12086	----	[Transcriber's Note: This book was published as Chinese Love Tales in 1935 (translated from the original of George Souile De Morant --a variation in the spelling of the middle name) with numerous illustrations by Valenti Angelo. It was attacked and acquitted in the courts, winning judicial recognition of its exceptional literary merit.] _EASTERN SHAME GIRL_ _Translated from the French of_ GEORGE SOULIE DEMORANT _Illustrations by_ MARCEL AVOND _New York Privately Printed 1929_ CONTENTS EASTERN SHAME GIRL THE WEDDING OF YA-NEI A STRANGE DESTINY THE ERROR OF THE EMBROIDERED SLIPPER THE COUNTERFEIT OLD WOMAN THE MONASTERY OF THE ESTEEMED-LOTUS A COMPLICATED MARRIAGE _Note:--The original source of the stories appearing in "Eastern Shame Girl" is the classic literature of China in the 17th Century._ EASTERN SHAME GIRL When there is a great peace Under the gold cup of the sun Joy reaches its flowering. In the twentieth year of the period Wan-li, there came, among the thousands of students who gathered at Peking for the examinations, a certain Li, whose first name was Chia and his surname Ch'ien-hsi, or "Purified-a-thousand times." His family were from Shao-hsing fu in Chekiang; his father was Judge of the province of Kang-su; and Li himself was the eldest of three brothers. He had studied in the village school from childhood and, not having yet attained to literary rank, had come, according to custom, to present himself for examination at Peking. While in that city, he consorted, before his springtide, with the young libertines, the "willow twigs" of his country; and, in order to gain experience, frequented the theatres and music-halls. Thus he became acquainted with a famous singing girl called Tu, whose first name was Mei, or "Elegance." As she was the tenth of her family, she was known at the theatre as Shih-niang, "The Tenth daughter." A delicate seduction diffused from her: her body was all grace and perfume. The twin arches of her brows held the black which is blue of distant mountains, and her eyes were as deep and bright as autumn lakes. Her face had the glory of the lotus, and her lips the glory of cherries. By what blunder of the gods had this piece of flawless jade fallen in the windy dust, among the flowers beneath the willow? When she was thirteen years old, Shih-niang had already "broken her claws." Now she was nineteen, and it would not be possible to enumerate the young Lords and Princes whose hearts she had besotted, whose thoughts she had set in a turmoil, whose family treasures she had swallowed without compunction. In the theatres, they had composed an epigram about her: When Tu Shih-niang comes to a banquet The guests drink a thousand great cups Instead of a single small one. When Tu Mei appears upon the stage The actresses look like devils. It must be said that never, in the young passions of his life, had Li Chia experienced the pain of beauty; but, when he saw Shih-niang, emotion was awakened in him, and the feelings of a flowering willow filled his breast. He himself was gifted with rare beauty, and a sweet and gentle nature. He spent his money recklessly, with an unbridled zeal for bestowing gifts. For this reason he held a double attraction for Shih-niang, who considered that falsehood and avarice were opposed to rectitude, and had also by this time made up her mind to return to a life of honor. She appreciated Li Chia's gentleness and generosity, and was drawn toward him. But he was afraid of his father and did not dare to marry her at once, as she wished. Their love was not, on that account, any the less tender. In the joys of dawn and the pleasures of twilight they kept together as do husband and wife, and in their vows they compared their love with the Ocean or with the Mountain, recognizing no other vital motive. In truth: Their tenderness was deeper than the sea For it was past sounding, Their love was as the mountains But even higher. Also, since Chia had been admitted to her favor, rich Lords and powerful Ministers were no longer permitted to see the girl's beauty. At first Li used to give large sums of money, so that the matron to whom Shih-niang belonged, shrugged her shoulders and smiled. But the days went quickly, and the months too; and a year had passed. Chia's coffers had gradually become empty; and now his hand could no longer keep pace with his wishes. But the ancient ma-ma remained patient. In the meanwhile the Judge had learned that his son was frequenting the theatre, and sent him repeated orders to return home. But Chia, who was infatuated, kept on delaying his departure until, hearing that his father was truly furious, he no longer dared to return. It was well said by the ancients: "As long as harmony endures there is unity; when harmony ceases, there is separation." Shih-niang's love was sincere, and her heart only burned the more for him whose hands were empty. The ma-ma frequently ordered her to send her lover away; then, seeing that the young girl was indifferent to her commands, she tried to exasperate Chia with stinging words, hoping thus to compel him to depart. But her visitor's nature was so gentle that his anger could not be provoked, and the only result was to make him more amiable in his behavior to the old woman, who in her impotence ended in reproaching Shih-niang: "We who keep open doors must eat our visitors three times a day, and clothe ourselves with them. We lead out the departing guest by one door, but to receive a fresh one by another. When desire is excited under our roof, our silver and silks mount up like hills. But it is more than a year since this Li Chia began troubling your curtains, and now old patrons and new guests alike have discontinued their visiting. The spirit Chung-k'uci no longer comes to our door; nay, not the littlest devil. Therefore I am angry and humiliated. What will become of us, now that we have no trace of visitors?" Shih-niang restrained herself with difficulty under these reproaches, and answered calmly: "Young Lord Li did not come here with empty hands. He has paid us considerable sums of money." "It was so at one time; but it is now so no longer. Tell him to give me enough to pay for rice for the two of you.... Indeed, I have no luck! Most of the girls I buy claim all the silver, and hardly care whether their clients live or die. But now I have reared a white tiger who refuses riches, opens wide the door, and makes my old body bear the total burden. O miserable child! You wish to keep the poor for nothing. Where will you find clothes and food? Tell your beggar to be wise enough to give me a few ounces of silver. If you will not send him away, I shall sell you and look for another slave. That would be better for both of us." "Do you mean what you say?" asked the girl. "But you know that Li Chia has neither money nor clothes, and cannot procure any." "I am not jesting," answered the old woman. "Then how much must he give to take me away?" "If any one else were in question, I should demand several thousand ounces. Alas! This beggar cannot pay them! So I shall be satisfied with three hundred ounces, with which to buy another 'tinted face.' If he brings them within three days, I will take the silver with my left hand and give the girl with my right. But after three days, it matters not at all to me that three times seven are twenty-one; Lord or no Lord, I shall beat out this young spark with my broom, and you must bear no grudge for it." "In spite of all, he should be able to borrow three hundred ounces. But three days is too little; he will need ten." "Ten days!" cried the other. "A hundred would be more like! Yet so be it. I will wait ten days." "If he cannot get the money, he will not have the face to return. My only fear is that you will go back on your promise, if he does bring the three hundred ounces." "I am nearly fifty-one years old," answered the ma-ma. "Ten times I have offered the great sacrifices. How should I dare not to keep my word? If you mistrust me, let us strike the palms of our hands together to fix the agreement. Nay, if I break my word, may I be changed into a pig or dog!" That same evening, by the pillow-side, Shih-niang explained how her body might be re-bought, and Li Qua said: "That would delight me, but how can I pay so much? My purse is as empty as if it had been washed." "Your slave has arranged all with the ma-ma. She requires three hundred ounces within ten days. Even if you have spent all that your family gave you for your journey, you have still some friends or relations from whom you can borrow. Then you will have me entirely to yourself, and I shall never again have to endure that woman's anger." "Since I became obsessed by our love, my friends and relations have ceased to recognize me. But perhaps, if I asked them to help me to pay for my journey I might make up the sum." In the morning, when he had arranged his hair and, clothed himself, and was about to leave Shih-niang, she said to him: "Do your uttermost, and come back to me with good news." He went to all his relations and friends, pretending that he was taking leave of them before his departure. They all congratulated him; but when he spoke of the expenses of the journey and asked for a loan, all, without exception, told him that they could do nothing. His friends knew the weakness of his character, and that he was besotted with love for some "Flower-in-the-Mist" or other. He had remained in Peking, up to that time, they knew, not daring to face his father's anger. Was this departure genuine, now, or but pretended? If he spent the borrowed money on "tinted faces," would not his father bear a grudge against those who lent it? The most he could get together was from ten to twenty ounces. Ashamed of his failure after a full three days of endeavor, he did not dare to return to Shih-niang; yet, since he used to spend every night with his mistress, he had no other lodging. After the first evening, therefore, he went and asked shelter from his fellow-countryman, the very learned Liu Yu-ch'un. This man, seeing the growing sadness of the young man, at last ventured to question him and learned his story and of his plan of marriage. Liu shook his head: "That is hardly possible. She is the most famous of all the singing girls. Who would be content with three hundred ounces for such a beauty? The old woman has conceived this method of sending you away, and Shih-niang, knowing that your hands are empty, asks you for this sum because she does not dare to tell you to leave her. If you offered the silver, she would laugh at you. It is a common trick. Do not trouble yourself further, but resign yourself to the breaking off of your relations with the girl." Li Chia was speechless for a long time, shaken by his doubts, and Liu added: "Make no mistake about it. If you show that you really mean to take your departure, many will help you. But as for your plan, you would need not ten days, but ten months to find three hundred ounces." "Good Elder-Brother," answered Li, "your judgment is indeed profound." But none the less he continued his vain search for three further days. Shih-niang was most anxious when she did not see her lover come back to her. She sent a little servant to look for him, and the child met Li by chance, and said: "Lord, our Elder-Sister awaits you at the house." In his shame, Li answered: "I have no time to-day. To-morrow I will come to see her." But the boy had been commanded to bring him back, and to die sooner than lose him, so he replied: "It is the absolute wish of the Elder-Sister that you come with me." Li could not refuse, and followed the messenger. Once in Shih-niang's presence he stood still, sobbing mo-mo, mo-mo, without a word. "How is our plan going?" she asked. He only answered with a flood of tears; so she insisted: "Can people have been so hard as to refuse three hundred ounces?" Stifling his sobs, he answered with this verse: It is easier to catch a tiger in the mountains Than to move the world with speech alone. "I have gone about for these six days, and my hands are empty. Shame has kept me away from my perfumed companion, and it is only at her command that I have come back. I have tried my hardest. Alas! such is the spirit of the century." "We will say nothing to the ma-ma. Let my Lord stay here for the night: his slave will propose another plan to him." She served him with a meal and wine, and made him lie down. Then in the middle of the night she asked: "If you cannot find three hundred ounces to free me, what are we to do?" He wept without answering. Shih-niang waited until the fifth watch; then she drew from under her mattress a bag containing a hundred and fifty ounces in small silver, and said: "This is my secret reserve. Since you cannot find the whole sum, I will give you half of it. That should help you; but we have only four days more. Above all, do not come too late!" Astonished and overjoyed, he carried away the bag and went back to Liu, telling him what had happened and showing him the money. Liu exclaimed: "Surely this woman has a loyal heart! Since she acts so, she must not be allowed to suffer. I am going to act as mediator in your marriage." Leaving Li in his house, he went himself to ask for loans on all sides. In two days he had amassed a hundred and fifty ounces. He gave them to the young man, saying: "I have stood guarantor for you, for I am deeply touched by Shih-niang's sentiment." Li took the silver, as delighted as if the money had fallen from the sky, and ran to see his mistress. It was the ninth day. She asked him: "Has it been very difficult? Have you found the hundred and fifty ounces?" He then told her what Liu had done; and both, rejoicing, spent a night of pleasure. Next day she said to him: "When this money is paid, I must follow my Lord. But we have made no preparation for the boats and conveyances of our journey. I have borrowed twenty ounces from my friends. My Lord may take them for travelling expenses." In his uneasiness concerning these expenses, he had not dared to speak of them. He took the money, and was full of joy. At that moment there was a knock on the door, and the old woman entered, saying: "This is the tenth day." "I thank the ma-ma for recalling the fact to us," he answered. "I was on the point of paying her a visit." And, taking up the bag, he poured the three hundred ounces on to the table. The old woman had not supposed he could succeed. She changed color, and seemed on the point of gainsaying her word. So Shih-niang said; "I have stayed in your house for a long time, and have brought in several thousands of ounces. To-day I am marrying. If you do not keep your word, I shall commit suicide before you, and you will lose the money and the girl." The old woman could find no words to express her feeling. She took the money in silence, and finally muttered: "If you mean to go away, you go now. But you shall take none of your clothes or jewels with you." Hustling the two young people along, she led them through the door and shot the bolt. It was then the ninth moon, and the weather was cold. Shih-niang had but just risen from bed, and was not dressed; nor was her hair done. Yet she saluted the ma-ma with two genuflexions. La Chia shook his two hands joined together. Thus the married pair left that not too pleasant old woman: Even as a carp escapes the metal hook, Flirts its tail and shakes its head And returns not. In front of the door La Chia said to his mistress: "Wait a moment! I will call a little palankeen to take you to the house of Liu." She answered: "In this very court are my friends, my sisters, who have always been in sympathy with me. "I must take leave of them; and I cannot neglect to thank them for the money they have lent me." Accompanied by her Lord, she went to each pavilion to greet her friends. Now, one of them, Yuch-lang, was a very close friend of Shih-niang, so, seeing that she had not done her hair, she led her to her own toilet-table, and ran to call another friend, Hsu Su-Su. Then she took from her coffers many ornaments of king-fisher leather and bracelets and jasper pins, even embroidered robes and girdles ornamented with phoenix. She gave them to Shih-niang, over-coming her with gratitude. She also ordered a feast of congratulation, to which all their friends were invited, and finally, at the end of day, offered the pair a bed for the night. When she was alone with Li Chia, Shih-niang asked: "Where shall we go when we have left the capital? Has my Lord made a decision on this point?" "My father," he answered, "is still angry with me. If, in addition, he learns that I have married my Little-Sister, and that I am coming back with her, he will doubtless be carried quite away by rage. I have not found a satisfactory plan." "Your father has feelings from Heaven. He could not break completely with you. Would it not be better for us to go to him, and to keep to our boat while you pray your friends to go and ask for a harmonious reconciliation? After that, leading your slave, you may re-enter your dwelling in peace." "That is an excellent plan," he answered. Next day they thanked Yuch-lang again, and went to the house of Liu. On seeing the learned man, Shih-niang knelt down to express her gratitude to him, saying: "Later we may both know how to return your kindness." Liu hastened to answer, according to the polite formality: "Your admirable sentiment far exceeds my most poor action. You are a heroine among women. Why, then, do you hang such words to your/teeth?" All day the three of them drank wine of joy. Then the pair chose a suitable day for their journey, and obtained horses and palankeens. When the time for their departure drew near, Yuch-lang, Hsu-Su, and all those friends came to bear the couple company. Yuch-lang sent her servants to bring a metal casket, furnished with a golden lock, and gave it to Shih-niang, who placed it in her palankeen without opening it. The porters and servants urged the travelers forward, and they started. Liu and the beautiful women escorted them as far as the other side of the Ch'ung-wen gate, and there they drank a last cup together. They separated with tears. When they reached the river Lu, Li Chia and Shih-niang abandoned the land way and hired a cabin in a large junk which was going to Kua-chow. After he had paid their passage in advance, there was only a single piece of bronze left in Li Chia's bag; the twenty ounces which Shih-niang had given him had vanished as if they had never been. The young man had not been able to avoid giving certain presents, and he had also bought blankets and other necessities for the journey. Sadly he asked himself what to be done, but she said to him: "My Lord may cease to disturb himself. Our friends have given yet more help." She opened her metal casket, while he looked on in shame. She took out a red silk bag and put it on the table, bidding him open it. He found the bag heavy; for, in fact, it contained fifty ounces of silver. Shih-niang had already shut the casket again, without saying what further was in it, now she said smilingly: "Have not our sisters the most desirable instinct? They did not wish us to have any difficulty on our journey, and in this way they enable us to cross mountains and rivers." Li Chia exclaimed in his delight and surprise: "If I had not met such generosity, I should have had no choice but to wander, and at last to die without burial. Even when my hair turns white, I shall not forget such virtue and such friendship." And he shed tears of emotion, until Shih-niang consoled him by, diverting his thoughts. Some days later they reached Kua-chow, where the big junk stopped. But Li Chia was now able to hire a smaller vessel for themselves alone, and in this he stowed their baggage. On the morrow they were to travel across the great river. * * * * * It was then the second quarter of the second month of winter. The moon shone like water. The pair were sitting on the deck of the junk, and the boy said: "Since we left the capital we have not been able to talk freely, because we were in a cabin and our neighbors could hear us. Now we are alone on our own junk. Also, we have left the cold of the North and will to-morrow be on the south side of the river. Is it not a fitting time to drink and rejoice, so as to forget our former sorrows? You to whom I owe so much, what do you say?" "It is now long since your slave was deprived of little pleasantries and laughters, and she had the same sentiment as yourself. Your words prove that we have but one soul." They brought wine on deck; and, seated on a carpet beside his mistress, he offered her cups. So they drank joyously, until they were a little drunk; and at length he said: "O my benefactress, your voice of marvel used to trouble the six theatres. Every time I heard you then, my spirit took wing from me. It is long since you have overcome me in that way. The moon is bright over the shimmering river. The night is deep and solitary. Will you not consent to favor me with a song?" For a little, Shih-niang refused. Then she looked at the moon, and a song escaped her. It was an affecting melody, taken from one of the pieces of the Yuan dynasty, called "The Light Rose of the Peaches." In truth: Her voice took flight to the Milky Way, And the clouds stopped to listen. Its echo fell into the deep water and the fishes hastened. Shih-niang sang. And in a near-by junk there was a young man called Sun; his first name was Fu, Rich, and his surname was Shan-lai, Excellent-in-Promise. His family was one of the wealthiest in Hsin-an of Hui-chow; his ancestors had owned the salt monopoly in Yang-chow. He was just twenty years old, and had moulded his character in accordance with his passion, being a regular visitor at the blue pavilions, where the smiles of painted roses are to be bought. He was making a journey, and had cast anchor for the night at Kua-chow. He was drinking in solitude, bemoaning the absence of companions. Suddenly in the night he heard a voice more sweet than the sighs of the bird of passion, or than the warbling phoenix. No words seemed adequate, he felt, to describe the beauty of this song. Walking out from his cabin, he found that the music came from a junk not very far distant from his own. In his eagerness to know who had enchanted him, he told his men to go and question the boatmen. But he learned no more than that the junk had been hired by Li Chia. He obtained no information concerning the singer. He reflected: "Such a perfect voice could not belong to a woman of good family. How can I manage to see this bird?" He could not sleep that night. In the morning, at about the fifth watch, he heard the wind roaring on the water. The light of day was strangely veiled by cloud, and flakes of snow were whirling madly. It has been said; The clouds are swallowing Countless thousands of trees upon the hill. Footprints disappear on many footpaths. The fisher in the bamboo hat On the frail boat Catches only snow and the frozen river. This snowstorm rendered it impossible to cross the river, and the boats could not be set in motion. Sun, therefore, told his rowers to leave his moorings and to make fast alongside Li Chia's junk. Then, in a sable bonnet and wrapped in his fox-skin robe, he opened his cabin window, pretending to look at the white snow as it fell. Shih-niang had just arranged her hair, and, with her tapering fingers, was pushing back the short curtains to throw out the dregs of tea in the bottom of her cup. The freshened splendor of her rouge shone softly. Sun saw that celestial beauty, that incantation; he scented that perfume; and his soul boiled over. For a long moment he gazed, and his spirit was as if submerged. But he recovered himself and, leaning out of the window, recited, nearly at full voice, the poem of the "Blossom of the Plum Tree": Snow covers the mountain where the Sage abides, Under the trees in the moonlight Beauty advances. Li Chia heard the poem and came out of his cabin, curious to see who was reciting it. In this way he fell into the trap set by Sun, who hastened to salute him, asking: "Old-Elder-Brother, what is your honorable name? And what is your first name which one does not presume to repeat?" Having answered in accordance with the convention, Li Chia had to question Sun in his turn. They exchanged such words as are customary between educated men. Finally the libertine said: "This snowstorm was sent by Heaven to effect our meeting. It is a large piece of fortune for your little brother. I was lonely and without diversion in my cabin. Would it not be my venerable brother's pleasure that we should go to a riverside pavilion and divert ourselves by drinking wine?" Li Chia answered: "The water-chestnuts meet at the caprice of the current. How should I not be glad of this offer?" "Between the four seas all men are brothers." Then Sun ordered his servant to come with him, sheltering Li Chia under a large parasol. The two men saluted each other again, landed on the bank and, after walking a little distance, found a wine pavilion. Having entered, they chose seats by the window and sat down. The attendant brought them hot wine, Sun raised his cup to give the signal, and soon the two were conversing freely and had become friends. At length Sun leaned forward and said in a low voice: "Last night a song arose from your honorable ship. Whose was that voice?" Wishing to pose as a man of leisure making a journey, Li Chia at once told the truth: "It was Tu Shih-niang, the famous singing girl of Peking." "How comes a singing girl to belong to my brother?" Li Chia then ingeniously told his story, and the other said: "To marry such a beauty is exceptional good fortune. But will your honorable father be satisfied?" Li sighed and answered: "There is no lack of anxiety in my humble house. My father is of a very stern disposition, and as yet knows nothing." Sun, developing his hidden traps, continued: "If your honorable father is not placable, where will my Elder-Brother shelter the Beauty whom he has carried away? Have you come to some arrangement with her on this point?" With heavy brows, La answered: "My little wife and I have already discussed the matter." "Your Honorable Favor has doubtless some admirable plan?" "Her ideas," explained La, "is to remain for the time at a place in the country of Su and Hang, whilst I go forward to my family and ask my friends and relations to appease my father." The other gave a deep sigh and assumed a saddened air: "Our friendship is not yet deep enough. I fear that you may consider my words both strange and too outspoken." "When I have the good fortune to receive your learned and enlightening counsel, how could I fail to respect it?" "Your honorable and noble father, being of stern character, is certainly still angry at your conduct in Peking. And now my Elder-Brother marries in the face of convention. How could your prudent relatives and valuable friends fail to share the views of your honorable father? When you rashly ask them to act on your behalf, they will certainly refuse. Then will not the temporary residence of your Honorable Favor become a permanent one? In your position, it will be as difficult to advance as to retire." Li Chia knew that he had only fifty ounces in his purse, and that half this sum would very soon have vanished. He could not help hanging his head. His companion added: "I have yet another thing to say, and it comes from my heart. Will you hear it?" "Having already received your sympathetic advice, I shall be most happy to listen." "Since earliest time," said Sun, "the hearts of women have been as changeable as the waves of the sea. And among the Flowers-in-the-Mist especially there are few who are found faithful. Since the present case concerns a famous singing girl, who knows the whole earth, it is probable that she has some former associate in the regions of the South. She has consequently availed herself of your help to conduct her to the land where this other lives." "I beg to say that that is not certain," protested Li. "Even if it is not, the men of the South are very adroit and very active. You leave a beautiful woman to live there all alone: can you guarantee that none will climb her wall or penetrate her dwelling? After all, the relations between father and son are from Heaven and cannot be destroyed. If you abandon your family for the sake of a singing girl, you will wander until you become one of those incorrect Floating-on-the-Wave individuals. A woman is not Heaven. You must ponder this matter seriously." Hearing this, Li Chia felt as if he were swept away by a torrent. At last he answered: "What, in your enlightened opinion, ought I to do?" "Your servant has a plan which should be very profitable to you. But I fear lest, weakened by die soft pillow of your love, you will not be able to put it into execution, and that my words will therefore be wasted." "If you have a really good suggestion, I shall be forever your debtor. Why do you fear to speak?" "My Elder-Brother, for more than a year you have Fluttered-in-the-Rain, obsessed by your brothel. You have not been able to give your mind to the difficulties which will assail you when you no longer know where to sleep or to eat. Your father's anger is only due to your having become infatuated with Flowers, besotted by Willows, until you poured out gold as if it were simple sand. He tells himself that you will quickly consume the abundant wealth of your family, and not be assured of having children. By returning empty-handed you will justify his anger. If, O my Elder-Brother, you could cut the knot which binds you to your love, I would willingly make you a gift of a thousand ounces. With a thousand ounces of silver to show your father, you could say that, during your stay at the capital, you had rarely left your study chamber and that you had never Skimmed the Waves. He will have confidence in you, and the harmony of the house will be restored. Thus, without idle words, you change your sorrow to joy. Give the matter three thoughts. I do not covet the Beauty! I speak with no idea but of loyally helping a friend." La Chia was a man of naturally weak character; moreover, he was afraid of his father. Sun's fine words troubled his heart. He rose, made a deep bow, and said: "O Brother! Your noble counsel has cleared away the foolish and tangled obstruction of my understanding. But my little favorite has accompanied me for some thousands of li, and it would not be just for me to leave her in this way. I will return to deliberate with her, and to discover whether her mind is favorable to your project. I shall inform you shortly." "In our conversation," answered Sun, "we have abandoned the paths of strict politeness. "That was because my loyal heart could not endure to see the separation of a father and son, and wished to help you to return to your family." They both drank another cup of wine. The wind had dropped, and the snow had ceased to fall. The color of the sky proclaimed the evening. Sun caused his servant to pay for the drinks, and, taking Li Chia by the hand, accompanied him as far as the junk. It is very true that: You meet a stranger and say three words And tear off a piece of your heart. In the morning Shih-niang, on being left alone in her cabin, had prepared a little feast for her friend, wishing to spend the day with him in happiness; but the sun had set before Chia came back. She had lanterns lit to guide him and, when he at last appeared and entered the cabin, raised her eyes to his face and found the color of displeasure. She poured out a cup of hot wine and offered it to him; but he shook his head without a word, and refused to drink. Then he went and threw himself on the bed. Sad at heart, Shih-niang put the cups and dishes in order. She then undid her husband's clothes and, leaning on the pillow, gently asked him: "What news have you heard that has so upset you?" Li Chia sighed, but without answering. She questioned him again three or four times, but he was already asleep. Unable to be indifferent to such lack of regard, she remained for a long time sitting on the edge of the bed, incapable of sleep. In the middle of the night he awoke and gave another deep sigh; and she said to him: "What is this difficult matter with which my Lord is troubled? What are these sighings?" Li Chia threw off the blanket and seemed about to speak, but the words would not come from him. His lips trembled like leaves, and finally he burst out sobbing. She clasped his head with one arm and held it against her breast, trying to comfort him, and saying tenderly: "The love which unites us has lasted for many days, for very nearly two years. We have overcome a thousand hardships and bitter moments, but now we are far beyond all difficulty. Why do you show such grief to-day, when we are about to cross the river and to taste the joy of a hundred years? There must surely be a reason. All things are shared in common between husband and wife, in life and after death. If anything is the matter, we must discuss it Why do you hide your sorrow from me?" Thus urged, the young man mastered his tears and said: "I am crushed beneath the woe which Heaven heaps upon me. In the generosity of your soul, you have not cast me by. You have endured a thousand wrongs for me. That is no merit of mine. But I still think of my father, whose commands I am defying and that against every convention and all laws. He is of inflexible character, and I fear that his wrath will grow double at the sight of me. Where, then, shall we two, floating with the current, come to our anchorage? How shall I ensure our happiness, when my father has broken with me? To-day my friend Sun invited me to drink and spoke to me of my prospects, and what he said has pierced my heart." "What is my Lord's intention?" she asked in great surprise. "I was turning madly in the web of our affairs, when my friend Sun sketched out an excellent plan to me. But I fear that my benefactress will refuse to allow it." "Who is this friend, Sun? If his plan is good, why should I not agree to it?" "His first name is Fu, and his family had the salt monopoly at Hsin-an. He is a man who has Drifted-in-the-Wind and knows life. Last night he was charmed by your pure song. I told him where we came from, and confided the difficulties which beset our return. Then, under the impulsion of a generous thought, he offered to give me a thousand ounces if you will marry him. With these thousand ounces as testimony I shall be able to speak to my father. Also I shall know that you are not without shelter. But I cannot contain my feeling, and that is why I mourn." And his tears fell like a storm of rain. Ceasing to hold his head against her breast, Shih-niang gently pushed him aside. At last she smiled like ice and said to him: "This person must be a hero, a man of courage and virtue, to have conceived a project so advantageous to my Lord. Not only will my Lord have a thousand ounces to take back with him, not only will your slave gain shelter, but your baggage will be lighter also and more easily handled. As a plan it satisfies both convention and convenience. Where are the thousand ounces?" Struggling with his tears, Li Chia replied: "I have not got your consent, so the silver was not given me." "You must demand it first thing to-morrow morning. A thousand ounces is a considerable sum, and it must all be paid into your hand before I enter his cabin. For I am not merchandise which may be bought on credit." It was then the fourth watch of the night. Shih-niang prepared her toilet-table, saying: "To-day I must adorn myself to bid farewell to my former protector and to do honor to my new one. It is no commonplace event. I must therefore take great pains with paint and perfume, and put on my best jewels and embroidered robes." Thereafter, with perfume and paint and jewelry, she added to the splendor of her petalled seduction. The sun had already risen before she completed her preparations. Li Chia was disturbed, and yet seemed almost happy. Shih-niang urged him to insist upon the payment of the money, and he at once carried her answer to the other junk. Then Sun said: "It is easy for me to give the money; but I ought to have the fair one's jewelry as a proof of her consent." Li Chia told this to Shih-niang, who pointed to the casket with the golden lock, and caused it to be taken to Sun, who joyfully counted out a thousand ounces of silver and sent them to Li's ship. The young woman herself verified the weight and standard of the metal; and then, leaning over the bulwarks, half opened her scarlet lips and showed her white teeth saying to the dazzled Sun: "You can now, I think, give me back my casket for a time. The Lord Li's passports are in it, and I must return them to him." The other at once ordered the little chest to be brought back and placed on the bridge. Shih-niang opened it Inside there were several compartments, and she asked Li Chia to help her lift out each in turn. In the first there were jewels in the shape of king-fisher feathers, jasper pins, and precious earrings, to the value of many hundred ounces. Shih-niang took up these things in handfuls and threw them into the river. Li, Sun and the boatmen uttered exclamations of dismay. In the second compartment were a jade flute and a golden flageolet. In a third were antique jewels, gold furnishings and a hundred ornaments worth thousands of ounces each. She threw them all into the river. The stricken onlookers gave voice to their regret. Finally she drew out a box filled with pearls and rubies and emeralds and cats' eyes, whose number and value were beyond computation. The cries of the wondering bystanders beat in the air like thunder. She wanted to throw all these into the river also; but Li Chia held her in his arms, while Sun vehemently encouraged him. So, pushing Li away, she turned to the other and reviled him: "The Lord Li and I suffered many bitter moments before we came to yesterday. And you, to serve a detestable and criminal lust, have undone us and have caused me to hate the man I loved. After my death I meet the Spirit of Retribution, and I shall not forget your vile hypocrisy." Then, turning toward Li Chia, she continued: "During those many years when I lived in a disorder of the dust and breeze, I secretly amassed these treasures, that they might some day rescue my body. When I met my Lord, we vowed that our union should be higher than the mountain, deeper than the sea. We swore that, even when our hair was white, we should have our love. Before leaving the capital, I pretended to receive this casket as a gift from my friends. It contained a treasure of more than a myriad ounces. I intended to deposit it in your treasury, when I had seen your father and mother. Who would have thought your faith so shallow, that, on the strength of a chance conversation, you would consent to lose my loyal heart? To-day, before the eyes of all these people, I have shown you that your thousand ounces were a very little sum of money. These persons are my witness that it is my Lord who rejects his wife, that it is not I who am wanting in my duty." Hearing these sad words, those who were present wept, and called down curses upon Li, and reviled him as an ingrate. And he, being both ashamed and desolate, shed tears of bitter repentance. He knelt down to beg for her forgiveness. But Shih-niang, holding the jewels in each hand, leaped into the yellow water of the river. The onlookers uttered a cry and rushed to save her. But, under a sombre cloud, the waves in the heart of the river broke into boiling foam, and no further trace was seen of that desperate woman. Alas! she was an illustrious singing girl, as beautiful as flowers or jade. She had been swallowed in an instant by the water. The people, grinding their teeth, would have beaten Li and Sun; but these, in terror and dismay, made haste to push their boats out from the bank, and then went each his own way. Li Chia, seeing the thousand ounces of silver in his cabin, unceasingly wept for the death of Shih-niang. His remorse gave birth to a kind of madness in him, of which he could never be healed. Sun was so prostrated that he had to keep his bed. He thought he saw Shih-niang standing in front of him all day and every day. It was not long before he expiated his crime in death. We must now tell how Liu, having left the capital to return to his own village, also halted at Kua-chow. Leaning over the river to take up some water in a bronze basin, he let the thing slip, and therefore begged certain fishermen to drag their net for it. When they drew up, there was a little box in the net. Liu opened it, and it was full of pearls and precious stones. He rewarded the fishermen generously, and placed the box near his pillow. In the night he had a dream. A young woman rose from the troubled waters of the river, and he recognized Shih-niang. She drew near, wishing him ten thousand happinesses. Then she recounted the unworthy ingratitude of Li, and said: "Of your bounty you gave me a hundred and fifty ounces. I have not forgotten your generosity, and I put this little box in the fishermen's net as an offering of recognition." He awoke and, having learned thus of Shih-niang's death, sighed for a long time. Later, those who told me this story declared that Sun, since he thought he could acquire a beautiful woman for a thousand ounces, was evidently not a respectable man. Li Chia, they said, had not understood the sorrowful heart of Shih-niang, and was consequently stupid, without refinement, and not worthy of mention. Shih-niang alone was heroic. She was, in fact, unique since furtherest antiquity. Why could she not meet some charming companion, some phoenix worthy of her? Why did she make the mistake of loving Li Chia? An admirable piece of jade was thrown to him who did not deserve it; so that love turned to hate, and a thousand passionate impulses were drowned in the deep water. Alas! _Tu Shih-niang nu ch'en pai pao hsiang. (Tu Shih-niang, being put to shame drowns herself with her casket of a hundred treasures.)_ _Chin ku chi'i kuan (17th Century.)_ THE WEDDING OF YA-NEI In the reign of the emperor Shen Tsung there lived an official named Wu, who was at that time, Governor of Ch'ang-sha. His wife, Lin, had given him a son named Ya-nei, or "In-the-Palace," who had that year reached the age of sixteen. He was well endowed, although not without tendency to wantonness; yet he had from childhood diligently studied the classics and poetry. He had only one really extravagant failing; to satisfy his appetite he needed more than three bushels of rice every day, and over two pounds of meat. We will say nothing of his drinking. In spite of all this, he ever seemed half starved. About the third Moon of that year, Wu was appointed Governor of Yang-chow, and the equipages and boats of his new post came up to meet him. He packed his belongings, said good-bye to his friends and went on board, following the course of the river. On the second day he had to stop, because of a storm of wind which raised up the waters of the river in great waves. At the point on the river bank where the boat lay moored, there was already another official junk, before the cabin of which stood a middle-aged matron and a charming girl, surrounded by several women slaves. Ya-nei perceived the youthful beauty, and thought her so seductive that he immediately composed the following poem: Her soul has the tenderness of Autumn rivers And her pure bones are made of jade. The rose of the hibiscus lightens her, Her eyebrows have the curve of willow leaves. Is she not an Immortal from the Jasper Lake Or from the Moon Palace? He looked at her so ardently that his troubled soul took flight and alighted upon the maiden's breast. But his intelligence at once conceived a plan, and he said to his father: "Tieh-tieh, why would you not tell the sailors to anchor our junk by the side of that one? Would it not be safer?" Wu was also of this opinion and accordingly gave orders to his men. When the vessel was alongside, he sent to inquire the name of the voyagers, and was informed that they were a certain Ho Chang, the new Governor of Kien-K'ang, going to his post with his wife Ho tsin, and his daughter Elegant, who was just fifteen. Wu had known the excellent man formerly, so he had his name carried to him. Then, clothed in his official robes, he stepped from one ship to the other. His colleague was awaiting him before his cabin, and, having exchanged formal greetings, they sat and talked together, drinking a cup of tea. Wu returned to his boat where, after a few moments, Ho Chang returned his visit. And Ya-nei was present at the meeting. Ho Chang had no son, and took pleasure in seeing this beautiful young man. He questioned him upon certain ancient and modern books, and was satisfied with the ready answers which he obtained. He praised him unreservedly for them, thinking: "This is just the son-in-law that I should like. He would make an unprecedented match with my daughter. But he is going to live at Pien-liang, and I will be at Kien-K'ang which is more than fifteen days' journey to the south of that place." Wu asked him: "How many sons have you, O Old-Man-Born-Before-Me?" "I will not conceal from you the fact that I have only a daughter." Wu considered: "That charming child was his daughter then. She would be an unprecedented wife for my son. But she is his only child, and he certainly would not be willing to marry her at any great distance from himself." He added aloud: "But if you have no son, you have only to take concubines." "I thank you for your suggestion. It had occurred to me." After having talked for some time, Ho Chang withdrew to his cabin, where his wife and daughter were awaiting him. Being a little elated by his cups of wine, he kept speaking of Ya-nei's merit, and of his intention to invite the father and son for the next day. His words sank deeply into his daughter's mind. On the following day the river was still churned by waves, and the storm sent up spray to a height of more than thirty feet. The crash of water was heard on all sides. Early in the morning Ho Chang sent his invitation, and, when the two men arrived, the feast began. Elegant, in the next cabin, could see Ya-nei through the cracks in the bulkhead, and her heart was secretly moved. "If I could have him for my husband, my desire would be satisfied. But I shall not persuade him into a proposal by merely looking at him. How shall I set about making known my thought to him?" Ya-nei, for his part, looked in vain for some means of speaking to his neighbor. When the meal was finished, he returned to his ship and lay down on his bed. But Elegant was so much occupied in thinking of the young man that she could not touch her dinner. Leaving her mother alone, she retired to rest and was on the point of going to sleep, when the sound of a song came to her. It was the voice of Ya-nei, singing: A dream has come to me from the Blue Bowl, But I was not able to speak. I could not tell her of my delight Or appoint an endless alliance. She rose softly, opened her cabin door without sound and went up on to the bridge. Ya-nei was standing on the other ship, and immediately leaped to her side, and boldly took her in his arms. Between joy and alarm, she did not dare to resist. He drew her into her cabin and embraced her. At that moment one of the slaves passed before the cabin and, seeing the door open, cried out: "The door is open! O thieves!" Elegant at once covered her lover with the blanket, but one of the slaves saw the invader's feet. Ho Chang and his wife snatched away the blanket. "How does this wretch dare to dishonor my family?" cried the Governor in a rage. "Ah, throw him into the river!" In spite of the prayers of the culprit and the girl two men seized the former, dragged him away and threw him into the water. She followed him in despair, crying: "I have ruined him! I wish to follow!" And she too threw herself into the water. She woke with a start. It was only a dream. Till morning she lay and thought, wondering if this dream were perhaps an omen that her destiny ought not to be bound up with that of Ya-nei. He also had complicated dreams that night. He rose in the morning and opened the port-hole of his cabin. Ho Chang's ship was touching his own, and the port-hole opposite to him was open. Elegant appeared there, and their eyes met. Surprised, delighted and embarrassed, they smiled, as if they had known each other for a long time. They would gladly have spoken, but were afraid of being heard. Then she made a small sign to him, retired quickly into her cabin, and rapidly wrote some words on a piece of paper ornamented with sprays of rose peach. She rolled it in a silk handkerchief and cleverly threw it to Ya-nei, who caught it in both hands. They saluted each other, and reclosed their port-holes. He unfolded the handkerchief and smoothed out the crinkled leaf. It bore this poem: Brocade characters are on this paper of flowers, And the bowels of my sorris in this embroidery, I have dreamed of a prince And, carried upon a cloud, I come to him. But there was also a little word or two added: "This evening your submissive mistress will await you near the lamp. The noise of my scissors will be the signal for our happiness, and of our meeting." Beyond himself with joy, the lad hastened to take a leaf of golden paper and wrote out a poem on it. Then he took off his embroidered silken girdle, rolled it all together, and opened his port-hole. Elegant had also opened hers; she received the small packet and at once concealed it in her sleeve, for she heard the slaves approaching. These were followed by her mother. At last the time came for her father to cross to the other ship for the return feast given by Wu. Full of cunning, the maiden took a vessel brimming with liquor and gave it to her slaves, who eyed the gift as a thirsty dragon looks upon water. They were half-drunk when Ho Chang came back from the feast, and Elegant told them to go to bed, and that she would do some needle-work. As their faces were red, their ears burning and their legs unsteady, they were only too glad to retire; and soon their snores were heard over the ship. Little by little all other sounds died away in both the junks. Then she gently knocked on her port-hole with her scissors. Naturally Ya-nei was waiting for the signal; as soon as he heard it, his body was as if it had been shaken to pieces. However, he softly opened his shutter, stepped from one ship to the other, and glided into the cabin where the maiden awaited him. She gave him formal greeting, which he returned; but they looked at each other under the lamp, and their passion already raged like fire. They could hardly exchange a word, and Ya-nei's trembling hands were undoing. She offered but very feeble resistance. He ardently embraced her, and with his arms joined himself to the fresh breast that lighted him. At last they were able to speak. She told him of her dream, and of her astonishment on recognizing, in his poem, the verses which she had heard him sing in dream. He turned pale and sat down: "My dream was exactly yours. Before these omens are fulfilled, I shall speak to my father to arrange our marriage." But, even as they talked, they silently fell asleep arm in arm. Now about the middle of the night, the wind fell and the river became calmer. At the fifth watch the sailors untied their moorings and began to haul their anchors, singing at their work. The noise awakened the lovers, who heard the men say: "The ship catches the wind rarely. We shall not be long in getting to Ch'i-Chow." They looked at each other in dismay: "What are we going to do now?" "Hush!" said she. You must remain hidden for the moment. We will at last find a plan." "It is our dream come true." Remembering that the slaves had seen her lover's feet in her dream, Elegant leaned forward and covered them carefully with an ample blanket. At last she said: "I have a plan. During the day you must hide under the couch, and I shall pretend to be ill, and keep in bed, or in the cabin. When we reach Ch'i-Chow, I will give you a little money, and you must escape in the confusion of the disembarkation. You shall rejoin your parents, and we will arrange for our marriage. If, by any chance, my parents were to refuse, we should tell the truth. My family has always loved me excessively; they will certainly accede." As soon as they had determined on their course, Ya-nei slid under the bed, and made himself a place among the baggages. The curtain fell into place in front of him, and the young girl was still in bed when her mother came in, saying: "Aya! Why are you resting like this?" "I do not feel very well. I must have taken cold." "Cover yourself well, my daughter, if that be so." At this moment a slave entered, asking if she should bring breakfast. "My child," said her mother, "if you are not well, you would do better not to take any solid nourishment. I am going to make you an occasional small rice broth until you are recovered." "I am not very fond of broth. Give me some rice. Let them bring it to me here. I shall eat it by and by." "I will keep you company." "Aya! If you do not go and look after this rabble of women, they will do their work most incontestably wrong." Without understanding, the mother did indeed go to the next cabin at that moment when the breakfast was brought in. As soon as she had turned her back, Elegant told the slave to set down the dish on the table. "You may go away. I shall call you when I have finished." Ya-nei was watching, and came out from his hiding. On the dish there were only two small bowls of vegetables mixed with meat, a bowl of cooked green-stuff, and a little rice. Naturally, the young girl was not in the habit of taking large quantities of food; but for her lover, with his three bushels of rice a day, the matter was otherwise. After their meal, he again glided under the bed, nearly as hungry as before. She called the slave, and told her to bring in two more bowls of rice. Her mother heard this, and entered, saying: "My child! You are not well. How is it that you want to eat all that?" "The reason is not far to seek," she answered. "I am hungry, that is all." And her father, who had come to see the invalid, said: "Let her be. She is growing, and needs nourishment." When night came, and the evening meal was finished, she shut the door and told her lover he could get into the bed again. But the poor young man was suffering cruelly from hunger. "Our stratagem," said he, "is admirable. But it is in one respect also grievous. I cannot conceal from you that my appetite is considerable. The three meals which I have had to-day seem scarcely a mouthful. On such a diet, I shall starve before we come to Ch'i-Chow." "Why did you not say so? I shall make them bring me more to-morrow." "But are you not afraid of rousing suspicion?" "That is nothing. I shall see to it. But how much would you need?" "We shall never be able to obtain quite that. Ten bowls of rice at each meal would not be enough." Next day, when her parents came to see her, Elegant complained. "I do not know what is the matter with me," she said. "I am dying of hunger." But her mother began to laugh: "That is not a very serious affair. I will have more rice brought to you." But when the young girl said that she needed about ten bowls, the good woman was startled. She again wished to remain near her daughter. "If you stay here, mama, I shall not be able to take anything. Leave me alone, and I shall eat more comfortably." Everybody indulged her caprice. When the cabin was empty, she shut the door and Ya-nei came out. Hungry as he was, he made the ten bowls vanish like a shooting star, and did not leave a single grain. Elegant watched him with astonishment, and asked him in a low voice: "Is that still too little?" "It will suffice," answered the other, drinking a cup of tea. He hastened back to his hiding-place, while the young girl ate some vegetables. Then she called the slaves, who came running up, wondering whether she had been able to eat all that food. They looked at the empty bowls and at their mistress's slim figure, and murmured as they went away: "What a terrible illness!" One of them, in her anxiety, went to the father and showed him the dish, suggesting that he should call a doctor as soon as possible. And he, for his part, forbade them to give her so much another time, fearing that she would burst. At mid-day he went himself to speak to her. She began to weep: her mother took her part; and they gave way to her. The evening meal was just as large. They were approaching Ch'i-Chow, and Ho Chang, who was really alarmed, ordered his boatmen to cast anchor near the town. Early in the morning he sent his steward to find the best doctor, and when the man arrived, brought him on board and explained the case to him. They then went to examine the invalid and to try her pulse. The doctor at length came back with the father into the central cabin. "Well? What is the illness?" The other coughed, and at last said: "Your daughter is suffering from lack of nourishment." Her father was staggered: "But I have told you that she ate thirty bowls of rice yesterday." "Yet, but your daughter is still a child. She is apparently fifteen years old, but that is equivalent to fourteen in reality, or even to thirteen and some months. Her food accumulates in her stomach, but is not assimilated. From this cause arises the fever which burns her stomach and makes her imagine herself to be always hungry. The more she eats, therefore, the more her stomach burns. In one month it will be too late to cure her, and she will die of hunger." "But how is she to be cured?" "First, I shall make her digest what she eats. Of course, she must eat very little indeed." He wrote his prescription and went away. The servant went to get the drugs, which were dissolved and boiled according to direction, and finally presented to the young girl. She said that she would take them, and as soon as she was alone threw them out of the port-hole. Thereafter she continued to ask for ten bowls of rice for every meal. Every one on the ship was now discussing this extraordinary case. Some said that they ought to call in sorcerers. Others thought that religious men would do better, seeing that she had certainly been possessed by one of those starving spirits which wander without purpose in punishment for their sins, with a needle's eye for a mouth, seeking in vain for food. At the next town, Ho Chang summoned another doctor. After his examination, mention was made of the former diagnosis, and he burst out laughing. "Nothing of the sort. It is an internal consumption." "But what, then, is the reason for this hunger?" "The hot and the cold principles are at variance in her, and the resultant fire gives her continual opsomania. It is easy to understand." "But she has no fever." "Outside she is cool, but she burns within. The malady is inside the bones; and that is why it is not visible. If she had continued to take the drugs which you have been giving her, it would have been difficult to save her. I shall give her something to soothe her bowels. She will then, of her own accord, refuse all food." It need not be said that it was the same in this case as in the other. All the medicines went down the river. Meanwhile the two lovers continued to profit by the silence of the night. Naturally, the young girl was at first, so to speak, passive in the arms of the young man, who was himself bashful. But little by little, penetrating further into the domain of pleasure, their amorous intelligence redoubled with their rapture, and they forgot entirely where they were. One night a slave woke up, and heard a "tsi-tsi-nung-nung" and a "tsia-tsia" coming from within, and then quick breathing. Inwardly surprised, she next day told her mistress, and the mother, seeing that her daughter was always of a brilliantly healthy complexion, began to think this unknown malady a very strange one. She did not inform her husband, however, but ran herself to see her daughter. The child's face seemed to her to be more beautiful and animated even than usual. She went out, without seeing anything which might confirm her suspicion, and, coming back again after breakfast, began gently to question her daughter on her ideas of marriage. As they were talking, there suddenly came a snore from under the bed. Ya-nei, after his efforts in the night and his morning meal, had gone to sleep in his hiding-place. Elegant's mother at once shut the door and, quickly stooping to look under the bed, saw the young man asleep. "Alas, how could you do this thing? And then frighten us with your illness? Now everybody will know of it. Where does he come from? May Heaven strike him dead!" Elegant's face was purple with shame. "It is all your child's fault. He is the son of the Lord Wu." "Ya-nei? But you have never seen him! Besides, he was at the dinner with your father, and we came away at midnight. How can he be here?" Trusting in her mother's indulgence, the young girl confessed everything, and added: "Your unworthy daughter has dishonored our name and lost her innocence. My crime is unpardonable. But it was the will of Heaven. There had to be that storm to make us meet, and then destiny prevented our betrothal. Our strength was too small for the struggle, and we have sworn to love each other until death. I implore you to speak to my father and appease him; for if he makes an uproar; there is nothing left for me but to die." Her tears fell like rain. And, while they were talking, Ya-nei's snores sounded like thunder. "At least make him keep quiet," cried the mother in a fury. "We can no longer hear ourselves speak." And she went out, slamming the door, while Elegant hastened to awaken the sleeper. "Really you might snore less loudly!" she said with impatience. "All is discovered now." When he heard this, Ya-nei's body was frozen with terror as if he had received a drenching in cold water. His teeth chattered. "Do not be afraid. I have asked my mother to speak for us. If my father is angry, there will be time enough for us to die then." The woman meanwhile had hurried to her husband, but there was a slave with him, putting the cabin in order. So she waited, and the tears rolled from her eyes. Ho Chang thought she was anxious about her daughter's health, and reassured her: "She will be better in a few days. The doctor said so. Do not disturb yourself." But she sneered at him: "You have been listening to the flower words of old Wise-Wand. Better in a few days! She would have to be ill first!" "What do you mean?" Since the servant was no longer there, she told him in a low voice what she had seen and heard. Ho Chang's anger was such that his sight was troubled. She begged him to calm himself. "Enough! Enough!" he thundered. "This worthless daughter fouls the very air upon our threshold. We must kill them both in the night, so that none may know." The woman's face became as the earth. "We have already reached a ripe age, and this is the only flesh and bone we have. If you kill her, what will be left to us? As for Ya-nei, he is of a good family, he is intelligent, and well-built. Our stations are identical and our houses equal. His only fault is that he did not make a proposal, but rather forced everything in secret. Yet so the matter is. Would it not be better to send him back with a letter to Wu, requiring gifts of betrothal? We would lose all by making a scandal." Ho Chang's rage was already half spent, and he now let himself be persuaded by degrees. He went out and asked the boatmen where they were. "We are approaching Wu-ch'ang." "You will anchor there." He then called his confidential steward and, explaining all to him, gave him a letter. After this he went to see his daughter, who hid herself under the blanket when she beheld him. He spoke no word to her; but in a stern tone called out Ya-nei, who crept from his hiding-place, saluted the older man, and said: "My crime deserves death." "How could a young man of your education commit such an act? My wife has prevailed upon me to spare your life; but, if you would redeem your fault, you must take my unworthy daughter as your wife. If this is not your intention, do not count upon my pardon." Ya-nei abased himself in ritual prostration. "The honor which you do me is a reward which my conduct does not deserve," he said. "I shall speak to my parents as soon as I return." Ho Chang hurried him away, without leaving him time to speak to the young girl again. She was clinging to her mother, and whispered: "I do not know my father's intention. Could I not have a letter from Ya-nei on his arrival?" Her truly indulgent mother went and spoke to the steward. The latter had already hired a boat, and, as it was night, the intruder would be able to pass from one junk to the other without being observed. They set out, while Elegant wept incessantly for sorrow and uneasiness. We must now return to the family of Wu. After the night of Ya-nei's departure, their boat had proceeded for several leagues before the young man's absence was noticed. But when they called for him, and his cabin was found empty, the souls of his parents left their bodies. They howled their despair, supposing that their child had fallen unobserved into the water. They turned the ship about, hoping at least to recover the body; but all searching was in vain, and they had perforce to resume their journey in despair. They had been at their destination for two days when Ya-nei arrived; you may suppose that their surprise was only equalled by their joy. They read Ho Chang's letter, and understood everything. They scolded their son, and made a feast for Ho Chang's envoy. When the betrothal gifts were ready, they sent them in charge of their steward, to whom Ya-nei entrusted a secret letter for his Elegant. Soon the time came for Ya-nei's examination at the capital, and he was accepted. His father asked for a holiday, and the whole family went to Kien-K'ang, where the marriage was celebrated. The fame of Elegant's wisdom and beauty grew with the years, and the happiness of these two was never dimmed. _Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 28th Tale._ A STRANGE DESTINY In epochs of deep peace When days are lengthening, The flute sounds and songs are heard Among the drunken villages. The Phoenix Car is said to be approaching With the Emperor, And each one turns his eye To the splendor of that procession. In the reign of Hui Tsung of the Sung dynasty, near the capital of the East, on the borders of the Lake of Clearness of Gold, a new wine pavilion had just been opened, under the sign of The Quick Hedge. Fan, the landlord, and his brother Erh-lang, were the proprietors. Neither of them was married; and their business prospered. It was the week when Spring melts into Summer, and men walk abroad in number to enjoy the freshness and beauty of nature. One day Erh-lang roamed the lakeside, delighting in the soft air, and saw, in front of a teahouse, a ravishing girl of about eighteen, in whose face, which was as dreamful as the Night Star, flowered all the blossoms of the time. He stopped, fixed to the ground with admiration and already riotous with love. He could not take his eyes from the rose radiance of this face, peach blossom against flawless jade; from this slender body, from the rare golden lotus of these delicate feet. A scarlet hibiscus in flower framed this phoenix against stirring landscape of the great lake. Alas! our emotions do not depend upon our will. The young girl felt herself looked upon, and raised her eyes; her soul was at once troubled, her child's heart secretly rejoiced. She thought: "If I could marry this beautiful man, I should know many happy moments. But, though he is there now, where will he be tomorrow? How can I tell him how to find me again?" Just then a seller of refreshments came by with his small vessels on his shoulder. She called him: "Have you a little honey-water?" The merchant set down a bronze vase on the ground to serve her; but she, with pretended clumsiness, upset the vase, and said to him: "Never mind! Come to my house and I will pay for all. I will give you my name and address." Erh-lang pricked his ears, as she continued: "I am the daughter of Lord Chou, who lives near the Ts'ao Gate. My little name is Victorious-Immortal. And I pray you do not charge too much, for I am not yet betrothed or married." The young lover trembled with joy, saying to himself: "These words are meant for me, I am sure of that." The merchant was meanwhile protesting, and the young girl added: "My father is not at home just now. But he is terrible, and you will undoubtedly be prosecuted if you try to rob us." Erh-lang earnestly desired to make himself known in his turn, and being unable to think of any other expedient, he did as the girl had done: asked for a bowl of cool water, and pretended clumsily to upset the full jar. He then said: "Aya! Here is another misfortune! But it does not matter. Come to my house, and you shall be well recompensed. I am Erh-lang, brother of Fan. We are proprietors of THE PAVILION OF THE QUICK HEDGE. I am nineteen, and no one has yet cheated me in my business, I can draw a bow, and am not yet betrothed." "Are you not a little mad?" asked the merchant, looking at him in astonishment. "Why do you tell me all that? Do you wish me to act as the go-between for your marriage? I am an honest man, and have never cheated anybody." Hearing her admirer's words, the girl rejoiced in her heart. She suggested to her mother, who was sitting by her, that they should go away; and rising to her feet, said to the merchant: "If you will follow us, we will pay you at once." But her eyes spoke in reality to the young man; who walked slowly behind her, admiring the poise of her gait. In this manner they proceeded until the two women entered their house. But the young girl came back almost at once to draw aside the big door-curtain and to look out at him as he passed. He went on walking to and fro, as if he had lost his senses, and did not return to his house till evening. From that particular day Victorious-Immortal remained so strangely affected that she was quite unable to swallow a grain of rice, or even to touch a cake. At last, one morning, she was too weak to rise. Her mother ran to her bed. "My poor child," she asked, "what is the matter with you?" "I ache all over my body. I have pains in my head and cough a little." Her mother at once thought of calling in a doctor; but, in the absence of the master of the house and his servant, there was no man to go on the errand. But an old female attendant, named Kind-Welcome, was present and observed: "The ancient woman Wang lives, as you know, quite close at hand. She has helped more than a hundred children into the world. She can sew, and she can act as go-between; but she can also feel a pulse and diagnose an illness. Everybody calls her as soon as there is anything the matter." "That is true. Go and fetch her quickly." Some few moments later the healer came and the mother began a long explanation. But the woman interrupted her: "I shall know all about it when I have examined the patient." The sick girl put out a wasted hand, and the woman felt her pulse for a long time. At last she said: "You have pains in the head, and all your body aches. You are in continual agony, and the earth is hateful to you." "That is exactly the case," she answered from her bed. "Also I cough a little." "But what has caused this illness?" As the girl did not answer, this wise old visitor turned to the mother and the attendant, and signed them to go away. They dared not refuse, and left the room. "Now we are going to cure you. The illness lies in your heart, and nowhere else." "In my heart?" questioned the sick girl. "You have seen a handsome young man, and he pleases you. Your suffering rises from that; is it not so?" "There is nothing of the sort," denied the other. "Come, come! Tell me the truth, and I will soon find a means to save your life." Seeing a chance to reach to her desire, little Victorious-Immortal decided to tell everything. When she had finished, the very old woman said: "Do not be troubled. I know one of his relations who has spoken to me of him. He is intelligent and level-headed. I shall go and see his brother, to make arrangements for your marriage, if you finally wish to marry him." "You know very well that I do," said the sick child with a smile. "But will my mother consent?" "Do not be uneasy. I have my methods." She was already out of the room, and saying to the mother: "I know what is the matter with your daughter. If you would like me to make it clear to you, have two cups of wine brought in." Kind-Welcome made haste to arrange all on the table. The healer drank a draught of burning wine and, turning to the mother, repeated word for word what the girl had confessed to her, adding: "And now there is nothing for it but to marry her to Erh-lang, for otherwise her death is certain." "My husband will be away for a long time yet. I cannot decide without him." "You have only to make the arrangements. You need not celebrate the marriage until after my Lord's return. She must be given her desire; there is no other way of saving her." "If the young man is as desirable as all that ..." the mother murmured uneasily. "But how shall we bring the thing about?" "I am going to speak to his elder brother. I will keep you informed." Without further delay, the venerable go-between went straight to The Pavilion of the Quick Hedge, where she found Fan behind his counter, and saluted him: "Ten thousand happinesses!" "You come at the right time," he answered with a bow. "I was about to send to beg you to do so. For some days, I assure you, my brother has not been able to take a morsel of food. He says that his whole body is aching, and now he stays in bed. Will you, please, feel his pulse?" "I will see him. But it is better for me to be alone with him." "Then I shall not come with you." So the old woman went up into the sick man's room, and he said to her feebly: "Mother Wang, it is very long since I saw you. Alas! You come too late! My life is finished!" "In what special way are you so seriously ill?" she asked, sitting near the bed and touching his wrist. After a moment she continued: "Shall I tell you the name of your illness? It is called Victorious-Immortal, little daughter of Chou, and her house is near the Ts'ao Gate." The sick man was startled and sat up: "How do you know that?" "Her family has commissioned me to come and arrange your marriage." Immediate happiness revived the young man. He rose and came down with the wise visitor to his astonished brother. "I am cured," he announced, "And all goes very well." Meanwhile the old woman was saying: "The family of Chou has sent me especially to talk to you about a marriage." All was soon settled, the first gifts were exchanged, and the comforted hearts of the two young people were filled with joy. But they had to wait Lord Chou's return before proceeding with the ceremony. Chou did not come back until eight months later. It is needless to say that, when he did so, all his relations and friends came to drink cups of wine with him to "wash down the dust of the journey." At last his wife told him what had happened, affirming that all was decided. But the eyes of the master of the house became round and white, and he bellowed: "O filthy imbecile, who gave you the right to betroth our daughter to a wine merchant? Is there no son of decent family who would marry her? Do you wish to make us a laughing-stock?" While he was thus cursing his wife, the servant came up to them, crying: "Come quickly and save the child! She was behind the door, and heard your cries. She fell down and is no longer breathing." Stumbling in her haste, the mother ran out. She saw her daughter lying on the ground and was about to raise her, but her husband prevented her, saying: "Leave her! She was bringing dishonor on us! If she is to die, then let her die!" Seeing her mistress held back, Kind-Welcome bent over the girl. But Chou, with a blow that made the air whistle between his fingers sent her against the wall. In his rage, he seized his wife and shook her roughly, and she howled like a dog. The neighbors heard her and ran in, fearing that there was disaster. Soon the room was filled with women, all talking at the same time. But the master of it roughly bade them be silent: "I do not allow any spying upon my private affairs." The neighbors retired in discomfort, and the mother threw herself upon her daughter's body, whose ends were already cold. She sobbed: "You would not have died if I had come to you. O murderer, you have let her die of set purpose. You did not want to give her the four or five thousand ounces which her grandfather left her." He went out, panting like a boar with anger. The mother did not cease to lament her loss: her daughter had been so gentle and so clever. At length the time came to shut down the coffin, and Chou angrily said to his wife: "You pretend that I let her die so as not to lose four thousand ounces? I order you to put all her jewels in the tomb with her. That is more than five thousand ounces, one would think." They brought in the wu-tso, the Inspector of Corpses, and also his assistant, to verify the death and to help in hearsing her. The keeper of the family graveyard and his brother, the two Chang, were also there to assist in the mournful work. The time came for the funeral, and the procession went forth from the town. The coffin was placed in a brick tomb, and the first shovels of earth were thrown upon it. Then all returned home. Three feet of cold insensitive earth covered the body of this young beauty, and it had been full of love. Now the Inspector of Corpses had a worthless fellow named Feng for his assistant. This miserable boy, on coming back from the cemetery in the evening, said to his mother: "An excellent day's work! Tomorrow we shall be rich." "And what successful stroke of business have you concluded?" "Today we buried the daughter of Chou, and all her jewels were put in the coffin with her. Instead of leaving them to enrich the earth, would it not be better to take them?" "Think before you do such a terrible thing!" his mother begged. "This is no matter of a mere whipping. Your father wanted to do the same thing twenty years ago. He opened a coffin, and the corpse began to smile at him. Your father died of that in four or five days. My son, do not do it. It is no easy matter." "Mother," he answered simply, "my mind is made up. Do not waste your breath on me, for that is useless." He bent over his bed, and took out of it a heavy iron tool. "O mother, not each person's destiny is the same. I have consulted soothsayers, and they have told me that I shall become rich this year." He took also an axe, a leather sack, and a dark lantern, which he placed in readiness. Finally he wrapped himself in a great mantle of reeds, for it was the eleventh moon and the snow had begun to fall. He made a sort of hurdle with about ten inter-crossed bamboos, and fastened it behind his mantle, so that it should drag along the ground and efface his foot-prints. The second watch was sounding when he went out, and all was still bustle and gaiety in the town. But beyond the walls both silence and solitude reigned in the growing cold. The snow was already thick. Who would have ventured out there? From time to time he turned his head, but no one followed him. At last he reached the wall of the family graveyard and climbed in. Suddenly a dog ran through the tall grass and leaped at him, barking. The thief had prepared a portion of poisoned meat, and threw it to the dog. The beast, being badly fed, smelt it and swallowed it. He still barked a little, but the venom was potent, and he very soon writhed on the ground. In the keeper's hut, young Chang said to his elder brother: "The dog has started barking, and then has stopped. Is that not strange? Perhaps it is a thief. You ought to go and see." The elder brother rose from his hot bed and took up a weapon, grumbling. Then he opened the door and went out. But he was seized by a whirl of cold snow, and called to the dog: "What are you barking for, O animal of the Gods?" Then he came back and glided under his blankets. "There is nothing at all. But it is very cold." From the distant town came the far sound of the gongs and drums of the third watch. Taking heart, Feng went forward in a snow which deadened his steps. He quickly shovelled the fresh earth from the grave, and then lighted his lantern. Its yellow light lit up but a single point. Forcing two long crowbars between the joints, he loosened one brick, and then another. At last the coffin was uncovered. He inserted his pick under the lid, and pried it off and laid it on one side. The corpse was brought to view. "Small sister," he murmured. "I am only going to borrow a little of your useless wealth. Do not you grudge it me!" He took the veil from that charming face. The head was covered with ornaments of gold, and also with pearls. He took them all. He was tempted by the fine and silken garments of the corpse. He stripped it. But suddenly, the body shook itself and pushed the thief away with violence. He uttered a cry of imbecile terror and shrank back. The corpse had sat up and, in that little light, looked at the open tomb, the scattered tools, and her own unclothed body. The wretched lad, obeying instinctive habit, trembled and lied: "Little sister, I have come to save you." Naturally, when little Victorious-Immortal had heard the foul Chou's violent words, her despair had made her lose all sign of life. It was for this reason that she had been put in her coffin while still alive. Aroused now by the cold, her first thought was to remember her father's anger. Her only refuge then was the house of her betrothed, and she said: "If you will take me to The Pavilion of the Quick Hedge, you may have a heavy reward." "That is easy," answered Feng, seeking in vain for how he should escape. Ought he to kill her? He hardly had the courage after such a shock. He decided to give her back a few clothes. He put the jewels and his implements in the sack, together with the extinguished lantern, and quickly covered the grave with earth again. Then, because the girl was too weak to walk, he took her on his back and went away from that place. But instead of going to Fan's house, he went to his own. His mother opened the door to him, and cried in terror: "Have you stolen the corpse also?" "Do not speak so loud," he answered, setting down his burdens. He went to his bed, and there put little Victorious-Immortal. He drew a knife from his girdle and showed it to the girl: "Little one, I have some business to settle with you. If we come to an agreement, I will take you to Fan's house. If not, you very well behold this knife, and I shall cut you in two pieces." "What do you want with me?" she asked. "You are going to stay here without making a noise and without trying to escape, until I take you to Fan. As for the rest, we will speak of it another time." "I will do so! I will indeed do so!" Then the nasty youth led his mother into the next room to calm her a little. "But what are you going to do?" she asked. "Do you think we can be safe when she has gone to Fan?" "I am not going to take her to Fan." "What are you going to do, then?" He gave a country laugh, full of suggestion. * * * * * Matters so continued until the fifteenth day of the first Moon, the evening of the Feast of Lanterns. Feng went out to see the illuminations, and also to profit by the opportunities for theft which are always afforded in a crowd. The evening wore on, and he had not yet returned, when a shout arose among the neighbors. Feng's mother opened the door to see what was the matter. A fire had broken out near there. In terror, the old woman made haste to carry her furniture into the yard. Profiting by this confusion, the girl slipped through the door; but in the street she did not know which way to turn. At last she found the road to the Ts'ao Gate, and was running in that direction when she lost herself again. However, when at length she asked where The Pavilion of the Quick Hedge might be, she was shown a near way to it. The attendant was before the door, and she asked him very politely: "Ten thousand happinesses! Is not this the house of Fan and Erh-lang?" "Certainly it is, small lady." "Could you not lead me to him?" "Assuredly," he answered. He showed her the way, calling from the door to his masters; but when Erh-lang, in the pale light of the paper lanterns, recognized the white face of his betrothed, he cried out in dismay: "Ghost! Ghost!" Confident in her love, she advanced toward him piteously repeating: "Elder brother! Elder brother! I am alive!" But he kept recoiling in terror, and crying: "Help! Help!" How could he fail to believe himself in the presence of a ghost, when he had witnessed the funeral, and had, that very evening, encountered the wife of Chou in mourning garments? As she was about to touch him and, cringing against the wall, he could retreat no further, his terror redoubled. Not knowing what he did, he picked up a heavy stool and struck his dear visitor on the head with it. She fell back, and her head sounded dully on the stone flags. Fan ran up at the noise of this. He saw the woman on the ground, and his brother holding the stool. "What have you done?" he cried. "What is the matter? Was it you who killed her?" "She is a ghost," the other said. "If she were a ghost, she would not bleed. What have you done?" Already some ten persons had come up to see what was the matter. The street guard came in to them and seized Erh-lang, who kept on saying: "She is the ghost of Chou's daughter. I have killed her." Hearing this name, a neighbor ran to inform Chou, who would not at first believe him. At length he decided to go to the wine pavilion, where he was compelled to recognize her, though he kept on saying: "I buried her long since!" Nevertheless, the guard insisted upon leading Erh-lang to prison. Fan had the doors shut then, and stayed with Chou by the corpse till morning. Early next day the Governor inquired into the matter. The coffin was opened. It was found empty, and the keepers told how their dog had been found dead in the snow on the day after the funeral. In the absence of any completer explanation, they proceeded with their inquiry. Erh-lang, in his prison, was overcome with sorrowful remorse. Sometimes he said that she could not have survived her burial; sometimes he was rent with horror at the thought that she had been alive when he struck her. He recalled her beauty and grace in Spring by the lake side, and bitter tears rolled from him. While he was musing in this way, he saw his cell door open, and the girl appeared. In his emotion and fear, he cried: "Are you not dead, my darling?" "Your blow caused me more grief than harm. Now I have wakened, and have come to see you." She approached the bench where he sat, and he took her hand: "How can I have been so foolish as to fear you?" They were talking thus, and already, in their deep love, they were in each other's arms. His joy was so keen that suddenly he woke. It was a dream. On the second night the same thing happened, and on the third, and his passion grew stronger for her. As she was going away the third time, she said: "My life on earth had come to an end, but my love was so great and so potently called me to you, that the Marshal-of-the-Five-Ways, the Keeper-of-the-Frontier-of-the-Shadows, allowed me to come back to you, for these three nights. I must leave you now. But, if you do not forget, there will yet be something of me bound to your soul." Then she disappeared, and the young man sobbed most bitterly. In the end the matter was cleared up by chance. Feng's mother, having filched a golden trifle from her son's bag, went to sell it to the same jeweler who had made it for Chou. On being denounced before the Governor, mother and son were apprehended, and all the jewels were discovered in their house. Torture found them words, and the whole matter became clear. Erh-lang had actually believed that he saw a ghost, and was released. Feng was sentenced to slow death, and strips were torn one by one from his body by the executioner. His mother was only strangled. As for Erh-lang, his heart stayed faithful to the girl he had so greatly loved. At every feast he went to the temple of the Marshal-of-the-Five-Ways, and burned incense, so that the pleasant smoke of it might ascend to the palace of the soul of little Victorious-Immortal. His fidelity touched even the rough heart of Chou and, when he came to die a few years later, his body was buried in the same tomb with her whom his arms had known only in sleep. _Nao fan lou to ch'ing sheng hsien (Chou Victorious-Immortal, of abundant love, overthrows the Pavilion of the Fan). Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 14th Tale._ THE ERROR OF THE EMBROIDERED SLIPPER The sun is in our eyes And we think we are running out towards joy; Our heart pulls us down And we shall never know the way of the sky Or the end of all things. During the Hung-Chih period of our Dynasty there lived at Hang-chow a young man who was called Chang Loyalty. After his parents died, leaving him a great fortune, he no longer had anyone to guide him, and therefore, throwing away his books, he spent his time with gallants of the sort we name fou-lang-tzu, that is to say "floating-on-the-waves." They do not know how to profit by opportunity. So Chang no longer studied anything but various ball games, he abandoned himself to the pleasures of the theatre, and took his delight in those gardens where the breezes of love blow in the moonlight. In a word, he followed the changing flowers of illusion; and, as he was himself seductive, as impassioned as expert in pleasure, and rich and generous, he became the favorite of all the women of the town. One day, when spring had but just caused all the flowers to come out on the amiable banks of the Lake of the West, Chang invited a company of singing girls and idlers to spend the afternoon on the blue waters. He put on a gauze bonnet with floating wings, after the fashion of the time. His great transparent silk robe was of purple and silver, over a second embroidered one of pure white. White gauze stockings and red slippers completed the elegance of his appearance. He went out, walking unhurriedly, gently waving a fan decorated with paintings. Behind him walked his little slave, Clear-Lute, who carried over his shoulder a mantle in case the weather should freshen, and a long guitar with which to accompany the singing girls. As they were approaching the gate of Ch'ien-t'ang, Chang looked up, for no particular reason. On the first story of a house a maiden held back her window curtain and looked at him. From her whole person emanated so troubling a charm that he stopped in his walk, and felt a tremor in his body. For a long time they remained gazing at each other, until she slowly broke into a smile, and he felt his soul fly from him. At this moment the door of the house opened below, and a man came forth; so Chang hastened to resume his walk, and returned in a few moments. The curtain was drawn back over the window. He waited, but there was no sign. At length he drew away, turning his head, and walking as slowly as if he had already gone a hundred leagues on the mountains. Yet eventually he passed the town gate and rejoined his friends on the boat, which was at once steered to the middle of the lake. The banks were smiling with peach blossom: the willow leaves were a mist of gold and green. Little boats, with brightly-dressed passengers, crossed and re-crossed like ants. In very truth: Hills are heaped upon hills And the pavilions on the pavilions. The songs and dances are never ceasing On the West Lake. The warm breeze fans the drunkenness Of the pleasure walkers. Heaven is above, But here we have Hang-chow and Su-chow Lakes. But Chang carried the picture of that young girl in his soul, and had no heart for pleasure. His companions offered him cups of wine, wondering at his melancholy; but he was far from them. At twilight they returned, and Chang re-entered by the Ch'ien-t'ang gate, passing before the girl's house. The window was shut. He stopped, and forced a cough; but there was no sign. He went to the end of the street, and came back again, but all was silent. Therefore he had no choice but to go away. He returned next morning, and stayed at a shop near by to learn what he could. He was told: "They are people called P'an. Their only daughter is sixteen years of age, and is named Eternal Life. The father has some connection with a certain powerful family which affords him protection. He lives by swindling, and everyone fears him. He is a veritable skin-pinker and bravo." This news made Chang a little thoughtful, but he walked on by the house nevertheless. The young girl was again at her window. They looked at each other; but there were people about, and he had to go away. That evening, as soon as night fell, he went back. The moon was shining as brightly as the sun, and the street was empty. The youthful beauty leaned at her window, wrapped in thought and bathed in the white light. She smiled at him, and he drew from his sleeve his scarlet muslin handkerchief. He made the knot known as "union of hearts gives victory." Rolling it in a ball, he threw it, and she adroitly caught it in two hands. Then she stooped and took off one of her little embroidered slippers. She dropped it into Chang's waiting fingers. Enraptured with this gift, which was a pledge of love and faith, he carried it to his lips and said softly: "Thank you; Thank you, with all my heart!" In tones of maddening sweetness, she replied: "Ten thousand happinesses!" Just then a rough voice was heard within the house. She made another sign to him and closed the window. And he went home drunk through silent streets made silver by the moon. Once in his library, he examined the slipper. It was a golden lotus, so small and so light that a thousand thoughts troubled the lover. He said: "I must find someone to arrange our meeting, or else die from an over-stressing of desire." Early in the morning, he put some pieces of silver in his sleeve and hastened to a little wine booth, not far from the house of P'an. He knew that he would find an old woman there, whom he often met in pleasurable places. In fact, he saw her and called to her. She at once saluted him, saying: "Aya! My uncle, what brings you?" "I happened to be passing," he answered carelessly. "But I should like you to walk a little way with me." "In what can I serve you?" she hastened to ask. Without speaking, he took her into a quiet little tavern. When they were seated, and the attendant had brought them fruit and dishes of food, he poured out a full cup of hot wine and offered it to her, saying: "I have something to ask of you, ma-ma Lu. But I am afraid that you cannot accomplish it." "Without boasting," she answered with a wide smile, "there are few enterprises, however difficult, in which I do not succeed. What is it you desire?" "I want you to arrange a meeting for me with the daughter of P'an, who lives in the Street of the Ten Officials. Here are five ounces of silver to begin with. If you succeed, you shall have quite as much more." "The small Eternal Life? The little witch! I thought her so demure! I should never have imagined she was a wild flower. But the matter is difficult. There are only the parents and the daughter in that house, and the father is dangerous. He keeps a damnably suspicious watch over his door. How could you get in? I dare not promise any success." "You have just boasted that you always succeed. Here are two ounces more." The old woman's eyes gleamed like fire at the sight of the snow-colored metal, and she said: "I will take the risk. If all goes well, it will be your fortune. If not, I shall at least have done my best. But give me a proof, for otherwise she would not listen to me." Not without regret, Chang took from his bosom the little slipper, and gave it to her, wrapped in his handkerchief. The old woman at once slipped it into her sleeve with the pieces of money. As she was leaving him, she said again: "The affair is delicate. You must have patience and not hurry me. That would be dangerous." "I only ask you to do your best. Come and tell me as soon as you have an answer." Eternal Life was profoundly agitated. Since that moonlit night she had had no more taste for food, but had said: "If I married him I would not have lived in vain. But I know neither his name nor where he lives. When I saw him beneath the moon, why had I not wings to fly to him? ... As it is, I had only this red handkerchief." Yet she had to live and speak as usual. But as soon as she was alone she fell again into her musing. Two days later, old Lu entered their house. The father had gone out. The visitor said to mother and daughter: "I received certain artificial flowers yesterday, and have come to show them to you." She took a bunch of a thousand shades out of her basket. "Would you not say they were real?" "When I was young," said the mother, "we only wore ordinary flowers, and did not dream of marvels like these." "Yet these are only considered mediocre. But the price of the finest is so high." "If we cannot buy them, we can at least admire them," the young girl answered dryly. With gathering smiles, the old woman took from the basket a bunch which was indeed incomparable. "And what is the price of that?" questioned the mother. "How should I dare to fix a price? I leave it to you. But if you have a little tea, I would willingly drink of it." "In the admiration caused by your flowers, we have forgotten our manners. Wait for one moment, while I fetch some boiling water." As soon as the mother had left the room, the woman took a slight parcel from her sleeve. "What have you there?" asked Eternal Life. "Something important which you must not see." "Oh, but I must see it then." "I shall not give it to you," said the cunning old woman. "Aya! You have taken it from me by force!" she added, letting the parcel into the girl's hand. Impatiently the child untied the handkerchief, and recognized her slipper. Her face flushed into scarlet, and she said with difficulty: "A single one of these objects is of no use, ma-ma. Why did you show it me?" "I know a certain Lord who would give his life to have the pair. Will you not consent to help me?" Trembling all over, Eternal Life said to her softly: "Since you know all, tell me his name and where he lives." "He is called Chang, and he owns a hundred myriads of ounces. He is very gentle; his love is as deep as the sea. He has lost his soul through thinking of you, and has bidden me arrange a means for his entry." "How can it be done? My father is terrible. When I have blown out my lamp, he often comes to look into the rooms. What is your plan, ma-ma?" The old woman thought for a minute, and then said: "It is not very difficult. You must go to bed early and, as soon as your father has come up and gone down again, you must rise quietly and open the window. You must wait for a signal, and let down a long piece of cloth. He will climb up with the help of this rope, and, if he is careful to go away before the fifth watch, no one will surprise you." "Admirable!" cried the delighted child. "When will he come?" "It is too late to-day. But I will go to him to-morrow morning. Give me a pledge of re-assurance for him." "Assuredly! Take the other slipper. He will give it back to me to-morrow." The old woman hid it in her sleeve, for the mother came in by this time with the tea. Soon after, she took up her basket and went away, accompanied to the door by the two women. She went straight to the house of Chang, but he was out. She offered her flowers to the women of the house, waiting for some part of the day in vain. Next morning she went again to find the young man, but he had not returned. She went away thoughtful. The truth is that Chang had remained three days in the house of a Flower-in-the-Mist. When he returned and heard of the old woman's two visits, he hastened to find her. She said to him: "The pledge of love which you entrusted to me is in her hand. She bade me tell you that her father is dangerous, but that he is to be away for a long time shortly. She will inform us." On his return journey the young man passed by P'an's house. Eternal Life was at her window, and they smiled tenderly at one another. * * * * * Three months had passed. Chang was sitting one morning in his library, when his servants told him that four police officers had come with a summons. He asked himself fearfully whether he had been mixed up in any scandal at a pleasure house; but he had to obey. He questioned the officers. "It is a matter of taxes and duties," they answered. Reassured, he changed his clothes and went with them, followed by several of his servants. He was taken at once to the hall where the Court sat, and, standing before the red table, he saluted the magistrate. The latter looked at him intently, and harshly asked: "How did you enter into an intrigue with P'an's daughter? How did you kill her father and her mother?" Chang was a libertine. That is to say he had neither strength nor energy. Hearing himself thus unexpectedly accused of a double crime, he shook from head to foot, as if a bolt had fallen on him from a calm sky. He stammered: "Although I had the intention of establishing a connection with her, I have not yet succeeded in doing so. As yet I have not known her house." The Governor thundered: "She has just confessed that her relation with you has lasted several months. How dare you deny it?" Just then Chang perceived that the young girl was kneeling close to him. Bewildered and not knowing what to do, he turned to Eternal Life and asked: "How can you say that I have been intimate with you? With what object are you trying to encompass my ruin?" She sobbed without answering. Meanwhile the Governor called upon the officers to apply the buskin of torture to the young man. And they swarmed about him like ants. Unhappily for him, Chang Loyalty had been brought up in muslin and gauze, and had grown to manhood in a brocade. How could he endure such torture? Hardly had he felt the pressure of the buskin before he cried: "I confess everything!" The Governor had a brush and paper given to the accused, that he might himself write out his confession. The unhappy man wept, saying: "What must I write? I know nothing of the matter!" Then he turned to the young girl and added: "Do you at least tell me what you have done, so that I may write my confession." Eternal Life answered in irritation: "Did you not look at me with lecherous eyes under my window? Did you not throw your handkerchief? Did you not match the pair of my embroidered slippers?" "All that is true. But about the rest?" The Governor here interrupted: "If one thing is true, the rest is also. What is the use of arguing it? Since he refuses to write, let him be given thirty strokes of the heavy bamboo, let him be cast into the cell for those who are condemned to death." Happily for Chang, his gaolers knew that he was very rich. They but touched him with their blows, and led him to prison with as much care as they would a butterfly. Each of them cried: "Uncle, how could you do such a thing?" "O my elder brothers," he lamented, "if it is true that I desired this girl, yet have I never met her. Do you believe that I could be a murderer? I know nothing about the murder. Tell me of it." So he learned that, this very morning, Eternal Life on waking up had been surprised by the silence of the house. From the ground-floor room where she had passed the night, she had gone up to the story where her parents slept, and had opened the door of their room. In front of the bed, under the half-drawn curtains, the floor was a tarn of blood. She was so frightened that she tumbled down the stairs and fell upon the street door, sobbing and crying out. Neighbors heard her and ran up, and she said to them: "Yesterday, my parents went up to their room. I do not know who has killed them both." The bolder ones went up the stairs to see. They opened the bed-curtains, and there were the man and his wife, stiff and with their throats cut across. They looked to right and left. The window was shut, and nothing was disturbed. "It is a serious matter," they muttered. "Let us not act hastily." One of them went at once to warn the district chief of police, who came and examined the scene of the crime. He shut and sealed the house, and led Eternal Life to the Governor's Court. The girl knelt down and told all that she knew, and the Governor said: "If the door and windows were closed, and nothing has been stolen, the matter is dubious. Had your father an enemy?" "Not to my knowledge." "That is strange!" murmured the Governor, and thought for a moment. Suddenly he told the officers to take off the silken veil with which the young girl had half-covered her head. He could then see her exceptional beauty. "How old are you? Are you not betrothed?" "I am seventeen, and I am still free." "And you sleep on the ground-floor, while your parents have their room above? That is very curious." "Until quite recently your slave slept above. But fifteen days ago they made a change. I do not know why." The judge again reflected. Then he struck the table violently, crying out: "It is you who have killed your father and mother. Or, rather, it is your lover. Tell me his name." "Your slave never leaves the house. How could she have a forbidden love? Would not the neighbors know it?" The judge made a salacious grimace: "In a case of murder the neighbors know nothing. It is clear that you have had relations with a man. Your parents knew of it, and that is why they changed their room. Your lover killed them in a rage." Hearing these words, she became scarlet and then pale. At a sign from the Governor, the gaolers threw themselves like tigers upon the little girl, closing a cruel pair of iron nippers on her pellucid and delicate jade hand. As the jaws began to crush her fingers, she uttered loud cries: "Mercy, my lord. I have a lover." "What is his name?" "Chang Loyalty." And then she fainted. The Governor knew enough. He summoned the young man and, being convinced of his guilt, had him put in prison, while awaiting further information. It is well said in a certain proverb: "Even while you are sitting in your house with the doors shut, misfortune falls from heaven." In prison, Chang reflected upon this sudden accusation. Could he have committed this double crime in his sleep? In the end he offered his gaolers ten ounces if they would take him to Eternal Life. When they bargained, he promised twenty ounces. Then they led him as far as the grill of the women's prison. The girl was there, weeping without stint. As soon as she saw him, she reviled him between her sobs: "Ungrateful and dishonorable! You made me mad with love for you. Why should you cut my parents' throats, and cause my death?" "Do not make unnecessary noise," he interrupted. "Let us rather try to clear up this mystery. It is certain that I sent the old woman Lu to you with your little slipper. Did you see her?" "Naturally, wretch," she answered disdainfully. Again he interrupted: "She told me that you had kept your pledge, that your father was terrible, and that you were awaiting his departure in order to arrange a meeting. But since then I have known nothing of you, save a few rare smiles." "Forgetful murderer," she groaned, "again you deny it. Did you not confess all before the judge? Why do you come to torment me." "My unfortunate body could not endure the torture. By confessing I gained some days of life. Do not fly into a rage, but answer me: what happened after ma-ma Lu had visited you?" "We arranged everything for the next night. You came and gave me back my slipper. Since then you have climbed up to my room each night. Dare you say it is not true?" Chang thought deeply. The bystanders wondered whether he were guilty and seeking a clever explanation to save himself, or whether he were really innocent. At last he said: "Then if we have met often, you should be very certain of my voice and body. Look at me well, and think." The gaolers exclaimed: "What he says is just. If there were a mistake, would you leave him to die?" Eternal Life was puzzled, and looked at him earnestly. He repeated: "Is it I? Dear heart, speak quickly!" "He who came," she said at last, "was perhaps bigger. But it was always dark, and how can I be sure? But I remember that on your left shoulder you have a scar as big as a copper piece." The bystanders at once exclaimed: "That is easy to verify. There can be no further mistake. Uncle, unclothe yourself quickly. If there is nothing there, we shall inform the Governor." Chang immediately uncovered his shoulder, and the white flesh was as smooth as marble. Eternal Life could not believe her eyes. When the young man had gone back, filled full of hope, to his prison, the gaolers made their report to the Governor, who had already summoned ma-ma Lu. In the audience chamber the old woman knelt down and was quite overcome. The judge began by ordering her forty strokes for having acted as an abettor of corruption. The flesh of her thighs was nothing but a bloody paste. She told the whole story. After coming back from Chang's house without having seen him, old Lu had found her son Wu-han in their little food shop. He had said to her: "You come at the right time. I must kill a pig this morning, and our assistant has gone out for the day." The old woman did not like this work. But she was very much afraid of her son, and did not dare to refuse. "Wait till I have changed my clothes!" was all she said. While she was taking off her outer garment, a parcel fell from the sleeve of it. Thinking that it was money, Wu-han quickly picked it up and opened it. It was the pair of embroidered slippers. He said: "Oh! Oh! Who is the little girl who has such feet? She must be of a very loving nature. If I could hold her to my heart for a whole night, I should not have lived in vain. But how do these slippers come here, for they have already been worn?" "Give them back to me!" she cried. "There is much money in them, which I will hand to you." And she told him the whole matter. But he objected: "It has been a common saying from the earliest times that acts not committed can alone remain unknown. This P'an is a bravo. If he learns of the matter, all the silver which you receive will be too little to buy his silence. Our whole shop would fall into his hands." In dismay the old woman replied: "Your words are full of reason. I am going to give back the silver and the slippers. I am going to let it be understood that I refuse to embroil myself with curtain affairs." "Where is the silver?" he asked. The old woman took it from her sleeve, and he put it into his, saying: "Leave all to me. If they should happen to come and seek a quarrel with us, we shall have proofs against them. And, if nothing comes of it, no one will dare to reclaim the money." "But what shall I say if he asks me for news?" "That you have not had time enough. Or even that the matter cannot be arranged." What could she do, she who was thus deprived of the money and the pledge of love? She was surely obliged to lie. As for Wu-han, he at once went out and spent the money on rich clothes and a fine gauze bonnet. In the evening, when his mother was asleep, he put on his pretty clothes and set the slippers in his sleeve. As the great clock sounded the first watch, he went out softly and made straight for the house of P'an. Light clouds were hiding the moon. It was only half full. He coughed before the house. The window opened, and Eternal Life appeared. She tied a piece of silk to the frame, and let the other end fall. He caught it and climbed up, making use of the projections of the wall with his two feet. Then, with a thousand precautions, he stepped over the sill. Trembling, the girl hastened to draw back the piece of silk and to shut the window. Then he took the child in his arms, and passion leaped up in their two hearts. In the darkness, and in such emotion, how could that mistake be known? The usurper drew her towards him. Even so is the precious scented flower of the nutmeg embraced by the bind-weed. Even so is the plum blossom torn by the hail. Even so is the sparrow's nest most outraged by the cuckoo. When the first clouds of their desire were dissipated by the rain of caresses, Wu-han took from his sleeve the pledges of love. She gave them back to him: "Now that I am happy, I no more wish to go out." About the fourth watch, before daylight, Wu-han arose and climbed stealthily down to the street. Since that time there had to be a storm of rain, or the moon had to be very clear, to prevent Wu-han from hurrying to the small woman. The days, and then the months, passed in this way. One night the deceiver accidentally made some noise as he went away. P'an immediately came up to them, but saw nothing; for Eternal Life succeeded in not betraying herself. Next night she warned her lover, saying to him in her sense: "Do not come for a few days. That will be safer. Let us give them time to forget about it." But her father had his ears on the alert; he heard the window creak, and he ran up, though again too late. In the morning he said to his wife: "This baby is certainly about some villainy. She keeps her mouth as tight as a trap." "I also have a suspicion," replied her mother. "Yet the room opens on to the stairs, which come down into our room." "I am going to give her a good taste of the rod to make her speak." "That is a bad plan, a very bad plan," said her mother. "It is a true proverb that you must not show family blemishes. If you beat her, all the neighbors will know, and who would wish to marry her? Let us rather make her sleep in our room, which has no way out except the door. We will spend the night up the stairs, and see what happens." On being told of this proposal, Eternal Life dared not say anything. And on the higher floor husband and wife slept in peace. One evening Wu-ban felt his heart seething with passion. Fearing that he might be attacked by P'an, he armed himself with a knife, which he used to cut pigs' throats. Under Eternal Life's window, he coughed softly. Nothing stirred. He coughed more loudly, thinking she was asleep. But everything remained quiet. He was going back to his house, in a thoughtful mood, when he saw a ladder left near to a house which was being built. He seized upon it, carried it away, and put it up against Eternal Life's window. The catch was not locked. He pushed it open, climbed over the sill, and silently went toward the bed. Drunken with joy, Wu-ban was already disrobing himself of his clothes, when, in the stillness of the night, his ears caught the sound of two people breathing, instead of one. He listened with controlled breath. Unmistakably the rough breathing of a man was mingled with the softer murmur of a woman. He was suddenly blinded with violent anger: "This is why she did not answer my signal. The vile child has another man within. It was to get rid of me that she told me of her father's suspicion!" In his jealous madness he drew his knife and gently felt for the man's throat. With a clean blow he drove the weapon into the flesh, and before the woman could move, he cut her throat also, almost beheading her. He wiped the knife and his hands on the blanket, opened the window, and descended. He had closed the catches. Once outside, he ran to replace the ladder, and went back to his house. Denounced by his mother and brought before the Court, Wu-ban tried to deny the accusation. But the officers, on uncovering his shoulder, brought a scar to view. Eternal Life recognized his voice and his body. The first tortures overcame his obstinacy, and he confessed all. The murderer was condemned to slow death. Eternal Life was strangled, as was old Lu. Chang, whose lecherous intentions had been the cause of all, was sentenced to a heavy fine. In dismay, and half ruined, he no more left his study chamber. Not long afterwards, he was carried off by a lassitude and a languor. _Lu Wu-han yin liu ho chin hsieh (Lu Wi-han keeps an Embroidered Slipper to his scathe) Hsing Shih heng yen (1627), 16th Tale._ THE COUNTERFEIT OLD WOMAN During the Ch'eng-Hua period of our dynasty, there lived at Shantung a young man named Flowering Mulberry, whose parents possessed a sufficient fortune. He had just bound up his hair beneath his man's bonnet; his fresh and rosy complexion added to the delicate charm of his features. One day, as he was going to visit an uncle in a neighboring village, he was overtaken on the way by a heavy storm of rain, and ran for shelter into a disused temple; and there, seated on the ground waiting for the rain to stop, was an old woman. Flowering Mulberry sat down and, since the storm grew more violent, resigned himself to wait. Finding him beautiful, the old woman began to converse and ingratiate herself with him, until at length she came across to him, and finally her hands wandered gently over his body. He found this an agreeable manner of passing the time, but said after a little while: "How is it that, although you are a woman, you have the voice of a man?" "My son, I will tell you the truth, but you must not reveal it to anybody. I am not really a woman, but a man. When I was little, I used often to disguise myself and mimic the shrill tones of young girls; and I even learned to sew just as well as they. I used often to go to the neighboring market towns, pretending that I was a young girl and offering to do needlework; and my skill was soon much admired by all the dwellers in the houses where I worked. "I used to mingle with the women, and by degrees, according to the licentiousness of their thought, we would enjoy our pleasure. Soon the women found that they had no more occasion to go out for their dalliance; and even the sober-minded girls among them became involved. They did not dare to say anything, for fear of the scandal; and also I had a drug which I applied during the night to their faces, stupefying them so that they allowed me to do as I liked. When they recovered their senses it was too late, and they dared not protest. On the contrary, they used to bribe me with gold and silken stuffs to keep silence and to leave their house. Ever since then--and I am now forty-seven years of age--I have never again put on a man's garments. I have traveled throughout the two capitals and the nine provinces, and always when I see a beautiful woman I contrive to go to her house. In this way I accumulate riches with but little labor; and I have never been found out." "What an astonishing tale!" cried the fascinated Flowering Mulberry. "I wonder whether I could do the like." "One as beautiful as you are," answered the other, "will be taken for a woman by everyone. If you wish me to be your instructor you have only to come with me. I will bind up your feet, and teach you to sew; and we will go into every house together. You shall be my niece. If we find a good opportunity I shall give you a little of my drug, and you will then have no difficulty in achieving your purpose." The young man's heart was devoured by a desire to put this adventure to the proof. Without further hesitation he prostrated himself four times, and adopted the old woman as his master, taking not a moment's thought for his parents or for his honor. Such an intoxicating thing is vice. When it had stopped raining, he set out with the old woman; and as soon as they were beyond the boundaries of Shantung they purchased hair-pins and feminine dresses. The disguise was perfect, and anyone would have sworn that Flowering Mulberry was an authentic woman. He changed his first name for that of Niang "the little girl," though for a few days he was so embarrassed that he did not dare to speak. But his master seemed no longer wishful to look for fresh victims. Every evening he insisted upon his niece sharing his bed; and up to a very late hour would proceed with his instruction and that even to the furthest detail. It was not for this that Flowering Mulberry had disguised himself. One day he declared that thenceforward each should go his own way, and the other was bound to agree; but before leaving him, he gave the boy some further advice: "Two highly important rules are to be observed in our profession. The first is not to stop too long in the same house. If you stayed in the one place more than half a month, you would certainly be discovered. Therefore often change your district, so that from month to month there may be no time for the traces of your passage to become noticeable. The second rule is not to let a man come near you. You are beautiful, young and alone in life, and they will all wish to interfere with you. Therefore always surround yourself with women. One last word: have nothing to do with little girls; for they cry out and weep." So then the two parted. In the first village he came to, Flowering Mulberry perceived through a door the silhouette of a most graceful young woman, and struck upon the door by its copper knocker. The girl opened, and looked at him through eyes filled with fire. A needle-woman was just what they required. But in the evening the boy was disappointed by the arrival of a husband, whose lusty appearance left him small hope for the night. He was forced to wait until the young woman was left alone in the house by day, and came to work in the chamber where he sat. Then he ventured an observation upon the appearance of the countryside, and afterwards congratulated her on her husband. She blushed, and their conversation became more intimate. It was not until the next day, however, that he dared to make an advance. This met with immediate success. Two days afterwards he was forced into a hurried departure; for the husband had taken notice of him, and profited by his wife's momentary absence to suggest caresses. Thenceforward he followed his trade. At the age of thirty-two he had travelled over more than half the empire, and had beguiled several thousand women. Often, he was so bold as to attack more than eight persons at a time, in a single house, and not even the little slaves escaped his attention. The happiness of which he was thus the cause remained unsuspected, and no one suffered by it, since none could dream of its existence. He always remembered his master's rule, and never risked staying for more than a few days in the same place. At last he came to the province West-of-the-River, and was received into an important house, where there were more than fifteen women, all beautiful and young. His feeling toward each of these was of so lively a nature that twenty days had passed before he could make up his mind to go away. Now the husband of one of these girls perceived him and, at once falling in love with him, arranged that his wife should cause him to come to their house. Flowering Mulberry went, suspecting nothing, and hardly had he entered before the man came into the room, took him by the waist and embraced him. Naturally he protested and began to cry out; but the husband took not the slightest notice of that. He pushed him on to the next room and searched him with shameless hands. It was his turn to cry out: the slaves ran in, bound Flowering Mulberry, and led him to the court of justice. In front of the judge he tried to plead that he had adopted his disguise in order to gain his living. But torture drew from him his real name and the true motive of his behavior, together with an account of his latest exploits. The Governor sent a report to the higher authorities, for he had no precedent and knew not to what punishment to condemn him. The Viceroy decided that the case must come under the law of adultery, and also under that which dealt with the propagation of immorality. The penalty was a slow death. No extenuating circumstances were admitted. So ended this story. _Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 10th Tale._ THE MONASTERY OF THE ESTEEMED-LOTUS In the town of Eternal Purity there was once a large monastery dedicated to the Esteemed-Lotus. It contained hundreds of rooms, and its grounds covered several thousand acres. Its wealth and prosperity were due to the possession of a famous relic. The bonzes, who numbered about a hundred, lived in luxury; and visitors were sure to be received by one of them from the moment of entry, and to be invited to take tea and cakes. Now in the temple there was a "Babies' Chapel," which was reputed to possess miraculous virtue. By passing the night in it and burning incense, women who wished to have a son obtained a son: those who wished for a daughter obtained a daughter. Round the main hall were set several cells. Women who wished for children had to be of vigorous age and free from malady. They used to fast for seven days, and then go into the temple to prostrate themselves before Fo, and to consult the wands of divination. If the omens were favorable, they passed a night locked up alone in one of the cells, for the purpose of prayer. If the omens were unfavorable, it was because their prayers had not been sufficiently sincere. The bonzes made this fault known to them; and they began their seven days' fast anew, before returning to make their devotions. The cells had no sort of opening in their walls, and when a penitent entered one of them, her family and attendants used to come and install her. As soon as night came, she was locked in the cell, and the bonzes insisted that a member of her family must pass the night before her door, so that none might entertain the least suspicion of an entry to her. When the woman returned to her home, the child was already formed. It was born fat and beautiful always, and without any blemish. There was, moreover, no household, either of public officials or the common people, which did not send one or even two of its members to pray in the Babies' Chapel. And women came to it even from the provinces. Every day the crowd in the monastery was comparable with mountains or the sea, and the place was filled with the gayest hubbub. They no longer kept any reckoning of the offerings of every kind which flowed in upon them. When the women were asked how, during the night, the P'u-sa had made his answer intelligible, some answered simply that Fo had told them in a dream that they would have a son. Others said that they had dreamed that a lo-han had come and lain beside them. Others asserted that they had had no dream. Others again blushed and declined to answer. Some women never repeated this kind of prayer a second time: others, on the contrary, went to the temple as often as possible. You will tell me that this story of a Fo or of a P'u-sa coming every night to the monastery is in no way short of preposterous. But it must be borne in mind that the people of that district had a greater faith in sorcerers than in doctors, and could not distinguish the true from the false. Consequently they continued to send their wives to the temple. As a matter of course these bonzes, whose outward behavior was so laudable and correct, were wholly and unreservedly gluttons within, both for luxury and debauch. Although the cells were apparently quite close, each really had a secret door. When the women were sound asleep, the bonzes came softly into the cell, and to such purpose that, when their victims were aroused, it was already almost too late. Those who would have wished to protest kept silence for the sake of their reputations. Now the women were young and sound: the bonzes were strong and vigorous. They had, moreover, taken the precaution to cause certain special pills to be administered to their visitors. Consequently it but rarely happened that these prayers were not heard. Sober-minded wives would have died with shame sooner than confess the matter to their husbands; and, as for the others, they kept quiet so that they might be able to do it again. Matters were in this case when a new Governor was appointed to the district, the Lord Wang. Soon after he entered upon his office, he heard tell of the Monastery of the Esteemed-Lotus, and could not help thinking: "Since it is Fo and P'u-sa who are involved, it should be enough simply to pray. Why, then, must the women also go and pass the night in the temple? There must be some questionable artifice in that." But he could do nothing without proof; so he waited until the ninth Sun of the ninth Moon, which was a great festival, and then mixed with the crowd of the faithful who went to the holy place. Passing through the main gate, he found himself beneath great acacias and hundred-year-old pines. Before him stood the temple, brightly painted with vermilion and decorated by a tablet on which was inscribed in gold letters: "Monastery of the Esteemed-Lotus, for Retirement." To right and left was a succession of pavilions, and innumerable visitors were going out and coming in. The first bonze who saw the Governor wished to run and warn his companions. The Lord Wang attempted to stop him, but he broke loose, and soon the drums and bells were sounding to do honor to the magistrate, while the bonzes formed in two ranks and bowed as he passed along. He entered the temple and burned some joss-sticks; after which the Superior made him a low obeisance and begged him to come and rest himself for a moment in the reception hall. Tea was served. Then, concealing his true design, the Governor said: "I have learned of the great reputation of this Holy Retreat, and I intend to ask the Emperor to grant you a tablet of honor inscribed with the names and particulars of all the bonzes of the district." Naturally the delighted Superior wished to prostrate himself in thanks; but the Governor continued: "They have spoken to me also of a miraculous chapel. Is the matter so in truth? And in what manner are these prayers made?" The Superior answered without misgiving that the period of fasting was seven days; but that by reason of the greatness of their desire and the sincerity of their prayers it most frequently happened that the petitions of the suppliants were granted in a dream during the night which they passed at the monastery. The Governor asked carelessly what measures were taken to ensure the preservation of the proprieties; and the other explained that the cells had no other entrance than the door, before which a member of the family had to pass the night. "Since that is the case," said the visitor, "I shall send my wife here." "If you wish for a son, it is only necessary for both of you to pray sincerely in your palace, and the miracle will be accomplished," the Superior assured him hastily; for he was greatly afraid to see the local authorities concerning themselves in this affair. "But why must the wives of the people come here, if my wife need not disturb herself to do so?" "Are you not the protector of our doctrine, and is it not natural that the spirits should pay special attention to your prayers?" answered the astute bonze. "So be it," agreed Wang. "But allow me to visit this miraculous chapel." The hall was filled with women, who fled to right and left. The statue of Kwan-yin was covered with necklaces and pieces of embroidery. She was represented holding a child in her arms, while four or five babies clung to her robe. The altar and the walls were covered with votive offerings, chiefly consisting of embroidered slippers. Candles beyond number were held in branches of candlesticks. The hall was filled with the smoke of incense. To the left was the immortal Chang who gives us children. To the right was the "Officer of the Star of Extended Longevity." Wang bowed before the goddess. Then he went to visit the penitents' cells. Each ceiling was painted over with flowers, a carpet covered each floor and the bed, the table and the chairs were spotlessly clean. He examined the cells carefully all over and found no crack. Not a mouse, not even an ant could have entered in. He went out in perplexity and, after the usual formalities, again stepped into his palankeen, which was accompanied to the gate by all the bonzes. Thinking to the right and musing to the left, as the proverb says, the Governor suddenly conceived a plan. As soon as he arrived at the palace, he summoned one of his secretaries, and said to him: "Go and find me two harlots, and clothe them as honest women. Give one of them a box of black ink and the other a box of vermilion paste, and send them to pass the night at the monastery. If any one approaches them, let them mark his head with the red and the black. I shall go myself to-morrow morning to examine the matter. Above all, let this thing be kept the closest secret." The secretary at once went to seek out two public women of his acquaintance. One was named Mei-chieh, and the other Wan-erh. He took them to his house, explained the Governor's orders to them, and clothed them as matrons of good family. He summoned two palankeens, which he caused the sham penitents to enter, and himself conducted the procession to the monastery. He left the women in their cells, and came back to inform the monk on duty. After his departure, a little novice brought tea to the present visitors, who were more than ten in number. Who would have thought of troubling to examine the two new arrivals? At the sounding of the first watch, all the cells were locked. The members of the various families took up their positions before the doors. The bonzes shut themselves into their own apartments. When Mei-chieh found herself alone, she put her little box of vermilion near the pillow, turned up the lamp, undressed herself, and lay upon the bed. But she was unable to sleep for thinking of her mission, and continually kept looking through the bed curtains. The second watch sounded. On every side the sounds of human life were silenced, and all things were still. Suddenly she heard, under the floor, this noise: Ko-Ko. She sat up, thinking it was a rat, and saw a part of the floor move to one side. A shaven head appeared, and was quickly followed by the whole body. It was a bonze. Mei-chieh was astounded, and thought: "So these rascally priests have been outraging honest women!" But she did not stir. The bonze quietly blew out the lamp, came towards the bed, let fall his robe, and slipped under the blankets. Mei-chieh pretended to be asleep. She felt him gently move her leg to one side, and then she made as though to wake saying: "Who are you who come in the night and insult me?" She pushed him away, but the bonze embraced her in his arms, and whispered: "I am a lo-han with a body of gold, and I have come to give you a son." While speaking, he busied himself in accordance with his salacity. It must be said that all bonzes have no mean talent in the matter of cloud and rain; and this one was full of vigorous manhood. Mei-chieh was a woman of great experience, but she was unable to resist him and had difficulty, at length, in repressing herself. However, she took advantage of his arriving at the supreme point of his emotion to dip her fingers in the box of vermilion and to mark his head without his perceiving it. After a certain time, the bonze glided from the bed, leaving the girl a little packet, and saying: "Here are some pills to assist your prayer. Take three-tenths of an ounce each day in hot water, and you will have a son." Weary in body, Mei-chieh was just dimly closing her eyes, when she was aroused by a fresh touch, and, thinking that the same bonze had returned, said in surprise: "What? Are you able to come back again, when even I am so tired?" But he answered without a pause: "You are making a mistake! I have but just come, and the saviour of my comforts is as yet unknown to you." "But, I am tired...." "In that case, take one of these pills...." And he handed her a packet. But she was afraid that it might be poison and placed it on the bed, contriving in the same movement to dip her fingers in the vermilion and to stroke the newcomer's head. He was even more terrible than the former, and did not cease before cock-crow. As the old song says: In an old stone mortar Where so many pestles have been worn away, There is need of a heavy copper hammer, Or the work is lost. At dawn, another bonze appeared and said to them in a low voice: "Perhaps you have had your fill. Is not my turn coming?" The first bonze gave a chuckle, but rose and went out. The other then got upon the bed, and very gently caressed Mei-chieh. She pretended to repulse him, but he kissed her upon the lips, and said in her ear: "If he has fatigued you, I have here some pills which will restore the Springtime of your thoughts." And he thrust a pill into her mouth, which she could not avoid swallowing. A perfume rose from her mouth into her nostrils, and caused her bones to melt, imbuing her body with delicious warmth. But, even while thinking of herself, Mei-chieh did not forget the Governor's orders. She marked the head of this new assailant also, saying: "What a nice sleek old pate!" The bonze burst out laughing: "I am full of tender and reliable emotions. I am not like the unmannerly people of our town. Come and see me often." And he retired. Meanwhile the Governor had left his yamen by the fifth watch, before the day had yet broken, accompanied by an escort of about a hundred resolute men, carrying chains and manacles. Arriving at the still closed gate of the monastery, he made the greater part of his train hide to the right and left, keeping only some ten men about him. The secretary knocked at the gate, crying that the Governor was there and wished to enter. The first bonzes who heard his shout made haste to arrange their garments and receive the visitor. But the Lord Wang, paying no attention to their salutations, went straight to the apartment of the Superior, who was already up and prepared to begin the ritual of his greeting. But the Governor dryly ordered him to summon all the bonzes, and to show him the Convent register. Somewhat alarmed, the Superior ordered bells and drums to be sounded, and the bonzes, snatched from their sleep, ran up in groups. When the names written on the register had been called, the Governor commanded the astonished monks to remove their skullcaps. In the full light of the morning sun three heads were seen to be marked with vermilion, but, Oh, prodigy, no less than eleven heads were covered with black ink! "It no longer surprises me that these prayers should be so successful," murmured the secretary. "Indeed these bonzes are very conscientious!" Lord Wang pointed out the guilty ones, and caused them to be put in chains, asking: "Whence come these marks of red and black upon you?" But the kneeling monks looked at each other and could not answer, while the whole assembly remained stricken with wonder at this strange event. Meanwhile the secretary had gone into the Babies' Chapel and, by dint of shouting, had roused the two harlots from a heavy sleep. They quickly put on their garments, and came to kneel before the Governor, who asked them: "What did you see during the night? Tell me the whole truth." Since they had agreed to the mission, the two women rendered a plain account of the events of that night, showing the pills which the bonzes had given them, and also their boxes of vermilion and black. The bonzes, seeing that their schemes were brought to light, felt their livers turn and their hearts put out of working. They groaned in their secret despair, while the fourteen culprits beat the earth with their brows and begged for mercy. "Miserable wretches, you dare to preach divine intervention, so that you may deceive the foolish and outrage the virtuous! What have you to say?" But the cunning Superior already had his plan. He ordered all the bonzes to kneel, and said: "These unhappy ones whom you have convicted are without excuse. But they were the only ones who dared to act so. All my other monks are pure. You have been able to discover the shame of the guilty, which I in my ignorance could not, and there is nothing for it but to put them to death." The Governor smiled: "Then it is only the cells which these two women occupied that have secret passages?" "There are only those two cells," answered the unblushing Superior. "We shall question all the other women, and then see." The female visitors, who had already been wakened by the noise, came in turns to give their evidence. They were all in agreement: no bonze had come to trouble them. But the Governor knew that shame would prevent them from speaking, and therefore had them searched. In the pocket of each was found a little packet of pills. He asked them whence these came; but the women, purple in the face and scarlet in the neck, answered no word. While this examination was taking place, the husbands of the penitents came up and took a part in it. And their anger made them tremble like the hemp-plant or leaves of a tree. When the Governor, who did not wish to push his questioning too far, had allowed the visitors to depart, their husbands swallowed their shame and indignation, and led them away. The Superior had not yet given up the fight. He asserted that the pills had been given to the women as they entered the monastery. But the two harlots again affirmed that they at least had received them during the visit of the bonzes. "The matter is quite clear," the Governor cried at length. "Put all of these adulterers in chains!" The bonzes had some thought of resisting; but they had no weapons and were outnumbered. The only ones left free were an old man who kindled the incense, and the two little novices still in childhood. The gate of the monastery was closed and guarded. On his return to the yamen, the Governor took his seat in the Hall of Justice, and had his prisoners questioned in the usual ways. Fear of pain loosened their tongues, and they were condemned to death. They were cast into prison to await the ratification of their sentence. As the Governor of the prison went his rounds to inspect their bonds, the Superior whispered to him: "We have brought nothing, neither clothes, nor blankets, nor food. If you will allow me to return for a moment to the monastery with three or four of my monks, I will willingly give you a hundred ounces of silver." The prison governor knew the wealth of the monastery. He smiled: "My price is a hundred ounces for myself, and two hundred for my men." The Superior made a grimace, but was compelled to promise this larger sum. The warders consulted with each other, and finally, when night came, led the Superior and three of his bonzes back to the monastery. From a secret place among their cells the monks took the promised three hundred ounces, and gave them at once to the warders. While these were weighing them and sharing them among themselves, they collected the rest of their treasure, and secretly laid hold of weapons, short swords and hatchets, which they rolled up in their blankets. Also they brought away wine. Thus heavily laden, warders and bonzes alike returned to the prison, and held a feast. The priests succeeded in making their warders drunk. In the middle of the night they drew forth their weapons and, having first set each other free, proceeded to force the gates. They might perhaps have escaped altogether; but in their rancour against the Governor they went first to attack the yamen. The troops of police were numerous and well armed, and the bonzes were quickly overcome. The Superior gave his men orders to return as quickly as possible to the prison, to lay down their arms and to say that only a few of them had revolted, since this might save the others. But the warders attacked them so hotly that they were all put back in chains. Their crime was grave, and doubly aggravated by rebellion. Next day, when the sun had well risen, the Governor gave his judgment. All the hundred and twelve monks were led straight to the market-place and beheaded. Groups of men provided with torches went to set fire to the monastery, and it was soon a smoking ruin. Joy flowered upon the faces of all the men of that town. But it is said that many of the women wept in secret. _Adapted from Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 39th Tale._ A COMPLICATED MARRIAGE Marriages have from all time been arranged beforehand by Heaven. If such is the will of destiny, the most distantly separated persons come together, and the nearest neighbors never see each other. All is settled before birth, and every effort of mortals does but accomplish the decree of Fate. This is proved by the following story. During the Ching-yu period of the Sung dynasty, there lived at Hang-chow a doctor named Liu. His wife had given him a son and a daughter. The son, who was but sixteen years old, had been called Virgin Diamond, and was betrothed to young Pearl, of the family of Sun. He was brilliant in his studies, and gave every promise that he would one day attain to the highest literary standard, and to the greatest honor. The daughter was named Prudence. She was fifteen years old, and had just received marriage gifts from her betrothed, the son of P'ei, a neighboring druggist. Her eyebrows were like the feelers of a butterfly, and her eyes had the grace of those of a phoenix. Her hips, flexible as willow branches swayed by the wind, wakened the liveliest feeling. Her face was that of a flower; and the nimbleness of her light body brought to mind the flight of swallows. The go-between who had concluded Prudence's betrothal came one day at the instance of the P'ei family to ask that marriage might be hastened. But Liu had determined first to accomplish the ceremonies for his son, and accordingly took customary steps with this object in view, so that a day was at length fixed. But when the appointed time was drawing near, Virgin Diamond fell seriously ill. His father, Liu, wished to postpone the ceremony, but his mother argued that perhaps joy would cure him better than medicine. "But if, by mischance, our son should die?" he insisted. "We will send back the bride and all the gifts, and the family will have nothing to say." The doctor, like many men, was wax in the hands of his wife, and therefore her wish was fulfilled. But it chanced that one of their neighbors had been slightly affronted by them, and had never forgiven them. He heard of Virgin Diamond's illness, and spoke of it to the family of Sun. Sun had no intention of compromising his daughter's future; so he summoned and questioned the go-between who had arranged the betrothal. The poor woman was in a great quandary, fearing to offend either the one family or the other; yet she was compelled to admit the truth. In her anxiety she ran to the house of Liu to obtain a postponement of the marriage until Virgin Diamond's recovery, and hinted that, failing this, Sun would send his old nurse to see the sick bridegroom. Liu did not know what to do, and before he had come to a decision, the nurse arrived. He saluted her, not knowing what excuse to make. At last he said to the go-between: "Be so good as to entertain this venerable aunt for a moment, while I go and find my Old-Thornbush." He hurried into the interior of the house, and in a few words told his wife what was happening. "She is already here and wishes to see our son. I told you that it would have been better to change the day." "You really are a decayed piece of goods. Their daughter has received our gifts, and is already our daughter-in-law. You shall see." Then she said to Prudence: "Make haste and prepare our large room for a collation to the family of Sun." She herself went to the room where the nurse was, and asked: "Has our new daughter's mother something to say to us?" "She is uneasy about the health of your honorable son, and has sent me to see him, thinking that it would be better to postpone the marriage if he were seriously ill." "I am gratified to receive this proof of her consideration. My son has, in fact, taken cold, but it is not a serious indisposition. As for choosing another day, that is not to be thought of. Our preparations are made, and a delay would involve too great a loss. Furthermore, happiness drives away every ill. The invitations are sent out. We might imagine that your family had changed its intention...." "At least, can I see the invalid?" "He has just taken a drug and is asleep. Besides, I have told you that he has caught cold. Are you trying to insult me by expressing a wish to prove my words?" "If the matter stands thus," the nurse politely made haste to answer, "it only remains for me to withdraw." "You cannot go in this way. You have not even taken a cup of tea. If you please, let us go into the new room, for my house is all in disorder." On entering, the nurse observed the excellent arrangement of the young couple's apartment. "Everything is ready, as you see," said the wife of Liu. "And if my son is not quite recovered after the ceremony, I shall take care of him in my pavilion, until he is able to embark upon his conjugal life." Having taken tea, the nurse at last arose and went away. On her return she recounted to her master and mistress what had taken place, and Sun and his wife found themselves in a difficult dilemma. They could not think of allowing their daughter to ruin her life by entering of her betrothed, if he were going to die, and, if the young man were not seriously ill, they stood the risk of losing all their preparation, and of giving occasion for slander. Suddenly their son Yu-lang, who was present, said: "If they have not allowed him to be seen, it means that he is seriously ill. There is no way by which we can go back on our contract; and yet we cannot send my sister to her ruin in this fashion. I have a plan, and you must tell me what you think of it. Let us send the go-between to advise Liu that the marriage will take place on the appointed day, but that the bride's equipment will not be sent until after her husband's recovery. I am sure that they will reject this offer, and then we shall have a good excuse for throwing the blame on them." "But what if they should agree," objected his parents, after a moment's reflection. "They will certainly not agree, or else they would have postponed the marriage. Besides, it is impossible that they should be willing to have another mouth to feed, without any dowry or plenishing." His father said: "Very well, if by any chance they do agree, you shall disguise yourself as a woman and go in your sister's place. You could take a man's clothing with you, and put it on if the sick youth recovered, or matters seemed to take an unfortunate turn. They would not dare to say anything for fear of being ridiculed." "Oh! that is impossible!" cried the young man. "In the first place I would be discovered at once. And what would people say of me afterwards?" "They would say that you had played a trick on these people, and that is all. You are still in the freshness of youth. You are sufficiently like your sister to deceive those who do not know you very well, especially in a wedding garment. You must do it. That is decided. The nurse can go with you to arrange your hair.... And in this way, if our son-in-law dies, Liu will have neither my daughter nor her equipment." When the wife of Liu received Sun's proposal from the mouth of the go-between, she hesitated for a moment. But then she reflected on the false situation in which she would be placed by refusing. So, masking her thoughts beneath a smile, she agreed to the arrangement. On the day fixed for the marriage, Yu-lang was constrained to disguise himself. But two grave difficulties presented themselves. First with regard to his feet: how was it possible for him to imitate his sister's ravishing golden lotuses, so like to sphinx heads, and the balancing of her light steps, a swaying of flowers in the soft breeze? They gave him a petticoat which reached to the ground, and he practised his sister's gait, at which she laughed until she cried. The next question was his ear-rings. It so happened that his left lobe had been pierced; for in his childhood they had made him wear one ring, in order to persuade the evil spirits that he was a girl, whose death would be of no importance. Everybody knows that the Jinn always endeavor to rob us of that which is truly dear to us, and leave untouched that which is of no value. So Yu-lang hung a jewel in his left lobe, and stuck a small piece of plaster over his right ear, so that it might seem it had suffered a slight wound. His great pearl-decorated headdress concealed his head, brow and shoulders. His scarlet robes, embroidered with gold and silver, helped to disguise his figure, and the transformation was complete by rouge on his lips and cheeks. When evening at length drew near, drums and flutes were sounded, the flowered palankeen entered the courtyard, and the hoodwinked go-between, admiring the beauty of the bogus bride, herself opened the scarlet curtains. Not seeing Yu-lang; she remarked upon this circumstance, and they answered carelessly that he was indisposed and kept to his bed. Actually at that moment he was taking leave of his parents and imitating to the best of his ability the sobs which were fitting to the occasion. The procession at last set out and all the bride's equipment was a little leather trunk. At the house of Liu there was considerable discussion: "When the bride arrives, our son will be unable to cross the threshold as ritual demands, and the marriage will not be accomplished. The bride will be left alone to salute the ancestors, and this is impossible. What shall we do?" "It cannot be helped," answered the mother. "So much the worse! Our daughter must make it known that she will take her brother's place. She shall recite the poem of the threshold in his name, and the rites will be thus observed." And Prudence, in her graceful girl's garments, did in fact receive the false Pearl as she got out of the palankeen, pronounced the sacred formulas, and led the new bride before the tablets. The two seeming sisters-in-law knelt down, and several of the bystanders laughed inwardly to see two women perform the marriage ceremony, and then kneel for the purpose of the grand prostration. The wife of Liu led Yu-lang to the invalid's bed; but he had been excited and troubled by the music and noise, and had fainted. They had hastily to revive him by pouring some spoonfuls of hot soup in his mouth. At length the false bride was led to the prepared pavilion, and her great veil was taken off. Then her fresh beauty shone forth, and everybody uttered exclamations of joy: the wife of Liu was alone in feeling a certain compassion, for she thought of all that the new bride would have to lose, and deplored her son's misfortune in falling ill at the moment of tasting so great happiness. As for Yu-lang, the tedium of beholding the hideousness of all the guests was curiously diminished by the pleasure of seeing Prudence's delectable face. He thought: "What a misfortune that I am already betrothed! Here is she whom Fate should have given me." Prudence, on her part, felt herself drawn towards him in an irresistible manner, and said to her mother and the go-between: "Alas! surely my brother has no luck, and my sister-in-law will be very unhappy alone tonight! Is she not charming? If my future husband were like her, my life would be free from all regret." Meanwhile, the marriage feast came to an end, a present was sent to the musicians, and the guests withdrew. The disguised boy, after being conducted to his pavilion, had his nurse's assistance in unmaking the complicated structure of his nuptial adornment. At last he found himself alone, but with no wish for sleep. Now Liu and his wife said to each other: "It seems hard to leave the newly-wed bride alone for her first night under our roof. Would it not be better to tell Prudence to go and keep her company?" As always, the father made certain objections which were not listened to. Prudence insisted, and soon mother and daughter went together to the new pavilion, and approached the bed, the curtains of which were drawn shut. "Here is your sister-in-law come to spend the night with you...." Yu-lang did not know what to say. He was afraid of being discovered, and held the curtains very tightly under his chin, as he put his head through the opening. "I am accustomed to be alone," he stammered. But the mother said: "Aya! You are both of the same age, you are almost sisters. What are you afraid of? If you want to be particular, you have only to keep a blanket between you." During this time, Yu-lang was moved as much by fear as by delight. Was it not strangely fortunate that Prudence's mother should herself have come and let her in this manner to his bed? But if the young girl should call out? On the other hand he thought: "She is fifteen years old, therefore she has been ready for some time; the door of her emotions is ajar. If I take precaution and kindle her heart little by little, there is no need to fear that she will refuse to nibble at my hook." Now the wife of Liu had already retired, and Prudence had shot the bolt of the door. She was laughing all over the bright chrysanthemum of her face: "Sister-in-law, you have taken no refreshment. Are you not hungry? If you wish for anything, tell me, and I will go and fetch it for you." "I am deeply grateful to my sister-in-law for her gentle thought." Prudence noticed that the wick of the lamp had not been trimmed, and was burning long, straight and red. So she exclaimed: "That is for your happiness, sister-in-law!" The other could not restrain a burst of laughter. Prudence blushed and laughed also: "You know how to be merry." So they talked together. At length the maiden, taking the flowers out of her hair, got upon the bed and knelt down to undress herself. He asked her: "On which pillow would you like to sleep? The lower one?" "As my sister-in-law wishes." "Then, if you please, let us sleep on the same." "Very well." Prudence had slipped under the blankets to finish undressing, and the boy did likewise, removing his upper garment. The lamp, placed on a little table beside the bed, dimly lit up the recess through the thin curtains. His emotion began to rise, and he asked: "How many flowering Springtides have you known?" "Fifteen, this year." "Are you betrothed?" But she was seized with unaccountable shyness, and dared not answer. He brought his lips close to the delicate ear lying beside him, and whispered: "Why are you so bashful? We are only two women together." Very low, she answered him: "I am betrothed to the son of P'ei, the druggist, and already they are urging that the ceremony should take place. Happily nothing is yet decided." "You are not very eager, then?" She pushed his head gently away, saying: "It is not nice of you to take hold of my words in this way, and to make fun of me. If I am not eager, you do not seem to be any more so than I." "And how do you know that, maiden? In any case, how could I be so when we are two women." "You speak to me as if you were my mother," the other laughed. "Considering my age, I should rather be your husband," he thoughtlessly said. She burst out laughing: "It is I who am the husband, seeing that I took my brother's place at the wedding." "Well, let us not argue, but rather act as if we were husband and wife." Thus both of them spoke words of meaning. They grew more and more passionate. "Since we are husband and wife," he said impatiently, "why do we not sleep under the same blanket?" As he spoke, he pushed back the thick quilt, and began to observe the garment on the so sweet and smooth, so soft and graceful body. She had kept on an under garment, but her heart was filled with Springtime thoughts, and she offered no resistance to his eye. Then, trembling with desire, he came to her breasts that had so lately dawned, and were so firm. Their tender points were red as a cock's crest, and in all things lovable. Delighted with this game, Prudence put out her hands to return his caresses, and also found his breasts. But there was nothing but quite a little button. She was astonished, and said to herself: "She is as tall as I am. How comes it that she is not further developed?" But by this time Yu-lang was holding her right in his arms, and had his lips glued to her, wantonly thrusting out his tongue. She continued the game by giving it a little nibble, and then thrust out her own tongue. This he so tenderly caressed with his that the girl's body seemed all at once to melt, and she said languorously: "This is no longer a game. We are truly husband and wife!" The false bride, seeing that he had fully awakened the passion of his dupe, made answer: "Not yet. We must take off our under garments." "But I am afraid lest people should talk. It is not good to take them off." He gave a nervous laugh and, without paying attention to her words, undid her girdle and took off her garment. As he advanced toward her, she protected herself with her two hands, saying: "Sister-in-law, sister-in-law, you must not!" But he kissed her again upon the lips. "There is nothing to forbid it, little sister. You may caress me also." In her agitation, and so as not to seem too stupid, she took off his vest, and her timid little hand suddenly stopped short. Her surprise was such that, for a moment, she could not speak. But at last she said: "What man are you who dare to take my sister-in-law's place?" "I am your husband," he answered hugging her to him. She pushed him off, and said seriously: "If you do not tell me in plain truth who you are, I shall cry and call out, and you will be sorry for that." "Do not be angry, little sister," he replied. "I will tell you everything. I am Yu-lang, your sister-in-law's elder brother. My parents heard that your brother was seriously ill, and did not wish my sister to leave our house; but since your parents would not alter the day of the marriage, I had to disguise myself and take my sister's place, until your brother should be healed. I never expected that Heaven would, in its bounty, allow me to become your husband. But we alone must know of our love. Let us not betray it to any." Pressing forward again, he tried to bind her in his arms. Although she had believed she was with a woman, Prudence had loved him from the first; the feeling which she had mistaken for friendship quickly changed to that of love, for it was kindled, as was all of her, by the young man's ardour. Nevertheless she was suffused with shame, and so wavered between one extremity and the other. As for him, in the freshness of his still maiden youth he spoke to her of everlasting vows, of a love higher than the mountain and vaster than the sea, and of a marriage shaped from a boundless happiness. Her betrothed, her parents and her shame were all forgotten. She covered her face with her hand and resisted no longer. When the cloud and the rain of their intoxication had been dispelled, they clasped each other close and went to sleep. Meanwhile, the nurse, being in the secret of this disguise, had been much disturbed at seeing Prudence share the young man's bed. From the adjoining room she had heard their laughter, and then their sighs, and had no further doubt of what had happened. And inwardly she cried: "Woe! Woe!" In the morning, after Prudence had returned to her parents' house to perform her toilet, the woman came in to wait upon Yu-lang, and said to him in a low voice: "O practitioner! You have done a fine thing! What will happen if people come to know of it?" "I did not search her out. Her mother led her to my bed. How could I have avoided this?" "You ought to have resisted with all your might." "With such an adorably beautiful girl? Even a man of iron and stone could not have resisted. Also, if you say nothing, who will know of it?" When the process of disguise was again completed, he went to salute the wife of Liu. Then all the women of the house and the cousins came to see him. Finally Prudence came in, and they two laughed together. For that day, as was the custom, Liu and his wife had invited their relations and friends, and there was a great feast, with music and a dinner lasting until the evening. Then, when the house was quiet again, the girl went, as on the previous night, to keep young Yu-lang company. That night, even more so than the preceding one, the butterflies beat their wings, and the passionate phoenixes were convulsed. In the morning, they kept together. Therefore the scandalized nurse ran out and told everything to Sun said his wife, and they reeled with surprise and emotion. "Alas, misfortune will certainly come of it! We must bring him back as soon as possible." They summoned the go-between and told her that, according to custom, on the third day after the marriage they wished to see their daughter at their house. She therefore went to the home of Liu, and the two lovers trembled when they heard of this request. But the wife of Liu had not forgotten the difficulties which Sun had made with regard to the marriage; and she was afraid of not seeing her daughter-in-law again. So she said: "But my son is still suffering, and the marriage has not been altogether accomplished. We will speak of this again at some later time." This answer had to be sufficient. The nurse was in terror, and watched the approaches of the room all night for fear lest anybody should hear the rapturous exclamation of the lovers. The days passed, and Virgin Diamond gradually grew better. Since he admired the beauty of his young wife, his desire to know her hastened his recovery, and the time came when he was able to get up. Still walking unsteadily, he went into the nuptial pavilion to see her who was his bride, and came before the door, supported by his attendants. The nurse was there, and cried out loud: "My Lord wishes to enter!" Yu-lang was, quite naturally, holding Prudence in his arms. He hastily released her, and went close to the door. "You have succeeded in rising, my elder brother?" said Prudence. "You will fatigue yourself." "That is no matter," he answered, making a deep obeisance before her whom he believed to be his wife. "Ten thousand happinesses be with you!" Yu-lang graciously replied. "What an exquisite pair!" cried the wife of Liu, proud of her son and happy at his fortune. The false bride's beauty was meanwhile strangely reviving the invalid's vitality. And the other lad thought: "He is a fine boy in spite of his illness: there is no need to pity my sister. But if he can get up, he will waste no time in coming to spend the night with me. I must depart as quickly as possible." When evening came, he explained his fears to Prudence. "It is quite necessary to persuade your mother to send me back to my home, that I may change places with my sister. Everything will be discovered if we delay." "You wish to go? But what will become of me alone?" "I have already thought of that. Alas. Alas! But we are both betrothed to another. What can we do?" "If you do not want me living, I must die so that my soul may follow you." And she sobbed and sobbed. He dried her eyes saying to her: "Do not meet trouble in this way, but leave me to find a plan." They clasped each other in their arms, shedding most bitter tears. Now it must be said that the wife of Liu was a little wearied of seeing her daughter night and day inseparable from her sister-in-law. However, she said nothing, because the marriage was not actually accomplished. But passing before the marriage pavilion on that day, she heard a sobbing. She drew near noiselessly and, through a hole in the window paper, saw them close in each other's arms and weeping. "This is very odd," she said. She wished to make an outcry, but remembered that her son was just getting better, and would fall ill again from any sorrow. She gently tried to push the door open, but it was locked. She called out: "It is strange that this door should be locked!" The lovers recognized her voice, and made haste to dry their tears and open the door. She came in. "Why do you lock yourselves in during full daylight, and groan and embrace each other?" They felt the blood flow to their faces, and answered nothing. The mother's hands and feet were trembling with rage. She seized hold of her daughter: "You are playing some pretty trick. Let me talk to you a little." And she dragged her into an empty room. The attendants who saw her asked each other why the girl was being dragged along like that. But by this time the mother had locked the door. When the attendants came and looked through the holes in the paper, they saw her lifting a stick, and heard her crying: "O wretch, tell me the truth, or I shall strike you! Why were you weeping?" At first Prudence thought of denial. Then she said to herself that it would be better to confess and to beg her parents to break off her betrothal with the family of P'ei, so that they might marry her to Yu-lang. If they refused, she would die. That was all. So she told the whole matter without evasion. "We are husband and wife. Our love is boundless, and our vows will endure for at least a hundred years. My brother is recovered, and we fear that we shall be separated. Yu-lang wishes to return to his parents, to send his sister in his place. It seemed, then, to your daughter that a woman cannot have two husbands, and that if Yu-lang cannot marry me, I must die." As she listened to her, her mother's breast opened with rage, and she stamped her feet: "This rotten carrion has sent his son here and has deceived me. And now my daughter is lost. I must beat him unmercifully!" She seized her stick, opened the door and ran forth. Her daughter, forgetting her shame, tried to prevent her; but the old woman pushed her away violently, so that she fell down. Prudence got up and ran after her. The attendants also ran. Now Yu-lang had very well understood that all was discovered when Liu's wife had dragged her daughter away. A moment later, the nurse hurried in. "O my Gods! And, ah unhappiness! All is well lost! Prudence is being questioned with the stick." It seemed to him that two knives were piercing his heart. He burst out into sobbing. But the nurse was already taking out his hair-pins and clothing him as a man. In a state of stupor he let himself be hurried to the main door and through the streets. A few moments later he was back at his parents' house. His father did not fail to say to him: "I told you to play the girl, not the man. Why have you committed acts of which Celestial Reason disapproves?" Yu-lang jostled thus by his father and his mother, no longer knew where he stood. Meanwhile the nurse objected: "But what can they say there? Our young Lord has only to keep himself hidden for a few days, and it will all pass over." But at Liu's house the nurse, as she went away, had unwittingly locked the door, and Liu's wife had come to it and was shaking it violently, stammering with rage and flourishing her stick. "Thief, whom may Heaven strike dead! O very vile rascal! For what did you take me? I am going to show you who I am! I will have your life! If you do not open the door, I shall break it open with a great case." But naturally no one answered. Prudence tried in vain to stay her mother, who loaded her with insults; but at last, in her rage, she succeeded in breaking the lock, and rushed into the room with her stick uplifted. The cage was empty and the bird had flown. She knelt on all fours to look under the bed and under the furniture, crying out all the time: "Thief, you shall die!" But, as she was compelled to admit, there was no trace of the ravisher. Then Prudence said to her, sobbing meanwhile: "And now, after this scandal, the P'ei family is let into the whole secret. I entreat you to have pity on me and let me marry Yu-lang. Otherwise, must I not die in order to redeem my shame?" She fell on her knees, weeping and groaning. "What you say is true," answered her mother resuming some measure of calm. "After this wonderful affair, no one will want you." However, a mother's love cannot be altogether restrained. She drew near to her daughter: "My poor child! All this is not your fault. It is that rotten carrion of a Sun who has caused it. But we cannot, of ourselves, break off the betrothal with P'ei." As Liu came up in the meantime, the matter had to be explained to him. He was nearly half a day without being able to speak, and it may be surmised that his first words were to throw the blame on his wife: "The whole fault is yours! By making me say I do not know what, you arranged all this. Instead of altering the date as you should have done! And to crown all, you insisted upon placing our daughter in his arms! She has very well kept him company, has she not?" His wife's anger was not quite dead, and these remarks rekindled it. Her voice rolled out like thunder: "You old tortoise!" she began.... But on this occasion he also was furious. He advanced, threatening to strike her. Prudence tried to come between them, and all three were nothing but a rolling, striking, shouting and weeping congeries. The servants then ran to inform Virgin Diamond who rose from his bed and unsteadily ran. His mother was moved with pity to see him, and his father also stopped his vituperation. They both went out muttering. Virgin Diamond then asked his sister the cause of all this, and why his young wife was no longer there. She answered only with tears; but his mother, who had returned, told the whole story. Virgin Diamond's anger was so strong that his face became the color of the earth. However, he contained himself, saying: "Let us not publish this family shame abroad. If the news spreads, everybody will laugh at us." As a matter of course, their mischievous neighbor, Li, had heard their shouting and weeping. He had quickly climbed on to his wall, but had been unable to understand what was happening. Next morning he watched for the first of the women slaves who came out, and drew her into his house. Fifty pieces of copper decided the girl to speak, and the delighted Li, letting her depart, ran to the house of P'ei, to whom he told all that he knew. P'ei went straight to the house of Liu: "I know all," he cried. "Give back the gifts, and let no more be said." Liu's face became red and white by turns. He thought: "How does he already know what happened in my house but yesterday?" Then he denied the matter: "Kinsman, whence come these words with which you are trying to sully my family?" "Miserable cheat!" cried the other, "you are in very truth an old tortoise." And he struck him on the face with his hand. "Murderer!" cried Liu in a fury. "Do you dare to come to my house and insult me and strike me?" And he struck P'ei such a violent blow that the old man fell to the ground. Then they began to belabor each other. Virgin Diamond and his mother, hearing their cries, ran up and separated them. Afterward P'ei, pointing with his finger and trembling, cried: "You know how to strike, old tortoise! We shall see whether you are as clever in speaking before the judge." And he went out swearing. Liu exclaimed: "It is all Sun's fault. If I do not bring an action against them, they will even now escape entirely free." In spite of his son's curses, he hurriedly set about writing an accusation, and ran to the Governor s palace. The court was sitting, and Liu, holding his accusation, approached the judge. P'ei was already there, and reviled him as soon as he saw him. Liu retaliated, and the battle began anew. At this interruption, the magistrate sternly ordered the two to kneel and explain themselves. Both spoke confusedly at the same time, but the whole story was none the less made clear. All those who were implicated in the matter were summoned, and they came to fall upon their knees. At length the judge delivered sentence. All the former betrothals were annulled. Yu-lang became betrothed to her whom he had outraged. But the Sun family owed a compensation to the Liu family, which in its turn owed a bride to the P'ei family. So Pearl Sun was given to the son of P'ei, and Virgin Diamond was bestowed upon the former betrothed of Yu-lang. Having settled the affair, the Governor summoned three red palankeens and the three brides were conducted under escort to the homes of their new husbands. The town of Hang-chow talked of this affair for a long time, but in the end forgot it for some new scandal. _Hsing shih heng yen (1627), 8th Tale._ 
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8094	----	CERTAIN NOBLE PLAYS OF JAPAN: From The Manuscripts Of Ernest Fenollosa, Chosen And Finished By Ezra Pound With An Introduction By William Butler Yeats INTRODUCTION I In the series of books I edit for my sister I confine myself to those that have I believe some special value to Ireland, now or in the future. I have asked Mr. Pound for these beautiful plays because I think they will help me to explain a certain possibility of the Irish dramatic movement. I am writing these words with my imagination stirred by a visit to the studio of Mr. Dulac, the distinguished illustrator of the Arabian Nights. I saw there the mask and head-dress to be worn in a play of mine by the player who will speak the part of Cuchulain, and who wearing this noble half-Greek half-Asiatic face will appear perhaps like an image seen in revery by some Orphic worshipper. I hope to have attained the distance from life which can make credible strange events, elaborate words. I have written a little play that can be played in a room for so little money that forty or fifty readers of poetry can pay the price. There will be no scenery, for three musicians, whose seeming sun-burned faces will I hope suggest that they have wandered from village to village in some country of our dreams, can describe place and weather, and at moments action, and accompany it all by drum and gong or flute and dulcimer. Instead of the players working themselves into a violence of passion indecorous in our sitting-room, the music, the beauty of form and voice all come to climax in pantomimic dance. In fact with the help of these plays 'translated by Ernest Fenollosa and finished by Ezra Pound' I have invented a form of drama, distinguished, indirect and symbolic, and having no need of mob or press to pay its way--an aristocratic form. When this play and its performance run as smoothly as my skill can make them, I shall hope to write another of the same sort and so complete a dramatic celebration of the life of Cuchulain planned long ago. Then having given enough performances for I hope the pleasure of personal friends and a few score people of good taste, I shall record all discoveries of method and turn to something else. It is an advantage of this noble form that it need absorb no one's life, that its few properties can be packed up in a box, or hung upon the walls where they will be fine ornaments. II And yet this simplification is not mere economy. For nearly three centuries invention has been making the human voice and the movements of the body seem always less expressive. I have long been puzzled why passages, that are moving when read out or spoken during rehearsal, seem muffled or dulled during performance. I have simplified scenery, having 'The Hour Glass' for instance played now before green curtains, now among those admirable ivory-coloured screens invented by Gordon Craig. With every simplification the voice has recovered something of its importance and yet when verse has approached in temper to let us say 'Kubla Khan,' or 'The Ode to the West Wind,' the most typical modern verse, I have still felt as if the sound came to me from behind a veil. The stage-opening, the powerful light and shade, the number of feet between myself and the players have destroyed intimacy. I have found myself thinking of players who needed perhaps but to unroll a mat in some Eastern garden. Nor have I felt this only when I listened to speech, but even more when I have watched the movement of a player or heard singing in a play. I love all the arts that can still remind me of their origin among the common people, and my ears are only comfortable when the singer sings as if mere speech had taken fire, when he appears to have passed into song almost imperceptibly. I am bored and wretched, a limitation I greatly regret, when he seems no longer a human being but an invention of science. To explain him to myself I say that he has become a wind instrument and sings no longer like active men, sailor or camel driver, because he has had to compete with an orchestra, where the loudest instrument has always survived. The human voice can only become louder by becoming less articulate, by discovering some new musical sort of roar or scream. As poetry can do neither, the voice must be freed from this competition and find itself among little instruments, only heard at their best perhaps when we are close about them. It should be again possible for a few poets to write as all did once, not for the printed page but to be sung. But movement also has grown less expressive, more declamatory, less intimate. When I called the other day upon a friend I found myself among some dozen people who were watching a group of Spanish boys and girls, professional dancers, dancing some national dance in the midst of a drawing-room. Doubtless their training had been long, laborious and wearisome; but now one could not be deceived, their movement was full of joy. They were among friends, and it all seemed but the play of children; how powerful it seemed, how passionate, while an even more miraculous art, separated from us by the footlights, appeared in the comparison laborious and professional. It is well to be close enough to an artist to feel for him a personal liking, close enough perhaps to feel that our liking is returned. My play is made possible by a Japanese dancer whom I have seen dance in a studio and in a drawing-room and on a very small stage lit by an excellent stage-light. In the studio and in the drawing-room alone where the lighting was the light we are most accustomed to, did I see him as the tragic image that has stirred my imagination. There where no studied lighting, no stage-picture made an artificial world, he was able, as he rose from the floor, where he had been sitting crossed-legged or as he threw out an arm, to recede from us into some more powerful life. Because that separation was achieved by human means alone, he receded, but to inhabit as it were the deeps of the mind. One realised anew, at every separating strangeness, that the measure of all arts' greatness can be but in their intimacy. III All imaginative art keeps at a distance and this distance once chosen must be firmly held against a pushing world. Verse, ritual, music and dance in association with action require that gesture, costume, facial expression, stage arrangement must help in keeping the door. Our unimaginative arts are content to set a piece of the world as we know it in a place by itself, to put their photographs as it were in a plush or a plain frame, but the arts which interest me, while seeming to separate from the world and us a group of figures, images, symbols, enable us to pass for a few moments into a deep of the mind that had hitherto been too subtle for our habitation. As a deep of the mind can only be approached through what is most human, most delicate, we should distrust bodily distance, mechanism and loud noise. It may be well if we go to school in Asia, for the distance from life in European art has come from little but difficulty with material. In half-Asiatic Greece, Kallimachos could still return to a stylistic management of the falling folds of drapery, after the naturalistic drapery of Phidias, and in Egypt the same age that saw the village Head-man carved in wood for burial in some tomb with so complete a naturalism saw, set up in public places, statues full of an august formality that implies traditional measurements, a philosophic defence. The spiritual painting of the 14th century passed on into Tintoretto and that of Velasquez into modern painting with no sense of loss to weigh against the gain, while the painting of Japan, not having our European Moon to churn the wits, has understood that no styles that ever delighted noble imaginations have lost their importance, and chooses the style according to the subject. In literature also we have had the illusion of change and progress, the art of Shakespeare passing into that of Dryden, and so into the prose drama, by what has seemed when studied in its details unbroken progress. Had we been Greeks, and so but half-European, an honourable mob would have martyred though in vain the first man who set up a painted scene, or who complained that soliloquies were unnatural, instead of repeating with a sigh, 'we cannot return to the arts of childhood however beautiful.' Only our lyric poetry has kept its Asiatic habit and renewed itself at its own youth, putting off perpetually what has been called its progress in a series of violent revolutions. Therefore it is natural that I go to Asia for a stage-convention, for more formal faces, for a chorus that has no part in the action and perhaps for those movements of the body copied from the marionette shows of the 14th century. A mask will enable me to substitute for the face of some common-place player, or for that face repainted to suit his own vulgar fancy, the fine invention of a sculptor, and to bring the audience close enough to the play to hear every inflection of the voice. A mask never seems but a dirty face, and no matter how close you go is still a work of art; nor shall we lose by staying the movement of the features, for deep feeling is expressed by a movement of the whole body. In poetical painting & in sculpture the face seems the nobler for lacking curiosity, alert attention, all that we sum up under the famous word of the realists 'vitality.' It is even possible that being is only possessed completely by the dead, and that it is some knowledge of this that makes us gaze with so much emotion upon the face of the Sphinx or Buddha. Who can forget the face of Chaliapine as the Mogul King in Prince Igor, when a mask covering its upper portion made him seem like a Phoenix at the end of its thousand wise years, awaiting in condescension the burning nest and what did it not gain from that immobility in dignity and in power? IV Realism is created for the common people and was always their peculiar delight, and it is the delight to-day of all those whose minds educated alone by school-masters and newspapers are without the memory of beauty and emotional subtlety. The occasional humorous realism that so much heightened the emotional effect of Elizabethan Tragedy, Cleopatra's old man with an asp let us say, carrying the tragic crisis by its contrast above the tide-mark of Corneille's courtly theatre, was made at the outset to please the common citizen standing on the rushes of the floor; but the great speeches were written by poets who remembered their patrons in the covered galleries. The fanatic Savonarola was but dead a century, and his lamentation in the frenzy of his rhetoric, that every prince of the Church or State throughout Europe was wholly occupied with the fine arts, had still its moiety of truth. A poetical passage cannot be understood without a rich memory, and like the older school of painting appeals to a tradition, and that not merely when it speaks of 'Lethe's Wharf' or 'Dido on the wild sea-banks' but in rhythm, in vocabulary; for the ear must notice slight variations upon old cadences and customary words, all that high breeding of poetical style where there is nothing ostentatious, nothing crude, no breath of parvenu or journalist. Let us press the popular arts on to a more complete realism, for that would be their honesty; and the commercial arts demoralise by their compromise, their incompleteness, their idealism without sincerity or elegance, their pretence that ignorance can understand beauty. In the studio and in the drawing-room we can found a true theatre of beauty. Poets from the time of Keats and Blake have derived their descent only through what is least declamatory, least popular in the art of Shakespeare, and in such a theatre they will find their habitual audience and keep their freedom. Europe is very old and has seen many arts run through the circle and has learned the fruit of every flower and known what this fruit sends up, and it is now time to copy the East and live deliberately. V 'Ye shall not, while ye tarry with me, taste From unrinsed barrel the diluted wine Of a low vineyard or a plant illpruned, But such as anciently the Aegean Isles Poured in libation at their solemn feasts: And the same goblets shall ye grasp embost With no vile figures of loose languid boors, But such as Gods have lived with and have led.' The Noh theatre of Japan became popular at the close of the 14th century, gathering into itself dances performed at Shinto shrines in honour of spirits and gods or by young nobles at the court, and much old lyric poetry, and receiving its philosophy and its final shape perhaps from priests of a contemplative school of Buddhism. A small daimio or feudal lord of the ancient capital Nara, a contemporary of Chaucer's, was the author, or perhaps only the stage-manager, of many plays. He brought them to the court of the Shogun at Kioto. From that on the Shogun and his court were as busy with dramatic poetry as the Mikado and his with lyric. When for the first time Hamlet was being played in London Noh was made a necessary part of official ceremonies at Kioto, and young nobles and princes, forbidden to attend the popular theatre in Japan as elsewhere a place of mimicry and naturalism were encouraged to witness and to perform in spectacles where speech, music, song and dance created an image of nobility and strange beauty. When the modern revolution came, Noh after a brief unpopularity was played for the first time in certain ceremonious public theatres, and 1897 a battleship was named Takasago, after one of its most famous plays. Some of the old noble families are to-day very poor, their men it may be but servants and labourers, but they still frequent these theatres. 'Accomplishment' the word Noh means, and it is their accomplishment and that of a few cultured people who understand the literary and mythological allusions and the ancient lyrics quoted in speech or chorus, their discipline, a part of their breeding. The players themselves, unlike the despised players of the popular theatre, have passed on proudly from father to son an elaborate art, and even now a player will publish his family tree to prove his skill. One player wrote in 1906 in a business circular--I am quoting from Mr. Pound's redaction of the Notes of Fenollosa--that after thirty generations of nobles a woman of his house dreamed that a mask was carried to her from heaven, and soon after she bore a son who became a player and the father of players. His family he declared still possessed a letter from a 15th century Mikado conferring upon them a theatre-curtain, white below and purple above. There were five families of these players and, forbidden before the Revolution to perform in public, they had received grants of land or salaries from the state. The white and purple curtain was no doubt to hang upon a wall behind the players or over their entrance door for the Noh stage is a platform surrounded upon three sides by the audience. No 'naturalistic' effect is sought. The players wear masks and found their movements upon those of puppets: the most famous of all Japanese dramatists composed entirely for puppets. A swift or a slow movement and a long or a short stillness, and then another movement. They sing as much as they speak, and there is a chorus which describes the scene and interprets their thought and never becomes as in the Greek theatre a part of the action. At the climax instead of the disordered passion of nature there is a dance, a series of positions & movements which may represent a battle, or a marriage, or the pain of a ghost in the Buddhist purgatory. I have lately studied certain of these dances, with Japanese players, and I notice that their ideal of beauty, unlike that of Greece and like that of pictures from Japan and China, makes them pause at moments of muscular tension. The interest is not in the human form but in the rhythm to which it moves, and the triumph of their art is to express the rhythm in its intensity. There are few swaying movements of arms or body such as make the beauty of our dancing. They move from the hip, keeping constantly the upper part of their body still, and seem to associate with every gesture or pose some definite thought. They cross the stage with a sliding movement, and one gets the impression not of undulation but of continuous straight lines. The Print Room of the British Museum is now closed as a war-economy, so I can only write from memory of theatrical colour-prints, where a ship is represented by a mere skeleton of willows or osiers painted green, or a fruit tree by a bush in a pot, and where actors have tied on their masks with ribbons that are gathered into a bunch behind the head. It is a child's game become the most noble poetry, and there is no observation of life, because the poet would set before us all those things which we feel and imagine in silence. Mr. Ezra Pound has found among the Fenollosa manuscripts a story traditional among Japanese players. A young man was following a stately old woman through the streets of a Japanese town, and presently she turned to him and spoke: 'Why do you follow me?' 'Because you are so interesting.' 'That is not so, I am too old to be interesting.' But he wished he told her to become a player of old women on the Noh stage. 'If he would become famous as a Noh player she said, he must not observe life, nor put on an old voice and stint the music of his voice. He must know how to suggest an old woman and yet find it all in the heart.' VI In the plays themselves I discover a beauty or a subtlety that I can trace perhaps to their threefold origin. The love-sorrows, the love of father and daughter, of mother and son, of boy and girl, may owe their nobility to a courtly life, but he to whom the adventures happen, a traveller commonly from some distant place, is most often a Buddhist priest; and the occasional intellectual subtlety is perhaps Buddhist. The adventure itself is often the meeting with ghost, god or goddess at some holy place or much-legended tomb; and god, goddess or ghost reminds me at times of our own Irish legends and beliefs, which once it may be differed little from those of the Shinto worshipper. The feather-mantle, for whose lack the moon goddess, (or should we call her fairy?) cannot return to the sky, is the red cap whose theft can keep our fairies of the sea upon dry land; and the ghost-lovers in 'Nishikigi' remind me of the Aran boy and girl who in Lady Gregory's story come to the priest after death to be married. These Japanese poets too feel for tomb and wood the emotion, the sense of awe that our Gaelic speaking country people will some times show when you speak to them of Castle Hackett or of some Holy Well; and that is why perhaps it pleases them to begin so many plays by a Traveller asking his way with many questions, a convention agreeable to me; for when I first began to write poetical plays for an Irish theatre I had to put away an ambition of helping to bring again to certain places, their old sanctity or their romance. I could lay the scene of a play on Baile's Strand, but I found no pause in the hurried action for descriptions of strand or sea or the great yew tree that once stood there; and I could not in 'The King's Threshold' find room, before I began the ancient story, to call up the shallow river and the few trees and rocky fields of modern Gort. But in the 'Nishikigi' the tale of the lovers would lose its pathos if we did not see that forgotten tomb where 'the hiding fox' lives among 'the orchids and the chrysanthemum flowers.' The men who created this convention were more like ourselves than were the Greeks and Romans, more like us even than are Shakespeare and Corneille. Their emotion was self-conscious and reminiscent, always associating itself with pictures and poems. They measured all that time had taken or would take away and found their delight in remembering celebrated lovers in the scenery pale passion loves. They travelled seeking for the strange and for the picturesque: 'I go about with my heart set upon no particular place, no more than a cloud. I wonder now would the sea be that way, or the little place Kefu that they say is stuck down against it.' When a traveller asks his way of girls upon the roadside he is directed to find it by certain pine trees, which he will recognise because many people have drawn them. I wonder am I fanciful in discovering in the plays themselves (few examples have as yet been translated and I may be misled by accident or the idiosyncrasy of some poet) a playing upon a single metaphor, as deliberate as the echoing rhythm of line in Chinese and Japanese painting. In the 'Nishikigi' the ghost of the girl-lover carries the cloth she went on weaving out of grass when she should have opened the chamber door to her lover, and woven grass returns again and again in metaphor and incident. The lovers, now that in an aery body they must sorrow for unconsummated love, are 'tangled up as the grass patterns are tangled.' Again they are like an unfinished cloth: 'these bodies, having no weft, even now are not come together, truly a shameful story, a tale to bring shame on the gods.' Before they can bring the priest to the tomb they spend the day 'pushing aside the grass from the overgrown ways in Kefu,' and the countryman who directs them is 'cutting grass on the hill;' & when at last the prayer of the priest unites them in marriage the bride says that he has made 'a dream-bridge over wild grass, over the grass I dwell in;' and in the end bride and bridegroom show themselves for a moment 'from under the shadow of the love-grass.' In 'Hagoromo' the feather-mantle of the fairy woman creates also its rhythm of metaphor. In the beautiful day of opening spring 'the plumage of Heaven drops neither feather nor flame,' 'nor is the rock of earth over-much worn by the brushing of the feathery skirt of the stars.' One half remembers a thousand Japanese paintings, or whichever comes first into the memory. That screen painted by Korin, let us say, shown lately at the British Museum, where the same form is echoing in wave and in cloud and in rock. In European poetry I remember Shelley's continually repeated fountain and cave, his broad stream and solitary star. In neglecting character which seems to us essential in drama, as do their artists in neglecting relief and depth, when they arrange flowers in a vase in a thin row, they have made possible a hundred lovely intricacies. VII These plays arose in an age of continual war and became a part of the education of soldiers. These soldiers, whose natures had as much of Walter Pater as of Achilles combined with Buddhist priests and women to elaborate life in a ceremony, the playing of football, the drinking of tea, and all great events of state, becoming a ritual. In the painting that decorated their walls and in the poetry they recited one discovers the only sign of a great age that cannot deceive us, the most vivid and subtle discrimination of sense and the invention of images more powerful than sense; the continual presence of reality. It is still true that the Deity gives us, according to His promise, not His thoughts or His convictions but His flesh and blood, and I believe that the elaborate technique of the arts, seeming to create out of itself a superhuman life has taught more men to die than oratory or the Prayer Book. We only believe in those thoughts which have been conceived not in the brain but in the whole body. The Minoan soldier who bore upon his arm the shield ornamented with the dove in the Museum at Crete, or had upon his head the helmet with the winged horse, knew his rôle in life. When Nobuzane painted the child Saint Kobo, Daishi kneeling full of sweet austerity upon the flower of the lotus, he set up before our eyes exquisite life and the acceptance of death. I cannot imagine those young soldiers and the women they loved pleased with the ill-breeding and theatricality of Carlyle, nor I think with the magniloquence of Hugo. These things belong to an industrial age, a mechanical sequence of ideas; but when I remember that curious game which the Japanese called, with a confusion of the senses that had seemed typical of our own age, 'listening to incense,' I know that some among them would have understood the prose of Walter Pater, the painting or Puvis de Chavannes, the poetry of Mallarmé and Verlaine. When heroism returned to our age it bore with it as its first gift technical sincerity. VIII For some weeks now I have been elaborating my play in London where alone I can find the help I need, Mr. Dulac's mastery of design and Mr. Ito's genius of movement; yet it pleases me to think that I am working for my own country. Perhaps some day a play in the form I am adapting for European purposes shall awake once more, whether in Gaelic or in English, under the slope of Slieve-na-mon or Croagh Patrick ancient memories; for this form has no need of scenery that runs away with money nor of a theatre-building. Yet I know that I only amuse myself with a fancy; for though my writings if they be sea-worthy must put to sea, I cannot tell where they may be carried by the wind. Are not the fairy-stories of Oscar Wilde, which were written for Mr. Ricketts and Mr. Shannon and for a few ladies, very popular in Arabia? W. B. Yeats, April 1916. NISHIKIGI A PLAY IN TWO ACTS BY MOTOKIYO. PERSONS OF THE PLAY THE WAKI A priest THE SHITE, OR HERO Ghost of the lover TSURE Ghost of the woman; they have both been long dead, and have not yet been united. CHORUS The 'Nishikigi' are wands used as a love charm. 'Hosonuno' is the name of a local cloth which the woman weaves. NISHIKIGI First Part WAKI There never was anybody heard of Mount Shinobu but had a kindly feeling for it; so I, like any other priest that might want to know a little bit about each one of the provinces, may as well be walking up here along the much travelled road. I have not yet been about the east country, but now I have set my mind to go as far as the earth goes; and why shouldn't I, after all? seeing that I go about with my heart set upon no particular place whatsoever, and with no other man's flag in my hand, no more than a cloud has. It is a flag of the night I see coming down upon me. I wonder now, would the sea be that way, or the little place Kefu that they say is stuck down against it? SHITE (to Tsure) Times out of mind am I here setting up this bright branch, this silky wood with the charms painted in it as fine as the web you'd get in the grass-cloth of Shinobu, that they'd be still selling you in this mountain. SHITE AND TSURE Tangled, we are entangled. Whose fault was it, dear? tangled up as the grass patterns are tangled up in this coarse cloth, or as the little Mushi that lives on and chirrups in dried sea-weed. We do not know where are to-day our tears in the undergrowth of this eternal wilderness. We neither wake nor sleep, and passing our nights in a sorrow which is in the end a vision, what are these scenes of spring to us? This thinking in sleep of someone who has no thought of you, is it more than a dream? and yet surely it is the natural way of love. In our hearts there is much and in our bodies nothing, and we do nothing at all, and only the waters of the river of tears flow quickly. CHORUS Narrow is the cloth of Kefu, but wild is that river, that torrent of the hills, between the beloved and the bride. The cloth she had woven is faded, the thousand one hundred nights were night-trysts watched out in vain. WAKI (not recognizing the nature of the speakers) Strange indeed, seeing these town-people here. They seem like man and wife, And the lady seems to be holding something Like a cloth woven of feathers, While he has a staff or a wooden sceptre Beautifully ornate. Both of these things are strange; In any case, I wonder what they call them. TSURE This is a narrow cloth called 'Hosonuno,' It is just the breadth of the loom. SHITE And this is merely wood painted, And yet the place is famous because of these things. Would you care to buy them from us? WAKI Yes, I know that the cloth of this place and the lacquers are famous things. I have already heard of their glory, and yet I still wonder why they have such great reputation. TSURE Ah well now, that's a disappointment. Here they call the wood Nishikigi,' and the woven stuff 'Hosonuno,' and yet you come saying that you have never heard why, and never heard the story. Is it reasonable? SHITE No, no, that is reasonable enough. What can people be expected to know of these affairs when it is more than they can do to keep abreast of their own? BOTH (to the Priest) Ah well, you look like a person who has abandoned the world; it is reasonable enough that you should not know the worth of wands and cloths with love's signs painted upon them, with love's marks painted and dyed. WAKI That is a fine answer. And you would tell me then that Nishikigi and Hosonuno are names bound over with love? SHITE They are names in love's list surely. Every day for a year, for three years come to their full, the wands Nishikigi were set up, until there were a thousand in all. And they are in song in your time, and will be. 'Chidzuka' they call them. TSURE These names are surely a by-word. As the cloth Hosonuno is narrow of weft, More narrow than the breast, We call by this name any woman Whose breasts are hard to come nigh to. It is a name in books of love. SHITE 'Tis a sad name to look back on. TSURE A thousand wands were in vain. A sad name, set in a story. SHITE A seed-pod void of the seed, We had no meeting together. TSURE Let him read out the story. CHORUS I At last they forget, they forget. The wands are no longer offered, The custom is faded away. The narrow cloth of Kefu Will not meet over the breast. 'Tis the story of Hosonuno, This is the tale: These bodies, having no weft, Even now are not come together. Truly a shameful story, A tale to bring shame on the gods. II Names of love, Now for a little spell, For a faint charm only, For a charm as slight as the binding together Of pine-flakes in Iwashiro, And for saying a wish over them about sunset, We return, and return to our lodging. The evening sun leaves a shadow. WAKI Go on, tell out all the story. SHITE There is an old custom of this country. We make wands of meditation, and deck them with symbols, and set them before a gate, when we are suitors. TSURE And we women take up a wand of the man we would meet with, and let the others lie, although a man might come for a hundred nights, it may be, or for a thousand nights in three years, till there were a thousand wands here in the shade of this mountain. We know the funeral cave of such a man, one who had watched out the thousand nights; a bright cave, for they buried him with all his wands. They have named it the 'Cave of the many charms.' WAKI I will go to that love-cave, It will be a tale to take back to my village. Will you show me my way there? SHITE So be it, I will teach you the path. TSURE Tell him to come over this way. BOTH Here are the pair of them Going along before the traveller. CHORUS We have spent the whole day until dusk Pushing aside the grass From the over-grown way at Kefu, And we are not yet come to the cave. O you there, cutting grass on the hill, Please set your mind on this matter. 'You'd be asking where the dew is 'While the frost's lying here on the road. 'Who'd tell you that now?' Very well then don't tell us, But be sure we will come to the cave. SHITE There's a cold feel in the autumn. Night comes.... CHORUS And storms; trees giving up their leaf, Spotted with sudden showers. Autumn! our feet are clogged In the dew-drenched, entangled leaves. The perpetual shadow is lonely, The mountain shadow is lying alone. The owl cries out from the ivies That drag their weight on the pine. Among the orchids and chrysanthemum flowers The hiding fox is now lord of that love-cave, Nishidzuka, That is dyed like the maple's leaf. They have left us this thing for a saying. That pair have gone into the cave. (sign for the exit of Shite and Tsure) Second Part (The Waki has taken the posture of sleep. His respectful visit to the cave is beginning to have its effect.) WAKI (restless) It seems that I cannot sleep For the length of a pricket's horn. Under October wind, under pines, under night! I will do service to Butsu. (he performs the gestures of a ritual) TSURE Aie! honoured priest! You do not dip twice in the river Beneath the same tree's shadow Without bonds in some other life. Hear sooth-say, Now is there meeting between us, Between us who were until now In life and in after-life kept apart. A dream-bridge over wild grass, Over the grass I dwell in. O honoured! do not awake me by force. I see that the law is perfect. SHITE (supposedly invisible) It is a good service you have done, sir, A service that spreads in two worlds, And binds up an ancient love That was stretched out between them. I had watched for a thousand days. Take my thanks, For this meeting is under a difficult law. And now I will show myself in the form of Nishikigi. I will come out now for the first time in colour. (The characters announce or explain their acts, as these are mostly symbolical. Thus here the Shite, or Sh'te, announces his change of costume, and later the dance.) CHORUS The three years are over and past: All that is but an old story. SHITE To dream under dream we return. Three years.... And the meeting comes now! This night has happened over and over, And only now comes the tryst. CHORUS Look there to the cave Beneath the stems of the Suzuki. From under the shadows of the love-grass, See, see how they come forth and appear For an instant.... Illusion! SHITE There is at the root of hell No distinction between princes and commons; Wretched for me! 'tis the saying. WAKI Strange, what seemed so very old a cave Is all glittering-bright within, Like the flicker of fire. It is like the inside of a house. They are setting up a loom, And heaping up charm-sticks. No, The hangings are out of old time. Is it illusion, illusion? TSURE Our hearts have been in the dark of the falling snow, We have been astray in the flurry. You should tell better than we How much is illusion; You who are in the world. We have been in the whirl of those who are fading. SHITE Indeed in old times Narihira said, --and he has vanished with the years-- 'Let a man who is in the world tell the fact.' It is for you, traveller, To say how much is illusion. WAKI Let it be a dream, or a vision, Or what you will, I care not. Only show me the old times over-past and snowed under-- Now, soon, while the night lasts. SHITE Look then, the old times are shown, Faint as the shadow-flower shows in the grass that bears it; And you've but a moon for lanthorn. TSURE The woman has gone into the cave. She sets up her loom there For the weaving of Hosonuno, Thin as the heart of Autumn. SHITE The suitor for his part, holding his charm-sticks, Knocks on a gate which was barred. TSURE In old time he got back no answer, No secret sound at all Save.... SHITE The sound of the loom. TSURE It was a sweet sound like katydids and crickets, A thin sound like the Autumn. SHITE It was what you would hear any night. TSURE Kiri. SHITE Hatari. TSURE Cho. SHITE Cho. CHORUS (mimicking the sound of crickets) Kiri, hatari, cho, cho, Kiri, hatari, cho, cho. The cricket sews on at his old rags, With all the new grass in the field; sho, Churr, isho, like the whir of a loom: churr. CHORUS (antistrophe) Let be, they make grass-cloth in Kefu, Kefu, the land's end, matchless in the world. SHITE That is an old custom, truly, But this priest would look on the past. CHORUS The good priest himself would say: Even if we weave the cloth, Hosonuno, And set up the charm-sticks For a thousand, a hundred nights, Even then our beautiful desire will not pass, Nor fade nor die out. SHITE Even to-day the difficulty of our meeting is remembered, And is remembered in song. CHORUS That we may acquire power, Even in our faint substance, We will show forth even now, And though it be but in a dream, Our form of repentance. (explaining the movement of the Shite and Tsure) There he is carrying wands, And she has no need to be asked. See her within the cave, With a cricket-like noise of weaving. The grass-gates and the hedge are between them; That is a symbol. Night has already come on. (now explaining the thoughts of the man's spirit) Love's thoughts are heaped high within him, As high as the charm-sticks, As high as the charm-sticks, once coloured, Now fading, lie heaped in this cave. And he knows of their fading. He says: I lie a body, unknown to any other man, Like old wood buried in moss. It were a fit thing That I should stop thinking the love-thoughts. The charm-sticks fade and decay, And yet, The rumour of our love Takes foot and moves through the world. We had no meeting But tears have, it seems, brought out a bright blossom Upon the dyed tree of love. SHITE Tell me, could I have foreseen Or known what a heap of my writings Should lie at the end of her shaft-bench? CHORUS A hundred nights and more Of twisting, encumbered sleep, And now they make it a ballad, Not for one year or for two only But until the days lie deep As the sand's depth at Kefu, Until the year's end is red with Autumn, Red like these love-wands, A thousand nights are in vain. And I stand at this gate-side. You grant no admission, you do not show yourself Until I and my sleeves are faded. By the dew-like gemming of tears upon my sleeve, Why will you grant no admission? And we all are doomed to pass, You, and my sleeves and my tears. And you did not even know when three years had come to an end. Cruel, ah cruel! The charm-sticks.... SHITE Were set up a thousand times; Then, now, and for always. CHORUS Shall I ever at last see into that room of hers, which no other sight has traversed? SHITE Happy at last and well-starred, Now comes the eve of betrothal: We meet for the wine-cup. CHORUS How glorious the sleeves of the dance, That are like snow-whirls! SHITE Tread out the dance. CHORUS Tread out the dance and bring music. This dance is for Nishikigi. SHITE This dance is for the evening plays, And for the weaving. CHORUS For the tokens between lover and lover: It is a reflecting in the wine-cup. CHORUS Ari-aki, The dawn! Come, we are out of place; Let us go ere the light comes. (to the Waki) We ask you, do not awake, We all will wither away, The wands and this cloth of a dream. Now you will come out of sleep, You tread the border and nothing Awaits you: no, all this will wither away. There is nothing here but this cave in the field's midst. To-day's wind moves in the pines; A wild place, unlit, and unfilled. HAGOROMO HAGOROMO, A PLAY IN ONE ACT. PERSONS OF THE PLAY THE PRIEST Hakuryo A FISHERMAN A TENNIN CHORUS HAGOROMO The plot of the play 'Hagoromo, the Feather-mantle' is as follows. The priest finds the Hagoromo, the magical feather-mantle of a Tennin, an aerial spirit or celestial dancer, hanging upon a bough. She demands its return. He argues with her, and finally promises to return it, if she will teach him her dance or part of it. She accepts the offer. The Chorus explains the dance as symbolical of the daily changes of the moon. The words about 'three, five and fifteen' refer to the number of nights in the moon's changes. In the finale, the Tennin is supposed to disappear like a mountain slowly hidden in mist. The play shows the relation of the early Noh to the God-dance. PRIEST Windy road of the waves by Miwo, Swift with ships, loud over steersmen's voices. Hakuryo, taker of fish, head of his house, Dwells upon the barren pine-waste of Miwo. A FISHERMAN Upon a thousand heights had gathered the inexplicable cloud, swept by the rain. The moon is just come to light the low house. A clean and pleasant time surely. There comes the breath-colour of spring; the waves rise in a line below the early mist; the moon is still delaying above, though we've no skill to grasp it. Here is a beauty to set the mind above itself. CHORUS I shall not be out of memory Of the mountain road by Kiyomi, Nor of the parted grass by that bay, Nor of the far-seen pine-waste Of Miwo of wheat stalks. Let us go according to custom. Take hands against the wind here, for it presses the clouds and the sea. Those men who were going to fish are about to return without launching. Wait a little, is it not spring? will not the wind be quiet? this wind is only the voice of the lasting pine-trees, ready for stillness. See how the air is soundless, or would be, were it not for the waves. There now, the fishermen are putting out with even the smallest boats. PRIEST Now I am come to shore at Miwo-no; I disembark in Subara; I see all that they speak of on the shore. An empty sky with music, a rain of flowers, strange fragrance on every side; all these are no common things, nor is this cloak that hangs upon the pine-tree. As I approach to inhale its colour I am aware of mystery. Its colour-smell is mysterious. I see that it is surely no common dress. I will take it now and return and make it a treasure in my house, to show to the aged. TENNIN That cloak belongs to someone on this side. What are you proposing to do with it? PRIEST This? this is a cloak picked up. I am taking it home, I tell you. TENNIN That is a feather-mantle not fit for a mortal to bear, Not easily wrested from the sky-traversing spirit, Not easily taken or given. I ask you to leave it where you found it. PRIEST How, is the owner of this cloak a Tennin? so be it. In this downcast age I should keep it, a rare thing, and make it a treasure in the country, a thing respected. Then I should not return it. TENNIN Pitiful, there is no flying without the cloak of feathers, no return through the ether. I pray you return me the mantle. PRIEST Just from hearing these high words, I, Hakuryo have gathered more and yet more force. You think, because I was too stupid to recognise it, that I shall be unable to take and keep hid the feather-robe, that I shall give it back for merely being told to stand and withdraw? TENNIN A Tennin without her robe, A bird without wings, How shall she climb the air? PRIEST And this world would be a sorry place for her to dwell in? TENNIN I am caught, I struggle, how shall I?... PRIEST No, Hakuryo is not one to give back the robe. TENNIN Power does not attain.... PRIEST To get back the robe. CHORUS Her coronet [1] jewelled as with the dew of tears, even the flowers that decorated her hair drooping, and fading, the whole chain of weaknesses [2] of the dying Tennin can be seen actually before the eyes. Sorrow! [Footnote 1: Vide examples of state head-dress of kingfisher feathers, in the South Kensington Museum.] [Footnote 2: The chain of weaknesses, or the five ills, diseases of the Tennin: namely, the hanakadzusa withers; the Hagoromo is stained; sweat comes from the body; both eyes wink frequently; she feels very weary of her palace in heaven.] TENNIN I look into the flat of heaven, peering; the cloud-road is all hidden and uncertain; we are lost in the rising mist; I have lost the knowledge of the road. Strange, a strange sorrow! CHORUS Enviable colour of breath, wonder of clouds that fade along the sky that was our accustomed dwelling; hearing the sky-bird, accustomed and well accustomed, hearing the voices grow fewer, the wild geese fewer and fewer along the highways of air, how deep her longing to return. Plover and seagull are on the waves in the offing. Do they go, or do they return? She reaches out for the very blowing of the spring wind against heaven. PRIEST (to the Tennin) What do you say? now that I can see you in your sorrow, gracious, of heaven, I bend and would return you your mantle. TENNIN It grows clearer. No, give it this side. PRIEST First tell me your nature, who are you, Tennin? give payment with the dance of the Tennin, and I will return you your mantle. TENNIN Readily and gladly, and then I return into heaven. You shall have what pleasure you will, and I will leave a dance here, a joy to be new among men and to be memorial dancing. Learn then this dance that can turn the palace of the moon. No, come here to learn it. For the sorrows of the world I will leave this new dancing with you for sorrowful people. But give me my mantle, I cannot do the dance rightly without it. PRIEST Not yet, for if you should get it, how do I know you'll not be off to your palace without even beginning your dance, not even a measure? TENNIN Doubt is fitting for mortals; with us there is no deceit. PRIEST I am again ashamed. I give you your mantle. CHORUS The young maid now is arrayed; she assumes the curious mantle; watch how she moves in the dance of the rainbow-feathered garment. PRIEST The heavenly feather-robe moves in accord with the wind. TENNIN The sleeves of flowers are being wet with the rain. PRIEST The wind and the sleeve move together. CHORUS It seems that she dances. Thus was the dance of pleasure, Suruga dancing, brought to the sacred east. Thus was it when the lords of the everlasting Trod the world, They being of old our friends. Upon ten sides their sky is without limit, They have named it on this account, 'the enduring.' TENNIN The jewelled axe takes up the eternal renewing, the palace of the moon-god is being renewed with the jewelled axe, and this is always recurring. CHORUS (commenting on the dance) The white kiromo, the black kiromo, Three, five into fifteen, The figure that the Tennin is dividing. There are heavenly nymphs, Amaotome, [3] One for each night of the month, And each with her deed assigned. [Footnote 3: Cf. 'Paradiso,' xxiii, 25. 'Quale nei plenilunii sereni Trivia ride tra le ninfe eterne.'] TENNIN I also am heaven-born and a maid, Amaotome. Of them there are many. This is the dividing of my body, that is fruit of the moon's tree, Katsuma. [4] This is one part of our dance that I leave to you here in your world. [Footnote 4: A tree something like the laurel.] CHORUS The spring mist is widespread abroad; so perhaps the wild olive's flower will blossom in the infinitely unreachable moon. Her flowery head-ornament is putting on colour; this truly is sign of the spring. Not sky is here, but the beauty; and even here comes the heavenly, wonderful wind. O blow, shut the accustomed path of the clouds. O, you in the form of a maid, grant us the favour of your delaying. The pine-waste of Miwo puts on the colour of spring. The bay of Kiyomi lies clear before the snow upon Fuji. Are not all these presages of the spring? There are but few ripples beneath the piny wind. It is quiet along the shore. There is naught but a fence of jewels between the earth and the sky, and the gods within and without, [5] beyond and beneath the stars, and the moon unclouded by her lord, and we who are born of the sun. This alone intervenes, here where the moon is unshadowed, here in Nippon, the sun's field. [Footnote 5: 'Within and without,' gei, gu, two parts of the temple] TENNIN The plumage of heaven drops neither feather nor flame to its own diminution. CHORUS Nor is this rock of earth over-much worn by the brushing of that feather-mantle, the feathery skirt of the stars: rarely, how rarely. There is a magic song from the east, the voices of many and many: and flute and shae, filling the space beyond the cloud's edge, seven-stringed; dance filling and filling. The red sun blots on the sky the line of the colour-drenched mountains. The flowers rain in a gust; it is no racking storm that comes over this green moor, which is afloat, as it would seem, in these waves. Wonderful is the sleeve of the white cloud, whirling such snow here. TENNIN Plain of life, field of the sun, true foundation, great power! CHORUS Hence and for ever this dancing shall be called, 'a revel in the east.' Many are the robes thou hast, now of the sky's colour itself, and now a green garment. SEMI-CHORUS And now the robe of mist, presaging spring, a colour-smell as this wonderful maiden's skirt--left, right, left! The rustling of flowers, the putting-on of the feathery sleeve; they bend in air with the dancing. SEMI-CHORUS Many are the joys in the east. She who is the colour-person of the moon takes her middle-night in the sky. She marks her three fives with this dancing, as a shadow of all fulfilments. The circled vows are at full. Give the seven jewels of rain and all of the treasure, you who go from us. After a little time, only a little time, can the mantle be upon the wind that was spread over Matsubara or over Ashilaka the mountain, though the clouds lie in its heaven like a plain awash with sea. Fuji is gone; the great peak of Fuji is blotted out little by little. It melts into the upper mist. In this way she (the Tennin) is lost to sight. KUMASAKA A PLAY IN TWO ACTS BY UJINOBU, ADOPTED SON OF MOTOKIJO. PERSONS OF THE PLAY A PRIEST FIRST SHITE, OR HERO The apparition of Kumasaka in the form of an old priest SECOND SHITE The apparition of Kumasaka in his true form. CHORUS This chorus sometimes speaks what the chief characters are thinking, sometimes it describes or interprets the meaning of their movements. Plot: the ghost of Kumasaka makes reparation for his brigandage by protecting the country. He comes back to praise the bravery of the young man who killed him in single combat. KUMASAKA First Part PRIEST Where shall I rest, wandering, weary of the world? I am a city-bred priest, I have not seen the east counties, and I've a mind to go there. Crossing the hills, I look on the lake of Omi, on the woods of Awatsu. Going over the long bridge at Seta, I rested a night at Noje, and another at Shinohara, and at the dawn I came to the green field, Awono in Miwo. I now pass Akasaka at sunset. SHITE (In the form of an old priest) I could tell that priest a thing or two. PRIEST Do you mean me, what is it? SHITE A certain man died on this day. I ask you to pray for him. PRIEST All right, but for whom shall I pray? SHITE I will not tell you his name, but his grave lies in the green field beyond that tall pine tree. He cannot enter to the gates of Paradise, and so I ask you to pray. PRIEST But I do not think it is proper to pray unless you tell me his name. SHITE No, no; you can pray the prayer, Ho kai shijo biodo riaku; that would do. PRIEST (praying) Unto all mortals let there be equal grace, to pass from this life of agony by the gates of death into law, into the peaceful kingdom. SHITE (saying first a word or two) If you pray for him,-- CHORUS (continuing the sentence) If you pray with the prayer of 'Exeat' he will be thankful, and you need not be aware of his name. They say that prayer can be heard for even the grass and the plants, for even the sand and the soil here; and they will surely hear it, if you pray for an unknown man. SHITE Will you enter? This is my cottage. PRIEST This is your house? Very well, I will hold the service in your house; but I see no picture of Buddha nor any wooden image in this cottage, nothing but a long spear on one wall and an iron stick in place of a priest's wand, and many arrows. What are these for? SHITE (thinking) Yes, this priest is still in the first stage of faith. (aloud) As you see, there are many villages here: Zorii, Awohaka, and Akasaka. But the tall grass of Awo-no-ga-kara grows round the roads between them, and the forest is thick at Koyasu and Awohaka, and many robbers come out under the rains. They attack the baggage on horseback, and take the clothing of maids and servants who pass here. So I go out with this spear. PRIEST That's very fine, isn't it? CHORUS You will think it very strange for a priest to do this; but even Buddha has the sharp sword of Mida, and Aijen Miowo has arrows, and Tamon, taking his long spear, throws down the evil spirits. SHITE The deep love. CHORUS --is excellent. Good feeling and keeping order are much more excellent than the love of Bosatsu. 'I think of these matters and know little of anything else. It is from my own heart that I am lost, wandering. But if I begin talking I shall keep on talking until dawn. Go to bed, good father; I will sleep too.' He seemed to be going to his bedroom, but suddenly his figure disappeared, and the cottage became a field of grass. The priest passes the night under the pine trees. PRIEST I cannot sleep out the night. Perhaps if I held my service during the night under this pine tree.... (He begins his service for the dead man.) * * * * * Second Part SECOND SHITE There are winds in the east and south; the clouds are not calm in the west; and in the north the wind of the dark evening blusters; and under the shade of the mountain-- CHORUS There is a rustling of boughs and leaves. SECOND SHITE Perhaps there will be moon-shine to-night, but the clouds veil the sky; the moon will not break up their shadow. 'Have at them!' 'Ho there!' 'Dash in!' That is the way I would shout, calling and ordering my men before and behind, my bowmen and horsemen. I plundered men of their treasure, that was my work in the world, and now I must go on; it is sorry work for a spirit. PRIEST Are you Kumasaka Chohan? Tell me the tale of your years. SECOND SHITE (now known as Kumasaka) There were great merchants in Sanjo, Yoshitsugu, and Nobutaka; they collected treasure each year; they sent rich goods up to Oku. It was then I assailed their trains. Would you know what men were with me? PRIEST Tell me the chief men, were they from many a province? KUMASAKA There was Kakusho of Kawachi, there were the two brothers Suriharitaro; they have no rivals in fencing. (omotenchi, face to face attack) PRIEST What chiefs came to you from the city? KUMASAKA Emoi of Sanjo, Kozari of Mibu. PRIEST In the fighting with torches and in mêlée-- KUMASAKA They had no equals. PRIEST In northern Hakoku? KUMASAKA Were Aso no Matsuwaka and Mikune no Kure. PRIEST In Kaga? KUMASAKA No, Chohan was the head there. There were seventy comrades who were very strong and skilful. CHORUS While Yoshitsugu was going along in the fields and on the mountains we set many spies to take him. KUMASAKA Let us say that he is come to the village of Ubasike. This is the best place to attack him. There are many ways to escape if we are defeated, and he has invited many guests and has had a great feast at the inn. PRIEST When the night was advanced the brothers Yoshitsugu and Nobutaka fell asleep. KUMASAKA But there was a small boy with keen eyes, about sixteen or seventeen years old, and he was looking through a little hole in the partition, alert to the slightest noise. PRIEST He did not sleep even a wink. KUMASAKA We did not know it was Ushiwaka. PRIEST It was fate. KUMASAKA The hour had come. PRIEST Be quick! KUMASAKA Have at them! CHORUS (describing the original combat, now symbolized in the dance) At this word they rushed in, one after another. They seized the torches; it seemed as if gods could not face them. Ushiwaka stood unafraid; he seized a small sword and fought like a lion in earnest, like a tiger rushing, like a bird swooping. He fought so cleverly that he felled the thirteen who opposed him; many were wounded besides. They fled without swords or arrows. Then Kumasaka said, 'Are you the devil? Is it a god who has struck down these men with such ease? Perhaps you are not a man. However, dead men take no plunder, and I'd rather leave this truck of Yoshitsugu's than my corpse.' So he took his long spear and was about to make off. KUMASAKA --But Kumasaka thought-- CHORUS (taking it up) What can he do, that young chap, if I ply my secret arts freely? Be he god or devil, I will grasp him and grind him. I will offer his body as sacrifice to those whom he has slain. So he drew back, and holding his long spear against his side he hid himself behind the door and stared at the young lad. Ushiwaka beheld him, and holding his sword at his side he crouched at a little distance. Kumasaka waited likewise. They both waited, alertly; then Kumasaka stepped forth swiftly with his left foot, and struck out with the long spear. It would have run through an iron wall. Ushiwaka parried it lightly, swept it away, left volted. Kumasaka followed and again lunged out with the spear, and Ushiwaka parried the spear-blade quite lightly. Then Kumasaka turned the edge of his spear-blade towards Ushiwaka and slashed at him, and Ushiwaka leaped to the right. Kumasaka lifted his spear and the two weapons were twisted together. Ushiwaka drew back his blade. Kumasaka swung with his spear. Ushiwaka led up and stepped into shadow. Kumasaka tried to find him, and Ushiwaka slit through the back-chink of his armour; this seemed the end of his course, and he was wroth to be slain by such a young boy. KUMASAKA Slowly the wound-- CHORUS --seemed to pierce; his heart failed; weakness o'ercame him. KUMASAKA At the foot of this pine tree-- CHORUS He vanished like a dew. And so saying, he disappeared among the shades of the pine tree at Akasaka, and night fell. KAGEKIYO A PLAY IN ONE ACT, BY MOTOKIYO PERSONS OF THE PLAY SHITE Kagekiyo old and blind TSURE Hime his daughter, called also Hitomaru TOMO Her attendant WAKI A villager CHORUS The scene is in Hinga. KAGEKIYO HIME AND TOMO (chanting) What should it be; the body of dew, wholly at the mercy of wind? HIME I am a girl named Hitomaru from Kamega-engayatsu, My father, Akushichi-bioye Kagekiyo, Fought by the side of Heike, And is therefore hated by Genji. He was banished to Miyazaki in Hinga, To waste out the end of his life. Though I am unaccustomed to travel, I will try to go to my father. HIME AND TOMO (describing the journey as they walk across the bridge and the stage) Sleeping with the grass for our pillow, The dew has covered our sleeves. (singing) Of whom shall I ask my way As I go out from Tagami province? Of whom in Totomi? I crossed the bay in a small hired boat And came to Yatsuhashi in Mikawa: Ah when shall I see the City-on-the-cloud? TOMO As we have come so fast, we are now in Miyazaki of Hinga. It is here you should ask for your father. KAGEKIYO (in another corner of the stage) Sitting at the gate of the pine wood, I wear out the end of my years. I cannot see the clear light, I know not how the time passes. I sit here in this dark hovel, with one coat for the warm and the cold, and my body is but a frame-work of bones. CHORUS May as well be a priest with black sleeves. Now having left the world in sorrow, I look upon my withered shape. There is no one to pity me now. HIME Surely no one can live in that ruin, and yet a voice sounds from it. A beggar perhaps, let us take a few steps and see. KAGEKIYO My eyes will not show it me, yet the autumn wind is upon us. HIME The wind blows from an unknown past, and spreads our doubts through the world. The wind blows, and I have no rest, nor any place to find quiet. KAGEKIYO Neither in the world of passion, nor in the world of colour, nor in the world of non-colour, is there any such place of rest; beneath the one sky are they all. Whom shall I ask, and how answer? TOMO Shall I ask the old man by the thatch? KAGEKIYO Who are you? TOMO Where does the exile live? KAGEKIYO What exile? TOMO One who is called Akushichi-bioye Kagekiyo, a noble who fought under Heike. KAGEKIYO Indeed? I have heard of him, but I am blind, I have not looked in his face. I have heard of his wretched condition and pity him. You had better ask for him at the next place. TOMO (to Hime) It seems that he is not here, shall we ask further? (they pass on) KAGEKIYO Strange, I feel that woman who has just passed is the child of that blind man. Long ago I loved a courtezan in Atsuta, one time when I was in that place. But I thought our girl-child would be no use to us, and I left her with the head man in the valley of Kamega-engayatsu; and now she has gone by me and spoken, although she does not know who I am. CHORUS Although I have heard her voice, The pity is that I cannot see her. And I have let her go by Without divulging my name. This is the true love of a father. TOMO (at further side of the stage) Is there any native about? VILLAGER What do you want with me? TOMO Do you know where the exile lives? VILLAGER What exile is it you want? TOMO Akushichi-bioye Kagekiyo, a noble of Heike's party. VILLAGER Did you not pass an old man under the edge of the mountain, as you were coming that way? TOMO A blind beggar in a thatched cottage. VILLAGER That fellow was Kagekiyo. What ails the lady? she shivers. TOMO A question you might well ask. She is the exile's daughter. She wanted to see her father once more, and so came hither to seek him. Will you take us to Kagekiyo? VILLAGER Bless my soul! Kagekiyo's daughter. Come, come, never mind, young miss. Now I will tell you, Kagekiyo went blind in both eyes, and so he shaved his crown and called himself 'The Blind man of Hinga.' He begs a bit from the passers, and the likes of us keep him; he'd be ashamed to tell you his name. However, I'll come along with you, and then I'll call out, 'Kagekiyo;' and if he comes, you can see him and have a word with him. Let us along, (they cross the stage, and the villager calls) Kagekiyo, Oh there, Kagekiyo! KAGEKIYO Noise, noise! Someone came from my home to call me, but I sent them on. I couldn't be seen like this. Tears like the thousand lines in a rain storm, bitter tears soften my sleeve. Ten thousand things rise in a dream, and I wake in this hovel, wretched, just a nothing in the wide world. How can I answer when they call me by my right name? CHORUS Do not call out the name he had in his glory. You will move the bad blood in his heart, (then taking up Kagekiyo's thought) I am angry. KAGEKIYO Living here.... CHORUS (going on with Kagekiyo's thought) I go on living here, hated by the people in power. A blind man without his staff, I am deformed, and therefore speak evil; excuse me. KAGEKIYO My eyes are darkened. CHORUS Though my eyes are dark I understand the thoughts of another. I understand at a word. The wind comes down from the pine trees on the mountain, and snow comes down after the wind. The dream tells of my glory, I am loth to wake from the dream. I hear the waves running in the evening tide, as when I was with Heike. Shall I act out the old ballad? KAGEKIYO (to the villager) I had a weight on my mind, I spoke to you very harshly, excuse me. VILLAGER You're always like that, never mind it. Has anyone been here to see you? KAGEKIYO No one but you. VILLAGER Go on, that is not true. Your daughter was here. Why couldn't you tell her the truth, she being so sad and so eager. I have brought her back now. Come now, speak with your father. Come along. HIME O, O, I came such a long journey, under rain, under wind, wet with dew, over the frost; you do not see into my heart. It seems that a father's love goes when the child is not worth it. KAGEKIYO I meant to keep it concealed, but now they have found it all out. I shall drench you with the dew of my shame, you who are young as a flower. I tell you my name, and that we are father and child; yet I thought this would put dishonour upon you, and therefore I let you pass. Do not hold it against me. CHORUS At first I was angry that my friends would no longer come near me. But now I have come to a time when I could not believe that even a child of my own would seek me out. (singing) Upon all the boats of the men of Heike's faction Kagekiyo was the fighter most in call, Brave were his men, cunning sailors, And now even the leader Is worn out and dull as a horse. VILLAGER (to Kagekiyo) Many a fine thing is gone, sir; your daughter would like to ask you.... KAGEKIYO What is it? VILLAGER She has heard of your old fame in Uashima. Would you tell her the ballad? KAGEKIYO Towards the end of the third month it was, in the third year of Juei. We men of Heike were in ships, the men of Genji were on land. Their war-tents stretched on the shore. We awaited decision. And Noto-no-Kami Noritsune said: 'Last year in the hills of Harima, & in Midzushima, and in Hiyodorigoye of Bitchiu, we were defeated time and again, for Yoshitsine is tactful and cunning.' 'Is there any way we can beat them?' (Kagekiyo thought in his mind) 'This Hangan Yoshitsine is neither god nor a devil, at the risk of my life I might do it.' So he took leave of Noritsune and led a party against the shore, and all the men of Genji rushed on them. CHORUS Kagekiyo cried, 'You are haughty.' His armour caught every turn of the sun. He drove them four ways before them. KAGEKIYO (excited and crying out) Samoshiya! Run, cowards! CHORUS He thought, how easy this killing. He rushed with his spear-haft gripped under his arm. He cried out, 'I am Kagekiyo of the Heike.' He rushed on to take them. He pierced through the helmet vizards of Miyonoya. Miyonoya fled twice, and again; and Kagekiyo cried, 'You shall not escape me!' He leaped and wrenched off his helmet. 'Eya!' The vizard broke and remained in his hand and Miyonoya still fled afar, and afar, and he looked back crying in terror, 'How terrible, how heavy your arm!' And Kagekiyo called at him, 'How tough the shaft of your neck is!' And they both laughed out over the battle, and went off each his own way. CHORUS These were the deeds of old, but oh, to tell them! To be telling them over now in his wretched condition. His life in the world is weary, he is near the end of his course. 'Go back,' he would say to his daughter. 'Pray for me when I am gone from the world, for I shall then count upon you as we count on a lamp in the darkness ... we who are blind.' 'I will stay,' she said. Then she obeyed him, and only one voice is left. We tell this for the remembrance. Thus were the parent and child. END NOTES Ernest Fenollosa has left this memorandum on the stoicism of the last play: I asked Mr. Hirata how it could be considered natural or dutiful for the daughter to leave her father in such a condition. He said, 'that the Japanese would not be in sympathy with such sternness now, but that it was the old Bushido spirit. The personality of the old man is worn out, no more good in this life. It would be sentimentality for her to remain with him. No good could be done. He could well restrain his love for her, better that she should pray for him and go on with the work of her normal life.' Of the plays in this book, 'Nishikigi' has appeared in 'Poetry,' 'Hagoromo' in 'The Quarterly Review,' and 'Kumasaka,' in 'The Drama;' to the editors of which periodicals I wish to express my acknowledgment. Ezra Pound. 
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5762	----	and the Distributed Online Proofreading Team. Transcriber's Note: Some umlauts and other fine distinctions of Sa'a orthography have been lost. The Lau orthography is correct as given. GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY OF THE LAU LANGUAGE: SOLOMON ISLANDS BY WALTER G. IVENS, M. A., LITT. D. CARNEGIE INSTITUTION OF WASHINGTON PUBLICATION NO. 300 PREFACE. Lau is the name given to the language spoken by the inhabitants of the artificial islets which lie off the northeast coast of Big Malaita, Solomon Islands. The language spoken on the coast from Uru on the northeast to Langalanga, Alite Harbor, on the northwest of Big Malaita, is practically Lau. On the west coast there is considerable admixture of Fiu, which is the language of the bush behind the Langalanga lagoon. In Dr. Codrington's "Melanesian Languages," pp. 39 et seq., certain words are given as spoken at Alite in Langalanga. These words are probably Fiu rather than Lau. The purest Lau is spoken at Sulufou, one of the artificial islets near Atta Cove. The inhabitants of Ai-lali, on the mainland of Big Malaita opposite the island Aio, are an offshoot of the Lau-speaking peoples. In Port Adam (Malau) on Little Malaita, some 12 miles north of Sa'a, there are two villages, Ramarama and Malede, inhabited by Lau-speaking peoples, and the inhabitants of these villages hold as a tradition that their forefathers migrated from Suraina, near Atta Cove, 80 miles away, along the coast to the north. The Lau of this grammar and vocabulary was learned from dealings with the Port Adam natives and also from a stay of several weeks with Rev. A. I. Hopkins, at Mangoniia, on the mainland opposite the artificial islet Ferasubua. It is not claimed that the Lau here presented is the same as the Lau of the northeast coast of Big Malaita. Doubtless owing to the Port Adam peoples being surrounded by Sa'a-speaking peoples, they have adopted Sa'a words and methods of speech to some extent. The women of the hill peoples above Port Adam have largely been procured as wives for the Port Adam men and thus there has been a tendency for the distinctiveness of the Lau language to disappear and for the Sa'a words to be adopted. While this tendency was perhaps not very great previous to the introduction of Christianity (for the village children always follow the language of the father rather than that of the mother), the teachers in the village schools, after Christianity was introduced, necessarily used the Sa'a books and, when translations were eventually made into Lau, words and phrases of Sa'a crept in. So far as lay in the power of the present author, he has endeavored to eliminate these Sa'a elements from the present work. In the translations made into Lau, some use has been made of the gerundive, following the use in Sa'a; but until we have further evidence of the validity of this usage it must be regarded as not belonging to the genius of the Lau language, and it is therefore omitted here. It will be seen that Lau is a typical Melanesian language and has few marked peculiarities. In Sa'a there is a distinctive use of the shortened forms of the pronouns of the first and second persons, _au_ and _'o_, suffixed to verbs and prepositions as object; in Lau the same shortening is not effected and the longer forms _nau_, _oe_, are used. It has not been thought proper to represent any break in pronunciation such as occurs in Sa'a in such words, e. g., as _ia_ fish, Sa'a _i'e_. Lau shows generally the dropping of such consonants as are dropped in Sa'a, but it is doubtful if the same break occurs in pronunciation. The books already printed in Lau are: 1. A translation of the English Prayer Book comprising matins and evensong, litany, baptism of adults, certain psalms and hymns, catechism, Holy Communion with Sunday collects. 2. The four Gospels. The grammar here given is an alteration of the grammar prepared by the present writer, and printed at Norfolk Island by the Mission Press in 1914. W. G. Ivens. St. Paul's Vicarage, Malvern, Victoria, 1920. TABLE OF ABBREVIATIONS. adj., adjective. adv., adverb. art., article. def., definite. demons., demonstrative. excl., exclusive (of personal pronouns, excluding the person addressed). exclam., exclamation. genit., genitive. _gu_, marks a noun as taking the suffixed pronouns _gu_, _mu_, _na_. incl., inclusive (of personal pronouns, including the person addressed). interj., interjection. interr., interrogative. metath., metathesis. n., noun. _na_, marks a noun as taking the suffixed pronoun in the third singular only. neg., negative. neut., neuter. obj., object. part., particle. partic., participle. pers., person, personal. pl., plural. poss., possessive. pr., pronoun. pref., prefix. prep., preposition. S, Sa'a language. See Sa'a and Ulawa dictionary. sing., singular. sub., subject. suff., suffix, suffixed. term., termination. tr., transitive. U, Ulawa language. See Sa'a and Ulawa dictionary. v., verb. v.i., verb intransitive, i.e., a verb which can not take the pronoun suffixed. v.p., verbal particle. v.tr., verb transitive, i.e., a verb which can take the pronoun suffixed. voc., vocative. M.L., Codrington's Melanesian Languages. LAU GRAMMAR. THE ALPHABET. The vowels are a, e, i, o, u, with the Italian sounds. All of these vowels may be long or short, the long sound being represented by a doubling of the vowel. Closed syllables do not occur, and every word ends with a vowel. The vowel o in Lau frequently represents a in Sa'a: _fou_ rock, Sa'a _hau_; _finau_ hook, Sa'a _hinou_; _loulou_ quick, Sa'a _lauleu_. Where in Sa'a a changes to e in certain words after a preceding i or u, no such change is made in Lau in the same words: _ia_ fish, Sa'a _i'e_; _ua_ still, Sa'a _ue_; _i asi_ at sea, Sa'a i _'esi_. The diphthongs are ae, ai, ao, eu, ei, ou, as in _sae_, _mai_, _rao_, _dau_, _mei_, _fou_, pronounced, respectively, as in the English words eye, iron, hour, how, hey, oh. The consonants are f, k, g; d, t; b; q, gw; l, r; s; m; mw; n, ng. The f replaces an h in Sa'a: _fera_ village, Sa'a _hera_ courtyard; _fuli fera_ village, Sa'a _huli_ bed, _huli nume_ site of house. The sound represented by f often approximates to v. Both k and g are hard. The Melanesian g is not heard; as in Sa'a, it has been dropped in certain words, _ia_ fish, but there is no noticeable break in the pronunciation. In certain other words this g is replaced by k: _take_, to stand. Mota _sage_, Sa'a _ta'e_. The g in Lau may replace a k in Sa'a: _igera_ they, Sa'a _ikire_. A g also appears in personal pronoun plural 1, excl., where Sa'a has a break: _igami_ we, Sa'a _i'emi_. A g may also replace an h in Sa'a: _luga_ to loose, Sa'a _luhe_. There is no preface of n in the sound of d. In many words a t has been dropped: _angi_ to cry, Oceanic _tangi_; _asi_ sea, Oceanic _tasi_; _ola_ canoe, Florida _tiola_, Sa'a _'iola_. There is no w in Lau. Where it occurs in Sa'a its place is supplied in Lau by q, the sound of which is kw or ku: _qalu_ eight, Sa'a _walu_. In Lau the island Ulawa is known as Ulaqa. A q in Lau may represent an h in Sa'a: _qai_, the reciprocal prefix, is in Sa'a _hai_. The letter gw may represent a q (pw) in Sa'a: _gwou_ head, Sa'a _qau_; _gwini_ wet, Sa'a _qini_; _gwou_ deserted, Mota _wou_. The sound of d is not followed by r, as is the case in Sa'a, nor is d before i sounded any way differently, as is the case in Sa'a. Nasal m, i.e., mw, is not so common a sound as it is in Sa'a, but it is heard in _mwane_ male, _mwela_ child. There is an interchange between n and l: _nima_ or _lima_ five; _daluma_ middle, Sa'a _danume_; _inala_ to discern, Sa'a _ilala_. Both l and r are used and the sounds are distinct; both sounds are trilled. ARTICLES. (a) Demonstrative: Singular, _na, si; ta, te, ke; maae; fe_. Plural, _gi; mwai, ote_. (b) Personal: _a, ni_. _Na_ denotes a, any, the, and is put to more general use than the corresponding _nga_ in Sa'a; _na_ is used with both singular and plural: _na noni_ the body; _na sasigamu_ your brethren. The conjunction _ma_ (=and) coalesces with _na_; _mana Mwela_ and the Son. _Na_ is used with the interrogative _taa_ what. 2. _Si_ is more definite and particular in meaning than _na_ and denotes a part, a piece, any; it is more or less equivalent to _me'i_ in Sa'a: _si doo ne_ the thing; _gamelu ka ania si taa_ what are we to eat? _si ere_ a firestick; _si doo gu saea na_ that which I said; _na_ may be prefixed: _na si baea taa ne_ what words? _si_ can not be used of the plural. 3. _Ta_ means a certain one, every, at all, just, only, and is the same as the numeral _ta_ one: _ta_ may precede the article _fe_; _ta fe uo_ every hill, _ni_ may follow _ta_: _tani aiai_ some, other. _ta_ may mean only: _ta ro ai_ only two people; _ta_ may be used with the numerals, _ta ro mwane_ two men; _ta ro tangale penny_ 200 pence. _Te_ has practically the same meanings as _ta_: _te geni sarii_ a maiden; _te taifilia_ he alone; _te aiai falaete_ one person only. _Te_ is used of units (as _ata_ in Sa'a), _te fiu fe doo_ only seven things; _te ai ma te ai_ one by one; _too te ai_ singly. _Si_ may follow both _ta_ and _te_: _ta si fou_ a certain rock, _te si na doo_ everything; _te_ may be used as equivalent to the conjunction and: _te na Mwela_ and the Son. _Ke_ is used as _te_: _ke si gula iidimani_ a small piece; _ro kesi kurui bata_ two small pieces of money. _Ke_ and _si_ may be combined and used with _te_: _e langi asia na teke si doo_ there is nothing at all. 4. _Maae_ is compounded of _maa_ eye, one, and _e_ the construct form, and means one, a; _maae_ is used with _fera_ country, _dangi_ day, _rodo_ night, _oru_ wind; _maae fera_ a village, _maaedangi_ a day, _maaerodo_ darkness. 5. _Qe_ is used with certain nouns: _qe afe_ a widow, _qe ia_ a fish, _qe oru_ a widow; _na_ may be prefixed: _na qe ia gi_ the fishes. 6. _Fe_ is used of things spherical in shape and denotes a unit: _fe bread_ a loaf, _fe bubulu_ a star; also _fe gale bola_ a young pigeon, _fe rade_ a reed; _fe_ is used of one of a series: _fe rodo_ a night, _fe asua_ a day; _fe_ is also used as a multiplicative: _fe fiu ade doo taala_ seven cases of wrong-doing; _na or ta or te_ may precede. 7. _Gi_ denotes plurality and follows the noun: _na mwane gi_ the males. It may be separated from the noun: _na doo nia gi_ his things; _gi_ is used with the forms of the personal pronoun plural except those ending in _lu_. 8. _Mwai_ is used with nouns of relationship only: _mwai asi nia_ his brethren, _ro mwai sasina_ brethren. 9. In Port Adam _ote_ seems to be employed as a regular plural article: _ote mwane gi_ you men. But it is a question whether _ote_ is not properly employed of females only: _ote aia nia_ his female relations, _ote sasina_ his sisters, _ote ai_ you women, _ote ai gi_ you women. 10. _A_ is used as a personal article with the names of males, both native and foreign: _a Leo_, _a Joe_. It is used also with _doo_ thing: _a doo_ so and so, _a doo na_ the person. _Ni_ is used as a personal article with the names of females, both native and foreign: _ni Alida_, _ni Mary_. It is used also with certain nouns which denote women, where in Sa'a _nga_ or the personal article _a_ is used: _ni te nau_ my mother, _ni mwaemwane_ a man's sister, a woman's brother, _ni aia_ female relations, _ni doo_ the woman, _ni mwela ne_ that woman. _Ni_ is not used with _afe_ wife, nor with _geni_ female; it is not used with the plural. NOUNS. 1. Nouns to which possessive suffixes may be added: Certain nouns take the suffixed pronoun denoting the possessor. These are nouns denoting: a. Parts of the body: _lima_ hand, _limagu_ my hand, _aba_ arm, _abamu_ thy arm, _maa_ eye, _maamu_ thy eye. b. Position, end, middle, top: _buri_ behind, _burigu_ behind me, _i dalumana_ in the midst, _isingana_ its end, _i kamena lobo_ beside the lake, _i fafona_ on top of it. c. Certain states or doings of men: life, death, speech, custom, goings: _mae_ to die, _maela_ death, _maelana_ his death, _baela_ speech, _baelagu_ my word. d. The word _sasi_ brother, _sasigu_ my brother, my sister. The other words denoting relationship employ the personal pronoun to denote possession. 2. Formation of nouns: Nouns which have a special termination showing them to be nouns substantive are (a) verbal nouns and (b) independent nouns. a. Verbal nouns are formed from verbs by the terminations _a_, _fa_, _la_, _ta_: _mae_ to die, _maea_ death or sickness, _maela_ death, _bae_ to speak, _baea_ word, _baela_ speech, _fanga_ to eat, _fangaa_ feast, food, _fangala_ food, _mae_ to die, _maemaefa_ sickness, _nao_ to lead, _naofa_ first, _naofe mwela_ eldest child, also with suffixed pronoun _naofana mwela_; _ta_ is seen in the root _afuta_ all, which is used only with the suffixed pronoun, _afutagera_ all of them, _afutana na ai gi_ all the people. The termination _la_ has a more or less gerundival force. Compound nouns may be formed, _girigiri lifoa_ gnashing of teeth, _saitama dooa_ wisdom. Where in the vocabulary _fa_ and _ta_ have a hyphen attached, it is intended to show that they are used only with the suffixed pronoun attached. There are certain adjectives to which the termination _la_ is attached, _diena_ good, _dienala_ goodness, _baita_ big, _baitala_ bigness, and _tasa_ in excess, _tasala_ excess. It is probable, however, that these words are really verbs. b. Independent nouns: The only termination is na, and this is added (1) to certain nouns which express relation ship or kindred; (2) to cardinal numerals to form ordinals. 1. Nouns so formed are always preceded by a prefix which marks reciprocity of relationship or kindred, _mwai_, and by the numeral _ro_ two; _sasi_ brother, _ro mwai sasina_ the two brothers, _te_ mother, _ro mwai telana_ wife and child. 2. Numerals: _olu_ three, _oluna_ third. 3. Construct form: To make a construct form the letter _e_ is added to the first of two nouns, _toloe fera_ hill, _fuli abae ai_ men's handwork. When the first member ends in _a_ the _ae_ sometimes contracts to _e_, _fufue ai_ seed, _aqale mwai_ ten baskets, but _maae rodo_, a night; also when the first noun ends in _o_ the _oe_ is contracted to _e_: _abole ai_ a log, _abolo_ a piece. This _e_ may be added to words which have not a distinct noun termination: _naoe gula_ the chief place. 4. Genitive relation: The genitive relation of nouns one to another is effected by the use of the propositions _ni_ and _i_: _ni_ is used mainly in construction: _baea ni sugela_ deceitful words, _gwai ni gwaila_ anointing oil; _ni_ expresses purpose: _si gula ni lea inia_ a place for him to go to, _rosuli ni manatai gami_ hear us in mercy. In certain words _li_ replaces _ni_: _maalimaea_ enemy, _maalitafa_ a channel in a reef; _i_ is used also to denote purpose: _lea i fasifa_ came to sell it. Location, which also denotes place whence, is shown by _i_, _geni i Saa_, a Sa'a woman. _Si_ is used in certain phrases: _ofu si doo_ bundles, _ro tooni si doo_ two thousand. The genitive is frequently omitted _olu teu flour_, three measures of flour, _mumudi fangala_ crumbs of food, _mwane Saa_, a Sa'a man, _falisi vine_ a vineyard. The possessive _ana_ may be used to denote the genitive: _luma ana foaa_ house of prayer, _tala ana fanualama_ way of peace. A genitive relation is also shown by the use of the suffixed pronoun of the third person singular or plural in agreement with the idea expressed in the second noun of the pair: _i tolona fera_ on the tops of the hills, _gwouda na ai gi_ men's heads. The ordinary personal pronouns are used as possessive in cases where the pronoun can not be suffixed: _afe nau_ my wife, _arai nia_ her husband. The instrumental prefix i occurs: _kamu_ to eat areca nut, _ikamu_ a line spatula. 5. Plural: To show plurality _gi_ is used, following the noun _na mwane gi_ the men. The word _oro_, many, may be attached: _na mwane oro gi_ many men, _tani ai oro_ many people. The personal pronoun plural third _gera_ is used to mark plurality: _gera fiolo_ the hungry, _gera priest da adea urina_ the priests acted thus. Totally and completion are shown by _sui_ finished or _sui na_: _afutada sui_ they all, _gera lea sui na_ they have gone already. To express totality the suffixed pronoun singular third and all persons plural are added to a root _afuta_, formed from _afu_ to complete, with _ta_ noun termination: _afutanafera_ all the land, _afutana nonigu_ all my whole body. It is a question whether the numeral _qalu_ eight is used like _walu_ in Sa'a of an indefinite number, e.g., _qalu fera_ all lands; but _te si nafera_ seems to be the proper usage. 6. Gender: There is no grammatical gender. The words _mwane_ male, _geni_ female, are added when the noun does not carry a sex distinction. 7. Nouns of relationship: With the exception of sasi brother, sister, nouns of relationship are never used with a suffixed pronoun: _maa nau_ my father. The prefix _mwai_, denoting reciprocity of relationship, may precede: _mwai asi nau_ brethren. In speaking of pairs of people _ro_ is used: _ro mwai sasina_ two brothers. The _na_ of _sasina_, _telana_, etc., is a noun termination and is not the suffixed pronoun. The articles _ni_ for the singular and _ote_ for the plural are used of women: _ni aia_ a female relation, _ote geni_ women. The word for father is _maa_; the article _na_ may be prefixed: _na maa nau_ my father. The Rev. A. I. Hopkins says that _maaka nau_ is also commonly used as meaning my father. The word for child is _mwela_, _mwela na ai_ So-and-So's son, _mwela nia_ his child; _aia_ is used for female relations with _ni_ as singular article and _ote_ as plural: _mwaemwane_ sister, _ni mwaemwane_ a man's sister. The adjective _gale_ little, is used preceding the noun to describe something young: _ro fe gale bola_ two young pigeons. The article used with _te_, mother, is _ni_: _ni te nau_ my mother; _ta ro mwai telana nau_ my wife and child, _ta ro mwai fungona_ two relations-at-law; _ai_ person, man, is used as a vocative: _mwela ai_ hey, you there! _na ai oe_ your people, _ai ni raoa_ a servant, _ai tou_ the little one, the lesser. PRONOUNS. The pronouns may be classified as (A) those used as the subject of a verb; (B) those suffixed to a verb or a preposition as object; (c) those suffixed to nouns substantive and denoting possession. A. PRONOUNS USED AS THE SUBJECT OF A VERB. Singular: (1) _inau, naut gu_. (2) _ioe, oe, o_. (3) _inia, niat nit e_. Plural: Inclusive: (1) _igia, gia; igolu, golu_. Exclusive: (1) _igami, gami, mi; igamelu, gamelu_. (2) _igamu, gamu; igamolu, gamolu_. (3) _igera, gera, da; idalu, dalu_. Dual: Inclusive: (1) _igoro, goro_. Exclusive: (1) _igamere, gamere_. (2) _igamoro, gamoro_. (3) _idarot daro_. 1. The longer forms, those with _i_, are used as possessive pronouns when the suffixed pronoun can not be added: _geni inau_ my wife. The forms with _i_ are never used by themselves as the subject, but are accompanied by one of the shorter forms: _igera da ada ma da si ada na_ they see but do not see. The three longer forms in the singular are of more or less infrequent use. The initial _i_ is run on to the preceding vowel in pronunciation. 2. All the forms without _i_ are used alone as the subject of the verb. Where there are three forms the second and third are generally used together as subjects: _gami mi langi si saetamana_ we do not know; but the short forms _gu_, _o_, _mi_, _mu_, _da_, may be used alone as subjects: _gu si saea_ I do not know. The forms in _lu_ are not used as a trial number, but denote a more restricted number of persons. 3. _Nia_ is used as meaning, there is, it is: _efita fe bread nia agamolu_, how many loaves have you? It may be used before a proper name as the equivalent to a genitive: _ana maaedangi nia Abiathar_ in the days of Abiathar. When the meaning is, there is, it is, _nia_ is preceded by _e_: _na liqa gera enia ada_ they have their holes; _ma te ai enia i luma_ there is only one person in the house; with _na_ demonstrative added: _nia na_ that is it, that is so. 4. The form _ni_ is seen in _nifai_ what? where? It occurs in certain phrases as meaning, it is, there is: _e uta ro si lio ni agamu_ how is it ye are of two minds? _na light fuana noni ni maa_ the light of the body it is the eye. 5. The plural sign _gi_ is used with the forms in the plural but not with those ending in _lu_: _gia gi fi dao na_ we have just come. 6. The forms in the plural third _igera_ and _gera_ are used as equivalent to a plural article: _igera na judea_ the Jews. 7. The pronouns of the third person singular and plural may be used of impersonal or inanimate things. B. PRONOUNS SUFFIXED TO VERBS OR TO PREPOSITIONS AS OBJECT. Singular: (1) _nau_. (2) _oe_. (3) _a_. Plural: Inclusive: (1) _gia_, _golu_. Exclusive: (1) _gami_, _gamelu_. (2) _gamu_, _gamolu_. (3) _gera_, _da_, _dalu_. Dual: Inclusive: (1) _goro_. Exclusive: (1) _gamere_. (2) _gamoro_. (3) _daro_. 1. Examples of usage are, _gera saegera sui_ they were all summoned, _nia lea fonosia_ he went to get it. A second object of the verb always appears in the suffixed pronoun singular and plural third: _gu langi si adasia na ola_ I did not see a canoe, _gera gutafigera na mwane gi_ they persecuted the men. All prepositions governing nouns have the pronoun suffixed as an anticipatory object in agreement with the noun: _gera lea fonosia fera_ they went to harm the land, _fafia si doo_ concerning the matter. 2. The verb _dori_ (to wish) has the pronoun suffixed where in Sa'a none would be used: _nia langi si doria gwou ana_ he would not drink (it) of it. 3. To _taifili_ (alone) the pronouns are suffixed: _te taifilia_ he alone, _taifiligera_ they alone. C. PRONOUNS SUFFIXED TO NOUNS OR TO VERBAL NOUNS USED AS PREPOSITIONS. Singular: (1) _gu_. (2) _mu_. (3) _na_. Plural: Inclusive: (1) _gia_, _golu_. Exclusive: (1) _gami_, _gamelu_. (2) _gamu_, _gamolu_. (3) _gera_, _da_, _dalu_. Dual: Inclusive: (1) _goro_. Exclusive: (1) _gamere_. (2) _gamoro_. (3) _dar 1. These are the pronouns denoting possession and they are suffixed to a certain class of nouns only, those which denote names of parts of the body, or of family relationship, or of things in close relationship to the possessor. In all other cases possession is denoted by the use of the ordinary personal pronouns. 2. When things and not persons are in question _ni_ is used in place of _da_ in plural third: _lea alua i fulini_ go and put them in their places. 3. Of the plural forms those ending in _lu_ denote a restriction in the number of the persons concerned. 4. These pronouns are also suffixed to the preposition _fua_ to, used as a dative, to _afuta_ all, and to certain other words which show a noun termination but which have no independent existence as nouns: _otofa_ concerning, _oofa_ approaching to, enceinte, _sie_, at the house of (in the vocabulary all such words are followed by a hyphen); also to _mara_ of one's own accord, alone, _te taifilia marana_ he alone; also to the verb _too_ to hit, _toogu_, _toona_, hit me, etc. DEMONSTRATIVE PRONOUNS. These are _na_, _ne_, this; _nena_, _nana_, _nane_, that. 1. These all follow a noun or a pronoun: _a mwela ne_ this person, _nia nana_ that is it. 2. _Na_ is added after the negative _langi_: _langi na no_, not that; and after _sui_ finished: _sui na_ that is finished. 3. _Go_ an adverb, there, is used as a demonstrative: _tefe doo go ana_ only one thing, _inau go agu_ I for my part; _ne_ may be added, _gone_ that, _inia gone_ that is so. _Ba_ means that, there: _diena ba_ good! _bago_ is used following a noun or a pronoun: _a doo bago_ that person there. INTERROGATIVE PRONOUNS. 1. The words used are _ati_, who; _taa, tafa_, what. The personal article _a_ makes _ati_ who, singular, _gerati_ plural. Both _ti_ and _taa_ are nouns. The adverb _ba_ may be added to _ati_ for the purpose of emphasis: _ati ba_ who? _Ti_ stands for the name of the person and _ati_ means, what is the name? _ati mwane_ what man? The demonstrative _ne_ may be added for emphasis: _ati ne_ who is it then? _Ati_ has also an indefinite use: _ati susulia_ who knows? 2. With _taa_, _tafa_, the definite article _si_ may be used: _si taa_ what, that which, _taa_ may follow the noun, _ta si doo taa_ what sort of thing? _si doo taa ne_ what? The adverb _fai_ (where) may be used as an interrogative pronoun: _nifai_ which, what? INDEFINITE PRONOUNS. The uses of _ta_, _te__, have been dealt with under "articles." These two words are used as signifying, any, some, other. The noun _sai_ place, thing, has an indefinite use: _sai ai_ that which, what, _sai na_ that which, _ta sai ai_, one, another (of things), _sai oe_ your place, your duty, _tani oto ni sai ai_ some people. (The Rev. A. I. Hopkins states in a note that _sai_ in Lau is used of food only). RELATIVE PRONOUNS. There are no relative pronouns. Their place is supplied by various locutions. 1. By the suffixed pronoun: _inia nane gu bae kekerofana fasi uri_ this is he of whom I spoke. The addition of the demonstrative _ne, nena_, serves to make the meaning clearer: _inia nena ai garni mi maasia_ he is the person for whom we are waiting. 2. By making use of a coordinate clause: _igami ne too gera ada fuada na_ we are the people whom they have chosen. POSSESSIVES. Singular: (1) _agu_. (2) _amu_. (3) _ana_. Plural: Inclusive: (1) _aga_, _agolu_. Exclusive: (1) _agami_, _agamelu_. (2) _agamu_, _agamolu_. (3) _agera_, _ada_, _adalu_. Dual: Inclusive: (1) _agoro_. Exclusive: (1) _agamere_. (2) _agamoro_. (3) _adaro_. The possessive is used: 1. Of things to eat and drink: _si fangala agu_ something for me to eat, _o ngalia amu_ take it for your eating, _si doo ana gera priest tafiligera_ food for the priests only. When the sense relates to food in general and not to a particular meal the ordinary personal pronouns are employed as possessives: _si doo ni gwou inau_ a drink for me. 2. As meaning, for me, for my part, etc., belonging to, at, with: _geni agu_ a wife for me, _nia lea ana_ he went his way, _gu ka gele dau go agu_ if I but touch, _fuana ngalia fera nia agolu_ to get his land for ourselves, _si mamana nia ana_ power in himself, his power, _si doo oro agu_ I have many things, _e langi ana_ not in it, lost, _nia soe agera_ he questioned them, _soea satana ana a doo bago_ ask so-and-so his name, _nia ledia tasi doo agu_ he asked me about something, _ooganga agera_ their debt. 3. As the object of a neuter verb (i. e., a verb which does not take a transitive suffix): _gera da qele ana_ they marvelled at him, _gu ingo amu_ I beseech thee, _dau agu_ touch me, _bota ana_ blessed is he. 4. With verbs when the object is separated from the verb: _nia bubu tete adalu_ he regarded them fixedly, _ka lugatai saufini ana_ let him go secretly, _da bae aisile ana_ they spoke scornfully of him: _ala meme gamu_ to bite and rend you, is a variant. 5. To express, of, from, among: _ati mwane agamu_ what man of you? 6. The forms ending in _lu_ denote a restriction in the number of the people concerned. 7. The adverb _afoa_ apart is also followed by the possessive: _afoa ana_ apart from him. 8. It will be seen that the one possessive in Lau does the work of the three that are used in Sa'a. A Port Adam man asking for a wife at Sa'a and saying _geni ana_ (as has happened at times) would be asked whether he wanted to eat her--the Sa'a use being _keni nana_, _'ana_ being reserved of things to eat. ADJECTIVES. 1. Words which are qualifying terms may also be used in the form of verbs, but some may be used without verbal particles and follow the qualified word. _Mwane baita_ a big man, _mwela tou_ a little child. 2. Some words have a form which is used only of adjectives, either of termination or of prefix. a. Adjectival terminations are: _a_, _la_. The termination _a_ is suffixed to substantives and verbs: _rodo_ night, _rorodoa_ dark, darkness, cloud; _bulu_ to be black, _bubulua_ black. _La_ is suffixed to substantives and verbs: _mwai_ a bag, _mwaila_ rich, _kobu_ to be fat, _kobukobula_ fat, whole, big; _tagalo_ to be wandering, _tagalola_ matted, thick, of forest. b. Adjectival prefixes are _a_, _ma_, _tata_, _m_. These are all prefixed to verbs. The _a_ is prefixed to verbs to form participles: _luga_ to loose, _aluga_ loose; _la_ to lift up, _alaa_ upwards, up. _Ma_ denotes condition: _lingi_ to pour, _malingi_ spilled, _ngi_ to divide, _mangisingisi_ broken, divided, _matala_ only, merely; _tefe mwela matala_ an only child. _Tata_ denotes spontaneity: _tatagwelu_ headlong. _M_ as a prefix appears to be used in the word _moi_ broken, (Sa'a _'o'i_ to break, _ma'o'i_ broken). 3. Comparison: Degrees of comparison are shown by the use of prepositions or adverbs, or by a simple positive statement. The prepositions used are _fasi_ from, _tasa_ beyond, in excess. The suffixed pronoun is used with _fasi_, but the possessive is used with _tasa_: _na boso nia baita fasia na asufe_ a pig is larger than a rat; _gera baita tasa agera_ these are much larger than those. The adverbs employed are _gele_ little, somewhat, _asia_ very, too much: _nia baita asia_ it is very (too) large. A positive statement carries comparison by implication: _doo ne nia baita_ that is biggest, _sai ai ne ni diena, sai ai nena ni taa na_ this is good, that is bad; i.e., this is better than that. VERBS. Almost any word may be used as a verb by prefixing the verbal particles, but some words are naturally verbs as being the names of actions and not of things. There are also verbs which have special forms as such by means of a prefix or termination. Verbal particles precede the verb; they have a temporal force. 1. The verbal particles are _ka_, _ko_. The particles are written apart from the verb, but the speakers like to join them to the governing pronouns of the first and second persons singular, _gu_, _o_. _Ka_ is used both of present and of future time: _nia ka bae uri_ he speaks thus, _ka urina_ if that be so, _tasi doo taa gera ka odea_ what will they do? _lelea ka rodo_ go till nightfall; the illatives _fi_, _fe_, may be added. _Ko_ is used only with the personal pronoun, second singular _o_, and may express either present or future time: the illative may be added. The preposition _fuana_ to him, to it, in order that, is used as a subjunctive or optative. 2. Time and Moods: A subjunctive is formed by _ana_ if, when, followed by the particle _ka_, or by the use of _saea_. Conditional affirmation is expressed by _saumala_. The illatives are _fi_ and _fe_, and mean, then, in that case, following upon, just now, for the first time: _ta ka fi uri_ then said he, _gami mifi saitamana na tala uta_ and how shall we know the way? _Fe_ as an illative denotes, in that case, following upon; _fe_ is also used like _ha'i_ in Sa'a, to denote repetition or continuance or restoration: _na abana e fe boeboela lau_ his hand was restored whole again, _gera ka fe dao toona_ they will certainly reach him, _daro fe lea lau_ go they went on again, _da tefe bae ana tesi baela_ they all cried out together. _Na_ is used following the verb to form a preterit: _nia mae na_ he is dead. Finality is shown by the use of _sui_: _sui na_ it is all finished, _nia kafi dao sui na_ when he shall have arrived, _sui nana_ it is finished, _sui ta_ thereupon, after that. For the imperative the simple verb is used: _o lea amu_ go away; _fasi_ may be added for politeness: _lea fasi amu_ you go! 3. Negative Particles: The foregoing particles are not used in negative sentences. The negative particles are _langi_, _e langi_, _si_. These may be combined: _nia langi si saea_ he does not know it, _e langi mu si rongoa ma e langi mu si saea_ you have neither heard it nor seen it, _e langi nau gu si lea_ I am not going, _e langi uri ta ai e adasia_ no one has seen it, _e langi asia_ not at all. The verbal particle _ka_ may be used in negative sentences with the addition of _si_, _kasi bobola_ it is not fitting. The dehortative and the negative imperative is _fasia_: _fasia oko lea_ do not go! _fasia gera ka adasia_ let them not see it, _o fasia oko luia_ do not forbid it. Genitives: _ni_, _i_ are used to express purpose. 4. Suffixes to verbs: There are certain terminations which, when added to neuter verbs or to verbs active only in a general way, make them definitely transitive or determine their action upon some object. These are of two forms: a. A consonant with _i_: _fi_, _li_, _mi_, _ni_, _ngi_, _si_, or _i_ by itself; e.g. _tau_, _taufi_; _mae_, _maeli_: _ano_, _anomi_; _mou_, _mouni_; _sau_, _saungi_; _ada_, _adasi_; _manatat_, _manatai_; to the verb _taa_ to be bad, both _si_ and _li_ are added and the causative _fa_ is prefixed: _fataasi_, _fataali_, to make worse. Certain verbs which are active in Lau are neuter in Sa'a: _angai_ to lift, _angaia_ lift it, Sa'a _angainia_; _faodo_ to straighten, _faodoa_ straighten it, Sa'a _ha'aodohie_; _famae_ to kill, _famaea_, Sa'a _ha'amaesie_; _famou_ to frighten, _famoua_, Sa'a _ ha'ama'usie_. b. The termination _ai_ is suffixed by itself to nouns to convert them into verbs, _sato_, _satoai_. When this syllable _ai_ is suffixed to verbs the genitive _ni_ may be added, and to the form _aini_ the consonants f, m, ng, t, are prefixed: _oli_ to return, _olifaini_ to carry back, _ala_ to answer, _alamaini_ to consent, _sau_ to become, _saungaini_ to make, _tagala_ lost, _tagalangaini_ to drive out, _foaa_ to pray, _foaataini_ to pray for. The forms in _ai_ are also used intransitively: _tege_ to fall, _tegelai_ lost, _oli_ to turn, _olitai_ converted. The genitive _ni_ (cf. M. L., p. 532) is often omitted and is not invariably used as it is in Sa'a, since the form _ai_ without the addition of _ni_ is transitive: _gonitai_ to receive, _gwoutai_ or _gwoutaini_ to be left alone, _oalangai_ to apportion, _fatolamai_ to command. _Ani_ appears to be used by itself as a transitive suffix: _ui_ to throw, _uiani_ to throw away, _laga_ to drive, _lagaani_ to drive away, _taba_ to strike, _tabaani_ to destroy; _ani_ is used also with _too_ to hit, _tooani_ to understand. With either class of suffixes there is no difference in meaning between one suffix and another. 5. Prefixes to verbs: These are causative and reciprocal. The causative is _fa_: it may be prefixed to almost any word, and it may be used with words which have a transitive suffix. The use of _fa_ frequently obviates the use of a transitive suffix and of itself makes verbs transitive. The reciprocal is _qai_: generally when _qai_ is prefixed to a verb the action of the verb is enlarged and the subject is included. The illative _fe_ also marks repetition or restoration or continuance; it is followed by the adverb _lau_ again: _na abana e fe boeboela lau_ his hand was restored whole. 6. Passive: The passive is expressed by the use of the personal pronoun plural third _gera_ or _da_, with the verb and the adverb _na_ already: _gera taufia na_ it has been washed; _gera_ and _da_ are used impersonally. The word _saetana_ it is said, _sae_ to say, is used as a passive: _se doo saetana_ the thing said, _si baela ne saetana uri_ the word which was said. 7. Auxiliary verbs: _Alu_ to put, is used as meaning, to be, to become; _talae_, v. tr. to begin, means also to become; _sau_ to make, with the possessive _ana, sau ana_ to become. 8. Reflexive verb: The word _mara_ with suffixed pronoun is used to denote reflexive action: _nia saungia marana_. It also carries the meaning self, of one's own accord: _i bobongi ka manata tetea ana marana_ the morrow can take care of itself. 9. Reduplication: Verbs are reduplicated in two ways: (a) by reduplication of the first syllable: _liu_, _liliu_; _bae_, _babae_; (b) by repetition of the whole word: _gwou_, _gwougwou_. There is no difference between the various forms beyond an intensification in meaning. In the vocabulary the reduplicated form is presented under the entry of the stem. ADVERBS. There are pure adverbs in Lau, but many words used as adverbs are truly nouns and others are verbs; adjectives may also occur in this employment. 1. Adverbs of place: _mai_ here, hither; go there, thither, _ne_ may be added, gone, also _langi_ go, no. _Lo_ there, is compounded with _go_ and _gi_, _logo_ north, west; _se_ here, a noun, _i se_, _isena_, here, in this place, _gula_ place, a noun: _si gula na_ this place, here, _gula i maa_ outside. _bali_ side, a noun, _bali ne_ here, on this side; _i bali jordan i bali logo_ on the far side of Jordan; _ifai_ where, _gamu mai ifai_ whence are you? _tau_, a verb, far off: _alaa_ up, south, east, _ilangi_, _ifafo_, up. 2. Adverbs of time: _kada na_ (_ne_), _manga na_, now; _si manga, kademanga_, when, _i kademanga na_ (_ne_), at the time when; _i angita, si manga uta_, when? _inao_ of old, in the past; _ua mai inao_ from of old; _isingana ne_ henceforth: _alua fasi_, _taraina_, presently; _urii_ just now; _lau, _lau go_, again; _oli_ back; _na_, _ua na_, already; _ua_ yet, still, still left; _ua go i uarodo_ while still dark in the early morning; _ua mai ana lua_ from the flood, _toongi ua inao_ old clothes, _e langi ua_ not yet, still wanting; _firi_, _tefou_, always; _too ka tau_ forever; _suli dangifiri_ daily; _taraina_ to-day; _i rogi_ yesterday; _maaedangi i fafo_ day before yesterday; _bobongi_ to-morrow; _taraina lao rodo_ to-night; _talae_ first; _loulou_ quick; _aliali_ forthwith; _maasia_, _kade manga_, while. 3. Adverbs of manner: _alafana_ as, like, as if; _uri_, _uria_, _sae_, _saea_, that (of quotation); _uri_, _urina_, thus; _e uta_ how? _gele_ somewhat; _asia_ completely, too much; _saumala_ granted that; _falaete, mamaloni_, only; _ooni_ merely; _talai_ for no reason; _tefou_ together; _afui_ altogether (precedes verb); _boro_, _oto_, _otomone_, _tamone_, _bota ana_, perhaps; _mone_ gives life, _ba_ gives force, to the narrative; _ba_ also explains and makes the diction less abrupt; _tasa_, _tasaana_, too much; _faoroa_ often. PREPOSITIONS. 1. Simple prepositions. Locative, _i_. Motion to, _fua_, _isuli_, _suli_. Motion from, _fasi_, _ita_. Causation, _fafi_. Position, _fonosi_. Dative, _fua_. Instrumental, _ana_, _ani_. Relation, _ana_, _ani_, _fai_, _sai_, _usi_. Gentive, _ni_, _i_. The locative _i_ is seen in _ifai_ where; it is also largely used with adverbs of place and time and it precedes every name of place. With the exception of the locative, the instrumental, the genitive, and also _ana_, _ita_, _usi_, all the foregoing prepositions are used with a suffixed pronoun; _ita_ is used with the possessive. _Isuli_ denotes motion after, motion over: _sulia rodo ma na asua_ day and night, _manata suli_ to know. _Fafi_ means, about, concerning, because of, around, on: _gera ogu fafia_ they crowded round him, _nia alua abana fafia_ he laid his hand on him, _lau fafi_ to rescue, _fafi taa_ what about, why; _fuana_ in order that, _mae fuana_ to die to his disadvantage, _soe ledia fuana_ question him about it, _bae fuana_ forbid him, _fuana taa_ wherefore? Of the two instrumental prepositions _ana_ is the one in more general use, its meaning is with: _doo gera saungia ana_ the thing they killed him with. _Ana_ appears to denote the actual instrument, _ani_ the method of action; _ani_ may be translated withal. When the noun denoting the instrument is not preceded by an article or when the noun is used in a general sense, _ani_ is used in the place of _ana_: _suu fafia ani taa_ to clothe himself with what? _lea ani ola_ to go by canoe. The pronoun _a_ may be suffixed to _ani_; _tasi doo gera qaifamanatai ania_ the thing they taught withal; _ka modea na toongi ua inao ania_ to mend the old garment withal. _Ana_ also denotes at, in, place where, among: _luma ana foaa_ (_luma ni foaa_) a house of prayer, _kakao ana ano_ an earthen vessel, _nia liu ana ta maaedangi_ he went on a certain day, _tani ai ana aigi_ some of the people, _nia saea ana satana_ he called him by his name, _o ngalia ana ati_ from whom did you get it? _lea ana fera_ to go into the country. _Ani_ is used as meaning in, _e langi ani nau_ there is nothing in me, _gera ote gera ani nau_ they will have nothing to do with me. _Fai_ means with: _faioe_ with thee, _qaimani fai_ to help, _oko gaimani fainau_ you help me. The genitive _ni_ may be added, _lea fainia_ go with him; _fainia_ moreover, and. _Sia_ means at, at home, and always has the suffixed pronoun. By the ordinary Melanesian idiom place at comes to be used of motion to: _siagamelu chez nous_, _siena ere_ beside the fire, _lea mai siegu_ come here to me. _Usi_ means over, on behalf of, for: _gera ngisu usia_ they spat on him, _na captain usia na too_ a captain over the people, _na taba olisia usia na aigi_ a redemption for the people. The genitives have been dealt with under nouns: _i_ is in most general use, both are used to express purpose, and _ni_ also denotes for, belonging to: _fasia muka manata ni bae uri_ think not to say thus, _gera mou ni oli_ they feared to return, _ka ote nia ni rosuli_ he is tired of obeying. 2. Compound prepositions. Some of these are nouns used with the locative; the pronoun is suffixed as the actual object or as the anticipatory object when a noun follows: _i fafo_ above, _i fara_ beneath, _i lao_ within. The locative need not be used with _lao_: _lao rodo_ in the night, _lao tala_ in the path, _lao salo_ in the sky. Some are constructed from verbal nouns to which the suffixed pronoun is always added: _fonosia_ in front of him, _nia initoo fonosi gera_ he ruled over them, _fonosi taa_ to meet what? for what purpose? Certain verbs are used as prepositions: _maasi_ to await, _garangi_ to be near. CONJUNCTIONS. Copulative, _ma_. Adversative, _ta_, _ma ta_ Connective, _ta_. Disjunctive, _langi_, _langi fa_, _ma langi_, _ma ka langi_. Conditional, _ana_, _ma ana_, _saea_. Illative, _fi fe_. A mark of quotation is _saea_, _uri_. Neither, nor, is expressed by a negative followed by _ma_. Until is _dao ana_, _lea dao ana_. NUMERALS. The numerical system is decimal. All numbers over the tens are expressed in tens. 1. Cardinals. 1. _eta_, _ta_, _te_. 2. _e rua_, _ro_. 3. _e olu_. 4. _e fai_. 5. _e lima_. 6. _e ono_. 7. _e qalu_. 8. _e fiu_. 9. _e siqa_. 10. _e tangafulu_, _aqala_. In numbers other than _eta_ the initial _e_ is omitted in quick counting. In composition one is _ta_, two is _ro_, _te_ generally means only: _rua_ is reduplicated into _ruarua_, _tau ruarua_ equidistant. The prefix _too_ forms distributives: _too ro doo_ two things at a time. _Nima_ is used as well as _lima_ for five. Though _qalu_ eight, appears in the translations as used of an indefinite number it is doubtful whether such use is correct. _Tangafulu_ is the tenth of a series; _aqala_ is used for ten denoting a unit, _aqala fono_ a full ten. To express units above ten _mana_ is employed: _aqala mana fai_ fourteen. One hundred is _tangalau_: _tangale doo_ one hundred things. The sum above the hundred is expressed by _mana_: _tangalau fai aqala mana fai_ one hundred and forty-four. One thousand is _too_. 2. Ordinals. The cardinals with a substantival ending _na_ form ordinals. First, _etana_. Fourth, _faina_. Seventh, _fiuna_. Second, _ruana_. Fifth, _limana_. Eighth, _qaluna_. Third, _oluna_. Sixth, _onona_. Ninth, _siqana_. Ordinals precede the noun: _ruana na mwane_ the second man. Ordinals are used to express the number of times: _eruana lau nia lea go_ he went away the second time. _Ruana_ also means fellow: _na ruana gera_ their fellows. Tenth is expressed by _tangafulu ana_: _aqala maaedangi mana ruana_ the twelfth day, _tangalau ro aqala mana etana_ one hundred and twenty-first. _Efita_ how many, is used with the substantival termination _na_: _efitana_ what number? 3. Multiplicatives. The article _fe_ is employed to form multiplicatives: _guka fai fe olila_ I shall return four times, _sasigu ka fita fe ode doo taala fuagu_ how often shall my brother harm me? _tafe_ once. The causative _fa_ does not make multiplicatives except in the case of _faoroa_ often. EXCLAMATIONS. _Iu_, _iuka_, assent. _Oto mone_ is that so? _Ne_ is used in questions, _ati ne satamu_ what is your name? _na mwela a Joseph e langi ne_ Is He not the son of Joseph? _Aia_ sums up, so there, well then! _Oimae_ alas! The noun _ai_, person, is added to proper names to call attention, _Joe ai_ hey, Joe! LAU VOCABULARY A. _a_ 1, personal article: used with the names of males, both native and foreign, _a Masuraa_, _a Luke_; is used also with _doo_, thing, _a doo_ So-and-So, _a doo na_, the person; is seen also in _ati_ who? In usage it corresponds to the _i_ of Mota and Malagasy. Cf. S. _a_. _a_ 2, termination of the verbal noun: attached to verb, _angi_ to cry, _angia_ a cry, _fanga_ to eat, _fangaa_ a feast; added to compounds _girigiri lifoa_, gnashing of teeth. _a_ 3, pers. pron. sing. 3. suffixed to verbs as object, and to prepositions as anticipatory object and used both of persons and things: him, her, it. S. _a_. _a_ 4, stem to which the pronouns _gu_, _mu_, _na_, etc. are suffixed in forming the possessive. S. _a_. _a_ 5, prefix of condition making participles: _luga_ to loose, _aluga_ loosened. S. _'a_. _a_ 6, adj. term, suffixed to nouns and verbs _rodo_, night, _rorodoa_, belonging to darkness, _bulu_, to be black, _bubulua_, black. S. _a_. _a_ 7, exclam. negative; don't _aba_ (_gu_) n., hand, arm, part, leaf: _fuli abae ai_, men's handiwork. S. _apa_. _abaa_ n., staff. S. _apaa_. _abalolo_ a banyan tree. S. _'apalolo_. _abasua_ adj. afraid of, silent out of respect for a person. _abatoo_ v, i. to be barren, of women. _abolo_ n., a piece: _abole ai_, a beam. S. _polo_. _abu_ (_gu_) n., blood: _abu rakaraka_, an issue of blood. S._'apu_. _abua_ adj., red. _abu_ 2. v. i. to be forbidden, taboo: _abu rongo_, to be unwilling to hear. S. _'apu_. _abulo_ partic., turned round: _abulo fasi_, to face towards, _abuloa_ v. n. a turning round. S. _apulo_. _abusu_ v. i. to be filled, satiated. _abusua_ v. n. satiety. _ada_ 1. v. i. to see, to awake. _ada filo_ to perceive; _ada fua_, to choose; _ada sae tamana_, to recognize; _ada_ too, to succeed in finding. _adala_, v. n. sight, seeing. _adasi_, v. tr. to see. _faada_. _ada_ 2. poss. pl. 3, among them, for them, for their part, theirs (of things to eat), used also as obj. to neut. verb; _tani aiai ada_, some of them. S._'ada_. _Adagege_ artificial islet next to Ferasubua going north. _adalu_ poss. pl. 3, as _ada_, but more restricted in application. _adaro_ poss. dual. 3. Cf. _ada_ 2. _ade_ v. tr. to do, to make; of disease, to be prostrated by _si maea e adea_, he was sick; _ade au_, to play on a bamboo flute; _ade doo_, to worship; _ade doola_, worship. _adi_ v. tr. to taboo, to place one's mark upon, S. _adi_. _ado_, _adomi_, v. tr. to serve, to wait upon, to furnish with food, to worship. _ae_ (_gu_) 1. n. foot, leg; _lado ae_, to follow; _aena_, because of, _aena falisi_, lord of the garden; _ae i fera_, a householder; _ae mwane_, chief man. S._'ae_. _ae_ 2. exclam. ah!; used also in summing up. _afa_ 1. v. i. to cut, to incise, to mark by cutting. S. _aha_. _afa_ 2. an eagle. S. _hada_. _afe_ 1. woman, wife; _si afe nau_, my wife. _afe_ 2. v. tr. to direct, to guide, S. _'ahe_. _afe_, _afeafe_ 3. n. foam, waves; _na afe_, surf. S. _ahe_. _afedali_; _matai afedali_, to be in a fever. S. _madali_, wet with perspiration. _afetai_ partic., difficult; _bae afetai_, to take an oath. _afoa_ partic. apart, separate. S. _ahoa_. _afu_ v. tr. to wrap up, to hide. S. _ahu_. _afui_ partic. precedes verb, altogether. S. _ahu'i_ 4. _afuta-_ (_gu_) n. all; _afutana_, all of it; _afutagamere_, both of us. S._ahuta_. _aga_ poss. pl. 1. among us, for us, for our part, ours (of things to eat), used also as obj. with neuter verbs. S. _aka_. _agalimae_ a spirit, a ghost. _agalo_ a ghost; _qaife agalo_, a witch doctor. S._'akalo_. _agamelu_ poss. pl. 1. excl. for us, for our part, among us, us (obj). _agamere_ poss. dual, excl. for us two, among us two, us two (obj.) _agamolu_ poss. pl. 2. for you, among you, you (obj.). _agamere_ poss. dual, excl. for us two, among us two, us two (obj.). _agamolu_ poss. pl. 2. for you, among you, you (obj.). _agamu_ poss. pl. 2. for you, among you, for your part, you (obj.); _ati mwane agamu_, what man among you? _agani_ v. tr. to pluck out. S. _akani_. _agau_ to be ready. S. _akau_. _age_; _age reresi_, a lily. _Crinum asiaticum_. _agera_ poss. pl. 3. for them, among them, them (obj.). _ago_, _agoago_, 1. v. i. to be hot, to shrivel up; _manata agoago_, to be zealous; 2. n. _si agoago_ heat. _agofi_ v. tr. to cause to be hot. _agolu_ poss. pl. 1. more restricted in meaning than _aga_. _agoro_ poss. dual. 1. incl. for us two, of us two, us two (obj.). _agu_ poss. sing. 1. for me, for my part, me (obj.). _ai_, _aiai_, 1. n. a person, kindred, you (voc.) _Joe, ai_, I say, Joe! _mwela ai_, Hey, you! _ai ana fera nau_, my neighbour; _ai salaa_, a stranger; _James ai tou_, James the Less; _ogule ai_, a company; _too te ai_, a few; _te ai gone_, only one, _aiai_ is used as a relative pronoun, the one, that, or as a plural, _tani aiai_, everybody; _tani fufue aiai_, some seeds. Compounded with _sai_; _saiai ne_, that which. Mota _gai_. _ai_ 2. n. a tree; _ai rarafolo_, a cross. S. _ai_. _ai_ 3. _ai lado_, to graft. _ai_ 4. trans. suffix to verb; _sato_, _satoai_. _aia_ 1. sister, female relations; used with art. _ni_ for sing., _ote_ for pl. _aia_ 2. exclam. Hey! well then! _aini_ trans. suffix to verb. S. _aini_. _ainitalongaini_ v. tr. to proclaim. S. _talonga'ini_. _ala_ 1. v. i. to answer; _alagwau_, to nod the head in affirmation. _alamai_ v. i. to answer. _alamaini_ v. tr. to obey, to take notice of. S. _ala_. _ala_ 2. v. tr. to bite; _ala meme_, to bite and rend; _ala tagalaa_, to feed promiscuously (of animals). S. _ala_. _ala_, _alaala_ 3. v. i. to set a net; _ala fafi_, to surround, to catch. _alasi_ v. tr. to lie in wait for. S. _ala_. _alaa_ adv. up; of direction, southeast S. _'ala'a_. _alafana_ adv. like, just as. Cf. S. _alihana_. _alange_; _alange gwou_, to nod the head in affirmation. _ala_. 1. _aliali_ forthwith. _aliburi_ (_na_) v. tr. to shorten, curtail. _alida_ v. i. to journey by sea. S. _alide_. _alidea_ v. n. _alifii_ v. tr. to lament. _alifooa_ n. blood money. _alinga_ (_gu_) n. ear; _alinga bungu_, deaf. S. _'alinge_. _alitafu_ n. a dung heap, refuse. S. _alitehu_. _alofi_ v. tr. to shake off. _alu_ v. tr. to put, bury; v. i. to become; _alu ere ana_, to burn; _alu mwela_, to have children; _salo e alu maraqai_, the sky is red; _alu fafola_, addition, increase. U. _'alu_. _alua_, dehortative, no! don't! _alua fasi_, wait a while! _alula_ v. n. putting, becoming. _alualu_ v. i. _bae alualu_, to promise. _aluga_ partic. unloosed. _luga_. _amu_ 1. poss. sing. 2. for thee, thee (obj.). _gera soea amu_, they asked it of thee. S. _amu_. _amu_ 2. v i. to be dumb; a _amu_, the deaf mute. S. _amumu_. _ana_ 1. poss. sing. 3. for him, her, it; used also as obj. _e soea ana_, he asked him for it; _e lea ana_, he went on his way; _e ita ana mai_, from there; _qaifamanatai ana too_, a teacher of the people; _e baita tasaana_, bigger than it; _bota ana_, perhaps. S. _ana_. _ana_ 2. instrumental, with, therewithal; _doo gera saungia ana_, the thing they killed him with. S. _ana_. _ana_ 3. belonging to, from, him, her, it; _o ngalia ana ati_, from whom did you get it? _tani ai ana aigi_, some of the people. S. _ana_. _ana_ 4. time when; _ana ta maedangi_, on a certain day; _ana koburo_, in the time of the northwest wind, summer. S. _ana_. _ana_ 5. after, by the name of; _e saea lau ana satana_, he called him by his name. S. _ana_. _ana_ 6. of, belonging to; used in composition; _kakao ana ano_, an earthen vessel; _lea ana fera_, to go to another country. _ana_ 7. if, for, when, because, used of subjunctive. _ana_ 8. _tangafulu ana_, tenth in a series. S. _ana_ 8 _ani_ 1. v. tr. to eat. Mota _gana_; Florida _gani_. _anila_, v.n. eating. _ani_ 2. instrumental, with; _suu fafia ani taa_, clothed with what? the pronoun a may be added, _ka modea na toongi ua inao ania_, to mend the old garment withal; _liona kafi too ania_, his heart shall be glad thereat. S. _ani_. _ani_ 3. prep. concerning, in; _e langi ani nau_, there is nothing in me; _gera ote gera ani nau_, they will have nothing of me. S. _ani_. _ani_ 4. poss. pl. 3, used of things only, for them; _na doo da soi amu ani_, the things which they asked you for. S. _ani_. _ani_ 5. v. suff.; _ui_, to throw, _uiani_ v. tr., to throw a thing. _aniramo_, v. tr., to do violence to. _ramo_. _ano_ 1. n., earth; _si ano lofo_, dust. S. _'ano_. Cf. _gano_. _anomi_ v. tr., to bury. _iano_ on the ground, down. _ano_ 2. v. i., to come to naught. S. _'ano_ 2. _angai_ v. tr., to lift, to carry. S. _anga'i_. _angi_ v. i., to cry. _angisi_ v. tr., to cry over. Mota _tang_. _angia_, _angila_ v. n., a cry, crying. _angita_ adv. with loc. i, i _angita_, when? bye and bye. Mota _angaisa_. _anu_, _anuanu_ v. i., to be shaken, to be loose. S. _anu_. _ao_ v. i., _ao maa ilengi_, to lift the eyes, to look up. S. _aonga'i_. _aqaa_ v. i., to be well, whole, convalescent. S. _awaa_. _aqala_ 1. n. a ten, a tally; _aqale mwai_, ten baskets. _aqala_ (_na_) 2. n., its noise, the sound of it. S. _awa_ 2. _aqaoro_ v. i., to stoop. S. _aqa oro_. _arabuu_ v. i., to reach, arrive at. S. _arapuu_. _arai_ 1. n., husband; _arai faalu_, bridegroom; _arai na luma_, master of the house. _arai_ 2. n., a chief; _inite arai_, the elders. _arenga-_ (_gu_) n., part, duty. S. _arenga_. _ariabasi_ v. i., to strive, endeavor, attempt. S. _lapasi_. _ariri_ v. i., to be shaken. S. _ariri_. _aro_ v. i., to soar. S. _aro_. _asi_ 1. n., the sea, salt water, salt; i _toulana asi_, on the surface of the sea; _asi namo_, a lake; _busu asi_, a whale. S. _'asi_. _asi_ 2. man's brother, woman's sister; used only with art. _mwai_; _mwai asi_, brethren. Cf. _sasi_. S. _'asi_. _asi_ 3. v. tr., to cast away, to fall down; _daro langi si asidaro laona kilu_, shall they not both fall into the ditch? _asia_ 1. adj., scattered; 2. adv., much, excessive, very; _tou asia na_, very lowly; _elangi asia_, far from it, by no means. S. _'asi'a_. _asua_ n. daylight, daytime; _fe asua_, a day. S. _atowa_. _asufe_ n., a rat. S. _'asuhe_. _ati_ interrog. pron. sing, who, pl. _gerati_; _ati gera_, who among them? _ati susulia_, who knows? (I can't say); _doo ati_, whose thing, who owns it? _ati satana_, what (who) is his name? S. _atei_. _ato_ 1. v. i., to be in motion; _ato buri_, with poss., to turn the back on; _ato folo_, to cross over; _lua e ato fafigera_, the flood came upon them; _ato ae_, to move quickly, to hurry. S. _ato_ 1. _ato_ 2. v. i., to be difficult. _au_ n., the bamboo, flute; musical instrument. S. _au_ 3. _auau_; _ngidu auau_, to hate. B _ba_ adv., gives force, explains, makes the diction less abrupt; _ai ba_, who then? _a doo ba_, why so-and-so; _go_ may be added, _a doo_ _bago_, the man there. _babala_ n., a tempest; _babalai tolo_, a hurricane. _babali_ (_gu_) n., cheek. Cf. _bali_. S. _papali_. _babara_ (_gu_) n., side (of persons only), loins. S. _parapara_. _babaranga_ n., a draught, shoal, of fish; _babarangai ia_, a shoal of fish. _babataini_ v. tr., to throw down, break by throwing down, overthrow. S. _papa_. _bae_, _babae_ v. tr., to speak, to say; _bae fua_, to rebuke. _baea_, v. n., word; _si baea_, a word; _a si baea_, The Word. _baela_ (_gu_) v. n., word, the act of speaking; _si baela nana_, that word. _baita_ big, loud, to grow big; _manata baita ana_, to love a person; _mala baita_, Big Malaita. It is worth notice that the last three letters of _baita_, viz, _ita_, are those which the Spaniards, the original discoverers of Malaita, added to the name _mala_, by which Malaita is known to the natives of those parts. The part of the island which the Spaniards saw and named is called by its inhabitants _mala baita_, and it is conceivable that the _ba_ of _baita_ may have been lost in transcription. S. _paine_, Alite _baita_. The root is probably _bai_, and _ta_ a verbal suffix. _balafe_ v. tr., to thank, to praise. S. _paalahe_. _balafela_ v. n., praise, thanksgiving. _balala_, _bala_ v. i., used with _fafi_; _balala fafi_, to despise. _bali_ n., part, side, of position; _ita bali logo_, from over there; _i bali jordan i bali logo_, from the other side of the Jordan; _te bali babali_, one cheek; _te bali maa_, one eye; Cf. _babali_. S. _papali_, cheek. _bara_ n., a fence, gate, wall, courtyard; _gule bara_, family (tribe). S. _para_. _baraa_ n., a feast. _baru_ n., a large sea-going canoe, ship (late use). _bata_ n., shell money. S. _haa_. _bebe_ n., moth, butterfly. S. _pepe_. _bele_ v. i., by mischance, by mistake, in error, of no avail. _belengaini_ v. tr., to do a thing by mischance, in error. S. _pele_. _beli_, _belibeli_ v. tr., to steal, to rob, to steal from a person. _belila_ v. n., theft. S. _peli_. _beu_ n., a chamber in a house; _kade beu_, inner chamber. _bibii_ n., mud. S. _qiqi_. _bibisu_ n., shiny starling, _callornis metallica_. s. _pipisu_. _bibiu_, _mwela bibiu_, a baby, an infant. ?Mota _piopio_. _bilage_ v. tr., to shut; _bilage maa_, to shut the door. _bili_; _fabili_, to make dirty. _bilia_ adj., dirty, unclean. _bilili_ v. tr., to press upon, weigh down. S. _pilingi_. _bilingi_ v. tr., to press down. _binaae_ v. i., to shine, of sun. _binisi_ v. tr., to bind. _bito_ 1. v. i., to sprout, to shoot, to begin to grow; 2. n. a sprout; _bitona e bito_, it sprouted. S. _qito_. _bobola_ to be fitting, meet. _bobongi_ with loc. i, i _bobongi_, tomorrow. Mota _qong_. _boe_ v. i., to be whole, big. _boeboela_ adj., whole, sound, fat, well. _bokosi_ v. tr., to hinder. _bola_ n., a pigeon, _carpophaga rufigula_. Florida _bola_. _bole_; _teo bole_, to dream; _Teo bolea_, _teo bolela_, a dream. S. _qole_, Mota _qore_. _bona_ v. i., to cease speaking, to be silent. _bono_ v. i., to close a hole; _toongi bono maa_, sackcloth. S. _pono_. _bongara_, _bongangara_, v. i., to succor, nourish; _bongara fonosi_, to oppose. _bongi_; 1. _too bongi_, to be sad of face. _bongi_; 2. _dau bongi_, to take hold of. _boro_ 1. (_na_, _ni_), _borona aena_, heel. _boro_ 2. adv., perhaps, probably, possibly. _boro_ 3. v. i., _boro tafa_, to emerge, come out from. S. _pola_. _boso_ n., a pig. Bugotu, _botho_, Florida, _bolo_, New Guinea, _boro_. _bota_ used with poss., blessed, to receive a thing gratis, to be well provided with; _bota ana_, haply. _fabota_ v. tr., to be of assistance to. _bouruuru_ v. i., to fall down, to kneel down. _bouruurula_ v. n. S. _pouruuru_. _bubu_ v. i., to look; _bubu tete adalu_, to look earnestly at them. _bubungi_ v. tr., to look at. _bubulu_ n., a star; _fe bubulu_, a star; a bottle (late use). _bubulua_ adj., black. S. _pulupulu'e_. _bubungi_; _bubungi luma_, a village. S. _pungu_. _bukonu_ v. i., to be grieved; _lio bukonu_, to be sad of heart. _bulo_, _bulobulo_ v. i. to turn; _afe bulobulo_, a tide rip. S. _pulo_. _bulu_ n., gall. S. _pulu_. _bungu_ 1. a shell trumpet; _ufi bungu_, to blow the trumpet. _bungu_ 2. v. i., to be deaf; _alinga bungu_, deaf. S. _pungu_. _buri_ (_gu_) n., back, stern, behind, after, of persons, _buri mwane_, second son. _burina_ after that; _i burimu_, in your absence. S. _puri_. _buro_; _lio buro_, _manata buro_, to forget. S. _pu'o_. _burosi_ v. tr., _burosi lio_, to keep in doubt. S. _mahuro_. _buroburo_ v. i., to bubble, to spring up, of water. S. _hure'i_. _buru_ v. i., to be narrow; _tala e buru_, narrow is the way. _buruburu_ v. i., to be frequent; adv. frequently. S. _puru_. _busu_ v. i., to squirt, to eject spray; _busu asi_, a whale. S. _pusu_. D There is no sound of n in the d. The pronunciation of d in Lau is much the same as that of d in English. _da_ 1. pers. pron. pl. 3. they; used by itself as subject, or follows _igera_; _igera da ada_, they saw. _da_ 2. pers. pron. sing. 3. suffixed to verb and to prepositions as an anticipatory object, them. _dada_ v, i.; _dada fafi_, to leave undone; to pass over. _dadaola_, _daodaola_ adj., tired; _noni daodaola_, weary. _dafi_ n., the golden lip pearl shell, a pearl; _fufue dafi_, pearls. S. _dahi_. _dalafa_ v. tr., to strike against, to hit. _dali_ v. i., to tread upon; _uri dali_, to tread under foot. S. _pulisi_. _dalu_ 1. pers. pron. trial 3. they; used by itself as subj., or follows _idalu_. _dalu_ 2. pers. pron., trial 3. suffixed to verbs, and prepositions, as object, and to prepositions as an anticipatory object, and used of persons only, them. _daluma_ (_gu_) n., middle, in the midst of; used with loc. _i_. S. _danume_. _dangi_ n., day, e _dangi na_, it is daylight; _dangiliu_, brightness, glory; _maaedangi_, a day; _suli dangifiri_, daily. S. _dangi_. _dadangi_ v. i., to be daylight. _dao_ v. i., to arrive; _rodo fi dao_, till nightfall; _dao ana_, until. S._dao_. _dara_ (_gu_) n., forehead. S. _dara_. _daraa_ n., a young man; _maa ni daraa_, a young man. _dari_ n., a valley, a creek. S. _da'iderie_. _daro_ 1. pers. pron. dual 3. they two; used by itself as subj. or follows _idaro_. _daro_ 2. pers. pron. dual 3. suffixed to verbs and prepositions as object, or to prep, as an anticipatory object, the two of them. _darongai_ v. tr., to scatter, cause to disperse. S. _daro'i_ _dasa_ n., fog, mist. _dau_, _dadau_ v. i., to hold, catch, take, touch; used with poss.; _dau agu_, touch me; _dau toogu_, meet me. S. _dau_. 1. _daula_ v. n., holding, touching. _dedengi_ v. tr., to pour out. S. _dede'i_. _dee_, _deedee_ v. tr., to catch fish; _mwane deedee_, a fisherman. _deela_ v. n., _dee ana deela_, to fish. _didi_ v. tr., to carve, to grave. S. _didi_ 2. _diena_ adj., good, proper, accurate, beloved; _lio diena fafi_, to delight in, to love. _dienala_ v. n. U. _diena_. _dila_ v. i., to jump down. S. _dile_. _dingalu_; _dui dingalu_, completely finished. _dodoria_ adj., clear, open, of path. _dole_ v. i., to delay, to be a long time. _dolofi_ v. tr., to rub in the hands. _donga_ v. i., to spread, to circulate. _dongaa_ adj., consecutive. S. _donga_ 2. _doo_ n., thing; the noun ending may be added; with the personal article, _a doo_, the person, so-and-so, such an one; _ni doo ne_, the woman, woman (Voc.); _doo mamana_, truly; _ade doo_, to worship; _dooa_, _doola_ v. n., _saitama dooa_, wisdom; _ade doola_, worship; cf. S. _ola_. _dori_ v. tr., to wish for, desire, love. _dudu_ v. i., to move position; _dudu mai_, come hither; _dudu oli_, to retire. U. _dudu_. _dumuli_ v. tr., to lay hold of. _duqe_ v. tr., to split, burst, wound; _too duqe_, to cause to burst open; _ofu duqe_, to burst. _duu_ v. tr., to visit upon, punish, repay, _qaiduu_, to revenge. _duulana_, with loc. _i_, _i duulana_, because of. _duula_ v. n., recompense. E _e_. 1. used to make a construct form, added to the first of two nouns, _fuli abae ai_, man's handiwork; _toloe fera_, a hill; when the first noun ends in _a_, _ae_ is contracted into _e_, _aqale mwae_, ten bags; _fufue ai_, seed; when the first noun ends in _o_, the _oe_ is contracted into _e_; _abolo_, piece, _abole ai_, log. Cf. Mota, construct form of nouns, where the ending of the first noun may be altered to _e_. _e_. 2. pers. pron. sing. 3. he, she, it, used to precede _nia_ when the meaning is, there is, it is: _na liqa gera enia ada_, they have their holes; _ma te ai enia i luma_, there is only one person in the house; generally used of the neuter; _e langi_, no, not; _e langi ana_, it is lost; _e langi o si sulu isulia_, you must not follow him; _e sui na_, it is finished; _e uta_, how? S. _e_. e. 3. v. p., used with numerals and with _fita_; _e rua_. two; _e fita_, how many? S. _e_. _eela_ adj., lazy; _noni eela_, lazy. _eelenga_ (_na_) n., the end of, its end. _eeo_ v. i., to be crooked. _ele_ v. i., to desire, used with _uri_; _ele uria_, desirous of it. _elela_ v. n., rejoicing. _elea_ adj., joyfully. _eli_, _elieli_ v. tr., to dig. _elila_ v. n., digging. S. _eli_. _enia_ pers. pro. sing. 3. he, she, it; _enia naane_, that is so; _gele mwela enia ada_, the small child (he) was with them. Cf. _e_. 2. _eqetaini_ v. tr., to remit, forego. _ere_ 1. n., fire; _alu ere ana_, to set fire to; _si ere_, a firestick. _ere_ 2. v. tr., to plait. _ereere_ v. tr., used as prep., round about. _ereila_ adj., round in shape. S. _ere_. _erisi_ v. tr., to dispatch, send. _qaierisi_. _eta_ numeral, one; _eta inao fua_, to be in front of, to lead. _etana_, ordinal, first, the first time. S. _eta_. F _fa_. 1. causative prefix, applied to verbs and less frequently to nouns, e. g., _famwaela_. S. _ha'a_. _fa_. 2. termination of verbal nouns: _mae_, to die, _maemaefa_, sickness; _otofa-_, concerning, _oofa-_, approaching, are always followed by the suffixed pronoun. S. _ha_. _faabu_ v. tr., to forbid. S. _'abu_. _faabua_ v. n., an oath. _faabusu_ v. tr., to fill, satiate with food. _faada_ v. tr., to cause to see, to awaken. _ada_. _faado_ v. tr., to apportion. S. _ado_. _faalamaini_ v. tr., to entrust, to permit. _alamai_. _faalu_, _faolu_, adj., new, fresh, recent; _arai faolu_, bridegroom. S. _haalu_. _fabaita_ v. tr., to make big, to magnify oneself. _baita_. _fabili_ v. tr., to make dirty, to defile. _bili_. _fabona_ v. tr., to appease, to cause to be quiet. _bona_. _fabota_ v. tr., to be of assistance to. _bota_. _fabulosi_ v. tr., to cause to turn, to turn over. _bulo_. _fadole_ v. tr., to be a debtor to. _fafanafi_ v. tr., to covet. _fana_. _fafanga_ v. tr., to feed. _fanga_. _fafaraasia_ adj., tasteless. _fafi_ 1. v. tr., to help; _dau fafi_, to help, to surround; 2. prep, concerning, causation; _fafia_, because of. S. _haahi_. _fafo_ (_gu_) n., above, over, used with locative i., i _fafona_, in addition, on top of it. _fafola_ v. n., _alu fafola_, addition. S. _haho_. _fafolali_ v. tr., to illuminate. _fola_. _fafolifoli_ v. tr., to signify, to explain. _folifoli_. _fafou_ v. tr., to proclaim. _fou_. _fafunu_ v. tr., to destroy, to cause to end. _funu_. _fafungu_ v. tr., to fill, _fungu_. _fafurongo_ n., a disciple, _rongo_. _fafuta_ v. tr., to generate, to beget; said of both parents. _fafutala_ v. n., a generation, _futa_. _fafuu_ used with possessive _ana_; _fafuuana_, real. _fuu_. _faga_ (_gu_) n., mouth. Niue _fangai_, to feed; Mota _wanga_, to gape; S. _awanganga_, to gape. _fagaro_ v. tr., to deceive, to cause to stray. _garo_. _fagwau_ v. tr., to make desolate. _gwau_. _fagwoufi_ v. tr., to give drink to. _gwou_. _fagwourufi_ v. tr., to cause to sit down. _gwouru_. _fai_ 1. v. tr., used as prep., with, to help; _fai oe_, with thee. _faini_ v. tr., to help, to companion with; _fainia_, moreover. _fai_ 2. adv., where? used with locative i, or with prefix _ni_; _ifai_, _nifai_. U. _hei_. _fai_ 3. pref. to verb; _buri_, behind, _faiburi_, to leave behind; _faigwa_, to spill. _fai_ 4. numeral, four, _faina_, ordinal, fourth, the fourth time. _faiburi_ used with poss., to leave behind, _fa_ 1. _faigwa_ v. tr., to spill, to shed. _fakukule_ v. tr., to cause to hang down. _fakulufi_ v. tr., to let sink, to lower, _kulu_. _falaete_ adv., only. S. _hali'ite_. _falangi_ 1. n., a house on piles. S. _ha'alangi_. _langi_ 2. _falangi_ 2. v. tr., to bring to nothing, to destroy. _langi_ 1. _falauni_ v. tr., to decorate, to adorn, _launi_. _fale_ v. tr., to give; _fale aba fafi_, to lay hands on. _falela_ v. n., a gift. _fali_, _fafali_ v.i., to walk, tread; _fali folo_, to turn aside. S. _palili_. _falisi_ n., garden, crop, season, year. S. _ha'lisi_. _falooi_ v. tr., to torment, treat shamefully. _loo_. _famae_ 1. v. tr., to kill. _mae_. _famaesi_ v. tr. _famae_ 2. v. tr., to quench. _mae_. _famafo_ v. tr., to heal a sore. _mafo_. _famamana_ v. tr., to establish, to make true. _mamana_. _famanatai_ v. tr., to instruct, teach. _manatai_. _famou_ used with poss., to warn, terrify, hold in honor. _mou_. _famwaela_ used with poss., to laugh at. _mwaela_. _fanau_ v. tr., to teach, educate. S. _ha'ananau_. _fana_ v. i., to shoot. S. _hana_. _fanasi_ v. tr., to shoot, to covet. _fanina_ v. tr., to be wont, to accustom. _fanonifi_ v. tr., to torment. _noni_. _fanualama_ n., peace. S. _hanualama_. _fanga_ v. tr., to eat, to bite (of fish); _toli fanga_, to fast, abstain from. _fangaa_ v. n., a feast. _fangala_ v. n., food; _ade fangala_, to make a feast. _fangado_ v. tr., to make strong; _fangado rage_, to comfort. _ngado_. _fangasi_ v. tr., to harden. _fao_, _faofao_ v. tr., to weave, to plait. S. _hao_. _faolo_ v. tr., to make straight. _faolofi_ v. tr., to make straight, to justify (late use). _faolu_ adj., new, recent, fresh. U. _ha'olu_. _faorai_ v. i., to plot, take counsel, consult, talk together. _faoro_ v. tr., to multiply. _faoroa_ adj., often. _oro_. _faqaqaoa_ v. tr., to make clean. _qaqaoa_. _faqaqari_ v. tr., _faqaqari lio_, to comfort. _fara_ (_gu_) n., beneath; with locative _i_, _i farana_, on the earth. _fararao_ v. tr., to cause to stick. _rarao_. _farifari_ n., a scorpion. S. _hariheri_. _farodo_ v. tr., to darken; _farodo maa_, to blind the eyes. _rodo_. _fasaa_; _fasaa fua_, to curse; _bae fasaa ana_, to curse anyone. _fasi_ (_nau_) 1. prep., from, motion from. _fasi_ 2. adv., a while; makes the diction less abrupt; _o lea fasi_, please go; _alua fasi_, put it aside, i.e., wait a while, presently. _fasi_ 3. v. tr., to sow, to plant. S. _hasi_. _fasia_ dehortative, don't! _fasia oko lea go_, do not go; _o fasia oko luia lau_, do not forbid it any more. _fasi_ 2. _fasifa_ v. tr., to sell, to hire. _fasifala_ v. n., price, hire. _sifa_. _fasui_ v. tr., to finish; _fasui lio_, to satisfy the mind. _sui_. _fasusu_ v. tr., to give suck to. _susu_. _fataali_ v. tr., to do harm to, to spoil. _taa_. _fatai_ partic., out, clear. _fataia_ v. n., a manifestation. S. _ha'atai_. _fatake_, _fatakesi_ v. v. tr., to cause to stand, to set up; _fatake qaimani_, to be a peacemaker. _take_. _fataofai_ v. tr., to cause to stumble, to offend (late use). _taofai_. _fatau_ v. tr., to cause to be far off. S. _ha'atau_. _fatemaea_ n., a wonder, a miracle; _si fatemaea_. _fateofi_ v. tr., to cause to lie down, to put to sleep. _teo_. _fateqa_ v. tr., to lengthen. _teqa_. _fatona_ v. tr., to cause amazement to. _fatou_ v. tr., to humble. _tou_. _fe_ 1. article, a; used of things spherical in shape; _fe bread_, a loaf; _fe bubulu_, a star; _fe gale bola_, a young pigeon; _fe kakarai kua_, a hen's egg; _fe rade_, a reed; _na_ or _ta_, or _te_, may precede; _fe uo_, a hill; _tefuana ta fe uo_, every hill; _na fe uo_, a hill; _te fe mwela matala_, an only son; used of one of a series; _fe asua_, a day; _fe rodo_, a night; used as a multiplicative; _ro fe angia_, two cryings; _fita fe ade doo taa fuagu_, how many sinnings against me? Cf. _qe_. _fe_ 2. (a) marks repetition or restoration or continuance; is accompanied by adv. _lau_, again; _na abana e fe boeboela lau_, his hand was restored whole; _daro fe lea lau go_, they two went on; (b) used as an illative, in that case, following upon. S. _hei_. _fera_ n., land, village, habitation; _fera fu_, heritage; _fera gwou_, a deserted village. S. _hera_. _Ferasubua_ artificial islet north of _Fuaga_. _fi_ illative, in that case, then, following upon, just now, for the first time; follows the verbal particles _ka_, _ko_, but a particle need not be used; _gami mi fi saitamana na tala_, and how shall we know the way? _fi_ 2. trans. suffix to verb; _tau_, to wash; _taufia abana_. _fidali_ v. tr., to clap the hands, to strike with the hands. S. _hideli_. _fii_ v. i., to be in pain, to hurt. S. _hii_. _fiila_ v. n., pain. _nonifii_. _fili_; _tasifili_, alone. S. _hili_. _filo_; _ada filo_, to choose, to perceive; _too filo_, to perceive. _finau_ n., a hook. S. _hinou_. _fiolo_ v. i., to be hungry. _fioloa_ v. n., hunger. S. _hi'olo_. _firi_ adv., always, lasting; _too firi_, everlasting; _suli dangifiri_, daily. _firu_ v. i., to fight with weapons. _firula_ v. n., a fight, war; _na firula_. _fisu_, _fifisu_ v. tr., to pluck. _fita interrog_. adv., used with _e_ 3; _e fita_, how many? _sasigu ka fita fe ade doo taa fuagu_, how often shall my brother wrong me? S. _nite_. _fitali_ v. tr., to split; _too fitali_, split in sunder. S. _hideli_. _foaa_ v. tr., to pray. _foaataini_ v. tr., to pray for. _foaala_ v. n., prayer. _foda_ v. tr., to shut, to close. _foela_ v. n., division, schism. _foga_ v. i., to be open, to rend. S. _ho'a_. _fola_ v. i., to shine, to be clear; _lioda kasi fola_, their minds shall be clear; _bae fola_, to speak plain. _folala_ v. n., light, clear, shining. _folaa_ n., a calm. S. _holaa_. _folifoli_ v. tr., to measure, to signify, to exemplify. _folifolia_ v. n., a measure. _folo_, _fofolo_ 1. v. tr., to guard; _folo fonosi_, to protect. _folola_ v. n., a guarding. _foloa_ v. n., guardian. _folo_ 2. v. i., to cross over; _fali folo_, to turn aside _towards_; _ato_ _folo_, to cross the sea. _rarafolo_. _fono_ v. i., to be full; _agala fono_, a full ten. Mota _wono_. _fonosi_ (_nau_) verb used as preposition, against, to meet, to protect. S. _honosi_. _fonu_ n., a turtle. S. _honu_. _foosi_ v. tr., to officiate, conduct service. _fote_ 1. v. tr., to paddle; 2. n., a paddle; _si fote_. S. _hote_. _fotoi_ v. tr., to hit, to crucify. _fou_ 1. rock, stone; _si fou_, a rock. S. _hau_ _fou_ 2. v. i., to proclaim. _foulai_ v. tr., to proclaim. S. _hou_. _founia_, _faunia_ n., a sacrifice. _fousi_ v. tr., to turn, to reverse. _fu_ 1. v. i., to be grieved. S. _hu_. _fu_ 2. adv., real, permanent, for good; _ngali fu ana_, to take it permanently. S. _hu_. _fua-_ (_gu_) 1. prep, to, for, dative, motion towards; _falea fuana_, give it to him; _mae fuana_, die to his disadvantage; _soe ledia fuana_, question him about it; _bae fua_, forbid anyone; in order to, _fua qaimani_, in order to help; _ngado fua_, trust (a person), _fuana_ used as subjunctive or optative. _fua_ 2. n. ashes. _Fuaga_ artificial islet inside reef at Ataa Cove. _fuagalo_ v. i., to be in good time, early afoot in the morning. _fuasa_, a crocodile. S. _huasa_. _fualangaa_ n., sin. _fufua_ (_na_) n., fruit; _fufue ai_, seed; _fufuana_, its seed. S. _hue_. _fufusi_ v. tr., to scatter, to sow. _fulaa_ n., a spring of water. S. _hulaa_. _fuli_ n., place; _fuli abae ai_, men's handiwork; _fuli fera_, village; _i fulini_, in their place (neuter). S. _huli_. _fulo_ 1. v. tr., to wash, to sponge; n., a sponge. S. _hulo_. _fulo_ 2. v. tr., to prepare; _fuloa na tala_, to make ready a way. _funu_ v. i., to come to naught, be destroyed; _ani funu_, to eat up, devour; _doo funu gi_, things of naught, vanities. _fungo_ (_gu_) n., relations at law; _fungona Peter geni_, Peter's mother-in-law. S. _hungao_. _fungu_ 1. v. i. to bear fruit. S. _hungu_. _fungu_ 2. v. i., to be full. S. _honu_. _funguli_ v. tr., to oppress, cause sorrow to. _furai_ n., a net; _furai ana deela_, a fishing net. _futa_ v. i., to be born. _futala_ v. n., generation. S. _hute_. _fuura_ v. i., to be dropsical. S. _pule_. G _gagaro_ (_gu_) n., flank, side, of persons. S. _karokaro_. _galai_ v. tr., to strike, beat. _gale_ adj., precedes noun, small, little, of young persons or children; _ro fe gale bola_, two young pigeons. S. _kele_. _gali_ (_nau_) verb used as prep., round, around; lea _galia_, go round it. S. _kali_. _gamelu_ 1. personal pronoun trial, 1. excl. we; used by itself as subj. or follows _igamelu_. _gamelu_ 2. as _gamelu_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gamere_ 1. pers. pron. dual 1. we two; used by itself as subj. or follows _igamere_. _gamere_ 2. as _gamere_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gami_ 1. pers. pron. pi. 1. excl; we; used by itself as subj. or follows _igami_. _gami_ 2. as _gami_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gamolu_ 1. pers. pron. trial 2. you; used by itself as subj. or follows _igamolu_. _gamolu_ 2. as _gamolu_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gamoro_ 1. pers. pron. dual 2. you two; used by itself as subj. or follows _igamoro_. _gamoro_ 2. as _gamoro_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gamu_ 1. pers. pron. pi. 2. you; used by itself as subj. or follows _igamu_. _gamu_ 2. as _gamu_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep, _garangi_ (_nau_) verb used as prep., near; adv., almost. S. _kara'ini_. _garo_ v. i., to be astray, loose, to be lost, to wander, to be wrong; _manata garo_, to think astray, to err. _garola_ v. n., transgression. S. _takalo_. _gau_ 1. v. tr., to extract, to pluck. _gau_ 2. v. tr., to bind. _gefu_, _gefusi_ v. v. tr., to tear down, to roll away, to remove. _gege_; _ada gege_, to look behind. _Adagege_, name of artificial islet next to _Ferasubua_. S. _keke_ 3. _gele_ 1. adv., a little, somewhat. 2. adj., little; _gele qe ia gi_, small fishes. S. _kele_. _gelogelo_ v. i., to be shaken. _gelogeloa_ adj., shaken. S. _kidekule_. _geni_ n., a woman; _ni geni ne_ (Voc), woman; tole _genila_, marriage. S. _keni_. Alite _mangeli_. _gera_ 1. pers. pron. pi. 3. they; used by itself as subj. or follows _igera_; used to mark plurality; _gera priest_; _gera na Judea_. S. _kire_. _gera_ 2. as _gera_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gi_ article, denotes plurality, follows the noun; _na mwane gi_, the men; _na mwane oro gi_, many men; used with the forms of the pers. pron. pl. but not with those in _lu_; _gi_ may be separated from the noun; _na doo nia gi_, his things. S. _'i_ 8. _gia_ 1. pers. pron. pi. 1. incl. we; used by itself as subj. or follows _igia_. S. _ki'e_. _gia_ 2. as _gia_ 1. but suff. as obj. to v. and prep. _gidigidi_ v. tr., to knock with the knuckles. _ginigini_ v. tr., to pinch. S. _'ini_. _girigiri_; _girigiri lifo_, to clench the teeth; _girigiri lifoa_ v. n. _go_ 1. adv., of place, there, thither, away; added to _lau_; _e bae lau go_, he said also; _logo_, over there; _sifo go_, come down, descend. S. _wau_. _go_ 2. a demonstrative; _inau go agu_, I for my part; _tefe doo go ana_, only one thing; _ne_ may be added; _inia_ gone, that is it. S. _hou_ 2. _golu_ 1. pers. pron. trial 1. incl. we; used by itself as subj. or follows _igolu_. S. _kolu_. _golu_ 2. as _golu_ I, but is suff. to v. and prep, as obj. _goni_, _gonitai_ v. v. tr., to receive, to keep, to observe and do. S. _koni_. _goro_ 1. pers, pro. dual 1. incl. we two; used by itself as subj. or follows _igoro_. S. _kure_. _goro_ 2. as _goro_ 1. but is suff. to v. and prep, as obj. _gougou_ (_na_) n., husk, shell, _gu_ 1. pers. pron. sing. 1. I, used by itself as sub. or follows _inau_. Florida, _ku_. _gu_ 2. as _gu_ 1. but is suff. to v. and prep, as obj. _gula_ n., place, part; _gula i maa_, outside; _gule bara_, family. _gulu_ v. i., to be heavy, to be enceinte, _gulufi_ v. tr., to be too heavy for. _gulua_ adj., heavy. _gumu_ v. tr., to strike, to punch. S. _kumu_. _gutafi_ v. tr., to persecute. S. _kotahi_. _gwa_; _faigwa_, to shed, to spill. _gwaa_ v. i., to be open, of ears. S. _wa'a_. _gwagwaria_ adj., patient, gentle. _gwai_ 1. v. tr., to anoint; 2. n., ointment. _gwaila_ v. n., anointing; _gwai ni gwaila_. _gwalifoa_ v. tr., to cause to sink. _gwalu_ 1. v. tr., to promise. _gwalua_ v. n., a promise, _gwalula_ v. n., a promising. _gwalu_ 2. v. i., to moor a vessel, _gwaofa_ n., house, ridge. S. _qaoha_. _gwaofai_ v. tr., to hide, to cover over, _gwari_ adj., cold; _kafo gwari_, cold water, _gwarimabe_ v. i., to be gentle, quiet, sober. _gwagwaria_ _gwau_, _gwou_ (_gu_) n., head. S. _q'au_. _gwaunga_, _gwounga_ n., a generation; _gwaunge mwane_, a generation of men. S. _qaunge_. _gwauru_, _gwouru_ v. i., to kneel, to bend. S. _pouruuru_. _gwautoli_, _gwoutoli_ v. i., to bow, to bend. S. _qa'utoli_. _gwegwe_ v. tr., to buffet; _salo_ e _gwegwe gera_, the wind was contrary to them. _gwelu_; _tatagwelu_, headlong. S. _tataqelu_. _gwini_, _gwinigwini_ v. i., to be moist, wet. S. _qini_. _gwou_, _gwougwou_, _gwoufi_, 1. v. v. tr. to drink. _gwoula_ v. n., a drinking. _gwou_, _gwau_ 2. v. i., to be deserted, overgrown, of gardens; to be part; to be empty, finished, of a vessel; _fera gwou_, a deserted village, _gwoutai_ v. tr., to be apart, alone; _e gwouiai daro_, they two were alone. Mota _won_. _gwoubusua_ a hill. _gwou_, head, _gwouru_, _gwauru_ v. i., to kneel, sit. _gwourula_ session. S. _pouruuru_. _gwoutai_, _gwoutaini_ v. v. tr., to bow the head. _gwou ulunga_ n., a pillow. S. _qa'u ulunge_. I _i_ 1. locative; always used before names of places; always with adverbs of time and direction; _ifai_, where? _i daluma_, in the midst; _i Ramarama_, at Port Adam; _i kade manga na_, at that time; _i angita_, when? _i se_, _i sena_, here. Forms the compound prepositions _ifafo_, _i fara_, _i lao_. S. _i_. _i_ 2. genitive; _geni i Saa_, a Sa'a woman; _ro kesi kurui bata_, two pieces of money; used to express purpose, _lea i fasifa_, go to purchase. S. _i_. _i_ 3. prefix to personal and demonstrative pronouns; _inau_, _igoro_, _igia_. S. _i_. _i_ 4. instrumental prefix forming noun from verb; _kamu_ to eat areca nut, _ikamu_, a lime spatula. _i_ 5. verbal suffix; _manata_, to think, _manatai_, to pity. S. _'i_. _ian_ a fish, a fish tooth (porpoise); _qe ia_, a fish. S. _i'e_. _iano_ adv., on the ground, down; _mai iano_, on the earth. _iangita_ adv., when? at what time? _ibobongi_ adv., tomorrow. Mota _qong_. _ida_ v. i., to be ashamed, to reverence; _ida fasi_, to reverence, _idala_ v. n., respect, shame. _idalu_ pers. pron. pl. 3. they; used by itself as subj. or follows _dalu_, more restricted in application than _igera_. _idaro_ pers. pron. dual 3, they two; used by itself as subj. or follows _daro_. _idu_ 1. v. i., to count. _idumi_ v. tr. S. _idu_. _idu_ 2. v. i., to move position; _lea idu_, to pass by; _lea idu mai_, to enter. _idula-_ (_gu_) n., on behalf of. _ie_ (_gu_) n., stomach, womb. S. _'ie_. _ifafo_ (_gu_) prep, above; _maaedangi i fafo_, two days ago. _ifai_ adv., where. _ifara_ (_na_) n., underneath. _ifi_ v. i., to open, _ifingi_ v. tr. _ifitai_ n., a mat, a bed. _ifitaini_ v. tr., to spread as a cloth. _ifu_ (_gu_) n., hair. S. _ihu_. _ifu_ v. i., to be uprooted. S. _'aihu_. _ifula_ v. n., a fall, an uprooting, _igamelu_ 1. pers. pron. trial excl. 1. we; used as subj.; more restricted in application than _igami_. _igamere_ pers. pron. dual 1. excl. we two; used as subj. _igamolu_ pers. pron. trial 2. you; used as subj.; more restricted in application than _igamu_. _igamoro_ pers. pron. dual 2. you two; used as subj. _igamu_ pers. pron. pi. 2. you; used as subj. _igera_ pers. pron. pi. 3. they; used as subj.; also as plural article; _igera fiolo_, the hungry. S. _ikire_. _igia_ pers. pron. pl. 1. inch we; used as subj. S. _iki'e_. _igolu_ pers. pron. trial. 1. incl. we; used as subj.; more restricted in application than _igia_. S. _ikolu_. _igoro_ pers. pron. dual 1. we two; used as subj. S. _ikure_. _iida_ (_na_) n., pinnacle of house. _iidimani_ only, just, to be about to; _iidimani si doo_, the uttermost farthing; _tesi gida iidimani_, the merest piece. _ikamu_ n., a lime spatula. _ilangi_ adv., up, above, in the sky. _ilefou_ n., a precipice; _fou_. _ili_ v. i., to choose; Hi _doo_, to choose. S. _ilisi_. _ilisi_ v. tr. _ilao_ (_gu_) n., used as prep.; within; _ilaona_, inside. S. _ila'o_. _ileli_ v. tr., to judge. _ilelia_ adj., bruised. _ilifaini_ v. tr., to give commands to, to signify. _ilitoo_ v. tr., to tempt; takes _gu_, _mut_, _na_, as pronominal suffixes; _a ilitooa_ v. n., the tempter. _imaa_ adv., outside, in the courtyard. _i moumouli_ (_gu_) on, in, the left hand (late use). _inakesi_ v. tr., to examine, take account of, beseech, importune; _inakesi ingola_, to beseech. _inala_ v. i., to discern by casting lots. S. _ilala_. _inali_ 1. v. tr., to plait; 2. a rope. S. _i'eli_. _inao_ (_gu_) n., before, in front of, of old time. S. _ina'o_. _ini_ v. tr., to pinch, _ini_ i _luana_, to throttle. S. _'ini_. _inia_ pers. pron. sing. 3. he, she, it; used as subj. and followed by _nia_. S._inge'ie_. _inite_; _inite arai_, the elders. _initoo_ to be glorious; _soe initoo_, to glorify; _too initoo_, the rulers; _initoo_, _initoola_, majesty. _inumae_ v. i., to be orphaned, to be poor. _inumaea_ v. n., an orphan. S. _inemae_. _inunufa-_ (_gu_) n., because of. S. _inunuha_. _ingo_ v. i. to beseech. _ingosi_ v. tr., to beseech. _ingotaini_ v. tr., to provoke. _ingola_ v. n., _inakesi ingola_, to beseech. _ioe_ pers. pron. sing. 2. thou, used as subj. and followed by _o_. S. _i'oe_. _iqa_ v. 1. to be spoilt, shed, of fluid. _irogi_ adv., yesterday. _irori_ v. tr., to mix, mingle, stir up. _isara_ adv., shore, to the shore. _ise_, _isegi_, _ise na_ adv., here. _isi_; _isilana_, the end; _isiburi_, to be last, finally; _isingana ne_, from henceforth; _sae isingana_, leave off speaking. _isuli_ prep. motion after, motion over; _isulia rodo mana asua_, by day and night; _lea isulia_, go after him. S. _isuli_. _ita_ adv., motion from; _ita ana mai_, up to here; _ita mai ifai_, whence; _ita na ma inao_, from of old. _itafu-_ (_gu_) n., on behalf of. _iu_, _iuka_ affirmative, yes. K _ka_ verbal particle, used of present or of future time, or of consequent action; _nia ka bae uri_, he speaks thus; _gamelu ka ania si taa_, what shall we eat? _sui ta nia kafi bae uri_, thereupon he says; _lelea ka rodo_, go till nightfall; may be used in negative sentences with the addition of _si_, not; _kasi bobola_, it is not fitting. U. _'a_. _kada_ n., a period; _kada na_, _kada ni_, at the time when; _i kada uta_, when? _kade manga_, while; _kade beu_, inner chamber. _kafo_ water; _si kafo_, a bamboo water carrier. _kakalu_ a well of water. S. _kilu_. _kakamu_ (_na_) n., edge, border. _kakao_ basin, vessel, coconut shell cut to make a spoon. S. _kaokao_. _kakara_ egg; _fe kakarai kua_, hen's egg. _kakasi_ v. tr., to carve. _kakau_ (_gu_) n., finger. S. _kau_. _kame_ (_na_) n., used with locative i, by the side of (of things). _kamu_ v. i., to eat areca nut. S. _damu_. _kani_ v. tr., to bind. _kanila_ v. n., a binding. _kanikulu_ v. tr., to hang up, suspend. _kao_ a bamboo water carrier. Cf. _kafo_. _kari_ v. tr., to tear, rend, break open, take to pieces. _kau_, _kakau_, v. tr., to bind, tie. _kakari_ v. i., to be torn. _kauraa_ v. tr., to mend, patch. _ke_ article, followed by _si_ 2.; _ro kesi kurui bata_, two pieces of money; added to _te_, _teke si gula_, a part. _kede_, _kekede_ v. tr., to cut, carve, write. _kedela_ n., inscription, writing, letter. _kedekedea_, _kekedea_, adj., gorgeous, bright-colored. _kekerofa_ (_na_) n., of, _amongst_; _ada kekerofana_, choose from among; _mou kekerofana_, fearful of. _keketo_ v. tr., to judge. _keketola_ v. n., judgment. _keo_ v. i., to be blind; _mwane keo_, a blind man. _kete-_ (_gu_) 1. n., head; i _ketena_, on his head. _kete_ 2. v. tr., to cut; too _kete_, to cut in pieces. _ki_ v. i., to be troubled in mind; _liona kafi ki_, his mind was troubled. _kiki_ v. tr., to pour, _kila_ a stone axe. S. _'ile_. _kilu_ a hole, grave, well; _kilu ni kafo_, a well of water. S. _kilu_. _kilugwou_ a tomb. S. _kiliqeu_. _kirio_ porpoise. Mota _ririgo_. S. _'iri'o_. _ko_ 1. verbal particle, used only with _o_ pers. pron. sing. 2. _oko_; denotes consequence of action, used of present or future time, _ko-_ (_gu_) 2. n., ancestor; _ko gia gi_, our fathers. S. _kookoo_. _kobu_ v. i., to be fat. _kobukobula_, adj. fat. _koburo_ N. W. wind. Florida _komburo_. _kokomu_ an islet. S. _komukomu_. _kone_ 1. n. a flood of waters; 2. v. i. to be in flood. S. _kone_. _kore_; _ruru kore_, an avalanche. S. _kore_. _kua_ fowl; _kakarai kua_, fowl's egg. _kubou_ a staff. _kudo_; _qae kudona_, guiltless, _kukui_ a dog. Mao. _kuri_. _kulu_ 1. v. tr., to bury at sea. S. _kulu_. _kulu_ 2. cf _kanikulu_. _kuru_ 1. a piece, section, _kurui bata_, a piece of money, _ro kurui doo_, two sections. _kuru_ 2. v. i., to be maimed. _kuru_ 3. v. i., to sink. _kuta_ v. i., to shake. S. _kute_. L _la_ 1. termination of verbal nouns; attached to verbs; _mae_, to die, _maela_, death; _bae_, to speak, _baela_, speech; the meaning seems to be gerundival and to denote the act of doing a thing. Cf. S. _la_ 5. _la_ 2. termination of the verbal nouns, attached to certain nouns; _te_, mother, _ro mwai telana_, mother and daughter; attached to verbs; _tasa_, _ro fe tasala_, twice as much. _la_ 3. adjectival ending; attached to verbs; _taga_, to be scattered, _tagala_, promiscuously; _tagalo_, to be lost, _tagalola_, lost; _teo_, _teteola_; attached to nouns, _mwai_, _mwaila_. _labu_ v. tr., to assault. S. _rapu_. _labua_ n., point, prick, splinter. _lada_ v. i., to fall down. S. _lada_, _lade_ deep water, secure anchorage. S. _lade_. _lado_ v. tr., to join, knit; _lado ae_, to follow. _ladola_ v. n., a member. _lafi_, _lalafi_ v. v. tr., to take up, pull up, draw out, Mota _lav_. _lafu_ 1. v. tr., to pull, to wrench, pluck. _lafu_ 2. to be worn out, old; _lafue toongi_, old clothes. S. _lahu_. _lafusi_, _lalafusi_, v. tr., to be ignorant of. _lai_ transitive suffix to verb; _tege_, _tegelai_. S. _la'i_. _lala_ v. i., to stretch; _lala fonosi_, protect. S. _lala'i_. _lalaba_ v. i., to walk about. S. _la'alapa_. _lalabata_, court yard. _lalago_ v. i., to cling. S. _nanako_. _lalano_ the ground immediately above the beach. _lalanga_ v. i., to be dry, without coconut milk (of yam puddings), unleavened; _usu lalanga_ to wipe dry. S. _langa_. _lali_ (_na_) 1. n., root, _lali ngado_, to be firmly rooted. _lali_ 2. v. tr., to drive. _lalao_ v. i., to run. _lalaoa_ v. n., a herald. Mota _valago_. _lalifu_ (_na_) n. corner. _laliqate_ v. i., to make an oration, to preach. _laliqatela_ v. n. S. _wale_. _lamua_ a dove; _fe lamua_; _ta ro fe lamua_, two doves. _langae_, to throw; _langae fou_, to cast stones. _langi_ 1. negative, no, not; _e_ may be prefixed; used as negative particle; _e langi nau gu lea_, I did not go; _si_ may be added, _nia langi si saea_, he does not know, _e langi nau gu si lea_, I am not going; _e langi si langi lau_, not again; _langi lau_ no more; _langi ana_, not existing, lost; _langi ta_, or, if not; _ma langi_, _ma e langi_, or not, in questions; _lalangi ana_, nothing. _langi_ 2. sky, heaven; _ilangi_. S. _langi_. _lao_ (_na_) n, in; _lao rodo_, at night; i _laogamu_, _amongst_ you, in you, _laona maamu_, in your eye. S. _lalo_. _laongi_ v. tr., to cross, step over; S. _laongi_. _Lau_ 1. name of the language spoken by the coast peoples of Big Malaita on the artificial Islets off northeast coast, spoken also at Port Adam on Little Malaita. _lau_ 2. adv. again, anew, also; _go_ may be added, _inau lau go_. S. _lou_. _lau_ 3. v. tr., to wrest, abduct; _lau doola_, extortion; _lau fafi_, to deliver. S. _lau_. _lausi_ v. tr., _bae lausit_ to compel. _lea lelea_, v. i., to go; _lea fonosi_, to afflict; _lea isuli_, to follow. _leafi_ v. tr., to cause to move. _lelea_ v. n., going. _leala_ v. n., a herald. S. _lae_. _lebelebe_ v. i., to be weak, sick. _lebelebela_ v. n., trembling. _ledi_ 1. v. tr., to ask a question; _aoe ledi_, to question a person. _ledila_ v. n., questioning. _ledi_ 2. v. tr., to abominate, to renounce; _qatiedi_. S. _leledi_. _lelefe_, a dish, bowl, of wood. _li_ 1. genitive; _maalimaea_, enemy; _maalitafa_, channel; a variant of _ni_. _li_ 2. transitive suffix to verbs, _mae_, _maeli_. _lifo_ (_gu_) n. tooth; _girigiri lifoa_, gnashing of teeth. S. _niho_. _liligali_ (_nau_), prep, all around. S. _lilikeli_. _lima_ 1. (_gu_) n. hand, arm. S. _nime_. _lima_ 2. numeral, five; _e lima_. S. _lime_. _limana_ ordinal, fifth, the fifth time. _lingisi_ v. tr., to reverse, turn upwards. S. _lingi_. _liqa_, cave, hole. S. _liwe_. _liu_, _liliu_ v. i., to ply, come, pass by; _liu idu_, to pass by; _liliu kali_, to spread; _liu inao fuagamu_, go in front of you. _liufa_ v. n., an epidemic. S. _liu_. _lio_ 1. v. i., to look, seem. _lio_ (_gu_) n., appearance. S. _lio_. _lio_ 2. (_gu_) n., heart, mind; _lio sarofaia_, harmless; _lio bukonua_, sorrow; _ro si lio_ double mind; _lio too_, to be wise, _lio tooa_, _lio_ _toola_, wisdom; _alu te si lio_, to be brave. _lita_ (_gu_) n., waist, loins, _lo_ adv., there, used with _go_, and _gi_; _ita mai logo_, thence; _logo_ north west; _na ogule boso logi_, the herd of swine over there. _lobo_ v. i., a lake, pond. S. _lopo_. _lofo_ 1 v. i., to jump, to fly; _lofo laongi_, to jump over; _ano lofo_, dust. _lofoi_ v. tr., to assault. S. _loho_. _lofo_ 2. (_na_) n, in the neighborhood of, over against, opposite to; _i lofona fera_, opposite the village. _logosi_ v. tr., to incline, bend. S. _lolosi_. _lola_ v. i., to drown. _lologu_ v. i., to be palsied, crippled. S. _loku_. _lolosi_ v. tr., to bend. S. _lolosi_. _lolou_ v. i., to make a noise, reverberate. S. _lolou_. _loo_ v. i., to be fierce, wild, suspicious. _falooi_, to persecute, cause to be wild. S. _loo_. _looua_ grass. _loulou_ 1. v. i., to be quick; 2. adv., quickly, quick. S. _lauleu_. _loulou_ 3. adj., whole, entire, in one piece. S. _laku_. _lu_ contraction for _olu_ three, used to form trial number of pronoun; _dalu_, _golu_, etc. S. _lu_. _luga_ v. i., to loose. _lugatai_, _lugataini_ v. v. tr. _lugala_ v. n., loosing. S. _luhe_. _lui_ v. tr., to forbid, reserve; _alu lui_ to set a taboo mark on. S. _luu'i_ _lukumi_ v. tr., to restrain. _lulua_ 1. a stranger, guest. _lulua_ 2. a basket of plaited coconut leaf. S. _luelue_. _luu_ v. tr., to move, to depart. S. _luu_. M _m_ adjectival prefix; _moi_ broken. _ma_ 1. conjunction; _ma ana_, though; _ma ka langi_, or not, in questions; _ma ta_, but. _ma_ 2. adjectival prefix of condition; _madiu_; _matala_. S. _ma_. _maa_ 1. (_gu_) n., eye, face, aperture, gate; _i maa_, at the door, in the courtyard; _gula i maa_, outside; _maana bara_, gate; _maa too_ (_gu_) to visit; _toongi bono maa_, sackcloth: 2. art. one, a; _maa ni dara gi_, young men; _fai maae oru qailiu_, the four winds; _maae dangi_, a day, _maae dangi i fafo_, two days hence; _maae rodo_, darkness; _maae fera_, a village. S. _maa_. _maa_ 3. voc., father; _maa nau_, father. S. _ma'a_. _maabala_ to no effect; _rao maabala_, to work unprofitably. S. _maatala_. _maabe_ v. i., to be willing; _mu maabe ni elela_, you were willing to rejoice. _maadara_ (_gu_) n., forehead. S. _dara_. _maafu_ v. tr., to cover with wrappings; _maafu maa_, to blindfold. _maala_ an ulcer, a sore. _maaligwou_ v. i., to be thirsty, _gwou_ 1. _maalimaea_ enemy. _mae_. _maalitafa_ channel in reef. S. _maalitawa_. _maamana_; _ro maamana_, father and son. _maasi_ v. tr., to await, expect. _maasia_ adj., while. _maauugala_ to mock at, used with poss. _mabe_ v. i., to be obedient, willing; _manata mabe_, patient. Cf. _gwarimabe_. _mabesi_ v. tr., to correct, rebuke. _madafi_ v. tr., to perceive, feel. _madalaba_ oven. _madiu_ adj., different, other, another, astray; too _madiu gi_, gentiles, _madiua_ 1. exclam. well, I never! 2. adj. different. S. _diu_. _mae_, _mamae_ v. i., to die, to be ill, to be numb, to be eclipsed, of moon. _maeli_ v. tr., to die of; _bae maeli_, to condemn to death. _maea_ v. n., death, sickness, _maela_ (_gu_) v. n., death, danger, _maemaefa_ v. n., sickness. S. _mae_. _mafo_ v. i., to be healed. Mota _mawo_. _magu_ n. clothing; _si magu_. _mai_ 1. adv., here, hither, this way; _ita ana mai_, hither; _ita mai_ logo, thence. S. _mai_, _mai_ 2. transitive suffix to verb, ala, _alamai_; _fatola_, _fatolamai_. S. _ma'i_. _makalokalo_ adj., in the early morning, used with locative _i_. _makeso_ adj., weak, feeble. _Mala_ 1. Malaita; _Mala baita_, Big Malaita; _Mala Tout_, Little Malaita. _mala_ 2. _mala iteite_ v. tr., to wound. Cf. S. _mala masi_. _malefo_ shell money, _malengai_ coconut, _malimali_ adj., sweet. S. _malimeli_. _malingi_ adj., split, overturned. S. _malingi_. _mamagu_; v. i. _bae mamagu_, to revile. _mamagua_ n., weakness, _mamaloni_ adv., only, merely, _mamalu_ 1.(_gu_) n., a shadow; 2. v. i., to cast a shadow; _sato e mamalu_, it is towards evening. S. _mamalu_. _mamana_ v. i., to be true, real; _doo mamana_, truly; _manata mamana_, to believe. _mamanaa_ truly. _mamanaa_ n., power. S. _nanama_. _mana_ used of numerals over ten; _aqala mana fai_. U. _mana_. _manata_ 1. v. i., to think; _manata suli_ to know; _manata luga_, to for- give; _manata too_ (_gu_) to remember. _manatai_ v. tr. to pity. _manataila_ v. n., 1. pity, mercy; 2. thought. S. _manata_. _manata_ 2. v. i., to be quiet, tame. S. _manata_. _mani_; _qaimani_, to help; _qaimani fainau_, help me; _fatake qaimani_, to be a peacemaker. _qaimania_, v. n., a company. S. _mani_. _manu_ bird. S. _manu_. _manga_ time, occasion, place; _i kade manga_, at the time; _i kade manga_ _na_, now; _si manga uta_, when? _mangata_ (_na_) n., midst, middle; used with loc. _i_. S. _matanga_. _mangisingisi_ adj., broken in pieces. _ngi_. _mango_ (_gu_) n. life, breath; _mango fu_, to be sad; _mango suu_, to faint. _mangoli_ v. tr., to breathe upon. S. _mango_. _mao_ 1. v. i., to dance. 2. n., a dance. _maoli_ v. tr., to dance; _maoli mao_. S. _mao_. _mara-_ (_gu_) n. of own accord, alone. S. _maraa_. _maraqai_; _alu maraqai_, to become red and glowering, of sky. _marigo_ (_gu_) n. flesh, body. _matafa-_ (_na_) n., _too matafana_, to know. S. _mataqa_. _matai_, _mamatai_ v. i., to have ague; _matai afedali_, fever. _mataia_ v. n., disease, a sick person; _si mataia_. _matala_ adj., lone, alone, merely; _tefe mwela matala_, only son. _matanga_ (_na_) n., midst, used with locative; _i mangata_. _me_ for _mai_ hither; _lea fasi me_, come here, _mea_ 1. (_gu_) n. tongue; 2. v. i., _mea_ too, to taste of. _meali_ v. tr., to lick. _meafa_ (_na_) v. n., tongue; _meafana ere_, tongues of fire. S. _mea_. _meme_ in pieces; _too meme_ to break in pieces. _mi_ 1. personal pron. pl. 1. excl. we; used by itself as subj. or follows _gami_. _mi_ 2. transitive suffix to verb; _ano_, _anomi_. _midi_ v. i., to taste; _midi odonga ana_, to taste of. _mode_ v. tr. to mend, patch. _modela_ v. n., a patch. _moi_ adj., broken. S. _'o'i_. _moko_, _momoko_ 1. v. i., to be corrupt, to smell; 2. n., corruption. _mokola_ v. n., corruption; _mokofa-_ (_na_) v. n., the smell of. _molagali_ n., all the islands; the world, _momoi_ v. tr. to buffet; _afe e momoia na ola_, the wind buffeted the ship. _momoko_; _momoko ia_, breast, bosom. _mone_ adv., gives life to the narrative; _tamone_; _otomone_. _mori_, _momori_, as _mouri_, to live. Cf. S. _moli_, _walaimoli_, _mauri_. _morumoru_ v. i., to be broken in pieces. S. _morumoru_. _mou_, _momou_, v. i., to fear. _mouni_ v. tr. _moumoula_ v. n., fear. S. _mau_. _mouli_ to be left-handed, awkward. S. _mauli_. _moumouli_ (_gu_) n., left hand. _mouri_, _momouri_ v. i., to live. _mourisi_ v. tr., to survive, escape from. _mouria_ v. n., life. _mourila-_ (_gu_) v. n., life. S. _mauri_. _mousi_ v. tr., to cut off, sever. S. _mousi_. _mu_. 1. pers. pron. pl. 2. used by itself as subj. or follows _gamu_; _mu kafi lea mai i angita_, when will you come? _mu_. 2. pronoun, suff. to nouns, sing. 2., thy. _mumudi_ crumb, chip, scrap; _mumudi i doo_, scraps. MW _mwaa_ snake. S. _mwaa_. _mwaela_ laughter. _famwaela_. _mwaemwae_ v. i., to be obedient. S. _mwae_. _mwai_ 1. a bag; _mwaila_ adj., rich. S. _mwa'i_. _mwai_ 2. prefix marking reciprocity of relationship; _ro mwai telana_, mother and child; _ro mwai fungona geni_, mother and daughter-in-law; used as plural article, _mwai asi nau_, brethren. S. _mwai_. _mwaimwane_, woman's brother, man's sister, _a mwaimwane nau_. _mwaluda_ adj., soft, gentle, kind, possible, easy. _mwane_, a male, man, boy, exclam. you! added to proper nouns and to certain other words to show sex distinction. S. _mwane_. _mwaomwao_ v. i., to be weak, feeble. _mwela_, child, boy, person; used with article _ni_ of women; _ni mwela ne_, this woman; _mwela bibiu_, little child. S. _mwela_. _mwemwedua_ honey. N _na_ 1. definite article, a, the; used with both sing. and pl.; _gera na Grekia_, the Greeks. Cf. Florida _na_. M. L. p. 524: _na noni_, the body; _na sasigamu_, your brethren; is in more frequent use than the corresponding _nga_ in Sa'a; in many cases nouns are used without any article when the signification is general. S. _nga_. _na_ 2. pronoun suffixed to nouns, sing. 3; _abana_, his hand: added to the first of two nouns to express a genitive; i _tolona fera_, on the tops of the hills; _gwauna na ai gi_, head of men: added to cardinals to form ordinals. S. nd, Mota _na_. _na_, _nana_ 3. demonstrative pron., there, that, follows noun; _si doo na_, that thing. _na_, _nana_ 4. adv. follows the verb and denotes a preterite, already, finished; _e sui na_, _e sui nana_, it is finished; _sui na_, thereafter. _naga_ v. tr., to waste, to spend. _namo_, inner harbour, lake, pool; _suu i namo_; _asi namo_ a lake. S. _namo_. _nana_, _na_ 3. 4. _nani_, _nanani_, v. i., to seek for. _nanisi_ v. tr. _nao_ (_gu_) n. face; with locative _i_; in front of, before; _naoe gula_, first place; _i naogu_, before my face; before my time, _naonao tolia_, chief portion at a feast. _nao_ v. i., to lead; _nao tala_, lead the way; _eta inao_, to lead. S. _nao_. _naofa_ (_na_) n. eldest, first, _naofana mwela_, eldest child, _naofe mwela_. _nare_ 1. v. tr., to roast on the embers. _nare_ 2. v. tr., to prepare, make ready, serve, wait upon. _nau_ 1. pers. pron. sing. 1. I, used by itself as subj. or follows _inau_; _nau gu ote nau ni_ lea, I do not want to go. V. _nau_. _nau_ 2. as _nau_ 1. but suff. as obj. to verbs and prepositions. _nau_ 3. _fanau_ educate. S. _nanau_. _ne_ 1. demonstrative, there, that; _a mwela ne_, that person, he. _ne_ 2. interrogative pron. follows the interrogative _ati_, who; _ati ne_? _e uta ne_, how is it? _ne_ 3. v. i., to speak, make a sound. _nee_ v. i., to be still, silent. _nena_ demonstrative pron., that, follows the noun; _doo nena_, that thing. _neneo_ charcoal. _ni_ 1. genitive, of, belonging to; (a) used mainly in construction; _fote ni fera_, a native paddle; _baea ni sugela_, words of deceit, _mwemwedua ni lalano_, wild honey; (b) expressive of purpose, _si gula ni lea inia_, a place for him to go to; (c) expressive of condition, _rosuli ni manatai gami_, hear us in mercy, _gera mou ni oli_, they feared to return; _fasia muka manata ni bae uri_, think not to say thus; (d) added to verbal suffix giving transitive force _foaa_, _foaataini_. S. _ni_. Cf. M. L. p. 532. _ni_ 2. personal article used with the names of females, both native and foreign; _ni Alida_, also used with certain nouns which denote women where in Sa'a _nga_ or _a_ is used, _ni te nau_, my mother; _ni mwaimwane_, a man's sister or a woman's brother; _ni aia_, female relations; _ni doo_ the woman; _ni mwela ne_, that woman; is not used with _afe_ wife, nor with _geni_ female; is not used with plural. Duke of York _ne_, M. L. p. 566, _Gilb_. Is. _nei_, Efate _lei_, S. _kei_. _ni_ 3. interrogative used to (a) call attention; _ni ai_? I say, you! (b) in the sense of, is that so? S. _ni_. _ni_ 4. demonstrative attached to _ta_, one, a; _tani aiai_, some people; to _oto_; _tani oto ni saiai_. S. _ni_ 3. _ni_ 5. a detachable prefix; _doo nifai_, _doo ifai_, what thing? S. _ni_ 4. _ni_ 6. transitive suffix to verbs; _mou_, _mouni_. S. _ni_. _ni_ 7. pers. pron. sing, 3. it, used in explanation; _na light fuana noni ni maa_, the light of the body is the eye; _e uta ro si lio ni amu_, why are you of two minds? _ni_ 8. suff. pron. pl. 3. neut; _i talani_, in their place. S. _ni_. _nia_ personal pronoun sing. 3. he, she, it; used by itself as subj, or follows _inia_. S. _nge'ie_. _niania_ v. tr., to deny, repudiate. _nifai_ interrog. pron. what, follows noun; _doo nifai_, what thing? _nima_, _ninima_ 1. (_gu_) n. hand, arm; _ninimana tala_, corner of the way, beside the way. S. _nime_. _nima_ 2. for _lima_ five. _nina_ v. i. to be accustomed to, be able. S. _nina_. _noabu_ sparrow hawk. _noni_ (_gu_) n. body, shape, fashion; _noni fii_, to suffer; _noni fiila_ v. n., suffering; _nonilau_, to be safe and sound. Mao _tino_. _nono_ v. i., to place the face against, to sniff, to kiss; _nono faini_, to kiss. _nonoi_ v. tr. S. _nono_. _nue_ v. i., to be foolish, dumb. _nuela_ v. n., folly. _nui_ (_na_) n. a nest. S. _niui_. _nuku_ v. i., to be wrinkled. S. _nuku_. _nunulu_ v. i., to wither. S. _nunulu_. _NG_ _ngado_ 1. v. i., to be firm; _ngado fua_, to trust, _manata ngado ana_, to rely on; _too ngado_, to remain firm. _ngado_ 2. i _aena ngado_, at the very bottom. S. _i ngadona aena_, at his feet. _ngae_ (_na_); _adala i ngaena maa_, envy. S. _ngae_. _ngaini_ transitive suffix to verb; saw, _saungaini_. S. _nga'ini_. _ngali_ 1. v. tr., to take, to receive. _ngalila_ v. n., burden. _ngali_ 2. canarium nut. S. _ngali_. _ngangarea_ adj., deep rooted. _ngasi_ v. i., to be firm, hard; _bae ngasi_, to speak sternly. Florida _ngasi_, hard. _ngi_ 1. v. tr., to divide; _mangisingisi_. _ngi_ 2. transitive suffix to verb; _sau_, _saungi_. S. _ngi_. _ngidu_ (_gu_) n., lip; _ngidu auau fua_, to hate. S. _ngidu_. _ngisi_; _fangisi_, to acknowledge. _ngisu_ 1. v. i., to spit; 2. n. _fe ngisu_, spittle. _ngisufi_ v. tr., to spit on. S. _ngisu_. _ngosa_ v. i., to bud; _ngosa faolu_, just come into bud. _ngongosa_, a spike, a horn; _ngongose doo_. _ngu_ 1. v. i., to sing; 2. n. a song. _nguli_ v. tr., to sing; _ngulia ngu_, to sing a song. O _o_ pers. pron. sing. 2. thou, used by itself as subj. or follows _ioe_. S. _o_. _oa_ v. i. to share in. _oalangai_ v. tr., to distribute, to share in. S. _'oa_. _oba_ v. tr., to take from, separate, divide. S. _opa_. Florida _sopa_. _obala_ v. n. separation. _odonga_; _midi odonga_, to taste. S. _ohonga_. _odu_ v. tr., to command, order. _oe_ 1. an axe. _oe_ 2. v. i. to commit adultery. _oela_ v. n., adultery. _ofosi_ v. tr., to take down. S. _oohosi_. _ofu_ 1. v. i., together; _ofu bae_, to witness; 2. n. _ofu si doo_, a bundle. _ofu_ 3. v. i., to boil; _ofu duqet_ to burst. S. _ohu_. _oga_ (_gu_) n., stomach, belly. S. _'oqa_. _ogi_ (_gu_) 1. n., bone. _ogi_ (_gu_) 2. n., back, outside, _ogila_ a bone needle. _ogo_ a band, a creeper used for binding. S. _oko_. _ogosi_ v. tr., to destroy, pull down, uproot. S. _ooho'i_. _ogu_ 1. v. i., to collect, gather together; _ogu malefola_, money collecting; 2. adv., together, in company. _ogua_ v. n., company. _ogula_ v. n., _ogule ai_, a company of people. _oi_ v. tr., to break off. S. _'o'i_. _oimae_ exclam. alas! _okasa_ unripe; _maea okasa_, sudden death. _oku_ summer. S. _oku_. _ola_ canoe, ship. S. _'iola_. _ole_ v. tr., to betray; _ole ilalo_ deceit. _oli_ 1. v. tr., to hold in the arms. _oli_ 2. v. tr., to return, go back; adv. back. S. _'oli_. _olila_ v. n., return. _olisi_ v. tr., to answer; _nia kafi olisida_, then he answered them. _olitai_ partic. converted; _olitai manata lau_, repent. _olisusu_ v. i., to strive, quarrel, dispute, transgress; _olisusu marana_, to deny himself. _olo_ 1. v. i., to be deep. _olo_ 2. v. i., to cry out. _olosi_ v. tr.; _olosia riilana_, cried out. _olu_ numeral, three, _e olu_. _oluna_ ordinal, third, for the third time. S. _'olu_. _omae_ v. i., to weep. _omaea_ v. n., _omaela_ v. n., wailing. Cf. _oimae_. _onionga_, to mock, used with poss.; _onionga ana_, mocked him. _ono_ numeral, six; _e ono_. _onona_ ordinal, sixth, for the sixth time. S. _ono_. _ongataini_ v. tr., to vex, annoy, _ongiongi_ v. tr., to deceive. _oo_ a drum. S. _'o'o_. _oobala_ a shed, hut. _oofa-_ (_na_) approaching to, with child. _ooga_ v. tr., to be tied together, to incur a debt. _ooganga_ v. n., debt. _oolo_ v. i., to be straight; adj. straight. _ooloa_ v. n., straightness. _ooni_ adv., temporary, empty, idle, naked; _too ooni go_, fleeting. _ore_ v. i., to fail, to fall short of, to lack; _ore fanga_, to abstain from eating, fast; _ore fua_ to be lacking; _ore ana_, to be lacking; _ani ore_, to eat and leave some over. S. _ore_. _oro_ v. i., to be many; adj. many. _faoroa_. _oru_ 1. v. i., to blow; n. wind. S. _ooru_. _oru_ 2. widow; _qe oru_, a widow. _oso_ (_gu_) n. food for a journey. S. _oto_. _ote_ 1. plural article; _ote ai gi_, you women; _ote ruana_ his fellows; _ote geni_ women. _ote_ 2. v. tr., to fash, cause ennui to; _gera ote gera_, it wearied them. _ote_ 3. valley. _oto_ adv. perhaps; _oto mone_, is it so? denotes indefiniteness, used with _ni_ following, _tani oto ni saiai_, certain persons. _otofa-_ (_na_) because of, on account of. Q The sound represented by _q_ is _kw_. In the words from Alite given by Dr. Codrington in M. L., p. p. 39 ff. the sound which appears in Lau as _q_ is there written as _ku_; e. g. _kuai_, Lau _qai_, Sa'a _wai_, water; _q_ in Lau may represent _w_ in _Sa'a qato_, _waato_; _qalu_, _walu_; _Ulaqa_, _Ulawa_. _qadangi_ v. tr., to open up. _qae_ 1. v. tr., to beat, strike; _qae mousi_, to strike and cut off; _qae maeli_ to kill with blows. _qae_; 2. _qae tafusi_, to strain. _qae_; 3. _qae kudona_, guiltless. _qai_ 1. prefixed to verbs, denotes reciprocity; _sua_, to encounter, _qaisuasuafi_, to meet; _manata_, to think, _qaifamanatai_ to instruct; _liu_ to move position, _qailiu_ reciprocally; _mani_, (Sa'a _mani_, altogether), _qaimani_, to stand together, be of help to. The action of the original verb is enlarged and the subject included. _qai_ 2. n., water; _maana qai_, mouth of the stream, a harbor on the northeast coast, south of Aio. _qai_ 3. v. tr., to load, to fill up. _qaiara_ n., a command. _qaiaraa_ n., reward. _qaidori_ v. tr., to desire. _qaidoria_ v. n., desire. _dori_. _qaiduu_ v. tr., to revenge. _qaiduula_ v. n., vengeance. _duu_. _qaierisi_ v. tr., to command, importune. _qaierisia_ v. n., a command. _erisi_. _qaifamanatai_ v. tr., to instruct. _qaifamanataila_ v. n., instruction. _manata_ _qaife_; _qaife agalo_ to drive out evil spirits; _mwane qaife agalo_ a witch doctor. _qailangaini_ v. tr., to wag, nod, waive. _langa_, up. _qailiu_ adv., reciprocally, used of mutual action; _manata baita fuagamu_, _qailiu_, love one another; _lea qailiu_, to walk about. _liu_. _qailiua_ adj., humble, of low estate. _qaimaasi_ v. tr., to await, expect. _maasi_. _qaimanata_ v. tr., to have mercy upon, pity. _qaimanataia_ v. n., mercy. _manata_. _qaimani_ 1. v. tr., to help; _qaimani fai_, _qaimani faini_, to help; 2. used as prep., together, in company with; 3. v. i., to be reconciled with. _qaimania_ with one accord. S. _mani_. _qairaofai_ v. i., to agree with. _rao_ to work. _qaisagali_ v. tr., to revolt, commit insurrection, take up arms, trouble,vex. _qaisagalia_ v. n., an insurrection. _qaisuasuafi_ v. tr,, to meet, encounter. _sua_. _qaisusu_ v. tr., to sacrifice. _qaisusia_ v. n., a sacrifice. _qaitaa_ v. i., to be a stranger; _too ni qaitaa_, to be a stranger. S. _awataa_. _qaitaga_ v. tr., to cause to scatter. _qaitali_ v. tr., to be disobedient to. _qala_ v. i., to lay an accusation; _qala fafi_, to accuse a person. _qalafi_ v. tr., to be delivered of a child. _qalu_, 1. numeral, eight; _e qalu_. _qaluna_, ordinal, eighth, for the eighth time. _qalu_ 2. v. i., to emerge; _qalu tafa_, to emerge from. S. _waru_. _qanga_ n., thunder, a gun. _qangafi_ of the lightning; _sinamaaru ka qanagafia_, the lightning 'thundered.' _qangareo_ v. i., to pass by. _qaqalifola_ v. i., to be pure, clean, _fotoqaqalifola_, a great calm. _qaqalila_ adj., cold, of the weather. _qaqaoa_ adj., white, clean. _qarao_ a creeper used for tying; an iron nail. S. _wa'arao_. _qare_ v. tr., to castrate. _qarela_ adj., stony. _qate_ v. i., to make an oration, is preceded by _lali_; _laliqate_, to make an oration; _lali qatela_ v. n., an oration. S. _wale_. _qato_ a digging stick. S. _waato_. _qe_ 1. article; _qe afe_, a woman; _qe oru_, a widow; _qe ia_, a fish; _na_ may be prefixed; _na qe ia gi_, the fishes. Nengone, Gaua, _wa_, _we_, M. L., p. 71. _qe_ 2. a simpleton, fool; _gera qe_, fools, _qele_, _qeqele_, v. i., used with poss., to wonder at, be surprised. _qelela_ v. n., wonderment, surprise. _qesu_, _qeqesu_ v. i., 1. to smoulder, burn; 2. to shine. S._'eso_ _qiqi_ n., a drop; _qiqisi abu_, drops of blood. R _raa_ v. i., to climb up.; _raaraa_ n., light, sunlight; _na raaraa_. S. _raaraa_. _rabu_, _rarabu_, _rabusi_, v. tr., to hit, strike, beat. S. _rapu_ _rade_ n., a reed; _fe rade_. S. _rade_. _rafai_ v. tr., to exalt, elevate. _rage_ (_gu_) n., mind, heart, womb; _rage ruarua_, v. i., to doubt; _rage sasu_, to be angry; _rage sasua_, _rage sasula_, anger. _rakaraka_; _abu rakaraka_, a flow of blood. _ramo_ v. i., to be strong; _ramofua_, to deliver. _ramola_ v. n., strength. S. _ramo_. _rao_, _rarao_ v. tr., to work; _rao ana abana_, his handiwork; _rao uri_, to do like, to work at, to tend. _raoa_ v. n., _raola_ v. n., work. _rara_ 1. v. i., to be withered, ripe. _rarasi_ v. i., to shrivel, dwindle. S. _rara_. _rara_ 2. n., brightness, glory. S. _rara_. _rarafolo_, stretched across, a crosspiece; _ai rarafolo_, a cross (late use). S. _lala'i_. _rarangia_ adj., glorious. _raramaa_ v. i., to be excessive. S. _raramaa_. _rarao_ v. i., to stick, cling, cleave. S. _rarao_. _rarapu_ v. i., to reach, arrive at. S. _arapu_. _rarata_ a skull. S. _rarata_. _rarau_ v. tr., to kindle, light. _raunga_ weapons. _rauraua_ adj., soft, pliable. _rebo_ v. i., to be full grown, adult, old. S. _repo_. _reqeta_ v. tr., to open. _rereba_ v. i., to be broad, wide, _reresi_; _age reresi_, a lily, Crinum asiaticum. _rigi_ v. tr., to see. _rigita_ v. i., to be strong, firm. _rigita fasi_, to overcome. _rigitangaini_ v. tr., to do powerfully. _rii_, _riirii_, to cry out; _olosia riilana_, cried out. S. _rii_, cicada. _ro_ 1. v. tr., _ro suli_, to obey, listen to. _ro_ 2. numeral, two, used only in composition; forms part of pers. pronoun _goro_, etc.; _ro si doo_, two things; _e ro mwane_, two men. S. _ro_. _ro_ 3. numeral, two, used with nouns of relationship; _ro mamana_; _ro mwai sasina_. _ro_ 4. ending of pers. pronoun _daro_; _gamoro_. _ro_ 2. _rodo_ night; _fe rodo_, a night; _rodo fi dao_, till nightfall. S. _rodo_. _rogi_ yesterday; used with locative _i_, _i rogi_. _rongo_; _fafurongo_, v. i., to listen to, to be a disciple; n. a disciple. S. _qaarongo_. _rorodoa_ adj., dark, used also as n., darkness. _rodo_. _roroi_ v. tr., to strengthen. S. _roro'i_. _rua_ numeral, two; _e rua_. S. _rua_. _ruana_ ordinal, second, second time; _gera ruana gera_, their fellows. _ruarua_, _tan ruarua_, to be midway. _ruru_ (_gu_) 1. n. bosom, breast. _ruru_; 2. _ruru kore_, an avalanche. S. _ruru kore_. _ruta_ n. dialect. _ruu_ v. i., to enter. _ruula_ v. n., entry. S _sae_ 1. v. tr., to say, speak, tell, read; _sae isingana_, to finish speaking. _saetana_, it is said. S. _sae_. _sae_ 2. adv. that, in reported speech. _saea_ adv. in order that, that so; _saea o lea mai fuana_, is it that you have come for this? denotes the subjunctive, _safali_ v. tr., to be equipped with. _saga_ v. i., to proceed; _saga tafa_ to proceed out of. _sagali_, _sasagali_, v. tr., to attack. _sai_ 1. n., place, duty, piece; _sai i nonigu_, my duty; _sai oe_, your duty; with _ai_ 1. _sai ai na_, that one I mean; _tani saiai_, those which, in explanations. _sai_; 2. _sai gano_, on the ground. S. _hai_. 2. _saitama_ (_gu_) v. tr., to know; _gu langi si saitamana_, I do not know; _saitama dooa_, knowledge. _sako_ v. tr., to catch. Mota _sakau_. _salo_ n. cloud, storm; _salo uruuru_, white fleecy cloud. _saloa_ adj., stormy. S. _salo_. _salofi_ v. tr., to prepare, clear a path, sweep. _samai_ v. tr., to fit on, to pair with. S. _sama_. _samola_ n. pride, overbearing, _sangoni_ v. tr., to feed, nourish. S. _sangoni_. _sao_ sago palm, thatch. S. _sa'o_. _sara_ beach, shore. _sarii_ a maiden; _geni sarii_; _too ni sarii_, to be unmarried. _sarofaia_ adj., gentle; harmless, blameless; _too sarofaia_, quiet, _sarufi_ v. tr., to burn. _sasala_ adv., up, upwards; adj. light. S. _sa'asala_. _sasalu_ v. i., to start, arise. _sasalungaini_ v. tr., to collect, make ready. _sasara_ 1. (_gu_) n., limb, branch, member. S. _sasara_. _sasara_ 2. v. i., to warm oneself at a fire, _sasi_ 1. (_gu_) n., brother, sister; _sasigu_, my brother. _sasina_ n., of relationship; _ro mwai sasina_, two brothers. S. _'asi_. _sasi_ 2. to desire, used with _fua_; _sasi fua_, to desire; _sasi diena fua_, to love a person. _saso_ sun. _sasoai_ v. tr., to expose to the sun, dry. S. _sato_. _sasu_ 1. v. i., to smoke, of a fire. 2. n., smoke; _rage sasu_, to be angry; _rage sasua_, anger. S. _sasu_. _sata_ (_gu_) n., name; _te satana_, his name only; _ati satamu_, what is your name? with pers. pronoun, friend; _sata nau_, my friend. _sasata_ v. i., to be friendly with. S. _sata_. _sau_ 1. v. i., to kill; _sau mwane_, to commit murder; _sau mwanea_, murder. _saungi_ v. tr., to kill, to be ill of. S. _sau_. _sau_ 2. v. i., to become; _sau ana mwane_, to become man. _saufini_ 1. v. tr., to turn away, to hide. 2. adv. secretly, _saulafi_ evening. S. _saulehi_. _saumala_ adv., granted that, even supposing. _saungaini_ v. tr., to make, construct. _se_ n., here: used with locative _i_; _i se_, at the place; _i sena_, at that place, there. _seka_, _seseka_, v. tr., to rend, tear. _sesele_ harlot. _si_ 1. negative, not; _gu si saea_, I do not know; _langi_ may precede, _gu langi si saea_; _e langi nau gu si lea_, I am not going; follows the particles _ka_, _ko_. _si_ 2. article, a part, a piece, any; _si fou_, a stone; _si mangs_, _uta_, what time? _na_ may be prefixed, _na si baea taa ne_, what words? _si doo gu saea na_, the thing (that which) I said; _a _si Eaea_, the Word; is more definite and particular in meaning than _na_. U. _masi_. _si_. 3. trans. suff. to verbs; _ada_, _adasi_. _si_. 4. genitive; _ofu si doo_, bundles. _sie-_ (_gu_) n. used as preposition, to, towards, at, at the house of; _lea go siena_, go to him; _siena ere_, at the fire. S. _sie_. _sifo_ v. i., to go down; _o sifo go_; you go down. S. _siho_. _sikeraini_, v. tr., to free from, cast off. S. _sikera'ini_. _siko_ locust. _sina_, _sinasina_, v. i., to shine; _fe bubulu sinasina_, a bright star, n. light; _sinasinana_, its light. Mota _singa_. _sinali_, moon, month. _sinalitaini_, v. tr., to enlighten. S. _sineli_ moonlight, _sinamaaru_ n., lightning; _sinamaaru ka qangafia_, the lightning 'roared.' _sinatai_ v. tr., to keep from, beware of, guard. _siqa_ numeral, eight; _e siqa_. _siqana_ ordinal, eighth, the eighth time. S. _siwe_. _siramo_ used with prep. _fua_, _fonosi_, to resist, compel. S. _ramo_. _sisime_ a gnat. S. _sime_. _siu_ 1. v. i., to wash, bathe; _siu abu_, to baptize. _siufi_ v. tr. _siula_ v. n., washing, bathing. _siu_, _sisiu_ 2. v. i,, to be conceived. _soe_, _sosoe_, v. i., to call out, v. tr., to ask for, name; _soea satana_, ask his name. _soefataia_, ecclesia, church (late use). _sofi_ v. tr., to find. _sofili_ v. tr., to collect, choose. S. _so'ohi_. _sogoni_ v. tr., to gather, reap. _sogonila_ v. n., gather, reap. Mota. _sogon_. _soi_, _sosoi_, v. tr., to call; _soi ledi_, to question. S. _soi_. _sua_; 1. _qaisuasuafi_, to meet. S. _su'e_. _sua_, _suasua_ 2. n., dung; _suasuae ano_, dung, _subi_ a club. S. _supi_. _suda_ v. i., to root, of pigs. S. _sude_. _sufi_ v. tr., to anoint, to rub, to shave with a razor. S. _suhi_. _suge_, _susuge_ v. tr., to deceive; _suge fafi_, to accuse; _qalaa susuge_, to accuse falsely. _suli_ (_nau_) prep., after, according to, used of motion towards; the locative _i_ may precede. S. _suli_. _sulitalaa_ adj., safe, free. _sulu_ n., oil, liquid. S. _sulu_. _sulufou_ 1. mound of rocks, stone wall; _ui sulufou_, to build a mound (for a tomb). _Sulufou_ 2. an artificial islet near Ataa Cove, North Malaita. _sunga_, _sungaini_, _sungataini_ v. tr., to affirm, maintain, persuade, _sungi_ v. i., to make a noise, be glad. _sungia_ v. n., a cry, a noise. _Suraina_ artificial islet South of Ataa Cove; original home of Lau-speaking people in Port Adam. _surakena_; _bae surakena_, to prompt, _susu_ (_gu_) 1. n., breast, 2. v. i., to suck the breast, to have children at the breast. S. _susu_. _susu_ 3. v. i., to be firm; _susu too_, to be steadfast. S. _susu_. _susu_ 4. v. i., to stretch out; _susu aba_, stretch out the arm. S. _susu_. _susui_ v. tr., to touch with the fingers, to set on a stick. _susubi_ n. a dry stick, a horn (late use). _susuli_ v. tr., to know, understand, be aware of; _ati susulia_, who knows? I can't say. _susia_, adj. unfruitful, not bearing fruit. _suu_ 1. a harbour. S. _su'u_. _suu_ 2. used with prep, _fafi_; _suu fafi_, to clothe, cover. _suula_ v. n., clothing, cloak. _suu_ 3. v. i., to set, of heavenly bodies, to dive, go down, sink. _suula_ v. n., a setting. S. _suu_. T _ta_ 1. numeral; one, a certain one, at all; just, only, _eta_ one; used as article, a, an, _ta si fou_, one rock; _na tasi fou_, one rock; _ta sala nia_, a friend of his; _ta si doo_, anything; _ta ola lau_, a different canoe; _ta bali aba_, one hand, the other hand; _e langi si suu ana ta toongi_, not clothed in any clothing; _ta sasina ta ai_, a man's brother; _ta ro ai_, only two people; used with the numerals, _ta ro si lio_, two minds; _ta ro tangale_ penny, two hundred pence; may precede _fe_, _tefuana ta fe uo_, every hill; _ta ro fe lamua_, just two doves; _ni_ may be added, _ta ni aiai_, some other. S. _ta'a_; Rotuma _ta_; cf. Florida, _sakai_, M. L. p. 524. Wango _ta_ M. L. p. 511. _ta_ 2. adv. connects, resumes narrative, and, then. _ta_ 3. ending of verbal noun, seen in root _afuta_ meaning all, and used only with suff. pron.; _afutagera_, all of them. S. _ta_. _ta_ 4. adv. added to _sui_, _sui ta_, thereupon; follows negative _langi_, _langi ta_, or. _ta_; 5. _ta mone_, perhaps. _taa_ 1. interrog. pron. what? _si taa na_, what is it? S. _taa_. _taa_ 2. v. i., to be bad, evil. _taala_ v. n., evil; _ade taala_, evil doing. S. _ta'a_. _taba_ with suff. _ani_, _tabaani_, v. tr., to destroy, remove. S. _tapa_. _tae_ v. tr., to lift up. S. _ta'e_. _tafa_ adv., out; _bae tafa_, to speak out. _tafangaini_ v. tr., _sae tafangaini_, to speak out. S. _taha_. _tafangi_ v. tr., to understand; _liona e tafangia_, he understood it. _tafe_, a bed, bench, barn, bier. S. _tahe_. _tafi_ v. i., to flee. _tafila_ v. n., flight. S. _tahi_. _tafo_ 1. v. tr., to catch fish; _tafo ge ia_. _tafo_ 2. v. tr., to purchase; _tafoa_ v. n., a bought person, servant. S. _taho_. _tafua_ dung heap. S. _alilehu_. _tafusi_ v. tr., to strain; _gae tafusi_. _taga_ 1. v. i., to scatter, throw away. _tagaani_ v. tr. _taga_ 2. v. tr., to lay out, spread. _taga_ 3. v. i., to sprout, burst into leaf. S. _taka_. _tagala_ 1. v. i., to be lost. _tagalaini_, _tagalangaini_ v. tr., to drive away, cause to be lost. _tagalaa_ adj., promiscuously, _ala tagalaa_, feed here and there. _tagala_ 2. adj., irreverent; _soe tagala_, take one's name in vain, _tataga_. _tagalo_ v. i., to be wandering. _tagalola_ adj., overgrown. S. _takalo_. _tagaloloa_ n., dust. _tagesi_ v. tr., to garnish, decorate, adorn. _tai_ 1. numeral, one; _agala mana tai_, eleven; _taifili_, alone. Wango. _tai_. _tai_ 2. v. tr., to mend. _taila_ v. n., a patch, seam. _tai_ 3. trans. suff. to verb; _goni_, _gonitai_; _olitai_ participle. _taifili_ (_a_) alone; _taifili gera_, they alone. S. _hili_. _taini_ trans. suff. to verb; _foaa_, _foaalaini_. S. _ta'ini_. _taingaini_ v. tr., to lay up, store up. _take_, _tatake_, v. i., to stand; _takefonosi_, to guard. S. _ta'e_. _takedila_ v. tr., to cause to hit, knock. _takufi_ v. tr., to receive. S. _takuhi_. _tala_ 1. way, path. S. _tala_. _tala_ 2. (_gu_) n., place, room; _nao talagu_, lead the way for me; _roo talai fangala_, work for food. S. _tala_. _tala_ 3. with prefix _ma_, _matala_, only, alone. S. _tala_ 4. _talaa_ v. i., to shine, of sun. _talae_ v. i., to begin, to become; _talae na ne_, from this (that) time forth. _talaela_, v. n., beginning. S. _tala'ae_. _talai_, _talani_, partic., wantonly, for no reason. S. _tale'i_. _talatala_ v. i., to be diligent. _talo_, with prefix _aini_; _ainitalongaini_, to proclaim. S. _talo_. _talu_ v. i., to sprinkle; _talu fafi_. S. _danu_. _tama-_ (_gu_), used with _sae_ to know; _nau gu sae tamana_. I know (it). _tani_ some; _tani oto ni saiai_, some people. _tangafulu_, numeral, ten, used only in counting; _e tangafulu_. _tangafulu ana_ tenth, for the tenth time. S. _tangahulu_. _tangalau_ numeral, one hundred; _e tangalau_; _tangale doo_, one hundred things. S. _tangalau_. _taofai_, _tataofai_ v. i., to stumble. _taraina_ today, now, bye and bye. _tarakaukau_ a bramble. _kakau_. _tarau_ v. i., to be continuous, traditional. _taraungaini_ v. tr., to do continuously. S. _tarau_. _taru_ a chamber. S. _duru_. _tasa_ v. i., to be too much, used in comparison; _nia baita tasaa ana_, it is bigger than it. _tasala_ v. n., _ro fe tasala_, twice as much, _tasaa_ adj. excessive. _tasaliu_ v. i., to be in excess, exceedingly. _tata_ adjectival prefix; _tatagwelu_, headlong. S. _tata_. _tatabi_; _tatabi i tala_, a bifurcation of the path. _tatae_ v. i., to rise, arise; _tatae oli_, _tatae olila_, resurrection. _tataea_ v. n., a getting up, a steep place. S. _ta'e_. _tataga_ v. i., _bae tataga_, to speak blasphemously. _tatagala_ adj., _bae tatagala_, to speak blasphemously. _tatagwelu_ adj., headlong. S. _tataqelu_. _tatale_ v. tr., to uncover, reveal. _tatao_ v. i., to be flat, on one's back. _tau_ 1. v. i., to wash; _tau aba_, to wash hands. _taufi_ v. tr. _tau_ 2. v. i., to be far off; be a long time; _too ka tau_, _too ka tau_, for ever and ever. S. _ha'atau_. _te_ 1. numeral, one, the same, a certain one; _te ni ai_, a certain person; _da tefe bae ana te si baela_, they all said the same thing; _te si na doo_, everything; _te taifilia inia_, he only; used of units (cf. Sa'a _ata_), _te fiu fe doo_, only seven things; _te ai ma te ai_, one by one; _too te ai_, singly; equivalent to and; _te na Mwela_, and the Son. Florida _keha_, one, Kingsmill _te_, M. L. p. 246. _te_ 2. n., mother; _ni te nau_, my mother. _telana_, n., of relationship, _ro mwai telana_, mother and child, wife. S. _teitei_. _tea_ v. tr., to utter, speak; _e tea tesi baela nena_, speaking the same words. S. _tea_. _tefe_, _te_ 1. _fe_ 2.; _da tefe bae ana tesi baela_, they all (only) said the same thing; _tefe mwela matala_, an only son. _tefou_ with one accord, together, always. _tefua_ adj., irreverently, haphazard. _tefliana_ all, every, _ta tefuana tani_ too, all peoples; _te_ 1. _fu_ _tegelai_ partic., lost, dropped. S. _tekela'i_. _teo_, _teteo_ v. i., to lie down, sleep; _teo bole_, to dream; _teo bolea_, _teo bolela_, v. n., dream. _teteola_ adj., sleepy; _maada e teteola_, their eyes were sleepy. _teqa_ v. i., to be tall, high. _teqala_ adj.; _take teqala_, to stand erect. S. _tewa_. _terefi_ v. tr., to move as a fan, to fan. S. _tetere_. _tero_ v. i., to be ulcerous, lame, halt, withered. _tete_; 1. _manata tete_, to be anxious. _tete_; 2. _bubu tete_, to look fixedly. _teu_ a wooden bowl, a measure. _ti_ interrogative pronoun, sing, who? pl. _gerati_; _ti gera_, one of them; with pers. article a, _ati gera_, who of them? _ati satamu_, what is your name? S. _tei_. _tobi_ v. tr., to gather, garner; n. a chamber. _toda_ v. i., to gain, get, collect; _toda bata_, a tax gatherer. _toe_ v. tr., to strike against, to desire; _liona e toea_, he desired it. _tofu_, _totofu_ v. tr., to chop. _tofuli_ y. tr., to build, to chop down.S. _tohu_. _tokekela_ (_gu_) n., judgment. _tolafa_ (_gu_) n., way, method, custom. S. _tolaha_. _toli_ down; _ada toli_, look down; _dau tolingi_, to cast down; _toli fanga_ to fast, _toli fangala_, fasting. _tolingi_ v. tr., to apportion, give share to at a feast. _tolia_ v. n., a portion at a feast. S. _toli_. _tolo_ a hill, the hill country; _toloe fera_, a hill. S. _tolo_. _tona_ v. i.; _liona e tona_, he was pricked at the heart, afraid. _too_ 1. (_gu_) v. tr., to hit; _sato toona_, the sun struck it; _too matafana_, to know; _manata toona_, know it; _too ani_, understand; _too meme_, hit and break in pieces; 2. to possess, have, _too ai_, to have relations. _tooa_ v; n., _lio tooa_, wisdom. _toonala_ v. n., _manata toonala_, thought. _too_ 3. v. i., to live, dwell, be; _too laulau_, to be whole; _too salaa_, to be a stranger, _too ka tau_, for ever. S. _'o'o_. _toola_ (_gu_) v. n., way, fashion. _too_ 4. people, race; _na too_. _too_ 5. prefixed to numerals, at a time; _too te ai_, one at a time. S. _too_. _too_ 6. numeral, one thousand. S. _to'o_. _toongi_ 1. v. i., to clothe; n., clothes. S. _tooni_. _toongi_ 2. v. tr., to pack, load, place. S. _tooni_. _toromi_ v. tr., to pierce. S. _toromi_. _tosi_ v. tr., to throw away. S. _'asi_. _tosiomelamwane_ a parable, proverb. _totolo_ v. tr., to raise the voice. S. _totolo_. _tou_, _totou_, v. i., to be little; _manata tou_, to make little of; adj. little; _ni ai tou_, humbly. _toula_ v. n., _manata toula_, humility; _toula_ (_gu_) in youth. _toula-_ (_na_), i _toulana asi_, on the surface of the sea. U _ua_ adv., still, yet; _ua mai inao_, from of old; _e mae ua na_, already dead; _ua mai ana lua_, from the time of the flood, _ua inao_, old, aforetime; _ua go i uarodo_, while still dark; _e langi ua_, not yet, still wanting. S. _ue_. _uarodo_ dawn, morning. _rodo_. _ubuubu_ v. i., to be thick, deep. S. _'upu_. _uda_ v. i., to be new, fresh. _udu_, _uduudu_, v. i., to drip, n., a drop. S. _'udu_. _udufa_ v. n., a dropping, drops. _ueli_ v. tr., to happen adversely to. _ufi_ 1. v. tr., to blow; _ufi bungu_, to blow a conch shell. _ufiani_ v. tr., to breathe into, inspire. S. _'uhi_. _ufi_ 2. a yam. S. _uhi_. _ufi_ 3. v. tr., to draw water. _uga_ v. i,, to spill, to be wasted. _ugani_ v. tr., to grumble at. S. _uqe_. _ui_, _uiani_ v. tr., to throw, cast. S. _'u'i_. _ulu_ v. i., to wade. _ulufaini_ v. tr., to carry a person over water. S. _ulu_. _ulufi_ v. tr., to vex, grieve. S. _unuhi_. _ulunga_, _urunga_, to serve as a pillow; n., a pillow. _urungai_ v. tr., to recline the head. S. _ulunge_. _umu_ oven. S. _umu_. _unua_ n., folk lore, a yarn. S. _unu_. _unga_ (_gu_) n., skin. _uo_ hill; _fe uo_. S. _uo_. _uri_ 1. v. tr., to tread, tread on; _uri sufu_, to tread through. _urila_ v. n., tread, step. S. _uri_. _uri_, _urina_, 2. adv., like, thus; _nia kafi uri_, he spake thus, _rao uri_, to do like, to tend, _ele uri_, to desire. S. _uri_. _uria_ adj., like, used as adv., _toolada ka uria alafana_, their way shall be like as if. _urii_ adv., just now. _uruuru_; _si salo uruuru_, fleecy cloud. _usi_ (_nau_) prep., over, for, on behalf of. _usia_ n., a market; _ifuli usia_, in the market place. S. _usie_. _usu_ v. tr., to wipe, anoint. S. _usu_. _usungaia_ n., commandment. S. _usunge'i_. _uta_ 1. n., rain; v. i., to rain; _na uta ka uta_, the rain rains. Florida _uha_. _uta_ 2. adv., interrog. how? _si manga uta_, what time? _nia kafi uta_, what will he do? S. _u'e_. _uwa_ v. tr., to lift; _uwa maa_, to lift the eye. S. _uwe_. 
37938	----	CHINESE POEMS TRANSLATED BY CHARLES BUDD HENRY FROWDE OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO AND MELBOURNE 1912 OXFORD: HORACE HART PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY _PREFACE_ _The initiative of this little book was accidental. One day in the early part of last summer, feeling weary of translating commercial documents, I opened a volume of Chinese poetry that was lying on my desk and listlessly turned over the pages. As I was doing so my eye caught sight of the phrase, 'Red rain of peach flowers fell.' That would be refreshing, I said to myself, on such a day as this; and then I went on with my work again. But in the evening I returned to the book of Chinese poetry and made a free translation of the poem in which I had seen the metaphor quoted above. The translation seemed to me and some friends pleasantly readable; so in leisure hours I have translated some more poems and ballads, and these I now venture to publish in this volume, thinking that they may interest readers in other lands, and also call forth criticism that will be useful in preparing a larger volume which I, or some better qualified scholar, may publish hereafter; for it can hardly be said that the field of Chinese poetry has been widely explored by foreign students of the Chinese language._ _Many of the translations in this book are nearly literal, excepting adaptations to meet the exigencies of rhyme and rhythm; but some are expanded to enable readers to understand what is implied, as well as actually written, in the original; for, after all, the chief aim of the translator of poetry should be to create around the mind of the reader the sensory atmosphere in which the mind of the poet moved when he wrote the poem. Whether I have attained a measure of success in such a very difficult task must be decided by the readers of these translations._ _It should be borne in mind by students more or less familiar with the Chinese language that there are many versions of the stories and legends related in these poems, and these versions, again, have been variously interpreted by Chinese poets. A little reflection of this kind will often save a critic from stumbling into difficulties from which it is not easy to extricate himself._ _A few notes are given at the end of each poem to explain historical names, &c., but not many other notes are required as the poems explain themselves. Indeed, the truth of the saying, 'One touch of nature makes the whole world kin,' has been impressed on my mind deeply by this little excursion into the field of Chinese poetry, for the thoughts and words of such poems as the 'Journey Back,' 'A Maiden's Reverie,' 'Only a Fragrant Spray,' 'The Lady Lo-Fu, 'Conscripts leaving for the Frontier,' 'The River by Night in Spring,' 'Reflections on the Brevity of Life,' 'The Innkeeper's Wife,' 'A Soldier's Farewell to his Wife,' &c., show us that human nature two or three thousand years ago differed not a whit from human nature as it is to-day._ _CHARLES BUDD._ _Tung Wen Kwan Translation Office,_ _Shanghai, March, 1912._ CONTENTS A FEW REMARKS ON THE HISTORY AND CONSTRUCTION OF CHINESE POETRY THE TECHNIQUE OF CHINESE POETRY BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES OF A FEW OF THE MORE EMINENT CHINESE POETS _POEMS_ _Only a Fragrant Spray_ _The River by Night in Spring_ _The Beauty of Snow_ _A Maiden's Reverie_ _A Song of the Marches_ _The Cowherd and the Spinning-Maid_ _The Old Soldier's Return_ _On the Lake near the Western Mountains_ _The Happy Farmer_ _An Old House Unroofed by an Autumn Gale_ _The Lament of the Ladies of the Siang River_ _The Waters of the Mei-Pei_ _The Swallow's Song_ _Farewell to a Comrade_ _Beauty's Fatal Snare_ _A Reverie in a Summer-house_ _The Flower-Seller_ _The Red-Flower Pear-Tree_ _A Song of Princess Tze-Yuh_ _Distaste for Official Life_ _The Fragrant Tree_ _A Song of the Snow_ _The Old Temple among the Mountains_ _A Soldier's Farewell to his Wife_ _The Wanderer's Return_ _The Pleasures of a Simple Life with Nature_ _Listening to the Playing on a Lute in a Boat_ _Reflections on the Past_ _A Lowly Flower_ _On returning to a Country Life_ _The Brevity of Life_ _Conscripts leaving for the Frontier_ _Estimating the Value of a Wife_ _The Lady Lo-Fu_ _An Autumn Evening in the Garden_ _Muh-Lan_ _The Old Fisherman_ _Midnight in the Garden_ _Reflections on the Brevity of Life_ _So-fei gathering Flowers_ _A Farewell_ _The Khwun-ming Lake_ _Reflections_ _Pride and Humility_ _Dwellers in the Peach Stream Valley_ _The Five Sons_ _The Journey Back_ _The Gallant Captain and the Innkeeper's Wife_ _The Lady Chao-Chiün_ _Night on the Lake_ _The Fisherman's Song_ _The Students' Ramble_ _The Priest of T'ien Mountain_ _Maidens by the River-side_ _The Poet-Beggar_ A FEW REMARKS ON THE HISTORY AND CONSTRUCTION OF CHINESE POETRY The earliest Chinese poems which have been preserved and handed down to posterity are contained in the 'Shi-King', or Book of Poetry. Translations of this book were first made by Roman Catholic missionaries, and later by Dr. Legge whose translation, being in English, is better known. The Shi-King contains three hundred odd poetical compositions, or odes, as they might more correctly be described, most of them being set to music and sung on official and public occasions. But many more odes than those in the Shi-King existed at the dawn of Chinese literature. Some native scholars think that several thousand odes were composed by princes, chiefs, and other men of the numerous petty States which were included in Ancient China; and that criticism and rejection by later literary compilers, especially Confucius, reduced the number deemed worthy of approval to 305, which make up the Shi-King. It is, however, quite impossible to say how many odes were composed in that early period; many more than those preserved in the Shi-King undoubtedly were made, and we can only regret that, when later scholars began to collect and criticize these earliest poetical effusions of their ancestors, political and other motives induced them to prune or lop off whole branches of the nascent tree of poetry with such unsparing hands. Fragments of a few early odes not contained in the Shi-King remain, but such fragments are not numerous. As to the value of these early odes critics differ widely. By some Western writers they have been compared favourably with the Psalms, the Homeric poems, &c., while other writers think that they do not rise above the most primitive simplicity. Some of the odes are undoubtedly of considerable poetical value; and all critics must acknowledge that the Shi-King contains a great deal of valuable information respecting the States of Ancient China, and the people who inhabited them in the earliest stages of their existence. It has been necessary to give this brief account of the Shi-King because it has loomed so largely in the eyes of students of Chinese literature as to exclude from their vision the vast field of Chinese poetry in which hundreds of famous Chinese poets have, at different periods, wandered, and mused, and sung, for two or three thousand years, and their wanderings are described and their musings sung in thousands of poems which are unknown to foreign students of Chinese literature. They have heard of the Shi-King, a few even have read it; but of the great poets of China, who have in a long succession appeared and done immortal work and passed away during nearly three thousand years, they know but little or nothing at all. My object in publishing this little book is to correct this false perspective, not by assailing the Shi-King, but by bringing into view a few of the poets and a few of their poems (which can only be very inadequately set forth in translations by a writer who is not a poet), and thus make a beginning in an undertaking that will be, I hope, continued and perfected by men who have more leisure and greater poetical skill and inspiration than I possess. After the compilation of the 300 odes by Confucius, there was a period of about one hundred years during which but little attention was given to the making of poetry. The earliest poetical compositions handed down after those preserved in the Shi-King are the 'Li-Sao' by Küh-Yuen, of the Tsu State, 280 B.C., several poems by Su-Wu and Li-ling, and nineteen poems by unknown writers. All these were composed during the Han Dynasty or earlier, and they are regarded as poetical compositions of great worth by native scholars, although they do not conform to the rules which have guided Chinese poets in writing poetry since the T'ang Dynasty. Indeed, one commentator has described their perfection as 'the seamless robe of heaven', i.e. the dome of heaven--the sky. These early poetical compositions are marked by greater simplicity of language, deeper feeling, and more naturalness than the poetry of later dynasties, which is often cramped by the highly elaborate technique introduced by the poets of the T'ang Dynasty. 'The Journey Back,' 'Only a Fragrant Spray,' 'The Swallow's Song,' 'The Innkeeper's Wife,' 'A Song of Tze-Yuh,' 'A Maiden's Reverie,' 'Su Wu's Farewell to his Wife,' 'Reflections on the Brevity of Life,' are specimens of this period. During the later Han Dynasty, especially in the reign of Kien-An (A.D. 196), and in the reign of Hwang-T'su (A.D. 220) of the Wei Dynasty, several poets of conspicuous ability arose, and their compositions compare favourably with the three hundred odes and the ancient poems following the odes. From the Wei Dynasty to the T'sin Dynasty, and on through the 'Luh-Chao' (Six Dynasties--the Wu, Tsing, Sung, T'si, Liang, and Chen, covering the period from A.D. 220 to 587), one poet after another gained an ascendancy and each found many imitators; but the poetry of this period is more elaborate and florid than deep and natural. From the Chen Dynasty (A.D. 557-587) to the end of the Sui Dynasty (A.D. 589-618) there was but little good poetry produced: it was, in fact, a time of literary decadence which continued even into the beginning of the T'ang Dynasty. Then a change took place, and great poets arose who formed the T'ang School of Poetry, and the poetical technique of that school has been more or less closely copied by all writers of poetry to this day; and during the most flourishing years of the T'ang Dynasty the production of poetry was so rich and abundant that that period is regarded by the Chinese as the Golden Age of Poetry. One native commentator has likened the development of poetry to a tree: 'The three hundred odes of the Shi-King may be regarded as the root: the poems of Su-Wu and Li-ling as the first sprout from the root, and those of the Kien-An period as the increasing growth of the sprout into a stem, while the poems of the Six Dynasties are the first branches and leaves; then in the T'ang Dynasty the branches and leaves became more and more abundant, and flowers and fruit appeared crowning the noble tree of perfect poetry.' He then goes on to say: 'Students of poetry should carefully study the matter, and form, and style of the poetry of this period, as they show the source and development, the root and the full-grown flourishing tree of poetry. The root must not be lost sight of in the profusion of branches and leaves, that is, students must not read the poems of the T'ang period and neglect those of ancient times; both must be studied together in order to understand the poetry of the later periods.' Another native critic writes: 'The poets of the T'ang Dynasty developed a style of their own in poetry different from those that preceded it.' The leading poets of the T'ang period had ability to seize all that was best in ancient poetry and embody it in a style of their own which is a natural development and not a slavish imitation. The most prominent among the men of genius who effected this great change were Chen Tze-ang, Chang Kiu-ling, Li-Peh, Wei Ying-wuh, Liu Tsong-Yuen, Tu-Fu, Han-Yü, Tsen-T'san, Wang-Wei, Wang-Han, Li-Kiao and Chang-Shoh; and of these Li-Peh is regarded by all Chinese as a heaven-born genius--'an Immortal banished to earth,' while Tu Fu is the scholarly poet, deeply versed in all branches of Chinese literature, which gives depth, and breadth, and style, and infinite variety to his poetical compositions, which, however, though very numerous, form but a part of his contributions to the literature of his country. The glory of the T'ang poetry dimmed somewhat towards the end of the dynasty; but during the Song Dynasty (A.D. 960-1278), which followed the brief epoch of the Five Dynasties (A.D. 907-960), Eo Yang Siu, Wang-An-shih, Hwang Ting-kien, Ch'ao Pu-chi, Luh-Yu, and other poets added fresh lustre to the glory of Chinese literature by producing many poetical compositions which could not be omitted from a large anthology containing all the best Chinese poems; but in this small book space for two or three only can be found. It should be remembered that the great poets of the T'ang and later dynasties did not always follow the new poetical technique of the T'ang Dynasty. Many of their best poems are written in the ancient style; and I have written 'ancient style' against a few of such poems among the translations, but not against all of them. An introduction to Chinese poetry, reviewing extensively its rise and progress, the style of each period, and the characteristics of the work of each poet, would fill a large volume--several volumes indeed would hardly suffice for an exhaustive review of such a vast field of work. But the very brief review contained in the preceding pages will enable readers to see that the three hundred odes are by no means the whole of Chinese poetry; they are, indeed, only the beginning--the source of a great river whose countless branches, some deep and pure, others shallow and sparkling, have flowed down the ages, fertilizing and beautifying every period of Chinese life and thought, and producing a vast reservoir of poetry which has inspired many in every generation with higher sentiments of nature, country, love, friendship, and literature. As this book of translations is chiefly intended for readers who do not understand the Chinese language, no attempt has been made to insert the Chinese characters for the names, &c., printed in the Romanized form; but, following the advice of friends who are well versed in Chinese themselves, I hope, hereafter, to publish a small volume containing the Chinese text of the translated poems only, with a few notes which may be useful to beginners. To reprint the Chinese text and notes with the English translations in one volume would add considerably to the cost of the book, while only a comparatively small number of readers--students of the Chinese language--would find the Chinese text and notes useful. THE TECHNIQUE OF CHINESE POETRY Form of 7-character Lüh poem beginning in the Ping tone: A. Ping ping tseh tseh tseh ping ping Tseh tseh ping ping tseh tseh ping Tseh tseh ping ping ping tseh tseh Ping ping tseh tseh tseh ping ping Ping ping tseh tseh ping ping tseh Tseh tseh ping ping tseh tseh ping Tseh tseh ping ping ping tseh tseh Ping ping tseh tseh tseh ping ping. Form of 7-character Lüh poem beginning in the Tseh tone: B. Tseh tseh ping ping tseh tseh ping Ping ping tseh tseh tseh ping ping Ping ping tseh tseh ping ping tseh Tseh tseh ping ping tseh tseh ping Tseh tseh ping ping ping tseh tseh Ping ping tseh tseh tseh ping ping Ping ping tseh tseh ping ping tseh Tseh tseh ping ping tseh tseh ping. Form of 5-character Lüh poem beginning in the Ping tone: C. Ping ping tseh tseh ping Tseh tseh tseh ping ping Tseh tseh ping ping tseh Ping ping tseh tseh ping Ping ping ping tseh tseh Tseh tseh tseh ping ping Tseh tseh ping ping tseh Ping ping tseh tseh ping. Form of 5-character Lüh poem beginning in the Tseh tone: D. Tseh tseh tseh ping ping Ping ping tseh tseh ping Ping ping ping tseh tseh Tseh tseh tseh ping ping Tseh tseh ping ping tseh Ping ping tseh tseh ping Ping ping ping tseh tseh Tseh tseh tseh ping ping. In order to understand this arrangement of characters, it should be borne in mind that Chinese characters are distinguished not only by the phonetic sounds, but also by tones resembling musical notes. Of these only four are generally recognized in poetical compositions: (1) The Ping-sheng, or low and even note. (2) The Shang-sheng, or sharp and ascending note. (3) The Khü-sheng, or clear and far-reaching note. (4) The Ruh-sheng, or straight and abruptly finished note. These tones help to distinguish words which have the same phonetic sound but different meanings. For instance, the word-- 'li' (Ping-sheng) = black. 'li' (Shang-sheng) = village. 'li' (Khü-sheng) = sharp. 'li' (Ruh-sheng) = strength. In written Chinese each of these words is distinguished by a different character, and the tone is, therefore, of secondary importance; but occasionally a character has two tones--a ping and a khü, for instance, and then each tone indicates a difference of meaning, or distinguishes the use of the word as a substantive from its use as a verb. But in poetry these tones are used to make rhythm as well as to express meaning, and when used for this purpose they are divided into ping and tseh, the ping representing the ping or low, even tone, and the tseh the other three tones, Shang, Khü, and Ruh. This brief explanation will enable the reader, I think, to perceive what is regarded by Chinese as the rhythm of a poem. In the diagrams given above, the first line consists of two ping tones, followed by three tseh tones, which are followed by two ping tones; and the arrangement of the characters in each line in terms of ping and tseh forms the rhythm of Chinese poetry. When compared, it will be seen that there are lines or couplets which are in contrast to, or harmonize with, other lines, &c. But it is not necessary that the tones of all the characters in each couplet should agree, excepting the first and last lines which always agree exactly--tone for tone. In the other lines, the tones of the first, third, and fifth characters in a seven-character line, and the first and third in a five-character line, may be varied--ping for tseh, or tseh for ping; but the second, fourth, and sixth characters in seven-character poems, and the second and fourth in five-character poems must not be changed; when the ping tone should be used it must be used, the tseh may not be substituted for it, and when the tseh should be used it must be used, the ping may not be substituted for it. And when the opening tone of the first line is a ping, the opening tone of the line following must be tseh, and vice versa. The following two poems are perfect specimens of the 'Tsüeh', or poem of four lines, which may be regarded as the unit of Chinese poetical composition. The first specimen shows a 'tsüeh' beginning in the Ping tone; and the second specimen a 'tsüeh' beginning in the Tseh tone: (1) _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ Ch'un fung tseh ye tao Yü Kwan _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ Ku kwoh yen hwa siang i tsan _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ Shao fu puh chi kwei wei teh _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ Chao chao ying shang wang fu shan. (2) _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ Tze meh hong ch'en fuh mien lai _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ Wu ren puh tao k'un hwa hwei _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ _ts._ Hsüen tu kwan li tao ts'ien shu _ts._ _ts._ _p._ _p._ _ts._ _ts._ _p._ Tsin shi liu lang ku heo tsai As I have stated above the 'tsüeh' of four lines, whether the line is composed of five or seven characters, may be regarded as the unit of Chinese poetical composition. In order to make a 'lüh' poem four more lines, composed exactly according to the ping-tseh arrangement of tones in the tsüeh, are added to the tsüeh; while a 'p'ai-lüh' poem is made by continuing this process beyond eight lines. Besides the ping and tseh arrangement of tones in each line to form the metre or rhythm, the final characters of the first, second, and fourth lines of the tsüeh may rhyme with each other; but these rhymes are also controlled by the ping-tseh tones. For instance, in the specimen of a perfect tsüeh given above, the final characters of the first, second, and fourth lines are kwan, ts'an, and shan, and these sounds rhyme in Chinese; but it will be observed that all three words belong to the ping tone, and this is the rule generally followed in the technique of modern poetry, that is, poetry made according to the new rules introduced by the poets of the T'ang Dynasty; but in ancient poetry, words both in ping and tseh tones were used for rhymes; and poets of all periods have used both systems--ancient and modern--in their poetical compositions. The tendency in recent dynasties, however, has been to follow the elaborate technique of the modern school of poetry in which great skill in the art of poetical composition is too often more highly prized than true poetry, and consequently mere cleverness is mistaken for genius. These few remarks on the use of the ping-tseh tones in the rhythm and rhyme of Chinese poetry must not be regarded by readers as an exhaustive summary of the system, which is much more intricate than it seems, owing to many qualifying rules and conditions as to its application in relation to the other factors required to form a correct poetical composition; they will, however, suffice to give a general conception of the part played by the ping and tseh tones in the technique of Chinese poetry, especially in modern poetical compositions. But although the ping-tseh tones are indispensable to the rhythm of the modern poem, there are, as I have remarked above, other factors required to form a perfect 'tsüeh', or 'Lüh', or 'pai-lüh', and most elaborate instructions as to the use of each character or line in relation to other characters and lines in the same stanza must be mastered before a poem can be constructed that would satisfy the eye and ear, and literary standard, of the modern Chinese critic of poetry. But it must not be forgotten that the scholarly Chinese poet is just as familiar as his Western _confrère_ with the metaphor, simile, allegory, epigram, climax, and all other figures of speech which are common in the prose and poetry of a literary people; and the skilful use of these in harmony with the rigid ping-tseh rules concerning rhythm and rhyme is a task of considerable difficulty for the conscientious poet. Fortunately the ancient poets did not adhere very rigidly to technique; and not a few modern poets have in many of their compositions imitated the ancient style. Besides the tsüeh and lüh there are many poetical compositions, such as the ko, hsing, yin, tz'e, k'üh, p'ien, yong, yao, t'an, ai, yuen, and pieh--many of them of very ancient origin, which are all put under the generic term 'yoh-fu', implying that they are compositions which can be set to music and sung, chanted, recited, &c. Some of the most charming poetical compositions are found in Chinese anthologies under the above-mentioned headings; but in this brief introduction it is only possible just to call the attention of readers to them without attempting to describe the form of each separately. For the same reason I cannot attempt any description of the ancient terms fung, ya, song, &c., to which, however, translators of the Shi-King have given some attention. It is doubtful, indeed, whether the information which I can crowd into a few introductory pages will help readers to gain an insight into Chinese poetry in the making, or utterly confuse them; but I am loath to send forth the translations without an introduction, and I must, therefore, remind readers again that this introduction gives only the barest outline of the rise and progress of Chinese poetry, and of a few of the factors which are required by modern technique in the construction of poetical compositions since the revival of literature and poetry in the T'ang Dynasty. It should be observed that no attempt has been made to reproduce the technique outlined above in the English translations of Chinese poems in this book, as it would be impossible to restrict the translations to lines of five and seven words. In Chinese each character is a word of one syllable only, therefore a five-character line of poetry contains only five monosyllabic words, and a seven-character line seven monosyllabic words; but as many articles, pronouns, prepositions, auxiliary verbs, &c., which are understood in the Chinese, must be inserted in the English translation in order to connect the meaning of the five or seven monosyllabic words which form a line of Chinese poetry, it is obvious that, in most cases, the length of the line in the translation must be longer than that in the original Chinese. Some Chinese poems might be rendered into English in lines of five or seven syllables without doing much violence to the meaning of the original, but in most cases, the five or seven monosyllabic line in Chinese is translated into English far more correctly and accurately by a line of eight, ten, or more syllables, because the Chinese reader mentally inserts connecting parts of speech which must be written in English to make the grammar correct and the meaning of a line complete. BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES OF A FEW OF THE MORE EMINENT CHINESE POETS LI PEH. Li Peh (Tai Peh; Tsing Lien) lived during the T'ang Dynasty, probably from A.D. 699 to 762, and he is regarded as the most brilliant of all Chinese poets. He was connected by descent in the ninth generation with the Imperial family of the T'ang Dynasty, but was born in a remote part of the Empire now included in the Szechwan Province. When but ten years old Li Peh was familiar with poetry and other branches of literature, and, as he grew older, his ability and genius attracted the attention and praise of the highest in the land. When introduced to the Court at Chang-an, Ho Chi-chang, one of the courtiers, exclaimed:--'He is one of the immortal genii banished to earth.' For a short time, too, he was greatly favoured by the Emperor, Hsüen-Tsung, but, having incurred the enmity of the Emperor's chief concubine, he had to withdraw from the Court and relinquish all hopes of official promotion. He then travelled widely, writing many poems on the beauties of nature, and also in praise of wine and music, to the former of which he was too strongly addicted. In the later part of his life, it seems, he became involved in political intrigues, for which offence he was banished to a distant region. But in his old age he was allowed to return, and he ended his days peacefully at T'ang-t'u (a place near the modern Nankin), whose governor was a kinsman named Li Yang-ping. CHANG KIU-LING. Chang Kiu-ling (Tze Sheo) was the son of an official in the T'ang Dynasty. At a very early age he displayed great ability, and while still comparatively young, took a high literary degree (Tsintze), and then held high office under the Emperor Hsüen-Tsung, with whom he sometimes ventured to remonstrate for his licentious life. Once when all the courtiers presented valuable gifts to the Emperor on his birthday, Chang Kiu-ling presented him with a book written by himself and styled 'The Thousand Year Mirror', showing the causes of success and failure in former dynasties. His advice, however, was not seriously heeded at the time, but after his death his faithfulness was appreciated and he was ennobled and afterwards canonized by the Emperor. It is recorded by one writer that Chang Kiu-ling, when a youth, trained pigeons to carry letters to his friends. WEI YING-WUH. Wei Ying-wuh was a native of Honan during the T'ang Dynasty, and his poetical skill ranks very high even in that famous period. During the Cheng-Yuen reign (A.D. 785-804) he was appointed Prefect of Suchow, where his beneficent rule and devotion to literature called forth the gratitude and admiration of the people. SU SHI. Su Shi (Tze-Chan; Tong-Po), A.D. 1036-1101, was a native of Mei-shan in Szechwan. He won the highest literary degrees, and was advanced from one official office to another until he became a Minister of State; but, owing to political feuds and intrigues, he was degraded from his high office in the capital and sent to fill inferior posts in distant parts of the Empire, where he wrote poetry and diffused a love of literature among the people he ruled. TU FU (A.D. 712-770). Tu Fu (Tu Tze-Mei) was the son of Tu Fan-yen, a high official in the T'ang Dynasty. In the estimation of his countrymen he ranks next to Li Peh among the great poets of the Tang Dynasty, and a few critics would give him a still higher place. When Tu Fu's literary ability and poetical genius were made known to the Emperor, office and honours were bestowed on him. In the poetical composition known as the Seven-character Pai-lüh, Tu Fu is the most famous of all the poets of the T'ang Dynasty, if not of all Chinese poets. EO YANG SIU (A.D. 1017-1072). Eo Yang Siu (Yong-Shuh) was a famous scholar of the Song Dynasty; and he filled high official posts both in the capital and provinces, under the Emperor Ren-Tsong. Being a man of integrity and independence he remonstrated with his Imperial master on several occasions, and sometimes suffered temporarily for his courage. His character, however, was appreciated by the Emperor, and restoration to favour followed every temporary eclipse. After his death he was canonized as Wen Chong Kong. His literary works are numerous. SU WU (200-100 B.C.). Su Wu (Tze K'ing) lived in the Han Dynasty. When sent on a mission to the Khan of the Hsiung-nu he was seized by that ruler and ordered to renounce his allegiance to the Han Emperor; and on refusing to do this he was cast into prison. Afterwards he was banished for many years to the desert region around Lake Balkash, where he was compelled to tend the flocks of the Hsiung-nu; but he persisted in his loyalty to the Han Dynasty. On his return to China, when a grey-headed old man, he was greatly honoured by the Emperor, and his portrait was hung up in the Khi-lin Koh (Council Chamber). He is held up as a pattern of loyalty by Chinese writers. His poetical compositions are ancient but not numerous. LI LING (First Century B.C.). Li Ling was a military commander in the Han Dynasty. Given command of an army in the war against the Hsiung-nu he rashly advanced into the enemy's country with only a few thousand soldiers, who were surrounded and all but three or four hundred killed, and Li Ling was captured, and spent the rest of his life in exile. His name is mentioned in the Introduction to this book of translations. CHU KWANG-HI. Chu Kwang-hi was a soldier of the T'ang Dynasty. He passed the highest literary examinations, and was appointed a member of the Censorate by the Emperor Hsüen Tsong. CHEN TZE-ANG. A celebrated scholar of the T'ang Dynasty. He filled various official offices, but is most famous for the work he did in advancing the renaissance of literature during the T'ang Dynasty. Wang Shih, a learned writer of the same period, said that Chen Tze-ang was the most famous scholar in the Empire of that time. T'AO YUEN-MING (A.D. 365-427). T'ao T'sien (T'ao Yuen-ming) was a scholar and poet of the Song Dynasty. He was appointed Magistrate of a district, but after filling the office only a short time he resigned it and retired into private life, spending the remainder of his years in writing poetry and in musical pursuits. CHINESE POEMS _Only a Fragrant Spray_ NAME OF POET UNKNOWN (HAN DYNASTY OR EARLIER) Ah me, the day you left me Was full of weary hours; But the tree 'neath which we parted Was rich with leaves and flowers. And from its fragrant branches I plucked a tiny spray, And hid it in my bosom In memory of that day. I know the endless distance Must shut you from my view, But the flower's gentle fragrance Brings sweetest thoughts of you. And, though it's but a trifle, Which none would prize for gain, It oft renews our parting, With all the love and pain. _The River By Night in Spring_ BY CHANG POH-HSÜ In Spring the flooded river meets the tide Which from the ocean surges to the land; The moon across the rolling water shines From wave to wave to reach the distant strand. And when the heaving sea and river meet, The latter turns and floods the fragrant fields; While in the moon's pale light as shimmering sleet Alike seem sandy shores and wooded wealds. For sky and river in one colour blend, Without a spot of dust to mar the scene; While in the heavens above the full-orbed moon In white and lustrous beauty hangs serene. And men and women, as the fleeting years, Are born into this world and pass away; And still the river flows, the moon shines fair, And will their courses surely run for ay. But who was he who first stood here and gazed Upon the river and the heavenly light? And when did moon and river first behold The solitary watcher in the night? The maples sigh upon the river's bank, A white cloud drifts across the azure dome; In yonder boat some traveller sails to-night Beneath the moon which links his thoughts with home. Above the home it seems to hover long, And peep through chinks within her chamber blind; The moon-borne message she cannot escape, Alas, the husband tarries far behind! She looks across the gulf but hears no voice, Until her heart with longing leaps apace, And fain would she the silvery moonbeams follow Until they shine upon her loved one's face. 'Last night,' she murmured sadly to herself, 'I dreamt of falling flowers by shady ponds; My Spring, ah me! half through its course has sped, But you return not to your wedded bonds.' For ever onward flows the mighty stream; The Spring, half gone, is gliding to its rest; While on the river and the silent pools The moonbeams fall obliquely from the west. And now the moon descending to the verge Has disappeared beneath the sea-borne dew; While stretch the waters of the 'Siao and Siang',[1] And rocks and cliffs, in never-ending view. How many wanderers by to-night's pale moon Have met with those from whom so long apart:-- As on the shore midst flowerless trees I stand Thoughts old and new surge through my throbbing heart! [1] Two streams flowing into the Yangtze River. _The Beauty of Snow_ BY PAO-CHAO A thousand miles across the Dragon Mountains The North Wind blows the whirling flakes of snow, Until they gather on my terraced garden, And drift before the gate in furrowed row. Unlike the coloured plum and fragrant peach trees, Whose buds stretch forth to greet the warm Spring days, At dawn the snow lies in unsullied whiteness, But flees to shelter from the sun's bright rays. The peach flower and the plum flower have a beauty, Which flourish in the warmth of sun and shower; The snow's brief charm is purity and brightness, It does not claim the sun tints of the flower. _A Maiden's Reverie_ T'SIN DYNASTY, A.D. 265-419 The plum-tree's flower awakens Thoughts of my lover now, And I would pluck some blossoms And send to far Si-chow. But such a distant region The flowers might never reach, While if I go in person, How great the joy to each! I'll brush my glossy tresses, More dark than raven's plume; I'll wear my plum silk mantle, And banish tears and gloom. But where, alack, is Si-chow? Far in the North, I know; Oh, when I've crossed the river I'll ask which way to go! Ah me, the sun is setting, Si-chow is far away; The birds are homeward turning, I cannot start to-day. I'll keep an evening vigil Beneath the cedar-tree That stands outside the porch-way; My love may come to me! The jewels my hair adorning Are glistening with the dew; But still my lover tarries;-- What keeps him from my view? A gentle breeze is blowing, The night is bright as day; I'll go and gather lilies, And meet him on the way. In the early Autumn season The lotus lilies red Are in the south pool growing, And reach above my head. My thoughts on old times musing, I stoop to pluck some seeds, In their shimmering greenness As water 'mongst the reeds. I put some in my bosom, For the core is red as blood, As the heart of a true lover, When love is at the flood. Pressed to my bosom closely-- No safer place, I wot, For tokens of betrothal; And yet my love comes not! Above my head in batches The wild geese northward hie, And they will pass o'er Si-chow! Oh, would that I could fly! I'll mount the northern turret; Perhaps from that lofty height I'll see my lover coming, The herald of the light. Although the tower is lofty, I cannot see afar To where my love is dwelling, Beneath the Northern Star. From morn until the evening-- How long the hours do seem!-- I've paced around the turret, As in a weary dream. Once more I'll raise the curtain, And show my lamp's pale light; My love may miss the pathway, And wander in the night. How lofty are the heavens! How vast the heaving sea! Ah, life is sad and dreary When love comes not to me! But though my heart is weary, I trust my lover's vow; The south wind knows my longings And will bear them to Si-chow. And though the seas divide us Our hearts are one for ay, And in sweet dreams will mingle Until the meeting day. _A Song of the Marches_ BY LI TAI-PEH T'ANG DYNASTY The Tien-shan peaks still glisten In robes of spotless white; To songs of Spring I listen, But see no flowers around. The ground is bare and dreary, No voice of Spring I hear, Save the 'Willow Song',[2] so eerie, I play upon my flute. At morn the fight will follow The sound of bugle call; Each man, in sleep, the hollow[3] Across his saddle clasps. And by his side unrusted, His sword is closely laid, With which he long has trusted The tyrant foe[4] to slay. On noble chargers riding, And fleeter than the wind, All fears and risks deriding, They cross the river Wei. Their bows are tautened tightly, Their quivers full of shafts, They face the danger lightly, And charge the haughty foe. As rocks by lightning riven Their ranks are rent apart; As clouds by tempest driven They break and flee away. Then on the sand, blood-streaming, The weary victors sleep, Their swords with hoar-frost gleaming, Their bows dark shadows cast. The Pass has been defended, The foes are scattered far, The soldiers' wives untended May seek their homes again. [2] The name of a tune. [3] The Chinese saddle is curved upwards both in front and at the back, leaving a deep hollow in the centre where the rider sits. [4] Tartar tribes beyond the frontiers. _The Cowherd and the Spinning-Maid_[5] BY LUH-KI Brightly shines the Starry River Flowing down the Heavenly glade; From the north-west comes the 'Herd-Boy', From the south-east looks the 'Maid'. Quickly waves a white hand shapely, Sadly smiles her beauteous face, When she sees her faithful lover Far across the glittering space. Arms stretched out towards each other-- With impulsive feet they stand; Eyes with sorrow's tears bedewèd-- On the Star-Stream's shining strand. But, alas, that bridgeless River Is the cause of all their pain, Dooming 'Spinning-Maid' and 'Herd-Boy' Nevermore to meet again. [5] According to a Chinese legend the stars K'ien-Niu (Cowherd) and Chih-Nü (Spinning-Maid) are two lovers, doomed by the gods to live on opposite sides of the 'River of Stars' (Milky Way). As there is no bridge over this river, the two lovers can only stand afar and gaze at each other. (See note to 'The Swallow's Song'.) _The Old Soldier's Return_ AN ANCIENT POEM: POET UNKNOWN I was but fifteen when I left my friends For distant climes to fight our Country's foe, And now I'm eighty--back for the first time To see the home I left so long ago. Where is the house? I should be near it now, Yet possibly I may have gone astray; Long years abroad have blurred the youthful brain, I'll ask this countryman to point the way. 'The house is yonder--midst those grassy mounds, Beneath the shade of fir and cypress trees, And there lie buried all the kith and kin Of former tillers of these fallow leas.' The veteran sighed and wandered to the house, And found it overgrown and desolate; A startled hare fled through the kennel's hole, And pheasants flew from ceiling beams ornate. Exhausted by the journey and his grief, The old man plucked some grain from patches wild, And mallows from around the courtyard well, As in the days when but a little child. But when the homely fare was cooked and spread, And not a friend to cheer the lonely place, He rose, and going out to eastward gazed, While tears flowed down his worn and furrowed face. _On the Lake near the Western Mountains_ BY CH'ANG KIEN. T'ANG DYNASTY (ANCIENT STYLE) Here at the foot-hills of the Western Mountains My boat rides idly on the current's trail, And in the lengthening radiance of the sunset It seems to chase its own reflected sail. While in the rarer light that heralds evening The forms of all things clearer seem to grow; The forests and the glades and mountain ranges Catch added beauty from the afterglow. The graceful minarets in cloudland floating From jadestone green take on a sombre hue, But still flush rose tints in the darkness falling, Although the sun has disappeared from view. The shadows of the islands and the islets Stretch far across the surface of the lake; The evening mists that float above the waters Are bright as rain-clouds after showers break. In the distance Tsu's[6] abounding forests Reveal their sombre outlines in the gloom; While on the farther shore the gates of King-chow Within the growing darkness faintly loom. The atmosphere with nightfall groweth clearer, A north wind blows with shrill voice through the land; While on the sandy stretches by the waters The swan and stork in dreamy silence stand. The waters now have ceased from restless heaving, My little boat is screened by rushes green; The moon emerging from the lake's horizon A soft light sheds upon the silent scene. Amid the silence and the ghostly beauty I touch my lute to plaintive songs of old, And soon the pleasant strains and long-drawn cadence Have seized my senses in their subtle hold. Thus in such ecstasy the hours pass quickly, And midnight comes with undetected speed; But now the heavy dew upon me falling Recalls my senses to the body's need. Ah me! my body's but a fragile vessel Upon the ever-moving sea of life, Where light and shade and fitful joys and sorrows Control me in their everchanging strife. [6] The name of a large feudal State in the Cheu Dynasty; it included Hupeh and Hunan and parts of Honan and Kiangsu. King-chow on the Yangtze was the capital. _The Happy Farmer_ BY CHU KWANG-HI T'ANG DYNASTY I've a hundred mulberry trees And thirty 'mow' of grain, With sufficient food and clothes, And friends my wine to drain. The fragrant grain of 'Ku-mi' seed Provides our Summer fare; Our Autumn brew of aster wine Is rich beyond compare. My goodwife comes with smiling face To welcome all our guests; My children run with willing feet To carry my behests. When work is done and evening come, We saunter to the park, And there, 'neath elm and willow trees We're blithe as soaring lark. With wine and song the hours fly by Till each in cloudland roams, And then, content with all the world, We wander to our homes. Through lattice-window steals a breeze, As on my couch I lie, While overhead the 'Silver Stream' Flows through a splendid sky. And as I gaze it comes to mind-- A dozen jars at least Of the aster-scented wine remain To grace to-morrow's feast. _An Old House Unroofed by an Autumn Gale_ BY TU FU T'ANG DYNASTY The roof of my house has been blown away By the fiercest of Autumn winds to-day; It was merely of grass and branches built-- Yet my only shelter save a wadded quilt. Across the river it scurried and whirled, In tangled tufts, by the hurricane hurled, Ascending in gusts till caught by the trees, Or falling in ponds and on furrowed leas. In great delight the village urchins shout, And say I'm old and cannot run about; And now before my face the rogues begin To steal things, and then run away and grin. At last I drive them off and hobble back To find my home is shelterless, alack! My lips are parched, my tongue is stiff and dry; My strength is gone, I can but rest and sigh. The wind has slackened but dark clouds affright, And wintry is the fast approaching night; My bed is worn and hard, my clothing spare, I cannot sleep for pain and anxious care. The rain still drizzles through the rafters high, 'Tween which I see the drifting stormy sky, And everything is damp and comfortless: What can be done to lighten such distress? Oh, would there were a mansion of delight, A hundred million rooms both fair and bright, To shelter all the poor beneath the skies, And give the joy which lasting peace supplies. Could I but see this mansion rise sublime Before my eyes at this, or any time; My house and life to lose I'd be content, Could such great blessing to the world be sent. _The Lament of the Ladies of the Siang River_[7] BY YUEN I-SHAN The rose and orchid deck the fragrant isles, And white clouds fly towards the Northern strand; But though a thousand autumns pass away, Our 'Lord' will not return to mortal's land. The clouds are drifting to and fro in vain, Across the river blows the autumn breeze, And o'er the water floats a fine, white mist, While moonlight falls on stream and wooded leas. Upon the lofty 'Kiu-e'[8] mountain range Throughout the night the gibbons wail and call, And from the voiceless boughs of tall bamboos The tears so long retained in dewdrops fall. [7] According to a Chinese legend the Ladies of the Siang River are Nü-Ying and Ngo-Hwang, the two wives of the Emperor Shun, and this poem describes their lament for his death. [8] According to another legend the Emperor Shun was buried in the Kiu-i Mountains. _The Waters of the Mei-Pei_ BY TU FU T'ANG DYNASTY Two friends whose love of wonders led them oft To leave the haunts and scenes of every day, Invited me to join them in a voyage Across the waters of the dread Mei-Pei![9] Where nature in her changeful moods is seen, In grandeur and in terror side by side; Where mighty forces alter heaven and earth, And puny human strength and life deride. Will countless billows of the wide expanse In ceaseless motion mount and roll afar? Through fluid piles of seeming crystal rocks Will our boat sail beyond the sheltering bar? Delightful is the venture that we take, And yet dire fears will gather in our throat, The gavial huge may come in search of prey, The monster whales may overturn our boat! Fierce winds may rise and billows roll and break! But our brave friends unloose the flowing sail, And through the scattering flocks of duck and tern The boat glides on--the white foam in our trail. The pure and bracing air inflates our lungs-- Afar from towns where dust with cleanness vies; The boatmen chant gay ditties as they work, While sounds of lutes rise to the azure skies. As fresh as dew on early morning flowers The leaves of water-lilies float around, Upon the surface of the water clear, Through which we peer in vain to find the ground. Then yielding to the current, broad and strong, Toward the central flood we quickly forge; The waters pure as those of Puh and Hsiai,[10] Yet darkly deep as in the Chong-Nan gorge.[11] The mountain heights whose base abuts the lake Are mirrored clearly in the southern end; The Great Peace Temple, which in cloudland hangs, Reflects its image in the eastern bend. The moon has risen, and its silver beams Across the Lan-Tien Pass[12] in beauty glow, While we sit idly on the vessel's side And watch the nodding peaks in depths below. And as we view the mirage of the heights Which tower in mighty strength above our heads, The swift Li-Long[13] in prodigal display A shower of pearls upon the water spreads. The Ruler of the Rivers[14] beats his drum, And dragons haste the summons to obey; The Consorts[15] of the ancient king descend, Led by the Maiden of the Star-lit Way.[16] To branchèd instruments of beaten gold, Adorned with pendants of sapphire and jade, They sing, and dance, midst lights of many hues, Which flash in splendour, then in darkness fade. In ecstasy we watch the wondrous scene, But awe and joy are mingled in our mind, For now far off we hear the thunder peal, And lowering clouds with lurid lights are lined. The waters heave with burdensome unrest, The air is full of shadows of the dead; The Spirits of the Universe are near, And we cannot divine their portents dread. And such is life--an hour of changing scenes Of fitful joy and quickly following grief; An hour of buoyant youth in rapid flight, And then old age to end life--sad and brief! [9] A vast body of water in some wild and remote part of the Empire, probably in the north-west; but the exact locality is disputed. [10] The names of two rivers, or the two words combined may mean the clear water of a deep cove or inlet. [11] A deep gorge in the Chong-nan Mountains in Shen-si. [12] A famous Pass near Si-ngan, the provincial capital of Shen-si. [13] A fabulous Dragon whose mythological ancestry and habitat I am unable to trace. [14] Ping-i, name of the Chinese God of Waters. [15] Nü-Ying and Ngo-Hwang, daughters of the Emperor Yao, and wives of the Emperor Shun (2288 B.C.?). [16] The Spinning-Maid. See legend of Cowherd and Spinning-Maid. _The Swallow's Song_[17] BY EMPEROR WEN OF THE WEI DYNASTY (A.D. 220-264) The autumn winds are blowing, The air is cool and drear, The forest leaves are falling, The grass is scant and sear. The dew to hoar-frost changes, And swallows southward fly; While from the North in batches The wild swan cloud the sky. And I such signs discerning Think of you, husband dear, And long for your home-coming From marches long and drear. Why do you longer tarry In such a distant place? Think of my lonely vigils, Sad thoughts and tear-stained face! The harp I often finger, And try to sing a song; But soon I sigh and falter, And for your coming long. The Moon's pure light is shining Upon my lonely bed; The 'Star-Stream's'[18] westward flowing, The night is not far sped. The Cowherd and the Spinning-Girl[19] Lament the doom that bars The meeting of true lovers, Across the Stream of Stars. What folly did they ponder To meet so dire a fate? I wonder if we also Are doomed to trial as great! [17] In this poem the thoughts of a woman, whose husband is engaged in the wars beyond the frontier, are described by the poet. [18] The Milky Way. [19] K'ien-Niu (Cowherd) and Chih-Nü (Spinning-Girl) are the names of two stars and, according to a Chinese legend, these two stars are lovers doomed to gaze at each other across the wide 'River of Stars'; i.e. the Milky Way, but never meet. According to one version of the legend, however, the lovers are allowed to meet once a year, on the seventh night of the Seventh Month, when birds form a bridge over the 'River of Stars' to enable the Spinning-Girl to meet her lover. _Farewell to a Comrade_ BY CHEN KIA-CHOW T'ANG DYNASTY Cold gusts from Arctic regions sweep the ground, And snowflakes countless fly through the wintry sky, Covering with spotless robe the earth around, While snow flowers frail on twigs and branches lie. As when a genial breeze in early Spring Shakes open all the pear-trees' blossoms white, And sombre-looking trees with leafless boughs Are decked with radiance in a single night. Through crevices and slits in bamboo blinds, Which shield the entrance to our hempen tent, Snow-whirls and keen winds blow and chill the blood, In spite of furs and wadded garments blent. Cold so intense is felt by all alike-- The General cannot stretch his horn-tipped bow, In coats of mail the Captains stiffly move, While soldiers growl or mutter curses low. Far off the desert stretches as a sea, In frozen ridges like to driven clouds, Alas, the multitudes of warriors brave The pathless waste of cruel sand enshrouds! But now our happy comrade homeward turns, We'll drink his health to sound of viol and flute, And see him safely on his journey start; Another cup, and then the old salute! Falls thick the snow around the fortress walls, The red flag frozen stirs not in the air, As forth we ride from out the Eastern gate,-- In jostling groups, or quietly pair by pair. Nearing the Tien-shan[20] road we draw in rein, To bid our comrade there a last farewell, And watch him upward climb the mountain path To peaks that touch the clouds where genii dwell.[21] But soon the winding path conceals from view The fading horsemen as they upward wend; All we now see are footprints in the snow, As 'ih-lu fuh-sing'[22] we towards them send. [20] The Tien Mountains; in many books of geography erroneously described as Tien-Shan Mountains. [21] According to Chinese mythology, the top of the Tien Mountains touch heaven and are the abode of the genii. [22] May the Star of Happiness accompany you to the end of the journey. _Beauty's Fatal Snare_[23] BY LI HAN-LIN T'ANG DYNASTY The ravens roost upon the towers of Su, While revels reign within the Court of Wu; The rustic Si-Shi with her peerless face, Her slender form, her witching smile and grace. Inflamed by wine, she now begins to sing The songs of Wu to please the fatuous king; And in the dance of Tsu she subtly blends All rhythmic movements to her sensuous ends. Si-Shi o'er Wu her spell has surely cast, The King of Yüeh has snared his foe at last; With wine, and song, and dance, the hours fly by: The water-clock[24] has dripped till almost dry. Behind the hills appears the flush of dawn, Beyond the river sinks the moon forlorn; And now the sun climbs up the towers of Su; What of the revellers in the Halls of Wu! [23] The Prince of Yüeh wishing to ruin his rival, the Prince of Wu, presented to him a very beautiful girl, named Si-Shi, who had been taught all feminine accomplishments. Fu-Ch'a, the Prince of Wu, fell into the snare, and besotted by dissolute pleasures, became an easy victim to the Prince of Yüeh who annexed the State of Wu to his own dominions. After his defeat Fu-Ch'a committed suicide. [24] Time was measured by the clepsydra, and the expression indicates that the night was far spent and dawn near. _A Reverie in a Summer-house_ BY MENG HAO-RAN T'ANG DYNASTY (A.D. 618-905) The daylight fades behind the Western Mountains, And in the east is seen the rising moon, Which faintly mirrored in the garden fountains Foretells that night and dreams are coming soon. With window open--hair unloosed and flowing,[25] I lie in restful ease upon my bed; The evening breeze across the lilies blowing With fragrant coolness falls upon my head. And in the solemn stillness--all-prevailing, The fall of dewdrops from the tall bamboos-- Which grow in graceful rows along the railing-- Sounds through the silence soft as dove's faint coos. On such an eve as this I would be singing, And playing plaintive tunes upon the lute, And thus to mind old friends and pleasures bringing; But none are here to join with harp and flute! So in a pleasant stillness I lie dreaming Of bygone days and trusty friends of old, Among whom Sin-tze's[26] happy face is beaming; I would my thoughts could now to him be told. [25] In ancient times the hair was worn long and knotted on the top of the head. [26] The name of a genial companion of earlier days. _The Flower-Seller_[27] BY TSING-NIEN TSING DYNASTY The sun is sinking in the sky, It scarcely reaches a flagstaff high; And now the pretty flower-girl dares Come out to sell her fragile wares. Her voice rings out a message sweet, As on she trips with lightsome feet, To buy her musk and jessamine, Her violets and white eglantine. And the fresh perfumes of her flowers, After last night's refreshing showers, Borne on the gentle breeze soon find An entrance through my lattice blind. The windows of the rich and great Are opened wide, and heads, ornate With glossy hair and jewels bright, Are thrust forth in the evening light Of the setting sun, whose shadow falls On the straight lines of brick-built walls, By which men marked the time of day[28] Ere clocks and watches came their way. And many flowers of beauteous hue, Still sparkling with the morning dew, Are bought by ladies rich and fair, To deck their deep black lustrous hair. [27] A modern poem composed by a successful student at a Government Examination. [28] Formerly the time of day was roughly ascertained by such means. _The Red-Flower Pear-Tree_ BY EO YANG SIU SONG DYNASTY Posted to a distant mountain region, The old Lang-Kwan,[29] grown grey in honest work, Oft wandered through the valleys rough and dreary In search of treasures which might therein lurk. One day, growing in a sheltered corner, He found a red-flowered pear-tree in full bloom, And before it stood transfixed with wonder, As when a dazzling brightness shines through gloom. Wondering how so fair a plant could flourish Away from genial clime and native earth, Circled by a thousand mist-clad mountains, And far from fragrant trees of kindred birth. High its beauty-laden branches rising Above the gaudy brambles trailing there, Standing lonely in its perfect grandeur, With none, alas! to view the picture rare. Save the vernal breeze which strips its blossoms And blows them open, year by year, again; Or the feathered tribes of mountain ranges In search of shelter from the mist or rain. Showing it has braved the storms for ages, Its roots are curved and knotted with the fight; Yet the Lang-Kwan is the first of mankind To look with pleasure on so fair a sight. Drinking in the wealth of dewy fragrance, He walked around the tree for many hours, But held by reverential love and wonder, He durst not raise a hand to pluck the flowers. To himself the old man murmured gently, I wish I could remove the tree from here To grace the garden of the King's demesne, And find a royal consort for its peer. Such a task, alas! would be much harder Than the long and toilsome journey of Chang-K`an,[30] When he brought the beautiful pomegranate From Western regions to the Land of Han. [29] A District Magistrate in ancient times. [30] Chang-K`an, or Chang-K`ien, a Minister of the Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty. In this poem it is said that he brought the pomegranate to China, but other writers say the grape-vine. _A Song of Princess Tze-Yuh_[31] BY HAN-CHONG (ANCIENT) As Southern birds avoid a Northern snare, My kin avoid alliances with thine; And though my love for thee would greatly dare, I know our clans the marriage would decline. I would have followed thee, but evil talk Besmirched our names and sent us far apart; But why the world its love of slander balk? 'Tis evil fate that has despoiled my heart! I wept for thee and mourned for three long years, As mourns the phoenix when her consort's dead; And then death came and ended grief and tears; For after thee no other could I wed. And now you stand before my grave and grieve, My wraith's permitted for a moment's space, The confines of the Spirit land to leave And visit earth to see thee face to face. And, oh believe, though quick we part once more, And in the body cannot meet and love, Our souls are one till life and time are o'er, And we united in the realms above. [31] Tze-Yuh, daughter of Fu-Chai, Prince of the Wu State, and Han-Chong loved each other and wished to marry, but political feuds prevented their union. Thereupon Han-Chong travelled abroad, and Tze-Yuh, after three years of fruitless mourning, died of grief. When Han-Chong returned and visited Tze-Yuh's grave to mourn there, he had a vision of her beautiful face, which inspired him to compose this song. _Distaste for Official Life_ BY TAO TSIEN T'SIN DYNASTY For thirty years I read, and mused, and wrote, Or idly angled from my fishing-boat; Or wandered through the woods, or climbed the hills, Listening to songsters and to murmuring rills; Or sauntering in my garden talked with flowers, As friend with friend, for many happy hours; Or working in my fields ablaze with golden grain, And herbs and fruits which keep life clean and sane. Far from the busy mart and huckstering crowd, Striving for gold or place with brawlings loud,-- From youth to middle age I've passed my days Midst flowers and fields hearing what Nature says. And now, alas! I'm on this boat and bound For far King-chow, with rank and office crowned; To village home and friends I've bid farewell, And of life's peace, I fear, I've tolled the knell. From off the shore a pleasant breeze now blows, And on and on the placid river flows; While the pale shining of the Queen of Night Floods the great universe with silvery light. I cannot sleep, the future weights my mind, The calls of office--cares of every kind Oppress me with a sense of coming woes-- A forlorn hope against unnumbered foes! I fain would tune my harp and ballads sing, Some comfort to my sinking heart to bring; But such poor solace even is denied-- My hands are nerveless and my tongue is tied. How can I leave my former happy life To mingle in ambition's worldly strife! What care I for the spoils of rank and power, The petty triumphs of the passing hour! My office I'll resign and homeward turn To till my farm beside the rippling burn, Where I in happy freedom may once more The Muses and the Book of Nature pore. There in my rustic lodge in leisure time, I'll cherish every thought and scene sublime, And following still the teachers of my youth A name I'll build upon eternal truth. _The Fragrant Tree_ BY WEI YING-WUH T'ANG DYNASTY In a far-off fragrant garden Grows a tree of beauty rare, Whose reflection on the brooklet Makes a vision fair. But when now I see this vision, Heart and mind are wrung with grief, Mourning hours of blissful meeting-- Every hour too brief. Rich as ever is the foliage, Opal clouds the shimmering boughs, And the dewy leaves still glisten While the sun allows. But, alas, Her presence lacking, What are all such things to me! She will never more be plucking Blossoms from this tree. Here beside the brook are traces Of her light and gladsome feet; But again we two shall never In this garden meet. _A Song of the Snow_ BY LUH FANG-WENG Three days it snowed on Chang-an[32] plain, With drifts the Pass[33] was stacked; The iron cows[34] could not be moved, The dew-pans[35] froze and cracked. A traveller of handsome mien, And clad in white foxskin, With curled moustache and strong of limb, Came to the Pao-chan[36] inn. At night he supped and drank full well Until he soundly slept; But in the early dawn he woke And on his strong horse leapt. Then riding through the drifts of snow He reached the South Range bare, And hunted for a tiger fierce Which long had 'scaped the snare. And when the crafty beast was met, An arrow from his bow Transfixed its bounding body huge, And reddened deep the snow. With dying strength it beat the air, And uttered piercing yells, Which shook the hills and forest trees, And echoed through the dells. The carcase then he draggèd back Along a crowded course; The bones a pillow frame supplied, The skin adorned his horse. But when confusion fills the land, And peace is under ban, Why don't such men of might come forth To help the King of Han! [32] Now Si-ngan, the provincial capital of Shen-si, but in the Han Dynasty the capital of China. [33] A very important mountain pass near Si-ngan. [34] Vessels used in the conservancy of the Yellow River. [35] Pans to hold dew, which was collected to provide the Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty with bathing-and drinking-water and thus promote longevity. [36] 'The Precious Hairpin,' merely the sign of the inn. _The Old Temple among the Mountains_ BY CHANG WEN-CHANG T'ANG DYNASTY (618-905 B.C.) The temple courts with grasses rank abound, And birds throng in the forest trees around; But pilgrims few, though tablets still remain, Come to the shrine while revolutions reign. The mice climb through the curtains--full of holes, And thick dust overspreads the broidered stoles; The temple pool in gloomy blackness lies To which the sleeping dragon[37] sometimes hies. [37] The meaning of this expression is not clear; it has a political signification. _A Soldier's Farewell to his Wife_ BY SU-WU[38] HAN DYNASTY, OR EARLIER My dear wife, you and I have been as one, No doubt has marred the faith, which love has won, Our chief desire throughout the married state Has been of love and joy to give and take. But now, alas! the joy of Spring departs, And sorrow's shafts must enter both our hearts; I cannot sleep; I must arise and see The time; ah me, how quick the hours do flee! Awake, my dearest, for the stars have set, The grief of parting must be bravely met; And yet the dreary marches weight my mind,-- As through defiles and desert plains they wind. And then, at last, the awful battle-field, Where I must fight and naught to foemen yield; But, oh! the bitter, paralysing pain-- To think that we may never meet again! I must let fall the long restrainèd tears As, clasping hands, you calm my anxious fears; If not, my heart will break with sighs repressed To hear your love so tenderly confessed. But courage, we will think of Young Love's day, And all the pleasures which therein did stay; And this shall cheer me on the toilsome road, And help you here to bear your weary load. Then with what joy we shall renew our life, When I return safe from the dreadful strife; But if, alas! the Fates should death decree, My spirit shall for ever live with thee. [38] Chinese commentators regard this poem as Su's farewell to his own wife, written when he was sent on an expedition to the land of the Hsiung-nu, where he was captured and kept in captivity for many years. _The Wanderer's Return_ BY TU FU T'ANG DYNASTY The setting sun beneath the red-lined clouds, Which mass around the foot-hills in the west, Still floods the valley with a rose-hued light, And lures the chirping birds to seek their rest. The wayworn traveller pauses near the gate, From which he sallied forth so long ago; Unconscious then of what Fate held in store-- The years of separation, loss, and woe. The neighbours press around the garden fence, And gaze with mouth agape, or quietly sigh; While wife and children awestruck, rigid stand, And then tears flow and to his arms they fly. 'For years on revolution's waves I've tossed, While wife and bairns mourned me in hopeless plight; And now to-night, as in a dream, I sit With all my loved ones 'neath the lamp's bright light.' _The Pleasures of a Simple Life with Nature_ BY LI-SHANG-YIN T'ANG DYNASTY On these pleasant hills residing, Far from worldly din and strife, Leisurely with nature living, Here I pass a happy life. Gently wave the bamboo copses, Fanned by evening breezes light; While the flowers and moon-beams mingle In the ghostly hours of night. Through ravines the waters gurgle, Stemmed by scattered rock and stone; Round the bends the footpath wanders-- By the mosses overgrown. Here with friends and habits simple, And a cup of generous wine, Fingering lute and old songs singing-- For no other heaven I pine. _Listening to the Playing on a Lute in a Boat_ BY SU-SHIH In my boat I sat alone, And the hours were fast in flight, When the sound of music broke The stillness of the night. Sighing winds through fir-trees swept, Falling cascades murmured low, As the master touched his lute-- So lovingly and slow. Clutching fast my lapelled coat, Rapture swayed me without bounds, As with every nerve intent, I listened to the sounds. Yet again I longed to hear Ancient chimes on jadestone bell, Drawn forth by the Master's hand From lute he loved so well. Since the days of Chen and Wei,[39] When confusion filled the land, Music rare of ancient style Has found but scant demand. Times and instruments alike, For a thousand years and more, Silent and forgotten lay, And few the loss deplore! One alone--the priceless lute-- Change and storm and wreck survives, Watching nations rise and wane, As god of mortal lives. Music old is now decried, Light songs and ditties sought, Strains insipid, jerky turns, Light and crispy wrought. Instruments of wood remain, Void of human feelings sweet, Which the soul of ancient song Never more may greet. Peaceful is the river now, Moon-beams play upon the scene, From the ceaseless din of life Night provides a pleasant screen. In the silence of this hour, Will you, Master, yet once more, Wen-wang's[40] melodies revive, As in the days of yore? [39] The Wei and Ch'en Dynasties. [40] Duke Chang, the virtual founder of the Chow Dynasty; Wen Wang being his posthumous title. His son, Prince Wu, was the first ruler of the Chow Dynasty. _Reflections on the Past_[41] THIS IS ONLY ONE SECTION OF A LONG POEM BY TAO TSIEN. The sun went down and cloudless came the night, A gentle zephyr breathed through moonlit skies; And bevies of fair women thronged the Court, The beauty of the starlight in their eyes. With wine and singing swiftly flew the hours Until the herald of the dawn appeared; But when the music and the rapture ceased, Deep sighs were heard and weird forebodings feared. Such beauty even in the Halls of T'sin As on this fateful night was seldom seen,-- A lustrous moon in fleecy clouds it shines! A splendid flower amidst the foliage green! How fair the groups of revellers--fair the scene! But pleasures such as these must pass away! How keen the raptures of those fleeting hours! What of the burdens of the coming day? [41] This poem probably refers to the revelries of the Court at the end of the T'sin Dynasty 300-200 B.C., before it was overthrown by the founder of the Han Dynasty. _A Lowly Flower_ BY BAY SIE T'IAO T'ANG DYNASTY A flowering grass I rise From the side of a far-spread lake, Whose waters lave and fertilize, And all my thirsty tissues slake. The dews of Spring with gentle power Evolve my glossy emerald leaves; The colours of my fragrant flower The rime of early Autumn weaves. And yet in trembling fear I grow, Lest root and stem should be uptorn By sudden storm or rushing flow, And leave me helpless and forlorn. So here contented will I lie, Although a plant of humble birth; Nor try to soar to realms on high Above the confines of the earth. For never yet has living soul By strength or wisdom changed his fate; All things are under heaven's control, Who allocates to each his state. _On returning to a Country Life_ BY TAO TSIEN My youth was spent amidst the simple charms Of country scenes--secure from worldly din, And then, alas! I fell into the net Of public life, and struggled long therein. The captive bird laments its forest home; The fish in tanks think of the sea's broad strands; And I oft longed, amidst official cares, To till a settler's plot in sunny lands. And now I have my plot of fifteen 'mow',[42] With house thereon of rustic build and thatch; The elm and willow cast a grateful shade, While plum-and peach-trees fill the entrance patch. Away from busy towns and dusty marts, The dog barks in the silent country lane; While chickens cluck among the mulberry-trees, And life is healthy and the mind is sane. Here in my house--with room for friend or two, On my own farm--won from the barren plain, Escaped from cares of office and routine, I live a free and natural life again. [42] A Chinese acre, a measure of land equal to about one-fifth of an English acre. _The Brevity of Life_ POET UNKNOWN: HAN DYNASTY, OR EARLIER Our years on earth are brief, But few a hundred win; A thousand years of grief Are packed therein. The day quick takes its flight, The dark is sad and long; Then let us cheer the night With feast and song. The niggard thinks it wise To save and live by rule; But sages may arise To call him fool! _Conscripts leaving for the Frontier_[43] BY TU-FU T'ANG DYNASTY Chariots rumbling; horses neighing; Soldiers shouting martial cries; Drums are sounding; trumpets braying; Seas of glittering spears arise. On each warrior's back are hanging Deadly arrows, mighty bows; Pipes are blowing, gongs are clanging, On they march in serried rows. Age-bowed parents, sons and daughters Crowd beside in motley bands; Here one stumbles, there one falters Through the clouds of blinding sands. Wives and mothers sometimes clinging To their loved ones in the ranks, Or in grief their bodies flinging On the dusty crowded flanks. Mothers', wives', and children's weeping Rises sad above the din,-- Through the clouds to Heaven creeping-- Justice begging for their kin. 'To what region are they going?' Asks a stranger passing by; 'To the Yellow River, flowing Through the desert bare and dry! 'Forced conscription daily snapping Ties which bind us to our clan; Forced conscription slowly sapping All the manhood of the Han.' And the old man went on speaking To the stranger from afar: ''Tis the Emperor, glory seeking, Drives them 'neath his baleful star. 'Guarding river; guarding passes On the frontier, wild and drear; Fighting foes in savage masses-- Scant of mercy, void of fear. 'Proclamations, without pity, Rain upon us day by day, Till from village, town, and city All our men are called away. 'Called away to swell the flowing Of the streams of human blood, Where the bitter north wind blowing Petrifies the ghastly flood. 'Guarding passes through the mountains, Guarding rivers in the plain; While in sleep, in youth's clear fountain, Scenes of home come back again. 'But, alas! the dream is leaded With the morn's recurring grief, Only few return--grey-headed-- To their homes, for days too brief. 'For the Emperor, still unheeding Starving homes and lands untilled, On his fatuous course proceeding, Swears his camps shall be refilled. 'Hence new levies are demanded, And the war goes on apace, Emperor and foemen banded In the slaughter of the race. 'All the region is denuded Of its men and hardy boys, Only women left, deluded Of life's promise and its joys. 'Yet the prefects clamour loudly That the taxes must be paid,-- Ride about and hector proudly! How can gold from stones be made? 'Levy after levy driven, Treated more like dogs than men, Over mountains, tempest riven, Through the salty desert fen. 'There by Hun and Tartar harried-- Ever fighting, night or day; Wounded, left to die, or carried Far from kith and kin away. 'Better bring forth daughters only Than male children doomed to death, Slaughtered in the desert lonely, Frozen by the north wind's breath. 'Where their bodies, left unburied, Strew the plain from west to east, While above in legions serried Vultures hasten to the feast. 'Brave men's bones on desert bleaching, Far away from home and love, Spirits of the dead beseeching Justice from the heaven above.' [43] This poem is an attempt to describe the miseries of the people under compulsory military service during the long wars carried on by the Emperor Hsüen-Tsung of the Han Dynasty. _Estimating the Value of a Wife_ UNKNOWN: ANCIENT Once upon a time a husband, weary Of the selfsame face before him day by day, Determined to dismiss his goodwife promptly, And take a new one--to her great dismay! Without delay the little deal was settled,-- The husband on his purpose being bent,-- The new wife through the front door entered grandly, The old one from a side-door sadly went. One day the old wife to her home returning From gathering wild flowers on the mountain side, Met with her quondam master in the valley, And, kneeling, asked him how the new one vied. 'The new wife', said the husband very slowly, 'Has beauty that is equal to your own, But still her hands are not so deft and useful, Nor can she compass so much work alone. 'The new wife's hands are very skilled in weaving Embroidered satins with her dainty touch; The old wife's fingers, faster and unwearied, Of useful fabrics weave five times as much. 'So when I reckon up the charms and uses Of goodwives, number One and number Two, There's little room within my mind for doubting, I had the better bargain when I'd you.' _The Lady Lo-Fu_ HAN DYNASTY, OR EARLIER On a bright and sunny morning, From her mother's house there came, One who needed no adorning,-- Lo-Fu was the lady's name. On her arm a basket swinging, Made of silk her own hand weaves, Forth she wanders blithely singing, Bent on gathering mulberry leaves. From her head in graceful tresses Falls the fine and lustrous hair, While each shapely ear caresses Just one pearl of beauty rare. Purple bodice, broidered quaintly, Silken skirt with amber lace, Gave the touch demure and saintly To her sweetly winsome face. Travellers dropped the loads they carried, And in wonder stroked their chin; Young men, whether free or married, Doffed their hats a glance to win. Farmers stay their hand in ploughing, Peasants stand as in a dream, Now and then the trees allowing Of the girl a passing gleam. On this morn an Envoy passing, From a mission to the sea, Where much wealth he'd been amassing, Saw Lo-Fu beneath a tree. For her silkworms food providing, Work she did with greatest zest; All her friends around residing Owned her silk was of the best. Near the tree the Envoy stopping With his escort in array, Soldiers boughs of mulberries lopping Helped to make a fine display. From his retinue emerging Came the Envoy's trusty man, Who his master's message urging, Gently asked her name and clan. 'Lo-Fu,' came the answer proudly, 'Of the ancient house of T'sin!' Adding, too, a little loudly, 'And my age is seventeen.' 'Will you join me?' asked the Envoy, 'Sharing all my wealth and power, All the treasures of this convoy Would not far exceed your dower!' 'You have a wife,' she answered coldly, 'And most foolish are, I fear; I,' she added firm and boldly, 'Also have a husband dear. 'And my husband is the leader Of a thousand horsemen brave, Midst whom not one base seceder Would another captain crave! 'On his charger, white and fiery, 'Mongst the troop he's first espied, Soldier-like, erect and wiry, With his keen sword by his side. 'When but fifteen he enlisted Without patronage or fame, And at twenty, unassisted, Officer at Court became. 'Then at thirty, unexpected, Captain in the Royal Clan; Now at forty he's selected Chief commandant of Ch'ang-an. 'Gallant, but of gentle bearing, When the battle's fought and won, For the praise of men less caring Than the meed for duty done. 'Yes, a clear-eyed, clean-souled hero Is the man I'm praising now, And your value sinks to zero When compared with his, I vow. 'True, a lowly work I'm doing, And the silk we use I spin, But remember you are wooing Lo-Fu of the House of T'sin.'[44] [44] The ancient State of T'sin, which finally embraced the whole of Shen-si and Kansuh. In 221 B.C. this State under Shi Hwang Ti subdued all China, and thereafter the ruling sovereigns are known as the T'sin Dynasty. _An Autumn Evening in the Garden_ BY LI YI The Summer's gone, but summer heat remains, And sleepless nights still leave us all repining; So to the garden I have moved my couch, And on it I am peacefully reclining. The white clouds spread themselves across the sky, And through the rifts the moon's soft light is falling On dewy grass and flowers and trees around, While from the towers night birds are faintly calling. The gentle rustling of the tall bamboos In subtle symphony of tone is blending With the waters of the fountain and the brook, Which flow and murmur on their ways unending. While through the gauzy garments which I wear The cooling evening breeze is gently blowing, My feeling of contentment is more deep Than when I'm where the ruby wine is flowing. _Muh-Lan_[45] Muh-Lan's swift fingers flying to and fro Crossed warp with woof in deft and even row, As by the side of spinning-wheel and loom She sat at work without the women's room.[46] But tho' her hand the shuttle swiftly plies The whir cannot be heard for Muh-Lan's sighs; When neighbours asked what ills such mood had wrought, And why she worked in all-absorbing thought; She answered not, for in her ears did ring The summons of last evening from the King, Calling to arms more warriors for the west, The name of Muh-Lan's father heading all the rest. But he was ill--no son to take his place, Excuses meant suspicion and disgrace; Her father's honour must not be in doubt; Nor friend, nor foe, his stainless name shall flout; She would herself his duty undertake And fight the Northern foe for honour's sake. Her purpose fixed, the plan was soon evolved, But none should know it, this she was resolved; Alone, unknown, she would the danger face, Relying on the prowess of her race. A charger here, a saddle there, she bought, And next a bridle and a whip she sought; With these equipped she donned the soldier's gear, Arming herself with bow and glittering spear. And then before the sun began his journey steep She kissed her parents in their troubled sleep, Caressing them with fingers soft and light, She quietly passed from their unconscious sight; And mounting horse she with her comrades rode Into the night to meet what fate forbode; And as her secret not a comrade knew, Her fears soon vanished as the morning dew. That day they galloped westward fast and far, Nor paused until they saw the evening star; Then by the Yellow River's rushing flood They stopped to rest and cool their fevered blood. The turbid stream swept on with swirl and foam Dispelling Muh-Lan's dreams of friends and home; Muh-Lan! Muh-Lan! she heard her mother cry-- The waters roared and thundered in reply! Muh-Lan! Muh-Lan! she heard her father sigh-- The river surged in angry billows by! The second night they reach the River Black, And on the range which feeds it, bivouac; Muh-Lan! Muh-Lan! she hears her father pray-- While on the ridge the Tartars' horses neigh; Muh-Lan! Muh-Lan! her mother's lips let fall! The Tartars' camp sends forth a bugle call! The morning dawns on men in armed array Aware that death may meet them on that day; The Winter sun sends forth a pallid light Through frosty air on knights in armour bright; While bows strung tight, and spears in glittering rows, Forebode the struggle of contending foes. And soon the trumpets blare--the fight's begun; A deadly _mêlée_--and the Pass is won! The war went on, and many a battle-field Revealed Muh-Lan both bow and spear could wield; Her skill and courage won her widespread fame, And comrades praised, and leaders of great name. Then after several years of march and strife, Muh-Lan and others, who had 'scaped with life From fields of victory drenched with patriots' blood, Returned again to see the land they loved. And when at last the Capital[47] was reached, The warriors, who so many forts had breached, Were summoned to the presence of the King, And courtiers many did their praises sing; Money and presents on them, too, were showered, And some with rank and office were empowered; While Muh-Lan, singled out from all the rest, Was offered fief and guerdon of the best. But gifts and honours she would gladly lose If she might only be allowed to choose Some courier camels, strong and fleet of pace, To bear her swiftly to her native place. * * * * * And now, at last, the journey nears the end, And father's, mother's voices quickly blend In--'Muh-Lan, Muh-Lan! welcome, welcome, dear!' And this time there was naught but joy to fear. Her younger sisters decked the house with flowers, And loving words fell sweet as summer showers; Her little brother shouted Muh-Lan's praise, For many proud and happy boastful days! The greetings o'er, she slipped into her room-- Radiant with country flowers in fragrant bloom-- And changed her soldier's garb for woman's dress: Her head adorned with simple maiden's tress-- A single flower enriched her lustrous hair-- And forth she came, fresh, maidenly, and fair! Some comrades in the war had now come in, Who durst not mingle in the happy din; But there in awe and admiration stood, As brave men do before true womanhood; For not the boldest there had ever dreamed, On toilsome march, or when swords flashed and gleamed In marshalled battle, or on sudden raid, That their brave comrade was a beauteous maid. [45] Muh-Lan was a famous heroine of the Liang Dynasty (A.D. 502-556) who, when her father was summoned to serve as a soldier in the wars on the north-western frontier, and was unable to obey the order on account of sickness, put on a soldier's dress and took his place in the army for several years. She fought in many battles, winning great praise for her bravery, and ever since she has been regarded as the ideal of daughterly devotion and feminine courage. [46] In the porch of the women's apartment. [47] The capital of China at that time was Chang-an, now Si-an-Fu the provincial capital of Shen-si. _The Old Fisherman_ BY LUH FANG-WEN T'ANG DYNASTY While wandering up the river-side alone To view the landscape of my new-found home, Away from cities and the haunts of men Where I midst nature's scenes can quietly roam, I came upon a fisher's lonely hut Ensconced within a winding of the stream, And in a boat the fisherman himself; While on his sail the sunlight sent a gleam. Across the river stands a stately mountain Which wandering artists oft have tried to paint, But none could seize the subtle blend of colours-- Of purple blues and rose-dawn flushes faint. Alas! the fisherman through summers many, Has gazed upon the glory of this scene, And yet his mind's unwakened to its beauty, His hand unskilled to limn its tints and sheen. And my hand, too, alas! has lost its cunning And cannot serve my brain as in my youth, So men will lose another glorious picture Of Nature with her beauty and her truth. _Midnight in the Garden_ BY LIU TSONG-YUEN T'ANG DYNASTY (ANCIENT STYLE) The midnight hours were passing And sleep still past me flew; My mind--so keenly working-- Could hear the dropping dew. So from my bed arising I open wide the door-- The western park revealing, And hills that heavenward soar. Across the Eastern ranges The clear moon coldly shines On bamboos, loosely scattered, And trailing mountain vines. And so intense the stillness, That from the distant hills I hear the pigeons cooing, And murmuring streams and rills. For hours I have been thinking, As in a silent dream, And now beyond the mountains I see the dawn's first gleam. _Reflections on the Brevity of Life_ POET'S NAME UNKNOWN: HAN DYNASTY OR EARLIER (206 B.C.-220 A.D.) We sought the city by the Eastern gate, Our chariot moving at a leisured rate, Along the road on which the sunlight weaves The trembling of the willow's rustling leaves. And far away are pine-trees towering high, Beneath whose shade the graves of heroes lie; In Hades now their last long sleep they take, From which a mortal never more shall wake. How vast the gulf between the quick and dead! Yet as the morning dew our life is sped; The rocks and hills enduring strength retain, But mortals pass in fast and endless train. Alas! the sages are inert to trace Beyond the grave the future of our race; Alchemic nostrums, too, are used in vain, They cannot turn life's ills to endless gain. Then let us drain the goblet while we live, And take the best the fleeting hour can give. In life a little pleasure may be won, To-morrow we must die and there'll be none. _So-fei gathering Flowers_ BY WANG CHANG-LING In a dress of gauzy fabric Of the 'Lien' leaf's emerald hue So-fei glides amongst the lilies Sprinkled with the morning dew. Rose-hued are the lotus-blossoms, Rose-hued, too, the maiden's cheeks; Is it So-fei's form I follow, Or the flowers she seeks? Now I hear a song arising From the lotus bowers, Which distinguishes the maiden From her sister flowers. _A Farewell_[48] BY LI TAI-PEH Far up the Song-Yang's sacred mountain, Unrestrained by lock or bridge, Plows a pure and peaceful streamlet 'Neath the 'Gem-Maid's' grassy ridge. There at eve midst pine-trees sombre Looms the large and lustrous moon; And within my ancient dwelling You I hope to welcome soon. Yes, my friend, I'll come to see you At the closing of the year, In your home among the mountains, Where you live without a fear. Deep in searching for the Chang-pu, With its bloom-flushed purple flower, Which endows the happy finder With immortal life and power. Ere I come you may have found it, And to realms where genii dwell Winged your flight upon the dragon, Bidding to our earth farewell. [48] Poems similar to this one are frequently written by literary men in China when bidding farewell to a friend. _The Khwun-ming Lake_ BY TU FU In ancient times the flags of Wu[49] Made gay the Khwun-ming Lake,[50] On which his ships in mimic strife The decks of foemen rake. But now deserted is the scene, And in the moon's pale light, The Spinning-Maid[51] upon the shore Sits silent in the night. The Autumn breezes seem to move The mammoth stony whales,[52] And send a tremor through their frames Vibrating all their scales. The Ku-mi[53] seeds float on the waste, As clouds of sombre hue; The lotus-flowers are crushed beneath The weight of frozen dew. While from the cloud-capped Pass[54] above, The eagle's eye aglow, Sees but an aged fisherman Midst lakes and streams below. [49] The Emperor Wu of the Han Dynasty ascended the throne 140 B.C. [50] A lake probably situated to the south-west of Chang-an, the capital of China in the Han Dynasty. This city is now the provincial capital of Shen-si and better known as Si-an. [51] A stone image of the Spinning-Maid stood on one shore of the lake, and another of the Cowherd on the opposite shore. [52] A stone image of an immense fish covered with finely carved scales was also placed by the side of the lake. [53] A kind of rice. [54] Probably the celebrated 'Tung' Pass near Chang-an. The whole poem has a political signification implying that revolution had turned the country into a wilderness, and desolation taken the place of former prosperity and greatness. _Reflections_ BY CHANG KIU-LING The foliage of the lilies in the Spring In glowing freshness shows its vernal birth; While in the Autumn cassia-blossoms bright Renew the beauty of the fading earth. In seasons such as these our hearts rejoice, And deeper thoughts arise within the mind, As Nature woos us in a tender mood, And teaches lessons that are true and kind. Who would not be as grass and flowers and trees, That denizen the forest and the hill, And listening to the music of the winds, With sympathy and mutual gladness thrill! For flowers have natures teaching them to live In sweet content in glen, or glade, or field; By plucking them fair women cannot add Aught to the happiness their own lives yield. These four stanzas are but a section of a long poem. In this allegory the poet reveals his own distaste for official life and his love of Nature. Beautiful women cannot add to the happiness of the flowers by plucking them, &c., implies that the Emperor cannot increase the happiness of the poet by appointing him to high official posts, and inviting him to the Court. _Pride and Humility_[55] BY CHANG-KIU-LING T'ANG DYNASTY (A.D. 618-905) I'm but a sea-bird, wandering here alone, And dare not call the ponds and lakes my own; But what are those two lovely birds on high, Shining resplendent 'gainst the morning sky? Upon the top bough of the San-Chu[56] tree, Presumptuously they build that all may see; Their feathers than the iris lovelier far, What if a missile should their beauty mar! Such brilliant robes, which they with joy expose, Might well excite the envy of their foes; And even the gods may view with dire disdain The high ambition of the proud and vain. Now I in quiet obscurity can roam Far from my nest, flecked by the ocean's foam; Yet, in a world where greed is always rife, No one would raise a hand to take my life. [55] This translation is only a portion of a long poem. [56] A mythical tree of the genii; but in the poem it may mean a very conspicuous tree. _Dwellers in the Peach Stream Valley_[57] BY CHANG-HSÜEN T'SING DYNASTY While the master was wrapped in slumber the fishing-boat slipped its stake, And drifted, and swirled, and drifted far over the broadening lake, Till islets, and mainland, and forests came into view once more, While the fisherman gazed and pondered the lay of the new-found shore. But erelong he espied an opening, shown by the broken wave, And in venturous mood he steered his boat into a narrow cave, Where an azure mist obscured the scenes through channels long and low, As the current bore him gently into a world of long ago. In this old, flower-bestrewèd land, at first no path the eye could tell, For on the streams and on the banks the red rain of peach flowers fell; Yet from the purple-shadowed mountains which screened this favoured land Flowed forth the Peach-Fount river along its bed of silver sand; But, winding with the stream, the thickset peach-tree groves with red-veined flowers Hid the cooling waters flowing in and out the shady bowers. And here and there along the banks, set in nooks of calm repose, Were cottage homes of rustic work from which the wreathed blue smoke arose; Showing that in this happy valley beyond the world's dull roar, Life went on as sweet and simple as in the golden days of yore, And the people of this valley in their ancient garments clad Were courteous in their manners and rejoiced in all they had; While the dogs and fowls beside them harmonized with all at hand, And the mulberry-tree and flax-plant hid the former barren land. When the dwellers in this favoured region saw the stranger guest, They set before him food and wine and kindly bade him rest; And when true courtesy allowed they asked of the things and men In the world of sin and sorrow far beyond their quiet life's ken. And when the time to leave them came, and the stranger could not stay, They led him through the cavern's channels and saw him sail away. In after life the fisherman often tried again, but failed To find the opening to the Valley through which he once had sailed; But when the sand of life through the glass its course had nearly run, He thought he saw the way lay to it beyond the westering sun. [57] There are many versions of this legend both in poetry and prose. The introductory and closing lines of the translation are partly based on other versions of the story than that in the poem translated. This poem and 'The Fishermen's Song', and 'The Students' Ramble', are taken from 'A Selection of Poems' written by successful graduates at the Government Examinations during the present dynasty. Many of these prize poems are cleverly and beautifully written, and they reveal considerable poetic talent, but not the power and genius found in the work of ancient Chinese poets. _The Five Sons_ BY TAO TSIEN T'SIN DYNASTY (A.D. 265-419) I am wrinkled and gray, And old before my day; For on five sons I look, And not one loves a book. Ah-Shu is sixteen years, The sight of work he fears; He is the laziest lout You'd find the world throughout. Ah-süen has tried in vain A little wit to gain; He shirks the student's stool, At grammar he's a fool! Yong-twan is thirteen now, And yet I do avow He can't discriminate The figures six and eight![58] Tong-tze is only nine, But clearly does opine That life, with all its cares, Consists of nuts and pears. Alas, that Fate so dour On me her vials should pour! What can I do but dine, And drown my woes in wine! [58] Implies that he is a thorough dunce. _The Journey Back_ BY A POET OF THE HAN DYNASTY NAME UNKNOWN[59] (206 B.C. TO A.D. 220) The journey back has now begun, The Chariot winds along the road-- The road which seems for aye to run To me with my sad load! How vast the wilderness around, As o'er the endless track we pass; The only moving thing and sound-- The east wind through the grass! The things I see are not the old, As mile on mile the way is won, And quick as these things change are told Our years--and age comes on. By nature's law each cycle brings A time to flourish and decay, And, with her perishable things, We, too, must pass away. No power have we with time to brave, As iron and stone, the grave's stern claim, One treasure only can we save-- An everlasting fame. [59] The poet's name is unknown, but he (or she?) lived during the Han Dynasty (206 B.C. to A.D. 220), or earlier. _The Gallant Captain and the Innkeeper's Wife_ BY SIN YEN-NIEN HAN DYNASTY (206 B.C. TO A.D. 220) Among the near attendants of the famous General Ho,[60] The Champion of the Emperor Wu and terror of his foe, Was a gay and gilded youth of the name of Fung Tze-tu, Who loved to slay the fair sex as the general did Hsiong-nu; Presuming on his master's fame he bantered every girl, And fancied he himself was great--he lived in such a whirl. The landlord of the wine-shop was scarcely a man of means, But had a young and pretty wife not yet out of her teens; And with this charming lady Fung Tze-tu was wont to flirt; But though so young and charming she was very much alert. One day in Spring this hostess fair, in gracious serving mood, Alone attended to the wants of guests for wine and food. Attired in flowing skirt, and girdled loose with girlish wile, Embroidered vest and wide-sleeved outer robe of ancient style; Her slender head on either side with massive tresses graced, And crowned with Lan-tien[61] jade, below with Ta-tsin[62] pearls enlaced: This young and dainty figure, said the gallants with a sigh, Was a sight with which no other on this earth could ever vie; And as they posed before her in their elegant attire, She deftly filled their glasses, and allowed them to admire. Just as this dainty hostess stood alone within the inn, Preparing special vintages selected from the bin, Up rode a gay young officer with canopy of rank, Accompanied by attendants afoot on either flank; His charger's handsome trappings richly bound at every joint, And silver-mounted saddle burnished to the flashing point,-- Alighting from his horse there stood the son of the Kin-Wu,[63] The very gallant officer, the dashing Fung Tze-tu. He called for wine in tasselled jug, and carp on golden plate, And thought such lavish bravery the lady would elate; Besides such show he offered her a mirror burnished bright, Together with a red silk skirt of gauzy texture light; All these, he thought, must surely daze the eyes of woman vain, Who does not give her smiles for love, but for the greatest gain: Alas! within the lady's mind quite other thoughts found vent, More poignant when she spied within the red silk skirt a rent. The rent within the skirt, she mused, no pang in you has wrought, Nor would the loss of my good name cause you a serious thought; For men soon tire of wives and seek their joys in faces new, But wives are true to their first spouse and gallants do eschew; Among the lowly born, as in the camp or royal abode, Are women who are true to death to honour's stainless code: I thank you for the favours shown, brave son of the Kin-Wu, But this time you have loved in vain, my gallant Fung Tze-tu! [60] General Ho K'ü-ping, died 117 B.C., Commander of the Armies of Han Wu Ti in several victorious campaigns against the Hsiung-nu. [61] Lan-tien, a district in Shên-si, famous for its jade. [62] Ta-tsin, the Roman Empire. [63] A military officer of the Han Dynasty, holding a rank similar to that of Captain-General. _The Lady Chao-Chiün_[64] BY EO YANG SIU SONG DYNASTY (A.D. 960-1278) The Court of Han which shone with beauty rare Of high-born women dowered with faces fair, Had one within it, yet unknown to fame, Of lowly fortune but of gentle name. Now every flower had spared some hue or grace To form Chao-Chiün's divinely lovely face; But courtier's greed had barred the Palace gate, Which Chao-Chiün's father would not try to sate. Nor could the maid herself her beauty flaunt, And hold her fair name light for gold or taunt; Her Royal Master, therefore, did but jibe At portraits of her, painted for a bribe. And so this peerless girl was left alone, Who might have shared Yüen's imperial throne. But Yen-Show's greed at last itself betrayed, And charges grave against him were arrayed; Then traitor-like, as harried fox, or doe, He fled the Court to help the Northern foe; And with true portraits of the lovely maid, He fired the Tartar Chief his plans to aid. Abetted by this courtier, wise and arch, The Tartar armies crossed the Emperor's march, And devastated all the country near, From which the people fled in piteous fear. The Han King, conscious of his waning power, Now sought for terms of peace in danger's hour; And these were granted, if, with parlance brief The Lady Wang would wed the Tartar chief. But ere the peerless maiden left her home, To brave the mountains and the desert roam, The Emperor saw her, and his heart stood still, Yet basely feared to thwart the Tartar's will. The silence passed, he raved in passion's whirl, And slew the painter who had limned the girl; But useless were such puny acts, and cruel, Which to a burning throne were added fuel. For how could monarch, who perceived no more, Of things which happened near his Palace door, Expect to force the Hun to own his sway, Encamped in strength a thousand miles away? And so Chao-Chiün, beneath her weary load, With royal guards began the endless road, Watering with tears each lowly wayside flower, The sport, alas! of beauty's fateful power. [64] Chao-Chiün, or Wang Chao-Chiün, was a very beautiful girl who was precluded from entering the presence of the Emperor Yuan (Han Yuan Ti) by an avaricious courtier, Mao Yen-sheo, who bribed the court painter to present ugly portraits of Chao-Chiün to the Emperor, because her family would not pay the large sums of money he demanded. Afterwards Mao Yen-sheo's wiles became known to the Emperor, and he fled to the Khan of the Hsiung-nu to whom he showed a true portrait of Chao-Chiün. Thereupon the Khan invaded China with a great army, and demanded the Lady Chao-Chiün as the price of peace. Afraid to refuse, the Chinese Emperor surrendered Chao-Chiün to the Tartar chief who then retired beyond the Wall. According to a popular but untrustworthy version of this story, Chao-Chiün, when she reached the Heh-long Kiang (Amur River), jumped into the stream rather than cross the boundary which separated her from her native land. _Night on the Lake_ BY SU TONG-PO SONG DYNASTY (A.D. 960-1278) The breeze is sighing through the water grass, As up and down the narrow deck I pass; And through the rarest mist of Autumn night The rain-moon floods the lake with pallid light. The boatmen and the water-fowl sleep sound, And in their dreams see other worlds around; The big fish startled sneak in haste away, As flurried fox flees from the dawning day. In depths of night it seems the human soul Its sway o'er other things has lost control; I and my shadow play upon the strand That marks the boundary of the silent land. We watch the secret tides in noiseless work, Forming new isles where earthworms safely lurk; And on the moon--a monstrous pearl--we gaze, Looming through willow-trees in silver haze. Amidst our life of changing grief and woe, A glimpse of purer worlds will come and go, As on this lake when nature's holy power Speaks to us in the dark and silent hour. But hark, the cock crows; rings the temple bell! And birds awake in mountain, plain, and dell; The guardship beats its drum, the boats unmoor, While din and shouting on the hearer pour. _The Fishermen's Song_ PRIZE POEM, BY CHENG-CHENG T'SING DYNASTY The sun is sinking in the west, Bidding the fishermen think of rest. 'To-day,' they cry, 'no need to search, The people rush to buy our perch; Of shell-fish, too, we are bereft, We've scarcely half a basket left!' And at the piles of silver bright They laugh, and shout, 'Good wine to-night!' 'We'll with the village wits combine And drink our fill of "Luh-e"[65] wine; Then if we feel inclined to roam, The fisher-boys shall lead us home.' So off they go to the evening meal, And 'Luh-e' wine is drunk with zeal; And after draining every glass, They doff the fishers' coat of grass, And with wild shouts a net they seize And rush out in the evening breeze, Intent on catching the mirrored moon, Bright in the sea as the sun at noon. Tricked by the moon to their hearts' content, Shoreward they move on music bent; The pipes of Pan, and flutes, come out, Wine and music have a fine bout; Voices and instruments combined Soon leave no discord undefined! After the shouting and the din Even fishermen had to turn in; So spreading their sails in a sandy cave, And soothed by the sound of the lapping wave, Tired and languorous the reveller yields To sleep, and dreams of Elysian fields! [65] 'Luh-e,' the name of a famous wine. _The Students' Ramble_[66] BY LU-TEH T'SING DYNASTY No longer could the blue-robed students cling To essay, or angle, or such like thing; The white-fleeced sky in depths of sapphire blue, The mother-earth, in Spring's bewitching hue, Enticed them forth to ponder fresher lore, And gather strength from nature's boundless store, So leaving college desk, and book, and file, They tramp the green-robed country--mile on mile; But resting oft within some shady nook, By side of mountain rill or babbling brook. The voice of streams, the sweet air after showers On new-mown grass, and earth, and fragrant flowers; The depths of space, the everlasting hills; The unseen power that moves, and guides, and stills All animated nature's varied life And law reveals where all seemed useless strife-- Their sense enthralled, and coursing with their blood Through every vein in strong impetuous flood-- Divine and human, on this radiant day, Seemed nearer kin than even when we pray In marble temples to the unknown God, Or wayside fanes, by common people trod. But homeward now reluctantly they turn, Yet incense still to nature would they burn; So as they wind through woods of pine-trees tall, By willow-bordered streams where catkins fall, Their pent-up feelings, buried deep and long, Find voice in classic chants from ancient song. As chorus sweet, and solo clear and rare, Are wafted softly on the evening air, The water-fowl on village ponds and streams Are gently wakened from their summer dreams; While mingled with the scholars' choral lay The songs of peasants speed the closing day; And bird, or insect,--each its anthem sings, And little gift of praise to Heaven brings: Then as the sun is sinking in the west, And lighting up the regions of the blest, From nature's altar falls the sacred fire, And higher aims each student's heart inspire. [66] This is a free translation, yet nearly every word is implied in the original. A crudely literal translation would not reveal the thoughts aroused in the mind of a Chinese reader of the poem. _The Priest of T'ien Mountain_ BY LI TAI-PEH T'ANG DYNASTY (A.D. 618-913) I hear the distant baying of the hound Amid the waters murmuring around; I see the peach-flowers bearing crystal rain, The sportive deer around the forest fane. The waving tops of bamboo groves aspire In fleeting change the summer clouds to tire, While from the emerald peaks of many hills The sparkling cascades fall in fairy rills. Beneath the pines within this shady dell, I list in vain to hear the noontide bell;[67] The temple's empty, and the priest has gone, And I am left to mourn my grief alone. [67] The temple bell. _Maidens By the River-side_ BY YUH YONG THE NORTHERN WEI DYNASTY (A.D. 386-532) Maidens robed in gauzy dresses, Heads adorned with lustrous tresses, Nestling pearls in soft caresses, Trip along the river-side. Where the violet sweet reposes, And the wild flowers group in posies, Fairer than the queenly roses, Through the flowers they conquering glide. Where the cooling water gushes, Fitful shades of willow bushes Flee and hide among the rushes, Lest the maidens should deride. Tripping sylph-like, as the Graces, East wind blowing on their faces, Which it holds in soft embraces, And would ever there abide. _The Poet-Beggar_ BY TAO TSIEN T'SIN DYNASTY (A.D. 265-419) Impelled by hunger, forth I strode, But whither causing little care, While feeling life's oppressive load-- Too great for me to bear. At last your village here I reached, By tramping many weary miles, And knocking at an unknown door, You welcomed me with smiles. And when I roughly asked for food, Gave meat and wine my need to sate, And in a kind and friendly mood You chatted while I ate. Now having shared your generous cheer, And drained the oft refillèd glass, Revived and glad, unthanked I fear To let such goodness pass. A linen-bleacher, poor and old, Fed Han-Sin,[68] sprung of royal breed, From out her hard-earned scanty store In time of darkest need. Your kindly help to me this hour Is fraught with equal love and grace, Would I had Han-Sin's royal power, Thy bounty to replace. Alas! the fullness of my heart My tongue can only lamely tell, So now in simple verse I write Of kindness done so well. And though at last the muffled drum Will beat the end of earthly days, Throughout the cycles yet to come My verse shall speak your praise. [68] Han-Sin was the grandson of a prince of Han, whose State was annexed by the founder of the T'sin Dynasty. In early life Han-Sin suffered great poverty, and for some time was befriended by a poor woman who bleached flax. Afterwards he became the commander of the armies of Liu-Pang, the founder of the Han Dynasty, and regained his ancestral domain; he then sought out his friend, the flax-bleacher, and gave her 1,000 pieces of gold. 
8868	----	BOTCHAN (MASTER DARLING) By The Late Mr. Kin-nosuke Natsume TRANSLATED By Yasotaro Morri Revised by J. R. KENNEDY 1919 A NOTE BY THE TRANSLATOR No translation can expect to equal, much less to excel, the original. The excellence of a translation can only be judged by noting how far it has succeeded in reproducing the original tone, colors, style, the delicacy of sentiment, the force of inert strength, the peculiar expressions native to the language with which the original is written, or whatever is its marked characteristic. The ablest can do no more, and to want more than this will be demanding something impossible. Strictly speaking, the only way one can derive full benefit or enjoyment from a foreign work is to read the original, for any intelligence at second-hand never gives the kind of satisfaction which is possible only through the direct touch with the original. Even in the best translated work is probably wanted the subtle vitality natural to the original language, for it defies an attempt, however elaborate, to transmit all there is in the original. Correctness of diction may be there, but spontaneity is gone; it cannot be helped. The task of the translator becomes doubly hazardous in case of translating a European language into Japanese, or vice versa. Between any of the European languages and Japanese there is no visible kinship in word-form, significance, grammatical system, rhetorical arrangements. It may be said that the inspiration of the two languages is totally different. A want of similarity of customs, habits, traditions, national sentiments and traits makes the work of translation all the more difficult. A novel written in Japanese which had attained national popularity might, when rendered into English, lose its captivating vividness, alluring interest and lasting appeal to the reader. These remarks are made not in way of excuse for any faulty dictions that may be found in the following pages. Neither are they made out of personal modesty nor of a desire to add undue weight to the present work. They are made in the hope that whoever is good enough to go through the present translation will remember, before he may venture to make criticisms, the kind and extent of difficulties besetting him in his attempts so as not to judge the merit of the original by this translation. Nothing would afford the translator a greater pain than any unfavorable comment on the original based upon this translation. If there be any deserving merits in the following pages the credit is due to the original. Any fault found in its interpretation or in the English version, the whole responsibility is on the translator. For the benefit of those who may not know the original, it must be stated that "Botchan" by the late Mr. K. Natsume was an epoch-making piece of work. On its first appearance, Mr. Natsume's place and name as the foremost in the new literary school were firmly established. He had written many other novels of more serious intent, of heavier thoughts and of more enduring merits, but it was this "Botchan" that secured him the lasting fame. Its quaint style, dash and vigor in its narration appealed to the public who had become somewhat tired of the stereotyped sort of manner with which all stories had come to be handled. In its simplest understanding, "Botchan" may be taken as an episode in the life of a son born in Tokyo, hot-blooded, simple-hearted, pure as crystal and sturdy as a towering rock, honest and straight to a fault, intolerant of the least injustice and a volunteer ever ready to champion what he considers right and good. Children may read it as a "story of man who tried to be honest." It is a light, amusing and, at the name time, instructive story, with no tangle of love affairs, no scheme of blood-curdling scenes or nothing startling or sensational in the plot or characters. The story, however, may be regarded as a biting sarcasm on a hypocritical society in which a gang of instructors of dark character at a middle school in a backwoods town plays a prominent part. The hero of the story is made a victim of their annoying intrigues, but finally comes out triumphant by smashing the petty red tapism, knocking down the sham pretentions and by actual use of the fist on the Head Instructor and his henchman. The story will be found equally entertaining as a means of studying the peculiar traits of the native of Tokyo which are characterised by their quick temper, dashing spirit, generosity and by their readiness to resist even the lordly personage if convinced of their own justness, or to kneel down even to a child if they acknowledge their own wrong. Incidently the touching devotion of the old maid servant Kiyo to the hero will prove a standing reproach to the inconstant, unfaithful servants of which the number is ever increasing these days in Tokyo. The story becomes doubly interesting by the fact that Mr. K. Natsume, when quite young, held a position of teacher of English at a middle school somewhere about the same part of the country described in the story, while he himself was born and brought up in Tokyo. It may be added that the original is written in an autobiographical style. It is profusely interladed with spicy, catchy colloquials patent to the people of Tokyo for the equals of which we may look to the rattling speeches of notorious Chuck Conners of the Bowery of New York. It should be frankly stated that much difficulty was experienced in getting the corresponding terms in English for those catchy expressions. Strictly speaking, some of them have no English equivalents. Care has been exercised to select what has been thought most appropriate in the judgment or the translator in converting those expressions into English but some of them might provoke disapproval from those of the "cultured" class with "refined" ears. The slangs in English in this translation were taken from an American magazine of world-wide reputation editor of which was not afraid to print of "damn" when necessary, by scorning the timid, conventional way of putting it as "d--n." If the propriety of printing such short ugly words be questioned, the translator is sorry to say that no means now exists of directly bringing him to account for he met untimely death on board the Lusitania when it was sunk by the German submarine. Thanks are due to Mr. J. R. Kennedy, General Manager, and Mr. Henry Satoh, Editor-in-Chief, both of the Kokusai Tsushin-sha (the International News Agency) of Tokyo and a host of personal friends of the translator whose untiring assistance and kind suggestions have made the present translation possible. Without their sympathetic interests, this translation may not have seen the daylight. Tokyo, September, 1918. BOTCHAN (MASTER DARLING) CHAPTER I Because of an hereditary recklessness, I have been playing always a losing game since my childhood. During my grammar school days, I was once laid up for about a week by jumping from the second story of the school building. Some may ask why I committed such a rash act. There was no particular reason for doing such a thing except I happened to be looking out into the yard from the second floor of the newly-built school house, when one of my classmates, joking, shouted at me; "Say, you big bluff, I'll bet you can't jump down from there! O, you chicken-heart, ha, ha!" So I jumped down. The janitor of the school had to carry me home on his back, and when my father saw me, he yelled derisively, "What a fellow you are to go and get your bones dislocated by jumping only from a second story!" "I'll see I don't get dislocated next time," I answered. One of my relatives once presented me with a pen-knife. I was showing it to my friends, reflecting its pretty blades against the rays of the sun, when one of them chimed in that the blades gleamed all right, but seemed rather dull for cutting with. "Rather dull? See if they don't cut!" I retorted. "Cut your finger, then," he challenged. And with "Finger nothing! Here goes!" I cut my thumb slant-wise. Fortunately the knife was small and the bone of the thumb hard enough, so the thumb is still there, but the scar will be there until my death. About twenty steps to the east edge of our garden, there was a moderate-sized vegetable yard, rising toward the south, and in the centre of which stood a chestnut tree which was dearer to me than life. In the season when the chestnuts were ripe, I used to slip out of the house from the back door early in the morning to pick up the chestnuts which had fallen during the night, and eat them at the school. On the west side of the vegetable yard was the adjoining garden of a pawn shop called Yamashiro-ya. This shopkeeper's son was a boy about 13 or 14 years old named Kantaro. Kantaro was, it happens, a mollycoddle. Nevertheless he had the temerity to come over the fence to our yard and steal my chestnuts. One certain evening I hid myself behind a folding-gate of the fence and caught him in the act. Having his retreat cut off he grappled with me in desperation. He was about two years older than I, and, though weak-kneed, was physically the stronger. While I wallopped him, he pushed his head against my breast and by chance it slipped inside my sleeve. As this hindered the free action of my arm, I tried to shake him loose, though, his head dangled the further inside, and being no longer able to stand the stifling combat, he bit my bare arm. It was painful. I held him fast against the fence, and by a dexterous foot twist sent him down flat on his back. Kantaro broke the fence and as the ground belonging to Yamashiro-ya was about six feet lower than the vegetable yard, he fell headlong to his own territory with a thud. As he rolled off he tore away the sleeve in which his head had been enwrapped, and my arm recovered a sudden freedom of movement. That night when my mother went to Yamashiro-ya to apologize, she brought back that sleeve. Besides the above, I did many other mischiefs. With Kaneko of a carpenter shop and Kaku of a fishmarket, I once ruined a carrot patch of one Mosaku. The sprouts were just shooting out and the patch was covered with straws to ensure their even healthy growth. Upon this straw-covered patch, we three wrestled for fully half a day, and consequently thoroughly smashed all the sprouts. Also I once filled up a well which watered some rice fields owned by one Furukawa, and he followed me with kicks. The well was so devised that from a large bamboo pole, sunk deep into the ground, the water issued and irrigated the rice fields. Ignorant of the mechanical side of this irrigating method at that time, I stuffed the bamboo pole with stones and sticks, and satisfied that no more water came up, I returned home and was eating supper when Furukawa, fiery red with anger, burst into our house with howling protests. I believe the affair was settled on our paying for the damage. Father did not like me in the least, and mother always sided with my big brother. This brother's face was palish white, and he had a fondness for taking the part of an actress at the theatre. "This fellow will never amount to much," father used to remark when he saw me. "He's so reckless that I worry about his future," I often heard mother say of me. Exactly; I have never amounted to much. I am just as you see me; no wonder my future used to cause anxiety to my mother. I am living without becoming but a jailbird. Two or three days previous to my mother's death, I took it into my head to turn a somersault in the kitchen, and painfully hit my ribs against the corner of the stove. Mother was very angry at this and told me not to show my face again, so I went to a relative to stay with. While there, I received the news that my mother's illness had become very serious, and that after all efforts for her recovery, she was dead. I came home thinking that I should have behaved better if I had known the conditions were so serious as that. Then that big brother of mine denounced me as wanting in filial piety, and that I had caused her untimely death. Mortified at this, I slapped his face, and thereupon received a sound scolding from father. After the death of mother, I lived with father and brother. Father did nothing, and always said "You're no good" to my face. What he meant by "no good" I am yet to understand. A funny dad he was. My brother was to be seen studying English hard, saying that he was going to be a businessman. He was like a girl by nature, and so "sassy" that we two were never on good terms, and had to fight it out about once every ten days. When we played a chess game one day, he placed a chessman as a "waiter,"--a cowardly tactic this,--and had hearty laugh on me by seeing me in a fix. His manner was so trying that time that I banged a chessman on his forehead which was injured a little bit and bled. He told all about this to father, who said he would disinherit me. Then I gave up myself for lost, and expected to be really disinherited. But our maid Kiyo, who had been with us for ten years or so, interceded on my behalf, and tearfully apologized for me, and by her appeal my father's wrath was softened. I did not regard him, however, as one to be afraid of in any way, but rather felt sorry for our Kiyo. I had heard that Kiyo was of a decent, well-to-do family, but being driven to poverty at the time of the Restoration, had to work as a servant. So she was an old woman by this time. This old woman,--by what affinity, as the Buddhists say, I don't know,--loved me a great deal. Strange, indeed! She was almost blindly fond of me,--me, whom mother, became thoroughly disgusted with three days before her death; whom father considered a most aggravating proposition all the year round, and whom the neighbors cordially hated as the local bully among the youngsters. I had long reconciled myself to the fact that my nature was far from being attractive to others, and so didn't mind if I were treated as a piece of wood; so I thought it uncommon that Kiyo should pet me like that. Sometimes in the kitchen, when there was nobody around, she would praise me saying that I was straightforward and of a good disposition. What she meant by that exactly, was not clear to me, however. If I were of so good a nature as she said, I imagined those other than Kiyo should accord me a better treatment. So whenever Kiyo said to me anything of the kind, I used to answer that I did not like passing compliments. Then she would remark; "That's the very reason I say you are of a good disposition," and would gaze at me with absorbing tenderness. She seemed to recreate me by her own imagination, and was proud of the fact. I felt even chilled through my marrow at her constant attention to me. After my mother was dead, Kiyo loved me still more. In my simple reasoning, I wondered why she had taken such a fancy to me. Sometimes I thought it quite futile on her part, that she had better quit that sort of thing, which was bad for her. But she loved me just the same. Once in, a while she would buy, out of her own pocket, some cakes or sweetmeats for me. When the night was cold, she would secretly buy some noodle powder, and bring all unawares hot noodle gruel to my bed; or sometimes she would even buy a bowl of steaming noodles from the peddler. Not only with edibles, but she was generous alike with socks, pencils, note books, etc. And she even furnished me,--this happened some time later,--with about three yen, I did not ask her for the money; she offered it from her own good will by bringing it to my room, saying that I might be in need of some cash. This, of course, embarrassed me, but as she was so insistent I consented to borrow it. I confess I was really glad of the money. I put it in a bag, and carried it in my pocket. While about the house, I happened to drop the bag into a cesspool. Helpless, I told Kiyo how I had lost the money, and at once she fetched a bamboo stick, and said she will get it for me. After a while I heard a splashing sound of water about our family well, and going there, saw Kiyo washing the bag strung on the end of the stick. I opened the bag and found the edict of the three one-yen bills turned to faint yellow and designs fading. Kiyo dried them at an open fire and handed them over to me, asking if they were all right. I smelled them and said; "They stink yet." "Give them to me; I'll get them changed." She took those three bills, and,--I do not know how she went about it,--brought three yen in silver. I forget now upon what I spent the three yen. "I'll pay you back soon," I said at the time, but didn't. I could not now pay it back even if I wished to do so with ten times the amount. When Kiyo gave me anything she did so always when both father and brother were out. Many things I do not like, but what I most detest is the monopolizing of favors behind some one else's back. Bad as my relations were with my brother, still I did not feel justified in accepting candies or color-pencils from Kiyo without my brother's knowledge. "Why do you give those things only to me and not to my brother also?" I asked her once, and she answered quite unconcernedly that my brother may be left to himself as his father bought him everything. That was partiality; father was obstinate, but I am sure he was not a man who would indulge in favoritism. To Kiyo, however, he might have looked that way. There is no doubt that Kiyo was blind to the extent of her undue indulgence with me. She was said to have come from a well-to-do family, but the poor soul was uneducated, and it could not be helped. All the same, you cannot tell how prejudice will drive one to the extremes. Kiyo seemed quite sure that some day I would achieve high position in society and become famous. Equally she was sure that my brother, who was spending his hours studiously, was only good for his white skin, and would stand no show in the future. Nothing can beat an old woman for this sort of thing, I tell you. She firmly believed that whoever she liked would become famous, while whoever she hated would not. I did not have at that time any particular object in my life. But the persistency with which Kiyo declared that I would be a great man some day, made me speculate myself that after all I might become one. How absurd it seems to me now when I recall those days. I asked her once what kind of a man I should be, but she seemed to have formed no concrete idea as to that; only she said that I was sure to live in a house with grand entrance hall, and ride in a private rikisha. And Kiyo seemed to have decided for herself to live with me when I became independent and occupy my own house. "Please let me live with you,"--she repeatedly asked of me. Feeling somewhat that I should eventually be able to own a house, I answered her "Yes," as far as such an answer went. This woman, by the way, was strongly imaginative. She questioned me what place I liked,--Kojimachi-ku or Azabu-ku?--and suggested that I should have a swing in our garden, that one room be enough for European style, etc., planning everything to suit her own fancy. I did not then care a straw for anything like a house; so neither Japanese nor European style was much of use to me, and I told her to that effect. Then she would praise me as uncovetous and clean of heart. Whatever I said, she had praise for me. I lived, after the death of mother, in this fashion for five or six years. I had kicks from father, had rows with brother, and had candies and praise from Kiyo. I cared for nothing more; I thought this was enough. I imagined all other boys were leading about the same kind of life. As Kiyo frequently told me, however, that I was to be pitied, and was unfortunate, I imagined that that might be so. There was nothing that particularly worried me except that father was too tight with my pocket money, and this was rather hard on me. In January of the 6th year after mother's death, father died of apoplexy. In April of the same year, I graduated from a middle school, and two months later, my brother graduated from a business college. Soon he obtained a job in the Kyushu branch of a certain firm and had to go there, while I had to remain in Tokyo and continue my study. He proposed the sale of our house and the realization of our property, to which I answered "Just as you like it." I had no intention of depending upon him anyway. Even were he to look after me, I was sure of his starting something which would eventually end in a smash-up as we were prone to quarrel on the least pretext. It was because in order to receive his protection that I should have to bow before such a fellow, that I resolved that I would live by myself even if I had to do milk delivery. Shortly afterwards he sent for a second-hand dealer and sold for a song all the bric-a-bric which had been handed down from ages ago in our family. Our house and lot were sold, through the efforts of a middleman to a wealthy person. This transaction seemed to have netted a goodly sum to him, but I know nothing as to the detail. For one month previous to this, I had been rooming in a boarding house in Kanda-ku, pending a decision as to my future course. Kiyo was greatly grieved to see the house in which she had lived so many years change ownership, but she was helpless in the matter. "If you were a little older, you might have inherited this house," she once remarked in earnest. If I could have inherited the house through being a little older, I ought to have been able to inherit the house right then. She knew nothing, and believed the lack of age only prevented my coming into the possession of the house. Thus I parted from my brother, but the disposal of Kiyo was a difficult proposition. My brother was, of course, unable to take her along, nor was there any danger of her following him so far away as Kyushu, while I was in a small room of a boarding house, and might have to clear out anytime at that. There was no way out, so I asked her if she intended to work somewhere else. Finally she answered me definitely that she would go to her nephew's and wait until I started my own house and get married. This nephew was a clerk in the Court of Justice, and being fairly well off, had invited Kiyo before more than once to come and live with him, but Kiyo preferred to stay with us, even as a servant, since she had become well used to our family. But now I think she thought it better to go over to her nephew than to start a new life as servant in a strange house. Be that as it may, she advised me to have my own household soon, or get married, so she would come and help me in housekeeping. I believe she liked me more than she did her own kin. My brother came to me, two days previous to his departure for Kyushu, and giving me 600 yen, said that I might begin a business with it, or go ahead with my study, or spend it in any way I liked, but that that would be the last he could spare. It was a commendable act for my brother. What! about only 600 yen! I could get along without it, I thought, but as this unusually simple manner appealed to me, I accepted the offer with thanks. Then he produced 50 yen, requesting me to give it to Kiyo next time I saw her, which I readily complied with. Two days after, I saw him off at the Shimbashi Station, and have not set my eyes on him ever since. Lying in my bed, I meditated on the best way to spend that 600 yen. A business is fraught with too much trouble, and besides it was not my calling. Moreover with only 600 yen no one could open a business worth the name. Were I even able to do it, I was far from being educated, and after all, would lose it. Better let investments alone, but study more with the money. Dividing the 600 yen into three, and by spending 200 yen a year, I could study for three years. If I kept at one study with bull-dog tenacity for three years, I should be able to learn something. Then the selection of a school was the next problem. By nature, there is no branch of study whatever which appeals to my taste. Nix on languages or literature! The new poetry was all Greek to me; I could not make out one single line of twenty. Since I detested every kind of study, any kind of study should have been the same to me. Thinking thus, I happened to pass front of a school of physics, and seeing a sign posted for the admittance of more students, I thought this might be a kind of "affinity," and having asked for the prospectus, at once filed my application for entrance. When I think of it now, it was a blunder due to my hereditary recklessness. For three years I studied about as diligently as ordinary fellows, but not being of a particularly brilliant quality, my standing in the class was easier to find by looking up from the bottom. Strange, isn't it, that when three years were over, I graduated? I had to laugh at myself, but there being no reason for complaint, I passed out. Eight days after my graduation, the principal of the school asked me to come over and see him. I wondered what he wanted, and went. A middle school in Shikoku was in need of a teacher of mathematics for forty yen a month, and he sounded me to see if I would take it. I had studied for three years, but to tell the truth, I had no intention of either teaching or going to the country. Having nothing in sight, however, except teaching, I readily accepted the offer. This too was a blunder due to hereditary recklessness. I accepted the position, and so must go there. The three years of my school life I had seen confined in a small room, but with no kick coming or having no rough house. It was a comparatively easy going period in my life. But now I had to pack up. Once I went to Kamakura on a picnic with my classmates while I was in the grammar school, and that was the first and last, so far, that I stepped outside of Tokyo since I could remember. This time I must go darn far away, that it beats Kamakura by a mile. The prospective town is situated on the coast, and looked the size of a needle-point on the map. It would not be much to look at anyway. I knew nothing about the place or the people there. It did not worry me or cause any anxiety. I had simply to travel there and that was the annoying part. Once in a while, since our house was no more, I went to Kiyo's nephew's to see her. Her nephew was unusually good-natured, and whenever I called upon her, he treated me well if he happened to be at home. Kiyo would boost me sky-high to her nephew right to my face. She went so far once as to say that when I had graduated from school, I would purchase a house somewhere in Kojimachi-ku and get a position in a government office. She decided everything in her own way, and talked of it aloud, and I was made an unwilling and bashful listener. I do not know how her nephew weighed her tales of self-indulgence on me. Kiyo was a woman of the old type, and seemed, as if it was still the days of Feudal Lords, to regard her nephew equally under obligation to me even as she was herself. After settling about my new position, I called upon her three days previous to my departure. She was sick abed in a small room, but, on seeing me she got up and immediately inquired; "Master Darling, when do you begin housekeeping?" She evidently thought as soon as a fellow finishes school, money comes to his pocket by itself. But then how absurd to call such a "great man" "Darling." I told her simply that I should let the house proposition go for some time, as I had to go to the country. She looked greatly disappointed, and blankly smoothed her gray-haired sidelocks. I felt sorry for her, and said comfortingly; "I am going away but will come back soon. I'll return in the vacation next summer, sure." Still as she appeared not fully satisfied, I added; "Will bring you back a surprise. What do you like?" She wished to eat "sasa-ame"[1] of Echigo province. I had never heard of "sasa-ame" of Echigo. To begin with, the location is entirely different. [Footnote 1: Sasa-ame is a kind of rice-jelly wrapped with sasa, or the bamboo leaves, well-known as a product of Echigo province.] "There seems to be no 'sasa-ame' in the country where I'm going," I explained, and she rejoined; "Then, in what direction?" I answered "westward" and she came back with "Is it on the other side of Hakone?" This give-and-take conversation proved too much for me. On the day of my departure, she came to my room early in the morning and helped me to pack up. She put into my carpet-bag tooth powder, tooth-brush and towels which she said she had bought at a dry goods store on her way. I protested that I did not want them, but she was insistent.[A] We rode in rikishas to the station. Coming up the platform, she gazed at me from outside the car, and said in a low voice; "This may be our last good-by. Take care of yourself." Her eyes were full of tears. I did not cry, but was almost going to. After the train had run some distance, thinking it would be all right now, I poked my head out of the window and looked back. She was still there. She looked very small. CHAPTER II. With a long, sonorous whistle the steamer which I was aboard came to a standstill, and a boat was seen making toward us from the shore. The man rowing the boat was stark naked, except for a piece of red cloth girt round his loins. A barbarous place, this! though he may have been excused for it in such hot weather as it was. The sun's rays were strong and the water glimmered in such strange colors as to dazzle one's sight if gazed at it for long. I had been told by a clerk of the ship that I was to get off here. The place looked like a fishing village about the size of Omori. Great Scott! I wouldn't stay in such a hole, I thought, but I had to get out. So, down I jumped first into the boat, and I think five or six others followed me. After loading about four large boxes besides, the red-cloth rowed us ashore. When the boat struck the sand, I was again the first to jump out, and right away I accosted a skinny urchin standing nearby, asking him where the middle school was. The kid answered blankly that he did not know. Confound the dull-head! Not to know where the middle school was, living in such a tiny bit of a town. Then a man wearing a rig with short, queer shaped sleeves approached me and bade me follow. I walked after him and was taken to an inn called Minato-ya. The maids of the inn, who gave me a disagreeable impression, chorused at sight of me; "Please step inside." This discouraged me in proceeding further, and I asked them, standing at the door-way, to show me the middle school. On being told that the middle school was about four miles away by rail, I became still more discouraged at putting up there. I snatched my two valises from the man with queer-shaped [B] sleeves who had guided me so far, and strode away. The people of the inn looked after me with a dazed expression. The station was easily found, and a ticket bought without any fuss. The coach I got in was about as dignified as a match-box. The train rambled on for about five minutes, and then I had to get off. No wonder the fare was cheap; it cost only three sen. I then hired a rikisha and arrived at the middle school, but school was already over and nobody was there. The teacher on night-duty was out just for a while, said the janitor,--the night-watch was taking life easy, sure. I thought of visiting the principal, but being tired, ordered the rikishaman to take me to a hotel. He did this with much alacrity and led me to a hotel called Yamashiro-ya. I felt it rather amusing to find the name Yamashiro-ya the same as that of Kantaro's house. They ushered me to a dark room below the stairway. No one could stay in such a hot place! I said I did not like such a warm room, but the maid dumped my valises on the floor and left me, mumbling that all the other rooms were occupied. So I took the room though it took some resolution to stand the weltering heat. After a while the maid said the bath was ready, and I took one: On my way back from the bathroom, I peeped about, and found many rooms, which looked much cooler than mine, vacant. Sunnovagun! They had lied. By'm-by, she fetched my supper. Although the room was hot, the meal was a deal better than the kind I used to have in my boarding house. While waiting on me, she questioned me where I was from, and I said, "from Tokyo." Then she asked; "Isn't Tokyo a nice place?" and I shot back, "Bet 'tis." About the time the maid had reached the kitchen, loud laughs were heard. There was nothing doing, so I went to bed, but could not sleep. Not only was it hot, but noisy,--about five times noisier than my boarding house. While snoozing, I dreamed of Kiyo. She was eating "sasa-ame" of Echigo province without taking off the wrapper of bamboo leaves. I tried to stop her, saying bamboo leaves may do her harm, but she replied, "O, no, these leaves are very helpful for the health," and ate them with much relish. Astounded, I laughed "Ha, ha, ha!"--and so awoke. The maid was opening the outside shutters. The weather was just as clear as the previous day. I had heard once before that when travelling, one should give "tea money" to the hotel or inn where he stops; that unless this "tea money" is given, the hostelry would accord him rather rough treatment. It must have been on account of my being slow in the fork over of this "tea money" that they had huddled me into such a narrow, dark room. Likewise my shabby clothes and the carpet bags and satin umbrella must have been accountable for it. Took me for a piker, eh? those hayseeds! I would give them a knocker with "tea money." I left Tokyo with about 30 yen in my pocket, which remained from my school expenses. Taking off the railway and steamship fare, and other incidental expenses, I had still about 14 yen in my pocket. I could give them all I had;--what did I care, I was going to get a salary now. All country folk are tight-wads, and one 5-yen bill would hit them square. Now watch and see. Having washed myself, I returned to my room and waited, and the maid of the night before brought in my breakfast. Waiting on me with a tray, she looked at me with a sort of sulphuric smile. Rude! Is any parade marching on my face? I should say. Even my face is far better than that of the maid. I intended of giving "tea money" after breakfast, but I became disgusted, and taking out one 5-yen bill told her to take it to the office later. The face of the maid became then shy and awkward. After the meal, I left for the school. The maid did not have my shoes polished. I had had vague idea of the direction of the school as I rode to it the previous day, so turning two or three corners, I came to the front gate. From the gate to the entrance the walk was paved with granite. When I had passed to the entrance in the rikisha, this walk made so outlandishly a loud noise that I had felt coy. On my way to the school, I met a number of the students in uniforms of cotton drill and they all entered this gate. Some of them were taller than I and looked much stronger. When I thought of teaching fellows of this ilk, I was impressed with a queer sort of uneasiness. My card was taken to the principal, to whose room I was ushered at once. With scant mustache, dark-skinned and big-eyed, the principal was a man who looked like a badger. He studiously assumed an air of superiority, and saying he would like to see me do my best, handed the note of appointment, stamped big, in a solemn manner. This note I threw away into the sea on my way back to Tokyo. He said he would introduce me to all my fellow teachers, and I was to show to each one of them the note of appointment. What a bother! It would be far better to stick this note up in the teachers' room for three days instead of going through such a monkey process. The teachers would not be all in the room until the bugle for the first hour was sounded. There was plenty of time. The principal took out his watch, and saying that he would acquaint me particularly with the school by-and-bye, he would only furnish me now with general matters, and started a long lecture on the spirit of education. For a while I listened to him with my mind half away somewhere else, but about half way through his lecture, I began to realize that I should soon be in a bad fix. I could not do, by any means, all he expected of me. He expected that I should make myself an example to the students, should become an object of admiration for the whole school or should exert my moral influence, besides teaching technical knowledge in order to become a real educator, or something ridiculously high-sounding. No man with such admirable qualities would come so far away for only 40 yen a month! Men are generally alike. If one gets excited, one is liable to fight, I thought, but if things are to be kept on in the way the principal says, I could hardly open my mouth to utter anything, nor take a stroll around the place. If they wanted me to fill such an onerous post, they should have told all that before. I hate to tell a lie; I would give it up as having been cheated, and get out of this mess like a man there and then. I had only about 9 yen left in my pocket after tipping the hotel 5 yen. Nine yen would not take me back to Tokyo. I had better not have tipped the hotel; what a pity! However, I would be able to manage it somehow. I considered it better to run short in my return expenses than to tell a lie. "I cannot do it the way you want me to. I return this appointment." I shoved back the note. The principal winked his badger-like eyes and gazed at me. Then he said; "What I have said just now is what I desire of you. I know well that you cannot do all I want, So don't worry." And he laughed. If he knew it so well already, what on earth did he scare me for? Meanwhile the bugle sounded, being followed by bustling noises in the direction of the class rooms. All the teachers would be now ready, I was told, and I followed the principal to the teachers' room. In a spacious rectangular room, they sat each before a table lined along the walls. When I entered the room, they all glanced at me as if by previous agreement. Did they think my face was for a show? Then, as per instructions, I introduced myself and showed the note to each one of them. Most of them left their chairs and made a slight bow of acknowledgment. But some of the more painfully polite took the note and read it and respectfully returned it to me, just like the cheap performances at a rural show! When I came to the fifteenth, who was the teacher of physical training, I became impatient at repeating the same old thing so often. The other side had to do it only once, but my side had to do it fifteen times. They ought to have had some sympathy. Among those I met in the room there was Mr. Blank who was head teacher. Said he was a Bachelor of Arts. I suppose he was a great man since he was a graduate from Imperial University and had such a title. He talked in a strangely effeminate voice like a woman. But what surprised me most was that he wore a flannel shirt. However thin it might be, flannel is flannel and must have been pretty warm at that time of the year. What painstaking dress is required which will be becoming to a B.A.! And it was a red shirt; wouldn't that kill you! I heard afterwards that he wears a red shirt all the year round. What a strange affliction! According to his own explanation, he has his shirts made to order for the sake of his health as the red color is beneficial to the physical condition. Unnecessary worry, this, for that being the case, he should have had his coat and hakama also in red. And there was one Mr. Koga, teacher of English, whose complexion was very pale. Pale-faced people are usually thin, but this man was pale and fat. When I was attending grammar school, there was one Tami Asai in our class, and his father was just as pale as this Koga. Asai was a farmer, and I asked Kiyo if one's face would become pale if he took up farming. Kiyo said it was not so; Asai ate always Hubbard squash of "uranari" [2] and that was the reason. Thereafter when I saw any man pale and fat, I took it for granted that it was the result of his having eaten too much of squash of "uranari." This English teacher was surely subsisting upon squash. However, what the meaning of "uranari" is, I do not know. I asked Kiyo once, but she only laughed. Probably she did not know. Among the teachers of mathematics, there was one named Hotta. This was a fellow of massive body, with hair closely cropped. He looked like one of the old-time devilish priests who made the Eizan temple famous. I showed him the note politely, but he did not even look at it, and blurted out; "You're the man newly appointed, eh? Come and see me sometime, ha, ha, ha!" [Footnote 2: Means the last crop.] Devil take his "Ha, ha, ha!" Who would go to see a fellow so void of the sense of common decency! I gave this priest from this time the nickname of Porcupine. The Confucian teacher was strict in his manner as becoming to his profession. "Arrived yesterday? You must be tired. Start teaching already? Working hard, indeed!"--and so on. He was an old man, quite sociable and talkative. The teacher of drawing was altogether like a cheap actor. He wore a thin, flappy haori of sukiya, and, toying with a fan, he giggled; "Where from? eh? Tokyo? Glad to hear that. You make another of our group. I'm a Tokyo kid myself." If such a fellow prided himself on being a Tokyo kid, I wished I had never been born in Tokyo. I might go on writing about each one of them, for there are many, but I stop here otherwise there will be no end to it. When my formal introduction was over, the principal said that I might go for the day, but I should make arrangements as to the class hours, etc., with the head teacher of mathematics and begin teaching from the day after the morrow. Asked who was the head teacher of mathematics, I found that he was no other than that Porcupine. Holy smokes! was I to serve under him? I was disappointed. "Say, where are you stopping? Yamashiro-ya? Well, I'll come and talk it over." So saying, Porcupine, chalk in hand, left the room to his class. That was rather humiliating for a head-teacher to come over and see his subordinate, but it was better than to call me over to him. After leaving the school, I thought of returning straight to the hotel, but as there was nothing to do, I decided to take in a little of the town, and started walking about following my nose. I saw prefectural building; it was an old structure of the last century. Also I saw the barracks; they were less imposing than those of the Azabu Regiment, Tokyo. I passed through the main street. The width of the street is about one half that of Kagurazaka, and its aspect is inferior. What about a castle-town of 250,000-koku Lord! Pity the fellows who get swell-headed in such a place as a castle-town! While I walked about musing like this, I found myself in front of Yamashiro-ya. The town was much narrower than I had been led to believe. "I think I have seen nearly all. Guess I'll return and eat." And I entered the gate. The mistress of the hotel who was sitting at the counter, jumped out of her place at my appearance and with "Are you back, Sire!" scraped the floor with her forehead. When I took my shoes off and stepped inside, the maid took me to an upstairs room that had became vacant. It was a front room of 15 mats (about 90 square feet). I had never before lived in so splendid a room as this. As it was quite uncertain when I should again be able to occupy such a room in future, I took off my European dress, and with only a single Japanese summer coat on, sprawled in the centre of the room in the shape of the Japanese letter "big" (arms stretched out and legs spread wide[D]). I found it very refreshing. After luncheon I at once wrote a letter to Kiyo. I hate most to write letters because I am poor at sentence-making and also poor in my stock of words. Neither did I have any place to which to address my letters. However, Kiyo might be getting anxious. It would not do to let her worry lest she think the steamer which I boarded had been wrecked and I was drowned,--so I braced up and wrote a long one. The body of the letter was as follows: "Arrived yesterday. A dull place. Am sleeping in a room of 15 mats. Tipped the hotel five yen as tea money. The house-wife of the hotel scraped the floor with her forehead. Couldn't sleep last night. Dreamed Kiyo eat sasa-ame together with the bamboo-leaf wrappers. Will return next summer. Went to the school to-day, and nicknamed all the fellows. 'Badger' for the principal, 'Red Shirt' for the head-teacher, 'Hubbard Squash' for the teacher of English, 'Porcupine' the teacher of mathematics and 'Clown' for that of drawing. Will write you many other things soon. Good bye." When I finished writing the letter, I felt better and sleepy. So I slept in the centre of the room, as I had done before, in the letter "big" shape ([D]). No dream this time, and I had a sound sleep. "Is this the room?"--a loud voice was heard,--a voice which woke me up, and Porcupine entered. "How do you do? What you have to do in the school----" he began talking shop as soon as I got up and rattled me much. On learning my duties in the school, there seemed to be no difficulty, and I decided to accept. If only such were what was expected of me, I would not be surprised were I told to start not only two days hence but even from the following day. The talk on business over, Porcupine said that he did not think it was my intention to stay in such a hotel all the time, that he would find a room for me in a good boarding house, and that I should move. "They wouldn't take in another from anybody else but I can do it right away. The sooner the better. Go and look at the room to-day, move tomorrow and start teaching from the next day. That'll be all nice and settled." He seemed satisfied by arranging all by himself. Indeed, I should not be able to occupy such a room for long. I might have to blow in all of my salary for the hotel bill and yet be short of squaring it. It was pity to leave the hotel so soon after I had just shone with a 5-yen tip. However, it being decidedly convenient to move and get settled early if I had to move at all, I asked Porcupine to get that room for me. He told me then to come over with him and see the house at any rate, and I did. The house was situated mid-way up a hill at the end of the town, and was a quiet. The boss was said to be a dealer in antique curios, called Ikagin, and his wife was about four years his senior. I learned the English word "witch" when I was in middle school, and this woman looked exactly like one. But as she was another man's wife, what did I care if she was a witch. Finally I decided to live in the house from the next day. On our way back Porcupine treated me to a cup of ice-water. When I first met him in the school, I thought him a disgustingly overbearing fellow, but judging by the way he had looked after me so far, he appeared not so bad after all. Only he seemed, like me, impatient by nature and of quick-temper. I heard afterward that he was liked most by all the students in the school. CHAPTER III. My teaching began at last. When I entered the class-room and stepped upon the platform for the first time, I felt somewhat strange. While lecturing, I wondered if a fellow like me could keep up the profession of public instructor. The students were noisy. Once in a while, they would holler "Teacher!" "Teacher,"--it was "going some." I had been calling others "teacher" every day so far, in the school of physics, but in calling others "teacher" and being called one, there is a wide gap of difference. It made me feel as if some one was tickling my soles. I am not a sneakish fellow, nor a coward; only--it's a pity--I lack audacity. If one calls me "teacher" aloud, it gives me a shock similar to that of hearing the noon-gun in Marunouchi when I was hungry. The first hour passed away in a dashing manner. And it passed away without encountering any knotty questions. As I returned to the teachers' room, Porcupine asked me how it was. I simply answered "well," and he seemed satisfied. When I left the teachers' room, chalk in hand, for the second hour class, I felt as if I was invading the enemy's territory. On entering the room, I found the students for this hour were all big fellows. I am a Tokyo kid, delicately built and small, and did not appear very impressive even in my elevated position. If it comes to a scraping, I can hold my own even with wrestlers, but I had no means of appearing awe-inspiring[E], merely by the aid of my tongue, to so many as forty such big chaps before me. Believing, however, that it would set a bad precedent to show these country fellows any weakness, I lectured rather loudly and in brusque tone. During the first part the students were taken aback and listened literally with their mouths open. "That's one on you!" I thought. Elated by my success, I kept on in this tone, when one who looked the strongest, sitting in the middle of the front row, stood up suddenly, and called "Teacher!" There it goes!--I thought, and asked him what it was. "A-ah sa-ay, you talk too quick. A-ah ca-an't you make it a leetle slow? A-ah?" "A-ah ca-an't you?" "A-ah?" was altogether dull. "If I talk too fast, I'll make it slow, but I'm a Tokyo fellow, and can't talk the way you do. If you don't understand it, better wait until you do." So I answered him. In this way the second hour was closed better than I had expected. Only, as I was about to leave the class, one of the students asked me, "A-ah say, won't you please do them for me?" and showed me some problems in geometry which I was sure I could not solve. This proved to be somewhat a damper on me. But, helpless, I told him I could not make them out, and telling him that I would show him how next time, hastily got out of the room. And all of them raised "Whee--ee!" Some of them were heard saying "He doesn't know much." Don't take a teacher for an encyclopaedia! If I could work out such hard questions as these easily, I would not be in such a backwoods town for forty yen a month. I returned to the teachers' room. "How was it this time?" asked Porcupine. I said "Umh." But not satisfied with "Umh" only, I added that all the students in this school were boneheads. He put up a whimsical face. The third and the fourth hour and the first hour in the afternoon were more or less the same. In all the classes I attended, I made some kind of blunder. I realised that the profession of teaching not quite so easy a calling as might have appeared. My teaching for the day was finished but I could not get away. I had to wait alone until three o'clock. I understood that at three o'clock the students of my classes would finish cleaning up the rooms and report to me, whereupon I would go over the rooms. Then I would run through the students' roll, and then be free to go home. Outrageous, indeed, to keep on chained to the school, staring at the empty space when he had nothing more to do, even though he was "bought" by a salary! Other fellow teachers, however, meekly submitted to the regulation, and believing it not well for me,--a new comer--to fuss about it, I stood it. On my way home, I appealed to Porcupine as to the absurdity of keeping me there till three o'clock regardless of my having nothing to do in the school. He said "Yes" and laughed. But he became serious and in an advisory manner told me not to make many complaints about the school. "Talk to me only, if you want to. There are some queer guys around." As we parted at the next corner, I did not have time to hear more from him. On reaching my room, the boss of the house came to me saying, "Let me serve you tea." I expected he was going to treat me to some good tea since he said "Let me serve you," but he simply made himself at home and drank my own tea. Judging by this, I thought he might be practising "Let me serve you" during my absence. The boss said that he was fond of antique drawings and curios and finally had decided to start in that business. "You look like one quite taken about art. Suppose you begin patronizing my business just for fun as er--connoisseur of art?" It was the least expected kind of solicitation. Two years ago, I went to the Imperial Hotel (Tokyo) on an errand, and I was taken for a locksmith. When I went to see the Daibutsu at Kamakura, haying wrapped up myself from head to toe with a blanket, a rikisha man addressed me as "Gov'ner." I have been mistaken on many occasions for as many things, but none so far has counted on me as a probable connoisseur of art. One should know better by my appearance. Any one who aspires to be a patron of art is usually pictured,--you may see in any drawing,--with either a hood on his head, or carrying a tanzaku[3] in his hand. The fellow who calls me a connoisseur of art and pretends to mean it, may be surely as crooked as a dog's hind legs. I told him I did not like such art-stuff, which is usually favored by retired people. He laughed, and remarking that that nobody liked it at first, but once in it, will find it so fascinating that he will hardly get over it, served tea for himself and drank it in a grotesque manner. I may say that I had asked him the night before to buy some tea for me, but I did not like such a bitter, heavy kind. One swallow seemed to act right on my stomach. I told him to buy a kind not so bitter as that, and he answered "All right, Sir," and drank another cup. The fellow seemed never to know of having enough of anything so long as it was another man's. After he left the room, I prepared for the morrow and went to bed. [Footnote 3: A tanzaku is a long, narrow strip of stiff paper on which a Japanese poem is written.] Everyday thereafter I attended at the school and worked as per regulations. Every day on my return, the boss came to my room with the same old "Let me serve you tea." In about a week I understood the school in a general way, and had my own idea as to the personality of the boss and his wife. I heard from one of my fellow teachers that the first week to one month after the receipt of the appointment worried them most as to whether they had been favorably received among the students. I never felt anything on that score. Blunders in the class room once in a while caused me chagrin, but in about half an hour everything would clear out of my head. I am a fellow who, by nature, can't be worrying long about[F] anything even if I try to. I was absolutely indifferent as how my blunders in the class room affected the students, or how much further they affected the principal or the head-teacher. As I mentioned before, I am not a fellow of much audacity to speak of, but I am quick to give up anything when I see its finish. I had resolved to go elsewhere at once if the school did not suit me. In consequence, neither Badger nor Red Shirt wielded any influence over me. And still less did I feel like coaxing or coddling the youngsters in the class room. So far it was O.K. with the school, but not so easy as that at my boarding house. I could have stood it if it had been only the boss coming to my room after my tea. But he would fetch many things to my room. First time he brought in seals.[4] He displayed about ten of them before me and persuaded me to buy them for three yen, which was very cheap, he said. Did he take me for a third rate painter making a round of the country? I told him I did not want them. Next time he brought in a panel picture of flowers and birds, drawn by one Kazan or somebody. He hung it against the wall of the alcove and asked me if it was not well done, and I echoed it looked well done. Then he started lecturing about Kazan, that there are two Kazans, one is Kazan something and the other is Kazan anything, and that this picture was the work of that Kazan something. After this nonsensical lecture, he insisted that he would make it fifteen yen for me to buy it. I declined the offer saying that I was shy of the money. [Footnote 4: Artists have several seals of stone with which to stamp on the picture they draw as a guarantee of their personal work or for identification. The shape and kind of seals are quite a hobby among artists, and sales or exchange are of common occurrence.] "You can pay any time." He was insistent. I settled him by telling him of my having no intention of purchasing it even if I had the necessary money. Again next time, he yanked in a big writing stone slab about the size of a ridge-tile. "This is a tankei,"[5] he said. As he "tankeied" two or three times, I asked for fun what was a tankei. Right away he commenced lecturing on the subject. "There are the upper, the middle and the lower stratum in tankei," he said. "Most of tankei slabs to-day are made from the upper stratum," he continued, "but this one is surely from the middle stratum. Look at this 'gan.'[6] 'Tis certainly rare to have three 'gans' like this. The ink-cake grates smoothly on it. Try it, sir,"--and he pushed it towards me. I asked him how much, and he answered that on account of its owner having brought it from China and wishing to sell if as soon as possible, he would make it very cheap, that I could have it for thirty yen. I was sure he was a fool. I seemed to be able to get through the school somehow, but I would soon give out if this "curio siege" kept on long. [Footnote 5: Tankei is the name of a place in China where a certain kind of stone suitable for writing purposes was produced.] [Footnote 6: "Gan" may be understood as a kind of natural mark on the stone peculiar to the stone from Tankei.] Shortly afterwards, I began to get sick of the school. One certain night, while I was strolling about a street named Omachi, I happened to notice a sign of noodles below of which was annotated "Tokyo" in the house next to the post office. I am very fond of noodles. While I was in Tokyo, if I passed by a noodle house and smelled the seasoning spices, I felt uncontrollable temptation to go inside at any cost. Up to this time I had forgotten the noodle on account of mathematics and antique curios, but since I had seen thus the sign of noodles, I could hardly pass it by unnoticed. So availing myself of this opportunity, I went in. It was not quite up to what I had judged by the sign. Since it claimed to follow the Tokyo style, they should have tidied up a little bit about the room. They did not either know Tokyo or have the means,--I did not know which, but the room was miserably dirty. The floor-mats had all seen better days and felt shaggy with sandy dust. The sootcovered walls defied the blackest black. The ceiling was not only smoked by the lamp black, but was so low as to force one involuntarily bend down his neck. Only the price-list, on which was glaringly written "Noodles" and which was pasted on the wall, was entirely new. I was certain that they bought an old house and opened the business just two or three days before. At the head of the price-list appeared "tempura" (noodles served with shrimp fried in batter). "Say, fetch me some tempura," I ordered in a loud voice. Then three fellows who had been making a chewing noise together in a corner, looked in my direction. As the room was dark I did not notice them at first. But when we looked at each other, I found them all to be boys in our school. They "how d'ye do'd" me and I acknowledged it. That night, having come across the noodle after so long a time, it tasted so fine that I ate four bowls. The next day as I entered the class room quite unconcernedly, I saw on the black board written in letters so large as to take up the whole space; "Professor Tempura." The boys all glanced at my face and made merry hee-haws at my cost. It was so absurd that I asked them if it was in any way funny for me to eat tempura noodle. Thereupon one of them said,--"But four bowls is too much." What did they care if I ate four bowls or five as long as I paid it with my own money,--and speedily finishing up my class, I returned to the teachers' room. After ten minutes' recess, I went to the next class, and there on the black board was newly written quite as large as before; "Four bowls of tempura noodles, but don't laugh." The first one did not arouse any ill-temper in me, but this time it made me feel irritating mad. A joke carried too far becomes mischievous. It is like the undue jealousy of some women who, like coal, look black and suggest flames. Nobody likes it. These country simpletons, unable to differentiate upon so delicate a boundary, would seem to be bent on pushing everything to the limit. As they lived in such a narrow town where one has no more to see if he goes on strolling about for one hour, and as they were capable of doing nothing better, they were trumpeting aloud this tempura incident in quite as serious a manner as the Russo-Japanese war. What a bunch of miserable pups! It is because they are raised in this fashion from their boyhood that there are many punies who, like the dwarf maple tree in the flower pot, mature gnarled and twisted. I have no objection to laugh myself with others over innocent jokes. But how's this? Boys as they are, they showed a "poisonous temper." Silently erasing off "tempura" from the board, I questioned them if they thought such mischief interesting, that this was a cowardly joke and if they knew the meaning of "cowardice." Some of them answered that to get angry on being laughed at over one's own doing, was cowardice. What made them so disgusting as this? I pitied myself for coming from far off Tokyo to teach such a lot. "Keep your mouth shut, and study hard," I snapped, and started the class. In the next class again there was written: "When one eats tempura noodles it makes him drawl nonsense." There seemed no end to it. I was thoroughly aroused with anger, and declaring that I would not teach such sassies, went home straight. The boys were glad of having an unexpected holiday, so I heard. When things had come to this pass, the antique curious seemed far more preferable to the school. My return home and sleep over night greatly rounded off my rugged temper over the tempura affair. I went to the school, and they were there also. I could not tell what was what. The three days thereafter were pacific, and on the night of the fourth day, I went to a suburb called Sumida and ate "dango" (small balls made of glutinous rice, dressed with sugar-paste). Sumida is a town where there are restaurants, hot-springs bath houses and a park, and in addition, the "tenderloin." The dango shop where I went was near the entrance to the tenderloin, and as the dango served there was widely known for its nice taste, I dropped in on my way back from my bath. As I did not meet any students this time, I thought nobody knew of it, but when I entered the first hour class next day, I found written on the black board; "Two dishes of dango--7 sen." It is true that I ate two dishes and paid seven sen. Troublesome kids! I declare. I expected with certainty that there would be something at the second hour, and there it was; "The dango in the tenderloin taste fine." Stupid wretches! No sooner I thought, the dango incident closed than the red towel became the topic for widespread gossip. Inquiry as to the story revealed it to be something unusually absurd. Since, my arrival here, I had made it a part of my routine to take in the hot springs bath every day. While there was nothing in this town which compared favorably with Tokyo, the hot springs were worthy of praise. So long as I was in the town, I decided that I would have a dip every day, and went there walking, partly for physical exercise, before my supper. And whenever I went there I used to carry a large-size European towel dangling from my hand. Added to somewhat reddish color the towel had acquired by its having been soaked in the hot-springs, the red color on its border, which was not fast enough, streaked about so that the towel now looked as if it were dyed red. This towel hung down from my hand on both ways whether afoot or riding in the train. For this reason, the students nicknamed me Red Towel. Honest, it is exasperating to live in a little town. There is some more. The bath house I patronized was a newly built three-story house, and for the patrons of the first class the house provided a bath-robe, in addition to an attendant, and the cost was only eight sen. On top of that, a maid would serve tea in a regular polite fashion. I always paid the first class. Then those gossipy spotters started saying that for one who made only forty yen a month to take a first class bath every day was extravagant. Why the devil should they care? It was none of their business. There is still some more. The bath-tub,--or the tank in this case,--was built of granite, and measured about thirty square feet. Usually there were thirteen or fourteen people in the tank, but sometimes there was none. As the water came up clear to the breast, I enjoyed, for athletic purposes, swimming in the tank. I delighted in swimming in this 30-square feet tank, taking chances of the total absence of other people. Once, going downstairs from the third story with a light heart, and peeping through the entrance of the tank to see if I should be able to swim, I noticed a sign put up in which was boldly written: "No swimming allowed in the tank." As there may not have been many who swam in the tank, this notice was probably put up particularly for my sake. After that I gave up swimming. But although I gave up swimming, I was surprised, when I went to the school, to see on the board, as usual, written: "No swimming allowed in the tank." It seemed as if all the students united in tracking me everywhere. They made me sick. I was not a fellow to stop doing whatever I had started upon no matter what students might say, but I became thoroughly disgusted when I meditated on why I had come to such a narrow, suffocating place. And, then, when I returned home, the "antique curio siege" was still going on. CHAPTER IV For us teachers there was a duty of night watch in the school, and we had to do it in turn. But Badger and Red Shirt were not in it. On asking why these two were exempt from this duty, I was told that they were accorded by the government treatment similar to officials of "Sonin" rank. Oh, fudge! They were paid more, worked less, and were then excused from this night watch. It was not fair. They made regulations to suit their convenience and seemed to regard all this as a matter of course. How could they be so brazen faced as this! I was greatly dissatisfied relative to this question, but according to the opinion of Porcupine, protests by a single person, with what insistency they may be made, will not be heard. They ought to be heard whether they are made by one person or by two if they are just. Porcupine remonstrated with me by quoting "Might is right" in English. I did not catch his point, so I asked him again, and he told me that it meant the right of the stronger. If it was the right of the stronger I had known it for long, and did not require Porcupine explain that to me at this time. The right of the stronger was a question different from that of the night watch. Who would agree that Badger and Red Shirt were the stronger? But argument or no argument, the turn of this night watch at last fell upon me. Being quite fastidious, I never enjoyed sound sleep unless I slept comfortably in my own bedding. From my childhood, I never stayed out overnight. When I did not find sleeping under the roof of my friends inviting, night watch in the school, you may be sure, was still worse. However repulsive, if this was a part of the forty yen a month, there was no alternative. I had to do it. To remain alone in the school after the faculty and students had gone home, was something particularly awkward. The room for the night watch was in the rear of the school building at the west end of the dormitory. I stepped inside to see how it was, and finding it squarely facing the setting sun, I thought I would melt. In spite of autumn having already set in, the hot spell still lingered, quite in keeping with the dilly-dally atmosphere of the country. I ordered the same kind of meal as served for the students, and finished my supper. The meal was unspeakably poor. It was a wonder they could subsist on such miserable stuff and keep on "roughing it" in that lively fashion. Not only that, they were always hungry for supper, finishing it at 4.30 in the afternoon. They must be heroes in a sense. I had thus my supper, but the sun being still high, could not go to bed yet. I felt like going to the hot-springs. I did not know the wrong or right of night watch going out, but it was oppressively trying to stand a life akin to heavy imprisonment. When I called at the school the first time and inquired about night watch, I was told by the janitor that he had just gone out and I thought it strange. But now by taking the turn of night watch myself, I could fathom the situation; it was right for any night watch to go out. I told the janitor that I was going out for a minute. He asked me "on business?" and I answered "No," but to take a bath at the hot springs, and went out straight. It was too bad that I had left my red towel at home, but I would borrow one over there for to-day. I took plenty of time in dipping in the bath and as it became dark at last, I came to the Furumachi Station on a train. It was only about four blocks to the school; I could cover it in no time. When I started walking schoolwards, Badger was seen coming from the opposite direction. Badger, I presumed, was going to the hot springs by this train. He came with brisk steps, and as we passed by, I nodded my courtesy. Then Badger, with a studiously owlish countenance, asked: "Am I wrong to understand that you are night watch?" Chuck that "Am-I-wrong-to-understand"! Two hours ago, did he not say to me "You're on first night watch to-night. Now, take care of yourself?" What makes one use such a roundabout, twisted way of saying anything when he becomes a principal? I was far from smiling. "Yes, Sir," I said, "I'm night watch to-night, and as I am night watch I will return to the school and stay there overnight, sure." With this parting shot, I left him where we met. Coming then to the cross-streets of Katamachi, I met Porcupine. This is a narrow place, I tell you. Whenever one ventures out, he is sure to come across some familiar face. "Say, aren't you night watch?" he hallooed, and I said "Yes, I am." "Tis wrong for night watch to leave his post at his pleasure," he added, and to this I blurted out with a bold front; "Nothing wrong at all. It is wrong not to go out." "Say, old man, your slap-dash is going to the limit. Wouldn't look well for the principal or the head teacher to see you out like this." The submissive tone of his remark was contrary to Porcupine as I had known him so far, so I cut him short by saying: "I have met the principal just now. Why, he approved my taking a stroll about the town. Said it would be hard on night watch unless he took a walk when it is hot." Then I made a bee-line for the school. Soon it was night. I called the janitor to my room and had a chat for about two hours. I grew tired of this, and thought I would get into bed anyway, even if I could not sleep. I put on my night shirt, lifted the mosquito-net, rolled off the red blanket and fell down flat on my back with a bang. The making of this bumping noise when I go to bed is my habit from my boyhood. "It is a bad habit," once declared a student of a law school who lived on the ground floor, and I on the second, when I was in the boarding house at Ogawa-machi, Kanda-ku, and who brought complaints to my room in person. Students of law schools, weaklings as they are, have double the ability of ordinary persons when it comes to talking. As this student of law dwelt long on absurd accusations, I downed him by answering that the noise made when I went to bed was not the fault of my hip, but that of the house which was not built on a solid base, and that if he had any fuss to make, make it to the house, not to me. This room for night watch was not on the second floor, so nobody cared how much I banged. I do not feel well-rested unless I go to bed with the loudest bang I can make. "This is bully!" and I straightened out my feet, when something jumped and clung to them. They felt coarse, and seemed not to be fleas. I was a bit surprised, and shook my feet inside the blanket two or three times. Instantly the blamed thing increased,--five or six of them on my legs, two or three on the thighs, one crushed beneath my hip and another clear up to my belly. The shock became greater. Up I jumped, took off the blanket, and about fifty to sixty grasshoppers flew out. I was more or less uneasy until I found out what they were, but now I saw they were grasshoppers, they set me on the war path. "You insignificant grasshoppers, startling a man! See what's coming to you!" With this I slapped them with my pillow twice or thrice, but the objects being so small, the effect was out of proportion to the force with which the blows were administered. I adopted a different plan. In the manner of beating floor-mats with rolled matting at house-cleaning, I sat up in bed and began beating them with the pillow. Many of them flew up by the force of the pillow; some desperately clung on or shot against my nose or head. I could not very well hit those on my head with the pillow; I grabbed such, and dashed them on the floor. What was more provoking was that no matter how hard I dashed them, they landed on the mosquito-net where they made a fluffy jerk and remained, far from being dead. At last, in about half an hour the slaughter of the grasshoppers was ended. I fetched a broom and swept them out. The janitor came along and asked what was the matter. "Damn the matter! Where in thunder are the fools who keep grasshoppers in bed! You pumpkinhead!" The janitor answered by explaining that he did not know anything about it. "You can't get away with Did-not-know," and I followed this thundering by throwing away the broom. The awe-struck janitor shouldered the broom and faded away. At once I summoned three of the students to my room as the "representatives," and six of them reported. Six or ten made no difference; I rolled up the sleeves of my night-shirt and fired away. "What do you mean by putting grasshoppers in my bed!" "Grasshoppers? What are they?" said one in front, in a tone disgustingly quiet. In this school, not only the principal, but the students as well, were addicted to using twisted-round expressions. "Don't know grasshoppers! You shall see!" To my chagrin, there was none; I had swept them all out. I called the janitor again and told him to fetch those grasshoppers he had taken away. The janitor said he had thrown them into the garbage box, but that he would pick them out again. "Yes, hurry up," I said, and he sped away. After a while he brought back about ten grasshoppers on a white paper, remarking: "I'm sorry, Sir. It's dark outside and I can't find out more. I'll find some tomorrow." All fools here, down to the janitor. I showed one grasshopper to the students. "This is a grasshopper. What's the matter for as big idiots as you not to know a grasshopper." Then the one with a round face sitting on the left saucily shot back: "A-ah say, that's a locust, a-ah----." "Shut up. They're the same thing. In the first place, what do you mean by answering your teacher 'A-ah say'? Ah-Say or Ah-Sing is a Chink's name!" For this counter-shot, he answered: "A-ah say and Ah-Sing is different,--A-ah say." They never got rid of "A-ah say." "Grasshoppers or locusts, why did you put them into my bed? When I asked you to?" "Nobody put them in." "If not, how could they get into the bed?" "Locusts are fond of warm places and probably they got in there respectfully by themselves." "You fools! Grasshoppers getting into bed respectfully! I should smile at them getting in there respectfully! Now, what's the reason for doing this mischief? Speak out." "But there is no way to explain it because we didn't do it." Shrimps! If they were afraid of making a clean breast of their own deed, they should not have done it at all. They looked defiant, and appeared to insist on their innocence as long as no evidence was brought up. I myself did some mischief while in the middle school, but when the culprit was sought after, I was never so cowardly, not even once, to back out. What one has done, has been done; what he has not, has not been,--that's the black and white of it. I, for one have been game and square, no matter how much mischief I might have done. If I wished to dodge the punishment, I would not start it. Mischief and punishment are bound to go together. We can enjoy mischief-making with some show of spirit because it is accompanied by certain consequences. Where does one expect to see the dastardly spirit which hungers for mischief-making without punishment, in vogue? The fellows who like to borrow money but not pay it back, are surely such as these students here after they are graduated. What did these fellows come to this middle school for, anyway? They enter a school, tattle round lies, play silly jokes behind some one by sneaking and cheating and get wrongly swell-headed when they finish the school thinking they have received an education. A common lot of jackasses they are. My hatred of talking with these scamps became intense, so I dismissed them by saying: "If you fellows have nothing to say, let it go at that. You deserve pity for not knowing the decent from the vulgar after coming to a middle school." I am not very decent in my own language or manner, but am sure that my moral standard is far more decent than that of these gangs. Those six boys filed out leisurely. Outwardly they appeared more dignified than I their teacher, it was the more repulsive for their calm behavior. I have no temerity equal to theirs. Then I went to bed again, and found the inside of the net full of merry crowds of mosquitoes. I could not bother myself to burn one by one with a candle flame. So I took the net off the hooks, folded it the lengthwise, and shook it crossways, up and down the room. One of the rings of the net, flying round, accidentally hit the back of my hand, the effect of which I did not soon forget. When I went to bed for the third time, I cooled off a little, but could not sleep easily. My watch showed it was half past ten. Well, as I thought it over, I realized myself as having come to a dirty pit. If all teachers of middle schools everywhere have to handle fellows like these in this school, those teachers have my sympathy. It is wonderful that teachers never run short. I believe there are many boneheads of extraordinary patience; but me for something else. In this respect, Kiyo is worthy of admiration. She is an old woman, with neither education nor social position, but as a human, she does more to command our respect. Until now, I have been a trouble to her without appreciating her goodness, but having come alone to such a far-off country, I now appreciated, for the first time, her kindness. If she is fond of sasa-ame of Echigo province, and if I go to Echigo for the purpose of buying that sweetmeat to let her eat it, she is fully worth that trouble. Kiyo has been praising me as unselfish and straight, but she is a person of sterling qualities far more than I whom she praises. I began to feel like meeting her. While I was thus meditating about Kiyo, all of a sudden, on the floor above my head, about thirty to forty people, if I guess by the number, started stamping the floor with bang, bang, bang that well threatened to bang down the floor. This was followed by proportionately loud whoops. The noise surprised me, and I popped up. The moment I got up I became aware that the students were starting a rough house to get even with me. What wrong one has committed, he has to confess, or his offence is never atoned for. They are just to ask for themselves what crimes they have done. It should be proper that they repent their folly after going to bed and to come and beg me pardon the next morning. Even if they could not go so far as to apologize they should have kept quiet. Then what does this racket mean? Where we keeping hogs in our dormitory? "This crazy thing got to stop. See what you get!" I ran out of the room in my night shirt, and flew upstairs in three and half steps. Then, strange to say, thunderous rumbling, of which I was sure of hearing in the act, was hushed. Not only a whisper but even footsteps were not heard. This was funny. The lamp was already blown out and although I could not see what was what in the dark, nevertheless could tell by instinct whether there was somebody around or not. In the long corridor running from the east to the west, there was not hiding even a mouse. From other end of the corridor the moonlight flooded in and about there it was particularly light. The scene was somewhat uncanny. I have had the habit from my boyhood of frequently dreaming and of flying out of bed and of muttering things which nobody understood, affording everybody a hearty laugh. One night, when I was sixteen or seventeen, I dreamed that I picked up a diamond, and getting up, demanded of my brother who was sleeping close to me what he had done with that diamond. The demand was made with such force that for about three days all in the house chaffed me about the fatal loss of precious stone, much to my humiliation. Maybe this noise which I heard was but a dream, although I was sure it was real. I was wondering thus in the middle of the corridor, when at the further end where it was moonlit, a roar was raised, coming from about thirty or forty throats, "One, two, three,--Whee-ee!" The roar had hardly subsided, when, as before, the stamping of the floor commenced with furious rhythm. Ah, it was not a dream, but a real thing! "Quit making the noise! 'Tis midnight!" I shouted to beat the band, and started in their direction. My passage was dark; the moonlight yonder was only my guide. About twelve feet past, I stumbled squarely against some hard object; ere the "Ouch!" has passed clear up to my head, I was thrown down. I called all kinds of gods, but could not run. My mind urged me on to hurry up, but my leg would not obey the command. Growing impatient, I hobbled on one foot, and found both voice and stamping already ceased and perfectly quiet. Men can be cowards but I never expected them capable of becoming such dastardly cowards as this. They challenged hogs. Now the situation having developed to this pretty mess, I would not give it up until I had dragged them out from hiding and forced them to apologize. With this determination, I tried to open one of the doors and examine inside, but it would not open. It was locked or held fast with a pile of tables or something; to my persistent efforts the door stood unyielding. Then I tried one across the corridor on the northside, but it was also locked. While this irritating attempt at door-opening was going on, again on the east end of the corridor the whooping roar and rhythmic stamping of feet were heard. The fools at both ends were bent on making a goose of me. I realized this, but then I was at a loss what to do. I frankly confess that I have not quite as much tact as dashing spirit. In such a case I am wholly at the mercy of swaying circumstances without my own way of getting through it. Nevertheless, I do not expect to play the part of underdog. If I dropped the affair then and there, it would reflect upon my dignity. It would be mortifying to have them think that they had one on the Tokyo-kid and that Tokyo-kid was wanting in tenacity. To have it on record that I had been guyed by these insignificant spawn when on night watch, and had to give in to their impudence because I could not handle them,--this would be an indelible disgrace on my life. Mark ye,--I am descendant of a samurai of the "hatamato" class. The blood of the "hatamoto" samurai could be traced to Mitsunaka Tada, who in turn could claim still a nobler ancestor. I am different from, and nobler than, these manure-smelling louts. The only pity is that I am rather short of tact; that I do not know what to do in such a case. That is the trouble. But I would not throw up the sponge; not on your life! I only do not know how because I am honest. Just think,--if the honest does not win, what else is there in this world that will win? If I cannot beat them to-night, I will tomorrow; if not tomorrow, then the day after tomorrow. If not the day after tomorrow, I will sit down right here, get my meals from my home until I beat them. Thus resolved, I squatted in the middle of the corridor and waited for the dawn. Myriads of mosquitoes swarmed about me, but I did not mind them. I felt my leg where I hit it a while ago; it seemed bespattered with something greasy. I thought it was bleeding. Let it bleed all it cares! Meanwhile, exhausted by these unwonted affairs, I fell asleep. When I awoke, up I jumped with a curse. The door on my right was half opened, and two students were standing in front of me. The moment I recovered my senses from the drowsy lull, I grabbed a leg of one of them nearest to me, and yanked it with all my might. He fell down prone. Look at what you're getting now! I flew at the other fellow, who was much confused; gave him vigorous shaking twice or thrice, and he only kept open his bewildering eyes. "Come up to my room." Evidently they were mollycoddles, for they obeyed my command without a murmur. The day had become already clear. I began questioning those two in my room, but,--you cannot pound out the leopard's spots no matter how you may try,--they seemed determined to push it through by an insistent declaration of "not guilty," that they would not confess. While this questioning was going on, the students upstairs came down, one by one, and began congregating in my room. I noticed all their eyes were swollen from want of sleep. "Blooming nice faces you got for not sleeping only one night. And you call yourselves men! Go, wash your face and come back to hear what I've got to tell you." I hurled this shot at them, but none of them went to wash his face. For about one hour, I had been talking and back-talking with about fifty students when suddenly Badger put in his appearance. I heard afterward that the janitor ran to Badger for the purpose of reporting to him that there was a trouble in the school. What a weak-knee of the janitor to fetch the principal for so trifling an affair as this! No wonder he cannot see better times than a janitor. The principal listened to my explanation, and also to brief remarks from the students. "Attend school as usual till further notice. Hurry up with washing your face and breakfast; there isn't much time left." So the principal let go all the students. Decidedly slow way of handling, this. If I were the principal, I would expel them right away. It is because the school accords them such luke-warm treatment that they get "fresh" and start "guying" the night watch. He said to me that it must have been trying on my nerves, and that I might be tired, and also that I need not teach that day. To this I replied: "No, Sir, no worrying at all. Such things may happen every night, but it would not disturb me in the least as long as I breathe. I will do the teaching. If I were not able to teach on account of lack of sleep for only one single night, I would make a rebate of my salary to the school." I do not know how this impressed him, but he gazed at me for a while, and called my attention to the fact that my face was rather swollen. Indeed, I felt it heavy. Besides, it itched all over. I was sure the mosquitoes must have stung me there to their hearts' content. I further added: "My face may be swollen, but I can talk all right; so I will teach;" thus scratching my face with some warmth. The principal smiled and remarked, "Well, you have the strength." To tell the truth, he did not intend remark to be a compliment, but, I think, a sneer. CHAPTER V. "Won't you go fishing?" asked Red Shirt He talks in a strangely womanish voice. One would not be able to tell whether he was a man or a woman. As a man he should talk like one. Is he not a college graduate? I can talk man-like enough, and am a graduate from a school of physics at that. It is a shame for a B.A. to have such a squeak. I answered with the smallest enthusiasm, whereupon he further asked me an impolite question if I ever did fishing. I told him not much, that I once caught three gibels when I was a boy, at a fishing game pond at Koume, and that I also caught a carp about eight inches long, at a similar game at the festival of Bishamon at Kagurazaka;--the carp, just as I was coaxing it out of the water, splashed back into it, and when I think of the incident I feel mortified at the loss even now. Red Shirt stuck out his chin and laughed "ho, ho." Why could he not laugh just like an ordinary person? "Then you are not well acquainted with the spirit of the game," he cried. "I'll show you if you like." He seemed highly elated. Not for me! I take it this way that generally those who are fond of fishing or shooting have cruel hearts. Otherwise, there is no reason why they could derive pleasure in murdering innocent creatures. Surely, fish and birds would prefer living to getting killed. Except those who make fishing or shooting their calling, it is nonsense for those who are well off to say that they cannot sleep well unless they seek the lives of fish or birds. This was the way I looked at the question, but as he was a B. A. and would have a better command of language when it came to talking, I kept mum, knowing he would beat me in argument. Red Shirt mistook my silence for my surrender, and began to induce me to join him right away, saying he would show me some fish and I should come with him if I was not busy, because he and Mr. Yoshikawa were lonesome when alone. Mr. Yoshikawa is the teacher of drawing whom I had nicknamed Clown. I don't know what's in the mind of this Clown, but he was a constant visitor at the house of Red Shirt, and wherever he went, Clown was sure to be trailing after him. They appeared more like master and servant than two fellow teachers. As Clown used to follow Red Shirt like a shadow, it would be natural to see them go off together now, but when those two alone would have been well off, why should they invite me,--this brusque, unaesthetic fellow,--was hard to understand. Probably, vain of his fishing ability, he desired to show his skill, but he aimed at the wrong mark, if that was his intention, as nothing of the kind would touch me. I would not be chagrined if he fishes out two or three tunnies. I am a man myself and poor though I may be in the art, I would hook something if I dropped a line. If I declined his invitation, Red Shirt would suspect that I refused not because of my lack of interest in the game but because of my want of skill of fishing. I weighed the matter thus, and accepted his invitation. After the school, I returned home and got ready, and having joined Red Shirt and Clown at the station, we three started to the shore. There was only one boatman to row; the boat was long and narrow, a kind we do not have in Tokyo. I looked for fishing rods but could find none. "How can we fish without rods? How are we going to manage it?" I asked Clown and he told me with the air of a professional fisherman that no rods were needed in the deep-sea fishing, but only lines. I had better not asked him if I was to be talked down in this way. The boatman was rowing very slowly, but his skill was something wonderful. We had already come far out to sea, and on turning back, saw the shore minimized, fading in far distance. The five-storied pagoda of Tosho Temple appeared above the surrounding woods like a needle-point. Yonder stood Aoshima (Blue Island). Nobody was living on this island which a closer view showed to be covered with stones and pine trees. No wonder no one could live there. Red Shirt was intently surveying about and praising the general view as fine. Clown also termed it "an absolutely fine view." I don't know whether it is so fine as to be absolute, but there was no doubt as to the exhilarating air. I realized it as the best tonic to be thus blown by the fresh sea breeze upon a wide expanse of water. I felt hungry. "Look at that pine; its trunk is straight and spreads its top branches like an umbrella. Isn't it a Turnersque picture?" said Red Shirt. "Yes, just like Turner's," responded Clown, "Isn't the way it curves just elegant? Exactly the touch of Turner," he added with some show of pride. I didn't know what Turner was, but as I could get along without knowing it, I kept silent. The boat turned to the left with the island on the right. The sea was so perfectly calm as to tempt one to think he was not on the deep sea. The pleasant occasion was a credit to Red Shirt. As I wished, if possible, to land on the island, I asked the boatman if our boat could not be made to it. Upon this Red Shirt objected, saying that we could do so but it was not advisable to go too close the shore for fishing. I kept still for a while. Then Clown made the unlooked-for proposal that the island be named Turner Island. "That's good; We shall call it so hereafter," seconded Red Shirt. If I was included in that "We," it was something I least cared for. Aoshima was good enough for me. "By the way, how would it look," said Clown, "if we place Madonna by Raphael upon that rock? It would make a fine picture." "Let's quit talking about Madonna, ho, ho, ho," and Red Shirt emitted a spooky laugh. "That's all right. Nobody's around," remarked Clown as he glanced at me, and turning his face to other direction significantly, smiled devilishly. I felt sickened. As it was none of my business whether it was a Madonna or a kodanna (young master), they let pose there any old way, but it was vulgar to feign assurance that one's subject is in no danger of being understood so long as others did not know the subject. Clown claims himself as a Yedo kid. I thought that the person called Madonna was no other than a favorite geisha of Red Shirt. I should smile at the idea of his gazing at his tootsy-wootsy standing beneath a pine tree. It would be better if Clown would make an oil painting of the scene and exhibit it for the public. "This will be about the best place." So saying the boatman stopped rowing the boat and dropped an anchor. "How deep is it?" asked Red Shirt, and was told about six fathoms. "Hard to fish sea-breams in six fathoms," said Red Shirt as he dropped a line into the water. The old sport appeared to expect to fetch some bream. Bravo! "It wouldn't be hard for you. Besides it is calm," Clown fawningly remarked, and he too dropped a line. The line had only a tiny bit of lead that looked like a weight. It had no float. To fish without a float seemed as nearly reasonable as to measure the heat without a thermometer, which was something impossible for me. So I looked on. They then told me to start, and asked me if I had any line. I told them I had more than I could use, but that I had no float. "To say that one is unable to fish without a float shows that he is a novice," piped up Clown. "See? When the line touches the bottom, you just manage it with your finger on the edge. If a fish bites, you could tell in a minute. There it goes," and Red Shirt hastily started taking out the line. I wondered what he had got, but I saw no fish, only the bait was gone. Ha, good for you, Gov'nur! "Wasn't it too bad! I'm sure it was a big one. If you miss that way, with your ability, we would have to keep a sharper watch to-day. But, say, even if we miss the fish, it's far better than staring at a float, isn't it? Just like saying he can't ride a bike without a brake." Clown has been getting rather gay, and I was almost tempted to swat him. I'm just as good as they are. The sea isn't leased by Red Shirt, and there might be one obliging bonito which might get caught by my line. I dropped my line then, and toyed it with my finger carelessly. After a while something shook my line with successive jerks. I thought it must be a fish. Unless it was something living, it would not give that tremulous shaking. Good! I have it, and I commenced drawing in the line, while Clown jibed me "What? Caught one already? Very remarkable, indeed!" I had drawn in nearly all the line, leaving only about five feet in the water. I peeped over and saw a fish that looked like a gold fish with stripes was coming up swimming to right and left. It was interesting. On taking it out of the water, it wriggled and jumped, and covered my face with water. After some effort, I had it and tried to detach the hook, but it would not come out easily. My hands became greasy and the sense was anything but pleasing. I was irritated; I swung the line and banged the fish against the bottom of the boat. It speedily died. Red Shirt and Clown watched me with surprise. I washed my hands in the water but they still smelled "fishy." No more for me! I don't care what fish I might get, I don't want to grab a fish. And I presume the fish doesn't want to be grabbed either. I hastily rolled up the line. "Splendid for the first honor, but that's goruki," Clown again made a "fresh" remark. "Goruki sounds like the name of a Russian literator," said Red Shirt. "Yes, just like a Russian literator," Clown at once seconded Red Shirt. Gorky for a Russian literator, Maruki a photographer of Shibaku, and komeno-naruki (rice) a life-giver, eh? This Red Shirt has a bad hobby of marshalling before anybody the name of foreigners. Everybody has his specialty. How could a teacher of mathematics like me tell whether it is a Gorky or shariki (rikishaman). Red Shirt should have been a little more considerate. And if he wants to mention such names at all, let him mention "Autobiography of Ben Franklin," or "Pushing to the Front," or something we all know. Red Shirt has been seen once in a while bringing a magazine with a red cover entitled Imperial Literature to the school and poring over it with reverence. I heard it from Porcupine that Red Shirt gets his supply of all foreign names from that magazine. Well, I should say! For some time, Red Shirt and Clown fished assiduously and within about an hour they caught about fifteen fish. The funny part of it was that all they caught were goruki; of sea-bream there was not a sign. "This is a day of bumper crop of Russian literature," Red Shirt said, and Clown answered: "When one as skilled as you gets nothing but goruki, it's natural for me to get nothing else." The boatman told me that this small-sized fish goruki has too many tiny bones and tastes too poor to be fit for eating, but they could be used for fertilising. So Red Shirt and Clown were fishing fertilisers with vim and vigor. As for me, one goruki was enough and I laid down myself on the bottom, and looked up at the sky. This was far more dandy than fishing. Then the two began whispering. I could not hear well, nor did I care to. I was looking up at the sky and thinking about Kiyo. If I had enough of money, I thought, and came with Kiyo to such a picturesque place, how joyous it would be. No matter how picturesque the scene might be, it would be flat in the company of Clown or of his kind. Kiyo is a poor wrinkled woman, but I am not ashamed to take her to any old place. Clown or his likes, even in a Victoria or a yacht, or in a sky-high position, would not be worthy to come within her shadow. If I were the head teacher, and Red Shirt I, Clown would be sure to fawn on me and jeer at Red Shirt. They say Yedo kids are flippant. Indeed, if a fellow like Clown was to travel the country and repeatedly declare "I am a Yedo kid," no wonder the country folk would decide that the flippant are Yedo kids and Yedo kids are flippant. While I was meditating like this, I heard suppressed laughter. Between their laughs they talked something, but I could not make out what they were talking about. "Eh? I don't know......" "...... That's true ...... he doesn't know ...... isn't it pity, though ......." "Can that be......." "With grasshoppers ...... that's a fact." I did not listen to what they were talking, but when I heard Clown say "grasshoppers," I cocked my ear instinctively. Clown emphasized, for what reason I do not know the word "grasshopers" so that it would be sure to reach my ear plainly, and he blurred the rest on purpose. I did not move, and kept on listening. "That same old Hotta," "that may be the case...." "Tempura ...... ha, ha, ha ......" "...... incited ......" "...... dango also? ......" The words were thus choppy, but judging by their saying "grasshoppers," "tempura" or "dango," I was sure they were secretly talking something about me. If they wanted to talk, they should do it louder. If they wanted to discuss something secret, why in thunder did they invite me? What damnable blokes! Grasshoppers or glass-stoppers, I was not in the wrong; I have kept quiet to save the face of Badger because the principle asked me to leave the matter to him. Clown has been making unnecessary criticisms; out with your old paint-brushes there! Whatever concerns me, I will settle it myself sooner or later, and they had just to keep off my toes. But remarks such as "the same old Hotta" or "...... incited ......" worried me a bit. I could not make out whether they meant that Hotta incited me to extend the circle of the trouble, or that he incited the students to get at me. As I gazed at the blue sky, the sunlight gradually waned and chilly winds commenced stirring. The clouds that resembled the streaky smokes of joss sticks were slowly extending over a clear sky, and by degrees they were absorbed, melted and changed to a faint fog. "Well, let's be going," said Red Shirt suddenly. "Yes, this is the time we were going. See your Madonna to-night?" responded Clown. "Cut out nonsense ...... might mean a serious trouble," said Red Shirt who was reclining against the edge of the boat, now raising himself. "O, that's all right if he hears.......," and when Clown, so saying, turned himself my way, I glared squarely in his face. Clown turned back as if to keep away from a dazzling light, and with "Ha, this is going some," shrugged his shoulders and scratched his head. The boat was now being rowed shore-ward over the calm sea. "You don't seem much fond of fishing," asked Red Shirt. "No, I'd rather prefer lying and looking at the sky," I answered, and threw the stub of cigarette I had been smoking into the water; it sizzled and floated on the waves parted by the oar. "The students are all glad because you have come. So we want you do your best." Red Shirt this time started something quite alien to fishing. "I don't think they are," I said. "Yes; I don't mean it as flattery. They are, sure. Isn't it so, Mr. Yoshikawa?" "I should say they are. They're crazy over it," said Clown with an unctuous smile. Strange that whatever Clown says, it makes me itching mad. "But, if you don't look out, there is danger," warned Red Shirt. "I am fully prepared for all dangers," I replied. In fact, I had made up my mind either to get fired or to make all the students in the dormitory apologize to me. "If you talk that way, that cuts everything out. Really, as a head teacher, I've been considering what is good for you, and wouldn't like you to mistake it." "The head teacher is really your friend. And I'm doing what I can for you, though mighty little, because you and I are Yedo kids, and I would like to have you stay with us as long as possible and we can help each other." So said Clown and it sounded almost human. I would sooner hang myself than to get helped by Clown. "And the students are all glad because you had come, but there are many circumstances," continued Red Shirt. "You may feel angry sometimes but be patient for the present, and I will never do anything to hurt your interests." "You say 'many circumstances'; what are they?" "They're rather complicated. Well, they'll be clear to you by and by. You'll understand them naturally without my talking them over. What do you say, Mr. Yoshikawa?" "Yes, they're pretty complicated; hard to get them cleared up in a jiffy. But they'll become clear by-the-bye. Will be understood naturally without my explaining them," Clown echoed Red Shirt. "If they're such a bother, I don't mind not hearing them. I only asked you because you sprang the subject." "That's right. I may seem irresponsible in not concluding the thing I had started. Then this much I'll tell you. I mean no offense, but you are fresh from school, and teaching is a new experience. And a school is a place where somewhat complicated private circumstances are common and one cannot do everything straight and simple". "If can't get it through straight and simple, how does it go?" "Well, there you are so straight as that. As I was saying, you're short of experience........" "I should be. As I wrote it down in my record-sheet, I'm 23 years and four months." "That's it. So you'd be done by some one in unexpected quarter." "I'm not afraid who might do me as long as I'm honest." "Certainly not. No need be afraid, but I do say you look sharp; your predecessor was done." I noticed Clown had become quiet, and turning round, saw him at the stern talking with the boatman. Without Clown, I found our conversation running smoothly. "By whom was my predecessor done?" "If I point out the name, it would reflect on the honor of that person, so I can't mention it. Besides there is no evidence to prove it and I may be in a bad fix if I say it. At any rate, since you're here, my efforts will prove nothing if you fail. Keep a sharp look-out, please." "You say look-out, but I can't be more watchful than I'm now. If I don't do anything wrong, after all, that's all right isn't it?" Red Shirt laughed. I did not remember having said anything provocative of laughter. Up to this very minute, I have been firm in my conviction that I'm right. When I come to consider the situation, it appears that a majority of people are encouraging others to become bad. They seem to believe that one must do wrong in order to succeed. If they happen to see some one honest and pure, they sneer at him as "Master Darling" or "kiddy." What's the use then of the instructors of ethics at grammar schools or middle schools teaching children not to tell a lie or to be honest. Better rather make a bold departure and teach at schools the gentle art of lying or the trick of distrusting others, or show pupils how to do others. That would be beneficial for the person thus taught and for the public as well. When Red Shirt laughed, he laughed at my simplicity. My word! what chances have the simple-hearted or the pure in a society where they are made objects of contempt! Kiyo would never laugh at such a time; she would listen with profound respect. Kiyo is far superior to Red Shirt. "Of course, that't all right as long as you don't do anything wrong. But although you may not do anything wrong, they will do you just the same unless you can see the wrong of others. There are fellows you have got to watch,--the fellows who may appear off-hand, simple and so kind as to get boarding house for you...... Getting rather cold. 'Tis already autumn, isn't it. The beach looks beer-color in the fog. A fine view. Say, Mr. Yoshikawa, what do you think of the scene along the beach?......" This in a loud voice was addressed to Clown. "Indeed, this is a fine view. I'd get a sketch of it if I had time. Seems a pity to leave it there," answered Clown. A light was seen upstairs at Minato-ya, and just as the whistle of a train was sounded, our boat pushed its nose deep into the sand. "Well, so you're back early," courtesied the wife of the boatman as she stepped upon the sand. I stood on the edge of the boat; and whoop! I jumped out to the beach. CHAPTER VI. I heartily despise Clown. It would be beneficial for Japan if such a fellow were tied to a quernstone and dumped into the sea. As to Red Shirt, his voice did not suit my fancy. I believe he suppresses his natural tones to put on airs and assume genteel manner. He may put on all kinds of airs, but nothing good will come of it with that type of face. If anything falls in love with him, perhaps the Madonna will be about the limit. As a head-teacher, however, he is more serious than Clown. As he did not say definitely, I cannot get to the point, but it appears that he warned me to look-out for Porcupine as he is crooked. If that was the case, he should have declared it like a man. And if Porcupine is so bad a teacher as that, it would be better to discharge him. What a lack of backbone for a head teacher and a Bachelor of Arts! As he is a fellow so cautious as to be unable to mention the name of the other even in a whisper, he is surely a mollycoddle. All mollycoddles are kind, and that Red Shirt may be as kind as a woman. His kindness is one thing, and his voice quite another, and it would be wrong to disregard his kindness on account of his voice. But then, isn't this world a funny place! The fellow I don't like is kind to me, and the friend whom I like is crooked,--how absurd! Probably everything here goes in opposite directions as it is in the country, the contrary holds in Tokyo. A dangerous place, this. By degrees, fires may get frozen and custard pudding petrified. But it is hardly believable that Porcupine would incite the students, although he might do most anything he wishes as he is best liked among them. Instead of taking in so roundabout a way, in the first place, it would have saved him a lot of trouble if he came direct to me and got at me for a fight. If I am in his way, he had better tell me so, and ask me to resign because I am in his way. There is nothing that cannot be settled by talking it over. If what he says sounds reasonable, I would resign even tomorrow. This is not the only town where I can get bread and butter; I ought not to die homeless wherever I go. I thought Porcupine was a better sport. When I came here, Porcupine was the first to treat me to ice water. To be treated by such a fellow, even if it is so trifling a thing as ice water, affects my honor. I had only one glass then and had him pay only one sen and a half. But one sen or half sen, I shall not die in peace if I accept a favor from a swindler. I will pay it back tomorrow when I go to the school. I borrowed three yen from Kiyo. That three yen is not paid yet to-day, though it is five years since. Not that I could not pay, but that I did not want to. Kiyo never looks to my pocket thinking I shall pay it back by-the-bye. Not by any means. I myself do not expect to fulfill cold obligation like a stranger by meditating on returning it. The more I worry about paying it back, the more I may be doubting the honest heart of Kiyo. It would be the same as traducing her pure mind. I have not paid her back that three yen not because I regard her lightly, but because I regard her as part of myself. Kiyo and Porcupine cannot be compared, of course, but whether it be ice water or tea, the fact that I accept another's favor without saying anything is an act of good-will, taking the other on his par value, as a decent fellow. Instead of chipping in my share, and settling each account, to receive munificence with grateful mind is an acknowledgment which no amount of money can purchase. I have neither title nor official position but I am an independent fellow, and to have an independent fellow kowtow to you in acknowledgment of the favor you extend him should be considered as far more than a return acknowledgment with a million yen. I made Porcupine blow one sen and a half, and gave him my gratitude which is more costly than a million yen. He ought to have been thankful for that. And then what an outrageous fellow to plan a cowardly action behind my back! I will give him back that one sen and a half tomorrow, and all will be square. Then I will land him one. When I thought thus far, I felt sleepy and slept like a log. The next day, as I had something in my mind, I went to the school earlier than usual and waited for Porcupine, but he did not appear for a considerable time. "Confucius" was there, so was Clown, and finally Red Shirt, but for Porcupine there was a piece of chalk on his desk but the owner was not there. I had been thinking of paying that one sen and a half as soon as I entered the room, and had brought the coppers to the school grasped in my hand. My hands get easily sweaty, and when I opened my hand, I found them wet. Thinking that Porcupine might say something if wet coins were given him, I placed them upon my desk, and cooled them by blowing in them. Then Red Shirt came to me and said he was sorry to detain me yesterday, thought I have been annoyed. I told him I was not annoyed at all, only I was hungry. Thereupon Red Shirt put his elbows upon the desk, brought his sauce-pan-like face close to my nose, and said; "Say, keep dark what I told you yesterday in the boat. You haven't told it anybody, have you?" He seems quite a nervous fellow as becoming one who talks in a feminish voice. It was certain that I had not told it to anybody, but as I was in the mood to tell it and had already one sen and a half in my hand, I would be a little rattled if a gag was put on me. To the devil with Red Shirt! Although he had not mentioned the name "Porcupine," he had given me such pointers as to put me wise as to who the objective was, and now he requested me not to blow the gaff!--it was an irresponsibility least to be expected from a head teacher. In the ordinary run of things, he should step into the thick of the fight between Porcupine and me, and side with me with all his colors flying. By so doing, he might be worthy the position of the head teacher, and vindicate the principle of wearing red shirts. I told the head teacher that I had not divulged the secret to anybody but was going to fight it out with Porcupine. Red Shirt was greatly perturbed, and stuttered out; "Say, don't do anything so rash as that. I don't remember having stated anything plainly to you about Mr. Hotta....... if you start a scrimmage here, I'll be greatly embarrassed." And he asked the strangely outlandish question if I had come to the school to start trouble? Of course not, I said, the school would not stand for my making trouble and pay me salary for it. Red Shirt then, perspiring, begged me to keep the secret as mere reference and never mention it. "All right, then," I assured him, "this robs me shy, but since you're so afraid of it, I'll keep it all to myself." "Are you sure?" repeated Red Shirt. There was no limit to his womanishness. If Red Shirt was typical of Bachelors of Arts, I did not see much in them. He appeared composed after having requested me to do something self-contradictory and wanting logic, and on top of that suspects my sincerity. "Don't you mistake," I said to myself, "I'm a man to the marrow, and haven't the idea of breaking my own promises; mark that!" Meanwhile the occupants of the desks on both my sides came to the room, and Red Shirt hastily withdrew to his own desk. Red Shirt shows some air even in his walk. In stepping about the room, he places down his shoes so as to make no sound. For the first time I came to know that making no sound in one's walk was something satisfactory to one's vanity. He was not training himself for a burglar, I suppose. He should cut out such nonsense before it gets worse. Then the bugle for the opening of classes was heard. Porcupine did not appear after all. There was no other way but to leave the coins upon the desk and attend the class. When I returned to the room a little late after the first hour class, all the teachers were there at their desks, and Porcupine too was there. The moment Porcupine saw my face, he said that he was late on my account, and I should pay him a fine. I took out that one sen and a half, and saying it was the price of the ice water, shoved it on his desk and told him to take it. "Don't josh me," he said, and began laughing, but as I appeared unusually serious, he swept the coins back to my desk, and flung back, "Quit fooling." So he really meant to treat me, eh? "No fooling; I mean it," I said. "I have no reason to accept your treat, and that's why I pay you back. Why don't you take it?" "If you're so worried about that one sen and a half, I will take it, but why do you pay it at this time so suddenly?" "This time or any time, I want to pay it back. I pay it back because I don't like you treat me." Porcupine coldly gazed at me and ejaculated "H'm." If I had not been requested by Red Shirt, here was the chance to show up his cowardice and make it hot for him. But since I had promised not to reveal the secret, I could do nothing. What the deuce did he mean by "H'm" when I was red with anger. "I'll take the price of the ice water, but I want you leave your boarding house." "Take that coin; that's all there is to it. To leave or not,--that's my pleasure." "But that is not your pleasure. The boss of your boarding house came to me yesterday and wanted me to tell you leave the house, and when I heard his explanation, what he said was reasonable. And I dropped there on my way here this morning to hear more details and make sure of everything." What Porcupine was trying to get at was all dark to me. "I don't care a snap what the boss was damn well pleased to tell you," I cried. "What do you mean by deciding everything by yourself! If there is any reason, tell me first. What's the matter with you, deciding what the boss says is reasonable without hearing me." "Then you shall hear," he said. "You're too tough and been regarded a nuisance over there. Say, the wife of a boarding house is a wife, not a maid, and you've been such a four-flusher as to make her wipe your feet." "When did I make her wipe my feet?" I asked. "I don't know whether you did or did not, but anyway they're pretty sore about you. He said he can make ten or fifteen yen easily if he sell a roll of panel-picture." "Damn the chap! Why did he take me for a boarder then!" "I don't know why. They took you but they want you leave because they got tired of you. So you'd better get out." "Sure, I will. Who'd stay in such a house even if they beg me on their knees. You're insolent to have induced me to go to such a false accuser in the first place." "Might be either I'm insolent or you're tough." Porcupine is no less hot-tempered than I am, and spoke with equally loud voice. All the other teachers in the room, surprised, wondering what has happened, looked in our direction and craned their necks. I was not conscious of having done anything to be ashamed of, so I stood up and looked around. Clown alone was laughing amused. The moment he met my glaring stare as if to say "You too want to fight?" he suddenly assumed a grave face and became serious. He seemed to be a little cowed. Meanwhile the bugle was heard, and Porcupine and I stopped the quarrel and went to the class rooms. In the afternoon, a meeting of the teachers was going to be held to discuss the question of punishment of those students in the dormitory who offended me the other night. This meeting was a thing I had to attend for the first time in my life, and I was totally ignorant about it. Probably it was where the teachers gathered to blow about their own opinions and the principal bring them to compromise somehow. To compromise is a method used when no decision can be delivered as to the right or wrong of either side. It seemed to me a waste of time to hold a meeting over an affair in which the guilt of the other side was plain as daylight. No matter who tried to twist it round, there was no ground for doubting the facts. It would have been better if the principal had decided at once on such a plain case; he is surely wanting in decision. If all principals are like this, a principal is a synonym of a "dilly-dally." The meeting hall was a long, narrow room next to that of the principal, and was used for dining room. About twenty chairs, with black leather seat, were lined around a narrow table, and the whole scene looked like a restaurant in Kanda. At one end of the table the principal took his seat, and next to him Red Shirt. All the rest shifted for themselves, but the gymnasium teacher is said always to take the seat farthest down out of modesty. The situation was new to me, so I sat down between the teachers of natural history and of Confucius. Across the table sat Porcupine and Clown. Think how I might, the face of Clown was a degrading type. That of Porcupine was far more charming, even if I was now on bad terms with him. The panel picture which hung in the alcove of the reception hall of Yogen temple where I went to the funeral of my father, looked exactly like this Porcupine. A priest told me the picture was the face of a strange creature called Idaten. To-day he was pretty sore, and frequently stared at me with his fiery eyes rolling. "You can't bulldoze me with that," I thought, and rolled my own in defiance and stared back at him. My eyes are not well-shaped but their large size is seldom beaten by others. Kiyo even once suggested that I should make a fine actor because I had big eyes. "All now here?" asked the principal, and the clerk named Kawamura counted one, two, three and one was short. "Just one more," said the clerk, and it ought to be; Hubbard Squash was not there. I don't know what affinity there is between Hubbard Squash and me, but I can never forget his face. When I come to the teachers' room, his face attracts me first; while walking out in the street, his manners are recalled to my mind. When I go to the hot springs, sometimes I meet him with a pale-face in the bath, and if I hallooed to him, he would raise his trembling head, making me feel sorry for him. In the school there is no teacher so quiet as he. He seldom, if ever, laughs or talks. I knew the word "gentleman" from books, and thought it was found only in the dictionary, but not a thing alive. But since I met Hubbard Squash, I was impressed for the first time that the word represented a real substance. As he is a man so attached to me, I had noticed his absence as soon as I entered the meeting hall. To tell the truth, I came to the hall with the intention of sitting next to him. The principal said that the absentee may appear shortly, and untied a package he had before him, taking out some hectograph sheets and began reading them. Red Shirt began polishing his amber pipe with a silk handkerchief. This was his hobby, which was probably becoming to him. Others whispered with their neighbors. Still others were writing nothings upon the table with the erasers at the end of their pencils. Clown talked to Porcupine once in a while, but he was not responsive. He only said "Umh" or "Ahm," and stared at me with wrathful eyes. I stared back with equal ferocity. Then the tardy Hubbard Squash apologetically entered, and politely explained that he was unavoidably detained. "Well, then the meeting is called to order," said Badger. On these sheets was printed, first the question of the punishment of the offending students, second that of superintending the students, and two or three other matters. Badger, putting on airs as usual, as if he was an incarnation of education, spoke to the following effect. "Any misdeeds or faults among the teachers or the students in this school are due to the lack of virtues in my person, and whenever anything happens, I inwardly feel ashamed that a man like me could hold his position. Unfortunately such an affair has taken place again, and I have to apologize from my heart. But since it has happened, it cannot be helped; we must settle it one way or other. The facts are as you already know, and I ask you gentlemen to state frankly the best means by which the affair may be settled." When I heard the principal speak, I was impressed that indeed the principal, or Badger, was saying something "grand." If the principal was willing to assume all responsibilities, saying it was his fault or his lack of virtues, it would have been better stop punishing the students and get himself fired first. Then there will be no need of holding such thing as a meeting. In the first place, just consider it by common sense. I was doing my night duty right, and the students started trouble. The wrong doer is neither the principal nor I. If Porcupine incited them, then it would be enough to get rid of the students and Porcupine. Where in thunder would be a peach of damfool who always swipes other people's faults and says "these are mine?" It was a stunt made possible only by Badger. Having made such an illogical statement, he glanced at the teachers in a highly pleased manner. But no one opened his mouth. The teacher of natural history was gazing at the crow which had hopped on the roof of the nearby building. The teacher of Confucius was folding and unfolding the hectograph sheet. Porcupine was still staring at me. If a meeting was so nonsensical an affair as this, I would have been better absent taking a nap at home. I became irritated, and half raised myself, intending to make a convincing speech, but just then Red Shirt began saying something and I stopped. I saw him say something, having put away his pipe, and wiping his face with a striped silk handkerchief. I'm sure he copped that handkerchief from the Madonna; men should use white linen. He said: "When I heard of the rough affairs in the dormitory, I was greatly ashamed as the head teacher of my lack of discipline and influence. When such an affair takes place there is underlying cause somewhere. Looking at the affair itself, it may seem that the students were wrong, but in a closer study of the facts, we may find the responsibility resting with the School. Therefore, I'm afraid it might affect us badly in the future if we administer too severe a punishment on the strength of what has been shown on the surface. As they are youngsters, full of life and vigor, they might half-consciously commit some youthful pranks, without due regard as to their good or bad. As to the mode of punishment itself, I have no right to suggest since it is a matter entirely in the hand of the principal, but I should ask, considering these points, that some leniency be shown toward the students." Well, as Badger, so was Red Shirt. He declares the "Rough Necks" among the students is not their fault but the fault of the teachers. A crazy person beats other people because the beaten are wrong. Very grateful, indeed. If the students were so full of life and vigor, shovel them out into the campus and let them wrestle their heads off. Who would have grasshoppers put into his bed unconsciously! If things go on like this, they may stab some one asleep, and get freed as having done the deed unconsciously. Having figured it out in this wise, I thought I would state my own views on the matter, but I wanted to give them an eloquent speech and fairly take away their breath. I have an affection of the windpipe which clog after two or three words when I am excited. Badger and Red Shirt are below my standing in their personality, but they were skilled in speech-making, and it would not do to have them see my awkwardness. I'll make a rough note of composition first, I thought, and started mentally making a sentence, when, to my surprise, Clown stood up suddenly. It was unusual for Clown to state his opinion. He spoke in his flippant tone: "Really the grasshopper incident and the whoop-la affair are peculiar happenings which are enough to make us doubt our own future. We teachers at this time must strive to clear the atmosphere of the school. And what the principal and the head teacher have said just now are fit and proper. I entirely agree with their opinions. I wish the punishment be moderate." In what Clown had said there were words but no meaning. It was a juxtaposition of high-flown words making no sense. All that I understood was the words, "I entirely agree with their opinions." Clown's meaning was not clear to me, but as I was thoroughly angered, I rose without completing my rough note. "I am entirely opposed to......." I said, but the rest did not come at once. ".......I don't like such a topsy-turvy settlement," I added and the fellows began laughing. "The students are absolutely wrong from the beginning. It would set a bad precedent if we don't make them apologize ....... What do we care if we kick them all out ....... darn the kids trying to guy a new comer......." and I sat down. Then the teacher of natural history who sat on my right whined a weak opinion, saying "The students may be wrong, but if we punish them too severely, they may start a reaction and would make it rather bad. I am for the moderate side, as the head teacher suggested." The teacher of Confucius on my left expressed his agreement with the moderate side, and so did the teacher of history endorse the views of the head teacher. Dash those weak-knees! Most of them belonged to the coterie of Red Shirt. It would make a dandy school if such fellows run it. I had decided in my mind that it must be either the students apologize to me or I resign, and if the opinion of Red Shirt prevailed, I had determined to return home and pack up. I had no ability of out-talking such fellows, or even if I had, I was in no humor to keeping their company for long. Since I don't expect to remain in the school, the devil may take care of the rest. If I said anything, they would only laugh; so I shut my mouth tight. Porcupine, who up to this time had been listening to the others, stood up with some show of spirit. Ha, the fellow was going to endorse the views of Red Shirt, eh? You and I got to fight it out anyway, I thought, so do any way you darn please. Porcupine spoke in a thunderous voice: "I entirely differ from the opinions of the head teacher and other gentlemen. Because, viewed from whatever angle, this incident cannot be other than an attempt by those fifty students in the dormitory to make a fool of a new teacher. The head teacher seems to trace the cause of the trouble to the personality of that teacher himself, but, begging his pardon, I think he is mistaken. The night that new teacher was on night duty was not long after his arrival, not more than twenty days after he had come into contact with the students. During those short twenty days, the students could have no reason to criticise his knowledges or his person. If he was insulted for some cause which deserved insult, there may be reasons in our considering the act of the students, but if we show undue leniency toward the frivolous students who would insult a new teacher without cause, it would affect the dignity of this school. The spirit of education is not only in imparting technical knowledges, but also in encouraging honest, ennobling and samurai-like virtues, while eliminating the evil tendency to vulgarity and roughness. If we are afraid of reaction or further trouble, and satisfy ourselves with make-shifts, there is no telling when we can ever get rid of this evil atmosphere[G]. We are here to eradicate this very evil. If we mean to countenance it, we had better not accepted our positions here. For these reasons, I believe it proper to punish the students in the dormitory to the fullest extent and also make them apologize to that teacher in the open." All were quiet. Red Shirt again began polishing his pipe. I was greatly elated. He spoke almost what I had wanted to. I'm such a simple-hearted fellow that I forgot all about the bickerings with Porcupine, and looked at him with a grateful face, but he appeared to take no notice of me. After a while, Porcupine again stood up, and said. "I forgot to mention just now, so I wish to add. The teacher on night duty that night seems to have gone to the hot springs during his duty hours, and I think it a blunder. It is a matter of serious misconduct to take the advantage of being in sole charge of the school, to slip out to a hot springs. The bad behavior of the students is one thing; this blunder is another, and I wish the principal to call attention of the responsible person to that matter." A strange fellow! No sooner had he backed me up than he began talking me down. I knew the other night watch went out during his duty hours, and thought it was a custom, so I went as far out as to the hot springs without considering the situation seriously. But when it was pointed out like this, I realised that I had been wrong. Thereupon I rose again and said; "I really went to the hot springs. It was wrong and I apologize." Then all again laughed. Whatever I say, they laugh. What a lot of boobs! See if you fellows can make a clean breast of your own fault like this! You fellows laugh because you can't talk straight. After that the principal said that since it appeared that there will be no more opinions, he will consider the matter well and administer what he may deem a proper punishment. I may here add the result of the meeting. The students in the dormitory were given one week's confinement, and in addition to that, apologized to me. If they had not apologized, I intended to resign and go straight home, but as it was it finally resulted in a bigger and still worse affair, of which more later. The principal then at the meeting said something to the effect that the manners of the students should be directed rightly by the teachers' influence, and as the first step, no teacher should patronize, if possible, the shops where edibles and drinks were served, excepting, however, in case of farewell party or such social gatherings. He said he would like no teacher to go singly to eating houses of lower kind--for instance, noodle-house or dango shop.... And again all laughed. Clown looked at Porcupine, said "tempura" and winked his eyes, but Porcupine regarded him in silence. Good! My "think box" is not of superior quality, so things said by Badger were not clear to me, but I thought if a fellow can't hold the job of teacher in a middle school because he patronizes a noodle-house or dango shop, the fellow with bear-like appetite like me will never be able to hold it. If it was the case, they ought to have specified when calling for a teacher one who does not eat noodle and dango. To give an appointment without reference to the matter at first, and then to proclaim that noodle or dango should not be eaten was a blow to a fellow like me who has no other petty hobby. Then Red Shirt again opened his mouth. "Teachers of the middle school belong to the upper class of society and they should not be looking after material pleasures only, for it would eventually have effect upon their personal character. But we are human, and it would be intolerable in a small town like this to live without any means of affording some pleasure to ourselves, such as fishing, reading literary products, composing new style poems, or haiku (17-syllable poem). We should seek mental consolation of higher order." There seemed no prospect that he would quit the hot air. If it was a mental consolation to fish fertilisers on the sea, have goruki for Russian literature, or to pose a favorite geisha beneath pine tree, it would be quite as much a mental consolation to eat dempura noodle and swallow dango. Instead of dwelling on such sham consolations, he would find his time better spent by washing his red shirts. I became so exasperated that I asked; "Is it also a mental consolation to meet the Madonna?" No one laughed this time and looked at each other with queer faces, and Red Shirt himself hung his head, apparently embarrassed. Look at that! A good shot, eh? Only I was sorry for Hubbard Squash who, having heard the remark, became still paler. CHAPTER VII. That very night I left the boarding house. While I was packing up, the boss came to me and asked if there was anything wrong in the way I was treated. He said he would be pleased to correct it and suit me if I was sore at anything. This beats me, sure. How is it possible for so many boneheads to be in this world! I could not tell whether they wanted me to stay or get out. They're crazy. It would be disgrace for a Yedo kid to fuss about with such a fellow; so I hired a rikishaman and speedily left the house. I got out of the house all right, but had no place to go. The rikishaman asked me where I was going. I told him to follow me with his mouth shut, then he shall see and I kept on walking. I thought of going to Yamashiro-ya to avoid the trouble of hunting up a new boarding house, but as I had no prospect of being able to stay there long, I would have to renew the hunt sooner or later, so I gave up the idea. If I continued walking this way, I thought I might strike a house with the sign of "boarders taken" or something similar, and I would consider the first house with the sign the one provided for me by Heaven. I kept on going round and round through the quiet, decent part of the town when I found myself at Kajimachi. This used to be former samurai quarters where one had the least chance of finding any boarding house, and I was going to retreat to a more lively part of the town when a good idea occurred to me. Hubbard Squash whom I respected lived in this part of the town. He is a native of the town, and has lived in the house inherited from his great grandfather. He must be, I thought, well informed about nearly everything in this town. If I call on him for his help, he will perhaps find me a good boarding house. Fortunately, I called at his house once before, and there was no trouble in finding it out. I knocked at the door of a house, which I knew must be his, and a woman about fifty years old with an old fashioned paper-lantern in hand, appeared at the door. I do not despise young women, but when I see an aged woman, I feel much more solicitous. This is probably because I am so fond of Kiyo. This aged lady, who looked well-refined, was certainly mother of Hubbard Squash whom she resembled. She invited me inside, but I asked her to call him out for me. When he came I told him all the circumstances, and asked him if he knew any who would take me for a boarder. Hubbard Squash thought for a moment in a sympathetic mood, then said there was an old couple called Hagino, living in the rear of the street, who had asked him sometime ago to get some boarders for them as there are only two in the house and they had some vacant rooms. Hubbard Squash was kind enough to go along with me and find out if the rooms were vacant. They were. From that night I boarded at the house of the Haginos. What surprised me was that on the day after I left the house of Ikagin, Clown stepped in and took the room I had been occupying. Well used to all sorts of tricks and crooks as I might have been, this audacity fairly knocked me off my feet. It was sickening. I saw that I would be an easy mark for such people unless I brace up and try to come up, or down, to their level. It would be a high time indeed for me to be alive if it were settled that I would not get three meals a day without living on the spoils of pick pockets. Nevertheless, to hang myself,--healthy and vigorous as I am,--would be not only inexcusable before my ancestors but a disgrace before the public. Now I think it over, it would have been better for me to have started something like a milk delivery route with that six hundred yen as capital, instead of learning such a useless stunt as mathematics at the School of Physics. If I had done so, Kiyo could have stayed with me, and I could have lived without worrying about her so far a distance away. While I was with her I did not notice it, but separated thus I appreciated Kiyo as a good-natured old woman. One could not find a noble natured woman like Kiyo everywhere. She was suffering from a slight cold when I left Tokyo and I wondered how she was getting on now? Kiyo must have been pleased when she received the letter from me the other day. By the way, I thought it was the time I was in receipt of answer from her. I spent two or three days with things like this in my mind. I was anxious about the answer, and asked the old lady of the house if any letter came from Tokyo for me, and each time she would appear sympathetic and say no. The couple here, being formerly of samurai class, unlike the Ikagin couple, were both refined. The old man's recital of "utai" in a queer voice at night was somewhat telling on my nerves, but it was much easier on me as he did not frequent my room like Ikagin with the remark of "let me serve you tea." The old lady once in a while would come to my room and chat on many things. She questioned me why I had not brought my wife with me. I asked her if I looked like one married, reminding her that I was only twenty four yet. Saying "it is proper for one to get married at twenty four" as a beginning, she recited that Mr. Blank married when he was twenty, that Mr. So-and-So has already two children at twenty two, and marshalled altogether about half a dozen examples,--quite a damper on my youthful theory. I will then get marred at twenty four, I said, and requested her to find me a good wife, and she asked me if I really meant it. "Really? You bet! I can't help wanting to get married." "I should suppose so. Everybody is just like that when young." This remark was a knocker; I could not say anything to that. "But I'm sure you have a Madam already. I have seen to that with my own eyes." "Well, they are sharp eyes. How have you seen it?" "How? Aren't you often worried to death, asking if there's no letter from Tokyo?" "By Jupiter! This beats me!" "Hit the mark, haven't I?" "Well, you probably have." "But the girls of these days are different from what they used to be and you need a sharp look-out on them. So you'd better be careful." "Do you mean that my Madam in Tokyo is behaving badly?" "No, your Madam is all right." "That makes me feel safe. Then about what shall I be careful?" "Yours is all right. Though yours is all right......." "Where is one not all right?" "Rather many right in this town. You know the daughter of the Toyamas? "No, I do not." "You don't know her yet? She is the most beautiful girl about here. She is so beautiful that the teachers in the school call her Madonna. You haven't heard that? "Ah, the Madonna! I thought it was the name of a geisha." "No, Sir. Madonna is a foreign word and means a beautiful girl, doesn't it?" "That may be. I'm surprised." "Probably the name was given by the teacher of drawing." "Was it the work of Clown?" "No, it was given by Professor Yoshikawa." "Is that Madonna not all right?" "That Madonna-san is a Madonna not all right." "What a bore! We haven't any decent woman among those with nicknames from old days. I should suppose the Madonna is not all right." "Exactly. We have had awful women such as O-Matsu the Devil or Ohyaku the Dakki. "Does the Madonna belong to that ring?" "That Madonna-san, you know, was engaged to Professor Koga,--who brought you here,--yes, was promised to him." "Ha, how strange! I never knew our friend Hubbard Squash was a fellow of such gallantry. We can't judge a man by his appearance. I'll be a bit more careful." "The father of Professor Koga died last year,--up to that time they had money and shares in a bank and were well off,--but since then things have grown worse, I don't know why. Professor Koga was too good-natured, in short, and was cheated, I presume. The wedding was delayed by one thing or another and there appeared the head teacher who fell in love with the Madonna head over heels and wanted to many her." "Red Shirt? He ought be hanged. I thought that shirt was not an ordinary kind of shirt. Well?" "The head-teacher proposed marriage through a go-between, but the Toyamas could not give a definite answer at once on account of their relations with the Kogas. They replied that they would consider the matter or something like that. Then Red Shirt-san worked up some ways and started visiting the Toyamas and has finally won the heart of the Miss. Red Shirt-san is bad, but so is Miss Toyama; they all talk bad of them. She had agreed to be married to Professor Koga and changed her mind because a Bachelor of Arts began courting her,--why, that would be an offense to the God of To-day." "Of course. Not only of To-day but also of tomorrow and the day after; in fact, of time without end." "So Hotta-san a friend of Koga-san, felt sorry for him and went to the head teacher to remonstrate with him. But Red Shirt-san said that he had no intention of taking away anybody who is promised to another. He may get married if the engagement is broken, he said, but at present he was only being acquainted with the Toyamas and he saw nothing wrong in his visiting the Toyamas. Hotta-san couldn't do anything and returned. Since then they say Red Shirt-san and Hotta-san are on bad terms." "You do know many things, I should say. How did you get such details? I'm much impressed." "The town is so small that I can know everything." Yes, everything seems to be known more than one cares. Judging by her way, this woman probably knows about my tempura and dango affairs. Here was a pot that would make peas rattle! The meaning of the Madonna, the relations between Porcupine and Red Shirt became clear and helped me a deal. Only what puzzled me was the uncertainty as to which of the two was wrong. A fellow simple-hearted like me could not tell which side he should help unless the matter was presented in black and white. "Of Red Shirt and Porcupine, which is a better fellow?" "What is Porcupine, Sir?" "Porcupine means Hotta." "Well, Hotta-san is physically strong, as strength goes, but Red Shirt-san is a Bachelor of Arts and has more ability. And Red Shirt-san is more gentle, as gentleness goes, but Hotta-san is more popular among the students." "After all, which is better?" "After all, the one who gets a bigger salary is greater, I suppose?" There was no use of going on further in this way, and I closed the talk. Two or three days after this, when I returned from the school, the old lady with a beaming smile, brought me a letter, saying, "Here you are Sir, at last. Take your time and enjoy it." I took it up and found it was from Kiyo. On the letter were two or three retransmission slips, and by these I saw the letter was sent from Yamashiro-ya to the Iagins, then to the Haginos. Besides, it stayed at Yamashiro-ya for about one week; even letters seemed to stop in a hotel. I opened it, and it was a very long letter. "When I received the letter from my Master Darling, I intended to write an answer at once. But I caught cold and was sick abed for about one week and the answer was delayed for which I beg your pardon. I am not well-used to writing or reading like girls in these days, and it required some efforts to get done even so poorly written a letter as this. I was going to ask my nephew to write it for me, but thought it inexcusable to my Master Darling when I should take special pains for myself. So I made a rough copy once, and then a clean copy. I finished the clean copy, in two days, but the rough copy took me four days. It may be difficult for you to read, but as I have written this letter with all my might, please read it to the end." This was the introductory part of the letter in which, about four feet long, were written a hundred and one things. Well, it was difficult to read. Not only was it poorly written but it was a sort of juxtaposition of simple syllables that racked one's brain to make it clear where it stopped or where it began. I am quick-tempered and would refuse to read such a long, unintelligible letter for five yen, but I read this seriously from the first to the last. It is a fact that I read it through. My efforts were mostly spent in untangling letters and sentences; so I started reading it over again. The room had become a little dark, and this rendered it harder to read it; so finally I stepped out to the porch where I sat down and went over it carefully. The early autumn breeze wafted through the leaves of the banana trees, bathed me with cool evening air, rustled the letter I was holding and would have blown it clear to the hedge if I let it go. I did not mind anything like this, but kept on reading. "Master Darling is simple and straight like a split bamboo by disposition," it says, "only too explosive. That's what worries me. If you brand other people with nicknames you will only make enemies of them; so don't use them carelessly; if you coin new ones, just tell them only to Kiyo in your letters. The countryfolk are said to be bad, and I wish you to be careful not have them do you. The weather must be worse than in Tokyo, and you should take care not to catch cold. Your letter is too short that I can't tell how things are going on with you. Next time write me a letter at least half the length of this one. Tipping the hotel with five yen is all right, but were you not short of money afterward? Money is the only thing one can depend upon when in the country and you should economize and be prepared for rainy days. I'm sending you ten yen by postal money order. I have that fifty yen my Master Darling gave me deposited in the Postal Savings to help you start housekeeping when you return to Tokyo, and taking out this ten, I have still forty yen left,--quite safe." I should say women are very particular on many things. When I was meditating with the letter flapping in my hand on the porch, the old lady opened the sliding partition and brought in my supper. "Still poring over the letter? Must be a very long one, I imagine," she said. "Yes, this is an important letter, so I'm reading it with the wind blowing it about," I replied--the reply which was nonsense even for myself,--and I sat down for supper. I looked in the dish on the tray, and saw the same old sweet potatoes again to-night. This new boarding house was more polite and considerate and refined than the Ikagins, but the grub was too poor stuff and that was one drawback. It was sweet potato yesterday, so it was the day before yesterday, and here it is again to-night. True, I declared myself very fond of sweet potatoes, but if I am fed with sweet potatoes with such insistency, I may soon have to quit this dear old world. I can't be laughing at Hubbard Squash; I shall become Sweet Potato myself before long. If it were Kiyo she would surely serve me with my favorite sliced tunny or fried kamaboko, but nothing doing with a tight, poor samurai. It seems best that I live with Kiyo. If I have to stay long in the school, I believe I would call her from Tokyo. Don't eat tempura, don't eat dango, and then get turned yellow by feeding on sweet potatoes only, in the boarding house. That's for an educator, and his place is really a hard one. I think even the priests of the Zen sect are enjoying better feed. I cleaned up the sweet potatoes, then took out two raw eggs from the drawer of my desk, broke them on the edge of the rice bowl, to tide it over. I have to get nourishment by eating raw eggs or something, or how can I stand the teaching of twenty one hours a week? I was late for my bath to-day on account of the letter from Kiyo. But I would not like to drop off a single day since I had been there everyday. I thought I would take a train to-day, and coming to the station with the same old red towel dangling out of my hand, I found the train had just left two or three minutes ago, and had to wait for some time. While I was smoking a cigarette on a bench, my friend Hubbard Squash happened to come in. Since I heard the story about him from the old lady my sympathy for him had become far greater than ever. His reserve always appeared to me pathetic. It was no longer a case of merely pathetic; more than that. I was wishing to get his salary doubled, if possible, and have him marry Miss Toyama and send them to Tokyo for about one month on a pleasure trip. Seeing him, therefore, I motioned him to a seat beside me, addressing him cheerfully: "Hello[H], going to bath? Come and sit down here." Hubbard Squash, appearing much awe-struck, said; "Don't mind me, Sir," and whether out of polite reluctance or I don't know what, remained standing. "You have to wait for a little while before the next train starts; sit down; you'll be tired," I persuaded him again. In fact, I was so sympathetic for him that I wished to have him sit down by me somehow. Then with a "Thank you, Sir," he at last sat down. A fellow like Clown, always fresh, butts in where he is not wanted; or like Porcupine swaggers about with a face which says "Japan would be hard up without me," or like Red Shirt, self-satisfied in the belief of being the wholesaler of gallantry and of cosmetics. Or like Badger who appears to say; "If 'Education' were alive and put on a frockcoat, it would look like me." One and all in one way or other have bravado, but I have never seen any one like this Hubbard Squash, so quiet and resigned, like a doll taken for a ransom. His face is rather swollen but for the Madonna to cast off such a splendid fellow and give preference to Red Shirt, was frivolous beyond my understanding. Put how many dozens of Red Shirt you like together, it will not make one husband of stuff to beat Hubbard Squash. "Is anything wrong with you? You look quite fatigued," I asked. "No, I have no particular ailments......." "That's good. Poor health is the worst thing one can get." "You appear very strong." "Yes, I'm thin, but never got sick. That's something I don't like." Hubbard Squash smiled at my words. Just then I heard some young girlish laughs at the entrance, and incidentally looking that way, I saw a "peach." A beautiful girl, tall, white-skinned, with her head done up in "high-collared" style, was standing with a woman of about forty-five or six, in front of the ticket window. I am not a fellow given to describing a belle, but there was no need to repeat asserting that she was beautiful. I felt as if I had warmed a crystal ball with perfume and held it in my hand. The older woman was shorter, but as she resembled the younger, they might be mother and daughter. The moment I saw them, I forgot all about Hubbard Squash, and was intently gazing at the young beauty. Then I was a bit startled to see Hubbard Squash suddenly get up and start walking slowly toward them. I wondered if she was not the Madonna. The three were courtesying in front of the ticket window, some distance away from me, and I could not hear what they were talking about. The clock at the station showed the next train to start in five minutes. Having lost my partner, I became impatient and longed for the train to start as soon as possible, when a fellow rushed into the station excited. It was Red Shirt. He had on some fluffy clothes, loosely tied round with a silk-crepe girdle, and wound to it the same old gold chain. That gold chain is stuffed. Red Shirt thinks nobody knows it and is making a big show of it, but I have been wise. Red Shirt stopped short, stared around, and then after bowing politely to the three still in front of the ticket window, made a remark or two, and hastily turned toward me. He came up to me, walking in his usual cat's style, and hallooed. "You too going to bath? I was afraid of missing the train and hurried up, but we have three or four minutes yet. Wonder if that clock is right?" He took out his gold watch, and remarking it wrong about two minutes sat down beside me. He never turned toward the belle, but with his chin on the top of a cane, steadily looked straight before him. The older woman would occasionally glance toward Red Shirt, but the younger kept her profile away. Surely she was the Madonna. The train now arrived with a shrill whistle and the passengers hastened to board. Red Shirt jumped into the first class coach ahead of all. One cannot brag much about boarding the first class coach here. It cost only five sen for the first and three sen for the second to Sumida; even I paid for the first and a white ticket. The country fellows, however, being all close, seemed to regard the expenditure of the extra two sen a serious matter and mostly boarded the second class. Following Red Shirt, the Madonna and her mother entered the first class. Hubbard Squash regularly rides in the second class. He stood at the door of a second class coach and appeared somewhat hesitating, but seeing me coming, took decisive steps and jumped into the second. I felt sorry for him--I do not know why--and followed him into the same coach. Nothing wrong in riding on the second with a ticket for the first, I believe. At the hot springs, going down from the third floor to the bath room in bathing gown, again I met Hubbard Squash. I feel my throat clogged up and unable to speak at a formal gathering, but otherwise I am rather talkative; so I opened conversation with him. He was so pathetic and my compassion was aroused to such an extent that I considered it the duty of a Yedo kid to console him to the best of my ability. But Hubbard Squash was not responsive. Whatever I said, he would only answer "eh?" or "umh," and even these with evident effort. Finally I gave up my sympathetic attempt and cut off the conversation. I did not meet Red Shirt at the bath. There are many bath rooms, and one does not necessarily meet the fellows at the same bath room though he might come on the same train. I thought it nothing strange. When I got out of the bath, I found the night bright with the moon. On both sides of the street stood willow trees which cast their shadows on the road. I would take a little stroll, I thought. Coming up toward north, to the end of the town, one sees a large gate to the left. Opposite the gate stands a temple and both sides of the approach to the temple are lined with houses with red curtains. A tenderloin inside a temple gate is an unheard-of phenomenon. I wanted to go in and have a look at the place, but for fear I might get another kick from Badger, I passed it by. A flat house with narrow lattice windows and black curtain at the entrance, near the gate, is the place where I ate dango and committed the blunder. A round lantern with the signs of sweet meats hung outside and its light fell on the trunk of a willow tree close by. I hungered to have a bite of dango, but went away forbearing. To be unable to eat dango one is so fond of eating, is tragic. But to have one's betrothed change her love to another, would be more tragic. When I think of Hubbard Squash, I believe that I should, not complain if I cannot eat dango or anything else for three days. Really there is nothing so unreliable a creature as man. As far as her face goes, she appears the least likely to commit so stony-hearted an act as this. But the beautiful person is cold-blooded and Koga-san who is swollen like a pumpkin soaked in water, is a gentleman to the core,--that's where we have to be on the look-out. Porcupine whom I had thought candid was said to have incited the students and he whom then I regarded an agitator, demanded of the principal a summary punishment of the students. The disgustingly snobbish Red Shirt is unexpectedly considerate and warns me in ways more than one, but then he won the Madonna by crooked means. He denies, however, having schemed anything crooked about the Madonna, and says he does not care to marry her unless her engagement with Koga is broken. When Ikagin beat me out of his house, Clown enters and takes my room. Viewed from any angle, man is unreliable. If I write these things to Kiyo, it would surprise her. She would perhaps say that because it is the west side of Hakone that the town had all the freaks and crooks dumped in together.[7] [Footnote 7: An old saying goes that east of the Hakone pass, there are no apparitions or freaks.] I do not by nature worry about little things, and had come so far without minding anything. But hardly a month had passed since I came here, and I have begun to regard the world quite uneasily. I have not met with any particularly serious affairs, but I feel as if I had grown five or six years older. Better say "good by" to this old spot soon and return to Tokyo, I thought. While strolling thus thinking on various matters, I had passed the stone bridge and come up to the levy of the Nozeri river. The word river sounds too big; it is a shallow stream of about six feet wide. If one goes on along the levy for about twelve blocks, he reaches the Aioi village where there is a temple of Kwanon. Looking back at the town of the hot springs, I see red lights gleaming amid the pale moon beams. Where the sound of the drum is heard must be the tenderloin. The stream is shallow but fast, whispering incessantly. When I had covered about three blocks walking leisurely upon the bank, I perceived a shadow ahead. Through the light of the moon, I found there were two shadows. They were probably village youngsters returning from the hot springs, though they did not sing, and were exceptionally quiet for that. I kept on walking, and I was faster than they. The two shadows became larger. One appeared like a woman. When I neared them within about sixty feet, the man, on hearing my footsteps, turned back. The moon was shining from behind me. I could see the manner of the man then and something queer struck me. They resumed their walk as before. And I chased them on a full speed. The other party, unconscious, walked slowly. I could now hear their voice distinctly. The levy was about six feet wide, and would allow only three abreast. I easily passed them, and turning back gazed squarely into the face of the man. The moon generously bathed my face with its beaming light. The fellow uttered a low "ah," and suddenly turning sideway, said to the woman "Let's go back." They traced their way back toward the hot springs town. Was it the intention of Red Shirt to hush the matter up by pretending ignorance, or was it lack of nerve? I was not the only fellow who suffered the consequence of living in a small narrow town. CHAPTER VIII. On my way back from the fishing to which I was invited by Red Shirt, and since then, I began to suspect Porcupine. When the latter wanted me to get out of Ikagin's house on sham pretexts, I regarded him a decidedly unpleasant fellow. But as Porcupine, at the teachers' meeting, contrary to my expectation, stood firmly for punishing the students to the fullest extent of the school regulations, I thought it queer. When I heard from the old lady about Porcupine volunteering himself for the sake of Hubbard Squash to stop Red Shirt meddling with the Madonna, I clapped my hands and hoorayed for him. Judging by these facts, I began to wonder if the wrong-doer might be not Porcupine, but Red Shirt the crooked one. He instilled into my head some flimsy hearsay plausibly and in a roundabout-way. At this juncture I saw Red Shirt taking a walk with the Madonna on the levy of the Nozeri river, and I decided that Red Shirt may be a scoundrel. I am not sure of his being really scoundrel at heart, but at any rate he is not a good fellow. He is a fellow with a double face. A man deserves no confidence unless he is as straight as the bamboo. One may fight a straight fellow, and feel satisfied. We cannot lose sight of the fact that Red Shirt or his kind who is kind, gentle, refined, and takes pride in his pipe had to be looked sharp, for I could not be too careful in getting into a scrap with the fellow of this type. I may fight, but I would not get square games like the wrestling matches it the Wrestling Amphitheatre in Tokyo. Come to think of it, Porcupine who turned against me and startled the whole teachers' room over the amount of one sen and a half is far more like a man. When he stared at me with owlish eyes at the teachers' meeting, I branded him as a spiteful guy, but as I consider the matter now, he is better than the feline voice of Red Shirt. To tell the truth, I tried to get reconciled with Porcupine, and after the meeting, spoke a word or two to him, but he shut up like a clam and kept glaring at me. So I became sore, and let it go at that. Porcupine has not spoken to me since. The one sen and a half which I paid him back upon the desk, is still there, well covered with dust. I could not touch it, nor would Porcupine take it. This one sen and a half has become a barrier between us two. We two were cursed with this one sen and a half. Later indeed I got sick of its sight that I hated to see it. While Porcupine and I were thus estranged, Red Shirt and I continued friendly relations and associated together. On the day following my accidental meeting with him near the Nozeri river, for instance, Red Shirt came to my desk as soon as he came to the school, and asked me how I liked the new boarding house. He said we would go together for fishing Russian literature again, and talked on many things. I felt a bit piqued, and said, "I saw you twice last night," and he answered, "Yes, at the station. Do you go there at that time every day? Isn't it late?" I startled him with the remark; "I met you on the levy of the Nozeri river too, didn't I?" and he replied, "No, I didn't go in that direction. I returned right after my bath." What is the use of trying to keep it dark. Didn't we meet actually face to face? He tells too many lies. If one can hold the job of a head teacher and act in this fashion, I should be able to run the position of Chancellor of a university. From this time on, my confidence in Red Shirt became still less. I talk with Red Shirt whom I do not trust, and I keep silent with Porcupine whom I respect. Funny things do happen in this world. One day Red Shirt asked me to come over to his house as he had something to tell me, and much as I missed the trip to the hot springs, I started for his house at about 4 o'clock. Red Shirt is single, but in keeping with the dignity of a head teacher, he gave up the boarding house life long ago, and lives in a fine house. The house rent, I understood, was nine yen and fifty sen. The front entrance was so attractive that I thought if one can live in such a splendid house at nine yen and a half in the country, it would be a good game to call Kiyo from Tokyo and make her heart glad. The younger brother of Red Shirt answered my bell. This brother gets his lessons on algebra and mathematics from me at the school. He stands no show in his school work, and being a "migratory bird" is more wicked than the native boys. I met Red Shirt. Smoking the same old unsavory amber pipe, he said something to the following effect: "Since you've been with us, our work has been more satisfactory than it was under your predecessor, and the principal is very glad to have got the right person in the right place. I wish you to work as hard as you can, for the school is depending upon you." "Well, is that so. I don't think I can work any harder than now......." "What you're doing now is enough. Only don't forget what I told you the other day." "Meaning that one who helps me find a boarding house is dangerous?" "If you state it so baldly, there is no meaning to it....... But that's all right,...... I believe you understand the spirit of my advice. And if you keep on in the way you're going to-day ...... We have not been blind ...... we might offer you a better treatment later on if we can manage it." "In salary? I don't care about the salary, though the more the better." "And fortunately there is going to be one teacher transferred,...... however, I can't guarantee, of course, until I talk it over with the principal ...... and we might give you something out of his salary." "Thank you. Who is going to be transferred?" "I think I may tell you now; 'tis going to be Announced soon. Koga is the man." "But isn't Koga-san a native of this town?" "Yes, he is. But there are some circumstances ...... and it is partly by his own preference." "Where is he going?" "To Nobeoka in Hiuga province. As the place is so far away, he is going there with his salary raised a grade higher." "Is some one coming to take his place?" "His successor is almost decided upon." "Well, that's fine, though I'm not very anxious to have my salary raised." "I'm going to talk to the principal about that anyway. And, we may have to ask you to work more some time later ...... and the principal appears to be of the same opinion....... I want you to go[I] ahead with that in your mind." "Going to increase my working hours?" "No. The working hours may be reduced......" "The working hours shortened and yet work more? Sounds funny." "It does sound funny ...... I can't say definitely just yet ...... it means that we way have to ask you to assume more responsibility." I could not make out what he meant. To assume more responsibility might mean my appointment to the senior instructor of mathematics, but Porcupine is the senior instructor and there is no danger of his resigning. Besides, he is so very popular among the students that his transfer or discharge would be inadvisable. Red Shirt always misses the point. And though he did not get to the point, the object of my visit was ended. We talked a while on sundry matters, Red Shirt proposing a farewell dinner party for Hubbard Squash, asking me if I drink liquor and praising Hubbard Squash as an amiable gentleman, etc. Finally he changed the topic and asked me if I take an interest in "haiku"[8] Here is where I beat it, I thought, and, saying "No, I don't, good by," hastily left the house. The "haiku" should be a diversion of Baseo[9] or the boss of a barbershop. It would not do for the teacher of mathematics to rave over the old wooden bucket and the morning glory.[10] [Footnote 8: The 17-syllable poem] [Footnote 9: A famous composer of the poem.] [Footnote 10: There is a well-known 17-syllable poem describing the scene of morning glories entwining around the wooden bucket.] I returned home and thought it over. Here is a man whose mental process defies a layman's understanding. He is going to court hardships in a strange part of the country in preference of his home and the school where he is working,--both of which should satisfy most anybody,--because he is tired of them. That may be all right if the strange place happens to be a lively metropolis where electric cars run,--but of all places, why Nobeoka in Hiuga province? This town here has a good steamship connection, yet I became sick of it and longed for home before one month had passed. Nobeoka is situated in the heart of a most mountainous country. According to Red Shirt, one has to make an all-day ride in a wagonette to Miyazaki, after he had left the vessel, and from Miyazaki another all-day ride in a rikisha to Nobeoka. Its name alone does not commend itself as civilized. It sounds like a town inhabited by men and monkeys in equal numbers. However sage-like Hubbard Squash might be I thought he would not become a friend of monkeys of his own choice. What a curious slant! Just then the old lady brought in my supper--"Sweet potatoes again?" I asked, and she said, "No, Sir, it is tofu to-night." They are about the same thing. "Say, I understand Koga-san is going to Nobeoka." "Isn't it too bad?" "Too bad? But it can't be helped if he goes there by his own preference." "Going there by his own preference? Who, Sir?" "Who? Why, he! Isn't Professor Koga going there by his own choice?" "That's wrong Mr. Wright, Sir." "Ha, Mr. Wright, is it? But Red Shirt told me so just now. If that's wrong Mr. Wright, then Red Shirt is blustering Mr. Bluff." "What the head-teacher says is believable, but so Koga-san does not wish to go." "Our old lady is impartial, and that is good. Well, what's the matter?" "The mother of Koga-san was here this morning, and told me all the circumstances." "Told you what circumstances?" "Since the father of Koga-san died, they have not been quite well off as we might have supposed, and the mother asked the principal if his salary could not be raised a little as Koga-san has been in service for four years. See?" "Well?" "The principal said that he would consider the matter, and she felt satisfied and expected the announcement of the increase before long. She hoped for its coming this month or next. Then the principal called Koga-san to his office one day and said that he was sorry but the school was short of money and could not raise his salary. But he said there is an opening in Nobeoka which would give him five yen extra a month and he thought that would suit his purpose, and the principal had made all arrangements and told Koga-san he had better go......." "That wasn't a friendly talk but a command. Wasn't it?" "Yes, Sir, Koga-san told the principal that he liked to stay here better at the old salary than go elsewhere on an increased salary, because he has his own house and is living with his mother. But the matter has all been settled, and his successor already appointed and it couldn't be helped, said the principal." "Hum, that's a jolly good trick, I should say. Then Koga-san has no liking to go there? No wonder I thought it strange. We would have to go a long way to find any blockhead to do a job in such a mountain village and get acquainted with monkeys for five yen extra." "What is a blockhead, Sir?" "Well, let go at that. It was all the scheme of Red Shirt. Deucedly underhand scheme, I declare. It was a stab from behind. And he means to raise my salary by that; that's not right. I wouldn't take that raise. Let's see if he can raise it." "Is your salary going to be raised, Sir?" "Yes, they said they would raise mine, but I'm thinking of refusing it." "Why do you refuse?" "Why or no why, it's going to be refused. Say, Red Shirt is a fool; he is a coward." "He may be a coward, but if he raises your salary, it would be best for you to make no fuss, but accept it. One is apt to get grouchy when young, but will always repent when he is grown up and thinks that it was pity he hadn't been a little more patient. Take an old woman's advice for once, and if Red Shirt-san says he will raise your salary, just take it with thanks." "It's none of business of you old people." The old lady withdrew in silence. The old man is heard singing "utai" in the off-key voice. "Utai," I think, is a stunt which purposely makes a whole show a hard nut to crack by giving to it difficult tunes, whereas one could better understand it by reading it. I cannot fathom what is in the mind of the old man who groans over it every night untired. But I'm not in a position to be fooling with "utai." Red Shirt said he would have my salary raised, and though I did not care much about it, I accepted it because there was no use of leaving the money lying around. But I cannot, for the love of Mike, be so inconsiderate as to skin the salary of a fellow teacher who is being transferred against his will. What in thunder do they mean by sending him away so far as Nobeoka when the fellow prefers to remain in his old position? Even Dazai-no-Gonnosutsu did not have to go farther than about Hakata; even Matagoro Kawai [11] stopped at Sagara. I shall not feel satisfied unless I see Red Shirt and tell him I refuse the raise. [Footnote 11: The persons in exile, well-known in Japanese history.] I dressed again and went to his house. The same younger brother of Red Shirt again answered the bell, and looked at me with eyes which plainly said, "You here again?" I will come twice or thrice or as many times as I want to if there is business. I might rouse them out of their beds at midnight;--it is possible, who knows. Don't mistake me for one coming to coax the head teacher. I was here to give back my salary. The younger brother said that there is a visitor just now, and I told him the front door will do; won't take more than a minute, and he went in. Looking about my feet, I found a pair of thin, matted wooden clogs, and I heard some one in the house saying, "Now we're banzai." I noticed that the visitor was Clown. Nobody but Clown could make such a squeaking voice and wear such clogs as are worn by cheap actors. After a while Red Shirt appeared at the door with a lamp in his hand, and said, "Come in; it's no other than Mr. Yoshikawa." "This is good enough," I said, "it won't take long." I looked at his face which was the color of a boiled lobster. He seemed to have been drinking with Clown. "You told me that you would raise my salary, but I've changed my mind, and have come here to decline the offer." Red Shirt, thrusting out the lamp forward, and intently staring at me, was unable to answer at the moment. He appeared blank. Did he think it strange that here was one fellow, only one in the world, who does not want his salary raised, or was he taken aback that I should come back so soon even if I wished to decline it, or was it both combined, he stood there silent with his mouth in a queer shape. "I accepted your offer because I understood that Mr. Koga was being transferred by his own preference......." "Mr. Koga is really going to be transferred by his own preference." "No, Sir. He would like to stay here. He doesn't mind his present salary if he can stay." "Have you heard it from Mr. Koga himself?" "No, not from him." "Then, from who?" "The old lady in my boarding house told me what she heard from the mother of Mr. Koga." "Then the old woman in your boarding house told you so?" "Well, that's about the size of it." "Excuse me, but I think you are wrong. According to what you say, it seems as if you believe what the old woman in the boarding house tells you, but would not believe what your head teacher tells you. Am I right to understand it that way?" I was stuck. A Bachelor of Arts is confoundedly good in oratorical combat. He gets hold of unexpected point, and pushes the other backward. My father used to tell me that I am too careless and no good, and now indeed I look that way. I ran out of the house on the moment's impulse when I heard the story from the old lady, and in fact I had not heard the story from either Hubbard Squash or his mother. In consequence, when I was challenged in this Bachelor-of-Arts fashion, it was a bit difficult to defend myself. I could not defend his frontal attack, but I had already declared in my mind a lack of confidence on Red Shirt. The old lady in the boarding house may be tight and a grabber, I do not doubt it, but she is a woman who tells no lie. She is not double faced like Red Shirt, I was helpless, so I answered. "What you say might be right,--anyway, I decline the raise." "That's still funnier. I thought your coming here now was because you had found a certain reason for which you could not accept the raise. Then it is hard to understand to see you still insisting on declining the raise in spite of the reason having been eradicated by my explanation." "It may be hard to understand, but anyway I don't want it." "If you don't like it so much, I wouldn't force it on you. But if you change your mind within two or three hours with no particular reason, it would affect your credit in future." "I don't care if it does affect it." "That can't be. Nothing is more important than credit for us. Supposing, the boss of the boarding house......." "Not the boss, but the old lady." "Makes no difference,--suppose what the old woman in the boarding house told you was true, the raise of your salary is not to be had by reducing the income of Mr. Koga, is it? Mr. Koga is going to Nobeoka; his successor is coming. He comes on a salary a little less than that of Mr. Koga, and we propose to add the surplus money to your salary, and you need not be shy. Mr. Koga will be promoted; the successor is to start on less pay, and if you could be raised, I think everything be satisfactory to all concerned. If you don't like it, that's all right, but suppose you think it over once more at home?" My brain is not of the best stuff, and if another fellow flourishes his eloquence like this, I usually think, "Well, perhaps I was wrong," and consider myself defeated, but not so to-night. From the time I came to this town I felt prejudiced against Red Shirt. Once I had thought of him in a different light, taking him for a fellow kind-hearted and feminished. His kindness, however, began to look like anything but kindness, and as a result, I have been getting sick of him. So no matter how he might glory himself in logical grandiloquence, or how he might attempt to out-talk me in a head-teacher-style, I don't care a snap. One who shines in argument is not necessarily a good fellow, while the other who is out-talked is not necessarily a bad fellow, either. Red Shirt is very, very reasonable as far as his reasoning goes, but however graceful he may appear, he cannot win my respect. If money, authority or reasoning can command admiration, loansharks, police officers or college professors should be liked best by all. I cannot be moved in the least by the logic by so insignificant a fellow as the head teacher of a middle school. Man works by preference, not by logic. "What you say is right, but I have begun to dislike the raise, so I decline. It will be the same if I think it over. Good by." And I left the house of Red Shirt. The solitary milky way hung high in the sky. CHAPTER IX. When I went to the school, in the morning of the day the farewell dinner party was to be held, Porcupine suddenly spoke to me; "The other day I asked you to quit the Ikagins because Ikagin begged of me to have you leave there as you were too tough, and I believed him. But I heard afterward that Ikagin is a crook and often passes imitation of famous drawings for originals. I think what he told me about you must be a lie. He tried to sell pictures and curios to you, but as you shook him off, he told some false stories on you. I did very wrong by you because I did not know his character, and wish you would forgive me." And he offered me a lengthy apology. Without saying a word, I took up the one sen and a half which was lying on the desk of Porcupine, and put it into my purse. He asked me in a wondering tone, if I meant to take it back. I explained, "Yes. I didn't like to have you treat me and expected to pay this back at all hazard, but as I think about it, I would rather have you treated me after all; so I'm going to take it back." Porcupine laughed heartily and asked me why I had not taken it back sooner. I told him that I wanted to more than once, in fact, but somehow felt shy and left it there. I was sick of that one sen and a half these days that I shunned the sight of it when I came to the school, I said. He said "You're a deucedly unyielding sport," and I answered "You're obstinate." Then ensued the following give-and-take between us two; "Where were you born anyway?" "I'm a Yedo kid." "Ah, a Yedo kid, eh? No wonder I thought you a pretty stiff neck." "And you?" "I'm from Aizu." "Ha, Aizu guy, eh? You've got reason to be obstinate. Going to the farewell dinner to-day?" "Sure. You?" "Of course I am. I intend to go down to the beach to see Koga-san off when he leaves." "The farewell dinner should be a big blow-out. You come and see. I'm going to get soused to the neck." "You get loaded all you want. I quit the place right after I finish my plates. Only fools fight booze." "You're a fellow who picks up a fight too easy. It shows up the characteristic of the Yedo kid well." "I don't care. Say, before you go to the farewell dinner, come to see me. I want to tell you something." Porcupine came to my room as promised. I had been in full sympathy with Hubbard Squash these days, and when it came to his farewell dinner, my pity for him welled up so much that I wished I could go to Nobeoka for him myself. I thought of making a parting address of burning eloquence at the dinner to grace the occasion, but my speech which rattles off like that of the excited spieler of New York would not become the place. I planned to take the breath out of Red Shirt by employing Porcupine who has a thunderous voice. Hence my invitation to him before we started for the party. I commenced by explaining the Madonna affair, but Porcupine, needless to say, knew more about it than I. Telling about my meeting Red Shirt on the Nozeri river, I called him a fool. Porcupine then said; "You call everybody a fool. You called me a fool to-day at the school. If I'm a fool, Red Shirt isn't," and insisted that he was not in the same group with Red Shirt. "Then Red Shirt may be a four-flusher," I said and he approved this new alias with enthusiasm. Porcupine is physically strong, but when it comes to such terms, he knows less than I do. I guess all Aizu guys are about the same. Then, when I disclosed to him about the raise of my salary and the advance hint on my promotion by Red Shirt, Porcupine pished, and said, "Then he means to discharge me." "Means to discharge you? But you mean to get discharged?" I asked. "Bet you, no. If I get fired, Red Shirt will have to go with me," he remarked with a lordly air. I insisted on knowing how he was going to get Red Shirt kicked out with him, and he answered that he had not thought so far yet. Yes, Porcupine looks strong, but seems to be possessed of no abundance of brain power. I told him about my refusal of the raise of my salary, and the Gov'nur was much pleased, praising me with the remark, "That's the stuff for Yedo kids." "If Hubbard Squash does not like to go down to Nobeoka, why didn't you do something to enable him remain here," I asked, and Porcupine said that when he heard the story from Hubbard Squash, everything had been settled already, but he had asked the principal twice and Red Shirt once to have the transfer order cancelled, but to no purpose. Porcupine bitterly condemned Hubbard Squash for being too good-natured. If Hubbard Squash, he said, had either flatly refused or delayed the answer on the pretext of considering it, when Red Shirt raised the question of transfer, it would have been better for him. But he was fooled by the oily tongue of Red Shirt, had accepted the transfer outright, and all efforts by Porcupine who was moved by the tearful appeal of the mother, proved unavailing. I said; "The transfer of Koga is nothing but a trick of Red Shirt to cop the Madonna by sending Hubbard Squash away." "Yes," said Porcupine "That must be. Red Shirt looks gentle, but plays nasty tricks. He is a sonovagun for when some one finds fault with him, he has excuses prepared already. Nothing but a sound thumping will be effective for fellows like him." He rolled up his sleeves over his plump arms as he spoke. I asked him, by the way, if he knew jiujitsu, because his arms looked powerful. Then he put force in his forearm, and told me to touch it. I felt its swelled muscle which was hard as the pumic stone in the public bathhouse. I was deeply impressed by his massive strength, and asked him if he could not knock five or six of Red Shirt in a bunch. "Of course," he said, and as he extended and bent back the arm, the lumpy muscle rolled round and round, which was very amusing. According to the statement of Porcupine himself, this muscle, if he bends the arm back with force, would snap a paper-string wound around it twice. I said I might do the same thing if it were a paper-string, and he challenged me. "No, you can't," he said. "See if you can." As it would not look well if I failed, I did not try. "Say, after you have drunk all you want to-night at the dinner, take a fall out of Red Shirt and Clown, eh?" I suggested to him for fun. Porcupine thought for a moment and said, "Not to-night, I guess." I wanted to know why, and he pointed out that it would be bad for Koga. "Besides, if I'm going to give it to them at all, I've to get them red handed in their dirty scheme, or all the blame will be on me," he added discretely. Even Porcupine seems to have wiser judgment than I. "Then make a speech and praise Mr. Koga sky-high. My speech becomes sort of jumpy, wanting dignity. And at any formal gathering, I get lumpy in my throat, and can't speak. So I leave it to you," I said. "That's a strange disease. Then you can't speak in the presence of other people? It would be awkward, I suppose," he said, and I told him not quite as much awkward as he might think. About then, the time for the farewell dinner party arrived, and I went to the hall with Porcupine. The dinner party was to be held at Kashin-tei which is said to be the leading restaurant in the town, but I had never been in the house before. This restaurant, I understood, was formerly the private residence of the chief retainer of the daimyo of the province, and its condition seemed to confirm the story. The residence of a chief retainer transformed into a restaurant was like making a saucepan out of warrior's armor. When we two came there, about all of the guests were present. They formed two or three groups in the spacious room of fifty mats. The alcove in this room, in harmony with its magnificence, was very large. The alcove in the fifteen-mat room which I occupied at Yamashiro-ya made a small showing beside it. I measured it and found it was twelve feet wide. On the right, in the alcove, there was a seto-ware flower vase, painted with red designs, in which was a large branch of pine tree. Why the pine twigs, I did not know, except that they are in no danger of withering for many a month to come, and are economical. I asked the teacher of natural history where that seto-ware flower vase is made. He told me it was not a seto-ware but an imari. Isn't imari seto-ware? I wondered audibly, and the natural history man laughed. I heard afterward that we call it a seto-ware because it is made in Seto. I'm a Yedo kid, and thought all china was seto-wares. In the center of the alcove was hung a panel on which were written twenty eight letters, each letter as large as my face. It was poorly written; so poorly indeed that I enquired of the teacher of Confucius why such a poor work be hung in apparent show of pride. He explained that it was written by Kaioku a famous artist in the writing, but Kaioku or anyone else, I still declare the work poorly done. By and by, Kawamura, the clerk, requested all to be seated. I chose one in front of a pillar so I could lean against it. Badger sat in front of the panel of Kaioku in Japanese full dress. On his left sat Red Shirt similarly dressed, and on his right Hubbard Squash, as the guest of honor, in the same kind of dress. I was dressed in a European suit, and being unable to sit down, squatted on my legs at once. The teacher of physical culture next to me, though in the same kind of rags as mine, sat squarely in Japanese fashion. As a teacher of his line he appeared to have well trained himself. Then the dinner trays were served and the bottles placed beside them. The manager of the day stood up and made a brief opening address. He was followed by Badger and Red Shirt. These two made farewell addresses, and dwelt at length on Hubbard Squash being an ideal teacher and gentleman, expressing their regret, saying his departure was a great loss not only to the school but to them in person. They concluded that it could not be helped, however, since the transfer was due to his own earnest desire and for his own convenience. They appeared to be ashamed not in the least by telling such a lie at a farewell dinner. Particularly, Red Shirt, of these three, praised Hubard Squash in lavish terms. He went so far as to declare that to lose this true friend was a great personal loss to him. Moreover, his tone was so impressive in its same old gentle tone that one who listens to him for the first time would be sure to be misled. Probably he won the Madonna by this same trick. While Red Shirt was uttering his farewell buncomb, Porcupine who sat on the other side across me, winked at me. As an answer of this, I "snooked" at him. No sooner had Red Shirt sat down than Porcupine stood up, and highly rejoiced, I clapped hands. At this Badger and others glanced at me, and I felt that I blushed a little. "Our principal and other gentlemen," he said, "particularly the head teacher, expressed their sincere regret at Mr. Koga's transfer. I am of a different opinion, and hope to see him leave the town at the earliest possible moment. Nobeoka is an out-of-the-way, backwoods town, and compared with this town, it may have more material inconveniences, but according to what I have heard, Nobeoka is said to be a town where the customs are simple and untainted, and the teachers and students still strong in the straightforward characteristics of old days. I am convinced that in Nobeoka there is not a single high-collared guy who passes round threadbare remarks, or who with smooth face, entraps innocent people. I am sure that a man like Mr. Koga, gentle and honest, will surely be received with an enthusiastic welcome there. I heartily welcome this transfer for the sake of Mr. Koga. In concluding, I hope that when he is settled down at Nobeoka, he will find a lady qualified to become his wife, and form a sweet home at an early date and incidentally let the inconstant, unchaste sassy old wench die ashamed ...... a'hum, a'hum!" He coughed twice significantly and sat down. I thought of clapping my hands again, but as it would draw attention, I refrained. When Porcupine finished his speech, Hubbard Squash arose politely, slipped out of his seat, went to the furthest end of the room, and having bowed to all in a most respectful manner, acknowledged the compliments in the following way; "On the occasion of my going to Kyushu for my personal convenience, I am deeply impressed and appreciate the way my friends have honored me with this magnificent dinner....... The farewell addresses by our principal and other gentlemen will be long held in my fondest recollection....... I am going far away now, but I hope my name be included in the future as in the past in the list of friends of the gentlemen here to-night." Then again bowing, he returned to his seat. There was no telling how far the "good-naturedness" of Hubbard Squash might go. He had respectfully thanked the principal and the head teacher who had been fooling him. And it was not a formal, cut-and-dried reply he made, either; by his manner, tone and face, he appeared to have been really grateful from his heart. Badger and Red Shirt should have blushed when they were addressed so seriously by so good a man as Hubbard Squash, but they only listened with long faces. After the exchange of addresses, a sizzling sound was heard here and there, and I too tried the soup which tasted like anything but soup. There was kamaboko in the kuchitori dish, but instead of being snow white as it should be, it looked grayish, and was more like a poorly cooked chikuwa. The sliced tunny was there, but not having been sliced fine, passed the throat like so many pieces of chopped raw tunny. Those around me, however, ate with ravenous appetite. They have not tasted, I guess, the real Yedo dinner. Meanwhile the bottles began passing round, and all became more or less "jacked up." Clown proceeded to the front of the principal and submissively drank to his health. A beastly fellow, this! Hubbard Squash made a round of all the guests, drinking to their health. A very onerous job, indeed. When he came to me and proposed my health, I abandoned the squatting posture and sat up straight. "Too bad to see you go away so soon. When are you going? I want to see you off at the beach," I said. "Thank you, Sir. But never mind that. You're busy," he declined. He might decline, but I was determined to get excused for the day and give him a rousing send-off. Within about an hour from this, the room became pretty lively. "Hey, have another, hic; ain't goin', hic, have one on me?" One or two already in a pickled state appeared on the scene. I was little tired, and going out to the porch, was looking at the old fashioned garden by the dim star light, when Porcupine came. "How did you like my speech? Wasn't it grand, though!" he remarked in a highly elated tone. I protested that while I approved 99 per cent, of his speech, there was one per cent, that I did not. "What's that one per cent?" he asked. "Well, you said,...... there is not a single high-collared guy who with smooth face entraps innocent people......." "Yes." "A 'high-collared guy' isn't enough." "Then what should I say?" "Better say,--'a high-collared guy; swindler, bastard, super-swanker, doubleface, bluffer, totempole, spotter, who looks like a dog as he yelps.'" "I can't get my tongue to move so fast. You're eloquent. In the first place, you know a great many simple words. Strange that you can't make a speech." "I reserve these words for use when I chew the rag. If it comes to speech-making, they don't come out so smoothly." "Is that so? But they simply come a-running. Repeat that again for me." "As many times as you like. Listen,--a high-collared guy, swindler, bastard, super-swanker ..." While I was repeating this, two shaky fellows came out of the room hammering the floor. "Hey, you two gents, if won't do to run away. Won't let you off while I'm here. Come and have a drink. Bastard? That's fine. Bastardly fine. Now, come on." And they pulled Porcupine and me away. These two fellows really had come to the lavatory, but soaked as they were, in booze bubbles, they apparently forgot to proceed to their original destination, and were pulling us hard. All booze fighters seem to be attracted by whatever comes directly under their eyes for the moment and forget what they had been proposing to do. "Say, fellows, we've got bastards. Make them drink. Get them loaded. You gents got to stay here." And they pushed me who never attempted to escape against the wall. Surveying the scene, I found there was no dish in which any edibles were left. Some one had eaten all his share, and gone on a foraging expedition. The principal was not there,--I did not know when he left. At that time, preceded by a coquetish voice, three or four geishas entered the room. I was a bit surprised, but having been pushed against the wall, I had to look on quietly. At the instant, Red Shirt who had been leaning against a pillar with the same old amber pipe stuck into his mouth with some pride, suddenly got up and started to leave the room. One of the geishas who was advancing toward him smiled and courtesied at him as she passed by him. The geisha was the youngest and prettiest of the bunch. They were some distance away from me and I could not see very well, but it seemed that she might have said "Good evening." Red Shirt brushed past as if unconscious, and never showed again. Probably he followed the principal. The sight of the geishas set the room immediately in a buzz and it became noisy as they all raised howls of welcome. Some started the game of "nanko" with a force that beat the sword-drawing practice. Others began playing morra, and the way they shook their hands, intently absorbed in the game, was a better spectacle than a puppet show. One in the corner was calling "Hey, serve me here," but shaking the bottle, corrected it to "Hey, fetch me more sake." The whole room became so infernally noisy that I could scarcely stand it. Amid this orgy, one, like a fish out of water, sat down with his head bowed. It was Hubbard Squash. The reason they have held this farewell dinner party was not in order to bid him a farewell, but because they wanted to have a jolly good time for themselves with John Barleycorn. He had come to suffer only. Such a dinner party would have been better had it not been started at all. After a while, they began singing ditties in outlandish voices. One of the geishas came in front of me, and taking up a samisen, asked me to sing something. I told her I didn't sing, but I'd like to hear, and she droned out: "If one can go round and meet the one he wants, banging gongs and drums ...... bang, bang, bang, bang, bing, shouting after wandering Santaro, there is some one I'd like to meet by banging round gongs and drums ...... bang, bang, bang, bang, b-i-n-g." She dashed this off in two breaths, and sighed, "O, dear!" She should have sung something easier. Clown who had come near us meanwhile, remarked in his flippant tone: "Hello, dear Miss Su-chan, too bad to see your beau go away so soon." The geisha pouted, "I don't know." Clown, regardless, began imitating "gidayu" with a dismal voice,--"What a luck, when she met her sweet heart by a rare chance...." The geisha slapped the lap of Clown with a "Cut that out," and Clown gleefully laughed. This geisha is the one who made goo-goo eyes[J] at Red Shirt. What a simpleton, to be pleased by the slap of a geisha, this Clown. He said: "Say, Su-chan, strike up the string. I'm going to dance the Kiino-kuni." He seemed yet to dance. On other side of the room, the old man of Confucius, twisting round his toothless mouth, had finished as far as "...... dear Dembei-san" and is asking a geisha who sat in front of him to couch him for the rest. Old people seem to need polishing up their memorizing system. One geisha is talking to the teacher of natural history: "Here's the latest. I'll sing it. Just listen. 'Margaret, the high-collared head with a white ribbon; she rides on a bike, plays a violin, and talks in broken English,--I am glad to see you.'" Natural history appears impressed, and says; "That's an interesting piece. English in it too." Porcupine called "geisha, geisha," in a loud voice, and commanded; "Bang your samisen; I'm going to dance a sword-dance." His manner was so rough that the geishas were startled and did not answer. Porcupine, unconcerned, brought out a cane, and began performing the sword-dance in the center of the room. Then Clown, having danced the Kii-no-kuni, the Kap-pore[K] and the Durhma-san on the Shelf, almost stark-naked, with a palm-fibre broom, began turkey-trotting about the room, shouting "The Sino-Japanese negotiations came to a break......." The whole was a crazy sight. I had been feeling sorry for Hubbard Squash, who up to this time had sat up straight in his full dress. Even were this a farewell dinner held in his honor, I thought he was under no obligation to look patiently in a formal dress at the naked dance. So I went to him and persuaded him with "Say, Koga-san, let's go home." Hubbard Squash said the dinner was in his honor, and it would be improper for him to leave the room before the guests. He seemed to be determined to remain. "What do you care!" I said, "If this is a farewell dinner, make it like one. Look at those fellows; they're just like the inmates of a lunatic asylum. Let's go." And having forced hesitating Hubbard Squash to his feet, we were just leaving the room, when Clown, marching past, brandishing the broom, saw us. "This won't do for the guest of honor to leave before us," he hollered, "this is the Sino-Japanese negotiations. Can't let you off." He enforced his declaration by holding the broom across our way. My temper had been pretty well aroused for some time, and I felt impatient. "The Sino-Japanese negotiation, eh? Then you're a Chink," and I whacked his head with a knotty fist. This sudden blow left Clown staring blankly speechless for a second or two; then he stammered out: "This is going some! Mighty pity to knock my head. What a blow on this Yoshikawa! This makes the Sino-Japanese negotiations the sure stuff." While Clown was mumbling these incoherent remarks, Porcupine, believing some kind of row had been started, ceased his sword-dance and came running toward us. On seeing us, he grabbed the neck of Clown and pulled him back. "The Sino-Japane......ouch!......ouch! This is outrageous," and Clown writhed under the grip of Porcupine who twisted him sideways and threw him down on the floor with a bang. I do not know the rest. I parted from Hubbard Squash on the way, and it was past eleven when I returned home. CHAPTER X. The town is going to celebrate a Japanese victory to-day, and there is no school. The celebration is to be held at the parade ground, and Badger is to take out all the students and attend the ceremony. As one of the instructors, I am to go with them. The streets are everywhere draped with flapping national flags almost enough to dazzle the eyes. There were as many as eight hundred students in all, and it was arranged, under the direction of the teacher of physical culture to divide them into sections with one teacher or two to lead them. The arrangement itself was quite commendable, but in its actual operation the whole thing went wrong. All students are mere kiddies who, ever too fresh, regard it as beneath their dignity not to break all regulations. This rendered the provision of teachers among them practically useless. They would start marching songs without being told to, and if they ceased the marching songs, they would raise devilish shouts without cause. Their behavior would have done credit to the gang of tramps parading the streets demanding work. When they neither sing nor shout, they tee-hee and giggle. Why they cannot walk without these disorder, passes my understanding, but all Japanese are born with their mouths stuck out, and no kick will ever be strong enough to stop it. Their chatter is not only of simple nature, but about the teachers when their back is turned. What a degraded bunch! I made the students apologize to me on the dormitory affair, and considered the incident closed. But I was mistaken. To borrow the words of the old lady in the boarding house, I was surely wrong Mr. Wright. The apology they offered was not prompted by repentance in their hearts. They had kowtowed as a matter of form by the command of the principal. Like the tradespeople who bow their heads low but never give up cheating the public, the students apologize but never stop their mischiefs. Society is made up, I think it probable, of people just like those students. One may be branded foolishly honest if he takes seriously the apologies others might offer. We should regard all apologies a sham and forgiving also as a sham; then everything would be all right. If one wants to make another apologize from his heart, he has to pound him good and strong until he begs for mercy from his heart. As I walked along between the sections, I could hear constantly the voices mentioning "tempura" or "dango." And as there were so many of them, I could not tell which one mentioned it. Even if I succeeded in collaring the guilty one I was sure of his saying, "No, I didn't mean you in saying tempura or dango. I fear you suffer from nervousness and make wrong inferences." This dastardly spirit has been fostered from the time of the feudal lords, and is deep-rooted. No amount of teaching or lecturing will cure it. If I stay in a town like this for one year or so, I may be compelled to follow their example, who knows,--clean and honest though I have been. I do not propose to make a fool of myself by remaining quiet when others attempt to play games on me, with all their excuses ready-made. They are men and so am I--students or kiddies or whatever they may be. They are bigger than I, and unless I get even with them by punishment, I would cut a sorry figure. But in the attempt to get even, if I resort to ordinary means, they are sure to make it a boomerang. If I tell them, "You're wrong," they will start an eloquent defence, because they are never short of the means of sidestepping. Having defended themselves, and made themselves appear suffering martyrs, they would begin attacking me. As the incident would have been started by my attempting to get even with them, my defence would not be a defence until I can prove their wrong. So the quarrel, which they had started, might be mistaken, after all, as one begun by me. But the more I keep silent the more they would become insolent, which, speaking seriously, could not be permitted for the sake of public morale. In consequence, I am obliged to adopt an identical policy so they cannot catch men in playing it back on them. If the situation comes to that, it would be the last day of the Yedo kid. Even so, if I am to be subjected to these pin-pricking[L] tricks, I am a man and got to risk losing off the last remnant of the honor of the Yedo kid. I became more convinced of the advisability of returning to Tokyo quickly and living with Kiyo. To live long in such a countrytown would be like degrading myself for a purpose. Newspaper delivering would be preferable to being degraded so far as that. I walked along with a sinking heart, thinking like this, when the head of our procession became suddenly noisy, and the whole came to a full stop. I thought something has happened, stepped to the right out of the ranks, and looked toward the direction of the noise. There on the corner of Otemachi, turning to Yakushimachi, I saw a mass packed full like canned sardines, alternately pushing back and forth. The teacher of physical culture came down the line hoarsely shouting to all to be quiet. I asked him what was the matter, and he said the middle school and the normal had come to a clash at the corner. The middle school and the normal, I understood, are as much friendly as dogs and monkeys. It is not explained why but their temper was hopelessly crossed, and each would try to knock the chip off the shoulder of the other on all occasions. I presume they quarrel so much because life gets monotonous in this backwoods town. I am fond of fighting, and hearing of the clash, darted forward to make the most of the fun. Those foremost in the line are jeering, "Get out of the way, you country tax!"[12] while those in the rear are hollowing "Push them out!" I passed through the students, and was nearing the corner, when I heard a sharp command of "Forward!" and the line of the normal school began marching on. The clash which had resulted from contending for the right of way was settled, but it was settled by the middle school giving way to the normal. From the point of school-standing the normal is said to rank above the middle. [Footnote 12: The normal school in the province maintains the students mostly on the advance-expense system, supported by the country tax.] The ceremony was quite simple. The commander of the local brigade read a congratulatory address, and so did the governor, and the audience shouted banzais. That was all. The entertainments were scheduled for the afternoon, and I returned home once and started writing to Kiyo an answer which had been in my mind for some days. Her request had been that I should write her a letter with more detailed news; so I must get it done with care. But as I took up the rolled letter-paper, I did not know with what I should begin, though I have many things to write about. Should I begin with that? That is too much trouble. Or with this? It is not interesting. Isn't there something which will come out smoothly, I reflected, without taxing my head too much, and which will interest Kiyo. There seemed, however, no such item as I wanted I grated the ink-cake, wetted the writing brush, stared at the letter-paper--stared at the letter-paper, wetted the writing brush, grated the ink-cake--and, having repeated the same thing several times, I gave up the letter writing as not in my line, and covered the lid of the stationery box. To write a letter was a bother. It would be much simpler to go back to Tokyo and see Kiyo. Not that I am unconcerned about the anxiety of Kiyo, but to get up a letter to please the fancy of Kiyo is a harder job than to fast for three weeks. I threw down the brush and letter-paper, and lying down with my bent arms as a pillow, gazed at the garden. But the thought of the letter to Kiyo would come back in my mind. Then I thought this way; If I am thinking of her from my heart, even at such a distance, my sincerity would find responsive appreciation in Kiyo. If it does find response, there is no need of sending letters. She will regard the absence of letters from me as a sign of my being in good health. If I write in case of illness or when something unusual happens, that will be sufficient. The garden is about thirty feet square, with no particular plants worthy of name. There is one orange tree which is so tall as to be seen above the board fence from outside. Whenever I returned from the school I used to look at this orange tree. For to those who had not been outside of Tokyo, oranges on the tree are rather a novel sight. Those oranges now green will ripen by degrees and turn to yellow, when the tree would surely be beautiful. There are some already ripened. The old lady told me that they are juicy, sweet oranges. "They will all soon be ripe, and then help yourself to all you want," she said. I think I will enjoy a few every day. They will be just right in about three weeks. I do not think I will have to leave the town in so short a time as three weeks. While my attention was centered on the oranges, Porcupine[M] came in. "Say, to-day being the celebration[N] of victory, I thought I would get something good to eat with you, and bought some beef." So saying, he took out a package covered with a bamboo-wrapper, and threw it down in the center of the room. I had been denied the pleasure of patronizing the noodle house or dango shop, on top of getting sick of the sweet potatoes and tofu, and I welcomed the suggestion with "That's fine," and began cooking it with a frying pan and some sugar borrowed from the old lady. Porcupine, munching the beef to the full capacity of his mouth, asked me if I knew Red Shirt having a favorite geisha. I asked if that was not one of the geishas who came to our dinner the other night, and he answered, "Yes, I got the wind of the fact only recently; you're sharp." "Red Shirt always speaks of refinement of character or of mental consolation, but he is making a fool of himself by chasing round a geisha. What a dandy rogue. We might let that go if he wouldn't make fuss about others making fools of themselves. I understand through the principal he stopped your going even to noodle houses or dango shops as unbecoming to the dignity of the school, didn't he?" "According to his idea, running after a geisha is a mental consolation but tempura or dango is a material pleasure, I guess. If that's mental consolation, why doesn't the fool do it above board? You ought to see the jacknape skipping out of the room when the geisha came into it the other night,--I don't like his trying to deceive us, but if one were to point it out for him, he would deny it or say it was the Russian literature or that the haiku is a half-brother of the new poetry, and expect to hush it up by twaddling soft nonsense. A weak-knee like him is not a man. I believe he lived the life of a court-maid in former life. Perhaps his daddy might have been a kagema at Yushima in old days." "What is a kagema?" "I suppose something very unmanly,--sort of emasculated chaps. Say, that part isn't cooked enough. It might give you tape worm." "So? I think it's all right. And, say, Red Shirt is said to frequent Kadoya at the springs town and meet his geisha there, but he keeps it in dark." "Kadoya? That hotel?" "Also a restaurant. So we've got to catch him there with his geisha and make it hot for him right to his face." "Catch him there? Suppose we begin a kind of night watch?" "Yes, you know there is a rooming house called Masuya in front of Kadoya. We'll rent one room upstairs of the house, and keep peeping through a loophole we could make in the shoji." "Will he come when we keep peeping at him?" "He may. We will have to do it more than one night. Must expect to keep it up for at least two weeks." "Say, that would make one pretty well tired, I tell you. I sat up every night for about one week attending my father when he died, and it left me thoroughly down and out for some time afterward." "I don't care if I do get tired some. A crook like Red Shirt should not go unpunished that way for the honor of Japan, and I am going to administer a chastisement in behalf of heaven." "Hooray! If things are decided upon that way, I am game. And we are going to start from to-night?" "I haven't rented a room at Masuya yet, so can't start it to-night." "Then when?" "Will start before long. I'll let you know, and want you help me." "Right-O. I will help you any time. I am not much myself at scheming, but I am IT when it comes to fighting." While Porcupine and I were discussing the plan of subjugating Red Shirt, the old lady appeared at the door, announcing that a student was wanting to see Professor Hotta. The student had gone to his house, but seeing him out, had come here as probable to find him. Porcupine went to the front door himself, and returning to the room after a while, said: "Say, the boy came to invite us to go and see the entertainment of the celebration. He says there is a big bunch of dancers from Kochi to dance something, and it would be a long time before we could see the like of it again. Let's go." Porcupine seemed enthusiastic over the prospect of seeing that dance, and induced me to go with him. I have seen many kinds of dance in Tokyo. At the annual festival of the Hachiman Shrine, moving stages come around the district, and I have seen the Shiokukmi and almost any other variety. I was little inclined to see that dance by the sturdy fellows from Tosa province, but as Porcupine was so insistent, I changed my mind and followed him out. I did not know the student who came to invite Porcupine, but found he was the younger brother of Red Shirt. Of all students, what a strange choice for a messenger! The celebration ground was decorated, like the wrestling amphitheater at Ryogoku during the season, or the annual festivity of the Hommonji temple, with long banners planted here and there, and on the ropes that crossed and recrossed in the mid-air were strung the colors of all nations, as if they were borrowed from as many nations for the occasion and the large roof presented unusually cheerful aspect. On the eastern corner there was built a temporary stage upon which the dance of Koehi was to be performed. For about half a block, with the stage on the right, there was a display of flowers and plant settings arranged on shelves sheltered with reed screens. Everybody was looking at the display seemingly much impressed, but it failed to impress me. If twisted grasses or bamboos afforded so much pleasure, the gallantry of a hunchback or the husband of a wrong pair should give as much pleasure to their eyes. In the opposite direction, aerial bombs and fire works were steadily going on. A balloon shot out on which was written "Long Live the Empire!" It floated leisurely over the pine trees near the castle tower, and fell down inside the compound of the barracks. Bang! A black ball shot up against the serene autumn sky; burst open straight above my head, streams of luminous green smoke ran down in an umbrella-shape, and finally faded. Then another balloon. It was red with "Long Live the Army and Navy" in white. The wind slowly carried it from the town toward the Aioi village. Probably it would fall into the yard of Kwanon temple there. At the formal celebration this morning there were not quite so many as here now. It was surging mass that made me wonder how so many people lived in the place. There were not many attractive faces among the crowd, but as far as the numerical strength went, it was a formidable one. In the meantime that dance had begun. I took it for granted that since they call it a dance, it would be something similar to the kind of dance by the Fujita troupe, but I was greatly mistaken. Thirty fellows, dressed up in a martial style, in three rows of ten each, stood with glittering drawn swords. The sight was an eye-opener, indeed. The space between the rows measured about two feet, and that between the men might have been even less. One stood apart from the group. He was similarly dressed but instead of a drawn sword, he carried a drum hung about his chest. This fellow drawled out signals the tone of which suggested a mighty easy-life, and then croaking a strange song, he would strike the drum. The tune was outlandishly unfamiliar. One might form the idea by thinking it a combination of the Mikawa Banzai and the Fudarakuya. The song was drowsy, and like syrup in summer is dangling and slovenly. He struck the drum to make stops at certain intervals. The tune was kept with regular rhythmical order, though it appeared to have neither head nor tail. In response to this tune, the thirty drawn swords flash, with such dexterity and speed that the sight made the spectator almost shudder. With live men within two feet of their position, the sharp drawn blades, each flashing them in the same manner, they looked as if they might make a bloody mess unless they were perfectly accurate in their movements. If it had been brandishing swords alone without moving themselves, the chances of getting slashed or cut might have been less, but sometimes they would turn sideways together, or clear around, or bend their knees. Just one second's difference in the movement, either too quick or too late, on the part of the next fellow, might have meant sloughing off a nose or slicing off the head of the next fellow. The drawn swords moved in perfect freedom, but the sphere of action was limited to about two feet square, and to cap it all, each had to keep moving with those in front and back, at right and left, in the same direction at the same speed. This beats me! The dance of the Shiokumi or the Sekinoto would make no show compared with this! I heard them say the dance requires much training, and it could not be an easy matter to make so many dancers move in a unison like this. Particularly difficult part in the dance was that of the fellow with drum stuck to his chest. The movement of feet, action of hands, or bending of knees of those thirty fellows were entirely directed by the tune with which he kept them going. To the spectators this fellow's part appeared the easiest. He sang in a lazy tune, but it was strange that he was the fellow who takes the heaviest responsibility. While Porcupine and I, deeply impressed, were looking at the dance with absorbing interest, a sudden hue and cry was raised about half a block off. A commotion was started among those who had been quietly enjoying the sights and all ran pell-mell in every direction. Some one was heard saying "fight!" Then the younger brother of Red Shirt came running forward through the crowd. "Please, Sir," he panted, "a row again! The middles are going to get even with the normals and have just begun fighting. Come quick, Sir!" And he melted somewhere into the crowd. "What troublesome brats! So they're at it again, eh? Why can't they stop it!" Porcupine, as he spoke, dashed forward, dodging among the running crowd. He meant, I think, to stop the fight, because he could not be an idle spectator once he was informed of the fact. I of course had no intention of turning tail, and hastened on the heels of Porcupine. The fight was in its fiercest. There were about fifty to sixty normals, and the middles numbered by some ninety. The normals wore uniform, but the middles had discarded their uniform and put on Japanese civilian clothes, which made the distinction between the two hostile camps easy. But they were so mixed up, and wrangling with such violence, that we did not know how and where we could separate them. Porcupine, apparently at a loss what to do, looked at the wild scene awhile, then turned to me, saying: "Let's jump in and separate them. It will be hell if cops get on them." I did not answer, but rushed to the spot where the scuffle appeared most violent. "Stop there! Cut this out! You're ruining the name of the school! Stop this, dash you!" Shouting at the top of my voice, I attempted to penetrate the line which seemed to separate the hostile sides, but this attempt did not succeed. When about ten feet into the turmoil, I could neither advance nor retreat. Right in my front, a comparatively large normal was grappling with a middle about sixteen years of ago. "Stop that!" I grabbed the shoulder of the normal and tried to force them apart when some one whacked my feet. On this sudden attack, I let go the normal and fell down sideways. Some one stepped on my back with heavy shoes. With both hands and knees upon the ground, I jumped up and the fellow on my back rolled off to my right. I got up, and saw the big body of Porcupine about twenty feet away, sandwiched between the students, being pushed back and forth, shouting, "Stop the fight! Stop that!" "Say, we can't do anything!" I hollered at him, but unable to hear, I think, he did not answer. A pebble-stone whiffled through the air and hit squarely on my cheek bone; the same moment some one banged my back with a heavy stick from behind. "Profs mixing in!" "Knock them down!" was shouted. "Two of them; big one and small. Throw stones at them!" Another shout. "Drat you fresh jackanapes!" I cried as I wallopped the head of a normal nearby. Another stone grazed my head, and passed behind me. I did not know what had become of Porcupine, I could not find him. Well, I could not help it but jumped into the teapot to stop the tempest. I wasn't[O] a Hottentot to skulk away on being shot at with pebble-stones. What did they think I was anyway! I've been through all kinds of fighting in Tokyo, and can take in all fights one may care to give me. I slugged, jabbed and banged the stuffing out of the fellow nearest to me. Then some one cried, "Cops! Cops! Cheese it! Beat it!" At that moment, as if wading through a pond of molasses, I could hardly move, but the next I felt suddenly released and both sides scampered off simultaneously. Even the country fellows do creditable work when it comes to retreating, more masterly than General Kuropatkin, I might say. I searched for Porcupine who, I found his overgown torn to shreds, was wiping his nose. He bled considerably, and his nose having swollen was a sight. My clothes were pretty well massed with dirt, but I had not suffered quite as much damage as Porcupine. I felt pain in my cheek and as Porcupine said, it bled some. About sixteen police officers arrived at the scene but, all the students having beat it in opposite directions, all they were able to catch were Porcupine and me. We gave them our names and explained the whole story. The officers requested us to follow them to the police station which we did, and after stating to the chief of police what had happened, we returned home. CHAPTER XI. The next morning on awakening I felt pains all over my body, due, I thought, to having had no fight for a long time. This is not creditable to my fame as regards fighting, so I thought while in bed, when the old lady brought me a copy of the Shikoku Shimbun. I felt so weak as to need some effort even reaching for the paper. But what should be man so easily upset by such a trifling affair,--so I forced myself to turn in bed, and, opening its second page, I was surprised. There was the whole story of the fight of yesterday in print. Not that I was surprised by the news of the fight having been published, but it said that one teacher Hotta of the Middle School and one certain saucy Somebody, recently from Tokyo, of the same institution, not only started this trouble by inciting the students, but were actually present at the scene of the trouble, directing the students and engaged themselves against the students of the Normal School. On top of this, something of the following effect was added. "The Middle School in this prefecture has been an object of admiration by all other schools for its good and ideal behavior. But since this long-cherished honor has been sullied by these two irresponsible persons, and this city made to suffer the consequent indignity, we have to bring the perpetrators to full account. We trust that before we take any step in this matter, the authorities will have those 'toughs' properly punished, barring them forever from our educational circles." All the types were italicized, as if they meant to administer typographical chastisement upon us. "What the devil do I care!" I shouted, and up I jumped out of bed. Strange to say, the pain in my joints became tolerable. I rolled up the newspaper and threw it into the garden. Not satisfied, I took that paper to the cesspool and dumped it there. Newspapers tell such reckless lies. There is nothing so adept, I believe, as the newspaper in circulating lies. It has said what I should have said. And what does it mean by "one saucy Somebody who is recently from Tokyo?" Is there any one in this wide world with the name of Somebody? Don't forget, I have a family and personal name of my own which I am proud of. If they want to look at my family-record, they will bow before every one of my ancestors from Mitsunaka Tada down. Having washed my face, my cheek began suddenly smarting. I asked the old lady for a mirror, and she asked if I had read the paper of this morning. "Yes," I said, "and dumped it in the cesspool; go and pick it up if you want it,"--and she withdrew with a startled look. Looking in the mirror, I saw bruises on my cheek. Mine is a precious face to me. I get my face bruised, and am called a saucy Somebody as if I were nobody. That is enough. It will be a reflection on my honor to the end of my days if it is said that I shunned the public gaze and kept out of the school on account of the write-up in the paper. So, after the breakfast, I attended the school ahead of all. One after the other, all coming to the school would grin at my face. What is there to laugh about! This face is my own, gotten up, I am sure, without the least obligation on their part. By and by, Clown appeared. "Ha, heroic action yesterday. Wounds of honor, eh?" He made this sarcastic remark, I suppose, in revenge for the knock he received on his head from me at the farewell dinner. "Cut out nonsense; you get back there and suck your old drawing brushes!" Then he answered "that was going some," and enquired if it pained much? "Pain or no pain, this is my face. That's none of your business," I snapped back in a furious temper. Then Clown took his seat on the other side, and still keeping his eye on me, whispered and laughed with the teacher of history next to him. Then came Porcupine. His nose had swollen and was purple,--it was a tempting object for a surgeon's knife. His face showed far worse (is it my conceit that make this comparison?) than mine. I and Porcupine are chums with desks next to each other, and moreover, as ill-luck would have it, the desks are placed right facing the door. Thus were two strange faces placed together. The other fellows, when in want of something to divert them, would gaze our way with regularity. They say "too bad," but they are surely laughing in their minds as "ha, these fools!" If that is not so, there is no reason for their whispering together and grinning like that. In the class room, the boys clapped their hands when I entered; two or three of them banzaied. I could not tell whether it was an enthusiastic approval or open insult. While I and Porcupine were thus being made the cynosures of the whole school, Red Shirt came to me as usual. "Too bad, my friend; I am very sorry indeed for you gentlemen," he said in a semi-apologetic manner. "I've talked with the principal in regard to the story in the paper, and have arranged to demand that the paper retract the report, so you needn't worry on that score. You were plunged into the trouble because my brother invited Mr. Hotta, and I don't know how I can apologize you! I'm going to do my level best in this matter; you gentlemen please depend on that." At the third hour recess the principal came out of his room, and seemed more or less perturbed, saying, "The paper made a bad mess of it, didn't it? I hope the matter will not become serious." As to anxiety, I have none. If they propose to relieve me, I intend to tender my resignation before I get fired,--that's all. However, if I resign with no fault on my part, I would be simply giving the paper advantage. I thought it proper to make the paper take back what it had said, and stick to my position. I was going to the newspaper office to give them a piece of my mind on my way back but having been told that the school had already taken steps to have the story retracted, I did not. Porcupine and I saw the principal and Red Shirt at a convenient hour, giving them a faithful version of the incident. The principal and Red Shirt agreed that the incident must have been as we said and that the paper bore some grudge against the school and purposely published such a story. Red Shirt made a round of personal visits on each teacher in the room, defending and explaining our action in the affair. Particularly he dwelt upon the fact that his brother invited Porcupine and it was his fault. All teachers denounced the paper as infamous and agreed that we two deserved sympathy. On our way home, Porcupine warned me that Red Shirt smelt suspicious, and we would be done unless we looked out. I said he had been smelling some anyway,--it was not necessarily so just from to-day. Then he said that it was his trick to have us invited and mixed in the fight yesterday,--"Aren't you on to that yet?" Well, I was not. Porcupine was quite a Grobian but he was endowed, I was impressed, with a better brain than I. "He made us mix into the trouble, and slipped behind and contrived to have the paper publish the story. What a devil!" "Even the newspaper in the band wagon of Red Shirt? That surprises me. But would the paper listen to Red Shirt so easily?" "Wouldn't it, though. Darn easy thing if one has friends in the paper."[P] "Has he any?" "Suppose he hasn't, still that's easy. Just tell lies and say such and such are facts, and the paper will take it up." "A startling revelation, this. If that was really a trick of Red Shirt, we're likely to be discharged on account of this affair." "Quite likely we may be discharged." "Then I'll tender my resignation tomorrow, and back to Tokyo I go. I am sick of staying in such a wretched hole." "Your resignation wouldn't make Red Shirt squeal." "That's so. How can he be made to squeal?" "A wily guy like him always plots not to leave any trace behind, and it would be difficult to follow his track." "What a bore! Then we have to stand in a false light, eh? Damn it! I call all kinds of god to witness if this is just and right!" "Let's wait for two or three days and see how it turns out. And if we can't do anything else, we will have to catch him at the hot springs town." "Leaving this fight affair a separate case?" "Yes. We'll have to his hit weak spot with our own weapon." "That may be good. I haven't much to say in planning it out; I leave it to you and will do anything at your bidding." I parted from Porcupine then. If Red Shirt was really instrumental in bringing us two into the trouble as Porcupine supposed, he certainly deserves to be called down. Red Shirt outranks us in brainy work. And there is no other course open but to appeal to physical force. No wonder we never see the end of war in the world. Among individuals, it is, after all, the question of superiority of the fist. Next day I impatiently glanced over the paper, the arrival of which I had been waiting with eagerness, but not a correction of the news or even a line of retraction could be found. I pressed the matter on Badger when I went to the school, and he said it might probably appear tomorrow. On that "tomorrow" a line of retraction was printed in tiny types. But the paper did not make any correction of the story. I called the attention of Badger to the fact, and he replied that that was about all that could be done under the circumstance. The principal, with the face like a badger and always swaggering, is surprisingly, wanting in influence. He has not even as much power as to bring down a country newspaper, which had printed a false story. I was so thoroughly indignant that I declared I would go alone to the office and see the editor-in-chief on the subject, but Badger said no. "If you go there and have a blowup with the editor," he continued, "it would only mean of your being handed out worse stuff in the paper again. Whatever is published in a paper, right or wrong, nothing can be done with it." And he wound up with a remark that sounded like a piece of sermon by a Buddhist bonze that "We must be contented by speedily despatching the matter from our minds and forgetting it." If newspapers are of that character, it would be beneficial for us all to have them suspended,--the sooner the better. The similarity of the unpleasant sensation of being written-up in a paper and being bitten-down by a turtle became plain for the first time by the explanation of Badger. About three days afterward, Porcupine came to me excited, and said that the time has now come, that he proposes to execute that thing we had planned out. Then I will do so, I said, and readily agreed to join him. But Porcupine jerked his head, saying that I had better not. I asked him why, and he asked if I had been requested by the principal to tender my resignation. No, I said, and asked if he had. He told me that he was called by the principal who was very, very sorry for him but under the circumstance requested him to decide to resign. "That isn't fair. Badger probably had been pounding his belly-drum too much and his stomach is upside down," I said, "you and I went to the celebration, looked at the glittering sword dance together, and jumped into the fight together to stop it. Wasn't it so? If he wants you to tender your resignation, he should be impartial and should have asked me to also. What makes everything in the country school so dull-head. This is irritating!" "That's wire-pulling by Red Shirt," he said. "I and Red Shirt cannot go along together, but they think you can be left as harmless." "I wouldn't get along with that Red Shirt either. Consider me harmless, eh? They're getting too gay with me." "You're so simple and straight that they think they can handle you in any old way." "Worse still. I wouldn't get along with him, I tell you." "Besides, since the departure of Koga, his successor has not arrived. Furthermore, if they fire me and you together, there will be blank spots in the schedule hours at the school." "Then they expect me to play their game. Darn the fellow! See if they can make me." On going to the school next day I made straightway for the room of the principal and started firing; "Why don't you ask me to put in my resignation?" I said. "Eh?" Badger stared blankly. "You requested Hotta to resign, but not me. Is that right?" "That is on account of the condition of the school......" "That condition is wrong, I dare say. If I don't have to resign, there should be no necessity for Hotta to resign either." "I can't offer a detailed explanation about that......as to Hotta, it cannot be helped if he goes...... ......we see no need of your resigning." Indeed, he is a badger. He jabbers something, dodging the point, but appears complacent. So I had to say: "Then, I will tender my resignation. You might have thought that I would remain peacefully while Mr. Hotta is forced to resign, but I cannot do it" "That leaves us in a bad fix. If Hotta goes away and you follow him, we can't teach mathematics here." "None of my business if you can't." "Say, don't be so selfish. You ought to consider the condition of the school. Besides, if it is said that you resigned within one month of starting a new job, it would affect your record in the future. You should consider that point also." "What do I care about my record. Obligation is more important than record." "That's right. What you say is right, but be good enough to take our position into consideration. If you insist on resigning, then resign, but please stay until we get some one to take your place. At any rate, think the matter over once more, please." The reason was so plain as to discourage any attempt to think it over, but as I took some pity on Badger whose face reddened or paled alternately as he spoke, I withdrew on the condition that I would think the matter over. I did not talk with Red Shirt. If I have to land him one, it was better, I thought, to have it bunched together and make it hot and strong. I acquainted Porcupine with the details of my meeting with Badger. He said he had expected it to be about so, and added that the matter of resignation can be left alone without causing me any embarrassment until the time comes. So I followed his advice. Porcupine appears somewhat smarter than I, and I have decided to accept whatever advices he may give. Porcupine finally tendered his resignation, and having bidden farewell of all the fellow teachers, went down to Minato-ya on the beach. But he stealthily returned to the hot springs town, and having rented a front room upstairs of Masuya, started peeping through the hole he fingered out in the shoji. I am the only person who knows of this. If Red Shirt comes round, it would be night anyway, and as he is liable to be seen by students or some others during the early part in the evening, it would surely be after nine. For the first two nights, I was on the watch till about 11 o'clock, but no sight of Red Shirt was seen. On the third night, I kept peeping through from nine to ten thirty, but he did not come. Nothing made me feel more like a fool than returning to the boarding house at midnight after a fruitless watch. In four or five days, our old lady began worrying about me and advised me to quit night prowling,--being married. My night prowling is different from that kind of night prowling. Mine is that of administering a deserved chastisement. But then, when no encouragement is in sight after one week, it becomes tiresome. I am quick tempered, and get at it with all zeal when my interest is aroused, and would sit up all night to work it out, but I have never shone in endurance. However loyal a member of the heavenly-chastisement league I may be, I cannot escape monotony. On the sixth night I was a little tired, and on the seventh thought I would quit. Porcupine, however, stuck to it with bull-dog tenacity. From early in the evening up to past twelve, he would glue his eye to the shoji and keep steadily watching under the gas globe of Kadoya. He would surprise me, when I come into the room, with figures showing how many patrons there were to-day, how many stop-overs and how many women, etc. Red Shirt seems never to be coming, I said, and he would fold his arms, audibly sighing, "Well, he ought to." If Red Shirt would not come just for once, Porcupine would be deprived of the chance of handing out a deserved and just punishment. I left my boarding house about 7 o'clock on the eighth night and after having enjoyed my bath, I bought eight raw eggs. This would counteract the attack of sweet potatoes by the old lady. I put the eggs into my right and left pockets, four in each, with the same old red towel hung over my shoulder, my hands inside my coat, went to Masuya. I opened the shoji of the room and Porcupine greeted me with his Idaten-like face suddenly radiant, saying: "Say, there's hope! There's hope!" Up to last night, he had been downcast, and even I felt gloomy. But at his cheerful countenance, I too became cheerful, and before hearing anything, I cried, "Hooray! Hooray!" "About half past seven this evening," he said, "that geisha named Kosuzu has gone into Kadoya." "With Red Shirt?" "No." "That's no good then." "There were two geishas......seems to me somewhat hopeful." "How?" "How? Why, the sly old fox is likely to send his girls ahead[Q], and sneak round behind later." "That may be the case. About nine now, isn't it?" "About twelve minutes past nine," said he, pulling out a watch with a nickel case, "and, say put out the light. It would be funny to have two silhouettes of bonze heads on the shoji. The fox is too ready to suspect." I blew out the lamp which stood upon the lacquer-enameled table. The shoji alone was dimly plain by the star light. The moon has not come up yet. I and Porcupine put our faces close to the shoji, watching almost breathless. A wall clock somewhere rang half past nine. "Say, will he come to-night, do you think? If he doesn't show up, I quit." "I'm going to keep this up while my money lasts." "Money? How much have you?" "I've paid five yen and sixty sen up to to-day for eight days. I pay my bill every night, so I can jump out anytime." "That's well arranged. The people of this hotel must have been rather put out, I suppose." "That's all right with the hotel; only I can't take my mind off the house." "But you take some sleep in daytime." "Yes, I take a nap, but it's nuisance because I can't go out." "Heavenly chastisement is a hard job, I'm sure," I said. "If he gives us the slip after giving us such trouble, it would have been a thankless task." "Well, I'm sure he will come to-night...--... Look, look!" His voice changed to whisper and I was alert in a moment. A fellow with a black hat looked up at the gas light of Kadoya and passed on into the darkness. No, it was not Red Shirt. Disappointing, this! Meanwhile the clock at the office below merrily tinkled off ten. It seems to be another bum watch to-night. The streets everywhere had become quiet. The drum playing in the tenderloin reached our ears distinctively. The moon had risen from behind the hills of the hot springs. It is very light outside. Then voices were heard below. We could not poke our heads out of the window, so were unable to see the owners of the voices, but they were evidently coming nearer. The dragging of komageta (a kind of wooden footwear) was heard. They approached so near we could see their shadows. "Everything is all right now. We've got rid of the stumbling block." It was undoubtedly the voice of Clown. "He only glories in bullying but has no tact." This from Red Shirt. "He is like that young tough, isn't he? Why, as to that young tough, he is a winsome, sporty Master Darling." "I don't want my salary raised, he says, or I want to tender resignation,--I'm sure something is wrong with his nerves." I was greatly inclined to open the window, jump out of the second story and make them see more stars than they cared to, but I restrained myself with some effort. The two laughed, and passed below the gas light, and into Kadoya. "Say." "Well." "He's here." "Yes, he has come at last." "I feel quite easy now." "Damned Clown called me a sporty Master Darling." "The stumbling[R] block means me. Hell!" I and Porcupine had to waylay them on their return. But we knew no more than the man in the moon when they would come out. Porcupine went down to the hotel office, notifying them to the probability of our going out at midnight, and requesting them to leave the door unfastened so we could get out anytime. As I think about it now, it is wonderful how the hotel people complied with our request. In most cases, we would have been taken for burglars. It was trying to wait for the coming of Red Shirt, but it was still more trying to wait for his coming out again. We could not go to sleep, nor could we remain with our faces stuck to the shoji all the time our minds constantly in a state of feverish agitation. In all my life, I never passed such fretful, mortifying hours. I suggested that we had better go right into his room and catch him but Porcupine rejected the proposal outright. If we get in there at this time of night, we are likely to be prevented from preceding much further, he said, and if we ask to see him, they will either answer that he is not there or will take us into a different room. Supposing we do break into a room, we cannot tell of all those many rooms, where we can find him. There is no other way but to wait for him to come out, however tiresome it may be. So we sat up till five in the morning. The moment we saw them emerging from Kadoya, I and Porcupine followed them. It was some time before the first train started and they had to walk up to town. Beyond the limit of the hot springs town, there is a road for about one block running through the rice fields, both sides of which are lined with cedar trees. Farther on are thatch-roofed farm houses here and there, and then one comes upon a dyke leading straight to the town through the fields. We can catch them anywhere outside the town, but thinking it would be better to get them, if possible, on the road lined with cedar trees where we may not be seen by others, we followed them cautiously. Once out of the town limit, we darted on a double-quick time, and caught up with them. Wondering what was coming after them, they turned back, and we grabbed their shoulders. We cried, "Wait!" Clown, greatly rattled, attempted to escape, but I stepped in front of him to cut off his retreat. "What makes one holding the job of a head teacher stay over night at Kadoya!" Porcupine directly fired the opening gun. "Is there any rule that a head teacher should not stay over night at Kadoya?" Red Shirt met the attack in a polite manner. He looked a little pale. "Why the one who is so strict as to forbid others from going even to noodle house or dango shop as unbecoming to instructors, stayed over night at a hotel with a geisha!" Clown was inclined to run at the first opportunity; so kept I before him. "What's that Master Darling of a young tough!" I roared. "I didn't mean you. Sir. No, Sir, I didn't mean you, sure." He insisted on this brazen excuse. I happened to notice at that moment that I had held my pockets with both hands. The eggs in both pockets jerked so when I ran, that I had been holding them, I thrust my hand into the pocket, took out two and dashed them on the face of Clown. The eggs crushed, and from the tip of his nose the yellow streamed down. Clown was taken completely surprised, and uttering a hideous cry, he fell down on the ground and begged for mercy. I had bought those eggs to eat, but had not carried them for the purpose of making "Irish Confetti" of them. Thoroughly roused, in the moment of passion, I had dashed them at him before I knew what I was doing. But seeing Clown down and finding my hand grenade successful, I banged the rest of the eggs on him, intermingled with "Darn you, you sonovagun!" The face of Clown was soaked in yellow. While I was bombarding Clown with the eggs, Porcupine was firing at Red[S] Shirt. "Is there any evidence that I stayed there over night with a geisha?" "I saw your favorite old chicken go there early in the evening, and am telling you so. You can't fool me!" "No need for us of fooling anybody. I stayed there with Mr. Yoshikawa, and whether any geisha had gone there early in the evening or not, that's none of my business." "Shut up!" Porcupine wallopped him one. Red Shirt tottered. "This is outrageous! It is rough to resort to force before deciding the right or wrong of it!" "Outrageous indeed!" Another clout. "Nothing but wallopping will be effective on you scheming guys." The remark was followed by a shower of blows. I soaked Clown at the same time, and made him think he saw the way to the Kingdom-Come. Finally the two crawled and crouched at the foot of a cedar tree, and either from inability to move or to see, because their eyes had become hazy, they did not even attempt to break away. "Want more? If so, here goes some more!" With that we gave him more until he cried enough. "Want more? You?" we turned to Clown, and he answered "Enough, of course." "This is the punishment of heaven on you grovelling wretches. Keep this in your head and be more careful hereafter. You can never talk down justice." The two said nothing. They were so thoroughly cowed that they could not speak. "I'm going to neither, run away nor hide. You'll find me at Minato-ya on the beach up to five this evening. Bring police officers or any old thing you want," said Porcupine. "I'm not going to run away or hide either. Will wait for you at the same place with Hotta. Take the case to the police station if you like, or do as you damn please," I said, and we two walked our own way. It was a little before seven when I returned to my room. I started packing as soon as I was in the room, and the astonished old lady asked me what I was trying to do. I'm going to Tokyo to fetch my Madam, I said, and paid my bill. I boarded a train and came to Minato-ya on the beach and found Porcupine asleep upstairs. I thought of writing my resignation, but not knowing how, just scribbled off that "because of personal affairs, I have to resign and return, to Tokyo. Yours truly," and addressed and mailed it to the principal. The steamer leaves the harbor at six in the evening. Porcupine and I, tired out, slept like logs, and when we awoke it was two o'clock. We asked the maid if the police had called on us, and she said no. Red Shirt and Clown had not taken it to the police, eh? We laughed. That night I and Porcupine left the town. The farther the vessel steamed away from the shore, the more refreshed we felt. From Kobe to Tokyo we boarded a through train and when we made Shimbashi, we breathed as if we were once more in congenial human society. I parted from Porcupine at the station, and have not had the chance of meeting him since. I forgot to tell you about Kiyo. On my arrival at Tokyo, I rushed into her house swinging my valise, before going to a hotel, with "Hello, Kiyo, I'm back!" "How good of you to return so soon!" she cried and hot tears streamed down her cheeks. I was overjoyed, and declared that I would not go to the country any more but would start housekeeping with Kiyo in Tokyo. Some time afterward, some one helped me to a job as assistant engineer at the tram car office. The salary was 25 yen a month, and the house rent six. Although the house had not a magnificent front entrance, Kiyo seemed quite satisfied, but, I am sorry to say, she was a victim of pneumonia and died in February this year. On the day preceding her death, she asked me to bedside, and said, "Please, Master Darling, if Kiyo is dead, bury me in the temple yard of Master Darling. I will be glad to wait in the grave for my Master Darling." So Kiyo's grave is in the Yogen temple at Kobinata. --(THE END)-- [A: Insitent] [B: queershaped] [C: The original just had the Japanese character, Unicode U+5927, sans description] [D: aweinspiring] [E: about about] [F: atomosphere] [G: Helloo] [H: you go] [I: goo-goo eyes] [J: proper hyphenation unknown] [K: pin-princking] [L: Procupine] [M: celabration] [N: wans't] [O: paper.] [P: girl shead] [Q: stumblieg] [R: Rad] 
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37766	----	STRANGE STORIES FROM THE LODGE OF LEISURES TRANSLATED FROM THE CHINESE BY GEORGE SOULIÉ OF THE FRENCH CONSULAR SERVICE IN CHINA BOSTON AND NEW YORK HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 1913 PRINTED BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., LONDON AND AYLESBURY, ENGLAND. PREFACE The first European students who undertook to give the Western world an idea of Chinese literature were misled by the outward and profound respect affected by the Chinese towards their ancient classics. They have worked from generation to generation in order to translate more and more accurately the thirteen classics, Confucius, Mengtsz, and the others. They did not notice that, once out of school, the Chinese did not pay more attention to their classics than we do to ours: if you see a book in their hands, it will never be the "Great Study" or the "Analects," but much more likely a novel like the "History of the Three Kingdoms," or a selection of ghost-stories. These works that everybody, young or old, reads and reads again, have on the Chinese mind an influence much greater than the whole bulk of the classics. Notwithstanding their great importance for those who study Chinese thought, they have been completely left aside. In fact, the whole of real Chinese literature is still unknown to the Westerners. It is a pity that it should be so. The novels and stories throw an extraordinary light on Chinese everyday life that foreigners have been very seldom, and now will never be, able to witness, and they illustrate in a striking way the idea the Chinese have formed of the other world. One is able at last to understand what is the meaning of the _huen_ or superior soul, which leaves the body after death or during sleep, but keeps its outward appearance and ordinary clothes; the _p'aï_ or inferior soul which remains in the decaying body, and sometimes is strong enough to prevent it from decaying, and to give it all the appearances of life. The magicians of the Tao religion, or Taoist priests, play a great part in these stories, and the Buddhist ideas of metempsychosis give the opportunity of more complicated situations than we dream of. Among the most celebrated works, I have chosen the "Strange Stories from the Lodge of Leisures," _Leao chai Chi yi_. It was written in the second half of the eighteenth century by P'ou Song-lin (P'ou Lieou-hsien), of Tsy-cheou, in the Chantong province. The whole work is composed of more than three hundred stories. I have selected twenty-five among the most characteristic. This being a literary work, and having nothing scientific to boast of, I have tried to give my English readers the same literary impression that the Chinese has. _Tradutore traditore_, say the Italians; I hope I have not been too much of a traitor. A translation is always a most difficult work; if it is materially exact, word for word and sentence by sentence, the so-called scientific men are satisfied, but all the charm, beauty, and interest of the original are lost. Very often, too, such translation is obscure and unintelligible. Each nation has an heirloom of traditions, customs, or religion to which its literature constantly refers. If the reader is not acquainted with that literature, these references will convey no meaning to his mind, or they may even convey a false one. In Chinese, this difficulty is greater than in any other language; the Far Eastern civilisation has had a development of its own, and its legends and superstitions have nothing in common with the Western folklore. The Chinese mind is radically different from ours, and has grown, in every generation, more different by reason of a different training and a different ideal in life. The Chinese writing, moreover, has strengthened those differences; it represents the ideas themselves, instead of representing the words; each Chinese sign may be rightly translated by either of the three or more words by which our language analytically describes every aspect of one same idea. The sign which is read _Tao_, for instance, must be, according to the sentence, translated by any of the words: direction, rule, doctrine, religion, way, road, word, verb; all of them being the different forms of the same idea of direction, moral or physical. Some French sinologists, aware of this difficulty, now translate the texts literally, and try to explain the meaning by a number of notes, which sometimes leave only one or two lines of text in a page. This method seems at first more scientific; it explains everything in the most careful way, and is very useful for the translation of inscriptions or of certain obscure passages in historical books. But for real literature, it is the greatest possible error, leaving out, as it does, all the impression and illusion the author intended to convey. Besides, the necessity of going, at every word, down the page in order to find the meaning in a note, tires the reader and takes away all the pleasure he should derive from the book. One may even say that a materially exact translation is, in reality, a false one; the words we use in writing and speaking being mere technical signs by which we represent our ideas. For instance, the word "cathedral" will certainly not convey the same idea to two men, one of whom has only seen St. Paul's, and the other only Notre-Dame de Paris; for the first, cathedral means a dome; for the other it means two towers and a long ogival nave. Below the outward appearance of the words there lie so many different images that it is absolutely necessary to know the mentality of a nation in order to master its language. In fact, a true translation will be the one that, though sometimes materially inexact, will give the reader the same impression he would have if he were reading the original text. Since I first went to China, in 1901, I have had many opportunities of acquainting myself with all the superstitions of the lower classes, with all the splendid mental and intellectual training of the learned. My experience has helped me to perceive what was hidden beneath the words; and in my translation I have sometimes supplied what the author only thought necessary to imply. In many places the translation is literal; in other places it is literary, it being impossible for a Western writer to retain all the long and useless talking, all the repetitions that Chinese writing and Chinese taste are equally fond of. GEORGE SOULIÉ. CONTENTS THE GHOST IN LOVE THE FRESCO THE DWARF HUNTERS THE CORPSE THE BLOOD DRINKER LOVE REWARDED THE WOMAN IN GREEN THE FAULT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES DECEIVING SHADOWS PEACEFUL-LIGHT HONG THE CURRIER AUTUMN-MOON THE PRINCESS NELUMBO THE TWO BROTHERS THE MARBLE ARCH THE DUTIFUL SON THROUGH MANY LIVES THE RIVER OF SORROWS THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND THE SPIRIT OF THE RIVER THE-DEVILS-OF-THE-OCEAN UNKNOWN DEVILS CHILDLESS THE PATCH OF LAMB'S SKIN LOVE'S-SLAVE THE LAUGHING GHOST _Strange Stories from the Lodge of Leisures_ _THE GHOST IN LOVE_ On the 15th day of the First Moon, in the second year of the period of "Renewed Principles," the streets of the town of the Eastern Lake were thronged with people who were strolling about. At the setting of the sun every shop was brightly lit up; processions of people moved hither and thither; strings of boys were carrying lanterns of every form and colour; whole families passed, every member of whom, young or old, small or big, was holding at the end of a thin bamboo the lighted image of a bird, an animal, or a flower. Richer ones, several together, were carrying enormous dragons whose luminous wings waved at every motion and whose glaring eyes rolled from right to left. It was the Fête of the Lanterns. A young man, clothed in a long pale green dress, allowed himself to be pushed about by the crowd; the passers-by bowed to him: "How is my Lord Li The-peaceful?" "The humble student thanks you; and you, how are you?" "Very well, thanks to your happy influence." "Does the precious student soon pass his second literary examination?" "In two months; ignorant that I am. I am idling instead of working." The fête was drawing to a close when The-peaceful quitted the main street, and went towards the East Gate, where the house was to be found in which he lived alone. He went farther and farther: the moving lights were rarer; ere long he only saw before him the fire of a white lantern decorated with two red peonies. The paper globe was swinging to the steps of a tiny girl clothed in the blue linen that only slaves wore. The light, behind, showed the elegant silhouette of another woman, this one covered with a long jacket made in a rich pink silk edged with purple. As the student drew nearer, the belated walker turned round, showing an oval face and big long eyes, wherein shone a bright speck, cruel and mysterious. Li The-peaceful slackened his pace, following the two strangers, whose small feet glided silently on the shining flagstones of the street. He was asking himself how he could begin a conversation, when the mistress turned round again, softly smiled, and in a low, rich voice, said to him: "Is it not strange that in the advancing night we are following the same road?" "I owe it to the favour of Heaven," he at once replied; "for I am returning to the East Gate; otherwise I should never have dared to follow you." The conversation, once begun, continued as they walked side by side. The student learned that the pretty walker was called "Double-peony," that she was the daughter of Judge Siu, that she lived out of the city in a garden planted with big trees, on the road to the lake. On arriving at his house The-peaceful insisted that his new friend should enter and take a cup of tea. She hesitated; then the two young people pushed the door, crossed the small yard bordered right and left with walls covered with tiles, and disappeared in the house.... The servant remained under the portal. Daylight was breaking when the young girl came out again, calling the servant, who was asleep. The next evening she came again, always accompanied by the slave bearing the white lantern with two red peonies. It was the same each day following. A neighbour who had watched these nocturnal visits was inquisitive enough to climb the wall which separated his yard from that of the lovers, and to wait, hidden in the shade of the house. At the accustomed hour the street-door, left ajar, opened to let in the visitors. Once in the courtyard, they were suddenly transformed, their eyes became flaming and red; their faces grew pale; their teeth seemed to lengthen; an icy mist escaped from their lips. The neighbour did not see any more: terrified, he let himself slide to the ground and ran to his inner room. The next morning he went to the student and told him what he had seen. The lover was paralysed with fear: in order to reassure himself he resolved to find out everything he could about his mistress. He at once went outside the ramparts, on the road to the lake, hoping to find the house of Judge Siu. But at the place he had been told of there was no habitation; on the left, a fallow plain, sown with tombs, went up to the hills; on the right, cultivated fields extended as far as the lake. However, a small temple was hidden there under big trees. The student had given up all hope; he entered, notwithstanding, into the sacred enclosure, knowing that travellers stayed there sometimes for several weeks. In the first yard a bonze was passing in his red dress and shaven head; he stopped him. "Do you know Judge Siu? He has a daughter----" "Judge Siu's daughter?" asked the priest, astonished. "Well--yes--but wait, I will show her to you." The-peaceful felt his heart overflowing with joy; his beloved one was living; he was going to see her by the light of day. He quickly followed his companion. Passing the first court, they crossed a threshold and found themselves in a yard planted with high pine-trees and bordered by a low pavilion. The bonze, passing in first, pushed a door, and, turning round, said: "Here is Judge Siu's daughter!" The other stopped, terrified; on a trestle a heavy black lacquered coffin bore this inscription in golden letters: "Coffin of Double-peony, Judge Siu's daughter." On the wall was an unfolded painting representing the little maid; a white lantern decorated with two red peonies was hung over it. "Yes, she has been there for the last two years; her parents, according to the rite, are waiting for a favourable day to bury her." The student silently turned on his heel and went back, not deigning to reply to the mocking bow of the priest. Evening arrived; he locked himself in, and, covering his head with his blankets, he waited; sleep came to him only at daybreak. But he could not cease to think of her whom he no longer saw; his heart beat as if to burst, when in the street he perceived the silhouette of a woman which reminded him of his friend. At last he was incapable of containing himself any longer; one evening he stationed himself behind the door. After a few minutes there was a knock; he opened the door; it was only the little maid: "My mistress is in tears; why do you never open the door? I come every evening. If you will follow me, perhaps she will forgive you." The-peaceful, blinded by love, started at once, walking by the light of the white lantern. * * * * * The next day the neighbours, seeing that the student's door was open, and that his house was empty, made a declaration to the governor of the town. The police made an inquest; they collected the evidence of several people who had been watching the nightly visitors the student had received. The bonze of the temple outside the city walls came to say what he knew. The chief of the police went to the road leading to the lake; he crossed the threshold of the little edifice, passed the first yard and at last opened the door of the pavilion. Everything was in order, but under the lid of the heavy coffin one could see the corner of the long green dress of the student. In order to do away with evil influences there was a solemn funeral. * * * * * Ever since this time, on light clear nights, the passers-by often meet the two lovers entwined together, slowly walking on the road which leads to the lake. _THE FRESCO_ In the Great Highway of Eternal Fixity, Mong Flowing-spring and his friend Choo Little-lotus were slowly walking, clothed in the long light green dress of the students. They had both just passed with success their third literary examination, and were enjoying the pleasures of the capital before returning to their distant province. As they were both of small means, they were looking now (and at the same time filling their eyes with the movement of the street) for a lodging less expensive than the inn where they had put up on arriving at Pekin. Leaving the Great Highway, they strolled far into a labyrinth of lanes more and more silent. They soon lost themselves. Undecided, they had stopped, when they spied out the red lacquered portal of a temple of the Mysterious-way. Pushing the heavy sides of the door, they entered; an old man with his hair tightly drawn together in a black cap, majestic in his grey dress, stood behind the door and appeared to be waiting for them. "Your coming lightens my humble dwelling," he said in bowing. "I beg you will enter." "I do not dare! I do not dare!" murmured the two students, bowing in their turn. They nevertheless entered, crossing the yard on which the portal opened, which was closed, at the end, by the little temple in open woodwork close under the mass of roofs of green tiles. They went up three steps, then, pushing a narrow and straight door, they entered. In the half-shadow they distinguished on the white altar a statue of Tche Kong The-Supreme-Lord, with a golden face and griffins' feet like the claws of an eagle. The walls on each side of the altar were painted in frescoes; on the wall on the right you saw goddesses in the midst of flowers. One of these young girls, with a low chignon, was gathering a peony and was slightly smiling. Her mouth, like a cherry, seemed as if it were really opening; one would have sworn that her eyelids fluttered. Mong Flowing-spring, his eyes fixed on the painting, remained a long time without moving, absorbed in his admiration of the work of art, and disturbed beyond expression by the beauty of the goddess with the low chignon. "Why is she not living?" said he. "I would willingly give my life for a moment of her love!" Suddenly he started; the young goddess raised herself upright, bursting with laughter, and got down from the wall. She crossed the door, went down the staircase, stepped over the yard and left the place. Flowing-spring followed her without reflecting. He saw her going away with a light step, and turn down the first lane; the young student ran behind her. As he turned the corner, he saw her stop at the entrance of a small house. She was gracefully waving her hand, and, with sly glances, made him signs to come. He hastened forward and entered in his turn. In the silent house there was nobody, no one but the goddess standing in her long mauve dress and nibbling the flower that she had picked and that she still held in her hand. "I bow down," said the student, who knelt to salute her. "Rise! you exceed the rites prescribed," she replied. "I bend my head, not being able to bear the splendour of your beauty." As she did not seem to be discontented he continued telling her his admiration and his desire. He approached, touched her hand; she started, but did not draw back. He then took her in his arms; she did not make much resistance. The moments passed rapidly. They spoke to each other in a low voice, when, suddenly in the street, a noise of heavy boots resounded; steps stopped before the door; the lock was shaken; oaths were heard. The young girl grew pale; she told Flowing-spring to hide himself under the bed. The student felt his heart become quite small; he crouched down in the shadow, not even being able to breathe. From the depth of his hiding-place, he saw an officer enter, his face in black lacquer, covered with a golden cuirass and surrounded by a troop of young girls in long dresses of bright colours. "I smell an odour of human flesh!" grumbled the officer, walking heavily and going round the room. "Hide yourself well!" the goddess murmured to her lover, raising herself from the bed and white with terror. "If you can escape from him, wait till we have left, and open the little door at the end of the garden; then run away quickly!" "There is a man here! I smell him! He must be delivered to me! If not, I shall punish the person who has hidden him." "We know nothing!" all the young women said together. "Very well! Let us go out." Then, following the gracious troop which the goddess had joined, he crossed the threshold. Flowing-spring, hidden under the bed, waited till the noise of the boots had gone away. Then he glided with caution from his refuge. Half bent, listening with anxiety in fear of being surprised, he flew from the room and crossed the garden. During this time Choo Little-lotus, having remained in the temple, had not remarked the departure of his friend. But, turning round and not any longer seeing him, he questioned the old magician. "Your friend is not far off," he replied. Then, showing him the wall, he said: "Look! here he is!" And, indeed, in the centre of the fresco, the image of Flowing-spring was painted; he was crouched in among the flowers, straining his ear. The image moved, and, suddenly, the student separated himself from the wall and advanced, looking sad and anxious. Choo Little-lotus, terrified, was looking at him. The other told him his adventure. As he spoke a terrible clap of thunder was heard. The two friends instinctively shut their eyes; when they opened them, their glance fell on the fresco: the goddesses had taken their places there again, in the midst of the flowers; but the young girl with the low chignon was no longer there. The magician smiled at Flowing-spring: "Love has touched her. She has become a woman and is waiting for you in your village." _THE DWARF HUNTERS_ The heavy summer in the South is particularly hard to bear for those who are ill. The damp heat keeps them awake, and thousands of insects trouble their rest. Wang Little-third-one, stretched on his bed made of bamboo laths, where a low fever kept him, complained of it to all those who came to see him, especially to his friend the magician officiating priest of the little temple situated in the neighbouring crossway. The magician knew something of medicine; he prescribed a calming potion and retired. When Little-third-one had drunk the potion, his fever fell and he was able to enjoy a little sleep. He was awakened by a slight noise; night had come on; the room was lighted by the full moon, which threw a bright gleam by the open door. All the insects were moving and flying hither and thither; white ants who gnaw wood, bad-smelling bugs, enormous cockroaches, mosquitoes, innumerable and various flies. As Little-third-one was looking, his attention was drawn by a movement on the threshold: a small man, not bigger than a thumb, advanced with precautious steps; in his hand he held a bow; a sword was hanging at his side. Little-third-one, on looking closer, saw two dogs as big as shirt-buttons running before the man with the bow; they suddenly stopped: the archer approached, held out his weapon, and discharged the arrow. A cockroach who was crawling before the dogs made a bound, fell on its back, moved again, then remained motionless; the arrow had run through it. Behind the first huntsman others had come; some were on horseback, armed with swords; some on foot. From that time it was a pursuit without intermission; hundreds of insects were shot. At first the mosquitoes escaped; but as they cannot fly for long, every time that one remained still it was transpierced by the huntsmen. Soon nothing was left of all the insects who broke the silence with their buzzing, their gnashing of teeth, or their falling. A horseman then was seen galloping over the room, looking from right to left. He then gave the signal; all the huntsmen called their dogs, went towards the door, and disappeared. Little-third-one had not moved, in order not to disturb the hunt. At last he peacefully went to sleep, henceforth sure of not being awakened by a sting or a bite. He awoke late the next day almost cured. When his friend the magician came to see him, he told him his experience: the other smiled. Wang understood that the mysterious hunters came from the little temple. _THE CORPSE THE BLOOD-DRINKER_ Night was slowly falling in the narrow valley. On the winding path cut in the side of the hill about twenty mules were following each other, bending under their heavy load; the muleteers, being tired, did not cease to hurry forward their animals, abusing them with coarse voices. Comfortably seated on mules with large pack-saddles, three men were going along at the same pace as the caravan of which they were the masters. Their thick dresses, their fur boots, and their red woollen hoods protected them from the cold wind of the mountain. In the darkness, rendered thicker by a slight fog, the lights of a village were shining, and soon the mules, hurrying all together, jostling their loads, crowded before the only inn of the place. The three travellers, happy to be able to rest, got down from their saddles when the innkeeper came out on the step of his door and excused himself, saying all his rooms were taken. "I have still, it is true, a large hall the other side of the street, but it is only a barn, badly shut. I will show it to you." The merchants, disappointed, consulted each other with a look; but it was too late to continue their way; they followed their landlord. The hall that was shown to them was big enough and closed at the end by a curtain. Their luggage was brought; the bed-clothes rolled on the pack-saddles were spread out, as usual, on planks and trestles. The meal was served in the general sitting-room, in the midst of noise, laughing, and movement--smoking rice, vegetables preserved in vinegar, and lukewarm wine served in small cups. Then every one went to bed; the lights were put out and profound silence prevailed in the sleeping village. However, towards the hour of the Rat, a sensation of cold and uneasiness awoke one of the three travellers named Wang Fou, Happiness-of-the-kings. He turned in his bed, but the snoring of his two companions annoyed him; he could not get to sleep. Again, seeing that his rest was finished, he got up, relit the lamp which was out, took a book from his baggage, and stretched himself out again. But if he could not sleep, it was just as impossible to read. In spite of himself, his eyes quitted the columns of letters laid out in lines and searched into the darkness that the feeble light did not contrive to break through. A growing terror froze him. He would have liked to awaken his companions, but the fear of being made fun of prevented him. By dint of looking, he at last saw a slight movement shake the big curtain which closed the room. There came from behind a crackling of wood being broken. Then a long, painful threatening silence began again. The merchant felt his flesh thrill; he was filled with horror, in spite of his efforts to be reasonable. He had put aside his book, and, the coverlet drawn up to his nose, he fixed his enlarged eyes on the shadowy corners at the end of the room. The side of the curtain was lifted; a pale hand held the folds. The stuff, thus raised, permitted a being to pass, whose form, hardly distinct, seemed penetrated by the shadow. Happiness-of-kings would have liked to scream; his contracted throat allowed no sound to escape. Motionless and speechless, he followed with his horrified look the slow movement of the apparition which approached. He, little by little, recognised the silhouette of a female, seen by her short quilted dress and her long narrow jacket. Behind the body he perceived the curtain again moving. The spectre, in the meantime bending over the bed of one of the sleeping travellers, appeared to give him a long kiss. Then it went towards the couch of the second merchant. Happiness-of-kings distinctly saw the pale figure, the eyes, from which a red flame was shining, and sharp teeth, half-exposed in a ferocious smile, which opened and shut by turns on the throat of the sleeper. A start disturbed the body under the cover, then all stopped: the spectre was drinking in long draughts. Happiness-of-kings, seeing that his turn was coming, had just strength enough to pull the coverlet over his head. He heard grumblings; a freezing breath penetrated through the wadded material. The paroxysm of terror gave the merchant full possession of his strength; with a convulsive movement he threw his coverlet on the apparition, jumped out of his bed, and, yelling like a wild beast, he ran as far as the door and flew away in the night. Still running, he felt the freezing breath in his back, he heard the furious growlings of the spectre. The prolonged howling of the unhappy man filled the narrow street and awoke all the sleepers in their beds, but none of them moved; they hid themselves farther and farther under their coverlets. These inhuman cries meant nothing good for those who should have been bold enough to go outside. The bewildered fugitive crossed the village, going faster and faster. Arriving at the last houses, he was only a few feet in advance and felt himself fainting. The road at the extremity of the village was bordered with narrow fields shaded with big trees. The instinct of a hunted animal drove on the distracted merchant; he made a brisk turn to the right, then to the left, and threw himself behind the knotted trunk of a huge chestnut-tree. The freezing hand already touched his shoulder; he fell senseless. * * * * * In the morning, in broad daylight, two men who came to plough in this same field were surprised to perceive against the tree a white form, and, on the ground, a man stretched out. This fact coming after the howling in the night appeared strange to them; they turned back and went to find the Chief of the Elders. When they returned, the greater part of the inhabitants of the village followed them. They approached and found that the form against the tree was the corpse of a young woman, her nails buried in the bark; from her mouth a stream of blood had flowed and stained her white silk jacket. A shudder of horror shook the lookers-on: the Chief of the Elders recognised his daughter dead for the last six months whose coffin was placed in a barn, waiting for the burial, a favourable day to be fixed by the astrologers. The innkeeper recognised one of his guests in the man stretched on the ground, whom no care could revive. They returned in haste to find out in what condition the coffin was: the door of the barn was still open. They went in; a coverlet was thrown on the ground near the entrance; on two beds the great sun lit up the hollow and greenish aspect of the corpses whose blood had been emptied. Behind the drawn curtain the coffin was found open. The corpse of the young woman evidently had not lost its inferior soul, the vital breath. Like all beings deprived of conscience and reason, her ferocity was eager for blood. _LOVE REWARDED_ Lost in the heart of Peking, in one of the most peaceful neighbourhoods of the Yellow City, the street of Glowing-happiness was sleeping in the silence and in the light. On the right and left of the dusty road was some waste ground, where several red mangy, and surly dogs were sleeping. Five or six low houses, their white walls forming a line not well defined, whose low roofs were covered with grey tiles, bordered the road. In the first year of the Glorious-Strength, four hundred years ago, a young man with long hair tied together under the black gauze cap of the scholars, clothed in a pink dress with purple flowers, was walking in the setting sun, stepping cautiously in order not to cover with dust his shoes with thick felt soles. When the first stars began to shine in the darkening sky, he entered one of the houses. A wick in a saucer, soaking in oil, burning and smoking, vaguely lighted an open book on the table: one could only guess, in the shadow, the form of a chair, a bed in a corner, and a few inscriptions hanging on the whitewashed walls. The scholar seated himself before his table and resumed, as he did every evening, his reading of the Classics, of which he sought to penetrate the entire meaning. Late passers-by in this lonely thoroughfare still saw his lamp shining across the trellises of the windows far into the night. Golden-dragon lived alone. Now, on that evening an inexplicable languor made him dreamy; his eyes followed in vain the text; his rebellious thoughts were scattered. Impatiently at last he was just going to put out his lamp and go to bed, when he heard some one knocking at the door. "Come in!" he cried. The door grinding on its hinges, a young woman appeared clothed in a long gown of bright green silk, gracefully lifting her foot to cross the threshold, and bowing with her two hands united. Golden-dragon, hurriedly rising to reply, waved in his turn his fists joined together at the same height as his visage and said, according to the ritual: "Be kind enough to be seated! What is your noble name?" The visitor did not pronounce a word; her large black eyes, shadowed by long eyelashes, were fixed on the face of her host, while she tried to regain her panting breath. As she advanced, Golden-dragon felt a strange feeling of admiration and love. He did not think such a perfect beauty could exist. As he remained speechless, she smiled, and her smile had on him the effect of a strong drink on a hungry man; troubled and dazed, he lost the conscience of his personality and his acts. The next morning the sun was shining when he awoke, asking himself if he had not been dreaming. He thought all day long of his strange visitor, making thousands of suppositions. Evening coming on, she suddenly entered, and it was as it had been the night before. Two months passed; then the young girl's visits abruptly ceased. The night covered everything with its black veil, but nobody appeared at the door. Golden-dragon the first night, waited for her till the hour of the Rat; at last he went to his couch and fell asleep. Almost immediately he saw her carried away by two horny _yecha_; she was calling him: "My beloved, I am drawn away towards the inferior regions. I shall never be able to get away if prayers are not said for me. My body lies in the next house." He started out of sleep in the efforts he made to fly to her, and could not rest again in his impatience to assert what she had said. As soon as the sun was up, he ran towards the only house that was next to his. He knocked; no one replied. Pushing the door, he entered. The house seemed to be recently abandoned, the rooms were empty, but in a side hall a black lacquered coffin rested on trestles; on a table the "Book of Liberation" was open at the chapter of "The great recall." Golden-dragon doubted no longer; he sang in a high voice the entire chapter, shut the book, and returned home full of a strange peacefulness. Every evening from that time, at the hour when she had appeared to him, he lit a lantern, went to the house next door and read a chapter of the holy text. Years passed by; he got beyond his fiftieth year, grew bent, and walked with difficulty, but he never missed performing the duty he had imposed on himself for his unknown friend. The house where the coffin was placed had successively been let to several families; but he had arranged that the funereal room should never be touched. The lodgers bowed to the scholar when he came, and talked to him; the whole town was entertained with this touching example of such everlasting love. "So much constancy and such fidelity cannot remain without reward," they said. But time slipped by and nothing came to change the regular life of the old man. On his seventieth birthday, as he went to his neighbours, he remarked a violent excitement. "My wife has just had a child," said the chief of the family, going to meet him. "Come and wish her happiness; she does not cease to ask for you." "Is it a boy?" "No, unhappily, a girl, but such a pretty little thing." Followed by the happy father, the scholar with white hair penetrated into the room; the mother smiled, holding out the baby to him. Golden-dragon suddenly started; the child held out her arms to him and on her little lips, hardly formed, hovered the shadow of a disappeared smile, the smile of the unknown woman. And as he looked an extraordinary sensation troubled him; he felt he was growing younger, more vigorous. Soon, in the midst of the cries of admiration of the whole family, the bent old man grew straight again; his grey hair turned black, and the change continued; he became a young man, a boy, and soon a child. When the Bell of the great Tower struck the hour of the Rat, he was a fat pink baby playing and laughing with the little girl. The governor of the town, being informed, personally directed an inquiry. It was discovered that the coffin had disappeared at the same hour when the transformation had happened. The Emperor, on the report of the governor, ordered the two children to receive a handsome dowry. As to them, they grew up, loved each other, and lived happy and well as far as the limits of human longevity. _THE WOMAN IN GREEN_ At this time, in the Pavilion-of-the-guests, in the Monastery-of-the-healing-springs, the most celebrated of the Fo-kien province, lived a young scholar whose name was Little-cypress. As soon as the sun rose he was at his work, seated near the trellised window. When night fell, his lamp still lit the outline of the wooden trellis. One morning a shadow darkened his book; he raised his eyes: a young woman with a long green skirt, her face of matchless beauty, was standing outside the window and was looking at him. "You are then always working, Lord Little-cypress?" she said. She was so bewitching that he knew her immediately for a goddess; but all the same he asked her where she lived and what was her name. "Your lordship has looked on his humble wife; he has known her as a goddess. What is the use of so many questions?" Little-cypress, satisfied with this reply, invited her to enter the house. She came in; her waist was so small, one would almost have thought that her body was divided in two. He invited her to sit down; they talked and laughed together a long time. He asked her to sing, and, with a low voice, which filled her friend with rapture, she sang: "On the trees the bird pursues his companion; Oppressed slaves free themselves with love. How has my Lord lived alone, Without enjoying all the pleasures of married life?" The sound vibrated like a thread of silk; it penetrated the ear and troubled the heart. As she finished, she suddenly arose. "A man is standing near the window, he is listening to us ... he is going round ... he is trying to see." "Since when does a goddess fear a man?" replied Little-cypress, laughing. "I am troubled without knowing why; my heart beats. I wish to go." She went to open the door, but abruptly shut it. "I do not know why I am thus upset. Will you accompany me as far as the entrance gate?" Little-cypress held her up till they got to the gate; he had just left her and turned his head, when he heard her call for help in a voice full of anguish. He hurriedly turned round; no one was to be seen. As he was looking for her with stupefaction his eyes fell on a big cobweb, stretched in the corner of the wall. The ugly and gigantic insect held in its claws a dragon-fly who was struggling and dolefully crying. Affected by this sight, he hastened to deliver it. The pretty insect immediately flew in the direction of the Pavilion-of-the-guests. Little-cypress saw it go in at the window and alight on the stone for grinding the ink. Then it arose again and alighted on the paper which was placed on the table; there it oddly crawled, retracing its steps, returning, advancing, and stopping. After a moment it took its flight and disappeared in the sky. Little-cypress, much puzzled, approached and looked; on the paper was written in big strokes the word "Thanks." _THE FAULT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES_ When Dawning-colour was on the point of dying, he called his mother to him. "Mother," he said, "I am going to die. I do not wish White-orchid, my young wife, to feel herself bound to keep the widowhood. When her mourning will be finished, she will marry again: our son is only three years old; you will keep him with you." Now, the mourning was not yet finished and the coffin was still in the house waiting for a favourable day, when the young widow began to find the solitude weigh upon her. A rich sluggard of the village, named Adolescent, had several times sent proposals to her through a neighbour; she at last was unwise enough to agree to an interview with him. When evening came, Adolescent jumped over the neighbour's wall and went to her room. He had not been there half an hour when there arose a great noise in the hall where the coffin was; it seemed as if the cover was violently thrown to the ground. A little slave who was called afterwards as a witness told how she ran into the yard and saw her master's corpse brandishing a sword and jumping towards the room where the lovers were to be found. A few instants after, she saw the young widow come out screaming and run to the garden. Adolescent followed her, covered with blood; he crossed the threshold and disappeared in the night. Now, Adolescent, flying from danger, pushed the first door that he came across in the street; it was that of a young couple; the husband, named Wang, was absent and only expected to return the next day. The young wife, hearing a noise, thought it was her husband returning. "Is that you?" she asked, without quite waking up. Adolescent, who knew Madame Wang was pretty, answered "Yes" in a low voice, taking advantage of her error. A short time after, at Wang's turn to enter, he struck a light, saw a man in his room, and, furious, seized a pike. Adolescent tried to hide himself under the bed, but the husband transpierced him several times. He wished to kill his wife, but she so much begged him not to that he spared her. The cries and supplications which came from the room had, however, awoke the neighbours, who came in; they pulled Adolescent's body from under the bed; he died almost directly. There was a silence; the affair was serious. Then one of the assistants said: "The judges won't believe that you were in your right of outraged husband; you ought to have killed your wife also. As it is, you will be condemned." Thereupon, Wang killed the unhappy woman. During this time Dawning-colour's mother, having heard the screams of her daughter-in-law, thought there was a burglar in the house; she cried for help and tried to light a lamp, but she was trembling, and her curtains caught fire. Some neighbours arrived in haste; while a few of them extinguished the fire, the others, armed with crossbows, ran through the house and garden in search of the thief. At the bottom of the orchard they saw a white mass moving at the foot of the wall. Without waiting to ascertain what it was, they shot several arrows; everything was still. The archers approached and lit a torch; they saw the body of White-orchid transpierced in the head and chest. Horrified by what they had done, they informed the old woman, who said nothing. But this was not all. The elder brother of White-orchid, furious at the tragic death of his sister, had a lawsuit with the archers and the old woman. As usual, the judges ruined both parties; they condemned Dawning-colour's mother and the archers to receive five hundred bamboo strokes. The latter were not strong enough to bear this punishment, and died under the stick. And thus the affair ended. _DECEIVING SHADOWS_ Night was falling when the horseshoes of the mules of my caravan resounded on the slippery flagstones of the village. Tired by a long day of walking, I directed my steps towards the large hall of the inn, with the intention of resting a moment while my repast was being prepared. In the darkened room the glimmer of a small opium-lamp lit up the pale and hollow face of an old man, occupied in holding over the flame a small ball of the black drug, which would soon be transformed into smoke, source of forgetfulness and dreams. The old man returned my greeting, and invited me to lie down on the couch opposite to him. He handed me a pipe already prepared and we began talking together. As ordered by the laws of politeness, I remarked to my neighbour that he seemed robust for his age. "My age? Do you, then, think I am so old?" "But, as you are so wise, you must have seen sixty harvests?" "Sixty! I am not yet thirty years old! But you must have come from a long way off, not to know who I am." And while rolling the balls with dexterity in the palm of his hand, and making them puff out to the heat of the lamp, he told me his story. His name was Liu Favour-of-heaven. Born and brought up in the capital, he had been promoted six years before to the post of sub-prefect in the town on which our refuge was dependent. When coming to take his post, he stopped at the inn, the same one where we were. The house was full; but he had remarked, on entering, a long pavilion which seemed uninhabited. The landlord, being asked, looked perplexed; he ended by saying that the pavilion had been shut for the last two years; all the travellers had complained of noises and strange visions; probably mischievous spirits lived there. Favour-of-heaven, having lived in the capital, but little believed in phantoms. He found the occasion excellent to establish his reputation in braving imaginary dangers. His wife and his children implored him in vain; he persisted in his intention of remaining the night alone in the haunted house. He had lights brought; installed himself in a big armchair, and placed across his knees a long and heavy sword. Hours passed by; the sonorous noise of the gong struck by the watchman announced successively the hours, first of the Pig, then of the Rat. He grew drowsy. Suddenly, he was awakened by the gnashing of teeth. All the lights were out; the darkness, however, was not deep enough to prevent his being able to distinguish everything confusedly. Anguish seized him; his heart beat with violence; his staring eyes were fixed on the door. By the half-opened door he perceived a round white mass, the deformed head of a monster, who, appearing little by little, stretched long hands with twisted fingers and claws. Favour-of-heaven mechanically raised his weapon; his blood frozen in his veins, he tried to strike the head, whose indistinct features were certainly dreadful. Without doubt the blow had struck, for a frightful cry was heard; all the demons of the inferior regions seemed let loose with this yell; calls were heard from all sides. The trellised frames of the windows were shaken with violence. The monster gained the door. Favour-of-heaven pursued him and threw him down. His terror was such that he felt he must strike and kill. Hardly had he finished than there entered, rolling from side to side, a little being, quite round, brandishing unknown weapons at the end of innumerable small hands. The prefect, with one blow, cut him in two like a watermelon. However, the windows were shaken with growing rage; unknown beings entered by the door without interruption; the prefect threw them down one after another: a black shadow first, then a head balancing itself at the end of a huge neck, then the jaw of a crocodile, then a big bird with the chest and feet of a donkey. Trembling all over, the man struck right and left, exhausted and panting; a cold perspiration overwhelmed him; he felt his strength gradually giving way, when the cock crowed at last the coming of the day. Little by little, grey dawn designed the trellis of the windows, then the sun suddenly appeared above the horizon and darted its rays across the rents in the paper. Favour-of-heaven felt his heart stand still; on the floor inundated with blood, the bodies lying there had human forms, forms that he knew: this one looked like his second wife, and this one, this little head that had rolled against the foot of the table, he would have sworn that it was his last son. With a mad cry he threw away his weapon and ran to open the door, through which the sun poured in. An armed crowd was moving in the yard. "My family! my family! where is my family?" "They are all with you in the pavilion!" But as they were speaking they saw with stupor the hair of the young man becoming white, and the wrinkles of age cover his face, while he remained motionless as well as insensible. They drew near; he rolled fainting on the ground. "And thus," ended the sub-prefect in the silence of the dark hall, where only the little light of the opium-lamp was shining, "I remained several days without knowledge of anything. When I came to myself, I had to bear the sorrow of having killed my whole family in these atrocious circumstances. I resigned my post: I had magnificent tombs built for all those who were killed this fatal night, and, since then, I smoke without ceasing the agreeable drug, in order to fly away from the remembrance, which will haunt me until my last day." _PEACEFUL-LIGHT_ In the time when the Shining Dynasty had just conquered the throne, the eastern coasts of the Empire were ravaged by the rapid junks commanded by the cruel inhabitants of the Japanese islands, the irresistible _Wo tsz_. Now, it happened that the _Wo tsz_ Emperor lost his first wife; knowing the beauty of Chinese women, he charged one of his officers to bring back some of them. The officer, at the head of a numerous troop, landed not far from the town of The-Smoky-wall. No resistance was possible; the population was given the example of flight by the functionaries, at least it was thus said in the Annals of the prefecture. The country being far from the big centres, the women were not great coquettes; only one, named Peaceful-light, had always been careful, since childhood, not to allow her feet to become naturally large; they were constantly bound up, so much so that she could hardly walk. Her large soft eyes were shaded with heavy eyelashes; one of the literati of the place took delight in quoting the poets of antiquity on them: Under the willow of her eyelashes The tranquil river of her eyes shines forth. I bend and see my image reflected in them. Could she be deceitful like the deep water? When the pirates were coming, she begged her family to leave her, and to fly without the risk of being delayed by her. "It is the just punishment for my coquetry," she told them. "Fear nothing for me, however. I am going to take a strong dose of the paste extracted from the flowers of Nao-yang which makes one sleep. The pirates will think I am dead, and will leave me." The family allowed themselves to be persuaded, and departed. As to Peaceful-light, she was asleep almost directly after taking the drug, and she remained motionless on her bed. The pirates, entering everywhere, at last arrived in the house and remained struck with admiration by her beauty. The officer who was called, at first thought her dead and was much grieved, but, touching her hand and finding it warm and limp, he resolved to carry her away. When the ravishers were re-embarked, the strong sea-air and the motion of the boat revived the young girl; she awoke, and was horrified to find herself surrounded by strangers. The one who seemed the chief spoke to her in Chinese language in order to reassure her: "Fear nothing. No harm will come to you. On the contrary, the highest destiny awaits you; my Lord The Emperor designs you to the honour of his couch." Seeing that no one troubled her, Peaceful-light was reassured; she resolved to wait, confident in her destiny, and knowing that she had still, ready in her sleeve, in case of necessity, a narcotic dose strong enough to kill her. As soon as she landed, she was taken in great haste to the Palace. The Emperor, greatly satisfied with her beauty, conferred on her at once the rank of first favourite. But all the luxury and love which surrounded her could not make her forget her family and her country; she resolved to run away. In order to manage it, she complained to her master how sad it was for her never to be able to speak her own language with companions from her country. The Emperor, happy to be able to please her, gave orders to fit out a sea-junk, in order to go to the Chinese coast. The day when all was ready the young girl found means of pouring into her master's drink a dose of her narcotic. Then, when he was asleep, she took his private seal and, going out of the room, she called the intendant of the Palace and said to him: "The Emperor has ordered me to go to China to fetch a magician, a member of my family, who has great power on water and wind. Here is the seal, proof of my mission. The ship must be almost ready." The intendant knew that a junk had been specially prepared to go to China; he saw the seal; what suspicion could he have? He had a palanquin brought as quickly as possible; two hours after, the wood of the junk groaned under the blows of the unfurling waves. Arriving in sight of the coast, on the pretext of not frightening the population, the young girl begged the officer who accompanied her to send a messenger to the prefect of the town, bearing a letter that she had prepared. The officer, without distrust, sent one of his men. The letter of Peaceful-light showed a whole scheme to which the prefect could but give his consent. The messenger returned, bringing to the officer and to the men an invitation to take part in the feast that was being prepared for them, their intentions not being bad. Peaceful-light retired into her family, who welcomed her with a thousand demonstrations of joy. In the wine that was freely poured out for the strangers they had dissolved the flowers of Nao-yang. The effects were not long in being felt; a torpor that they attributed to the table excesses seized them one after another. They were soon all sleeping deeply. Men arrived with swords, glided near them, and, a signal being given, cut off their heads. While these events were passing in China, others still more serious were happening in Japan. Soon after the departure of Peaceful-light, the Emperor's brother penetrated into the room where the sovereign was left sleeping. This brother was ambitious; he profited by the occasion, killed the unhappy Mikado, took possession of the seals of the State, and, calling his partisans in haste, proclaimed himself Chief of the State. Only a part of the princes followed him; the others, filled with indignation by the crime that had been accomplished, united their troops to crush the usurper; civil war tore the whole of Japan to pieces. As to Peaceful-light, by order of the authorities she received public congratulations and gifts of land which allowed her to marry and be happy, as she merited. _HONG THE CURRIER_ "In the time when the Justice of Heaven was actively employed with the affairs of the earth, one of my ancestors had an adventure to which we owe our present fortune, and of which few men of to-day have seen the equal." Thus began my friend Hong; reclining on the red cushions of the big couch, he fanned himself gracefully with an ivory fan painted all over. "Our family, as you know, originally came from the town of The-Black-chain in the province of The-Foaming-rivers. Our ancestor Hong The-just was a currier by trade; he cut and scraped the skins that were entrusted to him. His family was composed only of his wife, who helped him as well as she could. "Notwithstanding this persistent labour, they were very poor; no furniture ornamented the three rooms in the small house that they hired in the Street-of-the-golden-flowers. "When the last days of the twelfth moon in that year arrived, they found they were owing six strings of copper cash to ten different creditors. With all they possessed, there only remained 400 cash. What were they to do? They reflected for a long time. Hong The-just at last said to his wife: "'Take these 400 cash; you will be able to buy rice to live on. As to me, as I cannot pay my debts before the first day of the first moon, I am going to leave the town and hide myself in the mountain. My creditors, not seeing me, will believe you when you tell them that I have been to find money in the neighbouring town. Once the first day of the first moon passed, as law ordains to wait till the following term, I shall then come back, and we shall continue to live as well as we can.' "It was indeed the wisest thing to do. His wife made him a parcel of a blanket and a few dry biscuits. She wept at seeing him go away quite bent, walking with difficulty on the slippery flagstones of the street. "The snow was falling in thick flakes and already covered the grey tiled roofs, when Hong The-just left the city gate and directed his steps to a cave that he knew of in a lonely valley. "He arrived at last, and, throwing his heavy load on the ground, he glanced around him in order to choose the place where he would sleep. "An exclamation of stupor escaped from him when he saw, seated motionless on a stone, a man clothed in a long sable cloak, with a cap of the same fur, looking at him in a mournful, indifferent way. "'How strange!' at last said Hong, laughing. 'Dare I ask your noble name and the reason that brings you to this remote refuge? How is it that you are not with your friends, drinking hot wine and rejoicing in the midst of the luxuriance of the tables covered with various eatables and brilliant lights?' "'My name is Yang Glow-of-dawn. And you, what is your precious name?' replied mechanically the first occupant. "'I am called Hong The-just, and I am here to escape from my creditors.' "'You, also?' sneered Glow-of-dawn. 'The strokes of Fate do not vary much. As for me, I deal in European goods; my correspondents have not settled my accounts and I am in want of nearly a hundred thousand ounces of silver to close the year. None of my friends could advance me the sum, and here I am, obliged to fly away from my creditors.' "'A hundred thousand ounces!' cried The-just. 'With a sum like that I should pass the rest of my days in plenty. Anyhow, struck by the same misfortune, we are thus united; let us try to pass cheerfully the last day of the year, and attempt to imagine that these humble cakes are refined food.' "When they were eating their pastry and drinking water from the near torrent, Glow-of-dawn suddenly said: "'But you, how much do you owe? I have here a few ounces of silver; maybe you could balance your accounts with them.' "'My debts do not exceed six strings of copper cash. But how could I dare accept your offer?' "'Not at all! take these ten ounces; you will pay your debts and bring me here food and wine; that will help me to wait till the end of the festivals.' "The-just, reiterating his thanks, took the ingots that were offered him and went down as quickly as possible towards the town. "His wife, on seeing him and hearing his story, could not restrain her joy. She hurried to go and buy provisions of all kinds. Her husband tried to light the stove, but they had not lit a fire for a long time; he found the chimney filled with soot and dust. "Hong tried to sweep it with a big broom, but the masonry gave way, filling the room with the bricks and rubbish. "'How very annoying!' grumbled the currier. 'Now the stove is destroyed let us take away what remains, and we will make the fire beneath the opening in the roof!' "When his wife returned, he was still working. She put down her basket and helped to raise a huge stone that formed the bottom of the hearth. What was their astonishment in seeing a chest, half-broken, from which big ingots of gold were falling! "'What are we to do with this?' said his wife. 'If we sell this gold, everybody will think that we have stolen it, and we shall be put in prison.' "'We have only one thing to do,' replied Hong. 'Let us entrust our fortune to my companion in the cave; he is a good man. We shall save him, and he will make our money prosper; I will hurry and tell him.' "When Hong arrived, it was nearly nightfall; Yang was standing under flakes of snow at the entrance of the grotto; he received him with reproaches: "'You have come so late that my eyes are sore in looking out for you in vain!' "'Do not abuse me, Old Uncle; drink this wine and eat these cakes that are still warm, and I will tell you what delayed me.' "And while Glow-of-dawn ate and drank, the other told him of his adventure and of his intentions about the treasure. "Surprised and touched, the merchant did not know how to express his wonder and gratitude. They talked over the best way of proceeding to bring the gold and settle the business. "Then, by the glimmer of a bad lantern, they returned to the town and entered the merchant's house. There the currier washed himself, did his hair, and clothed himself in rich garments. A sedan-chair was waiting for him, followed by sturdy servants; he went away.... "The next day Glow-of-dawn's creditors presented themselves at the house of their debtor. He was standing at the entrance, and bowed in wishing them a thousand times happiness. They entered; tea was brought in by busy servants. They at last discussed the settlement of their yearly accounts. The master of the house found out that he owed 180,000 ounces of silver. "'We have been informed that larger sums of silver are due to you, but you know the custom; you must settle everything to-day. In order to save you, we are content to make an estimate of your wealth, your goods and lands.' "'Do not give yourselves such a trouble,' replied the merchant, laughing and waving his hand. 'I thought you would be relentless, so I have been to speak to my elder brother, who has an immense fortune; he has put at my disposal several hundred thousand ounces. But here! I hear the cry of the bearers; it must be him with the chests of white metal.' "The major domo came hurrying in, carrying high in the air the huge red card with the names and surnames written in black. "'The venerable Old Great Uncle The-just has arrived!' "'Allow me?' said Yang, getting up, and going towards the door, of which both sides were open. Hong entered. They made each other a thousand affectionate greetings, as all brothers do who are animated with right feelings. "'Dear elder brother! here are the gentlemen who have come for the settlement of my accounts about which I spoke to you.' "'Gentlemen!' and the currier bowed, not without a certain grace that his new fortune had already given him. 'Well! how much is the total amount? I have brought you ten thousand ounces of gold, which is nearly 350,000 ounces of silver. Will you have enough?' "While he was speaking, bearers were trooping in, and laid down on the ground heavy chests, the lids of which being raised, one could see the bars of precious metal. "The merchants, thunderstruck by all these riches and generosity, remained silent for a moment; then they bowed low and bade the currier sit in the place of honour. "Many delicate and exquisite dishes were brought in of which The-just did not even know the names; sweet wines were handed round in small transparent china cups. "At last the secretaries counted the ingots, and they all returned home paid. When every one had retired, Glow-of-dawn knelt before the currier and, striking the earth with his forehead, he said: "'Now you are my elder brother. You have rescued me, and I henceforth wish you to live here. My house, my properties, everything I possess belongs to you. Your wife is my sister-in-law.' "The currier hurried to raise him up and, much moved, said: "'I do not forget that it is you who saved me when you were still in misfortune. Your good genius has rewarded you. I am only the instrument of Fate.'" _AUTUMN-MOON_ In the town of Sou-tcheou a young man lived called Lake-of-the-Immortals; he was wise and generous. His business consisted in going to fetch goods from neighbouring towns, which he afterwards brought back to his native city. He was thus obliged to be absent for lengthy periods, during which he left his house to the care of an elder brother, a celebrated scholar, who was married, and whom he tenderly loved. Once he had been by the Grand Canal as far as Chen-kiang; the goods he was going to take not being ready, he waited, and to while away the time he visited the Golden Island, whose temples with yellow-tiled roofs show in the verdure above the yellow water of the river, nearly opposite to the town; he passed the night there, as visitors did usually. When he had just fallen asleep, he saw in a dream a young girl, fourteen or fifteen years old, her visage regular and pure. On the second night he had the same dream. Surprised, he awoke; it was no dream; the young girl was there, near to him. At a glance he saw she was no human being; he hastened to get up and, saluting, to ask her the ordinary questions. "My name is Autumn-moon," she replied. "My father was a celebrated magician. When I died, he worked out my future destiny and wrote it down with powerful incantations; this charm has been put into my coffin, so that the inferior authorities should not make any mistake. It was written that, thirty years after my death, I should be called again to life and marry Lake-of-the-Immortals. There you are, and I have come to know my husband." As she said the last words she slowly vanished in the night. The next day, as the young man, disturbed and preoccupied by this strange adventure, was sitting in his room, thinking of her, she appeared suddenly before his eyes and said: "Come quickly! something important for you is going to happen at the prefect's palace. We have not a minute to lose." Lake-of-the-Immortals questioned her, but she would not answer. Then they both crossed the river and walked as fast as they could up to the yamen. As they arrived at the gate, four soldiers, dragging a prisoner, were on the point of entering. Lake-of-the-Immortals recognised his elder brother in the person of the prisoner; he drew near, threw himself on his neck, and pressed him to his heart. "How is it that you are here? why this arrest? And you, soldiers, where do you take him?" "We have orders: what means this interference?" And they pushed the young man aside. Lake-of-the-Immortals was of a violent temper and had a strong affection for his brother; he could not let him go, and answered to the brutality of the soldiers by such a tempest of thumping and kicking that these honest but prudent soldiers asked no more and fled. "What have you done?" said Autumn-moon. "Hitting soldiers is serious; we must fly." And all three, running, arrived at the beach, jumped into a small boat, and rowed with all their strength. When day appeared, they were safely lodged in a small inn, several lis from Chen-kiang. Lake-of-the-Immortals, exhausted, went to sleep immediately. When he awoke, his two companions had disappeared. He asked the innkeeper; nobody had seen them go out. Distressed and sad, the young man did not dare to show himself outside. He remained solitary in his room. When twilight came, his door opened and a woman entered: "I bring you a message from Autumn-moon; she has been arrested. If you wish to see her, you must follow me; I will show you the way." "And my brother? do you know anything?" "Your brother is safe in Sou-tcheou now. But come and follow me." They started and soon arrived before a wall, which they got over by helping one another. Through a window giving on the yard they fell in, the lover perceived Autumn-moon on a bed. Two soldiers were trying to tease her, saying: "What is the use of resisting us, as you will be executed to-morrow morning?" Lake-of-the-Immortals did not hear any more; he rushed into the room, threw himself on the soldiers, tore a sword from them, and laid them on the ground. Before the wretched men had time to make a gesture of defence, he carried away the girl and flew. At this moment he started violently, and found himself in his same room in the Golden Island. A servant entered, bringing the breakfast he had ordered when arriving for the first time, the night before, on the island. As he was asking himself the meaning of such a vivid dream, he heard a noise in the courtyard. Going out, he saw several men surrounding the body of a girl stretched before his door. "Where does she come from?" asked some one. "We have never seen her!" said another. Lake-of-the-Immortals came nearer; it was the body, seemingly senseless, of Autumn-moon. He had her brought immediately into his room. A doctor who had been called declared she was still alive, but needed very careful nursing. When she awoke at last she smiled feebly to the young man. "No, it is no dream," she replied to his questions. "Your brother was called before the King of Hells; you saved him. You have saved me also from eternal disappearance, and I am called again to life; the prediction of my father was true." A fortnight later she was able to get up; they started together and arrived safely at Sou-tcheou. When they got to his brother's house, his sister-in-law told them there had been illness in the house; her husband had been in grave danger of death; he was quite well now. When they were all together, Lake-of-the-Immortals told what he had seen and done. They all listened to him in silence. The family henceforth lived united and happy. _THE PRINCESS NELUMBO_ Gleam-of-day was sleeping; his round face and high forehead denoted the scholar's right intelligence. All of a sudden he saw a man standing before his bed who appeared to be waiting. "What is it?" inquired the sleeper, getting up. "The prince is asking for you." "Which prince?" "The prince of the neighbouring territory." Gleam-of-day, grumbling, got up, put on his court dress and followed his guide. Palanquins were waiting; they started rapidly, and their retinue was soon passing in the midst of innumerable pavilions and towers with pointed roofs. They at last stopped in the courtyard of the palace; young girls with bright clothing were seen, and looked inquiringly at the new-comer, who was announced with great pomp. At last Gleam-of-day reached the audience hall. The prince was seated on the throne; he descended the steps and welcomed his guest according to the rites. "You perfume this neighbourhood," he said. "Your reputation has come to me, and I wished to know you." The servants brought wine; they began to converse nobly and brilliantly. At last the prince asked: "Among the flowers, tell me which one you prefer." "The nelumbo," he replied, without hesitating. "The nelumbo? it is precisely my daughter's surname. What a curious coincidence! The princess must absolutely know you." And he made a sign to one of the attendants, who at once went out. A few minutes after, the princess appeared. She was between sixteen and seventeen years old. Nothing could equal her admirable beauty. Her father ordered her to bow to the scholar and said: "Here is my daughter Nelumbo." Gleam-of-day, looking at her, felt troubled to the depth of his soul. The prince spoke to him; he hardly heard, and replied awkwardly. When the princess had retired, the conversation languished; the prince at last rose and put an end to the interview. During all the way back the young man was ashamed at the same time with his emotion before the girl, as well as his rudeness towards the prince. He was so much troubled that he ordered his retinue to go back to the palace. When he entered the audience hall, he threw himself to the ground before the prince and begged to be excused for his rudeness. "You need not excuse yourself; the sentiment that I read in your eyes is powerful and the thought of it is not unpleasant to me." While Gleam-of-day, happy with this encouragement, was still excusing himself, twenty young girls came running: "A monster has entered the palace; it is a python ten thousand feet long. It has already devoured thirteen hundred persons; its head is like a mountain peak." Every one got up; the frightened guard and the courtiers ran hither and thither, looking where they could hide themselves. The princess and her maids-in-waiting were crying for help. Gleam-of-day at last said to the prince: "I have only three miserable rooms in a cottage, but you will be safe in them. Will you fly there with your daughter?" "Let us go as quickly as possible," replied the prince, seizing the princess by the wrist. They all three ran across the deserted streets. When they arrived, Nelumbo threw herself on the bed, without being able to stop weeping. Gleam-of-day was so moved that he suddenly awoke: everything was a dream. Just then he heard a scream in the next room, where his father slept; there was a struggle, blows, and at last a sigh of satisfaction. The door opened, and the old man was seen pushing an enormous serpent at the end of a stick. When Gleam-of-day turned back to his bed, he found it covered with bees; on the pillow the queen had alighted. _THE TWO BROTHERS_ In the town of Sou-tcheou there lived two brothers. The elder, surnamed Merchant, was very rich; the younger, named Deceived-hope, very poor. They lived side by side, and their houses, the paternal inheritance, were only separated by a low wall. They were both married. This year, the harvest having been bad, Deceived-hope could not afford the necessary rice for his family to live upon. His wife said to him: "Let us send our son to your brother: he will be touched and will give us something, without any doubt." Deceived-hope hesitated, but at last decided to take this step which hurt his pride. When the child returned from his uncle's, his hands were empty. They questioned him: "I told my uncle that you were without rice; he hesitated and looked at my aunt. She then said to me: 'The two brothers live separately; their food also is separate.'" Deceived-hope and his wife did not say a word; they fetched the bale of rice that was still in their corn-loft and lived thus. Now, in the town, two or three vagabonds who knew the riches of Merchant broke open his door one night, and tied him up as well as his wife. As he would not show his treasure, they began burning his hands and feet. Merchant and his wife screamed for help. Deceived-hope heard them and got up in order to run to their house, but his wife held him back, and, approaching the wall which separated them, cried: "The two brothers live separately; their food also is separate." However, as their cries increased, Deceived-hope could not contain himself, and, seizing a weapon, leapt over the wall, fell on the thieves, and dispersed them. Then, when his brother and his sister-in-law were delivered and quieted, he returned home, saying to his wife: "They are certain to give us a present." But, the next day and the days following, they waited in vain! Deceived-hope could not resist the temptation to relate everything to his friends. The same thieves heard of it and, thinking that he would not interfere any more, broke open the door of Merchant the same evening and began again to torture him as well as his wife. Deceived-hope, indeed, did not wish to interfere. However, his heart and his liver were upset by the painful cries of his brother. He could not forbear running to his help. The brigands, disconcerted, flew again, but this time Merchant and his wife were severely burnt; they lost the use of their hands and feet. The next day Merchant said to his wife: "My brother has saved our lives; without him we should be ruined; I am going to give him a part of what we have." "Do nothing of the kind," replied his wife; "if he had come sooner, he would have saved our hands and feet; now, thanks to him, we are infirm." And they did nothing. Deceived-hope, however, wanting money, made an act of sale of his house and sent it to his brother, hoping that he would be touched by his misery and would send back the deed with a present. In fact Merchant was going to send him some silver ingots, but his wife stopped him: "Let us take his house; we shall be able to make ours bigger, and it will be much more convenient." Merchant hesitated a little, but he ended by accepting the act, and sent the price agreed on. Deceived-hope went and settled in another part of the town; with his small capital, he opened a vegetable-shop, which soon prospered. The brigands, having heard that Merchant was now living alone, broke open his door very quietly, tortured him, and then killed him, taking away all he had. In leaving the place, they cried all over the town: "Merchant's corn-loft is open! Let all the poor go and take the rice!" They thus went, one by one, silently, all the poor of the neighbourhood, taking away as much of the heaped-up rice as they could. Soon there was nothing left. Deceived-hope being informed, wished to revenge his brother; he pursued the brigands and killed two of them. From this time it was he who every day attended to the needs of his sister-in-law, now in misery. Some months afterwards, exhausted, she died. Deceived-hope came back and was soon settled in the patrimony that he had recovered. One night he was soundly sleeping, when he saw his brother. "You have saved us twice, and we have been ungrateful. I should not be dead if I had not acted badly with you. I wish to make amends. Under the stone of the hearth you will find five hundred ounces of gold that I had hidden, and of the existence of which my wife was ignorant." Deceived-hope started from his sleep; he told his dream to his wife. She at once got up, drew out the stone of the hearth, and found the mass of gold. Henceforth, happy and rich, they lived long and were charitable and friendly with every one. _THE MARBLE ARCH_ When the troubles began to break out in Hankow, many families were alarmed. Those who were not ignorant of the powerful organisation of the revolutionists left the town as soon as possible, anticipating that it would soon be plundered and burnt. The retired prefect, Kiun, was amongst the first to embark in order to go down the river. His house was situated at several lis from the river, on the confines of the suburbs, outside the fortified enclosure. He had only been married a short time, and was living with his father and mother. When the baggage at last was ready, the bearers fixed it in the middle of their long bamboos and set off two by two, grumbling under the heavy load. The two old people followed; Kiun and his young wife, the charming Seaweed, helped them as well as they could. In order to avoid crossing the centre of the town, they followed the crenellated wall by an almost deserted road. A young man and woman alone were sauntering in the same direction, carrying parcels on their shoulders. "Where are you going to?" they asked, as it is the custom to do between travellers. "As far as the river," replied Kiun. "And you?" "We also," said the young man. "What is your precious name?" "My contemptible name is Kiun. But you, deign to inform me about your family?" "My name is Wang The-king. We are flying from the insurrection." They thus talked while walking in company. Seaweed took the advantage of a moment when the new-comers were a little in front to bend towards her husband. "Do not let us get in the same junk with these strangers. The man has looked at me several times in a rude way; his eyes are unsteady and fickle; I am afraid of him." Kiun made a sign of assent. But when they had arrived on the quay, Wang The-king gave himself so much trouble to find a junk and help to embark the luggage that the prefect, bound by the rites, could not avoid asking him to get on board the boat with him. They unmoored; Wang The-king established himself on the prow with his wife, near the mariners; he spoke a long time with them while they were passing the last houses of the large city. When night fell, they were in a part of the river where it got broader to such an extent that you could no longer distinguish the banks. The wind was blowing rather violently and the unfurling waves projected heavy showers on the mats which covered the quarter-deck. Kiun, uneasy, went to the prow of the boat in order to question the master. The bright moon was rising, lighting the dark line of the bank. They approached in order to throw the anchor. Wang The-king was on the narrow bridge; when Kiun came to his side, he coolly pushed the poor prefect overboard. Kiun's father was two paces behind; Wang ran to him and threw him also into the tumultuous waters of the rapid current. Kiun's mother, hearing a cry and a struggle, went to see what was happening, and she also was precipitated into the foaming river. Seaweed, from the cabin, had seen all; but she took good care not to go outside; she moaned: "Alas! my father-in-law and my mother-in-law are dead! My husband has been killed! I am going to die, too!" While she was crying, Wang The-king entered the cabin. "Fear nothing," said he; "forget those people who are no more and won't come back. I am going to take you home to the city of The-Golden-tombs. There I have fields and houses belonging to me; I will give them to you." The young woman kept back her sobs and said nothing; she thought it wise not to provoke the murderer. Wang The-king, very satisfied with his prospects, went back to the mariners, gave them the greater part of what his victims had brought in silver and luggage; then he quietly took his dinner and retired to his cabin with his wife. The woman had a strange look, but she did not say anything, and they went to sleep. Towards the hour of the Rat, the woman began to groan; then she started out of her sleep and cried to her husband: "Kill me, repudiate me! I can no longer stay with you! Thunder and lightning will strike you! I have dreamt it; I will no longer be the wife of a murderer and a thief!" Wang, furious, struck her. But as she continued, he took her in his arms and threw her into the river. On the second day the boat arrived at The-Golden-tombs. Wang took Seaweed to his family. When his old mother asked what he had done with his first wife, he replied: "She fell in the river, and I will marry this one." They were soon settled in the house. Wang wished to take liberties with Seaweed, who gently drove him back. "We must not neglect the rites. Do not let us forget to empty first the marriage cup." Wang joyously accepted; and soon, seated opposite each other, they began exchanging cups of wine in the ritual way. Seaweed, however, pretended to drink, and tried to make her lover tipsy; she contrived this little by little. Wang, rendered sleepy by the wine, undressed himself, got on the bed, and ordered the young woman to put out the lamps and come to him. She carefully blew the lamps and said: "I will come in a minute!" Then she quickly went to her luggage, took out a sword she had hidden there, and came back. Feeling with her hands in the darkness, she found the throat of the man and struck him as hard as she could: the man screamed and tried to get up; she struck again and again: there was a moaning, a gurgle, and then silence. However, Wang's mother, having heard some noise, came with a lantern. Seaweed killed her before the old woman could even say a word. Then the young woman, having avenged her family, tried to cut her own throat, in order to join her husband. The sword was blunt and she was only able to scratch herself. She then remembered that, outside the house, there was a fairly big pond; she ran out and threw herself into the water. Some neighbours saw her and ran to her help; other people came; lanterns were brought forth; the poor girl at last was taken out of the pond, and brought back to her house. But, when the new-comers entered the room, they saw the bodies and the blood. "Murder! Murder!" cried they. And they immediately sent a boy to call the police. The constables came and looked all over the room; they soon found in Seaweed's luggage a note prepared by the unfortunate woman and stating the truth about her family's death. The assistants were loud in their praise of her act: "She avenged her husband; she has been witty enough to beguile the murderer; and now she has killed herself! Such an act of courage and virtue has not been heard of for centuries. We must ask the authorities to build her a marble arch to commemorate her history, and be an example to future generations." While all this was going on, they tried to revive the woman; everything was done, but in vain. A coffin was then brought in, and the girl transferred to it, covered with her best garments and jewels. The lid was screwed on, and everybody left the house. We must now come back to the evening when Wang pushed into the water Seaweed's husband. Kiun was a strong man and a very good swimmer; surprised by this sudden attack, all he could do at first was to keep his head out of the tumultuous water. He then thought to go back to the boat, but, on the foaming expanse nothing was to be seen; the rapid current had driven him too far. At last the water brought him to a curving beach, where he was able to land. Walking disconsolately on the sand, he saw a human body rolled by the surge; he approached, and recognised his father; farther on he saw his mother; both he dragged out of the water. Most uneasy about his wife, he walked on the river's edge, straining his eyes; the moon was shining; he saw at last a human being holding a big piece of wood. He swam to her, pushed her to the beach, and took her he thought was his wife to the dry sand. He undid the upper garment in order to rub her members; when he saw she was not so cold, he wiped her hair out of her face. His stupor was immense in recognising Wang's wife. The sun rose at last and warmed them. The young woman sighed, opened her eyes, and, completely herself again, told Kiun what she had seen: "My husband is a murderer. In a dream I saw the King-of-Shadows himself sitting behind his tribunal and writing his name on the death-list. Besides, he is in love with your wife. If you wish it, we will go together straight to The Golden-tombs and do what we can to avenge ourselves." Kiun, seeing a man coming to work in a field not far from there, went to him and told him in a few words what had happened; the man led them to his landlord, a rich man, who gave them food and warm dresses, sent men to bring the drowned bodies to a side house and have them properly buried. Then he advanced a certain sum of money to Kiun, who agreed to send it back when he should get to a place where he could find a correspondent of his bankers. Then Kiun and his companion engaged a small boat and went down the river. When they got to The Golden-tombs, they questioned the people in the street about Wang. A month had elapsed since the events we have told of; the first man they questioned looked at them in wonder: "How is it you don't know what happened? Wang is dead; he has been killed by a virtuous woman whose family he had murdered and who killed herself afterwards. You have only to go on; in the first street to your right you will see a new marble arch which has just been erected to commemorate virtuous Seaweed's courageous death." Kiun thought his heart would burst; he dragged his companion to the marble arch and read the inscription. Then he bought a bundle of those imitations of gold and silver ingots made with paper which people burn on the tombs in order to send some money to the dead; he went to the tomb in the place indicated by the inscription. There he reverently knelt, and, after having knocked the ground with his forehead, he burnt the paper-ingots, rose, and went away with Wang's wife. When they were back in their boat, they discussed their plans and resolved to go down the river to Shanghai. They were leaving the harbour, when a small boat crossed their way; two women sat on the bench. One of them reminded Kiun strangely of his late wife. The woman had looked up at him and seemed surprised. The retired prefect, moved by a mysterious strength, pronounced aloud a sentence which used to make his wife laugh when they were together happy in Hankow: "I see wild geese flying high in the sky." Seaweed, when she was alive, used to answer by a phrase which had nothing to do with the first sentence, and had made them laugh very often by its stupidity. The woman in the boat said it too: "The dog wants the cat's biscuit; you quickly shut it in the house." Kiun, wondering whether it was Seaweed's ghost, asked the mariners to go alongside the other boat; he jumped in it; the woman threw her arms round his neck, and they wept together. "Are you alive? or is it only your ghost I hold in my arms?" asked he. "I am alive!" Then she told him her adventures; when she was put into the coffin, she had some jewels on. One of the assistants resolved to steal them; he waited till everybody was gone and the house empty; then he deliberately unscrewed the coffin's lid and rifled what he could. He was trying to take a ring off her hand, when the supposed corpse rose and screamed. The poor man thought his last hour had come and did not move. Seaweed, seeing her jewels in his hands, and seeing the coffin she was in, grasped the situation at a glance. "You want my jewels! Have them if you like; you saved my life, and without you I would have been stifled in this gruesome box." The man at first dared not accept; then he said: "In exchange for your kindness, I will tell you something. In the third house in the first street lives a rich widow; she is alone and would like to adopt a girl; go to her and tell her everything. She will be happy to give you a home." Then he helped her to get out of the coffin, screwed the lid again, and disappeared. Seaweed went straight to the house. The widow received her with the greatest kindness, and asked of her to let everybody believe she was dead; if not, there would have been a lawsuit. Both women, now united by the closest affection, had been out on the river for pleasure's sake when they saw Kiun's bark. The widow, when the explanations were finished, opened her arms to Kiun; she called him her son-in-law. Seaweed asked Wang's wife to be the second wife of her husband. And they all lived long and happy. _THE DUTIFUL SON_ At the foot of the Oriental-Perfume-Mountain, in one of the most beautiful places of this celebrated district, the passers-by could see a small lodge. Chou The-favourable lived there with his mother. He was still young, being only thirty years old, and earned his living in the way so highly praised by the ancient Classics; he cultivated a small field by his house, and every week went to the next market to exchange what he had for what he wanted. Both were very happy, when a calamity befell them; the old mother one morning felt a pain in her right leg. Two or three days afterwards she had there an ulcer that no remedies could cure; everything was tried and everything failed. Day and night she was moaning, turning over in her hard wooden bed. The-favourable forgot to drink and eat, in his anxiety to give his mother the medicines the doctor advised. Several months wore on; the ulcer did not heal. The despair of the son was greater every day; at last, overcome by his fatigue, he fell asleep and dreamt that he saw his father. The old man told him: "You have been a dutiful son. But I must tell you that your mother will not recover if you can't apply to her ulcer a piece of man's fat." Then everything was dissolved like a smoke in the wind. The-favourable awoke and, thinking over his dream, he found it very strange. "What can I do?" thought he. "Man's fat is not easily found in the market. My father would not have appeared to me if this extraordinary medicine was not really the only thing that will cure my mother. Well, I will take a piece of fat of my own body; I have nothing else to do." Then, rising from his bed, he took a sharp knife, and, pulling the skin of his side, he cut a large piece off. His pain was not so great as he had expected it to be, and, what seemed more extraordinary to him, no blood flowed from the wound. He could not see that, from the heaven above, a messenger had come on a cloud, was recording this noble feat on his life's register, and helped him by averting all ordinary sufferance. The-favourable hastened to put the piece of flesh on his mother's ulcer; the pain disappeared immediately, and a few days after the old woman could walk as she used to do; on her leg there remained only a red scar. When she asked what medicine had been employed, The-favourable eluded the answer. But somehow the truth was known in the neighbourhood; the prefect sent a report to the Throne and came himself with a decree of the Emperor, giving a title and an allowance to the dutiful son. _THROUGH MANY LIVES_ Some people remember every incident of their former existences; it is a fact which many examples can prove. Other people do not forget what they learned before they died and were born again, but remember only confusedly what they were in a precedent life. Wang The-acceptable, of the Yellow-peach-blossom city, when people discussed such questions before him, used to narrate the experience he had had with his first son. The boy, at the time he spoke of, was three or four years old. He did not say many words, and some people thought he was dumb. One day, The-acceptable was writing a letter, when he was disturbed by a friend. He put his writing-brush down on the table and left the room. When he came back, his letter was finished, and written much more correctly than he would have believed himself able to do. Besides, he did not remember having finished it. The puzzle did not trouble him very much. Another day the same thing occurred; he left the room, leaving a letter unfinished on the table; when he came back, the letter was nearly ended. Nobody but the boy had been in the room. Troubled and suspicious, he rose and feigned to go away; but he came back immediately and noiselessly. From the door, he saw his boy kneeling on the stool and writing the letter. The little man suddenly saw his father and asked to be forgiven. The father of course laughed: "We all thought you were dumb; if you are such a learned man, the family happiness will be great! How could we punish you?" From that date he had good lessons given to the boy, who very early passed successfully his third degree examination and became one of the most celebrated "Entered among the learned" of his time. When his father asked him whether he remembered what he had been before being what he now was, the boy said that the first life he could remember was that of a young student; he lived in a monastery to save as much as he could of his income. When he died, the King-of-the-Darkness punished him for his stinginess and condemned him to become a donkey in the same monastery he had lived in. He wanted to die, but did not know what to do; the priests loved him and were very careful. One day he was on a mountain road and was tempted to throw himself downhill; but he had a man on his back and was afraid of the punishment the King-of-the-Darkness would inflict upon him if he killed that man. So he went on. Many years passed; he died at last, and was born again as a peasant. But, as he had forgotten nothing of his former lives, he was able to speak a few days after his birth. His father and mother judged the thing highly suspicious and killed him. After that, he was born in the family of Wang The-acceptable. Appreciating the surroundings, and bearing in mind that he had last been killed because he spoke too early, he was very careful this time not to utter a single word. But when he saw the paper and ink he could not resist his love of literature and finished the letter. _THE RIVER OF SORROWS_ Along the path leading to the city of All-virtues, in the obscure night, a poor coolie, grumbling under a heavy load of salt, was trudging on as fast as he could. "I shall never get there before the hour of the Rat, and my wife will say again; 'Wang The-tenth has drunk too many cups of wine.' She does not know the weight of that stuff!" As he was thus thinking, two men suddenly jumped from either side of the road and held him by the arms. "What do you want?" cried the poor man. "I am only an unhappy carrier, and my load is only salt, very common salt." "We don't want your salt, and you had better throw it down. We are sent from the Regions below and we want you to come down with us." "Am I dead already?" asked The-tenth. "I did not know. I must tell my wife. Can't you come again to-morrow night?" "Impossible to wait. You must come immediately. But I don't think you are dead. It is only to work for a few days down below." "This is rather strange," replied The-tenth. "With all the people who have died since the world has been the world you still want living men? We don't go and ask you to do our work, do we?" While thus arguing, he felt himself suffocated by a heavy smell and lost consciousness. When he awoke, he was on the bank of a fairly large river. Hundreds of men were standing in the water; some of them carried baskets; others, with spades and different utensils, were dragging out what they could from the bottom. Soldiers with heavy sticks struck those who stopped even for a second. On the bank several men were standing, and a number of others came from time to time. A magistrate was sitting behind a big red table, turning over the pages of a book. At last, he called "Wang The-tenth." "Wang The-tenth!" repeated the soldiers. And they threw the poor man down in a kneeling position in front of the magistrate, who looked on the book and said: "You have been an undutiful son; do you remember the day when you told your father he was a fool?" Then speaking to the soldiers, he said: "To the river!" The guards pushed the man, gave him a basket, and ordered him to help in the cleaning of the river. The water was red and thick; its stench was abominable; the bodies of the workmen were all red, and The-tenth discovered it was blood. He looked at the first basket he took to the bank; it was only putrid flesh and broken bones. Thus he worked day by day without stopping. When he was not going fast enough, the guards struck him with their sticks, and their sticks were bones. In the deep places he had to put his head into the water and felt the filthy stuff fill his nostrils and mouth. Among the workers he recognised many people he used to know. A great number died and were carried away by the stream. At last two guards called his name, helped him to the bank, and suddenly he found himself again on the path leading to the city of All-virtues. Now, on the night when The-tenth was taken away, his wife waited for him. Troubled not to see him, she started as soon as the sun beamed, and looked for him on the road. She soon found his body lying unconscious. Trying in vain to revive him, she thought him dead, and wept bitterly. Not being strong enough to bring home his body, she came back to town in order to ask the help of her family. In the afternoon, clad in the white dress of mourning, and accompanied by her four brothers, she started again. What was her astonishment and fear when, approaching the place where she had found the body, she saw her husband walking towards her. He was all covered with blood, and the stench was so strong that everybody pinched his nose. When he had explained what had happened, they all returned to the village. The-tenth knelt reverently before his ancestors' tablet, offered butter and rice, and burnt incense. This very day he asked a Taoist priest what was the river he had worked in. The priest explained to him it was called the River-of-sorrows. It took its source in the outer world in every tear that was shed. The people that killed themselves out of despair were floated down its stream to the kingdom of shadows. Sometimes the sorrows on earth were so great that people killed themselves by thousands and did not shed any tears; the blood then was too thick to wash away the decayed remains, and the river-bed had to be cleaned lest it should overflow and drown the whole world. Living men alone were employed in this work, for only living men can cure living men's sorrows. _THE MYSTERIOUS ISLAND_ In the beautiful Chu-san archipelago there is a small island where the flowers never cease blooming, and where the trees grow thick and high. From the most remote antiquity nobody has been known to live in the shade of this virgin forest; the ferns, the creepers, are so entangled that it is impossible for a man to cross this wilderness without clearing his way with a hatchet. A young student named Chang, who lived in the City-over-the-sea, used to rest himself from his daily labour by going out to sea in a small junk he managed himself. Having heard of the mysterious island, he resolved to explore it, prepared wine and food, and sailed out on a beautiful summer's morning. Towards midday he neared the place where the island was supposed to be. Soon a delicious perfume of flowers was brought to him by the hot breeze. He saw the dark green of the trees over the light green of the sea, and, when still nearer, the yellow sand of the beach, where he resolved to disembark. The junk touched the shore; he tied it to a large fallen tree whose end dipped into the gentle waves, and proceeded at once to a hearty meal. While he was storing again in the boat what remained of his provisions, he was suddenly startled by a subdued laugh. Turning his head, he saw among the wild roses of the shore, a young girl covered with a long blue dress, who looked at him with dark eyes full of flame. "Your servant is most happy to see you here. I did not suppose I should ever have the pleasure of meeting you." "Who are you?" asked Chang, forgetting, in his astonishment, the proper forms of inquiry. "I am only a poor singer who has been brought here by The-Duke-of-the-sea." Chang, hearing these words, was afraid in his heart; The-Duke-of-the-sea was a renowned pirate who used to plunder every village of the coast, and was reputed to be cruel and vindictive. But the girl was so attractive that he soon forgot everything in the pleasure of her chatter. Seated at the foot of a big tree, they were laughing, when a noise came from the forest. "It is The-Duke-of-the-sea! It is The-Duke-of-the-sea!" murmured the girl. "I must be off at once." And she disappeared behind the foliage. While Chang was asking himself what he should do, he suddenly saw a huge snake coming straight to him. Its body was as thick as a cask, and so long that the end was still hidden in the forest, while the head was balancing over the frightened student. Chang could not say a word and dared not move: the snake entwined himself round a tree and round the man, holding fast its prisoner's arms. Then, lowering its head, it threw out its tongue, and, pricking the student's nose, began to suck the blood which came out and fell on the ground. Chang saw that, if he did not immediately free himself, he would certainly die. Feeling cautiously with his hand round his waist, he took from his purse a certain poisoned pill that he kept there and intended to try on wolves and foxes. With two fingers he took the pill and threw it into the red pool at his feet. The snake, of course, sucked it with the blood; it immediately stopped drinking, straightened its body, and rocked its head to and fro, knocking the tree-trunks and hissing desperately. Chang, feeble and hardly able to stand, dragged himself as fast as he could out of reach on to the beach and quickly untied his boat. Nevertheless, before going out to sea, he fetched a sword and went cautiously into the wood again. The snake did not move. Chang flourished his sword, and with a mighty stroke cut the head off and ran to his boat. He returned to the City-over-the-sea, went to bed and was ill for a month. When he spoke of his experience, he always said that, to his mind, it was the beautiful girl he had seen at first who had come again in the form of a snake. _THE SPIRIT OF THE RIVER_ In a small village along the river Tsz lived a fisherman named Siu. He started every night with his nets, and took very great care not to forget to bring with him a small jar of spirits. Before throwing his cast-net, he drank a small cup of the fragrant liquor and poured some drops into the slow current, praying aloud: "O Spirit-of-the-river, please accept these offerings and favour your humble servant. I am poor and I must take some of the fishes that live in your cold kingdom. Don't be angry against me and don't prevent the eels and trouts coming to me!" When every fisherman on the river brought back only one basket of fishes, he always proudly bore home a heavy charge of two or three baskets full to the brim. Once, on a rosy dawn of early spring, when the sun, still below the horizon, began to eat with its golden teeth the vanishing darkness, he said aloud: "O Spirit-of-the-river! For many years, every night I have drunk with you a good number of wine-cups; but I never saw your face; won't you favour me with your presence? We could sit together, and the pleasure of drinking would be much greater." Hardly had he finished these words when, from the middle of the stream, emerged a beautiful young man clothed in pink, who slowly walked on the smooth surface of the limpid water, and sat on the boat's end, saying: "Here I am." The fisherman, being half-drunk, was not troubled in any way; he bowed to the young man, offered him, with his two hands, a cup of the strong wine, and said: "Well! I long wished to receive your instructions, and I am very glad to see you. You must be mighty tired of living in that water; the few drops of wine I pour every night are quite lost in such a quantity of tasteless liquid. You had better come up every night; we will drink together and enjoy each other's company." From this day, when darkness closed in, the Spirit waited for the fisherman and partook of his provisions. As soon as the sun rose above the horizon he suddenly disappeared. The fisherman did not find that very convenient; he asked his companion if he could not arrange to stay with him sometimes in the daytime. "Impossible; we can't do such a thing, we spirits and ghosts. We belong to the kingdom of shadows. When the shadows, fighting the daylight, bring with them the Night, we are free to go and wander about. But as soon as the herald of the morn, the cock, has proclaimed the daily victory of the sun, we are powerless and must disappear." On the same day the fisherman was sitting on the bank, smoking a pipe before going home with his baskets, when he saw a woman holding a child in her arms and hastening along the river towards a ford some hundred yards up stream. She was already in the water, when she missed her footing, fell into the river, and was rolled away by the stream. The child, by some happy chance, had fallen on the bank and lay there, crying. The fisherman could easily have gone in his boat and saved the woman, who was still struggling to regain the bank, but he was a prudent man: "This woman, whom I don't know, seems to be beautiful," thought he. "Maybe it is my friend The-Spirit-of-the-river who has arranged all this, and chosen the girl to be his wife. If I prevent her going down to his cold lodgings, he will be angry and ruin my fishing. All I could do is to adopt this boy until somebody comes and asks for him." And he did not move, until the poor woman had disappeared in the yellow stream; then he took the child. Once back in the village, he inquired about the mother; nobody could tell who she was. The days passed and nobody asked for the boy. This was strange enough, but, stranger still, from this day the fisherman never saw The-Spirit-of-the-river again. He offered him many cups of wine, and his fishing was as good as ever, but though he prayed heartily, his companion of so many nights did not appear any more. When the boy was three years old he insisted on accompanying his adopted father in his night fishing. Summer had come; the cold was no more to be feared. The man consented to take his adopted son with him; they started together in the twilight. As soon as the darkness closed, the boy's voice changed; his appearance was different. "What a silly man you are!" said he. "Don't you know me now? For more than two years I waited for an opportunity to tell you who I was. But you always went out at night and you never came back before the sun was high in the sky. You had never failed to present your offerings; so I could not resist your prayer when you asked me to stay with you in the daytime. Now, here I am, till your death; when the sun is up I shall only be your son, but when the night closes I shall be your companion, and we will enjoy together what longevity the Fate allows you." _THE-DEVILS-OF-THE-OCEAN_ In the twenty-second year of the period Eternal-happiness, the population of Chao-cheou's harbour, awaking on a bright summer's morning, were extremely surprised and frightened to see, swaying on the blue water of the bay, a strange and abnormally huge ship. The three high masts were heavily loaded with transversal pieces of wood, from some of which sails were still hanging; another mast projected horizontally from the prow, and three sails were tightened from this to the foremast. A small boat was lowered from the ship's side and rowed to the quay. Several hundreds of people were watching the proceedings, asking one another if it was a human invention or a ship coming from the depths of hell. The small boat stopped at a short distance from the bank; one could see that, beside the rowers, there were three men seated in the stern; their heads were covered with extraordinarily long and fluffy grey hair; they wore big hats with feathers of many colours. A Chinaman was in the boat and hailed the people: "Ha! Please tell the local authorities that high mandarins from the ocean want to speak to them. We are peaceful. But if you do any harm to our men or ships, our wrath will be such that we will destroy in one day the whole town and kill everybody within ten miles' distance." Three or four men belonging to the Yamen had heard these words; they ran to the prefect's palace and came back with an answer they delivered to the new-comers: "His Excellency the prefect consents to receive your visit. If you are peaceful, no harm will be done to you. But if you steal anything, or wound or kill anybody, the laws of our country will be enforced upon you without mercy." Then the boat slowly accosted the quay; two of the men with feathered hats disembarked with the Chinaman, while six of the rowers, leaving their oars in the boat, shouldered heavy muskets, and cleared the way, three walking in front of the feathered hats and three behind. The rowers wore small caps and had long blue trousers and very short blue coats. The prefect, in his embroidered dress, awaited them on the threshold of his reception-room. He bade the new-comers be seated and asked their names and their business; the Chinaman translated the questions and the answers. "We come from the other side of the earth." "Well," thought the prefect. "I was sure of it, the earth being square and flat, the other side of it is certainly hell. What am I to do?" "We only want to trade with your countrymen. We will sell you what goods we have brought; we will buy your country's productions, and if no harm is done we will sail away in a few days." "Our humble country is very poor," answered the prefect. "The people are not rich enough to buy any of the splendid goods you may have brought. Besides, this country's products are not worth your giving any money for them. If I can give you good advice, you had better sail away to-day and get to the first harbour of the northern province; there they are very rich." "We have just come from it; they told us the very reverse. Here, according to them, we should be able to find everything we want. Besides, our mind is settled; we will remain here long enough to buy what we want and to sell what we can. We are very peaceful people as long as one deals justly with us. But if you try to beguile us, we will employ all our strength in the defence of our rights. All we want is a place on shore where we can store and show our goods." "Well, well; I never intended to do anything of the sort," said the prefect. "But the Emperor is the only possessor of the soil. How could I give you a place even on the shore?" "We don't want very much, and the Emperor won't know anything. Give us only the surface of ground covered by a carpet, and we will be satisfied." Chinese carpets are not more than two or three feet broad and five or six feet wide. The prefect thought he could not be blamed to authorise the foreigners to settle on such a small piece of ground; on the other hand, if he refused, there would ensue trouble and he would certainly be cashiered. "It is only as a special arrangement and by greatly compromising with the law that I can give you this authorisation." And the prefect wrote a few words on one of his big red visiting-cards. The interpreter carefully perused the document. Then the foreigners went back to their ship. The same day a proclamation was issued and pasted on the walls of the public edifices, explaining to the people that The-Devils-of-the-ocean had been authorised to settle on a piece of ground not bigger than a carpet and that no harm should be done to them. In compliance with these orders, nobody dared oppose the foreigners when they began unrolling on the shore a carpet ten yards broad and thirty yards long. When the carpet was unrolled, The-Devils-of-the-ocean put themselves in ranks with muskets and swords on the carpet; nearly five hundred men stood there close to one another. The prefect, who had personally watched the proceeding, was so angry against the foreigners for their cunningness that he immediately ordered troops to drive them out into the water. But the foreigners had a devilish energy nobody could resist; they killed a great many of our people, burned the greater part of the city, and occupied for several years all the northern part of the bay, where they erected a sort of bazaar and a fortress, which still exist to this day. _UNKNOWN DEVILS_ Suen Pure-whiteness was privileged with the possibility of seeing distinctly all the creatures of the other world, who, for the greater part of humanity, remain always mysterious and invisible. One night he slept in a mountain monastery; he had closed and barred the door; the full moon illuminated the window; everything was quiet. He had slept an hour, when he was awakened by the hissing of the wind; the gate of the monastery seemed to be thrown open; after a while the door of his room was shaken, the bar dropped down, and the heavy wood turned on its hinges. Pure-whiteness thought at first that it would be better to close his eyes and to wait; but his curiosity was aroused, he looked intently; after a few seconds he could see a big devil, so big that he was obliged to stoop in order not to break his head against the ceiling, and who was coming slowly towards the bed. His face had the colour and general appearance of an old melon. His eyes were full of lightning and his mouth was bigger than a tub. His teeth were at least three inches long and his tongue kept moving incessantly, while he uttered a sound like "Ha-la." Pure-whiteness was much afraid; but, seeing he had no way of escape, he took a short sword from under his pillow and, with all his might, thrust it into the devil's breast; it sounded as if he had struck a stone. The devil hissed in a fearful way; he extended his claws to catch the man. Pure-whiteness jumped on the right side; the devil could only catch his dress and started; the man hastened to unfasten his dress; he dropped and remained there on all fours, motionless and mute. When the devil's steps ceased to be heard he screamed for help; the priests came with lamps; everything was in order, but in the bed Pure-witeness was yelling as in a nightmare. On another day Pure-whiteness was in the country enjoying the pleasures of harvest. The golden rice was piled high and everybody was busy. Some armed men had been posted here and there, according to the custom; everybody knows that when the rice is ripened in a place, people of the neighbouring villages are always looking for an opportunity to make the harvest themselves or to take away what has been cut by the owners. Pure-whiteness, tired by the heat, laid down behind a rice-stack; after a while he heard stealthy steps; raising his head, he saw a big devil more than ten feet high, with hair and beard of a fierce reddish colour, who was approaching. Pure-whiteness yelled for help: men with spears came to the rescue. The devil bellowed like the thunder and flew away. Pure-whiteness told them what he had seen; nobody would believe him, but they nevertheless started in pursuit; people working in the fields all round had not seen anything, so everybody came back. The second day Pure-whiteness was among four or five men, when he saw the same devil. "He has come back!" cried he, flying away. The other people ran away too. When they came back, everything was quiet. But they always kept by their side some spears, bows and arrows, and swords. For two or three days, they had no trouble; the rice was being stored in the granaries, when Pure-whiteness, looking up, screamed: "The devil has come back!" Everybody ran to his arms. Pure-whiteness fell down; the devil picked him up, bit his head, threw him down, and went away. When the man came back, Pure-whiteness bore the marks of teeth on his head; he did not know anybody. Taken home and nursed, he remained unconscious for a few days and died. _CHILDLESS_ In the city of The-Great-name lived a rich idler named Tuan Correct-happiness. He had then attained the age of forty and still he had no son. His wife, Peaceful-union, was extremely jealous, so that he dared not openly buy a concubine, as law authorised him, to continue his lineage. When he saw that, at forty, he had no son, he secretly bought a young girl, whom he carefully left outside his own house. A woman is not easily deceived--a jealous woman especially; Peaceful-union soon discovered the whole truth. She had the girl brought before her and took advantage of an impertinent answer to have her beaten a hundred blows; after that, she turned on her husband and drove him nearly mad with reproaches. What could the poor man do? He sold his concubine to a neighbouring family named Liu, and peace was restored in the house. The days and years passed on without any change in the situation; the nephews of Correct-happiness, seeing that he was old already and had no son, began to fawn upon him, each of them trying to be the one that would be elected as an adopted son to continue the family cult, as is the custom. Peaceful-union at last began to see her error and regretted bitterly what she had done. "You are only sixty years old," said she to her husband. "Is it too late? Let us buy two chosen girls who will be your second wives; maybe one of them will give you a son." The old man smiled sadly; he did not entertain any great hope; nevertheless, the concubines were bought. After a year, to the great surprise and joy of everybody, both gave birth--one to a girl, the other to a boy. But both children died a few months after. Correct-happiness, when winter set in, caught a cold and was soon in a desperate state of health. His nephews were always beside him; but, seeing he would adopt neither of them, they began looting the house; they found at last the treasure and took it away openly. The moribund was too ill even to know what they did. Peaceful-union tried in vain to stop them. "Will you leave me to die of hunger? I am the wife of your uncle. I am entitled to a part of his riches." But they would not hear her. "If you had borne a son to our uncle, or if he had adopted one of us, we would not have touched a single copper cash of his treasure; but, through your own fault, he has nobody to maintain his rights; we take what is our own." When the day ended, the widow found herself alone in the deserted and emptied house, crying over the body of her dead husband. Suddenly she heard steps outside the door; a young man appeared on the threshold, his eyes full of tears, covered with the white dress of mourning. He entered, kneeled beside the corpse, and, knocking the ground with his forehead, he began the ritual lamentations. Peaceful-union stopped crying and looked at him with astonishment; she did not know him. "May I ask your noble name? Who are you to cry over my husband's death?" "I am the deceased's only son." The widow started with surprise and a pang of her old jealousy; would her husband have had a son without her knowing it? But the next words of the young man explained everything. Twenty years ago, when she had beaten and sold away the first concubine of her husband, she did not know the girl bore already the fruit of this short union. Six months later she had a son, to whom she gave the name of Correct-sadness; but, bearing in mind the bad treatment she had received, she asked the Liu family to keep the child as one of their own. They consented and sent the boy to school with their children. When Correct-sadness was eighteen, the chief of the Liu family died; the family dispersed, and only a small legacy was left to the young man. Believing he was a member of the family, he could not understand what happened, and asked his mother; she told him the truth. Resenting the hard treatment inflicted on his mother, he awaited the death of his father to make his own identity known. Peaceful-union was very happy to hear this story. "I am no more without a son," said she. "All that my nephews have taken away, treasure and furniture, they must bring back again. If not, the magistrate will send them to die in jail." In fact, the nephews refused to give back anything. The widow began a lawsuit; everything at last was restored to the legal heir. Peaceful-union hastened to choose him a wife, and as soon as the matrimonial festivities were ended she told her daughter-in-law: "My dear child, if I were you, I would ask Correct-sadness to buy immediately one or two good concubines; if you have a son and they have also, so much the better, but you can't realise how difficult to bear it is to be childless." _THE PATCH OF LAMB'S SKIN_ In the twenty-fourth year K'ang-hsi lived in a remote district of the western provinces, a man who could remember his former lives. He was now a "tsin-shi," "entered-among-the-learned," renowned, and much considered by his friends. When speaking of the existences he had gone through, he used to say: "As far as I remember, I was first a soldier--it was in the last days of the Ming dynasty; my regiment was encamped at The-Divided-roads on the Ten-thousand-miles-great-wall. My remembrances are not very clear as to whom we fought with, but I remember the joy of striking the enemy, the hissing of the arrows, the yelling of the charging troops. "I was still young when I was killed. After death, of course I was called before the tribunal of The-King-of-shadows. Closing my eyes, I can still see the big caldrons full of boiling oil for the trying of criminals; the Judge in embroidered dress seated behind a red table; the satellites everywhere, ready to act on the first word,--in fact, everything exactly the same as in the worldly tribunals, excepting that, in the eastern part of the hall, there were huge wooden stands from which hung skins of every description--horse-skins, lambs' skins, dogs' skins, and human skins of every age and condition; skins of old men, of fat and important people, of lean and shrivelled men, of boys and girls. "The trial began; the souls, according to their deeds, were condemned to put on one of the skins and to come up again to the Lighted World in this new shape. "When my turn came I was sentenced to put a dog's skin on; and in this low shape I was thrown again in the stream of life. But as I had not forgotten my former condition, I was so ashamed, that the first day I came on earth I threw myself under the wheels of a heavy carriage and died. "The-King-of-shadows was extremely surprised to see me again so soon; the dogs, as a rule, having no conscience, he could not suppose I had killed myself, and did not hold me responsible for it. "This time, I was born again as a pig. Pigs are valuable, and there are always people to look after them; so I could not kill myself. I tried to starve myself to death, but hunger was the strongest, and I had to endure such a life. Happily, the butcher soon put a speedy end to it. "When my name was called to the tribunal of Darkness, the King-of-shadows looked over the pages of the Book and said: "'He must be a lamb now.' "The runners took a white lamb's skin, brought it, and began putting it over my body. While this was going on, the secretary, who was writing the sentence in the Book, started and said to the Judge: "'Your Honour, there is a mistake. Please Your Honour read over again; this soul has to be a man now.' "You know that, on the Big Book of Shadows, all our past deeds are recorded as well as our future destiny. "The Judge looked at it over again and said: "'True! Happily, you saw the mistake.' "Then, turning to the runners, he ordered them to take off the skin, which already covered more than half my body. They had to exert all their strength, and even so, they tore it off into pieces. It hurt me so much that I thought I could not stand it and I should die; but I was dead, and I could not die more than that. "At last they left me bleeding and panting, and I was born again in my present condition. But they had forgotten a piece of lamb's skin on my right shoulder, and I still have it now." And he uncovered his arm and shoulder to show a piece of white woollen hair on his right shoulder. _LOVE'S-SLAVE_ In the City-between-the-rivers lived a young student named Lan. He had just passed successfully his second literary examination, and, walking in the Street-of-the-precious-stones, asked himself what he would now do in life. While he was going, looking vacantly at the passers-by, he saw an old friend of his father, and hastened to join his closed fists and to salute him very low, as politeness orders. "My best congratulations!" answered the old man. "What are you doing in this busy street?" "Nothing at all; I was asking myself what profession I am now to pursue." "What profession? Which one would be more honourable than that of teacher? It is the only one an 'elevated man' _Kiu-jen_ of the second degree, can pursue. By the by, would you honour my house with your presence? My son is nearly eighteen. He is not half as learned as he should be, and, besides, he has a very bad temper. I feel very old; if I knew you would consent to give him the right direction and be a second father to him, I would not dread so much to die and leave him alone." Lan bowed and said: "I am much honoured by your proposition, and I accept it readily. I will go to-morrow to your palace." Two hours after, a messenger brought to the young man a packet containing one hundred ounces of silver, with a note stating that this comparatively great sum represented his first year's salary. In the evening he knocked at his pupil's door and was ushered into the sitting-room. The old man introduced him to the whole family: first his son, a lad with a decided look boding no good; then a young and beautiful girl of seventeen, his daughter, called Love's-slave. Lan was struck by the sweet and refined appearance of his pupil's sister. "The sight of her will greatly help me to stay here," thought he. The next morning, when his first lesson was ended, he strolled out into the garden, admiring here a flower and there an artificial little waterfall among diminutive mountain-rocks. Behind a bamboo-bush he suddenly saw Love's-slave and was discreetly turning back, when she stopped him by a few words of greeting. Every day they thus met in the solitude of the flowers and trees and grew to love each other. Lan's task with his pupil was greater and harder than he had supposed; but for Love's-slave's sake, he would never have remained in the house. After three months the old man fell ill; the doctors were unable to cure him; he died, and was buried in the family ground, behind the house. When Lan, after the funeral, told his pupil to resume his lessons, he met with such a reception that he went immediately to his room and packed his belongings. Love's-slave, hearing from a servant what had happened, went straight to her lover's room and tried to induce him to stay. "How can you ask that from me?" said he. "After such an insult, I would consider myself as the basest of men if I stayed. I have 'lost face'; I must go." The girl, seeing that nothing could prevail upon his resolution, went out of the room, but silently closed and locked the outer gate. Lan left on a table what remained of the silver given him by the old man, and wrote a note to inform his pupil of his departure. When he tried the gate and found it locked, he did not know at first what to do. Then he remembered a place where he could easily climb over the enclosure, went there, threw his luggage over the wall, and let himself out in this somewhat undignified way. Before going back to his house, he went round to the tomb of the old man and burnt some sticks of perfume. Kneeling down, he explained respectfully to the dead what had happened and excused himself for having left unfinished the task he had undertaken. Rising at last, he went away. The next morning Love's-slave, pleased with her little trick, came to the student's room and looked for him; he was nowhere to be found. She saw the silver on the table, and, reading the note he had left, she understood that he would never come back. Her grief stifled her; heavy tears at last began running down her rosy cheeks. She took the silver, went straight to her father's tomb, fastened the heavy metal to her feet, and unrolled a sash from her waist. Then, making a knot with the sash round her neck, she climbed up the lower branches of a big fir-tree, fastened the other end of the coloured silk as high as she could and threw herself down. A few minutes afterwards she was dead. She was discovered by a member of the family, and quietly buried in the same enclosure. Lan, who did not know anything, came back two or three days after to see her. The servants told him the truth. Silently and sullenly, he went to the tomb, and long remained absorbed in his thoughts; dusk was gathering; the first star shone in the sky. All of a sudden, hearing a sound as of somebody laughing, he turned round. Love's-slave was before his eyes. "I was waiting for you, my love," she said in a strange and muffled voice. "Why are you coming so late?" As he wanted to kiss her, she stopped him: "Oh dear! I am dead. But it is decreed that I will come again to life if a magician performs the ceremony prescribed in the Book-of-Transmutations." Immaterial like an evening fog, she disappeared in the growing darkness. Lan returned immediately to the town, and, entering the first Taoist temple he saw, he explained to the priest what he wanted. "If she has said it is decreed she should come back to life, we have only to go and open her tomb, while here my disciples will sing the proper chapters of the Book. Let us go now." Giving some directions to his companions, he took a spade and started with Lan. The moon was shining, so that without any lantern they were able to perform their gloomy task. Once the heavy lid of the coffin was unscrewed and taken off, the body of the young girl appeared as fresh as if she had been sleeping. When the cold night-air bathed her face, she raised her head, sneezed, and sat up; looking at Lan, she said in a low voice: "At last, you have come! I am recalled to life by your love. But now I am feeble; don't speak harshly to me; I could not bear it." Lan, kissing her lovingly, took her in his arms and brought her to his house. After some days she was able to walk and live like ordinary people do. They married and lived happily together for a year. Then, one day, Lan, having come back half-drunk from a friend's house, was rebuked by her, and, incensed, pushed her back. She did not say a word but, fainting, she fell down. Blood ran from her nostrils and mouth; nothing could recall her departing spirit. _THE LAUGHING GHOST_ Siu Long-mountain was one of the most celebrated students of the district of Perfect-flowers. Having mastered the mysterious theories of the ancient Classics, he took a fancy in the researches of the Taoist magicians, whose temples may be found in the smallest villages of the Empire. He soon discovered that, for the greater number, they were impostors; and, being proud of his newly acquired science, he concluded that none of them possessed any occult power. When he came to this somewhat hasty conclusion, he was seated alone in his library; the night was already advancing; a small oil lamp hardly illuminated his books on the table he was sitting at. "Yes, there is no doubt; nothing exists outside the material appearances. There is nothing occult in the world, and nothing can come out of nothingness." As he was saying these words half aloud, he was startled by an unearthly laugh which seemed to come from behind his back. He turned quickly round; but nothing was to be seen. His heart beating, he was listening intently; the laugh came from another part of the room. Long-mountain was brave, but as people are brave who have only met the ordinary dangers of civilised life, such as barking dogs, insulting coolies, or angry dealers presenting a long-deferred bill. He tried in vain to believe it was only a joke imposed on him by some friend; nothing could prevail upon his growing terror. Straining his eyes, he looked at the part of the room the laugh seemed to come from. At first he could not see anything, but by degrees he perceived a black shadow moving in a corner, then a strange form with a horse's head and a man's body, all covered with long black hair; the teeth were big and sharp as so many mountain-peaks. The eyes of this dreadful creature began shining so much that the whole room was illuminated. Then it began moving towards the man. This was too much; the student screamed like a dying donkey, and, bursting the door open, he ran out into the courtyard. From an open door in the western pavilion a ray of light crossed the darkness; four or five men were playing cards, drinking, and swearing. Long-mountain ran into their room, and, panting, explained his vision. The men, being drunk, wanted to see the Thing; holding lanterns and lamps, they accompanied their visitor back to his studio. When they passed the doorway, Long-mountain screamed again; the Thing was still there. He would have run away had not the men, laughing and jesting, shown him what the Ghost in reality was--a long dress hung in a corner to a big hook, on which sat a black cat mewing desperately. When the men closed the door and left him alone, the student was deeply ashamed of his terror; shaken by his emotion, he went to bed and tried to sleep. Sleep would not come; his nervousness seemed to increase. Starting at the smallest noise, he remained a long time wide awake; then he lost consciousness. In the silence one only heard the cries of the night-birds and the buzzing of the autumn's insects; the lamp was out, but a brilliant moon began to pour its silver light through the window. The door suddenly creaked; Long-mountain awoke and sat up on his bed; the door slowly opened, and the same Thing he had seen and heard entered the room and advanced towards the bed, while the same unearthly laugh came from the long and unshapely head; the flaming eyes were fixed on the student. When the Thing was near the bed, Long-mountain fell heavily and did not move any more. The Ghost stopped, put his hand on the breast of the man, remained in that position a moment, then went quickly and silently out of the room. A man was standing outside. "What did he say?" asked he. "Be quiet!" said the Ghost, taking off his horse's head and discovering a man's very serious face. "The joke was good. But we have done it too well. I think he is dead of terror; we had better be as silent as a tomb about all this. The magistrate would never believe in a joke; we would be held responsible for this death and pay a heavy penalty." THE END _Printed by Hazell, Watson, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesbury, England._ 
42026	----	Gutenberg. ENGLISH-BISAYA GRAMMAR In Twenty Eight Lessons. Abridged from the Grammars Of the Recoleto Fathers, Guillen, Nicolas and Zueco And translated into English for the use of the American people By R. P. Fr. Pedro Jimenez Recoleto. Cebú--1904 Imprenta de «El Pais» NOS DON SEVERINO PICZON Y QUINTO, PRESBITERO PROVISOR VICARIO GENERAL Y GOBERNADOR ECLESIASTICO DEL OBISPADO DE CEBU S.V. Por el tenor de las presentes y por lo que á nos toca, damos licencia para que pueda imprimirse y publicarse la Gramática Anglo-Visaya escrita por el R.P.Fr. Pedro Gimenez, Recoleto, atento á que según lo manifestado por el M.R. Vicario Provincial de la órden, ha sido censurada por dos Religiosos de la misma, que la han juzgado digna de que se dé á la estampa, no conteniendo cosa alguna contraria á la fé y buenas costumbres, y mandamos que se inserte este nuestro permiso al principio de cada ejemplar. Dadas en Cebú, firmadas de nuestra mano, selladas con el de nuestro oficio y refrendadas por el infrascrito Secretario de Gobierno á treinta de Enero de mil novecientos cuatro. SEVERINO PICZON. (Hay un sello) (Hay una rúbrica) Por mandado de SS. el Sr. Gobernador Eclesiástico. JUAN P. GORORDO (Hay una rúbrica.) PREFACE In presenting this English-Bisaya Grammar I do not pretend to be considered an author, my only aspiration is to be useful to my American brethren in the priesthood, in order that they in turn, may be so to the Bisaya people. The priest for the Bisaya people must be one who will devote all his attention to them, live among them, study their ways, their character, their tendencies, and therefore, the study of their dialect is absolutely necessary to him, since they, for the most part, do not know how to speak either Spanish or English. In preparing this compilation I have used every effort to do it as well as possible, but I am only a pupil in both the English and Bisaya languages, and I believe, the work is not as perfect as would be desired, but I indulge a hope that the kindness of my readers will excuse my faults. BISAYA ALPHABET. The letters made use of in the Bisaya alphabet, are twenty in number as follows: A. Ah. N. Ai-nay. B. Bay. Ng. Ai-ngay. C. Thay. Ñ Ai-nyay. D. Day. O. Oh. E. A or ay. P. Pay. G. Hay. Q. Coo. H. Atchay. S. Es say. I. EE. T. Tay. L. Ai-lay. U. OO. M. Ai-may. Y. EE (griega). The vowels are A, E, I, O, U, and Y at the end of a word. The vowels are never silent, except U in the syllables que, qui, the sound of which corresponds to that heard in the English words Kedge, Keep, Key. A sounds always like A in alam. B sounds like B in back C before a, o, u, sounds like K in English, as--caadlaoon--The dawn of the day--Coco--Nail of the fingers. D at the beginning of a word or in the middle, if preceded by a consonant, is pronounced like in English. At the end of a word or between two vowels has a sound between D and R, which may be obtained by placing the tip of the tongue against the higher teeth turning the thick part towards the roof of the mouth. G has always a very smooth sound like in English before a, o, u, as--ginicanan, forefathers--gintoon-an, scholar. H has a slight aspirated sound like a very faintly aspirated h in English in the words horse, hog--as--hocom, judge--habagat, a strong wind--hilanat, fever. E, I these vowels although sound like in English, nevertheless, natives confound them very often: the same shall be said of the vowels O and U; and this is the reason why the P. John Felix's Dictionary employs but I and O, instead E, I--O, U. L sounds like in English, as--lamdag, brightness--libac, backbiting. M sounds like in English: as--mata, eye--motó-top. N sounds like in English; as--nipis, fine, thin. Ng this letter has no equivalent in English, and it must be heard from the natives. Ñ this letter has a strong nasal sound resembling that of n in the English word "poniard" out of Bohol province, where it is pronounced as in the English word--manger and written ny: as, caninyo, bonyag, instead of caniño, boñag. O sounds like in English; as--olan, rain--úhao, thirst. P sounds as in English:--pito, seven--ponó, fill. Q is always followed by u, and pronounced like K; as, quinabuhi, life, quilay, eyebrow, quilquil, scratching. S has always a harsh, hissing sound like ss in English. There is not a word in Bisaya beginning with s followed by a consonant. T sounds as in English, as--tabang, help, tiao, joke. U sounds like in English in the words "proof, goose" but it is frequently confounded with O. (See I and E on the preceding page). Y sounds like ee in English at the end of a word; but before a vowel, or between two vowels, sounds like in the English words "joke, jolt" as--yabó, pour.--This letter when after a noun or pronoun, if the same noun or pronoun, is employed instead of the particle ang, being as it does, an article of appellative nouns. Examples: I did that--acó ang nagbuhat niana, or, acoy nagbuhat niana--What is the reason of that.--¿Onsa ba ang hingtungdan niana? or ¿Onsay hingtungdan niana? FIRST LESSON. OF THE ARTICLE. 1.a The article in the Bisaya dialect is divided into determinate and indeterminate and of the proper names. 2.a The determinate article is ang for singular, and ang mga or sa mga according to the cases for plural. 3.a The indeterminate article is usa, one for the singular; and uban, pila or mapila, some for the plural. 4.a The article of the proper names is si for both masculine and feminine. Declension of the Articles. DEFINITE ARTICLE. SINGULAR. N. The dog. Ang iro. G. Of the dog. Sa iro. D. To the dog. Sa iro. Ac. The dog. Sa iro. Vc. Oh dog. Sa iro. Abl. With the dog. Sa iro. PLURAL. N. The dogs. Ang mga iro. G. Of the dogs. Sa mga iro. D. To the dogs. Sa mga iro. Ac. The dogs. Sa mga iro. Vc. Oh dogs. Sa mga iro. Abl. With the dogs. Sa mga iro. INDEFINITE ARTICLE. SINGULAR A letter. Usa ca sulat. A dog. Usa ca iro. One and another Ang usa ug ang usa PLURAL. Some wish, while others do not--ang uban bu-ut, ang uban dili--Some of the trees, which are there--Pipila sa mga cahuy dihá. The Article of the Proper Names SINGULAR. N. Peter. Si Pedro. G. Of Peter. Ni Pedro. D. To Peter. Can Pedro. Ac. Peter. Can Pedro. Vc. Peter. Oy Pedro. Abl. With Peter. Can Pedro. Remark l.a The article of the proper names is used also to point out a person and his companions, as: N. Joseph and his friends. Sila si José. G. Of Joseph and of his friends. ila ni José. 2.a This article serves also to express kindness or love: as.--My Mother, Si nanay.--My father, Si tatay.--The female child, Si inday--The parish Priest, Si amoy--My eldest sister, Si manang. 3.a The English compounded words, wooden, golden etc. change the affix en into nga, as:--The wooden cross, Ang cruz nga cahoy--The golden ring, Ang singsing nga bulauan. 4.a When we point out the destination of a thing, it is employed the article sa--Thus: The water vat, Ang tadyao sa tubig.--The bottle of wine, Ang botella sa vino. 5.a When it refers to the property of any one, it is as follows.--John's hat, Ang calo ni Juan. 6.a The article sa is employed, when the thing it refers to is determinate, but when it is indeterminate, the article ug must be used, as: Bring the money, Magdala ca sa sapi. Give me money, Taga-an mo acó ug salapi. PLURAL. 1.a The plural is formed in Bisaya by placing mga after the article ang or sa. Declension. N. The cats Ang mga iring G. Of the cats Sa mga iring D. To the cats Sa mga iring Ac. The cats Sa mga iring Vc. Oh cats Mga iring Abl. With the cats Sa mga iring 2.a When the possessive case is placed before the name, it must be placed between ang and mga, thus--My friends, ang acong mga higala--Your shoes, ang imong mga sapin. 3.a Rem. The Bisaya article like the English, does not distinguish the gender, but there are two ways of distinguishing the masculine and feminine in this dialect: 1. By using different words: Ex, ang bana, the husband; ang asaua, the wife; ang amahan, the father: ang inahan, the mother. 2. By the suffixes lalaqui and babaye; Ex. ang iro nga lalaqui, the dog, ang iro nga babaye, she dog; ang bata nga lalaqui, the boy; ang bata nga babaye, the girl. Examples of the article. Joseph's soul, ang calag ni José--John's ground. ang yuta ni Juan, or ang can Juan nga yuta--Who is at Peter's house, ang sa can Pedro nga balay, or ang sa balay ni Pedro--Bring the rice: Magdala ca ug bugas--My mother and sister are at John's cottage, Si nanay ug si inday tua sa camalig ni Juan--My brothers are rich, Ang acong mga igso-on salapia-non man--Are you Peter's father?, Icao ba ang amahan ni Pedro?--I am, Acó man--Who is the owner? ¿Quinsa ba ang tagia?--Where is your son?, Hain ba ang imong anac?--He is at the cockfight, Tua sia sa bulangan--Has he much money?, Daghan ba ang iang salapi?--He has but a few coins, Pipila lamang ca dacó--Let us go. Tala na quitá--Good by. Ari na came--That man is a drunkard. Palahubóg man canang tao--He is a drinker, but not a drunkard. Palainom man sia, apan dili palahubóg--Where is my father?, ¿Hain ba ang acong amahan?--Here he is; Ania dinhi--Who are those men?, ¿Quinsa ba canang mga tao?--They are my friends. Mao ang acong mga higala. Exercise I. Have you the bread?--Yes, sir, I have the bread: Have you your bread?--I have my bread.--Have you the salt?--I have the salt--Have you my salt?--I have your salt.--Have you the soap?--I have the soap--Which (onsa nga) soap have you?--I have your soap--Which shirt have you?--I have my shirt, (ang acong sinina)?--Have you much money?--I have much money--Where is your sister?--She is at the garden (tanaman sa mga bulac)--Where is your father?--He is here. SECOND LESSON. OF THE NOUNS. Supposing the pupil knows the classification of the nouns into proper, common or appellative &., we shall occupy ourselves with their formation, being as it is, so much diverse and usual. A great number of nouns and verbs are compounded in Bisaya by means of roots and particles. The root is the word which contains in itself the signification of the thing, but can not express it without any other word, which we call a particle, to which the root must be united. 1.a With the particle ca at the beginning of the root, and an after, are formed collective nouns, and nouns of place, as:--Grove, cacahoyan--Banana plantation, casagingan. 2.a With the particle ca before, are formed the nouns of quality, as:--Whiteness,--Ang caputi. 3.a By placing the particle pagca before the roots, are formed the abstract nouns, and those pointing out the essence of the things, as: Sweetness. Ang catam-is. Mercy. Ang calo-oy. Kindness. Ang caayo. Divinity. Ang pagca Dios. Humanity. Ang pagca taoo. Hardness. Ang pagca guhi. 4.a With the particle isigca before the root, are formed correlative nouns, placing the possessive pronoun in genitive case, as: My like. Ang isigcataoo co. 5.a With the particles mag and man are formed substantive and adjective nouns, duplicating the first syllable of the roots, thus: The writer. Ang magsusulat. The tailor. Ang magtatahi. The maker. Ang magbubuhat. The surgeon. Ang mananambal. The almsgiver. Ang manlilimos. 6. With the particle pala before, are formed several substantives, as: The drunk. Ang palahubóg. The tippler Ang palainom. The writer. Ang palasulat. 7.a With tag before the root, are formed nouns expressing the owner of a thing, as: The owner of the house. Ang tagbalay. The master of the vessel. Ang tagsacayan. The owner of the world. Ang tagcalibutan. 8.a Putting this same particle before the words signifying the seasons of the year or the atmospherical changes, points out the time of these changes: and placing it before words signifying the farming-works, it shows the time of those operations. In some provinces are used also in this same sense, the particles tig and tin, thus: Rain time. tagolan. Warm time. tiginit. Harvest time. tagani--tinani, or tig-ani. 9.a The particle taga before the nouns of countries or nations, serves to ask some one about his town, as: Where are you from? Taga di-in ca ba? I am from Spain. Taga España man acó. Of which town? Taga di-in ca nga longsod? From Cornago. Taga Cornago. 10.a Taga signifies also until, and points out the end of the action, as: To the knee. Taga tohod. To the neck. Taga liug. As far as the floor. Taga salug. 11.a By means of the articles pag and pagca are formed the verbal substantives. Ex: Making or to make. Ang pagbuhat. Walking or to walk. Ang paglacao. Reading or to read. Ang pagbasa. Resuscitating or to resuscitate. Ang pagcabanhao. Dying or to die. Ang pagcamatay. 12.a Placing the particle tagi before the root it points out permanency on a place, as: Inhabitant of a place. Tagilongsod. Countryman. Tagibanua. Declension of the common nouns. SINGULAR. N. The cotton. ang gapas. G. Of the cotton. sa gapas. D. To the cotton. sa gapas. PLURAL N. The cottons. ang mga gapas. G. Of the cottons. sa mga gapas. D. To the cottons. sa mga gapas. Practical examples Don't approach the intoxicated Ayao icao dumo-ol sa palahubóg. man. Hardness is the molave merit. Ang caayo sa tugás ana-a sa cagahi nia. Love your neighbour, for that is Mahagugma ca sa imong isigcataoo, a commandment of God. cay gisugo sa Dios. Don't sow nor plant in warm time. Sa tigadlao ayo pagtanom ug pagpugás. God is the Maker of all things. Ang Dios mao ang Magbubuhat sa ngatanan. The river water reaches as far as Ang tubig sa subá miabut tagahaoac. the waist. Who has my book? ¿Hain ba ang acong libro? Where is my book? ¿Hain ba ang libro co? I have it. Ania man canaco. Where is the horse? ¿Hain ba ang cabayo? I do not know. Ambut lamang. How does that concern you? ¿Onsay imo dihá? Every oneself. Iyahay lang quitá. So must it be. Mao man cana unta. Exercise II. Good morning, how are you?--Very well, I thank you--Where are you from?--I am from Spain--Of which town?--From Conago--Who (quinsa) has my book?--I have it--Who is that young Lady?--She is Miss Kate--Where is my trunk (caban)?--The servant has it--Have you my fine glasses?--I have them--Have you the fine horses of my neighbours?--I have not them--Who are you?--I am John--Are you Peter's father?--I am. THIRD LESSON. OF THE CARDINAL NUMBERS. The father Encina divides the numbers into primitives, ordinals, distributives and vicenales. The primitive numerals are those which serve to count, and are the followings: 1 One. Usá. 2 Two. Duha. 3 Three. Tolo. 4 Four. Upat. 5 Five. Lima. 6 Six. Unum. 7 Seven. Pito. 8 Eight. Ualo. 9 Nine. Siam. 10 Ten. Napolo. 11 Eleven. Napolo ug usá. 12 Twelve. Napolo ug duha. 13 Thirteen. Napolo ug tolo. 14 Fourteen. Napolo ug upat. 15 Fifteen. Napolo ug lima. 16 Sixteen. Napolo ug unum. 17 Seventeen. Napolo ug pito. 18 Eighteen. Napolo ug ualo. 19 Nineteen. Napolo ug siam. 20 Twenty. Caluha-an. 30 Thirty. Catlo-an. 40 Forty. Capat-an. 50 Fifty. Calim-an. 60 Sixty. Canum-an. 70 Seventy. Capito-an. 80 Eighty. Caualo-an. 90 Ninety. Casiam-an. 100 One hundred. Usa ca gatus. 101 One hundred and one Usa ca gatus ug usá. 200 Two hundred. Duha ca gatus. 300 Three hundred. Tolo ca gatus. 1000 One thousand. Usa ca libo. 1001 One thousand and one. Usa ca libo ug usá. 2000 Two thousand. Duha ca libo. Ten children. Napolo ca bata. Twenty horses. Caluha-an ca cabayo. Two hundred and twenty guns. Duha ca gatus caluha an ug duha ca fusil. Five hundred and ninety one Lima ca gatus casiam-an ug usa ca soldiers. soldalo. One thousand men. Usa ca libo ca taoo. Remarks: 1.a The English forms "a hundred, a thousand", are rendered into Bisaya by usa ca gatus, usa ca libo. Expressions like "eighteen hundred" must be translated as:--one thousand eight hundred, ex: The year 1898.--Usa ca libo ualo ca gatus casiaman ug usa. 2.a The unity begins by a consonant duplicates, the first syllable, when points out any quantity. The denaries are formed by putting before unity the particle ca and an after, as we have seen. Ca serves also to join the numbers to the nouns, thus: Usa cataoo.--Napolo ca pisos, upat ca adlao. Ordinal Numbers. 1st. Ang nahaona. 2d. Ang icaduha. 3d. Ang icatolo-tlo. 4th. Ang icaupat-pat. 5th. Ang icalima. 6th. Ang icaunum. 7th. Ang icapito. 8th. Ang icaualo. 9th. Ang icasiam. 10th. Ang icapolo. 11th. Ang icapolo ug usa. 12th. Ang icapolo ug duha. 13th. Ang icapolo ug tolo. 14th. Ang icapolo ug upat 15th. Ang icapolo ug lima. 20th. Ang icacaluhaan. 21th. Ang icacaluhaan ug usa. 30th. Ang icacatloan. 40th. Ang icacaupatan 50th. Ang icacalim-an 100th. Ang icausa ca gatus. The month.--Ang bulan. The day.--Ang adlao. The week.--Ang semana. What is the date to day.--¿Icapila quita caron?--To-day is the sixth of March of the year 1901.--Sa icaunum ca adlao sa bulan sa Marzo sa usa ca libo siam ca gatus ng usa ca tuig. Days of the week Monday. Lunes. Tuesday. Martes. Wednesday. Miercoles. Thursday. Jueves. Friday. Viernes. Saturday. Sabado. Sunday. Domingo. Months of the year. (The months and the days of the week are taken from the Spanish language). January. Enero. February. Febrero. March. Marzo. April. Abril. May. Mayo. June. Junio. July. Julio. August. Agosto. September. Setiembre. October. Octubre. November. Noviembre. December. Diciembre. A century. Usa ca siglo. A year. Usa ca tuig. A month. Usa ca bulan. A week. Usa ca semana. A day. Usa ca adlao. An hour. Usa ca horas. A minute. Usa ca minuto. To day. Caron adlao. Yesterday. Cahapon. To-morrow. Ugma. Next year. Tuig nga muabut. Last year. Tuig nga miagui. Day before yesterday. Cahapon sa usa ca adlao. Day after to-morrow. Ugma damlag. Three days ago. Canianhi. Last week. Semana nga miagui. At half past one. Sa á la una y media. At a quarter past one. Sa á la una y cuarto. At a quarter to one. Cuarto sa la una. Partitive Numbers The partitive numbers are formed by adding to the cardinals--ca bahin--thus: One part. Usa ca bahin. The half. Ang ca tunga. One third. Ang ica tlo. One fourth. Ang ica upat. Ex: The half of the heirdom belongs to Ang catunga sa cabilin nahatungud me. canaco. Divide among them the half of the Bahinan mo sila sa catunga sa cocoa-nut. lubi. Distributive numbers The distributive numbers are formed by putting tag or tinag before the cardinal numbers, thus: One after one. Tagsa or tinagsa. Two after two. Tagurha or tinagurha. Twenty after twenty. Tagcaluhaan. Put the children in a row one by Ipalumbay mo ang mga bata sa one. tinagsa. What wages did you pay them? ¿Sa tagpila guisoholan mo sila? Seven shillings to each one. Sa tagpito ca sicapat. Each man shall be judged by God. Ang tagsa ca taoo pagahocman sa Dios. Vicenal Numbers The vicenal or proportional numbers, so called for explaining the proportion between two unities, one of which is contained in the other, are formed in Bisaya by putting the particle naca or maca before the cardinal numbers. Naca for past tense, and maca for the future: Thus: Once. Naca or macausa. Twice. Naca or macaduha. Three times. Naca or macatolo. Four times. Naca or macaupat. One hundred times. Naca or maca usa ca gatus. How many times have you read the Sa nacapila ba icao nagbasa sa letter? sulat? Many times. Sa nacadaghan. How many times have you weeped? Sa nacapila ba icao naghilac? Five times. Sa nacalima. How many times have you visited Sa nacapila ba icao nagduao sa church? Singbahan? Seven times Sa nacapito. Are there some fish in the Duna bay isda sa Longsod? village? There are a good plenty of fish. Duna man ug daghan isda. How old are you? Pila ca tuig ang edad mo? I am twenty seven years old. Caluhaan ug pito ca tuig ang acong edad. You are a young man yet. Bata pa icao. How much is your daily wage? Tagpila ang imong sohol sa usa ca adlao? Two dimes. Duha ca sevillana (peseta) What have you at home? Onsa ba ang ana-a sa iño? We have rice and fish. Ania sa amo bugás ug isda. Where is your shirt? Hain ba ang sinina mo? Exercise III. Where is my book!--Under the chair--Where is my hat?--It is on the table--Is it on the table?--No; it is upon the bed--Did you read the book?--I did not--How many books have you written?--I have written one--How many times have you read the letter?--Many times--How many times have you weeped?--Five times--How much is your daily wage?--Two dimes--How old are you?--I am twenty seven years old--How old is she?--She is not yet twenty years old--Have you burnt yourself?--Each man has his taste--Have you a mind to sleep?--No: I have a mind to speak--Do you fear this man?--I don't fear him--At what o'clock do you go to bed?--I go to bed at sunset, and I get up at sunrise. FOURTH LESSON OF THE PRONOUNS. The Bisaya pronouns are divided into personal, demonstrative, possessive and relative. The personal pronouns are: SINGULAR. PLURAL. I. Acó We. Quitá, Camé Thou, you. Icao, ca. You. Camó. He, she. Sia. They. Sila. Declension of the personal pronouns First Person SINGULAR. PLURAL. N. I. Acó. We. Camé, quitá. (1) G. Of me. Acó, co, naco, ta. Of us. Amo, namo, ato, ta. D. To me. Canaco. To us. Canamo, canato. (1) Quitá is used when the speaker excludes not those, to whom he is speaking, and camé when he does. 2d. Person SINGULAR. PLURAL. N. Thou or you. Icao, ca. You. Camó. G. Of thee or you. Imo, nimo. Of you. Iñó, niñó D. To thee, you. Canimo. To you. Caniñó. 3d. Person SINGULAR. PLURAL. N. He, she. Sia. They. Sila. G. Of him, her. Iya, nia. Of them. Ila, nila. D. To him, her. Cania. To them. Canila. The pronoun Icao may be used indifferently before or after the verbs. The nominative case ca must be placed before the verbs in the negative and final sentences; in other cases, always after them. You will carry. Icao magadala. You will weep. Icao magahilac. Don't lie. Dili ca magbacac. To make known to you. Aron ca mahibalo. We the Christians. Quitá (when all Christians.) ang mga cristianos. Lord, forgive us sinners. Guino-o pasayloa camé nga mga macasasala. Both singular and plural objective cases of the first, second and third persons begin by a vowel, are placed before the nouns and verbs, and those begin by a consonant must be put after them: thus: My shoes. Ang acong mga sapin. Your money. Ang salapi mo. Our country. Ang atong yuta. His vessel. Ang sacayan nia. Your net. Ang imong sahid. You are my beloved. Hinigugma co icao. Demonstrative pronouns. Declension. SINGULAR. PLURAL. N. This. Quini. These. Quining mga. G. Of this. Niini. Of these. Niining mga. D. To this. Niini. To these. Niining mga. The demonstrative pronouns are used instead of repeating the substantives. They also serve for distinguishing between substantives exposed or understood; and when employed with substantives, for pointing out clearly the distinction between them. SINGULAR. PLURAL. N. That. Cana; (far from the Those. Canang mga (far....) speaker) cadto. Cadtong mga. G. Of that. Niana; (far....) Of those. Nianang mga niadto. (far....) Niadtong mga. This near. Cari. Of this near. Niari Those near. Caring mga. Of those near. Niaring mga. Now. Caron. Of now. Niaron. Remark Quini, refers to the persons or things nearest to the speaker: cana, to the persons or things nearest to the persons spoken to: cadto, is used to point out persons or things distant, both from the speaker and from the person spoken to. It is also employed this pronoun, but in genitive case, when speaking of events long time ago past, as: In those days.--Niadtong mga tiempo. The adverb caron, is employed also as a demonstrative pronoun: thus: This morning. Caron buntag. Noon. Odto. Afternoon. Hapon. This night. Caron gabi-i This woman. Quining babaye. These women. Quining mga babaye. Have you this pen or that? Na-a ba canimo quining pluma cun cadto ba? I have neither this nor that, but Uala canaco quini ug cadto, apan I have this other. ani-a canaco cari. He arrived yesterday about this Nacabut sia cahapon maingon niaron. time. Possessive pronouns. Are formed by the genitives of the personal pronouns, and are always joined to a noun before it, when begin by a vowel, and after, when by a consonant, Ex: My hat. Ang acong calo. Your shirt. Ang sinina mo. Your shoes. Ang iñong mga sapin. Your religion. Ang religion niñó. Our house. Ang atong balay. His parishioners. Ang mga sacup nia. Relative pronouns.--Interrogative. The relative--interrogative pronouns, are: Who? ¿Quinsa? What? ¿Onsa? Which? ¿Hain? Who is that man? Quinsa ba canang taoo? Who is there? Quinsa ba dihá? Which of you? Quinsa ba caniño? What is that? Onsa ba cana? Where is the money? Hain ba ang salapi? Remark The particle ba, has not signification, but serves to point out the interrogative and dubitative sentences. The relative pronouns simple, are translated into Bisaya by nga, as: I saw him bathing himself. Naquita co sia nga naligo. Dreadful shall be the punishment Daco man ang castigo nga you shall have into hell ipahamtang canimo sa infierno. The man whom I saw yesterday has Ang tao nga naquita co cahapon fallen from the cocoa-tree. naholog sa lubí. Exercise IV. Where are you going?--I am going into the church--Have you this pen or that?--I have neither this nor that, but I have this other. When did he arrive?--He arrived yesterday about this time--Where is she? She is at home--Do you speak Bisaya?--Not yet--I have bought the horse of which you spoke to me. When did you buy it?--Yesterday--Where do you intend to take me to?--What is the date to day?--To day is the twenty first--I speak to those to whom you have spoken. Where did you speak to them?--I spoke to them at the street. FIFTH LESSON. OF THE ADJECTIVE. Remark: 1.a The Bisaya adjectives are formed by putting before the root the particle Ma as: Wiser. Maalam. Good. Maayo. Pretty. Maanindut. Ugly. Mangil-ad. 2.a Putting after these adjectives the syllables on, hon, an, han are formed the followings: Sick-ill Masaquit-on. Envious. Masinahon. Pale. Maluspad-on. Sad. Mamingao-on. 3.a By putting the particles on, hon, an, han, after the root, are formed adjectives signifying qualities both moral and physical: ex. Talker. Tabian. Pock marked. Butihon. Fat. Tambocon. Rich. Adunahan. 4.a With the particle ha before are formed adjectives of distance: by means of the particle hi are formed those pointing out frequency in the action: thus: Short. Hamobo. Often feeder. Hingaon. Far. Halayo. Often drinker. Hinginom. 5.a Inserting la, li, lo, between the first two syllables of the root, and placing on, after the last are formed adjectives of quality, as: Worthy. Talahoron. Worshipful. Silingbahon. 6.a Are also formed adjectives of quality by putting mangi before the root, and an after, as: Merciful. Mangilooyan. Wise. Mangialaman. 7.a With the particle Maca, and duplicating the first syllable of the root are formed adjectives, as: Poisonous. Macahihilo. Dreadful. Macalilisang. 8.a With the particle ma before the root and inserting in between the first two syllables, and adding on to the last, are formed adjectives of quality, thus: Respectful. Matinahoron. Obedient. Masinugtanon. 9.a Inserting pa between ma and the first syllable of the root, and adding on to the last, are formed adjectives of quality; and also by means of pa, before the root, as: Humble. Mapaubsanon. Haughty. Palabilabihon. Ex: The wise men understand the Ang mga maquinaadmanon nacatuquib sa high explanations. mga hata-as nga mga casayodan. I saw an awful snake. Naquita co ug usá ca halas nga macalilisang. The merciful man helps to his Ang taoo nga mangilooyan nacatabang sa neighbour. isig-catao nia. Exercise V. I see the children to whom you have given the books, and I have met also with the men to whom you have spoken. The wise men understand the high explanations. The merciful man helps to his neighbour--What have you to do?--I have to speak to the men--When have you to speak to them?--This evening--At what o'clock?--At half past eight--Have you my shirt or my sister's?--I have both--Have you the golden ribbons of my mother?--I have not them--Who has them?--My sister has them--Do you wish to go out?--I wish not to go out--Why?--Because I am sick. SIXTH LESSON DIMINUTIVE ADJECTIVES. l.a The diminutive adjectives not only express diminution, but also an accessory idea of either tenderness, love or contempt. The diminutives are formed in Bisaya by means of the adjective diutay. When they have but two syllables, are formed by duplicating the root, and also, by placing the syllables la, li, lo, after the first letter of the root, Ex: Small horse. Diutay nga cabayo. Small eyes. Mata mata. Small house. Balay balay. Slight fault. Sayop nga diutay. 2.a The adjectives of ma, become diminutives by putting before, the particle malo, as: Somewhat valiant. Malomaisug. Somewhat fat. Matolotambuc. 3.a The same adjectives become diminutives by duplicating the root, as: Somewhat sweet. Matam-istam-is. Somewhat bitter. Mapait-pait. 4.a Adding a, to the nouns, are formed diminutives expressing contempt or disregard, as: Worthless woman. Babayeha. Nag. Cabayoa. 5.a When this letter a is added, but not in contemptible sense, serves to point out that the subject or object is unknown to us, as: What kind of medicine is that? ¿Onsa nga tambala cana? What kind of tree is that? ¿Onsa ba ang calainan nianang cahuya? Degrees of Comparison The degrees of comparison are formed in Bisaya by adding to the superiority Lapi pa, to the equality ingon, and to the inferiority, as we have seen, Diutay pa. Ex. Large. Dacó. Larger. Labi pa nga dacó. Largest. Ang labing dacó. Small. Diutay. Smaller. Labi pa nga diutay. Smallest. Ang labing diutay. Well, Good. Maayo. Better. Labi pang maayo. Best. Ang labing maayo. Bad. Dautan. Worse. Labi pang dautan. Worst. Ang labi nga dautan. More. Labi pa. Less. Diutay pa. More, than. Labi pa; daghan pa, sa. Less, than. Diriot pa; culang pa, sa. Very much. Caayo or uyamut. As much, as. Magsama sa cadaghan, ug. Not as much. Dili ingon. Ex: Have you as many friends as I? ¿Magsama ba sa cadaghan sa mga higala mo ug ang aco? I have less money than he. Diriot pa ang acong salapi sa iya. This book is small, that is Quining libro diutay man, cadto labi smaller, and that is the pang diutay, ug cari mao ang lab ng smallest of all. diutay sa ngatanan. This hat is large, but that is Quining calo dacó man, apan cadto larger. labi pang dacó. Is your hat as large as mine? ¿Ang imong calo dacó ba ingon sa aco? It is not so large as your. Diutay pa sa imo? Do your children write as much Ang Pagsulat sa imong mga anac as we? tagingon ba sa pagsulat namo? Do you read as often as I? ¿Nagabasa ca ba sa masubsub ingon canaco? As early as you. Masayo ingon canimo. God is the best Father. Ang Dios mao ang lobing maayo nga Amahan. Remarks l.a The comparative of inferiority is formed by translating the adverbs less by diutay, diriut pa, ingon nga, culang, and than, into sa. Ex. I have less rice than coffee. Diriut pa ang acong bugás sa capé. Your father is less wise tan Ang amahan mo culang sa quinaadman mine. sa aco. Your ring is not so nice as my Ang singsing mo dili ingon nga mother's. maanindut sa can nanay. 2.a The comparative of equality is formed by translating the adverbs as or so into magsama, and the second adverb as into ug, and both terms of comparison in nominative case, as: Ex: Have you as many friends as ¿Magsama ba ang cadaghan sa mga higala I? mo ug ang aco? 3.a The comparative of superiority is formed by translating more by labi pa, and than into sa; and also into dili, but in this case, both terms of comparison must be placed in nominative case, like in the comparatives of majority and of inferiority: Ex. Honor is more precious that Labi pang tacus higugmaon ang catahod-an riches. sa pagcadaghan sa catigayonan 4.a The relation of majority more, may be also rendered by daghan pa, and than, by sa or dili. Ex: I have more silver than Daghan pa ang acong salapi sa bulaoan gold. co, or (dili ang bulaoan co). I have less shoes than hats. Diutay pa ang mga sapin co, dili ang acong mga calo. Exercise VI I have as much money as you--Have you as many friends as I?--We have less money than they--This book is small, that is smaller, and that is the smallest of all--This hat is large, but that is larger--Is your hat as large as mine? It is larger than yours--Do your children write as much as we?--They write more than you--My father has more silver than gold--Your ring is not so nice as my mother's--Your father is less wise than mine--I have less rice than coffee--Do you read as often as I?--Do you listen to what your brother tell you?--Yes, I listen to it--God is the best Father. SEVENTH LESSON UNITIVE PARTICLES. Before coming to the end of this part of the nouns, we shall have a short speech about some ligaments, called unitive particles, which serve for uniting elegantly the nouns, pronouns and adjectives, and for joining together the sentences, and to give them a particular energy. These particles are the followings: Nga. l.a This particle (when it is not used as relative) serves to link the pronouns with the nouns and the adjectives. When the preceding word ends by a vowel the letter a of nga, must be suppressed, joining ng to the vowel, as: Pretty house. Maanindut nga balay. Good horse. Maayong cabayo. 2.a Serves also for joining both the sentences and verbs with the adverbs, ex: Come back early. Bumalic cang masayó. I doubt very much I may forgive Malisud cahá nga pasaylo-an co sia him. (V. Pag 8), 3.a Remark. Ug. It is employed instead of the article in the objective cases of indefinite objects, and in compounded sentences when are employed instead of objective case. It serves also to link the cardinal numbers: Ex: Buy rice. Pumalit ca ug bugás. The work weakens me Naluya acó ug pagbuhat. All my neighbour's children Ang mga anac sa acong silingan died of plague. nahurut ug camatay sa salot. Seventeen. Napolo ug pito. Ca. This particle links the cardinal numbers with the nouns: Ex. Ten thousand. Napolo ca libo. My three horses were removed out Nauala ang mga totolo ca cabayo of sight. naco. Ing. Serves for joining the sentences and the objective cases, when it is spoken in indeterminate sense. There is not now who may seek. Uala na ing macapatigayon. Have I a knife? ¿Duna ba acó ing usá ca cuchillo? Exercise VII. You speak as much as I--They have not so many toys as books--Have you as many books as I?--I have fewer than you--Has our friend as many birds as chickens?--He has more of the former than of the latter--Are we right in speaking?--You are not wrong in speaking, but you are wrong in cutting my trees--Have you time to work?--1 have time, but not mind to work--Have you still a mind to buy any thing?--Yes, I have a mind to buy one more horse--Have you as much good as bad paper?--I have as much of the one as of the other--Have our neighbours as much honey as sugar?--They have more honey than sugar--Have your sons as many slippers as shirts?--They have more of the latter than of the former--I have a favour to beg of you. EIGHTH LESSON THE VERB. The verb is the most important part of all languages, and also the most difficult. By this reason, to speak with somewhat perfection the Bisaya dialect, it is necessary a perfect acquaintance with it. The Bisaya dialect has not verbs, and they must be formed by adding to the roots particles, which shall be placed either before of after, as we shall explain. In Bisaya the verbs is divided into substantive, adjective, passive, neuter, reciprocal and reflexive. Of the substantive verb TO BE--MAO, MAN. The verb TO BE and its like TO HAVE, are irregulars in their conjugation, and to form their sentences, it is necessary to use a very new form. They are expressed by means of particles, adverbs, conjunctions, and sometimes by means of the employment of both nominative and genitive cases. Conjugation of the verb TO BE--Mao, Man. Indicative mood--Present Tense. SINGULAR. PLURAL. I am. Acó mao, man. We are. Camé, quitá mao, man. Thou art. Icao mao, man. You are. Camó mao, man. He is. Sia mao, man. They are. Sila mao, man. Rem. The particle man, is euphonic, when the sentences are not of the verb TO BE, ex; Did you go to Spain? Nacaadto ca ba sa España? I did not. Uala man acó umadto. PAST TENSE. I was good when I was younger. Maayo man acó sa bata pa acó. I was rich the last year. Salapian man acó sa tuig nga miagui. FUTURE I shall or will be serious. Buutan man acó. IMPERATIVE. Be serious. Magbuutan ca. SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD. It is necessary you be saint. Quinahanglan nga masantos ca. CONDITIONAL FUTURE. If I were humble, I should be Cun mapaubsanon acó unta, masantos saint. unta. INDEFINITE FUTURE. I would be saint, if I Santos man acó unta cun macatuman fulfilled God's law. unta acó sa mga sugo sa Dios. Rem. l.a It will be observed by the preceding conjugation, that the particle Mao--To be, is used but in the present tense of indicative mood. 2.a The particle Man--To be, does not point out by itself the tense, but it does the determining, may it be a noun or a whole sentence. 3.a To point out the subjunctive mood is used unta, when the sentences are obtative, in another cases are employed cun, ug, or pa. 4.a As auxiliaries of the verb Man, are employed the article ang before or after the noun, or the particle Y after the subjective case. 5.a The same must be said of the particle Nay. Are formed also sentences of the verb Man, by placing the attribute, before the subject it refers to. 6.a With pagca or mag, before the adjective are formed also these kind of sentences. A few examples may elucidate these remarks: The priest is God's succeeder, Ang Pare mao ang ilis sa Dios, ug and also the Father of the souls. mao man usab, ang amahan sa mga calág. The flowers are pretty. Manindut man ang mga bulac. I will make it. Acoy magabuhat. Who will be my comforter? ¿Quinsa nay macalipay canaco? What a beautiful effigy! ¡Pagca maanindut nga laraoan! What does concern you, about my ¿Onsay labut mo, cun maayo ba acó, good or bad behaviour? cun dili ba? Behave well at teacher's house. Magbuutan ca bayá sa balay sa magtoto-on. How? is ill my behave? Diay? ¿dautan ba acó? God is the Almighty. Ang Dios maoy macagagahum sa ngatanan. I am who shall go. Acoy moadto didto. Good should be. Maayo unta. A moment. Cariot da. Are you a chattering fellow? ¿Hinultihon ca ba? What countryman is he? ¿Tagadi-in ba sia? God is every where. Ang Dios ana-a sa bisan di-in. Exercise VIII. Who is the Priest?,--The Priest is God's succeeder, and the father of the souls--Are pretty the flowers?--Yes; all the flowers are pretty; but the lily is the most beautiful, then it is the symbol of purity, chastity, virginity, innocence and candour--Where are you from?--I am from Aloran, my parents are from Cornago, my eldest brother from Oroquieta, and my younger from Tagbilaran--Do you wish to send one more horse to our friends?--I wish to send many more to them--Are you going for any thing?--I am going for some thing--What are you going for?--I am going for some wine--Does your father send for any thing?--Yes, sir: he sends for some wine--Whom does your neighbour send for?--He sends for the physician--Does your servant take off his shirt to make the fire?--He takes it off to make it. NINTH LESSON TO BE--ANI-A, NA-A OR ANA-A, TUA. When the verb TO BE points out TO BE IN A PLACE, is translated into Bisaya by ani-a, to be here: na-a or ana-a, to be there: and tua, to be far from the speaker. Instead of the English adverbs HERE, THERE, are used in Bisaya dinhi, here: diha, there: didto, there (further). The indicative present does not need adverbs of place. INDICATIVE PRESENT. I am here. Ania man acó. (dinhi) Thou art there. Naa ca man. (dihá) He is there. (further) Tua man sia. (didto) We are here. Ania man quitá or camé (dinhi) You are there. Naa man camó. (dihá) They are there (further) Tua man silá. (didto) PAST TENSE. I was here, when you was there. Dinhi man acó sa didto ca pa. (further) I was there yesterday. Didto man acó cahapon. FUTURE. I will be there to-morrow. Didto man acó ngma. CONDITIONAL FUTURE. I would be there, if you were Didto unta acó, cun buut ca pa pleased. unta. Subjunctive Mood FUTURE. It is necessary you be there. Quinahanglan nga didto ca. ABSOLUTE INDEFINITE. That I might be here. Dinhi unta acó. CONDITIONATE INDEFINITE. If I were there. Cun didto pa unta acó. IMPERATIVE MOOD. Be there (ye, you). Diha camó. GERUND. Being there, I saw him. Sa didto acó, naquita co sia. Rem. When the verb TO BE, points out the actual conditions of persons or things, the root pointing out such a condition, becomes verb by means of the particle ma of the neuter verbs. INDICATIVE MOOD. I am sick. Masaquit man acó. PAST TENSE. He was sick, when I was well or Masaquit sia, sa pagca maayo co ug strong. laoas. ABSOLUTE FUTURE. He will or shall be ill to-morrow. Masaquit sia ugma. CONDITIONAL FUTURE. If I were sick, you would care Cun masaquit acó unta, icao magalima of me. unta canaco. GERUND. Being he sick, was not willing to Sa iyang pagcasaquit uala sia buut take the medicines. uminom sa mga tambal. Conjugation of the Verb TO HAVE. The verb TO HAVE in a determinate sense is translated into Bisaya by ania, for first persons; na-a or ana-a, for the seconds; and tua, for the thirds. INDICATIVE MOOD--PRESENT TENSE. I have the shirt. Ania canaco ang sinina. They have the hat. Tua canila ang calo. PAST TENSE. When you were looking after the Sa pagpangita mo sa sinina, dinhi shirt it was with me. man canaco. Rem. The others tenses of this conjugation, are formed by means of the adverbs Dinhi, Dihá. and Didto, according to the persons, placing the person in ablative case immediately after the adverb or particle. I had the hat yesterday. Cahapon dinhi canaco ang calo. I shall or will have the hat Ugma dinhi na canaco ang calo. to-morrow. I would have the fan, if I Dinhi unta canaco ang paypay, cun bought it. paliton co unta. If I had the ring, I would give Cun dinhi pa unta canaco ang it to you. singsing, ihatag co unta canimo. TO HAVE--(In Partitive Sense.) l.a The verb TO HAVE in partitive sense, is translated into Bisaya by May, Duna or Aduna, with the person in nominative or genitive case. INDICATIVE MOOD--PRESENT TENSE. Have you money? ¿May salapi ca ba? I have some money. Dunay acong salapi PAST TENSE. I had money yesterday, and you Cahapon duna ma acong salapi, ug had not. icao ualá. ABSOLUTE FUTURE. I shall have money tomorrow. Ugma duna may acong salapi. CONDITIONAL FUTURE. You might have money, if you Icao duna unta ug salapi, cun worked. magtrabajo ca unta. SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD. I if had money, I would give it Cun dunay unta acó ug salapi, ihatag to you. co unta canimo. GERUND. Having money, all is easy. Sa pagca dunay salapi, ang ngatanan mahimo. 2.a When speaking of immaterials things, the root becomes verb with the particle Na of neuter verbs; thus. I am cold. Natugnao man acó. I was cold yesterday, and you Cahapon guitugnao acó ug icao warm. gui-initan. 3.a The root Tugnao admits gui instead of Ma and the root Init admits also gui with the passive of an. I was warm yesterday. Cahapon nainitan acó. You will or shall be warm. Mainitan ca. The impersonal expression--There--To be. Duna INDICATIVE MOOD--PRESENT TENSE. Is there a man in the street? ¿Duna bay usá ca taoo sa dalan? There are twenty. Duna man caluha-an. There is no body in the street. Ualay taoo sa dalan. There was rice yesterday at the Cahapon dunay bugás sa longsod, town, but there was not money. apan ualay salapi. The last month there was rice. Sa bulan nga miagui, dunay bugás. If there were rice, there would be Cun dunay bugás unta, uala unta not hunger at the province. ug gutum sa provincia. Exercise IX. When does your father intend to depart?--He intends to depart to day--At what o'clock?--At four o'clock--Where is he going?--He goes to Madrid--Does the butcher kill oxen?--He kills sheep instead of killing oxen--Do you always take off your hat, when you speak to my father?--I always take it off--What do you take in the morning, tea or coffee?--I take coffee--Do you take coffee every morning?--I take coffee every morning and every evening--What does your father take?--He drinks chocolate--How far did the children go this morning?--As far as their cousin's--Has any one stolen any thing from you?--Some one has stolen a fine horse from me. TENTH LESSON THE ADJECTIVE VERBS. The verbs, as we have said, are formed by means of roots and particles equivalents to the four tenses, Present, Past, Future and Imperative of the Bisaya conjugation. The other tenses are formed with the particles of the four primitives, as we shall see in the conjugation. The particles we refer to, are Naga and its compounds: Nagaca, Nagapa, Nagapaca, Naca, mi, and many others we shall use at their place. In order to aid the scholars in the knowledge and formation of the tenses, we shall conjugate here a verb in active voice, by means of the particle Naga, which is the most common. The pupils shall not lose of sight, that, in this dialect all the last syllables are like, being only changed the persons. To Choose--PAGPILI. Infinitive. To choose. Pagpili. Gerund. Choosing. Sa pagpili. Past participle. Chosen. Pinili. INDICATIVE MOOD. PRESENT TENSE. I choose. Acó nagapili. Thou choosest. Icao nagapili. He (she) chooses. Sia nagapili. We choose. Camé (or quitá) nagapili. You choose. Camó nagapili. They choose. Sila nagapili. IMPERFECT PRETERIT. I chose. (when) Nagapili acó, (sa) Thou chosest, &. Nagapili ca, (sa) PAST PERFECT. I have chosen. Nagpili acó. Thou hast chosen. Nagpili ca PLUPERFECT. I had chosen. Nagpili na acó. Thou hadst chosen. Human na icao nagpili. He had chosen. Ubus na sia nagpili. IMPERFECT FUTURE. I shall or will choose. Acó magapili. Thou shalt or wilt choose. Icao magapili. PERFECT FUTURE. I shall have chosen. Nagpili na cahá acó. Thou shalt have chosen. Nagpili ca na cahá IMPERATIVE. Choose. Magpili ca. Let him choose. Magpili sia. Choose. Magpili camó. Let them choose. Magpili sila. SUBJUNCTIVE MOOD--PRESENT. That I may choose or not. Magpili acó unta, ug dili. That thou mayest choose. Nga magpili ca. That he may choose. Apat sia magpili. That we may choose. Nga quitá magpili. That you may choose. Nga camó unta magpili. That they may choose. Nga sila unta magpili. IMPERFECT PRETERIT, That I might choose. Ug acó pay magapili. That thou mightest choose. Ug icao unta magapili. That he might choose. Ug magapili pa lamang sia. That we might choose. Ug magpili pa quitá. That you might choose. Ug camó untay magapili. That they might choose. Ug sila pa lamang magpili. PERFECT PRETERIT. That I may have chosen, or not Nga nagpili acó unta, cun ualá. That thou mayest have chosen. Nga nagpili ca na unta. That he may have chosen. Nga siay nagpili. That we may have chosen. Nagpili quitá (or camé) unta. That you may have chosen. Nga nagpili camó. That they may have chosen. Nga nagpili sila. PLUPERFECT. If I might have chosen. Cun acó pay nacagpili. If thou mightest have chosen. Cun icao diay nacagpili. If he might have chosen. Cun nacagpili pa unta sia. If we might have chosen. Cun nacagpili unta quitá. If you might hare chosen. Cun nacagpili unta camó. If they might have chosen. Cun sila diay nacagpili. IMPERFECT FUTURE. If I shall or will choose. Ug dao acó ang magapili. If thou shalt choose. Ug dao magapili ca. If he shall choose. Ug dao sia magapili. If we shall choose. Ug dao magapili quitá. If you shall choose. Ug dao camó magapili. If they shall choose. Ug dao sila ang magapili. PERFECT FUTURE. If I shall or will have chosen. Cun dao nagpili acó ogaling. If thou shalt &. Cun icao ogaling nagpili na. If he shall &. Cun sia ogaling nagpili na. If we shall &. Cun camé ogaling nagpili na. If you shall &. Cun camó na ogaling nagpili. If they shall & have chosen. Cun dao sila na ogaling nagpili. Rem. It must be observed that the adverbs and conjunctions we have made use of in subjunctive mood, are not characteristic signs of this mood, and very often we speak in subjunctive without them. Although the passive voice is the most usual in the Bisaya Dialect, the active sentences have however a very important place at the conversation, and therefore it is necessary to know, that when the speech begins by a nominative agent, express or tácite, the sentence is active. The same must be said when the sentence is about an indeterminate thing, when exclamatory, interrogative or emphatical, and when points out a part of a whole, Ex: You shall hear mass now. Icao musingba caron. Who does observe God's Ang macatuman sa mga sugo sa Dios, commandments, will obtain the macadangat sa paghimaya nga dayon everlasting life. sa Langit. Which of you will accompany me? ¿Quinsa ba caniñó ang muuban canaco? Will you sew the shirt? Magatahi ca ba sa sinina? I will not sew it, but my sister. Dili acó magatahi, cun dili ang igso-on co nga babaye. Who will read this letter? ¿Quinsa ba ang magabasa niining sulat? Look for a child from the school. Mangita ca ug usa ca bata sa escuelahan. If I know how to read or not what Cun mahibaló acó magbasa cun dili does it concern you? ba ¿onsay labut mo niana? Exercise X. Can you walk, and do you not can go to Church?--I am not able to go the Church, because I am sick--Will you can endure it?--Do not pretend to be a learned man, because your own wit avails but little--Do you wish to work?--I wish to work and they let me not--Where is your wife?--I do not know--When did you see her?--I saw her at seven o'clock in the morning--Whom are you speaking to? I am speaking to my sister--Do you speak to her every day?--What does this man spend his time in?--He is a good for nothing fellow; he spends his time in drinking and playing--Who are the men that have just arrived?--They are Russians--Is your father arrived at last?--Every body says that he is arrived but I have not seen him yet--Has the Physician hurt your son?--He has hurt him. for he has cut his finger. ELEVENTH LESSON OF THE PASSIVES. The Bisaya dialect being almost completely passive, the study of this speaking mood is of great importance. Three are the passives or moods of expressing the verbs in passive voice. Passive the first or passive of I (ee). The second passive or of On, and the third passive or of An. The passive of I (ee) is formed by putting Gui before the root for present and past tenses, and I (ee) for future and imperative. Passive the second or of On, is formed by placing the particle Gui before the root for present and past tenses; the future by duplicating the first syllable of the root putting On after: or by placing one of the particles of future tense before the root, and On after. The third passive or of An is formed by putting the particle Gui before the root and An after, for present and past tenses; the future is formed by duplicating the first syllable of the root, and placing before the root one of the particles of future tense and An after. The imperative mood is formed by putting An after the root. Conjugation of the Passives Passive of I. (EE) PRESENT AND PAST TENSES. I leave him or he has been left by me. Guibilin co sia. FUTURE AND IMPERATIVE. He will be left, or let him be left by me. Ibilin co sia. INFINITIVE. When he left him. Sa pagbilin cania. Passive of ON. PRESENT AND PAST TENSES. It is, or it has been written by them. Guisulat nila. FUTURE. Will be written by them. Susulaton or pagasulaton nila. IMPERATIVE. Let it be written by them. Susulaton nila. INFINITIVE. To be written by them. Sa pagsulat nila. IMPERATIVE. Write that. Sulaton mo caná. Passive of AN. PRESENT AND PAST TENSES. It is or has been opened by me. Guilucaban co. FUTURE. Will be opened by me. Lulucaban or pagalucaban co. IMPERATIVE. Let it be opened by you. Lucaban mo. IMPERSONAL IMPERATIVE. Be that opened. Lucabi or Lucabi caná. Rem. The other tenses are formed by means of conjunctions and adverbs of the active conjugation. To speak well the Bisaya dialect, it is absolutely necessary to understand when and how every one of the passives must be used, and also the mechanism of their sentences, which is the more difficult part, since are so many the moods and so diverse their syntax, In order to make easy to the learners the use of the passive tenses, we shall explain them as clearly as possible by Examples. Sell the plantation of Ibaligya mo ang calubihan. cocoa-trees. We have sold it now. Guibaligya na namo. Count the cows. Isipon mo ang mga vaca. We have counted them, and four are Gui-isip na namo ug culang pa ug out of sight yet. upat ca bo-oc. Order to have them searched at Papangitaa lamang sa madali. one. Water the plants, because it is Boboan mo ang mga tanóm, cay very warm. mainit ca-ayo. Cover the child, because it very Taboni ang bata, cay matugnao cold. ca-ayo. Did you go very far? ¿Halayo ba ang imong guilactan? I am gone as far as my brother's. Guilactan co cutub sa balay sa acong igso-on. Exercise XI. Are you pleased with your servant?--I am much pleased with him, for he is lit for any thing--Has your brother returned at last from Spain?--He has returned thence, and has brought you a fine horse--Has he told his groom to bring it to me?--He has told him to bring it to you--¿What do you think of that horse?--I think that it is a fine and good one, and beg you to lead it to my brother's that he may see it--In what did you spend your time yesterday?-I went to my father's in law, and afterwards to the ball--When did that man go down in to the well?--He went down into it this morning--Has he come up again yet?--He came up an hour ago--Where is your brother?--He is in his room--Will you tell him to come down (nga manaug sia)?--I will tell him so, but he is not dressed. TWELFTH LESSON SOME RULES UPON THE PASSIVES AND THEIR SENTENCES. Passive of I. (ee) This passive is made use of when the agent person exercises its action removing from itself the patient person. The sentences of this passive are formed by putting Gui before the root for the present and past tenses, and I (ee) for the future and imperative. This passive points out the harm, detriment, obsequiousness or favour made to another, placing the receiver person in nominative case, the donor in genitive, and in accusative with ug or sa the favour or harm. Passive of ON. It is employed when the agent person attracts towards itself to the patient person. When it is spoken by means of this passive, the present and past tenses are formed by placing Gui before the root; the future doubling the first syllable of the root and putting On after, and the imperative mood by placing On after the root. Passive of AN. It is employed when the agent person exercises its action upon a place or quasi-place, putting the said place or quasi-place in nominative case. The present and past tenses are formed with gui, before the root and An after it; the future, by duplicating the first syllable of the root and by adding An to it, and the imperative mood by putting An after the root. Examples: Pull off that herb. Ibton mo canang balili. Wherever they may place me I will Bisan asa acó ibutang nila, follow my own mind. macatuman acó sa acong pagbu-ut. I imitate him. Guipanig-ingnan co sia. Speak to him. Pamolongan mo sia. I gave him the book. Guihatag co na cania ang libro. Please accept that. Daoato caná. Please to explain it to me. Sagdi acó. Exercise XII. On what lived our ancestors?--They lived on fish and game, for they went a hunting and a fishing every day--You have learned your lesson: why has not your sister learned hers?--She has taken a walk with my mother, so that she could not learn it, but she will learn it to-morrow--When will you correct my exercises?--I will correct them when you bring me those of your sister--Do you think you have made faults in them?--I do not know--If you have made faults, you have not studied your lessons well; for the lessons must be learned well to make no faults in the exercises--It is all the same; if you do not correct them to day--I shall not learn them before to-morrow--You must not make any faults in your exercises, for you have all you want in order to make none--Who is there?--It is I--Who are those men?--I do not know--Of what country are they?--They are Americans--Why do you sit near the fire?--My hands and feet are cold; that is the reason why I sit near the fire--Are your sister's hands cold?--No; but her feet are cold--What is the matter with your cousin?--fem.--Her leg hurts her--What is the matter with this woman?--Her tongue hurts her. THIRTEENTH LESSON OF THE PARTICLES NAGA. l.a The particle Naga, the most usual in the Bisaya dialect has the same signification as the root to which is joined. Its tenses are formed with naga for the present time, nag for past; maga for the future; and mag for the imperative mood. they all before the root. As: To write. Pagsulat. I write. Acó nagasulat. You wrote. Icao nagsulat. They will, or shall write. Sila magasulat. Write. (pl.) Magsulat camó. 2.a This particle admits the three above mentioned passives, and its tenses are formed by placing some times before, and some times after, the particles at 12th. Lesson mentioned. They may be also formed by putting Paga before the root for future tense, and Pag for the imperative. Examples: PRESENT AND PAST. I write or wrote. Guisulat co. FUTURE. I will or shall write. Sulaton or pagasulaton co. IMPERATIVE. Write. Sulaton or pagsulaton mo. 3.a This particle signifies to do what the root to which precedes points out, but in many ways, as we shall demonstrate. 4.a Placing it before the nouns of dress, garment or garb, signifies to use them or to put on them. thus: He wears shoes. Sia nagasapin. Put on your hat. Magcalo ca. 5.a Before roots of musical instruments, signifies to play on them, as: Play you on the guitar? ¿Nagasesta ca ba? She harps. Sia naga-arpa. Play on the piano. Magpiano ca. 6.a When it is joined to the nouns of nations and in is inserted between the first two syllables of the root, signifies to speak or to translate into that nation's language, and in this case, the second passive will be employed; but when addressing a person, the third must be used, Ex: Speak to me in Latin. Maglinatin ca canaco. Translate that book into Bisaya. Binisayaon mo or pagbinisayaon mo canang libro. Speak not to me in Spanish. Dili acó nimo quinatchilaan. Time to. Tiempo sa. Courage to. Gahúm sa. To be right in. Catarungan sa. To be wrong in. Ualay catarungan sa. Afraid to. Cahadluc sa. Wish or mind to. Nahagugma or gugma sa. To work. Pagbuhat. To speak. Pagsulti, pagpolong. To buy. Pagpalit. To tear. Pagguisi. To break. Pagbo-ong. I have a mind to work. Nahagugma acó magbuhat. Have you time to work. ¿Duna ba camó ug tiempo sa pagbuhat? We have time but not mind to Dunay tiempo, apan dili camé work. mahagugma. Have you a mind to buy my horse? Nahagugma ba camó mupalit sa acong cabayo? I am afraid to break the glass Nahadluc acó magbo-ong sa vaso. Exercise XIII. One of the valet de Chambres of Louis XIV requested that prince, as he was going to bed, to recommend to the first President a lawsuit which he had against his father-in-law, and said in urging him: "Alas; Sire, you have but to say one word." "Well," said Louis XIV, "it is not that which embarrasses me, but tell me, if thou wert in thy father-in-law's place, and thy father-in-law in thine; wouldst thou be glad, if I said that word?"--If the men should come, it would be necessary to give them something to drink--If he could do this he would do that--I have always flattered myself, my dear brother, that you loved me as much as I love you; but I now see that I have been mistaken--I have heard, my sister, that you are angry with me, because I went a-walking without you; but I assure you that had I known that you were not sick, I should have come for you; but I inquired at your physician's after your health, and he told me that you had been keeping your bed the last eight days. FOURTEENTH LESSON OF THE IMPERATIVE, CALLED IMPERSONAL. 1.a The second and third passives have a second imperative called impersonal, because does not mention the person: wherefore, their sentences are called impersonals. The imperative of the second passive ends by a, and that of the third by i. Their sentences are formed by placing the object in nominative case, and the verb in imperative mood, Ex: Kill the dog. Patia ang iró. Put an end to that. Hudta cana. Help us. Tabañgi camé. Write it. Sulata. Read that book. Basaha canang libro. Call to Mr. Louis. Taoga si Sr. Louis. Wait for me. Hulata acó. Light the globe. Dagcuti ang globo. 2.a When the sentence is negative, the English not, is translated into Bisaya by Ayao or uala Ex: It was not met. Uala hiquiti. Be not turbulent. Ayao pagsamoca. Cry not to me. Ayao pagsinggiti. Put not out the candle. Ayao pagpalnga ang candela. 3.a The impersonal imperative of the passive of an, is not compounded with the particle Pag, Ex: Pay what you owe, and comfort Bayri ang mga utang niñó ug lipayon the afflicted. niñó ang mga tao nga ana-a sa calisud. Love God and your neighbour as Higugmaon niño ang Dios ng ang yourselves. isigcatao niñó maingon caniñó. Let us love and practise virtue, Higugmaon ug buhaton ta ang and we shall be happy both in catarungan ug mapaladan quitá niini this life and in the next. ug sa umalabut nga quinabuhi. PRESENT PARTICIPLES OR GERUNDS. We have said, that the Bisaya conjugation has but four tenses, but in order to make the scholar acquainted with the tenses, the English conjugation must be referred to, we make use of all the tenses. The sentences of present participle are formed some times by placing sa and Pag before the root. Examples: This morning when you was Canina sa pag-oali mo nagduladula preaching, were the children ang mga bata. playing. Our Lord spent his night-time in Ang Guinoo ta guicabuntagan sa praying pag-ampo. 3.a The Gerunds are formed also with the adverb labon nga, and the verb in future or in subjunctive, as: The sinners despise to our Guipasaipad-an sa mga macasasalá ang Lord, seeing they should adore atong Guino-o, labon nga him. pagasingbahon nila unta. 4.o By means of verbal nouns are formed also gerunds called of time or causals, and their sentences are formed by placing the leading verb in nominative with Pag before the root, and the subordinate is formed with the particle Na or Maoy and the particle of future Iga Ex: When seeing you, my heart was Ang pagtan-ao co canimo, nalipay ang gladded. casing-casing co. When you departed he grew sad. Ang pag-guican mo namingao sia. Exercise XIV. Would you have money if your father were here?--Should have some if he were here--A French officer having arrived at the court of Vienna, the Empress Theresa asked him if he believed that the Princess of N. whom he had seen the day before, was really the handsomest woman in the world, as was said: Madam, replied the officer, I thought so yesterday--What has become of your uncle?--I will tell you what has become of him: here is the chair upon which he often sat--Is he dead?--He is dead--When did he die?--He died three weeks ago--I am very sorry at it--Why do you not sid down?--If you will sit down to my side, I will sit down also; but if you go, I shall go along with you--WIll you tell me what has become of your sister?--I will tell you what has become of here.--Is she dead?--She is not dead--What has become of her?--She is gone to Manila--What has become of your sisters?--I can not tell what has become of them, for I have not seen them six years ago. FIFTEENTH LESSON INFINITIVE SENTENCES. 1.a The infinitive sentences are composed of leading verb and subordinate verb, the latter in infinitive mood, as: I want to sew. Bu-ut acó magtahi. I want to take a wife Bu-ut acó mangasaoa. 2.a When the sentences have between both leading and subordinate verbs a relative pronoun, express or tacit, this pronoun is translated into Bisaya by nga, and the subordinate verb must be placed in subjunctive mood or in future, either active or passive. In a same way are they formed, when between leading and subordinate verbs, is the conjunction if, which is translated into Bisaya by cun. Ex: It is not suit you go to the Dili Angay nga muadto ca sa cock-fight bulungan. My teacher told me, that I must Mi-ingon ang Magtoto-on canaco nga learn to count. magto-on acó sa pagisip. I wish you to talk Bu-ut acó nga mulacao ca. I wish you to write me. Nagatinguhá acó nga musulat ca canaco. I doubt that I can make it. Ambut cun macabuhat acó niana. 3.a When the leading verb is the verb to be, the sentences are also of to be, and the subordinate verb, is used as a substantive with the particle pag or pagca in nominative, preceded by the article ang, to wit: Is it decent to dance? ¿Maayo ba ang pagsayao? It is necessary to go to school Quinahanglan ang pagadto sa escuelahan. It is indecorous to bathe before Mangil-ad man ang pagcaligo sa people. atubangan sa mga tao. 4.a In this manner are formed these sentences with the neuter verbs, Example: The excessive rain does not suit. Dili angay ang hinlabihan nga pag-ulan. 5.a When the governed verb is preceded by the propositions to, for, in order to, these sentences are called finals, and are translated into Bisaya by cay aron, being the governed verb translated by subjunctive mood, active or passive, Examples: I did come here for visiting my Mianhi acó cay aron magduao acó sa uncle. oyo-an co. We have been ordered by the Nadaoat namo ug orden ni Amba cay Governor to carry (pay) the tax. aron ihatud namo ang buhis. I pray to be loved by the people. Nangadye acó cay aron higugmaon acó sa mga taoo. 6.a When the leading verb is one of the auxiliary may, can or to be able, it is translated by the potential Naca. Signifying to incite, to invite, is rendered by Naquig; when to implore, to be fond of or to give one's mind to, is translated by Naqui; when signifies to have made, to bespeak, by Naga and Pa; and when to allow, to let, must be rendered by Napa; which particles before the root include in themselves the signification of the governed verb, Examples: Did you can go up to the belfry? ¿Nacasacá ca ba sa campanario? Will you be able to carry away that ¿Macadalá ca ba nianang baluyot rice bag? sa bugás? The children incite me to speak Ang mga bata naquigsulti canaco into church. sa Singbahan. Mother, Anthony is inviting me to Nanay, si Antonio naquigsayao dance. canaco. Francis begs me to have pity on Si Francisco naquimalooy canaco. him. I have got the rice plantation Guipatanóm co na ang basacan. made. Bespeak a cane for me. Pabuhaton mo ug usa ca songcod canaco. When do you intend to have my ¿Anus-a ba icao magapatahi sa habits sewed? acong mga hábito? Will you consent to be deceived by Palimbong ca ba nianang bacacon? that liar? Allow not your daughter to go to Ayao mapasayao sa imong anac. the ball. Remark upon the change of letters. The most important changes which the scholar is advised attentively to study to avoid ambiguity are these: l.a Roots beginning by c or qu, changes in composition these letters into g, as: To see, Quita nan-gita. 2.a When the first syllable is b or p, it is changed into m, and those beginning with m, retain this letter, but the particle drops the final n, as: To make--Buhat, namuhat: To speak, Po-long, namolong: To grow dark--Molat, namolat. 3.a When the initials are d, s, or t, change the said syllables into n, and the component particle drops the n, thus: To be angry, Tuyo, nanuyo.--To cry, Singgit, naninggit--To visit, Duao, nanuao. Exercise XV. Why do you open the door?--Do you not see how it smokes here?--I see it, but you must open the window instead of opening the door--The window does not open easily; that is the reason why I open the door--When will you shut it?--I will shut it as soon as the smoke is gone--Is it useful to speak much?--When we wish to learn a foreign language it is useful to speak a great deal--Is it as useful to write as to speak?--It is more useful to speak than to write; but in order to learn a language one must do both--Is it useful to write all that one says?--That is useless--Where did you take this book from?--I took it out of the room of your friend--Is it right to take the books of other people?--It is not right, I know; but I wanted it, and I hope that your friend will not be displeased, for I will return it to him as soon as I have read it. SIXTEENTH LESSON OF THE PARTICLES PA AND IGA. PA. The particle Pa which is also an adverb of time and mood, and signifies yet, still, notwithstanding, has a very important place in the Bisaya dialect, and is sometimes used only redundantly, to give more force to the sentence. For the benefit of learners, we shall explain it here, before speaking of the verbals particles to which is joined to form the sentences. l.a Before some verbs has the signification of to wish, to try, to desire and to allow that the signification of the root may take place on the subject, as: The haughty wishes to be requested Ang palabilabihon pa-ampo by everybody. guihapon. Father, give me only the Pahilog lamang acó, Pare. Extremaunction. I want to have some money so as to Pahatag man acó ug salapi nga buy a fine shirt, and they give me igapalit co ug usá ca maanindat not, for they say, it is vanity. nga sinina, ug dili acó taga-an cay parayeg conó. 2.a Before nouns of place signifies to go there, as: Where are you going? ¿Asa icao paingon? I turn to home. Pauli acó sa amo. Where will you go, when you die? Sa pagcamatay mo, asa icao pa-ingon? I shall ascend into heaven. Palangit acó gayud. 3.a It is employed also as a joining conjunction, and in this case, is used to exaggerate the phrase, placing the thing or the object refers to, before; thus: You also deceive me? Icao pa nagalimbong canaco? He is a gambler and thief. Sia sugarol man ug caoatan pa. He is sick and does play. Nagalingaolingao sia ug nasaquit pa man. 4.a Bisan pa ngani, answers to the English conjunctions though, notwithstanding, for all that &. Ex: Although they allow me not to Bisan pa ngani dili acó pa sugal play, I will play. nila. musugal acó gayud. Although they may punish me, I Bisan pa ngani latuson acó nila, will have not answer. dili acó mutingog. 5.a Serves also to point out the beginning and the end of an action, Ex: I was called, when I had just Igo pa acó miabut, guitaoag acó arrived. nila. IGA or ICA. These particles signify the instrument, tool, or mean with which a thing is done. They answer to the future of the passive mood, Ex: This is the axe with which you Mao quini ang oasay nga iga or have to cut the tree. icaputul mo sa cahuy. But for. Ug dili pa unta. But for he is a gambler this man Quining tao maingoningon ug bu-utan would be so good as your sa igsoon mo, ug dili pa unta sia brother. nga sugarol. If you allow me, I will teach Acoy magato-on canimo ug quinachila, you Spanish. ug tugutan pa acó. Exercise XVI. This man has altered a great deal--Where did you be born?--I will not to answer you--If you do not make your appearance before him, I will not speak to him--How is this said?--That can not be said in Bisaya--Children must be accustomed early to the labor--I am accustomed to write--I cannot express myself in Bisaya. because I am not in the habit of speaking it--The man laughs and weeps by turns--If I knew what you have done.... will you allow me to go to the shore?--I do not permit you to go there--Do it in haste--Why does Ferdinand complain of his wife?--Thomas complains of Fructuosa and Fructuosa of Thomas --Who is right?--They are both wrong, for Thomas wishes to take Fructuosa's toys and Fructuosa Thomas's. SEVENTEENTH LESSON OF THE PARTICLE NAGAPA NAGAPA. This particle is formed from the particles naga and pa; and signifies to allow, to order, to have done what the root points out. The active tenses are formed according to the rules laid down for naga adding invariably pa. ACTIVE VOICE--PRESENT. I bespeak. Acó nagapabuhat PAST TENSE. I bespoke. Acó nagpabuhat. FUTURE. They will bespeak. Silá magapabuhat. IMPERATIVE MOOD. Order the tailor to sew. Magpatahi ca sa mananahi. 2.a This particle admits the three passives according to the above mentioned rules for each of them. The present and past tenses of the first passive are formed by placing Guipa, before the root, the future and imperative with Ipa, before, and the infinitive mood with Pagpa. PRESENT TENSE. I order to sew the shirt. Guipatahi co ang sinina. PAST TENSE. I have had the shirt sewed. Guipatahi co ang sinina. FUTURE. You will order the shirt to be sewed. Ipatahi mo ang sinina. IMPERATIVE. Order the shirt to be sewed. Ipatahi mo ang sinina. 3.a The sentences of this first passive are formed by placing in nominative case the object of the commandment, the verb in passive voice; in genitive the orderer, and in dative, the errand. Tell the servant to bring the Ipasacá mo sa bata ang maleta nga portmanteau, it is on the coach, up tua didto sa coche. stairs. Tell him to carry this letter to Ipadalá mo cania quining sulat sa the post-office. correo. Send them for grass for the horse. Ipahatud mo canila ug compay sa cabayo. 4. a The present and past tenses of the second passive, are formed with Guipa, before the root; the future and imperative by putting Pa before the root, and On after; and the infinitive mood with Pagpa, before. PRESENT. I make it known. Guipahibalo co. PAST. I made it known. Guipahibalo co. FUTURE. You will make it known. Pahibaloon mo. IMPERATIVE MOOD. Make it known. Pahibaloon mo, pahibaloa. 5.a The sentences of this passive are formed by putting the object upon which the action falls in nominative case: the verb, in passive voice; in genitive, the errand person; and in accusative that who performs the thing, if there be. Ex: I ordered the servant to call the Guipa-anhi co sa bata ang tailor. magtatahi. Did you order to buy the hemp I Guipapalit mo ba ang lanot nga recommended you? guitogon co canimo? Order your sister to sew the Patahion mo sa sinina ang imong shirt, because the Easter is igso-on, cay hadool na ang Pasco. approaching. 6.a The present and past tenses of passive the third, are formed by putting Guipa, before the root and An after: the future and the imperative with Pa before, and An after; and the infinitive mood by placing Pagpa, before the root. I order or I ordered to sweep. Guipasilhigan co. You will order to sweep. Pasilhigan mo, pasilhigi. Order to sweep. Pasilhigan mo. Try to carry me to your house, for Ipadangat mo acó unta sa imong I do not feel very well. balay, cay masáquitsáquit acó. When God be pleased to take us Cun padangaton quitá sa Dios sa into heaven, we shall enjoy with langit, pagahiagoman ta ang mga everlasting pleasures. ca-ayohan nga langitnon. Please accept the present I send Dauata ang regalo nga guipadalá co you, as a proof of your presence canimo, sa tima-an sa acong in my thoughts. paghinumdum canimo. 7.a The sentences of this passive are formed by placing the spot, person or thing in nominative case; the verb in the third passive; the orderer in genitive; in dative the errand-boy, and in accusative the errand. Examples: I have told you, to pay the Guipasoholan co canimo ang mga workmen three mex a day. magbubuhat tagotlo capisos ang adlao. Would to God, that the Judge Agad pa unta, nga pabayran acó compel them to restore me the one canila sa hocom sa usá ca gatús ca hundred dollars they have stolen pisos nga guicauat nila canaco. from me. Have the kindness to tell your Ug ma-arang sa imong buut, cousin to help me to load the patabangan mo acó sa imong ig-agao cocoa-nuts into the vessel. sa paglulan sa mga lubi sa sacayan. 8.a The negative sentences are formed in Bisaya by means of the adverbs Dili, uala and ayao. Dili is employed in the future sentences, and is formed with the particles of imperative mood, and sometimes of indicative. Uala, is made use of, when the sentence is of past time, and is formed like Dili. Ayao, is employed to forbid any thing, and its sentences are formed with the particle pag, and sometimes with mag. Examples: Think about the four last things, Maghunahuna ca sa mga caolahian mo and you will not sin. ug dili icao macasalá. You did not hear mass this Caniha sa buntag uala icao morning. sumingba. Compel me not to eat because I am Ayao icao maglugus canaco sa not fond of that. pagcaon, cay dili acó mahagugma niana. Exercise XVII. How far are we going?--We are going as far as the Church--Are you going as far as the river?--No: I am going as far as Dauis--Have you ever stolen any thing?--I have never stolen any thing--Do you dye any thing?--I dye my hat--What color do you dye it?--I dye it black--Do you get your hat dyed?--I get it dyed green--What hat has the boy?--He has two hats, a white one and a black one--How far does this road lead?--It leads as far as Baclayon--Where does your friend live?--He lives on this side of the road--Is the garden of your sister on this or that side of the wood?--It is on that side--Would you be sorry if your mother were to arrived to day?--I should rather be gladded for it--Are you angry with me?--No: I am angry with Miss. Valeriane who went to the ball without telling me a word of it. EIGHTEENTH LESSON OF THE PARTICLE NAGAPACA. NAGAPACA. l.a This particle is composed of Naga and Pa and its active tenses are formed according to the rules above mentioned for Naga adding paca invariably. The passive voice is formed with Guipaca or Pinaca, for the present and past tenses; and the future and imperative, with Paca, before, and on after the root. This particle admits but the second and third passives and signifies to feign what the root signifies. But when added to abstracts nouns or to neuter verbs, signifies to do heartily what the root signifies. Ex: Saint Joseph was considered as the Si San José guipaca-amahan sa Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. atong Guino-ong Jesucristo. Do not pretend to be mad, less we Ayao camé pacabu-angbu-angan, esteem you as such a one. tingali oña pacabu-angbu-angon icao namo. Our Lord Jesus Christ became man Ang atong Guino-ong Jesucristo in the chaste womb of the Virgin nagpacatao sa ulay nga tian ni Mary. Maria Virgen. I will consider you as a father to Paca-amahanon co icao. me. 2.a Before nouns of time signifies to do till the root points out, and then is rendered into Bisaya by Guica, as: He spent the night in praying. Guicabuntagan sia sa pagampo. 3.a This particle is employed also when we make use of a thing out of its natural employment. Thus: My broad hat serves me for an Guipacapayong co ang calo co nga umbrella. halapad. A bottle serves me for a Pinacacandelero co ang usá ca candlestick. boteya. 4.a When in the sentence there is an expression pointing out doubt or incertitude, it is translated into Bisaya by Cahá, Examples: How much can that horse be worth? ¿Pilay bale cahá nianang cabayo? It is worth twenty dollars. Caluha-an ca pisos (bulaoan). Better. Ma-ayo cay, ma-ayo sa. Your servant is better than mine. Ma-ayo ang imong sologoon cay sa aco. Not yet. Dili pa, ualá pa. Does the child return you your Guiuli ba sa batang diutay canimo book? ang libro mo? He does. Guiuli na. Where are you coming from? ¿Di-in ca guican? From what place? ¿Di-in?, ¿Dis-a? I am coming from Tagbilaran. Guican acó sa Tagbilaran. Whose? ¿Quinsa? Whose hat is this? Quinsa ba ang tag-iya ni-ining calo? The afternoon. Ang hapon. Noon. Odto. The dinner. Ang paníodto. The breakfast. Ang pamahao. The supper. Ang panihapon. After me. Sa human na acó. Exercise XVIII. Is it right to laugh thus at every body?- I laugh at your clothes, I do not laugh at every body-- Does your daughter resemble any one?--She resembles no one--Can you not get rid of that man?--I can not get rid of him, for he will absolutely follow me--Has he not lost his wits?--It may be--What does he ask you for?--I do not know--Whose gun is that?--It is my uncle's--Who are those men? --The one who is dressed in white is my neighbour, and who is dressed with black it is the son of the physician, who has given my neighbour a blow with a stick--Are there many learned in Roma; are there not?--Milton asked a Roman "Not so many as when you were there" answered the Roman. NINETEENTH LESSON OF THE PARTICLE NACA. NACA. 3.a This particle is divided into potential and causal. The potential naca, signifies to do in fact, what the root to which precedes points out, containing in itself the faculty of doing. This is the reason why the English verbs to can, to be able, are not translated into Bisaya. In the active voice the present and past tenses are formed with the particle naca, and the future and imperative with maca. When speaking in passive voice, the present and past are formed with na, and the future and imperative by means of ma. Instead of naca and maca, are used nacag and macag respectively, when the signification of the root is often done. These rules will be more easily understood by the following examples: The wounded horse can already walk Ang cabayong guisamad-an a little. nacalacao-lacao na. The sick man is already able to get Ang masaquiton nacatindug na. up. I can not eat. Dili acó macagcaon. I have murmured against you very Nacaglibác acó canimo sa often. masubsub. They will be not able to overtake Dili na sia cahá maapas, cay tua him, for he is, I think, far na sa halayo. distant. I can not sleep. Dili acó macatolog. When my Father died, my Mother was Sa pagcamatay ni Tatay, ang acong not able to weep. Inahán ualá macahilac. 2.a Besides the particle naca, the Bisaya dialect has some other words compensatory of the English verbs, to can, to be able, such as arang, gahúm and himo employed sometimes alone, and some times in composition with naca. Arang, signifies to possess power of doing any thing, but subordinated to another. Examples: If I could afford, I would buy a Ug ma-arang pa acó, mu-palit acó fine horse. unta ug usa ca ma-ayong cabayo. If you please, give me some Ug ma-arang sa imong bu-ut, tagai, medicine. acó ug tambal. Can you afford to buy that ¿Macapalit ca ba nianang cabayo? horse? I can afford it. Arang co paliton. How is the sick? ¿Comusta ang masaquit? He is so so. Arang-arang na sia. Gahúm, signifies vigour, strength, courage, and it is employed in both material and moral acceptations, as: I am an old man. Tigulang na acó, or uala na acoy gahúm. Did you dare to rob your ¿Ngano nacagahúm ca sa pagpangauat sa master? imong agalon? Himo, signifies to possess the power of doing any thing, as: Can you make it? Macahimo ca ba niana? I could make it, but I have not Macahimo acó unta, apan uala acoy tools. hilimoan. What is impossible with men, God Ang dili mahimo sa mga taoo, mahimo can do. sa Dios. Is it possible? Mahimo ba? It is possible. Mahimo man. The authority. Cagamhanan. Our Lord Jesus Christ left to his Ang mga ilis ni Jesucristo ministers the power of forgiving guitaga-an nia sa cagamhanan sa sins. pagpa-saylo sa mga salá. Exercise XIX. Why do you associate with those people?--I associate with them because they are useful to me--If you continue to associate with them you will get into bad scrapes, for they have many enemies--Do you know a good place to swim in?--I know one--Where is it?--On the side of the river behind the wood, near the high road--When shall we go to swim?--This evening if you please--Will you wait for me before the city gate?--I shall wait for you there, but I beg you not to forget it--You know that I never forget my promises--Is this man angry with you?--I think he is angry with me, because I do not go to see him; but I do not like to go to his house, for when I go there, instead of receiving me with pleasure, he looks displeased--Why do you look so sad?--I have experienced great misfortunes--You must not afflict yourself so much, for you know that we must yield to necessity--But, bless me, why do you cry so? TWENTIETH LESSON OF THE PARTICLE NACA-CAUSAL. NACA-Causal. This particle is made use of, when the nominative produces on the accusative, that which the root signifies. It is also a nominative of this particle the cause or place where the effect is produced. The active voice is conjugated according to the rules laid down for naca potential. The scholar must pay particular attention to this particle in order to use it properly in its two acceptations. The potential naca, is compounded but with roots of active verbs, and the causal with those of neuter verbs and of adjective nouns. The present and past tenses of this passive are formed by putting guica, before the root and an after; the future and imperative with ca, before and an after: and the infinitive mood placing pagca or ca, before. Remark. At Cebú and Bohol provinces is very often used na, instead of guica, with an invariably after the root. Examples: Of what illness did John die? ¿Onsay namatyan or guicamatyan ni Juan? He was struck with fever. Ang hilanat maoy namatyan nia. 2.a When speaking with this particle the natives insert between the subject and the verb, the verb maoy or mao, and ang, to express with more energy and precision the causality idea. Remark. The recoleto P. Zueco, of great authority on the matter says, that the verb mao, must be always inserted between, both in active and passive voices, when speaking with the particle naca causal. Thus: ACTIVE. The medicine did well with the Ang tambal maoy naca-ayo sa sick. masaquit. PASSIVE. The medicine &. Ang tambal maoy guica-ayohan sa masaquit. 3.a When speaking by means of this particle in passive voice, the subjective and the objective cases stand invariably, changing only the verb. Examples: What did your brother die of? ¿Onsa ba ang guicamatyan sa igso-on mo? He died of fever. Ang hilanat maoy guica-matyan nia. Our Lord Jesus Christ died Ang usa ca macaulao nga Cruz maoy nailed to a shameful cross. guicamatyan sa atong Guino-ong J.C. The just man, pities his Giucasaquitan sa taong matarung ang neighbours sufferings. mga saquit sa iyang isigcataoo. Why? ¿Ngano?, ¿Mano?. Because. Cay. For what reason? ¿Onsay hinungdan cay? Why did you become sick? ¿Onsay hinungdan cay guisaquit ca? Will you give me the cocoa you ¿Bu-ut ca ba muhatag canaco sa cacao have? nga na-a canimo? I will give it to you. Bu-ut acó muhatag canimo sa acong cacao. Can you drink as much wine as Macainom ba camó sa vino ug sa gatas milk? nga magsama sa cadaghan? We can drink as much of the one Macainom camé sa usa ug sa usa nga as of the other. magsama sa cadaghan. Can our neighbours children ¿Macabuhat ba ang mga anac sa mga work? silingan ta? They can, but are not willing Macabuhat sila, apan dili sila bu-ut. to work. Whom do you wish to answer? ¿Quinsa ba ang bu-ut nimo baslan? I wish to answer my good Bu-ut acó magbalus sa acong mga friends. higalang ma-ayo. Where is your son? ¿Hain ba ang anac mo? He is at the street Tua sa dalan. Why do you laugh? ¿Onsa ba ang guicatao-an niñó? I am coming to work to-morrow. Muanhi acó ugma cay aron magbuhat acó. The Almighty God. Ang Macagagahúm sa ngatanan. Exercise XX. What is the price of this cloth?--I sell it at six reals (tolo ca cahate) the rod--It seems to me very dear--Will you have the kindness to show me some other pieces of that new cloth?--I am ready to serve you--Does this red cloth suit you?--It does not suit me--Why so?--Because it is too dear--Are you learning Bisaya?--Yes, I am learning it--Who is your teacher?--A Recoleto Father--Does he teach also English?--Yes, he teaches English to the natives, and also Spanish to his American friends--I wish to make his acquaintance, wherefore, I beg of you to introduce me to him--I should like to know, why I do not know to speak as well as you?--I will tell you: you would speak as well as I if you were not so timid; but if you had studied well your lessons, you would not be afraid to speak; because in order to speak well, it is necessary to have knowledge of, and it is very natural that he who does not know well what he has learned, should be timid, if you were sure to make not faults, you would be not timid. TWENTY FIRST LESSON OF THE PARTICLES MI AND NA. MI. The particle mi, signifies to do what the root points out, and is ordinarily compounded with verbs denoting motion. It is formed by putting mi, before the root for present tense, min for past, and mu for the future. The imperative mood is formed with um before the root, when begins with a vowel; but when with a consonant, um must be placed between the first and the second radical letters. Ex: When will the steamer arrive? ¿Anus-a ba muabut ang vapor? My father arrived yesterday. Cahapon minabut si Tatay. Who has arrived at the town? ¿Quinsa ba ang minabut sa longsod? I wish to enter, in order to speak Musulud unta acó, sa pagsulti sa with the Captain. Capitan. Make haste, it is my master Dumali ca, cay guipa-abut ca man waiting you. sa agalon co. Do you wish to dine? ¿Bu-ut ba camó cumaon? We wish to eat, but we do not wish Bu-ut camé cumaon, apan dili camé to drink. bu-ut uminom. Do you wish to drink any thing? ¿Bu-ut ba camó uminom bisan onsa? I do not wish to drink any thing. Dili acó bu-ut muinom bisan onsa. NA l.a The particle na, is joined to the neuter verbs and signifies what the root points out. In active voice is made use of na for present and past tenses, and of ma, for the future. In passive voice the tenses are formed by placing na, before the root and an after, for present and past; and ma, before the root and an after, for the future tense. This particle serves also to point out the place or cuasi-place of the action. These passive particle sentences are formed by putting in subjective case the place or cuasi-place, and the verb in its correspondent tense. Ex: Going through the forest a branch Sa pag-agui co didto sa came upon me. cacahuyan nahologan acó sa usá ca sangá. My house was destroyed by the fire. Nasunug ang acong balay. He fell from the cocoa-tree, and Naholog sa lubí ug namatay. died. He was struck with asthma, and died Guihangus sia ug nalumus. of asphyxia. Take care, that you do not fall. Maholog ca bayá. 2.a The neuter verbs of action, are formed by means of the particles of active verbs maga or mi, as: I did go up. Minsacá acó. The bird flew away. Ang langgam minlupad. Where are you taking me to? As-a guidalá acó nimó? I will take you to my father's Dad-on ta icao sa camalig sa amahan yard. co. To walk. Soroy-soroy, Lacat-lacat, Lacao-lacao. Are you walking? ¿Nagasoroy-soroy ca ba? I am walking. Nagasoroy-soroy acó. When does your father walk? ¿Anus-a magasoroy-soroy ang imong amahan? He walks as early as you. Nagalacao-lacao sia sa masayó ingon canimo. Early. Masayó, Sa masayó. It is early. Buntag pa man. It is too late. Hata-as na ang adlao. Enough, Too. Igo, Hinlabihan. Do you speak more than enough. ¿Hinlabihan ba ang imong pagsulti? No; I speak moderately. Dili: casarangan ang acong pagsulti. Already. Na. Yet. Pa. Not yet. Dili pa, Uala pa. Do you speak Bisaya yet? ¿Nagasulti ca na ba ug Binsaya? Not yet. Dili pa. I do not speak yet. Dili pa acó magasulti. Never. (future.) Dili sa guihapon. No; never (past.) Uala, Sugud. Seldom. Tagsa ra, Talagsa ra. How many times? ¿Nacapila?, ¿Macapila? One, Twice. Nacausa, Nacaduha. Many times. Nacadaghan. Heretofore, formerly. Canhi pa, Sa canhi pa. Exercise XXI. Of what illness did your brother die?--He died of fever--How is your brother?--My brother is not longer living, he died last week--He was very well last year, when I was in Tagbilaran--Of what illness did he die?--He died of small-pox--How is the mother of your friend?--She is not well, she had an attack of ague the day before yesterday, and this morning the fever has returned--Do your pupils learn their exercises by heart?--They will rather tear them than learn them by heart--Why does the mother of our servant shed tears?--She sheds tears because the Father, our friend, who used to give her alms, died four days ago--Of what illness did he die?--He died oppressed by his old age--Will you help me to work when we go to Panglao?--I will help you to work, if you help me now to get a livelihood--How does your sister like those oranges?--She likes them very well, but she says that they are a little too sweet--Do you wish to dine here?--I will dine here, provided that you had prepared a good meal. TWENTY SECOND LESSON OF THE PARTICLES NANAG AND NAN. NANAG. The particle nanag, is employed when the agent is more than one. The present and past tenses are formed by means of nanag; and the future and imperative with manag. When speaking in passive voice, the present and past are formed by putting guipanag, before the root, and the future and imperative, with panag, before and on after, as: The children are waiting for their Ang mga bata nanaghulat sa ilang teacher. magtoto-on. The children will read. Ang mga bata managbasa. The carabaos have destroyed the Ang mga calabao nanagpanggubá sa circle. siclat. Our Lord Jesus Christ redeemed us Quitáng tanan gnipanglucat sa all, from the power of the devil. atong J.C. sa cabihagan sa yaoa. Forgive them, for they know not Pasaylo-a sila, cay ualá sila what they do. mahibaló sa guipanagbuhat nila. To depart, to go out. Guican At what time do you wish to leave? ¿Anus-a camó bu-ut muguican? We wish to leave now. Bu-ut camé muguican caron. To thank, (to God or the Saints) Pagpasalamat. To thank, (to the men) Pagdios magbayad. I thank you for the trouble you Nagadios magbayad acó canimo sa have taken for me. cabudlay mo tungud canaco. How high?, of what height? ¿Onsa ba ang cata-ason? Of what height is your house? ¿Onsa ba ang cahitas-on sa imong balay? To save anybody's life. Pagbaui sa quinabuhi. To dispute, to contend about some Paglalis, pagindig-indig. thing. About what are these people ¿Onsay guilalisan nianang mga tao? disputing? They are disputing about who shall Cun quinsa ba ang mu-ona, mao go first. ilang guila-lisan. They are contending about the Nanagindig-indig sila tungud sa signification of the Bisaya word, polong binisaya, Lagui. "Lagui". Even, not even. Dili pa ngani. He has not even money enough to Dili pa ngani igo ang salapi nia buy some wine. sa pagpalit ug vino. By no means. Dili gayud mahimo. NAN. The particle nan, is made use of to point out the continuance of an action, to give particular energy to the object, and also when the agent person is more than one. The active tenses present and past, are formed with nan, and the future and imperative with man. In passive voice is made use of guipa, for the former tenses, and of pa, for the latter. The use of the change of letters, very usual in this particle, is explained about the end of the 15.a Lesson, Page 58, which the learned is desired to consult. Remark. The roots compounded with the particle nan, may be also recompounded with the particle naca potential, according to its active conjugation; but in such a case, says the P. Zueco, if the first syllable of the root is a consonant, pang, must be inserted between naca, and the root, as: The sick talks nonsense. Nacapangyamyam ang masaquit. The men are kneeling Ang mga lalaqui nacapanglohod. The women will kneel Ang mga babaye nanlohod. Kneel down. Manlohod camé. Exercise XXII. Are you a judge of horses?--I am a judge of horses--Will you buy one for me?--If you will give me the money I will buy you two--Is that man a judge of cloth?--He is not a good judge of it--How do you manage to do that?--I will show you how I manage it--What must I do for my lesson of to morrow?--You will make a fair copy of your exercises, do three others, and study the next lesson--How does your brother manage to learn Bisaya without a dictionary?--He manages it very dexterously--Have you already seen my son?--I have not seen him yet--How is he?--He is very well, you will not be able to recognize him, for he has grown very tall in a short time--What kind of weather is it?--It is very warm--Is it long time since we had any rain?--No; and I believe we shall have to-day a storm--It may be--The wind rises, it is thundering, do you hear it?--Yes, I hear it: but the storm is still too far--Not so far as you think--Do you not see how it lightens?--Bless me! what a shower!--If we go into some place, we shall be sheltered from the storm. TWENTY THIRD LESSON OF THE PARTICLES NAQUIG AND NAQUI. NAQUIG. The particle naquig, signifies to stimulate to perform what the root points out, and is employed with reciprocal verbs, and those implying company in the action. The present and past tenses of active voice, are formed by means of naquig, and the future and imperative with maquig. It may be recomposed with the particle naga, but in this case changes the letter n into p. The signification does not undergo any change. Examples: I invite you to go up to the tower. Naquigsacá acó canimo sa latorre. This man has been challenging me to Nagapaquigaoay quining tao fight. canaco. The horses excite themselves to Ang mga cabayo naquigaoay. quarrel. The children will excite themselves Ang mga bata maquigaoay. to fight. To excite, to exhort. Agdá Excite your heart to the repentance Agdahon mo ang imong of your sins. casingcasing sa paghinulsul sa mga salá mo. NAQUI. This particle signifies to beg, to implore, to entreat, and also, to fancy or to give one's mind to that which the root refers to, points out. The present and past of this particle are conjugated by means of naqui, and the future and imperative with maqui. This particle like the preceding naquig, may be recomposed with naga, changing also the initial n into p. When the action falls upon the subject, naqui is translated into napaqui, being napaqui, for the present and past, mapaqui, for future, and paqui or mapaqui for the imperative mood. Examples: The beggars are asking alms. Ang mga hangul naquilimos or nagapaquilimos. I beg you to explain this to me. Paquisayran mo acó niini. Did you ask help from Mr. Peter? ¿Napaquitabang ca ba can Sr. Pedro? Beg God's mercy, then God does not Paquimalo-oy ca sa Dios, cay ang despise to the sinner who begs of Dios magapasaylo sa macasasalá nga Him pardon. maquipasaylo cania. As to, As for.... Sa tungud sa.... As to me.... Sa tungud canaco.... As to that, I do not know what to Sa tungud niana, ambut cun onsay say. ipamolong co. I do not know what to do. Ambut or inay, cun onsay bububaton co. I do not know where to go. Ambut cun asay adto-on co. I do not know what to answer. Ambut cun onsa ba ang itubág co. To knock at the door. Pagtoctoc sa pultahan. To distrust one. Dili pagsalig. We must not trust every body. Dili quitá maeasalig sa mga tao ngatanan. To get into a bad scrape Pagsamuc. That man is ever getting into bad Canang tao nangita guihapon sa mga scrapes, but he always gets out of casamuc, apan nahigaoas guihapon them again. sia. To become acquainted with some Pagpaquig-higala. one. I have become acquainted with Mr Naquighigala acó can Sr. Gilbert, Gilbert, because he is a good cay maayong amigos sia. friend. To resemble some one. Ingon-ingon ug dag-oay. This lady resembles my sister. Quining babaye maingonlugon ug dag-oay sa igso-on cong babaye. You look like a federal. Ingon ug federal ang imong dag-oay. To spring forward. Pagdamag. The dog jumps upon the rabbit. Ang cornejo guidamagan sa iró. To lose one's wits. Pagcabu-ang. This Lady has lost his wits, and Quining Señora nabuang, ug dili she does not know what to do, sia mahibaló sa guibuhat nia unhappy woman! lintaon! Exercise XXIII. Being lately (sa usá ca adlao) in town, I received a letter from your teacher in which he strongly complained of you--Do not weep--now go into your room learn your lesson, and be a good boy (magma-ayo ca) otherwise (cun dili) you will get nothing for dinner--I shall be so good, my dear father, that you will certainly be satisfied with me--What must be do in order to be happy?--Love and practise virtue, and you will be happy both in this life and in the next--Since (cay) we wish to be happy, let us do good to the poor, and let us have pity on the unlucky (nalisdan)--Let us obey our masters, and never give them any trouble--How has my son behaved towards you?--He has behaved well towards me, for he behaves well towards every body--His father told him often: the behavior of others is but an echo of our behavior; if we behave well towards them, they will also behave well towards us; but if we use them ill, we must not expect, (dili atong pa-abuton) better from them, (ang batasan nila nga ma-ayo canato). TWENTY FOURTH LESSON OF THE PARTICLES NAHA, NAHI, NAPA, NASIG, NASIGHI, NANGI, NANHI, NANIG, NANUM, NANI. NAHA or NAHI. This particle is used to express that the action of the verb to which is joined, took place out of mind, or by chance. The present and past tenses are formed with naha or nahi; the future and imperative mood by putting maha or mahi and the infinitive mood with paha or pagpaha before the root. When speaking in passive, the present and past are formed with the particle hin, and the future and imperative with hi. The particle naha admits only the passive of an, or the 3d passive, excepting the verb gugma which must be conjugated by the passive of on. The roots Budlay, Butang and Bu-ut, change their initial B into M, to form the verbs. To rest. Pagpahamudlay. To put one's in due place. Pagpahamutang. To be pleased with. Pagpahimu-ut Examples: I do not speak on purpose. Nahanayan acó sa pagsulti, or guihinaycan co ang pagsulti. He quite alone is enjoying of Nagahiagom sia nga usá ra sa cabilin our father's inheritance. sa amahán namo. Pardon me, I have trodden on you Pasaylo-a acó, cay naha-tonób acó unwillingly. canimo. Take rest for a moment, then Magpahamudlay usa camó cadiot, cay your walk was too far distant. hata-as man ca-ayo ang pagsoroy-soroy niñó. Who does live in state of grace, Ang nahamutang sa pagcabutang sa will obtain after his dead, the gracia, sa oras sa iyang camatayon, everlasting life. macadangat sa quinabuhi nga dayon. Thou art my beloved son, in whom Icao man ang nahigugma cong anác, I have pleased myself. nga guihimu-utan co. Love God with all your heart. Higugmaon ang Dios sa tibo-oc nga casingcasing mo. NAPA. This particle is joined to the reflexive verbs, and signifies what the root points out. The present and past tenses are formed with napa; the future with mapa, and the imperative by means of pa. Examples: He remained at home to play. Napabilin sia sa balay sa pagdula-dula. Distrust of flattering words. Ayao icao palimbong sa mga maghohopo nga mga polong. Why do you remain here? ¿Nganong napabilin ca dinhi? I shall remain here till Mapabilin acó dinhi cutub ugma. to-morrow. Remain here. Pabilin ca. Remark. As it may be seen by the examples, this particle has no passive voice. NASIG. This particle is placed before roots of reflexive verbs, and it is the most proper to express reciprocalness. Like the preceding, it has not passive voice, and its active tenses are formed with nasig the present and past, and by means of masig the future and imperative. As: They two hate each other. Nasigdumut silang du-há. Come to an agreement between Masigsabút camó. yourselves. Help one another to reap as soon as Masigtabang camó, aron madali may be your ricegrounds. mahumán ang pagga-ad sa iñong mga basac. NASIGHI. This particle, as well as nasig signifies reciprocalness, but depending on any one circumstance. Its tenses are formed with nasighi and masighi respectively. It is also in lack of passive. Love one another, and you will be Masighigugma camó ug mapaladan happy. camó. Arthur and Mary love each other. Si Arturo ug si Maria nasighiugma sila. NANGI. The particle nangi, is employed but with the root Laba, which signifies to ask for protection, to beg, to beseech any thing from God or from the Saints. Its tenses are formed with nangi and mangi respectively; and the passive by means of guipangi: the present and past tenses and with pangi the future and imperative moods. Examples: I will beg the God's grace, in this Mangilaba acó sa Dios ni-ining trouble I am feeling. cayugot nga guiantus co. Beg His assistance to be delivered Pangilaba mo sia aron bauion ca from that temptation. nianang panolay. NANHI This particle governs only the roots Coco, Bungut and Quiqui. The active tenses are formed with nanhi and manhi; and in passive voice with guipanhi and panhi respectively. Examples: He cuts himself the nails. Nanhingoco sia. He cleans himself the teeth. Nanhingiqui sia. He is shaving himself. Nanhimungut sia. NANIG. It is used before the adverb ingon, and signifies to imitate. It is conjugated with nanig and manig and with guipanig and panig respectively. NANUM. The particle nanum, is only used with the root Balay, Ex: You are always running from house to house. Nanumbalay camó guihapon. NANI. This particle precedes to the roots Odto and hapon: and admits the three passives. Thus: We have just dined. Naniodto na camé. Serve them the dinner. Paniodtohon mo sila. Will you take the supper here?. Manihapon ba camó dinhi? Exercise XXIV. How do you do?--Very well at your service--And how are all at home, your parents and your brothers?--Tolerably well, thank God--As for you, you are health itself: you cannot look better--Please to sit down, here is a chair--I will not detain you from your business I know that a merchant's time is precious--I have nothing to do at present, I only wished in passing, to inquire about your health--You do me much honor--What o'clock is it?--It is half past one--You say it is half past one, and by my watch (dinhi sa acong orasan) it is but half past twelve--Pardon me: (tabi canimo): it has not yet struck one--I assure you it is half-past one, for my watch goes very well--Who has arrived?--They say my cousin has arrived--Where does he come from?--He is coming from Manila--Has he spent a long time on the sea?--He has suffer a delay of fortnight, for the weather was very bad--Have you bought this hat in Manila?--I have not bought it, my cousin who has just arrived, has made me a present of it. TWENTY FIFTH LESSON IMPERSONAL VERBS. The impersonal verbs are those which express the atmospherical phenomena, and are only used in the third person singular, compounded with the particle naga or mi out of the roots init and Tugnao which are compounded with na. Ex: To dawn. Pagbanagbanag. To arrive at break of day. Pagcabuntag, eabuntagon. To grow dark. Pagcagabi-i, cagabhion. To rain like a deluge. Pagolan sa mabascug. To rain. Pagolan. To drizzle. Pagalindahao. To lighten. Pagquilat. To thunder. Pagdalogdog, paglugung. It is raining. Nagaolan man. Is it lightening? Nagaquilat ba? It is thundering. Nagadalogdog. Is it warm? ¿Mainit ba? No: it is cold. Dili; matugnao man. To behave well towards. Ma-ayo ang batasan sa. He behaves well towards his Ma-ayo ang batasan nia sa iyang cousin. ig-agao. To behave ill. Dautan ang batasan. He use ill his friends. Dautan ang batasan nia sa mga higala nia. As he was always behave well Cay ma-ayo guihapon ang batasan nia towards me, I will not use him canaco, ma-ayo usab ang batasan co ill. cania. In vain. Bisan onsaon. In vain I look around, I saw Bisan onsaon co pagtan-ao sa libut neither house nor man; not the co, ualá acó ma-caquita ug balay, ug least sign of dwelling. ug balay, ug tao ug tima-an sa puluy-anan. We search in vain, for what we Bisan onsaon ta pagpangita, dili have lost, we cannot find. quitá macaquita sa naualá canato. What do you mean? ¿Onsay bu-ut ipamolong mo? I mean, hallo! Bu-ut cong ipamolong idiay! That does not mean any thing. Cana ualay casayuran. As long, as. Cun, pa. As long as you behave well, Cun ma-ayo pa ang batasan mo, people will love you. higugmaon ca. Unless. Cun dili. If it should happen that. Cun pananglit, Cun cailignon pa unta. Although, Whatever. Bisan ogaling, Bisan dacó ogaling. Unless you speak her she will Cun dili ca magsulti cania, dili sia not answer you. mutu-bág canimo. Whatever be our patience,we will Bisan dacó ogaling ang pagantos ta never have enough. dili pa igo sa guihapon. Would to God! Unta, Hinaut unta. Would to God it were so! Agad unta nga mao cana ingon niana! May you be happy! Hinaut unta nga mapaladan ca! In order to.... Cay aron.... In order that.... Cay aron.... I send you this book in order Guipadalá co canimo quining libro that you may read it. cay aron basahon mo. By dint of. Tungud sa dacó. By dint of labour. Tungund sa dacong pag-buhat. The more, as. Ingon nga, labi pa cay. I am the more displeased with Ingon nga dili acó mu-angay sa imong your behaviour, as you are under batasan labi pa cay daghan ang utang many obligations to me. mong bu-ut canaco. Exercise XXV. Why is your mother troubled?--She troubles at receiving no news from her son who is in Spain--She must be not troubled about him, for whenever he gets into a bad scrape, he knows how to get out of it again--Last year, when we were to hunt together, night grow upon us (guicagabhian camé) very far from our house--Where did you pass the night?--At first I was very afflicted, but your brother not so: on the contrary, he tranquillized me, so that I lost my restlessness--We found at last a shepherd's hut where we spent the night--There I had opportunity to observe the cleverness of your brother--A few canes of a truss of straw served him to make a comfortable bed--He used a bottle as a candlestick, and with two or three birds he prepared the most comfortable supper--Where we awoke in the morning we were as rested and healthy as if we had slept on the most comfortable bed in the world. TWENTY SIXTH LESSON DEFECTIVE VERBS. The defective verbs of this dialect are employed but in coexistent past, putting the person in genitive case. They are eight in number, as follows: 1.o Apat, governs the subordinate verb in the subjunctive mood, as: You had better not come. Apat nga ualá icao muanhi. 2.o Buuti, signifies, from what I can see, in my opinion, and must be placed at the end of the sentence, Thus: In my opinion, that is what he Mao man cana, buuti ang gui-ingon said. nia. 3.o Matod or polong, is made use of, when citing the saying or sentence of any one, as: Says St. Austin. Matod or polong ni San Agustin. According to what I say or said. Matod co, polong co. According to what the holy Bible Matod sa santos nga Sulát. says. 4.o Abi. This verb is employed in the coexistent past, placing the personal pronoun in genitive case, as: Did you think I was not here? ¿Abi mo ba nga ualá acó dinhi? He thought I had told it. Abi nia acoy nagaingon. 5.o Bacut co, Baut co. It is employed with the first person of the absolute preterit of indicative mood, thus: I thought he would come home. Baut co nga muanhi sia sa balay. 6.o Ambut. I do not know where is the Father. Ambut hain ba ang Pare. 7.o Conó. This verb must be always placed at the end of the sentence, and answers to the English dictions "It is said" "They or people say". People say Mr. John has died. Namatay conó si señor Juan. It is said that she is very handsome. Ma-anindut conó sia. 8.o Bantug. It is a report that the Guibantug nga hado-ol ang mga insurgents are near. insurrecto. The story goes, Mr John died Bantug nga namatay cahapon si Sr. yesterday. Juan. How far? ¿Asa cutub? How far did you go? ¿Asa ba cutub adto icao? As far as there. Didto cutub. Knee high. Cutub (hasta) sa tohod. Down to the end of the street. Cutub sa catapusan sa dalan. The whole family down the very Ang mga caubanan nga tanan hasta sa cat and dog. iring ug iró. On this side. Dinhi sa luyó. Take care, for the snake is Magbantay ca, cay anha ra natago behind the door. ang saoa sa luyó sa tacop. Thus, So, In this manner. Ingon ni-ini. How this word is written? Guionsa ba ang pagsulát ni-ining polong? In this manner. Ingon ni-ini. Exercise XXVI. Why are you at variance with John?--Because he always finds faults with every thing he sees--What does that mean?--That means that I do not like to speak with you, because you are a liar--Do you wish to know why did not write your brother his exercise?--Because it was too difficult--He has sat up all night and has not been able to do it, because it was out of his reach (cay canang tema dili mahimo nia)--As soon as (igo) Peter sees me, he begins to speak Bisaya, in order to practise, (sa pagsumay-sumay) and overwhelms me with attentions; so that I often do not know what to answer. --His brothers do the same, however, (bisan pa niana) they are very good people--They are not only rich and amiable, but they are also generous and charitable.--They love me sincerely; therefore (busa) I love them also, and shall never say any thing against their reputation, I should love them still more (dacó pa ngani unta ang paghigugma co canila) if they did not make so much ceremony; but every man has his faults, aid my fault is to speak too much of their compliments. TWENTY SEVENTH LESSON PRACTICAL SENTENCES To die, to lose life. Pagcamatay. I shall die, for it is appointed Mamatay man acó, cay sugo man sa unto men one to die. Dios nga mamatay ang tao sa macausá da. The man died this morning, and Ang lalaqui namatay caniha sa his wife died also this buntag, ug ang asaoa nia caron afternoon. hapon. Far off, from far. Sa halayó. That picture is seen far off. Ma-ayo tan-aon canang cuadro sa halayó. What has become of your sister? ¿Naonsa ba ang imong igso-on nga babaye? I do not know, what has become of Ambut cun naonsa ba sia. her. What is your name? ¿Quinsay ngalan mo? My name is Hope. Si Esperanza ang ngalan co. How this is called in Bisaya? ¿Onsa ba ang ngalan ni-ini sa Binisaya? I do not know. Ambut, Inay. Rather, Rather than. Ona. He has arrived sooner than I. Sia miabut pagona canaco. Easy. Masayón. Difficult. Malisud. Useful. May pulus. Useless. Ualay pulus. Is it useful to write a good ¿May pulus ba ang pagsulát ca-ayo? deal? It is useful. May pulus man. It is bad, Wrong. Dautan man. Is it right to take the property ¿Ma-ayo ba ang pagcuha sa mga of others? manggad nga dili caugalingon? Opposite. Sa atubangan, Sa atbang. Opposite this house. Sa atubangan ni-ining balay. In several manners. Sa pagcalain-lain. You have written in several Guilain-lain mo ang pagsulál ug manners, but always bad. dautan guihapon ang pagsulát mo. I live opposite the Church. Nagapuyó acó atbang sa Singbahan. To be born. Pagcatao. Where were you born? ¿Hain ca ba natao? I was born in Tagbilaran. Natao man acó sa Tagbilaran. Where was your sister born? ¿Di-in ba natao ang imong igso-on nga babaye? She was born in Bais. Natao sia sa Bais To lose sight off. Pagcaualá sa matá. The steamer is so far off, that Ingon ca halayó ang vapor, nga sa we shall soon lose sight of it. madali ma-ualá sa mga matá ta. To suspect, To guess. Pagcatahap. I suspect what you have done. Natahap acó sa imong guibuhat. On purpose. Tinuyo Did you beat my dog on purpose? ¿Tinuyo (guituyo) mo ba ang paghampac sa iró co? Towards. Dapit. He comes towards me. Mianhi sia dapit canaco. Exercise XXVII. I suspected that you would be thirsty and your brother hungry; that is the reason (busa man ngani) I brought you hither--I am sorry, however, not to see your mother--Why do you not drink coffee?--If I were not sleepy I would drink it--Sometimes you are sleepy, sometimes cold, sometimes are you hungry and sometimes thirsty--A man having seen that old men used spectacles (nagasalamin) to read, went to a merchant and asked for a pair. The man then took a book, and having opened it, said the spectacles were not good. The merchant gave him another pair of the best, which he could find in his shop; but the man being still unable to read, the merchant said to him: "My friend, do you know how to read"?--If I know to read, answered the man, I should not want your spectacles. TWENTY EIGHTH LESSON PRACTICAL SENTENCES To be naked. Paghubo It is a man naked there. Didto may usá ca tao nga nahubo-an. I had like to have lost my money Diriot maualá ang acong salapi. He was very near falling. Diriot maholog sia. He was within a hair's breadth of Diriot papation sia. being killed. He had liked to have died. Diriot sia namatay. Thunderbolt. Linti. A thunderbolt struck the boat. Guilintian ang sacayan. The flower. Ang bulac. To blossom. Pagpamulac. To grow. Pagtubo. All over. Bisan asa, Bisan di-in. Under the shade. Sa landong. Let us sit down under the shade of Mulingcod quitá sa landong that tree. niadtong cahuy. This man pretends to sleep under Quining tao nagapacatolog dihá sa the shade of this table. landong ni-ining lamesa. Alone. Da, Lamang. I was there alone. Didto acó rang usá. One person only. Usá ra ca persona. One God and three persons. Usá ra ca Dios ug totoló ca personas. God alone can do this. Ang Dios lamang ang macabuhat ni-ini. He arrived poor, grew rich in a Sa pagabut nia, mahangul man sia, short time, and lost all in a nacasalapi sia sa macariot ug sa shorter time. macariot pa naualá cania ang ngatanan. Any thing to be over. Humán, Hurút. And now: what are you going to do? Ug caron: ¿onsay bubuhaton mo? Now I will say: "It is over". Caron muingon acó: "Tapus na, Human na". Exercise XXVIII. Being one day hunting the Emperor Charles V. lost his way in the forest, and having arrived to a house he went in, in order to rest himself. There were there four men, who affect to sleep. One of them got up, and approaching to the Emperor told him he had dreamed he should take his watch, and took it. Then another rose and said that he had dreamed his overcoat fitted him well, and took it. The third took his purse. At last, the four came up and said: "I hope you will not take it ill if I search you" and in doing it saw around the Emperor's neck a golden chain to which a whistle was tied, which he wishes to rob him of; but the Emperor said: "my good friend, before depriving me of this jewel (hias) I must teach you its virtue, and saying this, he whistled. His attendants who were seeking him, hastened to the house and were astonished of seeing his majesty in such a state. But the Emperor seeing himself out of danger (gaoas sa calisud) said: "behold, these men who have dreamed all that they like. I wish in my turn to dream" and after a short musing, he said: "I have dreamed that you all four deserve to be hanged" which was not sooner spoken than executed before the house. END. KEY TO THE EXERCISES I. ¿Na-a ba canimo ang pan? Oo, ania canaco ang pan. Na-a ba canimo ang imong pan? Ania canaco ang acong pan. Na-a ba canimo ang asin? Ania canaco ang asin. Na-a ba canimo ang acong asin? Ania canaco ang imong asin. Na-a ba canimo ang sabon? Ania canaco ang sabon. Onsa nga sabon ang ana-a canimo? Ania canaco ang imong sabon. Onsa nga sinina ang na-a canimo? Ania canaco ang acong sinina. Daghan ba ang imong salapi? Daghan man ang acong salapi. Hain ba ang imong igso-on nga babae? Tua didto sa tanaman sa mga bulac. Hain ba ang imong amahan? Ania dinhi. II. Ma-ayong buntag canimo: comusta ca? Ma-ayo man acó calo-oy sa Dios. Taga di-in ca ba? Taga España man acó. Taga di-in ca nga longsod? Taga Cornago. Hain ba ang acong libro? Ania canaco. Quinsa ba canang dalaga? Sia man si Catalina. Hain ba ang acong caban? Tua sa bata. Na-a ba canimo ang acong mga vaso nga matahum? Ania canaco. Na-a ba canimo ang mga matahum nga cabayo sa acong mga silingan? Ualá canaco. Quinsa ca ba? Acó man si Juan. Icao ba ang Amahan ni Pedro? Acó man. III. ¿Hain ba ang acong libro? Sa ilalom sa silla. Hain ba ang acong calo? Tua sa ibabao sa lamesa. Tua ba ang calo co sa ibabao sa lamesa? Ualá: tua sa ibabao sa higda-an. Guibasa mo ba ang libro? Ualá co basaba. Pila ca libro ang guisulát mo? Guisulát co usá. Sa nacapila ba icao nagbasa sa sulát? Sa nacadaghan na. Sa nacapila ba icao naghilac? Sa nacalima. Tagpila ang sohol canimo ang adlao? Tagudha ca peseta, ang adlao. Pila ba ca tuig ang imong edad? Caluha-an ug pito ca tuig ang acong edad. Pila ba ca tuig ang iyang edad? Ualá pa sia ug caluha-an ca tuig. Napasó ca ba? Tagsa ca tao, tagsa ca gugma. Nahigugma ca ba matolog? Dili: nahigugma acó magsulti. Nahadluc ca ba ni-ining tao? Dili acó mahadluc cania. Onsa nga oras ang imong paghigdá? Nagahigdá acó sa pagsalup sa adlao ug mibangon acó sa pagsubáng sa adlao. IV. ¿Asa ca ba paiugón? Muadto acó didto sa Singbahán. Na-a ba canimo quining pluma, cun cadto ba? Ualá canaco quini ug cadto, apan ania canaco cari. Canus-a sia minabut? Naca-abut sia cahapon maingon niaron. Hain ba sia? Tua sa balay. Nacapamolong ca ba ug binisaya? Ualá pa. Guipalit co ang cabayo nga guihisgutan mo canaco. Canus-a guipalit mo sia? Cahapon. Asa ca bu-ut magdalá canaco? Icapila quitá caron? Sa icacaluha-an ug usá ca adlao. Guisultihan co cadtong mga lalaqui nga guisultihan mo. Hain guisultihan mo sila? Guisultihan co sila sa dalan. V. Guiquita co ang mga batang diutay nga imong guihatagan sa mga libro; ug hinquit-an co upod, ang mga lalaqui nga imong guisultihan. Ang mga maquina-admanon macatuquib sa mga hata-as nga casayoran. Ang tao nga maloloy-on nalo-oy sa iyang isigcatao. Onsay bubuhaton mo? Dunay acong isulti sa mga tao. Anus-a ca ba magsulti canila? Caron gabi-i. Onsa nga oras? Sa á las ocho y media. Na-a ba canimo ang acong sinina, cun ang sinina sa acong igso-on? Ania canaco ang usa ug usá, Na-a ba canimo ang mga cintas nga bulaoan sa acong inahan? Ualá canaco. Hain ba? Tua sa acong igso-on. Mahagugma ca ba muguican? Dili acó mahagugma muguican. Ngano? Cay masaquít acó. VI. Magsama ang cadaghan sa salapi co ug sa salapi mo. Magsama ba ang cadaghanan sa mga higala mo ug ang aco? Diriot pa ang among salapi sa ila. Quining libro diutay man, cadto labi pang diutay ug cari mao ang labing diutay sa ngatanan. Quining calo dacó man, a pan cadto labi pang dacó. Ang imong calo dacó ba ingon sa aco? Ang acong calo dacó pa dili ang iñó. Ang pagsulat sa imong mga anac tagingon ba sa pagsulat namo? Ang pagsulat nila labi pa dili ang iñó. Daghan pa ang salapi sa acong amahan sa bulaoan nia. Ang singsing mo dili ingon nga ma-anindut sa can Nanay. Ang imong amahan culang (less) sa quina-adman sa amahan co. Diriot pa ang acong bugás sa capé. Nagabasa ca ba sa masubsub ingon canaco? Guipatalinhog mo ba ang gui-ingon canimo sa imong igso-on? Guipatalinhog co. Ang Dios mao ang ualay ingon nga Amahan. VII. Ang imong pagsulti sama sa aco. Diriot pa ang ílang mga libro dili ang ilang mga dula-an. Magsama ba ang cadaghanan sa mga libro mo ug ang aco? Diriot pa ang mga libro co sa imo. Magsama ba ang cadaghanan sa mga langgam sa atong amigo ug ang sa iyang mga pisó? Daghan pa ang mga langgam dili ang mga pisó. May catarungan camé sa pagsulti? May catarungan camó sa pagsulti, apan ualá camoy catarungan sa pagputul sa acong mga cahuy. Duna bay imong tiempo sa pagbuhat? Dunay acong tiempo, apan dili acó bu-ut. Bu-ut ca ba mupalit bisan onsa? Oo, bu-ut acó mupalit usá pa ca cabayo. Magsama ba ang cadaghan sa imong papel nga ma-ayo ug ang sa papel nga dautan? Magsama ang cadaghan sa usá ug ang sa usá. Magsama ba ang cadaghan sa dugús sa atong mga silingan ug ang sa ilang asucar? Daghan pa ang ilang dugús sa ilang asucar. Magsama ba ang cadaghan sa mga sinelas sa imong mga anac ug ang sa ilang mga sinina? Diriot pa ang ilang mga sinina dili ang ilang mga sinelas. Duna acó ing ihangyo canimo. VIII. ¿Quinsa ba ang Pare? Ang Pare mao ang ilis sa Dios ug mao man usab ang amahan sa mga calág. Ma-anindut ba ang mga bulac? Oo, ang mga bulac ngatanan ma-anindut man, apan ang labing ma-anidut mao ang asucena, tungud cay sia man ang maga-asuy sa pagcaulay, sa pagcacastos, sa pagcaputli, sa pagcaualay salá ug sa pagcaputóng. Taga di-in ca ba? Taga Aloran man acó, ang acong guinicanan taga Cornago, ang acong magulang taga Oroquieta ug ang acong manghod taga Tagbilaran. ¿Bu-ut mo ba ipadalá usa pa ca cabayo didto sa balay sa atong amigo? Bu-ut co ipadalí ug daghan pa. ¿Duha bay imong cuhaon? Mucuha acó ug bisan usá. ¿Onsa bay cuhaon mo? Mucuha acó ug vino. Duna bay guipacuha sa imong amahan? Oo, guipacuha nia ug vino. Quinsay guipacuha sa imong silingan? Guipacuha nia ang mananambal. Nagahubo ba sa sinina ang imong sologo-on sa pagdagcut sa calayo? Nagahubo sia sa sinina sa pagdagcut sa calayo. IX. ¿Anus-a ba muguican ang imong amahan? Caron adlao. Onsang orasa? Sa á las cuatro. Asa ba sia paingon? Muadto sia sa Madrid. Mupatay ba ang carnicero ug mga vaca? Mupatay sia ug mga carnero, labon nga mupatay sia unta ug mga vaca. ¿Guibocas mo ba ang calo sa pagsulti mo sa acong amahan? Guibocas co ang calo sa pagsulti cania. Muinóm ca ba ug capé, cun chá ba, sa buntag? Muinóm acó ug capé. Muinóm ca ba ug capé sa buntagbuntag? Muinóm acó ug capé sa buntagbuntag ug sa hapon-hapon. Onsay gui-inóm sa imong amahan? Muinóm man sia ug chicolate. Asa ba cutub naca-adto caniha sa buntag ang mga batanar diutay? Naca-adto sila didto cutub sa balay sa ilang ig-agao. Guicaoatan ca ba ug bisan onsa? Guicaoatan man acó sa usá ca cabayo nga ma-ayo. X. ¿Macasoroy-soroy ca ba idiay! ug dili ca ba maca-adto sa Singbahan? Dili acó maca-adto sa Singbahan, cay masaquít acó. May gahúm ca ba sa pag-antos niana? Ayao ca magpacama-alam, cay cabús icao ug hunahuna. Bu-ut ca ba magbuhat? Bu-ut acó magbuhat ug dili acó tugutan nila. Hain ba ang imong asaoa? Ambut. Anus-a guiquita mo sia? Naquita co sia sa á las siete sa buntag. Quinsa ba ang imong guisultihan? Nagasulti acó sa acong igso-on nga babaye. Guisultihan mo ba sia sa adlao ngatanan? Onsay calingaoan ni-ining tao? Maoy usá ca tampalasan nga nalingaolingao sa pag-inóm ug sa pagsugál. Quinsa ba ang mga tao nga bag-o pa minabut? Taga Rusia man sila. Sa catapusan; miabut na ba ang imong amahan? Ang mga taong tanan muingon nga miabut na, apan ualá co sia maquita. Nacadaut ba ang mananambal sa imong anac? Nacadaut man cania, cay nacaputul sa todlo nia. XI. ¿Miangay ca ba sa imong sologo-on? Miangay acó ca-ayo cania, cay mahibaló sia sa ngatanan. Napauli ba ang imong igso-on guican sa España? Napauli na sia guican sa España, ug guidad-an ca nia ug usá ca cabayo nga ma-ayo. Gui-ingón ba nia ang sologo-on nga hatdan acó nia niana? Gui-ingnon sia nga ihatud nia canimo. Onsa ba sa imong paghunahuna? Ma-anindut ug ma-ayo man, sa acong pagsabut, ug magahangyo acó canimo nga ihatud mo didto sa balay sa acong igso-on, cay aron maquita nia. ¿Onsa ba ang imong calingaoan cahapon? Naca-adto man acó didto sa balay sa acong ugangan, ug dihádihá naca-adto man acó sa sayao. ¿Canus-a ba nanaog cadtong tao dihá sa atabay? Nanaog sia caniha sa buntag. ¿Nacasacá na ba sia pagusáb? Dugay na usá ca oras nga minsacá sia pagusáb (or) (nga nagusáb sia pagsacá). Hain ba ang igso-on mo? Tua sa iyang cuarto. Bu-ut mo ba sia ingnon nga manaog sia? Bu-ut acó, apan ualá pa sia mag-ilis. XII. ¿Onsay guipangabuhi sa among mga guinlioatan? Ang isdá ug ang mga langgam nga bihag mao rá ang ilang pagpangabuhi, cay sa adlao-adlao nanagat ug namusil man sila. Icao nagto-on sa imong lección, ngano nga ualá ton-i sa imong igso-on nga babae ang iya? Nagsoroy-soroy sia uban sa acong Inahan; busa, ualá sia macato-on sa iyang lección, apan ton-an nia ogmá. Anus-a ba saoayon mo ang acong mga tema? Saoayon co cun dad-an mo acó sa mga tema sa igso-on mo. Nagahunahuna ca ba, nga nasayóp ca dihá nianang imong mga tema? Ambut. Cun nasayóp ca, ualá ca magestudio pagayo sa imong mga lección, cay quinahanglan ang pagto-on ug ma-ayo sa mga lección, aron dili quitá ma-sayóp dihá sa mga tema. Mao sa guihapon; cun dili saoayon mo caron, dili acó magato-on niana hasta ogma. Quinahanglan ang dili pagcasayóp dihá sa mga tema; cay na-a man canimo ang ngatanan nga quinahanglan, cay aron dili ca masayóp. Quinsa ba dihá? Acó man. Quinsa ba canang mga tao? Ambut. Taga di-in ba sila? Taga America man sila. Ngano nga nagalingcod ca do-ol sa calayo? Matugnao ang acong camút ug ti-il, busa, nagalingcod acó sa do-ol sa calayo. Mabugnao ba ang mga camút sa imong igso-on? Dili, apan mabugnao ang iyang ti-il. Onsay guibati sa imong ig-agao? Masaquít ang iyang pa-a. Onsay saquít ni-ining babaye? Masaquít ang dila nía. XIII. Usá sa mga ayuda sa Cámara ni Luis XIV naghangyo ni-ining Principe sa paghigdá nia, nga itugyan nia untá sa dacó sa mga ministro ug usá ca capolonganan (lawsuit) nia contra sa iyang ugangan, ug nagingón sa paghangyo cania: "Señor, mao rá ang imo ang pagpamolong ug usá ca polong". Ma-ayo, matod ni Luis XIV, dili man caná ang cabilinggan (which embarrasses me): apan sayri acó: (tell me) cun dihá ca untá sa cabutangan sa imong ugangan ¿mahimu-ut ca untá, nga ipamolong co canang polong? Cun muanhi unta ang mga tao, quinahanglan untá ang paghatag canila bisan onsa, nga imnón nila. Gun macahimo untá sia ni-ini, bu-ut sia untá magbuhat niadto. Nagapadayeg acó guihapon, igso-on co nga hinigugma, cay nahagugma ca canaco ingón sa paghigugma co canimo; apan, caron nailá co, nga nasayóp acó. Nasayod acó, igso-on nga hinigugma, nga nanuyó ca canaco, cay nagsoroy-soroy acó sa ualay tingug co canimo, apan nagamatood acó canimo, nga cun masayod acó untá nga dili ca masaquít, anha-an ta icao untá; apan nangutana acó sa balay sa imong mananambal ug ma-ayo ca ba ug laoas, ug nagingón sia canaco, nga ualo na ca-adlao ang imong paghigdá. XIV. ¿Duna ba untá imong salapi, cun dinhi untá ang imong amahan? Duna untay acong salapi, cun dinhi sia untá. Sa pagabut se usá ca Oficial nga Frances didto sa corte sa Viena, guipangutana sia sa Emperatriz nga si Teresa, cun mito-o pa ba sia nga ang Princesa N. nga naquita nia cahapon, mao gayud ang babaye nga labing ma-anindut sa calibutan ingón sa guibantug. "Señora: mintubág ang Oficial, minto-o acó niana cahapon". ¿Naonsa ba ang imong oyo-an? Sayran ta icao, cun naonsa ba sia: ania man dinhi ang siya nga guilingcoran nia sa masubsub. ¿Namatáy ba sia? Namatáy man. ¿Canus-a ba sia namatáy? Dugay na, totoló ca semana. Masaquít ug dacó ang acong casingcasing. ¿Ngano nga dili ca mulingcod? Cun bu-ut ca mulingcod sa acong luyó, mulingcod acó upod; apan cun pauli ca, pauli usáb acó. ¿Bu-ut ca ba magingón canaco, cun naonsa ang igso-on mo? Bu-ut magingón canimo cun naonsa sia. ¿Namatáy ba sia? Ualá sia mamatáy. ¿Naonsa ba sia? Na-adto man sia didto sa Manila. ¿Naonsa ba ang imong mga igso-on? Dili macasuguilon canimo, cun naonsa ba sila, cay dugay na, unúm ca tuig nga ualá silá maquita. XV. ¿Nganong guiablihán mo ang pultá: dili ba maquita mo nga ma-asó dinhi? Naquita co, apan quinahanglan ang pagabli sa ventana, dili nga (labón) ablihán unta ang pultahán. Ang ventana dili ma-abli ug ma-ayo, busa guiablihán co ang ventana. Anus-a ba sirhán mo? Sirhán co igo nga ualáy asó untá. ¿May pulus ba (ang) sa pagsulti ca-ayo? Cun bu-ut quita magto-on ug usá ca pinolongan nga dili caogalingon, may pulus sa pagsulti ca-ayo. ¿Magsama ba ang pulus sa pagsulát ug sa pagsulti? May pulus pa sa pagsulti dili sa pagsulát, apan sa pagto-on ug usa ca pinolongan, quinahanglan ang pagsulát ug ang pagsulti. ¿May pulus ba sa pagsulát sa ngatanán nga guipamolong? Ualáy pulus. ¿Di-in nacuha mo quining libro? Nacuha co didto sa cuarto sa imong amigos. ¿Ma-ayo ba ang pagcuha sa mga libro nga dili caogalingon? Dili ma-ayo, nasayod acó, apan quinahanglan co caná, ug nagasalig acó nga dili manuyó ang imong higala, cay iuli cania igo co basaha. XVI. Quining tao nalain ca-ayo. ¿Hain ba icao natao? Dili acó bu-ut inutug-an canimo. Cun dili icao muatubang cania, dili acó magsulti cania. ¿Onsa-onsaon ba ang pagpamolong ni-ini? Cana dili aráng ipamolong sa binisayá. Quinahanglan ang pag-anad sa mga batang diutay cutub sa pagcabata, sa pagbuhat. Anad man acó sa pagsulát. Dili acó macasangput sa binisayá, cay ualá acoy batasan sa pagsulti. Ang tao usahay mucataoa, usahay muhilac. Cun mahibaló acó untá sa guibuhat mo.... ¿Guitugutan mo ba acó sa pag-adto sa baybayon? Dili ta icao pa-adto-on didto. Dalion mo caná pagbuhat. ¿Ngano nahigaoad si Fernando sa iyang asaoa? Si Tomás nagamahay can Fructuosa ug si Fructuosa can Tomás. ¿Quinsa ba ang may catarungan? Silang duhá ualáy catarungan, cay si Tomás bu-ut mucuha sa mga dula-an ni Fructuosa ug si Fructuosa, bu-ut mucha sa mga dula-an ni Tomás. XVII. ¿Asa ba cutub muadto quitá? Muadto quitá cutub sa Singbahán. ¿Muadto ca ba cutub sa subá? Dili; muadto acó cutub sa Daois. ¿Duna bay imong guicaoat usahay? Ualá acóy sugod mangaoat. ¿Duna bay imong guitina? Guitina co ang acong calo. ¿Onsay guitina mo? Maitóm ang guitina co sa calo co. ¿Guipatina mo ba ang imong calo? Verde ang guipatina co sa acong calo. ¿Onsa nga calo ang tua sa bata? Duruhá man ang iyang calo, ang usá maputi ug ang usa maitóm. ¿Asa cutub quining dalan? Didto cutub sa Baclayon ¿Hain ba nagapuyó ang imong higala? Nagapuyó sia dinhi dapit sa dalan. ¿Tua ba ang tanaman sa mga bulac sa imong igso-on nga babae dinhi dapit cun didto ba dapit sa cacahuyan? Tua didto dapit. ¿Masucó ca ba untá, cun muabút untá caron nga adlaoa ang imong inahan? Malipay acó untá hino-o, (rather). ¿Nanuyó ca ba canaco? Dili: nanuyó acó can Valeriana, nga naca-adto sa sayao sa ualáy tingug canaco. XVIII. ¿Ma-ayo ba ang pagyubit maingón niana (thus) sa mga taong tanán? Guiyubit co ang imong mga visti, dili acó magayubit sa inga taong tanán. ¿Quinsay maingnan ug dagoay sa anác mo? Ualáy maingnan nia ug dagoay. ¿Dili ca ba macapahalayó nianang taoha? Dili acó macapahalayó cania, tungud cay bu-ut sia mag-apas canaco sa lugus (sa linugsa-nay). ¿Ualá ba sia mabu-ang? Tingali cahá. (It may be). ¿Onsay tuyo nia? Ambut. ¿Quinsay tag-iya nianang pusil? Ang acong oyoan maoy tag-iya. ¿Quinsa ba cadtong mga tao? Ang nagavisti ug maputi mao ang acong silingan, ug ang nagavisti ug maitóm, mao ang anác sa mananambal nga nacatampaling sa acong silingan. Daghan man ang mga maquina-admanon didto sa Roma, ¿dili ba mato-od?--nagotana si Milton sa usá ca tao nga taga Roma. Dili man daghan inaingón sa didto ca pa--mitubág ang taga Roma. XIX. ¿Ngano nga napado-ol ca nianang mga tao? Napado-ol acó canila, cay may pulus acó canila. Cun mudayon ca pa sa pagdo-ol canila, mangita ca sa mga casamucan, cay daghanan ang ilang mga ca-aoay. ¿Nasayod ca cun hain ba ang ma-ayong cala-ngoyan? Nasayod acó, cun hain dunay usa. ¿Hain ba? Didto dapit sa tabóc sa suba sa licód sa cacahuyan do-ol sa dalan. ¿Anus-a ba quita mulangoy? Carón hapon cun bu-ut ca. ¿Bu-ut ca ba muhulát canaco didto sa tungud sa pultahán sa longsod? Pa-abuton ta icao didto apan nagahangyó acó canimo nga dili ca malimot. Nasayod ca na man nga dili acó malimot (mahacalimot) sa acong mga sa-ad. ¿Nanuyó ba canimo quining tao? Sa bu-ut co, (I think) nanuyó sia canaco, cay dili acó magaduao cania, apan dili acó mahagugma umadto didto sa ilá, cay sa pagadto co, labon nga daoaton acó nia sa ma-ayong dagoay, ingón ug dautan sia ug dagoay (he looks displeased). ¿Ngano nga mamingao ca ug dagoay? Dacó nga mga calisud ang guibati co. Dili ca masucó ca-ayo, cay ¿oonsaon ta man? Apan, Dios co! ¿ngano naninggit ca maingón niana? XX. ¿Pilay vale ni-ining panapton? Guibaligyá co caná sa tagotló ca cahate ang vara. Sa bu-ut co (it seems me) mahal ca-ayo. ¿Bu-ut mo ba ipaquita canaco pipilá ca bulus ni-ining usá ca panapton? Bu-ut acó magpaquita canimo niana. ¿Angay ba canimo quining mapola? Dili angay canaco. ¿Ngano nga dili angay canimo? Cay mahal ca-ayo. ¿Nagato-on ca ba ug binisayá? Oo, nagato-on acó ug binisayá. ¿Quinsa ba ang imong magtoto-on? Ang acong magtoto-on maoy usa ca Pare nga Recoleto ¿Magatodló ba sia usáb ug Ininglés? Oo, nagatodlo sia ug Ininglés sa mga Filipino, ug quinachilá sa iyang mga amigos sa América Bu-ut acó macailá cania, busa, nagahangyó acó canimo nga ihatud mo acó didto sa ila Bu-ut acó untá masayod ¿ngano cay dili acó mahibaló magsulti ug ma-ayo ingón canimo? Ingnon ta; icao magsulti ug ma-ayo ingón canaco, cun dili ca untá mahadlucon; apan, cun nagto-on ca untá ug ma-ayo sa imong mga lección, dili ca untá mahadluc magsulti, tungud cay sa pagpamolong ug ma-ayo, quinahanglan ang pagcasayod, ug quinaiya man sa tao nga dili mahibaló ug ma-ayo sa guito-on nia, nga mahadlucon sia untá; cun nasayod ca pa untá nga dili ca masayóp, dili ca untá mahadlucon. XXI. ¿Onsa nga saquít ang guicamatyán sa imong igso-on? Ang hilanat maoy guicamatyán nia. ¿Comusta ang imong igso-son? Ang acong igso-on ualá nay quinabuhi, dugay na usá ca semana nga namatáy. Ma-ayo man sia ca-ayo ug laoas sa tuig nga miagui sa didto pa acó sa Tagbilaran ¿Onsay iyang guicamatyán? Ang buti (small pox) maoy namatyán nia. ¿Comusta ang inahán sa imong amigos? Dili man ma-ayo, guihilantan sia cahapon sa usá ca adlao (niadtong usá ca adlao) ug caniha sa buntag guibalicán sia sa hilanat (the fever has returned). Guisaolo ba (learn by heart) sa imong mga tinon-an ang mga tema? Onahon nila ang pag-guisi, dili ang pagsaolo (They will rather tear them than learn by heart). ¿Ngano nga nagahilác ang inahán sa atong sologo-on? Minhilac sia, tungud cay ang Pare nga atong amigos, nga nagalimós cania, namatáy dugay na upát ca adlao. ¿Onsay guicamatyán nia? Ang pagcatigulang (quinatigulang) maoy guicamatyán nia. ¿Mutabang ca ba canaco sa pagbuhat, cun muadto quitá sa Panglao? Tabangan ta icao sa pagbuhat, cun mutabang ca canaco pa pagpangita sa quinabuhi. ¿Onsa ba quining mga ocbán sa paghunahua sa imong igso-on? Ma-ayo man ca-ayo sa iyang pagsabút (she likes them very well) apan matolotam-is (matam-istam-is, matod nia. ¿Bu-ut ca ba maniodto dinhi? Bu-ut acó maniodto dinhi, cun guiandam mo ug ma-ayong can-on. XXII. ¿Nacailá ca ba sa mga cabayo? Nacailá man acó. ¿Bu-ut mo ba acó palitán ug usa? Cun bu-ut ca muhatag canaco ug salapi, palitán ta icao ug duruhá. ¿Nacailá ba canáng tao sa mga panapton? Dili sia macailá ca-ayo. ¿Onsa-onsaon mo ba pagpatigayon? Bu-ut acó magpaquita canimo cun onsa-onsaon co pagpatigayon. Onsa may bubuhaton co cay aron mahimbaloan co ang lección, nga ipangutana nia ugmá canaco? Ibutáng mo sa limpio ang imong mga tema, buhaton mo ug totoló, ug magestudio ca sa lección nga sumunúd (next lesson). ¿Onsa-onsaon ba sa imong igso-on ang pagtoon ug binisayá sa ualáy diccionario? Naga ayom-ayom sia lamang (he manages it) sa dacong cacugui. ¿Naquita mo na ba ang acong anác? Ualá co pa sia maquita. ¿Comusta ba sia? Ma-ayo sia ca-ayo, dili ca macailá cania, cay mintobó sia ca-ayo (he has grown very tall) sa didiót nga tiempo (in a short time) ¿Onsa ba carón ang tiempo? Mainit man ca-ayo. ¿Dugay na ba nga ualá mag-olán? Dili: ug sa bu-ut co (I believe) may onús quitá carón adlaoa. Tingali cahá. Mahangin na, nagadalogdog; ¿nadungúg mo ba? Oo, nadungúg co apan halayó pa ca-ayo ang onús. Dili man halayó ingón sa imong paghunahuna. ¿Naquita mo ba nga nagaquilat ¡Dios co! ¡Pagcabascug sa olán! Cun musulúd quitá sa bisan di-in, magasalipód quitá sa onús. XXIII. Sa didto acó sa longsod sa usá ca adlao, nadaoat co ug usá ca sulát sa imong magtoto-on, nga igamahay ca-ayo nia canimo. Ayao paghilác adto ca caron sa imong cuarto, magto-on ca sa imong lección, ug magma-ayo ca; cun dili, dili ca maniodto caron nga adlaoa. Magama-ayo acó gayúd, amahán co nga hinigugma, nga muangay ca nga to-od canaco. ¿Onsa may atong buhaton cay aron mapaladan quitá? Higugmaon ug bubuhaton niñó ang ma-ayong buhat, ug mapaladan camó dinhi sa yuta ug sa lain nga quinabuhi. Cay bu-ut quitá mapaladan, bubuhatan ta sa ma-ayo ang mga pobres ug caloyan ta ang mga tao nga nalisdan. Sugtón ta ang atong mga magtoto-on, ug dili quitá magpacasaquit canila sa guihapon. ¿Onsa ba ang batasan sa acong anác canimo? Ma-ayo man ang batasan nia canaco, cay ma-ayo ang iyang batasan sa mga taong tanán, Ang iyang amahán nag-ngón cania sa masubsub: ang batasan sa ubán dili man cun dili usa ca aningal sa atong batasan; cun ma-ayo ang atong batasan canila, dili atong pa-abuton ang batasan nila nga maayo canato. XXIV. ¿Comusta ca? Ma-ayo man sa pagsilvi canimo cun dunay imong sugo. ¿Ug comusta didto sa iñó ang imong guinicanan ug ang imong mga igso-on? Ma-ayo man silá sa dacóng calo-oy sa Dios. Sa tungud canimo, ualáy quinahanglan sa pagpangutana, cay ma-ayo ca man ca-ayo ug ang imong dagoay mao ang labing ma-ayo sa ngatanan. ?Bu-ut ca ba maglingcod? Aniay usá ca siya. Dili acó bu-ut maglingao-lingao canimo sa imong mga buhat, nasayod acó nga mahal ca-ayo ang tiempo sa mga comerciante. Carón ualá acóy buhat; sa pag-agui co dinhi, bu-ut lamang acó mangutana ug ma-ayo ca ba ug laoas. Dios magbayad. ¿Onsa ba nga oras? La una y media. La una y media, matod mo, ug dinhi sa acong orasán, las doce y media man. Tabi canimo, ualá pa magbagting sa á la una. Nagamato-od acó canimo nga la una y media na, cay ang acong orasán nagalacao sa ma-ayo (cay ma-ayo ang paglacao sa acong orasán). ¿Quinsa ba ang naca-abut? Naca-abut ang acong ig-agao, conó. ¿Di-in ba sia guican? Guican sia sa Manila. ¿Nadugay ba sia ca-ayo didto sa dagat? Nadugay sia napoló ug limá ca adlao, cay daután ca-ayo ang tiempo. ¿Guipalít mo ba quining calo didto sa Manila? Ualá co palita, guiregalo canaco sa acong ig-agao nga bag-o pa miabut. XXV. ¿Ngano nga nasamocan ang imong inahán? Nasamocan sia tungud cay ualá sia dumaoat ug sulát sa iyang anác nga tua didto sa España. Dili sia untá masamocan tungud cania, cay bisan mangita sia guihapon sa mga casamocan mahibaló man sia maggaoás niana. Sa tuig nga miagui, sa pag-adto namo sa pagpamusil, guicagabhian camé halayó ca-ayo sa amo. ¿Hain ba camó nabuntagán? Sa sinugdan nasamocan acó ca-ayo, apan ang imong igso-on, ualá sia hino-o: nagapahinay canaco (sa acong casamuc) busa, nauad-an acó sa casamocan. Sa catapusan, hinquit-an namo usa ca payág ug didto camé nabuntagán. Didto naqnita co ang cacugui sa imong igso-on. Pipila ca caoayan ug usá ca bugcus nga sagbut guipacahigdaan nia sa ma-ayong higda-an. Usá ca boteya guipacacandelero nia, ug sa duruhá cun totoló ba ca langgam guibuhat nia ug usá ca panihapon nga ualáy ingón. Sa paghimatá namo sa buntág, ingón ug napaholay ug ma-ayo camé maingón sa pagcatolog namo untá sa labing ma-ayong higda-an sa calibutan. XXVI. ¿Ngano nga nanuyó (nasucó) ca can Juan? Cay nacaquita man sia guihapon ug mga sayóp sa ngatanán nga naquita nia. ¿Onsay casayoran niana? Ang casayoran niana mao nga dili acó bu-ut magsulti canimo, cay bacacon ca man. ¿Bu-ut ca ba masayod ngano nga ualá sulata sa imong igso-on ang iyang mga tema? Cay maculi man ca-ayo. Nagtucao sia sa tibo-oc nga gabi-i, ug ualá sia macasulát niana, cay canáng tema dili mahimo nia Igo naquita acó ni Pedro, nagsugud sia sa pagsulti ug binisayá sa pag-sumaysumay, ug daghanan ang iyang pagabi-abi canaco: busa usaháy dili acó mahibaló, cun onsa ba ang itubág co. Mao ra ang buhat sa iyang mga igso-on; bisan pa niana, ma-ayo man silá ca-ayo nga tao; dili lang cay sapian ug mahigugmaon silá cun dili nga malolot ug magbubuhat sila usáb sa ma-ayo. Nahagugma silá canaco sa minato-od gayud, busa man, nga guihigugma co silá usáb ug dili acó muingón guihapon nga macadaut acó canila. Dacó pa ngani untá ang paghigugma co canila, cun dili untá maga-abiabi silá ca-ayo; apan, tagsá ca tao dunay iyang mga sayóp, ug ang aco mao ang pag-hisgut sa ilang pag-abiabi. XXVII. Natahap na man acó, nga gui-uhao ca ug nga guigutum ang iniong igso-on, busa man ngani, guidalá ta camó dinhi. Bisan pa niana, masaquit ang acong bu-ut, cay dili acó muquita sa imong inahán. ¿Ngano nga dili ca muinom ug capé? Cun dili pa acó catolgon, muinom unta acó. Ubus ca na catolgon, ubus ca na matugnao; ubus ca na gutmon, ubus ca na uhao-on. Usá ca tao, sa pagquita nia nga nagasalamin ang mga tigulang sa pagbasa, naca-adto sia sa balay sa usá ca comerciante; ug nangayo man sia ug inga antiparas. Nacuha niadtong tao ug usá ca libro, ug sa human na nia ablihi, mi-ingon sia nga dili man ma-ayo ang antiparas. Guitaga-an sia sa comerciante sa uban nga labing ma-ayo nga naquita nia sa iyang tindahan, apan, cay ualá sia usáb macabasa, nangutana cania ang comerciante "higala co, ¿nahibalo ca ba magbasa?" Cun mahibalo acó unta magbasa, matod nia, dili co unta quinahangla-non ang imong antiparas. XXVIII. Sa pagpamusil niadto sa Emperador uga si Carlos V naualá sia didto sa cacahuyan, ug sa pag-abut nia sa usá ca balay, minsulud sia didto cay aron magpahuay. Didto niadtong balaya duna may upát ca tao nga nagapacatológ. Ang usa nagbacod, ug sa pagdo-ol nia sa Emperador nag-ingon cania nga nagdamgó sia nga caoaton nia unta ang iyang orasán, ug guicaoat nia. Dihádihá (then) nagbacod ang usá ug nag-ingón cania nga nagdamgó sia nga angay unta cania ang pagpangaoat cania sa iyang colopo, ug guicaoat nia. Ang icatoló nangaoat sa bolsa. Sa catapusan: nagbangon ang icapat ug nag-ingon cania: nagapa-abut acó nga dili ca manuyó cun susihon ta icao, ug sa pagsusi nia, iyang naquita sa li-og sa Emperador ug usá ca bulaoan nga cadena nga hinigtan sa usá ca pito nga bu-ut nia caoaton cania, apan ang Emperador nag-ingon cania: higala co nga ma-ayo, sa dili mo pa acó cuha-an ni-ining hias, ipaquita co canimo ang iyang gahúm, ug sa pagpamolong nia ni-ining mga polong, nagtaghoy sia. Ang iyang mga tao nga nangita cania, nanigom didto dapit sa baláy ug naningala silá sa pagquita nila sa Emperador dihá nianang pagcabutang. Apan, ang Emperador sa pagquita nga nacagaoás na sia sa calisud mi-ingon sia: ani-a quining mga tao nga nagdamgo sa ngatanán nga ilang bu-ut. Bu-ut acó usáb magdamgo; ug sa human na sia naghunahuna sa macadiót, mi-ingón sia: nagdamgo man acó, nga tacús bitayon silang tanán. Sa pagcahuman ni-ining mga polong. dihádihá guibitay sila sa atubangan sa balay. CATAPUSAN A TABLE OF THE PARTICLES AND THEIR PASSIVES. Particles. Present Past. Future. Imperative. Infinitive. Present and Future. Imp. and Passives. Past. Infinitive. Naga. Naga Nag Maga Mag Mag Gui Paga Pag i, on, an Iga or ica. -- -- -- -- -- -- Iga, Ica -- -- Nagapa. Nagapa Nagpa Magapa Magpa Magpa Guipa Ipa, Pa Pagpa i, on, an Nagapaca. Nagapaca Nagpaca Magapaca Magpaca Magpaca Guipaca Pagpaca, Pagpaca, --, on, an Paca Paca Nagaca. Nagaca Nagca Magaca Magca Magca Guica Pagaca Pagca --, on, an Nagahi. Nagahi Naghi Magahi Maghi Maghi Guihi Pagahi Hi, paghi --, on, an Naca. Naca Naca Maca Maca Pagca Na Ma Ma --, --, an Naca. Naca Naca Maca Maca Pagca Guica Ca Ca, pagca --, --, an Mi. Mi Min Mu Um -- -- -- -- --, --, -- Na. Na Na Ma Ma Ma Na Ma Ma --, --, an Nanag. Nanag Nanag Manag Manag Manag Guipanag Panag Panag i, on, an Nan. Nan Nan Man Man Man Guipa Pa Pa i, on, an Naqui. Naqui Naqui Maqui Maqui Pagpaqui Guipaqui Ipaqui Ipagpaqui i, --, an Naquig. Naquig Naquig Maquig Maquig Pagpaquig Guipaquig Paquig Ipaquig --, --, -- Naha, Nahi. Naha, i Naha, i Maha, i Maha, i Paha, Hin Hi Paha --, --, -- pagpaha Napa. Napa Napa Mapa Pa Pa -- -- -- --, on, an Nasig. Nasig Nasig Masig Masig Pasig -- -- -- --, --, -- Nasighi. Nasighi Nasighi Masighi Masighi Pasighi -- -- -- --, --, -- Nangi. Nangi Nangi Mangi Mangi Mangi Guipangi Guipangi Pangi i, --, -- Nanhi. Nanhi Nanhi Manhi Manhi Panhi Guipanhi Guipanhi Panhi --, --, an Nanig. Nanig Nanig Manig Manig Pagpanig Guipanig Guipanig Pagpanig --, --, an Nanum. Nanum Nanum Manum Manum -- -- -- -- --, --, -- Nani. Nani Nani Mani Mani Pagpani Guipani Guipani Pani, --, on, an pagpani TABLE CONTAINING A SMALL DICTIONARY OF THE WORDS IN GENERAL USE FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE LEARNERS. Substantive Nouns Ang Dios. God. Ang Dios nga Amahan. God the Father. Ang Dios nga Anac. God the Son. Ang Dios nga Espíritu Santo. God the Holy Ghost. Ang Santos uyamut nga Trinidad. The holy Trinity. Ang atong Guino-ong Jesucristo. Our Lord Jesus Christ Ang Manunubus. The Redeemer. Ang Mamamaui. The Saviour. Ang Magbubuhat. The Creator. Ang Macagagahúm sa ngatanan. The Almighty. Ang mahal nga Virgen. The blessed Virgin. Usá ca binuhat sa Dios. A creature. Quing tibo-oc nga calibutan. The nature. Ang calág. The soul. Ang laoas. The body. Ang langit. The heaven. Ang himaya sa langit. The glory. Ang Angel. The Angel. Ang Santos. The Saint. Ang Matarung. The Just. Ang Bulahan. The Blessed. Ang Martir. The Martyr. Ang Manalagna. The Prophet. Ang Apostol. The Apostle Ang Pangolo sa banay. The Patriarch. Ang Inpierno. The Hell. Ang Yaoa. The Devil, Satan, Demon. Ang hinocman sa inpierno. The damned. Ang Pinilian. The Wicked. Ang Purgatorio. The Purgatory. Ang mga calág. The Souls in purgatory. Ang Abat. The Phantom. About the Elements Ang calayo. The fire. Ang hangin. The air, wind. Ang yuta. The earth. Ang tubig. The water. Ang Dagat. The Sea. Ang tubig nga ma-asgad. The brackish water. Astrological Nouns Ang adlao. The sun. Ang bulan. The moon. Ang bito-on. The star. Ang panganod. The small cloud moving before the wind. Ang planeta. The planet. Ang bito-on nga icogan. The comet. Ang mga sidlac sa adlao. The rays of the sun. Ang cahayag. The brightness. Ang cadolom. The darkness. Ang cangitngit. The utter darkness. Ang calamdag. The clarity. Ang cabugnao. The cold. Ang cainit. The heat, warm. Ang dag-om. The cloud. Ang olan. The rainfall, shower. Ang tolo sa olan nga mibactot. The hail, hail-stone. Ang alingasa. Sultry weather. Ang yamúg. The dew. Ang yamúg nga mibactot tungud sa The hoar frost. tugnao Ang talisic nga mibactot tungud sa The snow. tugnao. Ang gabon. The fog, mist. Ang onós. The storm. Ang bagio. The whirlwind typhoon. Ang dalogdog. The thunderclap. Ang quilat. The flash. Ang linti. The thunderbolt. Ang linog. The earthquake. Ang usá ca paglonop. An overflow of waters. Paglonop sa calibutan The deluge. Ang balangao. The rainbow. The Time Ang higayonan. The opportunity. Usá ca adlao. A day. Ang linacuan sa usá ca adlao. Journey. Ang banagbanag. The dawn. Ang sidlac sa adlao. The sunrise. Ang buntag. The morning. Ang odto. The noon. Ang hapon. The afternoon. Ang gabi-i. The evening, night. Ang tungang gabi-i. Midnight. Ang salup sa adlao. The sunset. Adlao nga igasingba. Mass-day. Adlao nga piesta. Holiday. Adlao nga igabuhat. Work-day. Adlao nga igapoasa. Fast-day. Usá ca minuto. A minute. Usá ca oras. An hour. Usá ca semana. A week. Usá ca pagpilóc, A moment. Ang piesta sa mga Santos ngatanan. Feast of All Saints. Ang pasco sa pagcatao. Christmas. The Family Ang tao. The man, person. Ang lalaqui. The man. Ang babaye. The woman. Ang amahán. The father. Ang inahán. The mother. Ang anac nga lalaqui. The son. Ang anac nga babaye. The daughter. Ang igso-on nga lalaqui. The brother. Ang igso-on nga babaye. The sister. Ang apohan nga lalaqui. The grand father. Ang apohan nga babaye. The grand mother. Ang icaduha nga apo. The great-grand father. Ang icaduha nga apong babaye. The great-grand mother. Ang apong lalaqui. The grandson. Ang apong babaye. The granddaughter. Ang icaduha nga apo. The great-grandson. Ang icaduha nga apong babaye. The great-granddaughter. Ang ama-ama. The stepfather. Ang ina-ina. The stepmother. Ang oyo-an. The uncle. Ang aya-an. The aunt. Ang pag-umangcon. The nephew. Ang pag-umangcon nga babaye. The niece. Ang ig-agao nga lalaqui. The cousin (male.) Ang ig-agao nga babaye. The cousin (female.) Ang balo. The widow. Ang pagcabalo. The widowhood. Ang abian. The friend. Ang ig-agao itagsa. First cousin. Ang bayao. The brother-in-law. Ang ugangan. The father-in-law. Ang umagad, masamong. The son-in-law. Ang binalaye. The daughter-in-law. Ang inanac sa buñag. The godson. Ang inahán sa buñag. The godmother. Ang amahán sa buñag. The godfather. Ang mga caubanan. The relations. Ang bana. The husband. Ang asaoa. The wife. Usá ca batang lalaqui. A child (male). Usá ca batang babaye. A girl. Usá ca olitao. A bachelor, unmarried man. Usá ca dalaga. A unmarried woman, maid. Ang pagcabata. The childhood. Ang pagcatigulang. The old age. Ang pagcahimtang sa tao. The manhood. Ang ilong tolapus. The orphan, helpless. The Body Ang laoas. The body. Ang mga tolan. The limbs. Ang lutahan. The juncture of bones. Ang mga luhaluha. The knuckles. Ang olo. The head. Ang otoc. The brain. Ang tingcoy. The cerebelum. Ang toboan. The crown, or top of the head. Ang tangcogo. The nape of the neck. Ang li-og. The neck. Ang bohoc. The hair. Ang dungandungan. The temple (of the head.) Ang agtang. The forehead. Ang quilay. The eyebrow. Ang dalonggan. The ear. Ang matá. The eye. Ang calimutao. The apple of the eye. Ang tabontabon. The eye-lid. Ang pilocpiloc. The eye-lash. Ang ilong. The nose. Ang bohoc sa ilong. The nostril. Ang ilong pislat. The flat-nose. Ang ilong matalinis. The sharp nose. Ang naong. The face. Ang panaoay. The features. Ang aping. The cheek. Ang baba. The mouth. Ang ngabil. The lip. Ang lag-os. The gum (of the teeth.) Ang dila. The tongue. Ang langagngag. The palate, taste. Ang totonlan. The throat. Ang ngipon. The tooth. Ang tango. The eye-tooth. Ang bag-ang. The mill tooth. Ang apapangig. The jaw-bone. Ang soláng. The chin. Ang bungut. The beard. Ang balahibo. The nap, wool. Ang abaga. The shoulder. Ang licod. The back. Ang talodtod. The spine, back-bone. Ang bocoboco. The scapula. Ang cotocoto. The pit of the stomach. Ang dughan. The breast. Ang soso. The teat, dug. Ang gosoc. The rib. Ang casingcasing. The heart. Ang atay. The liver. Ang baga. The lungs. Ang amimislon. The kidney. Ang agulela. The spleen. Ang tian. The belly. Ang quilid. The side. Ang posod. The navel. Ang bologan. The groin. Ang apdo. The gall, bile. Ang pantup. The bladder. Ang ihi. The urine. Ang dugó. The blood. Ang tae. The excrement, flux. Ang igot-igot. The rump, croup. Ang lubut. The anus (the orifice of the rectum.) Ang sampot. The backside. Ang mga ogat. The nerves, veins. Ang mga bocóg. The bones. Ang bocton. The arm. Ang iloc. The arm-pit. Ang sico. The elbow. Ang popolan. The wrist. Ang camót. The hand. Ang too. The right-hand. Ang uala. The left-hand. Ang todlo. The finger. Ang cubal. The corn (on the feet.) Ang ti-il. The foot. Ang biti-is. The calf of the leg. Ang singcol. The ankle. Ang ticod. The heel. Ang pa-a. The thigh. Ang lapalapa. The sole of the foot. Ang tuaytuay. The knee-pan. Ang tohod. The knee. Ang coco. The nail. Ang otoc. The marrow. Ang onod. The flesh, meat. Ang tamboc. The fat. Ang panit. The skin, hide. Ang bigote. The moustache. Ang luha. The tear. Ang sipon. The mucus. Ang loa. The spittle. Ang singot. The sweat. Ang muta. The lippitude. Ang pagsigma. The sneeze. Ang pagsid-oc. The hiccough. Ang paghagoc. The snoring. Ang paglabgao. The gaping. Ang cataoa. The laugh. Ang tingog. The voice. Ang polong. The word. Ang catahúm. The beauty. Ang cangil-ad. The ugliness. Ang ca-ayo sa laoas. The health. Ang catamboc. The robustness. Ang canioang. The weakness. Ang calugo. The wart. Ang conót. The wrinkle. Ang saquit sa olo. The headache. Ang saquit sa bag-ang. The toothache. Ang hilanat. The fever. Ang obo. The cough. Ang buti. The small-pox. Corporal Senses, Sensations and Qualities Ang pagquita. The sight. Ang igsilinghot. The smell. Ang igtitilao. The taste. Ang ihilicap. The touch. Ang igdolongog. The hearing. Ang paghilac. The weeping. Ang pag-agolo. The groaning. Ang pagcataoa. The laughing. Ang cahubac. The asthma. Ang nuca. The itch. Ang pono. The scab. Ang tibdas. The measles. Ang so-ol. The griping. Ang hibolos. The hemorrhage. Ang samad. The wound. Ang huadhon. The gangrene. The Soul Ang calág. The soul. Ang mga galamhan sa calág. The power of the soul. Ang panumduman. The memory. Ang salabutan. The understanding. Ang cabubut-on. The will. Ang ihibalo. The reason. Ang icasanasana. The imagination, fancy, idea. Ang ca-alam. The science. Ang quina-adman. The wisdom. Ang calimut. The forgetfullness. Ang sayóp. The mistake, fault. Ang gugma. The love. Ang casilag. The hatred. Ang pagto-o. The faith. Ang paglaom. The hope. Ang pagsalig. The confidence. Ang cahadluc. The fear; dread. Ang pagdaet. The peace. Ang calipay. The mirth, gaiety. Ang camingao. The sadness. Ang cayugot. The grief, anguish. Ang duhaduha. The doubt. Ang catahap. The suspicion. Ang butangbutang. The slander. Ang hunahuna. The thought. Ang casina. The envy. Ang caligutgut. The anger, wrath, fury. Ang calo-oy. The mercy, clemency. Ang calo-od. The reluctance. Clothing and Shoes Ang calo. The hat. Ang sinina. The shirt. Ang calsones. The trousers. Ang sapin. The shoes. Ang corbata. The necktie. Ang sinelas. The slippers. Ang nauas. The petticoat. Ang paño. The handkerchief. Ang pinangco. The chignon. Ang sudlay. The side comb. Ang aretes. The ear-ring. Ang singsing. The finger-ring. Ang bucala. The bracelet. Ang solod. The comb with large tooth. Ang medias. The stockings. Ang calcetines. The socks. Sewing Materials Ang dagom. The needle. Ang dedal. The thimble. Ang sudlan sa dagom. The needle-case. Ang gunting. The scissors. Ang hilo. The thread. Usá ca lugás. A needlefull of. Ang tagacan. The work-basquet. Ang igagama. The silk. Foods and Drinks Usá ca pan. A loaf of bread. Usá ca ad-ad. A slice of bread Ang asucal. The sugar. Ang asin. The salt. Ang sicolate. The chocolate. Ang mga utan. Vegetables. Ang patatas. The potatoes. Ang camates. The tomatoes. Ang manteca. The lard. Ang sabao. The broth. Ang gatas. The milk. Ang tubig. The water. Ang vino. The wine. Ang serbesa. The beer. Ang queso. The cheese. Ang itlog. The egg. Ang seboyas. The onions. Ang bugás. The rice. Ang panacot. The pepper. Usá ca tipac. A piece. Ang hamon. The ham. Ang pastel. The cake. Ang ginebra. The gin. Dignities Ang Emperador. The Emperor. Ang Hari. The King. Ang Guino-o. The Lord. Ang agalon. The Master, owner. Ang ilis sa hari. The Vice-roy. Sinugo sa hari. Ambassador. Amba. Governor. Marques. Marquis. Administrador. Administrator. Conde. Count, Earl. Duque. Duke. Ministro. Minister of state. Tribunal nga labao. Court of justice. Ang Oidor. Auditor. Ang Alcalde. Mayor. Religion Singbahan. Church. Capiya. Chapel. Altar. Altar. Sacristía. Sacristy. Buñagan. Baptistery. Altar mayor. High-altar. Compisal. Confessionary. Ualihan. Pulpit. Lubnganan. Cemetery. Lungon. Coffin. Ang Sacerdote. The Priest. Ang acólitos. The assistant, clerk. Ang calis. The chalice. Ang vinaheras. The cruets. Ang manteles. Altar-cloth. Corporal. Corporal, altarlinen on which the communion bread and wine are put to be consecrated. Ang insensario. The thurible. Ang pagbuñag. Baptism. Ang pagcompilma. Confirmation. Ang pagcompisal. Penance. Ang pagcalaoat. Holy Eucharisty. Ang paghilog. Extreme-unction. Ang pagorden. Holy Orders. Ang pagcasal. Matrimony. Ecclesiastical Dignities Ang Santos nga Papa. The holy Pope. Ang caparian. The clergy, Priesthood. Ang Ponoan. The Prelate. Ang Cardenal. The Cardinal. Ang Arzobispo. The Archbishop. Ang Obispo. The Bishop. Ang Párroco. The Parish priest. Ang Cristan. The Parish clerk. Ang órgano. The organ. Ang organista. The organist. Ang campanas. The bells. Ang campanario. The belfry. Ang campanero. The bell-ringing. Set of Tools Ang bacbac. The hammer. Ang palo. The small hammer. Ang quimpit. Smith's tongs. Ang limbas. The file. Ang gabas. The saw. Ang uasay. The axe. Ang lucub. The auger. Ang langsang. The nail. Ang langsang nga quinauitan. The tenterhook. Ang compas. Pair of compasses. Ang regla. The ruler. Ang tigib. The chisel. Ang landasan. The anvil. Ang bingcong. The adze. The City Usá ca longsod. A town. Ang balay. The house. Ang dalan. The street. Ang saoang. The square. Ang catedral. The cathedral. Ang laoigan The harbour. Ang mga goa sa longsod. The suburbs. Ang tianggi. The market. Ang palacio. The palace. Ang bilanggoan. The prison. Ang catindahan. The stores. Ang mga parol. The lamp post. Ang correo. The post-office. Ang escuelahan. The school. Usá ca barrio. A ward. Ang cabecera. The capital. Ang concejal. The alderman. Ang abogado. The lawyer. Ang ayutamiento. The city hall. Ang policia. The police. Usá ca policia. A policeman. Ang aduana. The custom-house. Ang tulay. The bridge. The House Ang balay. The house. Ang hagdan. The stair-case. Ang ang-ang. The stairs, steps. Ang sulud. The room. Ang salas. The parlor. Sulud nga higda-an. Bed-room. Ang salug. The floor. Ang ventana. The window. Ang pulta. The door. Ang yauihanan. The lock. Ang yaue. The key. Ang calibangan. The water-closet. Ang atabay. The well. Ang cosina. The kitchen. Ang caligoan. The bath-room. The Furniture Ang lamesa. The table. Ang higda-an. The bed. Ang banig. The mat. Ang onlan. The pillow. Ang habol. The sheet. Ang lingcoranan. The chair, seat. Ang mesedora. The rocking chair. Ang butaca. The arm-chair. Ang sopá. The sofa. Ang camapé. The lounge. Ang lamparahan. The lamp. Ang colon. The clays pot. Ang taclob. The lid, cover. Ang calaha. The frying-pan. Ang dapog. The hearth. Ang agipo. The firebrand. Ang agio. The embers. Ang baga. The red-hot, coal. Ang asó. The smoke. Ang sugá. The light. Ang hunaoan. The basin. Ang pamahiran. The towel. Ang sacapuegos. The match. Ang dila-ab. The flame. Quadrupeds Ang mananap. The animal. Ang cabayo. The horse. Ang iró. The dog. Ang ilagá. The rat, mouse. Ang iring. The cat. Ang toro. The ox, bull. Ang vaca. The cow. Ang nati sa vaca. The calf. Ang baboy. The pig. Baboy nga ihalas. Boar. Ang osa. The deer. Ang canding. The goat. Ang cornejo. The rabbit. Ang boot, basin. The squirrel. Ang calabao. The buffalo. Ang nati sa carnero. The lamb. Ang panon. The flock. Ang songay. The horn. Ang balahibo. The wool, hair. Ang panit. The skin, side. Ang coco. The hoof, nail. Ang balucag. The mane. Ang ti-il. The foot. Ang luconlucon. The ham, upper part of the leg. Ang simud. The snout. Ang icog. The tail. Fowls and Birds Ang langgam. The bird. Ang sangquil. Bird of prey. Ang banóg. The kite, falcon. Ang manaol. The eagle. Ang oac. The crow, raven. Ang perico. The parrot. Ang manoc. The hen. Ang sonoy. The cock. Ang pisó. The chicken. Ang salapati. The pigeon. Ang cuyabog. The young pigeon. Ang tocmoc. The turtle-dove. Ang tulihao. The witwall. Ang itic. The duck. Ang pungog. The owl. Ang cabúg. A big bat. Cabiao. Bat Ang sayao-sayao. The swallow. Ang pavo. The turkey. Ang gorrion. The sparrow. Ang canario. The canary. Ang songo. The beak. Ang pacó. The wing. Ang quigol. The tail. Ang salag. The nest. Ang halua, tangcal. The cage. Ang tagoc. The bird-lime. Reptiles and Insects Ang buhaga. The cricket. Ang halas. The snake. Ang saoa. The boa-serpent. Ang tiquí. The lizard (indian). Ang talotó. The eft. Ang ibid. A kind of lizard. Ang baqui. The frog. Ang banayao. The scorpion. Ang olahipan. The centipede. Ang alibangbang. The butterfly. Quinhason. Any small shellfish. Ang tabangcay. The snail. Ang olud. The worm. Uati. Worm bred in the earth. Bitoc. Worm bred in the body. Ang laoalaoa. The cobweb-spider. Ang hormigas. The ants. Solong. A kind of ants. Ang gangis. The grass hopper. Ang dolon. The locust. Ang lugton. The locust brood. Ang banagan. The lobster. Ang pulga. The flea. Ang dughó. The bug-bed bug. Ang coto. The louse. Ang lusá. The nit. Ang langao. The fly. Ang namóc. The gnat. Ang limatoc. The leech. Ang lapinig. The wasp. Ang putiocan. The bee. Panon sa putiocan. Swarm of bees. Ang soyod. The sting. Ang odlan. The honeycomb. Ang dugús. The honey. Fish and Shell-fish Ang isda. The fish. Ang bongansiso. The whale. Ang lumbalumba. The tunny. Ang tangigi. The gilt. Ang anduhao. The mackerel. Ang balitobong. The salmon. Ang tamban. The sardine. Ang talabá. The oyster. Ang alimango. The craw-fish. Ang tatus. The crab. Ang pasayan. The shrimp. Ang tuay. The clams. Ang guinamús. The brine-fish. Ang bacalao. The cod-fish. Ang tipaca. The shell. Ang himbis. The scale. Ang bocóg. The fish-bone. Ang hasang. The tonsil. Flowers Ang bulac. The flower. Ang rosa. The rose. Ang puyus. The bud. Ang violeta. The violet. Ang clavel. The pink. Ang dahon. The leaf. Ang salingsing. The stem. Fruits and Vegetables Ang limon. The lemon. Ang ocban. The orange. Ang siriguelas. The plum. Ang tibod, milon. The melon. Ang atimon. The water-melon. Ang saging. The banana. Ang rábano. The radish. Ang ongcug. The cucumber. Ang apio. The celery. Ang libgos. The mushroom. Ang tamboali. The squash. Ang tabios, mongos. A kind of lentils. Ang cubasa. The pumpkin. Ang parras. The grapes. Ang palia. A bitter vegetable very stomachic. Ang manga. The manga-fruit. Ang coles. The cabbage. Ang higos. The figs. Land and Agriculture Ang banua, oma. The land, field. Ang hacienda. The farm. Ang buquid. The mountain. Ang capatagan. The plain. Ang bunayan. The meadow. Ang ualóg. The valley. Ang lanao. The swamp. Ang baquilid. The hill. Ang calapocan. The quagmire. Ang subá. The river. Ang sapá. The brook. Ang bató. The stone. Ang balás. The sand. Ang langob. The cave. Ang lapoc. The clay, mud. Ang lasang. The forest. Ang cahoy. The tree. Ang sangá. The branch. Ang bonga. The fruit. Ang dugá. The sap. Ang binhi. The seed. Ang tanóm. The plant. Ang tanaman. The garden. Ang daro. The plow. Ang galab. The sickle. Ang pala. The shovel. Ang sarol. The hoe. Ang ohay. The ear of corn. Ang dagami. The straw. Ang lugás. The grain. Ang inani. The harvest. Sea Ang dagat. The sea. Ang laod. The gulf. Ang sulangan. The strait. Ang looc. The creek. Ang daplin. The shore. Ang honas. The ebb-tide. Ang taob. The flood-tide. Ang balod. The swell of the sea. Ang onos. The storm. Ang bagio. The typhoon. Ang sacayan. The vessel. Baranggayan. A long-boat with oars. Bilos. A kind of canoa. Pangco. A kind of canoa. Salisipan. A kind of canoa. Baroto. Canoa. Ang dolong. The prow of a ship, bow. Oling. Poop, stern. Ang quilid. The side of a ship. Ang onayan. The keel of a ship. Ang layag. The sail. Ang bansalan, timon. The helm, rudder. Ang sinipit. The anchor. Ang gayon, gaod, bugsay. The oar. Virtues and Vices Catarungan. Virtue. Cadaot. Vice. Pagto-o. Faith. Paglaom. Hope. Paghigugma. Charity. Ca-ayo. Charity. Ca-ulay. Purity, chastity. Ca-ligdon. Modesty. Ca-ugdan. Gravity. Ca-ulao. Shame. Ca-lolot. Generosity. Ca-mato-od. Truth. Pagilob. Patience. Caputli. Honesty. Cabu-ang. Madness. Calalang. Artifice, craft. Casina. Envy. Limbong. Fraud, cheat. Ticas. Trick. Caulag. Lewdness. Cahacug. Covetousness. Pagsapao. Adultery. Bacac. Lie. Causic. Prodigality. Cataspoc. Laziness. Paghimu-ut. Pleasure. Catacá. Slowness. Pagcaualay pagtamud. Ingratitude, unthankfulness. Pagpalabilabi. Pride. Catalao. Cowardice. Ang ualay pagto-o. Incredulity. Ang pagbia sa paglaom. Despair, anger. Cahacug sa pagcaon. Gluttony. Cahubog. Intoxication. Pagtamay sa Dios. Impiety. Paghinangop sa Dios. Piety, mercy, pity. Pagpatay sa tao. Homicide, crime. Pagpatay sa caogalingon nga laoas. Suicide, crime. Pagpangaoat. Robbery. Cagobót. Revolution. Casaba. Tumult. Pagbudhi. Treachery. Paglibac. Backbiting. Usá ca bañaga. A rascal. Tampalasan. Malicious. Usá ca matistis. A mercy, gay man. Usá ca palautang. A deceitful man. Usá ca bacacon. A lier. Usá ca sugarol. A player. Usá ca daguinotan. Avaricious. Usá ca malolot. A open-handed. Usá ca andacon. A boaster. The Most Important Adjectives Ma-ayo. Good. Dautan. Bad. Talamayon. Contemptible. Maquina-admanon. Wise, learned. Ualay quina-adman. Ignorant, stupid. Dagcó. Big, great. Diutay. Small, little. Mabaga. Corpulent, bulky. Matamboc. Big, fat, thick. Supang. Bulky person. Manioang. Thin, lean. Manipis. Fine, thin, light. Masingpot. Very dense, thick applied to woven goods. Hata-as. Tall, lofty, high. Hamobó. Low, small. Halagpad. Wide. Masigpit. Narrow. Hago-ot. Tight. Matul-id. Right. Matarung. Just. Baliquig. Twisted. Balicó. Unjust. Bag-o. New. Da-an. Old, ancient. Magahi. Hart, solid. Mahumuc. Soft. Malomo. Gentle. Maga-an. Light. Pono. Full. Ualay solud. Empty. Gucab. Hollow. Maculi. Difficult. Masayon. Easy. Matam-is. Sweet. Mapait. Bitter. Maasgad. Saltish. Maaslom. Sour, sharp. Mahaoan. Clear, clean. Mahugao. Dirty. Mainit. Warm, hot. Mabugnao. Cold. Matugnao. Freshness, cold. Mamala. Dry. Mabasa. Wet. Maomal. Damp, humid. Malig-on. Strong (house). Maisug. Strong (man). Maluya. Weak. Matahúm. Beautiful. Maanindut. Pretty. Mangil-ad. Ugly. Butá. Blind. Butá sa picas. One-eyed. Libat. Squinting-squint. Pi-ang. Lame, handless. Buctot. Humpbacked. Opao. Bald. Mama. Dumb, mute. Gacod. Stutterer. Bungol. Deaf. Lulid. Crippled. Nuca. Itchy. Pon-on. Scabby. Butí. Virulent. Hangol. Poor. Maligsi. Nimble, light. Dupalog. Rough, dull. Bulahan. Happy. Palad-an. Lucky. Ualay palad. Unfortunate. Mato-od. Certain. Dili mato-od. False. Masulub-on. Melancholy. Mamingao-on. Sad, gloomy. Maibugon. Capricious. Masuco. Angry, fretful. Mabusug. Glutted. Mahupong. Satisfied. Bu-ang. Fool, mad. Bu-ut. Prudent. Masinabuton. Intelligent, clever. Ualay panagana. Imprudent. Palabilabihon. Haughty. Ualay salá. Innocent. Sala-an. Guilty. Tigbacac. Lying. Malimbongon. Cheat. Maulay. Chaste. Maolag. Lewd. Mau-ulao-on. Shameful. Maligdon. Serious. Lampingasan. Impudent, barefaced. Mangahason. Audacious. Tamastamason. Insolent. Maquigaoayon. Quarrelsome. Tapolan. Lazy. Malomo ug cagauian. Sympathetic. Matinahoron. Courteous. Mahinoclogon. Merciful. Burung. Clumsy. Mabangis. Cruel. Tigpamalus. Revengeful. Masuquihon. Disobedient. Magahi ug bu-ut. Stubborn. Malolot. Generous. Mausicon. Spendthrift. Hingaon. Great eater. Ualay buhat. Idle, lazy. Abian. Friend. Ca-aoay. Foe, enemy. Matistis. Merry fellow. Maputi. White. Maitom. Black. Mapola. Red. Madalag. Yellow. Asul. Blue. Maitomitom. Brown. Morado. Violet. Velde. Green. The Most Important Verbs Study. Pagestudio. To study. Pagto-on. To learn. Pagto-on sa olo, pagsaolo. To learn by heart. Pagsingcamut sa pagto-on. To apply one's self to study. Pagcugui sa pagto-on. To be diligent to learn. Pagtodlo. To teach. Pagsaysay. To explain. Paggama sa hunahuna. To invent, to discover. Pagtocod. To compose. Pagbasa. To read. Pagsulat. To write. Pagfirma. To sign. Pagsaoay. To correct. Pagsayop. To mistake. Pagpanás. To blot. Paghoad. To copy. Paghubad. To translate. Pagsugud. To begin. Pagdayon. To continue. Pagtapus. To finish. Paghingpit. To perfect. Paghibalo. To have notice of. Pagalam. To know. Pagdumdum. To remember. Pagcalimút. To forget. Pagsanasana. To form an idea. Pagbadlong. To blame. Conversation Pagloas. To pronounce. Pagpamolong. To speak. Pagingon. To say, tell. Paguali. To preach. Pagsinggit. To cry out. Pagtiabao. To scream, cry. Pagsugil. To refer, report. Pagsugilon. To tell, relate. Pagbantug. To proclaim. Pagsangyao. To make know. Paghilom. To be silent. Pagtaoag. To call. Pagpangutana. To ask, question Pagtubag. To answer. Pagbalibad. To excuse. Pagsultisulti. To talk. Pagpahibalo. To advise. Pagpanagana. To foreknow. Pagsogo. To order. Pagsugut. To obey. Pagtug-an. To declare. Pagpamato-od To certify. Paglimod. To deny. Pagpacadautan. To reject. Pagpacama-ayo. To approve. Pagpalaban. To defend. Pagcasaba. To reprehend. Pagsaoay. To upbraid. Pagindigindig. To dispute. Pagaoay. To wrangle. To Eat and Drink Paggutum. To be hungry. Pagpangaon. To eat. Paginom. To drink. Paguhao. To be thirsty. Pagusap. To chew. Pagtolon. To swallow. Pagsoyop. To sip. Paghigop. To suck, sip. Pagtilao. To taste. Pagpicas. To divide, cut. Pagad-ad. To carve, cut. Pagpoasa. To fast. Pagpamahao. To breakfast. Pagpaniodto. To dinner. Pagpanihapon. To sup. Pagdapit. To invite. Pagcahubóg. To intoxicate. Dili paghilis sa quinaon. Indigestion. Pagpulus sa quinaon. To nourish. Pagtilap. To lick, lap. Life Pagcatao. To be born. Paghimogso. To bring forth. Pagbuñag. To baptise. Pagcabuhi. To live. Pagcatobo. To grow. Pagtamboc. To fatten. Pagnioang. To weaken. Pagmiño. To marry, wed. Pagmabdos. To be pregnant. Paganac. To bring forth. Pagpasoso. To give suck. Pagbalo. To become widow. Pagtigulang. To make old. Pagcamatay. To die. Pagluboug. To bury. Pagsonod sa cabilin. To inherit. Pagcabanhao. To revive. Toilet Pagalut. To shave. Pagvisti. To dress. Paghubo. To take off the dress. Pagligo. To bathe. Paghilamus. To wash one's self the face. Paghunao. To wash one's self the face. Bed Paghigda. To go to bed. Pagcatalog. To sleep. Paghimatá. To wake. Pagpucao. To awake. Pagtabiog. To stir, rock. Pagtucao. To watch, to keep awake. Paghagoc. To snore. Pagbangon, bacod. To arise, to get up from a bed. Natural Actions Pagcataoa. To laugh. Pagngisi-ngisi. To smile. Paghilac. To weep. Pagpanghayhay. To sigh. Pagpanghupao. To sigh, long for. Pagbahaon. To sneeze. Paglabgab. To gape, yawn. Paghoyop. To blow, puff. Pagtaghoy. To hiss, whistle. Pagpamati. To listen, hearken. Pagpatalinghog. To be attentive. Paglua, luda. To spit, salivate. Pagsignga. To blow one's nose. Paglua sa dugó. To vomit blood. Pagsingot. To sweat, perspire. Pagtoroc sa bonga sa singot. To be fleabitten, to be with rash, to be full of fleabites. Pagquita. To see. Pagtan-ao. To behold, look. Pagdongog. To hear. Pagsinghot. To smell. Pagcahumút. To smell well. Pagcabahó. To smell nasty. Paglami. To give a relish, a zest. Paghicap. To touch. Paghubag. To swell, inflate. Pagcaodas. To scratch, touch (bad sense). Pagihi. To make water. Pagotot. To break wind. Pagcalibang. To go to stool. Love and Hatred Paghigugma. To love. Pagbu-ut. To wish, will. Paghimmu-ut. To be pleased with. Pagolo-olo. To flatter. Pagabi-abi. To court, greet, salute. Pagibid-ibid. To fondle. Pagamoma. To breat, kindly. Pagdayeg. To praise. Paggacus. To embrace. Paghaluc. To kiss. Pagbadlong. To advise. Pagsaoay. To blame. Pagcastigo. To chastise. Pagsilot. To mulct. Paghampac. To whip. Pagtamay. To despise. Pagyubit. To scoff. Pagmahay. To complain. Paghomot. To threaten. Pagbalus. To revenge. Pagpasaylo. To pardon. Pagbalus ug ma-ayo. To reward. Pagbayad. To pay. Pagdomot. To bear rancour to. Pagcasilag. To hate. Pagbia. To abandon. Pagcaulao. To be shamed. Pagpangahas. To dare to. Pagsamoc. To trouble. Pagsumbong. To accuse. Pagbalidad. To excuse. Pagpasangil. To reproach. Pagsogot. To obey. Paghocom. To sentence. Pagdaut-daut. To damage. Pagpaquigaoay. To wrangle. Pagdaug To conquer, again. Pagpadaug. To be won. Pagpanulay. To tempt. Pagagao. To despoil. Pagcaoat. To rob, spoil. Pagpatay. To kill. Pagbonó. To wound, betray. Pagsamad. To wound, hurt. Pagbonal. To beat with a stick. Pagdayeg. To brag. Pagtonglo. To curse, slander. Pagtabang. To help. Pagtubus. To redeem. Pagbaui. To ransom. Pagbilanggo. To capture. Pagbitay. To hang. Pagigpit. To compress the neck in the instrument called a garrote. Memory and Understanding Pagcabut sa hunahuna. To conceive. Paghunahuna. To think. Pagpalandong. To meditate. Pagila. To know. Paghibalo. To have knowledge of. Pagalam. To be learned. Pagbu-ut. To wish, desire. Pagoyon. To agree, submit. Pagbutá. To grow blind. Pagcabildo. To confederate. Pagtimbang sa bu-ut. To exaggerate. Pagpaquigsabút. To deliberate. Pagtag-an. To hit upon. Pagmatngon. To attend. Pagsingcot. To search. Pagtingoha. To procure, try. Pagasoy. To explain. Pagsayod. To instruct. Pagpanghinaot. To desire. Pagpa-abut. To wait. Pagcahadluc. To fear. Pagcalisang. To be frightened. Pagcaculba. To be frightened. Pagbacac. To tell lies. Paghanip sa hunahuna. To dissemble, hide, cloak. Pagpaningon. To imitate, copy. Pagsusi. To inquire. Paglipay. To be gladded. Paghimu-ut. To be pleased. Pagcasobó. To be saddened. Pagcamingaa. To be afflicted. Pagcayugot. To be afflicted. Pagpo-ol. To be weary. Pagsuco. To become angry. Pagcaligutgut. To grow angry. Pagpungot. To be in a rage. Pagpoypoy. To become quiet. Paglucmay. To soften anger. Recreations Pagduladula. To amuse. Paglingaolingao. To amuse one's self. Pagcanta. To sing. Pagsayao. To dance. Pagdula. To play. Pagpacadaog. To gain, win. Pagdaog. To lose. Paglocso. To leap, jump. Pagambac. To jump down. Pagdalagan. To run. Pagsacay sa cabayo. To ride. Pagdalagan sa cabayo. To trot, to make a horse trot. Illness Pagalima sa masaquit. To take care of a sick. Pagtambal. To medicine. Pagayo-ayo. To grow better. Pagbughat. To fall back. Pagsamut. To grow worse. Pagpurga. To purify, purge. Pagpageringa. To syringe. Paghonad sa samad. To wash a wound. Pagtampoy sa dugó. To stop blood. Pagtugna sa samad. To see the fathom of the wound. Paghigda sa banig. To be confined to one's bed on account of sickness. Pagyamyam. To talk nonsense. Pagtingá. To breathe one's last, expire. Movements Paglihoc To move one's self. Pagtandug. To move. Pagadto. To go. Paganhi. To come. Paglacao. To walk. Pagbalic. To return (here). Pagpauli. To return (there). Pagsibut. To go backward. Pagpado-ol. To approach. Pagtindug. To raise. Paglibodlibod. To loiter about. Pagpanamilit. To bid one fare well. Paglicay. To fly, escape. Pagsonod. To proceed, follow. Paglusot. To slide, ship. Pagdacup. To seize. Pagsandig. To lean upon. Pagholog. To fall. Pagpangdol. To stumble. Pagtonob. To tread. Pagirug. To retire. Pagpahalayo. To deviate. Pagsulud. To enter, come in. Paggoa. To go out. Pagsaca. To ascend. Pagcanaog. To descend. Pagagi. To go though, pass for. Paglabay. To pass by. Handiworks Pagbuhat. To make, work. Pagandam. To make ready. Pagsira. To shut, close. Pagpiyong. To shut the eyes. Pagtac-om. To shut the mouth. Pagcomcom. To shut the hand. Pagpicot. To shut the legs. Pagbucá. To open the eyes. Pagnganga. To open the mouth. Pagbuclad. To open one's hand. Pagbila. To open the legs. Pagpaita-as. To raise, elevate. Pagsacoat. To heave, hold up. Pagyabó. To pour. Pagaoas. To overflow. Paghunob. To ooze. Pagbasa. To wet. Paghumod. To wetted. Pagumol. To dampen. Paghumoc. To soften. Paggahi. To harden. Pagosoag. To extend, expand. Paglagpad. To wide. Pagcomsod. To diminish. Pagdaro. To plough. Pagcalot sa yuta. To dig. Pagpugas. To sow. Pagtanom. To plant. Paggalab. To reap. Pagbunglay. To weed. Pagtimbang. To weigh. Pagtagcus. To tie. Pagbadbad. To untie. Pagbalictos. To knot. Pagondoc. To heap. Pagani. To gather the corn at harvest time. Pagtabon. To cover. Pagbucas. To uncover. Pagtago. To hide. Pagpacaquita. To find. Paghugao. To stain. Pagbuling. To soil. Pagpahid. To cleanse. Paghinlo. To embellish. Pagsilhig. To sweep. Pagputi. To white wash. Paglog-o. To rinse the glasses. Pagpamala. To air, refresh. Pagpaoga. To dry, parch. Paghugas. To rub, scour. Paglampaso. To swab. Paginit. To heat. Pagbugnao. To cool. Pagpintal. To paint. Pagliloc. To engrave. Pagbadlis. To draw, sketch. Pagpatic. To mark, note. Pagtocod. To build. Pagguba. To destroy, waste. Pagbolda. To embroider. Pagpo-oc sa bulaoan. To gild. Pagpo-oc sa salapi. To plate with silver. Paghalup. To set (a jewel). Pagbuho. To pierce. Paglangsang. To nail. Pagtahi. To sew. Pagbilic. To spin. Pagtapac. To patch, mend. Pagpiló. To fold. Paglit-ag. To catch birds with knots. Pagpuyo sa ualay buhat. To be idle. To Buy and Sell Pagpaquicomercio. To apply one's self to trade. Pagpalit. To buy. Pagbaligya. To sell. Pagpaquigsabut sa bili. To adjust the price, to agree. Pagbili. To value. Pagbutang sa bili. To tax, rate at. Pagbali. To be valuable. Paghangyo. To haggle. Paghalin. To dispatch. Paghulam. To lend. Pagpahulam. To borrow. Pagpautang. To owe. Pagbayad. To pay. Pagdaginot. To economize. Pagpoto. To ruin. Pagusic. To squander. About the Worship to God Pagsingba. To adore. Paghapá. To prostrate one's self. Pagtambong sa misa. To hear mass. Pagpalangdong. To meditate. Pagpangamoyo. To supplicate, beg. Pagpangadye. To pray. Pagsantos sa piesta. To keep the holy day. Paglohod. To kneel down. Pagcompisal. To confess. Pagcalaoat. To communicate. Pagbalic sa Dios. To return to God. Paghinulsul. To repent. Pagpacasala. To sin. Pagcasayop. To fault. Pagholog sa inpierno. To be condemned. Pagdangat sa langit. To be salved. Pagbia sa pagcacristianos. To apostatize. Pagamong-among sa mga butang nga cristianos. To profane, violate. Pagpanumpa. To swear, to make oath. Pagpatampalas sa Dios. To blaspheme. About the Time Pagdag-om. To be cloudy. Pagadlao. To be clear. Paghulao. To be dried. Pagolan. To rain. Pagalindahao. To drizzle. Pagolan sa olan nga natibo-oc. To snow. Pagolan sa mga tolo nga mibactot. To hail. Pagquilat. To lighten. Pagdalogdog. To thunder. Paglinti. To thunder strike. INDEX. Bisaya Alphabet First Lesson--Of the article Second Lesson--Of the Noun Third Lessen--Of the Cardinal Numbers Ordinal Numbers Partitive and distributive Numbers and Vicenal numbers Fourth Lesson--Of the Pronouns Demonstrative Pronouns Possessive Pronouns Relative Pronouns Fifth Lesson--Of the Adjective Sixth Lesson--Diminutive Adjectives Degrees of Comparison Seventh Lesson--Unitive Particles Eighth Lesson--The Verb Ninth Lesson--Of the verb To be The verb To have Tenth Lesson--The adjective Verbs Eleventh Lesson--Of the Passives Twelfth Lesson--Some rules upon the Passives Thirteenth Lesson--Of the Particles Fourteenth Lesson--Of the Imperative and Impersonal Present Participles or Gerunds Fifteenth Lesson--Infinitive Sentences Sixteenth Lesson--Of the particles Pa and Iga Seventeenth Lesson--Of the Particle Nagapa Eighteenth Lesson--Of the Particle Nagapaca Nineteenth Lesson--Of the Particle Naca Twentieth Lesson--Of the particle Naca causal Twenty first Lesson--Of the Particles Mi and Na Twenty second Lesson--Of the particles Nanag and Nan Twenty third Lesson--Of the particles Naquig--Naqui Twenty fourth Lesson--Of the particles Naha, Nahi, Napa, Nasig, Nasighi, Nangi, Nanhi, Nanig, Nanum, Nani Twenty fifth Lesson--Impersonal Verbs Twenty sixth Lesson--Defective Verbs Twenty seventh Lesson--Practical Sentences Twenty eighth Lesson--Practical Sentences Key to the Exercises Table of the Particles and their Passives ERRATA Pag. Column. Line. Says. Must be said. 5 10 Enhlish English. 8 22 Elderst. Elder. 13 1 22 Nive. Nine. 14 1 20 Conmandmen. Commandment. 14 4 Younh. Young. 17 1 25 Nex. Next. 21 2 20 Guino-o pasayloa Guino-o pasaylo-a camé came. nga mga macasasala. 22 6 Expresed. Expressed. 32 33 Pasivo. Passive. 37 18 Tings. Things. 41 4 Kill. Kills. 55 25 Awails. Avails. 55 1 9 Oar Lord spended. Our Lord spent. 58 1 29 Scolar. Scholar. 64 1 7 I orderer. I ordered. 69 28 the Bisay adialect. the Bisaya dialect. 88 1 36 peaple. people. 100 8 sa mga higala ug ang sa mga higala mo ug aco. ang aco. 118 1 A Tabla. A Table. 140 2 27 Paciencie. Patience. 141 2 25 Molicious. Malicious. 142 2 35 Clear.(2. o) Clean. 150 1 7 Pagdayeg. Pagparayeg. 2 23 Hav knoledge of. Have knowledge of. 151 1 10 Camingaa. Camingao. 
20299	----	Distributed Proofreaders Europe at http://dp.rastko.net, This file was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica). [Illustration BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE I FEMALE DANCING IN HULA COSTUME] [Page 1] SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 UNWRITTEN LITERATURE OF HAWAII THE SACRED SONGS OF THE HULA COLLECTED AND TRANSLATED, WITH NOTES AND AN ACCOUNT OF THE HULA BY NATHANIEL B. EMERSON, A.M., M.D. WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1909 [Page 2][Blank] [Page 3] PREFATORY NOTE Previous to the year 1906 the researches of the Bureau were restricted to the American Indians, but by act of Congress approved June 30 of that year the scope of its operations was extended to include the natives of the Hawaiian islands. Funds were not specifically provided, however, for prosecuting investigations among these people, and in the absence of an appropriation for this purpose it was considered inadvisable to restrict the systematic investigations among the Indian tribes in order that the new field might be entered. Fortunately the publication of valuable data pertaining to Hawaii is already provided for, and the present memoir by Doctor Emerson is the first of the Bureau's Hawaiian series. It is expected that this Bulletin will be followed shortly by one comprising an extended list of works relating to Hawaii, compiled by Prof. H.M. Ballou and Dr. Cyrus Thomas. W.H. HOLMES, _Chief._ [Page 4] [Blank] [Page 5] CONTENTS Page Introduction 7 I. The hula 11 II. The halau; the kuahu--their decoration and consecration 14 III. The gods of the hula 23 IV. Support and organization of the hula 26 V. Ceremonies of graduation; debut of a hula dancer 31 VI. The password--the song of admission 38 VII. Worship at the altar of the halau 42 VIII. Costume of the hula dancer 49 IX. The hula alá'a-papa 57 X. The hula pa-ipu, or kuolo 73 XI. The hula ki'i 91 XII. The hula pahu 103 XIII. The hula úliulí 107 XIV. The hula puili 113 XV. The hula ka-laau 116 XVI. The hula ili-ili 120 XVII. The hula kaekeeke 122 XVIII. An intermission 126 XIX. The hula niau-kani 132 XX. The hula ohe 135 XXI. The music and musical instruments of the Hawaiians 138 XXII. Gesture 176 XXIII. The hula pa-hua 183 XXIV. The hula Pele 186 XXV, The hula pa'i-umauma 202 XXVI. The hula ku'i Molokai 207 XXVII. The hula kielei 210 XXVIII. The hula mú'u-mú'u 212 XXIX. The hula kolani 216 XXX. The hula kolea 219 XXXI. The hula manó 221 XXXII. The hula ilio 223 XXXIII. The hula pua'a 228 XXXIV. The hula ohelo 233 XXXV. Thehula kilu 235 XXXVI. The hula hoonaná 244 XXXVII. The hula ulili 246 XXXVIII. The hula o-niu 248 XXXIX. The hula ku'i 250 XL. The oli 254 XLI. The water of Kane 257 XLII. General review 260 Glossary 265 Index 271 [Page 6] ILLUSTRATIONS Page PLATE I. Female dancing in hula costume Frontispiece II. Íe-íe (Freycinetia arnotti) leaves and fruit 19 III. Hála-pépe (Dracaena aurea) 24 IV. Maile (Alyxia myrtillifolia) wreath 32 V. Ti (Dracaena terminalis) 44 VI. Ilima (Sida fallax), lei and flowers 56 VII. Ipu hula, gourd drum 73 VIII. Marionettes (Maile-pakaha, Nihi-au-moe) 91 IX. Marionette (Maka-kú) 93 X. Pahu hula, hula drum 103 XI. Úli-ulí, a gourd rattle 107 XII. Hawaiian tree-snails (Achatinella) 120 XIII. Lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha) flowers and leaves 126 XIV. Hawaiian trumpet, pu (Cassis madagascarensis) 131 XV. Woman playing on the nose-flute (ohe-hano-ihu) 135 XVI. Pu-niu, a drum 142 XVII. Hawaiian musician playing on the uku-lele 164 XVIII. Hala fruit bunch and drupe with a "lei" 170 XIX. Pu (Triton tritonis) 172 XX. Phyllodia and true leaves of the koa (Acacia koa) 181 XXI. Pala-palai ferns 194 XXII. Awa-puhi, a Hawaiian ginger 210 XXIII. Hinano hala 235 XXIV. Lady dancing the hula ku'i 250 FIGURE 1. Puíli, bamboo rattle 113 2. Ka, drumstick for pu-niu 142 3. Ohe-hano-ihu, nose-flute 145 MUSICAL PIECES I. Range of the nose-flute--Elsner 146 II. Music from the nose-flute--Elsner 146 III. The _ukeké_ (as played by Keaonaloa)--Eisner 149 IV. Song from the hula pa'i-umauma--Berger 153 V. Song from the hula pa-ipu--Berger 153 VI. Song for the hula Pele--Berger 154 VII. Oli and mele from the hula ala'a-papa--Yarndley 156 VIII. _He Inoa no Kamehameha_--Byington 162 IX. Song, _Poli Anuanu_--Yarndley 164 X. Song, _Hua-hua'i_--Yarndley 166 XI. Song, _Ka Mawae_--Berger 167 XII. Song, _Like no a Like_--Berger 168 XIII. Song, _Pili Aoao_--Berger 169 XIV. _Hawaii Ponoi_--Berger 172 [Page 7] INTRODUCTION This book is for the greater part a collection of Hawaiian songs and poetic pieces that have done service from time immemorial as the stock supply of the _hula_. The descriptive portions have been added, not because the poetical parts could not stand by themselves, but to furnish the proper setting and to answer the questions of those who want to know. Now, the hula stood for very much to the ancient Hawaiian; it was to him in place of our concert-hall and lecture-room, our opera and theater, and thus became one of his chief means of social enjoyment. Besides this, it kept the communal imagination in living touch with the nation's legendary past. The hula had songs proper to itself, but it found a mine of inexhaustible wealth in the epics and wonder-myths that celebrated the doings of the volcano goddess Pele and her compeers. Thus in the cantillations of the old-time hula we find a ready-made anthology that includes every species of composition in the whole range of Hawaiian poetry. This epic[1] of Pele was chiefly a more or less detached series of poems forming a story addressed not to the closet-reader, but to the eye and ear and heart of the assembled chiefs and people; and it was sung. The Hawaiian song, its note of joy par excellence, was the _oli_; but it must be noted that in every species of Hawaiian poetry, _mele_--whether epic or eulogy or prayer, sounding through them all we shall find the lyric note. [Footnote 1: It might be termed a handful of lyrics strung on an epic thread.] The most telling record of a people's intimate life is the record which it unconsciously makes in its songs. This record which the Hawaiian people have left of themselves is full and specific. When, therefore, we ask what emotions stirred the heart of the old-time Hawaiian as he approached the great themes of life and death, of ambition and jealousy, of sexual passion, of romantic love, of conjugal love, and parental love, what his attitude toward nature and the dread forces of earthquake and storm, and the mysteries of spirit and the hereafter, we shall find our answer in the songs and prayers and recitations of the hula. The hula, it is true, has been unfortunate in the mode and manner of its introduction to us moderns. An institution of divine, that is, religious, origin, the hula in modern times [Page 8] has wandered so far and fallen so low that foreign and critical esteem has come to associate it with the riotous and passionate ebullitions of Polynesian kings and the amorous posturing of their voluptuaries. We must make a just distinction, however, between the gestures and bodily contortions presented by the men and women, the actors in the hula, and their uttered words. "The voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau." In truth, the actors in the hula no longer suit the action to the word. The utterance harks back to the golden age; the gesture is trumped up by the passion of the hour, or dictated by the master of the hula, to whom the real meaning of the old bards is ofttimes a sealed casket. Whatever indelicacy attaches in modern times to some of the gestures and contortions of the hula dancers, the old-time hula songs in large measure were untainted with grossness. If there ever were a Polynesian Arcadia, and if it were possible for true reports of the doings and sayings of the Polynesians to reach us from that happy land--reports of their joys and sorrows, their love-makings and their jealousies, their family spats and reconciliations, their worship of beauty and of the gods and goddesses who walked in the garden of beauty--we may say, I think, that such a report would be in substantial agreement with the report that is here offered; but, if one's virtue will not endure the love-making of Arcadia, let him banish the myth from his imagination and hie to a convent or a nunnery. If this book does nothing more than prove that savages are only children of a younger growth than ourselves, that what we find them to have been we ourselves--in our ancestors--once were, the labor of making it will have been not in vain'. For an account of the first hula we may look to the story of Pele. On one occasion that goddess begged her sisters to dance and sing before her, but they all excused themselves, saying they did not know the art. At that moment in came little Hiiaka, the youngest and the favorite. Unknown to her sisters, the little maiden had practised the dance under the tuition of her friend, the beautiful but ill-fated Hopoe. When banteringly invited to dance, to the surprise of all, Hiiaka modestly complied. The wave-beaten sand-beach was her floor, the open air her hall; Feet and hands and swaying form kept time to her improvisation: Look, Puna is a-dance in the wind; The palm groves of Kea-au shaken. Haena and the woman Hopoe dance and sing On the beach Nana-huki, A dance of purest delight, Down by the sea Nana-huki. The nature of this work has made it necessary to use occasional Hawaiian words in the technical parts. At their [Page 9] first introduction it has seemed fitting that they should be distinguished by italics; but, once given the entrée, it is assumed that, as a rule, they will be granted the rights of free speech without further explanation. A glossary, which explains all the Hawaiian words used in the prose text, is appended. Let no one imagine, however, that by the use of this little crutch alone he will be enabled to walk or stumble through the foreign ways of the simplest Hawaiian _mele_. Notes, often copious, have been appended to many of the mele, designed to exhaust neither the subject nor the reader, but to answer some of the questions of the intelligent thinker. Thanks, many thanks, are due, first, to those native Hawaiians who have so far broken with the old superstitious tradition of concealment as to unearth so much of the unwritten literary wealth stored in Hawaiian memories; second, to those who have kindly contributed criticism, suggestion, material at the different stages of this book's progress; and, lastly, to those dear friends of the author's youth--living or dead--whose kindness has made it possible to send out this fledgling to the world. The author feels under special obligations to Dr. Titus Munson Coan, of New York, for a painstaking revision of the manuscript. HONOLULU, HAWAII. [Page 10][Blank] [Page 11] LITERATURE OF HAWAII By NATHANIEL B. EMERSON I.--THE HULA One turns from the study of old genealogies, myths, and traditions of the Hawaiians with a hungry despair at finding in them means so small for picturing the people themselves, their human interests and passions; but when it comes to the hula and the whole train of feelings and sentiments that made their entrances and exits in the _halau_ (the hall of the hula) one perceives that in this he has found the door to the heart of the people. So intimate and of so simple confidence are the revelations the people make of themselves in their songs and prattlings that when one undertakes to report what he has heard and to translate into the terms of modern speech what he has received in confidence, as it were, he almost blushes, as if he had been guilty of spying on Adam and Eve in their nuptial bower. Alas, if one could but muffle his speech with the unconscious lisp of infancy, or veil and tone his picture to correspond to the perspective of antiquity, he might feel at least that, like Watteau, he had dealt worthily, if not truly, with that ideal age which we ever think of as the world's garden period. The Hawaiians, it is true, were many removes from being primitives; their dreams, however, harked back to a period that was close to the world's infancy. Their remote ancestry was, perhaps, akin to ours--Aryan, at least Asiatic--but the orbit of their evolution seems to have led them away from the strenuous discipline that has whipped the Anglo-Saxon branch into fighting shape with fortune. If one comes to the study of the hula and its songs in the spirit of a censorious moralist he will find nothing for him; if as a pure ethnologist, he will take pleasure in pointing out the physical resemblances of the Hawaiian dance to the languorous grace of the Nautch girls, of the geisha, and other oriental dancers. But if he comes as a student and lover of human nature, back of the sensuous posturings, in the emotional language of the songs he will find himself entering the playground of the human race. The hula was a religious service, in which poetry, music, pantomime, and the dance lent themselves, under the forms of [Page 12] dramatic art, to the refreshment of men's minds. Its view of life was idyllic, and it gave itself to the celebration of those mythical times when gods and goddesses moved on the earth as men and women and when men and women were as gods. As to subject-matter, its warp was spun largely from the bowels of the old-time mythology into cords through which the race maintained vital connection with its mysterious past. Interwoven with these, forming the woof, were threads of a thousand hues and of many fabrics, representing the imaginations of the poet, the speculations of the philosopher, the aspirations of many a thirsty soul, as well as the ravings and flame-colored pictures of the sensualist, the mutterings and incantations of the _kahuna_, the mysteries and paraphernalia of Polynesian mythology, the annals of the nation's history--the material, in fact, which in another nation and under different circumstances would have gone to the making of its poetry, its drama, its opera, its literature. The people were superstitiously religious; one finds their drama saturated with religious feeling, hedged about with tabu, loaded down with prayer and sacrifice. They were poetical; nature was full of voices for their ears; their thoughts came to them as images; nature was to them an allegory; all this found expression in their dramatic art. They were musical; their drama must needs be cast in forms to suit their ideas of rhythm, of melody, and of poetic harmony. They were, moreover, the children of passion, sensuous, worshipful of whatever lends itself to pleasure. How, then, could the dramatic efforts of this primitive people, still in the bonds of animalism, escape the note of passion? The songs and other poetic pieces which have come down to us from the remotest antiquity are generally inspired with a purer sentiment and a loftier purpose than the modern; and it may be said of them all that when they do step into the mud it is not to tarry and wallow in it; it is rather with the unconscious naiveté of a child thinking no evil. On the principle of "the terminal conversion of opposites," which the author once heard an old philosopher expound, the most advanced modern is better able to hark back to the sweetness and light and music of the primeval world than the veriest wigwam-dweller that ever chipped an arrowhead. It is not so much what the primitive man can give us as what we can find in him that is worth our while. The light that a Goethe, a Thoreau, or a Kipling can project into Arcadia is mirrored in his own nature. If one mistakes not the temper and mind of this generation, we are living in an age that is not content to let perish one seed of thought or one single phase of life that can be rescued from the drift of time. We mourn the extinction of the buffalo of the plains and of the birds of the islands, [Page 13] rightly thinking that life is somewhat less rich and full without them. What of the people of the plains and of the islands of the sea? Is their contribution so nothingless that one can affirm that the orbit of man's mind is complete without it? Comparison is unavoidable between the place held by the dance in ancient Hawaii and that occupied by the dance in our modern society. The ancient Hawaiians did not personally and informally indulge in the dance for their own amusement, as does pleasure-loving society at the present time. Like the Shah of Persia, but for very different reasons, Hawaiians of the old time left it to be done for them by a body of trained and paid performers. This was not because the art and practice of the hula were held in disrepute--quite the reverse--but because the hula was an accomplishment requiring special education and arduous training in both song and dance, and more especially because it was a religious matter, to be guarded against profanation by the observance of tabus and the performance of priestly rites. This fact, which we find paralleled in every form of communal amusement, sport, and entertainment in ancient Hawaii, sheds a strong light on the genius of the Hawaiian. We are wont to think of the old-time Hawaiians as light-hearted children of nature, given to spontaneous outbursts of song and dance as the mood seized them; quite as the rustics of "merrie England" joined hands and tripped "the light fantastic toe" in the joyous month of May or shouted the harvest home at a later season. The genius of the Hawaiian was different. With him the dance was an affair of premeditation, an organized effort, guarded by the traditions of a somber religion. And this characteristic, with qualifications, will be found to belong to popular Hawaiian sport and amusement of every variety. Exception must be made, of course, of the unorganized sports of childhood. One is almost inclined to generalize and to say that those children of nature, as we are wont to call them, in this regard were less free and spontaneous than the more advanced race to which we are proud to belong. But if the approaches to the temple of Terpsichore with them were more guarded, we may confidently assert that their enjoyment therein was deeper and more abandoned. [Page 14] II.--THE HALAU; THE KUAHU--THEIR DECORATION AND CONSECRATION THE HALAU In building a halau, or hall, in which to perform the hula a Hawaiian of the old, old time was making a temple for his god. In later and degenerate ages almost any structure would serve the purpose; it might be a flimsy shed or an extemporaneous _lanai_ such as is used to shelter that _al fresco_ entertainment, the _luau_. But in the old times of strict tabu and rigorous etiquette, when the chief had but to lift his hand and the entire population of a district ransacked plain, valley, and mountain to collect the poles, beams, thatch, and cordstuff; when the workers were so numerous that the structure grew and took shape in a day, we may well believe that ambitious and punctilious patrons of the hula, such as La'a, Liloa, or Lono-i-ka-makahiki, did not allow the divine art of Laka to house in a barn. The choice of a site was a matter of prime importance. A formidable code enunciated the principles governing the selection. But--a matter of great solicitude--there were omens to be heeded, snares and pitfalls devised by the superstitious mind for its own entanglement. The untimely sneeze, the ophthalmic eye, the hunched back were omens to be shunned. Within historic times, since the abrogation of the tabu system and the loosening of the old polytheistic ideas, there has been in the hula a lowering of former standards, in some respects a degeneration. The old gods, however, were not entirely dethroned; the people of the hula still continued to maintain the form of divine service and still appealed to them for good luck; but the soul of worship had exhaled; the main study now was to make of the hula a pecuniary success. In an important sense the old way was in sympathy with the thought, "Except God be with the workmen, they labor in vain that build the house." The means for gaining divine favor and averting the frown of the gods were those practised by all religionists in the infantile state of the human mind--the observance of fasts and tabus, the offering of special prayers and sacrifices. The ceremonial purification of the site, or of the building if it had been used for profane purposes, was accomplished by aspersions with sea water mixed with turmeric or red earth. [Page 15] When one considers the tenacious hold which all rites and ceremonies growing out of what we are accustomed to call superstitions had on the mind of the primitive Hawaiian, it puzzles one to account for the entire dropping out from modern memory of the prayers which were recited during the erection of a hall for the shelter of an institution so festive and so popular as the hula, while the prayers and gloomy ritual of the temple service have survived. The explanation may be found, perhaps, in the fact that the priests of the temple held position by the sovereign's appointment; they formed a hierarchy by themselves, whereas the position of the _kumu-hula_, who was also a priest, was open to anyone who fitted himself for it by training and study and by passing successfully the _ai-lolo_[2] ordeal. After that he had the right to approach the altar of the hula god with the prescribed offerings and to present the prayers and petitions of the company to Laka or Kapo. [Footnote 2: _Ai-lolo_. See pp. 32, 34, 36.] In pleasing contrast to the worship of the _heiau_, the service of the hula was not marred by the presence of groaning victims and bloody sacrifices. Instead we find the offerings to have been mostly rustic tokens, things entirely consistent with light-heartedness, joy, and ecstasy of devotion, as if to celebrate the fact that heaven had come down to earth and Pan, with all the nymphs, was dancing. During the time the halau was building the tabus and rules that regulated conduct were enforced with the utmost strictness. The members of the company were required to maintain the greatest propriety of demeanor, to suppress all rudeness of speech and manner, to abstain from all carnal indulgence, to deny themselves specified articles of food, and above all to avoid contact with a corpse. If anyone, even by accident, suffered such defilement, before being received again into fellowship or permitted to enter the halau and take part in the exercises he must have ceremonial cleansing (_huikala_). The _kumu_ offered up prayers, sprinkled the offender with salt water and turmeric, commanded him to bathe in the ocean, and he was clean. If the breach of discipline was gross and willful, an act of outrageous violence or the neglect of tabu, the offender could be restored only after penitence and confession. THE KUAHU In every halau stood the _kuahu_, or altar, as the visible temporary abode of the deity, whose presence was at once the inspiration of the performance and the luck-bringer of the enterprise--a rustic frame embowered in greenery. The gathering of the green leaves and other sweet finery of [Page 16] nature for its construction and decoration was a matter of so great importance that it could not be intrusted to any chance assemblage of wild youth, who might see fit to take the work in hand. There were formalities that must be observed, songs to be chanted, prayers to be recited. It was necessary to bear in mind that when one deflowered the woods of their fronds of _íe-íe_ and fern or tore the trailing lengths of _maile_--albeit in honor of Laka herself--the body of the goddess was being despoiled, and the despoiling must be done with all tactful grace and etiquette. It must not be gathered from this that the occasion was made solemn and oppressive with weight of ceremony, as when a temple was erected or as when a tabu chief walked abroad, and all men lay with their mouths in the dust. On the contrary, it was a time of joy and decorous exultation, a time when in prayer-songs and ascriptions of praise the poet ransacked all nature for figures and allusions to be used in caressing the deity. The following adulatory prayer (_kánaenáe_) in adoration of Laka was recited while gathering the woodland decorations for the altar. It is worthy of preservation for its intrinsic beauty, for the spirit of trustfulness it breathes. We remark the petitions it utters for the growth of tree and shrub, as if Laka had been the alma mater under whose influence all nature budded and rejoiced. It would seem as if the physical ecstasy of the dance and the sensuous joy of all nature's finery had breathed their spirit into the aspiration and that the beauty of leaf and flower, all of them familiar forms of the god's metamorphosis--accessible to their touch and for the regalement of their senses--had brought such nearness and dearness, of affection between goddess and worshiper that all fear was removed. _He kánaenáe no Laka_ A ke kua-hiwi, i ke kua-lono, Ku ana o Laka i ka mauna; Noho ana o Laka i ke po'o o ka ohu. O Laka kumu hula, 5 Nana i a'e ka tvao-kele,[3] Kahi, kahi i moli'a i ka pua'a, I ke po'o pua'a, He pua'a hiwa na Kane.[4] [Page 17] He kane na Laka, 10 Na ka wahine i oni a kelakela i ka lani: I kupu ke a'a i ke kumu, I lau a puka ka mu'o, Ka liko, ka ao i-luna. Kupu ka lala, hua ma ka Hikina; 15 Kupu ka laau ona a Maka-li'i,[5] O Maka-lei,[6] laau kaulana mai ka Po mai.[7] Mai ka Po mai ka oiaio-- I ho-i'o i-luna, i o'o i-luna. He luna au e ki'i mai nei ia oe, e Laka, 20 E ho'i ke ko-kua[8] pa-ú; He la uniki[9] e no kaua; Ha-ike-ike[10] o ke Akua; Hoike ka mana o ka Wahine, O Laka, kaikuahine, 25 Wahine a Lono i ka ou-alii.[11] E Lono, e hu'[12] ia mai ka lani me ka honua. Nou okoa Kukulu o Kaniki.[13] Me ke ano-ai[14] i aloha, e! E ola, e! [Footnote 3: _Wao-kele_. That portion of the mountain forest where grew the monarch trees was called _wao-kele_ or _wao-maukele_.] [Footnote 4: _Na Kane_. Why was the offering, the black roast porkling, said to be for Kane, who was not a special patron, _au-makúa_, of the hula? The only answer the author has been able to obtain from any Hawaiian is that, though Kane was not a god of the hula, he was a near relative. On reflection, the author can see a propriety in devoting the reeking flesh of the swine to god Kane, while to the sylvan deity, Lâkâ, goddess of the peaceful hula, were devoted the rustic offerings that were the embodiment of her charms. Her image, or token--an uncarved block of wood--was set up in a prominent part of the _kuahu_, and at the close of a performance the wreaths that had been worn by the actors were draped about the image. Thus viewed, there is a delicate propriety and significance in such disposal of the pig.] [Footnote 5: _Maka-li'i_ (Small eyes). The Pleiades; also the period of six months, including the rainy season, that began some time in October or November and was reckoned from the date when the Pleiades appeared in the East at sunset. _Maka-li'i_ was also the name of a month, by some reckoned as the first month of the year.] [Footnote 6: _Maka-léi_. The name of a famous mythological tree which had the power of attracting fish. It did not poison, but only bewitched or fascinated them. There were two trees bearing this name, one a male, the other a female, which both grew at a place in Hilo called Pali-uli. One of these, the female, was, according to tradition, carried from its root home to the fish ponds in Kailua, Oahu, for the purpose of attracting fish to the neighboring waters. The enterprise was eminently successful.] [Footnote 7: _Po_. Literally night; the period in cosmogony when darkness and chaos reigned, before the affairs on earth had become settled under the rule of the gods. Here the word is used to indicate a period of remote mythologic antiquity. The use of the word _Po_ in the following verse reminds one of the French adage, "La nuit porte conseil."] [Footnote 8: _Kokúa_. Another form for _kakúa_, to gird on the _pa-ú_. (See _Pa-ú_ song, pp. 51-53.)] [Footnote 9: _Uníki_. A word not given in the dictionary. The debut of an actor at the hula, after passing the _ai-lolo_ test and graduating from the school of the halau, a critical event.] [Footnote 10: _Ha-íke-íke_. Equivalent to _ho-íke-íke_, an exhibition, to exhibit.] [Footnote 11: _Ou-alii_. The Hawaiians seem to have lost the meaning of this word. The author has been at some pains to work it out somewhat conjecturally.] [Footnote 12: _E Lono, e hu' ia, mai, etc_. The unelided form of the word _hu'_ would be _hui_. The final _i_ is dropped before the similar vowel of _ia_.] [Footnote 13: _Kukúlu o Kahíki_. The pillars of Kahiki. The ancient Hawaiians supposed the starry heavens to be a solid dome supported by a wall or vertical construction--_kukulu_--set up along the horizon. That section of the wall that stood over against Kahiki they termed _Kukulu o Kahiki_. Our geographical name Tahiti is of course from Kahiki, though it does not apply to the same region. After the close of what has been termed "the period of intercourse," which, came probably during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and during which the ancient Hawaiians voyaged to and fro between Hawaii and the lands of the South, geographical ideas became hazy and the term _Kahiki_ came to be applied to any foreign country.] [Footnote 14: _Áno-ái_. An old form of salutation, answering in general to the more modern word aloha, much used at the present time. _Ano-ai_ seems to have had a shade of meaning more nearly answering to our word "welcome." This is the first instance the author has met with of its use in poetry.] [Page 18] [Translation] _A Prayer of Adulation to Laka_ In the forests, on the ridges Of the mountains stands Laka; Dwelling in the source of the mists. Laka, mistress of the hula, 5 Has climbed the wooded haunts of the gods, Altars hallowed by the sacrificial swine, The head of the boar, the black boar of Kane. A partner he with Laka; Woman, she by strife gained rank in heaven. 10 That the root may grow from the stem, That the young shoot may put forth and leaf, Pushing up the fresh enfolded bud, The scion-thrust bud and fruit toward the East, Like the tree that bewitches the winter fish, 15 Maka-lei, tree famed from the age of night. Truth is the counsel of night-- May it fruit and ripen above. A messenger I bring you, O Laka, To the girding of paû. 20 An opening festa this for thee and me; To show the might of the god, The power of the goddess, Of Laka, the sister, To Lono a wife in the heavenly courts. 25 O Lono, join heaven and earth! Thine alone are the pillars of Kahiki. Warm greeting, beloved one, We hail thee! The cult of god Lono was milder, more humane, than that of Kane and the other major gods. No human sacrifices were offered on his altars,--The statement in verse 26 accords with the general belief of the Hawaiians that Lono dwelt in foreign parts, _Kukulu o Kahiki_, and that he would some time come to them from across the waters. When Captain Cook arrived in his ships, the Hawaiians worshiped him as the god Lono. [Illustration: IE-IE (FREYCINETIA ARNOTTI) LEAVES AND FRUIT] The following song-prayer also is one that was used at the gathering of the greenery in the mountains and during the building of the altar in the halau. When recited in the halau all the pupils took part, and the chorus was a response in which the whole assembly in the halau were expected to join: _Pule Kuahu no Laka_ Haki pu o ka nahelehele, Haki hana maile o ka wao, [Page 19] Hooulu[15] lei ou, o Laka, e! O Hiiaka[16] ke kaula nana e hooulu na ma'i, 5 A aeae a ulu[17] a noho i kou kuahu, Eia ka pule la, he pule ola, He noi ola nou, e-e! _Chorus:_ E ola ia makou, aohe hala! [Translation] _Altar-Prayer to Laka_ This spoil and rape of the wildwood, This plucking of wilderness maile-- Collect of garlands, Laka, for you. Hiiaka, the prophet, heals our diseases. 5 Enter, possess, inspire your altar; Heed our prayer, 'tis for life; Our petition to you is for life. _Chorus:_ Give us life, save from transgression! [Footnote 15: _Hoo-ulu_. This word has a considerable range of meaning, well illustrated in this mele. In its simplest form, _ulu_, it means to grow, to become strong. Joined with the causative _hoo_, as here, it takes on the spiritual meaning of causing to prosper, of inspiring. The word "collect," used in the translation, has been chosen to express the double sense of gathering the garlands and of devoting them to the goddess as a religious offering. In the fourth verse this word, _hooulu_, is used in the sense of to heal. Compare note _c_.] [Footnote 16: _Hiiaka_. The youngest sister of Pele, often spoken of as _Hiiaka-i-ka-poli-o-Pele_, Hiiaka-of-the-bosom-of-Pele. Why she should be spoken of as capable of healing diseases is not at all clear.] [Footnote 17: _Ulu_. Here we have the word _ulu_ in its simple, uncombined form, meaning to enter into and inspire.] The wildwoods of Hawaii furnished in great abundance and variety small poles for the framework of the kuahu, the altar, the holy place of the halau, and sweet-scented leaves and flowers suitable for its decoration. A spirit of fitness, however, limited choice among these to certain species that were deemed acceptable to the goddess because they were reckoned as among her favorite forms of metamorphosis. To go outside this ordained and traditional range would have been an offense, a sacrilege. This critical spirit would have looked with the greatest disfavor on the practice that in modern times has crept in, of bedecking the dancers with garlands of roses, pinks, jessamine, and other nonindigenous flowers, as being utterly repugnant to the traditional spirit of the hula. Among decorations approved and most highly esteemed stood pre-eminent the fragrant maile (pl. IV) and the star-like fronds and ruddy drupe of the _íe-íe_ (pl. II) and its kindred, the _hála-pépe_ (pl. III); the scarlet pompons of the _lehúa_ (pl. XIII) and _ohi'a_, with the fruit of the latter (the mountain-apple); many varieties of fern, including that splendid parasite, the "bird's nest fern" [Page 20] (_ekáha_), hailed by the Hawaiians as Mawi's paddle; to which must be added the commoner leaves and lemon-colored flowers of the native hibiscus, the _hau_, the breadfruit, the native banana and the dracæna (_ti_), plate V; and lastly, richest of all, in the color that became Hawaii's favorite, the royal yellow _ilíma_ (pl. VI), a flower familiar to the eyes of the tourist to Honolulu. While deft hands are building and weaving the light framework of the kuahu, binding its parts with strong vines and decorating it with nature's sumptuous embroidery, the _kumu_, or teacher, under the inspiration of the deity, for whose residence he has prepared himself by long vigil and fasting with fleshly abstinence, having spent the previous night alone in the halau, is chanting or cantillating his adulatory prayers, _kanaenae_--songs of praise they seem to be--to the glorification of the gods and goddesses who are invited to bless the occasion with their presence and inspiration, but especially of that one, Laka, whose bodily presence is symbolized by a rude block of wood arrayed in yellow tapa that is set up on the altar itself. Thus does the kumu sing: _Pule Kuahu_ El' au e Laka mai uka, E Laka mai kai; O hooulu O ka ilio[18] nana e hae, 5 O ka maile hihi i ka wao, O ka lau-ki[19] lei o ke akua, O na ku'i hauoli O Ha'i-ka-manawa.[20] O Laka oe, 10 O ke akua i ke kuahu nei, la; E ho'i, ho'i mai a noho i kou kuahu! [Translation] _Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka) Here am I, oh Laka from the mountains, Oh Laka from the shore; Protect us Against the dog that barks; [Page 21] 5 Reside in the wild-twining maile And the goddess-enwreathing ti. All, the joyful pulses. Of the woman Ha'i-ka-manawa! Thou art Laka, 10 The god of this altar; Return, return, abide in thy shrine! [Footnote 18: _Ilio nana e hae_. The barking of a dog, the crowing of a cock, the grunting of a pig, the hooting of an owl, or any such sound occurring at the time of a religious solemnity, _aha_, broke the spell of the incantation and vitiated the ceremony. Such an untimely accident was as much deprecated as were the Turk, the Comet, and the Devil by pious Christian souls during the Middle Ages.] [Footnote 19: _Lau-ki_. The leaf of the _ti_ plant--the same as the _ki_--(Dracæna terminalis), much used as an emblem of divine power, a charm or defense against malign spiritual influences. The kahuna often wore about his neck a fillet of this leaf. The _ti_ leaf was a special emblem of Ha'i-wahine, or of Li'a-wahine. It was much used as a decoration about the halau.] [Footnote 20: _Ha'i-ka-manawa_. It is conjectured that this is the same as Ha'i-wahine. She was a mythological character, about whom there is a long and tragic story.] The prayers which the hula folk of old times chanted while gathering the material in the woods or while weaving it into shape in the halau for the construction of a shrine did not form a rigid liturgy; they formed rather a repertory as elastic as the sighing of the breeze, or the songs of the birds whose notes embroidered the pure mountain air. There were many altar-prayers, so that if a prayer came to an end before the work was done the priest had but to begin the recitation of another prayer, or, if the spirit of the occasion so moved him, he would take up again a prayer already repeated, for until the work was entirely accomplished the voice of prayer must continue to be heard. The _pule_ now to be given seems to be specially suited to that portion of the service which took place in the woods at the gathering of the poles and greenery. It was designed specially for the placating of the little god-folk who from their number were addressed as _Kini o ke Akua_, the multitude of the little gods, and who were the counterparts in old Hawaii of our brownies, elfins, sprites, kobolds, gnomes, and other woodland imps. These creatures, though dwarfish and insignificant in person, were in such numbers--four thousand, forty thousand, four hundred thousand--and were so impatient of any invasion of their territory, so jealous of their prerogatives, so spiteful and revengeful when injured, that it was policy always to keep on the right side of them. _Pule Kuahu_ E hooulu ana I Kini[21] o ke Akua, Ka lehu o ke Akua, Ka mano o ke Akua, I ka pu-ku'i o ke Akua, 5 I ka lalani Akua, Ia ulu mai o Kane, Ulu o Kanaloa; Ulu ka ohia, lau ka ie-ie; Ulu ke Akua, noho i ke kahua, 10 A a'ea'e, a ulu, a noho kou kuahu. Eia ka pule la, he pule ola. _Chorus:_ E ola ana oe! [Footnote 21: _Kini o ke Akua._ See note _d_, p. 24.] [Page 22] [Translation] _Altar-Prayer_ Invoke we now the four thousand, The myriads four of the nimble, The four hundred thousand elves, The countless host of sprites, 5 Rank upon rank of woodland gods. Pray, Kane, also inspire us; Kanaloa, too, join the assembly. Now grows the _ohi'a_, now leafs _ie-ie_; God enters, resides in the place; 10 He mounts, inspires, abides in the shrine. This is our prayer, our plea this for life! _Chorus:_ Life shall be thine! From one point of view these _pule_ are not to be regarded as prayers in the ordinary sense of the word, but rather as song-offerings, verbal bouquets, affectionate sacrifices to the gods. [Page 23] III.--THE GODS OF THE HULA. Of what nature were the gods of the old times, and how did the ancient Hawaiians conceive of them? As of beings having the form, the powers, and the passions of humanity, yet standing above and somewhat apart from men. One sees, as through a mist, darkly, a figure, standing, moving; in shape a plant, a tree or vine-clad stump, a bird, a taloned monster, a rock carved by the fire-queen, a human form, a puff of vapor--and now it has given place to vacancy. It was a goddess, perhaps of the hula. In the solitude of the wilderness one meets a youthful being of pleasing address, of godlike wit, of elusive beauty; the charm of her countenance unspoken authority, her gesture command. She seems one with nature, yet commanding it. Food placed before her remains untasted; the oven, _imu_,[22] in which the fascinated host has heaped his abundance, preparing for a feast, when opened is found empty; the guest of an hour has disappeared. Again it was a goddess, perhaps of the hula. Or, again, a traveler meets a creature of divine beauty, all smiles and loveliness. The infatuated mortal, smitten with hopeless passion, offers blandishments; he finds himself by the roadside embracing a rock. It was a goddess of the hula. The gods, great and small, superior and inferior, whom the devotees and practitioners of the hula worshiped and sought to placate were many; but the goddess Laka was the one to whom they offered special prayers and sacrifices and to whom they looked as the patron, the _au-makua_,[23] of that institution. It was for her benefit and in her honor that the kuahu was set up, and the wealth of flower and leaf used in its decoration was emblematic of her beauty and glory, a pledge of her bodily presence, the very forms that she, a sylvan deity, was wont to assume when she pleased to manifest herself. As an additional crutch to the imagination and to emphasize the fact of her real presence on the altar which she had been invoked to occupy as her abode, she was symbolized by an uncarved block of wood from the sacred _lama_[24] tree. This was wrapped in a robe of choice yellow tapa, scented with turmeric, and set conspicuously upon the altar. [Footnote 22: _Imu_. The Hawaiian oven, which was a hole in the ground lined and arched over with stones.] [Footnote 23: _Au-makua_. An ancestral god.] [Footnote 24: _Lama_. A beautiful tree having firm, fine-grained, white wood; used in making sacred inclosures and for other tabu purposes.] [Page 24] Laka was invoked as the god of the maile, the ie-ie, and other wildwood growths before mentioned (pl. II). She was hailed as the "sister, wife, of god Lono," as "the one who by striving attained favor with the gods of the upper ether;" as "the kumu[25] hula"--head teacher of the Terpsichorean art; "the fount of joy;" "the prophet who brings health to the sick;" "the one whose presence gives life." In one of the prayers to Laka she is besought to come and take possession of the worshiper, to dwell in him as in a temple, to inspire him in all his parts and faculties--voice, hands, feet, the whole body. Laka seems to have been a friend, but not a relative, of the numerous Pele family. So far as the author has observed, the fiery goddess is never invited to grace the altar with her presence, nor is her name so much as mentioned in any prayer met with. To compare the gods of the Hawaiian pantheon with those of classic Greece, the sphere occupied by Laka corresponds most nearly to that filled by Terpsichore and Euterpe, the muses, respectively, of dance and of song. Lono, in one song spoken of as the husband of Laka, had features in common with Apollo. That other gods, Kane, Ku, Kanaloa,[26] with Lono, Ku-pulupulu,[27] and the whole swarm of godlings that peopled the wildwood, were also invited to favor the performances with their presence can be satisfactorily explained on the ground, first, that all the gods were in a sense members of one family, related to each other by intermarriage, if not by the ties of kinship; and, second, by the patent fact of that great underlying cause of bitterness and strife among immortals as well as mortals, jealousy. It would have been an eruptive occasion of heart-burning and scandal if by any mischance a privileged one should have had occasion to feel slighted; and to have failed in courtesy to that countless host of wilderness imps and godlings, the _Kini Akua_,[28] mischievous and irreverent as the monkeys of India, would indeed have been to tempt a disaster. While it is true that the testimony of the various _kumu-hula_, teachers of the hula, and devotees of the art of the hula, so far as the author has talked with them, has been overwhelmingly to the effect that Laka was the one and only divine patron of the art known to them, there has been a small number equally ready to assert that there were those who observed the cult of the goddess Kapo and worshiped her [Page 25] as the patron of the hula. The positive testimony of these witnesses must be reckoned as of more weight than the negative testimony of a much larger number, who either have not seen or will not look at the other side of the shield. At any rate, among the prayers before the kuahu, of which there are others yet to be presented, will be found several addressed to Kapo as the divine patron of the hula. [Footnote 25: The teacher, a leader and priest of the hula. The modern school-master is called _kumu-hula_.] [Footnote 25: _Kanaloa_. Kane, Ku, Kanaloa, and Lono were the major gods of the Hawaiian pantheon.] [Footnote 27: _Ku-pulupulu_. A god of the canoe-makers.] [Footnote 28: _Kini Akua_. A general expression--often used together with the ones that follow--meaning the countless swarms of brownies, elfs, kobolds, sprites, and other godlings (mischievous imps) that peopled the wilderness. _Kini_ means literally 40,000, _lehu_ 400,000, and _mano_ 4,000. See the _Pule Kuahu_--altar-prayer--on page 21. The Hawaiians, curiously enough, did not put the words _mano_, _kini_, and _lehu_ in the order of their numerical value.] [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE III HÁLA-PÉPE (DRACÆNA AUREA) ] Kapo was sister of Pele and the daughter of Haumea.[29] Among other roles played by her, like Laka she was at times a sylvan deity, and it was in the garb of woodland representations that she was worshiped by hula folk. Her forms of activity, corresponding to her different metamorphoses, were numerous, in one of which she was at times "employed by the _kahuna_[30] as a messenger in their black arts, and she is claimed by many as an _aumakua,_" [31] said to be the sister of Kalai-pahoa, the poison god. [Footnote 29: _Haumea_. The ancient goddess, or ancestor, the sixth in line of descent from Wakea.] [Footnote 30: _Kahuna._ A sorcerer; with a qualifying adjective it meant a skilled craftsman; _Kahuna-kalai-wa'a_ was a canoe-builder; _kahuna lapaau_ was a medicine-man, a doctor, etc.] [Footnote 31: The Lesser Gods of Hawaii, a paper by Joseph S. Emerson, read before the Hawaiian Historical Society, April 7, 1892.] Unfortunately Kapo had an evil name on account of a propensity which led her at times to commit actions that seem worthy only of a demon of lewdness. This was, however, only the hysteria of a moment, not the settled habit of her life. On one notable occasion, by diverting the attention of the bestial pig-god Kama-pua'a, and by vividly presenting to him a temptation well adapted to his gross nature, she succeeded in enticing him away at a critical moment, and thus rescued her sister Pele at a time when the latter's life was imperiled by an unclean and violent assault from the swine-god. Like Catherine of Russia, who in one mood was the patron of literature and of the arts and sciences and in another mood a very satyr, so the Hawaiian goddess Kapo seems to have lived a double life whose aims were at cross purposes with one another-now an angel of grace and beauty, now a demon of darkness and lust. Do we not find in this the counterpart of nature's twofold aspect, who presents herself to dependent humanity at one time as an alma mater, the food-giver, a divinity of joy and comfort, at another time as the demon of the storm and earthquake, a plowshare of fiery destruction? The name of Hiiaka, the sister of Pele, is one often mentioned in the prayers of the hula. [Page 26] IV.--SUPPORT AND ORGANIZATION OF THE HULA In ancient times the hula to a large extent was a creature of royal support, and for good reason. The actors in this institution were not producers of life's necessaries. To the _alii_ belonged the land and the sea and all the useful products thereof. Even the jetsam whale-tooth and wreckage scraps of iron that ocean cast up on the shore were claimed by the lord of the land. Everything was the king's. Thus it followed of necessity that the support of the hula must in the end rest upon the alii. As in ancient Rome it was a senator or general, enriched by the spoil of a province, who promoted the sports of the arena, so in ancient Hawaii it was the chief or headman of the district who took the initiative in the promotion of the people's communistic sports and of the hula. We must not imagine that the hula was a thing only of kings' courts and chiefish residences. It had another and democratic side. The passion for the hula was broadspread. If other agencies failed to meet the demand, there was nothing to prevent a company of enthusiasts from joining themselves together in the pleasures and, it might be, the profits of the hula. Their spokesman--designated as the _po'o-puaa_, from the fact that a pig, or a boar's head, was required of him as an offering at the kuahu--was authorized to secure the services of some expert to be their kumu. But with the hula all roads lead to the king's court. Let us imagine a scene at the king's residence. The alii, rousing from his sloth and rubbing his eyes, rheumy with debauch and _awa_, overhears remark on the doings of a new company of hula dancers who have come into the neighborhood. He summons his chief steward. "What is this new thing of which they babble?" he demands. "It is nothing, son of heaven," answers the kneeling steward. "They spoke of a hula. Tell me, what is it?" "Ah, thou heaven-born (_lani_), it was but a trifle--a new company, young graduates of the halau, have set themselves up as great ones; mere rustics; they have no proper acquaintance with the traditions of the art as taught by the bards of... your majesty's father. They mouth and twist the old songs all awry, thou son of heaven." "Enough. I will hear them to-morrow. Send a messenger for this new kumu. Fill again my bowl with awa." [Page 27] Thus it comes about that the new hula company gains audience at court and walks the road that, perchance, leads to fortune. Success to the men and women of the hula means not merely applause, in return for the incense of flattery; it means also a shower of substantial favors--food, garments, the smile of royalty, perhaps land--things that make life a festival. If welcome grows cold and it becomes evident that the harvest has been reaped, they move on to fresh woods and pastures new. To return from this apparent digression, it was at the king's court--if we may extend the courtesy of this phrase to a group of thatched houses--that were gathered the bards and those skilled in song, those in whose memories were stored the mythologies, traditions, genealogies, proverbial wisdom, and poetry that, warmed by emotion, was the stuff from which was spun the songs of the hula. As fire is produced by friction, so it was often by the congress of wits rather than by the flashing of genius that the songs of the hula were evolved. The composition and criticism of a poetical passage were a matter of high importance, often requiring many suggestions and much consultation. If the poem was to be a _mele-inoa_, a name-song to eulogize some royal or princely scion, it must contain no word of ill-omen. The fate-compelling power of such a word, once shot from the mouth, was beyond recall. Like the incantation of the sorcerer, the _kahuna ánaaná_, it meant death to the eulogized one. If not, it recoiled on the life of the singer. The verbal form once settled, it remained only to stereotype it on the memories of the men and women who constituted the literary court or conclave. Think not that only thus were poems produced in ancient Hawaii. The great majority of songs were probably the fruit of solitary inspiration, in which the bard poured out his heart like a song-bird, or uttered his lone vision as a seer. The method of poem production in conclave may be termed the official method. It was often done at the command of an alii. So much for the fabrication, the weaving, of a song. If the composition was intended as a eulogy, it was cantillated ceremoniously before the one it honored; if in anticipation of a prince yet unborn, it was daily recited before the mother until the hour of her delivery; and this cantillation published it abroad. If the song was for production in the hula, it lay warm in the mind of the kumu, the master and teacher of the hula, until such time as he had organized his company. The court of the alii was a vortex that drew in not only the bards and men of lore, but the gay and fashionable rout of pleasure-seekers, the young men and women of shapely form and gracious presence, the sons and daughters of the king's [Page 28] henchmen and favorites; among them, perhaps, the offspring of the king's morganatic alliances and amours--the flower and pick of Hawaii's youth. From these the kumu selected those most fitted by beauty and grace of form, as well as quickness of wit and liveliness of imagination, to take part in the hula. The performers in the hula were divided into two classes, the _olapa_--agile ones--and the _ho'o-paa_--steadfast ones. The role of olapa, as was fitting, was assigned to the young men and young women who could best illustrate in their persons the grace and beauty of the human form. It was theirs, sometimes while singing, to move and pose and gesture in the dance; sometimes also to punctuate their song and action with the lighter instruments of music. The rôle of ho'o-paa, on the other hand, was given to men and women of greater experience and of more maturity. They handled the heavier instruments and played their parts mostly while sitting or kneeling, marking the time with their instrumentation. They also lent their voices to swell the chorus or utter the refrain of certain songs, sometimes taking the lead in the song or bearing its whole burden, while the light-footed olapa gave themselves entirely to the dance. The part of the ho'o-paa was indeed the heavier, the more exacting duty. Such was the personnel of a hula troupe when first gathered by the hula-master for training and drill in the halau, now become a school for the hula. Among the pupils the kumu was sure to find some old hands at the business, whose presence, like that of veterans in a squad of recruits, was a leaven to inspire the whole company with due respect for the spirit and traditions of the historic institution and to breed in the members the patience necessary to bring them to the highest proficiency. The instruction of the kumu, as we are informed, took a wide range. It dealt in elaborate detail on such matters as accent, inflection, and all that concerns utterance and vocalization. It naturally paid great attention to gesture and pose, attitude and bodily action. That it included comment on the meaning that lay back of the words may be gravely doubted. The average hula dancer of modern times shows great ignorance of the mele he recites, and this is true even of the kumu-hula. His work too often is largely perfunctory, a matter of sound and form, without appeal to the intellect. It would not be legitimate, however, to conclude from this that ignorance of the meaning was the rule in old times; those were the days when the nation's traditional songs, myths, and lore formed the equipment of every alert and receptive mind, chief or commoner. There was no printed page to while away the hours of idleness. The library was stored in one's memory. The language of the mele, which now has [Page 29] become antiquated, then was familiar speech. For a kumu-hula to have given instruction in the meaning of a song would have been a superfluity, as if one at the present day were to inform a group of well-educated actors and actresses who was Pompey or Julius Cæsar. "Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly on the tongue." Hamlet's words to the players were, it may be supposed, the substance of the kumu's instructions to the pupils in his halau. The organization of a hula company was largely democratic. The kumu--in modern sense, the teacher--was the leader and conductor, responsible for the training and discipline of the company. He was the business manager of the enterprise; the priest, _kahuna_, the leader in the religious exercises, the one who interpreted the will of heaven, especially of the gods whose favor determined success. He might be called to his position by the choice of the company, appointed by the command of the alii who promoted the enterprise, or self-elected in case the enterprise was his own. He had under him a _kokua kumu_, a deputy, who took charge during his absence. The _po'o-puaa_ was an officer chosen by the pupils to be their special agent and mouthpiece. He saw to the execution of the kumu's judgments and commands, collected the fines, and exacted the penalties imposed by the kumu. It fell to him to convey to the altar the presents of garlands, awa, and the like that were contributed to the halau. The _paepae_, also chosen by the pupils, subject to confirmation by the kumu, acted as an assistant of the po'o-puaa. During the construction of the kuahu the po'o-puaa stood to the right, the paepae at his left. They were in a general sense guardians of the kuahu. The _ho'o-ulu_ was the guard stationed at the door. He sprinkled with sea-water mixed with turmeric everyone who entered the halau. He also acted as sergeant-at-arms to keep order and remove anyone who made a disturbance. It was his duty each day to place a fresh bowl of awa on the altar of the goddess (_hanai kuahu_), literally to feed the altar. In addition to these officials, a hula company naturally required the services of a miscellaneous retinue of stewards, cooks, fishermen, hewers of wood, and drawers of water. RULES OF CONDUCT AND TABUS Without a body of rules, a strict penal code, and a firm hand to hold in check the hot bloods of both sexes, it would have been impossible to keep order and to accomplish the business purpose of the organization. The explosive force of passion would have made the gathering a signal for the breaking loose of pandemonium. That it did not always so result is a [Page 30] compliment alike to the self-restraint of the people and to the sway that artistic ideals held over their minds, but, above all, to a peculiar system of discipline wisely adapted to the necessities of human nature. It does not seem likely that a Thespian band of our own race would have held their passions under equal check if surrounded by the same temptations and given the same opportunities as these Polynesians. It may well be doubted if the bare authority of the kumu would have sufficed to maintain discipline and to keep order, had it not been reenforced by the dread powers of the spirit world in the shape of the _tabu_. The awful grasp of this law; this repressive force, the tabu, held fast the student from the moment of his entrance into the halau. It denied this pleasure, shut off that innocent indulgence, curtailed liberty in this direction and in that. The tabu waved before his imagination like a flaming sword, barring approach to the Eden of his strongest propensity. The rules and discipline of the halau, the school for the hula, from our point of view, were a mixture of shrewd common sense and whimsical superstition. Under the head of tabus certain articles of food were denied; for instance, the sugar-cane--_ko_--was forbidden. The reason assigned was that if one indulged in it his work as a practitioner would amount to nothing; in the language of the kumu, _aohe e leo ana kana mau hana_, his work will be a failure. The argument turned on the double meaning of the word _ko_, the first meaning being sugar cane, the second, accomplishment. The Hawaiians were much impressed by such whimsical nominalisms. Yet there is a backing of good sense to the rule. Anyone who has chewed the sweet stalk can testify that for some time thereafter his voice is rough, ill-fitted for singing or elocution. The strictest propriety and decorum were exacted of the pupils; there must be no license whatever. Even married people during the weeks preceding graduation must observe abstinence toward their partners. The whole power of one's being must be devoted to the pursuit of art. The rules demanded also the most punctilious personal cleanliness. Above all things, one must avoid contact with a corpse. Such defilement barred one from entrance to the halau until ceremonial cleansing had been performed. The offender must bathe in the ocean; the kumu then aspersed him with holy water, uttered a prayer, ordered a penalty, an offering to the kuahu, and declared the offender clean. This done, he was again received into fellowship at the halau. The ordinary penalty for a breach of ceremony or an offense against sexual morality was the offering of a baked porkling with awa. Since the introduction of money the penalty has generally been reckoned on a commercial basis; a money fine is imposed. The offering of pork and awa is retained as a concession to tradition. [Page 31] V--CEREMONIES OF GRADUATION; DÉBUT OF A HULA DANCER CEREMONIES OF GRADUATION The _ai-lolo_ rite and ceremony marked the consummation of a pupil's readiness for graduation from the school of the halau and his formal entrance into the guild of hula dancers. As the time drew near, the kumu tightened the reins of discipline, and for a few days before that event no pupil might leave the halau save for the most stringent necessity, and then only with the head muffled (_pulo'u_) to avoid recognition, and he might engage in no conversation whatever outside the halau. The night preceding the day of ai-lolo was devoted to special services of dance and song. Some time after midnight the whole company went forth to plunge into the ocean, thus to purge themselves of any lurking ceremonial impurity. The progress to the ocean and the return they made in complete nudity. "Nakedness is the garb of the gods." On their way to and from the bath they must not look back, they must not turn to the right hand or to the left. The kumu, as the priest, remained at the halau, and as the procession returned from the ocean he met it at the door and sprinkled each one (_pikai_) with holy water. Then came another period of dance and song; and then, having cantillated a _pule hoonoa_, to lift the tabu, the kumu went forth to his own ceremonial cleansing bath in the sea. During his absence his deputy, the _kokua kumu_, took charge of the halau. When the kumu reached the door on his return, he made himself known by reciting a _mele wehe puka_, the conventional password. Still another exercise of song and dance, and the wearied pupils are glad to seek repose. Some will not even remove the short dancing, skirts that are girded about them, so eager are they to snatch an hour of rest; and some lie down with bracelets and anklets yet unclasped. At daybreak the kumu rouses the company with the tap of the drum. After ablutions, before partaking of their simple breakfast, the company stand before the altar and recite a tabu-removing prayer, accompanying the cantillation with a rhythmic tapping of feet and clapping of hands: _Pule Hoonoa_ Pupu we'uwe'u e, Laka e! O kona we'uwe'u ke ku nei. [Page 32] Kaumaha a'e la ia Laka. O Laka ke akua pule ikaika. 5 Ua ku ka maile a Laka a imua; Ua lu ka liua[32] o ka maile. Noa, noa ia'u, ia Kahaula-- Papalua noa. Noa, a ua noa. 10 Eli-eli kapu! eli-eli noa! Kapu oukou, ke akua! Noa makou, ke kanaka'. [Translation] _Tabu-lifting Prayer_ Oh wildwood bouquet, oh Laka! Hers are the growths that stand here. Suppliants we to Laka. The prayer to Laka has power; 5 The maile of Laka stands to the fore. The maile vine casts now its seeds. Freedom, there's freedom to me, Kahaula-- A freedom twofold. 10 Freedom, aye freedom! A tabu profound, a freedom complete. Ye gods are still tabu; We mortals are free. [Footnote 32: _Lu ka hua_. Casts now its seeds. The maile vine (pl. IV), one of the goddess's emblems, casts its seeds, meaning that the goddess gives the pupils skill and inspires them.] At the much-needed repast to which the company now sit down there may be present a gathering of friends and relatives and of hula experts, called _olóhe_. Soon the porkling chosen to be the _ai-lólo_ offering is brought in--a black suckling without spot or blemish. The kumu holds it down while all the pupils gather and lay their hands upon his hands; and he expounds to them the significance of the ceremony. If they consecrate themselves to the work in hand in sincerity and with true hearts, memory will be strong and the training, the knowledge, and the songs that have been intrusted to the memory will stay. If they are heedless, regardless of their vows, the songs they have learned will fly away. The ceremony is long and impressive; many songs are used. Sometimes, it was claimed, the prayers of the kumu at this laying on of hands availed to cause the death of the little animal. On the completion of the ceremony the offering is taken out and made ready for the oven. One of the first duties of the day is the dismantling of the old kuahu, the shrine, and the construction of another from new materials as a residence for the goddess. While night yet shadows the earth the attendants and friends of the pupils [Page 33] have gone up into the mountains to collect the material for the new shrine. The rustic artists, while engaged in this loving work of building and weaving the new kuahu, cheer and inspire one another with joyful songs vociferous with the praise of Laka. The halau also they decorate afresh, strewing the floor with clean rushes, until the whole place enthralls the senses like a bright and fragrant temple. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE IV MAILE (ALYXIA MYRTILLIFOLIA) WREATH] The kumu now grants special dispensation to the pupils to go forth that they may make good the results of the neglect of the person incident to long confinement in the halau. For days, for weeks, perhaps for months, they have not had full opportunity to trim hair, nails, or beard, to anoint and groom themselves. They use this short absence from the hall also to supply themselves with wreaths of fragrant maile, crocus-yellow ilima, scarlet-flaming Jehua, fern, and what not. At the appointed hour the pupils, wreathed and attired like nymphs and dryads, assemble in the halau, sweet with woodsy perfumes. At the door they receive aspersion with consecrated water. The ai-lolo offering, cooked to a turn--no part raw, no part cracked or scorched--is brought in from the _imu_, its bearer sprinkled by the guard at the entrance. The kumu, having inspected the roast offering and having declared it ceremonially perfect, gives the signal, and the company break forth in songs of joy and of adulation to goddess Laka: _Mele Kuau_ Noho ana Laka I ka ulu wehi-wehi, Ku ana iluna I Mo'o-helaia,[33] Ohia-Ku[34] ouna o Mauna-loa.[35] Aloha mai Kaulana-ula[36] ia'u. 5 Eia ka ula la, he ula leo,[37] He uku, he modai, he kanaenae, He alana na'u ia oe. E Laka e, e maliu mai; E maliu mai oe, i pono au, 10 A pono au, a pono kaua. [Footnote 33: _Mo'o-helaia_. A female deity, a _kupua_, who at death became one of the divinities, _au-makua_, of the hula. Her name was conferred on the place claimed as her residence, on Mauna-loa, island of Molokai.] [Footnote 34: _Ohia-Ku_. Full name _ohia-ku-makua_; a variety of the ohìa, or lehua (pl. XIII), whose wood was used in making temple gods. A rough stem of this tree stood on each side near the _hala-pepe_. (See pl. III, also pp. 19-20.)] [Footnote 35: _Mauna-loa_. Said to be the mountain of that name on Molokai, not that on Hawaii.] [Footnote 36: _Kaulana-ula_. Full form _Kaulana-a-ula_; the name of a deity belonging to the order, _papa_, of the hula. Its meaning is explained in the expression _ula leo_, in the next line.] [Footnote 37: _Ula leo_. A singing or trilling sound, a _tinnitus aurium_, a sign that the deity Kaulanaula was making some communication to the one who heard it. "By the pricking of my thumbs Something wicked this way comes."] [Page 34] [Translation] _Altar-Prayer_ Laka sits in her shady grove, Stands on her terrace, at Mo'o-helaia; Like the tree of God Ku on Mauna-loa. Kaulana-ula trills in my ear; 5 A whispered suggestion to me, Lo, an offering, a payment, A eulogy give I to thee. O Laka, incline to me! Have compassion, let it be well-- 10 Well with me, well with us both. There is no stint of prayer-song. While the offering rests on the Imahu, the Joyful service continues: _Mele Kualiu_ E Laka, e! Pupu we'uwe'u e, Laka e! E Laka i ka leo; E laka i ka loaa; 5 E Laka i ka waiwai; E Laka i na mea a pau! [Translation] _Altar-Prayer_ O goddess Laka! O wildwood bouquet, O Laka! O Laka, queen of the voice! O Laka, giver of gifts! 5 O Laka, giver of bounty! O Laka, giver of all things! At the conclusion of this loving service of worship and song each member of the troupe removes from his head and neck the wreaths that had bedecked him, and with them crowns the image of the goddess until her altar is heaped with the offerings. Now comes the pith of the ceremony: the novitiates sit down to the feast of ai-lolo, theirs the place of honor, at the head of the table, next the kuahiu. The _ho'o-pa'a_, acting as carver, selects the typical parts--snout, ear-tips, tail, feet, portions of the vital organs, especially the brain (_lolo_). This last it is which gives name to the ceremony. He sets an equal portion before each novitiate. Each one must eat all that is set before him. It is a mystical rite, a sacrament; as he eats he consciously partakes of the virtue of the goddess that is transmitted to himself. [Page 35] Meantime the _olohe_ and friends of the novitiates, inspired with the proper enthusiasm, of the occasion, lift their voices in joyful cantillations in honor of the goddess, accompanied with the clapping of hands. The ceremony now reaches a new stage. The kumu lifts the tabu by uttering a prayer--always a song--and declares the place and the feast free, and the whole assembly sit down to enjoy the bounty that is spread up and down the halau. On this occasion men and women may eat in common. The only articles excluded from this feast are _luau_--a food much like spinach, made by cooking the young and delicate taro leaf---and the drupe of the _hala_, the pandanus (pl. xviii). The company sit down to eat and to drink; presently they rise to dance and sing. The kumu leads in a tabu-lifting, freedom-giving song and the ceremony of ai-lolo is over. The pupils have been graduated from the school of the halau; they are now members of the great guild of hula dancers. The time has come for them to make their bow to the waiting public outside, to bid for the favor of the world. This is to be their "little go;" they will spread their wings for a greater flight on the morrow. The kumu with his big drum, and the musicians, the ho'o-pa'a, pass through the door and take their places outside in the lanai, where sit the waiting multitude. At the tap of the drum the group of waiting olapa plume themselves like fine birds eager to show their feathers; and, as they pass out the halau door and present themselves to the breathless audience, into every pose and motion of their gliding, swaying figures they pour a full tide of emotion in studied and unstudied effort to captivate the public. DÉBUT OF A HULA DANCER The occasion is that of a lifetime; it is their _uniki_, their debut. The song chosen must rise to the dignity of the occasion. Let us listen to the song that enthralls the audience seated in the rushstrown lanai, that we may judge of its worthiness. _He Mele-Inoa (no Naihe)_[38] Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona, Ka malo a ka mahiehie,[39] Ka onaulu-loa,[40] a lele ka'u malo. [Page 36] O kakai[41] malo hoaka,[42] 5 O ka malo kai,[43] malo o ke alii E ku, e hume a paa i ka malo. E ka'ika'i [44] ka la i ka papa o Halepó;[45] A pae o Halepó i ka nalu. Ho-e'e i ka nalu mai Kahiki;[46] 10 He nalu Wakea,[47] nalu ho'ohua.[48] Haki opu'u [49] ka nalu, haki kua-pa.[50] Ea mai ka makakai [51] he'e-nalu, Kai he'e kakala [52] o ka moku, Kai-ká o ka nalu nui, 15 Ka hu'a o ka nalu o Hiki-au.[53] Kai he'e-nalu i ke awakea. Ku ka puna, ke ko'a i-nka. Ka makahá o ka nalu o Kuhihewa.[54] Ua o ia,[55] nohá ka papa! 20 Noná Maui, nauweuwe, Nauweuwe, nakelekele. Nakele ka ili o ka i he'e-kai. Lalilali ole ka ili o ke akamai; Kahilihili ke kai a ka he'e-nalu. 25 Ike'a ka nalu nui o Puna, o Hilo. [Footnote 38: Naihe. A man of strong character, but not a high chief. He was horn in Kona and resided at Napoopoo. His mother was Ululani, his father Keawe-a-heulu, who was a celebrated general and strategist under Kamehameha I.] [Footnote 39: Mahiehie. A term conferring dignity and distinction.] [Footnote 40: Onaulu-loa. A roller of great length and endurance, one that reaches the shore, in contrast to a Kalcala.] [Footnote 41: _Kalai._ An archaic word meaning forty.] [Footnote 42: _Hooka._ A crescent; the name of the second day of the month. The allusion is to the curve (downward) of a large number (kakai) of malo when hung on a line, the usual way of keeping such articles.] [Footnote 43: _Malo kai._ The ocean is sometimes poetically termed the _malo_ or _pa-á_ of the naked swimmer, or bather. It covers his nakedness.] [Footnote 44: _Ka'ika'i._ To lead or to carry; a tropical use of the word. The sun is described as leading the board.] [Footnote 45: _Hale-pó._ In the opinion of the author it is the name of the board. A skilled Hawaiian says it is the name given the surf of a place at Napoopoo, in Kona, Hawaii. The action is not located there, but in Puna, it seems to the author.] [Footnote 46: _Kahiki._ Tahiti, or any foreign country; a term of grandiloquence.] [Footnote 47: _Wakea._ A mythical name, coming early in Hawaiian genealogies; here used in exaggeration to show the age of the roller.] [Footnote 48: _Ho'ohua._ Applied to a roller, one that rolls on and swells higher.] [Footnote 49: _Opu'u._ Said of a roller that completes its run to shore.] [Footnote 50: _Kua-pá._ Said of a roller as above that dies at the shore.] [Footnote 51: _Maka-kai._ The springing-up of the surf after an interval of quiet.] [Footnote 52: _Kakála._ Rough, heaped up, one wave overriding another, a chop sea.] [Footnote 53: _Hiki-au._ Said to be the name of a temple.] [Footnote 54: _Kuhihewa._ Full name _Ka-kuhi-hewa_, a distinguished king of Oahu.] [Footnote 55: _O iu._ Meaning that the board dug its nose into the reef or sand.] [Translation] _A Name-Song, a Eulogy_ (for Naihe) The huge roller, roller that surges from Kona, Makes loin-cloth fit for a lord; Far-reaching swell, my malo streams in the wind; Shape the crescent malo to the loins-- 5 The loin-cloth the sea, cloth for king's girding. Stand, gird fast the loin-cloth! [Page 37] Let the sun guide the board Ilalepó, Till Halepó lifts on the swell. It mounts the swell that rolls from Kahiki, 10 From Wakea's age enrolling. The roller plumes and ruffles its crest. Here comes the champion surf-man, While wave-ridden wave beats the island, A fringe of mountain-high waves. 15 Spume lashes the Hiki-an altar--A surf this to ride at noontide. The coral, horned coral, it sweeps far ashore. We gaze at the surf of Ka-kuhi-hewa. The surf-board snags, is shivered; 20 Maui splits with a crash, Trembles, dissolves into slime. Glossy the skua of the surf-man; Undrenched the skin of the expert; 25 Wave-feathers fan the wave-rider. You've seen the grand surf of Puna, of Hilo. This spirited song, while not a full description of a surf-riding scene, gives a vivid picture of that noble sport. The last nine verses have been omitted, as they add neither to the action nor to the interest. It seems surprising that the accident spoken of in line 19 should be mentioned; for it is in glaring opposition to the canons that were usually observed in the composition of a _mele-inoa._ In the construction of a, eulogy the Hawaiians were not only punctiliously careful to avoid mention of anything susceptible of sinister interpretation, but they were superstitiously sensitive to any such unintentional happening. As already mentioned (p. 27), they believed that the fate compelling power of a word of ill-omen was inevitable. If it did not result in the death of the one eulogized, retributive justice turned the evil influence back on him who uttered it. [Page 38] VI.--THE PASSWORD--THE SONG OF ADMISSION There prevailed among the practitioners of the hula from one end of the group to the other a mutual understanding, amounting almost to a sort of freemasonry, which gave to any member of the guild the right of free entrance at all times to the hall, or halau, where a performance was under way. Admission was conditioned, however, on the utterance of a password at the door. A snatch of song, an oli, denominated _mele kahea,_ or _mele wehe puka,_ was chanted, which, on being recognized by those within, was answered in the same language of hyperbole, and the door was opened. The verbal accuracy of any mele kahea that may be adduced is at the present day one of the vexed questions among hula authorities, each hula-master being inclined to maintain that the version given by another is incorrect. This remark applies, though in smaller measure, to the whole body of mele, pule, and oli that makes up the songs and liturgy of the hula as well as to the traditions that guided the maestro, or kumu-hula, in the training of his company. The reasons for these differences of opinion and of test, now that there is to be a written text, are explained by the following facts: The devotees and practitioners of the hula were divided into groups that were separated from one another by wide intervals of sea and land. They belonged quite likely to more than one cult, for indeed there were many gods and _au-makua_ to whom they sacrificed and offered prayers. The passwords adopted by one generation or by the group of practitioners on one island might suffer verbal changes in transmission to a later generation or to a remote island. Again, it should be remembered that the entire body of material forming the repertory of the hula--pule, mele, and oli--was intrusted to the keeping of the memory, without the aid of letters or, so far as known, of any mnemonic device; and the human mind, even under the most athletic discipline, is at best an imperfect conservator of literary form. The result was what might be expected: as the imagination and emotions of the minstrel warmed under the inspiration of his trust, glosses and amendments crept in. These, however, caused but slight variations in the text. The substance remains substantially the same. After carefully weighing the matter, the author can not avoid the conclusion that jealousy had much to do with the slight differences now manifest, that one version is as [Page 39] authoritative as another, and that it would be well for each kumu-hula to have kept in mind the wise adage that shines among the sayings of his nation: _Aohe pau ka ike i kau halau _[56]--" Think not that all of wisdom resides in your halau."[57] [Footnote 56: Sophocles (Antigone, 705) had said the same thing:[Greek: me nun en ethos pounon en sautô phorei ôs phes su, kouden allo, tout' orphôs echein]--"Don't get this idea fixed in your head, that what you say, and nothing else, is right."] [Footnote 57: _Hatoa._ As previously explained, in this connection _halau_ has a meaning similar to our word "school," or "academy," a place where some art was taught, as wrestling, boxing, or the hula.] _Mele Kahea_ Li'u-li'u aloha ia'u, Ka uka o Koholá-lele, Ka nahele mauka o Ka-papala [58] la. Komo, e komo aku hoi an maloko. 5 Mai ho'ohewahewa mai oe ia'u; oau no ia, Ke ka-nae-nae a ka mea hele, He leo, e-e, A he leo wale no, e-e! Eia ka pu'u nui owaho nei la, 10 He ua, lie ino, he anu, he ko'e-ko'e. E ku'u aloha, e, Maloko aku au. [Translation.] _Password_ Long, long have I tarried with love In the uplands of Koholá-lele, The wildwood above Ka-papala. To enter, permit me to enter, I pray; 5 Refuse me not recognition; I am he, A traveler offering mead of praise, Just a voice, Only a human voice. Oh, what I suffer out here, 10 Rain, storm, cold, and wet. O sweetheart of mine, Let me come in to you. [Footnote 58: _Ka-popala._ A verdant region on the southeastern flank of Mauua-Loa.] Hear now the answer chanted by voices from within: _Mele Komo_ Aloha na hale o makou i maka-maka ole, Ke alanui hele mauka o Pu'u-kahea la, e-e! Ka-he-a! E Kahea aku ka pono e komo mai oe iloko nei. Eia ka pu'u nui o waho nei, he anu. [Page 40] [Translation] _Song of Welcome_ What love to our cottage-homes, now vacant, As one climbs the mount of Entreaty! We call, We voice the welcome, invite you to enter. The hill of Affliction out there is the cold. Another fragment that was sometimes used as a password is the following bit of song taken from the story of Hiiaka, sister of Pele. She is journeying with the beautiful Hopoe to feteh prince Lohiau to the court of Pele. They have come by a steep and narrow path to the brink of the Wai-lua river, Kauai, at this point spanned by a single plank. But the bridge is gone, removed by an ill-tempered naiad (witch) said to have come from Kahiki, whose name, Wai-lua, is the same as that of the stream. Hiiaka calls out, demanding that the plank be restored to its place. Wai-lua does not recognize the deity in Hiiaka and, sullen, makes no response. At this the goddess puts forth her strength, and Wai-lua, stripped of her power and reduced to her true station, that of a _mo'o,_ a reptile, seeks refuge in the caverns beneath the river. Hiiaka betters the condition of the crossing by sowing it with stepping stones. The stones remain in evidence to this day. _Mele Kahea_ Kunihi ka mauna i ka la'i e, O Wai-ale-ale[59] la i Wai-lua, Huki a'e la i ka lani Ka papa au-wai o ka Wai-kini; 5 Alai ia a'e la e Nou-nou, Nalo ka Ipu-ha'a, Ka laula mauka o Kapa'a, e! Mai pa'a i ka leo! He ole ka hea mai, e! [Translation] Password--Song Steep stands the mountain in calm, Profile of Wai-ale-ale at Wai-lua. Gone the stream-spanning plank of Wai-kini, Filched away by Nou-nou; 5 Shut off the view of the hill Ipu-ha'a, And the upland expanse of Ka-pa'a. Give voice and make answer. Dead silence--no voice in reply. In later, in historic times, this visitor, whom we have kept long waiting at the door, might have voiced his appeal in the passionate words of this comparatively modern song: [Footnote 59: _Wai-ale-ale_ (Leaping-water). The central mountain-mass of Kauai.] [Page 41] _Mele Kahea_[60] Ka uka holo-kia ahi-manu o La'a,[61] I po-ele i ka uahi, noe ka nahele, Nohe-nohea i ka makani luhau-pua. He pua oni ke kanaka-- 5 He mea laha ole la oe. Mai kaua e hea nei; E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko, B hanai ai a hewa[62] ka wa'ha. Eia no ka uku la, o ka wa'a.[63] Translation] _Password--Song_ In the uplands, the darting flame-bird of La'a, While smoke and mist blur the woodland, Is keen for the breath of frost-bitten flowers. A fickle flower is man-- 5 A trick this not native to you. Come thou with her who is calling to thee; A call to the man to come in And eat till the mouth is awry. Lo, this the reward--the canoe. [Footnote 60: This utterance of passion is said to have been, the composition of the Princess-Kamamalu, as an address to Prince William Lunalilo, to whom she was at one time affianced and would have married, but that King Lihohho (Kamehameha IV) would not allow the marriage. Thereby hangs a tragedy.] [Footnote 61: _La'a_. The region in Hawaii now known as Ola'a was originally called La'a. The particle _o_ has become fused with the word.] [Footnote 62: _Hewa ka waha_. This expression, here tortured, into "(till) the mouth awry," is difficult of translation. A skilled Hawaiian scholar suggests, it may mean to change one from, an enemy to a friend by stopping his mouth with food.] [Footnote 63: _Wa'a_. Literally a canoe. This is a euphemism for the human body, a gift often too freely granted. It will be noted that in the answering mele komo, the song of admission, the reward promised is more modestly measured--"Simply the voice."] The answer to this appeal for admission was in these words: _Mele Komo_ E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko, E hanai ai a hewa waha; Eia no ka uku la, o ka leo, A he leo wale no, e! [Translation] Welcoming-Song Call to the man to come in, And eat till the mouth is estopt; And this the reward, the voice, Simply the voice. The cantillation of the _mele komo_: in answer to the visitor's petition, meant not only the opening to him of the halau door, but also his welcome to the life of the halau as a heart-guest of honor, trebly welcome as the bringer of fresh tidings from the outside world. [Page 42] VII.--WORSHIP AT THE ALTAR OF THE HALAU The first duty of a visitor on being admitted to the halau while the tabu was on--that is, during the conduct of a regular hula--was to do reverence at the kuahu. The obligations of religion took precedence of all social etiquette. He reverently approaches the altar, to which all eyes are turned, and with outstretched hands pours out a supplication that breathes the aroma of ancient prayer: _Pule Kuahu_ (no Laka) O Laka oe, O ke akua i ke a'a-lii[64] nui. E Laka mai uka! E Laka mai kai! 5 O hoo-ulu[65] o Lono, O ka ilio nana e haehae ke aha, O ka ie-le ku i ka wao, O ka maile hihi i ka nahele, O ka lau ki-ele[66] ula o ke akua, 10 O na ku'i[67] o Hauoli, O Ha'i-ka-malama,[68] Wahine o Kina'u.[69] Kapo ula[70] o Kina'u. O Laka oe, 15 O ke akua i ke kuahu nei la, e! E ho'i, e ho'i a nolao i kou kuahu. Hoo-ulu ia! [Footnote 64: _A'a-lii_. A deep-rooted tree, sacred to Laka or to Kapo.] [Footnote 65: Hoo-ulu. Literally to make grow; secondarily, to inspire, to prosper, to bring good luck. This is the meaning most in mind in modern times, since the hula has become a commercial venture.] [Footnote 66: _Ki-ele_. A flowering plant native to the Hawaiian woods, also cultivated, sacred to Laka, and perhaps to Kapo. The leaves are said to be pointed and curved like the beak of the bird _i-iwi_, and the flower has the gorgeous yellow-red color of that bird.] [Footnote 67: It has been proposed to amend this verse by substituting _akua_, for _ku'i_, thus making the idea the gods of the hula.] [Footnote 68: _Haí-ka-malama_. An epithet applied to Laka.] [Footnote 69: _Kina'u_. Said to mean Hiiaka, the sister of Pele.] [Footnote 70: _Kapo ula_. Red, _ula_, was the favorite color of Kapo. The _kahuna anaana_, high priests of sorcery, of the black art, and of murder, to whom Kapo was at times procuress, made themselves known as such by the display of a red flag and the wearing of a red malo.] [Translation] _Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka) Thou art Laka, God of the deep-rooted a'a-lii. O Laka from the mountains, O Laka from the ocean! [Page 43] 5 Let Lono bless the service, Shutting the mouth of the dog, That breaks the charm with his barking. Bring the i-e that grows in the wilds, The maile that twines in the thicket, 10 Red-beaked kiele, leaf of the goddess, The joyous pulse of the dance In honor of Ha'i-ka-malama, Friend of Kina'u, Red-robed friend of Kina'u. 15 Thou art Laka, God of this altar here. Return, return and reside at your altar! Bring it good luck! A single prayer may not suffice as the offering at Laka's altar. His repertory is full; the visitor begins anew, this time on a different tack: _Pule Kuahu_ (no Laka) Eia ke kuko, ka li'a; I ka manawa he hiamoe ko'u, Hoala ana oe, O oe o Halau-lani, 5 O Hoa-lani, O Puoho-lani, Me he manu e hea ana i ka maha lehua Ku moho kiekie la i-uka. I-uka ho'i au me Laka 10 A Lea,[71] a Wahie-loa,[72], i ka nahelehele; He hoa kaana ia no'u, No kela kuahiwi, kualono hoi. E Laka, e Laka, e! B maliu mai! 15 A maliu mai oe pono au, A a'e mai oe pono au! [Translation] _Altar-Prayer_ (to Laka) This my wish, my burning desire, That in the season of slumber Thy spirit my soul may inspire, Altar-dweller, 5 Heaven-guest, Soul-awakener, Bird from covert calling, Where forest champions stand. There roamed I too with Laka, [Page 44] 10 Of Lea and Loa a wilderness-child; On ridge, in forest boon companion she To the heart that throbbed in me. O Laka, O Laka, Hark to my call! 15 You approach, it is well; You possess me, I am blest! [Footnote 71: _Lea_. The same as Laia, or probably Haumea.] [Footnote 72: _Wahie loa_. This must be a mistake. Laka the son of Wahie-loa was a great voyager. His canoe (_kau-méli-éli_) was built for him by the gods. In it he sailed to the South to rescue his father's bones from the witch who had murdered him. This Laka had his home at Kipahulu, Maui, and is not to be confounded with Laka, goddess of the hula.] In the translation of this pule the author has found it necessary to depart from the verse arrangement that obtains in the Hawaiian text. The religious services of the halau, though inspired by one motive, were not tied to a single ritual or to one set of prayers. Prayer marked the beginning and the ending of every play--that is, of every dance--and of every important event in the programme of the halau; but there were many prayers from which the priest might select. After the prayer specially addressed to Laka the visitor might use a petition of more general scope. Such is 'the one now to be given: He Pule Kuahu (ia Kane ame Kapo); _a he Pule Hoolei_ Kane, hikii a'e, he malâma [73] la luna; Ha'aha'a, he maláma ia lalo; Oni-oni,[74] he málama ia ka'u; He wahine [75] lei, málama ia Kapo; 5 E Kapo nui, hala-hala [76] a i'a; E Kapo nui, hala-hala [77] a mea, Ka alihl [78] luna, ka alihi lalo; E ka poha-kú.[79] Noho ana Kapo i ka ulu wehi-wehi; 10 Ku ana i Moo-helaia,[80] Ka ohi'a-Ku iluna o Mauna-loa. Aloha mai Kaulana-a-ula [81] ia'u; Eia ka ula la, he ula leo,[82] He uku, he mohai, he alana, [Page 45] 15 He kanaenae na'u ia oe, e Kapo ku-lani. E moe hauna-ike, e hea au, e o mai oe. Ata la na Iehua o Kaana,[83] Ke kui ia mai la e na wahlne a lawa I lei no Kapo-- 20 O Kapo, alii nui no ia moku, Ki'e-ki'e, ha'a-ha'a; Ka la o ka ike e ike aku ai: He ike kumu, he ike lono; He ike pu-awa [84] hiwa, 25 He ike a ke Akua, e! E Kapo, ho'i! E ho'i a noho i kou kuahu. Ho'ulu ia! Eia ka wai,[85] la, 30 He wai e ola. E ola nou, e! [Footnote 73: _ Malâma_. Accented on the penult, as here, the word means to enlighten or a light (same in second verse). In the third and fourth verses the accent is changed to the first syllable, and the word here means to preserve, to foster. These words furnish an example of poetical word-repetition.] [Footnote 74: _Onioni._ To squirm, to dodge, to move. The meaning here seems to be to move with delight.] [Footnote 75: _Waliine lei._ A reference to _Laka,_ the child of Kapo, who was symbolized by a block of wood on the altar. (See p. 23.)] [Footnote 76: _Hala-hala a i'a._ Said to be a certain kind of fish that was ornamented about its tailend with a band of bright color; therefore an object of admiration and desire.] [Footnote 77: _Hala-Hala a mea._ The ending _mea_ is perhaps taken from the last half of the proper name _Hau-mea_ who was Kapo's mother. It belongs to the land, in contrast to the sea, and seems to be intended to intensify and extend the meaning of the term previously used. The passage is difficult. Expert Hawaiians profess their inability to fathom its meaning.] [Footnote 78: _Alihi luna._ The line or "stretching cord," that runs the length of a net at its top, the _a lalo_ being the corresponding line at the bottom of the net. The exact significance of this language complimentary to Kapo can not be phrased compactly.] [Footnote 79: _Poha-kú._ The line that runs up and down at the end of a long net, by which it may be anchored.] [Footnote 80: _Moo-helaia._ See note a, p. 33.] [Footnote 81: _Kaulana-a-ula._ See note d, p, 33.] [Footnote 82: _Ula leo._ See note e, p. 33.] [Footnote 83: _Kaana._ A place on Mauna-loa, Molokai, where the lehua greatly flourished. The body of Kapo, it is said, now lies there in appearance a rock. The same claim is made for a rock at Wailua, Hana, Maui.] [Footnote 84: _Pu-awa hiwa (hiwa,_ black). A kind of strong awa. The gentle exhilaration, as well as the deep sleep, of awa were benefits ascribed to the gods. Awa was an essential to most complete sacrifices.] [Footnote 85: _Wai._ Literally water, refers to the bowl of awa, replenished each day, which set on the altar of the goddess.] [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE V TI (DRACAENA TERMINALIS)] Verses 9 to 15, inclusive, are almost identical in form with the first seven verses in the Mele Kuahu addressed to Laka, given on page 33. [Translation] An _Altar-Prayer_ (to Kane and Kapo): _also a Garland-Prayer, used while decorating the altar_ Now, Kane, approach, illumine the altar; Stoop, and enlighten mortals below; Rejoice in the gifts I have brought. Wreathed goddess fostered by Kapo-- 5 Hail Kapo, of beauty resplendent! Great Kapo, of sea and land, The topmost stay of the net, Its lower stay and anchoring line. Kapo sits in her darksome covert; 10 On the terrace, at Mo'o-he-laia, Stands the god-tree of Ku, on Mauna-loa. God Kaulana-ula twigs now mine ear, His whispered suggestion to me is This payment, sacrifice, offering, 15 Tribute of praise to thee, O Kapo divine. Inspiring spirit in sleep, answer my call. Behold, of Iehua bloom of Kaana The women are stringing enough To enwreath goddess Kapo; 20 Kapo, great queen of that island, Of the high and the low. The day of revealing shall see what it sees: [Page 46] A seeing of facts, a sifting of rumors, An insight won by the black sacred awa, 25 A vision like that of a god! O Kapo, return! Return, and abide in your altar! Make it fruitful! Lo, here is the water, 30 The water of life! Hail, now, to thee! The little god-folk, whom the ancients called Kini Akua--myriads of gods--and who made the wildwoods and wilderness their playground, must also be placated. They were a lawless set of imps; the elfins, brownies, and kobolds of our fairy world were not "up to them" in wanton deviltry. If there is to be any luck in the house, it can only be when they are dissuaded from outbreaking mischief. The pule next given is a polite invitation to these little brown men of the woods to honor the occasion with their presence and to bring good luck at their coming. It is such a prayer as the visitor might choose to repeat at this time, or it might be used on other occasions, as at the consecration of the kuahu: _He Pule Kuahu_ (no Kini Akua) E ulu, e ulu, Kini o ke Akua! Ulu Kane me Kanaloa! Ulu Ohi'a-lau-koa, me ka Ie-ie! A'e mai a noho i kou kuahu! 5 Eia ka wai la, he wai e ola. E ola no, e-e! [Translation] _An Altar-Prayer_ (to the Kini Akua) Gather, oh gather, ye hosts of godlings! Come Kane with Kanaloa! Come leafy Ohi'a and I-e! Possess me and dwell in your altar! 5 Here's water, water of life! Life, give us life! The visitor, having satisfied his sense of what the occasion demands, changes his tone from that of cantillation to ordinary speech, and concludes his worship with a petition conceived in the spirit of the following prayer: E ola ia'u, i ka malihini; a pela hoi na kamaaina, ke kumu, na haumana, ia oe, e Laka. E Laka ia Pohaku i ka wawae. E Laka i ke kupe'e. E Laka ia Luukia i ka pa-u; e Laka i ke kuhi; e Laka i ka leo; e Laka i ka lei. E Laka i ke ku ana imua o ke anaina. [Page 47] [Translation] Thy blessing, O Laka, on me the stranger, and on the residents, teacher and pupils. O Laka, give grace to the feet of Pohaku; and to her bracelets and anklets; comeliness to the figure and skirt of Luukia. To (each one) give gesture and voice. O Laka, make beautiful the lei; inspire the dancers when they stand before the assembly. At the close of this service of song and prayer the visitor will turn from the kuahu and exchange salutations and greetings with his friends in the halau. The song-prayer "Now, Kane, approach, illumine the altar" (p. 45) calls for remark. It brings up again the question, previously discussed, whether there were not two distinct cults of worshipers, the one devoted to Laka, the other to Kapo. The following facts will throw light on the question. On either side of the approach to the altar stood, sentinel-like, a tall stem of hala-pepe, a graceful, slender column, its head of green sword-leaves and scarlet drupes making a beautiful picture. (See p. 24.) These are said to have been the special emblems of the goddess Kapo. The following account of a conversation the author had with an old woman, whose youthful days were spent as a hula dancer, will also help to disentangle the subject and explain the relation of Kapo to the hula: "Will you not recite again the prayer you just now uttered, and slowly, that it may be written down?" the author asked of her. "Many prayers for the kuahu have been collected, but this one differs from them all." "We Hawaiians," she answered, "have been taught that these matters are sacred (_kapu_) and must not be bandied about from mouth to mouth." "Aye, but the time of the tabus has passed. Then, too, in a sense having been initiated into hula matters, there can be no impropriety in my dealing with them in a kindly spirit." "No harm, of course, will come to you, a _haole_ (foreigner). The question is how it will affect us." "Tell me, were there two different classes of worshipers, one class devoted to the worship of Laka and another class devoted to the worship of Kapo?" "No," she answered, "Kapo and Laka were one in spirit, though their names were two." "Haumea was the mother of Kapo. Who was her father?" "Yes, Haumea was the mother, and Kua-ha-ilo [86] was the father:" "How about Laka?" [Footnote 86: _Kua-ha-ilo._ A god of the _kahuna anaana;_ meaning literally to breed maggots in the back.] [Page 48] "Laka was the daughter of Kapo. Yet as a patron, of the hula Laka stands first; she was worshiped at an earlier date than Kapo; but they are really one." Further questioning brought out the explanation that Laka was not begotten in ordinary generation; she was a sort of emanation from Kapo. It was as if the goddess should sneeze and a deity should issue with the breath from her nostrils; or should wink, and thereby beget spiritual offspring from the eye, or as if a spirit should issue forth at some movement of the ear or mouth. When the old woman's; scruples had been laid to rest, she repeated slowly for the author's benefit the pule given on pages 45 and 46, "Now, Kane, approach," ... of which the first eight lines and much of the last part, to him, were new. [Page 49] VIII.--COSTUME OF THE HULA DANCER The costume of the hula dancer was much the same for both sexes, its chief article a simple short skirt about the waist, the pa-ú. (PL I.) When the time has come for a dance, the halau becomes one common dressing room. At a signal from the kumu the work begins. The putting on of each article of costume is accompanied by a special song. First come the _ku-pe'e_, anklets of whale teeth, bone, shell-work, dog-teeth, fiber-stuffs, and what not. While all stoop in unison they chant the song of the anklet: _Mele Ku-pe'e_ Aala kupukupu[87] ka uka o Kane-hoa.[88] E ho-a![89] Hoa na lima o ka makani, he Wai-kaloa.[90] He Wai-kaloa ka makani anu Lihue. 5 Alina[91] lehua ï kau ka opua-- Ku'u pua, Ku'u pua i'ini e ku-i a lei. Ina ia oe ke lei 'a mai la. [Translation] _Anklet-Song_ Fragrant the grasses of high. Kane-hoa. Bind on the anklets, bind! Bind with finger deft as the wind That cools the air of this bower. 5 Lehua bloom pales at my flower, O sweetheart of mine, Bud that I'd pluck and wear in my wreath, If thou wert but a flower! [Footnote 87: _Kupukupu_. Said to be a fragrant grass.] [Footnote 88: _Kane-hoa_. Said to be a hill at Kaupo, Maul. Another person says it is a hill at Lihue, on Oahu. The same name is often repeated.] [Footnote 89: _Ho-a_. To bind. An instance of word-repetition, common in Hawaiian poetry.] [Footnote 90: _Wai-kaloa_. A cool wind that Wows at Lihue, Kauai] [Footnote 91: _Alina_. A scar, or other mark of disfigurement, a moral blemish. In ancient times lovers inflicted injuries on themselves to prove devotion.] The short skirt, _pa-u_, was the most important piece of attire worn by the Hawaiian female. As an article of daily wear it represented many stages of evolution beyond the primitive fig-leaf, being fabricated from a great variety of [Page 50] materials furnished by the garden of nature. In its simplest terms the pa-ú was a mere fringe of vegetable fibers. When placed as the shield of modesty about the loins of a woman of rank, or when used as the full-dress costume of a dancing girl on a ceremonious occasion, it took on more elaborate forms, and was frequently of _tapa_, a fabric the finest specimens of which would not have shamed the wardrobe of an empress. In the costuming of the hula girl the same variety obtained as in the dress of a woman of rank. Sometimes her pa-ú would be only a close-set fringe of ribbons stripped from the bark of the hibiscus (_hau_), the _ti_ leaf or banana fiber, or a fine rush, strung upon a thong to encircle the waist. In its most elaborate and formal style the pa-ú consisted of a strip of fine tapa several yards long and of width to reach nearly to the knees. It was often delicately tinted or printed, as to its outer part, with stamped figures. The part of the tapa skirt thus printed, like the outer, decorative one in a set of tapa bed-sheets, was termed the _kilohana_. The pa-ú worn by the danseuse, when of tapa, was often of such volume as to balloon like the skirt of a coryphée. To put it on was quite an art, and on that account, if not on the score of modesty, a portion of the halau, was screened off and devoted to the use of the females as a dressing room, being known as the _unu-lau-koa_, and to this place they repaired as soon as the kumu gave the signal for dressing. The hula pa-ú of the women was worn in addition to that of daily life; the hula pa-ú of the men, a less pretentious affair, was worn outside the malo, and in addition to it. The method of girding on the pa-ú was peculiar. Beginning at the right hip--some say the left--a free end was allowed to hang quite to the knee; then, passing across the back, rounding the left hip, and returning by way of the abdomen to the starting point, another circuit of the waist was accomplished; and, a reverse being made, the garment was secured by passing the bight of the tapa beneath the hanging folds of the pa-ú from below upward until it slightly protruded above the border of the garment at the waist. This second end was thus brought to hang down the hip alongside of the first free end; an arrangement that produced a most decorative effect. The Hawaiians, in their fondness for giving personal names to inanimate objects, named the two free ends (_apua_) of the pa-ú respectively _Ku-kápu-úla-ka-láni_ and _Léle-a-mahu'i_. According to another method, which was simpler and more commonly employed, the piece was folded sidewise and, being gathered into pleats, a cord was inserted the length of the fold. The cord was passed about the waist, knotted at the hip, and thus held the garment secure. [Page 51] While the girls are making their simple toilet and donning their unique, but scanty, costume, the kumu, aided by others, soothes the impatience of the audience and stimulates their imagination by cantillating a mele that sets forth in grandiloquent imagery the praise of the pa-ú. _Oli Pa-ú_ Kakua pa-ú, ahu na kikepa![92] I ka pa-ú noenoe i hooluu'a, I hookakua ia a paa iluna o ka imu.[93] Ku ka nu'a[94] o ka pali o ka wai kapu, 5 He kuina[95] pa-ú pali[96] no Kupe-hau, I holo a paa ia, paa e Hono-kane.[97] Malama o lilo i ka pa-ú. Holo ilio la ke ala ka Manú[98] i na pali; Pali ku kahakó liaka a-i, 10 I ke keiki pa-ú pali a Kau-kini,[99] I hoonu'anu'a iluna o ka Auwana.[100] [Page 52] Akahi ke ana, ka luhi i ka pa-ú: Ka ho-oio i ke kapa-wai, I na kikepa wai o Apua,[101] 15 I hopu 'a i ka ua noe holo poo-poo, Me he pa-ú elehiwa wale i na pali. Ohiohi ka pali, ki ka liko o ka lama, Mama ula[102] ia ka malua ula, I hopu a omau ia e ka maino. 20 I[103] ka malo o Umi ku huná mai. Ike'a ai na maawe wai oloná,[104] E makili ia nei i Wahilau.[105] Holo ke oloná, paa ke kapa. Hu'a lepo ole ka pa-ú; 25 Nani ka o-iwi ma ka maka kilo-hana.[106] Makalii ka ohe,[107] paa ke kapa. Opua ke ahi i na pali, I hookau kalena ia e ka makani, I kaomi pohaku ia i Wai-manu, 30 I na alá[108] ki-óla-óla; I na alá, i alá lele Ia Kane-poha-ka'a.[109] Paa ia Wai-manu,[110] o-oki Wai-pi'o; Lalau o Ha'i i ka ohe, Ia Koa'e-kea,[111] 35 I kauhihi ia ia ohe laulii, ia ohe. Oki'a a moku, mo' ke kini,[112] [Page 53] Mo ke kihl, ka maiáma ka Hoaka,[113] I apahu ia a poe, 40 O awili[114] o Malu-ô. He pola ia no ka pa-ú; E hii ana e Ka-holo-kua-iwa, Ke amo la e Pa-wili-wlli I ka pa-ú poo kau-poku--[115] 45 Kau poku a hana ke ao, Kau iluna o Hala'a-wili, I owili hana haawe. Ku-ka'a, olo-ka'a wahie; Ka'a ka opeope, ula ka pali;[116] 50 Uwá, kamalii, hookani ka pihe, Hookani ka a'o,[117] a hana pilo ka leo, I ka mahalo i ka pa-ú, I ka pa-ú wai-lehua a Hi'i-lawe[118] iluna, Pi'o anuenue a ka ua e ua nei. [Footnote 92: _Kikepa_. The bias, the one-sided slant given the pa-ú by tucking it in at one side, as previously described.] [Footnote 93: _Imu_. An oven; an allusion to the heat and passion of the part covered by the pa-ú.] [Footnote 94: _Hu'a_. Foam; figurative of the fringe at the border of the pa-ú.] [Footnote 95: _Kuina_. A term applied to the five sheets that were stitched together (_kui_) to make a set of bed-clothes. Five turns also, it is said, complete a pa-ú.] [Footnote 96: _Pali no Kupe-Hau_. Throughout the poem the pa-ú is compared to a _pali_, a mountain wall. Kupe-hau is a precipitous part of Wai-pi'o valley.] [Footnote 97: _Hono-kane_. A valley near Wai-pi'o. Here it is personified and said to do the work on the pa-ú.] [Footnote 98: _Manú_. A proper name given to this pa-ú.] [Footnote 99: _Kau-kini_. The name of a hill back of Lahaina-luna, the traditional residence of a _kahuna_ named _Lua-hoo-moe_, whose two sons were celebrated for their manly beauty. Ole-pau, the king of the island Maui, ordered his retainer, Lua-hoo-moe, to fetch for his eating some young _u-a'u_, a sea-bird that nests and rears its young in the mountains. These young birds are esteemed a delicacy. The kahuna, who was a bird-hunter, truthfully told the king that it was not the season for the young birds; the parent birds were haunting the ocean. At this some of the king's boon companions, moved by ill-will, charged the king's mountain retainer with suppressing the truth, and in proof they brought some tough old birds caught at sea and had them served for the king's table. Thereupon the king, not discovering the fraud, ordered that Lua-hoo-moe should be put to death by fire. The following verses were communicated to the author as apropos of Kau-kini, evidently the name of a man: Ike ia Kau-kini, he lawaia manu. He upena ku'u i ka noe i Poha-kahi, Ua hoopulu ia i ka ohu ka kikepa; Ke na'i la i ka luna a Kea-auwana; Ka uahi i ke ka-peku e hei ai ka manu o Pu-o-alii. O ke alii wale no ka'u i makemake Ali'a la, ha'o, e! [Translation] Behold Kau-kini, a fisher of birds; Net spread in the mist of Poha-kahi, That is soaked by the sidling fog. It strives on the crest of Koa-auwana. Smoke traps the birds of Pu-o-alii. It's only the king that I wish: But stay now--I doubt. ] [Footnote 100: _Auwana_. Said to be an eminence on the flank of Haleakala, back of Ulupalakua.] [Footnote 101: _Apua_. A place on Hawaii, on Maui, on Oahu, on Kauai, and on Molokai.] [Footnote 102: _Mama ula ia ka malua ula_. The malua-ula was a variety of tapa that was stained with _hili kukui_ (the root-bark of the kukui tree). The ripe kukui nut was chewed into a paste and mingled with this stain. _Mama ula_ refers to this chewing. The _malua ula_ is mentioned as a foil to the pa-ú, being a cheap tapa.] [Footnote 103: _I_. A contracted form of _ti_ or _ki_, the plant or, as in this case, the leaf of the _ti_, the Dracæna (pl. V). Liloa, the father Of Umi, used it to cover himself after his amour with the mother of Umi, having given his malo in pledge to the woman. Umi may have used this same leaf as a substitute for the malo while in the wilderness of Laupahoehoe, hiding away from his brother, King Hakau.] [Footnote 104: _Oloná_. A strong vegetable fiber sometimes added to tapa to give it strength. The fibers of olona in the fabric of the pa-ú are compared to the runnels and brooklets of _Waihilau_.] [Footnote 105: _Wai-hilau_. Name applied to the water that drips in a cave in Puna. It is also the name of a stream in Wai-pi'o valley, Hawaii.] [Footnote 106: _Kilo-hana_. The name given the outside, ornamented, sheet of a set (_kuina_) of five tapas used as bed-clothing. It was also applied to that part of a pa-ú which was decorated with figures. The word comes from _kilohi_, to examine critically, and _hana_, to work, and therefore means an ornamental work.] [Footnote 107: _Ohe_. Bamboo. In this case the stamp, made from bamboo, used to print the tapa.] [Footnote 108: _Alá_. The hard, dark basalt of which the Hawaiian _ko'i_, adz, is made; any pebble, or small water-worn stone, such as would be used to hold in place the pa-ú while spread out to dry.] [Footnote 109: _Kane-poha-ka'a_. Kane-the-hail-sender. The great god Kane was also conceived of as Kane-hekili, the thunderer; Kane-lulu-honua, the earthquake-sender, etc.] [Footnote 110: _Wai-manu_ and _Wai-pi'o_ are neighboring valleys.] [Footnote 111: _Ko-a'e-kea_. A land in Wai-pi'o valley.] [Footnote 112: _Mo' ke kihi_. Mo' is a contracted form of _moku_.] [Footnote 113: _Hoaka._ The name of the moon in its second day, or of the second day of the Hawaiian month; a crescent.] [Footnote 114: _O awili o Malu-á._ The most direct and evident sense of the word _awili_ is to wrap. It probably means the wrapping of the pa-ú about the loins; or it may mean the movable, shifty action of the pa-ú caused by the lively actions of the dancer. The expression _Malw-á_ may be taken from the utterance of the king's _ilamuku_ (constable or sheriff) or other official, who, in proclaiming a tabu, held an idol in his arms and at the same time called out _Kapu, o-o!_ The meaning is that the pa-ú, when wrapped about the woman's loins, laid a tabu on the woman. The old Hawaiian consulted on the meaning of this passage quoted the following, which illustrates the fondness of his people for endless repetitions and play upon words: Awiliwili i ka hale[119] o ka lauwili, e. He lauwili ka makanl, he Kaua-ula,[120] I hoapaapa i ka hale o ka lauwili, e: [Translation] Unstable the house of the shifty man, Fickle as the wind Kaua-ula. Treachery lurks in the house of Unstable. ] [Footnote 115: _Kaupoku._ A variant of the usual form, which is _kaupaku,_ the ridgepole of a house, its apex. The pa-ti when, worn takes the shape of a grass house, which has the form of a haystack.] [Footnote 116: _Ula ka pali._ Red shows the pali, i. e., the side hill. This is a euphemism for some accident by which the pa-ú has been displaced, and an exposure of the person has taken place, as a result of which the boys scream and even the sea-bird, the _a'o,_ shrieks itself hoarse.] [Footnote 117: _A'o._ A sea-bird, whose raucous voice is heard in the air at night at certain seasons.] [Footnote 118: _Hi'i-lawe_. A celebrated waterfall in Wai-pi'o valley, Hawaii.] [Footnote 119: Primitive meaning, house; second, the body as the house of the soul.] [Footnote 120: Kaua-ula. A strong wind that shifted from one point to another, and that blew, often with great violence, at Lahaina, Maul. The above triplet was often quoted by the chiefs of olden time apropos of a person who was fickle in love or residence. As the old book has it, "The double-minded man is unstable in all his ways." (_O ke kanáka lolilua ka manao lauwili kona mau aoao a pau._)] This is a typical Hawaiian poem of the better sort, keyed in a highly imaginative strain. The multitude of specific allusions to topographical names make it difficult to [Page 54] translate it intelligently to a foreign mind. The poetical units are often so devised that each new division takes its clue from the last word of the previous verse, on the principle of "follow your leader," a capital feature in Hawaiian poetry. [Translation] Pa-ú Song Gird on the pa-ú, garment tucked in one side, Skirt lacelike and beauteous in staining, That is wrapped and made fast about the oven. Bubbly as foam of falling water it stands, 5 Quintuple skirt, sheer as the cliff Kupe-hau. One journeyed to work on it at Honokane. Have a care the pa-ú is not filched. Scent from the robe Manú climbs the valley walls-- Abysses profound, heights twisting the neck. 10 A child is this steep thing of the cliff Kau-kini, A swelling cloud on the peak of Auwana. Wondrous the care and toil to make the pa-ú! What haste to finish, when put a-soak In the side-glancing stream of Apua! 15 Caught by the rain-scud that searches the glen, The tinted gown illumines the pali-- The sheeny steep shot with buds of lama-- Outshining the comely malua-ula. Which one may seize and gird with a strong hand. 20 Leaf of ti for his malo, Umi[121] stood covered. Look at the oloná fibers inwrought, Like the trickling brooklets of Wai-hilau. The oloná, fibers knit with strength This dainty immaculate web, the pa-ú, 25 And the filmy weft of the kilo-hana. With the small bamboo the tapa is finished. A fire seems to bud on the pali, When the tapa is spread out to dry, Pressed down with stones at Wai-manu-- 30 Stones that are shifted about and about, Stones that are tossed here and there, Like work of the hail-thrower Kane. At Wai-manu finished, 'tis cut at Wai-pi'o; Ha'l takes the bamboo Ko-a'e-kea; [Page 55] 35 Deftly wields the knife of small-leafed bamboo; A bamboo choice and fit for the work. Cut, cut through, cut off the corners; Cut round, like crescent moon of Hoaka; Cut in scallops this shift that makes tabu: 40 A fringe is this for the pa-ú. 'Tis lifted by Ka-holo-ku-iwa, 'Tis borne by Pa-wili-wili; A pa-ú narrow at top like a house, That's hung on the roof-tree till morning, 45 Hung on the roof-tree Ha-la'a-wili. Make a bundle fitting the shoulder; Lash it fast, rolled tight like a log. The bundle falls, red shows the pali; The children shout, they scream in derision. 50 The a'o bird shrieks itself hoarse In wonder at the pa-ú-- Pa-ú with a sheen like Hi'i-lawe falls, Bowed like the rainbow arch Of the rain that's now falling. [Footnote 121: _Umi_. It was Liloa, the father of Umi, who covered himself with a ti leaf instead of a malo after the amour that resulted in the birth of Umi. His malo he had given as a pledge to the woman, who became the mother of Umi.] The girls of the olapa, their work in the tiring-room completed, lift their voices in a spirited song, and with a lively motion pass out into the hall to bloom before the waiting assembly in the halau in all the glory of their natural charms and adornments: _Oli_ Ku ka punohu ula i ka moana; Hele ke ehu-kai, uhi i ka aina; Olapa ka uila, noho ï Kahiki. Ulna, nakolo, 5 Uwa, ka pihe, Lau[122] kánaka ka hula. E Laka, e! [Translation] _Tiring Song_. The rainbow stands red o'er the ocean; Mist crawls from the sea and covers the land; Far as Kahiki flashes the lightning; A reverberant roar, 5 A shout of applause From the four hundred. I appeal to thee, Laka! [Footnote 122: _Lau_ (archaic). Four hundred.] [Page 56] The answering song, led by the kumu, is in the same flamboyant strain: _Oli_ Lele Mahu'ilani[123] a luna, Lewa ia Kauna-lewa![124] [Translation] _Song_ Lift Mahu'ilani on high; Thy palms Kauna-lewa a-waving! [Footnote 123: _Mahu'ilani_. A poetlcal name for the right hand; this the _olapa_, the dancing girls, lifted in extension as they entered the halau from, the dressing room. The left hand was termed _Kaohi-lani_.] [Footnote 124: _Kauna-lewa_. The name of a celebrated grove of coconuts at Kekaha, Kauai, near the residence of the late Mr. Knudsen.] After the ceremony of the pa-ú came that of the lei, a wreath to crown the head and another for the neck and shoulders. It was not the custom in the old times to overwhelm the body with floral decorations and to blur the outlines of the figure to the point of disfigurement; nor was every flower that blows acceptable as an offering. The gods were jealous and nice in their tastes, pleased, only with flowers indigenous to the soil--the ilima (pl. VI), the lehua, the maile, the ie-ie, and the like (see pp. 19, 20). The ceremony was quickly accomplished. As the company knotted the garlands about head or neck, they sang: _Oli Lei_ Ke lei mai la o Ka-ula i ke kai, e! Ke malamalama o Niihau, ua malie. A malie, pa ka Inu-wai. Ke inu mai la na hala o Naue i ke kai. 5 No Naue, ka hala, no Puna ka wahine.[125] No ka lua no i Kilauea. [Translation] _Wreath Song_ Ka-ula wears the ocean as a wreath; Nii-hau shines forth in the calm. After the calm blows the wind Inu-wai; Naue's palms then drink in the salt. 5 From Naue the palm, from Puna the woman-- Aye, from the pit, Kilauea. Tradition tells a pathetic story (p. 212) in narrating an incident touching the occasion on which this song first was sung. [Footnote 125: _Wahine_. The woman, Pele.] BULLETIN 38 PLATE VI [Illustration: ILIMA (SIDA FALLAX) LEI AND FLOWERS] [Page 57] IX.--THE HULA ALA'A-PAPA Every formal hula was regarded by the people of the olden time as a sacred and religious performance (_tabu_); but all hulas were not held to be of equal dignity and rank (_hanohano_). Among those deemed to be of the noblest rank and honor was the _ala'a-papa_. In its best days this was a stately and dignified performance, comparable to the old-fashioned courtly minuet. We shall observe in this hula the division of the performers into two sets, the _hoopa'a_ and the _olapa_. Attention will naturally bestow itself first on the olapa, a division of the company made up of splendid youthful figures, young men, girls, and women in the prime of life. They stand a little apart and in advance of the others, the right hand extended, the left resting upon the hip, from which hangs in swelling folds the pa-ú. The time of their waiting for the signal to begin the dance gives the eye opportunity to make deliberate survey of the forms that stand before us. The figures of the men are more finely proportioned, more statuesque, more worthy of preservation in marble or bronze than those of the women. Only at rare intervals does one find among this branch of the Polynesian race a female shape which from crown to sole will satisfy the canons of proportion--which one carries in the eye. That is not to say, however, that the artistic eye will not often meet a shape that appeals to the sense of grace and beauty. The springtime of Hawaiian womanly beauty hastes away too soon. Would it were possible to stay that fleeting period which ushers in full womanhood! One finds himself asking the question to what extent the responsibility for this overthickness of leg and ankle--exaggerated in appearance, no doubt, by the ruffled anklets often worn--this pronounced tendency to the growth of that degenerate weed, fat, is to be explained by the standard of beauty which held sway in Hawaii's courts and for many ages acted as a principle of selection in the physical molding of the Hawaiian female. The prevailing type of physique among the Hawaiians, even more marked in the women than in the men, is the short and thick, as opposed to the graceful and slender. One does occasionally find delicacy of modeling in the young and immature; but with adolescence fatness too often comes to blur the outline. The hoopa'a, who act as instrumentalists, very naturally maintain a position between sitting and kneeling, the better [Page 58] to enable them, to handle that strangely effective drumlike instrument, the _ipu_, the one musical instrument used as an accompaniment in this hula. The ipu is made from the bodies of two larger pear-shaped calabashes of unequal sizes, which are joined together at their smaller ends in such a manner as to resemble a figure-of-eight. An opening is left at the top of the smaller calabash to increase the resonance. In moments of calm the musicians allow the body to rest upon the heels; as the action warms they lift themselves to such height as the bended knee will permit. The ala'a-papa is a hula of comparatively moderate action. While the olapa employ hands, feet, and body in gesture and pose to illustrate the meaning and emotion of the song, the musicians mark the time by lifting and patting with the right hand the ipu each holds in the left hand. If the action of the play runs strong and stirs the emotions, each hoopa'a lifts his ipu wildly, fiercely smites it, then drops it on the padded rest in such manner as to bring out its deep mysterious tone. At a signal from the kumu, who sits with the hoopa'a, the _poo-pua'a_, leader of the olapa, calls the mele (_kahea i ka mele_)--that is, he begins its recitation--in a tone differing but little from that of ordinary conversation, a sing-song recitation, a vocalization less stilted and less punctilious than that usually employed in the utterance of the oli or mele. The kumu, the leader of the company, now joins in, mouthing his words in full observance of the mele style. His manner of cantillation may be either what may be called the low relief, termed _ko'i-honua_, or a pompous alto-relievo style, termed _ai-ha'a_. This is the signal for the whole company to chime in, in the same style as the kumu. The result, as it seems to the untutored ear, is a confusion of sounds like that of the many-tongued roar of the ocean. The songs cantillated for the hula ala'a-papa were many and of great variety. It seems to have been the practice for the kumu to arrange a number of mele, or poetical pieces, for presentation in the hula in such order as pleased him. These different mele, thus arranged, were called _pale_, compartments, or _mahele_, divisions, as if they were integral parts of one whole, while in reality their relation to one another was only that of the juxtaposition imposed upon them by the kumu. The poetical pieces first to be presented were communicated to the author as mahele, divisions--hardly cantos--in the sense above defined. They are, however, distinct poems, though there chances to run through them all a somewhat similar motive. The origin of many of these is referred to a past so remote that tradition assigns them to what the Hawaiians call the _wa po_, the night of tradition, or they say of them, _no ke akua mai_, they are from the gods. It [Page 59] matters not how faithful has been the effort to translate these poems, they will not be found easy of comprehension. The local allusions, the point of view, the atmosphere that were in the mind of the savage are not in our minds to-day, and will not again be in any mind on earth; they defy our best efforts at reproduction. To conjure up the ghostly semblance of these dead impalpable things and make them live again is a problem that must be solved by each one with such aid from the divining rod of the imagination as the reader can summon to his help. Now for the play, the song: _Mele no Ka Hula Alá'a-papa_ MAHELE-HELE I PAUKU 1 A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua, E ko-kolo la-lepo ana ka ua, E ka'i ku ana, ka'i mai ana ka ua, E nu mai ana ka ua i ke kuahiwi, 5 E po'i ana ka ua me he nalu la. E puka, a puka mai ka ua la. Waliwali ke one i ka hehi'a e ka ua; Ua holo-wai na kaha-wai; Ua ko-ké wale na pali. 10 Aia ka wai la i ka ilina,[126] he ilio, He ilio hae, ke nahu nei e puka. [Translation] _Song for the Hula Alá'a-papa._ CANTO I STANZA 1 'Twas in Koolau I met with the rain: It comes with lifting and tossing of dust, Advancing in columns, dashing along. The rain, It sighs In the forest; 5 The rain, it beats and whelms, like the surf; It smites, it smites now the land. Pasty the earth from the stamping rain; Full run the streams, a rushing flood; The mountain walls leap with the rain. 10 See the water chafing its bounds like a dog, A raging dog, gnawing its way to pass out. This song is from the story of Hiiaka on her journey to Kauai to bring the handsome prince, Lohiau, to Pele. The region is that on the windward, _Koolau_, side of Oahu. [Footnote 126: _Ilina_. A sink, a place where a stream sinks into the earth or sand.] [Page 60] PAUKU 2 Hoopono oe, he aina kai Waialua i ka hau; Ke olelo[127] wale no la i ka lani. Lohe ka uka o ka pehu i Ku-kani-loko.[128] I-loko, i-waho kaua la, e ka hoa, 5 I kahi e pau ai o ka oni? Oni ana i ka manawa o ka lili. Pee oe, pee ana iloko o ka hilahila. I hilahila wale ia no e oe; Nou no ka hale,[129] komo mai maloko. The lines from, the fourth to the ninth in this stanza (_pauku_) represent a dialogue between two lovers. [Translation] STANZA 2 Look now, Waialua, land clothed with ocean-mist-- Its wilderness-cries heaven's ear only hears, The wilderness-gods of Ku-kani-loko. Within or without shall we stay, friend, 5 Until we have stilled the motion? To toss is a sign of impatience. You hide, hiding as if from shame, I am bashful because of your presence; The house is yours, you've only to enter. PAUKU 3 (Ko'i-honua) Pakú Kea-au,[130] lulu Wai-akea;[131] Noho i ka la'i Ioa o Hana-kahi,[132] O Hilo, i olokea[133] ia, i au la, e, i kai, O Lele-iwi,[134] o Maka-hana-loa.[135] 5 Me he kaele-papa[136] la Hilo, i lalo ka noho. Kaele[137] wale Hilo i ke alai ia e ka ua. Oi ka niho o ka ua o Hilo i ka lani; Kua-wa'a-wa'a Hilo eli 'a e ka wai; Kai-koo, haki na nalu, ka ua o Hilo; [Page 61] 10 Ha'i lau-wili mai ka nahele. Nanalu, kahe waikahe o Wai-luku; Hohonu Waiau,[138] nalo ke poo o ka lae o Moku-pane;[139] Wai ulaula o Wai-anue-nue;[140] Ka-wowo nui i ka wai o Kolo-pule-pule;[141] 15 Halulu i ha-ku'i, ku me he uahi la Ka puá, o ka wai ua o-aka i ka lani. Eleele Hilo e, pano e, i ka ua; Okakala ka hulu o Hilo i ke anu; Pili-kau[142] mai Hilo ia ua loa. 20 Pali-ku laau ka uka o Haili[143] Ka lae ohi'a e kope-kope, Me he aha moa la, ka pale pa laau, Ka nahele o Pa-ie-ie,[144] Ku'u po'e lehua iwaena konu o Mo-kau-lele;[145] 25 Me ka ha'i laau i pu-kaula hala'i i ka ua. Ke nana ia la e la'i i Hanakahi. Oni aku Hilo, oni ku'u kai lipo-lipo, A Lele-iwi, ku'u kai ahu mimiki a ka Malua.[146] Lei kahiko, lei nalu ka poai. 30 Nana Pu'u-eo[147] e! makai ka iwi-honua,[148] e! Puna-hoa la, ino, ku, ku wau a Wai-akea la. [Footnote 127: _Olelo_. To speak, to converse; here used figuratively to mean that the place is lonely, has no view of the ocean, looks only to the sky. "Looks that commerce with the sky."] [Footnote 128: _Ku-kani-loko_. A land in Waialua, Oahu, to which princesses resorted in the olden times at the time of childbirth, that their offspring might have the distinction of being an _alii kapu_, a chief with a tabu.] [Footnote 129: _Hale_ House; a familiar euphemism of the human body.] [Footnote 130: _Kea-au_. An _ahu-pua'a_, small division of land, in Puna adjoining Hilo, represented as sheltering Hilo on that side.] [Footnote 131: _Waiakea_. A river in Hilo, and the land through which it flows.] [Footnote 132: _Hana-kahi_. A land on the Hamakua side of Hilo, also a king whose name was a synonym for profound peace.] [Footnote 133: _Olo-kea_. To be invited or pulled many ways at once; distracted.] [Footnote 134: _Lele-iwi_. A cape on the north side of Hilo.] [Footnote 135: _Maka-hana-loa_. A cape.] [Footnote 136: _Kaele-papa_. A large, round, hollowed board on which to pound taro in the making of poi. The poi-board was usually long and oval.] [Footnote 137: _Kaele_. In this connection the meaning is surrounded, encompassed by.] [Footnote 138: _Waiau_. The name given to the stretch of Wailuku river near its mouth.] [Footnote 139: _Moku-pane_. The cape between the mouth of the Wailuku river and the town of Hilo.] [Footnote 140: _Wai-anue-nue_. Rainbow falls and the river that makes the leap.] [Footnote 141: _Kolo-pule-pule_. Another branch of the Wailuku stream.] [Footnote 142: _Pili-kau_. To hang low, said of a cloud.] [Footnote 143: _Haili_. A region in the inland, woody, part of Hilo.] [Footnote 144: _Pa-ieie_. A well-wooded part of Hilo, once much resorted to by bird-hunters; a place celebrated in Hawaiian song.] [Footnote 145: _Mokau-lele_. A wild, woody region In the interior of Hilo.] [Footnote 146: _Malua_. Name given to a wind from a northerly or northwesterly direction on several of the islands. The full form is Malua-lua.] [Footnote 147: _Pu'u-eo_. A village in the Hilo district near Puna.] [Footnote 148: _Iwi-honua_. Literally a bone of the earth: a projecting rock or a shoal; if in the water, an object to be avoided by the surf-rider. In this connection see note _e_, p. 36.] [Translation] STANZA 3 (With distinct utterance) Kea-au shelters, Waiakea lies in the calm, The deep peace of King Hana-kahi. Hilo, of many diversions, swims in the ocean, 'Tween Point Lele-iwi and Maka-hana-loa; 5 And the village rests in the bowl, Its border surrounded with rain-- Sharp from the sky the tooth of Hilo's rain. Trenched is the land, scooped out by the downpour-- Tossed and like gnawing surf is Hilo's rain-- 10 Beach strewn with a tangle of thicket growth; A billowy freshet pours in Wailuku; Swoll'n is Wai-au, flooding the point Moku-pane; And red leaps the water of Anue-nue. A roar to heaven sends up Kolo-pule, [Page 62] 15 Shaking like thunder, mist rising like smoke. The rain-cloud unfolds in the heavens; Dark grows Hilo, black with the rain. The skin of Hilo grows rough from the cold; The storm-cloud hangs low o'er the land. 20 A rampart stand the woods of Haili; Ohi'as thick-set must be brushed aside, To tear one's way, like a covey of fowl, In the wilds of Pa-ie-ie-- Lehua growths mine--heart of Mokau-lele. 25 A breaking, a weaving of boughs, to shield from rain; A look enraptured on Hana-kahi, Sees Hilo astir, the blue ocean tossing Wind-thrown-spray--dear sea--'gainst Point Lele-iwi-- A time-worn foam-wreath to encircle its brow. 30 Look, Pu'u-eo! guard 'gainst the earth-rib! It's Puna-hoa reef; halt! At Waiakea halt! PAUKU 4 (Ai-ha'a) Kua loloa Kea-au i ka nahele; Hala kua hulu-hulu Pana-ewa i ka laau; Inoino ka maha o ka ohia o La'a. Ua ku kepakepa ka maha o ka lehua; 5 Ua po-po'o-hina i ka wela a ke Akua. Ua u-ahi Puna i ka oloka'a pohaku, I ka huna pa'a ia e ka wahine. Nanahu ahi ka papa o Olu-ea; Momoku ahi Puna hala i Apua; 10 Ulu-á ka nahele me ka laau. Oloka'a kekahi ko'i e Papa-lau-ahi; I eli 'a kahi ko'i e Ku-lili-kaua. Kai-ahea a hala i Ka-li'u; A eu e, e ka La, ka malama-lama. 15 O-na-naka ka piko o Hilo ua me ke one, I hull i uka la, i hulihia i kai; Ua wa-wahi 'a, ua na-ha-há, Ua he-hele-lei! [Translation] STANZA 4 (Bombastic style) Ke'-au is a long strip of wildwood; Shag of pandanus mantles Pan'-ewa; Scraggy the branching of Laa's ohias; The lehua limbs at sixes and sevens-- 5 They are gray from the heat of the goddess. [Page 63] Puna smokes mid the bowling of rocks-- Wood and rock the She-god heaps in confusion, The plain Oluea's one bed of live coals; Puna is strewn with fires clean to Apua, 10 Thickets and tall trees a-blazing. Sweep on, oh fire-ax, thy flame-shooting flood! Smit by this ax is Ku-lili-kaua. It's a flood tide of lava clean to Kali'u, And the Sun, the light-giver, is conquered. 15 The bones of wet Hilo rattle from drought; She turns for comfort to mountain, to sea, Fissured and broken, resolved into dust. This poem is taken from the story of Hiiaka. On her return from the journey to fetch Lohiau she found that her sister Pele had treacherously ravaged with fire Puna, the district that contained her own dear woodlands. The description given in the poem is of the resulting desolation. PAUKA 5 No-luna ka Hale-kai[149] no ka ma'a-lewa,[150] Nana ka maka ia Moana-nui-ka-lehua.[151] Noi au i ke Kai, e mali'o.[152] Ina ku a'e la he lehua[153] ilaila! 5 Hopoe-lehua[154] kiekie. Maka'u ka lehua i ke kanáka,[155] Lilo ilalo e hele ai, e-e, A ilalo hoi. O Kea-au[156] ili-ili nehe ke kai, [Page 64] 10 Hoo-lono[157] ke kai o Puna I ka ulu hala la, e-e, Kai-ko'o Puna. Ia hooneenee ia pili mai[158] kaua, e ke hoa. Ke waiho e mai la oe ilaila. 15 Ela ka mea ino la, he anu, A he anu me he mea la iwaho kaua, e ke hoa; Me he wai la ko kaua ili. [Footnote 149: _Hale-kai_. A wild mountain, glen back of Hanalei valley, Kauai.] [Footnote 150: _Ma'alewa_. An aerial root that formed a sort of ladder by which one climbed the mountain steeps; literally a shaking sling.] [Footnote 151: _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_. A female demigod that came from the South (_Ku-kulu-o-Kahiki_) at about the same mythical period as that of Pele's arrival--If not in her company--and who was put in charge of a portion of the channel that lies between Kauai and Oahu. This channel was generally termed _Ie-ie-waena_ and _Ie-ie-waho_. Here the name _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_ seems to be used to indicate the sea as well as the demigoddess, whose dominion it was. Ordinarily she appeared as a powerful fish, but she was capable of assuming the form of a beautiful woman (mermaid?). The title _lehua_ was given her on account of her womanly charms.] [Footnote 152: _Mali'o_. Apparently another form of the word _malino_, calm; at any rate it has the same meaning.] [Footnote 153: _Lehua_. An allusion to the ill-fated' young woman Hopoe, who was Hiiaka's intimate friend. The allusion is amplified in the next line.] [Footnote 154: _Hopoe-lehua_. The lehua tree was one of the forms in which Hopoe appeared, and after her death, due to the jealous rage of Pele, she was turned into a charred lehua tree which stood on the coast subject to the beating of the surf.] [Footnote 155: _Maka'u ka lehua i ke kanaka_. Another version has it _Maka'u ke kanaka i ka lehua_; Man fears the lehua. The form here used is perhaps an ironical allusion to man's fondness not only to despoil the tree of its scarlet flowers, but womanhood, the woman it represented.] [Footnote 156: _Kea-au_. Often shortened in pronunciation to _Ke-au_, a fishing village in Puna near Hilo town. It now has a landing place for small vessels.] [Footnote 157: _Hoolono_. To call, to make an uproar, to spread a report.] [Footnote 158: _Ia hoo-nee-nee ia pili mai_. A very peculiar figure of speech. It Is as if the poet personified, the act of two lovers snuggling up close to each other. Compare with this the expression _No huli mai_, used by another poet in the thirteenth line of the lyric given on p. 204. The motive is the same in each case.] The author of this poem of venerable age is not known. It is spoken of as belonging to the _wa po_, the twilight of tradition. It is represented to be part of a mele taught to Hiiaka by her friend and preceptress in the hula, Hopoe. Hopoe is often called _Hopoe-wahine_. From internal evidence one can see that it can not be in form the same as was given to Hiiaka by Hopoe; it may have been founded on the poem of Hopoe. If so, it has been modified. [Translation] STANZA 5 From mountain retreat and root-woven ladder Mine eye looks down on goddess Moana-Lehua; I beg of the Sea, Be thou calm; Would there might stand on thy shore a lehua-- 5 Lehua-tree tall of Ho-poe. The lehua is fearful of man; It leaves him to walk on the ground below, To walk the ground far below. The pebbles at Ke'-au grind in the surf. 10 The sea at Ke'-au shouts to Puna's palms, "Fierce is the sea of Puna." Move hither, snug close, companion mine; You lie so aloof over there. Oh what a bad fellow is cold! 15 'Tis as if we were out on the wold; Our bodies so clammy and chill, friend! The last five verses, which sound like a love song, may possibly be a modern addition to this old poem. The sentiment they contain is comparable to that expressed in the Song of Welcome on page 39: Eia ka pu'u nui o waho nei, he anu. The hill of Affliction out there is the cold. [Page 65] MAHELE-HELE II Hi'u-o-lani,[159] kii ka ua o Hilo[160] i ka lani; Ke hookiikii mai la ke ao o Pua-lani;[161] O mahele ana,[162] pulu Hilo i ka ua-- O Hilo Hana-kahi.[163] 5 Ha'i ka nalu, wai kaka lepo o Pii-lani; Hai'na ka iwi o Hilo, I ke ku ia e ka wai. Oni'o lele a ka ua o Hilo i ka lanu Ke hookiikii mai la ke ao o Pua-lani, 10 Ke holuholu a'e la e puka, Puka e nana ke kiki a ka ua, Ka nonoho a ka ua i ka hale o Hilo. Like Hilo me Puna ke ku a mauna-ole[164] He ole ke ku a mauna Hilo me Puna. 15 He kowa Puna mawaena Hilo me Ka-ú; Ke pili wale la i ke kua i mauna-ole; Pili hoohaha i ke kua o Mauna-loa. He kuahiwi Ka-ú e pa ka makani. Ke alai ia a'e la Ka-ú e ke A'e;[165] 20 Ka-u ku ke ehu lepo ke A'e; Ku ke ehu-lepo mai la Ka-ú i ka makani. Makani Kawa hu'a-lepo Ka-ú i ke A'e. [Page 66] Kahiko mau no o Ka-ú i ka makani. Makani ka Lae-ka-ilio i Unu-lau, 25 Kaili-ki'i[166] a ka lua a Kaheahea,[167] I ka ha'a nawali ia ino. Ino wa o ka mankani o Kau-ná. Nana aku o ka makani malaila! O Hono-malino, malino i ka la'i o Kona. 30 He inoa la! [Footnote 159: _Hi'u-o-lani_. A very blind phrase. Hawaiians disagree as to its meaning. In the author's opinion, it is a word referring to the conjurer's art.] [Footnote 160: _Ua o Hilo_. Hilo is a very rainy country. The name Hilo seems to be used here as almost a synonym of violent rain. It calls to mind the use of the word Hilo to signify a strong wind: Pa mai, pa mai, Ka makani a Hilo![168] Waiho ka ipu iki, Homai ka ipu nui! [Translation] Blow, blow, thou wind of Hilo! Leave the little calabash, Bring on the big one! ] [Footnote 161: _Pua-lani_. The name of a deity who took the form of the rosy clouds of morning.] [Footnote 162: _Mahele ana_. Literally the dividing; an allusion to the fact, it is said, that in Hilo a rain-cloud, or rain-squall, as it came up would often divide and a part of it turn off toward Puna at the cape named Lele-iwi, one-half watering, in the direction of the present town, the land known as Hana-kahi.] [Footnote 163: _Hana-kahi_. Look at note _f_, p. 60.] [Footnote 164: _Mauna-ole_. According to one authority this should be Mauna-Hilo. Verses 13, 14, 16, and 17 are difficult of translation. The play on the words _ku a_, standing at, or standing by, and _kua_, the back; also on the word _kowa_, a gulf or strait; and the repetition of the word _mauna_, mountain--all this is carried to such an extent as to be quite unintelligible to the Anglo-Saxon mind, though full of significance to a Hawaiian.] [Footnote 165: _A'e_. A strong wind that prevails in Ka-u. The same word also means to step on, to climb. This double-meaning gives the poet opportunity for a euphuistic word-play that was much enjoyed by the Hawaiians. The Hawaiians of the present day are not quite up to this sort of logomachy.] [Footnote 166: _Kaili-ki'i_. The promontory that shelters the cove _Ka-hewa-hewa_.] [Footnote 167: _Ka-hea-hea_. The name of the cove _Ka-hewa-hewa_, above mentioned, is here given in a softened form obtained by the elision of the letter _w_.] [Footnote 168: _Hilo_, or Whiro, as in the Maori, was a great navigator.] [Translation] CANTO II Heaven-magic, fetch a Hilo-pour from heaven! Morn's cloud-buds, look! they swell in the East. The rain-cloud parts, Hilo is deluged with rain, The Hilo of King Hana-kahi. 5 Surf breaks, stirs the mire of Pii-lani; 5 The bones of Hilo are broken By the blows of the rain. Ghostly the rain-scud of Hilo in heaven; The cloud-forms of Pua-lani grow and thicken. 10 The rain-priest bestirs him now to go forth, Forth to observe the stab and thrust of the rain, The rain that clings to the roof of Hilo. Hilo, like Puna, stands mountainless; Aye, mountain-free stand Hilo and Puna. 15 Puna 's a gulf 'twixt Ka-ú and Hilo; Just leaning her back on Mount Nothing, She sleeps at the feet of Mount Loa. A mountain-back is Ka-ú which the wind strikes, Ka-ú, a land much scourged by the A'e. 20 A dust-cloud lifts in Ka-ú as one climbs. A dust-bloom floats, the lift of the wind: 'Tis blasts from mountain-walls piles dust, the A'e. Ka-ú was always tormented with wind. Cape-of-the-Dog feels Unulau's blasts; 25 They turmoil the cove of Ka-hea-hea, Defying all strength with their violence. There's a storm when wind blows at Kau-ná. Just look at the tempest there raging! Hono-malino sleeps sheltered by Kona. 30 A eulogy this of a name. "What name?" was asked of the old Hawaiian. "A god," said he. "How is that? A mele-inoa celebrates the name and glory of a king, not of a god." [Page 67] His answer was, "The gods composed the mele; men did not compose it." Like an old-time geologist, he solved the puzzle of a novel phenomenon by ascribing it to God. MAHELE III (Ai-ha'a) A Koa'e-kea,[169] i Pueo-hulu-nui,[169] Neeu a'e la ka makahiapo o ka pali; A a'e, a a'e, a'e[170] la iluna Kaholo-kua-iwa, ka pali o Ha'i.[171] 5 Ha'i a'e la ka pali; Ha-nu'u ka pali; Hala e Malu-ó; Hala a'e la Ka-maha-la'a-wili, Ke kaupoku hale a ka ua. 10 Me he mea i uwae'na a'e la ka pali; Me he hale pi'o ka lei na ka manawa o ka pali Halehale-o-ú; Me he aho i hilo 'a la ka wai o Wai-hi-lau; Me he uahi pulehu-manu la ke kai o ka auwala hula ana. Au ana Maka'u-kiu[172] iloko o ke kai; 15 Pohaku lele[173] o Lau-nui, Lau-pahoehoe. Ka eku'na a ke kai i ka ala o Ka-wai-kapu-- Eku ana, me he pua'a la, ka lae Makani-lele, Koho-lá-lele. [Translation] CANTO III (Bombastic style) Haunt of white tropic-bird and big ruffled owl, Up rises the firstborn child of the pali. He climbs, he climbs, he climbs up aloft, Kaholo-ku'-iwa, the pali of Ha'i. 5 Accomplished now is the steep, The ladder-like series of steps. Malu-ó is left far below. [Page 68] Passed is Ka-maha-la'-wili, The very ridge-pole of the rain-- 10 It's as if the peak cut it in twain-- An arched roof the peak's crest Hale-hale-o-ú. A twisted cord hangs the brook Wai-hilau; Like smoke from roasting bird Ocean's wild dance; The shark-god is swimming the sea; 15 The rocks leap down at Big-leaf[174] and Flat-leaf--[174] See the ocean charge 'gainst the cliffs, Thrust snout like rooting boar against Windy-cape, Against Koholá-lele. [Footnote 169: _Koa'e-kea, Pueo hulu-nui_. Steep declivities, _pali_, on the side of Waipio valley, Hawaii. Instead of inserting these names, which would be meaningless without an explanation, the author has given a literal translation of the names themselves, thus getting a closer insight into the Hawaiian thought.] [Footnote 170: _A'e_. The precipices rise one above another like the steps of a stairway, climbing, climbing up, though the probable intent of the poet is to represent some one as climbing the ascent.] [Footnote 171: _Ha'i_. Short for _Ha'ina-kolo;_ a woman about whom there is a story of tragic adventure. Through eating when famished of some berries in an unceremonious way she became distraught and wandered about for many months until discovered by the persistent efforts of her husband. The pali which she climbed was named after her.] [Footnote 172: _Maka'u-kiu_. The name of a famous huge shark that was regarded with reverential fear.] [Footnote 173: _Pohaku lele_. In order to determine whether a shark was present, it was the custom, before going into the clear water of some of these coves, to throw rocks into the water in order to disturb the monster and make his presence known.] [Footnote 174: _Big-leaf_. A literal translation of _Lau-nui_. _Laupahoehoe_, Flat-leaf.] MAHELE IV Hole[175] Waimea i ka ihe a ka makani, Hao mai na ale a ke Ki-pu'u-pu'u;[176] He laau kala-ihi ia na ke anu, I o'o i ka nahele o Mahiki.[177] 5 Ku aku la oe i ka Malanai[178] a ke Ki-puu-puu; Nolu ka maka o ka oha-wai[179] o Uli; Niniau, eha ka pua o Koaie,[180] Eha i ke anu ka nahele o Wai-ka-é, A he aloha, e! 10 Aloha Wai-ká, ia'u me he ipo la; Me he ipo la ka maka lena o ke Koo-lau,[181] Ka pua i ka nahele o Mahule-i-a, E lei hele i ke alo o Moo-lau.[182] E lau ka huaka'i-hele i ka pali loa; 15 Hele hihiu, puli[183] noho i ka nahele. O ku'u noho wale iho no i kahua, e-e. A he aloha, e-e! O kou aloha ka i hiki mai i o'u nei. Mahea la ia i nalo iho nei? This mele, _Hole Waimea_, is also sung in connection with the hula _ipu_. [Footnote 175: _Hole_. To rasp, to handle rudely, to caress passionately. Waimea is a district and village on Hawaii.] [Footnote 176: _Kipu'u-pu'u_. A cold wind from Mauna-Kea that blows at Waimea.] [Footnote 177: _Mahiki_. A woodland in Waimea, in mythological times haunted by demons and spooks.] [Footnote 178: _Mala-nai_. The poetical name of a wind, probably the trade wind; a name much used in Hawaiian sentimental poetry.] [Footnote 179: _Oha-wai_. A water hole that is filled by dripping; an important source of supply for drinking purposes in certain parts of Hawaii.] [Footnote 180: _Pua o Koaie_, The koaie is a tree that grows in the wilds, the blossom of which is extremely fragrant. (Not the same as that subspecies of the _koa_ (Acacia koa) which Hillebrand describes and wrongly spells _koaia_. Here a euphemism for the delicate parts.)] [Footnote 181: _Koolau_, or, full form, _Ko-kao-lau_. Described by Doctor Hillebrand as _Kokolau_, a wrong spelling. It has a pretty yellow flower, a yellow eye--_maka lena_--as the song has it. Here used tropically. (This is the plant whose leaf is sometimes used as a substitute for tea.)] [Footnote 182: _Moolau_. An expression used figuratively to mean a woman, more especially her breasts. The term _Huli-lau_, is also used, in a slang way, to signify the breasts of a woman, the primitive meaning being a calabash.] [Footnote 183: _Pili_. To touch; touched. This was the word used in the forfeit-paying love game, _kilu_, when the player made a point by hitting the target of his opponent with his _kilu_. (For further description see p. 235.)] [Page 69] The song above given, the translation of which is to follow, belongs to historic times, being ascribed to King Liholiho--Kamehameha II--who died in London July 13, 1824, on his visit to England. It attained great vogue and still holds its popularity with the Hawaiians. The reader will note the comparative effeminacy and sentimentality of the style and the frequent use of euphemisms and double-entendre. The double meaning in a Hawaiian mele will not always be evident to one whose acquaintance with the language is not intimate. To one who comes to it from excursions in Anglo-Saxon poetry, wandering through its "meadows trim with daisies pied," the sly intent of the Hawaiian, even when pointed out, will, no doubt, seem an inconsequential thing and the demonstration of it an impertinence, if not a fiction to the imagination. Its euphemisms in reality have no baser intent than the euphuisms of Lyly, Ben Jonson, or Shakespeare. [Translation.] _Song--Hole Waimea_ PART IV Love tousled Waimea with, shafts of the wind, While Kipuupuu puffed jealous gusts. Love is a tree that blights in the cold, But thrives in the woods of Mahiki. 5 Smitten art thou with the blows of love; Luscious the water-drip in the wilds; Wearied and bruised is the flower of Koaie; Stung by the frost the herbage of Wai-ka-é: And this--it is love. 10 Wai-ká, loves me like a sweetheart. Dear as my heart Koolau's yellow eye, My flower in the tangled wood, Hule-í-a, A travel-wreath to lay on love's breast, A shade to cover my journey's long climb. 15 Love-touched, distraught, mine a wilderness-home; But still do I cherish the old spot, For love--it is love. Your love visits me even here: Where has it been hiding till now? PAUKU 2 Kau ka ha-é-a, kau o ka hana wa ele, Ke ala-ula ka makani, Kulu a e ka ua i kou wabi moe. Palepale i na auwai o lalo; 5 Eli mawaho o ka hale o Koolau, e. E lau Koolau, he aina ko'e-ko'e; Maka'u i ke anu ka uka o ka Lahuloa. Loa ia mea, na'u i waiho aku ai. [Page 70] [Translation] STANZA 2 A mackerel sky, time for foul weather; The wind raises the dust-- Thy couch is a-drip with the rain; Open the door, let's trench about the house: 5 Koolau, land of rain, will shoot green leaves. I dread the cold of the uplands. An adventure that of long ago. The poem above given from beginning to end is figurative, a piece of far-fetched, enigmatical symbolism in the lower plane of human nature. PAUKU 3 Hoe Puna i ka wa'a po-lolo'[184] a ka ino; Ha-uke-uke i ka wa o Koolau: Eha e! eha la! Eha i ku'i-ku'i o ka Ulu-mano.[185] 5 Hala 'e ka waluahe a ke A'e,[186] Ku iho i ku'i-ku'i a ka Ho-li'o;[187] Hana ne'e ke kikala o ko Hilo Khii. Ho'i lu'u-lu'u i ke one o Hana-kahi,[188] I ka po-lolo' ua wahine o ka lua: 10 Mai ka lua no, e! [Translation] STANZA 3 Puna plies paddle night-long in the storm; Is set back by a shift in the weather, Feels hurt and disgruntled; Dismayed at slap after slap of the squalls; 5 Is struck with eight blows of Typhoon; Then smit with the lash of the North wind. Sad, he turns back to Hilo's sand-beach: He'll shake the town with a scandal-- The night-long storm with the hag of the pit, 10 Hag from Gehenna! [Footnote 184: _Po-lolo_. A secret word, like a cipher, made up for the occasion and compounded of two words, _po_, night, and _loloa_, long, the final _a_, of _loloa_ being dropped. This form of speech was called _kepakepa_, and was much used by the Hawaiians in old times.] [Footnote 185: _Ulu-mano_. A violent wind which blows by night only on the western side of Hawaii. Kamehameha with a company of men was once wrecked by this wind off Nawawa; a whole village was burned to light them ashore. (Dictionary of the Hawaiian Language, by Lorrin Andrews.)] [Footnote 186: _Walu-ihe a ke A'e_. The _A'e_ is a violent wind that is described as blowing from different points of the compass in succession; a circular storm. _Walu-ihe_--eight spears--was a name applied to this same wind during a certain portion of its circuitous range, covering at least eight different points, as observed by the Hawaiians. It was well fitted, therefore, to serve as a figure descriptive of eight different lovers, who follow each other in quick succession, in the favors of the same wanton.] [Footnote 187: _Ho-Wo_ The name of a wind, but of an entirely different character from those above mentioned.] [Footnote 188: _Hana-kahi_. (See note _f_, p. 60.)] [Page 71] This is not a line-for-line translation; that the author found infeasible. Line 8 of the English represents line 7 of the Hawaiian. Given more literally, it might be, "He'll shake the buttocks of Hilo's forty thousand." The metaphor of this song is disjointed, but hot with the primeval passions of humanity. PAUKU 4 Ho-ina-inau mea ipo i ka nahele; Haa-kokoe ana ka maka i ka Moani, I ka ike i na pua i hoomahie 'Iuna; Ua hi-hi-hina wale i ka moe awakea. 5 Ka ino' ua poina ia Mali'o. Aia ka i Pua-lei o Ha'o. I Puna no ka waihona o ka makani; Kaela ka malama ana a ka Pu'u-lena, I kahi mea ho-aloha-loha, e! 10 E aloha, e! [Translation] STANZA 4 Love is at play in the grove, A jealous swain glares fierce At the flowers tying love-knots, Lying wilted at noon-tide. 5 So you've forgotten Mali'o, Turned to the flower of Puna-- Puna, the cave of shifty winds. Long have I cherished this blossom, A treasure hid in my heart! 10 Oh, sweetheart! The following account is taken from the Polynesian Researches of the Rev. William Ellis, the well-known English missionary, who visited these islands in the years 1822 and 1823, and whose recorded observations have been of the highest value in preserving a knowledge of the institutions of ancient Hawaii. In the afternoon, a party of strolling musicians and dancers arrived at Kairua. About four o'clock they came, followed by crowds of people, and arranged themselves on a fine sandy beach in front of one of the governor's houses, where they exhibited a native dance, called _hura araapapa_. The five musicians first seated themselves in a line on the ground, and spread a piece of folded cloth on the sand before them. Their instrument was a large calabash, or rather two, one of an oval shape about three feet high, the other perfectly round, very neatly fastened to it, having also an aperture about three inches in diameter at the top. Each musician held his instrument before him with both hands, and produced his music by striking it on the ground, where he had laid a piece of cloth, and beating it with his fingers, or the palms of his hands. As soon as they began to sound their calabashes, the dancer, a young man about the middle stature, advanced through the opening crowd. [Page 72] His jet-black hair hung in loose and flowing ringlets on his naked shoulders; his necklace was made of a vast number of strings of nicely braided human hair, tied together behind, while a _paraoa_ (an ornament made of a whale's tooth) hung pendent from it on his breast; his wrists were ornamented with bracelets formed of polished tusks of the hog, and his ankles with loose buskins, thickly set with dog's teeth, the rattle of which, during the dance, kept time with the music of the calabash drum. A beautiful yellow tapa was tastefully fastened round his loins, reaching to his knees. He began his dance in front of the musicians, and moved forward and backwards, across the area, occasionally chanting the achievements of former kings of Hawaii. The governor sat at the end of the ring, opposite to the musicians, and appeared gratified with the performance, which continued until the evening. (Vol. IV, 100-101, London, Fisher, Son & Jackson, 1831.) NOTE BY THE AUTHOR.--At the time of Mr. Ellis' visit to Hawaii the orthography of the Hawaiian language was still in a formative stage, and it is said that his counsels had influence in shaping it. His use of _r_ instead of _l_ in the words _hula, alaapapa_, and _palaoa_ may, therefore, be ascribed to the fact of his previous acquaintance with the dialects of southern Polynesia, in which the sound of _r_ to a large extent substitutes that of _l_, and to the probability that for that reason his ear was already attuned to the prevailing southern fashion, and his judgment prepossessed in that direction. [Illustration: PLATE VII IPU HULA, GOURD DRUM] [Page 73] X.--THE HULA PA-ÍPU, OR KUÓLO The _pa-ípu_, called also the _kuólo_, was a hula of dignified character, in which all the performers maintained the kneeling position and accompanied their songs with the solemn tones of the _ípu_ (pl. vii), with which each one was provided. The proper handling of this drumlike instrument in concert with the cantillation of the mele made such demands upon the artist, who was both singer and instrumentalist, that only persons of the most approved skill and experience were chosen to take part in the performance of this hula. The manner of treating the ípu in this hula differed somewhat from that employed in the ala'a-papa, being subdued and quiet in that, whereas in the pa-ípu it was at times marked with great vigor and demonstrativeness, so that in moments of excitement and for the expression of passion, fierce joy, or grief the ípu might be lifted on high and wildly brandished. It thus made good its title as the most important instrument of the Hawaiian orchestra. In the pa-ípu, as in the hulas generally, while the actors were sometimes grouped according to sex, they were quite as often distributed indiscriminately, the place for the leader, the kumu, being the center. The vigor that marks the literary style of the mele now given stamps it as belonging to the archaic period, which closed in the early part of the eighteenth century, that century which saw the white man make his advent in Hawaii. The poem deals apparently with an incident in one of the migrations such as took place during the period of intercourse between the North and the South Pacific. This was a time of great stir and contention, a time when there was much paddling and sailing about and canoe-fleets, often manned by warriors, traversed the great ocean in every direction. It was then that Hawaii received many colonists from the archipelagoes that lie to the southward. _Mele_ (Ko'i-honua) Wela Kahiki, e! Wela Kahiki, e! Wela aku la Kahiki; Ua kaulu-wela ka moku; [Page 74] 5 Wela ka ulu o Hawaii; Kakala wela aku la Kahiki ia Olopana,[189] Ka'u wahi kanaka; O ka hei kapu[190] o Hana-ka-ulani,[191] Ka hei kapu a ke alii, 10 Ka hoo-mamao-lani,[192] Ke kapu o Keawe,[193] A o Keawe Ke alii holo, ho-i'a i kai, e-e! [Footnote 189: _Olopana_. A celebrated king of Waipio valley, Hawaii, who had to wife the famous beauty, Luukia. Owing to misfortune, he sailed away to _Kahiki_, taking with him his wife and his younger brother, Moikeha, who was his _puna-lua_, settling in a land called _Moa-ula-nui-akea_. Olopana probably ended his days in his new-found home, but Moi-keha, heart-sick at the loss of Luukia's favors, came hack to Hawaii and became the progenitor of a line of distinguished men, several of whom were famous navigators. Exactly what incident in the life of Olopana is alluded to in the sixth and preceding verses, the traditions that narrate his adventures do not inform us.] [Footnote 190: _Hei kapu_. An oracle; the place where the high priest kept himself while consulting the deities of the _heiau_. It was a small house erected on an elevated platform of stones, and there he kept himself in seclusion at such times as he sought to be the recipient of communications from the gods.] [Footnote 191: _Hana-ka-ulani_. A name applied to several _heiau_ (temples). The first one so styled, according to tradition, was built at Hana, Maui, and another one at Kaluanui, on Oahu, near the famous valley of Ka-liu-wa'a. These heiau are said to have been built by the gods in the misty past soon after landing on these shores. Was it to celebrate their escape from perils by sea and enemies on land, or was it in token of thankfulness to gods still higher than themselves? The author's informant can not tell whether these followed the fierce, strict cult of Kane or the milder cult of Lono.] [Footnote 192: _Hoo-mamao-lani_. An epithet meaning remote in the heavens, applied to an alii of very high rank.] [Footnote 193: _Keawe_. This is a name that belonged, to several kings and a large family of gods--_papa akua_--all of which gods are said to have come from Kahiki and to have dated their origin from the _Wa Po_, the twilight of antiquity. Among the demigods that were called _Keawe_ may be mentioned: (1) _Keawe-huli_, a prophet and soothsayer. (2) _Keawe-kilo-pono_, a wise and righteous one, who loved justice. (3) _Keawe-hula-maemae_. It was his function to maintain purity and cleanliness; he was a devouring flame that destroyed rubbish and all foulness. (4) _Keawe-ula-o-ka-lani_. This was the poetical appellation, given to the delicate flush of early morning. Apropos of this the Hawaiians have the following quatrain, which they consider descriptive not only of morning blush, but also of the coming in of the reign of the gods: O Keawe-ula-i-ka-lani, O Keawe-liko-i-ka-lani, O Ke'awe-uina-poha-i-Kahiki; Hikl mai ana o Lono.[Translation] Keawe-the-red-blush-of-dawn, Keawe-the-bud-in-the-sky, Keawe-thunder-burst-at-Kahiki: Till Lono comes in to reign. (5) _Keawe-pa-makani_. It was his function to send winds from _Kukulu-o-Kahiki_, as well as from some other points. (6) _Keawe-ío-ío-moa_. This god inspected the ocean tides and currents, such as _Au-miki_ and _Au-ká_. (7) _Keawe-i-ka-liko_. He took charge of flowerbuds and tender shoots, giving them a chance to develop. (8) _Keawe-ulu-pu_. It was his function to promote the development and fruitage of plants. (9) _Keawe-lu-pua_. He caused flowers to shed their petals. (10) _Keawe-opala_. It was his thankless task to create rubbish and litter by scattering the leaves of the trees. (11) _Keawe-hulu_, a magician, who could blow a feather into the air and see it at once become a bird with power to fly away. (12) _Keawe-nui-ka-ua-o-Hilo_, a sentinel who stood guard by night and by day to watch over all creation. (13) _Keawe-pulehu_. He was a thief and served as [Page 75] cook for the gods. There were gods of evil as well as of good in this set. (14) _Keawe-oili_. He was gifted with the power to convey and transfer evil, sickness, misfortune, and death. (15) _Keawe-kaili_. He was a robber. (16) _Keawe-aihue_. He was a thief. (17) _Keuwe-mahilo_. He was a beggar. He would stand round while others were preparing food, doing honest work, and plead with his eyes. In this way he often obtained a dole. (18) _Keawe-puni-pua'a_. He was a glutton, very greedy of pork; he was also called _Keawe-ai-pua'a_. (19) _Keawe-inoino_. He was a sloven, unclean in all his ways. (20) _Keawe-ilio_. The only title to renown of this superhuman creature was his inordinate fondness for the flesh of the dog. So far none of the superhuman heings mentioned seemed fitted to the role of the Keawe of the text, who was passionately fond of the sea. The author had given up in despair, when one day, on repeating his inquiry in another quarter, he was rewarded by learning of--(21) _Keawe-i-na-'kai_. He was a resident of the region about the southeastern point of Molokai, called _Lae-ka-Ilio_--Cape of the Dog. He was extravagantly fond of the ocean and allowed no weather to interfere with the indulgence of his penchant. An epithet applied to him describes his dominating passion: _Keawe moe i ke kai o Kohakú_, Keawe who sleeps in (or on) the sea of Kohakú. It seems probable that this was the Keawe mentioned in the twelfth and thirteenth lines of the mele. The appellation _Keawe_ seems to have served as a sort of Jack among the demigods of the Hawaiian pantheon, on whom was to be laid the burden of a mongrel host of virtues and vices that were not assignable to the regular orthodox deities. Somewhat in the same way do we use the name Jack as a caption, for a miscellaneous lot of functions, as when we speak of a "Jack-at-all-trades."] [Translation] Song (Distinct utterance) Glowing is Kahiki, oh! Glowing is Kahiki! Lo, Kahiki is a-blaze, The whole island a-burning. 5 Scorched is thy scion, Hawaii. Kahiki shoots flame-tongues at Olopana, That hero of yours, and priest Of the oracle Hana-ka-ulani, The sacred shrine of the king-- 10 He is of the upper heavens, The one inspired by Keawe, That tabu-famous Keawe, The king passion-fond of the sea. _Mele_ PALE I Lau lehua punoni ula ke kai o Kona, Ke kai punoni ula i oweo ia; Wewena ula ke kai la, he kokona; Ula ia kini i ka uka o Alaea, 5 I hili ahi ula i ke kapa a ka wahine, I hoeu ia e ka ni'a, e ka hana, E ka auwai lino mai la a kehau. He hau hoomoe ka lau o ka niu, Ke oho o ka laau, lauoho loloa. 10 E lóha ana i ka la i o Kailua la, i-u-a, O ke ku moena ololi a ehu O ku'u aina kai paeaea. Ea, hoea iluna o Mauna Kilohana, Na kaha poohiwi mau no he inoa. 15 Ua noa e, ua pii'a kou wahi kapu, e-e! I a'e 'a mai e ha'i. [Page 76] [Translation] _Song_ CANTO I Leaf of lehua and noni-tint, the Kona sea, Iridescent saffron and red, Changeable watered red, peculiar to Kona; Red are the uplands Alaea; 5 All, 'tis the flame-red stained robes of women Much tossed by caress or desire. The weed-tangled water-way shines like a rope of pearls, Dew-pearls that droop the coco leaf, The hair of the trees, their long locks-- 10 Lo, they wilt in the heat of Kailua the deep. A mat spread out narrow and gray, A coigne of land by the sea where the fisher drops hook. Now looms the mount Kilohana-- Ah, ye wood-shaded heights, everlasting your fame! 15 Your tabu is gone! your holy of holies invaded! Broke down by a stranger! The intricately twisted language of this mele is allegorical, a rope whose strands are inwrought with passion, envy, detraction, and abuse. In translating it one has to choose between the poetic verbal garb and the esoteric meaning which the bard made to lurk beneath the surface. _Mele_ PALE II Kauó pu ka iwa kala-pahe'e, Ka iwa, ka manu o Kaula i ka makani. E ka manu o-ú pani-wai o Lehua, O na manu kapu a Kuhai-moana, 5 Mai hele a luna o Lei-no-ai, O kolohe, o alai mai ka Unu-lau. Puni'a iluna o ka Halau-a-ola; A ola aku i ka luna o Maka-iki-olea, I ka lulu, i ka la'i o kai maio, 10 Ma ka ha'i-wá, i ka mole o Lehua la, Le-hú-a! O na lehua o Alaka'i ka'u aloha, O na lehua iluna o Ko'i-alana; Ua nonoho hooipo me ke kohe-kohe; Ua anu, maeele i ka ua noe. 15 Ua mai oe; kau a'e ka naná, laua nei, e-e, Na 'lii e o'oni mai nei, e-e! [Translation] _Song_ CANTO II The iwa flies heavy to nest in the brush, Its haunt on windy Ke-ula. The watch-bird, that fends off the rain from Le-hu-a-- [Page 77] Bird sacred to Ku-hai, the shark-god-- 5 Shrieks, "Light not on terrace of Lei-no-ai, Lest Unu-lau fiercely assail you." Storm sweeps the cliffs of the islet; A covert they seek neath the hills, In the sheltered lee of the gale, 10 The cove at the base of Le-hu-a. The shady groves there enchant them, The scarlet plumes of lehua. Love-dalliance now by the water-reeds, Till cooled and appeased by the rain-mist. 15 Pour on, thou rain, the two heads press the pillow: Lo, prince and princess stir in their sleep! The scene of this mele is laid on one of the little bird-islands that lie to the northwest of Kauai. The _iwa_ bird, flying heavily to his nesting place in the wiry grass (_kala-pahee_), symbolizes the flight of a man in his deep-laden pirogue, abducting the woman of his love. The screaming sea-birds that warn him off the island, represented as watch-guards of the shark-god Kuhai-moana (whose reef is still pointed out), figure the outcries of the parents and friends of the abducted woman. After the first passionate outburst (_Puni'a iluna o ka Halau-a-ola_) things go more smoothly (ola, ...). The flight to covert from the storm, the cove at the base of Le-hu-a, the shady groves, the scarlet pompons of the lehua--the tree and the island have the same name--all these things are to be interpreted figuratively as emblems of woman's physical charms and the delights of love-dalliance. _Mele_ PALE III (Ai-ha'a) Ku aku la Kea-aú, lele ka makani mawaho, Ulu-mano, ma ke kaha o Wai-o-lono. Ua moani lehua a'e la mauka; Kani lehua iluna o Kupa-koili, 5 I ka o ia i ka lau o ka hala, Ke poo o ka hala o ke aku'i. E ku'i e, e ka uwalo. Loli ka mu'o o ka hala, A helelei ka pua, a pili ke alanui: 10 Pu ia Pana-ewa, ona-ona i ke ala, I ka nahele makai o Ka-unu-loa la. Nani ke kaunu, ke kaunu a ke alii, He puni ina'i poi na maua. Ua hala ke Kau a me ka Hoilo, 15 Mailaila mai no ka hana ino. Ino mai oe, noho malie aku no hoi au; Hopo o' ka inaina, ka wai, e-e; Wiwo au, hopohopo iho nei, e-e! [Page 78] [Translation] _Song_ CANTO III (In turgid style) A storm, from the sea strikes Ke-au, Ulu-mano, sweeping across the barrens; It sniffs the fragrance of upland lehua, Turns back at Kupa-koili; 5 Sawed by the blows of the palm leaves, The groves of pandanus in lava shag; Their fruit he would string 'bout his neck; Their fruit he finds wilted and crushed, Mere rubbish to litter the road-- 10 Ah, the perfume! Pana-ewa is drunk with the scent; The breath of it spreads through the groves. Vainly flares the old king's passion, Craving a sauce for his meat and mine. The summer has flown; winter has come: 15 Ah, that is the head of our troubles. Palsied are you and helpless am I; You shrink from a plunge in the water; Alas, poor me! I'm a coward. The imagery of this mele sets forth the story of the fierce, but fruitless, love-search of a chief, who is figured by the _Ulu-mano_, a boisterous wind of Puna, Hawaii. The fragrance of upland lehua (_moani lehua, a'e la mauka_, verse 3) typifies the charms of the woman he pursues. The expression _kani lehua_ (verse 4), literally the sudden ending of a rain-squall, signifies the man's failure to gain his object. The lover seeks to string the golden drupe of the pandanus (_halo_), that he may wear them as a wreath about his neck (_uwalo_); he is wounded by the teeth of the sword-leaves (_o ia i ka lau o ka hala_, verse 5). More than this, he meets powerful, concerted resistance (_ke poo o ka hala o ke aku'i_, verse 6), offered by the compact groves of pandanus that grow in the rough lava-shag (_aku'i_), typifying, no doubt, the resistance made by the friends and retainers of the woman. After all, he finds, or declares that he finds, the hala fruit he had sought to gather and to wear as a _lei_ about his neck, to be spoiled, broken, fit only to litter the road (_loli ka mu'o o ka hala_, verse 8; _A helelei ka'pua, a pili ke alanui_, verse 9). In spite of his repulse and his vilification of the woman, his passion, still feeds on the thought of the one he has lost; her charms intoxicate his imagination, even as the perfume of the hala bloom bewitches the air of Pana-ewa (_Pu ia Panaewa, ona-ona i ke ala_, verse 10). It is difficult to interpret verses 12 to 18 in harmony with the story as above given. They may be regarded as a [Page 79] commentary on the passionate episode in the life of the lover, looked at from the standpoint of old age, at a time when passion still survives but physical strength is in abeyance. As the sugar-boiler can not extract from the stalk the last grain of sugar, so the author finds it impossible in any translation to express the full intent of these Hawaiian mele. _Mele_ PALE IV Aole au e hele ka li'u-lá o Maná, Ia wai crape-kanaka[194] o Lima-loa;[195] A e hoopunipuni ia a'e nei ka malihini; A mai puni au: lie wai oupe na. 5 He ala-pahi ka li'u-lá o Maná; Ke poloai[196] la i ke Koolau-waline.[197] Ua ulu mai ka hoaloha i Wailua, A ua kino-lau[198] Kawelo[199] mahamaha-i'[200] [Page 80] A ua aona[201] mai nei lio oiwi e. 10 He mea e wale au e noho aku nei la. Noho. O ka noho kau a ka mea waiwai; O kau ka i'a a haawi ia mai. Oli-oli au ke loaa ia oe. 15 A pela ke ahi o Ka-maile,[202] He alualu hewa a'e la ka malihini, Kukuni hewa i ka ili a kau ka uli, e; Kau ka uli a ka mea aloha, e. [Footnote 194: _Wai oupe-kanaka_. Man-fooling water; the mirage.] [Footnote 195: _Lima-loa_. The long-armed, the god of the mirage, who made his appearance at Maná, Kauai.] [Footnote 196: _Poloai_. To converse with, to have dealings with one.] [Footnote 197: _Koolau-wahine_. The sea-breeze at Mana. There is truth as well as poetry in the assertion made in this verse. The warm moist air, rising from the heated sands of Maná, did undoubtedly draw in the cool breeze from the ocean--a fruitful dalliance.] [Footnote 198: _Kino-lau_. Having many (400) bodies, or metamorphoses, said of Kawelo.] [Footnote 199: _Kawelo_. A sorcerer who lived in the region of Maná. His favorite metamorphosis was into the form of a shark. Even when in human form he retained the gills of a fish and had the mouth of a shark at the back of his shoulders, while to the lower part of his body were attached the tail and flukes of a shark. To conceal these monstrous appendages he wore over his shoulders a _kihei_ of kapa and allowed himself to be seen only while in the sitting posture. He sometimes took the form of a worm, a moth, a caterpillar, or a butterfly to escape the hands of his enemies. On land he generally appeared as a man squatting, after the manner of a Hawaiian gardener while weeding his garden plot. The cultivated lands of Kawelo lay alongside the much-traveled path to the beach where the people of the neighborhood resorted to bathe, to fish, and to swim in the ocean. He made a practice of saluting the passers-by and of asking them, "Whither are you going?" adding the caution, "Look to it that you are not swallowed head and tail by the shark; he has not breakfasted yet" (_E akahele oukou o pau po'o, pau hi'u i ka manó; aohe i paina i kakahiaka o ka manó_). As soon as the traveler had gone on his way to the ocean, Kawelo hastened to the sea and there assumed his shark-form. The tender flesh of children was his favorite food. The frequent utterance of the same caution, joined to the great mortality among the children and youth who resorted to the ocean at this place, caused a panic among the residents. The parents consulted a soothsayer, who surprised them with the information that the guilty one was none other than the innocent-looking farmer, Kawelo. Instructed by the soothsayer, the people made an immense net of great strength and having very fine meshes. This they spread in the ocean at the bathing place. Kawelo, when caught in the net, struggled fiendishly to break away, but in vain. According to directions, they flung the body of the monster into an enormous oven which they had heated to redness, and supplied with fresh fuel for five times ten days--_elima anahulu_. At the end of that time there remained only gray ashes. The prophet had commanded them that when this had been accomplished they must fill the pit of the oven with dry dirt; thus doing, the monster would never come to life. They neglected this precaution. A heavy rain flooded the country--the superhuman work of the sorcerer--and from the moistened ashes sprang into being a swarm of lesser sharks. From them have come the many species of shark that now infest our ocean. The house which once was Kawelo's ocean residence is still pointed out, 7 fathoms deep, a structure regularly built of rocks.] [Footnote 200: _Maha-maha i'a_. The gills or fins of a fish such as marked Kawelo.] [Footnote 201: _Aona_. A word of doubtful meaning; according to one it means lucky. That expounder (T---- P----) says it should, or-might be, _haona_; he instances the phrase _iwi paou_, in which the word _paoa_ has a similar, but not identical, form and means lucky bone.] [Footnote 202: _Ka-maile_. A place on Kauai where prevailed the custom of throwing firebrands down the lofty precipice of Nuololo. This amusement made a fine display at night. As the fire-sticks fell they swayed and drifted in the breeze, making it difficult for one standing below to premise their course through the air and to catch one of them before it struck the ground or the water, that being one of the objects of the sport. When a visitor had accomplished this feat, he would sometimes mark his flesh with the burning stick that he might show the brand to his sweetheart as a token of his fidelity.] [Translation] _Song_ CANTO IV I will not chase the mirage of Maná, That man-fooling mist of god Lima-loa, Which still deceives the stranger-- And came nigh fooling me--the tricksy water! 5 The mirage of Maná, is a fraud; it Wantons with the witch Koolau. A friend has turned up at Wailua, Changeful Kawelo, with gills like a fish, Has power to bring luck in any queer shape. 10 As a stranger now am I living, Aye, living. You flaunt like a person of wealth, Yours the fish, till it comes to my hook. I am blest at receiving from you: 15 Like fire-sticks flung at Ka-maile-- The visitor vainly chases the brand: Fool! he burns his flesh to gain, the red mark, A sign for the girl he loves, oho! _Mele_ PALE V (Ai-ha'a, a he Ko'i-honua paha) Kauhua Ku, ka Lani, i-loli ka moku; Hookohi ke kua-koko o ka Lani; He kua-koko, pu-koko i ka honua; He kna-koko kapu no ka Lani; [Page 81] 5 He ko'i ula ana a maku'i i ka ala, Hoomau ku-wá mahu ia, Ka maka o ke ahi alii e a nei. Ko mai ke keiki koko a ka Lani, Ke keiki he nuuhiwa ia Hitu-kolo, 10 O ke keiki hiapo anuenue, iloko o ka manawa, O hi ka wai nui o ka nuuhiwa a Ke-opu-o-lani, O ua alii lani alewa-lewa nei, E u-lele, e ku nei ma ka lani; O ka Lani o na mu'o-lau o Liliha, 15 Ka hakina, ka pu'e, ka maka, o Kuhi-hewa a Lola-- Kalola, nana ke keiki laha-laha; Ua kela, he kela ka pakela O na pahi'a loa o ka pu likoliko i ka lani O kakoo hulu manu o o-ulu, 20 O ka hulu o-ku'i lele i ka lani, O hiapo o ka manu leina a Pokahi, O Ka-lani-opu'u hou o ka moku, O na kupuna koikoi o Keoua, o ka Lani Kui-apo-iwa. [Translation] _Song_ CANTO V (To be recited in bombastic style, or, it may be, distinctly) Big with child is the Princess Ku; The whole island suffers her whimsies; The pangs of labor are on her; Labor that stains the land with blood, 5 Blood-clots of the heavenly born, To preserve and guard the royal line, The spark of king-fire now glowing: A child is he of heavenly stock, Like the darling of Hitu-kolo, 10 First womb-fruit born to love's rainbow. A bath for this child of heaven's breast, This mystical royal offspring, Who ranks with the heavenly peers, This tender bud of Liliha, 15 This atom, this parcel, this flame, In the line Kuhi-hewa of Lola-- Ka-lola, who mothered a babe prodigious, For glory and splendor renowned, A scion most comely from heaven, 20 The finest down of the new-grown plume, From bird whose moult floats to heaven, Prime of the soaring birds of Pokahi, The prince, heaven-flower of the island, Ancestral sire of Ke-oua, 25 And of King Kui-apo-iwa. [Page 82] The heaping up of adulations, of which this mele is a capital instance, was not peculiar to Hawaiian poetry. The Roman Senate bestowed divinity on its emperors by vote; the Hawaiian bard laureate, careering on his Pegasus, thought to accomplish the same end by piling Ossa on Pelion with high-flown phrases; and every loyal subject added his contribution to the cairn that grew heavenward. In Hawaii, as elsewhere, the times of royal debasement, of aristocratic degeneracy, of doubtful or disrupted succession, have always been the times of loudest poetic insistence on birth-rank and the occasion for the most frenzied utterance of high-sounding titles. This is a disease that has grown with the decay of monarchy. Applying this criterion to the mele above given, it may be judged to be by no means a product wholly of the archaic period. While certain parts, say from the first to the tenth verses, inclusive, bear the mark of antiquity, the other parts do not ring clear. It seems as if some poet of comparatively modern times had revamped an old mele to suit his own ends. Of this last part two verses were so glaringly an interpolation that they were expunged from the text. The effort to translate into pure Anglo-Saxon this vehement outpour of high-colored phrases has made heavy demands on the vocabulary and has strained the idioms of our speech well-nigh to the point of protest. In lines 1, 2, 4, 8, 14, and 23 the word _Lani_ means a prince or princess, a high chief or king, a heavenly one. In lines 12, 13, 18, and 20 the same word _lani_ means the heavens, a concept in the Hawaiian mind that had some far-away approximation to the Olympus of classic Greece. _Mele_ Ooe no paha ia, e ka lau o ke aloha, Oia no paha ia ke kau mai nei ka hali'a. Ke hali'a-li'a mai nei ka maka, Manao hiki mai no paha an anei. 5 Hiki mai no la ia, na wai e uwe aku? Ua pau kau la, kau ike iaia; Ka manawa oi' e ai ka manao iloko. Ua luu iho nei an i ke kai nui; Nui ka ukiuki, paio o ka naau. 10 Aone kanaka eha ole i ke aloha. A wahine e oe, kanaka e au; He mau alualu ka ha'i e lawe. Ike aku i ke kula i'a o Ka-wai-nui. Nui ka opala ai o Moku-lana. 15 Lana ka limu pae hewa o Makau-wahine. O ka wahine no oe, o ke kane no ia. Hiki mai no la ia, na wai e uwe aku? Hoi mai no la ia, a ia wai e uwe aku? [Page 83] [Translation] _Song_ Methinks it is you, leaf plucked from Love's tree, You mayhap, that stirs my affection. There's a tremulous glance of the eye, The thought she might chance yet to come: 5 But who then would greet her with song? Your day has flown, your vision of her-- A time this for gnawing the heart. I've plunged just now in deep waters: Oh the strife and vexation of soul! 10 No mortal goes scathless of love. A wife thou estranged, I a husband estranged, Mere husks to be cast to the swine.[203] Look, the swarming of fish at the weir! Their feeding grounds on the reef 15 Are waving with mosses abundant. Thou art the woman, that one your man-- At her coming who'll greet her with song? Her returning, who shall console? [Footnote 203: In the original, _He mau alualu ka, ha'i e lawe_, literally "Some skins for another to take."] This song almost explains itself. It is the soliloquy of a lover estranged from his mistress. Imagination is alive in eye and ear to everything that may bring tidings of her, even of her unhoped-for return. Sometimes he speaks as if addressing the woman who has gone from him, or he addresses himself, or he personifies some one who speaks to him, as in the sixth line: "Your day has flown, ..." The memory of past vexation and anguish extorts the philosophic remark, "No mortal goes scathless of love." He gives over the past, seeks consolation in a new attachment--he dives, _lu'u_, into the great ocean, "deep waters," of love, at least in search of love. The old self (selves), the old love, he declares to be only _alualu_, empty husks. He--it is evidently a man--sets forth the wealth of comfort, opulence, that surrounds him in his new-found peace. The scene, being laid in the land Kailua, Oahu--the place to which the enchanted tree _Maka-léi_[204] was carried long ago, from which time its waters abounded in fish--fish are naturally the symbol of the opulence that now bless his life. But, in spite of the new-found peace and prosperity that attend him, there is a lonely corner in his heart; the old question echoes in its vacuum, "Who'll greet her with song? who shall console?" [Footnote 204: _Maka-léi_. (See note _b_, p. 17.)] [Page 84] _Mele_ O Ewa, aina kai ula i ka lepo, I ula i ka makani anu Moa'e, Ka manu ula i ka lau ka ai, I palahe'a ula i ke kai o Kuhi-á. 5 Mai kuhi mai oukou e, owau ke kalohe; Aohe na'u, na lakou no a pau. Aohe hewa kekahi keiki a ke kohe. Ei' a'e; oia no palm ia. I lono oukou ia wai, e, ua moe? 10 Oia kini poai o lakou la paha? Ike aku ia ka mau'u hina-hina-- He hina ko'u, he aka mai ko ia la. I aka mai oe i kou la manawa le'a; A manawa ino, nui mai ka nuku, 15 Hoomokapu, hoopale mai ka maka, Hoolahui wale mai i a'u nei. E, oia paha; ae, oia no paha ia. [Translation] _Song_ Ewa's lagoon is red with dirt-- Dust blown by the cool Moa'e, A plumage red on the taro leaf, An ocherous tint in the bay. 5 Say not in your heart that I am the culprit. Not I, but they, are at fault. No child of the womb is to blame. There goes, likely he is the one. Who was it blabbed of the bed defiled? 10 It must have been one of that band. But look at the rank grass beat down-- For my part, I tripped, the other one smiled. You smiled in your hour of pleasure; But now, when crossed, how you scold! 15 Avoiding the house, averting the eyes-- You make of me a mere stranger. Yes it's probably so, he's the one. A poem this full of local color. The plot of the story, as it may be interpreted, runs somewhat as follows: While the man of the house, presumably, is away, it would seem--fishing, perhaps, in the waters of Ewa's "shamrock lagoon"--the mistress sports with a lover. The culprit impudently defends himself with chaff and dust-throwing. The hoodlums, one of whom is himself the sinner, have been blabbing, says he. [Page 85] His accuser points to the beaten down _hina-hina_ grass as evidence against him. At this the brazen-faced culprit parries the stroke with a humorous euphemistic description, in which he plays on the word _hina_, to fall. Such verbal tilting in ancient Hawaii was practically a defense against a charge of moral obliquity as decisive and legitimate as was an appeal to arms in the times of chivalry. He euphemistically speaks of the beaten herbage as the result of his having tripped and fallen, at which, says he, the woman smiled, that is she fell in with his proposals. He gives himself away; but that doesn't matter. It requires some study to make out who is the speaker in the tit-for-tat of the dialogue. _Mele_ (Ai-ha'a) He lua i ka Hikina, Ua ena e Pele; Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; 5 Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; A ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owan no, o Pele, Nona i eli aku ka lua i Niihau a a. 10 He lua i Niihau, ua ena e Pele. He haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; A ninau o Wakea, 15 Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Kauai a a. He lua i Kauai ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, 20 Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-Ialo i akea; Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, 25 Nana i eli ka lua i Oahu a a. He lua i Oahu, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea; 30 A ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli ka lua i Molokai a a. [Page 86] He lua i Molokai, ua ena e Pele. 35 Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea. Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? 40 Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Lanai a a. He lua i Lanai, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; 45 Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo i akea. Ninau o Wakea, Owai nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Maul a a. 50 He lua i Maui, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea. Ninau o Wakea, 55 Owai, nei akua e eli nei? Owau no, o Pele, Nana i eli aku ka lua i Hu'ehu'e a a. He lua i Hu'ehu'e, ua ena e Pele. Ke haoloolo e la ke ao, 60 Ke lele la i-luna, i-lalo; Kawewe ka o-ó i-lalo, i akea. Eli-eli, kau mai! [Translation] _Song_ (In turgid style) A pit lies (far) to the East, Pit het by the Fire-queen Pele. Heaven's dawn is lifted askew, One edge tilts up, one down, in the sky; 5 The thud of the pick is heard in the ground. The question is asked by Wakea, What god's this a-digging? It is I, it is Pele, Who dug Mihau deep down till it burned, 10 Dug fire-pit red-heated by Pele. Night's curtains are drawn to one side, One lifts, one hangs in the tide. Crunch of spade resounds in the earth. Wakea 'gain urges the query, 15 What god plies the spade in the ground? Quoth Pele, 'tis I: [Page 87] I mined to the fire neath Kauai, On Kauai I dug deep a pit, A fire-well flame-fed by Pele. 20 The heavens are lifted aslant, One border moves up and one down; There's a stroke of o-ó 'neath the ground. Wakea, in earnest, would know, What demon's a-grubbing below? 25 I am the worker, says Pele: Oahu I pierced to the quick, A crater white-heated by Pele. Now morn lights one edge of the sky; The light streams up, the shadows fall down; 30 There's a clatter of tools deep down. Wakea, in passion, demands, What god this who digs 'neath the ground? It is dame Pele who answers; Hers the toil to dig down to fire, 35 To dig Molokai and reach fire. Now morning peeps from the sky With one eye open, one shut. Hark, ring of the drill 'neath the plain! Wakea asks you to explain, 40 What imp is a-drilling below? It is I, mutters Pele: I drilled till flame shot forth on Lanai, A pit candescent by Pele. The morning looks forth aslant; 45 Heaven's curtains roll up and roll down; There's a ring of o-ó 'neath the sod. Who, asks Wakea, the god, Who is this devil a-digging? 'Tis I, 'tis Pele, I who 50 Dug on Maui the pit to the fire: Ah, the crater of Maui, Red-glowing with Pele's own fire! Heaven's painted one side by the dawn, Her curtains half open, half drawn; 55 A rumbling is heard far below. Wakea insists he will know The name of the god that tremors the land. 'Tis I, grumbles Pele, I have scooped out the pit Hu'e-hu'e, 60 A pit that reaches to fire, A fire fresh kindled by Pele. Now day climbs up to the East; Morn folds the curtains of night; The spade of sapper resounds 'neath the plain: 65 The goddess is at it again! [Page 88] This mele comes to us stamped with the hall-mark of antiquity. It is a poem of mythology, but with what story it connects itself, the author knows not. The translation here given makes no profession of absolute, verbal literalness. One can not transfer a metaphor bodily, head and horns, from one speech to another. The European had to invent a new name for the boomerang or accept the name by which the Australian called it. The Frenchman, struggling with the English language, told a lady he was _gangrened_, he meant he was _mortified_. The cry for literalism is the cry for an impossibility; to put the chicken back into its shell, to return to the bows and arrows of the stone age. To make the application to the mele in question: the word _hu-olo-olo_, for example, which is translated in several different ways in the poem, is of such generic and comprehensive meaning that one word fails to express its meaning. It is, by the way, not a word to be found in any dictionary. The author had to grope his way to its meaning by following the trail of some Hawaiian pathfinder who, after beating about the bush, finally had to acknowledge that the path had become so much overgrown since he last went that way that he could not find it. The Arabs have a hundred or more words meaning sword--different kinds of swords. To them our word sword is very unspecific. Talk to an Arab of a sword--you may exhaust the list of special forms that our poor vocabulary compasses, straight sword, broadsword, saber, scimitar, yataghan, rapier, and what hot, and yet not hit the mark of Ms definition. _Mele_ Haku'i ka uahi o ka lua, pa i ka lani; Ha'aha'a Hawaii, moku o Keawe i hanau ia. Kiekie ke one o Maláma ia Lohiau, I a'e 'a mai e ke alii o Kahiki, 5 Nana i hele kai uli, kai ele, Kai popolo-hu'a a Kane, Ka wa i po'i ai ke Kai-a-ka-Mna-lii, Kai nu'u, kai lewa. Hoopua o Kane i ka la'i; 10 Pa uli-hiwa mai la ka uka o ke ahi a Laka, Oia wahine kihene lehua o Hopoe, Pu'e aku-o na hala, Ka hala o Panaewa, O Panaewa nui, moku lehua; 15 Ohia kupu ha-o'e-o'e; Lehua ula, i will ia e lie ahi. A po, e! Po Puna, po Hilo! Po i ka uahi o ku'u aina. 20 Ola ia kini! Ke a mai la ke ahi! [Page 89] [Translation] _Song_ A burst of smoke from the pit lifts to the skies; Hawaii's beneath, birth-land of Keawe; Malama's beach looms before Lohian, Where landed the chief from Kahiki, 5 From a voyage on the blue sea, the dark sea, The foam-mottled sea of Kane, What time curled waves of the king-whelming flood. The sea up-swells, invading the land-- Lo Kane, outstretched at his ease! 10 Smoke and flame o'ershadow the uplands, Conflagration by Laka, the woman Hopoe wreathed with flowers of lehua, Stringing the pandanus fruit. Screw-palms that clash in Pan'-ewa-- 15 Pan'-ewa, whose groves of lehua Are nourished by lava shag, Lehua that bourgeons with flame. Night, it is night O'er Puna and Hilo! 20 Night from the smoke of my land! For the people salvation! But the land is on fire! The Hawaiian who furnished the meles which, in their translated forms, are designated as canto I, canto II, and so on, spoke of them as _pále_, and, following his nomenclature, the term has been retained, though more intimate acquaintance with the meles and with the term has shown that the nearest English synonym to correspond with pale would be the word division. Still, perhaps with a mistaken tenderness for the word, the author has retained the caption Canto, as a sort of nodding recognition of the old Hawaiian's term--division of a poem. No idea is entertained that the five _pále_ above given were composed by the same bard, or that they represent productions from the same individual standpoint. They do, however, breathe a spirit much in common; so that when the old Hawaiian insisted that they are so far related to one another as to form a natural series for recitation in the hula, being species of the same genus, as it were, he was not far from the truth. The man's idea seemed to be that they were so closely related that, like beads of harmonious colors and shapes, they might be strung on the same thread without producing a dissonance. Of these five poems, or _pále_ (páh-lay), numbers I, II, and IV were uttered in a natural tone of voice, termed _kawele_, otherwise termed _ko'i-honua_. The purpose of this style of recitation was to adapt the tone to the necessities of the [Page 90] aged when their ears no longer heard distinctly. It would require an audiphone to illustrate perfectly the difference between this method of pronunciation and the _ai-ha'a_, which was employed in the recitation of cantos III and V. The _ai-ha'a_ was given in a strained and guttural tone. The poetical reciter and cantillator, whether in the halau or in the king's court, was wont to heighten the oratorical effect of his recitation by certain crude devices, the most marked of which was that of choking the voice down, as it were, into the throat, and there letting it strain and growl like a hungry lion. This was the ai-ha'a, whose organic function was the expression of the underground passions of the soul. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 33 PLATE VIII MAILE PAKAHA NIHI-AU-MOE MARIONETTES] [Page 91] XI.--THE HULA KI'I I was not a little surprised when I learned that the ancient hula repertory of the Hawaiians included a performance with marionettes, _ki'i_, dressed up to represent human beings. But before accepting the hula _ki'i_ as a product indigenous to Hawaii, I asked myself: Might not this be a performance in imitation of the Punch-and-Judy show familiar to Europe and America? After careful study of the question no evidence was found, other than what might be inferred from general resemblance, for the theory of adoption from a European or American origin. On the contrary, the words used as an accompaniment to the play agree with report and tradition, and bear convincing evidence in form, and matter to a Hawaiian antiquity. That is not to say, however, that in the use of marionettes the Hawaiians did not hark back to their ancestral homes in the southern sea or to a remoter past in Asia. The six marionettes, _ki'i_ (pls. VIII and IX), in the writer's possession were obtained from a distinguished kumu-hula, who received them by inheritance, as it were, from his brother. "He gave them to me," said he, "with these words,' Take care of these things, and when the time comes, after my death, that the king wants you to perform before him, be ready to fulfill his desire.'" It was in the reign of Kamehameha III that they came into the hands of the elder brother, who was then and continued to be the royal hula-master until his death. These ki'i have therefore figured in performances that have been graced by the presence of King Kauikeaouli (Kamehameha III) and his queen, Kalama, and by his successors since then down to the times of Kalakaua. At the so-called "jubilee," the anniversary of Kalakaua's fiftieth birthday, these marionettes were very much in evidence. The make-up and style of these ki'i are so similar that a description of one will serve for all six. This marionette represents the figure of a man, and was named _Maka-kú_ (pl. IX). The head is carved out of some soft wood--either kukui or wiliwili---which is covered, as to the hairy scalp, with a dark woven fabric much like broadcloth. It is encircled at the level of the forehead with a broad band of gilt braid, as if to ape the style of a soldier. The median line from the forehead over the vertex to the back-head is crested with the _mahiole_ ridge. This, taken in connection with the [Page 92] encircling gilt band, gives to the head a warlike appearance, somewhat as if it were armed with the classical helmet, the Hawaiian name for which is _mahi-ole_. The crest of the ridge and its points of junction with the forehead and back-head are decorated with fillets of wool dyed of a reddish color, in apparent imitation of the _mamo_ or _o-ó_, the birds whose feathers were used in decorating helmets, cloaks, and other regalia. The features are carved with some attempt at fidelity. The eyes are set with mother-of-pearl. The figure is of about one-third life size, and was originally draped, the author was told, in a loose robe, _holokú_ of tapa cloth of the sort known as _mahuna_, which is quite thin. This piece of tapa is perforated at short intervals with small holes, _kiko'i_. It is also stained with the juice from the bark of the root of the kukui tree, which imparts a color like that of copper, and makes the Hawaiians class it as _pa'ikukui_. A portion of its former, its original, apparel has been secured. The image is now robed in a holokú of yellow cotton, beneath which is an underskirt of striped silk in green and white. The arms are loosely jointed to the body. The performer in the hula, who stood behind a screen, by insinuating his hands under the clothing of the marionette, could impart to it such movements as were called for by the action of the play, while at the same time he repeated the words of his part, words supposed to be uttered by the marionette. The hula ki'i was, perhaps, the nearest approximation made by the Hawaiians to a genuine dramatic performance. Its usual instrument of musical accompaniment was the ipu, previously described. This drumlike object was handled by that division of the performers called the hoopa'a, who sat in full view of the audience manipulating the ipu in a quiet, sentimental manner, similar to that employed in the hula kuolo. As a sample of the stories illustrated in a performance of the hula ki'i the following may be adduced, the dramatis personae of which are four: 1. _Maka-kú_: a famous warrior, a rude, strong-handed braggart, as boastful as Ajax. 2. _Puapua-kea_, a small man, but brave and active. 3. _Maile-lau-lii_ (Small-leafed-maile), a young woman, who becomes the wife of Maka-ku. 4. _Maile-Pakaha_, the younger sister of Maile-lau-lii, who becomes the wife of Puapua-kea. Maka-kú, a rude and boastful son of Mars, at heart a bully, if not a coward, is represented as ever aching for a fight, in which his domineering spirit and rough-and-tumble ways for a time gave him the advantage over abler, but more modest, adversaries. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY, BULLETIN 38 PLATE IX MARIONETTE, MAKA-KÚ] [Page 93] Puapuakea, a man of genuine courage, hearing of the boastful achievements of Maka-kú, seeks him out and challenges him. At the first contest they fought with javelins, _ihe_, each one taking his turn according to lot in casting his javelins to the full tale of the prescribed number; after which the other contestant did the same. Neither was victorious. Next they fought with slings, each one having the right to sling forty stones at the other. In this conflict also neither one of them got the better of the other. The next trial was with stone-throwing. The result was still the same. Now it was for them to try the classical Hawaiian game of _lua_. This was a strenuous form of contest that has many features in common with the panathlion of the ancient Hellenes, some points in common with boxing, and still more, perhaps, partakes of the character of the grand art of combat, wrestling. Since becoming acquainted with the fine Japanese art of _jiu-jitsu_, the author recognizes certain methods that were shared by them both. But to all of these it added the wild privileges of choking, bone-breaking, dislocating, eye-gouging, and the infliction of tortures and grips unmentionable and disreputable. At first the conflict was in suspense, victory favoring neither party; but as the contest went on Puapuakea showed a slight superiority, and at the finish he had bettered Maka-kú by three points, or _ai_[205], as the Hawaiians uniquely term it. [Footnote 205: _Ai_, literally a food, a course.] The sisters, Maile-lau-lii and Maile-pakaha, who had been interested spectators of the contest, conceived a passionate liking for the two warriors and laid their plans in concert to capture them for themselves. Fortunately their preferences were not in conflict. Maile-lau-lii set her affections on Maka-ku, while the younger sister devoted herself to Pua-pua-kea. The two men had previously allowed their fancies to range abroad at pleasure; but from this time they centered their hearts on these two Mailes and settled down to regular married life. Interest in the actual performance of the hula ki'i was stimulated by a resort to byplay and buffoonery. One of the marionettes, for instance, points to some one in the audience; whereupon one of the _hoopaa_ asks, "What do you want?" The marionette persists in its pointing. At length the interlocutor, as if divining the marionette's wish, says: "Ah, you want So-and-so." At this the marionette nods assent, and the hoopaa asks again, "Do you wish him to come to you?" The marionette expresses its delight and approval by nods and gestures, to the immense satisfaction of the audience, who join in derisive laughter at the expense of the person held up to ridicule. Besides the marionettes already named among the characters found in the different hula-plays of the hula ki'i, the [Page 94] author has heard mention of the following marionettes: _Ku, Kini-ki'i, Hoo-lehelehe-ki'i, Ki'i-ki'i_, and _Nihi-aumoe_. Nihi-aumoe was a man without the incumbrance of a wife, an expert in the arts of intrigue and seduction. Nihi-aumoe is a word of very suggestive meaning, to walk softly at midnight. In Judge Andrews's dictionary are found the following pertinent Hawaiian verses apropos of the word _nihi_: E hoopono ka hele i ka uka o Puna; E _nihi_ ka hele, mai hoolawehala, Mai noho a ako i ka pua, o hewa, O inaina ke Akua, paa ke alanui, Aole ou ala e hiki aku ai. [Translation] Look to your ways in upland Puna; Walk softly, commit no offense; Dally not, nor pluck the flower sin; Lest God in anger bar the road, And you find no way of escape. The marionette Ki'i-ki'i was a strenuous little fellow, an _ilamuku_, a marshal, or constable of the king. It was his duty to carry out with unrelenting rigor the commands of the alii, whether they bade him take possession of a taro patch, set fire to a house, or to steal upon a man at dead of night and dash out his brains while he slept. Referring to the illustrations (pl. VIII), a judge of human nature can almost read the character of the libertine Nihi-aumoe written in his features--the flattened vertex, indicative of lacking reverence and fear, the ruffian strength of the broad face; and if one could observe the reverse of the picture he would note the flattened back-head, a feature that marks a large number of Hawaiian crania. The songs that were cantillated to the hula ki'i express in some degree the peculiar libertinism of this hula, which differed from all others by many removes. They may be characterized as gossipy, sarcastic, ironical, scandal-mongering, dealing in satire, abuse, hitting right and left at social and personal vices--a cheese of rank flavor that is not to be partaken of too freely. It might be compared to the vaudeville in opera or to the genre picture in art. _Mele_ E Wewehi, ke, ke! Wewehi oiwi, ke, ke! Punana[206] i ka luna, ke, ke! Hoonoho kai-oa[207] ke, ke! [Page 95] 5 Oluna ka wa'a[208], ke, ke! O kela wa'a, ke, ke! O keia wa'a, ke, ke! Ninau o Mawi[209], ke, ke! Nawai ka luau'i?[209] ke, ke! 10 Na Wewehi-loa[210], ke, ke! 10 Ua make Wewehi, ke, ke! Ua ku i ka ihe, ke, ke! Ma ka puka kahiko[211] ke, ke! Ka puka a Mawi, ke, ke! 15 Ka lepe, ka lepe, la! 15 Ka lepe, ua hina a uwe! Ninau ka lepe, la! Mana-mana lii-lii, Mana-mana heheiao, 20 Ke kumu o ka lepe? 20 Ka lepe hiolo, e? [Footnote 206: _Punana_. Literally a nest; here a raised couch on the _pola_, which was a sheltered platform in the waist of a double canoe, corresponding to our cabin, for the use of chiefs and other people of distinction.] [Footnote 207: _Kai-oa_. The paddle-men; here a euphemism.] [Footnote 208: _Wa'a_. A euphemism for the human body.] [Footnote 209: _Mawi_. The hero of Polynesian mythology, whose name is usually spelled _Maui_, like the name of the island. Departure from the usual orthography is made in order to secure phonetic accuracy. The name of the hero is pronounced _Máh-wee_, not _Mów-ee_, as is the island. Sir George Gray, of New Zealand, following the usual orthography, has given a very full and interesting account of him in his Polynesian mythology.] [Footnote 210: _Wewehi-loa_. Another name for _Wahie-loa_, who is said to have been the grandfather of Wewehi. The word _luau'i_ in the previous verse, meaning real father, is an archaic form. Another form is _kua-u'i_.] [Footnote 211: _Puka kahiko_. A strange story from Hawaiian mythology relates that originally the human anatomy was sadly deficient in that the terminal gate of the _primae viæ_ was closed. Mawi applied his common-sense surgery to the repair of the defect and relieved the situation. _Ua olelo ia i kinahi ua hana ia kanaka me ka hemahema no ka nele i ka hou puka ole ia ka okole, a na Mawi i hoopau i keia pilikia mamuli o kana hana akamai. Ua kapa ia keia puka ka puka kahiko._] [Translation] _Song_ O Wewehi, la, la! Wewehi, peerless form, la, la! Encouched on the pola, la, la! Bossing the paddlers, la, la! 5 Men of the canoe, la, la! 5 Of that canoe, la, la! Of this canoe, la, la! Mawi inquires, la, la! Who was her grand-sire? la, la! 10 'Twas Wewehi-loa, la, la! 10 Wewehi is dead, la, la! Wounded with spear, la, la! The same old wound, la, la! Wound made by Mawi, la, la! [Page 96] 15 The flag, lo the flag! 15 The flag weeps at half-mast! The flag, indeed, asks-- Many, many the flags, A scandal for number. 20 Why are they overturned? 20 Why their banners cast down? The author has met with several variants to this mele, which do not greatly change its character. In one of these variants the following changes are to be noted: Line 4. Pikaka[212] e ka luna, ke, ke! Line 5. Ka luna o ka hale, ke, ke! Line 8. Ka puka o ka hale, a ke, ke! Line 9. E noho i anei, a ke, ke! To attempt a translation of these lines which are unadulterated slang: Line 4. The roof is a-dry, la, la! Line 5. The roof of the house, la, la! Line 8. The door of the house, la, la! Line 9. Turn in this way, la, la! [Footnote 212: _Pikaka_ (full form _pikakao_). Dried up, juiceless.] The one who supplied the above lines expressed inability to understand their meaning, averring that they are "classical Hawaiian," meaning, doubtless, that they are archaic slang. As to the ninth line, the practice of "sitting in the door" seems to have been the fashion with such folk as far back as the time of Solomon. Let us picture this princess of Maui, this granddaughter of Wahieloa, Wewehi, as a Helen, with all of Helen's frailty, a flirt-errant, luxurious in life, quickly deserting one lover for the arms of another; yet withal of such humanity and kindness of fascination that, at her death, or absence, all things mourned her--not as Lycidas was mourned: "With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head, ............................................. And daffodillies fill their cups with tears," but in some rude pagan fashion; all of which is wrought out and symbolized in the mele with such imagery as is native to the mind of the savage. The attentive reader will not need be told that, as in many another piece out of Hawaii's old-time legends, the path through this song is beset with euphuistic stumbling blocks. The purpose of language, says Talleyrand, is to conceal thought. The veil in this case is quite gauzy. The language of the following song for the marionette dance, hula ki'i, as in the one previously given, is mostly of that [Page 97] kind which the Hawaiians term _olelo kapékepéke_, or _olelo huná_, shifty talk, or secret talk. We might call it slang, though, it is not slang in the exact sense in which we use that word, applying it to the improvised counters of thought that gain currency in our daily speech until they find admission to the forum, the platform, and the dictionary. It is rather a cipher-speech, a method of concealing one's meaning from all but the initiated, of which the Hawaiian, whether alii or commoner, was very fond. The people of the hula were famous for this sort of accomplishment and prided themselves not a little in it as an effectual means of giving appropriate flavor and gusto to their performances. _Mele_ Ele-ele kau-kau;[213] Ka hala-le,[214] e kau-kau, Ka e-ele ihi, Ele ihi, ele a, 5 Ka e-ele ku-pou;[215] Ku-pou. Ka hala, e![216] [Translation] _Song_ Point to a dark one, Point to a dainty piece, A delicate morsel she! Very choice, very hot! 5 She that stoops over-- Aye stoops! Lo, the hala fruit! The translation has to be based largely on conjecture. The author of this bit of fun-making, which is couched in old-time slang, died without making known the key to his cipher, and no one whom the present writer has met with is able to unravel its full meaning. [Footnote 213: _Kau-kau_. Conjectural meaning to point out some one in the audience, as the marionettes often did. People were thus sometimes inveigled in behind the curtain.] [Footnote 214: _Hala-le_. Said to mean a sop, with which one took up the juice or gravy of food; a choice morsel.] [Footnote 215: _Ku-pou_. To stoop over, from devotion to one's own pursuits, from modesty, or from shame.] [Footnote 216: The meaning of this line has been matter for much conjecture. The author has finally adopted the suggestion embodied in the translation here given, which is a somewhat gross reference to the woman's physical charms.] The following mele for the hula ki'i, in language colored by the same motive, was furnished by an accomplished practitioner who had traveled far and wide in the practice of her art, having been one of a company of hula dancers that attended the Columbian exposition in Chicago. It was her good [Page 98] fortune also to reach the antipodes in her travels, and it was at Berlin, she says, that she witnessed for the first time the European counterpart of the hula ki'i, the "Punch and Judy" show: _Mele no ka Hula Ki'i_ E le'e kau-kau, kala le'e; E le'e kau-kau. E le'e kau-kau, kala le'e. E lepe kau-kau. 5 E o-ku ana i kai; E u-au ai aku; E u-au ai aku; E u-au ai aku! E-he-he, e! [Translation.] _Song for the Hula Ki'i_ Now for the dance, dance in accord; Prepare for the dance. Now for the dance, dance in time. Up, now, with the flag! 5 Step out to the right Step out to the left! Ha, ha, ha! This translation is the result of much research, yet its absolute accuracy can not be vouched for. The most learned authorities (_kaka-olelo_) in old Hawaiian lore that have been found by the writer express themselves as greatly puzzled at the exact meaning of the mele just given. Some scholars, no doubt, would dub these nonsense-lines. The author can not consent to any such view. The old Hawaiians were too much in earnest to permit themselves to juggle with words in such fashion. They were fond of mystery and concealment, appreciated a joke, given to slang, but to string a lot of words together without meaning, after the fashion of a college student who delights to relieve his mind by shouting "Upidee, upida," was not their way. "The people of the hula," said one man, "had ways of fun-making peculiar to themselves." When the hula-dancer who communicated to the author the above song--a very accomplished and intelligent woman--was asked for information that would render possible its proper translation, she replied that her part was only that of a mouthpiece to repeat the words and to make appropriate gestures, _he pono hula wale no_, mere parrot-work. The language, she said, was such "classic" Hawaiian as to be beyond her understanding. [Page 99] Here, again, is another song in argot, a coin of the same mintage as those just given: _Mele_ E kau-kau i hale manu, e! Ike oe i ka lola huluhulu, e? I ka huluhulu a we'uwe'u, e? I ka punohu,[217] e, a ka la e kau nei? 5 Walea ka manu i ka wai, e! I ka wai lohi o ke kini, e! [Translation] _Song_ Let's worship now the bird-cage. Seest thou the furzy woodland, The shag of herb and forest, The low earth-tinting rainbow, 5 Child of the Sun that swings above? O, happy bird, to drink from the pool, A bliss free to the million! [Footnote 217: _Punohu_. A compact mass of clouds, generally lying low in the heavens; a cloud-omen; also a rainbow that lies close to the earth, such as is formed when the sun is high in the heavens.] This is the language of symbolism. When Venus went about to ensnare Adonis, among her other wiles she warbled to him of mountains, dales, and pleasant fountains. The mele now presented is of an entirely different character from those that have just preceded. It is said to have been the joint composition of the high chief Keiki-o-ewa of Kauai, at one time the kahu of Prince Moses, and of Kapihe, a distinguished poet--haku-mele--and prophet. (To Kapihe is ascribed the prophetic and oracular utterance, _E iho ana o luna, e pii ana o lalo; e ku ana ka paia; e moe ana kaula; e kau ana kau-huhu--o lani iluna, o honua ilalo_--"The high shall be brought low, the lowly uplifted; the defenses shall stand; the prophet shall lie low; the mountain walls shall abide--heaven above, earth beneath.") This next poem may be regarded as an epithalamium, the celebration of the mystery and bliss of the wedding night, the _hoáo ana_ of a high chief and his high-born _kapu_ sister. The murmur of the breeze, the fury of the winds, the heat of the sun, the sacrificial ovens, all are symbols that set forth the emotions, experiences, and mysteries of the night: [Page 100] _Mele_ (Ko'ihonua) O Wanahili[218] ka po loa ia Manu'a,[219] O ka pu kau kama[220] i Hawaii akea; O ka pu leina[221] kea a Kiha-- O Kiha nui a Pii-lani--[222] 5 O Kauhi kalana-honu'-a-Kama;[223] O ka maka iolena[224] ke koohaulani i-ó! O kela kanaka hoali mauna,[225] O Ka Lani ku'i hono i ka moku.[226] I waihona kapuahi kanaka ehá,[227] 10 Ai' i Kauai, i Oahu, i Maui, I Hawaii kahiko o Keawe enaena,[228] Ke a-á, mai la me ke o-koko, Ke lapa-lapa la i ka makani, Makani kua, he Naulu.[229] 10 Kua ka Wainoa i ka Mikioi, [Page 101] Pu-á ia lalo o Hala-li'i, [230] Me he alii, alii, la no ka hele i Kekaha, Ka hookiekie i ka li'u-la,[231] Ka hele i ke alia-lia la, alia! 20 Alia-lia la'a-laau Kekaha. Ke kaha o Kala-ihi, Wai-o-lono. Ke olo la ke pihe a ka La, e! Ke nu la paha i Honua-ula. [Footnote 218: _Wanahili_. A princess of the mythological period belonging to Puna, Hawaii.] [Footnote 219: _Manu'a_. A king of Hilo, the son of Kane-hili, famous for his skill in spear-throwing, _maika_-rolling, and all athletic exercises. He was united in marriage, _ho-ao_, to the lovely princess Wanahili. Tradition deals with Manua as a very lovable character.] [Footnote 220: _Pu kau kama_. The conch (pu) is figured as the herald of fame. _Kau_ is used in the sense of to set on high, in contrast with such a word as _waiho_, to set down. _Kama_ is the word of dignity for children.] [Footnote 221: _Pu leina_. It is asserted on good authority that the triton (_pu_), when approached in its ocean habitat, will often make sudden and extraordinary leaps in an effort to escape. There is special reference here to the famous conch known in Hawaiian story as _Kiha-pu_. It was credited with supernatural powers as a _kupua_. During the reign of Umi, son of Liloa, it was stolen from the _heiau_ in Waipio valley and came into the hands of god Kane. In his wild awa-drinking revels the god terrified Umi and his people by sounding nightly blasts with the conch. The shell was finally restored to King Umi by the superhuman aid of the famous dog Puapua-lena-lena.] [Footnote 222: _Kiha-nui a Piilani_. Son of Piilani, a king of Maui. He is credited with the formidable engineering work of making a paved road over the mountain palis of Koolau, Maui.] [Footnote 223: _Kauhi kalana-honu'-a-Kama_. This Kauhi, as his long title indicates, was the son of the famous king, Kama-lala-walu, and succeeded his father in the kingship over Maui and, probably, Lanai. Kama-lala-walu had a long and prosperous reign, which ended, however, in disaster. Acting on the erroneous reports of his son Kauhi, whom he had sent to spy out the land, he invaded the kingdom of Lono-i-ka-makahiki on Hawaii, was wounded and defeated in battle, taken prisoner, and offered up as a sacrifice on the altar of Lono's god, preferring that death, it is said, to the ignominy of release.] [Footnote 224: _I-olena_. Roving, shifty, lustful.] [Footnote 225: _Kanaka hoali mauna_. Man who moved mountains; an epithet of compliment applied perhaps to Kiha, above mentioned, or to the king mentioned in the next verse, Kekaulike.] [Footnote 226: _Ku'i hono i ka moku_. Who bound together into one (state) the islands Maui, Molokai, Lanai, and Kahoolawe. This was, it is said, Kekaulike, the fifth king of Maui after Kama-lala-walu. At his death he was succeeded by Kamehameha-nui--to be distinguished from the Kamehameha of Hawaii--and he in turn by the famous warrior-king Kahekili, who routed the invading army of Kalaniopuu, king of Hawaii, on the sand plains of Wailuku.] [Footnote 227: _I waihona kapuahi kanaka ehá_. This verse presents grammatical difficulties. The word _I_ implies the imperative, a form of request or demand, though that is probably not the intent. It seems to be a means, authorized by poetical license, of ascribing honor and tabu-glory to the name of the person eulogized, who, the context leads the author to think, was Kekaulike. The island names other than that of Maui seem to have been thrown in for poetical effect, as that king, in the opinion of the author, had no power over Kauai, Oahu, or Hawaii. The purpose may have been to assert that his glory reached to those islands.] [Footnote 228: _Keawe enaena_. Keawe, whose tabu was hot as a burning oven. Presumably Keawe, the son of Umi, is the one meant.] [Footnote 229: _Naulu_. The sea-breeze at Waimea, Kauai.] [Footnote 230: _Hala-lii_. A sandy plain on Niihau, where grows a variety of sugar-cane that lies largely covered by the loose soil, _ke ko eli o Hala-lii_.] [Footnote 231: _Li'u-la_. The mirage, a common phenomenon on Niihau, and especially at Mana, on Kauai.] [Translation] _Song_ (Distinct utterance) Wanahili bides the whole night with Manu'a, By trumpet hailed through broad Hawaii, By the white vaulting conch of Kiha-- Great Kiha, offspring of Pii-lani, 5 Father of eight-branched Kama-lala-walu The far-roaming eye now sparkles with joy, Whose energy erstwhile shook mountains, The king who firm-bound the isles in one state, His glory, symboled by four human altars, 10 Reaches Kauai, Oahu, Maui, Hawaii the eld of Keawe, Whose tabu, burning with blood-red blaze, Shoots flame-tongues that leap with the wind, The breeze from the mountain, the Naulu. 15 Waihoa humps its back, while cold Mikioi Blows fierce and swift across Hala-li'i. It vaunts like a king at Kekaha, Flaunting itself in the sun's heat, And lifts itself up in mirage, 20 Ghost-forms of woods and trees in Kekaha-- Sweeping o'er waste Kala-ihi, Water-of-Lono; While the sun shoots forth its fierce rays-- Its heat, perchance, reaches to Honua-ula. The mele next given takes its local color from Kauai and brings vividly to mind the experiences of one who has climbed the mountain walls _pali_, that buffet the winds of its northern coast. _Mele_ Kalalau, pali eku i ka makani; Pu ka Lawa-kua,[232] hoi mau i Kolo-kini; Nu a anahulu ka pa ana i-uka-- Anahulu me na po keu elua. [Page 102] 5 Elua Hono-pu o ia kua kanaka; Elua Ko'a-mano[233] me Wai-aloha, Ka pali waha iho, waha iho[234] me ke kua; Ke keiki puu iloko o ka pali nui. E hii an'[235] e Makua i Kalalau. [Footnote 232: Laiea-kua. A wind in Kalalau that blows for a time from the mountains and then, it is said, veers to the north, so that it comes from the direction of a secondary valley, Kolo-kini, a branch of Kalalau. The bard describes it as continuing to blow for twelve nights before It shifts, an instance, probably, of poetic license.] [Footnote 233: _Ko'a-mano_. A part of the ocean into which the stream Wai-aloha falls.] [Footnote 234: _Waha iho_. With mouth that yawns downward, referring, doubtless, to the overarching of the _pali_, precipice. The same figure is applied to the back (_kua_) of the traveler who climbs it.] [Footnote 235: Elision of the final _a_ in _ana_.] [Translation] _Song_ The mountain walls of Kalalau Buffet the blasts of Lawa-kau, That surge a decade of nights and twain; Then, wearied, it veers to the north. 5 Two giant backs stand the cliffs Hono-pu; The falls Wai-aloha mate with the sea: An overhung pali--the climber's back swings in Its mouth--to face it makes one a child-- Makua, whose arms embrace Kalalau. The mind of the ancient bard was so narrowly centered on the small plot his imagination cultivated that he disregarded the outside world, forgetting that it could not gaze upon the scenes which filled his eyes. The valley of Kalalau from its deep recess in the northwestern coast of Kauai looks out upon the heaving waters of the Pacific. The mountain walls of the valley are abrupt, often overhanging. Viewed from the ocean, the cliffs are piled one upon another like the buttresses of a Gothic cathedral. The ocean is often stormy, and during several months in the year forbids intercourse with other parts of the island, save as the hardy traveler makes his way along precipitous mountain trails. The hula _ala'a-papa_, hula _ipu_, hula _pa-ipu_ (or _kuolo_), the hula _hoo-naná_, and the hula _ki'i_ were all performed to the accompaniment of the ipu or calabash, and, being the only ones that were so accompanied, if the author is correctly informed, they may be classed together under one head as the calabash hulas. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE X PAHU HULA, HULA DRUM] [Page 103] XII.--THE HULA PAHU The hula _pahu_ was so named from the _pahu_,[236] or drum, that was its chief instrument of musical accompaniment (pl. x). [Footnote 236: Full form, _pahu-hula_.] It is not often that the story of an institution can be so closely fitted to the landmarks of history as in the case of this hula; and this comes about through our knowledge of the history of the pahu itself. Tradition, direct and reliable, informs us that the credit of introducing the big drum belongs to La'a. This chief flourished between five and six centuries ago, and from having spent most of his life in the lands to the south, which the ancient Hawaiians called Kahiki, was himself generally styled La'a-mai-Kahiki (La'a-from-Kahiki). The young man was of a volatile disposition, given to pleasure, and it is evident that the big drum he brought with him to Hawaii on one of his voyages from Kahiki was in his eyes by no means the least important piece of baggage that freighted his canoes. On nearing the land he waked the echoes with the stirring tones of his drum, which so astonished the people that they followed him from point to point along the coast and heaped favors upon him whenever he came ashore. La'a was an enthusiastic patron of the hula and is said to have made a tour of the islands, in which he instructed the natives in new forms of this seductive pastime, one of which was the hula _ka-eke_. There is reason to believe, it seems, that the original use of the pahu was in connection with the services of the temple, and that its adaptation to the halau was simply a transference from one to another religious use. The hula pahu was preeminently a performance of formal and dignified character, not such as would be extemporized for the amusement of an irreverent company. Like all the formal hulas, it was tabu, by which the Hawaiians meant that it was a religious service, or so closely associated with the notion of worship as to make it an irreverence to trifle with it. For this reason as well as for its intrinsic dignity its performance was reserved for the most distinguished guests and the most notable occasions. Both classes of actors took part in the performance of the hula pahu, the olapa contributing the mele as they stood and went through the motions of the dance, while the hoopaa maintained the kneeling position and operated the big drum with the left hand. While his left hand was thus engaged, the [Page 104] musician with a thong held in his right hand struck a tiny drum, the _pu-niu_, that was conveniently strapped to the thigh of the same side. As its name signifies, the pu-niu was made from coconut shell, being headed with fish-skin. The harmonious and rhythmic timing of these two instruments called for strict attention on the part of the performer. The pahu, having a tone of lower pitch and greater volume than the other, was naturally sounded at longer intervals, while the pu-niu delivered its sharp crisp tones in closer order. _Mele_ (Ko'i-honua) O Hilo oe, Hilo, muliwai a ka ua i ka lani, I hana ia Hilo, ko-í ana e ka ua. E haló ko Hilo ma i-o, i-anei; Lenalena Hilo e, panopano i ka ua. 5 Ua lono Pili-keko o Hilo i ka wai; O-kakala ka hulu o Hilo i ke anu; Ua ku o ka paka a ka ua i ke one; Ua moe oni ole Hilo i-luna ke alo; Ua hana ka uluna lehu o Hana-kahi. 10 Haule ka onohi Hilo o ka ua i ke one; Loku kapa ka hi-hilo kai o Pai-kaka. Ha, e! 2 A Puna au, i Kuki'i au, i Ha'eha'e, Ike au i ke a kino-lau lehua. He laau malalo o ia pohaku. Hanohano Puna e, kehakeha i ka ua, 5 Káhiko mau no ia no-laila. He aina haaheo loa no Puna; I haaheo i ka hala me ka lehua; He maikai maluna, he a malalo; He kelekele ka papa o Mau-kele. 10 Kahuli Apua e, kele ana i Mau-kele. [Translation] _Song_ (Bombastic style) Thou art Hilo, Hilo, flood-gate of heaven. Hilo has power to wring out the rain. Let Hilo turn here and turn there; Hilo's kept from employ, somber with rain; 5 Pili-keko roars with full stream; The feathers of Hilo bristle with cold, And her hail-stones smite on the sand. She lies without motion, with upturned face, The fire-places pillowed with ashes; 10 The bullets of rain are slapping the land, Pitiless rain turmoiling Pai-kaka. So, indeed. [Page 105] 2 In Puna was I, in Ku-ki'i, in Ha'e-ha'e, I saw a wraith of lehua, a burning bush, A fire-tree beneath the lava plate. Magnificent Puna, fertile from rain, 5 At all times weaving its mantle. Aye Puna's a land of splendor, Proudly bedight with palm and lehua; Beauteous above, but horrid below, And miry the plain of Mau-kele. 10 Apua upturned, plod on to Mau-kele. _Mele_ Kau lilua i ke anu Wai-aleale; He maka halalo ka lehua makanoe;[237] He lihilihi kuku ia no Aipo,[238] e; O ka hulu a'a ia o Hau-a-iliki;[239] 5 Ua pehi 'a e ka ua a éha ka nahele, Maui ka pua, uwe éha i ke anu, I ke kukuna la-wai o Mokihana.[240] Ua hana ia aku ka pono a ua pololei; Ua hai 'na ia aku no ia oe; 10 O ke ola no ia. O kia'i loko, kia'i Ka-ula,[241] Nana i ka makani, hoolono ka leo, Ka halulu o ka Malua-kele;[242] Kiei, halo i Maka-ike-ole. 15 Kamau ke ea i ka halau[243] a ola; He kula lima ia no Wawae-noho,[244] Me he puko'a hakahaka la i Waahila Ka momoku a ka unu-lehua o Lehua. A lehulehu ka hale pono ka noho ana, 20 Loaa kou haawina--o ke aloha, Ke hauna[245] mai nei ka puka o ka hale. Ea! [Footnote 237: _Lehua makanoe_. The lehua trees that grow on the top of Wai-aleale, the mountain mass of Kauai, are of peculiar form, low, stunted, and so furzy as to be almost thorny, _kuku_, as mentioned in the next line.] [Footnote 238: _Ai-po_. A swamp that occupies the summit basin of the mountain, in and about which the thorny lehua trees above mentioned stand as a fringe.] [Footnote 239: _Hau-a-iliki_. A word made up of _hau_, dew or frost, and _iliki_, to smite. The _a_ is merely a connective.] [Footnote 240: _Mokihana_. The name of a region on the flank of Wai-aleale, also a plant that grows there, whose berry is fragrant and is used in making wreaths.] [Footnote 241: _Ka-ula_. A small rocky island visible from Kauai.] [Footnote 242: _Malua-kele_. A wind.] [Footnote 243: _Halau_. The shed or house which sheltered the canoe, _wa'a_, which latter, as we have seen, was often used figuratively to mean the human body, especially the body of a woman. _Kamau ke ea i ka halau_ might be translated "persistent the breath from her body." "There's kames o' hinny 'tween my luve's lips."] [Footnote 244: _Wawae-noho_. Literally the foot that abides; it is the name of a place. Here it is to be understood as meaning constancy. It is an instance in which the concrete stands for the abstract.] [Footnote 245: _Hauna_. An odor. In this connection it means the odor that hangs about a human habitation. The hidden allusion, it is needless to say, is to sexual attractiveness.] [Page 106] [Translation] _Song_ Wai-aleale stands haughty and cold, Her lehua bloom, fog-soaked, droops pensive; The thorn-fringe set ahout swampy Ai-po is A feather that flaunts in spite of the pinching frost. 5 Her herbage is pelted, stung by the rain; Bruised all her petals, and moaning in cold Mokihana's sun, his wat'ry beams. I have acted in good faith and honor, My complaint is only to you-- 10 A matter that touches my life. Best watch within and toward Ka-ula; Question each breeze, note every rumor, Even the whisper of Malua-kele. Search high and search low, unobservant. 15 There is life in the breath from her body, Fond caress by a hand not inconstant. Like fissured groves of coral Stand the ragged clumps of lehua. Many the houses, easy the life. 20 You have your portion--of love; Humanity smells at the door. Aye, indeed. The imagery of this poem is peculiarly obscure and the meaning difficult of translation. The allusions are so local and special that their meaning does not carry to a distance. Wai-aleale is the central mountain mass of Kauai, about 6,000 feet high. Its summit, a cold, fog-swept wilderness of swamp and lake beset with dwarfish growths of lehua, is used as the symbol of a woman, impulsively kind, yet in turn passionate and disdainful. The physical attributes of the mountain are ascribed to her, its spells of frosty coldness, its gloom and distance, its fickleness of weather, the repellant hirsuteness of the stunted vegetation that fringes the central swamp--these things are described as symbols of her temper, character, and physical make-up. The bloom and herbage of the wilderness, much pelted by the storm, are figures to represent her physical charms. But spite of all these faults and imperfections, a perennial fragrance, as of mokihana, clings to her person, and she is the object of devoted love, capable of weaving the spell of fascination about her victims. This poem furnishes a good example of a peculiarity that often is an obstacle to the understanding of Hawaiian poetry. It is the breaking up of the composition into a number of parts that have but a loose seeming connection the one with the other. [Illustration: BULLETIN 38 PLATE XI ÚLI-ULÍ, A GOURD RATTLE] [Page 107] XIII.--THE HULA ÚLI-ULÍ The hula _úli-ulí_ was so called from the rattle which was its sole instrument of accompaniment. This consisted of a small gourd about the size of a large orange, into the cavity of which were put shot-like seeds, like those of the canna; a handle was then attached (pl. xi). The actors who took part in this hula belonged, it is said, to the class termed hoopaa, and went through with the performance while kneeling or squatting, as has been described. While cantillating the mele they held the rattle, _úli-ulí_, in the right hand, shaking it against the palm of the other hand or the thigh, or making excursions in one direction and another. In some performances of this hula which the author has witnessed the olapa also took part, in one case a woman, who stood and cantillated the song with movement and gesture, while the hoopaa devoted themselves exclusively to handling the úli-ulí rattles. The sacrificial offerings that preceded the old-time performances of this hula are said to have been awa and a roast porkling, in honor of the goddess Laka. If the dignity and quality of the meles now used, or reported to have been used, in the hula _úli-ulí_ are to be taken as any criterion of the quality and dignity of this hula, one has to conclude that it must be assigned to a rank below that of some others, such, for instance, as the _ala'a-papa_, _pa-ipu_, _Pele_, and others. David Malo, the Hawaiian historian, author of _Ka Moolelo Hawaii_,[246] in the short chapter that he devotes to the hula, mentions only ten hulas by name, the _ka-laau_, _pa'i-umauma_, _pahu_, _pahu'a_, _ala'a-papa_, _pa'i-pa'i_, _pa-ipu_, _ulili_, _kolani_, and the _kielei_. _Ulili_ is but another form of the word _úli-ulí_. Any utterance of Malo is to be received seriously; but it seems doubtful if he deliberately selected for mention the ten hulas that were really the most important. It seems more probable that he set down the first ten that stood forth prominent in his memory. It was not Malo's habit, nor part of his education, to make an exhaustive list of sports and games, or in fact of anything. He spoke of what occurred to him. It must also be remembered that, being an ardent convert to Christianity, [Page 108] Malo felt himself conscience-bound to set himself in opposition to the amusements, sports, and games of his people, and he was unable, apparently, to see in them any good whatsoever. Malo was a man of uncompromising honesty and rigidity of principles. His nature, acting under the new influences that surrounded him after the introduction of Christianity, made it impossible for him to discriminate calmly between the good and the pernicious, between the purely human and poetic and the depraved elements in the sports practised by his people during their period of heathenism. There was nothing halfway about Malo. Having abandoned a system, his nature compelled him to denounce it root and branch. [Footnote 246: Translated by N.B. Emerson, M.D., under the title "Hawaiian Antiquities," and published by the B.P. Bishop Museum. Hawaiian Gazette Company (Limited), Honolulu, 1903.] The first mele here offered as an accompaniment to this hula can boast of no great antiquity; it belongs to the middle of the nineteenth century, and was the product of some gallant at a time when princes and princesses abounded in Hawaii: _Mele_ Aole i manao ia. Kahi wai a o Alekoki. Hookohu ka ua i uka, Noho mai la i Nuuanu. 5 Anuanu, makehewa au Ke kali ana i-laila. Ea ino paha ua paa Kou manao i ane'i, Au i hoomalu ai. 10 Hoomalu oe a malu; Ua malu keia kino Mamuli a o kou leo. Kau nui aku ka manao Kani wai a o Kapena. 15 Pani'a paa ia mai Na manowai a o uka; Ahu wale na ki'owai, Na papa-hale o luna. Maluna a'e no wau, 20 Ma ke kuono liilii. A waho, a o Mamala, Hao mai nei ehu-ehu; Pulu au i ka huna-kai, Kai heahea i ka ili. 25 Hookahi no koa nui, Nana e alo ia ino. Ino-ino mai nei luna, I ka hao a ka makani. He makani ahai-lono; 30 Lohe ka luna i Pelekane. O ia pouli nui Mea ole i ku'u manao. I o, i a-ne'i au, Ka piina la o Ma'ema'e, [Page 109] 35 E kilohi au o ka nani Na pua i Mauna-ala. He ala ona-ona kou, Ke pili mai i ane'i, O a'u lehua ula i-luna, 40 Ai ono a na manu. [Translation] _Song_ I spurn the thought with disdain Of that pool Alekoki: On the upland lingers the rain And fondly haunts Nuuanu. 5 Sharp was the cold, bootless My waiting up there. I thought thou wert true, Wert loyal to me, Whom thou laids't under bonds. 10 Take oath now and keep it; This body is sacred to thee, Bound by the word of thy mouth. My heart leaps up at thought Of the pool, pool of Kapena; 15 To me it is fenced, shut off, The water-heads tightly sealed up. The fountains must be a-hoarding, For skies are ever down-pouring; The while I am lodged up aloft, 20 Bestowed in the cleft of a rock. Now, tossed by sea at Mamala, The wind drives wildly the surf; I'm soaked with the scud of the ocean, My body is rough with the rime. 25 But one stout hero and soldier, With heart to face such a storm. Wild scud the clouds, Hurled by the tempest, A tale-bearing wind, 30 That gossips afar. The darkness and storm Are nothing to me. This way and that am I turning, Climbing the hill Ma'e-ma'e, 35 To look on thy charms, dear one, The fragrant buds of the mountain. What perfume breathes from thy body, Such time as to thee I come close, My scarlet bloom of lehua 40 Yields nectar sought by the birds. This mele is said to have been the production of Prince [Page 110] William Lunalilo--afterward King of the Hawaiian islands--and to have been addressed to the Princess Victoria Kamamalu, whom he sought in marriage. Both of them inherited high chief rank, and their offspring, according to Hawaiian usage, would have outranked her brothers, kings Kamehameha IV and V. Selfish and political considerations, therefore, forbade the match, and thereby hangs a tale, the shadow of which darkens this song. Every lover is one part poet; and Lunalilo, even without the love-flame, was more than one part poet. The poem shows the influence of foreign ways and teachings and the pressure of the new environment that had entered Hawaii, in its form, in the moderation of its language and imagery, and in the coherence of its parts; at the same time the spirit of the song and the color of its native imagery mark it as the product of a Polynesian mind. According to the author's interpretation of the song, _Alekoki_ (verse 2), a name applied to a portion of the Nuuanu stream lower down than the basin and falls of _Kapena_ (_Kahiwai a o Kapena_--verse 14), symbolizes a flame that may once have warmed the singer's imagination, but which he discards in favor of his new love, the pool of Kapena. The rain, which prefers to linger in the upland regions of Nuuanu (verses 3 and 4) and which often reaches not the lower levels, typifies his brooding affection. The cold, the storm, and the tempest that rage at _Mamala_ (verse 21)--a name given to the ocean just outside Honolulu harbor--and that fill the heavens with driving scud (verses 27 and 28) represent the violent opposition in high quarters to the love-match. The tale-bearing wind, _makani ahai-lono_ (verse 29), refers, no doubt, to the storm of scandal. The use of the place-names _Ma'ema'e_ and _Mauna-ala_ seem to indicate Nuuanu as the residence of the princess. _Mele_ PALE I Auhea wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai? Pa kolonahe i ka ili-kai, Hoonui me ka Naulu, Na ulu hua i ka hapapa. 5 Anó au ike i ke ko Hala-li'i, I keia wa nana ia Lehua. PALE II Aia i Waimea ku'u haku-lei? Hui pu me ka wai ula iliahi, Mohala ta pua i ke one o Pawene; 10 Ka lawe a ke Koolau Noho pu me ka ua punonohu ula i ka nahele, Ike i ka wai kea o Makaweli; [Page 111] Ua noho pu i ka nahele Me ka lei hinahina o Maka-li'i. 15 Liilii ka uka o Koae'a; Nana i ka ua lani-pili, Ka ó-ó, manu le'a o ka nahele. I Pa-ie-ie an, noho pu me ke anu. E ha'i a'e oe t ka puana: 20 Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele. [Translation] _Song_ CANTO I Whence art thou, thirsty wind, That gently kissest the sea, Then, wed to the ocean breeze, Playest fan with the breadfruit tree? 5 Here sprawl Hala-lii's canes, There stands bird-haunted Lehua. CANTO II My wreath-maker dwells at Waimea. Partnered is she to the swirling river; They plant with flowers the sandy lea, 10 While the bearded surf, tossed by the breeze, Vaunts on the hills as the sun-bow, Looks on the crystal stream Makaweli, And in the wildwood makes her abode With Hinahina of silvern wreaths. 15 Koaea's a speck to the eye, Under the low-hanging rain-cloud, Woodland home of the plaintive ó-ó. From frost-bitten Pa-ie-ie I bid you, guess me the fable: 20 Paddle-maker on Pele's mount. This mele comes from Kauai, an Island in many respects individualized from the other parts of the group and that seems to have been the nurse of a more delicate imagination than was wont to flourish elsewhere. Its tone is archaic, and it has the rare merit of not transfusing the more crudely erotic human emotions into the romantic sentiments inspired by nature. The Hawaiians dearly loved fable and allegory. Argument or truth, dressed out in such fanciful garb, gained double force and acceptance. We may not be able to follow a poet in his wanderings; his local allusions may obscure to us much of his meaning; the doctrine of his allegory may be to us largely a riddle; and the connection between the body of its thought and illustration and the application, or solution, of the poetical conundrum may be past our comprehension; but the [Page 112] play of the poet's fancy, whether childish or mature, is an interesting study, and brings us closer in human sympathy to the people who took pleasure in such things. In translating this poem, while not following literally the language of the poet, the aim has been to hit the target of his deeper meaning, without hopelessly involving the reader in the complexities of Hawaiian color and local topography. A few words of explanation must suffice. The _Makani Inu-wai_ (verse 1)--known to all the islands--is a wind that dries up vegetation, literally a water-drinking wind. The _Naulu_ (verse 3) is the ordinary sea-breeze at Waimea, Kauai, sometimes accompanied by showers. _Hala-li'i_ (verse 5) is a sandy plain on Niihau, and the peculiarity of its canes is that they sprawl along on the ground, and are often to a considerable extent covered by the loose soil. _Lehua_ (verse 6) is the well-known bird-island, lying north of Niihau and visible from the Waimea side of Kauai. The wreath-maker, _haku-lei_ (verse 7), who dwells at Waimea, is perhaps the ocean-vapor, or the moist sea-breeze, or, it may be, some figment of the poet's imagination--the author can not make out exactly what. The _hinahina_ (verse 14), a native geranium, is a mountain shrub that stands about 3 feet high, with silver-gray leaves. _Maka-weli, Maka-li'i, Koae'a_, and _Pa-ie-ie_ are names of places on Kauai. _Puu-ka-Pele_ (verse 20) as the name indicates, is a volcanic hill, situated near Waimea. The key or answer (_puana_), to the allegory given in verse 20, _Ke kahuna kalai-hoe o Puu-ka-Pele_, the paddle-making kahuna of Pele's mount, when declared by the poet (_haku-mele_), is not very informing to the foreign mind; but to the Hawaiian auditor it, no doubt, took the place of our _haec fabula docet_, and it at least showed that the poet was not without an intelligent motive. In the poem in point the author acknowledges his inability to make connection between it and the body of the song. One merit we must concede to Hawaiian poetry, it wastes no time in slow approach. The first stroke of the artist places the auditor _in medias res_. [Page 113] XIV.--THE HULA PUÍLI The character of a hula was determined to some extent by the nature of the musical instrument that was its accompaniment. In the hula _puíli_ it certainly seems as if one could discern the influence of the rude, but effective, instrument that was its musical adjunct. This instrument, the _puíli_ (fig. 1), consisted of a section of bamboo from which one node with its diaphragm had been removed and the hollow joint at that end split up for a considerable distance into fine divisions, which gave forth a breezy rustling when the instrument was struck or shaken. The performers, all of them hoopaa, were often placed in two rows, seated or kneeling and facing one another, thus favoring a responsive action in the use of the puíli as well as in the cantillation of the song. One division would sometimes shake and brandish their instruments, while the others remained quiet, or both divisions would perform at once, each individual clashing one puíli against the other one held by himself, or against that of his vis-a-vis; or they might toss them back and forth to each other, one bamboo passing another in mid air. [Illustration: FIG. 1.--Puíli, bamboo-rattle.] While the hula puíli is undeniably a performance of classical antiquity, it is not to be regarded as of great dignity or importance as compared with many other hulas. Its character, like that of the meles associated with it, is light and trivial. The mele next presented is by no means a modern production. It seems to be the work of some unknown author, a fragment of folklore, it might be called by some, that has drifted down to the present generation and then been put to service in the hula. If hitherto the word _folklore_ has not been used it is not from any prejudice against it, but rather from a feeling that there exists an inclination to stretch the application of it beyond its true limits and to make it include popular songs, stories, myths, and the like, regardless of its fitness of application. Some writers, no doubt, would apply this vague term to a large part of the poetical pieces which are given in this book. [Page 114] On the same principle, why should they not apply the term folklore to the myths and stories that make up the body of Roman and Greek mythology? The present author reserves the term folklore for application to those unappropriated scraps of popular song, story, myth, and superstition that have drifted down the stream of antiquity and that reach us in the scrap-bag of popular memory, often bearing in their battered forms the evidence of long use. Mele Hiki mai, niki mai ka La, e. Aloha wale ka La e kau nei, Aia malalo o Ka-wai-hoa,[247] A ka lalo o Kauai, o Lehua. 5 A Kauai au, ike i ka pali; A Milo-lii[248] pale ka pali loloa. E kolo ana ka pali o Makua-iki;[249] Kolo o Pu-á, he keiki, He keiki makua-ole ke uwe nei. [Translation] _Song_ It has come, it has come; lo the Sun! How I love the Sun that's on high; Below it swims Ka-wai-hoa, Oa the slope inclined from Lehua. 5 On Kauai met I a pali, A beetling cliff that bounds Milo-lii, And climbing up Makua-iki, Crawling up was Pua, the child, An orphan that weeps out its tale. The writer has rescued the following fragment from the wastebasket of Hawaiian song. A lean-to of modern verse has been omitted; it was evidently added within a generation: _Mele_ Malua,[250] ki'i wai ke aloha, Hoopulu i ka liko mamane. Uleuleu mai na manu, Inu wai lehua o Panaewa,[251] 5 E walea ana i ke onaona, Ke one wali o Ohele. [Page 115] Hele mal nei kou aloha A lalawe i ko'u nui kino, Au i hookohu ai, 10 E kuko i ka manao. Kuhi no paha oe no Hopoe[252] Nei lehua au i ka hana ohi ai. [Footnote 247: Kawaihoa. The southern point of Niihau, which is to the west of Kauai, the evident standpoint of the poet, and therefore "below" Kauai.] [Footnote 248: _Milo-lii_. A valley on the northwestern angle of Kauai, a precipitous region, in which travel from one point to another by land is almost impossible.] [Footnote 249: _Makua-iki_. Literally "little father," a name given to an overhanging pali, where was provided a hanging ladder to make travel possible. The series of palis in this region comes to an end at Milo-lii.] [Footnote 250: The _Malua_ was a wind, often so dry that it sucked up the moisture from the land and destroyed the tender vegetation.] [Footnote 251: Panaewa was a woodland region much talked of in poetry and song.] [Footnote 252: _Hopoe_ was a beautiful young woman, a friend of Hiiaka, and was persecuted by Pele owing to jealousy. One of the forms in which she as a divinity showed herself was as a lehua tree in full bloom.] [Translation] _Song_ Malua, fetch water of love, Give drink to this mamane bud. The birds, they are singing ecstatic, Sipping Panaewa's nectared lehua, 5 Beside themselves with the fragrance Exhaled from the garden Ohele. Your love comes to me a tornado; It has rapt away my whole body, The heart you once sealed as your own, 10 There planted the seed of desire. Thought you 'twas the tree of Hopoe, This tree, whose bloom you would pluck? What is the argument of this poem? A passion-stricken swain, or perhaps a woman, cries to _Malua_ to bring relief to his love-smart, to give drink to the parched _mamane_ buds--emblems of human feeling. In contrast to his own distress, he points to the birds caroling in the trees, reveling in the nectar of _lehua_ bloom, intoxicated with the scent of nature's garden. What answer does the lovelorn swain receive from the nymph he adores? In lines 11 and 12 she banteringly asks him if he took her to be like the traditional lehua tree of Hopoe, of which men stood in awe as a sort of divinity, not daring to pluck its flowers? It is as if the woman had asked--if the poet's meaning is rightly interpreted--"Did you really think me plighted to vestal vows, a tree whose bloom man was forbidden to pluck?" [Page 116] XV.--THE HULA KA-LAAU The hula _ka-laau_ (_ka_, to strike; _laau_, wood) was named from the instruments of wood used in producing the accompaniment, a sort of xylophone, in which one piece of resonant wood was struck against another. Both divisions of the performers, the hoopaa and the olapa, took part and each division was provided with the instruments. The cantillation was done sometimes by one division alone, sometimes by both divisions in unison, or one division would answer the other, a responsive chanting that was termed _haawe aku, haawe mai_--"to give, to return." Ellis gives a quotable description of this hula, which he calls the "hura ka raau:" Five musicians advanced first, each, with a staff in his left hand, five or six feet long, about three or four inches in diameter at one end, and tapering off to a point at the other. In his right hand he held a small stick of hard wood, six or nine inches long, with which he commenced his music by striking the small stick on the larger one, beating time all the while with his right foot on a stone placed on the ground beside him for that purpose. Six women, fantastically dressed in yellow tapas, crowned, with garlands of flowers, having also wreaths of native manufacture, of the sweet-scented flowers of the _gardenia_, on their necks, and branches of the fragrant _mairi_ (another native plant,) bound round their ankles, now made their way by couples through the crowd, and, arriving at the area, on one side of which the musicians stood, began their dance. Their movements were slow, and, though not always graceful, exhibited nothing offensive to modest propriety. Both musicians and dancers alternately chanted songs in honor of former gods and chiefs of the islands, apparently much to the gratification of the spectators. (Polynesian Researches, by William Ellis, IV, 78-79, London, 1836.) The mele here first presented is said to be an ancient mele that has been modified and adapted to the glorification of that astute politician, genial companion, and pleasure-loving king, Kalakaua. It was not an uncommon thing for one chief to appropriate the _mele inoa_ of another chief. By substituting one name for another, by changing a genealogy, or some such trifle, the skin of the lion, so to speak, could be made to cover with more or less grace and to serve as an apparel of masquerade for the ass, and without interruption so long as there was no lion, or lion's whelp, to do the unmasking. The poets who composed the mele for a king have been spoken of as "the king's washtubs." Mele inoa were not crown-jewels [Page 117] to be passed from one incumbent of the throne to another. The practice of appropriating the mele inoa composed in honor of another king and of another line was one that grew up with the decadence of honor in times of degeneracy. _Mele_ O Kalakaua, be inoa, O ka pua mae ole i ka la; Ke pua mai la i ka mauna, I ke kuahiwi o Mauna-kea; 5 Ke a la i Ki-lau-e-a, Malamalama i Wahine-kapu, I ka luna o Uwe-kahuna, I ka pali kapu o Ka-au-e-a. E a mai ke alii kia-manu; 10 Ua Wahi i ka hulu o ka mamo, Ka pua nani o Hawaii; O Ka-la-kaua, he inoa! [Translation] Song Ka-la-kaua, a great name, A flower not wilted by the sun; It blooms on the mountains, In the forests of Mauna-kea; 5 It burns in Ki-lau-e-a, Illumines the cliff Wahine-kapu, The heights of Uwe-kabuna, The sacred pali of Ka-au-e-a. Shine forth, king of bird-hunters, 10 Resplendent in plumage of mamo, Bright flower of Hawaii: Ka-la-kaua, the Illustrious! The proper names _Wahine-kapu, Uwe-kahuna_, and _Ka-au-e-a_ in the sixth, seventh, and eighth verses are localities, cliffs, bluffs, precipices, etc., in and about the great caldera of Kilauea, following up the mention (in the fifth verse) of that giant among the world's active volcanoes. The purpose of the poem seems to be to magnify the prowess of this once famous king as a captivator of the hearts and loving attentions of the fair sex. _Mele_ Kona kai opua[253] i kala i ka la'i; Opua binano ua i ka malie; Hiolo na wai naoa a ke kehau, [Page 118] Ke' na-ú[254] la na kamalii, 5 Ke kaohi la i ke kukuna o ka la; Ku'u la koili i ke kai-- Pumehana wale ia aina! Aloha wale ke kini o Hoolulu, Aohe lua ia oe ke aloha, 10 O ku'u puni, o ka me' owá. [Footnote 253: _Opua_ means a distinct cloud-pile, an omen, a weather-sign.] [Footnote 254: The word _na-ú_ refers to a sportive contest involving a trial of lung-power, that was practised by the youth of Kona, Hawaii, as well as of other places. They stood on the shore at sunset, and as the lower limb of the sun touched the ocean horizon each one, having filled his lungs to the utmost, began the utterance of the sound _na-u-u-u-u_, which he must, according to the rules of the game, maintain continuously until the sun had disappeared, a lapse of about two minutes' time. This must be done without taking fresh breath. Anyone inhaling more air into his lungs or intermitting the utterance of the sound was compelled by the umpire to withdraw from the contest and to sit down, while anyone who maintained the droning utterance during the prescribed time was declared victor. It was no mean trial.] [Translation] _Song_ The cloud-piles o'er Kona's sea whet my joy, Clouds that drop fain in fair weather. The clustered dew-pearls shake to the ground; The boys drone out the na-ú to the West, 5 Eager for Sol to sink to his rest. This my day for a plunge in the sea-- The Sun will be warming other shores-- Happy the tribes of that land of calm! Fathomless, deep is my love 10 To thee, my passion, my mate. The author of this love-song, _mele ipo_, is said to have been Kalola, a widow of Kamehameha I, at a time when she was an old woman; the place was Lahaina, and the occasion an amour between Liholiho (Kamehameha II) and a woman of rank. The last two verses of the poem have been omitted from the present somewhat free, yet faithful translation, as they do not seem to be of interest or pertinent from our point of view, and there is internal evidence that they were added as an afterthought. The hulas on the various islands differed somewhat from one another. In general, it may be said that on Kauai they were presented with more spirit and in greater variety than in other parts of the group. The following account will illustrate this fact: About the year 1870 the late Queen Emma made the tour of the island of Kauai, and at some places the hula was performed as a recreation in her honor. The hula ka-laau was thus presented; it was marked, however, by such peculiarities as to make it hardly recognizable as being the same performance as the one elsewhere known by that name. As given on Kauai, both the olapa and the hoopaa took part, as they do on the [Page 119] other islands, but in the Kauai performance the olapa alone handled the two sticks of the xylophone, which in other parts formed the sole instrument of musical accompaniment to this hula. Other striking novelties also were introduced. The olapa held between their toes small sticks with which they beat upon a resonant beam of wood that lay on the floor, thus producing tones of a low pitch. Another departure from the usual style of this hula was that the hoopaa, at the same time, devoted themselves with the right hand to playing upon the pu-niu, the small drum, while with the left they developed the deep bass of the pahu. The result of this outre combination must have been truly remarkable. It is a matter of observation that on the island of Kauai both the special features of its spoken language and the character of its myths and legends indicate a closer relationship to the groups of the southern Pacific, to which the Hawaiian people owe their origin, than do those of the other islands of the Hawaiian group. [Page 120] XVI.--THE HULA ÍLI-ÍLI The _hula íli-íli_, pebble-dance, was a performance of the classical times, in which, according to one who has witnessed it, the olapa alone took part. The dancers held in each hand a couple of pebbles, _ili-ili_--hence the name of the dance--which they managed to clash against each other, after the fashion of castanets, thus producing a rude music of much the same quality as that elicited from the "bones" in our minstrel performances. According to another witness, the drum also was sometimes used in connection with the pebbles as an accompaniment to this hula. The ili-ili was at times a hula of intensity--that is to say, was acted with that stress of voice and manner which the Hawaiians termed _ai-ha'a_; but it seems to have been more often performed in that quiet natural tone of voice and of manner termed _ko'i-honua_, which may be likened to utterance in low relief. The author can present only the fragment of a song to illustrate this hula: _Mele_ A lalo maua o Wai-pi'o, Ike i ka nani o Hi'i-lawe. E lawe mai a oki I na hala o Naue i ke kai, 5 I na lehua lu-lu'u pali; Noho ana lohe i ke kani o ka o-ó, Hoolono aku i ka leo o ke kahuli. [Translation] _Song_ We twain were lodged in Wai-pi'o, Beheld Hi'i-lawe, the grand. We brought and cut for our love-wreath The rich hala drupe from Naue's strand, 5 Tufted lehua that waves on the cliff; Then sat and gave ear to song of o-ó, Or harked the chirp of the tree-shell. _Wai-pi'o_, the scene of this idyl, is a valley deep and broad which the elements have scooped out in the windward exposure of Hawaii, and scarce needs mention to Hawaiian [Page 121] tourists. _Hi'i-lawe_ is one of several high waterfalls that leap from the world of clouds into the valley-basin. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XII [Illustration: PUPU-KANI-OE, POETICALLY STYLED KAHULI HAWAIIAN TREE-SHELLS (ACHATINELLA)] _Kahuli_ is a fanciful name applied to the beautiful and unique genus of tree-shells (Achatinella), plate XII, that inhabit the Hawaiian woods. The natives are persuaded that these shells have the power of chirping a song of their own, and the writer has often heard the note which they ascribe to them; but to his ear it was indistinguishable from the piping of the cricket. This is the song that the natives credit to the tree-shells: _Mele_ Kahuli aku, Kahuli mai, Kahuli lei ula, Lei akolea.[255] 5 Kolea, kolea,[256] Ki'i ka wai, Wai akolea. [Translation] _Song of the Tree-shell_ Trill a-far, Trill a-near, A dainty song-wreath, Wreath akolea. 5 Kolea, Kolea, Fetch me some dew, Dew from pink akolea. This little piece of rustic imagination is said to have been used in the hula, but in connection with what dance the author has not been able to learn. [Footnote 255: The _akolea_ is a fern (by some classed as a Polypodium) which, according to Doctor Hillebrand (Flora of the Hawaiian Islands), "sustains its extraordinary length by the circinnate tips which twine round the branches of neighboring shrubs or trees."] [Footnote 256: _Kolea_. The red-breasted plover.] [Page 122] XVII.--THE HULA KÁ-ÉKE-ÉKE The _kaekeeke_ was a formal hula worthy of high consideration. Some authorities assert that the performers in this dance were chosen from the hoopaa alone, who, it will be remembered, maintained the kneeling position, while, according to another authority, the olapa also took part in it. There is no reason for doubting the sincerity of both these witnesses. The disagreement probably arose from hasty generalization. One is reminded of the wise Hawaiian saw, already noted, "Do not think that your halau holds all the knowledge." This hula took its name from the simple instrument that formed its musical accompaniment. This consisted of a single division of the long-jointed bamboo indigenous to Hawaii, which was left open at one end. (The varieties of bamboo imported from China or the East Indies have shorter joints and thicker walls, and will not answer the purpose, being not sufficiently resonant.) The joints used in the kaekeeke were of different sizes and lengths, thus producing tones of various pitch. The performer held one in each hand and the tone was elicited by striking the base of the cylinder sharply against the floor or some firm, nonresonant body. On making actual trial of the kaekeeke, in order to prove by experience its musical quality and capabilities, the writer's pleasure was as great as his surprise when he found it capable of producing musical tones of great purity and of the finest quality. Experiment soon satisfied him that for the best production of the tone it was necessary to strike the bamboo cylinder smartly upon some firm, inelastic substance, such as a bag of sand. The tone produced was of crystalline purity, and by varying the size and length of the cylinders it proved possible to represent a complete musical scale. The instrument was the germ of the modern organ. The first mele to be presented partakes of the nature of the allegory, a form of composition not a little affected by the Hawaiians: _Mele_ A Hamakua au, Noho i ka ulu hala. Malihini au i ka hiki ana, I ka ua pe'epe'e pohaku. 5 Noho oe a li'u-li'u, A luli-luli malie iho. [Page 123] He keiki akamai ko ia pali; Elima no pua i ka lima. Kui oe a lawa 10 I lei no ku'u aloha; Malama malie oe i ka makemake, I lei hooheno no ke aloha ole. Moe oe a ala mai; Nana iho oe i kou pono. 15 Hai'na ia ka puana: Keiki noho pali o Hamakua; A waka-waka, a waka-waka. [Translation] _Song_ It was in Hamakua; I sat in a grove of Pandanus, A stranger at my arrival, A rock was my shelter from rain. 5 I found it a wearisome wait, Cautiously shifting about. There's a canny son of the cliff That has five buds to his hand. You shall twine me a wreath of due length, 10 A wreath to encircle my love, Whilst you hold desire in strong curb, Till love-touch thaws the cold-hearted. When you rise from sleep on the mat, Look down, see the conquest of love. 15 The meaning of this short story? What child fondly clings to the cliff? Waka-waka, the shell-fish. The scene of this idyl, this love-song, _mele hoipoipo_, is Hamakua, a district on the windward side of Hawaii, subject to rain-squalls. The poet in his allegory represents himself as a stranger sitting in a pandanus grove, _ulu hala_ (verse 2); sheltering himself from a rain-squall by crouching behind a rock, _ua pe'epe'e pohaku_ (verse 4); shifting about on account of the veering of the wind, _luli-luli malie iho_ (verse 6). Interpreting this figuratively, Hamakua, no doubt, is the woman in the case; the grove an emblem of her personality and physical charms; the rain-squall, of her changeful moods and passions. The shifting about of the traveler to meet the veering of the wind would seem to mean the man's diplomatic efforts to deal with the woman's varying caprices and outbursts. He now takes up a parable about some creature, a child of the cliff--Hamakua's ocean boundary is mostly a precipitous wall--which he represents as a hand with five buds. Addressing it as a servant, he bids this creature twine a [Page 124] wreath sufficient for his love, _kui oe a_ _lawa_ (verse 9), _I lei no ku'u aloha_ (verse 10). This creature with five buds, what is it but the human hand, the errand-carrier of man's desire, _makemake_ (verse 11)? The _pali_, by the way, is a figure often used by Hawaiian poets to mean the glory and dignity of the human body. That is a fine imaginative touch in which the poet illustrates the power of the human hand to kindle love in one that is cold-hearted, as if he had declared the hand itself to be not only the wreath-maker, but the very wreath that is to encircle and warm into response the unresponsive loved one, _I lei hooheno no ke aloha ole_ (verse 12). Differences of physical environment, of social convention, of accepted moral and esthetic standards interpose seemingly impassable barriers between us and the savage mind, but at the touch of an all-pervading human sympathy these barriers dissolve into very thin air. _Mele_ Kahiki-nui, auwahi[257] ka makani! Nana aku au ia Kona, Me ke kua lei ahi[258] la ka moku; Me ke lawa uli e, la, no 5 Ku'u kai pa-ú hala-ká[259] I ka lae o Hana-maló;[260] Me he olohe ili polohiwa, Ke ku a mauna, Ma ka ewa lewa[261] Hawaii. 10 Me he ihu leiwi la, ka moku, Kou mauna, kou palamoa:[262] Kau a waha mai Mauna-kea[263] A me Mauna-loa,[263] Ke ku a Maile-hahéi.[264] 15 Uluna mai Mauna Kilohana[265] I ka poohiwi o Hu'e-Hu'e.[265] [Footnote 257: _Auwahi_ (a word not found in any dictionary) is said by a scholarly Hawaiian to be an archaic form of the word _uwahi_, or _uahi_ (milk of fire), smoke, _Kahiki-nui_ is a dry region and the wind (_makani_) often fills the air with dust.] [Footnote 258: _Kua lei ahi_. No Hawaiian has been found who professes to know the true meaning of these words. The translation of them here given is, therefore, purely formal.] [Footnote 259: _Pa-ú halaká_. An expression sometimes applied to the hand when used as a shield to one's modesty; here it is said of the ocean (_kai_) when one's hody is immersed in it.] [Footnote 260: _Hana-maló_. A cape that lies between Kawaihae and Kailua in north Kona.] [Footnote 261: _Ewa lewá_. In this reading the author has followed the authoritative suggestion of a Hawaiian expert, substituting it for that first given by another, which was _elewa_. The latter was without discoverable meaning. Even as now, given conjectures as to its meaning are at variance. The one followed presents the less difficulty.] [Footnote 262: _Palamoa_. The name of a virulent _kupua_ that acted as errand-carrier and agent for sorcerers (_kahuna ánaaná_); also the name of a beautiful grass found on Hawaii that has a pretty red seed. Following the line of least resistance, the latter meaning has been adopted; in it is found a generic expression for the leafy covering of the island.] [Footnote 263: _Mauna-kea_ and _Mauna-loa_. The two well-known mountains of the big island of Hawaii.] [Footnote 264: _Maile-hahei_. Said to be a hill in Kona.] [Footnote 265: _Kilohana_ and _Hu'e-hu'e_. The names of two hills in Kona, Hawaii.] [Page 125] [Translation] _Song_ Kahiki-nui, land of wind-driven smoke! Mine eyes gaze with longing on Kona; A fire-wreath glows aback of the district, And a robe of wonderful green 5 Lies the sea that has aproned my loins Off the point of Hana-malo. A dark burnished form is Hawaii, To one who stands on the mount-- A hamper swung down from heaven, 10 A beautiful carven shape is the island-- Thy mountains, thy splendor of herbage: Mauna-kea and Loa stand (in glory) apart, To him who looks from Maile-hahéi; And Kilohana pillows for rest 15 On the shoulder of Hu'e-hu'e. This love-song--_mele hoipoipo_--which would be the despair of a strict literalist--what is it all about? A lover in Kahiki-nui--of the softer sex, it would appear-- looks across the wind-swept channel and sends her thoughts lovingly, yearningly, over to Kona of Hawaii, which district she personifies as her lover. The mountains and plains, valleys and capes of its landscapes, are to her the parts and features of her beloved. Even in the ocean that flows between her and him, and which has often covered her nakedness as with a robe, she finds a link in the chain of association. [Page 126] XVIII.--AN INTERMISSION During the performance of a hula the halau and all the people there assembled are under a tabu, the imposition of which was accomplished by the opening prayer that had been offered before the altar. This was a serious matter and laid everyone present under the most formal obligations to commit no breach of divine etiquette; it even forbade the most innocent remarks and expressions of emotion. But when the performers, wearied of the strait-jacket, determined to unbend and indulge in social amenities, to lounge, gossip, and sing informal songs, to quaff a social bowl of awa, or to indulge in an informal dance, they secured the opportunity for this interlude, by suspending the tabu. This was accomplished by the utterance of a _pule hoo-noa_, a tabu-lifting prayer. If the entire force of the tabu was not thus removed, it was at least so greatly mitigated that the ordinary conversations of life might be carried on without offense. The pule was uttered by the kumu or some person who represented the whole-company: _Pule Hoo-noa_ Lehua[266] i-luna, Lehua i-lalo, A wawae, A Ka-ulua,[267] 5 A o Haumea,[268] Kou makua-kane,[269] Manu o Kaáe;[270] A-koa-koa, O Pe-kau,[271] 10 O Pe-ka-nana,[272] [Page 127] Papa pau. Pau a'e iluna; O Ku-mauna, A me Laka, 15 A me Ku. Ku i ka wao, A me Hina, Huna mele-lani. A ua pau; 20 Pau kakou; A ua noa; Noa ke kahua; Noa! [Footnote 266: _Lehua_. See plate XIII.] [Footnote 267: _Ka-ulua_. The name of the third month of the Hawaiian year, corresponding to late January or February, a time when In the latitude of Hawaii nature does not refrain from leafing and flowering.] [Footnote 268: _Haumea_. The name applied after her death and apotheosis to Papa, the wife of Wakea, and the ancestress of the Hawaiian race. (The Polynesian Race, A. Fornander, 1, 205. London, 1878.)] [Footnote 269: It is doubtful to whom the expression "makua-kane" refers, possibly to Wakea, the husband of Papa; and if so, very properly termed father, ancestor, of the people.] [Footnote 270: _Manu o Kaáe_ (_Manu-o-Kaáe_ it might be written) is said to have been a goddess, one of the family of Pele, a sister of the sea nymph _Moana-nui-ka-lehua_, whose dominion was in the waters between Oahu and Kauai. She is said to have had the gift of eloquence.] [Footnote 271: _Pe-káu_ refers to the ranks and classes of the gods.] [Footnote 272: _Pe-ka-naná_ refers to men, their ranks and classes.] BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XIII [Illustration: LEHUA (METROSIDEROS POLYMORPHA) FLOWERS AND LEAVES] [Translation] _Power to Remove Tabu_ Bloom of lehua on altar piled, Bloom of lehua below, Bloom of lehua at altar's base, In the month Ka-ulua. 5 Present here is Haumea, And the father of thee, And the goddess of eloquent speech; Gather, now gather, Ye ranks of gods, 10 And ye ranks of men, Complete in array. The heavenly service is done, Service of Ku of the mount, Service of Laka, 15 And the great god Ku, Ku of the wilds, And of Hina, Hina, the heavenly singer. Now it is done, 20 Our work is done; The tabu is lifted, Free is the place, Tabu-free! Here also is another pule hoo-noa, a prayer-song addressed to Laka, an intercession for the lifting of the tabu. It will be noticed that the request is implied, not explicitly stated. All heads are lifted, all eyes are directed heavenward or to the altar, and the hands with a noiseless motion keep time as the voices of the company, led by the kumu, in solemn cantillation, utter the following prayer: [Page 128] _Pule Hoo-noa no Laka_ Pupu we'u-we'u[273] e, Láka e, O kona we'u-we'u e ku-wá;[274] O Ku-ka-ohia-Laká,[275] e; Laua me Ku-pulu-pulu;[276] 5 Ka Lehua me ke Koa lau-lii; O ka Lama me Moku-halii, Kú-i-kú-i[277] me ka Hala-pepe; Lakou me Lau-ka-ie-ie, Ka Palai me Maile-lau-lii. 10 Noa, noa i kou kuahu; Noa, noa ia oe, Làka; Pa-pá-lùa noa! [Translation] _Tabu-lifting Prayer (to Laka)_ Oh wildwood bouquet, O Láka! Set her greenwood leaves in order due; And Ku, god of Ohia-La-ká, He and Ku, the shaggy, 5 Lehua with small-leafed Koa, And Lama and Moku-hali'i, Kú-i-kú-i and Haia-pé-pé; And with these leafy I-e-i-e, Fern and small-leafed Maile. 10 Free, the altar is free! Free through, you, Laka, Doubly free! [Footnote 273: _Pupu we'u-we'u_. A bouquet. The reference is to the wreaths and floral decorations that bedecked the altar, and that were not only offerings to the goddess, but symbols of the diverse forms in which she manifested herself. At the conclusion of a performance the players laid upon the altar the garlands they themselves had worn. These were in addition to those which were placed there before the play began.] [Footnote 274: _Ku-wá_. It has cost much time and trouble to dig out the meaning of this word. The fundamental notion is that contained in its two parts, _ku_, to stand, and _wa_, an interval or space, the whole meaning to arrange or set in orderly intervals.] [Footnote 275: _La-ká_. A Tahitian name for the tree which in Hawaii is called _lehua_, or _ohia_. In verse 3 the Hawaiian name _ohia_ and the Tahitian _laká_ (accented on the final syllable, thus distinguishing it from the name of the goddess _Láka_, with which it has no discoverable connection) are combined in one form as an appellation of the god _Ku-ku-ka-ohia-Laká_. This is a notable instance of the survival of a word as a sacred epithet in a liturgy, which otherwise, had been lost to the language.] [Footnote 276: _Ku-pulu-pulu_. Ku, the fuzzy or shaggy, a deity much worshiped by canoe-makers, represented as having the figure of an old man with a long beard. In the sixth verse the full form of the god's name here given as _Moku-ha-li'i_ would be _Ku-moku-hali'i_, the last part being an epithet applied to _Ku_ working in another capacity. _Moku-hali'i_ is the one who bedecks the island. His special emblem, as here implied, was the _lama_, a beautiful tree, whose wood was formerly used in making certain sacred inclosures. From this comes the proper name _Palama_, one of the districts of Honolulu.] [Footnote 277: _Kú-i-kú-i_. The same as the tree now called _ku-kú-i_, the tree whose nuts were used as candles and flambeaus. The Samoan name of the same tree is _tú-i-tú-i_.] But even now, when the tabu has been removed and the assembly is supposed to have assumed an informal character, before they may indulge themselves in informalities, there remains to be chanted a dismissing prayer, _pule hooku'u_, in which all voices must join: [Page 129] _Pule Hooku'u_ Ku ka makaia a ka huaka'i moe ipo;[278] Ku au, hele; Noho oe, aloha! Aloha na hale o makou i makamaka ole, 5 Ke alanui hele mauka o Huli-wale,[279] la; H-u-l-i. E huli a'e ana i ka makana, I ke alana ole e kanaenae aku ia oe. Eia ke kanaenae, o ka leo. [Translation] _Dismissing Prayer_ Doomed sacrifice I in the love-quest, I stand [loin-girt][280] for the journey; To you who remain, farewell! Farewell to our homes forsaken. 5 On the road beyond In-decision, I turn me about-- Turn me about, for lack of a gift, An offering, intercession, for thee-- My sole intercession, the voice. [Footnote 278: A literal translation of the first line would be as follows: (Here) stands the doomed sacrifice for the journey in search of a bed-lover.] [Footnote 279: _Huli-wale_. To turn about, here used as the name of a place, is evidently intended figuratively to stand for mental indecision.] [Footnote 280: The bracketed phrase is not in the text of the original.] This fragment--two fragments, in fact, pieced together--belongs to the epic of Pele. As her little sister, Hiiaka, is about to start on her adventurous journey to bring the handsome Prince Lohiau from the distant island of Kauai she is overcome by a premonition of Pole's jealousy and vengeance, and she utters this intercession. The formalities just described speak for themselves. They mark better than any comments can do the superstitious devotion of the old-timers to formalism, their remoteness from that free touch of social and artistic pleasure, the lack of which we moderns often lament in our own lives and sigh for as a lost art, conceiving it to have been once the possession of "the children of nature." The author has already hinted at the form and character of the entertainments with which hula-folk sometimes beguiled their professional interludes. Fortunately the author is able to illustrate by means of a song the very form of entertainment they provided for themselves on such an occasion. The following mele, cantillated with an accompaniment of expressive gesture, is one that was actually given at an awa-drinking bout indulged in by hula-folk. The author has an account of its recital at Kahuku, island of Oahu, so late as the year 1849, during a circuit of that [Page 130] island made by King Kamehameha III. This mele is reckoned as belonging to the ordinary repertory of the hula; but to which particular form of the dance it was devoted has not been learned: _Mele_ Ua ona o Kane i ka awa; Ua kau ke kéha[281] i ka uluna; Ua hi'o-lani[282] i ka moena. Kipú mai la i ke kapa o ka noe. 5 Noe-noe na hokú o ka lani-- Imo-imo mai la i ka po a'e-a'e. Mahana-lua[283] na kukui a Lanikaula,[274] He kaula no Kane.[285] Meha na pali o Wai-pi'o 10 I ke kani mau o Kiha-pú; A ono ole ka awa a ke alii I ke kani mau o Kiha-pú; Moe ole kona po o ka Hooilo; Uluhua, a uluhua, 15 I ka mea nana e hull a loaa I kela kupua ino i ka pali, Olali la, a olali. [Translation] _Song_ Kane is drunken with awa; His head is laid on the pillow; His body stretched on the mat. A trumpet sounds through the fog, 5 Dimmed are the stars in the sky; When the night is clear, how they twinkle! Lani-kaula's torches look double, The torches that burn for Kane. Ghostly and drear the walls of Waipio 10 At the endless blasts of Kiha-pú. The king's awa fails to console him; 'Tis the all-night conching of Kiha-pú. Broken his sleep the whole winter; Downcast and sad, sad and downcast, 15 At loss to find a brave hunter Shall steal the damned conch from the cliff. Look, how it gleams [through the fog]! [Footnote 281: _Kéha_ is an elegant expression for the side of the head.] [Footnote 282: _Hi'o-lani_, literally to turn the side to heaven, is a classic expression of refinement.] [Footnote 283: _Mahana-lua_, literally to see double, was an accepted test of satisfactory drunkenness. It reminds the author of an expression he once heard used by the comedian Clarke in the play of Toodles. While in a maudlin state from liquor he spoke of the lighted candle that was in his hand as a "double-barreled candle."] [Footnote 284: _Lani-kaula_ was a prophet who lived on Molokai at a place that still bears his name. He had his residence in the midst of a grove of fine kukui trees, the remnants of which remain to this day. Torches made from the nuts of these trees were supposed to be of superior quality and they furnished the illumination for the revelries of Kane and his fellows.] [Footnote 285: _He kaula no Kane_. A literal translation would be, a prophet of Kane.] BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XIV [Illustration: HAWAIIAN TRUMPET, PU (CASSIS MADAGASCARENSIS)] [Page 131] Kane, the chief god of the Hawaiian pantheon, in company with other immortals, his boon companions, met in revelry on the heights bounding Wai-pi'o valley. With each potation of awa they sounded a blast upon their conch-shells, and the racket was almost continuous from the setting of the sun until drowsiness overcame them or the coming of day put an end to their revels. The tumult of sound made it impossible for the priests to perform acceptably the offices of religion, and the pious king, Liloa, was distressed beyond measure. The whole valley was disturbed and troubled with forebodings at the suspension of divine worship. The chief offender was Kane himself. The trumpet which he held to his lips was a conch of extraordinary size (pl. XIV) and credited with a divine origin and the possession of supernatural power; its note was heard above all the others. This shell, the famed Kiha-pú, had been stolen from the heiau of Paka'a-lána, Liloa's temple in Waipi'o valley, and-after many-adventures had come into the hands of god Kane, who used it, as we see, for the interruption of the very services that were intended for his honor. The relief from this novel and unprecedented situation came from an unexpected quarter. King Liloa's awa-patches were found to be suffering from the nocturnal visits of a thief. A watch was set; the thief proved to be a dog, Puapua-lenalena, whose master was a confirmed awa-toper. When master and dog were brought into the presence of King Liloa, the shrewd monarch divined the remarkable character of the animal, and at his suggestion the dog was sent on the errand which resulted in the recovery by stealth of the famed conch Kiha-pú. As a result of his loss of the conch, Kane put an end to his revels, and the valley of Wai-pi'o again had peace. This mele is an admirable specimen of Hawaiian poetry, and may be taken as representative of the best product of Hawaii's classical period. The language is elegant and concise, free from the redundancies that so often load down Hawaiian compositions. No one, it is thought, will deny to the subject-matter of this mele an unusual degree of interest. There is a historic side to the story of the conch-shell Kiha-pú. Not many years ago the Hawaiian Museum contained an ethnological specimen of great interest, the conch-shell Kiha-pú. It was fringed, after the fashion of a witch-doll, with strings, beads, and wampumlike bits of mother-of-pearl, and had great repute as a _kupua_ or luckbringer. King Kalakaua, who affected a sentimental leaning to the notions of his mother's race, took possession of this famous "curio" and it disappeared from public view. [Page 132] XIX.--THE HULA MAU-KANI The hula _niau-kani_ was one of the classic dances of the halau, and took its name from the musical instrument that was its accompaniment. This was a simple, almost extemporaneous, contrivance, constructed, like the Jew's-harp, on the principle of a reed instrument. It was made of two parts, a broad piece of bamboo with a longitudinal slit at one end and a thin narrow piece of the same material, the reed, which was held firmly against the fenestra on the concave side of part number one. The convexity of the instrument was pressed against the lips and the sound was produced by projecting the breath through the slit in a speaking or singing tone in such a way as to cause vibrations in the reed. The manner of constructing and operating this reed instrument is suggestive of the jew's-harp. It is asserted by those who should know that the niau-kani was an instrument of purely Hawaiian invention. The performer did not depend simply upon the musical tone, but rather upon the modification it produced in the utterances that were strained through it. It would certainly require a quick ear, much practice, and a thorough acquaintance with the peculiarities of Hawaiian mele to enable one to distinguish the words of a song after being transformed by passage through the niau-kani. As late as about thirty or forty years ago the niau-kani was often seen in the hands of the native Hawaiian youth, who used it as a means of romantic conversations and flirtation. Since the coming in of the Portuguese and their importation of the _uku-lele_, the _taro-patch-fiddle_, and other cheap stringed instruments, the niau-kani has left the field to them and disappeared. The author's informant saw the niau-kani dance performed some years ago at Moana-lua, near Honolulu, and again on the island of Kauai. The dance in each case was the same. The kumu, aided by a pupil, stood and played on the niau-kani, straining the cantillations through the reed-protected aperture, while the olapa, girls, kept time to the music with the movements of their dancing, [Page 133] _Mele_ E pi'i ka wai ka nahele, U'ina, nakolo i na Molo-kama;[286] Ka ua lele mawaho o Mamala-hoa. He manao no ko'u e ike 5 I na pua ohi'a o Kupa-koili,[287] I hoa kaunu no Manu'a-kepa;[288] Ua like laua me Maha-moku.[289] Anapa i ke kai o Mono-lau.[290] Lalau ka lima a noa ia ia la, 10 I hoa pili no Lani-huli.[291] E huli oe i ku'u makemake, A loa'a i Kau-ka-opua.[292] Elua no pua kau A ka manao i makemake ai. 15 Hoohihi oe a hihi I lei kohu no neia kino. Ahea oe hiki mai? A kau ka La i na pali;[293] Ka huli a ka makani Wai-a-ma'o,[294] 20 Makemake e iki ia ka Hala-mapu-ana, Ka wai halana i Wai-pá.[295] NOTE.--The proper names belong to localities along the course of the Wai-oli stream. [Footnote 286: _Molokama_ (more often given as _Na Molo-kama_). The name applied to a succession of falls made by the stream far up in the mountains. The author has here used a versifier's privilege, compressing this long word into somewhat less refractory shape.] [Footnote 287: _Kupa-koili_. A grove of mountain-apples, _ohia ai_, that stand on the bank of the stream not far from the public road.] [Footnote 288: _Manu'a-kepa_. A sandy, grass-covered meadow on the opposite side of the river from Kupa-koili.] [Footnote 289: _Maha-moku_. A sandy beach near the mouth of the river, on the same bank as Manu'a-kepa.] [Footnote 290: _Mono-lau_. That part of the bay into which the river flows, that is used as an anchorage for vessels.] [Footnote 291: _Lani-huli_. The side of the valley Kilauea of Wai-oli toward which the river makes a bend before it enters the ocean.] [Footnote 292: _Kau-ka-opua_. Originally a phrase meaning "the cloud-omen hangs," has come to be used as the proper name of a place. It is an instance of a form of personification often employed by the Hawaiians, in which words having a specific meaning--such, for instance, as our "jack-in-the-box"--have come to be used as a noun for the sake of the meaning wrapped up in the etymology. This figure of speech is, no doubt, common to all languages, markedly so in the Hawaiian. It may be further illustrated by the Hebrew name Ichabod--"his glory has departed."] [Footnote 293: _A kau ka La, i na pali_. When stands the sun o'er the pali, evening or late in the afternoon. On this part of Kauai the sun sets behind the mountains.] [Footnote 294: _Wai-a-ma'o_. The land-breeze, which sometimes springs up at night.] [Footnote 295: _Wai-pá_. A spot on the bank of the stream where grew a pandanus tree, _hala_, styled _Ka-hala-mapu-ana_, the hala-breathing-out-its-fragrance.] [Translation] _Song_ Up to the streams in the wildwood, Where rush the falls Molo-kama, While the rain sweeps past Mala-hoa, I had a passion to visit 5 The forest of bloom at Koili, [Page 134] To give love-caress to Manu'a, And her neighbor Maha-moku, And see the waters flash at Mono-lau; My hand would quiet their rage, 10 Would sidle and touch Lani-huli. Grant me but this one entreaty, We'll meet 'neath the omens above. Two flowers there are that bloom In your garden of being; 15 Entwine them into a garland, Fit emblem and crown of our love. And what the hour of your coming? When stands the Sun o'er the pali, When turns the breeze of the land, 20 To breathe the perfume of hala, While the currents swirl at Wai-pá. This mele is the language of passion, a song in which the lover frankly pours into the ear of his inamorata the story of his love up to the time of his last enthrallment. Verses 11, 12, and 17 are the language of the woman. The scene is laid in the rainy valley of Hanalei, Kauai, a broad and deep basin, to the finishing of which the elements have contributed their share. The rush and roar of the waters that unite to form the river Wai-oli, from their wild tumbling in the falls of Molo-kama till they pass the river's mouth and mingle with the flashing waves of the ocean at Mono-lau, _Anapa i ke kai o Mono-lau_ (verse 8), are emblematic of the man's passion and his quest for satisfaction. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XV WOMAN PLAYING ON THE NOSE-FLUTE (OHE-HANO-IHU)] [Page 135] XX.--THE HULA OHE The action of the hula _ohe_ had some resemblance to one of the figures of the Virginia reel. The dancers, ranged in two parallel rows, moved forward with an accompaniment of gestures until the head of each row had reached the limit in that direction, and then, turning outward to right and left, countermarched in the same manner to the point of starting, and so continued to do. They kept step and timed their gestures and movements to the music of the bamboo nose-flute, the _ohe_. In a performance of this hula witnessed by an informant the chorus of dancers was composed entirely of girls, while the kumu operated the nose-flute and at the same time led the cantillation of the mele. This seemed an extraordinary statement, and the author challenged the possibility of a person blowing with the nose into a flute and at the same time uttering words with the mouth. The Hawaiian asserted, nevertheless, that, the leader of the hula, the kumu, did accomplish these two functions; yet his answer did not remove doubt that they were accomplished jointly and at the same time. The author is inclined to think that the kumu performed the two actions alternately. The musical range of the nose-flute was very limited; it had but two or, at the most, three stops. The player with his left hand held the flute to the nostril, at the same time applying a finger of the same hand to keep the other nostril closed. With the fingers of his right hand he operated the stops (pl. xv). _Mele_ E pi' i ka nahele, E ike ia Ka-wai-kini,[296] Nana ia Pihaua-ka-lani,[297] [Page 136] I kela manu hulu ma'e-ma'e,[298] 5 Noho pu me Ka-hale-lehua, Punahele ia Kaua-kahi-alii.[299] E Kaili,[300] e Kaili, e! E Kaili, lau o ke koa, E Kaili, lau o ke koa, 10 Moopuna a Hooipo-i-ka-Malanai,[301] Hiwa-hiwa a ka Lehua-wehe![302] Aia ka nani i Wai-ehu, I ka wai kaili puuwai o ka makemake. Makemake au i ke kalukalu o Kewá,[303] 15 E he'e ana i ka nalu o Maka-iwa. He iwa-iwa oe na ke aloha, I Wai-lua nui hoano. Ano-ano ka hale, aohe kanaka, Ua la'i oe no ke one o Ali-ó. 20 Aia ka ipo i ka nahele. [Footnote 296: _Ka-wai-kini_. The name of a rocky bluff that stands on the side of Mount Wai-ale-ale, looking to Wailua. It as said to divide the flow from the great morass, the natural reservoir formed by the hollow at the top of the mountain, turning a part of it in the direction of Wai-niha, a valley not far from Hanalei, which otherwise would, it is said by Hawaiians, go to swell the stream that forms the Wailua river. This rock, in the old times, was regarded as a demigod, a _kupua_, and had a lover who resided in Wai-lua, also another who resided in the mountains. The words in the first two or three verses may be taken as if they were the utterance of this Wai-lua lover, saying "I will go up and see my sweetheart Ka-wai-kini."] [Footnote 297: _Pihana-ka-lani_. Literally, the fullness of heaven. This was a forest largely of lehua that covered the mountain slope below Ka-wai-kini. It seems as if the purpose of its mention was to represent the beauties and charms of the human body. In this romantic region lived the famous mythological princes--_alii kupua_, the Hawaiians called them--named _Kaua-kahi-alii_ and _Aiwohi-kupua_, with their princess sister _Ka-hale-lehua_. The second name mentioned was the one who married the famous heroine of the romantic story of _Laie-i-ka-wai_.] [Footnote 298: _Manu hulu ma'ema'e_. An allusion to the great number of plumage birds that were reputed to be found in this place.] [Footnote 299: _Puna-hele ia Kaua-kahi-alli_. The birds of the region are said to have been on very intimate and friendly terms with Kaua-kahi-alii. (See note _b_, p. 135.)] [Footnote 300: _Kaili_. The full form is said to be _Ka-ili-lau-o-ke-koa_--Skin-like-the-leaf-of-the-koa. In the text of the mele this name is analyzed into its parts and written as if the phrase at the end were an appellative and not an integral part of the name itself. This was a mythical character of unusual beauty, a person of superhuman power, _kupua_, a mistress of the art of surf-riding, which passion she indulged in the waters about Wai-lua.] [Footnote 301: _Hooipo-i-ka-Malanai_. A mythical princess of Wailua, the grandmother of Kaili. This oft-quoted phrase, literally meaning to make love in the (gently-blowing) trade-wind, has become almost a stock expression, standing for romantic love, or love-making.] [Footnote 302: _Lehua-wehe_. The piece of ocean near the mouth of the Wailua river in which Kaili indulged her passion for surf-riding.] [Footnote 303: _Kalu-kalu o Kewá_. _Kalu-kalu_ may mean a species of soft, smooth grass specially fitted for sliding upon, which flourished on the inclined plain of Kewá, Kauai. One would sit upon a mat, the butt end of a coconut leaf, or a sled, while another dragged it along. The Hawaiian name for this sport is _pahe'e_. _Kalu-kalu_ is also the name applied to "a very thin gauze-like kapa." (See Andrews's Hawaiian Dictionary.) If we suppose the poet to have clearly intended the first meaning, the figure does not tally with the following verse, the fifteenth. Verses 14 and 15 would thus be made to read: I desire the kalu-kalu (grass) of Kewá, That is riding the surf of Maka-iwa. This is an impossible figure and makes no sense. If, on the other hand, we take another version and conceive that the bard had in mind the gauze-like robe of _kalu-kalu_--using this, of course, as a figure for the person clad in such a robe--the rendering I have given, I pine for the sylph, robed in gauze, Who rides the surf Maka-iwa, would not only make a possible, but a poetic, picture. Let the critical reader judge which of these two versions hits closer to common sense and probability.] [Translation] _Song._ Come up to the wildwood, come; Let us visit Wai-kini, And gaze on Pihána-ka-lani, [Page 137] Its birds of plumage so fine; 5 Be comrade to Hale-lehua, Soul-mate to Kau'kahi-alii. O, Kaili, Kaili! Kaili, leaf of the koa, Graceful as leaf of the koa, 10 Granddaughter of goddess, Whose name is the breath of love, Darling of blooming Lehua. My lady rides with the gray foam, On the surge that enthralls the desire. 15 I pine for the sylph robed in gauze, Who rides on the surf Maka-iwa-- Aye, cynosure thou of all hearts, In all of sacred Wailua. Forlorn and soul-empty the house; 20 You pleasure on the beach Ali-ó; Your love is up here in the wildwood. This mele hoipoipo, love-song, like the one previously given, is from Kauai. The proper names that abound in it, whether of places, of persons, or of winds, seem to have been mostly of Kauaian origin, furnished by its topography, its myths and legends. They have, however, become the common property of the whole group through having been interwoven in the national songs that pass current from island to island. [Page 138] XXI.--THE MUSIC AND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS OF THE HAWAIIANS A bird is easier captured than the notes of a song. The _mele_ and _oli_ of Hawaii's olden time have been preserved for us; but the music to which they were chanted, a less perdurable essence, has mostly exhaled. In the sudden transition from the tabu system to the new order of things that came in with the death of Kamehameha in 1819, the old fashion of song soon found itself antiquated and outdistanced. Its survival, so far as it did survive, was rather as a memorial and remembrance of the past than as a register of the living emotions of the present. The new music, with its _pa, ko, li_--answering to our do, re, mi[304]--was soon in everybody's mouth. From the first it was evidently destined to enact a role different from that of the old cantillation; none the less the musical ideas that came in with it, the air of freedom from tabu and priestcraft it breathed, and the diatonic scale, the highway along which it marched to conquest, soon produced a noticeable reaction in all the musical efforts of the people. This new seed, when it had become a vigorous plant, began to push aside the old indigenous stock, to cover it with new growths, and, incredible as it may seem, to inoculate it with its own pollen, thus producing a cross which to-day is accepted in certain quarters as the genuine article of Hawaiian song. Even now, the people of northwestern America are listening with demonstrative interest to songs which they suppose to be those of the old hula, but which in reality have no more connection with that institution than our negro minstrelsy has to do with the dark continent. [Footnote 304: The early American missionaries to Hawaii named the musical notes of the scale _pa, ko, li, ha, no, la, mi_.] The one regrettable fact, from a historical point of view, is that a record was not made of indigenous Hawaiian song before this process of substitution and adulteration had begun. It is no easy matter now to obtain the data for definite knowledge of the subject. While the central purpose of this chapter will be a study of the music native to old Hawaii, and especially of that produced in the halau, Hawaiian music of later times and of the present day can not be entirely neglected; nor will it be without its value for the indirect light it will shed on ancient conditions and on racial characteristics. The reaction that has taken place in Hawaii within historic times in response to the stimulus from abroad can not fail to be of [Page 139] interest in itself. There is a peculiarity of the Hawaiian speech which can not but have its effect in determining the lyric tone-quality of Hawaiian music; this is the predominance of vowel and labial sounds in the language. The phonics of Hawaiian speech, we must remember, lack the sounds represented by our alphabetic symbols _b, c_ or _s, d, f, g, j, q, x_, and _z_--a poverty for which no richness in vowel sounds can make amends. The Hawaiian speech, therefore, does not call into full play the uppermost vocal cavities to modify and strengthen, or refine, the throat and mouth tones of the speaker and to give reach and emphasis to his utterances. When he strove for dramatic and passional effect, he did not make his voice resound in the topmost cavities of the voice-trumpet, but left it to rumble and mutter low down in the throat-pipe, thus producing a feature that colors Hawaiian musical recitation. This feature, or mannerism, as it might be called, specially marks Hawaiian music of the bombastic bravura sort in modern times, imparting to it in its strife for emphasis a sensual barbaric quality. It can be described further only as a gurgling throatiness, suggestive at times of ventriloquism, as if the singer were gloating over some wild physical sensation, glutting his appetite of savagery, the meaning of which is almost as foreign to us and as primitive as are the mewing of a cat, the gurgling of an infant, and the snarl of a mother-tiger. At the very opposite pole of development from this throat-talk of the Hawaiian must we reckon the highly-specialized tones of the French speech, in which we find the nasal cavities are called upon to do their full share in modifying the voice-sounds. The vocal execution of Hawaiian music, like the recitation of much of their poetry, showed a surprising mastery of a certain kind of technique, the peculiarity of which was a sustained and continuous outpouring of the breath to the end of a certain period, when the lungs again drank their fill. This seems to have been an inheritance from the old religious style of prayer-recitation, which required the priest to repeat the whole incantation to its finish with the outpour of one lungful of breath. Satisfactory utterance of those old prayer-songs of the Aryans, the _mantras_, was conditioned likewise on its being a one-breath performance. A logical analogy may be seen between all this and that unwritten law, or superstition, which made it imperative for the heroes and demigods, _kupua_, of Hawaii's mythologic age to discontinue any unfinished work on the coming of daylight.[305] [Footnote 305: The author can see no reason for supposing that this prolonged utterance had anything to do with that Hindoo practice belonging to the _yoga_, the exercise of which consists in regulating the breath.] [Page 140] When one listens for the first time to the musical utterance of a Hawaiian poem, it may seem only a monotonous onflow of sounds faintly punctuated by the primary rhythm that belongs to accent, but lacking those milestones of secondary rhythm which set a period to such broader divisions as distinguish rhetorical and musical phrasing. Further attention will correct this impression and show that the Hawaiians paid strict attention not only to the lesser rhythm which deals with the time and accent of the syllable, but also to that more comprehensive form which puts a limit to the verse. With the Hawaiians musical phrasing was arranged to fit the verse of the mele, not to express a musical idea. The cadencing of a musical phrase in Hawaiian song was marked by a peculiarity all its own. It consisted of a prolonged trilling or fluctuating movement called _i'i_, in which the voice went up and down in a weaving manner, touching the main note that formed the framework of the melody, then springing away from it for some short interval--a half of a step, or even some shorter interval--like an electrified pith-ball, only to return and then spring away again and again until the impulse ceased. This was more extensively employed in the oil proper, the verses of which were longer drawn out, than in the mele such as formed the stock pieces of the hula. These latter were generally divided into shorter verses. MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS The musical instruments of the Hawaiians included many classes, and their study can not fail to furnish substantial data for any attempt to estimate the musical performances, attainments, and genius of the people. Of drums, or drumlike instruments of percussion, the Hawaiians had four: 1. The _pahu_, or _pahu-hula_ (pl. x), was a section of hollowed log. Breadfruit and coconut were the woods generally used for this purpose. The tough skin of the shark was the choice for the drumhead, which was held in place and kept tense by tightening cords of coconut fiber, that passed down the side of the cylinder. The workmanship of the pahu, though rude, was of tasteful design. So far as the author has studied them, each pahu was constructed with a diaphragm placed about two-thirds the distance from the head, obtained by leaving in place a cross section of the log, thus making a closed chamber of the drum-cavity proper, after the fashion of the kettledrum. The lower part of the drum also was hollowed out and carved, as will be seen in the illustration. In the carving of all the specimens examined the artists have shown a notable fondness for a fenestrated design representing a series of arches, [Page 141] after the fashion of a two-storied arcade, the haunch of the superimposed arch resting directly on the crown of that below. In one case the lower arcade was composed of Roman,-while the upper was of Gothic, arches. The grace of the design and the manner of its execution are highly pleasing, and suggest the inquiry, Whence came the opportunity for this intimate study of the arch? The tone of the pahu was produced by striking its head with the finger-tips, or with the palm of the hand; never with a stick, so far as the writer has been able to learn. Being both heavy and unwieldly, it was allowed to rest upon the ground, and, if used alone, was placed to the front of the operator; if sounded in connection with the instrument next to be mentioned, it stood at his left side. The pahu, if not the most original, was the most important instrument used in connection with the hula. The drum, with its deep and solemn tones, is an instrument of recognized efficiency in its power to stir the heart to more vigorous pulsations, and in all ages it has been relied upon as a means of inspiring emotions of mystery, awe, terror, sublimity, or martial enthusiasm. Tradition of the most direct sort ascribes the introduction of the pahu to La'a--generally known as La'a-mai-Kahiki (La'a-from-Kahiki)--a prince who flourished about six centuries ago. He was of a volatile, adventurous disposition, a navigator of some renown, having made the long voyage between Hawaii and the archipelagoes in the southern Pacific--Kahiki--not less than twice in each direction. On his second arrival from the South he brought with him the big drum, the pahu, which he sounded as he skirted the coast quite out to sea, to the wonder and admiration of the natives on the land. La'a, being of an artistic temperament and an ardent patron of the hula, at once gave the divine art of Laka the benefit of this newly imported instrument. He traveled from place to place, instructing the teachers and inspiring them with new ideals. It was he also who introduced into the hula the kaékeéke as an instrument of music. 2. The _pu-niu_ (pl. XVI) was a small drum made from the shell of a coconut. The top part, that containing the eyes, was removed, and the shell having been smoothed and polished, the opening was tightly covered with the skin of some scaleless fish--that of the _kala_ (Acanthurus unicornis) was preferred. A venerable kumu-hula states that it was his practice to use only the skin taken from the right side of the fish, because he found that it produced a finer quality of sound than that of the other side. The Hawaiian mind was very insistent on little matters of this sort--the mint, anise, and cummin of their system. The drumhead was stretched and placed in position while moist and flexible, and was then made fast to a ring-shaped cushion--_poaha_--of fiber or tapa that hugged the base of the shell. [Page 142] The Hawaiians sometimes made use of the clear gum of the _kukui_ tree to aid in fixing the drumhead in place. When in use the pu-niu was lashed to the right thigh for the convenience of the performer, who played upon it with a thong of braided fibers held in his right hand (fig. 2), his left thus being free to manipulate the big drum that stood on the other side. Of three pu-niu in the author's collection, one, when struck, gives off the sound of [=c] below the staff; another that of [=c]# below the staff, and a third that of [==c]# in the staff. While the grand vibrations of the pahu filled the air with their solemn tremor, the lighter and sharper tones of the pu-niu gave a piquancy to the effect, adding a feature which may be likened to the sparkling ripples which the breeze carves in the ocean's swell. [Illustration: FIG. 2.--Ka, drumstick for pu-niu. (Pl. XVI.)] 3. The _ipu_ or _ipu-hula_ (pl. VII), though not strictly a drum, was a drumlike instrument. It was made by joining closely together two pear-shaped gourds of large size in such fashion as to make a body shaped like a figure 8. An opening was made in the upper end of the smaller gourd to give exit to the sound. The cavities of the two gourds were thrown into one, thus making a single column of air, which, in vibration, gave off a note of clear bass pitch. An ipu of large size in the author's collection emits the tone of c in the bass. Though of large volume, the tone is of low intensity and has small carrying power. For ease in handling, the ipu is provided about its waist with a loop of cord or tapa, by which device the performer was enabled to manipulate this bulky instrument with one hand. The instrument was sounded by dropping or striking it with well-adjusted force against the padded earth-floor of the Hawaiian house. The manner and style of performing on the ipu varied with the sentiment of the mele, a light and caressing action when the feeling was sentimental or pathetic, wild and emphatic when the subject was such as to stir the feelings with enthusiasm and passion. Musicians inform us that the drum--exception is made in the case of the snare and the kettle drum--is an instrument in which the pitch is a matter of comparative indifference, its function being to mark the time and emphasize the rhythm. [Page 143] There are other elements, it would seem, that must be taken into the account in estimating the value of the drum. Attention may be directed first to its tone-character, the quality of its note which touches the heart in its own peculiar way, moving it to enthusiasm or bringing it within the easy reach of awe, fear, and courage. Again, while, except in the orchestra, the drum and other instruments of percussion may require no exact pitch, still this does not necessarily determine their effectiveness. The very depth and gravity of its pitch, made pervasive by its wealth of overtones, give to this primitive instrument a weird hold on the emotions. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 98 PLATE XVI PU-NIU, A DRUM] This combination of qualities we find well illustrated in the pahu and the ipu, the tones of which range in the lower registers of the human voice. The tone-character of the pu-niu, on the other hand, is more subdued, yet lively and cheerful, by reason in part of the very sharpness of its pitch, and thus affords an agreeable offset to the solemnity of the other two. Ethnologically the pahu is of more world-wide interest than any other member of its class, being one of many varieties of the kettle-drum that are to be found scattered among the tribes of the Pacific, all of them, perhaps, harking back to Asiatic forbears, such as the tom-tom of the Hindus. The sound of the pahu carries one back in imagination to the dread sacrificial drum of the Aztec teocallis and the wild kettles of the Tartar hordes. The drum has cruel and bloody associations. When listening to its tones one can hardly put away a thought of the many times they have been used to drown the screams of some agonized creature. For more purely local interest, inventive originality, and simplicity, the round-bellied ipu takes the palm, a contrivance of strictly Hawaiian, or at least Polynesian, ingenuity. It is an instrument of fascinating interest, and when its crisp rind puts forth its volume of sound one finds his imagination winging itself back to the mysterious caverns of Hawaiian mythology. The gourd, of which the ipu is made, is a clean vegetable product of the fields and the garden, the gift of Lono-wahine--unrecognized daughter of mother Ceres--and is free from all cruel alliances. Fo bleating lamb was sacrificed to furnish parchment for its drumhead. Its associations are as innocent as the pipes of Pan. 4. The _ka-éke-éke_, though not drumlike in form, must be classed as an instrument of percussion from the manner of eliciting its note. It was a simple joint of bamboo, open at one end, the other end being left closed with the diaphragm provided by nature. The tone is produced by striking the closed end of the cylinder, while held in a vertical position, with a sharp blow against some solid, nonresonant body, such as the matted earth floor of the old Hawaiian [Page 144] house. In the author's experiments with the kaékeéke an excellent substitute was found in a bag filled with sand or earth. In choosing bamboo for the kaékeéke it is best to use a variety which is thin-walled and long-jointed, like the indigenous Hawaiian varieties, in preference to such as come from the Orient, all of which are thick-walled and short-jointed, and therefore less resonant than the Hawaiian. The performer held a joint in each hand, the two being of different sizes and lengths, thus producing tones of diverse pitch. By making a proper selection of joints it would be possible to obtain a set capable of producing a perfect musical scale. The tone of the kaékeéke is of the utmost purity and lacks only sustained force and carrying power to be capable of the best effects. An old Hawaiian once informed the writer that about the year 1850, in the reign of Kamehameha III, he was present at a hula kaékeéke given in the royal palace in Honolulu. The instrumentalists numbered six, each one of whom held two bamboo joints. The old man became enthusiastic as he described the effect produced by their performance, declaring it to have been the most charming hula he ever witnessed. 5. The _úli-ulí_ (pl. XI) consisted of a small gourd of the size of one's two fists, into which were introduced shotlike seeds, such as those of the canna. In character it was a rattle, a noise-instrument pure and simple, but of a tone by no means disagreeable to the ear, even as the note produced by a woodpecker drumming on a log is not without its pleasurable effect on the imagination. The illustration of the úliulí faithfully pictured by the artist reproduces a specimen that retains the original simplicity of the instrument before the meretricious taste of modern times tricked it out with silks and feathers. (For a further description of this instrument, see p. 107.) 6. The _pu-íli_ was also a variety of the rattle, made by splitting a long joint of bamboo for half its length into slivers, every alternate sliver being removed to give the remaining ones greater freedom and to make their play the one upon the other more lively. The tone is a murmurous breezy rustle that resembles the notes of twigs, leaves, or reeds struck against one another by the wind--not at all an unworthy imitation of nature-tones familiar to the Hawaiian ear. The performers sat in two rows facing each other, a position that favored mutual action, in which each row of actors struck their instruments against those of the other side, or tossed them back and forth. (For further account of the manner in which the puili was used in the hula of the same name, see p. 113.) 7. The _laau_ was one of the noise-instruments used in the hula. It consisted of two sticks of hard resonant wood, the [Page 145] smaller of which was struck against the larger, producing a clear xylophonic note. While the pitch of this instrument is capable of exact determination, it does not seem that there was any attempt made at adjustment. A laau in the author's collection, when struck, emits tones the predominant one of which is [=d] (below the staff). 8. The _ohe_, or _ohe-hano-ihu_ (fig. 3), is an instrument of undoubted antiquity. In every instance that has come under the author's observation the material has been, as its name--_ohe_--signifies, a simple joint of bamboo, with an embouchure placed about half an inch from the closed end, thus enabling the player to supply the instrument with air from his right nostril. In every nose-flute examined there have been two holes, one 2 or 3 inches away from the embouchure, the older about a third of the distance from the open end of the flute. [Illustration: FIG. 3.--Ohe-hano-ihu, nose-flute.] The musician with his left hand holds the end of the pipe squarely against his lip, so that the right nostril slightly overlaps the edge of the embouchure. The breath is projected into the embouchure with modulated force. A nose-flute in the author's collection with the lower hole open produces the sound of [=f]#; with both holes unstopped it emits the sound [==a]; and when both holes are stopped it produces the sound of [==c]#, a series of notes which are the tonic, mediant, and dominant of the chord of F# minor. An ohe played by an old Hawaiian named Keaonaloa, an inmate of the Lunalilo Home, when both holes were stopped sounded [=f]; with the lower hole open it sounded [==a], and when both holes were open it sounded [===c]. The music made by Keaonaloa with his ohe was curious, but not soul-filling. We must bear in mind, however, that it was intended only as an accompaniment to a poetical recitation. Some fifty or sixty years ago it was not uncommon to see bamboo flutes of native manufacture in the hands of Hawaiian musicians of the younger generation. These instruments were avowedly imitations of the D-flute imported from abroad. The idea of using bamboo for this purpose must have been suggested by its previous use in the nose-flute. "The tonal capacity of the Hawaiian nose-flute," says Miss Jennie Elsner, "which has nothing harsh and strident about it, embraces five tones, [=f] and [==g] in the middle [Page 146] register, and [==f], [=g], and [==a] an octave above. These flutes are not always pitched to the same key, varying half a tone or so." On inquiring of the native who kindly furnished the following illustrations, he stated that he had bored the holes of his ohe without much measurement, trusting to his intuitions and judgment. I--Range of the Nose-flute [Music] The player began with a slow, strongly accented, rhythmical movement, which continued to grow more and more intricate. Rhythmical diminution continued in a most astounding manner until a frenzied climax was reached; in other words, until the player's breath-capacity was exhausted. A peculiar effect, as of several instruments being used at the same time, was produced by the two lower tones being thrown in wild profusion, often apparently simultaneously with one of the upper tones. As the tempo in any one of these increased, the rhythm was lost sight of and a peculiar syncopated effect resulted.[306] [Footnote 306: The writer is indebted to Miss Elsner not only for the above comments but for the following score which she has cleverly arranged as a sample of nose-flute music produced by Keaonaloa.] II--Music from the Nose-flute Arranged by JENNIE ELSNER [Music] 9. The _pu-á_ was a whistle-like instrument. It was made from a gourd of the size of a lemon, and was pierced with three holes, or sometimes only two, one for the nose, by which it [Page 147] was blown, while the others were controlled by the fingers. This instrument has been compared to the Italian ocarina. 10. The _íli-íli_ was a noise-instrument pure and simple. It consisted of two pebbles that were held in the hand and smitten together, after the manner of castanets, in time to the music of the voices. (See p. 120.) 11. The _niau-kani_--singing splinter--was a reed-instrument of a rude sort, made by holding a reed of thin bamboo against a slit cut out in a larger piece of bamboo. This was applied to the mouth, and the voice being projected against it produced an effect similar to that of the Jew's harp. (See p. 132.) 12. Even still more extemporaneous and rustic than any of these is a modest contrivance called by the Hawaiians _pú-la-í_. It is nothing more than a ribbon torn from the green leaf of the _ti_ plant, say three-quarters of an inch to an inch in width by 5 or 6 inches long, and rolled up somewhat after the manner of a lamplighter, so as to form a squat cylinder an inch or more in length. This was compressed to flatten it. Placed between the lips and blown into with proper force, it emits a tone of pure reedlike quality, that varies in pitch, according to the size of the whistle, from G in the middle register to a shrill piping note more than an octave above. The hula girl who showed this simple device offered it in answer to reiterated inquiries as to what other instruments, besides those of more formal make already described, the Hawaiians were wont to use in connection with their informal rustic dances. "This," said she, "was sometimes used as an accompaniment to such informal dancing as was indulged in outside the halau." This little rustic pipe, quickly improvised from the leaf that every Hawaiian garden supplies, would at once convert any skeptic to a belief in the pipes of god Pan. 13. The _ukeké_, the one Hawaiian instrument of its class, is a mere strip of wood bent into the shape of a bow that its elastic force may keep tense the strings that are stretched upon it. These strings, three in number, were originally of sinnet, later after the arrival of the white man, of horsehair. At the present time it is the fashion to use the ordinary gut designed for the violin or the taro-patch guitar. Every ukeké seen followed closely a conventional pattern, which, argues for the instrument a historic age sufficient to have gathered about itself some degree of traditional reverence. One end of the stick is notched or provided with holes to hold the strings, while the other end is wrought into a conventional figure resembling the tail of a fish and serves as an attachment about which to wind the free ends of the strings. No ukeké seen by the author was furnished with pins, pegs, or any similar device to facilitate tuning. Nevertheless, the [Page 148] musician does tune his ukeké, as the writer can testify from his own observation. This Hawaiian musician was the one whose performances on the nose-flute are elsewhere spoken of. When asked to give a sample of his playing on the ukeké, he first gave heed to his instrument as if testing whether it was in tune. He was evidently dissatisfied and pulled at one string as if to loosen it; then, pressing one end of the bow against his lips, he talked to it in a singing tone, at the same time plucking the strings with a delicate rib of grass. The effect was most pleasing. The open cavity of the mouth, acting as a resonator, reenforced the sounds and gave them a volume and dignity that was a revelation. The lifeless strings allied themselves to a human voice and became animated by a living soul. With the assistance of a musical friend it was found that the old Hawaiian tuned his strings with approximate correctness to the tonic, the third and the fifth. We may surmise that this self-trained musician had instinctively followed the principle or rule proposed by Aristoxenus, who directed a singer to sing his most convenient note, and then, taking this as a starting point, to tune the remainder of his strings--the Greek kithara, no doubt--in the usual manner from this one. While the ukeké was used to accompany the mele and the oli, its chief employment was in serenading and serving the young folk in breathing their extemporized songs and uttering their love-talk--_hoipoipo_. By using a peculiar lingo or secret talk of their own invention, two lovers could hold private conversation in public and pour their loves and longings into each other's ears without fear of detection--a thing most reprehensible in savages. This display of ingenuity has been the occasion for outpouring many vials of wrath upon the sinful ukeké. Experiment with the ukeké impresses one with the wonderful change in the tone of the instrument that takes place when its lifeless strings are brought into close relation with the cavity of the mouth. Let anyone having normal organs of speech contract his lips into the shape of an O, make his cheeks tense, and then, with the pulp of his finger as a plectrum, slap the center of his cheek and mark the tone that is produced. Practice will soon enable him to render a full octave with fair accuracy and to perform a simple melody that shall be recognizable at a short distance. The power and range thus acquired will, of course, be limited by the skill of the operator. One secret of the performance lies in a proper management of the tongue. This function of the mouth [Page 149] familiarly illustrated in the jew's-harp. The author is again indebted to Miss Elsner for the following comments on the ukeké: "The strings of this ukeké, the Hawaiian fiddle, are tuned to [=e]; to [=b] and to [=d]. These three strings are struck nearly simultaneously, but the sound being very feeble, it is only the first which, receiving the sharp impact of the blow, gives out enough volume to make a decided impression." III--The Ukeké (as played by Keaonaloa) Arranged by JENNIE ELSNER [Music] The early visitors to these islands, as a rule, either held the music of the savages in contempt or they were unqualified to report on its character and to make record of it. We know that in ancient times the voices of the men as well as of the women were heard at the same time in the songs of the hula. One of the first questions that naturally arises is, Did the men and the women sing in parts or merely in unison? It is highly gratifying to find clear historical testimony on this point from a competent authority. The quotation that follows is from the pen of Capt. James King, who was with Capt. James Cook on the latter's last voyage, in which he discovered the Hawaiian islands (January 18, 1778). The words were evidently penned after the death of Captain Cook, when the writer of them, it is inferred, must have succeeded to the command of the expedition. The fact that Captain King weighs his words, as evidenced in the footnote, and that he appreciates the bearing and significance of his testimony, added to the fact that he was a man of distinguished learning, gives unusual weight to his statements. The subject is one of so great interest and importance, that the whole passage is here quoted.[307] It adds not a little to its value that the writer thereof did not confine his remarks to the music, but enters into a general description of the hula. The only regret is that he did not go still further into details. [Footnote 307: Italics used are those of the present author.] Their dances have a much nearer resemblance to those of the New Zealanders than of the Otaheitians or Friendly Islanders. They are prefaced with a slow, solemn song, in which all the party join, moving their legs, and gently striking their breasts in a manner and with attitudes that are perfectly easy and graceful; and so far they are the same with the dances of the Society Islands. When this has lasted about ten minutes, both the tune and the motions gradually quicken, and [Page 150] end only by their inability to support the fatigue, which part of the performance is the exact counterpart of that of the New Zealanders; and (as it is among them) the person who uses the most violent action and holds out the longest is applauded as the best dancer. It is to be observed that in this dance the women only took part and that the dancing of the men is nearly of the same kind with what we saw at the Friendly Islands; and which may, perhaps, with more propriety, be called the accompaniment of the songs, with corresponding and graceful motions of the whole body. Yet as we were spectators of boxing exhibitions of the same kind with those we were entertained with at the Friendly Islands, it is probable that they had likewise their grand ceremonious dances, in which numbers of both sexes assisted. Their music is also of a ruder kind, having neither flutes nor reeds, nor instruments of any other sort, that we saw, except drums of various sizes. But their songs, _which they sing in parts_, and accompany with a gentle motion of the arms, in the same manner as the Friendly Islanders, had a very pleasing effect. To the above Captain King adds this footnote: As this circumstance of their _singing in parts_ has been much doubted by persons eminently skilled in music, and would be exceedingly curious if it was clearly ascertained, it is to be lamented that it can not be more positively authenticated. Captain Burney and Captain Phillips of the Marines, who have both a tolerable knowledge of music, have given it as their opinion they did sing in parts; that is to say, that they sang together in different notes, which formed a pleasing harmony. These gentlemen have fully testified that the Friendly Islanders undoubtedly studied their performances before they were exhibited in public; that they had an idea of different notes being useful in harmony; and also that they rehearsed their compositions in private and threw out the inferior voices before they ventured to appear before those who were supposed to be judges of their skill in music. In their regular concerts each man had a bamboo[308] which was of a different length and gave a different tone. These they beat against the ground, and each performer, assisted by the note given by this instrument, repeated the same note, accompanying it with words, by which means it was rendered sometimes short and sometimes long. In this manner they sang in chorus, and not only produced octaves to each other, according to their species of voice, but fell on concords such as were not disagreeable to the ear. [Footnote 308: These bamboos were, no doubt, the same as the _kaékeéke_, elsewhere described. (See P. 122.)] Now, to overturn this fact, by the reasoning of persons who did not hear these performances, is rather an arduous task. And yet there is great improbability that any uncivilized people should by accident arrive at this perfection in the art of music, which we imagine can only be attained by dint of study and knowledge of the system and the theory on which musical composition is founded. Such miserable jargon as our country psalm-singers practice, which may be justly deemed the lowest class of counterpoint, or singing in several parts, can not be acquired in the coarse manner in which it is performed in the churches without considerable time and practice. It is, therefore, scarcely credible that a people, semibarbarous, should naturally arrive at any perfection in that art which it is much doubted whether the Greeks and Romans, with all their refinements in music, ever attained, and which the Chinese, who have been longer civilized than any people on the globe, have not yet found out. [Page 151] If Captain Burney (who, by the testimony of his father, perhaps the greatest musical theorist of this or any other age, was able to have done it) has written down in European notes the concords that these people sung, and if these concords had been such as European ears could tolerate, there would have been no longer doubt of the fact; but, as it is, it would, in my opinion, be a rash judgment to venture to affirm that they did or did not understand counterpoint; and therefore I fear that this curious matter must be considered as still remaining undecided. (A Voyage to the Pacific Ocean, undertaken by the command of His Majesty, for making discoveries in the Northern Hemisphere. Performed under the direction of Captains Cook, Clerke, and Gore, in His Majesty's ships the Resolution and Discovery, in the years 1776, 1777, 1778, and 1780, 3 volumes, London, 1784, III, 2d ed., 142, 143, 144.) While we can not but regret that Captain King did not go into detail and inform us specifically what were the concords those old-time people "fell on," whether their songs were in the major or minor key, and many other points of information, he has, nevertheless, put science under obligations to him by his clear and unmistakable testimony to the fact that they did arrange their music in parts. His testimony is decisive: "In this manner they sang in chorus, and not only produced octaves to each other, according to their species of voice, but fell on concords such as were not disagreeable to the ear." When the learned doctor argues that to overturn this fact would be an arduous task, we have to agree with, him--an arduous task indeed. He well knew that one proven fact can overthrow a thousand improbabilities. "What man has done man can do" is a true saying; but it does not thence follow that what man has not done man can not do. If the contention were that the Hawaiians understood counterpoint as a science and a theory, the author would unhesitatingly admit the improbability with a readiness akin to that with, which he would admit the improbability that the wild Australian understood the theory of the boomerang. But that a musical people, accustomed to pitch their voices to the clear and unmistakable notes of bamboo pipes cut to various lengths, a people whose posterity one generation later appropriated the diatonic scale as their own with the greatest avidity and readiness, that this people should recognize the natural harmonies of sound, when they had chanced upon them, and should imitate them in their songs--the improbability of this the author fails to see. The clear and explicit statement of Captain King leaves little to be desired so far as this sort of evidence can go. There are, however, other lines of inquiry that must be developed: 1. The testimony of the Hawaiians themselves on this matter. This is vague. No one of whom inquiry has been made is able to affirm positively the existence of part-singing in the olden times. Most of those with whom the writer has talked are inclined to the view that the ancient cantillation was not in any sense part-singing as now practised. One must not, [Page 152] however, rely too much on such testimony as this, which at the best is only negative. In many cases it is evident the witnesses do not understand the true meaning and bearing of the question. The Hawaiians have no word or expression synonymous with our expression "musical chord." In all inquiries the writer has found it necessary to use periphrasis or to appeal to some illustration. The fact must be borne in mind, however, that people often do a thing, or possess a thing, for which they have no name. 2. As to the practice among Hawaiians at the present time, no satisfactory proof has been found of the existence of any case in which in the cantillations of their own songs the Hawaiians--those uninfluenced by foreign music--have given an illustration of what can properly be termed part-singing; nor can anyone be found who can testify affirmatively to the same effect. Search for it has thus far been as fruitless as pursuit of the will-o'-the-wisp. 3. The light that is thrown on this question by the study of the old Hawaiian musical instruments is singularly inconclusive. If it were possible, for instance, to bring together a complete set of kaekeeke bamboos which were positively known to have been used together at one performance, the argument from the fact of their forming a musical harmony, if such were found to be the case--or, on the other hand, of their producing only a haphazard series of unrelated sounds, if such were the fact--would bring to the decision of the question the overwhelming force of indirect evidence. But such an assortment the author has not been able to find. Bamboo is a frail and perishable material. Of the two specimens of kaekeeke tubes found by him in the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum one was cracked and voiceless; and so the testimony of its surviving partner was of no avail. The Hawaiians of the present day are so keenly alive to musical harmony that it is hardly conceivable that their ancestors two or three generations ago perpetrated discords in their music. They must either have sung in unison or hit on "concords such as were not disagreeable to the ear." If the music heard in the halau to-day in any close degree resembles that of ancient times--it must be assumed that it does--no male voice of ordinary range need have found any difficulty in sounding the notes, nor do they scale so low that a female voice would not easily reach them. Granting, then, as we must, the accuracy of Captain King's statement, the conclusion to which the author of this paper feels forced is that since the time of the learned doctor's visit to these shores, more than one hundred and twenty-eight years ago, the art and practice of singing or cantillating after the old fashion has declined among the Hawaiians. The hula of the old times, in spite of all the efforts to [Page 153] maintain it, is becoming more and more difficult of procurement every day. Almost none of the singing that one hears at the so-called hula performances gotten up for the delectation of sightseers is Hawaiian music of the old sort. It belongs rather to the second or third rattoon-crop, which, has sprung up under the influence of foreign stimuli. Take the published hula songs, such as "_Tomitomi_," "_Wahine Poupou_" and a dozen others that might be mentioned, to say nothing about the words--the music is no more related to the genuine Hawaiian article of the old times than is "ragtime" to a Gregorian chant. The bare score of a hula song, stripped of all embellishments and reduced by the logic of our musical science to the merest skeleton of notes, certainly makes a poor showing and gives but a feeble notion of the song itself--its rhythm, its multitudinous grace-notes, its weird tone-color. The notes given below offer such a skeletal presentation of a song which the author heard cantillated by a skilled hula-master. They were taken down at the author's request by Capt. H. Berger, conductor of the Royal Hawaiian Band: IV--Song from the Hula Pa'i-umauma Arranged by H. BERGER [Music] The same comment may be made on the specimen next to be given as on the previous one: there is an entire omission of the trills and flourishes with which the singer garlanded his scaffolding of song, and which testified of his adhesion to the fashion of his ancestors, the fashion according to which songs have been sung, prayers recited, brave deeds celebrated since the time when Kane and Pele and the other gods dipped paddle for the first time into Hawaiian waters. Unfortunately, in this as in the previous piece and as in the one next to be given, the singer escaped the author before he was able to catch the words. V--Song from the Hula Pa-ipu Arranged by H. BERGER [Music] [Page 154] Here, again, is a piece of song that to the author's ear bears much the same resemblance to the original that an oiled ocean in calm would bear to the same ocean when stirred by a breeze. The fine dimples which gave the ocean its diamond-flash have been wiped out. VI--Song for the Hula Pele Arranged by H. BERGER [Music] Is it our ear that is at fault? Is it not rather our science of musical notation, in not reproducing the fractions of steps, the enharmonics that are native to the note-carving ear of the Chinaman, and that are perhaps essential to the perfect scoring of an oli or mele as sung by a Hawaiian? None of the illustrations thus far given have caught that fluctuating trilling movement of the voice which most musicians interviewed on the subject declare to be impossible of representation, while some flout the assertion that it represents a change of pitch. One is reminded by this of a remark made by Pietro Mascagni:[309] [Footnote 309: The Evolution of Music from the Italian Standpoint, _in_ the Century Library of Music, XVI, 521.] "The feeling that a people displays in its character, its habits, its nature, and thus creates an overprivileged type of music, may be apprehended by a foreign spirit which has become accustomed to the usages and expressions common from that particular people. But popular music, [being] void of any scientific basis, will always remain incomprehensible to the foreigner who seeks to study it technically." When we consider that the Chinese find pleasure in musical performances on instruments that divide the scale into intervals less than half a step, and that the Arabian musical scale included quarter-steps, we shall be obliged to admit that this statement of Mascagni is not merely a fling at our musical science. Here are introduced the words and notes of a musical recitation done after the manner of the hula by a Hawaiian professional and his wife. Acquaintance with the Hawaiian language and a feeling for the allusions connoted in the text of the song would, of course, be a great aid in enabling one to enter into the spirit of the performance. As these [Page 155] adjuncts will, be available to only a very few of those who will read these words, in the beginning are given the words of the oli with which he prefaced the song, with a translation of the same, and then the mele which formed the bulk of the song, also with a translation, together with such notes and comments as are necessary to bring one into intellectual and sympathetic relation with the performance, so far as that is possible under the circumstances. It is especially necessary to familiarize the imagination with the language, meaning, and atmosphere of a mele, because the Hawaiian approached song from the side of the poet and elocutionist. Further discussion of this point must, however, be deferred to another division of the subject: _He Oli_ Halau[310] Hanalei i ka nini a ka ua; Kumano[311] ke po'o-wai a ka liko;[312] Nahá ka opi-wai[313] a a Wai-aloha; O ke kahi koe a hiki i Wai-oli.[314] Ua ike 'a. [Translation] _A Song_ Hanalei is a hall for the dance in the pouring rain; The stream-head is turned from its bed of fresh green; Broken the dam that pent the water of love-- Naught now to hinder its rush to the vale of delight. You've seen it. [Footnote 310: _Halau_. The rainy valley of Hanalei, on Kauai, is here compared to a halau, a dance-hall, apparently because the rain-columns seem to draw together and inclose the valley within walls, while the dark foreshortened vault of heaven covers it as with a roof.] [Footnote 311: _Kumano_. A water-source, or, as here, perhaps, a sort of dam or loose stone wall that was run out into a stream for the purpose of diverting a portion of it into a new channel.] [Footnote 312: _Liko_. A bud; fresh verdure; a word much used in modern Hawaiian poetry.] [Footnote 313: _Opiwai_. A watershed. In Hawaii a knife-edged ridge as narrow as the back of a horse will often decide the course of a stream, turning its direction from one to the other side of the island.] [Footnote 314: _Waioli_ (_wai_, water; _oli_, joyful). The name given to a part of the valley of Hanalei, also the name of a river.] The mele to which the above oli was a prelude is as follows: _Mele_ Noluna ka hale kai, e ka ma'a-lewa, Nana ka maka ia Moana-nui-ka-Lehúa. Noi au i ke kai e mali'o. Ane ku a'e la he lehúa ilaila-- 5 Hopoe Lehúa ki'eki'e. Maka'u ka Lehúa i ke kanáka, Lilo ilalo e hele ai, ilalo, e. Keaau iliili nehe; olelo ke kai o Puna I ka ulu hala la, e, kaiko'o Puna. 10 Ia hoone'ene'e ia pili mai kaua, E ke hoa, ke waiho e mai la oe; Eia ka mea ino, he anu, e. Aohe anu e! Me he mea la iwaho kaua, e ke hoa, 15 Me he wai la ko kaua ili, e. [Page 156] VII--_Oli and Mele from the Hula Ala'a-papa_ _Oli--A prelude_ Arranged by Mrs. YARNDLEY [Music:] [Page 157] [Music: (_4 times r._)] [Translation] _Song from the Hula Ala'a-papa_ From mountain-retreat and root-woven ladder Mine eye looks down on goddess Moana-Lehúa. Then I pray to the Sea, be thou calm; Would there might stand on thy shore a lehúa-- 5 Lehúa tree tall of Hopoe. The Lehúa is fearful of man, Leaves him to walk on the ground below, To walk on the ground far below. The pebbles at Keaau grind in the surf; 10 The sea at Keaau shouts to Puna's palms, "Fierce is the sea of Puna." Move hither, snug close, companion mine; You lie so aloof over there. Oh what a bad fellow is Cold! 15 Not cold, do you say? It's as if we were out in the wold, Our bodies so clammy and chill, friend. EXPLANATORY REMARKS The acute or stress accent is placed over syllables that take the accent in ordinary speech. A word or syllable italicized indicates drum-down-beat. [Page 158] It will be noticed that the stress-accent and the rhythmic accent, marked by the down-beat, very frequently do not coincide. The time marked by the drum-down-beat was strictly accurate throughout. The tune was often pitched on some other key than that in which it is here recorded. This fact was noted when, from time to tune, it was found necessary to have the singer repeat certain passages. The number of measures devoted to the _i'i_, or fluctuation, which is indicated by the wavering line [Illustration:], varied from time to time, even when the singer repeated the same passage. (See remarks on the _i'i_ p. 140.) Redundancies of speech (interpolations) which are in disagreement with the present writer's text (pp. 155-156) are inclosed in brackets. It will be seen that in the fifth verse he gives the version _Maka'u ke kanaka i ka lehua_ instead of the one given by the author, which is _Maka'u ka Lehua i ke kanaká_. Each version has its advocates, and good arguments are made in favor of each. On reaching the end of a measure that coincided with the close of a rhetorical phrase the singer, Kualii, made haste to snatch, as it were, at the first word or syllable of the succeeding phrase. This is indicated by the word "anticipating," or "anticipatory"--written _anticip._--placed over the syllable or word thus snatched. It was somewhat puzzling to determine whether the tones which this man sang were related to each other as five and three of the major key, or as three and one of the minor key. Continued and strained attention finally made it seem evident that it was the major key which he intended, i.e., it was [Music: f] and [Music: d] in the key of [Music: B-flat], rather than [Music: f] and [Music: d] in the key of D minor. ELOCUTION AND RHYTHMIC ACCENT IN HAWAIIAN SONG In their ordinary speech the Hawaiians were good elocutionists--none better. Did they adhere to this same system of accentuation in their poetry, or did they punctuate their phrases and words according to the notions of the song-maker and the conceived exigencies of poetical composition? After hearing and studying this recitation of Kualii the author is compelled to say that he does depart in a great measure from the accent of common speech and charge his words with intonations and stresses peculiar to the mele. What artificial influence has come in to produce this result? Is it from some demand of poetic or of musical rhythm? Which? It was observed that he substituted the soft sound of _t_ for the stronger sound of _k_, "because," as he explained, "the sound of the _t_ is lighter." Thus he said _te tanata_ instead of _ke kanaka_, the man. The Hawaiian ear has always a delicate feeling for tone-color. [Page 159] In all our discussions and conclusions we must bear in mind that the Hawaiian did not approach song merely for its own sake; the song did not sing of itself. First in order came the poem, then the rhythm of song keeping time to the rhythm of the poetry. The Hawaiian sang not from a mere bubbling up of indefinable emotion, but because he had something to say for which he could find no other adequate form of expression. The Hawaiian boy, as he walks the woods, never whistles to keep his courage up. When he paces the dim aisles of Kaliuwa'a, he sets up an altar and heaps on it a sacrifice of fruit and flowers and green leaves, but he keeps as silent as a mouse. During his performance Kualii cantillated his song while handling a round wooden tray in place of a drum; his wife meanwhile performed the dance. This she did very gracefully and in perfect time. In marking the accent the left foot was, if anything, the favorite, yet each foot in general took two measures; that is, the left marked the down-beat in measures 1 and 2, 5 and 6, and so on, while the right, in turn, marked the rhythmic accent that comes with the down-beat in measures 3 and 4, 7 and 8, and so on. During the four steps taken by the left foot, covering the time of two measures, the body was gracefully poised on the other foot. Then a shift was made, the position was reversed, and during two measures the emphasis came on the right foot. The motions of the hands, arms, and of the whole body, including the pelvis--which has its own peculiar orbital and sidelong swing--were in perfect sympathy one part with another. The movements were so fascinating that one was at first almost hypnotized and disqualified for criticism and analytic judgment. Not to derogate from the propriety and modesty of the woman's motions, under the influence of her Delsartian grace one gained new appreciation of "the charm of woven paces and of waving hands." Throughout the whole performance of Kualii and his wife Abi-gaila it was noticed that, while he was the reciter, she took the part of the olapa (see p. 28) and performed the dance; but to this rôle she added that of prompter, repeating to him in advance the words of the next verse, which he then took up. Her verbal memory, it was evident, was superior to his. Experience with Kualii and his partner, as well as with others, emphasizes the fact that one of the great difficulties encountered in the attempt to write out the slender thread of music (_leo_) of a Hawaiian mele and fit to it the words as uttered by the singer arises from the constant interweaving of meaningless vowel sounds. This, which the Hawaiians call _i'i_, is a phenomenon comparable to the weaving of a vine about a framework, or to the [Page 160] pen-flourishes that illuminate old German text. It consists of the repetition of a vowel sound--generally _i_ (=_ee_) or _e_ (=_a_, as in fate), or a rapid interchange of these two. To the ear of the author the pitch varies through an interval somewhat less than a half-step. Exactly what is the interval he can not say. The musicians to whom appeal for aid in determining this point has been made have either dismissed it for the most part as a matter of little or no consequence or have claimed the seeming variation in pitch was due simply to a changeful stress of voice or of accent. But the author can not admit that the report of his senses is here mistaken. A further embarrassment comes from the fact that this tone-embroidery found in the i'i is not a fixed quantity. It varies seemingly with the mood of the singer, so that not unfrequently, when one asks for the repetition of a phrase, it will, quite likely, be given with a somewhat different wording, calling for a readjustment of the rhythm on the part of the musician who is recording the score. But it must be acknowledged that the singer sticks to his rhythm, which, so far as observed, is in common time. In justice to the Hawaiian singer who performs the accommodating task just mentioned it must be said that, under the circumstances in which he is placed, it is no wonder that at times he departs from the prearranged formula of song. His is the difficult task of pitching his voice and maintaining the same rhythm and tempo unaided by instrumental accompaniment or the stimulating movements of the dance. Let any stage-singer make the attempt to perform an aria, or even a simple recitative, off the stage, and without the support--real or imaginary--afforded by the wonted orchestral accompaniment as well as the customary stage-surroundings, and he will be apt to find himself embarrassed. The very fact of being compelled to repeat is of itself alone enough to disconcert almost anyone. The men and women who to-day attempt the forlorn task of reproducing for us a hula mele or an oli under what are to them entirely unsympathetic and novel surroundings are, as a rule, past the prime of life, and not unfrequently acknowledge themselves to be failing in memory. After making all of these allowances we must, it would seem, make still another allowance, which regards the intrinsic nature and purpose of Hawaiian song. It was not intended, nor was it possible under the circumstances of the case, that a Hawaiian song should be sung to an unvarying tempo or to the same key; and even in the words or sounds that make up its fringework a certain range of individual choice was allowed or even expected of the singer. This privilege of exercising individuality might even extend to the solid framework of the mele or oli and not merely to the filigree, the i'i, that enwreathed it. [Page 161] It would follow from this, if the author is correct, that the musical critic of to-day must be content to generalize somewhat and must not be put out if the key is changed on repetition and if tempo and rhythm depart at times from their standard gait. It is questionable if even the experts in the palmy days of the hula attained such a degree of skill as to be faultless and logical in these matters. It has been said that modern music has molded and developed itself under the influence of three causes, (1) a comprehension of the nature of music itself, (2) a feeling or inspiration, and (3) the influence of poetry. Guided by this generalization, it may be said that Hawaiian poetry was the nurse and pedagogue of that stammering infant, Hawaiian music; that the words of the mele came before its rhythmic utterance in song; and that the first singers were the priests and the eulogists. Hawaiian poetry is far ahead of Hawaiian song in the power to move the feelings. A few words suffice the poet with which to set the picture before one's eyes, and one picture quickly follows another; whereas the musical attachment remains weak and colorless, reminding one of the nursery pictures, in which a few skeletal lines represent the human frame. Let us now for refreshment and in continued pursuit of our subject listen to a song in the language and spirit of old-time Hawaii, composed, however, in the middle of the nineteenth century. It is given as arranged by Miss Lillian Byington, who took it down as she heard it sung by an old Hawaiian woman in the train of Queen Liliuokalani, and as the author has since heard it sung by Miss Byington's pupils of the Kamehameha School for Girls. The song has been slightly idealized, perhaps, by trimming away some of the superfluous i'i, but not more than is necessary to make it highly acceptable to our ears and not so much as to take from it the plaintive bewitching tone that pervades the folk-music of Hawaii. The song, the mele, is not in itself much--a hint, a sketch, a sweep of the brush, a lilt of the imagination, a connotation of multiple images which no jugglery of literary art can transfer into any foreign speech. Its charm, like that of all folk-songs and of all romance, lies in its mysterious tug at the heartstrings. [Page 162] VIII--He Inoa no Kamehameha (Old Mele--Kindness of H.R.H. Liliuokalani) Arranged by LILLIAN BYINGTON [Music:] _He Inoa no Kamehameha_ Aia i Waipi'o[315] Paka'alana,[316] Paepae[317] kapu ia o Liloa.[318] He aloha ka wahine pi'i ka pali,[319] Puili ana i ka hua ulei, 5 I ka ai mo'a i ka lau laau.[320] Hoolaau[321] mai o ka welowelo. Ua pe'e pa Kai-a-ulu o Waimea,[322] Ua ola i ku'u kai,[323] Keoloewa,[324] e. [Footnote 315: _Waipi'o_. A deep valley on the windward side of Hawaii.] [Footnote 316: _Paka'alana_. A temple and the residence of King Liloa in Waipi'o.] [Footnote 317: _Paepae_. The doorsill (of this temple), always an object of superstitious regard, but especially so in the case of this temple. Here it stands for the whole temple.] [Footnote 318: _Liloa_. A famous king of Hawaii who had his seat in Waipi'o.] [Footnote 319: _Wahine pii ka pali_, Haina-kolo, a mythical character, is probably the one alluded to. She married a king of Kukulu o Kahiki, and, being deserted by him, swam back to Hawaii. Arrived at Waipi'o in a famishing state, she climbed the heights and ate of the _ulei_ berries without first propitiating the local deity with a sacrifice. As an infliction of the offended deity, she became distraught and wandered away into the wilderness. Her husband repented of his neglect and after long search found her. Under kind treatment she regained her reason and the family was happily reunited.] [Footnote 320: _Lau laau_. Leaves of plants.] [Footnote 321: _Hoolaau_. The last part of this word, _laau_, taken in connection with the last word of the previous verse, form a capital instance of word repetition. This was an artifice much used in Hawaiian poetry, both as a means of imparting tone-color and for the punning wit it was supposed to exhibit.] [Footnote 322: _Ua pe'e pa Kai-a-ulu o Waimea_. _Kai-a-ulu_ is a fierce rain-squall such as arises suddenly in the uplands of Waimea, Hawaii. The traveler, to protect himself, crouches (_pe'e_) behind a hummock of grass, or builds up in all haste a barricade (_pa_) of light stuff as a partial shelter against the oncoming storm.] [Footnote 323: _Kai_. Taken in connection with _Kai-a-ulu_ in the preceding verse, this is another instance of verse repetition. This word, the primary meaning of which is sea, or ocean, is used figuratively to represent a source of comfort or life.] [Footnote 324: _Keoloewa_. The name of one of the old gods belonging to the class called _akua noho_, a class of deities that were sent by the necromancers on errands of demoniacal possession.] [Page 163] [Translation] _A Name-song of Kamehameha_ In Waipi'o stands Paka'alana, The sacred shrine of Liloa. Love to the woman climbing the steep, Who gathered the ulei berries, 5 Who ate of the uncooked herbs of the wild, 5 Craving the swaying fruit like a hungry child. A covert I found from the storm, Life in my sea of delight. The text of this mele--said to be a name-song of Kamehameha V--as first secured had undergone some corruption which obscured the meaning. By calling to his aid an old Hawaiian in whose memory the song had long been stored the author was able to correct it. Hawaiian authorities are at variance as to its meaning. One party reads in it an exclusive allusion to characters that have flitted across the stage within the memory of people now living, while another, taking a more romantic and traditional view, finds in it a reference to an old-time myth--that of _Ke-anini-ula-o-ka-lani_--the chief character in which was _Haina-kolo_. (See note _e_.) After carefully considering both sides of the question it seems to the author that, while the principle of double allusion, so common in Hawaiian poetry, may here prevail, one is justified in giving prominence to the historico-mythological interpretation that is inwoven in the poem. It is a comforting thought that adhesion to this decision will suffer certain unstaged actions of crowned heads to remain in charitable oblivion. The music of this song is an admirable and faithful interpretation of the old Hawaiian manner of cantillation, having received at the hands of the foreign musician only so much trimming as was necessary to idealize it and make it reducible to our system of notation. EXPLANATORY NOTE _Hoaeae_.--This term calls for a quiet, sentimental style of recitation, in which the fluctuating trill i'i, if it occurs at all, is not made prominent. It is contrasted with the _olioli_, in which the style is warmer and the fluctuations of the i'i are carried to the extreme. Thus far we have been considering the traditional indigenous music of the land. To come now to that which has been and is being produced in Hawaii by Hawaiians to-day, under influences from abroad, it will not be possible to mistake the presence in it of two strains: The foreign, showing its hand in the lopping away of much redundant foliage, has brought it largely within the compass of scientific and technical expression; the native element reveals itself, now [Page 164] in plaintive reminiscence and now in a riotous _bonhommie_, a rollicking love of the sensuous, and in a style of delivery and vocal technique which demands a voluptuous throatiness, and which must be heard to be appreciated. The foreign influence has repressed and well-nigh driven from the field the monotonous fluctuations of the i'i, has lifted the starveling melodies of Hawaii out of the old ruts and enriched them with new notes, thus giving them a spring and _élan_ that appeal alike to the cultivated ear and to the popular taste of the day. It has, moreover, tapped the springs of folk-song that lay hidden in the Hawaiian nature. This same influence has also caused to germinate a Hawaiian appreciation of harmony and has endowed its music with new chords, the tonic and dominant, as well as with those of the subdominant and various minor chords. The persistence of the Hawaiian quality is, however, most apparent in the language and imagery of the song-poetry. This will be seen in the text of the various mele and oli now to be given. Every musician will also note for himself the peculiar intervals and shadings of these melodies as well as the odd effects produced by rhythmic syncopation. The songs must speak for themselves. The first song to be given, though dating from no longer ago than about the sixth decade of the last century, has already scattered its wind-borne seed and reproduced its kind in many variants, after the manner of other folklore. This love-lyric represents a type, very popular in Hawaii, that has continued to grow more and more personal and subjective in contrast with the objective epic style of the earliest Hawaiian mele. IX--Song, Poli Anuanu Arranged by Mrs. YARNDLEY _Andante cantabile_ [Music] [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XVII HAWAIIAN MUSICIAN PLAYING ON THE UKU-LELE (By permission of Hubert Voss)] [Page 165] _Poli Anuanu_ 1. Aloha wale oe, Poli anuanu; Máeéle au I ke ánu, e. 2. He anu e ka ua, He anu e ka wai, Li'a kuu ill I ke anu, e. 3. Ina paha, Ooe a owau Ka i pu-kukú'i, I ke anu, e. He who would translate this love-lyric for the ear as well as for the mind finds himself handicapped by the limitations of our English speech--its scant supply of those orotund vowel sounds which flow forth with their full freight of breath in such words as _a-ló-ha_, _pó-li_, and _á-nu-á-nu_. These vocables belong to the very genius of the Hawaiian tongue. [Translation] _Cold Breast_ 1. Love fain compels to greet thee, Breast so cold, so cold. Chilled, benumbed am I With the pinching cold. 2. How bitter cold the rainfall, Bitter cold the stream, Body all a-shiver, From the pinching cold. 3. Pray, what think you? What if you and I Should our arms enfold, Just to keep off the cold? The song next given, dating from a period only a few years subsequent, is of the same class and general character as Poli Anuanu. Both words and music are peculiarly Hawaiian, though one may easily detect the foreign influence that presided over the shaping of the melody. [Page 166] X--Song, Hua-hua'i Arranged by Mrs. YARNDLEY Moderato [Music:] _Huahua'i_ He aloha wau ia oe, I kau hana, hana pono; La'i ai ke kaunu me ia la, Hoapaapa i ke kino. _Chorus_: Kaua i ka huahua'i, E uhene la'i pili koolua, Pu-kuku'i aku i ke koekoe, Anu lipo i ka palai. [Page 167] [Translation] _Outburst_ O my love goes out to thee, For thy goodness and thy kindness. Fancy kindles at that other, Stirs, with her arts, my blood. _Chorus:_ You and I, then, for an outburst! Sing the joy of love's encounter, Join arms against the invading damp, Deep chill of embowering ferns. The following is given, not for its poetical value and significance, but rather as an example of a song which the trained Hawaiian singer delights to roll out with an unctuous gusto that bids defiance to all description: XI--Song, Ka Mawae By permission of the Hawaiian News Co., of Honolulu Arranged by H. BERGER [Music:] NOTE.--The music to which this hula song is set was produced by a member of the Hawaiian Band, Mr. Solomon A. Hiram, and arranged by Capt. H. Berger, to whom the author is indebted for permission to use it. _Ka Mawae_ A e ho'i ke aloha i ka mawae, I ke Kawelu-holu, Papi'ohúli.[325] Huli mai kou alo, ua anu wau, Ua pulu i ka ua, malule o-luna. [Footnote 325: _Papi'o-huli_. A slope in the western valley-side at the head of Nuuanu, where the tall grass (_kawelu_) waves (_holu_) in the wind.] [Page 168] [Translation] _The Refuge_ Return, O love, to the refuge, The wind-tossed covert of Papi'ohúli. Face now to my face; I'm smitten with cold, Soaked with the rain and benumbed. XII--Like no a Like By permission of the Hawaiian News Co. (Ltd.) Arranged by H. BERGER [Music] _Like no a Like_ 1. Ua like no a like Me ka ua kani-lehua; Me he la e i mai ana, Aia ilaila ke aloha. _Chorus_: Ooe no ka'u i upu ai, Ku'u lei hiki ahiahi, O ke kani o na manu, I na hora o ke aumoe. 2. Maanei mai kaua, He welina pa'a i ka piko, A nau no wau i imi mai, A loaa i ke aheahe a ka makani. _Chorus_. [Page 169] [Translation] _Resemblance_ 1. When the rain drums loud on the leaf, It makes me think of my love; It whispers into my ear, Your love, your love--she is near. _Chorus_: Thou art the end of my longing, The crown of evening's delight, When I hear the cock blithe crowing, In the middle watch of the night. 2. This way is the path for thee and me, A welcome warm at the end. I waited long for thy coming, And found thee in waft of the breeze. _Chorus_. XIII--Song, Pili Aoao By permission of the Hawaiian News Co. (Ltd.) Arranged by H. BEEGER [Music] NOTE.--The composer of the music and the author of the mele was a Hawaiian named John Meha, of the Hawaiian Band, who died some ten years ago, at the age of 40 years. 1. O ka ponaha iho a ke ao. Ka pipi'o malie maluna, Ike oe i ka hana, mikiala, Nowelo i ka pili aoao. _Chorus_: Maikai ke aloha a ka ipo-- Hana mao ole i ka puuwai, Houhou liilii i ka poli-- Nowelo i ka pili aoao. 2. A mau ka pili'na olu pono; Huli a'e, hooheno malie, Hanu liilii nahenahe, Nowelo i ka pili aoao. _Chorus_. [Page 170] The author of the mele was a Hawaiian named John Meha, who died some years ago. He was for many years a member of the Hawaiian Band and set the words to the music given below, which has since been arranged by Captain Berger. [Translation] _Side by Side_ 1. Outspreads now the dawn, Arching itself on high-- But look! a wondrous thing, A thrill at touch of the side. _Chorus_: Most dear to the soul is a love-touch; Its pulse stirs ever the heart And gently throbs in the breast-- At thrill from the touch of the side. 2. In time awakes a new charm As you turn and gently caress; Short comes, the breath--at The thrill from the touch of the side. _Chorus_. The fragments of Hawaiian music that have drifted down to us no doubt remain true to the ancient type, however much they may have changed in quality. They show the characteristics that stamp all primitive music--plaintiveness to the degree almost of sadness, monotony, lack of acquaintance with the full range of intervals that make up our diatonic scale, and therefore a measurable absence of that ear-charm we call melody. These are among its deficiencies. If, on the other hand, we set down the positive qualities by the possession of which it makes good its claim to be classed as music, we shall find that it has a firm hold on rhythm. This is indeed one of the special excellencies of Hawaiian music. Added to this, we find that it makes a limited use of such-intervals as the third, fifth, fourth, and at the same time resorts extravagantly, as if in compensation, to a fine tone-carving that divides up the tone-interval into fractions so much less than the semitone that our ears are almost indifferent to them, and are at first inclined to deny their existence. This minute division of the tone, or step, and neglect at the same time of the broader harmonic intervals, reminds one of work in which the artist charges his picture with unimportant detail, while failing in attention to the strong outlines. Among its merits we must not forget to mention a certain quality of tone-color which inheres in the Hawaiian tongue and which greatly tends to the enhancement of Hawaiian music, especially when thrown into rhythmic forms. The first thing, then, to repeat, that will strike the auditor on listening to this primitive music will be its lack of melody. The voice goes wavering and lilting along like a canoe on a rippling ocean. [Illustration: PLATE XVIII HALA FRUIT BUNCH AND DRUPE WITH A "LEI" (PANDANUS ODORATISSIMUS)] [Page 171] Then, of a sudden, it swells upward, as if lifted by some wave of emotion; and there for a time it travels with the same fluctuating movement, soon descending to its old monotone, until again moved to rise on the breast of some fresh impulse. The intervals sounded may be, as already said, a third, or a fifth, or a fourth; but the whole movement leads nowhere; it is an unfinished sentence. Yet, in spite of all these drawbacks and of this childish immaturity, the amateur and enthusiast finds himself charmed and held as if in the clutch of some Old-World spell, and this at what others will call the dreary and monotonous intoning of the savage. In matters that concern the emotions it is rarely possible to trace with certainty the lines that lead up from effect to cause. Such is the nature of art. If we would touch the cause which lends attractiveness to Hawaiian music, we must look elsewhere than to melody. In the belief of the author the two elements that conspire for this end are rhythm and tone-color, which comes of a delicate feeling for vowel-values. The hall-mark of Hawaiian music is rhythm, for the Hawaiians belong to that class of people who can not move hand or foot or perform any action except they do it rhythmically. Not alone in poetry and music and the dance do we find this recurring accent of pleasure, but in every action of life it seems to enter as a timekeeper and regulator, whether it be the movement of a fingerful of poi to the mouth or the swing of a _kahili_ through the incense-laden air at the burial of a chief. The typical Hawaiian rhythm is a measure of four beats, varied at times by a 2-rhythm, or changed by syncopation into a 3-rhythm. These people have an emotional susceptibility and a sympathy with environment that belongs to the artistic temperament; but their feelings, though easily stirred, are not persistent and ideally centered; they readily wander away from any example or pattern. In this way may be explained their inclination to lapse from their own standard of rhythm into inexplicable syncopations. As an instance of sympathy with environment, an experience with a hula dancer may be mentioned. Wishing to observe the movement of the dance in time with the singing of the mele, the author asked him to perform the two at one time. He made the attempt, but failed. At length, bethinking himself, he drew off his coat and bound it about his loins after the fashion of a pa-ú, such as is worn by hula dancers. He at once caught inspiration, and was thus enabled to perform the double rôle of dancer and singer. It has been often remarked by musical teachers who have had experience with these islanders that as singers they are prone to flat the tone and to drag the time, yet under the stimulus of emotion they show the ability to acquit themselves in these respects with great credit. The native [Page 172] inertia of their being demands the spur of excitement to keep them up to the mark. While human nature everywhere shares in this weakness, the tendency seems to be greater in the Hawaiian than in some other races of no higher intellectual and esthetic advancement. Another quality of the Hawaiian character which reenforces this tendency is their spirit of communal sympathy. That is but another way of saying that they need the stimulus of the crowd, as well as of the occasion, even to make them keep step to the rhythm of their own music. In all of these points they are but an epitome of humanity. Before closing this special subject, the treatment of which has grown to an unexpected length, the author feels constrained to add one more illustration of Hawaii's musical productions. The Hawaiian national hymn on its poetical side may be called the last appeal of royalty to the nation's feeling of race-pride. The music, though by a foreigner, is well suited to the words and is colored by the environment in which the composer has spent the best years of his life. The whole production seems well fitted to serve as the clarion of a people that need every help which art and imagination can offer. XIV--Hawaii Ponoí Words by King KALAKAUA Composed by H. BERGER [Music:] [Illustration: PU (TRITON TRITONIS) BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XIX] [Page 173] [Page 174] _HAWAI'I PONOI_ 1. Hawai'i ponoi, Nana i kou Moi, Ka lani Ali'i, Ke Ali'i. _Refrain_: Makua lani, e, Kamehameha, e, Na kaua e pale, Me ka ihe. 2. Hawai'i ponoi, Nana i na 'li'i, Na pua muli kou, Na poki'i. _Refrain_: 3. Hawai'i ponoi E ka lahui, e, O kau hana nui E ui, e. _Refrain_. [Page 175] [Translation] _Hawaii Ponoi_ 1. Hawaii's very own, Look to your sovran Lord, Your chief that's heaven-born, Who is your King. _Refrain_: Protector, heaven-sent, Kamehameha great, To vanquish every foe, With conquering spear. 2. Men of Hawaii's land, Look to your native chiefs, Your sole surviving lords, The nation's pride. _Refrain_: 3. Men of Hawaiian stock, My nation ever dear, With loins begirt for work, Strive with your might. _Refrain_. [Page 176] XXII.--GESTURE Gesture is a voiceless speech, a short-hand dramatic picture. The Hawaiians were adepts in this sort of art. Hand and foot, face and eye, and those convolutions of gray matter which are linked to the organs of speech, all worked in such harmony that, when the man spoke, he spoke not alone with his vocal organs, but all over, from head to foot, every part adding its emphasis to the utterance. Von Moltke could be reticent in six languages; the Hawaiian found it impossible to be reticent in one. The hands of the hula dancer are ever going out in gesture, her body swaying and pivoting itself in attitudes of expression. Her whole physique is a living and moving picture of feeling, sentiment, and passion. If the range of thought is not always deep or high, it is not the fault of her art, but the limitations of her original endowment, limitations of hereditary environment, the universal limitations imposed on the translation from spirit into matter. The art of gesture was one of the most important branches taught by the kumu. When the hula expert, the _olohe_, who has entered the halau as a visitor, utters the prayer (p. 47), "O Laka, give grace to the feet of Pohaku, and to her bracelets and anklets; give comeliness to the figure and skirt of Luukia. To each one give gesture and voice. O Laka, make beautiful the _lei_; inspire the dancers to stand before the assembly," his meaning was clear and unmistakable, and showed his high valuation of this method of expression. We are not, however, to suppose that the kumu-hula, whatever his artistic attainments, followed any set of formulated doctrines in his teaching. His science was implicit, unformulated, still enfolded in the silence of unconsciousness, wrapped like a babe in its mother's womb. To apply a scientific name to his method, it might be called inductive, for he led his pupils along the plain road of practical illustration, adding example to example, without the confusing aid of preliminary rule or abstract proposition, until his pupils had traveled over the whole ground covered by his own experience. Each teacher went according to the light that was in him, not forgetting the instructions of his own kumu, but using them as a starting point, a basis on which to build as best he knew. There were no books, no manuals of instruction, to pass from hand to hand and thus secure uniformity of instruction. Then, again, it was a long journey from Hawaii to Kauai, or [Page 177] even from one island to another. The different islands, as a rule, were not harnessed to one another under the same political yoke; even districts of the same island were not unfrequently under the independent sway of warring chiefs; so that for long periods the separation, even the isolation, in matters of dramatic art and practice was as complete as in politics. The method pursued by the kumu may be summarized as follows: Having labored to fix the song, the mele or oli, in the minds of his pupils, the _haumana_, he appointed some one to recite the words of the piece, while the class, standing with close attention to the motions of the kumu and with ears open at the same time to the words of the leader, were required to repeat the kumu's gestures in pantomime until he judged them to have arrived at a sufficient degree of perfection. That done, the class took up the double task of recitation joined to that of gesture. In his attempt to translate his concepts into physical signs the Hawaiian was favored not only by his vivid power of imagination, but by his implicit philosophy, for the Hawaiian, looked at things from a physical plane--a safe ground to stand upon--albeit he had glimpses at times far into the depths of ether. When he talked about spirit, he still had in mind a form of matter. A god was to him but an amplified human being. It is not the purpose to attempt a scientific classification of gesture as displayed in the halau. The most that can be done will be to give a few familiar generic illustrations which are typical and representative of a large class. The _pali_, the precipice, stands for any difficulty or obstacle of magnitude. The Hawaiian represents this in his dramatic, pictorial manner with the hand vertically posed on the outstretched arm, the palm of the hand looking away. If it is desired to represent this wall of obstacle as being surmounted, the hand is pushed forward, and at the same time somewhat inclined, perhaps, from its rigid perpendicularity, the action being accompanied by a series of slight lifting or waving movements as of climbing. Another way of dramatically picturing this same concept, that of the pali as a wall of obstacle, is by holding the forearm and hand vertically posed with the palmar aspect facing the speaker. This method of expression, while perhaps bolder and more graphic than that before mentioned, seems more purely oratorical and less graceful, less subtly pictorial and elegant than the one previously described, and therefore less adapted to the hula. For it must be borne in mind that the hula demanded the subordination of strength to grace and elegance. We may at the same time be sure that the halau showed individuality in its choice of methods, that it varied its technique and manner of expression at different times and places, according to the different conception of one or another kumu. [Page 178] Progression, as in walking or traveling, is represented by means of a forward undulatory movement of the outstretched arm and hand, palm downward, in a horizontal plane. This gesture is rhythmic and beautifully pictorial. If the other hand also is made a partner in the gesture, the significance would seem to be extended, making it include, perhaps, a larger number in the traveling company. The mere extension of the arm, the back-hand advanced, would serve the purpose of indicating removal, travel, but in a manner less gracious and caressing. To represent an open level space, as of a sand-beach or of the earth-plain, the Hawaiian very naturally extended his arms and open hands--palms downward, of course--the degree of his reaching effort being in a sense a measure of the scope intended. To represent the act of covering or protecting oneself with clothing, the Hawaiian placed the hollow of each hand over the opposite shoulder with a sort of hugging action. But here, again, one can lay down no hard and fast rule. There was differentiation; the pictorial action might well vary according to the actor's conception of the three or more generic forms that constituted the varieties of Hawaiian dress, which were the _málo_ of the man, the _pa-ú_ of the woman, and the decent _kiheí_, a toga-like robe, which, like the blanket of the North American Indian, was common to both sexes. Still another gesture, a sweeping of the hands from the shoulder down toward the ground, would be used to indicate that costly feather robe, the _ahuula_, which was the regalia and prerogative of kings and chiefs. The Hawaiian places his hands, palms up, edge to edge, so that the little finger of one hand touches its fellow of the other hand. By this action he means union or similarity. He turns one palm down, so that the little finger and thumb of opposite hands touch each other. The significance of the action is now wholly reversed; he now means disunion, contrariety. To indicate death, the death of a person, the finger-tips, placed in apposition, are drawn away from each other with a sweeping gesture and at the same time lowered till the palms face the ground. In this case also we find diversity. One old man, well acquainted with hula matters, being asked to signify in pantomimic fashion "the king is sick," went through the following motions: He first pointed upward, to indicate the heaven-born one, the king; then he brought his hands to his body and threw his face into a painful grimace. To indicate the death of the long he threw his hands upward toward the sky, as if to signify a removal by flight. He admitted the accuracy of the gesture, previously described, in which the hands are moved toward the ground. There are, of course, imitative and mimetic gestures galore, as of paddling, swimming, diving, angling, and the like, [Page 179] which one sees every day of his life and which are to be regarded as parts of that universal shorthand vocabulary of unvocalized speech that is used the world over from Naples to Honolulu, rather than stage-conventions of the halau. It will suffice to mention one motion or gesture of this sort which the author has seen used with dramatic effect. An old man was describing the action of Hiiaka (the little sister of Pele) while clearing a passage for herself and her female companion with a great slaughter of the reptilian demon-horde of _ma'o_ that came out in swarms to oppose the progress of the goddess through their territory while she was on her way to fetch Prince Lohiau. The goddess, a delicate piece of humanity in her real self, made short work of the little devils who covered the earth and filled the air. Seizing one after another, she bit its life out, or swallowed it as if it had been a shrimp. The old man represented the action most vividly: pressing his thumb, forefinger, and middle finger into a cone, he brought them quickly to his mouth, while he snapped his jaws together like a dog seizing a morsel, an action that pictured the story better than any words. It might seem at first blush that facial expression, important as it is, owing to its short range of effectiveness, should hardly be put in the same category with what may be called the major stage-gestures that were in vogue in the halau. But such a judgment would certainly be mistaken. The Greek use of masks on the stage for their "carrying power" testified to their valuation of the countenance as a semaphore of emotion; at the same time their resort to this artifice was an implicit recognition of the desirability of bringing the window of the soul nearer to the audience. The Hawaiians, though they made no use of masks in the halau, valued facial expression no less than the Greeks. The means for the study of this division of the subject, from the nature of the case, is somewhat restricted and the pursuit of illustrations makes it necessary to go outside of the halau. The Hawaiian language was one of hospitality and invitation. The expression _mai_, or _komo mai_, this way, or come in, was the most common of salutations. The Hawaiian sat down to meat before an open door; he ate his food in the sight of all men, and it was only one who dared being denounced as a churl who would fail to invite with word and gesture the passer-by to come in and share with him. This gesture might be a sweeping, downward, or sidewise motion of the hand in which the palm faced and drew toward the speaker. This seems to have been the usual form when the two parties were near to each other; if they were separated by any considerable distance, the fingers would perhaps more likely be turned upward, thus making the signal more distinctly visible and at the same time more emphatic. [Page 180] In the expression of unvoiced assent and dissent the Hawaiian practised refinements that went beyond our ordinary conventions. To give assent he did not find it necessary so much as to nod the head; a lifting of the eyebrows sufficed. On the other hand, the expression of dissent was no less simple as well as decisive, being attained by a mere grimace of the nose. This manner of indicating dissent was not, perhaps, without some admixture of disdain or even scorn; but that feeling, if predominant, would call for a reenforcement of the gesture by some additional token, such as a pouting of the lips accompanied by an upward toss of the chin. A more impersonal and coldly businesslike way of manifesting a negative was by an outward sweep of the hand, the back of the hand being turned to the applicant. Such a gesture, when addressed to a huckster or a beggar--a rare bird, by the way, in old Hawaii--was accepted as final. There was another method of signifying a most emphatic, even contemptuous, no. In this the tongue is protruded and allowed to hang down flat and wide like the flaming banner of a panting hound. A friend states that the Maoris made great use of gestures with the tongue in their dances, especially in the war-dance, sometimes letting it hang down broad, flat, and long, directly in front, sometimes curving it to right or left, and sometimes stuffing it into the hollow of the cheek and puffing out one side of the face. This manner--these methods it might be said--of facial expression, so far as observed and so far as can be learned, were chiefly of feminine practice. The very last gesture--that of the protruded tongue--is not mentioned as one likely to be employed on the stage in the halau, certainly not in the performance of what one would call the serious hulas. But it might well have been employed in the hula ki'i (see p. 91), which was devoted, as we have seen, to the portrayal of the lighter and more comic aspects of daily life. It is somewhat difficult to interpret the meaning of the various attitudes and movements of the feet and legs. Their remoteness from the centers of emotional control, their detachment from the vortices of excitement, and their seeming restriction to mechanical functions make them seem but slightly sympathetic with those tides of emotion that speed through the vital parts of the frame. But, though somewhat aloof from, they are still under the dominion of, the same emotional laws that govern the more central parts. Man is all sympathy one part with another; For head with, heart hath joyful amity, And both with moon and tides. The illustrations brought to illuminate this division of the subject will necessarily be of the most general application and will seem to belong rather to the domain of oratory than [Page 181] to that of dramatic or stage expression, by which is meant expression fitted for the purposes of the halau. [Illustration: PHYLLODIA AND TRUE LEAVES OF THE KOA (ACACIA KOA) BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XX] To begin with a general proposition, the attitude of the feet and legs must be sympathetic with that of the other parts of the body. When standing squarely on both feet and looking directly forward, the action may be called noncommittal, general; but if the address is specialized and directed to a part of the audience, or if attention is called to some particular region, the face will naturally turn in that direction. To attain this end, while the leg and arm of the corresponding side will be drawn back, the leg and arm of the opposite side will be advanced, thus causing the speaker to face the point of address. If the speaker or the actor addresses himself, then, to persons, or to an object, on his right, the left leg will be the one more in advance and the left arm will be the one on which the burden of gesture will fall, and vice versa. It would be a mistake to suppose that every motion or gesture displayed by the actors on the stage of the halau was significant of a purpose. To do that would be to ascribe to them a flawless perfection and strength that no body of artists have ever attained. Many of their gestures, like the rhetoric of a popular orator, were mere flourishes and ornaments. With a language so full of seemingly superfluous parts, it could not well be otherwise than that their rhetoric of gesture should be overloaded with flourishes. The whole subject of gesture, including facial expression, is worthy of profound study, for it is linked to the basic elements of psychology. The illustrations adduced touch only the skirts of the subject; but they must suffice. An exhaustive analysis, the author believes, would show an intimate and causal relation between these facial expressions and the muscular movements that are the necessary accompaniments or resultants of actual speech. To illustrate, the pronunciation of the Hawaiian word _ae_ (pronounced like our aye), meaning "yes," involves the opening of the mouth to its full extent; and this action, when accomplished, results in a sympathetic lifting of the eyebrows. It is this ultimate and completing part of the action which the Hawaiian woman adopts as her semaphore of assent. One of the puzzling things about gesture comes when we try to think of it as a science rooted in psychology. It is then we discover variations presented by different peoples in different lands, which force us to the conviction that in only a part of its domain does it base itself on the strict principles of psychology. Gesture, like language, seems to be made up in good measure of an opportunist growth that springs up in answer to man's varying needs and conditions. The writer hopes he will not be charged with begging the question in suggesting that another element which we must [Page 182] reckon with as influential in fashioning and stereotyping gesture is tradition and convention. To illustrate--the actor who took the rôle of Lord Dundreary in the first performance of the play of the same name accidentally made a fantastic misstep while crossing the stage. The audience was amused, and the actor, quick to avail himself of any open door, followed the lead thus hinted at. The result is that he won great applause and gave birth to a mannerism which has well-nigh become a stage convention. [Page 183] XXIII.--THE HULA PA-HUA The hula _pa-hua_ was a dance of the classical times that has long been obsolete. Its last exhibition, so far as ascertained, was in the year 1846, on the island of Oahu. In this performance both the olapa and the hoopaa cantillated the mele, while the latter squatted on the floor. Each one was armed with a sharp stick of wood fashioned like a javelin, or a Hawaiian spade, the _o-ó_; and with this he made motions, thrusting to right and to left; whether in imitation of the motions of a soldier or of a farmer could not be learned. The gestures of these actors were in perfect time with the rhythm of the mele. The dance-movements performed by the olapa, as the author has heard them described, were peculiar, not an actual rotation, but a sort of half-turn to one side and then to the other, an advance followed by a retreat. While doing this the olapa, who were in two divisions, marked the time of the movement by clinking together two pebbles which they held in each hand. The use of the pebbles after the manner of castanets, the division of the dancers into two sets, their advance and retreat toward and away from each other are all suggestive of the Spanish bolero or fandango. The resemblance went deeper than the surface. The prime motive of the song, the mele, also is the same, love in its different phases even to its most frenzied manifestations. _Mele_ Pa au i ka ihee a Kane;[326] Nana ka maka ia Koolau;[327] Kau ka opua[327] ma ka moana. Lu'u a e-a, lu'u a e-a,[329] 5 Hiki i Wai-ko-loa. Aole loa ke kula I ka pai-lani a Kane.[330] Ke kane[331] ia no hoi ia Ka tula pe-pe'e 10 A ka hale ku'i. Ku'i oe a lono Kahiki-nui; Hoolei ia iluna o Kaua-loa, Ka lihilihi pua o ka makemake. Mao ole ke Koolau i ka lihilihi. 13 He lihi kuleana ia no Puna. O ko'u puni no ia o ka ike maka. Aohe makamaka o ka hale, ua hele oe; Nawai la au e hookipa I keia mahaoi ana mai nei o ka loa? 20 He makemake no au e ike maka; I hookahi no po, le'a ke kaunu, Ka hana mao ole a ke anu. He anu mawaho, a he hu'i ma-loko. A ilaila laua la, la'i pono iho. 25 Ua pono oe o kaua, ua alu ka moena; Ka hana mau a ka Inu-wai; Mao ole i ka nui kino. Ku'u kino keia mauna ia ha'i. E Ku, e hoolei la! 30 A ua noa! [Footnote 327: _The a Kane_. The spear of Kane. What else can this he than that old enemy to man's peace and comfort, love, passion?] [Footnote 328: _Koolau_. The name applied to the weather side of an island; the direction in which one would naturally turn first to judge of the weather.] [Footnote 329: _Opua_. A bunch of clouds; a cloud-omen; a heavenly phenomenon; a portent. In this case it probably means a lover. The present translation, is founded on this view.] [Footnote 330: _Lu'u a e-a_. To dive and then come up to take breath, as one does in swimming out to sea against the incoming breakers, or as one might do in escaping from a pursuer, or in avoiding detection, after the manner of a loon.] [Footnote 331: _A Kane_ and _Ke kane_. Instances of word-repetition, previously mentioned as a fashion much used in Hawaiian poetry. See instances also of the same figure in lines 13 and 14 and in lines 16 and 17.] [Page 184] [Translation] _Song_ I am smitten with spear of Kane; Mine eyes with longing scan Koolau; Behold the love-omen hang o'er the sea. I dive and come up, dive and come up; 5 Thus I reach my goal Wai-ko-loa. The width of plain is a trifle To the joyful spirit of Kane. Aye, a husband, and patron is he To the dance of the bended knee, 10 In the hall of the stamping feet. Stamp, till the echo reaches Kahiki; Still pluck you a wreath by the way To crown your fondest ambition; A wreath not marred by the salt wind 15 That plays with the skirts of Puna. I long to look eye into eye. Friendless the house, you away; Pray who will receive, who welcome, This guest uninvited from far? 20 I long for one (soul-deep) gaze, One night of precious communion; Such a flower wilts not in the cold-- Cold without, a tumult within. What bliss, if we two were together! 25 You are the blest of us twain; The mat bends under your form. The thirsty wind, it still rages, [Page 185] Appeased not with her whole body. My body is pledged to another. 30 Crown it, Ku, crown it. Now the service is free! Some parts of this mele, which is a love-song, have defied the author's most strenuous efforts to penetrate their deeper meaning. No Hawaiian consulted has made a pretense of understanding it wholly. The Philistines of the middle of the nineteenth century, into whose hands it fell, have not helped matters by the emendations and interpolations with which they slyly interlarded the text, as if to set before us in a strong light the stigmata of degeneracy from which they were suffering. The author has discarded from the text two verses which followed verse 28: Hai'na ia mai ka puana: Ka wai anapa i ke kala. [Translation] Declare to me now the riddle: The waters that flash on the plain. The author has refrained from casting out the last two verses, though in his judgment they are entirely out of place and were not in the mele originally. [Page 186] XXIV--THE HULA PELE The Hawaiian drama could lay hold of no worthier theme than that offered by the story of Pele. In this epic we find the natural and the supernatural, the everyday events of nature and the sublime phenomena of nature's wonderland, so interwoven as to make a story rich in strong human and deific coloring. It is true that the genius of the Hawaiian was not equal to the task of assembling the dissevered parts and of combining into artistic unity the materials his own imagination had spun. This very fact, however, brings us so much nearer to the inner workshop of the Hawaiian mind. The story of Pele is so long and complicated that only a brief abstract of it can be offered now: Pele, the goddess of the volcano, in her dreams and wanderings in spirit-form, met and loved the handsome Prince Lohiau. She would not be satisfied with mere spiritual intercourse; she demanded the sacrament of bodily presence. Who should be the ambassador to bring the youth from his distant home on Kauai? She begged her grown-up sisters to attempt the task. They foresaw the peril and declined the thankless undertaking. Hiiaka, the youngest and most affectionate, accepted the mission; but, knowing her sister's evil temper, strove to obtain from Pele a guaranty that her own forests and the life of her bosom friend Hopoe should be safeguarded during her absence. Hiiaka was accompanied by Wahine-oma'o--the woman in green--a woman as beautiful as herself. After many adventures they arrived at Haena and found Lohiau dead and in his sepulchre, a sacrifice to the jealousy of Pele. They entered the cave, and after ten days of prayer and incantation Hiiaka had the satisfaction of seeing the body of Lohiau warmed and animated by the reentrance of the spirit; and the company, now of three, soon started on the return to Kilauea. The time consumed by Hiiaka in her going and doing and returning had been so long that Pele was moved to unreasonable jealousy and, regardless of her promise to her faithful sister, she devastated with fire the forest parks of Hiiaka and sacrificed the life of Hiiaka's bosom friend, the innocent and beautiful Hopoe. Hiiaka and Lohiau, on their arrival at Kilauea, seated themselves on its ferny brink, and there, in the open view of Pele's court, Hiiaka, in resentment at the broken faith of her sister and in defiance of her power, invited and received [Page 187] from Lohiau the kisses and dalliance which up to that time she had repelled. Pele, in a frenzy of passion, overwhelmed her errant lover, Lohiau, with fire, turned his body into a pillar of rock, and convulsed earth and sea. Only through the intervention of the benevolent peacemaking god Kane was the order of the world saved from utter ruin. The ancient Hawaiians naturally regarded the Pele hula with special reverence by reason of its mythological importance, and they selected it for performance on occasions of gravity as a means of honoring the kings and alii of the land. They would have considered its presentation on common occasions, or in a spirit of levity, as a great impropriety. In ancient times the performance of the hula Pele, like that of all other plays, was prefaced with prayer and sacrifice. The offering customarily used in the service of this hula consisted of salt crystals and of luau made from the delicate unrolled taro leaf. This was the gift demanded of every pupil seeking admission to the school of the hula, being looked upon as an offering specially acceptable to Pele, the patron of this hula. In the performance of the sacrifice teacher and pupil approached and stood reverently before the kuahu while the former recited a mele, which was a prayer to the goddess. The pupil ate the luau, the teacher placed the package of salt on the altar, and the service was complete. Both olapa and hoopaa took part in the performance of this hula. There was little or no moving about, but the olapa did at times sink down to a kneeling position. The performance was without instrumental accompaniment, but with abundant appropriate gestures. The subjects treated of were of such dignity and interest as to require no extraneous embellishment. Perusal of the mele which follows will show that the story of Pele dated back of her arrival in this group: _He Oli-O ka mele mua keia o ka, hula Pele_ Mai Kahiki ka wahine, o Pele, Mai ka aina i Pola-pola, Mai ka punohu ula a Kane, Mai ke ao lalapa i ka lani, 5 Mai ka opua lapa i Kahiki. Lapa-ku i Hawaii ka wahine, o Pele; Kalai i ka wa'a Houna-i-a-kea, Kou wa'a, e Ka-moho-alii. I apo'a ka moku i pa'a; 10 Ua hoa ka wa'a o ke Akua, Ka wa'a o Kane-kalai-honua. Holo mai ke au, a'ea'e Pele-honua-mea; A'ea'e ka Lani, ai-puni'a i ka moku; A'ea'e Kini o ke Akua, [Page 188] 15 Noho a'e o Malau. Ua ka ia ka liu o ka wa'a. Ia wai ka hope, ka uli o ka wa'a, e ne hoa 'lii? Ia Pele-honua-mea. A'ea'e kai hoe oluna o ka wa'a. 20 O Ku ma, laua o Lono, Noho i ka honua aina, Kau aku i hoolewa moku. Hiiaka, noiau, he akua, Ku ae, hele a noho i ka hale o Pele. 25 Huahua'i Kahiki, lapa uila, e Pele. E hua'i, e! [Translation] _A Song--The first song of the hula Pele_ From Kahiki came the woman, Pele, From the land of Pola-pola, From the red cloud of Kane, Cloud blazing in the heavens, 5 Fiery cloud-pile in Kahiki. Eager desire for Hawaii seized the woman, Pele; She carved the canoe, Honna-i-a-kea, Your canoe, O Ka-moho-alii. They push the work on the craft to completion. 10 The lashings of the god's canoe are done, The canoe of Kane, the world-maker. The tides swirl, Pele-honua-mea o'ermounts them; The god rides the waves, sails about the island; The host of little gods ride the billows; 15 Malau takes his seat; One bales out the bilge of the craft. Who shall sit astern, be steersman, O, princes? Pele of the yellow earth. The splash of the paddles dashes o'er the canoe. 20 Ku and his fellow, Lono, Disembark on solid land; They alight on a shoal. Hiiaka, the wise one, a god, Stands up, goes to stay at the house of Pele. 25 Lo, an eruption in Kahiki! A flashing of lightning, O Pele! Belch forth, O Pele! Tradition has it that Pele was expelled from Kahiki by her brothers because of insubordination, disobedience, and disrespect to their mother, _Honua-mea_, sacred land. (If Pele in Kahiki conducted herself as she has done in Hawaii, rending and scorching the bosom of mother earth--Honua-Mea--it is not to be wondered that her brothers were anxious to get rid of her.) She voyaged north. Her [Page 189] first stop was at the little island of Ka-ula, belonging to the Hawaiian group. She tunneled into the earth, but the ocean poured in and put a stop to her work. She had the same experience on Lehua, on Kiihau, and on the large island of Kauai. She then moved on to Oahu, hoping for better results; but though she tried both sides of the island, first mount Ka-ala--the fragrant--and then Konahuanui, she still found the conditions unsatisfactory. She passed on to Molokai, thence to Lanai, and to West Maui, and East Maui, at which last place she dug the immense pit of Hale-a-ka-la; but everywhere she was unsuccessful. Still journeying east and south, she crossed the wide Ale-nui-haha channel and came to Hawaii, and, after exploring in all directions, she was satisfied to make her home at Kilauea. Here is (_ka piko o ka honua_) the navel of the earth. Apropos of this effort of Pele to make a fire-pit for herself, see the song for the hula kuolo (p. 86), "A pit lies (far) to the east." _Mele_ A Kauai, a ke olewa [332] iluna, Ka pua lana i kai o Wailua; Nana mai Pele ilaila; E waiho aku ana o Aim.[333] 5 Aloha i ka wai niu o ka aina; E ala mai ana mokihana, Wai auau o Hiiaka. Hoo-paapaa Pele ilaila; Aohe Kau [334] e ulu ai. 10 Keehi aku Pele i ka ale kua-loloa, He onohi no Pele, ka oaka o ka lani, la. Eli-eli, kau mai! [Translation] _Song_ To Kauai, lifted in ether, A floating flower at sea off Wailua-- That way Pele turns her gaze, She's bidding adieu to Oahu, 5 Loved land of new wine of the palm. 5 There comes a perfumed waft--mokihana-- The bath of the maid Hiiaka. Scene it was once of Pele's contention, Put by for future attention. 10 Her foot now spurns the long-backed wave; 10 The phosphor burns like Pele's eye, Or a meteor-flash in the sky. Finished the prayer, enter, possess! [Footnote 332: _Olewa_. Said to be the name of a wooded region high up on the mountain of Kauai. It is here treated as if it meant the heavens or the blue ether. Its origin is the same with the word _lewa_, the upper regions of the air.] [Footnote 333: _O Ahu_. In this instance the article still finds itself disunited from its substantive. To-day we have _Oahu_ and _Ola'a_.] [Footnote 334: _Kau_, The summer; time of warm weather; the growing season.] [Page 190] The incidents and allusions in this mele belong to the story of Pele's journey in search of Lohiau, the lover she met in her dreams, and describe her as about to take flight from Oahu to Kauai (verse 4). Hiiaka's bath, _Wai auau o Hiiaka_ (verse 7), which was the subject of Pele's contention (verse 8), was a spring of water which Pele had planted at Huleia on her arrival from Kahiki. The ones with whom Pele had the contention were Kukui-lau-manienie and Kukui-lauhanahana, the daughters of Lima-loa, the god of the mirage. These two women lived at Huleia near the spring. Kamapua'a, the swinegod, their accepted lover, had taken the liberty to remove the spring from the rocky bed where Pele had planted it to a neighboring hill. Pele was offended and demanded of the two women: "Where is my spring of water?" "Where, indeed, is your spring? You belong to Hawaii. What have you to do with any spring on Kauai?" was their answer. "I planted a clean spring here on this rock," said Pele. "You have no water here," they insisted; "your springs are on Hawaii." "If I were not going in search of my husband Lohiau," said Pele, "I would set that spring back again in its old place." "You haven't the power to do that," said they. "The son of Kahiki-ula (Kama-puaa) moved it over there, and you can't undo his action." The eye of Pele, _He onohi no Pele_ (verse 11), is the phosphorescence which Pele's footfall stirs to activity in the ocean. The formal ending of this mele, _Elieli, kau mai_, is often found at the close of a mele in the hula Pele, and marks it as to all intents and purposes a prayer. _E waiho aku ana, o Ahu_ (verse 4). This is an instance of the separation of the article _o_ from the substantive _Ahu_, to which it becomes joined to form the proper name of the island now called Oahu. _Mele_ Ke amo la ke ko'i ke akua la i-uka; Haki nu'a-nu'a mai ka nalu mai Kahiki, Po-po'i aku la i ke alo o Kilauea.[335] Kanaka hea i ka lakou puaa kanu; 5 He wahine kui lei lehua i uka o Olaa, Ku'u moku lehua i ke alo o He-eia. O Kuku-ena[336] wahine, Komo i ka lau-ki, [Page 191] A'e-a'e a noho. 10 Eia makou, kou lau kaula la. Eli-eli, kau mai! [Footnote 335: The figure in the second and third verses, of waves from Kahiki (_nalu mai Kahiki_) beating against the front of Kilauea (_Po-po'i aku la i ke alo o Kilauea_), seems to picture the trampling of the multitude splashing the mire as if it were, waves of ocean.] [Footnote 336: _Kukuena_. There is some uncertainty as to who this character was; probably the same as Haumea, the mother of Pele.] [Translation] _Song_ They bear the god's ax up the mountain; Trampling the mire, like waves from Kahiki That beat on the front of Kilauea. The people with offerings lift up a prayer; 5 A woman strings wreaths in Olaa-- Lehua grove mine bord'ring He-eia. And now Kukuena, mother god, Covers her loins with a pa-ú of ti leaf; She mounts the altar; she sits. 10 Behold us, your conclave of priests. Enter in, possess us! This has the marks of a Hawaiian prayer, and as such it is said to have been used in old times by canoe-builders when going up into the mountains in search of timber. Or it may have been recited by the priests and people who went up to fell the lehua tree from which to carve the Makahiki[337] idol; or, again, may it possibly have been recited by the company of hula folk who climbed the mountain in search of a tree to be set up in the halau as a representation of the god whom they wished to honor? This is a question the author can not settle. That it was used by hula folk is indisputable, but that would not preclude its use for other purposes. _Mele_ Ku i Wailua ka pou hale[338] Ka ipu hoolono i ka uwalo, Ka wawa nui, e Ulupo. Aole uwalo mai, e. 5 Aloha nui o Ikuwa, Mahoena. Ke lele la ka makawao o ka hinalo. Aia i Maná ka oka'i o ka ua o Eleao; Ke holu la ka a'ahu o Ka-ú [339] i ka makani; Ke puhi a'e la ka ale kumupali o Ka-ú, Honuapo; 10 Ke hakoko ka niu o Paiaha'a i ka makani. Uki-uki oukou: Ke lele la ke kai; Lele iao,[340] lele! O ka makani Koolau-wahine, [Page 192] 15 O ka Moa'e-ku. Lele ua, lele kawa! [341] Lele aku, lele mai! Lele o-ó,[342] o-ó lele; [343] Lele opuhi,[344] lele; 20 Lele o Kauná,[345] kaha oe. E Hiiaka e, ku! [Footnote 337: For an account of the Makahiki idol see Hawaiian Antiquities, p. 189, by David Malo; translated by N.B. Emerson, A.M., M.D., Honolulu, Hawaiian Gazette Company (Limited), 1903.] [Footnote 338: _Pou hele_. The main post of a house, which is here intended, was the _pou-haná_; it was regarded with a superstitious reverence.] [Footnote 339: _A'hu o Ka-u_. A reference, doubtless, to the long grass that once covered Ka-ú.] [Footnote 340: _I-áo_. A small fish that took short flights in the air.] [Footnote 341: _Lele kawa_. To jump in sport from a height into the water.] [Footnote 342: _Lele o-ó_. To leap feet first into the water.] [Footnote 343: _O-ó lele_. To dive head first into the water.] [Footnote 344: _Lele opuhi_. The same as _pahi'a_, to leap obliquely into the water from a height, bending oneself so that the feet come first to the surface.] [Footnote 345: _Kauná_. A woman of Ka-ú celebrated for her skill in the hula, also the name of a cape that reaches out into the stormy ocean.] [Translation] _Song_ At Wailua stands the main house-post; This oracle harks to wild voices, Tumult and clamor, O Ulu-po; It utters no voice to entreaty. 5 Alas for the prophet that's dumb! But there drifts the incense of hala. Maná sees the rain-whirl of Eleao. The robe of Ka-ú sways in the wind, That dashes the waves 'gainst the sea-wall, 10 At Honu-apo, windy Ka-ú; The Pai-ha'a palms strive with the gale. Such weather is grievous to you: The sea-scud is flying. My little i-ao, O fly 15 With the breeze Koolau! Fly with the Moa'e-ku! Look at the rain-mist fly! Leap with the cataract, leap! Plunge, now here, now there! 20 Feet foremost, head foremost; Leap with a glance and a glide! Kauná, opens the dance; you win. Rise, Hiiaka, arise! The meaning of this mele centers about a phenomenon that is said to have been observed at Ka-ipu-ha'a, near Wailua, on Kauai. To one standing on a knoll near the two cliffs Ikuwa and Mahoena (verse 5) there came, it is said, an echo from the murmur and clamor of the ocean and the moan of the wind, a confused mingling of nature's voices. The listener, however, got no echoing answer to his own call. The mele does not stick to the unities as we understand them. The poets of old Hawaii felt at liberty to run to the ends of their earth; and the auditor must allow his imagination to be transported suddenly from one island to another; in this [Page 193] case, first from Wailua to Maná on the same island, where he is shown the procession of whirling rain clouds of Eleao (verse 7). Thence the poet carries him to Honuapo, Hawaii, and shows him the waves dashing against the ocean-walls and the clashing of the palm-fronds of Paiaha'a in the wind. The scene shifts back to Kauai, and one stands with the poet looking down on a piece of ocean where the people are wont to disport themselves. (Maka-iwa, not far from Ka-ipu-ha'a, is said to be such a place.) Verses 12 to 19 in the Hawaiian (13 to 21 in the translation) describe the spirited scene. It is somewhat difficult to determine whether the Kauná mentioned in the next poem is the name of the woman or of the stormy cape. In the mind of a Hawaiian poet the inanimate and the animate are often tied so closely together in thought and in speech as to make it hard to decide which is intended. _Mele_ Ike ia Kauná-wahine, Makani Ka-ú, He umauma i pa ia e ka Moa'e, E ka makani o-maka o Unulau. Lau ka wahine kaili-pua o Paía, 5 Alualu puhala o ka Milo-pae-kanáka, e-e-e-e! He kanáka ke koa no ka ehu ahiahi, O ia nei ko ka ehu kakahiaka-- O maua no, me ka makua o makou. Ua ike 'a! [Translation] _Song_ Behold Kauná, that sprite of windy Ka-ú, Whose bosom is slapped by the Moa'e-kú, And that eye-smiting wind Unulaú-- Women by hundreds filch the bloom 5 Of Paía, hunt fruit of the hala, a-ha! That one was the gallant, at evening, This one the hero of love, in the morning-- 'Twas our guardian I had for companion. Now you see it, a-ha! This mele, based on a story of amorous rivalry, relates to a contest which arose between two young women of rank regarding the favors of that famous warrior and general of Kamehameha, Kalaimoku, whom the successful intrigante described as _ka makua o makou_ (verse 8), our father, i.e., our guardian. The point of view is that of the victorious intrigante, and in speaking of her defeated rival she uses the ironical language of the sixth verse, _He kanáka ke koa no ka ehu ahiahi_ meaning that her opponent's chance of success faded with the evening twilight, whereas her own success was crowned with [Page 194] the glow of morning, _O ia neí ko ka ehu kakahiaka_ (verse 7). The epithet _kanáka_ hints ironically that her rival is of lower rank than herself, though in reality the rank of her rival may have been superior to her own. The language, as pointed out by the author's informant, is marked with an elegance that stamps it as the product of a courtly circle. _Mele_ E oe mauna i ka ohu, Kahá, ka leo o ka ohi'a; Auwe! make au i ke ahi a mau A ka luahine[346] moe naná, 5 A papa enaena, wai hau, A wa'a kau-hí.[347] Haila pepe[348] mua me pepe waena, O pepe ka muimui: O kiele[348] i na ulu[348] 10 Ka makahá kai kea O Niheu[349] kolohe; Ka makaha kai kea! Eli-eli, kau mai. [Translation] _Song_ Ho! mountain of vapor-puffs, Now groans the mountain-apple tree. Alas! I burn in this deathless flame, That is fed by the woman who snores 5 On a lava plate, now hot, now cold; Now 'tis a canoe full-rigged for sea; There are seats at the bow, amidships, abaft; Baggage and men--all is aboard. And now the powerful thrust of the paddle, [Page 195] 10 Making mighty swirl of wat'ry yeast, As of Nihéu, the mischief-maker-- A mighty swirl of the yeasty wave. In heavea's name, come aboard! [Footnote 346: Pele is often spoken of as _ka luahine_, the old woman; but she frequently used her power of transformation to appear as a young woman of alluring beauty.] [Footnote 347: Lava poured out in plates and folds and coils resembles many diverse things, among others the canoe, _wa'a_ here characterized as complete in its appointments and ready for launching, _kauhí_. The words are subtly intended, no doubt, to convey the thought of Pele's readiness to launch on the voyage of matrimony.] [Footnote 348: _Pepe_, a seat; _kiele_, to paddle; and _ulu_, a shortened form of the old word _oulu_, meaning a paddle, are archaisms now obsolete.] [Footnote 349: Nihéu. One of the mythological heroes of an old-time adventure, in which his elder brother Kana, who had the form of a long rope, played the principal part. This one enterprise of their life in which they joined forces was for the rescue of their mother, Hina, who had been kidnaped by a marauding chief and carried from her home in Hilo to the bold headland of Haupu, Molokai. Nihéu is generally stigmatized as _kolohe_ (verse 11), mischievous, for no other reason apparently than that he was an active spirit, full of courage, given to adventure and heaven-defying audacities, such as put the Polynesian Mawi and the Greek Prometheus in bad odor with the gods of their times. One of these offensive actions was Nihéu's theft of a certain _ulu_, breadfruit, which one of the gods rolled with a noise like that of thunder in the underground caverns of the southern regions of the world. Nihéu is represented as a great sport, an athlete, skilled in all the games of his people. The worst that could be said of him was that he had small regard for other people's rights and that he was slow to pay his debts of honor.] [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XXI PALA-PALAI FERNS] After the death of Lohiau, his best friend, Paoa, came before Pele determined to invite death by pouring out the vials of his wrath on the head of the goddess. The sisters of Pele sought to avert the impending tragedy and persuaded him to soften his language and to forego mere abuse. Paoa, a consummate actor, by his dancing, which has been perpetuated in the hula Pele, and by his skillfully-worded prayer-songs, one of which is given above, not only appeased Pele, but won her. The piece next appearing is also a song that was a prayer, and seems to have been uttered by the same mouth that, groaned forth the one given above. It does not seem necessary to take the language of the mele literally. The sufferings that the person in the mele describes in the first person, it seems to the author, may be those of his friend Lohiau; and the first person is used for literary effect. _Mele[350]_ Aole e mao ka ohu: Auwe! make au i ke ahi a mau A ka wahine moe naná, A papa ena-ena, 5 A wa'a kau-hí. Ilaila pepe mua me pepe waena, O pepe ka mu'imu'i, O lei'na kiele, Kau-meli-eli: [351] 10 Ka maka kakahi kea O Niheu kolohe-- Ka maka kaha-kai kea. Eli-eli, kau mai! [Translation] _Song_ Alas, there's no stay to the smoke; I must die mid the quenchless flame-- Deed of the hag who snores in her sleep, Bedded on lava plate oven-hot. 5 Now it takes the shape of canoe; [Page 196] Seats at the bow and amidships, And the steersman sitting astern; Their stroke stirs the ocean to foam-- The myth-craft, Kau-meli-eli! 10 Now look, the white gleam of an eye-- It is Nihéu, the turbulent one-- An eye like the white sandy shore. Amen, possess me! [Footnote 350: The remarks on pp. 194 and 195 regarding the mele on p. 194 are mostly applicable to this mele.] [Footnote 351: _Kau-meli-eli_. The name of the double canoe which brought a company of the gods from the lands of the South--Kukulu o Kahiki--to Hawaii. Hawaiian myths refer to several migrations of the gods to Hawaii; one of them is that described in the mele given on p. 187, the first mele in this chapter.] The mele now to be given has the form of a serenade. Etiquette forbade anyone to wake the king by rude touch, but it was permissible for a near relative to touch his feet. When the exigencies of business made it necessary for a messenger, a herald, or a courtier to disturb the sleeping monarch, he took his station at the king's feet and recited a serenade such as this: _Mele Hoala _(no ka Hula Pele) E ala, e Kahiki-ku;[352] E ala, e Kahiki-moe; [352] E ala, e ke apapa nu'u;[353] E ala, e ke apapa lani.[353] 5 Eia ka hoala nou, e ka lani[354] la, e-e! E ala oe! E ala, ua ao, ua malamalama. Aia o Kape'a ma,[355] la, i-luna; Ua hiki mai ka maka o Unulau; [356] [Page 197] 10 Ke hóolalé mai la ke kupa holowa'a o Ukumehame,[357] Ka lae makaui kaohi-wa'a o Papawai,[358] Ka lae makani o'Anahenahe la, e-e! E ala oe! E ala, ua ao, ua malamalama; 15 Ke o a'e la ke kukuna o ka La i lea ili o ke kai; Ke hahai a'e la, e like me Kumukahi [359] E hoaikane ana me Makanoni; Ka papa o Apua, ua lohi i ka La. E ala oe! 20 E ala, ua ao, ua malamalama; Ke kau aku la ka La i Kawaihoa: Ke kolii aku la ka La i ka ili o ke kai; Ke anai mai la ka iwa auai-maka o Lei-no-ai, I ka lima o Maka-iki-olea, 25 I ka poll wale o Leliua la. E ala oe! [Footnote 352: Hawaiians conceived of the dome of heaven as a solid structure supported by walls that rested on the earth's plain. Different names were given to different sections of the wall. _Kahiki-ku_ and _Kahiki-moe_ were names applied to certain of these sections. It would, however, be too much, to expect any Hawaiian, however intelligent and well versed in old lore, to indicate the location of these regions.] [Footnote 353: The words _apapa nu'u_ and _apapa lani_, which convey to the mind of the author the picture of a series of terraced plains or steppes--no doubt the original meaning--here mean a family or order of gods, not of the highest rank, at or near the head of which stood Pele. Apropos of this subject the following lines have been quoted: Hanau ke apapa nu'u: Hanau ke apapa lani; Hanau Pele, ka hihi'o na lani. [Translation] Begotten were the gods of graded rank; Begotten were the gods of heavenly rank; Begotten was Pele, quintessence of heaven. This same expression was sometimes used to mean an order of chiefs, _alii. Apapa lani_ was also used to mean the highest order of gods, _Ku, Kane, Kanaloa, Lono_. The kings also were gods, for which reason this expression at times applied to the alii of highest rank, those, for instance, who inherited the rank of _niau-pi'o_ or of _wohi._] [Footnote 354: _Lani_. Originally the heavens, came to mean king, chief, _alii_.] [Footnote 355: There is a difference of opinion as to the meaning of _Kape'a ma_. After hearing diverse opinions the author concludes that it refers to the rays of the sun that precede its rising--a Greek idea.] [Footnote 356: _Unulau_. A name for the trade-wind which, owing to the conformation of the land, often sweeps down with great force through the deep valleys that seam the mountains of west Maui between Lahaina and Maalaea bay; such a wind squall was called a _mumuku_.] [Footnote 357: _Ukumehame_. The name of a deep valley on west Maui in the region above described.] [Footnote 358: _Papawai_. The principal cape on west Maui between Lahaina and Maalaea bay.] [Footnote 359: _Kumu-kahi_. A cape in Puna, the easternmost part of Hawaii; by some said to be the sun's wife, and the object of his eager pursuit after coming out of his eastern gate Ha'eha'e. The name was also applied to a pillar of stone that was planted on the northern border of this cape. Standing opposite to it, on the southern side, was the monolith Makanoni. In summer the sun in its northern excursion inclined, as the Hawaiians noted, to the side of Kumukahi, while in the season of cool weather, called Makalii, it swung in the opposite direction and passed over to Makanoni. The people of Puna accordingly said, "The sun has passed over to Makanoni," or "The sun has passed over to Kumukahi," as the case might be. These two pillars are said to be of such a form as to suggest the thought that they are phallic emblems, and this conjecture is strengthened by consideration of the tabus connected with them and of the religious ceremonies peformed before them. The Hawaiians speak of them as _pohaku eho_, which, the author believes, is the name given to a phallus, and describe them as plain uncarved pillars. These stones were set up in very ancient times and are said to have been tabu to women at the times of their infirmity. If a woman climbed upon them at such a period or even set foot upon the platform on which one of them stood she was put to death. Another stringent tabu forbade anyone to perform an office of nature while his face was turned toward one of these pillars. The language of the mele, _Ke hahai ae la e like me Kumukahi_ (verse 16), implies that the sun chased after Kumukahi. Apropos of this is the following quotation from an article on the phallus in Chambers's Encyclopedia: "The common myth concerning it [the phallus] was the story of some god deprived of his power of generation--an allusion to the sun, which in autumn loses its fructifying influence." In modern times there seems to have grown up a curious mixture of traditions about these two stones, in which the old have become overlaid with new superstitions; and these last in turn seem to be dying out. They are now vaguely remembered as relics of old demigods, petrified forms of ancient _kupua_.[360] Fishermen, it is said, not long ago offered sacrifices to them, hoping thus to purchase good luck. Any offense against them, such as that by women, above mentioned, or by men, was atoned for by offering before these ancient monuments the first fish that came to the fisherman's hook or net. Mention of the name Kumu-kahi to a Hawaiian versed in ancient lore called up to his memory the name of Pala-moa as his associate. The account this old man gave of them was that they were demigods much worshiped and feared for their power and malignity. They were reputed to be cannibals on the sly, and, though generally appearing in human form, were capable of various metamorphoses, thus eluding detection. They were believed to have the power of taking possession of men through spiritual obsession, as a result of which the obsessed ones were enabled to heal sickness as well as to cause it, to reveal secrets, and to Inflict death, thus terrifying people beyond measure. The names of these, two demigods, especially that of Palamoa, are to this day appealed to by practitioners of the black arts.] [Footnote 360: The Hawaiian alphabet had no letter _s_. The Hawaiians indicated the plural by prefixing the particle _na_.] [Page 198] [Translation] _Song_ Awake now, Kahiki-ku; Awake now, Kahiki-moe; Awake, ye gods of lower grade; Awake, ye gods of heavenly rank. 5 A serenade to thee, O king. Awake thee! Awake, it is day, it is light; The Day-god his arrows is shooting, Unulau his eye far-flashing, 10 Canoe-men from Uku-me-hame Are astir to weather the windy cape, The boat-baffling cape, Papa-wai, And the boisterous A-nahe-nahe. Awake thee! 15 Awake, day is come and the light; The sun-rays stab the skin of the deep; It pursues, as did god Kumu-kahi To companion with god Maka-noni; The plain of Apua quivers with heat. 20 Awake thee! Awake, 'tis day, 'tis light; The sun stands over Waihoa, Afloat on the breast of ocean; The iwa of Leinoai is preening 25 On the cliff Maka-iki-olea. On the breast of naked Lehua. Awake thee! awake! The following is a prayer said to have been used at the time of awa-drinking. When given in the hula, the author is informed, its recitation was accompanied by the sound of the drum. _He Pule no Pele_ PALE I O Pele la ko'u akua: Miha ka lani, miha ka honua. Awa iku, awa lani; Kai awaawa, ka awa nui a Hiiaka, 5 I kua i Mauli-ola;[361] He awa kapu no na wahine. E kapu! Ka'i kapu kou awa, e Pele a Honua-mea; E kala, e Haumea wahine, 10 O ka wahine i Kilauea, Nana i eli a hohonu ka lua O Mau-wahine, o Kupu-ena, O na wahine i ka inu-hana awa. E ola na 'kua malihini![362] PALE II 15 I kama'a-ma'a la i ka pua-lei; E loa ka wai apua, Ka pii'na i Ku-ka-la-ula;[363] Hoopuka aku i Puu-lena, Aina a ke Akua i noho ai. [Page 199] 20 Kanaenae a ke Akua malihini;[362] O ka'u wale iho la no ia, o ka leo, He leo wale no, e-e! E ho-i! Eia ka ai! [Footnote 361: _Maull-ola_. A god of health; perhaps also the name of a place. The same word also was applied to the breath of life, or to the physician's power of healing. In the Maori tongue the word _mauri_, corresponding to _mauli_, means life, the seat of life. In Samoan the word _mauli_ means heart. "Sneeze, living heart" (_Tihe mauri ora_), says the Maori mother to her infant when it sneezes. For this bit of Maori lore acknowledgment is due to Mr. S. Percy Smith, of New Zealand.] [Footnote 362: According to one authority, at the close of the first canto the stranger gods--_akua malihini_--who consisted of that multitude of godlings called the _Kini Akua_, took their departure from the ceremony, since they did not belong to the Pele family. Internal evidence, however, the study of the prayer itself in its two parts, leads the writer to disagree with this authority. Other Hawaiians of equally deliberate judgment support him in this opinion. The etiquette connected with ceremonious awa-drinking, which the Samoans of to-day still maintain in full form, long ago died out in Hawaii. This etiquette may never have been cultivated here to the same degree as in its home, Samoa; but this poem is evidence that the ancient Hawaiians paid greater attention to it than they of modern times. The reason for this decline of ceremony must be sought for in the mental and esthetic make-up of the Hawaiian people; it was not due to any lack of fondness in the Hawaiian for awa as a beverage or as an intoxicant. It is no help to beg the question by ascribing the decline of this etiquette to the influence of social custom. To do so would but add one more link to the chain that binds cause to effect. The Hawaiian mind was not favorable to the observance of this sort of etiquette; it did not afford a soil fitted to nourish such an artificial growth.] [Footnote 363: The meaning of the word _Ku-ka-la-ula_ presented great difficulty and defied all attempts at translation until the suggestion was made by a bright Hawaiian, which was adopted with satisfaction, that it probably referred to that state of dreamy mental exaltation which comes with awa-intoxication. This condition, like that of frenzy, of madness, and of idiocy, the Hawaiian regarded as a divine possession.] [Translation] _A Prayer to Pele_ CANTO I Lo, Pele's the god of my choice: Let heaven and earth in silence wait Here is awa, potent, sacred, Bitter sea, great Hiiaka's root; 5 'Twas cut at Mauli-ola-- Awa to the women forbidden, Let it tabu be! Exact be the rite of your awa, O Pele of the sacred land. [Page 200] 10 Proclaim it, mother. Haumea, Of the goddess of Kilauea; She who dug the pit world-deep, And Mau-wahine and Kupu-ena, Who prepare the awa for drink. 15 A health to the stranger gods! CANTO II Bedeck now the board for the feast; Fill up the last bowl to the brim; Then pour a draught in the sun-cave Shall flow to the mellow haze, 20 That tints the land of the gods. All hail to the stranger gods! This my offering, simply a voice, Only a welcoming voice. Turn in! 25 Lo, the feast! This prayer, though presented in two parts or cantos, is really one, its purpose being to offer a welcome, _kanaenae_, to the feast and ceremony to the gods who had a right to expect that courtesy. One more mele of the number specially used in the hula Pele: _Mele_ Nou paha e, ka inoa E ka'i-ka'i ku ana, A kau i ka nuku. E hapa-hapai a'e; 5 A pa i ke kihi O Ki-lau-é-a. Ilaila ku'u kama, O Ku-nui-akea.[364] Hookomo a'e iloko 10 A o Hale-ma'u-ma'u;[365] A ma-ú na pu'u E óla-olá, nei. E kulipe'e nui ai-ahua.[366] E Pele, e Pele! 15 E Pele, e Pele! Huai'na! huai'na! Ku ia ka lani, Pae a huila! [Footnote 364: Kalakaua, for whom all these fine words are intended, could no more claim kinship with Ku-nui-akea, the son of Kau-i-ke-aouli, than with Julius Cæsar.] [Footnote 365: _Hale-mau-mau_. Used figuratively of the mouth, whose hairy fringe--moustache and beard--gives it a fancied resemblance to the rough lava pit where Pele dwelt. The figure, to us no doubt obscure, conveyed to the Hawaiian the idea of trumpeting the name and making it famous.] [Footnote 366: _E kuli-pe'e nui ai-ahua_. Pele is here figured as an old, infirm woman, crouching and crawling along; a character and attitude ascribed to her, no doubt, from the fancied resemblance of a lava flow, which, when in the form of _a-á_, rolls and tumbles along over the surface of the ground in a manner suggestive of the motions and attitude of a palsied crone.] [Page 201] [Translation] _Song_ Yours, doubtless, this name. Which people are toasting With loudest acclaim. Now raise it, aye raise it, 5 Till it reaches the niches Of Kí-lau-é-a. Enshrined is there my kinsman, Kú-núi-akéa. Then give it a place 10 In the temple of Pele; And a bowl for the throats That are croaking with thirst. Knock-kneed eater of land, O Pele, god Pele! 15 O Pele, god Pele! Burst forth now! burst forth! Launch a bolt from the sky! Let thy lightnings fly: When this poem[367] first came into the author's hands, though attracted by its classic form and vigorous style, he could not avoid being repelled by an evident grossness. An old Hawaiian, to whom he stated his objections, assured him that the mele was innocent of all bad intent, and when the offensive word was pointed out he protested that it was an interloper. The substitution of the right word showed that the man was correct. The offense was at once removed. This set the whole poem in a new light and it is presented with satisfaction. The mele is properly a name-song, _mele-inoa_. The poet represents some one as lifting a name to his mouth for praise and adulation. He tells him to take it to Kilauea--that it may reecho, doubtless, from the walls of the crater. [Footnote 367: It is said to ue the work of a hula-master, now some years dead, by the name of Namakeelua.] [Page 202] XXV.--THE HULA PA'I-UMAUMA The hula _pa'i-umauma_--chest-beating hula--called also hula _Pa-láni_,[368] was an energetic dance, in which the actors, who were also the singers, maintained a kneeling position, with the buttocks at times resting on the heels. In spite of the restrictions imposed by this attitude, they managed to put a spirited action into the performance; there were vigorous gestures, a frequent smiting of the chest with the open hand, and a strenuous movement of the pelvis and lower part of the body called _ami_. This consisted of rhythmic motions, sidewise, backward, forward, and in a circular or elliptical orbit, all of which was done with the precision worthy of an acrobat, an accomplishment attained only after long practice. It was a hula of classic celebrity, and was performed without the accompaniment of instrumental music. [Footnote 368: _Paláni_, French, so called at Moanalua because a woman who was its chief exponent was a Catholic, one of the "poe Paláni." Much odium has been laid to the charge of the hula on account of the supposed indecency of the motion termed _ami_. There can be no doubt that the ami was at times used to represent actions unfit for public view, and so far the blame is just. But the ami did not necessarily nor always represent obscenity, and to this extent the hula has been unjustly maligned.] In the mele now to be given the poet calls up a succession of pictures by imagining himself in one scenic position after another, beginning at Hilo and passing in order from one island to another--omitting, however, Maui--until he finds himself at Kilauea, an historic and traditionally interesting place on the windward coast of the garden-island, Kauai. The order of travel followed by the poet forbids the supposition that the Kilauea mentioned is the great caldera of the volcano on Hawaii in which Pele had her seat. It is useless to regret that the poet did not permit his muse to tarry by the way long enough to give us something more than a single eyeshot at the quickly shifting scenes which unrolled themselves before him, that so he might have given us further reminiscence of the lands over which his Pegasus bore him. Such completeness of view, however, is alien to the poesy of Hawaii. [Page 203] _Mele_ A Hilo au e, hoolulu ka lehua[369]; A Wai-luku la, i ka Lua-kanáka[370]; A Lele-iwi[371] la, au i ke kai; A Pana-ewa[372], i ka ulu-lehna; 5 A Ha-ili[373], i ke kula-manu; A Mologai, i ke ala-kahi, Ke kula o Kala'e[374] wela i ka la; Mauna-loa[375] la, Ka-lua-ko'i[376], e; Na hala o Nihoa[377], he mapuna la; 10 A Ko'i-ahi[378] au, ka maile lau-lu la; A Makua[379] la, i ke one opio-pio[380], E holu ana ke kai o-lalo; He wahine a-po'i-po'i[381] e noho ana, A Kilauea[382], i ke awa ula. [Translation] _Song_ At Hilo I rendezvoused with, the lehua; By the Wailuku stream, near the robber-den; Off cape Lele-iwi I swam in the ocean; At Pana-ewa, mid groves of lehua; 5 At Ha-ili, a forest of flocking birds. On Molokai I travel its one highway; I saw the plain of Kala'e quiver with heat, And beheld the ax-quarries of Mauna-loa. Ah, the perfume Nihoa's pandanus exhales! 10 Ko'i-ahi, home of the small-leafed maile; And now at Makua, lo, its virgin sand, While ocean surges and scours on below. Lo, a woman crouched on the shore by the sea, In the brick-red bowl, Kilauea's bay. [Footnote 369: _Lehúa._ A tree that produces the tufted scarlet flower that is sacred to the goddess of the hula, Laka.] [Footnote 370: _Lua-kanáka._ A deep and dangerous crossing at the Wailuku river, which is said to have been the cause of death by drowning of very many. Another story is that it was once the hiding place of robbers.] [Footnote 371: _Lele-iwi._ The name of a cape at Hilo, near the mouth of the Wai-luku river;--water of destruction.] [Footnote 372: _Pana-ewa._ A forest region in Ola'a much mentioned in myth and poetry.] [Footnote 373: _Haili._ A region in Ola'a, a famous: resort for bird-catchers.] [Footnote 374: _Ka-la'e._ A beautiful place in the uplands back of Kaunakakai, on Molokai.] [Footnote 375: _Mauna-loa._ The mountain in the western part of Molokai.] [Footnote 376: _Ka-lua-ko'i._ A place on this same Mauna-loa where was quarried stone suitable for making the Hawaiian ax.] [Footnote 377: _Nihoa._ A small land near Kalaupapa, Molokai, where was a grove of fine pandanus trees.] [Footnote 378: _Ko'i-ahi._ A small valley in the district of Waianae, Oahu, where was the home of the small-leafed maile.] [Footnote 379: _Makua._ A valley in Waianae.] [Footnote 380: _One opio-pio._ Sand freshly smoothed by an ocean wave.] [Footnote 381: _Apo'i-po'i._ To crouch for the purpose, perhaps, of screening oneself from view, as one, for instance, who is naked and desires to escape observation.] [Footnote 382: _Kilauea._ There is some doubt whether this is the Kilauea on Kauai or a little place of the same name near cape Kaeua, the westernmost point of Oahu.] [Page 204] In the next mele to be given it is evident that, though the motive is clearly Hawaiian, it has lost something of the rugged simplicity and impersonality that belonged to the most archaic style, and that it has taken on the sentimentality of a later period. _Mele_ E Manono la, e-a, E Manono la, e-a, Kau ka ópe-ópe; Ka ulu hala la, e-a, 5 Ka uluhe la, e-a. Ka uluhe la, e-a, A hiki Pu'u-naná, Hali'i punána No huli mai. 10 Hull mai o-e la; Moe kaua; Hali'i punana No hull mai. Hull mai o-e la; 15 Moe kaua; Moe aku kaua; O ka wai welawela, O ka papa lohi O Mau-kele; 20 Moe aku kaua; O ka wai welawela, O ka papa lohi O Mau-kele. A kele, a kele 25 Kou manao la, e-a; A kele, a kele Kou manao la, e-a. [Translation] _Song_ Come now, Manono, Come, Manono, I say; Take up the burden; Through groves of pandanus 5 And wild stag-horn fern, Wearisome fern, lies our way. Arrived at the hill-top, We'll smooth out the nest, That we may snug close. 10 Turn now to me, dear, While we rest here. Make we a little nest, That we may draw near. This way your face, dear, [Page 205] 15 While, we rest here. Rest thou and I here, Near the warm, warm water And the smooth lava-plate Of Mau-kele. 20 Rest thou and I here. By the water so warm, And the lava-plate smooth Of Mau-kele. Little by little 25 Your thoughts will be mine. Little by little Your thoughts I'll divine. Manono was the name of the brave woman, wife of Ke-kua-o-kalani, who fell in the battle of Kuamo'o, in Kona, Hawaii, in 1819, fighting by the side of her husband. They died in support of the cause of law and order, of religion and tabu, the cause of the conservative party in Hawaii, as opposed to license and the abolition of all restraint. The _uluhe_ (verses 5, 6) is the stag-horn fern, which forms a matted growth most obstructive to woodland travel. The burden Manono is asked to bear, what else is it but the burden of life, in this case lightened by love? Whether there is any connection between the name of the hula--breast-beating--and the expression, in the first verse of the following mele is more than the author can say. _Mele_ Ka-hipa[383], na waiu olewa, Lele ana, ku ka mahiki akea; Keké ka niho o Laui-wahine[384]; Opi ke a lalo, ke a luna. 5 A hoi aku au i Lihue, Kana aku ia Ewa; E au ana o Miko-lo-lóu,[385] [Page 206] A pahú ka naau no Pa-pi'-o[386]. A pa'a ka mano. 10 Hopu i ka lima. Ai pakahi, e, i ka nahele,[387] Alawa a'e na ulu kani o Leiwalo. E noho ana Kolea-kani[388] Ka pii'na i ka Uwa-lua; 15 Oha-ohá, lei i ka makani. [Footnote 383: _Ka-hipa_. Said to be the name of a mythological character, now applied to a place in Kahuku where the mountains present the form of two female breasts.] [Footnote 384: _Lani-wahine_. A benignant _mo'o_, or water-nymph, sometimes taking the form of a woman, that is said to have haunted the lagoon of Uko'a, Waialua, Oahu. There is a long story about her.] [Footnote 385: _Miko-lo-lóu_. A famous man-eating shark-god whose home was in the waters of Hana, Maui. He visited Oahu and was hospitably received by Ka-ahu-pahau and Ka-hi'u-ká, sharks of the Ewa lagoons, who had a human ancestry and were on friendly terms with their kindred. Miko-lo-lóu, when his hosts denied him human flesh, helped himself. In the conflict that rose the Ewa sharks joined with their human relatives and friends on land to put an end to Miko-lo-lóu. After a fearful contest they took him and reduced his body to ashes. A dog, however, snatched and ate a portion--some say the tongue, some the tail--and another part fell into the water. This was reanimated by the spirit of the dead shark and grew to be a monster of the same size and power as the one deceased. Miko-lo-lóu now gathered his friends and allies from all the waters and made war against the Ewa sharks, but was routed.] [Footnote 386: _Pa-pi'-o_. A shark of moderate size, but of great activity, that fought against Mlko-lo-lóu. It entered his enormous mouth, passed down into his stomach, and there played havoc with the monster, eating its way out.] [Footnote 387: _Ai pakahi, e, i ka nahele_. The company represented by the poet to be journeying pass through an uninhabited region barren of food. The poet calls upon them to satisfy their Imnger by eating of the edible wild herbs--they abound everywhere in Hawaii--at the same time representing them as casting longing glances on the breadfruit trees of Leiwalo. This was a grove in the lower levels of Ewa that still survives.] [Footnote 388: _Kolea-kani_. A female _kupua_--witch she might be called now--that had the form of a plover. She looked after the thirsty ones who passed along the road, and benevolently showed them where to find water. By her example the people of the district are said to have been induced to give refreshment to travelers who went that way.] [Translation] _Song_ 'Tis Kahipa, with, pendulous breasts; How they swing to and fro, see-saw! The teeth of Lani-wahine gape-- A truce to upper and lower jaw! 5 From Lihue we look upon Ewa; There swam the monster, Miko-lo-lóu, His bowels torn out by Pa-pi'-o. The shark was caught in grip of the hand. Let each one stay himself with wild herbs, And for comfort turn his hungry eyes 10 To the rustling trees of Lei-walo. Hark! the whistling-plover--her old-time seat, As one climbs the hill from Echo-glen, And cools his brow in the breeze. The thread of interest that holds together the separate pictures composing this mele is slight. It will, perhaps, give to the whole a more definite meaning if we recognize that it is made up of snapshots at various objects and localities that presented themselves to one passing along the old road from Kahúku, on Oahu, to the high land which gave the tired traveler his first distant view of Honolulu before he entered the winding canyon of Moana-lua. [Page 207] XXVI.--THE HULA KU'I MOLOKAI The hula _ku'i Molokai_ was a variety of the Hawaiian dance that originated on the island of Molokai, probably at a later period than what one would call the classic times. Its performance extended to the other islands. The author has information of its exhibition on the island of its name as late as the last quarter of the nineteenth century. The actors, as they might be called, in this hula were arranged in pairs who faced each other and went through motions similar to those of boxing. This action, _ku'i_, to smite, gave the name to the performance. The limiting word Molokai was added to distinguish it from another still more modern form of dance called _ku'i_, which will be described later. While the performers stood and went through with their motions, marching and countermarching, as they are said to have done, they chanted or recited in recitative some song, of which the following is an example. This they did with no instrumental accompaniment: _Mele_ He ala kai olohia,[389] He hiwahiwa na ka la'i luahine, He me' aloha na'u ka makani hauai-loli,[390] E uwe ana I ke kai pale iliahi. 5 Kauwá ke aloha i na lehua o Kaana.[391] Pomaikai au i kou aloha e noho nei; Ka haluku wale no ia a ka waimaka, Me he makamaka puka a la Ke aloha i ke kanaka, 10 E ho-iloli nei i ku'u nui kino. Mahea hoi au, a? Ma ko oe alo no. [Footnote 389: _Kai olohia_. A calm and tranquil sea. This expression has gained a poetic vogue that almost makes it pass current as a single word, meaning tranquillity, calmness of mind. As thus explained, it is here translated by the expression "heart's-ease."] [Footnote 390: _Makani hanai-loli_. A wind so gentle as not to prevent the bêche de mer _loli_ sea-anemones, and other marine slugs from coming out of their holes to feed. A similar figure is used in the next line in the expression _kai pale iliahi_. The thought is that the calmness of the ocean invites one to strip and plunge in for a bath.] [Footnote 391: _Kauwá ke aloha i na lehua o Kaana_. Kaana is said to be a hill on the road from Keaau to Olaa, a spot where travelers were wont to rest and where they not infrequently made up wreaths of the scarlet lehua bloom which there abounded. It took a large number of lehua flowers to suffice for a wreath, and to bind them securely to the fillet that made them a garland was a work demanding not only artistic skill hut time and patience. If a weary traveler, halting at Kaana, employed his time of rest in plaiting flowers into a wreath for some loved one, there would be truth as well as poetry in the saying, "Love slaves for the lehuas of Kaana."] [Page 208] [Translation] _Song_ Precious the gift of heart's-ease, A wreath for the cheerful dame; So dear to my heart is the breeze That murmurs, strip for the ocean. 5 Love slaves for wreaths from Kaana. I'm blest in your love that reigns here; It speaks in the fall of a tear-- The choicest thing in one's life, This love for a man by his wife-- 10 It has power to shake the whole frame. Ah, where am I now? Here, face to your face. The platitudes of mere sentimentalism, when put into cold print, are not stimulating to the imagination; moods and states of feeling often approaching the morbid, their oral expression needs the reenforcement of voice, tone, countenance, the whole attitude. They are for this reason most difficult of translation and when rendered literally into a foreign speech often become meaningless. The figures employed also, like the watergourds and wine-skins of past generations and of other peoples, no longer appeal to us as familiar objects, but require an effort of the imagination to make them intelligible and vivid to our mental vision. If the translator carries these figures of speech over into his new rendering, they will often demand an explanation on their own account, and will thus fail of their original intent; while if he clothes the thought in some new figure he takes the risk of failing to do justice to the intimate meaning of the original. The force of these remarks will become apparent from an analysis of the prominent figures of speech that occur in the mele. _Mele_ He inoa no ka Lani, No Náhi-éna-éna; A ka luna o wahine. Ho'i ka ena a ka makani; 5 Noho ka la'i i ka malino-- Makani ua ha-aó; Ko ke au i hala, ea. Punawai o Maná,[392] Wai ola na ke kupa 10 A ka ilio naná, Hae, nanahu i ke kai; Ehu kai nána ka pua, Ka pua o ka iliau, [Page 209] Ka ohai o Mapépe,[393] 15 Ka moena we'u-we'u, I ulana ia e ke A'e, Ka naku loloa. Hea mai o Kawelo-hea,[394] Nawai la, e, ke kapu? 20 No Náhi-éna-éna. Ena na pua i ka wai, Wai au o Holei. [Footnote 392: _Punaurai o Maná_. A spring of water at Honuapo, Hawaii, which bubbled up at such a level that the ocean covered it at high tide.] [Footnote 393: _Ka ohai o Mapépe_. A beautiful flowering shrub, also spoken of as _ka ohai o Papi'o-huli_, said to have been brought from Kahiki by Namaka-o-kaha'i.] [Footnote 394: _Kawelo-hea_. A blowhole or spouting horn, also at Honuapo, through which the ocean at certain times sent up a column of spray or of water. After the volcanic disturbance of 1868 this spouting horn ceased action. The rending force of the earthquakes must have broken up and choked the subterranean channel through which the ocean had forced its way.] [Translation] _Song_ A eulogy for the princess, For Náhi-éna-éna a name! Chief among women! She soothes the cold wind with her flame-- 5 A peace that is mirrored in calm, A wind that sheddeth rain; A tide that flowed long ago; The water-spring of Maná, Life-spring for the people, 10 A fount where the lapping dog Barks at the incoming wave, Drifting spray on the bloom Of the sand-sprawling ili-au And the scarlet flower of ohai, 15 On the wind-woven mat of wild grass, Long naku, a springy mattress. The spout-horn, Kawelo-hea, Asks, Who of right has the tabu? The princess Náhi-éna-éna! 20 The flowers glow in the pool, The bathing pool of Holei! This mele inoa--name-song or eulogy--was composed in celebration of the lamented princess, Nahienaena, who, before she was misled by evil influences, was a most attractive and promising character. She was the daughter of Keopuolani and younger sister of Kamehameha III, and came to her untimely death in 1836. The name was compounded from the words _na_, the, _áhi_, fires, and _énaéna_, hot, a meaning which furnishes the motive to the mele. [Page 210] XXVII.--THE HULA KIELÉI The hula _kí-e-léi_, or _kí-le-léi_, was a performance of Hawaii's classic times, and finds mention as such in the professedly imperfect list of hulas given by the historian David Malo.[395] It was marked by strenuous bodily action, gestures with feet and hands, and that vigorous exercise of the pelvis and body termed _ami_, the chief feature of which was a rotation of the pelvis in circles and ellipses, which is not to be regarded as an effort to portray sexual attitudes. It was a performance in which the whole company stood and chanted the mele without instrumental accompaniment. [Footnote 395: Hawaiian Antiquities, by David Malo; translated by N.B. Emerson, A.M., M.D. Honolulu, the Hawaiian Gazette Company (Limited), 1903.] The sacrifice offered at the kuahu in connection with the production of this hula consisted of a black pig, a cock of the color termed ula-hiwa--black pointed with red--a white hen, and awa. According to some authorities the offerings deemed appropriate for the sacrifice that accompanied each hula varied with the hula, but was definitely established for each variety of hula. The author's studies, however, lead him to conclude that, whatever may have been the original demands of the gods, in the long run they were not overparticular and were not only willing to put up with, but were well pleased so long as the offering contained, good pork or fish and strong awa. _Mele_ Ku piliki'i Hanalei-lehua,[396] la; Kao'o[397] 'luna o ka naéle,[398] la; Ka Pili-iki i ka Hua-moa, la; E ka mauna o ke a'a lewalewa[399] la. 5 A lewa ka hope o ko'u hoa, la, [Page 211] A ko-ú ka hope o ke koléa, la-- Na u'i elua.[400] Ki-ki'i ka ua i ka nana keia, la.[401] [Footnote 396: _Hanalei-lehua_. A wilderness back of Hanalei valley, Kauai, in which the lehua tree abounds. The features of this region are as above described.] [Footnote 397: _Kaó'o_. To bend down the shrubs and tussocks of grass to furnish solid footing in crossing swampy ground.] [Footnote 398: _Naé'le_. Boggy ground; a swamp, such as pitted the summit of Kauai's central mountain mass, Waiáleále.] [Footnote 399: _A'a lewalewa_. Aerial roots such as are put forth by the lehua trees in high altitudes and in a damp climate. They often aid the traveler by furnishing him with a sort of ladder.] [Footnote 400: _U'i elua_. Literally two beauties. One interpreter says the reference is to the arms, with which one pulls himself up; it is here rendered "flanks."] [Footnote 401: _Ki-ki'i ka na i ka nana keia, la_. The meaning of this passage is obscure. The most plausible view is that this is an exclamation made by one of the two travelers while crouching for shelter under an overhanging bank. This one, finding himself unprotected, exclaims to his companion on the excellence of the shelter he has found, whereupon the second man comes over to share his comfort only to find that he has been hoaxed and that the deceiver has stolen his former place. The language of the text seems a narrow foundation on which to base such an incident. A learned Hawaiian friend, however, finds it all implied in this passage.] [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XXII AWA-PUHI, A HAWAIIAN GINGER (ZINGIBER ZERUMBET)] [Translation] _Song_ Perilous, steep, is the climb to Hanalei woods; To walk canny footed over its bogs; To balance oneself on its ledges, And toil up ladder of hanging roots. 5 The bulk of my guide overhangs me, His loins are well-nigh exhausted; Two beautiful shapes! 'Neath this bank I crouch sheltered from rain. At first blush this mele seems to be the account of a perilous climb through that wild mountainous region that lies back of Hanalei, Kauai, a region of tangled woods, oozy steeps, fathomless bogs, narrow ridges, and overhanging cliffs that fall away into profound abysses, making such an excursion a most precarious adventure. This is what appears on the surface. Hawaiian poets, however, did not indulge in landscape-painting for its own sake; as a rule, they had some ulterior end in view, and that end was the portrayal of some primal human passion, ambition, hate, jealousy, love, especially love. Guided by this principle, one asks what uncouth or romantic love adventure this wild mountain climb symbolizes. All the Hawaiians whom the author has consulted on this question deny any hidden meaning to this mele. [Page 212] XXVIII.--THE HULA MÚ'U-MÚ'U The conception of this peculiar hula originated from a pathetic incident narrated in the story of Hiiaka's journey to bring Prince Lohiau to the court of Pele. Haiika, standing with her friend Wahine-oma'o on the heights that overlooked the beach at Kahakuloa, Maui, saw the figure of a woman, maimed as to hands and feet, dancing in fantastic glee on a plate of rock by the ocean. She sang as she danced, pouring out her soul in an ecstasy that ill became her pitiful condition; and as she danced her shadow-dance, for she was but a ghost, poor soul! these were the words she repeated: Auwé, auwé, mo' ku'u lima! Auwé, auwé, mo' ku'u lima! [Translation] Alas, alas, maimed are my hands! Alas, alas, maimed are my hands! Wahine-oma'o, lacking spiritual sight, saw nothing of this; but Hiiaka, in downright pity and goodness of impulse, plucked a hala fruit from the string about her neck and threw it so that it fell before the poor creature, who eagerly seized it and with the stumps of her hands held it up to enjoy its odor. At the sight of the woman's pleasure Hiiaka sang: Le'a wale hoi ka wahine lima-lima ole, wawae ole, E ha ana i kana i'a, ku'i-ku'i ana i kana opihi, Wa'u-wa'u ana i kana limu, Mana-mana-ia-kalu-é-a. [Translation] How pleased is the girl maimed of hand and foot, Groping for fish, pounding shells of opihi, Kneading her moss, Mana-mana-ia-kalu-éa! The answer of the desolate creature, grateful for Hiiaka's recognition and kind attention, was that pretty mele appropriated by hula folk as the wreath-song, already given (p. 56), which will bear repetition: Ke lei mai la o Ka-ula i ke kai, e-e! Ke malamalama o Niihau, ua malie. A malie, pa ka Inu-wai. Ke inu mai la na hala o Naue i ke kai. 5 No Naue ka hala, no Puna ka wahine, No ka lua no i Kilauea. [Page 213] [Translation] Kaula wreathes her brow with the ocean; Niihau shines forth in the calm. After the calm blows the Inu-wai, And the palms of Naue drink of the salt. 5 From Naue the palm, from Puna the maid, Aye, from the pit of Kilauea. The hula _mu'u-mu'u_, literally the dance of the maimed, has long been out of vogue, so that the author has met with but one person, and he not a practitioner of the hula, who has witnessed its performance. This was in Puna, Hawaii; the performance was by women only and was without instrumental accompaniment. The actors were seated in a half-reclining position, or kneeling. Their arms, as if in imitation of a maimed person, were bent at the elbows and doubled up, so that their gestures were made with the upper arms. The mele they cantillated went as follows: Pii ana a-áma,[402] A-áma kai nui; Kai pua-lena; A-áma, pai-é-a,[403] 5 Naholo i lea laupapa. Popo'i, popo'i, popo'i! Pii mai pipipi,[404] alea-lea; Noho i ka malua kai O-ú,[405] o-í kela. 10 Ai ka limu akaha-kaha;[406] Ku e, Kahiki, i ke kai nui! I ke kai pualena a Kane! A ke Akua o ka lua, Ua hiki i kai! 15 Ai humu-humu, E lau, e lau e, Ka opihi[407] koele! Pa i uka, pa i kai, Kahi a ke Akua i pe'e ai. 20 Pe'e oe a nalo loa; Ua nalo na Pele. E hua'i e, hua'i e, hua'i, O Ku ka mahu nui akea![408] Iho i kai o ka Milo-holu;[409] 25 Auau meliana i ka wai o ke Akua. Ke a e, ke a mai la Ke ahi a ka Wahine. E hula e, e hula e, e hula e! E hula mai oukou! 30 Ua noa no Manamana-ia-kalu-é-a, Puili kua, puili alo; Holo i kai, holo i uka, Holo i ka lua o Pele-- He Akua ai pohaku no Puna. 35 O Pi,[410] o Pa,[410] uhini mai ana, O Pele i ka lua. A noa! [Footnote 402: _A-áma_. An edible black crab. When the surf is high, it climbs up on the rocks.] [Footnote 403: _Pai-é-a_. An edible gray crab. The favorite time for taking these crabs is when the high tide or surf forces them to leave the water for protection.] [Footnote 404: _Pipípi_. A black seashell (Nerita). With it is often found the _alea-lea_, a gray shell. These shellfish, like the crabs above mentioned, crawl up the rocks and cliffs during stormy weather.] [Footnote 405: _O-ú_. A variety of eel that lurks in holes; it is wont to keep its head lifted. The _o-i'_ (same verse) is an eel that snakes about in the shallow water or on the sand at the edge of the water.] [Footnote 406: _Akahakaha_. A variety of moss. If one ate of this as he gathered it, the ocean at once became tempestuous.] [Footnote 407: _Opihi_. An edible bivalve found in the salt waters of Hawaii. Pele is said to have been very fond of it. There is an old saying, _He akua ai opihi o Pele_--"Pele is a goddess who eats the opihi." In proof of this statement they point to the huge piles of opihi shells that may be found along the coast of Puna, the middens, no doubt, of the old-time people. _Koéle_ was a term applied to the opihi that lives well under water, and therefore are delicate eating. Another meaning given to the word _koele--opihi koele_,--line 17--is "heaped up."] [Footnote 408: _O Ku ka mahu nui akea_. The Hawaiians have come to treat this phrase as one word, an epithet applied to the god Ku. In the author's translation it is treated as an ordinary phrase.] [Footnote 409: _Milo-hólu_. A grove of milo trees that stood, as some affirm, about that natural basin of warm water in Puna, which the Hawaiians called _Wai-wela-wela_.] [Footnote 410: _Pi, Pa_. These were two imaginary little beings who lived in the crater of Kilauea, and who declared their presence by a tiny shrill piping sound, such, perhaps, as a stick of green wood will make when burning. Pi was active at such times as the fires were retreating, Pa when the fires were rising to a full head.] [Page 214] [Translation] Black crabs are climbing, Crabs from the great sea, Sea that is darkling. Black crabs and gray crabs 5 Scuttle o'er the reef-plate. Billows are tumbling and lashing, Beating and surging nigh. Seashells are crawling up; And lurking in holes 10 Are the eels o-ú and o-í. But taste the moss akáhakáha, Kahiki! how the sea rages! The wild sea of Kane! The pit-god has come to the ocean, 15 All consuming, devouring By heaps the delicate shellfish! Lashing the mount, lashing the sea, Lurking place of the goddess. Pray hide yourself wholly; 20 The Pele women are hidden. Burst forth now! burst forth! Ku with spreading column of smoke! Now down to the grove Milo-holu; Bathe in waters warmed by the goddess. 25 Behold, they burn, behold, they burn! [Page 215] The fires of the goddess burn! Now for the dance, the dance! Bring out the dance made public By Mána-mána-ia-kálu-é-a. 30 Turn about back, turn about face; Advance toward the sea; Advance toward the land, Toward the pit that is Pele's, Portentous consumer of rocks in Puna. 35 Pi and Pa chirp the cricket notes Of Pele at home in her pit. Have done with restraint! The imagery and language of this mele mark the hula to which it belonged as a performance of strength. [Page 216] XXIX.--THE HULA KOLANI For the purpose of this book the rating of any variety of hula must depend not so much on the grace and rhythm of its action on the stage as on the imaginative power and dignity of its poetry. Judgedin this way, the _kolani_ is one of the most interesting and important of the hulas. Its performance seems to have made no attempt at sensationalism, yet it was marked by a peculiar elegance. This must have been due in a measure to the fact that only adepts--_olóhe_--those of the most finished skill in the art of hula, took part in its presentation. It was a hula of gentle, gracious action, acted and sung while the performers kept a sitting position, and was without instrumental accompaniment. The fact that this hula was among the number chosen for presentation before the king (Kamehameha III) while on a tour of Oahu in the year 1846 or 1847 is emphatic testimony as to the esteem in which it was held by the Hawaiians themselves. The mele that accompanied this hula when performed for the king's entertainment at Waimanalo was the following: He ua la, he ua, He ua pi'i mai; Noe-noe halau, Halau loa o Lono. 5 O lono oe; Pa-á-a na pali I ka hana a Ikuwá-- Pohá ko-ele-ele. A Welehu ka maláma, 10 Noho i Makali'i; Li'i-li'i ka hana. Aia a e'é-u, He eu ia no ka la hiki. Hiki mai ka Lani, 15 Nauweuwe ka honua, Ka hana a ke ola'i nui: Moe pono ole ko'u po-- Na niho ai kalakala, Ka hana a ka Niuhi 20 A mau i ke kai loa. He loa o ka hiki'na. A ua noa, a ua noa. [Page 217] [Translation] Lo, the rain, the rain! The rain is approaching; The dance-hall is murky, The great hall of Lono. 5 Listen! its mountain walls Are stunned with the clatter, As when in October, Heaven's thunderbolts shatter. Then follows Welehu, 10 The month of the Pleiads. Scanty the work then done, Save as one's driven. Spur comes with the sun, When day has arisen. 15 Now comes the Heaven-born; The whole land doth shake, As with an earthquake; Sleep quits then my bed: How shall this maw be fed! 20 Great maw of the shark-- Eyes that gleam in the dark Of the boundless sea! Rare the king's visits to me. All is free, all is free! If the author of this Hawaiian idyl sought to adapt its descriptive imagery to the features of any particular landscape, it would almost seem as if he had in view the very region in which Kauikeaouli found himself in the year 1847 as he listened to the mele of this unknown Hawaiian Theocritus. Under the spell of this poem, one is transported to the amphitheater of Mauna-wili, a valley separated from Waimanalo only by a rampart of hills. At one's back are the abrupt walls of Konahuanui; at the right, and encroaching so as almost to shut in the front, stands the knife-edge of Olomana; to the left range the furzy hills of Ulamawao; while directly to the front, looking north, winds the green valley, whose waters, before reaching the ocean, spread out into the fish-ponds and duck swamps of Kailua. It would seem as if this must have been the very picture the idyllic poet had in mind. This smiling, yet rock-walled, amphitheater was the vast dance-hall of Lono--_Halau loa o Lono_ (verse 4)--whose walls were deafened, stunned (_pa-á-a_, verse 6), by the tumult and uproar of the multitude that always followed in the wake of a king, a multitude whose night-long revels banished sleep: _Moe pono ole ko'u po_ (verse 17). The poet seems to be thinking of this same hungry multitude in verse 18, _Na niho ai kalakala_, literally the teeth that tear the food; also when he speaks of the Niuhi (verse 19), a mythical shark, the glow of whose eyes was said to be visible [Page 218 for a great distance in the ocean, _A mau i ke kai loa_ (verse 20). _Ikuwá, Welehu, Makali'i_ (verses 7, 9, and 10). These were months in the Hawaiian year corresponding to a part of September, October and November, and a part of December. The Hawaiian year began when the Pleiades (_Makali'i_) rose at sunset (about November 20), and was divided into twelve lunar months of twenty-nine or thirty days each. The names of the months differed somewhat in the different parts of the group. The month _Ikuwá_ is said to have been named from its being the season of thunderstorms. This does not of itself settle the time of its occurrence, for the reason that in Hawaii the procession of the seasons and the phenomena of weather follow no definite order; that is, though electrical storms occur, there is no definite season of thunderstorms. _Maka-li'i_ (verse 10) was not only the name of a month and the name applied to the Pleiades, but was also a name given the cool, the rainy, season. The name more commonly given this season was _Hooilo_. The Makahiki period, continuing four months, occurred at this time of the year. This was a season when the people rested from unnecessary labor and devoted themselves to festivals, games, and special religious observances. Allusion is made to this avoidance of toil in the words _Li'ili'i ka hana_ (verse 11). One can not fail to perceive a vein of gentle sarcasm cropping up in this idyl, softened, however, by a spirit of honest good feeling. Witness the following: _Noe-noe_ (verse 3), primarily meaning cloudy, conveys also the idea of agreeable coolness and refreshment. Again, while the multitude that follows the king is compared to the ravenous man-eating _Niuhi_ (verse 19), the final remark as to the rarity of the king's visits, _He loa o ka hiki'na_ (verse 21), may be taken not only as a salve to atone for the satire, but as a sly self-gratulation that the affliction is not to be soon repeated. [Page 219] XXX.--THE HULA KOLEA There was a peculiar class of hulas named after animals, in each one of which the song-maker developed some characteristic of the animal in a fanciful way, while the actors themselves aimed to portray the animal's movements in a mimetic fashion. To this class belongs the hula _kolea_.[411] It was a peculiar dance, performed, as an informant asserts, by actors who took the kneeling posture, all being placed in one row and facing in the same direction. There were gestures without stint, arms, heads, and bodies moving in a fashion that seemed to imitate in a far-off way the movements of the bird itself. There was no instrumental accompaniment to the music. The following mele is one that was given with this hula: Kolea kai piha![412] I aha mai nei? Ku-non[413] mai nei. E aha kakou? 5 E ai kakou.[414] Nohea ka ai?[415] No Kahiki mai.[415] Hiki mai ka Lani,[415] Olina Hawaii, 10 Mala'ela'e ke ala, Nou, e ka Lani. Puili pu ke aloha, Pili me ka'u manu.[416] Ka puana a ka moe? 15 Moe oe a hoolana [Page 220] Ka hali'a i hiki mai; Ooe pu me a'u Noho pu i ka wai aliali. Hai'na ia ka pauna. 20 O ka hua o ke kolea, aia i Kahiki.[417] Hiki mai kou aloha, mae'ele au. [Footnote 411: The plover.] [Footnote 412: _Kolea kai piha_. The kolea is a feeder along the shore, his range limited to a narrower strip as the tide rises. The snare was one of the methods used by the Hawaiians for the capture of this bird. In his efforts to escape when snared he made that futile bobbing motion with his head that must be familiar to every hunter.] [Footnote 413: Usually the bobbing motion, _ku-nou_, is the prelude to flight; but the snared bird can do nothing more, a fact which suggests to the poet the nodding and bowing of two lovers when they meet.] [Footnote 414: _E ai kakou_. Literally, let us eat. While this figure of speech often has a sensual meaning, it does not necessarily imply grossness. Hawaiian literalness and narrowness of vocabulary is not to be strained to the overthrow of poetical sentiment.] [Footnote 415: To the question _Nohea ka ai?_, whence the food? that is, the bird, the poet answers, _No Kahiki mai_, from Kahiki, from some distant region, the gift of heaven, it may be, as implied in the next line, _Hiki mai ka Lani_. The coming of the king, or chief, _Lani_, literally, the heaven-born, with the consummation of the love. Exactly what this connection is no one can say.] [Footnote 416: In the expression _Pili me ka'u manu_ the poet returns to his figure of a bird as representing a loved one.] [Footnote 417: _O ka hua o ke kolea, aia i Kahiki_. In declaring that the egg of the kolea is laid in a foreign land, Kahiki, the poet enigmatizes, basing his thought on some fancied resemblance between the mystery of love and the mystery of the kolea's birth.] [Translation] A plover at the full of the sea-- What, pray, is it saying to me? It keeps bobbing its noddy. To do what would you counsel? 5 Why, eat its plump body! Whence comes the sweet morsel? From the land of Kahiki. When our sovereign appears, Hawaii gathers for play, 10 Stumble-blocks cleared from the way-- Fit rule of the king's highway. Let each one embrace then his love; For me, I'll keep to my dove. Hark now, the signal for bed! 15 Attentive then to love's tread, While a wee bird sings in the soul, My love comes to me heart-whole-- Then quaff the waters of bliss. Say what is the key to all this? 20 The plover egg's laid in Kahiki. Your love, when it comes, finds me dumb. The plover--kolea--is a wayfarer in Hawaii; its nest-home is in distant lands, Kahiki. The Hawaiian poet finds in all this something that reminds him of the spirit of love. [Page 221] XXXI.--THE HULA MANÓ The hula _manó_, shark-dance, as its name signifies, was a performance that takes class with the hula kolea, already mentioned, as one of the animal dances. But little can be said about the physical features of this hula as a dance, save that the performers took a sitting position, that the action was without sensationalism, and that there was no instrumental accompaniment. The cantillation of the mele was in the distinct and quiet tone and manner which the Hawaiians termed ko'i-honua. The last and only mention found of its performance in modern times was in the year 1847, during the tour, previously mentioned, which Kamehameha III made about Oahu. The place was the lonely and romantic valley of Waimea, a name already historic from having been the scene of the tragic death of Lieutenant Hergest (of the ship _Dædalus_) in 1792. _Mele_ Auwe! pau au i ka manó nui, e! Lala-keat[418] niho pa-kolu. Pau ka papa-ku o Lono[419] I ka ai ia e ka manó nui, 5 O Niuhi maka ahi, Olapa i ke kai lipo. Ahu e! au-we! A pua ka wili-wili, A nanahu ka manó,[420] [Page 222] 10 Auwe! pau au i ka manó nui! Kai uli, kai ele, Kai popolohua o Kane. A lealea au i ka'u hula, Pau au i ka manó nui! [Footnote 418: _Lala-kea_. This proper name, as it seems once to have been, has now become rather the designation of a whole class of man-eating sea-monsters. The Hawaiians worshiped individual sharks as demigods, in the belief that the souls of the departed at death, or even before death, sometimes entered and took possession of them, and that they at times resumed human form. To this class belonged the famous shark Niuhi (verse 5).] [Footnote 419: _Papa-ku o Lono_. This was one of the underlying strata of the earth that must be passed before reaching _Mílu_, the hades of the Hawaiians. The cosmogony of the southern Polynesians, according to Mr. Tregear, recognized ten _papa_, or divisions. "The first division was the earth's surface; the second was the abode of Rongo-ma-tane and Haumia-tiketike; ... the tenth was Meto, or Ameto, or Aweto, wherein the soul of man found utter extinction." (The Maori-Polynesian Comparative Dictionary, by Edward Tregear, F.R.G.S., etc., Wellington, New Zealand, 1891.)] [Footnote 420: Verses 8 and 9 are from an old proverb which the Hawaiians put into the following quatrain: A pua ka wiliwili, A nanahu ka manó; A pua ka wahine u'i, A nanahu ke kanawai. [Translation] When flowers the wiliwili, Then bites the shark; When flowers a young woman. Then bites the law. The people came to take this old saw seriously and literally, and during the season when the wiliwili (Erythrina monosperma) was clothed in its splendid tufts of brick-red, mothers kept their children from swimming into the deep sea by setting before them the terrors of the shark.] [Translation] _Song_ Alas! I am seized by the shark, great shark! Lala-kea with triple-banked teeth. The stratum of Lono is gone, Torn up by the monster shark, 5 Niuhi with fiery eyes, That flamed in the deep blue sea. Alas! and alas! When flowers the wili-wili tree, That is the time when the shark-god bites. 10 Alas! I am seized by the huge shark! O blue sea, O dark sea, Foam-mottled sea of Kane! What pleasure I took in my dancing! Alas! now consumed by the monster shark! Who would imagine that a Hawaiian would ever picture the god of love as a shark? As a bird, yes; but as a shark! What a light this fierce idyl casts on the imagination of the people of ancient Hawaii! [Page 223] XXXII.--THE HULA ILÍO The dog took his part and played his enthusiastic rôle in the domestic life of every Hawaiian. He did not starve in a fool's paradise, a neglected object of man's superstitious regard, as in Constantinople; nor did he vie with kings and queens in the length and purity of his pedigree, as in England; but in Hawaii he entered with full heart of sympathy into all of man's enterprises, and at his death bequeathed his body a sacrifice to men and gods. It was fitting that the Hawaiian poet should celebrate the dog and his altogether virtuous and altruistic services to mankind. The hula _ilío_ may be considered as part of Hawaii's tribute to man's most faithful friend, the dog. The hula ilío was a classic performance that demanded of the actors much physical stir; they shifted their position, now sitting, now standing; they moved from place to place; indulged in many gestures, sometimes as if imitating the motions of the dog. This hula has long been out of commission. Like the two animal-hulas previously mentioned, it was performed without the aid of instrumental accompaniment. The allusions in this mele are to the mythical story that tells of Kane's drinking, revels on the heights about Waipi'o valley; how he and his fellows by the noise of their furious conching disturbed the prayers and rituals of King Liloa and his priests, Kane himself being the chief offender by his blowing on the conch-shell Kihapú, stolen from Liloa's temple of Paka'alana: its recovery by the wit and dramatic action of the gifted dog Puapua-lenalena. (See p. 131.) _Mele_ Ku e, naná e! Makole[421] o Ku! Hoolei ia ka lei,[422] I lei no Puapua-lenalena, 5 He lei hinano no Kahili,[423] He wehiwehi no Niho-kú[424] [Page 224] Kaanini ka lani,[425] uwé ka honua: A aoa aku oe; Lohe o Hiwa-uli,[426] 10 Ka milimili a ka lani. Noho opua i ka malámaláma Málama ia ka ipu.[427] He hano-wai no Kilioe,[428] Wahine noho pali o Haena. 15 Enaena na ahi o Kilauea,[429] Ka haku pali o Kamohoalii.[430] A noho i Waipi'o, Ka pali kapu a Kane. Moe ole ka po o ke alii, 20 Ke kani mau o Kiha-pú. Ukiuki, uluhua ke alii: Hoouna ka elele;[431] Loaa i Kauai o Máno, Kupueu a Wai-uli me Kahili; 25 A ao aku oe, aoa,[432] aoa a aoa. Hana e o Kaua-hoa,[433] Ka mea [=u] i o Hanalei, Hu'e'a kaua, moe i ke awakea, [Page 225] Kapae ke kaua o ka hoahanau![434] 30 Hookahi no pua o ka oi; Awili pu me ke kaio'e.[435] I lei no Puapua-lenalena. O ku'u luhi ua hiki iho la, Ka nioi o Paka'a-lana.[436] 35 A lana ka manao, hakuko'i 'loko, Ka hae mau ana a Puapua-lenalena, A hiki i Kuma-kahi,[437] Kahi an i noho ai, A hiki iho la ka elele, 40 Inu i ka awa kau-laau o Puna.[438] Aoa, he, he, hene! [Footnote 421: _Makole_. Red-eyed; ophthalmic.] [Footnote 422: The wreath, _lei_, is not for the god, but for the dog Puapua-lenalena, the one who in the story recovered the stolen conch, _Kiha-pú_ (verse 20), with which god Kane made night hideous and disturbed the repose of pious King Liloa (_Moe ole ka po o ke alii_, verse 19).] [Footnote 423: _Kahili_. Said to be the foster mother of Puapua-lenalena.] [Footnote 424: _Niho-kú_. Literally an upright tooth, was the name of the hill on which lived the old couple who were the foster parents of the dog.] [Footnote 425: _Kaanini ka lani_, etc. Portents by which heaven and earth expressed their appreciation of the birth of a new prodigy, the dog Puapua-lenalena.] [Footnote 426: _Hiwa-uli_. An epithet applied to the island of Hawaii, perhaps on account of the immense extent of territory on that island that was simply black lava; _hiwa_, black, was a sacred color. The term _uli_ has reference to its verdancy.] [Footnote 427: _Ipu_. Wai-uli, the foster father of the dog, while fishing in a mountain brook, brought up a pebble on his hook; his wife, who was childless and yearned for offspring, kept it in a calabash wrapped in choice tapa. In a year or two it had developed into the wonderful dog, Puapua-lenalena. The calabash was the _ipu_ here mentioned, the same as the _hano wai_ (verse 13), a water-container.] [Footnote 428: _Kilióe_. A sorceress who lived at Haena, Kauai, on the steep cliffs that were inaccessible to human foot.] [Footnote 429: _Ena-ena, na ahi o Kilauea_. "Hot are the fires of Kilauea." The duplicated word _ena-ena_, taken in connection with _Ha-ena_ in the previous verse, is a capital instance of a form of assonance, or nonterminal rhyme, much favored and occasionally used by Hawaiian poets of the middle period. From the fact that its use here introduces a break in the logical relation which it is hard to reconcile with unity one may think that the poet was seduced from the straight and narrow way by this opportunity for an indulgence that sacrifices reason to rhyme.] [Footnote 430: _Kamoho-alii_. The brother of Pele; his person was so sacred that the flames and smoke of Kilauea dared not invade the bank on which he reposed. The connection of thought between this and the main line of argument is not clear.] [Footnote 431: _Hoouna ka elele_. According to one story Liloa dispatched a messenger to bring Puapua-lenalena and his master to Waipi'o to aid him in regaining possession of Kiha-pú.] [Footnote 432: _A ao aku oe, aoa_ ... This indicated the dog's assent. Puapua-lenalena understood what was said to him, but could make no reply in human speech. When a question was put to him, if he wished to make a negative answer, he would keep silent; but if he wished to express assent to a proposition, he barked and frisked about.] [Footnote 433: _Hana e o Kaua-hoa_ ... No one has been found who can give a satisfactory explanation of the logical connection existing between the passage here cited and the rest of the poem. It treats of an armed conflict between Kauahoa and his cousin Kawelo, a hero from Oahu, which took place on Kauai. Kauahoa was a retainer and soldier of Ai-kanaka, a king of Kauai. The period was in the reign of King Kakuhihewa, of Oahu. Kawelo invaded Kauai with an armed force and made a proposition to Kauahoa which involved treachery to Kauahoa's liege-lord Ai-kanaka. Kauahoa's answer to this proposition is given in verse 28; _Hu'e a kaua, moe i ke awakea!_--"Strike home, then sleep at midday!" The sleep at midday was the sleep of death.] [Footnote 434: _Kapae ke kaua o ka hoahanau!_ This was the reply of Kawelo, urging Kauahoa to set the demands of kinship above those of honor and loyalty to his liege-lord. In the battle that ensued Kauahoa came to his death. The story of Kawelo is full of romance.] [Footnote 435: _Kaio'e_. Said to be a choice and beautiful flower found on Kauai. It is not described by Hillebrand.] [Footnote 436: _Ka nioi o Paka'a-lana_. The doorsill of the temple, _heiau_, of Paka'a-lana was made of the exceedingly hard wood _nioi_. It was to this temple that Puapua-lenalena brought the conch Kiha-pú when he had stolen (recovered) it from god Kane.] [Footnote 437: _Qumukahi_. See note _c_ on p. 197.] [Footnote 438: _Awa kau-laau o Puna_. It is said that in Puna the birds sometimes planted the awa in the stumps or in the crotches of the trees, and this awa was of the finest quality.] The author of this mele, apparently under the sanction of his poetic license, uses toward the great god Ku a plainness of speech which to us seems satirical; he speaks of him as _makole_, red-eyed, the result, no doubt, of his notorious addiction to awa, in which he was not alone among the gods. But it is not at all certain that the Hawaiians looked upon this ophthalmic redness as repulsive or disgraceful. Everything connected with awa had for them a cherished value. In the mele given on p. 130 the cry was, "Kane is drunken with awa!" The two gods Kane and Ku were companions in their revels as well as in nobler adventures. Such a poem as this flashes a strong light into the workings of the Hawaiian mind on the creations of their own imagination, the beings who stood to them as gods; not robbing them of their power, not deposing them from the throne of the universe, perhaps not even penetrating the veil of enchantment and mystery with which the popular regard covered them, at the most perhaps giving them a hold on the affections of the people. [Translation] _Song_ Look forth, god Ku, look forth! Huh! Ku is blear-eyed! Aye, weave now the wreath-- A wreath for the dog Pua-lena; 5 A hala plume for Kahili, Choice garlands from Niho-kú. [Page 226] There was a scurry of clouds, earth, groaned; The sound of your baying reached Hawaii the verdant, the pet of the gods; 10 A portent was seen in the heavens. You were kept in a cradle of gourd, Water-gourd of the witch Kilioe, Who haunted the cliffs of Haena-- The fiery blasts of the crater 15 Touch not Kamoho-alii's cliff. Your travel reaches Waipi'o, The sacred cliff of god Kane. Sleep fled the bed of the king At the din of the conch Kiha-pú. 20 The king was tormented, depressed; His messenger sped on his way; Found help from Kanai of Máno-- The marvelous foster child, By Waiuli, Kahuli, upreared; 25 Your answer, a-o-a, a-o-a!-- 'Twas thus Kauahoa made ready betimes, That hero of old Hanalei-- "Strike home! then sleep at midday!" "God fend a war between kindred!" 30 One flower all other surpasses; Twine with it a wreath of kai-o'e, A chaplet to crown Pua-lena. My labor now has its reward, The doorsill of Pa-ka'a-lana. 35 My heart leaps up in great cheer; The bay of the dog greets my ear, It reaches East Cape by the sea, Where Puna gave refuge to thee, Till came the king's herald, hot-foot, 40 And quaffed the awa's tree-grown root. A-o-a, a-o-a, he, he, hene! The problem to be solved by the translator of this peculiar mele is a difficult one. It involves a constant readjustment of the mental standpoint to meet the poet's vagrant fancy, which to us seems to occupy no consistent point of view. If this difficulty arises from the author's own lack of insight, he can at least absolve himself from the charge of negligence and lack of effort to discover the standpoint that shall give unity to the whole composition; and can console himself with the reflection that no native Hawaiian scholar with whom he has conferred has been able to give a key to the solution of this problem. In truth, the native Hawaiian scholars of to-day do not appreciate as we do the necessity of holding fast to one viewpoint. They seem to be willing to accept with gusto any production of their old-time singers, though they may not be able to explain them, and though to us, in whose hearts the songs of the masters ever make music, they may seem empty riddles. [Page 227] The solution of this problem here furnished is based on careful study of the text and of the allusions to tradition and myth that therein abound. Its expression in the translation has rendered necessary occasional slight departures from absolute literalness, and has involved the supplying of certain conjunctive and explanatory words and phrases of which the original, it is true, gives no hint, but without which the text would be meaningless. One learned Hawaiian with whom the author has enjoyed much conference persists in taking a most discouraging and pessimistic view of this mele. It is gratifying to be able to differ from him in this matter and to be able to sustain one's position by the consenting opinion of other Hawaiians equally accomplished as the learned friend just referred to. The incidents in the story of Puapua-lenalena alluded to in the mele do not exactly chime with any version of the legend met with. That is not strange. Hawaiian legends of necessity had many variants, especially where, as in this case, the adventures of the hero occurred in part on one and in part on another island. The author's knowledge of this story is derived from various independent sources, mainly from a version given to his brother, Joseph S. Emerson, who took it down from the words of an intelligent Hawaiian youth of Kohala. English literature, so far as known to the author, does not furnish any example that is exactly comparable to or that will serve as an illustration of this nonterminal rhyme, which abounds in Hawaiian poetry. Perhaps the following will serve the purpose of illustration: 'Twas the swine of Gadara, fattened on _mast_. The _mast_-head watch of a ship was the last To see the wild herd careering past, Or such a combination as this: He was a mere _flat_, Yet _flat_tered the girls. Such artificial productions as these give us but a momentary intellectual entertainment. While the intellectual element in them was not lacking with the Hawaiians, the predominant feeling, no doubt, was a sensuous delight coming from the repetition of a full-throated vowel-combination. [Page 228] XXXIII.--THE HULA PUA'A The hula _pua'a_ rounds out the number of animal-dances that have survived the wreck of time, or the memory of which has come down to us. It was a dance in which only the olapa took part without the aid of instrumental accompaniment. Women as well as men were eligible as actors in its performance. The actors put much spirit into the action, beating the chest, flinging their arms in a strenuous fashion, throwing the body into strained attitudes, at times bending so far back as almost to touch the floor. This energy seems to have invaded the song, and the cantillation of the mele is said to have been done in that energetic manner called _ai-ha'a_. The hula pua'a seems to have been native to Kauai. The author has not been able to learn of its performance within historic times on any other island. The student of Hawaiian mythology naturally asks whether the hula pua'a concerned itself with the doings of the mythological hog-deity Kama-pua'a whose amour with Pele was the scandal of Hawaiian mythology. It takes but a superficial reading of the mele to answer this question in the affirmative. The following mele, or oli more properly, which was used in connection with the hula pua'a, is said to have been the joint production of two women, the daughters of a famous bard named Kana, who was the reputed brother of Limaloa (long-armed), a wonder-working hero who piled up the clouds in imitation of houses and mountains and who produced the mirage: _Oli_ Ko'i maka nui,[439] Ike ia na pae moku, Na moku o Mala-la-walu,[440] Ka noho a Ka-maulu-a-niho, 5 Kupuna o Kama-pua'a. [Page 229] Ike ia ka hono a Pii-lani;[441] Ku ka paóa i na mokupuni. Ua puni au ia Pele, Ka u'i noho mau i Kilauea, 10 Anau hewa i ke a o Puna. Keiki kolohe a Ku ame Hina--[442] Hina ka opua, kau i ke olewa, Ke ao pua'a[443] maalo i Haupu. Haku'i ku'u manao e hoi[444] i Kahiki; 15 Pau ole ka'u hoohihi ia Hale-ma'u-ma'u,[445] I ka pali kapu a Ka-moho-alii.[446] Kela kuahiwi a mau a ke ahi. He manao no ko'u e noho pu; Pale 'a mai e ka hilahila, 20 I ka hakukole ia mai e ke Akua wahine Pale oe, pale au, iloko o ka hilahila; A hilahila wale ia iho no e oe; Nau no ia hale i noho.[447] Ka hana ia a ke Ko'i maka nui, 25 Ike ia na pae moku. He hiapo[448] au na Olopana, He hi'i-alo na Ku-ula, Ka mea nana na haka moa; [Page 230] Noho i ka uka o Ka-liu-wa'a;[449] 30 Ku'u wa'a ia ho'i i Kahiki. Pau ia ike ana ia Hawaii, Ka aina a ke Akua i hiki mai ai, I noho malihini ai i na moku o Hawaii. Malihini oe, malihini au, 35 Ko'i maka nui, ike ia na-pae opuaa. A pepelu, a pepelu, a pepelu Ko ia la huelo! pili i ka lemu! Hu! hu! hu! hu! Ka-haku-ma'a-lani[450] kou inoa! 40 A e o mai oe, e Kane-hoa-lani. Ua noa. [Footnote 439: _Ko'i maka nui_ The word _maka_, which from the connection here must mean the edge of an ax, is the word generally used to mean an eye. Insistence on their peculiarity leads one to think that there must have been something remarkable about the eyes of Kama-pua'a. One account describes Kama-pua'a as having eight eyes and as many feet. It is said that on one occasion as Kama-pua'a was lying in wait for Pele in a volcanic bubble in the plains of Puna Pele's sisters recognized his presence by the gleam of his eyes. They immediately walled up the only door of exit.] [Footnote 440: _Mala-la-walu_. A celebrated king of Maui, said to have been a just ruler, who was slain in battle on Hawaii while making war against Lono-i-ka-makahiki, the rightful ruler of the island. It may be asked if the name is not introduced here because of the word _walu_ (eight) as a reference to Kama-pua'a's eight eyes.] [Footnote 441: _Pi'i-lani_. A king of Maui, father-in-law to Umi, the son of Liloa.] [Footnote 442: _Hina_. There were several Hinas in Hawaiian mythology and tradition. Olopana, the son of Kamaulu-a-niho (Fornander gives this name as Ka-maunu-a-niho), on his arrival from Kahiki, settled in Koolau and married a woman named Hina. Kama-pua'a is said to be the natural son of Hina by Kahiki-ula, the brother of Olopana. To this Olopana was attributed the heiau of Kawaewae at Kaneohe.] [Footnote 443: _A o pu-a'a_. The cloud-cap that often rested on the summit of Haupu, a mountain on Kauai, near Koloa, is said to have resembled the shape of a pig. It was a common saying, "The pig is resting on Haupu."] [Footnote 444: _Ho'i_. To return. This argues that, if Kama-pua'a was not originally from Kahiki, he had at least visited there.] [Footnote 445: _Hale-ma'u-ma'u_. This was an ancient lava-cone which until within a few years continued to be the most famous fire-lake in the caldera of Kilauea. It was so called, probably, because the roughness of its walls gave it a resemblance to one of those little shelters made from rough _ama'u_ fern such as visitors put up for temporary convenience. The word has not the same pronunciation and is not to be confounded with that other word _mau_, meaning everlasting.] [Footnote 446: _Kamoho-ali'i_. The brother of Pele; in one metamorphosis he took the form of a shark. A high point in the northwest quarter of the wall of Kilauea was considered his special residence and regarded as so sacred that no smoke or flame from the volcano ever touched it. He made his abode chiefly In the earth's underground caverns, through which the sun made its nightly transit from West back to the East. He often retained the orb of the day to warm and illumine his abode. On one such occasion the hero Mawi descended into this region and stole away the sun that his mother Hina might have the benefit of its heat in drying her tapas.] [Footnote 447: _Hale i noho_. The word _hale_, meaning house, is frequently used metaphorically for the human body, especially that of a woman. Pele thus acknowledges her amour with Kama-pua'a.] [Footnote 448: _Hiapo_. A firstborn child. Legends are at variance with one another as to the parentage of Kama-pua'a. According to the legend referred to previously, Kama-pua'a was the son of Olopana's wife Hina, his true father being Kahiki-ula, the brother of Olopana. Olopana seems to have treated him as his own son. After Kama-pua'a's robbery of his mother's henroosts, Olopana chased the thief into the mountains and captured him. Kama eventually turned the tables against his benefactor and caused the death of Olopana through the treachery of a priest in a heiau; he was offered up on the altar as a sacrifice.] [Footnote 449: _Ka-liu-wa'a_. The bilge of the canoe. This is the name of a deep and narrow valley at Hauula, Koolau, Oahu, and is well worth a visit. Kama-pua'a, hard pressed by the host of his enemies, broke through the multitude that encompassed him on the land side and with his followers escaped up this narrow gorge. When the valley came to an abrupt end before him, and he could retreat no farther, he reared up on his hind legs and scaled the mountain wall; his feet, as he sprang up, scored the precipice with immense hollowed-out grooves or flutings. The Hawaiians call these _wa'a_ from their resemblance to the hollow of a Hawaiian canoe. This feat of the hog-god compelled recognition of Kama-pua'a as a deity; and from that time no one entered Ka-liu-wa'a valley without making an offering to Kama-pua'a.] [Footnote 450: _Ka-haku-ma'a-lani._ A name evidently applied to Kama-pua'a.] [Translation] _Song_ Ax of broadest edge I'm hight; The island groups I've visited, Islands of Mala-la-walu, Seat of Ka-maulu-a-niho, 5 Grandam of Kama, the swine-god. I have seen Pi'i-lani's glory, Whose fame spreads over the islands. Enamored was I of Pele; Her beauty holds court at the fire-pit, 10 Given to ravage the plains of Puna. Mischievous son of Ku, and of Hina, Whose cloud-bloom hangs in ether, The pig-shaped cloud that shadows Haupu. An impulse comes to return to Kahiki-- 15 The chains of the pit still gall me, The tabu cliff of Ka-moho-alii, The mount that is ever ablaze. I thought to have domiciled with her; Was driven away by mere shame-- 20 The shameful abuse of the goddess! Go thou, go I--a truce to the shame. It was your manners that shamed me. Free to you was the house we lived in. These were the deeds of Broad-edged-Ax, 25 Who has seen the whole group of islands. Olopana's firstborn am I, Nursed in the arms of Ku-ula; [Page 231] Hers were the roosts for the gamecocks. The wilds of Ka-liu-wa'a my home, 30 That too my craft back to Kahiki; This my farewell to Hawaii, Land of the God's immigration. Strangers we came to Hawaii; A stranger thou, a stranger I, 35 Called Broad-edged-Ax: I've read the cloud-omens in heaven. It curls, it curls! his tail--it curls! Look, it clings to his buttocks! Faugh, faugh, faugh, faugh, uff! 40 What! Ka-haku-ma'a-lani your name! Answer from heaven, oh Kane! My song it is done! If one can trust, the statement of the Hawaiian who communicated the above mele, it represents only a portion of the whole composition, the first canto--if we may so term it--having dropped into the limbo of forgetfulness. The author's study of the mele lends no countenance to such a view. Like all Hawaiian poetry, this mele wastes no time with introductory flourishes; it plunges at once in medias res. Hawaiian mythology figured Pele, the goddess of the volcano, as a creature of passion, capable of many metamorphoses; now a wrinkled hag, asleep in a cave on a rough lava bed, with banked fires and only an occasional blue flame playing about her as symbols of her power; now a creature of terror, riding on a chariot of flame and carrying destruction; and now as a young woman of seductive beauty, as when she sought passionate relations with the handsome prince, Lohiau; but in disposition always jealous, fickle, vengeful. Kama-pua'a was a demigod of anomalous birth, character, and make-up, sharing the nature and form of a man and of a hog, and assuming either form as suited the occasion. He was said to be the nephew of Olopana, a king of Oahu, whose kindness in acting as his foster father he repaid by the robbery of his henroosts and other unfilial conduct. He lived the lawless life of a marauder and freebooter, not confining his operations to one island, but swimming from one to another as the fit took him. On one occasion, when, the farmers of Waipi'o, whom he had robbed, assembled with arms to bar his retreat and to deal vengeance upon him, he charged upon the multitude, overthrew them with great slaughter, and escaped with his plunder. Toward Pele Kama-pua'a assumed the attitude of a lover, whose approaches she at one time permitted to her peril. The incident took place in one of the water caves--volcanic bubbles--in Puna, and at the level of the ocean; but when he had the audacity to invade her privacy and call to her as she reposed in her home at Kilauea she repelled his advances and answered his persistence with a fiery onset, from which he [Page 232] fled in terror and discomfiture, not halting until he had put the width of many islands and ocean channels between himself and her. In seeking an explanation of this myth of Pele, the volcano god and Kama-pua'a, who, on occasion, was a sea-monster, there is no necessity to hark back to the old polemics of Asia. Why not account for this remarkable myth as the statement in terms of passion familiar to all Hawaiians of those impressive natural phenomena that were daily going on before them? The spectacle of the smoking mountain pouring out its fiery streams, overwhelming river and forest, halting not until they had invaded the ocean; the awful turmoil as fire and water came in contact; the quick reprisal as the angry waves overswept the land; then the subsiding and retreat of the ocean to its own limits and the restoration of peace and calm, the fiery mount still unmoved, an apparent victory for the volcanic forces. Was it not this spectacular tournament of the elements that the Hawaiian sought to embody and idealize in his myth of Pele and Kama-pua'a?[451] [Footnote 451: "The Hawaiian tradition of _Pele_, the dread goddess of the volcanic fires," says Mr. Fornander, "analogous to the Samoan _Fe'e_, is probably a local adaptation in aftertimes of an elder myth, half forgotten and much distorted. The contest related in the legend between Pele and _Kamapua'a_, the eight-eyed monster demigod, indicates, however, a confused knowledge of some ancient strife between religious sects, of which the former represented the worshipers of fire and the latter those with whom water was the principal element worthy of adoration." (Abraham Fornander, The Polynesian Race, pp. 51, 52, Trubner & Co., London.)] The likeness to be found between the amphibious Kama-pua'a and the hog appeals picturesquely to one's imagination in many ways. The very grossness of the hog enables him becomingly to fill the role of the Beast as a foil to Pele, the Beauty. The hog's rooting snout, that ravages the cultivated fields; his panicky retreat when suddenly disturbed; his valiant charge and stout resistance if cornered; his lowered snout in charge or retreat; his curling tail--how graphically all these features appeal to the imagination in support of the comparison which likens him to a tidal wave. [Page 233] XXXIV.--THE HULA OHELO The hula _ohelo_ was a very peculiar ancient dance, in which the actors, of both sexes, took a position almost that of reclining, the body supported horizontally by means of the hand and extended leg of one side, in such a manner that flank and buttock did not rest upon the floor, while the free leg and arm of the opposite side swung in wide gestures, now as if describing the arch of heaven, or sweeping the circle of the horizon, now held straight, now curved like a hook. At times the company, acting in concert, would shift their base of support from the right hand to the left hand, or vice versa. The whole action, though fantastical, was conducted with modesty. There was no instrumental accompaniment; but while performing the gymnastics above described the actors chanted the words of a mele to some Old World tune, the melody and rhythm of which are lost. A peculiar feature of the training to which pupils were subjected in preparation for this dance was to range them in a circle about a large fire, their feet pointing to the hearth. The theory of this practice was that the heat of the fire suppled the limbs and imparted vivacity to the motions, on the same principle apparently as fire enables one to bend into shape a crooked stick. The word _kapuahi_, fireplace, in the fourth line of the mele, is undoubtedly an allusion to this practice. The fact that the climate of the islands, except in the mountains and uplands, is rarely so cold as to make it necessary to gather about a fire seems to argue that the custom of practising this dance about a fireplace must have originated in some land of climate more austere than Hawaii. It is safe to say that very few kumu-hulas have seen and many have not even heard of the hula ohelo. The author has an authentic account of its production at Ewa in the year 1856, its last performance, so far as he can learn, on the public stage. _Mele_ 1 Ku, oe ko'u wahi ohelo nei la, auwe, auwe! Maka'u au i kau mea nui wali-wali, wali-wali! Ke hoolewa nei, a lewa la, a lewa nei! Minomino, enaena ka ia la kapuani, kapuahi! 5 Nenea i ka la'i o Kona, o Kona, a o Kona! Ponu malino i ke kai hawana-wana, hawana-wana! He makau na ka lawaia nui, a nui e, a nui la! Ke o-é nei ke aho o ka ipu-holoholona, holoholona! [Page 234] Naná, i ka opua makai e, makai la! 10 Maikai ka hana a Mali'o e, a Mali'o la! Kohu pono ka inu ana i ka wai, a wai e! Auwe, ku oe ko'u wahi ohelo nei la, ohelo nei la! 2 Ki-ó lele, ki-ó lele, ki-ó lele, e! Ke mapu mai nei ke ala, ke ala e! 15 Ua malihini ka hale, ua hiki ia, ua hiki e! Ho'i paoa i ka uka o Manai-ula, ula la, ula e! Maanei oe, e ka makemake e noho malie, ma-li-e! Ka pa kolonahe o ka Unulau mahope, ma-ho-pe! Pe'e oe, a pe'e au, pe'e o ia la, 20 A haawe ke aloha i ke kaona, i ke kaona la! Mo-li-a i ka nahele e, nahele la! E hele oe a manao mai i ka luhi mua, a i-mua! O moe hewa na iwi i ke alanui, alanui. Kaapa Hawaii a ka moku nui, a nui e! 25 Nui mai ke aloha a uwe au, a uwe au. Au-we! pau au i ka manó nui, manó nui! Au-we! pau au i ka manó nui, manó nui! [Translation] _Song_ 1 Touched, thou art touched by my gesture, I fear, I fear. I dread your mountain of flesh, of flesh; How it sways, how it sways, it sways! I'm scorched by the heat of this hearth, this hearth. 5 We bask in this summer of Kona, of Kona; Calm mantles the whispering sea, the whispering sea. Lo, the hook of the fisherman great, oh so great! The line hums as it runs from the gourd, from the gourd. Regard the cloud-omens over the sea, the sea. 10 Well skilled in his craft is Mali'o, Mali'o. How grateful now were a draught of water, of water! Pardon! thou art touched by thrust of my leg, of my leg! 2 Forth and return, forth and return, forth and return! Now waft the woodland perfumes, the woodland perfumes. 15 The house ere we entered was tenant-free, quite free. Heart-heavy we turn to the greenwood, the greenwood; This the place, Heart's desire, you should tarry, And feel the soft breath of the Unulau, Unulau-- Retirement for you, retirement for me, and for him. 20 We'll give then our heart to this task, this great task, And build in the wildwood a shrine, ay a shrine. You go; forget not the toils we have shared, have shared, Lest your bones lie unblest in the road, in the road. How wearisome, long, the road 'bout Hawaii, great Hawaii! 25 Love carries me off with a rush, and I cry, I cry, Alas, I'm devoured by the shark, great shark! This is not the first time that a Hawaiian poet has figured love by the monster shark. [Illustration: BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 38 PLATE XXIII HINANO HALA MALE FLOWER OF THE PANDANUS ODORATISSIMUS] [Page 235] XXXV.--THE HULA KILU The hula _kilu_ was so called from being used in a sport bearing that name which was much patronized by the alii class of the ancient regime. It was a betting game, or, more strictly, forfeits were pledged, the payment of which was met by the performance of a dance, or by the exaction of kisses and embraces. The satisfaction of these forfeits not infrequently called for liberties and concessions that could not be permitted on the spot or in public, but must wait the opportunity of seclusion. There were, no doubt, times when the conduct of the game was carried to such a pitch of license as to offend decency; but as a rule the outward proprieties were seemingly as well regarded as at an old-fashioned husking bee, when the finding of the "red ear" conferred or imposed the privilege or penalty of exacting or granting the blushing tribute of a kiss. Actual improprieties were not witnessed. The game of kilu was played in an open matted space that lay between the two divisions of the audience--the women being on one side and the men on the other. Any chief of recognized rank in the _papa alii_ was permitted to join in the game; and kings and queens were not above participating in the pleasures of this sport. Once admitted to the hall or inclosure, all were peers and stood on an equal footing as to the rules and privileges of the game. King nor queen could plead exemption from the forfeits incurred nor deny to another the full exercise of privileges acquired under the rules. The players, five or more of each sex, having been selected by the president, _La anoano_ ("quiet day"), sat facing each other in the space between the spectators. In front of each player stood a conical block of heavy wood, broad at the base to keep it upright. The kilu, with which the game was played, was an oval, one-sided dish, made by cutting in two an egg-shaped coconut shell. The object of the player was to throw his kilu so that it should travel with a sliding and at the same time a rotary motion across the matted floor and hit the wooden block which stood before the one of his choice on the side opposite. The men and the women took turns in playing. A successful hit entitled the player to claim a kiss from his opponent, a toll which was exacted at once. Success in winning ten points made one the victor in the game, and, according to some, entitled him to claim the larger forfeit, [Page 236] such as was customary in the democratic game of _ume_. The payment of these extreme forfeits was delayed till a convenient season, or might be commuted---on grounds of policy, or at the request of the loser, if a king or queen--by an equivalent of land or other valuable possession. Still no fault could be found if the winner insisted on the strict payment of the forfeit. The game of kilu was often got up as a compliment, a supreme expression of hospitality, to distinguished visitors of rank, thus more than making good the polite phrase of the Spanish don, "all that I have is yours." The fact that the hula kilu was performed by the alii class, who took great pains and by assiduous practice made themselves proficient that they might be ready to exhibit their accomplishment before the public, was a guarantee that this hula, when performed by them, would be of more than usual grace and vivacity. When performed in the halau as a tabu dance, according to some, the olapa alone took part, and the number of dancers, never very large, was at times limited to one performer. Authorities differ as to whether any musical instrument was used as an accompaniment. From an allusion to this dance met with in an old story it is quite certain that the drum was sometimes used as an accompaniment. Let us picture to ourselves the scene: A shadowy, flower-scented hall; the elite of some Hawaiian court and their guests, gathered, in accord with old-time practice, to contend in a tournament of wit and grace and skill, vying with one another for the prize of beauty. The president has established order in the assembly; the opposing players have taken their stations, each one seated behind his target-block. The tallykeeper of one side now makes the challenge. "This kilu," says he, "is a love token; the forfeit a kiss." An Apollo of the opposite side joyfully takes up the gauge. His tallykeeper introduces him by name. He plumes himself like a wild bird of gay feather, standing forth in the decorous finery of his rank, girded and flowerbedecked after the manner of the halau, eager to win applause for his party not less than to secure for himself the loving reward of victory. In his hand is the instrument of the play, the kilu; the artillery of love, however, with which he is to assail the heart and warm the imagination of the fair woman opposed to him is the song he shoots from his lips. The story of the two songs next to be presented is one, and will show us a side of Hawaiian life on which we can not afford entirely to close our eyes. During the stay at Lahaina of Kamehameha, called the Great--whom an informant in this matter always calls "the murderer," in protest against the treacherous assassination of Keoua, which took place at Kawaihae in Kamehameha's very presence--a high chiefess of his court named Kalola engaged in a love affair with a young [Page 237] man of rank named Ka'i-áma. He was much her junior, but this did not prevent his infatuation. Early one morning she rose, leaving him sound asleep, and took canoe for Molokai to serve as one of the escort to the body of her relative, Keola, on the way to its place of sepulture. Some woman, appreciating the situation, posted to the house and waked the sleeper with the information. Ka'iáma hastened to the shore, and as he strained his vision to gain sight of the woman of his infatuation the men at the paddles and the bristling throng on the central platform--the _pola_--of the craft, vanishing in the twilight, made on his imagination the impression of a hazy mountain thicket floating on the waves, but hiding from view some rare flower. He gave vent to his feelings in song: _Mele_ Pua ehu kamaléna[452] ka uka o Kapa'a; Luhi-ehu iho la[453] ka pua i Maile-húna; Hele a ha ka iwi[454] a ke Koolau, Ke puá mai i ka maka o ka nahelehele, 5 I hali hoo-muú,[455] hoohalana i Wailua. Pa kahea a Koolau-wahine, O Pua-ke'i, e-e-e-e! He pua laukona[456] ka moe e aloh' aí; O ia moe la, e kaulele hou[457] 10 No ka po i hala aku aku nei. Hoiho kaua a eloelo, e ka hoa, e, A hookahi! [Translation] _Song_ Misty and dim, a bush in the wilds of Kapa'a, The paddlers bend to their work, as the flower-laden Shrub inclines to the earth in Maile-húna; They sway like reeds in the breeze to crack their bones 5 Such the sight as I look at this tossing grove, The rhythmic dip and swing on to Wailua. My call to the witch shall fly with the breeze, Shall be heard at Pua-ke'i, e-he, e-he! The flower-stalk Laukóna beguiles man to love, 10 Can bring back the taste of joys once our own, [Page 238] Make real again the hours that are flown. Turn hither, mine own, let's drench us with love-- Just for one night! [Footnote 452: _Pua ehu Kamaléna_ (yellow child). This exclamation is descriptive of the man's visual impression on seeing the canoe with its crowd of passengers and paddlers, in the misty light of morning, receding in the distance. The kamaléna is a mountain shrub having a yellow flower.] [Footnote 453: _Luhi ehu iho la_. Refers to the drooping of a shrub under the weight of its leaves and flowers, a figure applied to the bending of the paddlemen to their work.] [Footnote 454: _Hele a ha ka iwi_. An exaggerated figure of speech, referring to the exertions of the men at their paddles (_ha_, to strain).] [Footnote 455: _I hali hoomú_. This refers in a fine spirit of exaggeration to the regular motions of the paddlers.] [Footnote 456: _Pua laukona_. A kind of sugar-cane which was prescribed and used by the kahunas as an aphrodisiac.] [Footnote 457: _Kaulele hou_. To experience, or to enjoy, again.] The unchivalrous indiscretion of the youth in publishing the secret of his amour elicited from Kamehameha only the sarcastic remark, "Couldn't he eat his food and keep his mouth shut?" The lady herself took the same view of his action. There was no evasion in her reply; her only reproach was for his childishness in blabbing. _Mele_ Kálakálaíhi, kaha[458] ka La ma ke kua o Lehua; Lulana iho la ka pihe a ke Akua;[459] Ea mai ka Unulau[460] o Halali'i; Lawe ke Koolau-wahine[461] i ka hoa la, lilo; 5 Hao ka Mikioi[462] i ke kai o Lehua: Puwa-i'a na hoa-makani[463] mai lalo, e-e-e, a. I hoonalonalo i ke aloha, pe'e ma-loko; Ha'i ka wai-maka hanini; I ike aku no i ka uwe ana iho; 10 Pelá wale no ka hoa kamalii, e-e, a! [Translation] _Song_ The sun-furrow gleams at the back of Lehua; The King's had his fill of scandal and chaff; The wind-god empties his lungs with a laugh; And the Mikioi tosses the sea at Lehua, 5 As the trade-wind wafts his friend on her way-- A congress of airs that ruffles the bay. Hide love 'neath a mask--that's all I would ask. To spill but a tear makes our love-tale appear; He pours out his woe; I've seen it, I know; 10 That's the way with a boy-friend, heigh-ho! The art of translating from the Hawaiian into the English tongue consists largely in a fitting substitution of generic for specific terms. The Hawaiian, for instance, had at command scores of specific names for the same wind, or for [Page 239] the local modifications that were inflicted upon it by the features of the landscape. One might almost say that every cape and headland imposed a new nomenclature upon the breeze whose direction it influenced. He rarely contented himself with using a broad and comprehensive term when he could match the situation with a special form. [Footnote 458: The picture of the sun declining, _kaha_, to the west, its reflected light-track, _kala kalaihi_, farrowing the ocean with glory, may be taken to be figurative of the loved and beautiful woman, Kalola, speeding on her westward canoe-flight.] [Footnote 459: _Akua_. Literally a god, must stand for the king.] [Footnote 460: _Unulau_. A special name for the trade-wind.] [Footnote 461: _Koolau-wahine_. Likewise another name for the trade-wind, here represented as carrying off the (man's) companion.] [Footnote 462: _Mikioi_. An impetuous, gusty wind is represented as lashing the ocean at Lehua, thus picturing the emotional stir attending Kalola's departure.] [Footnote 463: The words _Puwa-i'a na hoa makani_, which literally mean that the congress of winds, _na hoa makani_, have stirred up a commotion, even as a school of fish agitate the surface, of the ocean, _puwa-i'a_, refer to the scandal caused by Ka'i-ama's conduct.] The singer restricts her blame to charging her youthful lover with an indiscreet exhibition of childish emotion. The mere display of emotion evinced by the shedding of tears was in itself a laudable action and in good form. This first reply of the woman to her youthful lover did not by any means exhaust her armament of retaliation. When she next treats of the affair it is with an added touch of sarcasm and yet with a sang-froid that proved it had not unsettled her nerves. _Mele_ Ula Kala'e-loa[464] i ka lepo a ka makani; Hoonu'anu'a na pua i Kalama-ula, He hoa i ka la'i a ka manu--[465] Manu ai ia i ka hoa laukona. 5 I keke lau-au'a ia e ka moe; E kuhi ana ia he kanaka e. Oau no keia mai luna a lalo; Huná, ke aloha, pe'e maloko. Ike 'a i ka uwe ana iho. 10 Pelá ka hoa kamalii-- He uwe wale ke kamalii. [Translation] _Song_ Red glows Kala'e through the wind-blown dust That defiles the flowers of Lama-ula, Outraged by the croak of this bird, That eats of the aphrodisiac cane, 5 And then boasts the privileged bed. He makes me a creature of outlaw: True to myself from crown to foot-sole, My love I've kept sacred, pent up within. He flouts it as common, weeping it forth-- 10 That is the way with a child-friend; A child just blubbers at nothing. [Footnote 464: _Kala'e-loa_. The full name of the place on Molokai now known as Kala'e.] [Footnote 465: _La'i a ka manu_. Some claim this to be a proper name, _La'i-a-ka-manu_, that of a place near Kala'e. However that may be the poet evidently uses the phrase here in its etymological sense.] To return to the description of the game, the player, having uttered his vaunt in true knightly fashion, with a dexterous whirl now sends his kilu spinning on its course. If his play is successful and the kilu strikes the target on the other [Page 240] side at which he aims, the audience, who have kept silence till now, break forth in applause, and his tally-keeper proclaims his success in boastful fashion: _Oli_ A úweuwé ke kó'e a ke kae; Puehuehu ka la, komo inoino; Kakía, kahe ka ua ilalo. [Translation] Now wriggles the worm to its goal; A tousling; a hasty encounter; A grapple; down falls the rain. It is now the winner's right to cross over and claim his forfeit. The audience deals out applause or derision in unstinted measure; the enthusiasm reaches fever-point when some one makes himself the champion of the game by bringing his score up to ten, the limit. The play is often kept up till morning, to be resumed the following night.[466] [Footnote 466: The account above given is largely based on David Malo's description of the game kilu. In his confessedly imperfect list of the hulas he does not mention the hula kilu. This hula was, however, included in the list of hulas announced for performance in the programme of King Kalakaua's coronation ceremonies.] Here also is a mele, which tradition reports to have been cantillated by Hiiaka, the sister of Pele, during her famous kilu contest with the Princess Pele-ula, which took place at Kou--the ancient name for Honolulu--on Hiiaka's voyage of return from Kauai to her sister's court at Kilauea. In this affair Lohiau and Wahineoma'o contended on the side of Hiiaka, while Pele-ula was assisted by her husband, Kou, and by other experts. But on this occasion the dice were cogged; the victory was won not by human skill but by the magical power of Hiiaka, who turned Pele-ula's kilu away from the target each time she threw it, but used her gift to compel it to the mark when the kilu was cast by herself. _Mele_ Ku'u noa mai ka makani kuehu-kapa o Kalalau,[467] Mai na pali ku'i[468] o Makua-iki, Ke lawe la i ka haka,[469] a lilo! A lilo o-e, la! 5 Ku'u kane i ka uhu ka'i o Maka-pu'u, Huki iluna ka Lae-o-ka-laau;[470] Oia pali makua-ole[471] olaila. Ohiohi ku ka pali o Ulamao, e-e! A lilo oe, la! [Footnote 467: _Ka-lalau_ (in the translation by the omission of the article _ka_, shortened to _Lalau_). A deep cliff-bound valley on the windward side of Kauai, accessible only at certain times of the year by boats and by a steep mountain trail at its head.] [Footnote 468: _Pali ku'i_. _Ku'i_ means literally to join together, to splice or piece out. The cliffs tower one above another like the steps of a stairway.] [Footnote 469: _Haka_. A ladder or frame such as was laid across a chasm or set up at an impassable place in a precipitous road. The windward side of Kauai about Kalalau abounded in such places.] [Footnote 470: _Lae-o-ka-laau_. The southwest point of Molokai, on which is a light-house.] [Footnote 471: _Makua-ole_. Literally fatherless, perhaps meaning remarkable, without peer.] [Page 241] [Translation] _Song_ Comrade mine in the robe-stripping gusts of Lalau, On the up-piled beetling cliffs of Makua, The ladder... is taken away... it is gone! Your way is cut off, my man! 5 With you I've backed the uhu of Maka-pu'u, Tugging them up the steeps of Point-o'-woods, A cliff that stands fatherless, even as Sheer stands the pali of Ula-mao-- And thus... you are lost! This is but a fragment of the song which Hiiaka pours out in her efforts to calm the fateful storm which she saw piling up along the horizon. The situation was tragic. Hiiaka, daring fate, defying the dragons and monsters of the primeval world, had made the journey to Kauai, had snatched away from death the life of Lohiau and with incredible self-denial was escorting the rare youth to the arms of her sister, whose jealousy she knew to be quick as the lightning, her vengeance hot as the breath of the volcano, and now she saw this featherhead, with monstrous ingratitude, dallying with fate, calling down upon the whole party the doom she alone could appreciate, all for the smile of a siren whose charms attracted him for the moment; but, worst of all, her heart condemned her as a traitress--she loved him. Hiiaka held the trick-card and she won; by her miraculous power she kept the game in her own hands and foiled the hopes of the lovers. _Mele_ Ula ka lani ia Kanaloa,[472] Ula ma'ema'e ke ahi a ke A'e-loa.[473] Pohina iluna i ke ao makani, Naue pu no i ka ilikai o Makahana-loa,[474] 5 Makemake i ka ua lihau.[475] Aohe hana i koe a Ka-wai-loa;[476] Noho a ka li'u-lá i ke kula. I kula oe no ka makemake, a hiki iho, I hoa hula no ka la le'ale'a, 10 I noho pu me ka uahi pohina.[477] [Page 242] Hina oe i ka Naulu,[478] noho pu me ka Inuwai.[479] Akahi no a pumehana ka hale, ua hiki oe: Ma'ema'e ka luna i Haupu.[480] Upu ka makemake e ike ia Ka-ala. 15 He ala ka makemake e ike ia Lihu'e;[481] Ku'u uka ia noho ia Halemano.[482] Maanei oe, pale oe, pale au, Hana ne'e ke kikala i ka ha'i keiki. Hai'na ka manao--noho i Waimea, 20 Hoonu'u pu i ka i'a ku o ka aina.[483] E kala oe a kala au a kala ia Ku, Ahuena.[484] [Footnote 472: _Kanaloa_. One of the four great gods of the Hawaiians, here represented as playing the part of Phoebus Apollo.] [Footnote 473: _A'e-loa_. The name of a wind whose blowing was said to be favorable to the fisherman in this region.] [Footnote 474: _Makahana-loa_, A favorite fishing ground. The word _ilikai_ ("skin of the sea") graphically depicts the calm of the region. In the translation the name aforementioned has been shortened to Kahana.] [Footnote 475: _Lihau_. A gentle rain that was considered favorable to the work of the fisherman.] [Footnote 476: _Ka-wai-loa_. A division of Waialua, here seemingly used to mean the farm.] [Footnote 477: _Uahi pohina_. Literally gray-headed smoke. It is said that when studying together the words of the mele the pupils and the kumu would often gather about a fire, while the teacher recited and expounded the text. There is a possible allusion to this in the mention of the smoke.] [Footnote 478: _Naulu_. A wind.] [Footnote 479: _Inu-wai_. A wind that dried up vegetation, here indicating thirst.] [Footnote 480: _Haupu_. A mountain on Kauai, sometimes visible on Oahu in clear weather. (See note _c_, p. 229, on Haupu.)] [Footnote 481: _Lihu'e_. A beautiful and romantic region nestled, as the Hawaiians say, "between the thighs of the mountain," Mount Kaala.] [Footnote 482: _Hale-mano_. Literally the multitude of houses; a sylvan region bound to the southwestern flank of the Konahuanui range of mountains, a region of legend and romance, since the coming of the white man given over to the ravage and desolation that follow the free-ranging of cattle and horses, the vaquero, and the abusive use of fire and ax by the woodman.] [Footnote 483: _I'a ku o ka aina_. Fish common to a region; in this place it was probably the kala, which word is found in the next line, though in a different sense. Here the expression is doubtless a euphemism for dalliance.] [Footnote 484: _Ku, Ahuena_. At Waimea, Oahu, stood two rocks on the opposite bluffs that sentineled the bay. These rocks were said to represent respectively the gods Ku and Ahuena, patrons of the local fishermen.] [Translation] _Song_ Kanaloa tints heaven with a blush, 'Tis the flame of the A'e, pure red, And gray the wind-clouds overhead. We trudge to the waters calm of Kahana-- 5 Heaven grant us a favoring shower! The work is all done on the farm. We stay till twilight steals o'er the plain, Then, love-spurred, tramp o'er it again, Have you as partner in holiday dance-- 10 We've moiled as one in the gray smoke; Cast down by the Naulu, you thirst. For once the house warms at your coming. How clear glow the heights of yon Haupu! I long for the sight of Ka-ala, 15 And sweet is the thought of Lihu'e, And our mountain retreat, Hale-mano. Here, fenced from each other by tabu, Your graces make sport for the crowd. What then the solution? Let us dwell 20 At Waimea and feast on the fish That swarm in the neighboring sea, With freedom to you and freedom to me, Licensed by Ku and by Ahu-éna. [Page 243] The scene of this idyl is laid in the district of Waialua, Oahu, but the poet gives his imagination free range regardless of the unities. The chief subjects of interest that serve as a trellis about which the human sentiments entwine concern the duties of the fisherman, who is also a farmer; the school for the hula, in which the hero and the heroine are pupils; and lastly an ideal condition of happiness which the lovers look forward to tinder the benevolent dispensation of the gods Ku and Ahuena. Among the numerous relatives of Pele was one said to be a sister, who was stationed on a bleak sun-burnt promontory in Koolau, Oahu, where she supported a half-starved existence, striving to hold soul and body together by gathering the herbs of the fields, eked out by unsolicited gifts of food contributed by passing travelers. The pathetic plaint given below is ascribed to this goddess. _Mele_ Mao wale i ka lani Ka leo o ke Akua pololi. A pololi a moe au O ku'u la pololi, 5 A ola i kou aloha; I na'i pu no i ka waimaka e uwe nei. E uwe kaua, e! [Translation] _Song_ Engulfed ill heaven's abyss Is the cry of the famished god. I sank to the ground from faintness, My day of utter starvation; 5 Was rescued, revived, by your love: Ours a contest of tears sympathetic-- Let us pour out together our tears. The Hawaiian thought it not undignified to express sympathy (_aloha-ino_) with tears. [Page 244] XXXVI.--THE HULA HOO-NA-NÁ The hula _hoo-na-ná_--to quiet, amuse--was an informal dance, such as was performed without the usual restrictions of tabu that hedged about the set dances of the halau. The occasion of an outdoor festival, an _ahaaina_ or _luau_, was made the opportunity for the exhibition of this dance. It seems to have been an expression of pure sportiveness and mirth-making, and was therefore performed without sacrifice or religious ceremony. While the king, chiefs, and _aialo_--courtiers who ate in the king's presence--are sitting with the guests about the festal board, two or three dancers of graceful carriage make a circuit of the place, ambling, capering, gesturing as they go in time to the words of a gay song. A performance of this sort was witnessed by the author's informant in Honolulu many years ago; the occasion was the giving of a royal luau. There was no musical instrument, the performers were men, and the mele they cantillated went as follows: A pili, a pili, A pili ka'u manu Ke kepau[485] o ka ulu-laau. Poai a puni, 5 Noho ana i muli-wa'a;[486] Hoonu'u ka momona a ke alii. Eli-eli[487] ke kapu; ua noa. Noa ia wai? Noa ia ka lani. 10 Kau lilua,[488] kaohi ka maku'u E ai ana ka ai a ke alii! Hoonu'u, hoonu'u hoonu'u I ka i'a a ke alii! [Footnote 485: _Kepáu._ Gum, the bird-lime of the fowler, which was obtained from forest trees, but especially from the _ulu_, the breadfruit.] [Footnote 486: _Muli-wa'a_ (_muli_, a term applied to a younger brother). The idea involved is that of separation by an interval, as a younger brother is separated from his older brother by an interval. _Muliwai_ is an interval of water, a stream. _Wa'a_, the last part of the above compound word, literally a canoe, is here used tropically to mean the tables, or the dishes, on which the food was spread, they being long and narrow, in the shape of a canoe. The whole term, consequently, refers to the people and the table about which they are seated.] [Footnote 487: _Eli-eli._ A word that is found in ancient prayers to emphasize the word _kapu_ or the word _noa_.] [Footnote 488: _Lilua_. To stand erect and act without the restraint usually prescribed in the presence of royalty.] [Page 245] [Translation] She is limed, she is limed, My bird is limed, With the gum of the forest. We make a great circuit, 5 Outskirting the feast. You shall feast on king's bounty: No fear of the tabu, all's free. Free! and By whom? Free by the word of the king. 10 Then a free rein to mirth! Banish the kill-joy Who eats the king's dainties! Feast then till replete With the good king's meat! [Page 246] XXXVII.--THE HULA ULILI The hula _ulili_, also called by the descriptive name _kolili_--to wave or flutter, as a pennant--was a hula that was not at all times confined to the tabu restrictions of the halau. Like a truant schoolboy, it delighted to break loose from restraint and join the informal pleasurings of the people. Imagine an assembly of men and women in the picturesque illumination given by flaring kukui torches, the men on one side, the women on the other. Husbands and wives, smothering the jealousy instinctive to the human heart, are there by mutual consent--their daughters they leave at home--each one ready to play his part to the finish, with no thought of future recrimination. It was a game of love-forfeits, on the same lines as kilu and ume. Two men, armed with wands furnished with tufts of gay feathers, pass up and down the files of men and women, waving their decorated staffs, ever and anon indicating with a touch of the wand persons of the opposite sex, who under the rules must pay the forfeit demanded of them. The kissing, of course, goes by favor. The wand-bearers, as they move along, troll an amorous ditty: _Oli_ Kii na ka ipo ... Mahele-liele i ka la o Kona![489] O Kona, kai a ke Akua.[490] Elua la, huli ka Wai-opua,[491] 5 Nete i ke kula, Leha iluna o Wai-aloha[492] Kani ka aka a ka ua i ka laau, Hoolaau ana i ke aloha ilaila. Pili la, a pili i ka'u manu-- 10 O pili o ka La-hiki-ola. Ola ke kini o-lalo. Hana i ka mea he ipo. A hui e hui la! Hui Koolau-wahine[493] o Pua-ke-i![494] [Footnote 489: _La o Kona_. A day of Kona, i.e., of fine weather.] [Footnote 490: _Kai a ke Akua_. Sea of the gods, because calm.] [Footnote 491: _Wai-opua_. A wind which changed its direction after blowing for a few days from one quarter.] [Footnote 492: _Wai-aloha_. The name of a hill. In the translation the author has followed its meaning ("water of love").] [Footnote 493: _Koolau-wahine_. The name of a refreshing wind, often mentioned in Hawaiian poetry; here used as a symbol of female affection.] [Footnote 494: _Pua-ke-i_. The name of a sharp, bracing wind felt on the windward side of Molokai; used here apparently as a symbol of strong masculine passion.] [Page 247] [Translation] _Song_ A search for a sweetheart... Sport for a Kona day! Kona, calm sea of the gods. Two days the wind surges; 5 Then, magic of cloud! It veers to the plain, Drinks up the water of love. How gleesome the sound Of rain on the trees, 10 A balm to love's wound! The wand touches, heart-ease! It touches my bird-- Touch of life from the sun! Brings health to the million. 15 Ho, now comes the fun! A meeting, a union-- The nymph, Koo-lau, And the hero, Ke-í. [Page 248] XXXVIII.--THE HULA O-NIU The so-called hula _o-niu_ is not to be classed with the regular dances of the halau. It was rather a popular sport, in which men and women capered about in an informal dance while the players engaged in a competitive game of top-spinning: The instrument of sport was made from the lower pointed half of an oval coconut shell, or from the corresponding part of a small gourd. The sport was conducted in the presence of a mixed gathering of people amid the enthusiasm and boisterous effervescence which betting always greatly stimulated in Hawaii. The players were divided into two sides of equal number, and each player had before him a plank, slightly hollowed in the center--like the board on which the Hawaiians pounded their poi--to be used as the bed for spinning his top. The naked hand, unaided by whip or string, was used to impart to the rude top a spinning motion and at the same time the necessary projectile force--a balancing of forces that called for nice adjustment, lest the whirling thing reel too far to one side or run wild and fly its smooth bed. Victory was declared and the wager given to the player whose top spun the longest. The feature that most interests us is the singing, or cantillation, of the oli. In a dance and game of this sort, which the author's informant witnessed at Kahuku, Oahu, in 1844, one contestant on each side, in turn, cantillated an oli during the performance of the game and the dance. _Oli_ Ke pohá, nei; u'ína la! Kani óle-oléi, hau-walaau! Ke wawa Pu'u-hina-hina;[495] Kani ka aka, he-hene na pali, 5 Na pali o Ka-iwi-ku'i.[496] Hanohano, makana i ka Wai-opua.[497] Malihini ka hale, ua hiki mai; Kani ka pahu a Lohiau, A Lohiau-ipo[498] i Haena la. 10 Enaena ke aloha, ke hiki mai; [Page 249] Auau i ka wai a Kanaloa.[499] Nana kaua ia Lima-hull,[500] e. E huli oe a loaa pono Ka ia nei o-niu. [Footnote 495: _Pu'u-hina-hina_. A precipitous place on the coast near Haena.] [Footnote 496: _Ka-iwi-ku'i_. A high cliff against which the waves dash.] [Footnote 497: _Wai-opua_. The name of a pleasant breeze.] [Footnote 498: _Lohiau-ipo_. The epithet _ipo_, sweetheart, dear one, was often affixed to the name of Lohiau, in token, no doubt, of his being distinguished as the object of Pele's passionate regard.] [Footnote 499: _Kanaloa_. There is a deep basin, of clear water, almost fluorescent in its sparkle, in one of the arched caves of Haena, which is called the water of Kanaloa--the name of the great God. This is a favorite bathing place.] [Footnote 500: Lima-huli. The name of a beautiful valley that lies back of Haena.] [Translation] Song The rustle and hum of spinning top, Wild laughter and babel of sound-- Hear the roar of the waves at Pu'u-hina! Bursts of derision echoed from cliffs, 5 The cliffs of Ka-iwi-ku'i; And the day is stirred by a breeze. The house swarms with women and men. List! the drum-beat of Lohiau, Lohiau, the lover, prince of Haena-- 10 Love glows like an oven at his coming; Then to bathe in the lake of the God. Let us look at the vale Lima-huli, look! Now turn we and study the spinning-- That trick we must catch to be winning. This fragment from antiquity, as the local coloring indicates, finds its setting at Haena, the home of the famous mythological Prince Lohiau, of whom Pele became enamored in her spirit journey. Study of the mele suggests the occasion to have been the feast that was given in celebration of Lohiau's restoration to life and health through the persevering incantations of Hiiaka, Pele's beloved sister. The feast was also Lohiau's farewell to his friends at Haena. At its conclusion Hiiaka started with her charge on the journey which ended with the tragic death of Lohiau at the brink of the volcano. Pele in her jealousy poured out her fire and consumed the man whom she had loved. [Page 250] XXXIX.--THE HULA KU'I The account of the Hawaiian hulas would be incomplete if without mention of the hula _ku'i_. This was an invention, or introduction, of the last quarter of the nineteenth century. Its formal, public, appearance dates from the coronation ceremonies of the late King Kalakaua, 1883, when it filled an important place in the programme. Of the 262 hula performances listed for exhibition, some 30 were of the hula ku'i. This is perhaps the most democratic of the hulas, and from the date' of its introduction it sprang at once into public favor. Not many years ago one could witness its extemporaneous performance by nonprofessionals at many an entertainment and festive gathering. Even the school-children took it up and might frequently be seen innocently footing its measures on the streets. (Pl. XXIV.) The steps and motions of the hula ku'i to the eyes of the author resemble those of some Spanish dances. The rhythm is in common, or double, time. One observes the following motions: _Figure A_.--1. A step obliquely forward with the left foot, arms pointing the same way, body inclining to the right. 2. The ball of the left foot (still advanced) gently pressed on the floor; the heel swings back and forth, describing an arc of some 30 or 40 degrees. 8. The left foot is set firmly in the last position, the body inclining to it as the base of support; the right foot is advanced obliquely, and 4, performs the heel-swinging motions above described, arms pointing obliquely to the right. _Figure B_.--Hands pressed to the waist, fingers directed forward, thumbs backward, elbows well away from the body; left foot advanced as in figure A, 1, body inclining to the right. 2. The left foot performs the heel-waving motions, as above. 3. Hands in same position, right foot advanced as previously described. 4. The right foot performs the swinging motions previously described--the body inclined to the left. _Figure C_.--In this figure, while the hands are pressed as before against the waist, with the elbows thrown well away from the body, the performer sways the pelvis and central axis of the trunk in a circular or elliptical orbit, a movement, which, carried to the extreme, is termed ami. There are other figures and modifications, which the ingenuity and fancy of performers have introduced into this dance; but this account must suffice. [Illustration: LADY DANCING THE HULA KU'I] [Page 251] Given a demand for a _pas seul_, some pleasing dance combining grace with dexterity, a shake of the foot, a twist of the body, and a wave of the hands, the hula ku'i filled the bill to perfection. The very fact that it belonged by name to the genus hula, giving it, as it were, the smack of forbidden fruit, only added to its attractiveness. It became all the rage among dancing folk, attaining such a vogue as almost to cause a panic among the tribunes and censors of society. Even to one who cares nothing for the hula per se, save as it might be a spectacle out of old Hawaii, or a setting for an old-time song, the innocent grace and Delsartian flexibility of this solo dance, which one can not find in its Keltic or African congeners, associate it in mind with the joy and light-heartedness of man's Arcadian period. The instruments generally used in the musical accompaniment of the hula ku'i are the guitar, the _uku-lele_,[501] the taro-patch fiddle,[501] or the mandolin; the piano also lends itself effectively for this purpose; or a combination of these may be used. The songs that are sung to this dance as a rule belong naturally to later productions of the Hawaiian muse, or to modifications of old poetical compositions. The following mele was originally a namesong (mele-inoa). It was appropriated by the late Princess Kino-iki; and by her it was passed on to Kalani-ana-ole, a fact which should not prejudice our appreciation of its beauty. _Mele_ I aloha i ke ko a ka wai, I ka i mai, e, anu kaua. Ua anu na pua o ka laina,[502] Ka wanine noho anu o ke kula. 5 A luna au a o Poli-ahu;[503] Ahu wale kai a o Wai-lua. Lua-ole ka hana a ka makani, A ke Kiu-ke'e[504] a o na pall, Pa iho i ke kai a o Puna-- 10 Ko Puna mea ma'a mau ia. Pau ai ko'u lihi hoihoi I ka wai awili me ke kai. Ke ono hou nei ku'u pu'u I ka wai hu'ihu'i o ka uka, [Page 252] 15 Wai hone i ke kumu o ka pali, I malu i ka lau kui-kui.[505] Ke kuhi nei au a he pono Ka ilima lei a ke aloha, Au i kau nui aku ai, 20 I ka nani oi a oia pua. [Footnote 501: The _uku-lele_ and the _taro-patch fiddle_ are stringed instruments resembling in general appearance the fiddle. They seem to have been introduced into these islands by the Portuguese immigrants who have come in within the last twenty-five years. As with the guitar, the four strings of the uku-lele or the five strings of the taro-patch fiddle are plucked with the finger or thumb.] [Footnote 502: _Na pua o ka laina_. The intent of this expression, which seems to have an erotic meaning, may perhaps be inferred from its literal rendering in the translation. It requires a tropical imagination to follow a Hawaiian poem.] [Footnote 503: _Poli-ahu_. A place or region on Mauna-kea.] [Footnote 504: _Kiu-ke'e_. The name of a wind felt at Nawiliwili, Kauai. The local names for winds differed on the various islands and were multiplied almost without measure: as given in the mythical story of Kama-pua'a, or in the semihistoric tale of Kú-a-Paka'a, they taxed the memories of raconteurs.] [Footnote 505: _Kui-kui._ The older name-form of the tree (Aleurites triloba), popularly known by some as the candle-nut tree, from the fact that its oily nuts were used in making torches. _Kukui_, or _tutui_, is the name now applied to the tree, also to a torch or lamp. The Samoan language still retains the archaic name _tuitui_. This is one of the few instances in which the original etymology of a word is retained in Hawaiian poetry.] [Translation] _Song_ How pleasing, when borne by the tide, One says, you and I are a-cold. The buds of the center are chilled Of the woman who shivers on shore. 5 I stood on the height Poli-ahu; The ocean enrobed Wai-lua. Ah, strange are the pranks of the wind, The Kiu-ké'e wind of the pali! It smites now the ocean at Puna-- 10 That's always the fashion at Puna. Gone, gone is the last of my love, At this mixture of brine in my drink! My mouth is a-thirst for a draught Of the cold mountain-water, 15 That plays at the foot of the cliff, In the shade of the kui-kui tree. I thought our love-flower, ilima-- Oft worn as a garland by you-- Still held its color most true. 20 You'd exchange its beauty for rue! _Mele_ Kaulana mai nei Pua Lanakila; Olali oe o ke aupuni hui, Nana i koké áku ke kahua, Na ale o ka Pakipika. 5 Lilo i mea ole na enemi; Puuwai hao-kila, he manao paa; Na ka nupepa la i hoike mai. Ua kau Lanakila i ka hanohano, O ka u'i mapela la o Aina-hau; 10 O ko'u hoa ia la e pili ai-- I hoa kaaua i ka puuwai, I na kohi kelekele i ka Pu'ukolu. Ina ilaila Pua Komela, Ka u'i kaulana o Aina-pua! 15 O ka pua o ka Lehua me ka Ilima I lei kahiko no ko'u kino, Ka Palai lau-lii me ka Maile, Ke ala e hoene i kou poli. [Page 253] [Translation] _Song_ Fame trumpets your conquests each day, Brave Lily Victoria! Your scepter finds new hearts to sway, Subdues the Pacific's wild waves, 5 Your foes are left stranded ashore, Firm heart as of steel! Dame Rumor tells us with glee Your fortunes wax evermore, Beauty of Aina-hau, 10 Comrade dear to my heart. And what of the hyacinth maid, Nymph of the Flowery Land? I choose the lehua, ilima, As my wreath and emblem of love, 15 The small-leafed fern and the maile-- What fragrance exhales from thy breast! The story that might explain this modern lyric belongs to the gossip of half a century ago. The action hinges about one who is styled Pua Lanakila--literally Flower of Victory. Now there is no flower, indigenous or imported, known by this name to the Hawaiians. It is an allegorical invention of the poet. A study of the name and of its interpretation, Victory, at once suggested to me the probability that it was meant for the Princess Victoria Kamamalu. As I interpret the story, the lover seems at first to be in a condition of unstable equilibrium, but finally concludes to cleave to the flowers of the soil, the _lehua_ and the _ilima_ (verse 15), the _palai_ and the _maile_ (verse 17), the meaning of which is clear. [Page 254] XL.--THE OLI The Hawaiian word _mele_ included all forms of poetical composition. The fact that the mele, in whatever form, was intended for cantillation, or some sort of rhythmical utterance addressed to the ear, has given to this word in modern times a special meaning that covers the idea of song or of singing, thus making it overlap ambiguously into the territory that more properly belongs to the word _oli_. The oli was in strict sense the lyric utterance of the Hawaiians. In its most familiar form the Hawaiians--many of whom possessed the gift of improvisation in a remarkable degree--used the oli not only for the songful expression of joy and affection, but as the vehicle of humorous or sarcastic narrative in the entertainment of their comrades. The traveler, as he trudged along under his swaying burden, or as he rested by the wayside, would solace himself and his companions with a pensive improvisation in the form of an oli. Or, sitting about the camp-fire of an evening, without the consolation of the social pipe or bowl, the people of the olden time would keep warm the fire of good-fellowship and cheer by the sing-song chanting of the oli, in which the extemporaneous bard recounted the events of the day and won the laughter and applause of his audience by witty, ofttimes exaggerated, allusions to many a humorous incident that had marked the journey. If a traveler, not knowing the language of the country, noticed his Hawaiian guide and baggage-carriers indulging in mirth while listening to an oli by one of their number, he would probably be right in suspecting himself to be the innocent butt of their merriment. The lover poured into the ears of his mistress his gentle fancies: the mother stilled her child with some bizarre allegory as she rocked it in her arms; the bard favored by royalty--the poet laureate--amused the idle moments of his chief with some witty improvisation; the alii himself, gifted with the poetic fire, would air his humor or his didactic comments in rhythmic shape--all in the form of the oli. The dividing line, then, between the oli and those other weightier forms of the mele, the _inoa_, the _kanikau_ (threnody), the _pule_, and that unnamed variety of mele in which the poet dealt with historic or mythologic subjects, is to be found almost wholly in the mood of the singer. In truth, the Hawaiians not unfrequently applied the term pule to compositions which we moderns find it hard to bring within our definitions of prayer. For to our understanding the Hawaiian pule often contains neither petition, nor entreaty, nor aspiration, as we measure such things. [Page 255] The oli from, its very name (_oli-oli_, joyful) conveys the notion of gladness, and therefore of song. It does not often run to such length as the more formal varieties of the mele; it is more likely to be pitched to the key of lyric and unconventional delight, and, as it seems to the writer, more often than other forms attains a gratifying unity by reason of closer adherence to some central thought or mood; albeit, when not so labeled, one might well be at a loss whether in any given case he should term the composition mele or oli. It may not be entirely without significance that the first and second examples here given come from Kauai, the island which most vividly has retained a memory of the southern lands that were the homes of the people until they came as emigrants to Hawaii. The story on which this song is founded relates that the comely Pamaho'a was so fond of her husband during his life that at his death she was unwilling to part with his bones. Having cleaned and wrapped them in a bundle, she carried them with her wherever she went. In the indiscretion begotten of her ill-balanced state of mind she committed the mortal offense of entering the royal residence while thus encumbered, where was Kaahumanu, favorite wife of Kamehameha I. The king detailed two constables (_ilamuku_) to remove the woman and put her to death. When they had reached a safe distance, moved with pity, the men said: "Our orders were to slay; but what hinders you to escape?" The woman took the hint and fled hot-foot. _Oli_ Ka wai opua-makani o Wailua,[506] I hulihia e ke kai; Awahia ka lau hau, Ai pála-ka-há, ka ai o Maká'u-kiu. 5 He kin ka pua kukui, He elele hooholo na ke Koolau;[507] Ke kipaku mai la i ka wa'a--[508] "E holo oe!" Holo newa ka lau maia me ka pua hau, 10 I pili aloha me ka mokila ula i ka wai; Maalo pulelo i ka wai o Malu-aka. He aka kaua makani kaili-hoa; Kaili ino ka lau Malua-kele, Lalau, hopu hewa i ka hoa kanáka;[509] [Page 256] 15 Koe a kau me ka manao iloko. Ke apo wale la no i ke one, I ka uwe wale iho no i Mo'o-mo'o-iki,[510] e! He ike moolelo na ke kuhi wale, Aole ma ka waha mai o kánaka, 20 Hewa, pono ai la hoi au, e ka hoa; Nou ka ke aloha, I lua-ai-ele[511] ai i o, i anei; Ua kuewa i ke ala me ka wai-maka. Aohe wa, ua uku i kou hale-- 25 Hewa au, e! [Footnote 506: The scene is laid in the region about the _Wailua_, a river on Kauai. This stream, tossed with waves driven up from the sea, represents figuratively the disturbance of the woman's mind at the coming of the officers.] [Footnote 507: _Koolau_. The name of a wind; stands for the messengers of the king, whose instructions were to expel (_kipaku_, verse 7) and then to slay.] [Footnote 508: _Wa'a_. Literally canoe; stands for the woman herself.] [Footnote 509: _Hoa kanáka_. Human companion; is an allusion to the bundle of her husband's bones which she carries with her, but which are torn away and lost in the flood.] [Footnote 510: _Mo'o-mo'o-iki_. A land at Wailua, Kauai.] [Footnote 511: _Lua-ai-ele_. To carry about with one a sorrow.] [Translation] _Song_ The wind-beaten stream of Wailua Is tossed into waves from the sea; Salt-drenched are the leaves of the hau, The stalks of the taro all rotted-- 5 'Twas the crop of Maka'u-kiu, The flowers of kukui are a telltale, A messenger sped by the gale To warn the canoe to depart. Pray you depart! 10 Hot-foot, she's off with her pack-- A bundle red-stained with the mud-- And ghost-swift she breasts Malu-aka. Quest follows like smoke--lost is her companion; Fierce the wind plucks at the leaves, 15 Grabs--by mistake--her burden, the man. Despairing, she falls to the earth, And, hugging the hillock of sand, Sobs out her soul on the beach Mo-mo-iki. A tale this wrung from my heart, 20 Not told by the tongue of man. Wrong! yet right, was I, my friend; My love after all was for you, While I lived a vagabond life there and here, Sowing my vagrom tears in all roads-- 25 Prompt my payment of debt to your house-- Yes, truly, I'm wrong! [Page 257] XLI.--THE WATER OF KANE If one were asked what, to the English-speaking mind, constitutes the most representative romantico-mystical aspiration that has been embodied in song and story, doubtless he would be compelled to answer the legend and myth of the Holy Grail. To the Hawaiian mind the aspiration and conception that most nearly approximates to this is that embodied in the words placed at the head of this chapter. The Water of Kane. One finds suggestions and hints of this conception in many passages of Hawaiian song and story, sometimes a phosphorescent flash, answering to the dip of the poet's blade, sometimes crystallized into a set form; but nowhere else than in the following mele have I found this jewel deliberately wrought into shape, faceted, and fixed in a distinct form of speech. This mele comes from Kauai, the island which more than any other of the Hawaiian group retains a tight hold on the mystical and imaginative features that mark the mythology of Polynesia; the island also which less than any other of the group was dazzled by the glamour of royalty and enslaved by the theory of the divine birth of kings. _He Mele no Kane_ He ú-i, he ninau: He ú-i aku ana au ia oe, Aia i-héa ka wai a Kane? Ala i ka hikina a ka La, 5 Puka i Hae-hae;[512] Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane. E ú-i aku ana au ia oe, Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane? Aia i Kau-lana-ka-la,[513] 10 I ka pae opua i ke kai,[514] Ea mai ana ma Nihoa,[515] [Page 258] Ma ka mole mai o Lehua; Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane. E ú-i aku ana au ia oe, 15 Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane? Aia i ke kua-hiwi, i ke kua-lono, I ke awáwa, i ke kaha-wai; Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane. E ú-i aku ana au ia oe, 20 Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane? Aia i-kai, i ka moana, I ke Kua-lau, i ke anuenue, I ka punohu,[516] i ka ua-koko,[517] I ka alewa-lewa; 25 Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane. E ú-i aku ana au ia oe, Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane? Aia i-luna ka Wai a Kane, I ke ouli, i ke ao eleele, 30 I ke ao pano-pano, I ke ao popolo-hua mea a Kane la, e! Aia i-laila ka Wai a Kane. E ú-i aku ana au ia oe, Aia i-hea ka Wai a Kane? 35 Aia i-lalo, i ka honua, i ka Wai hu, I ka wai kau a Kane me Kanaloa--[518] He wai-puna, he wai e inu, He wai e mana, he wai e ola. E ola no, e-a! [Footnote 512: _Hae-hae_. Heaven's eastern gate; the portal in the solid walls that supported the heavenly dome, through which the sun entered in the morning.] [Footnote 513: _Kau-lana-ka-la_. When the setting sun, perhaps by an optical illusion drawn out into a boatlike form, appeared to be floating on the surface of the ocean, the Hawaiians named the phenomenon _Kau-lana-ka-la_--the floating of the sun. Their fondness for personification showed itself in the final conversion of this phrase into something like a proper name, which they applied to the locality of the phenomenon.] [Footnote 514: _Pae opua i ke kai_. Another instance of name-giving, applied to the bright clouds that seem to rest on the horizon, especially to the west.] [Footnote 515: _Nihoa_ (Bird island). This small rock to the northwest of Kauai, though far below the horizon, is here spoken of as if it were in sight.] [Footnote 516: _Punohu_ A red luminous cloud, or a halo, regarded as an omen portending some sacred and important event.] [Footnote 517: _Ua-koko_. Literally bloody rain, a term applied to a rainbow when lying near the ground, or to a freshet-stream swollen with the red muddy water from the wash of the hillsides. These were important omens, claimed as marking the birth of tabu chiefs.] [Footnote 518: _Wai kau a Kane me Kanaloa_. Once when Kane and Kanaloa were journeying together Kanaloa complained of thirst. Kane thrust his staff into the pali near at hand, and out flowed a stream of pure water that has continued to the present day. The place is at Keanae, Maui.] [Translation] _The Water of Kane_ A query, a question, I put to you: Where is the water of Kane? At the Eastern Gate 5 Where the Sun comes in at Hae-hae; There is the water of Kane. A question I ask of you: Where is the water of Kane? Out there with the floating Sun, [Page 259] 10 Where cloud-forms rest on Ocean's breast, Uplifting their forms at Nihoa, This side the base of Lehua; There is the water of Kane. One question I put to you: 15 Where is the water of Kane? Yonder on mountain peak, On the ridges steep, In the valleys deep, Where the rivers sweep; 20 There is the water of Kane. This question I ask of you: Where, pray, is the water of Kane? Yonder, at sea, on the ocean, In the driving rain, 25 In the heavenly bow, In the piled-up mist-wraith, In the blood-red rainfall, In the ghost-pale cloud-form; There is the water of Kane. 30 One question I put to you: Where, where is the water of Kane? Up on high is the water of Kane, In the heavenly blue, In the black piled cloud, 35 In the black-black cloud, In the black-mottled sacred cloud of the gods; There is the water of Kane. One question I ask of you: Where flows the water of Kane? 10 Deep in the ground, in the gushing spring, In the ducts of Kane and Loa, A well-spring of water, to quaff, A water of magic power-- The water of life! 45 Life! O give us this life! [Page 260] XLII.--GENERAL REVIEW In this preliminary excursion into the wilderness of Hawaiian literature we have covered but a small part of the field; we have reached no definite boundaries; followed no stream to its fountain head; gained no high point of vantage, from which to survey the whole. It was indeed outside the purpose of this book to make a delimitation of the whole field of Hawaiian literature and to mark out its relations to the formulated thoughts of the world. Certain provisional conclusions, however, are clearly indicated: that this unwritten speech-literature is but a peninsula, a semidetached, outlying division of the Polynesian, with which it has much in common, the whole running back through the same lines of ancestry to the people of Asia. There still lurk in the subliminal consciousness of the race, as it were, vague memories of things that long ago passed from sight and knowledge. Such, for instance, was the _mo'o_; a word that to the Hawaiian meant a nondescript reptile, which his imagination vaguely pictured, sometimes as a dragonlike monster belching fire like a chimera of mythology, or swimming the ocean like a sea-serpent, or multiplied into a manifold pestilential swarm infesting the wilderness, conceived of as gifted with superhuman powers and always as the malignant foe of mankind, Now the only Hawaiian representatives of the reptilian class were two species of harmless lizards, so that it is not conceivable that the Hawaiian notion of a mo'o was derived from objects present in his island home. The word _mo'o_ may have been a coinage of the Hawaiian speechcenter, but the thing it stood for must have been an actual existence, like the python and cobra of India, or the pterodactyl of a past geologic period. May we not think of it as an ancestral memory, an impress, of Asiatic sights and experiences? In this connection, it will not, perhaps, lead us too far afield, to remark that in the Hawaiian speech we find the chisel-marks of Hindu and of Aryan scoring deep-graven. For instance, the Hawaiian, word _pali_, cliff or precipice, is the very word that Young-husband--following, no doubt, the native speech of the region, the Pamirs--applies to the mountain-walls that buttress off Tibet and the central plateaus of Asia from northern India. Again the Hawaiian word _mele_, which we have used so often in these chapters as to make it seem almost like a household word, corresponds in form, in sound, and in meaning to the Greek. [Greek: melos: [Page 261] ta melê], lyric poetry (Liddell and Scott). Again, take the Hawaiian word _i'a_, fish--Maori, _ika_; Malay, _ikan_; Java, _iwa_; Bouton, _ikani_ (Edward Tregear: The Maori-Polynesian Comparative Dictionary). Do not these words form a chain that links the Hawaiian form to the [Greek: ichthus] of classic Greece? The subject is fascinating, but it would soon lead us astray. These examples must suffice. If we can not give a full account of the tangled woodland of Hawaiian literature, it is something to be able to report on its fruits and the manner of men and beasts that dwelt therein. Are its fruits good for food, or does the land we have explored bring forth only poisonous reptiles and the deadly upas? Is it a land in which the very principles of art and of human nature are turned upside down? Its language the babble of Bander-log? This excursion into the jungle of Hawaiian literature should at least impress us with the oneness of humanity; that its roots and springs of action, and ours, draw their sustenance from one and the same primeval mold; that, however far back one may travel, he will never come to a point where he can say this is "common or unclean;" so that he may without defilement "kill and eat" of what the jungle provides. The wonder is that they in Hawaii of the centuries past, shut off by vast spaces of sea and land from our world, yet accomplished so much. Test the ancient Hawaiians by our own weights and measures. The result will not be to their discredit. In practical science, in domestic arts, in religion, in morals, in the raw material of literature, even in the finished article--though, unwritten--the showing would not be such as to give the superior race cause for self-gratulation. Another lesson--a corollary to the above--is the debt of recognition we owe to the virtues and essential qualities of untutored human nature itself. Imagine a portion of our own race cut off from the thought-currents of the great world and stranded on the island-specks of the great ocean, as the Polynesians have been for a period of centuries that would count back to the times of William the Conqueror or Charlemagne, with only such outfit of the world's goods as might survive a 3,000-mile voyage in frail canoes, reenforced by such flotsam of the world's metallic stores as the tides of ocean might chance to bring them--and, with such limited capital to start with in life, what, should we judge, would have been the outcome of the experiment in religion, in morals, in art, in mechanics, in civilization, or in the production of materials for literature, as compared with what the white man found in Hawaii at its discovery in the last quarter of the eighteenth century? It were well to come to the study of primitive and savage people, of nature-folk, with a mind purged of the thanks-to-the-goodness-and-the-grace spirit. [Page 262] It will not do for us to brush aside contemptuously the notions held by the Hawaiians in religion, cosmogony, and mythology as mere heathen superstitions. If they were heathen, there was nothing else for them to be. But even the heathen can claim the right to be judged by their deeds, not by their creeds. Measured by this standard, the average heathen would not make a bad showing in comparison with the average denizen of Christian lands. As to beliefs, how much more defensible were the superstitions of our own race two or three centuries ago, or of to-day, than those of the Hawaiians? How much less absurd and illogical were our notions of cosmogony, of natural history; how much less beneficent, humane, lovable the theology of the pagan Hawaiians than of our Christian ancestors a few centuries ago if looked at from an ethical or practical point of view. At the worst, the Hawaiian sacrificed the enemy he took in battle on the altar of his gods; the Christian put to death with exquisite torture those who disagreed with him in points of doctrine. And when it comes to morals, have not the heathen time and again demonstrated their ability to give lessons in self-restraint to their Christian invaders? It is a matter of no small importance in the rating of a people to take account of their disposition toward nature. If there has been a failure to appreciate truly the mental attitude of the "savage," and especially of the Polynesian savage, the Hawaiian, toward the book of truth that was open to him in nature, it is always in order to correct it. That such a mistake has been made needs no further proof than the perusal of the following passage in a book entitled "History of the Sandwich Islands:" To the heathen the book of nature is a sealed book. Where the word of God is not, the works of God fail either to excite admiration or to impart instruction. The Sandwich Islands present some of the sublimest scenery on earth, but to an ignorant native--to the great mass of the people in entire heathenism--it has no meaning. As one crested billow after another of the heaving ocean rolls in and dashes upon the unyielding rocks of an iron-bound coast, which seems to say, "Hitherto shalt thou come and no farther," the low-minded heathen is merely thinking of the shellfish on the shore. As he looks up to the everlasting mountains, girt with clouds and capped with snow, he betrays no emotion. As he climbs a towering cliff, looks down a yawning precipice, or abroad upon a forest of deep ravines, immense rocks, and spiral mountains thrown together in the utmost wildness and confusion by the might of God's volcanoes, he is only thinking of some roots in the wilderness that may be good for food. There is hardly a poem in this volume that does not show the utter falsity of this view. The writer of the words quoted above, now in his grave for more than sixty years, was a man for whose purity and moral character one must entertain the highest esteem. He enjoyed the very best opportunity to study the minds of the "heathen" about him, to discern their [Page 263] thoughts, to learn at first hand their emotions toward the natural world, whether of admiration, awe, reverence, or whether their attitude was that of blank indifference and absorption in selfish things. But he utterly failed to penetrate the mystery, the "truth and poetry," of the Hawaiian mind and heart. Was it because he was tied to a false theology and a false theory of human nature? We are not called upon to answer this question. Let others say what was wrong in his standpoint. The object of this book is not controversial; but when a palpable injustice has been done, and is persisted in by people of the purest motives, as to the thoughts, emotions, and mental operations of the "savage," and as to the finer workings within that constitute the furniture and sanctuary of heart and soul, it is imperative to correct so grave a mistake; and we may be sure that he whose words have just been quoted, were he living today, would acknowledge his error. Though it is not the purpose of these pages to set forth in order a treatise on the human nature of the "savage," or to make unneeded apology for the primitive and uncultured races of mankind in general, or for the Hawaiian in particular, yet it is no small satisfaction to be able to set in array evidence from the life and thoughts of the savages themselves that shall at least have a modifying influence upon our views on these points. The poetry of ancient Hawaii evinces a deep and genuine love of nature, and a minute, affectionate, and untiring observation of her moods, which it would be hard to find surpassed in any literature. Her poets never tired of depicting nature; sometimes, indeed, their art seems heaven-born. The mystery, beauty, and magnificence of the island world appealed profoundly to their souls; in them the ancient Hawaiian found the image of man the embodiment of Deity; and their myriad moods and phases were for him an inexhaustible spring of joy, refreshment, and delight. GLOSSARY The study of Hawaiian pronunciation is mainly a study of vowel sounds and of accent. Each written vowel represents at least two related sounds. A (_ah_) has the Italian sound found in f_a_ther, as in h_a_-le or in L_a_-ka; also a short sound like that of a in li_a_ble, as in ke-_a_-ke-_a_, to contradict, or in _a_-ha, an assembly. E (_a_) has the sound of long a in f_a_te, or of e in pr_e_y, without the i-glide that follows, as in the first syllable of P_é_-le, or of m_é_-a, a thing; also the short sound of e in n_e_t, as in _é_-ha, hurt, or in p_é_a, a sail. I (_ee_) has the long sound of i in p_i_que, or in pol_i_ce, as in _i_-li, skin, or in h_í_-la-h_í_-la, shame; also the short sound of i in h_i_ll, as in l_í_-hi, border, and in _í_-ki, small. O (_oh_) has the long sound of o in n_o_te or in _o_ld, without the u-glide, as in l_ó_-a, long, or as in the first syllable of L_ó_-no; also a short sound, which approximates to that sometimes erroneously given to the vowel in c_o_at, as in p_ó_-po, rotten, or as in l_ó_-ko, a lake. U (_oo_) has the long sound of u in r_u_le, as in h_ú_-la, to dance; and a short sound approximating to that of u in f_u_ll, as in m_ú_-ku, cut off. Every Hawaiian syllable ends in a vowel. No attempt has been made to indicate these differences of vowel sound. The only diacritical marks here employed are the acute accent for stressed syllables and the apostrophe between two vowels to indicate the glottic closure or interruption of sound (improperly sometimes called a guttural) that prevents the two from coalescing. In the seven diphthongs _ae_, _ai_, _ao_, _au_, _ei_, _ia_, and _ua_ a delicate ear will not fail to detect a coalescence of at least two sounds, thus proving them not to be mere digraphs. In animated description or pathetic narrative, or in the effort to convey the idea of length, or height, or depth, or immensity, the Hawaiian had a way of prolonging the vowel sounds of a word, as if by so doing he could intimate the amplitude of his thought. The letter w (_way_) represents two sounds, corresponding to our w and our v. At the beginning of a word it has the sound of w (_way_), retaining this even when the word has become compounded. This is illustrated in _Wái_-a-lú-a (geographical name), and _w_á-ha mouth. In the middle of a word, or after the first syllable, it almost always has the sound of v (_vay_), as in hé-_w_a (wrong), and in E-_w_á (geographical name). In há-_w_a-_w_á (awkward), the compound word ha-_w_ái (water-pipe), and several others the w takes the _way_ sound. The great majority of Hawaiian words are accented on the penult, and in simple words of four or more syllables there is, as a rule, an accent on the fourth and on the sixth syllables, counting back from the final syllable, as in lá-na-kí-la (victorious) and as in hó-o-kó-lo-kó-lo (to try at law). _Aha_, (á-ha)--a braided cord of sinet; an assembly; a prayer or religious service (note a, p. 20). _Ahaaina_ (á-ha-ái-na)--a feast. _Ai_ (ai, as in aisle)--vegetable food; to eat; an event in a game or contest (p. 93). _Ai-á-lo_ (to eat in the presence of)--the persons privileged to eat at an alii's table. _Aiha'a_ (ai-ha'a):--a strained, bombastic, guttural tone of voice in reciting a mele, in contrast to the style termed _ko'i-honua_ (pp. 89, 90). _Ailolo_ (ai-ló-lo=to eat brains)--a critical, ceremonial sacrifice, the conditions of which must be met before a novitiate can be admitted as a practitioner of the hula as well as of other skilled professions (pp. 15, 31, 34). _Aina_ (aí-na)--the land; a meal (of food). _Alii_ (a-li'i)--a chief; a person of rank; a king. _Aloha_ (a-ló-ha)--goodwill; affection; love; a word of salutation. _Ami_ (á-mi)--to bend; a bodily motion used in the hula (note, p. 202). _Anuenue_ (a-nú-e-nú-e)--a rainbow; a waterfall in Hilo (p. 61, verse 13). _Ao_ (á-o)--dawn; daytime; the world; a cloud (p. 196, verse 7). _Aumakua_ (aú-ma-kú-a)--an ancestral god (p. 23). _Awa_ (á-va)--bitter; sour; the soporific root of the Piper methysticum (p. 130). _Ekaha_ (e-káha)--the nidus fern, by the Hawaiians sometimes called _ka hoe a Mawi_, Mawi's paddle, from the shape of its leaves (p. 19). _Haena_ (Ha-é-na)--a village on the windward coast of Kauai, the home of Lohiau, for whom Pele conceived a passion in her dreams (p. 186). _Hala_ (há-la)--a sin; a variety of the "screw-pine" (Pandanus odoratissimus, Hillebrand). Its drupe was used in decoration, its leaves were braided into mats, hats, bags, etc. _Halapepe_ (há-la-pé-pe)--a tree used in decorating the kuahu (Dracæna aurea, Hillebrand) (p. 24). _Halau_ (ha-láu--made of leaves)--a canoe-shed; a hall consecrated to the hula; a sort of school of manual arts or the art of combat (p. 14). _Hale_ (há-le)--a house. _Hanai-kuahu_ (ha-nái-ku-á-hu--altarfeeder)--the daily renewal of the offerings laid on the kuahu; the officer who performed this work (p. 29). _Hanohano_ (há-no-há-no)--having dignity and wealth. _Hau_ (how)--a tree whose light, tough wood, strong fibrous bark, and mucilaginous flowers have many uses (Hibiscus tiliaceus). _Haumea_ (Hau-mé-a)--a mythological character, the same as Papa (note c, p. 126). _Heiau_ (hei-aú)--a temple. _Hiiaka_, (Hi'i-á-ka)--the youngest sister of Pele (p. 186). _Hilo_ (Hí-lo)--to twist as in making string; the first day in the month when the new moon appears; a town and district in Hawaii (pp. 60, 61). _Holoku_ (hó-lo-kú)--a loose gown resembling a "Mother Hubbard," much worn by the women of Hawaii. _Hoonoa_ (ho'o-nó-a)--to remove a tabu; to make ceremonially free (p. 126). _Hooulu_ (ho'o-ú-lu)--to cause to grow; to inspire. (Verse 3, Pule Kuahu, p. 20, and verse 1, Pule Kuahu, p. 21.) _Hoopaa_ (ho'o-pá'a)--the members of a hula company who, as instrumentalists, remained stationary, not moving in the dance (p. 28). _Huikala_ (hú-i-ká-la)--to cleanse ceremonially; to pardon (p. 15). _Hula_, (hú-la), or int. _húlahúla_--to dance, to make sport, to the accompaniment of music and song. _I'a_ (i'a)--fish; a general term for animal food or whatever relish serves for the time in its place. _Ieie_ (í-e-í-e)--a tall woody climber found in the wild woods, much used in decoration (Freycinetia arnotti, p. 19). _Ilamuka_ (í-la-mú-ku)--a constable. _Ilima_ (i-lí-ma)--a woody shrub (Sida fallax, Hillebrand) whose chrome-yellow flowers were much used in making wreaths (p. 56). _Ilio_ (i-lí-o)--a dog; a variety of hula (p. 223). _Imu_ (í-mu), sometimes _umu_ (ú-mu)--a native oven, made by lining a hole in the ground and arching it over with stones (verse 3, Oli Paú, p. 51). _Inoa_ (i-nó-a)--a name. (See Mele inoa.) Ipo (í-po)--a lover; a sweetheart. Ipoipo (í-po-í-po), _hoipo_ (ho-í-po)', or _hoipoipo_ (ho-í-po-í-po)--to make love; to play the lover; sexual dalliance. _Ipu_ (í-pu)--a general name for the Cucurbitaceæ, and the dishes made from them, as well as dishes of coconut shell, wood, and stone; the drumlike musical instrument made from joining two calabashes (p. 73). _Iwa_ (í-wa, pr. í-va)--the number nine; a large black sea-bird, probably a gull (p. 76). _Kahiki_ (Ka-hí-ki)--Tahiti; any foreign country (p. 17). _Kahiko_ (ka-hí-ko)--ancient; to array; to adorn. _Kahuna_ (ka-hú-na)--a priest; a skilled craftsman. Every sort of kahuna was at bottom and in some regard a priest, his special department being indicated by a qualifying word, as _kahuna anaana_, sorcerer, _kahuna kalai wa'a_, canoe-maker. _Kai_ (pr. kye)--the ocean; salty. _I-kai_, to the ocean; _ma-kai_, at the ocean. _Kakaolelo_ (ka-ká-o-lé-lo)--one skilled in language; a rhetorician; a councilor (p. 98). _Kamapua'a_ (Ká-ma-pu-a'a)--literally the hog-child; the mythological swine-god, whose story is connected with that of Pele (p. 231). _Kanaka_, (ka-ná-ka)--a man; a commoner as opposed to the alii. _Kanaka_ (ká-na-ka), men in general; the human race. (Notice the different accents.) _Kanaenae_ (ká-nae-naé)--a propitiatory sacrifice; an intercession; a part of a prayer (pp. 16, 20). _Kanaloa_ (Ká-na-ló-a)--one of the four major gods, represented as of a dark complexion, and of a malignant disposition (p. 24). _Kane_ (Ká-ne)--male; a husband; one of the four major gods, represented as being a tall blond and of a benevolent disposition (p. 24). _Kapa_ (ká-pa)--the paper-cloth of the Polynesians, made from the fibrous bark of many plants by pounding with wooden beaters while kept moist. _Kapo_ (Ká-po)--a goddess and patron of the hula, sister of the poison-god, Kalai-pahoa, and said to be mother of Laka (pp. 25, 45). _Kapu_ (ká-pu).---a tabu; a religious prohibition (pp. 30, 57). _Kau_ (Ka-u)--"the milk;" a district on the island of Hawaii. _Kawele_ (ka-wé-le)--a manner of cantillating in a distinct and natural tone of voice; about the same as _ko'i-honua_ (p. 58). _Kihei_ (ki-héi)--a robe of kapa worn after the fashion of the Roman toga. _Kii_ (ki'i)--to fetch, to go after a thing; an image, a picture, a marionette; a Tariety of the hula (p. 91). _Kilauea_ (Ki-lau-é-a)--the great active volcano of Hawaii. _Kini_ (kí-ni)--the number 40,000; a countless number. _Kini Akua_, a host of active, often mischievous, "little" folk in human form that peopled the deep woods. They resembled our elves and brownies, and were esteemed as having godlike powers (p. 21, note; p. 24). _Kilu_ (kí-lu)--a dish made by cutting off obliquely the top of a coconut or small gourd, which was used as a sort of top in the game and dance called _kilu_. (Hula kilu, p. 235.) _Ko_--sugar-cane; performed, accomplished. With the causative prefix _ho'o_, as in _ho'oko_ (ho'o-kó), to accomplish, to carry to success (p. 30). _Ko'i_ (kó'i)--an ax, an adz; originally a stone implement. (See mele beginning _Ko'i maka nui_, p. 228.) _Ko'i honua_ (ko'i ho-nú-a)--a compound of the causative _ko_, _i_, to utter, and _honua_, the earth; to recite or cantillate in a quiet distinct tone, in distinction from the stilted bombastic manner termed ai-ha'a (p. 58). _Kokua-kumu_, (ko-kú-a-kú-mu)--the assistant or deputy who took charge of the halau in the absence of the _kumu-hula_, (p. 29). _Kolea_ (ko-lé-a)--the plover; the name of a hula (p. 219). _Kolohe_ (ko-ló-he)--mischievous; restless; lawless (note d, p. 194). _Kona_, (Kóna)--a southerly wind or storm; a district on the leeward side of many of the islands. _Koolau_ (Ko'o-láu)--leaf-compeller; the windward side of an island; the name of a wind. (_A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua_, verse 1, p. 59.) _Ku_--to stand; to rise up; to fit; a division of land; one of the four major gods who had many functions, such as Ku-pulupulu, Ku-mokuhalii, Ku-kaili-moku, etc. (Mele, _Ku e, nana e!_ p. 223.) _Kuahu_ (ku-á-hu)--an altar; a rustic stand constructed in the halau in honor of the hula gods (p. 15). _Kuhai-moana_ (Ku-hái-mo-á-na)--a shark-god (pp. 76, 77). _Ku'i_ (ku'i)--to smite; to beat; the name of a hula (p. 250). _Kukui_ (ku-kú-i)--a tree (Aleurites moluccana) from the nuts of which were made torches; a torch. (_Mahana lua na kukui a Lanikaula_, p. 130, note c.) _Kumu-hula_ (kú-mu húla)--a teacher and leader of the hula. _Kupee_ (ku-pe'e)--a bracelet; an anklet (Mele Kupe'e, p. 49.) _Kupua_ (ku-pú-a)--a superhuman being; a wonder-worker; a wizard. _Ku-pulupulu_ (Kú-pú-lu-pú-lú)--Ku the hairy; one of the forms of god Ku, propitiated by canoe-makers and hula folk (p. 24). _Laa_ (Lá'a)--consecrated; holy; devoted. _Laa-mai-Kahiki_--A prince who flourished some six or seven centuries ago and voyaged to Kahiki and back. He was an ardent patron of the hula (p. 103). _Lama_ (lá-ma)--a torch; a beautiful tree (Maba sandwicensis, Hillebrand) having fine-grained whitish wood that was much used for sacred purposes (p. 23). _Lanai_ (la-nái)--a shed or veranda; an open part of a house covered only by a roof. _Lanai_ (La-na'i)--the small island lying southwest of Maui. _Lani_ (lá-ni)--the sky; the heaven or the heavens; a prince or king; heaven-born (pp. 81, 82). _Lehua_, (le-hú-a)--a forest tree (Metrosideros polymorpha) whose beautiful scarlet or salmon-colored flowers were much used in decoration (Pule Hoo-noa, p. 126). _Lei_ (lei: both vowels are sounded, the _i_ slightly)--a wreath of flowers, of leaves, feathers, beads, or shells (p. 56). _Liloa_ (Li-ló-a)--an ancient king of Hawaii, the father of Umi (p. 131). _Lohiau_ (Ló-hi-áu)--the prince of Haena, with whom Pele became enamored in her dreams (p. 186). _Lolo_ (ló-lo)--the brain (p. 34). _Lono_ (Ló-no)--one of the four major gods of Hawaii (p. 24). _Luau_ (lu-aú)--greens made by cooking young taro leaves; in modern times a term applied to a Hawaiian feast. _Mahele_ (ma-hé-le)--to divide; a division of a mele; a canto; a part of a song-service (p. 58). _Mahiole_ (má-hi-ó-le)--a helmet or war-cap, a style of hair-cutting in imitation of the same (p. 91). _Mahuna_ (ma-hú-na)--a small particle; a fine scale; a variety of delicate kapa; the desquamation of the skin resulting from habitual awa-drinking. _Makalii_ (Má-ka-li'i)--small eyes; small, fine; the Pleiades (p. 216 and note on p. 218). _Malo_ (má-lo)--a loin-cloth worn especially by men. (Verses 3, 4, 5, 6 of mele on p. 36). _Mano_ (ma-nó)--a shark; a variety of hula (p. 221). _Mauna_ (máu-na)--a mountain. A word possibly of Spanish origin. _Mele_ (mé-le)--a poem; a song; to chant; to sing. _Mele inoa_--a name-song; a eulogy (pp. 27, 37). _Mele kahea_ (ka-héa = to call)--a password by which one gained admission to the halau (pp. 38, 41). _Moo_ (mó'o)--a reptile; a dragon; a mythologic monster (p. 260). _Muumuu_ (mu'u-mu'u)--an under garment worn by women; a shift; a chemise; a person maimed of hand or foot; the name of a hula (p. 212). _Naulu_ (náu-lu)--name of the seabreeze at Waimea, Kauai. _Ua naulu_ = a heavy local rain (pp. 110, 112). _Noa_ (nó-a)--ceremonially free; unrestrained by tabu (p. 126). _Noni_ (no-ni)--a dye-plant (Morinda citrifolia) whose fruit was sometimes eaten. _Nuuanu_ (Nu'u-á-nu) a valley back of Honolulu that leads to the "Pali." _Ohe_ (ó-he)--bamboo; a flute; a variety of the hula (pp. 135, 145). _Ohelo_ (o-hé-lo)--an edible berry that grows at high altitudes; to reach out; to stretch; a variety of the hula (p. 233). _Ohia_ (o-hi'a)--a name in some places applied to the _lehua_ (q. v.), more generally the name of a fruit tree, the "mountain apple" (Eugenia malaccensis). _Olapa_ (o-lá-pa)--those members of a hula company who moved in the dance, as distinguished from the _hoopaa_, q. v., who sat and cantillated or played on some instrument (p. 28). _Oli_ (ó-li)--a song; a lyric; to sing or chant (p. 254). _Olioli_--Joyful. _Olohe_ (o-ló-he)--an expert in the hula; one who has passed the _ailolo_ test and has also had much experience (p. 32). _Oo_ (o-ó)--a spade; an agricultural implement, patterned after the whale spade (p. 85); a blackbird, one of those that furnished the golden-yellow feathers for the _ahuula_, or feather cloak. _Paepae_ (pae-páe)--a prop; a support; the assistant to the _po'o-pua'a_ (p. 29). _Pahu_ (pá-hu)--a box; a drum; a landmark; to thrust, said of a spear (pp. 103, 138). _Pale_ (pá-le)--a division; a canto of a mele; a division of the song service in a hula performance (pp. 58, 89). _Pali_ (pá-li)--a precipice; a mountain wall cut up with steep ravines. (Mele on pp. 51-53, verses 4, 5, 8, 16, 17, 27, 49.) _Papa_ (pá-pa)--a board; the plane of the earth's surface; a mythological character, the wife of Wakea. _Pa-u_ (pa-ú)--a skirt; a garment worn by women reaching from the waist to about the knees (p. 50). The dress of the hula performer (p. 49), Oli Pa-ú (p. 51). _Pele_ (Pé-le)--the goddess of the volcano and of volcanoes generally, who held court at the crater of Kilauea, on Hawaii; a variety of the hula (p. 186). _Pikai_ (pi-kái)--to asperse with seawater mixed, perhaps, with turmeric, etc., as in ceremonial cleansing (p. 31). _Poo-puaa_ (po'o-pu-a'a)--Boar's head; the one selected by the pupils in a school of the hula to be their agent and mouthpiece (p. 29). _Pua'a_ (pu-a'a)--a pig; the name of a hula (p. 228). _Puka_ (pú-ka)--a hole, a doorway, to pass through. _Pule_ (pú-le)--a prayer; an incantation; to pray. _Pulou_ (pu-lo'u)--to muffle; to cover the head and face (p. 31). _Puniu_ (pu-ní-u)--a coconut shell; a small drum made from the coconut shell (p. 141); a derisive epithet for the human headpiece. _Ti_, or _ki_--a plant (Dracæna terminalis) that has large smooth green leaves used for wrapping food and in decoration. Its fleshy root becomes syrupy when cooked (p. 44). _Uka_ (ú-ka)--landward or mountainward. _Uku-lele_ (ú-ku-lé-le)--a flea; a sort of guitar introduced by the Portuguese. _Uniki_ (u-ní-ki)--the début or the first public performance of a hula actor. (Verse 21 of mele on p. 17.) _Waa_ (wá'a)--a canoe. _Wahine_ (wa-hí-ne)--a female; a woman; a wife. _Wai_--water. _Waialeale_ (Wai-á-le-á-le)--billowy water; the central mountain on the island of Kauai (p. 106). INDEX [NOTE.--All Hawaiian words, as such (except catch words), are italicized.] AALA KUPUKUPU: _mele kupe'e_ 49 A EULOGY for the princess: song for the _hula ku'i Molokai_ 209 A HAMAKUA AU: _mele_ for the _hula kaekeeke_ 122 A HILO _au, e_: _mele_ for the _hula pa'i-umauma_ 203 AIA I _Wai-pi'o Paka'alana_: old _mele_ set to music VIII 162 AI-HA'A, a style of recitation 58 AILOLO OFFERING, at graduation from the school of the _halau_ 32 eating of 34 inspection of 33 A KAUAI, _a ke olewa iluna_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 189 A KE KUAHIWI: a _kanaenae_ to Laka 16 A KOA'E-KEA: _mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 67 A KOOLAU WAU: _mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 59 A LALO _maua o Waipi'o_: _mele_ for the _hula íliíli_ 120 ALAS, alas, maimed are my hands! lament of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea 212 ALAS, I am seized by the shark: song for the _hula manó_ 222 ALAS, there's no stay to the smoke! song for the _hula Pele_ 195 ALOHA _na hale o makou: mele komo_, welcome to the _halau_ 39 ALOHA _wale oe_: song with music IX 164 ALTAR-PRAYER-- at _ailolo_ inspection: Laka sits in her shady grove 34 at _ailolo_ service: O goddess Laka! 34 in prose speech: _E ola ia'u, i ka malihini_ 46 Invoke we now the four thousand 22 Thou art Laka 42 to Kane and Kapo: Now Kane, approach 45 to Laka: Here am I, O Laka from the mountains 20 to Laka: This my wish 43 to Laka: This spoil and rape of the wildwood 19 ALTAR, visible abode of the deity 15 A MACKEREL SKY, time for foul weather: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 70 AMI, not a motion of lewd intent 210 AMUSEMENTS in Hawaii communal 13 ANKLET SONG: Fragrant the grasses 49 AOLE AU E HELE _ka li'u-la o Maná_: _mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 79 AOLE E MAO _ka ohu_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 195 AOLE I MANAO IA: _mele_ for the _hula úli-ulí_ 108 A PILI, _a pili_: _mele_ for the _hula hoonaná_ 244 A PIT LIES (far) to the East: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 86 A PLOVER at the full of the sea: song for the _hula kolea_ 220 A PUA _ka wiliwili_: a bit of folk-lore (note) 221 A PUNA AU: _mele_ for the _hula pahu_ 104 A SEARCH for a sweetheart: song for the _hula ulili_ 247 ASPERSION in ceremonial purification 15 ASSONANCE by word-repetition 227 A STORM from the sea: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 78 AT HILO I rendezvoused with the _lehua_: song for the _hula pa'i-umauma_ 203 ATTITUDE of the Hawaiian toward-- nature 262 song 159 the gods 225 AT WAILUA stands the main house-post: song for the _hula Pele_ 192 AUHEA _wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai_? _mele_ for the _hula úli-ulí_ 110 AUWE, _auwe, mo' ku'u lima_! lament of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea 212 AUWE, _pau au i ka manó nui, e_! _mele_ for the _hula manó_ 221 A ÚWEUWÉ _ke ko'e a ke kae_: _mele oli_ in the game of _kilu_ 240 AWA DEBAUCH of Kane 131 AWILIWILI _i ka hale o ka lauwili, e_: a proverbial saying (note) 53 AX OF BROADEST EDGE I'm hight: song for the _hula pua'a_ 230 BAMBOO RATTLE, the _puili_ 144 BEDECK now the board for the feast: song-prayer for the _hula Pele_ 200 BEGOTTEN were the gods of graded rank: song of cosmology (note) 196 BEHOLD KAUNÁ, that sprite of windy Ka-ú: song for the _hula Pele_ 193 BIG WITH CHILD is the princess Ku: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 81 BIT OF FOLK-LORE: _A pua ka wiliwili_ (note) 221 When flowers the _wiliwili_ (note) 221 BLACK CRABS are climbing: song for the _hula mu'umu'u_ 214 BLOOM OF LEHUA on altar piled: prayer to remove tabu at intermission 127 BLOW, BLOW, thou wind of Hilo! old sea song (note) 65 BURST OF SMOKE from the pit: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 89 CADENCE IN MUSIC 140 CALABASH HULAS 102 CALL TO THE MAN to come in: song of welcome to the _halau_ 41 CASTANETS 147 CEREMONIAL CLEANSING in the _halau_ 30 CIPHER SPEECH 97 CLOTHING OR COVERING, illustrated by gesture 178 COCONUT DRUM, _puniu_ 141 COME NOW, MANONO: song for the _hula pa'i-umauma_ 204 COME UP to the wildwood, come: song for the _hula ohe_ 136 COMRADE MINE in the robe-stripping gusts of Lalau: song for the _hula kilu_ 241 CONVENTIONAL GESTURES 180, 182 COSTUME of the _hula_ dancer 49 COURT OF THE ALII the recruiting ground for _hula_ performers 27 CULTS of the _hula_ folk--were there two? 47 DANCE, a premeditated affair in Hawaii 13 DAVID MALO, _hulas_ mentioned by 107 DEATH, represented by gesture 178 DÉBUT of a _hula_ performer 35 DÉBUT-SONG of a _hula_ performer: _Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona_ 35 DECORATIONS of the _kuahu_--the choice limited 19 DISMISSING PRAYER at intermission: Doomed sacrifice I 129 DISPENSATION granted to pupils before graduation from the _halau_ 33 DIVISIONS of _mele_ recitation in the _hula_ 58 DOOMED SACRIFICE I: dismissing prayer at intermission 129 DRESSING SONG of _hula_ girls: _Ku ka punohu ula_ 55 DRUM-- description of 140 introduced by La'a-mai-Kahiki 141 DRUM HULA, the 103 E ALA, _e Kahiki-ku_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 196 E HEA _i ke kanáka e komo maloko (mele komo)_: welcome to the _halau_ 41 E HOOPONO _ka hele_: _mele_ apropos of Nihi-aumoe 94 E HOOULU _ana i Kini o ke Akua_: altar-prayer 21 EIA KE KUKO, _ka li'a_: altar-prayer, to Laka 43 EI'AU, _e Laka mai uka_: altar-prayer 20 E IHO _ana oluna_: oracular utterance of Kapihe 99 E KAUKAU _i hale manu, e_: _mele_ for the _hula ki'i_ 99 E LAKA, E! _mele kuahu_ at _aiolo_ service 34 E LE'E KAUKAU: _mele_ for the hula _ki'i_ 98 ELEELE KAUKAU: _mele_ for the _hula ki'i_ 97 ELLIS, REV. WILLIAM-- his description of the "_hura ka-raau_" 116 his remarks about the "_hura araapapa_" 71 ELOCUTION and rhythmic accent in Hawaiian song 158 E MANONO _la, ea_: _mele_ for the _hula pa'i-umauma_ 204 ENGULFED in heaven's abyss: song for the _hula kilu_ 243 E OE MAUNA _i ka ohu_: _mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 194 E OLA IA'U, _i ka malihini_: altar-prayer, in prose speech 46 E PI' I _ka nahele_: _mele_ for the _hula ohe_ 135 E P'I _ka-wai ka nahele_: _mele_ for the _hula niau-kani_ 133 EPITHALAMIUM, _mele_ for the _hula ki'i: O Wanahili ka po loa ia Manu'a_ 100 E ULU, _e ulu_: altar-prayer to the _Kini Akua_ 46 EWA'S LAGOON is red with dirt: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 84 E WEWEHI, _ke, ke_! _mele_ for the _hula ki'i_ 94 FABLE, Hawaiian love of 111 FACIAL EXPRESSION 179 FAME TRUMPETS your conquests each day: song for the _hula ku'i_ 253 FEET AND LEGS in gesture 181 FISH-TREE, _Maka-léi_ (note) 17 FLOWERS acceptable for decoration 19 FLUCTUATING UTTERANCE in song, _i'i_ 158 FOLK-LORE, application of the term 114 FOREIGN INFLUENCE on Hawaiian music 138, 163 FRAGRANT THE GRASSES of high Kane-hoa: anklet song 49 FROM KAHIKI came the woman, Pele: song for the _hula Pele_ 188 FROM MOUNTAIN RETREAT--- song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 64 with music VII 157 GAME OF KILU 235 GAME OF NA-Ú (note) 118 GENERAL REVIEW 260 GESTURE-- illustrating an obstacle 177 illustrating movement 178 influenced by convention 180 inviting to come in 179 mimetic 178 representing a plain 178 representing clothing or covering 178 representing death 178 representing union or similarity 178 taught by the _kumu-hula_ 176 with feet and legs 181 GIRD ON THE PA-Ú: tiring song 54 GLOSSARY 266 GLOWING is Kahiki, oh! song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 75 GOD-- of health, Mauli-ola (note) 198 of mirage, Lima-loa (note) 79 GODS, attitude of the Hawaiian toward the 225 GODS of the _hula_ 23 GOURD DRUM, _ipu-hula_ 142 GOURD-RATTLE, _úli-ulí_ 144 GRADUATION from the _halau_-- _aiolo_ sacrament 32, 34 ceremonies of 31 tabu-lifting prayer: Oh wildwood bouquet, oh Laka 32 HAKI _pu o ka nahelehele_: altar-prayer to Laka 18 HAKU'I _ka uahi o ka lua: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 88 HALAU-- a school for the _hula_ 30 ceremonies of graduation from 31 decorum required in 30 description of 14 its worship contrasted with that of the _heiau_ 15 passwords to 38 purification of its site 14 rules of conduct while it is abuilding 15 worship in 42 HALAU HANALEI _i ka nini a ka ua_: an _oli_ 155 HALE-MA'UMA'U (note) 229 HALL for the _hula_. See _Halau_. HANALEI is a hall for the dance in the pouring rain: a song 155 HANAU _ke apapa nu'u_: song of cosmology (note) 196 HAUNT of white tropic bird: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 67 HAWAIIAN HARP, the _ukeké_ 147 HAWAIIAN love of fable 111 HAWAIIAN MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS 138 HAWAIIAN MUSIC displaced by foreign 138 HAWAIIAN SLANG 98 HAWAIIAN SONG-- elocution and rhythmic accent 158 characteristics 170 melody; rhythm 171 tone-intervals 158 HAWAIIAN SPEECH, music affected by peculiarities of 139 HAWAII PONOI (national hymn) with music XIV 172 HAWAII'S VERY OWN: translation of national hymn 175 HE ALA _kai olohia: mele_ for the _hula ku'i Molokai_ 207 HEAVEN MAGIC fetch a Hilo pour: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 66 HE INOA _no ka Lani: mele_ for the _hula ku'i Molokai_ 208 HE INOA _no Kamehameha_: song set to music VIII 162 HE LUA _i ka hikina: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 85 HERE AM I, O Laka from the mountains: altar-prayer to Laka 20 HE UA LA, _he ua: mele_ for the _hula kolani_ 216 HE Ú-I, _he ninau: mele_ for Kane 257 HIIAKA-- her bathing place 190 in a _kilu_ contest with Pele-ula 240 See Gods of the _hula_. HIKI MAI, _hiki mai ka La, e! mele_ for the _hula puili_ 114 HI'U-O-LANI, _kii ka ua o Hilo: mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 65 HOAEÀE EXPLAINED 163 HOE PUNA _i ka wa'a pololo a ka ino: mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 70 HOINAINAU _mea ipo: mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 71 HOLE WAIMEA _i ka ihe a ka makani: mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 68 HO! MOUNTAIN of vapor puffs: song for the _hula Pele_ 194 HOOLEHELEHE-KI'I 91 HOOPA'A, a division of the _hula_ performers 28, 57 HOOPONO OE, _he aina kai Waialua i ka hau: mele_ for _hula ala'a-papa_ 60 HOW PLEASED is the girl maimed of hand and foot: song of Hiiaka 212 HOW PLEASING, when borne by the tide: song for the _hula ku'i_ 252 HUAHUA'I: song with music X: _He aloha wau ia oe_ 166 HULA-- degeneration of 14 intermission of 126 support and organization 26 HULA ALA'A-PAPA, THE-- a religious service 11, 57 company--organization of 29 dancer's costume 49 democratic side of 26 remarks on, by Rev. W. Ellis 71 HULA HOONANÁ, THE 244 HULA ÍLI-ÍLI, THE 120 HULA ILIO, THE 223 HULA KAEKEEKE, THE 122 HULA KA-LAAU 116 its novel performance on Kauai 118 responsive chanting in 116 HULA KIELEI, THE 210 HULA KI'I, THE 91 HULA KILU, THE 235 HULA KOLANI, THE 216 HULA KOLEA, THE 219 HULA KOLILI, THE 246 HULA KU'I MOLOKAI, THE 207 HULA KU'I, THE 250 HULA KUÓLO, THE 73 HULA MANÓ, THE 221 HULA MU'UMU'U, THE 212 HULA NIAU-KANI, THE 132 HULA OHELO, THE 233 HULA OHE, THE 135 HULA O-NIU, THE 248 HULA PA-HUA, THE 183 HULA PAHU, THE 103 HULA PA-IPU, THE 73 HULA PA'I-UMAUMA, THE 202 HULA PALÁNI, THE (note) 202 HULA PELE, THE 186 HULA PERFORMANCE, influenced by instrument of accompaniment 113 HULA PERFORMERS-- classes 28, 57 début 35 physique 57 HULA PUA'A, THE 228 HULA PUILI, THE 113 HULAS-- calabash hulas 102 David Malo's list of 107 first hula 8 gods of 23 of varying dignity and rank 57 See also _Hula_ and names of various _hulas_. HULA SONGS--their source 58 HULA ULILI, THE 246 HULA ÚLI-ULÍ, THE 107 "HURA KA RAAU," description of, by Rev. William Ellis 116 I ALOHA _i ke ko a ka wai: mele_ for the _hula ku'i_ 251 I AM SMITTEN with spear of Kane: song for the _hula pa-hua_ 184 IDYL, typical Hawaiian 217 I'I-- a fluctuating utterance in song 158 its vowel repetition 159 I KAMA'AMA'A _la i ka pualei: mele pule_ for the _hula Pele_ 199 IKE IA KAUKINI: _mele_ to _Kaukini_ (note) 51 IKE IA KAUNÁ-WAHINE, _Makani Ka-u: mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 193 ILIÍLI, castanets 147 ILL OMEN, words of, in _mele inoa_ 37 IN PUNA WAS I: song for the _hula pahu_ 105 INTERMISSION OF HULA 126 IN THE UPLANDS, the darting flame-bird of La'a: password to the _halau_ 41 INVITATION to come in, by gesture 179 INVOKE WE NOW the Four Thousand: altar-prayer 22 IN WAIPI'O stands Paka'alana: name-song of Kamehameha 163 IPU HULA, gourd drum 58, 142 treatment of, in _hula pa-ipu_ and in _hula ala'a-papa_ 73 I SPURN THE THOUGHT with disdain: song for the _hula úli-ulí_ 109 IT HAS COME, it has come: song for the _hula puili_ 114 IT WAS IN HAMAKUA: song for the _hula kaekeeke_ 123 I WILL NOT CHASE the mirage of Maná: song for the _hula pa-ipu_, 80 KAEKEEKE, musical bamboo pipe, 143 KAHEA _i ka mele_, 58 KAHIKI-NUI, _auwahi ka makani: mele_ for the _hula kaekeeke_, 124 KAHIKI-NUI, land of wind-driven smoke: song for the _hula kaekeeke_, 125 KAHIPA, _na waiu olewa: mele_ for the _hula pa'i-umauma_, 205 KAHULI AKU, _kahuli mai: mele_ apropos of the tree-shell, 121 KAKUA PA-Ú, _ahu na kiképa_: tiring song, 51 KALAKALAIHI, _kaha ka La ma ke kua o Lehua: mele_ for the _hula kilu_, 238 KALAKAUA, a great name: song for the _hula ka-laau_, 117 KALALAU, _pali eku i ka makani: mele_ for the _hula ki'i_, 101 KA-LIU-WA'A (note), 230 KAMA-PUA'A, his relations with-- Kapo, 25 Pele, 231 KA MAWAE: song and music XI, 167 KAMEHAMEHA II, song composed by, 69 KA-MOHO-ALII (note), 229 KANAENAE TO LAKA: _A ke kuahiwi, i ke kualono_, 16 KANALOA. See Gods of the _hula_. KANALOA TINTS HEAVEN with a blush: song for the _hula kilu_, 242 KA NALU NUI, _a ku ka nalu mai Kona_: name-song to Naihe, 35 KANE, HIKI A'E, _he maláma ia luna_: altar-prayer to Kane and Kapo, 44 KANE is DRUNKEN with awa: song for interlude, 130 KANE'S AWA DEBAUCH, 131 KANE. See Gods of the _hula_. KAPO-- parentage and relations to the _hula_, 47 relations with Kama-pua'a, 25 See Gods of the _hula_. KAUAI, characteristics of its _hula_, 119 KAUHUA KU, _ka Lani, iloli ka moku: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_, 80 KAU KA HA-É-A, _kau o ka hana wa ele: mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_, 69 KA UKA HOLO-KIA _ahi-manu o La'a_: password to the _halau_, 41 KAULANA _mai nei Pua Lanakila: mele_ for the _hula ku'i_, 252 KAULA WEARS the ocean as a wreath: wreath-song, 56 KAULA WREATHES her brow with the ocean: song of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea, 213 KAU LILUA _i ke anu Wai-aleale: mele_ for the _hula pahu_, 105 KAUÓ PU KA IWA _kala-pahe'e: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_, 76 KA WAI _opua-makani o Wailua_: an _oli_, 255 KAWELO, a sorcerer who turned shark (note), 79 KEAAU is a long strip of wild wood: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_, 62 KEAAU SHELTERS, Waiakea lies in the calm: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_, 61 KE AMO _la ke ko'i ke Akua la i uka: mele_ for the _hula Pele_, 190 KEAWE-- a name of many personalities (note), 74 the red blush of dawn: old song (note), 74 KE LEI MAI _la o Kaula i ke kai, e-e!_-- _mele_ of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea, 212 wreath-song, 56 KE POHÁ NEI; _u'ína la: mele_ for the _hula o-niu_ 248 KI'I-KI'I 91 KI'I NA KA IPO: _mele_ for the _hula ulili_ 246 KILELEI, THE HULA 210 KILU, a game and a _hula_ 235 KILU-CONTEST of Hiiaka with Pele-ula 240 KING, CAPT. JAMES, on the music and dancing of the Hawaiians 149 KING'S WASH-TUBS 116 KINI AKUA, THE 24, 46 KO'I-HONUA, a style of recitation 58, 89 KO'I MAKA NUI: _mele oli_ for the _hula pua'a_ 228 KOLEA KAI PIHA: _mele_ for the _hula kolea_ 219 KONA KAI OPUA, _i kala i ka la'i: mele_ for the _hula ka-laau_ 117 KUAHU-SERVICE, not a rigid liturgy 21 KUAHU, THE 15, 32 KU AKU LA KEAAÚ, _lele ka makani mawaho: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 77 KUA LOLOA _Keaáu i ka nahele: mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 62 KU, A MARIONETTE 91 KU E, NANÁ E! _mele_ for the _hula ilio_ 223 KU I WAILUA _ka pou hale: mele_ for the _hula Pale_ 191 KU KA MAKAIA _a ka huaka'i moe ípo_: dismissing prayer at intermission 129 KU KA PUNOHU _ula i ka moana_: girl's dressing song 55 KUKULU O KAHIKI (note) 17 KUMU-HULA, a position open to all 15 KUMUKAHI, myth (note) 197 KUNIHI KA MAUNA _i ka la'i, e: mele kahea_, password to the _halau_ 40 KU OE KO'U WAHI _ohelo nei la, auwe, auwe! mele_ for the _hula ohelo_ 233 KU PILIKI'I _Hanalei lehua, la: mele_ for the _hula kielei_ 210 KU-PULUPULU. See Gods of the _hula_. KU. See Gods of the _hula_. KU'U HOA MAI _ka makani kuehu kapa o Kalalau: mele_ for the _hula kilu_ 240 LA'A MAI-KAHIKI-- his connection with the _hula pahu_ 103 introduces the drum, or _pahu hula_ 141 LAAU, a xylophone 144 LAKA-- a block of wood her special symbol 20, 23 adulatory prayer to 18 a friend of the Pele family 24 _aumakua_ of the _hula_ 23 compared with the gods of classic Greece 24 emanation origin 48 epithets and appellations of 24 invoked as god of wildwood growths 24 special god of the _hula_ 24 versus Kapo 47 wreathing her emblem 34 LAKA SITS in her shady grove: altar-prayer 34 LAMENT OF MANA-MANA-IA-KALUEA-- Alas, alas, maimed are my hands! 212 _Auwe, auwe, mo' ku'u lima!_ 212 LAU LEHUA _punoni ula ke kai o Kona: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 75 LEAF OF LEHUA and noni-tint, the Kona sea: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 76 LE'A WALE _hoi ka wahine lima-lima ole, wawae ole: mele_ of Hiiaka 212 LEHUA ILUNA: tabu-lifting prayer at intermission 126 LELE MAHU'I-LANI _a luna_: a tiring song 56 LET'S WORSHIP NOW the bird-cage: song for the _hula ki'i_ 99 LIFT MAHU'I-LANI on high: tiring song 56 LIKE NO A LIKE: song with music XII 168 LIMA-LOA, god of mirage (note) 79 LITERALISM IN TRANSLATION versus fidelity 88 LITURGY OF KUAHU not rigid 21 LI'ULI'U ALOHA _ia'u mele kahea_: password to the _halau_ 39 LONG, LONG have I tarried with love: password to the _halau_ 39 LONO, cult of 18 See Gods of the _hula_. LOOK FORTH, GOD KU, look forth: song for the _hula ilio_ 225 LOOK NOW, WAIALUA, land clothed with ocean-mist: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 60 LOOK TO YOUR WAYS in upland Puna: song apropos of Nihi-aumoe 94 LO, PELE'S THE GOD of my choice: song prayer for the _hula Pele_ 199 LO, THE RAIN, the rain: song for the _hula kolani_ 217 LOVE FAIN COMPELS to greet thee: song, "Cold breast," with music IX 165 LOVE IS AT PLAY in the grove: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 71 LOVE TOUSLED WAIMEA with shafts of the wind: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 69 LYRIC OR OLI: The wind-beaten stream of Wailua 256 LYRIC UTTERANCE 254-256 MAHELE OR PALE, divisions of a song 58 MAI KAHIKI _ka wahine, o Pele: mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 187 MAILE-LAU-LI'I 91 MAILE-PAKAHA 91 MAKA-KU 91 MAKA-LÉI, a mythical fish-tree (note) 17 MAKALI'I, the Pleiades (note) 17 MALUA, fetch water of love: song for the _hula puili_ 115 MALUA, _ki'i wai ke aloha: mele_ for the _hula puili_ 114 MAO WALE _i ka lani: mele_ for the _hula kilu_ 243 MARIONETTE HULA 91 MASKS NOT USED in the _halau_ 179 MAULI-OLA, god of health (note) 198 MELES-- apropos of-- Kahuli, the tree-shell: _Kahuli aku, kahuli mai_ 121 Keawe: _O Keawe ula-i-ka-lani_ (note) 74 Nihi-aumoe: _E hoopono ka hele i ka uha o Puna_ 94 at début of _hula_ performer: _Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona_ 35 for interlude: _Ua ona o Kane i ka awa_ 130 for Kane: _He ú-i, he nináu_ 257 for the-- _hula ala'a-papa_-- _A Koa'e-kea, i Pueo-hulu-nui_ 67 _A Koolau wau, ike i ka ua_ 59 _Hi'u-o-lani, ki'i ka ua o Hilo_ 65 _Hoe Puna i ka wa'a polólo_ 70 _Ho-ina-inau mea ipo i ka nahele_ 71 _Hole Waimea i ka ihe a ka makani_ 68 _Hoopono oe, he aina kai Waialua i ka hau_ 60 _Kau ka ha-é-a, kau o ka hana wa ele_ 69 _Kua loloa Keaau i ka nahele_ 62 _Noluna ka Hale-kai, no ka ma'a-lewa_ 63 _Pakú Kea-au, lulu Wai-akea_ 60 _hula hoonaná: A pili, a pili_ 244 _hula íliíli: A lalo maua o Waipi'o_ 120 _hula ilio: Ku e, naná e!_ 223 _hula kaekeeke_-- _A Hamakua au_ 122 _Kahiki-nui, auwahi ka makani_ 124 _hula ka-laau_-- _Kona kai opua i kala i ka la'i_ 117 _O Kalakaua, he inoa_ 117 _hula kielei Ku piliki'i Hanalei-lehua, la_ 210 _hula ki'i_-- _E kaukau i hale manu, e!_ 99 _E le'e kaukau_ 98 _Eleele kaukau_ 97 _E Wewehi, ke, ke!_ 94 _Kalalau, pali eku i ka makani_ 101 _Pikáka e, ka luna ke, ke!_ 96 _hula kilu_-- _Kálakálaíhi, kaha ka La ma ke kua o Lehua_ 238 _Ku'u hoa mai ka makani kuehu-kapa o Kalalau_ 240 _Mao wale i ka lani_ 243 _Pua ehu kamaléna ka uka o Kapa'a_ 237 _Ula Kala'e-loa i ka lepo a ka makani_ 239 _Ula ka lani ia Kanaloa_ 241 _hula kolani: He wa la, he ua_ 216 _hula kolea: Kolea kai piha_ 219 _hula ku'i_-- _I aloha i ke ko a ka wai_ 251 _Kaulana mai nei Pua Lanakila_ 252 _hula ku'i Molokai_-- _He ala kai olohia_ 207 _He inoa no ka Lani_ 208 _hula manó: Auwe! pau au i ka monó nui, e!_ 221 _hula mu'umu'u: Pi'i ana a-ama_ 213 _hula niau-kani: E pi'i ka wai ka nahele_ 133 _hula ohe: E pi' i ka nahele_ 135 _hula ohelo: Ku oe ko'u wahi ohelo nei la, auwe, auwe!_ 233 _hula o-niu: Ke pohá nei, u'ína la!_ 248 _hula pahu_-- _A Puna au, i Kuki'i au, i Ha'eha'e_ 104 _Kau lilua i ke anu Wai-aleale_ 105 _O Hilo oe, muliwai a ka ua i ka lani_ 104 _hula pa-hua: Pa au i ka ihe a Kane_ 183 _hula pa-ipu_-- _Aole au e hele ka li'u-la o Maná_ 79 _Haku'i ka uahi o ka lua_ 88 _He lua i lea hikina_ 85 _Kauhua Ku, ka Lani, iloli ka moku_ 80 _Kauo pu ka iwa kala-pahe'e_ 76 _Ku aku la Kea-aú, lele ka makani mawaho_ 77 _Lau lehua punoni ula ke kai o Kona_ 75 _O Ewa, aina kai ula i ka lepo_ 84 _Ooe no paha ia, e ka lau o ke aloha_ 82 _Wela Kahiki, e!_ 73 _hula pa'i-umauma_-- _A Hilo au, e, hoolulu ka lehua_ 203 _E Manono la, ea_ 204 _Kahipa, na waiu olewa_ 205 _hula Pele_-- _A Kauai, a ke olewa iluna_ 189 _Aole e mao ka ohu_ 195 _E ala, e Kahiki-ku_ 196 _E oe mauna i ka ohu_ 194 _I kama'ama'a la i ka pua-lei_ 199 _Ike ia Kauná-wahine, Makani Ka-ú_ 193 _Ke amo la ke Akua la i-uka_ 190 _Ku i Wailua ka pou hale_ 191 _Mai Kahiki ka Wahine, o Pele_ 187 _Nou paha e, ka inoa_ 200 _O Pele la ko'u akua_ 198 _hula puili_-- _Hiki mai, hiki mai ka La, e!_ 114 _Malua, ki'i wai ke aloha_ 114 _hula ulili: Ki'i na ka ipo_ 246 _hula úli-ulí_-- _Aole i mana'o ia_ 108 _Auhea wale oe, e ka Makani Inu-wai?_ 110 _inoa_-- composition and criticism of 27 must contain no words of ill omen 37 their authors called "the king's wash-tubs" 116 to Naihe: _Ka nalu nui, a ku ka nalu mai Kona_ 35 in the _hula_, starting of 58 _kahea_, password to the _halau_-- _Ka uka holo-kia ahi-manu o La'a_ 41 _Kunihi ka mauna i ka la'i, e_ 40 _Li'u-li'u aloha ia'u_ 39 _komo_, welcome to the _halau_-- _Aloha na hale o makou i makamaka ole_ 39 _E hea i ke kanaka e komo maloko_ 41 _kuahu_, altar-prayer-- _E, Laka, e!_ 34 _Noho ana Laka i ka ulu wehiwehi_ 33 _kupe'e_, anklet song: _Aala kupukupu ka uka o Kanehoa_ 49 of Hiiaka: _Le'a wale hoi ka wahine limalima ole, wawae ole_ 212 of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea: _Ke lei mai la o Kaula i ke kai e-e!_ 212 _oli_-- for the _hula pua'a: Ko'i maka nui_ 228 in the game of _kilu: A uweuwe ke ko'e a ke kae_ 240 set to music-- XI: _A e ho'i ke aloha i ka mawae_ 167 VIII: _Aia i Waipi'o Paka'alana_ 162 IX: _Aloha wale oe_ 164 VII: _Halau Hanalei i ka nini a la úa_ 156 XIV: _Hawaii ponoi_ 172 X: _He aloha wau ia oe_ 166 XIII: _O ka ponaha iho a ke ao_ 169 XII: _Ua líke no a líke_ 168 to Kaukini: _Ike ia Kaukini, he lawaia manu_ (note) 51 MELODY of Hawaiian song 170 METHINKS IT IS YOU, leaf plucked from Love's tree: song for _hula pa-ipu_ 83 MIMETIC GESTURE 178 MISTAKEN VIEWS about the Hawaiians 262 MISTY AND DIM, a bush in the wilds of Kapa'a: song for _hula kilu_ 237 MOTION, illustrated by gesture 178 MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS 140 influence on a _hula_ performance 113 the _kaekeeke_ 122 the _pu-la-í_ 147 the _ukeké_ 149 MUSICAL SELECTIONS-- I: range of the nose-flute 146 II: from the nose-flute 146 III: the _ukeké_ as played by Keaonaloa 149 IV: song from the _hula pa'i-umauma_ 153 V: song from the _hula pa-ipu_ 153 VI: song from the _hula Pele_ 154 VII: _oli_ and _mele_ from the _hula ala'a-papa_ 156 VIII: _He inoa no Kamehameha_ 162 IX: song, _Poli anuanu: Aloha wale oo_ 164 X: song, _Hua-hua'i_ 166 XI: song, _Ka Mawae_ 167 XII: song, _Líke no Líke_ 168 XIII: song, _Pili-aoao_ 169 XIV: Hawaiian National Hymn, _Hawaii Ponoi_ 172 MUSIC AND POETRY, Hawaiian--their relation 161 MUSIC OF THE HAWAIIANS 138-140 cadence 140 phrasing 140 rhythm 160 under foreign influences 163 vocal execution 139 MYTH ABOUT KUMU-KAHI (note) 197 MYTHICAL SHARK, Papi'o (note) 206 NAME-SONG OF KAMEHAMEHA: In Waipio stands Pa ka'alana 163 of Naihe: The huge roller, roller that surges from Kona 36 NATIONAL HYMN of Hawaii-- translation 175 with music XIV 172 NA-Ú, a game (note) 118 NIAU-KANI, a musical instrument 132 NIHEU, mythological character (note) 194 NIHI-AUMOE 91 NOHO ANA LAKA _i ka ulu wehiwehi_: altar-prayer 33 NOLUNA _ka hale kai, e ka ma'alewa_-- _mele_ for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 63 _mele_ with music VII 155 NOSE-FLUTE 135, 145 music from, II 146 remarks on, by Jennie Elsner 146 NOU PAHA E, _ka inoa: mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 200 Now FOR THE DANCE, dance in accord: song for the _hula ki'i_ 98 NOW, KANE, APPROACH, illumine the altar: altar-prayer to Kane and Kapo 45 NOW WRIGGLES THE WORM to its goal: song in the game of _kilu_ 240 OBSTACLE, AN, illustrated by gesture 177 O EWA, _aina kai ula i ka lepo: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 84 O GODDESS LAKA! altar-prayer 34 OHE HANO-IHU, the nose-flute 135, 145, 146 O HILO OE, _Hilo, muliwai a ka wa i ka lani: mele_ for the _hula pahu_ 104 OH WEWEHI, la, la! song for the _hula ki'i_ 95 OH WILDWOOD BOUQUET, Oh Laka-- tabu-removing prayer at graduation 32 tabu-removing prayer at intermission 128 O KALAKAUA, _he inoa: mele_ for the hula _ka-laau_ 117 O KA PONAHA _iho a ke ao_: song with music XIII 169 O KEAWE-ULA-I-KA-LANI: old _mele_ apropos of Keawe (note) 74 O LAKA OE: altar-prayer to Laka 42 OLAPA, a division of _hula_ performers 28, 57 OLD SEA SONG-- Blow, blow, thou wind of Hilo! (note) 65 _Pa mai, pa mai_ (note) 65 OLD SONG: Keawe, the red blush of dawn (note) 74 OLELO HUNÁ, secret talk 97 OLI AND MELE--- dividing line between 254 from the _hula ala'a-papa_, music VII 156 OLI LEI: _Ke lei mai la o Kaula i ke kai, e!_ 56 OLI PA-Ú: _Kakua pa-ú, ahu na kikepa_ 51 OLI, THE 254-256 illustration of: _Ka wai opua-makani o Wailua_ 255 OLI, with music VII: _Halau Hanalei i ka nini a ka ua_ 155 OLOPANA, a famous king (note) 74 O MY LOVE goes out to thee: song with music X 167 ONE-BREATH PERFORMANCE 139 OOE NO PAHA IA, _e ka lau o ke aloha: mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 82 O PELE _la ko'u akua: mele_ for the _hula Pele_ 198 ORACULAR UTTERANCE of Kapihe: _E iho ana oluna_ 99 ORGANIZATION of a _hula_ company 29 ORTHOGRAPHY of the Hawaiian language--influence of Rev. W. Ellis (note) 72 OUTSPREADS NOW THE DAWN: song with music XIII 170 O WANAHILI _ka po loa ia Manu'a: mele_ for the _hula ki'i_ 100 PA AU I KA _ihe a Kane: mele_ for the _hula pa-hua_ 183 PAHU, the drum 140 PAKÚ KEAAU, _lulu Waiakea: mele_ for the _hula pa-hua_ 60 PA MAI, _pa mai_: old sea song (note) 65 PAPI'O, mythical shark (note) 206 PART-SINGING in Hawaii-- at the present time 152 in ancient times 150, 152 PASSWORD TO THE HALAU-- In the uplands, the darting flame-bird of La'a 41 Long, long have I tarried with love 39 Steep stands the mountain in calm 40 PA-U HALAKÁ, THE (note) 124 PA-Ú SONG: Gird on the _pa-ú_, garment tucked in one side 54 PA-Ú, the _hula_ skirt 49 PECULIARITIES of Hawaiian speech, music affected by 139 PELE-- relations of, with Kama-pua'a 231 story of 186 PERILOUS, STEEP, is the climb to Hanalei woods: song for the _hula kielei_ 211 PHRASING in music 140 PHYSIQUE of _hula_ performers 57 PI'I ANA A-ÁMA: _mele_ for the _hula mu'umu'u_ 213 PIKÁKA, E, _ka luna, ke, ke: mele_ foe the _hula ki'i_ 96 PILLARS of heaven's dome, _Kukulu o Kahiki_ (note) 17 PITCHING THE TUNE 158 PLAIN, A, illustrated by gesture 178 PLEIADES, THE, _Makali'i_ (note) 17 POETRY of ancient Hawaii 161, 263 POINT TO A DARK ONE: song for the _hula ki'i_ 97 POLI ANUANU, song with music IX: _Aloha wale oe_ 164 PRAYER OF ADULATION to Laka: In the forests, on the ridges 18 PRAYER OE DISMISSAL at intermission: _Ku ka makaia a ka huaka'i moe ipo_ 129 PRECIOUS THE GIFT of heart's-ease: song for the _hula ku'i Molokai_ 208 PROVERBIAL SAYING: Unstable the house 53 PU-Á, a whistle 146 PUA EHU KAMALENA _ka uka o Kapa'a: mele_ for the _hula kilu_ 237 PUAPUA-KEA 91 PUILI, a bamboo rattle 144 PU-LA-Í, a musical instrument 147 PULE HOONOA-- at graduation exercises: _Pupu we'uwe'u e, Laka e!_ 31 at intermission: _Lehua i-luna_ 126 to Laka: _Pupu we'uwe'u e, Laka e!_ 128 PULE KUAHU-- _E hooulu ana i Kini o ke Akua_ 21 _Ei' au, e Laka mai uka_ 20 in prose speech: _E ola ia'u, i ka malihini_ 46 to Kane and Kapo: _Kane hiki a'e, he maláma ia luna_ 44 to Laka: _Eia ke kuko, ka li'a_ 43 to Laka: _Haki pu a ka nahelehele_ 18 to Laka: _O Laka oe_ 42 to the _Kini Akua: E ulu, e ulu, Kini o ke Akua!_ 46 PUNA PLIES PADDLE night-long in the storm: song for _hula ala'a-papa_ 70 PUNCH-AND-JUDY SHOW and the _hula ki'i_ 91 PU-NIU, coconut drum 141 PUPILS OF THE HALAU--dispensation before graduation 33 POPU-A-LENALENA, a famous dog 131 PUPU WE'UWE'U E, Laka e! _pule hoonoa_-- at graduation 31 at intermission 128 PURIFICATION of the _hula_ company 15 of the site for the _halau_ 14 RANGE of the nose-flute 146 RECITATION in the _hula_, style of 58 RED GLOWS KALA'E through the wind-blown dust: song for the _hula kilu_ 239 REED-INSTRUMENT, the _niau-kani_ 147 RELATION of Hawaiian poetry and music 161 RELIGION in Hawaii somber 13 RESPONSIVE CHANTING in the _hula ka-laau_ 116 RETURN, O LOVE, to the refuge: song with music XI 168 RHYTHM in Hawaiian music 160, 171 RULES AND PENALTIES controlling a _hula_ company 29 RULES OF CONDUCT during the building of a _halau_ 15 SHARK-GOD, Kawelo, a sorcerer (note) 79 SHE IS LIMED, she is limed: song for the _hula hoonaná_ 245 SINGING IN ANCIENT TIMES--testimony of Capt. James King 149 SKIRT for the _hula_, the _pa-ú_ 49 SLANG among the Hawaiians 98 SONG, Hawaiian attitude toward 159 See also Hawaiian song. SONGS-- apropos of Nihi-aumoe: Look to your ways in upland Puna 94 at the first _hula_ 8 composed by Kamehameha II 69 divisions of 58 epithalamium, for the _hula ki'i_: Wanahili bides the whole night with Manu'a 101 for interlude: Kane is drunken with awa 130 for the-- _hula ala'a-papa_-- A mackerel sky, time for foul weather 70 From mountain retreat and root-woven ladder 64 Haunt of white tropic-bird 67 Heaven-magic fetch a Hilo pour 66 Keaau is a long strip of wildwood 62 Keaau shelters, Waiakea lies in the calm 61 Look now, Waialua, land clothed with ocean mist 60 Love is at play in the grove 71 Love tousled Waimea with shafts of the wind 69 Puna plies paddle night-long in the storm 70 'Twas in Koolau I met with the rain 59 _hula hoonaná_: She is limed, she is limed 245 _hula íliíli_: We twain were lodged in Waipi'o 120 _hula ilio_: Look forth, god Ku, look forth! 225 _hula kaekeeke_: It was in Hamakua 123 Kahiki-nui, land of wind-driven smoke 125 _hula ka-laau_: Kalakaua, a great name 117 The cloud-piles o'er Kona's sea 118 _hula kielei_: Perilous, steep is the climb to Hanalei woods 211 _hula ki'i_-- Let's worship now the bird-cage 99 Now for the dance 98 Oh Wewehi, la, la! 95 Point to a dark one 97 The mountain walls of Kalalau 102 The roof is a-dry, la, la! 96 _hula kilu_-- Comrade mine in the robe-stripping gusts of Lalau 241 Engulfed in heaven's abyss 243 Kanaloa tints heaven with a blush 242 Misty and dim, a bush in the wilds of Kapa'a 237 Red glows Kala'e through the wind-blown dust 239 The sun-furrow gleams at the back of Lehua 238 _hula kolani_: Lo, the rain, the rain! 217 _hula kolea_: A plover at the full of the sea 220 _hula ku'i_-- Fame trumpets your conquests each day 253 How pleasing, when borne by the tide 252 _hula ku'i Molokai_-- A eulogy for the princess 209 Precious the gift of heart's ease! 208 _hula manó_: Alas, I am seized by the shark, great shark! 222 _hula mu'umu'u_: Black crabs are climbing 214 _hula niau-kani_: Up to the streams in the wildwood 133 _hula ohe_: Gome up to the wildwood, come 136 _hula ohelo_: Touched, thou art touched by my gesture 234 _hula o-niu_: The rustle and hum of spinning top 249 _hula pahu_-- In Puna was I, in Kiki'i, in Ha'e-ha'e 105 performers 103 Thou art Hilo, Hilo, flood-gate of heaven 104 Wai-aleale stands haughty and cold 106 _hula pa-hua_: I am smitten with spear of Kane 184 _hula pa-ipu_-- A burst of smoke from the pit lifts to the skies 89 A pit lies (far) to the east 86 A storm from the sea strikes Ke-au 78 Big with child is the Princess Ku 81 Ewa's lagoon is fed with dirt 84 Glowing is Kahiki, oh! 75 I will not chase the mirage of Maná 80 Leaf of lehua and noni-tint 76 Methinks it is you, leaf plucked from love's tree 83 The iwa flies heavy to nest in the brush 76 _hula pa'i-umauma_-- At Hilo I rendezvoused with the lehua 203 Come now, Manono 204 'Tis Kahipa, with pendulous breasts 206 _hula Pele_-- Alas, there's no stay to the smoke 195 At Wailua stands the main house-post 192 Bedeck now the board for the feast 200 Behold Kauná, that sprite of windy Ka-ú 193 From Kahiki came the woman, Pele 188 Ho! mountain of vapor puffs! 194 Lo, Pele's the god of my choice 198 They bear the god's ax up the mountain 191 To Kauai, lifted in ether 189 With music VI 154 Yours, doubtless, this name 201 _hula pua'a_: Ax of broadest edge I'm hight 230 _hula puili_-- It has come, it has come 114 Malua, fetch water of love 115 _hula ulili_: A search for a sweetheart 247 _hula úli-ulí_-- I spurn the thought with disdain 109 Whence art thou, thirsty Wind? 111 from the _hula pa'i-umauma_--music IV 153 in the game of _kilu_: Now wriggles the worm to its goal 240 of cosmology-- Begotten were the gods of graded rank (note) 196 _Hanau ke apapa nu'u_ (note) 196 of Hiiaka: How pleased is the girl maimed of hand and foot 212 of Mana-mana-ia-kaluea: Kaúla wreathes her brow with the ocean 213 of the tree-shell: Trill afar, trill a-near 121 of welcome to the _halau_: What love to our cottage homes! 40 The Water of Kane: This question, this query 258 with music-- VII: Hanalei is a hall for the dance in the pouring rain 155 XIV: Hawaii's very own 175 VIII: In Waipi'o stands Paka'a-lana 163 IX: Love fain compels to greet thee 165 X: O my love goes out to thee 167 XIII: Outspreads now the dawn 170 XI: Return, O love, to the refuge 168 XII: When the rain drums loud on the leaf 169 SOURCE of _hula_ songs 58 STEEP STANDS THE MOUNTAIN in calm: password to the _halau_ 40 STRESS-ACCENT and rhythmic accent 158 SUPPORT AND ORGANIZATION of the _hula_ 26 TABU, as a power in controlling a _hula_ company 30 TABU-REMOVING PRAYER at intermission: Oh wildwood bouquet, O Laka! 128 TEMPO in Hawaiian song 160 THE CLOUD-PILES o'er Kona's sea whet my joy: song for the _hula kalaau_ 118 THE HUGE ROLLER, roller that surges from Kona: name-song to Naihe 36 THE IWA FLIES HEAVY to nest in the brush: song for the _hula pa-ipu_ 76 THE MOUNTAIN WALLS of Kalalau: song for the _hula ki'i_ 102 THE RAINBOW stands red o'er the ocean: tiring song 55 THE ROOF is a-dry, la, la! song for the _hula ki'i_ 96 THE RUSTLE AND HUM of spinning top: song for the _hula o-niu_ 249 THE SUN-FURROW gleams at the hack of Lehua: song for the _hula kilu_ 238 THE WIND-BEATEN STREAM of Wailua: an _oli_ or lyric 256 THEY BEAR THE GOD'S AX up the mountain: song for the _hula Pele_ 191 THIS MY WISH, my burning desire: altar-prayer to Laka 43 THIS QUESTION, this query: song, The Water of Kane 258 THIS SPOIL AND RAPE of the wildwood: altar-prayer to Laka 19 THOU ART HILO, Hilo, flood-gate of heaven: song for the _hula pahu_ 104 THOU ART LAKA: altar-prayer to Laka 42 THY BLESSING, O LAKA: altar-prayer in prose speech 47 TIRING SONG-- _Lele Mahu'ilani a luna_ 56 Lift, Mahu'ilani, on high 56 The rainbow stands red o'er the ocean 55 'TIS KAHIPA, with pendulous breasts: song for the _hula pa'i-umauma_ 206 TO KAUAI, lifted in ether: song for the _hula Pele_ 189 TONE-INTERVALS in Hawaiian song 158 TOUCHED, thou art touched by my gesture: song for the _hula ohelo_ 234 TRANSLATION, literalism in, versus fidelity 88 TRILL A-FAR, trill a-near: song of the tree-shell 121 'TWAS IN KOOLAU I met with the rain: song for the _hula ala'a-papa_ 59 UA ONA O KANE _i ka awa: mele_ for interlude 130 UKEKÉ, a Hawaiian harp 147 music of 149 UKU-LELE and taro-patch fiddle, used in the _hula ku'i_ (note) 251 ULA KALA'E-LOA _i ka lepo a ka makani: mele_ for the _hula kilu_ 239 ULA KA LANI _ia Kanaloa: mele_ for the _hula kilu_ 241 ÚLI-ULÍ, a musical instrument 107, 144 UNION OR SIMILARITY, illustrated by gesture 178 VOCAL EXECUTION of Hawaiian music 139 VOWEL-REPETITION in the _i'i_ 159 WAI-ALEALE stands haughty and cold: song for the _hula pahu_ 106 WANAHILI bides the whole night with Manu'a: (epithalamium) song for the _hula ki'i_ 101 WATER OF KANE, THE: a song of Kane 257 WELA KAHIKI, E! _mele_ for the _hula pa-ipu_ 73 WELCOME TO THE HALAU: Call, to the man to come in 41 WE TWAIN were lodged in Waipi'o: song for the _hula íliíli_ 120 WHAT LOVE to our cottage homes! song of welcome to the _halau_ 40 WHENCE ART THOU, thirsty Wind? song for the _hula úli-ulí_ 111 WHEN FLOWERS THE WILIWILI: a bit of folk-lore (note) 221 WHEN THE RAIN DRUMS loud on the leaf: song with music XII 169 WORD-REPETITION in poetry 54 for assonance 227 WORSHIP IN THE HALAU 42 contrasted with worship in the _heiau_ 15 WREATHING THE EMBLEM of goddess Laka 34 WREATH-SONG: Kaula wears the ocean as a wreath 56 XYLOPHONE, the _laau_ 144 YOURS, DOUBTLESS, this name: song for the _hula Pele_ 201 
19944	----	* * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES | | | | Accents and diacritical marks have generally been | | standardised. Where there is a single instance of a word | | with an accent, and one without, no change has been made | | to the original. (e.g. momme/mommé; murashite/murashité; | | Kuramae/Kuramaé). | | | | The letter o with a macron is represented as o[u]. | | The letter u with a macron is represented as u[u]. | | | | Kanji characters in the original book are shown | | enclosed in square brackets: for example, [kami]. | | | | The italicisation of Japanese words has been standardised. | | | | Punctuation and obvious printer's errors have been | | corrected. | | | | Hyphenation and capitalisation has been standardised. | | | | The symbol referred to in footnote 44, an X with a bar | | across the top, has been represented as [=X]. | | | | Superscript numbers in square brackets are represented | | as ^{[4]}. | | | | Punctuation and obvious printer's errors have been | | corrected. For a complete list, please see the bottom | | of this document. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * [Illustration] LEGEND. The outline of the map is that found in Volume I. of the Edo Sunago, published Keio 2nd year (1866). The detail of district maps found in the book is worked in, together with that from the sectional map of Edo published Ansei 4th year (1857), and from the Go Edo Zusetsu Shu[u]ran published Kaei 6th year (1853). The map therefore shows in rough outline the state of the city just before the removal of the capital from Kyo[u]to; the distribution of the castes. The Pre-Tokugawa villages (Eiroku: 1558-1569) indicated on the map found in the "Shu[u]ran" are:-- North and South Shinagawa: Meguro-Motomura: Gin-Mitamura: Mitamura: O[u]nemura: Upper and Lower Shibuya: Harajuku-mura: Kokubunji: Azabu: Kawaza Ichi: O[u]zawa-mura: Imai-mura: Sendagaya: Yamanaka-mura: Ichigaya: Ushigome: Kobiko-mura: Upper and Lower Hirakawa-mura: Ochiya: Sekihon: Ikebukuroya: Tomizaka-mura: Ishibukero-mura: Tanibaragaike: Neruma-mura: Okurikyo[u]: Nakarai-mura: Koishikawa: Zoshigayatsu: O[u]ji: Shimura: Takinogawa: Kinsoboku-mura: Harajuku-mura (II.): Komegome-mura: Taninaka-mura: Shimbori-mura: Mikawajima-mura: Ashigahara-mura: Haratsuka: Ishihama-mura: Senju[u]-mura: Suda-mura: Sumidagawa: Yanagijima: Jujo[u]-mura; Itabashi: Sugamo-mura: Arakawa (river): Kandagawa pool (_ike_); Kanda-mura: Shibasaki-mura: Shin-Horima-mura: Yushima-mura: Shitaya-mura: Torigoe-mura: Shirosawa-mura: Asakusa-mura: Harai-mura: Some-Ushigome: Ishiwara: Kinoshitagawa: Ubagaike (pool): Negishi-mura: Kinsoki-mura: Kameido-mura (near Ueno): Shinobazu-ike (pool). From South to North circling by the West. Shinagawa: Mita-mura: Takanawa: Near Imai-mura is a Myo[u]jin shrine, close by the mouth of the present Akabane river. Ikura: Hibiya: Tsukiji: Tsukuda: Tame-ike (pool): Tsukuda Myo[u]jin: Ota's castle: Sanke-in: Hirakawa-mura: Sakurada-mura: Honju[u]-mura: O[u]tamage-ike: Kametaka-mura. To the East. 77 villages, total. Pronounce as in Italian, giving vowels full value: ch- as in "church." THE YOTSUYA KWAIDAN OR O'IWA INARI _BY THIS AUTHOR_ SAKURAMBO[U] (THE FRUIT OF THE TREE) Travel notes on thoughts and things Japanese, experienced during a four years' sojourn in the country Octavo. 339 pages. MORE JAPONICO A critique of the effect of an idea--communityism--on the life and history of a people Octavo. VI, 594 pages. SAITO[U] MUSASHI-BO[U] BENKEI (TALES OF THE WARS OF THE GEMPEI) Being the story of the lives and adventures of Iyo-no-Kami Minamoto Kuro[u] Yoshitsune and Saito[u] Musashi-Bo[u] Benkei the Warrior Monk Octavo. 2 Vols., XXI, 841 pages, with 69 full page illustrations (frontispieces in color) and three maps. OGURI HANGWAN ICHIDAIKI (TALES OF THE SAMURAI) Being the story of the lives, the adventures, and the mis-adventures of the Hangwan-dai Kojiro[u] Sukéshigé and Ternte-hime, his wife Octavo. XV, 485 pages, with 45 full page illustrations (frontispiece in color) and three maps. [Illustration: THE O'IWA OF THE TAMIYA INARI JINJA OF ECHIZENBORI, TOKYO] _TALES OF THE TOKUGAWA_ THE YOTSUYA KWAIDAN OR O'IWA INARI RETOLD FROM THE JAPANESE ORIGINALS BY JAMES S. DE BENNEVILLE "The mainspring of human existence is love (_nasaké_), for others or--oneself." --SEISHIN PRESS OF J.B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY PHILADELPHIA, U.S.A. 1917 COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY JAMES SEGUIN DE BENNEVILLE PRINTED AND COPYRIGHTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA PREFACE Tales of the Tokugawa can well be introduced by two "wonder-stories" of Nippon. One of these, the Yotsuya Kwaidan,[1] is presented in the present volume, not so much because of the incidents involved and the peculiar relation to a phase of Nipponese mentality, as from the fact that it contains all the machinery of the Nipponese ghost story. From this point of view the reading of one of these tales disposes of a whole class of the native literature. Difference of detail is found. But unless the tale carries some particular interest, as of curious illustration of customs or history--the excuse for a second presentation--a long course of such reading becomes more than monotonous. It is unprofitable. Curiously enough, it can be said that most Nipponese ghost stories are true. When a sword is found enshrined, itself the malevolent influence--as is the Muramasa blade of the Hamamatsu Suwa Jinja, the subject of the Komatsu Onryu[u] of Matsubayashi Hakuchi--and with such tradition attached to it, it is difficult to deny a basis of fact attaching to the tradition. The ghost story becomes merely an elaboration of an event that powerfully impressed the men of the day and place. Moreover this naturalistic element can be detected in the stories themselves. Nipponese writers of to-day explain most of them by the word _shinkei_--"nerves"; the working of a guilty conscience moulding succeeding events, and interpreting the results to the subsequent disaster involved. The explanation is somewhat at variance with the native Shinto[u] doctrine of the moral perfection of the Nipponese, and its maxim--follow the dictates of one's heart; but that is not our present concern. Their theory, however, finds powerful support in the nature of the Nipponese ghost. The Buddhist ghost does not remain on earth. It has its travels and penalties to go through in the nether world, or its residence in Paradise, before it begins a new life--somewhere. The Shinto[u] ghost, in the vagueness of Shinto[u] theology, does remain on earth. If of enough importance it is enshrined, and rarely goes abroad, except when carried in procession at the time of the temple festival. Otherwise it finds its home in the miniature shrine of the _kami-dana_ or god-shelf. There is a curious confusion of Nipponese thought on this subject; at least among the mass of laity. At the Bon-Matsuri the dead revisit the scene of their earthly sojourn for the space of three days; and yet the worship of the _ihai_, or mortuary tablets, the food offerings with ringing of the bell to call the attention of the resident Spirit is a daily rite at the household Buddhist shrine (Butsudan). When, therefore, the ghost does not conform to these well-regulated habits, it is because it is an unhappy ghost. It is then the _O'Baké_ or _Bakémono_, the haunting ghost. Either it has become an unworshipped spirit, or, owing to some atrocious injury in life, it stays to wander the earth, and to secure vengeance on the living perpetrator. In most cases this is effected by the grudge felt or spoken at the last moment of life. The mind, concentrated in its hate and malice at this final crisis, secures to the Spirit a continued and unhappy sojourn among the living, until the vengeance be secured, the grudge satisfied, and the Spirit pacified. There are other unhappy conditions of this revisiting of life's scenes; as when the dead mother returns to nurse her infant, or the dead mistress to console a lover. In the latter case, at least, the expressed affection has a malignant effect, perhaps purpose--as in the Bo[u]tan Do[u]ro[u] of Sanyu[u]tei Encho[u], a writer most careful in observing all the niceties called for by the subject. In the Nipponese ghost story the vengeful power of the ghost acts through entirely natural means. The characters involved suffer through their own delusions aroused by conscience. In the old days, and among the common people in Nippon to-day, the supernatural was and is believed in, with but few exceptions. Such stories still are held to be fact, albeit the explanation is modern. Hence it can be said that the "Yotsuya Kwaidan" is a true story. O'Iwa, the Lady of Tamiya, really did exist in the Genroku and Ho[u]rei periods (1688-1710); just ante-dating the reforming rule of the eighth Tokugawa Sho[u]gun, Yoshimune Ko[u]. Victim of an atrocious plot of her husband and others, she committed suicide with the vow to visit her rage upon all engaged in the conspiracy. The shrine of the O'Iwa Inari (Fox-witched O'Iwa) in Yotsuya was early erected (1717) to propitiate her wrathful ghost; and the shrines of Nippon, to the shabbiest and meanest, have their definite record. On the register the name of the husband appears as Ibei; "probably correct," as Mr. Momogawa tells us. With him the name of Iémon is retained in the present story. Iémon is the classic example of the wicked and brutal husband, on the stage and in the _gidayu_ recitation of Nippon. There was but little reason to revert to the record. The shrine always prospered. It appears on the maps of the district as late as Ansei fourth year (1857); and the writer has had described to him by a friend a visit to this shrine some twenty years ago. The lady in question referred to it rather vaguely as beyond Samegafuchi: _i.e._, at Yotsuya Samoncho[u]. It was particularly favoured by the hair dressers, and to the eyes of a young girl was a gorgeous structure in its continually renewed decoration. Inquiry of late in the district elicited the information that the shrine had been removed. Many changes have been made on the southern side of Yotsuya by the passage of the railway from Iidamachi to Shinjuku. The Myo[u]gyo[u]ji, with other temples there located, has been swept away. In fact the Meiji period handled all those institutions established by deceased piety with great roughness. Teramachi--Temple Street--is now but a name. The temples of eastern Yotsuya have nearly all disappeared. Have public institutions occupied this "public land"? Of course: the sites were sold for the secular purpose of profit, and poverty spread wide and fast over them. Yotsuya got the shell of this oyster. About the middle of Meiji therefore (say 1893) the shrine disappeared from Yotsuya Samoncho[u]; to be re-erected in Echizenbori near the Sumidagawa. Local inquiry could or would give but little information. A fortunate encounter at the Denzu-In with an University student, likewise bent on hunting out the old sites of Edo's history, set matters right. Subsequent visits to the newer shrine were not uninteresting, though the presence of the mirror of O'Iwa and of the bamboo tube inclosing her Spirit (Mr. Momogawa) was strenuously denied by the incumbent. In the presence of the very genuine worship at the lady's shrine much stress need not be laid on the absence. The present story practically is based on the "Yotsuya Kwaidan" of Shunkintei Ryuo[u], a famous story-teller of the Yoshiwara, and an old man when the "Restoration" of the Meiji period occurred. The sketch given in the "O'Iwa Inari Yu[u]rei" of Momogawa Jakuen filled in gaps, and gave much suggestion in moulding the story into a consistent whole. Parts merely sketched by the older story-teller found completeness. This collection of ghost stories--the "Kwaidan Hyaku Monogatari" published by the Kokkwado[u]--is in the main written by Mr. Momogawa, and can be recommended as one of the best of these collections, covering in shorter form the more important stories of this class of the native literature. The "Yotsuya Kwaidan" of Shinsai To[u]yo[u], one of the older and livelier of the _ko[u]dan_ lecturers, gives the scene at the house of Cho[u]bei, and his quarrel with Toémon. It is found in the "Kwaidan-Shu[u]" published by the Hakubun-kwan. The _gidayu_ (heroic recitation) and the drama handle all these stories for their own peculiar purposes. The incidents of a tale are so distorted, for stage use and dramatic effect, as to make these literary forms of small avail. The letter of O'Hana, however, is practically that of the play of Tsuruya Namboku (Katsu Byo[u]zo[u]). It has been thought well to append to the story the _gidayu_ of this writer, covering the scene in Iémon's house. Also the strange experience of the famous actor Kikugoro[u], third of that name, is put into English for the curious reader. Kikugoro[u] was the pioneer in the representation of the Namboku drama. This life history of the O'Iwa Inari--the moving cause of the establishment of her shrine--is no mere ghost story. It is a very curious exposition of life in Edo among a class of officials entirely different from the fighting _samurai_ who haunted the fencing schools of Edo; from the men higher up in social status, who risked heads, or rather bellies, in the politics of the day and the struggle to obtain position, which meant power, in the palace clique. These latter were men who sought to have a share in the government of the Sho[u]gun's person, and hence of the nation. They strove to seat themselves in the high posts of the palace. Here was a rapidly revolving wheel to which a man must cling, or be dashed to pieces. To prevent being shoved off into destruction they used every means of slander and intrigue, and fought against such, that the life of a rich and luxurious court afforded. The result, too often, was the present of a dagger from the suzerain they sought to please. Trapped into some breach of the harsh discipline, or even of mere form of etiquette, the gift was "respectfully received" with the mocking face of gratitude, even from the hand of the successful rival in office. At his home the defeated politician cut his belly open. His obedience to the suzerain's will was duly reported. His family was ruined or reprieved according to a capricious estimation of its power of resentment--and it became a question of "who next?" to try for a place on the wheel. On the contrary those lower officials,[2] engaged in the dull routine of bureaucratic office, had a much less dangerous service and etiquette to deal with. In insignificant ease they lived and intrigued in their petty way, under no obligation to take sides in the politics of the truly great. If they fell, it was largely their own fault. Such was the position of those in immediate contact with the working wheels of the Sho[u]gun's Government. The great _bugyo[u]_ (magistrates) were continually shifting. Their court staff was the solid foundation of unyielding precedent in form. The one was a court officer; the others court officers. Hence the Kwaidan possesses value for the social lesson it conveys. The admittance of a stranger to the ward, his evil bond with the Lady of Tamiya, the previous passion for O'Hana and thereby the entanglement of Kwaiba in the plot; all form a network in which the horror of the story is balanced by the useful lessons to be drawn by the mind of Nippon from its wickedness. Perhaps this belief in the effect of the curse of the suicide acts both in deterring or bringing back the erring husband, and in saving the wife from the extremities of her despair in abandonment. The story of O'Iwa, the belief in her power, to-day has a strong influence on a certain class of the Nipponese mind; especially among the women. If the present writer might have felt momentarily an amused feeling at sight of her worshippers, it was quickly lost at sight of the positive unhappiness expressed in these faces of the abandoned. A visit to the Tamiya Inari is not necessarily either one of idle curiosity or without results. Some exceedingly painful impressions can be brought away in the mind. It is not entirely in jest therefore that apology is made for the reproduction of the story. It is well in such matters to follow one's predecessors. Moreover, public sentiment is not to be derided nor disregarded. It has a certain title to respect, even when superstition is involved. Hence the statement can be made, that in telling this story of the "Yotsuya Kwaidan" no derogatory motive is involved--to people, class, or person; least of all in reference to the dread Lady of Tamiya. OMARUDANI--4th July, 1916. CONTENTS CHAPTER. PAGE PROEM 15 I. O'MINO AND DENSUKÉ 17 II. KAWAI SAN OF KANDA KU 28 III. TAKAHASHI DAIHACHIRO[U] 35 IV. THE APPEARANCE OF O'IWA SAN 43 V. THE AFFAIR OF THE SHIBA KIRIDO[U]SHI 49 VI. NEGOTIATIONS: THE BUSINESS OF A NAKO[U]DO OR MARRIAGE BROKER 63 VII. IÉMON APPEARS 74 VIII. IF OLD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT 86 IX. LOVE KNOTS 93 X. THE PLOT AGAINST O'IWA 99 XI. THE PLOT DEVELOPS 106 XII. KWAIBA'S REVENGE 114 XIII. THE YO[U]TAKA (NIGHT-HAWKS) OF HONJO[U] 123 XIV. THE PUNISHMENT 131 XV. CHO[U]BEI GETS THE NEWS 141 XVI. NEWS REACHES KWAIBA 155 XVII. NEWS OF KWAIBA 162 XVIII. IN THE SHADOW OF THE GO INKYO[U] 173 XIX. TAMIYA YOÉMON: WITH NEWS OF KONDO[U] ROKURO[U]BEI AND MYO[U]ZEN THE PRIEST 180 XX. KIBEI DONO 195 XXI. MATTERS ECCLESIASTICAL 212 XXII. THE RITES FOR O'IWA 222 XXIII. THE SANZUGAWA, BRIDGELESS; THE FLOWERLESS ROAD TRAVERSED BY THE DEAD 233 APPENDICES 251 [The pronunciation of the Japanese vowels and consonants follows closely the Italian; in diphthongs and triphthongs each vowel is given full value. a = a as in father, e = a as in mate, i = e as in meet, o = o as in soap, u = oo as in fool. g is always hard. In the To[u]kyo[u] district it has the sound ng. ch has full value, as in church. It is _not_ k; c is only found as ch; _i.e._ cha, chi, cho, chu. The vowels also have long (continued) sounds, marked by the accent -. At times a vowel is elided; or rather but faintly touched by the voice. Thus Sukéshigé is pronounced Skéshigé; Sukénaga = Skénaga; Kuranosuké = Kuranoské. _Bu_ and _mu_ at the end of word lose the vowel sound--Shikibu = Shikib. Kami used in connection with a man means "lord," Wakasa no Kami = Lord of Wakasa province. Reprinted from the "Oguri Hangwan."] (Kami also means "God" or divinized person; including the spirits of the dead. Even a living man can be regarded as a _kami_, in cases of some very unusual service rendered to the public welfare. Professor Imai recently--at Karuizawa--called attention to the fact that originally _kami_ was written [kami], _i.e._ "superior." The divine attribute [kami] was introduced with Buddhism.) PROEM Reader, pray take not the story of the O'Iwa Inari, the Yotsuya Kwaidan, as a mere fairy tale or novel of the day. The shrine of the Tamiya Inari stands now to attest the truth of the tradition. Let the doubter but witness the faith of the believer in the powers of the fearful lady; and, if doubt still continues to exist, the salutary fear of others at least will inspire respect. THE YOTSUYA KWAIDAN OR O'IWA INARI CHAPTER I O'MINO AND DENSUKÉ Yotsuya is a suburb--at the extreme west of Edo-To[u]kyo[u]. Its streets are narrow and winding, though hilly withal; especially on the southern edge toward the Aoyama district, still devoted to cemeteries and palaces, sepulchres whited without and within. Echizenbori would be at the other extremity of the great city. It fronts eastward on the bank of the Sumidagawa. The populous and now poverty stricken districts of Honjo[u] and Fukagawa beyond the wide stream, with other qualities, deprive it of any claim of going to extremes. In fact Echizenbori is a very staid and solid section of Edo-To[u]kyo[u]. Its streets are narrow; and many are the small shops to purvey for the daily needs of its inhabitants. But these rows of shops are sandwiched in between great clumps of stores, partly warehouses and partly residences of the owners thereof. These stores line the canals of Echizenbori, water courses crowded with junks carrying their ten tons, or their hundreds of tons, of freight--precious cargoes of rice to go into these stores in bulk, of _shoyu_ (soy) by the hundred kegs, of sakarazumi (charcoal from Shimosa) by the thousand _tawara_ (bale), of fish dried and fresh, of _takuan_ or _daikon_ (the huge white radish) pickled in salt and rice bran, of all the odds and ends of material in the gross which go to make up the necessities of living in a great city. If Echizenbori then can make its show of poverty, and very little _display_ of wealth, it is not one of the poor quarters of this capital city of Nippon. Crossing the Takabashi from Hacho[u]bori and plunging down the narrow street opposite; a short turn to the right, a plunge down another narrow street and a turn to the right; one comes to the high cement wall, in its modernness of type a most unusual attachment to shrine or temple. The gate is narrow and formal; almost like the entrance to a garden or smaller burying ground. Within all is changed from the busy outside world. The area inclosed is small--perhaps a square of a hundred and fifty feet--but marked in lines by a maze of lanterns of the cheap iron variety, set on cheap wooden posts. On the right is seen a minor shrine or two dedicated to the Inari goddess. On the left is a small building devoted to votive offerings, the crude and the more elaborate. The most striking is the offering of a little _geisha_ lady, and portrays an heroic scene of early days. There are other portraitures, in which perhaps a wandering lover is seen as a hero, to the lady's eyes, of these later times. On the outside of the structure are posted up by the hundred pictures of once woebegone ladies, now rejoicing in the potent influence of the Tamiya shrine to restore to them the strayed affections of husband or lover. Next in line is an open, shed-like structure. It is a poor chance if here the casual visitor does not encounter one or two of the petitioners, patiently trotting round in a circle from front to back, and reciting their prayers in this accomplishment of "the hundred turns." Just opposite, and close by, is the shrine itself. This is in part a massive store-house set back in the domestic structure, with the shrine of the Inari facing the visitor. The floor space at the sides and before it often is piled high with tubs of _shoyu_ and _saké_, with bundles of charcoal, such negotiable articles as the wealthier shopkeeper can offer to the mighty lady; and long tresses of hair of women too poor to offer anything else, or wise enough to know that a woman could make no greater sacrifice. And is not the object of their worship a woman? Numerous are these severed strands. Entering the shrine and passing the pleasant spoken warden at its entrance, peddling his charms and giving advice where often it is sadly needed--perhaps the more valuable of his two public duties--to the left within is the Oku-no-In, the inner shrine containing the _ihai_ or memorial tablet of O'Iwa. That the shrine is popular and wealthy; that the lady is feared, venerated, and her dreadful powers much sought after; this is plain to the eye in the crowded elaborateness of this inner holy place of the larger sacred structure. Now Echizenbori is not a particularly old quarter of the city. Long after Edo was established, the city, step by step, fought its way down to the river; filling in lagoons and swamps, and driving their waters into the canals which were to furnish very largely the means of communication for its traffic. Yotsuya on the contrary is old. Its poverty is of later date. In the Edo days it was a favourite site for the homes of _do[u]shin_, _yakunin_, and a whole herd of the minor officials who had the actual working of the great Tokugawa machine of government in their hands. In the maps of Ansei 4th year (1857) the shrine of the O'Iwa Inari figures in Samoncho[u], in its Teramachi; a small part of the great mass of red, indicating temples and shrines and their lands, which then covered a large part of Yotsuya. How then did it come to pass that the shrine was removed to this far off site in Echizenbori, with such incongruous surroundings? The explanation must be found in our story. When the Tenwa year period (1681-83) opened, long resident at Yotsuya Samoncho[u] had been Tamiya Matazaémon. By status he was a minor official or _do[u]shin_ under the Tokugawa administration. These _do[u]shin_ held highest rank of the permanent staff under the bureaucratic establishment; and on these men lay the main dependence for smoothness of working of the machinery of the Government. Matazaémon was the perfect type of the under-official of the day; smooth, civilly impertinent to his equals, harsh to his inferiors, and all unction and abjectness to his superiors. Indeed, he laid more stress on those immediately above him than on the more removed. To serve the greater lord he served his immediate officer, being careful to allow to the latter all the credit. No small part of his function was to see that ceremonial form and precedent were carried out to the letter. It was the accurate and ready knowledge of these which was of greatest import to his chief, indeed might save the latter from disaster. Matazaémon's readiness and conduct rendered him deservedly valued. Hence he enjoyed the double salary of thirty _tawara_ of rice, largely supplemented by gifts coming to him as teacher in _hanaiké_ (the art of flower arrangement) and of the _cha-no-yu_ (tea ceremony). He had a more than good house, for one of his class, facing on the wide Samoncho[u] road, and with a garden on the famous Teramachi or long street lined with temples and which runs eastward from that thoroughfare. The garden of Tamiya almost faced the entrance to the Gwansho[u]ji, which is one of the few relics of the time still extant. It was large enough to contain some fifteen or twenty fruit trees, mainly the _kaki_ or persimmon, for Matazaémon was of practical mind. Several cherry trees, however, periodically displayed their bloom against the rich dark green foliage of the fruit trees; and in one corner, to set forth the mystic qualities of a small Inari shrine relic of a former owner, were five or six extremely ancient, gnarled, and propped up plum trees, sufficient in number to cast their delicate perfume through garden and house in the second month (March). Such was the home of Matazaémon; later that of O'Iwa San. It was pretentious enough to make display with a large household. But the master of Tamiya was as close-fisted and hard and bitter as an unripe _biwa_ (medlar). His wealth was the large and unprofitable stone which lay within; the acid pulp, a shallow layer, all he had to give to society in his narrow minded adherence to official routine; the smooth, easily peeled skin the outward sign of his pretentions to social status and easily aroused acidity of temper. With most of his neighbours, and all his relatives, he had a standing quarrel. Secure in his lord's favour as an earnest officer, so little did he care for the dislike of the ward residents that he was ever at drawn swords with the head of his ward-association, Ito[u] Kwaiba. As for the relatives, they were only too ready to come to closer intimacy; and Matazaémon knew it. His household consisted of his wife O'Naka, his daughter O'Mino, and the man servant Densuké. The garden Matazaémon would allow no one to attend to but himself. The two women did all the work of the household which ordinarily would fall to woman-kind, with something more. Densuké performed the heavier tasks, accompanied his master on his outings, and represented his contribution to the service of the ward barrier, the O[u]kido[u], on the great Ko[u]shu[u]-Kaido[u] and just beyond the O[u]bangumi. The barrier cut off Yotsuya from the Naito[u]-Shinjuku district, and, as an entrance into Edo, was of considerable importance. When the time of service came Densuké appeared in full uniform and with his pike. A handsome young fellow of nineteen years, the women, especially O'Mino, saw to it that his appearance should be a credit to the House. His progress up the wide Samoncho[u], up to his disappearance into the great highway, was watched by O'Mino--and by the neighbours, who had much sharper eyes and tongues than Matazaémon and his wife. They marvelled. With ground for marvel. In the eyes of her parents O'Mino was the most beautiful creature ever created. Occasionally Matazaémon would venture on criticism. "Naka, something is to be said to Mino. Too much powder is used on the face. Unless the colour of the skin be very dark, the use of too much powder is not good. Mino is to be warned against excess." Thus spoke the official in his most official tone and manner. Wife and daughter heard and disobeyed; the wife because she was ruled by her daughter, and the daughter because she would emulate the fair skin of Densuké and be fairer in his eyes. O'Mino had suffered both from fate and fortune. She had been born ugly; with broad, flat face like unto the moon at full, or a dish. Her back was a little humped, her arms disproportionately long, losing in plumpness what they gained in extension. She seemed to have no breasts at all, the chest forming a concavity in correspondence to the convexity of the back, with a smoothness much like the inner surface of a bowl. This perhaps was no disadvantage--under the conditions. So much for fate. But fortune had been no kinder. "Blooming" into girlhood, she had been attacked by smallpox. Matazaémon was busy, and knew nothing of sick nursing. O'Naka was equally ignorant, though she was well intentioned. Of course the then serving wench knew no more than her mistress. O'Mino was allowed to claw her countenance and body, as the itching of the sores drove her nearly frantic. In fact, O'Naka in her charity aided her. The result was that she was most hideously pock-marked. Furthermore, the disease cost her an eye, leaving a cavity, a gaping and unsightly wound, comparable to the dumplings called _kuzumanju_, white puffy masses of rice dough with a depression in the centre marked by a dab of the dark-brown bean paste. The neighbours used to say that O'Mino was _nin san baké shichi_--that is, three parts human and seven parts apparition. The more critical reduced her humanity to the factor one. The children had no name for her but "Oni" (fiend). They had reason for this. They would not play with her, and treated her most cruelly. O'Mino, who was of no mild temperament, soon learned to retaliate by use of an unusually robust frame, to which was united by nature and circumstances her father's acidity of character. When the odds were not too great all the tears were not on O'Mino's side; but she suffered greatly, and learned with years that the Tamiya garden was her safest playground. O'Mino grew into a woman. Affection had to find some outlet. Not on the practical and very prosaic mother; not on the absorbed and crabbed father; but on Densuké, on the _samurai's_ attendant or _chu[u]gen_, it fell. All manner of little services were rendered to him; even such as would appropriately fall within his own performance. At first O'Mino sought out little missions for him to perform, out of the line of his usual duties, and well rewarded in coin. This was at his first appearance in the house. Then she grew bolder. Densuké found his clothing undergoing mysterious repairs and replacement. His washing, even down to the loin cloths, was undertaken by the Ojo[u]san. Densuké did not dare to question or thwart her. Any trifling fault O'Mino took on herself, as due to her meddling. She became bolder and bolder, and sought his assistance in her own duties, until finally they were as man and maid employed in the same house. Matazaémon noted little increases in the house expenses. O'Mino took these as due to her own extravagance. The father grunted a little at these unusual expenditures. "What goes out at one end must be cut off at the other end. Densuké, oil is very expensive. At night a light is not needed. Be sure, therefore, on going to bed to extinguish the light." Densuké at once obeyed his master's order; and that very night, for the first time, O'Mino boldly sought his couch. Confused, frightened, overpowered by a passionate woman, Densuké sinned against his lord, with his master's daughter as accomplice. Henceforth Densuké had what O'Mino was willing to give him. On Matazaémon's going forth to his duties, O'Mino, and O'Naka under her orders, did all his household work. The only return required was submission to the exigencies of the Ojo[u]san. This was no slight obligation. Densuké at times thought of escape, to his home at To[u]gané village in Kazusa, to his uncle Kyu[u]bei in the Kanda quarter of Edo. O'Mino seemed to divine his thoughts. She would overload him with favors; or openly express her purpose of following wherever he went in life. Kanda? Kyu[u]bei was a well-known hanger-on at the Tamiya. Matazaémon entered him up in his expense book at so much a year. To[u]gané? He could not get there except through Kyu[u]bei. Matazaémon had farms there, and the _nanushi_ or village bailiff was his servant. Besides, he would be a runaway. Matazaémon surely would come down on Kyu[u]bei as the security. So the months passed, and matters were allowed to drift. Perhaps it was some gossip of the quarter which reached the deaf ears of Matazaémon. As he was about to go forth one day he followed the figure of O'Mino sharply with his little eyes all screwed up. "Naka, there seems change in the figure of Mino. Surely the gossip of the neighbours as to Densuké is not true? Mino is said to harbour a child by him. In such case it would be necessary to kill them both. Warn Mino in time; a _chu[u]gen_ is not one to become the adopted son (_muko_) of the Tamiya. He is an excellent lad, and costs but little. His habits are not riotous. To dismiss him thus causelessly would not only be unjust, but to no profit. Mino giving heed to the warning, all will be well." With this the lord of the household stalked forth to the house entrance. Receiving his clogs from O'Mino, he stalked forth to his official attendance. The two women, prostrate in salutation at his exit, raised their heads to watch him stalk. It was a frightened face that O'Naka turned to her daughter. In whispering voice--"The honoured father's words have been heard? If not, it is to be said that gossip of the neighbourhood has come to his ears as to relations with Densuké. He notices that an _obi_ is not often worn; and when worn is soon discarded. However, a man's eye is not so apt in such matters. Even in this Naka cannot speak positively. Doubtless the report is not true." O'Mino, if ugly, was anything but obtuse. Her mother must know; and yet not know. "My honoured father does not consider the difference of age and status in Densuké. Densuké is but a boy. This Mino has passed her twenty-third year. Moreover, surely she deserves a better husband than a _chu[u]gen_. Least of all would she give her father cause for regret or painful thoughts. Can a woman be pregnant otherwise than by a man?" O'Mino, respectfully prostrate, with this raised her head. The two women looked each other in the face. Finally O'Naka said--"With joy is the answer heard. But Matazaémon San is of hasty temper. In his suspicions even he is to be avoided. However, the business of the house is to be performed. This will take the time until late in the day. Tradesmen may come for payments of the month. In the closet ten _ryo[u]_ in silver will be found. Here are the keys to the chests. It would be well to take an inventory of the effects. The winter is at hand. It is time to make warmer provision for it. Be sure to observe circumspection." With these words, and a sad look at her erring daughter, O'Naka donned street garb, threw a _haori_ (cloak) over her shoulders, climbed down into her clogs, and their patter soon disappeared down the street. Her departure was almost coincident with the reappearance of Densuké. His attendance on the master to the offices of the palace stables accomplished, for the time being he had returned. Thus did Matazaémon effect an outward state and an household economy. None too willing was the presence of Densuké. He was faithful in his way to O'Mino, and much afraid of her. Even in the most private intercourse to him she was the Ojo[u]san, the daughter of the House; but he had no other recourse than the Tamiya. Once assured of him, O'Mino had cut off all the previous flow of coin, and with it the means of his rare indiscretions at the Shinjuku pleasure quarter. Besides, their interviews took place in the darkness of night. In the daytime O'Naka usually was present, who, lacking other company, sought that of her daughter, and moreover was unwilling to be too complacent in the intrigue she saw going on. As soon as the sound of Densuké's steps was heard, O'Mino called him. There was a sharpness in her tone, a note of alarmed decision, that frightened and chilled him. Humbly he sought her presence. A glance showed the absence of O'Naka, yet as usual he prostrated himself in salutation. In that position he did not see her face. She said impatiently--"For salutation there is no time nor occasion. It is no longer the Ojo[u]san who speaks; it is the wife. My father knows all concerning this Mino and Densuké. On his return he is sure to take the occasion of the presence of both to kill us. It is his right and our duty to submit to his punishment. But to do so consigns the infant in the womb from darkness to darkness. This is too dreadful to contemplate. Unfilial though it be, we must run away. Make up your mind to do so." Densuké looked up. She was bent in meditation over this flight. The corners of the mouth widened out, the eyelid drooping more conspicuously than ever and forming a heavy fold over the empty socket, the bald brow, the scanty hair at the sides in disordered whisps and strands, all these made her a hideous mask. He could not endure the sight. Timidly he said--"Terrible news indeed! How has it happened? Surely, honoured lady, you have been very rash; nay, somewhat clumsy withal. Cannot women take their pleasure with whom they please without such dire results? Ah! Such luxury, such pleasant surroundings! All must be abandoned. This Densuké will seek his native village in Kazusa. And the Ojo[u]san whither will she go; what will she do?" Was the question asked in innocence, or in deepest guile? O'Mino could not have answered, well as she thought she knew Densuké. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He sprang up in fright, hardly knowing whether it was a demon, or O'Mino turned demon, who confronted him. Her mouth half open, her large, white, shining, even teeth all displayed, her single eye darting malignant gleams, and the empty socket and its fold quivering and shaking, she was a frightful object. "To speak of pleasure without the consequences, such talk is that of a fool. Densuké was taken for the relationship of the two worlds. Now you would abandon me. Very well--do so. But this Mino does not perish by her father's sword. The well is at hand. Within three days I shall reappear and hunt you out. Torn to pieces the wretched man shall die a miserable death. Better would it be now to die with Mino. A last salutation...." Two vigorous arms seized his neck. Densuké gave a cry of anguish as the sharp teeth marked the ear. Letting him go, she sprang to the _ro[u]ka_ (verandah). Frightened as he was, Densuké was too quick for her. He grasped her robe. "Nay! The Ojo[u]san must not act so desperately. Densuké spoke as one clumsy, and at a loss what to do ... yes ... we must run away ... there is the uncle, Kawai, in Kanda. To him Densuké will go, and there learn the will of Tamiya Dono." O'Mino's tragic attitude lapsed. At once she was the practical woman of the house. She gave thanks for her mother's foresight. "The escape is not as of those unprovided. Here are ten _ryo[u]_ in silver. A bundle is to be made of the clothing and other effects. This is to be carried by Densuké. And the uncle: Mino presenting herself for the first time as wife, a present is to be brought. What should it be?" She talked away, already busy with piling clothes, quilts (_futon_), toilet articles onto a large _furoshiki_ or square piece of cloth. Then she arrayed her person with greatest care, and in the soberest and richest fashion as the newly-wed wife. With time Densuké managed to get his breath amid this vortex of unexpected confusion into which he had been launched. "The uncle's teeth are bad. Soft _takuan_[3] is just the thing. For long he has eaten little else. Four or five stalks are sufficient." He went to the kitchen to secure this valued gift. Then he collected his own possessions. With the huge bundle of the _furoshiki_ on his shoulders; with straw raincoat, sun hat, clogs for wet and dry weather, piled on the top, and the stalks of the _takuan_ dangling down; "it was just as if they were running away from a fire." As Densuké departed O'Mino closely observed him. He was too subdued, too scared to give her anxiety. Later she left the house to join him at the Hanzo[u]-bashi, far enough removed from Yotsuya. It was then Tenwa, 2nd year, 11th month (December, 1682). CHAPTER II KAWAI SAN OF KANDU KU This uncle of Densuké, Kawai Kyu[u]bei by name, was a rice dealer, with a shop in Matsudacho[u] of the Kanda district. The distance to go was far. As with all ladies, O'Mino kept Densuké waiting long at the Hanzo[u]-bashi. Indeed, there was much romance about this ugly, neglected, hard girl. She waited until the sound of O'Naka's clogs was heard. Then she halted at the corner of Teramachi until she could see her mother's figure in the dusk; see it disappear into the house. When she went down the street toward the Samégabashi she was crying. It was late therefore--after the hour of the pig (9 P.M.)--when the pair reached Kanda. The business of the day was long over in this business section of Edo. The houses were tightly closed. On reaching the entrance of Kyu[u]bei's house said Densuké--"Ojo[u]san, condescend to wait here for a moment. The uncle is to be informed. Deign to have an eye to the _furoshiki_. Please don't let the dogs bite into or insult the _takuan_." He pounded on the door. Said a voice within--"Obasan (Auntie)! Obasan! Someone knocks. Please go and open for them." The more quavering and softer tones of an old woman made answer--"No, it is not my turn and time to go to the door. Get up; and first make inquiry before entrance is allowed. With little to lose, loss is much felt. Ah! Tamiya Dono in the Yotsuya has been sadly neglected." The scolding tones hummed on. Grumbling, the old man was lighting a rush. "'Tis agreed; 'tis agreed. To-morrow without fail this Kyu[u]bei visits Tamiya. Ah! It is no jest to go to that house. Not only is the distance great, but...." He had the door open, and his mouth too. "Densuké! Graceless fellow! But what are you doing here, and at this hour? No; the luck is good. There is a big bundle with you, a huge bundle." He spied the _takuan_ and his face broadened into a smile. "Ah! If dismissed, it has been with honour. Doubtless the _takuan_ is for this Kyu[u]bei. Thanks are felt. But is all this stuff Densuké's? He has not stolen it? Doubtless a woman is at the bottom of the affair. Never mind; an opportunity presents itself to offer you as _muko_--at the Tatsuya in Yokomachi. Of late a boy has been hoped for, but another girl presented herself. A _muko_ now will be welcome. The wife is getting past child-bearing, and there is little hope of a son. The Tatsuya girl is just the thing. In a few months she will be fit to be a wife. She...." Densuké edged a word into this stream. "The honoured uncle is right. The cause of Densuké's appearance is a woman." The old man made a face. Said he--"Well, in such a case it is good to be out of it. This Kyu[u]bei has heard talk of Densuké--and of all things with the Ojo[u]san! That would be terrible indeed. But how is the Oni (demon)? What a sight she is! Bald, one-eyed, hairless, with a face like a dish and no nose--Kyu[u]bei came suddenly on her at dusk in the Yotsuya. Iya! It was cold feet and chills for him for the space of seven days. It is that which keeps Kyu[u]bei from Yotsuya, although a little aid would go far. The last dealings in rice notes were not favourable. Besides, account is soon to be rendered to Tamiya Dono. But though wicked of temper and ugly, O'Mino San is rich. Even for the demon in time a good match will be found. She will be the wife of an honoured _kenin_ (vassal), and the husband will buy _geisha_ and _joro[u]_ with the money. Such is the expectation of Tamiya Dono. Don't allow any trifling there. Remember that she is the daughter of a _go-kenin_. They talk of Densuké in the Yotsuya. Of course it is all talk. Don't allow it to happen." Densuké found an opening. The words meant one thing; the expression another. "It is not _going_ to happen." Kyu[u]bei looked at him aghast as he took in the meaning. "What! With the demon? Densuké has committed the carnal sin with the demon? Oh, you filthy scoundrel! Rash, inconsiderate boy! Obasan! Obasan!... What did she pay you for the deed?... This low fellow Densuké, this foolish rascal of a nephew, has been caught in fornication with the demon.... What a fool! How is it that death has been escaped? And you have run away. Doubtless a pregnancy has followed. After putting his daughter to death Tamiya Dono will surely hunt out Densuké. Or perhaps keep O'Mino San until he catches the interloper. Sinning together, both will die together. Ah! To cross the Sanzu no Kawa, to climb the Shide no Yama, with the demon as company: terrific! It is terrific! And what has become of her? Why fall into such a trap, with a woman old and ugly? Her riches are not for you. Caught here, the _tatami_ of Kyu[u]bei will be spoiled."[4] Densuké countered. He spoke in the old man's ear. "Refusing consent, she threatened to kill herself and haunt this Densuké as O'Baké (apparition). The Ojisan (uncle) has seen the Ojo[u]san. Would he be haunted by her, be seized and killed with torture?... And then--here she stands, just at the door." The old man spluttered, and gasped, and went on his nose in abject salutation--"Oh, the fool!... the Ojo[u]san is here in person ... he would trifle with the devil!... the low rascal would seduce the honoured daughter of Tamiya ... put ten hags in a row and pick out the worst ... will the Ojo[u]san condescend to honour Kyu[u]bei's place.... Oh! She's a very O'Baké already. Pregnancy with a beautiful woman is bad enough. With this demon it makes her an apparition ... condescend to enter; deign to enter." O'Mino slowly came forward. That what had been said by the rash and unconscious Kyu[u]bei had escaped her ear was unlikely. The humility of demeanor hardly veiled the offended dignity of her approach. "Densuké has spoken truth. We come as husband and wife. Condescend to give shelter for the time being, and become the intercessor with Tamiya Dono. Such is the prayer of this Mino." As she spoke she bowed low on the _tatami_ (mats). Kyu[u]bei caught the hint; for if she had heard the talk of Densuké, she had assuredly heard his still louder ejaculations and ill-timed wit. The Obasan was in a rage at him. Taking the conduct of affairs in her own hand--"Condescend to make this poor dwelling a home for as long as desired. Plainly the visitors have not come empty handed. Ma! Ma! 'Tis like an escape from a fire. Densuké is a strong lad to shoulder such a burden. But he always has been something of an ass. As for Matazaémon Dono, to-morrow the Ojisan shall attend to the affair, and see what is to be expected. Meanwhile, deign to be as in Samoncho[u] itself." The kindly old woman pushed Kyu[u]bei and his clumsy apologies out of the way. She busied herself about O'Mino. The two women understood each other. The varied contents of the _furoshiki_ were quickly stowed away. A little supper was prepared for the hungry fugitives. Kyu[u]bei sat by, his eyes dazzled by the wealth of goods displayed, and his nostrils shifting under the acrid perfume of the _takuan_ and remembrance of his stupidity. The next morning Kyu[u]bei was up betimes. Matazaémon was no dawdler. It was best to catch him satisfied with the morning meal, and perhaps beset by the night's regret over the loss of his daughter. In no way was it a pleasant mission. Kyu[u]bei's pace became a crawl as he approached the garden gate on Teramachi. He put in an appearance at the kitchen side. O'Naka was here established, engaged in her duties and surely awaiting him. At sight of him she burst into what was half laugh and half tears. "Ah! It is Kyu[u]bei San. Doubtless he comes on the part of Mino and Densuké. It is kind of Kyu[u]bei to befriend them. The Danna (master) is very angry indeed. An only daughter, and one on whom he depended for a _muko_, he is much upset. Please go in and talk with him. Show anger at the runaways. To agree with him may somewhat soothe his passion. Condescend so to act." Kyu[u]bei winked. And turn some of this anger on himself? Well, agreement might rouse the spirit of contradiction in Tamiya Dono. It was a characteristic of this hide-bound official. Matazaémon was drinking the last sips of tea from his rice bowl when the _sho[u]ji_ were gently pushed apart, and the head of Kyu[u]bei inserted in the opening. At first he paid no attention. Then as one in haste--"Ah! Is it Kyu[u]bei? He comes early to-day--and hardly to apply for anything. The rice notes are not yet due for some weeks." His tone was grim; the usual indifferent benevolence of demeanor toward a townsman was conspicuously absent. Kyu[u]bei felt chilled. Densuké must not sacrifice his good uncle to his own folly. Said Kyu[u]bei--"Yet it is to seek the honoured benevolence of Tamiya Dono that Kyu[u]bei comes." Matazaémon turned sharp around toward him. Frightened, the townsman continued--"Densuké has acted very wickedly. The low, lascivious rascal has dared to seduce the honoured daughter of the House. Both are now harboured at the house of this Kyu[u]bei, who now makes report. Their lives are in the hand of Tamiya Dono. But Kyu[u]bei would make earnest plea for delay. O'Mino San being pregnant, the child would be sent from darkness to darkness--a terrible fate. May it be condescended to show the honoured mercy and benevolence. Evil and unfilial though the action of the two has been, yet 'benevolence weighs the offence; justice possesses two qualities.' Such are the words of Ko[u]shi (Confucius)." The eyes of Matazaémon twinkled. He had heard that Kyu[u]bei was on the verge of shaving his head (turning priest). Truly the townsman was profitting by the exhortations of his teacher. After a time he said--"The memory of Kyu[u]bei is excellent. Don't let it fail him on the present occasion. For such a deed as has been committed the punishment is death, meted out by the hand of this Matazaémon. The fact ascertained, it was intended to kill them both. The flight of Mino and Densuké has altered the complexion of the affair. It is no longer necessary to inflict the extreme penalty. O'Mino is disowned for seven births. Neither she nor Densuké is to appear before this Matazaémon. If the talk of the ward be true, in exchange for a loyal service Densuké has secured a beautiful bride. There can be no regrets." Then, taking a sprightly and jeering air, "But this Kyu[u]bei has been the one to exercise benevolence. Matazaémon now learns that the two runaways have been received by him. Entertain them well; entertain them well. Thanks are due to Kyu[u]bei San--from them. Doubtless he is much occupied with his guests. Less will be seen of him in Yotsuya.... But official duties press. This Matazaémon must leave. Don't be in haste. Stay and take some tea.... Naka! Naka! Tea for Kyu[u]bei San; the _haori_ (cloak) of Matazaémon.... _Sayonara_.... Ah! The rice notes this Matazaémon took up for Kyu[u]bei San, they fall due with the passage of the weeks. But Kyu[u]bei is one who always meets his obligations. As to that there is no anxiety." With this last fling the prostrate Kyu[u]bei heard the sound of the clogs of Matazaémon on the flagged walk outside. A departing warning to O'Naka as to the tea, and steps were heard near-by. He raised his head, to confront the mistress of the house. O'Naka spoke with tears in her eyes--a salve to the alarmed and wounded feelings of Kyu[u]bei. "Don't be frightened. After all Matazaémon is a _samurai_. To press Kyu[u]bei, or any tradesman, is beyond him. But this Naka cannot see her daughter! To add to his anger would bring disaster on her and the unborn child. Alas! Anyhow, give Mino this money; and these articles of value, properly her own. Her mirror has been forgotten in the hasty flight." O'Naka brought forth one of those elaborate polished silver surfaces, used by the ladies of Nippon in these later luxurious days of the Sho[u]gunate. It was only now that it became the property of O'Mino. It was part of the wedding outfit of O'Naka herself. With this little fiction the mother continued--"When the child is born allow the grandmother at least a distant sight of it. Perhaps it will resemble Tamiya; be like its mother, and soften a father's heart." Now she wept bitterly; and Kyu[u]bei wept with her--bitterly. "Like the mother! The Buddhas of Daienji[5] would indeed weep at the appearance of such a monster." This was his thought; not expressed with the humble gratitude, prostration, and promises which he fully intended to keep. Kyu[u]bei reverentially accepted the mirror, the goods, the money. Taking his leave of Yotsuya--a long one he feared--with sighs he set out for Kanda. Here he made his report. Said the old townsman with severity--"The will of the parent is not to be disobeyed. It is the duty of this Kyu[u]bei to see to its performance." He had O'Naka more in mind than the master of Tamiya. O'Mino might yet be the goose to lay golden eggs. A goose of such plumage! Kyu[u]bei made a wry face in the darkness of the corridor. CHAPTER III TAKAHASHI DAIHACHIRO[U] Some means of support had to be found. Employed in a _kenin's_ house, and leaving it under such conditions, kindred occupation was out of the question. There was a sort of black list among these officials to cover all grades of their service. Time and the host of servants of some great House would get the lad back into the only occupation he understood. Trusting to some such accident of fortune, Kyu[u]bei made Densuké his agent on commission. Densuké was no idler. Kyu[u]bei managed to meet the Tamiya security for his loans, largely through the efforts of the younger man. The married couple at this time set up their establishment in Goro[u]beicho[u] of Kyo[u]bashi Ku. Coming and going, often with no definite task in hand, Densuké to all appearance was an out-and-out idler. For the first time released from the trammels of her class, O'Mino could attend the theatres and farce shows of the capital. She delighted in acting this part of a tradesman's wife. Moreover she was very sure of not meeting with Matazaémon, of whom she was in great fear. Bound to the _formulæ_ of his class, her father might feel bound to cut her down on sight. One day Densuké was idling and hanging over the parapet of the Nihonbashi. Some fishermen were violently quarrelling in the fish market on the bank just below the bridge. As he looked on with interest a hand was laid on his shoulder. Turning, he saw a man, partly in the dress of a _chu[u]gen_, partly in that of a menial attendant of one of the larger _yashiki_ (nobleman's mansion). Scars of burns on his hands and arms, patches of rice flour and bran, showed that he was a cook. His eye was severe and his manner abrupt as he rebuked Densuké. "An idle fellow! This Taro[u]bei never fails to come across Densuké as an idler, or on the way to Asakusa with the worthy wife. Is he fit for nothing?" Densuké was a mild man. To this man with a grievance his answer was soft. Besides he had no liking for the cook's knife stuck in the girdle, and handy to carve fish or flesh. He said--"Perchance the idleness is more in appearance than fact. Buying and selling on commission the task is an irregular one. It is true, however, that this Densuké has no settled labour. Alas! Former days in the service of a _samurai_ are much to be regretted."--"Can you cook rice?" was the abrupt interruption. "This Densuké knows the 'Sanryaku' fairly well. Is more needed?" The man looked at him dumbfounded. "The 'Sanryaku'--what's that?"--"Knowledge of the 'Sanryaku' enables one to meet all the requirements of a _bushi_ (knight).[6] At the school in Kazusa To[u]gané the priest who taught this Densuké, at one time a _samurai_, was far more taken with the 'Sanryaku' than with the _Sutra_ (Scripture); the lessons taught applied more to Bushido[u] (the knight's way) than to Butsudo[u] (the way of the Buddha).... But to the point; this Densuké for three years cooked the rice at Tamiya in Yotsuya. First there is the _toro-toro_ of bubbling water; then the _biri-biri_, as what little remains passes as steam through the rice grains. Then the sharp whistling cry of a baby from the pot on the slow fire (_murashite_). The task is done, and the vessel is removed from the stove." The man looked with respect on this learned cook. Said he--"Densuké is the man. Taro[u]bei must leave the kitchen of Geishu[u] Sama at once. The mother is ill in Aki province. A substitute is to be found. The salary--is next to nothing; but the perquisites are numerous, and the food ample to feed several Densuké and their wives. Deign to accept." Densuké did not hesitate--"The obligation lies with Densuké. But how secure the position? There is Tamiya...." The man laughed. "There are many Densuké in Edo; and no connection between the _yashiki_ of Matsudaira Aki no Kami and the house of a _do[u]shin_ in Yotsuya. There is small likelihood of meeting old acquaintances. Be sure to remember that it is Densuké of Kyo[u]bashi; not Densuké of Yotsuya. This pass will answer to the gate-man. Substitutes are common. Whether it be Densuké or Taro[u]bei who cooks the rice makes no difference; provided the rice be well cooked. Taro[u]bei's service lies elsewhere; to Densuké San deep his obligation." He held out the pass, and Densuké took it. With mutual salutation and joy in heart they parted. Densuké betook himself to the _yashiki_ of Matsudaira Aki no Kami at Kasumigaseki. No difficulties were encountered. Taro[u]bei was not so superlative as a cook that the substitute could not be better than the original. At this place Densuké acted the part of the _komatsukibatta_. This is a narrow brown weevil, some three parts of an inch in length, and which stands on its head making the repeated movements of _o'jigi_, much as at a ceremonial encounter in Nippon. Densuké was not long in becoming well liked. He was ready to run errands for all, outside of the hours of his duties. From those higher up in the _yashiki_ these errands brought him coin. Every month he could bring O'Mino twenty to thirty _mon_ in "cash"; apart from the ample rations of rice and _daikon_ bestowed on the kitchen staff. Nay: as cook at times fish could not be allowed to spoil, and fell to the perquisites of Densuké. Thus time passed; and with it the delivery of O'Mino, and the crisis in the affairs of Densuké approached. Now Geishu[u] Sama[7] was a fourth month _daimyo[u]_. Hence with the iris blossoms he took his departure from Edo to the government of his fief in Aki province. The Sakuji Machibugyo[u], one Takahashi Daihachiro[u], plead illness on this occasion of the exodus. As unable to accompany his lord he remained in Edo. On plea of convenience he established himself in the abandoned quarters of the _ashigaru_ or common soldiers, situated right over Densuké's cooking stoves. Entirely removed from the bustle of the household, except during Densuké's now rare attendance, he secured complete isolation and quiet. Densuké went on cooking for Takahashi Sama, just as if it had been for the whole military household. Daihachiro[u] was a forbidding kind of man; and it was with no amiable look that he greeted Densuké when the latter appeared very late to prepare the meal. It being the 5th month 5th day (the _sekku_) of Tenwa 3rd year (30th May, 1683), perhaps he suspected Densuké of preparation for, and participation in, the great festival which was in progress. "Densuké is very late. This Daihachiro[u] has made the trial; to find out that he is no cook. Indeed the right hand has been severely burnt. A cook should be on time--for the meal, not the _matsuri_." Densuké was all apology--"Nay, Danna Sama; it is not the festival which has detained Densuké. An infant was expected to-day by the wife. Hence Densuké's neglect. Deign to pardon him."--"A baby being born is no reason why Daihachiro[u] should starve. Prepare the meal in haste. The rice is to be soft; and please see that the fish also is soft. Make the sauce not too sharp. It would give great trouble to make the bath in the quarters. In Owarimachi, or Kubomachi, good bath-houses are to be found." Densuké took the hint. At once he recommended one he thought befitting the great man's greatness. "Well: _Sayonara_. See that the meal is ready by the return." Off stalked Takahashi Daihachiro[u], towel dangling from his hand, and toothbrush and bran bag in his bosom. Densuké gave a sigh of relief as he left the court. Daihachiro[u] often employed him on missions, and was never particularly generous even when the transaction was decidedly shady. Densuké was dreadfully afraid of him. Somehow he felt as if Daihachiro[u] was Fate--his fate. Turning to his stoves, the pots and the pans, the meal soon was in successful preparation. As Densuké lifted the cover to inspect the rice--splash! A great red spot spread in widening circle over the white mass. In fright Densuké clapped on the lid of the pot. He looked upward, to locate this unusual condiment to his provision. On his forehead he received in person a second consignment. Applying his finger to his head, and then to his nose--"Blood! Ah! O'Také's fierce cat has caught a rat and is chewing it in the room above. How vexatious! If the Danna should find out...." Hastily he tried to shove his equipment to one side. This would not do. The massive stone blocks forming the furnace were too heavy for Densuké to move unaided. Somewhat helpless he looked around. The rice was almost done; ready for the process of _murashité_, or simmering over the slow fire. The fish, carefully prepared, as yet was to be cooked. All was to be ready against the return of Daihachiro[u] Sama. Ah! Again the dropping began. As finding some channel in the rough boarding of the ceiling it came fast. His kitchen began to look like the place where the Eta (outcasts) slaughter beasts. Densuké shuddered. Circumstances, the results involved, make the timid brave. Grasping a pole Densuké started up the ladder leading to the loft and the quarters of the _ashigaru_. Arrived at the top his eyes took in the poor apartment. The rafters and beams of a low-cast roof; six wretched (Loo-choo) mats on the floor, for the men to sit, and sleep, and live upon; such its bare equipment. In the middle of the mats was a great red stain. Densuké was at once attracted to it. "A cat would eat a rat; but it would not wipe up the blood." His eyes were caught by the straw basket used to store away the raincoats. This was all stained red at the bottom. Going close up he found it was wet. Perhaps the cat was at work inside. Densuké raised the cover and looked in. In alarm he sprang back. On the trunk and limbs of a body was placed a freshly severed head. Without replacing the cover, with pole uplifted over his head in defence, Densuké backed toward the ladder. His one idea was to flee this _yashiki_. As he reached the top of the steps the voice of Daihachiro[u] was heard below--"A pest on such filthy bath-houses; and filthier patrons.... What! No rice yet, Densuké? Ah! Where is the fellow?" Densuké looked down, to meet the altered countenance of Daihachiro[u] looking up. He retreated as the latter sprang up the ladder. Daihachiro[u] gave a rapid glance. He saw the raised cover of the basket. The next moment the bosom of Densuké's dress was harshly grasped, and he himself was forced down on the floor. Gloomily Daihachiro[u] regarded him--"Rash and curious fellow! Why not keep to your pots and pans? Densuké loses his life; and Daihachiro[u] a fool for a cook." He had drawn his sword to strike. Densuké clung to his knees in petition--"Pardon, master! Pardon! This Densuké is no idle gossip. The dripping blood threatened to spoil the meal. Thinking the cat was eating a rat, fearing the anger of the Danna Sama if the meal had to be re-cooked, Densuké came up here to chase the animal away. Thus the crime was discovered...."--"Crime!" thundered Daihachiro[u]. "Ah! This intermeddler must certainly die. By the word of a _samurai_...." In his terror Densuké almost put his hand over the irrevocable sentence. He spoke with life at stake. "Deign, master, to pardon Densuké. He has committed no offence; knows of no offence in others. Densuké has seen nothing. Life is a jewel, to be kept at any cost. Densuké is far too insignificant to deserve the anger of Takahashi Sama." He grovelled in the abject terror of his petition. Takahashi Daihachiro[u] hesitated. An idea seemed to occur to him, at sight of the man's fear-struck state. He smiled grimly. "Densuké saw the head?"--"'Tis so," admitted Densuké. "But to see a head means nothing." Daihachiro[u] dragged him over to the raincoat basket. Holding him down, he grasped the head by the cue and lifted it out. "Look!" Densuké gave a cry of surprise at sight of the features of a once neighbour. "It is the head of Iséya Jusuké, the money lender of Hacho[u]bori; a hard man. Surely the Danna...."--"Just so," replied Daihachiro[u], carelessly throwing the mortuary relic back into the basket. "Borrowing five _ryo[u]_, in six months with the interest the sum now due is twenty-five _ryo[u]_. Pleading illness Daihachiro[u] remained in Edo, to try and soften the usurer. He threatened a report to my lord; grew insolent beyond measure. The sword drawn, he was killed forthwith.... Here Densuké finds his use and saves his life. This body is an awkward impediment. Densuké must take and cast it away. Otherwise, a second head is added to this first. With one already to dispose of a second gives no difficulty. Decide: is it agreed? Moreover there will be payment." He took out a money belt (_do[u]maki_), that of Jusuké. Densuké recognized it. Daihachiro[u] had robbed Jusuké, after killing him. Lovingly he ran the golden _ryo[u]_ through his fingers. Seventy of them Densuké counted. Daihachiro[u] picked out three _ryo[u]_. "Here is payment. Life is spared, and it is agreed to cast away the body." Stammered Densuké--"On the rubbish heap?" Daihachiro[u] looked at him--"You fool! Why not proclaim that Densuké murdered Jusuké? Once the gate is passed--and this Daihachiro[u] goes in company so far--it is Densuké who is the murderer of Jusuké. Remain in this place until night. Then off with the body; pitch it into the ditch of Kuroda Ke, or that of Saio[u] Dono. Daihachiro[u] now takes his meal. There is nothing wrong with it?" He looked meaningly at Densuké. The latter, with eyes on the shining sword, at once denied all defilement. He now plumed himself on the care taken of the Danna's interests. Daihachiro[u] descended; to feed at ease and keep watch over the unwilling Densuké. In the 5th month (June) the days are long. Densuké was a coward; and for company had the corpse of the murdered Jusuké. To the poor cook the time passed was torture. He was continually going to the stair and calling down--"Danna Sama, has the time come?... Ah! The sky is light. The streets at night will be full of people with lanterns. Plainly O'Tento[u] Sama (the Sun) has forgotten to decline in the West. Alas! This Densuké is most unlucky." At last the hour of the dog was passing (7-9 P.M.). Daihachiro[u] appeared. "Now for the corpse! Wrap it up in this matting.... Coward! Is Densuké afraid of a dead man?" He took the body and cut the tendons of arms and legs. Then he placed the head on the belly. Doubling the limbs over the body so as to hold the head he wrapped the matting around the whole. The outside he covered with some red raincoats--"in case of accidental stains." Then he strongly roped the whole together. He stood back to inspect a truly admirable job. Densuké wondered how many usurers Daihachiro[u] had thus disposed of. His speculations were interrupted. Everything was ready. "Now! the loan of Densuké's back." Groaned Densuké--"Danna Sama, a request."--"What?" asked Daihachiro[u]. "Condescend to put a board between the body of Densuké and that of Jusuké. The head might seize and bite me with its teeth." Daihachiro[u] snorted with laughter, contempt, and anger mixed. "What a cowardly rascal you are! Off with it as it is." Said Densuké respectfully and firmly--"The task is that of Densuké. Condescend so far to favour him." His obvious terror threatened collapse even of the influence of Daihachiro[u]. An old remnant of the back of a corselet was at hand. Said Daihachiro[u]--"This is still better. It is metal. In it goes. Now off with you." Stalking along in the rear of the unfortunate cook, Daihachiro[u] kept within easy distance of a sword blow. At the gate he said--"Pray grant passage. Densuké takes washing of this Daihachiro[u]--bed quilts and _futon_ to be renovated."--"Respectfully heard and understood." The gate-man let fall the bar and stood aside. Densuké passed into the street. A little way off he looked around. Takahashi Daihachiro[u] had disappeared. Now indeed it was an affair between Densuké and Jusuké.[8] CHAPTER IV THE APPEARANCE OF O'IWA SAN Shouldering his pack Densuké made off down the broad space lined by the white walls of the _yashiki_. In this quarter of the _bushi_ the highway was not crowded with citizens and their lanterns. Densuké had high hopes of an early disposition of the incubus. He approached the ditch which protected the wall of the _yashiki_ of Prince Kuroda. When about to put down the bundle a hail reached him from the _samurai_ on guard at the Kuroda gate. "Heigh there, rascal! Wait!" But Densuké did not wait. In terror he gave the load a shift on his shoulder and started off almost at a run. On doing so there was a movement within. The cold sweat stood out on the unhappy man's forehead. A moment, and would the teeth of Jusuké be fastened in his shoulder? "Ah! Jusuké San! Good neighbour! This Densuké is but the wretched agent. 'Tis Daihachiro[u] Sama who killed Jusuké. Deign to pursue and haunt Takahashi Sama. Jusuké San! Jusuké San!" Fright gave him strength and boldness. The Tora no Mon (Tiger gate) of the castle should be the place of disposal. Here the ditch was deep and dark. But to its very edge swarmed the people with their lanterns on this night of festival in early summer. The moor of Kubomachi was his next goal. At this period it really was open ground. With a sigh of relief Densuké let the bundle slip from his now weary shoulders. Alive he would have laughed at the idea of carrying the portly Jusuké. Yet here the usurer bestrode him, far heavier weight than on other unfortunate clients. "Let's have a look at him; address him face to face." His hand was on the knot, when a woman's voice spoke in his ear. Densuké did not wait to ascertain the nature of her solicitation. He sped away into the darkness, toward the distant city. Without goal, he found himself at Shiodomé.[9] Crossing the Shimbashi he entered on the crowded and lighted Owaricho[u]. It was only the hour of the pig (9 P.M.), and the house lanterns as yet burned brightly. He hesitated, with the idea of turning toward Shiba, of trying his luck in this still rustic district; or on the seashore, not far off. A man close by greeted him. "Iya! Densuké San at last is found. The honoured wife suffers great anxiety. Thinking that the festival might be the attraction this Goémon set out to find you. Deign to hasten at once to Goro[u]beicho[u]." Densuké shifted his burden away from the man. Did it not already somewhat taint the air? His nostrils were wide open in alarmed inquiry. He made excuses. With his heavy pack he would follow after slowly. He was overwhelmed by his neighbour's kindness. Goémon offered to share the work. Densuké did more than refuse. Unable to shake off his companion in stolid desperation he took his way to his home in the tenement (_nagaya_). "Tadaima" (just now--present), he called from the doorway. Entering the shabby room he put down the _furoshiki_ in a distant corner. Going to the Butsudan, or house altar, at once he lit the lamps. O'Mino eyed him with astonishment. "What's that?" she asked, pointing to the bundle--"Washing of Daihachiro[u] Sama"--"But Mino is ill. So situated she cannot do washing. How negligent!"--"It makes no matter," replied Densuké recklessly. O'Mino did not like the tone of his voice. She eyed him sharply. Then more pressing matters urged. "Weary as you are it is to be regretted; but money must be in hand, for the midwife and other expenses. A few hours, and this Mino will be unable to leave her bed--for three turns (weeks). There is cooking and washing to be done. Please go to Kyu[u]bei San and ask the loan of a _ryo[u]_. Perhaps he will give half."--"He will give nothing," was the surly reply of Densuké. "Of loans he has grown tired of late. As the uncle is the only stay in dire necessity care must be taken not to offend. Moreover, the loan is unnecessary. Here are three _ryo[u]_." He brought out the shining oblong pieces. O'Mino's eyes were bright with terror. "Ah! Has Densuké turned thief? How was this money secured? What has happened? Why so late in returning?" But Densuké was made confident and ready of tongue by the physical helplessness of O'Mino. "Don't be alarmed. Densuké is neither thief nor murderer. He is no Shirai Gompachi. Perhaps there is a corpse within, not washing. Would the Ojo[u]san see a head, arms, legs, freshly severed?" He laughed harshly as she turned her head from him to the bundle, then back again. "This money was given to Densuké by Takahashi Sama; in return for faithful service in an important matter. Don't be frightened. It has been honestly earned." Said O'Mino, almost to herself--"But Daihachiro[u] Sama is not one to give such a sum as three _ryo[u]_. He is always in debt. The wife of Jusuké San complains of his delays with her husband. However...." Confidence restored, she bade Densuké put the money in the drawer of the toilet stand. Then he was to prepare some food; for themselves, and for the neighbours ready to assist at the expected birth. Densuké did so, his eyes shifting from O'Mino to the stove, from the stove to the deadly bundle. Finally he removed the _furoshiki_ to their outer room, mumbling some excuse as to the foulness of a buck-basket. He returned to his cooking. Barely tasting some food O'Mino soon was sound asleep. Densuké observed her. "Ugly, rich, a very _O'Baké_ in appearance is the Ojo[u]san; and yet she takes as husband a spiritless creature, such as is this Densuké. Is it good or bad fortune? How grateful would be her advice." He went to bed himself in the outer room; to spend a hideous night of nightmare in company with the dead Jusuké, who now did taint the air with that indefinable pollution of even the freshest corpse. Wild visions floated through the brain of Densuké. The neighbours would assemble. The food was ready. Ah! Here comes the wife of Jusuké San. She demands her husband. A moment, and Densuké was stealing from the house entrance into the darkness. The river? Ah! That was it. The canal of Hacho[u]bori was close at hand to Jusuké's own home. It would float him to his very door. Densuké soon saw himself at the river bank. No one was at hand. Splash! In went the foul burden. There it was again. But now it was Jusuké in person. "Jusuké San! Jusuké San! Pardon! 'Twas not this Densuké who killed you. Seek vengeance of Daihachiro[u] Sama. He is the murderer." In his terror he lost all fear of being heard. He shouted at the top of his lungs. But Jusuké laid a heavy hand on him. With one long drawn out groan Densuké--awoke. O'Mino was leaning close over him, her face spectre-like with pain. Seeing that he was awake she took away her hand. "What is the matter with you? All night you have been shouting and mumbling in sleep. Just now it was 'Jusuké San! Jusuké San! Daihachiro[u] Sama!' It is indeed a matter of Jusuké San. The time of Mino is at hand; the pains begin. Go at once to the house of Jusuké, and ask his wife O'Yoshi to condescend her aid." Densuké sprang up. An idea flashed into his mind. He would go to Hacho[u]bori and make full confession. Which was the most important? O'Yoshi as confessor or as midwife? With his brain thus puzzled over an answer he started off. His last injunction to O'Mino was--"by no means meddle with the bundle of Daihachiro[u] Sama." There could have been no more direct invitation to her to do so. For a short time O'Mino did nothing but eye the strange bundle. Then she was on her knees before it, examining it. "Rain coats as wrapping! And tied with rope: a queer kind of washing. What a strange odour! Pickled _daikon_ (_nukamisozuké_)?" She shook it. Something inside went _gotsu-gotsu_. This was too much for her curiosity. Her old suspicion came back, that Densuké had turned robber. She poked a little hole in the straw wrapping. Some kind of cloth covering was within; a _kimono_ without doubt. Through its tissue something shone white. The kitchen knife was close at hand on the brazier (_hibachi_). She reached out, and in a moment the rope was severed. "Oya! Oya!" Out rolled a head. An arm, two helpless flexible legs were extended before her. With a scream of horror O'Mino fell flat on her back. Lying stretched out she uttered one sharp cry after another. The neighbouring wives came hurrying in, a stream of humanity. "What is wrong? A young wife screams not without cause. Oya! Oya! O'Mino San has given birth to a baby and a head. Iya! Head, limbs, body--a monstrous parturition!" With the woman groaning in the pain of her delivery, the wives in confusion, children flying to summon the men folk, the whole district was in an uproar. In the midst of the confusion arrived Densuké and the wife of Jusuké. As yet he had not found courage to confess. He was still "deciding." A neighbour greeted him--"Densuké San! Strange things have happened to O'Mino San. She has given birth to a head and a baby at the same time. Hasten, Densuké San! Hasten!" Densuké did hasten; but it was to disappear down the nearest byway in headlong flight. Amazed and confounded the wife of Jusuké proceeded alone to the house; as the first thing to set eyes on the head of her husband, eyes still open and glaring in death. With a cry she precipitated herself upon it; took it in her arms. The midwife, summoned in haste, parted infant from mother. Thus did O'Iwa San come forth into the world. The affair was grave. The _kenshi_ (coroner) was soon on the scene. O'Mino with feeble voice told what she knew. "Deign to examine into the affair beyond the surface. My husband Densuké is not the man to commit this crime. Ask the neighbours, who know him. Last night he brought three _ryo[u]_, given him by Takahashi Daihachiro[u] Sama, the Sakuji Machibugyo[u] of Geishu[u] Ko[u]. He said that it was for important service rendered. There is no doubt that Takahashi San is the murderer. Deign to examine well; show benevolence.... Ah! This Mino shall have vengeance. For seven lives Daihachiro[u] shall be pursued...." Her eyes became injected with blood. Her breast heaved painfully in the attempt to get air. The women around her gave cries of alarm. O'Mino sank back in a pool of blood. She had died in the midst of her curse. Said one present--"This To[u]kichi would not be the honoured Sakuji Sama; nay, not for the full seven existences in human form." The others felt as he did. Even the _kenshi_ drew up his shoulders a little at the frightful mask of the dead woman's face. He could learn but little. Kyu[u]bei, soon at hand, petitioned for the dead body of O'Mino and the custody of the infant. The neighbours corroborated the story of O'Mino; but Densuké had disappeared. Daihachiro[u] never had confidence in his agent. His preparations for flight had been made before Densuké's discovery, and almost together with Densuké he had passed out the gate of Geishu[u] Sama, with the seventy _ryo[u]_ provided by Jusuké. Report being made to the Machibugyo[u] a "grass dividing" search was made, without result. No trace of either man was found. As for the child born under these auspicious conditions, Kyu[u]bei went at once to Tamiya Matazaémon and made report. With bowed head the old man awaited the decision. Said Matazaémon--"The name giving is to take place on the seventh night. Kyu[u]bei will not fail to be present." He did not speak further. Thus the offence of the parents was pardoned in O'Iwa the infant; the grandchild of a man and woman passing the period of middle age.[10] CHAPTER V THE AFFAIR OF THE SHIBA KIRIDO[U]SHI[11] It was Genroku 8th year (1695). O'Iwa, a girl of twelve years, could understand what came to her ears. In dealing with each other the Nipponese are very exact and exacting. The New Year must start with a clean balance sheet for the tradesman--all bills paid and collected. The last night of the dying year, and its last few hours; this time is the busiest and most anxious. Zensuké, the _banto[u]_ (clerk) of the Shimaya dry goods shop, accompanied by one Jugoro[u], was passing the Shiba Kirido[u]shi. It was the hour of the tiger (3 A.M.). Of the two, Jugoro[u] was the fighting man. Juro[u]zaémon of the Shimaya had provided him with a short sword and sent him as guard to Zensuké, who would have more than three hundred _ryo[u]_ in gold. Said Jugoro[u]--"Banto[u] San, whither now? The hour is late."--"It is never late on the _o[u]misoka_ (31st of the 12th month)," replied Zensuké tersely. "However, there remains but one account to collect; at Nishikubo. We will hasten."--"Go on ahead," said Jugoro[u]. "A moment here for a necessity." Thus the two men became separated by nearly a _cho[u]_ (100 yards). The district was one of _yashiki_ and temples. The white walls of the former blended with the white carpet of snow on the ground. At any hour it was no busy place; now it was desolate. The high banks of the cutting crowned by woods and approached through the trees, made it an ideal place for a hold-up. Zensuké hesitated. He slowed his pace to allow his companion to join him. He thought he saw something move in the darkness close by. From behind a tree just before him came a _samurai_. Two others followed this man from the shadows. The heads of all three men were covered by _zukin_ (hoods). They wore vizors. "Wait!" Zensuké stopped in fright. "What suspicious rascal is this, travelling the quarter at this hour? Probably some clerk making off with his master's funds. Come now! Give them into better keeping. Low fellow! You are fairly trapped." Zensuké began to retreat, but two of the men were now behind him. He began to shout for Jugoro[u]. The latter came up at a run--"Honoured Sirs! This is the Banto[u] San of the Shimaya of Honjo[u] Itcho[u]me. He is collecting the house bills. Deign not to disturb him."--"Shut up!" was the reply of the leader. "Another fellow of the same kidney. Look to him." Roughly he thrust his hand into Zensuké's bosom and began to hustle and fumble the clerk. When Jugoro[u] would interfere the two other men prevented him. With fright he saw the money belt of the _banto[u]_ dangling from the man's hand. The nature of the affair was plain. "Heigh! Jokes don't go, honoured sirs. We are not suspicious fellows. Condescend to pardon us." As he spoke he took advantage of the negligence of his opponents, their interest in the struggle of Zensuké and their leader, to wrench himself free. At once his sword was out. Jugoro[u] was of no mean skill. None of his wardsmen could face him. One man received severe wounds in scalp and face. The other lost part of his hand. But Jugoro[u] was no match for the odds of two trained soldiers. He was soon cut down. Meanwhile Zensuké was shouting lustily for aid. At this period there was a guard called the _tsujiban_ (cross-roads watch). It was mostly composed of oldish men not fit for active service. Such regulations as there were they observed. These were very severe; but, as with the present day police, kept them to their post. They rarely troubled themselves to patrol their district. From these men there could be little hope of aid. Just then, however, the train of some lord came in sight. With one hand the leader held Zensuké by the bosom of his robe. The hand holding the money belt was already thrust in his own bosom. In a moment it would be free. Then Zensuké would go in company with Jugoro[u] to the Yellow Fountain (in Hell). His captor gave a startled cry. "The train of Geishu[u] Sama! Lose no time!" As he wrenched himself away Zensuké sank his teeth deep into the man's hand. With a howl of pain the fellow made off, exchanging a little finger for the three hundred and twenty-five _ryo[u]_ in Zensuké's _do[u]maki_. The _banto[u]_ crouched in conventional attitude by the roadside. His distress was plain; the prostrate body of a man evidence of some unusual condition. A _samurai_ left the passing train and came up to investigate. "Ah! Robbery and murder: follow behind to the _tsujiban_. It is their affair." With moans and groans Zensuké made his report. He was indignant at the luxury of these watchmen, toasting at their fire. They noted it; looked at each other and out into the snowy night, and laughed with contempt. For a tradesman's money belt were they to disturb themselves? They questioned him harshly, in such way as to excuse any further effort on their part. Surely the thieves by this time were at the other end of Edo. Two of them, however, did accompany Zensuké to the scene of the hold-up. Casting an eye over Jugoro[u]'s mangled corpse, said one--"A good fight: the occasion has been missed. As perhaps the criminal this man is to be bound. Probably his intent was to run away with the master's funds." Roughly they seized him, hustled him back to the guardhouse. Trussed up Zensuké had to spend the hours in alarm and fear. Luckily the _kenshi_ soon appeared. It was the _o[u]misoka_. No official business would be performed during the three days following. Jugoro[u] could hardly exercise patience and remain as he was for that space of time. So the examination was duly held. The Shimaya soon secured the body of Jugoro[u] and the release of Zensuké. The latter's evidence was put on record; none too satisfactory, as the concealing _zukin_ prevented any recognition or description of the features of the assailants. He only knew of the cries of impatience at wounds received, and knew that he had left his mark on his own opponent. How then were they to be run down? The _kenshi_ showed some impatience. Said he to the captain of the _tsujiban_--"Why truss up this man, even though a tradesman? He has all his own fingers, and the corpse lacks none." He touched the severed finger with his baton. With this all were dismissed, and to all seeming the affair was forgotten. The Tokugawa had their plain-clothes police. One of the most noted was Magomé Yaémon of Hacho[u]bori. His great grandfather had captured Marubashi Chuya, of note in the rebellion of Yui Shosetsu at the time of the fourth Shogun Iyetsuna Ko[u]. One day this Magomé Dono, in company with a _yakunin_ (constable) named Kuma, was rummaging the poorer districts of Shitaya Hiroko[u]ji. The two men were disguised as charcoal burners, and attracted little attention. All the legitimate profession in the way of medicine and pharmacy had been ransacked by the magistrate (_machibugyo[u]_) of the south district. Yaémon felt sure that there were still some by-ways. "Who's that fellow?" he asked Kuma. The constable laughed. "He's a _sunékiri_ (shin-cutter). The rascals can be told by their tough dark blue cotton socks, the coarse straw sandals, and the banded leggings. Deign to note the long staff he carries. They peddle plasters--shin plasters, guaranteed to cure any wound, to stop any flow of blood. A man's arm hangs but by a strip of skin; the blood flows in torrents. Apply the plaster and the flow ceases at once, the arm heals. They drive a roaring trade, even among the _bushi_ (_samurai_); selling a shell here, two there. As for their real usefulness...." He laughed.[12] They followed after the man and soon came to a guard house. Said Magomé San--"Detain that man yonder. He is to be examined." The ward officer was a little surprised--"Respectfully heard and understood. It is old Yamabayashi Yo[u]gen." Soon the man entered the guard house. Said the official drily--"Magomé Dono is here to talk with Yo[u]gen. What has he been up to?" But the old fellow was confident. "Thanks are felt." With the ease of the righteous and prosperous he passed into the presence of Yaémon. The latter greeted him with a non-official genial smile. "Ah! This is Yamabayashi Yo[u]gen, the head of the _Sunékiri_. And business?"--"Truly this Yo[u]gen is grateful. Man was born with teeth. Men and women still seek each other's company. So long as such endures Yo[u]gen finds profit."--"And plasters?"--"They are the affair of To[u]kichi. Would his worship deign to examine him ... condescend dismissal. At once he presents himself." Thus in short order the straight haired, unshaven, low browed To[u]kichi stuck his head into the Sanbashi guard house. "Deign to pardon this To[u]kichi. The honoured benevolence...." The ward officer eyed him knowingly and quizzically. "Shut up! Magomé Dono has questions to ask about clients. Wait until the questions deal with the doings of To[u]kichi. That will be well. Then it will be time enough to lie. Meanwhile, be sure and tell the truth." With this disinterested advice To[u]kichi was passed to the presence. Once more conscience spoke louder than caution. "The honoured benevolence, the honoured pity; condescend the honoured examination into the innocence of To[u]kichi." Yaémon laughed. "Fortunately it is not a matter of To[u]kichi, but of his plasters. Who bought these at this year's Sho[u]gwatsu (New Year)? Be careful in answer. The case is a bad one." To[u]kichi considered. "The first day of the New Year a man came. His purchase of salve was large. In the course of the past three months he has been many times to buy. His visits now are wider spaced, and he praises the goods--as he ought. No hand ever had a worse poisoned wound. He...."--"Age and appearance?" interrupted Yaémon, now all attention. He had struck a trail. "Perhaps fifty years; fair of complexion, tall, and stout. By his lordly manner he must at least be a _go-kenin_, or a charlatan." Who was this man? Yaémon felt sure that he was about to learn something of interest. Kuma was given his instructions. "Go daily to the shop of this man and receive his report. As to the _samurai_ in question be circumspect. Evidently he is no ordinary person. A _samurai_ is to be summoned, not disgraced by arrest--if he is a _samurai_." So Kuma with several aides established himself in the rear of To[u]kichi's shop. The man not having put in an appearance for several weeks, the wait, if uncertain, was soon rewarded. On the 25th day of the 3rd month (May) he presented himself. Kuma recognized him at once by the description; sooner than To[u]kichi, who was engaged in filling his little shells with the marvellous salve. The officer's decision was prompt. At a call To[u]kichi turned from his drugs. "Ah! the honoured Sir. And the arm, does it honourably progress?"--"Progress could not be better. This is probably the last visit." In replying the man eyed To[u]kichi with some astonishment. The latter made his bows, first to the newcomer, then to the indefinite rear of the establishment. "Indeed the drug is all that is claimed for it. The wound being poisoned, at one time it looked as if the hand, nay arm, must go. These House doctors are notoriously good for nothing. Just as nothing can surpass your product, good leech. Here is money for two shells of its virtues." He held out a silver _bu_.[13] Busied with his preparations To[u]kichi looked in vain toward the rear apartment. After as long delay as he could contrive he passed the shells and a heap of copper change over to the customer. As soon as the latter had left the shop To[u]kichi bolted for the rear. Kuma was gone. His aides were calmly smoking their pipes and drinking the poor tea (_bancha_) of To[u]kichi. Kuma had little trouble in following his man to Okachimachi in Shitaya. He found near by a shop for the sale of everything, from tobacco to _daikon_ (radish), both odoriferous, yet lacking perfume. Said Kuma--"A question or so: this tall _samurai_, an oldish man, who lives close by; who is he?" The woman in charge hesitated. Then dislike overcame discretion. "Ah! With the hand wrapped in a bandage; his name is Sakurai Kichiro[u] Tayu. Truly he is a bad man. That he should quarrel with his own class is no great matter. Maimed as he is, thrice report has been made to the guard house, but in each case he has escaped further process. He is a dreadful fellow; one who never pays a debt, yet to whom it is dangerous to refuse credit. Already nearly a _ryo[u]_ is due to this Echigoya. It has been the bad luck to support him and his family during the past six months." Said Kuma--"Thus maimed, to hold his own in quarrels he must be a notable fencer as well as brawler. Was the wound so received?"--"Iya! That is not known. Some quarrel at the New Year's festivities probably was the cause. Before that time he was sound enough." She laughed. "He has two friends; Kahei San and Miemon San. They are birds of a feather; and all partly plucked. Perhaps they quarrelled in company, but if so have made it up. Sakurai San is a match for the two others." She looked at Kuma, to see if he had more to say. Indifferent he picked out a strand of tobacco. "He shouldered this Go[u]bei into the ditch close by here. Fortunate is it to have escaped worse injury." Satisfied with his inquiries he took his way in haste to his master. The eyes of Yaémon and his aid shone with enjoyment. Surely they had the men of the Shiba Kirido[u]shi. Magomé Yaémon at once sought out the _machibugyo[u]'s_ office. His lordship heard the report. "Different disorders require different treatment. Of two of these men this Gemba knows something. The other man is hard to place, and evidently not so easy to deal with." Two _do[u]shin_ and _yakunin_ were sent at once to the addresses indicated. To capture Nakagawa Miemon and Imai Kahei was an easy task. The _do[u]shin_ and _yakunin_ sent to the house of Sakurai formed a band of twenty men. The house surrounded, without ceremony the officer and an aid entered. "On the lord's mission: Sakurai San is wanted at the office of Matsuda Dono. If resistance be made it will be necessary to use the rope. Pray accompany me." Sakurai Kichiro[u] divined the object of the arrest. "The affair at the Kirido[u]shi has been scented out. The manner of that rascally drug seller was strange to-day." The officer had planted himself right before the sword rack. Sakurai could neither kill anybody, nor cut belly. He turned to his wife. "There is a matter on hand to be explained. Absence will probably be prolonged. Already the day is far advanced.... Ah! Is it Kichitaro[u]?" A boy of seven years had rushed into the room. "Pretty fellow!... Honoured Sir, be patient. The separation is no short one. No resistance is made. We go the same road.... Taro[u]; rude fellow! Salute the gentleman." The boy obeyed, with grave ceremony and a hostility which divined an unpleasant mission. "Your father leaves you. It is now the time to obey the mother in all she says. Remember well, or the end will be a bad one." Wife and child clung to him, frightened and now weeping. It was an arrest; their mainstay was being taken from them. In the last caresses he had time to bend down and whisper to O'Ren--"In the toilet box is a scroll sealed up. All is there explained. Read and destroy it. In later days at discretion let our son know." Roughly he pushed woman and boy aside. With rapid stride he reached the entrance. The _yakunin_ confronted him. He laughed and waved a hand. "There is no resistance. We go the same road." The _do[u]shin_ permitted the laxity of discipline. He had his orders. Meanwhile the examination of the other two men was in progress at the office of the _machibugyo[u]_. As the biggest fool of the two, Nakagawa Miemon was the first summoned to the presence of Matsuda Dono. Said the Judge[14]--"Nakagawa Uji, there is a slight inquiry to make. How were those scars on the face come by? These are marks of wounds not long since received. Consider well and remember." The tone of menace staggered Miemon. He had anticipated some rebuke for slight infraction of the peace, not unusual with these men. "Naruhodo! Has the Shiba Kirido[u]shi matter cropped up?" He hesitated--"The story is a long one, and a foolish one. To weary the honoured ears...." Matsuda Gemba caught him up with impatient gesture. "Answer the question, and truly. Nakagawa Miemon is noted neither for judgment nor sobriety." The man caught up the last phrase as a cue. Eagerly he spoke, the doors of the jail opening wide for exit--"So it is indeed. Wine never benefited man; much less a _samurai_. Hence, with Kahei and Sakurai Uji, it was decided to forswear wine forever. It was determined to make a pilgrimage to Kompira San. There the vow of abstinence was to be taken; on its holy ground. All went well. We met at Nihonbashi. Alas! At the Kyo[u]bashi the perfume of a grog shop reached our noses. The vow had not yet been taken. The ground was not holy. Just one last drink before setting out. But the Buddha was unfavourable. Once begun, the drinking was adjourned to a cook shop. There the bout continued all day. Wine lent us the wings of _tengu_. We travelled the road to Kompira San in a dream. In the progress Kahei and this Miemon quarrelled. Swords were drawn, and we cut each other. These wounds on head and face were the portion of this Miemon. Kahei had his hand nearly severed. Sakurai San, who was asleep, aroused by the noise, sprang up to part us. He is a man to be feared; but in my rage I sank my teeth in his hand. The bite of man or beast is poison. His wound was worse than that of either of us." Gemba Dono was in conversation with his chamberlain. He let Miemon talk away. He was not one to say too little. As barely having listened he asked--"When was this fight? The day of the vow and journey to Kompira? Truly the result has been the vengeance of offended deity."--"The twelfth month tenth day," naturally replied Miemon. Gemba forced him to repeat the answer. Several times he put the query in different forms. Miemon, fool that he was, stuck to the date. Then said the magistrate--"Miemon, you are a liar. Moreover, you are a murderer. On the 13th day, on going up to the castle, this Gemba had converse with your lord. At that time Nakagawa Miemon was summoned to carry out a mission. As a man of whom report had been made you were noted well. At that time you had no wound.... Tie him up, and take him away." The _yakunin_ fell on him from all sides. In a trice he was trussed up and removed. Then appeared Imai Kahei. Kahei was cunning, but also a coward. To the questions of the _machibugyo[u]_ he procrastinated in his answers, confused them all he could. What had Miemon said? "He spoke of the eloquence of Imai San; of Kahei Uji as the clever man, the one to tell the tale properly. Now let us have the true statement of the case." Such was Gemba's reply. It was flattering. Unable to help himself Kahei set sail on his sea of lies. "We all like wine...."--"Ah! After all you are agreed." Gemba smiled pleasantly. Kahei took courage--"But wine costs money. Together we went to Kuraya Jibei, a money-lender living at Kuramae no Saka, as is well known." Gemba nodded assent. "Of him two _ryo[u]_ were borrowed, on agreement to repay ten _ryo[u]_ as interest within a month. The nearest grog shop was sought, and it was the hour of the rat (11 P.M.) before the return was started. At the Teobashi a band of drunkards was encountered. Without cause these men forced a quarrel on us. Thus was the hand of Kahei nearly severed. This is the truth."--"And what was the date of this money bond?" Imai hesitated. He had caught a glimpse of the drug seller To[u]kichi on being brought into the place. Without doubt the Kirido[u]shi affair was in question. He must antedate his wound. "Kahei does not remember with certainty. Perhaps it was the seventeenth day; before the Kwannon festival of the eighteenth day." He mumbled, and was frightened. Said Gemba sharply--"Speak distinctly; the seventeenth day?"--"Hei! Hei! Some time in the last decade of the month; the nineteenth or twentieth day--not later; not later." Matsuda Gemba almost leaped at him. "Oh, you liar! On the last day of the year you came, in person, to this Gemba to anticipate the New Year's gift (_sebo_). At that time you had no wound. Yet the drug seller sees you next day with maimed hand. It was not at Teobashi, but at Shiba Kirido[u]shi, that the wound was received.... Tie him up, and away with him." The _yakunin_ came forward. Imai made a spasmodic attempt to rise. They threw him down, and in a moment he was keeping company with Nakagawa Miemon. Gemba Dono braced himself for the more serious task. So did his _yakunin_. A glance showed the magistrate that he had mistaken his man. Sakurai Kichiro[u] came forward with calm and dignity. Making his ceremonial salutation to the judge he came at once to the point. "What lies Miemon and Kahei have told, this Kichiro[u] knows not. The fact is that we three plotted together to rob the fatly supplied purses of the _banto[u]_ making their rounds in settlement of accounts at the close of the year. Hence the _banto[u]_ of the Shimaya, Zensuké, lost his money belt, and a man of the same stamp, one Jugoro[u], was killed. All three of us are guilty of the murder...." As he would proceed Gemba held up his hand. "Bring in the other two men. Continue, Kichiro[u]." Said Sakurai--"Miemon was badly cut about the head and face. Kahei nearly lost his hand. This Kichiro[u] would have killed the clerk, but the procession of Geishu[u] Sama came in sight, and recognition was feared. Of the three hundred and twenty-five _ryo[u]_ secured...." The eyes of Nakagawa and Imai stood out. Aghast they had followed the confession of Sakurai Kichiro[u], with full intention to deny its truth. Now they were in a fury. "What! Three hundred and twenty-five _ryo[u]_! And we had but ten _ryo[u]_ apiece. You jest, Sakurai Uji.... Oh! The low fellow! The villain! A very beast! A swine!" Gemba Dono could ask for nothing more. With smiling face and courtesy he turned to Sakurai Kichiro[u]. "Why did Kichiro[u] take the three hundred _ryo[u]_, giving to these fellows such a paltry sum?" Answered Kichiro[u]--"As deserving no more. They are paltry fellows; little better than common soldiers (_ashigaru_). But there is more to tell, now the end is reached. The true name of Sakurai Kichiro[u] is Takahashi Daihachiro[u], at one time a retainer of Matsudaira Aki no Kami. Pressed by the money lender Jusuké, I killed him and had the body disposed of by one Densuké, the cook at the soldiers' quarters of the _yashiki_. This was in Tenwa 3rd year 5th month (June 1683). Fleeing to avoid arrest the occupation of writing teacher was taken up at Yu[u]ki in Shimosa. Densuké, too, had fled, and hither he came as a wandering beggar. Fearing his tongue I killed him; and mutilating the corpse, threw it into the castle moat close by. A beggar found dead, no inquiry was made."--"When did this take place?" asked Gemba. "Just one year later--Jo[u]kyo[u] 1st year 5th month." He made a little movement. Nakagawa and Imai broke out into protest at the completeness of this confession, but Sakurai turned fiercely on them. "Shut up! To undergo public trial would bring shame on all _kerai_ throughout the land; would cause people to fear our caste. We three planned the deed and secured the money." He put his arms behind his back. The _yakunin_, stepping softly, roped him up almost with respect. A wave of Gemba's hand and the guilty men were removed. Unable to help themselves, Nakagawa and Imai made confession to avoid the torture in what was now a hopeless case. Later the sentences of condemnation were issued. Degraded from their status the three men were taken to the execution ground of Shinagawa, and there decapitated. The wife of Takahashi Daihachiro[u] did not wait these proceedings. The confession of her husband was in her hands before he himself told everything to Matsuda Gemba. Before night she had decamped with her son. At eight years of age Kichitaro[u] was placed as disciple (_deshi_) at the Jo[u]shinji of Fukagawa. Receiving the name of Myo[u]shin he became the favourite of the rector (_ju[u]shoku_) of the temple. The mother now became reduced to the greatest penury. For a time she was bawd in the Honjo[u] Warigesui district. Subsequently she was promoted to the position of favourite sultana (wife) of her master Toémon, local head of his profession. Her name now was O'Matsu. When Myo[u]shin was thirteen years old in some way he was told that she was dead. Henceforth he had no stay in the world but the worthy priest, who became a second and better father to him. This treatment found its usual and virtuous reward. At eighteen years, now a priest and learned in priestly ways, he took to himself the contents of the temple strong box. Fifty _ryo[u]_ soon disappeared in the company of the harlots of Fukagawa Yagura-Shita. A prolonged absence of Myo[u]shin aroused the inquiries of the other monks, and the eyes of the rector were soon opened as to his unworthy proselyte, the blighted issue of a miserable stock.[15] CHAPTER VI NEGOTIATIONS: THE BUSINESS OF A MARRIAGE BROKER (NAKO[U]DO) The presence of O'Iwa created an upheaval in the Samoncho[u] household. The wet nurse required brought with her a train of servants. With the child's growth this was maintained, even increased. The young lady (Ojo[u]san) found herself graduated into one with a _status_ to maintain. All the niggardly habits of Matazaémon were thrown to the winds with the advent of this grandchild. The affection never shown outwardly to the mother, was lavished on her daughter. At seven years of age O'Iwa underwent the common enough infliction of smallpox. It showed itself on the anniversary day of O'Mino's death, and the child's sickness afforded but mutilated rites for the memorial service of the mother. Matazaémon would have abandoned all his duties, himself to nurse the child. O'Naka loved O'Iwa for self and daughter. She had sense enough to drive the old man into a corner of the room, then out of it; and further expostulations sent him to his duties. Who, in those iron days, would accept such excuse for absence? The child worried through, not unscathed. Her grandmother's qualifications as nurse have been mentioned. O'Iwa was a plain girl. She had the flat plate-like face of her mother. The eyes were small, disappearing behind the swollen eyelids, the hair was scanty, the disease added its black pock marks which stood thick and conspicuous on a fair skin. Otherwise she was spared by its ravages, except-- Whatever her looks O'Iwa compensated for all by her disposition. She had one of those balanced even temperaments, with clear judgment, added to a rare amiability. Moreover she possessed all the accomplishments and discipline of a lady. At eleven years Matazaémon unwillingly had sought and found a place for her in attendance on her ladyship of the great Hosokawa House. O'Iwa's absence made no difference in his household. The train of servants was maintained, to be disciplined for her return, to be ready on this return. Perhaps it was a pleasing fiction to the fond mind of the aging man that she would return, soon, to-morrow. O'Naka acquiesced in the useless expense and change in her habits. She always acquiesced; yet her own idea would have been to make a good housekeeper of O'Iwa--like herself, to sew, cook, wash, clean--a second O'Mino. She could not understand the new turn of Matazaémon's mind. As for O'Iwa, she grew to girlhood in the Hosokawa House, learned all the accomplishments of her own house and what the larger scale of her new position could teach her; everything in the way of etiquette and the polite arts, as well as the plainer tasks of housekeeping, she was likely ever to be called on to perform. The plain child grew into the plain woman; perhaps fortunately for her. The _okugata_ (her ladyship) was a jealous woman. Her spouse was mad on women. Every nubile maid (_koshimoto_) in the _yashiki_ was a candidate for concubinage. His wife countered by as hideous a collection of females as her own House and her lord's retainers could furnish. O'Iwa attracted from the first by her lack of all physical attraction. His lordship tried to get used to her with the passage of years--and failed. He could not stomach the necessary advances. But the girl's admirable temper and even judgment secured the esteem of all. These latter qualities captivated the whole household. It was O'Iwa who performed all duties for her ladyship, took them in charge as her substitute. For the first time in his life Oki no Kami found something in a woman apart from her sex. When the time came for O'Iwa to depart, the regret of lord and lady was substantially expressed in their gifts. But his lordship had to admit failure. Not a retainer could be found willing to take the daughter of Tamiya as wife. So far O'Iwa's mission at the _yashiki_ had failed. O'Naka knew this. Matazaémon never gave it thought; so glad he was to get her back. He received the honoured words and presents with humble and delighted thanks. O'Iwa reentered her home, a recovered jewel. She was the Ojo[u]san, the lady daughter. A first step of hers was gradually to get rid of a good part of the superfluous train. O'Iwa was a very practical girl. Matazaémon was now old and ill. He was nearing his seventieth year. The one idea in his head was the _muko_, the son to be adopted as husband of the heir of the House; the mate to be secured for O'Iwa, and the posterity to be secured for his House. As a little girl O'Iwa had been much courted--in fun. Watanabé Juzo[u], Natsumé Kyuzo[u], Imaizumi Jinzaémon, many others the growing "sparks" of Samoncho[u] and roundabout, could not forbear this amusement with the little "_Bakémono_" (apparition). Of their ill intent O'Iwa knew nothing. Indeed a short experience with O'Iwa disarmed derision. Most of the unseemly lovers came genuinely to like the girl, unless inherent malice and ugliness of disposition, as with Natsumé and Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, made their sport more than mere pastime. But as grown men they could not face the results of the final step, and no parent was harsh enough to graft his unwilling stock on O'Iwa's persimmon trees. The girl was clever enough to know this. It was Ho[u]ei 6th year (1709) and she was now twenty-six years old. It was indirectly at her suggestion that Matazaémon sought the aid of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. This man lived just behind the large inclosure of the Sainenji, on the hill slope which dips steeply down to the Samégabashi. The relationship was very distant at best; but with nearer relatives in general, and with Yoémon his brother in particular, the master of Tamiya had deadly feud. To them he would not turn to find a husband for O'Iwa. Thus it happened that one day in the seventh month (August) Rokuro[u]bei was awaiting the appearance of Yamada Cho[u]bei. He really knew little about the man, but Cho[u]bei at one time had been resident in the ward. He had undergone vicissitudes, and now was a dealer in metals and a kind of broker in everything under the sign of Musashiya. He had a wide acquaintance over Edo in his different businesses, and was the easy and slip-shod means by which Rokuro[u]bei would avoid the more arduous part of the task laid on him by Matazaémon. Cho[u]bei was not long in putting in an appearance. All affairs were gifts of the gods to a man who lived on wind. Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei--Windmill Cho[u]bei--he was called. His flittings were so noiseless and erratic, just like the little paper windmills made for children, that the nickname applied exactly fitted him. The maid in announcing him showed no particular politeness. "Wait here a moment.... Danna Sama (master), Cho[u]bei San, the metal dealer, requests an interview."--"Ah! Pass him here at once.... Is it Cho[u]bei? Please sit down." Cho[u]bei had followed almost on the girl's footsteps. She drew aside to make room for him, then flirted out in haste. Poverty and dislike had no influence in Yotsuya in those days. She seemed to scent the man. Cho[u]bei looked with envy at the comfortable Rokuro[u]bei. The day was hot. The thin _kimono_ fallen about his loins, the latter's garb was a pair of drawers and a thin shirt. He sat looking out on the garden, with its shade of large trees, its shrubbery and rock work. Everything was dripping with the water industriously splashed to this side and to that by the serving man. The tea was brought and Kondo[u] at last remembered that he had a guest. As he turned--"It is a long time since a visit has been paid. Deign to pardon the intrusion." Cho[u]bei sighed in making this remark. The irony was lost on his fat host. As Rokuro[u]bei seemed unwilling, or hardly to know how to impart the subject concerning which he had summoned him, Cho[u]bei continued--"And the honoured health, is it good? The honoured business, is it on some matter of moment that Cho[u]bei is summoned?" Rokuro[u]bei woke up under the direct question. He, too, sighed. Cho[u]bei was noted for a greed which inspired fear. For money he would do anything. "Blindman Cho[u]bei" had been his nickname of old days in the ward. Kondo[u] remembered this. He liked money, too. It brought in so much comfort. He hated to part with comfort. It was to be a question between himself and Cho[u]bei how much of his hard-earned commission was to be parted with. This last thought completely aroused him. "It is a matter of securing a _muko_. This Rokuro[u]bei is the one charged with the task. As a son-in-law outside the ward is desired, no one has wider circulation and better opportunities than Cho[u]bei San. Hence the desire for a consultation." Cho[u]bei whistled inwardly. Outside the ward! What was wrong with the case. Here was coin to be turned up by the circumspect. "Surely there are young fellows enough in Samoncho[u], fit to be _muko_. Of course with impediments...."--"It is the daughter of Tamiya; O'Iwa San. Matazaémon Dono has commissioned this Rokuro[u]bei to secure a _muko_." Cho[u]bei whistled outwardly. "For O'Iwa San!..."--"She is no beauty, as Cho[u]bei evidently knows. Wealth compensates for other deficiencies. At all events his aid is desired."--"For how much?" Cho[u]bei spoke bluntly. If Rokuro[u]bei had forgotten Cho[u]bei, Cho[u]bei had not forgotten Rokuro[u]bei. He went on--"To get a price for damaged goods is no sinecure. Fortunately she is only out of repair on the surface.... Say ten _ryo[u]_?" Kondo[u] laughed scornfully--"And they call Cho[u]bei 'the Blind-man'! Rather is it vision magnified. The entertainment should be the reward; with what Cho[u]bei collects from the happy bridegroom." Cho[u]bei replied gravely--"With such a wealthy connection the future of Kondo[u] Dono is to be envied. Cho[u]bei has to realize his future at once. Not a _ryo[u]_ less can he afford." Plainly he was in earnest, as was the long conversation which followed. Finally Cho[u]bei emerged with partial success, and half the sum named as stipend for his labours. He began them at once. The next day he was at the metal market in Kanda. In course of chaffering over wares he never bought--"You fellows always have some _ro[u]nin_ in train; a fine, handsome fellow for whom a wife is needed. Application is made. Jinzaémon, you have a candidate."--"Not for the kind of wife Cho[u]bei San provides." Those present laughed loudly at the sally. Cho[u]bei did not wink. He explained. "No bad provision is this one. Rich, with an income of thirty _tawara_, a fine property in reversion, and but twenty-five years old. The man therefore must be fit to pose as a _samurai_; able to read and write, to perform official duty, he must be neither a boy nor a man so old as to be incapable. Come now! Does no one come forward? _Ro[u]nin_ are to be had. A _ryo[u]_ for aid to this Cho[u]bei."--"Too cheap as an offer," was Jinzaémon's retort. "A _ro[u]nin_ is one to be handled with care. Those favoured with acquaintance of the honoured _bushi_ often part with life and company at the same date. Those without lords are equally testy as those in quarters." He spoke with the bluntness of the true Edokko, the peculiar product of the capital; men who were neither farmers nor provincials, but true descendants of the men of the guild of Bandzuin Cho[u]bei. He jested, but the subject interested the crowd. Said one--"Does Cho[u]bei San get the _ryo[u]_ out of groom or bride? She is a bold wench, unmarried at that age; and none too chaste eh, Cho[u]bei San? She will provide the husband with wife and child to hand, or in the making. Or, are matters the other way? Has she been tried and found wanting? Is she impotent, or deformed; or is Cho[u]bei making fools of us?" Answered Cho[u]bei slowly--"No; she is a little ugly. The face round and flat, shining, with black pock marks, making it look like speckled pumice, rouses suspicion of leprosy. This, however, is not the case. At all events she is a woman." All were now roaring with laughter--"A very beauty indeed! Just the one for Cho[u]bei's trade! Too honied was his speech. He would market anything. But in this market it is a matter of hard cash; without credit. This is a bit of goods too wilted. Even Cho[u]bei cannot sell it."--"You lie!" said Cho[u]bei in a towering passion. "At the first hint of ill-fortune threatening wine supply or pleasure, there is not one of you who would not turn to Cho[u]bei to find the money needed. Sisters, daughters, wives, aunts ... mothers are for sale." He was choking with rage. "Sell her? Cho[u]bei can and will." Angered by the final item on his family list, a man nearby gave him a sharp poke in the back. Others voiced resentment, perhaps would have given it material form. The canal was spoken of. Cho[u]bei took the hint. He did not wait for a ducking. At a sharp pace he trotted off toward his tenement at Asakusa Hanagawado[u]. For a while he would avoid the metal market. He regretted his display of temper. It was in the necessities of other trades that he found the material of his own, and flourished. In plain terms Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei was a pimp for the Yoshiwara and kindred quarters. His other occupations were mere channels accessory to this main business. Hence his seasons of increase and decline. Just now he was in a period of decline. His eagerness in this Tamiya affair was sharpened. Pushing his way through the Kuramae of Asakusa suddenly a hopeful light came into his eye. Abruptly he made his way to the side of the roadway. Here boarding covered the ditch, removing the occupant of a booth erected thereon, and would-be clients, from the passing stream of humanity. There was a table in the booth, and on it were several books, a vessel containing water, brushes (_fudé_), scrolls for writing, and a box containing divining sticks. It was the stand of a strolling fortune-teller. At the time the occupant was engaged in gathering together his professional apparatus, with the evident purpose to decamp. Cho[u]bei did not delay in accosting him. "Ah! The Sensei;[16] Kazuma Uji finds the day too hot to pry into the future. Does the Sensei leave his clients to their fate, or have the clients abandoned the Sensei? Deign to come along with Cho[u]bei. Perhaps he, too, can tell fortunes. At all events the wife has been forewarned; the bath is ready. It will put life into both of us." The young man laughed and hastened his operations, nodding assent--"Thanks are felt, Cho[u]bei San. Indeed this Kazuma has but to continue the art of prophecy if he would foretell his own fate. No one will buy the future when money is so needed for the present. Besides this is a pleasure ground. Men have no hankering to learn of possible worse luck than being here. All the fools have died--except their prophet." He shouldered his scanty apparatus, and with rapid stride the two men pushed their way up the crowded street toward the great gate of the temple. In his haste Cho[u]bei yet had time to eye, from time to time, his companion, always gaining encouragement from the palpable seediness made more plain by a handsome person. The two were neighbours in a house-row (_nagaya_) of the Hanagawado[u], that poverty-stricken district along the river close to the great amusement ground, and furnishing those who perform its baser tasks. On arrival Cho[u]bei called out--"O'Taki! O'Taki! The bath, is it ready? The Sensei, Kazuma San, honours us with his company. Make all ready for his reception.... Sensei, condescend to enter; please come up." Yanagibara Kazuma dropped his clogs in the vestibule. As he entered the room--"Pray pardon the intrusion. This Kazuma feels much in the way. He is continually putting his neighbours of the _nagaya_ to inconvenience; too great the kindness of Cho[u]bei San and wife." O'Taki laughed deprecatingly. Truly this was a handsome young man. In this 6th year of Ho[u]ei (1709) Yanagibara Kazuma was twenty-one years of age. O'Taki was thirty odd. She appreciated masculine beauty all the more. Cho[u]bei grunted from heat and the merest trace of discomfiture. He had his limit, even in his business. Quickly he shook off his _kimono_, and fan in hand squatted in his loin cloth. "Ah! 'Tis hot beyond endurance. Business is bad--from Yoshiwara to Yotsuya." O'Taki looked up at the last word. He continued--"The Sensei takes precedence. Kazuma Uji, deign to enter the bath. All is ready?" His wife nodded assent. Kazuma followed the example of Cho[u]bei. In a trice he was naked as his mother bore him. Cho[u]bei burst out into phrases of admiration--"What a splendid fellow! Ah! Waste of material! If a woman Kazuma San would be a fortune to himself and to Cho[u]bei.... Taki, note the skin of the Sensei. It has the texture of the finest paper. How regrettable!" He drew back for the better inspection of the sum total of his subject's charms. O'Taki drew closer for the same purpose. Cho[u]bei sighed--"It is plain enough that Kazuma San is not a woman. An error of Nature! Somehow the age at which a woman becomes of use, is that at which a boy becomes a mere burden. He is fit for nothing but to be a story-teller.... And you, Taki, what are you about?" The lady of his affections was far advanced in the process of disrobing. She protested. "Does not the Sensei need aid in the bath? How cleanse the back, the shoulders. This Taki would aid him."--"Immodest wench!" bellowed Cho[u]bei. "The Sensei needs no such aid. Why! You ... Taki ... one would take you for a charcoal ball (_tadon_), so dark your skin. Nay! For two of them, for a cluster piled in a box, so round the buttocks and belly. The Sensei wants no aid from such an ugly jade. This Cho[u]bei can do what is needed; with as much skill and better purpose than a woman." Kazuma modestly interposed in this incipient quarrel between husband and wife. "Nay, the matter is of no importance. Kazuma is grateful for such kindness, but aid is not needed. His arm is long." He held it out, almost simian in proportion and slenderness, the one proportional defect of this handsome body. The quarrel of Cho[u]bei and O'Taki lapsed before his pleasant smile. Seated over tea said Cho[u]bei--"This Cho[u]bei, too, has claimed to be a diviner. Don't deny it. The Sensei at one time has been a priest." Kazuma looked at him with surprise, even misgiving. Explained Cho[u]bei--"The manner in which the Sensei takes up the cup betrays him; in both hands, with a little waving of the vessel and shake of the head. The rust of the priest's garb clings close." Said Kazuma--"Cho[u]bei San is a clever fellow. It is true. At one time I was priest."--"Whereabouts?" asked Cho[u]bei. "At the Reigan of Fukagawa," replied the prophet--"Ah! Reiganji; and later would return to the life of a _samurai_. Such pose and manner possessed by the Sensei are only gained in good company. He would reassume the status. This Cho[u]bei was not always as he is. Wine, women, gambling, have brought him to pimping. The buying of _geisha_ and _joro[u]_ cost the more as they imply the other two vices. Wife, status, fortune; all are gone. Such has been Cho[u]bei's fate."--"Not the only case of the kind," grumbled his partner in concubinage. "And the wife, what has become of her?"--"None of Taki's affair, as she is no longer an issue. Would the jade be jealous?" He glowered at her. "But Kazuma San, this Cho[u]bei is not only diviner, to tell fortunes. He can make them." Kazuma laughed. "Don't joke. Cho[u]bei San's line of business has already cost this Kazuma fortune and position."--"To secure a better one. Kazuma San is a _ro[u]nin_ (without lord), a man of education, and of fine appearance. He is just the one to become a _muko_."--"In some tradesman's family?" The _samurai_ spoke with disdain. Said Cho[u]bei eagerly--"No: Cho[u]bei prophesied the return of Kazuma Uji to his own caste."--"At what cost?" said Kazuma coolly. "The honour of a _samurai_ cannot stand open taint. Kazuma has no desire to cut belly at too early a date, to save the situation for others. Has the woman erred, and is the father's sword dulled?"--"It is no such case," answered Cho[u]bei. "The parents, rather grandparents, are fools in pride. The girl is twenty-five years old, rich, and, one must admit, not too good looking. It is by a mere chance, a former connection, that the affair comes into Cho[u]bei's hands. As Kazuma Uji knows, it is not much in his line. Let us share the good luck together."--"Is she a monster; one of those long-necked, pop-eyed _rokurokubi_?"--"That can be determined at the meeting," said the cautious Cho[u]bei. "She is somewhat pock-marked, as with others. It is a matter of luck. Cho[u]bei's position forces him to fall back on Kazuma San as the only likely man to recommend. Deign not to refuse to come to his aid."--"Rich, and granddaughter of people old in years." He eyed Cho[u]bei quizzically. The latter nodded agreement. "No matter what her looks, this Kazuma accepts with thanks--unless this be a jest of Cho[u]bei San." Cho[u]bei slightly coughed--"There is a commission...."--"Ah! Then the foundation is rock. As to commission, assuredly; Kazuma is not rich, nor in funds."--"But will be. At ten _ryo[u]_ it is a cheap affair."--"Agreed," replied the diviner carelessly. "The money will be paid."--"With the delivery of the goods." Cho[u]bei now was all gaiety--"Of the Rokurokubi, the monster with sextuple lengthed neck," laughed Kazuma Sensei as he took his leave. He was engaged to meet Cho[u]bei the next day at the house of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei in Yotsuya. CHAPTER VII IÉMON APPEARS In his difficult mission Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei had hopes of Cho[u]bei; but not much more. It was with no small pleasure that he heard the announcement of his visit the next morning. The maid was a shade more civil--"Please wait." Kondo[u] was decidedly so. He greeted Cho[u]bei with an effusion which Cho[u]bei noted. The tea brought, the two men faced each other over the cups. To Kondo[u]'s inquiring look--"Honoured master the task is a difficult one." He retailed his experience at the Kanda market. Kondo[u] was somewhat discomfited. He had put a different interpretation on the early visit of Cho[u]bei. Continued the latter--"A difficult task, but not hopeless. Surely five _ryo[u]_ is very small remuneration." Kondo[u]'s eye lit up. Cho[u]bei had his man. "It is all this Kondo[u] is qualified to give. Cho[u]bei knows Tamiya Dono. After all it is he who pays, and Cho[u]bei can claim but his share. However, the matter is not urgent. A bad turn with Matazaémon, and O'Naka will be much easier to deal with ... unless it be Yoémon who interposes." He made a wry face; joined in by Cho[u]bei. Kondo[u] went on--"It is matter of regret to have troubled you. The parents of Natsumé Kyuzo[u] show signs of breaking off present negotiations and coming round to us. This is a matter of yesterday, and on hearing that the affair of O'Iwa San was definitely in the hands of Rokuro[u]bei." Cho[u]bei was frightened. Was this the cause of Kondo[u]'s joy? Had he misinterpreted on his entrance? He put out a hand, as if to stop the talk of his host. "Deign to allow the money question to stand as agreed. Such step would put this Cho[u]bei in an awkward position. The man is found, and soon will be here. Probably even Kondo[u] Dono will be satisfied."--"Who is he?" asked Kondo[u].--"One Yanagibara Kazuma. He has practised divination at Asakusa...."--"A charlatan! A quack doctor! Cho[u]bei, are you mad?" Rokuro[u]bei pushed back his cushion and his cue in horror. Not a word did he say of Natsumé Kyuzo[u]. Cho[u]bei smiled. He had been trapped; but he had detected Kondo[u]. "Don't be alarmed. The man is a _ro[u]nin_, his divination of small account and due to temporary stress. Kondo[u] Dono will soon judge of the man by his appearance. Let the subject of Kazuma San be dropped--with that of Natsumé San. Our bargain has been made firm." Kondo[u] looked down. He felt a little injured. Continued Cho[u]bei--"For his man Cho[u]bei cannot answer if all be known. Pray follow my plan, and precede us to the house of Matazaémon. He must not see O'Iwa at this juncture. Tamiya Dono is ill and not visible. The Obasan is wise enough to do as she is told. Years have drilled that into her. O'Iwa has taken cold. Her hair is loose and she cannot think of appearing. Make this known when the time comes to serve the wine. Meanwhile send her off on some mission; to the house of Akiyama, or that of the newly-wed Imaizumi."--"But the man must see the girl," protested Kondo[u]. Answered Cho[u]bei--"He must see the property. It is with that Cho[u]bei intends he shall become enamoured. He is not to see the girl until she is his wife. To keep the estate he will cleave to the woman. Trust Cho[u]bei for a knowledge of men's hearts ... at least that of Yanagibara Kazuma." Perhaps he spoke a little too plainly. Rokuro[u]bei had a last touch of conscience--"Cho[u]bei, what manner of man is this one you bring? What is his real nature? Tamiya is upright as the walls of the Honmaru (castle). And Yanagibara Kazuma...." Cho[u]bei's brow wrinkled. He was spared an answer. Said the maid--"Yanagibara Sama would see the master."--"Show him in at once," said Rokuro[u]bei. He rose, as much in amazement as in courtesy. Kazuma was a striking figure as he entered the room. His dress of white Satsuma was of finest quality, and perfectly aligned. The _haori_ (cloak) was of the corrugated Akashi crape. In his girdle he wore the narrow swords then coming into fashion, with finely lacquered scabbards. In person he was tall, fair, with high forehead and big nose. Slender and sinewy every movement was lithe as that of a cat. Kondo[u] gasped as he made the accustomed salutations. "This man for O'Iwa! Bah! A fox has stolen a jewel." All his compunction and discretion vanished before this unusual presence. Kazuma gracefully apologized for his intrusion, thus uninvited. Kondo[u] stammered protests and his delight at the opportunity of meeting Yanagibara Dono. Cho[u]bei smiled inward and outward delight at thus summarily removing any too pointed objections of Kondo[u]. For absolute self-possession in this awkward situation the younger man easily carried the palm. Kazuma acted as would a man double his years. Cho[u]bei was not only delighted, but astonished. "Whence had the Sensei produced all this wondrous get-up? Was he in real fact a magician?" Kazuma knew, but he was not one to enlighten Cho[u]bei or anyone else. After talk on general matters the affair of the meeting was broached. Said Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei--"Thus to trouble Yanagibara Dono requires apology, but the affair is not without advantage. The lady is the daughter of Tamiya, a _do[u]shin_ and favoured by the Hosokawa House. This Kondo[u] is honoured in presenting Kazuma Dono in Yotsuya."--"Nay, fear enters.[17] The honour of this meeting with Kondo[u] Dono is as great as the intrusion has been unseemly. Deign to pardon the precipitancy of this Kazuma." Kondo[u] protested in his turn. Said Cho[u]bei--"The presentation made, doubtless the matter is as good as concluded. But Tamiya Dono is ill; this visit is unexpected. If Kondo[u] Dono would deign to precede, and ascertain how matters are at Tamiya, it would be well." To this Kondo[u] assented. Making his excuses he set out for Samoncho[u], bubbling over with excitement, and praying that the matter would have certain issue; and thus establish him for life on the shoulders of the wealthy Tamiya. Prayers? Indeed he did stop on the road, one lined with the ecclesiastical structures. Kondo[u] had too much at stake, not to invoke all likely aid. With his departure Cho[u]bei began to go into the externals of the House of Tamiya. As they walked along--"Congenial surroundings." This was with a grin and a wave of the hand toward the long line of temple buildings and graveyards they were passing. "Not much savour of present lodging in Hanagawado[u]. Eh! Kazuma Uji, even Cho[u]bei notes the difference." He stopped opposite the Gwansho[u]ji and looked across the way. The fruit was already formed on the trees of Matazaémon's garden. "Persimmons of a hundred momme (375 grammes) each; twenty cartloads for the profit of the house at the fall of the year." As they passed in the entrance on Samoncho[u] he pointed to a store-house. "Stuffed with rice, from the farms of Tamiya in Kazusa. No husks to be found in it."--"Who said there were?" said Kazuma testily. His eyes were taking in the wide proportions of the garden, the spreading roof and eaves of a stately mansion. As they passed along the _ro[u]ka_ to a sitting room Cho[u]bei called his attention to the fret work (_rama-sho[u]ji_) between the rooms, the panelled ceilings, the polished and rare woodwork of _tokonoma_ (alcoves). A _kakémono_ of the severe Kano school was hung in the sitting room alcove, a beautifully arranged vase of flowers stood beneath it. Matazaémon could not use his legs, but his hands were yet active. Of his visitors he knew nothing; least of all of Cho[u]bei. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei appeared. With him was an old lady. O'Naka bowed to the ground before the proposed son-in-law. She was in a flutter over the beautiful man destined for O'Iwa. The admirable courtesy of his manners, the tender softness of voice, robbed her of what little judgment she had. Her only fear was that the candidate for honours and the Tamiya would escape. Said Cho[u]bei--"Asakusa is a long distance; the occasion exceptional. Cannot the Ojo[u]san favour us by pouring the wine?" The old woman hummed and hawed. Kondo[u], too, seemed put out. "As a matter of fact O'Iwa is not presentable. She has taken cold, and just now is in bed. Perhaps the Obasan will urge her further, now that Yanagibara Uji is present." O'Naka at once rose, like to an automaton, the spring of which has been pressed. She disappeared, to return and repeat her lesson. "Wilful as a child! One would suppose her such. Illness she would disregard, but her hair is not made up. She cannot think of appearing before company. Truly she is vexing."--"Not so," defended Cho[u]bei. "She could not show higher regard than by refusing to appear before a future husband in careless attire. It is a guarantee of conduct when married. She is much to be commended for such respect. All women like to appear well. A man in the neighbourhood, and rice powder and rouge are at once applied. How neglect such an elaborate structure as the hair? Trust Cho[u]bei's judgment as to women." O'Naka thought that he spoke well, but like most men with great conceit. Kazuma looked out towards the beautiful garden. He took the chance to smile, for he had soon ascertained that Kondo[u] knew little about his agent; was in fact a precipitate, testy man. However, he was a little put out at not seeing the would-be bride. At an opportunity he stepped out, to see more of the house and its surroundings. Cho[u]bei came up to him as he stood on the _ro[u]ka_. His voice was coaxing and pleading. "Is it not a fine prospect--for Kazuma Dono?" His voice hung on the 'Dono.' "Nay, don't let escape this splendid piece of luck. Long has Cho[u]bei interested himself in his neighbour. Such a beautiful exterior should have a proper setting. Marry O'Iwa San and Kazuma Dono is master of Tamiya. Is it agreed?" Kazuma looked down in thought. At his age there are ideals of the other sex, hard to put aside. Said he--"Not to see the lady.... Is she so horrible?" Cho[u]bei protested. "Not so! The lady is a mere item, well fitted to go with this fine house, this beautiful garden, these store-houses filled with goods. Look: Tamiya Dono is a man of double rations. The property has _nagaya_ for attendants. For long this has not been used. Tamiya will not rent it out. It will be so much revenue added to the stipend of the House, and will replace the old man's uncertain income from his accomplishments as master of _hanaiké_ and _cha-no-yu_." Kazuma looked around, following the pointing finger of Cho[u]bei. He was in sad straits. His only future was this position of a _muko_. No matter what the woman might be, there was compensation. To Cho[u]bei's direct question he made answer--"Yes." The affair of the marriage suffered no delays. Cho[u]bei had struck home. Kazuma was so impressed with the surroundings, especially after a return to his own miserable quarters, that the matter of the interview took a minor place to the inspection of his future property. Within the week he had removed to the house of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. The latter introduced him to his future associates in the ward by a succession of fish and wine dinners dear to the heart of the men of Nippon. These neighbours were astonished at the future son-in-law of the Tamiya. This man was to be the husband of the O'Baké? Was he mad, or drunk? Perhaps the latter, for neither themselves nor Kazuma had the opportunity to be particularly sober during this period of festivity. Of course there was an introduction to Matazaémon, the other principal involved. As Kondo[u] carefully explained, no set date could be made for this interview. Tamiya Dono was ill, and to be seen at a favourable time. As ill luck would have it, on the very day the interview was permitted O'Iwa San received an urgent summons from the Okugata of the Hosokawa House. This could not be disregarded, and her absence on the second occasion was easily explained and condoned. Kondo[u] certainly made no effort, and Kazuma no suggestion, for a meeting in the three days intervening before the formal marriage. At evening the guests met in the reception rooms of Tamiya. In a private apartment were Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei and his wife, O'Iwa, and Iémon. The latter name had been assumed by Kazuma on his formal registration in the Tamiya House. It was Cho[u]bei who had purchased the _wataboshi_, or wadded hood, of floss silk worn by the bride on this great occasion of her life. Iémon could see but little within its depths, except the shining light of her countenance. Joy perhaps? At least this curiosity was soon to be satisfied. Nine times--three times three--were the _saké_ cups drained. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei joined the hands of the train, exhorting them to mutual forbearance, O'Iwa to unquestioning obedience to the husband. He pattered over the maxims of the Do[u]jikun of Kaibara Yekken in this strange case, as he had done twenty times before with favourable results. Yekken's book was comparatively recent, only a few decades old, and the woman's guide. Truly the position of the _nako[u]do_ was no easy one, if it was to bring him at odds with either House involved. He felt complacent. This pair at least presented less complications in that line than usual. What there was of doubtful issue came now to the test. At this crisis he cast an eye to the _ro[u]ka_ (verandah) to see that Cho[u]bei really was at hand as promised. Then the strings of the _wataboshi_ were loosed. The hood concealing the face of O'Iwa was removed. Iémon rose to his feet as if impelled by springs; then hurriedly he sat again with some mumbled excuse and trembling hands. He could not take his eyes from the shining white of the face before him, the glazed smooth surface left in many places between the black of the pock marks. The removal of the hood had somewhat disarrayed the hair, leaving the broad expanse of forehead more prominent, the puffed heavy eyelids in the face more conspicuous. In the depths shone two tiny points, the eyes. Indeed, as Cho[u]bei afterwards described it, eyelids and eyes had the appearance of _kuzumanju_, the dumplings of white rice paste with the black dots of dark brown bean paste sunk deep in the centre. Never had O'Iwa appeared to such disadvantage. She was now engaged in removing the white garment, to appear in her proper array as bride and wife. Iémon took advantage of this absence to step to the _ro[u]ka_. In leaving the room Kondo[u] had given a wink to Cho[u]bei. Iémon almost ran into him. He seized him by the arm. The young man's voice was excited. He spoke in a whisper, as one who could barely find speech. With satisfaction Cho[u]bei noted that he was frightened, not angered. "What is that? Who is that creature?" were the first words of Iémon. Replied Cho[u]bei coldly--"That is the wife of Tamiya Iémon; O'Iwa San, daughter of Matazaémon Dono; your wife to eight thousand generations." Then roughly--"Deign, Iémon San, not to be a fool. In the purchase of cow or horse, what does the buyer know of the animal? Its real qualities remain to be ascertained. O'Iwa San is ugly. That much Cho[u]bei will admit. She is pock-marked, perhaps stoops a little. But if the daughter of the rich Tamiya, a man with this splendid property, had been a great beauty, this Iémon would not have become the _muko_ of Tamiya, the future master of its wealth. What qualification had he for such a position--a diviner, a man whose pedigree perhaps would not stand too much search." He looked keenly at Iémon, and noted with satisfaction how the last thrust had gone home. Cho[u]bei must know more of Iémon, ex-Kazuma. He determined on that for the future. He continued--"Withdrawal at this juncture would merely create scandal. Matazaémon is not so bereft of friends that such a step would not cause serious displeasure in high quarters. The insult would find an avenger. Then consider please: the old man is kept alive by the anxiety to see his granddaughter established in life, the line of the Tamiya assured. He will die within the month. If the old woman hangs on too long"--he halted speech for a moment, then coldly--"give her lizard to eat. A diviner, doubtless Iémon San knows Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei by this time. He will never prejudice the man who holds in his hands the purse of the Tamiya. Iémon San and O'Iwa San are left alone. Good luck to you, honoured Sir, in the encounter. In this Cho[u]bei a counsellor and friend always is to be found; and one by no means lacking experience of the world. As for the woman, she is your wife; one to take charge of the house and affairs of Iémon Dono is to hand. No other _rusu_[18] could be found so earnest in duty and so cheap, as O'Iwa San. Take a concubine. This Cho[u]bei will purchase one for you; such a one as will be the object of envy and desire to the whole of young Edo. His opportunities in that line are exceptional. Come! To turn on the lights. On our part at least there is nothing to conceal." Iémon did not pay attention to the hint. The one thought harassing him must out--"lop-sided and--a leper!" He spoke with despair and conviction, eyes fastened on Cho[u]bei, and such a frightened look that even Cho[u]bei had pity. One foot in the room he turned back. "That is not so--absolutely." Iémon could not disbelieve the earnest testimony. Said Cho[u]bei--"The wounds of smallpox were no trivial ones. In healing the scars were such in places as form over burns. Hence the shining surface. Positively there is no leprous taint in Tamiya." He was gratified by the sigh which came from Iémon, sign of the immense weight lifted off the young man's mind. "Bah! leave things to the future, and--enjoy the present. O'Iwa cannot grow ugly with age. So much is gained. What difference will her looks make to Iémon thirty years hence? She is a woman. Make a child on her. Then you are free to turn elsewhere." At once he began to place lights everywhere, as a sign to Kondo[u] that all was well. This worthy came forward with other guests, to congratulate the Tamiya House on being once more in young and vigorous hands. It was Iémon himself who gave the signal to retire. How matters went alone with his bride has reference to one of those occasions over which the world draws the veil of decency. In the morning O'Iwa arose early to attend to the matutinal needs of her spouse. The ablutions performed, Iémon sat down to tea, as exquisite and exquisitely served as in any dream in literature of how such ceremony of the opening day should be performed. Then the morning meal was brought, under the same supervision of this woman, as expert in all the technique of her craft as she was ugly in feature; and that was saying much. Iémon watched her movements in the room with curiosity, mixed with a little pain and admiration. He was quick to note the skill with which she concealed the slight limp, due to the shrinking of the sinews of one leg and causing an unevenness of gait. It was a blemish in the little quick movements of a woman of surpassing grace; who by art had conquered disease and an ungainly figure. O'Iwa had left the room for a moment to get flowers to place in the vases, offering to the _hotoké_ (Spirits of the departed) in the Butsudan. On his return Iémon held the _ihai_ (memorial tablets) in his hands. A priest, these had at once attracted his notice. "Kangetsu Shinshi; Kangetsu Shimmyo[u]; O'Iwa San, these people have died on the same day of the month--and the year?"--"Is on the back of the _ihai_," replied O'Iwa. "No; it is not a case of suicide together." Then seeing his evident curiosity she motioned him to sit as she poured tea, ready for a long story. With its progress voice and manner grew more strained and earnest. She never took her eyes from the _tatami_ (mats). "The tablets are those of the father and mother of this Iwa. My mother's name was Mino. Daughter of Tamiya she acted badly with my father Densuké, a mere servant in the house. This Densuké was a good man, but his status of _chu[u]gen_ made my grandfather very angry. He drove the twain from the house. Thus deprived of means to live, my father took a position as cook in the _yashiki_ of a great noble. Here he was frightened into becoming the tool of a very wicked man. Having killed an usurer this man forced my father to dispose of the body under penalty of death if he refused. The body being placed in a cloth, my father had carried it to his house. During his short absence my mother's curiosity led her into untying the bundle. Her screams aroused the neighbourhood. As they entered she was seized with convulsions, and gave birth to this Iwa, thus brought into the world together with the exposure of the crime. My father, doubtless warned by the crowd, fled from Edo. My mother had but time to tell her story to the _kenshi_. Then she died. A year later to the day my father's dead body was found floating in the castle moat, near the town of Yu[u]ki in Shimosa. A beggar man, but little inquiry was made into the crime. For long the cause and the criminal were unknown. Then a _banto[u]_ was robbed in the Shiba Kirido[u]shi; his companion was killed. The criminals were traced, and on confession were put to death. The leader and most wicked of them also confessed to the murder of the usurer Jusuké and to that of my father Densuké. My father had met him again in Yu[u]ki town, and had aroused in him fear of denunciation of past crimes. He spoke of 'this Densuké' as a superstitious, haunted fool; thus in his wickedness regarding my father's remorse and desire to clear up the strange affair. The execution of this man removed all chance of my avenging the deaths of father and mother on himself. But he has left behind a son. The one wish of this Iwa is to meet with Kichitaro[u]; to avenge on him the wickedness of his father Takahashi Daihachiro[u]." Iémon at first had followed in idle mood her story. With the development of the details he showed an attention which grew in intensity at every stage. With the mention of the name of Takahashi Daihachiro[u] he gave a violent start. Yanagibara Kazuma, Iémon Tamiya--what were these but names to cover this Kichitaro[u], the one-time priest Myo[u]shin of the Jo[u]shinji at Reigan Fukagawa, and son of Daihachiro[u]. Strange was this retributory fate which had brought these two into the most intimate relations of husband and wife. When Iémon could control his voice he said--"That O'Iwa San should have this feeling in reference to the wicked Daihachiro[u] can be understood. But why such hatred toward this Kichitaro[u]? Surely the boy is not to be held guilty of the father's offence!"--"That is a man's way of reasoning," answered O'Iwa. "A woman, ignorant and foolish, has but her feelings to consult. To seven births this Iwa will clutch and chew the wicked son of a wicked father. Against Kichitaro[u] is the vow made." She raised her head. Iémon turned away shuddering. She had aged into a hag. The shining face, the marks like black spots in pumice standing out, the mere dots of eyes in their puffy bed, the spreading mouth with its large shining teeth--all turned the plain gentle girl into a very demon. The certainty, the intensity, of a malignant hate was driven into Iémon. He was so frightened that he even nodded assent to her last words. The gentle voice of O'Iwa added--"Iwa is ugly; perhaps annoys by the tale. Leave the affair to her and to the enemy. To Iémon she is bound for two existences. Deign to drop all formality; call her Iwa, and condescend to regard her with affection." And Iémon covenanted with himself so to do. The present should compensate for the past. But in the days which followed O'Iwa sat on him as a nightmare. He felt the impress of her teeth at his throat, and would wake up gasping. Time made the situation familiar. He carefully lulled her into a blind admiration and belief in her husband Iémon. There seemed no likelihood of O'Iwa learning the truth; or believing it, if she did.[19] CHAPTER VIII IF OLD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT Matazaémon's illness justified all the predictions of Cho[u]bei. In the course of the month it was plain that his last hold on life was rapidly weakening. In that time Iémon had won golden opinions from household and neighbours. His face was beautiful, and this they saw. His heart was rotten to the core, and this he kept carefully concealed. The incentive of his fear of O'Iwa kept up the outward signs of good-will. He found this easier with the passage of the days. Plain as she was in face and figure, no one could help being attracted by the goodness of O'Iwa's disposition. Iémon, in his peculiar situation, placed great hopes on this, even if discovery did take place. Day following day he began to discount this latter contingency. To a feeling of half liking, half repugnance, was added a tinge of contempt for one so wrapped in her immediate surroundings, whose attention was so wholly taken up with the matter in hand. She easily could be kept in ignorance, easily be beguiled. One day Iémon was summoned to the old man's bedside. He was shocked at the change which had taken place in a few hours. Propped upon pillows Matazaémon would speak a few last words. With a shade of his old impertinent official smile and manner--"The Tamiya is to be congratulated on its great good fortune in the entrance of one so well qualified by appearance and manners to uphold its reputation. Deign, honoured Muko San, to accept the thanks of this Matazaémon. All else has been placed in the hands of Iémon--goods, reputation, granddaughter." Iémon bowed flat in acknowledgment and protest at the good-will expressed. Continued Matazaémon--"There is one matter close to the old man's heart. Concerning that he would make his last request to the admirable heart of Iémon. Iwa is a plain girl. The end of time for man, and the carping comment of neighbours come to his ears, have opened the eyes of Matazaémon to the truth. Great has been the favour in disregarding this plainness and taking her to wife. Everything is in the hands of Iémon San. Consider her happiness and deign to use her well. Abstain if possible from taking a concubine. At all events conceal the fact from Iwa, if it be deigned to keep such company. Plainness and jealousy go together. Faithful and upright, such a disposition as hers is not to be strained on that point. She would be very unhappy. Better the light women of Shinjuku Nakacho[u], than one who takes the place of the wife. Condescend to remember this last request of Tamiya Matazaémon." He clasped the hand of Iémon, and tears were in his eyes as he spoke. Iémon, too, was affected. It almost frightened him to be left alone with O'Iwa. "Deign not to consider such unlikely contingency. The amiability of O'Iwa is compensation for the greatest beauty. Who could think of injuring her in any way? Perhaps a child soon will be the issue. With this in mind condescend to put aside all gloomy thoughts. Concentrate the honoured will on life, and complete recovery to health will follow. Such, indeed, is the daily prayer of this Iémon at the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji." Matazaémon smiled faintly--with gratification or grimness? Perhaps death unseals the vision. Often indeed did Iémon present himself at the family temple; he the substitute for the Master of Tamiya. But as often did his feet return by the diametrically opposite direction, running the gauntlet of the charms of the frail beauties of Nakacho[u]. Iémon held on to the hand of Matazaémon, swearing and forswearing himself with the greatest earnestness and the best of intentions. Suddenly he raised his head. The emotion aroused by the interview had been too much for the old man's fluttering heart. His head had slipped down sideways on the pillow. A little stream of dark bitter refuse flowed from the mouth and choked him. He was dead. Great was the grief of wife and grandchild; great was the importance of Iémon, now in very fact Master of Tamiya. Whether or not he followed the advice of Cho[u]bei, and gave the old woman _tokagé_ (lizard); whether her constant small journeys to the houses of neighbours, reciting a litany of praise of this wondrous son-in-law; whether the loss of the companion of so many years wore out the feeble frame; it is fact that O'Naka followed her lord before the maple leaf turned red. Again the Tamiya was the scene of the funereal chanting of the priest. The corpse removed with the provision for the guests and watchers at the wake, the seventh night of the death observed, with this removal of the deceased spirit from the scenes of its former activities Iémon could turn himself without impediment to the life of the future. Outward change there was none. He was the same kind and affectionate husband as of former days. Neighbours, anticipating some change of manner, were still louder in their praises. One day there appeared at Tamiya two intimates, Natsumé Kyuzo[u] and Imaizumi Jinzaémon. "Iémon Uji, a matter of importance presses. We are on our way to the ward head, Ito[u] Kwaiba Dono. Deign to go in company. You are known to be an expert at _go_,[20] a game at which the old man prides himself for skill. He chafes at the presence of this unknown rival, heard of but not yet tested. A dinner and wine are at stake. Without Iémon Uji we do not dare to present ourselves. Condescend to go in company. To know the great man of the ward, the wealthy Ito[u] Kwaiba, is of advantage even to Tamiya." Iémon laughed and assented. He was soon dressed for the greater ceremony of a first visit. All three climbed down into their clogs, and set out for the house of the Kumi-gashira near Samégabashi. If Iémon had been impressed by the wealth of Tamiya, he felt insignificant before that of the head of Yotsuya. Ito[u] Kwaiba was a man of sixty-four years, retaining much of the vigour of his youth. For the past ten years he had added _go_ to his twin passions for wine and women, neither of which seemed to have made any impression on a keenness of sight which could read the finest print by the scanty light of an _andon_, teeth which could chew the hard and tough dried _mochi_ (rice paste) as if bean confection, and an activity of movement never to be suspected from his somewhat heavy frame. At the name of Tamiya he looked up with much curiosity, and Iémon thought his greeting rather brusque. He saluted with great respect--"Truly fear is inspired. For long no visit has been paid to the honoured head. Coming thus without invitation is very rude. Intrusion is feared."--"Nay! Nay!" replied Kwaiba, apparently attracted by the splendid externals of Iémon. "The failure to visit is reciprocal. In fact, Tamiya and this Kwaiba have been at odds these many years. Visits had altogether ceased. This, however, is no matter for the younger generation. But Iémon San is indeed a fine fellow. So Kwaiba had heard from all he met. Ah! A fellow to put all the girls in a flutter. He is the very image of this Kwaiba in younger years. The husbands were little troubled when he was around. The fair ones were attracted. Well, well: they all had their turn at Kwaiba; and Kwaiba has stood the pace. He is as good to-day as ever; in some ways.... And it is a man like Iémon San who has married the--lady of Tamiya." Iémon knew the term "O'Baké" had nearly slipped out. Knowing O'Iwa's attractiveness of temperament, feeling touched in his own conceit, this astonished and satirical reception he met with on every side nettled him more than a little. Perhaps Kwaiba noted it. With greatest unction he urged a cushion and at once changed the subject. "Iémon San is noted as a _go_ player. This Kwaiba is a mere amateur. It is for him to ask odds in making request for a game.... Ho! Heigh! The _go_ board and stones!" Kwaiba and Iémon were the antagonists. Natsumé and Imaizumi sat at the sides of the board. Kwaiba, confident in his powers, readily accepted the deprecatory answer of Iémon at its face value. The game was to be on even terms. Iémon really was an expert of the sixth grade; certainly of several grades superiority to Kwaiba.[21] The latter's brows knit as his position rapidly became imperilled. Natsumé was in a ferment. Fish or wine? If Iémon sought Kwaiba's favour by a preliminary sound thrashing at his favourite game, the prospects of either were small. He dropped his tobacco pipe. In picking it up he gave the buttocks of Iémon a direct and severe pinch. Iémon was too astonished to cry out. His ready mind sought a motive for this unexpected assault and pain. The face of Natsumé was unmoved, that of Imaizumi anxious. A glance at Kwaiba's attitude enlightened him. Politeness and a dinner were at stake. Even Natsumé and Imaizumi wondered and admired at what followed. The blunder of Iémon was a stroke of genius, the inspiration of an expert player. It was a slight blunder, not obvious to the crudeness of Kwaiba; but it opened up the whole of Iémon's position and put the game in his antagonist's hands. Kwaiba promptly seized the advantage. His triumphant glance shifted continually from Iémon to the onlookers, as the former struggled bravely with a desperate position. Kwaiba won this first game somewhat easily. A second he lost by a bare margin. In the third he scored success in a manner to make evident his superiority over a really expert player. Confident in his championship of the ward, he was all geniality as at the end he sorted and swept back the _go_ stones into their polished boxes. "_Go-ishi_ of Shingu; soft as a woman's hands. But never mind the sex. Now for fish and wine.... However, Hana can serve the liquor for us." To the servant--"Heigh! Some refreshments for the honoured guests; and convey the request of Kwaiba to O'Hana San, to be present." With the wine appeared O'Hana San. She was a beautiful girl. Of not more than twenty years, on the graceful sloping shoulders was daintily set a head which attracted attention and admiration. The face was a pure oval--of the _uri_ or melon, as the Nipponese class it--with high brow, and was framed in long hair gathered below the waist and reaching nearly to her ankles with its heavy luxuriant mass. She was dressed for the hot season of the year in a light coloured Akashi crape, set off by an _obi_ or broad sash of peach colour in which were woven indistinct and delicate wavy designs. The sleeves, drawn a little back, showed the arms well up to the shoulder. Glimpses of a beautifully moulded neck and bosom appeared from time to time as she moved here and there in her preparation of the service of the wine utensils. The delicate tissue of the dress seemed to caress the somewhat narrow hips of a girlish figure. Every movement was studied and graceful. This O'Hana had belonged to the Fukadaya at Yagura no Shita of Fukagawa. She had been what is known as an _obitsuké_ harlot, wearing the _obi_ in the usual form, without the loose overrobe or _shikaké_ of the common women. "In the period of Tempo[u] (1830-1843) all Fukagawa harlots were dressed in this manner." Attracted by her beauty old Kwaiba had ransomed her and made her his concubine. For nearly two years she had held this position in his house. In serving the wine she came to the front and knelt before Iémon as first to receive it. In handing him the tray with the cup she looked into his face. The start on the part of both was obvious. Some of the wine was spilled. Said Kwaiba--"Then Iémon Uji, you know this woman?" His tone was hard and truculent. It conveyed the suspicion of the jealous old male. Iémon's former profession stood him in good stead. He had a glib tongue, and no intention to deny what had been made perfectly obvious--"It is fact, and nothing to be ashamed of on the part of Iémon; except as to attendant conditions beyond control. I was a diviner on the public highway."--"So 'twas heard," grumbled Kwaiba. "Without customers, and with no use for the diviner's lens but to charr the rafters of the garret in which you lived." Iémon did not care to notice the attack. He merely said--"Deign not to find amusement in what really is a serious matter to one who has to suffer poverty. While seated at the diviner's stand attention was drawn by a girl coming down the Kuramaé. Slouching along close by her was a drunken _samurai_. From time to time he lurched entirely too close to her. Turning unexpectedly her sunshade caught in his _haori_ (cloak), which thereby was slightly torn. At once he flew into a great rage. Laying hands on her he showed no disposition to accept her excuses. 'Careless wench! You have torn my dress. How very impudent of you. Unless you at once accompany me to the tea house close by, to serve the wine and please me, pardon, there is none; be sure of that.' The people had gathered like a black mountain. Nothing was to be seen but heads. O'Hana San was in the greatest embarrassment, unable to free herself from the insults and importunities of the drunken fellow. The _samurai_ was hid under the diviner's garb. Stepping from the stand I interposed in the girl's behalf, making apology, and pointing out the rudeness of his behaviour to the drunkard. Instead of becoming calm he raised his fist and struck me in the face. His condition gave the advantage without use of arms. Locking a leg in his tottering supports I threw him down into the ditch. Then with a word to O'Hana San to flee at once, we disappeared in different directions. The _samurai_ Iémon again became the diviner. That part of his rôle this Iémon regrets; but a weapon he could not draw in the quarrel. Later on meeting O'Hana San at the Kwannon temple of Asakusa thanks were received, for what was a very trivial service."--"And again renewed," said the beauty, raising her downcast face to look direct into that of Iémon. Said Kwaiba--"Ah! That's the tale, is it? A fortunate encounter, and a strange reunion; but the world is full of such. O'Hana, it comes in most befitting that opportunity is afforded to favour the rescuer with something of greater value than thanks. Pray serve him with wine." Then did Kwaiba take the matter as a man of the world. But he was no fool, "this old _tanuki_ (badger) of a thousand autumns' experience on hill and in dale." He understood very well that between Iémon and O'Hana there had been a closer connection than that of mere accident. CHAPTER IX LOVE KNOTS Many were the visits paid by Iémon to contest at _go_ with Ito[u] Kwaiba. Rapid was the progress of the love affair between a young man and a young woman, both inspired with a consuming passion for each other. In former days--something more than two years before--when Iémon was priest in the Jo[u]shinji of the Reigan district of Fukagawa, and was spending the money of the _osho[u]_ so freely, he had met O'Hana at the Fukagawa of Yagura no Shita. Just entering on her career, she at once captivated him with a permanent passion. It was in her company that the funds of the temple had been cast to the four winds of heaven. His love had been fully reciprocated by O'Hana. The one purpose was to ransom the lady, and then to live together as husband and wife. Such was the engagement plighted between them. However, the ransom figure was large. Iémon--or Kazuma at that time, he dropped his priestly name when out of bounds--had already planned a larger raid than usual on the ecclesiastical treasury. Warned by O'Hana that his operations had been discovered, he had sought safety in flight; not without a last tearful parting with his mistress, and assurance that fate somehow would bring them again together. The engagement thus entered on was to flourish under the new conditions. As to this pursuit of O'Hana, in which the maiden was coy and willing, the lover circumspect and eager, or at least thought he was, those around the pair were soon well informed; that is, with the exception of the most interested--O'Iwa and Kwaiba. The marked neglect which now ensued O'Iwa took in wifely fashion; and attributing it to some passing attraction of Shinjuku Nakacho[u], she did not take it to heart as she would have done if a concubine had been at issue. As for Kwaiba, the usually astute and prying old man was so immersed in his _go_ as to be struck blind, deaf, and dumb. The matter coming to the ears of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei, the worthy gentleman was seriously alarmed. If true, the old man had indeed reached a parting of the ways, at which he had to satisfy Iémon, Master of Tamiya, O'Iwa, his ward, and Ito[u] Kwaiba, the powerful influence in the daily life of all of them. That night there was a meeting at the house of Kwaiba, a competition in _gidayu_ recitation, dancing, and poetry (_uta_) making. He presented himself in season at the door of the Tamiya. "Ah! O'Iwa San; and to-night does Iémon join the company at the house of the _Kumi-gashira_? Rokuro[u]bei comes from Kawagoé, and perhaps is not too late to find company on the road."--"Oya! Is it Kondo[u] Sama? Iya! the Danna has but begun his preparations.... Iémon! The Danna of Yotsuyazaka has come; for company on the way to Ito[u] Sama's house.... Deign to enter. In a short time Iémon will be ready." Kondo[u] looked at her quizzically. There was no sign of distress or misgivings in this quarter. He felt encouraged. Probably the rumour was false or exaggerated; perhaps it was wholly due to the malice of Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, from whom that day he had heard it. He turned to greet Iémon, who emerged ready for the street. At the entrance they halted. Said Iémon--"It will be a long drawn-out affair. Deign to retire, and not await the return." Replied O'Iwa--"A small matter. The sound of the Danna's footstep will arouse Iwa to receive him." Iémon laughed. "How so? How distinguish my steps from those of Akiyama San or other constant callers?" Said O'Iwa gravely--"When the wife can no longer distinguish the husband's footstep, then affection has departed. O'Iwa will be ready to receive Iémon, no matter what the hour."--"And, indeed, a late one," put in Kondo[u]. "The party consists mainly of young men. After it they will adjourn to Nakacho[u]. Is it allowed to Iémon Dono to accompany them?" O'Iwa winced a little. "The Master is always master, within and without the house. He will do as he pleases."--"Gently said; like a true wife. Truly such a married pair are rarely to be encountered. They are the mandarin duck and drake of Morokoshi transplanted to Yotsuya. Rokuro[u]bei feels proud of his guardianship." As he and Iémon took their way along the Teramachi, he said--"Iémon is indeed a wonderful man. He is handsome and pursued by the women. O'Iwa undeniably is ugly; yet never is there failure to show her respect and consideration, in private as well as public. One's life here in Yotsuya is open to all the neighbours, and these speak well of Iémon." Said the younger man, in matter of fact tone--"Who could fail toward Iwa? She is amiability itself. Plain, perhaps, but gentleness is the compensating quality, a truer source of household wealth than beauty."--"Well spoken! Deign to keep it in heart, for the neighbours' tongues wag as to Iémon and O'Hana. Malice can cause as much unhappiness as downright wickedness. Besides, Kwaiba is no man to trifle with." Iémon was a little put out and alarmed at the directness of Kondo[u]'s reference. "Be sure there is nothing in such talk. A slight service, rendered in earlier days, makes O'Hana San more cordial to one otherwise a stranger. The excess shown is perhaps to be discouraged. But Ito[u] Dono is good company and has good wine; and besides really is a good _go_ player. It would be loss to shun his house." Kondo[u] noted a first symptom on their arrival. He spoke sharply to the maid--"Middle age in company with youth plainly finds a poor reception. Is that the master's order? The clogs of Tamiya are not the only ones. Is Rokuro[u]bei to shift for himself?" The girl, all confusion, made profuse apology as she hastened to repair the neglect. Kondo[u] was easily mollified. "Bah! No wonder. Bring Tamiya near a woman, and all is confusion.... But Ito[u] Dono?"--"This way, honoured Sirs: the Danna awaits the guests." They entered the sitting room, to find Kwaiba in a high state of anger and sulks. For some reason, error in transmission or date or other ambiguity, not a man of the guests had appeared. "The supper prepared is next to useless. We four can do but little in its dispatch. Not so with the wine; let every man do double duty here." He hustled around and gave his orders with some excitement; more than cordial with the guests who had not failed him. There was present one Kibei. Iémon had noted with curiosity his first appearance on this ground. What effect was this factor going to have on O'Hana's position in the household. He had been reassured on the physical point. Kibei was exceedingly ugly, a regular mask, and O'Hana was a woman to make much of physical beauty, as well as strength and ruggedness. He was a younger son of Inagaki Sho[u]gen, a _hatamoto_ with a _yashiki_ in Honjo[u] and an income of three thousand _koku_.[22] It was almost certain that Kwaiba would adopt Kibei. The negotiations had been long continued, and there was some hitch in the matter that Iémon could not make out. What he did realize was Kibei's hostility to himself. A noted fencer, making some sort of a living as teacher of the art, he was the last man with whom Iémon had any desire for a quarrel. Iémon was a coward, and the cold eye of Kibei sent a chill down his spine. Himself, he was always excessively polite in their intercourse. Limited as to number the party tried to make up for the missing guests by liveliness. There was a dance by Kibei, drinking as substitutes of the absent, and competition in _uta_ (poetry). Handing in his own effort--no mean one--Iémon left the room for a moment. As he came out on the corridor, and was about to return to the guest room, he found the maid O'Moto awaiting him with water and towel. A slight puckering frown came over Iémon's face at this imprudence. Said the girl pleadingly--"Danna Sama, deign to exercise patience. That of the mistress is sorely tried. The absence of the other guests, the pursuit of Kibei Dono, who only seeks to compromise her and secure her expulsion from the house, or even death at the hand of Kwaiba Dono, has driven her well nigh mad. A moment--in this room." Iémon drew back.--"A room apart, and in darkness! The age of seven years once passed, and boy and girl are never to be allowed alone together." He would have refused, but a sudden push and he was within. The _sho[u]ji_ closed at once. Kwaiba's voice called loudly--"Hana! Hana! What has become of the girl? There is no one to serve the wine. If the ugliness of Kibei drives her to cover, Tamiya's beauty should lure her out. Hana! Hana!" O'Hana slipped hastily from the arms of Iémon. Passing through the garden she entered the kitchen and snatched up a _saké_ bottle from the stove. She did not notice that the fire had gone entirely out. She and Iémon entered the sitting room together, from different sides. Rokuro[u]bei looked sharply at Iémon. Kibei was engaged in hot talk with Kwaiba. Said Kondo[u]--"Where have you been? Pressed by necessity? For such a lapse of time! nonsense! Is rice powder found in such a place? 'Plaster'? It does not leave the mark of a cheek on the sleeve." He laid a warning hand on Iémon, skilfully removing the telltale mark in so doing. "What has happened is clear enough. Fortunately Kwaiba and Kibei have got into a dispute over the merits of Heinai and Sho[u]setsu as fencing masters; both of them dead as the long ago quarrels of the Toyotomi and Tokugawa Houses. Heinai was loyal, and Sho[u]setsu a traitor; but Kibei tries the old man and officer by supporting the prowess of the latter. Besides the _saké_ is cold and Kwaiba at start was in a very bad temper. He has thought for naught but his drink and disappointment. Cajole him by agreeing with him, but don't get into a quarrel with Kibei. He is expert with the sword, has a temper as ugly as his face, and would willingly engage in one. He don't like you...." He stopped. Kwaiba was speaking sharply. He had just taken the fresh bottle. "Cold as a stone! How careless you are."--"Not so," said O'Hana in some surprise. "It has just come off the stove." Kwaiba put the bottle in her hand, to her confusion. "O'Hana must have been asleep; or much engaged, not to note the difference." For the first time he looked sharply at her, then at Iémon. O'Hana often executed great freedom with him--"Asleep! Just so; and no wonder. Without guests the evening has been stupid enough. If Tamiya Sama had brought his wife with him it would have been complete." Kwaiba, Kibei, Kondo[u] smiled at the sally. Iémon took the cue, and chose to resent the words. He said coldly--"O'Iwa certainly brings spice into everything she engages in. Her intelligence is unusual." O'Hana looked at him; then smiled a little, reassured. Passing behind him she stumbled. "Forgotten"--Iémon felt a letter thrust into his hand, which he passed quickly to his sleeve. Then he and Kondo[u] rose to take their leave. The usual salutations followed. As if to compensate for the failure of the entertainment all joined in seeing them depart. Kwaiba was still grumbling and half quarrelling with O'Hana. O'Moto was engaged with Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. Kibei insisted on aiding Iémon; and Iémon did not dare to refuse his services in donning the _haori_. As he adjusted the awkward efforts of Kibei on one side, this amateur valet made a mess of it on the other. Besides, neither of them was any too steady on his feet. Then Kondo[u] and Iémon set out in the rain. "_Sayonara! Sayonara!_" CHAPTER X THE PLOT AGAINST O'IWA The following morning Iémon sat brooding, mind and tongue clouded by the drinking bout of the previous night. O'Iwa silently busied herself with his renovation. Rokuro[u]bei had delivered him over to her, decidedly the worse for wine and wear. He was somewhat astonished at the young man's easy discomfiture. Middle age with the Nipponese usually means the seasoned and steady toper. Regarding the matter as partly due to her own fault, and reassured by Kondo[u] as to the events of the evening, O'Iwa heated the _saké_ with all the greater care, serving it herself, chatting on the indifferent gossip of the neighbourhood. She spoke of the talk current as to Ito[u] Kwaiba's adoption of an heir. "This man Kibei, his disposition appears to be as ugly as his face." With a little smile she added, "for the latter compensation is to be found in the first-named quality; a truth which he seems to disregard. What will become of O'Hana San?" For the first time since the night before the thought of the letter flashed into Iémon's mind. He put down the renovating morning draft, and on some excuse arose. His _kimono_ lay neatly folded in the _hirabuta_ (flat tray). Hastily he searched the sleeves. There was not a sign of the missive. With clouded brow he returned to the sitting room. A glance at O'Iwa made him feel ashamed. It had never come into her hands. He knew her well enough to be assured that he would have found it, scrupulously laid together with the tobacco pouch, nose wipe (_hanagami_), and divers other minor articles of daily use carried on the person. The whole affair perhaps was a dream. The more he considered, the more he became so convinced. His transports with O'Hana, their surprise, Kondo[u]'s rebuke--so far the evening was tolerably clear. It was only as to the final cups, the rising to depart, the standing in the cold night air, that the exact course of events became clouded. "Ah! It was all a vision. O'Hana never would have been so imprudent." There was a trace of doubt in his mind. He would clear it up at the fountain source--at Kwaiba's house and by the lips of O'Hana. Kwaiba greeted him with almost boisterous cheerfulness. "Ah! Tamiya comes early; a flattering acknowledgment of last night's reception." To Iémon's deprecatory speech and apology--"Don't talk folly, after the manner of a country boor. Iémon San is a man of the world; and will give this Kwaiba credit for being the same. What does it amount to? A matter of a little too much wine.... Hana! Hana! The Master of Tamiya is present. Cut some bean paste, and bring tea. Heat the wine. Matazaémon was so sober an old dog that it is doubtful whether O'Iwa knows aught about the best remedy for past drinking." As Kibei entered--"There is the inventory of the Shimosa farms. Condescend to take a glance at the report of the _nanushi_ (bailiff). Hana will aid." Thus dismissed, the two left the room. Kwaiba turned to Iémon--"A draught: no? Then Kwaiba will drink for both. For him it is a day of rejoicing. The coming of Tamiya is opportune. It was intended to send for him. Deign to aid this Kwaiba with counsel. The adoption of Kibei has finally been settled." The old man's exultation influenced even the indifference of Iémon's aching head. With well-simulated interest he said--"Naruhodo! Kibei Dono is indeed to be congratulated. As to our chief, since everything is to his satisfaction, Iémon is but too glad to speak his pleasure, to offer his congratulations."--"Nay! A little more than that, Iémon Uji. This Kwaiba would seek his aid in another matter of importance. Kwaiba is old. A woman no longer is an object to him. He cannot make a child. If O'Hana should give birth to a child great would be the discomfiture, knowing the truth. What is to be done in such a case?" He now was looking with direct inquiry into the face of Iémon. The latter was much confused. He stammered--"Just so: so indeed. O'Hana San is truly an embarrassment. Doubtless she is also an obstacle to Kibei Dono. She...." Sneered Kwaiba--"Tamiya, though young, is wise. He grasps the situation at once. Deign, Iémon San, to take O'Hana yourself." Kwaiba raised his voice a little. Kibei brought O'Hana with him from the next room. She seemed alarmed and embarrassed. Said Kwaiba--"What have you there; the inventory? Ah! A letter: and there is no one to read a letter like Iémon San. Deign, Sir, to favour us. Iémon San alone can give the contents the proper inflection." He handed it to Iémon. A glance showed the latter that it was a letter from O'Hana, probably that of the previous night. His pocket had been neatly picked by Kibei. It was plain. He had been trapped. The pretended entertainment had been a plot in which the passion of O'Hana had been given full chance to range. Even the disinterested witness, the old fool Kondo[u], had been provided. He caught a curious, mocking smile on the face of the girl O'Moto, just then passing along the _ro[u]ka_. Kwaiba allowed the silence to become oppressive. He seemed to await an incriminating outburst on the part of O'Hana, plainly on the verge of tears. However, the girl caught herself up. Instead she turned a calm, inquiring look toward the three men. Iémon alone looked down, his gaze on the letter the characters of which danced and waved before his eyes. Sharp as he ordinarily was, before this vigorous and astute old man, backed by the ruffianly prospective son with impertinent smile, the cowardice of Iémon deprived him of all spirit. His faculties were numbed. Kwaiba leaned over and removed the letter from his hands. "Since Iémon San will not read the letter, Kwaiba will try to do so; a poor substitute for the accomplished cleric." The old fellow seemed to know everything, as the tone of contempt indicated. He ran the scroll out in his hands--"Naruhodo! Ma! Ma! What's this? From some woman: a lascivious jade indeed!... Eh! Kibei Dono, apology is due your ears. This Kwaiba laughed at your suspicions." He threw down the scroll, as in a fury. Kibei picked it up. He began to read: "Night is the source of pleasure, but greater that pleasure at sight of Iémon. The day comes when Iémon and Hana will be husband and wife, in fact if not in form. 'Ah! Day and night to be at the service of Iémon.' Thus does Hana pray gods and Buddhas. When distant from his side, even though the time be short, painful is its passage. Place this letter next to your very person. May that night come quickly, when the coming of Iémon is awaited. The connection with O'Iwa San is the punishment for sin committed in a previous existence. Condescend to dismiss her from your mind. View the matter wholly in this light. The spiteful brush (pen) refuses further service. Hard, hard, is the lot of this Hana. The honoured Master comes; the heartfelt wish is accomplished. With compliments, To Iémon Sama." HANA. Kwaiba's rage grew and grew with the reading. At Iémon's name he sprang up and made a movement toward the stand on which reposed his swords. Laying a hand on the larger weapon he turned with a scowl--"Ah! This Kwaiba is old, but in vigour he is young. It is for Kwaiba to sport with the women. They are not to make a fool of him." Kibei sharply interposed. "Does Kwaiba Dono gain satisfaction by such a vengeance? To Kibei it seems a poor one. A matter so easily to be settled is not to be made a scandal in the ward. Deign, honoured Sir, so to regard it. To punish both at once with death is proper. But is it expedient? Condescend to hear the words of Kibei." Kwaiba pulled himself up. It was as if some one had dragged him back. His rage departed. A cold malice took its place. He smiled blandly--"One does not quarrel over a harlot. Kwaiba spares their lives. Iémon shall take Hana home--as wife."--"As wife!" Iémon broke through his fear. "Surely the honoured _Kashira_ is unreasonable. This Iémon is but the _muko_ of Tamiya. To demand that O'Iwa San be discarded is going too far. Positively in this matter, though there have been love passages, the most intimate relation has never followed--now or in previous relations."--"You lie!" said Kwaiba coldly. "Furthermore 'tis a matter not passing the period of last night. But that is not to the point. Against Matazaémon this Kwaiba has a grudge--as yet unsatisfied. Through O'Iwa San this shall be paid. With Iémon no harsh measures are adopted. Nay; Kwaiba comes to his aid. You, too, Kibei, shall assist.... Ah! For the ready consent, thanks. Ma! A delicious revenge is that gathered by Kwaiba. O'Hana the harlot takes the place of the Ojo[u]san. And she loves Iémon! In our feasts Natsumé and Imaizumi get the skin of the omelet; Iémon the centre. Then O'Iwa is to be driven out. To that Tamiya cannot object. He substitutes honey for garlic;[23] O'Hana the flower for the ugly toad O'Iwa. Splendid! Splendid! But how? Ah! Here's Kondo[u], just in the nick of time. Rokuro[u]bei, aid us with your experience and influence. Aid us with Iémon, who would cleave to the O'Baké." Put in possession of the facts Kondo[u] was aghast. He had come to the parting of the ways; and under conditions which assured his participation in the plot. At first he turned on Iémon with bitter recrimination. "Oh! A virtuous fellow, who would drink a man's wine, lie with his woman, and then preach morality to a household! But the mischief is done. If not the paramour of O'Hana San, everybody believes it to be so...." Kwaiba held up his hands in well-simulated anger. Kibei and Rokuro[u]bei interfered. Iémon's last resistance was broken down. To talk? That is the business of a priest. Soon he was as eagerly engaged in the plot as if he had left the house in Samoncho[u] for that purpose. Said Rokuro[u]bei--"What difficulty does the matter present? Set on Watanabé Goro[u] to tempt and make love to O'Iwa. He is badly in debt. The handsome man of the ward everyone would suspect her fall. Surprised by Iémon, O'Iwa is driven out as unchaste. This Kondo[u] stipulates that matters go no further. After all O'Iwa is innocent of offence. The husband's full rights are not to be excused. Neither she, nor Watanabé is to suffer injury." Kibei laughed outright at the idea of a drawn sword in Iémon's hand. Iémon turned the contempt on to Kondo[u]. Sneering, he replied--"The plan is worthless. O'Iwa is chastity itself. In the absence of this Iémon no man is allowed entrance to the house." Kwaiba knitted his brows--"Kakusuké! Kakusuké!" As the _chu[u]gen_ appeared--"Go yonder to the house of Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon San. Say that the Kumi-gashira would speak with Akiyama San." As the man departed--"Cho[u]zaémon is the man. For gossip and malice he is a very woman. Rejoice and he weeps; weep and he rejoices. If Akiyama cannot concoct some plan to get rid of O'Iwa, then no one can.... Alas! O'Hana and Iémon must die by the hand of this Kwaiba. Kibei will give his aid." The old man and Kibei got much enjoyment out of the cowardice of Iémon and the fright of O'Hana. But not for long. Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, the one-time boy lover of O'Iwa; a long, lean, hungry-looking man, with long, cadaverous face and a decidedly bad eye, appeared with the _chu[u]gen_ Kakusuké close behind. The latter seemed a sort of policeman attending the none-too-willing Cho[u]zaémon. The latter's brow lightened at sight of the company. He owed Kwaiba money. Sending away the servant, Kwaiba unfolded the situation. Said Cho[u]zaémon--"Heigh! Tamiya takes the cast off leman of Ito[u] Dono. Fair exchange is no robbery; Kibei Uji against O'Hana San. Iémon San goes into the matter with eyes wide open. The lady is an old intimate, it is said." This manner of approaching the subject was Cho[u]zaémon's way. He cared nothing for the scowls of Kibei nor the wrath of Kwaiba. He was needed, or they would not have called him to counsel. As for Iémon, he was grateful to Cho[u]zaémon; as neighbour, and for the insult to Kibei and Kwaiba. Continued the mediator--"The obstacle of course is the O'Baké. O'Iwa is to be driven out. And Watanabé won't answer? Maa! Chastity in an O'Baké! It is a thing unheard of. 'Tis such, once of womankind, who seduce living men. Tamiya is now head of the House. O'Iwa once driven out, the property remains in his hands as its representative. She must be forced to leave of her own will. Good; very good. What is it worth to Kwaiba Dono?"--"Look to Iémon for commission," said Kwaiba roughly. "Nay! Nay!" mouthed Cho[u]zaémon. "Kwaiba is Kwaiba; Iémon is Iémon. The two are to be settled with separately. If Kwaiba Dono had gone to extremes at the start no question would have been raised. To do so now, with all present and after discussion, is out of the question. Kwaiba Dono wishes to adopt Kibei Uji; to get rid of O'Hana San. Iémon San has been neatly trapped. He must consent. O'Hana is a woman. She has no voice in the matter. All this is clear. But as to Cho[u]zaémon's labour in the affair; that it is which interests this Akiyama." He gave a sour reprimanding look at Kibei. Then he looked impertinently from Kwaiba to Iémon, and from Iémon to Kwaiba. Iémon in delight nodded assent. Cho[u]zaémon promptly turned his back on him and faced Kwaiba. At first the old man was very angry at the acuteness of Cho[u]zaémon. The sharp, free exposure did not please him. Then the idea of countering on this acuteness made him good tempered. He grumbled--"The ten _ryo[u]_ owing to Kwaiba at the New Year--principal and interest; such is the fee for a successful issue." Cho[u]zaémon held up his hands in pretended horror--"Pay back borrowed money! Is that expected by the Kumi-gashira?"--"Not 'expected,'" put in Kwaiba promptly. "With the seal of Akiyama San the return is assured." Cho[u]zaémon became thoughtful--"It is true. The last loan was under seal.... Too bad.... Well! Well! The conditions are hard. Submission is necessary. The debt will be forgiven?"--"Kibei and Iémon stand as witnesses," replied Kwaiba--"Then how is this?" said Cho[u]zaémon. All put their heads together. Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon went into details. Kwaiba pushed back his cushion; slapped his thighs. "Cho[u]zaémon, you are cheap at double the money. Just the thing! Eh, Iémon, Uji? Eh, Muko San?" All grinned a raptured assent. CHAPTER XI THE PLOT DEVELOPS For two days Iémon was maturing the preliminaries. He seemed unwell and out of sorts. The third day he did not get up at all. O'Iwa was properly anxious. Said she--"The change in the year is a sickly season. Condescend to take some drug. Allow Suian Sensei to be summoned." Iémon grumbled a dissent. She went on in her enthusiasm--"He is the very prince of doctors. See: here is a salve he recommends; for skin and nerves. O'Hana San, the beautiful concubine of Ito[u] Sama, uses nothing else. He guarantees it on her praise, as means to remove blemishes of any kind or source." Iémon looked up quickly. The connection puzzled and did not please him. Perhaps he noted a puffiness about O'Iwa's face, remembered a repulsion toward marital usages. The women should leave the men to play their own game. He said gruffly--"Suian! A dealer in cosmetics and charms. Have naught to do with his plasters and potions; as cheats or something worse. As for O'Iwa, she is black as a farm hand from Ryu[u]kyu[u] (Loo-choo). O'Hana is fair as the white _kiku_. Can the pastes of Suian Sensei change black to white?" Startled, O'Iwa looked round from the glass into which she was peering. She was taken by surprise. In their personal relations Iémon had always been more than considerate. For some weeks in secret she had been using this drug of Suian Sensei. In childhood O'Iwa had shown something of an epileptic tendency. This had worn off with time. Of late the recurrence had alarmed her. The drug of Suian, at the time anyhow, made her less conscious of the alarmed critical feeling which heralded the inception of the attacks. Iémon gave her but time to catch the meaning of his insult. He went on--"Probably it is but a cold. Some eggs, with plenty of hot wine, will obviate ill effects. Deign to see that they are prepared." The channel of O'Iwa's thoughts changed. At once she was the housekeeper and nurse, and all solicitude to make him at ease. In the course of the meal of eggs with _saké_ in came Natsumé Kyuzo[u] and Imaizumi Jinzaémon. "Ah! Iémon, pardon the intrusion. Probably the engagement of yesterday with Kwaiba Sama was forgotten.... In bed! A cold? But such is no treatment for the complaint. There should be a cheerful, lively atmosphere.... Ah! Here is the dice box. One can shake dice as well lying down as sitting. Deign to refresh the spirits with play as well as wine." Iémon saw to it that both were available. With surprise at first, misgiving afterwards, O'Iwa heated bottle after bottle of _saké_. The men did not pay the slightest attention to her presence. Absorbed in their game, there was but a rough call from time to time for wine, addressed to the air, a servant, anybody. At the end of the play Natsumé rose to leave in high spirits. Imaizumi and Tamiya were correspondingly depressed. This was but a first day's procedure. Day after day, for the space of half the month, the play was repeated. Iémon had long since recovered. One day he stood with his hands shoved into the folds of his sash. He was very sober and sour. "Iwa, is there money in the house?" She looked at him in surprise. "Matters have not turned out at all well with Kyuzo[u] and Jinzaémon. This Iémon is a hundred _ryo[u]_ to the bad. With spare cash at hand an attempt can be made to repair the loss." O'Iwa prostrated herself before him. "May the Danna deign to consider. To Iwa this pastime of gambling seems a very ill one, particularly in a man of official rank. It is fraught with peril; and the offence once known rarely is pardoned. Condescend to hear and forgive the warning of this Iwa." She stopped a little frightened. Iémon was looking at her in greatest wrath and astonishment. "What! Is there argument from wife to husband? This insolence of behaviour crowns the insult of refusal. The very sight of your face is enough to make one sick at the stomach. Boors and _bakémono_ are shut out at the Hakoné barrier. But you--the guards have been put to sleep, and you have slipped through. Shut up! Get the money, or...." O'Iwa crouched at the _sho[u]ji_, in terror and surprise. The insulting words heaped on her pained and tortured. Now she felt the sharp sting of a hand forcibly applied to her cheek. Without a word she left the room. Returning she brought thirty _ryo[u]_ in gold on a salver. Timidly prostrate she presented it to Iémon. "Condescend to pardon Iwa. That she is ugly and incompetent she knows. Did not Iémon accept her?" The man stuffed the gold in his girdle. In reply--"No: Iémon was cheated by Kondo[u] and Cho[u]bei. A plain woman--perhaps; but a monster, a worse than _rokurokubi_, was never thought of even in a dream. Compensation is to be found. Iémon likes gambling. He will gamble. Have a care to supply the needed funds; and don't interfere." Roughly he shoved her out of the way, and left the house. For long O'Iwa saw nothing of Iémon; but she heard from him. In fact he was living in semi-secrecy at the house of Rokuro[u]bei. Now this messenger, then that, would come to O'Iwa. "If there is no money--sell something. The bearer will indicate. A supply must be found." Thus one thing after another left the house--to be stored in the godown of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei, to whose clever suggestion was due this way of stripping O'Iwa of all she possessed. With goods and clothes went the servants. In the course of a few weeks O'Iwa was living in one room, furnished with three _tatami_ in lieu of the usual twelve in number. Hibachi, _andon_ (night lamp), the single garment she wore, this was all she possessed in the house. Then at last she saw him. The light dawned on a cold snowy morning of early March. O'Iwa rose, opened the _amado_, and started her day. About the fourth hour (9 A.M.) the _sho[u]ji_ were pushed aside and Iémon entered. He looked as if fresh from a night's debauch. His garments were dirty and disordered. His face was sallow, the eyes deep set and weary, his manner listless. O'Iwa gave him the only cushion in the room. Seated before the _hibachi_ (brazier) after some time he said--"A million pardons: the luck has been very bad.... Ah! The place here seems in disorder. It is not fit for a man to live in." He looked around as one waking from a dream. "No wonder: yet all can be restored. Iémon has surprised you?" Said O'Iwa timidly--"Matters are a little at odds and ends. O'Iwa needs but little; a stalk of _daikon_ (radish) and a handful of wheat (_mugi_). Does the Danna remain here? If so...." There was a painful hitch in her voice, a puzzled look on her face. She had one _bu_ in cash. In fact she was hoping for the monthly visit of Yosuké the farmer; if there was a farm any longer. She did not know. "For the night," replied Iémon. "Sleep and food are the essentials of good play. All has been lost in the gambling houses of Shinjuku and Shinagawa, at the Nakanocho[u]. Is there no money in the house?... Evidently not. Deign to secure some, no matter how." He took the silver _bu_ she presented to him. "At least a bath and tobacco can be had. See to it that a meal is ready at even; not much, _sashimi_ (sliced raw fish) and wine. Iémon would play, not eat." With this he rose. O'Iwa heard the sound of the closing gate. Long she remained, her face buried in her knees. In this gloomy situation what was she to do? She looked around. There was not a thing to sell; not even herself. Who would buy the ugly O'Iwa? An idea came into her head. In a moment she was in the street. Soon she stood at the door of her uncle, Yoémon. With this uncle and aunt she had but little to do. Matazaémon had been at daggers drawn with his brother, whom he accused of being a wretched miser, one acquiring wealth by very questionable means for a _samurai_. In old days Cho[u]bei had been a hired agent of Yoémon. The principal had escaped; the second had to leave Yotsuya and its neighbourhood. The Obasan (aunt) came out at O'Iwa's call. She greeted her niece with surprise. "Oya! Oya! Iwa is a stranger to this house. It has been heard that a splendid _muko_ was received at Tamiya." The old woman looked at O'Iwa shrewdly, and not without kindness. O'Iwa took heart. She made answer--"It is true; of late matters have not gone well. Just now Iwa would ask the loan of a _sho[u]_ (1/5 peck) of rice, together with a _bu_ to buy eels or _sashimi_.[24] It is very rude indeed...."--"Very rude indeed!" said a harsh voice close by. O'Iwa shrank to the outer part of the doorway. The aunt fled to the inner part of the house. Continued Yoémon--"And what is Iwa doing at the house of Yoémon? That there is relationship between them this Yoémon does not recognize. Yoémon never exchanged look or word with his brother Matazaémon, nor does he desire to do so with the issue. Let the Tamiya of Samoncho[u] look out for itself. A _muko_ was taken without aid or advice of Yoémon. A stranger, one practising wayside divination, this fine fellow turns out a gambler and a debauched man, to the ruin of the House. Iwa can look to him; ignorant and foolish woman that she is. This Yoémon would contribute to the needs of a beggar before granting even a single _mon_ to Iwa." The grating rattled sharply as the angry old man pushed it to and let fall the bar. O'Iwa looked into the dark recess with pained and startled eyes. So much of a recluse she was learning that Iémon had long been the talk of the ward. She turned, and slowly took her way back to Samoncho[u]. Here the reaction came. Strong was the inclination to laugh and weep; too strong for self-control. In alarm she ran to take from the closet the potion of Suian. Its effect was the opposite of what she expected--or perhaps it was taken too late. For an hour O'Iwa writhed, screamed, laughed in her agony. Then she sank into slumber. On awakening the sun was already well past the zenith. She sprang up in alarm. This meal to prepare--the duty of the wife--and not a step taken. It could not be helped. Just as she was, twisting a towel around her disordered hair, she started out to the place of one Kuraya Jibei of the Asakusa Kuramaé no Saka. This man was a lender on the notes from the rice pensions of the _samurai_--a _fudasashi_ dealer, as these men were called. The distance was great. O'Iwa was tired out on her arrival. At the entrance the _kozo[u]_ or "boy" hailed her sharply. He waved her off. "No! No! Old girl, it won't do. Nothing is to be had here. Please come back the day before yesterday." He barred the way. Said O'Iwa, shrinking back--"Nothing is wanted of the honoured house. An interview with Jibei San, an inquiry to make. Such the request." Something about tone or manner, certainly not pity, made the fellow hesitate--"Jibei San! A beggar woman wants an interview with Jibei San! How about it?"--"Nothing to be had," answered the _banto[u]'s_ voice. "Tell her to read the white tablet hung before the entrance. It is all the house has to give." In speaking he edged around a little. O'Iwa raised the towel from her face. At once he was on his feet. "Ah! For long the honoured lady of Tamiya has not been seen. Many and profitable the dealings with Matazaémon Dono. Condescend to pardon this senseless fellow. He outrivals his companions in lack of brains. Deign to enter." The _kozo[u]_ was all apology--"Condescend wholly to pardon. Deign to have pity on the ignorance shown. With fear and respect...." Looking into O'Iwa's face he was overcome by his feelings. Bursting with laughter he fled to the front of the shop to stuff the dust rag into his mouth in mistake for a towel. This slight error restored his equanimity. The _banto[u]_ looked after him with some fellow feeling and much anger. "He is half idiot. Condescend to disregard his rude speech and manner. After all he is but a _kozo[u]_.... What can this Jibei do for the lady of Tamiya?" "Knowing that the House has dealings with Jibei San, and there being necessity for three _sho[u]_ of rice, it is ventured to ask the loan." Thus spoke O'Iwa. Money, actual coin, was on the end of her tongue, but somehow she could not get the words out. Jibei was not particularly astonished. Since Iémon had taken charge of the affairs of Tamiya, its income was usually discounted well beforehand. Moreover, the rumour of Iémon's gambling was spreading among his connections. Neither Kwaiba nor Akiyama, nor the others engaged, were men to lose sight of the likelihood of fine pickings from the Tamiya. Jibei made prompt answer. "Respectfully heard and understood. It shall be sent.... Ah! It is required now? Matsu! Matsu! Put up three _sho[u]_ of rice for the lady of Tamiya. Its conveyance is to be provided. Place a _bu_ in the parcel. The distance to Yotsuya is great. The _kago_ (litter) men are exacting." O'Iwa's heart leaped with gratitude at the perspicacity of Jibei. He watched her departing figure as far as he could see it. Then he took out a ledger; and against the name of Tamiya he placed a question mark. It was dusk when O'Iwa entered the house at Samoncho[u]. She gave a start on finding Iémon glumly seated before the fireless brazier. "A fine hour for a woman to be gadding the street. And the meal! Unprepared: excellent habits in a wife!----" "To the Danna apology is due. This Iwa is much in the wrong. But for the meal money had first to be secured...."--"Then there is money, or means to procure it? Where is it? How much?"--"Nay, the rice is here. This _bu_ is enough to secure eels, _sashimi_, some delicacy...." She hesitated before Iémon's doubting glare. He was eyeing rice and money. The mark on the bag caught his eye. "Whence was this rice had? And this money? From Jibei, the _fudasashi_ dealer? A visit paid in such garb? Truly the House is disgraced, not only by your ugliness, but by ill conduct. Who could remain in such a den?" O'Iwa threw herself in his way as he rose to leave the room. Clinging to his sleeve she pleaded for pardon, as only a woman can do who has done no wrong. There was an ugly look on Iémon's face as he turned on her. Frightened, she would have fled. Instead she could only crouch like a dog under the blows he showered on her. Then with a violent kick in the groin he rolled her over, and departed. O'Iwa heard footsteps. Had Iémon returned? Despite the pain, she half sat up in her dread. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei appeared. The portly man held up his hands in horror and benevolence at what he saw. "But O'Iwa--what has occurred? Ah! Kondo[u] has heard rumours of what is going on. The _tatami_ (mats), screens, drawers (_tansu_), clothes-baskets--the house is completely stripped to satisfy the thirst for the money of others. Now he has descended to blows! Truly he is a miserable fellow." Kondo[u]'s voice grew loud in his wrath. "This must not go on. Rokuro[u]bei is responsible to Tamiya, to the ancestors. To be subject to a fellow like this will never do. A divorce is to be secured. Let him depart with his plunder. Let him have everything; only to get rid of him. He is husband, and head of Tamiya. But Kondo[u] will be too much for him. A divorce shall be secured. Ito[u] Dono, the ward chief, is to be interested in the affair. Pressure shall be put on Iémon to grant the letter of divorce." Indignation choked the worthy man. O'Iwa spoke slowly, with pain and effort. "Be in no such haste, Kondo[u] Sama. Iémon has not been a good man. Much is known to this Iwa. He buys women at Nakacho[u]. He buys _geisha_. He gambles. These are a man's vices. As to these Iwa has nothing to say. She is the wife, for two lives to maintain the house in good and ill fortune. A good wife does not look to divorce to rectify mistakes. With such remedy Iwa has nothing to do. But is not Kondo[u] Sama the _nako[u]do_? Was he not the mediator in the marriage between Iémon and Iwa? Deign to speak as _nako[u]do_. Rebuke Iémon. Cause this gambling to be brought to an end." Rokuro[u]bei could hardly hear her to the end. His testy impatience was in evidence. He broke into protest--"This is complete madness; utter folly. You allow this fellow to ruin the House. He will dispose of the pension."--"The goods, the House, Iwa, all belong to Iémon; to do with as he pleases. Iwa is the wife. She must submit.... Ah! You refuse. Kondo[u] Sama is no longer the friend of Iwa, to act as _nako[u]do_." What had come into the soul of this gentle woman? Kondo[u] in fright shrank back from the look she gave him--"A very demon! The mother, O'Mino, has returned to life. Oni! Oni! You are not human. Kondo[u] assuredly will have nothing to do with O'Iwa, or O'Iwa's affairs." He left her helpless in the middle of her fit. Forgetting in his fright even his clogs, barefooted, he fled from the house in Samoncho[u]. CHAPTER XII KWAIBA'S REVENGE Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei went direct to the council of the conspirators. He found them assembled in the house of Ito[u]. Kwaiba, Iémon, O'Hana, Cho[u]zaémon, Kibei, were drinking _saké_. Kwaiba as usual was bragging over his prowess in youth extended into age. O'Hana was laughing at him behind his back. Kibei was surly; yet his share of income was assured. Kwaiba roundly berated Iémon for lack of energy. "O'Iwa has been allowed to get the upper hand. Iémon is far too soft to deal with a woman who has been spoiled all her life." Iémon listened in silence, with a rather doubtful smile of acquiescence or contempt. In fact, knowing O'Iwa as he did, he had little confidence in Kwaiba or Cho[u]zaémon, or the methods they proposed. His own plan was maturing. Meanwhile in part it ran parallel. On this assembly burst the discomfited Rokuro[u]bei--"Ah! What an experience! The woman is a very fiend. A new pair of _geta_, bought but yesterday, and left at your house, Iémon Uji." Iémon looked at Kondo[u]'s frightened face and bare feet. Then he burst into a roar of laughter. Kwaiba was indignant. "Is the fright of Kondo[u] San any license to bring his dirty feet on the _tatami_. Deign, good sir, to accept water for the cleansing. O'Hana San now is inmate of the house of Kondo[u]; yet condescend for the moment to act the mistress here." This was part of the arrangement. With the goods of O'Iwa the person of O'Hana had been transferred to the charge of the honest Rokuro[u]bei. There Iémon had easy and decent access to the use of both. Said Iémon--"What happened after this Iémon left Samoncho[u]? Kondo[u] Dono has been frightened." Kondo[u] puffed and fumed as he cleansed his feet at the mounting step. He groaned--"Iémon Dono, you are certainly done for. Was it 'three years,' she said? Her face was frightful. This Rokuro[u]bei has no more to do with the affair. He goes no more to Samoncho[u]. Alas! He will never sleep again. Oh! Oh! To be haunted in the next existence by such a rotten O'Baké." Said Kwaiba--"Did Iémon really beat her? He says he did." Answered Kondo[u]--"She could barely move a limb. Of love for Iémon not a spark is left; but she clings to the honour of Tamiya, to the wife's duty to the House. There is no moving her. Rokuro[u]bei is suspect, as not doing his duty as _nako[u]do_. Look to yourselves. If she ever gets suspicious of the real facts, has an inkling of the truth--look out for yourselves." Kwaiba was thoughtful; Iémon was indifferent. None of them could think of aught but the venture already engaged in. A week, ten days, passed. In that time every effort was made to move O'Iwa to consent to a divorce. As _Kumi-gashira_, Kwaiba summoned her to his house. Before his kindly sympathy O'Iwa melted into tears. The scandalous treatment of Iémon had reached his ears. Why had he not heard of it before it reached such extremes? He looked indignation at his messenger, the one who had brought O'Iwa to his presence, Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon the neighbour of Tamiya, living not far off near the Ten-o[u]. Said the ward head--"Kwaiba always took this Iémon, or Kazuma, for a scoundrel. A stranger, why bring him into the ward? But now he is master of Tamiya. In the place of the excellent, if obstinate, Matazaémon. Alas! The pension of the House is said to be hypothecated for five years. And the household goods; and separate properties of Tamiya--all gone?" O'Iwa nodded assent, and Kwaiba threw up his hands at such wickedness. At all events he counselled her to consider matters, to accept his aid. He would place her somewhere; in the country and far off from the ward in which Iémon as master of Tamiya in its degradation would always be an unpleasant sight and influence in her life; at least until Iémon could be expelled. With the fellow's past career doubtless this would happen before long. Meanwhile O'Iwa was to pass into one of the wretched, overworked, exhausted drudges on one of Kwaiba's Shimosa farms. From his chief's expressed views Cho[u]zaémon dissented. This was the one man O'Iwa distrusted. He had always shown dislike to her. In defense of her conduct Cho[u]zaémon was too clever to show any warmth. He was the subordinate making exact report to his chief. O'Iwa was completely taken in. This friendly neutrality aroused her every grateful feeling. Said Cho[u]zaémon--"Iémon is a coward. A _samurai_ beats neither woman nor dog. If either are unfaithful to him, he kills the offender. Iémon's conduct has been thoroughly bad. Before the reproaches of O'Iwa San, beaten in argument he has retaliated by beating her to a jelly. Her face bears the marks of his violence. As to her body, my wife answers for it that it is a mass of bruises."--"Is that so?" said Kwaiba in deep sympathy. O'Iwa burst into tears. Kwaiba fumed with rage--"Truly Iémon is not a human being. He has the horns of a demon." Then the priest Myo[u]zen, of the family temple, the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji of Samégabashi,[25] appeared at the Samoncho[u] house. To him O'Iwa looked for ghostly consolation against the ills of this world. Instead he merely chanted the old refrain, harped on the scandal brought on Samoncho[u] by the continued bickering of the married pair. Husband and wife had mutual duty toward each other; but also there was a duty toward their neighbours. Iémon was irreclaimable.... This stranger! O'Iwa San should deign to take the active part herself; not afford this ill spectacle and example to the ward. Like most parsons he was convinced by the noise of his own voice, and spoke with the intense conviction of long rehearsal. O'Iwa heard him out with a curious chill at heart. The graves of her beloved _hotoké_ (departed ones) were in the cemetery of Myo[u]gyo[u]ji. The temple had been one of the few generous features, almost extravagances, of Matazaémon. It had profited greatly by his donations. It was the honour of the House against the argument of the priest and the convenience of the neighbours; and all because a bad man had been brought into it. "What the revered _osho[u]_ (prebend) has said reaches to the heart of this Iwa. Submission is to be an inspiration from the revered _hotoké_. Iwa will seek their counsel." Baffled, the priest left the house; veiled censure was on his lips; open disobedience and contempt on the part of O'Iwa. Said Kwaiba--"Cho[u]zaémon has failed. At least this Kwaiba has saved his ten _ryo[u]_--and gained one object. Kondo[u] Dono, thanks for your kind hospitality to O'Hana San. Do you propose to adopt her?" Kondo[u] made an emphatic gesture of protest and dissent. He said--"At least Kondo[u] has the security of goods and money for his generous expenditures."--"Both of them belonging to O'Iwa San; just as Kwaiba holds the acknowledgment of Akiyama San." Cho[u]zaémon made a wry face. The prospect of pressure put on him, with all the added accumulation of the months of interest, was not a cheerful one. Said Kwaiba angrily--"Ah! Whoever would have suspected such obstinacy in the O'Baké; she who always was so yielding within her home and outside of it. She seemed to be such an easy mark. It was merely a matter of ordering her out. And now she baffles this Kwaiba of his revenge!" Iémon laughed outright. Kwaiba looked at him with surprise. Was this charlatan playing a double game? Said Iémon--"Fear enters at the words of the honoured chief. Pray condescend to be easy in mind. As yet Cho[u]zaémon has not failed. At least the question can be argued with the _Kumi-gashira_. It is left to these principals. Iémon is of better counsel." Then after a silence during which Kwaiba intently eyed him--"To-morrow O'Iwa San leaves Yotsuya. Kwaiba Dono gets his revenge on the late master of Tamiya. Pray remember it, in favour of the present incumbent of the House." Said Kwaiba fervently--"Iémon would be a son to Kwaiba! Is it really true--that the O'Baké will be expelled the ward, in disgrace?" Iémon nodded assent. On the following day O'Iwa had completed her ablutions. She arrayed herself in freshly washed robes. Then she took her place before the Butsudan. It was memorial day of the decease of the _hotoké_. Earnestly she prayed--"Deign, honoured _hotoké_, to have regard to this Iwa. The year has not lapsed since the hand of Iwa was placed in that of Iémon. Now the House is brought to ruin. No heir appears to console this Iwa and to continue its worship, to inherit its revenues. 'Take these in hand. Life lies before Iémon for their enjoyment. His revenue will be ample. Deign but to have the honour of the House in mind, the continuance of its line as object.' Such were the words of the honoured Matazaémon when in life. Unworthy has been the conduct of this trust by Iémon. But divorce is a scandal, always to be avoided by a woman. Return the love of Iémon to this Iwa. Deign, honoured _hotoké_, to influence his wandering passions toward this child of the House. Cause the husband to return to Tamiya, once more to uphold its rights and influence. Such is the prayer of this Iwa." She rose, placed the offerings, and struck the little bell with the hammer. As she did so a noise was heard at the entrance. Iémon, carrying fishing rod and basket, and followed by Natsumé Kyuzo[u] and Imaizumi Jinzaémon, burst into the room. All three were more or less drunk. Dumfounded O'Iwa looked from one to the other. Imaizumi carried a tub. Kyuzo[u] knocked it from his shoulders. Then tumbled clumsily down on the cask. None of them had removed the dirty _waraji_ (straw sandals) they wore. "Why do so in such a barn?" hiccoughed Kyuzo[u]. "And this _saké_; Kyuzo[u] found it without, at the kitchen door. Jinzaémon shouldered it. Whence does it come, Iémon San? Faugh! It smells as if the cask had been placed for the convenience of passers-by on the wayside. It stinks. That's what it does." He gave the cask a kick, knocking out the bung. The filthy liquid poured out on the floor. Iémon appropriated the tub. He seated himself on it. "'Tis the fine liquor of Tamiya. All the house possesses. Iémon is hungry." Opening his basket he took out an eel. He began to skin it. A cry from O'Iwa arrested him. His wife sank down before him in attitude of prayer. "Importunate jade! What would you now? Further advice to a husband who wants but to get rid of the sight of an ugly face? Bah! This lump of a wench is neither good for child-bearing nor for house-keeping; she is not even a good _rusu_ (care-taker)." His knife made a rip in the skin of the squirming animal. O'Iwa laid a hand on his sleeve. With a voice in which sobs mingled with the petition--"To-day is a memorial day of the honoured _Hotoké Sama_. Deign to refrain from taking life in the house; nay, before the very _ihai_ in the Butsudan. Such deed will cause pain to the _Hotoké Sama_; bring disaster on the House, perhaps on this Iwa and Iémon San." Iémon fairly roared as he sprang up from the tub--"What! You noisy slut! Is this Iémon to go without food because the _hotoké_ dislikes the smell of eels?... Jinzaémon, can you cook eels?" Imaizumi had sought the _ro[u]ka_. His round featureless face showed his fright and indecision before this critical quarrel of husband and wife. Of all involved in the plot he was the most unwilling in performance of his rôle. But he answered according to rote--"Iya! Iémon Uji, the office of cook is a special one. Jinzaémon is no cook. He leaves that office to his wife. Moreover the cooking of eels is an art in itself."--"And the artist is here," chimed in the malignancy of Kyuzo[u]. "O'Iwa San is noted for her skill."--"Right!" said Iémon. "Kyuzo[u] and Jinzaémon have heard the refusal of O'Iwa. Cook this eel--or else Iémon pronounces the formula of divorce against the disobedient wife." In silence O'Iwa rose. She went to the portable stove. With the bellows she stirred up the fire therein. She did not dare even for a moment to pray at the Butsudan. The skillet was on the fire. The eels were sizzling in the hot liquor. Suddenly Iémon made an exclamation. Taking a towel he grasped the handle of the vessel. The next moment he had forced down the hot pan and its contents on the head of O'Iwa. "Kiya!" With the single cry she fell over backwards, writhing in pain under the infliction of the scalding mess streaming over face, neck, and bosom. Imaizumi fled in dismay. Even Natsumé Kyuzo[u] protested. Seizing the arm of Iémon--"Iémon Uji, you go too far. Don't kill her." "Kill the O'Baké? It's impossible." Iémon spoke coldly. He was the one person of collected wits in the room. Groaning with agony O'Iwa came to her senses. A man was leaning over her. Half blind as she was, she could recognize Cho[u]bei. His look was grave. His voice was reticent and confused. "What has been going on here, O'Iwa Dono? Ah! Cho[u]bei comes at a bad season. Ma! Ma! The house, too; stripped bare to the very boards, and the season still wintry. Truly this Iémon is a beast--a very brute (_chikusho[u]_). What is Cho[u]bei to do? There is this matter of the honour of Tamiya." He wrung his hands as in great perplexity, glancing sideways toward O'Iwa. The first part of his speech she disregarded. Such talk and consolation were growing stale. That all should pity her caused no surprise. Her situation was not unusual. It was the last words which caught her ear. "The honour of Tamiya: Cho[u]bei San?" Cho[u]bei turned away; to put some peppermint in his eyes. Tears stood in them as he turned again to her. O'Iwa was alarmed. "What has happened?" She caught his sleeve, drew close to him. He answered--"Cho[u]bei cannot speak. To find O'Iwa San in such dreadful state renders it impossible to explain. Iémon San has gone too far." So he had, from Cho[u]bei's point of view and for his purposes. These young fellows never can keep within bounds; even in abuse of a woman. His resentment was extreme. O'Iwa insisted. Finally the resistance of Cho[u]bei was overcome. Iémon's name was posted at the Kuramaé of Asakusa. He was in debt on every side. As the final blow, he had stolen the seal of Ito[u] Kwaiba and forged an acknowledgment for twenty _ryo[u]_. Kwaiba's enmity to Matazaémon was well known. He liked Iémon no better, and would pursue him to the end, force him to cut belly, and accomplish the official degradation and extinction of the Tamiya House (_kaieki_). "What is to be done?" He turned squarely to O'Iwa. She said--"Ito[u] Dono has been kind to O'Iwa. Perhaps if request be made...." Cho[u]bei laughed. "Ito[u] Kwaiba is always kind to a woman. It is not O'Iwa San whom he hates. But this is an affair between men. He secures vengeance on Matazaémon through Iémon and this official extinction of Tamiya. It is too tempting. He is not to be trusted. No hint of the deed must reach him. Is there no money at the command of O'Iwa San? The sum is but twenty _ryo[u]_. Iémon brought this news to Cho[u]bei last night. He leaves Edo, to go in hiding, after ... after ... punishing the ... Well! Well! He is a wicked man. Cho[u]bei never suspected such wickedness. But Iémon is not the issue. He represents and can disgrace the Tamiya. There lies the issue. Has O'Iwa San no means, nothing in coin?"--"Less than a _bu_, sixty _mon_." She held out the coppers to Cho[u]bei. Said Cho[u]bei with decision--"There is one resource left. There is the person of O'Iwa San. Deign to go into service at the pleasure quarter. Cho[u]bei is skilful. In seven days these wounds can be healed. Twenty _ryo[u]_ secured, the paper is taken up, the robbery of the seal is never discovered. We can laugh at Kwaiba's anger. All is for the Tamiya." He noted that O'Iwa was hesitating--"It is but as a pledge. The money is advanced on the person of O'Iwa San. A week, ten days, and other sources of loan will be discovered. This is the only measure Cho[u]bei can suggest. He has no means of his own to meet this debt." He smiled as at a thought--"Perhaps Kwaiba himself will pay his own debt!" He chuckled at the idea. "Why not make appeal at once?" repeated O'Iwa, grasping at any straw of safety from this resource, so horrible to the _samurai_ woman. Said Cho[u]bei promptly--"Ito[u] Sama knows perfectly well the state of Samoncho[u]. Asakusa, Honjo[u], are far removed. An appeal for twenty _ryo[u]_ as surety money in applying for a situation would appeal to him; the other would not. Besides, thus far away he could not investigate closely, if he would. He could but say 'yes' or 'no.'" O'Iwa remembered what Kwaiba had said--the necessity of removing to a distance. The words and actions of these rascals dove-tailed admirably. A long silence followed. With exultation at heart Cho[u]bei saw her rise. She put out the fire, gathered together the few personal articles she still possessed. On seeing her struggle with the heavy rain doors he came to her aid. "For the time being accept the hospitality of Cho[u]bei's poor quarters. These wounds are to be healed." With full heart O'Iwa gratefully accepted. She took his hand as if to kiss it. Cho[u]bei hastily snatched it away. In his sleeve, the ink not twenty-four hours old, was the paper of the sale of O'Iwa to Cho[u]bei; her passing over to his guardianship, to dispose of as a street harlot, a night-hawk. The consideration? Five _ryo[u]_: payment duly acknowledged, and of course nominal. The paper of transfer was in thoroughly correct form. Cho[u]bei had drawn it himself. CHAPTER XIII THE YO[U]TAKA (NIGHT-HAWKS) OF HONJO[U] O'Iwa's stay of nearly seven days at Cho[u]bei's house was one of the golden periods of her life. O'Taki received the Ojo[u]san with humble joy. Iémon could not drop Cho[u]bei out of his life of prosperity. O'Iwa was soon brought in contact with the humble pair in adversity. Hers was a generous heart, and O'Taki could not look around her house without some indication of this kindness. Her sympathy with the wronged wife was great. A husband--thriftless, a gambler, inconsiderate--of such a one she had some experience. By the same means this lady was brought to her present pass. It roused her indignation. As to brutality; that was another matter. She squared her stout shoulders and looked derisively at the loose angularity of Cho[u]bei, his rickety physique. But the storm would pass. Ito[u] Sama, Kondo[u] Sama, Myo[u]zen Osho[u], all these were agreed. The Ojo[u]san now out of his reach, without a home to go to, and only hostile faces met with in the ward, Iémon Sama would soon come to terms. Would the Ojo[u]san deign to honour their humble home as long as she liked. She at once suppressed O'Iwa's rather futile attempts to aid in her rough household work. It had been the lady's part to direct her maids in their more repugnant tasks, and now brought right under her hand in this plebeian household. O'Iwa never had undergone the harsher lot of her mother O'Mino. Cho[u]bei in his way was as kind as his wife. At once he devoted himself to the repair of his property. When O'Iwa produced the paste and lotion of Suian Sensei, as sovereign for the complexion, Cho[u]bei took them, smelled and carefully tasted, and finally put some of the paste on the end of the _hashi_ or sticks to arrange the charcoal in the _hibachi_. A smell of garlic pervaded the room. He noted the puffy face of O'Iwa, the unnatural, almost ghastly, white of the skin where the wide pockmarks permitted it to be seen. Within the circles of these scars there was a curious striated effect, only seen at times in the efforts of artists to depict the supernatural, or of savages to frighten their foes. It gave a drawn cadaverous look to the lower part of the face. "There is more in it than _that_," mused Cho[u]bei. During her stay O'Iwa had one of her attacks--of nerves--in fact a true epileptic seizure. Cho[u]bei put an embargo at once on all remedies but his own. Cynically, he added--"But elsewhere there will be no Cho[u]bei. If the Okusama deigns to apply the drugs of Suian Sensei where she now goes, doubtless she will find early relief. At present they spoil Cho[u]bei's efforts." The clever rascal at once recognized his fellow in Suian, bribed to render O'Iwa more hideous than Nature had made her, to take away her womanhood and hope of an heir to the Tamiya. To poison her? That he doubted; although the ignorance of leech and victim might readily lead to such result. Within the seven days O'Iwa San once more could show herself in public. It was now Cho[u]bei's part to carry the plot to completion. Iémon, at the proposition, had said--"Sell her as a night-hawk! An ugly woman like that no one will approach."--"'Tis Cho[u]bei's trade," said the pimp coolly. "In Yoshidamachi they have noses--over night. Between dark and dawn the member melts, becomes distorted, and has to be made. It has served its purpose. This is Cho[u]bei's affair. Provided that O'Iwa never again troubles the presence of Iémon Sama the object is attained."--"That is true. Do what you please. Kill her, if desired. O'Iwa in the Yotsuya; and Cho[u]bei feels the wrath of Ito[u] Dono, of this Iémon." Unwillingly he signed the contract required by Cho[u]bei. He gave the latter a fee of ten _ryo[u]_ for the excision of this excrescence, and with a sigh of joy learned of the disappearance in company of the pimp and O'Iwa. Within three days carpenters and other workmen swarmed over the Tamiya in Samoncho[u]. The master made ready for his return. O'Taki had gone forth on a mission for Cho[u]bei. This would insure her absence for the greater part of the day. Said Cho[u]bei--"Deign, Okusama, to allow Cho[u]bei to prove his art. All his accomplishments have not been displayed." To pass off the ugly woman at night could be done. He was compelled to act by daylight; though relying somewhat on the dusky interior of Toémon's entrance and reception room. This Toémon was the chief of the guild which bought and controlled these unfortunate street-walkers, lowest of their class. Cho[u]bei sat down before O'Iwa. As if in an actor's room he was surrounded with a battery of brushes and spatulas, pastes, paints of all shades of greys, flesh colour, pinks--even reds. Under his skilful hands O'Iwa was transformed. To make her beautiful was impossible. He made her passable. The weather was cold, though spring was now close at hand. Cho[u]bei hesitated. The walk was a long one. His handiwork might fade or melt under the sweating induced by effort. Besides he had no desire for conversation. There were to be as few answers to curious questions as possible. In his house he had left the two women to themselves, and saw O'Iwa only when O'Taki was present. So he called a _kago_ and gave the necessary directions. As the coolies moved off with their fair burden he trotted along in the rear, his project occupying his busy mind. The place of Toémon was at Yoshidacho[u] Nicho[u]me, in the centre of the Warigesui district. To the north was the canal of that name. To the south a second canal ditto; the second stream was the larger, fairer, and more pretentious South Warigesui. An equal distance to the east was the Ho[u]onji Bashi, with the great temple of that name just across the bounding river or canal of the district. As the _kago_ bearers ambled down the bank of the North Warigesui, O'Iwa thought she had never seen a more filthy stream than this back-water with its stale current. The bearers put them down at the canal. Cho[u]bei had some directions to give during the short walk of a couple of hundred yards to their destination. Said he--"For a _samurai_ woman to engage in this business is a serious offence. After all the matter is mere form; a pledge to secure the return of the sealed paper forged by the husband. The wife performs her highest duty in saving the honour of the House. Is not that true?" There was a little sob in O'Iwa's voice as she gave assent. She felt different now that she was close at hand to the scene and crisis of her trial. Continued Cho[u]bei--"The agreement has been made out as with O'Iwa, daughter of Kanémon, the younger brother of this Cho[u]bei and green-grocer of Abegawacho[u] of Asakusa. Deign to remember that the twenty _ryo[u]_ is needed to save a father in peril of default and imprisonment."--"The cases are not so different," whispered O'Iwa. "Just so," said Cho[u]bei. "Here is the place. Condescend to wait a moment, here at the entrance." Briskly he entered the house. "A request to make!"--"Ah! Is it Cho[u]bei San? The Danna Sama is absent for the day, at the office of the ward magistrate. Some drunkard considers that he has been robbed. The girl he accused was punished--perhaps unjustly. All the women of this house are honest."--"Beyond repair," laughed Cho[u]bei. "However, the other matter has been agreed on. The girl is here. An uncontrollable jade! The master has deigned to aid Cho[u]bei. Thanks are felt. Since she will run with the men, it is as well for Kanémon to get the profit of the business. If she breaks out--put a ring in her nose, and treat her as the farmers treat their cattle. Don't let her again bother home or Cho[u]bei. She will lie--of course. At Toémon's they are used to lies?" The woman Matsu laughed--"No fear as to that." She looked over the contract with care. "Ah! She is sold for life service; otherwise the twenty _ryo[u]_ would be a scandalous price. Is that her?... Um! Not a likely jade. Stand a little in the light.... This Matsu would never have closed the bargain without a view. But Toémon San has left no choice. In the scarcity of women, and his good-will to Cho[u]bei San, he would pay any sum. At twenty _ryo[u]_ she is a gem! You can come up here. Také! Haru! A new girl. Take her in charge and show her the house and its ways.... Cho[u]bei San, some tea." Cho[u]bei put a word into this running comment and invitation. As the girls were leading off the hesitating O'Iwa he said loudly and roughly--"Remember to obey the Okamisan (wife) in everything. Whatever she commands is right and must be done: no nonsense. Ah! Something forgotten: a moment please." He drew O'Iwa aside, seeing that she was on the verge of tears. Speaking gently--"Be astonished at nothing; be ignorant of everything. The house of Toémon in Honjo[u] is not the drawing room of Tamiya in Yotsuya. Deign to remember that Cho[u]bei must play his part. Life is like an excursion in a pleasure boat. There are rough places to pass, some danger, and much refuse to get rid of. Condescend to have House and husband in mind. It is but for a week--or so."--"And Iémon San, the House; they will be secure?"--"That Cho[u]bei is assured of. See: he has the twenty _ryo[u]_ in hand. It is mere matter of securing the compromising paper and the return of Iémon. Some negotiations are necessary for that. In the future his behaviour will be much improved." He clinked the coin before her. As O'Iwa passed up the stairs he returned to the _hibachi_ of the wife. The tea was a short course. Cho[u]bei was on needles while drinking it. He feared an outbreak from above in the course of O'Iwa's initiation into a vileness the depth of which she never even could suspect. "Yes: trade is good. Women are difficult to secure. The men prefer to have them in their homes, rather than to gain by their service elsewhere." In such professional talk of a few moments he quickly dispatched the refreshment, climbed into his clogs, and departed. O'Iwa had disappeared far into the depths. Toémon and his wife were quarrelling. Said the woman--"Are you mad, to pay twenty _ryo[u]_ for such an ugly wench? No choice was given. This Matsu was to receive her. Cho[u]bei is a cheat." Toémon and the _banto[u]_ drew O'Iwa under the light, much as if she were a bag of rice--"The clever rascal! From crown of the head to neck she is all made up. And perhaps elsewhere."--"At all events she is a woman." The _banto[u]_ spoke as in doubt. "Never mind: we are great artists, too, if not so good at cheating as this Cho[u]bei. Twenty-six years! She's forty at least.... What may be your honoured age?"--"Twenty-six years," replied the distressed O'Iwa. The wife threw up her hands--"And she does not lie!... Haru! Ko[u]ta! It is time to go out. The bell already strikes the hour of the dog (7 P.M.). Take Iwa to the reception room (_yoséba_). She is to learn the ways of the place; where to entertain her guests.... Come! Along with all of you!" Some ten or fifteen women had gathered in their array for their night's campaign. Paint, powder, plaster, disguised the ravages of disease among the hardened set of this low class house. O'Iwa accompanied O'Haru to what had been called the _yoséba_. The girl explained to her. Here was the place to bring and entertain any guest picked up on the street. They were not the degraded wretches who made the darkness of an alleyway the reception room for their lovers. It was to be remembered that the wine drunk not only profited the house, but paid in commissions for their own cosmetics and other little gratifications. On entering the place O'Iwa shrank back to the wall in horror; to shrink away in turn from the filth and obscenity to be seen on that support. She would have fled, but the entering crowd pressed her further in. It was a long room. The entrance formed a sort of parlour or place to sit. The rest of the apartment was divided longitudinally into little cubicula, rooms of the space of the one dirty mat with which each was furnished. A shelf contained its cynically filthy and suggestive furniture. O'Iwa's disgust and terror was too obvious. O'Haru held on to her arm to prevent flight. The attention of the others was drawn to them. "Does the beauty want an apartment to herself? That is the privilege of the Oiran, the Go Tayu, the Kashiku.[26] Ah! Sister dear; it is to be learned that this place is Hell--First Block. There is no 'second block' (nicho[u]mé). One gets used to anything here; even to use a demon's horns for toothpicks." Thus spoke a hard-faced woman of some thirty odd, by her looks. Said the frightened O'Iwa in low tones--"Iwa has not come for this service. She is but a pledge. This redeemed, within the week she returns to her home. This place upsets one's stomach." Those present laughed loudly. "We all say that. The real reason for our coming is not to be told. Be assured that you must perform the service, or suffer. Condescend not to fall into the hands of the Okamisan. In anger she is terrible." There was a general movement of the women. Said O'Haru, drawing along O'Iwa by the hand--"Come! Make no trouble. A newcomer, you are sure to be successful and please Matsu Dono." O'Iwa resolutely held back. No matter what the suffering she would undergo it. Ah! A week in this place indeed was to be life in Hell. She called up the sight of the dismantled house, the figure of her grandfather, anything to strengthen her will to resist. O'Haru left the room. "Okamisan, the new girl refuses to serve. Haru makes report." The wife of Toémon leaped up from her cushion. Dressed in night clothes, a long pipe in hand, she rushed into the room. "What nonsense is this? Which slut is it that refuses the service of the house?... You! The ink on the receipt for twenty _ryo[u]_ paid for your ugly face and body is hardly dry.... Pledge? A week's service? You lie: as your uncle said you would lie. You are here for life service as a street harlot. Out with you!... No? No?" She was about to throw herself on O'Iwa, to cast her into the street. Then her passion, to outward appearance, cooled. She was the woman of her business, malevolent and without pity. "O'Kin! O'Kin!" The others now gathered around O'Iwa. O'Haru and the girl O'Také plead with her to obey. They tried to hustle her off by force. Said O'Haru--"Report had to be made. This Haru acted for the best. Truly such obstinacy deserves punishment. But Haru is filled with pity. Deign to obey. Go forth to the service. The result of refusal is terrible." O'Iwa shook her head--"O'Haru San is free from blame. Iwa is grateful for the kind words. To go out to this service is impossible." The woman O'Kin strode into the room; a big, strapping wench, and the understudy of O'Matsu in her husband's affections. "A new recruit?" She spoke in inquiry--"Yes: and obstinate. It is a matter of punishment in the _seméba_.... Now! Out with you all! No dawdling!" The irate woman turned on her flock. They fled like sheep into the open. CHAPTER XIV THE PUNISHMENT O'Iwa did not move. The two women approached and laid hands on her. Her yielding made no difference in the roughness of their treatment. Dragged, hustled, shoved, with amplitude of blows, she was already much bruised on reaching the place of punishment--the _seméba_, to use the technical term of these establishments "for the good of the community." During a temporary absence of the mistress, a ray of kindliness seemed to touch the woman O'Kin. She pointed to the square of some six feet, to the rings fastened in the rafters. "Don't carry self-will to extremes. Here you are to be stripped, hauled up to those rings, and beaten until the bow breaks. Look at it and take warning. Kin is no weakling." She shoved back her sleeve, showing an arm as hard and brawny as that of a stevedore. With disapproval she observed O'Iwa. The latter stood unresisting, eyes on the ground. Only the lips twitched from time to time. As the only person in the house, male or female, not to fear the Okamisan, O'Kin could only put down the courage to ignorance. She shrugged her shoulders with contempt. "A man would cause you no pain. The same cannot be said of Kin. You shall have the proof." Perhaps severity would be more merciful, by quickly breaking down this obstinacy. The wife returned with the instrument of torture, a bow of bamboo wound with rattan to strengthen it. O'Kin took it, ostentatiously bent and displayed its stinging flexibility before the eyes of O'Iwa. The latter closed them. She would cut off all temptation to weakness. At a sign O'Kin roughly tore off the _obi_. A twist, and the torn and disordered _kimono_ of O'Iwa fell to her feet with the skirt. She had no shirt. Thus she was left completely naked. In modesty she sank crouching on the ground. The cold wind of the March night made her shiver as O'Kin roped her wrists. Again the woman whispered her counsel in her ear--"When you get enough, say 'Un! Un!'" Detecting no sign of consent she took a ladder, climbed up, and passed the ropes through the rings above. She descended, and the two women began to haul away. Gradually O'Iwa was raised from the sitting posture to her full height of extended arms, until by effort her toes could just reach the ground. In this painful position the slightest twist to relieve the strain on the wrists caused agonizing pains through the whole body. "Still obstinate--strike!" shouted the wife. O'Kin raised the bow and delivered the blow with full force across the buttocks. A red streak appeared. O'Iwa by a natural contortion raised her legs. The blows descended fast, followed at once by the raised welt of flesh, or the blood from the lacerated tissue. Across the shoulder blades, the small of the back, the buttocks, the belly, they descended with the full force of the robust arms and weight of O'Kin. Every time the legs were raised at the shock the suspended body spun round. Every time the toes rested on the ground the bow descended with merciless ferocity. The sight of the torture roused the fierce spirit in the tormentors. O'Kin redoubled the violence of her blows, seeking out the hams and the withers, the shoulders, the tenderest points to cause pain. The wife ran from side to side, gazing into the face and closed eyes of O'Iwa, trying to detect weakening under the torture, or result from some more agonizing blow. O'Iwa's body was striped and splashed with red. O'Kin's hands slipped on the wet surface of the rod. Suddenly she uttered an exclamation. Blood was now gushing from the nose, the eyes, the mouth of O'Iwa. "Okamisan! Okamisan! It won't do to kill her. Deign to give the order to cease. She must be lowered." The wife coolly examined the victim. "She has fainted. Lower her, and throw salt water over her. The sting will bring her to." O'Kin followed the instructions in the most literal sense. She dashed the bucket of water with great impetus right into O'Iwa's face. "Un!" was the latter's exclamation as she came to consciousness. "She consents! She consents!" cried O'Kin with delight. The wife was decidedly sceptical, but her aid plainly would go no further at this time. Said she--"Leave her as she is. There are other matters to attend to than the whims of an idle vicious jade. She would cheat this Matsu out of twenty _ryo[u]_? Well: time will show the victor." She departed--"to drink her wine, pare her nails, and sing obscene songs to the accompaniment of the _samisen_." Tied hand and foot O'Iwa lay semi-conscious in the cold shed of punishment. At midnight the girls returned to this "home." They gathered around the prostate O'Iwa. From O'Kin they had an inkling of the courage displayed. They admired her, but none dared to touch her bonds. At last O'Haru San, unusually successful in her night's raid, ventured to approach the half drunk mistress of the house. "Haru makes report." She spread her returns before the gratified Okamisan. Timidly the girl added--"O'Iwa San repents. Deign to remit her punishment. She looks very ill and weak."--"Shut up!" was the fierce retort. Then as afterthought of sickness and possible loss came to mind. "She can be untied and sent to bed."--"And food?"--"She can earn it." The woman turned on O'Haru, who bowed humbly and slipped away. That night the girls contributed from their store to feed O'Iwa; as they did on the succeeding days and nights. The wife would have stopped the practice, but Toémon interfered. He meant to keep his dilapidated stock in as good repair as possible. He fed them pretty well. "The woman is not to be starved--at least too openly. The last case gave this Toémon trouble enough, and on the very day this epileptic came into the house, to bring confusion with her. Beat her if you will; but not enough to kill her." O'Matsu followed his words to the letter. One beating was followed by another; with interval enough between the torture to insure recuperation and avoid danger to life. These scenes came to be regarded as a recreation of the house. The other inmates were allowed to attend, to witness the example and fascinate their attention. But at last the Okamisan despaired. Amusement was one thing; but her hatred of O'Iwa was tempered by the desire to find some use for her, to get a return for the twenty _ryo[u]_ of which she had been swindled. Finally the advice of the _banto[u]_ was followed. "The men of the house cannot be tempted to approach such an apparition. The other girls have not time to devote to making up O'Iwa as for the stage. They have not twenty _ryo[u]_ at stake, as had Cho[u]bei. Let her wash the dishes." Thus was O'Iwa "degraded" from her high estate as street-walker. Turned into a kitchen drudge she shed tears of joy. She almost forgot the matter of the pledge in this new and pleasant life. The time and the place, perhaps the drug she took, had done their work on the mind of O'Iwa. Iémon, the house of Samoncho[u], the _ihai_ in the Butsudan, the pleasant garden--all were of the tissue of a dream amid a toil which deposited her on the straw wrappings of the charcoal and in a shed, thoroughly worn out at the end of her long day. The O'Iwa of Samoncho[u] at this end of the lapsing year of service was dormant. But accidents will happen. There was excitement in the house. Mobei, the dealer in toilet articles--combs, brushes, jewel strings--was at the grating. The women were clustered before the wares he exposed in his trays. This Mobei, as dealer in toilet articles (_koma-mono_) wandered all the wards of Edo, his little trays fitting neatly into each other, and wrapped in a _furoshiki_ or bundle-handkerchief. His wares formed a marvellous collection of the precious and common place, ranging from true coral and tortoise shell, antique jewelry and curious _netsuké_ of great value, to their counterfeits in painted wood, horn, and coloured glass. "Mobei San, long has been the wait for you. Is there a bent comb in stock?"--"Truly this Mobei is vexing. He humbly makes apology, lady. Here is just the thing.... How much? Only a _bu_.... Too high? Nay! With women in the ordinary walks of life it is the wage of a month. To the honoured Oiran it is but a night's trifling." The other women tittered. O'Haru was a little nettled at the high sounding title of Oiran. She would not show her irritation. Mobei continued his attentions. He laid before her and the others several strings of jewels, their "coral" made of cleverly tinted paste. "Deign to look; at but one _bu_ two _shu[u]_. If real they would cost twenty _ryo[u]_."--"And Mobei has the real?" The dealer laughed. As in pity, and to give them a glimpse of the far off upper world, he raised the cover of a box in the lower tier. They gasped in admiration before the pink of the true coral. Hands were stretched through the grating to touch it. Mobei quickly replaced the cover. "For some great lady," sighed O'Haru--"Just so," replied Mobei, adjusting his boxes. He had sold two wooden painted combs and a string of horn beads in imitation of tortoise shell. He pocketed the hundred "cash," those copper coins with a hole in the centre for stringing. Then briefly--"The necklace is for no other than the Kashiku of the Yamadaya, the loved one of Kibei Dono of Yotsuya. The comb (_kanzashi_) in tortoise shell and gold is for the honoured lady wife of Iémon Dono, the _go kenin_. But Mobei supplies not only the secular world. This--for one who has left the world; for Myo[u]zen Osho[u] of Myo[u]gyo[u]ji, the gift of Ito[u] Dono. For the custom of Mobei the Yotsuya stands first in order." He took a box from his sleeve and showed them the rosary of pure crystal beads. Even in the dull light of a lowering day the stones flashed and sparkled. The women showed little interest. A priest to them was not a man--ordinarily. He shouldered his pack. "Mobei San--a comb with black spots, in imitation of tortoise shell. Please don't fail me on the next visit." Mobei nodded agreement. Then he halted and turned. One of the women had called out in derision--"Here is O'Iwa San. Surely she wants to purchase. Mobei San! Mobei San! A customer with many customers and a full pocketbook." These women looked on O'Iwa's assignment to the kitchen as the fall to the lowest possible state. At sight of the newcomer Mobei gasped. O'Iwa on leaving the door of Toémon's house, _miso_ (soup) strainers for repair in one hand, fifteen _mon_ for bean paste (_to[u]fu_) tightly clasped in the other, came face to face with the toilet dealer, "The lady of Tamiya--here!"--"The lady of Tamiya!" echoed the astonished and curious women. Said O'Iwa quickly--"Mobei San is mistaken. This is Iwa; but lady of Tamiya...." Hastily she pulled her head towel over her face. In doing so the "cash" slipped from her hand. A _mon_ missing meant no _to[u]fu_; result, a visit to the _seméba_. In recovering the lost coin Mobei was left in no doubt. "'Tis indeed the lady of Tamiya. It cannot be denied." O'Iwa no longer attempted the impossible. She said--"It is Iwa of Tamiya. Mobei San, a word with you." The women were whispering to each other. "He called her '_shinzo[u]_.'" Said O'Haru--"There always was something about her to arouse suspicion; so ugly, and with such grand airs. And how she endured the punishment! Truly she must be a _samurai_ woman." The minds of all reverted to their master Toémon, and how he would take this news. O'Iwa had drawn Mobei somewhat apart from the grating. With downcast face she spoke--"Deign, Mobei San, to say nothing in the ward of this meeting with Iwa." To Mobei's earnest gesture of comprehension--"Affairs had gone badly with Tamiya. Iémon San was misled into gambling by Natsumé Kyuzo[u] and Imaizumi Jinzaémon. He was carried away by the passion. It was no longer possible to stay in Samoncho[u]. Worse conduct followed. In the kindness and advice of Ito[u] Dono, of Akiyama and Kondo[u] Sama, this Iwa found support. But she disobeyed. She would not follow the advice given. However, gratitude is felt by Iwa. One cannot leave this place, or long since she would have paid the visit of acknowledgment. A matter of importance arose. Cho[u]bei San came to Iwa's aid, and saved the situation. This place is terrible, but the consequences of not coming would have been more so. To Cho[u]bei gratitude is felt. It was the opportunity offered the wife to show her faith and courage." Now she looked bravely in Mobei's face. It was the toilet dealer's turn to show confusion--"Honoured lady, is nothing known?"--"Known?" answered O'Iwa in some surprise. "What is there to know? When this Iwa left Samoncho[u] to be sure the house was cracking apart everywhere. The light poured in as through a bamboo door.... Ah! Have matters gone badly with the Danna in Iwa's absence?" Mobei shook his head in dissent. "Alas! Ito[u] Sama, Akiyama or Kondo[u] San, has misfortune come to them, without a word of condolence from Iwa? Perhaps Cho[u]bei San, in his precarious life...." The poor isolated world of the thoughts of this homely creature was limited to these friends in need. Mobei had sunk on his knees before her. He raised eyes in which stood tears of pity and indignation. "The Ojo[u]san knows nothing of what has occurred in Yotsuya? This Mobei will not keep silent. With the affairs of Iémon Sama, of Ito[u] Dono and Akiyama San nothing has gone wrong. The absence of the lady O'Iwa is otherwise related. She has abandoned house and husband to run away with a plebeian, the _banto[u]_ at the green-grocer's on Shinjuku road. Such is the story circulated." O'Iwa drew away from him as from a snake--then: "Mobei, you lie! Why tell such a tale to this Iwa? Are not the words of Ito[u] Dono, of Akiyama Sama, of Cho[u]bei San still in Iwa's ears? What else has she had to console her during these bitter months but the thought of their kindness? This dress (a scantily wadded single garment), these bare feet in this snow, this degraded life--are not they evidences of Iwa's struggle for the honour of husband and House? Mobei, slander of honourable men brings one to evil. Mobei lies; lies!" He seized her dress. The man now was weeping. "The lady of Tamiya is a saint. Alas! Nothing does she know of the wicked hearts of men. Too great has been the kindness of the Ojo[u]san to this Mobei for him to attempt deceit. Deign to listen. This day a week; was it not the day to a year of the Ojo[u]san's leaving the house in Yotsuya?" O'Iwa turned to him with a startled face. He continued--"A week ago Mobei visited Yotsuya. He has many customers there, not too curious about prices. Hence he brings the best of his wares. Coming to the house in Samoncho[u] a feast was in progress. There were present Ito[u] Dono, Akiyama Sama, Natsumé and Imaizumi Sama, Kondo[u] Dono; O'Hana San, of course. All were exceedingly merry, Iémon Dono poured out a cup of wine. 'Mobei! Mobei! Come here! Drain this cup in honour of the occasion. We celebrate the anniversary of the expulsion of the _bakémono_. The demon is driven forth from the Paradise of Yotsuya. Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]!' This Mobei was amazed--'The O'Baké.... What O'Baké?'--'Why: O'Iwa San. A year since, with the aid of these good friends, and one not present here, Iémon freed himself from the clutches of the vengeful apparition. Our _Kumi-gashira_ granted divorce in due form. The son of Takahashi Daihachiro[u]--Yanagibara Kazuma--Tamiya Iémon no longer catches at sleep to wake in fear. Chief, deep is the gratitude of Iémon for the favour done by Ito[u] Dono.' The Ojo[u]san a _bakémono_! At these outrageous words Mobei felt faint. Receiving the cup, as in modesty returned to the _ro[u]ka_ to drink, the contents were spilled on the ground. Ah! Honoured lady, it is not only that the Ojo[u]san has been driven out. Her goods have been cleverly stolen by false messages of gambling losses. Stored with Kondo[u] Sama they were brought back on the success of the wicked plot. The whole is a conspiracy of Iémon Dono with Ito[u] Dono, with Akiyama, Cho[u]bei, Kondo[u], and others. They bragged of it, and told the tale in full before this Mobei, laughing the while. Why, lady! On the word of Cho[u]bei San the order of divorce was issued by Ito[u] Dono. Within the month O'Hana San left the shelter of the house of Kondo[u] Sama to enter the Tamiya as bride. Deign to look. Here is a jewelled comb reserved by Iémon Sama as present for O'Hana San his wife. Here is gift of Ito[u] Dono to Myo[u]zen Osho[u] for his efforts 'in the cause.'" O'Iwa stood as one frozen. With Mobei's words the light was flooding into mind and soul. Step by step she now followed clearly the stages of this infamous conspiracy against her peace and honour. She had been fooled, cheated, degraded--and by Ito[u] Kwaiba, the enemy of Matazaémon; by Iémon, son of the hereditary foe Takahashi Daihachiro[u]. Mobei remained huddled at her feet, watching with fright the sudden and awful change in her face. The words came in a whisper. At first she brought out her speech with difficulty, then to rise to torrent force--"Cheated, gulled by the hereditary foe! And this Iwa lies bound and helpless! 'Tis understood! The end is at hand--Ah! The poison! The poison! Now it, too, rises; flowing upward to heart and head of Iwa. Accursed man! Accursed woman; who would play the rival and destroy the wife! The time is short; the crisis is at hand. Cho[u]bei's dark words become light. Hana would poison Iwa through this treacherous leech. Iémon would kill her by the foul life of this brothel--Gods of Nippon! Buddhas of the Universe! All powerful Amida, the Protector! Kwannon, the Lady Merciful! Deign to hearken to the prayer of this Iwa. Emma Dai-o[u], king of Hell, summon not the daughter of Tamiya before the dreaded throne for judgment--through the course of seven existences--until the vengeance of Iwa be sated with the miserable end of these her persecutors. May the sacred characters of the Daimoku, written on the heart of Iwa for her future salvation, be seared out as with hot iron. On Ito[u] Kwaiba, Iémon, Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, Cho[u]bei, all and every one engaged in this vile plot, rests the death curse of Iwa. Against these; against Natsumé, Imaizumi, Yoémon of Tamiya, lies the grudge of Iwa of Tamiya. Gods and Buddhas--grant this prayer!" A violent hand was laid on the bosom of Mobei's robe. He screamed in terror at the fearful face bent over him. A broad round dead white swollen face, too sharp gleaming malignant dots darting flashes as from a sword between the puffed and swollen lids, froze him into a passive object. One of these lids drooped horribly down upon the cheek of the apparition. In the physical effort exerted, the slit of the mouth showed the broad black even teeth, which seemed about to clutch at his throat; as did the vigorous hand, the nails of which sank into his gullet. Framed in the mass of wild disordered hair Mobei was isolated as in a universe of space; left alone with this fearful vision. "Lady! Lady O'Iwa! Lady of Tamiya! This Mobei has done naught. Others have wronged O'Iwa San. Mobei is guiltless.... Ah! Ah!" With fright and pain he rolled over on the ground in a dead faint. Screaming and shouting the women Také and Ko[u]ta rushed around and out to his rescue. O'Iwa San was now under the full control of her disorder. Takézo staggered back, her hands to her face to hide the horrible sight, to wipe from eyes and cheeks the blood streaming from the deep tears made by O'Iwa's nails. Ko[u]ta from behind seized O'Iwa around the waist and shoulders. Sharply up came the elbow shot, catching this interloper under the chin. Neck and jaw fairly cracked under the well-delivered blow. Ko[u]ta went down in a heap as one dead. A _chu[u]gen_ coming along the North Warigesui had reached the crossing. He thought it better to stand aside, rather than attempt to stop this maddened fiend tearing through space. At the canal bank there was a moment's pause. Then came a dull splash; as of some heavy body plunged in the water. With a cry the man hastened forward. Not a sign of anything could be seen. In this rural place no help was to be had, and he was little inclined to plunge at random into the foul stream. In haste he turned back to where a crowd was gathering around the prostrate Mobei, the groaning harlots to whom punishment had been meted out. CHAPTER XV CHO[U]BEI GETS THE NEWS The _chu[u]gen_ stood over the toilet dealer now coming out of his half-trance condition. The eyes of the two men met and showed mutual astonishment. "Naruhodo! Mobei San! In a quarrel over his wares with the vile women of this district?"--"Kakusuké San! Ah! There is much to tell. O'Iwa San...." The _chu[u]gen_ of Ito[u] Kwaiba was amazed attention. "This Mobei to his ill fortune, met with the lady of Tamiya. Her condition, her ignorance, was too pitiful. Learning all the truth from Mobei she inflicted on him this punishment. May it cease there! Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!... Heavy the grudge against your master Ito[u] Dono; against Iémon Sama, his wife O'Hana San, all in the plot against the Lady O'Iwa. 'To seven existences grant this Iwa opportunity to vent her anger. Every one of the perpetrators of this deed shall be seized and put to death.' She invoked all the gods and Buddhas; Nay, the king of Hell--Emma Dai-o[u] himself. Look to yourself, Kakusuké San. Deign to seek employment elsewhere." Kakusuké completed his task of raising the battered and scratched toilet dealer to his feet. "Mobei San, you have acted the fool; without doubt. Relate what has happened." Mobei did so in full detail. Kakusuké was thoughtful. "Much of this Kakusuké hears for the first time. A servant gets but snatches of the inside of such matters. Just now the mission has been from his master, Ito[u] Dono, to the Inagaki _yashiki_ near Ho[u]onji; matter of transfer involved in the late adoption of Kibei Dono into the House of the Danna Sama.... So that scoundrel Cho[u]bei sold the lady of Tamiya to Toémon for a harlot. Alas! She deserved a better fate. One way or another they would kill her; and Cho[u]bei, his money in hand, abetted the crime. Where is this brothel?" Surrounded by his women Toémon was listening to their excited statements. Takézo was crying with rage and pain, as she examined her fissured countenance before a toilet stand (_kyo[u]dai_). Ko[u]ta, brought back to consciousness, lay groaning in a corner. They were applying cold compresses to her broken jaw. Toémon looked up suspiciously as Kakusuké entered, supporting the lamed and maimed Mobei. "Look to this man's wares, scattered in the roadway; and to the man himself." He spoke roughly, and with authority. Toémon did not dare to resent his manner. With well feigned solicitude he addressed Mobei--"Ma! Ma! A terrible punishment. Your face has the blush of the plum blossom marked upon it.... O'Haru, run to the house of Wakiyama Sensei. Ko[u]ta is badly hurt; his skill is needed. Stop at the drug store. Here is the 'cash' to bring salve for this good man's wounds. Alas! That a woman of Toémon's house should so maltreat others. When caught her punishment...."--"Shut up!" said Kakusuké. He had already taken his line of conduct in his master's interest. "How comes it that the Lady O'Iwa is found at the house of Toémon?"--"The Lady O'Iwa!" replied the brothel keeper in well-feigned surprise. Turning to Mobei--"It is true, then, what the women report; that Mobei San called the O'Iwa of this house 'Shinzo[u].' Who is this O'Iwa?" Said Kakusuké coldly--"The Lady O'Iwa is the granddaughter and heir of Tamiya Matazaémon, a higher _do[u]shin_. She is the wife of the _go-kenin_, Tamiya Iémon." Toémon now was truly aghast. "Heir and wife of _go-kenin_! This Toémon had not the slightest inkling of her _status_. Cho[u]bei has juggled this Toémon most outrageously." He turned savagely on O'Matsu. "So much for stupid brutality. One must give you head, or have no peace. Why not treat the woman kindly, learn her story? Lies or truth that of all the women in the house is known. But O'Iwa San was a mark for malice. Cho[u]bei has lied. Between you the house is ruined. Since when were _samurai_ women sold to life service? Fool! It means imprisonment, exile, to those implicated. This Toémon ends his days among the savage fishermen of Sado." He would have struck her. Kakusuké and the _banto[u]_ interposed. The woman did not budge. Defiant, she stood with folded arms--"It was Toémon's arrangement to buy her in blind belief of Cho[u]bei. Why blame this Matsu? Since when were women exempt from service or punishment? The rule of the house is one or the other. How long has it been since O'Seki left the house--in a box; and Toémon had to make answer at the office." Then catching herself up in the presence of strangers--"Danna Sama, this is no time for a quarrel. Those of the house will say nothing; in their own interest. As for this worthy gentleman, the Lady O'Iwa was wife and heir neither of himself nor his master. Toémon San is grossly neglectful of courtesy due to guests. Leave Mobei San to this Matsu." She whispered in his ear. Toémon had now recovered his balance. Kakusuké was a _chu[u]gen_. He had an object in coming to Toémon's house, instead of making report at once to his master, to the outraged Iémon Dono. Of course Toémon misinterepreted this motive; and Kakusuké was quite ready to profit by his mistake. To the now courteous brothel keeper he was equally cordial. O'Matsu and her women carried off Mobei, to salve his wounds, regale him with fish and wine and good treatment, carefully to make inventory of his goods, and repack them with substantial diminution of purchases. What more could Mobei ask. His valued rosary, the necklace, the _kanzashi_, all the treasures were uninjured. His exchequer was palpably swollen, and more pleasingly than his phiz. His beating had turned out a good day's venture; and without misgiving he can be left in the careful hands of O'Matsu and her women. Meanwhile Kakusuké and Toémon sat over their wine. From the _chu[u]gen_ and toilet dealer the latter secured a complete view of his situation. It was bad, but not irreparable. As Kakusuké with due tardiness prepared to depart, the hospitable innkeeper had ample time to prostrate himself in salutation, meanwhile pushing over a golden _ryo[u]_ wrapped up in decently thin paper which permitted the filtering through of its yellow gleam. "Great has been the trouble and delay of Kakusuké San. Mark not this day in memory, good Sir." Kakusuké was equally polite in salutation--"Fear enters: thanks for the kind entertainment of Toémon San. This alone is to be kept in mind, mark of a day otherwise of but little import." These last words were a healing balm; and Toémon rejoiced. With the departure of Kakusuké, the chief of the "night-hawks" turned at once to his aides. "Také! Haru!... Ah! Ko[u]ta is completely done up. You, Také, bear the marks of the day's encounter. Go to Asakusa Hanagawado[u]. Cho[u]bei is to be brought here at once. The house must clear its skirts of this affair. If he refuses to come, put a rope about his neck and drag him here." The women bowed. At once they prepared for the street, a mission welcome enough under other conditions. O'Také was smarting from her wounds and not very willing to be an object lesson. O'Haru had in mind the fearful curse of O'Iwa, plainly heard by the women. Very willingly she would have had nothing to do with the affair. Cho[u]bei was engaged at _go_ with the metal dealer of his neighbourhood. The fish and wine were in course of preparation in the kitchen close by and under the skilled hands of O'Taki. The perfume, vinous and of viands, came to the noses of the competitors, to the disturbance of their game. Cho[u]bei had just made a profitable stroke. He had five _ryo[u]_ in hand, commission from the worthy _doguya_ for the successful sale of a daughter to the Yamadaya of Nakanocho[u]. This enterprising plebeian, having a son to succeed him in the business, had secured the necessary furnishing and adoption of a second son into the rival house of the ward, by means of the fifty _ryo[u]_ secured for the girl through the experience and clever tactics of Cho[u]bei. Many the compliments and congratulations exchanged by these excellent men and worthy representatives of their class as they tussled over their game of _go_. Profuse were the thanks of the metal dealer for past services and future feasting. It was with some displeasure therefore that O'Taki had her offices interrupted to respond to a loud and harsh--"Request to make!" sounded at the house entrance. Said she crossly--"Who is it?... Ah! O'Také and O'Haru San of Toémon Sama." Then in wonder--"Oya! Oya! O'Také San.... Your honoured face.... Has O'Také San gone to bed in the dark with the cat?" Answered O'Také, in no amiable mood--"It could well have been. Your man Cho[u]bei deals in such articles. There are the marks of O'Iwa's nails. As for Cho[u]bei, is the precious rascal at home?" O'Taki heard her with rising rage--"O'Iwa? What has Cho[u]bei San to do with any O'Iwa and the house of Toémon San? Why call the man of Taki a scoundrel?"--"Because he is such. Nay, Okamisan, don't get angry."--O'Haru was speaking--"has your husband a brother in Abegawacho[u], a brother in need of twenty _ryo[u]_ and with a daughter who would do nothing but run after the men?" O'Taki was puzzled. "Cho[u]bei San has no brother, in Abegawacho[u] or any other _cho[u]_. Hence such brother has no daughter O'Iwa; nor are there children of his own, except the one born to him by this Taki, and a girl already sold...." A light was breaking in on O'Taki. Months before she had come home to find that the Ojo[u]san had taken her departure. Explained Cho[u]bei--"At Yotsuya everything has been adjusted. Iémon Dono is established again with his wife. The Okusama will not come back to us. Deign to rejoice at the auspicious settlement of her affairs." Which O'Taki did; all the more as Cho[u]bei often was in funds in the successive days through Tamiya. Now she looked from one woman to the other, her fists clenched and working. Said the harsh voice of O'Také--"Cho[u]bei lied then; just as the Danna Sama thought. Nearly a year ago he brought to the house the daughter of his brother Kanémon. He sold her into life service as a night-hawk. For this she turned out to be worthless. O'Taki San knows our Okamisan. No matter how severely beaten, even until the blood came, O'Iwa would not consent to serve. Other means were tried, but the men of the house would have nothing to do with her. She was too ugly. Finally she was degraded into being the kitchen wench, to fetch and carry, and do the hardest and most nauseating tasks. At this downfall in her prospects like a very fool she rejoiced. To-day she met the toilet dealer Mobei. He recognized her as the Lady O'Iwa of Tamiya in the Yotsuya. Drawn apart they spoke together. Suddenly she was transformed into a demon. Leaping on Mobei she tore and clutched at him. Ko[u]ta and this Také ran to aid him. Ko[u]ta lies helpless and with a broken jaw. Truly it might have been the kick of a horse she received. This Také is--as can be seen. The Lady O'Iwa disappeared toward Warigesui. A _chu[u]gen_ saw her leap in. Probably she has killed herself.... And now, O'Taki San, is not your man Cho[u]bei a scoundrel?" Said O'Taki--"Rightly spoken; more than right. Wait here." Abruptly she entered the inner room. To Cho[u]bei--"You ... my fine fellow ... is this a time for _go_? Up and off with you; to accompany O'Také and O'Haru from Toémon's in Honjo[u]. A pretty business is in preparation there." Said the embarrassed and enraged Cho[u]bei--"Wh-what does this rude entrance of Taki mean? Is not the master of the metal shop present? Is such language, such abruptness, to be used in his presence?"--"The Danna of the _doguya_ is certainly present," coolly replied the woman. "It would be better if he was at home.... Honoured Sir, pray betake yourself there. This Cho[u]bei has business with Toémon Sama of Honjo[u], the brothel keeper and chief of the night-hawks, to whom he has sold for life service as a street harlot the Lady O'Iwa, wife of the _go-kenin_ Iémon Dono and heir of Tamiya Matazaémon the _do[u]shin_. A man can be too clever--as this Cho[u]bei, who cheats his wife and all others. Do you be clever enough to take the hint and depart.... Off with you!" The _doguya_ had sat in silence. His eyes were popping out of his head in frightened amaze. Cho[u]bei bounded up in a rage--"You huzzy--shut up! Would you publish the affairs of this Cho[u]bei to the world? Many a bridge is to be passed in the course through this world; and none too sure the footing. Money must be had to live and enjoy life. The result, not the means, is the important factor in its acquisition. Such rudeness to a guest! Vile jade, Cho[u]bei will...." O'Také and O'Haru had to interfere--"Fight it out later, Cho[u]bei San. This quarrel is no concern of ours. The sooner the master is seen, the better for Cho[u]bei San. His rage is great, and mounting. You have the contract? With that face the master; if you can."--"Just so! Just so! As for this wench--she shall have something to remember this Cho[u]bei by...." The worthy and trembling metal dealer took this remark as threat of renewed violence. "For the kind reception and entertainment: thanks. Jubei calls later." Nimbly he was on his feet. Diving under the _haori_ into which Cho[u]bei was struggling he bounced out the front, leaving Cho[u]bei on the ground and floundering in the folds of his garments, from which issued most violent language. For the first time that day O'Také and O'Haru had something to amuse them. O'Taki refusing, they assisted Cho[u]bei to his feet and adjusted his robe. Then one on each side of him they set out for Honjo[u] Yoshidacho[u]. As parting salute to O'Taki, Cho[u]bei finished his sentence.... "Something to remember on Cho[u]bei's return." Her laugh in reply was so savage that the women turned to look at her. In fright they hastened off with their prize. At Honjo[u] the reception of Cho[u]bei called forth the whole house. The pimp entered the presence of Toémon with confident and jaunty air. "He has the contract?" said Toémon to the woman. O'Haru indicated a sleeve. The _banto[u]_ and one of the _wakashu[u]_ (young men employes) grasped the arms of Cho[u]bei. The incriminating document was deftly removed by O'Haru and passed over to Toémon. "Now the fellow can neither produce it, nor play his tricks with it." He looked it over carefully; then placed it with his own copy. Cho[u]bei was too outraged and frightened to do more than squat and gasp as he looked around the circle of hostile faces. Without cushion he sat on the bare _tatami_, much as does a criminal at the white sand. Said Toémon severely--"For once Cho[u]bei has drunk hot water with this Toémon. Does he think to act thus with impunity. The younger sister of his brother Kanémon, 'a noted wench for the streets,' was brought here for life service; sold to Toémon for twenty _ryo[u]_. Toémon does not intend that the price shall be too high for him. Cho[u]bei cannot lie out of his own contract. Toémon has it in his hands. Cho[u]bei has the twenty _ryo[u]_. Toémon loses his money. Well and good: Toémon clears himself from the affair. The responsibility lies wholly with Cho[u]bei. Let him look to it." Cho[u]bei seized the moment when lack of breath in his anger halted the speech of Toémon. He would have lied, but Toémon again broke in. "Cho[u]bei has no brother. Cho[u]bei has no woman to dispose of on his own signature. The one he did have, the one he possesses, Toémon knows where to find. Toémon had a woman O'Iwa in his house. You sold the wife of a _go-kenin_, Iémon Dono of Yotsuya; a woman who was the heir of Tamiya Matazaémon the _do[u]shin_. The Lady O'Iwa is traced to the hands of Cho[u]bei. Settle the matter with those in office--_machibugyo[u]_, _do[u]shin_, _yakunin_--when the affair comes to light...."--"Easily," burst in Cho[u]bei, once more himself. "Honoured chief, matters do not call for such earnestness. All this is mere froth and fury. It is true that Cho[u]bei has deceived the chief; but it was at the orders of those much higher. The lady of Tamiya was an obstacle. The sale was ordered by Iémon Dono himself; backed by Ito[u] Kwaiba the head of the Yotsuya ward."--"Cho[u]bei, you lie," said Toémon. The words and advice of Kakusuké still rang in his ears. "Iémon Dono? Ito[u] Dono? Who else will Cho[u]bei bring in as his bails? Such a man is not to be trusted. With this Toémon there is no more dealing. The guild is to be warned by a circular letter." At this fearful threat all Cho[u]bei's jauntiness left him. His livelihood, his existence, were at stake. He prostrated himself before Toémon, dragging his body over the _tatami_ to the _zen_ (low table) at which was seated this autocrat of the night-hawks, this receiver of the refuse and worn-out goods of his greater brothers in the trade. Toémon harshly repulsed him with his foot. Cho[u]bei in despair turned to O'Matsu--"Honoured lady the chief is unreasonably angry. There shall be no loss of money, no harm suffered by the affair. Deign to say a word for Cho[u]bei."--"Since when has Matsu had aught to do with the affairs of the house? The women are her concern. She goes not outside her province." The pimp sought the feet of O'Také--"Condescend to plead for Cho[u]bei. His fault is venial. When no injury results, pardon follows. This is to cut off the breath of Cho[u]bei, of wife and child. Deign to intercede." The street harlot laughed. Her cracked voice was rough--"The commission of Cho[u]bei San has no attractions. This Také has had enough to do with the matter. Truly Cho[u]bei is a wicked fellow. Také would fare badly in such intercourse. Besides his company is too high flown. Officials! Samurai! Cho[u]bei San seeks and will find promotion in the world. Lodgings are preparing for Cho[u]bei Sama in public office--on the Ryo[u]gokubashi; of such he is assured." She drew away from him, harshly cackling. Thus he crawled from one to the other. It was "Cho[u]bei Sama," "Cho[u]bei Dono," in derision they would call him prince--"Cho[u]bei Ko[u]." All stuck out their tongues at him. The young fellows of the house, several of them, stood round the entrance, ostensibly occupied, but with one eye on the scene. As Cho[u]bei sought the _banto[u]'s_ aid, the man raised a long lean leg and gave him a violent kick in the breast. Strong hands seized him as he rolled over and over to the edge of the platform, to land in the arms of the enthusiastic _wakashu[u]_. The next moment, and Cho[u]bei was picking himself up out of the mud and snow of the street. The lattice of the house entrance closed noisily. In his confusion of mind by force of habit Cho[u]bei turned round and bowed with ceremony toward the place of his unceremonious exit--"The time is inopportune. Cho[u]bei intrudes. He will call again." The opening of the wicket gate, the peering, scowling face of the _banto[u]_ recalled the past scene to mind. With all the haste his tottering gait allowed Cho[u]bei sprang off northward to the Adzumabashi and home. As he sped, swaying along, his active mind was making calculations. "Ryo[u]gokubashi, the last home of the outcast beggar--other than the river which flows beneath it!" He shuddered at the prophecy. "Bah! One rascal loses; another gains. Toémon loses twenty _ryo[u]_. From Iémon San ten _ryo[u]_ was the commission. Ito[u] Dono gave five _ryo[u]_ and asked no questions. The total to Cho[u]bei sums up thirty-five _ryo[u]_. For a year the affair of O'Iwa has fattened Cho[u]bei; with something still left." His foot struck a stone in the roadway. He looked up and around to find himself before the Genkwo[u]ji. About to enter on the maze of temple grounds and _yashiki_ separating him from the bridge his gaze fell on the stagnant squalid waters of the canal. It was in the dirty foulness of this North Warigesui that O'Iwa had disappeared. Cho[u]bei pulled up short. A dead cur, copper hued, with swollen germinating sides and grinning teeth, bobbed at him from the green slime. Cho[u]bei slewed round--"A vile ending; but after all an ending. Iémon profits; Cho[u]bei gets the scoldings. Ah! If it was not that Ito[u] Kwaiba is engaged in this affair; Tamiya should pay dearly. There is a double ration to share with Cho[u]bei--and not to be touched! Ito[u] Dono is no man to trifle with. There was that affair with Isuké; and now, as he says, Iémon is a very son to him." A memory seemed to touch Cho[u]bei. His pace became a crawl. "Why hasten? Cho[u]bei rushes to the fiend--that demon Taki. Cho[u]bei would rather face O'Iwa than Taki in a rage." He laughed--"The attenuated hands of a ghost and the thick fist of Taki, the choice is not uncertain. From the lady mild and merciful there is nothing to fear. Evidently she has settled matters once and for all in the Warigesui. But at the tenement--there it is another affair. This Cho[u]bei will fortify himself against the shock. A drink; then another, and still more. The scoldings will fall on a blunted mind wandering in some dreamland. Time will soothe her rage. To-morrow Cho[u]bei wakes, to find the storm has passed and Taki his obedient serving wench." Near the Adzumabashi, following his prescription against domestic enlivenment, he entered a grog shop; to turn his good coin into wine. The quarter at Hanagawado[u] in Asakusa was in an uproar. What had occurred was this--There was an old woman--"Baba" in the native parlance for Dame Gossip--a seller of the dried seaweed called _nori_ (sloke or laver), still called Asakusa _nori_, though even at that time gathered at Shinagawa, Omori, and more distant places. This old trot had returned, to make her last sales to the excellent metal dealer who lived opposite her own home in the _nagaya_, in which she lived next door to the Cho[u]bei, husband and wife. The tongue of the _doguya_ was still in full swing of the recital, not only of his own experiences, but of the revelations of O'Taki. He was only too willing for this twenty-first time to repeat the tale to the _nori_ seller, his good neighbour. The good wife and wives listened again with open mouths. The Baba was the most interested of them all. This choice morsel of gossip was to be gathered at the primal source, from the lips of O'Taki herself. She was all sympathy in her curiosity--ranging in the two cases of Cho[u]bei and wife on the one part, and the metal dealer and his insulted household on the other part. Away she stepped quickly from the assembly of ward gossips. At the door of Cho[u]bei's quarters she stopped--"Okamisan! Okamisan!... Strange: is she not at home? Is she so angered that no answer is given? However, this Baba fears no one.... Nesan! Nesan!" She passed the room entrance and went into the area. Glancing into the kitchen--"Oya! Oya! The meal is burnt to a crisp. It has become a soppy, disgusting mass. Nesan! Nesan! The rain falls, the roof window (_hikimado_) is open." She put down her empty tubs in order to play the good neighbour. The first thing was to close the window against the descending rain. Quickly and deftly she proceeded to wipe the moisture off the shining vessels, to put everything in order in O'Taki's usually immaculate kitchen. Women of this class are finicky housekeepers in their own homes. As the old wife became less engaged she began to hear strange sounds above. Some one was in conversation--and yet it was a one-sided queer kind of talk. The voice was threatening and wheedling. Then she heard a child cry. Surely O'Taki was in the upper room; and thus neglectful of her lord and household. The old Baba went to the foot of the ladder and listened. "Nesan! Nesan!" No answer came, beyond the curious droning monotone above, varied by an occasional wailing cry of the child. It seemed to be in pain. Resolute, the sturdy old Baba began to climb the steps. At the top she halted, to get breath and look into the room. The sight she witnessed froze the old woman in horror to where she stood. A woman was in the room. She knelt over the body of the child, which now and again writhed in the hard and cruel grasp. The queer monotonous voice went on--"Ah! To think you might grow up like your father. The wicked, unprincipled man! To sell the Ojo[u]san for a street whore, for her to spend her life in such vile servitude; she by whose kindness this household has lived. Many the visits in the past two years paid these humble rooms by the lady of Tamiya. To all her neighbours O'Taki has pointed out and bragged of the favour of the Ojo[u]san. The very clothing now on your wretched puny body came from her hands. While Cho[u]bei spent his gains in drink and paid women, Taki was nourished by the rice from Tamiya. When Taki lay in of this tiny body it was the Ojo[u]san who furnished aid, and saw that child and mother could live. Alas! That you should grow up to be like this villainous man is not to be endured.... Ah! An idea! To crunch your throat, to secure revenge and peace, security against the future." She bent down low over the child. Suddenly it gave a fearful scream, as does a child fallen into the fire. The Baba, helpless, could only feebly murmur--"Nesan! Nesan! O'Taki San! What are you about? Control yourself." She gave a frightened yowl as the creature began to spread far apart the child's limbs, and with quick rips of the sharp kitchen knife beside her dissevered and tore the little limbs from the quivering body. At the cry the woman turned half around and looked toward her. Jaws dripping red with blood, a broad white flat face with bulging brow, two tiny piercing dots flashing from amid the thick swollen eyelids, it was the face of O'Iwa glowering at her. "Kiya!" The scream resounded far and wide. Incontinently the old woman tumbled backward down the steep steps, to land below on head and buttocks. Some neighbours, people passing, came rushing in. A crowd began to gather. "Baba! Baba San! What is wrong?" She could not speak; only point upward and shudder as does one with heavy chills. As they moved toward the stair a roar went up from the crowd in the street. O'Taki had appeared at the window, her face smeared with blood and almost unrecognizable. She waved a limb of the dismembered infant. The crowd were frozen with horror. As some shouted to those within to hasten the woman brandished the bloody knife. Thrusting it deep into her throat she ripped and tore at the handle, spattering the incautious below with the blood spurting from the wound. Then she fell backward into the room. When the foremost to interfere rushed in they drew back in fear at what they saw. The child's head was half knawed from the body; its limbs lay scattered to this place and that. The body of O'Taki lay where she had fallen. It was as if the head had been gnawed from the trunk, but the head itself was missing. Search as they would, it was not to be found. Meanwhile the news of these happenings spread rapidly. In the next block it was shouted that the wife of the pimp Cho[u]bei had gone mad and killed and eaten five children. A block further the number had risen to twenty-five. At the guardhouse of the Adzumabashi she had killed and gnawed a hundred adults. These rumours were mingled with the strange tale of the old woman as to O'Iwa San. In time there were many who had witnessed the suicide of O'Taki, who were ready to swear they had seen the fearful lady of Tamiya. Cho[u]bei first learned of the affair by being dragged from the grog shop to the guardhouse of the Adzumabashi. Here he was put under arrest. Distressed and discomforted he stood before the ruin in his home, under the eyes of his neighbours. These stood loyally by him. As happens in ward affairs in Nippon the aspect of the affair not immediately on the surface was slow to reach official ears. Thus it was as to the Tamiya phase involved. Cho[u]bei had suffered much, and was in to suffer more. His fellow wardsmen were silent as to all but the actual facts needed for interpretation. The marvellous only filters out slowly. But they had their own way of dealing with him. The _kenshi_ (coroner) made his report. Examinations, fines, bribes, the funeral costs, reduced Cho[u]bei to his worst garment. With this after some weeks he was permitted to go free. The house owner had turned him out. The wardsmen had expelled him. Enough of Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei--for the present. CHAPTER XVI NEWS REACHES KWAIBA Kwaiba was hard at it, practising his favourite arts. His _saké_ cup stood before him, and from time to time he raised the bottle from the hot water, testing its temperature with skilled hand. He accompanied the action with a continual drone of a _gidayu_. Kwaiba by no means confined the art of _gidayu_ recitation to the heroic tales usually therewith associated. His present effort was one of the suggestive and obscene _ukarebushi_, quite as frequent and as well received in the _gidayu_ theme containing them. Kibei listened and applauded, with cynical amusement at the depravity of the impotent old man. Kwaiba had found an excellent bottle companion, and renewed his own former days in the "Quarter," with the fresher experiences retailed by Kibei. Said Kwaiba--"All has gone well. For half the year Kibei has been the son of Kwaiba. He has brought luck into the house." Kibei bowed respectfully. Continued the old man--"Iémon with his whore is fast destroying Tamiya by riot and drinking. Cho[u]zaémon is a fish in the net. The debt of ten _ryo[u]_ has doubled into twenty _ryo[u]_, which at any cost he must repay. Kwaiba will make him cut belly if he don't. And Tamiya! Old Tamiya; Matazaémon! O'Iwa is paying his debt to Kwaiba by becoming an outcast, perhaps a beggar somewhere on the highway. If she shows her face in the ward, seeking 'cash' to keep life in a wretched carcass, this Kwaiba will send her to the jail, to rot as vagrant. But what did become of her? Iémon has never spoken." Kibei shrugged his shoulders. "A close mouthed fellow; too wise to talk of himself. He would but say that Cho[u]bei took the affair in hand." Kwaiba threw up his hands in horror and merriment. Said he--"'Tis rumoured the fellow is a pimp. But surely he could not dispose of O'Iwa in his line. The very demons of the Hell of lust would refuse all intercourse with her." Just then Kakusuké presented himself. "Report to make to the Go Inkyo[u] Sama. Inagaki Dono sends his compliments to Ito[u] Sama. The papers of transfer are these; by the hand of Kakusuké." As he took the documents, said Kwaiba in answer to Kibei's inquiring look--"Your honoured parent has favoured this Kwaiba. The transfer is of farms in Kazusa for others in Shimosa. Thus all can be brought under one hand. A single _nanushi_ (bailiff) can manage the whole property in the two villages."--"But the office...," objected Kibei. He had the _samurai_ instinct against the slightest taint of failure in obligation. "Let Kibei San deign to follow in the footsteps of Kwaiba. The successor to the _nanushi_ recently deceased is a child. Kwaiba is in no haste to provide a substitute pending majority. The right will lapse, and at majority the boy can be found occupation elsewhere, to no small gain in the revenue. Out of sight, out of mind. Kwaiba's present manager is unsurpassed; so is the income he manages to gather." He looked around in some surprise, seeing that Kakusuké still maintained his position, although dismissed. Then noting him closely--"What has happened, Kakusuké? Your colour is bad. Too cordial entertainment by the _chu[u]gen_ of Inagaki Dono? Or has Kakusuké seen a ghost?" "Kakusuké has seen O'Iwa San; of Tamiya. Rather would he have seen a ghost; if indeed it was not a demon he saw." Kwaiba started--"O'Iwa! Where?"--"It was at the brothel of Toémon, chief of the night-hawks, at Yoshidacho[u] in Honjo[u]. Mobei the toilet dealer had suffered direfully at her hands. Meeting her unexpectedly, the fool let out all he knew of the happenings in the ward. In a rage she flew on him. 'To seven lives a curse on Iémon Dono, on Akiyama Sama, on Kondo[u] Sama.'"--He hesitated; then added--"on the Go Inkyo[u] Sama. Then in a straight line she flew off toward the canal. Did she drown herself? This Kakusuké could not ascertain. Going to the aid of Mobei, mauled and prostrate on the ground, the whole story was learned. Cho[u]bei had sold her for life to Toémon, to serve as a night-hawk." Ito[u] Kwaiba sat straight up. His idle braggart words of a few moments before came home to him. In Kibei he found no encouragement. After all Kibei was a _samurai_; harsh, but with the courage of his caste and profession. He spoke openly--"It was an outrageous deed. To sell a _samurai_ woman to such a life! It stinks. This comes of bringing in a low dog (_yaro[u]_) such as this Cho[u]bei. Did Iémon know of his intention?" He looked Kwaiba in the eye, but the latter met him squarely--"What Iémon knew or did not know, this Kwaiba knows not. But of this event he must know--and at once. Kakusuké, go in all haste to the house of Tamiya Sama. Kwaiba would consult with him." Kibei fidgetted and fumed. He walked up and down the room. Then abruptly--"Condescend to pardon the presence of Kibei. The honoured father having matters to discuss with the diviner--he finds no amusement in the counsellor." As he was withdrawing Iémon entered. Their greeting was cold to the extreme. Iémon knew that Kibei hated and despised him; as much as he, Iémon, hated and feared Kibei. Kwaiba called sharply to his genial son--"Pray be within call, if needed." He was glad to see the surly fellow's exit. In some things Kwaiba felt fear. The stiff courage of Kibei made him ashamed openly to air his weakness. He broke the news at once to Iémon. "Kakusuké has seen O'Iwa." Iémon looked at him curiously. Was Kwaiba frightened? Said the one-time priest--"What of that? She lives in Edo. A meeting with her is quite likely; at least for a man of the grade of Kakusuké." He smiled grimly--"But...," said Kwaiba. He plunged into the story of the _chu[u]gen_ in its full details. Iémon listened carefully. "Ah! She is likely to come here."--"Come here!" bellowed Kwaiba. "Just so," answered Iémon. "If she seeks vengeance on this Iémon, on Kwaiba, or the others, where else would she come than Yotsuya. We cannot run away." Kwaiba gasped at his coolness--"And Iémon Dono, does he open Tamiya to the presence of its ex-lady and mistress?"--"A beggar, an outcast, importuning Tamiya; the severed body will lie in the ditch, for the gatherers of offal to cast as food to the dogs on the moor. Fear enters, but--honoured chief, condescend to follow the example of Iémon." The round eyes in the round face of Kwaiba stood out. He leaned over and touched Iémon's sleeve. In astonishment Iémon noted the fright depicted in his face. The blustering old man at bottom was an arrant coward. Two knaves should understand each other--as did he and Cho[u]bei. He felt that he had been gulled during the whole of his intercourse with this old fool. He should have bluffed; and not been bluffed. Said Kwaiba in lowered voice--"Kakusuké could see nothing of her. She disappeared into the waters of Warigesui. Suppose O'Iwa appears as a ghost, to take vengeance on Kwaiba...." He straightened up in astonishment and some anger at the derisive smile playing over the face of Iémon. Indeed Iémon was more than amused. Not at the circumstances, but at finding at last this weak spot in the man who had dominated him. Conditions, however, controlled him. It was fact that the physical O'Iwa might appear--to the distress and discomfiture of all concerned. They must stand together. He spoke with severity--"Rich and afraid of ghosts! Has not Ito[u] Dono two spearmen when he goes abroad? When he has an interview with his lord does he tremble with fear? When the enemy in life, with all physical powers, is not feared; why fear a disembodied spirit deprived of all means of venting its wrath and spite? It is but the imagination which works havoc. None are more helpless than the dead. With them time and occasion has reached an end. If O'Iwa returns to Yotsuya, it will be in her own person. With O'Iwa, the beggar and night-hawk, our _Kumi-gashira_ knows how to deal."--"Then Iémon knew the lot dealt out to O'Iwa."--"At first hand; from Cho[u]bei himself. The lean knave has prospered by the affair. Iémon had no such desire to see him, as to secure his costly presence at the dinner so unfortunately witnessed by Mobei.... But deign to call for wine; drive out these vapours with wine. Honoured chief, condescend to play the host to Iémon." Iémon's manner was not wholly natural, as Kwaiba could have detected if more himself. He felt immensely relieved. A priest--surely he was one to know all about the nature of ghosts; was one to speak with authority. Iémon was hardly to be regarded as in ecclesiastical good odour. But Kwaiba was easily satisfied. He, too, roared--"Wine! Wine! Bring wine!" As by magic Kibei appeared at the welcome sound. He disliked Iémon, but he liked wine. The servants bustled around. The wine was heated--again and again. A feast of fish--with more wine--followed. It was late when Iémon left the house, the only sober member of the party. Of his hosts, one was maudlin, the other asleep. The ample resources of Tamiya, if not of benefit to his person, in these past two years had given him the chance to harden his head; and he had grasped it. Iémon by no means had all the confidence he displayed before Kwaiba. He was a priest, but environment influences everybody. There was a possibility--discountenanced by experience, but existing. As he walked slowly along Teramachi his thoughts strayed back into the past. "It was an ill bond between this Iémon and O'Iwa San. Without question she has drowned herself in the Warigesui. The body must be found and buried. Memorial services are to be recited, for one dying without relatives or friends (_segaki_)." The virtuous resolution was the outcome of his meditation and glances into the many graveyards passed in his progress through the temple-lined street. It was a beautiful street, with its overhanging trees, its open spaces populated by the many dead, its temples gorgeous in red and gilding amid the dark green of pine and cedar. Iémon on this night had to hasten his steps. Rain threatened. Gusts of wind came sharply from this side and that, driving the first drops of the coming storm. He reached home just as it broke with all its fury. To O'Hana he would say nothing of Kwaiba's mission. On her remarking on the lateness of the hour, he made answer that the old man was out of sorts. Kibei was too robust a bottle companion for a man reaching toward his seventieth year. No matter how vigorous, Kwaiba's wine was showing on him. The two prepared for bed. O'Hana listened as the rain dashed in streams against the _amado_, as if trying to break its way in. She gave a little chuckle--"Who would have thought it!"--"What?" asked Iémon, perhaps a little tartly. He was nervous. O'Hana laughed--"That Iémon and this Hana should be where they now are. Their parting was on a night like this. Ah! At seeing a man weep Hana could have retired into a cave--forever. Only the fortunate accident of a drunken _yakunin_ (constable) as guest enabled her to give warning.... And now! Once more united Iémon and this Hana live in luxury. Every wish is gratified. Thanks for the past which contained this meeting in its womb; thanks for the present in which happiness is secured: 'Losing one's way, again roads meet! The hill of flowers.'"[27] A terrific gust struck the rain-doors. They bent and cracked before the force of the gale. The vivid white of lightning showed that one door had been forced from its groove. Iémon rose and replaced it. As he turned away suddenly the room was plunged in darkness. Said the voice of O'Hana--"The light of the _andon_ has gone out. Oya! Oya! The lights in the Butsudan (altar) are lit. And yet this Hana extinguished them." Grumbled Iémon--"The wind has blown out the light in the _andon_. Doubtless a spark was left in the wick of the altar light. Fire is to be dreaded; great care should be taken in extinguishing the light." As he relit the light in the night lamp, O'Hana went up to the Butsudan to extinguish the lights there. She put her hand out to take one. A sharp scream, and she fell back in confusion and fright. "An _aodaisho[u]_ in the Butsudan! Help! Aid this Hana!" As she fled the snake with a thud fell on the _tatami_. Unrolling its six feet of length, it started in pursuit. Iémon stepped behind it and caught it by the tail. A sharp rap behind the head stunned it. It hung limp in his hand. "Hana, please open the _amado_."--"No, no: this Hana cannot; move she will not."--"Coward!" said Iémon. "Time comes when Hana, for generations in the future existence, will wander hill and dale in such form."--"Ara!" The woman was properly shocked at this speech, wicked and brutal as an imprecation. "Has the life of Hana been so foul as to deserve such punishment in a future life? Surely 'tis not the priest of Reigan who speaks; nor Iémon." She could only see his lips move as he stood at the _amado_. "Evil was the connection between O'Iwa and this Iémon. Wander not as one unburied, but becoming a Buddha at once enter Nirvana. Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Wonderful the Law, wondrous the Scripture of the Lotus!" With the invocation he cast the stunned reptile far out into the garden. Returning, he said--"The _aodaisho[u]_ is the most harmless of snakes. The farmers keep it to destroy the rats which infest house and store rooms. How can Hana be afraid of snakes, living in this _yashiki_ overgrown by weeds and grass, from roof to garden?" O'Hana did not reply in direct terms--"It is evil fortune to take a snake in the hand."--"Never mind such talk. It is the priest who speaks. This Iémon knows all about snakes. Go to sleep." She obeyed, knowing nothing about O'Iwa and the events of the day; yet her slumber was broken and restless. By morning she was in a high fever.[28] CHAPTER XVII NEWS FROM KWAIBA Kwaiba was reported as ill; very ill. His friends and dependents who had to pay visits of condolence, spoke of this illness with awe and terror. To understand what follows something must be said of the past of this man. The actor, drawing on the presumed knowledge of his audience as to the story in the gross, can pass this over with a speech or two; a horror-struck gesture and allusion. Not so the _ko[u]dan_ writer, who perforce must lay before his reader all the _minutiæ_ of the case. Ito[u] Kwaiba did not brag when he spoke of his beauty as a boy, his handsome figure as a young man. These had brought him wealth and position; gained, it was whispered, in vilest service to his lord. In these days he had in his employ a _chu[u]gen_ named Isuké, or as some say Kohei. Engaged before the mirror Kwaiba was applying the paint and powder which of late had become necessary adjuncts to fit him to appear before his lord. A gesture of pain and discomfiture, and then Kwaiba turned irritably toward his satellite. "Isuké, you are a clever fellow. Kwaiba has needed no aids to his looks--up to recent days. Now paint and powder, all the armoury of a woman, or paraphernalia of an actor, hardly avail to conceal the blotches which disfigure Kwaiba's face and body. The voice broken and husky, the lightning pains in limbs and joints, these violet patches--in such state it soon will be impossible to act as attendant on his lordship's household service, as _kami-yakunin_. What disorder eats into the life and happiness of Kwaiba?" For a time Isuké made no answer, beyond a bow at his master's acknowledgment of his cleverness, and in which he heartily concurred. He seemed engaged in a close contemplation of the end of his nose. "Hei! Hei!" It was all that Kwaiba could get out of him for the moment. Then noting the growing anger Isuké began with--"Condescend beforehand to pardon this Isuké. Though the anger of the Wakadono (young lord) is hard to bear, yet a faithful servitor should speak. Deign to step this way." He conducted Kwaiba to one of those small retired rooms, opening on an inner garden and common to every properly built house of any size in Nippon. He closed the few rain-doors, shutting out the light. Then fetching a piece of camphor, he set fire to it. When the thick yellow light flared strongly he took up a hand-mirror and passed it to Kwaiba. Kwaiba was frightened at what he saw. His face was dark as that of a peasant of Satsuma. Said Isuké--"The darkness is shown up by the light of the burning camphor. The colour is due to the poison circulating between the body and the outer skin. The white sunlight does not show up this symptom. But there is another test." Lighting a candle, he took a long steel _kanzashi_ needle and heated it to redness. Holding the cold end by his head towel he grasped the arm of Kwaiba. The latter drew back, afraid. "Nay, it will give no pain," said Isuké. He thrust the hot length of the needle several inches under the skin. As far as Kwaiba was concerned he might as well have thrust it into the straw matting (_tatami_) at his feet. Isuké withdrew the needle and carefully pressed the arm. A brownish liquor oozed out; not blood. "The Danna has a nose--as yet." Kwaiba hastily applied his arm to that member. He turned his face to one side in disgust and horror--"Is this Kwaiba already dead and rotten? In such condition all is lost. Duty no longer can be performed. Service and income cease together. Isuké, there remains naught but to get out the mats. Kwaiba will cut belly." Isuké examined him carefully and quizzically. Satisfied with his inspection, he said--"Deign to have confidence in Isuké. In former days he was not Isuké the _chu[u]gen_. Son of a doctor of the Dutch practice at Nagasaki; gambling, wine, women have reduced Isuké to the state of a servant. Family and friends long since have discarded and cast him out. The severance of relations between parent and child was formal. Isuké owes naught of service or duty to any but his master Kwaiba. Here is his refuge. Deign to give Isuké three silver _ryo[u]_. The disease is curable. Trust the matter to Isuké. _Soppin_ (mercury) duly applied will remove the poison, and with it all the disastrous symptoms. The two hundred and thirty _tawara_ of income are enjoyed by the Wakadono. Service can be performed; and Isuké preserves such a good master." Flattered and frightened Kwaiba at once handed over the money. Isuké disappeared to secure the drug necessary to the "Dutch practice." Baths and potions, potions and baths, followed in due course. The promises of Isuké were fulfilled. The fearful symptoms gradually were alleviated. In the course of six months Kwaiba was himself again; his position was assured to him. He heaved double sighs--of relief from the nightmare which had pursued him; of anxiety at the nightmare substituted for it. Kwaiba was a rake and a gambler. So was Isuké. The two hundred and thirty _tawara_ of income was saved to Kwaiba--and Isuké. Not long after the cure was thus assured Isuké disappeared. Kwaiba sighed gently, with relief at the departure of one who knew too much of his affairs, and with a scared feeling on losing the only "doctor" in whom he had confidence. "These fellows come and go, like leaves on a tree. Isuké has grown tired, and deserted. Some day he may return. This Kwaiba is a good master." Isuké did return--in the form of a note from the Yoshiwara. Twenty _ryo[u]_ were needed to pay his debts to pleasure and gambling. Severely reprimanded, Isuké opened his eyes in astonishment. "Respectfully heard and understood: has the income been reduced? But that does not affect the share of Isuké. He keeps well within his limit." This was the first intimation Kwaiba had of Isuké's views as to his rôle of physician. In those days the doctor usually had the pleasure of performance, not of payment. Moreover with the great--like Kwaiba--performance was carried out at a distance; the pulse felt by the vibration of a string attached to the wrist, or at best by passing the hand under the coverlet. For a time Kwaiba's strange medical attendant devoted himself to his more prosaic duties of _chu[u]gen_. Within ten days his master ransomed him from a resort in Shinagawa; price, ten _ryo[u]_. A few weeks later he was heard from at a gambler's resort in Shinjuku. The note was peremptory--and for fifty _ryo[u]_. Kwaiba lost all patience. Moreover, just then he held office very favourable for bringing this matter to an issue. But he must have Isuké; and have him in Yotsuya. As usual payment secured the presence of a repentant Isuké, full of promises of amendment. Kwaiba smiled, used soft words; and shortly after Isuké was confined to the jail on a trumped up charge of theft from another _chu[u]gen_. Kwaiba, then acting as magistrate for the district, had full power. On notification he assured Isuké of a speedy release. This the unhappy man secured through a poisoned meal, following a long fast. He died raving, and cursing his master. No one heard him but his two jailers, who considered him crazy--this man of bad record. Years had passed, but Isuké merely lay dormant in the mind of Kwaiba. Then came up the affair of Tamiya--the threatening curse of O'Iwa San. Iémon's counsel lasted but over night. With soberness and morning Kwaiba straightway showed the results of wrecked nerves and distorted imagination. Sleepless nights he now visited on his friends by an increasing irritability. The first few days of this state of Kwaiba were laughable. He spoke of O'Iwa San; not freely, rather with reticence. He made his references as of jesting expectation of her advent. Then he passed to boisterous tricks; springing out on the maids from dark corners or the turns in the corridors. Alarmed by these manifestations of the old man--not entirely strange, for he was a terror to the female element in his household--they soon noted that there was an unnatural wildness in his amusement at their discomfiture. Now he would talk of nothing but O'Iwa. From this hysterical mirth he passed to an hysterical fear. Afraid of visions of the Lady of Tamiya he stayed awake at night. To be alone appalled him. He would have others keep awake with him. He was now at the gibbering stage. "Night in the house of Kwaiba is to be turned into day. The day shall be the time for sleep. Lights! Lights! More lights!" He sat surrounded by his household, until the white light of dawn filtered through the spaces above the rain-doors. One of his women, her hair down for washing, met him unexpectedly in the corridor. With a howl of terror he started to flee. Then recognizing her, he flew on her and beat her almost to a jelly in his insane rage. People began to talk of the eccentricities of Ito[u] Kwaiba--the honoured ward head. Barely three weeks after Iémon's visit a violent scene occurred in the mansion of the _Kumi-gashira_. Shouts and screams, the smashing of screens and sounds of a terrific struggle were heard in Kwaiba's room. Kibei, who with the men preferred night for sleep, rushed in. He found the old man standing, stark naked and alone. His attendants had fled--to a woman. His pillow sword drawn, Kwaiba was dancing to this side and that. "Isuké! O'Iwa! Pardon! This Kwaiba is a wicked fellow! Isuké was poisoned by Kwaiba. O'Iwa San? Kwaiba sold her for a street whore. For seven lives they pursue him. Ah! A merry chase! But Kwaiba deals not with night-hawks. His game is higher. Away with the huzzy!" He had grasped in both hands the flower vase standing in the alcove (_tokonoma_). Kibei dodged, and catching him by a wrestler's hold, threw him to the ground. Kakusuké, just entering, was knocked flat by the heavy missile. Groaning, he rose, and with other servants came to the aid of the Wakadono. Kwaiba was overpowered and guarded during the remainder of the night. With daylight he knew nothing of what had occurred; at least he made no reference to it, no response to the talk of others. His fear was now full on him. He babbled of nothing but Isuké and O'Iwa San. Now he was incapacitated, downright ill. There was no more turning of day into night, and _vice versa_. He was in the hands of his nurses. But to humour him Kibei marshalled the women. Their beds were made encircling that of Kwaiba in the midst. Kibei and Kakusuké were present. Thus they lay in this room brilliant with its scores of lanterns, its wax lights blazing on the lamp-stands. At the sides and in each corner were placed the scrolls of the holy _sutra_. Kwaiba in despair sought a sleep which would not favour him. "Some one walks in the corridor.... Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!... Kibei! Kibei!" The appeal to the man would bring quicker response than that to the Buddha. Indeed there was a sound, as of hair rubbing across the paper screens, of some one or something trying to peer through the opaque material. There was a rattle and dash of rain. A gust swept through the corridor, the _sho[u]ji_ slightly parted. Kwaiba gave a shriek--"O'Iwa! O'Iwa San! Ah! The bloated face, the drooping eyelid, the corpse taint in the air. It catches Kwaiba's throat. O'Iwa the O'Baké would force away Kwaiba the living. Ha! Ha!" A stronger gust, and the _sho[u]ji_ dislodged from its groove whirled round and fell noisily into the room. Terror gave strength to the sick man. Kwaiba sprang madly forward. It was horrible to see the ghastly renovation of this tottering, flabby, emaciated man, who yet inspired the fear of a maniac's reckless strength. The frightened women huddled and crouched in the now darkened room, lit but by a single _andon_ near the alcove. Was Kwaiba mad? As the men fought over the ruins of the _sho[u]ji_, in the darkness of the corridor, at first faint as a mist, then distinctly seen, the women were assured of the presence of O'Iwa. In long black robe, face wide and bloated, of a livid greenish tint, hair in wild disorder, bulging forehead, swollen eyeless lids, she stood over the struggling men. Suddenly she thrust the severed head she carried into the face of Kwaiba, leering horribly at him the while. With a yell he fell flat on his back. The braver entered with lights. All gathered round the unconscious Kwaiba. This scene was the crisis of his disorder. The disease, once dormant, now fell on him suddenly and with full force. Perhaps these mental symptoms were its first indication. More annoying to his comfort, ulcers broke out all over his body. The itching drove the man nearly frantic. His mad scratching spread the sores. The boils developed. They ran with pus. So terrible was the stench that few would stay by him. The women fled the room in terror, driven away by the running stream of physical corruption, the continual babble of lewdness from the corrupt mind. He soon noted their absence. Kibei, attended by the sturdy and faithful Kakusuké, remained to nurse him. Suddenly said Kwaiba--"O'Hana, the harlot of Reigan; this Kwaiba would have talk and dalliance with her. Summon her hither. Let wine and the _samisen_ be brought, a feast prepared. O'Hana! O'Hana!" He raved so for the woman that Kibei thought her presence would quiet him. A request was sent to the house of Iémon. Wishing her to know nothing of the affair of O'Iwa, Iémon had kept silence. He would have refused the mission--on the pretext of a quarrel with Kwaiba and Kibei. O'Hana showed herself unexpectedly obstinate--"It is to the favour of Kwaiba Sama that Iémon owes this Hana. She has a duty to the past, as well as to the present." With a snarl she turned on him, glowering. Iémon shrank back. He passed his hand across the eyes into which O'Iwa had just looked. He no longer opposed her going. O'Hana was still weak from repeated attacks of the fever which had visited her ever since the night Iémon had cast forth the _aodaisho[u]_. She said that the snake had bitten her. It was the poison, not fever, working in her. Iémon had laughed at her proposal to try the exorcisms of the priest. Behind the irritation aroused by his scepticism was that peculiar clinging of a woman to an old lover, to a man with whom she had been intimate. In the heart of O'Hana there still remained a strong leaning to the man who had removed her from the rapid and nauseating life of the Fukagawa brothel, which cast her into the arms of anyone who paid the price and raised his finger. With time and the old conditions probably she would have been as unfaithful to Iémon as she had been to Kwaiba. The latter showing his desire, she would have answered his call. Even before this disease-eaten swollen mass of dropsy, she showed but temporary repugnance. Leaning over him, almost overcome by the stench, with endearing terms she strove to rouse him to consciousness and recognition of her. It seemed fearful to have him die without the word of parting. Kibei aided her by raising the old man. The result was a horrible frightened stare in eyes made large by fever and delirium. Long he gazed at her. Said the woman--"'Tis Hana; Hana once the intimate of Kwaiba. Deign to take courage. This is but a passing affliction. With Hana as nurse recovery to health is assured." She laid her hands on his shoulders. In so doing her hair, come loose, fell down around her wan face. Kwaiba was as galvanized. With a howl the old man pushed her violently away. "Scrawny wench! What impudence to show your face here! Ah! To the last moment, waking and in dreams, she pursues this Kwaiba. I sold you. 'Tis true--I sold you for a night-hawk--to Toémon of Honjo[u]. Does Kwaiba consort with wenches of such ilk?" Raising his fist he dealt her blow after blow, all the time shouting--"O'Iwa! O'Iwa! The O'Baké solicits Kwaiba. Broken loose from Hell and the waters of Warigesui she would force away Kwaiba. Help! Help! Aid for Kwaiba! Away with the O'Baké!" The old man again had broken into his mad fit. The shouts of Kibei brought Kakusuké. Kwaiba's hands were detached from the masses of O'Hana's hair. The wounds on her face were not so deep as those inflicted on her mind. At last the secret was out. In bare feet she fled along the muddy street toward the Samoncho[u] house. It was true that the vileness of the disease, the vileness of Kwaiba's tongue, had driven the women from attendance in the sick room to the remotest quarters of the house. But there was a deterrent even to their now limited service. All said the place where Kwaiba lay was haunted. Under press of necessity a maid had brought needed medicaments to the sick man's room. Putting down the light she carried on the _ro[u]ka_, she pushed open the _sho[u]ji_ to enter the outer chamber. Her robe caught as she did so. Turning to release it she gave a fearful shriek. Standing in the corridor, at the open screen behind her, were two tall figures robed in black. With dishevelled hair, broad white flat faces, bulging brows, eyelids swollen and sightless, yet they gazed through and through the onlooker and into the farther room. One creature, even more hideous with drooping lid and baldness extending far back, half moved, half fell toward the frightened maid. The woman's screams now were mingled with wild laughter. Kibei came rushing out, sword drawn, to find her in a fit of mad hysterics. Catching the drift of her broken phrases he went out on the _ro[u]ka_. There was no one there. _Haori_ and _kimono_, hung up there to dry, rustled and moved a little in the draft. Had these frightened the woman? Kakusuké carried her back to her companions. Henceforth no one would enter that part of the building occupied by the sick man. Kibei as son, Kakusuké the old and faithful attendant, were isolated in their nursing. Kibei noted the sick man's face. "Father, why the forehead so wrinkled? Is pain condescended?" Said Kwaiba--"'Tis the rats; they gnaw and worry at Kwaiba."--"Rats?" replied Kibei in some astonishment. He looked around. The _sho[u]ji_ were tight closed. Kwaiba noted the inspection. He shook his head, and pointed to the _rama-sho[u]ji_, the ornamental open work near the ceiling. This could not be obviated. "Auntie (Obasan) is old and deaf. She sleeps; while rats, attracted by the foul sores of the scrofulous child, enter and attack the infant in its cradle. The child gets thinner and weaker every day; then dies. A terrible creature is the rat." So much for the opinion of Nippon. Kibei had brought a mosquito net. Its edges were weighted down with heavy stones. Thus the watchers could not be taken by surprise. Under its protection the sick man was saved from annoyance. Said Kibei--"This illness is most tedious. Could not Kibei go to the Yoshiwara for a space? The letters of the Kashiku (_oiran_) accumulate. Kibei has nothing to give, and has given no explanation for not giving. What thinks Kakusuké?" Kakusuké was brave. Moreover he knew the Wakadono was brave. The prospect, however, of facing his old master in a crazy fit--and perhaps O'Iwa--had no attraction. He gave his advice--"The Go Inkyo[u] Sama is in a very precarious state. He is now very weak. The worst may happen at any moment. For the Wakadono to be taking his pleasure at the Yoshiwara would arouse criticism in the ward; nay, even more than criticism. It would be held unfilial. Deign to reconsider the purpose." Kibei looked sourly at the swollen corruption which represented Kwaiba--"How does he hold on! His strength must be great." Kakusuké shrugged his shoulders--"The Go Inkyo[u] Sama will not die easily. He has much to go through yet."--"In the name of all the _kami_ and Buddhas, how has he come to such an end? He is a sight to inspire fear--in those who can feel such." Replied Kakusuké with sly look--"The Go Inkyo[u] Sama has lived high, and loved beyond measure. The Wakadono does well to reconsider his purpose." The night was passing. The two men, worn out by the continued watching and nursing, after vain struggle to keep awake had gone to sleep. Kakusuké was in the room with Kwaiba. In his slumber Kibei was back in the fencing room. The clash of the wooden swords (_bokken_), the cries of the contestants, rang clear in his ears. He woke to find rain and storm shaking and tearing at the _amado_. But it was the shouts of Kakusuké, standing at the _sho[u]ji_, which had aroused him--"Danna Sama! Danna Sama! Wakadono! At once! At once! Deign to hasten!" Kibei rushed into the next room. In fright Kakusuké pointed to the mosquito net. A figure stood upright within it, swaying, gesticulating, struggling. It was a figure all black and horrible. "Un! Un!" grunted Kwaiba. He was answered by a mincing, gnawing sound. "Father! Have courage! Kibei is here." He rushed at the heavy stones, to toss them to one side and enter the net. The swaying figure within suddenly toppled over in a heap. With his sword Kibei tore and severed the cording of the net. The black mass of rats scattered to the eight directions of space. On approaching Kwaiba a terrible sight met the eye. Eyes, ears, nose, chin, toes and fingers had been torn and eaten off. The lips were gnawed away and exposed to view the grinning teeth. A feeble groan--and Kwaiba had met his end. Neither Kibei nor Kakusuké dared to touch the foul body. In their panic the two men looked in each other's faces. "Namu Amida Butsu! Holy the Lord Buddha, Amida!" prayed Kibei, on his knees before the corpse. "Namu Amida Butsu!" answered Kakusuké.[29] CHAPTER XVIII IN THE SHADOW OF THE GO-INKYO[U] Said a neighbour next day, on meeting his fellow-gossip--"Ah! Is it Goémon San? It is said the Go Inkyo[u] is to be congratulated." Kamimura Goémon sniffed. He was a long man; with long face, long nose, long thin arms, long thin legs; a malicious man, who longed to give advice to his fellows which they much disliked to hear, and liked to see them writhe under the infliction. In fact this epitome of length rarely spoke in good faith or temper--"The Go Inkyo[u] is to be congratulated? Escaping the troubles of this world, perhaps he has fallen into worse troubles in the next." At this unorthodox reply Mizoguchi Hambei showed surprise. Continued Goémon--"The Go Inkyo[u] died a leper, eaten by the rats. Such an end hardly calls for congratulations." Mizoguchi gasped, with round eyes and round face. "Extraordinary!"--"Not at all," replied Kamimura, complacently tapping the palm of one hand with the elongated fingers of the other. "The Go Inkyo[u] drove out O'Iwa San from Tamiya. He gave O'Hana in her stead to Iémon as wife. Hana the harlot! Cursed by O'Iwa in dying, he has met this frightful end. Akiyama, Natsumé, Imaizumi will surely follow. As will all those involved in the affair."--"But is O'Iwa San really the cause of the death? The Go Inkyo[u] in life was not the most careful of men in conserving health." This was timidly interjected by a third party. Kamimura suppressed him with a scowl--"Of course it is O'Iwa San. Has she not been seen? The women of the house answer for it. Only Kibei the sceptic, and Kakusuké who would face the devil in person, attempt to deny it." He threw up a hand. With unction--"Ah! It inspires fear. Small is the profit of wickedness and malice. He is a fool who indulges in either.... How cold it is for the time of year!" Said the interloper--"But the congratulations have to be rendered all the same. It will be necessary to attend the all-night watch. How vexatious! Perhaps O'Iwa San will not appear. There is no getting out of it?"--"Certainly not," answered Kamimura. "The Go Inkyo[u] was the head of the ward association. Twelve neighbours have been invited to the watch. At dawn the body is to be prepared. A pleasant undertaking, if all that is said be true! The viands will be of the best, the wine no worse and plentiful. None must fail to attend." He smacked his lips. The others likewise, but much less heartily. It was an unwilling band which crawled in laggard procession through rain and mud and the length of the Teramachi to Kwaiba's house. A _do[u]shin_, the ward chief, a rich man, the mansion displayed all its splendour. The atmosphere, however, was oppressive. Kibei greeted the guests with heartiness, and accepted their condolence and gifts with lavish thanks and the cheerful face of him that profiteth by the funeral. Kakusuké was his main aid in connection with the Go Inkyo[u]'s last appearance. Occasionally a timid white-faced woman was seen, but she would flit away from the scene of these festivities, to seek the companionship of her panic-stricken fellows. Entering the funereal chamber the body was found, laid out and decently swathed so as to cover, as far as possible, the horrible nature of the death. On a white wood stand was the _ihai_ in white wood, a virtuous lie as to the qualities of the deceased. It ran--Tentoku Gishin Jisho[u] Daishi. Which can be interpreted--"A man of brilliant virtues, virtuous heart, and benevolent temperament." Screens, upside down, were placed at the head: "Alas! The screen: the carp descends the fall."[30] Akiyama, Natsumé, Imaizumi, were the last to appear. The former had been composing a violent quarrel between his two friends--the long and the fat. Much recrimination had passed, and the usually peaceful Imaizumi was in a most violent and truculent humour. He glared with hate on Natsumé, who now aided Akiyama in efforts to soothe his anger. On entering the assembly the looks of all were composed. "A retribution for deeds in the past world. Old; but so vigorous! The offering is a mere trifle. This Kyuzo[u] would burn a stick of incense." Kibei extended his thanks and suppressed his smile as much as possible. He was breathing with full lungs for the first time in weeks. The storm was over; happiness was ahead; the clouded sky was all serene. "Thanks are felt. This Kibei is most fortunate: nay, grateful. Such kindness is not to be forgotten during life."--"The Inkyo[u] an _hotoké_; Iémon Dono and O'Hana are the husband and wife not present?" The question came from some one in the room. "O'Hana San is very ill. Her state is serious. Iémon does not leave her." Akiyama answered for the truant pair. Kibei's joy was complete. Akiyama, Natsumé, Imaizumi were standing by Kwaiba's body. Kamimura slowly approached. The long man's face was longer than ever; longer, much longer than that of Natsumé; and Kibei was not in the running. Goémon meditatively fondled his nose; on the pretence of concentrating thought, and for the purpose of relieving that member from the savour arising from Kwaiba's bier. This was no bed of roses--"Yes, the Inkyo[u] is indeed dead." He sniffed. "Soon it will be the turn of all of you--to be like this;" another sniff--"of Iémon and O'Hana, of Natsumé and Imaizumi, of this Akiyama San." The latter gave a violent start. With hand to his nose also, he turned on the intruder. Continued Goémon--"A plot was concocted against O'Iwa San. Beggared and driven from the ward, deceived and sold as a street harlot, this death of the Inkyo[u] is but the first in the roll of her vengeance. Kamimura speaks with pure heart and without malice. You men are not long for this world. Is Akiyama San reconciled? And...." He pointed a skinny finger at Kyuzo[u], then at Jinzaémon. "You show it. Your eyes are hollow; your nostrils are fallen in. The colour of the face is livid. You seem already to be _hotoké_, prepared to lie with the Go Inkyo[u]." Akiyama found his tongue. He burst out in a rage--"The jest is unseemly. Kamimura San goes too far. It is true this Cho[u]zaémon gave counsel to Ito[u] Kwaiba. Kyuzo[u] and Jinzaémon took some part in what followed. But we acted on the orders of Ito[u] Dono, of Iémon San. On the first will be visited any grudge." Goémon laughed harshly. He pointed to the corpse. "Here he lies. How did he die? Goémon does not jest, and the argument of Akiyama San is rotten. The master bids the servants to beat the snow from the bushes. The snow falls on them; not on him. How now Akiyama San?" Cho[u]zaémon turned away discomfited. All three felt very bad--in mind and body. The bell of Sainenji struck the eighth hour (1 A.M.). Just opposite, its clangour filled the whole mansion with a ghostly sound. In the depths of night this inert mass of metal seemed a thing of life, casting its influence into the lives of those present, rousing them to face grave issues. Noting the absence of Natsumé, the round-faced, round-eyed, round-bodied Imaizumi followed after. Kibei came forth from the supper room, to find his guests all flown. "Where have they gone to, Kakusuké?" He looked around in amazement--"They were taken with pains in the belly. With this excuse they departed. Yotsuya is afflicted with a flux." The _chu[u]gen_ answered in the dry and certain tone of one unconvinced. Kibei shrugged his shoulders. "There is naught wrong with wine or viands?"--"Nor with the guests," replied Kakusuké. "They are cowards, who have caught some inkling as to the not over-nice death of the Go Inkyo[u]."--"The latter day _bushi_ are not what the _bushi_ were of old; at least this brand of them. Ah! These wretched little bureaucrats; _bushi_ of the pen. Two men to eat a supper prepared for twelve sturdy trenchers. Well: two are enough to wash the corpse. Lend a hand Kakusuké."--"Respectfully heard and obeyed," replied the _chu[u]gen_. The white dress for the last cover to the body was laid ready. Secured by Kwaiba many years before in a pilgrimage to the holy Ko[u]yasan, the sacred characters were woven into its tissue. Kakusuké dragged a large tub into the bathroom. Kwaiba's body was unswathed and placed in it. Kakusuké eyed his late master with critical and unfavourable eye. "Naruhodo! The Go Inkyo[u] is a strange object. No eyes: nose, ears, lips gone; his expression is not a pleasant one.... Nay! The Wakadono is awkward. Throw the water from head to feet.... Take care! Don't throw it over Kakusuké. He at least is yet alive. The Wakadono is wasteful. More is needed. Deign to wait a moment. Kakusuké draws it from the well." He opened the side door and went outside. Kibei drew a little apart from the body. It stank. A noise at the sliding window (_hikimado_) in the roof made him look up. Oya! Oya! The face of O'Iwa filled the aperture--round, white, flat; with puffed eyelids and a sightless glare. With a cry of horror and surprise Kibei sprang to the door. As he did so slender attenuated hands groped downward. "Kakusuké! Kakusuké!"--"What is it, Wakadono?"--"O'Iwa: she looks down through the _hikimado_! She seeks the Inkyo[u]!" Kakusuké gave a look upward--"Bah! It's the cat. Is the Wakadono, too, getting nerves? They are a poor investment."--"The cat!" Kibei sighed with relief. Nevertheless he kept his hand on his sword. He turned round--to give a shout of surprise--"Kakusuké! Kakusuké! The body of the Go Inkyo[u] is no longer here." As the astonished _chu[u]gen_ came running to look into the empty tub, both men nearly fell over in their wonder. The body of the Inkyo[u] was whirling around the neighbouring room in execution of a mad dance. Followed by Kakusuké, his worthy son and heir sprang in pursuit. Invisible hands led Kwaiba and the pursuers into the darkness of the garden, into the rain and storm. Kibei heard the steps just in front of him. He pursued madly after them. "To lose his parent's body--this was against all rules of Bushido[u]." Thus comments the scribe of Nippon. Kibei could commit all the moral and physical atrocities except--failure in filial conduct to parent and lord; the unpardonable sins of the Scripture of Bushido[u]. Kakusuké soon lost his master in the darkness. Disconcerted and anxious he returned to secure a lantern. The wind promptly blew it out; then another, and a third. He stood on the _ro[u]ka_ in the darkness to wait the return of the Wakadono. For the first time Kakusuké had noted failing purpose in his young master. He was more solicitous over this than over the strange disappearance of the Inkyo[u]'s body. Was the Wakadono losing his nerve; as had the O'Dono? In time Kibei reappeared. To Kakusuké's inquiring glance--"Kibei pursued to Myo[u]gyo[u]ji; then up the hill. Here sight was lost of the Inkyo[u]. The darkness prevented further search. A lantern is next to worthless in this gale. Kakusuké, go to the houses of Natsumé and Imaizumi close by. They are young and will aid Kibei in the search." Kakusuké did not demur. Pulling his cape over his head, off he posted. He asked but to come across the Inkyo[u]'s body, in O'Iwa's company or not made no difference to this iron-hearted servitor. His mission was fruitless. The two men had expressed the intention of spending the night at the Kwaiba wake. Neither had as yet returned. Grumbled Kibei--"The filthy fellows! With this excuse to their wives they seek new pastures at Nakacho[u] (Shinjuku), to spend the night in dissipation. 'Tis Natsumé who is the lecher. Gladly would he wean Imaizumi from his barely wed wife."--"Or wean the wife from Imaizumi Sama! Wakadono, nothing can be done now. The dawn should be awaited." With these sage comments the _chu[u]gen_ squatted at respectful distance from his master. From time to time one or other arose, to look sceptically into the empty tub in which once had reposed the Inkyo[u]'s body. Finally both nodded off into sleep. At dawn--don, don, don, don, came a loud knocking on the outer gate. Kakusuké went out, to return with astonished face and portentous news. The dead bodies of Natsumé Kyuzo[u] and Imaizumi Jinzaémon had been found at the foot of the _baké-icho[u]_, a huge tree close by the guardhouse. Finger tip to finger tip three men could not girdle this tree. With the bodies of the men lay that of a woman. Two corpses, man and woman, were stark naked. Kibei's presence, as the successor to Kwaiba's office, was required. He prepared at once to start for the Okido[u]. The tale was in time learned from the prolix Kamimura Goémon, who had witnessed part at least of the scene. As he was knocking at his door on the Shinjuku road, having just returned late from the watch at Kwaiba's house, rapid steps were heard in the street. A man, recognized as Kyuzo[u], passed, running at top speed. He dragged along by the hand a woman, the wife of Imaizumi. The two were nearly naked. Close in the rear pursued Imaizumi Jinzaémon, his drawn sword in his hand. They sped up the wide road. Goémon stepped out, to follow at a distance this flight and pursuit. At the _icho[u]_ tree the fugitives were overtaken. The woman was the first to be cut down. Kyuzo[u] turned to grapple with the assailant. Unarmed his fate soon overtook him. He fell severed from shoulder to pap. Having finished his victims Imaizumi seated himself at the foot of the tree, and cut open his belly. "Long had such outcome been expected," intoned the long-nosed man. The case needed no explanation. Others echoed the opinion of Goémon, who was merely many fathoms deeper in the scandal of the neighbourhood than most of them. It was agreed to hush the matter up. Reporting his own experience, to the astonishment of his hearers, Kibei, accompanied by Kakusuké, started down Teramachi toward Samégabashi. As they passed the Gwansho[u]ji attention was drawn by a pack of dogs, fighting and quarrelling in the temple cemetery. A white object lay in the midst. With a shout the men sprang in. Tearing up a grave stick Kibei rushed into the pack, driving off the animals. There lay the body of Ito[u] Kwaiba, brought hither by the hands of O'Iwa to be torn and mangled by the teeth of the brutes. Thus was it that the funerals of Ito[u] Kwaiba, Natsumé Kyuzo[u], and Imaizumi Jinzaémon took place in one cortége on the same day and at the same time. The postponement in the first instance--was it providential? CHAPTER XIX TAMIYA YOÉMON: WITH NEWS OF KONDO[U] ROKURO[U]BEI AND MYO[U]ZEN THE PRIEST Tamiya Yoémon was stumbling home in all haste from the funeral of Ito[u] Kwaiba. He was full of news for the wife, O'Kamé. The neighbours could talk of nothing but the strange happenings in the ward, and details lost nothing in the telling; perhaps gained somewhat by the process. Most edifying was the reported conduct of the wife of the late Natsumé Kyuzo[u], the observed of all observers at the funeral, the object of that solicitous congratulation which embodies the secret sigh of relief of friends, neighbours, and relatives at the removal of a prospective burden. Natsumé had left behind him a wife, an old mother, an infant child, and huge liabilities. To administer this legacy--and perhaps to get rid of her mother-in-law--the wife had promptly and tearfully sacrificed her status, and sold herself for a term of years to the master of the Sagamiya, a pleasure house at Shinagawa post town. The sum paid--one hundred _ryo[u]_--relieved the immediate future. The neighbours derided the ignorance of the Sagamiya in accepting the uncertain bail of Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon. If the lady behaved badly, small satisfaction was to be obtained of her security. "Ignorance is bliss." Let the Sagamiya bask in both and the beauty of the prize. Meanwhile their concern and admiration were for the lady destined to this post town of the crowded To[u]kaido[u], the stopping place of high and low, noble and riff-raff, entering Edo town. Of the inmates of the pleasure quarters, the harlots of Shinagawa, Shinjuku, Itabashi, were held in lowest esteem. Arrived at his door Yoémon stopped short in surprise and alarm. To his loud call of "Wife! Wife!" answer there was none. Looking within he could barely distinguish objects through the thick smoke which filled the house. The last thing the Nipponese would do under such conditions, would be to throw open doors and panels. This would convert the place at once to a blazing conflagration. Where was the fire getting its start? Choking and spluttering Yoémon groped his way through the rooms into the rear. Wherever the fire was, it was not in the living rooms. The smoke was accentuated on reaching the kitchen. Here was a smell of burning rice, of Yoémon's dinner gradually carbonizing under the influence of an element other than the juices of his round stomach. Looking into the room, through the thickened haze he saw the flame of the fire brightening. O'Kamé the wife could be made out, on her knees before the portable furnace. She was blowing a mass of slivers and brushwood into flame by the aid of a bamboo pipe. It was this stuff, green and partly wet, which gave out the choking acrid smoke. Yoémon was angered beyond measure at the sight of his ruined meal and expectations. "Kamé! Kamé! What are you doing? Have you gone mad? Ma! Ma! The dinner is being ruined. You are ill. Kamé's head whirls with head-ache. Yoémon will act as cook. Go to bed--at once." At his peremptory speech the wife looked up into the face of the husband standing over her. She scowled at him in a way to cause fear. "Not a _sho[u]_ of rice; not a _mon_. Yoémon would give freely to a beggar, rather than confer a 'cash' on Iwa. Yoémon sells me as a street harlot." He started back in fright before the snarling distorted visage. The wife sprang to her feet. Pash! On his devoted head descended the hot iron pan with its content of stew. "Ah! Kamé is mad--clean daft." With a wild laugh she seized the pot full of boiling rice and began to pour it into the drain. When he tried to stop her, he received the mess full in his bosom--"Mad? Not at all. This Kamé never felt in better spirits. When grass grows in Samoncho[u] we enter Nirvana. Ha! Ha! Ha! To hasten the happy time!" With a kick she knocked over the furnace. In an instant the _tatami_ was in a blaze. Yelling like mad, shouting for help, Yoémon leaped from the house. O'Kamé seized the burning brands in her bare hands, hurling them into this room and into that. Outstripping the old Yoémon, the younger men of the neighbours rushed in. The mad woman was soon overcome and carried from the burning building. Nothing else was saved. They took her to the house of Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon. Here she was tied hand and foot, and put in a closet. The old man Yoémon stood by in despair, watching the progress of events. Before the conflagration was extinguished his own and four other houses were destroyed. He was a ruined man; responsible for all. Myo[u]zen the priest had just set foot on the slope leading up from Samégabashi to Yotsuya. A somewhat long retreat at Myo[u]honji, attendance at the ceremonies held on the Saint's (Nichiren) birthday, had kept him in ignorance of recent events in Yotsuya. In the dawn of the beautiful day of earliest 3rd month (our April 13th) he had set out from Kamakura. Sturdy as were the priest's limbs, yet he was a little tired. He rested at the foot of the hill. Then his eyes grew big with astonishment. In the waning afternoon a funeral came wending its way downwards. But such a funeral! Two spearmen led the way. Then came a long train of attendants. Three catafalques followed, the first a most imposing bier. Then came the relatives. Kibei on horseback headed these. The women rode in _kago_. That it was a ward funeral Myo[u]zen had no doubt, both from its source and make up. He noted a parishioner in the cortége. "Kamimura Uji!" The long-limbed, long-faced, long-tongued man left the ranks and obsequiously greeted his spiritual father. At Myo[u]zen's question he expressed gratified surprise, and unlimbered his lingual member at once--"Whose honoured funeral this? Nay! It is a triple funeral; that of Natsumé Kyuzo[u], Imaizumi Jinzaémon, the Go Inkyo[u], our ward-head. It is owing to this latter that there is such an outpouring of the ward, with attendance of barrier guards and firemen. Although the ending of Natsumé and Jinzaémon was not edifying, that of our honoured once head gratified still more the public curiosity. Gnawed and eaten by the rats he died most horribly." He told of the eventful night. "Hence delay in the burial. The deaths of Natsumé and Imaizumi were almost coincident. The body of the adulterous woman, rejected by both families, was cast out on the moor." He noted with satisfaction the great impression his tale made on the priest, as also the clerical garb and rosary held in hand. "Pray join the band. A little re-adjustment...." He bent down. With the baton he held in hand as leader of his section he carefully dusted the robes. Adjusting the folds he pronounced the results as most presentable. "The honoured Osho[u] is ready to bury or be buried." Myo[u]zen took this remark in very ill form. He prepared to answer tartly, but curiosity overcame his weariness and ill temper. The procession was moving fast. He fell at once into line, with hardly an acknowledgment of Kamimura's courtesy, as this latter hastened forward to his place. His neighbour in the procession explained. The nature of the deaths of the three men had aroused the feeling in the ward. Their connection with a conspiracy against O'Iwa San was now generally known. Without doubt it was owing to her vengeance that they had died as they did. Let them lie outside the quarter. The protest to Kibei was respectful but emphatic. A newcomer, he had made no great resistance. It was determined to bury them at the Denzu-In, close by the mound of the nameless dead of Edo's great fire of more than half a century before. Hence the direction of the cortége. As the cemetery of the great temple was approached the curiosity of Myo[u]zen, morbidly growing the while, became overpowering. The priest slipped from rank to rank. At the grave he stood in the very front. As long-time friend he besought a last glance at the dead. Those given to Natsumé and Imaizumi called forth a careless prayer for each. The men hesitated before raising the cover concealing the body of Kwaiba. At Myo[u]zen's peremptory gesture they complied. He bent over and looked in. Frozen with horror, he was fascinated by those great holes for eyes, large as teacups, which seemed to fix him. Dead of leprosy, gnawed and torn by beasts, the face presented a sight unforgettable. The holes torn in the flesh twisted the features into a lifelike, though ghastly, sardonic grin, full of the pains of the hell in which Kwaiba had suffered and now suffered. A stench arose from the box which made the hardened bearers hold their noses and draw away. Yet the priest bent down all the closer. In his corruption the lips of the old man seemed to move. Did Kwaiba speak? Closer and closer: Myo[u]zen seemed never satisfied with this inspection. The poise and brain gave way. Priest and corpse met in the horrible salutation. With exclamation the attendants sprang forward. Myo[u]zen in a dead faint was carried apart and laid on the ground. Some priests of the hall busied themselves over him. Somewhat revived he was taken off to the residence quarters of the temple, and soon was able to return to his home. "Curious fool." Kibei was greatly angered. He was easily irritated in these days. The delay in the rites almost maddened him. Would old Kwaiba--his father Ito[u] Inkyo[u]--never be got out of men's sight? Out of Kibei's sight? That night Myo[u]zen sat alone in his quarters. Somewhat shaken, he was ashamed and regretful at thought of his unseemly curiosity of the afternoon. The priests of Denzuin had regarded him with covert amusement and repulsion. He had noted one passing the sleeve of his robe over his lips. Myo[u]zen explained the incident by more than usual weariness. They condoled with him, and made horrified gestures of ill-disguised glee when they thought his attention was elsewhere. In his present privacy the scene at the grave came back to mind again and again. "Ah! Ah! If this Myo[u]zen had not looked. The Inkyo[u]'s face was terrible. Myo[u]zen cannot put it from mind." He glanced at the pages of the sutra lying before him. He turned them over. He knew they spoke of the horribleness of death; but what was the cold script to the actuality? It was no use, the attempt to read. Kwaiba's face interposed. "Oh! That salute! The very idea of that terrible salute, the contact with corruption!" He was as if plunged in an icy bath. He started nervously. It was but rain dashing against the _amado_, rattling and twisting in the gale. He could not sleep. That night he would watch. The fire was hot in the _hibachi_ (brazier). He went to the closet to get some tea. On opening it he sprang back with a shout of alarm, to lean trembling and quivering in every limb huddled against the wall. "Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]!" One character of the wondrous formula secured pardon and safety to the believer in that paradise of Amida which Myo[u]zen was in no great haste to visit. Shivering as with a chill intently he watched the animal as it glided along the edge of the room, to disappear into the shadows. He shrugged his shoulders wearily. A rat had frightened him almost out of his wits! His heart beat tumultuously, almost to suffocation; then it seemed to cease altogether; to resume its wild career. Hardly was he again seated, his hand on the kettle--don--don, don--don, don, don, don. Some one was violently knocking on the door. Myo[u]zen sprang up. Approaching the _amado_ with silent step he eyed the bolts: "All secure." Snatching up a stake close by he jammed it in between floor and crosspiece. Leaning heavily on the panel he listened. "Myo[u]zen Sama! Osho[u] Sama! Condescend to open; deign to give entrance! The storm nearly throws one to the ground. News! News for the Osho[u]! A request to make!" Myo[u]zen held his ground against this outer temptation. "Who are you, out at this hour of the night and in such weather? To-night Myo[u]zen does not open. Go away; return in daylight."--"But the honoured Osho[u] Sama is needed. His presence is requested. Deign to open; at least to hear the message. The priest aids the afflicted." There was something in the voice he recognized, despite its terror. Regaining some courage he parleyed. The priest was for the consolation of the unfortunate. O'Iwa had been, was unfortunate. He could not open. "Who are you? Unless the name be given this Myo[u]zen holds no further talk. To-night he is unwell, positively ill. Come at dawn and Myo[u]zen will receive you."--"Who? Does not the voice answer for the person? This is Tomobei, from the house of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. Deign to open. The master needs and calls for the aid of the Osho[u] Sama." Voice and speech, the importance of Kondo[u] in the life of Myo[u]zen, broke down his hesitation. Slowly he removed the bars. Tomobei entered, dripping with wet. He cast down his straw coat at the entrance. The man's eyes and manner were wild. He kept casting frightened looks into the wild welter of storm outside. When the priest would withdraw into the room he held him by the skirt. "What has happened?" commanded Myo[u]zen briefly. Replied Tomobei--"A terrible thing! To-day the master was ready to attend the funeral of Ito[u] Inkyo[u]. The wife was engaged in putting the house _kimono_ in the closet. O'Tama was playing on the upper _ro[u]ka_. She is but seven years old. Leaning far over to see her father leave, she lost her balance. Down she fell, to be impaled on the knife-like points of the _shinobi-gaeshi_. The sharp-pointed bamboo, protection against thieves, have robbed the Danna of his greatest treasure (_tama_). Deep into throat and chest ran the cruel spikes, to appear through the back. The sight inspired fear, so horrible was it. He could but call out--'Tomobei! Tomobei!' All effort to detach the child, to saw off the points, did but make matters worse. It was necessary to fetch a ladder. When taken down she was dead. Alas! Alas! The Okusama is nearly crazed. The Danna Sama in his cruel distress does but rage through the house. 'Myo[u]zen Osho[u], he loved the child. Let Myo[u]zen Osho[u] be summoned to say a prayer of direction, while yet the child spirit hovers hereabouts.' Such is the cry of the Okusama. Hence the presence of this Tomobei. Otherwise he would rather be scourged at the white sand than face the darkness in which O'Iwa San wanders abroad." Man and priest were weeping. The former in his fright and over the confusion and distress fallen on the household; the priest over the sudden and dreadful end of this child to whom the homeless one, the man devoted to the solitary life, had taken an unbounded affection as of a father. Great as was his terror, he forgot his own ills in the greater misfortune of the life-long friend. He remained bowed in prayer. "Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Oh! The wondrous law, the _sutra_ of the Lotus!" He rose--"Myo[u]zen comes." As they struggled through the storm, Tomobei kept up a nonsensical, running talk, full of the superstitious fear of the man of the lower classes. "Iya! The affair has been terrible, but misfortune is in the air.... What's that! Ah! Something passes by ... above. O'Iwa! O'Iwa!" He seized the priest's arm and clung to him in terror. Myo[u]zen's fears had all returned. He would have run away, but was too tightly held. "Where! Where!" He shrieked and whirled around toward Samégabashi. Tomobei held on tenaciously to his skirts. An object was bearing down on them in the dark. Close upon priest and man they jumped to one side. A cold hand was laid on the neck of the cleric, who squawked with fear. A howl answered the howls and mad cries and blows of the two men, who now threw themselves flat on the ground to shut out sight of the apparition. The beast sped down the hill. Discomfited, Myo[u]zen disentangled himself from the embraces of a broken water spout, which descending from the roof under which he had taken shelter, was sending its cold stream down his neck. Tomobei rose from the mud puddle in which he lay face downward. They gazed at each other. "A dog! A wandering cur!" Myo[u]zen eyed his once immaculate garments with disgust. How present himself in such a state! Tomobei read his thoughts and determined to keep a companion so hardly won. "There are present but the master and the Okusama, Tomobei, and Kiku; other company there is none.... Yes; the Ojo[u]san."--"The corpse needs no company," said Myo[u]zen testily. In his disgrace and unkempt condition Myo[u]zen was unduly irritated at his child friend. The business was to be gone through. They were opposite the cemetery of Sainenji, on its western side. Said Tomobei--"A paling is loose. There is no need to descend the hill. This is no cheerful spot at this hour. Deign to sprint it, Osho[u] Sama. In the time one can count ten the entrance at the rear is reached. Deign a spurt, honoured priest; deign to sprint." Myo[u]zen felt he was in for everything this night. With Tomobei he tucked up his robes to his hams, as if entering a race. Crawling through the bamboo palings into the haunt of the dead, at it they went--a mad spurt across to Ko[u]ndo's house. Tomobei was the more active. He turned to watch the priest tripping over hillocks in the grass, knocking into gravestones hidden by the darkness. So near home, courage was returning. He burst into laughter at sight of Myo[u]zen madly hammering a battered old stone lantern of the _yukimido[u]ro_ style. The broad-brimmed hat-like object he belaboured as something naturally or unnaturally possessed of life, all the while giving utterance to anything but priestly language. Tomobei ventured back to his rescue. Myo[u]zen was quite battered and bleeding as the two rushed into Kondo[u]'s house. The master was expecting them; but he threw up his hands as they appeared in the room. "Osho[u] Sama! Tomobei! What are you about! Why rush into the room, clogs still on the feet? Deign to withdraw. The _tatami_ are stained and streaked with mud.... Water for the feet of the Osho[u] Sama! Tomobei, are you mad? Out with you: bring water to clean up this mess." In confusion the priest withdrew. His apologies were profuse as he reappeared--"Alas! Terrible the loss, and in such dreadful manner. Kondo[u] Dono, Okusama, part at least of this grief Myo[u]zen would take on himself. Great is the sorrow at this end of one just beginning life." The wife received the condolence of the priest with a burst of weeping. Then she turned fiercely on the husband--"It is all the fault of Rokuro[u]bei. He was _nako[u]do_ for O'Iwa San in the marriage with Iémon. Turning against her, he took O'Hana into the house. Did she not spend her time in idling, and teaching the child the ways of her questionable life--'how to please men,' forsooth?... Ah! Tama did have pretty ways. Though but of seven years, she danced, and sang, and postured as would a girl double her age. Now thus cruelly she has perished." Her mind, reverted to the child, again took a turn. "The plot against O'Iwa--with Ito[u] Kwaiba, Iémon, Cho[u]zaémon--here is found the source of this calamity. O'Iwa in dying has cursed all involved. Now 'tis the turn of Kondo[u] and his unfortunate wife." She ended in another outburst of tears, her head on the mats at the feet of the priest. Rokuro[u]bei was tearing up and down the room, gesticulating and almost shouting--"Yes! 'Tis she! 'Tis she! The hateful O'Iwa strikes the father through the child. Ah! It was a cowardly act to visit such a frightful ending on one budding into life. O'Iwa seeks revenge. O'Iwa is abroad; and yet this Kondo[u] cannot meet with her." Myo[u]zen was almost deafened with his cries and noisy earnestness. Truly to bring peace into this household, with division reigning between husband and wife smitten with fear of the supernatural, would be no easy matter. His priestly experience taught him the safest way to bring about his object. "'Tis true; 'tis true. But loud cries avail nothing. The aid of the Buddha for the deceased is to be sought." Apologetically he showed something of his condition to the wife. At once she rose. Outergarments were removed. Muddied undergarments were renewed. Myo[u]zen went into the mortuary chamber. The little "Jewel" was laid out as in sleep. The wounded chest, the torn throat, were concealed by garments and a scarf-like bandage adjusted by a mother's sad and tender care. The incense sticks lay in clay saucers near the couch. "Oh, the wonderful Law! The _sutra_ of the Lotus! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]!" He looked long at the little silent figure. His eyes were full of tears as he turned and took the hands of the weeping mother who had followed him into the room. Then for long he spoke in consoling tones. She was somewhat quieted when they returned. Kondo[u] Rokuo[u]bei was still moving restlessly about the room. Now he was here, now there; from the death room he returned to the company; from them he passed to the kitchen. The wife thought of the friend and priest. "Tomobei, go to the store-room and bring wine." Myo[u]zen was a curious mixture. His weak spot was touched--"Deign it, honoured lady, for all. Let the occasion be made seemly, but more cheerful. Cause not sorrow to the dead by an unmeasured grief. This does but pain the Spirit in its forced communion with the living. Death perchance is not the misfortune of subsequent existence in this world, but a passage to the paradise of Amida." He spoke unctuously; as one full informed and longing for its trial. His homily had no effect in moving Tomobei, who was flatly unwilling to perform the service ordered. "The wine...," broke in Kondo[u] harshly.--"The go-down is at the end of the lot. The hour is very late, and the storm ... and other things ... it rages fiercely. This Tomobei...."--"Shut up!" roared his master, with easily roused anger. The maid O'Kiku timidly interposed--"There is a supply in the kitchen. This Kiku early brought it there, anticipating the need. Indeed the storm is terrible. One gets wet to the bone in traversing the yard." The wife caught the last words--"Aye! Wet and chilled the lost child spirit wanders, ringing its bell and vainly seeking aid and shelter; no aid at hand but that of the heartless hag in the River of Souls."[31] At the thought of the little O'Tama in cold and storm she broke down. Crying bitterly, she crept from the room and laid down beside the bier. The wine was served. Myo[u]zen drank. Then he drank again. His potations gave him confidence--for more drink--and recalled him to his functions. "Let us all pray. Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Wonderful the Law! Wonderful the _sutra_ of the Lotus, explanatory of the Law by which mankind are saved, to enter the paradise of Amida. Be sure the wanderings of O'Tama will be short. Scanty is the power of the Shozuka no Baba. Soon shall the child sit upon a lotus. Early shall be her entrance into Nirvana. Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]!... Honoured master, let all join in. Command the servants to join in the recital of the Daimoku." Kondo[u] waved a hand at Tomobei and O'Kiku, in assent and command. Vigorous were the tones of all in the responses. Myo[u]zen drank again. He pressed the wine on the others; drinking in turn as they agreed. The night was passing. It was the eighth hour (1-3 A.M.). Said he--"Don't get drowsy. By every means avoid it. Now! A vigorous prayer." He raised his hand--"Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]!" But the responses were flagging. Said Myo[u]zen--"This will never do; at this hour of the night." He drank again--to find that the supply had come to an end. Kondo[u] was nodding. Tomobei, if awake, was deaf to words. Myo[u]zen rose himself to fetch a new supply. Kondo[u] pricked up his ears. The temple bells were booming the hour watch in solemn unison. The rain splashed and pattered on the _amado_. A rustling, swishing sound was heard, close by, in the next room. Now it was as if a hand was passing along the screen. He sprang up, drawn sword in hand. His eyes were riveted on the _sho[u]ji_, anticipating an appearance. Then he laid a violent hand on the interposing obstacle and threw it back. A tall figure robed in black, with broad flat face and bulging brow, puffed eyelids in which were sunken little dots in place of eyes, hair in wild disorder framing the dead white face, stood before him. "O'Iwa! O'Iwa!" The lamp was knocked over, but not before he dealt the one fierce upward blow. Madly he sprang on the apparition and slashed away in the dark. "Kiya!" The cry rang loud. Kondo[u] danced with joy, calling loudly for lights. "O'Iwa! O'Iwa! Kondo[u] has slain the O'Baké, the enemy of his child! Rejoice with Kondo[u]! The vendetta is accomplished!" In the darkness and confusion a groan was heard; then another, still fainter; then there was silence. Tomobei appeared with a light. He leaned over the long black robed body; to raise an alarmed face to his joyful master. "At what does the Danna Sama rejoice? What has he done? 'Tis Myo[u]zen Sama, the Osho[u] Sama, who lies cut down. Dreadful has been the mistake of the Danna Sama. This is like to cost the House dear."--"Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]! Namu Myo[u]ho[u] Renge Kyo[u]!" The sword had slipped from Kondo[u]'s hand, and in genuine grief he knelt beside the body of the unfortunate priest, seeking for some sign of life. Alas! Myo[u]zen had almost been cut in two by the upward sweep of the sword. From liver to pap was one gaping wound. He lay in the pool of almost all the blood in his body. Gathered around the corpse the four people eyed each other with terror. Don--don--don, don, don, don. They sprang up in a huddled mass. The sound was at their very shoulders. "Some one knocks at the back door," said Tomobei. "Go open it," commanded Kondo[u]. Tomobei flatly refused, and without respect, nay with insolence. Kondo[u] picked up and weighed in his hand the bloody sword. Why mingle vile blood with good? Instead of cutting the man down he went himself and opened the half door at the top. A woman, dripping with water, her hair in wild disorder, her face white as chalk, stood outside in the storm. Kondo[u] gave an exclamation of surprise--"O'Kamé of Tamiya! How comes O'Kamé here? It was said that Yoémon San had shut her up, as one gone mad." The woman smirked with satisfied air--"Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei is seer as well as murderer. This Kamé was bound and imprisoned; nay, almost divorced. Myo[u]zen, just dead at Kondo[u]'s hands, to-morrow was to pronounce the divorce. For so much, thanks to Kondo[u] Dono. But O'Tama has died. Kamé would condole with Kondo[u] San; burn a stick of incense for O'Tama. Condescend to grant entrance." Said Rokuro[u]bei abruptly--"How knows O'Kamé of the death of Myo[u]zen; who told her of the fate of O'Tama?" She laughed wildly--"Who? O'Iwa; O'Iwa is the friend of Kamé. It was she who loosed the bonds. 'O'Tama of Kondo[u]'s house is dead. O'Kamé should condole with the wife, the friend of this Iwa. Get you hence, for Kondo[u] has murdered the priest.' ... So here we are; O'Iwa accompanies Kamé. Here she is." She waved a hand into the storm and darkness. "Deign to give passage to the chamber where lies O'Tama. O'Iwa and Kamé would burn incense to the darling's memory, to the little Jewel." With a roar Kondo[u] seized the breast of her robe--"Vile old trot, off with you!" He gave her a violent push which sent her on her buttocks. The woman remained seated in the mud, laughing noisily. She held out two skinny arms to him. With a slam he shut the door. He knelt by the priest's body, truly grieved--"Ah! O'Iwa is abroad. How has this mad woman knowledge of this deed? What was the offence of Myo[u]zen thus to deserve the hatred of Tamiya O'Iwa?" O'Kamé had seen the priest enter, had stood in the wet listening to the wild talk of Kondo[u], had seen the bloody sword in his hand. Her mad brain had put riot and death together. The talk as to O'Tama she had overheard from her closet. Kondo[u] thought of neither explanation. He was at odds with Akiyama, and had sent no message to his house. As he speculated and thought how best to compound matters with the temple, now grieved at the rash blow fallen on a friend, now aghast at the certain and heavy indemnification which would be exacted by the enraged clerics, an uproar arose outside. There were wild cries and a scream of pain. Then came a loud triumphant shout--"Heads out! Heads out! O'Iwa is slain! This Akiyama has killed the O'Baké. The incubus of the ward is lifted. Help!" Kondo[u] sprang up and out of the house. Were the words true? Had another succeeded where he had failed? His lantern, the lanterns of many others, threw light on the place where Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon bravely stood ward over the prostrate body of the apparition. Returning late from Shitamachi he had entered the ward with shrinking terror. As he skulked along, with eyes on every dark corner, the figure of a woman was seen close by the eaves of the house of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei. As he approached she came forward laughing wildly the while. The light of his lantern fell on the ghastly white face, the disordered hair. In a spasm of fright he dropped the lantern and delivered his blow in drawing the sword. The cut was almost identical with the one delivered to Myo[u]zen the priest. The men there gathered looked into each other's faces, then at the body of O'Kamé lying in their midst. The crowd parted, and Tamiya Yoémon appeared. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei and Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon stood by with bloody swords, their own skins without a scratch. They were self-accused. The upshot of the affair was ruin for all. Matters in Yotsuya were coming to the official ears. Yoémon was forced to make charges against Akiyama; the more willingly as therein lay a chance to recoup his own losses through the wife he intended to divorce on the morrow. Kondo[u] easily cleared his skirts of this offence, but was involved with the irate temple priests. All were entangled in the heavy costs of the law of those days. Of these three men something is to be said later. CHAPTER XX KIBEI DONO Kibei was in great straits, financial and domestic. The death of Kwaiba had brought him anything but freedom. In Nippon the headship of a House is much more than the simple heirship of our western law. Relieved of his obligation in office the old man's hands were wide open to shower benefice or caprice on the most worthless. Endorsement for cash and goods to Natsumé, Imaizumi, and Kamimura; donations to the temples of Teramachi and the Yotsuyazaka; favours in every direction except that of Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, in the pursuit of whom Kwaiba found much amusement; all these items added to the very free living in his household had pledged deeply the ample revenue of two hundred and thirty _tawara_, and would have upheld the _samurai_ trait of not knowing the value of money--if Kwaiba had been of that kind. Between Kwaiba and Kibei, the wild debauchery of the last year had brought the House to the verge of ruin. Kibei was aghast. Long since he had become deeply involved with the Kashiku Tamagiku of the Yamadaya in Edomachi Itcho[u]me of the Yoshiwara. The ugly fellow was madly in love with the beauty. On her he had poured out the treasures of the Ito[u] House during the six months which preceded the illness of Kwaiba. During his prolonged absence from her the letters of the Kashiku had inundated the writing table of Kibei. Had he deserted her? Was all affection gone? Where now were the promises of ransom, the blood-sealed vow to become husband and wife, to assume the relation which endures for two worlds? Kibei sullenly read these lines; cursing Kwaiba and cursing himself. Ransom! With strict living for the next five years _he_ might set matters straight and free the Tayu; and any day _she_ might be bought by some rich country _samurai_ or _go[u]shi_ (gentleman farmer), or be carried off to ornament the _besso[u]_ of some _hatamoto_. Kibei wiped the bitter saliva from his lips.[32] The domestic difficulties were accompaniment to these more important matters. In the large mansion Kibei was now alone. The tenth day had witnessed the flight of the last of the servants. The women had departed with the funeral, through fear, sacrificing wages and even such clothing as could not surreptitiously be removed. What woman--or man--could remain in a house which was the nightly scene of such fearful sounds of combat. Shrieks, wails, groans, came from the quarters once occupied by the dead Kwaiba. As to this there was no difference of opinion. The more venturesome had been favoured with actual sight of the scenes enacted. They had seen the old man as he was in death, pursued from room to room by two frightful hags, as gaunt, blear, sightless as himself. Dreadful were the cries of the dead man as the harpies fastened upon him, descending from above like two huge bats. These scenes took place usually at the eighth hour (1 A.M.), not to cease until dawn. As for the men servants, they took their leave in the days following, asking formal dismissal (_itoma_) with recommendation to another House. They scented the approaching ruin of their present employer. One day Kakusuké presented himself. Kibei looked up. He understood at once that the man had come in his turn to take leave. Kakusuké alone had remained with him. He was _chu[u]gen_, stable boy, cook, maid; and did the work of all four without complaint. The change in his master was too marked. Kibei, in his turn, had become irritable, timorous as a girl, subject to outbreaks of almost insane rage. To Kakusuké the young man seemed to have lost all nerve. Kakusuké wanted to serve a man. As long as the Wakadono gave promise of redemption, of rising above his difficulties and emerging into a splendid career in which Kakusuké could take pride, the _chu[u]gen_ was ready to take the bitter with the sweet. To be maid servant and keeper of a man half mad had no attraction for this blunt-nerved fellow. He spoke plainly--"The Wakadono should deign to throw up the whole connection. Under the present conditions the ruin of the House is unavoidable. Condescend to return to the original House in Honjo[u] Yokogawa. This course will be best. At least the Wakadono secures his own salvation. This is the advice of Kakusuké, grown old in experience of service in a _samurai_ household. In naught else is there hope. As to himself, would the Wakadono condescend to grant dismissal." Long had been the intimacy between Ito[u] Kwaiba and Inagaki Sho[u]gen. Kakusuké, the messenger between the two Houses, had watched this Fukutaro[u] (Kibei) grow to manhood, had noted his prowess. It was with delight he had carried the documents which were to bring this new and vigorous blood into the home of his decadent master. This was the result. "A pest on these witches--and their craft!" Kibei heard him out with growing anger. As the man's words gathered vigour and plain spokenness his hand wandered to his sword. He had a mind to cut him down then and there for his freedom of speech. More than half induced to recognize the truth of the indictment his better feeling halted him. With harsh and sardonic tone he gave unbelieving thanks for the implied reproof of the _chu[u]gen_. The service of Kakusuké had been faithful beyond measure. It should have its proper reward. If others had chosen to depart as do those who run away, they had shown ignorance of this Kibei. From a drawer of the desk he took out a letter already prepared, a roll containing wages. He pushed the _zen_ toward Kakusuké. This readiness, as if foreseen, hit the man hard. Respectfully he pressed the letter to his forehead, bowing with extended hands on the _tatami_; the money he did not touch. Finally he raised a timid questioning glance to his one-time master. Said Kibei jeeringly--"Kakusuké has given his advice. Is it part of his long experience that a servant should question the wages placed under his nose? Off with you! This Kibei would be alone; most willingly so." At the peremptory threatening gesture Kakusuké no longer hesitated. He had no inclination to be a victim of one of the mad outbreaks of the young man. Taking the roll humbly he backed out of the room. His steps were heard a few minutes later passing the entrance. Then the outer gate shut to with a clang. For a long watch Kibei sat in meditation. He was as one who sleeps. Then he rose with decision. "'Tis the last chance. Kakusuké is right. The matter is to be brought to an end." Dressing for the street he left the house. He opened the big gate; then went to the stable, and saddled and bridled his horse. He led it outside, closed the gate, and mounting he rode forth, to go to Honjo[u] Yokogawa and the _yashiki_ of his father, Inagaki Sho[u]gen. Coming unaccompanied he was received with surprise and some discomfiture, as he was quick to note. He was very quick to note things in these days. Prostrating himself before his mother--"Kibei presents himself. Honoured mother, deign to pardon the intrusion. Fukutaro[u] would solicit her pity and influence." The lady looked at him with amazement. "Fukutaro[u]! What then of Kibei? Is some jest deigned at the mother's expense? It is in very bad taste.... But the face of Kibei implies no jest. Pray put the matter plainly. Why does her son come in petition to the mother?" Began Kibei--"The matter is most serious...." He went into the full details; from the time of his entrance into the Ito[u] House, through the course of dissipation and illness of Kwaiba, down to the present ruined state of affairs. "All this is due to the curse of O'Iwa San, to this plot in which Kibei foolishly engaged." Of this he now fully felt the force. The events of the past weeks had wrecked him in mind and body. One disaster after another, in house and ward, had been visited on Kibei. The bitterness and dislike of the people toward Kwaiba was visited on his representative, who was held responsible. In his great mansion he lived alone. No servant would enter it to attend to his wants. Was he to cook and be valet for himself--and pose as the Kumi-gashira, the great chief of the ward! The position was an impossible one. Deign to use a mother's influence with Inagaki Dono. "Condescend to secure permission for the return of this Kibei to his original House, for the cancellation of the adoption." The wife of Sho[u]gen sat frightened; at the tale, and at this radical way of finding an exit from the situation. The mother's heart was full of pity for the distracted son, whose haggard looks showed the strain of the past weeks. Besides she was a woman, and as such fully believed in and feared the curse of this dead O'Iwa, one who had died without funeral rites or prayer. "Fortunately the honoured father now is on the night watch at the castle. He is at home, drinking his wine. His humour is excellent. Wait but a moment." Leaving Kibei she went to the room of Sho[u]gen's light indulgence. The severe and conscientious nobleman was bending under the genial influence of the _saké_. "Kibei? He comes in good season. The heir of Kwaiba Inkyo[u] has not favoured his real father of late. Ah! The boy was well placed. Kwaiba soon made way for him; and none too willingly, one can believe." He chuckled. Then noting his wife's troubled looks. "But there is something to tell."--"So indeed; none too pleasant." She went into the story Kibei had told her. "His fear of O'Iwa San is deadly. The House is ruined, with no profit in the connection. Deign to permit the cancellation of the adoption, his return to the House of his true parent." She stopped before the stern astonished look of the husband. Said he harshly--"Let him come up. Sho[u]gen answers Kibei Dono in person.... Heigh! Up here with you! For Ito[u] Dono there is wine...." Kibei entered joyfully at his father's call. Success was in his hands. Once more he was to marshal his father's retainers and accompany him to the castle; once more be the habitué of the fencing rooms. "Honoured father, fear enters: for long this Kibei has not ventured into your presence."--"And need not for long again," thundered the old man. "What stuff is this for the ears of Sho[u]gen? Kibei would sever his connection with the Ito[u] House. Kibei is afraid of a ghost! He fears a girl! A _samurai_ wearing two swords shrinks from an encounter with a woman! Has Sho[u]gen no obligation toward his old friend Kwaiba? In more serious matters and in life Sho[u]gen would share Kwaiba's lot. Back with you to the house in Yotsuya! If this matter become known, both Kibei and Sho[u]gen will be the laughing stocks of Edo. At least keep such fears to yourself. Off with you! Sho[u]gen had wine for Ito[u] Dono. For the fellow who would call himself--Fukutaro[u], he has none." With a kick he sent rolling the _zen_ (table) with its burden of bottles and heating apparatus. In a rage he left the room. Kibei's face was white as he raised it from the _tatami_. "Father has no experience of ghosts; he speaks at random and in anger. Terrible is the actuality." Said the mother, slowly and painfully--"He is the father; he is to be obeyed." Kibei was sitting upright. He nodded grave assent. Then suddenly he prostrated himself ceremoniously before the _sho[u]ji_ through which Sho[u]gen had disappeared. He repeated the salutation before his mother. Then he rose--"Ito[u] Kibei takes leave. May good health and fortune visit those of this House." At his exit the mother rejoiced. Severe had been the father's words, but they had brought the boy to reason. She wept and trembled at the reproof. Men had best knowledge of such affairs. She would pray at Reiganji, and have memorial service held for the peace of this O'Iwa in the next world. Then the curse would not rest upon her son. On his appearance at the house entrance an _ashigaru_ (foot soldier) led up the horse. Kibei waved him away--"For the present keep the animal in charge. With matters to attend to close at hand Kibei will use other conveyance." The man took the animal away. Leaving the gate of the _yashiki_ Kibei walked the short distance to the Ho[u]onji bridge. Here was a _kago_ (litter) stand. "To Yamadaya in Yoshiwara." As the _kago_ men went off at a trot--"Kibei has played and lost. How does the account yonder stand? Seventy _ryo[u]_ owed at the Matsuminatoya. For the rest, this Kibei can claim a night's attendance from the _kashiku_. If affection would not grant it, the huge sums bestowed in the past have a claim upon her. Then to end matters and die like a _samurai_. To-morrow Kibei cuts belly." It was the debt which sent him direct to the Yamadaya, and not first to the tea house. Sitting over the wine all effort of the Kashiku to enliven him failed. Noting her discomfiture he smiled gloomily. Then in explanation--"The thoughts of Kibei go astray. The House is ruined. Ransom is impossible. This is the last meeting. To-morrow Kibei cuts belly, and dies like a _samurai_." At first the girl thought he was joking. Then noting the wild look of despair in his eyes, she was frightened. Partly in disbelief; partly seeking to postpone this desperate resolve, to turn his thoughts and gain time for reflection; partly in that sentimental mood which at times affects this class of women--"Is Kibei truly ruined? Lamentable the fate of Tamagiku. Why not join him in death? But the idea is too new. Deign to postpone the execution for a space. To-night shall be a night of pleasure with the Kashiku Tamagiku. With the morrow's darkness she dies with Kibei. Hand in hand they will wander the paths of Amida's paradise." She came close to him in service of the wine; put her arms about him, and drew him to her bosom; in every way cajoled and sought to comfort him, and corrupt his purpose. Consent was easy. The night was passed in love and wine. In the morning he left her. Kibei was making his final preparations; writing directions which would benefit as far as possible the House in Honjo[u] at the expense of that in Yotsuya. In the Yoshiwara a very different scene was taking place. With his departure the Kashiku sprang up. Hastily throwing a robe around her person she sought the room of the _yarité_--the bawd of the house. "The Kashiku! At this hour--what has happened?"--"Something of importance. This night Tama dies with Kibei Dono. The compact is closed, hard and firm." The astonished bawd had been rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. The last words brought her full awake--"Is the Kashiku drunk with wine? Is she mad? Truly it would seem so. And the bail? What is to become of the unfortunate? True it is Toémon of Honjo[u]; and he has trouble enough already. He will never leave his prison." Tamagiku made a gesture of impatience--"This Tama has acted but to gain time. Can she have affection for such an ugly fellow? Was she to be the victim of some crazy outburst? Perhaps the day will bring better counsel; but the night's conversation does not augur it. His plans are most complete. The master must be seen. Deign to mediate; prevent the admittance of Kibei Dono as guest." O'Kayo the bawd nodded intelligence and assent. At once she sought the master of the house. "A dangerous guest," was his comment. "Send to the Matsuminatoya. They must be warned. We can look after ourselves." As an attendant of the tea house presented himself--"And the master, Teisuké San!"--"Is absent; this To[u]suké represents him. He has gone to Edo. Perhaps the house will deign to look at a new inmate. A true Tayu! The daughter of Akiyama San of Yotsuya sacrifices her caste. But sixteen years, she is a jewel. Less than a hundred _ryo[u]_ will buy her. He is in great difficulties." To[u]suké spoke with enthusiasm. The master of the Yamadaya answered promptly and with emphasis--"Accepted: let her be on hand in the course of the day. But To[u]suké, there is another matter. Kibei Dono no longer can be accepted as a guest." He went into details. To[u]suké drew a long breath. "A dangerous fellow! The Danna Sama never liked his presence. But he owes the house much money; seventy _ryo[u]_."--"That is your affair," coldly replied the master of the Yamadaya. "This house answers not for the accounts of the tea-house. Previous notice has been given. Kibei Dono cannot be received as guest."--"That is not to be denied. He is most undesirable. But the seventy _ryo[u]_! And the week's settlement to make with this house?" The Yamadaya had an idea--"It rarely passes a hundred _ryo[u]_.... Five years is accepted? Then take thirty _ryo[u]_ and deliver this girl to the Yamadaya.... A true Tayu? If so the debt of Kibei finds payment." To[u]suké agreed with joy. At night the _kago_ man set Kibei down before the Matsuminatoya. Teisuké, the _teishu[u]_ (host), regarded his arrival with mixed feelings. His coming meant something. Giving up his two swords, and once seated, Kibei's first act was to give thanks for past services. Calling for his account he produced the seventy _ryo[u]_ in its settlement. Prompt and profound were the humble thanks of the house for this unexpected liquidation. Kibei had secured the money by the transfer of obligations of Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon to the usurer Suzuki Sanjuro[u]. Three hundred and fifty _ryo[u]_ immediately due against seventy _ryo[u]_ in cash satisfied even this shark. Teisuké was impressed. How deny such a guest? He would get rid of him, and profit both ways. Yamadaya now would promptly pay the additional seventy _ryo[u]_ due on the girl with whom they were so delighted. He had paid fifty _ryo[u]_ for her. At Kibei's call his order was prompt. "To[u]suké, accompany Kibei Dono to the Yamadaya." Kibei's calm and collected manner reassured him. This man did not contemplate suicide. With the appearance of To[u]suké and Kibei at the Yamadaya there was a flutter. The Banto[u] Matsuzo respectfully came forward. As Kibei came up to the _ro[u]ka_ and shook off his _geta_ he interposed. "Deign to wait, Kibei Dono. Matters have changed since morning. The Kashiku is very ill. She can see no one. Condescend to come another time. For one ill in body pleasure is no pastime. Pray consider; grant excuse for this one occasion." Kibei was surprised. He had left her perfectly well in the morning. Something in the _banto[u]'s_ face, in the massed position of the men standing by, apprised him of the truth. He was enraged at the lie and the insult. "Ill? That is very strange, when so well at morning. But it is immaterial. Kibei goes to the room."--"Impossible," was the firm reply of the _banto[u]_. "The Kashiku lies isolated from all. It is the order of the physician. Even those in the rooms around her have been ordered out. Pray forbear." But Kibei was obstinate--"Then a glass of wine at her bedside; Kibei has matters to impart." The _banto[u]_ stuck to his post--"Wine! Amid the smell of drugs, the unseemly vessels of the sick room! Such could not be permitted." Kibei stretched out an arm. The _banto[u]_ went flying a dozen feet. Kibei made a leap toward the stairway. But the bawd O'Kayo interposed her vinegary presence. She was brave; having the support of great numbers, of the whole household. "What rudeness! How inconsiderate your way of acting! You behave in very bad taste; with the roughness of an _ashigaru_ (foot soldier). The Yamadaya does not entertain such miserable scamps. The Tayu is ill. This Kayo says it. Get you hence--to some coolie house. Return the day before yesterday."[33] Kibei gave a yell--"Yai! You old bitch! The whole affair is plain to Kibei. Out of money, his presence is no longer desired. Ah! Kibei will have vengeance." Without arms, before the sullen determination of these plebeians, he felt his helplessness. An unseemly brawl, in which he would be worsted, must not be entered on. He must leave. In a towering rage he strode back to the tea-house. To[u]suké tried to keep pace with him. Said Teisuké in feigned astonishment--"Kibei Dono! What has happened?" Kibei did but stutter and fume. The _teishu[u]_ turned to To[u]suké. This latter made answer for his charge--"At the Yamadaya they were very rude. Admittance was refused to Kibei Dono. The bawd O'Kayo told him to come back day before yesterday!"--"Very rude indeed! Were such things said? It is unpardonable. An explanation must be had with the house. Danna Sama, for to-night deign to leave this matter to Teisuké. Ample satisfaction shall be had for the outrage." Teisuké threw up his hands as with uncontrollable anger. Kibei paid no attention, but demanded his swords. Outwardly he had regained his self-control. The maid O'Moto looked with diffidence at her mistress. The woman was accustomed to such scenes. At her sign the girl brought the weapons, carefully wrapped up. She placed them before Kibei. Unrolling the cover he put them on. With scanty salutation he strode off. Teisuké watched him--"It would be wise for the Yamadaya to close early to-night, to take in their lanterns; nay, even to board up the front and take refuge in the store-house." To[u]suké was in no hurry to face Matsuzo, the _banto[u]_ of Yamadaya. Continued the easy old fellow--"Well, 'tis their affair. They are as good judges as Teisuké; and they could have been more civil in refusal. At all events the house has seventy _ryo[u]_, and Kibei Dono is sober. He will cut belly before dawn; and perhaps nothing will happen hereabouts." The old pimp went off to his inner room; to sit down before his wine about the same time that Kibei did the same in a cook shop opposite the great gate of Yoshiwara. Here he idled, barely touched his drink, and passed the time in bantering the maid servant. He was in a riotous humour. He would take her to wife--and sell her the next morning. "As they do yonder." But O'Kiyo was not of that kind. "There is a lover?"--"Of course!" In admitting it she blushed, somewhat offended at hint of suspicion that such was lacking. Jibed Kibei--"He will do the same. Better to be the wife of a _samurai_; even for an hour." In the end he frightened the girl a good deal, so boisterous was he. She had gone out to buy him a deep hat. With relief she saw him put it on and set forth into the darkness and the rain. The eighth hour (1 A.M.) was nearly ready to strike. The pleasure quarter was silent. Passersby were few. The occasional shuffling sound of _zo[u]ri_ (sandals) could be heard behind the closed _amado_. Kibei smiled cynically as he recognized this mark of revolting passage from one room to another. In doubt he stood before the gate of the Yamadaya. How break in and kill them all? If Kibei had his way the Kashiku would keep her word. Just then a noise of voices was heard within, the falling of the bar. Several belated guests came forth. They were in the charge of O'Moto, the maid of the Matsuminatoya. Affectionate were the leave-takings with the quondam wives. "Condescend an early visit. This Haya lives but in the thought of Mosuké."--"Bunzaémon San, be faithful to this Hana. In his absence she is always ill. She receives no one." At this there was a roar of laughter from the others of the company. Bunzaémon answered with reproaches. Kibei followed behind. This fellow was somewhat lamed. He lagged behind. Kibei pulled his sleeve. Bunzaémon, the cit, turned in surprise and fear at sight of the _samurai_ in his deep hat. Said Kibei--"Don't be afraid. Bunzaémon San has forgotten pipe, or purse, or something. He must go back to the Yamadaya." At the fellow's groping in his garments and failure to understand he grew impatient. "A friend lies at the Yamadaya. It is late, and they will not open at an unknown voice. Entrance somehow must be had. Deign to lend your aid." At last the fellow comprehended--"O'Moto San! A moment: my pipe...."--"Oya! The Danna Sama has forgotten his pipe?" The girl went back the short distance to the gate. She knocked and called. With sleepy tones the voice of Matsuzo the _banto[u]_ was heard. The bar fell. The girl turned to look down the street toward her guests. She looked right into the face of Kibei. Dropping her lantern, with a smothered scream she fled. Matsu, the _banto[u]_, looked with horror at the man before him. As Kibei threw off his hat he turned to flee. Tripping, he fell. Kibei drew him back by the leg. A blow cut him through the shoulder. As he rose staggering a second vicious side swing sent the severed head to the ground. The gate-man took the chance. Fleeing to the recesses of the kitchen, he swarmed up a post and hid himself among the rafters of the roof, amid the darkness of their shadows. Kibei turned back and carefully barred the gate. With the key at the girdle of Matsuzo he locked the bar chain. All was now ready for his visitation and search. On the floor above they had a drunken guest in hand, trying to get him to depart. A _banto[u]_ and several women formed the committee of expulsion. "Ah! Money gone, one's welcome is quickly worn out in this hell. But Jusuké does not budge. He fears not the whole pack of foxes.... Thanks: deep the obligation of this Jusuké, extending to the next life." A woman had picked up and restored his purse. "The bill is paid? An early start To[u]kaido[u] way? Ah, true! Jusuké had forgotten." He was now all compliments and thanks. Then in a rage--"Oh! The huzzy! What is Jusuké's purse worth with nothing in it? Who has robbed the purse of Jusuké?" He was madly fumbling his tobacco pouch. A woman put his hand on the missing object in the folds of his girdle. He was mollified. As they moved to the head of the stairs--"Take care! Jusuké San, don't fall! Banto[u] San, deign to aid the guest." Refusing all help the man lurched half way down the flight. Then he stopped, staring and looking before him. At the foot stood Kibei, bloody sword in hand. "Down with this Jusuké? But Jusuké cannot down. A fool blocks the way.... Fool, you block the way of Jusuké."--"Out of the road, drunkard!" The words of Kibei came between his teeth, half growl, half snarl. The man obstinately held his own. When Kibei would push past him--"Beast!" He struck the _samurai_. Kibei whirled the sword. The head rolled to the bottom of the steps. The blood bathed Kibei from head to foot. His appearance was horrible. The women fled in all directions. The _banto[u]_ covered their retreat. "Kibei Dono! Pray be reasonable. Control yourself!" Kibei made a step toward the women's rooms. The _banto[u]_ was dreadfully frightened, yet bravely he interposed to save them. He shouted for aid; below and to the neighbours. Kibei reached him. A blow and he fell severed. Kibei gave a howl of joy. O'Kayo the bawd came out to ascertain the cause of the brawl. She turned livid with fear on recognizing Kibei. They were standing together in the sort of entresol or room at the head of the stairway. Only a large brazier separated Kibei from his vengeance. Its massiveness of three or four feet breadth baffled him. The woman was fleeing for life. As he strove to get within striking distance fear gave her wings. From one side to another she leaped and dodged. Kibei was hampered. He had to cut her off from stair and _ro[u]ka_. As he hesitated she discharged the iron kettle at his head. One implement followed another. In hurling the iron tripod ashes entered her eyes. At once Kibei leaped to close quarters. The first sword blow she dodged. As Kibei recovered she sprang by him and over the _hibachi_, seeking the safety of the stairs now open to her. Her night-dress caught on the handle of the brazier and brought her to the ground. Next moment she was severed from shoulder to midriff. Methodically Kibei began his examination of the rooms. To most of the inmates this uproar was a mere quarrel in the house, the cause of which they neither knew nor cared to know. The first search was at the room of the Kashiku, close to that of O'Kayo the bawd. Her reception room was dark. Here the Kashiku's bed usually was prepared. The inner room, her dressing room, showed the dim light of an _andon_. Noting her absence from the usual place a hasty stride brought him to the _sho[u]ji_. As he violently shoved them apart a man rose from the bed in the room. A mere glance showed that this was no lover. As Kibei with drawn sword stood over him, he squatted on his hams, crouching and begging for life. To Kibei's astonishment he called him by name--"Deign, honoured Sir, to spare this Cho[u]bei. Be assured the Kashiku is not in this place. She lies to-night with the Danna of the house. Deign to seek her in his company." He pointed vaguely as he spoke, to give direction. Kibei laughed ferociously. From this source these directions were atrocious. He lowered the weapon--"Cho[u]bei! At this place and time! Well met, good Sir. Kibei is doubly grateful for what he has learned. Cho[u]bei and Kibei are fellows in fortune. Willingly Kibei leaves him to O'Iwa San and her mercies." His attentive gaze never wandered from the face of the one-time pimp. With a gesture of horror he rushed from the room. In fright Cho[u]bei rolled his head up in the coverlet, to keep out the vision evoked. He continued his search--"Is it my little black fellow?" Such the greeting of one woman aroused from sleep. Trembling she rose at sight of Kibei. Harshly told to lie down, she gladly obeyed. Her quivering limbs already were nearly yielding as he spoke. In but one place did he encounter opposition. Pushing open the _sho[u]ji_ of the merest closet of a room he came upon a girl whose face somehow was familiar. She was a mere slip of a creature to be called a woman. The undeveloped hips, the yet immature bosom, aroused his astonishment at finding her in such a place as inmate; that is, until the pure oval and beauty of the face caught his glance. As he entered she sprang up in alarm. Just roused from sleep she hardly knew where she was--"Father! Father! A man! A man is in the room! Help!" Kibei pushed her back on the bed. With his bloody sword he rolled over the bed-clothes. Then he made a move to get at the closet behind. Perhaps mistaking his action the girl sprang upon him. Kibei was startled at her mad energy. When he thrust her down she seized his hand in her teeth, sinking them deep into it. Pain and impatience--after all he was pressed for time--overcame him. Unable otherwise to shake her off he thrust the point of the sword into her throat and gave a vigorous downward push. Coughing up great clouts of blood, the girl sank back, dying on the _futon_. As he left the room remembrance came to Kibei's mind. He had seen her in Yotsuya. More than once O'Tsuru had served him tea in the house of her father, Cho[u]zaémon. How came she in this vile den? He took a step back to aid her if he could. She was stone dead. The Tayu Nishikiyama[34] now knew the cause of the disturbance. To the frightened page (_kamuro_) who came running to her--"Be quiet child. This is no time to lose self-control. Aid me in preparation." She dressed herself with the greatest care; "all in white, as befitted a lady in attendance on a nobleman." Then she took down her _koto_ and struck the opening bars of an old and famous song--the "Jinmujo[u]" (Inexhaustible Happiness)--said to have been sung by the famous Shizuka Go[u]zen when she danced the Ho[u]raku, or sacred dance, before the Sho[u]gun Yoritomo at Kamakura Hachimangu[u]. As Kibei turned into the corridor the voice of the Oiran caught his ear as she sang in accompaniment to the instrument. She was bending over the _koto_ as the _sho[u]ji_ were flung apart. Kibei, his hair hanging in disorder and framing a face ghastly white in contrast to the red streaks splashed over it and his garments, stood transfixed at the entrance. The Tayu looked up. With calm pose and courteous salute--"Kibei Dono, what manner of acting is this! Is not Kibei Dono the _bushi_? Truly madness has seized you, honoured Sir. This is Nishikiyama.... Deign to be seated. 'Tis Nishikiyama who serves Kibei Dono. What has been done cannot be undone. The last cup of wine in life is to be drained. Deign to accept it from these humble hands." Kibei continued gazing on her. The unhappy man, his mind was opened to a flood of light. The hurricane of passion was passing. Slowly he advanced into the room. "Truly the Go Tayu is right. Kibei has gone mad; mad indeed!" He sank down on the cushion before her. At a sign the page placed the stand containing the bottle of cold _saké_ before the lady. Skilfully the slender hands held it, gracefully poured it for the man doomed to death, taking this final cup served by her. Kibei raised it, drained it to the last drop. "The Kashiku: she is on this lower floor. Where lies she?" Nashikiyama noted the wild light returning to his eyes. She bowed her head before him--"The life of Nishikiyama is at the command of Kibei Dono. Her lips are sealed. Honoured Sir, how answer Kibei Dono's question?" For the moment he looked down. Then he rose--"Whose daughter can the Oiran be! Truly no lady in the land could show a higher courage, a finer courtesy. The final salute of this Kibei in life is to the Go Tayu." In grave ceremony it was performed. As he left the room the woman buried her face in her hands, weeping bitterly. In wonder and gratitude the frightened page extended her hands, her face hidden in the white robes of the Go Tayu. Kibei trod this lower corridor with sombre tread. He would cut belly at the garden pond. With some surprise he noted an _amado_ open at the end of the _ro[u]ka_. Voices were heard. Standing at the opening he saw lanterns. Some frenzied women had raised a ladder to the garden wall. They would thus escape, but the knife-like bamboo stakes prevented. Said a voice outside, and close to him--"The key to the gate: here it is." The Kashiku at a run passed by him. Kibei gave a shout. The frightened woman turned, recognized him, then sped on. In a few steps he was on her. The raised sword descended as she fell on her knees before him, in attempt to swerve its course. Through wrist and collar-bone, from neck to navel, the keen blade passed. Kibei threw the weapon aside. He leaned over her, his dagger drawn. Then he rose, holding by its tresses the head. For a moment he gazed on it. Slowly he walked to the pond in the centre of the garden. Carefully he washed the bloody trophy and placed it on the curbing. Confronting it he made reverential salutation. "Kibei keeps his promise to the Kashiku. With Tamagiku he treads the gloomy paths of Shideyama. Honoured lady--a moment and Kibei follows." Seated before the head reposing on the curb he opened his clothes. Thrusting the bloody dagger deep into his left side he slowly drew it across the belly; then made the upward cut. The body fell forward. Kibei indeed had kept his word. CHAPTER XXI MATTERS ECCLESIASTICAL Inagaki Sho[u]gen received the news at dawn, just as he was leaving the castle on completion of his night watch. The old knight smiled gravely, thanked the bearer of the message, and rewarded him with lavish hand. The _kago_ bearers jolted on. The news had reached the train, and _chu[u]gen_ and spearman exchanged whispers. On arrival at the Inagaki _yashiki_ his lordship made no motion to descend. The chamberlain raising the curtain gave a cry of horror. The old man lay stretched at the bottom of the little chamber. The dagger and the pool of blood told the tale. Sho[u]gen had followed the example of his son. He, too, now trod the paths of Shideyama. With laggard tottering step Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon entered his house. Regardless of wife and the cushion she offered, of the hardly repressed tear in her salutation, he cast himself full length on the mats. He buried his face in his arms. The groans which issued from the prostrate body frightened the woman. "The honoured return; has other misfortune fallen on the House?" A shrug of the shoulders, a shiver; then the man half rose and faced her. She was startled at his expression. He was facing the most dreadful, not mere thought of ruin to him and his--"Suzuki San is liar and thief. Fifty _ryo[u]_ in hand the promise was for abstention. Now he demands twenty _ryo[u]_ more--the interest on the debt in full." His voice rose to a harsh scream. He laughed despairingly. "Seventy-five _ryo[u]_ interest, for the loan of a month; and that loan forced on this Cho[u]zaémon by Ito[u] Kwaiba! Kibei has squandered everything. The loan comes back on the bail. If Suzuki holds the interest in hand, he allows the principal, three hundred and fifty _ryo[u]_, to stand for the month. Unless he has the lacking twenty-five _ryo[u]_ by the fourth hour (9 A.M.) to-morrow, complaint is laid at the office. As usual the interest is written into the face of the bond. The end is certain. This Cho[u]zaémon must cut belly or suffer degradation (_kaieki_)." He looked her over critically. The light of hope died out of his eyes--"Ah! If this Tsuyu could but be sold, the money would be in hand. But she is old and ugly. Pfaugh!..." How he hated her at this moment. Some half a dozen years older than Cho[u]zaémon the marriage had been arranged by the parents on truly financial principles. Mizoguchi Hampei was rich, and reputed stingy and saving. Just recently he had fallen into the Edogawa as he returned home late one night. Drunk and surfeited with the foul waters of the stream they had fished him out stone dead. Then it was learned that the old fellow of sixty odd years had several concubines, of the kind to eat into house and fortune. The reversion of the pension, of course, went to the House. In all these years Cho[u]zaémon had never received the dower of O'Tsuyu; nor dared to press the rich man for it, too generous to his daughter to quarrel with. The funds eagerly looked for by Cho[u]zaémon were found to be _non est inventus_. Probably, if alive, Mizoguchi would have argued that the dower had been paid in instalments. In his grave difficulties Akiyama could find no aid in his wife. She mourned her uselessness--"Willingly would Tsuyu come to the aid of House and husband, join her daughter in the bitter service. But past forty years.... 'Tis useless to think of it. Perhaps some expedient will come to mind." She brought out the arm rest and placed it near his side. Then she sat apart watching him. From time to time was heard the tap of her pipe as she knocked out the ashes. At last, overcome by sleep and seeing no sign of movement on the husband's part, she went off to bed, expecting that he would soon follow. She woke with a start--"Father! Father!" The voice of O'Tsuru rang sharply in her ears. Dazed she half rose and looked around her. The daylight streamed through the closed _amado_. She had been dreaming. With surprise she noted her husband's absence. Had he gone forth? The cries of a bean curd seller were heard without--"_To[u]fu!_ _To[u]fu!_ The best of _to[u]fu_!" The palatable, cheap, and nutritious food was a standard meal in this house as in many others of Nippon. Akiyama was most generous in indulgence of his passions for gambling, wine, and the women of Shinjuku; and his household with equal generosity were indulged in an economical regimen of _to[u]fu_. The wife rose to answer the call of the street huckster. Her surprise increased as she found every means of exit bolted and barred, as during the night. The open sliding window in the kitchen roof caught her eye. Surely he had not departed that way! As she opened the back door a murmur of voices, as in the roadway or close by, struck her ear. The _to[u]fu_ seller had his head turned away looking upward. At her call he turned quickly with apology--"Good day, honoured lady. A strange event! Ah! The honoured household still sleeps. All is silent.... Strange indeed! A man has hung himself on the big oak tree in the temple ground. Deign to look." He pointed to the big tree close by in the grounds of the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji.[35] Sure enough: forty feet from the ground dangled the body of a man. It swayed gently to and fro in harmony with the movement of the branches. A hand seemed to grasp the heart of Tsuyu. The branches of the tree reached far over their roof. The open _hikimado_! With feeble voice she said--"My husband; he is strangely absent. Deign, somebody, to climb up and find out whether this man is--of the ward." The startled _to[u]fu_ seller hastened to get aid. Several men entered the garden, quickly mounted to the roof, and thus reached the tree. Said the topmost fellow--"Ma! Ma! It is no pretty sight. He makes a hideous spectacle. The face is black as a rice boiler. The eyes stand out as if ready to burst. The tongue hangs out like a true guard (_hyo[u]tan_). The grin on the distended mouth is not nice to see. Ah! The rascal has used the merest cord to cut himself off. And he has nearly done so. The head is almost severed." He gave a shout--"Naruhodo! Why, its...." One close by silenced him. The men above looked down. They made signs to those below. The women gathered around O'Tsuyu as if to keep her from the sight. She broke away from them as the body was gently lowered to the ground. Her shrieks rang loud. They strove to detach her from the dead body of Cho[u]zaémon. The House ruined, daughter and husband taken out of her life in a single day; the blow was too crushing for a brain harassed by a life with this debauched worthless man. Her warders struggled with one gone clean daft. Years after men grown up from childhood in the ward looked with pity at the feeble ragged old mad beggar woman who crouched by the beautiful bronze dragon which ornaments the water basin of the Ten-o[u] Jinja. They would drop in her hand a copper "cash," and drive off with rebuke the children who taunted and annoyed her--as they had done years before. Thus were mother and daughter--the innocent--involved in the father's crime against the dread Lady of Tamiya. All these events created a tremendous stir in Yotsuya. Men disliked to go abroad at night. Women, to their great inconvenience were confined to the house. Two figures approaching each other in the darkness would be seen to hesitate and stop. "What's that--standing, slinking yonder by the wall? Alas! This Kinsaburo[u], this Genzaémon has evil fortune led him into the clutches of the O'Baké? O'Iwa! O'Iwa!" With that and mad cries they would fall on each other; at times only to exercise restraint after some injury had been done. Hence quarrels arose; feuds, started in all innocence, came into being. Women, as suspects, were chief sufferers. The local atmosphere was overcharged, nerve racked. And so from Honjo[u] to Nakacho[u] (Shinjuku), from Nakanocho[u] (Yoshiwara) to Shinagawa, even in the nearer post towns of Kawasaki, Tsurumi, and Kanagawa the talk was spreading of the strange happenings in Yotsuya of Edo town. Katada Tatéwaki, descendant of that Katada Samon who, as vassal of Gongen Samon (Iyeyasu) had had this Aoyama-Yotsuya district in fief, now first began his inquiries into the affair. The Katada had wide possessions elsewhere at the time of the grant. Samon had gifted much of his new fief as temple land, and on the old maps of the day this part of Edo is a blood red splash, indication of these many establishments. But the Katada influence still prevailed through the ward, indeed through the more than good will of the beneficiaries. Tatéwaki's _yashiki_ was at the top of Ushigomézaka. His modest pension of a thousand _koku_ by no means represented the extent of his power. Iémon became frightened at the storm gathering against him. He was open to all suggestions of remedy for the cataleptic state into which O'Hana had fallen. The neighbour gossips suggested calling in the Daiho[u]-in of Shiomachi. A service kept part at least of the money in the ward. They had their share in provision and consumption; the fifty _ryo[u]_ necessary were much to them--and to Iémon in his present circumstances. The neighbours were assembled at Tamiya. Iémon went forth to greet the Daiho[u]-in. With his attendant _kannushi_ and train he presented himself at the entrance. Iémon was prostrate in salutation before the great man.--"Reverential thanks for the condescension. Deign to enter this unfortunate house." The Shinto[u] priest was brusque, as is the way of the kind. Himself he was the _samurai_, with all the tone of official manner. "Ha! Ha! Salutation to all." He gave a comprehensive glance through the assembly and lost none of them in the process. He approached the couch of O'Hana. He opened the closed eyes, which stared fixedly into space as of one dead. He raised an arm upright from the body. Stepping aside, he squatted. Some moments passed. The arm remained rigidly upright. Satisfied, the Daiho[u]-in signed to his attendants. Raising O'Hana they placed her in a sitting posture on a mat. Her hair was arranged in _icho[u]mage_.[36] A _gohei_ was placed between her hands. Then the Daiho[u]-in began the recitation of the prayers and charms. The other priests gave voice at times in response. All present were awe-struck. The women hardly breathed, leaning eagerly forward. Their eyes took on a vacant stare, as if themselves mesmerized. The _gohei_ began to tremble; then to shake violently. The woman's hair fell down in disorder around her face. All turned away their faces. Some women gave smothered cries. It was O'Iwa San who glared at them out of those eyes. The Daiho[u]-in eagerly leaned close over O'Hana--"O'Iwa: where are you? What has become of your body? Be sure to speak the truth. Don't attempt to lie to the priest.... You don't know? Ah! you would be obstinate in your grudge. The charm shakes and quivers; it possesses O'Iwa.... You would rest in Samoncho[u] ground? That is much to ask; particularly when the body is not in hand.... A substitute will do? Ah! Prayers?... For a year, at morn and night of each day? That is terrific. Consider the cost.... You care not for the cost! Only then will you cease to afflict the ward?... Very well: humbly this Daiho[u]-in transmits the will of the dead." Thus did the priestly mediator interpret to his gaping auditors the mumbling and cries given forth by O'Hana. The wild look faded from her eyes. She rolled over as in a faint. The priests raised her up. The Daiho[u]-in turned to Iémon and the assembly--"The words of O'Iwa have been heard through this woman. O'Hana has been possessed by O'Iwa. Hence her trance.... Heigh! Water!" He began making passes over his patient--"The stage has passed. O'Hana no longer is possessed by O'Iwa. The wronged lady leaves O'Hana to peace. O'Hana is completely herself again. O'Iwa is all delusion. O'Hana believes this. She believes firmly. The Daiho[u]-in tells her to believe. O'Iwa does not haunt O'Hana. O'Iwa has no ill will against O'Hana." He looked fixedly and with command into the eyes of O'Hana. His voice rang clear and authoritative. Then he began gently to stroke the back of her head, her neck and spine. "All is well?" "Hai! Hai! This Hana is completely restored. All is well." With a little sigh she sank back, to be laid on the cushions in a sleep which all wondered to see was most natural. Those present were in transports of delight. They buzzed approval as the Daiho[u]-in addressed Iémon. "The Daiho[u]-in has done his part. All have heard the words of O'Iwa San. The rest lies with the temple. Deign to receive these words. The Daiho[u]-in returns." With his pack voicing loudly at his tail he left the entrance gate. The assembly streamed after. Iémon was left alone, biting his thumbs in helpless rage. He was aghast. "The old fox! What is to be done, pressed as Iémon is for funds? How is this Iémon to act? Refusal means the open hostility of the whole ward. It will turn against him. Ah! What a miserable old scamp. He did it all himself; he and his confederates. The gods descend from above; the Daiho[u]-in shakes the _gohei_ from below--and those fools believe, to the ruin of Iémon!" Hence he would have postponed the costly appeal to the temple. Within the week a committee of the ward waited upon him. As if expecting them, Iémon gave ready compliance. With four or five other gentlemen he waited upon Shu[u]den Osho[u], the famous priest of the temple of the Gyo[u]ran Kwannon. The Lady Merciful, Kwannon Sama, seemed the fitting deity to whom appeal should be made. A word is to be said as to this famous manifestation of the goddess. Told by Ryuo[u] at length, of necessity here the account is much abridged. Gyo[u]ran Kwannon--Kwannon of the fish-basket--has several other names. She is called the Namagusai Kwannon, from the odour of fresh blood attached to the pursuit; the Byaku Kwannon, or the white robed; the Baryufu Kwannon, as wife of Baryu the fisherman. The image of the Byaku Kwannon exists.[37] It is carved in white wood, stained black, with a scroll in the right hand, and holding a fish basket (_gyo[u]ran_) in the left hand. The story of Baryu, and of his connection with Kwannon, is of more moment. In Morokoshi (China) there is a place called Kinshaden. Across the bay from Edo-To[u]kyo[u] is Kazusa with its ninety-nine villages, one of which has the same name--Kinshaden. The fishing population of Nippon is a rough lot. From babyhood there is little but quarrelling and fighting between the bands which control the different wards of the villages. The relations between the people are very primitive. One of the important occupations is the _iwashi_, or pilchard, fishing. To pull in the nets loaded with the fish requires the united effort of the whole village population, men, women, even children. Among their toilers the people of Kinshaden noted a young girl of some sixteen or seventeen years; easily noted by the great beauty and attraction of face and figure, the willing readiness and wonderful strength she showed in her struggles with the weighted net. As she appeared several times at last some men went up to her--"Girl, you are a stranger here. For your aid thanks are offered. Who may you be; and whence from? Strangers, even in kindness, in Nippon must not conceal their names." The girl smiled.--"I come from Fudarakusan in the South Ocean.... Where is Fudarakusan? It is in India.... And India? It is in the South Ocean, the Nankai." To the wonder expressed at her coming such a distance of thousands of _ri_--"I come, I serve, for my husband."--"Your husband? Pray who may he be, in these parts?"--"Not yet is he chosen," answered the girl. "Come! The nets are drawn, the fishing ended for the day. I will ascend that rock; read the sutra of the Lady Kwannon. He who can first memorize it shall be my husband." Ready was the assent to such an attractive proposal--a beautiful helpmate in prospect, one endowed with surprising strength for her frail form, and who seemed to bring luck to the efforts of the village in the struggle for a livelihood. Even the Nipponese prejudice against strangers paled before such practical qualification. The maid ascended to the rostrum. For three days she read and expounded the holy sutra of the Lady Kwannon. On the fourth day the fisherman Baryu--young, handsome, strong--felt sure that he could answer to the test. "Woman, descend! To-day this Baryu will repeat the sutra, expound its meaning." With seeming surprise and merriment the girl obeyed. Baryu took her place. Without slip or fault he repeated the sutra, expounded the intricacies of its meaning. The girl bowed low in submission. "Condescend to admit my humble person to the hut of Baryu the fisherman. To-night she pollutes with her presence a corner of his bed-chamber." Rejoicing Baryu at once took her to his home, where he would act the husband. At first gently she rebuked him. "These rough people of Kinshaden have regard to nothing! There is such a rite as marriage. Nine times are the _saké_ cups to be drained between husband and wife. Thus is established this important relation. In the connection between man and woman there is such a thing as etiquette. This observed, the woman passes to the possession of the man. For the woman, second marriage there is none." Thus were the decencies of the marriage bed taught to the rough fisherman. Near dawn Baryu awoke with surprise. His bed-fellow was in the last extremities. Dripping with sweat, she seemed to be melting away. Already she was unconscious. Then vomiting forth water she died. Baryu was tremendously put out. To lose a wife, who barely had been a wife; one so beautiful, so strong; this was extremely vexatious. "This won't do at all! Why has such a misfortune befallen this Baryu? O'Kabe (Miss Plaster) and O'Nabé (Miss Stewpan) endured without mishap the passage of their marriage night.... Hai! Hai!" in reply to a friend knocking at the door. "Baryu cannot go to the fishing to-day.... The woman? She has died. Baryu's wife is dead." Opening the door he retailed his experience to the wondering friend. As they talked, along came a priest most strangely dressed for this land. Approaching them he said--"Is this the house of Baryu?" At the fisherman's acknowledgement--"Has a girl come here?... Dead! Deign to let this foolish cleric hang eyes upon her." Baryu thought he would take his turn at questions. "And you; whence from?" "From Fudarakusan in the Nankai." "Get you hence, frantic interloper," broke in Baryu with grief and anger. "Enough has this Baryu heard of Fudarakusan. Baryu must needs observe his state as widower. The month must pass before he seeks a wife. And more than half its days remain! But look." Mollified by the humble attitude of the priest he went and raised the coverlet from the woman's body. He uttered a cry of surprise. "Oya! Oya! She has disappeared. There is naught here but a wooden image. Ma! Ma! what a curious figure--with scroll and fish basket, just as the wife appeared at the beach. This is what one reads of in books." He turned to the priest in wonder and as seeking explanation. Said the latter with earnest and noble emphasis--"Favoured has been this Baryu. The Kwannon of Fudarakusan of Nankai has shown herself before his very eyes. For the reform of this wicked people, to teach them the holy writing, she has condescended to submit to the embraces of the fisherman. Let not Baryu think of other marriage. For him has come the call to leave this world. Fail not to obey." Baryu rushed to the door, to catch but a glimpse of the departing form. All sign of the priest quickly faded. Baryu returned to the wooden figure lying where once had reposed the body of the beautiful girl. It was a most unsatisfactory substitute for the flesh and blood original. But Baryu made the most of it. He took his vow. He shaved his head, becoming a priest to recite and preach the sutra of the Lady Kwannon. Hence this Kwannon is known as the Baryufu Kwannon--wife of Baryu the fisherman. Hence she is called the Kwannon of the fish basket, in honour of the aid she brought the people of this village and land. CHAPTER XXII THE RITES FOR O'IWA SAN Iémo[u]n fared as badly at the hands of the Buddha as at those of the Kami. Shu[u]den Osho[u], as guardian of the sacred image of the Gyo[u]ran Kwannon, was a very great man indeed. After some delay the deputation from Samoncho[u] was ushered into his presence, Iémon made profound obeisance and explained the cause of their presence. The visitations of O'Iwa to the district were causing the greatest public commotion. Not as a matter of private interest, but of public utility his interference was sought. If Iémon thought to abstract a copper "cash" from the priestly treasury he made a gross mistake. Besides, the individual who disturbs the public peace suffers severely from official mediation, no matter what form this takes. Shu[u]den inquired minutely as to the visit of the Daiho[u]-in, of which he seemed to have heard. What information Iémon might have withheld, or minimised, or given a different complexion, was cheerfully volunteered by others, who also corrected and amplified any undue curtailing or ambiguity of their spokesman. Shu[u]den listened to Iémon with a gravity and an expression hovering between calculation and jeering comment. He turned from him to the committee, giving great attention to those scholiasts on the text of the orator. He gravely wagged his head in agreement with the rival prelate, whose acumen he highly extolled. Memorial services were to be provided for a year. It was, after all, merely a form of restitution to the wronged lady. But also the wandering spirit of O'Iwa was to be suitably confined. Here lay the difficulty. Recitation of the sutra for seven continuous days; proper inhumation of the substitute beyond possibility of disturbance, would surely lay a spell on the enraged lady, and put an end to the curse of one dying an unworshipped spirit. For the burial a bamboo was to be provided--of length one _shaku_ eight _bu_ (one foot nine inches) between the joints. With this notice Iémon and his companions withdrew. He was resigned to the payment of the fifty _ryo[u]_ necessary for the memorial services extending over the year. The inclusion in the bamboo was another affair. The finding of such was about as easy as the fishing for black pearls. He soon found that securing the substitute and securing the body of O'Iwa San for proper inhumation were kindred problems. After looking over all the bamboo which had drifted to Edo and was in the hands of the world secular--and most of it at surprisingly cheap rates--the committee was driven back on the religious world. They soon found that the article in question was kept in stock only at the Gyo[u]ran Kwannondo[u]. Resorting to the priestly offices, Iémon felt convinced that the grave salutation of the incumbent official--they directed him to the treasury--concealed a derisive grin at his expense. He was sure of it when he learned that this rare object could be had--for another fifty _ryo[u]_. The temple gave no credit; but Suzuki, the usurer who was one of the party, after some demur agreed to hand over the amount, which he had just received from Akiyama Cho[u]zaémon, the service bounty of the daughter O'Tsuru. With some reluctance the long nosed, long faced, long limbed Kamimura went security for the repayment on their return to the ward. With cheerful recklessness Iémon pledged the last chance of any income from the pension and resources of Tamiya for the next three years; so heavily was he in debt. Shu[u]den on his part lost no time. With at least one member of the committee in attendance, to see that he played fair, for seven days vigorously was the sutra intoned by the loudest and most brazen of his subordinates, backed by the whole body of priests. Day and night a priest would slip to the side altar, to invoke the pity of the Buddha on the wandering spirit of the deceased lady in few pithy but hasty words, and to spend the rest of his vigil in a decent slumberous immobility. The seven days accomplished, the procession formed. Six men in new uniforms--provided by Iémon--made pretence of great difficulty in carrying the long box (_nagamochi_). Four men carried the _sambo_, or sacred tray of white wood, on which rested the section of bamboo wrapped by the hands of Shu[u]den himself in the sacred roll of the sutra of Kwannon. Officialdom of the ward was present. The citizens turned out _en masse_. For long Yotsuya had not witnessed such a scene. Within its precincts the _yashiki_ of the great nobles were conspicuously absent; their long processions of spearman, _chu[u]gen_, _samurai_ and officials were only to be witnessed at times on the highway which leaves Shinjuku for the Ko[u]shu[u]kaido[u] and the alternate and then little used Ashigarato[u]ge road. Arrived at Samoncho[u] the ground selected was inspected by Shu[u]den. The bishop's eyebrows puckered in questioning mien. "Here there are too many people. Is there no other place?" They led him to another site. The wrinkle deepened to a frown--"Here there are too many children. Their frolics and necessities are unseemly. These would outrage the tender spirit. Is there no other place?" The committee was nonplussed. Iémon was in terrible fear lest all his effort and expenditure would go for naught but to swell Shu[u]den's cash roll. A thought came into his mind. "There is no other open land, but the garden of Tamiya is wide and secluded. The wall prevents public access." People looked at him aghast. He was either mad with courage, or obstinate in disbelief in the power of O'Iwa San so plainly manifested. Shu[u]den paid no attention to that surprised whispering. "Deign to show the way thither." Thus the procession took its course back to Teramachi and through the gate of Tamiya. A spot was selected, just before the garden gate. It was open to the salutation and vows of passers-by, yet could be shut off from direct access toward house and public. At Shu[u]den's order a hole was dug, just four _shaku_ (feet) in depth. The Osho[u] began the recitation of the sutra. The priests stood by in vigilant attention. As the last word reverberated on the bishop's lips they seized the sutra wrapped bamboo, slipped it in the long box--bum! the lock snapped. The congregation was tremendously impressed. For a decent time Shu[u]den remained in prayer and meditation. "The charm is complete. O'Iwa no longer wanders, to her own penance and the disaster of men. Henceforth he who says she does so lies. Hearken to the words of Shu[u]den. Admit none such to your company. Let not children make this place a playground. Shu[u]den has given warning. Pollution surely follows. Their habits are unseemly, an insult to the dead. Even as to parents, those with infants on their backs are specifically to be excluded." He tied a paper covered with Sanscrit characters to a bamboo stick. This was placed on a white wood stake. On the stake he wrote kindred words, converting it into the counterfeit of a _sotoba_. Neither he nor any present knew what the words meant, or had care as to their ignorance of this essential of religion. Then he and his train gathered up their gowns and galloped out the gate, after practice and receipt of grave courtesy, so much did temple differ from shrine in its contact with secular life. The assembled multitude departed; much edified by the day's proceedings, and with low comment to each other on the dilapidation of Tamiya, its fall from the one time spruce and flourishing state. "Introduce a spendthrift in the door, and the wealth leaks from every crevice. The spirit of Tamiya Matazaémon must grieve at this sight. But why did he bring in as _muko_ a stranger?" Iémon could flatter himself on the efficacy of the divine interposition. The public mind was quieted. Nothing more was heard of O'Iwa San. Only the daily summons, on one pretext or another, to the ward office troubled him. The _yakunin_ also made a practice of taking in Tamiya en route to performance of their various missions. This he knew was a practice as to men under observation. He went over his career as known to Yotsuya. There was nothing in it to call for question. Official censure does not rest its case on a ghost story. The famous investigation of Echizen no Kami (O[u]oka) into the Yaeume case of Yamada was matter of later days. Moreover, all his troubles were lightened by the state of O'Hana, the devoted object of unwavering affection. Ever since the Daiho[u]-in had mesmerized her, impressed his will on her, the daily improvement could be marked. Now again she was her normal self; sadly thin and worn in spirit, a woman tired out, but yet the figure of O'Hana and in her right mind. To him she was the beautiful tradition of the past and just as beautiful as ever in actuality. Two weeks had passed since Shu[u]den's experiment. One night, as the hour of the pig (9 P.M.) was striking, there came a knocking at the door. O'Hana rose from her sewing. "Danna, Kamimura San would say a word." Iémon made a gesture of annoyance. The long man had shadowed him, ever since entering on the engagement of bail. He went to the door and looked at his caller with amazement. Kamimura, his hair in confusion, was stark naked except for his wife's under cloth--and she was almost a dwarf. He stretched out a hand to Iémon, half in threat, half in begging. "Iémon Uji, a word: condescend to grant this Goémon ten _ryo[u]_ in silver, not in words. Suzuki the usurer has come on Goémon as bail of Iémon, in the matter of the exorcism. To-day he stripped the house of everything. Wife and children, hungry and almost naked, lie on bare boards. When Goémon begged mercy, that he go to Tamiya, the wretched fellow jeered. 'Tamiya? Tamiya has but _hibachi_ and three mats; the clothes worn by himself and wife. The house and land of Tamiya is but a reversion. Suzuki gets nothing at Tamiya but a lawsuit which would not pay the office fees. Kamimura is rich; his house is well supplied. One petition; and not only expenses, but the debt finds payment. Hence Suzuki troubles not Tamiya.' With this off he went deriding me. Deign the loan, Iémon San. Condescend at least the shelter of clothes and food." To the wretched fellow Iémon could make no reply. Ten _ryo[u]_! Kamimura might as well have asked for ten thousand _ryo[u]_. In house and land Iémon was secure. These belonged to the heirship of Tamiya as long as the House maintained its status. The pension was long mortgaged. The farms had disappeared. The trouble of Goémon pained him. He could only refuse; palliating the refusal with vague promises as to the near future. He would effect a loan. The debt of Suzuki repaid, all his goods would be restored to Kamimura San. Goémon took this talk at its real value. Shaking his fist he berated Iémon with violent words. "Ah! Shame is brought to the House of Kamimura, wretchedness to his family--and by this vile stranger. It is Iémon with his heartless wicked treatment of O'Iwa San, who has wrought distress and ruin to the ward. For Goémon there is neither food nor clothing? Wait! Time shall bring his vengeance on Iémon and his House." Iémon would have detained him; sought in some way to mollify him, at least get a hint as to how he purposed injury. Goémon shook him off as one would a reptile. With a wild laugh he went out naked as he was into the darkness. He had no definite purpose in mind. However, as he passed the garden gate of Tamiya his eye caught the factitious _sotoba_ standing white in the fitful moonlight. He stood stock still; then clapped his hands in mad joy and decision. Hastening to his home he sought out an old battered mattock and a rusty spade. Soon he was back at the garden gate. A blow and the bar fell. Goémon passed within. "She lies but four _shaku_ deep. The task is quickly performed. None pass here at this hour." The dirt flew under his nervous arms. Soon he had the box out on the ground beside him. A peal of thunder; he must hasten, or stand a ducking from the coming storm. He laughed. What had a naked man to fear from getting wet? The clothes he wore would not spoil. Why did not man dress in a towel, as after the bath; its use, to wipe the moisture from the body. Now his eyes were fixed in curiosity on the bamboo staff before him. The first few drops of the rainstorm fell on his bare shoulders, but he disregarded them. "Naruhodo! How heavy it is! O'Iwa in life hardly weighed more. Lady of Tamiya--show pity on this Goémon. Iémon and O'Hana--those wicked voluptuaries--prosper and flourish, while Goémon is brought to beggary and starvation. Deign to visit the wrath of O'Iwa San on these vile wretches. Seize and kill them. Goémon sets O'Iwa free." He seized the mattock. Raising it overhead he brought the edge sharply down on the bamboo stake. At the moment there was a violent peal of thunder rolling off into a crash and rattle. The landscape was lit up by the vivid lightning. People uneasily turned over on their beds. Shortly after dawn Iémon woke with a start. Don-don-don, don-don-don. There was a tremendous rapping at his door. O'Hana could hear but a whispered consultation going on without the _amado_. Iémon returned to the room. His face was white; his step tottered. Hastily he donned an outer robe. To her question he made scant reply, so agitated was he. His one idea was to keep from her what he had just heard. In the garden he found his wardsmen assembled. All were dumbfounded and aghast. They looked at each other and then at the broken bamboo tube. Close by lay the body of the man who had done the deed. Brains and blood had oozed from the hole in the skull in which yet stuck the pointed end of the mattock sunk deep within. Evidently the instrument had rebounded from the resilient surface of the bamboo. A by-stander pointed to the tiny fracture near the hard knot of the staff. It was a small thing, but enough to destroy all the past labours. Iémon went up to look at the body. "Why! 'Tis Goémon." To their questioning he told how Kamimura had called on the previous night, his rage at the inability of Iémon to aid him in distress. With hanging heads, eyes on the ground, and wagging tongues, all departed to their homes. Later the body of Goémon was borne to his house by neighbours. Iémon picked up the bamboo staff. Carrying it within he placed it in a closet. It was as costly an object as the house had ever held. He was in despair. It was on that very day, at the seventh hour (3 P.M.), that O'Hana heard a call at the door. "A request to make! A request to make!" She recoiled from the sight presented. A beggar stood at the entrance of Tamiya. A dirty mat wrapped around his body, feet and arms emerging from bandages, making him like to some hideous insect with its carapace, his face wrapped in a towel, the effects of leprosy were hideously patent.--"What do you here? There is naught to be had. Pray depart at once." The answer was in tones the very harshness of which seemed to cause pain to the utterer--"The request is to Iémon Dono. Condescend to notify him." With fearful glance O'Hana shrank within, Iémon noted her nervous quivering. Promptly he was on his feet--"A beggar has frightened Hana? Such are to be severely dealt with." He went to the entrance. "A beggar, and such a fellow? How comes it entrance has been had to the ward? There is nothing for you here. If you would escape the dogs and bastinado, get you hence at once." The man did not stir from the spot on which he stood. Slowly he opened the mat held round his body (_komokaburi_), one of the coarse kind used to wrap round _saké_ barrels. He was clothed in rags glued together by the foul discharges of his sores. He removed the towel from his face. The ghastly white and red blotches, the livid scars of the leper, the head with patches of scurfy hair ready to fall at a touch, startled even Iémon the priest. He would not have touched this man, expelled him by force, for all the past wealth of Tamiya. The intruder noted the effect produced. "To such has the wrath of O'Iwa San brought this Cho[u]bei. Does not Iémon, the one-time neighbour Kazuma, recognize Cho[u]bei? And yet all comes through Iémon. Child, wife, means of life, all these have failed Cho[u]bei. In the jail robbed of everything, degenerate in mind and body, Cho[u]bei has found refuge at nights in the booths of street vendors; on cold wet nights, even in the mouths of the filthy drains. Fortunate is he when fine weather sends him to rest on the river banks. To seek rest; not to find it. O'Iwa stands beside him. When eyelids drowse Cho[u]bei is aroused, to find her face close glaring into his. Beg and implore, yet pardon there is none. 'Cho[u]bei has a debt to pay to Iwa. In life Cho[u]bei must repay by suffering; yet not what Iwa suffered. Think not to rest.' Some support was found in a daughter, sold in times past to the Yamadaya of Yoshiwara. There the child grew up to become the great profit of the house. The influence of the Kashiku was all powerful to secure entrance. For a night Cho[u]bei was to find food and a bed. But that night came Kibei San. He killed the Kashiku--crushed her out, as one would crush an insect. This Cho[u]bei nearly died; but Kibei left him to the mercy of O'Iwa. Her mercy!" He would have thrown out his arms in weary gesture of despair. The pain and effort were too great. He moaned. "Last night Cho[u]bei sought relief. Of late years the river has been spanned, for passers-by and solace of the human refuse. Standing on Ryo[u]gokubashi the dark waters of the river called to Cho[u]bei as they swept strongly by to the sea. A moment, and all would be ended. About to leap hands were laid on Cho[u]bei's shoulders. He was dragged back. Turning--lo! 'twas O'Iwa San. Another creature, still fouler than she, with sloping eyelid, bald head, and savage look, stood by. Said O'Iwa San--'And Cho[u]bei would end all--with luxury before his eyes! Cho[u]bei dies not but with the consent of Iwa. Get you to Yotsuya; to Iémon and Hana, living in luxury and Tamiya. Aid will not be refused you.' And so she brought me here. Deign to hear the prayer of Cho[u]bei. Allow him to die in Yotsuya, upon the _tatami_; not on the bare earth, to be thrown on the moor for dogs to gnaw. Grant him burial in temple ground." He changed his theme; the feeble quivering hands clasped his belly. "Ah! This pinching hunger. Double Cho[u]bei's suffering; of mind and body. Apply for alms or food, and the leper is repulsed. See! Two fingers remain on this hand. Count of the rest fills out the tale for but one member. O'Hana San, condescend a rice ball for this Cho[u]bei. You, at least, know not the pinch of hunger.... Ah! She still possesses some of that beauty and charm for which Iémon has brought ruin upon all." Before the horrible lascivious leer of this object O'Hana fled. Left alone Iémon spoke. He had been thinking--"Cho[u]bei has spoken well. From Iémon he is entitled to relief. Cho[u]bei shall die on his mat. But in such shape nothing can be done. Get you hence. Buy clothing fit to appear before men's eyes. In the bath wash that pus-laden body. Then come to Iémon. Relief shall be granted Cho[u]bei." Wrapping a _ryo[u]_ in paper he passed it to the leper. It was the last coin he possessed. O'Hana now returned with five or six rice balls savoured with salt. Fascinated, the two watched the horrible diseased stumps awkwardly shoving the food into the toothless mouth, cramming it in, and breaking it up so as not to lose the savour of a grain. "Until to-morrow," said Cho[u]bei. He picked up his stick. In silence the man and woman watched him. "Leaning on his bamboo staff he crawled away like some insect." O'Hana looked inquiringly at Iémon. He turned away his head. Through the dusk Cho[u]bei crawled across the Ryo[u]gokubashi. The words of the woman O'Také had come true. He had a sense of being followed. He turned at the sound of footsteps. At sight of a _samurai_ in deep hat, mechanically he stretched out hands and self in the roadway, begging an alms. The man drew apart, passing him in disgust and haste. Cho[u]bei went on. He had no aim. It was with surprise that he found himself, as often of late, on the embankment of the North Warigesui. He looked down on the foul place of O'Iwa's disappearance. "A foul ending; but after all an end. One night! One night's sleep! Deign, lady of Tamiya, to grant pardon and respite to Cho[u]bei. Just one hour of sleep." Carefully he adjusted his mat. Painfully he stretched himself out on it. "To die on the mat. Such was the word of Iémon." He felt his rags. "It was well he agreed. Cho[u]bei had other means to force compliance. Well, 'tis for later use." A continued rustling aroused him. Some one was cautiously picking a way through the dry grass of the past winter, was creeping toward him. He half rose. Seeing that concealment was no longer possible, the man rushed on him. Cho[u]bei struggled to his feet, as one to fight for life. "Life is dear. Why kill Cho[u]bei the leper? Is he a test for some new sword? Deign to pardon. The flesh of the leper is too rotten. It defiles the weapon. Cho[u]bei has been the _samurai_; he knows.... Ah! Respite there is none. 'Tis Iémon! Iémon of Tamiya would kill Cho[u]bei!" He shouted and coupled the names in his despair. Fearful of discovery, of being overheard, Iémon did not delay. The gleaming weapon descended. Standing over the body Iémon showed uncertainty. He had some thought of search; even bent down over it. But he could not touch those foul rags. His nicety of feeling, almost womanlike--recoiled. Besides, what more had Iémon to do with the leper Cho[u]bei. Their account was closed. Should he leave the body where it was? Recognition might convey some danger, at least inconvenience. He looked around for means to sink it in these waters, and yet not handle its repulsiveness. A _sho[u]yu_ tub, old but fairly intact, lay upon the bank. It caught his eye. He rolled it up to the corpse. Gingerly he girdled the body of the dead man with his _tasuki_ (shoulder cord). Now tight fast it clasped the roundness of the barrel. This he filled with stones, drove in the head, and with a shove sent it and its burden into the Warigesui. "That will hold him down. The rotten punk! Three days, and none could recognize him." Then he set off at rapid pace for Yotsuya. CHAPTER XXIII SANZUGAWA BRIDGELESS: THE FLOWERLESS ROAD TRAVERSED BY THE DEAD It was the hour of the pig (9 P.M.) before Iémon reached the house in Yotsuya. To his surprise he found the _amado_ still open on the garden. Some one was lying face downward on the _ro[u]ka_. It was O'Hana. To his alarmed inquiry as to what was wrong she answered in the voice of one trying to suppress great pain. "This Hana knows not. Opening a closet to get the spices used in preparing the meal, a rat sprang out. It scratched the face of Hana. Truly the pain is very great." She groaned, Iémon gently raised her. At the look on his face O'Hana said--"There is a mirror in the toilet set (_kyo[u]dai_). Deign to get it for Hana." He did not get it--this dower gift once of O'Iwa--but tried to soothe her--"Let be: the wounds soon will heal. The pain will pass away." She shoved him aside and ran to the toilet stand. She took the hand-mirror to the solitary lamp lighting the room. Aghast she contemplated her features. One side of the face was completely discoloured. It was a dark red, almost black, with the mark of five fingers plainly visible, as if a hand had struck her. No rat had made this wound. O'Hana leaned over, her head resting almost on her knees. Iémon touched her shoulder--"Don't mind it. Truly the pain will pass with dawn. Hana...." He drew back from the scowling madness in the face raised to him--"Sa! Sa! Iémon! Iémon! Easily did you get hold of all my property, to waste it on O'Hana. 'Twas like grasping wet millet. Then, barbarous as you were, you sold me to the vile life of a street harlot. Ah! Vengeance!" In fright Iémon retreated. O'Hana, taking herself to be O'Iwa, all her madness had returned. She sprang up. Screens were beaten and torn to pieces. With the heavy mirror she turned on him, seeking vengeance for her imagined wrongs. Iémon narrowly escaped injury as he dashed in to grapple with her. He succeeded in dragging her away from the lamp. Thus did this wild battle rage in the half dark room. The fictitious strength of the ill woman gave out. He held her on the floor, as one subdued. As she relapsed into a sleep, almost of unconsciousness, he ventured to release her. Going to a closet he placed the mirror beside the bamboo stick; both hidden away. All night he watched over her. Wearied out, with day he sought an aid readily given. The nurse, however, in alarm soon roused him. O'Hana was raving madly in a high fever. The woman could not restrain her. Her cries were terrible, but not more so than the speech from her lips--"O'Iwa, pardon! With the drugs of Suian this Hana would palsy O'Iwa's mind and body; poison the very springs of life, cut off all hope of issue. Ah! Vain the love of a man. All is granted him; body and goods. Iémon sells Hana for a street harlot. Out with him! Help!... Ah! Kwaiba aids--in all his rottenness. How horrible he is--huge vacant eye holes, the purple whitish flesh gnawed and eaten.... Ugh! He stinks!... Nay! 'Tis not Kwaiba. 'Tis Cho[u]bei: Cho[u]bei the leper, who would embrace this Hana. Iémon comes. There is murder in his eye--for Hana to see, not Cho[u]bei. Away! Away!... Again, there she comes!" She grasped the nurse's arm, and pointed to the just lighted _andon_ which barely relieved the shadows of the darkening night; was it the woman's imagination? By the light, dimly outlined; sat O'Iwa San. Her hair hung down around face and body half turned aside. The bulging forehead, the puffed eyelids, were not to be mistaken. The woman shook off the sick girl's hand and fled the house. Iémon did not try to prevent her. He was as one paralyzed. He, too, had seen, and was convinced. To watch through the night was the task of the anxious and wearied man. In the day a _yakunin_ had come, with formal notice to attend next day the office of Katada Tatéwaki Dono. His lordship had an inquiry to make. The summons was not to be disregarded, no matter what his own exigencies. O'Hana had dropped into a cataleptic state. As the eighth hour (1 A.M.) approached he thought to clear brain and body by the rest of a few moments. His head had barely touched the pillow when sleep followed. The bell of Gwansho[u]ji struck the hour. It roared and reverberated through Tamiya. Iémon awoke; an oppression like suffocation pervaded his whole body. Opening his eyes they stared into the wide white flat face of O'Iwa. Her eyes were now alive, darting gleams of fire deep from within the puffed and swollen lids. He felt her wild disordered hair sweeping his face as she swayed a little, still retaining her post and clutch on his bosom--"Iémon knows Iwa now! Hana knows Iwa now! Sworn to seize and kill both for seven births--come! Now it is that Iwa completes her vengeance." As she shook and pressed on him he came gradually out of his sleep. With a shout he cast her backwards. Springing up he grasped the sword at his pillow. Madly he dealt blow after blow on the body before him. To the groans he replied by fresh blows. An uproar without called him to himself. Don--don--don, don, don, don. There was knocking at the gate. Iémon hastily trimmed up the wick of the lamp. He leaned over the body. O'Hana! The young man stooped over her, leaning on the gory sword. Great drops of cold sweat stood out on his forehead. A shout came from without. "In his lordship's name! Open, or force will be used." Why had the summons for the day been anticipated? The unhappy ravings of O'Hana flashed to his mind. Iémon no longer reasoned. A cunning insane light was in his eyes. Softly he made his way to the _amado_ fronting on the garden. No one was without. In the rain and storm he might escape. Traversing the darkness he noted, however, the man posted at the gate in the rear. Springing on the roof of the shed he looked over into Teramachi. It was deserted. With the bloody sword he hacked off the sharp points of the bamboo stakes. They now aided his flight over the wall. He cast the weapon aside. In a few minutes he disappeared in rapid flight down the street. When Katada Tatéwaki, accompanied by his men, at last broke down the stout resistance offered by the outer door of Tamiya he found the house empty, except for the dead body of O'Hana, lying in its pool of blood. She was still warm. He took it for mere murder, giving more urgent directions for immediate pursuit. Methodically he searched the house, down to the very rubbish pile. The seal of Tamiya was secured. This meant much. With sceptical smile he handled the broken bamboo stick found in a closet. He did not show the discovery to his men. Where did Iémon go? The unhappy man himself could not have told what happened in the intervening days. He came to consciousness in the darkness of a spring night, just before the dawn. The stars were beginning to pale in the East. The landscape had the livid eerie light in which it is uncertain whether day or night is to be the issue. With surprise Iémon looked around him; then shuddered. The stagnant waters of Warigesui's filthy stream lay beneath him. He had found rest on the bank, at the very place where Cho[u]bei had died under his hand. "The Sanzugawa--without hills or bridges; On highway traversed by the dead, flowers there are none."[38] The _yama_ ([yama]) refers to Yamada Cho[u]bei; the _hashi_ ([hashi]) to Takahashi Iémon; the _hana_ ([hana]) to O'Hana, the wife of Iémon. Such was the then interpretation of the old poem. Iémon could go no further. His course was run. He knew it; but how end life? At heart he was an arrant coward. Determined to cut belly he drew the dagger he had kept with him. A shudder went through him at sight of the steel. Ah! Better the green slime of the waters below. He thrust the blade back into its scabbard. Moodily standing and gazing down, he gave an idle kick to a stone near by. Dislodged, it swayed, then rolled heavily down the bank, to plunge noisily into the stream, disturb its noisome depths. The effect was surprising. Following its course with his eye Iémon suddenly gave a yell of horror. Eyes starting from his head, arms raised high, he bent toward the stream. Hair standing on end he watched the hideous object rise to the surface. The face of Cho[u]bei, purple and bloated, the lips half gnawed and open in a fiendish grin, looked up at him. Down came the arms, and Iémon put hands over eyes to shut out the fearful vision. A horrid curiosity drove him again to view it. Was he mad? This time the barrel in its slow revolution brought to view the wide flat face, the bulging brow and heavy lids, the tangled, disordered hair of the drowned O'Iwa. Scream after scream of the now frantic wretch rang in the air. These waters! Seek death there! No! No! A thousand times--No! He turned to flee the place, but his legs refused the service. With fell purpose he ripped the blade from its scabbard, tore open his clothes to give the deadly thrust. As he raised the dagger invisible hands seized his arm. When he would release it, the other arm was seized. Everywhere these hands held him fast. He raged, tore, struggled madly to elude their grasp. Then, overcome, he fainted. Katada Tatéwaki from the top of the bank had been watching the struggle of his men. He came forward and looked down at the bound and helpless creature. "'Tis he: in very fact." On order a bamboo pole was fetched, and run between the bound hands and feet. Thus like some beast was Iémon conveyed to the nearest ward office. The formalities were few and soon over. To avoid chance of repetition of the scene they conveyed him as he was. Thus began the brutal progress across Edo in full daylight. People turned and stared after this escort of the man-beast. At a distance they took the burden as some savage bear, or perhaps one of those reputed "_tanuki_" so noxious in their pranks on humankind. Come closer it was seen to be a man. Any mad struggle to get free was treated to spear pricks applied with no great nicety beyond the avoidance of serious injury. Violent as were his struggles at times, it is doubtful if they could have walked him the long distance. For the days of his flight he had never rested; nor had these men in his pursuit. Yet he was unexpected game. The Yotsuya affair was taking a widening sweep. Tamiya Yoémon and Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei were under examination. The death of a girl O'Haru at the brothel of Toémon of Honjo[u] had unexpected effects. In the investigation which followed one of the women, O'Také, had made full confession. The pedlar Mobei had never left the house of Toémon; never escaped from the hospitality of O'Matsu. His goods had aroused her cupidity. The man died by poison, and was buried in the garden of Toémon's house. O'Haru knew of the deed. This knowledge was the girl's destruction. The wife and her substitute O'Kin hated O'Haru. Some remains of a first good looks, her youth, gave her power with the master of the house. The two women worked on his fears to gain consent for her destruction. A charge easily was trumped up, and she was dragged off to the cell of punishment. Under the hands of the wife and O'Kin she suffered so that she died in three days, not without letting her mate O'Také into the secret. Promptly the Honjo[u] police were at work; not more prompt than was the woman O'Kin to disappear from Edo, almost a confession in itself. The rosary, found in the hands of the rector of the Reiganji, was easily traced through different mediators straight to O'Matsu herself. The man Toémon held out, and died under the torture. The woman confessed; and in her confession was comprehended the full story of O'Iwa's connection with Toémon's house. Of her no more need be said. She rotted and died in the jail. The girls were scattered to kindred houses. Two of the women, hunting their pray on Warigesui toward the _yashiki_ quarter, had witnessed the murder of Cho[u]bei three nights before. The police had gone to secure the body. Tatéwaki Dono was notified and had accompanied them. To the surprise of all Iémon, then the object of earnest search, was found on the spot. The affair kept on spreading--to the very source of all these troubles. Katada Tatéwaki in the course of procedure had transmitted the Tamiya case to the jurisdiction of the _machibugyo[u]_ of the North district of Edo town, Homma Iga no Kami. With greatest interest the two men in company poured over the innumerable documents now piling up in the case. Old Tamiya Yoémon proved easy game. He readily confessed all he knew. This brought in many witnesses from the wardsmen. It was not exactly what was wanted. The evidence was mostly mere hearsay and conjecture. In those days such testimony had a value not far below that of direct statement. All pointed the way to the real criminal, who after all was the star witness. Against Yoémon at first there was but little. However, in his rage against Iémon and Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei--Akiyama was out of his reach--his tongue was too long. The faces of the magistrates grew serious as his connection with the money lender Suzuki was made plain. A _samurai_ loaning money on interest! and pressing men to ruin for payment!! The stingy avaricious Yoémon appeared behind the usurer--until in time his own heavy losses had made him a borrower, and placed him in the hands of his once partner. Yoémon, together with the conspirators, was not allowed to participate in the forced restitution made by Suzuki. Nevertheless, at the time no great severity was shown the old man. He was remanded to the custody of his bail, to be kept confined to one room in the house. The same leniency was shown toward Rokuro[u]bei. When he showed a disposition to be recalcitrant, to equivocate, Homma gave sign to the _do[u]shin_. Quickly the scourgers came forward with their fearful instrument, the _madaké_. Made of bamboo split into long narrow strips, these tightly wrapped in twisted hempen cord to the thickness of a _sun_ (inch), with the convenient leverage of a couple of _shaku_ (feet), the mere sight brought Kondo[u] to terms. As he entered he had seen them lead away a _heimin_ (commoner) who had undergone the punishment. The man's back, a mass of bruised and bleeding flesh, was vivid to mind. At once he prostrated himself; made full confession. At last they were at the source. Kondo[u] was a witness of the fact. He could and did tell of the inception and progress of the whole plot against O'Iwa San, the source of untold woe to Yotsuya. His story covered the period from the entrance of Iémon into the ward up to the discovery of the body of Kamimura Goémon. The rôle played by Kazaguruma Cho[u]bei was in part dark to him. Of the disposition of O'Iwa to the Honjo[u] master of the _Yo[u]taka_ he pleaded ignorance. Tatéwaki Dono smiled as he counselled indulgence on this point. He knew. Kondo[u], however, was sent back to the jail. He was unquestionably a principal. At last it was the turn of Iémon. The weeks had passed. The body had been carefully nursed back to vigour. The mind was in lamentable state. The ill-meant efforts of the jail authorities, the strengthening of the criminal in order better to endure the torture to the confession point, were somewhat baffled by the nightly visions of the wretched man. The two hags, O'Iwa and O'Mino; Cho[u]bei in his final stage of purple bloatedness; these were his nightly companions, to torment and harass him. Sleep! If he could but close his eyes to shut out these horrors! Instead they became more vivid. The jailors put him at the farthest corner of their ample premises. His fellow prisoners, such as were allowed daily exit to the yard, visited him with blows and foul insults for the disturbance he created in the night. But he was cunning withal. Trapped as he was, in his lucid moments he realized that there could be but little against him. O'Iwa? Not even in Tokugawa times was the supernatural cause of prosecution except at the hands of the vulgar. Nor in those days, any more than in these of Taisho[u] _nengo_, was a wife legally protected against abuse of husband or parents-in-law. As for Cho[u]bei--he was dead. His own presence on the scene was no evidence against him as murderer. His only misgivings on that point lay in the confusion of mind as to the few days then covered. But who would blame a _samurai_ for testing his blade on a beggar? What were beggars for? He knew nothing of the evidence given by Yoémon and Kondo[u]; of the vile proof in the hands of Katada Dono. He had wholly forgotten the nurse who had listened to the wild ravings of O'Hana in her illness, broken sentences bearing so heavily and dove-tailing so nicely into the completed case. Owing to this woman Tatéwaki Dono had not waited the appearance of Iémon at morning. Iémon also left out of account the characters of the two men before whom he appeared. Iga no Kami sat as judge in the case. Close beside him, a little in the rear, sat Katada Tatéwaki, in whose jurisdiction the case had originated, and who was familiar with every stage. The four _do[u]shin_ sat to one side and the other of these two men. Homma and Katada were typical of their caste. Cold, callous, cruel, devoted rigidly to the formulæ; of the _samurai_ code, with strange exceptions granted to the virtues required of the common people--filial conduct and unswerving obedience to a superior--they were not men likely to regard with favour this intruder into their class. The name of _samurai_ had been brought into contempt. Hence the serious character of the offence, the necessity of severest scrutiny. To the valued suggestion of Tatéwaki, Iga no Kami nodded assent. Iémon thought of nothing but the murder of Cho[u]bei, the abuse of his wife O'Iwa, the conspiracy against her life and honour. The first question paralyzed his defence. Was he not the son of Takahashi Daihachiro[u]? The whole terrible vista of the consequences of avowal appeared before him, once himself a _do[u]shin_ and familiar with legal procedure. The family had suffered _kaieki_ (deprivation of rights). It had been degraded from the caste. Properly speaking Iémon was an intruder into the _samurai_ class. He was an impostor. His offence was against the suzerain lord, the Sho[u]gun. All the terrible penalties of treason hung over him. Tatéwaki had been quick to note the opportunity to take this case out of the category of offence by a _samurai_. Iémon was a plebeian and a charlatan. He had insulted Government. At the stumbling denial quick order was given. A _yakunin_ seized the rope and dragged down the head of Iémon. Others held him at the sides, to maintain the body rigid. Stout fellows, the pick of the jailors, came forward. With ferocious regularity the blows fell. Welts at once appeared. Soon the blood was trickling from the torn skin. There was no sign to mitigate the severity of the infliction. When at the seventieth blow the body collapsed in a faint the wretched man was a terrible sight. The attendants of the jail, witnesses of the full punishment of double the number of stripes, had rarely seen such severity exercised. The jailors hated this smooth fellow, this disturber of their peace. They kept a jail, not a madhouse. Their superiors showed no sign of the mercy of renewed questioning. Hence they would change the mad nightly ravings to the subdued groans of the punished. The days passed and his body had healed, though movement caused pain and distress. Brought again before the judges at the very sight of the scourges he screamed out confession. Questioned as to the conspiracy against the caste, his fraudulent attempt to consummate marriage with a _samurai_ woman--the actual fact or legality of it was ignored--his ill-treatment and sale of her; all these in terror he denied. Once he had looked upon banishment from Edo as the limit of his punishment. Now decapitation would be a merciful end. He strove to secure the favour of a quick and painless death. Again he was beaten almost to a jelly. He clung to his denial, so important was the issue. At the next appearance he was seized and dragged to a post fixed in the ground not far from the judge's seat. His knees were pressed down on the edges of the triangular bars. These formed a sort of grid, the edges of the bars being just enough blunted to avoid cutting the skin. None of the pain was spared, yet the prisoner remained fit for early future torture. The granite slabs were then piled on his knees. Each one weighed thirteen _kwan_ (107 lbs.). As the fifth slab was placed on the body of Iémon, the flesh assumed a reddish tint from the impeded circulation. Froth stained his mouth, mucus ran from his nose. A sixth, a seventh stone, were placed. "How now! How now!" The men pressed heavily on the stones. A _do[u]shin_ bent over him, listening and waiting for sign of the important confession. The criminal was the one important witness of Tokugawa penal law. Without confession he was innocent beyond all other proof. As the eighth stone was placed Iémon began to vomit blood. The doctor raised his hand. The feet were showing signs of blackness, which rapidly spread upward. The man was in a dead faint. No confession had been secured. Perhaps the examination was thus conducted out of some severity. Days passed. Whether or not the report of the physician was unfavourable, influenced by some means Homma had fear the man might die before a public retribution was secured. When Iémon again was dragged before his judges he had a terrible object lesson before him. A man was undergoing the torture of the lobster. Hands drawn up behind to the shoulders, the feet tightly bound across the chest, he was propped up on a mat. Properly conducted this "effort to persuade" took place in the jail. Homma wished to try the effect of anticipation on Iémon. The prisoner looked quickly at the man under torture, then hung down his head. His lips were twitching with uncertainty. Homma struck hard--"Why deny the plain fact? Is justice so ignorant of the doings and whereabouts of a scamp. Kichitaro[u], or Kazuma the diviner, as he called himself, murders Cho[u]bei the pimp; a deed carried out before witnesses." A _do[u]shin_ placed the document of the confession of the whores so that Iémon had no difficulty in ascertaining its title. "And why? Because of the agreement with Cho[u]bei to sell the woman he dared to call his wife. The proof? The seal of Tamiya, the document itself." At last Iémon looked up. The _do[u]shin_ placed under his eyes the fatal contract with Cho[u]bei--agreement of exchange of the body of the woman in return for five _ryo[u]_ duly received. It had been recovered from the dead pimp's corpse. Carefully wrapped in oiled paper, Cho[u]bei had carried it--sewn in what he called his dress. Iémon unwilling to recognize past services, Cho[u]bei was sure to find it useful. Truly Iémon was young and impatient, and Cho[u]bei was double his age. With bitterness the survivor recognized this primal fact. Iémon's eyes wandered from the paper to the thief under torture. The dark green of the body was rapidly changing. The doctor present gave a quick frightened sign. Skilful hands at once cast loose the bonds. Over toppled the body. Iémon noted the white, almost livid, colour of death. Restoratives were applied. All were busied with bringing the man back to life. Then he was carried off, expression so unlike that of a human being that the less hardened shuddered. Said Homma--"No confession yet?" He raised his hand to make a sign. Iémon knew the quickness of response. He almost screamed his appeal for further respite. The Law had triumphed. As Iémon put his thumb seal to the confession of guilt to insolence (_futodoki_) the magistrates rose and disappeared. "Futodoki"--they and he knew that it meant the death sentence.[39] Judgment was not delayed. The next day Homma, with Katada and an officer of the Sho[u]gun's household present, gave sentence. Yoémon and Rokuro[u]bei glared hate at Iémon who squatted with head bent to the ground. The sword--that now was his only hope. The first words of Homma showed that no mercy was to be dealt out in this case. Suzuki the plebeian merely suffered stripes and banishment from Edo. He had to make restitution to the amount of his property--such as was left after paying the huge fine to Government. Tamiya Yoémon and Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei underwent degradation from the caste. There was no disposition to overlook the offence of usury. Beggary was to be the portion of Yoémon, the destitution of the outcast. For some years the senile old man, the virago of a woman once the wife of Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei, were stationed at the Nio[u]mon, to attract and amuse the worshippers passing up to the great temple of the Asakusa Kwannon. Not for long could the woman hold her tongue. Abuse passed with the sun's height to blows, and the by-standers had to interfere and rescue the old man from the severe beating. It was to the profit, rather than disadvantage, of the temple. The pair were an added attraction. The priests left interference to those at hand. Then the old man disappeared; to ornament the highway with his corpse, or be cast on the moor, food for dogs and crows. Such probably was the end of Tamiya Yoémon. The woman had not been seen for some months. Her abilities as scold had attracted those qualified to judge; her transfer to the position of bawd in a low-class house of the neighbouring Yoshiwara soon followed. Kondo[u] Rokuro[u]bei fared tolerably well, considering his deserts. His confession had been a great aid in unravelling the case. He was not sentenced to cut belly. Degraded he heard with dismay the sentence of deportation and exile to the far distant island of Sado. At this savage place, subject to the hell of a Siberian winter and the intense heats of the summer, the once pampered man lived out his last days, few and evil. He who had passed the time idling with tea-cup, or _go_, or flower arrangement, and taking enjoyment in the freshness and coolness of his garden at the Yotsuyazaka, at fifty years now tried to lead the hard and dangerous life of the wild fishing population among whom he was unceremoniously cast. Such life was soon forbidden him. He was but in the road. Then he did such clerical duties as the village at times needed. A wife even was provided for him. The final blow was a palsy, cutting off all effort at making a livelihood. Beatings now took the place of food. The villagers laughed when they heard of the old man's fall from a cliff. They, too, would have acted as had the brothers of O'Nabé (stew pan). They took the word for the deed; and at the cliff foot near Negai they erected a wooden shrine to propitiate the spirit of "Jiya Rokuro[u]." The day of execution had come. When sentenced, bound as he was Iémon struggled forward to plead for mercy, respite from the barbarous punishment to be inflicted on the traitor. His reward was the cangue and bamboo saw--_nokogirihiki_; failing death by this, he was to be crucified. The attendants fell on him. Kicks and blows had little effect on the man frantic with terror. He almost reached the _ro[u]ka_ at which sat Homma. Then madly struggling he was carried off to the jail. Said a _do[u]shin_--"His antics in the cangue will find small scope." The last clause of the sentence was due to the notorious unwillingness of any passer-by to give a cut. The punishment had lapsed since the days of the third Sho[u]gun, and was no more successful in Iémon's case. Placed in the cangue at the execution ground of Shinagawa a cut was made in each side of his neck. Smeared with blood the bamboo saw was placed on the cangue in inviting proximity to the head. For five hours people passed, with curious glances, but no movement to release the criminal. An Eta (outcast) butcher sidled up. The guards watched him with curiosity. Picking up the saw he made one pass. At the yell given by Iémon he dropped the implement and fled in terror, amid the laughter of guards and by-standers. Toward the hour of the sheep (1 P.M.) a _yoriki_ with his _do[u]shin_ appeared. On signal the cangue was removed. Inert limbs feebly twitching Iémon was bound tight to the double cross, his legs and arms stretched wide apart. This was raised, and again the hours passed in miserable waiting for a death which seemed to recede. If unconsciousness threatened he was given vinegar to drink as restorative. His fevered lips eagerly sought the fluid and prolonged his torture. In the spring light the days were long. As the sun was about to set the officer gave command. A _do[u]shin_ came forward to the cross and made a sign. A guard thrust his spear upward into the belly of Iémon. The limbs made a movement, as in attempt to be drawn up. A guard on the other side in turn made a thrust. Others followed. For some moments they continued their sport, the reward of long waiting. The man was not yet dead. Impatient the _do[u]shin_ gave the shaft of a spear a violent upward thrust. Its point appeared through the left shoulder. The head fell forward on the breast and hung limp. Iémon was dead. * * * * * These events could not be let pass without notice from either the pious or the timorous. Kyo[u]ho[u] 2nd year 2nd month 22nd day (3rd April, 1717) the Inari shrine built to propitiate the fearful Lady of Tamiya was opened to worship with due ceremonies. It had been erected on the ground of the house once occupied by Matazaémon, facing on Teramachi and on the narrow street paralleling Samoncho[u] to the East. It was almost opposite the entrance to the Sho[u]gwanji. At the family temple, the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji, on the Samégabashi side, a grave and stela was set up. With time, however, the opposition made itself felt. It was asserted that the Lady O'Iwa still walked the ward, inflicting pains and penalties on the inhabitants thereof. Triumphant reference was made to recent public disasters--of plague, pestilence, famine, and tax levies. The shrine was invitation for her presence. People had grown indifferent as the new paint grew old, then shabby on the once famous _miya_. Success lay with the opposition, and abolition of shrine and grave was easily enforced. It was but for a time. The ward was either equally, or more, unfortunate without the protection of its tutelary Inari shrine. Just when it was re-established cannot be stated, but in the late eighteenth century it was most flourishing. It was a favourite resort of _samurai_ women, seeking consolation for unfaithful or brutal conduct of their husbands, and strength in the reputation for chastity of the famous Lady of Tamiya. In 1825 the third Kikugoro[u] made Yotsuya famous by his presentation of the "Yotsuya Kwaidan" as written for the stage by Tsuruya Namboku (Katsu Byo[u]zo[u]). In the first years of the Meiji restoration period Shunkintei Ryuo[u], the famous story-teller, heralded its renown in the Shin Yoshiwara. O'Iwa San became a feature of the Konharuko[u] fête of that quarter. A grave was again erected to her at the Myo[u]gyo[u]ji. As she had no _kaimyo[u]_, or posthumous name, the rector of the temple gave her that of "Tokusho[u]-In Myo[u]nen Hisho[u] Daishi," which can be interpreted--"She, pleasing of disposition and earnest in prayer; a woman of greatest brilliance." Let the reader not judge this composition harshly; or its truth. The editor to the reproduction[40] of Ryuo[u]'s story speaks of his difficulties. Placed in his hand for judgment he saw at once the power of the tale. But--how avoid incurring the divine anger of the Yotsuya Inari; how avoid being charged with the divine punishment? This question was solved by the publisher assuming the burden of both inflictions; under the spur of what _he_ regarded as publication in inferior and untrue form. He answered these questions with a laugh--"Afraid? Not so: I, too, am human. Though the unusual is an object, yet I would not rejoice at incurring the divine anger by publishing what should not be published. Though the divine anger be incurred by publishing the Yotsuya Kwaidan, and the divine punishment be inflicted, yet who would not gladden the eyes and ears of the land? Hence in haste the true record is to be printed; owing to emission of unfounded stories. The true record being put forth, the people profit by it. How then is the divine wrath incurred by publication? Certainly not: the protection of the divine one is secured." The editor trusted in his argument; as does the present scribe. More than once the remark has been heard as to these shrines of Nippon--"Their temples? Those dirty, shabby places, without architecture or interest, the haunts of snotty, ragged children?" The sun-helmeted gentleman and lady, or collection of their kind, rush them by in haughty contempt, and with some ridicule and ridiculous comment. Good Sir and Madame, you are passing history on the road. At this Kwo[u]gwanji, in its rather shabby guest hall, Kusonoki Masashige and his devoted followers spoke their last defiance and then cut belly. Kobé? It is noted as a place to take ship, and not be too long in doing so. This other, barely a mile from the To[u]kyo[u]-Yokohama railway, is contemporary record of Nitta Yoshioka, who carved his bloody protest on the Ashikaga before he killed himself in the trap set by their treachery at this spot. Here behind the Ko[u]raiji near Oiso is a very shabby and tiny shrine nestled at the foot of the cliff. This had better be avoided. It is dedicated to the smallpox god. But more than history is neglected in the indifference and contempt shown these minor _miya_. A vein of thought inwoven into the minds of this strange people is instanced by this modest shrine of the Tamiya Inari. Wandering along the amusement quarter of some great city, a theatre is seen with a _torii_ gorgeous in its red paint standing before the entrance. Within this entrance is a small shrine and a box for the practical offerings of cash or commodities. The theatre is decorated inside and outside with flags as for a festival (_matsuri_). Such is actually in progress. The representation is that of the Yotsuya Kwaidan. From manager and actor (even in the presentation of the figured screen of the moving picture) the malevolence of the O'Iwa Inari--the Fox-witched O'Iwa--is to be averted. Hence all the signs of worship as at her very shrine; hence the unwillingness of author or publisher to handle the story, at least in its full form. This is but a remnant of the fear of "black magic" still found and practised in Nippon. On the beach at Kamakura at times can be found straw chaplets with gaudy cloth attached to the centre; a copper coin, and rice offering are accompaniments. Or such will be found at the crossroads of town or village, or on the Yokohama Bluff. Or in times of epidemic in numbers they are laid on the wayside shrine of the god of measles or other disease. The latter disposition conveys its own warning; the others are _majinai_ or charms by which it is hoped to transfer the disease to some other child, thus insuring the cure of the first sufferer. The coin has been rubbed on the body of the little patient. Dogs usually dispose of the food offering; and passing children are only too likely to pick up the nefarious coin. The road cleaner comes along at his rare intervals and sweeps the chaplet into the hole for refuse. It is to be regretted that the ignorance and malevolence indicated by these charms cannot as easily be gathered in and disposed of. With these remarks the Yotsuya Kwaidan and its tale of ill-fortune is brought to an end. YOKOHAMA, 5th June-4th July, 1916. FINIS APPENDICES A [In printed copies of the _gidayu_ the characters are to be distinguished by their theme, only the term _kotoba_ is used to mark a speaker. The shading into descriptive writing is at times vague. In the present translation the characters are indicated. The original figures in most _gidayu_ collections. Cf., "Gidayu Hyakuban," p. 271.] The Gidayu: Tsuruya Namboku was a writer of drama. Many are the persons called Namboku. The three preceding generations were actors who played in buffoon parts. In the fourth generation for the first time was taken up the literary work of play-writing. The Namboku in the fourth generation, Yo[u]myo[u] Genzo[u], later known as Inosuké, was born at Motohamacho[u]. The father carried on the business of _katatsuki_ dyer, (handling the cloth to be more or less gaily patterned). Anei 4th year (1775), entering at the Kanai Sansho[u] no Mon he (_Yo[u]myo[u]_) took the name of Katsu Byo[u]zo[u]. Later he received the name of Nan Tsuruya Boku. When he became a playwright he was about fifty years old. His plays are most ingenious, and are very numerous. Among them are the "Osome Hisomatsu," "Iro-yomi-uri," "Sumidagawa Hana Gosho[u]," "Yotsuya Kwaidan." In the playhouse they are known (collectively) as the "Namboku Mono." IÉMON SUMIKA NO DAN (Scene in the house of Iémon) Now to present it:--Already on that day--ko[u], ko[u]--the bell of sunset had issued its call. In the hedges were heard sounds of the swarms of insects. Still more lonely was the deserted mansion. O'Iwa, disturbed, anxious, when was her countenance to be open, her breast cleared of its darkness? She brought forth the _andon_; took out the sulphured slivers of wood from the box holding steel, flint, and tinder. In the depths of her husband's mind no flowers bloomed. She thought it was her woman's temperament that made her brood. In her anxiety she gave expression to her gloom: _O'Iwa_--"Truly as 'tis said, it is a fleeting world; the flowing of water the future of men. Before this I performed the service of the inner apartments of the Hosokawa House. The marriage! Connected in thought with Iémon Dono the honoured dismissal was requested, that I should become a bride. Without fortune is that Inosuké, heir of the master, such object of delight to bring him to maturity. In the end all affection is absent. Nerve-racked from birth, with the pains of child-birth, the blood clot, such sickness has seized upon me. Then suddenly--one without a home, shorn of all ornament. Overcome completely by the struggle, effort and end have culminated. Parent and child, husband and wife, these (relations) master this self. Detested is the fleeting world, gloomy one's existence." As she pondered, unbidden the tears mingled with her depression. Without restraint, gradually rising-rising-rising, mounted the flow of blood: _O'Iwa_--"Ah! Ah! Again the ever-present disease shows itself. Deign--a remedy! Oh! Oh! That! That! That same remedy of aforetime, stirred and mingled with pure water. Two sips, three sips; if one drinks poison--one becomes divine; life comes to an end, but pity is aroused." The curtain before the dressing room was gently raised. Without speaking Gombei seated himself close to O'Iwa. "Eh! Who is that? Iya! No one is announced. Hana, I say! Hana, I say! Oh! 'Tis he--of all men! Gombei San, has he come again? Vengeance is satisfied, no longer exists." As she would depart he held her sleeve to stop her. _Gombei_--"Ah! Ah! I say--please wait. A little while ago, at Iémon's coughing and clearing his throat, I was frightened away. Trembling, at that time I went round to the rear. Thinking him really absent, with stealth I have entered. The motive of a man lies at the bottom of the heart. Just think to grant me a little affection. Alas! Ma! Submitting it is deigned to hear what I have to say. Heigh! A woman like this, her whole mind on Iémon, she would be the chaste wife. But the affections of Iémon are elsewhere, far distant. Ya! Hoi! Hoi! Hoi! To fly! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Ho! Oh! Moreover the disposition of Gombei is not wicked. He seeks to be the husband. Other purpose there is none. Condescend to be easy in mind." But his words carry no weight. The face of O'Iwa in the light has a glare. _Gombei_--"As usual: Ma! One deeply distrustful. Iya! These matters, though in thought, are not to be put in words. The state of affairs is too urgent to be put into words. Sa! But I hear you say--'Iémon probably goes to Hachiman. Groundless all these censures.' Do you really believe this? The intrigue is with the only daughter of Okumura Kinai, by name Koúmé. She is indeed a beauty; whether one regard the shape of her face, her manners, or the carriage of her loins as if the willow of spring. The intimacy with Iémon could go no further. The proof spoken of is here. This letter--the sealed envelope: it fell from the sleeve of Iémon. Stealthily I picked it up, by accident. Now then! Whereabouts is it? A lengthy thing--Sa! Let's see what's in it. The coquettishness of the sentences! But let's see what she does say. Eh! What's that? 'The night is source of pleasure. Great the pleasure at sight of you. With compliments.' Assuredly there can be no mistake, when she talks this way--'The day comes. Soon we will be husband and wife; morning and night to be at your service. With compliments.'[41]--'Thus are the gods invoked. With compliments.' Eh! What's this? 'When distant from your side but for a moment, painful Time's course. Place this signature next your very person (_hadaka_).'--'To-night--come quickly; your advent is awaited. With compliments.' What a miserable creature is this! Is she not? But there's still more. 'O'Iwa Sama and matters with her, this is a punishment due to offence in a previous existence. Condescend to be relieved in mind. Be sure thus to view it. The spiteful brush (pen) stops. With compliments.'--'It is hard (my lot); very hard. With compliments.'--'The honoured master comes; the ever-present desire.' How now, O'Iwa Sama? Sa! Is there no outbreak as to this? The occasion is no pleasing one. Is there no harsh remark forthcoming as to one who holds illicit intercourse with the husband of another? Eh! You are a woman of marvellous patience! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! At all events say what you think. 'As yet in this matter, as yet in this affair, you are certain of nothing.' Is that it? That Koúmé and her mother plot together. Eh; but she has a beautiful face! And you--you are bloated, eyes wide distended, one side of the face caved in, the hair of the head all fallen out. That--and that--how describe the ugliness of your face! The affection of Iémon has worn out. Ah! What is the name of that poisonous drug, begged of Suian until secured? That, too, has been learned. Oh! Fearful, fearful, fearful! This is to act as one without care. Life is not something which lasts forever. Send from this house dismissal to Iémon, the act of separation. This the finality! Surely the intrigue is proved. Mere thought, easily exhausted, is to no purpose. Make up your mind; express your feelings. At all events your reputation is preserved. Act and decide as one indifferent. More and more have in mind the _susuki_ of Masuo. Deign to yield. Do this--just this--O'Iwa Dono!" _O'Iwa_--"No! and always, No! Firm the stand taken. In no way is this to be endured--to be endured. To hate a person is unreasonable; 'tis unjust. But--the embracing arms, the closely clinging, this is to act the lover." With fingertips she thrust him off. Angry the tears; her voice trembled. _O'Iwa_--"Ya! 'A woman, and the object of contempt; one treated by her lord with rudeness beyond measure. The husband has become wearied. Here's the proof. Are you a woman lacking sense?' One so unmeasurably rude--out with you! One's whole frame vibrates with passion. At one's very feet, the fact is made plain. Quick--away with you! Delay--and this shall be the guerdon." With violence she drew the dagger of Kosuké. Gombei, wicked as he was, weakened forthwith. _Gombei_--"Eh! Treated thus one's purpose is brought to naught. Listen now to reason, self-willed as you are. A little while, and it will not be the time for a snarling face. Very well: notice is given that soon your spirit will be broken. The petition is lodged at the Daikwan's office. There will be difficulty in gathering principal and interest. Just wait." He said these words on leaving, ready to make a bolt of it. With _zo[u]ri_ (sandal) on one foot and a wooden clog (_geta_) on the other rapidly he ran away. Left alone O'Iwa rose in haste. To the conflagration burning in her bosom, was added the fuel of a woman's temperament. If it were true! How learn? Pondering over the details filled her with anxiety. _O'Iwa_--"Ah! Ah! Ill feeling seeks to destroy--already it turns to wickedness. Gombei's face betrayed him. His talk was specious. At sight of the letter he read the doubting heart learns the truth. Burdensome the knowledge for one's heart. The mind tastes the bitterness of adversity. The hair of the head, behind the temples, is affected by the feelings. To draw out the dressing stand to hand: the little combs of willow, where are they? Sorrow effects change; as does entanglements of the heart. The fine-toothed comb which holds the thousand strands of hair--how now! It has been forgotten." Again she took up the hair. To get it out of the way she took the front hair in both hands, making space to see. _O'Iwa_--"Alas! I fail to understand. To-day the vertigo is more pronounced than usual; especially with the hair like this. Did sickness cause the loss?" As she spoke, she drew the cover from the mirror. Reflected in it was a face to inspire fear. Ha! Frightened, she rose and drew back. Though she looked around her--there was no one. Alas! How strange! Thus she stood. Then leaning forward carefully she scanned the mirror. "Ya! Ya! Since when has my face been like this? It is completely altered." As if she could repair the ravages to self and features squint-eyed she stood and gazed. To sight she seemed a woman of evil. "Hai! Ha!" She fell prostrate. "How now! How pitiful!" Like one crazed she arose. Her body writhed in pain, at the pit of the stomach. These stomach pains, of frequent occurrence, now seized her. Thus long she lay writhing where she was. While she twisted in agony; knowing nothing of what has happened, and hearing the wheedling voice of a crying child, Kosuké had returned and was at the entrance. _Kosuké_--"Honoured lady, long have you been kept waiting. The honoured priest had matter to relate. In Yotsuya I went from this place to that, in effort to coax supply. But just now.... Is she suckling the child?" While speaking he drew close--"In the meantime the honoured illness has developed beyond measure. After retiring for the night you walk in your sleep. Eh! Deign to be a little prudent." Softly the child came to her side. On seeing in what agony she was: _Kosuké_--"Ya! Alas! Alas! Have you again one of those hysterical attacks, now so frequent? Okusama! I say!" To restore her from the fit to consciousness he raised her in his arms. Regarding with attention her frightful appearance: _Kosuké_--"Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! This face of the Okusama: Ma! What can be the matter?" He staggered in bewilderment. _Kosuké_--"How changed! The Danna is absent. Heigh-ho! Ma! How has this occurred? What can be done? The cold water in the kettle here...." Opening her mouth he made her swallow a mouthful. He placed his mouth to her ear. _Kosuké_--"Okusama! Your ladyship!" Gently he stroked her back. Thus nursed, the breath of the heartbroken O'Iwa faintly returned. _O'Iwa_--"Hei! Has Kosuké returned? Why do you stroke me thus? I had but gone to sleep, just now." "Oh! Oh!" said he--"Ma! Ma! How joyful. Ah! Iya! I say, Okusama; how long have you been in that state? Your face inspires fear." At his question again she was the woman. The tears in her breast rose high and overflowed. For a time she did not answer. When a little calm: _O'Iwa_--"Deign then to listen. As usual Iémon Dono went forth to worship at Hachimangu[u]. Subsequently my vertigo was too pronounced. Two or three drinks were taken of the medicine prescribed by Suian Dono. Secretly at the rear entered Naosuké no Gombei, to make illicit courtship. Various were his pleas. Thus--Iémon Dono was deeply in love with the daughter of Okumura. The worship (_kami-mairi_) was all a lie. He was contracted to Koúmé. Hence his affection for me was at an end. This change was due to the drug. Hear what is to be done. Love unrequited is to be satisfied by revenge. Thus did Gombei put the matter. But it is not likely that my husband is so cruel. Heart again will turn to heart. The attack of vertigo was strong. The hair was pulled out. Moreover, suddenly the face became altered.... My appearance: Ma! Gombei then did not lie. By the plotting of the Okumura, parent and child, I have drunk poison. They have an understanding with Suian. Eh! At the thought--at the thought--anger rises. My husband, a man of note, with him she commits adultery. Hence the hatred of these people. Since the poison has been quaffed; as serpent, as demon, none shall be my equal. The Okumura, parent and child, are you the kind thus to act!" Suddenly she sprang up, and would have dashed out at the front. At her act the frightened Kosuké put his arms around and stopped her. _Kosuké_--"Heigh! Heigh! I say, Okusama! The expression of your face has changed. Heigh-ho! Whither away? Alas! It is plain that she would go to the _yashiki_ of Okumura. Evil her purpose. She would confute the malice spoken by Koúmé, by parent and child. She would fetch away with her Iémon Dono. Iya! Ho, there! Your honoured judgment strays. She believes in what Gombei has said; that he is with the Okumura. Does she not remember times past, the reproof of the Danna? Sa! As before! As before! As before! Put on outward seeming. Deign to be calm. No! No! No! Though there be shame; display a smile. Do but this. The prudence of the lady carries the day. The colour, the perfume, of the flower has no effect. Sa! She won't stop! She will go! Thither she will take her way! The conflagration of her wrath is in her glare. She goes, and Kosuké remains behind!" At a sound she looked around. The little boy was weeping bitterly at his mother's state. The tie of blood, her affection, prevailed. _O'Iwa_--"Oh! Bonka! Bonka! Bonka! The pretty fellow grieves." She drew near to embrace him. Earnestly he looked in his mother's face. _Child_--"Iya! Iya! My lady mother is not like this. I'm afraid! I'm afraid!" Weeping, the little boy dropped from her knee. "Bei-yo! Please call my real lady mother." _O'Iwa_--"Aré! Aré! Aré! Deign to hear that! In heart children are without discernment. My appearance changed, he fears the presence of his mother. To her side he will not approach. How, how comes this face! Meeting with Iémon Dono one would think--one would think--my very self meets with retribution for some deed done in a past existence. Husband and beloved child--alas! they avoid my sight." With lamentable cries she wept. Kosuké, too, was moved, and joined in her tears. O'Iwa again inspected the appearance of her face. _O'Iwa_--"To continue living thus in the world would be one unending shame. Dying the grudge will be repaid. Holding thus the skirt prevents my leaving. This must not be. To that place I go." As the two struggled the girdle (_obi_) came loose. The contest was brought to an end. At this juncture returned Hamiya Iémon. He had little disposition to enter his home. Thus unexpectedly, without premeditation, the two came face to face. Mutually they gazed at each other. "Ho! The Danna: good day." Kosuké remained where he was, uneasily twisting. O'Iwa clasped tight the breast of her husband's coat. "Heigh! Iémon Dono." _O'Iwa_--"Complete has been the silence toward me. Every night, every night, polluted. With Koúmé have pillows been exchanged." Speech and voice vibrated with jealousy. She glared at him. Without showing alarm: _Iémon_--"Ma! I don't understand. This way of acting is unusual. Why look like that? In that manner painful the change in appearance."--"Why? Why? Eh! You pretend ignorance. You pretend ignorance of the joyful result. By the artifice of Koúmé, of parent and child, in unison with Suian, a poisonous drug has been given me to drink. By this means I am made unrecognizable. Would that never I had been born, to live so deformed ... all due to the feeling aroused in these people. Sa! Sa! Sa! Restore my former appearance! Bewitched, seized by anxious care, it remains but to withdraw." _Iémon_--"Ya! What mad talk! In my absence, loosening the cord of the _obi_, secretly you indulge your lewdness. Detected by the master's eye, disloyal as you are, death is the weighty punishment. Make ready!" At hearing the unjust proposal the upright Kosuké with tears held tight his knees. _Kosuké_--"Heigh! Danna Sama. Iya! I say, Iémon Dono! This Kosuké an adulterous fellow? Heigh-ho! It is unreasonable! Unreasonable! Unreasonable! You speak for your own purpose. I, the mere servant, have been to call the honoured priest to the Yotsuya. Returning home I found the Okusama unconscious. When she learned the true state of affairs the Okusama would have rushed forth. To stop her I seized the end of the _obi_. And that is to be unchaste! Iya! A paramour--heigh-ho! That is too much! Too much! Too much! It is to go to excess. Truly, truly, for these years and months you have gone forth in the world. Such has been your conduct. You have allowed a sight of you--at the Bon Matsuri, at the New Year, in accidental meetings on the street when on some mission. Why! The very dogs bark--the honoured constables of the night watch--eh! they administer reproof." _O'Iwa_--"Lamentable the distress. How many times! Sleepless the nights--the time when one should slumber. But this does not move him. Hence the unkindness of his speech." _Kosuké_--"Eh! He don't listen. Danna Dono, beating the _tatami_ one weeps with regret." O'Iwa forthwith sprang up in haste--sprang up--sprang up. "Superior is the concubine to the lady wife. Below the basely mean is one placed. In the relation of husband and wife, the thought is to treat the husband with respect. Such is the duty of woman. To you the poverty and distress are not displayed. Obtaining her means to live by washing and occasional tasks, yet the wife is discarded. The sum total of the sunshine transforms the flowers; invisible their change. Regardless of self-distrust of the past is put aside. But you act with cruel motive; a grudge as lasting as a night without moonlight. From the clouds the drizzle falls on bamboo and on village. And between the intervals of rain there is naught but weeping." Iémon refused to listen: _Iémon_--"Ya! Mere excuses these; mere excuses these. In the master's absence the cord of the _obi_ is loosed. Madly you go your rounds. The lewdness is evident. Sa! Make honest confession." At the outrageous words of the husband the voice of O'Iwa trembled still more: _O'Iwa_--"Eh! 'Tis your own sin you would conceal. Regardless of self you would impute evil reputation to me. Having driven me out, you would make Koúmé your wife. But by that you shall gain nothing. Miserable one! Unblushingly do you join in the hate of the Okumura, parent and child?" With a rapid motion she snatched his dagger. She half turned: _Iémon_--"Ya! Whither? Whither? Here one must pick one's words. This is not the time to inquire into the facts. Iya! Iya! Iya! Where do you go?" At their quarrel Kosuké was perplexed. Said the child in troubled voice: _Child_--"Honoured mother--where go ye? Honoured father--forbearance, patience." He clung to their garments in kindness and affection. The eyes of the two in Shurado[u] (Hell of fighting) were blinded. On this side and that they pulled at the scabbard of the sword. In the wrestling, the springing in and recoil, the sword slipped from the scabbard. Without intention to five or six inches it pierced the shoulder. Atto! The wife fell--"Namu Sambo[u]!"[42] Plucking out the sword O'Iwa cast it aside. By the action of retributive fate the point of the weapon pierced the chest of Kosuké. The wound was fatal. Seven revolutions and a fall: alas! he was dying. Close under his feet the blow of Iémon had reached the child. With but a single cry forthwith he died. At the accident the husband was at a loss what to do. He stood stupified. With difficulty O'Iwa rose from the ground. _O'Iwa_--"Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho! Heigh-ho! You would kill me! Oh! Since you would kill, put into deed the ardent wish. Wretch! An idea--Koúmé, the parent and child: these are to be seized and put to death. Be it so!" With eyes of hate, her hair fallen down, jealously glaring, in appearance she was just like a female devil. Blood curdling, she inspired fear. The husband gave vent to his inner thought: _Iémon_--"Though one kill without intent, yet the brandishing of the sword is one's own deed, one's very act. It is the punishment of Heaven for unchastity and jealousy. Bear it in mind." At the cruel words Kosuké, drawing painful breath: _Kosuké_--"Eh! To us, to us, to us, such speech applies not. Unkind, unrighteous, is this death punishment. There is naught to compare to it. Very wicked and unprincipled, surely you are possessed of a devil! Seldom is the life of a serving man grudged him; unconsidered as he is. Forgetful, the evil reputation of lechery is attached, and death the portion. Eh! How regrettable! The sight is unseemly. 'Twas you who inflicted the wound! To the Okusama also, evil the name. Thus, without intention, the end of your life is not witnessed by your child." _Iémon_--"By the hand of another your wound, by one your parent! On my part--on my part--had I aught to do with this? Heigh! Am I not grieved? Eh! Cold? Unfeeling? A wound to myself could not pain more." Vainly writhing he raised and embraced the body of the child. As sadly he lamented, O'Iwa crawled up close. Tightly her arms clasped the dead body of her child. _O'Iwa_--"Alas! Alas! Inosuké! Inosuké! The selfishness of your father; the temperament of the mother; foolish their thoughts. Thus have you ended life.... How great is the grudge. Heigh! Exercise forbearance! Exercise forbearance! Deign to show forbearance. Parent and child are related for but one life, 'tis said. Now separated, again in what world will there be meeting? Men are born into the wide world. There is such a thing as sympathy, 'tis said. Before your eyes lie _kerai_ (retainer), wife, and child. Now, on the very brink of time, not once do you recite the Buddha's name. Abandon your inordinate desires. Is your heart that of a demon? Eh! A snake? Cruel and cold to your wife, you reckon up your various hates. With Kosuké I am the one to lament. Tears overflow. Steady the fall of rain of Yo[u]suji, of _sumidare_ (the rainy season). When dying the chief of birds vomits forth blood with his song: so I." _Iémon_--"Ya! The song she sings inspires no regret. A prayer said and the child enters Nirvana. Namu Amida Butsu! As for these two--I would kill them by inches; as they twisted, and staggered, and fell grasping at the air, and in every way showed their agony. In the next world may they meet with a mountain set with sharp-edged swords, so cruel as to inspire pity." Just then came running to the front entrance Suian. He gasped for breath: "Heigh! Heigh! Iémon Dono!" _Suian_--"O'Iwa Dono's appearance has changed. It was the drug, our own secret nostrum, administered at request of the honoured mother of Okumura. Though sorrow was felt, unexpected the good luck in killing the honoured wife. Henceforth come out openly. Who would not drain the _saké_ cups with Koúmé Dono! The three lands (China, India, Japan) are the inheritance of one who was but an adopted son. All in good order! All in good order! All in good order! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Sa! To set about it at once." The husband concealed tears of regret for past conduct. _Iémon_--"Plain it is that wife, child, and _kerai_, though deserving compassion, have found death. 'Twas determined by fate in a previous existence. But to obviate fear of future disaster, though not the original purpose, the dead bodies of these two are to be nailed to a door panel, with the inscription--'unchaste and jealous.' Let them float away on the current of the Nenashigawa. The entrance of the house is close to the inner room. Make ready: it will be best to leave by the rear. Quick! Quick! But...." _Suian_--"It happens that the neighbor Dansuké comes." He bent and peeped through the entrance. "Dansuké! Dansuké!" Dansuké Mizuo in presence, mouth to ear he was informed. "Namu! Namu! Namu! Namu!" He nodded consent. The two men talked in whispers. The dead bodies of the two (O'Iwa and Kosuké) were carried into the inner room. For some time Naosuké Gombei had been watching what went on, peeping out and listening. He appeared from the shadow. _Gombei_--"Yai! Unjustly have the blameless wife and _kerai_ been punished by Hamiya Iémon. Complaint is to be made at the Daikwan's court." When he would rush forth he was pulled back by the girdle (_obi_). "Ya! Ya! Whither would you go? There is matter of importance to hear."--"The intent is plain. You would kill me." One had the long sword of the soldier. Two or three passes and he was nearly cut down by the skill of Hamiya. When he tried to flee, from behind he received a cut through the shoulder. It finished him. Then he (Iémon) would hide the dead body of his child from the eyes and reproach of men. Close at hand was a heavy stone trough. For funeral rites--"Namu Amida Butsu!" Into the well crib he threw it. Aré! Marvellous! Suddenly the house creaked and trembled. From somewhere came swarms of rats. Heigh! Incomprehensible! Iémon wavered. Singling him out they flew and seized him. Sha! Confused he slashed in attempt to drive them off. Lightning blazed around the sword; many phosphorescent lights--in wreaths, double, triple. To the end of the worlds his retribution. Thus the causes, origins, are made known of what remains as the Yotsuya Kwaidan. END OF THE GIDAYU [It can be noted that Japanese thought and expression are not very different from that of the West. An idea perhaps can be obtained from this _gidayu_ as to why the native waxes enthusiastic over the pose and vivid gestures of the _geisha_, who is the one to interpret these dramatic recitations. To her falls the "_kotoba_." The descriptive lines are recited by a chorus to the harsh and effective twang of the _samisen_. The _samisen_ may not afford music, but it can give expression to the emotional in feeling. The _gidayu_ recitation is a favourite art with the Go Inkyo[u] Sama. Symposia are held, before which the old gentleman recites, often enough without chorus; for he, and the _geisha_, at times have to fill the rôle both of "_kotoba_" and chorus, modulating the voice according to the theme. Symposia is not an unbefitting term. Meetings are held for public competition in _gidayu_ recitation; but in the privacy of one's circle and hobby the banquet is an important feature--at least to the guests. In his history of "Japanese Literature" (Dai Nihon Bungaku Shi, pp. 591-596) Suzuki Cho[u]ko[u] gives a long extract from the play, as sample of Tsuruya's powers as a dramatist. Adopted into the House of the actor Tsuruya Namboku, and marrying his daughter, Katsu Byo[u]zo[u] in turn assumed the name Tsuruya Namboku.] B [In the original the story by Momogawa Jakuen is found in the Kwaidan Hyaku Monogatari, vol. ii, p. 83 (Kokkwado[u]-To[u]kyo[u]). This collection has already been referred to, as sketching a number of the best known Japanese _kwaidan_. The present example furnishes a specimen of _ko[u]dan_ style, and has application to the present subject. It also instances how the Japanese stage boldly faces situations, the exigencies of which call for the greatest adaptation and facility on the part of actor and stage manager. The "Yotsuya Kwaidan" in the stage representation presents a number of critical scenes in which both qualities are severely strained. Rapid metamorphosis is a _sine qua non_. And it is effected--somehow.] The _ko[u]dan_: ONOÉ KIKUGORO[U] NO YU[U]REI From former times and generations the Otowa[43] House held a monopoly in the representation of ghosts. Its representative in the fifth generation was the most skilful of all at spectres. This man of the third generation lived at Muko[u]jima no Terajima. He was commonly called Terajima no Kikugoro[u]; his stage name was Baiko[u]. This man's daughter was the mother of the fifth generation. Thus it can be seen that he was the maternal grandfather of this fifth representative. This third Kikugoro[u] was the first to act the Yotsuya Kwaidan, in Bunsei 8th year 7th month (14th August-13th September, 1825) at the Nakamura-za (theatre). The author was the noted Tsuruya Namboku, who constructed the very famous "To[u]kaido[u] Yotsuya Kwaidan." O'Iwa San, the attendant (_wakato[u]_) Kohei, and Enya no Ro[u]nin Sato[u] Yo[u]mo Shichi, these parts fell to Kikugoro[u]. Matsumoto Koshiro[u], he who strutted it at the Ko[u]raiya, did the Naosuké Gombei. Iémon was the part of the seventh Danjuro[u]; later Ebizo, who was the real father of the ninth of the name. The staging of O'Iwa Sama includes--1st scene, the combing of the hair; 2nd scene, the Sunamura Ombo[u]bori; 3rd scene, Iémon ill in the dark room at Hebiyama; 4th scene, the _yashiki_ of Naosuké Gombei at Fukagawa Sankaku. O'Iwa appears at the scene of the combing of the hair as mentioned, in the incident where the guests are received, and in the 3rd scene at Hebiyama. Iémon is ill. Splitting apart the lantern set out during the Festival of the Dead (Bon Matsuri) the ghost of O'Iwa appears with the child in her embrace. Iémon receives them as would a stone Jizo[u]. O'Iwa, at sight of the fright of Iémon, laughs--ki, ki, ki. At once they fade away; and at once the ghost of Kohei the _wakato[u]_ takes her place, he who was charged with unchaste conduct with O'Iwa. It was the part of the performer to please the uninitiated by some strenuous effort. The first performance at this theatre was for three months--from the seventh to the ninth month. On consideration the drama is of interest. O'Iwa is killed at Yotsuya. With the dead body of the _wakato[u]_ Kohei she is fastened to a door, and from the rear the scoundrel sets them adrift. Fishing at Ombo[u]bori, Iémon sees them float by. From Yotsuya to Sunamura is a very great distance. It would occupy a woman's legs for the space of a day; or faint-hearted fellows, water drinkers, such of the kind as would try it. Winding along what rivers, by what intersecting canals had they floated here? In no way does one conceive. All the more the reasons influencing the author's design are not known. Very interesting is the story, to the cheerful character, and those not to be chilled by apparitions. At all events they get to Ombo[u]bori? The third Kikugoro[u], the first to take the part of O'Iwa, was a superlative actor, skilled in capturing the people. In the third scene, the dark room at Hebiyama, the ghost comes forth from the _Bon_ lantern. Every day the _kozo[u]_ (man or boy as apprentice) of the utility shop in Asakusa Umacho[u] slowly took down the lantern covered with white paper. In a straight line, before the eyes of all, he passed along Kuramaédo[u]ri, crossing Asakusa. From Yokoyamacho[u] he crossed to Daimaru no Mae. Passing through Norigyo[u]cho[u] he reached the Nakamura-za in Sakaicho[u]. As he passed along these streets crowded with people, the eyes of men were attracted: _No. 1_--"Every day, every day, the _kozo[u]_ goes by carrying that _Bon_ lantern. Where does he go?" _No. 2_--"He? Kikugoro[u] now is playing O'Iwa Sama at the Nakamura-za. The ghost issues from that _Bon_ lantern. The lantern used is brought every day by the _kozo[u]_." _No. 1_--"Ha! A practical application. We must be sure and go see." Through this advertisement the guests came readily. As fact, every day but the one _Bon_ lantern was used. Split apart, it was repaired. From the first day, up to the performances of a thousand autumns, one lantern answered all purposes. Truly Kikugoro[u] was more than a clever actor. He was wonderful in securing the good will of people. No actor was equal to him. Tradesmen, Government officials, learned men, refined people--he was skilful at gaining their support. Hence he did not lack money. His _status_ did not affect him. When as usual the _Bon_ lantern one day was to be carried out, Kikugoro[u] made his pupil Onozo[u] the bearer. Said Kikugoro[u]: _Kikugoro[u]_--"Onozo[u], don't I frighten you somewhat in this shape?" _Onozo[u]_--"I'm not in the least frightened. Every day acting as your assistant I'm not afraid." _Kikugoro[u]_--"What? Not afraid? Say that you're afraid." _Onozo[u]_--"Patron, that is unreasonable. One not afraid--is not afraid. Hence it cannot be helped." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Anyhow, say you are afraid." _Onozo[u]_--"I'm not at all afraid." _Kikugoro[u]_--"An obstinate rascal, this." While speaking--_pokari_, he gave _Onozo[u]_ a whack on the head. As it was he went through the performance. Coming to the green room, at once he called Onozo[u]. _Kikugoro[u]_--"Fool and low fellow." _Onozo[u]_--"Why is it then you would strike a fool and low fellow with a stick?" _Kikugoro[u]_--"You are just like a fool. A little while ago when told to be afraid of me, you would not say you were afraid." _Onozo[u]_--"Patron, that is to be unreasonable. I attend you. Every day I see you." _Kikugoro[u]_--"I know you are not afraid. But you are the very one who acts as my attendant. In public you are to look at me as one frightened beyond measure. If this be not widely published, will not the theatre be deserted? An actor who is good only at acting, he is not to be called a clever man. He must draw people. Fool and low fellow!" _Onozo[u]_--"Naruhodo! Since you say it--I'm afraid." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Your answer now is to the purpose." Hence on considering the matter, was not Kikugoro[u] in every way a talented man? For the space of eighty days this theatre turned away guests. Later, in Tempo[u] 7th year 7th month (12th August to 11th September, 1836) again this drama was produced. The actor was the same as at the previous production. On this occasion Kikugoro[u] took thought. As it was the second time, it must be changed in presentation to an audience. _Do[u]mo!_ There was the coming on of the ghost. It is clad in a grey robe. If O'Iwa wears a grey robe, and the _wakato[u]_ Kohei wears a grey robe, both being the same to view this would fail to interest. He continually worried. Nevertheless it would not do to wear armour; and a ghost in _kami-shimo_[44] raises no chill. Some contrivance must be hit upon. Day and night the matter worried him. Habitué of the gallery of this Morita-za was a man named Tsutaya no Yoshi, commonly known as Tsutayoshi. An extraordinarily dissolute fellow he borrowed to the four sides and eight directions. At this time in the Yoshiwara Sumicho[u] was a tenement placed in the rear of the prostitute houses. He removed thither, and soothed his troubles by living alone. His face washed in the morning, at once he ran forth. He ate his meals at a cheap eating house. A varied meal consumed he made his way to the Morita-za. Lunch was eaten in the theatre. On the return he took a drink and then went home. In truth he was a lively fellow. The Yotsuya Kwaidan had just been determined on for the close of the sixth month (July). At sundown he returned to his home in the Yoshiwara. On the way he drank--the strongest of liquors. At once he hung up the mosquito net and went inside. Not knowing front from rear he went to sleep. Pressed by a necessity the sound of the wooden clappers (_hyoshigi_) made him open his eyes. It was the harlot quarter, the 9th hour and more (after 3 A.M.), and the liveliness of the night was over. The quiet of the place inspired fear. From evening he had not stirred from the mosquito net, but had slept. The light had gone out, and it was pitch dark. Soundly had he slept. In the jar was fresh water for drinking. Greedily he drank. _Yoshi_--"I have slept--in a way to cause fear. It is now past the 9th hour. I still can sleep without stint." Again he entered the net. He drew the tobacco box close to his pillow head. He would smoke. Looking toward the _andon_, beneath it, faintly outlined, he saw somebody. _Yoshi_--"Who is there? This place used to be a brothel. Now it is a tenement. I rent it. It don't do to have it taken for a brothel. Oi! You--whence do you come?" At the words--he! It disappeared. _Yoshi_--"I say now! A marvellous thing--that over there. A kind of dream--extraordinary: I don't remember having a grudge with anyone. Yai! If the spirit which just came entertains a grudge I have never even dreamed of such. I am a dissolute fellow, but remember no grudge with anyone." Thus loud and wrathfully he shouted out. As one without fear he went to sleep. Waking up, the next day he left the house to go to the hot bath in Umacho[u]. On the way he breakfasted. Then he went to the Morita-za. Although the performance had not begun, as it was a first representation the theatre was crowded with people. Said a friend: _Friend_--"Yoshi San, the colour of your face is bad. Are you affected by the heat?" _Yoshi_--"Liking strong spirits, I feel badly. Moreover, last night a strange thing was witnessed. I feel out of sorts." _Friend_--"What was it?" _Yoshi_--"In the middle of last night I opened my eyes. Dimly outlined beside the lantern (_andon_) sat a rascal; some fellow who had been amusing himself at a neighbouring brothel. I thought that being drunk with wine he had come there by mistake. 'Who are you?' Thus I shouted. It disappeared. _Do[u]mo!_ It was a strange occurrence. Was it a ghost, thought I? I could remember no grudge with another person. Anyhow, in all likelihood it is no ghost, thought I. However I look at it, I don't understand." _Friend_--"Hei! Yoshi San, it was your own imagination." _Yoshi_--"Though I considered it a vision of my own, as strange I mention it." _Friend_--"If you feel bad it will be well to stay away for to-night." _Yoshi_--"I don't think I feel badly in any other way. To-night--for the whole night--I'll make the test." That day he returned to the Yoshiwara house. That night no one was seen. But when he did see it, was the thing a matter of his own imagination? The next day he came to the theatre. The friend was waiting for him. _Friend_--"Yoshi San, did it appear at night?" _Yoshi_--"Iya! At night it did not appear. In the middle of the night opening my eyes I looked with especial care to the eight sides. Nothing that could be considered suspicious was to be seen." _Friend_--"Then it was as I said. It being at one time a brothel, would not something appear in this house? Having this wholly in mind, the thing presented itself to your eyes." _Yoshi_--"Doubtless it is but that; a freak of the imagination." That night returning to the Yoshiwara, nothing happened. A space of five nights passed. His habit was to return early; and as his thin dress was wet with sweat he would change it. Going upstairs he took out the thin garment from the clothes-basket (_tsuzura_). With this in hand he was about to descend. Now as at one time the place had been a brothel the steps were broad and wide. Seated on the lower step, lying face downward, was somebody. _Yoshi_--"Ah! Has it come?" Being a courageous fellow, while speaking he raised his leg. _Yoshi_--"You're in the way." Pon: he gave a kick. There was not the slightest resistance. Forthwith--ha! it was gone. _Yoshi_--"_Do[u]mo!_ Remarkable: it is a strange occurrence." While speaking he changed his robe and lit the fire. Making the water boil, with Echizen peat he heated some wine he had bought on the road and brought home with him. With _tsukudani_,[45] or something of that kind to eat, he drank and thought. _Yoshi_--"To-day it is no product of my imagination. Who can that rascal be?" Talking to himself, he drank the _saké_. Attending to preliminaries he would go to bed. He went to the necessary and opened the door. Some one stood there, with his back to him. _Yoshi_--"Here again?" At the words it disappeared. No matter how brave he was, that night he felt badly and did not sleep. Awaiting dawn he was quick to go forth. On coming to the theatre-- _Friend_--"Good day: how goes it with Yoshi San? Are you not very much out of tone?" _Yoshi_--"At night it came. Moreover it appeared twice." _Friend_--"Did it appear?" _Yoshi_--"At first it was seated on the stair. The second time it was inside the necessary." _Friend_--"Hei! That is marvellous. Probably it is the work of fox or badger (_tanuki_)." This talk abruptly terminated. Tsutayoshi was a bold fine fellow. Unmoved, he retired to his own home in the Yoshiwara. After that nothing was seen for several days. Just as he was forcing a way into the theatre-- _Man_--"Yoshi San! At the Bairin (Plum Tree) over the way is the master of Otowaya. He is urgent to see you; so he says. It will be well to go at once." _Yoshi_--"Was he told I was here?" _Man_--"Ah!" _Yoshi_--"How annoying! The Otawaya San has lent me money. _Do[u]mo!_ A meeting, 'tis bad news." _Man_--"As nothing was said about it--go. Surely the return of the loan is not involved." _Yoshi_--"It's not to be avoided. I'll go and see." Opposite to the theatre was the tea house called the "Bairin." He went in. _Yoshi_--"Good-day." _Maid_--"Oya! Yoshi San. As the master of Otowaya is waiting upstairs for you, just condescend to go up." _Yoshi_--"Ah! Is that so? Condescend to pardon." Don, don, he climbed the stairs. At the end of a six-mat room was a man fanning himself. He was alone. It was Kikugoro[u], the third of the name. He had been noted as a handsome man. However, at this time he was an old man. The white summer garb of that very fine quality of cloth-grass known as _jo[u]fu_ was girded in by a _chakenjo[u] obi_.[46] Of his profession there was not a hint. _Kikugoro[u]_--"Sa! Yoshi San, come here, please." _Yoshi_--"The patron: _do[u]mo_! truly it has been rude not to come and see you. I have not crossed the threshold." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Iya! Why speak so? You now live in the Yoshiwara." _Yoshi_--"That is so; for a long time I lived in Fukiyacho[u]. The neighbourhood was a bad one. I had borrowed money. It was like running away in the night. A one-time brothel now the rent is ridiculously cheap. _Mikoshi_ (carriages) are kept in it now." _Kikugoro[u]_--"The Yoshiwara is a gay place. For people who would amuse themselves there is none superior. It is an excellent locality." _Yoshi_--"One can find whatever is desired." _Kikugoro[u]_--"So Yoshi San, now you live alone." _Yoshi_--"Hai! I'm alone." _Kikugoro[u]_--"I've just heard the talk of people. A ghost appears at your place." _Yoshi_--"Who said such a thing?" _Kikugoro[u]_--"Iya! It was heard, by accident. Is it true?" _Yoshi_--"Hai! First it was seen beside the _andon_; then on the stairway, and in the necessary." _Kikugoro[u]_--"A strange matter! Is it man or woman?" _Yoshi_--"_Do[u]mo!_ That I don't know. It was seen as in a mist. Whether man or woman, I don't know." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Are there male and female ghosts?" _Yoshi_--"Male or female--I know nothing about it." _Kikugoro[u]_--"What its nature? When it appears this time, condescend to take a good look at it." He continued (then)--"The present drama of the Yotsuya Kwaidan--as to my part, as you well know, O'Iwa and Kohei before the very eyes must change places in an instant. For both to wear the grey _kimono_ lacks interest. Which of them is to change? It is on my mind. _Do[u]mo!_ Thought fails to solve the question. Hence the request to you. What kind of dress does that ghost wear? That is what I want to learn." _Yoshi_--"Hei!" _Kikugoro[u]_--"But Yoshi San: It is no mere request. I loaned you ten _ryo[u]_." _Yoshi_--"Patron, do you condescend still to remember it?" _Kikugoro[u]_--"Deign not to jest. Who would forget such a rascal? I'll wipe out that ten _ryo[u]_--and give you five _ryo[u]_ in addition. How now? Condescend to observe." _Yoshi_--"Thanks are felt. When it appears I'll take a good look at it." _Kikugoro[u]_--"With the month's change the first representation takes place. It must be ascertained in the intervening time. Probably in four or five days it will be seen." _Yoshi_--"That is so. _Do[u]mo!_ The opponent being a ghost, will it appear to-night? Or has is ended by going away? That I don't know. Having found out its dwelling place, I'll send a postal-card." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Don't jest. As just said, I'll give you five _ryo[u]_. Be careful; and please take a good look." _Yoshi_--"Respectfully heard and understood. This time I'll get a good look at it." Thus agreed Tsutayoshi returned that night to the Yoshiwara. _Yoshi_--"A pleasing thing! Ten _ryo[u]_ wiped off, and five _ryo[u]_ received in addition. Thanks: a fine bit of work. It will be well if the rascal of a ghost comes to-night. Anyhow, just before the _Bon_ it suffers distress beyond measure. For several days nothing has been seen of it. Its purpose may have changed: Yai! If the ghost is to appear, please show up at once. Don't it yet appear? Oi! Ghost!" The ghost was not to be drawn out by this display of energy. Several days passed without the slightest sign of it. Every day Kikugoro[u] came to the Bairin and sent for Tsutayoshi. _Kikugoro[u]_--"Yoshi San, has it not yet appeared?" _Yoshi_--"_Do[u]mo!_ The patron is vexed. Every day, every day, it is awaited; and not a sign of it. Feeling out of sorts, has it not died? That's my idea." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Oi! Oi! Yoshi San. Being dead, is it not a ghost? Once dead, does the rascal die again?" _Yoshi_--"_Do[u]mo!_ Patron, nothing is known of one's spirit. For it not to appear is annoying. Spirits (_ki_) suffer pain; and suffering pain they don't show themselves. It seems that you want it to appear before the first representation. If I see it, I get five _ryo[u]_. I would like to have it show itself before the _Bon_. My purpose is to get through this year's _Bon_[47] by means of the ghost." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Anyhow--have a care." _Yoshi_--"Agreed." That night he went home and drank wine. _Man_--"Yoshi San, is he at home?" Thereupon without ceremony entered an intimate friend, from Sakaicho[u] near Fukiyacho[u]. He had loaned money to Tsutayoshi, and now sought the repayment. _Man_--"Yoshi San, you say you will bring it, you will bring it; and you make no sign of bringing it. That was my money, and the failure to return it is vexing. Will matters change before the _Bon_?" _Yoshi_--"Wait but a little. If to-night something materializes I get five _ryo[u]_. The money in hand, at once I will pay you back." _Man_--"What is going to materialize? The five _ryo[u]_ you spoke of?" _Yoshi_--"In fact at my house a ghost appears. The Otowaya San heard of it. As of immediate use to the theatre I am carefully to observe what the ghost wears. He says he will give me five _ryo[u]_. The money obtained, at once the two _ryo[u]_ will be repaid. Wait until that happens." _Man_--"Oi! Oi! Yoshi San. Does a ghost really appear?" _Yoshi_--"It really does." _Man_--"What kind of a ghost?" _Yoshi_--"As to that--right before one; a most blood-curdling thing. Anyhow, I shiver all over at sight of it. Just like this--" _Man_--"Where does it show itself?" _Yoshi_--"Just where you are seated." _Man_--"Yoshi San, jokes don't go." Without waiting for an answer he fled. Seeing this said Tsutayoshi: _Yoshi_--"A ghost is a very profitable object. Do but speak of it, and he who would collect borrowed money takes to flight. If it appears, money is obtained. Hence a ghost is a remarkable thing. After this when the dry goods man comes for repayment, I'll chase him out again with the ghost. Anyhow this house brings good luck. The rent is cheap, and there is a ghost which enables one to dodge paying loans. Thanks: henceforth in renting a house I'll confine myself to haunted houses. So much for that. Will it show itself to-night?" Tsutayoshi hung up the mosquito net. He drank a glass. Thus reinforced, tranquil and pleased he laid down on the pillow. After sleeping awhile he opened his eyes. All around was quiet. The bustle of the night had ceased. There was not a sound. Outside the mosquito net the wick of the _andon_ had burned low and gave a faint light. Suddenly the bell of the eighth watch (1 A.M.) was heard on Bentenyama. Thereupon--de!... the sound was heard and the light of the _andon_ went out. Then as a mist an object like to a human being (_hito_) was visible. Ha! Tsutayoshi was frightened. Was this the ghost? He rolled up the mosquito net, the pupils of the eyes intent. Thus he had it in plain view. The hair of the head was in wild disorder. To sight it was certain it was a man. He wore a grey cotton garment. _Yoshi_--"That's it!" At the sudden exclamation--Ha! It disappeared. The _andon_ having previously gone out truly it was the very blackness of night. Coming out from under the mosquito net he (Yoshi) lit the wick. Smoking his tobacco he staid awake until dawn. In time the East became white. At once he left the house. He entered the bath at Agecho[u], breakfasted as usual at the cheap eating house in Komégata, and then went to the Morita-za in Kibikicho[u]. _Friend_--"Good-day." _Yoshi_--"Iya! It's hot to-day." _Friend_--"How now, Yoshi San? The O'Baké?" _Yoshi_--"As usual--it came in the night." _Friend_--"Is that so? When Otowaya San hears that, he will rejoice." While in talk a message came from Kikugoro[u]. At once Tsutayoshi went to the Bairin. Otowaya was waiting for him. _Kikugoro[u]_--"Yoshi San, how now--the ghost?" _Yoshi_--"Patron, condescend to rejoice. It appeared in the night." _Kikugoro[u]_--"Did it appear? The rascal is brave. Is it man or woman?" _Yoshi_--"A man in all likelihood." _Kikugoro[u]_--"The dress?" _Yoshi_--"Was seen to be grey cotton--positively so." _Kikugoro[u]_--"That's interesting. A _kimono_ of grey colour just suits the ghost of the _wakato[u]_ Kohei. Sa! Yoshi San, in accordance with the bargain I give you five _ryo[u]_." _Yoshi_--"_Do[u]mo!_ Thanks are felt." _Kikugoro[u]_--"There they are. Yoshi San, you are a brave fellow. Life in a haunted house is unpleasant. It will be well to remove elsewhere." _Yoshi_--"Iya! A haunted house is splendid. A friend just now came for the return of borrowed money. When told of a ghost appearing, he fled. Again, merely for noting what the ghost wears, you tell me I will get five _ryo[u]_. All this is due to the honoured shadow of the ghost. Thus regarding (my) Yurei Dai Myo[u]jin Sama,[48] to abandon such a splendid ghost and remove to some other place would change my luck. My purpose is to go on living with this ghost." _Kikugoro[u]_--"In that case, Yoshi San, it would be well to have the house cleaned. _Do[u]mo!_ Don't you think it is the work of fox or _tanuki_?" _Yoshi_--"Naruhodo! At all events I'll have the house cleaned." So receiving the money from Kikugoro[u], rejoicing Yoshi returned to the Yoshiwara. On the way he took a glass or so. Somewhat drunk, he entered the Tanaka no Mikawaya, a _tabi_ (sock) shop. The house was the owner of the place where Tsutayoshi lived. _Yoshi_--"Good-day." _Mikawaya_--"Oya! Yoshi San. Are you on your return? Ma! Condescend to enter. _Do[u]mo!_ The theatre now pleases the people. The audiences are large." _Yoshi_--"Thanks are felt." _Mikawaya_--"What your business, Yoshi San?" _Yoshi_--"Danna, I would like to have the house cleaned." _Mikawaya_--"Cleaned?" _Yoshi_--"_Do[u]mo!_ At present a supernatural object appears. It is vexing. As I will furnish the wages of the workman, I thought it would be well to have it cleaned." _Mikawaya_--"Hei! What appears?" _Yoshi_--"At times a ghost shows itself." _Mikawaya_--"A ghost?" _Yoshi_--"Once it showed itself beside the _andon_. The second time it was seen in the necessary. At evening it was seated at the entrance to the stairs. There is nothing to fear, unless it be the work of fox or badger. It would be bad for outsiders to get wind of it; so I would like to have the place cleaned." _Mikawaya_--"Is it man or woman?" _Yoshi_--"There is no doubt of its being a man, of small stature. His dress plainly is of grey cotton." _Mikawaya_--"A dress of grey cotton--the man of small stature. Un! Jo[u]! It is that low fellow." _Yoshi_--"Oi! Oi! Danna, did you know him? Was he a wicked fellow? Setting up in the ghost way--pray excuse me." _Landlord_--"Ma! Yoshi San, please hear what I have to say. The house that I rent to you originally was a brothel called the Yamashiroya. The landlord was an unrighteous fellow. One night an _oiran_ lacked any guest.[49] He took her with him to the _seméba_--(punishment room) and treated her most cruelly. No one called the place 'the Yamashiroya.' It was known as the Onimisé (devil-shop) of Fushimicho[u]. It was just this time last year that a _wakashu[u]_ (attendant) named Tokuzo fell in love with a woman named Kotsu no Wakataké. Pressed for money, to get it he had an eye to the pillows of the guests. From the low brothel mentioned perhaps he would get a _bu_--a couple of _shu[u]_. A restitution privately effected would have been well. He was roped up and carried off to the town hall. In every way a low scoundrel he was sent to Temmacho[u]. Soon after he died in the jail. Subsequently there were nothing but unpleasant happenings at the Yamashiroya. It was completely ruined. Later I bought it. Undecided about setting it up, I divided it into two houses and rented them out." _Yoshi_--"Hei!" _Mikawaya_--"That Tokuzo, as the _wakashu[u]_ was called, when sent to the town hall was dressed in the thin grey cotton robe given as present to him by an _oiran_. I knew Tokuzo. He was flighty and good natured; an interesting fellow. Of low stature, he was a good worker. Probably he failed to carry out his purpose." _Yoshi_--"Is that the case? It is a wonderful affair. Anyhow condescend to make everything clean." _Mikawaya_--"Agreed." After this workmen came from the Mikawaya, and the cleaning up was performed. Tsutayoshi at a subsequent meeting with Kikugoro[u] told him the story of Tokuzo. It would be well to have a funeral service held. So the memorial service for Tokuzo was conducted at the family temple of Tsutayoshi. The figure was never again seen. Kikugoro[u] in the rôle of ghost of the _wakato[u]_ Kohei came out dressed in a grey robe marked with _kokumochi_ (the badge of the white disk figured on coloured ground). Before one's very eyes he changed to O'Iwa. As ghost and arrayed in the family crest it was restricted to the Kohei of the "Yotsuya Kwaidan." The theatre was packed. Such was the crowd that the upper gallery of the theatre collapsed. Even though an actor, everywhere he (Kikugoro[u]) was spoken of as a great man. To favoured guests of Kikugoro[u] the matter was so related. Thus the tale is a true one. TAKUAN Three great priests of influence figure in the rule of the first three Tokugawa Sho[u]gun. Tenhai Osho[u] of the Nankwo[u]bo[u], bishop of the temple foundation at Ueno, was all powerful under Iyeyasu. His successors, Nikkei So[u]zu of the San-en-Zo[u]jo[u]ji at Shiba, and Takuan Zaisho[u] of the Daikokudo[u], the To[u]kaiji of Shinagawa, were the priestly influences under the 2nd and 3rd Sho[u]gun. It is the last-named cleric who is responsible for the hard and palatable yellow preparation of the _daikon_ (radish) known under his name of _takuan_. The _daikon_ is soused in brine and rice bran, kept weighted down under heavy stones, and allowed "to ripen" for some weeks. A way station in its preparation and edibility, and to be experienced in every Japanese household, is the unspeakable and unbreathable soft _nukamisozuké_. Its presence always arouses suspicion of the pressing defect in the house drainage. Takuan deserves esteem and appreciation for other than culinary reasons. On a visit to the castle one day the old friar noted the depression of his valued and intimate friend Yagyu Tajima no Kami. The aging _o[u]metsuké_ (suzerain's eye) and fencing teacher to the third Sho[u]gun opened out his woes. His second son was dead. His third son was worthless. At least the father thought so at this time. His eldest son, Jubei, as great at arms as himself and his legitimate successor, was a madman--gone mad over his own excellence. Takuan heard the particulars. At once he volunteered to act as physician. "Be of good heart. This Takuan will prescribe." The grateful Munenori, in the course of the next few days sent to the prelate's quarters to know when the journey to the far-off Yamato fief would be made. He would make provision for the prior's comfort and conveyance. Said a sleek scribe and substitute--"The lord abbot has long since departed. It is useless to attempt to overtake him. He travels fast." Such was the message to the pleased but discomfited Munenori. Meanwhile at Yagyu Masakizaka in Yamato there turned up a shabby travel-stained old fellow. The gatekeepers were inclined flatly to refuse admission. However, the _karo[u]_, or chief officer of the fief, had to be notified. He was unwilling to let slip any chance of relief to the condition of Jubei Dono. With some misgivings the old fellow was ordered around to the garden. The _samurai_ code made little account of cutting down a retainer, a beggar, or an outcast. In the first case compensation was allowed; the last two were honoured by the experiment. Priests and women were not covered by the code; matter of omission, rather than of importance. The wanderer had taken his seat by the little pond in the garden. Here to all appearance he remained in a meditation which was roughly interrupted by the irruption of the lord of the mansion into a room close by. Jubei kicked the _sho[u]ji_ out of the frames, and strode to the edge of the verandah. His hair was in wild disorder. He wore armour on his shoulders, and was stark naked below the waist. Face twitching and eyes flashing he hailed his visitor, to demand on what mission he had dared to intrude on the time and patience of the great man. Let the excuse be a good one. Otherwise--But at abuse the cleric was a good hand himself. He, too, had heard of Jubei Dono; he who posed as the great man of Nippon. This was poaching on his own ground, for he set himself up to be the match of any number in the land. At this Jubei broke into angry jeers and invectives. The priest made answer with equal roughness. "How face two opponents--to right and left?" Jubei snorted with contempt. He was active enough to neglect the one and cut down the other before aid could be brought. The Yagyu-ryu[u], or style of fencing, made provision for such occasion. Aye! And for four--and against eight.... "And against sixteen, and thirty-two, and sixty-four, and a hundred and twenty-eight opponents ... against all the many fighting men of Nippon? How would Jubei face all those?" To this Jubei could but answer that he would die fighting. The priest in his turn snorted with contempt. "Die fighting: by such words Jubei admits defeat." But he did not allow Jubei to turn questioner in his turn. Swiftly he shifted the argument. He, the cleric, considered Jubei of small account. He would prove to him what a fool he was by the interpretation of a mere thirty-one syllables of poetry. This should be the test of intelligence. The Knight's Way (Budo[u]) had its inner and cryptic meaning expressed in verse. So had the Way of the Buddha (Butsudo[u]). Of this latter Jubei knew nothing; and he doubted if he knew anything of the former. At least let him display some sample of his wit. Jubei leaped at the test to prove his greatness. Now he scorned to deal with a priest in arms. How was this: "By night storm of Narutaki broken, The scattered jewels, e'en the moon, it harbours."[50] "Is there but that to prove wit?"--"How then with this one?" "Tree leaves on Yamakawa's flood: The self, abandoned, does but drift--lo!"[51] The priest threw up his hands. "Such stuff will never do! And this fellow considers himself educated!" "Rain seen, impeded not to flow away; The snow breaks not the stem of willow green."[52] "Various and many though the ways of teaching be, There is but one true stroke of sword."[53] Jubei gleamed most homicidally at his questioner. The priest only said--"A child has such by heart." And Jubei knew 'twas so, and was rebuked. Now he was in less haste: "The heart, how judge it? An ink sketch of the breeze amid the pines."[54] A shrug of the shoulders was the reward of this effort. "Though barrier mount, the leafy mount, the inner mount, be dense with leafage; What e'er one wills, naught hinders."[55] The priest shook his head as with grave indulgence to childhood's thoughts. Jubei burst into a rage. He turned to his sword-bearer, and laid hand on the weapon. The lad knelt with bowed head, uncertain whether the sword was to fall on himself or the visitor. Without paying the slightest attention to the hostile attitude the priest cut matters short. "Jubei Dono would question the priest's right to judge. Come now! The cleric's foolish head against the wits of Nippon's great man. O warrior, interpret!" A sign; and ink stone and poem paper (_tanzaku_) were put before him. Jubei in turn took the scroll in hand. He read: "_Tatazumuna, yukuna, modoruna, isuwaruna; Neruna, okiruna, shiru mo shiranu mo._" "It neither stands still, nor goes forward, nor goes backward, nor remains as it is; It sleeps not, rises not: known or unknown." Jubei started with a bellow; and ended in a whisper. The retainers looked in each other's faces. Who was the maddest--their lord or the shabby _bo[u]zu_? A long silence followed. Jubei no longer stood in grandiloquent pose. He squatted down before the ideographs. At last he said--"The poem contains much matter. Deign to allow time for the solution." His voice was gentle and courteous to this future victim of his intelligence. The priest nodded a genial assent. Before he withdrew Jubei gave emphatic orders as to ward and entertainment. The pleasures of anticipation, of solution of the poem and slicing of the cleric, must have compensation. His tread was slow and stately as he left the room; his looks were contained and thoughtful. The man of black robe was carried off to a better reception than so far experienced. With scorn he sent away the scanty meal of vegetable food; and ordered matters to his taste with a manner that none cared to obey, or dared to disobey. Meanwhile Jubei started in on the poem. With the progress of his efforts ideas of his greatness disappeared. No matter what might be his skill with the sword--and the priest already had shown its limitations--his inexperience in literature was patent. Ah! If he could but win the head of this scurvy cleric. His mind now was totally removed from thoughts of himself. For two days and two nights he never closed his eyes, which were fastened on the infernal ideographs--palpably so full of a meaning he could not grasp. Then he was worn out. He went to sleep, and slept for a full twenty-four hours. On awaking he was a different being. The cobwebs of the mind were clean swept. Its vague shiftings had been brought to concentration--to thought. Now it was the household which was mad with joy. It was Jubei, lord of the manor, who sought interview with his saviour. Prostrate he gave thanks, apology for the poor entertainment; and expressed his hope and wish to keep always by him the holy man. Who was he--this man who had given him back mind and power of thought? Just then a messenger from his father, Tajima no Kami, was announced. Those assembled leaned forward at sight of the man in amazed prostration, first before his lord, then before the shabby old priest. "Takuan Osho[u] Sama at Yagyu! And yet this Kyu[u]taro[u] has made all speed to Yamato to make report of his lordship's coming." All fell on their faces, including Jubei. Takuan smiled, a little grimly. "The garb makes not the cleric. Jubei Dono will forgive the presence of the humble priest who now must leave him, pressed by affairs, none of which have been more important than the mission here." And leave he did--but ample gifts to the temple followed after. Jubei never could take his father's place close to the Sho[u]gun's side. His one-time madness forbade assumption of such office. Indeed on rare occasions the mad fit again would threaten; but the infallible remedy was at hand. To Jubei's question Takuan had answered--"The meaning? The poem has none. If there had been verily Takuan would have lost his head. But find one, if you can." The joy of Tajima no Kami was completed by the return of his third son Matajuro[u], restored to normal health. Later this Matajuro[u] became the famous Hida no Kami and successor to his father as the Sho[u]gun's fencing master. Of these three men--more anon.[56] FOOTNOTES: [1] _Kwaidan_ means "Wonder Tale." The word is of general meaning, requiring limitation for the specific case. [2] The _go-kenin_, for the most part; although some _hatamoto_, whose incomes ran as low as 300 _koku_ could be classed with them. In English--cf. T.H. Gubbins--Trans. Asiatic Soc. of Japan, xv. [3] The hard palatable pickled yellow _daikon_ (radish). _Nukamisozuké_ is a way station in its production by pickling in salt and bran. _Nukamisozuké_ is better described than smelt. [4] Sanzu no Kawa--the river crossed by the dead; the Buddhist "Styx." Shide no Yama--the mountain to be crossed on the way to Hell, or to the judgment hall of its great king--Emma Dai-o[u] (Yama). All deserve, and get, some punishment in this nether world. [5] Near Meguro: scores of quaint figures, seated in tiers and meditation. [6] A famous Chinese book on military tactics. Prince Yoshitsuné, hero of the Gempei wars, served arduously for a glimpse of it. Cf.: Life of Benkei, vol. i, pp. 311 reg. Densuké refers to the three (_san_) stages of rice cooking. [7] Geishu[u]-Aki province. For six months the _daimyo[u]_ left Edo to govern their fief in person. Their wives and families remained in Edo. The penalties at the barriers (Hakoné, for instance) were severe if the wife tried to get away (escape) from Edo. [8] The Japanese personal pronoun is used--in the first person only to obviate ambiguity in the sentence. Women use it more frequently than men. In the second person it is used to express emphasis, great familiarity, impertinence, or rebuke. The last two uses are frequent. Ordinarily the honorifics and the construction of the sentence take the place of these pronouns. Such at least seems to be the usage of the _ko[u]dan_ writers, and in the present book the example has been followed, as far as possible. In a few instances the use of a pronoun will relieve the strain of a lengthy sentence or involved circumlocution in the western tongue. At times the closer style can be abandoned--as in the direct narration of the Tale of the Baryufu Kwannon. So also with the translations of the _gidayu_ and the _ko[u]dan_ attached. These are for recitation. In the original the pronoun is rarely written in. But the literal translation of the honorifics would appear stilted. To westerners these are appellations; to the native they are indications. [9] The old Shimbashi station and its yards cover this site. "Tide limit"--a suggestive name. [10] A _sakuji bugyo[u]_ was the official who had charge of the maintenance and construction of public works within the _daimyo[u]'s_ fief. [11] A deep cutting through the hill. They are common features in Nippon. Many valleys are only accessible by a climb, unless mitigated by a _kirido[u]shi_, or obviated by a tunnel. Kamakura, for instance, is accessible by land in no other way. Asahina _kirido[u]shi_: there are several others. [12] The description is curious. Writing fifty years ago Ryuo[u] tells us these men no longer practised. His book is not readily met with and the passage in the original is worth preserving--"_Kono sunegiri yatsu to iu wa tadaima de wa arimasen ga; makurajima no tabi ni asaura wo haki, sankeigyo[u] no kyahan de, nagai no wo ippon sashi. Eh! To[u] de o isogi de nai. Okata wa watakushi no mosu koyaku no ko[u]no[u] wo kiite o motome nasai. Nukeba tamachiru nagai no yaiba da nure kami de mo kayo ni kireru, tadaima yatsu ga wo kiri chi wo tomete goran ni ireru; to maru de kiru yo[u] desu ga ha (yaiba) no aru tokoro wa madzu no kata bakari de, moto no kata wa yaiba ga hiite aru yue, sono ha hiku no tokoro wo ude he ataru to suji ga tsuku bakari de kire washimasen ga, tanka ga kireru kara, chiwa taki-tsu se no gotoku nagareru. Chi ni wa sakarawazu ikusa naka ko wo mochiireba, sokuza ni todomaru nani mae kara todotteru no desu ga, hagyu[u] da kara maru de chi ga tomaru yo[u] ni micru kara, kono ho he hitotsu gai, kono ho he futatsu gai, to uremasu._"--"Yotsuya Kwaidan," pp. 31-32. [13] One-fourth of a _ryo[u]_ = 15 silver mommé = 872 grains Troy. Money had much greater purchasing value at that time as compared with the present days; perhaps 20 times, but adulteration of the coinage caused great variations. [14] The Machibugyo[u] was judge and prosecutor (procurator or district attorney); the two offices being held by the same man. A court trial included both functions. _Tengu_, used below, is the long-nosed wood bogey. There is a note in Benkei, i, 260. [15] The _tawara_ equals two-fifths of a _koku_. At present-day figures the stipend of Tamiya can be put at about 2000 yen; that of Ito[u] Kwaiba, mentioned later, at 13,000 yen. The great _daimyo[u]_ with incomes running into the hundreds of thousands of _koku_ were princes administering part of the public domain, with armies and an elaborate civil service to support. Even a _hatamoto_ (minor _daimyo[u]_, immediate vassals of the sho[u]gun) of 10,000 _koku_, such as Yagyu[u] Tajima no Kami had a large train at his Edo _yashiki_ and at his fief. The Daté House of Sendai, or the Maeda of Kaga, Etchu[u], and Echizen, are examples of the greater To[u]zama, or lords independent in the administration of their fiefs. Labour, it is to be added, was cheap compared to food values. Taxes were heavy--ranging from 30 to 70 per cent. The middleman took his high fee. Yet sumptuary laws were necessary to prevent extravagance among the farming class. Some of them were rich men, especially in the better administered Tokugawa fiefs. The public works required of the _daimyo[u]_--especially the To[u]zama--prevented a dangerous accumulation of resources, and sometimes almost ruined his subjects. Accurate measurements of income are not available. The _koku_ of _daimyo[u]_ income has been placed as high as ten bushels. The present-day _koku_ equals 5.13 bushels. The price of rice ranges between 15-20 yen per _koku_. [16] The title for all men of learning and professional attainments. The great medical doctor is "Sensei," the doctor of literature is "Sensei"--and the charlatan who peddles charms by the highway is "Sensei"--teacher. [17] A technical social expression--"I trouble you" or "with highest respect and consideration." Satuma = Satsuma-Jo[u]fu, the grass cloth of fine quality woven and dyed in Loo-choo; narrow swords; all this (Momogawa) is an example of the earnest study the _ko[u]dan_ lecturers make of their subject. These delightful little expositions of dress and manner are frequent. [18] _Rusu_ or _rusuban_ = caretaker in the owner's absence. As often as not the wife is so regarded by the Japanese husband. [19] Reiganji, the great temple giving the name to the Reigan district of Fukagawa, is one of the many temples there found. The Jo[u]shinji is close by. [20] A complicated checkers-chess like game. [21] There are nine of these stages of skill. [22] 5.13 bushel. Income of the _samurai_ classes were so measured. [23] _Kyara_ = nut gall, in Momogawa's _ko[u]dan_. From the marriage to the expulsion of O'Iwa his treatment of the story is mainly followed. Ryuo[u] slurs the marriage, but describes the persecution with great effect. The lines of treatment only diverge subsequently. Ryuo[u] is to be preferred. [24] The monetary _bu_ was one-fourth the _ryo[u]_; the _shu[u]_ was one-fourth the value of the _bu_. A hundred _mon_ = one _sen_. To-day there are blind shampooers (and for massage) at 500 _mon_ = 5 _sen_. [25] Of the Nichiren sect. The characters of the "Yotsuya Kwaidan" move within the circle of this Presbyterian cult: _i.e._, Presbyterian in its stiff attitude of hostility and superiority to all other sects. There is another Myo[u]gyo[u]ji, neighbour to the Ten-o[u] shrine. [26] High sounding titles given to the _great hetairae_. The difference from the Greek world lay in their not being independent. They were confined to the houses of their owners. But these noted women were ransomed at times--even by great nobles. Thus Daté Tsunamune the 3rd _daimyo[u]_ of Sendai bought the famous Oiran Takao, weighing in the scales the woman against gold. In a fit of passion he killed her soon after, and had her body cast into the Edogawa. [27] "_Hagurete mo mata afu michi ya hana no yama._" [28] The _aodaisho[u]_ is something of the nature of a black snake. Says Brinkley's Dict. "_elaphis virgatus_." [29] The term "Inkyo[u]," already several times used, applies to a man who has retired from active life, leaving the management of the affairs of the House to the duly appointed heir and successor. A specified portion of the income is usually assigned for his maintenance, and forms a first lien, so to speak, on such return. The modernized law of Nippon does not permit assumption of this state before the age of fifty years, unless there be incapacitation such as necessitates retirement. In ancient days (pre-Meiji) there was no such limitation. Men often retired very early in life--from caprice, family intrigue, or for the freer management of their affairs. In the latter case they had more power and less responsibility; the latter falling on the heir and successor, perhaps still a mere child. _Go_ is merely honorific. [30] "Awarase ya: Byo[u]bu wa koi no taki sagari." The living carp strives to ascend the fall. [31] The old hag who lurks in the River of Souls, waylaying little children, robbing them of their clothes, and compelling them to construct huge piles of stones. Her counterfeit presentment (by Unkei) can be well seen at the Enno[u]ji of Kamakura. [32] An ordinary disposition of these women; who often preferred their Edo lover to such lot. [33] _Ototoi oidé_: It is the salutation of the good Buddhist to the captured insect, thrown without and requested to return "the day before yesterday" = the Greek Kalends. As used above it is a gross insult to the person addressed. [34] Damask hill: the names taken by these great _hetairai_ were most fanciful. [35] Next to the Ten-o[u] Jinja; not that of Samégabashi. To-day retired, neat and clean; without the dirty publicity of larger temples. It is a bit of country in crowded Yotsuya. [36] A young girl's method of fixing the hair; but Ryuo[u] uses the term. Gohei are the paper strips used as offering. Usually attached to a short stick. [37] At the Gyo[u]ranji of Matsuzakacho[u] in the Mita district of To[u]kyo[u]. [38] _Sanzugawa_: _Yama_ mo nakereba, _hashi mo nashi_; _shinde no tabiji hana wa nao nashi_. Sanzugawa, the river crossed by the dead. [39] A fourth form of torture was suspension--an exaggerated infliction of "the lobster." These official forms are described by J. Carey Hall in the transactions of the Asiatic Society of Japan, vol. XLI., Part V. The native references are the "Tokugawa Seikei Shiryo[u]," "Keizai Dai Hiroku," "Ko[u]jiki Ruihi Horitsu-bu." Cf. article on Go[u]mon in the "Kokushi Dai Jiten." There were other forms. In the examination into the famous conspiracy of Yui Sho[u]setsu (1651 A.D.) no confession could be secured from Yoshida Hatsuémon. He was brought out, to find his thirteen-year-old son Hachitaro[u] undergoing the torture of dropping water. At the last extremities the boy pleaded for mercy. His father drily told him to act the _samurai_, and not to imperil the lives of others. It was different with Matsubayashi Chuya (really the last heir of the famous Cho[u]sokabé House of Tosa). At sight of his old, white haired, white faced, jail wearied mother threatened with the fire torture, he did for her what he would not do for himself. The old woman willingly would have undergone the torture. Chuya's confession cost the lives of seventy-five men. [40] Hifumikwan (To[u]kyo[u]), Meiji 29th year 2nd month 15th day (28th March, 1896). [41] _Mairase So[u]ro[u]_: "I take the liberty of...." Brinkley's Dict. A purely formal expression used in the letters of women writers. [42] The three holy things--Buddha, his Law, the priesthood. [43] Another reading of the characters for Kikugoro[u]--to the initiated. [44] "Top-bottom": the beautiful lozenge shaped [=X] dress of the _samurai_ when on court service, or for other ceremony: full dress. [45] "Small fish boiled in soy in order to preserve it (named after Tsukudajima-To[u]kyo[u]--famous for its preparation)."--Brinkley's Dict. [46] Brown, with stripes--a favourite pattern with men and women. [47] Feast of the Dead. This festival is held in July--in the country in August, the old calendar seventh month. [48] Apparitional divine lord. [49] The expression is technical--"_hitoban de mo o cha wo hikeba_." All night a mere tea-server. [50] [Narutaki no yoru no arashi ni kudakarete; Chiru tama goto ni tsuki zo yadoreru.] [51] [Yamakawa no nagare ni ko no ha shizumu tomo; Mi wo sutete koso ukabu se mo are.] [52] [Furu to miba tsumoranu saki ni haraekashi; Yuki ni wa orenu aoyagi no ito.]^{[3]} [53] [Sama Sama to oshie no michi mo o[u]keredo Uchikomu tokoro shin no itto[u].]^{[4]} [54] [Kokoro to wa ikanaru mono wo iu yaran; Sumie ni kakitsu matsu kaze no oto.]^{[5]} [55] [Tsukubayama, Hayama, Nakayama, Shigeredomo; Omoiru ni wa mono mo sawarazu.]^{[6]} [56] Cf.--"Araki Mataémon--Ueno Adauchi," by Masui Nanzan. There is little reason to believe that Jubei's madness was assumed, a rather extravagant explanation of the more than probable fact that his well-known travels were inspired by the Sho[u]gun's government. Actual knowledge and inspection of the conditions and feelings in far-off Satsuma, made by an expert, was much desired. Okubo Hikozaémon also travelled as the Sho[u]gun's private eye. Jubei undoubtedly found his reputation for one-time madness very useful, and played upon it. * * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page 27: nukamisosuké amended to nukamisozuké | | Page 54: aids amended to aides | | Page 55, pages 58-61 inclusive: Sakarai amended to Sakurai | | Page 61: T[=o]eman amended to Toémon | | Page 104: Nakusuké amended to Kakusuké | | Page 143: misintrepeted amended to misinterpreted | | Page 144: aids amended to aides | | Page 172: honorofic amended to honorific | | Page 173: Kamikura amended to Kamimura | | Page 175: trucculent amended to truculent | | Page 187: Samegebashi amended to Samégabashi | | Page 193: Akiyima amended to Akiyama | | Page 194: Teremachi amended to Teramachi | | Page 198: Fukotar[=o] amended to Fukutar[=o] | | Page 223: Sh[=o]zaémon amended to Ch[=o]zaémon | | Page 227: peel amended to peal | | Page 240: Kamikura amended to Kamimura | | Page 262: Okusuma amended to Okusama | | Page 269: gray amended to grey (twice) | | Page 273: threshhold amended to threshold | | Page 277: Iye amended to Iya | | Page 279: Mikowaya amended to Mikawaya | | | | Where there is an equal number of instances of a word | | occurring as hyphenated and unhyphenated, the hyphens | | have been retained: Blind-man/Blindman; | | care-taker/caretaker; cross-roads/crossroads; | | go-down/godown; house-keeping/housekeeping; | | Mita-mura/Mitamura; near-by/nearby; woman-kind/womankind. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * 
7095	----	MALAYAN LITERATURE Comprising Romantic Tales, Epic Poetry And Royal Chronicles Translated Into English For The First Time With A Special Introduction By CHAUNCEY C. STARKWEATHER, A.B., LL.B. SPECIAL INTRODUCTION Easily the most charming poem of Malayan Literature is the Epic of Bidasari. It has all the absorbing fascination of a fairy tale. We are led into the dreamy atmosphere of haunted palace and beauteous plaisance: we glide in the picturesque imaginings of the oriental poet from the charm of all that is languorously seductive in nature into the shadowy realms of the supernatural. At one moment the sturdy bowman or lithe and agile lancer is before us in hurrying column, and at another we are told of mystic sentinels from another world, of Djinns and demons and spirit-princes. All seems shadowy, vague, mysterious, entrancing. In this tale there is a wealth of imagery, a luxury of picturesqueness, together with that straightforward simplicity so alluring in the story- teller. Not only is our attention so captivated that we seem under a spell, but our sympathy is invoked and retained. We actually wince before the cruel blows of the wicked queen. And the hot tears of Bidasari move us to living pity. In the poetic justice that punishes the queen and rewards the heroine we take a childish delight. In other words, the oriental poet is simple, sensuous, passionate, thus achieving Milton's ideal of poetic excellence. We hope that no philosopher, philologist, or ethnologist will persist in demonstrating the sun-myth or any other allegory from this beautiful poem. It is a story, a charming tale, to while away an idle hour, and nothing more. All lovers of the simple, the beautiful, the picturesque should say to such learned peepers and botanizers, "Hands off!" Let no learned theories rule here. Leave this beautiful tale for artists and lovers of the story pure and simple. Seek no more moral here than you would in a rose or a lily or a graceful palm. Light, love, color, beauty, sympathy, engaging fascination--these may be found alike by philosopher and winsome youth. The story is no more immoral than a drop of dew or a lotus bloom; and, as to interest, in the land of the improviser and the story-teller one is obliged to be interesting. For there the audience is either spellbound, or quickly fades away and leaves the poet to realize that he must attempt better things. We think that these folk-stories have, indeed, a common origin, but that it is in the human heart. We do not look for a Sigurd or Siegfried on every page. Imagine a nation springing from an ignorant couple on a sea-girt isle, in a few generations they would have evolved their Sleeping Beauty and their Prince Charming, their enchanted castles, and their Djinns and fairies. These are as indigenous to the human heart as the cradle-song or the battle-cry. We do not find ourselves siding with those who would trace everything to a first exemplar. Children have played, and men have loved, and poets have sung from the beginning, and we need not run to Asia for the source of everything. Universal human nature has a certain spontaneity. The translator has tried to reproduce the faithfulness and, in some measure, to indicate the graceful phrases of the original poem. The author of Bidasari is unknown, and the date of the poem is a matter of the utmost uncertainty. Some have attributed to it a Javanese origin, but upon very slight evidence. The best authorities place its scene in the country of Palembang, and its time after the arrival of the Europeans in the Indian archipelago, but suggest that the legend must be much older than the poem. The "Makota Radja-Radja" is one of the most remarkable books of oriental literature. According to M. Aristide Marre, who translated it into French, its date is 1603. Its author was Bokhari, and he lived at Djohore. It contains extracts from more than fifty Arab and Persian authors. It treats of the duties of man to God, to himself and to society, and of the obligations of sovereigns, subjects, ministers, and officers. Examples are taken from the lives of kings in Asia. The author has not the worst opinion of his work, saying distinctly that it is a complete guide to happiness in this world and the next. He is particularly copious in his warnings to copyists and translators, cautioning them against the slightest negligence or inaccuracy, and promising them for faithfulness a passport to the glories of heaven. This shows that the author at least took the work seriously. That there is not a trace of humor in the book would doubtless recommend it to the dignified and lethargic orientals for whom it was written. Bokhari seemed to consider himself prophet, priest, and poet-laureate in one. The work has a high position in the Malayan Peninsula, where it is read by young and old. The "Crown of Kings" is written in the court language of Djohore. The author was a Mohammedan mendicant monk. He called the book the Crown of Kings because "every king who read and followed its precepts would be a perfect king, and thus only would his crown sit well on his head, and the book itself will be for him a true crown." La Fontaine and Lamartine loved stories. The schoolmates of the latter called the latter "story-lover." They would have loved the story of the Princess Djouher Manikam, which is written in a simple and natural style and is celebrated in the East, or, as the Malays say, in the "country between windward and leeward." From the "Sedjaret Malayou," worthless as it is as history, one may obtain side lights upon oriental life. Manners are portrayed in vivid colors, so that one may come to have a very accurate knowledge of them. Customs are depicted from which one may learn of the formality and regard for precedents which is a perspicuous trait of oriental character. The rigid etiquette of court and home may be remarked. From the view of morals here described, one may appreciate how far we have progressed in ethical culture from that prevailing in former times among the children of these winterless lands. The readers of this series are to be congratulated in that they are here placed in possession of a unique and invaluable source of information concerning the life and literature of the far-away people of the Indian archipelago. To these pages an added interest accrues from the fact that the Philippines are now protected by our flag. The name Malay signifies a wanderer. As a people they are passionate, vain, susceptible, and endowed with a reckless bravery and contempt of death. The Malays have considerable originality in versification. The pantoum is particularly theirs--a form arising from their habits of improvisation and competitive versifying. They have also the epic or _sjair_, generally a pure romance, with much naive simplicity and natural feeling. And finally, they have the popular song, enigma, and fable. And so we leave the reader to his pleasant journey to the lands of Djinns and Mantris and spells and mystic talismans. He will be entertained by the chrestomathy of Bokhari; he will be entranced by the story of the winsome and dainty Bidasari. CHAUNCEY C. STARKWEATHER CONTENTS BIDASARI: Song I Song II Song III Song IV Song V Song VI SEDJARET MALAYOU THE PRINCESS DJOUHER-MANIKAM MAKOTA RADJA-RADJA THE EPIC OF BIDASARI _Metrical Translation by Chauncey C. Starkweather, A.B., LL.B._ BIDASARI SONG I Hear now the song I sing about a king Of Kembajat. A fakir has completed The story, that a poem he may make. There was a king, a sultan, and he was Handsome and wise and perfect in all ways, Proud scion of a race of mighty kings. He filled the land with merchants bringing wealth And travellers. And from that day's report, He was a prince most valorous and strong, Who never vexing obstacles had met. But ever is the morrow all unknown. After the Sultan, all accomplished man, Had married been a year, or little more, He saw that very soon he'd have an heir. At this his heart rejoiced, and he was glad As though a mine of diamonds were his. Some days the joy continued without clouds. But soon there came the moment when the prince Knew sorrow's blighting force, and had to yield His country's capital. A savage bird, Garouda called, a very frightful bird, Soared in the air, and ravaged all the land. It flew with wings and talons wide outstretched, With cries to terrify the stoutest heart. All people, great and small, were seized with dread, And all the country feared and was oppressed, And people ran now this way and now that. The folk approached the King. He heard the noise As of a fray, and, angry, asked the guard, "Whence comes this noise?" As soon as this he said One of his body-guard replied with awe, "Illustrious lord, most merciful of kings, A fell garouda follows us about." The King's face paled when these dread words be heard. The officers arose and beat their breasts. The sorrow of the King was greater still Because the Queen was ill. He took her hand And started without food or anything. He trusted all to God, who watches o'er The safety of the world. The suff'ring Queen Spoke not a word and walked along in tears. They went by far _campongs_ and dreary fields Beneath a burning sun which overwhelmed Their strength. And so the lovely Queen's fair face From palest yellow grew quite black. The prince Approached the desert with his body torn By thorns and brambles. All his care and grief Were doubled when he saw his lovely wife Who scarce could drag herself along and whom He had to lead. Most desolate was he, Turning his mind on the good Queen's sad lot. Upon the way he gave up all to her. Two months they journeyed and one day they came Unto a _campong_ of a merchant, where They looked for rest because the Queen was weak. The path was rugged and the way was hard. The prince made halt before the palisades, For God had made him stop and rest awhile. The Sultan said: "What is this _campong_ here? I fain would enter, but I do not dare." The good Queen wept and said: "O my beloved, What shall I say? I am so tired and weak I cannot journey more." The King was quite Beside himself and fainted where he sat. But on they journeyed to the riverside, Stopping at every step. And when the King Had gained the bank he saw a little boat With roof of bent bamboos and _kadjang_ screen. Then to the Queen, "Rest here, my precious one." The silver moon was at the full, but veiled With clouds, like to a maid who hides her face And glances toward her lover timidly. Then there was born a daughter, like a flower, More beautiful than statue of pure gold, Just like the tulips that the princess plucked. The mother's heart was broken at the thought That she must leave the babe, the child beloved They both adored, such beauty it presaged. The King with tears exclaimed, "How can we take The infant with us o'er this stony road Beset with thorns, and burned with dreadful heat? Pearl of my palace," said he to the Queen, "Weep not so bitterly about the child. An offering let us make of her to God. God grant she may be found by loving hearts Who'll care for her and raise her in their home." As soon as they had quite determined there To leave the infant princess, their great grief No limit knew. But ere they went away The King took up the infant in his arms And rocked her on his knees until she slept. "Sleep on, heart's love, my soul, my little one, Weep not for thy dear mother's lot. She fain Would take thee with her, but the way is hard. Sleep on, dear child, the apple of my eye, The image of thy sire. Stay here, fear not. For unto God we trust thee, Lord of all. Sleep on, my child, chief jewel of my crown, And let thy father go. To look at thee Doth pierce my heart as by a poniard's blow. Ah, sweet my child, dear, tender little one, Thy father loves yet leaves thee. Happy be, And may no harm come nigh thee. Fare thee well." The little princess slept, lulled by his voice. He put her from his knees and placed her on A finely woven cloth of Ind, and covered her With satin webbed with gold. With flowing tears The mother wrapped her in a tissue fine Adorned with jewels like to sculptured flowers. She seized the child and weeping murmured low: "O dearest child, my pretty little girl! I leave thee to the Master of the world. Live happily, although thy mother goes And leaves thee here. Ah, sad thy mother's lot! Thy father forces her to quit thee now. She would prefer with thee to stay, but, no! Thy father bids her go. And that is why Thy mother's fond heart breaks, she loves thee so, And yet must leave thee. Oh, how can I live?" The mother fainted, and the grieving King Was fain to kill himself, so was he moved. He took the Queen's head on his knees. And soon By God's decree and ever-sheltering grace She to her senses came and stood erect. Again she wept on looking at the child. "If I should never see thee more, sweet soul, Oh, may thy mother share thy fate! Her life Is bound to thine. The light is gone from out Thy mother's eyes. Hope dies within her heart Because she fears to see thee nevermore. Oh, may some charitable heart, my child, Discover thee!" The prince essayed to dry Her tears. "Now come away, my dearest love. Soon day will dawn." The prince in grief set out, But ever turned and wanted to go back. They walked along together, man and wife All solitary, with no friends at hand, Care-worn and troubled, and the moon shone bright. SONG II I sing in this song of a merchant great And of his wealth. His goods and treasures were Beyond all count, his happiness without Alloy. In Indrapura town there was No equal to his fortune. He possessed A thousand slaves, both old and young, who came From Java and from other lands. His rank Was higher than Pangawa's. Wives he had In goodly numbers. But he lacked one thing That weighed upon his heart--he had no child. Now, by the will of God, the merchant great Came very early from the palace gates, And sought the river-bank, attended by His favorite wife. Lila Djouhara was The merchant's name. He heard a feeble voice As of an infant crying, like the shrill Tones of a flute, and from a boat it seemed To come. Then toward the wondrous boat he went And saw an infant with a pretty face. His heart was overjoyed as if he had A mine of diamonds found. The spouses said: "Whose child is this? It surely must belong To one of highest rank. Some cause he had To leave her here." The merchant's heart was glad To see the bright eyes of the little one. He raised her in his arms and took her home. Four waiting-maids and nurses two he gave The pretty child. The palace rooms were all Adorned anew, with rugs and curtains soft, And tapestries of orange hue were hung. The princess rested on a couch inlaid with gold, A splendid couch, with lanterns softly bright And tapers burning with a gentle ray. The merchant and his wife with all their hearts Adored the child, as if it were their own. She looked like Mindoudari, and received The name of Bidasari. Then they took A little fish and changing vital spirits They put it in a golden box, then placed The box within a casket rich and rare. The merchant made a garden, with all sorts Of vases filled with flowers, and bowers of green And trellised vines. A little pond made glad The eyes, with the precious stones and topaz set Alternately, in fashion of the land Of Pellanggam, a charm for all. The sand Was purest gold, with alabaster fine All mixed with red pearls and with sapphires blue. And in the water deep and clear they kept The casket. Since they had the infant found, Sweet Bidasari, all the house was filled With joy. The merchant and his wife did naught But feast and clap their hands and dance. They watched The infant night and day. They gave to her Garments of gold, with necklaces and gems, With rings and girdles, and quaint boxes, too, Of perfume rare, and crescent pins and flowers Of gold to nestle in the hair, and shoes Embroidered in the fashion of Sourat. By day and night the merchant guarded her. So while sweet Bidasari grew, her lovely face Increased in beauty. Her soft skin was white And yellow, and she was most beautiful. Her ear-rings and her bracelets made her look Like some rare gem imprisoned in a glass. Her beauty had no equal, and her face Was like a nymph's celestial. She had gowns As many as she wished, as many as A princess fair of Java. There was not A second Bidasari in the land. I'll tell about Djouhan Mengindra now, Sultan of Indrapura. Very wide His kingdom was, with ministers of state And officers, and regiments of picked Young warriors, the bulwark of the throne. This most illustrious prince had only been Two years the husband of fair Lila Sari, A princess lovable and kind. The King Was deemed most handsome. And there was within All Indrapura none to equal him. His education was what it should be, His conversation very affable. He loved the princess Lila Sari well. He gave her everything, and she in turn Was good to him, but yet she was so vain. "There is no one so beautiful as I," She said. They were united like unto The soul and body. And the good King thought There could not be another like his wife. One day they were together, and the Queen Began to sing: "Oh, come, my well-beloved, And listen to my words. Thou tellst me oft Thou lovest me. But I know not thy heart. If some misfortune were to overwhelm Wouldst thou be true to me?" He smiled and said: "No harm can touch thee, dear. But should it come, Whenever thou art 'whelmed I'll perish too." With joy the princess said: "My noble prince, If there were found a woman whose flower face Were fairer than all others in the world, Say, wouldst thou wed her?" And the King replied: "My friend, my fairest, who is like to thee? My soul, my princess, of a noble race, Thou'rt sweet and wise and good and beautiful. Thou'rt welded to my heart. No thought of mine Is separate from thee." The princess smiled; Her face was all transfigured with her joy. But suddenly the thought came to her mind, "Who knows there is none more fair than I?" And then she cried: "Now hear me, O my love! Were there a woman with an angel-face, Wouldst them make her thy wife? If she appeared Unto thine eyes more beautiful than I, Then would thy heart not burn for her?" The prince But smiled, and answered not. She also smiled, But said, "Since thou dost hesitate, I know That thou wouldst surely wed her." Then the prince Made answer: "O my heart, gold of my soul, If she in form and birth were like to thee I'd join her with thy destiny." Now when The princess heard these words she paled and shook. With eyes cast down, she left her royal spouse. But quick he seized her. With a smile he said: "Gold, ruby, dearest friend, I pray thee now, Oh, be not vexed with me. Light of my eyes, Keep not within thy heart a bitterness Because I answered thus unto thy words." He took her in his arms and kissed her lips And wooed her. And her face again grew sweet The while she heard. And yet her woman's heart Was grieved and saddened. And she sat apart, And swift these thoughts came to her anxious mind: "I'll seek to-morrow through this kingdom wide, Lest there should be within the land a maid More fair than I. To death I shall condemn Her straight, lest rival she may be to me. For if my lord should marry her, he'd love Her more than me. He'd love the younger one, And constantly my tortured heart would bleed." They angered her, these thoughts, as if her heart Were filled with gall. "Now may I be accursed If I go not unto the end in love." Her heart was not assuaged; she sighed alone. Upon the morrow morn the King went out, And with him many officers and men. Meanwhile the Princess Lila Sari sent A summons to a jeweller of skill, And at the same time called her four _dyangs_, Who came and sat. Dang Wilapat bowed low And said, "Our greetings to thee, princess great." The Queen replied: "Go forth, _dyangs_, at once And find me gold and dust of gold, and take It all unto a goldsmith. Let him make For me a fan, all decked with beauteous gems, With rubies red and pearls; and after that A girdle virginal. Count not the price. I want it all as quickly as may be." And so they hastened, took the gold, and went Outside the city, through the whole _campong_ Of goldsmiths, seeking there the best to make The fan and girdle. And the hammered gold Soon shone with many amethysts and gems. It was a marvel to behold those rare And quaintly fashioned ornaments, to deck A sultaness. Of priceless worth they were. Four days, and all was ready for the Queen. But she had never eaten all this time Because of grief. She thought the fan more fine Than Java princess ever yet possessed. She called the four _dyangs_ and said to them: "A secret mission have I now for ye. Go up and down among the officers And show this fan for sale, but never name The price. Seek ever if there be a face More beautiful than mine; and should ye find A face more fair, come tell it straight to me. If ye obey my will I'll make ye all Inspectresses within the royal home." Then forth the women went upon the quest. And first among their friends they went with words Of mystery and hints of wondrous things They had for sale. And so these servants bore The story to their masters, "The _dyangs_ Have something wonderful to sell." And soon The daughters of the houses rich began To clamor for a sight of this great prize. Then the _dyangs,_ went to the houses all. The young girls said, "Oh, tell us now the price." Dyang Wiravan quickly answered, then Dyang Podagah: "Tis a princely thing; I'll go and ask the price and tell it thee." And so they spoke, and so they looked about To find a face more beautiful and rare Than their own Queen's, and wearied in the search. "Where can we further look?" they said, and then Bethought them of the strangers and the priests. But in that quarter no one dared to touch The precious things, but thought it passing strange The Queen should wish to sell. To the _campong_ Of merchants next they went. A double line Of ramparts guarded it. "Here is more stir And gayety," they said, "with sport and song, Than elsewhere have we found." And so they sought The richest merchants. "We have something rare," They said, "made by an artist Javanese." When Bidasari's servants saw these folk They said: "Bring these things to our house and we Will show them to our master. He will buy." Then the _dyangs_ with smiles replied: "They are Not ours, but our good Queen's. And only we May show them, lest a stone be lost, perchance, And we be punished." Bidasari's maids Were glad and said, "Wait but a moment here Until we find what Bidasari wills." They found her with her maids, and told the tale. Then Bidasari bade them bring to her The stranger folk, and said, "If I be pleased I'll buy." Dang Ratna Watie went and told The women that young Bidasari wished To see their wares. The four _dyangs_ came in Together. Joy their faces all suffused, But they seemed timid, modest, full of fear. Then Bidasari's women said to them: "Come, O young women, all are loyal here. Enter, our sisters and our friends." Now when The Queen's _dyangs_ had looked about them there They all were dazzled, Bidasari's face So beautiful appeared. How beat their hearts! As they upon her lovely features gazed, Each murmured to herself, "She is more fair Than our great Queen." Then Bidasari wished To buy the fan, and sent a maid to ask Her parents for the gold. The merchant said, "Go see what thing it is, and weigh the gold For her." The mother feared a trap or trick. "Oh, do not buy the fan, my child," she said; "I'll buy a finer one for thee. Send this Away." But when her father saw her tears Of disappointment, "It is thine," he said. "What is the price? I'd buy it though it cost Thy weight in gold, my darling. Tell me now, _Dyangs_." Tjendra Melinee answered him, "Are two timbangs too much?" "I'm very poor," He said; "but I will buy it for the child." The gold was weighed. The four _dyangs_ straightway Departed, hurried to the Queen and said: "At last we have discovered, O our Queen, What thou hast sought. 'Tis in a near _campong_ Of merchants very rich and great. Oh, there We found a princess fairer than the day; More like an angel than a mortal maid. No woman in this land compares with her. Her name is Bidasari. And the King Would surely marry her if once they met, For soon she will be ready for a spouse; Her innocence is charming. Like a cloud The merchant and his wife keep watchful guard. Her hair is curly, like a flower full blown. Her brow is like the moon but one day old. She's like a ring in Peylou made. She would Outshine thy beauty, shouldst thou bring her here." The princess heard and quickly said: "I feel My hatred rise. Oh, may I never see Her face! To hear ye speak of her inflames My heart with anger. Say, why do ye think That she's more fair than I?" Then made reply The women: "Bidasari's eyes are soft. Her smile is sweet, her skin is tinted like The green _tjempakka_, and her graceful form Resembles some famed statue nobly made. Her cheeks are like the bill of flying bird. We loved to look upon her neck. Her nose Is like a jasmine bud. Her pretty face Is like the yellow of an egg. Her thoughts Are pure as crystal. And she wears her hair In such a charming way. Her lips are like A little polished box. The flowers she wears But make her look the prettier. Her teeth Are like a bright pomegranate. Ah, the heart Doth open when one looketh on her face. She's like a princess of the Mount Lidang. Her features are like those of Nilagendi, Her heels are like the eggs of hens, and make Her seem a princess of Siam. Her fingers More tapering are than quills of porcupine. And solid is the nail of her left hand. No noble's girl is Bidasari's peer." Now when the princess heard them sing her praise Her soul was wounded as if by a thorn. Her dark eyes flashed. "Ah, speak no more of her," She said, "nor speak abroad what ye have seen. But bring me Bidasari. I would see If what ye say be true." "Then we must take Her presents first, and strive to gain by them Her friendship, and attain our end at last." They went to see her every day, and bore Rich gifts. The merchant and his wife remarked The visits of the Queen's _dyangs_, and how They loved their daughter. That is why they gave Them all that they desired. But the _dyangs_ Among themselves kept saying: "How can we Take her away? We love her so, and deep Within our hearts we pity her. And now Her parents have such trust in us, and load Us down with gifts. But when, alas, at home The princess questions us, what shall we say? For she's a powerful Queen. Yet if we make Unhappy this dear girl of these good folk, Shall we not sin? And still the princess is So violent and harsh! Her jealousy Would know no limit should the King but hear Of this affair." Dang Djoudah answering spoke: "We all can go to her and quiet her. A word suffices oft. She is our Queen, But to the King belongeth power supreme. If Bidasari should disdain the throne We shall renounce our functions at the court, For what the Queen desires is most unjust. And if we prove unfaithful we shall be O'erwhelmed with maledictions." Thus they spoke And went back to the busy-lived _campong_ Of merchants. Here they thought to go and find Djouhara, and obtain what they desired. A messenger went after them and said: "To Dang Bidouri: Come at once; my friend The princess summons you." Then the _dyangs_ Went to the Queen and found her with the King At dinner. With malicious wink of eye She made them understand they must not talk Before the prince. When he had dined he took Some _siri_ from the betel-box, himself Anointed with a perfume sweet, and went To teach the young folk how to ride and shoot The arrow straight, and played at many games. Meanwhile the princess Lila Sari called Before her the _dyangs_ and questioned them: "Why have ye come so late?" Bidouri bowed And said: "'Twas very hard to bring her here To thee. The merchant and his wife do not A moment leave her, for they love her so. Her tiring-women ever are about. Thou shouldst demand her of her parents, if Thou dost desire to see her. Treat her like Thy child, for she is still so very young! From Bidasari's father thou wilt gain All that thou canst desire, he is so rich, If thou wilt only love his daughter dear. And dost thou give command to bring her here? Let us go all alone and summon her For Bidasari'll freely follow us." They tried to calm the anger of the Queen. She bowed her head in silence, but her soul Was very heavy, and hypocrisy With hate and envy vied within her heart. "They love the child, these _dyangs_," to herself She said, "and I shall have no easy task. I shall attract her here by trickery, But she shall never my companion be. With Bidasari once within my power My heart will be no longer on the rack. Go now, _dyangs_," she said, "and seek for me The merchant and his wife and hither bring Young Bidasari, whom I'll elevate Unto the rank of princess, for I have No child. Mazendra take with ye. And when Young Bidasari shall arrive, conceal Her for a day or two. And gently speak Unto the merchant and his wife, and say Concessions will be granted to the priests And strangers in their quarter, should she come. Console Lila Djouhara thus, and pledge That he may come to see his child whene'er His heart impelleth him." An escort went With them, and the _dyangs_ bowed low before The merchant and his wife, and greeted, too, Fair Bidasari. But the merchant said: "Why come ye here in so great numbers?" Then They straight replied: "Our most beloved Queen Hath sent us here with greetings unto thee, The master of the house. If thou'lt permit, We've come to seek fair Bidasari here." They beat their breasts, the merchant and his wife. "Our darling, only child! It will be hard For her to be the servant of a prince; For she hath had her way so long! Her traits Are not yet formed. Go back, _dyangs_, and pray The Queen to pardon us. Say how we grieve." But the _dyangs_ repeated all the words Said by the Queen, and so their fears were calmed. They hoped Queen Lila Sari would love well Fair Bidasari. Then the merchant said: "I will obey, and let my darling go, So that she may become unto the Queen A servant, and perchance a daughter loved. Now shall she go with ye. Only I beg The Queen to let her come back home to us At three days' end. She is not used to stay With strangers. Never hath she left us for A single day." Then Dang Bidouri said: "We'll do our best before the Queen; and why Should she not grant to Bidasari this?" They bathed fair Bidasari with sweet scents, And then arranged her in rich raiment new. A fine _sijrash_ she wore with broidered flowers Of Pekan, and a satin robe all fringed With gold. She bore a plaque of beaten gold Bound to a necklace, chiselled, gem-bedecked; Her over-tunic was of yellow silk With tiny serpents on the buttons 'graved. Three bracelets wore the maid, and rarest rings, And ear-rings like a wheel in motion wrought. Chaste links of gold set forth her beauty rare, A fair flow'r in a vase, whose perfume sweet Wafts scented breaths as far as one may see. They kissed her then with tears and held her close Upon their breasts. "Be humble to the Queen," They said, "remember that thou art before The King, and near the throne. Ask leave to come To see us when thou dost desire. Speak sweetly With low and gentle voice." Thus they enjoined. And then the merchant said, "_Dyangs_, if ye Love Bidasari, see ye vex her not." They dried their tears and said: "Be without fear. Intrust thy daughter to our mistress dear." "My child," he said, "I'll come to see thee oft. Thou wilt be better there, my love, than here." But Bidasari wept and cried: "Oh, come, Dear mother, with me! Wilt thou not, alas?" But the fond parents were astounded then To learn the mother was not asked to come. She stayed with tears, the while the father went. As far as to the city's gates. With tears He said: "Farewell, O apple of my eye I leave thee here. Fear not, my dearest child." Then Bidasari wept. Her heart was wrung. She went. The merchant followed with his eyes. She entered by a hidden door. _Dyangs_ And _mandars_ flocked to see her, but she hung Her head and kept her eyes downcast. The sun Announced the evening, and the King was still Surrounded by his officers. 'Twas then Fair Bidasari to the palace came, And stood before the Queen. All the _dyangs_ Sat on the floor, with servants of the house. Like the _pengawas_ Bidasari bowed, 'Mid the _dyangs_, in presence of the Queen. They gave her all the merchant's gifts, as sign Of homage. All astonished was the Queen At Bidasari's beauty. She appeared Almost divine. Bidouri spoke and said, "Thou seest Bidasari, O our Queen, Lila Djouhari's daughter." At these words The Queen was stupefied, and thought: "In truth 'Tis as they said. She is more lovely than The fairest work of art." Bidouri told All that the merchant and his wife had said. The Queen inclined her head and silence kept, But wicked thoughts were surging in her brain. A combat raged within her heart. She feared The King might see the maiden. "Send away," She said, "the nurses and the women all." Fair Bidasari wept when they retired. The princess called her to her side and said: "Thou must not weep so, Bidasari. They Will all return. When thou dost wish to go, They will go with thee. Now depart, _dyangs_. Ye need not care for Bidasari more. I will procure her dames of company And servants. You may come from time to time." So they arose, and, with prostrations, went. The Queen conducted Bidasari then Into a room and left her all alone, And all afraid. When evening shadows fell, The great King bade the Queen to sup with him. He sat beside her, smiled and gayly talked, As he had been young Bedouwandas, on His horse, with sword at belt. "My royal spouse, How thou dost love me! for thou wouldst not sup Without me, though thou needest food and drink." Now when the King had eaten, he retired Unto his sleeping-chamber. Still alone And weeping much, fair Bidasari stayed, In darkness with no one to speak to her. She thought on her dear parents. "O my God! Why dost Thou leave me here?" The solitude Filled her with terror, and she wept until The middle of the night, and thought of home. Out spake the King: "Now what is that I hear? What voice is that so sorrowful and sweet?" "It is an infant crying," said the Queen. "In all the darkness it has lost its way." Her heart was burning, and she sent a word To Bidasari that she must not weep, And held her peace and waited till the dawn. But Bidasari wept the whole night long And cried for home. When the _dyangs_ all ran To comfort her, they found the door was locked, And none could enter. Bidasari thought, "What wrong have I committed, that the Queen Should be so vexed with me?" When day appeared, To the pavilion went the King. The Queen Threw wide the door of Bidasari's room And entered all alone. Then Bidasari The Queen's hand kissed, and begged that she would let Her homeward fare. "O gracious Queen," she said, "Take pity on me; let me go away. I'll come to thee again." The wicked Queen Struck her, and said, "Thou ne'er shalt see again Thy home." The gentle Bidasari drooped Her head and wept afresh, shaking with fear. "Forgive the evil I have done, my Queen, For I am but a child, and do not know How I have sinned against thee," falling at Her feet she said. The Queen in anger struck Her once again. "I know full well," she said, "All thy designs and projects. What! Am I To rest in peace and see thy beauty grow, And thee become my rival with the King?" Then Bidasari knew 'twas jealousy That caused the fury of the Queen. Her fear Increased, she trembled and bewailed her fate. The livelong day she was insulted, struck, And of her food deprived. Before the King Returned, the Queen departed from the room Of Bidasari. The poor child had lost Her former color. Black her face had grown From blows, as if she had been burnt. Her eyes She could not open. Such her sufferings were She could not walk. Then unto God she cried: "O Lord, creator of the land and sea, I do not know my fault, and yet the Queen Treats me as guilty of a heinous crime. I suffer hell on earth. Why must I live? Oh, let me die now, in the faith, dear Lord. My soul is troubled and my face is black With sorrow. Let me die before the dawn. My parents do not help me. They have left Me here alone to suffer. In the false _Dyangs_ I trusted, as to sisters dear. Their lips are smiling, but their hearts are base. Their mouths are sweet as honey, but their hearts Are full of evil. Oh, what can I say? It is the will of God." Such was the grief Of Bidasari, and her tears fell fast. Now when the King went forth again, the Queen Began anew her persecutions harsh. With many blows and angry words, she said: "Why dost thou groan so loudly? Dost thou seek By crying to attract the King, to see Thy beauty? 'Tis thy hope, I know full well, His younger wife to be. And thou art proud Of all thy beauty." Bidasari was Astounded, and replied with many tears: "May I accursed be if ever I Such plottings knew. Thou art a mighty Queen. If I have sinned against thee, let me die At once. For life is useless to the hearts That suffer. Hast thou brought me here to beat? How thou hast made me weep! O Queen, art thou Without compassion?" All possessed with rage The Queen replied: "I do not pity thee. I hate thee, when I see thee. Open not Thy mouth again." The wicked Queen then seized The lovely tresses of the beauteous maid, And took a piece of wood with which to strike; But Bidasari wept and swooned away. The King's voice sounded through the corridor, As he returned. The Queen then hastened forth And left a _mandar_ there to close and guard Fair Bidasari's room, that nothing should Be seen. Then asked the King of her, "Whom hast Thou beaten now?" The hypocrite replied, "It was a child that disobeyed my will." "Are there not others for that discipline? Is it for thee to strike?" His _siri_ then He took, and kissed the Queen with fondest love. All the _dyangs_ fair Bidasari's plight Observed, and kindly pity filled their breasts. "How cruel is the conduct of the Queen!" They said. "She made us bring her to her side But to maltreat the child the livelong day. It seems as if she wished to slay her quite." Then secretly they went, with some to watch, And sprinkled Bidasari's brow. To life She came, and opened those dear wistful eyes. "My friends," she said, "I pray ye, let me go Back home again unto my father's house." "Oh, trust in God, my child," said one in tears. "My lot is written from eternity. Oh, pray the princess great to take my life," The poor child cried; "I can no longer stand; My bones are feeble. Oh, she has no heart!" But the _dyangs_, for fear the Queen might see, All fled. Meanwhile the merchant and his wife Wept all the day, and sighed for their dear child, Sweet Bidasari. Nor did gentle sleep Caress their eyes at night. Each day they sent Rich presents of all kinds, and half of them Were for the child. But naught the wicked Queen To Bidasari gave. So five days passed And then Dyang Menzara forth they sent. The merchant said: "Oh, tell the mighty Queen That I must Bidasari see. I'll bring Her back in three days' time." The good _Dyang_ went to the queen and bowing low: "The merchant fain would see his child," she said. At this the features of the Queen grew hard. "Did they not give their child to me? Now scarce A day has passed, and they must see her face. Is it thine own wish or the merchant's? I Have said the girl could go where'er she would. Can I not have her taken back myself?" Then the _dyang_ bowed, beat her breast, and went, Sad that she could not Bidasari see, And quaking at the anger of the Queen. Of the _dyang_, fair Bidasari heard The voice, and felt her heart break that she could Not speak to her and send a message home. Upon the morrow, when the King had gone Among his ministers and men of state, The Queen again to Bidasari's room Repaired, to beat her more. As soon as she Beheld the Queen, poor Bidasari prayed To her, "O sovereign lady great, permit That I may go unto my father's house." The princess shook with rage, her face on fire. "If thou but sayest a word, I'll slay thee here." To whom could Bidasari turn? She bent Before the will of God, and in a sweet Voice said: "O Lord, my God, have pity now Upon me, for the cruel world has none. Grant now the Queen's desire and let me die, For she reproacheth me, though naught I've done. My parents have forgotten me, nor send A word." The angry princess struck again Her piteous face, and as she swooned away A napkin took to twist into a cord And strangle her. She summoned to her aid Dang Ratna Wali. "Help me pluck this weed; I wish to kill her." But the woman fled, As base as cruel. Bidasari's ghost Arose before her. Yet the child came back To consciousness, and thought amid her tears: "I'll tell the story of the golden fish Unto the Queen, that she may know it all; For I can but a little while endure These pains." She spoke then to the Queen and said: "O Queen, thou dost desire that I shall die. Seek out a little casket that doth lie All hidden in the fish-pond at our house. Within it is a fish. Have it brought here And I will tell thee what it signifies." The princess called Dyang Sendari: "Go And bring here the _dyangs_, with no delay From out the merchant's house." When they arrived: "Go, now, _dyangs_, for Bidasari saith There is a little casket in the pond Where she is wont to bathe. Go bring it me, In silence, letting no one see ye come." Then the _dyangs_ replied: "Oh, hear our prayer For Bidasari. How her parents grieve! Oh, pardon, princess, let her go with us." The Queen with smiles responded: "The young girl Is very happy here, and full of joy. Her parents must not grieve, for in two days If Bidasari doth desire to go I'll send her freely. She is vexed that ye Come here so often." The _dyangs_ bowed low, And smiled, and called enticingly: "Come forth, O charming child, pure soul; it is not right To treat us so, for we have come to see Thy lovely face, and in its beauty bask." Sweet Bidasari heard, and could not speak, But answered with her tears. The cruel Queen Said to them: "Speak no more. But if ye bring The little casket, ye will fill the heart Of Bidasari with great joy." Forth fared Then the _dyangs_, and found the casket small, And brought it to the palace of the Queen. Again to Bidasari called the good _Dyangs_: "Oh, come, dear heart, and take it from Our hands yourself." "She sleeps," the princess said. "Come back to-morrow." So they bowed and went. The princess hastened with the casket rich To Bidasari's room, and opened it Before her eyes. Within it was a box Of agate, beautiful to see, and filled With water wherein swam a little fish Of form most ravishing. The princess stood Amazed to see with eyes of fire a fish That swam. Then was she glad, and spoke with joy To Bidasari: "Say what signifies The fish to thee? What shall I do with it?" Then Bidasari bowed and said: "My soul Is in that fish. At dawn must thou remove It from the water, and at night replace. "Leave it not here and there, but hang it from Thy neck. If this thou dost, I soon shall die. My words are true. Neglect no single day To do as I have said, and in three days Thou'lt see me dead." The Queen felt in her heart A joy unspeakable. She took the fish And wore it on a ribbon round her neck. Unto the Queen then Bidasari spoke, "Oh, give my body to my parents dear When I am dead." Again the young maid swooned. The Queen believed her dead, and ceased to beat Her more. But she yet lived, though seeming dead. The joyful Queen a white cloth over her Then spread, and called aloud to the _dyangs_, "Take Bidasari to her father's house." They groaned and trembled when they saw that she Was dead, and said with many tears: "Alas! O dearest one, O gold all virginal! What shall we say when we thy parents see? They'll beat their breasts and die of grief. They gave Thee to the King because they trusted us." But the proud Queen, her face all red with hate: "Why stay ye? Take the wretched girl away." They saw the Queen's great rage, and bore the maid Upon their shoulders forth, and carried her Unto her father's house at dead of night. Fear seized the merchant. "Say what bring ye here? Tell me, _dyangs_." They placed her on the ground. The merchant and his wife, beside themselves, With tears embraced her form. "I trusted in The Queen, and so I sent my child to her. O daughter dear, so young, so pure, so sweet, What hast thou done that could the Queen displease, That she should send thee home like this to me? How could the Queen treat Bidasari so? For seven days she imprisoned her and sent Her home in death. Ah, noble child! alas! Thy father's heart will break, no more to hear Thy voice. Speak to thy father, O my child, My pearl, my gem of women, purest gold, Branch of my heart; canst thou not quiet me? O Bidasari, why art thou so still? Arise, my pretty child, arise and play With all thy maids. Here is thy mother, come To greet thee. Bid her welcome. Why art thou So motionless? Hast thou no pity, dear, To see thy father overwhelmed with woe? My heart is bursting with despair because Thou'rt lost to me." Long time the merchant thus Lamented. "What have I to live for now? Since thou art dead, thy father too shall die. It is his lot both night and day to sigh For thee. My God, I cannot understand Why this dear child should thus a victim be! 'Tis the _dyangs_ who have this evil wrought." Then, through the whole _campong_, the merchants all Made lamentations, rolling on the ground, With noise of thunder, and their hearts on fire. They sought to speak and could not. Then began Again the merchant, and unto his friends Told his misfortune, asking back his child. The Queen's _dyangs_ shed tears, and gently said: "Speak not so loudly. Thou dost know that we Are but poor servants, and we tremble lest The Queen should hear. If any one of us Had done this wrong, we'd tell it to the King. Fate only is at fault. Oh, be not wroth With us. Our will was good. We had no end Except to see thy lovely daughter great And powerful. Naught the King hath known of this. It was the Queen's mad jealousy and hate." The merchant and his wife accepted these, The _dyangs'_ words. "It is as they declare. The Queen was jealous and embittered thus Against our Bidasari. To your home Return, _dyangs_. I fear me that the Queen May learn of your delay and punish ye." They bowed and went, with hearts of burning grief. The merchant and his wife then lifted up Poor Bidasari. They were all but dead With sorrow. On his knees the father took The body wrapped in crimson silk. He felt A warmth. Then he remembered that within The water was her vital spirit still, And, placing her upon a mat, sent Dang Poulam, the casket from the pond to bring. But 'twas not there. Then all the household searched, But found it not. The merchant beat his breast. "Branch of my heart," he said, "we all had thought Thou wouldst become a princess. I have lost My reason. I hoped now to summon back Thy spirit vital, but the casket's lost. My hope is gone. It may be the _dyangs_ Have stolen it. They're faithful to the Queen. We may not trust in them. They're filled with hate And trickery." Unconscious all the time Lay Bidasari; but at midnight's hour She for the first time moved. They torches brought And there behind Egyptian curtains, right And left, ignited them, with many lamps' Soft flames. The servants watched and waited there. The father, always at his daughter's side, With fixed glance looked for life to come once more Back to his darling one. She moved again. With opening eyes she saw and recognized Her own soft couch, her parents, and her maids. She tried but could not speak. Her hot tears fell, She slowly turned and looked with fondest love Upon her parents. When the merchant saw That Bidasari's spirit had returned, He took her on his knees and gave her rice. She could not walk because such pain she felt. She thought upon the Queen and wept afresh. They dried her tears, and placed within her mouth What food she liked. The merchant tenderly Said, "Bidasari, dear, what has thou wrought To cause the Queen against thee thus to act?" Young Bidasari, with a flood of tears, replied: "No wrong at all I wrought the cruel Queen. All suddenly her insults she began, And beatings." They were stupefied to hear Such tales. "Light of my eyes," the father said, "We do not doubt thine innocence. Her deeds Were those of madness. For her haughty birth I care no whit. Wisdom and virtue bind True hearts alone. As friends we ne'er must name Those false _dyangs_. Not plants medicinal, But poison foul, are they. These days are bad. Injustice reigns. Believe me, friends, it is A sign the last great day shall soon appear. Those false _dyangs_ are but a race of slaves, Insensible to all that's good. The hour The princess knoweth Bidasari lives, We all shall die, the princess is so wroth. Illustrious Queen they call her--but her words Are hard and cruel. May the curse of God O'erwhelm her and annihilate! From thee, O God, she shall receive the punishment Deserved. She who pursueth thus a soul Shall know remorse and pain. So God hath willed. So God hath willed. Who doth another harm Shall suffer in his turn. It shall be done To him as he hath done to others. So, My child, my crown, have no more fear at all. Intrust thyself to God. The cruel Queen Shall yet be treated as she treated thee." The merchant thus lamented till the night Was half departed, shedding sapphire tears. The innocent young girl, like marble there, Slept till the evening twilight came. Toward dawn She swooned anew. The merchant and his wife Were much disturbed to see at night she came To life, but when the daylight shone again They lost her, and her spirit fled away. This so distressed the merchant's heart, a lone Retreat he sought to find. The parents cried: "O dearest child, there's treason in the air. Hatred and anger the companions are Of lamentations and of curses dire. Foul lies for gold are uttered. Men disdain The promises of God, the faith they owe. Oh, pardon, God! I ne'er thought the _dyangs_ Would thus conspire. But since they are so bad And treated Bidasari thus, we'll go And in the desert find a resting-place. And may it be a refuge for us all, Hidden and unapproachable." His goods He gathered then, and all his servants paid, And built a home far in the desert land, A spot agreeable. A cabin there He raised, with ramparts hemmed about, and strong _Sasaks_, and seven rows of palisades. They placed there many vases full of flowers, And every sort of tree for fruit and shade, And cool pavilions. This plaisance so fair They called Pengtipourlara. It was like The garden of Batara Indra. All About, the merchant set pomegranate-trees And vines of grape. No other garden was So beautiful. 'Twas like the garden fair Of great Batara Brahma, filled with fruits. When all was ready, forth they went, toward night, And took young Bidasari, and much food. They fared two days and came unto the spot, A garden in the desert. Softest rugs From China there were spread and of bright hue The decorations were, in every tint. The house was hung with tapestries, and ceiled To represent the heavens flecked with clouds. And all about were lanterns hung and lamps. Soft curtains and a couch completed this Enchanted resting-place. Always the light Was uniform, and brilliant as the day. 'Twas like a palace of a mighty king, Magnificent and grand beyond compare. There was a table on a damp rug set, With drinks for Bidasari, and with bowls Of gold, and vases of _souasa_, filled With water. All of this beside the couch Was placed, with yellow _siri_, and with pure _Pinang_, all odorous, to please the child. And all was covered with a silken web. Young Bidasari bracelets wore, and rings, And ear-rings diamond studded. Garments four All gem-bedecked upon a cushion lay, For Bidasari's wear. When night had come Young Bidasari waked. Her parents dear Then bathed her, and her tender body rubbed With musk and aloes. Then she straight was clad In garments of her choosing. Her dear face Was beautiful, almost divine. She had Regained the loveliness she erst possessed. The merchant was astonished, seeing her. He told her then that they would leave her there, "Branch of my heart and apple of my eye, My dearest child, be not disturbed at this. I do not mean to work thee any harm, Nor to disown thee, but to rescue thee From death." But as she listened to these words Young Bidasari wept. She thought upon Her fate. Into her father's arms she threw Herself, and cried: "Why wilt thou leave me here, O father dearest, in this desert lone? I'll have no one to call in case of need. I fear to stay alone. No one there'll be To talk to me. I only count those hours As happy when I have my parents near." The merchant heard fair Bidasari's words And wept with his dear wife. With bitter grief Their hearts were shattered. Counsels wise they gave To Bidasari. "Dearest daughter mine," The father said, "gem of my head, my crown, Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, oh, hear Thy father's words, and be thou not afraid. We brought thee hither, to this fair retreat, Far from the town, for, if the Queen should know Thou liv'st at night, the false _dyangs_ would come, And who against the princess can contend? They'd take thee back, and thus exonerate Themselves. I'd let myself be chopped in bits Before thou shouldst unto the Queen return. Thy father cannot leave companions here, But after three days he will come to thee. Thy parents both will soon come back again." Then Bidasari thought: "My parent's words Are truth, and if the Queen should find I live She would abuse me as before. Give me One maid-companion here to be with me," She asked. "My child, trust not," he said, "in slaves, Nor servants, for they only follow pay." Then Bidasari silence kept, and they, The father all distraught and mother fond, Wept bitterly at thought of leaving her. Fair Bidasari bade them eat, before They started. But because of heavy hearts They but a morsel tasted. At the dawn Young Bidasari swooned again. They made All ready to return to town. With tears The father said: "O apple of my eye, Pearl of all women, branch of my own heart, Pure gold, thy parents leave thee with distress. No more they'll have a daughter in the house. But, dear, take courage, we shall soon come back." They left here with a talking bird to cheer Her loneliness, close shutting all the gates Of all the seven ramparts. Through a wood Bushy and thick they took a narrow path, In sorrow, but with confidence in God. "O sovereign God, protect our child," they said. When they had fared unto their house, they prayed And gave much alms. When evening shadows came Young Bidasari waked, and found herself Alone, and was afraid. With bitter tears Her eyes were filled. What could she say? She gave Herself to God. Alas, our destiny Is like a rock. Twas hers to be alone. It is in no man's power to turn aside Or change whatever is by fate decreed. All desolate sat Bidasari. Sleep Wooed not her eyes. Now when he heard the cry Of "Peladou," the owl lamented loud. Upon her parents coming, loaded down With dainties for the child, she for a while Her woe forgot, and ate and drank with joy. The little bird with which she talked upheld Her courage with its soothing voice. So ran The days away. Upon pretext he gave Of hunting deer, the merchant daily came. SONG III Hear now a song about the King Djouhan. The wise and powerful prince e'er followed free His fancy, and the Princess Lila Sari Was very happy in her vanity. Since she had killed (for so she thought) the maid, Young Bidasari, tainted was her joy. "The King will never take a second wife," She mused, "since Bidasari is now dead." The King loved Princess Lila Sari well. He gratified her every wish, and gave Her all she asked, so fond was he of her. Whene'er the princess was annoyed, the King, With kisses and soft words would quiet her, And sing to her sweet songs till she became Herself again. "Poor, little, pretty wife," He'd say, and laugh her fretful mood away. One night as he lay sleeping on his bed, A dream tormented him. "What may it mean?" He thought. "Ah, well, to-morrow morn I'll seek An explanation." At the dawn he sat Upon a rug Egyptian, breaking fast, And with him was the princess. When she had The dainties tasted, the _dyangs_ arrived With leaves of perfume. Then the King went forth Into the garden. All the officers Were there assembled. When they saw the King They all were silent. To a _mantri_ spoke The King: "My uncle, come and sit thee here. I fain would question thee." The King had scarce These words pronounced, when, bowing very low, The _mantri_ in respectful tones replied, "My greetings to thee, O most merciful Of kings." He sat him near the throne. "I dreamed Last night," the King continued, "that the moon In her full glory fell to earth. What means This vision?" Then the _mantri_ with a smile Replied: "It means that thou shalt find a mate, A dear companion, like in birth to thee, Wise and accomplished, well brought up and good, The one most lovable in all the land." The King's eyes took new fire at this. He said With smiles: "I gave the Queen my promise true That never I would take a second wife Until a fairer I could find than she. And still she is so lovely in my eyes, Her equal cannot anywhere be found. You'd take her for a flow'r. Yet when arise Her storms of anger, long it takes to calm Her mind, so waspish is her character. The thought of this doth sadden me. Should one Not satisfy her heart's desire, she flies Into a passion and attempts to kill Herself. But 'tis my destiny--'tis writ. The Queen is like a gem with glint as bright As lightning's flash. No one can ever be, I tell thee now, so beautiful to me." The _mantri_ smiled. "What thou dost say is just, O King, but still if thou shouldst someone find More beautiful, thou yet couldst keep thy word. The beauty of the Queen may fade away. The princess thou shalt wed, O King, hath four High qualities. She must, to be thy queen, Be nobly born, and rich, and fair, and good." The prince replied: "O uncle mine, thy words Are true. Full many princesses there live, But hard it is to find these qualities. The Queen is good and wise and lovable. I do not wish another wife to wed, And wound the Queen with whom three years I've lived In love and harmony. Yet if I saw A quite celestial maid, perhaps I might Forget, and marry her, and give the Queen A gay companion." "O accomplished prince, Thou sayest truly. Stay long years with her Thy Queen, thy first beloved, for she hath all-- Great beauty and intelligence." They bowed As forth from them the King went palaceward. He sat beside the Queen, and kissed her cheeks, And said: "Thy features shine with loveliness, Like to a jewel in a glass. When I Must leave thy side, I have no other wish But to return. Like Mount Maha Mirou Thou art." The princess said: "Wherefore art thou So spirited to-day? Thou'rt like a boy." "Branch of my heart, my dearest love," he said, "Vex not thyself. Thou know'st the adage old: First one is taken with a pretty face, Then wisdom comes and prudence, and, with these, One loves his wife until the day of death. If thus thou dost deport thyself, my dear, My heart between two wives shall never be Divided; thou alone shalt own it all." The Queen was charmed to hear his loving words. At night the Queen slept, but King remained Awake, and watched the moon, and called to mind His dream. As dawn approached he slept, and seemed To hear an owl's shrill voice, like Pedalou's. When it was fully day, the royal pair Together broke their fast. The King went forth And orders gave, in two days to prepare A mighty hunt, to chase the dappled deer, With men and dogs and all apparel fit. Then back into the palace went the King, And told the Queen, who straightway gave commands For food to be made ready. At midnight Behind Egyptian curtains went to rest The King and Queen, but slept not. Still the dream Was ever in his thoughts and worried him. At dawn he said farewell unto the Queen. She was all radiant, and smiling, said: "Bring me a fawn. I'll tell the servants all To take good care of it, so it may grow Quite tame." "What we can do, my dear, we shall, So all of thy desires may come to pass." And so the King took leave, with kisses fond, And, mounted on a hunter brown, set forth, With velvet saddle decked with fringe of pearls. Lances and shields and arrows and blow-guns They bore. The wood they entered, and the beasts All fled before their steps at dawn's first ray. And when the sun was up, they loosed the hounds With savage cries. Toward noon an animal In flight they saw, and would have followed it, But then up spake the King and said, "We are So hot and weary, let us linger here For rest." One-half the company astray Had gone, each striving to be first of all. The King, attended by a faithful three, Reclined upon the ground, and sent them forth For water. So the _mantris_ went to find A river or a pond, and faring far To Bidasari's plaisance came at last. They stopped astounded, then approached the place. When they were near the lovely garden close, They said: "There was no garden here before. To whom does this belong? Perchance it is A spirit's bower. No human voice is heard But just the cry of 'minahs' and 'bajans.' Whom shall we call, lest spectres should appear?" They wandered round the ramparts, and a gate Discovered, shut with heavy iron bar, And vainly tried to open it. Then one Of them went back, and found the King, and said: "Hail, sovereign lord, we have no water found, But a _campong_ here in the desert lone, As splendid as a sultan's, with all sorts Of trees and flow'rs, and not a mortal there. 'Tis girt about with double ramparts strong. No name is seen, and all the gates are shut, So that we could not enter." Scarce the King Had heard the _mantri's_ word when off he rushed To see the fair domain. Before the gate He stood astonished. "Truly, _mantris_ mine, It is as you have said. I once was here And then the wood was filled with thorns and briers." "'Tis not a nobleman's _campong_. It must Have recently been made. Now summon all The _mantris_ here and see what they will say." They called aloud, "Oh, hasten, friends, and bring The water here." Seven times they called, but none Responded. Said the King, "It is enough. 'Tis like as if one called unto the dead." "We'd best not enter," said the _mantris_ then, "It may be the abode of demons fell. We are afraid. Why should we linger here? Return, O King, for should the spirits come It might to us bring evil. Thou shouldst not Expose thyself to danger." But the King Upon the _mantris_ smiled. "Ye are afraid Of demons, spectres, spirits? I've no fear. Break down the barriers. I'll go alone Within the precincts." When the gates were forced, He entered all alone. The _mantris_ all Were terrified lest harm should come to him. They sought with him to go. He lightly said: "No, _mantris_ mine, whatever God hath willed, Must happen. If in flames I were to burn, In God I still should trust. 'Tis only He That evil can avert. We mortal men No power possess. With my own eyes I wish To see this apparition. Should it be The will of God, I'll come forth safe and sound. Be not disturbed. In case of urgent need I'll call upon ye. All await me here." The _mantris_ made obeisance and replied, "Go, then, alone, since thou hast willed it so." Into the plaisance strode the King. He saw That all was like a temple richly decked, With rugs of silk and colored tapestries Of pictured clouds and wheels all radiant, And lamps and candelabra hung about, And lanterns bright. 'Twas like a palace rich. The eyes were dazzled with magnificence. And seats there were, and dainty tables rare. As through the palace went the King, the more Astonished he became at all he saw, But nowhere found a trace of human soul. Then spake the little bird: "Illustrious King, What seek'st thou here? This mansion is the house Of ghosts and demons who will injure thee." The King was filled with wonder thus to hear A bird address him. But it flew away, And hid behind a couch. "The bird I'll find," He said, and ope'd the curtains soft. He saw Full stretched, upon a bed in dragon's shape, A human form, in heavy-lidded sleep That seemed like death, and covered with a cloth Of blue, whose face betokened deepest grief. "Is it a child celestial?" thought the King, "Or doth she feign to sleep? Awake, my sweet, And let us be good friends and lovers true." So spake the King, but still no motion saw. He sat upon the couch, and to himself He said: "If it a phantom be, why are The eyes so firmly shut? Perhaps she's dead. She truly is of origin divine, Though born a princess." Then he lifted high The covering delicate that hid the form Of Bidasari sweet, and stood amazed At all the magic beauty of her face. Beside himself, he cried, "Awake, my love." He lifted her and said, with kisses warm, "Oh, have no fear of me, dear heart. Thy voice Oh, let me hear, my gold, my ruby pure, My jewel virginal. Thy soul is mine. Again he pressed her in his arms, and gave Her many kisses, chanting love-songs low. "Thou dost not wake, O dearest one, but thou Art yet alive, because I see thee breathe. Sleep not too long, my love. Awake to me, For thou hast conquered with thy loveliness My heart and soul." So fell the King in love With Bidasari. "Ah, my sweet," he said, "In all the world of love thou'rt worthiest." The _mantris_ grew uneasy at his stay. They rose and said: "What doth the King so long? If harm befell him, what would be our fate? Oh, let us call him back at once, my lords." So one approached the palace, and cried out: "Return, O prince accomplished, to us now. Already night is near. Back thou may'st come To-morrow ere the dawn. We are afraid Lest spirits harm thee. Come, O King, for we A-hungered are, and wait for thy return." But the illustrious prince was mad with love Of Bidasari. Pensively he cried: "Branch of my heart, light of mine eyes, my love, Pure gold, thou'rt like angel. Now must I Depart. To-morrow I will come again." With no more words he left her, but returned. "My heart would tell me, wert thou really dead. Some trouble hast thou, dearest one?" he cried. "What bitter grief hath caused thee thus to sleep?" He found the nobles murmuring and vexed. "O King," they said, "our hearts were filled with fear Lest evil had befallen thee. What sight So strange hath kept thee all these hours?" The King Replied with laughter, "There was naught to see." But they remarked his brow o'ercast with thought, And said, "O King, thy heart is sorely vexed." "Nay, nay," the King replied, "I fell asleep. Naught did I hear except the _mantri's*_ voice. It surely is the home of demons dread And spirits. Let us go, lest they surprise Us here." He seemed much moved. "We naught have gained But weariness. So let us all go home To-night, and hither come again at dawn. For I a promise gave the Queen to bring A fawn and a _kidjang_." The _mantris_ said: "None have we taken yet. But game we'll find To-morrow, and will save a pretty fawn." The King, when they returned, went straight within The palace. There he saw the Queen, but thought Of Bidasari. "O my love," he said, "To-morrow I'm resolved to hunt again, And bring thee back a fawn, and win thy thanks. I'm never happy when away from thee, My dearest love. Thine image is engraved Upon my heart." Then he caressed the Queen And fondled her, but still his heart went out To Bidasari. All night long his eyes He did not close in sleep, but thought of her, In all her beauty rare. Before the dawn The royal couple rose. The King then gave Command that those who wished should hunt again With him. At sunrise forth they fared. On Bidasari let us look again. When night had gone, in loneliness she rose, And ate and drank. Then to the bath perfumed She went, and coming to her chamber, took Some _siri_ from the betel-box. She saw A _sepah_ recently in use and cast It forth. She thought within herself: "Who could have used it? Someone hath been here." She ran through all the rooms, but nothing found Except the _sepah_ in the betel-box. "Had it my father been, he would have left Some food for me. Oh, he is very rash To leave me here alone." Upon the couch She sat and wept, and could not tell her grief To anyone. "When we no longer may Live happily," she said, "'tis best to die. My parents never can forgiven be, To leave me here like any infidel. And if I suffer, they will sorrow, too." The _minahs_, the _bajans_, and talking birds Began to sing. She took a 'broidered cloth, And 'neath its folds she sweetly fell asleep. The King's horse flew apace to the _campong_ Of Bidasari. All the _mantris_ said: "Thou takest not the path for hunting, sire; This is but the _campong_ of demons dread And spectres. They may do us deadly harm." The great prince only laughed, and made as if He heard not, still directing his fleet course To Bidasari's garden, though they sought His wishes to oppose. When they arrived Before the palisades, the _mantris_ cried: "Avaunt, ye cursed demons, and begone Into the thorns and briers." Then to the King: "If thou wilt prove the courage of thy men, Lead us behind the barriers, among The evil spirits. We will go with thee." "Nay. Let me go alone," the prince replied, "And very shortly I'll come forth again." They said: "O prince, to us thy will is law. To God most high do we commend thy soul." Alone the prince in Bidasari's home Set foot. He was astonished, for he saw the bath Had recently been used, and all the lamps Were trimmed and full of oil. Then opening The chests, he saw the traces of a meal, And glasses freshly drained. The chambers all He searched, and came to Bidasari's couch, And, lifting up the curtains, saw her there, Asleep beneath the 'broidered covering. "Tis certain that she lives," he said. "Perchance It is her lot to live at night, and die At dawn." Then came he nearer yet, and gazed Upon her beauty. Ling'ring tears he saw Bedewed her lashes long, and all his heart Was sad. Her face was beautiful. Her locks Framed * with curls most gracefully. He took Her in his arms and cried, with kisses warm: "Why hast thou suffered, apple of my eye?" He wept abundantly, and said: "My gold, My ruby, my carbuncle bright, thy face Is like Lila Seprara's, and thy birth Is pure and spotless. How could I not love A being fair as thou dost seem to me? Thy beauty is unspeakable; thou art Above all crowns, the glory of all lands. My soul adores thee. Lord am I no more Of my own heart. Without thee, love, I could No longer live; thou art my very soul. Hast thou no pity to bestow on me?" The more he looked the more he loved. He kissed Her ruby lips, and sang this low _pantoum_: SONG Within a vase there stands a china rose; Go buy a box of betel, dearest one. I love the beauty that thine eyes disclose; Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun. Go buy a box of betel, dearest one. Adorned with _sountings_ brave of sweet _campak_, Of my existence, dear, thou art the sun; Without thee, everything my life would lack. Adorned with _sountings_ fair of sweet _campak_, A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare; Without thee, everything my heart would lack; Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair. A carafe tall will hold the sherbet rare, Most excellent for woman's feeble frame. Thou'rt like an angel come from heaven so fair, Love's consolation, guardian of its flame. At the approach of night the _mantris_ said, "What doth the King so long away from us?" They were disturbed, the prince seemed so unlike Himself and filled with such unrestfulness. "I fear me much," then said a _mantri_ there, "That some mishap hath overwhelmed the King. Perhaps by some bad spirit he's possessed, That he to this weird spot should fain return." One went and cried: "Come hither, O our King! The day declines; we've waited here since dawn." The King responded to the call, and came With smiling face, though pale, unto the gate: "Come here, my uncle; come and talk with me, Thy King. No evil thing hath come to pass." "O lord supreme, most worthy prince, return. If harm should come to thee, we all should die." "Be calm, my uncle, I will not this night Return, but he may stay with me who wills." "O King, with spirits what hast thou to do? Thy face is pale and worn, and tells of care." The King but sighed, and said: "My heart is full Of trouble, but the will of God is good. Here yesterday a fair celestial form With angel face I saw. 'Twas here alone." And so the King told all that had occurred. "Go back," he added. "Leave me here with her. Say to the Queen I've lingered still a day For my amusement, with my retinue." Then half the escort stayed, and half repaired Back to the palace to acquaint the Queen The King would stay another day and hunt. When all was dark, sweet Bidasari waked And saw the King, and tried to flee away. He seized and kissed her. "Ruby, gold," he said, "My soul, my life, oh, say, where wouldst thou go? I've been alone with thee for two whole days, And all the day thou wrapped in sleep didst lie. Where wouldst thou go, my dove?" The gentle girl Was much afraid and trembled, and she thought: "Is it a spirit come to find me here? Avaunt thee and begone, O spectre dread," She said, amid her tears. "No phantom I," Replied the King; "be not afraid. I wish To marry thee." Then Bidasari strove Again to flee. Then sang the King a song That told of love and happiness. Its words Astonished Bidasari, and she cried: "Art thou a pirate? Why dost thou come here? Speak not such things to me. If thou shouldst be Discovered by my father, he would cut Thee into pieces. Thou shouldst go alone To death, and find no pardon in his heart. Take all my gems and hasten forth at once." The King replied: "'Tis not thy gems I want, But thee. I am a pirate, but thy heart Is all I want to steal. Should spectres come In thousands, I would fear them not at all. No tears, my love, bright glory of my crown. Where wouldst thou go? Hast thou no pity, sweet, For me? I am a powerful prince. Who dares Oppose my will? Pure gold, all virginal, Where wouldst thou go?" So spake the King, and fair Young Bidasari trembled more and more. "Approach me not," she cried, "but let me bathe My face." "I'll bathe it for thee, dear," he said. But Bidasari threw the water pure Into his face. "Not that way, child," he laughed; "My vesture thou hast wet. But I shall stay And meet thy parents here. Oh, hearken, love. I followed far the chase, and wandered here. I sought a pretty fawn to take the Queen; But now thy face I've seen, no more I wish To go away. Oh, have no fear, my child; I would not harm thee. When thy parents come, I'll ask them for thy hand. I trust they'll grant My prayer. I'll lead thee forth from this fair spot Unto my palace. Thou shalt sit beside The Queen, and live in happiness complete." Sweet Bidasari bowed her head and wept, All red with modesty. Unto herself she said: "I never thought it was a king. How rude I was! I hope the King will not be vexed." He calmed her fears with tender words of love. "Branch of my heart," he said, "light of my eyes, Have no more fear. Soon as thy parents fond Have given their consent, I'll lead thee forth. My palace is not far. A single day Will take us there. It is not difficult To go and come." Then Bidasari knew It was the King of that same land. With fright She nearly swooned at thought of all the woe The Queen had caused her. "O my lord," she said, "I'm but a subject humble. Give me not The throne. I have my parents, and with them Must stay." The King was overjoyed. "My dear," He said, "by what names are thy parents known?" With low, sweet voice the tender girl replied: "Lila Djouhara is my father's name. He dwelleth in Pesara." "Dearest one, Tell me the truth. Why have they treated thee In such a fashion--why abandoned thee In solitude? Thy father is not poor A merchant rich is he, of birth, who hath A host of slaves and servants. For what cause Hath he his daughter left in this far spot? He is renowned among the merchants all, Both good and honest. What hath forced him here Within this lonely wood to hide thee, dear? Oh, tell me all; let nothing be concealed." She thought: "It was the fault of his own Queen. But if I tell him all--he never saw Me there, within the palace--should he not Believe, I'll be a liar in his eyes." She feared to speak and tell him of the Queen. She thought, "So cruel was the Queen to me When she but feared a rival, what would come If I should sit beside her on the throne?" Then in her sweet voice Bidasari said: "My glorious King, I am afraid to speak. I am not suited to a royal throne. But since thou lovest me, how dare I lie? If thou dost favor me, the Queen will vex Her heart. My parents fear her. 'Tis the cause Why hither they have brought me. Three long months Ago I came, for terror of the Queen." She thought on all the horror of those days, And choked with sobs, and could no longer talk. Then tenderly the King spake to the girl: "Ah, well, my darling love, confide in me The secret thy dear heart conceals. Fear naught; The Queen is good and wise, and knoweth how To win all hearts. Why should she render thee Unhappy? Speak not thus, my pretty one; The Queen could never do an evil deed. When thou art near her, thou shalt see, my dear, Whether she loves or hates thee." At these words Young Bidasari knew the King esteemed The Queen, and felt her heart sink in her breast. "My words are true," she said, "but still perchance My prince cannot believe. But was I not Within thy palace six or seven nights? The sweat of pain became my couch, so great Was my desire to see my parents dear. They sent me dainties, but all the _dyangs_ Were kept as prisoners by the princess there. She said she'd take me back herself. One day I was, indeed, sent home, but scarce alive." She told him everything that came to pass. He listened stupefied, and said: "How could It be that thou wert in the palace hid, And I not see thee there? Why was it thou Wert not beside the Queen? I've never left The palace for a single day. Where wert Thou hid? Thy strange words I believe, my dear. Speak without fear and let me know the whole." Urged by the King, young Bidasari told Him all. And when the conduct of the Queen He learned, the King was wonder-struck. A rage Most terrible possessed him. But his love For Bidasari mounted higher still And his compassion. "So the Queen thus wrought! I never thought hypocrisy could be So great! I never in the princess saw Such bent for evil. But be not, my dear, Disconsolate. It is a lucky thing Thou didst not quite succumb. No longer speak Of that bad woman's ways. Thank God we've met! So weep no more, my love. I'll give to thee A throne more beautiful than hers, and be Thy dear companion until death." "O King," She said: "I have no beauty fit to grace A throne. Oh, let me stay a simple maid, And think of me no more." The King replied: "I will not give thee up. But I must still Return, and meditate how I may win Thee back to life complete." With kisses warm He covered her fair face. She bowed her head, And silence kept; and when the morning dawned She swooned anew. It was a proof to him That she had told the truth. A mortal hate Then filled the prince's heart against the Queen. Touched with deep pity for the maiden young, He kissed her once again, and left her there, So white and still, as if she lay in death. What of the _mantris_? They awaited long The King, in silence. Then the oldest said: "O sovereign lord, O caliph great, wilt thou Not now return?" "I'll come again, dear heart," He said, and sought the city. Straight he went Into the palace, to the Queen, who asked: "What bringest thou from hunting?" He replied In murmurs: "I have taken naught at all. For my own pleasure I remained all night." "'Tis nothing, lord, provided no harm came To thee. But say what thou didst seek, to stay So long? I always have prepared for thee The food for thy great hunts, but never yet Have I received a recompense?" The King To this replied with smiles: "Prepare afresh, For I to-morrow shall depart again. If I take nothing, I'll return at once." As he caressed the Queen, upon her breast He felt the little magic fish of gold All safe. Then gave he quick commands to all. "I'll hunt to-morrow, and shall surely bring Some wondrous game." Now when the princess fell Asleep he found upon her heart no more The little fish. "'Tis as the maiden said," He thought. "The princess hath a wicked soul. With such a heart I cannot go with her Through life." Through all the night he could not sleep, But thought upon the girl. He was as sad As though he heard a touching song. At dawn The royal couple rose and went to bathe. The King into the palace came again And sat upon the throne adorned with gems. He donned the royal robe to wear before The dear young girl. A vestment 'twas of silk, All gold embroidered, with a tunic bright, Of orange hue. His mien was most superb, As doth become a mighty king. He bore A quiver of Ceylon, most deftly wrought. When all the _mantris_ had assembled there, The King within the palace once more went And met the Queen. Caressing her he took The little fish that lay upon her breast. The princess wept, and at the door she cried: "Why takest thou my little ornament?" The great King gave no heed, and went away, At dawn's glad hour, when birds begin to sing. Swords gleamed and lances shone, and through the wood They hastened on, with quivers and blow-guns, And seemed a walking city. Now again To Bidasari let us turn. When dawn Appeared, she rose and sat in loneliness, Her face grew still more beautiful. Her state Astonished her. "Perhaps it is the King Who hath this wonder wrought. How happy I To be no longer dead!" She washed her face And felt still sad, but with her pensiveness A certain joy was mingled, for her pain Was passed. Her grief the "talking bird" allayed With songs about the mighty King and love. SONG There's _siri_ in a golden vase, Good Dang Melini plants a rose; The King admires a pretty face, To-day he'll come to this fair close. Good Dang Melini plants a rose, Here in the garden they will meet; To-day he'll come to this fair close, To man and maiden love is sweet. Here in the garden they will meet, Go seek the fairest fruit and flower; To man and maiden love is sweet, The King is coming to the bower. Lo! At this very instant they approached. Dear Bidasari hid behind the couch. The King searched everywhere, and found at last The maiden hiding, bathed in bitter tears. Then kissing her, the King inquired: "My love, Bright glory of my crown; pray tell to me Why thou art sad." He dried her tears. But she Still hung her head in silence. Then the King For elephants and horses to be sent Gave orders. "Go with _mantris_ two at once, And bring the merchant and his wife, and bid Forty _dyangs_ to hasten here forthwith." Then went the _mantris_ forth in haste, and found The merchant and his wife and said, "The King Inviteth ye to come." Then through the wood The parents hurried to the plaisance fair Of Bidasari, there to meet the King. Before his Majesty they bowed with fear. The great King smiled. "Be not afraid," he said, "My uncle and my mother. Let us go Within, to see thy lovely child. I make Ye now my parents. We have friendly been, And still shall be." Beside the King they saw Fair Bidasari seated, as with steps Still hesitating they the palace sought. The father fond was glad within his heart, His daughter was so beautiful. She seemed A princess lovely of the Mount Lidang. "Dear Bidasari, sweetest child," they said, "Behind the King, dear daughter, thou should stand." She made as if to go, but still the King Restrained her, "No, my pretty one," he said; "Thy place is at my side. So God hath willed." The oldest _mantri_, called for counsel, spoke: "Lila Djouhara good, what sayest thou? Art thou not glad to see thy daughter made A queen? What happiness hath come to thee!" The merchant bowed before the King, and said: "Make her thy servant, not thy wife, my lord. Thy glorious Queen we fear. She e'er hath shown For Bidasari hatred dire, because A child so lovely might attract the King." The monarch hearing him thus speak, still more Toward him was borne. "My uncle," then he cried, "Have no more fear. But never shall I make A servant of thy daughter." Then he gave Command to build a castle in the wood. And all the workers came, and built it there, With ramparts three. As if by magic then A golden palace rose. The outer gate Was iron, loaded down with arms, and held By demons and by Ethiopians. These were the keepers of the gates, with steeds Untamed. With swords unsheathed they stood alert And waited for the King's commands. Of brass All chiselled was the second gate, supplied With cannons and with powder, guarded safe By beings supernatural. The third Was silver, such as may be seen in far Eirak. The beauty of the castle was Beyond compare! From far it seemed to be As double, like an elephant with two White ivory tusks. Where may its like be found? Three diamonds pure reflected all the light, Big as a melon. Now the castle built, The King a plaisance beautiful desired With gay pavilions, and all kinds of plants. The middle booth nine spacious rooms displayed, One for the royal audiences, adorned And pleasant as a bed of flowers. The King A festival maintained for forty days, With games and sports and dances to divert. And never was such animation seen! All ate and drank to sound of music sweet. They passed the loving-cup and drank to each In turn. For forty days resounded there The gongs and _gendarangs_, and joyous tones Of gay _serouni_ and _nefiri_ glad. "How beautiful is Bidasari!" all Exclaimed; "a thousand times more lovely than The Queen. Thrice happy are the merchant now And his good wife; by marriage they're allied To our great King, though strangers to the land. We count it strange that Bidasari's face In naught is like the merchant nor his wife. Who knoweth but that she, in mortal shape, An angel fair may be? Full many slaves The merchant hath, but never children own." "He found her when a babe, upon the shore," Another said, "and brought her up." The King Heard all their words. He thought: "It is the truth And this I take as proof of her high birth. She certainly is noble or come down From heaven." When four days had fled, the wives Of _mantris_ dressed the beauteous girl. They clad Her form in satins soft of Egypt, shot With gold, adorned with precious stones inset And many gems. Her beauty was enhanced The more, till she a radiant angel seemed. She wore a tunic, crimson and pomegranate, With buttons shaped like butterflies. She was Adorned with _padaka_ of five quaint clasps, And belt called _naga souma_. Ear-rings rich She had, of diamonds set in gold, and wrought Most wondrously, as bright as daylight's gleam; A ring most marvellous and rare she wore Called _astakouna_, and another named _Gland kana_, and a third from far Ceylon, Studded with precious stones. Her eyes were like The stars of orient skies. Her teeth were black, Her face like water shone. Her chiselled nose Was prominent and Mike a flower fresh culled. When she was dressed, upon a couch of pearls Her mother put her. Supple was her form, And white, as she reclined, by many maids Surrounded. In his royal garb the prince Was clad, and dazzling to the eyes of all Who saw. He wore a kingly crown which shone With diamonds bright and lucent amethysts And many stones, and all majestic seemed. Then rice was brought. The King with pleasure ate And what was left he gave the _mantris'_ wives. When all had finished he perfumed himself And gazed upon his lovely wife. Her face And form were charming. Her soft tresses curled In grace. Her eyes still kept the trace of tears, Which made her lovelier. The silken folds Of soft Egyptian curtains fell. They were alone. "Awake, my darling," said the prince at dawn, "Crown of my life, awake, my pretty one." Then Bidasari waked and said, with tears: "My friend, I had all sorts of wondrous dreams. I saw a palm-tree tall with tufted limbs, And fruits all ripe." When three days more had fled And all the people saw and loud acclaimed, Then Bidasari took the rank of Queen. The King o'erloaded her with gifts and loved Her tenderly. "Oh, let us live and die Together, dear, and, as the days go by, Think more of one another, and our love Preserve, as in the hollow of the hand Oil is upheld, nor falls a single drop." So spake the King. The merchant and his wife Were soon established in the neighborhood, Near to Queen Bidasari's palace grand. A hundred servants had they to fulfil Their orders. They sent gifts to all their friends, And food to last a month. A certain day It chanced that Bidasari said: "O King, Why goest thou no more within the gates Of that thine other palace? Of a truth Queen Lila Sari will be vexed, because Thou hast abandoned her so long a time. She'll think that I have kept thee from her side Unwilling thou shouldst go." So, with all sorts Of words, fair Bidasari strove to urge The King to visit Lila Sari. "I Will go to-morrow," finally he said. He went, when morning came, and met the Queen. She turned him back, and with sharp, bitter words Reproached him. "Wretched one, I will not see Thy face. I love thee not. I hate thee. Go! Lila Djouhara's son-in-law, thou'rt not To me an equal. Thy new wife's an ape, Who liveth in the woods." But when the King Heard these vociferations of the Queen, He said: "Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, Oh, be not vexed, my dear. It was not I Who wrong began, but thou didst cause it all. For thou didst hide thy deed from me, and drive Me on to this extremity. Oh, why Art thou now angry with me? If thou wilt But love her, and attach thy heart to hers, She'll pardon thee, and take thee as a friend." As more and more enraged the Queen became, Her wrath with strong reproaches overflowed. "Depart from here, accursed of God! Thou art No longer husband mine. Go live with her Whom God hath struck, but whom thou dost delight To honor. Formerly of noble blood Thou wert, but now no more than broken straw. Thou needst not further try to flatter me. Though thou shouldst purify thyself seven times, false one, I'd not permit thee to approach my side." The King grew angry and replied: "Tis thou Who art despicable. Thy cunning tricks Are worthless now. Thy jealousy insane Was without cause, and common were thy acts. Thy wit is much below thy beauty. Will follow thee, should I protection cease." "Have I forgot my noble birth?" she asked. "But thou hast erred, to lower thine high estate To people of such base extraction. Here And everywhere thy shame is known, that thou Art wedded to a gadabout. Is it For princes thus to wed a merchant's child? She ought far in the woods to dwell, and know Most evil destiny." The King but smiled And said: "If this event is noised abroad, 'Tis thou who wilt receive an evil name. For who in all the land would dare prevent The King from marrying? I ought to take From thee all I have given. But before The people I've no wish to humble thee. Is it because I met thy every wish That thou art grown so bad? Most evil hath Thy conduct been, and I with thee am wroth," And in hot anger rushed the King away, And straight repaired to Bidasari's side. SONG IV This song will tell again about the prince Of Kembajat, most powerful. He was chased By fell _garouda_, horrid bird of prey, And sought another land. His way he took Toward Indrapura. At the break of dawn A daughter fair was born, a princess true, Within a boat that lay upon a shore. The Queen and he abandoned her, and went Back to the royal palace and for days Bemoaned her fate. Of her they nothing heard. "Alas my child!" the father cried, "my dear, In whose care art thou now? We do not know If thou art dead or living. Thus thy sire Hath no repose. Light of mine eyes, my love, My purest gold, our hearts are torn with grief. An evil fate was ours to hide thee there. We do repent the deed. To think that thou Perchance hath fallen among the poorest folk! A slave perhaps thou art!" The prince's son Remarked the sorrow of his parents dear, And was profoundly moved. "Have I," he asked, "A sister? Tell me why have ye concealed Her far away? Did ye not care for her? Was she a burden that ye must forsake Her thus? Doth shame not fill your parents' hearts?" But when he heard the tale in full, he said: "O father, let me go to seek for her, My sister dear. If I succeed I'll bring Her back to thee." "Oh, leave us not, my son," The father said. "Thou art our only heir. Like a tamed bird upon our shoulders fain We've carried thee, and watched thee, day and night. Why shouldst thou leave us now? Oh, go not forth. Vex not thyself about thy sister dear. From travellers we shall get news of her, And her abode discover." Then the prince Bowed low and said: "My father, lord, and King, I am but strengthened in my wish to go And find my sister. Let me now depart, And seek for news of her." The King replied: "Well, go, my dearest son; thy heart is good. Though but a child thou still dost bear a brain." Then summoned the young prince the merchants all, And bought much goods and questioned them in turn About all neighboring villages and camps. They told whate'er they knew most willingly, For much the young prince was beloved by them. Among them was a youth of handsome face, Fair Bidasari's foster-brother tall. Amid the strangers sat he near the throne; His name was Sinapati. He was brave And wise. Now as he watched the prince he thought, "How strangely like dear Bidasari's face Is his, as when a reed is split in twain There is no difference between the halves." His home he left when Bidasari fair Became the Queen. He thought of her and wept. The prince observed him there, and said, with smiles: "Young man, my friend, from what far town art thou? Why dost thou weep so bitterly? What thoughts Arise in thee and make thy visage dark?" Young Sinapati bowed and said: "My lord, I came from Indrapura, in a ship, My wares to sell. For that I do not weep. But sorrow cometh to my heart whene'er I think upon my home, and brothers dear, And sisters." At these words the prince rejoiced. He thought, "From him some news I'll surely learn." Sherbets and dainties then to all the folk He offered, and the cup went 'round from dawn Till noon, and then the merchants went away; But the young prince kept Sinapati there. Now he already strong affection felt For him and said: "My friend, toward thee I'm moved And look upon thee as a brother dear. Thou dost at Indrapura live, but who May be thy patron there?" Then with a smile Young Sinapati said: "My patron's called Lila Djouhara, merchant great. He owns Some six or seven swift ships, and toileth more Than ever since he Bidasari took As child." In two days' time the young prince went With Sinapati to his father's house. "I bring thee news," he said, "but nothing yet Is sure. Behold from Indrapura far A youth, from whom I've things of import great. A merchant of Pesara, very rich, My sister must have found. All well agrees With what to me thou saidst. Now must we seek For confirmation of the glad report." To Sinapati gold and gems they gave. Then spake the King: "If this be so I'll send An envoy bearing richest gifts, and thanks Within a letter writ." The youthful prince Bowed low and said: "Oh, send me on this quest! Lila Djouhara I would like to see. Perhaps he's virtuous and just. If I Am made full sure it is my sister dear, I'll send a messenger. And if it be I'll bring her back." The King was moved To hear his son thus speak. "O dearest child," He said: "I'm very loath to let thee go. But thou must many horsemen take with thee, Lest thou shouldst long be absent." "Why should I Be long away?" the prince replied, with bows; "For if Lila Djouhara will not let Her come, I shall forthwith return to thee." The King could now no more object. He gave Commands to make an expedition great. With richest gifts, and food, and princely things, And sent him forth with blessings on his head. "Stay not too long; thou art my only hope," The King exclaimed; "I'm getting old, my son, And thou my heir upon the throne must be." They started early on the fourteenth day Of that same month. And Sinapati rode Beside the Prince. Some went on foot and some On horses. When they far had gone, the prince Said to the youth: "Now listen, friend. When we Arrive thou must not name my family And rank. I'm someone from another town. It doth not please me to declare my rank To strangers. Should the girl my sister prove, Thou mayst tell all, for I shall soon return." Thus speaking, the young prince his way maintained, And soon arrived near to the city sought. He Sinapati left, and went within The gates, with four companions, true as steel, And six attendants. They at once repaired To the _campong_ of good Lila Djouhara. They found it closed, with a forsaken look. "There's no one here. The King hath taken all Away, both old and young," said the _mandar_. Then Sinapati beat his breast and said: "What hath become of my dear patron, then?" "Be not disturbed. No harm hath come to him. The merchant with the King hath gone, because The King hath married Bidasari fair, And made of her a queen, and built a fine New palace in the country wild. There all Is joy and happiness." Beyond all count Was Sinapati glad to hear these words. Then to the prince he said: "My gracious lord, Lila Djouhara's near at hand. He is In highest favor with the King, and bears A title new." They hurried forth to find His residence. "It is the left _campong_," Remarked a country-man. "Thy lord is grand And powerful now, and master of us here. The King hath now become his son-in-law." Then Sinapati went within the gates And saw his mother there. Her heart was touched. She kissed him and inquired, "Whom hast thou brought?" "It is a friend," he answered. "Come, my lord," She to the young prince said, "enter and rest." "He's so like Bidasari," to herself She said. "What is thy name, my brave young man, Thou seemest nobly born. In very truth Thou'rt handsome and well mannered." Then the prince Said: "Poutra Bangsawan I'm called. Thy son I've followed here." But Sinapati paid Him homage, and they knew him for a prince. Before his door young Sinapati slept At night to guard him safe. Next day there came An invitation from Lila Mengindra (Before, Djouhara). So they started forth. Lila Mengindra was astonished quite To see the prince's face so beautiful. "Who is this most distinguished stranger here?" He asked himself. "My master, speak a word To Poutra Bangsawan, a friend of mine," Said Sinapati. So the old man turned And spoke unto the prince, "Come here, my son, And sit thee near thy father." He felt drawn To him, he looked so much like Bidasari. The young prince smiled and on the dais sat. "What is thy visit's purpose?" then inquired The good old man. The prince with bows polite Replied: "I'm but a humble stranger, come To find my sister. I bespeak thine aid." "Be not afraid, my son, but trust in me, Nor fear to give thy sister's name. If thou Wilt have it so I'll take thee for a son; I love thee for thou hast a face so like My daughter's." Then the brave young prince began And told his sister's story, how she was In time of stress abandoned on the shore. "And if I only knew," he said, "where now She is, I'd be her master's willing slave." Now when Lila Mengindra heard his tale His joy was quite unspeakable. His love For Bidasari's brother greater grew. With smiles he asked: "Now, Poutra Bangsawan, Say of what family thou art, that I May aid thee in thy quest, and help thee find Thy sister." Then the young prince bowed his head And pondered, "Shall I lie?" For he knew not If 'twere his sister. Lila saw his mood And said: "Be not disturbed. It is most sure That thy dear sister's here. So speak the truth, That my old heart may be surcharged with joy. Thy sister's seated on a throne, and like A brilliant jewel is her family. Be no more sorry. As for me, my heart Is full of joy." The prince looked in his face And said: "Can I confide in him? I am A stranger here and fear to be deceived." Said Sinapati: "Speak not thus, I pray, For everybody knows this man can tell Ten-carat gold from dross. Now list, my lord. Although he bids me silent be, a prince He is, son of a powerful king, and comes To seek his sister." Then within his heart The former merchant much rejoiced, as if He'd found a mountain of pure gems. He paid His homage to the prince in proper form, And took him into his abode, to meet His wife and all within. The spouses two To him exclaimed: "Dear prince, in our old age We're very happy. When thy sister sweet We found, o'erjoyed were we. And now the King Hath married her, and raised her to the throne. He hath our family to noble rank Upraised, and covered us with benefits." Then smiling said the prince: "I learn with joy My sister sweet is here. When may I go Before the King and see her? For I've come To take her home. And yet I fear the King Will never let her go away from him. When I have seen her I'll return again." In three days' time the King gave audience. The former merchant with him took the prince, Who sent the richest presents on before. The princeling was most gorgeously attired And bore himself with haughty dignity. His robe was rich, his tunic violet And fire. His many-colored turban bore Bright agates. At his girdle hung his kriss. He was entirely clad as prince should be, And bracelets wore with little bells and rings. His leggings were embroidered with bright flowers Called _pouspa angatan_. He seemed divine-- His beauty was extraordinary. Pearls In numbers countless covered all his garb; An amulet he had with sacred verse From the Koran, a diamond pure. He rode A steed most richly housed, with _shabraque _decked With gleaming jewels casting rays of light. Twas thus the prince set out to meet the King. Lila Mengindra with him went. The prince Approached the King's pavilion, and at once The King remarked his beauty and his mien Of noble grace. "Who can he be?" he thought. Meanwhile the prince dismounted and appeared Before the King. Full seven times he bowed And said, "O may your happiness increase, Illustrious sovereign!" Then the King with smiles Lila Mengindra questioned, "Who is this Thou hither bringest, of such noble mien And amiable face?" With humble bow The former merchant said: "This slave of thine Has come from lands remote, from Kembajat, Upon the seashore, since thy Majesty He wished to see. His presents few he sent Before him, which he hopes thou wilt accept." The former merchant thought: "I would his rank Divulge. But some might think I lied because The King hath Bidasari wed, and if She knew she was a princess born she might Be very vain and haughty." To the prince The King was very friendly. "Come and sit Here by my side," he said, "for thee I deem A brother." "Let me here remain, my lord, I am a poor unworthy servitor. I hope that thou wilt pardon me. I would I might become a subject of thy crown." The King thought: "This may be some royal heir Who here hath wandered. He resembles much Our Bidasari, Pity 'tis that he Unto another nation doth belong." Then pleasantly he said: "Pray, truly tell What is thine origin? Keep nothing back. What is thy name? The whole truth let me know." The young prince bowed him low and said: "My name Is Poutra Bangsawan, of family Most humble. I am searching everywhere To find a sister lost. When she is found I shall return at once." Then said the King: "Where is thy sister? I will help thy search. Stay here with me a month or two, that we May learn to know each other and become Fast friends." The young prince then obeisance made And said: "I bear thine orders on my head. Thou art a king illustrious, and I A humble servitor. I am the son Of good Lila Mengindra, but for long I've absent been. My sister dear I seek. Thine aid I do bespeak. From Kembajat I come, a subject of thy father there, the King. Forgive me, lord, for now thou knowest all." The King rejoiced to hear a voice that seemed So much like Bidasari's, and inquired Of Sinapati, "Tell me now his race." Then Sinapati bowed and said: "My lord, Of princes and of caliphs is his race. His kingdom, not so far, is most superb; His palace is most beautiful and grand. Swift ships within the harbor lie, all well Equipped." At this the King enchanted was, To find a prince was brother to his wife. Still more he asked and Sinapati said: "Because his realm was ravaged by the foe He hath misfortunes suffered manifold." Then knew the King he was of royal blood And had adversity experienced. The King came from his throne and said, "My friend, My palace enter." So the King and prince Went in. They met fair Bidasari there. She sat beside a Chinese window quaint, All choicely carved. She saw the King and thought, "What fine young man is this he bringeth here?" When they were seated all, the young prince looked At Bidasari: "Beautiful is she," He thought, "my sister dear, and very like My father." Then the King with smiling face Said: "Bidasari, darling, speak to him. He is thy younger brother, come to seek Thee here. From Kembajat he came. And thy Dear father mourns for thee the livelong day." At this fair Bidasari sighed. She bowed Her head and silence kept. She much was moved Because she had not known her parents true, But fancied them Djouhara and his wife. "I'm but a merchant's daughter," finally She said. "Things all uncertain this young prince Hath told. If I'm the daughter of a King, Why hath he left me here, and never sought For me through all these years? 'Tis not so far From here to Kembajat." The young prince bowed. "Thy words I bear upon my head," he said, "O sister dear. Pray banish from thy heart All hatred. If thou'rt lowly born, I am Likewise. Our realm was ravaged at thy birth. But shortly afterward fair peace returned, And to his own my father came again. I've seen how much he suffers in his heart. Thy name he never utters without tears-- He never hath forgotten thee. Forgive Him, then, in what he was remiss. Except For stern necessity he never would Have thee abandoned." Then the King with smiles Said: "Speak to him, my dear. He tells the truth. Thy parents wandered through a desert land Beneath a cruel sun. Impossible It was to carry thee through brier and brush." Down at his sister's feet the young prince knelt. Then Bidasari clasped him in her arms. The brave young prince to them recounted all The sorrows of his parents. Much he wept, And they wept, too, as he the story told. Then sat they down to dine. And afterward They _siri_ took and perfumes of all kinds. Then the young prince took leave. "Where goest thou, My brother?" asked the King. "I fain would go Straight home to my dear parents," said the prince. But, with a voice affectionate, the King Replied: "Seek not Lila Mengindra. Here Thou shouldst remain, for thou hast met within This palace thy dear sister. There is room Enough for thee. Stay here with all thy folk And retinue." The prince bowed low, and forth Unto the merchant went, and to him said: "Within the palace now I shall remain With all my retinue, for thus the King Commands." The merchant said: "'Tis very well For where can one lodge better than within The palace?" So the prince returned, with all His people, to the palace of the King. Then all the _mantris_ came, and festivals And feasts were held. As long as he remained At Indrapura, the young prince received All courtesies. And Bidasari fair Was known as daughter of a mighty king. The news was carried far and wide, and all Repeated how her brother brave had come To seek for her. Queen Lila Sari heard And was surprised. She sighed in solitude, And felt a woe unspeakable. She said To a _mandar_: "I was in too much haste. On the _dyangs_ I counted, but they come No more. All four have gone and homage paid To Bidasari. All my tricks are foiled. In no one can I trust." Dang Lila then Approached and said: "Acts of unfaithfulness Bring never happiness. God's on the side Of loyalty. Now those _dyangs_ are sad And languish after thee, but fear the King, Dost thou not think, O Queen, thou ill hast wrought? For while the King is absent none will come Thy heart to cheer." The Queen replied with ire: "Seek not to consolation give. The King Esteems me not. I'll not humiliate Myself before him. Who is that young prince, So called, who hither came? A pirate's son He well may prove, and calls himself a prince. Go ye, _dyangs_, pay service to the King, And he may favor ye as he did her." She seemed most wroth. But she repented sore In truth, and pined away in sorrow deep. In other days she had no wish nor whim Unsatisfied. Now all were for the King. The Queen's heart angrier grew from day to day As if a scorpion's sting had wounded her. And her distress grew greater when she thought Upon the love of other days. Her heart Was inconsolable because so bitterly She missed the pomp and glory of her court. But Bidasari to the King one day Said: "Send back these _mendars_; for if they all Stay here, Queen Lila Sari all alone Will be." The King with smiles replied: "Oh, no! I will not let them go. She is so fell And barbarous, she no one loves. She is Much better all alone." Then to the King Fair Bidasari said: "Thine anger was Too prompt. She spoke in wrath because she was Accustomed to a court. In what to thee Hath she been wanting, that thou shouldst repel Her thus? Thou gav'st her love, and now thou dost Abandon her in sorrow. Be not thus Incensed with her, for should she come to want The shame would be reflected on thy head." The King's face lighted, and he said: "My dear, I went to see her, but she drove me forth With bitter words. Her conduct was beyond All bearing. And she heaped on me abuse." But Princess Bidasari said: "Dwell not On that, my friend. She was disturbed by wrath And jealousy. In other days thou didst Embrace and kiss her. Now she is alone. And thou perchance didst somehow hurt Or bruise her body." All his anger left The King at this. He said: "O purest soul, Thou speakest well and wisely. How could I Not love thee, dear, and cling to thee for life? Oh, never may we separated be! Branch of my heart, light of my eyes, thou dost But good desire. Thou'rt all the world to me. I'll go to her, since thou doth ask. Perchance A reconciliation may be made. But she must first admit her faults. If she Repentance shows, to see her I will go." The merchant's wife had come and heard these words. Her warm tears fell. She thought within herself, "My daughter hath no vengeance in her heart." Then Dang Bidouri brought delicious rice Unto the King and Queen. They ate and drank, And stronger grew their love from hour to hour. Then gave the King commands to call the prince. He came with smiling face and graceful bows. "Sit here beside us," said the King, and all The three dined there together, royal ones, Surrounded by deft servants and _dyangs_. They chatted gayly, and, with laughter, ate. When all was finished, from the betel-box The King of _siri_ took, perfumed himself, And then the prince retired. When two short months Had fled, the prince bethought him of his home And parents. To himself he said, "I'll go." He gave commands to preparation make For his departure. "I am loath to leave My sister," he to Sinapati said. "My life is joyous here. But there at home I've left my parents in solicitude." Then Sinapati bowed and said, "With thee I'll go." SONG V A certain day the _mantris_ came Before the King, in the pavilion grand. And with them came the youthful prince, and cast Himself before the throne. The King with smiles Said: "Sit thou at my side, my brother dear, I have not seen thee for a day entire." The princeling bowed and said: "My gracious lord If thou wilt pardon me, I would return And give my parents dear the joyful news. My father bade me seek my sister lost, And still he nothing knows of her good fate." The King replied with sorrow: "Brother mine, Why wilt thou go so soon? We scarcely are Acquainted, and I have not had enough Of thy dear company." The prince replied: "Oh, be not sorrowful, my gracious lord. As soon as I have my dear father seen I'll tell him what good things have come to pass. 'Twill soothe his heart to hear my sister's joy. My parents will be glad in learning all Thy goodness great. And pray consider me Thy subject leal. Soon I'll return again." The King's emotion grew. With pleasant voice He said: "Take counsel of thy sister. Heed What she may say." They found the Queen within, Fair Bidasari, and attending her Dyang Agous Djouhari. All sat down And took some _siri_ from the betel-box. The Queen to the young prince then spoke: "Come here. My brother, why have I thy face not seen For two long days?" With bows the prince replied: "I've had a multitude of things to do. Thus came I not; for my companions all Seek homeward to return. So I must take My leave of thee upon the morrow morn, When pales the silver moon before the dawn." The Queen was grieved to hear these words, and shed A flood of tears. Her tender heart was touched. Beside herself with sorrow she exclaimed: "O prince illustrious! How canst thou go, Since we have met? I've loved thee from the time I knew thou wert my brother. I am grieved To hear thee say thou wilt so soon depart. Of low extraction must I be! 'Twas wrong For thee to call thyself my brother. I A poor and feeble orphan am, and how Should I the love deserve of a great prince?" When this he heard the prince bowed low his head And was much troubled. "Sister sweet," he said, "Grieve not like this. I only do return Because our parents must so anxious be. I love thee so, my darling, that my heart Is nearly breaking. If thou speakest thus To me, my dear, my grief will still increase. I could not leave thee, but I must respect Our parents' wishes. They commanded me All haste to make. So--sweet--I pray thee have Compassion on me." Much disturbed, the King Observed the sorrow of the princess fair. He kissed her lips, to her a _sepah_ gave, And said with tender voice: "My darling wife, What dost thou wish? Let now thy brother go. We'll see thy parents here ere many days." The Queen wept bitterly, and said to him: "His wishes I do not oppose. Let him Do whatsoe'er it pleaseth him to do. For I am but a stranger, a lost child, And who should think of me or love me true?" Then bowed the prince and said: "In very truth, I know thou art my sister. Speak not thus. God knows how much I love thee, sister mine. If thou dost not permit me to depart I'll not resist. I'm happy here with thee, But our dear parents are in cruel doubt, And look for news of thee. Now that I know Thy husband is a king, our parents dear Would be so overjoyed to learn it too!" Then spoke the King with face all radiant, "Return not, brother mine," he said. "I'll send Swift messengers to bear the gladsome news That Bidasari's found. Then, if he wills, Thy royal father here we'll hope to see. I'll go myself to meet him when he comes." The young prince bowed and said: "Nay, rather send Thy messengers, a great king cannot go So far away." Queen Bidasari heard These words and much rejoiced, and gayly gave Her brother then her betel-box. The King Caressed his wife and said, "My dearest soul, Love not thy brother more than me." He called Lila Mengindra. Soon the merchant came Before the King and prince. The King exclaimed: "Come here, my uncle. Tell me, wilt thou take A letter to the King of Kembajat-- To prove to him we live?" So spake the King And called his counsellor of state, who came And kissed his hands. The King then bade him write A letter, all in characters of gold. "Well," cried the King, "let's hear the letter now," "Now glory be to God," it thus began, And all fair Bidasari's history Recited. Then the King a mighty host Assembled and with elephants and steeds Ten _mantris_ took the letter of the prince Unto his parents. With the cavalcade There went a _laksimana_ great, who bore, As king's ambassador, bejewelled flags And standards rich, and presents of much worth. Then Sinapati by the King was called A _laksimana mantri_, and received A fine equipment, with a hundred men To follow him. 'Twas thus the King preserved His reputation as a mighty king. When he had sent the embassy, the King Went to his wife, and they were very gay. His love for her grew greater every day. The former merchant also was beloved. He gave the King good counsel, and obeyed His orders willingly. He often dined Together with the King and Queen. His wealth Grew vast. No one at all could with him vie, In Indrapura. He was much attached To the chief _mantri_. They were equals both In prudence, wisdom, and fidelity, With power unquestioned over all the folk. Beneath their sway prosperity increased, And many merchants came from far and wide. The kingdom was at peace. The King rejoiced, And everyone was happy in the land. SONG VI The _laksimana mantri_ now I'll sing, Who went upon the embassy. As soon As the great King of Kembajat had news Of his arrival, he was much rejoiced. He told the Queen, and in the audience-hall Awaited. Then went forth the officers With elephants and _payongs_. A countless throng Attended them, with music and with flags. They met the embassy, and, with rich gifts, They gave the King's commands. Into the town Then entered all. The King was very glad, As if his only daughter had returned. All bowed before the King, who took the gifts, While servants took the letter to the chief Of _mantris_. And he gave it to the King, The monarch read, and was possessed with joy. He could not thank enough the merchant good, Who raised his daughter to a royal throne. He wished forthwith to go and see his child. The letter cordial invitation gave. But one thing troubled him: "He straight inquired, 'Hath not the prince, my son, the liberty To come back home?'" The _laksimana_ bowed And said: "The King wished not to let him come And begged with tears that he would stay. The Queen Feared if her brother went she'd never see Her father. From your children both I bring Warm greetings. Kind indulgence from your heart They ask, and press their invitation. I Crave pardon for myself, O King, and hope Thy children dear may see their father's face, And that the kingdoms may become one realm." At these words smiled the King. "Ah, well!" he said, "I'll wait for seven days still." Then questions flew, And the great king learned all about his child. The Indrapura _mantris_ went apart When evening came. A separate palace grand The King assigned them, with the best of food. He orders gave for preparations great. Unto the Queen he said: "In seven days' time, My dear, I look to start, for I shall have No peace until I've seen our darling child." Then he assembled there his _mantris_ all, Both young and old, with elephants and steeds. And all was ready to set forth, as he had wished. The while the morning stars were twinkling still, The royal gong resounded many times. The guards leaped forth with joy. The officers Came out and took their shining helms of war. Their naked swords all glistened. It was thus They made the glittering royal cavalcade. Their flags and banners flaunted in the air, All those who stayed behind were sad, as if A knife had cut them. All together marched, The lancers and the horsemen, and they seemed A moving city. Soon all darkened was The moon, as someone sorrowful. The swords And lances glistened like an island in The middle of the sea. Thus is described The royal escort marching through the land. The King was mounted on an elephant, His _siri_-bearer seated close behind. A rich _payong_ of royalty, all tricked With bells, was stretched above his head, And drums and other instruments without Cessation sounded. Thus went forth the King, And soon to Indrapura came. When near He halted and forthwith an envoy sent His coming to announce, together with The _laksimana mantri_. "Mighty King," They said, "thy royal father hath arrived." The King his heralds ordered then to call Lila Mengindra. With a smile he said To him: "Assemble in the square the folk And army. Straight to my pavilion let Them come, and all in holiday attire, For I my father am to meet to-day." Lila Mengindra bowed and hied him forth To execute the orders of the King. The King within his palace went, and sat Upon a jewelled seat. The Queen was there, And good Lila Mengindra at her side. The King said smilingly: "Light of my eyes, Let all the palace decorated be. Assemble all the palace folk and all The younger girls. For now without the gates Our parents wait. To-morrow I shall go To meet them." Then Queen Bidasari cried, With smiles: "My brother they have come to see. I cannot go before them and declare Myself their daughter." But the young prince said: "Oh, speak not thus, my sister, but give heed To what I say to thee, and be not wroth. If I'm the only one they love, alone I'll go with them away." Then to the King He said: "With my dear sister I but jest, To quiet her alarms." He bowed before the King And asked permission forth to go at once To meet his father. "Nay," replied the King, "We'll go together." A repast was served With every kind of food. The royal three Together ate. Then from the betel-box They _siri_ took, and perfumes sweet they used. The prince then from the palace forth did go. Next day the King invited him to start With him upon the royal progress. All The banners waved, and everyone was glad. Then to the Queen he said: "Stay here, my love, And I will hither bring thy father dear." These words rejoiced the Queen. She said: "Go forth, My dear, and I will follow with my eyes." The King then took his leave with the young prince, With many _mantris_ following. The strains Of gladsome music sounded. All the bells Were rung, and those without the cavalcade Were sad. Ere long they came to the frontier, And King met King. The folk of Kembajat Were all astonished at the young King's face, As beautiful as painter's masterpiece. The old King looked with smiles on all. His joy Was great. The King of Indrapura bowed Respectfully, and made them bring to him The elephant that bore 'neath gay _payong_ His consort's father. "Son, where goest thou?" "I've come to seek thee." Then the old King said: "Why didst thou come in person? 'Twould have been Enough if thou hadst _mantris_ sent instead." His joy o'erflowed his heart. His son-in-law He greatly loved. Upon his elephant He said: "Approach, my son, thou art a king Renowned. Thy body and thy soul are both Alike, and both of royal stock!" He pressed Him in his arms and said: "Light of my eyes, Almighty God hath heard my many prayers, And granted me a perfect son-in-law." The King of Indrapura bowed and smiled Most graciously. Then to the young prince said His father: "Mount, my son, beside me, here." The young prince mounted at his father's side. He was as beautiful as chiselled gold. Within the town the kings made entry then Amid a joyous throng. When they had come, The former merchant bowed before them both, The _mangkouboumi_ now. The mighty King Of Indrapura bowed and said: "My sire, Speak to my uncle here; for he brought up Thy daughter." Scarcely had the old King heard These words than he exclaimed with joy: "Come here, My brother, let us now acquaintance make." The old King, seated on his elephant, Shed all about him rays of happiness, And all the people there were greatly moved. "This is my brother well beloved," he said, And kissed his brow. "How great hath been his love, His faithfulness has proved beyond compare." The former merchant bowed, and to the King Replied: "I am thy slave, O King, and bear Thine orders on my head. Thou dost o'erwhelm Thy servant with thy favor." Then upon The royal throne, which was all gem-bedecked, The old King sat, the young prince at his side, With all the _mantris_ near. Then came the Queen Consort. The prince and Bidasari fair Came from their seats, their mother to receive. All entered then the palace. The young Queen, Fair Bidasari, bowed and was embraced By both her parents. With a flood of tears Her father said: "Alas, my darling child, Fruit of my heart, light of my eyes, keep not A hatred in thy soul against us now. The will of God is now made manifest. We long have separated been. At last We see each other with our very eyes. Great wrong we did thus to abandon thee, But still let not thy heart a stranger be To us. Peace later came to our dear land-- Such was our destiny. What could we do? We were in flight. We thought, 'May God decree Some honorable man shall find her here!' How can we now be glad enough 'twas thus Ordained! What recompense can we present?" Sweet Bidasari wept as she recalled The past. The King her husband was much moved, And felt great pity when her tears he saw. And all were sad with sorrow mixed with joy, Because they knew she was of royal birth. Food now was served, and quickly the _dyangs_ Brought salvers for the princes. The two kings Ate of the rice till they were surfeited, Then to their children offered it. All took The _siri_ placed before them, and straightway Themselves anointed with rare perfumes sweet. When all had eaten, the five royal ones Lila Mengindra called, and gave to him The remnants of the feast. The kings then spoke To him and to his wife. They both bowed low And kissed the royal hands. Then said the King Of Kembajat: "My children, I had planned-- In case we ever met on earth and ere The prey of death became--a feast to give, To last a month, and to it ye invite. In triumph I my daughter fain would bear, With all of ye. I would at once repair Unto the isle of Nousa Antara, And there I'd hold a royal festival With all the members of our family, And all the _bitis_, _mandars_, and _dyangs_. Such was my plan--if ever I should find My daughter dear. Now while this moon doth last Let me the project see fulfilled before Your parents come to die." The gracious King Of Indrapura at these words bowed low And said: "I bear thy words upon my head. It shall be done as thou hast wished, my King." And when the evening came all was prepared. Soft mattresses were spread, and the two queens Betook them to their chambers, and the rich Egyptian curtains fell. They vainly sought to sleep. They talked together of their sorrows past And evil days. And neither kings nor queens That night could slumber. At the break of day The talking bird began to sing and prate. A little later the _bajangs_ began Their song. Then all arose, and bathed, and broke Their fast, and chattered and amused themselves. The King of Indrapura then gave word Unto the _mangkouboumi_: "All prepare That's necessary, ere the moon be full. Get ready all the various kinds of ships, And load them down with every sort of arms. Prepare all sorts of games to pass the time, And get in order all the cannons great And fire-arms. Thus the King commands." Straightway The _mangkouboumi_ bowed before the King, And went his orders to obey. He made The ships all ready, with new paint and gold. When three were well equipped, on board he took The people of the city. All the old Were left behind, but of the young none stayed. Then to the King the _mangkouboumi_ said, "All is prepared." At this the King rejoiced, And to the King of Kembajat sent word, Who told his wife, and she was all aglow. They started from the palace, kings and queen And prince, and lovely Bidasari, too, Attended by the courtiers all. The strains Of music sounded and the bells were rung. All those whose lot it was to stay at home Were pained, as if a knife had stricken them. The cannons roared; the royal banners waved. In three days' sail they reached the island fair, Of Nousa Antara, and the ships made fast. The two queens sat and watched the deft _dyangs_ Take up the coral white and pink, and toyed With pretty shells. The King set foot upon The isle of Nousa Antara. The King And his dear wife upon the shore came forth, With their sweet daughter Bidasari pure. The King of Indrapura with them went, The prince walked near them on the left. The King Of Indrapura ordered that a tent Be raised, and one was made. It was as large As any palace, set with royal throne. The two queens entered it and sought repose. The prince before his father bowed and said, "My royal father, let me go and hunt." To this the King of Kembajat replied, "Do what thou dost desire, light of my eyes." The King of Indrapura said with smiles, "I'll go with thee to hunt, my brother dear." The prince replied, "I shall in truth be charmed, My brother." "Forth we'll fare to-morrow morn," Returned the King of Indrapura. "Call The folk together." When the dawn appeared, The King and prince together started forth, Escorted by a band of hunters tried, And beat the woods for game. The King and prince And all their following made rapid work. The game took flight. The King then drew his bow And many animals were killed. A deer Came running by. His arrow struck him full Upon the shoulder, and the huntsmen seized And quickly killed him. In the pathless woods Of Nousa Antara there was much game. A tiger roared, the King and prince pursued. The tiger swiftly fled. The prince sat down Within the forest deep. To overtake The beast he was unable. To return He sought, but could not find the way. Alone He was, and in perplexity, because His huntsmen he no longer could descry. Then, wandering to and fro, he found at last A pleasure garden of the days gone by, Belonging to King Lila, beautiful And without flaw. He was astonished quite When he perceived a palace. All alone He found himself, when he had entered there. He walked about, but found no living soul. Unto himself he said: "Can this domain A habitation be of demons dread And spirits? Can this be the cause of all The solitude which reigns?" On all sides then He looked. All suddenly a voice he heard, But still no one could see. Amazed he stood. The mystic voice exclaimed, "Have pity, lord, And free me from this room." As in a dream The prince these accents heard. He answered then: "Who art thou? Whose strange voice is this I hear, The while I no one see? Dost thou belong Unto the race of demons and of spectres? Where is the key, that I may ope the door?" Then the _dyang_ of Mendoudari said Unto the prince: "Look toward the left, for there The key thou'lt find that opes the palace tower." He took the key and opened wide the door. All those who were within, when they beheld The prince's face, fell prostrate at his feet. To them the prince cried out: "Say to what race Ye do belong. This quickly tell. And whose This palace beautiful?" Then answered him Dang Tjindra Melini: "O Royal prince, We are God's creatures, like to thee. And this Fair palace of the King Lila is now By Ifrid occupied, a spirit-king, With whom now lives the prince illustrious, Lila. His daughter, Princess Mendoudari, Is shut alone within a chamber here, And Ifrid, king of spirits, cometh oft. On every third day cometh he. His eyes Are brilliant as the sun." When this he heard The prince was glad. The room he entered then. The Princess Mendoudari sought to flee. "Where wouldst thou go, my friend," he said. "I've sought And found thee. Do not flee away from me." The Princess Mendoudari said with tears: "And art thou mad enough hither to come? The spirits will destroy thee without doubt." These words rejoiced the prince, and to her then He sang a low sweet song of love and wooing. The princess answered with a dreamy chant. And when the young prince heard her gentle lay He felt a yearning pity for her fate. "Be not afraid, my dear," he said, "for I Will triumph over all thine enemies." Then Dang Sendari served them dainty food; And what was left, to her the princess gave. The prince too _siri_ from the betel-box And rare sweet perfumes used. When evening came, A soft couch for the prince was spread. And then The princess sought her room, and curtains drew Of rich Egyptian stuff. The prince had asked, "When comes the spirit-king?" And she had said, "At early dawn." The young prince could not sleep, But through the long night hours sang soft _pantoums_. When daylight came the prince arose. He heard A spirit coming to the palace. Then with fear Was seized the princess fair. "Behold," she cried, "He cometh." Then the young prince took his arms. "Fear not," he said; "have confidence in God. What he decrees must always come to pass. If I'm destroyed, then follow me in death. I only ask one thing of thee, my love. When I am dead, I pray thee weep for me, And let thy mantle be my winding-sheet. Now let thy glances follow as I go." I'll tell of Ifrid now--the spirit-king. He lurked beneath the palace. When he heard The princess talking with the prince his ire Arose like burning flame. His cry was like A thunder-burst. The very palace shook. "Depart from here," unto the prince he roared, "And feel my mighty power." Then sweet love-songs Exchanging with the princess went he forth. His mien was like Sang Samba's, and his face Was nobly firm, as if he went to meet A roaring tiger. At his side he wore A rare carbuncled sword, and arrows bore With points in deadly poison dipped. Ifrid, The creature with two heads, like spectre came With laughter horrid. He took up a stone And hurled it at the prince, who dodged its flight. Then full of wrath Ifrid upon him rushed. But swift the prince let fly an arrow sharp, And pierced his heart. One groan, and then he fell, And died beside the river. Then the prince Made haste to join the princess. When she saw The spirit Ifrid dead she much rejoiced And bowed before the prince. Great gladness shone In her fair face, because her woe had ceased, And she was happy that 'twas to the prince She owed her rescue. 'Twas as if she'd found A mountain great of jewels. Then she said: "Caliph a high divinity once was And called himself King Lila. God will bless Thee for thy deeds, O mighty prince." The prince With kisses said: "Thou hast a charming mouth. Thy form is supple. Prithee tell me why I should not love thee? Thou art beautiful As a statue of pure gold, and thou shalt be A princess in my palace. Well I know Thine origin is noble, and thy race Is high." They gayly chatted while some food Was served. The prince, with pleasure, at the side Of the fair princess ate. When all was done He took some _siri_ from the betel-box And perfumes used. "Thou art a jasmine sweet," He said, "an antidote to every ill, And thou shalt be my wife." Next day the prince Took her behind him on his horse, and they Departed. The _dyangs_ accompanied them. Now will I tell about the _mantris_ all. Until the fall of evening, with the King Of Indrapura, they in waiting stayed, To welcome back the prince. And much disturbed They were that he delayed so long to come. The King then bade them seek the prince, and see Why he remained so long apart from them. Then _mantris_ four set out, and hunted far And wide, but found him not. They brought the news That he could not be found. The King was sad And ordered them to go and tell the King, His wife's dear father, that the prince was lost. The old King fainted when he heard the tale. With oil of rose they sprinkled him, and back Unto his senses came he. "O my child," He said, "my heart hath lost all hope. Where now Art thou? I'll go, myself, to seek." The King Wept much, and his dear wife. And as for her-- Sweet Bidasari--she appeared to wish To kill herself, for never on the earth Did brother love his sister like the prince And Bidasari. At the fall of day Back came the King of Indrapura, sad And weeping. Then the King of Kembajat Said: "O my son, be silent. Do not weep, For thou dost but increase the pain I feel." But Indrapura's King replied: "Alas! He was my brother true, so brave and good!" But while they were lamenting thus the prince Stood there before them with his consort fair. He bowed to all. The King, his father, saw And could not speak. He thought, "It is the voice Of my dear son." Then recognition came And he was wild with joy. The prince then told How he had chased the tiger, and had lost His way within a wood: how he had killed A spirit there, Ifrid, the dread. The King Heard all he said and much rejoiced. Then came The servants serving tasteful food to all. The King ate with his wife and children dear. Together they were six. All sorts of rare And dainty food were served them, and the King Took _siri_ from the betel-box, and used Sweet perfumes. The great King of Kembajat Then gave a festival which lasted quite Seven days, with music and diversions gay. Glad joy was at its height, of pleasure born And of the dance. The kings amused themselves. All kinds of games they had. Intji Bibi, A singer of Malacca, sang with grace. The seven days passed, the Princess Mendoudari Was all in finery arrayed. The wives Of the two kings took her in hand. The prince Was by the _mangkouboumi_ ta'en in charge. The princess sweetest perfumes did exhale. Her manners were most gracious and polite As of a well-born person. Every sort Of gem and jewel sparkled from her robes. She wore a ring--'twas _astokouna_ called-- And yet another one, _glangkano_ named, And still another, with bright stones all carved In fashion of Ceylon. Her tresses curled Like to a full-blown flower, and on them shone Full many precious stones. The _tourie_ buds Became her well. Her features were as bright As those of some celestial being pure. Fair Mendoudari thus was clad, and led To the bride's seat, and at her either hand Stood _mantris'_ daughters seven with waving fans. Meanwhile the _mangkouboumi_ patiently Achieved the tiring of the prince. He wore A royal crown, made in the island fair Called Nousa Antara, and a rich coat Which opened at the sides, made in the West. A chiselled necklace hung about his neck. His tunic flamed with orange, like the robe Of great Schahid Schah Pri. His girdle bright Was cloth of _tjindi_, fringed with agates rare. An amulet he wore with diamond pure, With sacred words engraved of the Koran. He wore a jewel like a butterfly, Most beautiful, and many rings and gems. His features of the rarest beauty were, Like those of some divinity of heaven. When thus arrayed, the youthful prince came forth And made obeisance to his parents both. He went to the appointed place, and all The children of the court assembled there Before him, while two sons of heralds stood Beside him, waving fans like floating clouds. All kept the strictest silence. Then a band Of soldiers came, with blades all glittering. The royal sword, all diamond decked, flashed rays Of light. Three times around the island went They all, with sound of music and the noise Of bells. And all who heard in vain essayed To estimate the number. Everyone Ran forth to see the progress--men and women. Some tore their garments, some their children lost, Distracted by the pleasure and the noise. When ended the procession, the young prince At Princess Mendoudari's right was placed, Within the palace. Then to them was brought Rice called _adapadap_, and they became A wedded pair. And all the folk dispersed. In three days' time was Mendoudari dressed Anew by Bidasari. She was robed With vesture of embroidered silk. The prince Was likewise gayly clad, to suit the glad Occasion. Now again they made, in state, A royal progress round about the isle. The King and Bidasari rode in one Grand chariot, and, within another, went The prince and Mendoudari, his fair bride. Then back they came for rest, upon the soft Rich palace cushions. Then the mighty King Of Kembajat inquired of his dear wife: "What think'st thou, love? Shall we to-morrow morn Return?" With smiles the Queen replied, "I bear Thine orders on my head." Next day the hearts Of all the royal company were filled With joy. The officers assembled then To take the King's commands, and he was pleased To see them dutiful. The following morn The song of the _bajans_ awaked the King. At early dawn each princess with her lord, And all the officers, embarked upon The ship. They sailed far from the island fair, Nousa Antara, and in three days came To Indrapura and the river's mouth. When at the palace they arrived again, The _mantris_ came in joy and kissed their hands. The King of Kembajat said that he wished To go. Scarce had fair Indrapura's King Heard that his parents to their home desired At once to go, when he the _mantris_ called And orders gave. The King of Kembajat Set out with his dear wife next day at dawn. Within the palace of their daughter sweet They met fair Indrapura's King. The King Of Kembajat sat at his side, and said In softest tones: "Well, Bidasari, child, Thy parents now will homeward fare. Obey The King, thy gracious husband, in all things. The former merchant brought thee up. He will A father be to thee. Strive hard to win Thy husband's heart, and never disregard His wishes." Scarcely had she heard these words Than at her father's knees she fell, and shed A flood of tears. The King embraced his child And, weeping, said: "My daughter dear, pure gold, My crown's chief gem, light of my very eyes, Branch of my heart, be not disturbed, my soul, Nor let thy heart be sad." The royal four All wept together. Then the father said: "My son, accomplished prince, we trust to thee Our Bidasari. Show her the right path If she aside should step, for hither she As prisoner came. Correction should she need, For us it will not be a shame." At this Fair Indrapura's King was greatly moved. He bowed and said: "My father, speak not thus. I have the best opinion of the girl. Our hearts are one, as body with the soul. This kingdom all is hers, the guardian I Of her possessions, and I'll satisfy Her every wish." The King with joy replied: "Well, daughter, jewel of my crown, thou art No more beneath my sway, but wholly now Under the orders of thy husband dear." He much was moved, and to the _mangkouboumi_ Said, "Brother, take my treasures all, for we Can never all thy goodness recompense." The former merchant and his wife bowed low: "Your gratitude, O prince, is great, but all Thy treasures are thy royal daughter's meed. For her we'll guard them." But the King replied: "Nay, speak not thus, my brother. Should I give All Indrapura's weight in purest gold It would not pay thee for thy care and love. We are to thee devoted from our hearts." At dawn they breakfasted, but all were sad, Because from Bidasari now must part Her parents dear and brother. Much she wept Because she felt her heart go out to him Her brother. Then she said: "I've one to take The place of parents, but where shall I find A brother?" Princess Mendoudari bowed To Bidasari, and they kissed with tears. Fair Bidasari said: "My sister dear, Sweet Mendoudari, when wilt thou return? Stay not too long at Kembajat, for I Could not thine absence bear. Farewell, my love." The King embraced his daughter. Bitterly Both wept. The royal father said, "Stay here, My son-in-law, with thy dear wife." The King Before his parents bowed. The youthful prince Before the King his brother bowed, and went To Bidasari's side, his sister dear, With heavy heart. Then, weeping much, he said: "O sister mine, gem of my crown, be not So sorrowful. I go, but if thou dost Desire, I'll come each year to visit thee." Sweet Bidasari kissed him. But her grief Was inexpressible. "O brother dear, Illustrious prince," she said, "thine absence would E'en then be much too long." The prince replied, With bows: "Assuage thy grief, my sister dear. For if the King permits, perhaps I may Come sooner back to thee." The mighty King Of Indrapura said, in friendly tones: "Although he be thy brother, still, my dear, I love him much. We ne'er have had the least Misunderstanding. Why art thou not gay? And why art thou not willing he should go? If 'twere not for thy father I would keep Him here." The King departed, followed by His son, who took his father just beyond The gates. The _mangkouboumi_ bowed his head Before the King, who with much ardor said, "O father of dear Bidasari, give Aid and protection to thy lovely child." The _mangkouboumi_ bowed again, and said: "Whate'er is fit, I'll do. Upon my head I bear thine orders. I thy servant am." The prince embraced the former merchant too, And said, "O uncle dear, my sister guide, And counsel her if any fault she doth." Then said the King of Kembajat, "My son, Come, let us start at once." So forth he fared. The prince and all the escort with him went. A few days passed and they were home again. New garments to the escort all were given, And many presents to the officers. By _mantris_ four the King rich treasures sent Unto his children loved, with many steeds And elephants. When safely they arrived At Indrapura, they appeared before The _mangkouboumi_. He presented them Unto the King, and said: "O sire, these gifts Are from thy son." The King replied: "Why dost Thou bring them here, my uncle? Keep them all In thine own treasury." Then he retired Within and said to Bidasari sweet: "Thy father, dear, hath sent us presents rare, And four young _mantris_, and a thousand men With elephants and horses. All is thine." The fair young Queen with smiles to him replied: "All that with me to share thou dost desire. Whatever be thy wish, I wish it too." The King adored his wife, and was to her Devoted. His great happiness increased And his domains extended every year. When Bidasari's royal birth was known, The news spread far and wide, and everywhere Was told. The realm of Indrapura grew More populous and powerful year by year. The wicked Princess Lila Sari lived Alone and desolate, in sadness deep And full repentance for her evil deeds. This song is weak because my skill is small. My heart was deeply stirred. And that is why I made, poor fakir I, this poem here. I have not made it long, because too sad I was, and troubled. Now at last 'tis done. For this, at least, your blessings I deserve. THE END. SEDJARET MALAYOU LEGENDS OF THE MALAY ARCHIPELAGO [Translated by M. Devic and Chauncey C. Starkweather] Once upon a time lived King Iskender, son of King Darab. He traced his origin to Roum; Macedonia was his native country, and Dhoul-Garnein his surname. Now it happened that this prince set out upon his travels to find the place where the sun rose; and he arrived at the frontier of India. There reigned in this country a very powerful king, to whom half of India was in subjection; and his name was King Kida Hindi. As soon as King Kida Hindi heard of King Iskender's approach, he gave orders to his prime minister, who gathered together the armies and princes who were subject to him. When all were met together, he marched forth to meet King Iskender. The two armies engaged and the conflict was carried on with extreme activity on both sides, as is related in the history of King Iskender. Kida Hindi was defeated and taken alive. Iskender ordered him to embrace the true faith, and Kida Hindi embraced the faith and became enrolled in the religion of the prophet Abraham, the friend of God, to whom be the glory! Then King Iskender caused him to be clothed in a garment like his own, and bade him return to his own country. King Kida Hindi was the father of a very beautiful girl, whose equal was not to be found in her day. Her face had the dazzling lustre of the sun or the moon; she was modest and discreet. Her name was Chehr-el- Beria. King Kida Hindi took his prime minister aside and said to him: "I have summoned you to ask your advice on the subject of my daughter, whose equal in these days cannot be found. I have formed the project of presenting her to King Iskender." The minister answered: "Your Majesty has made a wise decision." "Very well," replied the King, "to-morrow, God willing, you shall go and find the prophet Khidar and relate to him the whole matter." Next day accordingly the minister set out to find the prophet Khidar. After his departure King Kida Hindi commanded that the name of King Iskender should be inscribed on the coins and standards of his realm. When the minister approached the prophet Khidar he made a salaam to him, which the prophet returned and asked him to be seated. Then the minister spoke as follows: "You must know, O prophet of God, that my King entertains for King Iskender an affection so fervent that I cannot describe it. He is the father of a girl who has no equal among the children of this world's monarchs from the rising to the setting sun. She is without a rival in face, wit, and goodness of disposition. Now the desire of the King is to present the princess before King Iskender, with the view of ultimately giving her to him for his wife." Now the soldiers of King Souran laid siege against the walled town of Gangga-Chah Djouhan; but those on guard repulsed them, so that they could not get near. Seeing this, King Souran advanced, mounted on an untamed elephant. Taking no heed to the arrows that were launched against him by the defenders of the wall, he reached the gate and struck it with his mace. The gate gave way and King Souran entered, followed by his warriors. When King Gangga-Chah Djouhan saw King Souran approaching, he seized his bow and shot an arrow with haste. The arrow struck the forehead of King Souran's elephant. The elephant fell on his knees. King Souran quickly leaped to the ground, drawing his sword as he did so; at a single stroke he struck through the neck of King Gangga-Chah, and the severed head rolled to the ground. The forces of Gangga-Nagara, as soon as they saw their prince fall, demanded the _aman_ (i.e., truce). King Gangga-Chah Djouhan had a sister, named Princess Zaras Gangga. She was exceedingly beautiful. The victorious prince took her for his wife. Then he resumed his march. Some time afterward he reached the city of Ganggayon. It was formerly a great city, the black stones of whose fortress survive even to this day. This fortress is at the extremity of the river Djoher. The name Ganggayon in the Siamese tongue means "treasury of emeralds." The King of the city was Rajah Tchoulin; he was a powerful prince, to whom all the kings of the land did obeisance. On the news of King Souran's approach, King Tchoulin called together all his troops and sent word to the kings who were his tributaries. When all were assembled he set out to repel the invaders. The multitude of his soldiers was like the waves of the sea; his elephants and horses stood up among them like islands; his flags and standards presented the appearance of a forest, and the cows' tails fluttering at the pike-heads presented the appearance of _lalang_ ploughers. The army came in four bodies and reached the banks of a river. There they saw the soldiers of King Souran, ranged like forest-trees. The Siamese exclaimed, "Pangkal," a word which means "river," and hence that river became known as the river Pangkal. The soldiers of Siam at once joined battle with the soldiers of Kling, who were Hindoos; and the battle raged with indescribable confusion. The soldiers mounted on elephants pressed forward these great beasts; the men on horseback made their horses champ with fury; the lancers pressed home their lances; those who carried pikes plied them furiously; and those who bore sabres dealt many a doughty stroke. Blood flowed like rain. The crash of thunder would have been drowned by the shouts of the warriors and the clash of arms. The dust that rose from the plain obscured the brightness of the day like an eclipse of the sun. So complete was the confusion with which the contestants mingled that it was not possible to distinguish the combatants of either side: each assailant was at the same time the assailed, and he who struck with his weapon himself at the same moment was stricken with a blow. Sometimes the soldiers attacked a comrade by mistake. Every moment crowds of people on either side were killed and wounded, many horses and elephants had their throats cut, and the blood shed covered the ground. The dust had disappeared; the combatants were seen struggling in masses so compact that neither party was able to retire from the battle. King Tchoulin managed to force a way by means of the elephant he rode through the innumerable horde of King Souran's soldiers; the corpses were piled up beneath his feet. A crowd of Hindoo warriors lost their lives. The rest of them began to give way. King Souran, on perceiving this, dashed forward to meet King Tchoulin in single combat. He mounted an untamed elephant eight cubits high that had no driver. But the elephant of King Tchoulin was also very brave. The two animals met; they attacked each other; the clash of their encounter was like the thunder that rends the earth; their tusks clashing and intertwining made a sound like that of a storm that never ceases. Neither could triumph over the other. Then King Tchoulin raised himself upon the beast he rode and brandished a javelin. He hurled it against King Souran; the javelin struck the elephant on his flank and pierced deep. At the same time King Souran shot an arrow which smote King Tchoulin in the breast and came out at his back. That prince fell to the earth and expired. The soldiers seeing their king dead, broke ranks and took flight in utter disorder, pursued by the Hindoos, who put to the sword all they overtook. Penetrating the ramparts of Ganggayon the Hindoo soldiers pillaged the town; the booty was immense. King Tchoulin had a daughter, extremely beautiful. Her name was the princess Ouangkion; she was presented to King Souran, who took her for his wife. The King then resumed his march and arrived at Temasik. The rumor of his approach soon reached China. People said, "Lo! King Souran comes with a countless army to conquer China. He has already reached Temasik." This news was heard with dire alarm by the King of China. He said to his ministers and to his officers: "What must be done to repel this invading multitude? If the King of Kling arrives here, he will doubtless ruin our country." The prime minister said: "O King of the world; I have a device for repelling him." "Very good," said the King; "do not fail to try it." The prime minister therefore caused a _pilo_, or ship, to be fitted out with rusty needles. They took also two kinds of trees, kamses and jujube trees, laden with fruit; these were placed on board ship with the soil in which they grew. Old men who had lost their teeth were chosen for passengers and crew. To these the minister gave his instructions and they started for Temasik. When they had reached this place King Souran was informed that a ship had arrived from China. "Go and ask these strangers," he said to his attendants, "at what distance does this country lie from us." The attendant put this question to the crew of the _pilo_ and received the following reply: "When we left China we were all still young, being scarcely twelve years old; and these trees were seeds which we had sown. But you see how old we are now, and how our teeth are fallen out; the grains of seed have become trees in fruit, and all this has happened during the time it has taken us to reach here." At the same time they took the needles of which they had a large quantity and said as they showed them to the Hindoos: "When we started from China, these were as thick as a man's arm, and now see how they are worn out by the rust. This will give you an idea of the length of the voyage: we could not keep count of the years and the months." On hearing this answer of the Chinese, the Hindoos ran to report it to King Souran, to whom they repeated all they had heard. "If the thing is as they say," replied the prince, "the land of China is still a very long way off. When shall we arrive there? We had better return home." "His Majesty is undoubtedly right," said the officers. King Souran meditated thus: "Behold, the contents of the land is known to me, but how can I learn the contents of the sea? I must needs enter the sea, in order to know it." Then he summoned his engineers and skilful men, and ordered them to fashion a box of glass with lock and fastenings within, in order that he might shut himself in it. The engineers made the box of glass just as the King desired it; they furnished it with a chain of the purest gold; then they presented it to King Souran, who was exceedingly well pleased with it, and rewarded them all with rich presents. The prince entered into the box, disappeared from the eyes of all present, and shut the door upon himself. They took the box to the sea, and let it descend even to the bottom. What treasures, what wealth, works of the Almighty, were seen by King Souran! The box fell until it reached a land called Dika. There King Souran came out of the box, and went forward, seeing most wonderful things. He arrived at a great and strongly fortified town, which he entered and saw a vast population, whose number God alone knows. This people, who call themselves the Badsam people, were composed of believers and unbelievers. The inhabitants of the town were astonished to see the face of King Souran, and his garments they looked upon with astonishment. They conducted him to the presence of their King, whom they call Agtab-al- Ard (_i.e._, Bowels of the Earth). This prince asked, "What man is this?" "My lord," was the reply, "it is a stranger, who arrived a moment ago." "Whence does he come?" "We do not know." Then the King addressed King Souran himself and said, "Who are you, and whence do you come?" King Souran replied: "I come from the world; I am the king of men; my name is King Souran." King Agtab-al-Ard was very much astonished on hearing these words. "There is, then," he said, "another world beside ours?" "The world," replied King Souran, "contains many races." "Glory to God almighty," said the King, full of surprise. Then he made King Souran ascend and sit with him on the royal throne. Agtab-al-Ard had a daughter, of great beauty, named Princess Mah-tab- al-Bahri ("Moon of the Sea"). He gave her in marriage to King Souran. That prince dwelt three years with her and had three male children by her. When he thought about these three children King Souran felt much troubled. He said to himself: "What will become of them, here, under the earth? Or how shall I withdraw them hence?" He went to see Agtab-al-Ard, and said to him: "If my sons grow up, will your Majesty allow me to see that they are brought into the upper world, in order that the royal line of Sultan Iskender Dhoul-Quameen may not be broken to the end of time?" The King answered, "I shall not hinder you." Then King Souran took leave of the King and prepared for his return. The King and his daughter shed many tears at parting. Then the King gave orders to bring the horse Sembrani, named Paras-al-Bahri ("Sea-horse"), which he gave to King Souran. The prince mounted the horse, which bore him from the sea, and carried him in the air above the billows. The troops of King Souran caught sight of the horse Sembrani, and recognized in its rider their King. The prime minister at once took a beautiful mare and led it to the shore. The sea-horse saw the mare and came to land to meet her, and King Souran descended. Then the horse Sembrani went back into the sea. King Souran said to his wise men and engineers: "Raise a monument which shall witness to my journey in the sea; for I wish the memory of it to be preserved even to the Resurrection day. Write out the story, so that it may be told to all my descendants." In obedience to the words of the King the wise men and engineers set up a stone on which they traced an inscription in the tongue of Hindostan. This done, King Souran gathered a quantity of gold, silver, jewels, gems, and precious treasures, which he laid up under the stone. "At the end of the centuries," he said, "there will come a king among my descendants who will find these riches. And this king will subdue every country over which the wind blows." After this, King Souran returned to the land of Kling. There he built a mighty city, protected by a wall of black stone having seven rows of masonry thick and nine fathoms high; the engineers made it with such skill that the joints of the stones were invisible, and the wall seemed cast of a single substance. The gate was of steel, enriched with gold and precious stones. This rampart enclosed seven hills. In the centre of the city extended a pool vast as the sea; from one bank it was impossible to discern an elephant standing up on the other. It contained very many kinds of fishes. In the midst of it rose a very lofty island, always covered with a mantle of mist. The King caused to be planted there every sort of flowering and fruit-bearing tree to be found in the world. None was lacking, and to this island the King would repair when he wished for recreation. He caused also to be planted on the banks of the pool a vast forest wherein wild animals were at large. And when the King wished to hunt, or catch elephants in the snare, he went to this forest. When the town was completed the King called it after himself, Souran-Bidgi-Nagara, and this town still exists in the province of Kling. In short, if one wished to relate all the rest of King Souran's history he would find it as long as that of Sidi Hanza. THE ADVENTURES OF BADANG It is related that there once lived at Salouang a husbandman who owned a slave named Badang, whom he employed in clearing forest-land. It happened one day that Badang spread his nets in the river; but on the following morning he found his net quite empty, and by its side some fish-scales and fish-bones. The same thing took place for some days following. Badang flung the fish-scales (_sisik_) into the river; from which circumstance was derived the river's name, Besisik. Meanwhile the slave said to himself: "Who is it who eats the fish caught in my net? I must watch and find out." With this intention he hid one day behind some trees and saw a _hantou_, or evil genius, or monster, who was eating the fish taken in his net. This _hantou_ had eyes red as fire, his hair was like woven osiers, and his beard fell down to his waist. Badang drew his knife, and, screwing up his courage, rushed up to the _hantou_ and seized him. "Every day," he said, "you eat up my fish. But this time you shall die at my hands." On hearing these words, the _hantou_ was afraid, and slipped aside, wishing to avoid the hands of his adversary; but failing to do so, he said to him: "Do not kill me; I will give you what you wish, on condition that you spare my life." Badang thought: "If I ask for riches, my master will claim them. If I ask the power to become invisible, they will put me to death as a sorcerer. Therefore it is best for me to ask for the gift of physical strength, in order that I may do the work of my master." In accordance with this resolution, Badang said to the _hantou_, "Give me the gift of physical strength; let me be strong enough to tear down and to uproot the trees; that is, that I may tear down, with one hand, great trees, a fathom or two in girth." The _hantou_ answered: "Your prayer is granted. You wish for strength; I will give it to you; but first it is necessary that you eat up what I vomit." "Very well," said Badang; "vomit, and I will eat it up." The _hantou_ vomited, and Badang set to work to eat it. He held the _hantou_ by the beard, and would not let him go. Then he attempted the uprooting of great trees; and, seeing that he tore them up with ease, he let go the beard of the _hantou_. Afterward, coming and going through the forest, he tore down enormous trees; he carried off, roots and all, those of a fathom or two in girth. As for the small ones, he tore them up by handfuls and flung them on all sides. In a moment the forest which had been a wilderness became level as a great plain. When his master saw this work he said: "Who has cleared our land? For I see that it is suddenly freed entirely from trees and brushwood." "It is I," said Badang, "who have effected this clearance." Then answered the master: "How have you been able to do this, single- handed, so quickly and in one job?" Then Badang related all the details of his adventure, and his master gave him his liberty. The report of these occurrences reached Singapore. King Krama immediately ordered that Badang be brought before him, and he called him Raden (_i.e._, Royal Prince). Once upon a time the King of Singapore ordered Badang to fetch for his repast the fruit of _kouras_, at the river Sayang. Badang went there alone in his _pilang_, or boat, which was eight fathoms long, and he punted it with a pole cut from the trunk of a kampas-tree a fathom in girth. When he arrived at the river Sayang, he clasped the _kouras_-tree. The branches broke, the tree fell, and his head struck against a huge rock. His head was not injured, but the rock was split in two. This stone is still seen to-day on the river Sayang, and it bears the name of Balou- blah, which means the "Riven Rock." His pole and boat have also been preserved to the present day. The day following his exploit Badang started back for Singapore, with his _pilang_ completely laden with sugar-cane, bananas, and _keladion_, or edible lily, root. He had eaten the whole cargo before he arrived at Djohor-the-Old. On another occasion the King of Singapore had caused a large ship to be built, fifteen fathoms long, in front of the palace. The vessel being finished, between forty and fifty men were ordered to push it into the water. They were unable to launch it. As many as 2,000 or 3,000 persons were equally unsuccessful. Then the King ordered Badang to undertake the operation. Badang undertook the task unaided, and pushed with such force that the vessel went right across the strait to the other shore. For this feat the King appointed him _houloubalong_, or officer of military rank. A report reached the province of Kling that among the officers of the King was a man of extraordinary strength, named Badang. Now there was a powerful athlete at the court of the King of Kling, who had no rival in the country. His name was Madia-Bibjaya-Pelkrama. The King ordered him to go to Singapore with seven vessels; "Go," said he, "and wrestle with this officer. If he defeat you, give him as a prize the cargo of the seven vessels; if you are victorious, demand of him an equal forfeit." "I obey, your Majesty," said the athlete, and started off with the seven vessels. When he arrived at Singapore they brought news to the King of the city, saying: "An athlete has arrived from the land of Kling to compete with Badang in many kinds of sports. If he is defeated, he will leave the cargo of his seven vessels as forfeit." The King came out of his palace to give audience. The Hindoo athlete presented himself. The prince told him to try a bout with Badang. Badang beat him in every round. Now facing the _balerong_, or court of audience, was an enormous rock. The athlete said to Badang: "Come, let us match our strength by lifting this stone. Whoever cannot lift it will be conquered." "Do you try first," said Badang. The athlete commenced, and made many attempts without succeeding in lifting it. At last, mustering all his strength, he raised it to the height of his knee and let it fall again. "Now it is your turn, my master," he said. "Very good," answered Badang, and lifting the stone he swung it in the air, then hurled it toward the river, at the entrance to the town, where it is still seen at the extremity of the point of Singapore. The athlete of Kling, thus vanquished, handed to Badang the seven vessels and their cargoes; then he returned, very much saddened and mortified by his defeat. Now the report came to the country of Perlak that there was at Singapore an officer of the King named Badang without a rival in extraordinary strength. The King of Perlak, so runs the story, had an athlete named Bandarang, also very strong and of a great reputation. This athlete was before the King when they spoke of Badang. "My lord," he asked, "is Badang stronger than I am? If you will permit me, I will go to Singapore to try an assault with him." "Very well; go to Singapore," said the King. Turning to the prime minister, Toun Parapatih, he said: "Get ready a _praho_, for I am going to send Bandarang to Singapore." When all was ready, a royal litter was prepared and the minister embarked with the athlete, and after a while reached Singapore. Prince Sri Rana Ouira Krama received the King's litter in the audience- chamber, among the radjas, ministers, body-guards, heralds, and other grand officers upon his command. Then the prince, addressing the ambassador, asked: "With what commission is our brother charged?" The ambassador replied: "Behold, I have received the command of your illustrious younger brother to bring here this subject Bandarang, to try his strength with Badang. If Bandarang is vanquished, your brother will place at your Majesty's feet the contents of a storehouse; and if Badang succumbs, you shall offer us the equivalent." "Very well," said the King; "to-morrow everything shall be arranged for the struggle." The King retired to the palace, summoned Badang, and said to him: "You know, Badang, that to-morrow you will have to contend with Bandarang." "My lord," answered Badang, "know that this man is a powerful athlete, of extraordinary strength, famous in all countries. If your slave is vanquished will it not cast some discredit on the sovereign? If your Majesty thinks it wise, let us both be called into your presence together, so that I may test him; and if I feel myself capable of competing with him, we will have the contest; but if he is too strong for me, then your Majesty can oppose the struggle." "You are right," said the King. That is why, when night came, the prince invited Toun Parapatih Pendek, Bandarang, and their companions. When they arrived they were served with a collation. Bandarang was seated beside Badang, who began to test him. They tried each other's strength without attracting attention. At the end of an hour, when the guests were in wine, the King asked Badang if he were strong enough to struggle with Bandarang, who declared that he was equal to him. On the other hand, when Toun Parapatih Pendek had returned to the ship, Bandarang said to him: "Lord, if you will permit me to advise, there will be no contest between Badang and me. I might not conquer, for I have learned how powerful he is." "Very well," said the minister; "it is very easy to arrange that." So the minister said to the King: "It is my opinion that we should prevent this struggle; for if one of the contestants should be vanquished in some bad way, a quarrel might arise out of it between your Majesty and the sovereign your brother." The King agreed, and the ambassador asked leave to return home. The prince had a letter written for the King of Perlak. It was carried in state on board the ship and the envoy, after receiving vestments of honor, set sail to his own country. Arriving, he told the King all that had taken place. Later Badang died and was buried at Bourou. When the news of his death arrived at that country, the King of Kling sent a carved stone, which is now seen at Bourou. And now as to the kings of Pasey. The authors of this story declare that there were two brothers named Marah who lived near Pasangan. They were originally from the mountain of Sanggong. The elder was named Mara-Tchaga, and the younger Marah-Silou. Marah-Silou was engaged in casting nets. Having taken some _kalang-kalang_, he rejected them and cast his net anew. The _kalang-kalang_ were caught again. After several attempts with the same result, Marah-Silou had these _kalang-kalang_ boiled. And behold, the wretched things became gold and their froth became silver. Marah-Silou caught more _kalang-kalang_, boiled them, and again saw them become gold and silver. He had thus acquired much store of gold and silver, when one day the news came to Marah-Tchaga that his younger brother was catching _kalang-kalang_, and he was so irritated that he wished to kill him. When Marah-Silou learned of this design, he took refuge in the forest of Djawn. The place where he fished is still called the Plain of Kalang-Kalang. Marah-Silou, established in the forest of Djawn, gave gold to those who dwelt there, and they all obeyed his commands. One day when he was hunting, his dog, named Si Pasey, began to bark on a slight hill which one would have believed made by the hand of man. Climbing the small hill he saw an ant as big as a cat. He took it and ate it up. The place was afterward called Samodra; that is to say, "The Big Ant." Now it is said that the prophet of God--blessings be upon him!--once told his companions: "There will be a country some day, toward the south, called Samoudra. When you hear it spoken of, hasten thither to convert the inhabitants to Islam, for in that country many will become the friends of God. But there will also be the king of a country called Mataba, whom you must take with you." A long time after this decree of the prophet, the fakir Mahomet went to Samoudra. Reaching the shore, he met Marah-Silou, who was gathering shells. The fakir asked him: "What is the name of this country?" "Its name is Samoudra," answered Marah-Silou. "And what is the sovereign's name?" "I am the sovereign of all who dwell here," said Marah-Silou. The fakir Mahomet converted Marah-Silou to Islam and taught him the words of the creed. Now Marah-Silou being asleep dreamed that he was in the presence of the prophet of God, and the prophet said to him, "Marah-Silou, open your mouth." He opened it and the prophet spat in it, and Marah-Silou, awaking, perceived throughout his whole body a perfume like that of spikenard. When day broke he told his dream. "This is truly the country of Samoudra of which the prophet of God has spoken," said the fakir Mahomet. Bringing from the ship all the royal ensigns aboard, he proclaimed Marah-Silou king with the title of Sultan Melik-es-Salih. Sultan Melik-es-Salih sent Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din to the country of Perlak. This prince had three daughters, two of blood-royal on their mother's side, and one born of a concubine. The latter was called the princess Ganggang. When Sidi Ali Ghaiath arrived at Perlak they showed him the three daughters. The two sisters of the blood-royal were seated lower than the princess Ganggang, who occupied a high seat. The latter, by order of her father, was cleaning arec nuts for her two sisters, like one doing the honors of the household. She wore rose-colored garments and a violet cloak. Her ears were adorned with _soubangs_ made with the young leaves of the _lontar_. She was very beautiful. Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din said to the King of Perlak, "That one of your daughters who is seated above is the one I ask in marriage for my master, your son." The envoy knew not that Princess Ganggang was the daughter of a concubine. The King burst out laughing. "Very well," he said, "let the will of my son be accomplished." Then he gave orders to equip 100 _prahos_, and Toun Parapatih received the command to accompany the princess to the country of Samoudra. Sultan Melik-es-Salih went to meet the princess as far as Djambou Ayer. He introduced her into Samoudra with a thousand honors and splendors, and married her. The marriage accomplished, the prince gave presents to the ministers and to the officers, and showed himself lavish in gold and silver to the poor of the country. As for Toun Parapatih Pendek, he took leave to return to Perlak. Sultan Melik-es-Salih and the princess Ganggang had two sons who received from the prince the names of Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir and Sultan Melik-el-Mansour. The elder was confided to Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din and the other to Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. Years passed and the two young princes had grown up. Perlak had been conquered by an enemy come from the opposite coast, and the inhabitants of the country had migrated to Samoudra. Sultan Melik-es-Salih conceived the plan of founding a city to establish his sons there. He said to the great ones, "To-morrow I shall go hunting." The next morning he set out, mounted on an elephant called Perma Diouana. He passed to the other side of the water. When he came to land his dog Si Pasey began to bark. The prince ran up and saw that he was barking before a hillock, sufficiently extended for the erection of a palace and its dependencies, level on top and well disposed. Sultan Melik had the ground cleared and built a palace and a city there. After the name of his dog he called the palace Pasey, and established as king his son Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir, with Sidi Ali Ghaiath as minister. He divided his men, his elephants, and his royal standards into two parts, one for each of his sons. Some time after this, the prince, having fallen ill, commanded the grandees to assemble and called his two sons and spoke as follows: "Oh, my two sons, and you all, my companions, my last hour is approaching. You men be good to those whom I leave behind. And you, my sons, beware of being envious of another's good, and of the wives and daughters of your subjects. Maintain between you the union of two brothers, abstain from all injustice, and avoid between you every cause of quarrel." He said also to Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din and to Sidi Asmai-ed-Din: "Oh, my brothers, take care of these two sons. Stir not up trouble between them. Be faithful to them and never give your allegiance to another king." The two young princes bowed their heads and wept. As for the two ministers, "Lord," they said, "light of our eyes, we swear by the sovereign Master who created the worlds that we will never break our promises, that we will never lack in our fidelity or render homage to another king than your two well-beloved sons." Then Sultan Melik-es-Salih named his son Melik-el-Mansour, King of Samoudra. Three days later he died and was buried in the interior of the palace. Their father dead, the two young princes, his sons, commanded the royal herald to assemble the officers and soldiers, elephants and horses, as well as the royal insignia of the country of Pasey. And the two cities grew and flourished more and more. God knows best the truth. He is our aid and our refuge. Now this is the story of the King Chehr-en-Naoui. His power was great, his officers and soldiers innumerable. They told this prince that the country of Samoudra had a large population, many merchants, and a powerful king. Chehr-en-Naoui said to his officers: "Which of you would be able to take the King of Samoudra?" One of his officers very strong and brave, Aoui Ditchou, bowed and said: "Lord, if your Majesty will give me 4,000 chosen warriors, I will take the King of Samoudra alive and bring him to the foot of your Majesty's throne." The King gave him the 4,000 warriors and 100 ships. When they were ready Aoui Ditchou sailed toward Samoudra, feigning that the ships were bent on commerce up to the very moment when they reached the end of the voyage. Then he caused it to be said that he was an ambassador of the King Chehr-en-Naoui, and the King of Samoudra sent some officers to receive him. Landing, Aoui Ditchou put into four chests four lusty _houlou-balongs_, to whom he said: "Presently, when you are in the presence of the King of Samoudra, open the chests, leap out, and seize the King." The chests were fastened from within. They took them ashore in state as presents from the King Chehr-en-Naoui. When they were in the presence of the prince, a message couched in flattering terms was read, and the chests were brought in. Immediately the _houlou-balongs_ opened the chests, sprang out, and seized the sovereign. The soldiers uttered fierce cries and unsheathed their arms to attack the band of Chehr-en-Naoui's men. But the latter cried: "If you fall upon us, we will kill your King." So the soldiers paused in their attack. Aoui Ditchou and his people returned, bringing with them the King of Samoudra. They crossed the sea and regained their own country. There the prisoner-King was conducted by Aoui Ditchou before King Chehr-en-Naoui, who was very joyful and loaded the head of the expedition and all his companions with honors. As for the King of Samoudra, they made him a poultry-keeper. Now let us talk of Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din. Having consulted with the principal ministers in the country of Samoudra, he equipped a ship and purchased a cargo of Arabic merchandise, for the inhabitants of Pasey at that time all knew the Arabic language. Sidi Ali and the soldiers whom he embarked on the ship with him took all the ways and manners of the Arabs. The minister being on board and all being made ready, they set sail for the country of Chehr-en-Naoui, where they arrived after a short voyage. Sidi Ali landed and went to present himself to the King, bearing as a gift a tree of gold, of which the fruits were all sorts of precious stones, and which was worth an almost inconceivable sum. When the prince saw this present he asked: "What do you want of me?" Sidi Ali replied, "We want nothing." The King was highly pleased, although surprised by such a magnificent present. And he said to himself, "Now, what can be the aim of these people giving me all this?" The pretended Arabs returned to their ships. A few days after, the master of the ship returned to visit the King. This time he brought as a present a chess-board of gold of which the chessmen were of precious stones, which was worth an enormous sum. "What do you want of me?" again asked the prince. "Speak, that I may satisfy you." And they replied, "We ask for nothing." Then they returned to the ship. Some time later, when the favorable monsoon blew for their return homeward, Sidi Ali Ghaiath thought upon his departure. He went to see the King, laden with a present which consisted of two golden ducks, male and female, enriched with precious stones, and in a big golden basin. He filled this golden basin with water, put in the ducks. They began to swim, dive, and pursue each other, a sight at which the King marvelled much. "I beg of you to tell me," he said, "what you desire of me. By the God whom I worship, I swear to fulfil your wishes." Then Sidi Ali answered: "Lord, if it is the accomplishment of your favor, we beg that you will give us your poultry-keeper." "It is the King of Pasey that you ask of me. But, very well, I grant him to you." "It is because he is a Mussulman," said the strangers, "that we ask him of your Majesty." The King Chehr-en-Naoui delivered therefore the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir to Sidi Ali Gaiath-ed-Din, who took him on board the ship, gave him a bath, and then clothed him in royal raiment. The wind blew, they weighed anchor, set sail, and after a certain time arrived at the country of Samoudra. And God knows the truth. He is our aid and our refuge. Now we are going to speak of the King Melik-el-Mansour at Samoudra. This prince said one day to Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din: "I would like to go and see how my brother is getting along." The minister answered, "Do not go, my lord, for fear of misfortune." And, indeed, he tried to restrain his master. The prince would listen to nothing, and finally the minister was silent. He ordered the drums to beat, in order to make the announcement, "Sultan Melik-el-Mansour is going to see the country of his brother." Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din was not satisfied. He was an old minister who knew that out of every affair causes of trouble may arise. But it was his duty to obey. The prince started. He made the tour of the city of Pasey, and then entered the palace of the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir. There he fell in love with one of the ladies-of-honor of his brother's court, and a quarrel arose between the two brothers on her account. Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir felt in the bottom of his heart a violent irritation toward his brother. Now he had a son named Radja Ahmed, very young when his father was captured, but grown up when the prince was restored from the hands of Chehr-en-Naoui. Sidi Ali Ghaiath-ed-Din having withdrawn from affairs, a minister named Parapatih Toulous Toukang Sikari had replaced him in his ministerial functions. One day the King said to the minister: "What is your opinion concerning the act of Sultan Melik-el-Mansour?" The minister answered: "We have a means----" "But," answered the King, "it might involve his death." "If he dies," replied the minister, "my name shall be no longer Toukang." "Give a family fête for your son Sultan Ahmed. We will invite Sultan Melik-el-Mansour to the festival." Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir gave orders then to decorate the city and made preparations for the fete, and sent to find Sultan Melik-el-Mansour. This prince was with Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din and his officers. They introduced the prince and his minister, but left the officers outside. When they had entered, Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir caused them both to be seized and ordered one of his officers to conduct his brother to Mandjang. "As for you," he said to Sidi Ali, "stay here. Do not try to go with your master or I'll cut off your head." Sidi Ali answered: "Rather let my head be separated from my body than that the servant should be separated from his master." So the King had his head cut off. The head was thrown into the sea and the body impaled at the entrance to the Bay of Pasey. While they were taking the Sultan Melik-el-Mansour toward the east in a _prabo_, at the moment when they arrived near Djambou Ayer, the pilot saw a human head floating in the water near the rudder. He recognized the head of Sidi Ali. Informed of this event, Sultan Melik-el-Mansour caused the head to be taken from the water. It was indeed that of his minister. Casting his glances toward the land: "Behold," he said, "the Plain of Illusions." And it bears that name, "Padang-Maya," to this day. The prince sent to his brother and demanded the body of Sidi Ali; joined the head with the body, and buried both in the Plain of Illusion. Then he went back to Mandjang. After the departure of the Sultan Melik-el-Mansour, King Melik-ed- Dhahir had the family festival. The Sultan Melik-el-Mansour had been at Mandjang three years when the Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir bethought him of his brother. "Alas," he said, "I was truly too unwise. For a woman my brother dethroned, and his minister is dead." And the prince repented. He ordered some of his officers to go and find his brother at Mandjang. They therefore brought back Sultan Melik-el- Mansour with the regard due to a king. When they arrived near the Plain of Maya, the prince landed to visit the tomb of Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. "I salute you, my father," he said. "Stay here, my father. As for me I go away, called by my brother." From the interior of the tomb Sidi Ali answered: "Where would the prince go? It is better to remain here." When the prince heard these words, he made his ablutions, said a couple of prayers, then stretched himself upon the tomb and expired. They bore to Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir the news that his brother was dead, in the Plain of Maya, in the tomb of Sidi Ali Asmai-ed-Din. He started at once, went to the place, and had his brother, Sultan Melik-el-Mansour, buried with the ceremonies of great kings. Then, after returning to Pasey, a prey to grief, he abdicated the throne in favor of his son, Sultan Ahmed. Some time after this, Sultan Melik-ed-Dhahir fell ill. He gave Sultan Ahmed his last instructions. "O my son," said he, "light of my eyes, treasure of my heart, never neglect the advice of your old servitors. In every affair take counsel with your ministers. Neglect not the duties of piety to God, the sovereign Master. Beware of injustice to men." Sultan Ahmed heard in tears the last words of his father. The prince died, and they buried him near the mosque. Sultan Ahmed was for many years on the throne and governed with much justice. Now, the author of this story says: "There was at Pasey a servant of God named Toun Djana Khatite. This man made the voyage to Singapore with two companions. Crossing the square of Singapore he passed by the palace of the King and saw the Queen. Near the palace was an areca tree, and while Toun Djana was looking at the Queen the tree split in two. At sight of this, King Sri Maharadja was extremely irritated. 'You see,' he cried, 'the conduct of Toun Djana Khatite. To call the attention of the Queen, he has acted thus. And he ordered him to be killed. So Toun Djana was led to the place of punishment, near a cake-shop, where Toun Djana Khatite received the blow of the poniard; his blood ran on the earth, but his body disappeared and no one could ever tell what became of it. The cake-shop-keeper covered the blood with the cake-cover, and the cake-cover was changed into stone, which is still seen at Singapore. According to a tradition, the body of Toun Djana Khatite was transported to Langkaoui and there buried." Some time later came the sea-monsters called _toudaks_ and attacked Singapore. They leaped upon the shore, and people who were there died in great numbers, overtaken by these _toudaks_. If they struck a man on the breast, they pierced to his back. If they struck the neck or the loins, they pierced clear through from one side to the other. There were many killed. People ran about crying: "The _toudaks_ are attacking us!" "What shall we do?" "How many dead? We shall all perish!" Padouka Sri Maharadja in great haste mounts the elephant and goes forth, followed by his ministers, his body-guards, and all his officers. Arriving at the seashore he sees with horror the work of these monsters, the _toudaks_. Whoever was wounded by them inevitably perished. The number of the victims became larger and larger. The prince ordered the men to make a rampart of their legs, but in their boundings the _toudaks_ succeeded in passing this barrier. They came like the rain, and the slaughter was terrible. While this was happening a young boy said: "Why make thus a rampart of our legs? That is an artifice very much to our hurt. If we should make a rampart of the trunks of banana-trees, would not that be better?" When Padouka Sri Maharadja heard the words of the child, "He is right," he said. And on his orders they hastened to construct a barrier of banana-tree trunks. When the _toudaks_ came bounding along their snouts were buried in the tree-trunks, and the men ran up and killed them. There perished thus of these _toudaks_ a number beyond computation. Their bodies formed heaps on the shore, and all the population of Singapore did not suffice to eat them. And the _toudaks_ ceased their leapings. They say, by the force of their boundings the _toudaks_ reached the elephant of the prince and tore the sleeve of his cloak. About this they made a song: "The boundings of the _toudaks_ tore The mantle which the Sultan wore, But here they ceased their onset wild, Thanks to the wisdom of a child." While Padouka Sri Maharadja was returning, the grandees said to him: "Lord, this child, though so young, has much wit. What will it be when he has grown up? You had better get rid of him." That is why they found it just that the King should give the order for him to be killed. After they had caused this young boy to perish, it seems that the city of Singapore felt the weight of his blood. Padouka Sri Maharadja reigned some time still and then died. He had as successor his son Padja Is Keuder Chah, who married the daughter of Toun Parapatih Toulous, and by her had a son named Radja Ahmed Timang- timanganga Radja Besar Mouda. This young prince was handsome and well formed, without equal in those days. When he was of age his father married him to the daughter of the King Salamiam, King of Kota- Mahlikie, who was named Kamar-al-Adjaaib, a princess of unrivalled beauty. King Is Keuder Chah had a _bendahari_, or major-domo, named Lang Radjouna Tapa, of the race of ancient inhabitants of Singapore, father of a very beautiful girl in the court of the King. The other court ladies calumniated this young woman, and the King in a rage ordered her to be impaled in the corner of the marketplace. Lang Radjouna Tapa was extremely wounded by the treatment of his daughter. "If in truth my daughter had offended," said he, "you might have simply had her killed. But why dishonor us thus?" On this he wrote a letter to Java saying, "If the Batara of Madjapahit wishes to attack Singapore let him come at once, for I will give him entrance into the fortifications." When the Batara of Madjapahit had read this letter he caused to be equipped 300 junks and a great quantity of other boats. A hundred thousand Javanese embarked, crossed the sea, and attacked Singapore. At the end of several days King Is Keuder commanded his major-domo to carry rice for the rations of the troops. Lang Radjouna Tapa answered, "There is no more, my Lord." For he wished to betray him. At daybreak he opened the gates of the fortifications and the Javanese entered. Inside the town there was a frantic combat. So many people were killed on each side that blood flowed like water. From this came the marks of blood which are seen to this day in the Plain of Singapore. The natives ceased their struggle and King Is Keuder escaped, descending from Salitar to the Moara coast. By the will of God, the house of Lang Radjouna Tapa was overturned, the storehouse for rice fell to pieces, and the rice was changed to earth. The _bendahari_ himself and his wife were changed to stone, and these stones are still found in the ditch at Singapore. After this victory the Javanese returned to Madjapahit. On arriving at Moara, King Is Keuder halted at nightfall. Now there came a multitude of iguanas, and, when day dawned they saw them gathered in a crowd near the halting-place. They killed them and threw their bodies into the river. But at night, iguanas again came in mass. The next morning the Singaporeans killed them, but that night as many more arrived. So that the place became putrid from the multitude of their bodies. The quarter is still called Biaoak Bousok, or "Putrid Iguanas." King Is Keuder Chah set out and came to another place, where he built a fort. But all they constructed by day was overturned by night. And the place still bears the name of Kota-Bourok, or "Ruined Fort." Starting from there the King advanced into the interior during many days and came to the Saning Oudjong. He found this place agreeable and left a minister there. Hence comes it that to this day Saning Oudjong is the residence of a minister. Then the King returned toward the coast near a river at the shore of the sea. The river was called Bartain. Is Keuder Chah halted at the foot of a very bushy tree. Then he began hunting. His dog, chasing some game, was struck by the foot of a little white gazelle and fell into the water. On this the prince cried: "Here is a good place to build a city, for even the little gazelles are valiant here." And all the grandees said, "His Majesty is right." The King therefore gave orders for the construction of a city at this place. He asked, "What is the name of this tree against which I have been leaning?" Someone answered, "It is a malaka-tree." "Very well," said he, "let Malaka be the name of the city." The prince established himself at Malaka. He had lived thirty-two years at Singapore, up to the capture of that town by the Javanese. He lived for three years more at Malaka, and then died, by the vicissitudes of this world, and had as successor his son Radja Besar Mouda. This prince governed with justice. He regulated the etiquette of the court. He first established a ministry of ceremonies to direct people who came to Balerong, and forty heralds who stood below the throne ready to take the orders of the King and carry to him the words of the public. He instituted among the sons of the grandees a body of pages serving as royal messengers and bearing everywhere the royal equipage. This prince had three sons, Radeu Bagousa, Radeu Tengah, and Radeu Anoumah, who all married daughters of Bauhara Toun Parapatih Toulous. At his death, Radeu Bagousa took his functions with the title of Toun Parapatih Permouka Berdjadjar. When, by the vicissitudes of the world, King Besar Mouda died, his son Radeu Tengah succeeded him. The latter had a son called Radja Kitchil Bessar, who at his death was his successor. He was just and guarded the interests of his subjects. No one in his time among the kings of the world equalled him in liberality. And the city of Malaka became large, well peopled, and the meeting-place of merchants. This King married a daughter of Toun Parapatih Permouka Berdjadjar, and by her had two sons, Radja Kitchil Mainbang and Radja Makat. He reigned for a certain time, when one night he dreamed that he was in the presence of the glorious prophet of God, on whom be blessings! And the prophet said to him, "Recite the words of the creed." And Radja Kitchil Bessar did as the prophet commanded. "Your name shall be Sultan Mahomet," said the prophet. "To-morrow at the moment of the Asr (in the afternoon) there will arrive a ship from Djedda, from which the men will descend to pray on the shore of Malaka. Follow all their orders." "Yes, Lord," replied the prince, "I shall obey your word." And the prophet disappeared. When day came the King awaked. He perceived upon his body the odor of spikenard and saw that he bore certain marks. "It is clear," he thought, "that my dream does not come from Satan." And he began to recite without relaxation the words of the creed. The ladies-of-honor who were in the palace were very much surprised to hear the King speak thus. "Has the King been touched by Satan, or has he lost his wits? Let us hasten to inform the _bendahari_." They ran to tell the _bendahari,_ who came at once, entered the palace, and saw the King repeating without cessation the words of the creed. "What is this language in which the King is speaking?" said the minister. "Last night," said the King, "I dreamed that I was in the presence of the glorious prophet." And he told his dream to the _bendahari_. "If your dream is not an illusion," said the latter, "what is the sign?" "Here is the sign that proves that I have really seen in a dream the prophet of God. Furthermore, the prophet told me: 'To-day, at Asr, there will arrive a ship from Djedda, from which the people will descend to say their prayers on the shore of Malaka. Follow their directions.'" The _bendahari_ was surprised at seeing the marks on the King. "Truly," he said, "if a ship arrives at the hour stated, then your dream is a reality. If it does not arrive, we shall judge that Satan must have troubled your spirit." The King replied, "My father is right." And the _bendahari_ returned to his house. Now at the hour of Asr there arrived a ship from Djedda which cast anchor. The master came on shore. He was called Sidi Abd-el-Aziz. He said his prayers on the shore of Malaka. The inhabitants, astonished at the sight, said: "Why does he stoop so and prostrate himself so?" And to see him better, the people pressed around, leaving no spot vacant, and making a great tumult. The noise reached the palace, and the King mounted an elephant and came in haste, accompanied by his grandees. He saw the master making all the ceremonies of his prayer, and all was in evident accord with the dream. "It is exactly as in my dream," he exclaimed to the _bendahari_ and the grandees. When the master had finished praying, the King made his elephant stoop, and took up the master with him and carried him to the palace. The _bendahari_ and the grandees all became Mussulmans, and by command of the King so did all the population, men and women, great and small, young and old. The master taught the King the ceremonies of prayer, and gave him the name of Sultan Mahomet Chah. The _bendahari_ received the title of Sri Ouak Radja; that is to say, "Paternal Uncle of the King," which he was in fact. And that is the first title of the _bendahari_. Sultan Mahomet regulated the ceremonial customs of the court. He was the first to prohibit yellow for the clothes of the person strange to the court, for handkerchiefs, borders of curtains, pillow-cases, mattresses, coverings of all kinds, ornaments of every nature, as well as for the decoration of houses. Furthermore the use of only three kinds of garments was permitted--the _kain_, the _badjoa_, and the _destar_. It was also forbidden to construct houses with projections sustained upon pillars not touching the ground, or with pillars extending beyond the roof or with observatories. The _prahos_ could have no windows in front. It was forbidden to carry clasps or ornaments of gold on the _kris_. No one strange to the court could have gold rings nor pins nor jingling bangles of gold and silver. Nobody without the royal consent had the right to wear on his clothes gilding of any sort; but the authorization once granted, one might wear it indefinitely. When a man presented himself at the palace, if he had a vesture falling beneath the girdle, if his _kris_ was not attached in front, if he was not clad in a _sabec_, he was not admitted, whatever might be his distinction. If anyone entered with his _kris_ attached behind, the officer took it away from him. Such were formerly the prohibitions of the Malay kings. Whoever transgressed was guilty of _lese-majeste_ and was condemned to pay a fine of one to five katis. White parasols were held in higher esteem than yellow ones, because they could be seen at a greater distance. That is why they were ranked higher; the first were for the King and the second for the princes. The objects of the king's private use, such as the spittoon, the ewer for his ablutions, the fan, and other like objects, had no fixed place, except the betel-tray and the sword, which they kept at the right and left of the sovereign. At the arrival and departure of an ambassador, the servitors of the King brought from the palace dishes and basins which were received by the head of the _bataras_ and deposited near the _bendahari_. They gave a dish and a scarf to the bearer of the letter. If the missive came from Pasey or from Harau, it was received with all the royal pomp--drum, flute, trumpet, kettledrum, and two white parasols together; but the bugle did not figure at this reception. The ministers preceded the elephant bearing the message, the bataras followed it with the _sida-sida_. The letter was borne by the chief of the _bedaouenda_, and they placed the elephant at the extremity of the _balei_. For the kings of these two countries were equal in greatness to the King of Malaka. Younger or older, all gave the salaam. Having reached the audience-chamber, the letter was received by the chief of heralds of the right, the one of the left being charged with transmitting the words of the King to the ambassador, and the herald of the right transmitted the answer. If the message came from another country than Pasey and Harau, they suppressed part of the men. The _cortege_ included only the drum, the flute, and a yellow parasol. They took, as was suitable, now an elephant, now a horse, and they halted outside the first exterior gate. When the message came from a more considerable sovereign, they employed the flute and two parasols, one white and one yellow. The elephant passed through the exterior gate, for formerly the royal entrance included seven fortifications. At his departure, the ambassador received a complete investiture, even were he only a simple ambassador of Rakan. The same gift was offered to our own ambassadors at the moment of their departure. When the King conferred a title, he gave audience in the _falerong_, with the following procedure: According to the rank, the person to be honored was brought on an elephant, on horseback, or simply on foot, with parasol, drum, and flute. There were green, blue, and red parasols. The noblest were the yellow and the white, which with the kettle-drums represented the height of distinction. The yellow with the trumpet was also very distinguished; they were the parasols of the princes and greatest personages. The violet, red, and green parasols were those of the _sida-sida_, of the _bataras_, and of the _houlou balongs_. The blue and black ones served for any other person summoned to receive a title. When the personage arrived at the palace, he was detained without. Then they read before the King a very fine piece. It was a descendant of Batl that held this office. The piece read, they took it out. He who received it was of the family of the candidate for honors. With this piece they brought a _tetampan_ scarf with which the reader invested the candidate, whom he then introduced into the audience-chamber. There a mat was stretched for him to sit upon in whatever place the King designated. Then arrived the vestments. For a personage promoted to the ranks of the _bendahari_ there were five trays. The sons of radjas and the grand officers had four trays only, and so on down through the various ranks. The servitors of the King charged with this duty approached the beneficiary and placed the vestments upon his shoulders. He crossed his arms, to hold the vestments in place, and they took him outside. The etiquette in that was the same for ambassadors awarded an investiture, each according to the rights of his rank. The beneficiary dressed himself outside and then re-entered. They decorated him with a frontlet and with bracelets, for every man who received a title wore bracelets, each according to his dignity. Some had bracelets in the form of a dragon with amulets, others had bracelets of precious stones, others of blue enamel, others of silver. These wore them on both wrists, those on only one. The beneficiary thus decorated went and bowed before the King. Then he returned accompanied according to his rank, or by the person who introduced him. The _cortège_ included now a drum and a flute alone, now trumpets or kettledrums, sometimes a white parasol; but the white parasol was a rare honor, as well as the kettle-drums, for the yellow parasol and the trumpet were very hard to obtain in those times. On festival days, when the King went forth in a palanquin, he was surrounded by high officers of state. At the head, before the sovereign, marched the _bataras_ and the _houlou balongs_, each following their charge. Footmen, also before the King, bore the royal insignia. The royal pikes were at the right and left; the _bataras_ had sword at shoulder. Before them marched the lancers. When the King gives a festival it is the _panghoulou bendahari_ who arranges everything inside the palace, stretches mats, decorates the _balerong_, and places the _bangings_ on the ceilings. It is he who looks after the repasts and sends the invitations; for the servitors of the King, his _bendahari_, his tax-gatherers, and the receiver of the port all depend on the administration of the _panghoulou bendahari_. He invites the guests and the _temonggoreg_ seats them. In the hall the guests eat four at a dish, to the end of the platform. If any one of the various fours are lacking the others eat without him, by threes or by twos or even one alone. For it is not permitted for those below to ascend to make up the number. The _bendahari_ eats alone or from the same dish as the princes. Such was in former days the etiquette of Malaka. There were many other regulations, but to relate them all would weary the attentions of my readers. At the month of Ramadhau, at the twenty-seventh night, while it was still light, they went in state to make adorations to the mosque. The _Temonggoreg_ was at the head of the elephant. They first took in state to the mosque the betel-tray, the royal insignia, and the drum. When night came, the King started for the mosque, following the ceremonial of festival days, made the prayer of perfumes, and returned. The next day the _laksamana_ carried in state the turban, for the Malay kings were accustomed to go to the mosque in a turban, a _badjon_, and a _sarong_. These vestments were forbidden at weddings except by express permission. It was also forbidden to dress in the Hindoo fashion. Only those persons who had worn this costume for a long time were allowed to wear it at prayers and at weddings. Festival days, great or small, the _bendahari_ and the grandees assembled at the palace, and the _panghoulou bendahari_ brought in pomp the palanquin. As soon as they saw it appear, the persons seated in the _balei_ descended and stood about. Seven times they beat upon the drum, and each time the trumpet sounded. After the seventh, the King set out on an elephant and came to the platform erected for that purpose, which he mounted. At sight of him, all those present bowed to the earth, except the _bendahari_, who mounted the platform to receive him. The palanquin having approached, the King placed himself in it, and they started for the mosque according to the ceremonial above mentioned. Such was formerly the etiquette of the Malay kings. Such I learned it, such I tell it. If I commit any error, I desire to be convicted by anyone who has given attention to this story, and implore the indulgence of the reader. THE PRINCESS DJOUHER-MANIKAM [_Translated by Aristide Marre and Chauncey C. Starkweather_] This is the history of the Princess Djouher-Manikam, whose renown is celebrated in all lands, windward and leeward. There was in the city of Bagdad a king named Haroun-er-Raschid, sovereign of a vast empire. He was a prince who feared God the almighty, and worthy of all praise, for he was a king descended from the prophet. After having lived for some time in his kingdom, he desired to start on a pilgrimage. So he addressed his ministers and his military chiefs and spoke to them as follows: "O you all, my subjects, my officers, what is your opinion? I would fain make a pilgrimage to the house of God." The cadi, prostrating himself, answered: "Sire, King of the world, the will of your sublime Majesty is very just, but in my opinion your departure would cause the ruin of the inhabitants of the fields, and those of your subjects who accompany you will have much to suffer." The prince, having heard these words, said: "The opinion of the cadi is loyal, and you, my officers, tell what is your advice." The officers arose, then they prostrated themselves and spoke as follows: "Sire, King of the world, we, your servants, beg you a thousand and a thousand times to cause your forgiveness to descend upon our heads, but how will your Majesty accomplish the pilgrimage? In whom can you trust to protect the country and watch over the palace?" The prince having heard these words of his officers, none of whom approved of the pilgrimage, kept silence and restrained his anger, and then departed and returned to the palace. Some days after this, by the will of the most high God, the heart of the prince felt more keenly still the desire to make the pilgrimage. He gave orders to gather together the interpreters of the law, the wise men, and the _muftis_, as well as the officers. When they were all assembled, the prince went to the audience-chamber, and there before the officers of the court he questioned one of the doctors. It was the _mufti_ of the city of Bagdad. He, prostrating himself, said: "The pilgrimage of his Majesty would be an excellent work, but is it of absolute necessity? For the voyage will be very long, and there is no one, my lord, who would be capable of ruling in the place of your sublime Majesty." The prince answered: "He in whom we first of all place our trust is God. We shall hope then in the blessing of his envoy. We shall leave the cadi here, and if it pleases God the most high, we shall return promptly as soon as we have accomplished the pilgrimage." The King therefore caused to be equipped and provided with all sorts of provisions, those of his subjects who were going to accompany him, and when, the favorable moment had arrived he started with the Queen, some of the maids-of-honor, and his son named Minbah Chahaz. He took his son, but he left behind, guarded in the palace, his daughter called the Princess Djouher-Manikam. In those times there was no one in the country of Bagdad who surpassed in beauty the Princess Djouher-Manikam. Furthermore, she had in her heart the fear of God the most high and worthy of all praise, and would not cease her prayers. After travelling for some time, the prince her father arrived at Mecca, and fulfilled his duties as a pilgrim. He recited the appropriate prayers. But observing that there was still a great quantity of provisions, the prince said to his officers: "It is good for us to wait a year or so, for our provisions are yet considerable." The officers replied: "It is well, lord of the world! Whatever may be your Majesty's commands, we place them above our heads." "Since it is thus," answered the prince, "it is fitting that we should send a letter thus conceived: Peace and blessing upon the cadi: I place my trust in God first of all, and in the cadi, to guard my kingdom, palace, and my child the Princess Djouher-Manikam. Be a faithful guardian, neglect nothing in the cares to be given to my kingdom, for I am going to remain another year for the great pilgrimage.'" The prince's letter reached the cadi. The latter gave all his efforts to the good administration of the country, and, according to the words of the prince, he avoided every negligence. But one night while he was on watch near the fortifications of the King's palace, Satan came to him and slid into his heart a temptation. The cadi thought in his heart: "The King's daughter is of a marvellous beauty; her name, Djouher-Mani-kam, is charming; and her face is lovely. Since it is thus, I must marry this daughter of the King." The cadi called the man who was guarding the gate, exclaiming: "Ho! Guardian of the gate! Open unto me." The guardian of the gate demanded, "Who is there?" The cadi replied, "It is I, the cadi." So the guardian promptly opened the gate, and the cadi entered within the fortification, then went up into the palace and found the princess there saying her evening prayers. He hid behind the lamp in a corner which was dark. When her prayer was finished, the Princess Djouher- Manikam cast her eyes in that direction and saw there was someone standing there in the shadow, so three times again she said the "verse of the Throne"; but she saw that the vision had not yet vanished from her eyes. Then the princess said in her heart: "What in the world is that? Is it a ghost? Is it a demon? Is it a djinn? If it were, it would have necessarily disappeared when I recited the 'verse of the Throne.'" The cadi heard these words and said: "O Princess Djouher-Manikam, it is I, the cadi." "What are you doing here?" asked the princess. He answered, "I wish to marry you." The Princess Djouher-Manikam said: "O cadi! Why do you act so to me? Have you then no fear of God the most high and worthy of all praise? Do you not blush before the face of my ancestor the prophet Mahomet, the envoy of God? May the peace and blessings of God be upon him! As for me, I am the servant of the Lord and I belong to the religion of the envoy of God. I fear to marry now. And you, cadi, why do you act so? My father gave you a charge. He sent you a letter which commanded you to protect the country and all who dwelt in his palace. Why do you conduct yourself in this fashion toward me?" The cadi, hearing these words of the Princess Djouher-Manikam, felt a great confusion in his heart. He went out of the palace and returned home full of trouble and emotion. When it was day, the cadi sent a letter to the King Haroun-er-Raschid at Mecca. It was thus conceived: "Your Majesty left me to be guardian of his kingdom, his palace, and his daughter. Now, the Princess Djouher-Manikam desires to marry me. This is the reason why I send this letter to your Majesty." Thus spake the cadi in his letter. When it reached the prince and he had read it, he immediately summoned his son Minbah-Chahaz. He came in haste, and the King gave him a cutlass and said, "Return to Bagdad and slay your sister, because she will bring shame upon the family by marrying now." Minbah-Chahaz bowed before his father. Then he set out to return to his own country. Arriving at the end of his journey, he entered the city, and went up to the palace of the Princess Djouher-Manikam. She was filled with joy and said, "Welcome, O my brother!" Minbah-Chahaz answered, "O my little sister, our parents will remain for the great pilgrimage." The brother and sister thus chatting together, the Princess Djouher- Manikam said, "O my brother, I wish to sleep." "It is well, my sister," answered Minbah-Chahaz; "sleep while your brother combs his little sister's hair." And the princess Djouher- Manikam slept. Her brother then took a cushion, which he slipped under the head of the young virgin his sister; then he thought in his heart: "If I do not execute the commands of my father, I shall be a traitor to him. But, alas, if I kill my sister, I shall not have a sister any more. If I do not kill her, I shall certainly commit a crime against the most high, because I shall not have obeyed the order of my father. I will fulfil then my father's will. It is a duty obligatory on all children. What good are these subterfuges?" His resolution thus confirmed, he bound his handkerchief over his eyes and directed his cutlass against his sister's neck. But at that instant, by the will of God the most high, a little gazelle came up and, by the power of God the most high, placed its neck upon the neck of the princess Djouher-Manikam, saying, "I will take the place of the princess Djouher-Manikam." And the little gazelle was killed by Minbah-Chahaz. That done he unbound his eyes and saw a little gazelle lying dead with its throat cut, by the side of his young sister the princess Djouher-Manikam. At this sight, Minbah-Chahaz was stricken with astonishment. He thought in his heart: "Since it is so with my sister, she must be entirely innocent, and cannot have commited the least fault. Nevertheless, although I am confident that she was calumniated by the cadi I must tell my father that I have killed her." Minbah-Chahaz set out then for Mecca, to find the prince his father. When he had arrived at Mecca he presented to his father the cutlass still stained with blood. The King Haroun-er-Raschid cried, "Praise be to God, the Lord of the worlds. Our shame is now effaced, since you have poniarded your sister and she is dead." Such were the deeds of this first story. The princess Djouher-Manikam, having awakened after the departure of Minbah-Chahaz, saw that her brother was no longer there, but that at her side there was a little gazelle with its throat cut. She thought in her heart: "The cadi has slandered me to my father, and that is why my brother came here with orders to kill me." The princess Djouher-Manikam felt a great shame and thought in her heart, "Since it is so, I must retire to a hidden place." Now in the King's park there was a solitary place in the midst of a vast deserted plain. There was a pond of very agreeable appearance there, many kinds of fruit-trees and flowers, and an oratory beautifully built. The princess Djouher-Manikam set out and retired to this place to pray to God the most high and worthy of all praise. She was established there for some time when, by the will of God the most high, a certain thing happened. SECOND STORY There was in the country of Damas a king who was named Radja Chah Djouhou. This King wished to go hunting in the deserted forests. His first minister said to him, bowing low: "O my lord, King of the world, why does your Majesty wish to go hunting in foreign countries?" King Chah Djouhou replied: "I insist upon my plan of going to hunt in foreign lands, in forests far removed from ours. I wish to go from place to place, from plain to plain. Such is my will." The prince set out therefore accompanied by his ministers, his chiefs, and his servants. They had all been hunting for some time and had not yet found a single bit of game. The prince had directed his march toward the forests of the country of Bagdad. These forests were of immense extent. The heat was excessive, and the prince, being very thirsty, wanted a drink of water. The people who generally carried water for the King said to him: "O lord, sovereign of the world, your Majesty's provision of water is entirely exhausted." The prince then asked of his officers and servants: "Which of you can get me water? I will reward him with riches and with slaves." These words were heard by one of his officers named Asraf-el-Kaum. He said: "O my lord, sovereign of the world, give me the vase which will serve for water, and I will go and seek water for your Majesty." Then the prince said to the people who had brought water for his use, "Give my emerald pitcher into the hands of Asraf-el-Kaum." The latter bowed low and started to seek water. Seeing from afar a very large fig-tree, he advanced in that direction. Arriving near the tree he saw at its base an oratory and a pond. At the oratory there was a woman of very great beauty. The splendor of her countenance shone like that of the full moon at its fourteenth day. Asraf-el-Kaum, astonished and moved with admiration, thought in his heart: "Is this a human creature, or is it a peri?" and Asraf-el-Kaum saluted the princess Djouher-Manikam, who returned the salutation. Then the princess asked him, "What is your desire in coming here to my dwelling?" Asraf-el-Kaum answered, "I have come here to ask you for water, for I have lost my way." The princess said, "Take water, lord." Asraf-el-Kaum plunged the emerald pitcher into the pond, and filled it with water. Then he asked permission to return. Arriving near the King Chah Djouhou he presented the pitcher to the prince, who seized it quickly and drank. "Asraf-el-Kaum," said the prince, "where did you find such fresh and delicious water? In all my life I have never drunk the like." Asraf-el-Kaum answered: "O my lord, sovereign of the world, there is a garden in the middle of the plain, and in this garden there is a very large and bushy fig-tree, and at the foot of this tree there is a pond, and near this pond there is an oratory. At this oratory there was a woman who was reading the Koran. This charmingly beautiful woman has no equal in this world. I saluted her and then returned to the presence of the sovereign of the world. That is what I saw, my lord." "Conduct me to this place," said the King. "O sovereign of the world, if your Majesty wishes to go thither, let it be with me alone. Let not my lord take his people with him, for it is a woman, and naturally she would be ashamed." The prince set out then on horseback with Asraf-el-Kaum. The princess Djouher-Manikam, seeing two cavaliers approach, thought in her heart: "I must hide myself, so that I may not be seen." So she left the oratory and went toward the fig-tree. She addressed a prayer to God the most high and worthy of all praise, in these terms: "O God, I beseech thee, give me a refuge in this tree, for thy servant, O Lord, is ashamed to look upon the faces of these infidels." Then by the will of God the most high, the tree opened in two and the princess Djouher-Manikam entered by the split, and the tree closed and became as it was before. The King Chah Djouhou and Asraf-el-Kaum arrived at the oratory, but the prince saw nothing of the princess Djouher-Manikam. He was astonished and said: "O Asraf-el-Kaum, the woman has gone. But just a moment ago I saw her from afar, seated at the oratory, and now she has suddenly disappeared." The prince added: "O Asraf-el-Kaum, perhaps, as with the prophet Zachariah (upon whom be blessings!), her prayer has been answered and she has entered this tree." Then he offered this prayer to God the most high and worthy, of all praise: "O God, if thou wilt permit that this woman be united to thy servant, then grant her to him." The prayer of the King Chah Djouhou was heard, and a woman of dazzling beauty appeared before his eyes. He desired to seize her, but the princess Djouher-Manikam pronounced these words: "Beware of touching me, for I am a true believer." Hearing these words the King Chah Djouhou drew back, a little ashamed. Then he said: "Woman, what is your country? Whose child are you, and what is your name?" The princess answered: "For a long time I have dwelt here, and I have no father nor mother. My name is Djouher-Manikam." The King, hearing these words of the princess Djouher-Manikam, took off his cloak and gave it to the princess, who covered all her body with it. Then she got up and descended to the ground. Then King Chah Djouhou, dismounting from his horse, received her, put her on his horse, and took her to the country of Damas. Asraf-el-Kaum then said to the King: "O my lord, sovereign of the world, you made a promise to your servant. Be not careless nor forgetful, my lord." "Asraf-el-Kaum, be not disturbed. I will fulfil my promise to you. If it pleases God, when I have arrived in our own country, I shall certainly give you all that I promised you." King Chah Djouhou set out for the country of Damas. After a certain time on the way, the prince came to the city of Damas and entered his palace. He commanded one of his pages to summon the cadi, and a page went promptly to call him. The latter, in all haste, entered the presence of the King. Chah Djouhou said: "O cadi, marry me to the princess Djouher-Manikam." And the cadi married them. After the celebration of the marriage the prince Chah Djouhou gave to Asraf-el- Kaum 1,000 dinars and some of his slaves, both men and women. King Djouhou and Princess Djouher-Manikam were happy and full of tenderness for each other. Within a few years the princess had two sons, both very beautiful. The prince loved these children very fondly. But above all he loved his wife. He was full of tender solicitude for her, and bore himself with regard to her with the same careful attention that a man uses who carries oil in the hollow of his hand. Some time later Princess Djouher-Manikam had another son of great beauty. The prince loved this third child tenderly. He gave him a great number of nurses and governesses, as is the custom for the children of the greatest kings. And he never ceased to bestow upon him the most watchful care. It happened one day that the ministers, the chiefs, and the courtiers of the King, all gathered in his presence, were enjoying all sorts of sport and amusements. The prince showed himself very joyous, and the princess herself played and amused herself with the three children. Her countenance shone with the brightness of rubies; but happening to think of her father, her mother, and her brother, she began to weep and said: "Alas, how unhappy I am! If my father, mother, and brother could see my three children, necessarily their affection for me would be greater." And the princess Djouher-Manikam burst into sobs. The prince, who was not far from there, heard her, and as the princess did not stop weeping he asked her: "O princess, why do you weep thus? What do I lack in your eyes? Is it riches or physical beauty or noble birth? Or is it the spirit of justice? Tell me what is the cause of your tears?" Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "Sovereign of the world, your Majesty has not a single fault. Your riches equal those of Haroun. Your beauty equals that of the prophet Joseph (peace be upon him!). Your extraction equals that of the envoy of God (Mahomet). May the benediction of God and blessings rest upon him! Your justice equals that of King Rouchirouan. I don't see a single fault in you, my lord." King Chah Djouhou said: "If it is thus, why then does my princess shed tears?" Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "If I wept thus while playing with my three children, it is because I thought that if my father, my mother, and my brother should see my three children, necessarily their affection for me would be greater. And that is why I shed tears." King Chah Djouhou said to her: "O my young wife, dear princess, are your father and mother still living? What is your father's name?" Princess Djouher-Manikam answered, "O my lord, my father is named Haroun-er-Raschid, King of Bagdad." Clasping her in his arms and kissing her, the prince asked her: "Why, until this day have you not told the truth to your husband?" And the princess answered: "I wished to avow the truth, but perhaps my lord would not have had faith. It is on account of the children that I tell the truth." King Chah Djouhou answered: "Since it is so, it is fitting that we should start, and make a visit upon King Haroun-er-Raschid." He called his ministers, ordered them to make all the preparations, and commanded them to place in order ingots of gold and ingots of silver on which were graven the name of King Haroun-er-Raschid; and his ministers' vestments woven of goats' hair and fine wool, stuffs of price, many kinds of superb precious stones of various colors, formed the burden of forty camels, which bore these presents to the King, his father-in-law, in the city of Bagdad. During the night Princess Djouher thought in her heart: "If the two kings meet, there will necessarily be discord, and at the end separation." Having thus thought she said to her husband: "O sovereign of the world, do not set out at the same time with me, for in my opinion the meeting of the two kings would have as a final result a disagreement. Permit me therefore to start first with the three children, that I may present them to my father and mother. Give the command to conduct me to the country of Bagdad, near my father, to whomsoever you shall judge worthy of your confidence for this mission." When the prince heard these words of the princess whom he loved so tenderly and whose wishes he granted, he ordered his ministers and chiefs to arrange the transport of the princess and her children. Addressing the ministers he said as follows: "O you my ministers, whom among you can I charge to conduct safely my wife and three children to Bagdad, near their ancestor King Haroun-er-Raschid?" No one among them dared approach and speak. All held silence. Then the prince, addressing the oldest minister of all, said: "O my minister, it is you to whom, following the dictates of my heart, I can trust to accompany my wife and three children. For I have always found you loyal and faithful to me. Beside, you are older than the other ministers. And you have the fear of God the most high and worthy of all praise as well as respect for your King." The minister said: "O my lord, it is in all sincerity that your servant puts above his head the commands of your Majesty. I shall do my whole duty in conducting the princess and her children to the King Haroun-er- Raschid." So the King Chah Djouhou trusted his wife and his three children to this perfidious minister, reposing upon the promise he had made. Forty camels were laden with presents, forty nurses for the children, one hundred ladies in the suite of the princess, a thousand cavaliers, well armed and well equipped, formed the escort. The princess took leave of her husband. He held her clasped in his arms, and, weeping, covered her and his three children with kisses. He bade her to present his homage to her father the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid, his salutations to her elder brother Minbah-Chahaz, and to place at the feet of their majesties a thousand and a thousand apologies, and to make his excuses to her brother Minbah-Chahaz. Then the prince said to the wicked minister: "O my minister, you must go now, and lead the camel of my wife, for I have perfect confidence in you. Above all, guard her well." But the King did not lean upon God the most high and worthy of all praise, and that is why God punished him. When the prince had finished speaking to the minister the latter said: "O my lord, King of the world, your servant bears your command on his head." So the cavalcade started on the march. Princess Djouher-Manikam mounted her camel with her three children. A body-guard held the van. She proceeded accompanied by the wretched minister and all the escort, wending from day to day toward the city of Bagdad. They had reached one of the halting-places when day was turning into night. The minister then erected a tent so that the princess might repose in it. The people put up their tents all about. Princess Djouher-Manikam dismounted from her camel and entered the tent, with her three children. The tents of the nurses and ladies-in-waiting surrounded the tent of the princess in a circle. In the middle of the night a violent rain began to fall. Then the wretched minister, stirred by Satan, was stirred in his heart. He thought: "The King's wife is most beautiful; beautiful, indeed, as her name, Djouher-Manikam. I must marry her." So the rebel minister started, and entered the tent of the princess, and asked her to marry him. He found her seated by her three children, occupied in chasing away the mosquitoes. When the princess saw him enter her tent she asked him: "O my minister, what brings you to my tent at this hour in the middle of the night?" The minister answered, "I have come to beg you to marry me." The princess then said: "Is that what brings you here? And it was to you that the King intrusted me on account of your great age, and as if you were my father. It was in you that he put all his confidence that you would take us safely, me and my children, to my venerable father, King Haroun-er-Raschid. What must be your nature, that you should so betray his trust?" The wretched minister replied: "If you refuse to marry me, I will kill your children." "Never," said the princess, "never shall I consent to marry you. And if you kill my children, what can I do against the decree of God, save to invoke his name?" The minister killed one of the children. When it was dead, he made the same demand on the princess for the second time, and she answered: "Never shall I consent to marry you." The minister said: "If you refuse, I shall kill another of your children." The Princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "If you slay my child, it is by the decree of God, and I submit to his will." The minister killed the second child. "No," repeated the princess. "Never shall I consent to wed you." The wretched minister said: "Then I will kill your third child." "If you kill him, what can I do but to submit to the will of God, and invoke his name?" The third son of the King was killed. Questioned anew, the princess said again, "Never shall I marry you." And the wicked minister said: "If you will not marry me, I will kill you, too." Then the princess thought in her heart: "If I do not appear to yield, he will kill me, too, without a doubt. I must employ a trick." Then she said: "Await me here, until I wash from my clothes and my body the stains of my children's blood." The minister accursed of God replied: "Very well. I await you here." Then the princess Djouher went out of her tent. The rain was falling in torrents. The princess, fleeing precipitately, walked during the whole night, not knowing where she was going. She had walked many hours when day broke. The princess arrived thus near a tree in the midst of the plain, and, having measured its height with her eyes, she climbed into it. At this moment there passed along the road a merchant who had made his sales and was returning to the city of Bassrah. His name was Biyapri. Passing beneath the tree he raised his eyes and beheld a woman seated in the tree. "Who are you?" he said; "are you woman or djinn?" "I am neither demon nor djinn, but a descendant of the prophet of God (may blessings rest upon him), a disciple of the prophet Mahomet, envoy of God." Biyapri climbed up the tree, put her on his camel, and taking up his journey conducted her to the country of Bassrah. Arriving at his house he desired to marry her. But she put him off saying: "Wait, for I have made a solemn vow before God not to look upon the face of a man for forty days. When the time expires, that will be possible. But if these forty days have not yet run I should surely die." So Biyapri installed her on his latticed roof and lavished attention and care upon her. Immediately after the flight of the princess Djouher-Mani-kam the minister commanded the whole escort to return and present itself to the King Chah Djouhou. He said to his people: "O all your servants of the Queen, see what has been her conduct. Her three children are dead, and it is she who killed them. After that she disappeared. Where has she taken refuge? Nobody in the world knows that. As for you, depart, bear the bodies of his three children to King Chah Djouhou, and tell him all the circumstances." Arriving in the presence of the King, they reported all the circumstances of the minister's treachery toward the princess, and the murder of his three children. They added that the minister had departed, leaving word that he had gone to find the princess, and had taken with him his own three sons, forty soldiers, and the treasure. When the prince had heard these words he was struck with a stupor. But his sorrow at having let the princess go without him was useless. He caused the three young princes to be buried. The King shed tears, and all the people of the household filled the air with cries and sobs, so that the noise seemed like the bursts of thunder, while the funeral ceremonies were proceeding according to the customs of the greatest kings. After that the King descended from his royal throne and became a dervish, the better to seek in all lands his well-beloved spouse. He had with him three slaves only. One of them was named Hestri. "Go," he said to him, "go seek your mistress in all countries." And he gave him a horse and some provisions. Hestri said: "May your Majesty be happy! O lord, King of the world, whatever be your commands, your servant places them upon his head." Hestri bowed low, then mounted his horse and rode away toward the city of Bassrah. After proceeding some time he reached Bassrah, and passed by the house of Biyapri. At this very moment the princess Djouher-Manikam was sitting on the roof of Biyapri's house. She looked attentively at the face of Hestri as he was passing by the house and called to him saying: "Hestri, what brings you here?" Hestri, casting his glance toward the roof, saw the princess Djouher- Manikam and said to her: "I was sent by your husband to seek you, princess." She replied: "Go away, for the present. Come back when it is night. As it is broad daylight now I fear lest Biyapri should discover our departure." Hestri, bowing low, replied, "Very well, princess." He walked here and there, waiting till night should come. When it was dark he returned to the house of Biyapri and waited a few minutes. Then he called the princess. "Wait," she said, "for Biyapri is still watching." Hestri stooped down, and fell asleep near Biyapri's house, having first of all tied the bridle of the horse to his girdle. The princess Djouher-Manikam descended from the roof, and mounted the horse while Hestri was yet sleeping. She sat on the horse waiting till Hestri should awake. But an �thiopian robber, who had come to rob the storehouse of Biyapri, saw the horse whose bridle was attached to the belt of Hestri. He unfastened the bridle and led the horse to the middle of the plain. In the mind of the princess it was Hestri who was thus leading the horse. But the moon having risen, the �thiopian saw seated upon the horse a woman of a striking and marvellous beauty. The heart of the �thiopian was filled with joy. He said in his heart: "For a very long time have I been stealing riches. Truly, I have acquired no small store of jewels, pearls, precious stones, gold and silver, and magnificent vestments of all sorts. But all that is nothing in comparison with the marvel I have just now found and who will become my wife, the light of my eyes, and the fruit of my heart. Now shall I enjoy in peace the happiness of having such a wife." The house of the �thiopian robber was seated on the top of a hill. He conducted the princess thither, showed her all it contained, and gave it to her, saying: "O my future bride, it is to you that all which this house contains belongs. Make use of it according to your good pleasure." The princess said, "First of all, be tranquil." And she thought in her heart: "This is my destiny. First I was with Biyapri, and now I have fallen into the hands of an Aethiopian robber. It is by the will of God that this has happened to his servant." The �thiopian robber was bent on having the marriage celebrated at once, but the princess said: "I cannot be married now, for I have made a vow to God the most high not to see the face of a man for three days." The �thiopian robber desired to drink, and said: "Come, let us drink together." "In my opinion," observed the princess, "if we begin to drink both together you will become heavy with wine, and I, too. Then they will take me far from you and kill you. Come, I will fill your cup and you shall drink first. When you have drunk enough, then I will drink in my turn, and you shall fill my cup." The �thiopian robber was very joyful at these words of the princess. "What you say is true," said he. He received with great pleasure the cup from the hands of the princess and drank. After emptying the cup many times he fell down in the stupor of intoxication, losing his senses and becoming like a dead man. The princess Djouher-Manikam put on a magnificent costume of a man, and adding a weapon something like a _kandjar_, went out of the house. Then mounting her horse she rode forward quickly and came to the foot of the hill. She directed her course toward the country of Roum, and continuing her journey from forest to forest, and from plain to plain, she reached the gate of the fortifications of the city of Roum at the moment when the King of that country had just died. When the princess Djouher-Manikam had arrived outside the fortifications of Roum, she sat down in the _baley, near the fort. She was marvellously beautiful, and her vestments, all sparkling with gold, were adorned with precious stones, pearls, and rubies. A man happening to pass by saw her, and was seized with astonishment and admiration. For in the country of Roum there was nobody who could compare with this young man, so handsome and so magnificently attired. He asked: "Whence come you and why did you come here?" The princess answered: "I know not the place where I am at this moment. I came from the city of Damas." This citizen of Roum took leave and went away to present himself to the vezir and tell what he had seen. The vezir, having heard him, went out promptly to find the young man. As soon as he had approached him and had seen his remarkable beauty and his splendid vestments decorated with precious stones, pearls, and rubies, the vezir seated himself by him and said: "Young man, whence do you come, and why did you come to this land?" The princess answered: "I wish to travel through the world for my pleasure. That is my will." The vezir replied: "Would you like to have us make you King of this country?" The princess replied: "For what reason should I wish to be king in this country? And by what means could it be achieved?" The vezir replied: "Our King is dead." "Is there no child?" asked the princess. "The King has left a child," answered the vezir, "but he is still very little, and incapable of governing his subjects. That is why we will make you King of this country." The princess Djouher-Manikam answered: "Why not? What prevents? If you all will follow my counsel I will accept the throne of this country." The ministers said, "And why should we not follow the commands of my lord?" The vezir conducted her to the palace. All the ministers of state and the high officers assembled to proclaim as their king the princess Djouher-Manikam. That done, the princess took the name of Radja Chah Djouhou. After reigning some time her spirit of justice and her perfect equity in the government of her subjects rendered her name celebrated in all the foreign countries. Radja Chah Djouhou said to her minister: "O minister, have built for me a _baley_ outside the fort." And the ministers and the officers commanded them in haste to construct the _baley_. As soon as it was built they came to announce it to the King. The latter said: "O my vezir, is there in my kingdom a man who knows how to paint?" "Yes, my lord, king of the world, there is a very skilful painter here." "Let him come to me." "Immediately, my lord," said the vezir, and he ordered a slave to go and summon the painter. The painter came in all haste and entered the presence of Radja Chah Djouhou, bowing his head to the floor. The prince said to him: "O painter, have you a daughter who knows how to paint?" The painter answered: "Yes, my lord, king of the world, I have a daughter very skilful in the art of painting." "Tell your child to come here." The painter bowed again and went to find his daughter. "O my child," he said, "the fruit of my heart, come, the King calls you." Then the painter's daughter quickly set out, accompanied by her father. They together entered the presence of the King, who was still surrounded by his ministers and his officers. The painter and his daughter bowed their heads to the floor. The prince said: "Painter, is this your daughter?" "O my lord, king of the world, yes, this is my daughter." "Come with me into the interior of the palace." And at the same time the prince started and entered his apartments, followed by the daughter of the painter. He led the way to a retired place, and said: "My daughter, make my portrait, I pray you, and try to have the resemblance good." Then the princess Djouher-Manikam clothed herself in woman's raiment, and in this costume she was ravishingly beautiful. That done, she commanded the artist to paint her thus. She succeeded perfectly and the portrait was a remarkable likeness, for the daughter of the painter was very skilful. When her work was finished she received a large sum in gold. The prince said to her: "Come, sister, let this remain a secret. Reveal it not to anyone in the world. If you tell it I will slay you, with your father and your mother." The daughter of the painter said: "O my lord, king of the world, how could your servant disobey your Majesty's commands?" She bowed low, and asked permission to go home. Radja Chah Djouhou, in the presence of his ministers and his subjects, said to the vizier: "O vizier, place this portrait in the _baley_ outside the fort, and have it guarded by forty men. If anyone coming to this portrait begins to weep or kiss it, seize him and bring him before me." The portrait hung in the _baley_, and the vezir ordered an officer to guard it with forty soldiers. When the �thiopian robber came out of his drunken slumber he saw that the princess Djouher-Manikam was no longer in his house. So he went out-of-doors weeping, and took up his journey, going from country to country until he arrived at the city of Roum. There he saw a _baley_, and hanging there a portrait which bore a perfect resemblance to the princess Djouher-Manikam. Quickly he climbed to the _baley_, and, holding the portrait in his arms, he wept and covered it with kisses. "O unhappy man that I am! Here is the portrait of my well-beloved for whom I was seeking. Where can she be?" The guards of the _baley_, seeing the act of the �thiopian, seized him and bore him before the King. They told the deed. The prince said: "�thiopian robber, why did you act thus in reference to this picture?" The �thiopian answered: "O my lord, king of the world, I ask you a thousand and a thousand pardons. Your servant will tell the truth. If they kill me I shall die; if they hang me I shall be lifted very high; if they sell me I shall be carried very far away. O king of the world, hear the words of your humble slave. A certain night I had started out to rob. I found a horse, and on its back there was a woman of the most marvellous beauty. I took her to my house. I fell asleep in my cups. My beloved one disappeared. I became mad, and so it is, O king of the world, that your slave came to the fort and saw the portrait hanging at the _baley_. This portrait is the faithful picture of my well-beloved. That is why I weep." The prince said: "O my vezir, let this man be carefully guarded. Treat him well and give him plenty to eat." On the other hand, Biyapri, after forty days, mounting the roof, saw that the princess Djouher was no longer there. He became mad, abandoned his house and all his wealth, and, becoming a dervish, went from country to country seeking the princess Djouher-Manikam, without ever finding her. Coming to the country of Roum he saw the _baley_ situated outside the fort, and stopped there. Then he saw the portrait, and, observing it with the closest attention, he began to weep. Then he took it in his arms and covered it with kisses. "Alas, my well-beloved!" he cried, "here indeed is your picture, but where can I find you?" He was immediately seized by the guard and led before the King of Roum. "Biyapri," said the prince, "whence do you come, and why did you act thus?" Biyapri answered: "O my lord, king of the world, your slave asks pardon a thousand and a thousand times. I will tell the whole truth. If they kill me, I shall die; if they hang me, I shall be lifted very high; if they sell me, I shall be taken very far away. When I was engaged in commerce I passed under a tree, and saw that in this tree there was a woman of the most marvellous beauty. I took her and carried her to the city of Bassrah and installed her on the roof of my storehouse. A certain night she disappeared without my knowing where she had gone. Then, O king of the world, I became as one mad and left my native land. Arriving at the country of Roum I saw a _baley_ outside the fort and came to sit down there. Then, my lord, I saw the portrait hanging at the _baley_. It exactly resembles my beloved, whom I lost. I pressed it in my arms and covered it with kisses. Such is the truth, O king of the world." The prince then said to his minister: "O minister, let this man be carefully guarded and give him food and clothes." The King of Damas, after abdicating the throne, had left his kingdom, and in the costume of a dervish had started to travel through the different countries. Arriving at Roum, the King Chah Djouhou saw a _baley_ situated outside of the fort, and went to sit down near it. The prince looking closely at the portrait, which was exactly like the princess Djouher-Manikam, burst into a flood of tears and exclaimed: "Alas! Fruit of my heart, my well-beloved, light of my eyes! It is, indeed, your picture. But you, whom I seek, oh, where are you?" Speaking thus, the prince took the portrait in his arms and covered it with kisses. Seeing this, the guards of the _baley_ seized him and carried him before the King. The King said to him: "My lord, whence do you come? How have you wandered into this country? And why did you behave thus about my portrait?" The King Chah Djouhou answered: "Know that my wife, who is named the princess Djouher-Manikam, has disappeared far from me. It is for that reason that I have left my kingdom, and that I, dressed as a dervish, have walked from country to country, from plain to plain, from village to village, seeking her whom I have never been able to find. But arriving in your Majesty's country I saw hanging at the _baley_ that portrait, which is of a striking resemblance to my wife. It is for this reason that I wept in contemplating this picture." The princess smiled, and at the same time her heart was softened at seeing the conduct of her husband. She said to her prime minister: "O my minister, I confide this person to your care. Treat him worthily, give him the best of food and a suite of attendants. He is the King of Damas." The minister therefore, by command of the princess, departed and conducted the King of Damas to a fine house, furnished and equipped according to the needs of kings. The minister took all the riches which had been intended as presents for the King Haroun-er-Raschid. The ingots of gold and of silver, the rich garments in fine stuffs of the country of Rouzoungga, as well as the vestments of the princess Djouher-Manikam and of her three children, were transported and sold in the city of Bagdad. But the King Haroun-er-Raschid, seeing that his name and that of his daughter, the princess Djouher-Manikam, were graven on these ingots of gold and silver, seized all these riches. The minister of the country of Damas said, "These riches are mine." On his side the King Haroun-er-Raschid said: "These riches are mine, for my name and that of my child are engraved on these ingots of gold and silver." The minister said, "Since your Majesty declares that these treasures are yours, we must try this case in a court of justice." The King of Bagdad answered: "It is well. We will go wherever you wish." "Very well," said the minister; "let us go then before the King of the country of Roum. That prince has the reputation of being extremely just. Each of us shall plead his cause." The prince answered: "It is well." The minister replied: "O king of the world, let us start without delay." So the King Haroun-er-Raschid set out with his son Min-bah-Chahaz, his chief warrior, and his soldiers. The cadi accompanied the prince. On his side, the minister of the country of Damas started, accompanied by his three sons and forty soldiers of the country of Damas. After proceeding some time, they arrived at the city of Roum and entered the fortifications. Each one of them presented himself before the King and pleaded his cause. The King Haroun-er-Raschid expressed himself as follows: "O king of the world! I present myself before your Majesty to ask your impartial judgment. The minister of the country of Damas brought to Bagdad, among other precious objects, ingots of gold and ingots of silver, on which are engraved my name and that of my daughter, the princess Djouher- Manikam. I seized these, and come to your Majesty to decide my claim to them." The King of Roum said: "If it pleases God the most high, this affair shall be judged with the best of my powers." The King of Roum continued: "My officers and you, my ministers and chiefs, seek all the divine inspiration to decide the difference existing between the King of Bagdad and the minister of Damas." The officers bowed low and said: "O my lord, king of the world, whatever they may be, we shall put the commands of your Majesty above our heads and shall carry them out to the letter." And they deliberated on the character of the dispute. The King of Bagdad declared: "These objects are precious to me, for they bear engraven upon them the names of myself and my child." On the other hand, and at the same time, the minister Damas declared, "These precious objects are mine." The ministers and chiefs were very much embarrassed, and said to the King: "O king of the world, we, all of us, are unable to judge this dispute. It is too difficult for us. Only the impartial judgment of your Majesty can decide it." The prince said: "It is well. I will pronounce sentence, if it please God the most high, provided that you consent to accept it." The King of Bagdad answered: "O king of the world, judge between us according to your impartial justice." The King of Roum then said: "O minister of Damas, and you, King of Bagdad, is it the wish of both of you that I should give judgment according to the judgment of God the most high?" And they both answered: "That is what we ask, the judgment of God." The prince replied: "If you consent on both sides, it is well." "I consent to it," said the minister of Damas. "And I, too," said the King of Bagdad. The King of Roum then spoke in these terms: "In conformity with the law of the most high God, I ask this question of the King of Bagdad: Have you a daughter?" The King of Bagdad replied: "Yes, king of the world, I have a daughter and a son." "And have you at present these two children?" The King of Bagdad answered: "I have my son, but my daughter--I lost her." The King of Roum, continuing, said: "What is the cause of the loss of your daughter?" The King of Bagdad answered: "O king of the world, hear my story. While I was gone on a pilgrimage with my wife and my son, whose name is Minbah-Chahaz, I left my daughter to watch over my palace. Arriving at the end of my pilgrimage, I sent home a letter to the cadi, conceived as follows: 'May peace be with the cadi: I shall wait still for the grand pilgrimage about a year longer. As for all that concerns my kingdom, my palace, and my daughter, the princess Djouher-Manikam, watch with greatest care, and beware of any negligence in the protection of my kingdom and my child.' Some time later the cadi sent me a letter at Mecca, couched in these words: 'O king of the world, your servant has received the command to watch over the palace and the princess. But the princess now desires to marry me.' After I had read the letter from the cadi I called my son Minbah-Chahaz, and said to him: 'Start at once for Bagdad, and slay your sister.' My son Minbah-Chahaz started immediately for Bagdad, and killed his sister. Then he returned and found me at Mecca. His cutlass was still blood- stained. Then I cried: 'Praise be to God the Lord of the universe, our shame is effaced.' Such is my story, O king of the world." The King of Roum said: "It is well. Now I shall pronounce judgment." And addressing the minister of Damas he said to him: "O minister of Damas, tell me the truth if you wish that at the day of judgment the prophet should intercede for you (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him!). Speak and tell the truth. Say whence come these riches, in order that I may pronounce my judgment between you." The minister of the King of Damas said: "O my lord, king of the world, I will lay at the foot of your Majesty's throne the completed story from the beginning. I received a mission from the King Chah Djouhou: 'O my minister,' he said, 'start, I send you to the city of Bagdad, taking my three children to their grandfather, and my wife, the princess Djouher-Manikam, to her mother and her father, the King Haroun-er- Raschid.' I set out, therefore, with the escort which accompanied the princess Djouher-Manikam, and we arrived at our first halting-place. When it was night I erected a tent, and the people of the escort all put up tents around that of the princess. But Satan breathed into my heart a temptation. This thought came to me: 'The wife of the King is wonderfully beautiful, and she has such a pretty name! I will go and ask her to marry me.' So I entered her tent. At that moment she was seated by her sleeping children, occupied in keeping away the mosquitoes. The princess demanded, 'O my minister, why do you come here?' And I answered, 'I have come to ask you to marry me.' The princess said: 'Have you no fear of God the most high? No, I cannot marry you. What would become of me if I should do such a thing?' Then I said, 'If you will not agree to marry me, I will kill one of your children.' The princess answered: 'If you kill my child it will be by the judgment of God, and what can I do but to invoke his name?' Then I killed one of the children. When he was dead I asked again if she would marry me, and I killed another of the children. When this one was dead I asked the same question. The princess answered, 'I cannot marry when I am already married.' I said to her, 'If you will not, then I will kill the third of your children.' The princess Djouher-Manikam answered, 'If you kill my third child, it will be by the judgment of God, and what can I do but invoke his name, for I am only a woman?' So I killed the third child. After the death of this last child of the King, I put again my question to the princess. She would not consent to marry me. I said to her, 'If you don't, I will kill you.' She answered: 'If you kill me, it is the decree of God. But wait awhile, for I wish to wash my garments and cleanse the traces of my children's blood from my body.' I said, 'It is well. We will have the wedding-feast to- morrow.' She left the tent. It was raining in torrents. I could not discover where she went. Such is my story, O king of the world." The King said, "Minister of the country of Damas, have you any sons?" He answered, "Yes, my lord, king of the world, I have three sons." The prince said: "Let your three sons come here, in order that I may give judgment quickly, according to the law instituted by the prophet (may the peace and blessings of God be upon him!). Behold what his law prescribes: The minister killed the children of the princess Djouher- Manikam. It is not, therefore, the minister who should be punished with death, but his children should be slain. The execution of this judgment will be the just application of the law of retaliation between the minister and the princess." The minister summoned his three sons. As soon as they had come, he pointed them to the King of Roum. The latter said to his minister, "O minister, where is the �thiopian whom they brought here?" The �thiopian robber was brought out, and prostrated himself before the King of Roum. The King of Roum said to him: "�thiopian, return to your own country and change your mode of life. You will never see again the woman for whom you are seeking." And the prince gave him a _keti_ of gold. Then the prince said: "O my minister, where is Biyapri? Let them bring him here." So they brought Biyapri. When he arrived he bowed low before the prince. The prince said: "Biyapri, go back to your own country and change your conduct. The woman whom you seek you will never see again." And the prince made him a gift of two _keti_ of gold. The King of Roum then said: "Let all assemble. I am about to pronounce judgment between the King of Bagdad and the minister of Damas." The minister and the officers assembled therefore in the presence of the King, together with many of his subjects. The King of Roum said: "O my executioner, let the three children of the minister of Damas be all killed; such is the divine command." So the children of the minister of Damas were all three killed. After they were dead the prince said: "Minister, return to the country of Damas, with a rag for your girdle, and during your last days change your conduct. If you do not know it, I am the princess Djouher-Manikam, daughter of the Sultan of Bagdad, wife of Chah Djouhou, my lord, and the sister of Minbah-Chahaz. God has stricken your eyes with blindness on account of your crimes toward me. It is the same with the cadi of the city of Bagdad." The minister of Damas, seized with fear, trembled in all his limbs. He cast himself at the feet of the princess Manikam, and thus prostrated he implored pardon a thousand and a thousand times. Then he returned to Damas all in tears, and overwhelmed with grief at the death of his three sons. The cadi, covered with shame on account of his treachery to the Sultan of Bagdad, fled and expatriated himself. The King of Roum commanded them to bring the King Chah Djouhou and give him a garment all sparkling with gold, and he sent him to dwell in the company of his father-in-law, the Sultan of Bagdad, and his brother-in- law, the prince Minbah-Chahaz. Then the princess Djouher-Manikam retired. She entered the palace and returned clad in the garments of a woman. She then went out, accompanied by ladies of the court, and went to present herself to her father, the Sultan of Bagdad. She bowed before her father, her brother the prince Minbah-Chahaz, and her husband, the King Chah Djouhou. The princess said: "O all of you, lords and warriors of the country of Roum, know that I am a woman, and not a man. Behold my father, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid, King of Bagdad. Behold my brother, whose name is Minbah-Chahaz; and behold my husband, the King Chah Djouhou, who reigns over the country of Damas. From the time when you placed me upon the throne of Roum, if I have committed any fault by error or by ignorance, you must excuse me, for constantly the servants of God commit faults by error or ignorance. It is only God alone who forgets not, nor neglects, and is free from error or ignorance." The grandees of the country of Roum said: "Never has your Majesty committed the least fault, either by ignorance or by error, during the time you have reigned over the country of Roum. Nevertheless, among the judgments just now rendered there was a fault committed by your glorious Majesty. The minister killed, the princess killed, both did it voluntarily. It was a fault of judgment for the princess Djouher- Manikam to have killed the children of the minister, just as the minister committed a fault in killing the children of the princess. There was a likeness there. Still, if it pleases her Majesty to remain upon the throne of Roum, we should all be very glad of it." The princess Djouher said: "I shall take leave of you, my lords. It is good that we should make the young prince king, and that he should replace me on the throne." The ministers and the officers of Roum responded, "Whatever be the commands of your Majesty, we place them above our heads." Then the princess made the royal prince her successor, and the ministers and officers and subjects all bowed low, placed their hands above their heads, and proclaimed him King. The princess Djouher-Manikam said: "O my child, here are the last instructions your mother gives you: You must practise justice so that God will make strong your realm. To you, my ministers and officers, I confide my child. If he commits some faults by negligence or by ignorance, I pray you take them not too much to heart, for my child is young, and he has not yet attained all the maturity of his judgment." The ministers and officers answered: "O your Majesty, may your prosperity grow forever! How could it be possible for us to disobey your commands?" The princess replied: "O my child, above all must you observe justice and be patient and liberal toward your ministers and officers and all your subjects, so that the favors of God may increase upon your person and that your kingdom may be protected by God the most high by the grace of the intercession of the prophet Mahomet, the envoy of God (may the, peace and blessings of God be with him!). O my child, you must govern all your subjects with a spirit of justice, for in this world, until death, we ought to seek the truth. O my child, above all forget not my last instructions." Then, taking in her arms the royal child, she kissed him. The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid having told the Sultan of Roum that he wished to return to the country of Bagdad, the Sultan gave orders to his ministers to assemble the grandees, the officers, and the soldiers, with elephants, horses, and instruments of music. All came with presents, for the Sultan of Roum wished to accompany the Sultan Haroun- er-Raschid as far as Bagdad and carry him the presents. The favorable moment having arrived, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid departed from Roum, directing his way to the country of Bagdad, from plain to plain, and from halting-place to halting-place. After journeying some time, they rejoicing all the way, they arrived at the country of Bagdad. The ministers, the chiefs, and the soldiers came out to meet the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid, and they entered the palace. Then the Queen hastened to find the Sultan and her daughter, the princess Djouher-Manikam. Meeting her daughter, she pressed her in her arms and covered her with kisses. She said in tears: "Alas, my child! the fruit of my heart! I, your mother thought that she would never see you again." And she covered her body with tears and kisses, while she kept repeating, "Alas, my child! I thought you lost forever." Then the Queen bowed before the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid. Her son, Minbah-Chahaz, then came to bow before his mother, but the latter pressed him in her arms and kissed him. Then her son-in-law, King Chah Djouhou, advanced and bowed before the Queen in his turn. And she pressed him in her arms and kissed him. All were in tears. The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid started for the hall of audience, and gave orders to one of his heralds to assemble his ministers, his warriors, and his subjects. When they were all gathered together the Sultan said: "Now I wish to entertain the ministers, the chiefs, and the officers who escorted us here." When the Sultan had finished entertaining them they desired to take leave and return to the country of Roum. The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid made them gifts of vestments of honor, to each according to his rank. They prostrated themselves at his feet, and then returned in peace to the country of Roum. Afterward, the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid ordered one of his heralds to assemble his ministers, his officers, and his subjects. Once gathered together, the prince said: "O all of you, my ministers and my officers, you must build me a house of baths seven stories high, on the public square of Bagdad." All responded, "O my lord, king of the world, whatever your commands may be, your servants place them above their heads." And all, ministers, officers, and subjects, gave themselves to the work, each of them doing what was directed by the architect. After some time, the palace of baths was finished. It was sumptuously adorned with curtains of silk, canopies, tapestries woven with gold and fringed with pearls. Rugs embroidered with gold were stretched on the different floors, and there was a quantity of torches and lanterns. Then the builders came before the King and said: "O my lord, king of the world, your slaves have finished their work according to the commands of your Majesty." The King Haroun-er-Raschid gave thanks unto God the most high, worthy of all praise, the true Lord who accords to his servants all their needs. Then the festivals began. For forty days and forty nights the bands never stopped playing. There were sports, banquets, amusements of all sorts. They gave themselves noisily to pleasure, because the Sultan was going to proceed to the ceremony of the bath of the two spouses, his children. When the watches were finished and the favorable moment had come, the Sultan was arrayed in a magnificent garment embroidered with gold, while the princess Djouher-Manikam was adorned by her mother with superb veils and vestments trimmed with jewels, with pearls and precious stones of an incomparable richness. The spouses thus adorned, the Sultan made them mount a palanquin. His son, Minbah-Cha-haz, was clad in a splendid costume. The Sultan mounted his horse Sembaran, and his saddle was of carved gold. Surrounded by young princes and lords, by officers of his court and the standards, Haroun-er-Raschid marched at the head. He advanced, followed by princes, ministers, and officers. The wives of the grandees accompanied the Queen with her maids-of-honor, and all the musical instruments gave forth their harmonious sounds. Seven times they made the circuit of the city. When the two spouses had arrived at the foot of the Palace of Baths the Sultan made them ascend. Then came the spouses of the grandees with the Queen, who showered them with rice- powder mixed with amber and musk, and poured on their heads spikenard and _curcuma_ (turmeric). They were both plunged into a bath of rose- water and extracts of all sorts of aromatic flowers, together with water from the sacred fountain of Zemzem. The ceremonies of the bath finished, the two spouses went out of the Palace of Baths and went into the King's palace. On their arrival, they served a repast to the princes, the _orilemas_, the doctors of the law, the priests, the ministers, the officers, the common people, men and women. All without exception took part in the feast. When it was ended one of the doctors of the law recited the prayer asking God for perfect happiness, sheltered from all danger in this life and the next. Then he sprinkled showers of the most charming perfumes. After that the Chah Djouhou went to find the Sultan, and said to him: "O my lord, king of the world, I have to ask your Majesty a favor and pardon. I wish to take leave of your Majesty and return to the country of Damas, for the country of Damas is forsaken, O my lord." The Sultan said, "It is well, my lord. Your country, truly, is separated from its King. If it were not for your kingdom I would wish never to be separated from you, now that I have my daughter back again. But if I am inclined to commit a fault, do not comply with it." Radja Chah Djouhou answered; "Your daughter is like a soul which has entered my body. That is how I feel. But the countless favors of your Majesty to me, I place them above my head." The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid then said to his prime minister: "O my minister, get ready to start 3,000 soldiers and 300 horsemen. And have elephants or horses well equipped to transport my two children, husband and wife." When the escort was ready, then the Sultan commanded them to open the place where his treasures were stored, and forty-four camels were laden with riches, with vestments of woven gold and precious objects such as are found only in the palaces of kings. All these preparations being finished, Radja Chah Djouhou took leave of his father-in-law, his mother-in-law, and his brother-in-law, Minbah- Chahaz. The latter all held in their arms and covered with kisses the princess Djouher-Manikam, as well as Radja Chah Djouhou. He and his brother-in-law Minbah-Chahaz wept as they embraced, and the people of the palace burst into sobs with a noise like that of the waves breaking on the seashore. Finally the princess Djouher and the King Chah Djouhou, after bowing before their father, mother, and brother, set out for the country of Damas, to the imposing sound of all the instruments of music. The Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid and his son, Minbah-Chahaz, conducted them outside of the fortifications. When they were far off, the Sultan went back to his palace, walking sadly with his son, Minbah- Chahaz, and praying God to bless his children. After some time on the journey, the King Chah Djouhou arrived at the country of Damas. The officers and the soldiers sallied from the fortifications of Damas and went to meet the prince. The ministers and the officers bowed low at his feet, all rejoicing over the happy return and perfect health of the King and Queen. The prince entered his palace, and the two spouses lived full of tenderness for each other. I will not prolong this story of the princess Djouher-Manikam, which has become celebrated in all countries to windward and to leeward. I close it here, giving my best wishes to those who shall read or hear it, and particularly to those who shall copy it! MAKOTA RADJA-RADJA; OR, THE CROWN OF KINGS [_Translated by Aristide Marre and C. C. Starkweather_] Kings who are of the true faith, who have wisdom and follow justice, cause men worthy of their confidence to travel through their kingdom, to serve as their eyes and ears, and to make reports on the state and condition of their subjects, so that, knowing the cause, they may examine for themselves the conduct of the servants of God. But there are kings who do not rest contented with the report of their servants, and go themselves by night to see the condition and hear the complaints of subjects. Then they make by day a thorough examination of the matters thus come to their knowledge, in order to regulate them with justice and equity. A story will illustrate this. Zeyd Ibries Selam tells what follows: The prince of the believers, the Caliph Omar (may God be satisfied with him!), judged the servants of God with equity during the day, and after pronouncing his judgments he went out of the city on the side toward the cemetery called Bakia-el-Gharkada. There he cut stone to gain money enough for the maintenance of his house, and when night had come he went through the city to know the good and evil of the servants of God. One night, says Zeyd Ibries Selam, "I accompanied the prince of the believers, Omar. When he was outside of Medina, he perceived a fire in an out-of-the-way place, and turned his steps thither. Scarcely had he arrived when he heard a woman with three children, and the latter were crying. The woman said: 'O God the most high, I beseech thee, make Omar suffer what I am suffering now. He sleeps satiated with food, while I and my children are starving.' The prince of the believers, Omar, hearing these words, went to the woman, and with a salutation said, 'May I approach?' "The woman answered, 'If it be by way of goodness, come.' "He approached her and questioned her about her situation. "The woman said: 'I come from a far place; and as it was dark when I arrived here, I could not enter the city. So I stopped at this place. My children and I are suffering from hunger and we cannot sleep.' "The Caliph inquired, 'What is there in this kettle?' "The woman answered: 'Nothing but water. I put it in the kettle so that the children should imagine that I was cooking rice--perhaps, then, they would go to sleep and stop crying so loudly.' "As soon as Omar had heard these words he returned promptly to the city of Medina. Arriving at a shop where they sold flour, he bought some and put it into a sack. In another shop he bought some meat. Then lifting the sack to his shoulders he carried it out of the city. I said to him: "'O prince of the believers, give me this sack, that I may carry it for you.' "'If you bear the weight of this sack,' said his glorious Majesty to me, 'who will bear the weight of my fault, and who will clear me from the prayer of this woman in the affliction of her heart when she complained to the Lord of my negligence?' "Omar, having said these words, continued to walk in tears until he had come near the woman and her children. Then he gave her the flour and the meat, and they ate till their hunger was appeased. The woman with a satisfied heart cried: "'May God the most high hear my prayer and render you benefits, since you are so full of compassion for the servants of God and are so much better than Omar.' "The Caliph said to her, 'O woman, blame not Omar, for he knew not how you fared.'" There was once a king in the country of Syria named Malik-es-Saleh, very pious and just, and continually preoccupied with the state of his subjects. They say that every night he went to the mosque, cemeteries, and other solitary places, in search of strangers, fakirs, and poor people who had neither home nor family. One night, arriving near a mosque, he heard the voice of a man inside the edifice. He entered and saw a fakir there. He could not see him distinctly, because he was covered with a mat. But he heard him, and this is what he said: "O Lord, if on the judgment-day thou shalt give a place in heaven to kings who are forgetful of the fakirs and the poor, then, O Lord, grant that I may not enter there." Malik-es-Saleh, hearing these words, shed tears. He placed a piece of stuff before the fakir with 100 tahil of silver, and said to him: "O fakir, I have learned from the glorious prophet (may peace be with him!) that fakirs become kings in heaven, after a life of self- sacrifice on earth. Since I am King in this perishable world, I come to you with the weakness of my nature and baseness of my being. I ask you to be at peace with me, and to show yourself compassionate to me when the moment of your glory in heaven shall have arrived." When the Sultan Zayad sat upon the royal throne of Ikak, the country was infested with malefactors, brigands, robbers, assassins, and the like. The compounds were destroyed, the houses pillaged, and the people killed. The inhabitants could not sleep a single night in quiet, nor pass a single day in safety at home. A crowd of people came with their complaints to the Sultan Zayad, saying: "The compounds are destroyed, the houses are pillaged, and the men are killed." All throughout Irak one heard nothing but reports of this kind. One Friday the Sultan went to the mosque to pray. He then shut all the doors and said to the people in the mosque: "O servants of God now present in this mosque, know that a duty is imposed upon me. I must protect my subjects, for I shall have to give an account of my actions on the day of judgment. There are now in this country large numbers of malefactors, and many of my people have been ruined by them. It is my duty to repress these disorders. So, then, listen to what I have to say, and repeat it to those who are not present. I swear to you that all who shall, three days from now, leave his house after the hour of evening prayer, shall be put to death." When the three days had passed and the fourth night arrived, Sultan Zayad mounted his horse and traversed the city with an escort of cavaliers. Outside of the city he came to a place and saw a man standing under a tree in the middle of a flock of sheep and goats. He said to him, "Who are you?" The man said: "I come from a far-off village, and I am bringing sheep and goats to the city to sell them, and with their price to buy what I can for my wife and children. When arrived at this place I was so tired that I could not enter the city, and was obliged to stay here, with the intention of entering at daybreak and selling my sheep and goats." Sultan Zayad, having heard this response, said: "Your words are true, but what can I do? If I do not put you to death to-morrow, when the news spreads, they will say Sultan Zayad is not faithful to his word. They will regard me with disdain, and no one will obey my orders. And the wicked ones will commit violent acts upon the good ones, and my country will be ruined. Heaven is better for you than this world." So he had him put to death and ordered that they should take his head. During that same night all that he met were killed and beheaded. They say that in the course of that first day 500 persons were put to death. At dawn he had all these heads exposed on the highways, and published this proclamation: "Whosoever shall not obey the commands of Sultan Zayad shall suffer the same fate." When the people of the country saw these heads exposed at all sides on the earth, they were frightened, and a respectful fear of Sultan Zayad filled all hearts. The second night Sultan Zayad went out again from the city, and that night 500 persons were killed. The third night he remained out of the city till morning, but he did not meet a soul. The following Friday Sultan Zayad went to the mosque, said his prayers, and declared: "O servants of God, let no one after to-day shut the door of his house nor his shop. I take upon myself the charge of replacing those of your goods which shall be destroyed or stolen." They all obeyed his orders, for they feared him greatly. Their doors remained opened for several nights, and they never suffered the slightest loss. But after a while a man complained to the Sultan, saying, "Last night someone stole from me 400 tahil." The Sultan said: "Can you swear to it?" The man swore to the facts, and the Sultan had 400 tahil counted out to him in place of those he had lost. The following Friday, after prayers, forbidding anyone to leave the mosque, the Sultan said: "O servants of the Lord, know that 400 tahil have been stolen from the shop of a certain man. Unless you denounce the robber, not one of you shall escape, but to-day shall all of you be put to death." Now, as he had rigorously commanded attendance at Friday's prayer service, the whole town had come to the mosque. They were seized with fright, for they knew that the Sultan kept his word, and they denounced the robber. The latter gave back the 400 tahil and received his punishment. A long time afterward the Sultan Zayad asked, "At what place in my kingdom do they fear robbers most of all?" "In the Valley of the Beni Ardou, in the country of Bassrah, for there they are numerous." Sultan Zayad one day had the highways and paths of the valley strewn with gold and silver, precious stones, and stuffs of great price. All these things lay there a long time and not one was taken. Then the Sultan ordered them to take up these riches and give them to the fakirs and the poor. Then he rendered thanks unto God that he had thus securely established his law among his subjects. Now it was in the times when Nouchirvau governed with justice and equity, protecting his subjects and causing his kingdom to prosper. One day he asked the grandees of his court, "Are there in my kingdom any places deserted and without inhabitants?" The grandees who were there answered, "O king of the world, we know not in all your Majesty's realm a place which is not inhabited." Nouchirvau kept silence, and for many days did not leave the palace. He summoned to his private chamber a learned doctor named Bouzor Djambour, and said to him: "I desire to know with certainty if all parts of my realm are peopled, or if there is any which is not. How can I be sure of this?" "To have your Majesty's desire fully satisfied you have only to abstain from leaving the palace." Saying this, Bouzor Djambour took leave of the King and went to the audience-chamber of the King. He spoke to those assembled there as follows: "O ministers, generals, and all present, know that his Majesty is ill. Now, in order to cure him you must find for me a little bit of earth from a place in ruins and uninhabited. Those who are faithful servants of the King will not hesitate to accomplish immediately this act of devotion in his service, and to start at once in search of the remedy I have named." These words were scarcely uttered when men were sent out to search the towns and villages and find some earth from a place in ruins and uninhabited. They found only one house in ruins, and the governor of the town said as follows about it: "A merchant once established in this dwelling. He died and left much wealth. As none of his heirs came forward, we closed the doors with stones and mortar, waiting for them to arrive. So the house has fallen to ruin." Then the people took a little earth from beneath the house and took it to the King, telling him what had happened. Then the King called an assembly and said: "Know all that my illness proceeded only from my fear that there might be in my kingdom a house in ruins. Now that it has been shown to me that there exists in my whole realm not a single place in ruins, but that the country is well populated, my malady is cured, seeing that my kingdom is in a perfect condition." In the time of Nouchirvau a man sold his compound to another man. The buyer of this property, while engaged in making repairs, found in the earth many jars filled with gold which someone had buried there. He went immediately to the one who sold him the premises and told him the news. The seller said: "That gold is not mine, for I did not put it in the ground. I sold you the compound; the discovery that you have made is yours." The buyer replied: "I bought the premises alone, I did not buy gold; so it is yours." As each refused to take the treasure, they went to the King Nouchirvau and recounted the affair to him, saying, "This gold should be the property of the King." But King Nouchirvau would not take the gold. He asked the two men if they had children. They replied, "Yes, my lord, we have each a child, a boy and a girl." "Well," said the King, "marry the girl to the boy, and give them the gold you found." In ancient times a King of China fell ill and as a result of his malady he lost his hearing. He wept in sorrow over this affliction and grew very thin and pale. His ministers came one day and asked him to tell them in writing his condition. He answered: "I am not ill, but so weakened by my inquietude and distress that I can no longer hear the words of my subjects when they come to make their complaints. I know not how to act not to be guilty of negligence in the government of my kingdom." The ministers then said: "If the ears of your Majesty do not hear, our ears shall replace those of the King, and we can carry to his Majesty the complaints and regrets of his subjects. Why, then, should his Majesty be so much disturbed over the weakening of his physical forces?" The King of China answered: "At the day of judgment it is I, and not my ministers, who will have to render account of the affairs of my subjects. I must therefore myself examine into their complaints and troubles. I am sure that the burden of ruling would be lighter for me if I could have tranquillity of spirit. But my eyes can see, although my ears are deaf." And he commanded them to publish this edict: "All who are victims of injustice must reduce their complaints to writing, and bring them to the King so that he may look into their troubles." They tell also the following story: There was formerly in the city of Ispahan, a king whose power and glory had filled him with pride. He commanded his ministers to build him a palace in a certain place. The ministers, with the architects, ordered the slaves to level the ground so as to form a vast esplanade and cause to disappear all the houses of the neighborhood. Among these houses, they say, there was one belonging to an old woman who was very poor and without a family to help her. In spite of her great age, she went to work as well as she could, in different places, but could scarcely exist on her earnings. Her house near the site selected for the new palace was old and in a tumble-down condition. They tell that one day having gone a long distance to find work she fell ill and remained a long time without being able to return to her house. Then the architects who were building the palace said, "We must not let this hovel remain standing so near the King's palace." So they razed the hut and levelled the earth, and finished the palace with all sorts of embellishments. The King, taking possession, gave a grand house-warming festival. Now on this very day it so happened that the old woman returned home. Arriving she could find no traces of her house, and was stupefied. In one hand she held a stick, in the other some dry wood for her fire. On her back she bore a package of rice and herbs for cooking. She was fatigued with a long journey and faint with hunger. When she saw that her house had disappeared she knew not what to do nor where to go. She burst into tears. The servants of the King drove her away, and as she went, she fell and spilled her rice and herbs and fell down in the mud. In this state of indescribable desolation she exclaimed, "O Lord, avenge me on these tyrants!" The old woman had hardly ceased speaking when the voice of some unseen being was heard above her saying, "O woman, fly quickly from this spot, for the anger of God is advancing upon the King." In horror she got up and fled in all haste. Again she heard the voice saying, "O woman, look behind you at the palace." She looked behind her and saw the palace, the King, and all his ministers and servants engulfed in the bowels of the earth by the will of God. And to this day that place vomits fire and smoke as a mark and a warning. In the Kitab Tarykh it is told that in ancient times under the kings of Persia named Moah, who followed the rules of justice, men were happy. But after these kings, Izdegherd-ibn-Chahryar reigned over Persia. By his harsh tyranny he destroyed the high reputation of the kings of Persia and wretchedly closed a series of reigns lasting 4,000 years and noted all over the world for justice and equity. Under the rule of this miserable tyrant countless numbers of men perished and a great many prosperous and famous cities were devastated. All the better classes of citizens were plunged into the most frightful distress and the most lamentable desolation, and it would be impossible to tell how great and wide-spread was the mourning. Now while all were groaning in affliction the King made merry. One day in his presumptuous pride he assembled his ministers and his generals to show his royal power and his domination over the people. He was seated on his throne, surrounded by a crowd of courtiers, when suddenly a beautiful horse crossing the city at a gallop went straight into the palace of the King, among the ministers and the grandees. They all admired the beautiful horse, the like of which none had ever seen. Nobody dared to seize him as he pranced from right to left. Suddenly the horse approached the throne and laid down at the feet of the King. The King patted and stroked him, and the horse never moved. Then the wicked King began to laugh and said: "O my ministers, you see how far my greatness goes. It is only at my throne that this wonderful horse has stopped. I will mount and ride him on the esplanade." The King ordered a saddle brought, and was placing it on the horse with his own hands, when he received such a kick over the heart that he was immediately killed. Then the wonderful horse vanished, and no one saw where it went. The people all rejoiced and said, "Of a truth, this mysterious horse was one of the angels of God sent to exterminate a tyrant." It was in the time of this King, and by his tyranny, that the kingdom of the sovereign of Persia was ruled and fell into the hands of another people. King Khochtacab, the most celebrated of all the kings of his time, by his power, greatness, and magnificence, had raised in rank a man named Rassat Rouchin, a name which in Persia signifies "sincere and brilliant." Influenced by this fine name, the King forgot all prudence, and without any proof of his capacity he raised this man to power and made him minister, turning over to him the care of the most important affairs in his kingdom and giving him all his confidence. His ostensible conduct was irreproachable, and his acts had for everybody the appearance of honesty and truth. One day the minister Rassat Rouchin said to the King: "The people, on account of our leniency and goodness, are forgetting their duty, and are showing no more deference nor respect We must inspire them with fear, or affairs will not prosper." The King in his blind confidence responded, "Do whatever you think is right." As soon as the minister had come from the palace of the King he addressed a proclamation to the towns and villages in which he said: "His Majesty is irritated with his subjects. You must all come with presents to appease his anger." From all sides arrived princes and ministers and grandees of the realm, with precious and magnificent objects. Seized with fear they sought counsel of the minister Rassat Rouchin. "How," said they, "dare we present ourselves before his Majesty in his present state of anger against us?" Then the minister responded: "If the instant of death is not yet come for you, I will try to save you. I tremble to admit you to the King. But what can I do? On account of the critical situation I will go alone before the King and present your case." So every day he conducted them only as far as the door of the King. There they were told of the fines to which they had been condemned. He took in this way what they had, and sent them home. This sort of thing continued for a long while until the means of the people were exhausted and the treasury became absolutely empty. The King, always full of confidence in the uprightness of the minister, was in complete ignorance of all this. But at that time there was a king who was an enemy of King Khochtacab. When he learned that the subjects of the latter were suffering cruelly from the oppression of his minister and that his generals were weakened by hunger, he took heart and invaded the kingdom. Then King Khochtacab commanded that his treasury should be opened, and that they should take out all the wealth to gratify the army, gain the hearts of the generals, and defray the expenses of the war. But he found that there was nothing left in the treasury. The army, weakened, was incapable of resisting. The King, shut up in his fort, found it impossible to attack the enemy, and they ravaged and despoiled the kingdom. The King, having been considered so great, was cruelly wounded by shame at his defeat. He knew not which way to turn his steps. His soul was profoundly troubled. One day, when he had gone forth from the city, wandering at random through plain and forest, he saw a shepherd's hut in the distance, at the door of which were two dogs hanging by the neck. Seeing the King, the shepherd approached and led him to his hovel and served him with the best food he could afford. But the King said: "I shall not eat until you have told me why you have hanged these two dogs at your cabin-door." The shepherd responded: "O king of the world, I hanged these two dogs because they betrayed my flock. As my flock was wasting away, I hid one day to see what took place. The wolf came and the dogs played with him and let him carry off sheep and goats. So I hanged the two dogs as faithless traitors." The King returned to the city and thought over this singular story. "It is a lesson for me," he said, "a revelation. It is impossible not to see that my subjects are the flock and I am the shepherd, while my minister has acted like the shepherd's dogs, and the enemy who has my kingdom is the wolf. I must examine into the conduct of my minister and see with what fidelity he has served me." When he had returned to the palace he called his secretaries and bade them bring the registers in which the accounts of the kingdom were kept. When these registers were opened he saw that they mentioned only the name of the minister Rassat Rouchin, and included such statements as: "Intercession of Rassat Rouchin in favor of princes so and so, ministers such and such, and grandees this and that, who ask pardon for their faults. Rassat Rouchin took their treasures and granted them grace." There was nothing else in the registers. When the King saw this he said: "Who rests his faith upon a name goes often without bread, While he who faithless proves for bread shall lose his soul instead." These words the King had engraved in letters of gold and fastened to the gate. And at this gate he had the false minister hanged as the dogs were hanged at the cabin-door. A King of Persia, in a fit of anger against his wife for a certain fault which she had committed, commanded his prime minister to put her to death, together with her nursing infant. The minister, on account of the furious anger of the King, did not dare to plead the Queen's cause, but took her to his mother's house. The minister found another woman who had been condemned to death and had her executed, telling the King that it was the Queen who was beheaded. The King's child grew and nourished until he had become a handsome young man. But the King grew more and more morose and melancholy, and shut himself up in the palace. The minister, noticing this continual sadness of the King, said: "O king of the world, what has come over the heart of your Majesty? Pray tell me the cause of your sorrow." And the King said: "O minister, how should I not be sad and disturbed? Here I am getting old and I have no son to cause my name to live and protect my kingdom. That is the cause of my sorrow and unhappiness." When the minister heard these words he said, "O king of the world, your sorrow shall not long endure, for you have a son, capable of preserving and protecting your kingdom. This son of yours has intelligence, education, natural gifts, and great personal beauty, and is of most excellent character." The King said, "Where is this son of whose existence I have been unaware?" The minister answered, "Your Majesty is not aware of his existence, but I know that he is very much alive." The minister then related how he had spared the lives of the Queen and her child. The King was transported with joy, and cried, "Happy the king who has such a minister!" The minister bowed low and said, "When shall your son, the prince, present himself?" The King answered: "Go seek forty young men of his age, build, figure, and complexion. Have them all dressed alike. Bring these forty young men with my son to a certain place in the plain. Await me there, but tell not this secret to a soul. When I have arrived at the spot then cause these forty young men to present themselves before me. If my son is among them I shall most certainly recognize him." The minister took leave of the King, and with a heart filled with joy set about doing what the King had ordered. When the King had arrived at the spot chosen his minister advanced, followed by forty-one youths, all dressed alike. As soon as the King had seen them he recognized his son and called him to his side. Then he went back to the city with him and all the grandees. The next day he invited the latter to a great festival, and gave to each of them a splendid present. He turned over his kingdom to his son, taking care to place him and his government under the tutelage of the good minister who had saved his wife and brought him up. Then the King went into a religious retreat, and as long as he lived occupied himself in the service of God. The Sultan Alexander, called the Two-Horned, at the beginning of his reign sent an ambassador to King Darius, who was then at the zenith of his greatness. On his return, this ambassador made his report to King Alexander. The latter read it, but had doubts over a certain word therein contained. He questioned his ambassador about the word, saying, "Did you hear that exact word from the mouth of King Darius?" The ambassador replied, "I heard it with my own ears." King Alexander, not being able to believe it, wrote a second letter, mentioning this word, and despatched to King Darius another ambassador, charged to deliver it. When King Darius, reading the letter of King Alexander, came to this special word, he took a knife and cut it out, then wrote a letter to King Alexander, in which he said: "The sincerity of the soul of the King is the foundation of his realm and his greatness. His words, therefore, should be faithfully transmitted and reproduced by his ambassador. I have cut out of your letter a certain word, because it was never pronounced by me. And if your former ambassador were only here I would cut out his lying tongue even as I have cut out the word from your letter." When this answer of King Darius's was borne to King Alexander he read it and summoned before him the faithless ambassador. "Why," said he, "were you willing, with a word, to cause the loss of many men and countries?" "Because they showed me little deference and did not treat me well." King Alexander said: "Foolish man! And you thought that we sent you to look after your own personal interests, and neglect those of the nation?" He commanded that his tongue should be torn out, and made a proclamation, saying, "This is the fate of traitors who falsely report the words of kings." In the Kitab Tarykh the following is recounted: The Sultan Homayoun sent an ambassador to the King of Khorassan. When this ambassador, on his arrival in the country, had delivered the letter of the Sultan to the King, the latter asked: "How does your King conduct himself regarding his subjects? How does he govern them?" "The rule of conduct and the mode of government used by my King," answered the ambassador, "are to make himself loved by all his subjects." The King asked, "Of what nature is the affection of your King for his subjects?" "That of a mother and father for their children and grandchildren." "In hard and calamitous times, how does your King conduct himself?" "He shows that he cares not for riches, for the door of his treasury is always open." "In the daily receptions how does your King behave?" "The receptions of my King resemble the gardens of Paradise refreshed by sweet breezes and scented with the balmy breath of sweetly smelling plants or like a sea filled with pearls and corals." The King asked again, "And in council how speaks your King?" The ambassador answered, "All those who hear my King in council become wise if they lack wisdom, and brave if they lack courage." The King of Khorassan was enchanted with the answers of the ambassador, loaded him with presents, and said to him: "The spirit and judgment of your King are reflected in the person of his ambassador. They should all be like you." And he addressed in answer to the Sultan a letter filled with compliments and felicitations. In the Kitab Tarykh it is related that the Sultan Mahmoud was fond of his servant Ayaz on account of the excellence of his wit and judgment. The other servants of the Sultan were jealous of Ayaz, and murmured against him. One day the ministers and grandees were in the presence of the Sultan Mahmoud, and Ayaz was standing respectfully before him. Someone brought a cucumber as a present to the Sultan. The Sultan sliced it and ate a morsel. He found it very bitter, but gave no sign of this. He handed a piece of it to Ayaz, saying, "Eat some of this cucumber and tell me how it tastes, so that the others present may eat some of it also, and tell us if they ever ate anything like it." Ayaz saluted, and ate of the cucumber with an appearance of pleasure. "It is very good." The King made the others eat of it. They found that it was bitter, and were angry with Ayaz, and asked how he dare to lie in such a manner. "It is true," said the Sultan; "how could you say it was good?" Ayaz answered with respect: "May the Lord bless the king of the world! How many favors have you given me! How many sweet and savory dainties! How, then, could I make a wry face over one bitter morsel? I ought, on the contrary, to declare that the bitterness of this mouthful is completely annulled by the delicious sweetness of the others, so that your Majesty shall continue to bestow dainties upon me as before." A certain king, vain of his royal power, had a servant who was very pious and a true believer, very punctilious in the practice of his religious duties. The King distinguished him above all the others as one in whom he could trust on account of the integrity of his heart. He had given him this order: "Go not far away from here, day or night. Keep close watch, and neglect not my service." The servant, after finishing his religious duties, took his post, where the King from time to time sent for him. But the King had need of him, and he was not to be found. They sent to look for him, but in vain, and the King grew very angry with him. Finally the servant arrived and prostrated himself before the King. The latter, full of wrath, demanded: "Why are you late? Why don't you pay attention to my orders?" And he commanded that the man be punished, to make him more attentive to the King's service. But the servant replied, "If I am late, it is only on account of the great embarrassment in which I find myself placed." "What embarrassment? Tell me." The servant, bowing low, spoke as follows: "My embarrassment comes from the fact that I have two masters to serve. The first is the true Master, he who created the universe and the children of Adam, whose punishments are very severe. The second is only the servant of the former, and not the true master. I am obliged to attend to the service of the true Master before the service of the second. That is the embarrassment in which I find myself." When the King heard these words he shed abundant tears, and said: "From this day forth you are free. Follow the service of the Lord, and do not forget to pray for me." The servants of the King should love their King more than they love their own life, their mother, their father, their children, their grandchildren, their family, their riches, and all that belongs to them. In a word, for them the person of their King should be above all, so that one may call them true servants of the King, and that in all truth they may be termed his favorites. They tell the story that one day the Sultan Mahmoud Ghazi (may grace be upon him!) was seated on his throne, surrounded by his ministers and his officers, among whom was Ayaz. The Sultan said to his treasurer: "Go to the treasure-chamber. Take to a certain place gold, silver, precious stones, and other objects of great value. For we are going there to amuse ourselves, and present these treasures to those who shall accompany us." One day the Sultan started to go and amuse himself at that place, and as soon as the news spread abroad, a great number of people followed him there. When he arrived he halted at a spot level, clean, and well lighted, and said to his treasurer: "Expose my treasures here, in this place, so that all those who are happy shall obtain a present according to their degree of happiness, and that one may know who are those who have the most luck and those who have the least." All hearing these words quickly approached, pressing forward, with their eyes wide open and their looks fixed on the treasurer, praying him to exhibit the presents at the designated place. At this very moment the Sultan spurred his horse to a gallop and rode from their presence. When he was far away and out of their sight, he stopped and looked behind him. There he saw Ayaz, the only one who had followed him. The others, preoccupied with getting their share of the treasures, never suspected that the Sultan had gone and was already far away from them. The Sultan, halting a moment, returned to the city. On their side, the ministers and the grandees, having taken possession of the most precious objects, returned joyfully to their homes. On the way they compared notes with each other about their shares of the treasure. One said, "I had the best luck"; and another, "No, I had the best." And all, whoever they were, said the same thing, for all except Ayaz had their share of the King's presents. So they said among themselves, "It is clear that the one who has no luck is Ayaz." Some jealous ones added: "In truth, Master Ayaz has no luck at all. By his lack of intelligence and good judgment he has had none of the Sultan's presents." Ayaz heard all these remarks, but kept silence. Some days later, the Sultan came out of his palace and sat upon the throne. All the grandees came into his presence. Ayaz was standing before him. The Sultan asked: "Who among you had no luck?" The ministers answered: "It is Ayaz! He did not get a single one of your Majesty's many presents. It is clear that he has no luck, for he left all those precious objects and came back with empty hands." The Sultan said: "O Ayaz, are our presents without value in your eyes, that you disdain them? I don't know why you took nothing that was within your grasp. You would have prevented them from saying that you have no luck. What was your motive in doing a thing that has the approbation of nobody?" Ayaz responded: "May the days and prosperity of the King increase! May the presents never tarnish that he has given to his servants. As for me, I have more luck than those who received the presents of your Majesty." The Sultan said, "O Ayaz, prove to me the truth of your words." Ayaz responded: "If they found some part in the largesses which were given them, I found the author himself of those great gifts. If they found gold, I found the master of the gold. If others found silver, I found the master of silver. If others found precious stones, I found the master of precious stones. If others yet found some pearls, I found the ocean of pearls. Who, therefore, O king of the world, among all those who vaunt themselves as having luck, has more than I have?" The Sultan replied: "O Ayaz, tell me what is the meaning of your words. Where is all that which you say you found?" Ayaz responded: "May the most high protect the person of the king of the world, more precious to me than all those objects of price! In whatever place may be his august person, there I am, and I thus obtain all that my heart desires. When I am with your Majesty, and your Majesty is with me, what do I lack? Who, then, has more luck than I have?" One day the Sultan Alexander was plunged in sadness, and kept himself shut up in his palace. The wise Aristotle came before him, and seeing him absorbed in sad thoughts, asked him: "Why is the Sultan so sad and what keeps him from going out of his palace?" The Sultan Alexander answered: "I am grieving at the thought of the smallness of this world, and of all the troubles I am giving myself and others for the sake of reigning over a world that is so little worth. It is the vanity of my works that renders me sad." Aristotle replied: "The reflection of the Sultan is just, for what, in truth, is the world? Certainly it has not enough importance by itself that the Sultan should occupy himself with a vain kingdom. But the government of this world is a mark of the sublime and eternal kingdom of the other world, and this kingdom the Sultan can obtain by governing this present world with justice. Your Majesty must therefore give all his cares to the government of this world, to obtain finally in the other world a kingdom of which the greatness is beyond measure and the duration is eternal." The Sultan Alexander heard with pleasure the words of his wise counsellor. Two qualities are essential to kings, generosity and magnanimity. When a minister remarks, in his king, sentiments unworthy of his rank, he should warn him of the fact, and should turn him from unworthy actions. They tell that a king, having made a gift of 500 dirhems, his minister said to him: "I have heard from the mouth of wise men that it is not permitted to kings to make a present of less than 1,000 dirhems!" One day Haroun-er-Raschid made a gift of 500 tahil. His minister, named Yahya, made by signs and by gestures every effort to prevent him from doing this. When all those who had been present were gone, Haroun-er- Raschid said: "O Yahya! what were you trying to do with all your signs?" The latter replied: "O prince of true believers! I was trying to say that kings should never let it be seen that they are capable of making presents of less than 1,000 dirhems." One day King Mamoun-er-Raschid heard his minister, named Abbas, say to a servant, "Go to the bazaar and buy something with this half-tahil." Mamoun-er-Raschid was angry with him and said: "You are capable of dividing a tahil in two! That is not proper in a minister; you are not worthy of the name," and he forthwith deposed him from office. In the Kitab Sifat-el-Molouk it is related that the King Chabour, giving his last instructions to his son, said as follows: "O my son! whenever you make a present to anyone, do not bestow it with your own hands. Do not even examine or have brought into your own presence the gifts that you make. Whenever you give a present, see that it be at least the equivalent of the revenue of a town in value, so that it will enrich the recipients, and make them and their children and grandchildren free from adversity. Furthermore, my child, beware all your life of giving yourself up to operations of commerce in your kingdom. For this kind of affairs is unworthy a king who has greatness of character, prosperity, and birth." King Harmuz received one day a letter from his minister in which he said: "Many merchants being in town with a great quantity of jewels, pearls, hyacinths, rubies, diamonds, and other precious stones, I bought all they had for your Majesty, paying 200,000 tahil. Immediately afterward there arrived some merchants from another country who wanted to buy these and offered me a profit of 200,000 tahil. If the King consents I will sell the jewels, and later buy others." King Harmuz wrote to his minister the following response: "What are 200,000 tahil? What are 400,000 tahil, profit included? Is that worth talking about and making so much ado? If you are going into the operations of commerce who will look after the government? If you buy and sell, what will become of the merchants? It is evident that you would destroy thus our good renown, and that you are the enemy of the merchants of our kingdom, for your designs would ruin them. Your sentiments are unworthy a minister." And for this he removed him from office. In the Kitab Sifat-el-Houkama it is said: "There is a great diversity of inclinations among men. Everyone has his own propensity. One is borne naturally toward riches, another toward patience and resignation, another toward study and good works. And in this world the humors of men are so varied that they all differ in nature. Among this infinite variety of dispositions of soul, that which best suits kings and ministers is greatness of character, for that quality is the ornament of royalty. "One day the minister of the Sultan Haroun-er-Raschid was returning from the council of state to his house when he was approached by a beggar who said: 'O Yahya! misery brings me to you. I pray you give me something.' "When Yahya had arrived at his house he made the beggar sit down at the door, and calling an attendant said to him: 'Every day give this man 1,000 dinars, and for his food give him his part in the provisions consumed in your house.' "They say that for a month the beggar came every day and sat at Yahya's door, and received the sum of 1,000 dinars. When he had received them at the end of the month, 30,000 dinars, the beggar went away. When informed of his departure, Yahya said: 'By the Lord! if he had not gone away, and had come to my door for the rest of his life, I should have given him the same daily ration.'" In the Kitab Tarykh the following is told: "There was once upon a time a Persian king named Khrosrou, remarkable among all the kings of Persia for his power, his greatness of character, his goodness, and the purity of his morals. His wife, named Chirine, was of a rare beauty, and no one at that time could be compared to her, for she possessed all the virtues. Khrosrou passionately loved Chirine, and among the books, famous in the world, which speak of loving couples, there is one called 'Khrosrou and Chirine.' One day Khrosrou was seated in the palace with his wife Chirine, when a fisherman brought in a fine fish as a present to Khrosrou. The latter ordered them to give him a present of 4,000 dirhems. "'You are wrong,' said Chirine. "'And why?' asked the King. "'If, in the future, you made one of your servants a present of 4,000 dirhems he will not fail to say forthwith, "I am considered as the equal of a fisherman." If your present is less than 4,000 dirhems, then necessarily he will say, "I am considered as being less than a fisherman," and your actions will sadden his heart.'" "Khrosrou said: 'Your observation is just. But I have spoken, and I cannot reverse what I have said, for it is shameful for a king to fail in keeping his word.' "Chirine replied, 'Never mind, I know a way, and no one can say that you broke your promise.' "'What is this way?' asked Khrosrou. "Chirine answered: 'Put this question to the fisherman, "Is this a fresh-water or a salt-water fish?" "'If he answers, "It is a fresh-water fish," say, "I want a salt-water one," and the contrary. Then he will go away and you will be released from your foolish promise.'" "Khrosrou, who by love of Chirine could not help hearing her advice and following it, put the question to the fisherman. But the latter, suspecting a trap, said, 'It is both.' King Khrosrou began to laugh, and gave him 4,000 dirhems in addition. "The fisherman, having received his 8,000 dirhems, put them in a sack and went away. On the journey, a dirhem fell to the ground, and the fisherman, lowering his sack, began to search for the dirhem that had fallen. When he found it, he placed it with the others and took up his march again. "Khrosrou and Chirine had both been witnesses of his action. Chirine said to Khrosrou: 'Behold the baseness and the lack of judgment of the fisherman. He wearied himself to hunt for one dirhem when he had a sack full of them. Recall him and do him shame.' "Khrosrou, who from his love for Chirine was incapable of resisting her words, and always obeyed them, recalled the fisherman and said to him: 'Of a truth, you have a low soul, and possess neither judgment nor dignity. What! One of your 8,000 dirhems was lost and you deferred your journey until you had found it? That shows the baseness of your soul and your lack of judgment.' "The fisherman made obeisance and answered: 'May the prosperity of the king of the world increase! I sought not the dirhem on account of its money value, but only on account of the greatness and importance of the words engraved upon the coin. On one of its sides is written the name of God most high. On the other side is written the name of the King. Had I not found the dirhem, and had left it on the ground, then people passing would have trodden upon it, and the two names inscribed upon it, and which ought to be glorified by all men, would have been despised and disgraced, and I would have been the accomplice of all the passers-by who trod upon it. That is why I took the trouble to find the dirhem.' "Khrosrou was pleased with this answer and gave him still another 4,000 dirhems. The fisherman, filled with joy, took his 12,000 dirhems and returned to his home." A man had committed a serious offence against King Haroun-er-Raschid. Condemned to death, he succeeded in escaping. But he had a brother. The King summoned the latter and said to him: "Find your brother so that I may kill him. If you do not find him I will kill you in his place." This man not finding his brother, the King Haroun-er-Raschid ordered one of his servants to bring him to be killed. But this servant said: "O prince of believers! if the one who received the command to put this man to death brings him for that purpose and at the same time a messenger comes from your Majesty with an order not to kill him, ought he not to release him?" King Haroun-er-Raschid answered, "He certainly ought to release him, on account of my orders." "O prince of believers," answered the servant, "the Koran says, 'He who has a burden shall not bear another's.'" Then the King said: "Set the man free, for this must cover his case, and means that the innocent should not perish for the guilty." They tell that, a pundit appearing one day before the Sultan Ismail Samani, King of the country of Khorassan, the Sultan received him with great distinction, and at his departure saluted him most respectfully and escorted him to the door, taking seven steps behind him. The next night he dreamed that the glorious prophet (with whom be peace!) spoke thus to him: "O Ismail, because you honored one of my pundits, I will pray God that after you seven of your children and grandchildren shall become great and glorious kings." They say that for many years the kingdom of Khorassan flourished under the paternal government of the successors of this Sultan. The Sultan Abdallah Tlahir, as soon as he had taken possession of the throne of Khorassan, received the homage of a large number of his subjects. At the end of several days he asked, "Is there anyone of distinction in the country who has not come to present himself before me?" They told him, "There are two persons that have not come, one named Ahmed Arab, and the other named Mahomet Islam. But these two men never present themselves before kings and ministers." The Sultan replied, "Since they will not come to find kings and ministers, I must go to them." So one day the Sultan repaired to the house of Ahmed Arab. The latter, immediately arising, remained standing a long time facing the Sultan. Then regarding him fixedly he said to him: "O Sultan, I had heard tell of your beauty, and I now see that they spoke the truth. Make not of that body the embers of hell." Saying this he returned to his prayers. The Sultan Abdallah Tlahir went away from the sheik's house weeping. He then betook himself to the house of Mahomet Islam. At the news that the Sultan was coming to see him, the sheik shut the door of his house, saying: "I ought not to see him. I ought not to speak to him." The Sultan departed in tears and said: "Friday, when the sheik goes to the mosque I will go to him." When Friday came he was on horseback, surrounded by soldiers, awaiting the arrival of the sheik. As soon as he perceived him, he dismounted, approached him on foot, and saluted him. The sheik asked: "Who are you? What do you want of me?" The Sultan answered: "It is I, Abdallah Tlahir. I have come to see the sheik." The latter, turning away his face, said to the Sultan, "What connection is there between you and me?" The Sultan fell at the feet of the sheik, in tears, in the middle of the highway, and, invoking God the most high, spoke as follows, "O Lord, forgive my faults, on account of the many virtues of this faithful sheik." And he was forgiven and became a good man. The imam El-Chafei (may mercy be with him!), going from the city of Jerusalem to the country of Egypt, halted in a town called Ramla. One of the inhabitants of this town took him into his house and entertained him with many attentions. The companions of the imam El-Chafei perceived that he felt a certain inquietude, but none of them knew the reason for it. The more the master of the house showered his attentions and civilities, the more disturbed the imam seemed to be. Finally at the moment when the imam was mounting his horse to continue his journey, the master of the house arrived and put a writing into his hands. On reading this, the imam lost his worried air, and, giving orders to pay the man thirty dinars, he went on his way rejoicing. One of his companions asked him: "Why were you so disturbed? What did the writing say? And why did you show so much joy in reading it?" The imam El-Chafei answered: "When our host took us to his house I noticed that his face lacked the characteristic signs of honesty. But as he treated us so well I began to think perhaps I was mistaken in judging him. But when I read the writing he handed me I saw it was as follows: 'While the imam has been here I have spent on him ten dinars. He ought therefore to pay me back twenty.' So then I knew that I had made no error in reading his character, and was pleased at my skill." The story is told that one day as the prophet Solomon was seated on his royal throne, surrounded by men, spirits, and birds, two women came before him, each claiming possession of a child. These two women kept saying, "It is my child," but neither could give proof. All their arguments amounting to nothing, the prophet Solomon commanded that the child should be cut in two, and that each woman should take half. When the executioner advanced, drawing his sword, one of the women bursting into sobs cried out in anguish: "O Prophet Solomon, don't kill the child. Give it to this woman, it is all I ask!" As the murder of the child never drew a tear nor a movement of anxiety from the other woman, Solomon commanded them to give it to the woman who had wept, because her tears proved her to be the true mother, and that the child belonged to her, and not to the other woman. Thus did King Solomon show his wisdom in judging character. O you who are magnificent! listen, I pray you, and hear to what degree of sublimity generosity is lifted. In the Kitab Adab-is-Selathin it is said that two qualities were given by God in all their perfection to two men--justice to Sultan Nouchirvau, King of Persia, and generosity to a subject of an Arab sultan named Hatim-Thai. The author of that work says that in the time of Hatim-Thai there were three kings celebrated throughout the whole world, and rivals in showing the perfection of generosity--the King of Roum, the King of Syria, and the King of Yemen. But as none of them was as famous as Hatim-Thai, they became jealous of him and united in hostility toward him. They said: "We are the kings of vast countries, and shall we suffer a simple subject of an Arab sultan to be counted as more generous than we are?" And each of these kings thought to try Hatim-Thai and destroy him. The first of the three who attempted the undertaking was the King of Roum. This King said to one of his ministers: "O minister, I hear tell that there is among the Arabs a man named Hatim-Thai, and that he is reputed the most generous man in the world. I am displeased that my name is not as noted for generosity as his. I want to make a proof and see if his fame is true or false. I have heard that Hatim-Thai possesses a horse which he loves as he does his own soul. Well, we will ask him to give us this beloved horse." The minister sent an envoy, with suitable presents and a letter to give to Hatim-Thai. He arrived in a great storm of wind and rain which permitted no one to attend to his affairs abroad. It was already night, and Hatim-Thai had made no preparations to receive a guest, but he received the stranger with the marks of the highest respect and greatest cordiality. "What need brings you here to-night?" he asked. "Nothing but to visit you," replied the envoy, and he never mentioned that evening his mission from the King of Roum. As there was nothing in the house to eat, Hatim-Thai killed his favorite horse and served it for his guest's supper. As soon as it was day, the envoy presented the gifts and the letter from the King of Roum. When he read the passage in the letter where the King asked for the horse which had just been killed, Hatim-Thai turned pale and could not say a word. The envoy, observing him in this state, imagined that he regretted the gift of his horse, and said: "O Hatim-Thai, if it is not with pleasure that you give your horse to my master, think no more about it, and let me return to my country." Hatim-Thai answered: "O envoy of the King of Roum! if I had a thousand horses like that one I should give them all without a moment's hesitation. But last night I asked you the motive which brought you hither, and you said it was merely to visit me. So I killed the horse for your food, and that is why I am afflicted with sorrow at my lack of foresight." He sent the envoy back home with many other horses as a gift. The envoy told the whole story and the King of Roum said: "The renown of Hatim-Thai is deserved; he is the most generous of men." He made an alliance of friendship with him, and the fame of Hatim-Thai grew apace. The second one who tested Hatim-Thai's generosity was the King of Syria. He said: "How can Hatim-Thai, who lives in the woods and the plains, occupied in pasturing goats, camels, and horses, be more generous than so great a King as I? I will put him to the proof. I will ask rich presents that he cannot give, and he will be shamed and humiliated before kings and peoples." So the King of Syria sent an envoy to Hatim-Thai to ask for 100 red camels with long manes, black eyes, and very tall. Camels of this sort are hard to find, only kings having four or five. When the envoy had arrived he told Hatim-Thai what the King of Syria asked of him. Hatim- Thai was full of joy hearing the words of the envoy, and hastened to regale him bountifully with food and drink. Then he searched among his camels, but found none such as the King of Syria desired. He ordered search to be made among the peoples of his nation, Arabs and Bedouins, offering a large price. By the will of God a Bedouin succeeded in finding 100, and Hatim-Thai asked only the delay of one month in payment. The envoy returned home with the red camels and many other presents. Seeing them, the King of Syria was struck with astonishment and cried: "Behold, we wished only to test Hatim-Thai, and now he has gone into debt to satisfy our desire. Yes, truly he is the most generous man in the world." He commanded them to send back to Hatim-Thai the 100 red camels loaded with magnificent presents. As soon as they arrived, Hatim-Thai summoned the owner and gave him the camels with all their burden of riches, without keeping anything for himself. When the envoy, returning home again, recounted all these things, the King of Syria marvelled and exclaimed: "No one can equal Hatim-Thai. He is generosity itself, in all its perfection." The third king, that is, the King of Yemen, was very generous, and wanted no one to rival him in this particular. So when he heard of the fame of Hatim-Thai for generosity, he was vexed and full of sorrow. He said: "How can that poor Hatim equal in generosity a great king like me? I give alms to the poor, I feed them, and every day I give them clothing. How is it possible that anyone can dare to mention the name of Hatim-Thai in my presence as the most generous of men?" Now, at that time an ambassador of the King of Maghreb arrived at the Court of the King of Yemen, who spoke of the wonderful generosity of Hatim-Thai. He felt as if his heart was burning, but did not let his grief appear, and said to himself: "Everybody repeats the praises of Hatim, one after another, without knowing exactly who he is, of what birth, and what are the means which permit him thus to give hospitality. I shall cause him to perish." The King of Yemen summoned a Bedouin, a bandit celebrated for his ferocity, without pity for the life of a man. The Bedouin arrived, and the King gave him gold, silver, and clothing. "O Bedouin," he said to him, "if you will perform an affair for us, we will give you whatever you ask." The Bedouin answered: "O my lord, king of the world, what is your Majesty's will?" The King of Yemen replied: "There is a man named Hatim-Thai, of the tribe of Thai, on the confines of Syria. Go to this country, and employ all the tricks you can to kill him. When you have killed him bring me his head. If you succeed in doing as I wish, whatever you ask, it shall be given you." These words of the King filled with joy the Bedouin's heart. He said to himself: "Here is a good piece of work. For an old tattered cloak I will kill a man. Why then should I hesitate a moment for a superb cloak of scarlet?" Taking leave of the King, the Bedouin set out promptly and went toward Syria in search of Hatim-Thai. After a while he arrived at a village near to Syria, and there he met a young man of a rare beauty. His face bore the marks of virtue, his language was full of sweetness and affability, his soul was righteous, and his heart compassionate. He asked the Bedouin where he was going. The latter answered, "I am from the country of Yemen, and am going to Syria." The young man replied: "O my brother! I wish you would do me the favor to rest for a day and a night in my house, and I will do the best to entertain you. After that you shall go on your journey when you wish." The Bedouin heard these words with pleasure, and went into the young man's house. There he was treated magnificently and regaled so lavishly that he thought he had never seen and eaten so much. He slept peacefully all night. At dawn he said farewell, eager to gain the end of his journey. The young man said to him: "O my brother, if it is possible, stay two or three days longer, I beg you, so that by my hospitality I may show all the sincere affection that my heart feels for you." The Bedouin replied: "O my brother, truly would I remain some time longer here, had I not a most important and delicate mission to fulfil. It is impossible for me to stay and enjoy myself here, while I have not yet accomplished my errand." The young man answered: "O my brother, what is this difficult and delicate affair which prevents you from staying here? If you will tell me, doubtless I shall find some means of coming to your aid, and lightening the burden which weighs so heavily upon your heart. But, now, what can I do since you tell me nothing?" Hearing these words, the Bedouin kept silence. He said to himself: "This affair is not easy to execute. It might be of use for me to have a prudent and discreet companion to confer with him about it. Perhaps I should do well to talk of it to this young man and ask his advice." And nevertheless he dared not yet trust his secret, and his perplexity was written on his countenance. He could not utter a single word, and remained very anxious. The young man observing the state of the Bedouin said to him: "O servant of God, your embarrassment is evident; you fear to open your heart to me. God alone, in truth, knows the secrets of his servants. But, in your present situation, it may be that I can be of some benefit to you." The Bedouin, hearing these words of the young man, said to him: "O my loyal friend, know then that I am an Arab-Bedouin of the country of Yemen; that of all the Bedouins of Arabia there is not one so wicked nor so great a thief as I, and that my fame as a bandit is celebrated throughout all Yemen. The King, having resolved upon a wicked deed, ordered his minister to find a man capable of performing it. As I had the reputation of being the greatest bandit of the country of Yemen, I was summoned to the presence of the King. As soon as his Majesty saw me he loaded me with presents and said: 'If you do as I wish I will give you many more presents of gold and silver and other magnificent things.' I replied, 'O my lord, king of the world, what is this affair?' 'You must go and kill a man named Hatim-Thai, who lives on the confines of Syria.' To this I replied: 'O my lord, king of the world, I am only a Bedouin, a poor robber, wandering in the forests and the plains. For drink I have but the brackish water of the marshes. For food I have only rats and locusts.' On account of my wretchedness, I obeyed the wishes of the King, and promised to execute this affair. But here I am, in a very embarrassing situation, for I do not know this Hatim-Thai, and I don't even know where his tribe is, the Ben-Thai." The young man, hearing these words, began to laugh, and said: "O my brother, be not disturbed. I know this Hatim-Thai, and I will show him to you." These words rejoiced the Bedouin. The young man continued: "O my brother, know that the tribe of Ben-Thai inhabit this village, and that the man named Hatim-Thai is himself in this tribe. If you will follow exactly what I indicate to you, you will certainly accomplish your mission." The Bedouin answered: "O my brother, I place my life in your hands. What must be done?" The young man answered: "O my brother, there is a place where Hatim- Thai goes for recreation. It is an extremely deserted place, which no one ever visits. When he gets there he eats, drinks, and then he sleeps, his head covered with a cloth, and his horse tied near by. You will arrive at that moment, you will promptly execute the wish of the King, you will jump upon the horse and dash away from this place and go wherever you like." The young man went then to show the place to the Bedouin, and giving him a poniard with two edges well sharpened, he said: "O my brother, to-morrow Hatim-Thai will come to this spot. Forget nothing that you have to do." All the instruction of the young man were followed by the Bedouin. Early in the morning Hatim-Thai repaired to the designated place. He ate, he drank, and when he had finished his repast he tied his horse near by. Then, covering his head with a cloth, he fell fast asleep. At this very moment the wicked Bedouin arrived. By the will of God, just as he was about to assassinate the young man, a thought came into his heart. "Hatim-Thai is celebrated throughout the whole world for his generosity and his benevolence. Before I kill him, while he is still alive, I want to see his face." And he raised the cloth that covered his head. At the sight of the countenance of the sleeping young man he fell at his feet and covered them with kisses, saying: "O my friend! What have you done? You ought not to act thus!" Hearing these words of the Bedouin, the young man said: "What could I do? For the one called Hatim-Thai is I. The head that the King of Yemen wants is mine. What other means could I employ?" He conducted the Bedouin to his house, regaled him again, and gave him all he needed. Then the Bedouin took leave and returned to his country. As soon as he arrived in Yemen, he went before the King and recounted all the circumstances relative to Hatim-Thai. Having heard the story the King shed tears, and said: "Of a truth, Hatim-Thai is liberal, benevolent, and noble, brave and generous." Afterward the King of Yemen made a friendship with Hatim-Thai that lasted as long as his life. When the Sultan Yakoub invaded Khorassan and besieged the capital, the Sultan Mahomet, shut up in the city, made such a strong resistance that for a long time it was impossible to capture the place. But his ministers betrayed him by sending to Sultan Yakoub letters which showed how it might be taken. One only of these ministers, named Ibrahim Hadjib, abstained from sending any traitorous letters, and remained faithful to his master. After a while the city was taken and Sultan Yakoub ascended the throne. Then all the most important people of the country came to pay homage to him. The ministers who had betrayed the former Sultan were conspicuous in their demonstrations of joy. The Sultan Yakoub gave a pleasant reception to those who came, and made them suitable gifts. After this he asked, "Who has not come to present himself before me on this day of rejoicing?" The ministers immediately answered, "Ibrahim Hadjib is the only one who has not come to present his congratulations." Then the Sultan asked, "Why has he not done so? Is he ill?" "No," they answered, "he is not ill." The Sultan summoned Ibrahim Hadjib, and the latter came into the royal presence. The Sultan, observing on his countenance evident marks of care and sorrow, spoke thus to him: "Ibrahim Hadjib, are you the minister in whom the Sultan Mahomet placed his confidence?" He replied in the affirmative. "From what motive, Ibrahim Hadjib, did you keep silence, and send me no word of advice while the ministers of Sultan Mahomet, now here, sent many letters to show me how to capture the city? Why did you refrain from appearing before me at court to-day, at the same time with the ministers and grandees? Why, now that you are here, are you the only one to wear a sad and mournful appearance and a long face, while all the others show their joy? To all these questions you must truthfully respond. And if you speak not the truth you shall be put to death." "If the Sultan wishes to hear the language of truth and will not be vexed by it, I will reply to each of his questions. To the first question, why I sent no letter betraying my King, I will say: Know, Sultan, that the Sultan Mahomet was the King of this country; that he gave me many presents and had full confidence in me, thinking that in the moment of danger I would be his companion and his counsellor. How could I, then, betray him? I knew you not, and had received no benefits from you. Would it have been just for me to send you letters and cause the fall of one who had been so bountiful to me?" "Your words are just and true," said the Sultan Yakoub. Ibrahim Hadjib continued: "As to the question why I abstained from presenting myself at court to-day, and why I wore so sorrowful a face, I answer: Know that I could not present myself before the Sultan, because he was the enemy of my master and benefactor, and brought about the ruin of my lord. That is why I wore a sad face in your presence. Beside, the children and grandchildren of my lord are plunged in grief and anxiety, and how could I be happy in your presence, like these hypocrites, who are very different elsewhere? I have told the truth." When the Sultan Yakoub had heard these words of Ibrahim Hadjib, he cried: "God be praised! Up to this time I have heard tell of ministers, I have seen many kinds, but never have I seen nor heard of a minister like this one. Now, only for the first time have I seen a true minister and listened to the words of truth." The Sultan Yakoub loaded Ibrahim Hadjib with favors, made him prime minister, and gave him the name of father. As for the other ministers, he caused them to perish, with their whole families. Then he published this proclamation: "Behold the fate of those who are faithless to their promises and commit treason toward their King, for they cannot be counted as men." 
45933	----	(http://www.freeliterature.org) from page mages generously made available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the lovely original illustrations, many of which are in color. See 45933-h.htm or 45933-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45933/45933-h/45933-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45933/45933-h.zip) Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive. See https://archive.org/details/romancesofoldjap00ozak ROMANCES OF OLD JAPAN Rendered into English from Japanese Sources by MADAME YUKIO OZAKI Brentano's New York 1920 [Illustration: brentano] [Illustration: What was his breathless amazement to see that the picture he so much admired had actually taken life ... and was gliding lightly towards him--see here.] CONTENTS THE QUEST OF THE SWORD THE TRAGEDY OF KESA GOZEN THE SPIRIT OF THE LANTERN THE REINCARNATION OF TAMA THE LADY OF THE PICTURE URASATO, OR THE CROW OF DAWN TSUBOSAKA LOYAL, EVEN UNTO DEATH; OR THE SUGAWARA TRAGEDY HOW KINU RETURNED FROM THE GRAVE A CHERRY-FLOWER IDYLL THE BADGER-HAUNTED TEMPLE ILLUSTRATIONS What was his breathless amazement to see that the picture he so much admired had actually taken life ... and was gliding lightly towards him _Frontispiece_ Mortally wounded, both men fell to the ground, and so fatal had been Jurobei's thrusts that in a few minutes they breathed their last The unhappy mother sadly followed with her eyes the pathetic little figure disappearing on her unknown path Gunbei had watched the execution of his cruel order from the veranda Yendo draws his sword, when between him and the victim of his vengeance there darts the lovely Kesa Wataru little dreams that it is the last cup his wife will ever drink with him To his unspeakable horror and amazement the moonlight reveals the head of Kesa--his love! His grandfather had been a retainer of Ota Dokan ... and had committed suicide when his lord fell in battle He glared fiercely at the apparition, and then, half unconsciously, turned for the _samurai's_ only safeguard, his sword Tama's father was delighted when Hayashi proved to be an expert at _go_, and often asked him to come and spend the evening He was suddenly startled to see a girlish form coming towards him in the wavering shadows Hayashi visits the temple where his lost love was buried and dedicates his whole life to praying for the repose of her soul "When I was eighteen years of age, bandits ... made a raid on our village and ... carried me away" When the bride was led into the room and seated opposite Toshika, what was his bewildering delight to see that she was ... the lady-love of his picture Urasato's escape from the Yamana-Ya As she spoke, Urasato leaned far out over the balcony, the picture of youth, grace and beauty O Tatsu ... took her stand behind Urasato, and with deft fingers put the disordered coiffure to rights Sawaichi, turning his sightless face towards the altar, repeated the Buddhist invocation: "_Namu Amida Butsu!_" There in the grey light of the breaking dawn, she could see the lifeless form of her husband stretched upon the ground "Listen, Sawaichi!" said the Heavenly Voice, "Through the faith of your wife and the merits of her accumulated prayers, your lives shall be prolonged" "This is the head of Kanshusai, the son of the Lord Sugawara!" The box, which served her as a shield, was speedily cut in two, and there appeared, unfolding and fluttering in the breeze, a little winding-sheet and a sacred banner for the dead "No, no," said Matsuo ... "this is not the body of my boy. We are going to bury our young lord!" From earliest times Kinu and Kunizo were accustomed to play together Her ghastly face and blood-stained garments struck terror to the souls of the petrified spectators Kunizo, almost beside himself with happiness, did his utmost to minister to his beloved lady Suddenly a young girl appeared from the gloom as if by magic! His beautiful hostess, seating herself beside the _koto_, began to sing a wild and beautiful air An old priest suddenly appeared ... staff in hand and clad in ancient and dilapidated garments What was the young man's astonishment to see a pretty young girl standing just within the gate Suddenly he saw that the three performers had become _headless_!... Like children playing a game of ball, they tossed their heads from one to the other In one of the dark corners of the temple-chamber, they came upon the dead body of an old, old badger THE QUEST OF THE SWORD His old widowed mother would not die happy unless he were rehabilitated, and to this end he knew that she and his faithful wife, O Yumi, prayed daily before the family shrine. How often had he racked his brains to find some way by which it were possible to prove his unchanging fidelity to Shusen; for the true big-hearted fellow never resented his punishment, but staunchly believed that the ties which bound him to his lord were in no wise annulled by the separation. At last the long-awaited opportunity had come. In obedience to the mandate of the Shogun Ieyasu that the territorial nobles should reside in his newly established capital of Yedo during six months of the year, the Daimio of Tokushima proceeded to Yedo accompanied by a large retinue of _samurai_, amongst whom were his chief retainers, the rivals Shusen Sakurai and Gunbei Onota. Like a faithful watchdog, alert and anxious, jurobei had followed Shusen at a distance, unwilling to let him out of his sight at this critical time, for Gunbei Onota was the sworn enemy of Shusen Sakurai. Bitter envy of his rival's popularity, and especially of his senior rank in the Daimio's service, had always rankled in the contemptible Gunbei's mind. For years he had planned to supplant him, and Jurobei knew through traitors that the honest vigilance of his master had recently thwarted Gunbei in some of his base schemes, and that the latter had vowed immediate vengeance. Jurobei's soul burned within him as this sequence of thoughts rushed through his brain. The tempest that whirled round him seemed to be in harmony with the emotions that surged in tumult through his heart. More than ever did it devolve on him to see that his master was properly safeguarded. To do this successfully he must once more become his retainer. So Jurobei with vehement resolution clenched his hands over the handle of his umbrella and rushed onwards. Now it happened that same night that Gunbei, in a sudden fit of jealous rage and chagrin, knowing that his rival was on duty at the Daimio's Palace, and that he would probably return alone after night-fall, ordered two of his men to proceed to Shusen's house and to waylay and murder Shusen on his road home. Once and for all he would remove Shusen Sakurai from his path. Meanwhile Jurobei arrived at Shusen's house, and in the heavy gloom collided violently with the two men who were lying in ambush outside the gate. "Stop!" angrily cried the assassins, drawing their swords upon him. Jurobei, recognizing their voices and his quick wit at once grasping the situation, exclaimed: "You are Gunbei's men! Have you come to kill my lord?" "Be assured that that is our intention," replied the confederates. "I pray you to kill me instead of my lord," implored Jurobei. "We have come for your master and we must have his life as well as yours. I have not forgotten how you cut me to pieces seven years ago. I shall enjoy paying back those thrusts with interest," returned one of them sharply. Jurobei prostrated himself in the mud before them. "I care not what death you deal me, so long as you accept my life instead of my lord's. I humbly beg of you to grant my petition." Instead of answering, one of the miscreants contemptuously kicked him as he knelt there. Jurobei, whose ire was now thoroughly provoked, seized the offending leg before its owner had time to withdraw it, and holding it in a clutch like iron, inquired: "Then you do not intend to grant my request?" "Certainly not!" sneered the wretches. Jurobei sprang to his feet and faced them. Without more ado they both set upon him with their weapons. Overhead the storm increased in violence. The floodgates of heaven were opened, peals of heavy thunder shook the earth with their dull reverberations, and the inky skies were riven with blinding flash upon flash of forked lightning, which lit up the dark forms and white faces of the combatants, and glinted on their swords as they parried and clashed together in mortal strife. Now Jurobei was an expert swordsman of unusual and supple strength. He defended himself with skill and ferocity, and soon his superiority began to tell against the craven couple who were attacking him. It was not long before they realized that they were no match for such a powerful adversary, and turned to flee. But Jurobei was too quick for them, and before they could escape he cut them down. Mortally wounded, both men fell to the ground, and so fatal had been Jurobei's thrusts that in a few minutes they breathed their last. By this time, the fury of the storm having spent itself, the sky gradually lifted and the moon shone forth in silver splendour between the masses of clouds as they rolled away, leaving the vast blue vault above clear and radiant and scintillating with stars. Jurobei raised a jubilant face heavenwards and thanked the gods for the victory. He had rescued his master from death. He felt that the sacrifices that he and O Yumi had made in the past--the breaking up of the old home and the parting from their baby-daughter and the old mother--had not been in vain. The prescience, which had warned him that evil was hanging over Shusen, and which had made him so restless and uneasy of late, had been fulfilled, and he had forestalled the dastardly intention of the treacherous Gunbei and his two scoundrels. In the stillness after the tumult of the fray, Jurobei's ear caught the sound of approaching footsteps. Turning in the direction from whence they came, there in the bright moonlight he clearly discerned the form of his beloved master, crossing the bridge. "Oh, my lord! Is it you? Are you safe?" he exclaimed. "Who is it?" demanded the startled _samurai._"Ah--it is Jurobei! What brings you here at this hour?" Then noticing the two lifeless bodies lying across the path, he sharply interrogated, "What does this mean? Has there been a fight? What was the cause of the quarrel?" "They are Gunbei's assassins. They were waiting in ambush for your return, by Gunbei's order. I found them here. They attacked me and I killed them both, the cowards!" Shusen started. An exclamation of dismay escaped him. "It is a pity that you should have killed those particular men at this juncture." He mused for a few seconds, gazing at the dead faces of his would-be murderers. "I knew these rascals. My purpose was to let them go free, and to lure them over to our side: they could soon have been persuaded to confess the crimes of their master." Jurobei realized that he had blundered. Overcome with disappointment, he sank upon the ground in a disconsolate heap. "The intelligence of inferior men cannot be relied upon," said Jurobei with chagrin. "Alas, they unwittingly err in their judgment. I did not give the matter enough consideration. My sole idea was to save your life at all costs, my lord! I have committed a grave error in slaying them. With the intention of tendering abject apologies for my past misconduct, which has lain upon me like a heavy yoke all these years, I came here to-night. I killed these men to save your life--hoping that for this service you would reinstate me. I beg of you to forgive my stupidity." [Illustration: Mortally wounded, both men fell to the ground, and so fatal had been Jurobei's thrusts that in a few minutes they breathed their last.] With these words he drew his sword and was about to plunge it into himself and rashly end his life by _hara-kiri_, by way of expiation. Shusen seized his arm and stopped him in the act. "This is not the time to die! It would be a dog's death to kill yourself here and now. Perform some deed worthy of a _samurai_ and then I will recall you as my retainer. You are a rash man, Jurobei! In future think more before you act." "Oh, my lord, do you really forgive me? Will you indeed spare a life forfeited by many errors committed in your service?" and Jurobei gave a sigh of relief. "Certainly I will," replied Shusen, aware that the affinity existing between lord and retainer is a close relationship not to be lightly severed. "You were about to throw away your life," he continued, "for what you considered a _samurai's_ duty. I commend that, anyhow! I tell you now to wait until you have accomplished some real work in the world. Listen to what I have to say. "From generation to generation the Lords of Tokushima have entrusted to the care of our house one of their most valuable treasures and heirlooms, a talisman of the family, the Kunitsugu sword. At the end of last year we gave a banquet and entertained a large number of friends. While the attention of every one was absorbed in waiting upon the guests, some robber must have entered the house and stolen the sword, for on that night it disappeared. "In my own mind I have strong suspicions as to who the guilty party may be, but as yet there is no proof. While I was pondering in secret over possible ways and means of bringing the theft to light, another complication has arisen. "It has come to my knowledge that Gunbei, our enemy, is organizing a conspiracy to make an attack upon the life of my lord, the Daimio of Tokushima. My whole attention must be concentrated on this plot, to circumvent which requires very subtle and adroit handling, so that it is impossible for me to take any steps in the matter of the sword at the present time. There is no one to whom I can entrust this important mission except yourself, Jurobei. If you have any gratitude for all that I have done for you, then stake your life, your all, in the search for the lost sword. "There is no time to lose! This is January and our Daimio's birthday falls on the third of March. The sword must be laid out in state on that festive occasion in the palace. I shall be disgraced and my house ruined if the sword be not forthcoming that day. My duties at the palace make it impossible for me to undertake the search. Even supposing that I were at liberty to go in quest of the sword, to do so would bring about my undoing, which is just what our enemy Gunbei desires. You are now a _ronin_ [a masterless _samurai_], you have no master, no duty, no appearances to maintain. Your absence from our midst will cause embarrassment to no one. Therefore undertake this mission, I command you, and restore the sword to our house. If your search is crowned with success, I will receive you back into my household, and all shall be as it was between us in former times." With this assurance Sakurai took his own sword from his girdle and handed it to Jurobei as a pledge of the compact between them. Jurobei stretched out both hands, received it with joy, and reverently raised it to his forehead. "Your merciful words touch my heart. Though my body should be broken to pieces I will surely not fail to recover the sword," replied Jurobei. He then began to examine the dead men hoping to find their purses, for in his new-formed resolution he realized the immediate need of money in his search for the lost treasure. "Stop, stop!" rebuked Shusen, "take nothing which does not belong to you, not even a speck of dust." "_Kiritori goto wa bushi no narai_" [Slaughter and robbery are a knight's practice], answered Jurobei, "has been the _samurai's_ motto from ancient times. For the sake of my lord I will stop at nothing. I will even become a robber. In token of my determination, from this hour I change my name Jurobei to Ginjuro. Nothing shall deter me in my search for the sword. To prosecute my search I will enter any houses, however large and grand they may be. Rest assured, my lord. I will be responsible for the finding of the sword." "That is enough," returned his master. "You have taken the lives of these two men--escape before you are seized and delivered up to justice." "I obey, my lord! May all go well with you till I give you a sign that the sword is found." "Yes, yes, have no fear for me. Take care of yourself, Jurobei!" answered Shusen. Jurobei prostrated himself at his master's feet. "Farewell, my lord!" "Farewell!" And Shusen Sakurai and his faithful vassal separated. PART II On the quest of the lost sword Jurobei and his wife left Yedo buoyant with high hope and invincible courage. The sword, however, was not to be found so easily. Jurobei was untiringly and incessantly on the alert, and week followed week in his fruitless search; however, his ardour was unabated, and firm was his resolution not to return until he could restore the missing treasure upon which the future of his master depended. Possessing no means of support, Jurobei became pirate, robber, and impostor by turns, for the _samurai_ of feudal times considered that all means were justified in the cause of loyalty. The obstacles and difficulties that lay in his path, which might well have daunted weaker spirits, merely served to inflame his passion of duty to still greater enthusiasm. After many adventures and hairbreadth escapes from the law, the vicissitudes of his search at last brought him to the town of Naniwa (present Osaka) where he halted for a while and found it convenient to rent a tiny house on the outskirts of the town. Here Jurobei met with a man named Izæmon who belonged to the same clan--one of the retainers of the Daimio of Tokushima and colleague of Shusen Sakurai. Now it happened that an illegitimate half-sister of the Daimio by a serving-woman had sold herself into a house of ill-fame to render assistance to her mother's family which had fallen into a state of great destitution. As proof of her high birth she had in her possession a _Kodzuka_[1] which had been bestowed on her in infancy by her father, the Daimio. Izæmon, aware of her noble parentage, chivalrously followed her, and in order to redeem the unfortunate woman borrowed a sum of money from a man named Butaroku, who had proved to be a hard-hearted wretch, continually persecuting and harassing Izæmon on account of the debt. Jurobei was distressed by Butaroku's treatment of his clansman, and magnanimously undertook to assume all responsibility himself. The day had come when the bond fell due and the money had to be refunded. Jurobei was well aware that before nightfall he must manage by some way or another to obtain the means to satisfy his avaricious creditor or both himself and Izæmon would be made to suffer for the delay. At his wit's end he started out in the early morning, leaving his wife, O Yumi, alone. Shortly after his departure a letter was brought to the house. In those remote days there was, of course, no regular postal service, and only urgent news was transmitted by messengers. The arrival of a letter was, therefore, looked upon as the harbinger of some calamity or as conveying news of great importance. In some trepidation, therefore, O Yumi tore open the communication, only to find that her fears were confirmed. It proved to be a warning from one of Jurobei's followers with the information that the police had discovered the rendezvous of his men--some of whom had been captured while others had managed to escape. The writer, moreover, apprehended that the officers of law were on the track of Jurobei himself, and begged him to lose no time in fleeing to some place of safety. This intelligence sorely troubled O Yumi. "Even though my husband's salary is so trifling yet he is a _samurai_ by birth. The reason why he has fallen so low is because he desires above all things to succeed in restoring the Kunitsugu sword. As a _samurai_ he must be always prepared to sacrifice his life in his master's service if loyalty demands it, but should the misdeeds he has committed during the search be discovered before the sword is found, his long years of fidelity, of exile, of deprivation, of hardship will all have been in vain. It is terrible to contemplate. Not only this, his good qualities will sink into oblivion, and he will be reviled as a robber and a law-breaker even after he is dead. What a deplorable disgrace! He has not done evil because his heart is corrupt--oh, no, no!" Overcome with these sad reflections, she turned to the corner where stood the little shrine dedicated to Kwannon, the Goddess of Mercy and Compassion, and sinking upon her knees she prayed with the earnestness of a last hope, that the holy Kwannon would preserve her husband's life until his mission should be accomplished and the sword safely returned to its princely owner. As she was kneeling before the shrine there floated into the room from outside the sound of a pilgrim's song chanted in a child's sweet treble. _Fudaraku ya!_ _Kishi utsu nami ya_ _Mi Kumano no_ _Nachi no oyama ni_ _Hibiku takitsuse_. Goddess of Mercy, hail! I call and lo! The beat of surf on shore Suffers a heaven-change To the great cataract's roar On Nachi's holy range In hallowed Kumano.[2] O Yumi arose from her knees and went out to ascertain who the singer could be. A little girl about nine years of age was standing in the porch. On her shoulders was strapped a pilgrim's pack. Again she sang: _Furusato wo_ _Harubaru, kokoni_ _kii--Miedera_ _Hana no Miyako mo_ _Chikaku naruran_. From home and birth Far ways of earth Forwandered here Kii's holy place A sojourn's space Receives me, ere Anon thy bowers, City of Flowers,[3] (Life's goal) draw near. When she saw that some one had appeared, her song ceased, and she plaintively added: "Be kind enough to give alms to a poor little pilgrim." "My pretty little pilgrim," answered O Yumi, "I will gladly give you some alms," and placing a few coins in a fold of paper she handed it out to her. "I thank you from my heart!" responded the child in grateful accents. By the manner in which these words were uttered, and in spite of the travel-stained dress and the dust of the road, it was apparent to O Yumi that the little girl before her was no common beggar, but a beautiful and well-born child. Naturally of a fair complexion, her eyes were clear and bright, her dishevelled hair was long and jet black. The hardships of the pilgrimage had left their mark upon the child, she was thin and seemed so weary, that it filled the heart with pity. O Yumi found her thoughts carried back to the infant she had been compelled to leave behind in the old home seven long years before, when she and Jurobei had followed their lord Shusen Sakurai to Yedo. For some inexplicable reason she felt strangely touched by the plight of the little girl before her, and reflected sadly that her own child--so far away, and deprived at such an early age of her mother's love and care--would now be somewhat of the same age and size as the little pilgrim. "Dear child," said O Yumi, "I suppose you are travelling with your parents. Tell me what province you came from?" "My native province is Tokushima of Awa," was the reply. "What?" exclaimed O Yumi. "Did you say Tokushima? That is where I was born, too! My heart thrills at hearing the beloved name of the place of my birth. And so you are making a pilgrimage with your parents?" The woman's question was a reasonable one, for a Buddhist pilgrim wanders around from temple to temple all over the country to worship the founder of their faith and patron saints, and it was most unlikely that a child of such tender years should set out alone upon so long and arduous a journey. It was, indeed, a great distance from Tokushima, in the Island of Shikoku, to the town of Naniwa. But the little girl shook her head and answered in forlorn accents: "No, no. I have not seen my parents for seven years. I have left my home in Awa and come upon this long pilgrimage entirely in the hope of finding them." On hearing these words O Yumi became agitated in mind. Perchance this child might prove to be her own daughter! Drawing near the little pilgrim and scanning her features eagerly, she asked: "Why do you go on this pilgrimage to seek your parents? Tell me their names?" "When I was only two years of age my parents left our native place. I have been brought up entirely by my grandmother. For several months now we have had no news of them, since they followed our lord to Yedo; they seem to have left Yedo, but no one knew whither they went. I am wandering in search of them: my one wish being to look upon their faces if but once again in this life. My father's name is Jurobei of Awa and my mother is called O Yumi." "What? Your father is Jurobei and your mother O Yumi?" stammered out the astonished parent, greatly taken aback by this statement. "And they parted from you when you were two years of age, and you were brought up by your grandmother?" Oh! there was no room for doubt. An angel must have guided the wandering footsteps of the little pilgrim, for it was indeed her own little daughter, the sole blossom of her youth and early married life. The more carefully O Yumi regarded the child, the more her memory convinced her that in the young face before her she could trace the baby features so sadly missed for seven long years--and finally her eager eyes detected an undeniable proof of her identity--a tiny mole high up on the child's forehead. The poor mother was on the verge of bursting into tears and crying out: "Oh, oh! You are indeed my own, O Tsuru!" But with a painful effort she realized what such a disclosure would mean to the child. "Who knows!" reflected the unhappy woman. "My husband and I may be arrested at any moment. I am indeed prepared for the worst that may befall us--even to be thrown into prison--but if I disclose my identity to O Tsuru, she must inevitably share our misery.[4] It is in the interest of my poor child's welfare that I send her away without revealing the truth which would expose her to untold trouble and disgrace." In those ancient times the criminal law enacted that innocent children should be implicated in the offences of the parents, and that the same sentence of punishment should cover them also. Love gave clearness to the workings of her mind, and in a moment O Yumi remembered what was threatening them and the inexorable decrees of the law. Involuntarily her arms were extended with the mother's instinct to gather the child to her heart, but she quickly controlled her emotion and did her best to address the little girl in a calm voice: "Oh, yes, I understand. For one so young you have come a long, long way. It is wonderful that alone and on foot you could traverse such a great and weary distance, and your filial devotion is indeed worthy of praise. If your parents could know of this they would weep for joy. But things are not as we wish in this sad world, life is not as the heart of man desires, alas! You say your father and mother had to leave you, their little babe, for whose sake they would gladly sacrifice their own souls and bodies. My poor child, they must have had some very urgent reason for parting from you in this way. You must not feel injured nor bear them any resentment on that account." "No, no," replied the little one intelligently, "it would be impious even to dream of such a feeling. Never have I felt resentment even for a single moment against my parents, for it was not their wish or intention to forsake me. But as they left me when I was only a baby I have no recollection of their faces, and whenever I see other children being tended and cherished by their mothers, or at night hushed to rest in their mother's arms, I cannot help envying them. I have longed and prayed ever since I can remember that I might be united to my own mother, and know what it is to be loved and cherished like all the other children! Oh, when I think that I may never see her again, I am very, very sad!" The lonely child had begun to sob while pouring out the grief that lay so near her heart, and the tears that she could no longer restrain were coursing, _porori, porori_, down her cheeks. O Yumi felt as though her heart was well-nigh breaking. Indeed, the woman's anguish at being an impotent witness of the sorrows of her forsaken child was of far greater intensity than the woes of the little girl's narration, yet as she answered, the mother's heart felt as though relentless circumstances had transformed her into a monster of cruelty! "In this life there is no deeper _Karma_-relation than that existing between parent and child, yet children frequently lose their parents, or the child sometimes may be taken first. Such is the way of this world. As I said before, the desire of the heart is seldom gratified. You are searching for your parents whose faces you could not even recognize, and of whose whereabouts you are entirely ignorant. All the hardships of this pilgrimage will be endured in vain unless you are able to discover them, which is very improbable. Take my advice. It would be much better for you to give up the search and to return at once to your native province." "No, no, for the sake of my beloved parents," expostulated the child, "I will devote my whole life to the search for them, if necessary. But of all my hardships in this wandering life the one that afflicts me most is that, as I travel alone, no one will give me a night's lodging, so that I am obliged to sleep either in the fields or on the open mountain-side; indeed, at times I seek an unwilling shelter beneath the eaves of some house, from whence I am often driven away with blows. Whenever I go through these terrible experiences I cannot help thinking that if only my parents were with me I should not be treated in this pitiless way. Oh! some one must tell me where they are! I long to see them ... I long ..." and the poor little vagrant burst out into long wailing sobs. The distracted mother was torn between love and duty. Oblivious of everything, for one moment she lost her presence of mind and clasped her daughter to her heart. She was on the point of exclaiming: "My poor little stray lamb! I cannot let you go! Look at me, I am your own mother! Is it not marvellous that you should have found me?" But only her lips moved silently, for she did not dare to let the child know the truth. She herself was prepared for any fate however bitter, but the innocent O Tsuru must be shielded from the suffering which would ultimately be the lot of her father and mother as the penalty for breaking the law. Fortified by this resolution, the Spartan mother regained her self-control and managed to repress the overwhelming tide of impulse which almost impelled her, in spite of all, to reveal her identity. Holding the little form closely to her breast she murmured tenderly: "I have listened to your story so carefully that your troubles seem to have become mine own, and there are no words to express the sorrow and pity I feel for your forlorn condition. However, 'while there is life there is hope' [_inochi atte monodane_]. Do not despair, you may some day be united to your parents. If, however, you determine to continue this pilgrimage, the hardships and fatigues you must undergo will inevitably ruin your health. It is far better for you to return to the shelter of your grand-mother's roof than to persist in such a vague search and with so little prospect of success. It may be that before long your parents will return to you, who knows! My advice is good, and I beg you to go back to your home at once, and there patiently await their coming." Thus O Yumi managed to keep up the pretence of being a stranger, and at the same time to give to her own flesh and blood all the help and comfort that her mother's heart could devise. But nature would not be disguised, and although she knew it not, a passion of love and yearning thrilled in her voice and manner and communicated itself to the child's heart. "Yes, yes," answered the little creature in appealing tones. "Indeed, I thank you. Seeing you weep for me, I feel as if you were indeed my own mother and I no longer wish to go from here. I pray you to let me stay with you. Since I left my home no one has been so kind to me as you. Do not drive me away. I will promise to do all you bid me if only you will let me stay." "Do you wish to make me weep with your sad words?" was all that O Yumi could stammer out, her voice broken with agitation. After a moment she added: "As I have already told you, I feel towards you as though you were indeed my own daughter, and I have been wondering if by any means it would be possible to keep you with me. But it cannot be. I am obliged to seem cold-hearted and to send you away, and all that I can tell you is that for your own sake you must not remain here. I hope you fully understand and will return to your home at once." With these words O Yumi went quickly to an inner room, and taking all the silver money she possessed from her little hoard she offered it to O Tsuru, saying: "Although you are travelling in this solitary and unprotected state you will always find some one ready to give you a night's lodging if you can offer them money. Take this. It is not much, but receive it as a little token of my sympathy. Make use of it as best you can and return to your native province without delay." "Your kindness makes me very happy, but as far as money is concerned I have many _koban_ [coins of pure gold used in ancient times], I am going now. Thank you again and again for all your goodness to me," replied O Tsuru in wounded accents, and showing by a gesture that she refused the proffered assistance. "Even if you have plenty of money--take this in remembrance of our meeting. Oh ... you can never know how sad I am at parting from you, you poor little one!" O Yumi stooped down and was brushing away the dust which covered the hem of O Tsuru's dress. "Oh, you must never think that I want to let you go.... Your little face reminds me of one who is the most precious to me in all the world, and whom I may never see again." Overcome with the passion of mother-love, she enfolded the poor little wayfarer in a close embrace, and the little girl, nestling in the arms of her own mother, thought she was merely a stranger whose pity was evoked by the recital of her sufferings. Instinct, however, stirred in her heart, and she could not bear the thought of leaving her new-found friend. But since it was impossible for her to stay with this compassionate woman, nothing remained but for her to depart. Slowly and reluctantly she passed out from the porch, again and again wistfully looking back at the kind face, and as O Tsuru resumed her journey down the dusty road she murmured a little prayer: "Alas! Shall I ever find my parents! I implore thee to grant my petition, O great and merciful Kwannon Sama!" and her tremulous voice grew stronger with the hopefulness of childhood as she chanted the song of the pilgrim. _Chichi haha no_ _Megumi mo fukahi_ _Kogawa-dera_ _Hotoke no chikai_ _Tanomoshiki Kana_. Father-love, mother-love, Theirs is none other love Than in these Courts is mine. Safe at Kogawa's shrine, Yea, Buddha's Vows endure, Verily a refuge sure. Meanwhile, from the gate, the unhappy mother sadly followed with her eyes the pathetic little figure disappearing on her unknown path into the gathering twilight, while the last glow of sunset faded from the sky. The little song of faith and hope sounded like sardonic mockery in her ears. In anguish she covered her face with her sleeves and sobbed: "My child--my child--turn back and show me your face once more! As by a miracle her wandering footsteps have been guided to the longed-for haven from far across the sea and the distant mountains. Oh, to have ruthlessly driven her away! What must our _Karma_-relation have been in previous existences! What retribution is this! What must have been my sin to receive such punishment!" While these torturing reflections voiced themselves in broken utterance her daughter's shadow had vanished in the gloom, and O Yumi, standing at the gate, felt her grief become unbearable. Vividly there arose before her mind the bitter pangs of leaving the old home and her baby child, and the misfortunes and poverty which had come upon them ever since Jurobei's discharge; the weariness and disappointment of the months of fruitless search for the lost sword; the homesickness of the exile banished from his own province and his lord's service by cruel circumstances; the disgrace which had now fallen upon her husband; all the accumulated pain of the past hushed to rest by the narcotic necessity of bearing each day's burden and meeting with courage and resource the ever-recurring difficulties and dangers of their hunted life. All these cruel phantom shapes arose to haunt the unhappy woman with renewed poignancy, sharpened by the agony of repression which her mother-love had been enduring for the past hour. Neither the arrow of hope which pierces the looming clouds of the future, nor the shield of resignation, would ever defend her again in this sorrow of sorrows. Suddenly a new resolve stirred her to action. "I can bear this no longer!" she cried frantically. "If we part now we may never meet again. I cannot let her go! From the fate that threatens us there may still be some way of escape. I must find her and bring her back." Hastily gathering up the lower folds of her _kimono_ she rushed out into the road that wound between the rice-fields and the dark gnarled pines. The evening wind had begun to moan through the heavy branches, and as it tossed them to and fro, to her fevered imagination they seemed to be warning her to retrace her steps and to wave her back with ominous portent. On and on she sped along the lonely road into the shadowy vista beyond which her child had disappeared into the darkness.... [Illustration: The unhappy mother sadly followed with her eyes the pathetic little figure disappearing on her unknown path.] PART III The temple bell was booming the hour of parting day as Jurobei disconsolately hurried home. All his attempts had failed to procure the money wherewith to pay Izæmon's debt to Butaroku, and knowing that Butaroku was the kind of man to take a merciless revenge, he was in a mood of profound depression. Suddenly in the road he came upon a group of beggars surrounding a little girl dressed as a pilgrim. The wretches, thinking her an easy prey to their cupidity, were tormenting the poor little wayfarer and trying to wrest from her the contents of her wallet, but she was bravely defending herself and resisting their attacks with great spirit. Seeing how matters stood, Jurobei promptly drove the beggars away with his stick, and then, to avoid the return of her assailants, he compassionately took the child by the hand and led her home with him. But alas! by a fatal mischance they had taken a different road to that chosen by O Yumi. As soon as they reached the porch he called out: "I have come back, O Yumi!" Contrary to his expectation there was no response, and entering hastily he found the cottage empty and in darkness. "How is it that the place is deserted? Where can O Yumi have gone to at this hour?" he grumbled as he groped his way across the room and set light to the standing lantern. Then by its fitful glow he sank down upon the mats in gloomy abstraction and the lassitude of disappointment, and pondered seriously on the desperate straits to which he and his wife were reduced: the situation seemed hopeless, for well he knew that no clemency could be expected from the enemy and unless some money was forthcoming that very night he was a lost man. All at once a thought struck him. He beckoned the little pilgrim to draw near. "Come here, my child! Those rascally beggars from whom I rescued you were trying to steal your wallet. Tell me, have you much money with you?" "Yes, I have what several kind people have given me," was her reply. "Let me see how much you have?" demanded Jurobei peremptorily. O Tsuru, for indeed it was she, took out a little bag, and reluctantly offered a few coins for her inquisitor's inspection. "Is this all you have, child?" he persisted impatiently. "No, no, I have several _koban_[5] besides," answered the girl, her childish mind exaggerating the amount. "Oh, indeed, so you have many _koban_?" Jurobei mused for a few minutes. Here was an unexpected opportunity to satisfy the avarice of Butaroku. "Let me take care of the _koban_ for you. It is not safe for you to keep them," said Jurobei, stretching out his hand towards her. "No, no!" replied O Tsuru, shaking her head with decision. "When my grandmother was dying she made me promise faithfully never to show the money to any one, as it is tied together with a very precious thing. I must not give or show the bag to any one." Jurobei, who saw deliverance from his debt of honour in the money he supposed the child to carry, tried to frighten her into giving it up to him, but she was firm in her refusal, and rose to her feet with the intention of escaping from her persecutor. "Oh, I will stay here no longer. You frighten me!" she exclaimed, moving towards the porch. Jurobei, in fear lest his last hope should fail, seized her by the collar of her dress. "Oh, oh, help, help!" loudly screamed the girl in terror. "What a noise, what a noise!" exclaimed Jurobei in exasperation, and alarmed lest the neighbours should overhear the child's cries, he roughly attempted to stifle her screams with his hand across her mouth. For a few minutes, as a snared bird flutters in the net of its captor, the hapless O Tsuru put forth all her strength and endeavoured desperately to disengage herself; her struggles then subsided and she grew still. Jurobei began to reason with her without removing his hold: "There is nothing whatever to fear! The truth is I am in pressing need of some money. I do not know how much you have, but lend it to me for a few days. During that time stay here quietly. I will take you to visit the Temple of Kwannon Sama, and we will go every day to see the sights of the city near by and amuse ourselves. Never fear, only lend me all you have like a good child." As he freed her she fell to the ground. "What is the matter?" said Jurobei, anxiously bending over her little form. There was no answer. She lay quite still with no sign of life or motion. "Oh, oh!" exclaimed Jurobei. Thinking that she had fainted, he fetched water and sprinkled her pale face and tried to force a few drops between her closed lips, but there was not even a flicker of response. The child lay dead before him. Worn out with the hardships and fatigues of the long, long pilgrimage, as a frail light flickers out before a rough gust of wind, her waning strength had failed in that last struggle. The griefs of earth were left behind and the brave little soul had set out on its longer journey to the _Meido_ (Hades). Jurobei was thoroughly alarmed. In that tragic moment he knew not what to do. However, hearing his wife's returning footsteps, he hastily moved the body to one side of the room and covered it with a quilt. O Yumi entered the room in great perturbation. "Oh, oh! Help me to look for her, help me! While you were out this afternoon, wonderful to tell! who should come here in search for us but our own child, O Tsuru. How I longed to reveal myself to her, the poor, poor little one! But the knowledge that she must share our miserable fate when we are arrested, which may be at any moment now, forced me to send her away without telling her that I was her mother. After she had gone I could not bear the thought of never seeing her again. I ran after her, but she had disappeared! She cannot have gone far. I came back to fetch you. Let us look for her together." Jurobei was dumbfounded at this totally unexpected intelligence. He stood up as though ready to start out into the night. "How was she clothed? What kind of dress did she wear?" he asked hurriedly. "She wore a long-sleeved robe brightly patterned with designs of spring blossoms, and on her shoulders she carried a pilgrim's pack." "She carried a pilgrim's pack!" echoed Jurobei forlornly, and seized with an icy trembling. The frightful truth had flashed upon his brain. He knew that he had killed his own child! O Yumi, wondering at his hesitation, prepared to start out again. "You need not go to look for our child!" Jurobei hoarsely muttered. "She is already here!" "Has she come back?" cried O Yumi in excitement. "Tell me where she is." "She is lying there under that quilt," he replied, pointing to where the body lay. O Yumi quickly crossed the room and drew back the coverlet. "My child! Oh, my child! At last, at last I may call you so!" cried the delighted mother sinking on her knees in a transport of joy. Long and tenderly she gazed at the little figure, lying prone before her. But how strange that her clothes were still unloosened and the heavy pack had not been unstrapped from the tired shoulders. O Yumi touched her hands and found them cold. Panic-stricken, she listened at the child's breast only to find her fears confirmed and that the little form was still and lifeless. "Oh, oh, oh!" wailed O Yumi, "She is dead! She is dead!" The shock was too deep for tears. For a moment the unhappy woman was paralysed. Then turning to her husband: "You must know how she died. Tell me! Tell me!" she gasped distractedly. The half-dazed Jurobei related as well as he could all the events of that fatal afternoon. He finished his recital: "I put my hand over her mouth to stop her screaming, and on releasing her she fell to the ground. I had no intention of killing her and pitied the poor unfortunate girl, though I had no idea that she was my little Tsuru. That I should have slain our own child must be the result of sin committed in one of the former states of existence, alas! Forgive me, O Yumi! Forgive me!" and the stricken man broke down and wept. "Was it you, her father, who killed her?" cried O Yumi, in horror. "Oh, my child, my own child!" she sobbed. "It was your fate to come in search of such cruel, unnatural parents. When you told me of the hardships you had suffered in looking for them, my soul was pierced with woe. When I refrained from making myself known to you I felt as though my heart must break. It was only the depth of my love for you that made me drive you away from our door. If only I had kept you here this would never have happened. This calamity has come upon us as a result of my driving you away. Forgive me, oh, forgive me! O Tsuru, O Tsuru!" and the miserable mother gathered the lifeless form of her little daughter to her breast and rocked herself to and fro in the frenzy of grief unutterable. "Words are useless. What is done can never be undone. If only I had not known that she possessed the money to help me out of this crisis it would never have happened. Money is a curse!" he said in broken accents, as he took out from the folds of the child's dress the bag containing the coins. Opening it only three _ryo_[6] were disclosed. "What a miserable pittance! Can this be all? I made a mistake in thinking she had a great deal. This certainly must be retribution for some bad action in my previous existence!" His hand still searching the bag came upon a letter. He drew it forth and read the address: "_To Jurobei and his Wife!_" "Ah! this is my mother's handwriting!" Jurobei tore it open and began to read: "Ever since the day you left home we must have felt mutual anxiety concerning each other's health and welfare. This is the natural feeling between parent and child, so I shall not write more upon this subject, but inform you of the real reason for this letter without further detail. "First of all what I wish to tell you is, that it has come to my knowledge that Onota Gunbei has the lost Kunitsugu sword in his possession. Immediately I tried to obtain indisputable evidence of this fact, but as I am only a stupid woman, on second thoughts I feared that were I to take any steps in this direction it might result in more harm than good. "Intending, therefore, to seek you out and let you proceed in this matter, I began to prepare myself and O Tsuru for the journey. But at the last moment I was suddenly taken with a mortal illness and was compelled to relinquish all hope of setting out to find you. I write this letter instead. As soon as it reaches your hands return home at once. "Restore the sword to its rightful owner and earn your promotion--for this I shall wait beneath the flowers and the grass." "Oh," exclaimed Jurobei, "then it was Gunbei who stole the sword. How grateful I am to my mother for this discovery. But what a cruel blow to think that she is dead!" O Yumi took the letter from his hand and continued to read aloud: "My greatest anxiety now is concerning little O Tsuru left helpless and friendless, and about to start alone on this journey. If by the mercy and help of the Gods she reaches you safely, bring her up tenderly and carefully. She is a clever child. She writes and plays the _koto_ well, besides being clever at her needle, and can skilfully sew _crêpe_ and silken robes. I myself have taken pains to instruct her, and am proud of my pupil. Give her an opportunity of showing her handiwork, and then praise her both of you. "She brings with her the medicine which I have found by experience to suit her best. Should she ail at any time, fail not to administer it. Although repetition is irksome, yet again I beg you to take every care of my precious grandchild." Here O Yumi, unable to read further, broke down in lamentations and cried aloud. * * * * * Now the spiteful Butaroku, finding that Jurobei did not come to pay Izæmon's debt according to agreement, was highly incensed. Knowing that the authorities were on the alert to seize Jurobei, he maliciously went and lodged information of his whereabouts. Just at the moment they had finished reading the momentous letter the officers of the law arrived outside the house with a great noise, shouting and clamouring. Jurobei and O Yumi, to gain a few minutes' time, snatched up the body of O Tsuru and quickly concealed themselves in a back room. The police entered and a scene of wild confusion ensued. Confident of finding their prey hidden somewhere in the cupboards, they broke down the walls, the _shoji_, the boards of the ceiling, and even the little shrine dedicated to the Goddess Kwannon. Jurobei had in those few moments braced himself up for a desperate fight. He would rather die than surrender to the law before his mission of finding the sword had been accomplished. Like a whirlwind he rushed into the room where his adversaries were battering down all before them, and like a demon of fury he attacked them, mortally slashing with his sword each man that attempted to lay hands on him. The savage bravery of his onslaught was terrific, and so dexterous and unerring was his aim that he seemed possessed of superhuman strength: his opponents were terror-stricken, and in a few minutes, like a spider's nest, when the threads of the binding web are broken by rough contact, they fled for their very lives and rushed scattered in all directions. "Now is our time! Let us escape!" cried O Yumi. Both began to run from the wrecked house. "You have forgotten our child!" Jurobei whispered brokenly. "She needs our anxiety no more. She is safe beyond the suffering of this world. We will bury her here before we leave." Hurriedly retracing their steps they re-entered the house, and seizing the debris that lay strewn in all directions, placed it in a heap upon the little corpse. It was the work of a few moments to light the torches: this was the sole alternative that was left them to prevent their beloved dead from falling into the desecrating hands of callous strangers. It was impossible to carry the body with them in their flight. As the flames crackled and blazed up, Jurobei and O Yumi stood side by side, praying for the departed soul with uplifted hands placed palm to palm, while they watched the burning of their child's funeral pyre. PART IV It was springtime, and in the town of Tokushima the cherry-blossoms were bursting into bloom. The second of March[7] had come, and Onoto Gunbei was secretly rejoicing in the wicked thought that his schemes for the disgrace of his rival had been successful. Sakurai once removed from his path, his own advancement would be certain. To-morrow Sakurai must take the Kunitsugu sword to the palace and lay it in state before the Daimio. For reasons of his own Gunbei knew that this would be a matter of impossibility. Sakurai would therefore be suspected of having stolen it and his degradation would be the certain result. Gunbei's sinister features relaxed into a malignant smile as he proudly stalked along the road on his way to the shrine at the western end of the town. Two of his retainers were following at a respectful distance in his rear. He had reached the precincts of the temple when one of these men came hurrying up: "My lord! Jurobei, the man for whom you are constantly on the look out, is in that tea-house close by. I have just recognized him. What steps shall we take?" "Very good!" said his master. "You have done well. Let us hide ourselves, and when he leaves the place rush upon him unawares and seize him." Jurobei, after a short time, walked out from the hostelry. His mind was entirely engrossed with the thought that the sword must be retrieved from Gunbei's possession before the morrow, the third of the third month. As he abstractedly strolled along, the enemy lying in ambush pounced upon him from behind. But his years of _ronin's_ hard and reckless life had trained his muscles to such phenomenal strength that in the tussle that followed, within a few rounds, he came off triumphantly the victor. Gunbei, who had been a spectator of this unequal contest, drew his sword. Jurobei, noting his action, caught up one of Gunbei's men and used him as a shield to ward off the blows. The news of the fight was soon carried to Sakurai, who immediately hurried to the spot. Directly he became aware of the identity of Gunbei's opponent, he shouted: "What presumption to stand up and attack your superior. Surrender at once!" He then turned to Gunbei. "I will take him, therefore put up your sword." Jurobei, who understood that this was strategy on his master's part, obediently allowed himself to be bound. Sakurai then handed him over to Gunbei, who gave him in charge of his henchmen and bade them conduct him to his house. Gunbei's joy was extreme at having Jurobei in his power. He ordered him to be secured to a tree in the inner garden while he stood and mocked at him. "Ho, Jurobei! I have a grudge to pay off against you. Why did you kill two of my men three months ago--tell me that?" "I slew them because they intended to murder my master," replied Jurobei. "Indeed! I believe that you are also the man who stole the sword for which your master is responsible--ho, ho, ho! You are both robbers, you must have connived at the theft of the sword together--confess!" "You may say what you like of me, but you lie with regard to Shusen." In a rage Gunbei and his accomplices put their sheathed swords beneath the ropes which bound Jurobei, and twisted them round and round so that they cut into the flesh and inflicted great torture on their victim. Now it happened that Takao, the Daimio's illegitimate half-sister, whom Izæmon had been enabled to rescue from the infamous quarter through Jurobei's help, had been taking refuge in Sakurai's home. Here she had been seen by Gunbei, who had fallen madly in love with her beauty, and had planned to make her his mistress. One day in the absence of Sakurai he had sent his retainer, Dotetsuke, to carry her off by force. Takao, now installed beneath Gunbei's roof, was obliged to listen to his dishonourable advances, but so far had managed to repel them. She was in the secret of the lost sword, and her purpose was to use the present occasion as an opportunity of laying hands on it if possible. On hearing the commotion she opened the _shoji_ and eagerly scanned the direction whence it arose. To her astonishment and distress she recognized in the bound and helpless form none other than her valiant friend Jurobei. The thought that she owed her deliverance from her wretched past to his chivalrous generosity flashed through her mind. Trained to resource and intrigue, on the spur of the moment she resolved to pretend that Jurobei was her brother. This feigned relationship would afford them facilities for consultation concerning the sword. Impetuously advancing to the edge of the veranda, she looked earnestly at the captive and uttered a piteous cry: "Oh, oh! it is my brother! Oh! my poor brother!" "This is interesting!" jeered Gunbei. "Are you really brother and sister?" Takao implored Gunbei to release Jurobei. "If you listen to me I will set him free," replied Gunbei, whose desire was all the more inflamed by her rejection of his suit. "But if you refuse to obey me, I will torture him with both fire and water." Takao wept with her face hidden in her sleeves. "Is it possible that you are a _samurai_?" she sobbed. "Does your heart know no sympathy--no mercy? This is unendurable! I cannot bear to see it!" "It is you who know no sympathy either for me or your brother. I have made conditions with you, Takao. It rests entirely with you. Accept my love and you are both free." "Such a matter cannot be decided of my own will. I am a woman and not a free agent. I must consult my elder brother." "Very well," responded Gunbei, "if you cannot decide this by yourself, by all means consult with your elder brother Jurobei--and come to a good understanding. I will leave you both for a while." At a sign Gunbei's henchmen released Jurobei. "Persuade your sister to obey me and I will forgive you all and set you free. I must have Takao's affection. Think well, and give me an answer that will gladden me." Then turning to Takao he continued: "If you finally reject my proposals you shall both be cruelly put to death. Your two lives depend upon your will. I shall await your decision in the inner part of the house." Here Gunbei retired. Blinded by his wild passion for the unfortunate girl he was unable to see the resolution expressed on both their faces. Both his mind and soul were clouded by the desire to possess at all costs the beautiful woman who defied him. Unaware of her high birth, the knowledge of which would have abashed him in his pursuit of her, he considered that she was the legitimate prey to his will. Takao and Jurobei were left alone. They entered the room, crossing the veranda. Seating themselves, Jurobei made a profound obeisance at a respectful distance from Takao. "Even though it is for the sake of the Kunitsugu sword, it is a sacrilege that the close relative of our noble Daimio should for one moment be called the sister of such a poor fellow as myself." "It is not worth while to trouble your mind about these trifles while the finding of the sword is at stake. Think not of who is master or servant. We must find the sword this very night." "Yes, yes," replied Jurobei, "I have the same purpose as yourself. Now is a good opportunity. Gunbei is madly in love with you. For a time pretend to listen to his wooing--whatever he may say do not let it anger you--then while he is off his guard draw out the sword he is wearing from its sheath: if the _habaki_ (the ring which secures the guard to the blade) is of gold, ornamented with carven butterflies and flowers, and the markings on the edge of the blade is the _midare-yake_,[8] be sure that it is the missing Kunitsugu sword. Then give me a sign. Till that moment I will be waiting in concealment close at hand." "Yes, yes," answered Takao. "Although Gunbei's attentions are hateful to me, it is my duty, for the sake of the sword, to pretend to yield to him for a short time. In this way Sakurai will be saved. Let us agree upon a signal. I will go to the stream and, throwing some cherry flowers into it, I will repeat: _Hana wa sakura:_ _Hito wa bushi._ The cherry is first among flowers: The warrior first among men." They separated quietly. Takao sank upon the mats, musing sadly. The prospect that lay before her was utterly revolting to her mind. Meanwhile Gunbei, eager to know the result of the conference he had permitted between the two, quietly entered the room from behind. Her attitude of dejection greatly enhanced her pale and aristocratic beauty, and Gunbei thought that she looked more ravishingly lovely than he had ever seen her before. The sight of her inflamed his longing to possess her as his own. "What a woman!" he thought to himself. "She shall be mine!" As he moved across the room, Takao, who was hitherto unaware of his presence, started to her feet. "No, no," remonstrated Gunbei in seductive accents, "I cannot allow you to run away--do not deceive yourself for one moment. I have come for your answer, Takao. It is 'Yes,' is it not?" He thought that as he found her alone and in this pensive frame of mind that Jurobei must have persuaded her to become his paramour. His pulses throbbed and the blood in his veins ran fire. In his overmastering passion he did not notice that his would-be victim shuddered as he took her hand and drew her close to him till she was reclining on his knees. Dreamily he whispered: "Takao, you are as beautiful as an angel. Yield to my desire and I will make you my wife. Only listen to me, and all shall be as you wish both for yourself and your brother, Jurobei.--Come, come! Let us belong to each other!" and he endeavoured to draw her towards the inner room. Takao, in the meantime, had rested her hand on the hilt of his sword and was about to draw it from its sheath. "What are you doing, Takao! Why do you touch my sword?" asked Gunbei sharply, roused out of his reverie of love. "Think of me no more! With this sword I will cut off my hair and become a nun. You may rest assured that never shall another man touch me all my life." With these words she attempted to draw the sword from his girdle. Gunbei, thwarted in his longing for the beautiful woman, now lost his temper. He pushed her roughly to one side: "You scorn my love then? You are an obstinate creature! Instead of forgetting you I will torture Jurobei. You shall soon know what my hatred means." Clapping his hands, he called his confidential servant: "Dotetsuke! Dotetsuke!" When the man appeared his master wrathfully gave the imperious command: "Tie up that woman to yonder cherry-tree." Dotetsuke obediently dragged Takao into the garden and bound her with the rope that had a little time before made Jurobei a prisoner to the same tree. Gunbei, who had watched the execution of his cruel order from the veranda, retired into the room to meditate sulkily on his ill-success. His heart was bitter within him with chagrin and baffled desire. Suddenly, through a small side gate, there appeared a priest of sinister appearance who, approaching the balcony, saluted Gunbei. "According to your wishes I have prayed seven days in succession for the Daimio of Tokushima to be seized with mortal illness. Where is my reward?" "Do not speak so loudly!" reproved Gunbei. "You may be overheard! You shall be duly compensated for your services later. This is not the time. Return at once!" "Yes, yes, I will obey you, but do not forget to let me have the money soon." And Kazoin, the wicked priest, fingering his rosary and praying for evil, departed as stealthily as he had come. Meanwhile the unhappy Takao was left alone. She struggled to free her hands from the cords that cut into her tender flesh, but in vain. "What shall I do?" she sobbed. "Jurobei must be waiting for my answer. I must find some means of letting him know my condition. Is there no way by which I can get free? I am powerless to find the sword or to help Shusen." She struggled desperately against the tree and in her anguish she murmured: "Gunbei is surely a devil in human form. He has stolen the sword himself in order to incriminate others. Shusen will be lost and his house ruined unless we can recover it this very night." In her violent efforts to wrench herself free the cherry-tree was shaken and several blossoms fell into the stream. The falling flowers brought hope and comfort to Takao's heart. "The holy Buddha has come to our aid," she reflected. "Jurobei will surely see the flowers in the water, and think that it is the pre-arranged signal." Meanwhile Jurobei, from his hiding-place, was watching the stream, waiting with impatience for the promised sign. Just as he was beginning to chafe at the unexpected delay he caught sight of a cluster of white blossoms floating down the current of the rivulet. "Ah, then it was the Kunitsugu sword which Gunbei stole and wore on his person, never letting it out of his sight night or day." [Illustration: Gunbei had watched the execution of his cruel order from the veranda.] Creeping along within the shadow of the trees he stealthily made his way across the inner garden towards the room where he expected to find Takao. But what was his surprise when he came upon her bound to the cherry-tree. "Jurobei, at last you have come!" she gasped. "Takao Sama, whatever has happened? Why are you treated like this?" "It is because I could not endure Gunbei's hateful attentions," she answered, weeping. "Help me, I cannot move!" Jurobei set to work to unfasten the ropes and in a few minutes Takao was released. "Leave this matter to me!" advised Jurobei. "I will find some means of outwitting Gunbei yet." And Jurobei, followed by Takao who was endeavouring to arrange her disordered robes, boldly strode into the room of his enemy. The screens were pushed aside and Gunbei appeared. He glared fiercely at the intruding couple. "How dare you release that woman without my permission?" "It is my intention to counsel her to comply with your wishes," replied Jurobei, "therefore have I set her free--to give her to you as my sister." "Ya, Jurobei, have your powers of persuasion induced your sister to consent to my proposals?" inquired Gunbei in mocking tones. "Yes, I know not which I am, an elder brother or a go-between. If you have any other work for me, I am at your service." "Ha, ha!" sneered Gunbei, "then as your sister agrees to please me we shall now be members of the same family. As a sign that we are closely related, take this by way of congratulation," and suddenly drawing his sword, he slashed at Jurobei. Jurobei's keen eye forestalled the action, and, skilled fencer that he was, like lightning he seized a bucket close at hand and, holding it up, adroitly parried the rain of blows with this improvised shield. "What does this mean?" he exclaimed. "This is too much attention even from a relative. It is troublesome. Surely so much ceremony between members of the same family is unnecessary. Please take it back." Gunbei's answer was another wild attack on Jurobei, who nimbly avoided the thrusts. While his whole attention was engrossed in trying to cut down Jurobei, Takao stole behind him and snatched the long sword hanging at his side from its sheath. "Here is the Kunitsugu sword," she joyfully exclaimed. On hearing these words, Gunbei turned like a demon of fury upon her. "If you have found it I will kill you both," shouted Gunbei. But before he could execute his threat Jurobei seized him from behind. Dotetsuke, a secret supporter of Shusen Sakurai, and who all this time has acted the part of a spy and pretended accomplice in Gunbei's vile schemes, now escorted his real master upon the scene. Sakurai loftily addressed his unmasked foe. "Your villainous plots are all laid bare, and it is impossible for you to escape justice. Confess all and pray for mercy." Gunbei, choking with rage, flung off Jurobei and rushed upon his abhorred rival. Sakurai skilfully parried the onslaught, seized Gunbei, and with a prodigious effort hurled him out into the garden. "Dotetsuke!" called Sakurai, "come and help us!" "Yes, yes!" answered the man, as he ran to Jurobei's assistance in holding the wretch down. Gunbei started. "What? Are you also on Shusen's side?" and he gnashed his teeth in impotent fury. "You have won!" He turned to Shusen. "It is useless for me to attempt to conceal the truth. I stole the sword, thereby hoping to bring about your ruin. I can say no more. Take the sword and return to your house. Does not that suffice?" "The sword is but a small part of the crimes you have committed. Listen, villain that you are! You have done a much greater wrong. Our Lord, the Daimio of Tokushima, has loaded you with favours, and you, like a dastardly traitor, have requited his kindness by conspiring to compass the death of your benefactor." "Silence, Shusen! That is a lie. I have always hated you as my rival, but I have borne no spite towards our Lord. What proof could you possibly have for such base allegations?" and Gunbei stared hard at his accuser. Shusen smiled superciliously as he clapped his hands. In answer to the summons, Izæmon led in a prisoner, Kazoin, the wicked priest. "Here are my witnesses of your schemes against the life of the Lord of Tokushima." Gunbei realized his checkmate: there was nothing to be gained by lying further. He was a declared traitor. In desperation he attempted to rally his strength and attack Sakurai again, but he was promptly seized and again thrown down into the garden. "You are a bad man, Gunbei. Our Lord shall judge you." Then turning to the men he gave the command: "Bind him, hand and foot!" When the mortified Gunbei lay helpless and cringing at his mercy, Shusen turned to his trusty vassal and addressed him, saying: "Jurobei, I promote you in my service. You are a true and faithful knight. Let us rejoice, for we have triumphed and our enemy will receive his deserts--he is defeated!" Takao here brought forward the sword and placed it slowly and ceremoniously before Jurobei who had staked his life, his house, his all, and lost his only child in the tragic search. "It is found in time!" she said. "Look, the dawn breaks! It is the morning of the third of March!" Receiving the weapon with a profound bow, Jurobei, on bended knees, raised it aloft in both hands and presented it to his feudal master, saying: "To your keeping is at last restored the stolen treasure of our Daimio!" and thus ended the _Quest of the Lost Sword_ Note.--Kunitsugu was the name of a famous swordsmith who lived at the end of the Kamakura Period, 1367. [Footnote 1: A small knife which fits into the hilt of a sword.] [Footnote 2: The Shrines of Kumano or The Three Holy Places date from the first century B.C., and are famous for their healing powers. The Nachi waterfall is the third of these ancient shrines, and is No. 1 of the thirty-three places sacred to Kwannon, the Goddess of Mercy.] [Footnote 3: Lit. Flower-Capital = Kyoto.] [Footnote 4: In old Japan the sentence of imprisonment, execution, and even crucifixion fell on the wife as well as all the children, even to the youngest babe of the criminal.] [Footnote 5: _Koban_ = the name of an ancient pure gold coin elliptical in shape, worth about one _Yen_, but the purchasing value perhaps a hundred times what it is in the present day.] [Footnote 6: _Ryo = Yen_, about two shillings, but in those times equal to perhaps a hundred times its present value.] [Footnote 7: March by the old calendar fell a month later than the present way of reckoning.] [Footnote 8: Swords of different smiths were distinguished by the marks on their blades, formed by the different methods of welding. The _midare-yake_ is an undulating line like the waves of the sea.] THE TRAGEDY OF KESA GOZEN The beautiful tragedy of Kesa Gozen has been familiar to me since the days of my early youth, when hand in hand I walked the school garden with Fumiko, my friend, and listened with the ardour of a romance-loving nature to the many stories of old Japan, and more especially of its heroines of antiquity, with which she loved to make me familiar. Fumiko was the daughter of a naval officer, well versed in the literature of her own land, and a good English scholar. I had only just come to Japan, an Anglo-Japanese girl who had been brought up in England, knowing nothing of my fatherland. "Friendships are discovered, not made," says a philosopher, and in our case this was true. In her delightful and sympathetic companionship I began to forget the heart-aching homesickness for my motherland, and to learn to accustom myself to the strange country to which fate and my father had brought me. There is nothing more pitiful than the abysmal loneliness and utter hopelessness of the young, cut off from those they love, and planted in antipodal surroundings; they have no experience to tell them that misery, like joy, is but a condition of time, and that both pass and alternate. Who can say what drew us together? Yet never was I happier than when she put her hand in mine and made me her confidante, and great was my sorrow when she married and left me to pace the garden alone and to the memory of all the stories she had told me. To her I owe my awakening to the beauty of Japanese romance and the love of those old tragedies. Many years have passed since then, but when I was told that Danjiro was acting the drama of Kesa Gozen at the Kabukiza Theatre my mind flashed back to those convent-like days when Fumiko and I _Lo, as some innocent and eager maiden_ _Leans o'er the wistful limit of the world_, _Dreams of the glow and glory of the distance_, _Wonderful wooing and the grace of tears_, _Dreams with what eyes and what a sweet insistence_ _Lovers are waiting in the hidden years_, stirred to life stories of love and duty, old as the dawn which first broke upon the island empire, yet ever new and living while hearts throb to the music of the ideal. But I am long in coming to the story of Kesa Gozen. This beautiful and touching story of the Japanese ideal of woman's character and morals is told in the drama called _Nachi-No-Taki Chikai No Mongaku_, "The Priest Mongaku at the Waterfall of Nachi" (it is characteristic of the Japanese that they have ignored the heroine in the title of the drama), which was acted by Danjiro Ichikawa, the star of the Japanese stage, at the Kabukiza Theatre during the month of October 1902. The heights of romance and tragedy are scaled, and the pathos of a woman's unflinching and voluntary sacrifice of life, rends the heart. The heroine is not a Francesca da Rimini, caught up by the whirlwind of passion and blown whithersoever it listeth, but a woman who finds herself confronted by a vehement and determined love, out of the toils of which she sees no escape, and so, in the prime of youth and beauty, to save her husband's name, her mother's life, and her own virtue, she calmly arranges by stratagem to die by the hand of her impetuous and would-be lover. These tragic events took place in the year 1160, and a full account of them may be found in the "Gempei Seisuiki," a record of the rise and fall of the two great rival clans, the Taira[1] and the Minamoto, whose struggles for supremacy disturbed Japan for many years, and find a parallel in the conflicts of the White and Red Roses in England. What is known historically of the story is this. Kesa, the heroine, was the only child of a widowed mother called Koromogawa, after the place of her residence during her married life. The word "Koromo" means the vestments of a priest, and her daughter was consequently called "Kesa," which means the "stole," her real name being Atoma. Both her father and grandfather were knights. The mother and daughter led a secluded life, always bordering on poverty, and at times menaced by actual want. Koromogawa took charge of an orphaned nephew, a boy, a few years older than Kesa, and the two young cousins grew up together, with the old-fashioned result that the lad fell in love with the lass. At the age of sixteen, Yendo Morito, called away probably on business connected with his clan, had to leave Kesa, just then budding into exquisite beauty. Before leaving he entreated his aunt to promise him Kesa in marriage. Koromogawa complied. Yendo did not return for five years, and in the meantime, Watanabe Wataru, a wealthy and handsome young warrior, proposed for the hand of Kesa. The mother, probably in consideration of the advantages of the match from a worldly point of view, neglected her promise to Yendo, and married Kesa to Wataru, who also was the girl's cousin. After they have been married two years Yendo Morito returns and sees his lovely young cousin by accident. His boy's love, cherished fondly during long years of absence, flames into a man's overmastering passion at sight of her. He learns, to his despair, that she is married to another, and in his wrath determines to kill his aunt who, by her faithlessness to her promise, has made his life a misery. He rushes out and entering his aunt's house draws his sword upon her. She, to gain time, weakly promises that he shall see Kesa that very evening. Yendo, fain to be content with this hope, retires, and Koromogawa summons her daughter by a letter. When Kesa arrives she finds that her mother has made all arrangements to kill herself, and on learning the circumstances she undertakes to see her cousin, and quiets her distressed parent. Then she interviews Morito and tells him that she has always loved him, but before she can be his he must first put her husband out of the way. To this he willingly consents. She bids him come that night to the house, where she will make her husband wash his hair and drink wine so that he may sleep soundly. Yendo is to steal in at midnight and, by feeling for the damp hair, find and slay his rival. Kesa returns home, washes her own hair, and sleeps in the room she has pointed out to Yendo, having carefully put her husband to sleep in an inner room. This is an interesting psychological point, and is perhaps obscure to the Western reader. The ethical training of a Japanese woman teaches her that in any great crisis she is the one to be sacrificed. Kesa, rather than be the cause of a quarrel which would involve her husband and her mother in a blood-feud with Yendo, puts herself out of the way, and by doing so not only saves the lives of all concerned, but preaches a silent and moving sermon to her kinsman, whose ungoverned conduct is contrary to the teaching of all Japanese moralists. The mad and reckless lover comes, but when he thinks to gaze with triumph on the severed head of his hated rival he is stricken with horror to find that he has murdered the woman he loved so passionately. He confesses his crime to the husband and they both become monks. Years after, from the obscurity of the monastery, having survived a long interval of austere life and self-inflicted penances, there rises into the prominence of political life a monk called Mongaku, who is the friend and counsellor of the great Shogun, Yoritomo, the head of the Minamoto clan. Mongaku, the monk, is the knight Yendo Morito. It is the opinion of some that Kesa really loved Yendo, but her filial obedience obliged her to marry the man whom her mother chose for her. Then, when she found how great was her cousin's love for her, and knowing that in her heart she returned his love, but that she could not be his without sin, she went gladly to her death, rejoicing, doubtless, that it was by the sword of her beloved she should perish.[2] This version is the more beautiful and tragic, for we have a woman triumphant in the face of the strongest temptation that can ever beat against a human heart. The invincible yearning of the flesh must have been there, but the soul battled bravely and won. The power of beauty, the joy of conquest in love, these are hers; but Kesa, remaining faithful to duty, by her death places the honour of the family beyond all danger of blemish through her. The present drama does not recognize this latter version, but is founded on the former. The tragedy is epic from beginning to end, and "is lifted from the outset into the high region of things predestined." Fate, like some dread spider, weaves her fatal web of love and doom, and Kesa is caught in the meshes. The grand simplicity of the play and the purity of purpose of the heroine recall the Greek drama and the Roman tragedy of _Lucretia_. Kesa allows herself no petty, despicable dalliance with admiration; vanity lures her not from the narrow path of right. She sees that nothing will swerve Yendo from his irresistible passion, and she resolves to die. "Fear in the face of danger dies," and having quickly made up her mind she never vacillates nor looks back, but moves forward with the dignity of sublime reserve to pre-determined and self-imposed death. And Kesa was only seventeen years of age. Think of it! Act I. The play begins with a scene in the open air. A new bridge has been built near the town of Osaka, which can be seen with the hills and pine-trees in the distance. Numbers of Buddhist priests appear in gorgeous robes and offer prayers for the safety of the new bridge. Some village officials, a retainer of Yendo Morito, who is superintendent of the works, and Watanabe Kaoru, a brother-in-law to Kesa, the heroine, appear, and the young knight tells those present that his brother's wife Kesa is coming to see the opening of the new bridge. In a few minutes Kesa, the picture of youth and grace, in lovely _crêpe_ robes, her face hidden by a gossamer gown held over her head with both hands (an ancient custom resembling the Turkish _yashmak_), comes fluttering over the bridge like some radiant moth, followed by two attendants, Tamakoto and Otose. Before saluting her brother-in-law Kaoru, she removes the gauze veil and reveals to all a face of surpassing loveliness--gracefully oval in shape, a complexion white as the lily, lips crimson as the bud of the peach blossom, and long almond eyes, surmounted by eyebrows like the crescent of the new moon. She speaks to her brother-in-law, who tells her that he is going to see her cousin, Yendo Morito, the superintendent of the new bridge. Kesa then prepares to retire and, donning the gauze-robe _yashmak_, her attendants helping, she turns to go home. As she moves away Yendo Morito, on horseback, crosses the bridge and, catching sight of the beautiful woman, watches her disappear into the distance. The priest and officials bow in polite salutation, but he is oblivious to everything near him, for his gaze is riveted on the retreating figure of Kesa. He thrills with rapturous emotion at the sight, and happy memories of their childhood and early youth rush over him. The tragedy begins here. Yendo Morito, after several years' absence, sees his cousin for the first time and, shaken with a mighty love, now learns that she, who was promised to him in his boyhood, is already the wife of another--of his kinsman, Watanabe Wataru. Act II. The curtain is pulled aside upon the maternal home of Kesa, a small thatched cottage in the country near Kyoto. The whole aspect of the little home denotes genteel poverty, tranquil retirement, and spotless cleanliness. The two ladies who accompanied Kesa in the first Act, Tamakoto and Otose, are discovered in the little sitting-room discoursing. Koromogawa, an old lady with flowing grey hair, comes out from an inner room and receives her two visitors. In the course of conversation they ask her to tell them the reason why she has lived so long in such a remote place as the province of Mutsu. In compliance with their request, Koromogawa says: "I am the daughter of a knight who held the province in tenure for his services to his feudal lord. My husband was a retainer of the Governor of Mutsu, and so when we were married we went and lived at Koromogawa. My daughter Kesa was born to me there. Soon after my husband died, and I went back with my child to my old home, and have since lived a quiet and humble life. On my return the people of this neighbourhood called me after the place, Koromogawa, where my married life had been spent, and my daughter was called Kesa, though her real name is Atoma. She grew up here and married Watanabe Wataru." At this point an official named Gorokuro, who seems to be on friendly terms with the old lady, comes in and sits by the charcoal hearth and makes a cup of tea for every one present. The hearth is square, sunk in the floor, and the kettle hangs, gipsy fashion, over the fire, as is the way in the houses of the poorer classes. While serving tea Gorokuro complains of the behaviour of Yendo Morito during the building of the bridge. This young and impetuous knight treated the workmen in such a rigorous manner that insubordination resulted, and he, Gorokuro, had great trouble in controlling them. This incident gives the key to the young knight's character. Koromogawa apologizes to Gorokuro for the trouble her nephew Yendo has given him. While this conversation proceeds, Kesa, accompanied by one of her husband's retainers, Kisoda by name, arrives. Having dropped her sandals on the stepping-stone to the veranda, she removes her veiling robe, enters the house, and greets the old lady with low bows. She says that, whilst on her way home from visiting a temple with her husband, she has come to see her mother. In a little while the two ladies, Tamakoto and Otose, take their leave, and Kesa and her mother retire to an inner room. Yendo Morito is now seen approaching the house along the _hana-michi_, and announces himself at the gate. Koromogawa, in answer to the call, comes out to receive him and asks his business. He replies that his business is private and that he must speak with her in secret. Koromogawa then ushers her nephew into a back room, and the passing of the daylight is marked by the lighting of a candle. As he enters the house he starts at the sight of a woman's sandals on the steps, and evidently guesses that Kesa is near at hand. Little dreaming of the storm that is brewing, the old lady asks her nephew to be seated. He ominously remains standing with his hand upon his sword. Suddenly the young knight's eyes flash, he snatches the sword from its sheath, and seizing his astonished aunt, his pent-up sense of injury and the misery of his thwarted hopes find vent in these words: "Prepare to die at once! You are my enemy, and I am of the Watanabe clan, who never allow their enemies to live even for a day." "What wrong have I done you that you should wish to kill me?" exclaims the terrified woman. "Five years ago, before I went away, you promised to give me Kesa in marriage. I come back, and at the opening of the Watanabe bridge I see her, but only as the wife of another. I have always loved Kesa, and now I am bitterly disappointed and sick--sick with hopeless love and despair. It is true no correspondence has passed between us, but that has nothing to do with your promise. Ever since I last saw Kesa I have been ill, and I cannot and will not live without her. This is all your fault. You are my enemy, you shall die! and I will then kill myself. We will die together--prepare yourself!" "Wait a moment!" shrieks the terrified mother. "I did not mean to break my promise, but Wataru compelled me to give her to him. If you really still love her I will get her back somehow or other. Only calm yourself and listen to reason." But the young knight is reckless to madness; the old woman's pleading is lost upon him and, perhaps guessing that Kesa is in the next room, he determines to appeal to her filial piety so as to make her appear. He raises his sword and seizes his aunt again, but he has no time to strike: the sliding of a screen, the rustle of a woman's silken garments, and between Yendo and the victim of his vengeance there darts the lovely Kesa--his arm is stayed by her small hand, and, tremulous with agitation, a voice he has longed to hear for many lonely years says: "Spare my poor old mother!" The mother throws herself between Kesa and Yendo, crying: "I am ready to die. You must not sacrifice your virtue to save me." [Illustration: Yendo draws his sword, when between him and the victim of his vengeance there darts the lovely Kesa] Kesa again intervenes between her lover and her mother; again the mother throws herself in an agony of dread between them; but at last Kesa persuades the old woman to retire and to leave all to her discretion. Koromogawa then goes into the next room. The knight fixes his gaze upon his beautiful cousin, he trembles with emotion, and the resolve to possess her strengthens within his storm-tossed soul. She belongs to him by prior right. He had asked for her, and she had been promised to him before Wataru thought of her; what right had her mother to give her to Wataru? Anger sweeps away all remembrance of the past and of what he owes his aunt. Jealousy and desire, and hatred of the one whom he thinks has wronged him, alone remain. In vain Kesa gently pleads and expostulates. As if impatient of the delay of his vengeance, Yendo once more seizes his sword and rushes towards the inner room. Then Kesa wheels round upon him, and with her cheek close to his, her gorgeous _crêpe_ draperies touching him and her hand upon his arm, she whispers in his ear: "I have always loved you, Yendo. If you really love me as you say, you must first put my husband out of the way, and I am yours." "How can I kill him?" whispers the determined man. "Come to-morrow night and steal into the bedroom of my husband. I shall make him drunk with wine. You can identify him by touching his hair, for I shall induce him to wash it before retiring, and you will find the locks wet." As Kesa whispers her plan the tense figure of the desperate knight relaxes from its stern purpose of murder. Thrilling with hope and passion, he turns to her, and in the attitude of her abandonment and yielding to his will he sees the vision of their united happiness--the gratification of his passionate desires. Little does his wild and lawless nature dream of the escape which the noble woman will force out of the toils fast closing round her. The picture as the two stand together is intensely dramatic, and vibrates with the portent of a mighty crisis. Act III opens upon the fine residence of Watanabe Wataru, the husband of Kesa. The gleaming cream wood of the veranda and the posts, the fineness of the matting, the dainty white and gold of the walls and screens are all part of the exquisite refinements of a wealthy Japanese home. Kesa and her husband are discovered sitting side by side in a room opening on the garden. A large slab of granite forms the stepping-stone from the veranda and a line of irregular slabs makes a pathway to the bamboo gate which shuts off the outer garden. The whole arrangement and the atmosphere are realistic of a Japanese home. The young people, both magnificently robed, have only just retired to their sitting-room, for they have been entertaining guests at a banquet. The only furniture in the room is a sword-stand, on which the knight places his long weapon, the insignia of _samurai_ honour. Before them is a small low table[3] (_sambo_) of white wood, on which stands a white wine-jar and her husband's drinking-cup. Kesa dismisses the two servants in attendance, and then proceeds to pour out some wine for her husband. Wataru little dreams that it is the last cup his wife will ever drink with him, though to her, knowing her premeditated and self-arranged doom, the little ceremony has not only a sacrificial symbolism, but the appalling pathos and irrevocable pitilessness of a last love rite. [Illustration: Wataru little dreams that it is the last cup his wife will ever drink with him.] Wataru drains the wine-cup and, handing it to Kesa, pours the wine out for her. Kesa drinks, and then, overcome at last by a sadness which her husband does not understand, turns away and weeps. She explains that her tears spring from the thought of the unchangeable love between husband and wife, which would last even after death. He replies that the knowledge of their mutual faithfulness should be a joy and not a grief. While thus conversing in the hush of night, the deep mellow tone of a temple bell announces the hour of midnight. Kesa persuades her husband to retire to her own bedroom this night. On her knees she pushes aside the screens leading to an inner room, and as he passes in she bows with her head to the floor, and then closes them after him. Never will she see her husband again, yet her self-control is so great that she gives no sign of the emotion which must have surged over her at that moment. She knows that it is an eternal farewell, yet she allows Wataru to pass from her sight with only the usual greeting. For a little time she stands like one dazed; then, recollecting herself, she disappears for a few minutes and returns along the veranda. Now, for the first time, those that do not know the story divine the tragic end. Her long black hair streams, wet and heavy, over her shoulders, and she feels it as she moves along to make sure that it is quite wet. On her arm she carries one of her husband's _kimono_ and his ceremonial cap, all necessary for the deception of Yendo. Her aspect expresses hopeless grief and resignation. Twice in her slow progress to the outer room she stops and weeps. She looks out upon the still garden, and the coolness of the fragrant air and the soothing silence of the autumn night must seem to mock her woe. At the second outburst of grief it seems for a moment as if her resolution has failed her. She lays her cheek, in a passion of yearning and tenderness, on the robe she carries, and her tears fall fast at the thought of her happy wedded life, so soon to be cut short by the lawless desire of another man. There will be no one to pray for her old mother when she dies--it should be a daughter's duty to offer the daily incense to a mother's departed spirit; she can never know the pride of bearing a son to preserve the name of her husband's family. Oh! the pity of it--the pity of it! These, and more than these, must have been her sad thoughts. That she was loth to leave the world we learn by the poem, written in these moments of anguish, which she left with her farewell letter to her mother. She raises her head at last and comes forward. Her husband's honour, her mother's life, and her own purity are at stake; the weakness of sorrow vanishes--there is no other way than this. Her beauty is the sin, for it has roused Yendo's passion: her beauty must pay the penalty--her life is the sacrifice. To-night--as she planned when she rushed in upon the tumultuous scene between her mother and Yendo--she will sleep in her husband's room, and when Yendo her cousin comes, instead of killing her husband, his sword will cut off her own head. She lifts the bamboo curtain which hangs before the room at the end of the veranda and passes to her doom. The stage is darkened and empty. An impressive interval of silence and inaction follows. The audience throbs with the sustained sense of impending catastrophe and fatality hanging over the house. The awful pregnancy of the situation is intensely realistic, and its contrasts are strikingly dramatic. In the inner room--his wife's room, their happy bridal chamber--lies the husband, wrapt in peaceful sleep, pitifully unconscious of the tragedy which is being enacted within a few feet of him. In the outer room the young wife lies waiting in the lonely dark for the sword of her lover. Who can realize the tension of those last minutes, stretched to eternity by the agony of suspense? If by any chance her plan fails, her husband or her cousin will be killed, or both. What if Wataru, roused by some slight noise, come out to find Yendo approaching the room where she has arranged to sleep; what construction must he put upon these circumstances. And then, her senses sharpened by suffering and by the unutterable loneliness of the awful situation, she thinks that she catches the first faint sound of Yendo's stealthy footsteps. She counts them as they draw near, and as the bamboo curtain is raised and the swish of the sword falls upon her in the dark, she smiles to think that the struggle is over, that she has triumphed, and thus she faces death with the magnificent courage with which she had planned it. Yendo Morito arrives. His long sleeves are looped back, ready for his dreadful work, and in his hand he carries a drawn sword. Swiftly and noiselessly he moves along the veranda; pauses for a few moments outside the room where lies asleep, as he imagines, the only obstacle between him and the woman he loves--loves so passionately, madly, and blindly that he is willing to use the murder of his kinsman as a stepping-stone to reach her. He enters. The stage revolves. The courtyard of a temple is the next scene, surrounded by a wall with stone steps leading up to the outer court. The murderer is seen coming out upon the top of the steps into the moonlight: he carries something covered under his arm. Turning towards the flood of moonlight with a fierce and unholy joy at the thought of gazing on his rival's head, he uncovers what he carries. To his unspeakable horror and amazement the moonlight reveals the head of Kesa--his love--not that of Wataru, whom it was his purpose to kill. Unable to believe his eyes, he raises the head by the wet hair once more into the full light of the moon. There is no mistake. He recoils in a great revulsion of feeling as the truth forces itself upon his unwilling, shrinking mind, all his strength goes from him, he reels and staggers like a drunken man, and gasping for breath, he falls upon the steps overcome with uttermost anguish and remorse. In that awful moment he sees the hideousness of his crime and the wickedness of his heart in its true light. The cloud of darkness, as the Japanese say, rolls back from his soul, and he is smitten to earth with the sense of his guilt and misery. [Illustration: To his unspeakable horror and amazement the moonlight reveals the head of Kesa--his love!] The fourth scene of this Act represents the front gate of Wataru's house. It is the morning following the last scene. Outside stand numerous tradesmen--the rice-man, the fishmonger, and some _samurai_--all unable to effect an entrance, for, though late in the morning, the house is still closed. After repeated knocking, Kisoda and Otose appear and tell them that, on account of an unfortunate event which has occurred in the house, they must be asked to withdraw for the day. The tradesmen then go grumbling away. The next scene represents the familiar chamber where Wataru and Kesa sat together the evening before. In the middle of the room lies an ominous pile of quilts covering the remains of Kesa, splendidly dead by her own will. Before the corpse of his young wife sits the husband, the picture of mute and stoic grief. Opposite him is Koromogawa. Behind her again are Tamakoto and Otose. Wataru tells them that last night he slept in his wife's room in compliance with her wish, while she retired to his room. That in the morning he found her killed and her head carried away, and that no clue or trace of the murderer can be discovered. He says he can hardly speak for grief at the loss of Kesa and the disgrace his knighthood has suffered. An attendant here rushes in and says that Yendo insists on seeing Wataru. Wataru sends a message to say that he cannot receive him now. The servant returns to say that Yendo is forcing his way into the house, and that it is impossible to check him. Yendo rushes in like a whirlwind and seats himself outside the room, on the veranda. He lays the head down before them all and confesses his crime, with all the circumstances relating to it. Then comes the most heart-rending part of the tragedy. The old mother tenderly unwraps the head and, folding it to her bosom, gives way to a loud and long paroxysm of grief. Wail after wail bursts from her. She rocks herself in wild abandonment to the poignancy of an overwhelming and totally unexpected sorrow. The _samurai_ stoicism of the husband avails him not in this hour of bitter trial. He wipes his slow tears furtively away. Tamakoto brings out a letter of Kesa's found in the room where she was killed. Yendo snatches up the letter, spreads it out before him, and reads it aloud. It is addressed to her mother, and may be rendered into English as follows: "I have always heard [this is a humble form of expression which women are supposed to use--they must never assert a fact] that woman is a sinful creature [because of her beauty, which lures men to sin]. I fear that many people [meaning her mother, husband, and admirer] are in danger of their lives because of me. Mother, I know that you will sorrow much if I die, and I am sorrowful, thinking of the grief which I must cause you. I intend to expiate my sin [meaning the sin of being beautiful, which has caused Yendo to love her] by death. Weep not for me, and though it should be my place to pray for you, I beseech you to pray for the rest of my soul when I have departed on the journey of death. I can understand your sorrow, and this is the only anxiety I feel at this moment." Morito now presents his sword to Wataru and requests him to take life for life, and to behead him in order to avenge his wife's death. Wataru replies that he has no wish to kill him, since he has confessed and repented of his crime. "Let us forsake this worldly life and become followers of Buddha, and spend the rest of our lives in praying for Kesa." Then and there the two knights, first Wataru and then Yendo, take their swords and cut off their queues of hair.[4] Tamakoto brings in a low table, and on this Koromogawa places the head of Kesa. A tray with an incense-burner is now placed before the ghastly presence. The stricken mother, having set the incense burning, takes her rosary and bows her head in prayer to the brave departed spirit. Wataru now moves towards the extempore shrine, and worships with his face hidden. [Illustration: Yendo draws his sword, when between him and the victim of his vengeance there darts the lovely Kesa] In the presence of transcendent virtue and sublimely unselfish heroism, the sinner is forgotten. The silent scene of woe and desolation is too much for the penitent Yendo; he rises, and with one last-lingering look turns to go into his lifelong retreat from the world. Thus the stupendous tragedy, from the pitch of distraction and calamity, is brought to a quiet and reconciling close. Note.--The title of the play, _The Priest Mongaku at the Waterfall of Nachi_, is taken from the last scene, which represents the monk Mongaku undergoing his self-inflicted penance of sitting under this famous waterfall where he would have died had not two Buddhist deities descended from Heaven to rescue him. This I have omitted as I considered it an anti-climax. It is an historical fact, however, that Mongaku, to purge himself of his sins, did undergo these terrible austerities and sufferings. [Illustration: His grandfather had been a retainer of Ota Dokan ... and had committed suicide when his lord fell in battle.] [Footnote 1: The writer's father traces his descent from Taira no Kiyomori, the clan's chieftain.] [Footnote 2: This is the interpretation that the writer and her friend put upon the heroine's conduct.] [Footnote 3: These simple white utensils are always used in Shinto ceremonies.] [Footnote 4: Buddhist priests shave their heads.] THE SPIRIT OF THE LANTERN Some three hundred years ago, in the province of Kai and the town of Aoyagi, there lived a man named Koharu Tomosaburo, of well-known ancestry. His grandfather had been a retainer of Ota Dokan,[1] the founder of Yedo, and had committed suicide when his lord fell in battle. This brave clansman's grandson was Tomosaburo, who, when this story begins, had been happily married for many years to a woman of the same province and was the proud father of a son some ten years of age. At this time it happened, one day, that his wife fell suddenly ill and was unable to leave her bed. Physicians were called in but had to acknowledge themselves baffled by the curious symptoms of the patient: to relieve the paroxysms of pain from which she suffered, _Moxa_ was applied and burned in certain spots down her back. But half a month passed by and the anxious household realized that there was no change for the better in the mysterious malady that was consuming her: day by day she seemed to lose ground and waste away. Tomosaburo was a kind husband and scarcely left her bedside: day and night he tenderly ministered to his stricken wife, and did all in his power to alleviate her condition. One evening, as he was sitting thus, worn out with the strain of nursing and anxiety, he fell into a doze. Suddenly there came a change in the light of the standing-lantern, it flushed a brilliant red, then flared up into the air to the height of at least three feet, and within the crimson pillar of flame there appeared the figure of a woman. Tomosaburo gazed in astonishment at the apparition, who thus addressed him: "Your anxiety concerning your wife's illness is well-known to me, therefore I have come to give you some good advice. The affliction with which she is visited is the punishment for some faults in her character. For this reason she is possessed of a devil. If you will worship me as a god, I will cast out the tormenting demon." Now Tomosaburo was a brave, strong-minded _samurai_, to whom the sensation of fear was totally unknown. He glared fiercely at the apparition, and then, half unconsciously, turned for the _samurai's_ only safeguard, his sword, and drew it from its sheath. The sword is regarded as sacred by the Japanese knight and was supposed to possess the occult power assigned to the sign of the cross in mediæval Europe--that of exorcising evil. The spirit laughed superciliously when she saw his action. "No motive but the kindest of intentions brought me here to proffer you my assistance in your trouble, but without the least appreciation of my goodwill you show this enmity towards me. However, your wife's life shall pay the penalty," and with these malicious words the phantom disappeared. [Illustration: He glared fiercely at the apparition, and then, half unconsciously, turned for the _samurai's_ only safeguard, his sword.] From that hour the unhappy woman's sufferings increased, and to the distress of all about her, she seemed about to draw her last breath. Her husband was beside himself with grief. He realized at once what a false move he had made in driving away the friendly spirit in such an uncouth and hostile manner, and, now thoroughly alarmed at his wife's desperate plight, he was willing to comply with any demand, however strange. He thereupon prostrated himself before the family shrine and addressed fervent prayers to the Spirit of the Lantern, humbly imploring her pardon for his thoughtless and discourteous behaviour. From that very hour the invalid began to mend, and steadily improving day by day, her normal health was soon entirely regained, until it seemed to her as though her long and strange illness had been but an evil dream. One evening after her recovery, when the husband and wife were sitting together and speaking joyfully of her unexpected and almost miraculous restoration to health, the lantern flared up as before and in the column of brilliant light the form of the spirit again appeared. "Notwithstanding your unkind reception of me the last time I came, I have driven out the devil and saved your wife's life. In return for this service I have come to ask a favour of you, Tomosaburo San," said the spirit. "I have a daughter who is now of a marriageable age. The reason of my visit is to request you to find a suitable husband for her." "But I am a human being," remonstrated the perplexed man, "and you are a spirit! We belong to different worlds, and a wide and impassable gulf separates us. How would it be possible for me to do as you wish?" "It is an easier matter than you imagine," replied the spirit. "All you have to do is to take some blocks of _kiri_-wood [_Paulownia Imperialist_] and to carve out from them several little figures of men; when they are finished I will bestow upon one of them the hand of my daughter." "If that is all, then it is not so difficult as I thought, and I will undertake to do as you wish," assented Tomosaburo, and no sooner had the spirit vanished than he opened his tool box and set to work upon the appointed task with such alacrity that in a few days he had fashioned out in miniature several very creditable effigies of the desired bridegroom, and when the wooden dolls were completed he laid them out in a row upon his desk. The next morning, on awaking, he lost no time in ascertaining what had befallen the quaint little figures, but apparently they had found favour with the spirit, for all had disappeared during the night. He now hoped that the strange and supernatural visitant would trouble them no more, but the next night she again appeared: "Owing to your kind assistance my daughter's future is settled. As a mark of our gratitude for the trouble you have taken, we earnestly desire the presence of both yourself and your wife at the marriage feast. When the time arrives promise to come without fail." By this time Tomosaburo was thoroughly wearied of these ghostly visitations and considered it highly obnoxious to be in league with such weird and intangible beings, yet fully aware of their powers of working evil, he dared not offend them. He racked his brains for some way of escape from this uncanny invitation, but before he could frame any reply suitable to the emergency, and while he was hesitating, the spirit vanished. Long did the perplexed man ponder over the strange situation, but the more he thought the more embarrassed he became: and there seemed no solution of his dilemma. The next night the spirit again returned. "As I had the honour to inform you, we have prepared an entertainment at which your presence is desired. All is now in readiness. The wedding ceremony has taken place and the assembled company await your arrival with impatience. Kindly follow me at once!" and the wraith made imperious gestures to Tomosaburo and his wife to accompany her. With a sudden movement she darted from the lantern flame and glided out of the room, now and again looking back with furtive glances to see that they were surely following--and thus they passed, the spirit guiding them, along the passage to the outer porch. The idea of accepting the spirit's hospitality was highly repugnant to the astonished couple, but remembering the dire consequences of his first refusal to comply with the ghostly visitor's request, Tomosaburo thought it wiser to simulate acquiescence. He was well aware that in some strange and incomprehensible manner his wife owed her sudden recovery to the spirit's agency, and for this boon he felt it would be both unseemly and ungrateful--and possibly dangerous--to refuse. In great embarrassment, and at a loss for any plausible excuse, he felt half dazed, and as though all capacity for voluntary action was deserting him. What was Tomosaburo's surprise on reaching the entrance to find stationed there a procession, like the train of some great personage, awaiting him. On their appearance the liveried bearers hastened to bring forward two magnificent palanquins of lacquer and gold, and at the same moment a tall man garbed in ceremonial robes advanced and with a deep obeisance requested them not to hesitate, saying: "Honoured sir, these _kago_[2] are for your august conveyance--deign to enter so that we may proceed to your destination." At the same time the members of the procession and the bearers bowed low, and in curious high-pitched voices all repeated the invitation in a chorus: "Please deign to enter the _kago!_" Both Tomosaburo and his wife were not only amazed at the splendour of the escort which had been provided for them, but they realized that what was happening to them was most mysterious, and might have unexpected consequences. However, it was too late to draw back now, and all they could do was to fall in with the arrangement with as bold a front as they could muster. They both stepped valiantly into the elaborately decorated _kago_; thereupon the attendants surrounded the palanquins, the bearers raised the shafts shoulder high, and the procession formed in line and set out on its ghostly expedition. The night was still and very dark. Thick masses of sable cloud obscured the heavens, with no friendly gleams of moon or stars to illumine their unknown path, and peering through the bamboo blinds nothing met Tomosaburo's anxious gaze but the impenetrable gloom of the inky sky. Seated in the palanquins the adventurous couple were undergoing a strange experience. To their mystified senses it did not seem as if the _kago_ was being borne along over the ground in the ordinary manner, but the sensation was as though they were being swiftly impelled by some mysterious unseen force, which caused them to skim through the air like the flight of birds. After some time had elapsed the sombre blackness of the night somewhat lifted, and they were dimly able to discern the curved outlines of a large mansion which they were now approaching, and which appeared to be situated in a spacious and thickly wooded park. The bearers entered the large roofed gate and, crossing an intervening space of garden, carefully lowered their burdens before the main entrance of the house, where a body of servants and retainers were already waiting to welcome the expected guests with assiduous attentions. Tomosaburo and his wife alighted from their conveyances and were ushered into a reception room of great size and splendour, where, as soon as they were seated in the place of honour near the alcove, refreshments were served by a bevy of fair waiting-maids in ceremonial costumes. As soon as they were rested from the fatigues of their journey an usher appeared and bowing profoundly to the bewildered new-comers announced that the marriage feast was about to be celebrated and their presence was requested without delay. Following this guide they proceeded through the various ante-rooms and along the corridors. The whole interior of the mansion, the sumptuousness of its appointments and the delicate beauty of its finishings, were such as to fill their hearts with wonder and admiration. The floors of the passages shone like mirrors, so fine was the quality of the satiny woods, and the richly inlaid ceilings showed that no expense or trouble had been spared in the selection of all that was ancient and rare, both in materials and workmanship. Certain of the pillars were formed by the trunks of petrified trees, brought from great distances, and on every side perfect taste and limitless wealth were apparent in every detail of the scheme of decoration. More and more deeply impressed with his surroundings, Tomosaburo obediently followed in the wake of the ushers. As they neared the stately guest-chamber an eerie and numbing sensation seemed to creep through his veins. Observing more closely the surrounding figures that flitted to and fro, with a shock of horror he suddenly became aware that their faces were well known to him and of many in that shadowy throng he recognized the features and forms of friends and relatives long since dead. Along the corridors leading to the principal hall numerous attendants were gathered: all their features were familiar to Tomosaburo, but none of them betrayed the slightest sign of recognition. Gradually his dazed brain began to understand that he was visiting in the underworld, that everything about him was unreal--in fact, a dream of the past--and he feebly wondered of what hallucination he could be the victim to be thus abruptly bidden to such an illusory carnival, where all the wedding guests seemed to be denizens of the _Meido_, that dusky kingdom of departed spirits! But no time was left him for conjecture, for on reaching the ante-room they were immediately ushered into a magnificent hall where all preparations for the feast had been set out, and where the Elysian Strand[3] and the symbols of marriage were all duly arranged according to time-honoured custom. Here the bridegroom and his bride were seated in state, both attired in elegant robes as befitting the occasion. Tomosaburo, who had acted such a strange and important part in providing the farcical groom for this unheard-of marriage, gazed searchingly at the newly wedded husband, whose mien was quite dignified and imposing, and whose thick dark locks were crowned with a nobleman's coronet. He wondered what part the wooden figures he had carved according to the spirit's behest had taken in the composition of the bridegroom he now saw before him. Strangely, indeed, his features bore a striking resemblance to the little puppets that Tomosaburo had fashioned from the _kiri_-wood some days before. The nuptial couple were receiving the congratulations of the assembled guests, and no sooner had Tomosaburo and his wife entered the room than the wedding party all came forward in a body to greet them and to offer thanks for their condescension in gracing that happy occasion with their presence. They were ceremoniously conducted to seats in a place of honour, and invited with great cordiality to participate in the evening's entertainment. Servants then entered bearing all sorts of tempting dainties piled on lacquer trays in the form of large shells; the feast was spread before the whole assemblage; wine flowed in abundance, and by degrees conversation, laughter, and merriment became universal and the banquet-hall echoed with the carousal of the ghostly throng. Under the influence of the good cheer Tomosaburo's apprehension and alarm of his weird environment gradually wore off, he partook freely of the refreshments, and associated himself more and more with the gaiety and joviality of the evening's revel. * * * * * The night wore on and when the hour of midnight struck the banquet was at its height. In the mirth and glamour of that strange marriage feast Tomosaburo had lost all track of time, when suddenly the clear sound of a cock's crow penetrated his clouded brain and, looking up, the transparency of the _shoji_[4] of the room began to slowly whiten in the grey of dawn. Like a flash of lightning Tomosaburo and his wife found themselves transported back, safe and sound, into their own room. On reflection he found his better nature more and more troubled by such an uncanny experience, and he spent much time pondering over the matter, which seemed to require such delicate handling. He determined that at all costs communications must be broken off with the importunate spirit. A few days passed and Tomosaburo began to cherish the hope that he had seen the last of the Spirit of the Lantern, but his congratulations on escaping her unwelcome attentions proved premature. That very night, no sooner had he laid himself down to rest, than lo! and behold, the lantern shot up in the familiar shaft of light, and there in the lurid glow appeared the spirit, looking more than ever bent on mischief. Tomosaburo lost all patience. Glaring savagely at the unwelcome visitant he seized his wooden pillow[5] and, determining to rid himself of her persecutions once and for all, he exerted his whole strength and hurled it straight at the intruder. His aim was true, and the missile struck the goblin squarely on the forehead, overturning the lantern and plunging the room into black darkness. "Wa, Wa!" wailed the spirit in a thin haunting cry, that gradually grew fainter and fainter till she finally disappeared like a luminous trail of vanishing blue smoke. From that very hour Tomosaburo's wife was again stricken with her former malady, and no remedies being of any avail, within two days it took a turn for the worse and she died. The sorrow-stricken husband bitterly regretted his impetuous action in giving way to that fatal fit of anger and, moreover, in appearing so forgetful of the past favour he had received from the spirit. He therefore prayed earnestly to the offended apparition, apologizing with humble contrition for his cruelty and ingratitude. But the Spirit of the Lantern had been too deeply outraged to return, and Tomosaburo's repentance for his rash impulse proved all in vain. These melancholy events caused the unhappy husband to take a strong aversion to the house, which he felt sure must be haunted, and he decided to leave that neighbourhood with as little delay as possible. As soon as a suitable dwelling was found and the details of his migration arranged, the carriers were summoned to transport his household goods to the new abode, but to the alarm and consternation of every one, when the servants attempted to move the furniture, the whole contents of the house by some unseen power adhered fast to the floor, and no human power was available to dislodge them. Then Tomosaburo's little son fell ill and died. Such was the revenge of the Spirit of the Lantern. [Footnote 1: 1513, date of Ota Dokan's death.] [Footnote 2: _Kago_ = palanquins.] [Footnote 3: _Horai Dai_, the Eastern fairyland, where death and sickness never come, and where the fabulous old couple of Takasayo, paragons of conjugal felicity and constancy, live for ever in the shade of the evergreen pines, while storks and green-tailed tortoises, emblems of prosperity and ten thousand years of life, keep them company.] [Footnote 4: _Shoji_, the sliding screens which takes the place of doors and windows in a Japanese house--the framework is of a fine lattice-work of wood, covered with white paper sufficiently transparent to let in the light.] [Footnote 5: The old Japanese pillow was a wooden stand, on the top of which was a groove; in this was placed a small roll of cotton-wool covered with silk or _crêpe_, etc.] THE REINCARNATION OF TAMA "Felt within themselves the sacred passion of the second life. Hope the best, but hold the Present fatal daughter of the Past. Love will conquer at the last." TENNYSON N.B.--It is a common Japanese belief that the soul may be re-born more than once into this world. A Buddhist proverb says: _Oya-ko, is-sé_ _Fufu wa, ni-sé_, _Shu ju wa, sansé_. Parent and child for one life; Husband and wife for two lives; Master and servant for three lives. Under the strong provocation of the passions of love, loyalty and patriotism, the soul may be reincarnated as many as seven times. The hero Hirose, before Port Arthur in 1904, wrote a poem during the last moments of his life saying that he would return seven times to work for his country. THE REINCARNATION OF TAMA Many years ago in Yedo,[1] in the district of Fukagawa, there lived a rich timber merchant. He and his wife dwelt together in perfect accord, but though their business prospered and their wealth increased as the years went by, they were a disappointed couple, for by the time they had reached middle age they were still unblessed with children. This was a great grief to them, for the one desire of their lives was to have a child. The merchant at last determined to make a pilgrimage to several temples in company with his wife, and to supplicate the gods for the long yearned-for joy of offspring. When the arduous tour was over they both went to a resort in the hills noted for its mineral springs, the woman hoping earnestly that the medicinal waters would improve her health and bring about the desired result. A year passed and the merchant's wife at last gave birth to a daughter. Both parents rejoiced that the Gods had answered their prayers. They reared the child with great care, likening her to a precious gem held tenderly in both hands, and they named her Tama, the Jewel. As an infant Tama gave promise of great beauty, and when she grew into girlhood she more than fulfilled that promise. Their friends all declared that they had never seen such loveliness, and people compared her to a morning-glory, besprinkled with dew and glowing with the freshness of a summer dawn. She had a tiny mole on the side of her snowy neck. This was her sole and distinguishing blemish. Tama, the Jewel, proved a gifted child. She acquired reading and the writing of hieroglyphics with remarkable facility, and in all her studies was in advance of girls of her own age. She danced with grace, and sang and played the _koto_ enchantingly, and she was also accomplished in the arts of flower-arrangement and the tea-ceremony. When she reached the age of sixteen her parents thought it was time to seek a suitable bridegroom for her. Very early marriages were the custom of the day, and besides that her parents wished to see her happily established in life before they grew older. As she was the only child, her husband would become the adopted son, and thus the succession to the family would be secured. However, it proved exceedingly difficult to find anyone who would meet all their requirements. Now it happened that near-by in a small house there lived a man by the name of Hayashi. He was a provincial _samurai_, but for some reason or other had left his Daimio's domain and settled in Yedo. His wife was long since dead, but he had an only son whom he educated in the refinements of the military class. The family was a poor one, for all _samurai_ were trained to hold poverty in high esteem; and to despise trade and money-making. Both father and son led simple lives and eked out their small patrimony by giving lessons in the reading of the classics and in calligraphy, and by telling fortunes according to the Confucian system of divination. Both were respected by all who knew them for their learning and upright lives. At the time this story opens the elder Hayashi had just died and the son, though only nineteen years of age, carried on his father's work. The young man was strikingly handsome. Of the aristocratic type, with long dark eyes, aquiline features and a pale, cream-like complexion, he attracted notice wheresoever he went, and though shabbily dressed he always bore himself with great dignity. He was a musician and played the flute with unusual skill, and the game of _go_[2] was his favourite pastime, a taste which made him very popular with older men. He often passed the rich merchant's house and Tama, the Jewel, noticed the young man coming and going with his flute. Questioning her nurse, she learned all there was to know about his history, his poverty, his scholarly attainments, his skill as a musician and the recent sorrow he had sustained in the death of his father. Besides being attracted by his good looks, the beautiful Tama's heart went out in sympathy to the young man in his misfortune and loneliness, and she asked her mother to invite him to the house as her music-master, so that they might play duets together--he performing on the flute to her accompaniment on the _koto_. The mother consented, thinking the plan an excellent one, and the young _samurai_ became a frequent visitor in the merchant's house. Tama's father was delighted when Hayashi proved to be an expert at _go_, and often asked him to come and spend the evening. As soon as dinner was over the merchant would order the chequer-board to be brought and Hayashi was then invited to try his hand at a game. In this way the intimacy deepened till by degrees the young man was treated like a trusted member of the family. The young master and pupil thus meeting day by day, presently fell in love, for heart calls to heart when both are young and handsome and the bond of similar tastes cements the friendship. Choosing themes and songs expressive of love they communicated their sentiments to one another through the romantic medium of music, and the two instruments blended in perfect harmony, the _koto's_ accompaniment giving an ardent response to the plaintive melody of the young man's flute, which wailed forth the hopeless passion consuming his soul for the lovely maiden. [Illustration: Tama's father was delighted when Hayashi proved to be an expert at _go,_ and often asked him to come and spend the evening] Tama's parents were totally unaware of all that was happening, but her nurse soon guessed the secret of the young couple. The woman, who loved her charge faithfully and devotedly, could not bear to see her unhappy, and foolishly helped the lovers to meet each other in secret. With these unexpected opportunities they pledged themselves to each other for all their lives to come, and tried to think of some way by which they could obtain the old people's consent to their marriage. But Hayashi guessed that the merchant was ambitious for his daughter, and knew that it was improbable that he would accept a son-in-law as poor and obscure as himself. So he postponed asking for her hand until it was too late. At this time a rich man whom Tama's parents deemed a suitable match for their daughter presented his proposals, and Tama was suddenly told that they approved of the marriage and that she must prepare for the bridal. Tama was overwhelmed with despair. That day Hayashi had promised to come and play his favourite game with her father. The nurse contrived that the lovers should meet first, and then Tama told Hayashi of the alliance which had been arranged. Weeping, she insisted that an elopement was the only solution to their difficulties. He consented to escape to some distant place with her that very night. Gathering her in his arms he tried to still her sobbing, and Tama clung to him, declaring that she would die rather than be separated from him. They were thus surprised by her mother, and their secret could no longer be concealed. Tama was taken from him gently but firmly and shut up like a prisoner in one room. The vigilance of the parents being in this manner rudely awakened, the mother never allowed the girl out of her sight, and Hayashi was peremptorily forbidden the house. The young man, fearing the wrath of her parents, went to live in another part of the city, telling no one of his whereabouts. Tama was inconsolable. She pined for her lover and soon fell ill. Her elaborate trousseau and the outfit for the bridal household was complete but the wedding ceremony had to be postponed. Both parents became very anxious for, as the days went by, instead of getting better their daughter visibly wasted away and sometimes could not leave her bed, so weak did she become. To distract her mind they took her to places of amusement like the theatre, or to gardens noted for the blossoming of trees and flowers. Then finally they carried her to places like Hakone and Atami, hoping that the mineral baths and the change of air and scene would cure her. But it was all to no purpose, Tama grew worse in spite of the devotion lavished upon her. Seriously alarmed, the parents called in a doctor. He declared Tama's malady to be love-sickness, and said that unless she were united to the man she pined for that she might die. Her mother now begged the father to allow the marriage with Hayashi to take place. Though he was not the man of their choice in worldly position, yet if their daughter loved him, it were better that she should marry him than that she should die. But now arose a difficulty of which they had not dreamed. Hayashi had moved away no one knew whither, and all their frantic efforts to trace him were fruitless. A year passed slowly by. When Tama was told that her parents had consented to her marrying her beloved, she brightened up with the hope of seeing him again, and appeared to regain her health for a short time. But as month followed month and he never came, the waiting and the sickening disappointment proved too much for the already weakened frame of the young girl. She drooped and died just as she had attained her seventeenth birthday. It was springtime when the sad event occurred. Hayashi had never forgotten the beautiful girl nor the vows they had mutually plighted, and he swore never to accept another woman as his wife. He longed for news of Tama, but he realized how imprudent and blameable his conduct had been in entering into a secret love-affair with a young girl, and he feared that her father might kill him were he to return even for a single day to the vicinity. Weakly he told himself that she had in all probability forgotten him by this time and was surely married to the man of her parents' choice. One fine morning he went fishing on the Sumida river. When evening began to fall he turned homewards. As he sauntered along the river embankment, the water lapping softly and dreamily at his feet, he was suddenly startled to see a girlish form coming towards him in the wavering shadows of declining day. Light as a summer zephyr she glided from under the arches of the blossom laden cherry-trees with the sunset flaming behind her. He remembered long afterward that she had seemed rather to float over the ground than to walk. To his utter astonishment he at once recognized Tama, and his heart leapt with joy at sight of her. After the first salutations he looked at her closely and congratulated her on her good health and ever-increasing beauty. He then asked her to tell him all that had happened since they were cruelly parted. In the saddest of tremulous voices Jewel answered: "After you left the house my old and devoted nurse was dismissed for having helped us to meet in secret. From that day to this I have never seen her, but she sent me word that she had returned to her old home." "Then you are not married yet?" asked Hayashi, his heart beating wildly with hope as he interrupted her. "Oh, no," replied Tama, looking at him strangely, "do you think that I could ever forget you? You are my betrothed forever, even after death. Do you not know that the dread of that marriage being forced upon me and my pining for you made me ill for a long time. Sympathizing with my unhappiness, my parents broke off my engagement and then tried to find you. But you had entirely disappeared leaving no trace behind. To-day I started out, resolved to find you with the help of my old nurse. I am on my way to her now. How happy I am to find you thus. Will you not take me to your house and show me where you live?" [Illustration: He was suddenly startled to see a girlish form coming towards him in the wavering shadows] She then turned and walked with him as he led the way to their humble dwelling. Now that her parents had consented to her marrying him they need not wait long, he told himself. How fortunate he was that he should have gained such faithful and unchanging love as that of his beautiful Tama. As they went along exchanging blissful confidences as to their undying love for one another, he told her of his oath never to wed another woman for her dear sake. They entered the house together, the nearness of her sweet presence thrilling him to his finger-tips. Impatiently he knelt to light the lamp, placed ready on his low writing table, then with joy inexpressible at the anticipation of all that the future held for them, he turned to speak to her. But to his utter bewilderment Tama was gone. He searched the house and garden, and with a lantern went and peered down the road, but she was nowhere to be seen. She had vanished as suddenly and mysteriously as she had appeared. Hayashi thought the incident more than strange; it was eerie in the extreme. Returning alone to his empty room, he shivered as a chill of foreboding seemed to penetrate his whole being, withering as with an icy breath the newly awakened impulses of hope and longing. A thousand recollections of his love crowded upon him, and kept him tossing uneasily upon his pillow all through the night. With the first break of dawn he was no longer able to control his feverish anxiety for news of her, and rising hurriedly, he at once set out for Fukagawa. Eagerly he hastened to the house of an old friend to make inquiries regarding the merchant's family and especially about Tama. To his dismay he learned that she had passed away but a few days before, and listened with an aching heart to the account of her long illness. And he knew that she had died for love of him. He returned to his home stupefied with grief and tormented with self-reproach. "Oh, Tama! Tama! My love!" he cried aloud in his anguish, as he threw himself down in his room and gave way to his despair. "Had I but known of your illness I would have come to you. It was your spirit that appeared to me yesterday. Oh! come to me again! Tama! Tama!" For weeks he was ill, but when he recovered and was able to think collectedly, he could not endure to live longer in such a world of misery. He felt that he was responsible for the untimely death of the young girl. To escape from the insupportable sorrows of life he decided to enter a Buddhist monastery, and joined the order of itinerant monks called _Komuso_.[3] Like the monks in the middle ages in Europe the _Komuso_ enjoyed sanctuary. They were chiefly _samurai_ who wished to hide their identity. Sometimes a breach of the law, such as the killing of a friend, obliged the _samurai_ to cut the ties which bound him to his Daimio; sometimes a family blood-feud forced him to spend his years in tracking down his enemy; sometimes it was disgust of the world, sorrow or disappointment, as in the case of Hayashi: these various reasons often caused men to bury themselves out of remembrance in the remote life of these wandering monks. The _Komuso_ were always treated with great respect, they enjoyed the hospitality of inns and ships, and a free pass unquestioned across all government barriers. They wore the stole but not the cassock, and they did not shave their heads like the priesthood. They were distinguished by their strange headgear, which was a wicker basket worn upside down, reaching as far as the chin and completely hiding the face. The rules of their order forbade them to marry, to eat meat, or to drink more than three cups of wine, and when on duty they might not take off their hats or bow to anyone, even to their parents. Outside these restrictions, though nominally priests, their lives were practically those of laymen, and when not on service they spent their time much as they liked in practising the military arts or in study. As a mental discipline the _Komuso_ were under obligation to go out daily to beg for alms, holding a bowl to receive whatever was bestowed upon them. They affected flute playing. This instrument was cut from the stem nearest the root, the strongest part of the bamboo, and was thus able to serve a double purpose. It gave the monk, who carried nothing with him, the means of earning his daily food, and when necessary was used as a weapon in self-defence. Hayashi, being skilful with his flute, chose the life of the _Komuso_ as being the best suited to him. Before leaving Tokyo he visited the temple where his lost love was buried and knelt before her tomb. He dedicated his whole life to praying for the repose of her soul and for a happier rebirth. Her _kaimyo_ (death-name) he inscribed on heavy paper, and wheresoever he went he carried this in a fold of his robe where it crossed his breast. It was, and still is, the custom of the _Komuso_ to perform upon the flute as a devotional exercise at religious services. As each year came round he always made his way to some tranquil spot and rested from his penitential wanderings on the anniversary of the death of Tama. Staying in an isolated room he then set up her _kaimyo_ in the alcove, and placing an incense burner before it, kindled the fragrant sticks and kept them alight from sunrise to sunset. Kneeling before this temporary altar he took out his flute, and pouring the passionate breath of his soul into the plaintive, quivering notes, he reverently offered the music to her sweet and tender spirit, remembering the delight she had always taken in those melodies before the blossom of their love had been defrauded of its fruit of consummation by the blighting blast of interference. [Illustration: Hayashi visits the temple where his lost love was buried, and dedicates his whole life to praying for the repose of her soul.] And gradually, as time went by, the burden of sorrow and the tumult of remorse slipped from his soul, and peace and serenity, the aftermath of suffering, came to him at last. He roamed all over the country for many years, and finally his journeyings brought him to the mountainous province of Koshu. It was nightfall when he reached the district and he lost his way in the darkness. Worn out with fatigue, he began to wonder where he should pass the night, for no houses were to be seen far or near, and everywhere about him there was nothing but a heaping of hills and a wild loneliness. For hours he strayed about, when at last, peering into the gloom far up on the mountain side, a solitary light gleamed through the heavy mists. Greatly relieved he hastened towards it. As soon as he knocked at the outer door of the cottage a ferocious looking man appeared. When the stranger asked for a night's shelter he morosely and silently showed him into the single room which, flanked by a small kitchen, comprised the whole dwelling. Hayashi, furtively gazing round him, noticed that there were no industrial implements to be seen, but that in one corner were standing a sword and a gun. The host clapped his hands. In answer to the call a young girl of about fifteen years of age appeared. He ordered her to bring the brazier and some food for the guest. Then arming himself with his weapons, he left the house. The damsel waited on Hayashi attentively, and as she went to and fro from the kitchen she often glanced appealingly at him. Her attitude was that of one frightened in submission, and Hayashi wondered how she came to be there, for, though begrimed with work, he could see that she was fair and comely, and her deportment was superior to her surroundings. When they were left alone the girl came and knelt before him, and bursting into tears sobbed out "Whoever you may be I warn you to escape while there is yet time. That man whose hospitality you have accepted is a brigand and he will probably kill you in the hope of plunder." Hayashi, with his heart full of compassion for the young girl, asked her how it was that she came to be living in so wild and desolate a place, and the tale she told him was a pitiful one of wrong. "My home is in the next province," she said, as she wiped away the tears with her sleeve. "Just after my father's death this robber entered our house and demanded money of my mother. As she had none to give him he carried me away, intending to sell me into slavery. Soon after he brought me to this house, he was wounded on a marauding expedition, and has since been confined to the house for a month. Thus it is that you find me here still. But he is now recovered and able to go out once more. I implore you to take me with you, otherwise I shall never see my mother again and my fate will be unendurable." Being of a chivalrous nature Hayashi's heart burned within him at the sad plight of the little maid, and catching her up he fled out of the robber's den into the night. After some time, when well away from the place, he set her down and they walked steadily all night. By dawn they had crossed the boundary of Koshu and entered the neighbouring province. Once on the high road the district was familiar to the girl and she gladly led the way to her own home. The delight of the sorrowing mother on finding her kidnapped child restored to her was great and unrestrained. She fell at his feet in a passion of gratitude and thanked him again and again. In the meantime the rescued girl came to thank her deliverer. Hayashi gazed at her in astonishment. Her appearance had undergone an extraordinary transformation. No longer the forlorn, neglected drudge of the day before, a beautiful girl stood before him. And wonder of wonders! She was the living image of what his lost Tama had been years ago. The tide of the past swept over him with its bitter-sweet memories, leaving him speechless and racked with the storm of his feelings. Not only was the likeness forcibly striking, but he also beheld a little mark, the exact replica of the one he so well remembered on Tama's snowy neck. He had thought that in the long years of hardship and renunciation of the joys of life the tragic love of his youth lay buried, but the shock of the unmistakable resemblance left him trembling. In a few minutes he was able to control his emotion and the power of speech returned to him. "Tell me," he said, turning to the mother, "have you not some relatives in Tokyo? Your daughter is like one whom I knew many years ago, but who is now dead." The woman regarded him searchingly and after a few moments of this close scrutiny, she inquired: "Are you not Hayashi who lived in Fukagawa fifteen years ago?" He was startled by the suddenness of the question, which showed that his identity was revealed and that she knew of his past. He did not answer but searched his brain, wondering who the woman could possibly be. Seeing his embarrassment she continued, now and again wiping the tears from her eyes: "When you came to the house I thought that your voice was in some way quite familiar to me, but you are so disguised in your present garb that at first I could not recall who you were. "Fifteen years ago I served in the house of the rich timber merchant in Fukagawa and often helped O Tama San[4] to meet you in secret, for I felt great sympathy with you both, and if a day passed without her being able to see you, Oh! she was very unhappy. Her parents were furious at the unwise part I had played and I was summarily dismissed. I returned home and was almost immediately married. Within a year I gave birth to a little daughter. The child bore a striking resemblance to my late mistress and I gave her the name of Jewel in remembrance of the beloved charge I had nursed and tended for so many years. As she grew older not only her face and figure, but her voice and her movements all vividly recalled O Tama San. Is not this an affinity of a previous existence that my child should be saved by you who loved the first Tama?" Then Hayashi, who had listened with rapt attention to the woman's strange story, asked her the date of the infant's birth. Marvellous to relate it was the very day and hour, for ever indelibly engraven on his memory, that Tama, his first love, had appeared to him on the bank of the Sumida river in the springtide fifteen years ago. When he told her of this uncanny meeting the woman said that she believed her daughter, the second Tama, to be the re-incarnation of the first Tama. The apparition he had seen was the spirit of his love who had thus announced her rebirth into the world to him. There could be no doubt of this, for had not Tama told him herself that she was on her way to her old nurse. So strong was the affinity that bound them to each other that it had drawn Tama from the spirit-land back to this earth. "Remember the old proverb, _the karma-relation is deep_," she added in conclusion. Later on she besought Hayashi to marry the second Tama, for she believed that only in this way would the soul of the first Tama find rest. But Hayashi, thinking that the great difference in their present ages was an obstacle to a happy union, refused on the score that he was too old and sad a man to make such a young bride happy. He decided, however, to stay on in the little household for a while, and to give any possible comfort and help to the old nurse whose loyal devotion to her mistress had figured so prominently and fatefully in his past. Thus several months elapsed, bringing with them great and radical changes in the land. The Restoration came to pass, and the new regime was established with the Emperor instead of the Shogun at the helm of State. Schools were founded all over the country, and amongst many other old institutions the order of the _Komuso_ monks, to which Hayashi belonged, was abolished by an edict of State. Hayashi, during his stay in the village, had won his way into the hearts of the people and they now begged him to remain as teacher in the new school, a position for which he was peculiarly fitted by the classical education he had received from his father. He consented to the proposition which solved the problem of his future, for under the new laws it was forbidden him to return to his old life. The mayor of the place was also much attracted by Hayashi's superior character and dignity, and learning of the sad and romantic history of his past, and believing, as all Japanese do, in predestined affinities, persuaded him that it was his fate, nay more, a debt he owed to the past, to marry Tama, the second, the re-incarnation of his first love. The marriage proved a blessed one. The house of Hayashi prospered from that day forth and as children were born to them the joy of their lives was complete. [Footnote 1: The old name for Tokyo.] [Footnote 2: _Go_, a game played with black and white counters--more complicated than chess.] [Footnote 3: The sect was introduced from China in the Kamakura epoch (1200-1400), but it never became popular in the land of its adoption. Under the Tokugawa Government (1700-1850) the _Komuso_ were used as national detectives, but the privileges they enjoyed led to the abuse of the order by bad men, and it was abolished at the time of the Restoration. Later on the edict was rescinded, and these men in their strange headgear may be seen to this day fluting their way about the old city of Kyoto.] [Footnote 4: In speaking women use the polite forms of speech, whereas men drop them. The "O" is the honorific prefix to a woman's name and "San" or "Sama" is the equivalent of Mr. Mrs. or Miss according to the gender of the name. Nowadays high-class women drop the "O" before their individual names, but add "Ko" after them. For instance, the name O Tama San would now be Tama-Ko San.] THE LADY OF THE PICTURE Many years ago, long before the present prosaic era, there lived in Yedo a young man named Toshika. His family belonged to the aristocratic rank of the _hatamoto samurai_, those knights who possessed the right to march to battle directly under the Shogun's flag (_hata_), and his father was a high official in the Tokugawa Shogunate. Toshika, whose disposition was of a dreamy and indolent nature with scholarly tastes, had no occupation. He took life easily, and when his studies were finished, he went to live at the family villa situated in the suburb of Aoyama. Toshika was not interested in society, and except for an occasional visit to his home or to his favourite friend, he never went anywhere. Far from the world he spent his days quietly and pleasantly, reading books, tending and watering his flowers, practising the tea-ceremony, and composing poetry and playing on the flute. He was a young man of many accomplishments and studied art. He collected curios and specimens of well-known calligraphy, which all Japanese prize greatly, and he particularly delighted in pictures. One day a certain friend whom Toshika had not seen for several months, came to call upon him. He had just returned from a visit to the seaport of Nagasaki and knowing the young man's tastes had brought with him, as a present, a Chinese drawing of a beautiful woman, which he begged Toshika to accept. Toshika was very pleased with this acquisition to his treasures. He examined the painting carefully, and though he could find no signature of the artist, his knowledge of the subject told him that it was probably drawn by the well-known Chinese painter of the _Shin_ era. It was the portrait of a young woman in the prime of youth, and Toshika felt intuitively that it was a real likeness. The face was one of radiant loveliness, and the longer he gazed at it, the more the charm and fascination of it grew upon him. He carried it to his own room and hung it up in the alcove. Whenever he felt lonely he retired to the solitude of his chamber, and sat for hours before the drawing, looking at it and even addressing it. As the days went by, gradually the picture seemed to glow with life and Toshika began to think of it as a person. He wondered who the original of the portrait could have been, and said that he envied the artist who had been granted the happiness of looking upon her beauty. Daily the figure seemed more alive and the face more exquisite, and Toshika, as he gazed in rapture upon it, longed to know its history. The haunting pathos of the expression and the speaking wistfulness of the dark soft eyes called to his heart like music and gave him no peace. Toshika, in fact, became enamoured of the lovely image suspended in the alcove, and as the infatuation grew upon him he placed fresh flowers before it, changing them daily. At night he had his quilts[1] so arranged that the last thing he looked upon before closing his eyes in sleep was the lady of the picture. Toshika had read many strange stories of the supernatural power of great artists. He knew that they were able to paint the minds of the originals into their portraits, whether of human beings or of creatures, so that through the spiritual force of the merit of their skill the pictures became endowed with life. As the passion grew upon him the young lover believed that the spirit of the woman whom the portrait represented actually lived in the picture. As this thought formed itself in his mind he fancied that he could see the gentle rise and fall of her breast in breathing, and that her pretty lips, bright as the scarlet pomegranate bud, appeared to move as if about to speak to him. One evening he was so filled with the sense of the reality of her presence that he sat down and composed a Chinese poem in praise of her beauty. And the meaning of the high-flown diction ran something like this; _Thy beauty, sweet, is like the sun-flower:_[2] _The crescent moon of three nights old thy arched brows: Thy lips the cherry's dewy petals at flush of dawn:_ _Twin flakes of fresh-fallen snow thy dainty hands._ _Blue-black, as raven's wing, thy clustering hair:_ _And as the sun half peers through rifts of cloud,_ _Gleams through thy robes the wonder of thy form._. _Thy cheeks' dear freshness do bewilder me,_ _So pure, so delicate, rose-misted ivory:_ _And, like a sharp sword, pierce my breast_ _The glamour of thy dark eyes' messages_. _Ah, as I gaze upon thy pictured form_ _I feel therein thy spirit is enshrined_, _Surely thou liv'st and know'st my love for thee!_ _The one who unawares so dear a gift bestowed_ _Was verily the gods' own messenger_ _And sent by Heaven to link our souls in one_. _'Tis sad that thou wert borne from thine own distant land_ _Far from thy race, and all who cherished thee;_ _Thy heart must lonely pine so far away,_ _In sooth thou need'st a mate to love and cherish thee._ _But sorrow not, my picture love,_ _For Time's care-laden wings will never dim thy brow_ _From poisoned darts of Fate so placidly immune;_ _Anguish and grief will ne'er corrode thy heart,_ _And never will thy beauty suffer change:_ _While earthly beings wither and decay_ _Sickness and care will ever pass thee by,_ _For Art can grant where Love is impotent,_ _And dowers thee with immortality_. _Ah me! could the high gods but grant the prayer_ _Of my wild heart, and passionate desire!_ _Step down from out thy cloistered niche,_ _Step down from out thy picture on the wall!_ _My soul is thirsting for thy presence fair_ _To crown my days with rapture--be my wife!_ _How swift the winged hours would then pass by_ _In bliss complete, and lovers' ecstasy:_ _My life, dear queen, I dedicate to thee,_ _Ah! make it thus a thousand lives to me!_[3] Toshika smiled to himself at the wild impossibility of his own chimera. Such a hope as he had breathed to her and to himself belonged to the realm of reverie, and not to the hard world of everyday life. Supposing that beautiful creature to have ever lived and the portrait to be a true likeness of her, she must have died ages ago, long before ever he was born. However, having written the poem carefully, he placed it above the scroll and read it aloud, apostrophizing the lady of the picture. It was the delicious season of spring, and Toshika sat with the sliding screens open to the garden. The fragrance of peach blossoms was wafted into the room by the breath of a gentle wind, and as the light of day faded into a soft twilight, over the quiet and secluded scene a crescent moon shed her tender jewel-bright radiance. Toshika felt unaccountably happy, he could not tell why and sat alone, reading and thinking deep into the night. Suddenly, in the stillness of the midnight, a rustle behind him in the alcove caused him to turn round quickly. What was his breathless amazement to see that the picture had actually taken life. The beautiful woman he so much admired detached herself from the paper on which she was depicted, stepped down on to the mats, and came gliding lightly towards him. He scarcely dared to breathe. Nearer and nearer she approached till she knelt opposite to where he sat by his desk. Saluting him she bowed profoundly. The ravishment of her beauty and her charm held him speechless. He could not but look at her, for she was lovelier than anyone he had ever seen. At last she spoke, and her voice sounded to him like the low, clear notes of the nightingale warbling in the plum-blossom groves at twilight. "I have come to thank you for your love and devotion. Such a useless, ugly[4] creature as myself ought not to be so audacious as to appear before you, but the virtue of your poem was irresistible and drew me forth. I was so moved by your sympathy that I felt I must tell you in person of my gratitude for all your care and thought of me. If you really think of me as you have written, let me stay with you always." Toshika rejoiced greatly when he heard these words. He put out his hand and taking hers said, "Ever since you came here I have loved you dearly. Consent to be my wife and we shall be happy evermore. Tell me your name and who you are and where you come from." She answered with a smile inexpressibly sweet, while the tears glistened in her eyes. "My name is Shorei (Little Beauty). My father's name is Sai. He was descended from the famous Kinkei. We lived in China at a place called Kinyo. One day, when I was eighteen years of age, bandits came and made a raid on our village and, with other fair women, carried me away. Thus I was separated from my parents and never saw them more. For many months I was carried from place to place and led a wandering life. Then, alas! who could have foretold it, I was seized by bad men and sold into slavery. The sorrow, the anguish and the horror I suffered in my helpless misery and homesickness you can never know. I longed every hour of the day for some tidings of my parents, for even now, I do not know what became of them. One day an artist came to the house of my captivity and looking at all the women there, he praised my face and described me as the Moon among the Stars. And he painted my picture and showed it to all his friends. In that way I became famous, for everyone talked of my beauty and came to see me. But I could not bear my life, and being delicate, my unhappy lot and the uncertainty of my father's and mother's fate preyed upon my mind, so that I sickened and died in six months. This is the whole of my sad history. And now I have come to your country and to you. This must be because of a predestined affinity between us." The young man's heart was filled with compassion as he listened to the sorrowful tale of the unfortunate woman, who had told him all her woes. He felt that he loved her more than ever and that he must make up with his devotion for all the wretchedness she had suffered in the past. They then began to compose poems together, and Toshika found that Shorei had had a literary education, that she was an adept in calligraphy and every kind of poetical composition. And his heart was filled with a great gladness that he had found a companion after his own heart. They both became intensely interested in their poetical contest and as they composed they read their compositions aloud in turn, comparing and criticizing each other. At last, while Toshika was in the act of reciting a poem to Shorei, he suddenly awoke and found that he had been dreaming. Unable to believe that his delightful experiences were but the memories of sleep he turned to the alcove. His cherished picture was hanging there and the lovely figure was limned as usual in living lines upon the paper. Was it all a delusion? As he watched the exquisite face before him, recalling with questioning wonder the events of the evening before, behold! the sweet mouth smiled at him, just as Shorei had smiled in his vision. Impatiently he waited for the darkness, hoping that sleep would again bring Shorei to his side. Night after night she came to him in his dreams, but of his happy adventure he spoke to none. He believed that in some miraculous way the power of poetry had evoked the spirit of the portrait. Centuries ago this ill-fated woman had lived and died an untimely death, and his love led her back to earth through the medium of an artist's skill and his own verse. Six months passed and Toshika desired nothing more in life than to possess Shorei as his bride for all the years to come. [Illustration: When I was eighteen years of age, bandits ... made a raid on one village and ... carried me away.] He never dreamed of change, but at last, one night, Shorei came looking very sad. She sat by his desk as was her wont, but instead of conversing or composing she began to weep. Toshika was very troubled, for he had never seen her in such a mood. "Tell me," he said anxiously, "What is the matter? Are you not happy with me?" "Ah, it is not that," answered Shorei, hiding her face in her sleeve and sobbing; "never have I dreamed of such happiness as you have given me. It is because we are so happy that I cannot bear the pain of separation for a single night. But I must now leave you, alas! Our affinity in this world has come to an end." Toshika could hardly believe her words. He looked at her in great distress as he asked: "Why must we part? You are my wife and I will never marry any other woman. Tell me why you speak of parting?" "To-morrow you will understand," she answered mysteriously. "We may meet no more now, but if you do not forget me I may see you again ere long." Toshika had put out a hand and made as if to detain her, but she had risen and was gliding towards the alcove, and while he imploringly gazed at her she gradually faded from his sight and was gone. Words cannot describe Toshika's despair. He felt that all the joy of life went with Shorei, and he could not endure the idea of living without her. Slowly he opened his eyes and looked round the room. He heard the sparrows twittering on the roof, and in the light of dawn, as he thought, the night-lantern's flame dwindled to a fire-fly's spark. He rose and rolled back the wooden storm-doors which shut the house in completely at night, and found that he had slept late, that the sun was already high in the heavens. Listlessly he performed his toilet, listlessly he took his meal, and his old servants anxiously went about their work, fearing that their master was ill. In the afternoon a friend came to call on Toshika. After exchanging the usual formalities on meeting, the visitor suddenly said: "You are now of an age to marry. Will you not take a bride? I know of a lovely girl who would just suit you, and I have come to consult with you on the matter." Toshika politely but firmly excused himself. "Do not trouble yourself on my account, I pray you! I have not the slightest intention of marrying any woman at present, thank you," and he shook his head with determination. The would-be go-between saw from the expression of Toshika's face that there was little hope in pressing his suit that day, so after a few commonplace remarks he took his leave and went home. No sooner had the friend departed than Toshika's mother arrived. She, as usual, brought many gifts of things that she knew he liked, boxes of his favourite cakes and silk clothes for the spring season. Grateful for all her love and care, he thanked her affectionately and tried to appear bright and cheerful during her visit. But his heart was aching, and he could think of nothing but of the loss of Shorei, wondering if her farewell was final, or whether, as she vaguely hinted, she would come to him again. He said to himself that to hold her in his arms but once again he would gladly give the rest of his life. His mother noticed his preoccupation and looked at him anxiously many times. At last she dropped her voice and said: "Toshika, listen to me! Your father and I both think that you have arrived at an age when you ought to marry. You are our eldest son, and before we die we wish to see your son, and to feel sure that the family name will be carried on as it should be. We know of a beautiful girl who will make a perfect wife for you. She is the daughter of an old friend, and her parents are willing to give her to you. We only want your consent to the arrangement of the marriage." Toshika, as his mother unfolded the object of her visit, understood the meaning of Shorei's warning, and said to himself: "Ah, this is what Shorei meant--she foresaw my marriage, for she said that to-day I should understand; but she pledged herself at the same time to see me again--it is all very strange!" Feeling that his fate was come upon him he consented to his mother's proposal. She returned home delighted. She had had little doubt of her son's conformance to his parents' wishes, for he had always been of a tractable disposition. In anticipation, therefore, of his consent to the marriage, she had already bought the necessary betrothal presents, and the very next day these were exchanged between the two families. Toshika, in the meantime, watched the picture day by day. This was his only consolation, for Shorei, his beloved, visited him no more in his dreams. His life was desolate without her and his heart yearned for her sweet presence. Had it not been for her promise to come to him again he knew that he would not care to live. He felt, however, that she still loved him and in some way or other would keep her promise to him, and for this waited. Of his approaching marriage he did not dare to think. He was a filial son, and knew that he must fulfil his duty to his parents and to the family. [Illustration: When the bride was led into the room and seated opposite Toshika, what was his bewildering delight to see that she was ... the lady-love of his picture] As the days went by Toshika noticed that the picture lost by degrees its wonderful vitality. Slowly from the face the winning expression and from the figure the tints of life faded out, till at last the drawing became just like an ordinary picture. But he was left no time to pine over the mystery of the change, for a summons from his mother called him home to prepare for the marriage. He found the whole household teeming with the importance of the approaching event. At last the momentous day dawned. His mother, proud of the product of her looms, set out in array his wedding robes, handwoven by herself. He donned them as in a dream, and then received the congratulations of his relatives and retainers and servants. In those old days the bride and bridegroom never saw each other till the wedding ceremony. When the bride was led into the room and seated opposite Toshika, what was his bewildering delight to see that she was no stranger but the lady-love of his picture, the very same woman he had already taken to wife in his dream life. And yet she was not quite the same, for when Toshika, a few days later, joyfully led her to his own home and compared her with the portrait, she was even ten times more beautiful. [Footnote 1: The floor of the Japanese room is padded with special grass mats over two inches thick. On these the bed quilts are laid out at night and packed away in cupboards in the daytime.] [Footnote 2: _Prumus Umé_, or Plum blossom, the Japanese symbol of womanly virtue and beauty.] [Footnote 3: Rendered into English verse by my friend, Countess Iso-ko-Mutsu.] [Footnote 4: It is a Japanese custom for a woman to speak thus depreciatingly of herself.] [Illustration: Urasato's escape from the Yamana-Ya] URSATO, OR THE CROWN OF DAWN THE POSITION AT THE OPENING OF THE STORY Urasato and Tokijiro are lovers. The child, Midori, is born of this _liaison_. Tokijiro is a _samurai_ in the service of a Daimyo, and has charge of his lord's treasure department. He is a careless young man of a wild-oat-sowing disposition, and while entirely absorbed in this love affair with Urasato, a valuable _kakemono_, one of the Daimyo's heirlooms, is stolen. The loss is discovered and Tokijiro, who is held responsible, dismissed. To give Tokijiro the means of livelihood so that he may pursue the quest of the lost treasure, Urasato sells herself to a house of ill-fame, the Yamana-Ya by name, taking with her the child Midori, who is ignorant of her parentage. Kambei, the knave of a proprietor, is evidently a curio collector, and it is to be gathered from the context that the unfortunate young couple have some suspicion--afterwards justified--that by some means or other he has obtained possession of the _kakemono_--hence Urasato's choice of that particular house. Tokijiro's one idea is to rescue Urasato, to whom he is devoted, but for lack of money he cannot visit her openly, and Kambei, seeing in him an unprofitable customer, and uneasy about the picture, for which he knows Tokijiro to be searching, forbade him the house, and persecutes Urasato and Midori to find out his whereabouts, in order, probably, that he may have him quietly put out of the way. As in all these old love stories the hero is depicted as a weak character, for love of women was supposed to have an effeminizing and debasing effect on men and was greatly discouraged among the _samurai_ by the feudal Daimyo of the martial provinces. On the other hand, the woman, though lost, having cast herself on the altar of what she considers her duty--the Moloch of Japan--often rises to sublime heights of heroism and self-abnegation, a paradox only found, it is said, in these social conditions of Japan. Urasato reminds one of the beautiful simile of the lotus that raises its head of dazzling bloom out of the slime of the pond--so tender are her sentiments, so strong and so faithful in character is she, in the midst of misery and horror. This recitation, freely rendered into English from the chanted drama, tells the story of Urasato's incarceration, of the lover's stolen interviews, of the inadvertent finding of the picture, and of Urasato's and Midori's final escape from the dread Yamana-Ya. URSATO, OR THE CROW OF DAWN[1] The darkness was falling with the tender luminosity of an eastern twilight over the house; the sky was softly clouding, and a gentle wind sprang up and sighed through the pine-trees like a lullaby--the hush that comes at the end of the day with its promise of rest was over all the world, but in spite of the peaceful aspect of nature and of her surroundings, Urasato, as she came from her bath robed in _crêpe_ and silken daintiness, felt very unhappy. To her world the night brought no peace or rest, only accumulated wretchedness and woe. Midori, her little handmaid, followed her fair mistress upstairs, and as Urasato languidly pushed open the sliding screens of her room and sank upon the mats, Midori fetched the tobacco tray with its tiny lacquer chest and miniature brazier all aglow, and placed it by her side. Urasato took up her little pipe, and with the weed of forgetfulness lulled for a while the pain of longing and loneliness which filled her heart. As she put the tobacco in the tiny pipe-bowl and smoked it in one or two whiffs and then refilled it again, the tap, tap of the pipe on the tray as she emptied the ashes were the only sounds, interluded with sighs that broke the stillness. "Kachi," "Kachi," "Kachi" sounded the little pipe. Tokijiro, waiting hopelessly outside the fence in the cold, could not so forget his misery. He kept in the shadow so as not to be seen by the other inmates of the house, for if he were discovered he would lose all chance of seeing Urasato that evening and, perhaps, for ever. What might happen if these secret visits were discovered he dared not think. To catch one glimpse of her he loved he had come far through the snow, and after losing his way and wandering about for hours, he now found himself outside the house, and waited, tired and cold and miserable, by the bamboo fence. "Life," said Tokijiro, speaking to himself, "is full of change like a running stream. Some time ago I lost one of my lord's treasures, an old and valuable _kakemono_ of a drawing of a _garyobai_ (a plum-tree trained in the shape of a dragon). I ought to have taken more care of the property entrusted to me. I was accused of carelessness and dismissed. Secretly I am searching for it, but till now I have found no clue of the picture. I have even brought my troubles to Urasato, and made her unhappy about the lost treasure. Alas! I cannot bear to live longer. If I cannot see Urasato I will at least look upon little Midori's face once more and then take leave of this life for ever. The more I think, the more our mutual vows seem hopeless. My love for this imprisoned flower has become deeper and deeper, and now, alas! I cannot see her more. Such is this world of pain!" While Tokijiro thus soliloquized outside in the snow, Urasato in the room was speaking to her child-attendant, Midori. "Midori, tell me, are you sure no one saw my letter to Toki Sama yesterday?" "You need have no anxiety about that, I gave it myself to Toki Sama,"[2] answered Midori. "Hush," said Urasato, "you must not talk so loudly--some one might overhear you!" "All right," whispered the little girl, obediently. Leaving Urasato's side she walked over to the balcony and looking down into the garden she caught sight of Tokijiro standing outside the fence. "There, there!" exclaimed Midori, "there is Toki Sama outside the fence." When Urasato heard these words joy filled her breast, a smile spread over her sad face, her languor vanished, and rising quickly from her seat on the mats, she glided to the balcony and placing her hands on the rail leaned far out so that she could see Tokijiro. "Oh! Tokijiro San," she exclaimed, "you have come again at last, how glad I am to see you!" Tokijiro, on hearing her voice calling him, looked up through the pine branches and the tears sprang to his eyes at sight of her, for into the depths of love their hearts sank always deeper and the two were fettered each to each with that bond of illusion which is stronger than the threat of hell or the promise of heaven. "Oh!" said Urasato, sadly, "what can I have done in a former life that this should be insupportable without the sight of you? The desire to see you only increases in the darkness of love. At first, a tenderness, it spread through my whole being, and now I love--I love. The things I would tell you are as great in number as the teeth of my comb, but I cannot say them to you at this distance. When you are absent I must sleep alone, instead of your arm my hand the only pillow, while my pillow is wet with tears longing for you,--if only it were the pillow of _Kantan_[3] I could at least dream that you were by my side. Poor comfort 'tis for love to live on dreams!" As she spoke, Urasato leaned far out over the balcony, the picture of youth, grace and beauty, her figure supple and fragile as a willow branch wafted to and fro by a summer breeze, and about her an air of the wistful sadness of the rains of early spring. [Illustration: As she spoke, Urasato leaned far out over the balcony, the picture of youth, grace and beauty.] "Oh! Urasato!" said Tokijiro, sadly, "the longer I stay here the worse it will be for you. If we are discovered not only you, but Midori also will be punished, and as she does not know all how unhappy she will be, and what will you do then. Oh! misery!" Urasato, overcome with the bitterness of their troubles and the hopelessness of their situation, and as if to shield Midori, impulsively drew the child to her and, embracing her with tenderness, burst into tears. The sound of footsteps suddenly startled them both. Urasato straightened herself quickly, pushed the child from her, and wiped away her tears. Midori, always clever and quick-witted, rolled a piece of paper into a ball and threw it quickly over the fence. It was a pre-arranged signal of danger. Tokijiro understood and hid himself out of sight. The screen of the room was pushed aside and not the dreaded proprietor nor his shrew of a wife, but the kindly and indispensable hair-dresser, O[4] Tatsu, appeared. "Oh, courtezan," said the woman, "I fear that I have kept you waiting. I wanted to come earlier, but I had so many customers that I could not get away before. As soon as I could do so I left and came to you ... but, Urasato Sama, what is the matter? You have a very troubled face and your eyes are wet with tears ... are you ill? Look here, Midori, you must take better care of her and give her some medicine." "I wanted her to take some medicine," said Midori, "but she said she would not." "I have always disliked medicine and, as Midori tells you, I refused to take any. I don't feel well to-day, O Tatsu. I don't know why, but I don't even wish to have the comb put through my hair--so I won't have my hair dressed now, O Tatsu, thank you." "Oh," answered O Tatsu, "that is a pity--your hair needs putting straight--it is very untidy at the sides; let me comb it back and you will then feel better yourself, too--" "O Tatsu," said Urasato, hopelessly; "you say so, but--even if the gloom that weighs down my spirit were lifted and my hair done up and put straight both would fall again, and knowing this, I am unhappy." "Oh," replied O Tatsu, "the loosened hair-knot which troubles you is my work--come to the dressing-table ... come!" Urasato could not well refuse the kindly woman and reluctantly allowed herself to be persuaded. She sat down in front of the mirror, but her heart was outside the fence with Tokijiro, and to wait till the woman had done her work was a torture to her. "Listen to me," said O Tatsu, as she took her stand behind Urasato and with deft fingers put the disordered coiffure to rights, "people cannot understand the feelings of others unless they have themselves suffered the same conditions. Even I, in past times, was not quite as I am now. It seems foolish to speak of it, but I always feel for you. If you deign to listen to me I will tell you my story. Even such an ugly woman as I am--there is a proverb you know, that says 'Even a devil at eighteen is fascinating' (_oni mo juhachi_)--has had her day, and so there was someone who loved even me, and he is now my husband," and O Tatsu laughed softly, "ho-ho-ho." "Well, we plighted our vows and loved more and more deeply. At last he was in need of money and came to borrow of me, saying 'Lend me two _bu!_'[5] or 'Lend me three _bu!_' using me in those days only as his money-box. It must have been because our fate was determined in our previous life that I did not give him up. I let things go because I loved him. Youth does not come twice in a life-time. He was in great distress and I sold all my clothes to help him till my _tansu_[6] were empty, and then I filled them with his love letters. Things came to such a pass that we thought of committing suicide together. But a friend who knew what we were about to do stopped us, and so we are alive to this day. But things have changed since then, and now, when there is some small trouble, my husband tells me he will divorce me, and there are times when I feel I hate him and don't want to work for him any more. There is a proverb that 'the love of a thousand years can grow cold,' and it is true. Experience has taught me this." [Illustration: O Tatsu ... took her stand behind Urasato and with deft fingers put the disordered coiffure to rights] "O Tatsu Sama," answered Urasato, "in spite of all you say, I have no one to love me in this wide world, such an unfortunate creature as I am, so devotedly as you loved him." "You may think thus now," said O Tatsu, "for you have reached the age of love's prime. I know that people in love's despair often cut short their own lives, but while you have Midori to think of you cannot, you must not, commit suicide. Duty and love exist only while there is life. Oh dear, I have talked so much and so earnestly that I have forgotten to put in the _tsuto-naoshi_," and with the last finishing touches O Tatsu put in the pincer-like clasp which holds together the stray hair at the nape of the neck. Urasato's eyes were dry, though her heart was full of sympathy and sorrow as she listened to O Tatsu's kind words of sympathy, and as a bedimmed mirror so was her soul clouded with grief. Midori, touched by the sad conversation, dropped tears as she flitted about over the mats, putting away the comb box here and a cushion straight there. "Well," said O Tatsu, as she bowed to the ground and took her leave, "I am going yonder to the house of Adzumaya, good-bye!" and with these words she glided down the stairs and went out by the side door. Looking back as she did so, she called to Midori: "Look here, Midori, I am going out by the side gate instead of by the kitchen--will you please fasten it after me." With these words she seized the astonished Tokijiro, who was hiding in the shadow, pushed him inside and shut the gate (_pattari_) with a snap. With an unmoved face as if nothing unusual had occurred, O Tatsu put up her umbrella, for snow had begun to fall, lighted her little lantern and pattered away across the grounds without once looking back. Thus, through the compassionate help of another, Tokijiro was at last enabled to enter the house. He ran upstairs quickly, and entering the room, caught hold of Urasato's hand. "Urasato! I cannot bear our lot any longer. I cannot bear to live away from you--at last I am able to tell you how I long to die with you since we cannot belong to each other any longer. But if we die together thus, what will become of poor little Midori. What misery--oh, what misery! No--no--I have it; you shall not die--I alone will die; but oh! Urasato, pray for the repose of my soul!" "That would be too pitiless," said Urasato, while the tears fell like rain from her eyes, "if you die to-night what will become of our faithful little Midori and myself left behind? Let parents and child take hands to-night and cross the river of death together. We will not separate now, oh, no--no! Oh! Tokijiro San! you are too cruel to leave us behind." Some one was now heard calling from below. "Urasato Sama! Urasato Sama!" said a loud harsh voice, "come downstairs--you are wanted quickly, quickly--come!" Then the sound of a woman's feet as she began to ascend the stairs reached the three inmates of the room. Urasato's heart beat wildly and then seemed to stop with fright. Quick as a flash of lightning she hid Tokijiro in the _kotatsu_[7] and Midori, with her usual quick-wittedness, fetched the quilt and covered him over. Then she glided to the other side of the room. All this was the work of a moment. "O Kaya San," said Urasato, "what is the matter? What are you making such a fuss about? What do you want with me now?" "Oh! Urasato," answered the woman as she entered the room, "you pretend not to know why I call you. The master has sent for you--Midori is to come with you--such is his order!" Urasato made no answer, but followed O Kaya, who had come to fetch her. Anxiety for Tokijiro hidden in the _kotatsu_, and fear concerning what the sudden summons might mean made her heart beat so that she knew not what to do. Both she and Midori felt that the woman was like a torturing devil driving them along so much against their will--they seemed to feel her fierce eyes piercing them through from behind. O Kaya led them across the garden to another part of the house. The soft twilight had been succeeded by a dreary night. It was February and the night wind blew sharp and chill--the last snow of winter weighed down the bamboos; while, like an emblem of courage and strength in the midst of adversity, the odour of early plum blossoms hung upon the air. Overcome with anxiety, Urasato felt only the chill, and fear of the night spread through her whole being. She started and shivered when behind her Midori's clogs began to echo shrilly, like the voices of malicious wood-sprites in the trees laughing in derision at her plight. Her heart grew thin with pain and foreboding. "Karakong," "karakong," sounded the clogs, as they scraped along. "Ho, ho, ho!" mocked the echoing sprites from the bamboo wood. They reached the veranda of the house on the other side of the quadrangle. O Kaya pushed open the _shoji_ disclosing the grizzled-headed master, Kambei, seated beside the charcoal brazier looking fierce and angry. When Urasato and Midori saw him, their heart and soul went out with fear as a light in a sudden blast. Urasato, however, calmed herself, and sitting down outside the room on the veranda, put her hands to the floor and bowed over them. The master turned and glared at her. "Look here, Urasato," said he, "I have nothing but this to ask you. Has that young rascal Tokijiro asked you for anything out of this house--tell me at once--is such the case? I have heard so--tell me the truth!" Urasato, frightened as she was, controlled herself and answered quietly: "Such are the master's honourable words, but I have no remembrance of anyone asking me for anything whatsoever." "Um," said the master, "I shan't get it out of you so easily I see," then turning to O Kaya, he said, "Here, O Kaya, do as I told you--tie her up to the tree in the garden and beat her till she confesses." O Kaya rose from the mats and catching hold of the weeping Urasato dragged her up and untied and pulled off her girdle. The woman then carried the slender girl into the garden and bound her up with rope to a rough-barked, snow-covered pine-tree, which happened to be just opposite Urasato's room. O Kaya, lifting a bamboo broom threateningly, said, "Sa! Urasato, you won't be able to endure this--therefore make a true confession and save yourself. How can you be faithful to such a ghost of a rascal as Tokijiro? I have warned you many times, but in spite of all advice you still continue to meet him in secret. Your punishment has come at last--but it is not my fault, so please do not bear me any resentment. I have constantly asked the master to pardon you. To-night, out of pity, I begged him to let you off, but he would not listen. There is no help for it, I must obey my orders. Come, confess before you are beaten!" So O Kaya scolded and entreated Urasato; but Urasato made no reply--she only wept and sobbed in silence. "You are an obstinate girl!" said O Kaya, and she lifted the broom to strike. Midori now rushed forward in an agony of distress and tried to ward off the blow about to fall on her beloved mistress. O Kaya flung the child away with her left arm, and bringing the broom down, began to beat Urasato mercilessly till her dress was disarranged and her hair fell down in disorder about her shoulders. Midori could bear the sight no longer. She became frantic, and running to the wretched Kambei, lifted praying hands to him: then back again she darted to catch hold of O Kaya's dress, crying out to both: "Please, forgive her; oh, please, forgive her! Don't beat her so, I implore you!" O Kaya, now fully exasperated, seized the sobbing child. "I will punish you too," and tied Midori's hands behind her back. Tokijiro, looking down from the balcony of Urasato's room, had been a distraught and helpless spectator of the whole scene of cruelty in the garden. He could now no longer restrain himself and was about to jump over the balcony to the rescue. But Urasato happened at that moment to look up and saw what he intended doing. She shook her head and managed to say, unheard by the others: "Ah! this, for you to come out, no, no, no!" Then, as O Kaya came back from tying up Midori, she quickly added to her, "No, I mean you who have tied up Midori, you must be pitying her, you must be, O Kaya San--but in the presence of the master for that reason it won't do! It won't do!" and here she spoke, purposely, incoherently to O Kaya, while she signed to Tokijiro with her eyes that he must not come out--that her words were meant for him under cover of being addressed to O Kaya. Tokijiro knew that he could do nothing--he was utterly powerless to help Urasato, and if he obeyed his first impulse and jumped down into the garden he would only make matters a thousand times worse than they were, so he went back to the _kotatsu_, and bit the quilt and wept with impotent rage. "She is suffering all this for my sake--oh! Urasato! oh! oh! oh!" Kambei had now reached Urasato's side, and catching hold of her by the hair, said in a big voice, "Does not your heart tell you why you are so chastized? It is ridiculous that Tokijiro should come in search of the _kakemono_ that was entrusted to me. Ha! you look surprised. You see I know all. Look! Isn't the picture hanging there in my room? I allow no one so much as to point a finger at it--Sa! Urasato, I am sure Tokijiro asked you to get him that--come--speak the truth now?" "I have never been asked to steal any such thing," answered Urasato, sobbing. "Oh, you obstinate woman--will nothing make you confess? Here, Midori--where is Tokijiro? Tell me that first?" "I don't know," answered Midori. "There is no reason why Midori should know what you ask," said Urasato, trying to shield the child. "Midori is always with you," said Kambei--"and she must know," and turning to Midori he struck her, saying: "Now confess--where is Tokijiro hiding now?" "Oh, oh, you hurt me," cried the child. "Well, confess then," said the cruel man, "then I won't hurt you any more!" "Oh ... Urasato," cried Midori, turning to her--"entreat the master to pardon me--if he kills me, before I die I can never meet my father whom I have never seen." Tokijiro, upstairs in the balcony, heard all that was going on and murmured: "That is, indeed, natural, poor child." But Kambei, unaware that he was heard and seen, beat the child again and again. "I can't make out what you say, little creature," he screamed with rage. "You shall feel the weight of this _tekki_[8] then we shall see if you will still not answer what is asked you." Under this hell-like torture Midori could scarcely breathe. The poor child tried to crawl away, but as she was bound with rope, she was unable to do so. The cruel man once more caught hold of her roughly by the shoulder and began to beat her again. At last the child gave a great cry of pain, lost consciousness, and fell back as though dead. Kambei was now alarmed at what he had done, for he had no intention of killing the child--only of making her tell him where Tokijiro was living or hiding. He stopped beating her and stood on one side, angry enough at being thwarted by Urasato and Midori. Urasato raised her head and moaned to herself as she looked at the prostrate child. "I am really responsible for the child's suffering," she said to herself--"my sin is the cause of it all; forgive me, my child--you know it not, but I am your mother; and although you are only a child you have understood and helped me. You saw that I was in love and always anxious about my lover. This is from a fault in your former life that you have such a mother--ah! this is all, alas, fruit of our sins in another existence," and Urasato's tears flowed so fast that, like spring rain, they melted the snow upon which they fell. O Kaya now came up to her, saying, "What an obstinate creature you are! If you don't confess you shall wander in company with your child to the _Meido_,"[9] and with these words she raised her broom to strike. Hikoroku, the clerk of the house, now came running upon the scene. He had fallen in love with Urasato and had often pressed his suit in vain. When he saw how matters stood he pushed O Kaya away. "You are not to help Urasato!" screamed O Kaya, angrily. "Go away, go away," said Hikoroku, "this punishment is the clerk's work--though I am only a humble servant, however humble I am I don't need your interference." Then Hikoroku turned to Kambei and said apologetically. "Excuse me, master, I have something to say to you; the matter is this--that dear Urasato--no, I mean Midori and Urasato--I never forget them, oh, no, no! I know their characters--they are good-hearted. This punishment is the clerk's work. If you will only leave Urasato to me I shall be able to make her confess. I am sure I can manage her. If you will make me responsible for making Urasato confess, I shall be grateful." Kambei nodded his head, he was already tired, and said: "Um--I would not allow anyone else to do this, but as I trust you Hikoroku, I will let you do it for a while; without fail you must make her confess, I will rest,"--and with these words he went into the house, intending to put the blame on Hikoroku if his regulation suffered because of his treatment of Urasato. Hikoroku accompanied his master to the house and bowed low as he entered. He then came back to Urasato. "Did you hear what the master said? Did he not say that he would not entrust this to anyone else but _me_--only to me--Hikoroku--don't you see what a fine fellow I am? If only you had listened to me before you need never have suffered so--I would have helped you, Urasato San! Perhaps you suspect me as being to blame for all this; but no--indeed, I am not--you and I are living in another world. Will you not listen to me--Urasato San?--but oh!--you have a different heart--oh! what am I to do?" and he placed his hands palm to palm and lifted them despairingly upwards to Urasato, shaking them up and down in supplication. O Kaya had been listening to Hikoroku, for she was in love with him herself and was always jealous of the attention he paid to Urasato. She now came up and said, as she shrugged her shoulders from side to side: "Now Hikoroku Sama--what are you doing? What are you saying? Notwithstanding your promise to the master to make Urasato confess, you are now talking to her in this way. Whenever you see Urasato you always act like this without thinking of me or my feelings for you. I am offended--I can't help it! You will probably not get her to confess after all. Well--I will take your place, so go away!" As O Kaya came up to Hikoroku he pushed her away, saying: "No, never! You shall not hurt her--this is not your business--the master has entrusted it to me. As for you, it is ridiculous that you should love me. How ugly you are! Ugh!--your face is like a lion's. Are you not ashamed. Before the master I have no countenance left when I think of what you say to me. Now then--go away O Kaya--I am going to untie poor Urasato!" O Kaya tried to push Hikoroku away. Hikoroku took up the broom and beat her without caring how much he hurt her. Mercilessly did he continue to beat her till she was overcome and, falling down on the snow, lay stunned for some time to come. Having thus got rid of O Kaya, Hikoroku quickly released Urasato and Midori. As he lifted the child up she opened her eyes. "Ya, ya! Are you still there, mother?" Did Midori know that Urasato was her mother, or on returning to consciousness was it instinct or affection that made her use the tender name? When she heard Midori's voice, Urasato felt that she must be in a dream, for she had feared that the child had been killed by Kambei's beating. "Are you still alive?" she exclaimed, and caught the child in her arms while tears of joy fell down her pale cheeks. Hikoroku looked on with a triumphant face, for he was pleased at what he had done. "Urasato Sama, you must run away, and now that I have saved you both I can't stay here. I, too, shall be tied up and punished for this. I shall run away, too! Well, it is certainly better to escape with you than to remain here. Let us flee together now. Come with me. I must get my purse, however, before I go. Please wait here till I come back with my small savings--then I can help you; don't let anyone find you," and without waiting for Urasato's answer Hikoroku ran into the house. Urasato and Midori stood clasping each other under the pine tree. They were shaking with cold and fatigue and pain. Suddenly a sound made them look up. Tokijiro suddenly stood before them. He had climbed out on to the roof, and walking round the quadrangle, had reached the spot where they stood and then let himself down by the pine-tree. When the two saw him they started for joy. "Oh," said Urasato, scarcely able to make herself heard, "how did you get here, Tokijiro?" "Hush," said Tokijiro, "don't speak so loudly. I have heard and seen all--oh! my poor Urasato, it has caused me much pain to think that you have suffered so much because of me; but in the midst of all this misery there is one thing over which we can rejoice. As soon as I heard what Kambei said about the _kakemono_ I crept downstairs and into the room he pointed out, and there I found my lord's long-lost picture. Look, here it is! I have it safe at last. The very one drawn by Kanaoka. Someone must have stolen it. I am saved at last--I am thankful. I shall be received back into my lord's service--I owe this to you, and I shall never forget it as long as I live." Footsteps were heard approaching, Tokijiro hid himself behind a post of the gate. He was only just in time. Hikoroku came stumbling along across the garden from the other side of the house. "Here, here, Urasato San, we can now fly together--I have got my money--we can get out by the gate. Wait another moment, I will steal in and get the picture for you." As soon as Hikoroku had gone again Tokijiro rushed forward, and seizing Urasato and Midori by the hand, hurried them out of the garden. Once outside they felt that they had escaped from the horror and death of the tiger's mouth. Hikoroku, not being able to find the picture, hastened back to the spot where he had left Urasato, when he ran into O Kaya, who had recovered consciousness, and now picked herself up from the ground somewhat bewildered and wondering what had happened. "Are you Hikoroku? Are you Hikoroku?" she exclaimed, and caught him in her arms. Catching sight of her face, Hikoroku cried out with disgust and horror. "Ya! Avaunt evil! Avaunt devil!" The three fugitives outside the gate heard Hikoroku's exclamation. Tokijiro caught up Midori and put her on his back. Then he and Urasato taking each other by the hand ran away as fast as they could. The dawn began to break and the birds to sing as they left the dread place behind them. From far and near the crows began to wing their way across the morning sky. Hitherto _the crow of dawn_ had parted them--it now united them. Thinking of this, Tokijiro and Urasato looked at each other with eyes brimming over with tears, yet shining with the light of new-born hope. [Footnote 1: The Crow of Dawn, or _Akegarasu_, another name for the story of _Urasato_. _Akegarasu_, literally rendered means "Dawn-Crow." It is an expression which typifies the wrench of parting at daybreak which lovers like Tokijiro and Urasato experience, when dawn comes heralded by the croak of a crow (_karasu_) flying across the half-lit sky--a sign that the time for the two to separate has come. This story is taken from the _Gidayu_ or musical drama, in which the chanter mimes the voices and actions of the many different characters to an accompaniment on the _samisen_ (guitar or banjo).] [Footnote 2: Sama, a title equivalent to Mr. It is a polite term used for both men and women.] [Footnote 3: This is an allusion to a Chinese story, related in the musical drama, where a poor man of Kantan fell asleep and dreamed that he became Emperor and had all that he could desire.] [Footnote 4: O is the honorific placed before female names of not more than two syllables.] [Footnote 5: One _bu_ was about twenty-five sen in those days, but the equivalent of more than a yen in the present currency.] [Footnote 6: _Tansu_, Japanese chest of drawers.] [Footnote 7: A hearth sunk in the floor, covered with a grating and framework over which is thrown a quilt under which people sit to warm themselves.] [Footnote 8: _Tekki_, the tiny metal bars which form the top of the andirons in a brazier.] [Footnote 9: _Meido_, Hades--the abode of the dead.] TSUBOSAKA A story of Faith in Kwannon, the Manifestation of Mercy (popularly known as the Goddess of Mercy) N.B.--The Amida Buddha of the Shinshu sects of Japanese Buddhism is the only Deity, and the Original and the Unoriginated Buddha, Lord of Boundless Life and Light. Amida promises to all, who with full trust and confidence draw near and invoke His name, the safe Heaven of freedom from sin and evil. KWANNON is the Embodiment of Amida's Compassion, capable of manifestation in many shapes for purposes of practical succour. He is never manifested except for a suffering creation. The late Professor Lloyd says that it is a mistake to speak of Kwannon as a female deity, that he is the son of Amida, capable of appearing in many forms, male or female, human or animal, according to circumstances. See "_Shinran and his Work_" (Lloyd, p. 21). TSUBOSAKA The shrine of Tsubosaka, where this popular story is placed, has been celebrated for answers to prayers from ancient times. Tradition relates that when the fiftieth Emperor Kwammu lived in the capital of Nara, he was smitten with eye trouble. The head priest, Doki Shonin, of the Tsubosaka shrine offered up prayers to Kwannon, the Manifestation of Mercy, for one hundred and seven days for the Emperor's recovery. The prayer was efficacious and His Majesty's sight was restored. Since that time Tsubosaka has been known as a holy place to which pilgrims journey to pray for blessings and especially for health in time of illness. In a certain village in the province of Yamato in Japan, close by the hill of Tsubo, there lived a blind man named Sawaichi and his wife, O Sato. Sawaichi was a honest, good-natured fellow, who earned a bare living by giving lessons on the _koto_[1] and _samisen_.[2] O Sato was a faithful loving woman, who by washing and sewing, and such odd work, earned many an honest penny towards the maintenance of their poor little home. For some time things had not gone well with the couple; they were growing poorer and poorer, and even the joyful singing of birds, and the sound of the temple bell, near by, emphazised their own wretchedness, and filled their souls with melancholy. One morning Sawaichi got out his _samisen_, and striking some chords, began to play. "Oh, Sawaichi San, what are you doing?" said O Sato, "I am glad to see that you feel in better spirits to-day. It is good to hear you play the _samisen_ again," and she laughed as cheerfully as she could. "Oh, oh, O Sato, do I look as if I were playing the _samisen_ for amusement? Indeed, I am in no such mood. I am so depressed that I wish I could die. Nay, I am so choked with trouble that I feel as if I were going to die. Now, O Sato, I have something to say that I have been brooding over for a long time, so please sit down and listen to me." O Sato sank softly on the mats near Sawaichi, and as she looked at the blind man, trying tenderly and carefully to divine what was troubling him, she saw that he was unusually moved, and the tears of pity rose to her eyes. Sawaichi cleared his throat, after waiting for a moment, and then went on: "How rapid is the passing of time. The proverb is true that 'Time flies like an arrow.' Three years have passed since our marriage, and I have meant to ask you this many times, O Sato! Why do you hide your secret from me so long? We have been betrothed since our youth upward, and we know each other well. There is no need of secrecy between us. Why not tell me your secret frankly?" O Sato stared at him helplessly. She could not in the least understand what was the meaning of these mysterious words. At last she said, hesitatingly: "Whatever is the matter with you to-day, Sawaichi San? What are you talking about? I don't in the least understand. In the whole of our married life I have never had any secret to keep from you. If you find anything in me that does not please you, tell me, and I will try to mend. Is not this the way between husband and wife?" "Well, then," said Sawaichi, "I will tell you all since you ask me." "Tell me everything," said O Sato, "whatever it is that is troubling you. I cannot bear to think that you are unhappy," and she drew closer to her poor blind husband. "Oh, oh, O Sato, I will tell you all--I cannot bear it longer. It hurts me. Listen carefully! We have been married just three years now. Every night between three and four o'clock I awake, and stretch out my arms to you as you lie in your bed, but I have never been able to find you, not even once. I am only a poor blind fellow and smallpox has disfigured me hopelessly. It is quite natural that you cannot love such an ugly creature as myself. I do not blame you for this. But if you will only tell me plainly that you love another, I will not be angry with you, only tell me! I have often heard people say, 'O Sato is a beautiful woman!' It is, therefore, natural that you should have a lover. I am resigned to my fate and shall not be jealous, therefore tell me the truth--it will be a relief to know it." It was a pitiful sight to see the afflicted man, for though he spoke quietly and with evident resignation, yet the despair in his heart caused the tears to overflow his sightless eyes. O Sato could not bear to see her husband racked by these terrible doubts. His words pierced her heart with pain. She clung to him sorrowfully. "Oh, Sawaichi San! how cruel your suspicions are'! However low and mean I may be, do you think that I am the kind of woman to leave you for another man? You are too unjust to say such things. As you know, my father and mother died when I was a child, and my uncle, your father, brought us up together. You were just three years older than I. While we were thus growing up as boy and girl together, you took smallpox and became blind, alas! and your misfortunes accumulating, you were reduced to poverty. But even so, once betrothed, I will go through fire and water with you, and nothing shall ever part us. Not only do I feel that we are united till death, but it has been my one great hope to cure your blindness. To this end, ever since we were wedded, I have risen with the dawn and left the room stealthily, not wishing to disturb you. Thinking nothing of the steep mountain road, I have climbed to the top of Tsubosaka every morning before it was light to pray to Kwannon Sama to restore your sight. Lately I have felt disappointed with Kwannon Sama, for my prayer is never answered, though I have prayed earnestly for three years, rising before the dawn to climb to her temple on the hill. Knowing nothing of all this you condemn me as being faithless to you. It makes me angry, Sawaichi San!" and here poor O Sato burst into tears and sobbed aloud. Sawaichi realized how false his suspicions had been, and how unworthy they were of his devoted wife. At first he could not speak but stammered pitifully. At last he found his voice and burst out: "Oh, my wife, my wife! I will say nothing more. I have talked nonsense like the poor blind fellow that I am. Forgive me, forgive me! How could I know what was in your heart?" and here he joined his hands together, raising them in a gesture of entreaty, and then, with his sleeve, wiped away the tears from his eyes. "Ah--no, no--not this! Do not ask pardon of your own wife, it is too much!" said O Sato, in distress. "I can face even death if your doubts are dispelled." "The more you say, the more I am ashamed before you. Though you pray so earnestly, O Sato, my eyes will never recover their sight." "What are you saying? Oh! what are you saying?" exclaimed O Sato. "It is only for you that I have borne all this, walking barefoot to the Shrine of Kwannon Sama every day for three years, thinking nothing of the wind or snow or frosts these wintry dawns." "I am, indeed, grateful to you for your devotion. But as I harboured suspicions of you for a long time, thinking evil of your good, even if I pray, my prayers to Kwannon can only be rewarded by punishment, and my eyesight will never be restored." "No, no, Sawaichi San, do not say such things," answered O Sato. "My body is the same as your body. Talk nonsense no more, but control your mind with firmness and come with me to Kwannon Sama and let us pray together." Sawaichi rose from the mats, the tears falling from his eyes. "Oh, my good wife, I am indeed grateful to you. If you are so determined I will follow. It is said that the grace of Buddha can make a dead tree to blossom. My eyes are like a dead tree ... oh, oh, if only they might blossom into sight! But though I am a great sinner ... who knows? Perhaps in the next world? .. Now my wife, lead me as ever by the hand!" O Sato busied herself opening the _tansu_ and getting out Sawaichi's best clothes. She helped him to change, speaking encouraging words the while. Then they set out together and climbed the steep ascent of Tsubosaka, Sawaichi leaning on the staff in his right hand. The couple at last reached the temple, breathless after the hard climb. "Here we are, Sawaichi San," said O Sato, "we have come to the temple, we are now before the gate ... though prayer and devotion are important in the recovery of health, they say illness is often due to nerves. If you allow yourself to be so low-spirited, your eyes will only grow worse. Therefore, at such a time, how would it be for you to sing some song to cheer yourself?" "Yes, yes, O Sato, as you say, anxious brooding over my troubles is not good for my eyes. I will sing some song." Then beating time with his stick tapping the ground, he began to hum: "Chin--chin--tsu: chin--chin: tsu--chin--chin--tsu," tinkling in imitation of the _samisen_. Sawaichi cleared his throat and began to sing: _Is suffering the cause of love?_ _Or love the cause of suffering?_ _My love must vanish like the dew ..._ _Aita ... ta ... ta ..._ The words of the song were suddenly broken by a cry of pain as Sawaichi entered the gate of the temple and tripped on a stone. "Oh, dear, I nearly fell over that stone ... I have forgotten the rest of the song ... what does it matter now ... ho--ho--ho," and he laughed to himself strangely and softly. They had by this time come to the main temple and stood outside, O Sato gazing at the altar where Amida Buddha and Kwannon, the Manifestation of Mercy, reigned above the lotus flowers in the fragrant mists of incense. "Sawaichi San, we have now come to Kwannon Sama." "Oh, indeed! Are we already there?" answered Sawaichi, "how grateful I am!" then turning his sightless face towards the altar he lifted beseeching hands, and bowing his head reverently, he repeated the Buddhist invocation: "_Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Dai Butsu!_" (All hail, Great Buddha!) "Listen, Sawaichi," said O Sato, earnestly, "this night let us stay together here and pray through the night without ceasing." Then they both began to pray. The chanting of their supplication rose up clearly in the stillness of the evening hour, and it seemed as if the sand of Tsubosaka might become the golden streets of Paradise. Suddenly Sawaichi stopped and clutched hold of his wife. "O Sato," he said, "I must tell you the truth. I cannot believe. I came simply because it was your wish. But I shall never recover my sight, of that I feel sure." "Why do you say such sad things?" answered O Sato, clasping her hands. "Listen! When the Emperor Kwammu was in Nara, the ancient capital, he suffered with his eyes as you do. Then he prayed to Kwannon Sama and in a short time he was healed. Therefore, pray without ceasing. Kwannon will make no difference between the Emperor and ourselves, though we are as poor as worms. Believers must be patient and go forward slowly, and with quiet minds trust devoutly in the mercy of Kwannon. So great is his benevolence that He hears all prayers. Worship! Pray! Sawaichi San! Pray! instead of wasting time in vain talk." [Illustration: Sawaichi, turning his sightless face towards the altar, repeated the Buddhist invocation "_Namu Amida Butsu_."] Thus did O Sato encourage her husband. Sawaichi nodded his head and replied: "What you say is convincing. From to-night I will fast for three days. You must return home, shut up the house and come again. The next three days will decide my fate, whether I recover or not." "Oh," said O Sato, joyfully, "now you speak wisely. I will go back at once and arrange everything for a three days' absence. But," she added anxiously, "Sawaichi San, remember that this mountain is very steep, and higher up one comes to the top, which falls on the right into a deep precipice. On no account must you leave the temple!" "Oh, no, never fear, I will put my arms round Kwannon to-night--ho, ho, ho!" and he laughed to himself. O Sato, never dreaming of what was in her husband's mind, hurried homewards, blissfully content, thinking that her yearning hopes were realized and that he at last believed. Sawaichi listened to her retreating footsteps. When he could hear them no more, he knew himself to be alone. He fell flat to the earth and cried aloud in the bitterness and darkness of his soul. "Oh! my wife, you will never know how grateful I am to you for all your devotion to me these long years. Though gradually reduced to the straits of poverty, you have never once lost sympathy with me. You have faithfully loved such a miserable blind wretch as myself. Alas! knowing nothing of what was in your heart I even doubted your fidelity. Forgive me, O Sato. Forgive me! If we part now we may never meet again. Oh, the pity of it!" Sawaichi lay on the ground and gave vent to the pent-up misery in his heart. After a few minutes he raised a despairing face and said aloud: "I will not grieve any more. O Sato has prayed devoutly for three years, and yet Kwannon gives no sign of hearing her supplication. What is the use of living any longer? There is only one thing I can do to show my gratitude to you, O Sato! and that is to die and set you free. May you live long, O Sato! and make a happy second marriage! Now, I remember that O Sato told me that there was a deep precipice on the right at the top of the hill. That is the best place for me to die. If I die in this holy place, I may hope to be saved in the next world. Lucky it is that the night is far gone, and that there is no one about ... oh, oh!" With these words Sawaichi rose to his feet. The temple bell, the last before the dawn, rang out in the silence. Sawaichi knew that there was no time to lose. Groping his way with his stick he hastened to the top of the hill. Stopping to listen, he heard the sound of distant water flowing in the valley beneath. In his distraught state of mind it sounded to him like a call from Buddha. With the prayer "_Namu Amida Butsu!_" on his lips, he planted his stick on the edge of the hill, and with a desperate leap threw himself out as far as he could over the side of the abyss. For a few moments the sound of the body crashing through the trees and undergrowth was heard as it fell in its progress of increasing impetus down the precipice: gradually growing fainter and fainter, the noise at last altogether ceased; then all was still on the lonely mountain side. * * * * * Knowing nothing of all this, O Sato was hurrying back to her husband, slipping and stumbling along the familiar road in her anxiety to get to him quickly. At last she reached the temple and looked round eagerly. Sawaichi was nowhere to be seen. "Sawaichi San!" she called again and again. "Sawaichi San!" Receiving no answer to her repeated cries she hunted round the temple courtyard, but with no result. Becoming fearful of what might have befallen him, she called louder than before: "Sawaichi San! Sawaichi San!" Running distractedly from the temple precincts, she hastened to the crest of the hill, and there she tripped over her husband's stick. She now knew what he had done. Frantically she rushed to the precipice and gazed far down into the abyss beneath. There in the grey light of the breaking dawn she could see the lifeless form of her husband stretched upon the ground. "Oh! what shall I do? This is too dreadful!" she cried aloud in her anguish. Her body trembled in a paroxysm of pain. She called to her husband, but only the mountain echoes answered her. "Oh, my husband, my husband! You are too cruel--too cruel! Only with the hope of saving you from blindness did I persevere in prayer for so long to Kwannon Sama. Alas! what will become of me, now that you have left me alone? Now I remember there was something strange in your manner when you sang that sad song coming up the hill. It may be that you had already made up your mind to die. But how could I know? Oh! Sawaichi San, if only I had known I would never have persuaded you to come to this place. Forgive me, oh, forgive me! There is no such miserable woman in the world as myself. No one but God could know that Death would separate us now. Blind man as you are, who cannot see in this world, how will you travel alone amidst the dark shadows down the road of Death? Who will lead you by the hand now? I feel as if I could see you wandering and groping there all by yourself." Heartbrokenly she sobbed for some time. At last she shook herself with resolution; then raised her tear-stained face to the seemingly unresponsive heaven above. [Illustration: There in the grey light of the breaking dawn she could see the lifeless form of her husband stretched upon the ground] "Oh, oh, I will lament no more. Everything that happens in this life is the result of sin and affinity in our previous state of existence. I will die too, and join Sawaichi in death." With clasped hands she repeated the Buddhist prayer, "_Namu Amida Butsu_," and then, gathering all her strength for the fatal leap, sprang over the precipice and was gone. * * * * * The February morning broke clear and bright. Nor in the temple nor on the hillside was there any trace of the pitiful tragedy that had taken place during the night. The mists in the valley and over the mountains dispersed as the sun's rays, advancing swiftly from the east, touched the world with the transforming magic of splendour of day. Then suddenly a strange thing happened. In the rose and golden glory of the unfolding pageant of the early rushing morning, there was wafted over the Tsubosaka valley the most wonderful and uplifting strains of music, and above the bodies of Sawaichi and O Sato appeared the holy and yearningly compassionate form of Kwannon shining in a great, all-space-illuminating radiance. "Listen, Sawaichi!" said the Heavenly Voice, "Your blindness is the result of sin in your former life. The end of this life had come for you both, but through the faith of your wife and the merits of her accumulated prayers, your lives shall be prolonged. Therefore believe and devote your lives to prayer, and make a pilgrimage to the thirty-three holy places, where you must offer up thanks for the grace of Buddha. Awake, O Sato! O Sato! Sawaichi! Sawaichi!" With these words the divine vision disappeared; the temple bell pealed forth the hour of morning prayer, the birds began to sing, the priests to beat their gongs and drums, and to chant their orisons, and over the hillside villages and in the temple the world woke once more to life and work. The two bodies lying in the valley rose up, wondering whether the vision which had restored them to life were a dream. Vaguely they remembered the events of the night. O Sato gazed at Sawaichi: "Sawaichi San! My husband! Your eyes are open!" "Yes, yes, my eyes are open indeed! Oh, oh, my eyes are open, open, open! My eyes are open at last! I can hardly believe it," cried Sawaichi, joyfully. "Remember that it is due to the mercy of Kwannon Sama," said O Sato. "I am thankful, thankful, thankful!" exclaimed Sawaichi. Then looking at his wife, he asked: "But who are you?" "Why, I am your wife O Sato, of course!" answered O Sato. [Illustration: "Listen Saiwachi!" said the Heavenly Voice, "Through the faith of your wife and the merits of her accumulated prayers, your lives shall be prolonged.] "Oh, you are my wife, are you? How happy I am! This is the first time I see you. But how wonderful it all is. When I threw myself over the precipice, I knew nothing more till Kwannon appeared to me in a great and marvellous light and told me that my blindness was the result of misdeeds in a former life." "I, too," said O Sato, "followed you to death and leaped into the valley where I saw you lying all alone. I, too, knew nothing till Kwannon Sama called me. Your eyes are really open, Sawaichi San! Does it not seem a dream!" "No, no," said Sawaichi, "it is no dream. The most merciful Kwannon called me back to life and by a miracle restored my sight. Ha, ha, ha! As deep as the sea is my gratitude to Kwannon." Taking each other by the hand and smiling happily, they climbed to the temple where they had prayed so despairingly the night before. As they went along Sawaichi raised his hands in worship towards the sunlight. To this poor couple, now so happily restored to life and joy and hope, the hill of Tsubosaka did indeed seem Paradise through the mercy of KWANNON, the Embodiment of Amida's Compassion. [Footnote 1: The Japanese harp.] [Footnote 2: The Japanese banjo.] LOYAL, EVEN UNTO DEATH Or The Sugawara Tragedy NOTE.--For many centuries the Fujiwara nobles (the Empresses were always chosen from this family) had secured for themselves supreme control and influence over the Mikados in Kyoto. In the ninth century another family of courtiers came into prominence, namely the Sugawara, who eventually gained sufficient power with the Emperor to be a serious menace to the schemes of the Fujiwara. At the end of the ninth century there arose one especially, Lord Michizane Suguwara, brilliant statesman, scholar, high-souled patriot and poet. The Emperor Uda held him in high esteem and promoted him from the position of his tutor to that of Minister of the Right.[1] In 898 the Fujiwara succeeded in compelling Uda to abdicate in favour of his son, a child of twelve years of age, expecting him to be a more pliant tool in their hands. This boy became the 60th Emperor, Daigo, who, by the advice of his Imperial father, planned to give Michizane absolute authority in state affairs. The jealousy of the vigilant Fujiwara courtiers was fully aroused, and through the machinations of Lord Tokihira (Fujiwara), Minister of the Left, his rival, Michizane, was falsely accused of high treason and banished to Kiushiu where, in the horrors of poverty and exile, he died in 903. Michizane is now known by the posthumous title of Tenjin. Many Shinto temples have been erected in his honour, and students still worship his spirit as the patron god of letters and literature. The following drama, one of the most popular in Japanese literature, tells the story of one heroic incident in the scattering of the Sugawara family, and of the rescue of Lady Sugawara, and the loyalty of Matsuo and O Chiyo, his wife, vassals of the Sugawara. Matsuo, the better to serve his lord's cause, feigns to be unfaithful to him and to go over to the enemy--in fact, he acts the dangerous part of a spy. The Fujiwara Minister is completely deceived and, enlisting his aid, reveals to Matsuo his secret plans for the final overthrow of the exiled Sugawara and the murder of his son. So clever and thorough is Matsuo's dissimulation that even his own father and his brothers are deluded, and Matsuo is calumniated by all who know him, accused of disloyalty to his lord (an unpardonable offence in old Japan) and disinherited by his family. Finally, in a crowning act of transcendent devotion to the Sugawara House, Matsuo and O Chiyo, to save their young lord from death, willingly substitute their own child, Kotaro, in his place. In the feudal days loyalty was the one great social obligation of the _samurai_ to his lord. And this spirit of loyalty often involved painful self-sacrifice. "Life was freely offered, not only by him who was bound by fealty to his lord, but by his children." The following is a typical tragedy of its kind. PERSONS REPRESENTED LADY SUGAWARA, wife of the exiled Prime Minister or "Minister of the Right"--hiding from the enemy in Matsuo's house. MATSUO, a devoted vassal of Lord Michizane Sugawara. O CHIYO, wife of Matsuo. KOTARO, the little son of Matsuo and O Chiyo. SHUNDO GEMBA, the emissary of Lord Fujiwara Tokihira, triumphant enemy of Sugawara. TAKEBE GENZO, a schoolmaster in the suburbs of Kyoto, also vassal of the Sugawara. TONAMI, wife of the schoolmaster. KANSHUSAI, Lord Sugawara's son, a handsome clever boy, eight years of age. Several village school children and their parents. SCENE I. Matsuo's cottage in Kyoto. Night. Lanterns lighted in the room. LOYAL EVEN UNTO DEATH Or The Sugawara Tragedy In the old capital of Kyoto, not far from the Imperial Palace, there lived a _samurai_ named Matsuo with his wife O Chiyo, and their little son Kotaro, eight years of age. With Kotaro by her side, O Chiyo reverently on her knees pushed aside the sliding screens of an inner room, and disclosed the Lady Sugawara seated on the mats, bending forward with her face buried in her hands, her whole attitude expressive of grief and despair. O Chiyo bowed low and said with a voice hushed in sympathy: "It is terrible to me to think that such a great lady as you cannot go even to the veranda in the daytime for fear of being seen by your enemies. You must, indeed, feel like a prisoner--and above all, the separation from the Prime Minister, and your son and daughter. How despondent you must feel! While you were hiding in the capital the secret of your whereabouts leaked out, and you were in danger of being caught--at that crisis my husband saved you and brought you here. You must be sadly ill at ease confined in this poor house, and after what you have been accustomed to the loneliness must be very depressing. But do not despair! You may yet join your husband and son sooner than you think. Till that time comes patiently endure all hardships, hoping for happier days." "Oh!" answered the Lady Sugawara in melancholy tones, "you are so sympathetic and good, I shall never forget your kindness, even after death. Through the malice of a bad man[2] my husband was banished to a distant place, and my poor boy and myself are refugees. The thought of them haunts me from morning till night. There is nothing but misery in dragging out my existence from day to day in this state--but I will, at least, wait till I can see them again, if but for a moment, and then die, especially as your little Kotaro reminds me vividly of my own son, to whom he bears a great resemblance. My longing to see him again grows ever more and more intense." With these sad words the unfortunate lady burst into tears; O Chiyo, deeply affected by her sorrowful plight, wept with her, and the silence of the room was only broken by the sobs of the two women. Suddenly, some one from outside announced in a loud voice that an emissary from an exalted personage had arrived. Both women started to their feet. O Chiyo barely had time to conceal Lady Sugawara in an inner room, when, preceded by several attendants carrying lanterns, the emissary, Shundo Gemba, arrived in full state as befitting the bearer of an important message--he pompously entered the room and seated himself in the place of honour before the alcove. O Chiyo's husband, Matsuo, who had secluded himself and was resting in an inner room, overhearing the commotion, came out to welcome the visitor. "As I am suffering from illness I must beg you to overlook my lack of ceremony in not receiving you in official dress," and he bowed to the ground in a respectful manner. Gemba replied haughtily: "However ill you may be you must listen to the command of Lord Tokihira (the new Prime Minister who had supplanted Sugawara). Sugawara's son, whose hiding-place was hitherto unknown, has at last been discovered by some one who has revealed the secret. The boy is now in the house of Takebe Genzo, by profession a teacher of Chinese writing, but in reality a secret and staunch supporter of Michizane. This man passes the young lord off as his own son. There is no one on our side who knows Kanshusai except yourself, so you are commanded to identify the head as soon as it is cut off, and to bring it as a trophy to Lord Tokihira. By way of reward for this service sick leave will be granted you, and on your recovery you will be created Lord of Harima. There is no time to be lost, so you must make preparations at once." O Chiyo, who was listening with a beating heart in the next room, felt keenly apprehensive, for her husband had been extra moody and reticent of late, and she could neither fathom what was in his mind, nor what answer he would make to the dreadful proposition of this man straight from the enemy's camp. To her utter consternation Matsuo replied: "What kindness on the part of our lord! No greater honour could be conferred upon our house. I will obey the command at once. But owing to my illness matters cannot be arranged as speedily as I could wish. If that man Genzo should happen to hear that I am going to attack him and wrest his prize from him, he may escape with the young Sugawara." "Do not trouble yourself about that," returned Gemba, "it is only a _ronin's_[3] hut, and need not even be surrounded." "But Takebe, knowing that Lord Tokihira is instituting a search for the boy, still boldly harbours him--it is certain that the schoolmaster can be no common man--we must be very cautious in dealing with him," objected Matsuo. "You are quite right," replied the envoy, "if they should manage to escape both of us will be blamed." "Yes, indeed," Matsuo agreed; and then as if suddenly struck by the thought, "I am sorry to trouble you, but do not fail to let your men keep a sharp watch on every exit of the village during the night." "All right," responded the other, "you need not trouble on that score, every necessary precaution will be taken." "Well, then at an early hour to-morrow I will accompany you to Takebe's house," said Matsuo. "Thank you for your trouble," and the two men took leave of each other, Gemba departing from the house in the same haughty style as he had entered it. Matsuo, with a troubled heart, watched until the emissary's procession had disappeared in the distance. Before he could carry out his intended plan he must first sound his wife. During the interview O Chiyo had waited in the next room, a silent witness of all that had taken place between her husband and Lord Tokihira's messenger. As soon as Gemba's party had taken their departure she opened the sliding screens and with some trepidation confronted her husband. "It seems," said the wife, "by what Gemba had to communicate, that the hiding-place of our young lord is at last discovered. Before the assassin has had time to carry out his murderous work let us send for him here, and try to rescue the poor child before he falls into the hands of the enemy. There is no time to lose." As Matsuo made no response, O Chiyo pressed him again and again not to delay. At last he laughed cynically. "You do not seem to have the slightest idea of what is in my mind! I brought Lady Sugawara here from Kita's house so that I might deliver her up together with her son's head at the same time--that is why I have hidden her here." "What are you saying?" gasped O Chiyo. "Can it be your real intention to betray them to Tokihira?" "Yes," answered her husband, calmly looking her in the face, "now is the time to grasp my long-wished for ambition--my fortune has come at last," and he smiled as if well pleased with himself. This was the first time that Matsuo had given any hint of his sinister intention towards the innocent Lady Sugawara and her son, and O Chiyo was so startled and horrified that for a few moments she was choked for utterance. She had hitherto felt convinced that he was devoted, heart, soul, and body, to the cause of their beloved ex-Prime Minister. Bitter tears fell from her eyes, and she moved nearer to him on the mats; in the earnestness of her appeal she stretched out a hand and laid it on his arm, till she could find words to falter out: "Oh, my husband, since when has this dreadful scheme taken possession of your heart? For the Sugawara family I have been quite resigned to your being misunderstood and disinherited by your father's house, and the severance of all relationship with your brothers--indeed, so staunch and whole-hearted has been your devotion to this cause that I always intended to apologize and explain matters to your family when the time came. Now suddenly, without the least warning, your lifelong fidelity has been perverted into treachery. However great your ambition for promotion may be, to betray the wife and child of our Lord Sugawara into the hands of Tokihira is impossible. Are you a devil or a dragon? The punishment for such baseness will fall not only on yourself, but on your child. Oh! purify your heart from this evil intention, and conduct the Lady Sugawara and her son safely to the ex-Prime Minister in Tsukushi,[4] I implore you!" and the distraught woman lifted her hands in an attitude of prayer to her husband, while the tears coursed down her cheeks. But, unmoved by her appeal, Matsuo still laughed contemptuously. "What silly woman's talk! I have now no parents or brothers--they are strangers to me! It would be foolish to forget our own child's welfare for the sake of exiles banished by the State. You may say it is against reason and righteousness, but I do it for the sake of my boy--there is no treasure more precious than a son." "Oh! oh!" sobbed O Chiyo, "how heartless you are! If you think so much of your own boy, Lady Sugawara's feelings must be the same for her son. To attain your ambition at the expense of others, sorrow can bring you no good. Your life will end in sorrow and misery as the result of such a deed." Matsuo became more incensed, and sternly bade his wife be silent. "If the Lady Sugawara overhear you and escape, everything will be lost, you foolish woman!" and with these words Matsuo turned to leave the room. His wife seized the edge of his robe and tried to hold him back. "Do not hinder me, whatever you do!" he said, angrily, and pushing her aside, he disappeared in the direction of Lady Sugawara's room. O Chiyo fell as her husband tore himself from her detaining grasp, and lay prostrate on the mats, stunned with the horror of what he was about to do. After a few minutes she collected herself. "Oh, oh! it seems like some dreadful dream," she murmured in acute distress. "I have lived happily with Matsuo for so many years, and surely he cannot be such a bad man. For the sake of our boy he has lost his conscience. Poor lady! Poor lady! In total ignorance of his change of heart she has trusted to him as her chief staff and pillar of support. How can I look her in the face after this? To prove to her that I am not one with my husband it is better to kill myself and ask her pardon in another world." The poor woman, in her grief and perplexity, wept and trembled by turns. After a few minutes she wiped away her tears and sat up with determination written on her face. "It is now impossible to change my husband's cruel purpose," she said to herself aloud. "My innocent little Kotaro will be taught wrong ways, he will grow up a degraded man and come to a bad end. I foresee it all quite plainly. It is far better to kill him now and let his pure soul accompany me on my long journey to the next life. Besides, when Kotaro is no longer alive, Matsuo may return to his better nature and repent of his treacherous schemes, and the knowledge of it will reach me and I shall be glad, even after death." At this moment her little son came gaily running to her. Knowing nothing of the tragic web of death, which Fate, like a grim spider, was weaving round him, he playfully caressed his mother, his bright eyes shining, his little face alight with smiles. "Mother, Mother, the lady inside is calling you! Come, quick, quick!" As O Chiyo looked at the child's innocent face the tears rose to her eyes. "Oh! Kotaro, my little son, come here--here," she said with a sob, and drew him close to her side. "Oh! Kotaro, listen attentively to what I am going to say, like a good boy. The lady in the inner room is the wife of your father's and your mother's lord, and yours also, Kotaro. For many years we have received nothing but favours and kindness from them, therefore we owe them both a debt of great gratitude. Now, Kotaro, your father tells me that he intends to kill that good unfortunate lady, our own lord's wife--therefore, I, your mother, cannot remain alive any longer--I have decided that my spirit shall accompany her as an attendant to the other world. But you, Kotaro, are the favourite of your father--perhaps you would like to remain behind in this world with him?" "Oh, no, no," answered the child, "I won't stay with such a cruel father. If you die, I want to die with you!" "Oh, how sensible you are, Kotaro. Even if you had refused to die, I must have killed you for the sake of your father--you seem to understand that without being told. I have, therefore, the more pity for you as you are so intelligent and your wish is to die with me. When your father sees you lying dead, sorrow may make him repent of the evil path he has chosen. The other day I made a consecrated banner for the grave of little Sakura Maru, your uncle. How little did I dream, while making it, that I should ever use it for my own son." With these words she drew out a dagger which had been concealed in her _obi_,[5] unsheathed it, and with raised hand was about to stab the child. "Stay, stay, do not be too hasty!" the voice of Matsuo rang out sharply in the silence, as he suddenly appeared in the open _shoji_[6] leading Lady Sugawara by the hand. As they entered the room in front of the startled O Chiyo, whose hand, poised to strike the fatal blow, fell to her side, Matsuo made a gesture to Lady Sugawara to take the place of honour by the alcove. Matsuo then seated himself opposite Sugawara's unhappy wife in the lowly seat near the exit of the room, prostrating himself before her. "It is quite natural that your ladyship and my wife do not know my true heart: now let me speak the truth," he said, with quiet and impressive dignity. "After the overthrow of your house and the banishment of Lord Sugawara, when my brother became _ronin_ and quarrelled with me, I served Prince Tokihira for some time. I was soon disgusted with his ways, and finding my situation untenable, asked for sick leave, with the purpose of finding your son so that I might do my best to restore your house to its former position. I did everything in my power to help you, but to my dismay nearly everyone was in league with the enemy. It was part of my plan, you must know, to throw our crafty enemy off the scent, and it was to this end that I entered his service and pretended to be one of his party. I played my part so well as to deceive my own father, who, despising me for a disloyal and faithless man, condemned my conduct and disinherited me, for he, too, was devoted to your cause. For this policy also I separated from my brothers. In thus misleading the enemy I felt sure that I could be of some use in saving you and your son at a critical moment. It was a drastic step to take, but Tokihira has been completely misled, and events have turned out just as I expected. This night, as you must have heard, I received strict orders to act as identifier of your son's head. As Takebe is a faithful man he will not kill our young lord, of that rest assured. But alas! he is one, while the enemy are many. 'If anything should happen to our lord's son, it can never be undone,' these were the thoughts that troubled me this evening when I overhead what your ladyship said, that Kotaro bore a strong resemblance to our young lord; and the idea flashed into my brain that our boy can be used as a substitute to save him. At the same time it occurred to me, that if my wife's love for Kotaro obstruct my plans I should be powerless, so to prove what was in her heart I said cruel things that I did not mean--that, for the sake of my boy, I would betray you and your son. She did not understand me, and then and there decided to kill herself and Kotaro, and by thus removing the cause of my supposed temptation to induce my repentance. What a noble wife!" O Chiyo, as she listened to this long explanation from her beloved husband, wept for joy, and Lady Sugawara was overcome with emotion at the surpassing loyalty of her retainers; they seemed to her to be exalted above ordinary human beings--and were as Gods in the pure sphere of a selfless world. "For sake of loyalty you have become an outcast to your father's house, and now you would kill your son, your only son, for us--it distresses me too much--it is overwhelming. I cannot accept such a sacrifice! The punishment of Heaven may be visited upon me. No, no, no--you must not slay your little Kotaro even for your lord's sake. If everything should fail us, you must try to save both, my son and Kotaro," implored the hopeless wife of the exiled minister. Matsuo, whose mind never wavered, prostrated himself before her. "How grateful I am to you for your considerate thought for us, but as every exit in the village is carefully watched, there is no way of escape." Then he turned to his wife. "After your decision of an hour ago, I do not think you will now hesitate to sacrifice our boy." He then leaned forward and looked at his son with a smile. "Kotaro, you are too young to understand these things, but for the sake of your young lord and your parents, die without regret!" As Matsuo spoke those tragic words, fixing his eyes upon the upturned face of his boy, whose bright eyes looked back at him trustingly and fearlessly, a shudder involuntarily passed through his frame in spite of the iron restraint he put upon himself. But loyalty demanded the sacrifice, and at all costs the house of Sugawara must be saved. To control himself he closed his eyes, to shut out the vision of his boy's smile. The moment of weakness passed, and Matsuo once more sat erect, gazing at his son with an unmoved face, white and set as a mask. Lady Sugawara and O Chiyo dared not look at him. Both began to sob, covering their faces with their sleeves. "Do not give way to weakness," at last Matsuo forced himself to say, sternly. "If we spend our time thus, everything will be lost. Look, the dawn is beginning to break. Get ready to take Kotaro to Takebe's house immediately. Quick, quick!" "Yes, yes," assented the mother, with a sinking heart, and she slowly rose to her feet, taking Kotaro by the hand. She knew that this was the end. Her boy's doom was at hand and his hours were numbered. "Have I to go now?" said Kotaro, bravely. "Father, will you not say farewell and call me your good boy for the last time?" Thus the mother and her son set out for the sacrifice. PART II SCENE: A village school kept by Takebe Genzo and his wife Tonami, both devoted vassals of the exiled Prime Minister, Michizane Sugawara. Among Takebe's pupils is the young Sugawara. This boy they disguise and pass off as their own child. The little lord, though only eight years of age, excels in everything among the pupils and, inheriting the ability from his father, writes Chinese hieroglyphics with great skill. The senior pupil is a lazy, stupid, and incorrigibly mischievous fellow, fifteen years of age, who will not study at all. "While our teacher is out it is a great waste of time to practise writing. Look! I have done all my writing on my head." and the lazy boy came forward and showed his school-fellows a shaved pate all blackened with Indian ink. The little Sugawara looked at him and said: "If you learn one new character every day you will acquire three hundred and sixty-five characters in a year. Instead of wasting your time playing like that, you must study." But the older boy only laughed at him, and left his desk to prance about the room. The other boys took the part of little Sugawara and, growing disgusted with the idle boy, wanted to punish him. There arose a great clamour in the school-room, all the boys shouting together and leaving their places to attack him. Disturbed by the noise, the schoolmaster's wife came out from the inner room. "What is the matter? Are you quarrelling again? To-day the master is away. He has been invited by a friend, and I do not know when he will come back. As we are expecting a new pupil to-day I am anxious for his return. Now, if you are good boys and will work hard this morning, I will give all of you a half-holiday this afternoon." The boys were delighted with this promise. All promptly returned to their seats, and opening their books and their inkstands, became diligently absorbed in their tasks of reading and writing. Just then a sound at the porch made Tonami draw aside the screens. A gentle and aristocratic-looking woman was standing there with a pretty boy of about eight years of age by her side. A manservant, carrying a desk, was in attendance. After an exchange of civilities, the visitor explained: "Our home is at the other end of the village. The reason for my visit is to ask you to take this naughty boy into your care, as arranged the other day. I am told that you have a child of your own about his age. I should like to see him!" Tonami beckoned to the little Sugawara. "Why, certainly; this is our son and heir!" "Oh, what a nice little fellow! And how clever he looks!" Then looking round the school-room, she added: "How busy you must be with such a number of scholars in your care. They must be a great trouble and responsibility." "Yes, you may imagine it is no easy work to look after them all. Is this the boy you wish us to take charge of? What is his name?" "His name is Kotaro!" answered the mother. "What an intelligent-looking child!" exclaimed Tonami. "Unfortunately my husband has been obliged to keep an appointment with some friends. But if you are in a hurry and cannot wait, I will go and fetch him." "No, no," protested Matsuo's wife, "as I have an errand elsewhere I will call in on my way back. He may have returned by then." Then calling her servant, she ordered him to bring in the presents she had brought, one for the master, and some cakes to distribute amongst the schoolboys. In a few graceful words the gratified hostess acknowledged her visitor's kind thought. "Oh, it is nothing--only a little token of thanks from my heart for all the trouble my boy is going to give you." Then turning to Kotaro, she added: "I am going to the next village, so you must wait for me here like a good child--don't forget all I have told you!" "Oh, mother, I want to come with you!" Kotaro suddenly cried, catching her by the sleeve as she was stepping into the porch. "Now, do not be naughty!" remonstrated his mother, "a big boy like you ought not to run after your mother. Look, Tonami San, what a baby he is still!" "Oh, it is quite natural, poor little fellow. Look here, Kotaro! Come with me and I will give you something nice." Then, turning to O Chiyo, she added "Try to come back as soon as possible." "Yes, yes, I will come back at once, if you are a good boy, Kotaro." Seizing the opportunity she slipped out through the porch gate, followed by her servant, who closed it after her, and the two briskly clattered away on their clogs. The poor mother yearned to turn back once more, for she knew that she would never see her little son again in this world; but she kept bravely on her way. While Tonami was trying to console Kotaro, and to distract his attention by introducing him to the little Sugawara, her husband returned. His face was pale, and he was evidently profoundly agitated. As he entered the school-room he sharply scrutinized each of the boys in turn. His wife saw at a glance that something unusual must have occurred. "Oh, what common fellows they are!" he muttered, crossly. "Such country-bred louts can never serve my purpose, however great the trouble I take with their education," and he gloomily regarded them with knitted brows, as though something was weighing heavily on his mind. His wife approached him and anxiously inquired: "What is the matter? You seem unusually worried to-day. You knew from the first that those village lads can never become intellectual. People will not think well of you, if you speak against your own scholars in this way. Besides, we have another pupil to-day. Please try to recover your good temper and look at the new boy." With these words she brought forward Kotaro, but Takebe had become absorbed in his own preoccupation, and took no notice of the child. Kotaro came forward, bowed respectfully, and said: "Please, sir, I look to you to teach me from now." At these words, spoken in a clear, sweet treble, Takebe started from his reverie and fixed his eyes upon the new-comer; by degrees his face gradually brightened as though struck by a new train of thought. "What a handsome and dignified boy. You might easily pass for the son of a nobleman or any other exalted personage. Well, you are a fine fellow!" "He is, indeed," responded Tonami, with a smile. "I thought you would be glad to see such a promising pupil." "Yes, yes," assented the master--"nothing could be better," he muttered, in an undertone, as if speaking to himself; and then aloud, "where is the mother who brought him here?" "As you were not at home, she went to the next village on an errand," replied his wife. "That is capital!" said Takebe, growing more and more pleased. "Send this child with our boy to an inner room, and let them play together." "Now," said Tonami, turning to the class of schoolboys, who had been more assiduous than ever since their master's return, "all of you may have a holiday. Run away and play in the garden!" After sending her two special charges into the next room, and looking around with suspicious eyes that no eavesdropper was lingering behind, she lowered her voice and half-whispered to her husband: "When you came in you looked so harassed and troubled, but since you have seen that boy, your demeanour has suddenly undergone a complete change. What can be the reason for this? Something unexpected must have happened! Won't you let me share the secret?" "It is quite natural that I should have been so perplexed and dumbfounded," answered Takebe. "To deceive me they pretended to be giving a feast, and invited me to the residence of the village mayor, but when I arrived I soon found the feast was all a myth, and the house was in the occupation of Shundo Gemba, vassal of Tokihira, and another man, Matsuo by name, who is under great obligations of gratitude to the ex-Prime Minister, but who has deserted the house of Sugawara, and now shamefully serves the enemy, Tokihira. It seems as though he must have been appointed to examine the head of our young lord, for it has leaked out that he is here under our guardianship, and Tokihira has ordered him to be beheaded. These two men, with some hundred followers, surrounded me in a hostile manner, with this threat: "We have received information that you are secreting the only son of the ex-Prime Minister in your house, disguised as your own child. Unless you kill him at once and bring his head to us, we will attack you and slay him ourselves. "As no alternative was left me, I was compelled to pretend to assent to their proposal. I thought that amongst our pupils surely there would be one sufficiently like to be sacrificed in his stead, but when I came home and was confronted by all that row of plebian faces, it was an obvious fact that not a single one would answer the purpose. All those young boors are of a common and vulgar type, and as unlike as possible to the aristocratic face and noble bearing of our palace-reared boy. Despair seized me, but--when I saw the new pupil--it seemed as if he had been specially sent by Providence as a substitute. The difference between them is not so great as that between a crow and a white heron. If I can deceive them but for a short time with that boy's head, I intend to escape to Kawachi with the young prince." His wife broke in: "But that man, Matsuo, has known Kanshusai intimately since he was three years old. How could he be deceived?" "There lies the difficulty," said Genzo, "but after death faces always change to some extent, and as Kotaro unmistakably bears some resemblance to our young master, even Matsuo may be deceived. At any rate we will risk it. In the event that the ruse is discovered, I am determined to kill Matsuo at once, and try to cut my way through the guards as best I can, but if they are too strong for me, I will die with the young prince. Such is my decision, but the chief anxiety at present is concerning the mother of that boy. If she should come back before this can be achieved, what course of action can we decide on?" "Leave her to me! I will try to throw dust in her eyes!" suggested Tonami. "No, no, that won't do--a great plan often fails through some small mistake." Then, after a moment's reflection, he added, "Oh, well--I suppose she must die, too!" "What!" cried his wife, in alarm. "Be quiet," admonished her husband. "For the young lord's sake we must stop at nothing. It is for our master's sake, remember that!" "Yes, yes, if we are weak we shall fail in our great scheme. Let us become devils. There is not much difference between pupils and one's own children. That boy became our pupil at this critical moment--heaven must have delivered him into our hands as the result of his mother's sin in a former existence. Oh, well! the same fate may overtake us before long--" At this point their pent-up feelings gave way, and both of them shed tears. Shortly afterwards Gemba and Matsuo arrived at the gate. They were closely followed by a number of villagers, the parents of the common pupils in the school. In great excitement, one and all were loudly clamouring for the safety of their own children. Matsuo almost laughed. The situation was one of such grim comedy. Each peasant evidently thought his own son might easily pass for the young aristocrat! "Oh, mine is a beautiful boy," shouted one man. "You mustn't make any mistake between my son and the real victim. Give me my boy--" he turned fiercely to Gemba. "You need have no apprehension whatever regarding your children," said Gemba, calmly addressing the alarmed parents, who now squatted on the ground with their heads bowed in the dust, "if you want them, you are at liberty to take them away at once!" Matsuo, who was in a _kago_,[7] here stepped out, using his long sword as a stick to lean upon. Both he and Gemba sat on stools, which their attendants placed ready. "Just wait a little," said he--"we cannot be too careful even with these villagers. The reason why I accepted the office of examiner is because there is no one else who knows the young prince's head as well as I do. These people allowed the young Sugawara to live in this village, so very likely they may have sympathy with the ex-Prime Minister and may claim his son now, pretending that he is one of their own family, and so aid him to escape! Who knows?" Then, turning to the agitated peasants, he said to them, "Now, my men, you may call out your children's names one by one. I will examine each face carefully. Your own boys shall be safely restored to you, rest assured of that!" The schoolmaster and his wife, from the house, overheard all that was going on, and Matsuo's determined and arrogant demeanour only served to intensify their fears. It was going to be even more difficult than they had apprehended. An elderly man came forward, and in a loud voice, called out: "Chomatsu, Chomatsu!" In answer, an ill-favoured, pock-marked boy ran out, his face covered with smudges of Indian ink. Matsuo glanced at him. "The difference is as great as between snow and charcoal. He may go!" In turn, all the rest of the pupils were searchingly inspected, but not one bore the slightest resemblance to the ill-fated Kanshusai. When the pacified villagers had carried away all their offspring in triumph, Gemba and Matsuo entered the schoolmaster's house. "Genzo!" began Gemba, in tones of authority, "you promised to behead the young Sugawara--I will receive that head now!" Without betraying the least sign of feeling, Genzo replied: "Yes, but he is the son of the ex-Prime Minister. We cannot slaughter him like a common boy. Please wait for a short time!" "Oh, you cannot deceive us," said Matsuo, quickly. "Dallying in this way is merely pretext for gaining time. But it is useless for you to attempt to disappear now, the rear of the house is guarded by some hundred men, and there is no room even for an ant to escape. You may produce a substitute head, with the explanation that a dead and a living face have a different appearance. I shall not be taken in by a subterfuge. Such tricks on your part will only lead to repentance!" This last thrust hit Genzo hard, but he did not lose his self-possession and answered Matsuo quietly, "What a far-fetched idea! Your eyes, after your long illness, may not be able to see things clearly, but I will surely give you the head of the young lord you demand." "Before your tongue is dry," exclaimed Gemba, impatiently, "behead him at once!" "It shall be done!" replied Takebe, and went into an inner room. His wife, who had listened to all that transpired, was in an agony of anxiety, pale and trembling. Matsuo, with sharp eyes, was looking round the room. "It is rather mysterious," he said, suddenly, "eight pupils have gone home, and yet, there are nine desks. What has become of the owner of that extra desk?" Tonami started. She began to explain that there was a new pupil. Matsuo saw her vacillation. In an undertone, he said: "What a fool you are! Keep quiet!" Then, realizing how fatal such a mistake would be--Tonami collected herself and managed to stammer out. "That is the young Sugawara's desk!" But her confusion had been noticed by the enemy. Gemba started to his feet and shouted in furious tones, "This trifling will cause the frustration of our plans!" At that moment the sound of a sword broke the silence as it fell swishing through the air, the screens of the room shook, and before Matsuo and Gemba could reach the partition which separated the inner from the outer room, Takebe appeared, carrying a white wooden tray. A cover hid what was beneath, but a thin trail of crimson blood was ominously oozing from the edge. Kneeling on the mats before the two men, he placed his ghastly burden before them. "There was no alternative, so I was forced to behead the young lord. May Heaven forgive me! As it is a matter of such importance that there should be no mistake--please examine it carefully." With these words, Takebe's hand stealthily fell upon his sword-hilt. Every fibre was on the alert to cut down Matsuo the moment he realized the deception that had been practised on him. "I will certainly do so," replied Matsuo, nonchalantly, then, addressing some of the soldiers who had followed him into the room, he peremptorily gave them the command: "Now surround the Takebe couple!" From the rear of the house several guards entered and took up their posts at the porch, and just behind Genzo and his wife. The strain was almost too great for the poor woman, and she was well-nigh fainting with the sickening uncertainty of what might be the last act of that dreadful drama. Gemba, looking on, took note keenly of the proceedings. Everything hung on Matsuo's decision. The suspense of the moment was agonizing in its intensity. He slowly lifted the blood-rimmed cover from the wooden tray. A boy's decapitated head was exposed to view. It was the head of little Kotaro. Takebe's eyes were riveted on Matsuo. Defiantly he swore that Matsuo should draw his last breath the moment he declared the head to be a subterfuge. As a tiger ready to spring on its prey, the desperate man watched the judge on whose next word hung all their lives. Tonami was praying to the Gods in silent fervour that the truth might not be discovered, tremblingly she clutched a short sword hidden beneath her robe, which her husband had surreptitiously handed her, in preparation for the worst. Matsuo deliberately examined the head of his own son--carefully and searchingly from every side he scrutinized the little face, now so still and pallid, sometimes his eyes blinked to hide the gathering tears, and once his face contracted with pain, but at last he loudly pronounced the momentous verdict: "Oh, there can be no doubt that this is the head of Kanshusai, the son of the Lord Sugawara." Triumph, at the success of his loyal plot, conquered every other feeling and he slammed the lid back into place. Gemba, delighted that there had been no mistake, and that the gruesome commission had been successfully carried out, accorded words of praise to Takebe for beheading the boy. "As a reward for this deed, you will be pardoned for harbouring him so long! Let us hasten to take the head to Lord Tokihira," he said, turning to Matsuo. "Yes, it is better that no time should be lost," responded the latter, "but as my duty is now finished, may I request to be discharged on sick leave?" "Certainly," Gemba replied, "as your mission is satisfactorily concluded, you may go." He then took up the tray with the bleeding head, strode to the door, and calling his attendants, pompously set out at once for Tokihira's palace. Outside the gate he stopped and mockingly addressed Takebe: "Ha, ha, ha!" he laughed, "though you take great care of the boy usually, when your own life is in danger you do not fail to cut off his head! ha, ha, ha!" and the cruel man, with this parting sneer, went on his ruthless way. Matsuo silently followed him out of the house and got into his _kago_. The husband and wife, now that they were left alone, were quite exhausted from the emotion and stress of the past hour. They went out and closed the gates. Both were speechless with joy for some minutes. The master, sighing with relief, bowed his head and turned to the four points of the compass, silently returning thanks to the deities whose help he had invoked. [Illustration: This is the head of Kanshusai, the son of the Lord Sugawara.] "Oh, Heaven be praised!" he exclaimed at last. "The Gods have accorded their mighty aid to our cause and mercifully caused Matsuo's eyes to be dimmed, so that he mistook the other boy's head for that of our young prince. Heaven has clearly interposed to help our lord. Let us rejoice, my wife!" "Yes, yes," she answered, "what a terrible strain it has been! In some unfathomable way the spirit of our lord must have cast a veil over Matsuo's eyes, or that head may have become a golden Buddha to help our cause. Though there was a slight resemblance between the two boys, yet they differ in reality as much as brick from gold. I was so transported at the success of our plan, that I almost wept aloud with the poignancy of joy when I saw that Matsuo was deceived." When the loyal couple had given vent to their feelings, simultaneously they rushed to the side-room, where they had concealed their precious charge. The one from the side and the other from the front pushed aside the screens. Genzo then raised one of the _tatami_ (a padded mat three feet by six feet), disclosing a cavity in the floor, out of which rose up the aristocratic form of Kanshusai, safe and untouched by his enemies. They gazed at him in silence--overwhelmed. Suddenly, a knocking at the gate and the voice of Kotaro's mother disturbed them. "I am the mother of the new pupil. Let me in!" Startled, they hastily closed the screens. At this turn of events Tonami was at her wits' end, and knew not what to do for the best. She ran to and fro across the room like one demented. Seeing that Tonami was losing her self-control and was about to burst out into excited speech, her husband enveloped his hand in the sleeve of his robe and covered her mouth. He held her still with grim determination. "Remember what I said a short time ago. It means simply this--nothing is so precious as our young lord. You weak creature!" he added, with disdain, as he saw his wife's trepidation. Then he turned and went to the entrance. "I fear my naughty boy must be giving you a great deal of trouble," said the new-comer, as Takebe let her in, "but what has become of him now?" To gain time, Takebe replied, little knowing that he was confronted by a soul as strong in loyalty to the Sugawara as his own: "He is in the house playing with the other children--school is over for to-day, so you must take him back with you." "Very well," she assented, and started towards the house. Directly her back was turned, Takebe drew his sword and tried to cut her down from behind. O Chiyo, a _samurai_ woman, was a trained fencer. She swiftly comprehended the meaning of Takebe's movement, even before he drew his sword, the sound, as it left its sheath, confirming what her alert senses divined. Quick as lightning she darted aside, barely escaping the deadly weapon as it tried to compass her destruction. Again and again the desperate man thrust at her. All would be lost even now, if this woman discovered that her boy had been slain to save their lord's son. With a box which she carried in her hand, O Chiyo skilfully parried the blows. "Wait, wait! What is the matter?" she gasped out. But her frenzied antagonist was far too excited to listen, and he struck out with such good-will that the box, which served her as a shield, was speedily cut in two, and there appeared, unfolding and fluttering in the breeze as they fell, a little winding sheet, and a sacred banner used for the dead, bearing in black hieroglyphics, the inscription, "_Namu Amida Butsu_!" (All hail, Great Buddha!) Takebe's hand was paralyzed by this unexpected apparition. Bewildered as to what this could mean, he glanced inquiringly at O Chiyo. "Was my boy considered worthy to take the place of our young lord or not?" she asked, meeting his gaze steadily with her clear eyes. "Tell me the truth!" At such totally unlooked-for words, Takebe was confounded more than ever. Was it possible that the enemy he was seeking to destroy had unexpectedly become a friend? "Oh, oh!" he stammered, "Did you understand and anticipate all this?" "Yes, of course," answered the brave mother. "As I anticipated everything, I prepared and brought these things in Kotaro's box." "Whose wife are you?" cried the astonished man, as he sheathed his sword. Before she could answer a voice from outside the gate chanted a poem: _Ume[8] wa tobi_ _Sakura_[8] _wa karuru_ _Yono naka ni_ _Nani tote Matsu_[8] _wa_ _Tsure na kakuran_. In my service Plum blossom has fled The Cherry has withered How then can the Pine be Heartless to me? "Rejoice, my wife! Our boy has done his duty!" When these brief words conveyed to the heroic woman that the sacrifice had been consummated in the tragic fate of her cherished son, her brave spirit failed her, and she fell unconscious to the ground. "What a poor creature you are!" exclaimed her husband, as he entered the room. At the unexpected arrival of Matsuo, the schoolmaster and his wife were more confused than ever, but with an effort Takebe attempted to regain his self-possession. [Illustration: The box, which served her as a shield, was speedily cut in two, and there appeared, unfolding and fluttering in the breeze, a little winding-sheet and a sacred banner for the dead] "I will use more ceremonious speech afterwards. You Matsuo, whom we all believed a traitor to behave like this! What is the meaning of it all?" "It is quite natural that you cannot understand. We were three brothers. All were faithful vassals of Michizane, the Minister of the Right, to whom my family was deeply indebted. I, Matsuo, latterly entered the service of Tokihira, and on this account I was disowned by my father. I dissimulated thus, the better to serve Lord Sugawara. However, the position proved intolerable, and to get my dismissal I feigned illness. It was at this juncture that the news of where Kanshusai was concealed reached the ears of Tokihira. A messenger informed me that I would be released from office if I would undertake the mission of securing the head of our young lord. I felt sure that you would never commit such a crime, but if no substitute could be procured I knew that you would be desperate. Thinking that the time had come to repay the debt of gratitude to our generous benefactor, I consulted with my wife, and we sent our own boy to take the place of his son. That is why I counted the number of desks, to see if he were already here or not. Lord Sugawara composed the poem I quoted just now, showing his discernment of my character. In that poem he asks, 'How can the pine be heartless towards me?' But the world, in general, interpreted those lines in a contrary sense, and everyone denounced me as a cowardly deserter. You may imagine, Genzo, how I resented this. If I had had no son, I must have passed as a traitor all my life. There is no possession so precious as a son." O Chiyo, who had meanwhile recovered from her faint, was intently listening to her husband's explanations with a composed demeanour. But at these words she could restrain her emotion no longer, and sobbed aloud. "Oh, how our Kotaro must rejoice although in another world, to hear such sentiments from his father. Those words are his best requiem. When I left him a short time ago, he looked unusually sad--for his childish mind understood that he was about to die. I intended to go home and deceive him, saying that I was going to the next village and would return soon. But I could not go home. Oh! the yearning to see even his dead face once more was so great that I came back. You may scoff at my weakness, but my sorrow is well-nigh unendurable. Had our Kotaro been born ugly, and brought up as a common child, he might not have suffered such a death. But as he was beautiful, obedient, and good, he was chosen for the sacrifice. Could I have known his untimely fate I would never have found fault with him. Oh, my son, my little, little son!" And the poor woman, overcome with the poignancy of her grief and the bitterness of her renunciation, fell with her face to the mats, trying to suppress the rending sobs which seemed to tear her breast asunder. Here Tonami came close to the sorrowing mother and murmured in tones of sympathy: "Only a short hour ago, when my husband had decided that he should be the substitute for the young prince, Kotaro came up to him and said, innocently, 'Master, please take care of me!' When I think of this, though I am but a stranger, I feel as if my heart would break. I can imagine how desolate his true mother must be to lose such a sweet child," and the tears fell from her eyes. "No, no, Tonami! No, no, my wife! You must not weep. It was our own decision to let him die in the place of our young lord. You, O Chiyo, ought to be ashamed to give way like this before strangers. But," and Matsuo turned anxiously to Takebe, "although I carefully explained to my boy the reason for his fate, and how he should die with dignity, tell me, did he meet death in a miserable way, or did he die like a _samurai_?" "Yes, oh, yes!" Takebe quickly replied. "When I told the brave boy that his head must be cut off to save our young lord, the child of his benefactor, he calmly and courageously, without a word, placed his neck in readiness for the sword--he did not attempt either to hide or to escape from his impending doom. You must have taught him well--he even smiled at the last--rest assured of that!" The schoolmaster could say no more, with strong restraint he tried to hide his feelings and pretended to laugh, but the forced mirth ended with a choking sound in his throat. At this point the stoic father broke down and wept, and as he wiped away the slow tears, he said, in a low voice: "He was both good and clever, was our little Kotaro. Even at the age of nine he takes the place of his parents to prove our gratitude to our lord. He is a filial child--a fortunate child to be able to do that I The more I think of it the more it recalls my brother, Sakura Maru. He died without being able to make any return for the obligation he was under to his lord. How he must envy our boy!" "Oh, Kotaro soon followed him to another world!" wailed O Chiyo, and with these words she burst into another paroxysm of grief. The young Sugawara, the innocent cause of this tragedy, overhearing the poor mother's heart-rending sobs, came out from an inner room, pale and awe-stricken: "If I had only known that he was going to die for me, I would not have allowed it--oh--how sad! how sad!" he exclaimed, and with his long sleeve, he wiped away the tears from his eyes. Matsuo and his wife turned and bowed to the little fellow while he spoke. For this boy's sake their family must sink into oblivion and nothingness, and be no longer remembered among the living; for his sake there would be no one to keep up the rites of the dead before their ancestors' tombs or their own, when they should be no more. On this altar of loyalty to his father's house they had offered all that this world held for them of joy, hope, and ambition. On this altar they had laid up for themselves a cheerless, desolate, childless old age. To this sublime ideal of duty, unhesitatingly, unflinchingly, regardless of themselves and the acuteness of their sufferings, these simple martyr-souls had made this great renunciation. That the young lord should realize this sacrifice they had not in the least expected. His words surprised them. It was balm to their stricken hearts, that even in some small measure he could appreciate what they had done for him. Then Matsuo rose and went to the porch. "I have brought a present for our young master," and with a whistle, he summoned a _kago_ that had been waiting in the garden. As soon as the bearers set it down out stepped the Lady Sugawara. "Oh, my mother! My mother!" almost shouted the boy, as she quickly entered the house, her long mantle of gold brocade and crimson linings flashing colour as she moved. "Oh, my son, my beloved son!" cried the overjoyed mother, folding the child to her heart. The schoolmaster and his wife exclaimed with joy when they realized the identity of the new-comer After their respectful greetings, Takebe said: "I have been long striving to discover your hiding place. Where can your ladyship have taken refuge all this time?" Matsuo answered for her: "When her ladyship was hiding in the suburbs, Tokihira's retainers got scent of her retreat and nearly succeeded in taking her prisoner. Knowing her danger I disguised myself as a _yamabushi_[9] and managed to rescue her just in time, so she has been concealed in my house ever since. Without delay you must now escort her and Kanshusai to Kawachi,[10]--so that they may once more be a united family, safe from the pursuit of their enemies." Then, turning to his wife, he added, "Now let us carry home the body of Kotaro and begin the preparations for his funeral rites." But before O Chiyo could answer, Tonami reverently carried the headless body of the slain child to the _kago_. O Chiyo followed, and kneeling, placed over Kotaro the white shroud and the sacred banner. Matsuo and his wife then took off their outer robes, revealing the white garments of ceremonial mourning in readiness for the obsequies. Takebe and his wife made a gesture of surprise and deprecation. "It is against custom that parents should attend the funeral of their own son. Let us spare you this trial--we will do everything in your place!" they cried. "No, no," said Matsuo, loyal unto death, even the death of his only son for the sake of his lord, "this is not the body of my boy. We are going to bury our young lord!" [Illustration: "No, no," said Matsuo ... "this is not the body of my boy.... We are going to bury our young lord!"] With these words, Matsuo and his wife took their farewells. Then, turning in silence, they followed the impromptu bier which bore all that was left to them of their well-beloved child, and with bowed heads reverently wended their way towards their now desolate and empty home. Lady Sugawara, her son, Genzo and Tonami, with tears falling from their eyes, watched the little procession slowly disappear down the road into the deepening shadows of the night. Note.--"The memory of the unfortunate statesman, Sugawara-no-Michizane, is surrounded by a halo of romance which affords an insight into Japanese character. He belonged to an ancient family of professional litterateurs, and had none of the titles which in that age were commonly considered essential to official preferment. By extraordinary scholarship, singular sweetness of disposition, and unswerving fidelity to justice and truth he won a high reputation, and had he been content with the fame his writings brought him, and with promoting the cause of scholarship, through the medium of a school which he endowed, he might have ended his days in peace. But, in an evil hour, he accepted office, and thus found himself required to discharge the duties of statesmanship at a time of extreme difficulty, when an immense interval separated the rich and the poor, when the arbitrariness and extortions of the local governors had become a burning question, when the nobles and the princes were crushing the people with merciless taxes, and when the finances of the Court were in extreme disorder. Michizane, a gentle conservative, was not fitted to cope with these difficulties, and his situation at Court was complicated by the favour of an ex-Emperor (Uda) who had abdicated but still sought to take part in the administration, and by the jealousy of the Fujiwara representative, Tokihira, a young, impetuous, arrogant, but highly gifted nobleman. These two men, Michizane and Tokihira, became the central figures in a very unequal struggle, the forces on the one side being the whole Fujiwara clan, headed by the unscrupulously daring and ambitious Tokihira; those on the other, a few scholars, the love and respect of the lower orders, and the benevolent tolerance of the self-effacing Michizane. The end was inevitable. Michizane, falsely accused of conspiring to obtain the throne for his grandson--an Imperial prince had married his daughter--was banished to Dazaifu, and his family and friends were either killed or reduced to serfdom. The story is not remarkable. It contains no great crises or dazzling incidents. Yet if Michizane had been the most brilliant statesman and the most successful general ever possessed by Japan, his name could not have been handed down through all generations of his countrymen with greater veneration and affection."--BRINKLEY, "Japan: Its History Arts and Literature," p. 256. [Footnote 1: In the ancient Imperial Court there were two supreme Ministers in the Council of State; first the Minister of the Left (_Sadaijin_--next in rank to the Prime Minister), and second, the Minister of the Right (_Udaijin_).] [Footnote 2: The Fujiwara Minister.] [Footnote 3: _Ronin_, a _samurai_ who has severed relations with his lord for the sake, generally, of carrying out some plan which would entail disgrace if unsuccessful.] [Footnote 4: Where Sugawara was exiled.] [Footnote 5: _Obi_, the sash or girdle.] [Footnote 6: _Shoji_, sliding paper door.] [Footnote 7: _Kago_, a palanquin.] [Footnote 8: _Matsu_, the first hieroglyphic of Matsuo's name. _Ume_ (plum blossom), and _Sakura_ (cherry), were the names of Matsuo's brothers.] [Footnote 9: _Yamabushi_, a wandering priest.] [Footnote 10: Kawachi: where the friends of Sugawara were the strongest.] HOW KINU RETURNED FROM THE GRAVE In the good old days of long, long, ago, there lived in the city of Osaka a rich merchant. Fortune had smiled upon his enterprises, and his business prospered tenfold, until he possessed in abundance all that this world had to bestow: moreover, he was proud in the possession of a little daughter, named Kinu, beautiful as a _ten-no-tsukai_, one of the angels of the Buddhist heaven; her fame spread far and wide, and all who saw her marvelled at her exceeding loveliness. In contrast to the opulence and grandeur of this wealthy man, next door, in a poor and mean house, there dwelt a humble vendor of tobacco, who was also blessed with an unusually handsome child, a boy named Kunizo, and who chanced to be of the same age as his little neighbour. From earliest times Kinu and Kunizo were accustomed to play together almost daily, and shared all their childish joys and sorrows, so that gradually a deep and enduring affection sprang up between the two. All who saw them took great delight in watching the grace and beauty of the two children, who seemed so well suited to each other, and who made a perfect picture when seen together. As, however, the little playfellows grew older, from motives of prudence, the rich merchant and his wife sought to discourage their intimacy, and their daughter was gradually removed as much as possible from the companionship of the lowly neighbour's son. But although Kinu and Kunizo could no longer enter into each other's daily life and play as formerly, yet the strong bond of sympathy and affection that linked them together never grew less, and silently within their hearts they cherished the remembrance of all the happy days they had spent in each other's company. At last, when Kinu reached the age of seventeen, her beauty and charm had become so celebrated, and the merchant's wealth and position so well established in the city, that she was sought in marriage by the son of a great nobleman. The parents, highly elated at the distinction of such a lofty alliance for their lovely daughter, immediately gave their consent, and all preliminaries were speedily arranged for the nuptials to take place at an early date. Just at that time, Kinu, with some of her girl friends, and under the escort of her old nurse, paid a visit to the theatre. Her mother, expecting her to be the cynosure of all eyes as the bride-elect of the heir of a well-known noble family, attired her daughter in the most exquisite robes that could possibly be procured. The fashions of that period were brilliant in hue, and especially suited to Kinu's luxuriant beauty, so that when she appeared all eyes gazed with admiration and envy at the radiant vision; indeed, the audience gazed more at her than at the play. [Illustration: From earliest times Kinu and Kunizo were accustomed to play together] How inexorable are the decrees of Destiny! That day it happened that Kunizo also visited the same theatre. From his humble seat in the pit, his eyes followed the direction where everyone else was turning, and he soon descried his former friend and playfellow, seated in a prominent place and surrounded by friends and attendants as befitting her approaching exalted position. Kunizo felt a great impulse to go and speak to her, but dared not. His only solace was to gaze with ardent longing at the lovely apparition, that now seemed as far removed from him as the moth from the star. Meanwhile, it was not long before Kinu singled out, from amongst the sea of faces, the familiar features of her dear comrade of earlier days, and their glances were soon exchanging reciprocally tender messages across the intervening space. Memories of their childhood's friendship had long been secretly smouldering in their hearts, and opportunity alone was needed to fan the flame into unquenchable passion. As the lovers gazed at each other in that crowded place, both their young hearts were carried away beyond the bounds of time and circumstances, and they realized, with an overwhelming conviction, how strong were the golden fetters of love that riveted their souls to each other for all eternity. That night Kunizo returned to his humble home in a very sad and downcast frame of mind. His thoughts were busily contrasting the happy times of those bygone days, when he could frequently enjoy the society of his beloved Kinu, with now, when, as he bitterly reflected, a gulf yawned between them, as impassable as that which separates Heaven from Hell! And, brooding over the miseries of an unjust world, poor Kunizo fell sick, and was confined for days to his room. Meanwhile, the beautiful bride-elect returned to her father's mansion with her heart strangely agitated. The sight of his handsome face, so full of hopeless longing, when his eyes sought her in the theatre, had deeply affected her, and she could not forget him. At last she also fell ill, and after a time became too weak to leave her bed. She felt like a poor insect caught in the entangling meshes of a cruel Fate. The mere thought of the brilliant marriage that had been arranged by her parents became detestable to her, and tossing on her fevered pillow, long and earnest were her daily supplications to the powers above to find her some means of escape. To the faithful old nurse alone did Kinu dare to confide her tormenting troubles, and the old woman, sorely distressed at the constant fits of weeping and increasing melancholy of her stricken foster-child, at last promised to be the bearer of a message to Kunizo. Then Kinu embodied her woes in a little poem to which she composed an accompaniment on the _koto_, and she found much solace singing it repeatedly to herself in the solitude of her chamber. The nurse's sympathies being with the hapless pair, she soon found an opportunity to inform Kunizo of the love-poem that Kinu had dedicated to him, and the knowledge that his affection was requited brought such joy to his sad heart that all traces of sickness left him, and he was able to resume his usual mode of life. But not so with Kinu. Day and night the image of Kunizo alone filled her thoughts, and the more fervently she longed to see him the more her malady increased. The merchant and his wife were plunged into deep distress and anxiety concerning the mysterious ailment that had so suddenly attacked their beloved daughter: the most skilful doctors were hastily summoned to her bedside, but all their ministrations proved of no avail, and the love-smitten patient, like a wilted flower, continued to fade and droop. Now, although Kunizo had grown up amidst poor and obscure surroundings, yet he had received a good education, and had always cherished a great devotion to literature, and especially poetry, for the composition of which he had a natural gift. So when the news reached him that his lady-love was lying on a bed of sickness, he composed a little poem for her, revealing the state of his mind, and entrusted it to the care of the faithful nurse: To O KINU SAMA _So near Belovèd, yet long leagues apart_, _The ladder to thy Heaven so far and dim_, _Its steps I dare not scale_! _One night my soul a butterfly became_: _Straight to its goal thy presence sweet_, _It fluttered softly through the starlit dusk_ _Behind thy purple tasselled sudare[1]_. _What ecstasy was mine_! From KUNIZO This message brought great comfort to Kinu's heart, for until then she had merely guessed Kunizo's affection for her, and had no certain proof of it. Joyfully she wrote a little stanza in response: To KUNIZO SAMA _What matter that our weary feet_ _Tread thorny paths and wastes forlorn_ _If only we together climb_? _What matter that a hermit's hut_ _Is all our shelter from the blast_? _Beyond the mists one shining star_, _Our heart's true guide bright beckons us!_ _Earth's dust shake off, and hand in hand_ _Set out in faith to Love's lone peak!_ From KINU From that time, day by day, the enamoured pair existed on the exchange of their love-tokens, while the happiness of being in such constant and intimate intercourse with her old friend led to Kinu's sudden and complete recovery. In the meantime her parents, overjoyed at their daughter's restoration to health, and in total ignorance of all that was taking place, hastened to select an auspicious day for the marriage, and began with enthusiasm the elaborate preparations for the important event. When the hapless Kinu realized that her destiny was irrevocably sealed, and that she was condemned to become the wife of another man, she became almost frantic. Disobedience and defiance of her parent's wishes being out of the question, she pondered morning, noon, and night over the dreadful situation: but it seemed that nothing short of a miracle could prevent or even delay the marriage ceremony with the hated bridegroom. After long days and nights of futile scheming, it seemed to her distraught brain that the only line of action left to her was this: once arrived at the nobleman's house she determined, on pretence of illness, to ask permission to isolate herself in her own apartments; but should he insist on her presence, there would be but one course left to her to follow, and since it was doomed that she should not be the Bride of Love, she would become the Bride of Death. This desperate decision she communicated in her last farewell to the distracted Kunizo, and as a pledge of finality and her unshakeable resolve, she wrote the letter in blood, drawn from a self-inflicted wound on one of her fingers, and tied this ominous missive with a long tress of her silken, ebony hair. The fateful day arrived. Passively the unwilling, shrinking bride submitted to the obsequious attendants, who robed her slender form in the gorgeous wedding-garments and applied the adornments of art to enhance her pale beauty, so that when she appeared before them, the relatives and friends, who had assembled for the occasion, were enchanted, and all were loud in praise of her surpassing loveliness. At last the evening came and the hour of departure was at hand. Kinu took formal leave of her parents, and then, steeling her heart with the firm resolution to escape from the hateful bondage of this forced marriage, entered her _kago_, and was slowly borne to the house of the bridegroom, closely followed by a long procession of her parents, the go-between, and attendants. Now, it happened that some years before the young nobleman had formed a liaison with a woman, a famous _danseuse_ and singer, to whom he had been deeply attached. According to the custom of those times he had installed her in his house, and being of an ambitious nature, from the first she had cherished the hope that in time her devotion would be rewarded by becoming his legal wife, and the mistress of that noble house. When, therefore, she learnt of the death-blow to her aspirations in her lover's approaching marriage to a young bride of peerless beauty, the shock was so great as to unhinge her reason. Secretly she nursed her bitter feelings: vainly she hoped that her agonized prayers to the Gods might be heard, and that the dreaded marriage might yet be cancelled. But when the evening of the wedding-day arrived, and the lights of the bridal procession had already come into view along the road, and were slowly nearing the house, her fury could no longer be restrained. Mad with jealousy and disappointment she rushed into the garden, stabbed herself through the breast, and in a last convulsive frenzy, cast her bleeding body down the well. At that moment the massive gates were thrown open, and the bride's sumptuously lacquered _kago_ appeared, surrounded by a numerous retinue, carrying lanterns and torches. Suddenly, an unearthly gust of cold wind arose whirling wildly round the mansion, and all the lights were extinguished. In the dense gloom of that moonless night, what was the terror of everyone to behold in front of them, barring the way before the passage of the bride, the spectre of the deserted mistress! Shrouded in a cloud of pale-bluish mist, her ghastly face and blood-stained garments struck terror to the souls of the petrified spectators--her long dishevelled hair streamed behind her in the breeze, which was not of this world, and her hands were uplifted in menace towards the bride, from whose _kago_ a wild and heartpiercing shriek was heard. The bridegroom, who with a group of retainers had been impatiently awaiting the advent of Kinu at the entrance to the house, was a horrified spectator of the fearful scene. His wrath was uncontrollable. With drawn sword he rushed to the gate and made a wild attempt to cut down the wraith of his jealous paramour--but as his sword fell, in a flash the whole apparition vanished. Great was the commotion that followed, but by degrees the alarmed servants and bearers recovered from their fright, the torches and lanterns were relighted, and the door of the palanquin was opened. Alas! to all appearances the beautiful bride was dead. Like a white lily she lay back on her cushions, pale and still. Physicians were summoned in all haste, but they declared that remedies were of no avail--life was extinct. The hapless Kinu had perished. Coming as a climax to the mental anguish she had suffered, the horror of the ghastly welcome that had greeted her, was beyond the endurance of her frail spirit, and on the threshold of her new and dreaded home, it had taken wing. [Illustration: Her ghastly face and blood-stained garments struck terror to the souls of the petrified spectators] The woe of that night was unutterable. Amidst the general lamentations, Kinu's afflicted parents returned to their home, bearing with them the lifeless body of their beloved daughter: all their pride obliterated and their hopes in her brightly opening future swept away for ever by the tragedy of that fearful night. Two days later, with poignant grief, the stricken couple laid in the tomb all that was left of their cherished child, so irrevocably and cruelly torn from them by a sudden unexpected doom, and they resolved to dedicate the remnant of their days to her memory. Kunizo was the first to hear the dire news. With a breaking heart he had watched his love depart on her ill-starred journey, and, numbed with despair, from the same spot he witnessed the mournful return of the procession. Stupefied at the turn events had taken, he at once determined that her spirit should not go forth on its way alone into the darkness of the Land of Shadows, and since their paths had been so ruthlessly parted in life, compassionate Death should unite them for many lives to come. However, before he made his final exit from this world of pain, he would at least gaze once again upon the beautiful face of his beloved Kinu. With this resolve, on the night of her interment he found his way to the cemetery; the coffin was easily disinterred, and with the tools brought for that purpose, he soon succeeded in wrenching off the lid. No sooner had this been done than a miracle was wrought. Instead of lying there a pallid wraith of her former self, as Kunizo so fully expected to find the corpse of his lost love, with a faint sigh she raised herself in the narrow coffin, and turned her bewildered gaze upon her astounded deliverer. It was indeed true, the sudden rush of cold air had brought back the wandering spirit of poor Kinu. The hideous events of her wedding night had completely suspended her animation, and she had fallen into a deep trance, which had deceived everyone by its faithful semblance of Death. Who can depict the joy and transports of the young lovers, who after enduring such torments and vicissitudes, were thus miraculously restored to each other! Kunizo, almost beside himself with happiness, did his utmost to minister to his beloved lady, and when she had sufficiently recovered, he tenderly wrapped her in his outer garment and carried her in all haste to the house of an aunt, who lived at some distance, where she could be safely concealed. This relative was considerably surprised at such a visitation in the dead of night, and still more so at the almost incredible narrative of the fugitive couple. However, clearly discerning the will of Heaven in all that had passed, she willingly afforded them a shelter, and did all in her power to aid them escape from that part of the country. Under cover of the darkness they fled, and crossing the sea, arrived safely in the island of Shikoku. There, in a place called Marugame, they found another member of Kunizo's family, to whom they had been directed, who was the prosperous master of a _yadoya_, or inn, in the vicinity of the famous temple of Kompira,[2] for which that region had become famous. [Illustration: Kunizo, almost beside himself with happiness, did his utmost to minister to his beloved lady.] The fugitives received a kindly welcome, and then after all their trials and sorrows, they made their home in that flourishing country town, annually visited by thousands of pilgrims, Kinu's beauty and accomplishments winning all hearts and proving of great assistance to their benefactor. In this way, far from their native place, the united lovers spent happy years in the joy of each other's company, secure in their deep affection, which, like the flower of the enchanted bowers of Horai, the Elysian Isle, fades not, but blooms on fragrant for all eternity. Haunted by the fear that they might again be pitilessly separated from each other, and Kinu forced to fulfil her engagement to the luckless nobleman, who had been defrauded of his happiness in such a gruesome and unforeseen manner, they lived in the strictest retirement and never dared to disclose to their respective sorrowing families the wonders that had been worked in their behalf. However, some years later, Kinu's parents, who had all this time been mourning and inconsolable for their daughter's tragic end, undertook an extensive pilgrimage age to certain celebrated temples for requiem services and prayers for the repose and well-being of the soul of their lost child. In the course of their journeying they arrived at Marugame, for the temple of Kompira was included in their tour, and by a strange coincidence they came to stay at the very inn presided over by Kunizo's uncle. When they were shown into the room allotted them, the first object to meet their astonished gaze was a handsome screen on which was written a poem in skilled calligraphy. The characteristic handwriting was the facsimile of Kinu's, and the poem constantly and fondly read at home--they knew it by heart, for it was one of the treasured relics left to them by their beloved daughter. Their imaginations were deeply stirred, and in a state of great emotion at this strange occurrence, they hastily summoned their host. In a long interview the astounding story of Kinu's resurrection from the tomb and the escape of the lovers was revealed to them. Deep and boundless was their joy and gratitude to Providence at thus restoring to them, in such an amazing manner, their lost one, whom they never expected to meet again this side of the _Meido_[3] and at that happy reunion all shed tears of joy, and also of sorrow, in recalling the past. Further separation being out of the question, the old couple insisted on carrying back with them to Osaka their newly restored son and daughter, and there they all lived together long and happily: the whole neighbourhood never ceasing to marvel at the wonderful history of "how Kinu returned from the grave." [Footnote 1: _Sudáré_, a curtain of finely slatted bamboo pulled up and down by silken cords and tassels.] [Footnote 2: _Kompira_, a deity claimed by both Shintoists and Buddhists: very popular with travellers and seamen.] [Footnote 3: _Meido_, Hades.] A CHERRY-FLOWER IDYLL About one hundred years ago, in the old capital of Kyoto, there lived a young man named Taira Shunko. At the time this story opens he was about twenty years of age, of pre-possessing appearance, amiable disposition, and refined tastes, his favourite pastime being the composition of poetry. His father decided that Shunko should finish his education in Yedo, the Eastern capital, where he was accordingly sent. He proved himself an apt scholar, more clever than his comrade-students, which won him the favour of the tutor in whose charge he had been placed. Some months after his arrival in Yedo, he went to stay at his uncle's house during convalescence from a slight illness. By the time he was well again the spring had come, and the call of the cherry-flower season found a ready response in Shunko's heart, so he determined to visit Koganei, a place famous for its cherry trees. One fine morning he arose at dawn, and, equipped with a small luncheon box and a gourd filled with sake, set out on his way. In the good old days, as now, Koganei was celebrated for the beauty of its scenery in the springtime. Thousands of spreading trees formed a glorious avenue on either side the blue waters of the River Tama, and when these burst into clouds of diaphanous bloom, visitors from far and near came in crowds to join in the revel of the Queen of Flowers. Beneath the shade of the over-arching trees, tea-houses were dotted along the banks of the stream. Here, with the _shoji_[1] hospitably open on all sides, tempting meals of river-trout, bamboo shoots, and fern-curls, and sundry and manifold dainties were served to the pleasure-seeking traveller. Shunko rested at one of these river-side hostelries, refreshing himself with generous draughts from his gourd, and then opened his tiny luncheon box, the contents of which he supplemented with the delicate river-trout, fresh from the pellucid waters of the stream and artistically prepared by the tea-house cuisine. Under the influence of wine, the homesickness which had been oppressing his soul gradually took wings; he became merry, and felt as if he were at home in his own beautiful city of Kyoto. He sauntered along under the trees, singing snatches of songs in praise of this favourite flower. On every side the whole world was framed in softest clouds of ethereal bloom, which seemed to waft him along between earth and heaven. Lost in admiration at the fairy like beauty of the scene, he wandered on and on, oblivious of time, till he suddenly realized that daylight was on the wane. A zephyr sprang up, scattering the petals of the blossoms like a fall of scented snow, and as Shunko gazed around, he became aware that the last visitors had gone, and that he was left alone with only the birds twittering on their way to their nests to remind him that he, too, like the rest of belated humanity, ought to be wending his way home. However, sinking down upon a mossy bank beneath a cherry-tree, he became lost in meditation. With the aid of a portable ink-box and brush he composed some stanzas, a rhapsody on the transcendent loveliness of the cherry flowers. SONG TO THE SPIRIT OF THE CHERRY-BLOSSOM[2] _Throughout the land the Spring doth hold high Court,_ _Obedient to the call from far I come_ _To lay my tribute at thy matchless shrine,_ _To vow allegiance to the Queen of Flowers._ _How can I praise aright thy perfume sweet,_ _The heavenly pureness of thy blossom's snow:_ _Spellbound I linger in thy Kingdom fair_ _That rivets me, love's prisoner!_ _Take this poor bud of poesy to thy fragrant breast,_ _There let it hang, symbol of homage true:_ _Ne'er can perfection be acclaimed right,_ _Much less thy beauties, which are infinite! Thy by fragile petals fluttering on my robes_ _Pluck at my heart, and bind me to thy realm_. _With fairy fetters--ne'er can I leave thy bowers_ _But worship thee for evermore, my peerless Queen of_ _Flowers_! Having tied the slip of paper to a branch of the tree in whose shade he had been reclining, he turned to retrace his steps, but realized, with a start, that the twilight had merged into darkness, and the pale gleams of the crescent moon were already beginning to illumine the deep blue vault above him. During his abstraction he had wandered off the beaten-track, and was following a totally unknown path which grew more and more intricate among the hills. It had been a long day, and he was growing faint with hunger and weary from fatigue when, just as he was beginning to despair of ever finding an escape from such a labyrinth, suddenly a young girl appeared from the gloom as if by magic! By the fitful light of the lantern she was carrying, Shunko saw that she was very fair and dainty, and concluded that she was in the service of some household of rank. To his surprise she took his presence as a matter of course, and politely addressed him, with many bows: "My mistress is awaiting you. Please come and I will show you the way." Shunko was still more astonished at these words. He had never been in this wild and unknown place before, and could not imagine what human soul could know and summon him thus, at this late hour. [Illustration: Suddenly a young girl appeared from the gloom as if by magic!] After a few moment's silence he inquired of the little messenger, "Who is your mistress?" "You will understand when you see her," she replied. "My lady told me that as you had lost your way, I was to come and guide you to her house, so kindly follow me without delay." Shunko's perplexity was only increased by these words, but after reflection, he told himself that probably one of his friends must be living in Koganei without his knowledge, and he decided to follow the fair messenger without further questioning. Setting out at a swift pace, she guided him into a small valley, through which a mountain stream was murmuring in its rocky bed. It was a remote and sheltered spot. Presently a turn in the path led them to a tiny dwelling, completely surrounded and over-shadowed by a cluster of cherry-trees in full bloom. The girl stopped before the little bamboo gate. Shunko hesitated, but she turned to him with a smile. "This is the house where my mistress dwells. Be so good as to enter!" Shunko obeyed, and passed up a miniature garden to the entrance. Another little maiden appeared with a lighted candle, and ushered Shunko through several anterooms leading to a large guest-chamber, which seemed to be overhanging the crystal waters of a lake, in whose depth, like golden flowers, he could see the reflection of myriad stars. He noticed that the appointments were all of a most sumptuous description. Cherry-blossoms formed the keynote of the decorations; the screens were all planted with the flowering branches, clusters of them adorned the _tokonoma_; while the high-standing candlesticks were of massive silver, as were also the charcoal braziers, the glow of which drove out the chill of the spring evening. Beautiful _crêpe_ cushions were placed beside the braziers, as if in expectation of a welcome guest; while the perfume of rare incense, mingling with the delicious fragrance of cherry-blossom, floated through the room. Shunko was too bewildered and too exhausted by his long wanderings to indulge in reflections. With the unreal sensations of an errant hero of a fairy tale, he sank upon the mats and waited, wondering what would happen next. Suddenly, the rustle of silken garments arrested his attention; noiselessly the screens of the room slid back, and the apparition of a beautiful maiden appeared, exquisitely graceful in her trailing robes. She was in the prime of youth, and could not have been more than seventeen years of age. Her dress, in which the skies of spring seemed to be reflected, was the hue of a rich azure blue, and the _crêpe_ fabric was half concealed beneath sprays of cherry-bloom so deftly worked, and with such a moonlit sheen upon them, that Shunko thought that they must have been woven from the moonbeams of the serene far-off moon for the Goddess of Spring. Her face was so perfect that the wondering guest was speechless at the loveliness of the vision before him. Never had he dreamed of such beauty, although he came from Kyoto, the city of beautiful women. The fair hostess, noting his embarrassment, laughed softly, as she took her seat beside one of the silver braziers, and with a gentle gesture of the hand assigned him the companion place opposite her. Bowing to the ground, she said: "Ever have I lived alone in this place with only the river and the hills for my friends. So that your coming is a great joy and consolation to me. It is my wish to prepare a feast of welcome for you, but alas! in the depths of the woods, there is nothing meet for an honoured guest, but, poor as our entertainment is, I beg you, not to despise it." A servant then appeared bearing trays of delicious dishes, with a golden wine flagon and a crystal cup. At the sound of her voice, enchantment seemed to weave a subtle net around the bewildered Shunko; a languorous feeling of delight stole over his senses, and he yielded himself to the mysterious charm of the hour. His lovely hostess proffered to her guest the crystal winecup, and filled it to the brim with amber wine from the golden flask. As Shunko quaffed it, he thought never had such delicious nectar been tasted by mortal man. He could not resist cup after cup, till gradually all apprehension of the unknown surroundings passed away, and a strange gladness filled his heart as he succumbed to the charm of the hour, while servants silently went to and fro bearing fresh and tempting dainties to lay before him. While they were conversing happily together the lady left his side, and seating herself beside the _koto_, began to sing a wild and beautiful air. Strange and wonderful to relate, the song was none other than the self-same poem which Shunko had composed that very evening, and had left fluttering from the branch of the cherry-tree beneath whose canopy of bloom he had rested. Falling completely under the bewitchment of his surroundings, Shunko felt that he wished to stay there for evermore, and a pang smote his breast at the thought that he soon must separate, if only for a few hours, from his mystic lady of the vale of cherry-blossoms. As the last plaintive chord throbbed into silence, a chime in the next room struck two in the morning. Laying the instrument aside, she said: "At this late hour it is impossible for you to return home to-night. Everything is prepared in the next room. Honourably deign to rest. Forgive me that I cannot entertain you in a more befitting manner, in this, our poor home." Attendants then entering, the screens were drawn aside for their guest, and he passed into the adjoining chamber, which had been prepared as a sleeping apartment. Sinking to rest among the silken coverlets and luxurious quilts, he was soon lost in heavy slumber. [Illustration: His beautiful hostess, seating herself beside the _koto_ began to sing a wild and beautiful air.] Suddenly, in the morning, he was awakened by a cold wind blowing across his face. Day had broken, and the rosy dawn was flushing the horizon in the east. Slowly returning to his senses, he found himself lying on the ground beneath the very cherry-tree that had inspired his poem of the day before; but his wonderful adventure, his charming hostess, and her waiting maidens were no more! Shunko, lost in wonder, recalled over and over again the glowing memories of the preceding evening, but the vision had been so vivid that he felt assured it must have been something more than the mere phantoms of a dream. An overpowering conviction crept over him that the lovely maiden had her living counterpart in this world of realities. From his earliest childhood he had always offered a special devotion to the cherry-flowers. Year after year, in the springtime, he had taken special joy in visiting some place noted for their blossoms. Could it be that the spirit of the cherry-tree, to whose beauty he had dedicated his poem, had appeared to him in human form to reward him for his life-long fidelity? At last he rose and stretched his cramped limbs, and musing only on the vanished wonders of the night, wandered aimlessly along. At length he regained the main road and slowly turned his errant footsteps towards home. Although he took up his usual life again, he could not forget his experiences in the cherry-blossom valley, they haunted him not only in the silent watches of the night, but in the bright noontide of day. Three days later he returned to Koganei, with the fond hope of evoking once again the longed-for vision of the lovely girl who had so bewitched him with her beauty and her charm. But, alas for human hopes! In those short days all had changed. What so ephemeral as the reign of the cherry-flower in the spring! Grey were the skies that had been so blue and fair; bleak and deserted was the scene that had been so gay and full of life; bare of blossom, and stripped of their fairy beauty were the trees, whose petals of blushing-snow the relentless wind had scattered far and wide. As before, he rested at the same little tea-house by the river and waited for the shades of evening to fall. Roaming about in the deepening twilight, he anxiously sought some sign or token, but vain were all his efforts to find the valley of dream again. Vanished was the little dwelling in the shadow of the cherry groves. Nowhere by unfamiliar paths could he find the fair messenger who had guided him to the bamboo gate. All had faded and suffered change. Year after year, in the springtime, did Shunko make a pilgrimage of loving memory to the same spot, but though his faithfulness was never rewarded by a sight of her, who had so completely taken possession of his heart and soul, yet the flower of hope never faded, and firm was his resolution, that none other than the maiden of Koganei should ever be his wife. About five years passed. Then a sudden summons from his home arrived, bearing the sorrowful tidings that his father had been stricken with severe illness, and begging him to return without delay. That very day he made all arrangements, and disposed of his few student's belongings in readiness to set out at daybreak. It happened to be the season of autumn when, in the Orient, the deer cries for its mate in the flaming maple glades of the forest, and a young man's heart[3] is filled with what the Japanese call _mono no aware wo shiru_ ("the Ah-ness of things"). Shunko was sad. He yearned for the lovely girl who had so bewitched him, and in addition to this sorrow his heart was heavy at the thought of his father's illness. As Shunko proceeded on his journey his depression increased, and sadly he repeated aloud the following lines: _Cold as the wind of early spring_ _Chilling the buds that still lie sheathed_ _In their brown armour with its sting,_ _And the bare branches withering--_ _So seems the human heart to me!_ _Cold as the March wind's bitterness;_ _I am alone, none comes to see_ _Or cheer me in these days of stress._ Now it chanced that an old man heard this mournful recital, and took pity on Shunko. "Pray pardon a stranger intruding upon your privacy," said the old man, "but we sometimes take a gloomy view of life for want of good cheer. It may be that you have travelled far and are footsore and weary. If that is so, be honourably pleased to accept rest and refreshment in my humble house in yonder valley." Shunko was pleased with the old man's kindly manner, and warmly accepted his hospitality. After a hearty meal and a long chat with the old man, Shunko retired to bed. The youth had no sooner closed his eyes than he found himself dreaming of Koganei and of the beautiful woman he had met there. A gentle breeze was full of the scent of flowers. He noticed a cloud of cherry-blossom falling like a little company of white butterflies to the ground. While watching so pleasing a scene he observed a strip of paper hanging to one of the lower branches. He advanced close to the tree to discover that some one had written a poem on the wind-blown paper. A thrill passed through him as he read the words: _Lingers still the past within thy memory_, _East of the Temple let thy footsteps stray_ _And there await thy destiny!_ Earnestly he repeated the lines over and over again, and awoke to find himself still reciting the little verse that seemed so full of meaning. Deeply he pondered over his dream. How could he solve the enigmatic message it surely bore for him? What did it portend? The next day he set out on his journey to the west. His father was in the last stages of his malady, and the doctors had given up all hope of his recovery. In a few weeks the old man died, and Shunko succeeded to the estate. It was a sad winter, and the young man with his widowed mother, were secluded in the house for some months, observing the strictest retirement during the period of mourning. But youth soon recovers from its griefs, and by the time that April had come with the dear beguilement of her blue skies and flowering landscapes, Shunko, in company with an old friend, set out to assuage his sorrows in the viewing of his favourite cherry-trees, and to find balm for his soul in the golden sunshine of spring. His father's death, and the business of attending to the affairs of succession, had left him but little leisure for vain regrets, and the family upheaval he had experienced the last few months had somewhat dimmed the memory of the mysterious dream, which had come to him the night before his return home. But now, with a strange and eerie sensation, he realized that, unwittingly, Fate had guided their footsteps to the Eastern Mountain, and that the way they had chosen was _East of the Temple_ Chionin. The message on the scroll flashed into his mind as he sauntered along: _Lingers still the past within thy memory?_ _East of the Temple let thy footsteps stray,_ _And there await thy destiny!_ By this time they had reached the famous avenue of cherry-trees, and the pearly mist of bloom, that seemed to envelope them like a fragrant cloud, at once recalled to Shunko's mind how striking was the resemblance this fairy-like spot bore to Koganei. Just at that moment he espied a small glittering object lying on the ground at the root of one of the cherry-trees. It proved to be a golden ring, and engraven on it was the hieroglyphic "Hana," which may be interpreted as meaning either "Flower" or "Cherry-Blossom." As the afternoon began to wane they came to a tea-house, which seemed to look especially inviting, and here they rested and refreshed their weariness as the shadows gradually lengthened into the twilight. In the next room were two or three girls' voices talking gaily together, and their laughter sounded soft and musical as it floated out into the balmy air of that soft evening of spring. By degrees Shunko found himself overhearing snatches of their conversation, and at length he distinctly caught the words: "The day has been a perfect one except for one little cloud. O Hana San's ring...." Then a silvery voice made answer: "The mere loss of the ring is nothing, but as it bears my name, it grieves me that it should fall into the hands of a stranger." At these words Shunko impetuously rose and entered the adjoining chamber. "Pardon me," he cried, "but can this be the lost ring?" and he held out to the little group the trinket which he had found beneath the cherry-tree that afternoon. The youngest of the trio, a graceful girl of about seventeen or eighteen summers, bowed to the ground, murmuring her thanks, while an elderly woman, who was evidently her foster-nurse, came forward to receive the missing treasure. As the young girl raised her head, Shunko felt a thrilling shock of recognition quiver through his frame. At last the gods had granted his fervent prayers. Before him, as a living and breathing reality, he beheld the long sought maiden of the vision at Koganei. The room, its occupants, and all around him faded away, and his soul was wafted back through the vista of years to the lonely valley of dreams, so far away. This, then, was the significance of the mystic writing in the deserted house, that now he had served his term of probation and was at last deemed worthy of the beloved one for whom he had waited and longed for so many years. The elderly nurse was aware of his embarrassment, and tactfully attempted to come to his aid. She proffered wine and refreshments, and made several inquiries as to where he had found the ring and where he lived. After replying to these queries, Shunko, who was in no mood for talking, withdrew with deep obeisances, and slowly wended his way homewards, lost in abstraction. Oh, the delight of it! To be alone with his reverie and thoughts of her, whom he had scarcely hoped to see again, the lady of his dreams! Both head and heart were in a whirl. And the wonder of his adventure kept him awake through the midnight darkness. Only at the break of dawn did he fall into a troubled sleep. Towards noon his belated slumbers were disturbed by a servant, who came to announce the advent of a visitor, who urgently desired an interview. He arose in haste, and there awaiting him in the guest-room was the foster-nurse of the day before. Rich gifts of silk lay on the mats, and with the explanation that she had been sent by the parents of her young charge, she came to express their thanks for the incident of the day before. When the formalities of greeting were exchanged, Shunko could no longer keep silence regarding the subject nearest his heart, and begged the nurse to tell him, in confidence, all she could concerning O Hana San. "My young mistress belongs to a knightly family. There are three children in all, but she is the only girl, and the youngest child. She is just seventeen years of age, and is quite renowned for her beauty, which, as you have seen her, you may perhaps understand. Many have ardently desired her hand in marriage, but hitherto all have been declined. She cares nothing for worldly things and devotes herself to study." "Why does she refuse to marry?" asked the young man, with a beating heart. "Ah! there is a strange reason for that!" replied the nurse, and her voice dropped to a whisper. "Several years ago, when she was not much more than a child, her mother and I took her to visit the beautiful Kiyomidzu Temple in the springtime to see the cherry-flowers. As you know, Kwannon, the Goddess of Mercy of that temple, takes under her protection all lovers who pray to her for a happy union, and the railings round her shrine are white with the tying of paper-prayer love-knots innumerable. O Hana's mother told me afterwards that when we passed before Kwannon's altar, she had offered up a special prayer for her daughter's future happiness in marriage. "While we were walking in the vicinity of the waterfall below the temple, we suddenly lost sight of Hana for a few minutes. It seems that, wrapt in wonder at the beauty of the blossoming trees, she had strayed away, and was listening to the foaming water as it dashed over the boulders of rock. Suddenly, a gust of wind blew over us. It was icy cold! We looked round for O Hana San, and you can imagine the fear that seized our hearts when we found that she had disappeared. In a frenzy of anxiety I ran hither and thither, and at last caught sight of her prostrate on the ground at some distance away. She had fallen into a deep faint near the cascade, and was lying there pale and senseless, and drenched with spray. We carried her to the nearest tea-house, and tried every means in our power to restore her to consciousness, but she remained sunk in a deep swoon all through that long, long day. Her mother wept, fearing that she was dead. When the sun set and no change took place, we were lost in the anguish of despair. All of a sudden an old priest appeared before us. Staff in hand, and clad in ancient and dilapidated garments, he seemed an apparition from some past and bygone age. He gazed long at the senseless girl, lying white and cold in the semblance of death, and then sank on his knees by her side, absorbed in silent prayer, now and again gently stroking her inanimate body with his rosary. "All through the night we watched thus by O Hana San, and never did hours seem so interminable or so black. At last, towards the dawn, success crowned the old man's efforts; the spell that had so mysteriously changed her youth and bloom into a pallid mask, was gradually exorcised, her spirit returned, and with a gentle sigh, O Hana San was restored to life. "Her mother was transported with joy. When she was able to speak, she murmured, 'Praise be to the mercy of the holy Kwannon of Kiyomidzu!' and again and again she expressed her fervent gratitude to the queer priest. [Illustration: An old priest suddenly appeared ... staff in hand and clad in ancient and dilapidated garments.] "In answer he took from the folds of his robe a poem-card, which he handed to my mistress. "'This,' said he, 'was written by your daughter's future bridegroom. In a few years he will come to claim her, therefore keep this poem as the token.' "With these words he disappeared as unexpectedly and mysteriously as he had come. Great was our desire to know more of the meaning of those fateful words, but though we made inquiries of everyone in the temple grounds, not a soul had seen a trace of the ancient priest. O Hana San seemed none the worse for her long swoon, and we returned home, marvelling greatly at the extraordinary events that had happened to us that day and night in the temple of Kiyomidzu. "From that time onwards I noticed a great change in O Hana San. She was no longer a child. Though only thirteen years of age, she grew serious and thoughtful, and studied her books with great diligence. In music she especially excelled, and all were astonished at her great talent. As she grew in years, her amiability and charm became quite noted in the neighbourhood: her mother realizes that she is at the zenith of her youth and beauty, and, many a time, has tried to find the author of the poem, but hitherto her efforts have been of no avail. "Yesterday we had the good fortune to meet you, and if you will forgive my boldness, it seemed to me as though Fate had especially directed you to my foster-child. On our return home, we related all that had befallen us to my mistress. She listened to our recital with deep agitation, and then exclaimed, with joy: 'Thanks be to Heaven I At last the long-sought for one has come!'" Shunko felt as if in a trance. Full well he knew that the Gods had guided his footsteps to their yearned-for goal, and the maiden to whom he had restored the little golden circlet, was none other than the one for whom his heart had hungered for many years. It was, indeed, a supreme Fate that had linked their lives in one. In taking farewell of the old nurse, Shunko entrusted to her his message to his bride-elect--the mysterious token of affinity composed beneath the cherry-tree five years ago. There was no longer any doubt but that O Hana's destiny was indeed fulfilled. The bridegroom, foretold by the age-old priest, had come at last. Her mother's prayer offered up at the temple of the Kwannon of Kiyomidzu had been heard. Both parents rejoiced at the happy fate that the Powers above had vouchsafed to their beloved child, an eminent sooth-sayer was consulted, and a specially auspicious day was chosen for the wedding. When the excitement of the bridal feast was over and Shunko was left alone with his lovely bride, he noticed that her wedding-robe of turquoise blue, scattered over with embroideries of her name-flower, was the self-same one that had been worn by his visionary hostess; and, moreover, comparisons proved that the date of her long trance at Kiyomidzu was identical with that of his prophetic vision at Koganei. A great gladness filled the bridegroom's heart, for he felt that in some mystical way his bride and dream-love were one and the same incarnate. The spirit of the cherry-tree had surely entered into Hana when she had lost consciousness at the Kiyomidzu temple, and En-musubi no Kami, the God of Marriage, had assumed the disguise of the old priest, and with the magnetic threads of love, had woven their destinies together. And Shunko tenderly caressed his bride, saying: "I have known and loved and waited for you ever since your spirit came to me from the Kiyomidzu temple." And he told her all that had befallen him at Koganei. The young lovers thereupon pledged their love to each other for many lives to come, and lived blissfully to the end of their days. [Footnote 1: _Shoji_, the sliding screens which take the place of doors in a Japanese house.] [Footnote 2: Rendered into English verse by my friend, Countess Iso-ko-Mutsu.] [Footnote 3: At this point there is a break in Madame Ozaki's MS., and the gap has been filled up by another hand. Madame Ozaki resumes her story with "A thrill passed through him...." on p. 252.] THE BADGER-HAUNTED TEMPLE[1] Once long ago, in southern Japan, in the town of Kumamoto, there lived a young _samurai_, who had a great devotion to the sport of fishing. Armed with his large basket and tackle, he would often start out in the early morning and pass the whole day at his favourite pastime, returning home only at nightfall. One fine day he had more than usual luck. In the late afternoon, when he examined his basket, he found it full to overflowing. Highly delighted at his success, he wended his way homewards with a light heart, singing snatches of merry songs as he went along. It was already dusk when he happened to pass a deserted Buddhist temple. He noticed that the gate stood half open, and hung loosely on its rusty hinges, and the whole place had a dilapidated and tumbledown appearance. What was the young man's astonishment to see, in striking contrast to such a forlorn environment, a pretty young girl standing just within the gate. As he approached she came forward, and looking at him with a meaning glance, smiled, as if inviting him to enter into conversation. The _samurai_ thought her manner somewhat strange, and at first was on his guard. Some mysterious influence, however, compelled him to stop, and he stood irresolutely admiring the fair young face, blooming like a flower in its sombre setting. When she noticed his hesitation she made a sign to him to approach. Her charm was so great and the smile with which she accompanied the gesture so irresistible, that half-unconsciously, he went up the stone steps, passed through the semi-open portal, and entered the courtyard where she stood awaiting him. The maiden bowed courteously, then turned and led the way up the stone-flagged pathway to the temple. The whole place was in the most woeful condition, and looked as if it had been abandoned for many years. When they reached what had once been the priest's house, the _samurai_ saw that the interior of the building was in a better state of preservation than the outside led one to suppose. Passing along the veranda into the front room, he noticed that the _tatami_ were still presentable, and that a sixfold screen adorned the chamber. The girl gracefully motioned her guest to sit down in the place of honour near the alcove. "Does the priest of the temple live here?" asked the young man, seating himself. "No," answered the girl, "there is no priest here now. My mother and I only came here yesterday. She has gone to the next village to buy some things and may not be able to come back to-night. But honourably rest awhile, and let me give you some refreshment." [Illustration: What was the young man's astonishment to see a pretty young girl standing just within the gate] The girl then went into the kitchen apparently to make the tea, but though the guest waited a long time, she never returned. By this time the moon had risen, and shone so brightly into the room, that it was as light as day. The _samurai_ began to wonder at the strange behaviour of the damsel, who had inveigled him into such a place only to disappear and leave him in solitude. Suddenly he was startled by some one sneezing loudly behind the screen. He turned his head in the direction from whence the sound came. To his utter amazement, not the pretty girl whom he had expected, but a huge, red-faced, bald-headed priest stalked out. He must have been about seven feet in height, for his head towered nearly to the ceiling, and he carried an iron wand, which he raised in a threatening manner. "How dare you enter my house without my permission?" shouted the fierce-looking giant. "Unless you go away at once I will beat you into dust." Frightened out of his wits, the young man took to his heels, and rushed with all speed out of the temple. As he fled across the courtyard he heard peals of loud laughter behind him. Once outside the gate he stopped to listen, and still the strident laugh continued. Suddenly it occurred to him, that in the alarm of his hasty exit, he had forgotten his basket of fish. It was left behind in the temple. Great was his chagrin, for never before had he caught so much fish in a single day; but lacking the courage to go back and demand it, there was no alternative but to return home empty-handed, before had he caught so much fish in a single day; but lacking the courage to go back and demand it, there was no alternative but to return home empty-handed. The following day he related his strange experience to several of his friends. They were all highly amused at such an adventure, and some of them plainly intimated that the seductive maiden and the aggressive giant were merely hallucinations that owed their origin to the sake flask. At last one man, who was a good fencer, said: "Oh, you must have been deluded by a badger who coveted your fish. No one lives in that temple. It has been deserted ever since I can remember. I will go there this evening and put an end to his mischief." He then went to a fishmonger, purchased a large basket of fish, and borrowed an angling rod. Thus equipped, he waited impatiently for the sun to set. When the dusk began to fall he buckled on his sword and set out for the temple, carefully shouldering his bait that was to lead to the undoing of the badger. He laughed confidently to himself as he said: "I will teach the old fellow a lesson!" As he approached the ruin what was his surprise to see, not one, but three girls standing there. "O, ho! that is the way the wind lies, is it, but the crafty old sinner won't find it such an easy matter to make a fool of me." No sooner was he observed by the pretty trio than by gestures they invited him to enter. Without any hesitation, he followed them into the building, and boldly seated himself upon the mats. They placed the customary tea and cakes before him, and then brought in a flagon of wine and an extraordinarily large cup. The swordsman partook neither of the tea nor the sake, and shrewdly watched the demeanour of the three maidens. Noticing his avoidance of the proffered refreshment, the prettiest of them artlessly inquired: "Why don't you take some sake?" "I dislike both tea and sake," replied the valiant guest, "but if you have some accomplishment to entertain me with, if you can dance or sing, I shall be delighted to see you perform." "Oh, what an old-fashioned man of propriety you are! If you don't drink, you surely know nothing of love either. What a dull existence yours must be! But we can dance a little, so if you will condescend to look, we shall be very pleased to try to amuse you with our performance, poor as it is." The maidens then opened their fans and began to posture and dance. They exhibited so much skill and grace, however, that the swordsman was astonished, for it was unusual that country girls should be so deft and well-trained. As he watched them he became more and more fascinated, and gradually lost sight of the object of his mission. Lost in admiration, he followed their every step, their every movement, and as the Japanese storyteller says, he forgot himself entirely, entranced at the beauty of their dancing. Suddenly he saw that the three performers had become _headless!_ Utterly bewildered, he gazed at them intently to make sure that he was not dreaming. Lo! and behold! each was holding her own head in her hands. They then threw them up and caught them as they fell. Like children playing a game of ball, they tossed their heads from one to the other. At last the boldest of the three threw her head at the young fencer. It fell on his knees, looked up in his face, and laughed at him. Angered at the girl's impertinence, he cast the head back at her in disgust, and drawing his sword, made several attempts to cut down the goblin dancer as she glided to and fro playfully tossing up her head and catching it. But she was too quick for him, and like lightning darted out of the reach of his sword. "Why don't you catch me?" she jeered mockingly. Mortified at his failure, he made another desperate attempt, but once more she adroitly eluded him, and sprang up to the top of the screen. "I am here! Can you not reach me this time?" and she laughed at him in derision. Again he made a thrust at her, but she proved far too nimble for him, and again, for the third time, he was foiled. Then the three girls tossed their heads on their respective necks, shook them at him, and with shouts of weird laughter they vanished from sight. As the young man came to his senses he vaguely gazed around. Bright moonlight illumined the whole place, and the stillness of the midnight was unbroken save for the thin tinkling chirping of the insects. He shivered as he realized the lateness of the hour and the wild loneliness of that uncanny spot. His basket of fish was nowhere to be seen. He understood, that he, too, had come under the spell of the wizard-badger, and like his friend, at whom he had laughed so heartily the day before, he had been bewitched by the wily creature. But, although deeply chagrined at having fallen such an easy dupe, he was powerless to take any sort of revenge. The best he could do was to accept his defeat and return home. Among his friends there was a doctor, who was not only a brave man, but one full of resource. On hearing of the way the mortified swordsman had been bamboozled, he said: "Now leave this to me. Within three days I will catch that old badger and punish him well for all his diabolical tricks." The doctor went home and prepared a savoury dish cooked with meat. Into this he mixed some deadly poison. He then cooked a second portion for himself. Taking these separate dishes and a bottle of sake with him, towards evening he set out for the ruined temple. When he reached the mossy courtyard of the old building he found it solitary and deserted. Following the example of his friends, he made his way into the priest's room, intensely curious to see what might befall him, but, contrary to his expectation, all was empty and still. He knew that goblin-badgers were such crafty animals that it was almost impossible for anyone, however cautious, to be able to cope successfully with their snares and _Fata Morganas_. But he determined to be particularly wide awake and on his guard, so as not to fall a prey to any hallucination that the badger might raise. The night was beautiful, and calm as the mouldering tombs in the temple graveyard. The full moon shone brightly over the great black sloping roofs, and cast a flood of light into the room where the doctor was patiently awaiting the mysterious foe. The minutes went slowly by, an hour elapsed, and still no ghostly visitant appeared. At last the baffled intruder placed his flask of wine before him and began to make preparations for his evening meal, thinking that possibly the badger might be unable to resist the tempting savour of the food. "There is nothing like solitude," he mused aloud. "What a perfect night it is! How lucky I am to have found this deserted temple from which to view the silvery glory of the autumn moon." For some time he continued to eat and drink, smacking his lips like a country gourmet in enjoyment of the meal. He began to think that the badger, knowing that he had found his match at last, Intended to leave him alone. Then to his delight, he heard the sound of footsteps. He watched the entrance to the room, expecting the old wizard to assume his favourite disguise, and that some pretty maiden would come to cast a spell upon him with her fascinations. [Illustration: Suddenly he saw that the three performers had become _headless_!... Like children playing a game of ball, they tossed their heads from one to the other] But, to his surprise, who should come into sight but an old priest, who dragged himself into the room with faltering steps and sank down upon the mats with a deep long-drawn sigh of weariness. Apparently between seventy and eighty years of age, his clothes were old and travel-stained, and in his withered hands he carried a rosary. The effort of ascending the steps had evidently been a great trial to him, he breathed heavily and seemed in a state of great exhaustion. His whole appearance was one to arouse pity in the heart of the beholder. "May I inquire who are you?" asked the doctor. The old man replied, in a quavering voice, "I am the priest who used to live here many years ago when the temple was in a prosperous condition. As a youth I received my training here under the abbot then in charge, having been dedicated from childhood to the service of the most holy Buddha by my parents. At the time of the great Saigo's rebellion I was sent to another parish. When the castle of Kumamoto was besieged, alas! my own temple was burned to the ground. For years I wandered from place to place and fell on very hard times. In my old age and misfortunes my heart at last yearned to come back to this temple, where I spent so many happy years as an acolyte. It is my hope to spend my last days here. You can imagine my grief when I found it utterly abandoned, sunk in decay, with no priest in charge to offer up the daily prayers to the Lord Buddha, or to keep up the rites for the dead buried here. It is now my sole desire to collect money and to restore the temple. But alas! age and illness and want of food have robbed me of my strength, and I fear that I shall never be able to achieve what I have planned," and here the old man broke down and shed tears--a pitiful sight. When wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his threadbare robe, he looked hungrily at the food and wine on which the doctor was regaling himself, and added, wistfully: "Ah, I see you have a delicious meal there and wine withal, which you are enjoying while gazing at the moonlit scenery. I pray you spare me a little, for it is many days since I have had a good meal and I am half-famished." At first the doctor was persuaded that the story was true, so plausible did it sound, and his heart was filled with compassion for the old bonze. He listened carefully till the melancholy recital was finished. Then something in the accent of speech struck his ear as being different to that of a human being, and he reflected. "This may be the badger! I must not allow myself to be deceived! The crafty cunning animal is planning to palm off his customary tricks on me, but he shall see that I am as clever as he is." The doctor pretended to believe in the old man's story, and answered: "Indeed, I deeply sympathize with your misfortunes. You are quite welcome to share my meal--nay, I will give you with pleasure all that is left, and, moreover, I promise to bring you some more to-morrow. I will also inform my friends and acquaintances of your pious plan to restore the temple, and will give all the assistance in my power in your work of collecting subscriptions." He then pushed forward the untouched plate of food which contained poison, rose from the mats, and took his leave, promising to return the next evening. All the friends of the doctor who had heard him boast that he would outwit the badger, arrived early next morning, curious to know what had befallen him. Many of them were very sceptical regarding the tale of the badger trickster, and ascribed the illusions of their friends to the sake bottle. The doctor would give no answer to their many inquiries, but merely invited them to accompany him. "Come and see for yourselves," he said, and guided them to the old temple, the scene of so many uncanny experiences. First of all they searched the room where he had sat the evening before, but nothing was to be found except the empty basket in which he had carried the food for himself and the badger. They investigated the whole place thoroughly, and at last, in one of the dark corners of the temple-chamber, they came upon the dead body of an old, old badger. It was the size of a large dog, and its hair was grey with age. Everyone was convinced that it must be at least several hundred years old. The doctor carried it home in triumph. For several days the people in the neighbourhood came in large numbers to gloat over the hoary carcase, and to listen in awe and wonder to the marvellous stories of the numbers of people that had been duped and befooled by the magic powers of the old goblin-badger. The writer adds that he was told another badger story concerning the same temple. Many of the old people in the parish remember the incident, and one of them related the following story. Years before, when the sacred building was still in a prosperous state, the priest in charge celebrated a great Buddhist festival, which lasted some days. Amongst the numerous devotees who attended the services he noticed a very handsome youth, who listened with profound reverence, unusual in one so young, to the sermons and litanies. When the festival was over and the other worshippers had gone, he lingered around the temple as though loth to leave the sacred spot. The head-priest, who had conceived a liking for the lad, judged from his refined and dignified appearance that he must be the son of a high-class _samurai_ family, probably desirous of entering the priesthood. Gratified by the youth's apparent religious fervour, the holy man invited him to come to his study, and thereupon gave him some instruction in the Buddhist doctrines. He listened with the utmost attention for the whole afternoon to the bonze's learned discourse, and thanked him repeatedly for the condescension and trouble he had taken in instructing one so unworthy as himself. [Illustration: In one of the dark comers of the temple-chamber, they came upon the dead body of an old, old badger] The afternoon waned and the hour for the evening meal came round. The priest ordered a bowl of macaroni to be brought for the visitor, who proved to be the owner of a phenomenal appetite, and consumed three times as much as a full-grown man. He then bowed most courteously and asked permission to return home. In bidding him good-bye, the priest, who felt a curious fascination for the youth, presented him with a gold-lacquered medicine-box (_inro_) as a parting souvenir. The lad prostrated himself in gratitude, and then took his departure. The next day the temple servant, sweeping the graveyard, came across a badger. He was quite dead, and was dressed in a straw-covering put on in such a way as to resemble the clothes of a human being. To his side was tied a gold-lacquered _inro_, and his paunch was much distended and as round as a large bowl. It was evident that the creature's gluttony had been the cause of his death, and the priest, on seeing the animal, identified the _inro_ as the one which he had bestowed upon the good-looking lad the day before, and knew that he had been the victim of a badger's deceiving wiles. It was thus certain that the temple had been haunted by a pair of goblin-badgers, and that when this one had died, its mate had continued to inhabit the same temple even after it had been abandoned. The creature had evidently taken a fantastic delight in bewitching wayfarers and travellers, or anyone who carried delectable food with them, and while mystifying them with his tricks and illusions, had deftly abstracted their baskets and bundles, and had lived comfortably upon his stolen booty. [Footnote 1: The badger and the fox as tricksters figure largely in Japanese superstition and folk-lore.] 
13603	----	Team. This file was produced from images generously made available by the Bibliotheque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at http://gallica.bnf.fr THE HAWAIIAN ROMANCE OF LAIEIKAWAI WITH INTRODUCTION AND TRANSLATION BY MARTHA WARREN BECKWITH [Illustration: A KAHUNA OR NATIVE SORCERER] PREFACE This work of translation has been undertaken out of love for the land of Hawaii and for the Hawaiian people. To all those who have generously aided to further the study I wish to express my grateful thanks. I am indebted to the curator and trustees of the Bishop Museum for so kindly placing at my disposal the valuable manuscripts in the museum collection, and to Dr. Brigham, Mr. Stokes, and other members of the museum staff for their help and suggestions, as well as to those scholars of Hawaiian who have patiently answered my questions or lent me valuable material--to Mr. Henry Parker, Mr. Thomas Thrum, Mr. William Rowell, Miss Laura Green, Mr. Stephen Desha, Judge Hazelden of Waiohinu, Mr. Curtis Iaukea, Mr. Edward Lilikalani, and Mrs. Emma Nawahi. Especially am I indebted to Mr. Joseph Emerson, not only for the generous gift of his time but for free access to his entire collection of manuscript notes. My thanks are also due to the hosts and hostesses through whose courtesy I was able to study in the field, and to Miss Ethel Damon for her substantial aid in proof reading. Nor would I forget to record with grateful appreciation those Hawaiian interpreters whose skill and patience made possible the rendering into English of their native romance--Mrs. Pokini Robinson of Maui, Mr. and Mrs. Kamakaiwi of Pahoa, Hawaii, Mrs. Kama and Mrs. Supé of Kalapana, and Mrs. Julia Bowers of Honolulu. I wish also to express my thanks to those scholars in this country who have kindly helped me with their criticism--to Dr. Ashley Thorndike, Dr. W.W. Lawrence, Dr. A.C.L. Brown, and Dr. A.A. Goldenweiser. I am indebted also to Dr. Roland Dixon for bibliographical notes. Above all, thanks are due to Dr. Franz Boas, without whose wise and helpful enthusiasm this study would never have been undertaken. MARTHA WARREN BECKWITH. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY, October, 1917. CONTENTS Introduction I. The book and its writer II. Nature and the Gods as reflected in the story 1. Polynesian origin of Hawaiian romance 2. Polynesian cosmogony 3. The demigod as hero 4. The earthly paradise; divinity in man and nature 5. The story: its mythical character 6. The story as a reflection of aristocratic social life III. The art of composition 1. Aristocratic nature of Polynesian art 2. Nomenclature: its emotional value 3. Analogy: its pictorial quality 4. The double meaning; plays on words 5. Constructive elements of style IV. Conclusions Persons in the story Action of the story Background of the story Text and translation Chapter I. The birth of the Princess[A] II. The flight to Paliuli III. Kauakahialii meets the Princess VI. Aiwohikupua goes to woo the Princess V. The boxing match with Cold-nose VI. The house thatched with bird feathers VII. The Woman of the Mountain VIII. The refusal of the Princess IX. Aiwohikupua deserts his sisters X. The sisters' songs XI. Abandoned in the forest XII. Adoption by the Princess XIII. Hauailiki goes surf riding XIV. The stubbornness of Laieikawai XV. Aiwohikupua meets the guardians of Paliuli XVI. The Great Lizard of Paliuli XVII. The battle between the Dog and the Lizard XVIII. Aiwohikupua's marriage with the Woman of the Mountain XIX. The rivalry of Hina and Poliahu XX. A suitor is found for the Princess XXI. The Rascal of Puna wins the Princess XXII. Waka's revenge XXIII. The Puna Rascal deserts the Princess XXIV. The marriage of the chiefs XXV. The Seer finds the Princess XXVI. The Prophet of God XXVII. A journey to the Heavens XXVIII. The Eyeball-of-the-Sun XXIX. The warning of vengeance XXX. The coming of the Beloved XXXI. The Beloved falls into sin XXXII. The Twin Sister XXXIII. The Woman of Hana XXXIV. The Woman of the Twilight [Footnote A: The titles of chapters are added for convenience in reference and are not found in the text.] Notes on the text Appendix: Abstracts from Hawaiian stories I. Song of Creation, as translated by Liliuokalani II. Chants relating to the origin of the group III. Hawaiian folk tales, romances, or moolelo Index to references ILLUSTRATIONS PLATE 91. A kahuna or native sorcerer 92. In the forests of Puna 93. A Hawaiian paddler 94. Mauna Kea in its mantle of snow 95. A native grass house of the humbler class INTRODUCTION I. THE BOOK AND ITS WRITER; SCOPE OF THE PRESENT EDITION The _Laieikawai_ is a Hawaiian romance which recounts the wooing of a native chiefess of high rank and her final deification among the gods. The story was handed down orally from ancient times in the form of a _kaao_, a narrative rehearsed in prose interspersed with song, in which form old tales are still recited by Hawaiian story-tellers.[1] It was put into writing by a native Hawaiian, Haleole by name, who hoped thus to awaken in his countrymen an interest in genuine native story-telling based upon the folklore of their race and preserving its ancient customs--already fast disappearing since Cook's rediscovery of the group in 1778 opened the way to foreign influence--and by this means to inspire in them old ideals of racial glory. Haleole was born about the time of the death of Kaméhaméha I, a year or two before the arrival of the first American missionaries and the establishment of the Protestant mission in Hawaii. In 1834 he entered the mission school at Lahainaluna, Maui, where his interest in the ancient history of his people was stimulated and trained under the teaching of Lorrin Andrews, compiler of the Hawaiian dictionary, published in 1865, and Sheldon Dibble, under whose direction David Malo prepared his collection of "Hawaiian Antiquities," and whose History of the Sandwich Islands (1843) is an authentic source for the early history of the mission. Such early Hawaiian writers as Malo, Kamakau, and John Ii were among Haleole's fellow students. After leaving school he became first a teacher, then an editor. In the early sixties he brought out the _Laieikawai_, first as a serial in the Hawaiian newspaper, the _Kuokoa_, then, in 1863, in book form.[2] Later, in 1885, two part-Hawaiian editors, Bolster and Meheula, revised and reprinted the story, this time in pamphlet form, together with several other romances culled from Hawaiian journals, as the initial volumes of a series of Hawaiian reprints, a venture which ended in financial failure.[3] The romance of _Laieikawai_ therefore remains the sole piece of Hawaiian, imaginative writing to reach book form. Not only this, but it represents the single composition of a Polynesian mind working upon the material of an old legend and eager to create a genuine national literature. As such it claims a kind of classic interest. The language, although retaining many old words unfamiliar to the Hawaiian of to-day, and proverbs and expressions whose meaning is now doubtful, is that employed since the time of the reduction of the speech to writing in 1820, and is easily read at the present day. Andrews incorporated the vocabulary of this romance into his dictionary, and in only a few cases is his interpretation to be questioned. The songs, though highly figurative, present few difficulties. So far as the meaning is concerned, therefore, the translation is sufficiently accurate. But as regards style the problem is much more difficult. To convey not only the meaning but exactly the Hawaiian way of seeing things, in such form as to get the spirit of the original, is hardly possible to our language. The brevity of primitive speech must be sacrificed, thus accentuating the tedious repetition of detail--a trait sufficiently characteristic of Hawaiian story-telling. Then, too, common words for which we have but one form, in the original employ a variety of synonyms. "Say" and "see" are conspicuous examples. Other words identical in form convey to the Polynesian mind a variety of ideas according to the connection in which they are used--a play upon words impossible to translate in a foreign idiom. Again, certain relations that the Polynesian conceives with exactness, like those of direction and the relation of the person addressed to the group referred to, are foreign to our own idiom; others, like that of time, which we have more fully developed, the Polynesian recognizes but feebly. In face of these difficulties the translator has reluctantly foregone any effort to heighten the charm of the strange tale by using a fictitious idiom or by condensing and invigorating its deliberation. Haleole wrote his tale painstakingly, at times dramatically, but for the most part concerned for its historic interest. We gather from his own statement and from the breaks in the story that his material may have been collected from different sources. It seems to have been common to incorporate a _Laieikawai_ episode into the popular romances, and of these episodes Haleole may have availed himself. But we shall have something more to say of his sources later; with his particular style we are not concerned. The only reason for presenting the romance complete in all its original dullness and unmodified to foreign taste is with the definite object of showing as nearly as possible from the native angle the genuine Polynesian imagination at work upon its own material, reconstructing in this strange tale of the "Woman of the Twilight" its own objective world, the social interests which regulate its actions and desires, and by this means to portray the actual character of the Polynesian mind. This exact thing has not before been done for Hawaiian story and I do not recall any considerable romance in a Polynesian tongue so rendered.[4] Admirable collections of the folk tales of Hawaii have been gathered by Thrum, Remy, Daggett, Emerson, and Westervelt, to which should be added the manuscript tales collected by Fornander, translated by John Wise, and now edited by Thrum for the Bishop Museum, from which are drawn the examples accompanying this paper. But in these collections the lengthy recitals which may last several hours in the telling or run for a couple of years as serial in some Hawaiian newspaper are of necessity cut down to a summary narrative, sufficiently suggesting the flavor of the original, but not picturing fully the way in which the image is formed in the mind of the native story-teller. Foreigners and Hawaiians have expended much ingenuity in rendering the _mélé_ or chant with exactness,[5] but the much simpler if less important matter of putting into literal English a Hawaiian _kaao_ has never been attempted. To the text such ethnological notes have been added as are needed to make the context clear. These were collected in the field. Some were gathered directly from the people themselves; others from those who had lived long enough among them to understand their customs; others still from observation of their ways and of the localities mentioned in the story; others are derived from published texts. An index of characters, a brief description of the local background, and an abstract of the story itself prefaces the text; appended to it is a series of abstracts from the Fornander collection, of Hawaiian folk stories, all of which were collected by Judge Fornander in the native tongue and later rendered into English by a native translator. These abstracts illustrate the general character of Hawaiian story-telling, but specific references should be examined in the full text, now being edited by the Bishop Museum. The index to references includes all the Hawaiian material in available form essential to the study of romance, together with the more useful Polynesian material for comparative reference. It by no means comprises a bibliography of the entire subject. _Footnotes to Section I: Introduction_ [Footnote 1: Compare the Fijian story quoted by Thomson (p. 6).] [Footnote 2: Daggett calls the story "a supernatural folklore legend of the fourteenth century," and includes an excellent abstract of the romance, prepared by Dr. W.D. Alexander, in his collection of Hawaiian legends. Andrews says of it (Islander, 1875, p. 27): "We have seen that a Hawaiian Kaao or legend was composed ages ago, recited and kept in memory merely by repetition, until a short time since it was reduced to writing by a Hawaiian and printed, making a duodecimo volume of 220 pages, and that, too, with the poetical parts mostly left out. It is said that this legend took six hours in the recital." In prefacing his dictionary he says: "The Kaao of Laieikawai is almost the only specimen of that species of language which has been laid before the public. Many fine specimens have been printed in the Hawaiian periodicals, but are neither seen nor regarded by the foreign community."] [Footnote 3: The changes introduced by these editors have not been followed in this edition, except in a few unimportant omissions, but the popular song printed below appears first in its pages: "Aia Laie-i-ka-wai I ka uka wale la o Pali-uli; O ka nani, o ka nani, Helu ekahi o ia uka. "E nanea e walea ana paha, I ka leo nahenahe o na manu. "Kau mai Laie-i-ka-wai I ka eheu la o na manu; O ka nani, o ka nani, Helu ekahi o Pali-uli. "E nanea, etc. "Ua lohe paha i ka hone mai, O ka pu lau-i a Malio; Honehone, honehone, Helu ekahi o Hopoe. "E nanea, etc." Behold Laieikawai On the uplands of Paliuli; Beautiful, beautiful, The storied one of the uplands. REF.--Perhaps resting at peace, To the melodious voice of the birds. Laieikawai rests here On the wings of the birds; Beautiful, beautiful, The storied one of the uplands. She has heard perhaps the playing Of Malio's ti-leaf trumpet; Playfully, playfully, The storied one of Hopoe.] [Footnote 4: Dr. N. B. Emerson's rendering of the myth of _Pele and Hiiaka_ quotes only the poetical portions. Her Majesty Queen Liluokalani interested herself in providing a translation of the _Laieikawai,_ and the Hon. Sanford B. Dole secured a partial translation of the story; but neither of these copies has reached the publisher's hands.] [Footnote 5: The most important of these chants translated from the Hawaiian are the "Song of Creation," prepared by Liliuokalani; the "Song of Kualii," translated by both Lyons and Wise, and the prophetic song beginning _"Haui ka lani,"_ translated by Andrews and edited by Dole. To these should be added the important songs cited by Fornander, in full or in part, which relate the origin of the group, and perhaps the name song beginning "The fish ponds of Mana," quoted in Fornander's tale of _Lonoikamakahiki_, the canoe-chant in _Kana_, and the wind chants in _Pakaa_.] II. NATURE AND THE GODS AS REFLECTED IN THE STORY 1. POLYNESIAN ORIGIN OF HAWAIIAN ROMANCE Truly to interpret Hawaiian romance we must realize at the start its relation to the past of that people, to their origin and migrations, their social inheritance, and the kind of physical world to which their experience has been confined. Now, the real body of Hawaiian folklore belongs to no isolated group, but to the whole Polynesian area. From New Zealand through the Tongan, Ellice, Samoan, Society, Rarotongan, Marquesan, and Hawaiian groups, fringing upon the Fijian and the Micronesian, the same physical characteristics, the same language, customs, habits of life prevail; the same arts, the same form of worship, the same gods. And a common stock of tradition has passed from mouth to mouth over the same area. In New Zealand, as in Hawaii, men tell the story of Maui's fishing and the theft of fire.[1] A close comparative study of the tales from each group should reveal local characteristics, but for our purpose the Polynesian race is one, and its common stock of tradition, which at the dispersal and during the subsequent periods of migration was carried as common treasure-trove of the imagination as far as New Zealand on the south and Hawaii on the north, and from the western Fiji to the Marquesas on the east, repeats the same adventures among similar surroundings and colored by the same interests and desires. This means, in the first place, that the race must have developed for a long period of time in some common home of origin before the dispersal came, which sent family groups migrating along the roads of ocean after some fresh land for settlement;[2] in the second place, it reflects a period of long voyaging which brought about interchange of culture between far distant groups.[3] As the Crusades were the great exchange for west European folk stories, so the days of the voyagers were the Polynesian crusading days. The roadway through the seas was traveled by singing bards who carried their tribal songs as a race heritage into the new land of their wanderings. Their inns for hostelry were islets where the boats drew up along the beach and the weary oarsmen grouped about the ovens where their hosts prepared cooked food for feasting. Tales traveled thus from group to group with a readiness which only a common tongue, common interests, and a common delight could foster, coupled with the constant competition of family rivalries. Hawaiian tradition reflects these days of wandering.[4] A chief vows to wed no woman of his own group but only one fetched from "the land of good women." An ambitious priest seeks overseas a leader of divine ancestry. A chief insulted by his superior leads his followers into exile on some foreign shore. There is exchange of culture-gifts, intermarriage, tribute, war. Romance echoes with the canoe song and the invocation to the confines of Kahiki[5]--this in spite of the fact that intercourse seems to have been long closed between this northern group and its neighbors south and east. When Cook put in first at the island of Kauai, most western of the group, perhaps guided by Spanish charts, perhaps by Tahitian navigators who had preserved the tradition of ancient voyages,[6] for hundreds of years none but chance boats had driven upon its shores.[7] But the old tales remained, fast bedded at the foundation of Hawaiian imaginative literature. As now recited they take the form of chants or of long monotonous recitals like the _Laieikawai_, which take on the heightened form of poetry only in dialogue or on occasions when the emotional stress requires set song. Episodes are passed along, from one hero cycle to another, localities and names vary, and a fixed form in matter of detail relieves the stretch of invention; in fact, they show exactly the same phenomena of fixing and reshaping, that all story-telling whose object is to please exhibits in transference from mouth to mouth. Nevertheless, they are jealously retentive of incident. The story-teller, generally to be found among the old people of any locality, who can relate the legends as they were handed down to him from the past is known and respected in the community. We find the same story[8] told in New Zealand and in Hawaii scarcely changed, even in name. _Footnotes to Section II, 1: Polynesian Origin of Hawaiian Romance_ [Footnote 1: Bastian In Samoanische Schöpfungssage (p. 8) says: "Oceanien (im Zusammenbegriff von Polynesien und Mikronesien) repräsentirt (bei vorläufigem Ausschluss von Melanesien schon) einen Flächenraum, der alles Aehnliche auf dem Globus intellectualis weit übertrifft (von Hawaii bis Neu-Seeland, von der Oster-Insel bis zu den Marianen), und wenn es sich hier um Inseln handelt durch Meeresweiten getrennt, ist aus solch insularer Differenzirung gerade das Hilfsmittel comparativer Methode geboten für die Induction, um dasselbe, wie biologiseh sonst, hier auf psychologischem Arbeitsfelde zur Verwendung zu bringen." Compare: Krämer, p. 394; Finck, in Royal Scientific Society of Göttingen, 1909.] [Footnote 2: Lesson says of the Polynesian groups (I, 378): "On sait ... que tous ont, pour loi civile et religieuse, la même interdiction; que leurs institutions, leurs cérémonies sont semblables; que leurs croyances sont foncièrement identiques; qu'ils ont le même culte, les mêmes coutumes, les mêmes usages principaux; qu'ils ont enfin les mêmes moeurs et les mêmes traditions. Tout semble donc, a priori, annoncer que, quelque soit leur éloignement les uns des autres, les Polynesiens ont tiré d'une même source cette communauté d'idées et de langage; qu'ils ne sont, par consequent, que les tribus disperses d'une même nation, et que ces tribus ne se sont séparées qu'à une epoque où la langue et les idées politiques et religieuses de cette nation étaient déja fixées."] [Footnote 3: Compare: Stair, Old Samoa, p. 271; White, I, 176; Fison, pp. 1, 19; Smith, Hawaiki, p. 123; Lesson, II, 207, 209; Grey, pp. 108-234; Baessler, Neue Südsee-Bilder, p. 113; Thomson, p. 15.] [Footnote 4: Lesson (II, 190) enumerates eleven small islands, covering 40 degrees of latitude, scattered between Hawaii and the islands to the south, four showing traces of ancient habitation, which he believes to mark the old route from Hawaii to the islands to the southeast. According to Hawaiian tradition, which is by no means historically accurate, what is called the second migration period to Hawaii seems to have occurred between the eleventh and fourteenth centuries (dated from the arrival of the high priest Paao at Kohala, Hawaii, 18 generations before Kaméhaméha); to have come from the southeast; to have introduced a sacerdotal system whose priesthood, symbols, and temple structure persisted up to the time of the abandoning of the old faith in 1819. Compare Alexander's History, ch. III; Malo, pp. 25, 323; Lesson, II, 160-169.] [Footnote 5: _Kahiki_, in Hawaiian chants, is the term used to designate a "foreign land" in general and does not refer especially to the island of Tahiti in the Society Group.] [Footnote 6: Lesson, II, 152.] [Footnote 7: Ibid., 170.] [Footnote 8: Ibid., 178.] 2. POLYNESIAN COSMOGONY In theme the body of Polynesian folk tale is not unlike that of other primitive and story-loving people. It includes primitive philosophy--stories of cosmogony and of heroes who shaped the earth; primitive annals--migration stories, tales of culture heroes, of conquest and overrule. There is primitive romances--tales of competition, of vengeance, and of love; primitive wit--of drolls and tricksters; and primitive fear in tales of spirits and the power of ghosts. These divisions are not individual to Polynesia; they belong to universal delight; but the form each takes is shaped and determined by the background, either of real life or of life among the gods, familiar to the Polynesian mind. The conception of the heavens is purely objective, corresponding, in fact, to Anaxagoras's sketch of the universe. Earth is a plain, walled about far as the horizon, where, according to Hawaiian expression, rise the confines of Kahiki, _Kukulu o Kahiki_.[1] From this point the heavens are superimposed one upon the other like cones, in number varying in different groups from 8 to 14; below lies the underworld, sometimes divided into two or three worlds ruled by deified ancestors and inhabited by the spirits of the dead, or even by the gods[2]--the whole inclosed from chaos like an egg in a shell.[3] Ordinarily the gods seem to be conceived as inhabiting the heavens. As in other mythologies, heaven and the life the gods live there are merely a reproduction or copy of earth and its ways. In heaven the gods are ranged by rank; in the highest heaven dwells the chief god alone enjoying his supreme right of silence, _tabu moe_; others inhabit the lower heavens in gradually descending grade corresponding to the social ranks recognized among the Polynesian chiefs on earth. This physical world is again the prototype for the activities of the gods, its multitudinous manifestations representing the forms and forces employed by the myriad gods in making known their presence on earth. They are not these forms themselves, but have them at their disposal, to use as transformation bodies in their appearances on earth, or they may transfer them to their offspring on earth. This is due to the fact that the gods people earth, and from them man is descended. Chiefs rank, in fact, according to their claim to direct descent from the ancient gods.[4] Just how this came about is not altogether uniformly explained. In the Polynesian creation story[5] three things are significant--a monistic idea of a god existing before creation;[6] a progressive order of creation out of the limitless and chaotic from lower to higher forms, actuated by desire, which is represented by the duality of sex generation in a long line of ancestry through specific pairs of forms from the inanimate world--rocks and earth, plants of land and sea forms--to the animate--fish, insects, reptiles, and birds;[7] and the special analysis of the soul of man into "breath," which constitutes life; "feeling," located in the heart; "desire" in the intestines; and "thought" out of which springs doubt--the whole constituting _akamai_ or "knowledge." In Hawaii the creation story lays emphasis upon progressive sex generation of natural forms. Individual islands of a group are popularly described as rocks dropped down out of heaven or fished up from below sea as resting places for the gods;[8] or they are named as offspring of the divine ancestors of the group.[9] The idea seems to be that they are a part of the divine fabric, connected in kind with the original source of the race. _Footnotes to Section II, 2: Polynesian Cosmogony_ [Footnote 1: In the Polynesian picture of the universe the wall of heaven is conceived as shutting down about each group, so that boats traveling from one group to another "break through" this barrier wall. The _Kukulu o Kahiki_ in Hawaii seems to represent some such confine. Emerson says (in Malo, 30): "Kukulu was a wall or vertical erection such as was supposed to stand at the limits of the horizon and support the dome of heaven." Points of the compass were named accordingly _Kukulu hikina, Kukulu komohana, Kukulu hema, Kukulu akau_--east, west, south, north. The horizon was called _Kukulu-o-ka-honua_--"the compass-of-the-earth." The planes inclosed by such confines, on the other hand, are named _Kahiki_. The circle of the sky which bends upward from the horizon is called _Kahiki-ku_ or "vertical." That through which, the eye travels in reaching the horizon, _Kahiki-moe_, or "horizontal."] [Footnote 2: The Rarotongan world of spirits is an underworld. (See Gill's Myths and Songs.) The Hawaiians believed in a subterranean world of the dead divided into two regions, in the upper of which Wakea reigned; in the lower, Milu. Those who had not been sufficiently religious "must lie under the spreading _Kou_ trees of Milu's world, drink its waters and eat lizards and butterflies for food." Traditional points from which the soul took its leap into this underworld are to be found at the northern point of Hawaii, the west end of Maui, the south and the northwest points of Oahu, and, most famous of all, at the mouth of the great Waipio Valley on Hawaii. Compare Thomson's account from Fiji of the "pathway of the shade." p. 119.] [Footnote 3: White, I, chart; Gill, Myths and Songs, pp. 3, 4; Ellis, III, 168-170.] [Footnote 4: Gill says of the Hervey Islanders (p. 17 of notes): "The state is conceived of as a long house standing east and west, chiefs from the north and south sides of the island representing left and right; under chiefs the rafters; individuals the leaves of the thatch. These are the counterpart of the actual house (of the gods) in the spirit world." Compare Stair, p. 210.] [Footnote 5: Bastian, Samoanische Schöpfungs-Sage; Ellis, I, 321; White, vol. I; Turner, Samoa, 3; Gill, Myths and Songs, pp. 1-20; Moerenhout I, 419 et seq.; Liliuokalani, translation of the Hawaiian "Song of Creation"; Dixon, Oceanic Mythology.] [Footnote 6: Moerenhout translates (I, 419): "He was, _Taaroa_ (Kanaloa) was his name. He dwelt in immensity. Earth was not. _Taaroa_, called, but nothing responded to him, and, existing alone, he changed himself into the universe. The pivots (axes or orbits), this is _Taaroa_; the rocks, this is he. _Taaroa_ is the sand, so is he named. _Taaroa_ is the day. _Taaroa_ is the center. _Taaroa_ is the germ. _Taaroa_ is the base. _Taaroa_ is the invincible, who created the universe, the sacred universe, the shell for _Taaroa_, the life, life of the universe."] [Footnote 7: Moerenhout, I, 423: "_Taaroa_ slept with the woman called _Hina_ of the sea. Black clouds, white clouds, rain are born. _Taaroa_ slept with the woman of the uplands; the first-germ is born. Afterwards is born all that grows upon the earth. Afterwards is born the mist of the mountain. Afterwards is born the one called strong. Afterwards Is born the woman, the beautiful adorned one," etc.] [Footnote 8: Grey, pp. 38-45; Krämer, Samoa Inseln, pp. 395-400; Fison, pp. 139-146; Mariner, I, 228; White, II, 75; Gill, Myths and Songs, p. 48.] [Footnote 9: In Fornander's collection of origin chants the Hawaiian group is described as the offspring of the ancestors Wakea and Papa, or Hina.] 3. THE DEMIGOD AS HERO As natural forms multiplied, so multiplied the gods who wedded and gave them birth. Thus the half-gods were born, the _kupua_ or demigods as distinguished from _akua_ or spirits who are pure divinities.[1] The nature of the Polynesian _kupua_ is well described in the romance of _Laieikawai_, in Chapter XXIX, when the sisters of Aiwohikupua try to relieve their mistress's fright about marrying a divine one from the heavens. "He is no god--_Aole ia he Akua_--" they say, "he is a man like us, yet in his nature and appearance godlike. And he was the first-born of us; he was greatly beloved by our parents; to him was given superhuman power--_ka mana_--which we have not.... Only his taboo rank remains, Therefore fear not; when he comes you will see that he is only a man like us." It is such a character, born of godlike ancestors and inheriting through the favor of this god, or some member of his family group, godlike power or _mana_, generally in some particular form, who appears as the typical hero of early Hawaiian romance. His rank as a god is gained by competitive tests with a rival _kupua_/ or with the ancestor from whom he demands recognition and endowment. He has the power of transformation into the shape of some specific animal, object, or physical phenomenon which serves as the "sign" or "body" in which the god presents himself to man, and hence he controls all objects of this class. Not only the heavenly bodies, clouds, storms, and the appearances in the heavens, but perfumes and notes of birds serve to announce his divinity, and special kinds of birds, or fish, or reptiles, or of animals like the rat, pig, or dog, are recognized as peculiarly likely to be the habitation of a god. This is the form in which _aumakua_, or guardian spirits of a family, appear to watch over the safety of the household they protect.[2] Besides this power of transformation the _kupua_ has other supernatural gifts, as the power of flight,[3] of contraction and expansion at will, of seeing what is going on at a distance, and of bringing the dead to life. As a man on earth he is often miraculously born or miraculously preserved at birth, which event is heralded by portents in the heavens. He is often brought up by some supernatural guardian, grows with marvelous rapidity, has an enormous appetite--a proof of godlike strain, because only the chief in Polynesian economic life has the resources freely to indulge his animal appetite--and phenomenal beauty or prodigious skill, strength, or subtlety in meeting every competitor. His adventures follow the general type of mythical hero tales. Often he journeys to the heavens to seek some gift of his ancestors, the ingenious fancy keeping always before it an objective picture of this heavenly superstructure--bearing him thither upon a cloud or bird, on the path of a cobweb, a trailing vine, or a rainbow, or swung thither on the tip of a bamboo stalk. Arrived in the region of air, by means of tokens or by name chants, he proves his ancestry and often substantiates his claim in tests of power, ability thus sharing with blood the determining of family values. If his deeds are among men, they are of a marvelous nature. Often his godlike nature is displayed by apparent sloth and indolence on his part, his followers performing miraculous feats while he remains inactive; hence he is reproached for idleness by the unwitting. Sometimes he acts as a transformer, changing the form of mountains and valleys with a step or stroke; sometimes as a culture hero bringing gifts to mankind and teaching them the arts learned from the gods, or supplying food by making great hauls of fish by means of a miraculous hook, or planting rich crops; sometimes he is an avenger, pitting his strength against a rival demigod who has done injury to a relative or patron of his own, or even by tricks outwitting the mischievous _akua_. Finally, he remains on earth only when, by transgressing some _kupua_ custom or in contest with a superior _kupua_, he is turned into stone, many rock formations about the islands being thus explained and consequently worshiped as dwelling places of gods. Otherwise he is deified in the heavens, or goes to dwell in the underworld with the gods, from whence he may still direct and inspire his descendants on earth if they worship him, or even at times appear to them again on earth in some objective form.[4] _Footnotes to Section II, 3: The Demigod as Hero_ [Footnote 1: Mariner, II, 103; Turner, Nineteen Tears in Polynesia, pp. 238-242; Ibid., Samoa, pp. 23-77; Ellis, I, 334; Gracia, pp. 41-44; Krämer (Samoa Inseln, p. 22) and Stair (p. 211) distinguished _akua_ as the original gods, _aiku_ as their descendants, the demonic beings who appear in animal forms and act as helpers to man; and _kupua_ as deified human beings.] [Footnote 2: When a Polynesian invokes a god he prays to the spirit of some dead ancestor who acts as his supernatural helper. A spirit is much stronger than a human being--hence the custom of covering the grave with a great heap of stone or modern masonry to keep down the ghost. Its strength may be increased through prayer and sacrifice, called "feeding" the god. See Fornander's stories of _Pumaia_, and _Nihoalaki_. In Fison's story of Mantandua the mother has died of exhaustion in rescuing her child. As he grows up her spirit acts as his supernatural helper, and appears to him in dreams to direct his course. He accordingly achieves prodigies through her aid. In _Kuapakaa_ the boy manages the winds through his grandmother's bones, which he keeps in a calabash. In _Pamano_, the supernatural helper appears in bird shape. The Fornander stories of _Kamapua'a_, the pig god, and of _Pikoiakaalala_, who belongs to the rat family, illustrate the _kupua_ in animal shape. Malo, pp. 113-115. Compare Mariner, II, 87, 100; Ellis, I, 281.] [Footnote 3: Bird-bodied gods of low grade in the theogony of the heavens act as messengers for the higher gods. In Stair (p. 214) Tuli, the plover, is the bird messenger of Tagaloa. The commonest messenger birds named in Hawaiian stories are the plover, wandering tattler, and turnstone, all migratory from about April to August, and hence naturally fastened upon by the imagination as suitable messengers to lands beyond common ken. Gill (Myths and Songs, p. 35) says that formerly the gods spoke through small land birds, as in the story of Laieikawai's visit to Kauakahialii.] [Footnote 4: With the stories quoted from Fornander may be compared such wonder tales as are to be found in Krämer, pp. 108, 116, 121, 413-419; Fison, pp. 32, 49, 99; Grey, p. 59; Turner, Samoa, p. 209; White I, 82, etc.] 4. THE EARTHLY PARADISE; DIVINITY IN MAN AND NATURE For according to the old myth, Sky and Earth were nearer of access in the days when the first gods brought forth their children--the winds, the root plants, trees, and the inhabitants of the sea, but the younger gods rent them apart to give room to walk upright;[1] so gods and men walked together in the early myths, but in the later traditions, called historical, the heavens do actually get pushed farther away from man and the gods retreat thither. The fabulous demigods depart one by one from Hawaii; first the great gods--Kane, Ku, Lono, and Kanaloa; then the demigods, save Pele of the volcano. The supernatural race of the dragons and other beast gods who came from "the shining heavens" to people Hawaii, the gods and goddesses who governed the appearances in the heavens, and the myriad race of divine helpers who dwelt in the tiniest forms of the forest and did in a night the task of months of labor, all those god men who shaped the islands and named their peaks and valleys, rocks, and crevices as they trampled hollows with a spring and thrust their spears through mountains, were superseded by a humaner race of heroes who ruled the islands by subtlety and skill, and instead of climbing the heavens after the fiery drink of the gods or searching the underworld for ancestral hearth fires, voyaged to other groups of islands for courtship or barter. Then even the long voyages ceased and chiefs made adventure out of canoe trips about their own group, never save by night out of sight of land. They set about the care of their property from rival chiefs. Thus constantly in jeopardy from each other, sharpening, too, their observation of what lay directly about them and of the rational way to get on in life, they accepted the limits of a man's power and prayed to the gods, who were their great ancestors, for gifts beyond their reach.[2] And during this transfer of attention from heaven to earth the objective picture of a paradise in the heavens or of an underworld inhabited by spirits of the dead got mixed up with that of a land of origin on earth, an earthly paradise called Hawaiki or Bulotu or "the lost land of _Kane_"--a land about which clustered those same wistful longings which men of other races have pictured in their visions of an earthly paradise--the "talking tree of knowledge," the well of life, and plenty without labor.[3] "Thus they dwelt at Paliuli," says Haleole of the sisters' life with Laieikawai, "and while they dwelt there never did they weary of life. Never did they even see the person who prepared their food, nor the food itself save when, at mealtimes, the birds brought them food and cleared away the remnants when they had finished. So Paliuli became to them a land beloved." Gods and men are, in fact, to the Polynesian mind, one family under different forms, the gods having superior control over certain phenomena, a control which they may impart to their offspring on earth. As he surveys the world about him the Polynesian supposes the signs of the gods who rule the heavens to appear on earth, which formerly they visited, traveling thither as cloud or bird or storm or perfume to effect some marriage alliance or govern mankind. In these forms, or transformed themselves into men, they dwelt on earth and shaped the social customs of mankind. Hence we have in such a romance as the _Laieikawai_ a realistic picture, first, of the activities of the gods in the heavens and on earth, second, of the social ideas and activities of the people among whom the tale is told. The supernatural blends into the natural in exactly the same way as to the Polynesian mind gods relate themselves to men, facts about one being regarded as, even though removed to the heavens, quite as objective as those which belong to the other, and being employed to explain social customs and physical appearances in actual experience. In the light of such story-telling even the Polynesian creation myth may become a literal genealogy, and the dividing line between folklore and traditional history, a mere shift of attention and no actual change in the conception itself of the nature of the material universe and the relations between gods and men. _Footnotes to Section II, 4: The Earthly Paradise_ [Footnote 1: Grey, pp. 1-15; White, I, 46; Baessler, Neue Südsee-Bilder, pp. 244, 245; Gill, Myths and Songs, pp. 58-60.] [Footnote 2: Compare Krämer's Samoan story (in Samoa Inseln, p. 413) of the quest after the pearl fishhooks kept by Night and Day in the twofold heavens with the Hawaiian stories collected by Fornander of _Aiai_ and _Nihoalaki_. Krämer's story begins: "Aloalo went to his father To appease Sina's longing; He sent him to the twofold heavens, To his grandparents, Night and Day, To the house whence drops fall spear-shaped, To hear their counsel and return. Aloalo entered the house, Took not the unlucky fishhook, Brought away that of good luck," etc.] [Footnote 3: Krämer, Samoa Inseln, pp. 44, 115; Fison, pp. 16, 139-161, 163; Lesson, II, 272, 483 (see index); Mariner, II, 100, 102, 115, et seq.; Moerenhout, I, 432; Gracia, p. 40; Turner, Nineteen Years in Polynesia, p. 237; Gill, Myths and Songs, pp. 152-172. In Fison's story (p. 139) the gods dwell in Bulotu, "where the sky meets the waters in the climbing path of the sun." The story goes: "In the beginning there was no land save that on which the gods lived; no dry land was there for men to dwell upon; all was sea; the sky covered it above and bounded it on every side. There was neither day nor night, but a mild light shone continually through the sky upon the water, like the shining of the moon when its face is hidden by a white cloud."] 5. THE STORY: ITS MYTHICAL CHARACTER These mythical tales of the gods are reflected in Haleole's romance of _Laieikawai_. Localized upon Hawaii, it is nevertheless familiar with regions of the heavens. Paliuli, the home of Laieikawai, and Pihanakalani, home of the flute-playing high chief of Kauai, are evidently earthly paradises.[1] Ask a native where either of these places is to be found and he will say, smiling, "In the heavens." The long lists of local place names express the Polynesian interest in local journeyings. The legend of _Waiopuka_ is a modern or at least adapted legend. But the route which the little sister follows to the heavens corresponds with Polynesian cosmogonic conceptions, and is true to ancient stories of the home of the gods. The action of the story, too, is clearly concerned with a family of demigods. This is more evident if we compare a parallel story translated by Westervelt in "Gods and Ghosts," page 116, which, however confused and fragmentary, is clearly made up of some of the same material as Haleole's version.[2] The main situation in this story furnishes a close parallel to the _Laieikawai_ A beautiful girl of high rank is taken from her parents and brought up apart in an earthly paradise by a supernatural guardian, Waka, where she is waited upon by birds. A great lizard acts as her protector. She is wedded to a high taboo chief who is fetched thither from the gods, and who later is seduced from his fidelity by the beauty of another woman. This woman of the mountain, Poliahu, though identical in name and nature, plays a minor part in Haleole's story. In other details the stories show discrepancies.[3] It is pretty clear that Haleole's version has suppressed, out of deference to foreign-taught proprieties, the original relationship of brother and sister retained in the Westervelt story. This may be inferred from the fact that other unpublished Hawaiian romances of the same type preserve this relation, and that, according to Hawaiian genealogists, the highest divine rank is ascribed to such a union. Restoring this connection, the story describes the doings of a single family, gods or of godlike descent.[4] In the Westervelt story, on the whole, the action is treated mythically to explain how things came to be as they are--how the gods peopled the islands, how the _hula_ dances and the lore of the clouds were taught in Hawaii. The reason for the localization is apparent. The deep forests of Puna, long dedicated to the gods, with their singing birds, their forest trees whose leaves dance in the wind, their sweet-scented _maile_ vine, with those fine mists which still perpetually shroud the landscape and give the name Haleohu, House-of-mist, to the district, and above all the rainbows so constantly arching over the land, make an appropriate setting for the activities of some family of demigods. Strange and fairylike as much of the incident appears, allegorical as it seems, upon the face of it, the Polynesian mind observes objectively the activities of nature and of man as if they proceeded from the same sort of consciousness. [Illustration: IN THE FORESTS OF PUNA (HENSHAW)] So, in Haleole's more naturalistic tale the mythical rendering is inwrought into the style of the narrative. Storm weds Perfume. Their children are the Sun-at-high-noon; a second son, possibly Lightning; twin daughters called after two varieties of the forest vine, _ieie_, perhaps symbols of Rainbow and Twilight; and five sweet-smelling daughters--the four varieties of _maile_ vine and the scented _hala_ blossom. The first-born son is of such divine character that he dwells highest in the heavens. Noonday, like a bird, bears visitors to his gate, and guards of the shade--Moving-cloud and Great-bright-moon--close it to shut out his brightness. The three regions below him are guarded by maternal uncles and by his father, who never comes near the taboo house, which only his mother shares with him. His signs are those of the rainstorm--thunder, lightning, torrents of "red rain," high seas, and long-continued mists--these he inherits from his father. An ancestress rears Rainbow in the forests of Puna. Birds bear her upon their wings and serve her with abundance of food prepared without labor, and of their golden feathers her royal house is built; sweet-scented vines and blossoms surround her; mists shroud her when she goes abroad. Earthquake guards her dwelling, saves Rainbow from Lightning, who seeks to destroy her, and bears a messenger to fetch the Sun-at-high-noon as bridegroom for the beautiful Rainbow. The Sun god comes to earth and bears Rainbow away with him to the heavens, but later he loves her sister Twilight, follows her to earth, and is doomed to sink into Night. _Footnotes to Section II, 5: The Story: Its Mythical Character_ [Footnote 1: As such Paliuli occurs in other Hawaiian folk tales: 1. At Paliuli grew the mythical trees Makali'i, male and female, which have the power to draw fish. The female was cut down and taken to Kailua, Oahu, hence the chant: "Kupu ka laau ona a Makali'i, O Makali'i, laau Kaulana mai ka pomai." 2. In the Fornander notes from Kepelino and Kamakau, Paliuli is the land given to the first man and is called "hidden land of Kane" and "great land of the gods." 3. In Fornander's story of _Kepakailiula_, the gods assign Paliuli to be the hero's home. To reach it the party start at second cockcrow from Keaau (as in the _Laieikawai_) and arrive in the morning. It is "a good land, flat, fertile, filled with many things desired by man." The native apples are as large as breadfruit. They see a pond "lying within the land stocked with all kinds of fish of the sea except the whale and the shark." Here "the sugar cane grew until it lay flat, the hogs until the tusks were long, the chickens until the spurs were long and sharp, and the dogs until their backs were flattened out." They leave Paliuli to travel over Hawaii, and "no man has ever seen it since." 4. In Fornander's story of _Kana_, Uli, the grandmother of Kana, goes up to Paliuli to dig up the double canoe Kaumaielieli in which Kana is to sail to recover his mother. The chant in which this canoe is described is used to-day by practicers of sorcery to exorcise an enemy.] [Footnote 2: The gods Kane and Kanaloa, who live in the mountains of Oahu, back of Honolulu, prepare a home for the first-born son of Ku and Hina, whom they send Rainbow to fetch from Nuumealani. The messenger, first gaining the consent of the lizard guardian at Kuaihelani, brings back Child-adopted-by-the-gods to the gods on Oahu. Again Hina bears a child, a daughter. For this girl also the gods send two sister messengers, who bring Paliuli to Waka, where she cares for the birds in the forests of Puna. Here a beautiful home is prepared for the girl and a garden planted with two magical food-producing trees, Makalei, brought from Nuumealani to provide fish and prepared food in abundance. These two children, brother and sister, are the most beautiful pair on earth, and the gods arrange their marriage. Kane precedes the boy, dressed in his lightning body, and the tree people come to dance and sing before Paliuli. Some say that the goddess Laka, patroness of the _hula_ dance, accompanied them. For a time all goes well, then the boy is beguiled by Poliahu (Cold-bosom) on the mountain. Paliuli, aware of her lover's infidelity, sends Waka to bring him back, but Cold-bosom prevents his approach, by spreading the mountain with snow. Paliuli wanders away to Oahu, then to Kauai, learning dances on the way which she teaches to the trees in the forest on her return. Meanwhile another child is born to Ku and Hina. The lizard guardian draws this lovely girl from the head of Hina, calls her Keaomelemele, Golden-cloud, and sets her to rule the clouds in the Shining-heavens. Among these clouds is Kaonohiokala, the Eyeball-of-the-sun, who knows what is going on at a distance. From the lizard guardian Golden-cloud learns of her sister Paliuli's distress, and she comes to earth to effect a reconciliation. There she learns all the dances that the gods can teach. Now, Ku and Hina, having learned the lore of the clouds, choose other mates and each, bears a child, one a boy called Kaumailiula, Twilight-resting-in-the-sky, the other a girl named Kaulanaikipokii. The boy is brought to Oahu, riding in a red canoe befitting a chief, to be Goldencloud's husband. His sister follows with her maidens riding in shells, which they pick up and put in their pockets when they come to land. Ku, Hina, and the lizard family also migrate to Oahu to join the gods, Kane and Kanaloa, for the marriage festival. Thus these early gods came to Oahu.] [Footnote 3: Although the earthly paradise has the same location in both stories, the name Paliuli in Westervelt's version belongs to the heroine herself. The name of the younger sister, too, who acts no part in this story, appears again in the tale collected by Fornander of _Kaulanapokii_, where, like the wise little sister of Haleole's story, she is the leader and spokesman of her four Maile sisters, and carries her part as avenger by much more magical means than in Haleole's naturalistic conception. The character who bears the name of Haleole's sungod, Kaonohiokala, plays only an incidental part in Westervelt's story.] [Footnote 4: First generation: Waka, Kihanuilulumoku, Lanalananuiaimakua. Second generation: Moanalihaikawaokele, Laukieleula; Mokukeleikahiki and Kaeloikamalama (brothers to Laukieleula). Third generation: Kaonohiokala m. Laieikawai, Laielohelohe (m. Kekalukaluokewaii), Aiwohikupua, Mailehaiwale, Mailekaluhea, Mailelaulii, Mailepakaha, Kahalaomapuana.] 6. THE STORY AS A REFLECTION OF ARISTOCRATIC SOCIAL LIFE Such is the bare outline of the myth, but notice how, in humanizing the gods, the action presents a lively picture of the ordinary course of Polynesian life. Such episodes as the concealment of the child to preserve its life, the boxing and surfing contests, all the business of love-making--its jealousies and subterfuges, the sisters to act as go-betweens, the bet at checkers and the _Kilu_ games at night, the marriage cortege and the public festival; love for music, too, especially the wonder and curiosity over a new instrument, and the love of sweet odors; again, the picture of the social group--the daughter of a high chief, mistress of a group of young virgins, in a house apart which is forbidden to men, and attended by an old woman and a humpbacked servant; the chief's establishment with its soothsayers, paddlers, soldiers, executioner, chief counselor, and the group of under chiefs fed at his table; the ceremonial wailing at his reception, the _awa_ drink passed about at the feast, the taboo signs, feather cloak, and wedding paraphernalia, the power over life and death, and the choice among virgins. Then, on the other hand, the wonder and delight of the common people, their curious spying into the chief's affairs, the treacherous paddlers, the different orders of landowners; in the temple, the human sacrifices, prayers, visions; the prophet's search for a patron, his wrestling with the god, his affection for his chief, his desire to be remembered to posterity by the saying "the daughters of Hulumaniani"--all these incidents reflect the course of everyday life in aristocratic Polynesian society and hence belong to the common stock of Hawaiian romance. Such being the material of Polynesian romance--a world in which gods and men play their part; a world which includes the heavens yet reflects naturalistically the beliefs and customs of everyday life, let us next consider how the style of the story-teller has been shaped by his manner of observing nature and by the social requirements which determine his art--by the world of nature and the world of man. And in the first place let us see under what social conditions Polynesia has gained for itself so high a place, on the whole, among primitive story-telling people for the richness, variety, and beauty of its conceptions.[1] Polynesian romance reflects its own social world--a world based upon the fundamental conception of social rank. The family tie and the inherited rights and titles derived from it determine a man's place in the community. The families of chiefs claim these rights and titles from the gods who are their ancestors.[2] They consist not only in land and property rights but in certain privileges in administering the affairs of a group, and in certain acknowledged forms of etiquette equivalent to the worship paid to a god. These rights are administered through a system of taboo.[3] A taboo depends for its force upon the belief that it is divinely ordained and that to break it means to bring down the anger of the gods upon the offender. In the case, therefore, of a violation of taboo, the community forestalls the god's wrath, which might otherwise extend to the whole number, by visiting the punishment directly upon the guilty offender, his family or tribe. But it is always understood that back of the community disapproval is the unappeased challenge of the gods. In the case of the Polynesian taboo, the god himself is represented in the person of the chief, whose divine right none dare challenge and who may enforce obedience within his taboo right, under the penalty of death. The limits of this right are prescribed by grade. Before some chiefs the bystander must prostrate himself, others are too sacred to be touched. So, when a chief dedicates a part of his body to the deity, for an inferior it is taboo; any act of sacrilege will throw the chief into a fury of passion. In the same way tabooed food or property of any kind is held sacred and can not be touched by the inferior. To break a taboo is to challenge a contest of strength--that is, to declare war. As the basis of the taboo right lay in descent from the gods, lineage was of first importance in the social world. Not that rank was independent of ability--a chief must exhibit capacity who would claim possession of the divine inheritance;[4] he must keep up rigorously the fitting etiquette or be degraded in rank. Yet even a successful warrior, to insure his family title, sought a wife from a superior rank. For this reason women held a comparatively important position in the social framework, and this place is reflected in the folk tales.[5] Many Polynesian romances are, like the _Laieikawai_, centered about the heroine of the tale. The mother, when she is of higher rank, or the maternal relatives, often protect the child. The virginity of a girl of high rank is guarded, as in the _Laieikawai_, in order to insure a suitable union.[6] Rank, also, is authority for inbreeding, the highest possible honor being paid to the child of a brother and sister of the highest chief class. Only a degree lower is the offspring of two generations, father and daughter, mother and son, uncle and niece, aunt and nephew being highly honorable alliances.[7] Two things result as a consequence of the taboo right in the hands of a chief. In the first place, the effort is constantly to keep before his following the exclusive position of the chief and to emphasize in every possible way his divine character as descended from a god. Such is the meaning of the insignia of rank--in Hawaii, the taboo staff which warns men of his neighborhood, the royal feather cloak, the high seat apart in the double canoe, the head of the feast, the special apparel of his followers, the size of his house and of his war canoe, the superior workmanship and decoration of all his equipment, since none but the chief can command the labor for their execution. In the second place, this very effort to aggrandize him above his fellows puts every material advantage in the hands of the chief. The taboo means that he can command, at the community expense, the best of the food supply, the most splendid ornaments, equipment, and clothing. He is further able, again at the community expense, to keep dependent upon himself, because fed at his table, a large following, all held in duty bound to carry out his will. Even the land was, in Hawaii and other Polynesian communities, under the control of the chief, to be redistributed whenever a new chief came into power. The taboo system thus became the means for economic distribution, for the control of the relation between the sexes, and for the preservation of the dignity of the chief class. As such it constituted as powerful an instrument for the control of the labor and wealth of a community and the consequent enjoyment of personal ease and luxury as was ever put into the hands of an organized upper class. It profoundly influenced class distinctions, encouraged exclusiveness and the separation of the upper ranks of society from the lower.[8] To act as intermediary with his powerful line of ancestors and perform all the ceremonials befitting the rank to which he has attained, the chief employs a priesthood, whose orders and offices are also graded according to the rank into which the priest is born and the patronage he is able to secure for himself.[9] Even though the priest may be, when inspired by his god, for the time being treated like a god and given divine honors, as soon as the possession leaves him he returns to his old rank in the community.[10] Since chief and priest base their pretensions upon the same divine authority, each supports the other, often the one office including the other;[11] the sacerdotal influence is, therefore, while it acts as a check upon the chief, on the whole aristocratic. The priest represented in Polynesian society what we may call the professional class in our own. Besides conducting religious ceremonials, he consulted the gods on matters of administration and state policy, read the omens, understood medicine, guarded the genealogies and the ancient lore, often acted as panegyrist and debater for the chief. All these powers were his in so far as he was directly inspired by the god who spoke through him as medium to the people.[12] _Footnotes to Section II, 6: The story as a reflection of aristocratic social life_ [Footnote 1: J.A. Macculloch (in Childhood of Fiction, p. 2) says, comparing the literary ability of primitive people: "Those who possess the most elaborate and imaginative tales are the Red Indians and Polynesians."] [Footnote 2: Moerenhout, II, 4, 265.] [Footnote 3: Gracia (p. 47) says that the taboo consists in the interdict from touching some food or object which, has been dedicated to a god. The chief by his divine descent represents the god. Compare Ellis, IV, 385; Mariner, II, 82, 173; Turner, Samoa, pp. 112, 185; Fison, pp. 1-3; Malo, p. 83; Dibble, p. 12; Moerenhout, I, 528-533. Fornander says of conditions in Hawaii: "The chiefs in the genealogy from Kane were called _Ka Hoalii_ or 'anointed' (_poni ia_) with the water of Kane (_wai-niu-a-Kane_) and they became 'divine tabu chiefs' (_na lii kapu-akua_). Their genealogy is called _Iku-pau_, because it alone leads up to the beginning of all genealogies. They had two taboo rights, the ordinary taboo of the chiefs (_Kapu-alii_) and the taboo of the gods (_Kapu-akua_). The genealogy of the lower ranks of chiefs (_he lii noa_), on the other hand, was called _Iku-nuu_. Their power was temporal and they accordingly were entitled only to the ordinary taboo of chiefs (_Kapu-alii_)."] [Footnote 4: Compare Krämer, Samoa Inseln, p. 31; Stair, p. 75; Turner, Samoa, p. 173; White, II, 62, and the Fornander stories of _Aukele_ and of _Kila_, where capacity, not precedence of birth, determines the hero's rank.] [Footnote 5: In certain groups inheritance descends on the mother's side only. See Krämer, op. cit., pp. 15, 39; Mariner, II, 89, 98. Compare Mariner, II, 210-212; Stair, p. 222. In Fison (p. 65) the story of _Longapoa_, shows what a husband of lower rank may endure from a termagant wife of high rank.] [Footnote 6: Krämer (p. 32 et seq.) tells us that in Samoa the daughter of a high chief is brought up with extreme care that she may be given virgin to her husband. She is called _taupo_, "dove," and, when she comes of age, passes her time with the other girls of her own age in the _fale aualuma_ or "house of the virgins," of whom she assumes the leadership. Into this house, where the girls also sleep at night, no youth dare enter. Compare Fornander's stories of _Kapuaokaoheloai_ and _Hinaaikamalama_. See also Stair, p. 110; Mariner, II, 142, 212; Fison, p. 33. According to Gracia (p. 62) candidates in the Marquesas for the priesthood are strictly bound to a taboo of chastity.] [Footnote 7: Rivers, I, 374; Malo, p. 80. Gracia (p. 41) says that the Marquesan genealogy consists in a long line of gods and goddesses married and representing a genealogy of chiefs. To the thirtieth generation they are brothers and sisters. After this point the relation is no longer observed.] [Footnote 8: Keaulumoku's description of a Hawaiian chief (Islander, 1875) gives a good idea of the distinction felt between the classes: "A well-supplied dish is the wooden dish, The high-raftered sleeping-house with shelves; The long eating-house for women. The rushes are spread down, upon them is spread the mat, They lie on their backs, with heads raised in dignity, The fly brushers wave to and fro at the door; the door is shut, the black _tapa_ is drawn up. "Haste, hide a little in refreshing sleep, dismiss fatigue. They sleep by day in the silence where noise is forbidden. If they sleep two and two, double is their sleep; Enjoyable is the fare of the large-handed man. In parrying the spear the chief is vigorous; the breaking of points is sweet. Delightful is the season of fish, the season of food; when one is filled with fish, when one is filled with food. Thou art satisfied with food, O thou common man, To be satisfied with land is for the chief." Compare the account of the Fiji chief in Williams and Calvert, I, 33-42.] [Footnote 9: Stair, p. 220; Gracia, p. 59; Alexander, History, chap. IV; Malo, p. 210. The name used for the priesthood of Hawaii, _kahuna_, is the same as that applied in the Marquesas, according to Gracia (p. 60), to the order of chanters.] [Footnote 10: Gracia, p. 46; Mariner, II, 87, 101, 125; Gill, Myths and Songs, pp. 20, 21; Moerenhout, I, 474-482.] [Footnote 11: Malo, p. 69.] [Footnote 12: Ellis (III, 36) describes the art of medicine in Polynesia, and Erdland (p. 77) says that on the Marshall Islands knowledge of the stars and weather signs is handed down to a favorite child and can raise rank by attaching a man to the service of a chief. Compare Mariner, II, 90; Moerenhout, I, 409; Williams and Calvert, I, 111.] III. THE ART OF COMPOSITION 1. ARISTOCRATIC NATURE OF POLYNESIAN ART The arts of song and oratory, though practiced by all classes,[1] were considered worthy to be perfected among the chiefs themselves and those who sought their patronage. Of a chief the Polynesian says, "He speaks well."[2] Hawaiian stories tell of heroes famous in the _hoopapa_, or art of debating; in the _hula_, or art of dance and song; of chiefs who learned the lore of the heavens and the earth from some supernatural master in order to employ their skill competitively. The _oihana haku-mele_, or "business of song making," was hence an aristocratic art. The able composer, man or woman, even if of low rank, was sure of patronage as the _haku mele_, "sorter of songs," for some chief; and his name was attached to the song he composed. A single poet working alone might produce the panegyric; but for the longer and more important songs of occasion a group got together, the theme was proposed and either submitted to a single composer or required line by line from each member of the group. In this way each line as it was composed was offered for criticism lest any ominous allusion creep in to mar the whole by bringing disaster upon the person celebrated, and as it was perfected it was committed to memory by the entire group, thus insuring it against loss. Protective criticism, therefore, and exact transmission were secured by group composition.[3] Exactness of reproduction was in fact regarded as a proof of divine inspiration. When the chief's sons were trained to recite the genealogical chants, those who were incapable were believed to lack a share in the divine inheritance; they were literally "less gifted" than their brothers.[4] This distinction accorded to the arts of song and eloquence is due to their actual social value. The _mele_, or formal poetic chants which record the deeds of heroic ancestors, are of aristocratic origin and belong to the social assets of the family to which they pertain. The claim of an heir to rank depends upon his power to reproduce, letter perfect, his family chants and his "name song," composed to celebrate his birth, and hence exact transmission is a matter of extreme importance. Facility in debate is not only a competitive art, with high stakes attached, but is employed in time of war to shame an enemy,[5] quickness of retort being believed, like quickness of hand, to be a God-given power. Chants in memory of the dead are demanded of each relative at the burial ceremony.[6] Song may be used to disgrace an enemy, to avenge an insult, to predict defeat at arms. It may also be turned to more pleasing purposes--to win back an estranged patron or lover;[7] in the art of love, indeed, song is invaluable to a chief. Ability in learning and language is, therefore, a highly prized chiefly art, respected for its social value and employed to aggrandize rank. How this aristocratic patronage has affected the language of composition will be presently clear. _Footnotes to Section III, 1: Aristocratic Nature of Polynesian Art_ [Footnote 1: Jarves says: "Songs and chants were common among all classes, and recited by strolling musicians as panegyrics on occasions of joy, grief, or worship. Through them the knowledge of events in the lives of prominent persons or the annals of the nation were perpetuated. The chief art lay in the formation of short metrical sentences without much regard to the rhythmical terminations. Monosyllables, dissyllables, and trisyllables had each their distinct time. The natives repeat their lessons, orders received, or scraps of ancient song, or extemporize in this monotonous singsong tone for hours together, and in perfect accord." Compare Ellis's Tour, p. 155.] [Footnote 2: Moerenhout, I, 411.] [Footnote 3: Andrews, Islander, 1875, p. 35; Emerson, Unwritten Literature, pp. 27, 38.] [Footnote 4: In Fornander's story of _Lonoikamakahiki_, the chief memorizes in a single night a new chant just imported from Kauai so accurately as to establish his property right to the song.] [Footnote 5: Compare with Ellis, I, 286, and Williams and Calvert, I, 46, 50, the notes on the boxing contest in the text of _Laieikawai_.] [Footnote 6: Gill, Myths and Songs, pp. 268 et seq.] [Footnote 7: See Fornander's stories of _Lonoikamakahiki, Halemano_, and _Kuapakaa_.] 2. NOMENCLATURE: ITS EMOTIONAL VALUE The Hawaiian (or Polynesian) composer who would become a successful competitor in the fields of poetry, oratory, or disputation must store up in his memory the rather long series of names for persons, places, objects, or phases of nature which constitute the learning of the aspirant for mastery in the art of expression. He is taught, says one tale, "about everything in the earth and in the heavens"--- that is, their names, their distinguishing characterstics. The classes of objects thus differentiated naturally are determined by the emotional interest attached to them, and this depends upon their social or economic value to the group. The social value of pedigree and property have encouraged genealogical and geographical enumeration. A long recitation of the genealogies of chiefs provides immense emotional satisfaction and seems in no way to overtax the reciter's memory. Missionaries tell us that "the Hawaiians will commit to memory the genealogical tables given in the Bible, and delight to repeat them as some of the choicest passages in Scripture." Examples of such genealogies are common; it is, in fact, the part of the reciter to preserve the pedigree of his chief in a formal genealogical chant. Such a series is illustrated in the genealogy embedded in the famous song to aggrandize the family of the famous chief Kualii, which carries back the chiefly line of Hawaii through 26 generations to Wakea and Papa, ancestors of the race. "Hulihonua the man, Keakahulilani the woman, Laka the man, Kepapaialeka the woman," runs the song, the slight variations evidently fitting the sound to the movement of the recitative. In the eleventh section of the "Song of Creation" the poet says: She that lived up in the heavens and Piolani, She that was full of enjoyments and lived in the heavens, Lived up there with Kii and became his wife, Brought increase to the world; and he proceeds to the enumeration of her "increase": Kamahaina was born a man, Kamamule his brother, Kamaainau was born next, Kamakulua was born, the youngest a woman. Following this family group come a long series, more than 650 pairs of so-called husbands and wives. After the first 400 or so, the enumeration proceeds by variations upon a single name. We have first some 50 _Kupo_ (dark nights)--"of wandering," "of wrestling," "of littleness," etc.; 60 or more _Polo_; 50 _Liili_; at least 60 _Alii_ (chiefs); followed by _Mua_ and _Loi_ in about the same proportion. At the end of this series we read that-- Storm was born, Tide was born, Crash was born, and also bursts of bubbles. Confusion was born, also rushing, rumbling shaking earth. So closes the "second night of Wakea," which, it is interesting to note, ends like a charade in the death of Kupololiilialiimualoipo, whose nomenclature has been so vastly accumulating through the 200 or 300 last lines. Notice how the first word _Kupo_ of the series opens and swallows all the other five. Such recitative and, as it were, symbolic use of genealogical chants occurs over and over again. That the series is often of emotional rather than of historical value is suggested by the wordplays and by the fact that the hero tales do not show what is so characteristic of Icelandic saga--a care to record the ancestry of each character as it is introduced into the story. To be sure, they commonly begin with the names of the father and mother of the hero, and their setting; but in the older mythological tales these are almost invariably _Ku_ and _Hina_, a convention almost equivalent to the phrase "In the olden time"; but, besides fixing the divine ancestry of the hero, carrying also with it an idea of kinship with those to whom the tale is related, which is not without its emotional value. Geographical names, although not enumerated to such an extent in any of the tales and songs now accessible, also have an important place in Hawaiian composition. In the _Laieikawai_ 76 places are mentioned by name, most of them for the mere purpose of identifying a route of travel. A popular form of folk tale is the following, told in Waianae, Oahu: "Over in Kahuku lived a high chief, Kaho'alii. He instructed his son 'Fly about Oahu while I chew the _awa_; before I have emptied it into the cup return to me and rehearse to me all that you have seen.'" The rest of the tale relates the youth's enumeration of the places he has seen on the way. If we turn to the chants the suggestive use of place names becomes still more apparent. Dr. Hyde tells us (_Hawaiian Annual_, 1890, p. 79): "In the Hawaiian chant (_mele_) and dirge (_kanikau_) the aim seems to be chiefly to enumerate every place associated with the subject, and to give that place some special epithet, either attached to it by commonplace repetition or especially devised for the occasion as being particularly characteristic." An example of this form of reference is to be found in the _Kualii_ chant. We read: Where is the battle-field Where the warrior is to fight? On the field of Kalena, At Manini, at Hanini, Where was poured the water of the god, By your work at Malamanui, At the heights of Kapapa, at Paupauwela, Where they lean and rest. In the play upon the words _Manini_ and _Hanini_ we recognize some rhetorical tinkering, but in general the purpose here is to enumerate the actual places famous in Kualii's history. At other times a place-name is used with allusive interest, the suggested incident being meant, like certain stories alluded to in the Anglo-Saxon "Beowulf," to set off, by comparison or contrast, the present situation. It is important for the poet to know, for example, that the phrase "flowers of Paiahaa" refers to the place on Kau, Hawaii, where love-tokens cast into the sea at a point some 20 or 30 miles distant on the Puna coast, invariably find their way to shore in the current and bring their message to watchful lovers. A third use of localization conforms exactly to our own sense of description. The Island of Kauai is sometimes visible lying off to the northwest of Oahu. At this side of the island rises the Waianae range topped by the peak Kaala. In old times the port of entry for travelers to Oahu from Kauai was the seacoast village of Waianae. Between it and the village of Waialua runs a great spur of the range, which breaks off abruptly at the sea, into the point Kaena. Kahuku point lies beyond Waialua at the northern extremity of the island. Mokuleia, with its old inland fishpond, is the first village to the west of Waialua. This is the setting for the following lines, again taken from the chant of _Kualii_, the translation varying only slightly from that edited by Thrum: O Kauai, Great Kauai, inherited from ancestors, Sitting in the calm of Waianae, A cape is Kaena, Beyond, Kahuku, A misty mountain back, where the winds meet, Kaala, There below sits Waialua, Waialua there, Kahala is a dish for Mokuleia, A fishpond for the shark roasted in ti-leaf, The tail of the shark is Kaena, The shark that goes along below Kauai, Below Kauai, thy land, Kauai O! The number of such place names to be stored in the reciter's memory is considerable. Not only are they applied in lavish profusion to beach, rock, headland, brook, spring, cave, waterfall, even to an isolated tree of historic interest, and distributed to less clearly marked small land areas to name individual holdings, but, because of the importance of the weather in the fishing and seagoing life of the islander, they are affixed to the winds, the rains, and the surf or "sea" of each locality. All these descriptive appellations the composer must employ to enrich his means of place allusion. Even to-day the Hawaiian editor with a nice sense of emotional values will not, in his obituary notice, speak of a man being missed in his native district, but will express the idea in some such way as this: "Never more will the pleasant _Kupuupuu_ (mist-bearing wind) dampen his brow." The songs of the pleading sisters in the romance of _Laieikawai_ illustrate this conventional usage. In _Kualii_, the poet wishes to express the idea that all the sea belongs to the god Ku. He therefore enumerates the different kinds of "sea," with their locality--"the sea for surf riding," "the sea for casting the net," "the sea for going naked," "the sea for swimming," "the sea for surf riding sideways," "the sea for tossing up mullet," "the sea for small crabs," "the sea of many harbors," etc. The most complete example of this kind of enumeration occurs in the chant of Kuapakaa, where the son of the disgraced chief chants to his lord the names of the winds and rains of all the districts about each island in succession, and then, by means of his grandmother's bones in a calabash in the bottom of the canoe (she is the Hawaiian wind-goddess) raises a storm and avenges his father's honor. He sings: There they are! There they are!! There they are!!! The hard wind of Kohala, The short sharp wind of Kawaihae, The fine mist of Waimea, The wind playing in the cocoanut-leaves of Kekaha, The soft wind of Kiholo, The calm of Kona, The ghost-like wind of Kahaluu, The wind in the hala-tree of Kaawaloa, The moist wind of Kapalilua, The whirlwind of Kau, The mischievous wind of Hoolapa, The dust-driven wind of Maalehu, The smoke-laden wind of Kalauea. There is no doubt in this enumeration an assertion of power over the forces the reciter calls by name, as a descendant of her who has transmitted to him the magic formula. Just so the technician in fishing gear, bark-cloth making, or in canoe or house building, the two crafts specially practiced by chiefs, acquires a very minute nomenclature useful to the reciter in word debate or riddling. The classic example in Hawaiian song is the famous canoe-chant, which, in the legend of _Kana_, Uli uses in preparing the canoe for her grandsons' war expedition against the ravisher of Hina (called the Polynesian Helen of Troy) and which is said to be still employed for exorcism by sorcerers (_Kahuna_), of whom Uli is the patron divinity. The enumeration begins thus: It is the double canoe of Kaumaielieli, Keakamilo the outrigger, Halauloa the body, Luu the part under water, Aukuuikalani the bow; and so on to the names of the cross stick, the lashings, the sails, the bailing cup, the rowers in order, and the seat of each, his paddle, and his "seagoing loin cloth." There is no wordplay perceptible in this chant, but it is doubtful whether the object is to record a historical occurrence or rather to exhibit inspired craftsmanship, the process of enumeration serving as the intellectual test of an inherited gift from the gods. Besides technical interests, the social and economic life of the people centers close attention upon the plant and animal life about them, as well as upon kinds of stone useful for working. Andrews enumerates 26 varieties of edible seaweed known to the Hawaiians. The reciters avail themselves of these well-known terms, sometimes for quick comparison, often for mere enumeration. It is interesting to see how, in the "Song of Creation," in listing plant and animal life according to its supposed order of birth--first, shellfish, then seaweed and grasses, then fishes and forests plants, then insects, birds, reptiles--wordplay is employed in carrying on the enumeration. We read: "The Mano (shark) was born, the Moana was born in the sea and swam, The Mau was born, the Maumau was born in the sea and swam, The Nana was born, the Mana was born in the sea and swam." and so on through Nake and Make, Napa and Nala, Pala and Kala, Paka (eel) and Papa (crab) and twenty-five or thirty other pairs whose signification is in most cases lost if indeed they are not entirely fictitious. Again, 16 fish names are paired with similar names of forest plants; for example: "The Pahau was born in the sea, Guarded by the Lauhau that grew in the forest." "The Hee was born and lived in the sea, Guarded by the Walahee that grew in the forest." Here the relation between the two objects is evidently fixed by the chance likeness of name. On the whole, the Hawaiian takes little interest in stars. The "canoe-steering star," to be sure, is useful, and the "net of Makalii" (the Pleiads) belongs to a well-known folk tale. But star stories do not appear in Hawaiian collections, and even sun and moon stories are rare, all belonging to the older and more mythical tales. Clouds, however, are very minutely observed, both as weather indicators and in the lore of signs, and appear often in song and story.[1] Besides differentiating such visible phenomena, the Polynesian also thinks in parts of less readily distinguishable wholes. When we look toward the zenith or toward the horizon we conceive the distance as a whole; the Polynesian divides and names the space much as we divide our globe into zones. We have seen how he conceives a series of heavens above the earth, order in creation, rank in the divisions of men on earth and of gods in heaven. In the passage of time he records how the sun measures the changes from day to night; how the moon marks off the month; how the weather changes determine the seasons for planting and fishing through the year; and, observing the progress of human life from infancy to old age, he names each stage until "the staff rings as you walk, the eyes are dim like a rat's, they pull you along on the mat," or "they bear you in a bag on the back." Clearly the interest aroused by all this nomenclature is emotional, not rational. There is too much wordplay. Utility certainly plays some part, but the prevailing stimulus is that which bears directly upon the idea of rank, some divine privilege being conceived in the mere act of naming, by which a supernatural power is gained over the object named. The names, as the objects for which they stand, come from the gods. Thus in the story of _Pupuhuluena_, the culture hero propitiates two fishermen into revealing the names of their food plants and later, by reciting these correctly, tricks the spirits into conceding his right to their possession. Thus he wins tuberous food plants for his people. For this reason, exactness of knowledge is essential. The god is irritated by mistakes.[2] To mispronounce even casually the name of the remote relative of a chief might cost a man a valuable patron or even life itself. Some chiefs are so sacred that their names are taboo; if it is a word in common use, there is chance of that word dropping out of the language and being replaced by another. Completeness of enumeration hence has cabalistic value. When the Hawaiian propitiates his gods he concludes with an invocation to the "forty thousand, to the four hundred thousand, to the four thousand"[3] gods, in order that none escape the incantation. Direction is similarly invoked all around the compass. In the art of verbal debate--called _hoopapa_ in Hawaii--the test is to match a rival's series with one exactly parallel in every particular or to add to a whole some undiscovered part.[4] A charm mentioned in folk tale is "to name every word that ends with _lau_." Certain numbers, too, have a kind of magic finality in themselves; for example, to count off an identical phrase by ten without missing a word is the charm by which Lepe tricks the spirits. In the _Kualii_, once more, Ku is extolled as the tenth chief and warrior: The first chief, the second chief, The third chief, the fourth chief, The fifth chief, the sixth chief, The seventh chief, the eighth chief, The ninth, chief, the tenth chief is Ku, Ku who stood, in the path of the rain of the heaven, The first warrior, the second warrior, The third warrior, the fourth warrior, The fifth warrior, the sixth warrior, The seventh warrior, the eighth warrior, The ninth warrior, the tenth warrior Is the Chief who makes the King rub his eyes, The young warrior of all Maui. And there follows an enumeration of the other nine warriors. A similar use is made of counting-out lines in the famous chant of the "Mirage of Mana" in the story of _Lono_, evidently with the idea of completing an inclusive series. Counting-out formulae reappear in story-telling in such repetitive series of incidents as those following the action of the five sisters of the unsuccessful wooer in the _Laieikawai_ story. Here the interest develops, as in the lines from _Kualii_, an added emotional element, that of climax. The last place is given to the important character. Although everyone is aware that the younger sister is the most competent member of the group, the audience must not be deprived of the pleasure of seeing each one try and fail in turn before the youngest makes the attempt. The story-teller, moreover, varies the incident; he does not exactly follow his formula, which, however, it is interesting to note, is more fixed in the evidently old dialogue part of the story than in the explanatory action. Story-telling also exhibits how the vital connection felt to exist between a person or object and the name by which it is distinguished, which gives an emotional value to the mere act of naming, is extended further to include scenes with which it is associated. The Hawaiian has a strong place sense, visible in his devotion to scenes familiar to his experience, and this is reflected in his language. In the _Laieikawai_ it appears in the plaints of the five sisters as they recall their native land. In the songs in the _Halemano_ which the lover sings to win his lady and the chant in _Lonoikamakahiki_ with which the disgraced favorite seeks to win back his lord, those places are recalled to mind in which the friends have met hardship together, in order, if possible, to evoke the same emotions of love and loyalty which were theirs under the circumstances described. Hawaiians of all classes, in mourning their dead, will recall vividly in a wailing chant the scenes with which their lost friend has been associated. I remember on a tramp in the hills above Honolulu coming upon the grass hut of a Hawaiian lately released from serving a term for manslaughter. The place commanded a fine view--the sweep of the blue sea, the sharp rugged lines of the coast, the emerald rice patches, the wide-mouthed valleys cutting the roots of the wooded hills. "It is lonely here?" we asked the man. "_Aole! maikai keia!_" ("No, the view is excellent") he answered. The ascription of perfection of form to divine influence may explain the Polynesian's strong sense for beauty.[5] The Polynesian sees in nature the sign of the gods. In its lesser as in its more marvelous manifestations--thunder, lightning, tempest, the "red rain," the rainbow, enveloping mist, cloud shapes, sweet odors of plants, so rare in Hawaii, at least, or the notes of birds--he reads an augury of divine indwelling. The romances glow with delight in the startling effect of personal beauty upon the beholder--a beauty seldom described in detail save occasionally by similes from nature. In the _Laieikawai_ the sight of the heroine's beauty creates such an ecstasy in the heart of a mere countryman that he leaves his business to run all about the island heralding his discovery. Dreaming of the beauty of Laieikawai, the young chief feels his heart glow with passion for this "red blossom of Puna" as the fiery volcano scorches the wind that fans across its bosom. A divine hero must select a bride of faultless beauty; the heroine chooses her lover for his physical perfections. Now we can hardly fail to see that in all these cases the delight is intensified by the belief that beauty is godlike and betrays divine rank in its possessor. Rank is tested by perfection of face and form. The recognition of beauty thus becomes regulated by express rules of symmetry and surface. Color, too, is admired according to its social value. Note the delight in red, constantly associated with the accouterments of chiefs. _Footnotes to Section III, 2: Nomenclature_ [Footnote 1: In the Hawaiian Annual, 1890, Alexander translates some notes printed by Kamakau in 1865 upon Hawaiian astronomy as related to the art of navigation. The bottom of a gourd represented the heavens, upon which were marked three lines to show the northern and southern limits of the sun's path, and the equator--called the "black shining road of Kane" and "of Kanaloa," respectively, and the "road of the spider" or "road to the navel of Wakea" (ancestor of the race). A line was drawn from the north star to Newe in the south; to the right was the "bright road of Kane," to the left the "much traveled road of Kanaloa." Within these lines were marked the positions of all the known stars, of which Kamakau names 14, besides 5 planets. For notes upon Polynesian astronomy consult Journal of the Polynesian Society, iv, 236. Hawaiian priestly hierarchies recognize special orders whose function it is to read the signs in the clouds, in dreams, or the flight of birds, or to practice some form of divination with the entrails of animals. In Hawaii, according to Fornander, the soothsayers constitute three of the ten large orders of priests, called Oneoneihonua, Kilokilo, and Nanauli, and these are subdivided into lesser orders. _Ike_, knowledge, means literally "to see with, the eyes," but it is used also to express mental vision, or knowledge with reference to the objective means by which such knowledge is obtained. So the "gourd of wisdom"--_ka ipu o ka ike_--which Laieikawai consults, brings distant objects before the eyes so that the woman "knows by seeing" what is going on below. Signs in the clouds are especially observed, both as weather indicators and to forecast the doings of chiefs. According to Westervelt's story of _Keaomelemele_, the lore is taught to mythical ancestors of the Hawaiian race by the gods themselves. The best analysis of South Sea Island weather signs is to be found in Erdland's "Marshall Insulaner," page 69. Early in the morning or in the evening is the time for making observations. Rainbows, _punohu_--doubtfully explained to me as mists touched by the end of a rainbow--and the long clouds which lie along the horizon, forecast the doings of chiefs. A pretty instance of the rainbow sign occurred in the recent history of Hawaii. When word reached Honolulu of the death of King Kalakaua, the throng pressed to the palace to greet their new monarch, and as Her Majesty Liliuokalani appeared upon the balcony to receive them, a rainbow arched across the palace and was instantly recognized as a symbol of her royal rank. In the present story the use of the rainbow symbol shows clumsy workmanship, since near its close the Sun god is represented as sending to his bride as her peculiar distinguishing mark the same sign, a rainbow, which has been hers from birth.] [Footnote 2: Moerenhout (I, 501-507) says that the Areois society in Tahiti, one of whose chief objects was "to preserve the chants and songs of antiquity," sent out an officer called the "Night-walker," _Hare-po_, whose duty it was to recite the chants all night long at the sacred places. If he hesitated a moment it was a bad omen. "Perfect memory for these chants was a gift of god and proved that a god spoke through and inspired the reciter." If a single slip was made, the whole was considered useless. Erdland relates that a Marshall Islander who died in 1906 remembered correctly the names of officers and scholars who came to the islands in the Chamisso party when he was a boy of 8 or 10. Fornander notes that, in collecting Hawaiian chants, of the _Kualii_ dating from about the seventeenth century and containing 618 lines, one copy collected on Hawaii, another on Oahu, did not vary in a single line; of the _Hauikalani_, written just before Kamehameha's time and containing 527 lines, a copy from Hawaii and one from Maui differed only in the omission of a single word. Tripping and stammering games were, besides, practiced to insure exact articulation. (See Turner, Samoa, p. 131; Thomson, pp. 16, 315.)] [Footnote 3: Emerson, Unwritten Literature, p. 24 (note).] [Footnote 4: This is well illustrated in Fornander's story of Kaipalaoa's disputation with the orators who gathered about Kalanialiiloa on Kauai. Say the men: "Kuu moku la e kuu moku, Moku kele i ka waa o Kaula, Moku kele i ka waa, Nihoa, Moku kele i ka waa, Niihau. Lehua, Kauai, Molokai, Oahu, Maui, Lanai, Kahoolawe, Moloklni, Kauiki, Mokuhano, Makaukiu, Makapu, Mokolii." My island there, my island; Island to which my canoe sails, Kaula, Island to which my canoe sails, Nihoa, Island to which my canoe sails, Niihau. Lehua, Kauai, Molokai, Oahu, Maui, Lanai, Kahoolawe, Molokini, Kauiki, Mokuhano, Makaukiu, Makapu, Mokolii. "You are beaten, young man; there are no islands left. We have taken up the islands to be found, none left." Says the boy: "Kuu moku e, kuu moku, O Mokuola, ulu ka ai, Ulu ka niu, ulu ka laau, Ku ka hale, holo ua holoholona." Here is my island, my island _Mokuola_, where grows food, The cocoanut grows, trees grow, Houses stand, animals run. "There is an island for you. It is an island. It is in the sea." (This is a small island off Hilo, Hawaii.) The men try again: "He aina hau kinikini o Kohala, Na'u i helu a hookahi hau, I e hiku hau keu. O ke ama hau la akahi, O ka iaku hau la alua, O ka ilihau la akolu, O ka laau hau la aha, O ke opu hau la alima, O ka nanuna hau la aone, O ka hau i ka mauna la ahiku." A land of many _hau_ trees is Kohala Out of a single _hau_ tree I have counted out And found seven _hau_. The _hau_ for the outriggers makes one, The _hau_ for the joining piece makes two, The _hau_ bark makes three, The _hau_ wood makes four, The _hau_ bush makes five, The large _hau_ tree makes six, The mountain _hau_ makes seven. "Say, young man, you will have no _hau_, for we have used it all. There is none left. If you find any more, you shall live, but if you fail you shall surely die. We will twist your nose till you see the sun at Kumukena. We will poke your eyes with the _Kahili_ handle, and when the water runs out, our little god of disputation shall suck it up--the god Kaneulupo." Says the boy, "You full-grown men have found so many uses, you whose teeth are rotten with age, why can't I, a lad, find other uses, to save myself so that I may live. I shall search for some more hau, and if I fail you shall live, but if I find them you shall surely die." "Aina hau kinikini o Kona, Na'u i helu hookahi hau, A ehiku hau keu. O Honolohau la akahi, O Lanihau la alua O Punohau la akolu, O Kahauloa la aha, O Auhaukea la alima, O Kahauiki la aono, Holo kehau i ka waa kona la ahiku." A land of many _hau_ trees is in _Kona_ Out of a single _hau_ I have counted one, And found seven _hau_. Honolahau makes one, Lanihau makes two, Punohau makes three, Kahauloa makes four, Auhaukea makes five, Kahaniki makes six, The Kehau that drives the canoe at Kona makes seven. (All names of places in the Kona district.) "There are seven _hau_, you men with rotten teeth."] [Footnote 5: Thomson says that the Fijians differ from the Polynesians in their indifference to beauty in nature.] 3. ANALOGY: ITS PICTORIAL QUALITY A second significant trait in the treatment of objective life, swiftness of analogy, affects the Polynesian in two ways: the first is pictorial and plays upon a likeness between objects or describes an idea or mood in metaphorical terms; the second is a mere linguistic play upon words. Much nomenclature is merely a quick picturing which fastens attention upon the special feature that attracts attention; ideas are naturally reinforced by some simple analogy. I recall a curious imported flower with twisted inner tube which the natives call, with a characteristic touch of daring drollery, "the intestines of the clergyman." Spanish moss is named from a prominent figure of the foreign community "Judge Dole's beard." Some native girls, braiding fern wreaths, called my attention to the dark, graceful fronds which grow in the shade and are prized for such work. "These are the natives," they said; then pointing slyly to the coarse, light ferns burned in the sun they added, "these are the foreigners." After the closing exercises of a mission school in Hawaii one of the parents was called upon to make an address. He said: "As I listen to the songs and recitations I am like one who walks through the forest where the birds are singing. I do not understand the words, but the sound is sweet to the ear." The boys in a certain district school on Hawaii call the weekly head inspection "playing the ukulele" in allusion to the literal interpretation of the name for the native banjo. These homely illustrations, taken from the everyday life of the people, illustrate a habit of mind which, when applied for conscious emotional effect, results in much charm of formal expression. The habit of isolating the essential feature leads to such suggestive names as "Leaping water," "White mountain," "The gathering place of the clouds," for waterfall or peak; or to such personal appellations as that applied to a visiting foreigner who had temporarily lost his voice, "The one who never speaks"; or to such a description of a large settlement as "many footprints."[1] The graphic sense of analogy applies to a mountain such a name as "House of the sun"; to the prevailing rain of a certain district the appellation "The rain with a pack on its back," "Leaping whale" or "Ghostlike"; to a valley, "The leaky canoe"; to a canoe, "Eel sleeping in the water." A man who has no brother in a family is called "A single coconut," in allusion to a tree from which hangs a single fruit.[2] This tendency is readily illustrated in the use of synonyms. _Oili_ means "to twist, roll up;" it also means "to be weary, agitated, tossed about in mind." _Hoolala_ means "to branch out," as the branches of a tree; it is also applied in sailing to the deflection from a course. _Kilohana_ is the name given to the outside decorated piece of tapa in a skirt of five layers; it means generally, therefore, "the very best" in contrast to that which is inferior. _Kuapaa_ means literally "to harden the back" with oppressive work; it is applied to a breadfruit parched on the tree or to a rock that shows itself above water. Lilolilo means "to spread out, expand as blossom from bud;" it also applies to an open-handed person. _Nee_ may mean "to hitch along from one place to another," or "to change the mind." _Palele_ means "separate, put somewhere else when there is no place vacant;" it also applies to stammering. These illustrations gathered almost at random may be indefinitely multiplied. I recall a clergyman in a small hamlet on Hawaii who wished to describe the character of the people of that place. Picking up a stone of very close grain of the kind used for pounding and called _alapaa_, literally, "close-grained stone," he explained that because the people of that section were "tight" (stingy) they were called _Kaweleau alapaa_. This ready imitativeness, often converted into caricature, enters into the minutest detail of life and is the clew to many a familiar proverb like that of the canoe on the coral reef quoted in the text.[3] The chants abound in such symbols. Man is "a long-legged fish" offered to the gods. Ignorance is the "night of the mind." The cloud hanging over Kaula is a bird which flies before the wind[4]-- The blackbird begged, The bird of Kaula begged, Floating up there above Waahila. The coconut leaves are "the hair of the trees, their long locks." Kailua district is "a mat spread out narrow and gray." The classic example of the use of such metaphor in Hawaiian song is the famous passage in the _Hauikalani_ in which chiefs at war are compared with a cockfight, the favorite Hawaiian pastime[5] being realistically described in allusion to Keoua's wars on Hawaii: Hawaii is a cockpit; the trained cocks fight on the ground. The chief fights--the dark-red cock awakes at night for battle; The youth fights valiantly--Loeau, son of Keoua. He whets his spurs, he pecks as if eating; He scratches in the arena--this Hilo--the sand of Waiolama. * * * * * He is a well-fed cock. The chief is complete, Warmed in the smokehouse till the dried feathers rattle, With changing colors, like many-colored paddles, like piles of polished Kahili. The feathers rise and fall at the striking of the spurs. Here the allusions to the red color and to eating suggest a chief. The feather brushes waved over a chief and the bright-red paddles of his war fleet are compared to the motion of a fighting cock's bright feathers, the analogy resting upon the fact that the color and the motion of rising and falling are common to all three. This last passage indicates the precise charm of Polynesian metaphor. It lies in the singer's close observation of the exact and characteristic truth which suggests the likeness, an exactness necessary to carry the allusion with his audience, and which he sharpens incessantly from the concrete facts before him. Kuapakaa sings: The rain in the winter comes slanting, Taking the breath away, pressing down the hair, Parting the hair in the middle. The chants are full of such precise descriptions, and they furnish the rich vocabulary of epithet employed in recalling a place, person, or object. Transferred to matters of feeling or emotion, they result in poetical comparisons of much charm. Sings Kuapakaa (Wise's translation): The pointed clouds have become fixed in the heavens, The pointed clouds grow quiet like one in pain before childbirth, Ere it comes raining heavily, without ceasing. The umbilicus of the rain is in the heavens, The streams will yet be swollen by the rain. [Illustration: A HAWAIIAN PADDLER (HENSHAW)] Hina's song of longing for her lost lover in _Laieikawai_ should be compared with the lament of Laukiamanuikahiki when, abandoned by her lover, she sees the clouds drifting in the direction he has taken: The sun is up, it is up; My love is ever up before me. It is causing me great sorrow, it is pricking me in the side, For love is a burden when one is in love, And falling tears are its due. How vividly the mind enters into this analogy is proved, by its swift identification with the likeness presented. Originally this identification was no doubt due to ideas of magic. In romance, life in the open--in the forests or on the sea--has taken possession of the imagination. In the myths heroes climb the heavens, dwelling half in the air; again they are amphibian like their great lizard ancestors. In the _Laieikawai_, as in so many stories, note how much of the action takes place on or in the sea--canoeing, swimming, or surfing. In less humanized tales the realization is much more fantastic. To the Polynesian, mind such figurative sayings as "swift as a bird" and "swim like a fish" mean a literal transformation, his sense of identity being yet plastic, capable of uniting itself with whatever shape catches the eye. When the poet Marvel says-- Casting the body's vest aside, My soul into the boughs does glide; There, like a bird, it sits and sings, Then whets and combs its silver wings, And, till prepared for longer flight, Waves in its plumes the various light-- he is merely expressing a commonplace of primitive mental experience, transformation stories being of the essence of Polynesian as of much primitive speculation about the natural objects to which his eye is drawn with wonder and delight. _Footnotes to Section III, 3: Analogy_ [Footnote 1: Turner, Samoa, p. 220.] [Footnote 2: Ibid.; Moerenhout, I, 407-410.] [Footnote 3: Turner, Samoa, pp. 216-221; Williams and Calvert, I, p. 110.] [Footnote 4: Williams and Calvert, I, 118.] [Footnote 5: Moerenhout, II, 146.] 4. THE DOUBLE MEANING; PLAYS ON WORDS Analogy is the basis of many a double meaning. There is, in fact, no lyric song describing natural scenery that may not have beneath it some implied, often indelicate, allusion whose riddle it takes an adroit and practiced mind to unravel. This riddling tendency of figurative verse seems to be due to the aristocratic patronage of composition, whose tendency was to exalt language above the comprehension of the common people, either by obscurity, through ellipsis and allusion, or by saying one thing and meaning another. A special chief's language was thus evolved, in which the speaker might couch his secret resolves and commands unsuspected by those who stood within earshot. Quick interpretation of such symbols was the test of chiefly rank and training. On the other hand, the wish to appear innocent led him to hide his meaning in a commonplace observation. Hence nature and the objects and actions of everyday life were the symbols employed. For the heightened language of poetry the same chiefly strain was cultivated--the allusion, metaphor, the double meaning became essential to its art; and in the song of certain periods a play on words by punning and word linking became highly artificial requirements.[1] Illustrations of this art do not fall upon a foreign ear with the force which they have in the Polynesian, because much of the skill lies in tricks with words impossible to translate, and often the jest depends upon a custom or allusion with which the foreigner is unfamiliar. It is for this reason that such an art becomes of social value, because only the chief who keeps up with the fashion and the follower who hangs upon the words of his chief can translate the allusion and parry the thrust or satisfy the request. In a Samoan tale a wandering magician requests in one village "to go dove catching," and has the laugh on his simple host because he takes him at his word instead of bringing him a wife. In a Tongan story[2] the chief grows hungry while out on a canoe trip, and bids his servant, "Look for a banana stalk on the weather side of the boat." As this is the side of the women, the command meant "Kill a woman for me to eat." The woman designed for slaughter is in this case wise enough to catch his meaning and save herself and child by hiding under the canoe. In Fornander's story a usurper and his accomplice plan the moment for the death of their chief over a game of _konane_, the innocent words which seem to apply to the game being uttered by the conspirators with a more sinister meaning. The language of insults and opprobrium is particularly rich in such double meanings. The pig god, wishing to insult Pélé, who has refused his advances, sings of her, innocently enough to common ears, as a "woman pounding _noni_." Now, the _noni_ is the plant from which red dye is extracted; the allusion therefore is to Pélé's red eyes, and the goddess promptly resents the implication. It is to this chiefly art of riddling that we must ascribe the stories of riddling contests that are handed down in Polynesian tales. The best Hawaiian examples are perhaps found in Fornander's _Kepakailiula_. Here the hero wins supremacy over his host by securing the answer to two riddles--"The men that stand, the men that lie down, the men that are folded," and "Plaited all around, plaited to the bottom, leaving an opening." The answer is in both cases a house, for in the first riddle "the timbers stand, the batons lie down, the grass is folded under the cords"; in the second, the process of thatching is described in general terms. In the story of _Pikoiakaala_, on the other hand; the hero puzzles his contestants by riddling with the word "rat." This word riddling is further illustrated in the story of the debater, Kaipalaoa, already quoted. His opponents produce this song: The small bird chirps; it shivers in the rain, in Puna, at Keaau, at Iwainalo, and challenge him to "find another _nalo_." Says the boy: The crow caw caws; it shines in the rain. In _Kona_, at _Honalo_, it is hidden (_nalo_). Thus, by using _nalo_ correctly in the song in two ways, he has overmatched his rivals. In the elaborated _hula_ songs, such as Emerson quotes, the art can be seen in full perfection. Dangerous as all such interpretation of native art must be for a foreigner, I venture in illustration, guided by Wise's translation, the analysis of one of the songs sung by Halemano to win back his lost lady love, the beauty of Puna. The circumstances are as follows: Halemano, a Kauai chief, has wedded a famous beauty of Puna, Hawaii, who has now deserted him for a royal lover. Meanwhile a Kohala princess who loves him seeks to become his mistress, and makes a festival at which she may enjoy his company. The estranged wife is present, and during the games he sings a series of songs to reproach her infidelity. One of them runs thus: Ke kua ia mai la e ke kai ka hala o Puna. E halaoa ana me he kanaka la, Lulumi iho la i kai o Hilo-e. Hanuu ke kai i luna o Mokuola. Ua ola ae nei loko i ko aloha-e. He kokua ka inaina no ke kanaka. Hele kuewa au i ke alanui e! Pela, peia, pehea au e ke aloha? Auwe kuu wahine--a! Kuu hoa o ka ulu hapapa o Kalapana. O ka la hiki anuanu ma Kumukahi. Akahi ka mea aloha o ka wahine. Ke hele neiia wela kau manawa, A huihui kuu piko i ke aloha, Ne aie kuu kino no ia la-e. Hoi mai kaua he a'u koolau keia, Kuu wahine hoi e! Hoi mai. Hoi mai kaua e hoopumehana. Ka makamaka o ia aina makua ole. Hewn down by the sea are the pandanus trees of Puna. They are standing there like men, Like a multitude in the lowlands of Hilo. Step by step the sea rises above the Isle-of-life. So life revives once more within me, for love of you. A bracer to man is wrath. As I wandered friendless over the highways, alas! That way, this way, what of me, love? Alas, my wife--O! My companion of the shallow planted breadfruit of Kalapana. Of the sun rising cold at Kumukahi. Above all else the love of a wife. For my temples burn, And my heart (literally "middle") is cold for your love, And my body is under bonds to her (the princess of Kohala). Come back to me, a wandering Au bird of Koolau, My love, come back. Come back and let us warm each other with love, Beloved one in a friendless land (literally, "without parents"). Paraphrased, the song may mean: The sea has encroached upon the shore of Puna and Hilo so that the _hala_ trees stand out in the water; still they stand firm in spite of the flood. So love floods my heart, but I am braced by anger. Alas! my wife, have you forgotten the days when we dwelt in Kalapana and saw the sun rise beyond Cape Kumukahi? I burn and freeze for your love, yet my body is engaged to the princess of Kohala, by the rules of the game. Come back to me! I am from Kauai, in the north, and here in Puna I am a stranger and friendless. The first figure alludes to the well-known fact that the sinking of the Puna coast has left the pandanus trunks standing out in the water, which formerly grew on dry land. The poetical meaning, however, depends first upon the similarity in sound between _Ke kua_, "to cut," which begins the parallel, and _He Kokua_, which is also used to mean cutting, but implies assisting, literally "bracing the back," and carries over the image to its analogue; and, second, upon the play upon the word ola, life: "The sea floods the isle of life--yes! Life survives in spite of sorrow," may be the meaning. In the latter part of the song the epithets _anuanu_, chilly, and _hapapa_, used of seed planted in shallow soil, may be chosen in allusion to the cold and shallow nature of her love for him. The nature of Polynesian images must now be apparent. A close observer of nature, the vocabulary of epithet and image with which it has enriched the mind is, especially in proverb or figurative verse, made use of allusively to suggest the quality of emotion or to convey a sarcasm. The quick sense of analogy, coupled with a precise nomenclature, insures its suggestive value. So we find in the language of nature vivid, naturalistic accounts of everyday happenings in fantastic reshapings, realistically conceived and ascribed to the gods who rule natural phenomena; a figurative language of signs to be read as an implied analogy; allusive use of objects, names, places, to convey the associated incident, or the description of a scene to suggest the accompanying emotion; and a sense of delight in the striking or phenomenal in sound, perfume, or appearance, which is explained as the work of a god. _Footnotes to Section III, 4: The Double Meaning_ [Footnote 1: See Moerenhout, II, 210; Jarves, p. 34; Alexander in Andrews' Dict., p. xvi; Ellis, I, 288; Gracia, p. 65; Gill, Myths and Songs, p. 42.] [Footnote 2: Fison, p. 100.] 5. CONSTRUCTIVE ELEMENTS OF STYLE Finally, to the influence of song, as to the dramatic requirements of oral delivery, are perhaps due the retention of certain constructive elements of style. No one can study the form of Hawaiian poetry without observing that parallelism is at the basis of its structure. The same swing gets into the prose style. Perhaps the necessity of memorizing also had its effect. A composition was planned for oral delivery and intended to please the ear; tone values were accordingly of great importance. The variation between narrative, recitative, and formal song; the frequent dialogue, sometimes strictly dramatic; the repetitive series in which the same act is attempted by a succession of actors, or the stages of an action are described in exactly the same form, or a repetition is planned in ascending scale; the singsong value of the antithesis;[1] the suspense gained by the ejaculation[2]--all these devices contribute values to the ear which help to catch and please the sense. _Footnotes to Section III, 5: Constructive Elements of Style_ [Footnote 1: The following examples are taken from the Laieikawai, where antithesis is frequent: "Four children were mine, four are dead." "Masters inside and outside" (to express masters over everything). "I have seen great and small, men and women; low chiefs, men and women; high chiefs." "When you wish to go, go; if you wish to stay, this is Hana, stay here." "As you would do to me, so shall I to you." "I will not touch, you, you must not touch me." "Until day becomes night and night day." "If it seems good I will consent; if not, I will refuse." "Camped at some distance from A's party and A's party from them." "Sounds only by night, ... never by day." "Through us the consent, through us the refusal." "You above, our wife below." "Thunder pealed, this was Waka's work; thunder pealed, this was Malio's work." "Do not look back, face ahead." "Adversity to one is adversity to all;" "we will not forsake you, do not you forsake us." "Not to windward, go to leeward." "Never ... any destruction before like this; never will any come hereafter." "Everyone has a god, none is without." "There I stood, you were gone." "I have nothing to complain of you, you have nothing to complain of me." The balanced sentence structure is often handled with particular skill: "If ... a daughter, let her die; however many daughters ... let them die." "The penalty is death, death to himself, death to his wife, death to all his friends." "Drive him away; if he should tell you his desire, force him away; if he is very persistent, force him still more." "Again they went up ... again the chief waited ... the chief again sent a band." "A crest arose; he finished his prayer to the amen; again a crest arose, the second this; not long after another wave swelled." "If she has given H. a kiss, if she has defiled herself with him, then we lose the wife, then take me to my grave without pity. But if she has hearkened ... then she is a wife for you, if my grandchild has hearkened to my command." A series of synonyms is not uncommon, or the repetition of an idea in other words: "Do not fear, have no dread." "Linger not, delay not your going." "Exert your strength, all your godlike might." "Lawless one, mischief maker, rogue of the sea." "Princess of broad Hawaii, Laieikawai, our mistress." "House of detention, prison-house." "Daughter, lord, preserver."] [Footnote 2: In the course of the story of _Laieikawai_ occur more than 50 ejaculatory phrases, more than half of these in the narrative, not the dialogue, portion: 1. The most common is used to provide suspense for what is to follow and is printed without the point--_aia hoi_, literally, "then (or there) indeed," with the force of our lo! or behold! 2. Another less common form, native to the Hawaiian manner of thought, is the contradiction of a plausible conjecture--_aole ka!_ "not so!". Both these forms occur in narrative or in dialogue. The four following are found in dialogue alone: 3. _Auhea oe?_ "where are you?" is used to introduce a vigorous address. 4. _Auwe!_ to express surprise (common in ordinary speech), is rare in this story. 5. The expression of surprise, _he mea kupapaha_, is literally "a strange thing," like our impersonal "it is strange" 6. The vocable _e_ is used to express strong emotion. 7. Add to these an occasional use, for emphasis, of the belittling question, whose answer, although generally left to be understood, may be given; for example: _A heaha la o Haua-i-liki ia Laie-i-ka-wai? he opala paha_, "What was Hauailiki to Laieikawai? 'mere chaff!'", and the expression of contempt--_ka_--with which the princess dismisses her wooer] IV. CONCLUSIONS 1. Much of the material of Hawaiian song and story is traditional within other Polynesian groups. 2. Verse making is practiced as an aristocratic art of high social value in the households of chiefs, one in which both men and women take part. 3. In both prose and poetry, for the purpose of social aggrandizement, the theme is the individual hero exalted through his family connection and his own achievement to the rank of divinity. 4. The action of the story generally consists in a succession of contests in which is tested the hero's claim to supernatural power. These contests range from mythical encounters in the heavens to the semihistorical rivalries of chiefs. 5. The narrative may take on a high degree of complexity, involving many well-differentiated characters and a well-developed art of conversation, and in some instances, especially in revenge, trickster, or recognition motives, approaching plot tales in our sense of the word. 6. The setting of song or story, both physical and social, is distinctly realized. Stories persist and are repeated in the localities where they are localized. Highly characteristic are stories of rock transformations and of other local configurations, still pointed to as authority for the tale. 7. Different types of hero appear: (_a_) The hero may be a human being of high rank and of unusual power either of strength, skill, wit, or craft. (_b_) He may be a demigod of supernatural power, half human, half divine. (_c_) He may be born in shape of a beast, bird, fish, or other object, with or without the power to take human form or monstrous size. (_d_) He may bear some relation to the sun, moon, or stars, a form rare in Hawaii, but which, when it does occur, is treated objectively rather than allegorically. (_e_) He may be a god, without human kinship, either one of the "departmental gods" who rule over the forces of nature, or of the hostile spirits who inhabited the islands before they were occupied by the present race. (_f_) He may be a mere ordinary man who by means of one of these supernatural helpers achieves success. 8. Poetry and prose show a quite different process of development. In prose, connected narrative has found free expression. In poetry, the epic process is neglected. Besides the formal dirge and highly developed lyric songs (often accompanied and interpreted by dance), the characteristic form is the eulogistic hymn, designed to honor an individual by rehearsing his family's achievements, but in broken and ejaculatory panegyric rather than in connected narrative. In prose, again, the picture presented is highly realistic. The tendency is to humanize and to localize within the group the older myth and to develop later legendary tales upon a naturalistic basis. Poetry, on the other hand, develops set forms, plays with double meanings. Its character is symbolic and obscure and depends for its style upon, artificial devices. 9. Common to each are certain sources of emotional Interest such as depend upon a close interplay of ideas developed within an intimate social group. In prose occur conventional episodes, highly elaborated minor scenes, place names in profusion which have little to do with the action of the story, repetitions by a series of actors of the same incident in identical form, and in the dialogue, elaborate chants, proverbial sayings, antithesis and parallelism. In poetry, the panegyric proceeds by the enumeration of names and their qualities, particularly place or technical names; by local and legendary allusions which may develop into narrative or descriptive passages of some length; and by eulogistic comparisons drawn from nature or from social life and often elaborately developed. The interjectional expression of emotion, the rhetorical question, the use of antithesis, repetition, wordplay (puns and word-linking) and mere counting-out formulas play a striking part, and the riddling element, both in the metaphors employed and in the use of homonyms, renders the sense obscure. PERSONS IN THE STORY 1. AIWOHI-KUPUA. A young chief of Kauai, suitor to Laie-i-ka-wai. 2. AKIKEEHIALE. The turnstone, messenger of Aiwohikupua. 3. AWAKEA. "Noonday." The bird that guards the doors of the sun. 4. HALA-ANIANI. A young rascal of Puna. 5. HALULU-I-KE-KIHE-O-KA-MALAMA. The bird who bears the visitors to the doors of the sun. 6. HATUA-I-LIKI. "Strike-in-beating." A young chief of Kauai, suitor to Laie-i-ka-wai. 7. HAUNAKA. A champion boxer of Kohala. 8. HINA-I-KA-MALAMA. A chiefess of Maui. 9. HULU-MANIANI. "Waving feather." A seer of Kauai. 10. IHU-ANU. "Cold-nose." A champion boxer of Kohala. 11. KA-ELO-I-KA-MALAMA. The "mother's brother" who guards the land of Nuumealani. 12. KA-HALA-O-MAPU-ANA. "The sweet-scented hala." The youngest sister of Aiwohikupua. 13. KAHAU-O-KAPAKA. The chief of Koolau, Oahu, father of Laie-i-ka-wai. 14. KAHOUPO 'KANE. Attendant upon Poliahu. 15. KA-ILI-O-KA-LAU-O-KE-KOA. "The-skin-of-the-leaf-of-the-koa (tree)." The wife of Kauakahialii. 16. KALAHUMOKU. The fighting dog of Aiwohikupua. 17. KA-OHU-KULO-KIALEA. "The-moving-cloud-of-Kaialea." Guard of the shade at the taboo house of Kahiki. 18. KA-ONOHI-O-KA-LA. "The-eyeball-of-the-sun." A high taboo chief, who lives in Kahiki. 19. KAPUKAI-HAOA. A priest, grandfather of Laie-i-ka-wai. 20. KAUA-KAHI-ALII. The high chief of Kauai. 21. KAULAAI-LEHUA. A beautiful princess of Molokai. 22. KE-KALUKALU-O-KE-WA. Successor to Kauakahi-alii and suitor to Laie-i-ka-wai. 23. KIHA-NUI-LULU-MOKU. "Great-convulsion-shaking-the-island." A guardian spirit of Pali-uli. 24. KOAE. The tropic bird. Messenger of Aiwohikupua. 25. LAIE-I-KA-WAI. A species of the _ieie_ vine. (?) The beauty of Pali-uli. 26. LAIE-LOHELOHE. Another species of the _ieie_ vine. (?) Twin sister of Laie-i-ka-wai. 27. LANALANA-NUI-AI-MAKUA. "Great-ancestral-spider." The one who lets down the pathway to the heavens. 28. LAU-KIELE-ULA. "Red-kiele-leaf." The mother who attends the young chief in the taboo house at Kahiki. 29. LILI-NOE. "Fine-fog." Attendant to Poliahu. 30. MAHINA-NUI-KONANE. "Big-bright-moon." Guard of the shade at the taboo house at Kahiki. 31. MAILE-HAIWALE. "Brittle-leafed-maile-vine." Sister of Aiwohikupua. 32. MAILE-KALUHEA. "Big-leafed-maile-vine." Sister of Aiwohikupua. 33. MAILE-LAULII. "Fine-leaf ed-maile-vine." Sister of Aiwohikupua. 34. MAILE-PAKAHA. "Common-maile-vine." Sister of Aiwohikupua. 35. MAKA-WELI. "Terrible-eyes." A young chief of Kauai. 36. MALAEKAHANA. The mother of Laie-i-ka-wai. 37. MALIO. A sorceress, sister of the Puna rascal, 38. MOANALIHA-I-KA-WAOKELE. A powerful chief in Kahiki. 39. MOKU-KELE-KAHIKI. "Island-sailing-to-Kahiki." The mother's brother who guards the land of Ke-alohi-lani. 40. POLI-AHU. "Cold-bosom." A high chiefess who dwells on Maunakea. 41. POLOULA. A chief at Wailua, Kauai. 42. ULILI. The snipe. Messenger to Aiwohikupua. 43. WAI-AIE. "Water-mist." Attendant of Poliahu. 44. WAKA. A sorceress, grandmother of Laie-i-ka-wai. The chief counsellor of Aiwohikupua. The humpbacked attendant of Laie-i-ka-wai. A canoe owner of Molokai. A chief of Molokai, father of Kaulaailehua. A countrywoman of Hana. Paddlers, soldiers, and country people. ACTION OF THE STORY Twin sisters, Laieikawai and Laielohelohe, are born in Koolau, Oahu, their birth heralded by a double clap of thunder. Their father, a great chief over that district, has vowed to slay all his daughters until a son is born to him. Accordingly the mother conceals their birth and intrusts them to her parents to bring up in retirement, the priest carrying the younger sister to the temple at Kukaniloko and Waka hiding Laieikawai in the cave beside the pool Waiapuka. A prophet from Kauai who has seen the rainbow which always rests over the girl's dwelling place, desiring to attach himself to so great a chief, visits the place, but is eluded by Waka, who, warned by her husband, flies with her charge, first to Molokai, where a countryman, catching sight of the girl's face, is so transported with her beauty that he makes the tour of the island proclaiming her rank, thence to Maui and then to Hawaii, where she is directed to a spot called Paliuli on the borders of Puna, a night's journey inland through the forest from the beach at Keaau. Here she builds a house for her "grandchild" thatched with the feathers of the _oo_ bird, and appoints birds to serve her, a humpbacked attendant to wait upon her, and mists to conceal her when she goes abroad. To the island of Kauai returns its high chief, Kauakahialii, after a tour of the islands during which he has persuaded the fair mistress of Paliuli to visit him. So eloquent is his account of her beauty that the young chief Aiwohikupua, who has vowed to wed no woman from his own group, but only one from "the land of good women," believes that here he has found his wish. He makes the chief's servant his confidant, and after dreaming of the girl for a year, he sets out with his counsellor and a canoeload of paddlers for Paliuli. On the way he plays a boxing bout with the champion of Kohala, named Cold-nose, whom he dispatches with a single stroke that pierces the man through the chest and comes out on the other side. Arrived at the house in the forest at Paliuli, he is amazed to find it thatched all over with the precious royal feathers, a small cloak of which he is bearing as his suitor's gift. Realizing the girl's rank, he returns at once to Kauai to fetch his five sweet-scented sisters to act as ambassadresses and bring him honor as a wooer. Laieikawai, however, obstinately refuses the first four; and the angry lover in a rage refuses to allow the last and youngest to try her charms. Abandoning them, all to their fate in the forest, he sails back to Kauai. The youngest and favorite, indeed, he would have taken with him, but she will not abandon her sisters. By her wit and skill she gains the favor of the royal beauty, and all five are taken into the household of Laieikawai to act as guardians of her virginity and pass upon any suitors for her hand. When Aiwohikupua, on his return, confesses his ill fortune, a handsome comrade, the best skilled in surfing over all the islands, lays a bet to win the beauty of Paliuli. He, too, returns crestfallen, the guards having proved too watchful. But Aiwohikupua is so delighted to hear of his sisters' position that he readily cancels the debt and hurries off to Puna. His sisters, however, mindful of his former cruelty, deny him access, and he returns to Kauai burning with rage, to collect a war party to lead against the obdurate girls. Only after band after band has been swallowed up in the jaws of the great lizard who guards Paliuli, and his supernatural fighting dog has returned with ears bitten off and tail between its legs, does he give over the attempt and return home disconsolate to Kauai. Now, on his first voyage to Puna, as the chief came to land at Hana, Maui, a high chiefess named Hina fell in love with him. The two staking their love at a game of _konane_, she won him for her lover. He excused himself under pretext of a vow to first tour about Hawaii, but pledged himself to return. On the return trip he encountered and fell in love with the woman of the mountain, Poliahu or Snow-bosom, but she, knowing through her supernatural power of his affair with Hina, refused his advances. Now, however, he determines to console himself with this lady. His bird ambassadors go first astray and notify Hina, but finally the tryst is arranged, the bridal cortege arrives in state, and the bridal takes place. On their return to Kauai during certain games celebrated by the chiefs, the neglected Hina suddenly appears and demands her pledge. The jealous Poliahu disturbs the new nuptials by plaguing their couch first with freezing cold, then with burning heat, until she has driven away her rival. She then herself takes her final departure. Kauakahialii, the high chief of Kauai, now about to die, cedes the succession to his favorite chief, Kekalukaluokewa, and bids him seek out the beauty of Paliuli for a bride. He is acceptable to both the girl and her grandmother--to the first for his good looks, to the second for his rank and power. But before the marriage can be consummated a wily rascal of Puna, through the arts of his wise sister Malio, abducts Laieikawai while she and her lover are out surfing, by his superior dexterity wins her affection, and makes off with her to Paliuli. When the grandmother discovers her grandchild's disgrace, she throws the girl over and seeks out her twin sister on Oahu to offer as bride to the great chief of Kauai. So beautiful is Laielohelohe that now the Puna rascal abandons his wife and almost tricks the new beauty out of the hands of the noble bridegroom; but this time the marriage is successfully managed, the mists clear, and bride and bridegroom appear mounted upon birds, while all the people shout, "The marriage of the chiefs!" The spectacle is witnessed by the abandoned beauty and her guardians, who have come thither riding upon the great lizard; and on this occasion Waka denounces and disgraces her disowned grandchild. Left alone by her grandmother, lordly lover, and rascally husband, Laieikawai turns to the five virgin sisters and the great lizard to raise her fortunes. The youngest sister proposes to make a journey to Kealohilani, or the Shining-heavens, and fetch thence her oldest brother, who dwells in the "taboo house on the borders of Tahiti." As a youth of the highest divine rank, he will be a fit mate to wed her mistress. The chiefess consents, and during the absence of the ambassadress, goes journeying with her four remaining guardians. During this journey she is seen and recognized by the prophet of Kauai, who has for many years been on the lookout for the sign of the rainbow. Under his guardianship she and the four sisters travel to Kauai, to which place the scene now shifts. Here they once more face Aiwohikupua, and the prophet predicts the coming of the avenger. Meanwhile the lizard bears the youngest sister over sea. She ascends to various regions of the heavens, placating in turn her maternal uncles, father, and mother, until finally she reaches the god himself, where he lies basking in the white radiance of the noonday sun. Hearing her story, this divine one agrees to lay aside his nature as a god and descend to earth to wed his sister's benefactress and avenge the injuries done by his brother and Waka. Signs in the heavens herald his approach; he appears within the sun at the back of the mountain and finally stands before his bride, whom he takes up with him on a rainbow to the moon. At his return, as he stands upon the rainbow, a great sound of shouting is heard over the land in praise of his beauty. Thus he deals out judgment upon Laieikawai's enemies: Waka falls dead, and Aiwohikupua is dispossessed of his landed rights. Next, he rewards her friends with positions of influence, and leaving the ruling power to his wife's twin sister and her husband, returns with Laieikawai to his old home in the heavens. In the final chapters the Sun-god himself, who is called "The eyeball-of-the-sun," proves unfaithful. He falls captive to the charms of the twin sister, sends his clever youngest sister, whose foresight he fears, to rule in the heavens, and himself goes down to earth on some pretext in pursuit of the unwilling Laielohelohe. Meanwhile his wife sees through the "gourd of knowledge" all that is passing on earth and informs his parents of his infidelity. They judge and disgrace him; the divine Sun-god becomes the first _lapu_, or ghost, doomed to be shunned by all, to live in darkness and feed upon butterflies. The beauty of Paliuli, on the other hand, returns to earth to live with her sister, where she is worshiped and later deified in the heavens as the "Woman-of-the-Twilight." BACKGROUND OF THE STORY. Whatever the original home of the _Laieikawai_ story, the action as here pictured, with the exception of two chapters, is localized on the Hawaiian group. This consists of eight volcanic islands lying in the North Pacific, where torrid and tropical zones meet, about half again nearer to America than Asia, and strung along like a cluster of beads for almost 360 miles from Kauai on the northwest to the large island of Hawaii on the southeast. Here volcanic activity, extinct from prehistoric times on the other islands, still persists. Here the land attains its greatest elevation--13,825 feet to the summit of the highest peak--and of the 6,405 square miles of land area which constitute the group 4,015 belong to Hawaii. Except in temperature, which varies only about 11 degrees mean for a year, diversity marks the physical features of these mid-sea islands. Lofty mountains where snow lies perpetually, huge valleys washed by torrential freshets, smooth sand dunes, or fluted ridges, arid plains and rain-soaked forests, fringes of white beach, or abrupt bluffs that drop sheer into the deep sea, days of liquid sunshine or fierce storms from the south that whip across the island for half a week, a rainfall varying from 287 to 19 inches in a year in different localities--these are some of the contrasts which come to pass in spite of the equable climate. A similar diversity marks the plant and sea life--only in animal, bird, and especially insect life, are varieties sparsely represented. Most of the action of the story takes place on the four largest islands--on Oahu, where the twins are born; on Maui, the home of Hina, where the prophet builds the temple to his god; on Hawaii, where lies the fabled land of Paliuli and where the surf rolls in at Keaau; and on Kauai, whence the chiefs set forth to woo and where the last action of the story takes place. These, with Molokai and Lanai, which lie off Maui "like one long island," virtually constitute the group. Laie, where the twins are born, is a small fishing village on the northern or Koolau side of Oahu, adjoining that region made famous by the birth and exploits of the pig god, Kamapuaa. North from Laie village, in a cane field above the Government road, is still pointed out the water hole called Waiopuka--a long oval hole like a bathtub dropping to the pool below, said by the natives to be brackish in taste and to rise and fall with the tide because of subterranean connection with the sea. On one side an outjutting rock marks the entrance to a cave said to open out beyond the pool and be reached by diving. Daggett furnishes a full description of the place in the introduction to his published synopsis of the story. The appropriateness of Laie as the birthplace of the rainbow girl is evident to anyone who has spent a week along this coast. It is one of the most picturesque on the islands, with the open sea on one side fringed with white beach, and the Koolau range rising sheer from the narrow strip of the foothills, green to the summit and fluted into fantastic shapes by the sharp edge of the showers that drive constantly down with the trade winds, gleaming with rainbow colors. Kukaniloko, in the uplands of Wahiawa, where Laielohelohe is concealed by her foster father, is one of the most sacred places on Oahu. Its fame is coupled with that of Holoholoku in Wailua, Kauai, as one of the places set apart for the birthplace of chiefs. Tradition says that since a certain Kapawa, grandson of a chief from "Tahiti" in the far past, was born upon this spot, a special divine favor has attended the birth of chiefs upon this spot. Stones were laid out right and left with a mound for the back, the mother's face being turned to the right. Eighteen chiefs stood guard on either hand. Then the taboo drum sounded and the people assembled on the east and south to witness the event. Say the Hawaiians, "If one came in confident trust and lay properly upon the supports, the child would be born with honor; it would be called a divine chief, a burning fire."[1] Even Kaméhaméha desired that his son Liholiho's birth should take place at Kukaniloko. Situated as it is upon the breast of the bare uplands between the Koolau and Waianae Ranges, the place commands a view of surprising breadth and beauty. Though the stones have been removed, through the courtesy of the management of the Waialua plantation a fence still marks this site of ancient interest. The famous hill Kauwiki, where the seer built the temple to his god, and where Hina watched the clouds drift toward her absent lover, lies at the extreme eastern end of Maui. About this hill clusters much mythic lore of the gods. Here the heavens lay within spear thrust to earth, and here stood Maui, whose mother is called Hina, to thrust them apart. Later, Kauwiki was the scene of the famous resistance to the warriors of Umi, and in historic times about this hill for more than half a century waged a rivalry between the warriors of Hawaii and Maui. The poet of the Kualii mentions the hill thrice--once in connection with the legend of Maui, once when he likens the coming forth of the sun at Kauwiki to the advent of Ku, and in a descriptive passage in which the abrupt height is described: Shooting up to heaven is Kauwiki, Below is the cluster of islands, In the sea they are gathered up, O Kauwiki, O Kauwiki, mountain bending over, Loosened, almost falling, Kauwiki-e. Finally, Puna, the easternmost district of the six divisions of Hawaii, is a region rich in folklore. From the crater of Kilauea, which lies on the slope of Mauna Loa about 4,000 feet above sea level, the land slopes gradually to the Puna coast along a line of small volcanic cones, on the east scarcely a mile from the sea. The slope is heavily forested, on the uplands with tall hard-wood trees of _ohia_, on the coast with groves of pandanus. Volcanic action has tossed and distorted the whole district. The coast has sunk, leaving tree trunks erect in the sea. Above the bluffs of the south coast lie great bowlders tossed up by tidal waves. Immense earthquake fissures occur. The soil is fresh lava broken into treacherous hollows, too porous to retain water and preserving a characteristic vegetation. About this region has gathered the mysterious lore of the spirit world. "Fear to do evil in the uplands of Puna," warns the old chant, lest mischief befall from the countless wood spirits who haunt these mysterious forests. Pélé, the volcano goddess, still loves her old haunts in Puna, and many a modern native boasts a meeting with this beauty of the flaming red hair who swept to his fate the brave youth from Kauai when he raced with her down the slope to the sea during the old mythic days when the rocks and hills of Puna were forming. _Footnotes to Background of the Story_ [Footnote 1: _Kuakoa_, iv, No. 31, translated also in _Hawaiian Annual_, 1912, p. 101; Daggett, p. 70; Fornander, II, 272.] [Illustration: MAUNA KEA IN ITS MANTLE OF SNOW (HENSHAW)] LAIE I KA WAI A HAWAIIAN ROMANCE TRANSLATED FROM THE HAWAIIAN TEXT OF S.N. HALEOLE (PRINTED IN HONOLULU, 1863)[1] [Footnote 1: Title pages. (_First edition_.) The story of _Laie-i-ka-wai_, The Beauty of Pali-uli, the Woman-of-the-Twilight. Composed from the old stories of Hawaii. Written by S.N. Haleole, Honolulu, Oahu. Published by Henry W. Whitney, editor of the _Kuakoa_, 1863. (_Second edition_.) The Treasure-Book of Hawaii. The Story of Laie-i-ka-wai who is called The-Woman-of-the-Twilight. Revised and published by Solomon Meheula and Henry Bolster. For the benefit and progress of the new generation of the Hawaiian race. Honolulu. Printed by the _Bulletin_, 1888.] FOREWORD The editor of this book rejoices to print the first fruits of his efforts to enrich the Hawaiian people with a story book. We have previously had books of instruction on many subjects and also those enlightening us as to the right and the wrong; but this is the first book printed for us Hawaiians in story form, depicting the ancient customs of this people, for fear lest otherwise we lose some of their favorite traditions. Thus we couch in a fascinating manner the words and deeds of a certain daughter of Hawaii, beautiful and greatly beloved, that by this means there may abide in the Hawaiian people the love of their ancestors and their country. Take it, then, this little book, for what it is worth, to read and to prize, thus showing your search after the knowledge of things Hawaiian, being ever ready to uphold them that they be not lost. It is an important undertaking for anyone to provide us with entertaining reading matter for our moments of leisure; therefore, when the editor of this book prepared it for publication he depended upon the support of all the friends of learning in these islands; and this thought alone has encouraged him to persevere in his work throughout all the difficulties that blocked his way. Now, for the first time is given to the people of Hawaii a book of entertainment for leisure moments like those of the foreigners, a book to feed our minds with wisdom and insight. Let us all join in forwarding this little book as a means of securing to the people more books of the same nature written in their own tongue--the Hawaiian tongue. And, therefore, to all friends of learning and to all native-born Hawaiians, from the rising to the setting sun, behold the Woman-of-the-Twilight! She comes to you with greetings of love and it is fitting to receive her with the warmest love from the heart of Hawaii. _Aloha no!_[1] [Footnote 1: For the translation of Haleole's foreword, which is in a much more ornate and involved style than the narrative itself, I am indebted to Miss Laura Green, of Honolulu.] CHAPTER I This tale was told at Laie, Koolau; here they were born, and they were twins; Kahauokapaka was the father, Malaekahana the mother. Now Kahauokapaka was chief over two districts, Koolauloa and Koolaupoko, and he had great authority over these districts. At the time when Kahauokapaka took Malaekahana to wife,[1] after their union, during those moments of bliss when they had just parted from the first embrace, Kahauokapaka declared his vow to his wife, and this was the vow:[2] "My wife, since we are married, therefore I will tell you my vow: If we two live hereafter and bear a child and it is a son, then it shall be well with us. Our children shall live in the days of our old age, and when we die they will cover our nakedness.[3] This child shall be the one to portion out the land, if fortune is ours in our first born and it is a boy; but if the first born is a daughter, then let her die; however many daughters are born to us, let them die; only one thing shall save them, the birth of a son shall save those daughters who come after." About the eighth year of their living as man and wife, Malaekahana conceived and bore a daughter, who was so beautiful to look upon, the mother thought that Kahauokapaka would disregard his vow; this child he would save. Not so! At the time when she was born, Kahauokapaka was away at the fishing with the men. When Kahauokapaka returned from the fishing he was told that Malaekahana had born a daughter. The chief went to the house; the baby girl had been wrapped in swaddling clothes; Kahauokapaka at once ordered the executioner to kill it. After a time Malaekahana conceived again and bore a second daughter, more beautiful than the first; she thought to save it. Not so! Kahauokapaka saw the baby girl in its mother's arms wrapped in swaddling clothes; then the chief at once ordered the executioner to kill it. Afterwards Malaekahana bore more daughters, but she could not save them from being killed at birth according to the chief's vow. When for the fifth time Malaekahana conceived a child, near the time of its birth, she went to the priest and said, "Here! Where are you? Look upon this womb of mine which is with child, for I can no longer endure my children's death; the husband is overzealous to keep his vow; four children were mine, four are dead. Therefore, look upon this womb of mine, which is with child; if you see it is to be a girl, I will kill it before it takes human shape.[4] But if you see it is to be a boy, I will not do it." Then the priest said to Malaekahana, "Go home; just before the child is to be born come back to me that I may know what you are carrying." At the time when the child was to be born, in the month of October, during the taboo season at the temple, Malaekahana remembered the priest's command. When the pains of childbirth were upon her, she came to the priest and said, "I come at the command of the priest, for the pains of childbirth are upon me; look and see, then, what kind of child I am carrying." As Malaekahana talked with the priest, he said: "I will show you a sign; anything I ask of you, you must give it." Then the priest asked Malaekahana to give him one of her hands, according to the sign used by this people, whichever hand she wished to give to the priest. Now, when the priest asked Malaekahana to give him one of her hands she presented the left, with the palm upward. Then the priest told her the interpretation of the sign: "You will bear another daughter, for you have given me your left hand with the palm upward." When the priest said this, the heart of Malaekahana was heavy, for she sorrowed over the slaying of the children by her husband; then Malaekahana besought the priest to devise something to help the mother and save the child. Then the priest counseled Malaekahana, "Go back to the house; when the child is about to be born, then have a craving for the _manini_ spawn,[5] and tell Kahauokapaka that he must himself go fishing, get the fish you desire with his own hand, for your husband is very fond of the young _manini_ afloat in the membrane, and while he is out fishing he will not know about the birth; and when the child is born, then give it to me to take care of; when he comes back, the child will be in my charge, and if he asks, tell him it was an abortion, nothing more." At the end of this talk, Malaekahana went back to the house, and when the pains came upon her, almost at the moment of birth, then Malaekahana remembered the priest's counsel to her. When the pain had quieted, Malaekahana said to her husband, "Listen, Kahauokapaka! the spawn of the _manini_ come before my eyes; go after them, therefore, while they are yet afloat in the membrane; possibly when you bring the _manini_ spawn, I shall be eased of the child; this is the first time my labor has been hard, and that I have craved the young of the _manini_; go quickly, therefore, to the fishing." Then Kahauokapaka went out of the house at once and set out. While they were gone the child was born, a girl, and she was given to Waka, and they named her Laieikawai. As they were attending to the first child, a second was born, also a girl, and they named her Laielohelohe. After the girls had been carried away in the arms of Waka and Kapukaihaoa, Kahauokapaka came back from the fishing, and asked his wife, "How are you?" Said the woman, "I have born an abortion and have thrown it into the ocean." Kahauokapaka already knew of the birth while he was on the ocean, for there came two claps of thunder; then he thought that the wife had given birth. At this time of Laieikawai and Laielohelohe's birth thunder first sounded in October,[6] according to the legend. When Waka and Kapukaihaoa had taken their foster children away, Waka said to Kapukaihaoa, "How shall we hide our foster children from Kahauokapaka?" Said the priest, "You had better hide your foster child in the water hole of Waiapuka; a cave is there which no one knows about, and it will be my business to seek a place of protection for my foster child." Waka took Laieikawai where Kapukaihaoa had directed, and there she kept Laieikawai hidden until she was come to maturity. Now, Kapukaihaoa took Laielohelohe to the uplands of Wahiawa, to the place called Kukaniloko.[7] All the days that Laieikawai was at Waiapuka a rainbow arch was there constantly, in rain or calm, yet no one understood the nature of this rainbow, but such signs as attend a chief were always present wherever the twins were guarded. Just at this time Hulumaniani was making a tour of Kauai in his character as the great seer of Kauai, and when he reached the summit of Kalalea he beheld the rainbow arching over Oahu; there he remained 20 days in order to be sure of the nature of the sign which he saw. By that time the seer saw clearly that it was the sign of a great chief--this rainbow arch and the two ends of a rainbow encircled in dark clouds. Then the seer made up his mind to go to Oahu to make sure about the sign which he saw. He left the place and went to Anahola to bargain for a boat to go to Oahu, but he could not hire a boat to go to Oahu. Again the seer made a tour of Kauai; again he ascended Kalalea and saw again the same sign as before, just the same as at first; then he came back to Anahola. While the seer was there he heard that Poloula owned a canoe at Wailua, for he was chief of that place, and he desired to meet Poloula to ask the chief for a canoe to go to Oahu. When Hulumaniani met Poloula he begged of him a canoe to go to Oahu. Then the canoe and men were given to him. That night when the canoe star rose they left Kauai, 15 strong, and came first to Kamaile in Waianae. Before the seer sailed, he first got ready a black pig, a white fowl, and a red fish. On the day when they reached Waianae the seer ordered the rowers to wait there until he returned from making the circuit of the island. Before the seer went he first climbed clear to the top of Maunalahilahi and saw the rainbow arching at Koolauloa, as he saw it when he was on Kalalea. He went to Waiapuka, where Laieikawai was being guarded, and saw no place there set off for chiefs to dwell in. Now, just as the seer arrived, Waka had vanished into that place where Laieikawai was concealed. As the seer stood looking, he saw the rippling of the water where Waka had dived. Then he said to himself: "This is a strange thing. No wind ripples the water on this pool. It is like a person bathing, who has hidden from me." After Waka had been with Laieikawai she returned, but while yet in the water she saw someone sitting above on the bank, so she retreated, for she thought it was Kahauokapaka, this person on the brink of the water hole. Waka returned to her foster child, and came back at twilight and spied to discover where the person had gone whom she saw, but there was the seer sitting in the same place as before. So Waka went back again. The seer remained at the edge of the pool, and slept there until morning. At daybreak, when it was dawn, he arose, saw the sign of the rainbow above Kukaniloko, forsook this place, journeyed about Oahu, first through Koolaupoko; from there to Ewa and Honouliuli, where he saw the rainbow arching over Wahiawa; ascended Kamaoha, and there slept over night; but did not see the sign he sought. CHAPTER II When the seer failed to see the sign which he was following he left Kamaoha, climbed clear to the top of Kaala, and there saw the rainbow arching over Molokai. Then the seer left the place and journeyed around Oahu; a second time he journeyed around in order to be sure of the sign he was following, for the rainbow acted strangely, resting now in that place, now in this. On the day when the seer left Kaala and climbed to the top of Kuamooakane the rainbow bent again over Molokai, and there rested the end of the rainbow, covered out of sight with thunderclouds. Three days he remained on Kuamooakane, thickly veiled in rain and fog. On the fourth day he secured a boat to go to Molokai. He went on board the canoe and had sailed half the distance, when the paddlers grew vexed because the prophet did nothing but sleep, while the pig squealed and the cock crowed. So the paddler in front[8] signed to the one at the rear to turn the canoe around and take the seer back as he slept. The paddlers turned the canoe around and sailed for Oahu. When the canoe turned back, the seer distrusted this, because the wind blew in his face; for he knew the direction of the wind when he left Oahu, and now, thought he, the wind is blowing from the seaward. Then the seer opened his eyes and the canoe was going back to Oahu. Then the seer asked himself the reason, But just to see for himself what the canoe men were doing, he prayed to his god, to Kuikauweke, to bring a great tempest over the ocean. As he prayed a great storm came suddenly upon them, and the paddlers were afraid. Then they awoke him: "O you fellow asleep, wake up, there! We thought perhaps your coming on board would be a good thing for us. Not so! The man sleeps as if he were ashore." When the seer arose, the canoe was making for Oahu. Then he asked the paddlers: "What are you doing to me to take the canoe back again? What have I done?" Then the men said: "We two wearied of your constant sleeping and the pig's squealing and the cock's crowing; there was such a noise; from the time we left until now the noise has kept up. You ought to have taken hold and helped paddle. Not so! Sleep was the only thing for you!" The seer said: "You two are wrong, I think, if you say the reason for your returning to Oahu was my idleness; for I tell you the trouble was with the man above on the seat, for he sat still and did nothing." As he spoke, the seer sprang to the stern of the canoe, took charge of the steering, and they sailed and came to Haleolono, on Molokai. When they reached there, lo! the rainbow arched over Koolau, as he saw it from Kuamooakane; he left the paddlers, for he wished to see the sign which he was following. He went first clear to the top of Waialala, right above Kalaupapa. Arrived there, he clearly saw the rainbow arching over Malelewaa, over a sharp ridge difficult to reach; there, in truth, was Laieikawai hidden, she and her grandmother, as Kapukaihaoa had commanded Waka in the vision. For as the seer was sailing over the ocean, Kapukaihaoa had foreknowledge of what the prophet was doing, therefore he told Waka in a vision to carry Laieikawai away where she could not be found. After the seer left Waialala he went to Waikolu right below Malelewaa. Sure enough, there was the rainbow arching where he could not go. Then he considered for some time how to reach the place to see the person he was seeking and offer the sacrifice he had prepared, but he could not reach it. On the day when the seer went to Waikolu, the same night, came the command of Kapukaihaoa to Laieikawai in a dream, and when she awoke, it was a dream. Then Laieikawai roused her grandmother, and the grandmother awoke and asked her grandchild why she had roused her. The grandchild said to her: "Kapukaihaoa has come to me in a dream and said that you should bear me away at once to Hawaii and make our home in Paliuli; there we two shall dwell; so he told me, and I awoke and wakened you." As Laieikawai was speaking to her grandmother, the same vision came to Waka. Then they both arose at dawn and went as they had both been directed by Kapukaihaoa in a vision. They left the place, went to Keawanui, to the place called Kaleloa, and there they met a man who was getting his canoe ready to sail for Lanai. When they met the canoe man, Waka said: "Will you let us get into the canoe with you, and take us to the place where you intend to go?" Said the canoe man: "I will take you both with me in the canoe; the only trouble is I have no mate to paddle the canoe." And as the man spoke this word, "a mate to paddle the canoe," Laieikawai drew aside the veil that covered her face because of her grandmother's wish completely to conceal her grandchild from being seen by anyone as they went on their way to Paliuli; but her grandchild thought otherwise. When Laieikawai uncovered her face which her grandmother had concealed, the grandmother shook her head at her grandchild to forbid her showing it, lest the grandchild's beauty become thereafter nothing but a common thing. Now, as Laieikawai uncovered her face, the canoe man saw that Laieikawai rivaled in beauty all the daughters of the chiefs round about Molokai and Lanai. And lo! the man was pierced through[9] with longing for the person he had seen. Therefore, the man entreated the grandmother and said: "Unloosen the veil from your grandchild's face, for I see that she is more beautiful than all the daughters of the chiefs round about Molokai and Lanai." The grandmother said: "I do not uncover her because she wishes to conceal herself." At this answer of Waka to the paddler's entreaties, Laieikawai revealed herself fully, for she heard Waka say that she wished to conceal herself, when she had not wanted to at all. And when the paddler saw Laieikawai clearly, desire came to him afresh. Then the thought sprang up within him to go and spread the news around Molokai of this person whom he longed after. Then the paddler said to Laieikawai and her companion, "Where are you! live here in the house; everything within is yours, not a single thing is withholden from you in the house; inside and outside[10] you two are masters of this place." When the canoe man had spoken thus, Laieikawai said, "Our host, shall you be gone long? for it looks from your charge as if you were to be away for good." Said the host, "O daughter, not so; I shall not forsake you; but I must look for a mate to paddle you both to Lanai." And at these words, Waka said to their host, "If that is the reason for your going away, leaving us in charge of everything in your house, then let me say, we can help you paddle." The man was displeased at these words of Waka to him. He said to the strangers, "Let me not think of asking you to paddle the canoe; for I hold you to be persons of importance." Now it was not the man's intention to look for a mate to paddle the canoe with him, but as he had already determined, so now he vowed within him to go and spread around Molokai the news about Laieikawai. When they had done speaking the paddler left them and went away as he had vowed. As he went he came first to Kaluaaha and slept at Halawa, and here and on the way there he proclaimed, as he had vowed, the beauty of Laieikawai. The next day, in the morning, he found a canoe sailing to Kalaupapa, got on board and went first to Pelekunu and Wailau; afterwards he came to Waikolu, where the seer was staying. When he got to Waikolu the seer had already gone to Kalaupapa, but this man only stayed to spread the news of Laieikawai's arrival. When he reached Kalaupapa, behold! a company had assembled for boxing; he stood outside the crowd and cried with a loud voice:[11] "O ye men of the people, husbandmen, laborers, tillers of the soil; O ye chiefs, priests, soothsayers, all men of rank in the household of the chief! All manner of men have I beheld on my way hither; I have seen the high and the low, men and women; low chiefs, the _kaukaualii_, men and women; high chiefs, the _niaupio_, and the _ohi_; but never have I beheld anyone to compare with this one whom I have seen; and I declare to you that she is more beautiful than any of the daughters of the chiefs on Molokai or even in this assembly." Now when he shouted, he could not be heard, for his voice was smothered in the clamor of the crowd and the noise of the onset. And wishing his words to be heard aright, he advanced into the midst of the throng, stood before the assembly, and held up the border of his garment and repeated the words he had just spoken. Now the high chief of Molokai heard his voice plainly, so the chief quieted the crowd and listened to what the stranger was shouting about, for as he looked at the man he saw that his face was full of joy and gladness. At the chief's command the man was summoned before the chief and he asked, "What news do you proclaim aloud with glad face before the assembly?" Then the man told why he shouted and why his face was glad in the presence of the chief: "In the early morning yesterday, while I was working over the canoe, intending to sail to Lanai, a certain woman came with her daughter, but I could not see plainly the daughter's face. But while we were talking the girl unveiled her face. Behold! I saw a girl of incomparable beauty who rivaled all the daughters of the chiefs of Molokai." When the chief heard these words he said, "If she is as good looking as my daughter, then she is beautiful indeed." At this saying of the chief, the man begged that the chiefess be shown to him, and Kaulaailehua, the daughter of the chief, was brought thither. Said the man, "Your daughter must be in four points more beautiful than she is to compare with that other." Replied the chief, "She must be beautiful indeed that you scorn our beauty here, who is the handsomest girl in Molokai." Then the man said fearlessly to the chief, "Of my judgment of beauty I can speak with confidence."[12] As the man was talking with the chief, the seer remained listening to the conversation; it just came to him that this was the one whom he was seeking. So the seer moved slowly toward him, got near, and seized the man by the arm, and drew him quietly after him. When they were alone, the seer asked the man directly, "Did you know that girl before about whom you were telling the chief?" The man denied it and said, "No; I had never seen her before; this was the very first time; she was a stranger to me." So the seer thought that this must be the person he was seeking, and he questioned the man closely where they were living, and the man told him exactly. After the talk, he took everything that he had prepared for sacrifice when they should meet and departed. Chapter III When the seer set out after meeting that man, he went first up Kawela; there he saw the rainbow arching over the place which the man had described to him; so he was sure that this was the person he was following. He went to Kaamola, the district adjoining Keawanui, where Laieikawai and her companion were awaiting the paddler. By this time it was very dark; he could not see the sign he saw from Kawela; but the seer slept there that night, thinking that at daybreak he would see the person he was seeking. That night, while the seer was sleeping at Kaamola, then came the command of Kapukaihaoa to Laieikawai in a dream, just as he had directed them at Malelewaa. At dawn they found a canoe sailing to Lanai, got on board, and went and lived for some time at Maunalei. After Laieikawai and her companion had left Kalaeloa, at daybreak, the seer arose and saw that clouds and falling rain obscrued the sea between Molokai and Lanai with a thick veil of fog and mist. Three days the veil of mist hid the sea, and on the fourth day the seer's stay at Kaamola, in the very early morning, he saw an end of the rainbow standing right above Maunalei. Now the seer regretted deeply not finding the person he was seeking; nevertheless he was not discouraged into dropping the quest. About 10 days passed at Molokai before he saw the end of the rainbow standing over Haleakala; he left Molokai, went first to Haleakala, to the fire pit, but did not see the person he was seeking. When the seer reached there, he looked toward Hawaii; the land was veiled thick in cloud and mist. He left the place, went to Kauwiki, and there built a place of worship[13] to call upon his god as the only one to guide him to the person he was seeking. Whenever the seer stopped in his journeying he directed the people, if they found the person he was following, to search him out wherever he might be. At the end of the days of consecration of the temple, while the seer was at Kauwiki, near the night of the gods Kane and Lono,[14] the land of Hawaii cleared and he saw to the summit of the mountains. Many days the seer remained at Kauwiki, nearly a year or more, but he never saw the sign he had followed thither. One day in June, during the first days of the month, very early in the morning, he caught a glimpse of something like a rainbow at Koolau on Hawaii; he grew excited, his pulse beat quickly, but he waited long and patiently to see what the rainbow was doing. The whole month passed in patient waiting; and in the next month, on the second day of the month, in the evening, before the sun had gone down, he entered the place of worship prepared for his god and prayed. As he prayed, in the midst of the place appeared to the seer the spirit forms[15] of Laieikawai and her grandmother; so he left off praying, nor did those spirits leave him as long as it was light. That night, in his sleep, his god came to him in a vision and said: "I have seen the pains and the patience with which you have striven to find Waka's grandchild, thinking to gain honor through her grandchild. Your prayers have moved me to show you that Laieikawai dwells between Puna and Hilo in the midst of the forest, in a house made of the yellow feathers of the _oo_ bird[16]; therefore, to-morrow, rise and go." He awoke from sleep; it was only a dream, so he doubted and did not sleep the rest of the night until morning. And when it was day, in the early morning, as he was on Kauwiki, he saw the flapping of the sail of a canoe down at Kaihalulu. He ran quickly and came to the landing, and asked the man where the boat was going. The man said, "It is going to Hawaii"; thereupon he entreated the man to take him, and the latter consented. The seer returned up Kauwiki and brought his luggage, the things he had got ready for sacrifice. When he reached the shore he first made a bargain with them: "You paddlers, tell me what you expect of me on this trip; whatever you demand, I will accede to; for I was not well treated by the men who brought me here from Oahu, so I will first make a bargain with you men, lest you should be like them." The men promised to do nothing amiss on this trip, and the talk ended; he boarded the canoe and set out. On the way they landed first at Mahukona in Kohala, slept there that night, and in the morning the seer left the paddlers, ascended to Lamaloloa, and entered the temple of Pahauna,[17] an ancient temple belonging to olden times and preserved until to-day. Many days he remained there without seeing the sign he sought; but in his character as seer he continued praying to his god as when he was on Kauwiki, and in answer to the seer's prayer, he had again the same sign that was shown to him on Kauwiki. At this, he left the place and traversed Hawaii, starting from Hamakua, and the journey lasted until the little pig he started with had grown too big to be carried. Having arrived at Hamakua, he dwelt in the Waipio Valley at the temple of Pakaalana but did not stay there long. The seer left that place, went to Laupahoehoe, and thence to Kaiwilahilahi, and there remained some years. Here we will leave the story of the seer's search. It will be well to tell of the return of Kauakahialii to Kauai with Kailiokalauokekoa.[18] As we know, Laieikawai is at Paliuli. In the first part of the story we saw that Kapukaihaoa commanded Waka in a dream to take Laieikawai to Paliuli, as the seer saw. The command was carried out. Laieikawai dwelt at Paliuli until she was grown to maidenhood. When Kauakahialii and Kailiokalauokekoa returned to Kauai after their meeting with the "beauty of Paliuli" there were gathered together the high chiefs, the low chiefs, and the country aristocracy as well, to see the strangers who came with Kailiokalauokekoa's party. Aiwohikupua came with the rest of the chiefs to wail for the strangers. After the wailing the chiefs asked Kauakahialii, "How did your journey go after your marriage with Kailiokalauokekoa?" Then Kauakahialii told of his journey as follows: "Seeking hence after the love of woman, I traversed Oahu and Maui, but found no other woman to compare with this Kailiokalauokekoa here. I went to Hawaii, traveled all about the island, touched first at Kohala, went on to Kona, Kau, and came to Keaau, in Puna, and there I tarried, and there I met another woman surpassingly beautiful, more so than this woman here (Kailiokalauokekoa), more than all the beauties of this whole group of islands." During this speech Aiwohikupua seemed to see before him the lovely form of that woman. Then said Kauakahialii: "On the first night that she met my man she told him at what time she would reach the place where we were staying and the signs of her coming, for my man told her I was to be her husband and entreated her to come down with him; but she said: 'Go back to this ward of yours who is to be my husband and tell him this night I will come. When rings the note of the _oo_ bird I am not in that sound, or the _alala_, I am not in that sound; when rings the note of the _elepaio_ then am I making ready to descend; when the note of the _apapane_ sounds, then am I without the door of my house; if you hear the note of the _iiwipolena_[19] then am I without your ward's house; seek me, you two, and find me without; that is your ward's chance to meet me.' So my man told me. "When the night came that she had promised she did not come; we waited until morning; she did not come; only the birds sang. I thought my man had lied. Kailiokalauokekoa and her friends were spending the night at Punahoa with friends. Thinking my man had lied, I ordered the executioner to bind ropes about him; but he had left me for the uplands of Paliuli to ask the woman why she had not come down that night and to tell her he was to die. "When he had told Laieikawai all these things the woman said to him, 'You return, and to-night I will come as I promised the night before, so will I surely do.' "That night, the night on which the woman was expected, Kailiokalauokekoa's party had returned and she was recounting her adventures, when just at the edge of the evening rang the note of the _oo_; at 9 in the evening rang the note of the _alala_; at midnight rang the note of the _elepaio_; at dawn rang the note of the _apapane_; and at the first streak of light rang the note of the _iiwipolena_; as soon as it sounded there fell the shadow of a figure at the door of the house. Behold! the room was thick with mist, and when it passed away she lay resting on the wings of birds in all her beauty." At these words of Kauakahialii to the chiefs, all the body of Aiwohikupua pricked with desire, and he asked, "What was the woman's name?" They told him it was Laieikawai, and such was Aiwohikupua's longing for the woman of whom Kauakahialii spoke that he thought to make her his wife, but he wondered who this woman might be. Then he said to Kauakahialii: "I marvel what this woman may be, for I am a man who has made the whole circuit of the islands, but I never saw any woman resting on the wings of birds. It may be she is come hither from the borders of Tahiti, from within Moaulanuiakea."[20] Since Aiwohikupua thought Laieikawai must be from Moaulanuiakea, he determined to get her for his wife. For before he had heard all this story Aiwohikupua had vowed not to take any woman of these islands to wife; he said that he wanted a woman of Moaulanuiakea. The chiefs' reception was ended and the accustomed ceremonies on the arrival of strangers performed. And soon after those days Aiwohikupua took Kauakahialii's man to minister in his presence, thinking that this man would be the means to attain his desire. Therefore Aiwohikupua exalted this man to be head over all things, over all the chief's land, over all the men, chiefs, and common people, as his high counsellor. As this man became great, jealous grew the former favorites of Aiwohikupua, but this was nothing to the chief. CHAPTER IV After this man had become great before the chief, even his high counsellor, they consulted constantly together about those matters which pleased the chief, while the people thought they discussed the administration of the land and of the substance which pertained to the chief; but it was about Laieikawai that the two talked and very seldom about anything else. Even before Aiwohikupua heard from Kauakahialii about Laieikawai he had made a vow before his food companions, his sisters, and before all the men of rank in his household: "Where are you, O chiefs, O my sisters, all my food companions! From this day until my last I will take no woman of all these islands to be my wife, even from Kauai unto Hawaii, no matter how beautiful she is reported to be, nor will I get into mischief with a woman, not with anyone at all. For I have been ill-treated by women from my youth up. She shall be my wife who comes hither from other islands, even from Moaulanuiakea, a place of kind women, I have heard; so that is the sort of woman I desire to marry." When Aiwohikupua had heard Kauakahialii's story, after conferring long with his high counsellor about Laieikawai, then the chief was convinced that this was the woman from Tahiti. Next day, at midday, the chief slept and Laieikawai came to Aiwohikupua in a dream[21] and he saw her in the dream as Kauakahialii had described her. When he awoke, lo! he sorrowed after the vision of Laieikawai, because he had awakened so soon out of sleep; therefore he wished to prolong his midday nap in order to see again her whom he had beheld in his dream. The chief again slept, and again Laieikawai came to him for a moment, but he could not see her distinctly; barely had he seen her face when he waked out of sleep. For this reason his mind was troubled and the chief made oath before all his people: "Where are you? Do not talk while I am sleeping; if one even whispers, if he is chief over a district he shall lose his chiefship; if he is chief over part of a district, he shall lose his chiefship; and if a tenant farmer break my command, death is the penalty." The chief took this oath because of his strong desire to sleep longer in order to make Laieikawai's acquaintance in his dream. After speaking all these words, he tried once more to sleep, but he could not get to sleep until the sun went down. During all this time he did not tell anyone about what he saw in the dream; the chief hid it from his usual confidant, thinking when it came again, then he would tell his chief counsellor. And because of the chief's longing to dream often, he commanded his chief counsellor to chew _awa_. So the counsellor summoned the chief's _awa_ chewers and made ready what the chief commanded, and he brought it to him, and the chief drank with his counsellor and drunkenness possessed him. Then close above the chief rested the beloved image of Laieikawai as if they were already lovers. Then he raised his voice in song, as follows:[22] "Rising fondly before me, The recollection of the lehua blossom of Puna, Brought hither on the tip of the wind, By the light keen wind of the fiery pit. Wakeful--sleepless with heart longing, With desire--O!" Said the counsellor, to the chief, after he had ended his singing, "This is strange! You have had no woman since we two have been living here, yet in your song you chanted as if you had a woman here." Said the chief, "Cut short your talk, for I am cut off by the drink." Then the chief fell into a deep sleep and that ended it, for so heavy was the chief's sleep that he saw nothing of what he had desired. A night and a day the chief slept while the effects of the _awa_ lasted. Said the chief to his counsellor, "No good at all has come from this _awa_ drinking of ours." The counsellor answered, "What is the good of _awa_ drinking? I thought the good of drinking was that admirable scaley look of the skin?"[23] Said the chief, "Not so, but to see Laieikawai, that is the good of _awa_ drinking." After this the chief kept on drinking _awa_ many days, perhaps a year, but he gained nothing by it, so he quit it. It was only after he quit _awa_ drinking that he told anyone how Laieikawai had come to him in the dream and why he had drunk the _awa_, and also why he had laid the command upon them not to talk while he slept. After talking over all these things, then the chief fully decided to go to Hawaii to see Laieikawai. At this time they began to talk about getting Laieikawai for a wife. At the close of the rough season and the coming of good weather for sailing, the counsellor ordered the chief's sailing masters to make the double canoe ready to sail for Hawaii that very night; and at the same time he appointed the best paddlers out of the chief's personal attendants. Before the going down of the sun the steersmen and soothsayers were ordered to observe the look of the clouds and the ocean to see whether the chief could go or not on his journey, according to the signs. And the steersmen as well as soothsayers saw plainly that he might go on his journey. And in the early morning at the rising of the canoe-steering star the chief went on board with his counsellor and his sixteen paddlers and two steersmen, twenty of them altogether in the double canoe, and set sail. As they sailed, they came first to Nanakuli at Waianae. In the early morning they left this place and went first to Mokapu and stayed there ten days, for they were delayed by a storm and could not go to Molokai. After ten days they saw that it was calm to seaward. That night and the next day they sailed to Polihua, on Lanai, and from there to Ukumehame, and as the wind was unfavorable, remained there, and the next day left that place and went to Kipahulu. At Kipahulu the chief said he would go along the coast afoot and the men by boat. Now, wherever they went the people applauded the beauty of Aiwohikupua. They left Kipahulu and went to Hana, the chief and his counsellor by land, the men by canoe. On the way a crowd followed them for admiration of Aiwohikupua. When they reached the canoe landing at Haneoo at Hana the people crowded to behold the chief, because of his exceeding beauty. When the party reached there the men and women were out surf riding in the waves of Puhele, and among them was one noted princess of Hana, Hinaikamalama by name. When they saw the princess of Hana, the chief and his counsellor conceived a passion for her; that was the reason why Aiwohikupua stayed there that day. When the people of the place had ended surfing and Hinaikamalama rode her last breaker, as she came in, the princess pointed her board straight at the stream of Kumaka where Aiwohikupua and his companion had stopped. While the princess was bathing in the water of Kumaka the chief and his counsellor desired her, so the chief's counsellor pinched Aiwohikupua quietly to withdraw from the place where Hinaikamalama was bathing, but their state of mind got them into trouble. When Aiwohikupua and his companion had put some distance between themselves and the princess's bathing place, the princess called, "O chiefs, why do you two run away? Why not throw off your garment, jump in, and join us, then go to the house and sleep? There is fish and a place to sleep. That is the wealth of the people of this place. When you wish to go, go; if you wish to stay, this is Hana, stay here." At these words of the princess the counsellor said to Aiwohikupua, "Ah! the princess would like you for her lover! for she has taken a great fancy to you." Said Aiwohikupua, "I should like to be her lover, for I see well that she is more beautiful than all the other women who have tempted me; but you have heard my vow not to take any woman of these islands to wife." At these words his counsellor said, "You are bound by that vow of yours; better, therefore, that this woman be mine." After this little parley, they went out surf riding and as they rode, behold! the princess conceived a passion for Aiwohikupua, and many others took a violent liking to the chief. After the bath, they returned to the canoe thinking to go aboard and set out, but Aiwohikupua saw the princess playing _konane_[24] and the stranger chief thought he would play a game with her; now, the princess had first called them to come and play. So Aiwohikupua joined the princess; they placed the pebbles on the board, and the princess asked, "What will the stranger stake if the game is lost to the woman of Hana?" Said Aiwohikupua, "I will stake my double canoe afloat here on the sea, that is my wager with you." Said the princess, "Your wager, stranger, is not well--a still lighter stake would be our persons; if I lose to you then I become yours and will do whatever you tell me just as we have agreed, and if you lose to me, then you are mine; as you would do to me, so shall I to you, and you shall dwell here on Maui." The chief readily agreed to the princess's words. In the first game, Aiwohikupua lost. Then said the princess, "I have won over you; you have nothing more to put up, unless it be your younger brother; in that case I will bet with you again." To this jesting offer of the princess, Aiwohikupua readily gave his word of assent. During the talk, Aiwohikupua gave to the princess this counsel. "Although I belong to you, and this is well, yet let us not at once become lovers, not until I return from my journey about Hawaii; for I vowed before sailing hither to know no woman until I had made the circuit of Hawaii; after that I will do what you please as we have agreed. So I lay my command upon you before I go, to live in complete purity, not to consent to any others, not to do the least thing to disturb our compact; and when I return from sight-seeing, then the princess's stake shall be paid. If when I return you have not remained pure, not obeyed my commands, then there is an end of it." Now, this was not Aiwohikupua's real intention. After laying his commands upon Hinaikamalama, they left Maui and went to Kapakai at Kohala. The next day they left Kapakai and sailed along by Kauhola, and Aiwohikupua saw a crowd of men gathering mountainward of Kapaau. Then Aiwohikupua ordered the boatmen to paddle inshore, for he wanted to see why the crowd was gathering. When they had come close in to the landing at Kauhola the chief asked why the crowd was gathering; then a native of the place said they were coming together for a boxing match. At once Aiwohikupua trembled with eagerness to go and see the boxing match; they made the canoe fast, and Aiwohikupua, with his counsellor and the two steersmen, four in number, went ashore. When they came to Hinakahua, where the field was cleared for boxing, the crowd saw that the youth from Kauai surpassed in beauty all the natives of the place, and they raised a tumult. After the excitement the boxing field again settled into order; then Aiwohikupua leaned against the trunk of a _milo_ tree to watch the attack begin. As Aiwohikupua stood there, Cold-nose entered the open space and stood in the midst to show himself off to the crowd, and he called out in a loud voice: "What man on that side will come and box?" But no one dared to come and stand before Cold-nose, for the fellow was the strongest boxer in Kohala. As Cold-nose showed himself off he turned and saw Aiwohikupua and called out, "How are you, stranger? Will you have some fun?" When Aiwohikupua heard the voice of Cold-nose calling him, he came forward and stood in front of the boxing field while he bound his red loin cloth[25] about him in the fashion of a chief's bodyguard, and he answered his opponent: "O native born, you have asked me to have some fun with you, and this is what I ask of you: Take two on your side with you, three of you together, to satisfy the stranger." When Cold-nose heard Aiwohikupua, he said, "You are the greatest boaster in the crowd![26] I am the best man here, and yet you talk of three from this side; and what are you compared to me?" Answered Aiwohikupua, "I will not accept the challenge without others on your side, and what are you compared to me! Now, I promise you, I can turn this crowd into nothing with one hand." At Aiwohikupua's words, one of Cold-nose's backers came up behind Aiwohikupua and said: "Here! do not speak to Cold-nose; he is the best man in Kohala; the heavy weights of Kohala can not master that man."[27] Then Aiwohikupua turned and gave the man at his back a push, and he fell down dead.[28] CHAPTER V When all the players on the boxing field saw how strong Aiwohikupua was to kill the man with just a push; Then Cold-nose's backers went to him and said: "Here, Cold-nose, I see pretty plainly now our side will never get the best of it; I am sure that the stranger will beat us, for you see how our man was killed by just a push from his hand; when he gives a real blow the man will fly into bits. Now, I advise you to dismiss the contestants and put an end to the game and stop challenging the stranger. So, you go up to the stranger and shake hands,[29] you two, and welcome him, to let the people see that the fight is altogether hushed up." These words roused Cold-nose to hot wrath and he said: "Here! you backers of mine, don't be afraid, don't get frightened because that man of ours was killed by a push from his hand. Didn't I do the same thing here some days ago? Then what are you afraid of? And now I tell you if you fear the stranger, then hide your eyes in the blue sky. When you hear that Cold-nose has conquered, then remember my blow called _The-end-that-sang_, the fruit of the tree which you have never tasted, the master's stroke which you have never learned. By this sign I know that he will never get the better of me, the end of my girdle sang to-day."[30] At these words of Cold-nose his supporters said, "Where are you! We say no more; there is nothing left to do; we are silent before the fruit of this tree of yours which you say we have never tasted, and you say, too, that the end of your girdle has sung; maybe you will win through your girdle!" Then his backers moved away from the crowd. While Cold-nose was boasting to his backers how he would overcome Aiwohikupua, then Aiwohikupua moved up and cocked his eye at Cold-nose, flapped with his arms against his side like a cock getting ready to crow, and said to Cold-nose, "Here, Cold-nose! strike me right in the stomach, four time four blows!" When Cold-nose heard Aiwohikupua's boasting challenge to strike, then he glanced around the crowd and saw someone holding a very little child; then said Cold-nose to Aiwohikupua, "I am not the man to strike you; that little youngster there, let him strike you and let him be your opponent." These words enraged Aiwohikupua. Then a flush rose all over his body as if he had been dipped in the blood of a lamb.[31] He turned right to the crowd and said, "Who will dare to defy the Kauai boy, for I say to him, my god can give me victory over this man, and my god will deliver the head of this mighty one to be a plaything for my paddlers." Then Aiwohikupua knelt down and prayed to his gods as follows: "O you Heavens, Lightning, and Rain, O Air, O Thunder and Earthquake! Look upon me this day, the only child of yours left upon this earth. Give this day all your strength unto your child; by your might turn aside his fists from smiting your child, and I beseech you to give me the head of Ihuanu into my hand to be a plaything for my paddlers, that all this assembly may see that I have power over this uncircumcised[32] one. Amen."[33] At the close of this prayer Aiwohikupua stood up with confident face and asked Cold-nose, "Are you ready yet to strike me?" Cold-nose answered, "I am not ready to strike you; you strike me first!" When Cold-nose's master heard these words he went to Cold-nose's side and said, "You are foolish, my pupil. If he orders you forward again then deliver the strongest blow you can give, for when he gives you the order to strike he himself begins the fight." So Cold-nose was satisfied. After this, Aiwohikupua again asked Cold-nose, "Are you ready yet to strike me? Strike my face, if you want to!" Then Cold-nose instantly delivered a blow like the whiz of the wind at Aiwohikupua's face, but Aiwohikupua dodged and he missed it. As the blow missed, Aiwohikupua instantly sent his blow, struck right on the chest and pierced to his back; then Aiwohikupua lifted the man on his arm and swung him to and fro before the crowd, and threw him outside the field, and Aiwohikupua overcame Cold-nose, and all who looked on shouted. When Cold-nose was dead his supporters came to where he was lying, those who had warned him to end the fight, and cried, "Aha! Cold-nose, could the fruit we have never tasted save you? Will you fight a second time with that man of might?" These were the scornful words of his supporters. As the host were crowding about the dead body of their champion and wailing, Aiwohikupua came and cut off Cold-nose's head with the man's own war club[34] and threw it contemptuously to his followers; thus was his prayer fulfilled. This ended, Aiwohikupua left the company, got aboard the canoe, and departed; and the report of the deed spread through Kohala, Hamakua, and all around Hawaii. They sailed and touched at Honokaape at Waipio, then came off Paauhau and saw a cloud of dust rising landward. Aiwohikupua asked his counsellor, "Why is that crowd gathering on land? Perhaps it is a boxing match; let us go again to look on!" His counsellor answered, "Break off that notion, for we are not taking this journey for boxing contests, but to seek a wife." Said Aiwohikupua to his counsellor, "Call to the steersman to turn the canoe straight ashore to hear what the crowd is for." The chief's wish was obeyed, they went alongside the cliff and asked the women gathering shellfish, "What is that crowd inland for?" The women answered, "They are standing up to a boxing match, and whoever is the strongest, he will be sent to box with the Kauai man who fought here with Cold-nose and killed Cold-nose; that is what all the shouting is about." So Aiwohikupua instantly gave orders to anchor the canoe, and Aiwohikupua landed with his counsellor and the two steersmen, and they went up to the boxing match; there they stood at a distance watching the people. Then came one of the natives of the place to where they stood and Aiwohikupua asked what the people were doing, and the man answered as the women had said. Aiwohikupua said to the man, "You go and say I am a fellow to have some fun with the boxers, but not with anyone who is not strong." The man answered, "Haunaka is the only strong one in this crowd, and he is to be sent to Kohala to fight with the Kauai man." Said Aiwohikupua, "Go ahead and tell Haunaka that we two will have some fun together." When the man found Haunaka, and Haunaka heard these words, he clapped his hands, struck his chest, and stamped his feet, and beckoned to Aiwohikupua to come inside the field, and Aiwohikupua came, took off his cape,[35] and bound it about his waist. When Aiwohikupua was on the field he said to Haunaka, "You can never hurt the Kauai boy; he is a choice branch of the tree that stands upon the steep."[36] As Aiwohikupua was speaking a man called out from outside the crowd, who had seen Aiwohikupua fighting with Cold-nose, "O Haunaka and all of you gathered here, you will never outdo this man; his fist is like a spear! Only one blow at Cold-nose and the fist went through to his back. This is the very man who killed Cold-nose." Then Haunaka seized Aiwohikupua's hand and welcomed him, and the end of it was they made friends and the players mixed with the crowd, and they left the place; Aiwohikupua's party went with their friends and boarded the canoes, and went on and landed at Laupahoehoe. CHAPTER VI In Chapter V of this story we have seen how Aiwohikupua got to Laupahoehoe. Here we shall say a word about Hulumaniani, the seer who followed Laieikawai hither from Kauai, as described in the first chapter of this story. On the day when Aiwohikupua's party left Paauhau, at Hamakua, on the same day as he sailed and came to Laupahoehoe, the prophet foresaw it all on the evening before he arrived, and it happened thus: That evening before sunset, as the seer was sitting at the door of the house, he saw long clouds standing against the horizon where the signs in the clouds appear, according to the soothsayers of old days even until now. Said the seer, "A chief's canoe comes hither, 19 men, 1 high chief, a double canoe." The men sitting with the chief started up at once, but could see no canoe coming. Then the people with him asked, "Where is the canoe which you said was a chief's canoe coming?" Said the prophet, "Not a real canoe; in the clouds I find it; to-morrow you will see the chief's canoe." A night and a day passed; toward evening he again saw the cloud rise on the ocean in the form which the seer recognized as Aiwohikupua's--perhaps as we recognize the crown of any chief that comes to us, so Aiwohikupua's cloud sign looked to the seer. When the prophet saw that sign he arose and caught a little pig and a black cock, and pulled a bundle of _awa_ root to prepare for Aiwohikupua's coming. The people wondered at his action and asked, "Are you going away that you make these things ready?" The seer said, "I am making ready for my chief, Aiwohikupua; he is the one I told you about last evening; for he comes hither over the ocean, his sign is on the ocean, and his mist covers it." As Aiwohikupua's party drew near to the harbor of Laupahoehoe, 20 peals of thunder sounded, the people of Hilo crowded together, and as soon as it was quiet all saw the double canoe coming to land carrying above it the taboo sign[37] of a chief. Then the seer's prediction was fulfilled. When the canoe came to land the seer was standing at the landing; he advanced from Kaiwilahilahi, threw the pig before the chief, and prayed in the name of the gods of Aiwohikupua, and this was his prayer: "O Heavens, Lightning, and Rain; O Air, Thunder, and Earthquake; O gods of my chief, my beloved, my sacred taboo chief, who will bury these bones! Here is a pig, a black cock, _awa_, a priest, a sacrifice, an offering to the chief from your servant here; look upon your servant, Hulumaniani; bring to him life, a great life, a long life, to live forever, until the staff rings as he walks, until he is dragged upon a mat, until the eyes are dim.[38] Amen, it is finished, flown away." As the chief listened to the prophet's prayer, Aiwohikupua recognized his own prophet, and his heart yearned with love toward him; for he had been gone a long while; he could not tell how long it was since he had seen him. As soon as the prayer was ended, Aiwohikupua commanded his counsellor to "present the seer's gifts to the gods." Instantly the seer ran and clasped the chief's feet and climbed upward to his neck and wept, and Aiwohikupua hugged his servant's shoulders and wailed out his virtues. After the wailing the chief asked his servant: "Why are you living here, and how long have you been gone?" The servant told him all that we have read about in former chapters. When the seer had told the business on which he had come and his reason for it, that was enough. Then it was the seer's turn to question Aiwohikupua, but the chief told only half the story, saying that he was on a sight-seeing tour. The chief stayed with the seer that night until at daybreak they made ready the canoe and sailed. They left Laupahoehoe and got off Makahanaloa when one of the men, the one who is called the counsellor, saw the rainbow arching over Paliuli. He said to the chief: "Look! Where are you! See that rainbow arch? Laieikawai is there, the one whom you want to find and there is where I found her." Said Aiwohikupua: "I do not think Laieikawai is there; that is not her rainbow, for rainbows are common to all rainy places. But let us wait until it is pleasant and see whether the rainbow is there then; then we shall know it is her sign." At the chief's proposal they anchored their canoes in the sea, and Aiwohikupua went up with his counsellor to Kukululaumania to the houses of the natives of the place and stayed there waiting for pleasant weather. After four days it cleared over Hilo; the whole country was plainly visible, and Panaewa lay bare. On this fourth day in the early morning Aiwohikupua awoke and went out of the house, lo! the rainbow arching where they had seen it before; long the chief waited until the sun came, then he went in and aroused his counsellor and said to him: "Here! perhaps you were right; I myself rose early while it was still dark, and went outside and actually saw the rainbow arching in the place you had pointed out to me, and I waited until sunrise--still the rainbow! And I came in to awaken you." The man said: "That is what I told you; if we had gone we should have been staying up there in Paliuli all these days where she is." That morning they left Makahanaloa and sailed out to the harbor of Keaau. They sailed until evening, made shore at Keaau and saw Kauakahialii's houses standing there and the people of the place out surf riding. When they arrived, the people of the place admired Aiwohikupua as much as ever. The strangers remained at Keaau until evening, then Aiwohikupua ordered the steersmen and rowers to stay quietly until the two of them returned from their search for a wife, only they two alone. At sunset Aiwohikupua caught up his feather cloak and gave it to the other to carry, and they ascended. They made way with difficulty through high forest trees and thickets of tangled brush, until, at a place close to Paliuli, they heard the crow of a cock. The man said to his chief: "We are almost out." They went on climbing, and heard a second time the cock crow (the cock's second crow this). They went on climbing until a great light shone. The man said to his chief, "Here! we are out; there is Laieikawai's grandmother calling together the chickens as usual."[39] Asked Aiwohikupua, "Where is the princess's house?" Said the man, "When we get well out of the garden patch here, then we can see the house clearly." When Aiwohikupua saw that they were approaching Laieikawai's house, he asked for the feather cloak to hold in his hand when they met the princess of Paliuli. The garden patch passed, they beheld Laieikawai's house covered with the yellow feathers of the _oo_ bird, as the seer had seen in his vision from the god on Kauwiki. When Aiwohikupua saw the house of the princess of Paliuli, he felt strangely perplexed and abashed, and for the first time he felt doubtful of his success. And by reason of this doubt within him he said to his companion, "Where are you? We have come boldly after my wife. I supposed her just an ordinary woman. Not so! The princess's house has no equal for workmanship; therefore, let us return without making ourselves known." Said his counsellor, "This is strange, after we have reached the woman's house for whom we have swum eight seas, here you are begging to go back. Let us go and make her acquaintance, whether for failure or success; for, even if she should refuse, keep at it; we men must expect to meet such rebuffs; a canoe will break on a coral reef."[40] "Where are you?" answered Aiwohikupua. "We will not meet the princess, and we shall certainly not win her, for I see now the house is no ordinary one. I have brought my cloak wrought with feathers for a gift to the princess of Paliuli and I behold them here as thatch for the princess's house; yet you know, for that matter, even a cloak of feathers is owned by none but the highest chiefs; so let us return." And they went back without making themselves known. CHAPTER VII When Aiwohikupua and his companion had left Paliuli they returned and came to Keaau, made the canoe ready, and at the approach of day boarded the canoe and returned to Kauai. On the way back Aiwohikupua would not say why he was returning until they reached Kauai; then, for the first time, his counsellor knew the reason. On the way from Keaau they rested at Kamaee, on the rocky side of Hilo, and the next day left there, went to Humuula on the boundary between Hilo and Hamakua; now the seer saw Aiwohikupua sailing over the ocean. After passing Humuula they stopped right off Kealakaha, and while the chief slept they saw a woman sitting on the sea cliff by the shore. When those on board saw the woman they shouted, "Oh! what a beautiful woman!" At this Aiwohikupua started up and asked what they were shouting about. They said, "There is a beautiful woman sitting on the sea cliff." The chief turned his head to look, and saw that the stranger was, indeed, a charming woman. So the chief ordered the boatmen to row straight to the place where the woman was sitting, and as they approached they first encountered a man fishing with a line, and asked, "Who is that woman sitting up there on the bank directly above you?" He answered, "It is Poliahu, Cold-bosom.". As the chief had a great desire to see the woman, she was beckoned to; and she approached with her cloak all covered with snow and gave her greeting to Aiwohikupua, and he greeted her in return by shaking hands. After meeting the stranger, Aiwohikupua said, "O Poliahu, fair mistress of the coast, happily are we met here; and therefore, O princess of the cliff, I wish you to take me and try me for your husband, and I will be the servant under you; whatever commands you utter I will obey. If you consent to take me as I beseech you, then come on board the canoe and go to Kauai. Why not do so?" The woman answered, "I am not mistress of this coast. I come from inland; from the summit of that mountain, which is clothed in a white garment like this I am wearing; and how did you find out my name so quickly?" Said Aiwohikupua, "This is the first I knew about your coming from the White Mountain, but we found out your name readily from that fisherman yonder." "As to what the chief desires of me," said Poliahu, "I will take you for my husband; and now let me ask you, are you not the chief who stood up and vowed in the name of your gods not to take any woman of these islands from Hawaii to Kauai to wife--only a woman who comes from Moaulanuiakea? Are you not betrothed to Hinaikamalama, the famous princess of Hana? After this trip around Hawaii, then are you not returning for your marriage? And as to your wishing our union, I assure you, until you have made an end of your first vow it is not my part to take you, but yours to take me with you as you desire." At Poliahu's words Aiwohikupua marveled and was abashed; and after a while a little question escaped him: "How have you ever heard of these deeds of mine you tell of? It is true, Poliahu, all that you say; I have done as you have described; tell me who has told you." "No one has told me these things, O chief; I knew them for myself," said the princess; "for I was born, like you, with godlike powers, and, like you, my knowledge comes to me from the gods of my fathers, who inspire me; and through these gods I showed you what I have told you. As you were setting out at Humuula I saw your canoe, and so knew who you were." At these words Aiwohikupua knelt and did reverence to Poliahu and begged to become Poliahu's betrothed and asked her to go with him to Kauai. "We shall not go together to Kauai," said the woman, "but I will go on board with you to Kohala, then I will return, while you go on." Now, the chiefs met and conversed on the deck of the canoe. Before setting out the woman said to Aiwohikupua and his companion, "We sail together; let me be alone, apart from you two, fix bounds between us. You must not touch me, I will not touch you until we reach Kohala; let us remain under a sacred taboo;" and this request pleased them. As they sailed and came to Kohala they did not touch each other. They reached Kohala, and on the day when Aiwohikupua's party left, Poliahu took her garment of snow and gave it to Aiwohikupua, saying, "Here is my snow mantle, the mantle my parents strictly forbade my giving to anyone else; it was to be for myself alone; but as we are betrothed, you to me and I to you, therefore I give away this mantle until the day when you remember our vows, then you must seek me, and you will find me above on the White Mountain; show it to me there, then we shall be united." When Aiwohikupua heard these things the chief's heart was glad, and his counsellor and the paddlers with him. Then Aiwohikupua took out his feather cloak, brought it and threw it over Poliahu with the words, "As you have said to me before giving me the snow mantle, so do you guard this until our promised union." When their talk was ended, at the approach of day, they parted from the woman of the mountain and sailed and came to Hana and met Hinaikamalama. CHAPTER VIII When Aiwohikupua reached Hana, after parting with Poliahu at Kohala, his boat approached the canoe landing at Haneoo, where they had been before, where Hinaikamalama was living. When Aiwohikupua reached the landing the canoe floated on the water; and as it floated there Hinaikamalama saw that it was Aiwohikupua's canoe; joyful was she with the thought of their meeting; but still the boat floated gently on the water. Hinaikamalama came thither where Aiwohikupua and his men floated. Said the woman, "This is strange! What is all this that the canoe is kept afloat? Joyous was I at the sight of you, believing you were coming to land. Not so! Now, tell me, shall you float there until you leave?" "Yes," answered Aiwohikupua. "You can not," said the woman, "for I will order the executioner to hold you fast; you became mine at _konane_ and our vows are spoken, and I have lived apart and undefiled until your return." "O princess, not so!" said Aiwohikupua. "It is not to end our vow--that still holds; but the time has not come for its fulfillment. For I said to you, 'When I have sailed about Hawaii then the princess's bet shall be paid;' now, I went meaning to sail about Hawaii, but did not; still at Hilo I got a message from Kauai that the family was in trouble at home, so I turned back; I have stopped in here to tell you all this; and therefore, live apart, and on my next return our vow shall be fulfilled." At these words of Aiwohikupua the princess's faith returned. After this they left Hana and sailed and came to Oahu, and on the sea halfway between Oahu and Kauai he laid his command upon the oarsmen and the steersmen, as follows: "Where are you? I charge you, when you come to Kauai, do not say that you have been to Hawaii to seek a wife lest I be shamed; if this is heard about, it will be heard through you, and the penalty to anyone who tells of the journey to Hawaii, it is death, death to himself, death to his wife, death to all his friends; this is the debt he shall pay." This was the charge the chief laid upon the men who sailed with him to Hawaii. Aiwohikupua reached Kauai at sunset and met his sisters. Then he spoke thus to his sisters: "Perhaps you wondered when I went on my journey, because I did not tell you my reason, not even the place where I was to go; and now I tell it to you in secret, my sisters, to you alone. To Hawaii I disappeared to fetch Laieikawai for my wife, after hearing Kauakahialii's story the day when his party returned here. But when I came there I did not get sight of the woman's face; I did not see Laieikawai, but my eyes beheld her house thatched with the yellow feathers of the _oo_ bird, so I thought I could not win her and came back here unsuccessful. And as I thought of my failure, then I thought of you sisters,[41] who have won my wishes for me in the days gone by; therefore I came for you to go to Hawaii, the very ones to win what I wish, and at dawn let us rise up and go." Then they were pleased with their brother's words to them. As Aiwohikupua talked with his sisters, his counsellor for the first time understood the reason for their return to Kauai. The next day Aiwohikupua picked out fresh paddlers, for the chief knew that the first were tired out. When all was ready for sailing, that very night the chief took on board 14 paddlers, 2 steersmen, the 5 sisters, Mailehaiwale, Mailekaluhea, Mailelaulii, Mailepakaha, and the youngest, Kahalaomapuana, the chief himself, and his counsellor, 23 in all. That night, at the approach of day, they left Kauai, came to Puuloa, and there rested at Hanauma; the next day they lay off Molokai at Kaunakakai, from there they went ashore at Mala at Lahaina; and they left the place, went to Keoneoio in Honuaula, and there they stayed 30 days. For it was very rough weather on the ocean; when the rough weather was over, then there was good sailing. Then they left Honuaula and sailed and came to Kaelehuluhulu, at Kona, Hawaii. As Aiwohikupua's party were on the way from Maui thither, Poliahu knew of their setting sail and coming to Kaelehuluhulu. Then Poliahu made herself ready to come to wed Aiwohikupua; one month she waited for the promised meeting, but Aiwohikupua was at Hilo after Laieikawai. Then was revealed to Poliahu the knowledge of Aiwohikupua's doings; through her supernatural power she saw it all; so the woman laid it up in her mind until they should meet, then she showed what she saw Aiwohikupua doing. From Kaelehuluhulu, Aiwohikupua went direct to Keaau, but many days and nights the voyage lasted. At noon one day they came to Keaau, and after putting to rights the canoe and the baggage, the chief at once began urging his sisters and his counsellor to go up to Paliuli; and they readily assented to the chief's wish. Before going up to Paliuli, Aiwohikupua told the steersmen and the paddlers, "While we go on our way to seek her whom I have so longed to see face to face, do you remain here quietly, doing nothing but guard the canoes. If you wait until this night becomes day and day becomes night, then we prosper; but if we come back to-morrow early in the morning, then my wishes have failed, then face about and turn the course to Kauai;" so the chief ordered. After the chief's orders to the men they ascended half the night, reaching Paliuli. Said Aiwohikupua to the sisters: "This is Paliuli where Laieikawai is, your sister-in-law. See what you are worth." Then Aiwohikupua took Mailehaiwale, the first born; she stood right at the door of Laieikawai's house, and as she stood there she sent forth a fragrance which filled the house; and within was Laieikawai with her nurse fast asleep; but they could no longer sleep, because they were wakened by the scent of Mailehaiwale. And starting out of sleep, they two marveled what this wonderful fragrance could be, and because of this marvel Laieikawai cried out in a voice of delight to her grandmother: LAIEIKAWAI: "O Waka! O Waka--O!" WAKA: "Heigh-yo! why waken in the middle of the night?" LAIEIKAWAI: "A fragrance is here, a strange fragrance, a cool fragrance, a chilling fragrance; it goes to my heart." WAKA: "That is no strange fragrance; it is certainly Mailehaiwale, the sweet-smelling sister of Aiwohikupua, who has come to get you for his wife, you for the wife and he for the husband; here is the man for you to marry." LAIEIKAWAI: "Bah! I will not marry him."[42] When Aiwohikupua heard Laieikawai's refusal to take Aiwohikupua for her husband, then he was abashed, for they heard her refusal quite plainly. CHAPTER IX After this refusal, then Aiwohikupua said to his counsellor, "You and I will go home and let my sisters stay up here; as for them, let them live as they can, for they are worthless; they have failed to gain my wish." Said the counsellor, "This is very strange! I thought before we left Kauai you told me that your sisters were the only ones to get your wish, and you have seen now what one of them can do; you have ordered Mailehaiwale to do her part, and we have heard, too, the refusal of Laieikawai. Is this your sisters' fault, that we should go and leave them? But without her you have four sisters left; it may be one of them will succeed." Said Aiwohikupua, "If the first-born fails, the others perhaps will be worthless." His counsellor, spoke again, "My lord, have patience; let Mailekaluhea try her luck, and if she fails then we will go." Now, this saying pleased the chief; said Aiwohikupua, "Suppose you try your luck, and if you fail, all is over." Mailekaluhea went and stood at the door of the chief-house and gave out a perfume; the fragrance entered and touched the rafters within the house, from the rafters it reached Laieikawai and her companion; then they were startled from sleep. Said Laieikawai to her nurse, "This is a different perfume, not like the first, it is better than that; perhaps it comes from a man." The nurse said, "Call out to your grandmother to tell you the meaning of the fragrance." Laieikawai called: LAIEIKAWAI: "O Waka! O Waka--O!" WAKA: "Heigh-yo! why waken in the middle of the night?" LAIEIKAWAI: "Here is a fragrance, a strange fragrance, a cool fragrance, a chilling fragrance; it goes to my heart." WAKA. "That is no strange fragrance, it is Mailekaluhea, the sweet-smelling sister of Aiwohikupua, who has come to make you his wife to marry him." LAIEIKAWAI: "Bah! I will not marry him!" Said Aiwohikupua to his counsellor, "See! did you hear the princess's refusal?" "Yes, I heard it; what of her refusing! it is only their scent she does not like; perhaps she will yield to Mailelaulii." "You are persistent," said Aiwohikupua. "Did I not tell you I wanted to go back, but you refused--you would not consent!" "We have not tried all the sisters; two are out; three remain," said his counsellor. "Let all your sisters take a chance; this will be best; perhaps you are too hasty in going home; when you reach Keaau and say you have not succeeded, your other sisters will say: 'If you had let us try, Laieikawai would have consented;' so, then, they get something to talk about; let them all try." "Where are you, my counsellor!" said Aiwohikupua. "It is not you who bears the shame; I am the one. If the grandchild thought as Waka does all would be well." "Let us bear the shame," said his counsellor. "You know we men must expect such rebuffs; 'a canoe will break on a coral reef;' and if she should refuse, who will tell of it? We are the only ones to hear it. Let us try what Mailelaulii can do." And because the counsellor urged so strongly the chief gave his consent. Mailelaulii went right to the door of the chief-house; she gave out her perfume as the others had done; again Laieikawai was startled from sleep and said to her nurse, "This is an entirely different fragrance--not like those before." Said the nurse, "Call out to Waka." LAIEIKAWAI: "O Waka! O Waka--O!" WAKA: "Heigh-yo! Why waken in the middle of the night?" LAIEIKAWAI: "Here is a fragrance, a strange fragrance, a cool fragrance, a chilling fragrance; it goes to my heart." WAKA: "That is no strange fragrance; it is Mailelaulii, one of the sweet-smelling sisters of Aiwohikupua, who has come to get you for his wife; he is the husband, the husband for you to marry." LAIEIKAWAI: "Bah! I will not marry him!" "One refusal is enough," said Aiwohikupua, "without getting four more! You have brought this shame upon us both, my comrade." "Let us endure the shame," said his counsellor, "and if our sisters do not succeed, then I will go and enter the house and tell her to take you for her husband as you desire." Then the chief's heart rejoiced, for Kauakahialii had told him how this same man had got Laieikawai to come down to Keaau, so Aiwohikupua readily assented to his servant's plea. Then Aiwohikupua quickly ordered Mailepakaha to go and stand at the door of the chief-house; she gave forth her perfume, and Laieikawai was startled from sleep, and again smelled the fragrance. She said to her nurse, "Here is this fragrance again, sweeter than before." Said the nurse again, "Call Waka." LAIEIKAWAI: "O Waka! O Waka--O!" WAKA: "Heigh-yo! Why waken in the middle of the night?" LAIEIKAWAI: "Here is a fragrance, a strange fragrance, not like the others, a sweet fragrance, a pleasant fragrance; it goes to my heart." WAKA: "That is no strange fragrance; it is Mailepakaha, the sweet-smelling sister of Aiwohikupua, who has come to get you for a wife to marry him." LAIEIKAWAI: "Bah! I will not marry him! No matter who comes I will not sleep with him. Do not force Aiwohikupua on me again." When Aiwohikupua heard this fresh refusal from Laieikawai, his counsellor said, "My lord, it is useless! There is nothing more to be done except one thing; better put off trying the youngest sister and, if she is refused, my going myself, since we have heard her vehement refusal and the sharp chiding she gave her grandmother. And now I have only one thing to advise; it is for me to speak and for you to decide." "Advise away," said Aiwohikupua, "If it seems good, I will consent; but if not, I will refuse." "Let us go to the grandmother," said his counsellor, "and ask her; maybe we can get the consent from her." Said Aiwohikupua, "There is nothing left to be done; it is over; only one word more--our sisters, let them stay here in the jungle, for they are worthless." Then Aiwohikupua said to his sisters, "You are to stay here; my cherished hope has failed in bringing you here; the forest is your dwelling hereafter." It was then pretty near dawn. At Aiwohikupua's words all the sisters bowed their heads and wailed. When Aiwohikupua and his companion started to go, Kahalaomapuana, the youngest sister, called out, "O you two there! Wait! Had we known in Kauai that you were bringing us to leave us in this place, we would never have come. It is only fair that I, too, should have had a chance to win Laieikawai, and had I failed then you would have a right to leave me; we are all together, the guilty with the guiltless; you know me well, I have gained all your wishes." When Aiwohikupua heard his youngest sister, he felt himself to blame. Aiwohikupua called to his sister, "You shall come with me; your older sisters must stay here." "I will not go," answered the youngest sister, "unless we all go together, only then will I go home." CHAPTER X At these words of his youngest sister[43] Aiwohikupua said, "Stay here, then, with your sisters and go with them wherever you wish, but I am going home." Aiwohikupua turned to go, and as the two were still on the way, sang the song of Mailehaiwale, as follows: My divine brother, My heart's highest, Go and look Into the eyes of our parents, say We abide here, Fed upon the fruit of sin.[44] Is constancy perhaps a sin? Aiwohikupua turned and looked back at his younger sisters and said, "Constancy is not a sin; haven't I told you that I leave you because you are worthless? If you had gained for me my desire you would not have to stay here; that was what you were brought here for." The two turned and went on and did not listen to the sisters any longer. When Aiwohikupua and his companion had departed, the sisters conferred together and agreed to follow him, thinking he could be pacified. They descended and came to the coast at Keaau, where the canoe was making ready for sailing. At the landing the sisters sat waiting to be called; all had gone aboard the canoe, there was no summons at all, the party began to move off; then rang out the song of Mailekaluhea, as follows: My divine brother, My heart's highest--turn hither, Look upon your little sisters, Those who have followed you over the way, Over the high way, over the low way, In the rain with a pack on its back, Like one carrying a child, In the rain that roars in the hala trees, That roars in the hala trees of Hanalei. How is it with us? Why did you not leave us, Leave us at home, When you went on the journey? You will look, Look into the eyes, The eyes of our parents, Fare you well! While Mailekaluhea was singing not once did their brother compassionately look toward them, and the canoe having departed, the sisters sat conferring, then one of them, Kahalaomapuana, the youngest, began to speak. These were her words: "It is clear that our brother chief is not pacified by the entreaties of Mailehaiwale and Mailekaluhea. Let us, better, go by land to their landing place, then it will be Mailelaulii's turn to sing. It may be he will show affection for her." And they did as she advised. They left Keaau, came first to Punahoa, to a place called Kanoakapa, and sat down there until Aiwohikupua's party arrived. When Aiwohikupua and his companions had almost come to land where the sisters were sitting, Aiwohikupua suddenly called out to the paddlers and the steersmen, "Let us leave this harbor; those women have chased us all this way; we had better look for another landing place." As they left the sisters sitting there, Mailelaulii sang a song, as follows: My divine brother, My heart's highest, What is our great fault? The eyes of our chief are turned away in displeasure, The sound of chanting is forbidden, The chant of your little ones Of your little sisters. Have compassion upon us, Have compassion upon the comrades who have followed you, The comrades who climbed the cliffs of Haena, Crept over the cliff where the way was rugged, The rugged ladder-way up Nualolo The rough cliff-way up Makana, It is there--return hither, Give a kiss to your sisters, And go on your way, On the home journey--heartless. Farewell-to you, you shall look Look, in our native land, Into the eyes of our parents. Fare you well! As Aiwohikupua heard the sister's voice, they let the canoe float gently; then said Kahalaomapuana, "That is good for us; this is the only time they have let the canoe float; now we shall hear them calling to us, and go on board the canoe, then we shall be safe." After letting the canoe float a little while, the whole party turned and made off, and had not the least compassion. When they had left, the sisters consulted afresh what they should do. Kahalaomapuana gave her advice. She said to her sisters, "There are two of us left, I and Mailepakaha." Answered Mailepakaha, "He will have no compassion for me, for he had none on any of our sisters; it may be worse with me. I think you had better plead with him as you are the little one, it may be he will take pity on you." But the youngest would not consent; then they drew lots by pulling the flower stems of grass; the one who pulled the longest, she was the one to plead with the brother; now when they drew, the lot fell to Kahalaomapuana. When this was done, they left Punahoa, again followed their brother and came to Honolii, where Aiwohikupua's party had already arrived. Here they camped at some distance from Aiwohikupua's party, and Aiwohikupua's party from them. At Honolii that night they arranged that the others should sleep and a single one keep watch, and to this all consented. They kept watch according to age and gave the morning watch to the youngest. This was in order to see Aiwohikupua's start, for on their journey from Kauai the party had always set out at dawn. The sisters stood guard that night, until in Mailepakaha's watch Aiwohikupua's party made the canoes ready to start; she awakened the others, and all awoke together. As the sisters crouched there Kahalaomapuana's watch came, and the party boarded the canoe. The sisters followed down to the landing, and Kahalaomapuana ran and clung to the back of the canoe and called to them in song, as follows: Our brother and lord, Divine brother, Highest and closest! Where are you, oh! where? You and we, here and there, You, the voyager, We, the followers. Along the cliffs, swimming 'round the steeps, Bathing at Waihalau, Waihalau at Wailua; No longer are we beloved. Do you no longer love us? The comrades who followed you over the ocean, Over the great waves, the little waves, Over the long waves, the short waves, Over the long-backed waves of the ocean, Comrades who followed you inland, Far through the jungle, Through, the night, sacred and dreadful, Oh, turn back! Oh, turn back and have pity, Listen to my pleading, Me the littlest of your sisters. Why will you abandon, Abandon us In this desolation? You have opened the highway before us, After you we followed, We are known as your little sisters, Then forsake your anger, The wrath, the loveless heart, Give a kiss to your little ones, Fare you well! When, his youngest sister raised this lamentation to Aiwohikupua, then the brother's heart glowed with love and longing for his sister. And because of his great love for his little sister, he took her in his arms, set her on his lap, and wept. When Kahalaomapuana was in her brother's lap, Aiwohikupua ordered the canoemen to paddle with all their might; then the other sisters were left far behind and the canoe went ahead. As they went, Kahalaomapuana was troubled in mind for her sisters. Then Kahalaomapuana wept for her sisters and besought Aiwohikupua to restore her to her sisters; but Aiwohikupua would not take pity on her. "O Aiwohikupua," said his sister, "I will not let you take me by myself without taking my sisters with me, for you called me to you before when we were at Paliuli, but I would not consent to your taking me alone." And because of Aiwohikupua's stubbornness in refusing to let his sister go, then Kahalaomapuana jumped from the canoe into the sea. Then, for the last time she spoke to her brother in a song, as follows: You go home and look, Look into the eyes, Into the eyes of our parents. Love to our native land, My kindred and our friends, I am going back to your little sisters, To my older sisters I return. Chapter XI During this very last song of Kahalaomapuana's, Aiwohikupua's heart filled with love, and he called out for the canoe to back up, but Kahalaomapuana had been left far behind, so swiftly were the men paddling, and by the time the canoe had turned about to pick her up she was not to be found. Here we must leave Aiwohikupua for a little and tell about his sisters, then speak again about Aiwohikupua. When Aiwohikupua's party forsook his sisters at Honolii and took Kahalaomapuana with them, the girls mourned for love of their younger sister, for they loved Kahalaomapuana better than their parents or their native land. While they were still mourning Kahalaomapuana appeared by the cliff; then their sorrow was at an end. They crowded about their younger sister, and she told them what had happened to her and why she had returned, as has been told in the chapter before. After talking of all these things, they consulted together where they might best live, and agreed to go back to Paliuli. After their council they left Honolii and returned to the uplands of Paliuli, to a place near Laieikawai's house, and lived there inside of hollow trees. And because they wished so much to see Laieikawai they spied out for her from day to day, and after many days of spying they had not had the least sight of her, for every day the door was fast closed. So they consulted how to get sight of Laieikawai, and after seeking many days after some way to see the princess of Paliuli they found none. During this debate their younger sister did not speak, so one of her older sisters said, "Kahalaomapuana, all of us have tried to devise a way to see Laieikawai, but we have not found one; perhaps you have something in mind. Speak." "Yes" said, their younger sister, "let us burn a fire every night, and let the oldest sing, then the next, and so on until the last of us, only one of us sing each night, then I will come the last night; perhaps the fire burning every night will annoy the princess so she will come to find out about us, then perhaps we shall see Laieikawai." Kahalaomapuana's words pleased them. The next night they lighted the fire and Mailehaiwale sang that night, as they had agreed, and the next night Mailekaluhea; so they did every night, and the fourth night passed; but Laieikawai gave them no concern. The princess had, in fact, heard the singing and seen the fire burning constantly, but what was that to the princess! On the fifth night, Kahalaomapuana's night, the last night of all, they lighted the fire, and at midnight Kahalaomapuana made a trumpet of a _ti_ leaf[45] and played on it. Then for the first time Laieikawai felt pleasure in the music, but the princess paid no attention to it. And just before daylight Kahalaomapuana played again on her _ti_ leaf trumpet as before, then this delighted the princess. Only two times Kahalaomapuana blew on it that night. The second night Kahalaomapuana did the same thing again; she began early in the evening to play, but the princess took no notice. Just before daylight that night she played a second time. Then Laieikawai's sleep was disturbed, and this night she was even more delighted. And, her interest aroused, she sent her attendant to see where the musical instrument was which was played so near her. Then the princess's attendant went out of the door of the chief-house and saw the fire which the girls had lighted, crept along until she came to the place where the fire was, and stood at a distance where she was out of sight of those about the fire. And having seen, she returned to Laieikawai, and the princess inquired about it. The attendant told the princess what she had seen. "When I went outside the door of the house I saw a fire burning near, and I went and came and stood at a distance without being myself seen. There, behold! I saw five girls sitting around the fire, very beautiful girls; all looked alike, but one of them was very little and she was the one who played the sweet music that we heard." When the princess heard this she said to her attendant, "Go and get the smallest of them, tell her to come here and amuse us." At these words of the princess, the nurse went and came to the place where the sisters were and they saw her, and she said, "I am a messenger sent hither by my chief to fetch whichever one of you I want to take; so I take the smallest of you to go and visit my princess as she has commanded." When Kahalaomapuana was carried away, the hearts of the sisters sang for joy, for they thought to win fortune thereafter. And their sister went into the presence of Laieikawai. When they had come to the house, the attendant opened the door; then, Kahalaomapuana was terrified to see Laieikawai resting on the wings of birds as was her custom; two scarlet _iiwi_ birds were perched on the shoulders of the princess and shook the dew from red _lehua_ blossoms upon her head. And when Kahalaomapuana saw this, then it seemed marvelous to the stranger girl, and she fell to the ground with trembling heart. The princess's attendant came and asked, "What is the matter, daughter?" And twice she asked, then the girl arose and said to the princess's attendant as follows: "Permit me to return to my sisters, to the place from which you took me, for I tremble with fear at the marvelous nature of your princess." Said the princess's attendant, "Do not fear, have no dread, arise and enter to meet my princess as she has commanded you." "I am afraid," said the girl. When the princess heard their low voices, she arose and called to Kahalaomapuana; then the girl's distress was at an end, and the stranger entered to visit the princess. Said Laieikawai, "Is the merry instrument yours that sounded here last night and this?" "Yes; it is mine," said Kahalaomapuana. "Go on," said Laieikawai, "play it." Kahalaomapuana took her _ti_ leaf trumpet from behind her ear, and played before the princess; then Laieikawai was delighted. This was the first time the princess had seen this kind of instrument. CHAPTER XII Now, Laieikawai became fascinated with the merry instrument upon which the girl played, so she bade her sound it again. Said the girl, "I can not sound it again, for it is now daylight, and this instrument is a kind that sounds only by night; it will never sound by day." Laieikawai was surprised at these words, thinking the girl was lying. So she snatched the trumpet out of the girl's hand and played upon it, and because she was unpracticed in playing the trumpet the thing made no sound; then the princess believed that the trumpet would not sound by day. Said Laieikawai to Kahalapmapuana, "Let us two be friends, and you shall live here in my house and become my favorite, and your work will be to amuse me." Said Kahalaomapuana, "O princess, you have spoken well; but it would grieve me to live with you and perhaps gain happiness for myself while my sisters might be suffering." "How many of you are there?" asked Laieikawai, "and how did you come here?" Said Kahalaomapuana, "There are six of us born of the same parents; one of the six is a boy and five of us are his younger sisters, and the boy is the oldest, and I am the youngest born. And we journeyed hither with our brother, and because we failed to gain for him his wish, therefore he has abandoned us and has gone back with his favorite companion, and we live here in distress." Laieikawai asked, "Where do you come from?" "From Kauai," answered Kahalaomapuana. "And what is your brother's name?" "Aiwohikupua," replied the girl. Again Laieikawai asked, "What are the names of each of you?" Then she told them all. Then Laieikawai understood that these were the persons who came that first night. Said Laieikawai, "Your sisters and your brother I know well, if it was really you who came to me that night; but you I did not hear." "Yes; we were the ones," said Kahalaomapuana. Said Laieikawai, "If you were the ones who came that night, who guided you here? For the place is unfrequented, not a single person comes here." The girl said, "We had a native of the place to guide us, the same man who spoke to you in behalf of Kauakahialii." Then it was clear he was a fellow countryman of theirs. The end of all this talk was that Laieikawai bade her grandmother to prepare a house for the sisters of Aiwohikupua. Then, through the supernatural power of her grandmother, Waka, the matter was quickly dispatched, the house was made ready. When the house was prepared Laieikawai gave orders to Kahalaomapuana: "You return, and to-night come here with all your sisters; when I have seen them then you shall play to us on your merry instrument." When Kahalaomapuana rejoined her sisters they asked what she had done--what kind of interview she had had with the princess. Answered the girl, "When I reached the door of the palace a hunchback opened the door to receive me, and when I saw the princess resting on the wings of birds, at the sight I trembled with fear and fell down to the earth. For this reason when I was taken in to talk with the princess I did just what she wished, and she asked about us and I told her everything. The result is, fortune is ours; she has commanded us all to go to her to-night." When they heard this the sisters were joyful. At the time the princess had directed they left the hollow tree where they had lived as fugitives. They went and stood at the door of the chief-house. Laieikawai's attendant opened the door, and they saw just what their sister had described to them. But when they actually saw Laieikawai, then they were filled with dread, and all except Kahalaomapuana ran trembling with fear and fell to the ground. And at the princess's command the strangers were brought into the presence of the princess, and the princess was pleased with them. And at this interview with the princess she promised them her protection, as follows: "I have heard from your younger sister that you are all of the same parentage and the same blood; therefore I shall treat you all as one blood with me, and we shall protect each other. Whatever one says, the others shall do. Whatever trouble comes to one, the others shall share; and for this reason I have asked our grandmother to furnish you a home where you may live virgin like myself, no one taking a husband without the others' consent. So shall it be well with us from this time on."[46] To these conditions the stranger girls agreed; the younger sister answered the princess for them all: "O princess, we are happy that you receive us; happy, too, that you take us to be your sisters as you have said; and so we obey. Only one thing we ask of you: All of us sisters have been set apart by our parents to take no delight in men; and it is their wish that we remain virgin until the end of our days; and so we, your servants, beseech you not to defile us with any man, according to the princess's pleasure, but to allow us to live virgin according to our parents' vow." And this request of the strangers seemed good to the princess. After talking with the princess concerning all these things, they were dismissed to the house prepared for them. As soon as the girls went to live in the house they consulted how they should obey the princess's commands, and they appointed their younger sister to speak to the princess about what they had agreed upon. One afternoon, just as the princess woke from sleep, came Kahalaomapuana to amuse the princess by playing on the trumpet until the princess wished it no longer. Then she told Laieikawai what the sisters had agreed upon and said, "O princess, we have consulted together how to protect you, and all five of us have agreed to become the bodyguard for your house; ours shall be the consent, ours the refusal. If anyone wishes to see you, be he a man, or maybe a woman, or even a chief, he shall not see you without our approval. Therefore I pray the princess to consent to what we have agreed." Said Laieikawai, "I consent to your agreement, and yours shall be the guardianship over all the land of Paliuli." Now the girls' main purpose in becoming guardians of Paliuli was, if Aiwohikupua should again enter Paliuli, to have power to bar their enemy. Thus they dwelt in Paliuli, and while they dwelt there never did they weary of life. Never did they even see the person who prepared them food, nor the food itself, save when, at mealtimes, the birds brought them food and cleared away the remnants when they had done. So Paliuli became to them a land beloved, and there they dwelt until the trouble came upon them which was wrought by Halaaniani. Here, O reader, we leave speaking of the sisters of Aiwohikupua, and in Chapter XIII of this tale will speak again of Aiwohikupua and his coming to Kauai. CHAPTER XIII At the time when Kahalaomapuana leaped from the canoe into the sea it was going very swiftly, so she fell far behind. The canoe turned back to recover Kahalaomapuana, but the party did not find her; then Aiwohikupua abandoned his young sister and sailed straight for Kauai. As Aiwohikupua sailed away from Hawaii, between Oahu and Kauai he spoke to his paddlers as follows: "When we get back to Kauai let no one tell that we have been to Hawaii after Laieikawai, lest shame come to me and I be spoken of jeeringly; and therefore I lay my commands upon you. Whoever speaks of this journey of ours and I hear of it, his penalty is death, his and all his offspring, as I vowed to those paddlers of mine before." They returned to Kauai. A few days afterwards Aiwohikupua, the chief, wished to make a feast for the chiefs and for all his friends on Kauai. While the feast was being made ready the chief gave word to fetch the feasters; with all the male chiefs, only one woman of rank was allowed to come to the celebration; this was Kailiokalauokekoa.[47] On the day of the feast all the guests assembled, the food was ready spread, and the drink at the feast was the _awa_. Before eating, all the guests together took up their cups of _awa_ and drank. During the feasting, the _awa_ had not the least effect upon them. And because the _awa_ had no effect, the chief hastily urged his _awa_ chewers to chew the _awa_ a second time. When the chief's command was carried out, the guests and the chief himself took up their cups of _awa_ all together and drank. When this cup of _awa_ was drained the effect of the _awa_ overcame them. But the one who felt the effects most was the chief who gave the feast. Now, while the chief was drunk, the oath which he swore at sea to the rowers was not forgotten; not from one of his own men was the forbidden story told, but from the mouth of Aiwohikupua himself was the chief's secret heard. While under the influence of the _awa_, Aiwohikupua turned right around upon Kauakahialii, who was sitting near, and said: "O Kauakahialii, when you were talking to us about Laieikawai, straightway there entered into me desire after that woman; then sleepless were my nights with the wish, to see her; so I sailed and came to Hawaii, two of us went up, until at daylight we reached the uplands of Paliuli; when I went to see the chief's house, it was very beautiful, I was ashamed; therefore I returned here. I returned, in fact, thinking that the little sisters were the ones to get my wish; I fetched them, made the journey with the girls to the house of the princess, let them do their best; when, as it happened, they were all refused, all four sisters except the youngest; for shame I returned. Surely that woman is the most stubborn of all, she has no equal." While Aiwohikupua talked of Laieikawai's stubbornness, Hauailiki was sitting at the feast, the young singer of Mana, a chief of high rank on the father's side and of unrivaled beauty. He arose and said to Aiwohikupua, "You managed the affair awkwardly. I do not believe her to be a stubborn woman; give me a chance to stand before her eyes; I should not have to speak, she would come of her own free will to meet me, then you would see us together." Said Aiwohikupua, "Hauailiki, I wish you would go to Hawaii; if you get Laieikawai, you are a lucky fellow, and I will send men with you and a double canoe; and should you lose in this journey then your lands become mine, and if you return with Laieikawai then all my lands are yours." After Aiwohikupua had finished speaking, that very night, Hauailiki boarded the double canoe and set sail, but many days passed on the journey. As they sailed they stood off Makahanaloa, and, looking out, saw the rainbow arching above the beach of Keaau. Said Aiwohikupua's chief counsellor to Hauailiki, "Look well at that rainbow arching the beach there at Keaau. There is Laieikawai watching the surf riding." Said Hauailiki, "I thought Paliuli was where she lived." And on the next day, in the afternoon, when they reached Keaau, Laieikawai had just returned with Aiwohikupua's sisters to Paliuli. When Hauailiki's party arrived, behold many persons came to see this youth who rivaled Kauakahialii and Aiwohikupua in beauty, and all the people of Keaau praised him exceedingly. Next day at sunrise the mist and fog covered all Keaau, and when it cleared, behold! seven girls were sitting at the landing place of Keaau, one of whom was more beautiful than the rest. This was the very first time that the sisters of Aiwohikupua had come down with Laieikawai, according to their compact. As Laieikawai and her companions were sitting there that morning, Hauailiki stood up and walked about before them, showing off his good looks to gain the notice of the princess of Paliuli. But what was Hauailiki to Laieikawai? Mere chaff! Four days Laieikawai came to Keaau after Hauailiki's entering the harbor; and four days Hauailiki showed himself off before Laieikawai, and she took no notice at all of him. On the fifth day of her coming, Hauailiki thought to display before the beloved one his skill with the surf board;[48] the truth is Hauailiki surpassed any one else on Kauai as an expert in surf riding, he surpassed all others in his day, and he was famous for this skill as well as for his good looks. That day, at daybreak, the natives of the place, men and women, were out in the breakers. While the people were gathering for surfing, Hauailiki undid his garment, got his surf board, of the kind made out of a thick piece of _wili-wili_ wood, went directly to the place where Laieikawai's party sat, and stood there for some minutes; then it was that the sisters of Aiwohikupua took a liking to Hauailiki. Said Mailehaiwale to Laieikawai, "If we had not been set apart by our parents, I would take Hauailiki for my husband." Said Laieikawai, "I like him, too; but I, too, have been set apart by my grandmother, so that my liking is useless." "We are all alike," said Mailehaiwale. When Hauailiki had showed himself off for some minutes, Hauailiki leaped with his surf board into the sea and swam out into the breakers. When Hauailiki was out in the surf, one of the girls called out, "Land now!" "Land away!" answered Hauailiki, for he did not wish to ride in on the same breaker with the crowd. He wished to make himself conspicuous on a separate breaker, in order that Laieikawai should see his skill in surf riding and maybe take a liking to him. Not so! When the others had gone in a little wave budded and swelled, then Hauailiki rode the wave. As he rode, the natives cheered and the sisters of Aiwohikupua also. What was that to Laieikawai? When Hauailiki heard the cheering, then he thought surely Laieikawai's voice would join the shouting. Not so! He kept on surfing until the fifth wave had passed; it was the same; he got no call whatever; then Hauailiki first felt discouragement, with the proof of Aiwohikupua's saying about the "stubbornness of Laieikawai." CHAPTER XIV When Hauailiki saw that Laieikawai still paid no attention to him he made up his mind to come in on the surf without the board. He left it and swam out to the breakers. As he was swimming Laieikawai said, "Hauailiki must be crazy." Her companions said, "Perhaps he will ride in on the surf without a board." When Hauailiki got to the breakers, just as the crest rose and broke at his back, he stood on its edge, the foam rose on each side of his neck like boars' tusks. Then all on shore shouted and for the first time Laieikawai smiled; the feat was new to her eyes and to her guardians also. When Hauailiki saw Laieikawai smiling to herself he thought she had taken a liking to him because of this feat, so he kept on repeating it until five breakers had come in; no summons came to him from Laieikawai. Then Hauailiki was heavy-hearted because Laieikawai took no notice of him, and he felt ashamed because of his boast to Aiwohikupua, as we have seen in the last chapter. So he floated gently on the waves, and as he floated the time drew near for Laieikawai's party to return to Paliuli. Then Laieikawai beckoned to Hauailiki. When Hauailiki saw the signal the burden was lifted from his mind; Hauailiki boasted to himself, "You wanted me all the time; you just delayed." And at the signal of the princess of Paliuli he lay upon the breaker and landed right where Laieikawai and her companions were sitting; then Laieikawai threw a _lehua_ wreath around Hauailiki's neck, as she always did for those who showed skill in surf riding. And soon after the mist and fog covered the land, and when it passed away nothing was to be seen of Laieikawai and her party; they were at Paliuli. This was the last time that Laieikawai's party came to Keaau while Hauailiki was there; after Hauailiki's return to Kauai, then Laieikawai came again to Keaau. After Laieikawai's party were gone to the uplands of Paliuli, Hauailiki left off surf riding and joined his guide, the chief counsellor of Aiwohikupua. Said he, "I think she is the only one who is impregnable; what, Aiwohikupua said is true. There is no luck in my beauty or my skill in surf riding; only one way is left, for us to foot it to Paliuli to-night." To this proposal of Hauailiki his comrade assented. In the afternoon, after dinner, the two went up inland and entered the forest where it was densely overgrown with underbrush. As they went on, they met Mailehaiwale, the princess's first guardian. When she saw them approaching from a distance, she cried, "O Hauailiki, you two go back from there, you two have no business to come up here, for I am the outpost of the princess's guards and it is my business to drive back all who come here; so turn back, you two, without delay." Said Hauailiki, "Just let us go take a look at the princess's house." Said Mailehaiwale, "I will not let you; for I am put here to drive off everybody who comes up here like you two." But because they urged her with such persuasive words, she did consent. As they went on, after Mailehaiwale let them pass, they soon encountered Mailekaluhea, the second of the princess's guardians. Said Mailekaluhea, "Here! you two go back, you two have no right to come up here. How did you get permission to pass here?" Said they, "We came to see the princess." "You two have no such right," said Mailekaluhea, "for we guards are stationed here to drive off everybody who comes to this place; so, you two go back." But to Mailekaluhea's command they answered so craftily with flattering words that they were allowed to pass. As the two went on they met Mailelaulii and with the same words they had used to the first, so they addressed Mailelaulii. And because of their great craft in persuasion, the two were allowed to pass Mailelaulii's front. And they went on, and met Mailepakaha, the fourth guardian. When they came before Mailepakaha this guardian was not at all pleased at their having been let slip by the first guards, but so crafty was their speech that they were allowed to pass. And they went on, and behold! they came upon Kahalaomapuana, the guardian at the door of the chief-house, who was resting on the wings of birds, and when they saw how strange was the workmanship of the chief-house, then Hauailiki fell to the earth with trembling heart. When Kahalaomapuana saw them she was angry, and she called out to them authoritatively, as the princess's war chief, "O Hauailiki! haste and go back, for you two have no business here; if you persist, then I will call hither the birds of Paliuli to eat your flesh; only your spirits will return to Kauai." At these terrible words of Kahalaomapuana, Hauailiki's courage entirely left him; he arose and ran swiftly until he reached Keaau in the early morning. For weariness of the journey up to Paliuli, they fell down and slept. While Hauailiki slept, Laieikawai came to him in a dream, and they met together; and on Hauailiki's starting from sleep, behold! it was a dream. Hauailiki slept again; again he had the dream as at first; four nights and four days the dream was repeated to Hauailiki, and his mind was troubled. On the fifth night after the dream had come to Hauailiki so repeatedly, after dark, he arose and ascended to the uplands of Paliuli without his comrade's knowledge. In going up, he did not follow the road the two had taken before, but close to Mailehaiwale he took a new path and escaped the eyes of the princess's guardians. When he got outside the chief-house Kahalaomapuana was fast asleep, so he tiptoed up secretly, unfastened the covering at the entrance to the house, which was wrought with feather work, and behold! he saw Laieikawai resting on the wings of birds, fast asleep also. When he had entered and stood where the princess was sleeping, he caught hold of the princess's head and shook her. Then Laieikawai started up from' sleep, and behold! Hauailiki standing at her head, and her mind was troubled. Then Laieikawai spoke softly to Hauailiki, "Go away now, for death and life have been left with my guardians, and therefore I pity you; arise and go; do not wait." Hauailiki said, "O Princess, let us kiss[49] one another, for a few nights ago I came up and got here without seeing you; we were driven away by the power of your guards, and on our reaching the coast, exhausted, I fell asleep; while I slept we two met together in a dream and we were united, and many days and nights the same dream came; therefore I have come up here again to fulfill what was done in the dream." Laieikawai said, "Return; what you say is no concern of mine; for the same thing has come to me in a dream and it happened to me as it happened to you, and what is that to me? Go! return!" As Kahalaomapuana slept, she heard low talking in the house, and she started up from sleep and called out, "O Laieikawai, who is the confidant who is whispering to you?" When she heard the questioner, Laieikawai ceased speaking. Soon Kahalaomapuana arose and entered the house, and behold! Hauailiki was in the house with Laieikawai. Kahalaomapuana said, "O Hauailiki, arise and go; you have no right to enter here; I told you before that you had no business in this place, and I say the same thing to-night as on that first night, so arise and return to the coast." And at these words of Kahalaomapuana Hauailiki arose with shame in his heart, and returned to the beach at Keaau and told his comrades about his journey to Paliuli. When Hauailiki saw that he had no further chance to win Laieikawai, then he made the canoe ready to go back to Kauai, and with the dawn left Keaau and sailed thither. When Hauailiki's party returned to Kauai and came to Wailua, he saw a great company of the high chiefs and low chiefs of the court, and Kauakahialii and Kailiokalauokekoa with them. As Hauailiki and his party were nearing the mouth of the river at Wailua, he saw Aiwohikupua and called out, "I have lost." When Hauailiki landed and told Aiwohikupua the story of his journey and how his sisters had become the princess's guardians, then Aiwohikupua rejoiced. He declared to Hauailiki, "There's an end to our bet, for it was made while we were drunk with _awa_." While Hauailiki was telling how Aiwohikupua's sisters had become guardians to Laieikawai, then Aiwohikupua conceived afresh the hope of sailing to Hawaii to get Laieikawai, as he had before desired. CHAPTER XV Said Aiwohikupua, "How fortunate I am to have left my sisters on Hawaii, and so I shall attain my desire, for I have heard that my sisters are guardians to the one on whom I have set my heart." Now, while all the chiefs were gathered at Wailua, then Aiwohikupua stood up and declared his intention in presence of the chiefs: "Where are you! I shall go again to Hawaii, I shall not fail of my desire; for my sisters are now guardians of her on whom I have set my heart." At these words of Aiwohikupua, Hauailiki said, "You will not succeed, for I saw that the princess was taboo, and your sisters also put on reserved airs; one of them, indeed, was furious, the smallest of them; so my belief is you will not succeed, and if you go near you will get paid for it." To Hauailiki's words Aiwohikupua paid no attention, for he was hopeful because of what he had heard of his sisters' guarding the princess. After this he summoned the bravest of his fighting men, his bodyguard, all his chiefly array, and the chief arranged for paddlers; then he commanded the counsellor to make the canoes ready. The counsellor chose the proper canoes for the trip, twenty double canoes, and twice forty single canoes, these for the chiefs and the bodyguard, and forty provision canoes for the chief's supplies; and as for the chief himself and his counsellor, they were on board of a triple canoe. When everything was ready for such a journey they set out. Many days they sailed. When they came to Kohala, for the first time the Kohala people recognized Aiwohikupua, a magician renowned all over the islands. And because the chief came in disguise to Kohala when he fought with Cold-nose, this was why they had not recognized him. They left Kohala and went to Keaau. Just as they reached there, Laieikawai and the sisters of Aiwohikupua returned to Paliuli. When Laieikawai and her companions returned, on the day when Aiwohikupua's party arrived, their grandmother had already foreseen Aiwohikupua's arrival at Keaau. Said Waka, "Aiwohikupua has come again to Keaau, so let the guard be watchful, look out for yourselves, do not go down to the sea, stay here on the mountain until Aiwohikupua returns to Kauai." When the princess's head guard heard the grandmother's words, then Kahalaomapuana immediately ordered Kihanuilulumoku,[50] their god, to come near the home of the chief and prepare for battle. As the princess's chief guard, she ordered her sisters to consult what would be the best way to act in behalf of the princess. When they met and consulted what was best to be done, all agreed to what Kahalaomapuana, the princess's chief guard, proposed, as follows: "You, Mailehaiwale, if Aiwohikupua should come hither, and you two meet, drive him away, for you are the first guard; and if he should plead his cause force him away: and if he is very persistent, because he is a brother, resist him still more forcibly; and if he still insists then despatch one of the guardian birds to me, then we will all meet at the same place, and I myself will drive him away. If he threatens to harm us, then I will command our god, Kihanuilulumoku, who will destroy him." After all the council had assented they stationed themselves at a distance from each other to guard the princess as before. At dawn that night arrived Aiwohikupua with his counsellor. When they saw the taboo sign--the hollow post covered with white _tapa_--then they knew that the road to the princess's dwelling was taboo. But Aiwohikupua would not believe it taboo because of having heard that his sisters had the guardian power. So they went right on and found another taboo sign like the first which they had found, for one sign was set up for each of the sisters. After passing the fourth taboo sign, they approached at a distance the fifth sign; this was Kahalaomapuana's. This was the most terrible of all, and then it began to be light; but they could not see in the dark how terrible it was. They left the sign, went a little way and met Mailehaiwale; overjoyed was Aiwohikupua to see his sister. At that instant Mailehaiwale cried, "Back, you two, this place is taboo." Aiwohikupua supposed this was in sport; both again began to approach Mailehaiwale; again the guardian told them to go. "Back at once, you two! What business have you up here and who will befriend you?" "What is this, my sister?" asked Aiwohikupua. "Are you not my friends here, and through you shall I not get my desire?" Then Mailehaiwale sent one of her guardian birds to Kahalaomapuana; in less than no time the four met at the place guarded by Mailekaluhea, where they expected to meet Aiwohikupua. CHAPTER XVI And they were ready and were sent for and came. When Aiwohikupua saw Kahalaomapuana resting on the wings of birds, as commander in chief, this was a great surprise to Aiwohikupua and his companion. Said the head guard, "Return at once, linger not, delay not your going, for the princess is taboo, you have not the least business in this place; and never let the idea come to you that we are your sisters; that time has passed." Kahalaomapuana arose and disappeared. Then the hot wrath of Aiwohikupua was kindled and his anger grew. He decided at that time to go back to the sea to Keaau, then send his warriors to destroy the younger sisters. When they turned back and came to Kahalaomapuana's taboo sign, behold! the tail of the great lizard protruded above the taboo sign, which was covered with white _tapa_ wound with the _ieie_ vine and the sweet-scented fern,[51] and it was a terrible thing to see. As soon as Aiwohikupua and his companion reached the sea at Keaau, Aiwohikupua's counsellor dispatched the chief's picked fighting men to go up and destroy the sisters, according to the chief's command. That very day Waka foresaw what Aiwohikupua's intention was. So Waka went and met Kahalaomapuana, the princess's commander in chief, and said: "Kahalaomapuana, I have seen what your brother intends to do. He is preparing ten strong men to come up here and destroy you, for your brother is wrathful because you drove him away this morning; so let us be ready in the name of our god." Then she sent for Kihanuilulumoku, the great lizard of Paliuli, their god. And the lizard came and she commanded him: "O our god, Kihanuilulumoku, see to this lawless one, this mischief-maker, this rogue of the sea; if they send a force here, slaughter them all, let no messenger escape, keep on until the last one is taken, and beware of Kalahumoku, Aiwohikupua's great strong dog;[52] if you blunder, there is an end of us, we shall not escape; exert your strength, all your godlike might over Aiwohikupua. Amen, it is finished, flown away." This was Kahalaomapuana's charge to their god. That night the ten men chosen by the chief went up to destroy the sisters of Aiwohikupua, and the assistant counsellor made the eleventh in place of the chief counsellor. At the first dawn they approached Paliuli. Then they heard the humming of the wind in the thicket from the tongue of that great lizard, Kihanuilulumoku, coming for them, but they did not see the creature, so they went on; soon they saw the upper jaw of the lizard hanging right over them; they were just between the lizard's jaws; then the assistant counsellor leaped quickly back, could not make the distance; it snapped them up; not a messenger was left. Two days passed; there was no one to tell of the disaster to Aiwohikupua's party, and because he wondered why they did not return the chief was angry. So the chief again chose a party of warriors, twenty of them, from the strongest of his men, to go up and destroy the sisters; and the counsellor appointed an assistant counsellor to go for him with the men. Again they went up until they came clear to the place where the first band had disappeared; these also disappeared in the lizard; not a messenger was left. Again the chief waited; they came not back. The chief again sent a band of forty; all were killed. So it went on until eight times forty warriors had disappeared. Then Aiwohikupua consulted with his counsellor as to the reason for none of the men who had been sent returning. Said Aiwohikupua to his counsellor, "How is it that these warriors who are sent do not return?" Said his counsellor, "It may be when they get to the uplands and see the beauty of the place they remain, and if not, they have all been killed by your sisters." "How can they be killed by those helpless girls, whom I intended to kill?" So said Aiwohikupua. And because of the chief's anxiety to know why his warriors did not come back he agreed with his counsellor to send messengers to see what the men were doing. At the chief's command the counsellor sent the Snipe and the Turnstone, Aiwohikupua's swiftest messengers, to go up and find out the truth about his men. Not long after they had left they met another man, a bird catcher from the uplands of Olaa;[53] he asked, "Where are you two going?" The runners said, "We are going up to find out the truth about our people who are living at Paliuli; eight times forty men have been sent--not one returned." "They are done for," said the bird catcher, "in the great lizard, Kihanuilulumoku; they have not been spared." When they heard this they kept on going up; not long after they heard the sighing of the wind and the humming of the trees bending back and forth; then they remembered the bird catcher's words, "If the wind hums, that is from the lizard." They knew then this must be the lizard; they flew in their bird bodies. They flew high and looked about. There right above them was the upper jaw shutting down upon them, and only by quickness of flight in their bird bodies did they escape. CHAPTER XVII As they flew far upward and were lost to sight on high, Snipe and his companion looked down at the lower jaw of the lizard plowing the earth like a shovel, and it was a fearful thing to see. It was plain their fellows must all be dead, and they returned and told Aiwohikupua what they had seen. Then Kalahumoku, Aiwohikupua's great man-eating dog, was fetched to go and kill the lizard, then to destroy the sisters of Aiwohikupua. When Kalahumoku, the man-eating dog from Tahiti, came into the presence of his grandchild (Aiwohikupua), "Go up this very day and destroy my sisters," said Aiwohikupua, "and bring Laieikawai." Before the dog went up to destroy Aiwohikupua's sisters the dog first instructed the chief, and the chiefs under him, and all the men, as follows: "Where are you? While I am away, you watch the uplands. When the clouds rise straight up, if they turn leeward then I have met Kihanuilulumoku and you will know that we have made friends. But if the clouds turn to the windward, there is trouble; I have fought with that lizard. Then pray to your god, to Lanipipili; if you see the clouds turn, seaward, the lizard is the victor; but when the clouds ascend and turn toward the mountain top, then the lizard has melted away; we have prevailed.[54] Then keep on praying until I return."[55] After giving his instructions, the dog set out up the mountain, and Aiwohikupua sent with him Snipe and Turnstone as messengers to report the deeds of the dog and the lizard. When the dog had come close to Paliuli, Kihanuilulumoku was asleep at the time; he was suddenly startled from sleep; he was awakened by the scent of a dog. By that time the lizard was too late for the dog, who went on until he reached the princess's first guardian. Then the lizard took a sniff, the guardian god of Paliuli, and recognized Kalahumoku, the marvel of Tahiti; then the lizard lifted his upper jaw to begin the fight with Kalahumoku. Instantly the dog showed his teeth at the lizard, and the fight began; then the lizard was victor over Kalahumoku and the dog just escaped without ears or tail. At the beginning of the fight the messengers returned to tell Aiwohikupua of this terrible battle. When they heard from Snipe and his companion of this battle between the lizard and the dog, Aiwohikupua looked toward the mountain. As they looked the clouds rose straight up, and no short time after turned seaward, then Aiwohikupua knew that the lizard had prevailed and Aiwohikupua regretted the defeat of their side. In the evening of the day of the fight between the two marvelous creatures Kalahumoku came limping back exhausted; when the chief looked him over, gone were the ears and tail inside the lizard. So Aiwohikupua resolved to depart, since they were vanquished. They departed and came to Kauai and told the story of the journey and of the victory of the lizard over them. (This was the third time that Aiwohikupua had been to Paliuli after Laieikawai without fulfilling his mission.) Having returned to Kauai without Laieikawai, Aiwohikupua gave up thinking about Laieikawai and resolved to carry out the commands of Poliahu. At this time Aiwohikupua, with his underchiefs and the women of his household, clapped hands in prayer before Lanipipili, his god, to annul his vow. And he obtained favor in the presence of his god, and was released from his sinful vow "not to take any woman of these islands to wife," as has been shown in the former chapters of this story. After the ceremonies at Kauai, he sent his messengers, the Snipe and the Turnstone, to go and announce before Poliahu the demands of the chief. In their bird bodies they flew swiftly to Hinaikamalama's home at Hana and came and asked the people of the place, "Where is the woman who is betrothed to the chief of Kauai?" "She is here," answered the natives of the place. They went to meet the princess of Hana. The messengers said to the princess, "We have been sent hither to tell you the command of your betrothed husband. You have three months to prepare for the marriage, and in February, on the night of the seventeenth, the night of Kulu, he will come to meet you, according to the oath between you." When the princess had heard these words the messengers returned and came to Aiwohikupua. Asked the chief, "Did you two meet Poliahu?" "Yes," said the messengers, "we told her, as you commanded, to prepare herself; Poliahu inquired, 'Does he still remember the game of _konane_ between us?'" "Perhaps so," answered the messengers. When Aiwohikupua heard the messengers' words he suspected that they had not gone to Poliahu; then Aiwohikupua asked to make sure, "How did you two fly?" Said they, "We flew past an island, flew on to some long islands--a large, island like the one we first passed, two little islands like one long island, and a very little island; we flew along the east coast of that island and came to a house below the hills covered with shade; there we found Poliahu; that was how it was." Said Aiwohikupua, "You did not find Poliahu; this was Hinaikainalama." Now for this mistake of the messengers the rage of Aiwohikupua was stirred against his messengers, and they ceased to be among his favorites. At this, Snipe and his companion decided to tell the secrets prohibited to the two by their master. Now how they carried out their intrigue, you will see in Chapter XVIII. CHAPTER XVIII. After the dismissal of Snipe and his fellow, the chief dispatched Frigate-bird, one of his nimble messengers, with the same errand as before. Frigate-bird went to Poliahu; when they met, Frigate-bird gave the chief's command, according to the words spoken in Chapter XVII of this story. Having given his message, the messenger returned and reported aright; then his lord was pleased. Aiwohikupua waited until the end of the third month; the chief took his underchiefs and his favorites and the women of his household and other companions suitable to go with their renowned lord in all his royal splendor on an expedition for the marriage of chiefs. On the twenty-fourth day of the month Aiwohikupua left Kauai, sailed with 40 double canoes, twice 40 single canoes, and 20 provision boats. Some nights before that set for the marriage, the eleventh night of the month, the night of Huna, they came to Kawaihae; then he sent his messenger, Frigate-bird, to get Poliahu to come thither to meet Aiwohikupua on the day set for the marriage. When the messenger returned from Poliahu, he told Poliahu's reply: "Your wife commands that the marriage take place at Waiulaula. When you look out early in the morning of the seventeenth, the day of Kulu, and the snow clothes the summit of Maunakea, Maunaloa, and Hualalai,[56] clear to Waiulaula, then they have reached the place where you are to wed; then set out, so she says." Then Aiwohikupua got ready to present himself with the splendor of a chief. Aiwohikupua clothed the chiefs and chiefesses and his two favorites in feather capes and the women of his household in braided mats of Kauai. Aiwohikupua clothed himself in his snow mantle that Poliahu had given him, put on the helmet of _ie_ vine wrought with feathers of the red _iiwi_ bird. He clothed his oarsmen and steersmen in red and white _tapa_ as attendants of a chief; so were all his bodyguard arrayed. On the high seat of the double canoe in which the chief sailed was set up a canopied couch covered with feather capes, and right above the couch the taboo signs of a chief, and below the sacred symbols sat Aiwohikupua. Following the chief and surrounding his canoe came ten double canoes filled with expert dancers. So was Aiwohikupua arrayed to meet Poliahu. On the seventeenth day, the day of Kulu, in the early morning, a little later than sunrise, Aiwohikupua and his party saw the snow begin to hide the summits of the mountain clear to the place of meeting. Already had Poliahu, Lilinoe, Waiaie, and Kahoupokane arrived for the chief's marriage. Then Aiwohikupua set out to join the woman of the mountain. He went in the state described above. As Aiwohikupua was sailing from Kawaihae, Lilinoe rejoiced to see the unrivaled splendor of the chief. When they came to Waiulaula they were shivering with cold, so Aiwohikupua sent his messenger to tell Poliahu, "They can not come for the cold." Then Poliahu laid off her mantle of snow and the mountain dwellers put on their sun mantles, and the snow retreated to its usual place. When Aiwohikupua and his party reached Poliahu's party the princess was more than delighted with the music from the dancers accompanying the chief's canoe and she praised his splendid appearance; it was beautiful. When they met both showed the robes given them before in token of their vow. Then the chiefs were united and became one flesh, and they returned and lived in Kauai, in the uplands of Honopuwai. Now Aiwohikupua's messengers, Snipe and Turnstone, went to tell Hinaikamalama of the union of Aiwohikupua with Poliahu. When Hinaikamalama heard about it, then she asked her parents to let her go on a visit to Kauai, and the request pleased her parents. The parents hastened the preparation of canoes for Hinaikamalama's voyage to Kauai, and selected a suitable cortege for the princess's journey, as is customary on the journey of a chief. When all was ready Hinaikamalama went on board the double canoe and sailed and came to Kauai. When she arrived Aiwohikupua was with Poliahu and others at Mana, where all the chiefs were gathered for the sport between Hauailiki and Makaweli. That night was a festival night, the game of _kilu_ and the dance _kaeke_ being the sports of the night.[57] During the rejoicings in the middle of the night came Hinaikamalama and sat in the midst of the festive gathering, and all marveled at this strange girl. When she came into their midst Aiwohikupua did not see her, for his attention was taken by the dance. As Hinaikamalama sat there, behold! Hauailiki conceived a passion for her. Then Hauailiki went and said to the master of ceremonies, "Go and tell Aiwohikupua to stop the dance and play at spin-the-gourd; when the game begins, then you go up and draw the stranger for my partner to-night." At the request of the one for whom the sports were given the dance was ended. Then Hauailiki played at spin-the-gourd with Poliahu until the gourd had been spun ten times. Then the master of ceremonies arose and made the circuit of the assembly, returned and touched Hauailiki with his _maile_ wand and sang a song, and Hauailiki arose. Then the master of ceremonies took the wand back and touched Hinaikamalama's head and she arose. As she stood there she requested the master of the sports to let her speak, and he nodded. Hinaikamalama asked for whom the sports were given, and they told her for Hauailiki and Makaweli. And Hinaikamalama turned right around and said to Hauailiki, "O chief of this festal gathering (since I have heard this is all in your honor), your sport master has matched us two, O chief, to bring us together for a little; now I put off the match which the master of ceremonies has chosen. But let me explain my object in coming so far as Kauai. That fellow there, Aiwohikupua, is my reason for coming to this land, because I heard that he was married to Poliahu; therefore I came here to see how he had lied to me. For that man there came to Hana on Maui while we were surf riding. The two of them were the last to surf, and when they were through, they came home to play _konane_ with me. He wanted to play _konane_. We set up the board again; I asked what he would bet; he pointed to his double canoe. I said I did not like his bet; then I told the bet I liked, our persons; if he beat me at _konane_, then I would become his and do everything that he told me to do, and the same if he lost to me, then he was to do for me as I to him; and we made this bargain. And in the game in a little while my piece blocked the game, and he was beaten. I said to him, 'You have lost; you ought to stay with me as we have wagered.' Said that fellow, 'I will wait to carry out the bet until I return, from a touring trip. Then I will fulfill the bet, O princess.' And because of his fine speeches we agreed upon this, and for this reason, I have lived apart under a taboo until now. And when I heard that he had a wife, I came to Kauai and entered the festal gathering. O chief, that is how it was." Then the men at the gathering all around the _kilu_ shelter were roused and blamed Aiwohikupua. Then at Hinaikamalama's story, Poliahu was filled with hot anger; and she went back to White Mountain and is there to this day. Soon after Hinaikamalama's speech the games began again; the game was between Aiwohikupua and Makaweli. Then the master of ceremonies stood up and touched Hauailiki and Hinaikamalama with the wand, and Hauailiki arose and Hinaikamalama also. This time Hinaikamalama said to Hauailiki, "O chief, we have been matched by the sport master as is usual in this game. But I must delay my consent; when Aiwohikupua has consented to carry out our vow, after that, at the chief's next festival night, this night's match shall be fulfilled." Then Hauailiki was very well pleased. And because of Hinaikamalama's words, Aiwohikupua took Hinaikamalama to carry out their vow. That very night as they rested comfortably in the fulfillment of their bargain, Hinaikamalama grew numb with cold, for Poliahu had spread her cold snow mantle over her enemy. Then Hinaikamalama raised a short chant-- Cold, ah! cold, A very strange cold, My heart is afraid. Perhaps sin dwells within the house, My heart begins to fear, Perhaps the house dweller has sinned. O my comrade, it is cold. CHAPTER XIX When Hinaikamalama ceased chanting, she said to Aiwohikupua, "Where are you? Embrace me close to make me warm; I am cold all over; no warmth at all." Then Aiwohikupua obeyed her, and she grew as warm as before. As they began to take their ease in fulfillment of their vow at the betrothal, then the cold came a second time upon Hinaikamalama. Then she raised a chant, as follows: O my comrade, it is cold, Cold as the snow on the mountain top, The cold lies at the soles of my feet, It presses upon my heart, The cold wakens me In my night of sleep. This time Hinaikamalama said to Aiwohikupua, "Do you not know any reason for our being cold? If you know the reason, then tell me; do not hide it." Said Aiwohikupua, "This cold comes from your rival; she is perhaps angry with us, so she wears her snow mantle; therefore we are cold." Hinaikamalama answered, "We must part, for we have met and our vow is fulfilled." Said Aiwohikupua, "We will break off this time; let us separate; to-morrow at noon, then we will carry out the vow." "Yes," said Hinaikamalama. After they had parted then Hinaikamalama slept pleasantly the rest of the night until morning. At noon Aiwohikupua again took her in fulfillment of the agreement of the night before. As those two reposed accordingly, Poliahu was displeased. Then Poliahu took her sun mantle and covered herself; this time it was the heat Poliahu sent to Hinaikamalama. Then she raised a short song, as follows: The heat, ah! the heat, The heat of my love stifles me, It burns my body, It draws sweat from my heart, Perhaps this heat is my lover's--ah! Said Aiwohikupua, "It is not my doing; perhaps Poliahu causes this heat; perhaps she is angry with us." Said Hinaikamalama, "Let us still have patience and if the heat comes over us again, then leave me." After this, they again met in fulfillment of their vow. Then again the heat settled over them, then she raised again the chant: The heat, ah! the heat, The heat of my love stifles me. Its quivering touch scorches my heart, The sick old heat of the winter, The fiery heat of summer, The dripping heat of the summer season, The heat compels me to go, I must go. Then Hinaikamalama arose to go. Said Aiwohikupua, "You might give me a kiss before you go." Said Hinaikamalama, "I will not give you a kiss; the heat from that wife of yours will come again, it will never do. Fare you well!" Let us leave off here telling about Aiwohikupua. It is well to speak briefly of Hinaikamalama. After leaving Aiwohikupua, she came and stayed at the house of a native of the place. This very night there was again a festivity for Hauailiki and the chiefs at Puuopapai. This night Hinaikamalama remembered her promise to Hauailiki after the game of spin-the-gourd, before she met Aiwohikupua. This was the second night of the festival; then Hinaikamalama went and sat outside the group. Now, the first game of spin-the-gourd was between Kauakahialii and Kailiokalauokekoa. Afterward Kailiokalauokekoa and Makaweli had the second game. During the game Poliahu entered the assembly. To Hauailiki and Poliahu went the last game of the night. And as the master of ceremonies had not seen Hinaikamalama early that night, he had not done his duty. For on the former night the first game this night had been promised to Hauailiki and Hinaikamalama, but not seeing her he gave the first game to others. Close on morning the sport master searched the gathering for Hinaikamalama and found her. Then the sport master stood up in the midst of the assembly, while Hauailiki and Poliahu were playing, then he sang a song while fluttering the end of the wand over Hauailiki and took away the wand and Hauailiki stood up. The sport master went over to Hinaikamalama, touched her with the wand and withdrew it. Then Hinaikamalama stood in the midst of the circle of players. When Poliahu saw Hinaikamalama, she frowned at the sight of her rival. And Hauailiki and Hinaikamalama withdrew where they could take their pleasure. When they met, said Hinaikamalama to Hauailiki, "If you take me only for a little while, then there is an end of it, for my parents do not wish me to give up my virginity thus. But if you intend to take me as your wife, then I will give myself altogether to you as my parents desire." To the woman's words Hauailiki answered, "Your idea is a good one; you think as I do; but let us first meet according to the choice of the sport master, then afterwards we will marry." "Not so," said Hinaikamalama, "let me be virgin until you are ready to come and get me at Hana." On the third night of Hauailiki's festivities, when the chiefs and others were assembled, that night Lilinoe and Poliahu, Waiaie and Kahoupokane met, for the three had come to find Poliahu, thinking that Aiwohikupua was living with her. This night, while Aiwohikupua and Makaweli were playing spin-the-gourd, in the midst of the sport, the women of the mountain entered the place of assembly. As Poliahu and the others stood in their mantles of snow, sparkling in the light, the group of players were in an uproar because of these women, because of the strange garments they wore; at the same time cold penetrated the whole _kilu_ shelter and lasted until morning, when Poliahu and her companions left Kauai. At the same time Hinaikamalama left Kauai. When we get to Laieikawai's coming to Kauai after Kekalukaluokewa's marriage with Laieikawai, then we will begin again the story of Hinaikamalama; at this place let us tell of Kauakahialii's command to his friend, and so on until he meets Laieikawai. After their return from Hawaii, Kauakahialii lived with Kailiokalauokekoa at Pihanakalani. [58] Now the end of their days was near. Then Kauakahialii laid a blessing upon his friend, Kekalukaluokewa, and this it was: "Ah! my friend, greatly beloved, I give you my blessing, for the end of my days is near, and I am going back to the other side of the earth. "Only one thing for you to guard, our wife.[59] When I fall dead, there where sight of you and our wife comes not back, then do you rule over the island, you above, and our wife below; as we two ruled over the island, so will you and our wife do. "It may be when I am dead you will think of taking a wife; do not take our wife; by no means think of her as your wife, for she belongs to us two. "The woman for you to take is the wife left on Hawaii, Laieikawai. If you take her for your wife it will be well with you, you will be renowned. Would you get her, guard one thing, our flute, guard well the flute,[60] then the woman is yours, this is my charge to you." Kauakahialii's charge pleased his friend. In the end Kauakahialii died; the chief, his friend, took the rule, and their wife was the counsellor. Afterwards, when Kailiokalauokekoa's last days drew near, she prayed her husband to guard Kanikawi, their sacred flute, according to Kauakahialii's command: "My husband, here is the flute; guard it; it is a wonderful flute; whatever things you desire it can do; if you go to get the wife your friend charged you to, this will be the means of your meeting. You must guard it forever; wherever you go to dwell, never leave the flute at all, for you well know what your friend did when you two came to get me when I was almost dead for love of your friend. It was this flute that saved me from the other side of the grave; therefore, listen and guard well my sayings." CHAPTER XX After Kailiokalauokekoa's death, the chief's house and all things else became Kekalukaluokewa's, and he portioned out the land[61] and set up his court. After apportioning the land and setting up his court, Kekalukaluokewa bethought him of his friend's charge concerning Laieikawai. Then he commanded his counsellor to make ready 4,000 canoes for the journey to Hawaii after a wife, according to the custom of a chief. When the chief's command was carried out, the chief took two favorites, a suitable retinue of chiefs, and all the embalmed bodies of his ancestors. In the month called "the first twin," when the sea was calm, they left Kauai and came to Hawaii. Many days passed on the voyage. As they sailed, they arrived in the early morning at Makahanaloa in Hilo. Then said the man who had seen Laieikawai before to the chief, "See that rainbow arching over the uplands; that is Paliuli, where I found her." Now the rain was sweeping Hilo at the time when they came to Makahanaloa. At the man's words, the chief answered, "I will wait before believing that a sign for Laieikawai; for the rainbow is common in rainy weather; so, my proposal is, let us anchor the canoes and wait until the rain has cleared, then if the rainbow remains when there is no rain, it must be a sign for Laieikawai." The chief's proposal was the same as Aiwohikupua's. So they remained there as the chief desired. In ten days and two it cleared over Hilo, and the country was plainly visible. In the early morning of the twelfth day the chief went out of the house, and lo! the rainbow persisted as before; a little later in the day the rainbow was at the seacoast of Keaau; Laieikawai had gone to the coast (as in the narrative before of Aiwohikupua's story). That day there was no longer any doubt of the sign, and they sailed and came to Keaau. When they arrived, Laieikawai had gone up to Paliuli. When they arrived the people crowded to see Kekalukaluokewa and exclaimed, "Kauai for handsome men!" On the day when Kekalukaluokewa sailed and came to Keaau, Waka foresaw this Kekalukaluokewa. Said Waka to her grandchild, "Do not go again to the coast, for Kekalukaluokewa has come to Keaau to get you for his wife. Kauakahialii is dead, and has charged his favorite to take you to wife; therefore this is your husband. If you accept this man you will rule the island, surely preserve these bones. Therefore wait up here four days, then go down, and if you like him, then return and tell me your pleasure." So Laieikawai waited four days as her grandmother commanded. In the early morning of the fourth day of retirement, she arose and went down with her hunchbacked attendant to Keaau. When she arrived close to the village, lo! Kekalukaluokewa was already out surf riding; three youths rose in the surf, the chief and his favorites. As Laieikawai and her companion spied out for Kekalukaluokewa, they did not know which man the grandmother wanted. Said Laieikawai to her nurse, "How are we to know the man whom my grandmother said was here?" Her nurse said, "Better wait until they are through surfing, and the one who comes back without a board, he is the chief." So they sat and waited. Then, the surf riding ended and the surfers came back to shore. Then they saw some men carrying the boards of the favorites, but the chief's board the favorites bore on their shoulders, and Kekalukaluokewa came without anything. So Laieikawai looked upon her husband. When they had seen what they had come for, they returned to Paliuli and told their grandmother what they had seen. Asked the grandmother, "Were you pleased with the man?" "Yes," answered Laieikawai. Said Waka, "To-morrow at daybreak Kekalukaluokewa goes surfing alone; at that time I will cover all the land of Puna with a mist, and in this mist I will send you on the wings of birds to meet Kekalukaluokewa without your being seen. When the mist clears, then all shall see you riding on the wave with Kekalukaluokewa; that is the time to give a kiss to the Kauai youth. So when you go out of the house, speak no word to anyone, man or woman, until you have given a kiss to Kekalukaluokewa, then you may speak to the others. After the surf riding, then I will send the birds and a mist over the land; that is the time for you to return with your husband to your house, become one flesh according to your wish." When all this had been told Laieikawai, she returned to the chief-house with her nurse. Afterward, when they were in the house, she sent her nurse to bring Mailehaiwale, Mailekaluhea, Mailelaulii, Mailepakaha, and Kahalaomapuana, her counsellors, as they had agreed. When the counsellors came, her body guard, Laieikawai said, "Where are you, my comrades? I have taken counsel with our grandmother about my marriage, so I sent my nurse to bring you, as we agreed when we met here. My grandmother wishes Kekalukaluokewa to be my husband. What do you say? What you all agree, I will do. If you consent, well; if not, it shall be just as you think." Kahalaomapuana said, "It is well; marry him as your grandmother wishes; not a word from us. Only when you marry a husband do not forsake us, as we have agreed; where you go, let us go with you; if you are in trouble, we will share it." "I will not forsake you," said Laieikawai. Now we have seen in former chapters, in the story of Hauailiki and the story of Aiwohikupua's second trip to Hawaii, that it was customary for Laieikawai to go down to Keaau, and it was the same when Kekalukaluokewa came to Hawaii. Every time Laieikawai came to Keaau the youth Halaaniani saw her without knowing where she came from; from that time the wicked purpose never left his mind to win Laieikawai, but he was ashamed to approach her and never spoke to her. As to this Halaaniani, he was Malio's brother, a youth famous throughout Puna for his good looks, but a profligate fellow. During the four days of Laieikawai's retirement Halaaniani brooded jealously over her absence. She came no more to Keaau. In the village he heard that Laieikawai was to be Kekalukaluokewa's. Then quickly he went to consult his sister, to Malio.[62] Said her brother, "Malio, I have come to you to gain my desire. All those days I was absent I was at Keaau to behold a certain beautiful woman, for my passion forced me to go again and again to see this woman. To-day I heard that to-morrow she is to be the chief's of Kauai; therefore let us exert all our arts over her to win her to me." Said his sister, "She is no other than Waka's grandchild, Laieikawai, whom the grandmother has given to the great chief of Kauai; to-morrow is the marriage. Therefore, as you desire, go home, and in the dark of evening return, and we will sleep here on the mountain; that is the time for us to determine whether you lose or win." According to Malio's directions to her brother, Halaaniani returned to his house at Kula. He came at the time his sister had commanded. Before they slept, Malio said to Halaaniani, "If you get a dream when you sleep, tell it to me, and I will do the same." They slept until toward morning. Halaaniani awoke, he could not sleep, and Malio awoke at the same time. CHAPTER XXI Malio asked Halaaniani, "What did you dream?" Said Halaaniani, "I dreamed nothing, as I slept I knew nothing, had not the least dream until I awoke just now." Halaaniani asked his sister, "How was it with you?" Said his sister, "I had a dream; as we slept we went into the thicket; you slept in your hollow tree and I in mine; my spirit saw a little bird building its nest; when it was completed the bird whose the nest was flew away out of sight. And by-and-by another bird flew hither and sat upon the nest, but I saw not that bird come again whose the nest was." Asked Halaaniani of the dream, "What is the meaning of this dream?" His sister told him the true meaning of the dream. "You will prosper; for the first bird whose the nest was, that is Kekalukaluokewa, and the nest, that is Laieikawai, and the last bird who sat in the nest, that is you. Therefore this very morning the woman shall be yours. When Waka sends Laieikawai on the wings of the birds for the marriage with Kekalukaluokewa, mist and fog will cover the land; when it clears, then you three will appear riding on the crest of the wave, then you shall see that I have power to veil Waka's face from seeing what I am doing for you; so let us arise and get near to the place where Laieikawai weds." After Malio's explanation of the dream was ended they went right to the place where the others were. Now Malio had power to do supernatural deeds; it was to secure this power that she lived apart. When they came to Keaau they saw Kekalukaluokewa swimming out for surf riding. Malio said to Halaaniani, "You listen to me! When you get on the back of the wave and glide along with the breaker, do not ride--lose the wave; this for four waves; and the fifth wave, this is their last. Maybe they will wonder at your not riding ashore and ask the reason, then you answer you are not accustomed to surfing on the short waves, and when they ask you what long waves you surf on say on the _Huia_.[63] If they pay no attention to you, and prepare to ride in on their last wave, as they ride you must seize hold of Laieikawai's feet while Kekalukaluokewa rides in alone. When you have the woman, carry her far out to sea; look over to the coast where Kumukahi[64] swims in the billows, then this is the place for surfing; then pray in my name and I will send a wave over you; this is the wave you want; it is yours." While they were talking Waka covered the land with a mist. Then the thunder pealed and there was Laieikawai on the crest of the wave. This was Waka's work. Again the thunder pealed a second peal. This was Malio's work. When the mist cleared three persons floated on the crest of the wave, and this was a surprise to the onlookers. As Waka had commanded her grandchild, "speak to no one until you have kissed Kekalukaluokewa, then speak to others," the grandchild obeyed her command. While they rode the surf not one word was heard between them. As they stood on the first wave Kekalukaluokewa said, "Let us ride." Then they lay resting upon their boards; Halaaniani let his drop back, the other two rode in; then it was that Laieikawai and Kekalukaluokewa kissed as the grandmother had directed. Three waves they rode, three times they went ashore, and three times Halaaniani dropped back. At the fourth wave, for the first time Laieikawai questioned Halaaniani: "Why do you not ride? This is the fourth wave you have not ridden; what is your reason for not riding?" "Because I am not used to the short waves," said Halaaniani, "the long wave is mine." He spoke as his sister had directed. The fifth wave, this was the last for Laieikawai and Kekalukaluokewa. As Kekalukaluokewa and Laieikawai lay resting on the wave, Halaaniani caught Laieikawai by the soles of her feet and got his arm around her, and Laieikawai's surf board was lost. Kekalukaluokewa rode in alone and landed on the dry beach. When Laieikawai was in Halaaniani's arms she said, "This is strange! my board is gone." Said Halaaniani, "Your board is all right, woman; a man will bring it back." While they were speaking Laieikawai's surf board floated to where they were. Said Laieikawai to Halaaniani, "Where is your wave that you have kept me back here for?" At this question of the princess they swam, and while they swam Halaaniani bade the princess, "As we swim do not look back, face ahead; when my crest is here, then I will tell you." They swam, and after a long time Laieikawai began to wonder; then she said, "This is a strange wave, man! We are swimming out where there are no waves at all; we are in the deep ocean; a wave here would be strange; there are only swells out here." Said Halaaniani, "You listen well; at my first word to you there will be something for us." Laieikawai listened for the word of her surfing comrade. They swam until Halaaniani thought they could get the crest, then Halaaniani said to his surfing comrade, "Look toward the coast." Laieikawai replied, "The land has vanished, Kumukahi comes bobbing on the wave." "This is our crest," said Halaaniani. "I warn you when the first wave breaks, do not ride that wave, or the second; the third wave is ours. When the wave breaks and scatters, keep on, do not leave the board which keeps you floating; if you leave the board, then you will not see me again." At the close of this speech Halaaniani prayed to their god in the name of his sister, as Malio had directed. Halaaniani was half through his prayer; a crest arose; he finished the prayer to the amen; again a crest arose, the second this; not long after another wave swelled. This time Halaaniani called out, "Let us ride." Then Laieikawai quickly lay down on the board and with Halaaniani's help rode toward the shore. Now, when Laieikawai was deep under the wave, the crest broke finely; Laieikawai glanced about to see how things were; Halaaniani was not with her. Laieikawai looked again; Halaaniani with great dexterity was resting on the very tip of the wave. That was when Laieikawai began to give way to Halaaniani. Waka saw them returning from surf riding and supposed Laieikawai's companion was Kekalukaluokewa. Malio, the sister of Halaaniani, as is seen in the story of her life, can do many marvelous things, and in Chapters XXII and XXIII you will see what great deeds she had power to perform. CHAPTER XXII While Laieikawai was surfing ashore with Halaaniani, Waka's supernatural gift was overshadowed by Malio's superior skill, and she did not see what was being done to her grandchild. Just as Laieikawai came to land, Waka sent the birds in the mist, and when the mist passed off only the surf boards remained; Laieikawai was with Halaaniani in her house up at Paliuli. There Halaaniani took Laieikawai to wife. The night passed, day came, and it was midday; Waka thought this strange, for before sending her grandchild to meet Kekalukaluokewa she had said to her: "Go, to-day, and meet Kekalukaluokewa, then return to the uplands, you two, and after your flesh has become defiled come to me; I will take care of you until the pollution is past." Now, this was the custom with a favorite daughter. Because Waka was surprised, at midday of the second day after Laieikawai joined Halaaniani, the grandmother went to look after her grandchild. When the grandmother came to them, they were both fast asleep, like new lovers, as if the nights were the time for waking. As Laieikawai lay asleep, her grandmother looked and saw that the man sleeping with her grandchild was not the one she had chosen for her. Then Waka wakened the grandchild, and when she awoke the grandmother asked, "Who is this?" Answered the grandchild, "Kekalukaluokewa, of course." Said the grandmother in a rage, "This is no Kekalukaluokewa; this is Halaaniani, the brother of Malio. Therefore, I give you my oath never to see your face again, my grandchild, from this time until I die, for you have disobeyed me. I thought to hide you away until you could care for me. But now, live with your husband for the future; keep your beauty, your supernatural power is yours no longer; that you must look for from your husband; work with your own hands; let your husband be your fortune and your pride." After this Waka made ready to build another house like that she had built for Laieikawai. And by Waka's art the house was speedily completed. When the house was ready, Waka went herself to meet Kekalukaluokewa in person, for her heart yearned with love for Kakalukaluokewa. When Waka reached Kekalukaluokewa's place, she clasped his feet and said, with sorrowful heart: "Great is my grief and my love for you, O chief, for I desired you for my grandchild as the man to save these bones. I thought my grandchild was a good girl, not so! I saw her sleeping with Halaaniani, not the man I had chosen for her. Therefore, I come to beseech you to give me a canoe and men also, and I will go and get the foster child of Kapukaihaoa, Laielohelohe,[66] who is like Laieikawai, for they are twins." And for this journey Kekalukaluokewa gave a double canoe with men and all the equipment. Before Waka went after Laielohelohe she commanded Kekalukaluokewa as follows: "I shall be gone three times ten days and three days over, then I shall return. Keep watch, and if the mist rises on the ocean, then you will know that I am returning with your wife, then purify yourself for two days before the marriage." According to her determination, Waka sailed to Oahu, where the canoes landed at Honouliuli and Waka saw the rainbow arching up at Wahiawa. She took a little pig to sacrifice before Kapukaihaoa, the priest who took care of Laielohelohe, and went up thither. Waka went up and reached Kukaniloko; she draw near the place where Laielohelohe was hidden, held the pig out to the priest and prayed, and came to the amen, then she let the pig go. The priest asked, "Why do you bring me the pig? What can I do for you?" Said Waka, "My foster child has sinned, she is not a good girl; I wished to have the chief of Kauai for her husband, but she would not listen to me, she became Halaaniani's; therefore, I come to take your foster child to be the wife of Kekalukaluokewa, the chief of Kauai. We two shall be provided for, he will preserve our bones in the days of our old age until we die, and when that chief is ours my foster child will be supplanted, and she will realize how she has sinned." Said Kapukaihaoa, "The pig is well, therefore I give you my foster child to care for, and if you succeed well, and I hear of your prosperity, then I will come to seek you." Then Waka entered with Kapukaihaoa the taboo place where Laielohelohe was hidden; Waka waited and the priest went still farther into the place and brought her to Waka, then Waka knelt before Laielohelohe and did her reverence. On the day when Laielohelohe went on board the canoe, then the priest took his foster child's umbilical cord[66] and wore it about his neck. But he did not sorrow for Laielohelohe, thinking how good fortune had come to her. From the time Laielohelohe was taken on board, not one of the paddlers had the least glimpse of her until they came to Hawaii. Kekalukaluokewa waited during the time appointed. The next day, in the early morning, when the chief awoke from sleep, he saw the sign which Waka had promised, for there was the colored cloud on the ocean. Kekalukaluokewa prepared for Laielohelohe's arrival, expecting to see her first at that time. Not so! In the afternoon, when the double canoes came in sight, all the people crowded to the landing place to see the chief, thinking she would come ashore and meet her husband. When the canoe approached the shore, then fog and mist covered the land from Paliuli to the sea. Then Laielohelohe and Waka were borne under cover of the mist on the birds to Paliuli, and Laielohelohe was placed in the house prepared for her and stayed there until Halaaniani took her. Three days was Waka at Paliuli after returning from Oahu. Then she came down with Kekalukaluokewa for the marriage of the chiefs. Then Waka came to Kekalukaluokewa and said, "Your wife has come, so prepare yourself in forty days; summon all the people to assemble at the place where you two shall meet; make a _kilu_ shelter; there disgrace Laieikawai, that she may see what wrong she has done." At the time when Waka took away her supernatural protection from Laieikawai, Aiwohikupua's sisters took counsel as to what they had better do; and they agreed upon what they should say to Laieikawai. Kahalaomapuana came to Laieikawai, and she said: "We became your bodyguard while Waka still protected you; now she has removed her guardianship and left you. Therefore, as we agreed in former days, 'Adversity to one is adversity to all;' now that you are in trouble, we will share your trouble. As we will not forsake you, so do not you forsake us until our death; this is what we have agreed." When Laieikawai heard these words her tears fell for love of her comrades, and she said, "I supposed you would forsake me when fortune was taken from me; not so! What does it matter! Should fortune come to me hereafter, then I will place you far above myself." Halaaniani and Laieikawai lived as man and wife and Aiwohikupua's sisters acted as her servants. Perhaps the fourth month of their union, one day at noon when Halaaniani opened the door and went outside the house, he saw Laielohelohe going out of her taboo house. Then once more longing seized Halaaniani. He returned with his mind fixed upon doing a mischief to the girl, determined to get her and pollute her. As he was at that time living on good terms with Laieikawai, Halaaniani sought some pretext for parting from Laieikawai in order to carry out his purpose. That night Halaaniani deceived Laieikawai, saying, "Ever since we have lived up here, my delight in surf riding has never ceased; at noon the longing seizes me; it is the same every day; so I propose to-morrow we go down to Keaau surf riding, and return here." The wife agreed. Early in the morning Laieikawai sought her counsellors, the sisters of Aiwohikupua, and told them what the husband had proposed that night, and this pleased her counsellors. Laieikawai said to them, "We two are going to the sea, as our husband wishes. You wait; do not be anxious if ten days pass and our husband has not had enough of the sport of surf riding; but if more than ten days pass, some evil has befallen us; then come to my help." They departed and came to a place just above Keaau; then Halaaniani began to make trouble for Laieikawai, saying, "You go ahead to the coast and I will go up and see your sister-in-law, Malio, and return. And if you wait for me until day follows night, and night again that day, and, again the day succeeds the night, then you will know that I am dead; then marry another husband." This proposal of her husband's did not please the wife, and she proposed their going up together, but the slippery fellow used all his cunning, and she was deceived. Halaaniani left her. Laieikawai went on to Keaau, and at a place not close to Kekalukaluokewa, there she remained; and night fell, and the husband did not return; day came, and he did not return. She waited that day until night; it was no better; then she thought her husband was dead, and she began to pour out her grief. CHAPTER XXIII Very heavy hearted was Laieikawai at her husband's death, so she mourned ten days and two (twelve days) for love of him. While Laieikawai mourned, her counsellors wondered, for Laieikawai had given them her charge before going to Keaau. "Wait for me ten days, and should I not return," she had bidden them as told in Chapter XXII; so clearly she was in trouble. And the time having passed which Laieikawai charged her companions to wait, Aiwohikupua's sisters awoke early in the morning of the twelfth day and went to look after their comrade. They went to Keaau, and as they approached and Laieikawai spied her counsellors she poured out her grief with wailing. Now her counsellors marveled at her wailing and remembered her saying "some evil has befallen"; at her wailing and at her gestures of distress, for Laieikawai was kneeling on the ground with one hand clapped across her back and the other at her forehead, and she wailed aloud as follows: O you who come to me--alas! Here I am, My heart is trembling, There is a rushing at my heart for love. Because the man is gone--my close companion! He has departed. He has departed, my lehua blossom, spicy kookoolau, With his soft pantings, Tremulous, thick gaspings, Proud flower of my heart, Behold--alas! Behold me desolate-- The first faint fear branches and grows--I can not bear it! My heart is darkened With love. Alas, my husband! When her companions heard Laieikawai wailing, they all wailed with her. After their lament, said Kahalaomapuana, "This is a strange way to cry; you open your mouth wide, but no tears run; you seem to be dried up, as if the tears were shut off." Said the sisters, "What do you mean?" Kahalaomapuana replied, "As if there were nothing the matter with our husband." Said Laieikawai, "He is dead, for on the way down, just above here, he said, 'You go ahead and I will go up and see your sister-in-law, and if you wait for me until day follows night and night day and day again that night, then I am dead,' so he charged me. I waited here; the appointed time passed; I thought he was dead; here I stayed until you came and found me wailing." Said Kahalaomapuana, "He is not dead; wait a day; stop wailing!" Because of Kahalaomapuana's words they waited four days, but nothing happened. Then Laieikawai began to wail again until evening of the third day, and this night, at dawn, for the first time she fell asleep. Just as sleep came to her Halaaniani stood before her with another woman, and Laieikawai started up, and it was only a dream! At the same time Mailehaiwale had a vision. She awoke and told her dream to Mailelaulii and Mailekaluhea. As they were talking about it Laieikawai awoke and told her dream. Said Mailelaulii, "We are just talking of Mailehaiwale's dream." As they discussed the dreams Kahalaomapuana awoke from sleep and asked what they were talking about. Mailehaiwale told the dream that had come to her: "It was up at Paliuli, Halaaniani came and took you, Kahalaomapuana, and you two went away somewhere; my spirit stood and watched you, and the excitement awoke me." Laieikawai also told her dream, and Kahalaomapuana said, "Halaaniani is not dead; we will wait; do not weep; waste no tears." Then Laieikawai stopped wailing, and they returned to Paliuli. At this place we shall tell of Halaaniani, and here we shall see his clever trickery. When Halaaniani told Laieikawai he was going up to see Malio, this was in order to get away from her after giving her his commands. The fellow went up and met Malio. His sister asked. "What have you come up here for?" Said Halaaniani, "I have come up here to you once more to show you what I desire; for I have again seen a beautiful woman with a face like Laieikawai's. "Yesterday morning when I went outside my house I saw this young girl with the lovely face; then a great longing took possession of me. "And because I remembered that you were the one who fulfilled my wishes, therefore I have come up here again." Said Malio to her brother, "That is Laielohelohe, another of Waka's grandchildren; she is betrothed to Kekalukaluokewa, to be his wife. Therefore go and watch the girl's house without being seen for four days, and see what she does; then come back and tell me; then I will send you to seduce the girl. I can not do it by my power, for they are two." At these words of Malio, Halaaniani went to spy outside of Laielohelohe's house without being seen; almost twice ten days he lay in wait; then he saw Laielohelohe stringing _lehua_ blossoms. He came repeatedly many days; there she was stringing _lehua_ blossoms. Halaaniani returned to his sister as he had been directed, and told her what he had seen of Laielohelohe. When Malio heard the story she told her brother what to do to win Laielohelohe, and said to Halaaniani, "Go now, and in the middle of the night come up here to me, and we two will go to Laielohelohe's place." Halaaniani went away, and close to the appointed time, then he arose and joined his sister. His sister took a _ti_-leaf trumpet and went with her brother, and came close to the place where Laielohelohe was wont to string _lehua_ blossoms. Then Malio said to Halaaniani, "You climb up in the _lehua_ tree where you can see Laielohelohe, and there you stay. Listen to me play on the _ti_-leaf trumpet; when I have blown five times, if you see her turn her eyes to the place where the sound comes from, then we shall surely win, but if she does not look toward where I am playing, then we shall not win to-day." As they were speaking there was a crackling in the bushes at the place where Laielohelohe strung _lehua_ blossoms, and when they looked, there was Laielohelohe breaking _lehua_ blossoms. Then Halaaniani climbed up the trunk of a tree and kept watch. When he was up the tree, Malio's trumpet sounded, again it sounded a second time, so on until the fifth time, but Halaaniani did not see the girl turn her eyes or listen to the sound. Malio waited for Halaaniani to return and tell what he had seen, but as he did not return, Malio again blew on the trumpet five times; still Halaaniani did not see Laielohelohe pay the least attention until she went away altogether. Halaaniani came back and told his sister, and his sister said, "We have not won her with the trumpet; shall we try my nose flute?" The two returned home, and very early in the morning, they came again to the same place where they had lain in ambush before. No sooner were they arrived than Laielohelohe arrived also at her customary station. Malio had already instructed her brother, as follows: "Take _lehua_ flowers, bind them into a cluster, when you hear me playing the nose flute, then drop the bunch of flowers right over her; maybe she will be curious about this." Halaaniani climbed the tree right over where Laielohelohe was wont to sit. Just as Malio's nose flute sounded, Halaaniani dropped the bunch of _lehua_ flowers down from the tree, and it fell directly in front of Laielohelohe. Then Laielohelohe turned her eyes right upward, saying, "If you are a man who has sent me this gift and this music of the flute, then you are mine: if you are a woman, then you shall be my intimate friend." When Halaaniani heard this speech, he waited not a moment to descend and join his sister. To Malio's question he told her what he had seen. Said Malio to Halaaniani, "We will go home and early in the morning come here again, then we shall find out her intentions." They went home and returned early in the morning. When they had taken their stations, Laielohelohe came as usual to string _lehua_ blossoms. Then Malio sounded the flute, as Laielohelohe began to snip the _lehua_ blossoms, and she stopped, for her attention was attracted to the music. Three times Malio sounded the nose flute. Then said Laielohelohe, "If you are a woman who sounds the flute, then let us two kiss." At Laielohelohe's words, Malio approached Laielohelohe and the girl saw her, and she was a stranger to Laielohelohe's eyes. Then she started to kiss her. And as the girl was about to give the promised kiss, Malio said, "Let our kiss wait, first give my brother a kiss; when you two have done, then we will kiss." Then said Laielohelohe, "You and your brother may go away, do not bring him into my presence; you both go back to your own place and do not come here again. For it was only you I promised to greet with a kiss, no one else; should I do as you desire, I should disobey my good guardian's command." When Malio heard this she returned to her brother and said, "We have failed to-day, but I will try my supernatural arts to fulfill your desire." They went back to the house, then she directed Halaaniani to go and spy upon Laieikawai. When Halaaniani came to Keaau as his sister directed, he neither saw nor heard of Laieikawai. CHAPTER XXIV On his arrival there, Halaaniani heard there was to be a great day for Kakalukaluokewa, a day of celebration for the marriage of Laielohelohe with Kekalukaluokewa. And when he had carefully noted the day for the chief's wedding feast he returned and told his sister this thing. When Malio heard it she said to her brother, "On the marriage day of Kekalukaluokewa with Laielohelohe, on that day Laielohelohe shall be yours." Now Aiwohikupua's sisters were wont to go down to the sea at Keaau to keep watch for their husband, to make sure if he were dead or not. As Aiwohikupua's sisters were on the way to Keaau, they heard of the festival for Kekalukaluokewa and Laielohelohe. When the great day drew near, Waka went down from Paliuli to meet Kekalukaluokewa, and Waka said to Kekalukaluokewa: "To-morrow at sunrise call together all the people and the chiefs of the household to the place prepared for the celebration; there let all be assembled. Then go and show yourself first among them and near midday return to your house until day declines, then I will send a mist to cover the land, and the place where the people are assembled. "When the mist begins to close down over the land, then wait until you hear the birds singing and they cease; wait again until you hear the birds singing and they cease. "And after that I will lift the mist over the land. Then you will see up to Paliuli where the cloud rises and covers the mountain top, then the mist will fall again as before. "Wait this time until you hear the cry of the _alae_ bird, and the _ewaewaiki_ calling; then come out of the house and stand before the assembly. "Wait, and when the _oo_ birds call and cease, then I am prepared to send Laielohelohe. "When the voice of the _iiwipolena_ sounds, your wife is on the left side of the place of meeting. Soon after this, you will hear the land snails[67] singing, then do you two meet apart from the assembly. "And when you two meet, a single peal of thunder will crash, the earth tremble, the whole place of assembly shall shake. Then I will send you two on the birds, the clouds and mist shall rise, and there will be you two resting upon the birds in all your splendor. Then comes Laieikawai's disgrace, when she sees her shame and goes off afoot like a captive slave." After all this was arranged, Waka returned to Paliuli. Already has Halaaniani's expedition been described to look after his wife Laieikawai at Keaau, and already has it been told how he heard of the marriage celebration of Kekalukaluokewa and Laielohelohe. On the day when Waka went to Keaau to meet Kekalukaluokewa, as we have seen above, On that very day, Malio told Halaaniani to get ready to go down to the festival, saying: "To-morrow, at the marriage celebration of Kekalukaluokewa and Laielohelohe, then Laielohelohe shall be yours. For them shall crash the thunder, but when the clouds and mist clear away, then all present at the place of meeting shall behold you and Laielohelohe resting together upon the wings of birds." Early in the morning of the next day, the day of the chief's marriage celebration, Kihanuilulumoku was summoned into the presence of Aiwohikupua's sisters, the servants who guarded Laieikawai. When the lizard came, Kahalaomapuana said, "You have been summoned to take us down to the sea at Keaau to see Kekalukaluokewa's wedding feast. Be ready to take us down soon after the sun begins to decline." Kihanuilulumoku went away until the time appointed, then he came to them. And as the lizard started to come into his mistress's presence, lo! the land was veiled thick with mist up there at Paliuli, and all around, but Kihanuilulumoku did not hurry to his mistresses, for he knew when the chiefs' meeting was to take place. When Kekalukaluokewa saw this mist begin to descend over the land, then he remembered Waka's charge. He waited for the remaining signs. After hearing the voices of the _ewaewaiki_ and the land shells, then Kekalukaluokewa came out of his house and stood apart from the assembly. Just at that moment, Kihanuilulumoku stuck out his tongue as a seat for Laieikawai and Aiwohikupua's sisters. And when the voice of the thunder crashed, clouds and mist covered the land, and when it cleared, the place of meeting was to be seen; and there were Laielohelohe and Halaaniani resting upon the birds. Then also were seen Laieikawai and Aiwohikupua's sisters seated upon the tongue of Kihanuilulumoku, the great lizard of Paliuli. Now they arrived at the same instant as those for whom the day was celebrated; lo! Laieikawai saw that Halaaniani was not dead, and she remembered Kahalaomapuana's prediction. When Kekalukaluokewa saw Halaaniani and Laielohelohe resting on the birds, he thought he had lost Laielohelohe. So Kekalukaluokewa went up to Paliuli to tell Waka. And Kekalukaluokewa told Waka all these things, saying: "Halaaniani got Laielohelohe; there she was at the time set, she and Halaaniani seated together!" Said Waka, "He shall never get her; but let us go down and I will get close to the place of meeting; if she has given Halaaniani a kiss, the thing which I forbade her to grant, for to you alone is my grandchild's kiss devoted--if she has defiled herself with him, then we lose the wife, then take me to my grave without pity. But if she has harkened to my command not to trust anyone else; not even to open her lips to Halaaniani, then she is your wife, if my grandchild has harkened to my command." As they approached, Waka sent the clouds and mist over the assembly, and they could not distinguish one from another. Then Waka sent Kekalukaluokewa upon the birds, and when the clouds cleared, lo! Laielohelohe and Kekalukaluokewa sat together upon the birds. Then the congregation shouted all about the place of assembly: "The marriage of the chiefs! The marriage of the chiefs!"[68] When Waka heard the sound of shouting, then Waka came into the presence of the assembly and stood in the midst of the congregation and taunted Laieikawai. When Laieikawai heard Waka's taunts, her heart smarted and the hearts of every one of Aiwohikupua's sisters with her; then Kihanuilulumoku bore them back on his tongue to dwell in the uplands of Olaa; thus did Laieikawai begin to burn with shame at Waka's words, and she and her companions went away together. On that day, Kekalukaluokewa wedded Laielohelohe, and they went up to the uplands of Paliuli until their return to Kauai. And Halaaniani became a vagabond; nothing more remains to be said about him. And when the chief resolved to return to Kauai, he took his wife and their grandmother to Kauai, and the men together with them. When they were ready to return, they left Keaau, went first to Honouliuli on Oahu and there took Kapukaihaoa with them to Kauai; and they went to Kauai, to Pihanakalani, and turned over the rule over the land and its divisions to Kapukaihaoa, and Waka was made the third heir to the chief's seat. At this place let us tell of Laieikawai and her meeting with the prophet, Hulumaniani. Laieikawai was at Olaa as beautiful as ever, but the art of resting on the wings of birds was taken away from her; nevertheless some of her former power remained and the signs of her chiefly rank, according to the authority the sisters of Aiwohikupua had over the lizard. CHAPTER XXV When Laieikawai returned from Keaau after Waka had disgraced her, and dwelt at Olaa, then Aiwohikupua's sisters consulted how to comfort the heavy heart of the princess, Laieikawai, for her shame at Waka's reproaches. They went and told Laieikawai their decision, saying: "O princess of peace, we have agreed upon something to relieve your burden of shame, for not you alone bear the burden; all of us share your trouble. "Therefore, princess, we beseech you, best ease your heart of sorrow; good fortune shall be yours hereafter. "We have agreed here to share your fortune; our younger sister has consented to go and get Kaonohiokala for your husband, the boy chief who dwells in the taboo house at the borders of Tahiti, a brother of ours, through whom Aiwohikupua gained the rank of chief. "If you will consent to your brother being fetched, then we shall win greater honor than was ours before, and you will become a sacred person of great dignity so that you can not associate with us; now this is what we have thought of; you consent, then your reproach is lifted, Waka is put to shame." Said Laieikawai, "Indeed I would consent to ease my burden of shame, only one thing I will not consent to--my becoming your brother's wife; for you say he is a taboo chief, and if we should be united, I should not see you again, so high a chief is he, and this I should regret exceedingly, our friendship together." Said her companions, "Do not think of us; consider your grandmother's taunts; when her reproach is lifted, then we are happy, for we think first of you." And for this reason Laieikawai gave her consent. Then Kahalaomapuana left directions with Laieikawai and her sisters, saying: "I go to get our brother as husband for the princess; your duty is to take good care of our mistress; wherever she goes, there you go, whatever she wishes, that is yours to fulfill; but let her body be kept pure until I return with our brother." After saying all this, Kahalaomapuana left her sisters and was borne on the back of the big lizard Kihanuilulumoku and went to fetch Kaonohiokala. At this place we will leave off speaking of this journey; we must tell about Laieikawai and her meeting with the prophet who followed her from Kauai hither, as related in the first two chapters of this story. After Kahalaomapuana left her sisters, the desire grew within Laieikawai's mind to travel around Hawaii. So her companions carried out the chief's wish and they set out to travel around about Hawaii. On the princess's journey around Hawaii they went first to Kau, then Kona, until they reached Kaiopae in Kohala, on the right-hand side of Kawaihae, about five miles distant; there they stayed several days for the princess to rest. During the days they were there the seer saw the rainbow arching over the sea as if right at Kawaihae. The uplands of Ouli at Waimea was the place the seer looked from. For in former chapters it has been told how the seer came to Hilo, to Kaiwilahilahi, and lived there some years waiting for the sign he was seeking. But when it did not come to the seer as he waited for the sign he was seeking, then he waited and sought no longer for the sign he had followed from Kauai to this place. So he left Hilo, intending to go all the way back to Kauai, and he set out. On his return, he did not leave the offerings which he had brought from Kauai thither, the pig and the cock. When he reached Waimea, at Ouli, there he saw the rainbow arching over the sea at Kawaihae. And the seer was so weary he was not quick to recognize the rainbow, but he stayed there, and on the next day he did not see the sign again. Next day the seer left the place, the very day when Laieikawai's party left Kaiopae, and came back above Kahuwa and stopped at Moolau. When the seer reached Puuloa from Waimea, he saw the rainbow arching over Moolau; then the seer began to wonder, "Can that be the sign I came to seek?" The seer kept right on up to the summit of Palalahuakii. There he saw the rainbow plainly and recognized it, and knew it was the sign he was seeking. Then he prayed to his god to interpret the rainbow to him, but his god did not answer his prayer. The seer left that place, went to Waika and stayed there, for it was then dark. In the early morning, lo! the rainbow arched over the sea at Kaiopae, for Laieikawai had gone back there. Then the seer went away to the place where he had seen the rainbow, and, approaching, he saw Laieikawai plainly, strolling along the sea beach. A strange sight the beautiful woman was, and there, directly above the girl, the rainbow bent. Then the seer prayed to his god to show him whether this woman was the one he was seeking or not, but he got no answer that day. Therefore, the seer did not lay down his offering before Laieikawai. The seer returned and stayed above Waika. The next day the seer left the place, went to Lamaloloa and remained there. Then he went repeatedly into the temple of Pahauna and there prayed unceasingly to his god. After a number of days at Moolau, Laieikawai and her companions left that place. They came and stayed at Puakea and, because the people of the place were surf riding, gladly remained. The next day at noon, when the sun shone clear over the land, the prophet went outside the temple after his prayer. Lo! he saw the rainbow bending over the sea at Puakea, and he went away thither, and saw the same girl whom he had seen before at Kaiopae. So he fell back to a distance to pray again to his god to show him if this was the one he was seeking, but he got no answer that day; and, because his god did not answer his petition, he almost swore at his god, but still he persevered. He approached the place where Laieikawai and her sisters were sitting. The seer was greatly disturbed at seeing Laieikawai, and when he had reached the spot, he asked Laieikawai and her companions, "Why do you sit here? Why do you not go surfing with the natives of the place?" The princess answered, "We can not go; it is better to watch the others." The seer asked again, "What are you doing here?" "We are sitting here, waiting for a canoe to carry us to Maui, Molokai, Oahu, and to Kauai, then we shall set sail," so they answered. To this the seer replied, "If you are going to Kauai, then here is my canoe, a canoe without pay." Said Laieikawai, "If we go on board your canoe, do you require anything of us?" The seer answered, "Where are you? Do not suppose I have asked you on board my canoe in order to defile you; but my wish is to take you all as my daughters; such daughters as you can make my name famous, for my name will live in the saying, 'The daughters of Hulumaniani,' so my name shall live; is not this enough to desire?" Then the seer sought a canoe and found a double canoe with men to man it. Early in the morning of the next day they went on board the canoe and sailed and rested at Honuaula on Maui, and from there to Lahaina, and the next day to Molokai; they left Molokai, went to Laie, Koolauloa, and stayed there some days. On the day of their arrival at Laie, that night, Laieikawai said to her companions and to her foster father: "I have heard from my grandmother that this is my birthplace; we were twins, and because our father had killed the first children our mother bore, because they were girls, when we also were born girls, then I was hidden within a pool of water; there I was brought up by my grandmother. "And my twin, the priest guarded her, and because the priest who guarded my companion saw the prophet who had come here from Kauai to see us, therefore the priest commanded my grandmother to flee far away; and this was why I was carried away to Paliuli and why we met there." CHAPTER XXVI When the seer heard this story the seer saw plainly that this was the very one he sought. But in order to make sure, the seer withdrew to a distance and prayed to his god to confirm the girl's story. After praying he came back and went to sleep, and as he slept the seer received the assurance in a vision from his god, saying, "The time has come to fulfill your wishes, to free you from the weariness of your long search. She is here--the one who told you her story; this is the one you are seeking. "Therefore arise and take the offering you have prepared and lay it before her, having blessed her in the name of your god. "This done, linger not; carry them at once to Kauai, this very night, and let them dwell on the cliffs of Haena in the uplands of Honopuwaiakua." At this the seer awoke from his dream; he arose and brought the pig and the cock and held them out to Laieikawai, saying, "Blessed am I, my mistress, that my god has shown you to me, for long have I followed you to win a blessing from you. "And therefore I beseech you to guard these bones under your special favor, my mistress, and to leave this trust to your descendants unto the last generation." Laieikawai answered, "Father, the time of my prosperity has passed, for Waka has taken her favor from me; but hereafter I shall win honor beyond my former honor and glory; then you shall also rise to prosperity with us." And after these things the prophet did as his god commanded--sailed that night and dwelt in the place commanded. Many days the seer lived here with his daughter above Honopuwaiakua. At one time the seer made one of his customary journeys. As he traveled in his character as seer he came to Wailua. Lo! all the virgin daughters of Kauai were gathered together, all of the rank of chief with the girls of well-to-do families, at the command of Aiwohikupua to bring the virgins before the chief, the one who pleased the chief to become the wife of Aiwohikupua. When the seer came within the crowd, lo! the maidens were assembled in one place before the chief. The seer asked some one in the crowd, "What is this assembly for and why are all these maidens standing in a circle before the chief?" He was told, "All the virgins have been summoned by the chief's command, and the two who please Aiwohikupua, these he will take for his wives in place of Poliahu and Hinaikamalama, and their parents are to be clothed in feather cloaks." Then the seer stood before the chiefs and all the assembly and cried in a loud voice: "O chiefs, it is a wise and good thing for the chief to take whichever one of these virgins pleases him, but not one of these can fill the loss of Poliahu and Hinaikamalama. "If any one of these virgins here could compare in beauty with the left leg of my daughters, then she would be worth it. These are pretty enough, but not like my daughters." Said Aiwohikupua in an angry voice, "When did we ever know that you had daughters!" And those who had brought their daughters before the chief looked upon the seer as an enemy. And to the chief's angry words the seer replied, "Did I not seek diligently and alone for a ruler over all these islands? And this lord of the land, she is my daughter, and my other daughters, they are my lord's sisters. "Should my daughter come hither and stand upon the sea, the ocean would be in tumult; if on land, the wind would blow, the sun be darkened, the rain fall, the thunder crash, the lightning flash, the mountain tremble, the land would be flooded, the ocean reddened, at the coming of my daughter and lord." And the seer's words spread, fear through the assembly. But those whose virgin daughters were present were not pleased. They strongly urged the chief, therefore, to bind him within the house of detention, the prison house, where the chief's enemies were wont to be imprisoned. Through the persistence of his enemies, it was decided to make the seer fast within that place and let him stay there until he died. On the day of his imprisonment, that night at dawn, he prayed to his god. And at early daybreak the door of the house was opened for him and he went out without being seen. In the morning the chief sent the executioner to go and see how the prophet fared in prison. When the executioner came to the outside of the prison, he called with a loud voice: "O Hulumaniani! O Hulumaniani! Prophet of God! How are you? Are you dead?" Three times the executioner called, but heard not a sound from within. The executioner returned to the chief and said, "The prophet is dead." Then the chief commanded the head man of the temple to make ready for the day of sacrifice and flay the prophet on the place of sacrifice before the altar. Now the seer heard this command from some distance away, and in the night he took a banana plant covered with _tapa_ like a human figure and put it inside the place where he had been imprisoned, and went back and joined his daughters and told them all about his troubles. And near the day of sacrifice at the temple, the seer took Laieikawai and her companions on board of the double canoe. In the very early morning of the day of sacrifice at the temple the man was to be brought for sacrifice, and when the head men of the temple entered the prison, lo! the body was tightly wrapped up, and it was brought and laid within the temple. And close to the hour when the man was to be laid upon the altar all the people assembled and the chief with them; and the chief went up on the high place, the banana plant was brought and laid directly under the altar. Said the chief to his head men, "Unwrap the _tapa_ from the body and place it upon the altar prepared for it." When it was unwrapped there was a banana plant inside, not the prophet, as was expected. "This is a banana plant! Where is the prophet?" exclaimed the chief. Great was the chief's anger against the keeper of the prison where the prophet was confined. Then all the keepers were called to trial. While the chief's keepers were being examined, the seer arrived with his daughters in a double canoe and floated outside the mouth of the inlet. The seer stood on one canoe and Aiwohikupua's sisters on the other, and Laieikawai stood on the high seat between, under the symbols of a taboo chief. As they stood there with Laieikawai, the wind blew, the sun was darkened, the sea grew rough, the ocean was reddened, the streams went back and stopped at their sources, no water flowed into the sea.[69] After this the seer took Laieikawai's skirt[70] and laid it down on the land; then the thunder crashed, the temple fell, the altar crumbled. After all these signs had been displayed, Aiwohikupua and the others saw Laieikawai standing above the canoes under the symbol of a taboo chief. Then the assembly shouted aloud, "O the beautiful woman! O the beautiful woman! How stately she stands!" Then the men ran in flocks from the land down to the sea beach; one trampled on another in order to see. Then the seer called out to Aiwohikupua, "Your keepers are not guilty; not by their means was I freed from prison, but by my god, who has saved me from many perils; and this is my lord. "I spoke truly; this is my daughter, my lord, whom I went to seek, my preserver." And when Aiwohikupua looked upon Laieikawai his heart trembled, and he fell to the ground as if dead. When the chief recovered he commanded his head man to bring the seer and his daughter to fill the place of Poliahu and Hinaikamalama. The head man went and called out to the seer on the canoe and told him the chief's word. When the seer heard it he said to the head man, "Return and tell the chief, my lord indeed, that my lordly daughter shall never become his wife; she is chief over all the islands." The head man went away; the seer, too, went away with his daughters, nor was he seen again after that at Wailua; they returned and dwelt at Honopuwaiakua. CHAPTER XXVII In this chapter we will tell how Kahalaomapuana went to get Kaonohiokala, the Eyeball-of-the-Sun, the betrothed husband of Laieikawai, and of her return. After Kahalaomapuana had laid her commands upon her sisters she made preparation for the journey. At the rising of the sun Kahalaomapuana entered inside Kihanuilulumoku and swam through the ocean and came to The Shining Heavens; in four months and ten days they reached Kealohilani. When they arrived they did not see Mokukelekahiki, the guard who watches over Kaonohiokala's wealth, his chief counsellor in The Shining Heavens; twice ten days they waited for Mokukelekahiki to return from his garden patch. Mokukelekahiki returned while the lizard was asleep inside the house; the head alone filled that great house of Mokukelekahiki's, the body and tail of the lizard were still in the sea. A terrible sight to Mokukelekahiki to see that lizard; he flew away up to Nuumealani, the Raised Place in the Heavens; there was Kaeloikamalama, the magician who closes the door of the taboo house on the borders of Tahiti, where Kaonohiokala was hidden. Mokukelekahiki told Kaeloikamalama how he had seen the lizard. Then Kaeloikamalama flew down with Mokukelekahiki from the heights of Nuumealani, the land in the air. As Mokukelekahiki and his companion approached the house where the lizard was sleeping, then said Kihanuilulumoku to Kahalaomapuana, "When those men get here who are flying toward us, then I will throw you out and land you on Kaeloikamalama's neck, and when he questions you, then tell him you are a child of theirs, and when he asks what our journey is for, then tell him." Not long after, Mokukelekahiki and Kaeloikamalama thundered at the door of the house. When the lizard looked, there stood Kaeloikamalama with the digging spade called Kapahaelihonua, The Knife-that-cuts-the-earth, twenty fathoms its length, four men to span it. Thought the lizard, "A slaughterer this." There was Kaeloikamalama swinging the digging spade in his fingers. Then Kihanuilulumoku lifted his tail out of the water, the sea swelled, the waves overwhelmed the cliffs from their foundations as high waves sweep the coast in February; the spume of the sea rose high, the sun was darkened, white sand was flung on the shore. Then fear fell upon Kaeloikamalama and his companion, and they started to run away from before the face of the lizard. Then Kihanuilulumoku threw out Kahalaomapuana, and she fell upon Kaeloikamalama's neck.[71] Kaeloikamalama asked, "Whose child are you?" Said Kahalaomapuana, "The child of Mokuekelekahiki, of Kaeloikamalama, of the magicians who guard the taboo house on the borders of Tahiti."[72] The two asked, "On what journey, my child, do you come hither?" Kahalaomapuana answered, "A journey to seek one from the heavens." Again they asked, "To seek what one from the heavens?" "Kaonohiokala," replied Kahalaomapuana, "the high taboo one of Kaeloikamalama and Mokukelekahiki." Again they asked, "Kaonohiokala found, what is he to do?" Said Kahalaomapuana, "To be husband to the princess of broad Hawaii, to Laieikawai, our mistress." Again they asked, "Who are you?" She told them, "Kahalaomapuana, the youngest daughter of Moanalihaikawaokele and Laukieleula."[73] When Mokukelekahiki and Kaeloikamalama heard she was their own child, then they released her from Kaeloikamalama's neck and kissed their daughter. For Mokukelekahiki and Kaeloikamalama were brothers of Laukieleula, Aiwohikupua's mother. Said Kaeloikamalama, "We will show you the road, then you shall ascend." For ten days they journeyed before they reached the place to go up; Kaeloikamalama called out, "O Lanalananuiaimakua! Great ancestral spider. Let down the road here for me to go up!! There is trouble below!!!" Not long after, Great ancestral spider let down a spider-web that made a network in the air. Then Kaeloikamalama instructed her, saying, "Here is your way, ascend to the top, and you will see a house standing alone in a garden patch; there is Moanalihaikawaokele; the country is Kahakaekaea. "When you see an old man with long gray hair, that is Moanalihaikawaokele; if he is sitting up, don't be hasty; should he spy you first, you will die, he will not listen to you, he will take you for another. "Wait until he is asleep; should he turn his face down he is not asleep, but when you see him with the face turned up, he is really asleep; then approach not the windward, go to the leeward, and sit upon his breast, holding tight to his beard, then call out: "O Moanalihaikawaokele--O! Here am I--your child, Child of Laukieleula, Child of Mokukelekahiki, Child of Kaeloikamalama, The brothers of my mother, Mother, mother, Of me and my older sisters And my brother, Aiwohikupua, Grant me the sight, the long sight, the deep sight, Release the one in the heavens, My brother and lord, Awake! Arise! "So you must call to him, and if he questions you, then, tell him about your journey here. "On the way up, if fine rain covers you, that is your mother's doings; if cold comes, do not be afraid. Keep on up; and if you smell a fragrance, that too is your mother's, it is her fragrance, then all is well, you are almost to the top; keep on up, and if the sun's rays pierce and the heat strikes you, do not fear when you feel the sun's hot breath; try to bear it and you will enter the shadow of the moon; then you will not die, you have entered Kahakaekaea." When they had finished talking, Kahalaomapuana climbed up, and in the evening she was covered with fine rain; this she thought was her father's doings; at night until dawn she smelled the fragrance of the _kiele_ plant; this she thought was her mother's art; from dawn until the sun was high she was in the heat of the sun, she thought this was her brother's doing. Then she longed to reach the shadow of the moon, and at evening she came into the shadow of the moon; she knew then that she had entered the land called Kahakaekaea. She saw the big house standing, it was then night. She approached to the leeward; lo! Moanalihaikawaokele was still awake; she waited at a distance for him to go to sleep, as Kaeloikamalama had instructed her. Still Moanalihaikawaokele did not sleep. When at dawn she went, Moanalihaikawaokele's face was turned upwards, she knew he was asleep; she ran quickly and seized her father's beard and called to him in the words taught her by Kaeloikamalama, as shown above. Moanalihaikawaokele awoke; his beard, the place where his strength lay, was held fast; he struggled to free himself; Kahalaomapuana held the beard tight; he kept on twisting here and there until his breath was exhausted. He asked, "Whose child are you?" Said she, "Yours." Again he asked, "Mine by whom?" She answered, "Yours by Laukieleula." Again he asked, "Who are you?" "It is Kahalaomapuana." Said the father, "Let go my beard; you are indeed my child." She let go, and the father arose and set her upon his lap and wailed, and when he had ended wailing, the father asked, "On what journey do you come hither?" "A journey to seek one from the heavens," answered Kahalaomapuana. "To seek what one from the heavens?" "Kaonohiokala," the girl answered. "The high one found, what is he to do?" Said Kahalaomapuana, "I have come to get my brother and lord to be the husband to the princess of broad Hawaii, to Laieikawai, our royal friend, the one who protects us." She related all that her brother had done, and their friend. Said Moanalihaikawaokele, "The consent is not mine to give, your mother is the only one to grant it, the one who has charge of the chief; she lives there in the taboo place prohibited to me. When your mother is unclean, she returns to me, and when her days of uncleanness are over, then she leaves me, she goes back to the chief. "Therefore, wait until the time comes when your mother returns, then tell her on what journey you have come hither." They waited seven days; it was Laukieleula's time of uncleanness. Said Moanalihaikawaokele, "It is almost time for your mother to come, so to-night, get to the taboo house first and sleep there; in the early morning when she comes, you will be sleeping in the house; there is no place for her to go to get away from you, because she is unclean. If she questions you, tell her exactly what you have told me." That night Moanalihaikawaokele sent Kahalaomapuana into the house set apart for women. CHAPTER XXVIII Very early in the morning came Laukieleula; when she saw someone sleeping there, she could not go away because she was unclean and that house was the only one open to her. "Who are you, lawless one, mischief-maker, who have entered my taboo house, the place prohibited to any other?" So spoke the mistress of the house. Said the stranger, "I am Kahalaomapuana, the last fruit of your womb." Said the mother, "Alas! my ruler, return to your father. I can not see you, for my days of uncleanness have come; when they are ended, we will visit together a little, then go." So Kahalaomapuana went back to Moanalihaikawaokele; the father asked, "How was it?" The daughter said, "She told me to return to you until her days of uncleanness were ended, then she would come to see me." Three days the two stayed there; close to the time when Laukieleula's uncleanness would end, Moanalihaikawaokele said to his daughter, "Come! for your mother's days are almost ended; to-morrow, early in the morning before daylight, go and sit by the water hole where she washes herself; do not show yourself, and when she jumps into the pool and dives under the water, then run and bring hither her skirt and her polluted clothes; when she has bathed and returns for the clothes, they will be gone; then she will think that I have taken them; when she comes to the house, then you can get what you wish. "If you two weep and cease weeping and she asks you if I have taken her clothes, then tell her you have them, and she will be ashamed and shrink from you because she has defiled you; then she will have nothing great enough to recompense you for your defilement, only one thing will be great enough, to get you the high one; then when she asks you what you desire, tell her; then you shall see your brother; we shall both see him, for I see him only once a year; he peeps out and disappears." At the time the father had said, the daughter arose very early in the morning before daylight, and went as her father had directed. When she arrived, she hid close to the water hole; not long after, the mother came, took off her polluted clothes and sprang into the water. Then the girl took the things as directed and returned to her father. She had not been there long; the mother came in a rage; Moanalihaikawaokele absented himself and only the daughter remained in the house. "O Moanalihaikawaokele, give me back my polluted clothes, let me take them to wash in the water." No answer; three times she called, not once an answer; she peeped into the house where Kahalaomapuana lay sleeping, her head covered with a clean piece of _tapa_. She called, "O Moanalihaikawaokele, give me back my polluted skirt; let me take it to wash in the water." Then Kahalaomapuana started up as if she had been asleep and said to her mother, "My mother and ruler, he has gone; only I am in the house; that polluted skirt of yours, here it is." "Alas! my ruler. I shrink with fear of evil for you, because you have guarded my skirt that was polluted; what recompense is there for the evil I fear for you, my ruler?" She embraced the girl and wailed out the words in the line above. When she had ceased wailing, the mother asked, "On what journey do you come hither to us?" "I come to get my older brother for a husband for our friend, the princess of the great broad land of Hawaii, Laieikawai, our protector when we were lovelessly deserted by our older brother; therefore we are ashamed; we have no way to repay the princess for her protection; and for this reason permit me and my princely brother to go down below and bring Laieikawai up here." These were Kahalaomapuana's words to her mother. The mother said, "I grant it in recompense for your guarding my polluted garment. "If anyone else had come to get him, I would not have consented; since you come in person, I will not keep him back. "Indeed, your brother has said that you are the one he loves best and thinks the most of; so let us go up and see your brother. "Now you wait here; let me call the bird guardian of you two, who will bear us to the taboo house at the borders of Tahiti." Then the mother called: O Halulu at the edge of the light, The bird who covers the sun, The heat returns to Kealohilani. The bird who stops up the rain, The stream-heads are dry of Nuumealani. The bird who holds back the clouds above, The painted clouds move across the ocean, The islands are flooded, Kahakaekaea trembles, The heavens flood not the earth. O the lawless ones, the mischief makers! O Mokukelekahiki! O Kaeloikamalama! The lawless ones who close the taboo house at the borders of Tahiti, Here is one from the heavens, a child of yours, Come and receive her, take her above to Awakea, the noonday. Then that bird[71] drooped its wings down and its body remained aloft, then Laukieleula and Kahalaomapuana rested upon the bird's wings and it flew and came to Awakea, the Noonday, the one who opens the door of the sun where Kaonohiokala lived. At the time they arrived, the entrance to the chief's house was blocked by thunderclouds. Then Laukieleula ordered Noonday, "Open the way to the chief's place!" Then Noonday put forth her heat and the clouds melted before her; lo! the chief appeared sleeping right in the eye of the sun in the fire of its intensest heat, so he was named after this custom The Eye of the Sun. Then Laukieleula seized hold of one of the sun's rays and held it. Then the chief awoke. When Kohalaomapuana looked upon her brother his eyes were like lightning and his skin all over his body was like the heat, of the furnace where iron is melted. Laukieleula cried out, "O my heavenly one, here is your sister, Kahalaomapuana, the one you love best, here she is come to seek you." When Kaonohiokala heard he awoke from sleep and signed with his eyes to Laukieleula to call the guards of the shade. She called: O big bright moon, O moving cloud of Kaialea, Guards of the shadows, present yourselves before the chief. Then the guards of the shade came and stood before the chief. Lo! the heat of the sun left the chief. When the shadows came over the place where the chief lay, then he called his sister, and went to her, and wept over her, for his heart fainted with love for his youngest sister, and long had been the days of their separation. When their wailing was ended he asked, "Whose child are you?" Said the sister, "Mokukelekahiki's, Kaeloikamalama's, Moanalihaikawaokele's through Laukieleula." Again the brother asked, "What is your journey for?" Then she told him the same thing she had told the mother. When the chief heard these things, he turned to their mother and asked, "Laukieleula, do you consent to my going to get the one whom she speaks of for my wife?" "I have already given you, as she requested me; if anyone else had brought her to get you, if she had not come to us two, she might have stayed below; grant your little sister's request, for you first opened the pathway, she closed it; no one came before, none after her." Thus the mother. After this answer Kaonohiokala asked further about her sisters and her brother. Then said Kahalaomapuana, "My brother has not done right; he has opposed our living with this woman whom I am come to get you for. When he first went to woo this woman he came back again after us; we went with him and came to the woman's house, the princess of whom I speak. That night we went to the uplands; in the midst of the forest there she dwelt with her grandmother. We stood outside and looked at the workmanship of Laieikawai's house, inwrought with the yellow feathers of the _oo_ bird. "Mailehaiwale went to woo her, gained nothing, the woman refused; Mailekaluhea went, gained nothing at all; Mailelaulii went, gained nothing at all; Mailepakaha went, gained nothing at all; she refused them all; I remained, I never went to woo her; he went away in a rage leaving us in the jungle. "When he left us, we followed; our brother's rage waxed as if we had denied his wish. "Then it was we returned to where he left us, and the princess protected us, until I left to come hither; that is how we live." When Kaonohiokala heard this story, he was angry. Then he said to Kahalaomapuana, "Return to your sisters and to your friend, the princess; my wife she shall be; wait, and when the rain falls and floods the land, I am still here. "When the ocean billows swell and the surf throws white sand on the shore, I am still here; when the wind whips the air and for ten days lies calm, when thunder peals without rain, then I am at Kahakaekaea. "When the dry thunder peals again, then ceases, I have left the taboo house at the borders of Tahiti. I am at Kealohilani, my divine body is laid aside, only the nature of a taboo chief remains, and I am become a human being like you. "After this, hearken, and when the thunder rolls, the rain pours down, the ocean swells, the land is flooded, the lightning flashes, a mist overhangs, a rainbow arches, a colored cloud rises on the ocean, for one month bad weather closes down,[75] when the storm clears, there I am behind the mountain in the shadow of the dawn. "Wait here and at daybreak, when I leave the summit of the mountain, then you shall see me sitting within the sun in the center of its ring of light, encircled by the rainbow of a chief. "Still we shall not yet meet; our meeting shall be in the dusk of evening, when the moon rises on the night of full moon; then I will meet my wife. "After our marriage, then I will bring destruction over the earth upon those who have done you wrong. "Therefore, take a sign for Laieikawai, a rainbow; thus shall I know my wife." These words ended, she returned by the same way that she had climbed up, and within one month found Kihanuilulumoku and told all briefly, "We are all right; we have prospered." She entered into Kihanuilulumoku and swam over the ocean; as many days as they were in going, so many were they in returning. They came to Olaa. Laieikawai and her companions were gone; the lizard smelled all about Hawaii; nothing. They went to Maui; the lizard smelled about; not a trace. He sniffed about Kahoolawe, Lanai, Molokai. Just the same. They came to Kauai; the lizard sniffed about the coast, found nothing; sniffed inland; there they were, living at Honopuwaiakua, and Kihanuilulumoku threw forth Kahalaomapuana. The princess and her sisters saw her and rejoiced, but a stranger to the seer was this younger sister, and he was terrified at sight of the lizard; but because he was a prophet, he stilled his fear. Eleven months, ten days, and four days over it was since Kahalaomapuana left Laieikawai and her companions until their return from The-shining-heavens. CHAPTER XXIX When Kahalaomapuana returned from Kealohilani, from her journey in search of a chief, she related the story of her trip, of its windings and twistings, and all the things she had seen while she was away. When she recited the charge given her by Kaonohiokala, Laieikawai said to her companions, "O comrades, as Kahalaomapuana tells me the message of your brother and my husband, a strange foreboding weighs upon me, and I am amazed; I supposed him to be a man, a mighty god that! When I think of seeing him, however I may desire it, I am ready to die with fear before he has even come to us." Her companions answered, "He is no god; he is a man like us, yet in his nature and appearance godlike. He was the first-born of us; he was greatly beloved by our parents; to him was given superhuman powers which we have not, except Kahalaomapuana; only they two were given this power; his taboo rank still remains; therefore, do not fear; when he comes, you will see he is only a man like us." Now, before Kahalaomapuana's return from Kealohilani, the seer foresaw what was to take place, one month before her return. Then the seer prophesied, in these words: "A blessing descends upon us from the heavens when the nights of full moon come. "When we hear the thunder peal in dry weather and in wet, then we shall see over the earth rain and lightning, billows swell on the ocean, freshets on the land, land and sea covered thick with fog, fine mist and rain, and the beating of the ocean rain. "When this passes, on the day of full moon, in the dusk of the early morning, at the time when the sun's rays strike the mountain tops, then the earth shall behold a youth sitting within the eye of the sun, one like the taboo child of my god. Afterwards the earth shall behold a great destruction and shall see all the haughty snatched away out of the land; then we shall be blessed, and our seed." When his daughters heard the seer's prophecy, they wondered within themselves that he should prophesy at this distance, without knowing anything about their sister's mission for which they waited. As a prophet it was his privilege to proclaim about Kauai those things which he saw would come to pass. So, before leaving his daughters, he commanded them and said, "My daughters, I am giving you my instructions before leaving you, not, indeed, for long; but I go to announce those things which I have told you, and shall return hither. Therefore, dwell here in this place, which my god has pointed out to me, and keep yourselves pure until my prophecy is fulfilled." The prophet went away, as he had determined, and he went into the presence of the chiefs and men of position, at the place where the chiefs were assembled; there he proclaimed what he had seen. And first he came to Aiwohikupua and said, "From this day, erect flag signals around your dwelling, and bring inside all whom you love. "For there comes shortly a destruction over the earth; never has any destruction been seen before like this which is to come; never will any come hereafter when this destruction of which I tell is ended. "Before the coming of the wonder-worker he will give you a sign of destruction, not over all the people of the land, but over you yourself and your people; then the high ones of earth shall lie down before him and your pride shall be taken from you. "If you listen to my word, then you will be spared from the destruction that is verily to come; therefore, prepare yourselves at once." And because of the seer's words, he was driven away from before the face of the chief. Thus he proclaimed to all the chiefs on Kauai, and the chiefs who listened to the seer, they were spared. He went to Kekalukaluokewa, with his wife and all in their company. And as he said to Aiwohikupua, so he said to Kekalukaluokewa, and he believed him. But Waka would not listen, and answered, "If a god is the one to bring destruction, then I have another god to save me and my chiefs." And at Waka's words the seer turned to the chiefs and said, "Do not listen to your grandmother, for a great destruction is coming over the chiefs. Plant flag signals at once around you, and bring all dear to you inside the signals you have set up, and whoever will not believe me, let them fall in the great day of destruction. "When that day comes, the old women will lie down before the soles of the feet of that mighty youth, and plead for life, and not get it, because they have disbelieved the words of the prophet." And because Kekalukaluokewa knew that his former prophecies had been fulfilled, therefore he rejected the old woman's counsel. When the seer left the chief planted flag signals all around the palace and stayed within the protected place as the prophet had commanded. At the end of his circuit, the seer returned and dwelt with his daughters. For no other reason than love did the seer go to tell those things which he saw. He had been back one day with his daughters at Honopuwaiakua when Kahalaomapuana arrived, as described in the chapter before. CHAPTER XXX Ten days after Kahalaomapuana's return from Kealohilani came the first of their brother's promised signs. So the signs began little by little during five days, and on the sixth day the thunder cracked, the rain poured down, the ocean billows swelled, the land was flooded, the lightning flashed, the mist closed down, the rainbow arched, the colored cloud rose over the ocean. Then the seer said, "My daughters, the time is come when my prophecy is fulfilled as I declared it to you." The daughters answered, "This is what we have been whispering about, for first you told us these things while Kahalaomapuana had not yet returned, and since her return she has told us the same thing again." Said Laieikawai, "I tremble and am astonished, and how can my fear be stilled?" "Fear not; be not astonished; we shall prosper and become mighty ones among the islands round about; none shall be above us; and you shall rule over the land, and those who have done evil against you shall flee from you and be chiefs no more. "For this have I followed you persistently through danger and cost and through hard weariness, and I see prosperity for me and for my seed to be mine through you." One month of bad weather over the land as the last sign; in the early morning when the rays of the sun rose above the mountain, Kaonohiokala was seen sitting within the smoking heat of the sun, right in the middle of the sun's ring, encircled with rainbows and a red mist. Then the sound of shouting was heard all over Kauai at the sight of the beloved child of Moanalihaikawaokele and Laukieleula, the great high chief of Kahakaekaea and Nuumealani. Behold! a voice shouting, "The beloved of Hulumaniani! the wonderful prophet! Hulumaniani! Give us life!" From morning until evening the shouting lasted, until they were hoarse and could only point with their hands and nod their heads, for they were hoarse with shouting for Kaonohiokala. Now, as Kaonohiokala looked down upon the earth, lo! Laieikawai was clothed in the rainbow garment his sister, Kahalaomapuana, had brought her; then through this sign he recognized Laieikawai as his betrothed wife. In the dusk of the evening, at the rising of the bright full moon, he entered the prophet's inclosure. When he came, all his sisters bowed down before him, and the prophet before the Beloved. And Laieikawai was about to do the same; when, the Beloved saw Laieikawai about to kneel he cried out, "O my wife and ruler! O Laieikawai! do not kneel, we are equals." "My lord, I am amazed and tremble, and if you desire to take my life, it is well; for never have I met before with anyone so terrible as this!" answered Laieikawai. "I have not come to take your life, but on my sister's visit to me I gave her a sign for me to know you by and recognize you as my betrothed wife; and therefore have I come to fulfill her mission," so said Kaonohiokala. When his sisters and the seer heard, then they shouted with joyful voices, "Amen! Amen! Amen! it is finished, flown beyond!". They rose up with joy in their eyes. Then he called to his sisters, "I take my wife and at this time of the night will come again hither." Then his wife was caught away out of sight of her companions, but the prophet had a glimpse of her being carried on the rainbow to dwell within the moon; there they took in pledge their moments of bliss. And the next night when the moon shone bright, at the time when its light decreased, a rainbow was let down, fastened to the moon and reaching to the earth; when the moon was directly over Honopuwaiakua, then the chiefs appeared above in the sky in their majesty and stood before the prophet, saying: "Go and summon all the people for ten days to gather together in one place; then I will declare my wrath against those who have done you wrong. "At the end of ten days, then we shall meet again, and I will tell you what is well for you to do, and my sisters with you." When these words were ended the seer went away, and when he had departed the five sisters were taken up to dwell with the wife in the shelter of the moon. On the seer's circuit, according to the command of the Beloved, he did not encounter a single person, for all had gone up to Pihanakalani, the place where it had been predicted that victory should be accomplished. After ten days the seer returned to Honopuwaiakua; lo! it was deserted. Then Kaonohiokala met him, and the seer told him about the circuit he had made at the Beloved's command. Then the prophet was taken up also to dwell in the moon. And in the morning of the next day, at sunrise, when the hot rays of the sun rose over the mountains, Then the Beloved began to punish Aiwohikupua and Waka. To Waka he meted out death, and Aiwohikupua was punished by being deprived of all his wealth, to wander like a vagrant over the earth until the end of his days. At the request of Laieikawai to spare Laielohelohe and her husband, the danger passed them by, and they became rulers over the land thereafter. Now in the early morning of the day of Aiwohikupua's and Waka's downfall, lo! the multitude assembled at Pihanakalani saw a rainbow let down from the moon to earth, trembling in the hot rays of the sun. Then, as they all crowded together, the seer and the five girls stood on the ladder way, and Kaonohiokala and Laieikawai apart, and the soles of their feet were like fire. This was the time when Aiwohikupua and Waka fell to the ground, and the seer's prophecy was fulfilled. When the chief had avenged them upon their enemies, the chief placed Kahalaomapuana as ruler over them and stationed his other sisters over separate islands. And Kekalukaluokewa was chief counsellor under Laielohelohe, and the seer was their companion in council, with the power of chief counsellor. After all these things were put in order and well established, Laieikawai and her husband were taken on the rainbow to the land within the clouds and dwelt in the husband's home. In case her sisters should do wrong then, it was Kahalaomapuana's duty to bring word to the chief. But there was no fault to be found with his sisters until they left this world. CHAPTER XXXI After the marriage of Laieikawai and Kaonohiokala, when his sisters and the seer and Kekalukaluokewa and his wife were well established, after all this had been set in order, they returned to the country in the heavens called Kahakaekaea and dwelt in the taboo house on the borders of Tahiti. And when she became wife under the marriage bond, all power was given her as a god except that to see hidden things and those obscure deeds which were done at a distance; only her husband had this power. Before they left Kauai to return to the heavens, a certain agreement was made in their assembly at the government council. Lo! on that day, the rainbow pathway was let down from Nuumealani and Kaonohiokala and Laieikawai mounted upon that way, and she laid her last commands upon her sisters, the seer, and Laielohelohe; these were her words: "My companions and our father the prophet, my sister born with me in the womb and your husband, I return according to our agreement! leave you and return to that place where you will not soon come to see me; therefore, live in peace, for each alike has prospered, not one of you lacks fortune. But Kaonohiokala will visit you to look after your welfare." After these words they were borne away out of sight. And as to her saying Kaonohiokala would come to look after the welfare of her companions, this was the sole source of disturbance in Laieikawai's life with her husband. While Laieikawai lived at home with her husband it was Kaonohiokala's custom to come down from time to time to look after his sisters' welfare and that of his young wife three times every year. They had lived perhaps five years under the marriage contract, and about the sixth year of Laieikawai's happy life with her husband, Kaonohiokala fell into sin with Laielohelohe without anyone knowing of his falling into sin. After Laieikawai had lived three months above, Kaonohiokala went down to look after his sister's welfare, and returned to Laieikawai; so he did until the third year, and after three years of going below to see after his sisters, lo! Laielohelohe was full-grown and her beauty had increased and surpassed that of her sister, Laieikawai's. Not at this time, however, did Kaonohiokala fall into sin, but his sinful longing had its beginning. On every trip Kaonohiokala took to do his work below, for four years, lo! Laielohelohe's loveliness grew beyond what he had seen before, and his sinful lust increased mightily, but by his nature as a child of god he persisted in checking his lust; for perhaps a minute the lust flew from him, then it clung to him once more. In the fifth year, at the end of the first quarter, Kaonohiokala went away to do his work below. At that time virtue departed far from the mind of Kaonohiokala and he fell into sin. Now at this time, when he met his sisters, the prophet and his _punalua_ and their wife (Laielohelohe), Kaonohiokala began to redistribute the land, so he called a fresh council. And to carry out his evil purpose, he transferred his sisters to be guards over the land called Kealohilani, and arranged that they should live with Mokukelekahiki and have charge of the land with him. When some of his sisters saw how much greater the honor was to become chiefs in a land they had never visited, and serve with Mokukelekahiki there, they agreed to consent to their brother's plan. But Kahalaomapuana would not consent to return to Kealohilani, for she cared more for her former post of honor than to return to Kealohilani. And in refusing, she spoke to her brother as follows: "My high one, as to your sending us to Kealohilani, let them go and I will remain here, living as you first placed me; for I love the land and the people and am accustomed to the life; and if I stay below here and you above and they between, then all will be well, just as we were born of our mother; for you broke the way, your little sisters followed you, and I stopped it up; that was the end, and so it was." Now he knew that his youngest sister had spoken well; but because of Kaonohiokala's great desire to get her away so that she would not detect his mischievous doings, therefore he cast lots upon his sisters, and the one upon whom, the lot rested must go back to Kealohilani. Said Kaonohiokala to his sisters, "Go and pull a grass flower; do not go together, every one by herself, then the oldest return and give it to me, in the order of your birth, and the one who has the longest grass stem, she shall go to Kealohilani." Every one went separately and returned as they had been told. The first one went and pulled one about two inches in length, and the second one pulled and broke her flower perhaps three inches and a half; and the third, she pulled her grass stem about two inches long; and the fourth of them, hers was about one inch long; and Kahalaomapuana did not pull the tall flowers, she pulled a very short one, about three feet long hers was, and she cut off half and came back, thinking her grass stem was the shortest. But in comparing them, the oldest laid hers down before her brother. Kahalaomapuana saw it and was much surprised, so she secretly broke hers inside her clothing; but her brother saw her doing it and said, "Kahalaomapuana, no fooling! leave your grass stem as it is." The others laid down theirs, but Kahalaomapuana did not show hers; said he, "The lot rests upon you." Then she begged her brother to draw the lot again; again they drew lots, again the lot rested upon Kahalaomapuana; Kahalaomapuana had nothing left to say, for the lot rested upon her. Lo! she was sorrowful at separating herself from her own chief-house and the people of the land; darkened was the princess's heart by the unwelcome lot that sent her back to Kealohilani. And on the day when Kahalaomapuana was to depart for Kealohilani, the rainbow was let down from above the earth. Then she said to her brother, "Let the pathway of my high one wait ten days, and let the chiefs be gathered together and all the people of the land, that I may show them my great love before you take me away." When Kaonohiokala saw that his sister's words were well, he granted her wish; then the pathway was taken up again with her brother. And on the tenth day, the pathway was let down again before the assembly, and Kahalaomapuana mounted upon the ladder way prepared for her and turned with heavy heart, her eyes filled with a flood of tears, the water drops of Kulanihakoi, and said: "O chiefs and people, I am leaving you to return to a land unknown to you; only I and my older sisters have visited it; it was not my wish to go back to this land; but my hand decided my leaving you according to the lot laid by my divine brother. But I know that every one of us has a god, no one is without; now, therefore, do you pray to your god and I will pray to my god, and if our prayer has might, then shall we meet again hereafter. Love to you all, love to the land, we cease and disappear." Then she caught hold of her garment and held it up to her eyes before the assembly to hide her feeling for the people and the land. And she was borne by the rainbow to the land above the clouds, to Lanikuakaa, the heavens higher up. The great reason why Kaonohiokala wished to separate Kahalaomapuana in Kealohilani was to hide his evil doings with Laielohelohe, for Kahalaomapuana was the only one who could see things done in secret; and she was a resolute girl, not one to give in. Kaonohiokala thought she might disclose to Moanalihaikawaokele this evil doing; so he got his sister away, and by his supernatural arts he made the lot fall to Kahalaomapuana. When his sister had gone, about the end of the second quarter of the fifth year, he went away below to carry out his lustful design upon Laielohelohe. Not just at that time, but he made things right with Kekalukaluokewa by putting him in Kahalaomapuana's place and the seer as his chief counsellor. Mailehaiwale was made governor on Kauai, Mailekaluhea on Oahu, Mailelaulii on Maui and the other islands, Mailepakaha on Hawaii. CHAPTER XXXII When Kekalukaluokewa became head over the group, then Kaonohiokala sent him to make a tour of the islands and perform the functions of a ruler, and he put Laielohelohe in Kekalukaluokewa's place as his substitute. And for this reason Kekalukaluokewa took his chief counsellor (the prophet) with him on the circuit. So Kekalukaluokewa left Pihanakalani and started on the business of visiting the group; the same day Kaonohiokala left those below. When Kaonohiokala started to return he did not go all the way up, but just watched that day the sailing of Kekalukaluokewa's canoes over the ocean. Then Kaonohiokala came back down and sought the companionship of Laielohelohe, but not just then was the sin committed. When the two met, Kaonohiokala asked Laielohelohe to separate herself from the rest, and at the high chief's command the princess's retainers withdrew. When Laielohelohe and Kaonohiokala were alone he said, "This is the third year that I have desired you, for your beauty has grown and overshadowed your sister's, Laieikawai's. Now at last my patience no longer avails to turn away my passion from you." "O my high one," said Laielohelohe, "how can you rid yourself of your passion? And what does my high one see fit to do?" "Let us know one another," said Kaonohiokala, "this is the only thing to be done for me." Said Laielohelohe, "We can not touch one another, my high one, for the one who brought me up from the time I was born until I found my husband, he has strictly bound me not to defile my flesh with anyone; and, therefore, my high one, it is his to grant your wish." When Kaonohiokala heard this, then he had some check to his passion, then he returned to the heavens to his wife, Laieikawai. He had not been ten days there when, he was again thick-pressed by the thunders of his evil lust, and he could not hold out against it. To ease this passion he was again forced down below to meet Laielohelohe. And having heard that her guardian who bound her must give his consent, he first sought Kapukaihaoa and asked his consent to the chief's purpose. So he went first and said to Kapukaihaoa: "I wish to unite myself with Laielohelohe for a time, not to take her away altogether, but to ease my heavy heart of its lust after your foster child; for I first begged my boon of her, but she sent me for your consent, and so I have come to you." Said Kapukaihaoa: "High one of the highest, I grant your request, my high one; it is well for you to go in to my foster child; for no good has come to me from my charge. It was our strong desire, mine and hers who took care of your wife Laieikawai, that Kekalukaluokewa should be our foster child's husband; very good, but in settling the rule over the islands, the gain has gone to others and I have nothing. For he has given all the islands to your sisters, and I have nothing, the one who provided him with his wife; so it will be well, in order to avoid a second misfortune, that you have the wife for the two of you." At the end of their secret conference, Kapukaihaoa went with the chief to Laielohelohe. Said he, "My ward, here is the husband, be ruled by him; heavens above, earth beneath; a solid fortune, nothing can shake its foundation; and look to the one who bore the burden." Then Laielohelohe dismissed her doubts; and Kaonohiokala took Laielohelohe and they took their pleasure together. Three days after, Kaonohiokala returned to Kahakaekaea. And after he had been some days absent, the pangs of love caught him fast, and changed his usual appearance. Then on the fourth day of their separation, he told a lie to Laieikawai and said, "This was a strange night for me, I never slept, there was a drumming all night long." Said Laieikawai, "What was it?" Said Kaonohiokala, "Perhaps the people below are in trouble." "Perhaps so," said Laieikawai. "Why not go down and see?" And at his wife's mere suggestion, in less than no time Kaonohiokala was below in the companionship of Laielohelohe. But Laielohelohe never thought of harm; what was that to her mind! When they met at the chief's wish. Laielohelohe did not love Kaonohiokala, for the princess did not wish to commit sin with the great chief from the heavens, but to satisfy her guardian's greed. After perhaps ten days of these evil doings, Kaonohiokala returned above. Then Laielohelohe's love for Kekalukaluokewa waxed and grew because she had fallen into sin with Kaonohiokala. One day in the evening Laielohelohe said to Kapukaihaoa, "My good guard and protector, I am sorry for my sin with Kaonohiokala, and love grows within me for Kekalukaluokewa, my husband; good and happy has been our life together, and I sinned not by my own wish, but through your wish alone. What harm had you refused? I referred the matter to you because of your binding me not to keep companionship with anyone; I thought you would keep your oath; not so!" Said Kapukaihaoa, "I allowed you to be another's because your husband gave me no gifts; for in my very face your husband's gifts were given to others; there I stood, then you were gone. Little he thought of me from whom he got his wife." Said Laielohelohe to her foster father, "If that is why you have given me over to sin with Kaonohiokala, then you have done very wrong, for you know the rulers over the islands were not appointed by Kekalukaluokewa, but by Kaonohiokala; and therefore to-morrow I will go on board a double canoe and set sail to seek my husband." That very evening she commanded her retainers, those who guarded the chief's canoe, to get the canoe ready to set sail to seek the husband. And not wishing to meet Kaonohiokala, she hid inside the country people's houses where he would not come, lest Kaonohiokala should come again and sin with her against her wish; so she fled to the country people's houses, but he did not come until that night when she had left and was out at sea. When she sailed, she came to Oahu and stayed in the country people's houses. So she journeyed until her meeting with Kekalukaluokewa. About the time that Laielohelohe was come to Oahu, that next day Kaonohiokala came again to visit Laielohelohe; but on his arrival, no Laielohelohe at the chief's house; he did not question the guard for fear of his suspecting his sin with Laielohelohe. Now Laielohelohe had secretly told the guard of the chief's house why she was going. And failing in his desires he returned above. The report of his lord's falling into sin had reached the ears of the chief through some of his retainers and he had heard also of Laielohelohe's displeasure. Now the vagabond, Aiwohikupua, was one of the chief's retainers, he was the one who heard these things. And when he heard Laielohelohe's reason for setting sail to seek her husband, then he said to the palace guard, "If Kaonohiokala returns again, and asks for Laielohelohe, tell him she is ill, then he will not come back, for she would pollute Kaonohiokala and our parents; when the uncleanness is over, then the deeds of Venus may be done." When Kaonohiokala came again and questioned the guard then he was told as Aiwohikupua had said, and he went back up again. CHAPTER XXXIII In Chapter XXXII of this story the reason was told why Laielohelohe went in search of her husband. Now, she followed him from Kauai to Oahu and to Maui; she came to Lahaina, heard Kekalukaluokewa was in Hana, having returned from Hawaii. She sailed by canoe and came to Honuaula; there they heard that Hinaikamalama was Kekalukaluokewa's wife; the Honuaula people did not know that this was his wife. When Laielohelohe heard this news, they hurried forward at once and came to Kaupo and Kipahulu. There was substantiated the news they heard first at Honuaula, and there they beached the canoe at Kapohue, left it, went to Waiohonu and heard that Kekalukaluokewa and Hinaikamalama had gone to Kauwiki, and they came to Kauwiki; Kekalukaluokewa and his companion had gone on to Honokalani; many days they had been on the way. On their arrival at Kauwiki, that afternoon, Laielohelohe asked a native of the place how much farther it was to Honokalani, where Kekalukaluokewa and Hinaikamalama were staying. Said the native, "You can arrive by sundown." They went on, accompanied by the natives, and at dusk reached Honokalani; there Laielohelohe sent the natives to see where the chiefs were staying. The natives went and saw the chiefs drinking _awa_, and returned and told them. Then Laielohelohe sent the natives again to go and see the chiefs, saying, "You go and find out where the chiefs sleep, then return to us." And at her command, the natives went and found out where the chiefs slept, and returned and told Laielohelohe. Then for the first time she told the natives that she was Kekalukaluokewa's married wife. Before Laielohelohe's meeting with Kekalukaluokewa he had heard of her falling into sin with Kaonohiokala; he heard it from one of Kauakahialii's men, the one who became Aiwohikupua's chief counsellor; and, because of that man's hearing about Laielohelohe, he came there to tell Kekalukaluokewa. When Laielohelohe and her companions came to the house where Kekalukaluokewa was staying, lo! they lay sleeping in the same place under one covering, drunk with _awa_. Laielohelohe entered and sat down at their heads, kissed him and wept quietly over him; but the fountain of her tears overflowed when she saw another woman sleeping by her husband, nor did they know this; for they were drunk with _awa_. Then Laielohelohe did not stay her anger against Hinaikamalama. So she got between them, pushed Hinaikamalama away, took Kekalukaluokewa and embraced him, and wakened him. Then Kekalukaluokewa started from his sleep and saw his wife; just then, Hinaikamalama waked suddenly from sleep and saw this strange woman with them; she ran away from them in a rage, not knowing this was Kekalukaluokewa's wife. When Kekalukaluokewa saw the anger in Hinaikamalama's eyes as she went, then he said, "O Hinaikamalama, will you run to people with angry eyes? Do not take this woman for a stranger, she is my wedded wife." Then her rage left her and shame and fear took the place of rage. When Kekalukaluokewa awoke from his drunken sleep and saw his wife Laielohelohe, they kissed as strangers meet. Then he said to his wife, "Laielohelohe, I have heard about your falling into sin with our lord, Kaonohiokala, and now this is well for you and him, and well for me to rule under you two; for from him this honor comes, and life and death are with him; if I should object, he would kill me; therefore, whatever our lord wishes it is best for us to obey; it was not for my pleasure that I gave you up, but for fear of death." Then Laielohelohe said to her husband, "Where are you, husband of my childhood? What you have heard is true, and it is true that I have fallen into sin with the lord of the land, not many times, only twice have we sinned; but, my husband, it was not I who consented to defile my body with our lord, but it was my guardian who permitted the sin; for on the day when you went away, that very day our lord asked me to defile myself; but I did not wish it, therefore I referred my refusal to him; but on his return from above he asked Kapukaihaoa, and so we met twice; and because I did not like it, I hid myself in the country people's houses, and for the same reason have I left the seat appointed me, and have sought you; and when I arrived, I found you with that woman. Therefore we are square; I have nothing to complain of your you have nothing to complain of me; therefore, leave this woman this very night." Now his wife's words seemed right to her husband; but at Laielohelohe's last request to separate them from their sinful companionship, then was kindled the fire of Hinaikamalama's hot love for Kekalukaluokewa. Hinaikamalama returned home to Haneoo to live; every day that Hinaikamalama stayed at her chief-house, she was wont to sit at the door of the house and turn her face to Kauwiki, for the hot love that wrapped her about. One day, as the princess sought to ease the love she bore to Kekalukaluokewa, she climbed Kaiwiopele with her attendants, and sat there with her face turned toward Kauwiki, facing Kahalaoaka, and as the clouds rested there right above Honokalahi then the heart of the princess was benumbed with love for her lover; then she chanted a little song, as follows: Like a gathering cloud love settles upon me, Thick darkness wraps my heart. A stranger perhaps at the door of the house, My eyes dance. It may be they weep, alas! I shall be weeping for you. As flies the sea spray of Hanualele, Right over the heights of Honokalani. My high one! So it is I feel. After this song she wept, and seeing her weep, her attendants wept with her. They sat there until evening, then they returned to the house; her parents and her attendants commanded her to eat, but she had no appetite for food because of her love. It was the same with Kekalukaluokewa, for when Hinaikamalama left Kekalukaluokewa that night, when Laielohelohe came, the chief was not happy, but he endured it for some days after their separation. And on the day when Hinaikamalama went up on Kaiwiopele, that same night, he went to Hinaikamalama without Laielohelohe's knowledge, for she was asleep. While Hinaikamalama lay awake, sleepless for love, entered Kekalukaluokewa, without the knowledge of anyone in the chief's house. When Kekalukaluokewa came, he went right to the place where the princess slept, took the woman by the head and wakened her. Then Hinaikamalama's heart leaped with the hope it was her lover; now when she seized him it was in truth the one she had hoped for. Then she called out to the attendants to light the lamps, and at dawn Kekalukaluokewa returned to his true wife, Laielohelohe. After that, Kekalukaluokewa went to Hinaikamalama every night without being seen; ten whole days passed that the two did evil together without the wife knowing it; for in order to carry out her husband's desire Laielohelohe's senses were darkened by the effects of _awa_. One day one of the native-born women of the place felt pity for Laielohelohe, therefore the woman went to visit the princess. While Kekalukaluokewa was in the fiber-combing house with the men, the woman visited with Laielohelohe, and she said mysteriously, "How is your husband? Does he not struggle and groan sometimes for the woman?" Said Laielohelohe, "No; all is well with us." Said the woman again, "It may be he is deceiving you." "Perhaps so," answered Laielohelohe, "but so far as I see we are living very happily." Then the woman told her plainly, "Where are you? Our garden patch is right on the edge of the road; my husband gets up to dig in our garden. As he was digging, Kekalukaluokewa came along from Haneoo; my husband thought at once he had been with Hinaikamalama; my husband returned and told me, but I was not sure. On the next night, at moonrise, I got up with my husband, and we went to fish for red fish in the sea at Haneoo; as we came to the edge of the gulch, we saw some one appear above the rise we had just left; then we turned aside and hid; it was Kekalukaluokewa coming; then we followed his footsteps until we came close to Hinaikamalama's house; here Kekalukaluokewa entered. After we had fished and returned to the place where we met him first, we met him going back, and we did not speak to him nor he to us; that is all, and this day Hinaikamalama's own guard told me--my husband's sister she is--ten days the chiefs have been together; that is my secret; and therefore my husband and I took pity on you and I came to tell you." CHAPTER XXXIV And at the woman's words, the princess's mind was moved; not at once did she show her rage; but she waited but to make sure. She said to the woman, "No wonder my husband forces me to drink _awa_ so that when I am asleep under the influence of the _awa_, he can go; but to-night I will follow him." That night Kekalukaluokewa again gave her the _awa_, then she obeyed him, but after she had drunk it all, she went outside the house immediately and threw it up; and afterwards her husband did not know of his wife's guile, and she returned to the house, and Laielohelohe lay down and pretended to sleep. When Kekalukaluokewa thought that his wife was fast asleep under the effects of the _awa_, then he started to make his usual visit to Hinaikamalama. When Laielohelohe saw that he had left her, she arose and followed Kekalukaluokewa without being seen. Thus following, lo! she found her husband with Hinaikamalama. Then Laielohelohe said to Kekalukaluokewa, when she came to Hinaikamalama's house where they were sleeping, "My husband, you have deceived me; no wonder you compelled me to drink _awa_, you had something to do; now I have found you two, I tell you it is not right to endure this any longer. We had best return to Kauai; we must go at once." Her husband saw that the princess was right; they arose and returned to Honokalani and next day the canoes were hastily prepared to fulfill Laielohelohe's demand, thinking to sail that night; but they did not, for Kekalukaluokewa pretended to be ill, and they postponed going that night. The next day he did the same thing again, so Laielohelohe gave up her love for her husband and returned to Kauai with her canoe, without thinking again of Kekalukaluokewa. The next day after Laielohelohe reached Kauai after leaving her husband, Kaonohiokala arrived again from Kahakaekaea, and met with Laielohelohe. Four months passed of their amorous meetings; this long absence of Kaonohiokala's seemed strange to Laieikawai, he had been away four months; and as Laieikawai wondered at the long absence, Kaonohiokala returned. Laieikawai asked, "Why were you gone four months? You have not done so before." Said Kaonohiokala, "Laielohelohe has had trouble with her husband; Kekalukaluokewa has taken a stranger to wife, and this is why I was so long away." Then Laieikawai said to her husband, "Get your wife and bring her up here and let us live together." Therefore, Kaonohiokala left Laieikawai and went away, as Laieikawai thought, to carry out her command. Not so! On this journey Kaonohiokala stayed away a year; now Laieikawai did not think her husband's long stay strange, she laid it to Laielohelohe's troubles with Kekalukaluokewa. Then she longed to see how it was with her sister, so Laieikawai went to her father-in-law and asked, "How can I see how it is with my sister, for I have heard from my husband and high one that Laielohelohe is having trouble with Kekalukaluokewa, and so I have sent Kaonohiokala to fetch the woman and return hither; but he has not come back, and it is a year since he went, so give me power to see to that distant place to know how it is with my relatives." Then said Moanalihaikawaokele, her father-in-law, "Go home and look for your mother-in-law; if she is asleep, then go into the taboo temple; if you see a gourd plaited with straw and feathers mounted on the edge of the cover, that is the gourd. Do not be afraid of the great birds that stand on either side of the gourd, they are not real birds, only wooden birds; they are plaited with straw and inwrought with feathers. And when you come to where the gourd is standing take off the cover, then put your head into the mouth of the gourd and call out the name of the gourd, 'Laukapalili, Trembling Leaf, give me wisdom.' Then you shall see your sister and all that is happening below. Only when you call do not call in a loud voice; it might resound; your mother-in-law, Laukieleula, might hear, the one who guards the gourd of wisdom." Laukieleula was wont to watch the gourd of wisdom, at night, and by day she slept. Very early next morning, at the time when the sun's warmth began to spread over the earth, she went to spy out Laukieleula; she was just asleep. When she saw she was asleep Laieikawai did as Moanalihaikawaokele had directed, and she went as he had instructed her. When she came to the gourd, the one called "the gourd of wisdom," she lifted the cover from the gourd and bent her head to the mouth of the gourd, and she called the name of the gourd, then she began to see all that was happening at a distance. At noon Laieikawai's eyes glanced downward, lo! Kaonohiokala sinned with Laielohelohe. Then Laieikawai went and told Moanalihaikawaokele about it, saying, "I have employed the power you gave me, but while I was looking my high lord sinned; he did evil with my sister; for the first time I understand why his business takes him so long down below." Then Moanalihaikawaokele's wrath was kindled, and Laukieleula heard it also, and her parents-in-law went to the gourd--lo! they plainly saw the sin committed as Laieikawai had said. That day they all came together, Laieikawai and her parents-in-law, to see what to do about Kaonohiokala, and they came to their decision. Then the pathway was let down from Kahakaekaea and dropped before Kaonohiokala; then Kaonohiokala's heart beat with fear, because the road dropped before him; not for long was Kaonohiokala left to wonder. Then the air was darkened and it was filled with the cry of wailing spirits and the voice of lamentation--"The divine one has fallen! The divine one has fallen!!" And when the darkness was over, lo! Moanalihaikawaokele and Laukieleula and Laieikawai sat above the rainbow pathway. And Moanalihaikawaokele said to Kaonohiokala, "You have sinned, O Kaonohiokala, for you have defiled yourself and, therefore, you shall no longer have a place to dwell within Kahakaekaea, and the penalty you shall pay, to become a fearsome thing on the highway and at the doors of houses, and your name is Lapu, Vanity, and for your food you shall eat moths; and thus shall you live and your posterity." Then was the pathway taken from him through his father's supernatural might. Then they returned to Kahakaekaea. In this story it is told how Kaonohiokala was the first ghost on these islands, and from his day to this, the ghosts wander from place to place, and they resemble evil spirits in their nature.[76] On the way back after Kaonohiokala's punishment, they encountered Kahalaomapuana in Kealohilani, and for the first time discovered she was there. And at this discovery, Kahalaomapuana told the story of her dismissal, as we saw in Chapter XXVII of this story, and at the end Kahalaomapuana was taken to fill Kaonohiokala's place. At Kahakaekaea, sometimes Laieikawai longed for Laielohelohe, but she could do nothing; often she wept for her sister, and her parents-in-law thought it strange to see Laieikawai's eyes looking as if she had wept. Moanalihaikawaokele asked the reason for this; then she told him she wept for her sister. Said Moanalihaikawaokele, "Your sister can not live here with us, for she is defiled with Kaonohiokala; but if you want your sister, then you go and fill Kekalukaluokewa's place." Now Laieikawai readily assented to this plan. And on the day when Laieikawai was let down, Moanalihaikawaokele said, "Return to your sister and live virgin until your death, and from this time forth your name shall be no longer called Laieikawai, but your name shall be 'The Woman of the Twilight,' and by this name shall all your kin bow down to you and you shall be like a god to them." And after this command, Moanalihaikawaokele took her, and both together mounted upon the pathway and returned below. Then, Moanalihaikawaokele said all these things told above, and when he had ended he returned to the heavens and dwelt in the taboo house on the borders of Tahiti. Then, The Woman of the Twilight placed the government upon the seer; so did Laieikawai, the one called The Woman of the Twilight, and she lived as a god, and to her the seer bowed down and her kindred, according to Moanalihaikawaokele's word to her. And so Laieikawai lived until her death. And from that time to this she is still worshiped as The Woman of the Twilight. (THE END) NOTES ON THE TEXT CHAPTER I [Footnote 1: Haleole uses the foreign form for wife, _wahine mare_, literally "married woman," a relation which in Hawaiian is represented by the verb _hoao_. A temporary affair of the kind is expressed in Waka's advice to her granddaughter, "_O ke kane ia moeia_," literally, "the man this to be slept with".] [Footnote 2: The chief's vow, _olelo paa_, or "fixed word," to slay all his daughters, would not be regarded as savage by a Polynesian audience, among whom infanticide was commonly practiced. In the early years of the mission on Hawaii, Dibble estimated that two-thirds of the children born perished at the hands of their parents. They were at the slightest provocation strangled or burned alive, often within the house. The powerful Areois society of Tahiti bound its members to slay every child born to them. The chief's preference for a son, however, is not so common, girls being prized as the means to alliances of rank. It is an interesting fact that in the last census the proportion of male and female full-blooded Hawaiians was about equal.] [Footnote 3: The phrase _nalo no hoi na wahi huna_, which means literally "conceal the secret parts," has a significance akin to the Hebrew rendering "to cover his nakedness," and probably refers to the duty of a favorite to see that no enemy after death does insult to his patron's body. So the bodies of ancient chiefs are sewed into a kind of bag of fine woven coconut work, preserving the shape of the head and bust, or embalmed and wrapped in many folds of native cloth and hidden away in natural tombs, the secret of whose entrance is intrusted to only one or two followers, whose superstitious dread prevents their revealing the secret, even when offered large bribes. These bodies, if worshiped, may be repossessed by the spirit and act as supernatural guardians of the house. See page 494, where the Kauai chief sets out on his wedding embassy with "the embalmed bodies of his ancestors." Compare, for the service itself, Waka's wish that the Kauai chief might be the one to hide her bones, the prayer of Aiwohikupua's seer that his master might, in return for his lifelong service, "bury his bones"--"_e kalua keai mau iwi_," and his request of Laieikawai, that she would "leave this trust to your descendants unto the last generation."] [Footnote 4: Prenatal infanticide, _omilomilo_, was practiced in various forms throughout Polynesia even in such communities as rejected infanticide after birth. The skeleton of a woman, who evidently died during the operation, is preserved in the Bishop Museum to attest the practice, were not testimony of language and authority conclusive.] [Footnote 5: The _manini_ (_Tenthis sandvicensis_, Street) is a flat-shaped striped fish common in Hawaiian waters. The spawn, called _ohua_, float in a jellylike mass on the surface of the water. It is considered a great delicacy and must be fished for in the early morning before the sun touches the water and releases the spawn, which instantly begin to feed and lose their rare transparency.] [Footnote 6: The month _Ikuwa_ is variously placed in the calendar year. According to Malo, on Hawaii it corresponds to our October; on Molokai and Maui, to January; on Oahu, to August; on Kauai, to April.] [Footnote 7: The adoption by their grandparents and hiding away of the twins must be compared with a large number of concealed birth tales in which relatives of superior supernatural power preserve the hero or heroine at birth and train and endow their foster children for a life of adventure. This motive reflects Polynesian custom. Adoption was by no means uncommon among Polynesians, and many a man owed his preservation from death to the fancy of some distant relative who had literally picked him off the rubbish heap to make a pet of. The secret amours of chiefs, too, led, according to Malo (p. 82), to the theme of the high chief's son brought up in disguise, who later proves his rank, a theme as dear to the Polynesian as to romance lovers of other lands.] CHAPTER II [Footnote 8: The _iako_ of a canoe are the two arched sticks which hold the outrigger. The _kua iako_ are the points at which they are bound to the canoe, or rest upon it, aft and abaft of the canoe.] [Footnote 9: The verb _hookuiia_ means literally "cause to be pierced" as with a needle or other sharp instrument. _Kui_ describes the act of piercing, _hoo_ is the causative prefix, _ia_ the passive particle, which was, in old Hawaiian, commonly attached to the verb as a suffix. The Hawaiian speech expresses much more exactly than our own the delicate distinction between the subject in its active and passive relation to an action, hence the passive is vastly more common. Mr. J.S. Emerson points out to me a classic example of the passive used as an imperative--an old form unknown to-day--in the story of the rock, Lekia, the "pohaku o Lekia" which overlooks the famous Green Lake at Kapoho, Puna. Lekia, the demigod, was attacked by the magician, Kaleikini, and when almost overcome, was encouraged by her mother, who called out, "_Pohaku o Lekia, onia a paa_"--"be planted firm." This the demigod effected so successfully as never again to be shaken from her position.] [Footnote 10: Hawaiian challenge stories bring out a strongly felt distinction in the Polynesian mind between these two provinces, _maloko a mawaho_, "inside and outside" of a house. When the boy Kalapana comes to challenge his oppressor he is told to stay outside; inside is for the chief. "Very well," answers the hero, "I choose the outside; anyone who comes out does so at his peril." So he proves that he has the better of the exclusive company.] [Footnote 11: In his invocation the man recognizes the two classes of Hawaiian society, chiefs and common people, and names certain distinctive ranks. The commoners are the farming class, _hu, makaainu, lopakuakea, lopahoopiliwale_ referring to different grades of tenant farmers. Priests and soothsayers are ranked with chiefs, whose households, _aialo_, are made up of hangers-on of lower rank--courtiers as distinguished from the low-ranking countrymen--_makaaina_--who remain on the land. Chiefs of the highest rank, _niaupio_, claim descent within the single family of a high chief. All high-class chiefs must claim parentage at least of a mother of the highest rank; the low chiefs, _kaukaualii_, rise to rank through marriage (Malo, p. 82). The _ohi_ are perhaps the _wohi_, high chiefs who are of the highest rank on the father's side and but a step lower on the mother's.] [Footnote 12: With this judgment of beauty should be compared Fornander's story of _Kepakailiula_, where "mother's brothers" search for a woman beautiful enough to wed their protegé, but find a flaw in each candidate; and the episode of the match of beauty in the tale of _Kalanimanuia_.] CHAPTER III [Footnote 13: The building of a _heiau_, or temple, was a common means of propitiating a deity and winning his help for a cause. Ellis records (1825) that on the journey from Kailua to Kealakekua he passed at least one _heiau_ to every half mile. The classic instance in Hawaiian history is the building of the great temple of Puukohala at Kawaihae by Kamehamaha, in order to propitiate his war god, and the tolling thither of his rival, Keoua, to present as the first victim upon the altar, a treachery which practically concluded the conquest of Hawaii. Malo (p. 210) describes the "days of consecration of the temple."] [Footnote 14: The nights of Kane and of Lono follow each other on the 27th and 28th of the month and constitute the days of taboo for the god Kane. Four such taboo seasons occur during the month, each lasting from two to three days and dedicated to the gods Ku, Kanaloa, and Kane, and to Hua at the time of full moon. The night Kukahi names the first night of the taboo for Ku, the highest god of Hawaii.] [Footnote 15: By _kahoaka_ the Hawaiians designate "the spirit or soul of a person still living," in distinction from the _uhane_, which may be the spirit of the dead. _Aka_ means shadow, likeness; _akaku_, that kind of reflection in the mists which we call the "specter in the brocken." _Hoakaku_ means "to have a vision," a power which seers possess. Since the spirit may go abroad independently of the body, such romantic shifts as the vision of a dream lover, so magically introduced into more sophisticated romance, are attended with no difficulties of plausibility to a Polynesian mind. It is in a dream that Halemano first sees the beauty of Puna. In a Samoan story (Taylor, I, 98) the sisters catch the image of their brother in a bottle and throw it upon the princess's bathing pool. When the youth turns over at home, the image turns in the water.] [Footnote 16: The feathers of the _oo_ bird (_Moho nobilis_), with which the princess's house is thatched, are the precious yellow feathers used for the manufacture of cloaks for chiefs of rank. The _mamo_ (_Drepanis pacifica_) yields feathers of a richer color, but so distributed that they can not be plucked from the living bird. This bird is therefore almost extinct in Hawaiian forests, while the _oo_ is fast recovering itself under the present strict hunting laws. Among all the royal capes preserved in the Bishop Museum, only one is made of the _mamo_ feathers.] [Footnote 17: The reference to the temple of Pahauna is one of a number of passages which concern themselves with antiquarian interest. In these and the transition passages the hand of the writer is directly visible.] [Footnote 18: The whole treatment of the Kauakahialii episode suggests an inthrust. The flute, whose playing won for the chief his first bride, plays no part at all in the wooing of Laieikawai and hence is inconsistently emphasized. Given a widely sung hero like Kauakahialii, whose flute playing is so popularly connected with his love making, and a celebrated heroine like the beauty who dwelt among the birds of Paliuli, and the story-tellers are almost certain to couple their names in a tale, confused as regards the flute, to be sure, but whose classic character is perhaps attested by the grace of the description. The Hebraic form in which the story of the approach of the divine beauty is couched can not escape the reader, and may be compared with the advent of the Sun god later in the story. There is nothing in the content of this story to justify the idea that the chief had lost his first wife, Kailiokalauokekoa, unless it be the fact that he is searching Hawaii for another beauty. Perhaps, like the heroine of _Halemano_, the truant wife returns to her husband through jealousy of her rival's attractions. A special relation seems to exist in Hawaiian story between Kauai and the distant Puna on Hawaii, at the two extremes of the island group: it is here that _Halemano_ from Kauai weds the beauty of his dream, and it is a Kauai boy who runs the sled race with Pele in the famous myth of _Kalewalo_. With the Kauakahialii tale (found in _Hawaiian Annual_, 1907, and Paradise of the Pacific, 1911) compare Grey's New Zealand story (p. 235) of Tu Tanekai and Tiki playing the horn and the pipe to attract Hinemoa, the maiden of Rotorua. In Malo, p. 117, one of the popular stories of this chief is recorded, a tale that resembles Gill's of the spirit meeting of Watea and Papa.] [Footnote 19: These are all wood birds, in which form Gill tells us (Myths and Songs, p. 35) the gods spoke to man in former times. Henshaw tells us that the _oo_ (_Moho nobilis_) has "a long shaking note with ventriloquial powers." The _alala_ is the Hawaiian crow (_Corvus hawaiiensis_), whose note is higher than in our species. If, as Henshaw says, its range is limited to the dry Kona and Kau sections, the chief could hardly hear its note in the rainy uplands of Puna. But among the forest trees of Puna the crimson _apapane_ (_Himatione sanguinea_) still sounds its "sweet monotonous note;" the bright vermillion _iiwipolena_ (_Vectiaria coccinea_) hunts insects and trills its "sweet continual song;" the "four liquid notes" of the little rufous-patched _elepaio_ (_Eopsaltria sandvicensis_), beloved of the canoe builder, is commonly to be heard. Of the birds described in the Laielohelohe series the cluck of the _alae_ (_Gallinula sandricensis_) I have heard only in low marshes by the sea, and the _ewaewaiki_ I am unable to identify. Andrews calls it the cry of a spirit.] [Footnote 20: _Moaulanuiakea_ means literally "Great-broad-red-cock," and is the name of Moikeka's house in Tahiti, where he built the temple Lanikeha near a mountain Kapaahu. His son Kila journeys thither to fetch his older brother, and finds it "grand, majestic, lofty, thatched with the feathers of birds, battened with bird bones, timbered with _kauila_ wood." (See Fornander's _Kila_.)] CHAPTER IV [Footnote 21: Compare Gill's story of the first god, Watea, who dreams of a lovely woman and finds that she is Papa, of the underworld, who visits him in dreams to win him as her lover. (Myths and Songs, p. 8.)] [Footnote 22: In the song the girl is likened to the lovely _lehua_, blossom, so common to the Puna forests, and the lover's longing to the fiery crater, Kilauea, that lies upon their edge. The wind is the carrier of the vision as it blows over the blossoming forest and scorches its wing across the flaming pit. In the _Halemano_ story the chief describes his vision as follows: "She is very beautiful. Her eyes and form are perfect. She has long, straight, black hair and she seems to be of high rank, like a princess. Her garment seems scented with the _pele_ and _mahuna_ of Kauai, her skirt is made of some very light material dyed red. She wears a _hala_ wreath on her head and a _lehua_ wreath around her neck."] [Footnote 23: No other intoxicating liquor save _awa_ was known to the early Hawaiians, and this was sacred to the use of chiefs. So high is the percentage of free alcohol in this root that it has become an article of export to Germany for use in drug making. Vancouver, describing the famous Maui chief, Kahekili, says: "His age I suppose must have exceeded 60. He was greatly debilitated and emaciated, and from the color of his skin I judged his feebleness to have been brought on by excessive use of _awa_."] [Footnote 21: In the Hawaiian form of checkers, called _konane_, the board, _papamu_, is a flat surface of stone or wood, of irregular shape, marked with depressions if of stone, often by bone set in if of wood; these depressions of no definite number, but arranged ordinarily at right angles. The pieces are beach pebbles, coral for white, lava for black. The smallest board in the museum collection holds 96, the largest, of wood, 180 men. The board is set up, leaving one space empty, and the game is played by jumping, the color remaining longest on the board winning the game. _Konane_ was considered a pastime for chiefs and was accompanied by reckless betting. An old native conducting me up a valley in Kau district, Hawaii, pointed out a series of such evenly set depressions on the flat rock floor of the valley and assured me that this must once have been a chief's dwelling place.] [Footnote 25: The _malo_ is a loin cloth 3 or 4 yards long and a foot wide, one end of which passes between the legs and fastens in front. The red _malo_ is the chief's badge, and his bodyguard, says Malo, wear the girdle higher than common and belted tight as if ready for instant service. Aiwohikupua evidently travels in disguise as the mere follower of a chief.] [Footnote 28: In Hawaiian warfare, the biggest boaster was the best man, and to shame an antagonist by taunts was to score success. In the ceremonial boxing contest at the Makahiki festivities for Lono, god of the boxers, as described by Malo, the "reviling recitative" is part of the program. In the story of _Kawelo_, when his antagonist, punning on his grandfather's name of "cock," calls him a "mere chicken that scratches after roaches," Kawelo's sense of disgrace is so keen that he rolls down the hill for shame, but luckily bethinking himself that the cock roosts higher than the chief (compare the Arab etiquette that allows none higher than the king), and that out of its feathers, brushes are made which sweep the chief's back, he returns to the charge with a handsome retort which sends his antagonist in ignominious retreat. In the story of Lono, when the nephews of the rival chiefs meet, a sparring contest of wit is set up, depending on the fact that one is short and fat, the other long and lanky, "A little shelf for the rats," jeers the tall one. "Little like the smooth quoit that runs the full course," responds the short one, and retorts "Long and lanky, he will go down in the gale like a banana tree." "Like the _ea_ banana that takes long to ripen," is the quick reply. Compare also the derisive chants with which Kuapakaa drives home the chiefs of the six districts of Hawaii who have got his father out of favor, and Lono's taunts against the revolting chiefs of Hawaii.] [Footnote 27: The idiomatic passages "_aohe puko momona o Kohala_," etc., and (on page 387) "_e huna oukou i ko oukou mau maka i ke aouli_" are of doubtful interpretation.] [Footnote 28: This boast of downing an antagonist with a single blow is illustrated in the story of _Kawelo_. His adversary, Kahapaloa, has struck him down and is leaving him for dead. "Strike again, he may revive," urge his supporters. Kahapaloa's refusal is couched in these words: "He is dead; for it is a blow from the young, The young must kill with a blow Else will the fellow go down to Milu And say Kahapaloa struck frim twice, Thus was the fighter slain." All Hawaiian stories of demigods emphasize the ease of achievement as a sign of divine rather than human capacity.] CHAPTER V [Footnote 29: Shaking hands was of foreign introduction and marks one of the several inconsistencies in Haleole's local coloring, of which "the deeds of Venus" is the most glaring. He not only uses such foreign coined words as _wati_, "watch," and _mare_, "marry," but terms which are late Hawaiian, such as the triple canoe, _pukolu_, and provision boat, _pelehu_, said to have been introduced in the reign of Kaméhaméha I.] [Footnote 30: Famous Hawaiian boxing teachers kept master strokes in reserve for the pupils, upon whose success depended their own reputation. These strokes were known by name. Compare Kawelo, who before setting out to recapture Kauai sends his wife to secure from his father-in-law the stroke called _wahieloa_. The phrase "_Ka ai a ke kumu i ao oleia ia oukou_" has been translated with a double-punning meaning, literal and figurative, according to the interpretation of the words. Cold-nose's faith in his girdle parodies the far-fetched dependence upon name signs common to this punning race. The snapping of the end of his loin cloth is a good omen for the success of a stroke named "End-that-sounds"! Even his supporters jeer at him.] [Footnote 31: Few similes are used in the story. This figure of the "blood of a lamb," the "blow like the whiz of the wind," the _moo_ ploughing the earth with his jaw "like a shovel," a picture of the surf rider--"foam rose on each side of his neck like a boar's tusks," and the appearance of the Sun god's skin, "like a furnace where iron is melted," will, perhaps, cover them all. In each the figure is exact, but ornamental, evidently used to heighten the effect. Images are occasionally elaborated with exact realization of the bodily sensation produced. The rainbow "trembling in the hot rays of the sun" is an example, and those passages which convey the lover's sensations--"his heart fainted with love," "thick pressed with thunders of love," or such an image as "the burden of his mind was lifted." Sometimes the image carries the comparison into another field, as in "the windings and twistings of his journey"--a habit of mind well illustrated in the occasional proverbs, and in the highly figurative songs.] [Footnote 32: The Polynesians, like the ancient Hebrews, practiced circumcision with strict ceremonial observances.] [Footnote 33: The gods invoked by Aiwohikupua are not translated with certainty, but they evidently represent such forces of the elements as we see later belong among the family deities of the Aiwohikupua household. Prayer as an invocation to the gods who are called upon for help is one of the most characteristic features of native ritual, and the termination _amama_, generally accompanied by the finishing phrases _ua noa_, "it is finished," and _lele wale aku la_, "flown away," is genuine Polynesian. Literally _mama_ means "to chew," but not for the purpose of swallowing like food, but to spit out of the mouth, as in the preparation of _awa_. The term may therefore, authorities say, be connected with the ceremonial chewing of _awa_ in the ritualistic invocations to the gods. A similar prayer quoted by Gill (Myths and Songs, 120) he ascribes to the antiquity of the story.] [Footnote 34: The _laau palau_, literally "wood-that-cuts," which Wise translates "war club," has not been identified on Hawaii in the Bishop Museum, but is described from other groups. Gill, from the Hervey Islands, calls it a sharpened digging stick, used also as a weapon. The gigantic dimensions of these sticks and their appellations are emphasized in the hero tales.] [Footnote 35: The Hawaiian cloak or _kihei_ is a large square, 2 yards in size, made of bark cloth worn over the shoulders and joined by two corners on one side in a knot.] [Footnote 36: The meaning of the idiomatic boast _he lala kamahele no ka laau ku i ka pali_ is uncertain. I take it to be a punning reference to the Pali family from whom the chief sprang, but it may simply be a way of saying "I am a very high chief." Kamahele is a term applied to a favorite and petted child, as, in later religious apostrophe, to Christ himself.] CHAPTER VI [Footnote 37: The _puloulou_ is said to have been introduced by Paao some five hundred years ago, together with the ceremonial taboo of which it is the symbol. Since for a person of low rank to approach a sacred place or person was death to the intruder, it was necessary to guard against accidental offences by the use of a sign. The _puloulou_ consisted of a ball-shaped bundle of white bark cloth attached to the end of a staff. This symbol is to be seen represented upon the Hawaiian coat of arms; and Kalakaua's _puloulou_, a gilded wooden ball on the end of a long staff, is preserved in the Bishop Museum.] [Footnote 38: Long life was the Polynesian idea of divine blessing. Of Kualii the chanter boasts that he "lived to be carried to battle in a net." The word is _kaikoko_, "to carry on the back in a net," as in the case of old and feeble persons. Polynesian dialects contain a full vocabulary of age terms from infancy to old age.] [Footnote 39: Chickens were a valuable part of a chief's wealth, since from their feathers were formed the beautiful fly brushes, _kahili_, used to wave over chiefs of rank and carried in ceremonial processions. The entrance to the rock cave is still shown, at the mouth of Kaliuwaa valley, where Kamapuaa's grandmother shut up her chickens at night, and it was for robbing his uncle's henroost that this rascally pig-god was chased away from Oahu. This reference is therefore one of many indications that the Laieikawai tale belongs with those of the ancient demigods.] [Footnote 40: Mr. Meheula suggested to me this translation of the idiomatic allusions to the canoe and the coral reef.] CHAPTER VIII [Footnote 41: A peculiarly close family relation between brother and sister is reflected in Polynesian tales, as in those of Celtic, Finnish, and Scandinavian countries. Each serves as messenger or go-between for the other in matters of love or revenge, and guards the other's safety by magic arts. Such a condition represents a society in which the family group is closely bound together. For such illustrations compare the Fornander stories of _Halemano, Hinaikamalama, Kalanimanuia, Nihoalaki, Kaulanapokii, Pamano_. The character of accomplished sorceress belongs especially to the helpful sister, a woman of the Malio or Kahalaomapuana type, whose art depends upon a life of solitary virginity. She knows spells, she can see what is going on at a distance, and she can restore the dead to life. In the older stories she generally appears in bird form. In more human tales she wins her brother's wishes by strategy. This is particularly true of the characters in this story, who win their way by wit rather than magic. In this respect the youngest sister of Aiwohikupua should be compared with her prototype, Kaulanapokii, who weaves spells over plants and brings her slain brothers back to life. Kahalaomapuana never performs any such tasks, but she is pictured as invincible in persuasion; she never fails in sagacity, and is always right and always successful. She is, in fact, the most attractive character in the story. It is rather odd, since modern folk belief is firmly convinced of the power of love spells, that none appear in the recorded stories. All is accomplished by strategy.] [Footnote 42: For the translation of this dialogue I am indebted, to the late Dr. Alexander, to whose abstract of the story I was fortunate enough to have access.] CHAPTER X [Footnote 43: To express the interrelation between brothers and sisters two pairs of kinship terms are used, depending upon the age and sex. Sisters speak of brothers as _kaikunane_, and brothers of sisters as _kaikuahine_, but within the same sex _kaikuaana_ for the elder and _kaikaina_ for the younger is used. So on page 431 Aiwohikupua deserts his sisters--_kaikuahine_--and the girls lament for their younger sister--_kaikaina_. After their reunion her older sisters--_kaikuaana_ --ask her counsel. Notice, too, that when, on page 423, the brother bids his youngest sister--_kaikuahine opiopio_--stay with "her sisters" he uses the word _kaikuaana_, because he is thinking of her relation to them, not of his own. The word _pokii,_--"little sister"--is an endearing term used to good effect where the younger sister sings-- "I am going back to your little sisters (_me o'u pokii_) To my older sisters (_kaikuaana_) I return."] [Footnote 44: The line translated "Fed upon the fruit of sin" contains one of those poetic plays upon words so frequent in Polynesian song, so difficult to reproduce in translation. Literally it might read "Sheltering under the great _hala_ tree." But _hala_, also means "sin." This meaning is therefore caught up and employed in the next line--"is constancy then a sin?"--a repetition which is lost in translation. _Malu_, shade, is a doubtful word, which may, according to Andrews, mean "protected," or may stand for "wet and uncomfortable," a doubt evidently depending upon the nature of the case, which adds to the riddling character of the message. In their songs the sisters call up the natural scenery, place names, and childhood experiences of their native home on Kauai. The images used attempt actual description. The slant of the rain, the actual ladder of wood which helps scale the steep footpath up Nualolo Valley (compare _Song of Kualii_, line 269, Lyons' version), the rugged cliffs which are more easily rounded by sea--"swimming 'round the steeps"--picture actual conditions on the island. Notice especially how the song of the youngest sister reiterates the constant theme of the "follow your leader" relation between the brother and his younger sisters. Thus far they have unhesitatingly followed his lead; how, then, can he leave them leaderless? is the plea: first, in their sports at home; next, in this adventure over sea and through the forest; last, in that divine mystery of birth when he first opened the roadway and they, his little sisters, followed after.] CHAPTER XI [Footnote 45: This _ti_-leaf trumpet is constructed from the thin, dry, lilylike leaf of the wild _ti_ much as children make whistles out of grass. It must be recalled that musical instruments were attributed to gods and awakened wonder and awe in Polynesian minds.] CHAPTER XII [Footnote 46: In the story of _Kapuaokaoheloai_ we read that the daughter of the king of Kuaihelani, the younger brother of Hina, has a daughter who lives apart under a sacred taboo, with a bathing pool in which only virgins can safely bathe, and "ministered to by birds." Samoan accounts say that the chiefs kept tame birds in their houses as pets, which fluttered freely about the rafters. A stranger unaccustomed to such a sight might find in it something wonderful and hence supernatural.] CHAPTER XIII [Footnote 47: A strict taboo between man and woman forbade eating together on ordinary occasions. Such were the taboo restrictions that a well-regulated, household must set up at least six separate houses: a temple for the household gods, _heiau_; an eating house for the men, _hale mua_, which was taboo to the women; and four houses especially for the women--the living house, _hale noa_, which the husband might enter; the eating house, _hale aina_; the house of retirement at certain periods, which was taboo for the husband, _hale pea_; and the _kua_, where she beat out tapa. The food also must be cooked in two separate ovens and prepared separately in different food vessels.] [Footnote 48: The place of surf riding in Hawaiian song and story reflects its popularity as a sport. It inspires chants to charm the sea into good surfing--an end also attained by lashing the water with the convolvulus vine of the sea beach; forms the background for many an amorous or competitive adventure; and leaves a number of words in the language descriptive of the surfing technique or of the surf itself at particular localities famous for the sport, as, for example, the "Makaiwa crest" in Moikeha's chant, or the "Huia" of this story. Three kinds of surfing are indulged in--riding the crest in a canoe, called _pa ka waa_; standing or lying flat upon a board, which is cut long, rounded at the front end and square at the back, with slightly convex surfaces, and highly polished; and, most difficult feat of all, riding the wave without support, body submerged and head and shoulders erect. The sport begins out where the high waves form. The foundation of the wave, _honua_, the crest side, _muku_, and the rear, _lala_, are all distinguished. The art of the surfer lies in catching the crest by active paddling and then allowing it to bear him in swift as a race horse to the _hua_, where the wave breaks near the beach. All swimmers know that three or four high waves follow in succession. As the first of these, called the _kulana_, is generally "a high crest which rolls in from end to end of the beach and falls over bodily," the surfer seldom takes it, but waits for the _ohu_ or _opuu_, which is "low, smooth and strong." For other details, see the article by a Hawaiian from Kona, published in the _Hawaiian Annual_, 1896, page 106.] CHAPTER XIV [Footnote 49: _Honi_, to kiss, means to "touch" or "smell," and describes the Polynesian embrace, which is performed by rubbing noses. Williams (I, 152) describes it as "one smelling the other with a strong sniff."] CHAPTER XV [Footnote 50: The abrupt entrance of the great _moo_, as of its disappearance later in the story, is evidently due to the humanized and patched-together form in which we get the old romance. The _moo_ is the animal form which the god takes who serves Aiwohikupua's sisters, and represents the helpful beast of Polynesian folk tale, whose appearance is a natural result of the transformation power ascribed to the true demigod, or _kupua_, in the wilder mythical tales. The myths of the coming of the _moo_ to Hawaii in the days of the gods, and of their subjection by Hiiaka, sister of Pele, are recounted in Westervelt's "Legends of Honolulu" and in Emerson's "Pele and Hiiaka." Malo (p. 114) places Waka also among the lizard gods. These gods seem to have been connected] with the coming of the Pali family to Hawaii as recounted in Liliuokalani's "Song of Creation" and in Malo, page 20. The ritual of the god Lono, whose priests are inferior to those of Ku, is called that of "Paliku" (Malo, 210), a name also applied to the northern part of Hilo district on Hawaii with which this story deals. The name means "vertical precipice," according to Emerson, and refers to the rending by earthquakes. In fact, the description in this story of the approach of the great lizard, as well as his name--the word _kiha_ referring to the writhing convulsions of the body preparatory to sneezing--identify the monster with the earthquakes so common to the Puna and Hilo districts of Hawaii, which border upon the active volcano, Kilauea. Natives say that a great lizard is the guardian spirit or _aumakua_ of this section. At Kalapana is a pool of brackish water in which, they assert, lies the tail of a _moo_ whose head is to be seen at the bottom of a pool a mile and a half distant, at Punaluu; and bathers in this latter place always dive and touch the head in order to avert harm. As the lizard guardians of folk tale are to be found "at the bottom of a pit" (see Fornander's story of _Aukele_), so the little gecko of Hawaii make their homes in cracks along cuts in the _pali_, and the natives fear to harm their eggs lest they "fall off a precipice" according to popular belief. When we consider the ready contractility of Polynesian demigods, the size of the monster dragons of the fabulous tales is no difficulty in the way of their identification with these tiny creatures, the largest of which found on Hawaii is 144 millimeters. By a plausible analogy, then, the earthquake which rends the earth is attributed to the god who clothes himself in the form of a lizard; still further, such a convulsion of nature may have been used to figure the arrival of some warlike band who peopled Hawaii, perhaps settling in this very Hilo region and forcing their cult upon the older form of worship. CHAPTER XVI [Footnote 51: The _ieie_ vine and the sweet-scented fern are, like the _maile_ vine, common in the Olaa forests, and are considered sacred plants dedicated to ceremonial purposes.] [Footnote 52: The fight between two _kupua_, one in lizard form, the other in the form of a dog, occurs in Hawaiian story. Again, when Wahanui goes to Tahiti he touches a land where men are gathering coral for the food of the dead. This island takes the form of a dog to frighten travelers, and is named Kanehunamoku.] [Footnote 53: The season for the bird catcher, _kanaka kia manu_, lay between March and May, when the _lehua_ flowers were in bloom in the upland forest, where the birds of bright plumage congregated, especially the honey eaters, with their long-curved bill, shaped like an insect's proboscis. He armed himself with gum, snares of twisted fiber, and tough wooden spears shaped like long fishing poles, which were the _kia manu_. Having laid his snare and spread it with gum, he tolled the birds to it by decorating it with honey flowers or even transplanting a strange tree to attract their curiosity; he imitated the exact note of the bird he wished to trap or used a tamed bird in a cage as a decoy. All these practical devices must be accompanied by prayer. Emerson translates the following bird charm: Na aumakua i ka Po, Na aumakua i ka Ao, Ia Kane i ka Po, Ia Kanaloa i ka Po, Ia Hoomeha i ka Po, I ko'u mau kapuna a pau loa i ka Po. Spirits of darkness primeval, Spirits of light, To Kane the eternal, To Kanaloa the eternal, To Hoomeha the eternal, To all my ancestors from eternity. Ia Ku-huluhulumanu i ka Po, Ia pale i ka Po, A puka i ke Ao, Owau, o Eleele, ka mea iaia ka mana, Homai he iki, Homai he loaa nui, Pii oukou a ke kuahiwi, A ke kualono, Ho'a mai oukou i ka manu a pau, Hooili oukou iluna o ke kepau kahi e pili ni, Amama! Ua noa. To Kuhuluhulumanu, the eternal. That you may banish the darkness. That we may enter the light. To me, Eleele, give divine power. Give intelligence. Give great success. Climb to the wooded mountains. To the mountain ridges. Gather all the birds. Bring them to my gum to be held fast. Amen, it is finished.] CHAPTER XVII [Footnote 54: For the cloud sign compare the story of Kualii's battles and in Westervelt's _Lepeamoa_ (Legends of Honolulu, p. 217), the fight with the water monster.] [Footnote 55: Of Hawaiians at prayer Dibble says: "The people were in the habit of praying every morning to the gods, clapping their hands as they muttered a set form of words in a singsong voice."] CHAPTER XVIII [Footnote 56: The three mountain domes of Hawaii rise from 13,000 to 8,000 feet above the sea, and the two highest are in the wintertime often capped with snow.] [Footnote 57: The games of _kilu_ and _ume_, which furnished the popular evening entertainment of chiefs, were in form much like our "Spin the plate" and "Forfeits." _Kilu_ was played with "a funnel-shaped toy fashioned from the upper portion of a drinking gourd, adorned with the _pawehe_ ornamentation characteristic of Niihau calabashes." The player must spin the gourd in such a way as to hit the stake set up for his side. Each hit counted 5, 40 scoring a game. Each player sang a song before trying his hand, and the forfeit of a _hula_ dance was exacted for a miss, the successful spinner claiming for his forfeit the favor of one of the women on the other side. _Ume_ was merely a method of choosing partners by the master of ceremonies touching with a wand, called the _maile_, the couple selected for the forfeit, while he sang a jesting song. The sudden personal turn at the close of many of the _oli_ may perhaps be accounted for by their composition for this game. The _kaeke_ dance is that form of _hula_ in which the beat is made on a _kaekeeke_ instrument, a hollow bamboo cylinder struck upon the ground with a clear hollow sound, said to have been introduced by Laamaikahiki, the son of Moikeha, from Tahiti.] CHAPTER XIX [Footnote 58: In the story of Kauakahialii, his home at Pihanakalani is located in the mountains of Kauai back of the ridge Kuamoo, where, in spite of its inland position, he possesses a fishpond well stocked with fish.] [Footnote 59: The Hawaiian custom of group marriages between brothers or sisters is clearly brought out in this and other passages in the story. "Guard our wife"--_Ka wahine a kaua_--says the Kauai chief to his comrade, "she belongs to us two"--_ia ia kaua_. The sisters of Aiwohikupua call their mistress's husband "our husband"--_ka kakou kane_. So Laieikawai's younger sister is called the "young wife"--_wahine opio_--of Laieikawai's husband, and her husband is called his _punalua_, which is a term used between friends who have wives in common, or women who have common husbands.] [Footnote 60: The Hawaiian flute is believed to be of ancient origin. It is made of a bamboo joint pierced with holes and blown through the nose while the right hand plays the stops. The range is said to comprise five notes. The name Kanikawi means "changing sound" and is the same as that given to Kaponohu's supernatural spear.] CHAPTER XX [Footnote 61: At the accession of a new chief in Hawaii the land is redistributed among his followers.] [Footnote 62: The names of Malio and Halaaniani are still to be found in Puna. Ellis (1825) notes the name Malio as one of three hills (evidently transformed demigods), which, according to tradition, joined at the base to block an immense flow of lava at Pualaa, Puna. Off the coast between Kalapana and Kahawalea lies a rock shaped like a headless human form and called Halaaniani, although its legend retains no trace of the Puna rascal.] CHAPTER XXI [Footnote 63: The _huia_ is a specially high wave formed by the meeting of two crests, and is said to be characteristic of the surf at Kaipalaoa, Hawaii.] [Footnote 64: Kumukahi is a bold cape of black lava on the extreme easterly point of the group. Beyond this cape stretches the limitless, landless Pacific. Against its fissured sides seethes and booms the swell from the ocean, in a dash of foaming spray. Piles of rocks mark the visits of chiefs to this sacred spot, and tombs of the dead abut upon its level heights. A visitor to this spot sees a magnificent horizon circling the wide heavens, hears the constant boom of the tides pulling across the measureless waters. It is one of the noteworthy places of Puna, often sung in ancient lays.] CHAPTER XXII [Footnote 65: The name of Laieikawai occurs in no old chants with which I am familiar. But in the story of _Umi_, the mother of his wife, Piikea, is called Laielohelohe. She is wife of Piilani and has four children who "have possession on the edge of the tabu," of whom Piikea is the first-born, and the famous rival chiefs of Maui, Lonopili, and Kihapiilani, are the next two; the last is Kalanilonoakea, who is described in the chant quoted by Fornander as white-skinned and wearing a white loin cloth. Umi's wife is traditionally descended from the Spaniards wrecked on the coast of Hawaii (see Lesson). The "Song of Creation" repeats the same genealogy and calls Laielohelohe the daughter of Keleanuinohoonaapiapi. In the "ninth era" of the same song Lohelohe is "the last one born of Lailai" and is "a woman of dark skin," who lived in Nuumealani.] [Footnote 66: To preserve the umbilical cord in order to lengthen the life of a child was one of the first duties of a guardian. J.S. Emerson says that the _piko_ was saved in a bottle or salted and wrapped in tapa until a suitable time came to deposit it in some sacred place. Such a depository was to be found on Oahu, according to Westervelt, in two rocks in the Nuuanu valley, the transformed _moo_ women, Hauola and Haupuu. In Hawaii, in Puna district, on the north and south boundaries of Apuki, lie two smooth lava mounds whose surfaces are marked with cup hollows curiously ringed. Pictographs cover other surfaces. These are named Puuloa and Puumahawalea, or "Hill of long life" and "Hill that brings together with rejoicing," and the natives tell me that within their own lifetime pilgrimages have been made to this spot to deposit the _piko_ within some hollow, cover it with a stone, and thus insure long life to the newborn infant.] CHAPTER XXIV [Footnote 67: More than 470 species of land snails of a single genus, _Achatinella_, are to be found in the mountains of Hawaii, a fact of marked interest to science in observing environmental effect upon the differentiation of species. One of these the natives call _pupu kani oi_ or "shrill voiced snail," averring that a certain cricketlike chirp that rings through the stillness of the almost insectless valleys is the voice of this particular species. Emerson says that the name _kahuli_ is applied to the land snail to describe the peculiar tilting motion as the snail crawls first to one side and then to the other of the leaf. He quotes a little song that runs: Kahuli aku, kahuli mai, Kahuli lei ula, lei akolea. Kolea, kolea, e kii ka wai, Wai akolea. Tilting this way and that Tilts the red fern-plume. Plover, plover, bring me dew, Dew from the fern-plume.] [Footnote 68: This incident is unsatisfactorily treated. We never know how Waka circumvented Malio and restored her grandchild to the husband designed for her. The whole thing sounds like a dramatic innovation with farcical import, which appeared in the tale without motivation for the reason that it had none in its inception. The oral narrator is rather an actor than a composer; he may have introduced this episode as a surprise, and its success as farce perpetuated it as romance.] CHAPTER XXVI [Footnote 69: This episode of the storm is another inconsistency in the story. The storm signs belong to the gods of Aiwohikupua and his brother, the Sun god, not to Laieikawai, and were certainly not hers when Waka deserted her. If they were given her for protection by Kahalaomapuana or through the influence of the seer with the Kauai family, the story-teller does not inform us of the fact.] [Footnote 70: The _pa-u_ is a woman's main garment, and consists of five thicknesses of bark cloth 4 yards long and 3 or 4 feet wide, the outer printed in colors, and worn wrapped about the loins, reaching the knees.] CHAPTER XXVII [Footnote 71: In mythical quest stories the hero or heroine seeks, by proving his relationship, generally on the mother's side, to gain the favor of the supernatural guardian of whatever treasure he seeks. By breaking down the taboo he proclaims his rank, and by forcing the attention of the relative before the angry god (or chief) has a chance to kill him (compare the story of _Kalaniamanuia_, where the father recognizes too late the son whom he has slain), he gains time to reveal himself. In this episode the father's beard is, like the locks of Dionysus in Euripides' line, dedicated to the god, hence to seize it was a supreme act of lawlessness.] [Footnote 72: According to the old Polynesian system of age groups, the "mother's brother" bears the relation to the child of _makua_ equally with his real parents. Kahalaomapuana says to her father: "I am your child (_kama_), The child of Laukieleula, The child of Mokukelekahiki, The child of Kaeloikamalama." thus claiming rank from all four sources. Owing to inbreeding and this multiple method of inheriting title, Polynesian children may be of higher rank than either parent. The form of colloquy which follows each encounter (compare Kila's journey to Tahiti) is merely the customary salutation in meeting a stranger, according to Hawaiian etiquette.] [Footnote 73: The name Laukieleula means "Red-kiele-leaf." The kiele, Andrews says, is "a sweet-scented flower growing in the forest," and is identified by some natives with the gardenia, of which there are two varieties native in Hawaii; but the form does not occur in any chants with which I am familiar. It is probably selected to express the idea of fragrance, which seems to be the _kupua_ property of the mother's side of the family. It is the rareness of fragrant plants indigenous to the islands, coupled with sensuous delight in odor, which gives to perfume the attributes of deity, and to those few varieties which possess distinct scent like the _maile_ and _hala_, a conspicuous place in religious ceremonial. The name of Moanalihaikawaokele, on the other hand, appears in the "Song of Creation," in the eighth era where the generations of Uli are sung. In the time of calm is born the woman Lailai, and after her the gods Kii, Kane, and Kanaloa, and it is day. Then "The drums are born, Called Moanaliha, Kawaomaaukele came next, The last was Kupololiilialiimuaoloipo, A man of long life and very high rank." There follow 34 pages devoted to the history and generations of this family before the death of this last chief is recorded. Now it is clear that out of the first two names, Moanaliha and Kawao(maau)kele, is compounded that of the storm god. This would place him in the era of the gods as the father of Ku and ancestor of the Uli line.] CHAPTER XXVIII [Footnote 74: The story of the slaying of Halulu in the legend of _Aukelenuiaiku_ is a close parallel to the Indian account of the adventure with the thunder bird. (See Matthews's "Navajo legends.") The thunder bird is often mentioned in Hawaiian chants. In the "Song of Creation" the last stanza of the third or bird era points out "--the leaping point of the bird Halulu, Of Kiwaa, the bird of many notes, And of those birds that fly close together and shade the sun."] [Footnote 75: The divine approach marked by thunder and lightning, shaken by earthquake and storm, indicates the _kupua_ bodies in which the Sun god travels in his descent to earth. There are many parallels to be found in the folk stories. When the sister of Halemano sets out to woo the beauty of Puna she says: "When the lightning flashes, I am at Maui; when it thunders I am at Kohala; when the earth quakes, at Hamakua; when freshets stain the streams red, I am at Puna." When Hoamakeikekula, the beauty of Kohala, weds, "thunder was heard, lightning flashed, rain came down in torrents, hills were covered with fog; for ten days mist covered the earth." When Uweuwelekehau, son of Ku and Hula, is born "thunder, lightning, earthquake, water, floods and rain" attend his birth. In Aukelenuiaiku, when the wife of Makalii comes out of her house her beauty overshadows the rays of the sun, "darkness covered the land, the red rain, fog, and fine rain followed each other, then freshets flowed and lightning played in the heavens; after this the form of the woman, was seen coming along over the tips of the fingers of her servants, in all her beauty, the sun shone at her back and the rainbow was as though it were her footstool." In the prayer to the god Lono, quoted by Fornander, II, 352, we read: "These are the sacred signs of the assembly; Bursting forth is the voice of the thunder; Striking are the rays of the lightning; Shaking the earth is the earthquake; Coming is the dark cloud and the rainbow; Wildly comes the rain and the wind; Whirlwinds sweep over the earth; Rolling down are the rocks of the ravines; The red mountain streams are rushing to the sea; Here the waterspouts; Tumbled about are the clustering clouds of heaven; Gushing forth are the springs of the mountains."] CHAPTER XXXIV [Footnote 75: Kaonohiokala, Mr. Emerson tells me, is the name of one of the evil spirits invoked by the priest in the art of _po'iuhane_ or "soul-catching." The spirit is sent by the priest to entice the soul of an enemy while its owner sleeps, in order that he may catch it in a coconut gourd and crush it to death between his hands. "_Lapu lapuwale_" is the Hawaiian rendering of Solomon's ejaculation "Vanity of vanities!"] [Illustration: A NATIVE GRASS HOUSE OF THE HUMBLER CLASS (HENSHAW)] APPENDIX HAWAIIAN STORIES ABSTRACTS FROM THE TALES COLLECTED BY FORNANDER AND EDITED BY THOMAS G. THRUM. THE BISHOP MUSEUM, HONOLULU HAWAIIAN STORIES I. SONG of CREATION, as translated by Liliuokalani II. CHANTS RELATING THE ORIGIN OF THE GROUP: From the Fornander manuscript: A. Kahakuikamoana B. Pakui C. Kamahualele D. Opukahonua E. Kukailani F. Kualii III. HAWAIIAN FOLKTALES, ROMANCES, OR MOOLELO: From the Fornander manuscript: A. Hero tales primarily of Oahu and Kauai 1. Aukelenuiaiku 2. Hinaaikamalama 3. Kaulu 4. Palila 5. Aiai 6. Puniaiki 7. Pikoiakaalala 8. Kawelo 9. Kualii 10. Opelemoemoe 11. Kalelealuaka B. Hero tales primarily of Hawaii 1. Wahanui 2. Kamapuaa 3. Kana 4. Kapunohu 5. Kepakailiula 6. Kaipalaoa 7. Moikeha 8. Kila 9. Umi 10. Kihapiilani (of Maui) 11. Pakaa and Kuapakaa 12. Kalaepuni 13. Kalaehina 14. Lonoikamakahiki 15. Keaweikekahialii (an incident) 16. Kekuhaupio (an incident) C. Love stories 1. Halemano 2. Uweuwelekehau 3. Laukiamanuikahiki 4. Hoamakeikekula 5. Kapunokaoheloai D. Ghost stories and tales of men brought to life 1. Oahu stories Kahalaopuna Kalanimanuia Pumaia Nihoalaki 2. Maui stories Eleio Pamano 3. Hawaii stories Kaulanapokii Pupuhuluena Hiku and Kawelu E. Trickster stories 1. Thefts Iwa Maniniholokuaua Pupualenalena 2. Contests with spirits Kaululaau (see Eleio) Lepe Hanaaumoe Punia Wakaina 3. Stories of modern cunning Kulepe Kawaunuiaola Maiauhaalenalenaupena Waawaaikinaaupo and Waawaaikinaanao Kuauamoa I. SONG OF CREATION (HEKUMULIPO) The "account of the creation of the world according to Hawaiian tradition" is said to celebrate Lonoikamakahiki, also called Kaiimamao, who was the father of Kalaniopuu, king of Hawaii at the time of Cook's visit. The song was "composed by Keaulumoku in 1700" and handed down by the chanters of the royal line since that day. It was translated by "Liliuokalani of Hawaii" in 1895-1897, and published in Boston, 1897. From the Sea-bottom (?) (the male) and Darkness (the female) are born the coral insect, the starfish, sea urchin, and the shellfish. Next seaweed and grasses are born. Meanwhile land has arisen, and in the next era fishes of the sea and plants of the forest appear. Next are born the generations of insects and birds; after these the reptiles--all the "rolling, clinging" creatures. In the fifth era is born a creature half pig, half man; the races of men also appear (?). In the sixth come the rats; in the seventh, dogs and bats; in the eighth is born the woman Lailai (calmness), the man Kii, and the gods Kane and "the great octopus" Kanaloa. Lailai flies to heaven, rests upon "the boughs of the _aoa_ tree in Nuumealani," and bears the earth. She weds Kii and begets a generation of gods and demigods. In the course of these appear Wakea and his three wives, Haumea, Papa, and Hoohokukalani. Wakea, becoming unfaithful to Papa, changes the feast days and establishes the taboo. Later the stars are hung in the heavens. Wakea seeks in the sea for "seeds from Hina," with which to strew the heavens. Hina floats up from the bottom of the sea and bears sea creatures and volcanic rocks. Haumea, a stranger of high rank from Kuaihelani at Paliuli, marries her own sons and grandsons. To her line belong Waolena and his wife Mafuie, whose grandchild, Maui, is born in the shape of a fowl. The brothers of his mother, Hina, are angry and fight Maui, but are thrown. They send him to fetch a branch from the sacred _awa_ bush; this, too, he achieves. He desires to learn the art of fishing, and his mother gives him a hook and line with which he catches "the royal fish Pimoe." He "scratches the eight eyes" of the bat who abducts Hina. He nooses the sun and so wins summer. He conquers (?) Hawaii, Maui, Kauai, and Oahu. From him descends "the only high chief of the island." H. CHANTS RELATING THE ORIGIN OF THE GROUP A. KAHAKUIKAMOANA This famous priest chants the history of "the row of islands from Nuumea; the group of islands from the entrance to Kahiki." First Hawaii is born, "out of darkness," then Maui, then Molokai "of royal lineage." Lanai is a foster child, Kahoolawe a foundling, of whose afterbirth is formed the rock island Molokini. Oahu and Kauai have the same mother but different fathers. Another pair bear the triplets, the islets Niihau, Kaulu, and Nihoa. B. PAKUI According to this high priest and historian of Kamehameha I, from Wakea and Papa are born Kahikiku, Kahikimoe ("the foundation stones," "the stones of heaven"), Hawaii, and Maui. While Papa is on a visit to Kahiki, Wakea takes another wife and begets Lanai, then takes Hina to wife and begets Molokai. The plover tells Papa on her return, and she in revenge bears to Lua the child Oahu. After this she returns to Wakea and bears Kauai and its neighboring islets. C. KAMAHUALELE The foster son of Moikeha accompanies this chief on the journey to Hawaii and Kauai. On sighting land at Hawaii he chants a song in honor of his chief in which he calls Hawaii a "man," "child of Kahiki," and "royal offspring from Kapaahu." D. OPUKAHONUA This man with his two brothers and a woman peopled Hawaii 95 generations before Kamehameha. According to his chant, the islands are fished up from Kapaahu by Kapuheeuanui, who brings up one piece of coral after another, and, offering sacrifices and prayers to each, throws it back into the ocean, so creating in succession Hawaii, Maui, Kauai, and the rest of the islands of the group. E. KUKAILANI A powerful priest, 75 generations from Opukahonua, on the occasion of the sacrifice in the temple of the rebel Iwikauikana by Kenaloakuaana, king of Maui, chants the genealogies, dividing them into the time from the migration from Kahiki to Pili, Pili to Wakea, Wakea to Waia, and Waia to Liloa. F. KUALII The song of Kualii was composed about 1700 to celebrate the royal conqueror of Oahu. It opens with an obscure allusion to the fishing up by Maui from the hill Kauwiki, of the island of Hawaii, out of the bottom of the sea, and the fetching of the gods Kane and Kanaloa, Kauakahi and Maliu, to these islands. III. HAWAIIAN FOLK TALES, ROMANCES, OR MOOLELO A. HERO TALES PRIMARILY OF OAHU AND KAUAI 1. AUKELENUIAIKU[1] The eleventh child of Iku and Kapapaiakea in Kuaihelani is his father's favorite, and to him Iku wills his rank and his kingdom. The brothers are jealous and seek to kill him. They go through the Hawaiian group to compete in boxing and wrestling, defeat Kealohikikaupea, the strong man of Kauai; Kaikipaananea, Kupukupukehaikalani, and Kupukupukehaiaiku, three strong men of Oahu, and King Kakaalaneo of Maui; but are afraid when they hear of Kepakailiula, the strong man of Hawaii, and return to Kuaihelani. Aukelenuiaiku has grown straight and faultless. "His skin is like the ripe banana and his eyeballs like the blood of the banana as it first appears." He wants to join his brothers in a wrestling match, but is forbidden by the father, who fears their jealousy. He steals away and shoots an arrow into their midst; it is a twisted arrow, theirs are jointed. The brothers are angry, but when one of them strikes the lad, his own arm is broken. The younger brother takes up each one in turn and throws him into the sea. The brothers pretend friendship and invite him into the house, but only to throw him into the pit Kamooinanea, where lives the lizard grandmother who devours men. She saves her grandchild and instructs him how to reach the queen, Namakaokahai. For the journey she furnishes him with a box for his god, Lonoikoualii; a leaf, _laukahi_, to satisfy his hunger; an ax and a knife; her own tail, in which lies the strength of her body; and her feather skirt and _kahili_, by shaking which he can reduce his enemies to ashes. When his brothers see him return safe from the pit they determine to flee to foreign lands. They make one more attempt to kill him by shutting him into a water hole, but one soft-hearted brother lets him out. The hero then persuades the brothers to let him accompany them. On the way he feeds them with "food and meat" from his club, Kaiwakaapu. They sail eight months, touch at Holaniku, where they get _awa_, sugar cane, bananas, and coconuts, and arrive in four months more at Lalakeenuiakane, the land of Queen Namakaokahai. The queen is guarded by four brothers in bird form, Kanemoe, Kaneapua, Leapua and Kahaumana, by two maid servants in animal form, and by a dog, Moela. The whole party is reduced to ashes at the shaking of the queen's skirt, except the hero, who escapes and by his good looks and quick wit wins the friendship of the queen's maids and her brothers. When he approaches the queen he must encounter certain tests. The dog he turns into ashes; to befriend him the maids run away and the bird brothers transform themselves into a rock, a log, a coral rock, and a hard blue rock, in order to hide themselves. He escapes poisoned food set before him. Then he worships each one by name, and they are astounded at his knowledge. The queen therefore takes him as her husband. She is part human, part divine; the moon is her grandfather, the thunder-and-lightning-bolt is her uncle. Aukelanuiaiku must know her taboos, eat where she bids him, not come to her unless she leads him in. The bird Halulu with feathers on her forehead, called Hinawaikolii, who is the queen's cousin, carries the hero away to her nest in the cliff, but he kills her with his ax, and her mate, Kiwaha, lets him down on a rainbow. The two live happily. Their first child is to be called Kauwilanuimakehaikalani, "the lightning seen in a rainstorm," and for him sugar cane, potato, banana and taro are tabooed. The queen can return to life if cut to pieces; can turn herself into a cliff, a roaring fire, and a great ocean; and has the power of flight. All her tricks the queen and her brothers teach to the hero. Then she sends him with her brothers to meet her relatives. He goes ahead of his guides, encounters Kuwahailo, who sends against him two bolts of fire, Kukuena and Mahuia, and two thunder rocks, Ikuwa and Welehu, all of which he wards off like a puff of wind. Next they meet Makalii and his wife, the beautiful Malanaikuaheahea. The next adventure is after the water of life with which to restore the brothers to life. The first trip is unsuccessful. Instead of flying in a straight line between the sky (_lewa_) and space (_nenelu_--literally, mud) the hero falls into space and is obliged to cling to the moon for support. Meanwhile his wife thinks him dead and has summoned Night, Day, Sun, Stars, Thunder, Rainbow, Lightning, Water-spout, Fog, Fine rain, etc., to mourn for him. Then, through her supernatural knowledge she hears him declare to the moon, her grandfather, Kaukihikamalama, his birth and ancestry, and learns for the first time that they are related. On the next trip he reaches a deep pit, at the bottom of which is the well of everlasting life, the property of Kamohoalii. It is guarded by two maternal uncles of the hero, Kanenaiau and Hawewe and a maternal aunt, Luahinekaikapu, the sister of the lizard grandmother, who is blind. The hero steals the bananas she is roasting, dodges her anger, and restores her sight. She paints up his hands to look like Kamohoalii's and the guards at the well hand him the gourd Huawaiakaula with its string network called Paleaikaahalanalana. The rustling of the _lama_ trees, the _loulou_ palms and the bamboo, as Aukelenuiaiku retreats, wakens Kamohoalii, who pursues; but with a start of one year and six months, the hero can not be overtaken. The brothers are restored to life and the hero hands over to them his wife and kingdom and lives humbly. When he woos Pele and Hiiaka, his wife drives them over seas until they come to Maunaloa, Hawaii. Then the brothers leave for Kuaihelani, and Aukelenuiaiku desires also to see his native land again. There he finds the lizard grandmother overgrown with coral and his parents gone to Kauai. [Footnote 1: Compare Westervelt's Gods and Ghosts, p. 66.] 2. HINAAIKAMALAMA Kaiuli and Kaikea are gods who change into _Paoo_ fish and live in the bottom of the sea in Kahikihonuakele. They have two children, the girl Hinaluaikoa and the boy Kukeapua. These two have 10 children, Hinaakeahi, Hinaaimalama, Hinapaleaoana, Hinaluaimoa, all girls, Iheihe, a boy, Moahelehaku, Kiimaluhaku, and Kanikaea, girls, and the boys Kipapalaula and Luaehu. As Hinaaikamalama is the most beautiful she is placed under strict taboo under guard of her brother Kipapalaula. He is banished for neglect of duty, crawls through a crack at Kawaluna at the edge of the great ocean. The king treats him kindly, hence he returns and gets his sister to be the king's wife. In her calabash, called Kipapalaulu, she carries the moon for food and the stars for fish. King Konikonia and Hinaaikamalama have 10 children, the youngest of whom, the boy Maikoha, is found to be guilty of sacrilege and banished. He goes to Kaupo and changes into the _wauke_ plant. His sisters coming in search of him, land at Oahu and turn into fish ponds--Kaihuopalaai into Kapapaapuhi pond at Ewa; Kaihukoa into Kaena at Waianae; Kawailoa into Ihukoko at Waialua, and Ihukuuna into Laniloa at Laie. Kaneaukai, their brother, comes to look for them in the form of a log. It drifts ashore at Kealia, Waialua, changes into a man, and becomes fish god for two old men at Kapaeloa.[1] [Footnote 1: The rock called Kaneaukai, "Man-floating-on-the-sea," on the shore below Waimea, Oahu, is still worshiped with offerings. The local story tells how two old men fish up the same rock three times. Then they say, "It is a god," and, in spite of the weight of the rock, carry it inshore and place it where it now stands and make it their fish god. Thrum tells this, story, p. 250.] 3. KAULU Kukaohialaka and Hinauluohia live in Kailua, Oahu, with their two sons, Kaeha and Kamano. A third, Kaulu, remains five years unborn because he has heard Kamano threaten to kill him. Then he is born in the shape of a rope, and Kaeho puts him on an upper shelf until he grows into a boy. Meanwhile Kaeha is carried away by spirits to Lewanuu and Lewalani where Kane and Kanaloa live, and Kaulu goes in search of him. On the way he defeats and breaks into bits the opposing surfs and the dog Kuililoloa, hence surf and dogs remain small. In the spirit land he fools the spirits, then visits the land where their food is raised, Monowaikeoo, guarded by Uweleki and Uweleka, Maaleka, and Maalaki. He fools these guards into promising him all he can eat, and devours everything, even obscuring the rays of the sun. In revenge the shark Kukamaulunuiakea swallows his brother. Kaulu drinks the sea dry in search for him, catches a thunder rock on his _poi_ finger, and forces Makalii to tell him where Kaeho is. Then he spits out the sea and this is why the sea is salt. The dead shark becomes the milky way. The brothers return to Oahu, and Kaulu kills Haumea, a female spirit, at Niuhelewai, by catching her in a net got from Makalii. Next he kills Lonokaeho, also called Piokeanuenue, king of Koolau, by singing an incantation which makes his forehead fast to the ground on the hill of Olomana.[1] After Kaeha's death, Kaulu marries Kekele, but they have no children. [Footnote 1: See _Kamapuaa_, where the same feat is described.] 4. PALILA Palila, son of Kaluapalena, chief over one-half of Kauai, and of Mahinui the daughter of Hina, is born at Kamooloa, Koloa, Kauai, in the form of a cord and cast out upon the rubbish heap whence he is rescued by Hina and brought up in the temple of Alanapo among the spirits, where he is fed upon nothing but bananas. The other chief of Kauai, Namakaokalani, is at war with his father. Hina sends Palila to offer his services. With his war club he fells forests as he travels and makes hollows in the ground. When he arrives before his father, all fall on their faces until Hina rolls over their bodies to make Palila laugh and thus remove the taboo. As he stands on a rise of ground, Maunakalika, with his robe Hakaula, and his mat Ikuwa, she circumcises Palila and returns with him to Alanapo. When Palila leaves home to fight monsters, he travels by throwing his club and hanging to one end. The first throw is to Uualolo cliff on Kamaile, the next to Kaena Point, Oahu, thence to Kalena, to Pohakea, Maunauna, Kanehoa, Keahumoa, and finally to Waikele. The king of Oahu, Ahuapau, offers the rule of Oahu to anyone who can slay the shark man, Kamaikaakui. After effecting this, Palila (who has inherited the nature of a spirit from his mother), is carried to the temple and made all human, in order to wed the king's daughter. He slays Olomana, the greatest warrior on Oahu, goes fishing successfully with Kahului, with war club for paddle and fishhook, then, with his club to aid him, springs to Molokai, Lanai, Maui, and thence to Kaula, Hawaii. Hina's sister Lupea becomes his attendant. She is a _hau_ tree, and where Palila's malo is hung no _hau_ tree grows to this day, through the power of Ku, Palila's god. The kings of Hilo and Hamakua districts, Kulukulua and Wanua, are at war. Palila fights secretly, known only by a voice which at each victim calls "slain by me, Palila, by the offspring of Walewale, by the word of Lupea, by the _oo_ bird that sings in the forest, by the mighty god Ku." Finally he makes himself known and kills Moananuikalehua, whose war club, Koholalele, takes 700 men to carry; Kumunuiaiake, whose spear of _mamane_ wood from Kawaihae can be thrown farther than one _ahupuaa_; and Puupuukaamai, whose spear of hard _koaie_ wood can kill 1,200 at a stroke. The jaw bones of these heroes he hangs on the tree Kahakaauhae. Kulukulua is made ruler; finally Palila becomes king of Hilo. 5. AIAI Kuula and Hina live at Molopa, Nuuanu. They possess a pearl fish hook called Kanoi, guarded by the bird Kamanuwai, who lives upon the _aku_ fish caught by the magic hook. When Kipapalaulu, king of Honolulu, steals the hook, the bird sleeps from hunger, hence the name of the locality. Kaumakapili, "perching with closed eyes." Hina bears an abortive child which she throws into the water. It drifts to a rock below the Hoolilimanu bridge and floats there. This child is Aiai. The king's daughter discovers it, brings up the child, and when he becomes a handsome youth, she marries him. One day she craves the _aku_ fish. Her husband, Aiai, persuades her to beg the stolen hook of her father. Thus he secures the hook and returns it to its bird guardian.[1] [Footnote 1: Compare the fishhook Pahuhu in _Nihoalaki_; the _leho_ shells in _Iwa_, and the pearl fishhook of Kona in _Kaulanapokii_. In Thrum's story from Moke Manu (p. 230) Aiai is the son of the fish god, Kuula, and, like his father, acts as a culture hero who locates the fishing grounds and teaches the art of making fish nets for various kinds of fishes. The hero of this story is Aiai's son, Puniaiki.] 6. PUNIAIKI The handsome son of Kuupia and of Halekou of Kaneohe, Oahu, who nurses Uhumakaikai, the parent of all the fishes, is furnished with whatever fish he wants. He marries Kaalaea, a handsome and well-behaved woman of the district, who brings him no dowry, but to whom he and his father make gifts according to custom. With his mother's permission he goes to live in her home, but the aunt insults him because he does nothing but sleep. The family offer to kill her, but he broods over his wrong, leaves for Kauai, and, on a wager, bids his mother use her influence to send the fish thither. They come just in time to save his life and to win for him the island of Kauai. But his pet fish laments his unfaithfulness to his home, he takes it up and kisses it and returns to Oahu. 7. PIKOIAKAALALA Raven is the father, Koukou the mother, Hat and Bat the sisters, and Pikoiakaalala the brother of the rat family of Wailua, Kauai, who change into human beings. The sisters marry men of note. Pikoiakaalala wins in his first attempt to float the _Koieie_ board, then follows it down the rapids and swims to Oahu. Here he beats Mainele, the champion rat shooter, by summoning the rats in a chant and then shooting ten rats and one bat at once. Then he defeats him in a riddling contest in which the play turns upon the word rat. On Hawaii the king, Keawenuiaumi, wants the birds shot because they deceive his canoe builders and prevent any trees from being felled. Pikoiakaalala succeeds in shooting them by watching their reflection in a basin of water. 8. KAWELO When Kawelo is born to Maihuna and Malaiakalani in Hanamaulu, Kauai, the fourth of five children, the maternal grandparents foresee that he is to be a wonder, and they offer to bring him up at Wailua, where Aikanaka, the king's son, and Kauahoa of Hanalei are his companions. Later the parents take him to Oahu, where Kakuhewa is king, and live at Waikiki, where Kawelo marries Kanewahineikiaoha, daughter of a famous warrior, Kalonaikahailaau, from whom he learns the art of war. Fishing he learns from Maakuakeke. On his parents' return to Kauai they are abused of their property, and summon Kawelo to redress their wrongs. He sends his' wife to fetch the stroke Wahieloa from his father-in-law, who heaps abuse upon the son-in-law, not aware that Kawelo hears all his derisive comments through his god Kalanikilo. A fight follows in which the son-in-law knocks out the old man and proves his competence as a pupil. The Oahu king furnishes a canoe in which Kawelo sets out for Kauai with his wife, his brother, Kamalama, and other followers, of whom Kalaumeki and Kaeleha are chief. On Kauai he and his brother defeat all the champions of Aikanaka, with their followers, one after the other, finally slaying his old playmate Kauahoa, this with the aid of his wife, who tangles her _pikoi_ ball in the end of his opponent's war club. In the division of land that follows this victory Kona falls to his brother and Koolau and Puna to his two chief warriors. But Kaelehu visits Aikanaka at Hanapepe, falls in love with his daughter, and persuades himself that he could do better by taking up the cause of the defeated chief. Knowing that Kawelo has never learned the art of dodging stones, they bury him in a shower of rocks, beat him with a club, and leave him, for dead. He revives when carried to the temple for sacrifice, rises, and slays them all; not one escapes. 9. KUALII Kualii's first battle happens before he is a man, when he and his father dedicate the temple on Kawaluna, Oahu, as an act of rebellion. The chiefs of Oahu come against him with three armies, but Kualii, with his warriors, Maheleana and Malanaihaehae, and his war club, Manaiakalani, slays the enemy chiefs and beats back 12,000 men at Kalena. Later he conducts a successful campaign in Hawaii, establishes Paepae against the rebel faction of Molokai, and pacifies Haloalena, who is rebelling against the king of Maui. In this campaign he secures the bold and mischievous Kauhi as his follower, who is in time his chief warrior. As Kualii grows stronger, he goes in disguise to battle, kills the bravest chief, secures his feather cloak, and runs home with it. A lad who sees him pass each day runs after and cuts a finger from the dead enemy, after the battle of Kalakoa, and reveals the true hero of the day.[1] The chant to Kualii is composed by two brothers, Kapaahulani and Kamakaaulani, who are in search of a new lord. On the day of battle at Kaahumoa one joins each army; one brother leads Kualii's forces to an appointed spot and the other attempts to pacify the chief with the prearranged chant, in which he is successful; the brothers are raised to honor and peace is declared. Kualii lives to old age, when he is "carried to battle in a net of strings." His genealogical tree carries his ancestry back to Kane, and Kualii himself has the knowledge and attributes of a god. [Footnote 1: Compare _Kalelealuaka_.] 10. OPELEMOEMOE A man of Kalauao, Ewa, Oahu, has a habit of falling into a supernatural sleep for a month at a time. In such a sleep he is taken to be sacrificed at the temple of Polomauna, Kauai, but waking at the sound of thunder, he goes to Waimea, where he marries, and cultivates land. When the time comes for his sleep, he warns his wife, but she and her brothers and servants decide to drop him into the sea. When the month is up, it thunders, he wakens, finds himself tied in the bottom of the sea, breaks loose and comes back to his wife. Before their son is born he leaves her and returns to Oahu. The child is born, is abused by his stepfather, and finding he has a different father, follows Opelemoemoe to Oahu. The rest of his story is told under Kalelealuaka. 11. KALELEALUAKA Kakuhihewa, king of Ewa, on Oahu, and Pueonui, king from Moanalua to Makapuu, are at war with each other. Kalelealuaka, son of Opelemoemoe, the sleeper, lives with his companion, Keinohoomanawanui, at Oahunui. He is a dreamer; that is, a man who wants everything without working for it. One night the two chant their wishes. His companion desires a good meal and success in his daily avocations, but Kalelealuaka wishes for the king's food served by the king himself, and the king's daughter for his wife. Now Kakuhihewa has night after night seen the men's light and wondered who it might be. This night he comes to the hut, overhears the wish, and making himself known to the daring man, fulfills his wish to the, letter. Thus Kalelealuaka becomes the king's son-in-law. When the battle is on with the rival king, Kalelealuaka's companion goes off to war, but Kalelealuaka remains at home. When all are gone, he runs off like the wind, slays Pueo's best captain and brings home his feather cloak, while his friend gets the praise for the deed. Finally he is discovered, he brings out the feather cloaks and is made king of Oahu, Kakuhihewa serving under him. B. HERO TALES PRIMARILY OF HAWAII 1. WAHANUI Wahanui, king of Hawaii, makes a vow to "trample the breasts of Kane and Kanaloa."[1] He takes his prophet, Kilohi, and starts for Kahiki. Kane and Kanaloa have left their younger brother, Kaneapua, on Lanai, because he made their spring water filthy. He forces himself upon Wahanui, and saves him from the dangers of the way--from the land of Kanehunamoku, which takes the shape of Hina's dog; from the two demigod hills, Paliuli and Palikea, sent against them by Kane and Kanaloa; and from a 10 days' storm loosened from the calabash of Laamaomao, which they escape by making their boat fast to the intestines of Kamapuaa's grandmother under the sea. When Wahanui has fulfilled his quest and sets out to return, Kaneapua gives him his double-bodied god, Pilikua, and warns him not to show it until he gets to Hawaii. He displays it at Kauai, and the Kauai people kill him in order to get the god. The Hawaii people hear of it, invite the Kauai people to see them, and slaughter them in revenge. [Footnote: 1 This means literally "to travel over land and sea." (See Malo, p. 316.) The song runs: "Wahilani, king of Oahu. Who sailed away to Kahiki, To the islands of Moananuiakea, To trample the breasts of Kane and Kanaloa."] 2. KAMAPUAA This demigod, half man, half hog, lives in Kaliuwaa valley, Oahu, in the reign of Olopana.[1] His father is Kahikiula, his mother, Hina, his brother, Kahikihonuakele. He robs Olopana's chicken roosts, is captured, swung on a stick, and carried in triumph until his grandmother sings a chant which gives him supernatural strength to slay his enemies. Four times he is captured and four times escapes, killing all of Olopana's men but Makalii. Then he flees up the valley Kaliuwaa and lets his followers climb up over his back to the top of the cliff, except his grandmother, who insists upon climbing up his front. He flees to Wahiawa, loses his strength by eating food spelled with the letters _lau_, but eventually becomes lord of Oahu. In Kahiki, his father-in-law, Kowea, has a rival, Lonokaeho, who in his supernatural form has eight foreheads as sharp as an ax. Kamapuaa chants to his gods, and the weeds Puaakukui, Puaatihaloa, and Puaamaumau grow over the foreheads. Thus snared, Lonokaeho is slain. Kamapuaa also defeats Kuilioloa, who has the form of a dog. The story next describes the struggle between Pele and the pig god. Kamapuaa goes to Kilauea on Hawaii and stands on a point of land overlooking the pit called Akanikolea. Below sit Pele and her sisters stringing wreaths. Kamapuaa derides Pele's red eyes and she in revenge tells him he is a hog, his nose pierced with a cord, his face turned to the ground and a tail that wags behind. When he retaliates she is so angry that she calls out to her brothers to start the fires. Kamapuaa's love-making god, Lonoikiaweawealoha, decoys the brothers to the lowlands. Then Pele bids her sisters and uncles to keep up the fire, but Kamapuaa's sister, Keliiomakahanaloa, protects him with cloud and rain. Kamapuaa takes his hog form, and hogs overrun the place; Pele is almost dead. Then the love-making god restores her, she fills up the pit again with fire; but Kamapuaa calls for the same plants as before, which are his supernatural bodies, to choke out the flames. At length peace is declared and Pele takes Puna, Kau, and Kona districts, while Kamapuaa takes Hilo, Hamakua, and Kohala. (Hence the former districts are overrun with lava flows; the latter escape.) Next Kamapuaa gets Kahikikolo for a war club. Makalii, king of Kauai, is fighting Kaneiki. After Kamapuaa has killed two warriors and driven away two spear throwers, he reveals himself to Makalii, who prostrates himself. Kamapuaa recounts the names of over fifty heroes whom he has slain and boasts of his amours. He spares Makalii on condition that he chant the name song in his honor, and spares his own father, brother, and mother. Later he pays a visit to his parents at Kalalau, but has to chant his name song to gain recognition. This angers him so much that he can be pacified only when Hina, his mother, chants all the songs in honor of his name. By and by he goes away to Kahiki with Kowea.[1] [Footnote 1: This is not the Olopana of Hawaii.] 3. KAINA The first-born of Hakalanileo and Hina is born in the form of a rope at Hamakualoa, Maui, in the house Halauoloolo, and brought up by his grandmother, Uli, at Piihonua, Hilo. He grows so long that the house has to be lengthened from mountain to sea to hold him. When the bold Kapepeekauila, who lives on the strong fortress of Haupu, Molokai, carries away Hina on his floating hill, Hakalanileo seeks first his younger son, Niheu, the trickster, then his terrible son Kana, to beseech their aid in recovering her. From Uli, Kana secures the canoe Kaumaielieli, which is buried at Paliuli, and the expedition sets forth, bearing Kana stretched in the canoe like a long package to conceal his presence, Niheu with his war club Wawaikalani, and the father Hakalanileo, with their equipment of paddlers. The Molokai chief has been warned by his priest Moi's dream of defeat, but, refusing to believe him, sends Kolea and Ulili to act as scouts. As the canoe approaches, he sends the scoutfish Keauleinakahi to stop it, but Niheu kills the warrior with his club. When a rock is rolled down the cliff to swamp it, Kana stops it with his hand and slips a small stone under to hold it up. Niheu meanwhile climbs the cliff, enters the house Halehuki, seizes Hina and makes off with her. But Hina has told her new lover that Niheu's strength lies, in his hair, so Kolea and Ulili fly after and lay hold of the intruder's hair. Niheu releases Hina and returns unsuccessful. Kana next tries his skill. He stretches upward, but the hill rises also until he is spun out into a mere cobweb and is famishing with hunger. Niheu advises him to lean over to Hawaii that his grandmother may feed him. After three days, this advice reaches his ear and he bends over Haleakala mountain on Maui, where the groove remains to this day, and puts his head in at the door of his grandmother's house in Hawaii, where he is fed until he is fat again. Niheu, left behind in the boat, sees his brother's feet growing fat, and finally cuts off one to remind Kana of the business in hand. Now the hill Haupu is really a turtle. Uli tells Kana that if he breaks the turtle's flippers it can no longer grow higher. Thus Kana succeeds in destroying the hill Haupu and winning Hina back to his father.[2] [Footnote 1: This is only a fragment of the very popular story of the pig god. For Pele, see Ellis, IV. For both Pele and Kamapuaa, Emerson, _Unwritten Literature_, pp. 25, 85, 180, 228; and _Pele and Hiiaka_; Thrum, pp. 36, 193; and Daggett, who places the beginning of the Pele worship in the twelfth century.] [Footnote 2: Rev. A.O. Forbes's version of this story is printed in Thrum, p. 63. See also Daggett. They differ only in minor detail. Uli's chant of the canoe is used by sorcerers to exorcise the spirits, and Uli is the special god of the priests who use sorcery.] 4. KAPUNOHU Kukuipahu and Niulii are chiefs of Kohala when Kapunohu, the great warrior, is born in Kukuipahu. Kanikaa is his god, and Kanikawi his spear. Insulted by Kukuipahu, he goes to the uplands to test his strength, and sends his spear through 800 _wili-wili_ trees at once. Two men he meets on the way are offered as much land as they can run over in a certain time; thus the upland districts of Pioholowai and Kukuikiikii are formed. Kapunohu makes a conquest of a number of women, before joining Niulii against Kukuipahu. In the battle that follows at Kapaau 3,200 men are killed and trophies taken, and Kukuipahu falls. Kapunohu, armed with Kanikawi, kills Paopele at Lamakee, whose huge war club 4,000 men carry. After this feat he goes to Oahu, where his sister has married Olopana, who is at war with Kakuhihewa. Kapunohu pulls eight patches of taro at one time for food, then joins his brother-in-law and slays Kakuhihewa. Next he wins against Kemano, chief of Kauai, in a throwing contest, spear against sling stone, and becomes ruler over Kauai. His skill in riddles brings him wealth in a tour about Hawaii, but two young men of Kau finally outdo him in a contest of wit. 5. KEPAKAILIULA When this son of Ku and Hina is born in Keaau, Puna, in the form of an egg, the maternal uncles, Kiinoho and Kiikele, who are chiefs of high rank, steal him away and carry him to live in Paliuli, where in 10 days' time he becomes a beautiful child; in 40 days he has eyes and skin, as red as the feather cape in which h& is wrapped, and eats nothing but bananas, a bunch at a meal. The foster parents travel about Hawaii to find a bride of matchless beauty for their favorite, and finally choose Makolea, the daughter of Keauhou and Kahaluu, who live in Kona. Thither they take the boy, leaving Paliuli forever, and this place has never since been seen by man. The girl is, however, betrothed to Kakaalaneo, king of Maui, and when her parents discover her amour with Kepakailiula they send her off to her husband, who is a famous spearsman. Kepakailiula now moves to Kohala and marries the pretty daughter of its king. Two successive nights he slips over to Maui, fools the drunken king, and enjoys his bride. Then he persuades his father-in-law, Kukuipahu, to send a friendly expedition to Maui, which he turns into a war venture, and slays the chief Kakaalaneo and so many men that his father-in-law is obliged to put a stop to the slaughter by running in front of him with his wife in his arms. He then makes Kukuipahu king over Maui and goes on to Oahu, where Kakuhihewa hastens to make peace. One day when Makolea is out surf riding, messengers of the king of Kauai, Kaikipaananea, steal her away and she becomes this king's wife. Kepakailiula follows her to Kauai and defeats the king in boxing. One more contest is prepared; the king has two riddles, the failure to answer which will mean death. Only one man knows the answers, Kukaea, the public crier, and he is an outcast who has lived on nothing but filth air his life. Kepakailiula invites him in, feeds, and clothes him. For this attention, the man reveals the riddles, Kepakailiula answers them correctly, and bakes the king in his own oven. The riddles are: 1. "Plaited all around, plaited to the bottom, leaving an opening. Answer: A house, thatched all around and leaving a door." 2. "The men that stand, the men that lie down, the men that are folded. Answer: A house, the timbers that stand, the battens laid down, the grass and cords folded." 6. KAIPALAOA. The boy skilled in the art of disputation, or _hoopapa_, lives in Waiakea, Hilo, Hawaii. In the days of Pueonuiokona, king of Kauai, his father, Halepaki, has been killed in a riddling contest with Kalanialiiloa, the taboo chief of Kauai, whose house is almost surrounded by a fence of human bones from the victims he has defeated in this art. Kaipalaoa's mother teaches him all she knows, then his aunt, Kalenaihaleauau, wife of Kukuipahu, trains him until he is an expert. He meets Kalanialiiloa, riddles against all his champions, and defeats them. They are killed, cooked in the oven, and the flesh stripped from their bones. Thus Kaipalaoa avenges his father's death. 7. MOIKEHA. Olopana and his wife Luukia, during the flood at Waipio, are swept out to sea, and sail, or swim, to Tahiti, where Moikeha is king. Olopana becomes chief counsellor, and Luukia becomes Moikeha's mistress. Mua, who also loves Luukia, sows discord by reporting to her that Moikeha is boasting in public of her favors. She repulses Moikeha and he, out of grief, sails away to Hawaii. The lashing used for water bottles and for the binding of canoes is called the _pauoluukia_ ("skirt of Luukia") because she thus bound herself against the chief's approaches. Moikeha touches at various points on the islands. At Hilo, Hawaii, he leaves his younger brothers Kumukahi and Haehae; at Kohala, his priests Mookini and Kaluawilinae; at Maui, a follower, Honuaula; at Oahu his sisters Makapuu and Makaaoa. With the rest--his foster son Kamahualele, his paddlers Kapahi and Moanaikaiaiwe, Kipunuiaiakamau and his fellow, and two spies, Kaukaukamunolea and his fellow--he reaches Wailua, Kauai, at the beach Kamakaiwa. He has dark reddish hair and a commanding figure, and the king of Kauai's two daughters fall in love with and marry him. He becomes king of Kauai and by them has five sons, Umalehu, Kaialea, Kila, Kekaihawewe, Laukapalala. How his bones are buried first in the cliff of Haena and later removed to Tahiti is told in the story of Kila.[1] [Footnote 1: See Daggett's account, who places Moikeha's role in the eleventh century.] 8. KILA Moikeha, wishing to send a messenger to fetch his oldest son from Tahiti, summons his five sons and tests them to know by a sign which boy to send. The lot falls upon Kila, the youngest. On his journey Kila encounters dangers and calls upon his supernatural relatives. The monsters Keaumiki and Keauka draw him down to the coral beds, but Kakakauhanui saves him. His rat aunt, Kanepohihi, befriends him, and when he goes to his uncle Makalii,[1] who has all the food fastened up in his net, she nibbles the net and the food falls out. At Tahiti he first kills Mua, who caused his father's exile. Then his warriors are matched with the Tahiti champions and he himself faces Makalii, whose club is Naulukohelewalewa. Kila, with the club Kahikikolo stuns his uncle "long enough to cook two ovens of food." The spirits of Moikeha's slain followers appear and join their praises to those of the crowd assembled, together with ants, birds, pebbles, shells, grass, smoke, and thunder. Kila goes to his father's house, Moaulanuiakea, thatched with birds' feathers, and built of _kauila_ wood. All is desolate. The man whom he seeks, Laamaikahiki, is hidden in the temple of Kapaahu. On a strict taboo night Kila conceals himself and, when the brother comes to beat the drum, delivers his message. Kila succeeds in bringing his brother to Hawaii, who later returns to Kahiki from Kahoolawe, hence the name "The road to Tahiti" for the ocean west of that island. When Laamaikahiki revisits Hawaii to get the bones of his father, he brings the _hula_ drum and _kaeke_ flute. Meanwhile Kila has become king, after his father's death. The jealous brothers entice him to Waipio, Hawaii, where they abandon him to slavery. The priest of the temple adopts him. He gains influence and introduces the tenant system of working a number of days for the landlord, and is beloved for his industry. At the time of famine in the days of Hua,[2] one of his brothers comes to Waipo to get food. Kila has him thrown into prison, but each time he is taken out to be killed, Kila imitates the call of a mud hen and the sacrifice is postponed. Finally the mother and other brothers are summoned, Kila makes himself known, and the mother demands the brothers' death. Kila offers himself as the first to be killed, and reconciliation follows. Later he goes with Laamaikahiki back to Tahiti to carry their father's bones. [Footnote 1: Kaulu meets the wizard Makalii in rat form and kills him by carrying him up in the air and letting him drop. Makalii means "little eyes" and refers to a certain mesh of fish net. One form of cat's cradle has this name. It also names the six summer months, the Pleiades, and the trees of plenty planted in Paliuli. "Plenty of fish" seems to be the root idea of the symbol.] [Footnote 3: Daggett tells the story of _Hua_, priest of Maui.] 9. UMI The great chief of Hawaii, Liloa, has a son by Piena, named Hakau. On a journey to dedicate the temple of Manini at Kohalalele, Liloa sees Akahiakuleana bathing in the Hoea stream at Kaawikiwiki and falls in love with her. Some authorities claim she was of low birth, others make her a relative of Liloa. He leaves with her the customary tokens by which to recognize his child. When their boy Umi is grown, having quarreled with his supposed father, he takes the tokens and, by his mother's direction, goes to seek Liloa in Waipio valley. Two boys, Omaokamao and Piimaiwaa, whom he meets on the way, accompany him. Umi enters the sacred inclosure of the chief and sits in his father's lap, who, recognizing the trophies, pardons the sacrilege and sending for his gods, performs certain ceremonies. At his death he wills his lands and men to Hakau, but his gods and temples to Umi. Hakau is of a cruel and jealous disposition. Umi is obliged to leave him and go to farming with his two companions and a third, Koi, whom he meets on the way. He marries two girls, but their parents complain that he is lazy and gets no fish. Racing with Paiea at Laupahoehoe, he gets crowded against the rocks. This is a breach of etiquette and he nurses his revenge. Finally, by a rainbow sign and by the fact that a pig offered in sacrifice walks toward Umi, his chiefly blood is proved to the priest Kaoleioku. The priest considers how Umi may win the kingdom away from the unpopular Hakau. Umi studies animal raising and farming. He builds four large houses, holding 160 men each, and these are filled in no time with men training in the arts of war. A couple of disaffected old men, Nunu and Kakohe, are won over to Umi's cause, and they advise Hakau to prepare for war with Umi. While all the king's men are gone to the forests to get feathers for the war god, Umi and his followers start, on the day of Olekulua, and on the day of Lono they surprise and kill Hakau and his few attendants, who thought they were men from the outdistricts come with their taxes. So Umi becomes king. Kaoleioku is chief priest, and Nunu and Kakohe are high in authority. The land he divides among his followers, giving Kau to Omaokamau, Hilo to Kaoleioku, Hamakua to Piimaiwaa, Kahala to Koi, Kona to Ehu, and Puna to another friend. To prove how long Umi will hold his kingdom, he is placed 8 fathoms away from a warrior who hurls his spear at the king's middle, using the thrust known as Wahie. Umi wards it off, catches it by the handle and holds it. This is a sign that he will hold his kingdom successfully--"your son, your grandson, your issue, your offspring until the very last of your blood." Umi now makes a tour of the island for two years. He slays Paiea. He sends Omaokamau to Piilani of Maui to arrange a marriage with Piikea. After 20 days, Piikea sets sail for Hawaii with a fleet of 400 canoes, and a rainbow "like a feather helmet" stands out at sea signaling her approach. The rest of the story has to do with the adventures of Umi's three warriors, Omaokamau who is right-handed, Koi who is left-handed, and Piimaiwae, who is ambidextrous, during the campaign on Maui, undertaken at Piikea's plea to gain for her brother, Kihapiilani, the rule over Maui. The son and successor of Umi is Keawenuiaumi, father of Lonoikamakahiki. 10. KIHAPILANI Lonoapii, king of Maui, has two sisters, Piikea, the wife of Umi, and Kihawahine, named for the lizard god, and a younger brother, Kihapiilani, with whom he quarrels. Kihapiilani nurses his revenge as he plants potatoes in Kula. Later he escapes to Umi in Hawaii, and his sister Piikea persuades her husband to aid his cause with a fleet of war canoes that make a bridge from Kohala to Kauwiki. Hoolae defends the fort at Kauwiki. Umi's greatest warriors, Piimaiwae, Omaokamau, and Koi, attack in vain by day. At night a giant appears and frightens away intruders. One night Piimaiwaa discovers that the giant is only a wooden image called Kawalakii, and knocks it over with his club. Lonoapii is slain and Kihapiilani becomes king. He builds a paved road from Kawaipapa to Kahalaoaka and a shell road on Molokai. 11. PAKAA AND KUAPAKAA[1] Pakaa, the favorite of Keawenuiaumi, king of Hawaii, regulates the distribution of land, has charge of the king's household, keeps his personal effects, and is sailing master for his double canoe. The king gives him land in the six districts of Hawaii. He owns the paddle, Lapakahoe, and the wooden calabash with netted cover in which are the bones of his mother, Laamaomao, whose voice the winds obey. Two men, Hookeleiholo and Hookeleipuna, ruin him with the king. So, taking the king's effects, his paddle and calabash, he sails away to Molokai where he marries a high chiefess and has a son, Kuapakaa, named after the king's cracked skin from drinking _awa_. He plants fields in the uplands marked out like the districts of Hawaii, and trains his son in all the lore of Hawaii. The king dreams that Pakaa reveals to him his residence in Kaula. His love for the man returns and he sets out with a great retinue to seek him. Pakaa foresees the king's arrival and goes to meet him and bring him to land. He conceals his own face under the pretense of fishing, and leaves the son to question the expedition. First pass the six canoes of the district chiefs of Hawaii, and Kuapakaa sings a derisive chant for each, calling him by name. Then he inquires their destination and sings a prophecy of storm. The king's sailing masters, priests, and prophets deny the danger, but the boy again and again repeats the warning. He names the winds of all the islands in turn, then calls the names of the king's paddlers. Finally he uncovers the calabash, and the canoes are swamped and the whole party is obliged to come ashore. Pakaa brings the king the loin cloth and scented tapa he has had in keeping, prepares his food in the old way, and makes him so comfortable that the king regrets his old servant. The party is weather-bound four months. As they proceed, they carry the boy Kuapakaa with them. He blows up a storm in which the two sailing masters are drowned, and carries the rest of the party safe back to Kawaihae, Kohala. Here the boy is forgotten, but by a great racing feat, in which he wins against his contestants by riding in near shore in the eddy caused by their flying canoes, thus coming to the last stretch unwearied, he gets the lives of his father's last enemies. Then he makes known to the king his parentage, and Pakaa is returned to all his former honors. [Footnote 1: This story Fornander calls "the most famous in Hawaiian history."] 12. KALAEPUNI The older brother of Kalaehina and son of Kalanipo and Kamelekapu, is born and raised in Holualoa, Kona, in the reign of Keawenuiaumi. He is mischievous and without fear. At 6 he can outdo all his playmates, at 20 he is fully developed, kills sharks with his hands and pulls up a _kou_ tree as if it were a blade of grass. The king hides himself, and Kalaepuni rules Hawaii. The priest Mokupane plots his death. He has a pit dug on Kahoolawe, presided over by two old people who are told to look out for a very large man with long hair like bunches of _olona_ fiber. Once Kalaepuni goes out shark killing and drifts to this island. The old people give him fish to eat, but send him to the pit to get water; then throw down stones on his head until he dies, at the place called Keanapou. 13. KALAEHINA The younger brother of Kalaepuni can throw a canoe into the sea as if it were a spear, and split wood with his head. He proves his worth by getting six canoes for his brother out of a place where they were stuck, in the uplands of Kapua, South Kona, Hawaii. He makes a conquest of the island of Maui; its king, Kamalalawalu, flees and hides himself when Kalaehina defies his taboo. There he rules until Kapakohana, the strong usurper of Kauai, wrestles with him and pushes him over the cliff Kaihalulu and kills him.[1] 14. LONOIKAMAKAHIKE Lonoikamakahike was king of Hawaii after Keawenuiaumi, his father, 64 generations from Wakea. According to the story, he is born and brought up at Napoopo, Hawaii, by the priests Loli and Hauna. He learns spear throwing from Kanaloakuaana; at the test he dodges 3 times 40 spears at one time. He discards sports, but becomes expert in the use of the spear and the sling, in wrestling, and in the art of riddling disputation, the _hoopapa_. He also promotes the worship of the gods. While yet a boy he marries his cousin Kaikilani, a woman of high rank who has been Kanaloakuaana's wife, and gives her rule over the island until he comes of age. Then they rule together, and so wisely that everything prospers. Kaikilani has a lover, Heakekoa, who follows them as they set out on a tour of the islands. While detained on Molokai by the weather, Lonoikamakahike and his wife are playing checkers when the lover sings a chant from the cliff above Kalaupapa. Lonoikamakahike suspects treachery and strikes his wife to the ground with the board. Fearful of the revenge of her friends he travels on to Kailua on Oahu to Kekuhihewa's court, which he visits incognito. Reproached because he has no name song, he secures from a visiting chiefess of Kauai the chant called "The Mirage of Mana." In the series of bets which follow, Lonoikamakahike wins from Kakuhihewa all Oahu and is about to win his daughter for a wife when Kaikilani arrives, and a reconciliation follows. The betting continues, concluded by a riddling match, in all of which Lonoikamakahike is successful. But his wife brings word that the chiefs of Hawaii, enraged by his insult to her person, have rebelled against him, only the district of Kau remaining faithful. In a series of battles at Puuanahulu, called Kaheawai; at Kaunooa; at Puupea; at Puukohola, called Kawaluna because imdertaken at night and achieved by the strategy of lighting torches to make the appearance of numbers; at Kahua, called Kaiopae; at Halelua, called Kaiopihi from a warrior slain in the battle; finally at Puumaneo, his success is complete, and Hawaii becomes his. Lonoikamakahike sails to Maui with his younger brother and chief counsellor, Pupuakea, to visit King Kamalalawalu, whose younger brother is Makakuikalani: In the contest of wit, Lonoikamakahike is successful. The king of Maui wishes to make war on Hawaii and sends his son to spy out the land, who gains false intelligence. At the same time Lonoikamakahike sends to the king two chiefs who pretend disaffection and egg him on to ruin. In spite of Lanikaula's prophecy of disaster, Kamalalawalu sails to Hawaii with a fleet that reaches from Hamoa, Hana, to Puakea, Kohala; he and his brother are killed at Puuoaoaka, and their bodies offered in sacrifice.[1] Lonoikamakahike, desiring to view "the trunkless tree Kahihikolo," puts his kingdom in charge of his wife and sails for Kauai. Such are the hardships of the journey that his followers desert him, only one stranger, Kapaihiahilani, accompanying him and serving him in his wanderings. This man therefore on his return is made chief counsellor and favorite. But he becomes the queen's lover, and after an absence on Kauai, finds himself disgraced at court. Standing without the king's door, he chants a song recalling their wanderings together; the king relents, the informers are put to death, and he remains the first man in the kingdom until his death. Nor are there any further wars on Hawaii until the days of Keoua. [Footnote 1: One of the most popular heroes of the Puna, Kau, and Kona coast of Hawaii to-day is the _kupua_ or "magician," Kalaekini. His power, _mana_, works through a rod of _kauila_ wood, and his object seems to be to change the established order of things, some say for good, others for the worse. The stories tell of his efforts to overturn the rock called Pohaku o Lekia (rock of Lekia), of the bubbling spring of Punaluu, whose flow he stops, and the blowhole called Kapuhiokalaekini, which he chokes with cross-sticks of _kauila_ wood. The double character of this magician, whom one native paints as a benevolent god, another, not 10 miles distant, as a boaster and mischief-maker, is an instructive example of the effect of local coloring upon the interpretation of folklore. Daggett describes this hero. He seems to be identical with the Kalaehina of Fornander.] 15. KEAWEIKEKAHIALII This chief, born in Kailua, Kona, has a faithful servant, Mao, who studies how his master may usurp the chief ship of Hawaii. One day while Keaweikekahialii plays at checkers with King Keliiokaloa, Mao approaches, and while speaking apparently about the moves of the game, conveys to him the intelligence that now is the time to strike. Mao kills the king by a blow on the neck, and they further slay all the 800 chiefs of Hawaii save Kalapanakuioiomoa, whose daughter Keaweikekahialii marries, thus handing down the high chief blood of Hawaii to this day. [Footnote 1: Mr. Stokes found on the rocks at Kahaluu, near the _heiau_ of Keeku, a petroglyph which the natives point to as the beheaded figure of Kamalalawalu.] 16. KEKUHAUPIO One of the most famous warriors and chiefs in the days of Kalaniopuu and of Kamehameha, kings of Hawaii, was Kekuhaupio, who taught the latter the art of war. He could face a whole army of men and ward off 400 to 4,000 spears at once. In the battle at Waikapu between Kalaniopuu of Hawaii and Kahekili of Maui, the Hawaii men are put to flight. As they flee over Kamoamoa, Kekuhaupio faces the Maui warriors alone. Weapons lie about him in heaps, still he is not wounded. The Maui hero, Oulu, encounters him with his sling; the first stone misses, the god Lono in answer to prayer averts the next. Kekuhaupio then demands with the third a hand-to-hand conflict, in which he kills Oulu. C. LOVE STORIES 1. HALEMANO The son of Wahiawa and Kukaniloko is born in Halemano, Waianae, and brought up in Kaau by his grandmother, Kaukaalii. Dreaming one day of Kamalalawalu, the beauty of Puna, he dies for love of her, but his sister Laenihi, who has supernatural power, restores him to life and wins the beauty for her brother. First she goes to visit her and fetches back her wreath and skirt to Halemano. Then she shows him how to toll the girl on board his red canoe by means of wooden idols, kites, and other toys made to please her favorite brother. The king of Oahu, Aikanaka, desires Halemano's death in order to enjoy the beauty of Puna. They flee and live as castaways, first on Molokai, then Maui, then Hawaii, at Waiakea, Hilo. Here the two are estranged. The chief of Puna seduces her, then, after a reconciliation, the Kohala chief, Kumoho, wins her affection. Halemano dies of grief, and his spirit appears to his sister as she is surfing in the Makaiwi surf at Wailua, Kauai. She restores him to life with a chant. In order to win back his bride, Halemano makes himself an adept in the art of singing and dancing (the _hula_). His fame travels about Kohala and the young chiefess Kikekaala falls in love with him. Meanwhile the seduced wife has overheard his wonderful singing and her love is restored. When his new mistress gives a _kilu_ singing match, she is present, and when Halemano, after singing eight chants commemorating their life of love together, goes off with the new enchantress, she tries in vain to win him back by chanting songs which in turn deride the girl and recall herself to her lover. He soon wearies of the girl and escapes from her to Kauai, where his old love follows him. But they do not agree. Kamalalawalu leaves for Oahu, where she becomes wife to Waiahole at Kualoa. Two Hawaii chiefs, Huaa and Kuhukulua, come with a fleet of 8,000 canoes, make great slaughter at Waiahole, and win the beauty of Puna for their own. 2. UWEUWELEKEHAU Olopana, king of Kauai, has decreed that his daughter, Luukia, shall marry none but Uweuwelekehau, the son of Ku and Hina in Hilo, and that he shall be known when he comes by his chiefly equipment, red canoe, red sails, etc. Thunder, lightning, and floods have heralded this child's birth, and he is kept under the chiefly taboo. One day he goes to the Kalopulepule River to sail a boat; floods wash him out to sea; and in the form of a fish he swims to Kauai, is brought to Luukia and, changing into a man, becomes her lover. When Olopana hears this, he banishes the two to Mana, where only the gods dwell. These supply their needs, however, and the country becomes so fertile that the two steal the hearts of the people with kindness, and all go to live at Mana. Finally Olopana recognizes his son-in-law and they become king and queen of Kauai, plant the coconut grove at Kaunalewa, and build the temple of Lolomauna. 3. LAUKIAMANUIKAHIKI Makiioeoe, king of Kuaihelani, has an amour with Hina on Kauai and, returning home, leaves with Hina his whale-tooth necklace and feather cloak to recognize the child by, and bids that his daughter be sent to him with the full equipment of a chief. Meanwhile he prepares a bathing pool, plants a garden, and taboos both for his daughter's arrival. Laukiamanuikahiki is abused by her supposed father, and, discovering the truth, starts out under her mother's direction to find her real father. With the help of her grandmother she reaches Kuaihelani. Here she bathes in the taboo pool and plucks the taboo flowers. She is about to be slain for this act when her aunt, in the form of an owl, proclaims her name, and the chief recognizes his daughter. Her beauty shines like a light. Kahikiula, her half brother, on a visit to his father, becomes her lover. When he returns to his wife, Kahalaokolepuupuu in Kahikiku, she follows in the shape of an old woman called Lupewale. Although her lover recognizes her, she is treated like a servant. In revenge she calls upon the gods to set fire to the dance house, and burns all inside. Kahikiula now begs her to stay, but she leaves him and returns to Kuaihelani. 4. HOAMAKEIKEKULA "Companion-in-suffering-on-the-plain" is a beautiful woman of Kohala, Hawaii, born at Oioiapaiho, of parents of high rank, Hooleipalaoa and Pili. As she is in the form of an _ala_ stone, she is cast out upon the trash; but her aunt has a dream, rescues her through a rainbow which guides her to the place, and wraps her in red _tapa_ cloth. In 20 days she is a beautiful child. Until she is 20 she lives under a strict taboo; then, as she strings _lehua_ blossoms in the woods, the _elepaio_ bird comes in the form of a handsome man and carries her away in a fog to be the bride of Kalamaula, chief's son of Kawaihae. She asks for 30 days to consider it, and dreams each night of a handsome man, with whom she falls in love. She runs away and, accompanied by a rainbow, wanders in the uplands of Pahulumoa until Puuhue finds her and carries her home to his lord, the king of Kohala, Puuonale, who turns out to be the man of her dream. Her first child is the image Alelekinakina. 5. KAPUAOKAOHELOAI When Ku and Hina are living at Waiakea, Hilo, they have two children, a boy called Hookaakaaikapakaakaua and a lovely girl named Kapuaokaoheloai. They are brought up apart and virgin, without being permitted to see each other, until one day the sister discovers the brother by the bright light that shines from his house, and outwits the attendants. The two are discovered and banished. Attendants of the king of Kuaihelani find the girl and, because she is so beautiful, carry her back with them to be the king's wife. Her virginity is tested and she slips on the platform, is wounded in the virgin's bathing pool, and slips on the bank getting out. Her guilt thus proved, she is about to be slain when a soothsayer reveals her high rank as the child of Hina, older sister to the king, and the king forgives and marries her. His daughter, Kapuaokaohelo, who is ministered to by birds, hearing Kapuaokaoheloai tell of her brother on Hawaii, falls in love with him and determines to go in search of him. When she reaches Punahoa harbor at Kumukahi, Hawaii, where she has been directed, she finds no handsome youth, for the boy has grown ill pining for his sister. In two days, however, he regains his youth and good looks, and the two are married. D. GHOST STORIES AND TALES OF MEN BROUGHT TO LIFE 1. OAHU STORIES KAHALAOPUNA During the days of Kakuhihewa, king of Oahu, there is born in Manoa, Oahu, a beautiful girl named Kahalaomapuana. Kauakuahine is her father, Kahioamano her mother. Her house stands at Kahoiwai. Kauhi, her husband, hears her slandered, and believing her guilty, takes her to Pohakea on the Kaala mountain, and, in spite of her chant of innocence, beats her to death under a great _lehua_ tree, covers the body with leaves, and returns. Her spirit flies to the top of the tree and chants the news of her death. Thus she is found and restored to life, but she will have nothing more to do with Kauhi.[1] [Footnote 1: This story is much amplified by Mrs. Nakuina in Thrum, p. 118. Here mythical details are added to the girl's parentage, and the ghost fabric related in full, in connection with her restoration to life and revenge upon Kauhi. The Fornander version is, on the whole, very bare. See also Daggett.] KALANIMANUIA The son of Ku, king of Lihue, through a secret amour with Kaunoa, is brought up at Kukaniloko, where he incurs the anger of his supposed father by giving food away recklessly. He therefore runs away to his real father, carrying the king's spear and malo; but Ku, not recognizing them, throws him into the sea at Kualoa point. The spirit comes night after night to the temple, where the priests worship it until it becomes strong enough to appear in human form. In this shape Ku recognizes his son and snares the spirit in a net. At first it takes the shape of a rat, then almost assumes human form. Kalanimanuia's sister, Ihiawaawa, has three lovers, Hala, Kumuniaiake, and Aholenuimakiukai. Kalanimanuia sings a derisive chant, and they determine upon a test of beauty. A cord is arranged to fall of itself at the appearance of the most handsome contestant. The night before the match, Kalanimanuia hears a knocking at the door and there enter his soles, knees, thighs, hair, and eyes. Now he is a handsome fellow. Wind, rain, thunder, and lightning attend his advent, and the cord falls of itself. PUMAIA King Kualii of Oahu demands from the hog raiser, Pumaia, of Pukoula, one hog after another in sacrifice. At last Pumaia has but one favorite hog left. This he refuses to give up, since he has vowed it shall die a natural death, and he kills all Kualii's men, sparing only the king and his god. The king prays to his god, and Pumaia is caught, bound, and sacrificed in the temple Kapua. Pumaia's spirit directs his wife to collect the bones out of the bone pit in the temple and flee with her daughter to a cave overlooking Nuuanu pali. Here the spirit brings them food and riches robbed from Kualii's men. In order to stop these deprivations, Kualii is advised by his priest to build three houses at Waikiki, one for the wife, one for the daughter, and one for the bones of Pumaia. (In one version, Pumaia is then brought back to life.) NIHOALAKI Nihoalaki is this man's spirit name. He is born at Keauhou, Kona, Hawaii, and goes to Waianae, Oahu, where he marries and becomes chief, under the name of Kaehaikiaholeha, because of his famous _aku_-catching hook called Pahuhu (see Aiai). He goes on to Waimea, Kauai, and becomes ruler of that island, dies, and his body is brought back to Waianae. The parents place the body in a small house built of poles in the shape of a pyramid and worship it until it is strong enough to become a man again. Then he goes back to Waimea, under the new name of Nihoalaki. Here his supernatural sister, in the shape of a small black bird, Noio, has guarded the fishhook. When Nihoalaki is reproached for his indolence, he takes the hook and his old canoe and, going out, secures an enormous haul of _aku_ fish. As all eat, the "person with dropsy living at Waiahulu," Kamapuaa, who is a friend of Nihoalaki's, comes to have his share and the two go off together, diving under the sea to Waianae. A Kauai chief, who follows them, is turned into the rock Pohakuokauai outside Waianae. Nihoalaki goes into his burial house at Waianae and disappears. Kamapuaa marries the sister. 2. MAUI STORIES ELEIO Eleio runs so swiftly that he can make three circuits of Maui in a day. When King Kakaalaneo of Lahaina is almost ready for a meal, Eleio sets out for Hana to fetch fish for the king, and always returns before the king sits down to eat. Three times a spirit chases him for the fish, so he takes a new route. Passing Kaupo, he sees a beautiful spirit, brings her to life, and finds that she is a woman of rank from another island, named Kanikaniaula. She gives him a feather cape, until then unknown on Maui. The king, angry at his runner's delay, has prepared an oven to cook him in at his return, but at sight of the feather cape he is mollified, and marries the restored chiefess. Their child is Kaululaau. (See under Trickster stories.) PAMANO In Kahikinui, Maui, in the village of Kaipolohua, in the days of King Kaiuli, is born Pamano, child of Lono and Kenia. His uncle is Waipu, his sisters are spirits named Nakinowailua and Hokiolele. Pamano studies the art of the _hula_, and becomes a famous dancer, then comes to the uplands of Mokulau in Kaupo, where the king adopts him, but places a taboo between him and his daughter, Keaka. Keaka, however, entices Pamano into her house. Now Pamano and his friend, Hoolau, have agreed not to make love to Keaka without the other's consent. Koolau, not knowing it is the girl's doing, reports his friend to the king, and he and his wife decide that Pamano must die. They entice him in from surf riding, get him drunk with _awa_ in spite of his spirit sisters' warnings, and chop him to pieces. The sisters restore him to life. At a _kilu_ game given by Keaka and Koolau. Pamano reveals himself in a chant and orders his three enemies slain before he will return to Keaka. 3. HAWAII STORIES KAULANAPOKII Kaumalumalu and Lanihau of Holualoa, Kona, Hawaii, have five sons and five daughters. The boys are Mumu, Wawa, Ahewahewa, Lulukaina and Kalino; their sisters are Mailelaulii, Mailekaluhea, Mailepakaha, Mailehaiwale, and Kaulanapokii, who is endowed with gifts of magic. The girls go sight-seeing along the coast of Kohala, and Mailelaulii weds the king of Kohala, Hikapoloa. He gets them to send for the supernatural pearl fishhook with which their brothers catch _aku_ fish, but the hook sent proves a sham, and the angry chief determines to induce the brothers thither on a visit and then kill them in revenge. When the five arrive with a boatload of _aku_, the sisters are shut up in the woman's house composing a name song for the first-born. Each brother in turn comes up to the king's house and thrusts his head in at the door, only to have it chopped off and the body burnt in a special kind of wood fire, _opiko_, _aaka_, _mamane_, _pua_ and _alani_. The youngest sister, however, is aware of the event, and the sisters determine to slay Hikapoloa. When he comes in to see his child, Kaulanapokii sings an incantation to the rains and seas, the _ie_ and _maile_ vines, to block the house. Thus the chief is killed. Then Kaulanapokii sings an incantation to the various fires burning her brothers' flesh, to tell her where their bones are concealed. With the bones she brings her brothers to life, and they all return to Kona, abandoning "the proud land of Kohala and its favorite wind, the Aeloa." PUPUHULUENA The spirits have potatoes, yam, and taro at Kalae Point, Kau, but the Kohala people have none. Pupuhuluena goes fishing from Kohala off Makaukiu, and the fishes collect under his canoe. As he sails he leaves certain kinds of fish as he goes until he comes just below Kalae. Here Ieiea and Poopulu, the fishermen of Makalii, have a dragnet. By oiling the water with chewed _kukui_ nut, he calms it enough to see the fishes entering their net, and this art pleases the fishermen. By giving them the nut he wins their friendship, hence when he goes ashore, one prompts him with the names of the food plants which are new to him. Then he stands the spirits on their heads, so shaming them that they give him the plants to take to Kohala. HIKU AND KAWELU[1] The son of Keaauolu and Lanihau, who live in Kaumalumalu, Kona, once sends his arrow, called Puane, into the hut of Kawelu, a chiefess of Kona. She falls violently in love with the stranger who follows to seek it, and will not let him depart. He escapes, and she dies of grief for him, her spirit descending to Milu. Hiku, hearing of her death, determines to fetch her thence. He goes out into mid-ocean, lets down a _koali_ vine, smears himself with rancid _kukui_ oil to cover the smell of a live person, and lowers himself on another vine. Arrived in the lower world, he tempts the spirits to swing on his vines. At last he catches Kawelu, signals to his friends above, and brings her back with him to the upper world. Arrived at the house where the body lies, he crowds the spirit in from the feet up. After some days the spirit gets clear in. Kawelu crows like a rooster and is taken up, warmed, and restored. [Footnote 1: See Thrum, p. 43.] E. TRICKSTER STORIES 1. THEFTS IWA At Keaau, Puna, lives Keaau, who catches squid by means of two famous _leho_ shells, Kalokuna, which the squid follow into the canoe. Umi, the king, hears about them and demands them. Keaau, mourning their loss, seeks some one clever enough to steal them back from Umi. He is directed to a grove of _kukui_ trees between Mokapu Point and Bird Island, on Oahu, where lives Kukui and his thieving son Iwa. This child, "while yet in his mother's womb used to go out stealing." He was the greatest thief of his day. Keaau engages his services and they start out. With one dip of Iwa's paddle, Kapahi, they are at the next island. So they go until they find Umi fishing off Kailua, Hawaii. Iwa swims 3 miles under water, steals the shells, and fastens the hooks to the coral at the bottom of the sea 400 fathoms below. Later, Iwa steals back the shells from Keaau for Umi. Iwa's next feat is the stealing of Umi's ax, Waipu, which is kept under strict taboo in the temple of Pakaalana, in Waipio, on Hawaii. It hangs on a rope whose ends are fastened to the necks of two old women. A crier runs back and forth without the temple to proclaim the taboo. Iwa takes the place of the crier, persuades the old women to let him touch the ax, and escapes with it. Umi arranges a contest to prove who is the champion thief. Iwa is pitted against the six champions from each of the six districts of Hawaii. The test is to see which can fill a house fullest in a single night. The six thieves go to work, but Iwa sleeps until cockcrow, when he rises and steals all the things out of the other thieves' house. He also steals sleeping men, women, and children from the king's own house to fill his own. The championship is his, and the other six thieves are killed. MANINIHOLOKUAUA This skillful thief lives at Kaunakahakai on Molokai, where he is noted for strength and fleetness. In a cave at Kalamaula, in the uplands, his lizard guardian keeps all the valuables that he steals from strangers who land on his shore. This cave opens and shuts at his call. Maniniholokuaua steals the canoe of the famous Oahu runner, Keliimalolo, who can make three circuits of Oahu in a day, and this man secures the help of two supernatural runners from Niihau, Kamaakauluohia (or Kaneulohia), and Kamaakamikioi (or Kaneikamikioi), sons of Halulu, who can make ten circuits of Kauai in a day. In spite of his grandmother's warning, Maniniholokuaua steals from them also, and they pursue him to his cave, where he is, caught between the jaws in his haste. PUPUALENALENA This marvelous dog named Pupualenalena fetches _awa_ from Hakau's food patches in Waipio, Hawaii, to his master in Puako. Hakau has the dog tracked, and is about to kill both dog and master when he bethinks himself. He has been troubled by the blowing of a conch shell, Kuana, by the spirits above Waipio, and he now promises life if the dog will bring him the shell. This the dog effects in the night, though breaking a piece in his flight, and the king, delighted, rewards the master with land in Waipio. 2. CONTESTS WITH SPIRITS The son of Kakaalaneo, king of Maui and Kanikaniaula, uproots all the breadfruit trees of Lahaina to get the fruit that is out of reach, and does so much mischief with the other children born on the same day with him, who are brought to court for his companions, that they are sent home, and he is abandoned on the island of Lanai to be eaten by the spirits. His god shows him a secret cave to hide in. Each night the spirits run about trying to find him, but every time he tricks them until they get so overworked that all die except Pahulu and a few others. Finally his parents, seeing his light still burning, send a double canoe to fetch him home with honor. This is how Lanai was cleared of spirits.[1] [Footnote 1: Daggett tells this story.] LEPE A trickster named Lepe lives at Hilo, Hawaii, calls up the spirits by means of an incantation, and then fools them in every possible way. HANAAUMOE Halalii is the king of the spirits on Oahu. The ghost of Hawaii is Kanikaa; that of Maui, Kaahualii; of Lanai, Pahulu; of Molokai, Kahiole. The great flatterer of the ghosts, Hanaaumoe, persuades the Kauai chief, Kahaookamoku, and his men to land with the promise of lodging, food, and wives. When they are well asleep, the ghost come and eat them up--"they made but one smack and the men disappeared." But one man, Kaneopa, has suspected mischief and hidden under the doorsill where the king of the spirits sat, so no one found him. He returns and tells the Kauai king, who makes wooden images, brings them with him to Oahu, puts them in place of his men in the house; while they hide without, and while the ghosts are trying to eat these fresh victims, burns down the house and consumes all but the flatterer, who manages to escape. PUNIA. The artful son of Hina in Kohala goes to the cave of lobsters and by lying speech tricks the shark who guard it under their king, Kaialeale. He pretends to dive, throws in a stone, and dives in another place. Then he accuses one shark after another as his accomplice, and its companions kill it, until only the king is left. The king is tricked into swallowing him whole instead of cutting him into bits. There he remains until he is bald--"serves him right, the rascal!"--but finally he persuades the shark to bring him to land, and the shark is caught and Punia escapes. Next he kills a parcel of ghosts by pretending that this is an old fishing ground of his and enticing them out to sea two by two, when he puts them to death, all but one. WAKAINA A cunning ghost of Waiapuka, North Kohala, disguises himself as a dancer and approaches a party of people. He shows off his skill, then calls for feather cloak, helmet, bamboo flute, skirt, and various other valuable things with which to display his art. When he has them secure, he flies off with them, and the audience never see him or their property again.[1] [Footnote 1: Gill tells this same story from the Hervey group. Myths and Songs, p. 88.] 3. STORIES OF MODERN CUNNING KULEPE A cunning man and great thinker lives on Oahu in the days of Peleioholani. He travels to Kalaupapa, Molokai, is hungry, and, seeing some people bent over their food, chants a song that deceives them into believing him a soldier and man of the court. They become friendly at once and invite him to eat. KAWAUNUIAOLA A woman of Kula, Maui, whose husband deserts her for another woman, makes herself taboo, returns to her house, and offers prayers and invents conversations as if she had a new husband. The news quickly spreads, and Hoeu starts at once for home. In this cunning manner she regains her husband. MAIAUHAALENALENAUPENA The upland peddlers bring sugar cane, bananas, gourds, etc., to sea to peddle for fish. Maiauhaalenalenaupena pretends to be a fisherman. He spreads out his net as if just driven in from sea by the rough weather. The peddlers trust him with their goods until he has better luck; but he really is no fisherman and never gives them anything. WAAWAAIKINAAUPO AND WAAWAAIKINAANAO One day these two brothers go out snaring birds. The older brother suggests that they divide the spoils thus: He will take all those with holes on each side of the beak. The unobservant younger brother consents, thinking this number will be few, and the older wins the whole catch. KUAUAMOA At Kawaihae, Kohala, lives the great trickster, Kuauamoa. He knows Davis and Young after they are made prisoners by the natives, and thus learns some English words. On the plains of Alawawai he meets some men going to sell rope to the whites and they ask him to instruct them what to say. He teaches them to swear at the whites. When the white men are about to beat the peddlers, they drop the rope and run away. INDEX TO REFERENCES ALEXANDER, W.D. _Short synopsis of the most essential points of Hawaiian Grammar_. By William DeWitt Alexander, LL.D. (Yale), Honolulu, 1908. _Brief History of the Hawaiian People_ (school edition), Honolulu, 1908. _Hawaiian Geographic Names_. Compiled by W.D. Alexander. Report of Coast and Geodetic Survey for 1902. Appendix No. 7, Washington, 1903. ANDREWS, L. _Dictionary of the Hawaiian Language_. By Lorrin Andrews, Honolulu, 1865. _Haui ka Lani_, a prophetic song foretelling the deeds of Kamehameha I, chanted by Keaulumoku eight years before the defeat of Keoua. Translated by Judge Lorrin Andrews and revised by Sanford B. Dole, Islander, Honolulu, 1875. BAESSLER, A. _Südsee-Bilder_. By Arthur Baessler, Berlin, 1895. _Neue Südsee-Bilder_, Berlin, 1900. BASTIAN, A. _Die heilige Sage der Polynesier_: Kosmogonie und Theogonie. By Adolf Bastian. Leipzig, 1881. _Zur Kenntniss Hawaii's_. Berlin, 1883. _Einiges über Samoa und andere Inseln des Südsee_. 1889. _Inselgrüppen in Oceanien_. 1889. _Die Samoanische Schöpfungssage_. Berlin, 1894. BRIGHAM, W.T. _Contributions of a Venerable Savage to the Ancient History of the Hawaiian Islands_, translated from the French of Jules Remy by William Tufts Brigham, LL.D. (Columbia). Boston, 1868. In publications of the Bishop Museum, Honolulu, Hawaii: _Hawaiian Feather Work_, 1899. _Additional Notes_, 1903. _Index to the Islands of the Pacific_, 1900. _Stone Implements and Stone Work of the Ancient Hawaiians_, 1902. _Mat and Basket Weaving of the Ancient Hawaiians_, 1906. _Old Hawaiian Carving_, 1906. _Ancient Hawaiian House_, 1908. _Ka Hana Kapa_: Making of Bark Cloth in Hawaii, 1911. BÜLOW, W. VON. _Samoanische Sagen_. By Wilhelm von Bülow. Globus, 1895, 1896, 1897. Internationales Archiv für Ethnographie, 1898, 1899, 1908. CODRINGTON, R. H. _The Melanesians_: Studies in their anthropology and folklore. By Robert Henry Codrington. Oxford, 1891. COLENSO, W. _Historical Incidents and Traditions of the Olden Times_. Translated from the Maori. By W. Colenso, F.L.S. Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, Vol. XIII (1880), XIV (1881). COOK, J. _A New Voyage Round the World_ in the years 1768, 1769, 1770, 1771, performed by Capt. James Cook in the ship _Endeavor_, drawn from his own journals and from the papers of Joseph Banks, by John Hawkesworth. 2 volumes. New York, 1774. _A Voyage Towards the South Pole and Round the World_, Performed in His Majesty's ships the _Resolution_ and _Adventure_ in the years 1772, 1773, 1774, and 1775 by Capt. James Cook. In which is included Capt. Furneaux's narrative of his proceedings in the _Adventure_ during the separation of the ships. 2 volumes. Plates. London, 1777. _Voyage to the Pacific Ocean_ ... in His Majesty's ships the _Resolution_ and _Discovery_, in the years 1776, 1777, 1778, 1779, and 1780. 3 volumes. Vols. I and II by Capt. James Cook, F.R.S. Vol. III by Capt. James King, LL.D., F.R.S. London, 1784. DAGGETT. _Legends and Myths of Hawaii_. Fables and Folktales of a Strange People. Collected by Kalakaua, edited by Daggett. New York, 1888. DIBBLE, S. _A History of the Sandwich Islands_. By Sheldon Dibble. Lahainaluna, 1843; Honolulu, 1909. DIXON, R.B. _Oceanic mythology_. By Roland B. Dixon. In Mythology of All Races. Vol. IX. Boston, 1916. ELLIS, W. _Journal of a Tour Round Hawaii_. By the Rev. William Ellis. Boston, 1825; London, 1827. _Polynesian Researches_ during a residence of nearly eight years in the Society and Sandwich Islands. 4 volumes (2nd edition). London, 1842. EMERSON, N.B. Unwritten Literature of Hawaii: _The Sacred Songs of the Hula_. By Nathaniel Bright Emerson, A.M., M.D. Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 38. Washington, 1909. _Pele and Hiiaka_, a myth from Hawaii. Honolulu, 1915. _Hawaiian Antiquities of David Malo_. Translated and edited. Honolulu, 1898. ERDLAND, P.A. _Die Marshall-insulaner_. Leben und Sitte, Sinn und Religion eines Südsee-Volkes. By P. August Erdland, M.S.C. Anthropos, Ethnologische Bibliothek II, 1914. FISON, L. _Tales from Old Fiji_. By Lorimer Fison. London, 1904. FORNANDER, A. _The Polynesian Race_, an account of its origin and migrations and the Ancient History of the Hawaiian People to the time of Kaméhaméha I. By Abraham Fornander. 3 volumes. London, 1878. Fornander Collection of Hawaiian Antiquities and Folk-lore. Memoirs of the Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum. Edited by Thomas G. Thrum. Honolulu, 1916-. FRASER, J. _Folksongs and Myths from Samoa_. By John Fraser (with Powell and Pratt), Royal Society of New South Wales, 1890, 1891, 1892, 1895. Journal of the Polynesian Society, 1895, 1896, 1898. GILL, W.W. _Myths and Songs from the South Pacific_. By the Rev. William Wyatt Gill. London, 1876. _South Pacific and New Guinea_, past and present, with notes on the Hervey Group, an illustrative song and various myths. Sydney, 1892. GIRSCHNER, M. _Die Karolineninsel Namöluk_ und ihre Bewohner. By Max Girschner. Baessler Archiv. Vol. II, 123. Berlin, 1912. GRACIA, M. _Lettres sur les Iles Marquises_. By Père Mathias Gracia (priest of the Sacred Heart). Paris, 1845. GREY, G. _Polynesian Mythology and Ancient Traditional Mythology of the New Zealand Race_. By Sir George Grey (Governor in chief of New Zealand). London, 1855. JARVES, J.J. _History of the Hawaiian Islands_. By James Jackson Jarves (4th edition). Honolulu, 1872. KOTZEBUE, O. VON. _Entdeckungs-Reise in die Süd-See und nach der Berings Strasse zur erforschung einer nordöstlichen durchfahrt, unternommen in den jahren 1815, 1816, 1817, und 1818_. By Otto von Kotzebue. Weimar, 1821. KRÄMER, A. _Die Samoa Inseln_; Verfassung stammbäume und überlieferungen. Entwurf einer Monographie. By Dr. Augustin Krämer. Vol. LESSON, P.A. _Les Polynesiens_; leur Origine, leurs Migrations, leur Langage. By Pierre Adolph Lesson. Edited by Ludovic Martinet. 4 volumes. Paris, 1880. LILIUOKALANI. _An account of the Creation of the World according to Hawaiian Tradition_. Composed by Keaulumoku in 1700 and translated from manuscripts preserved exclusively in her majesty's family. By Liliuokalani of Hawaii. Boston, 1897. LYONS, C.J. _Song of Kualii Tawaii_ chanted by Kupaahulani and Kamakaaulani. Translated by Curtis J. Lyons. Journal of Polynesian Society II, 160, and Islander, Honolulu, 1875. _Land Matters in Hawaii_, Islander. Honolulu, 1875. MALO, D. _Moolelo Hawaii_ (Hawaiian Antiquities of David Malo and others) gathered at Lahainaluna, 1835-36. Revised and published by Dibble, 1838. Translated into English by Rev. R. Tinker in Hawaiian Spectator II, 1839. Compiled in Hawaiian by Rev. J.F. Pogue (Pokele), 1858. Translated into French by M. Jules Remy. Paris, 1862. _Hawaiian Antiquities_ of David Malo, translated and edited with further material by N.B. Emerson, with introduction and notes by W.D. Alexander. Honolulu, 1898. MARINER, W. _Account of the Natives of the Tonya Islands_. By William Mariner. Edited by John Martin. 2 volumes. Edinburgh, 1827. MOERENHOUT, J.A. _Voyages aux iles du Grand Ocean_. By J.A. Moerenhout. 2 volumes. Paris, 1837. POWELL, T. _A Samoan Tradition of Creation and the Deluge_. By Rev. T. Powell, F.L.S., Victoria Institute of Great Britain. Vol. XX. RIVERS, W.H. _The History of Melanesian Society_. By William Halse Rivers. 2 volumes. Illustrated. Cambridge, 1914. SMITH, S.P. _Hawaiki_, the original home of the Maori; with a sketch of Polynesian History. By S. Percy Smith, F.R.G.S. (3rd edition.) London, 1904. STATE, J.B. _Old Samoa_, or Floatsam and Jetsam from the Pacific Ocean. By Rev. John B. Stair. Religious Tract Society. London, 1897. STOKES, J.F.G. _Hawaiian Petroglyphs_. By John F.G. Stokes. Occasional papers iv 4, Bishop Museum, Honolulu. _Index to Forander's Polynesian Race_. Honolulu, 1909. STÜBEL, A. _Samoanische Texte_. By Alfons Stübel, Königlichen Museum für Völkerkunde. Vol. IV, 1896. THOMSON, B. _The Fijians_: A study of the decay of custom. By Basil Thomson. London, 1908. THRUM, T.G. _Hawaiian Folktales_. A collection of Native Legends. By Thomas G. Thrum. Chicago, 1907. _The Hawaiian Annual_; the reference book of information and statistics relating to the Hawaiian Islands. Edited by Thomas G. Thrum. Honolulu, 1874-. _Ancient Hawaiian Mythology_. To appear. TREGEAR, E. _The Maori-Polynesiam Comparative Dictionary_. By Edward Tregear, F.R.G.S. Wellington, 1891. _Polynesian Folk-lore_. Hina's Voyage and Origin of Fire. Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, XIX (1886); XX (1887), TURNER, G. _Nineteen Years in Polynesia_. By Rev. George Turner, LL.D. London, 1861. _Samoa a Hundred Years Ago_. London, 1884. WESTERVELT, W.D. _Legends of Maui_, a demigod of Polynesia, and his mother Hina. By Rev. William D. Westervelt. Honolulu, 1910; Melbourne, 1913. _Legends of Old Honolulu_. Boston and London, 1915. _Legends of Gods and Ghosts_. Boston and London, 1915. _Hawaiian Legends of Volcanoes_. Boston, 1916. WHITE, J. _Ancient History of the Maori_, his mythology and traditions. By John White. 6 volumes. New Zealand, 1887. WILLIAMS, T. _Fiji and the Fijians_. By Thomas Williams and James Calvert, edited by George Rowe. 2 volumes. London, 1858. WOHLERS, J.F.H. _Mythology and Traditions of the Maori in New Zealand_. By the Rev. J.F.H. Wohlers. Transactions of the New Zealand Institute, Vol. VII. 1874. THE ORIGINAL HAWAIIAN TEXT OLELO HOAKAKA Ua hoopuka ka mea nana i pai keia buke me ka olioli nui, ka makamua o ka hoao ana e hoolako i buke hoonanea na na kanaka Hawaii. Ua loaa mua mai ia kakou na buke kula o na ano he nui wale, a he nui no hoi na buke i hoolakoia mai na kakou, e hoike mai ana ia kakou i ka pono a me ka hewa; aka, o ka buke mua nae keia i paiia na ka poe Hawaii nei, ma ke ano hoikeike ma ke Kaao i na mea kahiko a keia lahui kanaka, me ka aua mai hoi mai ka nalowale loa ana'ku o kekahi o na moolelo punihei a lakou. E hoike ana iloko o na huaolelo maikai wale i na olelo a me na hana a kekahi o ko Hawaii kaikamahine wahine maikai a punahele no hoi, a na ia mea no hoi e kokua mai i ka noho mau ana o ke aloha o na poe o Hawaii nei, no ko lakou mau kupuna a me ko lakou aina. E lawe hoi ano, i keia wahi buke uuku, a e hoike ia ia ma ke ano o kona loaa ana mai, e heluhelu, a e malama hoi ia ia, e hoike ana i kou iini i ka naauao Hawaii, me kou makaukau mau no hoi e kokua aku ia mea, i ku mau ai. He mea nui no ka hapai ana i ka mea nana e hoomaamaa mai ia kakou ma ka heluhelu ana, me ka hoonanea pu mai no hoi i na minute noho hana ole o ko kakou noho ana; nolaila, i ka hoomaka ana a ka mea nana i pai i keia buke, e hoomakaukau ia ia no ka hele ana'ku imua o keia lahui, ua hilinai oia i ke kokua nui mai o na makamaka a pau o ka naauao iwaena o keia mau pae moku; a na ia manao wale iho no i hooikaika mai ia ia ma ke kupaa ana mamuli o kana mea i manaolana'i e hana aku, iloko o na pilikia he nui wale e alai mai ana. Akahi no a haawiia i ka lahui Hawaii, ka buke e pili ana i ka hoonanea'ku i ka noho ana, e like me ka na haole, he mea ia nana e hanai mai i ko kakou mau manao i ka ike a me ka naauao. Ua hiki ia kakou a pau ke hui mai ma ka malama ana a me ka hooholomua aku hoi i keia wahi buke, he kumu ia e hapai hou ia mai ai i mau buke hou na keia lahui, ma kana olelo iho--ka olelo Hawaii. A nolaila la, e na makamaka a pau o ka naauao a me na keiki kupa no hoi o Hawaii nei, mai ka la hiki a ka la kau, eia mai Kawahineokaliula, ke hele aku la imua o oukou me ke aloha, a e pono hoi ke hookipa ia ia me ka aloha makamae o ka puuwai Hawaii. ALOHA NO! MOKUNA I I ke kamailio ana i keia kaao, ua oleloia ma Laie, Koolau, kona wahi i hanau ai, a he mau mahoe laua, o Kahauokapaka ka makuakane, o Malaekahana ka makuahine. O Kahauokapaka nae, oia ke Alii nona na okana elua, o Koolauloa a me Koolaupoko, a ia ia ka mana nui maluna o kela mau okana. I ka manawa i lawe ai o Kahauokapaka ia Malaekahana'i wahine mare nana (hoao) mahope iho o ko laua hoao ana, hai mua o Kahauokapaka i kana olelo paa imua o kana wahine, o laua wale no ma ke kaawale, oiai iloko o ko laua mau minute oluolu, a eia ua olelo paa la: "E kuu wahine, he nani ia ua mare ae nei kaua, a nolaila, ke hai nei au i kuu olelo paa ia oe; i noho aku auanei kaua, a i loaa ka kaua keiki, a he keikikane, alaila pomaikai kaua, ola na iwi iloko o ko kaua mau la elemakule, a haule aku i ka make, nalo no hoi na wahi huna: na ia keiki e nai na moku e pau ai, ke loaa hoi ia kaua ke keiki mua a he keikikane; aka hoi, ina he kaikamahine ke hanau mua mai, alaila e make, a ina he mau kaikamahine wale no ka kaua ke hanau mai e make no, aia no ke ola a hanau mai a he keikikane, ola na hanau mui i na he mau kaikamahine." I ka ewalu paha o na makahiki o ko laua noho ana he kane a he wahine, hapai ae la o Malaekahana, a hanau mai la he kaikamahine, ua maikai na helehelena i ka nana aku, a no ka maikai o na helehelena o ua kaikamahine nei, manao iho la ka makuahine o ke kumu la hoi ia e lilo ai ka olelo paa a Kahauokapaka i mea ole, ola la hoi ua kaikamahine nei, aole ka! Ia manawa i hanau ai, aia nae o Kahauokapaka i ka lawai-a me na kanaka. A hoi mai o Kahauokapaka mai ka lawai-a mai, haiia aku la ua hanau o Malaekahana he kaikamahine. A hiki ke alii i ka hale, ua wahiia ke kaikamahine i ke kapa keiki, kena koke ae la o Kahauokapaka i ka Ilamuku e pepehi. Ma ia hope iho hapai hou o Malaekahana, a hanau hou mai la he kaikamahine, o keia nae ke kaikamahine oi aku o ka maikai mamua o kela kaikamahine mua, manao iho la e ola la hoi, aole ka! Ike ae la o Kahauokapaka i ke kaikamahine e hiiia mai ana, ua hoaahuia i ke kapa keiki, ia manawa, kena koke ae la ke alii i ka Ilamuku e pepehi. Mahope mai, ua hapai wale no o Malaekahana, he mau kaikamahine wale no, aole nae i ola iki kekahi oia mau hanau ana o Malaekahana, ua pau wale no i ka pepehiia e like me ka olelo paa a ke alii. A i ka hapai hou ana o Malaekahana i ke keiki, o ka lima ia, a kokoke i na la hanau, hele aku la kela a imua o ke Kahuna, a olelo aku la, "E! auhea oe? E nana mai oe i keia opu o'u e hapai nei, no ka mea, ua pauaho ae nei hoi i ka pau o na keiki i ka make i ka pakela pepehi a ke kane, aha ae nei a maua keiki, aha no i ka make; nolaila, e nana mai oe i keia opu o'u e hapai nei, ina i ike oe he kaikamahine, e omilomilo ae au, oiai aole i hookanaka ae ke keiki. Aka hoi, ina i ike mai hoi oe i keia opu o'u e hapai nei a he keikikane, aole ana." Alaila, olelo mai ke Kahuna ia Malaekahana, "O hoi, a kokoke i ko la hanau, alaila, hele mai oe i o'u nei, i nana aku au i keia hapai ana." A kokoke i na la hanau, i ka malama o Ikuwa, i na la kapu heiau, hoomanao ae la o Malaekahana i ke kauoha a ke Kahuna. Ia ianei e nahunahu ana, hele aku la keia imua o ke Kahuna, me ka olelo aku, "I hele mai nei au ma ke kauoha a ke Kahuna, no ka mea, ke hoomaka mai nei ka nahunahu hanau keiki ana; nolaila, ano oe e nana mai oe i kuu keiki e hapai nei." Ia Malaekahana me ke Kahuna e kamailio ana no keia mau mea, alaila, hai aku la ke Kahuna i kana olelo ia Malaekahana, "E hailona aku au ia oe, ma ka mea a'u e noi aku ai, e haawi mai oe." Ia manawa, nonoi aku la ke Kahuna ia Malaekahana e haawi mai i kekahi lima imua o ke alo o ke Kahuna, e like no me ka hailona mau o keia lahui, ma ka lima no nae ana e makemake ai e haawi aku imua o ke Kahuna. Ia manawa a ke Kahuna i noi aku ai i kekahi lima, haawi mai la o Malaekahana i ka lima hema, me ka hoohuliia o ke alo o ka lima iluna. Alaila, hai aku la ke Kahuna i ka hailona i ku i kana ike, "E hanau hou ana no oe he kaikamahine, no ka mea, ua haawi mai nei oe i kou lima hema ia'u, me ka huli nae o ke alo o ka lima iluna." A no keia olelo a ke Kahuna, kaumaha loa iho la ka naau o Malaekahana, no ka mea, ua kumakena mau kela i ka pepehi mau a kana kane i na keiki mua; nolaila, noi aku la o Malekahana i ke Kahuna e noonoo mai i mea e pono ai ka wahine, a e ola ai hoi ke keiki. Alaila, hai aku la ke Kahuna i kana mau olelo ia Malaekahana, "E hoi oe a ka hale, ina e hiki i ka wa e aneane hanau ai, alaila ea, e ono ae oe i ka ohua, me ka olelo aku ia Kahauokapaka, nana ponoi no e lawai-a, o ka i-a ponoi no e loaa ana ma kona lima oia kau i-a e ono ai; no ka mea, he kanaka puni kaalauohua hoi ko kane, i lilo ai kela i ka lawai-a, ike ole ia i kou hanau ana, a ina e hanau ae, alaila, na'u e malama ke keiki, i hoi mai ia ua lilo ia'u ke keiki, a ina e niuau mai, hai aku oe he heiki alualu, alaila pau wale." A pau ka laua kamailio ana no keia mau mea, hoi aku la o Malaekahana a hiki i ka hale, in manawa, nui loa mai la ka nahunahu ana a aneane e hanau, alaila, hoomanao ae la o Malaekahana i na olelo a ke Kahuna i a-oa-o mai ai ia ia. A i ka mao ana'e o ka eha no ka aneane hanau, olelo aku la o Malaekahana i kana kane, "E Kahauokapaka e! ke kau mai nei i ko'u mau maka ka ohuapalemo; nolaila, e holo aku oe i ke kaalauohua, me he mea'la a loaa mai ka ohuapalemo, alaila hemo kuu keiki, akahi wale no o'u hanau ino ana, a me ka ono o'u i ka ohua; nolaila, e hele koke aku oe me na kanaka i ka lawai-a." Ia manawa, puka koke aku o Kahauokapaka a hele aku la. Ia lakou e hele ana, hanau ae la ua keiki nei he kaikamahine, a lilo ae la ia Waka ka hanai, a kapa iho la i ka inoa o Laieikawai. Ia lakou no hoi e lawelawe ana i ke keiki mua, hanau hou mai la he kaikamahine no, a lilo ae la ia Kapukaihaoa, a kapa iho la i ka inoa o ka muli o Laielohelohe. A lilo na kaikamahine ma ka lima o Waka a me Kapukaihaoa me ke kaawale, hoi mai la o Kahauokapaka mai ka lawai-a mai, ninau iho la i ka wahine, "Pehea oe?" I mai la ka wahine, "Ua hanau ae nei au he keiki alualu, ua kiola ia aku nei i ka moana." Ua akaka mua no nae ia Kahauokapaka ka hanau ia lakou i ka moana; no ka mea, elua hekili o ke kui ana, manao ae la no hoi o Kahauokapaka ua hanau ka wahine; mai ka hanau ana o Laieikawai me Laielohelohe, oia ka hoomaka ana o ka hekili e kani iloko o Ikuwa, pela i olelo ia iloko o keia moolelo. Ia Waka me Kapukaihaoa ma ke kaa wale me na hanai a laua, olelo aku la o Waka ia Kapukaihaoa, "Pehea la auanei e nalo ai na hanai a kaua ia Kahauokapaka?" I mai la ke Kahuna, "E pono oe ke huna loa i kau hanai iloko o ke kiowai i Waiapuka, aia malaila kekahi ana i ike oleia e na mea a pau, a na'u no hoi e imi ko'u wahi e malama ai i ka'u hanai." Lawe aku la o Waka ia Laieikawai ma kahi a Kapukaihaoa i kuhikuhi ai, a malaila oia i malama malui'ai o Laieikawai a hiki i kona manawa i hoomahuahua iki ae ai. Mahope iho o keia mau la, lawe ae la o Kapukaihaoa ia Laielohelohe i uka o Wahiawa ma kahi i oleloia o Kukaniloko. Iloko o ko Laieikawai mau la ma Waiapuka, ua hoomauia ka pio ana o ke anuenue ma kela wahi, iloko o ka manawa ua a me ka malie, i ka po a me ke ao; aka, aole nae i hoomaopopo na mea a pau i ke ano o keia anuenue; aka, ua hoomauia keia mau hailona alii ma na wahi i malamai'ai ua mau mahoe nei. I kekahi manawa, ia Hulumaniani e kaahele ana ia Kauai apuni, ma kona ano Makaula nui no Kauai, a ia ia i hiki ai iluna pono o Kalalea, ike mai la oia i ka pio a keia anuenue i Oahu nei; noho iho la oia malaila he iwakalua la, i kumu e ike maopopoi'ai o ke ano o kana mea e ike nei. Ia manawa, ua, maopopo lea i ka Makaula he Alii Nui ka mea nona keia anuenue e pio nei, a me na onohi elua i hoopuniia i na ao polohiwa apuni. Ia manawa, hooholo ae la ka Makaula i kona manao e holo i Oahu, i maopopo ai ia ia kana mea e ike nei. Haalele keia ia wahi, hiki aku la keia i Anahola, hoolimalima aku la keia i waa e holo ai i Oahu nei; aka, aole i loaa ia ia he waa e holo ai i Oahu nei. Kaapuni hou ka Makaula ia Kauai a puni, pii hou oia iluna o Kalalea, a ike hou no oia i kana mea i ike mua ai, aia no e mau ana e like no me mamua, alaila, hoi hou keia a hiki i Anahola. I ua Makaula nei malaila, lohe keia o Poloula ka mea waa o Wailua, no ka mea, he alii ia no ia wahi, ake aku la oia e halawai me Poloula, me ka manao e noi aku i ke alii i waa e hiki ai i Oahu. Ia Hulumaniani i halawai aku ai me Poloula, nonoi aku la oia i waa e holo ai i Oahu nei; alaila, haawiia mai la ka waa me na kanaka; ia po iho, i ka hiki ana o ka Hokuhookelewaa, haalele lakou ia Kauai, he umikumamalima ko lakou nui, hiki mua mai la lakou ma Kamaile, i Waianae. Mamua ae nae o ko ka Makaula holo ana mai, ua hoomakaukau mua oia hookahi puaa hiwa, he moa lawa, a me ka i-a ula. Ia la o lakou i hiki ai ma Waianae, kauoha ka Makaula i na kanaka e noho malaila a hoi mai oia mai ka huakai kaapuni ana. I ua Makaula nei i hele ai, hiki mua keia iluna pono o Maunalahilahi, ike aku la keia i ke anuenue e pio ana ma Koolauloa, e like me kana ike ana i kona mau la iluna o Kalalea. A hiki keia i Waiapuka, kahi i malamaia ai o Laieikawai, ike iho la oia aole he kuleana kupono o kela wahi e nohoi'ai e na'lii. I kela manawa nae a ka Makaula i hiki ai ilaila, ua nalo mua aku o Waka ma kahi i hunai'ai o Laieikawai. I ka manawa nae a ka Makaula e kunana ana, alaila, ike aku la oia i ka aleale ana o ka wai o ko Waka luu ana aku. Olelo iho la ka Makaula iloko ona, "He mea kupanaha, aole hoi he makani o keia lua wai e kuleana ai la hoi ka aleale ana o ka wai, me he mea he mea e auau ana, a ike ae nei ia'u pee iho nei." A pau ko Waka manawa ma kahi o Laieikawai, hoi mai la oia; aka, ike ae la keia maloko o ka wai i keia mea e noho ana maluna iho, emi hope hou aku la o Waka, no ka mea, ua manao oia o Kahauokapaka, keia mea ma kae o ka luawai. Hoi hou aku la o Waka me kana moopuna, a hiki i ka molehulehu ana, hoomakakiu hou mai la oia me ka manao ua hele aku kela mea ana i ike ai; aka, aia no ua Makaulanei ma kana wahi i noho mua ai, nolaila, hoi hope hou o Waka. Ua noho ua Makaula nei ma ke kae o kela luawai, a moe oia malaila a ao ia po. Ia kakahiaka ana ae, i ka manawa molehulehu, ala ae la oia, ike aku la kela i ka pio a ke anuenue i uka o Kukaniloko, haalele keia ia wahi, kaapuni keia ia Oahu nei, ma Koolaupoko kona hele mua ana, a ma Kona nei, a mai anei aku hiki ma Ewa; a hiki keia i Honouliuli, ike aku la ua Makaula nei i ka pio o ke anuenue i uka o Wahiawa, pii loa aku la oia a hiki i Kamaoha, a malaila oia i moe ai a ao ia po, aole oia i ike i kana mea i ukali mai ai. MOKUNA II A nele ka Makaula i ka ike i kana mea e ukali nei, haalele keia ia Kamaoha, hiki keia iluna pono o Kaala, a malaila oia i ike ai e pio ana ke anuenue i Molokai; nolaila, haalele ka Makaula ia wahi, kaapuni hou ia Oahu nei; o ka lua ia o kana huakai kaapuni ana, i mea e hiki ai ia ia ke ike maopopo i kana mea e ukali nei, no ka mea, ua ano e ka hana a ke anuenue, no ka holoholoke ana i kela wahi keia wahi. I ka la a ua Makaula nei i haalele ai ia Kaala, hiki mua aku oia iluna o Kuamooakane, aia hoi e pio ana ke anuenue i Molokai, e ku ana ka punohu i uhipaaia e na ao hekili, ekolu mau la oia nei ma Kuamooakane, ua hoomauia ka uhi paapu a ka ua a me ka noe. I ka eha o na la oia nei malaila, loaa ia ia he waa e holo ana i Molokai; kau aku la oia maluna o ka waa, a holo aku la a like a like o ka moana, loaa ka manao ino i na mea waa, no ka mea, ua uluhua laua i ua Makaula nei no ka hiamoe, a me ka ala a mau ana o kahi puaa, a o-o-o mau no hoi o kahi moa. A no keia mea, kunou aku la ka mea mahope o ka waa i ke kanaka iluna o kuaiako, e hoi hou ka waa i hope, a hoonoho hou i ka Makaula i Oahu nei, a ua like ka manao o na mea waa ma ia mea e hoihoi hope ka waa, e moe ana nae ka Makaula ia manawa. Hoohuli ae la na mea waa i ka waa i hope a holo i Oahu nei; ia manawa a ka waa e hoi hope nei, hoohuoi iho la ka Makaula i ka pa ana a ka makani ma kona papalina, no ka mea, ua maopopo ia ia kahi a ka makani i pa ai i ka holo ana mai Oahu aku nei manao iho la oia, ma kai mai ka makani e pa nei. Nolaila, kaakaa ae la na maka o ka Makaula, aia hoi e hoi hou ana ka waa i Oahu nei; ia manawa, nalu iho la ka Makaula i ke kumu o keia hoi hou ana o ka waa. Aka hoi, no ko ianei makemake e ike maopopo i ka hana a na mea waa, pule aku la oia i kona Akua ia Kuikauweke, e hooili mai i ka ino nui maluna o ka moana. Ia ia e pule ana iloko ona iho, hiki koke mai la ka ino nui maluna o lakou, a pono ole ka manao o na mea waa. Ia manawa, hoala ae la na mea waa ia ianei, "E keia kanaka e moe nei! e ala ae paha oe, kainoa paha he pono kau i kau mai ai maluna o ko maua waa, aole ka! oia no ka moe a nei kanaka la o uka." Alaila, ala ae la ua Makaula nei, e hooiho ana ka waa i Oahu nei. Alaila, ninau aku la oia i na mea waa, "Heaha iho nei keia hana a olua ia'u i hoi hope ai ka waa? A heaha kuu hewa?" Alaila, olelo mai la na mea waa, "Ua uluhua maua no kou hiamoe, a me ka alala mau o ko wahi puaa, a me ke kani mau a ko wahi moa, nolaila kulikuli; mai ka holo ana mai nei no ka ke kulikuli a hiki i keia manawa, ua pono no la hoi ia, i na la hoi e hoe ana oe, aole ka, he moe wale iho no ka kau." I aku la ka Makaula, "Ua hewa olua i kuu manao; ina o kuu noho wale ke kumu o ka hoi hou ana o ka waa o kakou i Oahu, alaila, ke olelo nei au, ua hewa ka mea iluna o kuaiako, no ka mea, he noho wale iho no kana, aole ana hana." Ia lakou e kamailio ana no keia mau mea, lele aku la ka Makaula mahope o ka waa, a lilo iho la ia ia ka hookele, holo aku la lakou a kau ma Haleolono i Molokai. Ia lakou i hiki aku ai malaila, aia hoi, e pio ana ke anuenue i Koolau, e like me kana ike ana i kona mau la maluna o Kuamooakane, haalele keia i na mea waa, ake aku la oia e ike i kana mea i ukali mai ai. Ia hele ana hiki mua keia i Waialala maluna pono ae o Kalaupapa; ia ianei malaila, ike maopopo aku la oia e pio ana ke anuenue iluna o Malelewaa, ma kahi nihinihi hiki ole ke heleia. Aia nae malaila kahi i hunaia ai o Laieikawai, oia a me kona kupunawahine, e like me ke kauoha mau a Kapukaihaoa ia Waka ma ka hihio. No ka mea, i ka Makaula e holo mai ana ma ka moana, ua ike mua e aku o Kapukaihaoa i ka Makaula, a me kana mau hana, nolaila oia i olelo mau ai ia Waka ma ka hihio e ahai mua ia Laieikawai ma kahi hiki ole ke loaa. I ka Makaula i haalele ai ia Waialala, hiki aku keia ma Waikolu ilalo pono o Malelewaa, aia nae e pio ana ke anuenue i kahi hiki ole ia ia ke hele aku; aka, ua noonoo ka Makaula i kekahi manawa, i wahi e hiki ai e ike i kana mea e ukali nei, a waiho aku i kana kanaenae i hoomakaukau mua ai, aole nae e hiki. I kela la a ka Makaula i hiki ai ma Waikolu, ia po iho, hiki mua ke kauoha a Kapukaihaoa ia Laieikawai ma ka moeuhane, a puoho ae la oia, he moeuhane. Alaila, hoala aku la o Laieikawai i kona kupunawahine, a ala ae la, ninau aku la ke kupunawahine i kana moopuna i ke kumu o ka hoala ana. Hai mai la ka moopuna, "Ua hiki mai o Kapukaihaoa i o'u nei ma ka moeuhane, e olelo mai ana, e ahai loa oe ia'u i Hawaii a hoonoho ma Paliuli, a malaila kaua e noho ai, pela mai nei oia ia'u, a puoho wale ae la wau la, hoala aku la ia oe." Ia Laieikawai nae e kamailio ana i ke kupunawahine, hiki iho la ka hihio ma o Waka la, a ua like me ka ka moopuna e olelo ana, ia manawa, ala ae la laua i ke wanaao a hele aku la e like me ke kuhikuhi a Kapukaihaoa ia laua ma ka moeuhane. Haalele laua ia wahi, hiki aku laua ma Keawanui, kahi i kapaia o Kaleloa, a malaila laua i halawai ai me ke kanaka e hoomakaukau ana i ka waa e holo ai i Lanai. La laua i halawai aku ai me ka mea waa, olelo aku la o Waka, "E ae anei oe ia maua e kau pu aku me oe ma ko waa, a holo aku i kau wahi i manao ai e holo?" Olelo mai la ka mea waa, "Ke ae nei wau e kau pu olua me a'u ma ka waa, aka hookahi no hewa, o ko'u kokoolua ole e hiki ai ka waa." Ia manawa a ka mea waa i hoopuka ai i keia olelo "i kokoolua" hoewaa, wehe ae la o Laieikawai i kona mau maka i uhiia i ka aahu kapa, mamuli o ka makemake o ke kupunawahine e huna loa i kana moopuna me ka ike oleia mai e na mea e ae a hiki i ko laua hiki ana i Paliuli, aka, aole pela ko ka moopuna manao. I ka manawa nae a Laieikawai i hoike ai i kona mau maka mai kona hunaia ana e kona kupunawahine, luliluli ae la ke poo o ke kupunawahine, aole a hoike kana moopuna ia ia iho, no ka mea, e lilo auanei ka nani o kana moopuna i mea pakuwa wale. I ka manawa nae a Laieikawai i wehe ae ai i kona mau maka, ike aku la ka mea waa i ka oi kelakela o ko Laieikawai helehelena mamua o na kaikamahine kaukaualii o Molokai a puni, a me Lanai. Aia hoi, ua hookuiia mai ka mea waa e kona iini nui no kana mea e ike nei. A no keia mea, noi aku la ka mea waa i ke kupunawahine, me ka olelo aku, "E kuu loa ae oe i na maka o ko moopuna mai kona hoopulouia ana, no ka mea, ke ike nei wau ua oi aku ka maikai o kau milimili, mamua o na kaikamahine kaukaualii o Molokai nei a me Lanai." I mai la ke kupunawahine. "Aole e hiki ia'u ke wehe ae ia ia, no ka mea, o kona makemake no ka huna ia ia iho." A no keia olelo a Waka i ka mea waa mamuli o kana noi, alaila, hoike pau loa ae la o Laieikawai ia ia mai kona hunaia ana, no ka mea, ua lohe aku la o Laieikawai i ka olelo a kona kupunawahine, o Laieikawai no ka makemake e huna ia ia; aka, ua, makemake ole keia e huna. A no ka ike maopopo loa ana aku o ka mea waa ia Laieikawai, alaila, he nuhou ia i ka mea waa. Alaila, kupu ae la ka manao ano e iloko ona, e hele e hookaulana ia Molokai apuni, no keia mea ana e iini nei. Alaila, olelo aku la ua mea waa nei ia Laieikawai ma, "Auhea olua, e noho olua i ka hale nei, na olua na mea a pau oloko, aole kekahi mea e koe o ka hale nei ia olua, o olua maloko a mawaho o keia wahi." A no ka hoopuka ana o ka mea waa i keia olelo, alaila, olelo aku la o Laieikawai, "E ke kamaaina o maua, e hele loa ana anei oe? No ka mea, ke ike lea nei maua i kou kauoha honua ana, me he mea la e hele loa ana oe?" I aku la ke kamaaina, "E ke kaikamahine, aole pela, aole au e haalele ana ia oula; aka, i manao ae nei au e huli i kokoolua no'u e hoe aku ai ia olua a pae i Lanai." A no keia olelo a ka mea waa, i aku la o Waka i ke kamaaina o laua nei, "Ina o ke kumu ia o kou hele ana i kauoha honua ai oe i na mea a pau o kou hale ia maua; alaila, ke i aku nei wau, he hiki ia maua ke kokua ia oe ma ka hoe ana." A ike ka mea waa he mea kaumaha keia olelo a Waka imua ona. Olelo aku la oia imua o na malahini, "Aole o'u manao e hoounauna aku ia olua e kokua mai ia'u ma ka hoe pu ana i ka waa, no ka mea, he mea nui olua na'u." Aka, aole pela ka manao o ka mea waa e huli i kokoolua hoe waa pu me ia, no ka mea, ua hooholo mua oia i kana olelo hooholo iloko ona, e hele e kukala aku ia Laieikawai apuni o Molokai. A pau ke kamailio ana a lakou i keia mau olelo, haalele iho la ka mea waa ia laua nei, a hele aku la e like me ka olelo hooholo mua iloko ona. Ia hele ana, ma Kaluaaha kona hiki mua ana, a moe aku oia i Halawa, a ma keia hele ana a ia nei, ua kukala aku oia i ka maikai o Laieikawai e like me kona manao paa. A ma kekahi la ae, i ke kakahiaka nui, loaa ia ia ka waa e holo ana i Kalaupapa, kau aku la oia maluna o ka waa, hiki mua oia i Pelekunu, a me Wailau, a mahope hiki i Waikolu kahi a ka Makaula e noho ana. Ia ia nae i hiki aku ai i Waikolu, ua hala mua aku ua Makaula nei i Kalaupapa, aka, o ka hana mau a ua wahi kanaka nei, ke kukala hele no Laieikawai. A hiki keia i Kalaupapa, aia hoi, he aha mokomoko e akoakoa ana ku aku la oia mawaho o ka aha, a kahea aku la me ka leo nui, "E ka hu, e na makaainana, e ka lopakuakea, lopahoopiliwale, e na'lii, na Kahuna, na kilo, na aialo, ua ike au i na mea a pau ma keia hele ana mai nei a'u, ua ike i na mea nui, na mea liilii, na kane, na wahine, na kaukaualii kane, na kaukaualii wahine, ka niaupio, ke ohi, aole wau i ike i kekahi oi o lakou e like me ka'u mea i ike ai, a ke olelo nei au, oia ka oi mamua o na kaikamahine kaukaualii o Molokai nei apuni, a me keia aha no hoi." Ia manawa nae a ia nei e kahea nei, aole i lohe pono mai ka aha, no ka mea, ua uhiia kona leo e ka haukamumu leo o ka aha, a me ka nene no ka hoouka kaua. A no ko ianei manao i lohe ponoia mai kana olelo, oi pono loa aku la ia iwaena o ke anaina, ku iho la oia imua o ka aha, a kuehu ae la oia i ka lepa o kona aahu, a hai hou ae la i ka olelo ana i olelo mua ai. Iloko o keia manawa, lohe pono loa aku la ke Alii nui o Molokai i keia leo, alaila hooki ae la ke alii i ka aha, i loheia aku ai ka olelo a keia kanaka malahini e kuhea nei; no ka mea, iloko o ko ke alii ike ana aku i ua wahi kanaka nei, ua hoopihaia kona mau maka i ka olioli, me ke ano pihoihoi. Kaheaia aku la ua wahi kanaka nei mamuli o ke kauoha a ke alii, a hele mai la imua o ke alii, a ninau aku la, "Heaha kou mea e nui nei kou leo imua o ka aha, me ka maka olioli?" Alaila, hai mai la kela i ke kumu o kona kahea ana, a me kona olioli imua o ke alii. "Ma ke kakahiakanui o ka la i nehinei, e lawelawe ana wau i ka waa no ka manao e holo i Lanai, hoea mai ana keia wahine me ke kaikamahine, aole nae au i ike lea i ke ano o ua kaikamahine la. Aka, iloko o ko maua wa kamailio, hoopuka mai la ke kaikamahine i kona mau maka mai kona hunaia ana, aia hoi, ike aku la wau he kaikamahine maikai, i oi aku mamua o na kaikamahine alii o Molokai nei." A lohe ke alii i keia olelo, ninau aku la, "Ina ua like kona maikai me kuu kaikamahine nei la, alaila, ua nani io." A no keia ninau a ke alii, noi aku la ua wahi kanaka nei e hoikeia mai ke kaikamahine alii imua ona, a laweia mai la o Kaulaailehua ke kaikamahine a ke alii. I aku la ua wahi kanaka nei, "E ke alii! oianei la, eha kikoo i koe o ko iala maikai ia ianei, alaila, like aku me kela." I mai la ke alii, "E! nani io aku la, ke hoole ae nei oe i ka makou maikai e ike nei, no ka mea, o ko Molokai oi no keia." Alaila, olelo aku la kahi kanaka i ke alii me ka wiwo ole, "No ko'u ike i ka maikai, ko'u mea no ia i olelo kaena ai." Ia manawa a kahi kanaka e kamailio ana me ke alii, e noho ana ka Makaula ia manawa e hoolohe ana i ke ano o ke kamailio ana, aka, ua haupu honua ae ka Makaula, me he mea la o kana mea e ukali nei. A no keia mea, neenee loa aku la ka Makaula a kokoke, paa aku la ma ka lima o kahi kanaka, a huki malu aku la ia ia. Ia laua ma kahi kaawale, ninau pono aku la ka Makaula i ua wahi kanaka nei, "Ua ike no anei oe i kela kaikamahine mamua au e kamailio nei i ke alii?" Hoole aku la ua wahi kanaka nei, me ka i aku, "Aole au i ike mamua, akahi no wau a ike, a he mea malahini ia i ko'u mau maka." A no keia mea, manao ae la ka Makaula, o kana mea i imi mai ai, me ka ninau pono aku i kahi i noho ai, a hai ponoia mai la. A pau ka laua kamailio ana, lawe ae la oia i na mea ana i hoomakaukau ai i mohai no ka manawa e halawai aku ai, a hele aku la. MOKUNA III Ia hele ana o ka Makaula mahope iho o ko laua halawai ana me kahi kanaka, hiki mua keia iluna o Kawela; nana aku la oia, e pio ana ke anuenue i kahi a ua wahi kanaka nei i olelo ai ia ia; alaila, hoomaopopo lea iho la ka Makaula o kana mea no e ukali nei. A hiki keia i Kaamola ka aina e pili pu la me Keawanui, kahi hoi a Laieikawai ma e kali nei i ka mea waa, ia manawa, ua poeleele loa iho la, ua hiki ole ia ia ke ike aku i ka mea ana i ike ai iluna o Kawela, aka, ua moe ka Makaula malaila ia po, me ka manao i kakahiaka e ike ai i kana mea e imi nei. I kela po a ka Makaula e moe la i Kaamola, aia hoi, ua hiki ka olelo kauoha a Kapukaihaoa ia Laieikawai ma ka moeuhane, e like me ke kuhikuhi ia laua iloko o ko laua mau la ma Malelewaa. Ia wanaao ana ae, loaa ia laua ka waa e holo ai i Lanai, a kau laua malaila a holo aku la, a ma Maunalei ko laua wahi i noho ai i kekahi mau la. Ia Laieikawai ma i haalele ai ia Kalaeloa ia kakahiaka, ala ae la ka Makaula, e ku ana ka punohu i ka moana, a me ka ua koko, aia nae, ua uhi paapuia ka moana i ka noe a me ke awa, mawaena o Molokai, a me Lanai. Ekolu mau la o ka uhi paapu ana o keia noe i ka moana, a i ka eha o ko ka Makaula mau la ma Kaamola, i ke kakahiaka nui, ike aku la oia e ku ana ka onohi iluna pono o Maunalei; aka, ua nui loa ka minamina o ka Makaula no ke halawai ole me kana mea e imi nei, aole nae oia i pauaho a hooki i kona manaopaa. Ua aneane e hala na la he umi ia ia ma Molokai, ike hou aku la oia e ku ana ka punohu iluna o Haleakala; haalele keia ia Molokai, hiki mua oia iluna o Haleakala ma kela lua pele, aole nae oia i ike i kana mea e imi nei. I ua Makaula nei nae i hiki ai malaila, ike aku la oia ia Hawaii, ua uhi paapuia ka aina i ka ohu, a me ka noe. A haalele keia ia wahi, hiki keia i Kauwiki, a malaila oia i kukulu ai i wahi heiau, kahi hoi e hoomana ai i kona Aku, ka mea hiki ke kuhikuhi i kana mea e imi nei. I ua Makaula nei e kaapuni ana ma na wahi a pau ana i kipa aku ai, ua kauoha mua aku ka Makaula, i na e loaa kana mea e imi nei, alaila, e huli aku ia ia ma kahi e loaa ai. A pau ke kapu heiau a ua Makaula nei ma, Kauwiki, i na po o Kane, a me Lono paha, alaila, ike maopopoia aku la ke kalae ana o ka aina a puni o Hawaii, a ua waiho pono mai na kuahiwi. Ua nui no na la o ka Makaula ma Kauwiki, aneane makahiki a oi ae paha, aole nae oia i ike iki i ka hoailona mau ana e ukali nei. I kekahi la, i ka malama o Kaaona, i na Ku, i ka manawa kakahiaka nui, ike aweawea aku la oia he wahi onohi ma Koolau, o Hawaii; ia manawa, puiwa koke ae la oia me ka lele o kona oili me ka maikai ole o kona noonoo ana; aka, ua kali loihi no oia me ka hoomanawanui a maopopo lea ka hana a kela wahi onohi; a pau ia malama okoa i ka hoomanawanuiia eia, a i kekahi malama ae, i ka la o Kukahi, i ke ahiahi, mamua o ka napoo ana o ka la, komo aku la oia iloko o kona wahi heiau, kahi i hoomakaukau ai no kona Akua, a pule aku la oia. Ia ia e pule ana, a i ka waenakonu o ka manawa, ku mai la imua o ua Makaula nei ke kahoaka o Laieikawai, a me kona kupunawahine; a no keia mea, hooniau aku la oia i ka pule ana, aole nae i haalele kela kahoaka ia ia a hiki i ka maamaama ana. Ia po iho, iloko o kona manawa hiamoe, halawai mai la kona Akua me ia ma ka hihio, i mai la, "Ua ike au i kou luhi, a me kou hoomanawanui ana, me ke ake e loaa ia oe ka moopuna a Waka, me kou manao hoi e loaa kou pomaikai no kana moopuna mai. Iloko o kau pule ana, ua hiki ia'u ke kuhikuhi, e loaa no o Laieikawai ia oe, mawaena o Puna, a me Hilo, iloko o ka ululaau, e noho ana iloko o ka hale i uhiia i na hulu melemele o ka Oo, nolaila, apopo e ku oe a hele." Puoho ae la oia mai ka hiamoe, aia ka he hihio, a no keia mea, pono ole iho la kona manao, aole e hiki ia ia ke moe ia po a ao. Ia po a ao ae i ke kakahiaka nui, ia ia maluna o Kauwiki, ike aku la oia i ke kilepalepa a ka pea o ka waa ilalo o Kaihalulu; holo wikiwiki aku la oia a hiki i ke awa, ninau aku la i kahi a keia waa e holo ai, haiia mai la, "E holo ana i Hawaii," a noi aku la oia e kau pu me lakou ma ka waa, a aeia mai la oia pu me lakou. Hoi hou aku la ka Makaula iluna o Kauwiki, e lawe mai i kana mau wahi ukana, na mea ana i hoomakaukau ai i kanaenae. Ia manawa, aia nei i hiki ai i ka waa, hai mua aku la oia i kona manao i na mea waa, "E na mea waa, e hai mai oukou i ka'u hana ma keia holo ana o kakou; ma ka oukou mea e olelo mai ai, malaila wau e hoolohe ai, no ka mea, he kanaka wau i hana pono oleia e na mea waa i ko'u holo ana mai Oahu mai, nolaila wau e hai mua aku nei ia oukou e na mea waa, malia o like oukou me laua." A no keia olelo a ka Makaula, olelo mai la na mea waa, aole e hanaia kekahi, mea pono ole ma ia holo ana o lakou; a pau keia mau mea kau lakou ma ka waa a holo aku la. Ma ia holo ana hiki mua lakou i Mahukona, ma Kohala, moe malaila ia po, a i ke kakahiaka ana ae, haalele ka Makaula i na mea waa, pii aku la oia a hiki i Lamaloloa, a komo aku la i Pahauna ka hoiau, he heiau kahiko kela mai ka po mai, a hiki i keia manawa. Ua nui loa na la ona malaila o ka noho ana, aole nae oia i ike i kana mea e imi ai; aka, ma kona ano Makaula, hoomau aku la oia i ka pule i ke Akua, e like me kona mau la ma Kauwiki, a no ka pule hoomau a ua Makaula nei, ua looa hou ia ia ke kuhikuhi ana e like me kela hoike ia ia ma Kauwiki. A no keia mea, haalele oia ia wahi, kaahele aku la oia ia Hawaii; ma Hamakua kona hiki mua ana, oi hele aku oia mai ka manawa uuku o kahi puaa a nui loa, a na ka puaa no e hele. Ia ia i hiki ai i Hamakua, malalo o Waipio kona wahi i noho ai ma Pakaalana, aole nae he nui kona mau la malaila. Haalele ka Makaula ia wahi, hiki aku oia i Laupahoehoe, a malaila aku a hiki i Kaiwilahilahi, a malaila oia i noho ai he mau makahiki. (Maanei, e waiho kakou i ka moolelo no pa imi ana o ka Makaula. Pono e kamailio no ka hoi ana o Kauakahialii, i Kauai, me Kailiokalauokekoa: i ike ai kakou, aia o Laieikawai i Paliuli.) Ma na Helu mua o keia Kaao, ua ike kakou na Kapukaihaoa i kauoha ia Waka ma ka moeuhane e hoihoi ia Laieikawai i Paliuli, mamuli o ka ike a ka Makaula. Ua hookoia no nae e like me ke kauoha, ua noho o Laieikawai ma Paliuli, a hiki i kona hookanakamakua ana. Ia Kauakahialii, laua o Kailiokalauokekoa i hoi ai i Kauai, mahope iho o ko laua halawai ana me ka Olali o Paliuli (Laieikawai), a hiki lakou i Kauai, mauka o Pihanakalani, kui aku la ka lono ia Kauaiapuni; akoakoa mai la na'lii, na kaukaualii, a me na makaainana a pau e ike i ka puka malahini ana aku o Kailiokalauokekoa ma, e like me ka mea mau; o Aiwohikupua nae kekahi oia poe Alii i akoakoa pu mai ma keia aha uwe o na malihini. A pau ka uwe ana a lakou, ninau aku la na'lii ia Kauakahialii "Pehea kau hele ana aku nei mamuli o kou hoaa'ia ianei?" (Kailiokalauokekoa.) Alaila, hai aku la o Kauakahialii i kona hele ana, penei: "I ko'u hele ana mai anei aku mamuli o ke aloha o ka wahine, a puni Oahu, a me Maui, aole i loaa ia'u kekahi wahine e like me Kailiokalauokekoa nei; a hiki au i Hawaii, kaapuni wau ia mokupuni. Ma Kohala kuu hiki mua ana. Kaahele au ma Kona, Kau, a hiki au i Keaau, a ma Puna, a malaila wau i noho ai, a malaila wau i halawai ai me kekahi wahine maikai i oi aku mamua o ianei (Kailiokalauokekoa). A o ka oi no hoi ia mamua o na wahine maikai o keia mau mokupuni a pau." Iloko o keia olelo ana a Kauakahialii, hoomaopopo loa mai la o Aiwohikupua i ka helehelena maikai o ua wahine nei. Alaila, hai aku la o Kauakahialii, "I ka po mua, mahope iho o ko laua halawai ana me kuu wahi kahu nei, hai mai la oia i kona manawa e hiki mai ai i kahi o ko makou wahi e noho ana, a hai mai la no hoi oia i na hoailona o kona hiki ana mai; no ka mea, ua olelo aku kuu wahi kahu nei i kane au na ua wahine nei, me ke koi aku no hoi e iho pu mai laua me ua wahi kahu nei o'u, aka, ua hai mai kela i kana olelo, 'E hoi oe a ko hanai, kuu kane hoi au e olelo mai nei, olelo aku oe ia ia, a keia po wau hiki aku, ina e kani aku ka leo o ka Ao, aole wau iloko oia leo; a kani aku ka leo o ka Alala, aole no wau iloko oia leo; i na e kani aku ka leo o ka Elepaio, hoomakaukau wau no ka iho aku; a i kani aku ka leo o ka Apapane, alaila, ua puka wau mawaho o kuu hale nei; hoolohe mai auanei oe a i kani aku ka leo o ka Iiwipolena, alaila, aia wau mawaho o ka hale o ko hanai; imi ae olua a loaa wau mawaho, oia kuu manawa e launa ai me ko hanai.' Pela mai ka olelo ua wahi kahu nei o'u. "I ka po hoi ana e kauoha nei, aole i hiki ae, o i kali aku makou a ao ia po, aole i hiki ae; o na manu wale no kai kani mai, manao iho la wau he wahahee na kuu wahi kahu; i Punahoa nae lakou nei (Kailiokalauokekoa ma) kahi i moe ai me na aikane. No kuu manao he wahahee na kuu wahi kahu, nolaila, kauoha ae ana wau i ka Ilamuku e hoopaa i ke kaula; aka, ua hala e ua wahi kahu nei o'u i uka o Paliuli, e ninau aku i ua wahine nei i ke kumu o kona hiki ole ana i kai ia po, me ka hai aku no hoi e make ana ia. "A pau kana olelo ana ia Laieikawai i keia mau mea, i mai la ka wahine i ua wahi kahu nei o'u, 'E hoi oe, a ma keia po hiki aku au, e like me ka'u kauoha ia oe i ka po mua, pela no wau e hiki aku ai.' "Ia po iho, oia ka po e hiki mai ai ua wahine nei, ua puka mua ae lakou nei (Kailiokalauokekoa ma) i ke ao, i ua po nei e kaao ana no o ianei ia makou, i ke kihi o ke ahiahi, kani ana ka leo o ka Ao; i ka pili o ke ahiahi, kani ana ka leo o ka Alala; i ke kau, kani ka leo o ka Elepaio; i ka pili o ke ao, kani ana ka leo o ka Apapane; a i ka owehewhe ana o ke alaula, kani ana ka leo o ka Iiwipolena; ia kani ana no hoi, malu ana ke aka ma ka puka o ka hale, aia hoi, ua paa oloko i ka noe, a i ka mao ana ae, e kau mai ana kela iluna o ka eheu o na manu, me kona nani nui." A no keia olelo a Kauakahialii imua o na'lii, ua hookuiia mai ko Aiwohikupua kino okoa e ka iini nui, me ka ninau aku, "Owai ka inoa oia wahine?" Haiia aku la oia o Laieikawai; a no ka iini nui o Aiwohikupua i keia mea a Kauakahialii e olelo nei, manao iho la ia e kii i wahine mare nana, aka, ua haohao o Aiwohikupua no keia wahine. Nolaila, hai aku oia i kana olelo imua o Kauakahialii, "Ke haohao nei wau i keia wahine, no ka mea, owau ka mea nana i kaapuni keia mau mokupuni, aole wau i ike i kekahi wahine e kau mai iluna o ka eheu o na manu; me he mea la no kukulu o Tahiti mai ia wahine, noloko o Moaulanuiakea." No ka manao o Aiwohikupua no Moaulanuiakea, o Laieikawai, oia kona mea i manao ai e kii i wahine nana. No ke mea, manua aku o kona lohe ana i keia mau mea, ua olelo paa o Aiwohikupua, aole e lawe i kekahi wahine o keia mau mokupuni i wahine mare nana; ua olelo oia, aia kana wahine makemake noloko o Moaulanuiakea. A pau ke kamailio ana a na'lii no keia mau mea, a me ka walea ana e like me ka mea mau o ka puka malihini ana. A mahope koke iho oia mau la, lawe ae la o Aiwohikupua i kahi o Kauakahialii, i kanaka lawelawe imua o kona alo, me ka manao o Aiwohikupua o kela wahi kanaka ka mea e loaa ai ko ke Alii makemake. A no keia kumu, hoolilo loa ae la o Aiwohikupua i ua wahi kanaka nei i poo kiekie maluna o na mea a pau, o ko ke Alii mau aina a pau, a me na kanaka a pau loa, na'lii a me na makaainana, ma kona ano Kuhina Nui. A lilo ae la ua wahi kanaka nei i mea nui, huahua mai la na punahele mua a Aiwohikupua, aka, he mea ole lakou i ko ke Alii manao. MOKUNA IV Mahope iho o ka lilo ana o ua wahi kanaka nei i mea nui imua o ke Alii, me he Kuhina Nui la; a oia ka hoa kuka mau o ke Alii ma na mea e lealea ai ke Alii, me ka manao aku o ka poe e, e kuka ana ma na mea pili i ka aina, a me na waiwai e like me ka mea mau i ka noho Alii ana. Eia ka o Laieikawai no ka laua kuka mau, a he uuku ke kuka ma na mea e ae. Mamua aku nae o ko Aiwohikupua lohe ana ia Kauakahialii no Laieikawai, ua hoike e oia i kana olelo paa imua o kona mau kaukaualii, a me na kaikuahine ona, a me kona poe aialo a pau, a eia kana olelo paa, "Auhea oukou e ko'u mau kaukaualii, a me na kaikuahine o'u ko'u mau aialo a pau; mai keia la aku a hiki i ko'u mau la hope, aole loa ana wau e lawe i kekahi wahine o keia mau mokupuni i wahine mare na'u, mai Kauai nei a hala loa i Hawaii, ina i oleloia mai he mau wahine maikai, aole no hoi au e haawi i ko'u kino e komo aku ma ke ano kolohe, he oleloa no. No ka mea, he kanaka hana pono oleia wau e na wahine, mai ko'u wa opiopio mai a hiki i ko'u hookanakamakua ana. Aia no ka'u wahine ae ke kii mai, no kekahi mau aina e mai, ina noloko mai o Moaulanuiakea, kahi o na wahine oluolu a'u i lohe ai; alaila, o ka'u wahine makemake ia, i na i kiiia mai wau ma na ano elua." Iloko o ko Aiwohikupua lohe ana ia Kauakahialii, a me ko laua kuka mau ana me kona Kuhina Nui no Laieikawai, alaila, manaopaa ae la ke Alii no Tahiti mai ua wahine la. I kekahi la, i ke awakea, hiamoe iho la ke Alii, loaa iho la o Laieikawai ia Aiwohikupua ma ka moeuhane, ua like kana ike ana ia Laieikawai ma ka moeuhane me ka Kauakahialii olelo ana ia ia. A puoho ae la ke Alii he moeuhane kana. Iloko oia ala ana ae, aia hoi, he mea minamina loa i ke Alii i kona ike ana ia Laieikawai ma ka moeuhane, no ka mea, ua ala e mai ka hiamoe o ke Alii; a no ia mea, makemake iho la ke Alii e loaa hou ia ia ka hiamoe loihi ana ma ia awakea, i kumu e ike hou aku ai i kana mea i ike ai ma ka moeuhane. Hoao hou iho la ke Alii e hiamoe hou, loaa hou no o Laieikawai ma ka hihio pokole loa, aole nae oia i ike maopopo loa aku, he wahi helehelena wale no kana ike lihi ana, a hikilele ae a oia. A no keia mea, ua ano e loa ko ke Alii manao, ia manawa ka hoopuka ana a ke Alii i olelo paa imua o kona mau mea a pau, penei no ia: "Auhea oukou, mai walaau oukou iloko o kuu wa hiamoe, mai hamumumu, a ina e walaau, he alii aimoku, e pau kona aimoku ana; ina lie alii aiahupuaa, e pau la; a ina he konohiki, a lopa paha ka mea nana i hahai kuu olelo paa, alaila, o ka make ka uku." Oia iho la ka olelo paa a ke Alii, no ka mea, tia makemake loa ke Alii e loaa ia ia ka hiamoe loihi i kumu e launa hou ai laua ma ka moeuhane me Laieikawai. A pau ka ke Alii olelo ana no keia mau mea, hoomaka hou oia e hiamoe, aole nae i loaa ia ia ka hiamoe a hiki i ka napoo ana o ka la. Iloko o keia hana a ke Alii, aole nae oia i hai aku i keia mea ana e ike nei ma ka moeuhane, ua huna loa ke Alii i kona hoa kuka mau, manao la hoi oia, aia a loaa hou aku, alaila hai aku i kona hoa Kuhina Nui. A no ka makemake loa o ke Alii e loaa mau ia ia ka moeuhane mau no Laieikawai, kauoha ae la oia i kona Kuhina Nui e mama i awa. A nolaila, hoolale koke ae la ke Kuhina i na mea mama awa o ke Alii e mama i ka awa, a makaukau ko ke Alii makemake, a laweia mai la, inu iho la ke Alii me kona Kuhina, a oki mai la ka ona a ka awa. Kau koke mai la nae iluna o ke Alii ka halialia aloha o Laieikawai, me he mea ala ua launa kino mamua. Alaila, hapai ae la ia i wahi olelo ma ke mele penei: "Kau mai ana i o'u nei Ka halialia nae lehua o Puna, I lawea mai e ka lau makani, E ka ahe makani puulena o ka lua, Hiamoe ole loko i ka minamina, I ka makemake--e." I aku la ke Kuhina o ke Alii, mahope iho o ka pau, ana o ke mele ana, "He mea kupanaha, aole hoi au wahine a kaua e noho nei, aka, iloko o kau mele e heluhelu nei, me he wahine la kau." I mai la ke Alii, "Ua oki na olelo a kaua, no ka mea, ke oki mai nei ka ona o ka awa ia'u." Iloko oia manawa, haule aku la ke Alii i ka hiamoe nui, o ke oki no ia, no ka mea, ua poina loa ka hiamoe o ke Alii, ua ike ole ke Alii i kana mea e manao ai. Hookahi po, hookahi ao o ka moe ana mama ka ona awa o ke Alii. Olelo aku la ke Alii i kona hoa kuka, "Ma keia ona awa o kaua, aole i waiwai iki." I mai la kona hoa kuka, "Pehea la ka hoi ka waiwai o ka ona awa? Kainoa o ka ona no kona waiwai, o ka mahuna alua." I mai la ke Alii, "Aole hoi paha oia, o ka ike aku ka hoi paha la ia Laieikawai, alaila waiwai ka ona ana o ka awa." Mahope iho oia manawa, hoomau aku la ke Alii i ka inu awa a hala na la he nui, ua like paha me hookahi makahiki, aole nae ke Alii i ike i ka waiwai oia hana ana, nolaila, hoopau iho la ke Alii ia hana. Mahope iho o ko ke Alii hoopau ana no ka inu awa, akahi no a hai aku ke Alii i ka loaa ana o Laieikawai ma ka moeuhane, a me ke kumu o kona hoomau ana i ka inu awa, a hai pu aku la no hoi ke Alii i ke kumu o kona kau ana i kanawai paa, no ka mea walaau iloko o kona wa hiamoe. Ia laua e kamailio ana no keia mau mea, alaila, hoomaopopo loa ae la ke Alii e holo i Hawaii e ike ia Laieikawai. Ia wa ka hoopuka ana o laua i olelo hooholo no ke kii ia Laieikawai i wahine mare. I ka pau ana o na la ino, a hiki mai ka manawa kupono no ka holo moana, kauoha ae la ke Kuhina i na Kapena waa o ke Alii, e hoomakaukau i na waa no ka holo i Hawaii ia po iho, ia manawa ke koho ana a ke Alii i na hoewaa kupono ke holo pu, ko ke Alii mau Iwikuamoo ponoi. Mamua o ka napoo ana o ka la, kauohaia ka poe nana uli o ke Alii, a me na Kilokilo e nana i na ouli o ke ao a me ka moana, i na he hiki i ke Alii ke hele, a ina he hiki ole e like me ka mea mau; aka, ua maopopo i kona poe nana uli a Kilokilo hoi, he hike i ke Alii ke hele i kana huakai. A i ka wanaao, i ka puka ana o ka Hokuhookelewaa, kau aku la ke Alii a me kona Kuhina, na hoewaa he umikumamaono, na hookele elua, he iwakalua ko lakou nui maluna o na kaulua, a holo aku la. Ia holo ana a lakou ma keia holo ana, hiki mua lakou ma Nanakuli, i Waianae, ia wanaao, haalele lakou ia wahi, hiki mua lakou i Mokapu, a malaila lakou i noho ai he umi la, no ka mea, ua loohia iakou e ka ino, hiki ole ke holo i Molokai. A pau na la he umi, ike maopopoia aku la ka malie, a maikai ka moana. Ia po iho a ao, hiki lakou i Polihua, ma Lanai, a mailaila aku hiki ma Ukumehame, a no ka makani ino ia la, ua noho lakou malaila, a i kekahi la ae, haalele lakou ia wahi, hiki lakou i Kipahulu ia la. Ia lakou ma Kipahulu, hooholo ae la ke Alii i olelo e hele wawae mauka, a ma na waa na kanaka. Ma kahi nae a lakou i noho ai, ua nui ka poe mahalo no Aiwohikupua no ke kanaka maikai. Haalele lakou ia Kipahulu, hiki lakou ma Hana, ma uka no ke Alii me kona Kuhina, ma na waa no na kanaka. I ke Alii nae e hele ana, he nui ka poe i ukali ia laua, no ka makemake ia Aiwohikupua. Ia lakou i hiki aku ai ma ke awa pae waa o Haneoo i Hana, he nue ka poe i lulumi mai e makaikai i ke Alii, no ka pakela o ka maikai. Ia Aiwohikupua ma nae i hiki aku ai, e heenalu mai ana na kane a me na wahine i ka nalu o Puhele, aia nae ilaila kekahi kaikamahine Alii maikai kaulana o Hana, o Hinaikamalama kona inoa. Iloko hoi o ko laua ike ana i ua kaikamahine Alii nei o Hana, alaila, ua hoopuniia ke Alii kane, a me kona Kuhina e na kuko; a oia no hoi ke kumu o ko Aiwohikupua ma noho ana malaila ia la. A pau ka heenalu ana a na kamaaina, a i ka nalu pau loa o ko Hinaikamalama hee ana, o ka nalu ia i pae, hoopolilei mai la ka hee ana a ke kaikamahine Alii ma ka wai o Kumaka, kahi hoi a Aiwohikupua ma e noho mai ana. I ke kaikamahine Alii nae e auau ana i ka wai o Kumaka, ua hoopuiwaia ke Alii kane, a me kona Kuhina e ke kuko ino. A no ia mea, iniki malu aku la ke Kuhina o ke Alii ia Aiwohikupua, e hookaawale ia lana mai kahi a Hinaikamalama e auau ana, i ole laua e pilikia ma ka manao. Ia Aiwohikupua ma i hoomaka ai e hookaawale ia laua mai ko ke Alii wahine wahi e auau ana, alaila, pane aku la ke Alii wahine, "E na'lii! he holo ka hoi ka olua, kainoa hoi he wehe ko ke kapa, lele iho hoi he wai, hookahi hoi ka auau ana o kakou, hoi aku he hale, a moe, he ai no, he i-a no hoi, a he wahi moe no hoi, oia iho la no ka waiwai a ke kamaaina, i makemake no hoi e hele, hele no, ina he makemake e noho, o Hana no hoi nei noho iho." A no keia olelo a ke Alii wahine, I aku la ke Kuhina i ke Alii, "E! pono ha ka manao o ke Alii wahine, no ka mea, ua makemake loa ke Alii wahine ia oe." I mai la o Aiwohikupua, "Ua makemake au i ke Alii wahine, no ka mea, ke ike lea nei au i ka oi loa o kona maikai mamua o ka'u mau wahine mua nana i kumakaia; aka, ua lohe oe i ka'u hoohiki paa ana, aole au e lawe mai i kekahi wahine o keia mau moku i wahine na'u." A no keia olelo a Aiwohikupua, i aku kona Kuhina, "Ua laa oe no kela hoohiki au, alaila, e aho na'u ka wahine a kaua." A pau keia kamailio liilii ana a laua, hele aku la laua i ka heenalu. A ia laua e heenalu ana, aia hoi, ua hoopuniia mai la ke Alii wahine no Aiwohikupua, a ua nui ka poe i hoopuni paaia no ka makemake i ke Alii kane. A pau ka auau ana a laua, hoi aku la laua me ka manao e kau maluna o na waa a holo aku; aka, ike aku la o Aiwohikupua i ke Alii wahine e konane mai ana, a manao iho la ke Alii kane malihini e hele i ke konane; aka, ua lilo mua na ke Alii wahine ke kahea e konane laua. A hiki o Aiwohikupua ma kahi o ke Alii wahine, kau na ilili a paa ka papa, ninau mai ke Alii wahine, "Heaha ke kumu pili o ka malihini ke make i ke kamaaina?" I aku o Aiwohikupua, "He mau waa kaulua ko'u kumu pili, aia ke lana mai la iloko o ke kai, oia ko'u kumu pili me oe." I mai la ke Alii wahine, "Aole he maikai o kou kumu pili e ka malihini, hookahi no kumu pili mama loa, oia na kino no o kaua, ina e make au ia oe, alaila, e lilo wau nau, ma kau hana e olelo mai ai, malaila wau e hoolohe ai, a e hooko ai hoi, ma ka mea kupono nae i ka hooko aku, a ina hoi e make oe ia'u, alaila, o oe no ka'u, e like me kau hana ia'u, pela no au e hana ai ia oe, me ko noho i Maui nei." A no keia olelo a ke Alii wahine, hooholo koke ae la ke Alii kane i ka olelo ae. I ka hahau ana a laua i ka papa mua, make o Aiwohikupua. Alaila, i mai la ke Alii wahine, "Ua eo ia'u, aohe ou kumu e ae e pili mai ai, a ina nae he kaikaina kou, alaila ae aku au e pili hou kaua." A no keia mau olelo maikai a ke Alii wahine imua o Aiwohikupua, alaila, hooholo koke ae la oia i kona manao ae ma ka waha wale no. A iloko o ko laua manawa kamailio, hoopuka aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona manao imua o ke Alii wahine, "He nani hoi ia ua pili ae nei ko'u kino me oe, a ua maikai no; aka, aole kaua e launa koke, aia a hoi mai au mai kuu kuakai kaapuni ia Hawaii; no ka mea, ua hoohiki wau mamua o kuu holo ana mai nei, aole wau e launa me kekahi o na wahine e ae, aia no a puni o Hawaii, alaila, hana wau e like me kuu makemake, e like me ka kaua e kamailio nei, a oia hoi ka hookoia ana o kou makemake. Nolaila, ke kauoha mua aku nei wau ia oe mamua o kuu hele ana, e noho oe me ka maluhia loa, aole e lilo i kekahi mea e ae, aole hoi e hana iki i kekahi mea pono ole e keakea ai i ka kaua hoohiki, a hoi mai wau mai kuu huakai makaikai mai, alaila, e hookoia ke kumu pili o ka wahine Alii. Ina i hoi mai wau, aole oe i maluhia, aole hoi oe i hooko i ka'u mau kauoha, alaila, o ka pau no ia." Aole nae keia o ko Aiwohikupua manao maoli. A pau na kauoha a Aiwohikupua ia Hinaikamalama, haalele lakou ia Maui, hiki lakou nei i Kapakai ma Kohala. I kekahi la ae, haalele lakou ia Kapakai, holo aku la lakou a mawaho pono o Kauhola, nana aku la o Aiwohikupua i ka akoakoa lehulehu ana o na kanaka mauka o Kapaau. Ia manawa, kauoha ae la o Aiwohikupua i na hoewaa, e hookokoke aina aku na waa, no ka mea, ua makemake ke Alii e ike i ke kumu o keia akoakoa lehulehu ana o na kanaka. A hiki lakou i ke awa pae waa ma Kauhola, ninau aku la ke Alii i ke kumu o ka akoakoa lehulehu ana o na kanaka, alaila, hai mai la na kamaaina, he aha mokomoko ke kumu o ia lehulehu ana. Ia manawa, okalakala koke ae la o Aiwohikupua e hele e makaikai i ka aha mokomoko, a hekau iho la na waa o lakou, pii aku la o Aiwohikupua, a me kona Kuhina, a me na hookele elua, eha ko lakou nui o ka pii ana. A hiki lakou i Hinakahua i ke kahua mokomoko, ia manawa, ike mai la ka aha mokomoko i ke keiki Kauai, no ka oi o kona kanaka maikai mamua o na keiki kamaaina, a lilo iho la ka aha i mea haunaele. Mahope iho o keia haunaele ana, hoomaka hou ka hoonoho o ke kahua mokomoko, ia manawa, pili aku la o Aiwohikupua ma ke kumu laau milo, e nana ana no ka hoouka kaua. Ia Aiwohikupua nae e ku ana ma kona wahi, puka mai la o Ihuanu a ku iwaena o ke kahua mokomoko, e hoike ana ia ia iho imua o ke anaina, a kahea mai la me ka leo nui, "Owai ka mea ma kela aoao mai e hele mai e mokomoko?" Aka, aole e hiki i kekahi mea ke aa mai e ku imua o Ihuanu, no ka mea, o ko Kohala oi kelakela no ia ma ka ikaika i ke kuikui. Ia Ihuanu e hoike ana ia ia iho, huli ae la oia, a ike ia Aiwohikupua, kahea mai la, "Pehea oe e ka malihini? E pono paha ke lealea?" A lohe o Aiwohikupua i keia leo kahea a Ihuanu, hele aku la a ku imua o ke kahua kaua, e hawele ana me kona aahu pukohukohu, i like me ke ano mau o na Puali o ke Alii. Pane aku la oia imua o kona hoa hakaka. "E ke kamaaina, ua noi nai oe ia'u e lealea kaua, a eia hoi ka'u noi ia oe, i elua mai ma kou aoao, huipu me oe, akolu oukou, alaila mikomiko iki iho ka malihini." A lohe o Ihuanu i keia olelo a Aiwohikupua, i mai la oia, "He oi oe o ke kanaka nana i olelo hookano iho nei wau imua o keia aha a pau, owau no ka oi mamua o na kanaka a pau, a ke olelo mai nei hoi oe i ekolu aku ma keia aoao, a heaha la oe i mua o'u?" Olelo mai la o Aiwohikupua, "Aole au e aa aku e hakaka me oe ma kau noi, ke ole oe e ku mai me na mea e ae ma kou aoao, a heaha hoi oe imua o'u! Nolaila, ke olelo paa nei wau ano, he hiki ia'u ke hoolilo i keia Aha i mea ole iloko o kuu lima." A no keia olelo a Aiwohikupua, hele mai la kekahi o na puali ikaika a ma ke kua o Aiwohikupua, olelo mai la. "E! mai olelo aku oe ia Ihuanu, o ko Kohala oi no kela; aohe puko momona o Kohala nei i kela kanaka." Ia manawa, huli ae la o Aiwohikupua, a pale ae la i ka mea nana i olelo mai ma kona kua, haula aku la ilalo a make loa. MOKUNA V A ike mai la ka aha kanaka a pau o ke kahua mokomoko i ka oi ana o ka ikaika o Aiwohikupua, no ka make loa ana o ke kanaka ma ke pale wale ana no. Ia manawa, hele mai la kekahi mau puali o Ihuanu, a olelo mai la ia Ihuanu penei: "E Ihuanu e! ke ike maopopo lea aku nei wau ano i keia manawa, aole e lanakila ana ko kakou aoao, a ma kuu manao paa hoi, e lanakila ana ka malihini maluna o kakou, no ka mea, ke ike maopopo aku la no oe, ua make loa ko kakou kanaka i ka welau wale no o koia la lima, ahona a kui maoli aku kela, lele liilii. Nolaila, ke noi aku nei au ia oe, e hui ka aha, e pono ke hoopau ka mokomoko ana, a me kou aa ana aku i ka malihini, a nolaila, e hele oe a i ka malihini, e lulu lima olua, a e haawi aku i kou aloha nona, i aloha pu ai olua me ka ike aku o ka aha ua hoomoe a pau wale ke kaua." Iloko o keia olelo, alaila, ua ho-ai'a ka inaina wela o Ihuanu no keia olelo, me ka olelo aku, "E ko'u poe kokua, mai maka'u oukou, mai hopohopo no ka make ana o kela kanaka o kakou ma ke pale ana i ka welau o kona lima, aole anei wau i hana pela i kekahi mau la mamua ae nei maanei? A heaha la oukou i maka'u ai; a nolaila, ke hai aku nei wau ia oukou, ina i hopo oukou no kela malihini, alaila, e huna oukou i ko oukou mau maka i ke aouli, aia a lohe aku oukou ua lanakila o Ihuanu, alaila, hoomanao oukou i kuu puupuu ia Kanikapiha, ka ai a ke kumu i ao oleia ia oukou. No ka mea, ke ike nei wau, aole e lanakila mai oia maluna o'u, no ka mea, ua kani ka pola o kuu malo i keia la." A no keia olelo a Ihuanu, i aku kona mau hoa hui mokomoko, "Auhea oe! Ua pau ka makou olelo, aohe hana i koe, kulia imua o ka ai a ke kumu a kakou i ao pu oleia mai ia makou, a ke olelo mai nei hoi oe, ua kani ka pola o ko malo, malia o lanakila oe i ua malo ou." Alaila, nee aku la kona mau hoa mawaho o ka aha. Ia Ihuanu nae e olelo kaena ana ia ia iho imua o kona mau hoa no kona lanakila maluna o Aiwohikupua, alaila, oi mai la o Aiwohikupua a kokoke iki ma ke alo o Ihuanu, upoipoi ae la oia i kona mau lima ma ka poohiwi, me he moa kane la e hoomakaukau ana no ke kani ana, a olelo aku la oia ia Ihuanu, "E Ihuanu! Kuiia i kuu piko a pololei i eha kauna kui?" A lohe o Ihuanu i keia kaena a Aiwohikupua e kui, alaila, leha ae la na maka o Ihuanu a puni ka aha, ike aku la oia e hiiia mai ana kekahi keiki opiopio loa, alaila, olelo aku la o Ihuanu ia Aiwohikupua, "Aole na'u oe e kui, na kela wahi keiki e hiiia mai la, nana oe e kui, a oia kou hoa hakaka." A lohe o Aiwohikupua i keia olelo, he mea e kona ukiuki, ia manawa, pii ae la ka ula o Aiwohikupua a puni ke kino, me he mea la ua hooluuia i ke koko o na hipa keiki. Huli ae la oia a kupono imua o ka aha, a olelo aku la, "Owai keia kanaka i aa mai ai oia i ke keiki Kauai nei, nolaila, ke olelo nei wau i keia, he hiki i kuu Akua ke haawi mai ia'u e lanakila maluna o keia kanaka, a e hoolilo ae kuu Akua i ke poo o ko oukou ikaika i mea milimili na kuu mau hoewaa." Alaila, kukuli iho la o Aiwohikupua a pule aku la i kona mau Akua penei: "E Lanipipili, Lanioaka, Lanikahuliomealani, e Lono, e Hekilikaakaa, a me Nakolowailani, i keia la, e ike mai oukou ia'u i ka oukou kama, ka oukou pua i koe ma ke ao nei, ma keia la, e haawi mai oukou i ka ikaika a pau maluna o ka oukou kama nei, e hiki no ia oukou ke hoohala i kana puupuu ma kona kui ana mai i ka oukou kama, a ke noi aku nei wau e haawi mai i ke poo o Ihuanu i kuu lima, i mea paani na ko'u mau hoewaa, i ike ai keia aha a pau, owau ke lanakila maluna o keia kanaka i Okipoepoe Oleia. Amene." (Amama.) A pau kana pule ana, ku ae la o Aiwohikupua iluna me ka maka ikaika a makaukau no ka hoouka kaua, a ninau aku la ia Ihuanu, "Ua makaukau anei oe e kue mai ia'u?" Olelo mai la o Ihuanu, "Aole au e kui aku ia oe, nau e kui mua mai ia'u." A lohe ke kumu kui a Ihuanu i keia mau olelo, hele mai la a ma ka aoao o Ihuanu, i mai la, "Hawawa oe e kuu haumana, ina e kena hou mai kela, alaila, e hoomaka oe e kui me kou ikaika a pau, no ka mea, o kona manawa e kena mai ai e kui, oia iho la no ka hoomaka ana," a nolaila, ua pono keia ia Ihuanu. A pau ka laua kamailio ana, ninau hou aku la o Aiwohikupua ia Ihuanu, "Ua makaukau anei oe e kui mai ia'u; ina he manao e kui, kui mai I kuu maka." Ia manawa, i waiho koke mai ana o Ihuanu i ka puupuu, hu ka makani ma ka papalina o Aiwohikupua, aole nae i ku, no ka mea, ua alo o Aiwohikupua, oia ka mea i hala'i. A hala ka puupuu a Ihuanu, e waiho koke ae ana o Aiwohikupua i kana puupuu, ku no i ka houpo, hula ma ke kua; ia manawa, kaikai ae la o Aiwohikupua i ke kanaka me kona lima, a kowali ae la ia Ihuanu imua o ke anaina, a kiola aku la i waho o ka aha, a lanakila iho la o Aiwohikupua maluna o Ihuanu uwauwa aku la ka pihe me ka hui o ka aha i ka poe makaikai. A make iho la o Ihuanu, hele mai la kona mau hoa, e waiho ana, na mea hoi nana i olelo mai e hooki ka hakaka, me ka ninau iho, "E Ihuanu! ua hiki anei i ko ai i ao oleia ia makou ke hoola ia oe, e hakaka hou me kela kanaka ikaika lua ole?" Oia ke olelo henehene a kona mau hoa. I ka lehulehu e lulumi ana no ka make o Ihuanu ko lakou Pukaua, a e uwe ana hoi, hele aku la o Aiwohikupua, a oki ae la i ke poo o Ihuanu, a me ka laau palau a Ihuanu, a kiola aku la i kona mau hookele, oia ka hooko hope loa ana o kana pule. A pau keia mau mea, haalele o Aiwohikupua i ka aha, a hoi aku la a kau iluna o na waa, a holo aku la, kui aku la ka lono o keia make a puni o Kohala, Hamakua, a puni o Hawaii. Holo aku la lakou nei a kau i Honokaape, ma Waipio, mailaila aku a waho o Paauhau, nana ae la lakou e ku ana ka ea o ka lepo o uka, ninau aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona Kuhina, "Heaha la kela lehulehu e paapu mai nei o uka? He mokomoko no paha? Ina he aha mokomoko kela, e hele hou kaua e makaikai." Olelo aku la kona Kuhina, "Ua oki ia manao ou, no ka mea, aole he huakai mokomoko ka kaua i hele mai nei, he huakai imi wahine ka kaua." I mai o Aiwohikupua i ke Kuhina, "Kaheaia aku na hookele, e hooponopono ae na waa a holo pololei aku i ke awa, i lohe aku kakou i keia lehulehu." A hookoia ko ke Alii makemake, a holo aku lakou a malalo o ka pali kahakai, ninau aku la i na wahine e kuiopihi ana, "Heaha kela lehulehu o uka?" Hai mai la na wahine ia lakou, "He aha hookuku mokomoko, a o ka mea oi o ka ikaika, alaila, oia ke hoounaia e hele e kuikui me ke kanaka Kauai i hakaka mai nei me Ihuanu, a make mai nei ua o Ihuanu; oia ia pihe e uwa ala." A no keia mea, kena koke ae la o Aiwohikupua e hekau na waa, a lele aku la o Aiwohikupua, o kona Kuhina aku me na hookele elua, pii aku la lakou nei a hiki i ka aha mokomoko, aia nae lakou ma kahi kaawale mai e nana ana i ka aha. Alaila, hele mai la kekahi kamaaina ma ko lakou nei wahi e noho ana, ninau aku la o Aiwohikupua i ka hana a ka aha, haiia mai la e like me ka olelo a kela mau wahine i olelo ai. Olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua i kahi kamaaina, "E hele oe a olelo aku, owau kekahi e lealea me keia poe, aole nae e lealea me ka poe ikaika ole." I mai la ua wahi kamaaina nei, "Hookahi no ikaika o keia aha o Haunaka, a oia ke hoounaia ana i Kohala, e hakaka me ke kanaka Kauai." Olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua, "E hele koke oe, a olelo aku ia Haunaka e lealea maua." A hiki aku ua wahi kanaka kamaaina nei a halawai me Haunaka; a lohe o Haunaka i keia mau olelo, lulu iho la oia i kona mau lima, paipai ae la i ka umauma, keekeehi na wawae, a peahi mai la ia Aiwohikupua e hele aku iloko o ka aha, a hele aku la o Aiwohikupua, a wehe ae la i kona kihei, a kaei ae la ma kona puhaka. Ia Aiwohikupua ma ka aha, olelo aku la oia imua o Haunaka, "Aole e eha ke keiki Kauai ia oe, he lala kamahele no ka laau ku i ka pali." Ia manawa a Aiwohikupua e kamailio ana no keia mau mea, kahea mai la mawaho o ka aha he wahi kanaka i ike i ka hakaka ana a Aiwohikupua me Ihuanu, "E Haunaka, a me ka aha, aole oukou e pakele i keia kanaka, ua like ka puupuu o keia kanaka me ka pololu, hookahi no kui ia Ihuanu, hula pu ka puupuu ma ke kua, a o ke kanaka no keia i make mai nei o Ihuanu." Ia manawa, lalau mai la o Haunaka i na lima o Aiwohikupua, a aloha mai la oia, a o ka pau no ia, hoaikane laua, hui ka aha. A haalele lakou ia wahi, hele pu aku la o Aiwohikupua ma me ke aikane a kau lakou la ma na waa, a holo aku la a pae i Laupahoehoe. MOKUNA VI (Ma ka Mokuna V o keia Kaao, ua ike kakou ua hiki aku a Aiwohikupua ma Laupahoehoe; maanei e kamailio iki kakou no Hulumaniani ka Makaula nana i ukali mai o Laieikawai, mai Kauai mai, ka mea i olelomuaia ma ka helu mua o keia Kaao.) I ka la a Aiwohikupua ma i haalele ai ia Paauhau, ma Hamakua, i ka la hoi i holo mai ai a hiki i Laupahoehoe, ua ike mua aku ka Makaula i na mea a pau i kekahi ahiahi iho mamua o ko Aiwohikupua hiki ana ma Laupahoehoe, a penei kona ike ana: I ua ahiahi la, mamua o ka napoo ana o ka la, e noho ana ka Makaula ma ka puka o ka hale, nana aku la oia i ke kuku o na opua ma ka nana ana i na ouli o ke ao, a like me ka mea mau i ka poe kilokilo mai ka wa kahiko mai a hiki i keia manawa. I aku la ua Makaula nei, "He waa Alii hoi keia e holo mai nei, he umikumamaiwa kanaka, hookahi Alii Nui, he mau waa kaulua nae." Ia manawa, puiwa koke ae la ka lehulehu e noho pu ana me ka Makaula, a nana aku la aole he mau waa holo mai; nolaila, ninau aku la ka poe me ia, "Auhea hoi na waa au i olelo mai nei he mau waa Alii?" Olelo aku ka Makaula, "Aole he mau waa maoli, ma ka opua ka'u ike ana aku la, apopo e ike kakou he waa Alii." Ia po a ao ae, mahope o ka auina la ike hou aku la oia i ke ku a ka punohu i ka moana, ma ka hoailona i ku ia Aiwohikupua e like me ka mea i maa i ua Makaula nei. (E like paha me ka ike ana i ke Kalaunu Moi o kela Alii keia Alii ke hiki mai io kakou nei, pela paha ka maopopo ana o ko Aiwohikupua punohu i ikeia e ua Makaula nei.) A no ka ike ana o ka Makaula i kela hoailona, ku ae la oia a hopu he wahi puaa, he moa lawa, me ka puawa, e hoomakaukau ana no ka hiki mai o Aiwohikupua. A no keia hana a ka Makaula, he mea haohao loa ia i ko lakou poe, me ka ninau aku, "E hele ana oe e hoomakaukau nei keia ukana au?" Hai mai la ka Makaula, "E hoomakaukau mua ana wau no ka hiki mai o kau Alii o Aiwohikupua, oia kela mea a'u i olelo aku ai ia oukou i ke ahiahi nei, nolaila, eia oia ke holo mai nei i ka moana, nona kela kualau i ka moana, a me keia noe e uhi nei." A kokoke o Aiwohikupua ma i ke awa pae o Laupahoehoe, ia manawa ke kui ana o na hekili he iwakalua, pili pu na kanaka o Hilo nokeia mea, a i ka mao ana ae, ike aku la na mea a pau i keia kaulua e holo mai ana a pae i ke awa, me ka puloulou Alii iluna o na waa, alaila, maopopo ae la ka wanana a ka Makaula I na waa e holo mai ana a pae, ku ana ka Makaula i ke awa, mai luna mai o Kaiwilahilahi, hahau iho la ka Makaula i ka puaa imua o ke Alii, a pule aku la oia ma ka inoa o na Akua o Aiwohikupua, a eia kana pule. "E Lanipipili, e Lanioaka, e Lanikahuliomealani, e Lono, e Hekilikaakaa, e Nakolowailani. E na Akua o kuu Alii, kuu milimili, kuu ihi kapu, ka mea nana e kalua keia mau iwi. Eia ka puaa, ka moa lawa, ka awa, he makana, he mohai, he kanaenae i ke Alii na ka oukou kauwa nei, e ike i ka oukou kauwa ia Hulumaniani homai he ola, i ola nui, i ola loa, a kau i ka puaneane, a kani koo, a palalauhala, a haumakaiola, amama, ua noa, lele wale aku la." Ia manawa a ke Alii e hoolohe ana i ka pule a ka Makaula, ike mai la o Aiwohikupua, o kana Makaula keia, ua mokumokuahua ka manawa o ke Alii i ke aloha i kana kauwa, no ka mea, ua loihi ka manawa o ka nalo ana, aole no hoi i ikeia ka manawa i nalo ai. A pau ka pule ana a ua Makaula nei, kena koke ae ana o Aiwohikupua i kona Kuhina, "E haawi na makana a ka Makaula na na Akua." Lele koke aku la ka Makaula a hopu i na wawae o ke Alii, a kau iho la iluna o ka a-i, a uwe iho la; a o Aiwohikupua hoi, apo aku la ma na poohiwi o kana kauwa, a uwe helu iho la. A pau ka uwe ana, ninau iho la ke Alii i kana kauwa, " Heaha kou mea i hiki mai ai a noho ianei; a pehea ka loihi o kou hele ana." Hai aku la ke kauwa e like me ka kakou heluhelu ana ma na Mokuna mua. Ia manawa a ka Makaula i olelo aku ai i ke Alii i na kumu a me na kuleana o kona hele ana, a pau ia. Alaila, na ka Makaula ka ninau hope ia Aiwohikupua; aka hoi, ma ka paewaewa o ka ke Alii olelo ana, me ka olelo aku, e huakai kaapuni kana. Walea iho la ke Alii me ka Makaula ia po a wanaao, hoo makaukau na waa, a holo aku la. Holo aku la lakou mai Laupahoehoe aku a hiki lakou i waho o Makahanaloa, nana aku la ua wahi kanaka nei (ka mea i kapaia he Kuhina), i ka pio mai a ke anuenue iuka o Paliuli. Olelo aku la oia i ke Alii, "E! auhea oe? E nana oe i kela anuenue e pio mai la, aia ilaila o Laieikawai, ka mea a kaua e kii nei, a malaila no kahi i loaa ai ia'u." Olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua, "Ke manao nei wau aole kela o Laieikawai, aole no nona kela anuenue, no ka mea, he mea mau no ia no na wahi ua a pau, he pio no ke anuenue. Nolaila, ke noi aku nei wau ia oe, e kali kaua a ike ia mai ka malie ana, a ikeia aku ka pio mai o ke anuenue iloko o ka manawa malie, alaila maopopo nona kela hoailona." A ma keia olelo a ke Alii, hekau iho la na waa o lakou i ke kai, pii aku la o Aiwohikupua me kona Kuhina a hiki i Kukululaumania, ma ke kauhale o na kamaaina, a noho iho la malaila e kali ana no ka malie o ka ua. A hala na la eha malaila, haalele loa ka malie o Hilo, ike maopopoia aku la ke kalae ana mai o ka aina, a waiho wale mai o Panaewa. I ka eha o ka la, i ke kakahiaka nui, ala ae la o Aiwohikupua, a puka aku la mawaho o ka hale, aia hoi, e pio mai ana no ke anuenue i kahi a laua i ike mua ai, kakali, loihi iho la ke Alii a hiki i ka puka ana o ka la, hoi aku la a kona Kuhina aia kela e hiamoe ana, hooala aku la, me ka i aku i ke Kuhina, "E! pono io paha kau e olelo nei, ia'u no kakahiaka poeleele, ala e aku nei no wau iwaho, ike aku nei no au, e pio mai ana ke anuenue i kahi no au i kuhikuhi ai ia'u, i ke kali mai la no wau a puka ka la, aia no ke mau la ke anuenue, hoi mai la wau hoala aku nei ia oe." Olelo aku la ua wahi kanaka nei, "O ka'u ia e olelo aku ana ia oe, e holo kakou, i na paha aia kakou i uka o Paliuli kahi i noho ai i keia mau la." Ia kakahiaka, haalele lakou ia Makahanaloa, holo waho na waa o lakou, o Keaau ke awa. Ia holo ana o lakou a ahiahi, pae lakou i Keaau, nana aku la lakou e ku mai ana no na hale o Kauakahialii ma, e heenalu mai ana no hoi na kamaaina; a hiki lakou, mahalo mai la na kamaaina no Aiwohikupua e like me kona ano mau. Noho malihini iho la lakou ia Keaau, a ahiahi, kauoha mua iho la o Aiwohikupua i na hookele a me na hoewaa, e noho malie a hoi mai laua mai ka laua huakai imi wahine mai, oiai o lakou wale no. I ka napoo ana o ka la, hopu aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona aahu Ahuula, a haawi aku la i kahi kanaka, a pii aku la. Pii aku la laua iloko o na ululaau loloa, i ka hihia paa o ka nahelehele, me ka luhi, a hiki laua ma kahi e kokoke ana i Paliuli, lohe laua i ka leo o ka moa. I aku la kahi kanaka i ke Alii, "Kokoke puka kaua." Hoomau aku la no laua i ka pii a lohe hou laua i ka leo o ka moa (o ka moa kualua ia). Hoomau aku laua i ka pii a hiki i ka malamalama loa ana. I aku la kahi kanaka i ke Alii, "E! puka kaua, aia ke kupunawahine o Laieikawai ke houluulu mai la i na moa, e like me kana hana mau." Ninau aku la o Aiwohikupua, "Auhea ka hale o ke Alii Wahine?" I aku la kahi kanaka, "Aia a puka lea aku kaua iwaho o ka mahinaai nei la, alaila, ike maopopo leaia aku ka hale." A maopopo ia Aiwohikupua, ke kokoke hiki o laua i ka hale o Laieikawai, nonoi aku la oia e haawi mai kahi kanaka i ka ahuula, i paa iho ai o Aiwohikupua ia mea ma kona lima, a hiki i ko laua launa ana me ke Alii wahine o Paliuli. A hala ka mahinaai, ike aku la laua i ka hale o Laieikawai, ua uhiia me no hulu melemele o ka Oo, e like me ka alelo a ke akua i ka Makaula, ma ka hihio iluna o Kauwiki. Ia Aiwohikupua e nana ana i ka hale o ke Alii wahine o Paliuli, he mea e ke kahaha a me ka hilahila, ia manawa ka hoomaka ana o ko Aiwohikupua kanalua ana. A no ke kanalua i loaa ia Aiwohikupua, olelo aku oia i kona kokoolua, "Auhea oe, ua hele mai nei kaua me ka manao ikaika no kuu wahine, kuhi iho nei wau, he wahine a lohe mai i ke ao, aole ka! i ike aku nei ka hana i ka hale o ke Alii Wahine, aole no ona lua, nolaila, ano e hoi kaua me ka launa ole." I mai la kona Kuhina, "He mea kupanaha, a hiki ka hoi kaua i ka hale o ko wahine, ka kaua mea i au mai nei i keia mau kai ewalua, eia ka hoi he koi kau e hoi; e hele no kaua a launa, aia mai ilaila ka nele a me ka loaa; no ka mea, ina no paha ia e hoole mai, hoomano aku no, ua akaka no he waa naha i kooka ko kaua, ko ke kane." "Auhea oe?" Wahi a Aiwohikupua, "Aole e hiki ia kaua ke hele e halawai me ke Alii wahine, a aole no hoi e Ioaa; no ka mea, ke ike nei wau, ua ano e loa ka hale. Ua lawe mai nei au i ko'u ahuula, i makana e haawi aku ai i ke Alii wahine e Paliuli nei; aka, ke nana aku nei wau o ke pili iho la ia o ka hale o ke Alii; no ka mea, ua ike no oe, o keia mea, he ahuula aole ia e loaa i na mea e ae, i na Alii aimoku wale no e loaa'i, nolaila, e hoi kaua." O ka hoi iho la no ia me ka launa ole. MOKUNA VII Ia Aiwohikupua ma i haalele ai ia Paliuli, hoi aku la laua a hiki i Keaau, hoomakaukau na waa, a ma ia wanaao, kau maluna o na waa, a hoi i Kauai. Ma ia hoi ana, aole nae i hai aku o Aiwohikupua i kekahi kumu o ka hoi ana, aia i ka hiki ana i Kauai, ma keia hoi ana, akahi no a ike kona Kuhina i ke kumu. Ma keia holo ana mai Keaau mai, a kau i Kamaee, ma Hilopaliku, a ma kekahi la ae, haalele lakou ia laila, hiki lakou i Humuula, ma ka palena o Hilo, me Hamakua, ia manawa ka ike ana mai a ka Makaula ia Aiwohikupua e holo ana i ka moana. A hala hope o Humuula ia lakou, hiki lakou mawaho pono o Kealakaha, ike mai la lakou nei i keia wahine e noho ana i ka pali kahakai, e hiamoe ana nae ke Alii ia manawa. Ia lakou i ike aku ai i kela wahine, hooho ana lakou iluna o na waa, "E! ka wahine maikai hoi!" A no keia, hikilele ae la ka hiamoe o Aiwohikupua, ninau ae la i ka lakou mea e walaau nei, haiia aku la, "He wahine maikai aia ke noho mai la i ka pali." Alawa ae la ke Alii, a ike aku la he mea e o ka wahine maikai. A no keia mea, kauoha ae la ke Alii i na hoewaa e hoe pololei aku ma kahi a ka wahine e noho mai ana, a holo aku la a kokoke, halawai mua iho la lakou me ke kanaka e paeaea ana, ninau aku la, "Owai kela wahine e noho mai la iluna o ka pali maluna pono ou?" Haiia mai la, "O Poliahu." A no ka manao nui o ke Alii e ike i kela wahine, peahiia aku la, a iho koke mai la kela me kona aahukapa i hoopuniia i ka hau, a haawi mai la i kona aloha ia Aiwohikupua, a aloha aku la no hoi ke Alii kane i kona aloha ma ka lululima ana. Ia laua e halawai malihini ana, i aku o Aiwohikupua "E Poliahu e! E ka wahine maikai o ka pali, pomaikai wale wau ia oe ma ko kaua halawai ana iho nei, a no aila, e ke Alii wahine o ka pali nei, ke makemake nei wau e lawe oe ia'u i kane hoao nau, a e noho kanaka lawelawe aku malalo ou, ma kau mau olelo e olelo ai, a malaile wale no wau. Ina hoi e ae oe e lawe ia'u e like me ka'u e noi aku nei ia oe, alaila, e kau kaua maluna o na waa, a holo aku i Kauai, a pehea ia?" I mai la ka wahine, "Aole wau he wahine no keia pali, no uka lilo mai wau, mai ka piko mai o kela mauna, e aahu mau ana i na kapa keokeo e like me keia kapa a'u e aahu aku nei. A pehea la i hikiwawe ai ka loaa ana o ko'u inoa ia oe e ke Alii?" Olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua, "Akahi no wau a maopopo no Maunakea mai oe, a ua loaa koke kou inoa ia makou ma ka haiia ana e kela kanaka paeaea." "A no kau noi e ke Alii," wahi a Poliahu, "E lawe wau ia oe i kane na'u, a nolaila, ke hai aku nei wau ia oe, me ka ninau aku; aole anei o oe ke Alii i ku iluna a hoohiki ma ka inoa o kou mau Akua, aole oe e lawe i hookahi wahine o keia mau mokupuni, mai Hawaii nei, a Kauai; aia kau wahine lawe noloko mai o Moaulanuiakea? Aole anei oe i hoopalau me Hinaikamalama, ke kaikamahine Alii kaulana o Hana? A pau ko huakai kaapuni ia Hawaii nei, alaila, hoi aku a hoao olua? A no kau noi mai e lawe kaua ia kaua i mau mea hoohui nolaila, ke hai aku nei wau ia oe; aia a hoopau oe i kau hoohiki mua, alaila, aole na'u e lawe ia oe, nau no e lawe ia'u a hui kaua e like me kou makemake." A no keia olelo a Poliahu, pili pu iho la ko Aiwohikupua manao me ke kaumaha no hoi; a liuliu hoopuka aku la o Aiwohikupua i wahi ninau pokole penei, "Pehea la oe i ike ai, a i lohe ai hoi no ka'u mau hana au e hai mai nei? He oiaio, e Poliahu e, o na mea a pau au e olelo mai nei, ua hana wau e like me ia nolaila, e hai mai i ka mea nana i olelo aku ia oe." "Aole o'u mea nana i hai mai i keia mau mea, e ke Alii kane, no'u iho no ko'u ike," wahi a ke Alii wahine, "no ka mea, ua hanau kupuaia mai wau e like me oe, a ua loaa no ia'u ka ike mai ke Akua mai o ko'u mau kupuna a hooili ia'u, e like me oe, a na ia Akua wau i kuhikuhi mai e like me ka'u e olelo nei ia oukou. Ia oukou no e holo mai ana i Humuula, ua ike wau nou na waa, a pela wau i ike ai ia oe." A no keia olelo, kukuli iho la o Aiwohikupua, a hoomaikai aku la imua o Poliahu, me ke noi aku e lilo ia i kane hoopalau na Poliahu, me ke noi aku e holo pu i Kauai. "Aole kaua e holo pu i Kauai," wahi a ka wahine, "aka, e kau wau me oukou a Kohala, hoi mai wau, alaila hoi oukou." Mai ka hoomaka ana e halawai na'lii a hiki i ka pau ana o na olelo a laua, iluna no o na waa keia mau kamailio ana. Mamua o ka holo ana, olelo aku ka wahine ia Aiwohikupua, "Ke holo pu nei kakou, e hookaawale mai ko'u wahi, kaawale aku ko olua wahi, aole o na kanaka, ua akaka ko lakou wahi, mai hoopa mai oukou ia'u, aole hoi au e hoopa ia oukou a hiki wale i Kohala, e noho maluhia loa kakou a pau." A ua maikai ia mea imua o lakou. Ia holo ana o lakou a hiki i Kohala, aole i hanaia kekahi mea iho iwaena o lakou. Ia lakou ma Kohala, a hiki i ka la i haalele ai o Aiwohikupua ma ia Kohala, lawe ae la o Poliahu i kona kapa hau, a haawi aku la ia Aiwohikupua me ka olelo aku, "O kuu kapa hau, he kapa i papa loaia e ko'u mau makua, aole e lilo i kekahi mea e ae, ia'u wale iho no; aka, no ko kaua lawe ana ia kaua i kane hoao oe na'u, a pela hoi wau ia oe, nolaila, ke haawi lilo aku nei wau i keia kapa, a hiki i kou la e manao mai ai ia'u ma na hoohiki a kaua, alaila, loaa kou kuleana e imi ae ai ia'u a loaa, iluna o Maunakea, alaila, hoike ae oe ia'u, alaila, hui kino kaua." A lohe o Aiwohikupua i keia mau mea, alaila, he mea olioli nui loa ia i ko ke Alii kane naau, a me kona Kuhina, a me na kanaka hoewaa. Ia manawa, kii aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona Ahuula, lawe mai la a hoouhi aku la ia Poliahu, me ka olelo aku, "E like me kau olelo ia'u mamua o kou haawi ana mai ia'u i ke kapa hau, pela no oe e malama ai a hiki i ko kaua hui ana e like me ke kauoha." A pau ka laua kamailio ana i ka wanaao, hookaawale lakou i ka wahine noho mauna, a holo aku la a hiki i Hana, a halawai me Hinaikamalama. MOKUNA VIII A hiki o Aiwohikupua ma i Hana, mai Kohala aku mahope iho o ko lakou hookaawale ana ia Poliahu, ma ke awa pae waa o Haneoo ko lakou hiki mua ana, ma ko Hinaikamalama wahi e noho ana. Ia Aiwohikupua nae i hiki aku ai ma kela awa pae waa, i ka moana no lakou i lana aku ai; a ia lakou e lana ana malaila, ike mai la o Hinaikamalama, o Aiwohikupua keia mau waa, mahamaha mai la ka wahine me ka manao e hele aku ana a halawai me ka wahine; aka, aia no lakou ke lana malie mai la i ka moana. Hele mai o Hinaikamalama a ma kahi a Aiwohikupua ma e lana ana; I aku la ka wahine, "He mea kupanaha! heaha iho nei hoi keia o ka lana ana o na waa iloko o ke kai? Mahamaha mai nei keia i ka ike ana mai nei ia oukou, kainoa la hoi he holo mai a pae ae, aole ka! Nolaila, ke ninau aku nei wau ia oe; malaila no anei oukou e lana ai a holo aku?" "Ae," wahi a Aiwohikupua. "Aole oukou e hiki," wahi a ka wahine "no ka mea, e kauoha no wau i ka Ilamuku e hoopaa ia oe, ua lilo oe ia'u i ke konaneia, a ke waiho nei no ia hoohiki a kaua, a ua noho maluhia wau me ka malu loa a hiki i kou hoi ana mai la." "E ke Alii Wahine, aole pela," wahi a Aiwohikupua, "aole au i hoopau i ka kaua hoohiki, ke mau nei no ia, aole no i hiki i ka manawa e hookoia ai ia hoohiki a kaua, no ka mea, ua hai mua aku wau ia oe, aia a puni o Hawaii ia'u, alaila, hookoia kou kumu pili e ke Alii wahine. Nolaila, holo aku nei wau me ka manao e puni o Hawaii, aole nae i puni, a Hilo no, loaa ae nei i ka uhai mai Kauai mai no ka pilikia o ko ka hale poe, nolaila, hoi mai nei; i kipa mai nei i ou la e hai aku no keia mau mea ia oe, a nolaila, e noho malu oe a hiki i kuu hoi hou ana mai, hookoia ka hoohiki." A no keia olelo a Aiwohikupua, hoi mai la ka manao o ke Alii wahine, a like me mamua. A pau keia mau mea, haalele lakou ia Hana, a holo mai lakou a hiki i Oahu nei, a mai anei aku a like a like o ka moana o Oahu nei, a me Kauai, hai aku la oia i kana olelo i na hoewaa, a me na hookele, penei: "Auhea oukou, ke hai aku nei wau i kuu olelo paa; ina i hiki kakou i Kauai, mai olelo oukou i Hawaii aku nei kakou i ka imi wahine, o lilo auanei ia i mea hoohilahila ia'u, i na e loheia ma keia hope aku, alaila, i loheia no ia oukou, a o ka uku o ka mea nana e hai keia olelo no ka holo ana i Hawaii, o ka makemake ka mea nana e olelo, make mai kana wahine, o ka ohi no ia o ka make a ka mea hoaikane mai." Oia ke kanawai paa a ke Alii i kau ai no ka poe i holo pu me ia i Hawaii. A hiki lakou i Kauai, ma ka napoo ana o ka la, a halawai me na kaikuahine. Ia manawa ka hoopuka ana i olelo i kona mau kaikuahine, penei: "Ia'u i hele aku nei i ka'u huakai hele, ua haohao paha oukou, no ka mea, aole wau i hai aku ia oukou i ke kumu o ia hele ana, aole no hoi wau i hai aku i ka'u wahi e hele ai; a nolaila, ke hai malu aku nei wau ia oukou e o'u mau kaikuahine o kakou wale. I Hawaii aku nei makou i nalo iho nei, i kii aku nei wau ia Laieikawai i wahine mare (hoao) na'u, no ko'u lohe ana no ia Kauakahialii e olelo ana i ka la a lakou i hiki mai ai. I ka hele ana aku nei hoi, aole no hoi i kanamai a ke ano-e o ka wahine; aole nae au i ike aku ia Laieikawai; aka, o ka hale ka'u i ike maka aku, ua uhiia mai i ka hulu melemele o na manu Oo; nolaila, manao no au aole e loaa, hoi okoa mai nei me ka nele. A no ia manao o'u, aole e loaa ia'u, manao ae au ia oukou e na kaikuahine, ka poe no e loaa ai ko'u makemake i na la i hala, nolaila, kii mai nei au ia oukou e holo i Hawaii, o oukou no ka poe e loaa ai ko'u makemake, a ma keia wanaao, e ku kakou a e hele." Alaila, he mea maikai keia olelo a ko lakou kaikunane ia lakou. Iloko o keia manawa a Aiwohikupua e olelo ana me na kaikuahine, akahi no a maopopo i kona Kuhina, oia ka ke kumu o ka hoi wikiwiki ana ia Kauai. I kekahi la ae, wae ae la o Aiwohikupua i mau hoewaa hou, no ka mea, ua maopopo i ke Alii ua luhi na hoewaa mua; a makaukau ka holo ana, ia po iho, lawe ae la ke Alii he umikumamaha hoewaa, elua hookele, o na kaikuahine elima, o Mailehaiwale, o Mailekaluhea, o Mailelaulii, o Mailepakaha, a me ko lakou muli loa o Kahalaomapuana, o ke Alii a me kona Kuhina, he iwakalua-kumakolu ko lakou nui. I ka wanaao oia po, haalele lakou ia Kauai, hiki ma Puuloa, a mailaila aku a kau ma Hanauma, i kekahi la ae kau i Molokai, ma Kaunakakai; mailaila aku a pae i Mala, ma Lahaina; a haalele lakou ia wahi, hiki lakou i Keoneoio, ma Honuaula; a malaila i noho loihi ai ekolu anahulu. No ka mea, ua nui ka ino ma ka moana, a pau na la ino, alaila, ua ikeia mai ka maikai o ka moana. Ia manawa ko lakou haalele ana ia Honuaula, a holo aku la a hiki ma Kaelehuluhulu, ma Kona, Hawaii. Ia Aiwohikupua ma i holo aku ai mai Maui aku a hiki i kela wahi, ua ike mua mai o Poliahu i ko lakou holo ana a me ka hiki ana i Kaelehuluhulu. Nolaila, hoomakaukau mua o Poliahu ia ia no ka hiki aku o Aiwohikupua, alaila hoao; hookahi malama ke kali ano o Poliahu no ko laua hoao e like me ka laua hoohiki ana; aka, ua hala o Aiwohikupua ma Hilo, no ke kii no ia Laieikawai. I kekahi manawa, ku mai ia Poliahu ka ike no ka Aiwohikupua mau hana; ma ko Poliahu ano kupua keia ike ana, a no ia mea, waiho wale no iloko o ka wahine kona manao, aia a halawai laua, alaila, hoike aku i kana mea e ike nei no ka Aiwohikupua mau hana. Ma keia holo ana a Aiwohikupua, mai Kaelehuluhulu aku, hiki mua lakou ma Keaau, aka, ua nui no na la, a me na po o keia hele ana. I ke awakea o kekahi la, hiki aku lakou ma Keaau, a pau na waa i ka hooponopono, a me na ukana o lakou, ia wa no, hoolale koke ae ana ke Alii i na kaikuahine, a me kona Kuhina e pii i uka o Paliuli; a ua hooholo koke lakou ia manao o ke Alii. Mamua o ko lakou pii ana i Paliuli, kauoha iho la o Aiwohikupua i na hookele, a me na hoewaa, "Eia makou ke hele nei i ka makou huakai hele, ka mea hoi a kuu manao i kau nui ai a halawai maka, e noho malie loa oukou, aia no ka oukou mea malama o na waa; i kali oukou a i ao keia po, a i po ka la apopo, alaila, ua waiwai makou; aka, i hoi kakahiaka mai makou i ka la apopo, alaila, ua nele no ka'u mea i manao ai, alaila, o Kauai ke alo, huli aku hoi." Oia ke kauoha a ke Alii. A pau ke kauoha a ke Alii i na kanaka, pii aku la a like a like o ka po, hiki lakou i Paliuli. Olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua i na kaikuahine, "O Paliuli keia, eia ianei o Laieikawai, ko oukou kaikoeke, nolaila, imiia ka oukou pono." Alaila, lawe ae la o Aiwohikupua ia Mailehaiwale, i ka hanau mua o lakou e like me ko lakou hanau ana. Ku iho la ma ka puka ponoi o ka hale o Laieikawai, ia Mailehaiwale e ku la ma ka puka o ka Halealii, kuu aku ana keia i ke ala, po oloko i ke ala, aia nae o Laieikawai me kona kahu ua pauhiaia e ka hiamoe nui; aka, aole nae e hiki ke hiamoe i kela manawa, no ka mea ua hoalaia e ke ala o Mailehaiwale. Ia puoho ana ae o laua mai ka hiamoe, haohao ana laua nei i keia ala launa ole; a no keia haohao, kahea aku la o Laieikawai me ka leo oluolu i kona kupunawahine penei: LAIEIKAWAI: "E Waka, e Waka--e." WAKA: "E-o, heaha kau o ka po e ala nei?" LAIEIKAWAI: "He ala, eia--la, he ala e wale no keia, he ala anuanu, he ala huihui, eia la i ka houpo i ka manawa o maua." WAKA: "Aole no he ala e, o Mailehaiwale aku la na, o na kaikuahine aala o Aiwohikupua i kii mai la ia oe i wahine oe, a i wahine oe, a i kane ia; o ke kane ia moeia." LAIEIKAWAI: "Ka! aole au e moe ia ia." A lohe aku la o Aiwohikupua i ka hoole ana mai a Laieikawai, no ka makemake ole e lawe ia Aiwohikupua i kane mare, alaila, he mea e ka hilahila, no ka mea, ua lohe maopopo aku la lakou nei i ka hoole ana mai. MOKUNA IX Mahope iho o ka manawa i hooleia ai ko ke Alii kane makemake; alaila, olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona Kuhina, "E hoi kaua, a e noho na kaikuahine o'u iuka nei, a na lakou no e imi ae ko lakou wahi e noho ai, no ka mea, aole a lakou waiwai, ua nele ae la no ka mea i manaoia ai e loaa ia lakou." I mai la kona Kuhina, "He mea kupanaha loa ia oe, kainoa, ua olelo oe ia'u mamua o ko kakou la i haalele ai ia Kauai; o na kaikuahine wale no ou ka mea nana e kii kou makemake, a ua ike no hoi oe i ke ko ana o ka lakou mau hana; ua kena ae nei oe ia Mailehaiwale i kana loaa, a ua lohe aku la no hoi kakou i ka hoole ana mai a Laieikawai, aole paha no ko kaikuahine ia hewa, e hiki ai ia kaua ke haalele ia lakou. Nolaila, hele ae la ia ia, eha ou mau kaikuahine i koe, malia paha o loaa i kekahi o lakou." I aku la o Aiwohikupua, "Nele ae la ka i ka hanau mua, okiloa aku paha lakou." I hou aku kona Kuhina, "E kuu Haku, e hoomanawanui hou kaua, e hoao ae o Mailekaluhea i kana loaa, a i nele, alaila, hoi kakou." Alaila, ua maikai iki ia olelo i ke Alii, olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua, "E hoao aku hoi oe i kau loaa, a i nele oia iho la no." Hele aku la o Mailekaluhea, a ma ka puka o ka Halealii, ku iho la, kuu aku la i ke ala, oia hele no o ke ala a pa i kaupoku maloko o ka hale, mai kaupoku ka hoi ana iho loaa ia Laieikawai ma, ia manawa, hikilele hou ae laua mai ka hiamoe ae. I aku la o Laieikawai i kahi kahu, "He ala okoa hoi keia, aole hoi e like me ke ala mua iho nei, he oi nae hoi keia mamua o kela iho nei, he kane paha ka mea nona, keia ala." Olelo aku kahi kahu, "Kaheaia ko kupunawahine, e hai mai i ke ano o keia ala." Kahea aku la o Laieikawai. LAIEIKAWAI: "E Waka, e Waka--e." WAKA: "E--o, heaha kau o ka po e ala nei?" LAIEIKAWAI: "Eia la he ala, he ala e wale no keia, he ala anuanu, he ala huihui, eia la i ka houpo i ka manawa o maua." WAKA: "Aole na he ala e, o Mailekaluhea aku la, o kekahi kaikuahine aala o Aiwohikupua, i kii mai la ia oe i wahine oe i kane ia, o ke kane ia moeia." LAIEIKAWAI: "Ka! aole au e moe ia ia." I aku la o Aiwohikupua i ua wahi Kuhina nei ona, "E! ke lohe pono aku la oe i ka hoole ana ae la a ke Alii wahine." "Ae, ua loke, heaha la auanei ko ia hoole ana ae la, o ko laua aala no kai makemake oleia ae la, malia hoi o ae ia Mailelaulii." "Hoopaa no hoi oe," wahi a Aiwohikupua, "kainoa ua hai mua iho nei wau ia oe i ko'u manao e hoi kakou, eia kau he hoololohe, hoololohe iho la oe la, aeia mai la." "Aole ka hoi i pau na kaikuahine o kaua, alua i hala, ekolu i koe," wahi a kona Kuhina, "kuuia aku paha i pau, he nani ia, ua pau na kaikuahine o kaua i ke kii, wikiwiki auanei hoi paha oe e hoi, a hiki kakou i kai o Keaau, olelo kakou no ka loaa ole, e olelo ae auanei ka poe kaikuahine ou i koe; ina no ia makou ka olelo ana mai e kii, ina no ua ae mai o Laieikawai, aia la, loaa ka lakou mea e kamailio ai, kuuia aku i pau." "Auhea oe e kuu Kuhina," wahi a Aiwohikupua, "aole o oe ke hilahila ana, owau no, ina e like ana ka manao o ka moopuna me ko Waka la, ina ua pono." "Kuuia aku paha i ka hilahila," wahi a kona Kuhina, "kainoa ua ike no oe, he waa naha i kooka ko kaua ko ke kane, a hoole mai aunei ia nawai e olelo kana hoole ana, kainoa o kakou wale no kai lohe, hoaoia'ku paha o Mailelaulii." A no ka ikaika loa o ua wahi Kuhina nei ona i ke koi, hooholo ke Alii i ka ae. Hele aku la o Mailelaulii a kupono i ka puka o ka Halealii, kuu aku ana oia i kona aala e like me na mea mua, hikilele hou mai la o Laieikawai mai ka hiamoe, a olelo aku la i kahi kahu, "He wahi ala okoa wale no hoi keia, aole hoi e like me kela mau mea mua." I mai la kahi kahu, "Kaheaia o Waka." LAIEIKAWAI: "E Waka, e Waka--e." WAKA: "E--o, heaha la kau o ka po e ala nei?" LAIEIKAWAI: "Eia la he ala, he ala e wale no keia, he ala anuanu, he ala huihui, eia la i ka houpo i ka manawa o maua." WAKA: "Aole na he ala e, o Mailelaulii aku la na o na kaikuahine aala o Aiwohikupua, i kii mai la ia oe i wahine oe i kane ia, o ke kane ia moeia." LAIEIKAWAI: "Ka! aole au e moe ia ia." "I hookahi no hoi hoole ana o ka pono," wahi a Aiwohikupua, "o ka hele ka ia he kauna wale ae no koe o ka hoole, makena no hoi ua hilahila ia oe e ke hoa." "Kuuia aku paha i ka hilahila," wahi a kona Kuhina, "a i ole e loaa i na kaikuahine o kaua, alaila, na'u e kii a loaa iloko o ka hale, a olelo aku wau e lawe ia oe i kane hoao nana e like me kou makemake." A no keia olelo a kona Kuhina, alaila, ua hoopihaia ko ke Alii naau i ka olioli, no ka mea, ua lohe kela ia Kauakahialii i ka loaa ana i ua wahi kanaka nei o Laieikawai, i hiki ai i kai o Keaau. Ia manawa, kena koke ae la o Aiwohikupua ia Mailepakaha, hele aku la a ku ma ka puka o ka Halealii; kuu aku la i kona aala, a hikilele mai la ko Laieikawai hiamoe, honi hou ana no i ke ala. I hou aku keia i kahi kahu, "Eia hou no keia ala, he wahi ala nohea hoi keia." Olelo hou aku kahi kahu, "Kaheaia o Waka." LAIEIKAWAI: "E Waka, e Waka--e." WAKA: "E--o, heaha kau o ka po e ala nei?" LAIEIKAWAI: "Eia la he ala, he ala okoa hoi keia, aole hoi i like me na ala mua iho nei, he ala maikai keia, he ala nohea, eia la i ka houpo i ka manawa o maua." WAKA: "Aole na he ala e, o Mailepakaha aku la o ke kaikuahine aala o Aiwohikupua, i kii mai la ia oe i wahine oe i kane ia, o ke kane ia moeia." LAIEIKAWAI: "Ka! aole au e moe ia ia, ina i kii mai kekahi mea e ia'u, aole no wau e ae ana! Mai hoomoe hou oe ia'u ia Aiwohikupua." A lohe o Aiwohikupua, a me kona Kuhina i keia hoole hou ana o Laieikawai, i aku ua Kuhina nei ona, "E kuu Haku, pale ka pono! aohe pono i koe, hookahi no pono o ka hoi wale no koe o kakou; kaukai aku nei hoi ka pono i ko kaikuahine muli la hoi, i ole ae hoi ia lakou, ia'u aku la hoi, i lohe aku nei ka hana, e hoole loa ae ana no kela, me ka nuku maoli ae la no i ke kupunawahine; a eia nae hoi ka'u wahi olelo i koe ia oe, o ka olelo no auanei ka'u, o ka ae no kau." "Oleloia ana," wahi a Aiwohikupua, "a i ike aku au he kupono i ka ae, alaila ae aku, i na he kupono ole, aole no au e ae aku." "E kii kaua ma o ke kupunawahine la," wahi a ua Kuhina nei, "e noi aku ia ia, malia o ae mai kela." Olelo aku o Aiwohikupua, "Aole a kakou hana i koe, ua pau, eia wale no ka olelo i koe, o na kaikuahine o kaua, e noho lakou i ka nahelehele nei, no ka mea, aohe a lakou waiwai." Alaila, huli aku la o Aiwohikupua a olelo aku la i na kaikuahine, "E noho oukou, ua nele ae la no ka'u mea i makemake ai e lawe mai ia oukou, o ka nahele no nei noho iho." Ke hele aku nei e maamaama. A pau ka Aiwohikupua olelo ana i na kaikuahine; kulou like iho la ke poo o na kaikuahine i kahi hookahi, e uwe ana. Kaha aku la o Aiwohikupua ma iho, kahea aku la o Kahalaomapuana, ke kaikuahine muli loa, i aku la, "E laua la! ku iho, e lohe mua makou i Kauai, e lawe ana oe a haalele ia makou i keia wahi, i na aole makou e hiki mai. Pono no la hoi ia, ina owau kekahi i kii aku nei ia Laieikawai, a nele ana la hoi, alaila, pono kau haalele ana ia'u, pau pu no o ka mea i hewa, a me ka mea hewa ole. Aole oe he malihini ia'u, ia'u wale no e ko ai kau mau mea a pau." A lohe o Aiwohikupua i keia olelo a kona kaikuahine opio, hoohewa iho la oia ia ia iho. Kahea mai la o Aiwohikupua i ke kaikuahine opiopio, "Iho mai kaua, ou mau kaikuaana ke noho aku." "Aole wau e hiki aku," wahi a kona kaikuahine opiopio, "aia a pau loa makou i ka hoi pu me oe, alaila, hoi aku au." A no keia olelo a kona kaikauhine opiopio, alaila i aku o Aiwohikupua, "O noho mamuli ou mau kaikuaana, a nau no e huli ae me ko mau kaikuaana i ka oukou wahi e hele ai, eia wau ke hoi nei." Huli aku la o Aiwohikupua ma e hoi, ia laua e hele ana ma ke ala, kani aku la ke oli a Mailehaiwale, penei: "Kuu kaikunane kapu, Laniihikapu o ka manawa--e, e hoi--e; E hoi oe a ike aku I ka maka o na makua, hai aku, Eia makou ianei, E malu ana i ka hala nui, He hooumau hala paha?" Huli mai la o Aiwohikupua nana hope aku la i na kaikuahine, me ka i aku, "Aole he hala hoomau, kainoa ua hai mua iho nei no wau ia oukou, no ka oukou waiwai ole, oia kuu mea i haalele ai ia oukou, ina i loaa iho nei kuu makemake ia oukou, alaila, aole oukou e noho, oia iho la no ko oukou mea i laweia mai ai." Huli aku la no laua hoi, pau ka ike ana i na kaikuahine. A hala aku la o Aiwohikupua ma, kuka iho la na kaikuahine i ko lakou manao, a hooholo iho la lakou, e ukali mahope o ke kaikuane, me ka manao e maliu mai. Iho aku la lakou a hiki i kai o Keaau, e hoomakaukau ana na waa; noho iho la na kaikuahine ma ke awa, e kali ana no ke kaheaia mai, a pau lakou i ke kau maluna o na waa, aole nae kaheaia mai, ia lakou i hoomaka ai e holo, kani aku la ke oli a Mailekaluhea, penei: "Kuu kaikunane kapu, Laniihikapu o ka manawa, e huli mai, E nana mai i ou mau pokii, I na hoa ukali o ke ala, O ke ala nui, ala iki, O ka ua haawe kua, Me he keiki la; O ka na hookamumu hala, Hookamumu hala o Hanalei--e. Pehea makou--e, I hea no la hoi kau haalele, Haalele oe i ka hale, Hele oe i kau huakai. Ike aku--e, Ike aku i ka maka, I ka maka o na makua, Aloha wale--e." Iloko o keia oli ana a Mailekaluhea, aole nae i maliu iki mai ko lakou kaikunane, a hala aku la lakou la ma na waa, noho iho la na kaikuahine, kuka iho la i manao no lakou, hookahi mea nana i hoopuka ka lakou olelo, o Kahalaomapuana, ko lakou muli loa. Eia kana olelo, "He nani ia ua maliu ole mai la ko kakou kaikunane alii, i ka Mailehaiwale a me Mailekaluhea, i ka laua uwalo aku, e aho e hele no kakou mauka a kahi e pae ae ai lakou, alaila, na Mailelaulii e kaukau aku i ko kakou kaikuahine, malia o aloha mai ia kakou." A ua holo like ae la ia manao ia lakou. A haalele lakou ia Keaau, hiki mua na kaikuahine i Punahoa, ma kahi i kapaia o Kanoakapa, noho iho lakou malaila; hiki hope o Aiwohikupua ma. Ia Aiwohikupua ma i aneane ai e pae mai ma kahi a na kaikuahine e noho aku ana, ike mai la o Aiwohikupua e noho aku ana kona mau kaikuahine, kahea koke ae la o Aiwohikupua i na hoewaa a me na hookele, "E haalele kakou i keia awa; no ka mea, eia no ua poe uhai loloa nei, e pono kakou ke imi aku i awa e ae e pae aku ai." Ia lakou i haalele ai i kahi a na kaikuahine e noho ana, hea aku la o Mailelaulii mahope, ma ke mele, penei: "Kuu kaikunane kapu, Laniihikapu o kuu manawa--e! Heaha ka hala nui? I paweo ai na maka o kuu haku, I kapu ai ka leo i ka uwalo, Ka uwalo hoi a kou mau pokii, Kou mau pokii kaikuahine hoi, E maliu mai. E maliu mai i na hoa ukali, Na hoa pii pali o Haena, Kokolo pali o ke ala haka, Alahaka ulili o Nualolo, Pali kui--e! kui o Makana, E iala--e, hoi mai--e. Homai ka ihu i ou pokii, A hele aku i kau huakai, I ka huakai hoi a ke aloha ole--e. Aloha oe, ike aku, Ike aku i ka aina, I ka maka o na makua--e." A lohe o Aiwohikupua ma i ka leo o keia kaikuahine, lana malie iho la na waa, alaila, i aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "Pono io kakou, akahi no hea ana i lana malie ai na waa, hoolohe aku kakou o ka leo o ke kahea mai, a kau kakou maluna o na waa, alaila, palekana." A liuliu ka lakou la hoolana ana i na waa, o ka huli aku la no ia o Aiwohikupua ma e holo, aole wahi mea a maliu iki mai. A hala aku la lakou la, kuka hou iho la na kaikuahine i olelo hou na lakou. O Kahalaomapuana no ko lakou mea manao. I mai la oia i kona mau kaikuaana, "Elua maua i koe, owau a me Mailepakaha." Olelo mai hoi o Mailepakaha, "Aole no e maliu mai ia'u; no ka mea, ke maliu ole ae la ka hoi i ko kaua mau kaikuaana, oki loa aku paha wau, i ko'u manao, e aho nau e hoalohaloha'ku na kahi mea uuku o kakou, malia o maliu mai ia oe." Aole nae he ae o kahi muli loa, alaila, hoailona iho la lakou, ma ka huhuki ana i na pua mauu, o ka mea loihi o ka mauu, oia ka mea nana e hoalohaloha ko lakou kaikunane; aka, i ka hoailona ana, ku ia Kahalaomapuana ka hoailona. A pau ka lakou hana ana no keia mau mea, haalele lakou ia Punahoa, hele ukali hou mai Ia lakou ma kahi e loaa ai ko lakou kaikunane, ia hele ana, hiki lakou i Honolii, ua hiki mua o Aiwohikupua ma i Honolii, noho mai la lakou nei ma kahi kaawale, a pela no hoi o Aiwohikupua ma ma kahi kaawale. Ia lakou ma Honolii ia po, kuka iho la lakou e moe kekahi poe, a e ala hookahi, a holo ia mea ia lakou. Hoomaka ko lakou wati e like me ko lakou hanau ana, a i ko lakou kaikaina ka wati wanaao o ke ku ana. O ke kumu o ia hana ana a lakou pela, i ikeia ka manawa holo o Aiwohikupua ma; no ka mea, ua maa kona mau kaikuahine i ka holo ana mai, mai Kauai mai, ma ka wanaao e holo ai. Ku aku la na kaikuahine i ka po, a hiki i ko Mailepakaha wati e ku ana, hoomakaukau o Aiwohikupua ma i na waa no ka holo ana, hoala aku la ia i kekahi poe o lakou, a ala like mai lakou a pau. Ia lakou e okuu nui ana, o ka Kahalaomapuana wati ia, a kau lakou ma na waa, hookokoke aku la kona mau kaikuahine ma ke awa, a o Kahalaomapuana ka mea i hele loa aku a paa mahope o na waa, a kahea aku ma ke mele, penei: "Ko makou kaikunane haku, Kaikunane kapu, Laniihikapu o kuu piko--e! Auhea oe, o o--e, O oe, o makou, i o ianei hoi, Nau ka huakai, Ukali aku makou, I na pali i ka hulaana kakou, Au aku o ka Waihalau, Waihalau i Wailua--e; He aloha ole--e. He aloha ole paha kou ia makou, Na hoa ukali o ka moana, O ka ale nui, ale iki, O ka ale loa, ale poko, O ka ale kua loloa o ka moana, Hoa ukali o kela uka, O kela nahele liuliu, O ka po iu anoano, E huli mai. E huli mai, a e maliu mai, E hoolono mai ka i uwalo a'u, A'u hoi a kou pokii muli loa. Ihea la hoi kau haalele Haalele iho ia makou I kahi haiki, Nau i waele ke alanui mamua, Mahope aku makou ou, Ike'a ai he mau pokii, Ilaila la haalele aku ka huhu, Ka inaina, ka opu aloha ole, Homai ka ihu i ou mau pokii, Aloha wale--e." Ia manawa a kona kaikuahine muli loa e hapai ana i keia leo kaukau imua o Aiohikupua, alaila, ua hoomaeeleia ka naau o ko lakou kaikunane i ke aloha kaumaha no kona kaikuahine. A no ka nui loa o ke aloha o Aiwohikupua i ko lakou pokii, lalau mai la a hoonoho iho la iluna o kona uha, a uwe iho la. Ia Kahalaomapuana e kau ana i ka uha o kona kaikunane, kena ae la o Aiwohikupua i na hoewaa, i hoe ikaika; ia manawa, ua hala hope loa kekahi mau kaikuahine, a hala mua lakou la. Ia lakou e holo ana, alaila, ua pono ole ka manao o Kahalaomapuana i kona mau kaikuaana. Ia Kahalaomapuana e uwe ana no kona mau kaikuaana, ia manawa kona noi ana'ku ia Aiwohikupua, e hoihoi ia ia me kona mau kaikuaana; aka, aole no he maliu mai o Aiwohikupua. "E Aiwohikupua," wahi a kona kaikuahine, "aole wau e ae e lawe oe ia'u owau wale, ke ole oe e lawe pu me ko'u mau kaikuaana; no ka mea, ua kahea mua ae no oe ia'u i ko kakou wa i Paliuli; aka, aole wau i ae mai, no kou lawe ia'u owau wale." A no ka paakiki loa o Aiwohikupua aole e hookuu i kona kaikuahine, ia manawa, lele aku la o Kahalaomapuana mai luna aku o ka waa a haule iloko o ke kai. Ia manawa, hoopuka aku la kona kaikuahine i olelo hope, ma ke mele, penei: "Ke hoi la oe a ike aku, Ike aku i ka maka, I ka maka o na makua, Aloha aku i ka aina, I ka nui a me na makamaka, Ke hoi nei wau me o'u pokii, Me o'u kaikuaana hoi--e." MOKUNA XI Iloko o keia kaukau hope loa a Kahalaomapuana, ua hoopihaia ko Aiwohikupua naau i ke aloha nui; a kahea ae la oia e hooemi hope na waa, aka, ua hala hope loa o Kahalaomapuana i hope, no ka ikaika loa o ka holo o na waa; a i ka wa i huli hope ai na waa e kii hou i kona kaikuahine, aole nae i loaa. (Maanei e waiho iki i ke kamailio ana no Aiwohikupua, e pono ke kamailio hou no kona mau kaikuahine; alaila, e kamailio hou no Aiwohikupua.) Ia manawa a Aiwohikupua ma i haalele aku ai i na kaikuahine ma Honolii, a lawe pu aku ia Kahalaomapuana; nui loa iho la ke aloha, a me ka uwe ana no ko lakou kaikaina, ua oi aku ko lakou aloha ia Kahalaomapuana, mamua o ko lakou aloha i ko lakou mau makua, a me ka aina. Ia lakou no e uwe ana, hoea mai ana o Kahalaomapuana ma ka pali mai, alaila, ua kuuia ka naau kaumaha o kona mau kaikuaana. A hui ae la lakou me ko lakou kaikaina, a hai aku la oia i kana hana, a me ke kumu o kona hoi ana mai e like me ka mea i olelo muaia ae nei ma keia Mokuna. A pau ka lakou kamailio ana no keia mau mea, kuka iho la lakou i ka pono o ko lakou noho ana, a hooholo ae la lakou e hoi hou lakou i Paliuli. Mahope iho o ko lakou kuka ana no lakou iho, haalele lakou ia Honolii, hoi aku la a uka o Paliuli, ma kahi e kokoke aku ana i ka hale o Laieikawai, noho iho la lakou maloko o na puha laau. A no ko lakou makemake nui e ike ia Laieikawai, hoohalua mau lakou i keia la keia la, a nui na la o lakou i hoohalua ai, aole lakou i ike iki no ka lakou mea e hoohalua nei, no ka mea, ua paa mau ka puka o ka hale i na la a pau. A no ia mea, kukakuka ae la lakou i mea e ike aku ai lakou ia Laieikawai, a nui na la o ko lakou imi ana i mea e ike aku ai no ke Alii wahine o Paliuli, aole loaa. Iloko o kela mau la kuka o lakou, aole i pane iki ko lakou kaikaina, a no ia mea, olelo aku kekahi o kona mau kaikuaana, "E Kahalaomapuana, o makou wale no ia e noonoo nei i mea no kakou e ike aku ai ia Laieikawai, aole nae he loaa; malia paha, aia ia oe kekahi mea e hiki ai, e olelo ae oe." "Ae," wahi a ko lakou kaikaina, "e ho-a kakou i ahima kela po keia po, a e oli aku ka hanau mua, alaila, i ka muli iho, pela a pau kakou, i hookahi no olioli ana a ka mea hookahi ma ka po, alaila, ia'u ka po hope loa; malia paha o lilo ka a-a mau ana a ke ahi i na po a pau i mea no ke Alii e uluhua ai, alaila, hele mai e nana ia kakou, alaila, pela paha e ike ai kakou ia Laieikawai." A ma keia olelo a Kahalaomapuana, ua pono ia imua o lakou. I ka po mua, ho-a ae la lakou i ahi, a ia Mailehaiwale ke oli ana ia po, e like me ka lakou hooholo like ana. A i kekahi po mai ia Mailekaluhea, pela mau lakou i hana ai a hala no po eha, aole nae i loaa ia Laieikawai ka hoouluhuaia, ua loho no nae ke Alii wahine i ke oli, a ua ike no hoi i ka _a-a_ mau ana a ke ahi; a heaha la ia mea i ke Alii wahine. I ka lima o ka po, oia ko Kahalaomapuana po, o ka hope loa no hoi ia; ho-a iho la ke ahi, a ma ka waenakonu o ka po, hana iho la o Kahalaomapuana he pu la-i, a hookani aku la. Iloko oia manawa, akahi no a komo iloko o Laieikawai ka lealea no kela leo e kani nei, aole nae i hoouluhuaia ke Alii wahine. A ma ka pili o ke ao, hookani hou aku la o Kahalaomapuana i kana pu la-i e like me ke kani mua ana, alaila, ua lilo iho la no ia i mea lealea no ke Alii; elua wale no puhi ana a Kahalaomapuana ia po. I ka lua o ka po, hana hou no o Kahalaomapuana i kana hana; ma ka pili nae o ke ahiahi kana hoomaka ana e hookani, aole nae i uluhua ke Alii. Ma ka pili o ka wanaao oia po no, ka lua ia o ka hookani ana. Ia manawa, ua hoouluhuaia ko Laieikawai manawa hiamoe; a o ka oi no hoi keia o ka po lealea loa o ke Alii. A no ka uluhua o Laieikawai, kena ae la oia i kona wahi kahu e hele e nana i kahi i kani mai ai keia mea kani. Ia manawa, puka ae la ua wahi kahu nei o ke Alii iwaho o ka Halealii, a ike aku la i ke ahi a ua poe kaikamahine nei e aa mai ana, hookolo aku la oia a hiki i kahi o ke ahi e a ana, ma ke kaawale nae keia kahi i ku aku ai me ka ike ole mai a lakou la ia ianei. A ike keia, hoi aku la a ia Laieikawai, ninau mai la ke Alii. Hai aku la kahi kahu i kana mea i ike ai, mamuli o ka ninau a ke Alii, "Ia'u i puka aku ai mai ka hale aku nei, ike aku la wau he ahi e aa mai ana, hele aku nei wau a hiki, a ma ke kaawale ko'u ku ana aku, me ka ike ole mai o lakou la ia'u. Aia hoi, ike aku la wau he mau kaikamahine elima, e noho ana a puni ke ahi, he mau kaikamahine maikai wale no lakou, ua like wale no na ano, hookahi nae o lakou wahi mea uuku loa, a nana ka mea kani lealea a kaua e lohe aku nei." A lohe ke Alii i keia mea, olelo aku la oia i kona kahu, "E kii oe a kahi mea uuku o lakou, olelo aku oe e hele mai ianei, i hana mai ai oia i kana mea hoolealea imua o kaua." A no keia olelo a ke Alii, hele aku la kahi kahu a hiki i kahi o na kaikamahine, a ike mai la lakou i keia mea, hai aku la oia, "He alele wau i hoounaia mai nei e kuu Alii e kii mai i kekahi o oukou e like me ka'u mea e manao ai e lawe, nolaila, ke lawe nei wau i kahi mea uuku o oukou e hele e launa pu me kuu Alii e like me kana kauoha." A Iaweia aku la o Kahalaomapuana, alaila, ua hoohauoliia ka naau o kona mau kaikuaana, no ka manao no e loaa ana ka pomaikai mahope. A hiki aku la ua wahi kaikaina nei o lakou imua o Laieikawai. Ia ia nae i hiki aku ai a ka hale, wehe ae la ke kahu o ke Alii i ka puka o ka Halealii, ia manawa, ua hoopuiwa kokeia ko Kahalaomapuana lunamanao, no ka ike ana aku ia Laieikawai e kau mai ana iluna o ka eheu o na manu e like me kona ano mau, elua hoi mau manu Iiwipolena e kau ana ma na poohiwi o ke Alii, e lu ana i na wai ala lehua ma ke poo o ke Alii. A no ka ike ana aku o Kahalaomapuana i keia mau mea, a he mea kupanaha ia imua o ke Kaikamahine malihini, haule aku la oia i ka honua me ka naau eehia. Hele aku la ke kahu o ke Alii, a ninau aku la, "Heaha keia e ke kaikamahine?" A palua kana ninau ana, alaila, ala ae la ke kaikamahine, a olelo aku la i ke kahu o ke Alii me ka i aku, "E ae mai oe ia'u e hoi au me ou kaikuaana, ma kahi i loaa ai wau ia oe, no ka mea, ua eehia wau i ka maka'u no ke ano e loa o kau Alii." Olelo mai la ke kahu o ke Alii, "Mai maka'u oe, mai hopohopo, e ku oe a e komo aku e halawai me kuu Alii e like me kana kauoha ia oe." "He maka'u," wahi a ke kaikamahine. A lohe mai la ke Alii i ka laua haukamumu, ala ae la oia a hea aku la ia Kahalaomapuana, alaila, ua hoopauia ko ke kaikamahine naau kaumaha, a komo aku la ka malihini e launa me ke Alii. I mai la o Laieikawai, "Nau anei ka mea kani lealea i kani mai ai i kela po, a me keia po?" "Ae, na'u," wahi a Kahalaomapuana. "O i ana," wahi a Laieikawai, "hookani ia ana." Lalau ae la o Kahalaomapuana i kana pu la-i ma kona pepeiao, a hookani aku la imua o ke Alii; alaila, ua hoolealeaia o Laieikawai. Oia ka makamua o ko ke Alii ike ana i keia mea kani. MOKUNA XII A no ka lilo loa o ko Laieikawai manawa i ka olioli no ka mea kani lealea a ke kaikamahine; alaila, kena ae la o Laieikawai i ke kaikamahine e hookani hou. I aku la ke kaikamahine, "Aole e kani ke hookani hou; no ka mea ua malamalama loa, he mea mau ia, ma ka po wale no e kani ai nei mea kani, aole e pono ma ke ao." A no keia olelo a ke kaikamahine, kahaha loa iho la o Laieikawai me ka manao he wahahee na ke kaikamahine, alaila, lalau aku la o Laieikawai i ka pu la-i ma ka lima o ke kaikamahine, a hookani iho la, a no ko Laieikawai maa ole i ka hookani ka pu la-i, nolaila, ua loaa ole ke kani ma ia hookani ana, alaila, he mea maopopo loa i ke Alii wahine, he mea kani ole no ka pu la-i ke hookani ma ke ao. Olelo aku la o Laieikawai ia Kahalaomapuana, "Ke makemake nei wau e hoaikane kaua, a ma ko'u hale nei oe e noho ai, a e lilo oe i mea punahele na'u, a o kau hana ka hoolealea mai ia'u." Olelo aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "E ke Alii e, ua pono kau olelo; aka, he mea kaumaha no'u ke noho wau me oe, a e loaa ana paha ia'u ka pomaikai, a o ko'u mau kaikuaana, e lilo paha auanei lakou i mea pilikia." "Ehia oukou ka nui," wahi a Laieikawai, "a pehea ko oukou hiki ana maanei?" Olelo aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "Eono makou ko makou nui a na makua hookahi o ko makou ono, he keiki kane, a elima makou na kaikuahine, o ke keiki kane no ko makou mua, a owau ko makou muli loa. A ma ka huakai a ko makou kaikunane, oia ko makou mea i hiki ai maanei, a no ka loaa ole ana ia makou o kona makemake, nolaila, ua haalele kela ia makou, a ua hoi aku la ko makou kaikunane me kona kekoolua, a ke noho nei makou me ka makamaka ole." Ninau mai la o Laieikawai, "Nohea mai oukou?" "No Kauai mai," wahi a Kahalaomapuana. "A owai ka inoa o ko oukou kaikunane?" Hai aku la kela, "O Aiwohikupua." Ninau hou o Laieikawai, "Owai ko oukou mau inoa pakahi?" Alaila hai aku la kela ia lakou a pau. Alaila, hoomaopopo iho la o Laieikawai, o lakou no ka poe i hiki i kela po mua. I aku la o Laieikawai, "O kou mau kaikuaana a me ke kaikunane o oukou kai maopopo, ina nae o oukou kai hiki mai i kela po aku nei la; aka, o oe ka'u mea i lohe ole." "O makou no," wahi a Kahalaomapuana. I aku la o Laieikawai, "Ina o oukou kai hiki mai i kela po, alaila, nawai i alakai ia oukou ma keia wahi? No ka mea, he wahi ike oleia keia, akahi wale no poe i hele mai i keia wahi." I aku keia, "He kamaaina no ko makou mea nana i alakai mai, oia hoi kela wahi kanaka nana i olelo mai ia oe no Kauakahialii." Alaila, ua maopopo he kamaaina ko lakou. A pau ka laua kamailio ana no keia mau mea, kauoha ae la oia i kona kupunawahine, e hoomakaukau i hale no na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua. Alaila, ma ka mana o Waka, kona kupunawahine, ua hikiwawe loa, ua paa ka hale. A makaukau ka hale, kena aku la o Laieikawai ia, Kahalaomapuana, "E hoi oe, a kela po aku, pii mai oe me ou mau kaikuaana mai, i ike aku wau ia lakou, alaila, e lealea mai oe ia kakou, i kau mea kani lealea." A hala aku la o Kahalaomapuana, a hui me kona mau kaikuaana, ninau mai la nae kona mau kaikuaana i kana hana, a me ke ano o ko laua halawai ana me ke Alii. Hai aku la kela, "Ia'u i hiki aku ai a ma ka puka o ka hale o ke Alii, wehe aku la kahi kuapuu nana i kii mai nei ia'u, a i kuu ike ana aku nei i ke Alii e kau mai ana iluna o ka eheu o na manu, no ia ike ana o'u, ua eehia wau me ka maka'u a haule aku la wau ilalo ma ka lepo. A no keia mea, kiiia mai la wau a komo aku la e kamailio pu me ke Alii, a hana aku wau i kona lealea, e like me ko ke Alii makemake, a ua ninau mai nei kela ia kakou, ua hai pau aku au. Nolaila, e loaa ana ia kakou ka pomaikai, ua kauoha mai nei kela, a i keia po pii aku kakou." A lohe kona mau kaikuaana i keia mau olelo, he mea e ka olioli o lakou. A hiki i ka manawa a ke Alii i kauoha mai ai ia lakou, haalele lakou i na puha laau, kahi a lakou i noho pio ai. Hele aku la lakou a ku ma ka puka o ka Hale Alii, wehe ae la ke kahu o Laieikawai i ka puka, a ike aku la lakou e like me ka olelo a ko lakou kaikaina. Ia lakou nae i ike aku ai ia Laieikawai, alaila, ua puiwa koke lakou, a holo aku la me ka haalulu eehia, a pau loa lakou i ka haule i ka honua, koe nae o Kahalaomapuana. A ma ke kauoha a ke Alii, ua kii ia aku kele poe malihini a laweia mai la imua o ke Alii, a he mea oluolu ia i ko ke Alii manao. Ia lakou e halawai ana me ke Alii wahine, hoopuka mai la oia imua o na malihini he olelo hoopomaikai, a penei no ia: "Ua lohe wau i ko oukou kaikaina, he poe oukou no ka hanauna hookahi, a he poe koko like oukou; a nolaila, ke lawe nei au ia oukou ma ke ano o ke koko hookahi, e kiai kakou ia kakou iho, ma ka olelo a kekahi, malaila like kakou, iloko o kela pilikia keia pilikia, o kakou no kekahi ilaila. A no ia mea, ua kauoha wau e hoomakaukau ko kakou kupunawahine i hale no oukou e noho ai me ka maluhia, e like me a'u nei, aole e aeia kekahi e lawe i kane nana, me ka ae like ole o kakou; pela e pono ai kakou ma keia hope aku." A no keia olelo, hooholo ae la na kaikamahine malihini, na ko lakou kaikaina e hoopuka ka lakou olelo pane aku i ke Alii. "E ke Alii e! Pomaikai makou no kou hookipa ana ia makou, a pomaikai hoi makou, no kou lawe ana ae ia makou I mau hoahanau nou, e like me kau i olelo mai nei ia makou, a pela no makou e hoolohe ai. Hookahi nae mea a makou e hai aku ia oe, he poe kaikamahine makou i hoolaa ia e ko makou mau makua, aole he oluolu e lawe makou i kane mare, a o ka makemake o ko makou mau makua, e noho puupaa na makou a hiki i ko makou mau la hope, a nolaila, ke noi mua aku nei kau mau kauwa, mai ae oe ia makou e hoohaumia me kekahi mau kanaka, e like me ka makemake o ke Alii; nolaila, e hookuu ia makou e noho puupaa e like me ka olelo paa a ko makou mau makua." He mea maikai nae i ko ke Alii manao ka olelo a na malihini. A pau ka lakou olelo ana me ke Alii no keia mau mea, hoihoiia aku la lakou a ma ka hale i hoomakaukauia no lakou. I ua mau kaikamahine nei e noho ana ma ko lakou hale, he mea mau ia lakou ke kuka mau ma na mea e pili ana ia lakou, a me ke Alii, no ko lakou noho ana, a me na hana a ke Alii e olelo mai ai. A hooholo ae la lakou e hoolilo i ko lakou kaikaina i hoa kuka no ke Alii ma na hana e pili ana i ko lakou noho ana. I kekahi awakea, i ko ke Alii manawa ala mai ka hiamoe mai, hele aku la o Kahalaomapuana e hoolealea i ke Alii ma ka hookanikani ana i ka pu la-i, a pau ko ke Alii makemake. Ia manawa, hai aku la oia i kana olelo imua o Laieikawai, no ka lakou mea i kuka ai me kona mau kaikuaana; i aku la, "E ke Alii, ua kuka makou i mea nou e maluhia ai, nolaila, ua hooholo makou i ko makou manao, e hoolilo makou ia makou elima i mau koa kiai no kou Halealii, a ma o makou la e ae ia ai, a ma o makou la e hooleia ai. Ina i hele mai kekahi mea makemake e ike ia oe, ina he kane, a he wahine paha, a ina he alii, aole lakou e ike ia oe ke ole makou e ae aku; nolaila, ke noi aku nei au e ae mai ke Alii e like me ka makou hooholo ana." I mai la o Laieikawai, "Ke ae aku nei wau e like me ka oukou mau olelo hooholo, a o oukou no ka mana ma Paliuli nei a puni." Eia nae ka manao nui o kela poe kaikamahine e lilo i kiai no ke Alii, no ko lakou manao e puka hou ana o Aiwohikupua i Paliuli, alaila, he mana ko lakou e kipaku i ko lakou enemi. Noho iho la lakou ma Paliuli, iloko nae o ko lakou noho ana, aole lakou i ike i ko lakou luhi ma ia noho ana; aole hoi lakou i ike iki i ka mea nana e hana mai ka lakou ai. Eia wale no ko lakou manawa ike i ka lakou mau mea ai, i ka manawa makaukau o lakou e paina, ia manawa e lawe mai ai na manu i na mea ai a lakou, a na na manu no e hoihoi aku i na ukana ke pau ka lakou paina ana, a no keia mea, ua lilo o Paliuli i aina aloha loa na lakou, a malaila lakou i noho ai a hiki i ka haunaele ana ia Halaaniani. (Maanei e ka mea heluhelu e waiho i ke kamailio ana no na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua, a ma ka Mokuna XIII o keia Kaao e kamailio hou no Aiwohikupua no kona hoi ana i Kauai.) MOKUNA XIII Mahope iho o ko Kahalaomapuana lele ana iloko o ke kai mai luna iho o na waa, e holo ikaika loa ana na waa ia manawa; nolaila, ua hala hope loa o Kahalaomapuana. Hoohuli hou na waa i hope e imi ia Kahalaomapuana, aole nae i loaa; nolaila, haalele loa o Aiwohikupua i kona kaikuahine opiopio, a hoi loa aku i Kauai. Ia Aiwohikupua i hoi ai mai Hawaii mai a hiki mawaena o Oahu nei a me Kauai, olelo aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona mau hoewaa penei: "I ko kakou hoi ana anei a hiki i Kauai, mai olelo oukou, i Hawaii aku nei kakou i o Laieikawai la, o hilahila auanei au; no ka mea, he kanaka wau ua waia i ka olelo ia; a nolaila, ke hai aku nei au i ka'u olelo paa ia oukou. O ka mea nana e hai i keia hele ana o kakou, a lohe wau, alaila, o kona uku ka make, a me kona ohana a pau, pela no au i olelo ai i keia poe hoewaa mamua." Hoi aku la lakou a Kauai. I kekahi mau la, makemake iho la ke Alii, o Aiwohikupua, e hana i Ahaaina palala me na'lii, a me kona mau hoa a puni o Kauai. A i ka makaukau ana o ka Ahaaina palala a ke Alii, kauoha ae la ke Alii i kana olelo e kii aku i na hoa-ai; ma na alii kane wale no, a hookahi wale no, alii wahine i aeia e komo i ka Ahaaina palala, oia o Kailiokalauokekoa. I ka la i Ahaaina ai, akoakoa mai la na hoa-ai a pau loa, ua makaukau na mea ai, a o ka awa ko lakou mea inu ma ia Ahaaina ana. Mamua o ko lakou paina ana, lalau like na hoa i na apuawa, a inu iho la. Iloko o ko lakou manawa ai, aole i loaa ia lakou ka ona ana o ka awa. A no ka loaa ole o ka ona o ka awa, hoolale koke ae la ke Alii i kona mau mama awa e mama hou ka awa. A makaukau ko ke Alii makemake, lalau like ae la na hoa-ai o ke Alii, a me ke Alii pu i na apuawa, a inu ae la. Ma keia inu awa hope o lakou, ua loohia mai maluna o lakou ka ona awa. Aka, hookahi mea oi aku o ka ona, o ke Alii nana ka papaaina. Iloko o keia manawa ona o ke Alii, alaila, ua nalo ole ka olelopaa ana i olelo ai i kona mau hoewaa ma ka moana, aole nae i loheia ma o kana poe i papa ai; aka, ma ka waha ponoi no o Aiwohikupua i loheia'i olelo huna a ke Alii. A ona iho la o Aiwohikupua, alaila, haliu pono aku la oia ma kahi a Kauakahialii e noho mai ana, olelo aku la, "E Kauakahialii e, ia oe no e kamailio ana ia makou no Laieikawai, komo koke iho la iloko o'u ka makemake no kela wahine; nolaila, moe ino ko'u mau po e ake e ike; nolaila, holo aku nei wau a hiki i Hawaii, pii aku nei maua a malamalama, puka i uka o Paliuli, i nana aku ka hana i ka hale o ke Alii, aole i kana mai, o ko'u hilahila; no ia mea, hoi mai nei. Hoi mai nei hoi wau, a manao mai o na kaikuahine hoi ka mea e loaa'i, kii mai nei, i hele aku nei ka hana me na kaikuahine a hiki i ka hale o ke Alii, kuu aku hoi i ka na kaikuahine loaa; i hana aku ka hana, i ka hoole waleia no a pau na kaikuahine eha, koe o kahi muli loa o'u, o ko'u hilahila no ia hoi mai nei, he oi no hoi kela o ka wahine kupaa nui wale, aole i ka lua." Iloko o kela manawa a Aiwohikupua e kama ilio ana no ka paakiki o Laieikawai. Ia manawa e noho ana o Hauailiki, ke keiki puukani o Mana iloko o ka Ahaaina, he keiki kaukaualii no hoi, oia ka oi o ka maikai. Ku ae la oia iluna, a olelo aku la ia Aiwohikupua "He hawawa aku la no kau hele ana, aole wau i manao he wahine paakiki ia, ina e ku au imua o kona mau maka, aole au e olelo aku, nana no e hele wale mai a hui maua; alaila, e ike oukou e noho aku ana maua." I aku la o Aiwohikupua, "E Hauailiki e, ke makemake nei au e hele oe i Hawaii, ina e lilo mai o Laieikawai, he oi oe, a na'u no e hoouna me oe i mau kanaka, a ia'u na waa, a i nele oe ma keia hele ana au, alaila, lilo kou mau aina ia'u; a ina i hoi mai oe me Laieikawai, alaila, nou ko'u mau aina." A pau ka Aiwohikupua ma olelo ana no keia mau mea, ia po iho, kau o Hauailiki ma maluna o na waa a holo aku la; aka, ua nui no na la i hala ma ia holo ana. Ia holo ana, hiki aku lakou iwaho o Makahanaloa, i nana aku ka hana o lakou nei, e pio ana ke anuenue i kai o Keaau. Olelo aku la ke Kuhina o Aiwohikupua ia Hauailiki, "E nana oe i kela anuenue e pio mai la i kai, o Keaau no ia; a aia ilaila o Laieikawai, ua iho ae la i ka nana heenalu." I mai la o Hauailiki, "Kainoa aia o Paliuli kona wahi noho mau." A i kekahi la ae, ma ka auina la, hiki aku la lakou i Keaau, ua hoi aku nae o Laieikawai me na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua i uka o Paliuli. Ia Hauailiki ma i hiki aku ai, aia hoi ua nui na mea i hele mai e nana no keia keiki oi kelakela o ka maikai mamua o Kauakahialii a me Aiwohikupua, a he mea mahalo nui loa ia na na kamaaina o Keaau. I kekahi la ae ma ka puka ana a ka la, uhi ana ke awa a me ka noe ma Keaau a puni, a i ka mao ana'e, aia hoi ehiku mau wahine e noho ana ma ke awa pae o Keaau, a hookahi oi oia poe. Akahi wale no a iho na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua ma keia hele ana o Laieikawai, e like me kana olelo hoopomaikai. Ia Laieikawai ma e noho ana ma kela kakahiaka, ku ae la o Hauailiki a holoholo ae la imua o lakou la, e hoika ana ia ia iho ma kona ano kanaka ui, me ka manao e maliuia mai e ke Alii wahine o Paliuli. A heaha la o Hauailiki ia Laieikawai? "he opala paha." Eha na la o Laieikawai o ka hiki ana ma Keaau, mahope iho o ko Hauailiki puka ana aku; a eha no hoi la o ko Hauailiki hoike ana ia ia imua o Laieikawai, a aole nae he maliu iki ia mai. I ka lima o ka la o ko Laieikawai hiki ana ma Keaau, manao iho la o Hauailiki e hoike ia ia iho imua o kana mea e iini nui nei no kona akamai ma ka heenalu; he oiaio, o Hauailiki no ka oi ma Kauai no ke akamai i ka heenalu a oia no ka oi iloko o kona mau la, a he keiki kaulana hoi oia ma ke akamai i ka heenalu, a kaulana, no hoi no kona ui. I ua la la, i ka puka ana a ka la, aia na kamaaina ma kulana, nalu, na kane, a me na wahine. I na kamaaina e akoakoa ana ma kulana heenalu, wehe ae la o Hauailiki i kona aahu kapa, hopu iho la i kona papa heenalu (he olo), a hele aku la a ma kahi e kupono ana ia Laieikawai ma, ku iho la oia no kekahi mau minute, ia manawa nae, komo mai la iloko o na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua ka makemake no Hauailiki. I aku la o Mailehaiwale ia Laieikawai, "Ina paha aole makou i hoolaaia e ko kakou mau makua, ina ua lawe wau ia Hauailiki i kane na'u." I aku o Laieikawai, "Ua makemake no hoi wau, ina hoi aole wau i hoolaaia e ko'u kupunawahine, nolaila, he mea ole ko'u makemake." "O kaua pu," wahi a Mailehaiwale. A pau ko Hauailiki mau minute hookahakaha, lele aku la ua o Hauailiki me kona papa heenalu i ke kai, a au aku la a kulana nalu. Ia Hauailiki ma kulana nalu, kahea mai la kekahi kaikamahine kamaaina, "Pae hoi kakou." "Hee aku paha," wahi a Hauailiki, no ka mea, aole ona makemake, e hee pu oia me ka lehulehu ma ka nalu hookahi, makemake no oia e hookaokoa ia ia oia wale no ma ka nulu okoa, i kumu e ike mai ai o Laieikawai no kona akamai i ka heenalu, malia o makemake ia mai oia; aole ka! A hala aku la na kamaaina, ohu mai la he wahi nalu opuu, ia manawa ka Hauailiki hee ana i kona nalu. Ia Hauailiki e hee la i ka nalu, uwa ka pihe a na kamaaina, a me na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua: Heaha la ia ia Laieikawai? A no ka lohe ana aku o Hauailiki i keia pihe uwa, alaila, manao iho ia ua huipu me Laieikawai i keia leo uwa, aole ka! hoomau aku la oia i ka heenalu a hala elima nalu, oia mau no. Aole nae i loaa ka heahea ia mai, nolaila, hoomaka mai la ia Hauailiki ke kaumaha, me ka hooiaio iki i kela olelo a Aiwohikupua no ka "paakiki o Laieikawai." MOKUNA XIV A ike maopopo ae la o Hauailiki, aole i komo iloko o Laieikawai ka makemake ia Hauailiki ma ia mea, hoopau ae la oia i ka heenalu ma ka papa; manao ae la oia e kaha. Haalele iho la oia i kona papa, a au aku la i kulana heenalu. Ia ia e au ana, olelo ae la o Laieikawai i kona mau hoa, "E! pupule o Hauailiki." I aku la kona mau hoa, "Malia paha e kaha nalu ana." Ia Hauailiki ma kulana nalu, i ka nalu i ea mai ai a kakala ma kona kua, ia manawa kaha mai la oia i ka nalu, pii ke kai me he niho puaa la ma o a ma o o kona a i. Ia manawa, uwa ka pihe o uka, akahi no a loaa mai ia Laieikawai ka akaaka, a he mea malihini no hoi ia i kona maka a me kona mea e ae. A ike aku la o Hauailiki i ko Laieikawai akaaka ana iho, manao iho la oia, ua komo ka makemake i Laieikawai ma keia hana a Hauailiki, alaila, hoomau aku la oia ma ke kaha nalu, a hala elima nalu, aole i loaa ka hea mai a Laieikawai ia ia nei. Nolaila, he mea kaumaha loa ia ia Hauailiki, ka maliu ole mai o Laieikawai ia ia nei, a he mea hilahila nui loa hoi nona, no ka mea, ua olelo kaena mua kela ia Aiwohikupua, e like me ka kakou ike ana ma na Mokuna mamua ae. A no keia mea, lana malie iho la oia ma kulana nalu, ia ia e lana malie ana, ua kokoke mai ko Laieikawai ma manawa hoi i Paliuli. Ia manawa, peahi mai la o Laieikawai ia Hauailiki. A ike aku la o Hauailiki i ka peahi ana mai, alaila, ua hoomohalaia kona naau kanalua. I iho la o Hauailiki oia wale no, "Aole no ka hoi oe e kala i makemake ai, hoolohi wale iho no." A no ka peahi a ke Alii wahine o Paliuli, hoomoe iho la keia i ka nalu, a pae pono aku la ma kahi a Laieikawai ma e noho mai ana. Ia manawa, haawi mai la o Laieikawai i ka lei lehua, hoolei iho la ma ka a-i o Hauailiki, e like me kana hana mau i ka poe akamai i ka heenalu. A mahope iho oia manawa, he uhi ana na ka noe a me ka ohu, a i ka mao ana ae, aole o Laieikawai ma, aia aku la lakou la i Paliuli. O ka iho hope ana keia a Laieikawai ma i Keaau, iloko o ko Hauailiki mau la, aia hala aku o Hauailiki ma i Kauai, alaila, hiki hou o Laieikawai i Keaau. Ia Laieikawai ma i hala ai i uka o Paliuli, hoi aku la o Hauailiki mai ka heenalu aku, a halawai me ke Kuhina o Aiwohikupua, o kona alakai hoi. I aku la, "Kainoa o kahi paa ae nei a paa, he oiaio no ka ka Aiwohikupua e olelo nei. Nolaila, ua pau ka loaa a kuu kanaka maikai, a me kuu akamai i ka heenalu, hookahi wale no mea i koe ia kaua, o ke koele wawae no i Paliuli i neia po." A no keia olelo a Hauailiki, hooholo ae la kona hoa i ka ae. Ma ka auina la mahope o ka aina awakea, pii aku la laua iuka, komo aku la iloko o na ululaau, i ka hihia paa o ka nahele. Ia laua i pii ai, halawai mua laua me Mailehaiwale, oia ke kiai makamua o ke Alii wahine. Ike mai la oia ia laua nei e kokoke aku ana io ia nei la, i mai la, "E Hauailiki, malaila olua hoi aku, aole o olua kuleana e pii mai ai ianei; no ka mea, ua hoonohoia mai wau maanei, he kiai makamua no ke Alii, a na'u no e hookuke aku i na mea a pau i hiki mai maanei, me ke kuleana ole; nolaila, e hoi olua me ke kali ole." I aku la o Hauailiki, "E ae mai oe ia maua, e pii aku e ike i ka hale o ke Alii." I mai la o Mailehaiwale, "Aole wau e ae aku i ko olua manao; no ka mea, o ko'u kuleana no ia i hoonohoia ai ma keia wahi, e kipaku aku i ka poe hele mai iuka nei e like me olua." Aka, no ka oi aku o ko laua nei koi ana me ka olelo ikaika imua oiala, nolaila, ua ae aku la keia. Ia Hauailiki ma i hala aku ai mahope iho o ko Mailehaiwale hookuu ana aku ia laua, halawai koke aku la laua me Mailekaluhea, ka lua o ko ke Alii wahine kiai. I mai la o Mailekaluhea, "E! e hoi olua ano, aole he pono no olua e pii mai ianei, pehea la i aeia mai ai e hookuu mai ia olua?" I aku la laua, "I hele mai nei maua e ike i ke Alii wahine." "Aole olua e pono pela," wahi a Mailekaluhea, "no ka mea, ua hoonohoia mai makou he mau kiai e kipaku aku i na mea a pau i hele mai i keia wahi, nolaila, e hoi olua." Aka, ma kela olelo a Mailekaluhea, ua oi aku ka maalea o ka laua nei olelo malimali imua oiala, nolaila, ua hookuuia'ku laua. Ia laua i hala aku ai, halawai aku la laua me Mailelaulii, a e like no me ka olele a laua nei imua o na mea mua, pela no laua i hana ai imua o Mailelaulii. A no ka maalea loa o laua i na olelo malimali, nolaila, ua hookuuia laua mai ko Mailelaulii alo aku. A hala aku la laua, halawai aku la me Mailepakaha, ka ha o na kiai. Ia laua i hiki aku ai imua o Mailepakaha, aole he oluolu iki o keia kiai i ko laua hookuuia ana mai e na kiai mua; aka, no ka pakela o ka maalea ma ke kamailio ana, ua hookuuia aku la laua. A hala aku laua, aia hoi, ike aku la laua ia Kahalaomapuana, ke kiai ma ka puka o ka Halealii, e kau mai ana iluna o ka eheu o na manu, a ike aku la no hoi i ke ano e o ka Halealii, ia manawa haule aku la o Hauailiki i ka honua, me ka naau eehia. Ia Kahalaomapuana i ike mai ai ia laua nei, he mea e kona huhu, alaila, kahea mai la oia me kona mana, ma ke ano Alihikaua no ke Alii, "E Hauailiki e! e ku oe a hele aku; no ka mea, aole o olua kuleana o keia wahi, ina e hoopaakiki mai oe, alaila, e kauoha no wau i na manu o Paliuli nei, e ai aku i ko olua mau io, me ka hoi uhane aku hoi i Kauai." A no keia olelo weliweli a Kahalaomapuana, alaila, ua hoopauia ko Hauailiki naau eehia, ala ae la ia a holo wikiwiki aku la a hiki ma Keaau, ma ke kahahiaka nui. Ma keia hele ana a laua iuka o Paliali, ua nui ka luhi, a no ia luhi, haule aku la laua a hiamoe. Iloko nae o ko Hauailiki manawa hiamoe, halawai mai la o Laieikawai me ka moeuhane, a halawai pu iho la laua, a i ko Hauailiki puoho ana ae mai ka hiamoe, aia hoi, he moeuhane kana. Moe hou iho la no o Hauailiki, loaa hou no ia ia ka moeuhane, e like me mamua. Eha po, eha ao, o ka hoomau ana o keia mea ia Hauailiki, nolaila, ua pono ole ko Hauailiki manao. I ka lima o ka po o ka hoomau ana o keia moeuhane ia Hauailiki, ma ka pili o ke ahiahi, ala ae la oia a pii aku la iuka o Paliuli, me ka ike ole nae o kona hoa. Ia ia i pii aku ai, aole oia i hele aku ma ke alanui mua a laua i pii mua ai, a ma kahi e kokoke aku ana ia Mailehaiwale, hele ae la keia ma kahi kaawale, a pakele aku la i na maka o na kiai o ke Alii. Ia ia i hiki ai mawaho o ka Hale Alii, ua hiamoe loa o Kahalaomapuana, alaila, nihi, malu aku la ko Hauailiki hele ana, a wehe ae la i ke pani o ka puka o ka Hale Alii, ua uhiia mai i ka Ahuula, aiahoi, ike aku la ia ia Laieikawai e kau mai ana iluna o ke eheu o na manu, ua hiamoe loa no hoi. Ia ia i komo aku ai a ku ma kahi a ke Alii e moe ana, lalau aku la oia i ke poo o ke Alii, a hooluilui ae la. Ia manawa, puoho mai la o Laieikawai mai ka hiamoe ana, aia hoi e ku ana o Hauailiki ma kona poo, a he mea pono ole ia i ko ke Alii wahine manao. Alaila, olelo malu mai la o Laieikawai, ia Hauailiki, "E hoi oe ano i keia manawa, no ka mea, ua waihoia ka make a me ke ola i ko'u mau kiai; a nolaila, ke minamina nei wau ia oe; e ku oe a hele, mai kali." I aku la o Hauailiki, "E ke Alii, e honi kaua, no ke mea, ia'u i pii mai ai iuka nei i keia mau po aku nei la, ua hiki mai wau iuka nei me ko ike ole; aka, ma ka mana o kou mau kiai, ua kipakuia wau, a ia maua i hiki ai i kai, a no ka maluhiluhi, haule aku la wau hiamoe. Ia'u e hiamoe ana, halawai pu iho la kaua ma ka moeuhane, a kahaule iho la kaua, a ua mui na la a me na po o ka hoomau ana ia'u o keia mea; nolaila wau i pii mai nei e hooko i ka hana i ka moeuhane." I aku la o Laieikawai, "E hoe oe, aole o'u manao i kau mea e olelo mai nei; no ka mea, ua loaa no ia mea ia'u ma ka moeuhane, ua hana no e like me ka hana ia oe, a heaha la ia mea ia'u; nolaila, e hoi oe." Iloko o ko Kahalaomapuana manawa hiamoe, lohe aku la oia i ka haukamumu o ka Halealii, a puoho ae la oia mai ka hiamoe ae, kahea aku la me ka ninau aku, "E Laieikawai! Owai kou hoa kamailio e haukamumu mai nei?" A lohe laua i keia leo ninau, hoomaha iho la ke Alii aole i pane aku. A mahope, ala ae la o Kahalaomapuana, a komo aku la i ka Halealii, aia hoi e noho mai ana o Hauailiki me Laieikawai iloko o ka Halealii. I aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "E! e Hauailiki, e ku oe a e hele, aole i kupono kou komo ana mai nei, ua olelo aku wau ia oe i kela po mamua, aole ou kuleana ma keia wahi, ua like no ka'u olelo i keia po me ka po mua, nolaila, e ku oe a hoi aku." A no keia olelo a Kahalaomapuana, ku ae la o Hauailiki me ka naau hilahila, a hoi aku la i kai o Keaau, a hai aku la i kona hoa no keia pii ana i Paliuli. A ike iho la o Hauailiki, aole he kuleana hou e loaa ai o Laieikawai, alaila, hoomakaukau ae la na waa no ka hoi i Kauai, a ma ka wanaao, haalele lakou ia Keaau, a hoi aku la. Ia Hauailiki ma i hoi aku ai i Kauai, a hiki lakou ma Wailua, ike aku la oia e akoakoa mai ana na'lii, a me na kaukaualii, a Kauakahialii, a me Kailiokalauokekoa kekahi i kela manawa. Ia Hauailiki ma e hookokoke aku ana ma ka nuku o ka muliwai o Wailua, ike aku la oia ia Aiwohikupua, kahea aku la, "Ua eo wau ia oe." A hiki aku la o Hauailiki, a hai aku la i ke ano o kana hele ana ia Aiwohikupua, me ka hai aku nae i ka lilo ana o kona mau kaikuahine i mau kiai no ke Alii, alaila, he mea olioli ia ia Aiwohikupua. I aku nae oia ia Hauailiki, "Ua pau ka pili a kaua, no ka manawa ona awa aku la no ia." I loko nae o ko Hauailiki manawa e kamailio ana no ka lilo ana o na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua i mau koa kiai no Laieikawai, alaila, ua manaolana hou ae la o Aiwohikupua e holo i Hawaii, no ke kii no ia Laieikawai e like no me kona manao mua. MOKUNA XV I iho la o Aiwohikupua, "Pomaikai wau no kuu haalele ana i na kaikuahine o'u i Hawaii, a e ko auanei ko'u makemake; no ka mea, ua lohe ae nei wau, ua lilo ko'u mau kaikuahine i mau koa kiai no ka'u mea e manao nei." I kela manawa a na'lii a pau e akoakoa nei ma Wailua, alaila, ku mai la o Aiwohikupua a hai mai la i kona manao imua o na Alii. "Auhea oukou, e holo hou ana wau i Hawaii, aole au e nele ana i ko'u makemake, no ka mea, aia'ku la i o'u mau kaikuahine ke kiai o ka'u mea e manao nei." A no kela olelo a Aiwohikupua, pane mai la o Hauailiki, "Aole e loaa ia oe, no ka mea, ua ike aku la wau i ke kapu o ke Alii wahine, a kapukapu no hoi me ou mau kaikuahine, hookahi nae kaikuahine huhu loa, o kahi mea uuku, nolaila ko'u manao paa aole e loaa ia oe, a he uku no kou kokoke aku." A no keia olelo a Hauailiki, aole he manao io o Aiwohikupua, no ka mea, ua manaolana loa kela no ka lohe ana o kona mau kaikuahine na kiai o ke Alii. Mahope iho oia mau la, hoolale ae la oia i kona mau puali koa kiai, a me kona hanohano Alii a pau. A makaukau ke Alii no na kanaka, alaila, kauoha ae la oia i kona Kuhina e hoomakaukau na waa. Wae ae la ke Kuhina i na waa kupono ke holo, he iwakalua kaulua, elua kanaha kaukahi, no na kaukaualii, a me na puali o ke Alii keia mau waa, a he kanaha peleleu, he mau waa a-ipuupuu no ke Alii ia. A o ke Alii hoi a me kona Kuhina, maluna laua o na pukolu. A makaukau keia mau mea a pau, e like me ka wa holo mau o ke Alii, pela lakou i holo ai. He nui na la i hala ma ia holo ana. A hiki lakou ma Kohala, ia manawa, akahi no a maopopo i ko Kohala poe o Aiwohikupua keia, ke kupua kaulana a puni na moku. A no ko ke Alii huna ana ia ia ma kela hiki ana ma Kohala, i hakaka'i me Ihuanu, oia ka mea i ike oleia ai. Haalele lakou ia Kohala, hiki aku la lakou i Keaau. I kela manawa a lakou i hiki aku ai, ua hoi aku o Laieikawai, a me na kaikuahine pu o Aiwohikupua i Paliuli. Ia Laieikawai ma i hoi aku ai ma kela la a Aiwohikupua ma i hiki aku ai, ua ike mua mai ko lakou kupunawahine i ko Aiwohikupua hiki ana ma Keaau. I mai la o Waka, "Ua hiki hou mai la o Aiwohikupua ma Keaau i keia la; nolaila, e kiai oukou me ka makaukau, e makaala ia oukou iho, mai iho oukou maikai, e noho oukou mauka nei a hiki i ka hoi ana o Aiwohikupua i Kauai." A lohe ke koa kiai Nui o ke Alii wahine i keia olelo a ko lakou kupunawahine, ia manawa, kauoha koke ae la o Kahalaomapuana ia Kihanuilulumoku ko lakou Akua, e hookokoke mai ma ka Halealii, e hoomakaukau no ka hoouka kaua. Ma ko Kahalaomapuana ano kiai nui no ke Alii, kauoha ae la oia i kona mau kaikuaana, e kukakuka lakou ma na mea e pono ai ke Alii. Ia lakou i akoakoa ai, kukakuka iho la lakou ma na mea kupono ia lakou. A eia ka lakou mau olelo hooholo, ma o ka noonoo la o Kahalaomapuana, ke koa kiai nui o ke Alii, "O oe e Mailehaiwale, ina e hiki mai o Aiwohikupua a halawai olua, e kipakuaku oe ia ia; no ka mea, o oe no ke kiai mua loa, a ina e hai mai i kona makemake, e hookuke aku no, a ina i paakiki loa mai ma kona ano keikikane ana, e hookuke ikaika aku ia ia, a ina i nui mai ka paakiki, alaila, e hoouna ae oe i kekahi manu kiai ou i o'u la, alaila, e hele mai au e hoohui ia kakou ma kahi hookahi, a na'u ponoi e kipaku aku ia ia. Ina he hele mai kana me ka inoino, alaila, e kauoha no wau i ko kakou Akua ia Kihanuilulumoku, nana no e luku aku ia ia." A pau aeia ka lakou kuka ana no keia mau mea, hookaawale lakou ia lakou iho e like me mamua, oiai e kiai ana lakou i ke Alii. Ma ka wanaao oia po iho, hiki ana o Aiwohikupua me kona Kuhina. Ia laua i ike mai ai e ku ana ka pahu kapu, ua uhiia i ka _oloa_, alaila, manao ae la laua ua kapu ke alanui e hiki aku ai i kahi o ke Alii. Aka, aole nae o Aiwohikupua manao ia kapu; no ka mea, ua lohe mua no ia, o kona mau kaikuahine ka mana kiai; nolaila, hoomau aku la laua i ka hele ana, a loaa hou he pahu kapu e like no me ka mea mua i loaa'i ia laua. Ua like no ko Aiwohikupua manao ma keia pahu kapu me kona manao mua. Hoomau aku la no laua i ka hele ana a loaa hou ke kolu o ka pahu kapu e like me na mea mua; no ka mea, ua kukuluia no na pahu kapu e like me ka nui o kona mau kaikuahine. A loaa ia laua ka ha o na pahu kapu, alaila, kokoke laua e hiki i ka lima o ka pahu kapu, oia no hoi ko Kahalaomapuana pahu kapu. Oia no hoi ka pahu kapu weliweli loa, ke hoomaka aeia e malamalama loa. Aka, aole nae laua i ike i ka weliweli oia pahu kapu, no ka mea, e molehulehu ana no. Haalele laua i kela pahu, aole i liuliu ko laua hele ana aku, halawai mua no laua me ke kiai mua me Mailehaiwale, mahamaha aku la o Aiwohikupua, no ka ike ana aku i ke kaikuahine; ia wa koke no, pane aku la o Mailehaiwale. "E hoi olua ano, he kapu keia wahi." Kuhi iho la o Aiwohikupua hoomaakaaka hoomaauea, hoomaka hou aku la laua e hookokoke aku i o Mailehaiwale, kipaku hou mai la no ke kiai. "E hoi koke olua, owai ko olua kuleana o uka nei, a o wai ko olua makamaka?" "Heaha keia, e kuu kaikuahine?" wahi a Aiwohikupua, "Kainoa o oukou no ko'u makamaka, a ma o oukou la e loaa'i ko'u makemake." Ia manawa, hoouna aku la o Mailehaiwale i kekahi manu kiai ona, a hiki i o Kahalaomapuana la; he manawa ole, hoohui ae la keia ia lakou a eha ma ko Mailekaluhea wahi kiai, a malaila i manao ai lakou e halawai me Aiwohikupua. MOKUNA XVI A makaukau lakou, kii ia'ku la lakou a hiki mai la. Ia Aiwohikupua i ike aku ai ia Kahalaomapuana e kau mai ana kela iluna o ke eheu o na manu, me he Alihikaua Nui la, a he mea hou loa ia ia Aiwohikupua ma. Pane mai la ka kiai Nui, "E hoi olua ano, mai lohi, a aole hoi e kali, no ka mea, ua kapu ke Alii, aole no ou kuleana ma keia wahi, a aole no hoi e hiki ia oe ke manao mai he mau kaikuahine makou nou, ua hala ia manawa." O ke ku aku la no ia o Kahalaomapuana hoi, pau ka ike ana. I kela manawa, ua ho-aia ka inaina wela o Aiwohikupua a mahuahua. Ma ia manawa, manao iho la oia e hoi a kai o Keaau, alaila, hoouna mai i kona mau puali koa e luku i na kaikuahine. Ia laua i kaha aku e hoi a hiki i ka pahu kapu o Kahalaomapuana, aia hoi ilaila, ua hoopiiia ka huelo o ua moo nui nei iluna o ka pahu kapu, ua uhiia i ka _oloa_, ka ieie, a me ka palai, a he mea weliweli loa ia laua ka nana ana aku. A hiki o Aiwohikupua ma i kai o Keaau, ia manawa, hoolale ae la ke Kuhina o Aiwohikupua i na puali koa o ke Alii e pii e luku i na kaikuahine, ma ke kauoha a ke Alii. Ia la no, ike mua mai la no o Waka i ko Aiwohikupua manao, a me kana mau hana. A no ia mea, hele mai la o Waka a halawai me Kahalaomapuana, ko ke Alii wahine Alihikaua, olelo mai la, "E Kahalaomapuana, ua ike wau i ka manao o ko oukou kaikunane, a me kana mau hana, ke hoomakaukau la oia i umi mau kanaka ikaika, nana e kii mai e luku ia oukou, no ka mea, ua inaina ko oukou kaikunane, no ko oukou kipaku ana i kakahiaka nei; nolaila, e noho makaukau oukou ma ka inoa o ko kakou Akua." Ia manawa, kauoha ae la oia ia Kihanuilulumoku, ka moo nui o Paliuli, ke akua o lakou nei. A hiki mai la ua moo nei, kauoha aku la oia, "E ko makou Akua, e Kihanuilulumoku, nanaia ke kupu, ka eu, ke kalohe o kai, ina e hele mai me ko lakou ikaika, pepehiia a pau, aohe ahailono, e noke oe a holo ke i olohelohe, e ao nae oe ia Kalahumoku, i ka ilio nui ikaika a Aiwohikupua, hemahema no oe, pau loa kakou, aole e pakele, kulia ko ikaika, ko mana a pau iluna o Aiwohikupua, Amama, ua noa, lele wale la." Oia ka pule kauoha a Kahalaomapuana i ko lakou Akua. Ma ka po ana iho, pii aku la na kanaka he umi a ke Alii i wae ae e luku i na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua, a o ka hope Kuhina ka umikumamakahi, mamuli o ka hookohu a ke Kuhina Nui i hope nona. Ma ka pili o ka wanaao, hiki lakou i kahi e kokoke iki aku ana i Paliuli. Ia manawa, lohe aku la lakou i ka hu o ka nahele i ka makani o ke alelo o ua moo nui nei o Kihanuilulumoku, e hanu mai ana ia lakou nei, aole nae lakou i ike i keia mea, nolaila, hoomau aku la lakou i ka hele ana aole nae lakou i liuliu aku, he ike ana ka lakou i ka upoi ana iho a _kea_ luna o ua moo nei maluna pono iho o lakou nei, aia nae lakou nei iwaenakonu o ka waha o ka moo, ia manawa, e lele koke aku ana ka Hope Kuhina, aole i kaawale aku, o ka muka koke ia aku la no ia pau loa, aohe ahailono. Elua la, aohe mea nana i hai aku keia pilikia ia Aiwohikupua ma. A no ka haohao o ke Alii i ka hoi ole aku o kona mau koa alaila he mea e ka huhu o ke Alii. A no keia mea, wae hou ae la ke Alii he mau kanaka he iwakalua e pii e luku i na kaikuahine, ma ka poe ikaika wale no; a hookohu aku la ke Kuhina i Hope Kuhina nona e hele pu me na koa. Pii hou aku la no lakou a hiki no i kahi i pau ai kela poe mua i ka make, pau hou no i ua moo nei, aohe ahailono. Kali hou no ke Alii aole i hoi aku. Hoouna hou aku no ke Alii hookahi kanaha koa, pau no i ka make; pela mau aku no ka make ana a hiki i ka e walu kanaha o na kanaka i pau i ka make. Ia manawa, kukakuka ae la o Aiwohikupua me kona Kuhina i ke kumu o keia hoi ole mai o na kanaka e hoouna mauia nei. I aku o Aiwohikupua i kona Kuhina, "Heaha keia e hoi ole mai nei na kanaka a kaua e hoouna aku nei?" I aku la kona Kuhina, "Malia paha, ua pii no lakou a hiki iuka, a no ka ike i ka maikai o kela wahi, noho aku la no, a i ole, ua make mai la no i ou mau kaikuahine." "Pehea auanei e make ai ia lakou, o na kaikamahine palupalu iho la ka mea e make ai o kau manao ana e make ia lakou?" pela aku o Aiwohikupua. A no ka makemake o ke Alii e ike i ke kumu e hoi ole nei o kona mau kanaka, hooholo ae la laua me kona Kuhina e hoouna i mau elele e ike i ke kumu o keia hana a na kanaka o laua. Ma ke kauoha a ke Alii, lawe ae la ke Kuhina ia Ulili, a me Akikeehiale, ko Aiwohikupua mau alele mama, a pii aku la e ike i ka pono o kona mau kanaka. I ua mau elele la i hala aku ai, aole i liuliu halawai mai la me laua kekahi kanaka kia manu mai uka mai o Olaa; ninau mai la, "Mahea ka olua hele." Olelo aku na elele, "E pii aku ana maua e ike i ka pono o ko makou poe, e noho la i Paliuli, awalu kanaha kanaka i hoounaia, aole hookahi o lakou i hoi ae." "Pau aku la," wahi a ke kia manu, "i ka moo nui ia Kihanuilulumoku, aole e pakele mai." A lohe laua i keia mea, hoomau aku la laua i ka pii ana, aole i upuupu, lohe aku la laua i ka hu a ka makani, a me ke kamumu o na laau e hina ana ma-o a ma-o, alaila hoomanao laua i ka olelo a ke kia manu, "ina e hu ana ka makani, o ua moo la ia." Maopopo iho la ia laua o ua moo nei keia, e lele ae ana laua ma ko laua kino manu. Ia lele ana a kiekie laua nei, i alawa ae ka hana aia maluna pono o laua _kea_ luna e poi iho ana ia laua nei, a no ko laua nei mama loa o ka lele ana ma ko laua ano kino manu, ua pakele laua. MOKUNA XVII I kela wa, lele Kaawale loa aku la laua a hala loa i luna lilo, i nana iho ka hana o ua o Ulili ma i _kea_ lalo o ua moo nei, e eku ana i ka honua me he Oopalau la, alaila, he mea weliweli ia laua i ka nana aku, maopopo iho la ia laua, ua pau ko lakou poe kanaka i ka make, hoi aku la laua a olelo aku la ia Aiwohikupua i ka laua mea i ike ai. Ia manawa, kiiia aku la o Kalahumoku, ka ilio nui ai kanaka a Aiwohikupua e hele e pepehi i ka moo a make, alaila, luku aku i na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua. I ka hiki ana o Kalahumoku ua ilio ai kanaka o Tahiti imua o kana moopuna (Aiwohikupua), "E pii oe i keia la e luku aku i o'u mau kaikuahine," wahi a Aiwohikupua, "a e lawe pu mai ia Laieikawai." Mamua o ko ka ilio pii ana e luku i na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua, kauoha mua ua Ilio nei i ke Alii, a me na kaukaualii, a me na kanaka a pau, a penei kana olelo kauoha: "Auhea oukou, ma keia pii ana a'u, e nana oukou i keia la iuka, ina e pii ka ohu a kupololei i luna a kiekie loa, ina e hina ka ohu ma ka lulu, alaila, ua halawai wau me Kihanuilulumoku, manao ae oukou ua hoaikane maua. Ina hoi e hina ana ka ohu i ka makani, alaila, ua hewa o uka, ua hakaka maua me ua moo nei. Alaila, o ka pule ka oukou i ke Akua ia Lanipipili, nana ae oukou i ka ohu a i hina i kai nei, ua lanakila ka moo; aka hoi, i pii ka ohu i luna a hina i luna o ke kuahiwi, alaila, ua hee ka moo; o ko kakou lanakila no hoi ia. Nolaila, e hoomau oukou i ka pule a hoi wale mai au." I ka pau ana o keia mau kauoha, pii aku la ka ilio, hoouna pu aku la o Aiwohikupua ia Ulili laua me Akikeehiale, i mau elele na laua e hai mai ka hana a ka moo me ka Ilio. I ka ilio i hiki aku ai iuka ma kahi kokoke i Paliuli, ua hiamoe nae o Kihanuilulumoku ia manawa. I ua moo nei e moe ana, hikilele ae la oia mai ka hiamoe ana, no ka mea, ua hoopuiwaia e ka hohono ilio, ia manawa nae, ua hala hope ka moo i ka ilio, e hele aku ana e loaa ke kiai mua o ke Alii Wahine. Ia manawa, hanu ae la ka moo ka hookalakupua hoi o Paliuli, a ike aku la ia Kalahumoku i ke aiwaiwa o Tahiti, ia manawa, wehe ae la ua moo nei i kona a luna e hoouka no ke kaua me Kalahumoku. I kela manawa koke no, hoike aku ana ka ilio i kona mau niho imua o ka moo. O ka hoomaka koke no ia o ke kaua, ia manawa, ua lanakila ka moo maluna o Kalahumoku, a hoi aku la ka ilio me ke ola mahunehune, ua pau na pepeiao a me ka huelo. I ka hoomaka ana nae o ko laua hakaka, hoi aku la na elele a hai aku la ia Aiwohikupua ma i keia kaua weliweli. A lohe aku la lakou ia Ulili ma i keia kaua a ka moo me ka ilio, a he mea mau nae ia Aiwohikupua ma ka nana ia uka. Ia lakou no enana ana, pii ae la ka ohu a kupololei i luna aole i upuupu, hina ana ka ohu i kai, alaila, manao ae la o Aiwohikupua ua lanakila ka moo, alaila, he mea kaumaha ia Aiwohikupua no ke pio ana o ko lakou aoao. Ma ke ahiahi o ua la hoouka kaua nei o na kupueu, hoi mai ana o Kalahumoku me ka nawaliwali, ua pau ke aho, i nana aku ka hana o ke Alii i kana ilio, ua pau na pepeiao, a me ka huelo i ka moo. A no keia mea, manao ae la o Aiwohikupua e hoi, no ka mea, ua pio lakou. Hoi aku la lakou a hiki i Kauai, a hai aku la i ke ano o kana hele ana, a me ka lanakila o ka moo maluna o lakou. (O ke kolu keia, o ko Aiwohikupua hiki ana i Paliuli no Laieikawai, aole he ko iki o kona makemake.) Ma keia hoi ana o Aiwohikupua i Kauai, mai ke kii hope ana ia Laieikawai, alaila, hoopau loa o Aiwohikupua i kona manao ana no Laieikawai. Ia manawa ka hooko ana a Aiwohikupua e hoo ko i ka olelo Kauohu a Poliahu. I kela wa, papaiawa ae la o Aiwohikupua me kona mau kaukaualii, a me na haiawahine ona e hoopau i kana olelo hoohiki imua o Lanipipili kona Akua. A loaa kona hoomaikaiia imua o kona Akua, me ke kalaia o kona hala hoohiki, "Aole e lawe i kekahi o na wahine o keia mau mokupuni i wahine hoao," e like me na mea i hoikeia ma kekahi o na Mokuna mua o keia Kaao. A pau na la o ka papaiawa ma Kauai, hoouna aku la ia i kona mau elele ia Ulili laua me Akikeehiale, e holo aku e hai i ka olelo kauoha a ke Alii imua o Poliahu. Ma ko laua ano kino manu, ua lele koke laua a hiki Hinaikamalama la ma Hana, a hiki laua, ninau aku i na ka maaina, "Auhea la ka wahine hoopalau a ke Alii o Kauai." "E i ae no," wahi a ma kamaaina. Hele aku la laua a halawai me ke Alii wahine o Hana. Olelo aku la na elele i ke Alii wahine, "I hoounaia mai nei maua, e hai aku ia oe, ma ke kauoha a ko kane hoopalau. Ekolu malama ou e hoomakaukau ai no ka hoao o olua, a ma ka ha o ka malama i ka po i o Kulu e hiki mai ai oia a halawai olua e like me ka olua hoohiki ana." A lohe ke Alii wahine i keia mau olelo, hoi aku la na elele a hiki i o Aiwohikupua. Ninau mai la ke Alii, "Ua halawai olua me Poliahu?" "Ae," wahi a na elele, "hai aku nei maua e like me ke kauoha, ke hoomakaukau la paha kela, i mai nei nae o ua Poliahu ia maua, ke hoomanao la no nae paha ia i ke konane ana a maua?" "Ae paha," wahi a na elele. A lohe ke Alii i keia olelo hope a na elele, manao ae la o Aiwohikupua i keia mau olelo, aole ia i hiki i o Poliahu la, alaila, hoomaopopo aku la o Aiwohikupua, "Pehea ka olua lele ana aku nei?" Hai aku laua, "Lele aku nei maua a loaa he mokuaina lele hou aku no a he wahi mokuaina loihi, mailaila aku maua a he mokuaina nui e like me ka moku i loaa mua ia maua, elua nae mau moku liilii iho e like me kahi moku loihi, a he wahi mokuaina uuku loa iho, lele aku la maua ma ka aoao hikina o ua moku la a hiki maua he hele malalo o na puu, a he malu e uhi ana, ilaila o Poliahu i loaa'i ia maua, oia la." I mai la o Aiwohikupua, "Aole i loaa ia olua o Poliahu, o Hinaikamalama aku la ia." Aka, ma keia hana a na elele lalau, ua ho-aia ka inaina o ke Alii no kana mau elele, nolaila, ua hoopauia ko laua punahele. Ma keia hoopauia ana o ua o Ulili ma, manao iho la laua, e hai i na mea huna i papaia ia laua e ko laua haku, nolaila, ua hooko laua i ka laua mea i ohumu ai, aia ma ka Mokuna XVIII, kakou e ike ai. MOKUNA XVIII Mahope iho o ka hoopauia ana o Ulili ma; hoouna hou aku la oia ia Koae, kekahi o kana mau elele mama e like me ka olelo kauoha i na elele mua. A hiki o Koae i o Poliahu la, halawai aku la laua, hai aku la o Koae i ke kauoha a ke Alii e like me ka mea i haiia ma na pauku hope o ka Mokuna XVII o keia Kaao; a pau na olelo a ke Alii i ka haiia, hoi aku la ko ke Alii elele, a hai aku la ma ka pololei, alaila, he mea maikai ia i kona Haku. Noho iho la o Aiwohikupua, a i na la hope o ke kolu o ka malama; lawe ae la ke Alii i kona mau kaukaualii, a me na punahele, i na haiawahine hoi, na hoa kupono ke hele pu ma ke kahiko ana i ka hanohano Alii ke hele ma kana huakai no ka hoao o na Alii. I na la i o Kaloa kukahi, haalele o Aiwohikupua ia Kauai, holo aku oia he kanaha kaulua, elua kanaha kaukahi, he iwahalua peleleu. Mamua o ka po hoao o na Alii, i ka po i o Huna, hiki lakou i Kawaihae, ia manawa, hoouna aku la oia ia koae, kona elele e kii ia Poliahu e iho mai e halawai me Aiwohikupua, i ka la i kauohaia'i e hoao. A hiki ka elele imua o Aiwohikupua mai ke kii ana ia Poliahu, a hai mai la i kana olelo mai a Poliahu mai, "Eia ke kauoha a ko wahine, ma Waiulaula olua e hoao ai, ina e ike aku kakou ma ke kakahiaka nui o ka la o Kulu, e halii ana ka hau mai ka piko o Maunakea, Maunaloa, a me Hualalai, a hiki i Waiulaula, alaila, ua hiki lakou i kahi o olua e hoao ai, alaila, hele aku kakou, pela mai nei." Alaila, hoomakaukau ae la o Aiwohikupua i kona hanohano Alii. Kahiko aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona mau kaukaualii kane, a me na kaukaualii wahine, a me na punahele, i ka Ahuula, a o na haiawahine kekahi i kahikoia i ka Ahuoeno. A kahiko iho la o Aiwohikupua i kona kapa hau a Poliahu i haawi aku ai, kau iho la i ka mahiole ie i hakuia i ka hulu o na Iiwi. Kahiko aku la oia i kona mau hoewaa, a me na hookele i na kihei paiula, e like me ke kahiko ana i na hoewaa o ke Alii, pela no na hoewaa o kona puali alii a pau. Ma na waa o ke Alii i kau ai a holo aku, ua kukuluia maluna o na pola o na waa he anuu, he wahi e noho ai ke Alii; ua hakuia ka anuu o ke Alii i na Ahuula, a maluna pono o ka anuu, he mau puloulou kapu Alii, a maloko o ka puloulou, noho iho la o Aiwohikupua. Ma na waa ukali o ke Alii, he umi kaulua e hoopuni ana i ko ke Alii waa, a maluna o na waa ukali o ke Alii, he poe akamai i ke kaeke. Pela i kahikoia ai o Aiwohikupua i ko laua la i hoao ai me Poliahu. Ma ka la o Kulu, ma ke kakahiaka, i ka puka ana ae o ka la a kiekie iki ae, ike aku la o Aiwohikupua ma i ka hoomaka ana o ka hau e uhi maluna o ka piko o na mauna, a hiki i kahi o laua e hoao ai. I kela manawa, ua hiki o Poliahu, Lilinoe, Waiaie, a me Kahoupokane, i kahi e hoao ai na Alii. Ia manawa, hoomaka o Aiwohikupua e hele e hui me ka wahine noho mauna o Maunakea. E like me ka mea i oleloia maluna, pela ko ke Alii hele ana. Ia Aiwohikupua ma e holo aku ana i ka moana mai Kawaihae aku, he mea e ka olioli o Lilinoe i ka hanohano launa ole o ke Alii kane. A hiki lakou i Waiulaula, ua pauhia lakou e ke anu, a nolaila, hoouna aku la o Aiwohikupua i kona elele e hai aku ia Poliahu, "Aole e hiki aku lakou no ke anu." Ia manawa, haalele e Poliahu i kona kapa hau, lalau like ae la ka poe noho mauna i ko lakua kapa la, hoi aku la ka hau a kona wahi mau. Ia Aiwohikupua ma i hiki aku ai ma ko Poliahu ma wahi e noho ana, he mea lealea loa i ke Alii wahine na mea kani o na waa o ke Alii kane, a he mea mahalo loa no hoi ia lakou ka ike ana i ko ke Alii kane hanohano, a maikai hoi. Ia laua i hui ai, hoike ae la o Aiwohikupua, a me Poliahu, i na aahu o laua i haawi muaia i mau hoike no ka laua olelo ae like. Ia manawa, hoa ae la na Alii, a lilo ae la laua i hookahi io, hoi ae la lakou a noho ma Kauai iuka o Honopuwai. O na elele mua a Aiwohikupua, o Ulili laua me Akikeehiale, na laua i hele aku e hai ia Hinaikamalama i ka hoao ana o Aiwohikupua me Poliahu. Ia Hinaikamalama i lohe ai i keia mau olelo no ka hoao o Aiwohikupua ma, ia manawa, noi aku la oia i kona mau makua e holo e makaikai ia Kauai, a ua pono kana noi imua o kona mau makua. Hoolale ae la kona mau makua i na kanaka e hoomakaukau i na waa no Hinaikamalama e holo ai i Kauai, a wae ae la i mau hoahele kupono no ke Alii e like me ke ano mua o ka huakai Alii. A makaukau ko ke Alii mau pono no ka hele ana, kau aku la o Hinaikamalama ma na waa, a holo aku la a hiki i Kauai. Ia ianei i hiki aku ai, aia o Aiwohikupua me Poliahu ma Mana, e akoakoa ana na Alii malaila no ka la hookahakaha o Hauailiki me Makaweli. Ia po iho, he po lealea ia no na Alii, he kilu, a he kaeke, na lealea ia po. Ia Aiwohikupua ma e lealea ana ia manawa, ma ka waena konu o ka po, hiki aku la o Hinaikamalama a noho iloko o ka aha lealea; a he mea malihini nae i ka aha keia kaikamahine malihini. Ia manawa aianei i komo aku ai iloko o ka aha lealea, aole nae o Aiwohikupua i ike maopopo mai ia manawa, no ka mea, ua lilo i ka hula kaeke. Ia Hinaikamalama e noho ana iloko o ka aha lealea, aia hoi, ua komo iloko o Hauailiki ka iini nui. Ia manawa, hele aku la o Hauailiki a i ka mea ume i aku la, "E hele oe a olelo aku ia Aiwohikupua e hoopau ka hula kaeke, i kilu ka lealea i koe, aia a kilu, alaila, kii aku oe a ume mai i ka wahine malihini, o ko'u pili ia o keia po." Ma ke kauoha a ka mea nona ka po lealea e kilu, ua hoopauia ke kaeke. Ia Hauailiki e kilu ana me Poliahu, a i ka umi o na hauna kilu a laua. Ia manawa, ku mai la ka mea ume a kaapuni ae la a puni ka aha, hoi mai la a kau aku la i ka maile ia Hauailiki me ke oli ana, a ku mai la o Hauailiki. Ia manawa, kaili mai la ka mea ume i ka maile a kau aku la maluna o Hinaikamalama, a ku mai la. Ia manawa, a Hinaikamalama i ku mai ai, nonoi aku la oia i ka mea ume e olelo ae, a kunou mai la ka mea ume. Ninau aku la o Hinaikamalama i ka mea nona ka aha lealea, haiia mai la no Hauailiki me Makeweli. Iloko o kela manawa, huli pono aku la o Hinaikamalama a olelo aku ia Hauailiki, "E ke Alii nona keia aha lealea, ua lohe ae la wau keia aha, ua umeia ae nei kaua e ka mea ume o ka aha lealea au, e ke Alii, no ka hoohui ana ia kaua no ka manawa pokole, alia nae wau e hooko i ka ume a ka mea nana i ume ia kaua e like me kona makemake. Aka, a hoakaka ae wau i ko'u kuleana i hiki mai ai ia Kauai nei, mai kahi loihi mai. Oiala, o Aiwohikupua ko'u kuleana i hiki ai i keia aina, no kuu lohe ana ae nei ua hoao oiala me Poliahu, nolaila i hele mai nei wau e ike i koiala hoopunipuni nui ia'u. No ka mea, hiki ae kela i Hana ma Maui, e heenalu ana makou, na laua la nae ka heenalu hope loa, a pau ka laua la heenalu ana, hoi laua la e konane ana makou, makemake no oiala i ke konane, kau hou ka papa konane a paa, ninau aku wau i kona kumu pili, kuhikuhi kela i na kaulua. Olelo aku wau, aole o'u makemake i kona kumu pili, alaila, hai aku wau i ka'u kumu pili makemake, o na kino no o maua, ina e make wau ia iala ma ke konane ana, alaila, lilo wau na iala, ma kana mau hana a pau e olelo ai ia'u, malaila wau, ma na mea kupono nae, a pela no hoi wau ina e make kela ia'u, alaila, e like me kana hana ia'u, pela no ka'u ia ia; a holo like ia maua keia olelo paa. I ke konane ana nae, aole i liuliu, paa mua ia'u na luna o ka papa konane a maua, o koiala make iho la no ia. I aku wau ia iala, ua eo oe, pono oe ke noho me a'u e like me ka kaua pili ana. I mai kela, 'Alia wau e hooko i kau kumu pili a hoi mai wau mai kuu huakai kaapuni mai, alaila, hookoia ke kumu pili au e ke Alii wahine.' A no keia olelo maikai aianei, ua holo like ia ia maua, a no keia mea, noho puupaa wau me ka maluhia a hiki mai i keia manawa. A no kuu lohe ana ae nei he wahine ka iala, oia ko'u hiki mai nei ia Kauai nei, a komo mai la i ko aha lealea e ke Alii, oia la." Ia manawa, nene aku la ka aha kanaka a puni ka papai kilu, me ka hoohewa loa ia Aiwohikupua. Ia manawa no a Hinaikamalama a haiolelo la, alaila ua hoopihaia o Poliahu i ka huhu wela, o kona hoi no ia i Maunakea a hiki i keia la. Mahope iho nae o ka haiolelo ana a Hinaikamalama, hoomaka hou ke kilu, ia Aiwohikupua laua me Makaweli ke kilu ia manawa. Ia manawa, ku hou mai la ka mea ume a hooili hou i ka maile maluna o Hauailiki me Hinaikamalama, a ku ae la o Hauailiki, a ku mai la no hoi o Hinaikamalama. Ma keia ume hope, hai mai la o Hinaikamalama i kana olelo imua o Hauailiki, "E ke Alii e, ua hoohuiia kaua e ka mea ume ma ka mea mau o na aha lealea. Aka, alia wau e ae aku, aia ae mai o Aiwohikupua e hooko maua i na hoohiki a maua, a pau ko maua manawa, alaila, ma ka po lealea hou a ke Alii, e hookoia ai ka ume o keia po no kaua." Alaila, he mea maikai loa ia i ko Hauailiki manao. A no keia olelo a Hinaikamalama, lawe ae la o Aiwohikupua ia Hinaikamalama no ka hooko i ka laua hoohiki. Ia po no, iloko o ko laua manawa hoomaha no ka hooluolu i ka hoohiki ana, hike mai la ma o Hinaikamalama ke anu maeele loa, no ka mea, ua kuu mai la o Poliahu i ke anu o kona kapahau maluna o kona enemi. Ia manawa, hapai ae la o Hinaikamalama he wahi mele: "He anu e he a--nu He anu e wale no hoi keia, Ke ko nei i ke ano o kuu manawa, Ua hewa ka paha loko o ka noho hale, Ke kau mai nei ka halia i kuu manawa, No ka noho hale paha ka hewa--e. E kuu hoa--e, he anu--e." MOKUNA XIX A pau ke oli ana i Hinaikamalama, olelo aku la oia ia Aiwohikupua, "Auhea oe, e apo mai oe ia'u a paa i mehana iho wau, hele mai nei kuu anu a anu, aohe wahi anu ole." Alaila, hooko mai la o Aiwohikupua i ka ka wahine olelo, alaila, loaa mai la ka mahana e like me mamua. A hoomakaukau iho la laua e hooluolu no ka hooko i ka laua hoohiki ma ka hoopalau ana, alaila, hiki hou mai la ke anu ia Hinaikamalama, o ka lua ia o kona loaa ana i ke anu. Ia manawa, hapai hou ae la oia he wahi mele, penei: "E ke hoa e, he a--nu, Me he anu hau kuahiwi la keia, Ke anu mai nei ma na kapuai, Ke komi nei i kuu manawa, Kuu manawa hiamoe--hoi, Ke hoala mai nei ke anu ia'u, I kuu po hiamoe--hoi." I keia manawa, olelo aku la o Hinaikamalama ia Aiwohikupua, "Aole anei oe i ike i ke kumu o keia anu o kaua? Ina ua ike oe i ke kumu o keia anu, alaila e hai mai; mai huna oe." I aku o Aiwohikupua, "No ko punalua keia anu, ua huhu paha ia kaua, nolaila, aahu ae la ia i ke kapa hau ona, nolaila na anu." Pane aku la o Hinaikamalama, "Ua pau kaua, no ka mea, ua pili ae la no na kino o kaua, a ua ko ae la no ka hoohiki a kaua no ka hoopalau ana." I mai o Aiwohikupua, "Ua oki kaua i keia manawa, e hookaawale kaua, apopo ma ke awakea, alaila, oia ka hooko ana o ka hoohiki a kaua." "Ae," wahi a Hinaikamalama. A kaawale aku la laua, alaila, loaa iho la ia Hinaikamalama ka moe oluolu ana ia koena po a hiki i ke ao ana. Ma ke awakea, lawe hou ae la o Aiwohikupua e hooko i ka laua mea i olelo ai ia po iho mamua. Iloko o ko laua manawa i hoomaka ai no ka hooko ana i ka hoohiki, alaila, ua pono ole ia mea i ko Poliahu manao. Ia manawa, lawe ae la o Poliahu i kona kapa la, a aahu iho la, ia manawa ka hookuu ana'ku o Poliahu i ka wela maluna o Hinaikamalama. Ia manawa, hapai ae la oia he wahi mele, penei: "He wela--e, he wela, Ke poi mai nei ka wela a kuu ipo ia'u, Ke hoohahana nei i kuu kino, Ke hoonakulu nei hoi i kuu manawa, No kuu ipo paha keia wela--e." I aku o Aiwohikupua, "Aole no'u na wela, malia paha no Poliahu no na wela, ua huhu paha ia kaua." I aku la o Hinaikamalama, "E hoomanawanui hou kaua, a ina i hiki hou mai ka wela maluna o kaua, alaila, haalele mai oe ia'u." Mahope iho o keia mau mea, hoao hou ae la laua i ka laua hana no ka hooko i ka laua hoohiki. Ia manawa, kau hou mai la no ka wela maluna o laua, alaila, hapai hou ae la oia ma ke mele: "He wela--e he we--la, Ke apu mai nei ka wela a ka po ia'u, Ke ulili anapu nei i kau manawa, Ka wela kukapu o ka hooilo, I haoa enaena i ke kau, Ka la wela kulu kahi o ka Makalii, Ke hoeu mai nei ka wela ia'u e hele, E hele no--e." Ia manawa, ke ku ae la no ia o Hinaikamalama hele. I mai o Aiwohikupua, "Kainoa o ka haawi mai i ka ihu, alaila hele aku." I mai la o Hinaikamalama, "Aole e haawiia ka ihu ia oe, o ka hao ana mai ia o ka wela o ua wahine au, pono ole. Aloha oe." (E waiho kakou i ke kamailio ana no Aiwohikupua maanei. E pono e kamailio pokole no Hinaikamalama.) Mahope iho o kona hookaawale ana ia Aiwohikupua, hele aku oia a noho ma ka hale kamaaina. Ia po iho, he po lealea hou ia no Hauailiki me na'lii ma Puuopapai. Ia po, hoomanao ae la o Hinaikamalama no kana kauoha ia Hauailiki, mahope iho o ko laua umeia ana, a mamua hoi o kona hoohui ana me Aiwohikupua. I kela po, oia ka lua o ka po lealea, alaila, hele aku la o Hinaikamalama a noho pu aku la mawaho o ka aha. Ia manawa, na Kauakahialii laua me Kailiokalauokekoa ke kilu mua. Mahope iho, na Kailiokalauokekoa me Makaweli, ka lua o ka lealea. Ia laua e kilu ana, komo mai la o Poliahu iloko o ka aha lealea. Ia Hauailiki me Poliahu ke kilu hope oia po. A no ka ike ole o ka mea ume ia Hinaikamalama i kela po, nolaila, aole e hiki i ka mea ume ke hoomaka i kana hana. No ka mea, ua oleloia i ka po mua, no Hauailiki a me Hinaikamalama ka lealea mua oia po, a no ka loaa ole i ka maka o ka mea ume, ua lilo ka lealea i na mea e ae. I ke kokoke ana e ao ua po nei, huli ae la ka mea ume iloko o ka aha ia Hinaikamalama, a loaa iho la. Ia manawa, ku mai la ka mea ume a waenakonu o ka aha, ia Hauailiki me Poliahu e kilu ana, ia manawa, kani aku la ke oli a ka mea ume, e hookolili ana i ka welau o ka maile i luna o Hauailiki, a kaili mai la ka mea ume i ka maile, alaila, ku mai la o Hauailiki. Hele aku la ua mea ume nei a loaa o Hinaikamalama, kau aku la i ka maile a kaili mai la. Ia manawa, ku mai la o Hinaikamalama mawaho o ka aha imua o ke anaina. A ike mai la o Poliahu ia Hinaikamalama, kokoe aku la na maka, i ka ike i kona enemi. A hala aku la o Hauailiki me Hinaikamalama ma kahi kupono ia laua e hooluolu ai. Ia laua e hui ana, i aku la o Hinaikamalama ia Hauailiki. "Ina he lawe kou ia'u no ka manawa pokole a pau ae, alaila, ua pau kaua, no ka mea, aole pela ka makemake o ko'u mau makua, alaila, e waiho puupaa ia'u pela. Aka, ina i manao oe e lawe ia'u i wahine hoao nau, alaila, e haawi wau ia'u nau mau loa, e like me ka makemake o ko'u mau makua." A no kela olelo a ka wahine, hai aku o Hauailiki i kona manao, "Ua pono kou manao, ua like no kou manao me ko'u; aka, e hoohui mua kaua ia kaua iho e like me ka makemake o ka mea ume, a mahope loa aku, alaila hoao loa kaua." "Aole pela," wahi a Hinaikamalama, "e waiho puupaa ia'u pela, a hiki i kou manawa e kii ae ai ia'u, a loaa wau i Hana." I ke kolu o ka po lealea o Hauailiki, i na'lii e akoakoa ana, a me na mea e ae, oia ka po i hui ai o Lilinoe, me Poliahu, o Waiau, a me Kahoupokane, no ka mea, ua imi mai lakou ia Poliahu, me ka manao ke pono nei ko Aiwohikupua ma noho ana me Poliahu. Ia po, ia Aiwohikupua me Makaweli e kilu ana, a i ka waenakonu o ko laua manawa lealea, komo ana na wahine noho mauna iloko o ka aha lealea. Ia Poliahu ma eha e ku ana me na kapa hau o lakou, he mea e ka hulali, ia manawa, nei aku la ka aha lealea no keia poe wahine, no ke ano e o ko lakou kapa. Ia manawa, popoi mai la ke anu i ka aha lealea a puni ka papai kilu, a kau mai la maluna o ka aha ka pilikia a hiki i ka wanaao, haalele o Poliahu ma ia Kauai. O keia manawa pu no hoi ka haalele ana o Hinaikamalama ia Kauai. (Aia a hiki aku i ka hiki ana aku o Laieikawai i Kauai, mahope iho o ko Kekalukaluokewa hoao ana me Laieikawai, alaila, e hoomaka hou ke kamailio no Hinaikamalama. Ma keia wahi e kamailio no ke kauoha a Kauakahialii i kana aikane, pela aku a hiki i ka hui ana me Laieikawai.) Ia Kauakahialii me Kailiokalauokekoa ma Pihanakalani, mahope iho o ko laua hoi ana mai Haawii mai. Oiai ua kokoke mai ko laua mau la hope. Ia manawa, kauoha ae la o Kauakahialii i kana aikane ia Kekalukaluokewa, i kana olelo hoopomaikai maluna ona, a eia no ia: "E kuu aikane aloha nui, ke waiho aku nei wau i olelo hoopomaikai maluna ou, no ka mea, ke kokoke mai nei ko'u mau la hope a hoi aku i ka aoao mau o ka honua. "Hookahi no au mea malama o ka wahine a kaua, aia a haule aku wau i kahi hiki ole ia'u ke ike mai ia olua me ka wahine a kaua, alaila, ku oe i ka moku, o oe no maluna, o ka wahine a kaua malalo, e like no me ka kaua nei ana i ka moku i puni ai, pela no oe e noho aku ai me ka wahine a kaua. "A make wau, a manao ae paha oe i wahine nau, mai lawe oe i ka kaua wahine, aole no hoi e manao oe ia ia o kau wahine ia, no ka mea, ua lilo no ia ia kaua. "Aia kau wahine e kii o kuu wahine i haalele aku nei i Hawaii, o Laieikawai, i na o kau wahine, ia ola ke kino, a kaulana no hoi. A manao oe e kii, hookahi au mea malama o ka ohe a kaua, aia malama pono oe i ka ohe, alaila wahine oe, oia ke kauoha ia oe." Ma keia kauoha a Kauakahialii, ua pono ia i ko ke aikane manao. Ma ia hope mai, make aku la o Kauakahialii, lilo ka noho alii i kana aikane, a o ka laua wahine no ke Kuhina. A ma ia hope mai, i ke kokoke ana i ko Kailiokalauokekoa mau la hope, waiho aku la oia i olelo kuoha no ka malama ana ia Kanikawi ka laua ohe kapu me kana kane, e like me ke kauoha a Kauakahialii: "E kuu kane, eia ka ohe, malamaia, he ohe mana, o na mea a pau au e makemake ai, ina e kii oe i ka wahine a ko aikane i kauoha ai ia oe, o ka mea no keia nana e hoohui ia olua. Eia nae e malama mau loa oe, ma kau wahi e hele ai, a e noho ai, mai haalele iki i ka ohe, no ka mea, ua ike no oe i ka hana a kau aikane i ko olua manawa i kii ae ai ia'u i kuu wa e aneane aku ana i ka make, mamuli o kuu aloha i ko aikane. Na ua ohe la keia ola ana e ola aku nei mai ka luakupapau mai, nolaila, e hoolohe oe me ka malama loa e like me ka'u e olelo aku nei ia oe." MOKUNA XX A make aku la o Kailiokalauokekoa, lilo ae la ka noho Alii a pau loa ia Kekalukaluokewa, a hooponopono aku la oia i ka aina, a me na kanaka a pau malalo o kona noho Alii. Mahope iho o ka pau ana o kana hooponopono ana i ka aina, a me kona noho Alii ana. Ia manawa, hoomanao ae la o Kekalukaluokewa i ke kauoha a kana aikane no Laieikawai. Ia Kekalukaluokewa i manao ai e hooko i ke kauoha a kana aikane, kauoha ae la oia i kona Kuhina, e hoomakaukau i na waa hookahi mano, no ka huakai kii wahine a ke Alii i Hawaii, e like me ke aoao mau o ke Alii. A makaukau ka ke Alii kauoha, lawe ae la ke Alii elua mau punahele, a lawe ae la i na kaukaualii ka poe kupono ke hele pu me ke Alii, a lawe ae la oia i kona mau ialoa a pau. I ka malama i oleloia o ka Mahoe mua, i na malama maikai o ka moana, haalele lakou ia Kauai, a holo aku i Hawaii. Ua nui na la i hala ia lakou ma ia hele ana. Ma keia holo ana a lakou, hiki aku la ma Makahanaloa i Hilo, ma ke kakahiaka nui. Ia manawa, olelo aku kahi kanaka nana i ike mua ia Laieikawai i ke Alii, "E nana oe i kela anuenue e pio la iuka, o Paliuli no ia, oia no ua wahi la, malaila no kahi i loaa'i ia'u." E nee ana nae ka ua o Hilo ia mau la a lakou i hiki aku ai ma Makahanaloa. A no keia olelo a kahi kanaka, i aku ke Alii, "Alia wau e manaoio i kau no Laieikawai kela hoailona, no ka mea, he mea mau iloko o ka wa ua ka pio o ke anuenue, nolaila, i kuu manao, e hekau na waa, a e kali kakou a malie ka ua, alaila, i pio mai ke anuenue iloko o ka wa ua ole, alaila maopopo no Laieikawai ka hoailona." Ua like ko ke Alii manao ana ma keia mea me ko Aiwohikupua. A no keia mea, noho iho la lakou malaila e like me ko ke Alii makemake. Hookahi anahulu me elua la keu, haalele ka malie o Hilo, ike maikaiia aku la ka aina. I ke kakahiaka nui o ka la umikumamalua, puka aku la ke Alii iwaho mai ka hale ae. Aia hoi e hoomau ana ke anuenue e like me mamua, ma ke kiekie iki ana'e o ka la, aia e pio ana ke anuenue i kai o Keaau, ua hala ae la o Laieikawai i kai. (E like me ka kakou kamailio ana mamua ma ko Aiwohikupua moolelo.) Ma kela la, pau ko ke Alii kanalua ana no kela hoailona, a holo aku la a hiki i Keaau. Ia lakou i hiki aku ai ma Keaau, ua hoi aku o Laieikawai iuka o Paliuli. Ia lakou i hiki aku ai, ua nui na kamaaina i lulumi mai e makaikai ia Kekalukaluokewa; me ka olelo mai o na kamaaina, "Akahi no ka aina kanaka maikai o Kauai." I kela la a Kekalukaluokewa ma i holo aku ai a hiki i Keaau. Ua ike mua mai o Waka o Kekalukaluokewa keia. Olelo mai o Waka i kana moopuna, "Mai iho hou oe i kai, no ka mea, ua hiki mai la o Kekalukaluokewa i Keaau, i kii mai la ia oe i wahine oe. Make aku la o Kauakahialii, kauoha ae la i ke aikane e kii mai ia oe i wahine, nolaila o kau kane ia. A ae oe o kau kane ia, ku oe i ka moku, ola no hoi na iwi. Nolaila, e noho oe iuka nei, a hala na la eha, alaila iho aku oe, a ina ua makemake oe, alaila, hoi mai oe a hai mai i kou makemake ia'u." Noho iho la o Laieikawai a hala na la eha e like me ke kauoha a kona kupunawahine. Ma ke kakahiaka nui o ka ha o ko Laieikawai mau la hoomalu, ala ae la oia, a me kona kahu kuapuu, a iho aku la i Keaau. La laua i hiki aku ai, ma kahi kokoke iki e nana aku ai i kauhale; aia hoi, ua hiki mua aku o Kekalukaluokewa ma kulana heenalu mamua o ko laua hiki ana aku, ekolu nae mau keiki e ku ana ma kulana heenalu o ke Alii a me na punahele elua. Ia Laieikawai ma e noho ana ma kahi a laua e hoohalua ana no Kekalukaluokewa, aole nae laua i like i ke kane a ke kupunawahine i makemake ai. I aku o Laieikawai i kona wahi kahu, "Pehea la kaua e ike ai i ke kane a'u a kuu kupunawahine i olelo mai nei?" Olelo aku kona kahu, "Pono kaua ke kali a pau ka lakou heenalu ana, a o ka mea e hele wale mai ana, aole he paa i ka papa heenalu, alaila, o ke Alii no ia, o ko kane no ka hoi ia." Ma ka olelo a ko Laieikawai kahu, noho iho la laua malaila, e kali ana. Ia manawa, hoopau ae la na heenalu i ko lakou manawa heenalu, a hoi mai la a pae iuka. Ia wa, ike aku la laua i ke kiiia ana mai o na papa o na punahele e na kanaka, a laweia aku la. O ka papa heenalu hoi o ke Alii, na na punahele i auamo aku, a hele wale mai la o Kekalukaluokewa, pela i ike ai o Laieikawai i kana kane. A maopopo iho la ia laua ka laua mea i iho mai ai, alaila, hoi aku la laua a hiki i Paliuli, a hai aku la i ke kupunawahine i ka laua mea i ike ai. Ninau mai la ke kupunawahine, "Ua makemake oe i ko kane?" "Ae," wahi a Laieikawai. I mai o Waka, "Apopo, ma ka puka ana o ka la, oia ka wa e a-u ai o Kekalukaluokewa i ka heenalu oia wale, ia manawa, e hoouhi aku ai wau i ka noe maluna o ka aina a puni o Puna nei, a maloko oia noe, e hoouna aku no wau ia oe maluna o na manu a hui olua me Kekalukaluokewa me ka ike oleia, aia a pau ka uhi ana o ka noe maluna o ka aina, ia manawa e ike aku ai na mea a pau, o oe kekahi me Kekalukaluokewa e hee mai ana i ka nalu hookahi, oia ka manawa e loaa'i ko ihu i ke keiki Kauai. Nolaila, i kou puka ana mailoko aku nei o kou hale, aole oe e kamailio iki aku i kekahi mea e ae, aole i kekahi kane, aole hoi i kekahi wahine, aia a laa ko ihu ia, Kekalukaluokewa, oia kou manawa e kamailio ai me na mea e ae. Aia a pau ka olua heenalu ana, alaila, e hoouna aku wau i na manu, a me ka noe maluna o ka aina, o kou manawa ia e hoi mai ai me ko kane a loko o ko olua hale, alaila, e hoolaaia ko kino e like me ko'u makemake." A pau keia mau mea i ka haiia ia Laieikawai, hoi aku la oia ma kona Halealii, oia a me kona kahu. Ia Laieikawai me kona kahu ma ka hale, mahope iho o ke kauoha ana a kona kupunawahine. Hoouna ae la oia i kona kahu e kii aku ia Mailehaiwale, Mailekaluhea, Mailelaulii, Mailepakaha, a me Kahalaomapuana, kona mau hoa kuka e like me ka lakou hoohiki ana. A hiki mai la kona mau hoa kuka, kona mau kiai kino hoi, olelo aku la o Laieikawai, "Auhea oukou e o'u mau hoa, ua kuka ae nei au me ke kupunawahine o kakou, e hoao wau i kane na'u, nolaila wau i houna aku nei i ko kakou kahu e kii aku ia oukou e like me ka kakou hoohiki ana, mahope iho o ko kakou hui ana maanei. O ka makemake o ko kakou kupunawahine, o Kekalukaluokewa kuu kane, a pehea? Aia i ka kakou hooholo like ana, ina i ae mai oukou, ua pono no, ina e hoole mai, aia no ia i ko kakou manao." Olelo aku o Kahalaomapuana, "Ua pono, ua hoomoe ae la no ko kakou kupunawahine e like me kona makemake, aohe a makou olelo. Eia nae, a i hoao oe i ke kane, mai haalele oe ia makou e like me ka kakou hoohiki ana; ma kau wahi e hele ai, malaila pu kakou, o oe i ka pilikia, o kakou pu ilaila." "Aole wau e haalele ia oukou," wahi a Laieikawai. Eia hoi, ua ike mua ae nei kakou ma na Mokuna mua, he mea mau no ia Laieikawai ka iho i kai o Keaau, ma ka moolelo o Hauailiki, a me ka moolelo o ka hele alua ana o Aiwohikupua i Hawaii, a oia mau no a hiki i ko Kekalukaluokewa hiki ana i Hawaii. I na manawa a pau o ko Laieikawai hele ana ma Keaau, he mea mau i keia keiki ia Halaaniani ka ike ia Laieikawai ma Keaau, me ka ike ole nae o Halaaniani i kahi e hele mai ai o Laieikawai; mai ia manawa mai ka hoomaka ana o ka manao ino e ake e loaa o Laieikawai, aole nae e hiki, no ka mea, ua alaila mai e ka hilahila, a hiki ole ke pane aku. A o ua Halaaniani nei, ke kaikunane o Malio, he keiki kaulana ia ma Puna no ke kanaka ui, he keiki _koaka_, nae. I ka eha o na la hoomalu o Laieikawai, he mea hoohuoi ia Halaaniani ka nalo ana o Laieikawai, aole i hiki hou ma Keaau. Ia Halaaniani i hookokoke mai ai ma kahi o na kamaaina o Keaau, lohe iho la oia, e lilo ana ua Laieikawai nei ia Kekalukaluokewa. Ia manawa, hoi wikiwiki aku la oia e halawai me kona kaikuahine me Malio. Olelo aku la kona kaikunane, "E Malio, i pii mai nei wau ia oe e kii oe i ko'u makemake. No ka mea, i na la a pau a'u e nalo nei, ma Keaau no wau, no ko'u ike mau i keia wahine maikai, nolaila, ua hookonokonoia mai wau e ke kuko e hele pinepine e ike i ua wahine nei. A ma keia la, ua lohe aku nei wau e lilo ana i ke Alii o Kauai i ka la apopo; nolaila, o ko mana a pau maluna iho ia o kaua like e lilo ia'u kela kaikamahine." I mai la kona kaikuahine, "Aole na he wahine e, o ka moopuna na a Waka, o Laieikawai, ua haawi ae la ke kupunawahine i ke Alii nui o Kauai, popo hoao. Nolaila, a e like me kou makemake, e hoi nae oe a kou wahi, a ma ke ahiahi poeleele pii hou mai, a mauka nei kaua e moe ai, oia ka manawa o kaua e ike ai i ko nele a me ka loaa." Mamuli o ke kauoha o Malio i kona kaikunane, hoi mai la o Halaaniani a ma kona hale noho ma Kula. A hiki i ka manawa i kauohaia nona e hele aku i kahi o kona kaikuahine. Mamua o ko laua manawa hiamoe, olelo aku la o Malio ia Halaaniani, "Ina e moe kaua i keia po, a i loaa ia oe ka moeuhane, alaila, hai mai oe ia'u, a pela no hoi wau." Ia laua e moe ana, a hiki paha i ka pili o ke ao, ala ae la o Halaaniani, aole i loaa he moe ia ia, a ala mai la no hoi o Malio ia manawa no. MOKUNA XXI Ninau aku o Malio ia Halaaniani, "Heaha kau moe?" I aku la o Halaaniani, "Aole a'u wahi moe, i ka hiamoe ana no, o ke oki no ia, aole wau i loaa wahi moe iki a puoho wale ae la." Ninau aku la hoi o Halaaniani i kona kai kuahine, "Pehea hoi oe?" Hai mai la kona kaikuahine, "Owau ka mea moe; ia kaua no i moe iho nei, hele aku nei no kaua a ma nahelehele, moe oe i kou puhalaau, a owau no hoi ma ko'u puhalaau; nana aku nei ko'u uhane i kekahi wahi manu e hana ana i kona punana, a pau, lele aku nei no ua manu nei ana i kona punana a pau, lele aku nei no ua manu nei nana ka punana a nalowale. A mahope, he manu okoa ka manu nana i lele mai a hoomoe i ua punana nei, aole nae wau i ike i ka lele ana'ku o ka manu hope nana i hoomoe ua punana nei, a puoho wale ae la wau, aole no hoi i ikeia ka hoi hou ana mai o ka manu nana ka punana." A no keia moe, ninau aku la o Halaaniani, "A heaha iho la ke ano o ia moe?" Hai aku la kona kaikuahine i ke ano oiaio o ua moe la, "E pomaikai io ana no oe, no ka mea, o ka manu mua nona ka punana, o Kekalukaluokewa no ia, a o ka punana, o Laieikawai no ia, a o ka manu hope nana i hoomoe ka punana, o oe no ia. Nolaila, ma keia kakahiaka, e lilo ana ka wahine a olua ia oe. Ia Waka e hoouna ae ai ia Laieikawai maluna o ka eheu o na manu, no ka hoao me Kekalukaluokewa; uhi mai auanei ka noe a me ke awa, a mao ae, alaila, ikeia'ku ekolu oukou e ku mai ana ma kuanalu, alaila, e ike auanei oe he mana ko'u e uhi aku maluna o Waka, a ike ole oia i ka'u mea e hana aku ai nou; nolaila, e ku kaua a hele aku ma kahi e kokoke aku ana i kahi e hoao ai o Laieikawai." A pau ka hoike ana a Malio i ke ano o ke ia mau mea, iho aku la laua a ma kahi kupono ia laua e noho ai. O malio nae, he hiki ia ia ke hana i na hana mana; a oia wale no kona kumu i hoano ai. Ia laua i hiki aku ai ma Keaau, ike aku la laua ia Kekalukaluokewa e au ae ana i ka heenalu. Olelo aku la o Malio ia Halaaniani, "E hoolohe oe i ka'u, ina i hiki oukou ma kulana heenalu, a hee oukou i ka nalu, mai hoopae oe, e hoomake oe i kou nalu, pela no oe e hoomake ai a hala na nalu eha o ko laua hee ana, a i ka lima o ka nalu, oia ko laua nalu pau. Malie o hoohuoi laua i kou pae ole, ninau iho i ke kumu o kou pae ole ana, alaila nai aku oe, no ka maa ole i ka hee ana o ka nalu po kopoko, a i ninau mai i kau nalu loihi e hee ai, alaila hai aku oe o Huia. Ina i maliu ole mai kela i kau olelo, a hoomakaukau laua e hee i ko laua nalu pau, ia laua e hee ai, alaila hopu aku oe i na wawae o Laieikawai, i hee aku o Kekalukaluokewa oia wale. A lilo ia oe kela wahine, alaila ahai oe i ka moana loa, nana mai oe ia uka nei, e au aku ana o Kumukahi iloko o ka ale, alaila o ke kulana nalu ia, alaila pule aeoe ma kuu inoa, a na'u no e hoouna aku i nalu maluna o olua, o kou nalu no ia ko kou makemake, lilo loa ia oe." Ia laua no e kamailio ana i keia mau mea, uhi ana ka noe a Waka maluna o ka aina. Ia manawa, kui ka hekili, aia o Laieikawai ma kaluna nalu, na Waka ia. Kui hou ka hekili, o ka lua ia, na Malio ia. I ka mao ana ae o ka noe, aia ekolu poe e lana ana ma kulana nalu e ku ana, a he mea haohao ia ia uka i ka nana aku. E like me ke kauoha a Waka i kana moopuna, "Aole e olelo i na mea e ae, a laa ka ihu ia Kekalukaluokewa, alaila olelo i na mea e ae." Ua hoolohe no kana moopuna i ke kauoha a ke kupunawahine. A ia lakou ekolu ma kulana heenalu, aole kekahi leo i loheia iwaena o lakou. I ke ku ana o ka nalu mua, olelo mai o Kekalukaluokewa, "Pae kakou." Ia manawa, hoomoe like lakou i na papa o lakou, make iho la o Halaaniani, pae aku laua la, oia ka manawa i laa ai ka ihu o Laieikawai ia Kekalukaluokewa, e like me ke kauoha a ke kupunawahine. Ekolu nalu o ka hee ana o lakou, a ekolu no hoi ka pae ana o Laieikawai ma, a e kolu no hoi ka make ana o Halaaniani. I ka ha o ko laua nalu pae, akahi no a loaa ka ninau a Laieikawai ia Halaaniani, me ka i aku, "Heaha kou mea e pae ole nei? Aha nalu, aole ou pae iki, heaha la ke kumu o kou pae ole ana?" "No ka maa ole i ka nalu pokopoko," wahi a Halaaniani, "no ka mea, he nalu loloa ko'u e hee ai." Hai aku la keia e like me ke kauoha a kona kaikuahine. I ka lima o ka nalu, oia ka nalu pau loa o Laieikawai me Kekalukaluokewa. Ia Kekalukaluokewa me Laieikawai i hoomaka ai e hoomoe aku i ka nalu, e hopu aku ana o Halaaniani ma na kapuai o Laieikawai, a lilo mai la ma kona lima, lilo aku la ka papa heenalu o Laieikawai, pae aku la nae o Kekalukaluokewa a kau a kahi maloo. I kela manawa i lilo aku ai o Laieikawai ma ka lima o Halaaniani, olelo aku la ia Halaaniani, "He mea kupanaha, ia oe no ka pae ole ana wau, a lilo aku la ko'u papa." I aku o Halaaniani, "He lilo no ka papa ou o ka wahine maikai, he kanaka ka mea nana e lawe mai." Ia laua no e olelo ana no keia mau mea, laweia mai la ka papa heenalu o Laieikawai a hiki i kahi o laua e ku ana. I aku o Laieikawai ia Halaaniani, "Auhea kau nalu o kau aua ana iho nei ia'u?" A no ka ninau a ke Alii wahine, au aku la laua, ia manawa a laua e au ana, hai aku la o Halaaniani i kana olelo imua o ke Alii wahine, "Ma keia au ana a kaua, mai alawa oe i hope, imua no na maka, aia no ia'u kulana nalu, alaila hai aku au ia oe." Au aku la laua a liuliu loa komo mai la iloko o Laieikawai ka haohao; ia manawa, pane aku oia, "Haohao ka nalu au e ke kane, ke au aku nei kaua i kahi o ka nalu ole, eia kaua i ka moana lewa loa, ke hai ka nalu i keia wahi, he mea kupanaha, he ale ka mea loaa i ka moana loa." I aku o Halaaniani, "E hoolohe pono loa oe, ma ka'u olelo mua ia oe malaila wale no kaua." Hoolohe aku la no o Laieikawai ma na olelo a kona hoa heenalu. Ia au ana a laua a hiki i kahi a Halaaniani e manao ai o kulana nalu ia, alaila, olelo aku la o Halaaniani i kona hoa heenalu, "Nana ia o uka." Pane aku o Laieikawai, "Ua nalo ka aina, ua hele mai nei o Kumukahi a onioni i ka ale." "O kulana nalu keia," wahi a Halaaniani, "Ke olelo aku nei au ia oe, ina i haki ka nalu mua, aole kaua e pae ia nalu, a i ka lua o ka nalu aole no e pae, a i ke kolu o ka nalu, o ka nalu ia o kaua e pae ai. I haki ka nalu, a i kakala, a i oia oe, mai haalele oe i ka papa o ka mea no ia nana e hoolana; ina e haalele oe i ka papa, alaila aole oe e ike ia'u." A pau ka laua kamailio ana no keia mau olelo, pule aku la o Halaaniani i ko laua akua ma ka inoa o kona kaikuahine e like me ka Malio kauoha mua. Pule aku la o Halaaniani a hiki i ka hapalua o ka manawa; ku ana ua nalu, hoomau aku la oia i ka pule a hiki i ka Amama ana. Ku hou ana ua nalu, o ka lua ia, aole i upuupu iho, opuu ana kahi nalu. Ia wa kahea mai o Halaaniani i kona hoa, "Pae kaua." Ia manawa, hoomoe koke o Laieikawai i ka papa, o ka pae aku la no ia, ma ke kokua aku o Halaaniani. I kela manawa, aia no o Laieikawai iloko o ka halehale poipu o ka nalu, a i ka haki maikai ana o ka nalu, i alawa ae ka hana o Laieikawai, aole o Halaaniani me ia. I alawa hou aku o Laieikawai, e kau mai ana o Halaaniani ma ka pea o ka nalu, ma kona akamai nui. Ia manawa ka hoomaka ana o Laieikawai e haawi ia ia iho ia Halaaniani. Hoi aku la laua mai ko laua heenalu ana, me ka ike mai no o Waka i ko laua hee aku, ua kuhi nae o Kekalukaluokewa ko Laieikawai hoa hee nalu. A o Malio, ke kaikuahine o Halaaniani, ua ikeia ma kona kuamoo moolelo, he hiki ia ia ke hana i na hana mana he nui, ma ka Mokuna XXII a me ka Mokuna XXIII e ike ai kakou i ka nui o kana mau hana mana. MOKUNA XXII I kela manawa a Laieikawai me Halaaniani e heenalu ana mai ka moana mai, ua uhiia ko Waka mana e ka mana nui o Malio, a nolaila, ua ike ole o Waka i na mea a pau e hanaia ana o kana moopuna. I kela manawa, i ke kokoke ana aku o Laieikawai ma e pae i ka honua, oia ka manawa a Waka i hoouna mai ai i na manu maloko o ka noe, a i ka mao ana ae, o na papa heenalu wale no ke waiho ana, aia aku la o Laieikawai me Halaaniani iuka o Paliuli ma ko Laieikawai hale, malaila o Halaaniani i lawe ai ia Laieikawai i wahine hoao nana. Ia la a po, mai ka po a ao, a awakea, he mea haohao loa ia Waka no kana moopuna, no ka mea, ua olelo mua aku oia i kana moopuna mamua o kona hoouna ana aku e launa me Kekalukaluokewa. Eia ke kauoha: "Iho oe i keia la, a hui oe me Kekalukaluokewa, hoi mai olua a uka nei, a laa ko kino, alaila, kii ae oe ia'u, na'u no e malama i kou pau no ka hoohaumia ana ia oe." E like me ka mea mau o na kaikamahine punahele. A no keia haohao o Waka, ma ke awakea o ka lua o ka la o ko Laieikawai la hui me Halaaniani, hele aku la ke kupunawahine e ike i ka pono o kana moopuna. I ke kupunawahine i hiki aku ai; aia nae ua pauhia laua e ka hiamoe nui, me he mea la ua lilo ka po i manawa makaala na laua e like me ka mea mau i na mea hou. Ia manawa, iloko o ka wa hiamoe o Laieikawai, i nana iho ka hana o ke kupunawahine, he kane e keia a ka moopuna e moe pu ana, ka mea a ke kupunawahine i ae ole ai. A no keia mea, hoala ae la o Waka i ka moopuna, a ala ae la, ninau iho la ke kupunawahine, "Owai keia?" Olelo ae la ka moopuna, "O Kekalukaluokewa no hoi." I mai la ke kupunawahine me ka inaina, "Aole keia o Kekalukaluokewa, o Halaaniani keia o ke kaikunane o Malio. Nolaila, ke hai aku nei wau i kuu manao paa ia oe, aole wau e ike hou i kou maka e kuu moopuna ma keia hope aku a hiki i kuu la make, no ka mea, ua pale oe i ka'u mau olelo, kainoa wau e ahai nei ia oe ma kahi nalo, e nana mai ana oe ia'u, nolaila, e noho oe me ko kane mamuli o ko wahine maikai, o ko mana, aole ia me oe, he nani ia ua imi aku la no i ke kane, hana pono iho na lima, i kau kane na pono a me kou hanohano." Mahope iho o keia manawa, hoomakaukau ae la o Waka e hana i hale hou i like me ka hale i hanaia no Laieikawai. A ma ka mana o Waka, ua hikiwawe, ua paa ka hale. A makaukau ka hale, iho aku la o Waka e halawai kino me Kekalukaluokewa, no ka mea, ua mokumokuahua kona manawa i ke aloha ia Kekalukaluokewa. A hiki o Waka ma kahi o Kekalukaluokewa, hopu aku la ma na wawae me ka naau kaumaha, a olelo aku la, "He nui kuu kaumaha, a me kuu aloha ia oe e ke Alii, no ka mea, ua upu aku wau i ka'u moopuna o oe ke kane e ola ai keia mau iwi, kainoa he pono ka'u moopuna, aole ka, i ike mai nei ka hana i ka'u moopuna, e moe mai ana me Halaaniani ka mea a ko'u naau i makemake ole ai. Nolaila, i hele mai nei au e noi aku ia oe, e haawi mai oe i waa no'u, a me na kanaka pu mai, e kii wau i ka hanai a Kapukaihaoa, ia Laielohelohe, ua like no a like laua me Laieikawai, no ka mea, ua hanau mahoeia laua." A no keia mea, haawi ae la o Kekalukaluokewa hookahi kaulua, me na kanaka pu no, a me na lako a pau. Mamua o ko Waka kii ana ia Laielohelohe, kauoha iho la oia ia Kekalukaluokewa, "Ke holo nei wau ekolu anahulu me na po keu ekolu, alaila, hiki mai wau. E nana nae oe, a i ku ka punohu i ka moana, alaila, manao ae oe ua hoi mai wau me ko wahine, alaila, hoomalu oe ia oe a hiki i ko olua la e hoao ai." Ma ka manao paa o Waka, ua holo mai la oia a hiki i Oahu nei, ma Honouliuli kau na waa, nana aku la no o Waka, e pio mai ana no ke anuenue iuka o Wahiawa. Lalau iho la oia he wahi puaa, i mea alana aku imua o Kapukaihaoa, ke kahuna nana i malama ia Laielohelohe, a pii aku la. Pii aku la o Waka a hiki i Kukaniloko, hookokoke aku la oia ma kahi i hunaia'i o Laielohelohe, hahau aku la i ka puaa imua o ke kahuna me ka pule ana, a Amama ae la. Kuu aku la i ka puaa imua o ke kahuna. Ninau mai la ke kahuna, "Heaha ka hana a ka puaa imua o'u? A heaha ka'u e hana aku ai ia oe?" I aku o Waka, "Ua hewa ka'u hanai, ua pono ole, ua upu aku wau o ke Alii o Kauai ke kane, aka, aole nae i hoolohe i ka'u olelo, ua lilo aku ia Halaaniani; nolaila, i kii mai nei wau i kau hanai i wahine na Kekalukaluokewa, ke Alii o Kauai, i ku kaua i ka moku, ola na iwi o ko kaua mau la elemakule a hiki i ka make. A loaa ia kaua kela Alii, alaila, ku ka makaia o ka'u hanai, i ike ai ia ua hewa kana hana ana." Olelo mai o Kapukaihaoa, "Ua pono ka puaa, nolaila, ke hookuu aku nei wau i ka'u hanai nau e malama, a loaa ia oe ka pomaikai, a kui mai i o'u nei ka lono ua waiwai oe, alaila, imi aku wau." Ia manawa, komo aku la o Kapukaihaoa me Waka ma kahi kapu, kahi hoi i hunaia'i o Laielohelohe, hoonohoia iho la o Waka, a komo aku la ke kahuna ma kahi i hunaia'i. A laweia mai la a mua o Waka, ia manawa, kulou aku la o Waka imua o Laielohelohe, a hoomaikai aku la. I ka la i laweia'i o Laielohelohe a kau iluna o na waa, ia manawa, lawe ae la ke kahuna i ka piko o kana hanai a lei iho la ma kona ai. Aka, aole i kaumaha kona manao no Laielohelohe, no ka mea, ua manao no ke kahuna he pomaikai e ili mai ana maluna ona. I ka manawa i laweia'i o Laielohelohe, aole kekahi o na kanaka hoewaa i ike aku ia ia a hiki wale i Hawaii. Noho mai la o Kekalukaluokewa me ke kali iloko ka manawa i kauohaia. I kekahi la ma ke kakahiaka, iloko o ko ke Alii manawa i ala mai ai mai ka hiamoe mai, ike ae la oia i ka hoailona a Waka i kauoha ai. No ka mea, aia ka punohu i ka moana. Hoomakaukau ae la o Kekalukaluokewa ia ia iho no ka hiki aku o Laielohelohe, me ka manao e ike mua ana laua i ka la e puka aku ai, aole ka! Ma ka auina la, ike maopopoia aku la na waa, akoakoa ae la na kanaka a pau ma ke awa pae waa e ike i ke Alii, i ka manao e puka aku ana a halawai me ke kane. I ka hookokoke ana aku o na waa ma ke awa, ia manawa ka uhi ana mai o ke ohu, a me ka noe mai Paliuli mai. Ia manawa, kailiia'ku la o Laielohelohe me Waka maloko o ka ohu, maluna o na manu a hiki i Paliuli, a hoonoho ia Laielohelohe ma ka hale i hoomakaukauia nona, malaila oia i noho ai a loaa hou ia Halaaniani. Ekolu mau la o Waka ma Paliuli, mai ka hoi ana mai Oahu aku nei. Iho mai la oia e halawai me Kekalukaluokewa, no ka hoao o na'lii. Ia Waka i hiki aku ai ma ko Kekalukaluokewa wahi, olelo aku la, "Ua hiki mai ko wahine, nolaila, e hoomakaukau oe i kanaha la, e kuahaua aku i na mea a pau, e akoakoa mai ma ko olua wahi e hui ai, e hana i papai kilu, malaila e hoohilahila aku ai ia Laieikawai, i ike ai oia i ka ino o kana hana." Ia ka manawa nae i lawe aku ai o Waka i ka mana maluna o Laieikawai, alaila, kukakuka ae la na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua i ka mea e pono ai ko lakou noho ana; a hooholo ae la ua mau kaikamahine nei i ka lakou olelo e pane aku ai ia Laieikawai. Hele aku la o Kahalaomapuana a hai aku la imua o Laieikawai, me ka i aku, "Ua kukakuka makou, kou mau kiai kino i ka manawa e pono ana ko olua noho ana me ko kupunawahine, a ua lawe aku nei kela i ka hoopomaikaiia mai a oe aku. Nolaila, e like me ko kakou hoohiki ana mamua, "No kekahi o kakou ka pilikia, malaila pu kakou a pau." Nolaila, ua loaa iho nei ia oe ka pilikia, no kakou pu ia pilikia. Nolaila, aole makou e haalele ia oe, aole hoi oe e haalele ia makou a hiki i ko kakou make ana, oia ka makou olelo i hooholo mai nei." A lohe o Laieikawai i keia mau olelo, haule iho la na kulu waimaka no ke aloha i kona mau hoa kuka, me ka i aku, "Kuhi au e haalele ana oukou ia'u i ka laweia'na o ka pomaikai mai o kakou aku, aole ka! a heaha la hoi, a i loaa ka pomaikai ia'u ma keia hope aku, alaila, e hoolilo no wau ia oukou a pau i mau mea nui maluna o'u." Noho iho la o Halaaniani me Laieikawai, he kane, he wahine; a o na kaikuahine no o Aiwohikupua kona mau kanaka lawelawe. I ka aha malama paha o ko laua noho hoao ana, ma kekahi a awakea, puka ae la o Halaaniani mai loko ae o ka hale, i hele aku iwaho, ia manawa, ike aku la oia ia Laielohelohe e puka ae ana mai loko ae o kona hale kapu. Ia manawa, hiki hou ke kuko i loko o Halaaniani. Hoi aku la oia me ka manao ino no kela kaikamahine, me ka manao e kii e hoohaumia. Ia la no, ia laua e noho pono ana me Laieikawai, ia manawa, manao ae la o Halaaniani e kii e hoohaumia ia Laielohelohe, nolaila imi iho la o Halaaniani i hewa no Laieikawai, i mea hoi e kaawale ai laua, alaila, kii aku i kana mea e manao nei. I ka po iho, olelo hoowalewale aku la o Halaaniani ia Laieikawai, me ka i aku, "Ia kaua e noho nei iuka nei mai ko kaua noho ana iuka nei a hiki i keia manawa, aole he pau o ko'u lealea i ka heenalu, aia awakea, kau mai ia'u ka lealea, pela i na la a pau, nolaila, ke manao nei au apopo kaua iho i kai o Keaau i ka heenalu a hoi mai no hoi." "Ae," wahi a ka wahine. Ia kakahiaka ana ae, hele aku la o Laieikawai imua o kona mau hoa kuka, na kaikuahine hoi o Aiwohikupua, hai aku la i ko laua manao me ke kane i kuka ai ia po, a he mea maikai no ia i kona mau hoa kuka. I aku nae o Laieikawai i ua mau hoa la, "Ke iho nei maua i kai ma ka makemake o ke kane a kakou, i kali ae oukou a i anahulu maua, mai hoohuoi oukou, aole no i pau ka lealea heenalu o ka kakou kane, aka hoi, i hala ke anahulu me ka po keu, alaila ua pono ole maua, alaila, huki ae oukou ia'u." A hala aku la laua, a hiki i kahi e kokoke aku ana i Keaau, ia manawa, hoomaka o Halaaniani e hana i ke kalohe ia Laieikawai, me ka olelo aku, "E iho mua aku oe o kaua, a hiki i kai e pii ae au e ike i ko kaikoeke (Malio) a hoi mai wau. A ina i kali oe ia'u a i po keia la, a ao ka po, a i po hou ua la, alaila, manao ae oe ua make wau, alaila, moe hou aku oe i kane hou." A no keia olelo a kana kane, aua aku ka wahine, a i ole, e pii pu no laua, a no ka pakela loa o Halaaniani i ke akamai i ka hoopuka i na olelo pahee, ua puni kana wahine maikai ia ia. Hala aku la o Halaaniani, iho aku la no hoi o Laieikawai a hiki i Keaau, ma kahi kaawale ae i pili ole aku ia Kekalukaluokewa, noho iho la oia malaila; a po ia la, aole i hoi mai kana kane, mai ia po a ao, aole i hoi mai. Kali hou aku la ia la a po, pale ka pono, alaila, manao ae la o Laieikawai ua make kana kane, alaila, ia manawa, hoomaka aku la ia i ka uwe paiauma no kana kane. MOKUNA XXIII He mea kaumaha loa ia Laieikawai no ka make ana o kana kane, nolaila i kanikau ai oia hookahi anahulu me elua mau la keu (umikumamalua la), no ke aloha ia ia. Iloko o keia mau la kanikau o Laieikawai, he mea haohao loa ia i kona mau hoa kuka, no ka mea, ua kauoha mua o Laieikawai mamua o ko laua iho ana i kai o Keaau. "He umikumamakahi la e kali ai" kona mau hoa ia ia, a i "hoi ole aku" i na la i kauohaia e like me ka kakou kamailio ana ae nei ma ka Mokuna XXII, alaila, maopopo ua pono ole. A no ka hala ana o ka manawa a Laieikawai i kauoha ai i kona mau hoa, nolaila, ala ae la na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua i ke kakahiaka nui o ka umikumamalua o ka la iho aku la e ike i ka pono o ko lakou hoa. A hiki lakou ma Keaau, ia lakou e kokoke aku ana e hiki, ike mua mai la o Laieikawai i kona mau hoa, paiauma mai la me ka uwe. Aka, he mea haohao nae ia i kona mau hoa ka uwe ana, a ua akaka kana kauoha "ua pono ole, laua." Ma ka uwe ana a Laieikawai, a me na helehelena o ka poina; no ka mea, aia o Laieikawai e kukuli ana i ka honua, a o kekahi limu, ua pea ae la ma ke kua, a o kekahi lima, aia ma ka lae, a uwe helu aku la oia penei: O oukou ia--e, auwe! Eia wau la, Ua haalulu kuu manawa, Ua nei nakolo i ke aloha, I ka hele o ke kane he hoa pili--e! Ua hala--e. Ua hala kuu lehua ala Kookoolau, I ka nae kolopua, Ulili nae o olopua, Haihai pua o kuu manawa--e. Ei--e. Eia wau la ua haiki, Ua kupu lia halia i ka mana--o--e, Ke hoopaele mai nei i kuu manawa, I ke aloha--la, Auwe kuu ka--ne. A lohe kona mau hoa i keia uwe a Laieikawai, uwe like ae la lakou a pau. A pau ka lakou pihe uwe, olelo mai la o Kahalaomapuana, "He mea kupanaha, ia kakou e uwe nei, o ka hamama wale iho no ka ko'u waha, aole a kahe mai o ka waimaka, o ke kaea pu wale ae la no ia, me he mea la i pania mai ka waimaka." I mai la na kaikuaana, "Heaha la?" I aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "Me he mea la aole i poino ka kakou kane." Olelo mai la o Laieikawai, "Ua make, no ka mea, ia maua no i iho mai ai a mauka ae nei la, o ka hiki mai no hoi ia i kai nei, olelo mai no kela ia'u, 'e iho e oe mamua, e pii ae au e ike i ko kaikoeke, e kali nae oe ia'u a i po keia la, a ao ka po, a po hou ua la, alaila, ua make au,' pela kana kauoha ia'u. Kali iho nei wau a hala kona manawa i kauoha ai, manao ae nei au ua make, oia wau i noho iho nei a hiki wale mai nei oukou la e uwe aku ana wau." I mai la o Kahalaomapuana, "Aole i make, nanaia aku i keia la, ua oki ka uwe." A no keia olelo a Kahalaomapuana, kakali aku la lakou a hala na la eha, aole lakou i ike i ke ko o ka Kahalaomapuana mea i olelo ai. Nolaila, hoomau hou aku la o Laieikawai i ka uwe i ke ahiahi o ke kolu o ka la a po, mai ia po a wanaao, akahi no a loaa ia ia ka hiamoe. Ia Laieikawai i hoomaka iho ai e hookau hiamoe, ku ana no o Halaaniani me ka wahine hou, a hikilele ae la o Laieikawai, he moeuhane ka. Ia manawa no, ua loaa ia Mailehaiwale he moeuhane, ala ae la oia a kamailio aku la ia Mailelaulii a me Mailekaluhea i keia moe. E kamailio ana no lakou no kela moe, ia manawa, puoho mai la o Laieikawai, a hai mai la i kana moe. I aku la o Mailelaulii, "O ka makou no hoi ia e kamailio nei, he moe no Mailehaiwale." E hahai ana no lakou i na moeuhane, puoho mai la o Kahalaomapuana mai ka hiamoe mai, a ninau mai i ka lakou mea e kamailio ana. Hai mai la o Mailehaiwale i ka moe i loaa ia ia, "I uka no i Paliuli, hele ae la no o Halaaniani a lawe ae ana no ia oe, (Kahalaomapuana,) a hele aku nei no olua ma kahi e aku, ku aku nei ko'u uhane nana ia olua, hikilele wale ae nei no hoi au." Hai ae la no hoi o Laieikawai i kana moe, i mai la o Kahalaomapuana, "Aole i make o Halaaniani, kali aku kakou, mai uwe, hoopau waimaka." A no keia mea, hooki loa ae la o Laieikawai i kana uwe ana, hoi aku la lakou iuka o Paliuli. (Ma keia wahi, e kamailio kakou no Halaaniani, a maanei kakou e ike ai i kona kalohe launa ole.) Ma kela olelo a Halaaniani ia Laieikawai e pii e halawai me Malio. Ia laua i hookaawale ai mahope iho o ka Halaaniani kauoha ana ia ia. Pii aku la oia a halawai pu me Malio, ninau mai la kona kaikuahine, "Heaha kau o uka nei?" I aku la o Halaaniani, "I pii hou mai nei wau ia oe, e hooko mai oe i ko'u makemake, no ka mea, ua ike hou au he kaikamahine maikai i like kona helehelena me ko Laieikawai. "Ma ke awakea o nehinei, ia'u i puka ae ai iwaho mai ko maua hale ae. Ike aku la wau i keia kaikamahine opiopio i maikai kona mau helehelena; nolaila, ua pauhia mai wau e ka makemake nui. "A no ko'u manao o oe no ka mea nana e hoopomaikai nei ia'u ma na mea a'u e makemake ai, nolaila wau i hiki hou mai nei." I aku o Malio i kona kaikunane, "O Laielohelohe na, o kekahi moopuna a Waka, ua hoopalauia na Kakalukaluokewa, a wahine haoa. Nolaila, a hele oe e makai i ka hale o ua kaikamahine la me ko ike oleia mai, i eha la au e makai aku ai, a ike oe i kana hana mau, alaila, hoi mai oe a hai mai ia'u, alaila, na'u e hoouna aku ia oe e hoowalewale i ua kaikamahine la. Aole e loaa ia'u ma kuu mana, no ka mea, elua laua." A no keia olelo a Malio, hele aku la o Halaaniani e hoohalua mau mawaho o ko Laielohelohe hale me kona ike oleia mai, kokoke alua anahulu kona hookalua ana, alaila, ike oia i ka Laielohelohe hana, he kui lehua. Hoomau pinepine aku la oia a nui na la, aia no oia e hoomau ana i kana hana he kui lehua. Hoi aku la o Halaaniani e halawai me ke kaikuahine e like me kana kauoha, a hai aku la i na mea ana i ike ai no Laielohelohe. A lohe o Malio i keia mau mea, alaila, hai aku la oia i na mea hiki ke hanaia aku no Laielohelohe e kona kaikunane, me ka i aku ia Halaaniani, "E hoi oe a ma ka waenakonu o ka po, alaila, pii mai oe i o'u nei, i hele aku ai kaua ma kahi o Laielohelohe." Hoi aku la o Halaaniani, a kokoke i ka manawa i kauo haia nona, alaila, ala mai la oia a halawai me kona kaikuahine. Lalau ae la kona kaikuahine i ka pu la-i, a hele aku la me kona kaikunane, a kokoke aku la laua ma kahi a Laielohelohe e kui lehua mau ai. Ia manawa, olelo aku la o Malio ia Halaaniani, "E pii oe maluna o kekahi laau, ma kahi ou e ike aku ana ia Laielohelohe, a malaila oe e noho ai. E hoolohe mai oe i ke kani aku a kuu pu la-i, elima a'u puhi ana, ina ua ike oe e a-u ana kona maka i kahi i kani aku ai ka pu la-i, alaila ka hoi loaa ia kaua, aka hoi, i aluli ole ae kona mau maka i kuu hookani aku, alaila, aole e loaa ia kaua i keia la." Ia laua no e kamailio ana no keia mau mea, uina mai ana kahi a ua o Laielohelohe e kui lehua ai, i nana aku ka hana o laua, o Laielohelohe e haihai lehua ana. Ia manawa, pii ae la o Halaaniani ma kekahi kumu laau a nana aku la. Ia ianei maluna o ka laau, kani ana ka pu la-i a Malio, kani hou aku la o ka lua ia, pela a hiki i ka lima o ke kani ana o ka pu la-i, aole o Halaaniani i ike iki ua huli ae ka maka a hoolohe i keia mea kani. Kali mai la o Malio o ka hoi aku o Halaaniani e hai aku i kana mea i ike ai, aole nae i hoi aku, nolaila, hoomau hou aku la o Malio i ke puhi i ka pu la-i elima hookani ana, aole no i ike iki o Halaaniani i ka nana o Laielohelohe i keia mea, a hoi wale no. Hoi aku la o Halaaniani a kamailio aku i kona kaikuahine, i mai la kona kaikuahine, "Loaa ole ae la ia kaua i ka pu la-i, i kuu hano aku ia loaa?" Hoi aku la laua ma ko laua wahi, a ma kekahi kakahiaka ae, hiki hou no laua i kahi mua a laua i hoohalua ai. Ia laua nei a hiki iho, hiki ana no o Laielohelohe ma kona wahi mau. Mamua nae o ko laua hiki ana aku, ua hai mua aku o Malio i kana olelo i kona kaikunane penei: "E haku oe i lehua, e huihui a lilo i mea hookahi, aia lohe oe i kuu hookani aku i ka hano, oia kou wa e hookuu iho ai i kela popo lehua iluna pono ona, malia o hoohuoi kela ia mea." Pii ae la o Halaaniani iluna o kekahi laau ma kahi kupono ia Laielohelohe. Ia wa no, kani aku la ka hano a Malio, ia wa no hoi ko Halaaniani hoolei ana iho i ka popo lehua mai luna iho o ka laau, a haule pololei iho la ma ke alo ponoi o Laielohelohe. Ia manawa, alawa pono ae la na maka o Laielohelohe iluna, me ka olelo ae, "Ina he kane oe ka mea nana keia makana, a me keia hano e kani nei, alaila, na'u oe, ina he wahine oe, alaila i aikane oe na'u." A lohe o Halaaniani i keia olelo, he mea manawa ole ia noho ana ilalo e hui me kona kaikuahine. Ninau mai o Malio, hai aku la oia i kana mea i ike ai no Laielohelohe. I aku o Malio ia Halaaniani, "E hoi kaua a kakahiaka hiki hou mai kaua ianei, ia manawa e lohe maopopo aku ai kaua i kona manao." Hoi aku la laua, a ma kekahi kakahiaka ana ae, pii hou aku la, Ia laua i hiki aku ai a noho iho, hiki mai la o Laielohelohe ma kona wahi mau e kui lehua ai. Ia manawa, hookani aku la o Malio i ka hano ia Laielohelohe e hoomaka aku ana e ako lehua, aole nae e hiki, no ka mea, ua lilo loa o Laielohelohe i ka hoolohe i ka mea kani. Ekolu hookani ana a Malio i ka hano. Ia manawa no, pane mai o Laielohelohe, "Ina he wahine oe ka mea nana keia hano, alaila, e honi no kaua." A no keia olelo a Laielohelohe, hoopuka aku la o Malio imua o Laielohelohe, a ike mai la kela ia ianei, a he mea malihini hoi ia i ko Laielohelohe mau maka. Ia wa, hoomaka mai la kela e hooko e like me kana olelo mua ma ka honi ana o laua. A no ka hahai ana mai o Laielohelohe e honi me Malio, i aku o Malio, "Alia kaua e honi, me kuu kaikunane mua oe e honi aku ai, a pau ko olua manawa, alaila, honi aku kaua." I mai o Laielohelohe, "E hoi oe a kou kaikunane, mai hoike mai ia ia imua o'u, e hoi olua ma ko olua wahi, mai hele hou mai. No ka mea, o oe wale no ka'u mea i ae aku e haawi i ko'u aloha nou ma ko kaua honi ana, aole au i ae me kekahi mea e ae. Ina e hooko au i kau noi, alaila, ua kue wau i ka olelo a ko'u mea nana e malama maikai nei." A lohe o Malio i keia olelo, hoi aku la a hai i kona kaikunane, me ka i aku, "Ua nele ae nei kaua i keia la; aka, e hoao wau ma kuu mana, i ko ai kou makemake." Hoi aku la laua a hiki i ka hale, ia manawa, kena ae la oia ia Halaaniani e hele e makai aku ia Laieikawai. Ia Halaaniani i hiki ai ma Keaau, mamuli o ke kauoha a kona kaikuahine, aole oia i ike a i lohe hoi no Laieikawai. MOKUNA XXIV Ia manawa nae ana i hiki aku ai, lohe iho la o Halaaniani, he la nui no Kekalukaluokewa, he la hookahakaha, no ka hoao o Laielohelohe me ua Kekalukaluokewa nei. A maopopo iho la ia Halaaniani ka la hookahakaha o na'lii, hoi aku la oia a hai aku i kona kaikuahine no keia mea. Ia Malio i lohe ai, olelo ae la oia i kona kaikunane, "A hiki i ka la hookahakaha o Kekalukaluokewa me Laielohelohe, oia ka la e lilo ai o Laielohelohe ia oe." A he mea mau hoi i na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua ka iho i kai o Keaau e hoohalua ai no ka lakou kane, no ka make a make ole paha. I ua mau kaikuahine nei o Aiwohikupua e iho ana i Keaau, lohe lakou he la nui no Kekalukaluokewa me Laielohelohe. I ke kokoke ana aku i ua la nui nei, iho aku la o Waka mai Paliuli aku e halawai me Kekalukaluokewa a olelo aku la o Waka ia Kekaluka luokewa: "Apopo, i ka puka ana o ka la, e kuahaua oe i na kanaka a pau, a me kou alo alii e hele aku ma kahi au i hoomakaukau ai no ka hookahakaha, malaila e akoakoa ai na mea a pau. Ia manawa e hele aku oe e hoike mua ia oe, a kokoke aku i ke awakea, alaila, e hoi oe i kou hale; aia a hiki aku mahope iho o ka auina la, ia manawa, e hoouhi aku wau i ka noe maluna o ka aina, a maluna hoi o kahi e akoakoa ai na kanaka. "Aia a hoomaka mai ke poi ana o ka noe ma ka aina, alaila, e kali oe ia wa, a lohe oe i ka leo ikuwa a na manu a haalele wale; kali hou aku oe ia wa, a lohe hou oe i ka leo ikuwa hou o na manu a haalele wale. "A mahope oia manawa, e hoopau aku no wau i ka noe maluna o ka aina. Alaila, e nana oe ia uka o Paliuli, i pii ka ohu a uhi iluna o na kuahiwi, ia manawa e uhi hou ana ka noe e like me mamua. "E kali oe ia manawa, ina e lohe oe i ke keu a ka Alae, a me ka leo o ka Ewaewaiki e hoonene ana. Ia manawa, e puka oe mai ka hale nei aku, a ku mawaho o ke anaina. "Hoolohe oe a e kupinai ana ka leo o na manu Oo a haalele, alaila, ua makaukau wau e hoouna mai ia Laielohelohe. "Aia kupinai mai ka leo o na Iiwipolena, alaila, aia ko wahine ma ke kihi hema o ka aha. A ma ia hope koke iho oia manawa, e lohe auanei oe i ka leo o na Kahuli e ikuwa ana, ia manawa e hui ai olua ma ke kaawale. "Ia olua e hui ana, hookahi hekili e kui ia manawa, nakolo ka honua, haalulu ka aha a pau. Ia manawa, e hoouna aku wau ia oula maluna o na manu, a mao ae ka ohu a me ka noe, aia olua e kau aku ana iluna o na manu me ko olua nani nui. Ia manawa e ku ai ka makaia o Laieikawai, i ike ai oia i kona hilahila a holo aku me he pio kauwa la." A pau keia mau mea, hoi aku la o Waka iuka o Paliuli. Mamua iho nei, ua oleloia ua hiki aku o Halaaniani i Keaau, e ike i ka pono o kana wahine (Laieikawai), a ua oleloia no hoi, ua lohe oia he la hookahakaha no Kekalukaluokewa me Laielohelohe. I kela la a Waka i hiki ai i Keaau e halawai me Kekalukaluokewa, e like me ka kakou ike ana maluna ae. Oia no ka la a Malio i olelo aku ai ia Halaaniani e hoomakaukau no ka iho e ike i ka la hookahakaha o Laielohelohe ma; me ka i aku nae o Malio i kona kaikunane, "Apopo, i ka la hookahakaha o Laielohelohe me Kekalukaluokewa, ia manawa e lilo ai o Laielohelohe ia oe, no laua auanei ka hekili ekui, a mao ae ka ohu a me ka noe, alaila, e ike auanei ka aha a pau, o oe a me Laielohelohe ke kau pu mai iluna o ka eheu o na manu." I ke kakahiaka nui o kekahi la ae, oia hoi ka la hookahakaha o ua mau Alii nei, kiiia aku la o Kihanuilulumoku, a hele mai la imua o na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua kona mau kahu nana e malama. A hiki mai la ua moo nui nei, olelo aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "I kiiia aku nei oe e lawe ae oe ia makou i kai o Keaau, e nana makou i ka la hookahakaha o Kekalukaluokewa, aia a hiki i ka auina la a mahope iho oia manawa e kii mai oe a iho aku kakou." Hoi aku la o Kihanuilulumoku, a hiki i ka manawa i kauohaia'i, a hele mai la. I ua moo nei i hoomaka ai e hele mai imua o kona mau Haku, aia hoi, ua uhi paaia ka aina i ka noe mai uka o Paliuli a puni ka aina; aka, aole i wikiwiki o Kihanuilulumoku i ka lawe i kona mau Haku, no ka mea, ua maopopo no ia Kihanuilulumoku ka manawa e hui ai na'lii. A ike o Kekalukaluokewa i keia noe i uhi mua mai maluna o ka aina, alaila, hoomanao ae la ia i ke kauoha a Waka. Kakali hou aku la no oia i na hoailona i koe. Mahope iho oia manawa, lohe ae la kela i ka leo o ka Ewaewaiki a me ke Kahuli, ia manawa, puka aku la o Kekalukaluokewa mai kona hale aku a ku mawaho o ka aha, ma kahi kaawale. I kela manawa, oia ka manawa a Kihanuilulumoku i kuu aku ai i kona alelo i waho i noho iho ai o Laieikawai me na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua. A i ke kui ana o ka leo o ka hekili, uhi ka ohu a me ka noe, a i ka mao ana ae, i nana aku ka hana o ka aha, aia o Laielohelohe me Halaaniani e kau mai ana iluna o na manu. Ia manawa no hoi, ikeia mai la o Laieikawai me na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua e kau mai ana iluna o ke alelo o Kihanuilulumoku ka moo nui o Paliuli. Ia lakou i hiki ai i kela manawa hookahi me na mea nona ka la hookahakaha; aia hoi ua ike aku la o Laieikawai ia Halaaniani aole i make, alaila, hoomanao ae la oia i ka olelo wanana a Kahalaomapuana. I kela manawa a Kekalukaluokewa i ike aku ai e kau mai ana o Halaaniani me Laielohelohe iluna o na manu, alaila, manao ae la o Kekalukaluokewa i kona nele ia Laielohelohe. Ia manawa, pii aku la o Kekalukaluokewa iuka o Paliuli, e hai aku i keia mea ia Waka. A hai aku la o Kakalukaluokewa ia Waka i keia mau mea, "Ua lilo o Laielohelohe ia Halaaniani, aia oia ke kau pu la me Halaaniani i keia manawa." I mai la o Waka, "Aole e lilo ia ia, aka, e iho aku kaua a kokoke aku wau i ka aha, ina ua haawi aku oia i kona ihu e honi aku ia Halaaniani, ka mea a'u i kauoha aku ai aole e lilo i ka mea e ae, a ia oe wale no e laa'i ka ihu o kuu moopuna, a laa pu no hoi me konakino, alaila, ua nele kaua i ka wahine ole, alaila, e lawe aku oe ia'u i ka lua me ko minamina ole. Aka hoi, ua hoolohe aku la ia i ka'u kauoha, aole e lilo i kakahi mea e ae, aole no hoi e lilo ka leo ma kona pane ole aku ia Halaaniani, alaila, ua wahine no oe, ua hoolohe no kuu moopuna i ka'u olelo." Ia laua i kokoke e hiki aku, hoouna aku la o Waka i ka noe a me ka ohu maluna o ka aha, a ike ole kekahi i kekahi. Ia manawa i hoouna aku ai o Waka ia Kekalukaluokewa maluna o na manu, a i ka mao ana ae o ka noe, aia hoi e kau pu mai ana o Laielohelohe me Kekalukaluokewa iluna o na manu, alaila, uwa ae la ke anaina kanaka a puni ka ha, "Hoao na'lii e! hoao na'lii e!!" A lohe o Waka i keia pihe uwa, alaila, hiki mai la o Waka imua o ka aha, a ku mai la iwaenakonu o ke anaina, a hoopuka mai la i olelo hoohilahila no Laieikawai. A lohe o Laieikawai i keia leo hoohilahila a Waka ia ia, walania iho la kona naau, a me na kaikuahine pu kekahi o Aiwohikupua, ia manawa, lawe aku la ke alelo o Kihanuilulumoku ia lakou a noho iuka o Olaa, oia ka hoomaka ana o Laieikawai e hoaaia i kona hilahila nui no ka olelo a Waka, a hele pu no hoi me kona mau hoa. I kela la, hoao ae la o Kekalukaluokewa me Laielohelohe, a hoi aku la iuka o Paliuli a hiki i ko lakou hoi ana i Kauai. A lilo iho la a Halaaniani i mea nele loa, aole ona kamailio i koe. A ma ko ke Alii kane manaopaa, e hoi no i Kauai, lawe ae la oia i kana wahine, a me ko laua kupunawahine i Kauai, o na kanaka pu me lakou. A makaukau lakou e hoi, haalele lakou ia Keaau, hiki mua lakou i Oahu nei, ma Honouliuli, a lawe ae la ia Kapukaihaoa me lakou i Kauai, a hiki lakou i Kauai, ma Pihanakalani, a ili ae la ka hooponopono o na aina, a me ke aupuni ia Kapukaihaoa, a hooliloia iho la o Waka oia ke kolu o ka hooilina o ka noho alii. (Ma keia wahi, e kamailio kakou no Laieikawai, a me kona loaa ana i ka Makaula ia Hulumaniani.) Ia Laieikawai ma ma Olaa, e noho ana no oia me kona nani, aka, o ka mana noho iluna o ka eheu o na manu, oia ka mea i kaawale mai o Laieikawai aku, koe no nae kekahi mau kahiko e ae, a me kekahi mau hoailona alii ia ia, mamuli o ka mana i loaa i na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua, mai a Kihanuilulumoku ae. MOKUNA XXV Ia Laieikawai ma i hoi aku ai mai Keaau aku, mahope iho o kona hoohilahila ana o Waka, a noho ma Olaa. Ia manawa, kukakuka ae la na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua i ka mea hiki ke hooluolu aku i ka naau kaumaha o ke alii (Laieikawai) no kona hilahila i ka olelo kumakaia a Waka. Hele aku la lakou a hai aku la i ka lakou olelo hooholo i kuka ai imua o Laieikawai me ka i aku: "E ke Alii wahine o ka lai; ua kukakuka ae nei makou i mea e hoopau ai i kou naau kaumaha no kou hoohilahilaia, aka, aole o oe wale kai kaumaha, o kakou like no a pau, no ka mea, ua komo like kakou a pau no ia pilikia hookahi. "Nolaila, e ke Alii e, ke noi aku nei makou ia oe, e pono no e hoopauia kou naau kaumaha, no ka mea, e hiki mai ana ia oe ka pomaikai ma keia manawa aku. "Ua hooholo ae nei makou i pomaikai like no kakou, ua ae ae nei ko kakou kaikaina e kii aku ia Kaonohiokala i kane nau, he keiki Alii e noho la i Kealohilani, ua hoonohoia ma ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti, he kaikunane no no kakou, ko Aiwohikupua mea nana i hoalii mai ia ia. "Ina e ae oe e kiiia ko kakou kaikunane, alaila, e loaa ia kakou ka hanohano nui i oi aku mamua o keia, a e lilo auanei oe i mea kapu ihiihi loa, me ko launa ole mai ia makou, a oia ka makou i noonoo iho nei, a ae oe, alaila, ku kou makaia, hilahila o Waka." I mai la o Laieikawai, "Ua ae no wau e hoopau i ko'u kaumaha hilahila, a hookahi a'u mea ae ole, o kuu lilo ana i wahine na ko kakou kaikunane; no ka mea, ke olelo mai nei oukou, he Alii kapu kela, a ina paha e hoao maua, pehea la wau e ike hou ai ia oukou, no ka mea, he Alii kapu kela, a oia ka'u mea minamina loa, o ko kakou launa pu ana." I aku la kona mau hoa, "Mai manao mai oe ia makou, e nana oe i ka olelo hoohilahila a ko kupunawahine, aia ku kona makaia, alaila pono makou, no ka mea, o oe no ka makou mea manao nui." A no keia mea, hooholo ae la o Laieikawai i kona ae. Ia manawa, hai mai la o Kahalaomapuana i kana olelo kauoha ia Laieikawai, a me kona mau kaikuaana, "Ke kii nei au i ko kakou kaikunane i kane na ke Alli, e pono ia oukou ke malama pono i ko kakou Haku, ma kana wahi e hele ai, malaila oukou, na mea ana a pau e makemake ai, oia ka oukou e hooko aku; aka, koe nae ka maluhia o kona kino a hiki mai maua me ke kaikunane o kakou." Mahope iho o keia mau mea, haalele iho la o Kahalaomapuana i kona mau kaikuaana, a kau aku la maluna o ua moo nui nei (Kihanuilulumoku), a kii aku la ia Kaonohiokala. (Ma keia wahi, e waiho iki i ke kamailio ana no keia mea. E pono ia kakou e kamailio no Laieikawai, a me kona loaa ana i ka Makaula nana i ike mai Kauai mai, e like me ka mea i oleloia ma na Mokuna mua elua o keia Kaao.) Mahope iho o ko Kahalaomapuana haalele ana i kona mau kaikuaana, kupu ae la iloko o Laieikawai ka manao makemake e kaapuni ia Hawaii. A no keia manao o Laieikawai, hooko aku la kona mau hoa i ko ke Alii makemake, a hele aku la e kaapuni ia Hawaii a puni. Ma keia huakai kaapuni a ke Alii, ma Kau mua, ma Kona, a hiki lakou ma Kaiopae i Kohala, ma ka aoao akau mai Kawaihae mai, aneane elima mile ka loihi mai Kawaihae ae, malaila lakou i noho ai i kekahi mau la, no ka mea, ua makemake iho la ke Alii wahine e hooluolu malaila. Iloko o ko lakou mau la malaila, ike mai la ka Makaula i ka pio a keia anuenue i kai, me he mea la i Kawaihae ponoi la. I uka nae o Ouli, ma Waimea, kahi a ka Makaula i ike mai ai. No ka mea, ua oleloia ma na Mokuna mua ae nei, ua hiki ka Makaula ma Hilo, i Kaiwilahilahi; a ua loihi no na makahiki malaila o ke kali ana i kana mea i imi ai. Aka, no ka hiki ole i ua Makaula nei ke kali no kana mea i imi ai, nolaila, hoopau ae la oia i kona manao kali a me ka imi aku no kana mea i ukali mai ai mai Kauai mai. Nolaila, haalele keia ia Hilo, a manao ae la oia e hoi loa i Kauai, a hoi aku la. Iloko nae o ko ka Makaula hoi ana, aole oia i haalele i kana mau mea i lawe mai ai mai Kauai mai (oia ka puaa, a me ka moa). Ma keia hoi ana, a hiki ma Waimea, i Ouli, oia ka ka Makaula ike ana aku i ka pio a ke anuenue i kai o Kawaihae. A no ka maluhiluhi o ua Makaula nei, aole oia i wikiwiki mai e ike i ke ano o ke anuenue, nolaila, hoomaha iho la oia malaila. A ma kekahi la ae, aole oia i ike hou i kela hoailona. Ma kekahi la ae, haalele ka Makaula ia wahi, oia la no hoi ka la a Laieikawai ma i haalele ai ia kaiopae, hoi aku la a mauka o Kahuwa, ma Moolau ko lakou wahi i noho ai. I ka Makaula i hiki mai ai i Puuloa mai Waimea mai, ike aku la oia e pio ana ke anuenue i Moolau, ia manawa, haupu iki ae la ka manao o ka Makaula me ka nalu ana iloko ona iho, "O kuu mea no paha keia i imi mai nei." Hoomau mai la ka Makaula i kona hele ana a hiki iluna pono o Palalahuakii, alaila, ike maopopo aku la oia i ke ano o ke anuenue, me ka hoomaopopo iloko ona, a ike lea i kana mea e imi nei. Ia manawa, pule aku la oia i kona akua, e hai mai i ke ano o kela anuenue ana e ike nei; aka, aole i loaa i kona akua ka hookoia o kana pule. Haalele ka Makaula ia wahi, hiki aku la oia ma Waika a malaila oia i noho ai, no ka mea, ua poeleele iho la. Ma ke kakahiaka ana ae, aia hoi, e pio ana ke anuenue i kai o Kaiopae, no ka mea, ua iho aku o Laieikawai ilaila. Ia manawa, iho aku la ka Makaula a hiki i kahi ana e ike nei i ke anuenue, a i ka hookokoke ana aku o ua Makaula nei, ike maopopo aku la oia ia Laieikawai, e kono mau ana i ka lae kahakai. He mea e ka wahine maikai, aia iluna pono o ua kaikamahine nei e pio ana ke anuenue. Ia manawa, pule aku la ka Makaula i kona akua, e hoike mai ia ia i keia wahine, o kana mea paha e imi nei, aole paha. Aka, aole i loaa ka hoike ana ma ona la, nolaila, aole ka Makaula i waiho i kana mau mohai imua o Laieikawai, hoi aku la ka Makaula a noho mauka o Waika. I kekahi la ae, haalele ka Makaula ia wahi, hiki aku la keia ma Lamaloloa, a noho iho la malaila. Ia manawa, komo pinepine ae la oia iloko o ka Heiau i Pahauna, malaila oia i pule hoomau ai i kona akua. Ua loihi na la mahope iho o ka noho ana o Laieikawai ma Moolau, haalele lakou ia wahi. Hele aku la lakou a noho ma Puakea, a no kahi heenalu malaila, noloila, ia lakou malaila e makaikai ana i ka heenalu ana a na kamaaina, ua nanea loa lakou malaila. Ma kekahi la ae, ma ke awakea, i ka wa e lailai ana ka la maluna o ka aina. Ia wa ka Makaula i puka ae ai mailoko ae o ka Heiau, mahope iho o ka pau ana o kana pule. Aia hoi, ike aku la oia e pio ana ke anuenue i kai o Puakea, iho aku la ua Makaula nei a hiki ilaila, ike aku la oia, ke kaikamahine no ana i ike mua ai i Kaiopae. A no keia mea, emi hope mai la oia a ma ke kaawale, pule hou aku la i kona akua e hoike mai i kana mea e imi nei; aka, aole no i loaa ka hoike ana ma ona la. A no ka hooko ole ia o kana mea e noi nei i kona akua, aneane oia e hoohiki ino aku i kona akua; aka, hoomanawanui no oia. Hoopuka loa aku la a ma kahi o Laieikawai ma e noho ana. He mea pilikia loa i ka Makaula ka ike ana aku ia Laieikawai, a ia lakou ma kahi hookahi, ninau aku la ka Makaula ia Laieikawai ma, "Heaha ka oukou mea e noho nei maanei, aole he au pu me na kamaaina heenalu mai?" "He mea hiki ole ia makou ke hele aku," wahi a Laieikawai, "he pono e nana aku i ka na kamaaina heenalu ana." Ninau hou aku ka Makaula, "Heaha ka oukou hana maanei?" "E noho ana makou maanei, e kali ana i waa, ina he waa e holo ai i Maui, Molokai, Oahu, a hiki i Kauai, alaila, holo makou." Pela aku o Laieikawai ma. A no keia olelo, i aku ka Makaula, "Ina e holo ana oukou i Kauai, alaila, aia ia'u ka waa, he waa uku ole." I aku la o Laieikawai, "A ina e kau makou ma ko waa, aole anei au hana e ae no makou?" I aku la ka Makaula, "Auhea oukou, mai manao oukou i kuu olelo ana, e kau wale oukou maluna o kuu waa, e hoohaumia aku ana au ia oukou; aka, o ko'u makemake, e lilo oukou i mau kaikamahine na'u, me he mau kaikamahine ponoi la, i lilo ai oukou i mea nana e hookaulana i ko'u inoa, aia a lilo oukou i mea e kaulana ai au, alaila, e ola auanei ko'u inoa. Na Kaikamahine a Hulumaniani, aia la, ola kuu inoa, pela wale iho la no ko'u makemake?" Ia manawa, imi ae la ka Makaula i waa, a loaa ia ia he kaulua, me na kanaka pu no hoi. Ma ke kakahiaka o kekahi la ae, kau aku la lakou maluna o na waa, a holo aku la a kau ma Honuaula, i Maui; a mai laila aku a Lahaina, a ma kekahi la ae, i Molokai; haalele lakou ia Molokai, hiki lakou ma Laie, Koolauloa, a malaila lakou i noho ai i kekahi mau la. Ia la a lakou i hiki ai ma Laie, a ia po iho no, olelo ae la o Laieikawai i kona mau hoa, a me ko lakou makuakane hookama. Eia kana olelo: "Ua lohe au i ko'u kupunawahine, ianei ko'u wahi i hanau ai, he mau mahoe ka maua, a no ka pepehi o ko maua makuakane i na keiki mua a ko maua makuahine i hanau ai no ka hanau kaikamahine wale no, a ia maua hoi, hanau kaikamahine no, nolaila, ahaiia'i au iloko o ka luawai, malaila ko'u wahi i hanaiia ai e ko'u kupunawahine. "A o ko'u lua, lilo ia i ke kahuna ka malama, a no ka ike ana o ke Kahuna nana i malama i ko'u kokoolua, i ka Makaula nana i ike mai mai Kauai mai, nolaila, kauoha ai ke Kahuna i ko'u kupunawahine, e ahai loa; a oia ko'u mea i ahaiia'i i Paliuli, a halawai wale kakou." MOKUNA XXVI A lohe ka Makaula i keia mea, alaila, hoomaopopo lea ae la ka Makaula, o ka mea no keia ana e imi nei. Aka hoi, i mea e maopopo lea ai, naue aku la ka Makaula ma kahi kaawale, a pule aku la i kona akua e hooiaio mai i ka olelo a ke kaikamahine. A pau kana pule ana, hoi mai la a hiamoe iho la, a iloko a kona manawa hiamoe, hiki mai la ma o ua Makaula nei, ke kuhikuhi ma ka hihio, mai kona akua mai, me ka olelo mai, "Ua hiki mai ka manawa e hookoia'i kou makemake, a e kuu ai hoi ka luhi o kou imi ana i ka loa. Ano hoi, o ka mea nona ke kamailio ana nona iho ia oukou, oia no ua mea la au i imi ai. "Nolaila, e ala ae oe, a e lawe i kau mea i hoomakaukau ai nona, e waiho aku i kau mohai imua ona, me ka hoomaikai mua me ka inoa o kou akua. "A pau kau hana, alaila, mai kali, e lawe koke aku ia lakou ma keia po no i Kauai, a hoonoho i na pali o Haena, iuka o Honopuwaiakua." Ma keia mea, puoho ae la ka Makaula mai kona hiamoe ana, ala ae la oia a lalau aku la i ka puaa a me ka moa, a hahau aku la imua o Laieikawai, me ka olelo aku, "Pomaikai wau e kuu Haku, i ka hoike ana mai a kuu akua ia oe, no ka mea, he nui ko'u manawa i ukali aku ai ia oe, me ka manao e loaa ka pomaikai mai a oe mai. "A nolaila, ke noi aku nei au ia oe e ae mai, e malamaia keia mau iwi ma kou lokomaikai e kuu Haku, a e waiho pu ia ka pomaikai me ka'u mau mamo a hiki i ka'u hanauna hope." I aku o Laieikawai, "E ka makua, ua hala ke kau o ko'u pomaikai nui, no ka mea, ua lawe aku o Waka i ka hoopomaikaiia mai o'u aku nei; aka, ma keia hope aku e kali oe a loaa ia'u he pomaikai oi aku mamua o ka pomaikai a me ka hanohano i loaa mua ia'u, alaila, o oe pu kekahi me makou ia hoopomaikaiia." A pau keia mau mea, lawe ae la ka Makaula e like me ke kauoha a kona akua, holo aku la ia po a hoonoho i kahi i kauohaia. I ua Makaula nei me kana mau kaikamahine mauka o Honopuwaiakua, a he mau la ko lakou malaila. He mea mau i ua Makaula nei ke kaahele i kekahi manawa. Iloko o kona la e hele ana ma kona ano Makaula, ia ia hoi i hiki aku ai i Wailua. Aia hoi, ua hoakoakoaia na kaikamahine puupaa a pau o Kauai, ma o ka poe kaukaualii me na kaikamahine koikoi, mamuli nae o ka olelo kuahaua a Aiwohikupua, e laweia mai na kaikamahine puupaa imua o ke Alii, o ka mea a ke Alii e lealea ai, oia ka wahine a ke Alii (Aiwohikupua). A hiki aku la ka Makaula iloko o kela akoakoa, aia hoi, ua hoakoakoaia na kaikamahine ma kahi hookahi, e ku ana imua o ke Alii. Ninau aku la ka Makaula i kekahi poe o ka Aha, "Heaha ka hana a keia Aha? A heaha hoi ka hana a keia poe kaikamahine e ku poai nei imua o ke Alii?" Haiia mai la, "Ua kuahauaia na kaikamahine puupaa a pau ma ke kauoha a ke Alii, a o ka mea a Aiwohikupua e makemake ai, alaila, e lawe oia elua mau kaikamahine i mau wahine nana, a o laua na mea pani ma ka hakahaka o Poliahu a me Hinaikamalama, a o na makua nana na kaikamahine i laweia i mau wahine na ke Alii, e hoaahuia ka, Ahuula no laua." Ia manawa, ku ae la ua Makaula nei, a kahea aku la me ka leo nui imua o ke Alii a me ka Aha a pau: "E ke Alii, ke ike nei au, he mea maikai no ke Alii ka lawe ana i kekahi o keia poe puupaa i mea hoolealea no ke Alii; aka, aole e hiki i kekahi o keia poe kaikamahine puupaa ke pani ma ka hakahaka o Poliahu a me Hinaikamalama. "Ina i nana iho nei wau i kekahi o keia poe puupaa, ua ane like iki aku ka maikai me ka uha hema o ka'u mau kaikamahine, alaila, e aho la ia. He nani no keia poe, aole nae e like aku me kekahi o ka'u poe kaikamahine." I mai la o Aiwohikupua me ka leo huhu, "I nahea makou i ike ai he kaikamahine kau?" A o ua Makaula nei, lilo ae la ia i enemi no ka poe nana na kaikamahine i laweia imua o ke Alii. A no ka olelo huhu ana mai o ke Alii, i aku ua Makaula nei, "Owau hookahi ka mea i imi ikaika i Haku no ka aina a puni na moku, o ua Haku la o ka aina, oia ua kaikamahine la a'u, a o na kaikamahine e ae a'u, he mau kaikuahine no ia no kuu Haku kane. "Ina e hele mai ua kaikamahine nei a'u a ku iloko o ke kai, he kaikoo ma ka moana, ina e ku ma ka aina, lulu ka makani, malu ka la, ua ka ua, kui ka hekili, olapa ka uwila, opaipai ka mauna, waikahe ka aina, pualena ka moana i ka hele a kuu kaikamahine Haku." A no keia olelo a ka Makaula, lilo iho la ia olelo ana i mea eehia no na kanaka a puni ka aha. Aka hoi, o ka poe nana na kaikamahine puupaa, aole o lakou oluolu. Nolaila, koi ikaika ae la lakou i ke Alii, e hoopaaia iloko o ka hale paehumu (Halepaahao), kahi e hoopaa ai i ko ke Alii poe lawehala. Ma ka manaopaa o kona poe enemi, hooholoia ae la ua Makaula nei e laweia iloko o kahi paa, a malaila oia e noho ai a make. Ma ka la o ua Makaula nei e hoopaaia'i, a ma ia po iho, ma ka wanaao, pule aku la oia i kona akua, a ma kona ano Makaula, ua hiki aku ka leo o kana pule imua o kona akua. A ma ka malamalama loa ana ae, ua weheia ka puka o ka hale nona, a hele aku la oia me kona ike oleia mai. Ia kakahiaka, hoouna aku la ke Alii i kona Ilamuku e hele aku e ike i ka pono o ua Makaula nei maloko o kahi paa o ke Alii. A hiki aku la ka Ilamuku mawaho o ka hale, kahi i hoopaaia'i ka Makaula, a kahea aku la oia me ka leo nui. "E Hulumaniani e! E Hulumaniani e!! E ka Makaula o ke akua!!! Pehea oe? Ua make anei oe?" Ekolu hea ana o ka Ilamuku i keia olelo, aole nae oia i lohe i kekahi leo noloko mai. Hoi aku la ka Ilamuku, a hai aku la i ke Alii, "Ua make ka Makaula." E hoomakaukau no ka la e Kauwila ai ka Heiau, a kau aku. Ia manawa, kauoha ae la ke Alii i na Luna o ka Heiau, a kau aku i ka Makaula ma ka lele imua o ke kuahu. A lohe ka Makaula i keia mea ma kahi kaawale aku, a ma ia po iho, lawe aku la oia hookahi pumaia, ua wahiia i ke kapa me he kupapau la, a hookomoia iloko o kahi i hoopaaia'i ua Makaula nei, a hoi aku la a hui me kana mau kaikamahine, a hai aku la i keia mau mea, a me kona pilikia ana. A kokoke i ka la kauwila o ka Heiau, lawe ae la ka Makaula ia Laieikawai, a me kona mau hoa pu maluna o na waa. I ke kakahiaka nui hoi o ka la e kauwila ai ka Heiau, kiiia aku la ke kanaka o ka Heiau, a i ke komo ana aku o na Luna o ke Alii, aia hoi, ua paa i ka wahiia, laweia aku la a waiho maloko o ka Heiau. A kokoke i ka hora e hauia'i ke kanaka ma ka lele, akoakoa ae la na mea a pau, a me ke Alii pu; a hiki ke Alii iluna o ka anuu, laweia mai la ua pumaia la i wahiia a kupono malalo o ka lele. I aku ke Alii i kona mau Luna, "E wehe i ke kapa o ke kupapau, a kau aku iluna o ka lele i hoomakaukauia nona." I ka wehe ana ae, aia he pumaia ko loko, aole ka Makaula ka mea i manaoia. "He pumaia keia! Auhea hoi ka Makaula," wahi a ke Alii. Nui loa iho la ka huhu o ke Alii i na Luna o ka Halepaahao, kahi i hoopaaia'i ka Makaula. I keia manawa, hookolokoloia iho la kona mau Luna. Ia manawa hoi e hookolokoloia ana na Luna o ke Alii, hiki mai la ua Makaula nei me kana mau kaikamahine maluna o ke kaulua, a lana mawaho o ka nuku o ka muliwai. Ku mai la ka Makaula ma kekahi waa, a o na kaikuahine o Aiwohikupua ma kekahi waa, a o Laieikawai hoi iluna o ka pola o na waa kahi i ku mai ai, iloko hoi o kona puloulou Alii kapu. Ia wa a lakou e ku la me Laieikawai, lulu ka makani, malu ka la, kaikoo ke kai, pualena ka moana, hoi ka waikahe o na kahawai a paa i na kumu wai, aole he puka wai i kai. A pau ia, lawe ka Makaula i ka pa-u o Laieikawai a waiho iuka, ia wa, kui ka hekili, hiolo ka Heiau, haihai ka lele. A pau keia mau mea i ka hoikeia, i nana aku ka hana o Aiwohikupua, a me na mea e ae, e ku mai ana o Laieikawai maloko o ka puloulou Alii kapu iluna o na waa. Ia manawa, kanikani pihe aku la ka aha, "Ka wahine maikai--e! Ka wahine maikai--e! Kilakila ia e ku mai la!" Ia manawa, naholo mai la na kanaka a ku mauka o kahakai, hehi kekahi maluna o kekahi i ike lea aku lakou. Ia manawa, kahea aku la ka Makaula ia Aiwohikupua, "Mai hoahewa aku i kou mau Luna, aole wau na lakou i hookuu mai kahi paa mai, na kuu akua i lawe mai ia'u mai kuu pilikia mauwale ana, a kuu Haku. "He oiaio ka'u olelo ia oe, he kaikamahine ka'u, kuu Haku hoi a'u i imi ai, ka mea nana keia mau iwi." A no ka ike maopopo ana aku o Aiwohikupua ia Laieikawai, he mea e hoi ka haalulu o kona puuwai, a waiho aku la i ka honua me he mea make la. A mama ae la ke Alii, kauoha ae la oia i kona Luna e lawe mai i ka Makaula me na kaikamahine pu mai, i pani ma ka hakahaka o Poliahu, a me Hinaikamalama. Hele aku la ka Luna a kahea aku la i ka Makaula, iluna o na waa, me ka hai aku i ka olelo a ke Alii. A lohe ka Makaula i keia mea, hai aku la oia i kana olelo i ka Luna, "E hoi oe a ke Alii, kuu Haku hoi, e olelo aku oe, aole e lilo kuu kaikamahine Haku i wahine nana, aia he Alii aimoku, alaila, lilo kuu kaikamahine." Hoi aku la ka Luna, hoi aku la no hoi ka Makaula me kana mau kaikamahine, aole nae i ike houia ma ia hope iho i Wailua, hoi aku la lakou a noho i Honopuwaiakua. MOKUNA XXVII Ma keia Mokuna, e kamailio kakou no ke kii ana o Kahalaomapuana ia Kaonohiokala i kane hoopalau na Laieikawai, a me kona hoi ana mai. A pau ke kauoha a Kahalaomapuana i kona mau kaikuaana, a makaukau hoi kona hele ana. Ma ka puka ana o ka la, komo ae la o Kahalaomapuana iloko o Kihanuilulumoku, a au aku la ma ka moana a hiki i Kealohilani, eha malama me ke anahulu, hiki keia iloko o Kealohilani. Ia laua i hiki aku ai, aole laua i ike ia Mokukelekahiki ke kiai nana e malama ko Kaonohiokala waiwai, kona Kuhina Nui hoi iloko o Kealohilani, elua anahulu ko laua kali ana, hoi mai o Mokukelekahiki mai ka mahina mai. Hoi mai la o Mokukelekahiki, e moe ana keia moo iloko ka hale, i ke poo no piha o loko o ua hale nui nei o Mokukelekahiki, o ke kina no a me ka huelo o ua moo nei, iloko no o ke kai. He mea weliweli ia Mokukelekahiki ka ike ana i ua moo nei, lele aku la oia a hiki iluna o Nuumealani, ilaila o Kaeloikamalama ke kupua nui nana e pani ka puka o ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti, kahi i hunaia'i o Kaonohiokala. Hai aku la o Mokukelekahiki ia Kaeloikamalama i kona ike ana i ka moo. Ia manawa, lele aku la o Kaeloikamalama me Mokukelekahiki, mai luna mai o Nuumealani, he aina aia i ka lewa. Ia hiki ana mai o Mokukelekahiki ma ma ka hale e moe nei ka moo. Ia manawa, olelo aku la o Kihanuilulumoku (ka moo) ia Kahalaomapuana, "I hiki mai auanei keia mau kanaka e lele mai nei i o kaua nei, alaila, e luai aku wau ia oe a kau ma ka a-i o Kaeloikamalama, a i ninau ae ia oe, alaila, hai aku oe, he kama oe na laua, a i ninau mai i ka kaua hana i hiki mai ai, alaila, hai aku oe." Aole i upuupu iho mahope iho o ka laua kamailio ana, halulu ana o Mokukelekahiki laua me Kaeloikamalama ma ka puka o ka hale. I nana aku ka hana o ua moo nei, e ku mai ana o Kaeloikamalama me ka laau palau, o _Kapahielihonua_ ka inoa, he iwakalua anana ka loa, eha kanaka nana e apo puni. Manao iho la ka moo he luku keia, aia nae e oniu ana o Kaeloikamalama i ka laau palau i ka welau o kona lima. Ia manawa, hapai mai la o Kihanuilulumoku i kona huelo mailoko ae o ka moana, pii ke kai iluna, me he poi ana a ka nalu i ke kumu pali, me he akuku nalu la i poi iloko o ka malama o Kaulua, pii ke ehu o ke kai iluna, pouli ka la, ku ka punakea iuka. Ma ia wa, kau mai la ka weli ia Kaeloikamalama ma, hoomaka laua e holo mai ke alo aku o ua moo nei. Ia manawa, luai aku ana o Kihanuilulumoku ia Kahalaomapuana, kau ana iluna o ka a-i o Kaeloikamalama. Ninau ae la o Kaeloikamalama, "Nawai ke kama o oe?" I aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "Na Mokukelekahiki, na Kaeloikamalama; na kupua nana e malama ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti." Ninau laua, "Heaha ka huakai a kuu kama i hiki mai ai?" Hai aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "He huakai imi Lani." Ninau hou laua, "Imi i ka Lani owai?" "O Kaonohiokala," wahi a Kahalaomapuana, "ka Lani kapu a Kaeloikamalama laua o Mokukelekahiki." Ninau hou no laua, "A loaa o Kaonohiokala, heaha ka hana?" I aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "I kane na ke kaikamahine Alii o Hawaiiakea, na Laieikawai, ke Haku o makou." Ninau hou no laua "Owai oe?" Hai aku la keia, "O Kahalaomapuana, ke kaikamahine muli a Moanalihaikawaokele laua me Laukieleula." A lohe o Kaeloikamalama laua me Mokukelekahiki, he mea e ko laua aloha, ia manawa, kuu iho la mai ka a-i iho, honi aku la i ka ihu o ke kaikamahine. No ka mea, o Mokukelekahiki, a me Kaeloikamalama, he mau kaikunane no Laukieleula ka makuahine o lakou me Aiwohikupua. I aku la o Kaeloikamalala, "E hele kaua a loaa ke alanui, alaila, pii aku oe." Hele aku la laua hookahi anahulu, hiki i kahi e pii ai, kahea aku la o Kaeloikamalama, "E ka Lanalananuiaimakua--! kuuia mai ke alanui, i pii aku wa--!! ua hewa o lalo ne--!!!" Aole i upuupu iho, kuu mai ana o Lanalananuiaimakua i ka punawelewele, hihi pea ka lewa. Ia manawa, aoao aku la o Kaeloikamalama, "Eia ko alanui, i pii auanei oe a hiki iluna, a i ike oe hookahi hale e ku ana iloko o ka mahina, aia ilaila o Moanalihaikawaokele o Kahakaekaea ia aina. "I nana aku auanei oe, ka elemakule e loloa ana ka lauoho, ua hina ke poo, o Moanalihaikawaokele no ia. Ina e noho ana iluna, mai wikiwiki aku oe, o ike e mai auanei kela ia oe, make e oe, aole e lohe i kau olelo, kuhi auanei ia oe he mea e. "Kali aku oe a moe, e huli ana ke alo i lalo, aole i moe, aka, i nana aku oe, a i huli ke alo iluna, ua moe ka hoi, alaila, hele aku oe, mai hele oe ma ka makani, hele oe ma ka lulu, a noho iluna o ka umauma, paa oe a paa i ka umiumi, alaila, kahea iho oe: "E Moanalihaikawaokele--e! Eia wau he kama nau, He kama na Laukieleula, He kama na Mokukelekahiki, He kama na Kaeloikamalama, Na kaikunane o kuu makuahine; Makuakane, makuakane hoi, O o'u me o'u kaikuaana, Me kuu kaikunane o Aiwohikupua hoi. Homai he ike, he ike nui, he ike loa, Kuuia mai kuu Lani, Kuu kaikunane Haku--e. E ala! E ala mai o--e!! "Pela auanei oe e hea iho ai, a ina e ninau mai kela ia oe, alaila, hai aku oe i kau huakai i hele mai ai. "I pii auanei oe, a i uhi ke awa, na ko makuakane ia hana, i hiki mai ke anu ma ou la, mai maka'u oe. Alaile, pii no oe, a i honi oe i ke ala, o ko makuahine no ia, nona ke ala, alaila, palekana, kokoke oe e puka iluna, pii no oe, a i o mai auanei ka kukuna o ka la, a i keehi ka wela ia oe mai maka'u oe, i ike auanei oe i ka oi o ka nohi o ka la, alaila, hoomanawanui aku no oe a komo i ka malu o ka mahina, alaila, pau ka make, o ko komo no ia iloko o Kahakaekaea." A pau ka laua kamailio ana no keia mau mea; pii aku la o Kahalaomapuana, a ahiahi, paa oia i ke awa, manao ae la keia o ka ka makuakane hana ia, mai ia po a wanaao, honi oia i ke ala o ke kiele, manao ae la keia o ka makuahine ia, mai ia wanaao a kiekie ka la, loaa oia i ka wela o ka la, manao ae la oia, o ka hana keia a kona kaikunane. Ia manawa, ake aku la keia e komo i ka malu o ka mahina, a ma ke ahiahi, hiki aku la oia i ka malu o ka mahina, manao ae la keia, ua komo i ka aina i kapaia o Kahakaekaea. Ike aku la oia i keia hale nui e ku ana, ua po iho la, hele aku la oia ma ka lulu, aia no e ala mai ana o Moanalihaikawaokele, hoi mai la oia a ma kahi kaawale, e kali ana o ka moe iho, e like me ke kuhikuhi a Kaeloikamalama. Aoale nae i loaa ka hiamoe ia Moanalihaikawaokele. A ma ka wanaao, hele aku la keia, iluna ke alo o Moanalihaikawaokele, manao ae la keia ua hiamoe, holokiki aku la keia a paa ma ka umiumi o ka makuakane, kahea iho la e like me ke aoao ana a Kaeloikamalama i hoikeia maluna. Ala ae la o Moanalihaikawaokele, ua paa kahi e ikaika ai, o ka umiumi, kupaka ae la aole e hiki, ua paa loa ka umiumi ia Kahalaomapuana, o i noke i ke kupaka i o ianei, a pau ke aho o Moanalihaikawaokele. Ninau ae la, "Nawai ke kama o oe?" I aku la keia, "Nau no." Ninau hou kela, "Na'u me wai?" Hai aku keia, "Nau no me Laukieleula." Ninau hou kela, "Owai oe?" "O Kahalaomapuana." I ae la ka makuakane, "Kuuia ae kuu umiumi, he kama io oe na'u." Kuu ae la keia, ala ae la ka makuakane, a hoonoho iho la iluna o ka uha, uwe iho la, a pau ka uwe ana, ninau iho ka makuakane, "Heaha kau huakai i hiki mai ai?" "He huakai imi Lani," wahi a Kahalaomapuana. "Imi owai ka Lani e imi ai?" "O Kaonohiokala," wahi a ke kaikamahine. "A loaa ka Lani, heaha ka hana?" I aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "I kii mai nei au i kuu kaikunane Haku, i kane na ke kaikamahine Alii o Hawaiiakea, na Laieikawai, ke aikane Alii a makou, ko makou mea nana i malama." Hai aku la oia i na mea a pau i hanaia e ko lakou kaikunane, a me ka lakou aikane. I mai la o Moanalihaikawaokele, "Aole na'u e ae aku, na ko makuahine wale no e ae aku, ka mea nana ke Alii, aia ke noho la i kahi kapu, kahi hiki ole ia'u ke hele aku, aia hanawai ko makuahine, alaila, hoi mai i o'u nei, a pau na la haumia o ko makuahine, alaila, pau ka ike ana me a'u, hoi no me ke Alii. "Nolaila, e kali oe, a hiki i na la mai o ko makuahina, i hoi mai kela, alaila, hai aku oe i kau huakai i hiki mai ai ianei." Kakali iho la laua ehiku la, maopopo iho la na la e hanawai ai o Laukieleula. I aku la o Moanalihaikawaokele ia Kahalaomapuana, "Ua kokoke mai ka la e mai ai ko makuahine, nolaila, ma keia po, e hele mua oe ma ka _Halepea_, malaila oe e moe ai, i hiki mai kela i kakahiaka, e moe aku ana oe i ka hale, aole ona wahi e hele e aku ai, no ka mea, ua haumia, ina e ninau ia oe, hai pololei aku no oe e like me kau olelo ia'u." Ma ia po iho, hoouna aku la o Moanalihaikawaokele, ia Kahalaomapuana iloko o ka Halepea. MOKUNA XXVIII Ma ke kakahiaka nui, hiki ana o Laukieleula, i nana mai ka hana e moe ana keia mea, aole nae e hiki i ua o Laukieleula ke hookaawale ia ia, no ka mea, ua haumia, o kela hale wale no kahi i aeia nona, "Owai oe e keia kupu, e keia kalohe, nana i komo kuu wahi kapu, kahi hiki ole i na mea e ae ke komo ma keia wahi?" Pela aku ka mea hale. Hai aku ka malihini, "O Kahalaomapuana au, ka hua hope loa a kou opu." I aku ka makuahine, "Auwe! e kuu Haku, e hoi oe me ko makuakane, aole e hiki ia'u e ike ia oe, no ka mea, ua hiki mai kuu mau la haumia, aia a pau kuu haumia ana, e launa no kaua no ka manawa pokole a hele aku." A no keia mea, hoi aku la o Kahalaomapuana me Moanalihaikawaokele, ninau mai la ka makuakane, "Pehea mai la?" I aku ke kaikamahine, "Olelo mai nei ia'u e hoi mai me oe, a pau ka manawa haumia, alaila hele mai e ike ia'u." Noho iho la laua ekolu la, kokoke i ka wa e pau ai ka haumia o Laukieleula, olelo aku o Moanalihaikawaokele i ke kaikamahine, "O hele, no ka mea, ua kokoke mai ka wa mau o ko makuahine, hele no oe i kakahiaka nui poeleele o ka la apopo, a noho ma ka luawai, kahi ana e hoomaemae ai ia ia, mai hoike oe, aia a lele kela iloko o ke kiowai, a i luu ilalo o ka wai, alaila, holo aku oe a lawe mai i ka pa-u, a me ke kapa ona i haumia i kona mai, i auau kela a hoi mai ma kapa, aole ke kapa, alaila manao mai ua kii aku au, i hoi mai ai kela i ka hale nei, alaila ki kou makemake. "Ina i uwe olua a i pau ka uwe ana, a i ninau mai ia'u i ke kapa ona au i lawe mai ai, alaila, hai aku oe, aia ia oe; a e hilahila kela me ka menemene ia oe i ko haumia ana, oia hoi, aole ana mea nui e ae e uku mai ai no kou haumia i kona kapa i hoohaumiaia i kona mai, hookahi wale no mea nui ana o ka Lani au i kii mai nei, aia a ninau kela i kou makemake, alaila, hai aku oe, o ko ike ka hoi ia i ko kaikunane, ike pu me a'u, no ka mea, hookahi wale no a'u ike ana i ka makahiki hookahi, he kiei mai ka, o ka nalo aku la no ia." A hiki i ka manawa a ka makuakane i olelo ai, ala ae la ke kaikamahine i kakahiaka nui poeleele, a hele aku la e like me ke kauoha a kona makuakane. Ia ia i hiki aku ai, pee iho la ma kahi kokoke i ke koiwai, aole i upuupu iho, hiki ana ka makuahine, a wehe i ke kapa i hoohaumiaia, a lele aku la iloko o ka wai. Ia manawa, lawe ae la ke kaikamahine i ka mea i kauohaia ia ia, a hoi aku la me ka makuakane. Aole keia i liuliu iho, halulu ana ka makuahine, ua hookaawale mua ae o Moanalihaikawaokele ia ia ma ke kaawale, o ke kaikamahine wale no ko ka hale. "E Moanalihaikawaokele, o kuu kapa i haumia, homai, e lawe ae au e hoomaemae i ka wai." Aole nae he ekemu mai, ekolu ana kahea ana, aole nae he ekemuia mai, kiei aku la keia iloko o ka hale, e moe ana o Kahalaomapuana, ua pulou iho i ke kapa i hoohaumia ole ia. Kahea iho la, "E Moanalihaikawaokele", homai kuu kapa i haumia i kuu mai, e lawe ae au e hoomaemae i ka wai." Ia manawa, puoho ae la o Kahalaomapuana, me he mea la ua hiamoe, me ka i aku i ka makuahine, "E kuu Haku makuahine, ua hele aku nei keia, owau wale no ko ka hale nei, a o ko kapa nae i haumia i ko mai, eia la." "Auwe! e kuu Haku, he nui kuu menemene ia oe i kou malama ana i ke kapa i haumia ia'u, a heaha la auanei ka uku o kuu menemene ia oe e kuu Haku?" Apo aku la ia i ke kaikamahine, a uwe aku la i ka mea i oleloia ma ka pauku maluna ae nei. A pau ka uwe ana, ninau iho ka makuahine, "Heaha kau huakai i hiki mai ai i o maua nei?" "I kii mai nei au i kuu kaikunane i kane na ke aikane a makou, ke Alii wahine o Hawaii-nui-akea, o Laieikawai, ka mea nana i malama ia makou iloko o ko makou haaleleia'na e ko makou kaikunane aloha ole, nolaila, ua hilahila makou, aola a makou uku e uku aku ai no ka malama ana a ke Alii ia makou; a no ia mea, e ae mai oe e iho ae au me kuu kaikunane Lani ilalo, a lawe mai ia Laieikawai iluna nei." O ka Kahalaomapuana olelo keia imua o kona makuahine. I mai la ka makuahine, "Ke ae aku nei au, no ka mea, aole o'u uku no kou malama ana i kuu kapa i haumia ia'u. "Ina no la hoi he mea e ka mea nana i kii mai nei, ina no la hoi aole wau e ae aku; o ko kii paka ana mai nei, aole au e aua aku. "Oia hoi, ua olelo no ko kaikunane o oe hookahi no kana mea i oi aku ke aloha, a me ka manao nui; a nolaila, e pii kaua e ike i ko kaikunane. "Nolaila, e kali oe pela, e hea ae au i ke kahu manu o olua, a nana kaua e lawe aku a komo i ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti." Ia manawa, hea aku la ka makuahine, "E Haluluikekihiokamalama--e, Ka manu nana e pani ka la, Hoi ka wela i Kealohilani, Ka manu nana e alai ka ua, Maloo na kumuwai o Nuumealani. Ka manu nana i kaohi na ao luna, Nee na opua i ka moana, Huliamahi na moku, Naueue Kahakaekaea, Palikaulu ole ka lani, O na kupu, na eu, O Mokukelekahiki, O Kaeloikamalama, Na kupu nana e pani ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti, Eia la he Lani hou he kana nau, Kiiia mai, lawe aku i luna i o Awakea." Ia wa, kuu iho la ua manu nei i na eheu i lalo, a o ke kino aia no i luna. Ma ia wa, kau aku la o Laukieleula me Kahalaomapuana i luna o ka eheu o ua manu nei, o ka lele aku la no ia a hiki i o Awakea, ka mea nana e wehe ke pani o ka la, kahi i noho ai o Kaonohiokala. Ia manawa a laua i hiki aku ai, ua paniia aku la ko ke Alii wahi e na ao hekili. Alaila, kena ae la o Laukieleula ia Awakea, "Weheia mai ke pani o kahi o ke Alii." Ia manawa, ke ae la o Awakea me kona wela nui, a auhee aku la na ao hekili imua ona. Aia hoi ikeia aku la ke Alii e moe mai ana i ka onohi pono o ka la, i ka puokooko hoi o ka wela loa, nolaila i kapaia'i ka inoa o ke Alii, mamuli oia ano (Kaonohiokala). Ia manawa, lalau iho la o Laukieleula i kekahi kukuna o ka la a kaohi iho la. Ia manawa, aia mai la ke Alii. Ia Kahalaomapuana i ike aku ai i kona kaikunane, ua like na maka me ka uwila, a o kona ili a me kona kino a puni, ua like me ka okooko o ke kapuahi hooheehee hao. Kahea aku la o Laukieleula, "E kuu Lani, eia ko kuahine o Kahalaomapuana, ka mea au e aloha nui nei, eia la ua imi mai nei ia kaua." A lohe o Kaonohiokala, aia mai la mai kona hiamoe ana, alawa ae la kela ia Laukieleula, e hea aku i na kiai o ka malu. Kahea ae la. "E ka Mahinanuikonane, E Kaohukolokaialea, Na kiai o ka malumalu, kulia imua o ke Alii." Ia manawa, hele mai la na kiai o ka malu a ku iho la imua o ke Alii. Aia hoi, ua holo ka wela o ka la mai ke Alii aku. A loaa ka malumalu imua o ko ke Alii wahi moe, alaila, kahea mai la i ke kaikuahine, a hele aku la a uwe iho la, no ka mea, ua maeele kona puuwai i ke aloha no kona kaikuahine opiopio. A he nui no hoi na la o ke kaawale ana. A pau ka uwe ana, ninau iho la, "Nawai ke kama o oe?" Pane aku ke kaikuahine, "Na Mokukelekahiki, na Kaeloikamalama, na Moanalihaikawaokele laua o Laukieleula." Ninau hou mai la ke kaikunane, "Heaha ka huakai?" Alaila, hai aku la kela e like me kana olelo i ka makuahine. A lohe ke Alii i keia mau olelo, haliu aku la oia i ko laua makuahine, me ka ninau aku, "Laukieleula, ua ae anei oe ia'u e kii i ka mea a ianei e olelo mai nei i wahine na'u?" "Ua haawi mua wau ia oe ua lilo, e like me kana noi ia'u; ina o kekahi o lakou kai kii mai nei, ina aole e hiki mai i o kaua nei, i lalo aku la no, hoi; aeia aku ka olelo a kou pokii, no ka mea, nau i wehe mua ke alanui, a na ko kaikuahine i pani mai, aohe he mea mamua ou, a aohe no hoi he mea mahope iho," pela aku ka makuahine. A pau keia mau olelo, ninau hou mai la o Kaonohiokala ia Kahalaomapuana no kona mau kaikuaana a me kona kaikunane. Alaila hai aku la o Kahalaomapuana, "Aole he pono o ko makou kaikunane, ua kue ko makou noho ana, o keia wahine no a'u i kii mai nei ia oe. I ka huakai mua ana i kii ai i ua wahine nei; hoi hou ae ia makou; hele no makou a hiki i kahi o ua wahine nei, ke Alii wahine a'u e olelo nei. I ka po, hiki makou i uka, iloko o ka ululaau oia wale no a me kona kupunawahine ko ia wahi. Ku makou mawaho, i nana aku ka hana i ka hale o ua o Laieikawai, ua uhiia mai i ka hulu melemele o ka Oo. "Kii o Mailehaiwale, aole i loaa, hoole no ua wahine nei, kii aku o Mailekaluhea, aole no i loaa, kii aku o Mailelaulii, aole no i loaa, kii aku o Mailepakaha, aole no i loaa, i ka hoole wale no a pau lakou, koe owau, aole hoi wau i kii, o ka huhu iho la no ia ia makou haalele i ka nahelehele. "A haalele kela ia makou, ukali aku makou mahope, pakela loa no ko makou kaikunane i ka huhu, me he mea la na makou i hoole kona makemake. "Nolaila la, hoi hou makou a kahi i haalele mua ia ai, na ua kaikamahine Alii la i malama ia makou, a haalele wale aku la wau, hele mai nei, oia iho la ko makou noho ana." A lohe o Kaonohiokala i keia mau olelo, he mea e ka huhu. Ia manawa, olelo aku la oia ia Kahalaomapuana, "E hoi oe me ou kaikuaana a me ke aikane Alii a oukou, kuu wahine hoi, kali mai oukou, i nee ka ua ma keia hope iho, a i lanipili, eia no wau i anei. "I kaikoo auanei ka moana, a i ku ka punakea i uka, eia no wau i anei. Ina e paka makani a hookahi anahulu malie, i kui paloo ka hekili, aia wau i Kahakae kaea. "Kui paloo hou auanei ka hekili ekolu pohaku, ua hala ia'u ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti, aia wau i Kealohilani, ua pau kuu kino kapu Akua alaila o kuu kapu Alii koe, alaila noho kanaka aku wau ma ko kakou ano. "Ma ia hope iho, hoolohe mai oukou a i hui ka hekili, ua ka ua, kaikoo ka moana, he waikahe ma ka aina, olapa ka uwila, uhi ka noe, pio ke anuenue, ku ka punohu i ka moana, hokahi malama e poi ai ka ino a mao ae, aia wau ma ke kua o na mauna i ka wa molehulehu o ke kakahiaka. "Kali mai oukou a i puka aku ka la, a haalele iho i ka piko o na mauna; ia manawa, e ike ae ai oukou ia'u e noho ana wau iloko o ka la, iwaena o ka Luakalai, i hoopuniia i na, onohi Alii. "Aole nae kakou e halawai ia manawa; aia ko kakou halawai i ka ehu ahiahi; ma ka puka ana mai o ka mahina i ka po i o Mahealani, alaila e hui ai au me kuu wahine. "Aia a hoao maua, alaila, e hoomaka wau i ka luku maluna o ka aina no ka poe i hana ino mai ia oukou. "Nolaila, e lawe aku oe i ka hoailona o Laieikawai, he anuenue o kuu wahine ia." A pau keia mau mea, hoi iho la oia ma ke aia ana i pii aku ai, hookahi malama, a halawai iho la me Kihanuilulumoku, hai aku la i ka hua olelo, "Ua pono kaua, ua waiwai no hoi." Komo ae la oia iloko o Kihanuilulumoku, au aku la ma ka moana, e like me na la o ka hele ana aku, pela no ka loihi o ka hoi ana mai. Hiki laua i Olaa, aole a Laieikawai ma, hanu ae la ua moo nei a puni o Hawaii, aole. Hiki laua i Maui, hanu ae la ka moo, aole no. Hanu aku la ia Kahoolawe, Lanai, a me Molokai, oia ole like no. Hiki laua i Kauai, hanu ae la a puni aole i loaa, hanu ae la i na mauna, aia hoi, e noho ana i Honopuuwaiakua, luai aku la ua o Kihanuilulumoku ia Kahalaomapuana. Ike mai la ke Alii a me kona mau kaikuaana, he mea e ka olioli. Aka, he mea malihini nae i ka Makaula keia kaikamahine opiopio, a he mea weliweli no hoi i ua Makaula nei ka ike ana i ka moo, aka, ma kona ano Makaula, ua hoopauia kona maka'u. He umikumamakahi malama, me ke anahulu, me eha la keu, oia ka loihi o ke kaawale ana o Kahalaomapuana mai ka la i haalele ai ia, Laieikawai ma, a hiki i ko laua hoi ana mai mai Kealohilani mai. MOKUNA XXIX Ia Kahalaomapuana i hoi mai ai mai kana huakai imi Alii, mai Kealohilani mai, hai aku la oia i ka moolelo o ko laua hele ana, a me na hihia he nue, a me na lauwili ana, a me na mea a pau ana i ike ai iloko o kona manawa hele. Iloko nae o kana manawa e olelo nei no ka olelo kauoha a Kaonohiokala, i mai la o Laieikawai i kona mau hoa, "E na hoa, ia Kahalaomapuana e olelo nei no Kaonohiokala ke kaikunane o kakou, kuu kane hoi, ke kau e mai nei ia'u ka halia o ka maka'u, a me ka weliweli, ke kuhi nei au he kanaka, he Akua nui loa ka! Iahona paha a ike aku, o kuu make no paha ia, no ka mea, ke maka'u honua e mai nei no i kona manawa aole me kakou." I aku la kona mau hoa, "Aole ia he Akua, he kanaka no e like me kakou, o kona ano nae, a me kona helehelena, he ano Akua. A no kona hanau mua ana, lilo ai oia i hiwahiwa na na makua o kakou, ma ona la i haawiia'i ka mana nui hiki ole ia makou, a o Kahalaomapuana nei, alua wale no mea i haawiia'i ka mana, koe aku nae ke kapu no ko kakou kaikunane, nolaila, mai maka'u oe; aia no hoi paha a hiki mai la, ike aku no hoi paha oe la, he kanaka no e like me kakou." Mamua aku nae o ko Kahalaomapuana hoi ana mai Kealohilani mai, ua ike mua aku ka Makaula hookahi malama mamua'ku o ko laua hoi ana mai. Nolaila, wanana mua ka Makaula me ka olelo iho, "E loaa ana ka pomaikai ia kakou mai ka lewa mai, aia a hiki aku i na po mahina konane e hiki mai ai. "Aia a lohe aku kakou i ka hekili kui pamaloo, a me ka hekili iloko o ke kuaua, ia manawa e ike ai ko ka aina nei, he ua me ka uwila, he kaikoo ma ka moana, he waikahe ma ka aina, uhi paaia ka aina, a me ka moana a puni e ka noe, ke awa, ka ohu, a me ke kualau. "A hala ae ia, a i ka la o Mahealani, ma ka ehu kakahiaka, i ka manawa e keehi iho ai na kukuna o ka la i ka piko o na mauna, ia manawa e ike aku ai ko ka aina, he Kamakahi ke noho mai ana iloko o ka onohi o ka la, he mea like me ke keiki kapu a kuu Akua. E ike auanei ka aina i ka luku nui ma ia hope iho, a nana e kaili aku i ka poe hookiekie mai ka aina aku, alaila, no kakou ka pomaikai, a me ka kakou pua aku." A lohe kana mau kaikamahine i keia wanana a ka Makaula, nalu iho la lakou iloko o lakou iho ma ke kaawale i keia wanana a ka Makaula, me ka hai ole aku i ua Makaula nei, no ka mea, ua hoomanao wale ae la lakou no ka lakou mea i hoouna ai i ko lakou kaikaina. Ma kona ano Makaula, ua hiki ia ia ke hele aku e kukala ma Kauai a puni, me ka hai aku i kana mea i ike a no na mea e hiki mai ana mahope. A no keia mea, kauoha iho la oia i kana mau kaikamahine, mamua o kona haalele ana ia lakou, me ka olelo aku, "E a'u mau kaikamahine ke hele nei au ma kuu aoao mau, e haalele ana wau ia oukou, aole nae e hele loa ana, aka, e hele ana wau e hai aku i keia mea a'u e kamailio nei ia oukou, a hoi mai wau; nolaila, e noho oukou ma kahi a kuu Akua i kuhikuhi ai ia'u, e waiho oukou ia oukou maloko o ka maluhia a hiki i ka hookoia'na o kuu wanana." Hele aku la ua Makaula nei e like me kona manaopaa, a hele aku la oia imua a na'lii a me ka poe koikoi, ma kahi e akoakoa ai na'lii, malaila oia i kukala aku ai e like me kona ike. A hiki mua oia i o Aiwohikupua, me ka i aku, "Mai keia la aku, e kukulu mua oe i mau lepa a puni kou wahi, a e hookomo i kau poe aloha a pau maloko. "No ka mea, ma keia hope koke iho, e hiki mai ana ka luku maluna o ka aina, aole e ikeia kekahi luku mamua aku, e like me ka luku e hiki mai ana, aole hoi mahope iho o ka pau ana ae o keia luku a'u e olelo nei. "Mamua o ka hiki ana mai o ka mea mana, e hoike mai no oia i hoailona no ka luku ana, aole maluna o na makaainana, maluna pono iho no ou, a o kou poe, ia manawa, e moe ai na mea kiekie o ka aina nei imua ona, a e kailiia aku ka hanohano mai a oe aku. "Ina e hoolohe oe i ka'u olelo, alaila, e pakele oe i ka luku e hiki mai ana, a oiaio; ano e hoomakaukau oe ia oe." A no keia olelo a ka Makaula, kipakuia mai la ka Makaula mai ke alo mai o ke Alii. Pela oia i kukula hele ai imua o na'lii a puni o Kauai, o ka poe alii i lohe i ka ka Makaula, o lakou no kai pakele. Hele aku oia imua o Kekalukaluokewa, kana wahine, a me ko laua alo a pau. E like me ka olelo no Aiwohikupua, pela kana olelo ia Kekalukaluokewa, a manaoio mai la oia. Aka, o Waka, aole oia i hooko, me ka olelo mai, "Ina he Akua ka mea nana e luku mai, alaila, he Akua no ko'u e hiki ai ke hoopakele ia'u, a me ka'u mau Alii." A no keia olelo a Waka, haliu aku la ka Makaula i ke Alii, a olelo aku la, "Mai hoolohe i ka ko kupunawahine, no ka mea, e hiki mai ana ka luku nui maluna o na'lii. Ano e kukulu i lepa a puni oe, a e hookomo i kau mea aloha maloko o no lepa i kukuluia, a o ka mea e manaoio ole i ka'u, e haule no lakou iloko o ka luku nui. "A hiki i ua la la, e moe ana na luahine ma na kapua i o ke keiki mana, me ke noi aku i ola, aole e loaa, no ka mea, ua hoole i ka olelo a ka Makaula nei." A no ka mea, ua ike o Kekalukaluokewa i ke ko mau o kana mau wanana mamua aku, nolaila, ua pale kela i ka olelo a ka luahine. A hala aku la ka Makaula, kukulu ae la ke Alii i lepa a puni kona Hale Alii, a noho iho la maloko o kahi hoomalu e like me ka olelo a ka Makaula. A pau ka huakai kaapuni a ka Makaula, hoi aku la oia a noho me kana mau kaikamahine. No ke aloha wale no o ka Makaula ke kumu o kona hele ana aku e hai i kana mea i ike ai. Hookahi la o kona, noho ana me kana mau kaikamahine ma Honopuuwaiakua, mai kona hoi ana aku mai kaapuni, hiki mai o Kahalaomapuana, e like me ka kakou ike ana mamua ae nei i hoikeia ma neia Mokuna. MOKUNA XXX Hookahi anahulu mahope iho o ko Kahalaomapuana hoi ana mai mai Kealohilani mai, ia manawa, hiki mai la ka hoailona mua a ko lakou kaikunane, e like me ke kauoha i kona kaikuahine. Pela i hoao liilii ai na hoailona iloko o na la elima, a i ke ono o ka la, kui ka hekili, ua ka ua, kaikoo ka moana, waikahe ka aina, olapa ka uwila, uhi ka noe, pio ke anuenue, ku ka punohu i ka moana. Ia manawa, olelo aku ka Makaula, "E a'u mau kaikamahine, ua hiki mai ka hoohoia'na o kuu wanana e like me ka'u olelo mua ia oukou." I aku la na kaikamahine, "Oia hoi ka makou i hamumu iho nei, no ka mea, ua lohe mua no makou i keia mea ia oe, oiai aole keia (Kahalaomapuana) i hiki mai, a ma ka ianei hoi ana mai nei, lohe hope makou ia ianei." Olelo mai la o Laieikawai, "He haalulu nui ko'u, a me ka weliweli, a pehea la e pau ai kuu maka'u?" "Mai maka'u oe, aole hoi e weliweli, e hiki mai ana ka pomaikai ia kakou, a e lilo auanei kakou i mea nui nana e ai na moku a puni, aole kekahi mea e ae, a e noho Alii auanei oukou maluna o ka aina, a e holo aku ka poe hana ino mai ia oukou mai ka noho Alii aku. "Nolaila wau i ukali ai me ka hoomanawanui iloko o ka luhi, a me ka inea, iloko o na pilikia he nui, a ke ike nei wau, no'u ka pomaikai a no ka'u mau pua, mai ia oukou mai." Hookahi malama o ka ino ma ka, aina no ka hoailona hope, ma ke kakahiaka, i na kukuna o ka la i haalele iho ai i na mauna. Ikeia aku la o Kaonohiokala e noho ana iloko o a wela kukanono o ka la, mawaena pono o ka Luakalai, i hoopuniia i na anuenue, a me ka ua koko. I kela wa no, loheia aku la ka pihe uwa a puni o Kauai, i ka ike ana aku i ka Hiwahiwa Kamakahi a Moanalihaikawaokele laua o Laukieleula, ke Alii nui o Kahakaekaea, a me Nuumealani. Aia hoi he leo uwa, "Ka Hiwahiwa a Hulumaniani--e! Ka Makaula nui mana! E Hulumaniani--e! Homai he ola!" Mai ke kakahiaka a ahiahi ka uwa ana, ua paa ka leo, o ke kuhikuhi wale iho no a ka lima aohe leo, me ke kunou ana o ke poo, no ka mea, ua paa ka leo i ka uwa ia Kaonohiokala. Ia manawa a Kaonohiokala e nana mai ana i ka honua nei, aia hoi, e aahu mai ana o Laieikawai i ke kapa anuenue a kona kaikuahine (Kahalaomapuana) i lawe mai ai, alaila, maopopo ae la ia ia o Laieikawai no keia, ka wahine hoopalau ana. Ma ka ehu ahiahi, ma ka puka ana mai a ka mahina konane o Mahealani, hiki mai la iloko o ke anapuni a ka Makaula. Ia Kaonohiokala i hiki mai ai, moe kukuli iho la kona mau kaikuahine, a me ka Makaula imua o ka Hiwahiwa. A o Laieikawai kekahi, i ka Hiwahiwa i ike mai ai ia Laieikawai e hoomaka ana e kukuli; kahea mai la ka Hiwahiwa, "E kuu Haku wahine, e Laieikawai e! mai kukuli oe, ua like no kaua." "E kuu Haku, he weliweli ko'u, a me ka haalulu nui. A ino i manao oe e lawe i kuu ola nei, e pono ke lawe aku, no ka mea, aole wau i halawai me kekahi mea weliweli nui mamua e like me keia," wahi a Laieikawai. "Aole au i hiki mai e lawe i kou ola, aka, ma ka huakai a kuu kaikuahine i hiki ae nei i o'u la, a nolaila, ua haawi mai wau i hoailona no'u e ike ai ia oe, a e maopopo ai ia'u o oe kuu wahine hoopalau, a nolaila ua hele mai au e hooko e like me kana kii ana ae nei," pela aku o Kaonohiokala. A lohe kona mau kaikuhine a me ka Makaula pu, alaila hooho maila lakou me ka leo olioli: "Amama! Amama! Amama! Ua noa, lele wale, aku la." Ala ae lakou i luna me ka maka olioli. Ia manawa, kahea iho la oia i kona mau kaikuahine, "Ke lawe nei wau i kuu wahine, a ma kela po e hiki hou mai maua." Alaila, kailiia aku la kana wahine me ka ike oleia e kona mau hoa, aka, o ka Makaula ka mea i ike aweawea aku i ka laweia ana ma ke anuenue a noho i loko o ka Mahina, malaila i hooiaio ai laua i ko laua mau minute oluolu. A ma kekahi po ae, i ka mahina e konane oluolu ana, i ka wa hapa o ka lai. Kuuia mai la kekahi anuenue i uliliia mai luna mai o ka mahina a hiki i lalo nei, i ka wa e kupono ana ka mahina i luna pono o Honopuuwaiakua. Ia manawa, iho mai la na'lii o ka lewa me ko laua ihiihi nui a ku mai la i mua o ka Makaula, me ka olelo iho, "E hele ae oe e kala aku i na mea a pau i hookahi anahulu, e hoohuiia ma kahi hookahi, alaila, e hoopuka aku wau i olelo hoopai no ka poe i hana ino mai ia oukou. "A pau na la he umi, alaila e hui hou kaua, a na'u no e hai aku i ka mea e pono ai ke hana oe, a me kau mau kaikamahine pu me oe." A pau keia mau olelo, hele aku la ka Makaula, a hala ia, alaila kaili puia aku la na kaikuahine elima i luna a noho pu me ia i ka olu o ka Mahina. I ka Makaula i kaapuni ai mamuli o ka olelo a ka Hiwahiwa, aole oia i halawai me kekahi kanaka hookahi, no ka mea, ua pau i uka o Pihanakalani, kahi i oleloia he lanakila. A pau na la he umi, hiki aku ka Makaula i Honopuwaiakua, aia hoi ua mehameha. Ia manawa, halawai mai la me ia o Kaonohiokala, a hai aku la i kana olelo hoike no kana oihana kaapuni e like me ke kauoha a ka Hiwahiwa. Ia manawa kaili puia aku la ka Makaula a noho i ka mahina. A i ke kakahiaka o kekahi la ae, ma ka puka ana mai o ka la, i ka wa i haalele iho ai na kukuna wela o ka la i na mauna. Ia manawa ka hoomaka ana o ka Hiwahiwa e hoopai ia Aiwohikupua a me Waka pu. Haawiia ka make no Waka, a o Aiwohikupua, hoopaiia aku la ia e lilo i kanaka ilihune, e aea haukae ana maluna o ka aina a hiki i kona mau la hope. Ma ke noi a Laieikawai, e hoopakele ia Laielohelohe a me kana kane, nolaila, ua maalo ae ka pilikia mai o laua ae, a no laua kekahi kuleana ma ka aina ma ia hope iho. I ke kakahiaka nae, i ka hoomaka ana o ka luku ia Aiwohikupua a me Waka. Aia hoi, o ke anaina i akoakoa ma Pihanakalani, ike aku la lakou i ke anuenue i kuuia mai ma ka mahina mai, i uliliia i na kukuna wela o ka la. Alaila, ia manawa akoakoa lakou a pau, ka Makaula, a me na kaikamahine elima e kau mai ana ma ke ala i uliliia, a o Kaonohiokala me Laieikawai ma ke kaawale, a he mau kapuai ko laua me he ahi la. Oia ka manawa a Aiwohikupua a me Waka i haula ai i ka houna, me ka apono i ka olelo a ka Makaula. A pau ka hoopai a ke Alii no na enemi, hoonoho ae la ke Alii oluna ia Kahalaomapuana i Moi, a hoonoho pakahi aku la i na kaikuahine ona ma na mokupui. A o Kekalukaluokewa no ke Kuhina Nui, a me Laielohelohe, a o ka Makaula no ko lakou mau hoa kuka ma ke ano Kuhina Nui. A pau ka hooponopono ana no keia mau mea a pono ka noho ana, kaili puia aku la o Laieikawai e kana kane ma ke anuenue iloko o na ao kaalelewa a noho nia kahi mau o kana kane. Ina e hewa kona mau kaikuahine, alaila na Kahalaomapuana e lawe ka olelo hoopii imua o ke Alii. Aka, aole i loaa ka hewa o kona mau kaikuahine ma ia hope iho a hiki i ka haalele ana i keia ao. MOKUNA XXXI Mahope o ko Laieikawai hoao ana me Kaonohiokala, me ka hooponopono i ka noho ana o kona mau kaikuahine, ka Makaula, a me Kekalukaluokewa ma; a pau keia mau mea i ka hooponoponoia, hoi aku la laua iluna o ka aina i oleloia o Kahakaekaea, o noho ma ka pea kapu o Kukulu o Tahiti. A no ka lilo ana o Laieikawai i wahine mau ma ka berita paa, nolaila, haawiia ae la ia ia kekahi mau hana mana a pau ma ke ano Akua, e like me kana kane; koe nae ka mana hiki ole ke ike i na mea huna, a me na hana pohihihi i hanaia ma kahi mamao, no kana kane wale no. Mamua nae o ko laua haalele ana ia Kauai, a hoi aku iluna, ua hanaia kekahi olelo hooholo iloko o ko lakou akoakoa ana; ma ka ahaolelo hooponopono aupuni ana. Oia hoi, i ka la i kuuia mai ai ke alanui anuenue mai Nuumealani mai, a kau aku la o Kaonohiokala, a me Laieikawai maluna o ke ala anuenue i oleloia, a waiho mai la i kona leo kauoha hope i kona mau hoa, ka Makaula, a me Laielohelohe, eia kana olelo: "E o'u mau hoa, a me ko kakou makuakane Makaula, kuu kaikaina i ka aa hookahi, a me ka kaua kane; ke hoi nei au mamuli o ka mea a kakou i kuka ai, a ke haalele nei wau ia oukou, a hoi aku i kahi hiki ole ia oukou ke ike koke ae; nolaila, e nana kekahi i kekahi me ka noho like, no ka mea, ua hoopomaikai like ia oukou, aole kekahi mea o oukou i hooneleia i ka pomaikai. Aka, oia nei (Kaonohiokala) no ko maua mea e hiki mai i o oukou nei, e ike i ka pono o ko oukou noho ana." A pau keia mau mea, laweia aku la laua me ko laua ike oleia. A e like me ka olelo, "o Kaonohiokala ka mea iho mai e ike i ka pono o kona mau hoa," oia kekahi kumu i haunaele ai ko Laieikawai ma noho ana me kana kane. Ia Laieikawai ma ko laua wahi me kana kane, he mea mau ia Kaonohiokala ka iho pinepine mai ilalo nei e ike i ka pono o kona mau kaikuahine, a me kana wahine opio (Laielohelohe), ekolu iho ana i ka makahiki hookahi. Elima paha makahiki ka loihi o ko laua noho ana ma ka hoohiki paa o ka berita mare; a i ke ono paha o ka makahiki o ko Laieikawai ma noho pono ana me kana kane, ia manawa, haula iho la o Kaonohiokala i ka hewa me Laielohelohe; me ka ike ole o na mea e ae i keia haule ana i ka hewa. I ka ekolu malama o Laieikawai ma iluna, iho mai la o Kaonohiokala e ike i ka pono o kona mau kaikuahine, a hoi aku la me Laieikawai, pela i kela a me keia hapakolu o ka makahiki, a i ka ekolu makahiki o ko Kaonohiokala huakai makai i ka pono o kona mau kaikuahine; aia hoi, ua hookanaka makua loa ae la kana wahine opio (Laielohelohe), alaila, ua pii mai a mahuahua ka wahine maikai, a oi ae mamua o kona kaikuaana o Laieikawai. Aole nae i haula o Kaonohiokala ia manawa i ka hewa, aka, ua hoomaka ae kona kuko ino e hana i ka mea pono ole. I kela hele ana keia hele ana a Kaonohiokala i kana hana niau ilalo nei, a hiki i ka eha makahiki; aia hoi, ua hoomahuahuaia mai ka nani o Laielohelohe mamua o kana ike mua ana, a mahuahua loa ae la ka manao ino o Kaonohiokala; aka, ma kona ano keiki Akua, hoomanawanui aku la no oia e pale ae i kona kuko, hookahi paha minute e lele aku ai ke kuko mai ona aku, alaila, pili mai la no. I ka lima o ka makahiki, ma ka pau ana o ka hapaha mua o ua makahiki la, iho hou mai la o Kaonohiokala i kana hana mau ilalo nei. I kela manawa, ua kailiia aku ko Kaonohiokala manao maikai mai ona aku a kaawale loa, a haule iho la oia i ka hewa. I kela manawa no hoi, ia ia e halawai la me kona, mau kaikuahine, a me ka Makaula hoi, ka pinualua a me ka laua wahine hoi (Laielohelohe), hoomaka ae la o Kaonohiokala e hooponopono hou no ke aupuni, a nolaila, ua hoomaka hou ka ahaolelo. A i mea e pono ai ko ke Alii manao kolohe, hoolilo ae la oia i kona mau kaikuahine i poe kiai no ka aina i oleloia o Kealohilani, a na lakou e hooponopono pu me Mokukelekahiki i ka noho ana, a me na hana a pau e pili ana i ka aina. A ike ae la kekahi o kona mau kaikuahine, ua oi aku ka hanohano mamua o keia noho ana, no ka mea, ua hooliloia i mau alii no kahi hiki ole ia lakou ke noho e lawelawe pu me Mokukelekahiki, nolaila, hooholo ae la lakou i ka ae mamuli o ka olelo a ko lakou kaikunane. Aka, o Kahalaomapuana, aole oia i ae aku e hoi iloko o Kealohilani; no ka mea, ua oi aku kona minamina i ka hanohano mau i loaa ia ia mamua o ka hoi ana i Kealohilani. A no ko Kahalaomapuana ae ole, hoopuka aku la oia i kana olelo imua o kona kaikunane, "E kuu Lani, ma kou hoolilo ana ae nei ia makou e hoi i Kealohilani, a o lakou no ke hoi, a owau nei la, e noho ae no wau ilalo nei, e like me kau hoonoho mua ana; no ka mea, ke aloha nei wau i ka aina a me na makaainana, a ua maa ae nei no hoi ka noho ana; a ina owau no malalo nei, o oe no maluna mai, a o lakou nei hoi iwaena ae nei, alaila, pono iho no kakou, like loa me ka hanau ana mai a ko kakou makuahine, no ka mea, nau i wahi ke alanui, a o kou mau pokii hoi, hele aku mahope ou, a na'u hoi i pani aku, o ke oki no ia, a oia la." A no keia olelo a kona kaikuahine muli loa, manao iho la, oia, ua pono ka olelo a kona kaikuahine. Aka, no ke ake nui o Kaonohiokala e kaawale aku oia i kahi e, i mea e ike oleia'i kona kalohe ana, nolaila, hailona aku la oia i kona mai Kaikuahine, a o ka mea e ku ai ka hailona, oia ke hoi iloko o Kealohilani. I aku la o Kaonohiokala i kona mau kaikuahine, "E hele oukou e u-u mai i pua Kilioopu, aole e hui i ko oukou hele ana, e hele oukou ma ke kaawale kekahi i kekahi, a loaa, alaila, e hoi mai ko oukou mua a haawi mai ia'u, e like me ko hanau ana, pela oukou e heleai, a pela no hoi oukou ke hoi mai, a o ka mea loihi o kana Kilioopu, oia ke hoi i Kealohilani." Hele aku la kela a me keia o lakou ma ke kaawale, a hoi mai la e like me ka mea i oleloia ia lakou. Hele aku la ka mea mua, a huhuki mai la elua iniha paha ka loihi o kana, a o ka lua hoi, huhuki mai la, a oki ae la i kana Kilioopu ekolu iniha a me ka hapa paha; a o ke kolu hoi, huhuki mai la i kana Kilioopu, elua iniha paha ka loihi; a o ka eha o lakou hookahi iniha paha ka loihi o kana, a o Kahalaomapuana hoi, aole oia i huhuki mai ma ke Kilioopu loloa, huhuki mai la oia ma ka mea liilii loa, ekolu kapuai paha kona loa; a oki ae la oia i ka hapalua o kana, a hoi aku la, me ka manao o kana Kilioopu ka pokole. Aka, i ka hoohalike ana, kiola aku la ka mua i kana imua o ko lakou kaikunane, ike aku la o Kahalaomapuana i ka ka mua, he mea kahaha loa ia ia, nolaila, momoku malu ae la oia i kana iloko o kona aahu, aka, ua ike aku la kona kaikunane i kana hana, i aku la, "E Kahalaomapuana, mai hana malu oe, e waiho i kau Kilioopu pela." Kiola aku la na mea i koe i ka lakou, aka, o Kahalaomapuana, aole i hoike mai, i mai nae "Ua ku ia'u ka hailona." A no keia mea, koi aku la oia i kona kaikunane e hailona hou; e hailona hou ana, ku hou no ia Kahalaomapuana ka hailona; aole olelo i koe a Kahalaomapuana, no ka mea, ua ku ka hailona ia ia. Oia hoi, he mea kaumaha nae ia Kahalaomapuana, ke kaawale ana'ku mai kona noho Alii aku, a me na makaainana, no ka mea, ua hoopouliia ko ke Alii wahine naau makemake ole e hoi i Kealohilani e ka hailona. A i ka la o Kahalaomapuana i hoi ai i Kealohilani, kuuia mai la ke anuenue mai luna mai a hiki ilalo nei. Ia manawa, hai aku la oia i kana olelo imua o kona kaikunane, me ka i aku, "E ku ke alanui o kuu Lani pela, e kali no na la he umi, e hoakoakoaia mai na'lii, a me na makaainana a pau, i hoike aku ai wau i ko'u aloha nui ia lakou mamua o kou lawe ana aku ia'u." A ike iho la o Kaonohiokala, ua pono ka olelo a kona kaikuahine hooholo ae la oia i kona manao ae; alaila, lawe houia aku la ke alanui iluna me kona kaikunane pu. A i ka umi o ka la, kuuia mai la ua alanui nei imua o ke anaina, a kau aku la o Kahalaomapuana iluna o ke alanui ulili i hoomakaukauia nona, a huli mai la me ka naau kaumaha, i hoopihaia kona mau maka i na kulu wai o Kulanihakoi, me ka i mai, "E na'lii, na makaainana, ke haalele nei wau ia oukou, ke hoi nei wau i ka aina a oukou i ike ole ai, owau a me o'u mau kaikuaana wale no kai ike; aole nae no ko'u makemake e hoi ia aina, aka, na ko'u lima no i ae ia'u e haalele ia oukou mamuli o ka hailona a kuu kaikunane Lani nei. Aka hoi, ua ike no wau he mau Akua like ko kakou a pau, aole mea nele, nolaila, e pule oukou i ke Akua, a e pule no hoi wau i ko'u Akua, a ina i mana na pule a kakou, alaila, e halawai hou ana no kakou ma keia hope aku. Aloha oukou a pau, aloha no hoi ka aina, oki kakou la nalo." Alaila, lalau ae la oia i kona aahu, a palulu ae la i kona mau maka imua o ke anaina, i mea e huna ai i kona manaonao i na makaainana a me ka aina. A laweia'ku la oia ma ke anuenue iloko o na ao kalelewa ma ka Lanikuakaa. O ke kumu nui o ko Kaonohiokala manao nui e hookawale ia Kahalaomapuana i Kealohilani, i mea e nalo ai kona kalohe ia Laielohelohe; no ka mea, o Kahalaomapuana, aia kekahi ike ia ia, he ike hiki ke hanaia kekahi hana ma kahi malu; a he kaikamahine manaopaa no, aole e hoopilimeai. O manao auanei o Kaonohiokala o haiia kana hana kalohe ana imua o Moanalihaikawaokele, nolaila oia i hookaawale ai i kona kaikuahine, a ma ke ano Akua o Kaonohiokala, na lilo ka hailona ia Kahalaomapuana. A kaawale aku la kona kaikuahine, a i ka pau ana paha o a hapaha elua o ka lima o ka makahiki, iho hou mai la oia ilalo nei e hooko i kona manao kuko ia Laielohelohe. Aole nae oia i hooko koke ia manawa; aka, i mea e pono ai oia imua o Kekalukaluokewa nolaila, waiho aku la oia imua o Kekalukaluokewa e pani ma ka hakahaka o Kahalaomapuana; a o ka Makaula no kona Kuhina Nui. A hoonohoia aku la o Mailehaiwale i Kiaaina paha no Kauai; ia Mailekaluhea no Oahu; o Mailelaulii no Maui a me na moku e ae; ia Mailepakaha no Hawaii. MOKUNA XXXII A lilo ae la o Kekalukaluokewa i poo kiekie ma ke aupuni, alaila, hoouna aku la o Kaonohiokala ia Kekalukaluokewa e hele e kaapuni ma na mokupuni a pau e lawelawe i kana oihana Moi, a hoonoho iho la ia Laielohelohe ma ko Kekalukaluokewa wahi ma ke ano hope Moi. A no keia mea, lawe ae la o Kekalukaluokewa i kona Kuhina Nui (ka Makaula), ma kana huakai kaapuni. I ka la i haalele ai o Kekalukaluokewa ia Pihanakalani, a hele aku la ma kana oihana kaapuni. Ia la no hoi ka haalele ana o Kaonohiokala ia lalo nei. Ma kela hoi ana o Kaonohiokala, aole nae oia i hiki loa iluna, aka, ua ike nae oia ia la e holo ana na waa o Kekalukaluokewa i ka moana. A no ia mea, hoi hou mai la o Kaonohiokala mai luna mai a hiki ilalo nei, a launa iho la me Laielohelohe, aole nae i hanaia ka hewa ia manawa. Ia laua me Laielohelohe e halawai la, noi aku la o Kaonohiokala ia Laielohelohe e hookaawaleia na mea e ae, a ma kona ano Mea Nui, ua hookaawaleia ko ke Alii wahine mau aialo. Ia Laielohelohe me Kaonohiokala o laua wale no ma ke kaawale, i aku la, "O ka ekolu keia o ko'u mai makahiki (puni) o ka makemake ana ia oe, no ka mea, ua ulu kou nani a papale maluna o kou kaikuaana (Laieikawai). A nolaila, ma na la hope nei, ua hiki ole ia'u ke hoomanawanui e pale aku i ke kuko no'u ia oe mai o'u aku." "E kuu Lani e," wahi a Laielohelohe, "pehea la e kaawale ai ia kuko ou mai a oe ae? A heaha la ka manao o kuu Lani e pono ai ke hana?" "E launa kino kaua," wahi a Kaonohiokala, "oia wale no ka mea e pono ai ke hanaia imua o'u." I aku la o Laielohelohe, "Aole kaua e launa kino e kuu Lani, no ka mea, o ka mea nana i malama ia'u mai kuu wa uuku mai a loaa wale kuu kane, nana ka olelo paa ma o'u la, aole e haawi i kuu kino me kahi mea e ae e hoohaumia; a nolaila, e kuu Lani e, na ka mea nana ka hoohiki paa ia'u e ae aku i kou makemake." A lohe o Kaonohiokala i keia mea, akahi no a hoomohalaia ke kuko ino iloko, alaila, hoi aku la oia iluna me kana wahine (Laieikawai). Aole nae i anahulu kona mau la i luna, uhi paapu houia mai la oia e na hekili o ke kuko ino, a hiki ole ke hoomanawanui no ke kuko. A na keia kuko, kaikai kino houia mai la oia mai luna mai e halawai hou me Laielohelohe. A no ka lohe mua ana o Kaonohiokala "na ka mea nana i malama" ia ia ka "hoohiki paa e ae aku." Nolaila, kii mua aku la oia ma o Kapukaihaoa la, e noi aku e ae mai i ko ke Alii makemake. A nolaila hoi, hele mua aku la oia a olelo aku ia Kapukaihaoa, "Ua makemake wau e lawe ia Laielohelohe e pili me a'u i keia manawa, aole nae no ke kaili loa mai, aka, i mea e hoomama ae ai i ko'u naau kaumaha i ke kuko i kau milimili, no ka mea, ua noi mua aku wau i ua milimili la au i kuu makemake; aka, ua kuhikuhi mai kela nau e ae aku, a nolaila, kii mai nei wau ma ou la." I aku o Kapukaihaoa, "E ka lani o na lani, ke ae aku nei wau ma kau noi e kuu Lani, he mea pono nou e komo aku oe me ka'u milimili; no ka mea, ua ike au i ko'u pomaikai ole no ka'u mea i luhi ai, ua upu aku hoi ko maua manao me ka mea nana i malama kau wahine (Laieikawai), o Kekalukaluokewa ke kane a ka'u hanai, ua pono no, aka, i keia noho aupuni ana, ua lilo ka pomaikai i na mea e ae, nolaila, ua nele wau. No ka mea hoi, ua haawi ae nei kela i na moku a pau i ou kaikuahine, koe hoi wau ka mea nana kana wahine i wahine ai, a nolaila e aho hoi ke ka i ka nele lua, a nau ka wahine a olua." A pau keia mau kamailio a laua ma ke kaawale, hele aku la o Kapukaihaoa me ke Alii pu a hiki o Laielohelohe la. I aku la, "E kuu luhi, eia ke kane, nohoia, he lani iluna he honua, ilalo, keehi'a kulana a paa, a nana mai i ka mea nana i luhi." Alaila he mea kanalua ole ia ia Laielohelohe; a lawe ae la o Kaonohiokala ia Laielohelohe, a hui oluolu iho la laua. Ekolu mau la o laua ma ka laua mau hana, hoi aku la o Kaonohiokala i Kahakaekaea. A mahope iho oia mau la kaawale, ua aaki paaia ke aloha wela i luna o Kaonohiokala, a ano e kona mau helehelena. Ia manawa, hoopuka aku la o Kaonohiokala i olelo hoopunipuni i mua o Laieikawai, oia ka ha o na la kaawale o laua, me ka i aku, "Haohao hoi keia po o'u, aole wau i moe iki, i ka hoopahupahu waleia no a ao wale." I aku o Laieikawai, "Heaha la?" I aku o Kaonohiokala, "Ua pono ole paha ka noho ana o lakou la o lalo." "Ae paha," wahi a Laieikawai, "aole no la hoi e iho." A no keia hua kena a kana wahine, he mea manawa ole noho ana i lalo nei o Kaonohiokala, a launa no me Laielohelohe. Aka, o Laielohelohe aole i loaa ia ia kona pilikia ma ka manao, heaha la ia mea i kona manao ana. Ia laua e hui ana ma ka makemake o ke Alii kane, ia manawa, ua ike ole o Laielohelohe i kona aloha ia Kaonohiokala, no ka mea, aole no o ke Alii wahine makemake iki e hana i ka hewa me ke Alii nui o luna; aa hoi, mamuli o ka onou a kona mea nana i malama wale no ka hooko ana. Hookahi anahulu paha o ko laua hana ana i ka hewa, hoi aku la o Kaonohiokala iluna. Ia manawa, ulu mai la a mahuahua ke aloha o Laielohelohe ia Kekalukaluokewa no kona haule ana i ka hewa me Kaonohiokala. I kekahi la ma ke ahiahi, olelo aku la o Laielohelohe ia Kapukaihaoa, "E kuu kahu nana i malama maikai, i keia manawa, ua poino loa ia'u ka manao no Kaonohiokala iloko o na manawa o maua i hana iho nei i ka hewa, a ke hoomahuahua mai nei ke aloha o kuu kane (Kekalukaluokewa) ia'u, no ka mea, i ka noho iho nei no ka i ka pono me ke kane, me ko maua maikai, a lalau wale no i ka hewa, aole no ko'u makemake, no kou makemake wale no. Heaha no la hoi kou hewa ke hoole aku, i kuhikuhi aku hoi wau i kou ae ole no kou hoohiki ana, aole au e launa me kekahi mea e ae, kaiona he hoohiki paa kau, aole ka." I aku o Kapukaihaoa, "I ae aku au e lilo oe i ka mea e, no kuu nele i ka haawina waiwai o ko kane; no ka mea, ma kuu maka ponoi nei no ka waiwai a ko kane i haawi ae ai, a owau no ke ku, nolaila, lilo oe, aole hoi au i manaoia ka mea nana ka wahine i wahine ai oia." I aku o Laielohelohe i kona kahu nana i hanai, "Ina o kou kumu ia o ka haawi ana i kuu kino e hoohaumia me Kaonohiokala, alaila, ua hewa loa oe; no ka mea, ua ike oe, aole no Kekalukaluokewa i hoonoho na mea maluna o na aina; aka, na Kaonohiokala no, a nolaila, apopo e kau wau maluna o na waa a holo aku e imi i kuu kane." I ke ahiahi iho, kena'e la oia i na aialo kane ona, na mea malama waa hoi o ke Alii, e hoomakaukau i na waa no ka holo aku e imi i ke kane. A no ke kumu ole o kona manao ia Kaonohiokala, nolaila huna iho la oia ia ia makolo o na hale kuaaina hiki ole ia ia ke noho, no kona manao o hiki hou mai o Kaonohiokala, hana hou ia ka hewa me kona makemake ole, oia kona pee ma na hale kuaaina, aole nae oia (Kaonohiokala) i hiki mai a hiki i kona hala ana i ka moana ia po iho. A hala o Laielohelohe i ka moana, a hiki ma Oahu, noho iho la oia ma na hale kuaaina. Pela oia i hele ai a hiki i ko laua halawai ana me Kekalukaluokewa. Ia Laielohelohe paha i Oahu, a ma kekahi la ae, iho hou mai la o Kaonohiokala e launa hou me Laielohelohe; aka, i kona hiki ana mai, aole o Laielohelohe o ka hale Alii, aole no hoi oia i ninau mai i ka mea nana e malama ka hale Alii, no ka mea, ina e ninau oia, manaoia e hana ana i ka hewa me Laielohelohe; aka, ua hai malu aku nae o Laielohelohe i ke kiai hale Alii i ke kumu o kona hele ana. A no ka nele o ko ke Alii makemake, hoi aku la oia i luna. O keia haula ana nae a na'lii i ka hewa, ua nakulu aku la keia lohe i ke alo Alii, ma o na aialo wale no nae, a ua lohe puia no hoi ko Laielohelohe makemake ole. Ia Aiwohikupua e kuewa ana ma ke alo Alii, oia nae kekahi i lohe i keia mau mea. A no ka lohe ana o Aiwohikupua i ko Laielohelohe kumu i holo ai e imi i ke kane; alaila i aku oia i ke kiai hale Alii, "Ina i hoi hou mai o Kaonohiokala, a i ninau mai ia Laielohelohe, i aku oe ua mai ia, alaila aole e hoi hou mai; no ka mea, he mea haumia loa ia ia Kaonohiokala, a me na makua o makou, aia no a pau ka haumia, alaila hana aku ma ka hana o ka hoku Venuka." Ia iho hou ana mai o Kaonohiokala, ninau i ke kiai hale Alii, alaila haiia aku la e like me ka Aiwohikupua olelo, alaila hoi aku la oia i luna. MOKUNA XXXIII Ua oleloia ma ka Mokuna XXXII o keia kaao ke kumu o ko Laielohelohe imi ana i kana kane ia Kekalukaluokewa. Nolaila, imi aku la oia mai Kauai mai a Oahu, a Maui; i Lahaina keia, lohe aia o Kekalukaluokewa i Hana, ua hoi mai mai Hawaii mai. Holo aku la oia ma na waa a pae ma Honuaula, ilaila lohe lakou o Hinaikamalama ka wahine a Kekalukaluokewa, aole nae i ike ko Honuaula poe o ka Kekalukaluokewa wahine keia. A no ka lohe ana o Laielohelohe i keia mea, lalelale koke aku la lakou a hiki i Kaupo, a me Kipahulu. Alaila, hoomaopopoia mai la ka lohe mua o lakou i Honuaula, a mailaila aku lakou a kau na waa ma Kapohue, haalele lakou i na waa, hele aku la lakou a Waiohonu, lohe lakou ua hala o Kekalukaluokewa me Hinaikamalama i Kauwiki; a hiki lakou i Kauwiki, ua hala loa aku la o Kekalukaluokewa ma i Honokalani, he nui na la i hala ia lakou ma ia hele ana. Ia hele ana a lakou a hiki i Kauwiki, ua ahiahi nae, ninau aku la o Laielohelohe i na kamaaina i ka loihi o kahi i koe a hiki i Honokalani, kahi a Kekalukaluokewa e noho ana me Hinaikamalama. Olelo mai kamaaina, "Napoo ka la hiki." A hele aku la lakou me ke kamaaina pu, a molehulehu hiki aku la lakou i Honokalani; alaila, hoouna aku la o Laielohelohe i ke kamaaina e hele aku e nana i ka noho ana o na'lii. Hele aku la ke kamaaina, a ike aku i na'lii e inu awa ana, hoi mai la a hai mai la ia lakou nei. Alaila, hoouna hou aku la no o Laielohelohe i ke kamaaina e hele hou e nana i na'lii, me ka i aku nae, "E hele oe e nana a ike i na'lii e hiamoe ana, alaila, hoi mai oe a hele pu aku kakou." A no keia olelo a Laielohelohe, alaila, hele aku la ke kamaaina, a ike aku la, ua hiamoe na'lii, hoi aku la a olelo aku la ia Laielohelohe. Ia manawa, akahi no a hai aku oia i ke kamaaina, o Kekalukaluokewa kana kane mare (hoao). Mamua aku nae o ko Laielohelohe halawai ana me Kekalukaluokewa, ua lohe mua aku oia i ka haula ana o Laielohelohe i ka hewa me Kaonohiokala, i lohe no i kahi kahu o Kauakahialii, ka mea i lilo ai i Kuhina Nui ma ka aoao o Aiwohikupua, a no ka lohe ana o ua wahi kanaka nei i ka hewa ana o Laielohelohe, oia kana mea i hele mai ai e hai ia Kekalukaluokewa. Ia Laielohelohe ma i hiki aku ai ma ka hale a Kekalukaluokewa e noho ana, aia hoi e hiamoe mai ana laua ma kahi hookahi, ua hoouhiia i ka aahu hookahi, e moe ana nae i ka ona a ka awa. A komo aku la o Laielohelohe, a noho iho la ma ke poo o laua (Kekalukaluokewa ma), honi iho la i ka ihu, a uwe malu iho la iloko ona; aka, ua hoohaniniia na mapuna waimaka o Laielohelohe no ka ike ana iho he wahine e ka kana kane, aole nae e hiki ia laua ke ike ae i keia, no ka mea, ua lumilumiia laua e ka ona a ka awa. Oia hoi, aole e hiki ia Laielohelohe ke hoomanawanui i kona ukiuki ia Hinaikamalama; nolaila, komo aku la oia mawaena o laua, a pale aku la ia Hinaikamalama, hoohuli mai la ia Kekalukaluokewa, a apo aku la i kana kane, a hoala aku la. Ia manawa, puoho ae la o Kekalukaluokewa a ike iho la o kana wahine; ia wa, hikilele mai la o Hinaikamalama mai ka hiamoe mai, a ike iho la he wahine e keia me laua, holo aku la oia mai o laua nei aku, me ka huhu nui, me ka manao hoi aole keia o ka Kekalukaluokewa wahine. A ike aku la o Kekalukaluokewa ia Hinaikamalama e hele ana me ka maka kukona, alaila, i aku la, "E Hinaikamalama, e holo ana oe i ke aha, me kou maka inaina, mai kuhi oe i keia wahine he wahine e, o ka'u wahine mare (hoao) no keia." Ia manawa, hookaawaleia ae la kona huhu mai ona aku, a paniia iho la ka hilahila a me ka maka'u ma ka hakahaka o ka huhu. I ka wa nae i ala ae ai o Kekalukaluokewa mai ka hiamoe ona awa ae, a ike mai la i ka wahine, ia Laielohelohe, honi iho la ma ke ano mau o ka hiki malihini ana. Alaila, i mai la oia i kana wahine, "E Laielohelohe, ua lohe iho nei wau nou, ua haule oe i ka hewa me ka Haku o kaua (Kaonohiokala), a nolaila, ua pono aku la no oe me ia, a ua pono no hoi wau ke noho aku malalo o olua, no ka mea, nona mai keia noho hanohano ana a aia no hoi ia ia ka make a me ke ola; Kamailio aku paha auanei wau, o ka make mai kai ala; nolaila, ma kahi a ka Haku o kaua e manao ai, pono no ke hooko aku, aole nae no ko'u makemake ka haawi aku ia oe, aka, no ka maka'u i ka make." Alaila, i aku la o Laielohelohe i kana kane, "Auhea oe, kuu kane o ka wa heu ole, ua pololei kou lohe, a he oiaio, ua haule wau i ka hewa me ua Haku la o ka aina, aole nae i mahuahua, elua wale no a maua hana ana i ka hewa; aka, e kuu kane, aole na'u i ae e haawi ia'u e hoohaumia i kuu kino me ua Haku la o kaua; aka, na kuu mea nana i malama ia'u i ae e hana wau i ka hewa; no ka mea, i ka la a oukou i hele mai ai, oia no ka la a ua Haku la o kaua i noe mai ai ia'u e hoohaumia ia maua; aka, no ko'u makemake ole, nolaila, ua kuhikuhi aku wau i ko'u ae ole ia ia; aka, i ka hoi ana iluna a hoi hou mai, nonoi ae la kela ia Kapukaihaoa, a nolaila, ua launa kino maua elua manawa, a no ko'u makemake ole, ua huna wau ia'u iho ma na hale kuaaina, a no ia mea no hoi, ua haalele wau i kahi au i hoonoho ai, a ua imi mai nei wau ia oe; a i ko'u hiki ana mai nei hoi, loaa iho nei oe ia'u me keia wahine. A nolaila, ua pai wale kaua, aole au hana no'u, aole hoi a'u hana aku ia oe; nolaila, ma keia po e hookaawale oe i kela wahine." A no keia mea, ua pono ka olelo a ka wahine imua o kana kane; aka, ma keia olelo hope a Laielohelohe, ia manawa, ua ho-aia ke ahi enaena o ke aloha wela o Hinaikamalama no Kekalukaluokewa, no ka mea, e kaawale ana laua mai ko laua launa hewa ana. Hoi aku la o Hinaikamalama i Haneoo, a noho iho la ma kona hale mau; i kela la keia la o Hinaikamalama ma kona Hale Alii, he mea mau ia ia ka noho ma ka puka o ka hale, a huli ke alo i Kauwiki, no ka mea, ua hoopuniia oia e ke aloha wela. I kekahi la, i ke Alii wahine e hoonana ana i kona aloha ia Kekalukaluokewa, pii ae la oia a me kona mau kahu iluna o Kaiwiopele, a noho iho la malaila, huli aku la ke alo i Kauwiki, nana aku la ia Kahalaoaka, a o ke kau mai a ke ao iluna pono o Honokalani, ia manawa, he mea e ka maeele o ke Alii wahine i ke aloha no kana ipo; alaila, oli ae la oia he wahi mele penei: "Me he ao puapuaa la ke aloha e kau nei, Ka uhi paapu poele i kuu manawa, He malihini puka paha ko ka hale, Ke hulahula nei kuu maka. He maka uwe paha--e. Oia--e. E uwe aku ana no wau ia oe, I ka lele ae a ke ehukai o Hanualele, Uhi pono ae la iuka o Honokalani. Kuu Lani--e. Oia--e." A pau kana oli ana, uwe iho la oia, a nana i uwe, uwe pu me na kahu ona. Noho iho la lakou ma ia la a ahiahi, hoi aku la i ka hale, kena mai la na makua a me na kahu e ai, aka, aole loaa ia ia ka ono o ka ai, no ka mea, ua pouli i ke aloha. A pela no hoi o Kekalukaluokewa, no ka mea, ia Hinaikamalama i haalele aku ai ia Kekalukaluokewa i ka po a Laielohelohe i hiki mai ai, ua pono ole ka manao o ke Alii kane; a nolaila, ua hoomanawanui oia i kekahi mau la mahope mai o ko laua kaawale ana. A ma kela la i Hinaikamalama i pii ai iluna o Kaiwiopele, a ma ia po iho, hiki oia i o Hinaikamalama la, me ka ike ole o Laielohelohe, no ka mea, ua hiamoe oia. Ia Hinaikamalama no e ala ana, e hiaa ana no kona aloha, puka ana o Kekalukaluokewa, me ka ike ole oloko o ka Hale Alii ia ianei. Ia Kekalukaluokewa i hiki aku ai, pololei aku la no oia a ma kahi a ke Alii wahine e hiamoe ana, lalau aku la i ka wahine ma ke poo, a hoala aku la. Ia manawa, ua hooleleia ka oili o Hinaikamalama me ka manaolana no o kana ipo; aka, i ka lalau ana ae, aia nae o kana mea i manao ai. Ia manawa, kahea ae la oia i na kahu e ho-a ke kukui, a ma ka wanaao, hoi aku la o Kekalukaluokewa me kana hanaukama (Laielohelohe). Ma ia manawa mai, he mea mau ia Kekalukaluokewa ka hele pinepine i o Hinaikamalama i kela po keia po me kona ike oleia; a hala he anahulu okoa o ko Kekalukaluokewa hoomau ana e hana hewa me Hinaikamalama me ka ike ole o kana wahine; no ka mea, ua uhi paapuia ko Laielohelohe ike e ka ona awa mau, mamuli o ka makemake o kana kane. I kekahi la, kupu ka manao aloha i kekahi wahine kamaaina no Laielohelohe; noalila, hele mai la ua kamaaina wahine nei e launa me ke Alii wahine. Ia Kekalukaluokewa me na kanaka ma ka hale kahi-olona, ia manawa i launa ai ka wahine kamaaina me Laielohelohe, me ka i aku ma kana olelo hoohuahualau, "Pehea ko Alii kane? Aole anei he uilani, a kani uhu mai i kekahi manawa no ka wahine?" I aku la o Laielohelohe, "Aole, he maikai loa maua e noho nei." Olelo hou ke kamaaina, "Malia paha he hookamani." "Ae paha," wahi a Laielohelohe, "aka, i ka'u ike aku a maua e noho nei, he oluolu ko maua noho ana." Ia manawa, olelo maopopo aku la ke kamaaina me ka i aku, "Auhea oe? O ka maua mahinaai aia ma kapa alanui ponoi; i ka wanaao, ala aku la ka'u kane i ka mahiai ma ua mahinaai nei a maua, i kuu kane nae e mahiai ana, hoi mai ana no o Kekalukaluokewa mai Haneoo mai, manao koke ae la no kuu kane me Hinaikamalama no, hoi ae kuu kane a olelo ia'u, aole nae wau i hoomaopopo. A ma ia po mai, i ka puka'na mahina, ala ae la wau me ka'u kane, a iho aku la i ka paeaea aweoweo ma ke kai o Haneoo; ia maua e hele ana, a hiki i ke alu kahawai, nana aku la maua e hoea mai ana keia mea maluna o ke ahua i hala hope ia maua; ia manawa, alu ae la maua e pee ana, aia nae o Kekalukaluokewa keia e hele nei, alaila, ukali aku la maua ma ko iala mau kapuai, a hiki maua ma kahi kokoke i ka hale o Hinaikamalama, aia nae ua komo aku no o Kekalukaluokewa; ia maua i ka lawai-a, a hoi mai maua a ma kahi no a makou i halawai mua ai, loaa iho la maua ia Kekalukaluokewa e hele ana, aole ana olelo ia aole hoi a maua olelo ia ia. Pau ia; i keia la hoi, olelo ponoi mai la ke kahu o Hinaikamalama ia'u, he kaikuahine no kuu kane, anahulu ae nei ka launa ana o na'lii, na'u nae i hoohuahualau aku; a nolaila, hu mai ko'u aloha me ka'u kane ia oe, hele mai nei wau e hai aku ia oe." MOKUNA XXXIV A no keia olelo a ka wahine kamaaina, alaila, ua ano e ko ke Alii wahine manao, aole nae oia i wikiwiki i ka huhu; aka, i mea e maopopo lea ai ia ia, hoomanawanui no o Laielohelohe. I aku nae oia i ke kamaaina, "Malia i hookina ai kuu kane ia'u i ka inu awa, ia'u paha e moe ana i ka ona awa, hele kela; aka, ma keia po, e ukali ana wau ia ia." Ia po iho, hoomaka hou o Kekalukaluokewa e haawi i ka awa, alaila, hooko aku la no kana wahine; aka, mahope o ka pau ana o ka inu awa ana, puka koke aku la o Laielohelohe iwaho o ka hale, a hoolualuai aku la, a pau loa ka awa i ka luaiia, aole nae i ike mai kana kane i keia hana maalea a kana wahine; a i ka hoi ana aku i ka hale, haawi mua iho la ua o Laielohelohe ia ia i ka hiamoe nui ma kona ano maalea. A ike mai la o Kekalukaluokewa, he hiamoe io ko kana wahine no ka ona awa; ia manawa hoomaka hou ke kane i kana hana mau, a hele aku la i o Hinaikamalama la. A ike o Laielohelohe, ua hala aku la kela, ala ae la oia, a ukali aku la ia Kekalukaluokewa me kona ike oleia. Ia ukali ana o Laielohelohe, aia hoi ua loaa pono aku la kana kane ia ia e hana ana i ka hewa me Hinaikamalama. Ia manawa, olelo aku o Laielohelohe ia Kekalukaluokewa, oiai aia ma ko Hinaikamalama wahi moe laua, "E kuu kane, ua puni wau ia oe, malia oe e hookina nei ia'u i ka awa, he hana ka kau, a nolaila, ua loaa maopopo ae nei olua ia'u, nolaila, ke olelo nei wau ia oe, aole e pono ia kaua ke hoomanawanui i ka noho ana maanei, e pono ia kaua ke hoi i Kauai, a nolaila, e hoi kaua ano." Ike mai la kana kane i ka maikai o ka manao o ke Alii wahine, ku ae la laua a hoi aku la i Honokalani. A ma ia ao ana ae, hoomakaukau koke na waa no ka hooko i ka olelo a Laielohelohe, me ka manao ia po iho e holo ai, aole nae i holo, no ka mea, ua hoomaimai ae la o Kekalukaluokewa, a nolaila, ua hala ia po; a i kekahi po iho, hana hou no o Kekalukaluokewa i kana hana, a no ia mea, ua haalele o Laielohelohe i kona aloha i kana kane, a hoi aku la i Kauai ma kona mau waa, me kona manao hou ole aku ia Kekalukaluokewa. Ia Laielohelohe ma Kauai mahope iho o kona haalele ana i kana kane; i kekahi la, hiki hou mai o Kaonohiokala mai Kahakaekaea mai, a halawai iho la me Laielohelohe. A hala eha malama o ko laua hui kalohe ana; he mea haohao nae ia Laieikawai keia hele loihi o Kaonohiokala, no ka mea, eha malama ka loihi o ka nalo ana. A mahope oia manawa haohao o Laieikawai, hoi aku la o Kaonohiokala iluna. Ninau mai la nae o Laieikawai, "Pehea keia hele loihi ou aha malama, no ka mea, aole oe pela e hele nei." I mai la o Kaonohiokala, "Ua hewa ko Laielohelohe ma noho ana me kana kane, ua lilo o Kekalukaluokewa i ka wahine e, a oia ka'u mea i noho loihi ai." A no keia mea, olelo aku o Laieikawai i kana kane, "E kii oe i ko wahine a hoihoi mai e noho pu kakou." Ia manawa no a laua e kamailio ana no keia mau mea, haalele aku la o Kaonohiokala ia Laieikawai, a iho mai la, me ka manao o Laieikawai e kii ana mamuli o kana kauoha, aole ka! I keia hele ana o Kaonohiokala, hookahi makahiki; ia manawa, aole o kanamai o ka haohao o Laieikawai no ka hele loihi o kana kane. Ua manao ae o Laieikawai i ke kumu o keia hele loihi, ua pono ole la o Laielohelohe me Kekalukaluokewa. A no keia mea, ake nui ae la oia e ike i ka pono o kona kaikaina, ia wa, hele aku la o Laieikawai imua o kona makuahonowaikane, me ka ninau aku, "Pehea la wau e ike ai i ka pono o ko'u kaikaina? No ka mea, ua olelo mai nei kuu kane Lani, ua hewa ka noho ana o Laielohelohe me Kekalukaluokewa, a no ia mea, ua hoouna aku nei wau ia Kaonohiokala e kii aku i ka wahine a hoi mai; aka, i ka hele ana aku nei, aole i hoi mai; o ka pau keia o ka makehiki o ka hele ana, aole i hoi mai, nolaila, e haawi mai oe i ike no'u, i ike hiki ke ike aku ma kahi mamao, i ike au i ka pono o ko'u hoahanau." A no keia mea, olelo mai o Moanalihaikawaokele, kona makuahonowaikane, "E hoi oe a ma ko olua wahi, e nana aku oe i ko makuahonowaiwahine, ina ua hiamoe, alaila, e hele aku oe a komo iloko o ka heiau kapu, ina e ike aku oe i ka ipu ua ulanaia i ke ie, a ua hakuia ka hulu ma ka lihilihi o ke poi oia ua ipu la. O na manu nui e ku ana ma na aoao o ua ipu la, mai maka'u oe, aole ia he manu maoli, he mau manu laau ia, ua ulanaia i ke i-e a hanaia i ka hulu. A i kou hiki ana i kahi o ua ipu la e ku ana, wehe ae oe i ke poi, alaila, hookomo iho oe i ko poo i ka waha o ua ipu la, alaila, kahea iho oe ma ka inoa o ua ipu la, 'E Laukapalili--e, homai i he ike.'Alaila loaa ia oe ka ike, e hiki ia oe ke ike aku i kou kaikaina a me na mea a pau o lalo. Eia nae, i kou kahea ana, mai kahea oe me ka leo nui, o kani auanei, lohe mai ko makuahonowaiwahine o Laukieleula, ka mea nana e malama i ua ipu ike la." He mea mau nae ia Laukieleula, ma ka po oia e ala ai e malama i ua ipu la o ka ike, a ma ke ao, he hiamoe. I kekahi kakahiaka, i ka wa e hoomaka mai ai ka mehana o ka La maluna o ka aina, hele aku la oia e makai ia Laukieleula, aia nae e hiamoe ana. A ike iho la kela ua hiamoe, hooko ae la o Laieikawai i ke kauoha a Moanalihaikawaokele, a hele aku la oia e like me ka mea i aoaoia mai ia ia. A hiki keia makahi o ka ipu, ka mea i kapaia, "KAIPUOKAIKE," wehe ae la keia i ke poi o ka ipu, a kupou iho la kona poo ma ka waha o ua ipu nei, a kahea iho la ma ka inoa o ua ipu nei, ia wa ka hoomaka ana e ike i na mea a pau i hanaia ma kahi mamao. Ia awakea, leha ae la na maka o Laieikawai ilalo nei, aia hoi, ua hana o Kaonohiokala i ka hewa me Laielohelohe. Iloko o keia manawa, hele aku la o Laieikawai a hai aku la ia Moanalihaikawaokele, no keia mau mea, me ka olelo aku, "Ua loaa ia'u ka ike mai a oe mai. Aka, i kuu nana ana aku nei, aia nae ua hewa ka Haku Lani o'u, ua hanaia kekahi hewa me kuu kaikaina, akahi no a maopopo ia'u na kumu a me ke kuleana o kona noho loihi ana ilalo." A no keia mea, he mea e ka inaina o Moanalihaikawaokele, a lohe pu ae la o Laukieleula, hele aku la kona mau makuahonowai i kahi o ka ipu ike, aia hoi, ike lea aku la laua e hana ana i ka hewa, e like me ka Laieikawai mau olelo. I kekahi la ae, akoakoa ae la lakou a pau, o Laieikawai me na makuahonowai, e hele e ike i ka pono o Kaonohiokala, a hooholo ae la lakou ia mea. Ia manawa, kuuia aku la ke alanui mai Kakahaekaea aku a ku imua o Kaonohiokala, ia wa, ua lele koke ka oili o Kaonohiokala, no ke alanui i kuuia mai imua ona. Aole nae i liuliu mahope iho o ko Kaonohiokala haohao ana. Ia manawa, ua hoopouliia ka lewa, a hoopihaia i na leo wawalo o ka hanehane, me ka leo uwe, "Ua haule ka Lani! Ua haule ka Lani!!" A i ka pau ana ae o ka pouli ma ka lewa, aia hoi e kau mai ana o Moanalihaikawaokele me Laukieleula a me Laieikawai, iluna o ke alanui anuenue. A olelo mai la o Moanalihaikawaokele imua o Kaonohiokala, "Ua hewa kau hana, e Kaonohiokala--e, no ka mea, ua haumia loa oe, a nolaila, aole e loaa hou ia oe he wahi noho iloko o Kahakaekaea, a o kou uku hoopai, e lilo ana oe i mea e hoomaka'uka'uia'i ma na alanui, a ma ka puka o na hale, a o kou inoa, he _Lapu_, a o kau mea e ai ai, o na pulelehua, a malaila kou kuleana a mau i kau pua." Ia manawa, kailiia aku la ke alanui mai ona aku la, mamuli o ka mana o kona makuakane. A pau keia mau mea, hoi aku la lakou i Kahakaekaea. (Ua oleloia ma keia Kaao, o Kaonohiokala ka _lapu_ mua makeia mau moku, a ma ona la na _lapu_ e auwana nei i keia mau la, ma ka hoohalike ana i ke ano o ka _lapu_, he _uhane ino_.) Ia lakou i hoi ai iluna, mahope iho o ka pau ana o ko Kaonohiokala ola, halawai aku la lakou me Kahalaomapuana iloko o Kealohilani, akahi no a lohe lakou aia oia malaila. A ma keia halawai ana o lakou, hai aku la o Kahalaomapuana i ka moolelo o kona hoihoiia'na e like me ka kakou ike ana ma ka Mokuna XXVII o keia kaao, a pau keia mau mea, laweia'ku la o Kahalaomapuana e pani ma ka hakahaka o Kaonohiokala. Ia lakou ma Kahakaekaea, i kekahi manawa, nui mai la ke aloha o Laieikawai ia Laielohelohe, aka, aole e hiki ma kona manao, he mea mau nae ia Laieikawai ka uwe pinepine no kona kaikaina, a he mea haohao no hoi i kona mau makuahonowai ka ike aku i ko Laieikawai mau maka, ua ano maka uwe. Ninau aku nae o Moanalihaikawaokele i ke kumu o keia mea, alaila, hai aku la oia, he maka uwe kona no kona kaikaina. I mai nae o Moanalihaikawaokele, "Aole e aeia kou kaikaina o noho pu me kakou, no ka mea, ua haumia oia ia Kaonohiokala; aka, ina he manao kou i ko kaikaina, alaila, e hoi oe a e pani ma ka hakahaka o Kekalukaluokewa." Aka, ua ae koke ae la o Laieikawai i keia mau mea. A ma ka la o Laieikawai i hookuuia mai ai, olelo mai la o Moanalihaikawaokele, "E hoi oe a me kou kaikaina, e noho malu oe a hiki i kou manawa e make ai, a mai keia la aku, aole e kapaia kou inoa o Laieikawai; aka, o kou inoa mau o KAWAHINEOKALIULA, a ma ia inoa ou e kukuli aku ai kou hanauna ia oe, a o oe no ke akua o kou mau hanauna." A pau keia kauoha, lawe ae la o Moanalihaikawaokele a kau aku la iluna o ke alanui, a kau pu aku la me Moanalihaikawaokele, a kuuia mai la ilalo nei. Ia manawa, hai aku la o Moanalihaikawaokele i na mea a pau e like me ka mea i oleloia maluna, a pau ia, hoi aku la o Moanalihaikawaokele iluna, a noho ma ka pea kapu o kukulu o Tahiti. Ia manawa, hooili aku la o Kawahineokaliula i ke aupunu i ka Makaula, o Laieikawai hoi ka mea i kapaia o Kawahineokaliula, ua noho oia ma kona ano akua, a ma ona la i kukuli aku ai ka Makaula, a me kona hanauna e like me ka olelo a Moanalihaikawaokele ia ia. A ma ia ano no o Laieikawai i noho ai a hiki i kona make ana. A mai ia manawa mai a hiki i keia mau la, ke hoomanaia nei no e kekahi poe ma ka inoa o Kawahineokaliula (Laieikawai). (HOPENA) 
19945	----	* * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES | | | | Accents and diacritical marks have generally been | | standardised. Where there is a single instance of a word | | with an accent, and one without, no change has been made | | to the original (e.g. Shigenari/Shigénari, Uesugi/Uésugi). | | | | The letter o with a macron is represented as o[u]. | | The letter u with a macron is represented as u[u]. | | The letter e with a macron is represented as e[e]. | | | | Kanji and hiragana characters in the original book are | | shown enclosed in square brackets: for example, [sara]. | | | | The italicisation of Japanese words has been standardised. | | | | Hyphenation and capitalisation has been standardised. | | | | Punctuation and obvious printer's errors have been | | corrected. For a complete list, please see the bottom | | of this document. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * [Illustration: EDO WAN (TOKYO BAY)] LEGEND. The outline of the map is that found in Volume I. of the Edo Sunago, published Keio 2nd year (1866). The detail of district maps found in the book is worked in, together with that from the sectional map of Edo published Ansei 4th year (1857), and from the Go Edo Zusetsu Shu[u]ran published Kaei 6th year (1853). The map therefore shows in rough outline the state of the city just before the removal of the capital from Kyo[u]to; the distribution of the castes. The Pre-Tokugawa villages (Eiroku: 1558-1569) indicated on the map found in the "Shu[u]ran" are:-- North and South Shinagawa: Meguro-Motomura: Gin-Mitamura: Mitamura: O[u]nemura: Upper and Lower Shibuya: Harajuku-mura: Kokubunji: Azabu: Kawaza Ichi: O[u]zawa-mura: Imai-mura: Sendagaya: Yamanaka-mura: Ichigaya: Ushigome: Kobiko-mura: Upper and Lower Hirakawa-mura: Ochiya: Sekihon: Ikebukuroya: Tomizaka-mura: Ishibukero-mura: Tanibaragaike: Neruma-mura: Okurikyo[u]: Nakarai-mura: Koishikawa: Zoshigayatsu: O[u]ji: Shimura: Takinogawa: Kinsoboku-mura: Harajuku-mura (II.): Komegome-mura: Taninaka-mura: Shimbori-mura: Mikawajima-mura: Ashigahara-mura: Haratsuka: Ishihama-mura: Senju[u]-mura: Suda-mura: Sumidagawa: Yanagijima: Jujo[u]-mura: Itabashi: Sugamo-mura: Arakawa (river): Kandagawa pool (_ike_): Kanda-mura: Shibasaki-mura: Shin-Horima-mura: Yushima-mura: Shitaya-mura: Torigoe-mura: Shirosawa-mura: Asakusa-mura: Harai-mura: Some-Ushigome: Ishiwara: Kinoshitagawa: Ubagaike (pool): Negishi-mura: Kinsoki-mura: Kameido-mura (near Ueno): Shinobazu-ike (pool). From South to North circling by the West. Shinagawa: Mita-mura: Takanawa: Near Imai-mura is a Myo[u]jin shrine, close by the mouth of the present Akabane river. Ikura: Hibiya: Tsukiji: Tsukuda: Tame-ike (pool): Tsukuda Myo[u]jin: Ota's castle: Sanke-in: Hirakawa-mura: Sakurada-mura: Honju[u]-mura: O[u]tamage-ike: Kametaka-mura. To the East. 77 villages, total. Pronounce as in Italian, giving vowels full value: ch- as in "church." [NIROKUDO[U] ISSUES] TALES OF THE TOKUGAWA II BAKÉMONO YASHIKI (THE HAUNTED HOUSE) RETOLD FROM THE JAPANESE ORIGINALS BY JAMES S. DE BENNEVILLE "Woman's greatest need, The base of all governance, Is governance; Seldom found, And rarely applied."--_Seishin_ YOKOHAMA 1921 PREFACE In 1590 A.D. the Ho[u]jo[u] were overthrown at Odawara by the Taiko[u] Hidéyoshi, and the provinces once under their sway were intrusted to his second in command, Tokugawa Iyeyasu. This latter, on removing to the castle of Chiyoda near Edo, at first paid main attention to strengthening his position in the military sense. From his fief in To[u]to[u]mi and Suruga he had brought with him a band of noted captains, devoted to his service through years of hardest warfare. He placed them around his castle ward, from East to South in a great sweeping arc of detached fortresses, extending from Shimo[u]sa province to that of Sagami. Koga was the chief stronghold on the North, against what was left of the Uésugi power. The most devoted of his captains, Honda Tadakatsu, was established at Kawagoé. Odawara, under an O[u]kubo, as always, blocked the way from the Hakoné and Ashigara passes. In the hands of Iyeyasu and his captains, the formidable garrison here established was not likely to offer opportunity of a second "Odawara conference," during which dalliance with compromise and surrender would bring sudden attack and disaster. At this period there is no sign that in his personal service Prince Iyeyasu made changes from the system common to the great military Houses of the time. The castle ward and attendance always were divided up among the immediate vassals of the lord. The basis was strictly military, not domestic. Even the beautiful _kami-shimo_ (X), or butterfly hempen cloth garb of ceremonial attendance was an obvious reminder of the armour worn in the field. Great statesman and warrior that he was, the Taiko[u] Hidéyoshi must have realised the difficulties confronting his House. The formidable power he had created in the North was no small part of them. On several occasions he sought a quarrel with Iyeyasu; sought to humiliate him in small ways, to lower his prestige and provoke an outbreak. Such was the trifling incident of the lavish donation required of Iyeyasu to the Hachiman shrine at Kamakura. But Hidéyoshi, as with Elizabeth of England, looked rather to the balance of cost against result, always with possibility of failure in view. When he died in 1598, and left Tokugawa Iyeyasu practically regent of the land, his expectation can be judged to be, either that the loyal members of the council of regency would at least balance the Tokugawa power for their own sakes, or that the majority of his son Hidéyori, then a mere infant, would witness no question of supremacy. In the one event the glory and prestige of his House would stand. In the second case the safety of his posterity would be assured. With his experience, and belief in the over-riding power of Nobunaga and himself, the first was as likely to happen as the second; and the influence of the Toyotomi House was the means necessary to insure to Iyeyasu the position already secured, against the jealousy of the other lords. Time showed that he granted a perspicuity and energy to the members of his council which Iyeyasu alone possessed. With Sekigahara (1600) the situation was definitely changed. In 1603 Iyeyasu was made Sho[u]gun, and the first steps were to organize the Eastern capital at Edo on an Imperial scale. The modest proportions of the Chiyoda castle of Ho[u]jo[u] times--the present inner keep--had already grown to the outer moat. Around these precincts were thrown the vassals of the Sho[u]gun. The distribution at first was without much method, beyond the establishment of greater lords in close proximity to the person of the Sho[u]gun. This feature was accentuated in the time of the third Sho[u]gun Iyemitsu. Immediately allied Houses and vassals occupied the castle ward between the inner and outer moats, from the Hitotsubashi gate on the North, sweeping East and South to the Hanzo[u] gate on the West. The Nishimaru, or western inclosure of the castle, faced this Hanzo[u] Gomon. From this gate to a line drawn diagonally north eastward from the Kanda-bashi Gomon to the Sujikae Gomon, the section of the circle was devoted to the _yashiki_ (mansions) of the _hatamoto_ or minor lords in immediate vassalage of the Sho[u]gun's service. Kanda, Bancho[u], Ko[u]jimachi (within the outer moat), the larger parts of Asakusa, Shitaya, Hongo[u], Koishikawa, Ushigomé (Ichigaya), Yotsuya, Akasaka, Azabu, and Shiba, were occupied by _yashiki_ of _hatamoto_ and _daimyo[u]_--with an ample proportion of temple land. It would seem that there was little left for commercial Edo. Such was the case. The scattered towns of Kanda, Tayasu, Ko[u]jicho[u], several score of villages on the city outskirts, are found in this quarter. The townsmen's houses were crowded into the made ground between the outer moat of the castle and the _yashiki_ which lined the Sumida River between Shiba and the Edogawa. In 1624 the reclaimed ground extended almost to the present line of the river. The deepening of the beds of the Kanda and Edo Rivers had drained the marshes. The use of the waters of the Kandagawa for the castle moat had made dry land of the large marsh just to the south of the present Ueno district. Thus Hongo[u], in its more particular sense, became a building site. With elaboration of the outer defences went elaboration of the immediate service on the Sho[u]gun. There was no sudden change. The military forms of the camp stiffened into the etiquette of the palace. The _Sho[u]inban_ or service of the audience chamber, the _Ko[u]sho[u]gumi_ or immediate attendants, these were the most closely attached to the Sho[u]gun's person. To be added to these are the O[u]bangumi or palace guard, the _Kojuningumi_ and the Kachigumi which preceded and surrounded the prince on his outside appearances. These "sections" formed the Go Banshu[u], the _honoured_ bodyguard. In the time of Iyemitsu a sixth _kumi_ or section was formed, to organize the service of the women attendants of the palace, of the _oku_ or private apartments in distinction from the _omoté_ or public (men's) apartments, to which the Go Banshu[u] were attached. Given the name of _Shinban_ (New) this _kumi_ was annexed to the Banshu[u]. This aroused instant protest. The then lords of the Go Ban inherited their position through the merits of men who had fought on the bloody fields of war. Now "luck, not service," was to be the condition of deserving. The protest was made in form, and regarded. Iyemitsu gave order that the Shinbangumi retain its name, but without connection with the Banshu[u]. At this point the confusion of terms is to be explained. All through the rule of the first three Sho[u]gun a gradual sifting had been taking place. Into Edo were crowding the _daimyo[u]_ who sought proximity to the great man of the land. Then came the order of compulsory residence, issued by Iyemitsu himself; seconded by the mighty lords of Sendai and Satsuma, who laid hands on sword hilts, and made formal statement that he who balked nourished a treacherous heart. The support of one of them was at least unexpected. The acquiescence of both cut off all opposition. Most of the ground now within the outer moat was devoted to the greater lords in immediate service on the Tokugawa House. The _hatamoto_ were removed to the outer sites in Koishikawa, Ushigomé, Yotsuya; to the Bancho[u], the only closer ward they retained; or across the river to Honjo[u] and Fukagawa. Those in immediate service were placed nearest to the palace. From the beginning the favoured residence site had been just outside the Hanzo[u] and Tayasu Gomon, across the inner moat from the palace. Hence the district got the name of Bancho[u]. _Go Ban_ ([go ban]) in popular usage was confused with ([go ban])--"five" instead of "honoured." In course of time the constant removals to this district made it so crowded, its ways so intricate, that one who lived in the Bancho[u] (Ban ward) was not expected to know the locality; a wide departure from the original checker board design on which it had been laid out, and hence the characters [bancho[u]] (Bancho[u]) used at one time. This, however, was when Edo had expanded from its original 808 _cho[u]_ (20200 acres) to 2350 _cho[u]_ (58750 acres). The original Bancho[u] included all the ground of Iidamachi, and extended to the Ko[u]jimachi road. Ko[u]jimachi (the _mura_ or village) was then in the Bancho[u], and known as _samurai ko[u]jimachi_ [ko[u]jimachi] (by-way), not the present [ko[u]ji] (yeast). In the time of the third Sho[u]gun the Bancho[u] was as yet a lonely place--to the west of the city and on its outskirts. The filling in process, under the Government pressure for ground, was just under way. Daimyo[u]-ko[u]ji, between the inner and outer moats, through the heart of which runs the railway spur from Shimbashi to To[u]kyo[u] station, was being created by elimination of the minor lords. At the close of Kwanei (1624 A.D.) all the Daimyo[u]-koji was very solid ground; an achievement of no little note when the distance from the Sumidagawa is considered. At Iyeyasu's advent to Edo the shore line ran close to the inner moat of the castle. The monastery of Zo[u]jo[u]ji then situated close to the site of the present Watagaru gate, was converted by him into the great establishment at Shiba; and placed as close to the waters of the bay as the present Seikenji of Okitsu in Suruga--its fore-bear in the material and ecclesiastical sense. The same rapid development of the town took place on the eastern side of the river. Honjo[u] and Fukagawa became covered by the _yashiki_ sites, interspersed with the numerous and extensive temple grounds. Iyeyasu was as liberal to the material comforts of his ghostly advisers, as he was strict in their supervision. One fifth of Edo was ecclesiastical. One eighth of it, perhaps, was given over to the needed handicrafts and tradesmen of the Kyo[u]bashi and Nihonbashi wards along the river, with a moiety of central Honjo[u]--and to the fencing rooms. The balance of the city site was covered by the _yashiki_. Thus matters remained until the Meiji period swept away feudalism, and substituted for the military town the modern capital of a living nation. So much for the Edo with which we have to deal, apart from its strange legends and superstitions, its malevolent and haunting influences, working ill to the invaders, daring to encroach upon the palace itself and attack the beloved of the Sho[u]gun and his heir, only to be quelled by the divine majesty of his look--as expounded in such tangle of verities as the Honjo[u]-Nana-fushigi (seven marvels of Honjo[u]), the Azabu Nana-fushigi, the Fukagawa Nana-fushigi, the Bancho[u] Nana-fushigi, the Okumura Kiroku, the temple scrolls and traditions, and many kindred volumes. In reference to the Bancho[u]: the stories outlined in the present volume date from the period of the puppet shows and strolling reciters, men who cast these tales into their present lines, thus reducing popular tradition to the form in which it could be used by the _ko[u]danshi_ or lecturers on history, or by those diving into the old tales and scandals connected with the _yashiki_ of Edo town. In the present volume main reliance for the detail has been placed on the following _ko[u]dan_:-- "The Bancho[u] Nana-fushigi" of Matsubayashi Hakuen. "The Bancho[u] Sarayashiki" of Momogawa Jo[u]en. "The Bancho[u] Sarayashiki" of Byo[u]haku Hakuchi, in the "Kwaidan-shu[u]" published by the Hakubunkwan. "The Bancho[u] Sarayashiki" of Ho[u]gyu[u]sha To[u]ko. "Yui Sho[u]setsu" of Ko[u]ganei Koshu[u]. These references could be extended. The story of the Sarayashiki figures in most of the collections of wonder tales. The Gidayu of the "Banshu[u] Sarayashiki" by Tamenaga Taro[u]bei and Asada Itcho[u] finds no application. It deals with Himeji in Harima. As for the stories from an esoteric point of view, as illustrations of the period they have a value--to be continued in those more historical, and which deal with the lives and deeds of men of greater note and influence in this early Tokugawa court. The present volume instances the second class of wonder tales referred to in the preface to the Yotsuya Kwaidan. O[u]marudani, 14th November, 1916. CONTENTS PAGE Preface v Map of Edo _Facing_ xii PART I. TALES OF THE EDO BANCHO[U]: WHO AOYAMA SHU[U]ZEN WAS 1 Chapter I. The Chu[u]gen Rokuzo 3 II. The Bakémono Yashiki 17 III. Nakakawachi Shu[u]zen 26 IV. The O'kagé Sama 38 V. The Report to the Tono Sama 48 VI. The Shrine of the O'Inari Sama 55 VII. The Luck of Okumura Shu[u]zen 64 VIII. Aoyama Shu[u]zen 76 IX. Shu[u]zen meets Shu[u]zen 84 X. The Meeting of the Gaman Kwai 89 PART II. BANCHO[U] SARAYASHIKI: WHAT AOYAMA SHU[U]ZEN BECAME 97 Chapter XI. The Yoshida Goten 99 XII. The Ko[u]jimachi Well 111 XIII. The Sen Himégimi (Princess Sen) 122 XIV. Shu[u]zen Adolescens 130 XV. The God favours Shu[u]zen 142 XVI. The Affair of the Asakusa Kwannon 150 XVII. Emma Dai-O[u] gives Judgment 156 XVIII. Kosaka Jinnai 165 XIX. A Matter of Pedestrianism 171 XX. The Affair of Kishu[u] Ke 179 XXI. If old Acquaintance be forgot 192 XXII. The Shrine of the Jinnai-bashi 201 XXIII. A Winter Session 212 XXIV. The Tiger at the front Gate; the Wolf at the Postern 218 XXV. Chu[u]dayu wins his Suit 229 XXVI. Sampei Dono 236 XXVII. Aoyama wins his Suit 245 XXVIII. The Sarayashiki 251 PART I TALES OF THE EDO BANCHO[U] WHO AOYAMA SHU[U]ZEN WAS. CHAPTER I THE _Chu[u]gen_ ROKUZO Rokuzo the _chu[u]gen_ sighed as he faced the long slope leading to the Kudanzaka. Pleasant had been his journey to this point. From his master's _yashiki_ in Ichigaya to the shop of the sandal maker Sukébei in lower Kanda it had been one long and easy descent. Sukébei had gratified Rokuzo with the desired and well established commission or "squeeze." Orders for sandals in the _yashiki_ of a nobleman were no small item. Rokuzo was easily satisfied. Though of a scant thirty years in age he had not the vice of women, the exactions of whom were the prime source of rascality in the sphere of _chu[u]gen_, as well as in the glittering train of the palace. At the turn of the road ahead Rokuzo could eye the massive walls of the moat, which hid the fortress and seraglio built up by the skilful hands of Kasuga no Tsubone in her earnest efforts to overcome the woman hating propensities of the San-dai-ke, the third prince of the Tokugawa line, Iyemitsu Ko[u]. Rokuzo was a _chu[u]gen_, servant in attendance on his master Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon, _hatamoto_ or immediate vassal of the commander-in-chief, the Sho[u]gun or real ruler in the land of Nippon since the long past days of Taira Kiyomori. Rokuzo had no great lady in charge of his domestic arrangements, one whose obsession it was to overcome his dislike of man's natural mate. Nor had he such mate to administer reproof for his decided liking for the sherry-like rice wine called _saké_. Sukébei had rigidly performed his part in the matter of the "squeeze"; but Rokuzo considered him decidedly stingy in administration of the wine bottle--or bottles. Willingly would he have sacrificed the commission for an amplitude of the wine. But even _chu[u]gen_ had their formulae of courtesy, and such reflection on his host would have been too gross. With a sigh therefore he had set out from the shop of the sandal maker, eyeing the wine shops passed from time to time, but not fortunate enough to chance upon any acquaintance whose services he could call upon in facing him over a glass. Rokuzo had the virtue of not drinking alone. Kanda village once passed, the _yashiki_ walls hemmed in the highway which ran through a district now one of the busiest quarters of the city. This sloping ground was popularly known as Ichimenhara, to indicate its uniformity of surface. There was not a hint of the great university, the long street of book-stores close packed side by side for blocks. Their site was covered by the waters of the marsh, almost lake, of the Kanda River, then being slowly drained into the castle moats. The top of the hill reached, at what is now South Jimbocho[u], the shops and houses of the one village hereabouts, Tayasu-mura, offered a last chance for diversion. The steep slope of the Kudan hill was now before Rokuzo, and beyond he had to pass through the lonely wood which harboured a temple to the war god Hachiman, and which covered the site of the present Sho[u]konsha or shrine to the spirits of the soldiers killed in Nippon's wars. This road ran through the San-Bancho[u], then a lonely quarter in which stood isolated from each other _yashiki_ of the _hatamoto_. The district was filling up, under press of the needs of the castle service for space immediately round about. But the process was a slow one, and the district one much suspected by the lower classes. Rokuzo was not fat. He was short, thick necked, sturdy with a barrel-like roundness, and, owing to his drinking propensities, endowed with legs the thinness of which found the conveyance of the upper massiveness no mean task. Hence he stopped at the foot of the hill to wipe the sweat from his face. He eyed with envy a low caste being, a _heimin_ and labourer. Clad in a breech-clout the fellow swung rapidly down the hill with his load of charcoal balanced at each end of the carrying pole. It was etiquette, not modesty, which confined Rokuzo to the livery of his master. He was compelled to a coat which, light and thin as it was, cut off all the breeze from his muscular shoulders. Well! Up the hill he must get. The rolling down was a matter of the past. The _yashiki_, the house officer (_kyu[u]nin_) to whom report was to be made, lay beyond. About to make the start a voice spoke in his ear. Though soft and gentle it would have had no particular attraction for the now thirsty Rokuzo. But apart from thirst Rokuzo was of the thoroughly good natured kind. He was surprised at the beauty of the face on which his eyes rested; still more so at the size of the bundle she was trying to carry, and which plainly was far beyond her strength. The rashness of benevolence overcame the not too energetic Rokuzo. Sigh as he did over the conveyance of his carcass up the steep hill, he sighed still more at thought of this fragile creature attempting to carry such a burden. She followed his eyes to the bundle. "Alas! Honoured Sir, what is to be done? The _furoshiki_ is far beyond one's poor strength. Though the distance is not great--only to Go Bancho[u]--yet it could as well be a pilgrimage to Isé. Surely the hills of Hakoné and Iga are no steeper than this Kudanzaka." She sighed; and apart from a weariness of voice there was a suspicion of moisture in her eyes. The more Rokuzo looked at her, the greater waxed his pity and benevolence. Barely of eighteen years she was a beautiful girl; not a servant, yet not one of the secluded and guarded daughters of a noble House. Perhaps she was the young wife of some soldier, and he was surprised at her being unattended. She noted this, and readily explained the fact. There were purchases yet to make, close by in Tayasu. Here a servant was to be at hand, but wearied by waiting the woman had made off. "To offer a wage, good sir, seems impolite; yet the way being the same deign to grant the favour of your strength." In the petition her face was wreathed in admiring smiles at Rokuzo's fine figure of a man. A light in the eyes, captious and coquettish, the furtive glances at his broad shoulders and stout neck, betrayed him into the indiscretion of volunteering a service promptly accepted. This done, the lady, without losing sight of display of her charm of manner, was all business. Rokuzo had much to learn, and he was not one to profit much by his lessons. If he was virtuous, he was by nature a very Simple Simon. A greater liking for women might by contact have sharpened wits rather dulled by drinking. As it was, anyone in the _yashiki_, who wished to shift some unpleasant obligation, found in Rokuzo the one to be impressed by the most specious excuse, and the one whose kindness of heart undertook and carried out the purpose of avoidance by assumption of the task. Instead of concocting some pretext to carry off Sukébei, or one, or all, of his apprentices to the neighbouring street and a grog shop, his inexperience and diffidence had carried him away still thirsty. Instead of bumping into some passing fellow _chu[u]gen_ on the street, and wiping out the insult with wine, he had idled along, leaving to every man his share of the roadway, and to the thirsty with burdens more than their share. Hence this uncongenial company of thirst and a woman. She had halted at a grocer's shop, and his eyes were soon agog at sight of her investments--mushrooms, not of much weight, but in bulk forming almost a mound; the dried sliced gourd called _kambyoku_, of which she seemed very fond; marrow, _to[u]gan_ (gourd-melon),[1] the new and expensive potato (_imo_), for money was no object in her purchases. A second shop close by caught her eye. Here were added to the pile the long string beans, doubtless to roast in the pod for an afternoon's amusement and repast, _kabocha_ or squashes, large stalks of _daikon_ (radish) two feet in length, _go[u]bo[u]_ or burdock, and a huge watermelon. The list is too long to quote except for the report of a produce exchange. Indeed it was rather a case of what she did not buy, on a scale to furnish forth a _yashiki_. Then she made her way to a confection and fruit shop just opposite the scene of her last purchases. Pears were coming into season--weighty in measure and on the stomach. But the lady was not frightened. She bought for yesterday, to-day, and to-morrows, in fruit and cakes of all kinds. Conveyed by the divers attendants her goods lay piled up at the last source of supply. Puzzled, she regarded the huge mass; then took eye measure of the shoulders of Rokuzo. They inspired confidence. She laid a gentle and admiring hand on his massiveness. She looked into his face with enticing smile. There was a silvery little laugh in her voice. Concealing their grins the shop attendants fled to their different haunts. Here they smothered cries and roars of coarse merriment; and one man nearly smothered himself by sticking his head in the brine cask. This _chu[u]gen_ was no servant of the lady. He was a volunteer conveyancer caught by a pretty face. They knew her. Rokuzo had more than sturdy shoulders. He stuck to his bargain. Plainly something must be done; and the lady did it. In a trice she haled him to a draper's shop. "A five-fold _furoshiki_--at once." The draper gaped not; he obeyed. The cloth was produced, and his several apprentices were engaged in sewing together one of those square package cloths, so convenient in the conveyance of scattered parcels. It was a portentous product, a very sheet. Obsequiously offered and accepted, the draper watched his customers depart with curious eyes. It was not the first of its kind bought by the lady. He hoped it would not be the last; for his own sake and that of his fellow traders. The money at least was always good. The girl must be popular and rich. A number of _chu[u]gen_ were employed in her service. Never did she bring the same man. Then the purchases were piled into one bundle. At this both Rokuzo and the dispenser of sweets were skilled hands. The lady looked anxiously up and down the road. She tripped into this place and that. Finally she came back to the bundle, looking as if about to cry. Of the servant's return there was no sign. Stolidly the shop-keeper maintained his pose. His shop could not be left to itself; the lady could not wait. Outside was the blazing sun of the sixth month (July), then at its hottest period of the hour of the ape (after 3 P.M.). She looked at Rokuzo. He twisted uneasily. His good nature yielded again to the caressing glance. "Come! As boy this Rokuzo has carried many a farmer's frame of grass from the mountain to Shibukawa village. Nay; many a sick man has he shouldered on the hills leading to the healing springs of Ikao and Kusatsu." He ran an eye over the bundle. "Ah! A terrific bundle; one to cause fright. There is nothing else to do." He would have liked to measure strength with this truant servant; doubtless a terrific female. The confectioner puffed and blew, with straining, swelling neck. The _furoshiki_ at last was on the shoulders of the unhappy Rokuzo. Fortunately the shops of Nippon have no doors. A most mountainous and monstrous wrestler, a very Daniel Lambert, can be carried forth feet first from such a front. The shop keeper followed the pair with his eyes. He passed his hand over the money. Then he looked again. The lady went lightly up the hill. Puffing and blowing at last Rokuzo was compelled to zig-zag on its steepness. Then she followed after his movements, gently encouraging him with words, and a cheerful pleased giggle that was a very goad in his rear. The grocer crossed to consultation with the baker. "Bah! He has a ring in his nose." Said the man of confections--"He is Rokuzo, _chu[u]gen_ of Endo[u] Sama. But the other day it was Isuké, _chu[u]gen_ of Okumura Sama, who did her service. And so with others. Truly entertainment at Yoshiwara costs less effort and wage. These cats are all one colour in the dark." The philosophic and cynical shop-keepers, each departed to his own place, arguing more shrewdness in a _chu[u]gen_, and the greater freedom, if less honour, implied in the gains and amusements of the townsman. Again and again the baker inspected his coin. There were still houses for women in the Ko[u]jimachi road. This satisfied his doubts. Encouraged by the lady Rokuzo reached the top of the Kudan hill. In all his experience of burden bearing never before had he shouldered the like. It seemed at times as if the lady herself had floated up on its broad surface, to deposit a weight far beyond her appearance. Perhaps she did; for Rokuzo, blinded by the pouring sweat, hardly knew what occurred. From time to time the sweet voice gave direction. Skirting the castle moat she led him up the short slope of the Gomizaka. A fitting name, thought Rokuzo. There were more than "five flavours" on his back, without counting the nasty taste in a very dry mouth. His journey was almost at an end. At least he had so determined, when suddenly the destination was reached. The lady knocked at the side door of a splendid gate set in a long stretch of wall. So much Rokuzo could see through the damp stream from his brow; and that the surroundings were very rural. A rattling of the bar and he turned eagerly to the gate. Its opening gave a vision of beauty. Clean swept was the ground beneath the splendid pine trees; graceful the curves of the roofs of the villa seen beyond; and still more beautiful, and little more mature than his companion, was the figure of the girl framed in the doorway. Forgetful of his burden Rokuzo gaged. Forgetful of etiquette the girl stared. She scanned Rokuzo from head to foot. The squat and sturdy figure of the man, in combination with the huge burden, turned him into some new and useful kind of beast. Astonishment passed into a smile; the smile into a mad burst of laughter in which the other girl more discreetly joined. "Ne[e]san (elder sister) the hour is late, but to-day the opportunity of assistance was slow to appear. With such sturdy support it was thought well to make ample provision."--"Provision indeed! Merry will be the feast. Truly sister, great has been the good fortune. Honoured Sir, deign to furnish forth the entertainment." Again came the merry peal, this time from both the girls. Rokuzo hardly appreciated such reward of his efforts. He had a strong suspicion that this merriment was directed at him; that the courtesy and gentle voices were on the surface. There was a snappy nasal sneering ring in the laughter, most unpleasant and savouring of derision. However there was certain to be something at the end of the task. Why neglect to take the reward now close to hand? He passed through the large gate, opened by the elder maiden to admit the size of his burden. Under her guidance he struggled along past the corner of the house and into the more removed privacy. Of this he could note the carefully kept inner garden, the massive old well curb standing in its centre, and the scent and strange beauty of the flowering plants. Attention was attracted by the conduct of his three employers; for another and older girl now made her appearance at the _ro[u]ka_ (verandah). She too gave the same short sharp exclamation of amusement at the sight of the porter and his portentous load. She leaped down quickly from the verandah and ran up to peer into his face. Then she went off into the same mad peal of laughter, in which she was joined without stint by her sisters. Rokuzo was now angry beyond measure; yet as a man and good natured he found it difficult of expression with such beautiful women. All the terms of revilement came to his lips--rude rascals (_burei na yatsu_), scoundrels (_berabo[u]mé_), vile beasts (_chikusho[u]mé_). These were freely loaded on himself in time of displeasure of master or fellows. But somehow now they stayed in his throat. "Rude"--yes; "rascals"--yes. These words reached to a murmur. But the crowning insult of calling these beautiful women "beasts" stuck in his gorge and he nearly choked. Said the oldest girl--and she was not over twenty years--"Sister, you are wearied by the heat and your efforts. Deign to enter the bath. All is ready. Come! We will enter it together." Hand in hand the three were about to depart. Rokuzo found speech. He stuttered in his indignation--"Honoured ladies! Heigh there! This bundle--how now? Truly it is as if this Rokuzo had been carrying a child. His back is wet through. It is very unpleasant. Where is the package to be bestowed? Deign to indicate." At the sharpness of his tone the elder girl turned in surprise. His anger dropped before the attraction of smile and address. Truly these creatures had attention but for the passing moment. "Ah! In joy at the sister's return the burden and its bearer have been completely forgotten. This is to be very rude. Aré! Honoured Sir, you are melting away with heat. Place the burden here. At the well yonder is water. Deign to wipe off the sweat which pours from your honoured person." At once with more than relief he deposited the huge package on the _ro[u]ka_. Pending its disposition Rokuzo devoted himself to his ablutions with decent slowness, to allow the idea of remuneration to filter into the somewhat fat wits of these ladies. At first he was inclined thoroughly to sluice himself inwardly. The water was deliciously cool to the outer person on this hot day. But on approaching the bucket to his mouth there was an indefinable nauseating something about it that made him hesitate. Again he tried to drink. Decidedly it was bad, this water; offensive for drinking. With a sigh he diverted the stream from his gullet to his shoulders. So pleased was Rokuzo with the experience that he repeated it again and again from the inexhaustible coolness of the well. Then with his head towel he began to wipe the nudity of his person, taking in at leisure his surroundings as he did so. Oya! Oya! It was indeed an extraordinarily beautiful place, this which he had entered. The care lavished upon plants and ornamentation was carried to extravagance. The eyes of Rokuzo opened wider and wider. Here was a splendid cherry tree in the full magnificence of its bloom. The square of this inner garden was completed by half a dozen plum trees laden with the scented blossoms, although the fruit hung heavy from the branches. At the opposite corner the polished red of the ripe persimmons made the mouth water. Beyond these trees and the house was a large and splendid bed of iris, the curious and variegated bloom counterfeiting some patterned screen. From the _ro[u]ka_ extended a wide trellis heavy with the blossoms of the wisteria. Lotus was in flower in the pond. Wherever he turned his eyes the affection of these ladies for colour and scent showed itself. Jinjo[u]ki, hibiscus, pyrus spectabilis, chrysanthemum, peonies, ayamé or the early iris, all were in mad bloom to please the eye. With growing fright Rokuzo gazed from side to side. What could be the social condition of these women, thus treated so familiarly by a mere _chu[u]gen_? The gardener surely was an extraordinary genius, such as would serve none but the truly great. This was a suspicious place. These thoughts were interrupted. Abruptly he approached the part of the house that seemed a sort of kitchen. The huge bundle had disappeared. The elder sister showed herself. The two younger girls held back diffidently in the rear. All showed amusement, but the freshness of the bath had wrought a change in manner, and made them still more lovely than before. Said the elder--"Thanks are due for the kindness shown. Though ashamed, deign to accept this trifling acknowledgment as porter's wage." She held out to Rokuzo a _hana-furi-kin_. This gold coin, worth a _bu_ (the quarter of a _ryo[u]_) was an extravagant fee.[2] Somewhat strange withal; struck off in the Taiko[u]'s day the savour of disloyalty was compensated by the "raining flowers" stamped in the gold. Rokuzo was still more frightened. Ladies of course were ignorant of values. Plainly these were ladies, of but little contact with the world. As an honest and somewhat simple fellow he would have refused the over-payment. But he was not eloquent in explanation, and the acceptance meant the speedier departure. Prostrate with extended hands he gave thanks. Then he thrust the coin into his bosom and rose in good earnest to depart. Here follows the fall of Rokuzo from the grace of good behaviour. On her way to a room at the end of the garden passed the youngest of the sisters. She was bearing a tray, the burden of which was _saké_ bottles. In the other hand was the heating apparatus, flask included. Rokuzo's nostrils opened wide at the delicious perfume. He stood stock still. As in some surprise the elder sister regarded him. Thereupon the wine bearer halted, in her pose holding the grateful steam directly under his nose. Said the first girl--"Is the wage insufficient? If so...." Rokuzo's nostrils twitched. The younger sister stopped a movement as of further bestowal. "Ah! This honoured Sir can carry more than burdens." She broke into a merry laugh. Said the sister--"Is that so? The _saké_ is object of desire." Beauty was now enhanced a thousand times by the benevolence of their demeanor. With tongue at last eloquent--"Ah, ladies! This Rokuzo is dying of thirst. The well here offers no means to quench it. But for the honoured encounter at Kudanzaka long since would the company at the wine shop of Ichigaya have been sought. For reward deign wine rather than coin." He made a movement as if to restore the gold, but the elder girl stopped him. "So then, Rokuzo likes wine. He shall have both wine and coin, and entertainment in addition." With the request from him their manner had changed. It was now more sedate and purposeful. Rokuzo hardly understood the further course of his experiences. Emerged from the bath he found himself seated before a plentiful repast. The viand contents of the monumental burden together with what sea and hill could provide--these figured. Rokuzo drank first, and plentifully. Never had he tasted such delicious wine. He knew that the Tono Sama drank no better _saké_; nor did his master occupy a more splendid apartment than this one of the wine feast. The silken figured _fusuma_ (screens), the fretwork crowning them, the many lamps--it was now dark--in bronze and precious metals, dazzled his small understanding. The women acted as attendants. Rokuzo sat long, now thoroughly fuddled. He listened to an orchestral theme, interpreted by _koto_, _fué_, _biwa_, or the _taiko_ (drum). Perhaps there were better voices. Even in their singing the three girls had that sharp, derisive, unpleasant, nasal twang. But Rokuzo was past criticism. To their questioning he told who and what he was; a _chu[u]gen_ in the service of his lord, Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon, _hatamoto_ in the land, and now in office at the fireward of the palace. Had he a wife? A _chu[u]gen_ is not one to have a wife. At this all the women seemed very pleased. They exchanged glances. The elder girl now came close to him. She nestled by his side and took his arm, looking coquettishly and smilingly into his face. "Rokuzo Dono has done much for three lonely women. Will he not do more? Why not remain as now, perform the tasks of this house? Does not the change of masters attract?" Rokuzo's latest remembrance of encounter with the honoured house officer (_kyu[u]nin_) of his master was the six days turn in the _yashiki_ prison, on very scant fare. His face was long at the thought. He was very remiss on this present occasion. What would happen? In the haze of his wine the voice of the girl continued. Her face was very close as she pressed on him. "Rokuzo Dono, deign to serve this house, meet its difficulties." For a moment Rokuzo broke the spell. "Difficulties? Of luxurious living and a splendid home? Such 'difficulties' make one laugh."--"Yet there are real difficulties. Three women--they have their difficulties. Be the man of the house; the man in the house. Condescend the favour." Restraint was thrown off. She held him in her arms and drew him close. Rokuzo's brain was in a whirl. Women? Women? Ah! The wine! His lips eagerly sought the cup she held to them. When she rose he allowed her gentle persuasion. The two other girls busied themselves in the preparations for the night. They whispered to each other; and there seemed to be some ground of division, but the elder had her way. She and Rokuzo were left alone. If Rokuzo sought solace in the arms of his mistress he certainly failed to find it. Never had such a nightmare descended on his slumbers. Through the night he was battling with most fearful visions, seeking to avoid tortures of hell. He had pursued his beauty into some huge cave. Now possession was secure. From this there was no escape. But it was no escape for Rokuzo. Now she turned into a huge obscene object, a very _rokurokubi_, one of those hideous monsters with lengthy neck, gleaming teeth, and distorted human-like face. Again there was change. He lay supine and helpless; and extended full length over him was a fox of portentous size. The sharp, yelping, nasal voice sounded in his ears. "Coin, wine, then lechery: Rokuzo would drink, then play the beast. The porter's wage is insufficient. Now let him pay the beast's wage." The sharp gleaming teeth were at his throat. The foul breath filled his lungs. Rokuzo struggled for air, shouted for an aid not at hand. "Drunkard; lecher." By a final effort he would free himself from the succubus--"Liar!... Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu! Holy the Lord Buddha!" A heavy chill went through his body, shaking him from head to foot. He opened his eyes. In amazement he looked around him. The magnificent apartment, the women, the garden, the feast, nothing remained of his night's experience. It was the chill of early dawn, and he was lying on the bare ground, in the midst of a wild grass grown and deserted moor. A tree root was his pillow. He rose to find the waters of the Kanda marsh under his eyes. He was still on the Ichimenhara. The Kudanzaka was yet to be climbed. Ah! He had been foxed, bewitched by reynard or _tanuki_ (badger). Then remembrance of the _hana-furi-kin_ came to mind. Here would be proof. He thrust a hand into his bosom--to draw out the leaf of a tree. There was no doubt about it. And the banquet? At the very thought of the viands Rokuzo squirmed. He made a gesture of nausea and disgust. The _saké_--was excrement. The food--worse yet. He felt very ill. His aching limbs and heavy head accompanied him to his lord's _yashiki_ in Ichigaya. Rokuzo took to his bed. At the porter's lodge the _kyu[u]nin_, Naito[u] Kyu[u]saburo[u], inspected the tickets of the _chu[u]gen_. At last Rokuzo had made his appearance; and had made no report. He was not long in reaching the _chu[u]gen's_ bedside. With severe face he questioned him as to his absence and neglect. "Gluttonous fellow! Something eaten is the cause of the sickness. Rascal that you are, a good purge is the thing. Then a fast in the jail will restore the stomach. This the punishment, if great your good luck. Otherwise--it will be the garden front. Report is to be made." He turned to go. Rokuzo detained him. He spoke with timidity, but under spur of the greater retribution. He admitted his fault. "But...."--"But what?" impatiently interjected Naito[u]. "Is not the food furnished by his lordship ample supply for the belly? Does a _chu[u]gen_ question his lord's generosity? What banquet tempted this rascal...?"--"Indeed it was a banquet." Rokuzo went into details. Kyu[u]saburo[u]'s rage increased. "You are lying. Or does illness follow food partaken in a dream? Perhaps the rascal Sukébei has not been paid. Is Rokuzo a thief?" Rokuzo groaned in pain and discomfiture. He would make a clean breast of it; confess to more than mere food. And he did. "Nor is Rokuzo the only victim. Isuké, _chu[u]gen_ of Okumura Sama of the Bancho[u], nearly lost his life. Others have been trapped; and others knew enough to refuse service and run away. Truly this Rokuzo is a fool. Condescend the honoured intercession. Ah, that banquet!" He shuddered at the thoughts aroused. At sight of the receipt of Sukébei perforce Naito[u] Kyu[u]saburo[u] believed. He pitied Rokuzo, administered the stoutest purges in his pharmacy, and left him somewhat relieved in mind and body. The tale was soon known all over the _yashiki_--to the profit of all and the amusement of most. With gleeful malice Rokuzo would be asked to describe his meal, the superlative flavour of the wine, for past fact and present fancy became strangely mixed in his recital. Thus, through the report of the _kyu[u]nin_, Naito[u] Kyu[u]saburo[u], the experience of his _chu[u]gen_ Rokuzo came to the ears of Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon, _hatamoto_ of the land, of four hundred _koku_ income, and officer in charge of the Hiban or fire-ward at the Ushigomé gate.[3] CHAPTER II THE _Bakémono Yashiki_ Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon heard the report of his officer. A slight frown puckered his brow, and he contemplated the big toe of his immaculately white _tabi_ (sock). "A vexatious matter! _Hatamoto_ of the land, official duty gives occupation enough. Yet for such things to take place, and so close to the person of the suzerain, this is not to be permitted. Beyond his love for wine Rokuzo has shown himself trustworthy. He is not lying?" Kyu[u]saburo[u] bowed low--"As your lordship says. Of his illness there is no question; and that not merely from a drunken debauch. Rokuzo is not one to be tempted by women; and to those beyond his station he dares not raise his eyes. It was the wine which tempted him beyond discretion. He has tried all patience, been most disloyal. The honoured dismissal or severe punishment at the least is his due. The Tono Sama summoning him to the garden front, and deigning the kindness of putting him to death (_te-uchi_) ... yet...." Hesitating he brought out the once _hana-furi-kin_, wage of the unfortunate Rokuzo, now in such danger of drastic remedy for his aching head. Respectfully pushing forward a knee the _kyu[u]nin_ presented it to his lord. Saburo[u]zaémon examined it with much curiosity. "And this?"--"The wage for his porter's work," answered the officer, his face respectfully wrinkled with the trace of a smile. "Though one could say from his exhaustion that he received other favour than coin. The very thought of his filthy repast drives the rascal to most fearful retchings. He is in a parlous way, and if your lordship deign forbearance...."--"Heigh!" He was interrupted by the exclamation of Saburo[u]zaémon, now examining the leaf most intently. "I say now! An oak leaf, the broad reminder of the _kiri_ (paulownia imperialis), such might come from last year's fall. This leaf never sprang from Nippon's soil."--"Just so," replied the _kyu[u]nin_. "Hence petition for delay in administering punishment."--"And of course the fellow is useless. Ill, and besides he knows not whither he went, and came to himself on the Ichimenhara."--"Yet, while still in his five senses, he recognized Go Bancho[u]; and it is fact that the _chu[u]gen_ of Okumura Dono suffered likewise in the Bancho[u]."--"Of Kakunai and the strange horse this Saburo[u]zaémon has heard. And the other man?"--"One Isuké, a stout fellow, but in good fortune the twin brother of this rascal Rokuzo." Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon rose to his feet with an elasticity and snap denoting decision. His wife standing close by laid hand upon his arm. He turned to meet her frightened questioning look. He spoke reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. Such things so near the suzerain's honoured dwelling are not to be permitted. This Saburo[u]zaémon goes to learn the facts as to this suspicious house. The _samurai_ has no fear of apparitions; and less of thieves, as is likely to be the case. Let the rascals look to themselves if they would avoid the taste of Saburo[u]zaémon's sword. Kyu[u]saburo[u] is to see that the _Yashiki_ is well guarded. To-night O[u]kubo Hikoroku Dono holds the fire ward. The occasion fits." At once he was busied with his preparations for out door service. His wife, granddaughter of old Nagasaki Chiyari Kuro[u]--he of the "bloody spear"--was the _samurai_ woman, to aid her lord in his duty, not to hold him back with tears and plaints. The pair were admirable specimens of their caste. Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon's grand-father had been a retainer of that hard hitting Asai Nagamasa who had to bow the head before the sword of Hidéyoshi. The son Kiémon perforce had served the Taiko[u], and well. It was with more than readiness that he had appeared in the army of the Tokugawa at Sekigahara, to be killed in all loyalty before O[u]saka in Genwa 1st year (1618). Saburo[u]zaémon was then but five years old. But the early Tokugawa did not forget loyal service. When of age he was summoned to Edo from his native province of O[u]mi, given duty in the palace service, to become with years a _hatamato_ with income of four hundred _koku_ and a _yashiki_ in Ichigaya, just beyond the Gomon or great gate at the outer moat. In the present matter night must be awaited. When the bell of the Gekkeiji, the huge temple of the district, struck the watch of the pig (9-11 P.M.) Endo[u] prepared to set forth. "In case of necessity ask the aid of Hikoroku Dono, of Juro[u]zaémon."[4] This to his wife. "At least one attendant? Kyu[u]saburo[u] is old enough to know that these rascals never deal with more than one human." This to the old _kyu[u]nin_, who with anxiety watched him depart into the darkness. With a sigh the officer shut fast the outer gate. Then, sword over his knees, he squatted himself at the house entrance, to slumber and await his lord's return. As officer of the fire ward Saburo[u]zaémon met with little difficulty in passing the Ichigaya gate, beyond which lay the suspected district of the Bancho[u]. To the sharp hail and protest at his appearance without a lantern he sought the service of those of the guard. Surprise and abject apology followed the bringing of face and equipment into their light. As on urgent mission to the palace he explained the one and disregarded the other. For form he borrowed a lantern at the guard house, to leave it in a hedge close by, to hand for his return if in the darkness. Straight ahead he walked for some distance. Now he was in the very centre of the Bancho[u]. It was a most lonely place. The district had been set apart for the _yashiki_ of _hatamoto_ and the houses of _gokenin_ who showed no haste to apply for its ample space. Its highways and byways showed lines of bamboo fences, plaster walls, broken at intervals by gates. Between the far _yashiki_ there was much waste land. Suspicious were its precincts in these days when the haunting spirits and apparitions, attendant on once owners and their wars, were being driven out by the advent and aggression of the new lords from the South. Still fresh in men's minds was the wondrous _mami-ana_ of Azabu--the cave of the _tanuki_ (badger)--with the implied curse on the Tokugawa. The cohorts of apparitions, driven northward to the land of savages, had suffered severely at the hands of Ii Naomasa on the banks of the Ueno Toshima ferry. Thus the curse came down the centuries on the Tokugawa House. Once in the heart of the district Saburo[u]zaémon stood uncertain. All sense of locality was lost. The Bancho[u] by day and by night greatly differed. The wind sighed through the great pine trees and whispered in the long _suzuki_ grass. He thought to reach the neighbourhood of the Gomizaka. The noise and bustle of the Ko[u]jimachi would give direction. Just then a lantern came in sight at the turning in the lane. As it drew near it was seen that to all appearance the bearer was a _chu[u]gen_. Endo[u] drew back into the shadow. He would take a good look at him. He allowed the man to pass. Then from behind--"Heigh! Wait!" Instead of waiting the fellow took to his heels. Endo[u] pursued and soon caught him. In terror the fellow sank on his knees before the two sworded man. "Deign, honoured sir, to spare the cutting test. This Isuké is yet young. He loves life. Condescend not to cut short his breath." Saburo[u]zaémon was struck by the name fresh to his ears. Coldly he looked the man over; played on his terror--"Yet you are fat; just of the girth to give fair test to a new blade."--"Nay! Your lordship can deign to observe it. Isuké is stuffed out with a recent meal. It would be but a case of tripes. His bones are young and soft, his muscles wasted by mere feeding. It would be as cutting _to[u]fu_ (bean paste). Deign to spare him." Said Saburo[u]zaémon. "'Tis no cutting test. Thus passing carelessly at the side that fat paunch was an easy mark. Be more careful henceforth.... You live hereabouts?"--"Honoured Sir, 'tis so. Isuké is _chu[u]gen_ at the _yashiki_ of Okumura Sama."--"Ah! Then you know the haunted house (_bakémono yashiki_) of the Bancho[u]."--"Just beyond? Isuké knows it too well."--"Life spared, act as guide thither." The man's knees bent under him. He plead for forbearance. Plainly he must die. Only to this dreadful sentence and sight of Endo[u]'s sword did he yield. Reluctantly he went ahead of the _samurai_, as far as a gate the massiveness of which attracted attention. Saburo[u]zaémon looked it over, then carefully considered his guide. He held out a coin. The fellow respectfully drew back. Said Endo[u] with impatience--"As lord of this mansion the money of guidance is offered. Accept it without question. Here lies my purpose." This was but addition to obvious terror. With wabbling knees the fellow persisted in refusal. "Honoured lord, deign forbearance. Already has this Isuké accepted entertainment here, with fearful results; nearly quaffing the waters of the Yellow Fountain in Meido." Said Saburo[u]zaémon sourly--"What has the purpose to do with a low fellow's entertainment? Take the coin, and be off with you. Darkness acts as screen." The man did but whimper, "With purpose in hand: truly darkness the screen, upside down; the balsam an incense, the sticks to hand in the clay dishes. This? 'Twill turn out but the leaf of a tree, to bring sorrow on Isuké. Your lordship has said it."--"It is good coin," replied Endo[u] briefly. Then with some curiosity--"But what has a tree leaf to do with purpose?"--"Pine leaves denote purpose, and are so named."[5]--"A clever fellow after all! No wonder he escaped.... But be off with you. The coin shall ring true with daylight. So much is promised on the word of a _samurai_. Fear the living man, not the inanimate object; and say nothing of meeting the donor. Otherwise Isuké ends badly. Now--off with you!" The voice was very human, the peremptory gesture surely that of a two sworded man. The _chu[u]gen_ took confidence in the fact that he could not help himself. Whatever doubts he possessed, these he kept with the coin in his bosom. With scant thanks cut short by fear he obeyed the order to depart into the shades. Gathering impetus with distance he fairly took to his heels. Saburo[u]zaémon waited for the lantern to disappear. Then he turned to inspect the gate. There was no entrance through its solidity. It was a _yashiki mon_, almost house, with two posterns. He must get a look within. A long high plaster wall ran on both sides into the distance. The moonlight, flooding the scene, showed him a breach opened by long neglect. Once within he felt convinced that he was on the scene of Rokuzo's experience. But the pine grove was anything but swept clean. Branches torn off by storm and wind, fallen trees, lay scattered everywhere. It was a very winding course which took him to the eaves of the building some distance off. Plainly the once occupant had been a person of position, perhaps a minor _daimyo[u]_. At the corner of the structure he found himself in the garden more particularly attached to the house. An exclamation of regret at sight of such desolation came to the lips of Saburo[u]zaémon. A master hand had laid out this beautiful piece of work; but trees and plants, no longer trained and trimmed by man's hand, had run wild. In the centre was a wide well curb rising some three feet from the ground. A single stone step allowed easier access for those drawing water. The well-sweep had rotted off and lay upon the ground. There was no bucket. Saburo[u]zaémon leaned over. From the still surface of the water came an indefinable putrescent odour, perhaps from the decaying plants, or refuse blown into the depths. He drew away, disgusted and convinced. Carefully he made the round of this pleasaunce. At the bottom of the garden near the confines of the well, was an artificial mound--a _tsukiyama_ or moon viewing hill. Before this was a little lake, for fish and lotus, of perhaps a couple of hundred feet in length by narrow width. In places he could jump across it; and elsewhere stepping stones offered passage. An Inari shrine in a plum grove offered no particular interest, beyond recent inclosure showing a neighbour's hand. There was swampy ground for the _shobu_ or iris and beds of peony plants. In front of the line of towering pines was a row of Yoshino cherry trees, all broken and neglected. The one time owner had loved flowers. Endo[u] turned to the house. The moon was pouring full on the closed _amado_ (rain doors), its cold silver globe lighting up the scene. "Solitary is the moon of winter glorious that of autumn." This was the tranquil moon of summer, pacifying yet saddening men's hearts, as does all moonlight. It was plain there was no entrance on this side of the house, unless unseemly force was used. This was unnecessary. Endo[u] noticed the lattice work of the bath-room. A few strokes of his dagger, and the frame was lifted out. Then it was easy to draw back the heavy wooden panels and allow the moonlight to flood these exposed chambers. Carefully he scanned his immediate surroundings. The paper of the _sho[u]ji_ was torn and eaten by the rats. In places the frayed _tatami_ (mats) bent under his feet, evidence of decay of the supporting floor. There was the mouldy damp smell common to places long closed to the freedom of the outer air. It sent a chill to the bone; which Endo[u] noted with surprise as he turned to the dark inner rooms. He must have some kind of light. Almost the first step into the semi-obscurity offered the means to hand. Stumbling over an object at his feet he picked up a staff. On examination it proved to be one of those _kongo_ canes, the support to feet and belly of the devout in their long pilgrimages, sign manual of the pious intent of the bearer. He had taken a candle from his pocket, and, with small respect to the "six worlds" of its rings, used the spiked end to improvise a torch. Then an unexpected voice caught his ear; a sad, wailing cry which chilled the heart. Then followed low, rapid, disorderly speech, the meaning of which rendered indistinct by distance could not be made out. Then came the unearthly startling shriek which rang through the whole mansion. Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon now had his torch fastened and blazing. Loosing his sword in the scabbard promptly he set forth into the darkness beyond. The candle cast a feeble light, making the darkness still more apparent. However, he could see the splendour of these once inhabited rooms. Screens worked in silk were dirty and frayed, but they were by master hands, and still showed the outlines of beautiful designing. The _rama-sho[u]ji_--the fret work between the rooms--was broken in places, yet it displayed the erratic course of Nature's handiwork, the most bizarre and effective of all. And always just before him went the shuffling drag of sandals--as of some one on the _ro[u]ka_, further on, at the room beyond. He sprang forward in haste, to fling back the closed screens, but still the object eluded him; always there, yet never seen. Thus it led him from room to room--reception rooms, sitting rooms, the women's apartments; all gorgeous, all unfurnished, not a single object of the value to tempt stray visitor or intentional thief. Even the kitchen was stripped bare of equipment. Not even the stones to support the furnace had been left. Thieves, or others, had long since accounted for all movables. Dumbfounded Saburo[u]zaémon stood at the foot of the stairway. Patter, patter the footsteps had led him to this point. The width was coated thickly with dust, swept by breezes from without, and from the disintegrating plaster (_kabé_) walls. The webs of spiders were woven across it; across the aperture. Yet--again came the wild sounds of riot above. This time the voices were distinct and close at hand. A woman was struggling, pleading under torture. "Alas! Alas! Deign to show pity. What has been the offence, thus to inflict punishment. Condescend the honoured pity. Ah! Pardon there is none. The child is consigned from the darkness of the womb to the darkness of death. Alas! Most harsh and unkind! How avoid the eternal grudge? Unending the hate of...." The voice, like to the sharp rending of silk, ended in the fearful shriek, chilling, heart rending, paralysing even the stout heart of Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon. "Ki-i-i!" There followed the ineffectual gurgling wailing cries of one struggling for breath. Drawn sword in hand Saburo[u]zaémon sprang up the stairway. Nothing! The _amado_ thrown back in haste light enough was given to show the emptiness of the room. Still the voice was heard. He passed beyond. As before--nothing; except the voice, now plain, as at his very side. Saburo[u]zaémon was now assured of some witchery. "This is Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon Takékiyo, _hatamoto_ of the land. Whoever, or whatever, be present, assume the proper shape. Fox or _tanuki_ (badger), strip off all disguise; stand to the test of Saburo[u]zaémon's blade." But the sad wailing voice made answer--"Unkind the words of Endo[u] Sama. This is no trick of fox or badger. Meeting an untimely end, the Spirit now wanders as an unworshipped demon; as one deprived of all honour in the grave. Brave has been the deed of Endo[u] Dono. Others have come; to depart in fright. He alone stays to challenge. For so much, thanks. Deign worship to my spirit, the security of rest from its wanderings." Saburo[u]zaémon in amazement looked around. The voice was clearly heard, and close to him; yet naught was to be seen. "Whoever you be, if wronged the sword of Saburo[u]zaémon is here to avenge the wrong. If in life, the perpetrator shall pay the penalty of the misdeed; yourself shall secure worship. Such is the office of a _bushi_--to aid the helpless. But cannot the shape be seen? Why this concealment from the eyes of Saburo[u]zaémon?" And the voice made answer--"Has Endo[u] Sama no eyes? Concentrate the thoughts. Here! Here!" Carefully and long Saburo[u]zaémon scrutinized every spot. Following the voice he sought to get nearer and nearer. Thus he was brought right before the _tokonoma_ (alcove). For a moment he shielded his eyes with his hands, then boldly removed the screen and faced the spectre in the plaster. At first faint, then more strongly outlined was the vision of a young girl. At one time the face perhaps had had great beauty. Now there was a weird expression of life amid the wasting and decay of death. The living eyes gleamed a deadly hate and distress which showed the torment of the spirit. Framed in the wild disordered masses of long black hair the face of the apparition sought to plunge its own unhappiness into the soul of its visitor. It was a strange vision; one to rouse the desire for the beautiful woman in man's heart, the wish to shield; together with repulsion toward the most evil passions of a malice which inspires fear. Long and steadily the man gazed; the woman answered the challenge. Then again Endo[u] was the _samurai_. "On with the tale. To the wronged Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon gives right and worship. A _samurai_, he has passed his word, not to be broken." He would have taken seat before the alcove. Said the voice--"Honoured Sir, the tale is long. On the _ro[u]ka_ without is a stool. The _tatami_ are dangerous with the wet. Later deign the honoured hearing." With surprise Endo[u] followed these household directions. At the room close by he found the object indicated. Here met his eye a sign unmistakeable. In the very centre of the _tatami_ was a huge red-brownish stain; by the verandah a second stain; at the further entrance a third of kindred character. Plainly the tale he would hear was of no peaceful exit from life. To the tragedy of death had been added violence. Thus fortified he returned, to take his seat before the vision in the alcove; steadily, with the harsh official manner of his caste, to meet the evil, strangely seductive, malice of its look and suggestion. Then it spoke: CHAPTER III NAKAKAWACHI SHU[U]ZEN Honoured sir, long past the source of this offence. It was the fourteenth year of Kwanei (1637). As now, the summer heat was stifling. To seek relief this Shimo had left the house, to stroll the neighbourhood close by. Thus idly engaged, listening to the song of the _suzumushi_, watching the fireflies flitting over the tops of the _suzuki_ grass, and bending to cull a few lilies to arrange in the _hanaike_, the presence of a stranger was felt. Ah! He was indeed a handsome man. Not too young to seem a callow youth to the eyes of Shimo's sixteen years; not too old to look on her merely as one of different sex. Indeed he was not yet thirty years, a soldier, carrying his two swords and his person most nobly. At very sight of him Shimo was carried into the gust of the love passion. Her cheeks were "dashed with the maple leaf, her heart swelled as the noon-tide." Her confusion did not escape the notice of one already surprised at sight of a girl so young strolling alone on the byways of the Bancho[u]. At once he spoke, with the confidence of one who has the right to question--"And who may this little beauty be, unaccompanied, with night so close at hand? The Bancho[u] is said to be no safe place with coming of darkness. If on some mission and belated, this Shu[u]zen will protect from harm. Or perhaps, though young in years, this is some new wife. Or is it a lover who is in question?" He spoke with kindness and authority, coming very close to get his answer, his eyes fastened on my person, to the greater increase of embarrassment. Vain was the attempt to throw some indignation into the reply. Lover there was none. Of but sixteen years, Shimo was in the hands of father and mother. To admit a lover would be unfilial.... The father? Kawasaki Cho[u]bei, attached to the palace stables. Humble was his rank in the minor office he held; but a one time _ashigaru_ (common soldier) his service had entitled him to the position and the suzerain's stipend of twenty _koku_. Hence he was of some consequence among his neighbours. At this information, given with some heat, the _samurai_ smiled and praised my father's service. He did more than praise; on this night, and other nights. Frequent were the meetings. Yet never did this Shimo pass the bounds of propriety. Carried away by the gust of passion, incited by the lover's presence and solicitation, yet Shimo's filial duty kept her person pure. A night came when he failed at the rendezvous. So with the next, and following nights. He had laughed at parting, and said that where was the will, there a means would be found. Plainly the will was lacking, and he was too proud and too highly placed even to endure the presence of Shimo at his side. With these thoughts, and overcome by love and vexation, I sickened. Great was the anxiety of the parents. Doctors were called in; the priest's charms were sought. They were of no avail. It was the advice of the wise old Saito[u] Sensei to leave me to myself and time. "It is her years," said he. "Time will effect the cure; unless she herself sooner indicates the means." Laughing he departed, as one convinced that the cure was a simple one. Long had the determination been held to tell all to the mother; always put off at sight of the kindly anxious face. With such a lover she would have felt alarmed and helpless. Time brought the cure. The summer heats were nearly past; the eighth month (September) close at hand. One day came a _chu[u]gen_ to the house, bearing a message. At once all was in confusion. Nakakawachi Dono was a _fudai daimyo[u]_ of twelve thousand _koku_ income. He was a new-comer in the district, and known to be held in high favour at the palace. A goodly portion of the site of the former Yoshida Goten in Bancho[u] Ko[u]jimachi had recently been assigned to him. With the removal of the Takata no Kata[6] to quarters closer to the castle the greater portion of the palace had been removed to build the prior's hall of the Iinuma Kugyo[u]ji. The villa part (_besso[u]_) of the structure had been left intact, and with much of the park and garden had been secured by favour to Nakakawachi Sama. For such a great lord in his passage to condescend to rest at the humble house of a mere _go-kenin_ caused much disturbance. The limited household staff was put energetically to work at cleaning and making all preparations for the honoured visit. Treading with cat's paw my parents went from room to room, to see that all was befitting. The articles of greatest value were set forth for his lordship's view. An instinct set dancing my barely restored nerves. Why did this great lord, so near home in his progress--his fief was in Ko[u]shu[u]--deign thus to rest? What command would he urge? His name was Nakakawachi Shu[u]zen. The _samurai_ lover of the Bancho[u] spoke of himself as Shu[u]zen. Thus was the watching and waiting, in a flutter of trepidation and newly aroused passion. Then he came. My parents prostrated themselves on the ground in his presence. "With your permission--" Haughty he swept on, to be ushered to the inner rooms. Even the officer in charge remained at a distance. Prostrate at the sill my father gave thanks for the honour of this unexpected presence, for his lordship's deigning to halt the palanquin. On command Shimo served the tea, not daring to raise face from the _tatami_ under the satisfied scrutiny of this honoured guest, exercising all her self control, which yet did not prevent a trembling of the fingers in presenting the salver with the cup. In due course, on withdrawal of the service, he noted the one who served, and indicated his wishes. He was a new-comer in the district. He would have his service therefrom, at the hands of those close by. No girl was better spoken of than the daughter of Cho[u]bei San. He would ask that Shimo be sent to the _yashiki_ to attend as _koshimoto_ (maid in waiting) to her ladyship. His short stay in this house he regarded as most fortunate. He spoke through his chamberlain, now present; but followed the officer's words with close attention. My father was overwhelmed by the honour. Profuse and earnest were his astonished thanks. Shimo was the only child of people now entering into the coldness of age. This was of small moment. But there had been no opportunity to give her the training required for such service. Beyond an awkward touch on _samisen_, mainly due to her own practice, she was a moor girl, a very rustic. She could keep house--yes; like a wardsman's daughter. Polite accomplishments she lacked. Deign in this instance his lordship's honoured forbearance. The girl was too young and awkward for such service. Polite was the withdrawal; without knowledge of his lordship's disposition and previous acquaintance. Shu[u]zen Dono was not so easily balked. All the objections were brushed aside. Youth was everything in my favour. His eyes twinkled with inward amusement as he spoke. All the easier came the practice which everyone must go through. If Shimo was incurably awkward she would not be dismembered, but dismissed. Great would be the forbearance. That she had everything to learn pleased him all the more. She would be the more readily moulded to his service. At the _yashiki_ youth was an object, and not the experience of long time service which had left the adept far too experienced. Such women had their lord's service little at heart. Shimo had youth and beauty. These were a girl's treasures and accomplishments. He had never seen one better fitted for entrance on such service. All this the chamberlain conveyed with an authority which put aside opposition. The lord's will was spoken. First the mother gave thanks for the honour condescended to one so insignificant. She claimed the promised forbearance of his lordship to any faults. My father followed her example, and gave his thanks. Such entertainment as the humble house afforded was now produced. After partaking his lordship departed in state. The neighbours had been agape at the great lord's train stationed at the gate. For them and for the curious and discreet questioning, the congratulations at such promotion in the world, this Shimo cared little. His lordship's will had prevailed. Henceforth Shimo would live close to his side. I had fled to the little working room, as one taking refuge amid the constant household sewing. But needle could not be seen through the veil of tears. "What joy! What joy!" Thoughtless the words were spoken out loud. The mother's hand was laid on my shoulder. The look was kind, yet with some reproach at this unfilial rejoicing. Apology was made. To her doubts eager was the answer. "How else succeed in life? Service at the _yashiki_, its life always under eye, its etiquette, even its dangers--this experience alone can teach how to meet its requirements; and so close at hand, near to home and parents. Others had succeeded in such promotion. Why not Shimo, thus offered the chance to rise from the status of a wardsman's daughter, or not much more, to become an attendant in a lord's _yashiki_?" Sadly my mother smiled. Grave would be her anxieties concerning one so inexperienced. "The child thinks but of self and pleasure. The mother thinks but of the child, and sees the dangers." This in lower tones--"If Shimo becomes the favourite of her lord, how is such inexperience to meet the evil passions roused in those around her? Always place her ladyship first. Resist the solicitation of Shu[u]zen Dono; unless the _okusama_ chooses to favour what would be but a transient passion. Keep this well in mind.... And now--to the preparation of what is needed." She had detected the motive of his lordship's summons, thought him captivated by a pretty face and figure come across by accident. Thus she understood the inner feeling of this Shimo. With the words of advice she turned to the subject of my needs. Willingly this was left to her skilled hands; and the advice received as little attention. To speak of resistance to his lordship, to one who hungered for his presence, was but to set the brain devising all the means to secure his favour. Thus outwardly busied with needle and garments, the self was existing as in a dream. The preparations in any event could not be elaborate. Shu[u]zen Dono was urgent. A lucky day was chosen, and with my modest equipment I entered on the service of the _yashiki_ of Nakakawachi Sama. Introduction to the immediate presence of her ladyship, O'Hagi was anything but pleasing. Seated with her were two maids, O'Tsugi and O'Han. The first named was a buxom masculine woman of nearly thirty years. The girl O'Han was a recent promotion from the scullery; and, as was learned later, she owed the favour to the goodwill of the chamberlain (_yo[u]nin_) Nishioka Shintaro[u], a cold, smooth spoken, evil eyed man, mainly notable for the uncompromising readiness with which he carried out the wishes of her ladyship. Over them all, of greatest influence with O'Hagi Dono, was an old woman, O'Saku. She had accompanied her ladyship from the original House, was utterly unscrupulous in her service, and her sharp voice, like that of a file scratching glass, sent shivers down the spine as I prostrated myself before the group. Cold was the reception. "A likely wench! Plainly his lordship's choice, without reference to your ladyship. But time will show.... Meanwhile no service as yet is assigned. With this girl his lordship's orders are first to be heard. O'Han, show the new comer to the quarters of the _koshimoto_, that she stand in no necessity or likelihood of forgetting where they are. For to-day there is remission of service." Thus spoke the harsh voice of O'Saku, passing over my head. The cold, knife like glances of all were like steel plunged into my body. With obeisance I withdrew, to follow O'Han, who gave no greater welcome and was no kinder than the rest. Almost at once she left me, and several days were passed in solitude awaiting a summons. This came one evening. With evil dubious smile O'Han presented herself. "His lordship summons O'Shimo Dono to his service this night. You are to attend. Deign not to forget the good services of this Han." She laughed, with a bitter suggestiveness. What would anyone have done, thus treated at start as evil doer, as intruder? With joy his lordship's command was heard. The whole person of Shimo showed a well restrained love and joy. He was pleased at the effect wrought on me by his presence. Small the experience, beyond what love's attention could afford. The night's banquet was plainly not the dullest of its kind. At its close O'Shimo had command to accompany him. With morning I was a woman. In the period which followed every night came the summons to attend my lord. Foolish and inexperienced, in this whirlwind of passion Shimo was but a leaf driven by the storm. The assignment to duty in the _yashiki_ never came. There was the daily report for duty at her ladyship's rising, the cold and curt reception, the quick dismissal. O'Hagi Dono was past her thirtieth year. Of the great Doi House, she brought to her husband a dower of influence and prestige. Older than her husband the love passion had never taken root. An ugly woman, there was small chance for other good qualities to secure a fictitious esteem with a man so easily captivated by beauty as Shu[u]zen Sama. Furthermore her ladyship did not possess such amiable traits. She was a proud, hard, jealous woman; with the natural graft of a bad temper. Soon abandoned to a lonely bed she was no longer treated as a wife. Though the marriage had endured some five years there was no child, and little prospect of one. On occasions of ceremony the _okugata_ presided at his lordship's wine feasts, attended by her band of furies. With the exception of O'Han, who possessed the freshness of youth, none of them had any pretence to good looks. Outwardly all due respect was paid to his lordship, but the private apartments (_oku_) were in league against him. For weeks the contact was through the _yo[u]nin_, Nishioka Shintaro[u], who acted as messenger of his lord's commands, and conveyed to his lordship any intimation of the wishes of her ladyship. Hence Shu[u]zen Sama knew and cared little as to what passed in the inner apartments of his wife. She knew everything which passed in those of his lordship. This tacit divorce appeared welcome to both. The object of his lordship's passion, in a household in which one side or the other of the existing feud must be taken, the position of this Shimo was quickly determined. Not by her, for short experience of her ladyship inspired a terror which would even have counselled cooler treatment from his lordship in one more experienced. The other girls were all honey, to disguise the bitterness of gall. There was not one of them who would not gladly have obeyed her lord's call to Shimo's place. Hence to partisanship was added jealousy. At the daily tasks there was but one topic of conversation--O'Shimo's favour with her lord. The charms she used were evident enough, for Nature had been lavish with the kind to meet his lordship's wishes. How was it their own parents had spawned such incapacity? "Deign, O'Shimo Dono, to teach the art so sadly lacking. How bring to prominence such meagre gifts of proportion as one does possess? In turn shall be taught the art of the _hanaike_--the arrangement of flowers, of the _koto_ and the _biwa_ in accompaniment of old songs of heroes and their ladies, the ceremonial grace so necessary in attendance, the conduct of a lady. From a wardsman's daughter little is expected, beyond good looks. Alas! O'Shimo Dono is the _yamabuki_, the yellow rose, beautiful in its out of season bloom (April), but only too likely to be nipped by the frost. Deign to enlighten, O'Shimo Dono. Beauty soon wanes, and pregnancy kills good looks as completely as the chill wind does the flowers." Then they all broke into mad laughter; and whispered to each other. Their suspicions were correct. The constant companionship of his lordship had the natural effect. When told great was his pleasure. If a boy, the child should be acknowledged as heir of the House. If a girl, it should be the solace of his years. So great was his joy and pride that he spoke to the retainers as if it was the _okugata_ herself who was at issue. Thus the news must have reached her ladyship's ears with the first telling, for Nishioka usually was present at his lord's repast. He was the black cloud hanging over all. A tall, gaunt, suave, determined man of nearly forty years, the smile he cast upon this Shimo chilled her. Always courteous in his lordship's presence, elsewhere his courtesy conveyed a threat and insult which made me as the bird before the snake. I feared the man; and feared him all the more when one day, with small disguise of malice, he told me that his lordship had departed in all haste for the fief in Ko[u]shu[u], not to return for some weeks. Considering the state of affairs, this should inconvenience me but little. This open reference to the pregnancy was a first alarm. It showed how well known it was to the whole household. Indeed concealment now was impossible. The fifth month had been entered upon; the supporting band had become a necessity. But the climax was at hand. That very day--toward noon--the summons came through the girl O'Han. With sinking heart I took my way to her ladyship's sitting room. What was going to take place. Passing the _chu[u]gen_ Jisuké on the _ro[u]ka_ he called to someone in the garden--"His lordship's absence gives the chance to clean out the house." Covertly glancing below--there was no one. Was it in malice, or as warning? Probably the latter. Jisuké always had been active in little services; often the chosen messenger of my lord. His look in passing conveyed no insolence; rather kind intention. It took away the exhibition of surprise at my reception. Her ladyship was seated at the upper end of the room. The maids O'Tsugi and O'Han stood close by. Nishioka Shintaro[u] was just behind her ladyship. The old hag O'Saku was seated at the front. She motioned me to make salutation. The _okugata_ spoke harshly, with contempt and dislike of the one thus brought before her at the white sand of judicial process. "The affair at issue is a simple one. Shimo is to answer the questions--without tergiversation or lying. To Saku is left the matter of the examination." The old woman bowed with respect and smiling gratitude at the pleasing task. The smile conveyed to her ladyship promise of satisfaction, even amusement, in the torture of a forced confession from this child who would play the woman. Turning to me her face, with cheeks fallen in, long sharp nose, hard bright glittering eyes of a bird of prey, the snowy hair piled high around the temples, it was that of one keenly searching out the tenderest spot into which to drive the knife. Her first words were all flattery. "Much has been heard, and little seen, of O'Shimo Dono since her entrance into the _yashiki_. What has been heard is all to her advantage. Her devotion to the service of his lordship has been carried to the utmost--even, some say, to extremes. Of that there can be no criticism. His lordship's wishes are paramount. The action of O'Shimo Dono contains nothing but merit. It is for the malice of others to say that O'Shimo has sought and stolen the fruit belonging to her ladyship; that her cat's eyes have been quick to fasten upon the place of the mistress of the house; that it is she who would furnish forth an heir to his lordship. Such is not to be believed. But the truth is to be told. An heir to his lordship is a matter for her ladyship. No child has fallen to her lot. If O'Shimo Dono be the first to give birth to a child in the _yashiki_, it must be between the knees of her ladyship. Deign then to make full confession.... Ah! There is no need to beg for mercy and reprieve from the examination. Saku is old. Her ladyship is a married woman. Both possess experience. On refusal personal examination is to be made. O'Tsugi, O'Han, are to aid." The two women had come forward and passed behind me. Seized and thrown down the clenched fist of O'Tsugi was roughly pressed into my abdomen. In fright and pain, in dread for the unborn child, I cried out. Then the violent old woman dragged out the confession of all that had passed with his lordship. Minute and shameful the details to be told in the presence of a man. But Shimo was an animal with powers of speech, and must tell all. With the confession the old woman's smoothness departed. "Vile slut! A townsman's brat, sprung from the stable dung, you would play the adulteress, take her ladyship's place, and supplant her with an heir got by some stranger's seed.... She is gone to the sixth month? High time for interference. She shall be kept here, until the separation of persons takes place. No wonder his lordship abandoned the shameless hussy--for some fresh country wench in Ko[u]shu[u]. For such loose jades to please the taste of the Tono Sama causes surprise. But off with her, to the room for confinement. There she is to lie, until her affair is settled." At a sign O'Tsugi and O'Han seized hold of me. Clothes torn and in disorder, the person vilely exposed, roughly I was dragged over to this barred and retired apartment. Always I made effort to preserve my body and its fruit from their harsh violence. O'Tsugi roared with laughter at the feeble resistance. The woman was strong as a horse. To O'Han--"Look at her big belly. Ah! Her ladyship is none too wise. Let the matter but be left to Tsugi, and the midwife soon would be needed." She raised a massive leg with suggestive gesture. In some fright O'Han stopped her, on plea of no such orders. The girl was young, of full figure and not without attraction. Perhaps she harboured hopes, and would not in a rival's person set precedent for her own. O'Tsugi spun me around, as a child would a top with the cord. Then suddenly she released me. With a crash my body fell against the wall. Sick and faint I tried to rise, and failed. They watched me for a time as I grovelled and retched in sickness. Then the bar fell on the outer passage and my imprisonment. The day light waned. The sound of the birds going to roost came to the ears. It was now spring, the gladsome period of the year. The cooing and chirping brought no charm to the prisoner's ear. These birds were as the birds of Shidéyama (in Hell). Mournful the dirge they sang. Filled with foreboding, with dread for self and the passing from the darkness of the womb to the darkness of death for the unborn child, faintness of heart was made worse by the faintness of hunger. I sank into a kind of slumber, more racking than the working hours. Then the harsh cries of the crows aroused me. Daylight was again streaming through the window bars. At a corner of the sill was a jar. The water in it was stale and foul smelling. None other was to hand. A _mimitarai_ (hand basin) was found in the closet. Thus was the nauseating ablution performed. Near mid-day, when ready to cry out with hunger, for sake of child not self, the door opened. It was O'Han who brought me food. One strip of _takuan_, the bitter pickled radish; for drink, ice cold water. Such was the meal. At night some pickled greens replaced the radish. On my knees I plead with O'Han, besought her mercy for the unborn child. She laughed at my misery. "Good living on forbidden fruits has made O'Shimo Dono fat. Her big belly is perchance to be reduced by diet. Such are the orders of the _okugata_. Han can do nothing; and would do nothing if she could. What a fool! Cannot one please his lordship, all night and every night, without promise of an heir to the House? Condescend the vacancy and leave such matter to this Han...." Perhaps she felt that she had said too much. Abruptly she turned and left the room. I was not long alone. At least it seemed not so, for the light slumbers were disturbed by the pangs of hunger. Then came a hand fingering the outside bar. It was done stealthily. In aid or menace? A deadly fear came over me. With wild staring eyes, loosened hair framing an anguished and distorted figure I faced the object without, seeking its entrance. The terror was not relieved by the appearance of the chamberlain, Nishioka Shintaro[u]. His face was set and drawn, as of a man who has a problem to work out, as of one who would carry out the purpose with certainty and expedition. He closed the door, set the lamp carefully on the floor in a distant corner. Not a word was spoken. Eyes bright with terror I watched his movements. He carried something in one hand. Shaken loose it was allowed to trail behind him. His preparations made he came toward me with decision. Retreating before his advance the wall was reached. By this time he was on me. Then I saw what it was he held; a slender rope, its dreadful meaning plain. I screamed in terror. Roughly he silenced me, one hand on open mouth. In stifled tones I plead for mercy. Then failing sign of respite, by desperate effort my struggles called for all his strength. My screams resounded loud in the room. "Aré! Aré! Murder! Deep the grudge, to seven lives! Nishioka San! The grudge of one dying against Nishioka! Against man and woman who would cut off the life of Shimo and her child. Ah! Her ladyship! The grudge!" The cord had tightened round my throat. The ends were in the strong hands of Nishioka Shintaro[u]. I mocked and stuck out my tongue at him. I know I did so, as the breath came with greater and greater difficulty. His face, that of a demon, grew to huge proportions, bright scarlet. Now heart and lungs were bursting with fullness. Dreadful the agony, dreadful the grudge for this ill deed. Thus I died. Then followed the ruin of the House of Nakakawachi Shu[u]zen. CHAPTER IV THE O'KAGÉ SAMA On the following night all were gathered in the apartments of her ladyship. O'Tsugi was engaged in putting back the _koto_ (harp) into its cover. O'Hagi Dono touched the instrument with no mean skill, and on this night had deigned to please herself and those who heard her. O'Han was engaged in heating the _saké_ bottles. Rarely did her ladyship retire without this indulgence. The old woman, O'Saku, aimlessly moved about the room. She seemed to be awaiting some news. A sound of steps in the corridor, and with pleased countenance she made sign to her ladyship. A moment later and Nishioka Shintaro[u] entered the room. There was not a trace of difference from the ordinary in his composed harsh reverential manner to her ladyship. The latter gave a look at O'Saku. The old women asked the momentous question. "The matter in hand--has all gone well? The wench no longer troubles the peace and future of the _okugata_?"--"Everything to perfection: the _chu[u]gen_ and servants were given tasks to take them far removed. There was barely a struggle. By the hands of this Shintaro[u] the affair was soon carried to completion." With complacence he displayed two lean strong hands, regarded with fondness and admiration by her ladyship. They could bestow a more tender embrace than that suffered by the unfortunate _koshimoto_. "And later; the traces of the deed, these are to be removed?"--"There are none. The time was waited until the body grew cold. It was safe to do so. The weather is yet raw, the room one seldom entered, and the bar key in the hands of Shintaro[u]. But just now the task of dismemberment and disposal has been completed. On pretext of repairs to the _ashigaru_ quarters much plaster was obtained. With this the severed fragments of the hussy and her foetus were mingled, and thus concealed in the wall of the _tokonoma_. The whole new surfaced no trace of the deed appears; nor is there fear of stench from the corpse. Her ladyship can be assured that all is well. O'Shimo no longer will give trouble with her pretensions to his lordship's fondness. In a few days Shintaro[u] will notify the father that the girl has run off with some lover. A worthless jade, thus dismissed the _yashiki_, he will be too ashamed to make inquiry here; and his searches elsewhere are not likely to bear fruit.... How strange!" He brushed away a firefly which had flown into his face. With surprise those present watched the bug flitting here and there in the darkness of the corners and the open corridor. It was barely the middle of the third month (April), and no season for the appearance of those insects of the hottest period of the year. Failing to catch it, O'Tsugi drove it into the outer darkness. Then closed the screens. More lights were brought. Her ladyship would take wine, and talk of nothing but the joy and relief. "For life this deed shall not be forgotten. Always in the ready courage and resource of Nishioka has support been found; many awkward corners turned. If he finds favour with his lord, still greater the regard of this Hagi. A cup--Shintaro[u]!" Herself she offered it, leaning fondly toward him. Her hand trembled in her passion as he took it, with purposed glance and pressure. Always formal in outward seeming, the intimate relations of the pair for past months were more than understood by these immediate attendants and abettors. Nishioka Shintaro[u] long had been the honoured substitute of his lord--the shadow, the O'Kagé Sama, of Nakakawachi Dono. In this case the shadow was the substance. This ugly virile woman was boiling over with passion. In the old O'Saku she had a bawd to her service. She had entered this House as friend or enemy, according as the event would turn out. Neglected by Shu[u]zen, unable to rule him by will or personal attraction, she sought to do so by substitution, to the satisfaction of both. Hence she made Nishioka Shintaro[u] her lover. He was nephew of O'Saku and foster brother of O'Hagi. Once introduced into the house he easily made his way into the confidence of Shu[u]zen Dono, by taking all cares off his shoulders, beyond those of ceremonial attendance and pleasure. The minutest details of everything were looked to by Nishioka. This pleased Shu[u]zen, who placed confidence in the readiness and proved resourcefulness of the man. Nishioka was an infallible guide in all minutiae of the palace service and intrigue; his knowledge gained by a long experience in attendance on the great Doi House. Here he had risen from _chu[u]gen_ to _kyu[u]nin_ (house officer). When he came to the _yashiki_ of Shu[u]zen he soon replaced the _karo[u]_ (minister) of the fief in his lord's intimacy, and the latter official found honourable banishment in continued occupation and residence at the fief in Ko[u]shu[u], where Shu[u]zen played the rôle of a castle lord (_jo[u]shu[u]_), a _fudai daimyo[u]_, a subordinate and spy on his greater neighbours. The new comer was source of congratulation to her ladyship. As O'Saku--and perhaps O'Hagi Dono intended, revenge was sought on Shu[u]zen by promptly throwing the mistress into the arms of Nishioka. Behind the impenetrable shield of the inner apartments--a place that Shu[u]zen only sought to avoid--they could live as husband and wife. Other arrangement now was met by the cold reception meted out to her lord by the lady of the House. Any compunction Shu[u]zen might feel as to what he thought to be the enforced sterility of O'Hagi thus was salved. Merry almost to madness was the progress of the wine feast. Her ladyship went beyond the bonds even of a decent veil of sobriety. Her loving attitude to Nishioka found more open expression than usual in the presence of the others. Her abandonment was undisguised. All rejoiced with her; congratulated the strong man on his ready energy. Only the girl O'Han showed some lack of spirit, which she attributed to headache. In kindness her ladyship forbade further concern with the service of the wine, with the aggravation of its fumes; but she had too little consideration for those about her to relieve the suffering girl from attendance. Then the hour came to retire. According to the decent formula in practice, Nishioka, notified of the fact, rose to take his leave--to the next chamber. Here the O'Kagé Sama did his disrobing. The girl O'Tsugi was the first to leave her ladyship, on some mission. She came behind Shintaro[u], to administer a rousing slap between the shoulders which brought him almost to his knees. Grumbling and gasping he turned to meet her admiring looks. "A fine figure of a man! And one to act as well as pose. For us his lordship has but pretty words. O'Shimo alone profited otherwise. But the O'Kagé Sama of his lordship is of another kind. Deign to favour this Tsugi from time to time." Shintaro[u] volunteered a grimace which could pass for a consenting smile. His shoulders burned under the heat of the lady's passion. In search for a reply the screens again parted, and O'Saku made her appearance. O'Tsugi at once took to flight, somewhat in derision. The old woman followed her with eyes of suspicion. Then she marched straight up to Nishioka--"An impudent jade! Shintaro[u] is to place no confidence in her or her words. She brings nothing but shame, and perhaps worse. There is not a serving man in the _yashiki_ who does not know her. And remember this well. It is this Saku who holds the string of her ladyship's favour. O'Hagi Dono is not so far enamoured as not to accept a substitute at Saku's hands.... But he is a fine figure of a man! Too fine to be spoiled by his lordship's hand." To avoid the threatening lascivious gleam in the eyes of this withered branch Nishioka made pretence of trouble with a knot in his girdle. The whispered invitation grazed a negligent ear, to be interrupted by the sound of her ladyship's voice. O'Saku was in no haste to leave or to say more. O'Han was the last to appear. There were anger and tears in her eyes as the girl stopped a few feet from him. She spoke half turned away, as ready to take flight at expected interruption. "Nishioka Dono keeps faith with her ladyship! Does he keep faith with Han? Earnest was the promise that at all events Han should share his favour with O'Hagi Dono. Nearly a month has passed since he has deigned a visit. Surely her ladyship is not so exacting. Give fair answer. Is will or power lacking?" She waited the reply, eyes cast down on the _tatami_, for she at least had some remains of modesty. Thus the almost despairing gesture of Shintaro[u] escaped her. He spoke in low voice, with emphasis, to this fairest of his bevy of fair ones--"As for the _okugata_, O'Han knows her almost as well as this Shintaro[u]. What would be the fate of both if their treachery were suspected? Deign to be patient. The fountain of plenty has not run dry. Shintaro[u] would go but so far. In this horde of women he must look to himself. The dependence now is on her ladyship and O'Saku Dono. Shu[u]zen Sama is cajoled by having thought for nothing. The _karo[u]_ now is very old. This Shintaro[u] surely will take his place. A break then with her ladyship finds punishment in exile to Ko[u]shu[u]. Then comes the time for O'Han openly to join Shintaro[u], for the happy bond of two lives." The girl's lips barely moved. Both were startled at peremptory call from the neighbouring room. She spoke rapidly--"'Tis small matter, even with her ladyship. But from time to time a visit to this Han? Condescend it."--"Agreed!" was the impatient answer. "But with O'Hagi Dono, O'Tsugi, O'Han.... O'Saku, the occasions must be limited." He suddenly seized her in his arms and silenced her protest in an embrace. Then with hasty steps he passed to her ladyship's bed-chamber, leaving O'Han with wide staring eyes which shifted from the room of the lovers to the door through which she had witnessed the old woman's departure. Such was the vileness of the life in which was engaged Nishioka Shintaro[u]. A week had barely elapsed. There was occasion to make purchases for the _yashiki_. The _chu[u]gen_ Jisuké remained respectfully prostrate before the officer. Nishioka again ran over the list required. "These are to be got at the Owariya in Mikawacho[u]. The month's settlement is yet far off. The order stands sufficient. Now off with you." The man did not budge. Rising to a sitting posture he looked fixedly in the face of Nishioka. "What now?" grumbled the _yo[u]nin_. Answered the _chu[u]gen_ with respect--"Something of a tip will be well."--"A tip!" said Nishioka in astonishment. "For what is the month's wage paid to a _chu[u]gen_? Is he to be given drink money for carrying out his duties? Take the _furoshiki_; and now out with it and yourself." "'Out with it'; just so." Such the answer; but the fellow did not budge. The steady insolence of his attitude made Nishioka straighten up as by a shock. He was too surprised to speak. The _chu[u]gen_ spoke for him. "Yes--out with it. Ah! It is quite private with Shintaro[u]. Jisuké can speak at ease. Drink money is just the thing for Jisuké. Jisuké Dono is fond of drink. The O'Kagé Sama will supply the coin, three _ryo[u]_, in return for the silence of Jisuké." At the suggestive nickname, known only to the few in the secrets of the _oku_ Nishioka fairly gasped. Jisuké did not give time for answer. He drove the matter home. "'Heaven knows, Earth knows, Man knows.' So does this Jisuké, of the doings of Shintaro[u] with the Okusama. Naruhodo! No strange sight. When the honoured Sun (Tento[u] Sama) disappears toward Ko[u]shu[u], the honoured Moon (Tsuki Sama) appears in the ascendant in Musashi. The matter is a most important one, not to be brought to an end by a gesture. Bring the Okusama on the head and shoulders of Jisuké; and Jisuké tells all to his lordship. The proof is easy, and this Jisuké the fitting messenger between these lovers.... Oh! Don't lay hand to sword. Jisuké is active, and the way of retreat is open. The honoured Jisuké is not one to perish by the hand of the low fellow (_yaro[u]_) Shintaro[u]. In plain terms, the rascal is male concubine of her ladyship; who knows little of the even balance with which her paramour shares his favours with her women. Surely Shintaro[u] was born under the sign of the goat. But that is not all. The very walls can talk. At least that in which the unhappy O'Shimo, seven months gone with child, stands walled in. Naruhodo! Such punishment is inflicted on bugs, and worms, and creeping things; not on human beings. How does Jisuké know? Go question the plaster, you coward; or learn that Jisuké is, and has been, everywhere present at council and at deeds. But a word to Cho[u]bei Dono, and Nishioka crouches at the white sand for confession." At first astonishment and incredulity, then wrath, now dismay filled the heart of Nishioka Shintaro[u]. The fellow's insolence, the honorifics bestowed on Jisuké, the vile terms heaped on himself, showed the secure ground on which Jisuké stood in his full knowledge of events. For whom was he spy? He must find out. Jisuké, however, volunteered the information. "Spy? Jisuké Dono is spy for no one's interest but that of Jisuké Sama. He would have warned O'Shimo Dono, but repented in time to have all more completely in his hands. She passed on to her death, carried out under the eyes of Jisuké, and at the hands--Yes, the hands of the low fellow Shintaro[u]. Ah! Did beautiful eyebrows inspire this deed? Was it the love for O'Hagi now, or love for O'Han hereafter? As rival to his lordship the rascal Shintaro[u] had no chance with O'Shimo Dono. The clothes prop is the most useful instrument of the house. It brings things long unseen to light and sight. Jisuké Dono will be the clothes prop for this completed wickedness--unless his silence be well bought. Come! Fifty _ryo[u]_: not down: but ten suffices for the occasion.... Come and demand it of the Okusama? No indeed! Before her ladyship the prescribed etiquette demands obeisance, and off is whipped the head of Jisuké. It is money and--a sword cut. On the contrary, off with Shintaro[u] to beg the needed sum. The tongue of Jisuké Sama is silenced only by the coin which secures his absence." Nishioka could not help himself. "Jisuké is right. It is a matter of importance. But her ladyship alone can supply the sum. Remain here, where safety has been so well secured." Then he betook himself to the inner apartments. At his tale O'Hagi was aghast. She touched the root of the matter at once. "The man must have the money demanded. And afterward...." Nishioka smiled grimly at the kindred thought. "Into the _oku_ he is not to be inveigled. Leave the matter to this Shintaro[u]. After all be is but a _chu[u]gen_, plainly a fellow with two eyes; but despite his long experience he must leave the _yashiki_ or conform to the etiquette of the service. He will not leave a place where lies his future mine of gold, no matter what his insolence in private. All will be well. His ignorance and position offer chance to play upon. Shintaro[u] surely will find a way to kill him." With this solace and the coin he took his way back to the waiting Jisuké. "I say now! His lordship's shadow indeed! This rascal Shintaro[u] has but to shake the tree and the golden fruit falls into his hands. The kind of friend to possess! Ask; and one receives. Sheet metal too! A very thief, he is more generous than the Tono Sama! So far thanks. And now--_sayonara_! Jisuké Dono is off to the pleasant land--the Amatsuki of Fushimicho[u], the land of reed plains (Yoshiwara). The knave Jisuké, values higher than the knave (_yaro[u]_) Shintaro[u]. The Honoured Sir pays for the favours of his queen; his queen pays the _yaro[u]_ Shintaro[u]." With this parting shot Jisuké was up and out into the open. With some surprise he halted for a moment. Nishioka had received the sally in good part. He was laughing, half in amusement, half in vexation. Thought Jisuké--"Truly this rascal of a _yo[u]nin_ matches even the honoured Jisuké. Both spring from the farm, and the jest touches him, and not his rank. Between the two, lord and lady are like to pay dear." Nishioka returned slowly to the inner apartments, to make report as to this rather doubtful progress. For several days nothing was seen of Jisuké. For a time, as one satisfied, he resumed his duties in the old respectful rôle. Only a sly veiled jest would show the wolf lying in wait. Then came further demands, promptly responded to by Nishioka. He began to be curious as to the adventures of Jisuké. He made the _chu[u]gen_ talk; whose experiences were painted in glowing colours. With a sigh Nishioka handed over the cash demanded, granted the leave of absence. Grumbled Jisuké--"'Tis like digging the metal from the ground. Few are the miners of another's hoard. Why grudge this Jisuké what costs Shintaro[u] nothing!" Nishioka grasped at the opening. "What costs nothing, carries no grudge. But Jisuké has the cash at the cost of this Shintaro[u], only obtained in the company of an ugly old woman. With this coin it is Jisuké who commands the selected beauty of Nippon. Come! There has been enough of this. To-night Shintaro[u] takes Jisuké as guide. He too will take his pleasure amid the beauties of the Yoshiwara." He spoke expansively, with far off smile and look, as if the beauties were ranged before his vision. Jisuké stood with mouth wide open. "What! Not even the whole private apartments of a _daimyo[u]_ satisfies this lecher? Ah! The rascal would plant horns on the Okusama. Husband and wife alike adorned! How now: is not her ladyship already something of a demon? Nishioka Dono will be impaled on one or the other." With mock respect he gave advice and bowed before his officer. His interest in this rebellion was plain. Nishioka was seen to hesitate. He looked doubtfully at Jisuké, as if seeking counsel in this questionable matter. To Jisuké the matter was a jest; thus to involve all three victims in a common treachery to one another. The temptation was great, and he was a match for any underhand design on the part of Nishioka. No safer place for him than Yoshiwara, in which his enemy might be still more involved. _Samurai_ were particularly marked in the place. Meanwhile the chamberlain would be his butt for the evening. Jisuké's hints as to his source of revenue were broad enough to the companions of his evening pleasures. They would be delighted at a sight of this generous official. Hence he urged objections to his company, and himself found answers. Said Nishioka--"It is agreed. To-night all is propitious. The old girl has taken cold. She intends a sweating. Such the notice to this Shintaro[u]. It is his time to be fickle. He accompanies Jisuké." His mind was made up, with some evident tear and reluctance. Jisuké aided him in his preparations. Wearing _zukin_ (hood) he passed out the gate with Jisuké. The latter handed in two _chu[u]gen_ tickets to the _momban_, and none knew that the honoured _yo[u]nin_ had left the _yashiki_. In merry company they descended the Gomizaka. Shintaro[u] was as a boy just out of school, so merry was he. He lagged behind, then went ahead. At the top of the Kudanzaka he halted. "On with you, Jisuké. Shintaro[u] stops here a moment." He passed to the side of the road. Jisuké in turn halted. He was standing in the moonlight. Said he, with a touch of his usual insolent jesting--"How explain to the ladies the presence of the honoured chamberlain? Shintaro[u] _yaro[u]_ wears two swords. Jisuké Dono is but a _chu[u]gen_. Odd company! Notable will be the compliment."--"No explanation is required." Terrible the voice from the shadow beside him. "Ei!" Quick as a flash Jisuké made a spring forward, not too soon to prevent arm and back being ripped open by the keen weapon.--"Ah! The low fellow Shintaro[u] is not the one to kill the honoured Jisuké. He has already said it.... The beast! He has cut me. The devil lies between Jisuké and the lights of the O[u]mon. With Cho[u]bei San is found safety and vengeance." With all speed he fled up the Ushinakizaka to seek safety in the darkness of its wood. Nishioka pursued with determination. The rip of cloth and flesh showed him that he had reached his man. Loss of blood would bring him down. Jisuké aimed for the middle of the grove, for the Hachiman shrine, now the site of the Sho[u]konsha. Under the dark shadow of the trees he hoped to escape the pursuer. Alas! A tree root caught his foot and threw him on his face. As he rose the sword ran him through from back to breast. Staggering, grasping at air, he turned on Nishioka; spitting out his grudge with the clots of blood. His last words of hate were mingled with the rumblings of the storm close over head. The moon's brightness had disappeared. Heavy clouds rolled up, illuminated time and again by a glare of dismal light. Big gouts of rain began to wet the clothes of living and of dead in this solitude. For surety Nishioka gave the final thrust through the throat. Just then the bell of Ichigaya Gekkeiji reverberated through the thick wood. In the night hour it sounded sharp and sudden, like a harsh call to men to rise and witness. Nishioka wiped his sword on the dead man's dress. A flash of lightning lit the face, horrible and mocking in the death agony. As the chamberlain leaned over the corpse a voice spoke behind him, harsh and as if half stifled with the blood filling gorge and lungs--"Yai! Shintaro[u] has his way. He murders Jisuké--not once, but twice. Deep the grudge! Deep the grudge!" Then it broke into a wail, chilling in the helplessness of the malice expressed. Nishioka sprang to his feet and whirled around. In the uncertain light close by stood Jisuké. His hair in wild disorder, cheeks fallen in and corpse like with the bluishness of clay, the _chu[u]gen_ grinned and threatened. The living man could match him with his pallor. "Namu Amida Butsu! Get you hence vile spectre, or stay the test of Nishioka's sword." He made a sweep with the weapon. The figure disappeared. A mocking laugh resounded far and wide, followed by the same chilling hopeless wail. In haste, and pursued by the wild laughter, stumbling over stones and roots, Nishioka fled the wood, to make report at the feet of her ladyship. For long the figure of the _chu[u]gen_, crying, wailing in baffled malice, haunted the wood of the Ushinakizaka. Men hastened to pass by, none would enter; and in time the apparition became one of the seven marvels (the Nana-Fushigi) of the Bancho[u]. CHAPTER V THE REPORT TO THE TONO SAMA On the dull evening of the rainy season (June) Nakakawachi Shu[u]zen sat looking out on the dripping plants and trees. The home coming had brought no pleasure. The treachery of the favoured Shimo was assured. The father himself admitted the search made for the lover; wept and grovelled in shame and apology. O'Saku had seen him in person, when he came to the _yashiki_ several weeks before the flight. O'Tsugi had heard him call--"choi! choi!" had overheard O'Shimo's surprised exclamation--"my lover! my lover!" After several mysterious absences, on excuse to see her father lying ill, she had disappeared. On inquiry it was found that Cho[u]bei had never known a day of illness. The excuse was all a lie. "A case of the wild duck; the cock had come." Whose was the child she bore? O'Hagi laughed, and her attendant woman smiled, at his credulity. Shu[u]zen never suspected the deceit. Something of a _dilettante_ for the period he was learned in the Chinese tradition. Seventeen years, and a woman has no heart. This Shimo was a debauched wench. Truly she had foxed him with her superficial charms, picked him up thus easily in the Bancho[u]. With gesture of weariness and disgust he turned to the papers and scrolls on the desk before him. They were house accounts submitted by Nishioka, and none too pleasing. A round sum was missing on the person of the _chu[u]gen_ Jisuké. Sent out to make important payment, he had run off with the money, leaving no sign of his whereabouts. Just then the bell of Gekkeiji struck the hour of the pig (9 P.M.). With impatience Shu[u]zen swept the papers together. Her ladyship as companion of his wine feasts chilled the bottles with freezing glance. The monotonous talk of debts and expenses, exchanged with those around, added a bitter flavour. Always demands, or hints of demands, which made the meal a very time of penance. With some slowness he rose to attend the repast. Then from the garden side came a sad wailing voice. "Grateful the honoured return, so long delayed. Fond the thoughts of the past long weeks. Deep the longing for the honoured presence. Report is to be made to his lordship. Alas! Alas!" A chill went to the very heart of Shu[u]zen. Lamentable and grievous as was the sound, he had no difficulty in recognizing the voice of O'Shimo. Startled he turned in indignant anger to the _ro[u]ka_ whence the sound had come. He looked out into the darkness of the dripping night. Nothing was to be seen. Plainly he had thought too much of the girl, of her condition and the disappointment. He gave his body a violent shake to throw off this cold oppression and foreboding. Then slowly he took his way to the wine feast. The _saké_ would bring warmth. This was not the case. Freely as he drank, it added to powers of vision. His mind now always on the missing girl, the familiarity between spouse and chamberlain seemed strange for the relation between mistress and servant. As usual, with the finish of the last bottle, Nishioka accompanied him to his retirement. Shu[u]zen spoke sharply of the large increase in the expenses of the inner apartments. To meet these the revenues would have to be forestalled, the income anticipated. The smooth fellow met him more than half way in agreement. His lordship was too estranged from the _okugata_. Greater familiarity toward the women's apartments would be the needed restraint. Deign his presence this very night. Nishioka Shintaro[u] spoke in no hypocrisy. The O'Kagé Sama now was longing for the rightful substitution. His nest well feathered, he would seek safer quarters with the softer charms of O'Han. On Shu[u]zen's abrupt gesture and refusal he took his departure, almost betraying his own disgruntlement. Comical was his despairing gesture as he took his way to the bed of her ladyship. The temple bell struck the seventh hour (3 A.M.). It roared and reverberated through the room. Shu[u]zen opened his eyes. He was tormented with the thirst inspired by his copious libations. His head was heavy and whirling. He took a long draft from the jar close by his pillow. Then he rose to tread the corridor. On his return he sought to wash his hands. Turning to find the towel, close by him he saw a woman. Dressed all in white, slender to emaciation, her face concealed by the long hair which hung in heavy disordered masses over shoulders and bosom, she presented to him the desired article. As he would take the towel he spoke in surprise--"Who may this be, awake at this late hour for Shu[u]zen's service?" Again the sad lamentable voice made reply--"Fond the thoughts of his lordship. Long waited his return. Report is to be made." At sight of her face he gave a cry--"Shimo!" At the words the figure faded away. The outstretched towel fell to the ground. A slight rustle of the breeze swept the corridor. "Shimo! Shimo!" In amaze and suspicion came the words. Something had gone wrong here. Shu[u]zen pressed the towel to his lips, as to get rid of the nauseating taste in his mouth. Then came the voice from the garden. With hasty movement he threw back the _amado_. The wind sighed through the pines; a gentle patter of rain came in gusts. Close by the voice spoke again--as from a _yukimido[u]ro_, one of those broad capped stone lanterns, like to some squat figure of a gnome, and so beautiful an ornament with white snow cap or glistening with the dripping mirror of the rain. "Report is to be made. Long has Shimo waited her lord's return. In this Shimo was no treachery of heart. Devoted was her service to her lord. By the hand of Nishioka Shintaro[u], by the malice of O'Hagi Dono, Shimo and her unborn babe met a miserable end. Nor has the ill deed ended there. Go now to the chamber of the wife, and witness the adulterous deed. Deign to learn the truth from Shimo." The voice ceased. Shu[u]zen passed a hand over his wine heated brow. Fox or badger? Did some over bold and infamous apparition seek to delude him? With a bound he sought his chamber and the sword at his pillow. He would deal harshly with such lies. Then came a second thought. Why not ascertain the fact? He was the husband. His presence was a right. Softly he made his way to the inner apartments. At the outer ward he stumbled in the darkness against some object. "Aré! The Tono Sama!" With a cry of alarm up sprang the sleeping O'Han. She would have outstripped him in a race to the inner rooms, but Shu[u]zen was too quick for her. With hand over mouth he dragged her to the garden side. She would have cried out, and made resistance. Then he changed her tune. Lacking confession he held her flat and prostrate under him. Firmly grasping both wrists tight together, he forced his dagger between the hands, and began to twist the keen blade. Unable to resist the torture she soon told all she knew, confessed her own part of watch and ward in the offense. This done, he drove the weapon through her throat and left her pinned to where she lay, the limbs feebly twitching in the last throes. Assured of his suspicions Shu[u]zen now sought to surprise the lovers. Cautiously he approached the sleeping room of her ladyship from the inner side. There was no doubt of it. In the very throes of her passion O'Hagi was without disguise. Shu[u]zen threw back the screens on this vileness. "Lechers! For this disloyalty Shu[u]zen finds revenge! Make ready!" Nishioka Shintaro[u] sprang to his feet, only to sink down in a pool of blood which soaked the bed he had dishonoured. Severed from shoulder to pap he died forthwith. With wild screams O'Hagi fled to the corridor. As she reached it the point of the weapon was thrust through her back, to come out at the navel. As she writhed and twisted on the floor, Shu[u]zen measured the blow and nearly cut the body in twain. "Ah! In good season the old bawd presents herself." In fright the old woman's head had been thrust between the screens into the room close by the master. An easy mark it fell severed to the ground, the blood spouting its powerful streams from the arteries as from a pump. The woman O'Tsugi was a sterner task. Aroused by the noise she came stalking into the middle of the room, still rubbing eyes confused by sleep. "Ah! The villainous cuckold. He has murdered these, and now would add the next (_tsugi_). Not so!" With her wild jest she threw herself upon him. Trained soldier as he was Shu[u]zen found the contest no easy one against this virile woman. Getting the worst of it, she fastened her teeth deep into his hand. Grunting with pain Shu[u]zen flung her off, and quickly brought down the sword. Prostrate she lay, the blood stream pouring over the real lord of this harem. With a long breath Shu[u]zen surveyed his work. It was complete. Then he went to the outer ward of the apartments. To his call no one came. Repeated, in the distance of the _ro[u]ka_ appeared from the outer ward (_omoté_) the old and faithful Nakamura Saisuké. At sight of his lord, dyed in blood from head to foot, he threw up his hands. Without undue haste or any words Shu[u]zen led him to the scene of the punishment. Respectfully Saisuké brought a cushion. Then prostrate he waited for his lord to speak. Long endured the silence. Then said Shu[u]zen briefly--"Caught in the act of adultery this Shu[u]zen has put to death the guilty. The results are most important. The lack of discipline in the House is sure to lead to the honoured punishment by the suzerain. From this there is no escape." Saisuké surveyed the scene with the calm eye of experience. "Be in no haste, my lord. This Saisuké in his long experience has seen many deeds of violence. For the present this matter need not be published. Of the outer apartments (_omoté_), the _chu[u]gen_ and servants need know nothing. In any case they do not count, and can be sent away. The others are not curious; moreover they are loyal, as _samurai_.... Of the inner apartments--a very clean sweep has been made. Deign to leave matters for the present to this Saisuké." With approval the old man examined the handiwork of his lord. It was most thorough, even to the eye of this remnant of the battle field. Then he went to work. The bodies he conveyed to the side of the artificial mound in the garden. Digging out part of the hill, here he buried them; forced in, dove-tailed together, in the smallest space; the old man grumbling at the ground they occupied. Then with water he washed out the blood stains on the wood work. When dry he would plane out tell-tale marks. Meanwhile he would serve his lord, to the exclusion of all others. Would the Tono Sama deign to rest? With sad misgivings the _kyu[u]nin_ (house officer) watched Shu[u]zen as he retired to his room. Himself he mounted guard at the women's entrance, to prevent all intrusion. Nakamura Saisuké's heart was pure. His age beyond recall. For two days he struggled, alone in his task. On one pretext or another the _samurai_ were sent off, one here one there, on lengthy missions. Perhaps the old man's efforts had been too great. In the course of the day a _chu[u]gen_, come on some affair, found him flat on his belly, groaning with pain as in the very last extremities. To the man's inquiries he could but cry out with colic and distress. Aid was brought, but only to find him dead. Then a second discovery was made. Report was necessary to his lordship. Here all was found closed against reception. On making their way into the inner room Shu[u]zen was found, clad all in white, the bloody dirk in hand, the body fallen forward on the ceremonial mats. He had cut his belly open, on retiring for the night. All now was in confusion. Should the _karo[u]_ be awaited. None knew this exile to the Ko[u]shu[u] fief, beyond his reputed morose severity. Official there was none to whom to make report. They were afraid, and took their own part. With everything of value they could lay their hands on they fled in different directions. The open gate and abandonment attracted attention. The dead body of Shu[u]zen was proved a voluntary _seppuku_ (cut belly) for some cause; that of the old man required no explanation. The inquiry set on foot led only to confusion, and was soon lost in the greater question of the heirship. Placed in charge of Yamada Dono, a caretaker was sought for the _yashiki_. A property tangled in a long dispute, this would seem a pleasing task and one to summon many applicants. But this was not the case. Successful candidacy was followed by early exodus. None could endure the frightful sounds heard every night; the cries of pleasure followed by the screams of those in the agony of a painful dying. Spectral lights were seen, the old well in the garden poured forth its confined spirits, all the evil influence of the place was rejuvenated in the minds of people by this last disaster. "Thus the matter rests. 'Tis not this Shimo who is the cause of these nightly scenes of strife and pain. In mad chase Shu[u]zen Dono, the Okusama, the villainous Nishioka and his concubines, act the scene of their cutting off. Shimo has but her part, to find Nirvana in the worship of the upright. Deign this act of kindness." At the fierceness of the voice Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon started. The red light of dawn was pouring into the open room. All sight of the dreadful vision had faded from the wall before him. Vision, or fact? It had been too vivid to doubt. Yet as he came to the mound he passed around it. On the side next to the lake now he noticed that it was all caved in, an obvious depression. The tale then had truth. Thus he took his way from the haunted precincts, determined to secure the _yashiki_ as his own, and the future rest and peace of Nirvana to the unhappy O'Shimo. CHAPTER VI THE SHRINE OF THE O'INARI SAMA Something has been already said of the _chu[u]gen_ Isuké, unwilling guide of Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon to the haunted house of the Go Bancho[u]. Thus is the second person of the name of Shu[u]zen introduced into the traditions and history of the Bancho[u]. Of him and his experiences with its denizens something is to be said. Okumura Shu[u]zen had distinguished himself in the Amakusa uprising of 1637-8. A retainer of Matsudaira Nobutsuna he had not been the last man to force his way into the blazing ruins of Arima castle. He did his very best amid the struggling mass of halt, maimed, and blind, after the real defenders of the castle had died weapons in hand. He was able to present himself before his lord with a reasonable number of his own company with heads on their shoulders; and a phenomenal number of heads minus shoulders, of all ages and sexes--men, women, and children--of the castle inmates. Against the once owners Shu[u]zen had little grudge. So much was to be said of him. In private he railed against the bad rule which had brought him and his fellows into the field against the embattled farmers. But this was a thing to be endured; not cured, except by time. Rebellion against the liege lord, under the leadership of _samurai_ once retainers of the cowardly Konishi Yukinaga, added edge to his sword and point to his spear. His service brought him in the train of his lord's progress to Edo. In the report made Okumura Shu[u]zen figured so well, that request--amounting to command--transferred him to the Tokugawa over-lord. Made _hatamoto_ with fief of four hundred _koku_ he was as well liked by his greater lord as when in the humbler service of a _daimyo[u]_. Five years of faithful work, and the necessities of Government for his _yashiki_ site in Mita received the reward of a liberal grant of another site in the Go Bancho[u], together with the thousand _ryo[u]_ of costs of removal. The work of transfer was pushed forward. The more modest abode of a lord of moderate income, and the massive gateway with its supporting walls and fence of closely woven, sharp pointed, bamboo retiring into the distance now were ready to shut in Shu[u]zen to the privacy of his share in the suzerain's defence. Plainly Shu[u]zen Dono put more confidence in his own prowess, or insignificance, than in the strength of outer defences against sudden attack of those at feud with him. Part of his tract inclosed a shrine of the Inari goddess. This had still its worshippers. On his inspection Shu[u]zen noted the loneliness of the building, its desolation. Yet it was clean swept and kept, and a money box for offerings was proof of attendance at the shrine. Whether this was of man or beast was not so easy to determine, for traces of the latter were plain to the eye. Their tracks swarmed about the building itself. As Shu[u]zen stood in some uncertainty, a woman of the middle class appeared. To inquiries she admitted that the care of the shrine was due to herself and her piety; a care gladly rendered to its efficacy. It had returned to her a son once sent adrift to the provinces; and to her affection a husband who had gone astray much closer home, for the intruding female was a minor member of her own household. Finding excuse in some domestic misdeed, the worthy cit had sent forth the damsel into the wilderness of the world with the fruit of her experience. The relief of this incubus, and the return of a more rightful heir than promised, the good lady attributed to the virtue of her prayers to the Inari Sama. She was urgent to bring support to her views in the general opinion of all the neighbourhood, mainly of the Ko[u]jimachi village. These corroborated what she said as to the shrine's efficacy and petitioned for its continued support. Made the tutelary shrine of the _yashiki_, separated therefrom by a mere brushwood fence, this Inari Jinja of the Bancho[u] continued to exist for the good of the public and the annoyance of the amiable Okumura Shu[u]zen. Its _kannushi_ (Shinto priest) he could never find. The woman and others said that he lived at Ushinakizaka. At least the money contributions were always accounted for, although they had never seen his face. A few days before the formal opening of the _yashiki_ the _chu[u]gen_ Isuké and the workmen stood with puzzled faces before a hole discovered underneath the flooring of the shrine. It led to some passage or cave. None were in humour to investigate, perhaps to the annoyance of the O'Inari Sama. At Isuké's direction, and with difficulty in the cramped space, it was found possible to shove into place the massive granite slab which fitted tightly into the aperture, and plainly belonged to it. "A one time store house of the god," quoth Isuké. With that he and the others betook themselves to their divers tasks of finishing the clearing up of building and surroundings. In the excitement and confusion of moving in there was little thought of the cavity in this twelfth month of Kwanei twentieth year (January 1644), and the idea of making report was lost sight of until other conditions brought up again the subject. The ceremonial visits of the New Year, the congratulations and presents, were to be made to the suzerain by his attendant _hatamoto_ and the _daimyo[u]_ then in Edo town. Every _yashiki_ was in a turmoil of excitement and confusion. Even in the greater _yashiki_ there was demand for outsiders to carry the _hakomochi_ or long boxes, for the _rokushaku_ (six footers) or tall fellows to carry the sedan chair, for others to bear the _kappakago_ or rain-coat boxes. _Samurai_, _ashigaru_, spearholders, _chu[u]gen_, _zo[u]ri_ holders--these were attendant in the _yashiki_. But the minor establishments were mainly dependent on outside aid to swell the lord's train. Hence the rôle of Bandzuin Cho[u]bei and his successors was no sinecure, in addition to the exercise of the art of arranging time and place so that the inferior lords would be least inconvenienced by the necessary and often humiliating deference to their superiors in rank. The guild patron looked well to the interests of his employers--_daimyo[u]_--with small regard to those who shifted for themselves; which was one of the causes of grudge by the _hatamoto_ against Cho[u]bei, later removed from the scene by assassination. Every horse in Edo, destined for the morrow's ceremony, underwent the pampered treatment that the groom Kakunai devoted to his master's nag. On the preceding day Kagé (Fawn colour) had been treated to all the luxuries of horse diet. He must eat for to-day and for to-morrow, and perform all the offices connected there with beforehand. Said Kakunai--"Kagé, be circumspect and constipated. To-morrow the master offers congratulations at the castle. Kagé is stuffed beyond measure to-day, that he be able to fast to-morrow. Show no discontent. For the passage of the sun there is to be no eating, and but a modicum of drinking. Halt not the procession for unseemly purposes." He stroked the horse, and the pleased animal purred and whinnied with the contentment of a cat at being petted. Then harshly said a voice in the ear of the bending Kakunai--"For this feed of the year's end thanks are rendered. Though not exactly of the kind desired, the intent has been good and the stomach filled. Hence congratulations in turn for the New Year season." Kakunai jumped as if some one had thrust the unblunted end of a spear into his posteriors. He looked around, and over, and under the horse. "Who speaks? Where from? And what concerning?... Yai! Yai! It's Kagé!... Is no one hiding hereabouts, to make a fool of Kakunai?" With eyes bolting out he backed away in terror. The horse grinned broadly, showing its ugly yellow teeth in attempt at graciousness--"It is true. Kagé, addresses the honoured _betto[u]_ Kakunai, gives congratulations to his friend." Kakunai did not wait to receive them. Now he bolted forth in person, to burst into the room of the _chu[u]gen_ Isuké, just then struggling to arrange garments and hair for attendance on his lord's progress. Head throbbing from not unliberal potations due to the seasons festivities this was no pleasant task. To Kakunai's report the answer was prompt and sour--"Kakunai is a liar or a fool; or if he would play a jest on Isuké, his own head shall ache as badly." Kakunai accepted the challenge and asseverated the truth of his report. Not at all convinced, and with a gloomy satisfaction of the idea of having it out with Kakunai on failure of the proof, Isuké accompanied the groom to the stable. Kakunai gingerly made up to the horse--"Kakunai has been friend to Kagé. Hence he is called liar or fool or mountebank. Deign to prove his truth, Kagé Dono." Respectfully he bowed to the horse. The latter at once turning to the _chu[u]gen_, brayed into his face--"'Tis fact. Kagé is at least as human as these his brothers. He speaks to whom he wills. Not so with Isuké and Kakunai. A word to the Tono Sama, and Kagé will kill and eat these his friends. Keep his good will by friendship." Gently the horse raised a front hoof. The voice was harsh; and the push, though gentle--for a horse--sent Isuké flat, with reminder of Kagé thus closely applied. Without a word the _chu[u]gen_ wallowed from the floor, none too clean, and took to flight. Kakunai followed after, holding his nose. In the privacy of the _chu[u]gen's_ room Isuké changed to sweeter garb and discussed the matter with Kakunai. Should his lordship be informed? Kakunai, as immediate attendant and in greatest danger, earnestly protested. Isuké at any time might be brought into closest contact with Kagé in his office of _chu[u]gen_ attending his master. They agreed that it would be very disagreeable to be killed and eaten, especially with such evidences of Kagé's powers of disposition. Hence nothing was to be said; or rather each agreed to leave the matter of report to the other. Great was the crush and excitement on this day of the year. Long and continuous were the processions (_gyo[u]retsu_) of _daimyo[u]_ and _hatamoto_ making their way to and from the castle. The rule of the day was to avoid unnecessary collision, as far as possible; not only in the matter of precedence, but of order. Commoners, male and female, old and young, _ro[u]nin_, _samurai_, according to their caste squatted or prostrated themselves in reverential attitude as the palanquin of some lord passed by. Caustic or benign, generally malicious, the comment of the Kidahachi and Yajiro[u]bei--"O[u]kubo Hikoroku Dono; 'tis true he possesses influence, and the roughness of Hikoza Sama, but the keen wit of the honoured father lacks."--"Yet the lord O[u]kubo has much kindness beneath his roughness. The latter is passport to the favour of the suzerain." Iyeyasu Ko[u] ruled by statecraft; Hidétada Ko[u] by benevolence; the third Sho[u]gun Iyemitsu Ko[u], by rough energy. Such the tradition of the personality of these three men handed down in Nippon's history. With the passage of Tadamune Ko[u], of the great Sendai fief, heads went very low. Great his wealth, and greater still was his influence with the Suzerain. Tadamune swept proudly on; the future disasters represented in the boy who rode close to the palanquin, and whose licentious life later threatened to wreck the wealth and position of the great house. At the dismount notice (_geba-fuda_) Okumura Shu[u]zen, accompanied by two pages, donned _zo[u]ri_ (sandals) and betook himself to the palace. He was a small figure in this crush of great nobles, but as _hatamoto_ had his right and duty of being present at the palace; both rigidly enforced, and assuredly with greater regard and welcome than most of the men of much greater rank, always regarded with suspicion. The modest train of a four hundred _koku_ lord was squeezed into a corner of this mass of underlings waiting the return of their masters from audience. Close companion to his beloved and now feared Kagé, the groom Kakunai was well satisfied with his insignificance. Great was his consternation to hear the harsh voice of his equine friend in his ear. A whisper to Kagé meant a roar to the crowd--"Naruhodo! The stench of these humans excels even that of the stable. One is as much confined here as there. His lordship has now departed. Deign, Kakunai San, to indulge in amusement. Let's be off--to the Kwannon of Asakusa, to the Yoshiwara. Here there is naught but press and riot. In the pleasure quarter both convey diversion. Deign so to regard it." With wide open mouths those around turned to the quarter whence came these uncomplimentary terms. Kakunai was sweating with fear--"Shut up!... Rude? Then deign to be silent. Great the press. To withdraw is difficult; to desert his lordship impossible. Silence is the part of the inferior." At this exercise of authority the horse grumbled loudly--"Away from the stinking stable one feels gay and at ease. Quicksilver runs in the veins. At Yoshiwara the _hatsudochu[u]_ will be in progress. Following the processions of the honoured _oiran_, liberal will be the _saké_ offered at the tea houses. Deign, Kakunai San, to reconsider your purpose to remain." At this Kakunai almost melted into the icy puddle on the ground. He shivered as he wiped the cold sweat dripping from his forehead. At first voices said--"Who is speaking in these ribald terms? Kakunai San is it not? Who the companion?... Oya! 'Tis the horse which talks! Asakusa and Yoshiwara? What say the women to the presence of the beast? Eh! Off with you, Kakunai San, to show which is horse and which groom." They crowded around the pair, not daring to come close. Kakunai felt extremely unwell. He could not deny the fact. "Like boys, he boasts beyond his powers. The power of speech runs loose. Yet as a horse it is a wise beast, the treasure of a four hundred _koku yashiki_, since none other possesses his like. Deign to note his own proclamation of his tastes." This was to throw the consequences of discovery on the animal, to file the sharpness of teeth against the promised mauling of Kakunai's flesh. Then he waxed eloquent and proud--"A fine horse indeed! Such a horse in battle is unequalled. Is it not so, Kagé?" And Kagé promptly answered to his friend's praise. "A horse of noble quality, with good deeds to his credit, gains reputation. At the astonishment of the foe the rider runs them through with the spear. Hence gain of heads, and reputation to both steed and master." Kagé spun round, letting fly hoofs in all directions, shaking his head and biting savagely. At this display of battle fire those too close fled in disorder. At a safe distance wonder and advice was expressed. "Deign to be off, Kakunai San. Truly the animal is foxed, and foxes enough are to be found in Yoshiwara. He will find company without fail." Kakunai, as he restrained the beast, now full at ease--"Of that we are assured. Alas! He cannot squat. In that he is clumsy, as is the red haired, green-eyed western barbarian. Otherwise it is not Kakunai who would bring coin to Nakanocho[u], but convey money hence." Some agreed, and some disagreed, and all congratulated. Thus did horse and groom get much advertisement at the O[u]te-mon, to the subsequent profit of both. Shu[u]zen, audience granted, appeared at the castle gate. Respectfully the crowd drew apart, and watched the lord depart with his train. Never had one of the minor _hatamoto_ attracted greater attention; and of these many were notable men for personal exploits. Entirely unconscious of this notice Shu[u]zen rode off to his _yashiki_. In the course of the succeeding days many visits were to be paid, and the wondrous fact had chance to spread from the under world to the surface. At the _yashiki_ of Abé Shiro[u]goro[u] the salutations were exchanged; the spiced _saké_ to preserve life--the _to[u]so_--was brought forth. Shu[u]zen detected in his host a quizzical, even amused attitude. Said Shiro[u]goro[u]--"Shu[u]zen Uji, did he deign to ride, or mount the _kago_ (palanquin)." The question was abrupt, and seemed not over courteous. A _hatamoto_ of four hundred _koku_ possessed steed and spearmen. Abé Shiro[u]goro[u] was a great lord, and Shu[u]zen answered smoothly, seeking any source of offense. To his affirmative, said the host--"Then Shu[u]zen Dono perhaps deigned to mount the favourite and talking horse.... Surely he knows of the animal's great gift.... Congratulations are due, for what is the talk of the castle precincts." Shu[u]zen's astonishment was too great not to be genuine. He was the first to propose to Abé Dono the taking of a look at the noted beast. He was eager to inspect an animal, which, it seemed, he had as yet never seen. The two lords came forth to the _genkwan_ (house entrance). On summons Kakunai brought forward the horse, expecting his lord to mount, not exactly understanding the presence of the lord of the mansion. Shu[u]zen's first words enlightened him unpleasantly. With some severity--"Kakunai, does this horse talk?" Thunderstruck Kakunai did not know what answer to make. Kagé could bite. His master could do worse, if enough angered. He hesitated--"Hai!" Quoth Shu[u]zen--"'Hai' is no answer. Has the horse power of human speech?" Kakunai put his hand to his head, then turned to Kagé, who was obstinately silent. He gave him as hard a blow on the neck as he dared, without result. "The Tono Sama has heard the tale; as has this Kakunai. His head in a whirl, Kakunai knows not whether it be true or not. By an humble groom such matters are not understood. To report idle gossip or the illusions of one's brain, savours of impudence. Deign the question in person. Kagé refuses answer to this Kakunai." Thus skilfully he lied. Kagé eyed him with approval; Shu[u]zen with some doubt. He turned to the horse--"Kagé, it is said you speak. Shu[u]zen is the master. Answer without lying." Kagé spoke, indifferent to rank and without circumlocution of polite society--"'Tis so; and just as does a human being. Truly Shu[u]zen Sama has supplied a most foul smelling place to learn the art." Abé Shiro[u]goro[u] snickered--"Kagé Dono is too precise. Would he learn the art of converse over his master's wine?"--"Not unwillingly," replied the nag. "But in any case he would have Isuké and this lazy groom make better and more frequent use of broom and bucket. The good offices of Abé Dono are requested." By this retort courteous the two noblemen were silenced and amused. Uncertain as to the course of further converse with the beast Okumura made salutation, mounted and departed homewards. As he gave the horse into the groom's charge he said--"It is for Kakunai to keep in mind the words of Kagé." As he vigorously applied broom and water to the stall and vicinity of the favoured animal, Kakunai mentally determined that on the whole Shu[u]zen Dono was the more dangerous of the two. Hence-forward he would be careful to remember all that Kagé said--and make report. CHAPTER VII THE LUCK OF OKUMURA SHU[U]ZEN The first efforts of Shu[u]zen at solving this mystery were not overly successful. A _samurai_, he betook himself to the highest exponent of the caste cult. In search of illumination he hit upon Hayashi Daigaku no Kami Dono. This man, learned in all the lore of Morokoshi (China), head of the certified institute of letters--the University--could but confess his ignorance--vicariously. Rats nesting in the tails of horses formed part of the experience of books, but not of that of men. Of talking horses there was no authenticated case. The whole matter remained without proof. He had never heard of such. Shu[u]zen squatted in a drowsy stupefaction as an incomprehensible learning was poured into his ear. He choked with the dust raised from the ancient volumes, tenderly and reverently pawed over by the learned doctor, who seemed dust-proof. Finally through the mist he heard the asseveration that it must be the work of fox or badger. It was matter for the diviner, not the divinity of the learned. With this Hayashi Dono gave the pile of dusty script before him a mighty thump, and disappeared behind the cloud he had raised. Okumura Shu[u]zen sought the open air and respiration. Where now should he go for counsel? He would sell the beast. Kakunai sought mercy. He was but a groom, and death was easy at his master's hand. At all events easier than the one promised by Kagé, if Kakunai should lead him out to the market, and with fluent lies send him forth to earn the cruel livelihood of his kind between the shafts of a cart. Shu[u]zen was a kindly man; the horse one deserving better treatment. The groom's terror and the beast's threat added a new and interesting element to this search into the unknown. On the next day was to be heard memorial service for the ancestral tablets. This was to be performed in person by the abbot of the Seisho[u]ji of Shiba, Bankei Osho[u] known to fame. Shu[u]zen snoozed and exercised patience as the abbot read and expounded the lengthy _sutra_ scroll. Over the subsequent repast he broached the subject of the talk of beasts, and his own particular difficulties. Bankei Osho[u] was most interested. All animals had speech and memory according to their kind. Food, a master's kindness, their own particular concerns, were matters of great intelligence among them. Why then should speech be aught else than to possess the organ? Such was the case with parrots. Monkeys evidently understood each other well, understood the gestures of men. As to the horse, there were very ancient records of the speech of such; so dim in the memory of men that probably they were mere talk of ignorance. But he would see this wondrous beast. Deign that guidance be supplied. Shu[u]zen grasped at the offer. The abbot spoke with an ease and glibness that only the ecclesiastic on his own ground can show to those ignorant of his subject. He wrapped his lore, made easy for the beginner, in such technical phraseology, that Shu[u]zen could grasp at the meaning without knowing anything about what the abbot said, and hence had all the greater respect for the immense truth which he could see and not understand. Appreciation is as good as knowing--for the one who would pose--and soon Shu[u]zen and the cleric stood at the house entrance, waiting the production of the horse. Isuké in haste had carried the message to Kakunai. Kakunai, assured of his master's forbearance and Kagé's accomplishments, had been none too sober since that happy day. Said he aloud--"A horse is not an ass; and a talking horse is one of his kind. Tip money to see the wondrous beast has flowed into the stable; and wine has flowed into Kakunai. For Kagé there has been soft rice paste (_mochi_) and dumpling (_dango_) in unstinted quantities. The pastry cook has been overworked. Kagé, now seize the opportunity. Speak with fluency and argument. Ah! If you had but the taste of this Kakunai! Wine would be an inspiration."--"Just try me!" chimed in the brute's voice. "Follow up the wine with rice cakes in syrup (_shiruko_). Otherwise Kagé opens not his mouth, except to bite. Grievous is it to exercise speech, and to witness the benefits accruing to the human hog. Henceforth Kakunai must share alike with Kagé." At this rebellion Kakunai was dumbfounded--"Nay, Kagé! _Shiruko_ and _saké_ for a beast? Never would such come to the inside of the belly (mind) of Kakunai. If you did but know its content...."--"Shut up!" was the nag's discourteous response. "Kagé knows it well. You have eaten _takuan_ (pickled radish), and it smells none too sweet. A little further off, good Sir: now--who is this would be interviewer?" Reduced to proper proportion Kakunai made humble reply. "Most fitting company for the honoured Kagé Sama. The abbot Bankei deigns his presence." The horse gave a violent snort, and plunged back to the limit of his halter. "Kagé talks not with a priest, nor henceforth with anyone." Kakunai was all consternation--"But Kagé Dono ... the tips! This refusal is terrific. Why not favour the curiosity of the Osho[u] Sama? Deign to reconsider. The dainties of Kagé, the wine of Kakunai, are at stake. Silent before the Osho[u], the Danna Sama in anger will strike off the head of Kagé. Kakunai loses friend and fortune at a blow." The animal duly mused. "It is so. Shu[u]zen Dono of late has been short tempered. It cannot be avoided. Better had it been for Kakunai to take this Kagé and depart to country fairs and towns; to pick up much coin for wine and dainties. However, all may go well. Delay not past the coming night to join yourself with Kagé. Between the service of Shu[u]zen and that of Kagé this low fellow (_yaro[u]_) Kakunai must not hesitate."--"Just so," agreed the groom. "It is mere matter of gambling anyhow that any ill occurs. Drinking wine, does Kagé also gamble?" A shudder went through the frame of the horse--"Why speak thus? Of horses' bones the dice are made. Would Kagé trifle with the relics of his kind? Make answer, Kakunai." He spoke with a fierce earnestness. Kakunai stammering sought answer. Just then Isuké appeared, to urge all speed. With lowered heads man and beast appeared at the house entrance. Kakunai touched three fingers to the ground. To insure due reverence Kakunai had haltered Kagé so that he could talk, but hardly move a limb. At sight of the beast Bankei Osho[u] took his most severe ecclesiastical pose. Dressed in violet robes, the gold embroidered stole (_kesa_) over his shoulders, the rosary of crystal beads in hand, he approached the horse. With the brush of long white hair which clears away the dust of the world's offences (_hossu_) he swept the circumambient air. Long he observed the nag. Then coming close to it he grasped the forelock. Kagé raised his head, with open mouth as if about to snap. The abbot continued his recitation of the holy _sutra_. Mouth still wide open, clumsily the horse sank on his knees before the priest. Then suddenly and deftly Bankei thrust a bolus into the open mouth, which closed as moved by springs. Sweeping the air with _hossu_ and his rescued arm--"Acquire the heart of virtue. Assume the true nature, and seek Nirvana." He kept on stroking the beast's head with the rosary. Once or twice Kagé opened his mouth as if to speak. Then incontinently the body rolled over lifeless. The bystanders looked on with fear and amazement. Without speaking the abbot took the arm of Shu[u]zen and accompanied him within. Kakunai, left to himself, rolled to the ground as speechless as his four legged charge. Tears of sorrow and anger flowed copiously. "Ah! He is dead! Kagé is dead! Wise was he to advise flight. Alas! This beast of a _bo[u]zu_ (priest), what purge did he use, thus to cut off at once the breath of Kagé? No more gambling, no more wine, with Kagé nicely bedded and asleep in his stable, and Kakunai with equal luck asleep in the pleasure quarter! Alas! Alas! Kagé is no better now than a dead ass--while Kakunai still lives." Thus he vented his grief, to the amusement of his fellows who had shared but little in his fortunes. Meanwhile Shu[u]zen and the abbot were otherwise engaged. Said Bankei--"Deign to relate something of how Shu[u]zen Dono came to this _yashiki_. Honoured Sir, was not the former site in Mita? How came the change?" Shu[u]zen explained the conditions and the time of change to his new site and experiences. If there was aught of grudge, it attached rather to place than person. To this Bankei Osho[u] was agreed. "The fact of the case is plain to Bankei. The spirit directing the actions of the horse is not the spirit of the animal. The possession brought to an end by the exorcism, the alien spirit departed, and the carcass of the animal deprived of this influence, it fell to the ground an inert mass, like to the abandoned shell of the cicada. But the malevolent influence is to be found. This is the task of Shu[u]zen Dono. Deign, honoured sir, then to have memorial rites performed by this Bankei, and no longer will the _yashiki_ be haunted by such unusual and unseemly performance.... Daigaku no Sensei? He is but a Confucianist, bound to the letter of material substance. Nor would he confess the ignorance of the spiritual world he undoubtedly is gifted with, of the law of punishment for deeds performed in a past existence (_ingwai_) as taught by the Lord Buddha. The materialist has his nose to earth, and can see naught else. The idiot has his nose to heaven, and can see naught else. The Buddha's Law comprehends Heaven and Earth. Hence its truth." With this expression of the _odium theologicum_ the worthy abbot departed templewards, accompanied, as gage for further proceedings and profit, by the carcass of the horse. Bankei had this inhumed in the ground behind the main hall of the temple. Kakunai superintended these last obsequies. The abbot's words, as to the malevolence of the influence involved, was proved to Shu[u]zen the next day, when report was brought that the groom had hanged himself at the gratings of the stall once occupied by Kagé. Moved by this strong hint, Kakunai was sent to join his equine friend in one common grave. Warned by the unusual nature of these events Shu[u]zen determined at once to trace out the source of this evil influence. It was his duty as a _samurai_ to suppress such manifestations occurring so close to the suzerain's dwelling. It was to his own interest to free the _yashiki_ from such noxious vapours. The _karo[u]_, Beita Heima, set on foot an investigation. Then it was that Isuké the _chu[u]gen_ had thought of the hole detected under the shrine of the O'Inari Sama. On Shu[u]zen's order the _karo[u]_ undertook the task of examining this suspicious adjunct to the _yashiki_. Torches in hand several _chu[u]gen_, under the direction of the _samurai_, were appointed to the work. The men hesitated a little to violate the precincts of the shrine. Growled Beita--"The carpenters did not hesitate to build it. What they put up, men can destroy. Up with the boarding. Thus the stone easily will be raised." The directions were carried out. There were many tracks of beasts, all of which seemed to converge to this spot. With removal of flooring and joists, soon the massive lid of granite was raised on edge. With a thud and cloud of dust it fell to one side. The men drew away, not only checked by the dark aperture exposed, but by the foul odour which poured up from the confined space. Holding his nose the _karo[u]_ took a lighted torch for further inspection of depth and means of entrance. "Um! A shallow place; not more than a _jo[u]_ (10 feet). Who volunteers to enter? Come! Don't be backward on his lordship's service. Isuké, eh?" Isuké came forward readily enough at the call. He was a brave man, and moreover a little angered at the fate of his one time friend, Kakunai. If the beast of a horse, or the spirit beast, held occupancy here, Isuké would deal with him. The kick of spiritual hoofs and the bite of immaterial teeth had no terrors for Isuké. Carefully inspecting his ground he took the leap. A lighted torch was lowered to him. With this he marched off, the light growing quickly faint in the darkness. "Oya! Oya! 'Tis strange. The stench--it is unendurable. The darkness too thick even for the torch. It fails to burn." For a time his voice was heard rumbling off with increasing distance. To repeated shouts no answer was returned. Said Heima--"Isuké has gone too far, out of range. Some other must bear him aid.... What! All milk livers? You, Gensuké, love the wine cellar. Its care would seem to be your calling. Now down with you! Here is one made to hand for the _yashiki_. Make report of the discovery to his lordship." Gensuké was most unwilling, but his comrades loudly applauded the choice. He was lowered into the hole by hands energetic to lend him assistance in reaching its depths. Provided with a light he too started off on his march into the darkness. "Iya! Iya! What stench! 'Tis past endurance. Ah! There is a loud roaring yonder. Gensuké will investigate. Deign support in necessity." His voice also faded off with the distance. Then all was silence. Those outside now could hear the faint reverberation spoken of. To their shouts there was no answer. All were much alarmed. They looked into each others' faces. At the _karo[u]'s_ order there was now no hesitation, though there was some grumbling at the rashness of those who risked the wrath of the O'Inari Sama by the heedless undertaking. Three or four men at once jumped down into the hole. With dimly burning torches, and holding each other by the hand, they made their way into the blackness of the cavern. Almost at once came a cry, answered by others. Those above leaned eagerly over the aperture. Some took the leap. Soon the men appeared, dragging along the limp and helpless body of Gensuké. The trouble now was clear. The men had been overcome by the vicious air of the cave. Soon Isuké also was brought to the upper air. With the removal all the roar and reverberation was transferred to the surface. The two men lay unconscious, breathing noisily, and to all appearance in great extremity. Beita San at once ordered local aid. While friction and cold water was being applied, the leech summoned, Saito[u] Sensei, came on the ground. Heima questioned anxiously as to the men's condition. The Sensei reassured him--"It is but the noxious air of the cavern which has overcome them. A day or two, and they will be as good as ever." The old man wrinkled his face and chuckled a little as he surveyed the victims of the O'Inari Sama. Greatly was the reputation of the shrine for efficacy added to in this punishment. "Boy and man this aging Saito[u] Genan has known the place. Evil its repute. The cave is very ancient, and in the past much feared by people round about. Failure to worship has been followed by misfortune. Horse or cow has disappeared, house been burned down, or pregnant wife frightened into miscarriage by apparitions. Young girls attending at the shrine have disappeared. Its reputation is as evil as that of the Ko[u]jimachi well yonder." He jerked a finger in the direction indicated, at the neighbouring site beyond the bamboo fence. "A bolus, and these fellows are restored to consciousness." From his wallet he prepared the drug. Gensuké showed signs of life, opened his eyes, uneasily moving first this limb, and then that. Isuké sat bolt upright, with most stentorian snort. He waved both arms with a violence which sent his two supporters to the ground. In wrath he sprang up, but the malign effect was still too powerful. His legs wavered under him, and they had to come again to his aid. However, it was necessary to carry off Gensuké limp and helpless; with the support of the arms on each side of him, Isuké made his way back to the _yashiki_ on his own legs. Heima made report to his lord of what had passed, of the history of the place as reported by Saito[u] Sensei. Shu[u]zen pursed his lips, and inquired as to the condition of Isuké. The _chu[u]gen_ was a favoured attendant; one much trusted. At the end of a week he was summoned to his lord's presence. "And Katai (tough) Isuké, his experience has gone beyond his powers?" Shu[u]zen spoke with that slight jeering condolence which arouses obstinacy. Isuké, prostrate on his hands, expressed gratitude for his lord's reproof. The fault was not his. Overcome by the foul air he became giddy, then lost all sensation of time or place. "And the roaring and noises, these did not frighten Isuké into his faint?"--"Roaring, noise, there were none; beyond the gentle drip of water often heard in such places. The roaring heard must have been due to the snoring of Gensuké. The cowardly fellow still clings to the bed, sucking in the dainty fare of the invalid; not so, Isuké." Shu[u]zen had an idea. All the others were too struck by fear to be of aid--"Then Isuké fears not the work of fox or badger. He will again make the venture?"--"For the Tono Sama; though none too willingly," was the _chu[u]gen's_ reply. "Fox or badger? Let them but come under the knife of Isuké, and he will make soup of them; a better soup than they supply otherwise. But the stench!"--"And the foxes of Nakano (Shinjuku)?" Isuké blushed. His master was far too knowing. At Shu[u]zen's order that night Isuké met his lord at the steps of the Inari Shrine. The adventure pleased Shu[u]zen. He was still young enough to delight in exposure and difficulties. Plainly old Beita was not the man for this task. His retainers readily would obey their lord's direction. But Shu[u]zen hungered for a more direct credit. He stripped to his loin cloth in the cold winter night. Isuké followed his lord's example. The job would be no clean one. Then the two men dropped to the floor of the cavern. Isuké spoke in surprise. "Naruhodo! At night the place seems much brighter than by day." He looked around in some suspicion and astonishment. Then his eye rested on the torches. "Oya! The torch burns brightly, not dimly as before. Pfu! The stench is unaltered, but the air at least is breathable." Preceding his master by some ten paces, Shu[u]zen heard him give a shout. Hastening up, with Isuké he bent over the aperture of what seemed to be a well. What was its depth? "In with you, Isuké," said Shu[u]zen. The _chu[u]gen_ protested--"Nay! The Tono Sama deigns to jest. Is Isuké a bat (_ko[u]mori_), one to fly off into the darkness.... Ah! The depth is terrific. The light hardly shows the blackness of the place. It may reach down to Meido itself." Shu[u]zen lit a second torch, then cast it down into the cavity. He broke into a laugh. The light continued to burn brightly. "Meido then is not far off. The bottom of the well lies not five _shaku_ (feet) below. Now in with you!" Anticipating the _chu[u]gen_ he sprang down himself. Isuké spoke, holding his nose--"Heigh! Tono Sama, deign to go no further. The stink passes beyond measurement. It increases with distance gone. Peugh! It blows from yonder." He pointed to a low aperture in one corner of the roundish space in which they stood. Shu[u]zen could understand better now. The whole cave was due to water; had been formed by water in the loose volcanic soil. The well was a mere passage way by which it once had risen, and been drained off again. Isuké was right. With decuple vigour the stench now rose close to hand. "In with you," was the peremptory order. "Anything found in way of gold and silver belongs to Isuké; and caves are always rich in such finds."--"Is that so?" said the _chu[u]gen_--"It is the tale of old books; which often lie. But in with you, and find out." Under spur of avarice and command Isuké crawled into the passage. He had gone but a bare ten feet when Shu[u]zen heard a most fearful yell, saw the rapid progress outwards of the posteriors of Isuké. The man's face was chalk white--"Deign, Danna Sama, to go no further." He choked for utterance. "How now!" said Shu[u]zen in pretended astonishment. "Fox or badger? They were to be converted into soup for Katai Isuké, soft food for his grinders."--"For fox or badger Isuké cares not. He invites their presence.... Kiya!" Shu[u]zen in sport had placed a cold wet hand on his neck. "Ah! The Danna jests. Of fox and badger soup is made. With human stench it is not savoured. There is a dead body within. Hence the frightful odour." Shu[u]zen at once began to twist his head towel around his nose. With feeblest protest Isuké saw him take the torch and disappear into the passage. Soon his voice was heard. "Isuké! Isuké! Is he milk livered? How about the gold and silver? Would Isuké abandon it?" Isuké would not. In a trice he was on hands and knees, to rejoin his master who was roaring with laughter. "Gold and silver may be here," Shu[u]zen explained. "Otherwise Isuké would have backed out of the undertaking, all the way to the cave's entrance. Turn the body over. See whether it is of man or woman." Much put out Isuké did as he was bid. "Pfugh! Stirring does no good. The very flesh is melting from the bones. The hair of the beard and head show it to be a man." Shu[u]zen turned to a wider passage, plainly due in part to hand. By crouching he could enter into a larger chamber. In wonder and admiration he called to Isuké. In so far, the _chu[u]gen_ would pursue the venture. Besides would he not follow his master to Meido itself? "Look, Isuké! Such groining of the roof is only made by Nature's hand. The cave of Fudo[u] Sama at Meguro shows no finer sight." He pointed to the mass of interlacing roots of some huge _icho[u]_ rising from the ground above. Isuké grumbled assent, without much vigour. He was getting tired of this adventure. It was a satisfaction they could go no further. Shu[u]zen meanwhile was rummaging the place, which evidently had been a kind of dwelling. In a closet were found some coarse cooking utensils and crockery for food. A supply of firewood in one corner, and a box, completed the furniture. With curiosity Shu[u]zen turned over the books in the box. A cry brought Isuké to his side. "Your share, Isuké." He pointed to three shining silver _ryo[u]_ which lay below the scrolls. Isuké looked incredulous at the find. Then he prostrated himself before his master in deepest gratitude. With joy he pocketed the coin and shouldered the scrolls. There was nothing more to do. They sought the open air. The strange sight reported to him, Beita Heima the _karo[u]_ appeared before his master. In the early morning light Shu[u]zen was pouring buckets of cold water over Isuké, having himself undergone the same treatment at the _chu[u]gen's_ hands. "Kan mairi, Heima,"[7] said Shu[u]zen with a laugh. Then he explained matters to the astonished _karo[u]_. Isuké's further ablutions were left to other hands. The affair now was cleared up. The removal of the slab, the fresh air penetrating the cavern, made the removal of the body easy. This was to be sent to Bankei's care for proper burial and rites. Meanwhile Shu[u]zen with interest and increasing gravity examined his prize. The books were all on war. One was in the suspected script of the western barbarian. From its plates, it was a work on fortification, and the art of attack and defence. Shu[u]zen did not understand the Dutch words, but he regarded the find as of importance, at least as adding to his own merit. So likewise did Abé Bungo no Kami, minister for the month, and with a great liking for Shu[u]zen. He saw to it that the affair was to the latter's profit. The _Ometsuké_ inspected the books, inspected the cave, drank Shu[u]zen's wine, and commended the vigilance and energy of the _hatamoto_. The report was worth an added hundred _koku_ to his modest income. Isuké also counted his gains with joy; a means of continued defiance and pursuit of the foxes of the Nakano pleasure quarter. As to Bankei--the funeral rites had been performed, the _sutra_ read, the body inhumed in the same mound with those of Kakunai and the horse. Liberal had been the gift of Okumura Shu[u]zen for all these divers interments, and great the unction of Bankei at the accomplishment and solution of the mystery of the cave in the Bancho[u]. But one thing rested uneasily on his mind. What the identity of the evil spirit which caused these wonders? That night, as the abbot rested in his bed, there appeared at his pillow a man of some thirty odd years, tall, gaunt, hairy, ugly, and much dejected. "His eyes were prominent in his head, his lofty nose showed ability, he had the mouth of a shark." Plainly very great had been his wickedness. Prostrate the apparition gave thanks to the saint. All the spice and joy of evil doing had been exchanged for the insipidity of Paradise. Now he was threatened with Nirvana through the prayers of the saintly abbot. In life he had been the wicked So[u]ja Mushuku (lodgeless). A famous thief, he was the source of the raids on purse and person, on _yashiki_ in particular and the common people in general, which had caused much fear and distress in Edo. The cave of the Inari, a lucky discovery, had been his safe haunt from pursuit. None could betray him, for none of his band knew his lair. He would betray no one; but he would tell the abbot of his fate. It was Isuké who had sealed him up in the cave by thrusting into place the heavy cover. Here he passed miserable days in hunger until the poisonous air, gradually accumulating, had put an end to him. His spirit, however, had haunted the place, with no disposition to leave. With the opportunity he had entered the body of Kagé, in search of human requirements and enjoyments. Betrayed by appetite he had been driven forth by the prayers of the abbot, and solaced by his petitions for the future life. Deign to let the matter rest there, and not pursue him into the inanity, the nothingness of Nirvana. To this the practiced ear of the holy Bankei gave deep thought. This fellow already had forced the unhappy Kakunai to follow in his tracks. What might he not do to others in whom the abbot had far greater interest? "To such wickedness the gift of Nirvana is not likely. Bankei wastes his breath, and Shu[u]zen Dono his substance. Deign to enter Meido, be wholly purified of wickedness, and in a second birth, if in human form, be of a virtuous House. For present and past sins atonement is to be made. For those still living Bankei holds not his lips silent. Off with you at once to these insipid joys." He thrust the rosary of crystal beads into the vision's face. At once it disappeared, and Bankei woke amid a nauseating odour. He stretched himself in weariness--"A dream? Tribulation of the Five Viscera?" Yet he would report it to Shu[u]zen, and on the uncertainty of the truth secure further aid for man and horse. Hence the monument of the Bato[u] (horse-headed) Kwannon, which long stood on its mound behind the _hondo[u]_ of the Seisho[u]ji of Shiba. CHAPTER VIII AOYAMA SHU[U]ZEN These events could not fail to cause comment. It was in the general room of the _hiban_, the fire guard of the castle, that the discussion came to a head. There were a number of these guards for different quarters of the castle inclosure; and for better drill and coordination the officers met, apart from the site of their particular duties. This made the office of the _hiban_ a sort of club of the _hatamoto_, bringing together the members of the more particular cliques, known respectively as the Shiratsukagumi (white handle club), the Kingingumi (gold and silver clubs), the members of which knocked out a conspicuous tooth, replacing it with the metal ensign of their affiliation, and the Kubo no Shiro-oshigumi. These organizations, something like the Otokodaté of the townsmen in the closeness of the relations of their members, had by no means the same worthy object. They were often merely a way of ruffling it through the town, particularly at the amusement quarter of Asakusa; seeking quarrels with _ro[u]nin_, abusing women, and literally gravelling the discomfited townsmen, not seldom left on the ground, subsequently to be put into it. The Otokodaté, or chivalrous band, were indeed needed in this state of early Edo. They could hold their own, inasmuch as the _samurai_ involved dared not bring a quarrel to light. He had the advantage of his training; and by the rules of his caste did not hesitate to have assassinated a plebeian he could not overcome, and chose to regard as impertinent. Collisions with these, however, were rare. _Ro[u]nin_ were the particular object of dislike of the Tokugawa adherents. It was the great exception made, when Hida no Kami (Yagyu[u] Matajuro[u]) admitted Kumé no Heinai to his fencing room and discipleship. The _ro[u]nin_, of course, deserved the proscription, being often the devoted adherents of a lost cause--Hoo[u]jo[u] or Toyotomi--and unwilling to transfer their fealty to a second lord. The most noted and hated of the _ro[u]nin_, though free from any taint of rebellion to the Tokugawa, was this Heinaibei; the vilest assassination, that of his friend Bandzuin Cho[u]bei by Mizuno Juro[u]zaémon aided by other members of the Shiratsukagumi. Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon had related the mishap of his _chu[u]gen_, his own experience in pursuing the offenders. The old fellows, heroes of the Genwa and Kwanei periods, were gathered close to a _hibachi_. Despite the season age sought pretence of warmth or closer company. Said the veteran Matsudaira Montaro[u]--"O[u]kubo, what think you? Surely the ice water of gathering years runs in our veins. Such happenings, so close to the dwelling of the Ue Sama, never would have taken place in former days. But we are old. The stiffened joints and the wrinkles would not deceive such miscreants. 'Twould be a palpable fraud, our presentation."--"True," growled Shichinosuké; "but ice water runs in other veins than those who are old." Kondo[u] Noborinosuké, verging toward his fifties, now chimed in--"Naruhodo! The talk of these young chaps infects one with their own complaints. This one can but thump himself on the chest and speculate as to whether he has one lung, or two of the kind. This other limps and dreams of _kakké_. His tongue hangs out a yard, that he can better inspect its colour; and his legs are black and blue from efforts to detect a dropsy. A third excuses himself by a flux, which he would cure with hot wine; and a fourth is assured of a cold, to lead to all these and other ailments, and hence steeps himself night and day in the hot bath, the one to be most easily excused. Emma Dai-O[u] in Hell[8] could not afflict these fellows more than they grieve over themselves. Only in talk of their ailments do they find company. Plasters and medicaments for their persons, instead of armour and the quietus of the foe, these are the objects of their quest." The two old rascals, and their middle aged abettor, looked slyly over each other's heads at the younger men grouped in the rear, then at each other. Thus it was with these violent fellows of the actual battlefield. They would stir someone to action. "Heigh! Heigh! Not Endo[u] Uji: he at least has proved his mettle. The pressing offices of the day do not call for sleep all night. He is of the stock of Kiémon Dono. Old Hikoza never tired of tales of his father's prowess." Kondo[u] chuckled as he continued--"The old fellow (_oyaji_) spoke well of the dead. The living had need to take care of his praise of them. Witness Torii Dono and Akiyama Dono, at the two extremes of age. Good luck, as well as management, extricated them from the results of a commendation like to cost them much. Alas! His place is not to be filled." O[u]kubo Hikozaémon, governor of these wild fellows, keeper of the suzerain's conscience, had left his seat vacant these past five years. Sorrow for his loss did not prevent Noborinosuké bringing a bright and beady eye on Aoyama Shu[u]zen. O[u]kubo Shichinosuké followed the look. All of the old ones fastened Shu[u]zen with inquisitive glare. The object of their attention neither quailed nor showed undue eagerness. "The honoured ancients favour this Shu[u]zen with the task." His laugh was so cold and purposeful, his look so derisive and comprehending, that the old fellows in some confusion sought comfort in each other. This Aoyama Shu[u]zen was a very devil of a fellow. He had a perspicacity in finesse that the plain, keen, and honest bluntness of former days could not deceive. Aoyama was not one to charge with effeminacy in any form. He had a wife--whom he neglected. He had a page, whom he favoured. He had all the harsh vices and capabilities of the warrior age. Turning to Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon--"Endo[u] Uji has seen the vision, not fox or _tanuki_. This has been the experience of the _chu[u]gen_?" Saburo[u]zaémon did not like the connection; nor did he like Shu[u]zen. "It is fact. Rokuzo was bewitched, not Endo[u]. See to it that Aoyama Dono has better luck." Thus tacitly he would force the mission on Shu[u]zen. The latter suppressed his anger at the assumption. "Endo[u] Dono, as with this Shu[u]zen, is _hatamoto_ of the land. Such vile rascals as these do not make them object of their tricks."--"Don't be too sure of that," replied Endo[u]. "Neither fox nor _tanuki_ would care for the company of the vision. This Saburo[u]zaémon does but seek to give it rest--and himself." He spoke with some gloom. Said Aoyama with decision--"Agreed! What may be the reward?" A chorus of protest went up. "Reward! Reward!... The applause of all.... The interest in the tale, as with that of Endo[u] Dono, just recited." But Shu[u]zen smiled and shook his head--"Endo[u] Dono seeks the good will of an unworshipped demon." Saburo[u]zaémon shot a glance at him. "Shu[u]zen too has his object. Otherwise, let others volunteer." The force of what he said was made plain by the silence of the company. The stories told, none longed for the experience. Thought Montaro[u] testily--"This fellow always has something in his sleeve." With hesitation--"Endo[u] deserves reward, and claims it not. Aoyama would have it in advance. How now: a sword?" All looked inquisitively at Shu[u]zen. They were surprised and disgruntled at his gesture of dissent. He knew the ancients, and could suspect a trap. "Shu[u]zen knows the kind. As with buying radishes at Yanagibara; one good for nothing, and bringing anything but honour.... Shu[u]zen selects his own weapon, nor asks reward apart from the issue." Kondo[u] Noborinosuké clapped his hands. The younger man was a favourite and kindred spirit of his own, near enough in age to be congenial. "The presiding chair at the Endurance Society meeting. We are _samurai_, _hatamoto_ of the land. Gold is not to the purpose. A sword is bought with gold. Let Aoyama Uji make report to the meeting, and on that hang the office." Shu[u]zen was the first to nod eager assent. All agreed; with no great joy at prospect of the coming test, yet afraid of his refusal. Thus the company separated, committed to a meeting of the Gaman Kwai at the house of Noborinosuké, to hear the report of Aoyama Shu[u]zen's venture into the Bancho[u]. His preparations made, the next night, at the hour of the rat (11-1 A.M.), saw Aoyama in his turn climbing the slope of the Gomizaka. Attached to the immediate service of the palace, the place was very desolate and strange to him. At a loss where to look for the objects of his search he sauntered at random, attention drawn to footing in this darkness. Thus it was that the Gekkeiji bell sounded over the moorland, striking the first watch of the hour of the ox (3 A.M.). He stopped to listen his eye fixed at the time on the long line of wall and fine gate of a _besso[u]-yashiki_ (country villa), evidently of a great lord. He had passed from here some little distance, to the turning of the wall, when hasty steps and the hard breathing of one who had just breasted the hill struck his ear. Shu[u]zen standing at the corner was almost knocked down by the dark bulk which bounded out of the shadow. Both parties sprang back in attitude of watchfulness. Shu[u]zen had never seen such a fellow. At least seven feet in height, hairy of arms and legs and face, his eyes shone like bright mirrors. Bulging forth these made him like to the ghost of some huge dragon fly. Did he not have an eye in the middle of his forehead? Shu[u]zen could not have denied it. Of size to inspire fear, decidedly the rascal was to be suspected. Shu[u]zen was the first to question. "Who and where from? Answer at once, or this Aoyama deigns the death cut." The man, or monster, merely opened and shut the plate like eye holes. Then with a roaring derisive lip--"Ha! Ha! This is Tanuki-baké, come hither to find and fetch Aoyama." "Ya! Ya!" Aoyama was in a great rage. In the act of drawing his sword he would cut the rascal down. Thus to insult a _hatamoto_ of the land, lord of twelve hundred _koku_! "Make ready!" Apparition or not, at a bound the man was some ten feet off. Then followed a space, during which Shu[u]zen made every effort known to the fencing room. He would have impaled a real dragon fly more readily. Without attempt to flee the object merely darted hither and thither. Shu[u]zen was dripping with perspiration. He felt badly and discouraged. For a moment he would rest--"To see this Aoyama?" He grunted. "Just so," was the reply. "Fools at close quarters give entertainment. Aoyama is not the clever one to cut down the _tanuki-baké_ (badger-ghost). Get you hence to your quilts, good sir; to your fool companions who wear summer garb in depth of winter, and triple garments in the heats of the sixth and seventh months; stuff themselves with hot food and wine in summer, and freeze the viands and _saké_ in winter. Get you hence to your companions of the Gaman Kwai (Endurance Society). Make report to them of Aoyama's venture, and bray and brag to them of spending a night outside the sheets." Shu[u]zen strove to be calm on receipt of these insults to his kind. In haughty condescension he explained--"Those of the Gaman Kwai wear _katabira_ (light summer wear) in winter, triple gear in summer, to undergo the hardships of the battlefield. In war one regards not heat or cold. He drinks from the puddle on the field, and cooks the rice straw for food in his helmet. This is the great time of peace. The experiences and the hardships of the battlefield are lacking. It is as substitute for these...." He was interrupted by a mighty burst of impolite merriment from the heavy man, who held his sides as like to split from laughter. "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Naruhodo! These chitterlings; stuffed sausages! 'Sufferings of the battlefield; hardships'! They are not to encountered in such childish sport. He who would face these must practise the art of the inner belly (mind). It is by hardening the belly that the trials of war are met. You fellows practise but the outer cult. Of the inner and secret precepts you are ignorant. Degraded fools (_bakéyaro[u]_)!"--"Shut up!" roared Shu[u]zen. He could take the fellow at a disadvantage in his fit of outrageous merriment. Close to hand he leaped on him. In effort to avoid the blow the miscreant tumbled head over heels into the close deep waving _suzuki_ grass. With satisfaction Aoyama felt the sword sink deep into the resisting substance. Great his disgust to find that he had cleft an old and hidden stump to the very root. He seated himself upon it. At least he was in the centre of disturbance. Should he await further encounter, or depart elsewhere to find it. He had a mind to abandon the lanes and plunge into the waste land. Just then screams and cries were heard; the sound of rapid flying feet coming in his direction. A young woman in flight was now close at hand. Her hair unbound streamed behind her. She was in night clothes, and the knot of the narrow _obi_ or band come loose in her flight, exposed a figure all attraction. On reaching Aoyama she threw herself at his feet, clasping his knees. "Aid! Aid from the honoured _samurai_! Thieves breaking in threaten with death and pillage. Deign, honoured sir, to aid." Shu[u]zen was very willing to do so. The lady was very urgent and very beautiful. He himself was uncertain as to goal, and the matter of the ghost could wait on her extremity. To his inquiry she made reply--"Just yonder." With her he retraced his steps. To his surprise the gate of the _yashiki_, already noticed, was wide open. In all haste she urged him to the entrance, yet in his rapid passage he seemed to have seen this place before. The girl gave a call, then another. Shu[u]zen joined her in chorus and the search. The mansion was thrown wide open and abandoned. Not a soul was to be seen. All had either been killed, or had fled. The wailing of the girl brought him to her side. Prostrate she lay on the bodies of an old man and old woman, who had been put to death without mercy by the miscreants. Great was the pity of Aoyama. "The bodies still smoke in blood; the perpetrators cannot be far off. It would be well to seize them. This lantern ... how now? Is it of the house?" The girl raised her head to observe it. "No," she said. "The house lanterns have not the bow handle. This is of the thieves.... What's that?" A noise was heard above. Aoyama, hand on his sword, sprang to the stairway. The girl, all smiles at the prospective vengeance, followed him. Three fellows were busy at the closets and chests. The contents were scattered over the floor, evidently for purpose of selection. Aoyama burst upon them. "Heigh-ho! Vile rascals! Submit your necks at once to the blow, your arms to the cord." At first the pillagers were greatly astonished and put out. "A _samurai_! Our work is interfered with. Alas! We must away." Said the leader, a determined looking fellow--"Umph! 'Tis nothing but a board wages _samurai_ (_sampin_). He is alone. Kick him down. Teach him the lesson of interference." With yells all made for Shu[u]zen. Disregarding those at the side he delivered his blow at the man in front. Kiya! He split him in two as one would green bamboo. Shu[u]zen drew back with a side sweep which cut another clean across the girdle. He stopped to rub his eyes with amazement. Was it not witchcraft? Not three, but five men now confronted him; and lively rascals they were. Strive as he would Aoyama's blows seemed but to multiply his foes. He was but one man. A kick to this side sent a rascal flying to the wall; an elbow shot sent another through the screens. Then all took to flight. One closely pursued sought the roof, the drying frame its heights. Aoyama was about to cut him down, when the fellow sprang off into the darkness like a flying bird. At the same time came most urgent and piteous cries from below. "Danna Sama! Honoured _Samurai_ Sama! Deign rescue. The thieves! They force me to extremities." Reluctant Shu[u]zen turned back. On reaching the lower stair he came upon the rascals who were gathered round the girl. At sight of him all took to flight. To Shu[u]zen's astonishment the girl in her turn fled in pursuit. Out of the house rushed the whole band, Shu[u]zen joining in the mad race. Down the slope went all. Then dobun!... Shu[u]zen's foot caught in a hole, or root, or some obstacle. Head first he went into the ditch. Struggling, gasping, spitting out the dirty water of the drain, Aoyama scrambled up on the bank. He looked around in amazement. The white light of dawn illuminated the scene; the ill fated tree stump and the dirty drain close by. House there was none. Girl and thieves had disappeared. He stood on the moor, shivering in Nippon's always cool dawn and dripping wet with the filthy fluid of the ditch or stream flowing through these fields and the valley. With discomfiture he took his long way homewards to the Do[u]sanbashi. Plainly he had been bewitched and derided. So believing, he was startled to find himself again before the _yashiki_ gate; but in the light of day it showed the obvious neglect of years. Shu[u]zen at once sought entrance, not by the gate, but over the wall for lack of other means. He recognized the scene of last night's exploit, and its description as given by Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon. Besides, he recognized the place in his own experience of long past years, the favour and support of one to whom he was much indebted. Ah! Truly these were dangerous rascals he had encountered. CHAPTER IX SHU[U]ZEN MEETS SHU[U]ZEN Aoyama Shu[u]zen was not likely to brag of this exploit. All day he sat biting his thumbs, and drinking wine to obviate the effect of his nasty bath. An idea began to crystallize in his brain. But this matter pressed. The preparations for the night were to be made. He hoped for better luck in his vengeance on the miscreants. The watch of the rat again saw him skirting the Ushigafuchi on his way to the Bancho[u]. He had just started up the slope of the Gomizaka when he heard steps behind him. Oya! Oya! Two _chu[u]gen_ and a lady. About these there was nothing suspicious. But the lantern they carried? It was marked with the _mitsuba-aoi_, or triple leaf holly hock crest of the suzerain's House. Plainly the bearers were on mission from one of the San Ke (Princes of the Blood), or perhaps from the palace itself. Reverence must be done to the lantern. On his present mission, and thus arrayed, Aoyama sought to avoid notice. He disappeared into the long _suzuki_ grass at the road side. He could hear the lady express her anxiety and haste. Then with curiosity Aoyama watched their strange behavior. A bare sixty feet beyond they came to a halt. The lady shrank back as in terror. Haténa! Aoyama recognized him by his size, the antagonist and critic of the previous night. Without delay, or giving time for flight, the huge ruffian with one hand grasped the bosom of the lady's dress, with the other the arm of a _chu[u]gen_. A kick sent the other fellow very willingly to the ground. Tremendous was the apparition as he towered over his victims. He seemed taller than ever. His hair stood out like iron wire. His mouth grinned open wide from ear to ear; and now Aoyama could see distinctly the horns sprouting from his temples. Did he not have claws? Aoyama could not remember. He would rescue the lady, beautiful of course. Rapidly passing through the grass Aoyama burst out upon the group. He took aim at the knave's breast bone. "Yai!" The fellow let go. The two prisoners, thrust violently into the knees of Shu[u]zen, brought him to the ground. When he had recovered balance the rascal had disappeared. The lady was in a dead faint. One _chu[u]gen_ seemed to be dead. The other was squatting at some distance, eyes saucer like in fright. He regarded Aoyama with grave suspicion. The _samurai_ called to him. "Here you! Your mistress has fainted. Water at once!" But the fellow did nothing but answer "Hei! Hei!" without sign of motion. "Don't sit and purr like a cat," roared Shu[u]zen. "Off with you, and fetch water." At last the man took courage to approach. "Alas! Danna Sama, this Bancho[u], where the thieves are apparitions, and apparitions turn to women, frightens this Isuké."--"Fear or no fear, water must be had. Such milk livered fellows are not for man's work. Weakness of loins won't do. Off with you."--"But how?"--"In your scabbard, fool." For answer the _chu[u]gen_ made a wry face and tugged at his weapon. As often the case with those men, it was of wood. Shu[u]zen laughed. Then he gave his own scabbard to the _chu[u]gen_. Off the fellow crawled, with gait and speed of a maimed insect. Meanwhile what was to be done. Shu[u]zen put his hand into the bosom of the lady, and rummaged. Women were always dosing and fainting. Doubtless she was provided for such contingency. Surely a perfume reached his nostrils. Ah! Here it was. He drew out the fragrant package. Medicine without doubt. The drug savoured strongly of musk. At last the fellow was on hand with the liquid. Shu[u]zen made a pellet from the drug. "Raise up your mistress. Take her in your arms." But the man drew away in horror. He prostrated himself flat on the ground. "Deign forbearance. To touch with a finger one of the ladies of the palace is not to be ventured."--"Ah! Is that so?" grunted Shu[u]zen. "Circumstances of course don't alter cases. He who will not touch a woman is usually a most lecherous rascal." With this comment he roughly shoved aside the awkward efforts of this meticulous attendant. Taking the operation upon himself, he gently pressed the back of the lady's neck, forcing her to open her mouth. Inserting the drug he poured in water from the scabbard. A sudden slap on the back and down went the bolus. The lady opened and shut her eyes. Then they remained open. "Be firm," commented Aoyama Sensei. "Thanks," replied the dame. "Ah! What fright! With hand on dagger was this Bancho[u] entered on. So near, how suspect misfortune at hand? Truly honoured sir, great your trouble and inconvenience." Aoyama accepted the thanks, to satisfy curiosity. "But so late abroad ... and doubtless of the honoured San Ke...." Replied the lady--"The mission was of Kishu[u] Ke, said to be of grave import. Hence the late hour of the night. This insignificant person is lady in waiting at the San no Ma of the palace; Takigawa by name. The _yashiki_ of Okumura Shu[u]zen, my father, lies close at hand. Great the cowardice shown by this Taki." Shu[u]zen grasped the whole affair. Between Kishu[u] Ke and the parent House the feeling in those days was none too good. Grave suspicion on the part of one, angry resentment on that of the other. He would see more of the matter. It was his duty as _hatamoto_. "To go abroad with _chu[u]gen_ is no safe thing. At this hour and place _samurai_ could well have been taken as company. As for courage--of that kind it is not expected of a woman. Valour was shown in undertaking the mission. And this fellow...." He turned sharply to the _chu[u]gen_ and pointed to his fellow. "Mujina-také."--"What!" roared Shu[u]zen. He looked from _chu[u]gen_ to lady, and from lady to _chu[u]gen_. They seemed surprised. Stammered the man in fright--"It is but a nickname. His name is Také, and he is very worthless. Hence he is called Tanuki-také. I am called Yo[u]kai Isuké (Apparition Isuké), being nothing but wind." Aoyama grunted a ready assent to this self critic. The fellow's ignorance and cowardice was as gross as the material flesh which Shu[u]zen tested with a well applied kick in the buttocks, bringing Isuké in position to render first aid to his companion. This was done by passing on the application. A vigorous snort followed the thump on the back administered to Mujina. He sat up and regarded his mate with astonishment. "Ah! The Yo[u]kai.... No more of that. 'Tis Mujina's turn." This, when his fellow proposed a second application. The return came sooner than anticipated. A terrific sneeze followed. Up came his head sharply, and the _yo[u]kai_ rolled over backwards on the ground. He rose in fury, holding his jaw. Shu[u]zen was laughing, the lady smiling. "The distance is but short? Plainly those fellows are next to worthless. This Shu[u]zen will act as guard." Thus did Aoyama go in company to the _yashiki_ of Okumura Shu[u]zen; and thus was his second night's venture brought to naught. The arrival of the Ojo[u]sama (lady daughter) in company with Aoyama caused much excitement. Okumura was of five hundred _koku_; Aoyama of twelve hundred _koku_. The latter was at once ushered to the inner apartments. The lady wife of Okumura came forward to urge his stay for some entertainment. Aoyama in turn was curious to know more of this mission in connection with a _hatamoto_ like himself. He spoke gravely of the dangers in this neighbourhood, apart from the strange tales told. Okumura Shu[u]zen heartily agreed. The charge being to Kishu[u] Ke was not to be declined. Himself he had many strange tales to relate. Though the hour was late, every effort was made. Aoyama Shu[u]zen was gratified with a beautiful repast. The wine was served in person by Takigawa Dono. The talk passed from personal affairs to tales of war. Here Aoyama was in his element, both from experience and the tales of others heard in the _hiban_ and at the meetings of the Gaman Kwai. This was a first meeting, not to be too long drawn out. Okumura was a new comer in the Bancho[u], his service was in connection with the public works. Aoyama had been of the palace staff until very recently. Both expressed deepest gratification at their encounter. As he took his way home in the morning light, Aoyama Shu[u]zen could but contrast with pleasure his present arrival with that of the previous morning. He had feasted well, and made an acquaintance of some value. The following day he would make his acknowledgments. Aping no great style he walked accompanied by a page and two _chu[u]gen_. Inquiry soon brought him to the _yashiki_. Inquiry soon introduced him to a sitting room. "Lucky fellow!" thought Aoyama. "The influence of Matsudaira Ko[u] lands him in affluence. A modest income; a double _yashiki_!" This part of the house was different from that of his last night's introduction. Then he stated his business to the _karo[u]_. The night before he had accompanied the Ojo[u]san to the _yashiki_. He would make acknowledgment of the courtesy then received. The face of old Beita Heima was a puzzle. Deep the respect due to twelve hundred _koku_ Aoyama, but had he been drunk or dreaming?--"Has not your lordship mistaken the _yashiki_?" Aoyama was a little severe at what seemed gratuitous assumption. "You were not on the guard last night." Beita spoke, prostrate and with great respect, but with an earnestness and obstinacy not to be mistaken. He had been on the guard--from sunset to dawn. Aoyama began to feel uncomfortable. Veiling the sharpness--"Is this not the _yashiki_ of Okumura Dono?" Heima gulped assent. "Is not Takigawa Dono, of the San no Ma, the Ojo[u]san of the House?" Here Heima was on sure ground. "Ojo[u]san of the House there is none. It is very rude; but surely there is mistake as to the _yashiki_." Aoyama now was beginning to see light. He felt very hot and uncomfortable. He ventured a last question for surety. "And Okumura Dono?"--"The Tono Sama absent in Shimosa, the _yashiki_ has been in this Heima's charge for this past month's course." With such grace as he could in his discomfiture Aoyama Shu[u]zen took his leave. The astonished page and _chu[u]gen_, still retaining the intended presents of acknowledgment, with difficulty kept up with their master. Ah! The beasts again had scored. Detestable! Shu[u]zen thought with horror of his repast of the previous night. He had no better fare than Rokuzo the _chu[u]gen_. In rage he sought his room, and swallowed all the purges and emetics to hand. Occupied in retching, and thinking, and other matters germane to his condition, he concocted the plan by which he hoped to bring the foe to book, and himself to the presiding chair which surely he had earned. CHAPTER X THE MEETING OF THE GAMAN KWAI With the fall of O[u]saka castle (1615), and the culmination of the uneasy movements of the years following in the conspiracy of Honda Masazumi, the country entered on a long peace--the Tokugawa Taihei. The Arima rebellion after all was but an affair of farming folk, in far off Kyu[u]shu[u]. Masazumi struck right at the person of the Sho[u]gun himself. A special ceiling was constructed in his castle at Utsunomiya. This was to collapse on the sleeping Iyemitsu Ko[u] sheltered beneath it. Caught between the heavy boulders above and beneath the couch, the Sho[u]gun was to be sent to rest with, not worship of, his divinized grandfather at Nikko[u]. Iyemitsu slept the night at Edo castle, owing to the valour and strength of Ishikawa Hachiémon. Masazumi had failed, and the set field of battle between the factions of the _samurai_ was a thing of the past. The duel, forbidden in theory and compulsory in practice, was to take its place. The substitute always had existed. It tried men's courage, not the sustained endurance of campaigning. How then was the old spirit of the warrior to be maintained? The desire to emulate their sires worked on the younger generation. The relics of the Tensho[u], Keicho[u] and Genwa periods (1573-1623) O[u]kubo Hikozaémon, Matsudaira Montaro[u], Nagasaki Chiyari Kuro[u], were heroes who could boast of having stood before the horse of Iyeyasu in his earlier trials of battles, trials in which the veteran commander would pound with his fist the pommel of the saddle until it was red with the blood from his bruised knuckles. Their tales of actual war, the sly jeers at the softening manners, spurred on younger members to find ways by which to simulate practical experience of campaigning. The result was curious. One of the organizations was the Undameshi Kwai, or Fortune Testing Society. Loaded firelocks were stacked in the middle of the room of meeting. Around them sat the members of the club, squeezed into full armour, from helmet to the warriors shoes of skin. The match was set. The weapons were exploded, sending a shower of balls in every direction. "Ah! Ha! The bullet grazed my helmet."--"The gorgelet caught it."--"The corselet has saved me."--"Congratulations are in order. Surely your pension will be increased during the year."--"Oya! Oya! And Genzaémon Uji?" The unfortunate Genzaémon had not fared so well in the mimic war. At all events he sat the meeting out--if he could. To be reported dead, in the course of duty; or be overcome with regrets at showing such clumsiness in being wounded; or, if actually incapacitated, to go home and die of "illness" (cut belly).[9] The Gaman Kwai, or Endurance Society, was another form the movement took. In the season of great cold its meetings were held as if in the height of the _doyo[u]_ or dog days; vice-versa with the time of great heat. It was the beginning of the seventh month (first half of August). The heat was intense, and had been for the past weeks. The farmer watched the steamy vapour rising from the rice fields and rejoiced. The plants were growing luxuriantly, the leaves of the willow trees were hanging yellow and wilted. Passers by on city or village streets sought the shade under the buildings, walking with languid lagging step, and, home once reached, removing every garment which etiquette--not decency--had hitherto compelled. Great was the dismay of the weaker members of the Gaman Kwai on receipt of a circular letter couched much as follows: "In this season of great cold the continuance of the honoured health is observed with joy. On the seventeenth day it is desired to make offering of a cup of indifferent wine. It is begged that the use of the honoured _kago_ (palanquin) be condescended. This the purport of the missive. With reverence and respect. KONDO[U] NOBORINOSUKÉ. To...." The weaker allowed this missive to float gently and despairingly earthwards. Gasping for breath in the stifling heat they sought to fan themselves into a semi consciousness. "Terrific! Terrific! Yet refusal is out of the question. Ah! This Kondo[u] is a doubtful sort of rascal. He is of the cruel kind. No mercy is to be expected of him. Yet if one fails to attend there will be but jeers and taunts of cowardice. One could not appear in public. Alas! Alas!" The stronger received it with equal impatience, but with the purpose to put in the evil hours with the best possible face, and score on the host--if they could. All left strict orders at home for a cold bath to be in readiness for the return. To this rash step the weaker groaned and yielded. The Nipponese fear and detest cold water--even for drink. Thus they sallied forth--from Ichigaya to Honjo[u] Kameidocho[u], from Shitaya to Shinagawa; some on horseback, some in _kago_; all arrayed in triple set of thickly wadded winter garments, in _hakama_, or trousers with double folds, in shirts and leggings, and fur shoes of the warrior on winter campaign. The gate keeper of the _yashiki_ in Owaricho[u] called their names on arrival--"O[u]kubo Hikoroku Dono, Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon Dono, Abé Shiro[u]goro[u] Dono, Matsudaira Montaro[u] Dono, O[u]kubo Shichinosuké Dono, Mizuno Juro[u]zaémon Dono, Ishikawa Hachiémon Dono,[10] Okumura Shu[u]zen Dono, Kusé Sanshichiro[u] Dono, Aoyama Shu[u]zen Dono...." The list was a long one. One and all were met by Kondo[u] Noborinosuké in person at the entrance. Over his triple winter garb he wore a wadded coat or _kosodé_. Others had donned the longer _kataginu_. These were of the weaker kind. It did not fit so closely; pressed the warmth of its tissue less lovingly to the person. All complained of the intense cold. "Never was such cold felt," blandly agreed Noborinosuké. "An old fellow of the gardeners says that for sixty years such cold has not been experienced. It is a marvellous cold year. The ground will not be thawed this season. Deign to enter. Warmth is provided against this intensity of cold." And his hearers bowed and offered thanks, as well as their unwieldy wrappings would allow. At all events in the room yonder there would be the breeze from the garden side. They knew the place and its delights. Kondo[u] was of the age to provide himself with quiet comforts. With eager stride the banquet room was sought. "Oya! Oya!" The speaker gasped in dismay and for breath. They had been introduced into a furnace. Explained Kondo[u] gently--"Everything has been done to shut out the intense cold. The _amado_ are tight closed, the braziers well supplied.... Heigh-ho! Allow none of these to get dark. More charcoal! More fuel!" The attendants obeyed, urging the fires before each guest. Seated close together to conserve the heat, the sweat poured off in streams. Unable to get breath some groaned and grunted--to pass it off as due to the intensity of cold. Soon they "would be thawed out with the genial warmth." Kondo[u] and Aoyama were immensely pleased in their assent and at their sufferings. But the more discontented sought the fly in the ointment of the content of their hosts. Aoyama really was such. He was the one responsible for the call; Kondo[u] his ready abettor. Said one--"Intense the cold, yet how explain the freaks of Nature. If it were not so freezing the blue clusters hanging in Kondo[u] Dono's garden, just traversed, could well pass for wisteria." They laughed at him--"Wisteria in the seventh month? That would be as great a marvel as the cold."--"Not so the grape," replied another. "Kondo[u] Uji long since promised sight of the new plant. To be sure the barbarian fruits are as ill trained and uncouth as the denizens of the land they grow in. They flower and fruit in winter season. If not wisteria the clusters must be of the grape."--"Not so," promptly put in Aoyama. "Truly it is the green eye of jealousy which colours the vision. They are icicles; and no seasoning for the repast or the conversation of this cold occasion."--"Which brings the sweat to the face of Aoyama Uji." Aoyama turned calmly on the rash interloper. "It is not sweat; 'tis mucous. The intense cold causes flow of mucous. Are not others so affected?" He looked around grimly on the steaming shining faces before him. "Mucous?" questioned a doubter. "Yes: face mucous," was the calm rejoinder. All turned to Kondo[u] Noborinosuké who would explain the more particular purport of the meeting. There was report to make, a new member to introduce. All turned with respect and salutation to Okumura Shu[u]zen. It was a long and painful ceremony in the bulky winter garb. But they were in relays, took turns. Ah! If it was but Aoyama, thus long bent double, murmuring apology and compliment. Then Aoyama Shu[u]zen made his report. He made it as one sure to please his hearers, many of whom regarded him with no particular liking. In fact at the tale of his discomfiture there was some joy, and tendency to show it. "Then, as with us, Aoyama Uji meets Okumura Dono for the first time." Aoyama nodded an amused assent. Said one more malicious, "And the repast? Surely the _hatamoto_ was as well entertained as the _chu[u]gen_?" Shu[u]zen skilfully dodged the issue. "The hour was very late. Such could hardly be expected or offered to this Shu[u]zen without raising doubts. Fortunately it was thus." Said one more persistent--"At least a cup of wine...."--"Without fire or heating? More than rude the implication!"--"Yet beasts know but little of etiquette; and if fox or badger...." Kondo[u] Noborinosuké came in with--"That shall be at once determined. It is time for the repast. The _tanuki_ killed by Aoyama Uji furnishes the soup." At a sign the retainers brought the beast in his own skin. All rose in marvel at the sight. Truly it was a huge fellow. "An old rascal, too. See! The hair on the back is of different colour from that on the rest of the body."--"Showing the great age and wickedness. Many are those he has gulled to their destruction. Now in turn he furnishes forth the repast." Said Kondo[u]--"How did Aoyama Uji secure the beast." "This Shu[u]zen was much put out. Plainly by no ordinary means could these miscreants be eliminated. How meet them in true shape? Against the usual weapons they were secure in their transformations. Only the flying bullet could reach such mark; and the discharge of a gun in Edo town means banishment at the least. Then an idea came to Shu[u]zen. At the hour of the ox again the Bancho[u] was sought. Position of great dejection and weariness was taken, on a stone amid its greatest desolation. The wait was not long. Unexpectedly the sound of a gunshot was heard. This was surprising, for the reasons given. Hardly believing in an apparition, thinking it rather due to some rascally outlaw, his coming was awaited. Slouching along appeared a man in hunter's garb. He carried a fowling piece, and evidently was the criminal. Taught however by past events this Shu[u]zen took no action. Merely hailing him, his purpose and game was inquired. He was ready in answer as to both. Yonder on Matsuyama harboured a huge and dangerous boar. It was this boar he sought. Kindly he gave warning, and advised return to safer quarters. On my part great enthusiasm was expressed for the sport; his company was sought. At this he jeered; then denied attendance as lacking a gun. 'Not so,' quoth I. With these words the punk carried in the hand was touched to the fuse of the fire crackers concealed at one side. 'Kiya!' So startled was he that his gun fell to the ground and he took his proper shape. At once this Shu[u]zen in the act of drawing cut him into two parts. Thus he died. Awaiting dawn another beast appeared, this time in true form. Approaching the prostrate body it wept and wailed. This too 'twas sought to slay, but the beast had the advantage of being forewarned. For the time it has escaped. Meanwhile, returning from its pursuit, was found an admiring crowd of plebeians gathered round the slaughtered _tanuki_. The priest for his exorcisms took cash; the _samurai_ were the ones to act. Their joy and wonder was turned to good account. Under penalty of sharing the fate of the beast two of them shouldered it to the _yashiki_. Such the tale of Shu[u]zen. And now for the results!" Kondo[u] gave a sign, and the gaping wonder of the assembly at the deed was stifled in the wave of heat which poured in from the neighbouring room. "Ah! Truly these are cruel fellows!" Here a furnace had been erected for the cooking of the _tanuki_. It sent its streams of hot air into the already crowded and stifling room. Aoyama in person supervised the cooking. The animal was cut into small portions. Smoking hot the viands were placed under the noses of the gasping guests. With the great age of the beast it had accumulated great toughness. The younger members had the consolation of their jibes at the old fellows. They tore at, struggled with, the leathery fragments. But the latter had no teeth, and the malicious Aoyama would see to it that it stuck in their throats. "How, now, ancients? Is not the meat of this _tanuki_ tender beyond measure? Truly one cannot call this engaging in the practice of war; to enjoy such a delightful mess."--"Just so," grunted Montaro[u]. "One can then eat the knobs off one's helmet. The flesh of this fellow is so tender it sticks in one's throat, as unwilling to allow it passage.... G'up! G'up! G'up!" Said another--"The wine thus steaming hot, the viands sizzling, truly the feed is most beneficial. One even sweats in this intensity of cold."--"Of course," was the matter of fact reply of the wise. "Thus does the heat of spring thaw out the cold ground into a perspiration; thus does the frozen body burst into a sweat with the hot food and drink." All accepted the explanation without argument. They were in haste to end this meeting, even at cost of swallowing whole the _tanuki_ and Aoyama Shu[u]zen with it. Despite the prospect of attendance at his _yashiki_ all rapturously agreed. Aoyama was an original. He would not repeat the experiment of Kondo[u]. They had nearly a six month's respite before them. With this the entertainment was brought to a close. In almost unceremonious haste the guests took their leave, fairly galloping out of the entrance, hanging out of the _kago_ or over the horse's neck, urging attendants to full speed homeward. Here the stifling garments were torn off, the plunge into the cold tub followed; and many paid for this rashness with an illness of days. Meanwhile Aoyama Shu[u]zen had learned one important fact. Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon in application for the _bakémono yashiki_ had met with flat refusal. The field was open to himself. Moreover he had said nothing of the fact that, in the exercise of his new office as magistrate for the apprehension of thieves and fire-bugs, he was in fair way to suppress forever and in great torments the Mujina-baké and his fellows, residuary legatees of the prowess and field of action of the late So[u]ja Mushuku. END OF PART I PART II THE BANCHO[U] SARAYASHIKI OR THE LADY OF THE PLATES WHAT AOYAMA SHU[U]ZEN BECAME. CHAPTER XI THE YOSHIDA GOTEN When Prince Iyeyasu consolidated his power at Edo, more particularly on his becoming Sei-i-tai-Sho[u]gun, some provision had to be made for the great _daimyo[u]_ brought by the necessities of occasion to personal interview with their chief and suzerain. In the suburbs rose beautiful structures devoted to the entertainment of these _kyakubun_--or guests--as the greater _daimyo[u]_ were then termed. The Yatsuyama Goten, the Hakuzan Goten, the Kosugé Goten, the Yoshida Goten, other and elegant, if minor, palaces arose. Their first use disappeared with the compulsory residence of the _daimyo[u]_ under Iyemitsu Ko[u], but some were still maintained as places of resort and entertainment for the Sho[u]gun in his more relaxed moments. Others were devoted to the residences of favoured members of his family. Others were maintained for the entertainment of State or Church dignitaries, on occasion of particular mission from the court in Kyo[u]to to that of Edo. Others were destroyed, or put to temporal uses, or their use granted to favoured retainers or church purposes. One of the most beautiful of these was the Yoshida Goten in the Bancho[u]. The site originally had been covered by the _yashiki_ of Yoshida Daizen no Suké. One of those nobles favouring the Tokugawa against Ishida Mitsunari, as their designs became clearer with the years following Sekigahara, at the attack on Osaka castle he was found within its walls. Thus the "Overseer of the kitchen" fell under the wrath of his suzerain. Hidétada Ko[u] was a man of much kind temperament, but he was a strict disciplinarian and a rough soldier. Whether or not the dishes furnished for his consumption and digestion had anything to do with the matter, there was serious cause enough. With many others the Daizen no Suké was ordered to cut belly, and his tribe suffered extinction--of rank and rations (_kaieki_). Such the reward of this turn-coat. His disappearance from the scene was followed by other removals. Daizen no Suké was head of the Ko[u]sho[u]gumi. With the confiscation of his _yashiki_ site five other Houses of the "company" were ordered to remove to other sites at Akasaka. Thus 2,500 _tsubo_ of ground (24 acres) were obtained for the building of a new _kyakubun goten_. Erected on the ground of Yoshida's old mansion, now waste ([sara]), it got the name of Sarayashiki. Time confused this character [sara] with the events which there took place; and it was written Sara ([sara]) yashiki or Mansion of the Plates. Thus was the unhappy tale of O'Kiku written into the history of Edo and the Yoshida Goten. The second daughter of Hidédata Ko[u], the Nidai Sho[u]gun, had been married to the lord of Echizen, Matsudaira Tadanao. At the time of the Osaka campaign Tadanao sulked. Prince Iyeyasu was very angry with him. However, when finally Echizen Ke did appear, he acted with such bravery, and to such effect in the campaign, that the old captain's anger was dispelled in his appreciation. To this connected House of the Tokugawa he thought to be liberal enough; not to meet the inflated scale of the ideas of Tadanao, who spent the next half dozen years in so misgoverning his lordly fief as to render necessary an adviser, planted at his side by his powerful cousin in Edo. In Genwa ninth year Tadanao rebelled--with the usual result to him who acts too late. He was suppressed, largely by the aid of his own vassals, and exiled to Hita in Bungo province. Here he shaved his head, took the name of Ichihaku. It was of no avail. Promptly he died. It seemed to be a dispensation of Providence--or dispensation of some kind--that exiles usually and early developed alarming symptoms; in the shortest possible time removing themselves and all cause of irritation to the overlord by their transfer to another sphere. The Tokugawa Sho[u]gun was generous to his relations. The exit of Tadanao was promptly followed by the induction of his infant son Mitsunaga into his fief. However, for the child to govern the great district of 750,000 _koku_ appeared to be a doubtful step. Its government actually being invested in the _daimyo[u]_, it was not to be made a breeding ground for trouble through the action of subordinates. Hence the main fief with the seat at Kita no Sho[u] (Fukui) was given to the uncle. Fukui to-day is a dull provincial town, and excellent stopping place for those who would have eyes opened as to the great wealth and wide flat expanse of these three provinces of Kaga, Etchu[u], and Echizen. Their lord was a mighty chieftain, entrenched behind mountain barriers; and the great campaigns, which figure in pre-Tokugawa history, were fought for a great object. The Maéda House, however, had had their wings clipped, and were confined to Kaga. The Matsudaira were established in Echizen. Etchu[u] was much divided up. The reduction of the fief of Echizen Ke to 500,000 _koku_ brought him within reasonable bounds, and he could well be left to ride with his hawks along the pretty Ashibagawa, or to take his pleasure outing on the crest of Asuwayama, the holy place of the city suburbs, and where Hidéyoshi nearly lost life and an umbrella by a stray shot. Then would follow the return, the ride across the wide moat, its waters dotted with the fowl he went elsewhere to shoot, but safe within these precincts. Whether he returned to any better entertainment than that of the present day Tsuki-mi-ro or Moon viewing inn, one can doubt. He certainly did not have the pretty outlook from its river bordered garden front. Sen-chiyo-maru, later Mitsunaga, was relegated to Takata castle in Echigo, with the minor income of 250,000 _koku_. Perhaps this fact, together with his youth, and the more entertaining expenditure of the income at an Edo _yashiki_, rather than in a mountain castle town, brought the Takata no Kata to the capital. Takata Dono, or the Takata no Kata, so named from the fief, is not known to fame or history under other appellation. She is said to have possessed all the beauty of her elder sister, the Senhimégimi, wife of Hidéyori Ko[u], son of the Taiko[u], he who fell at Osaka castle. Furthermore, with the training of the _samurai_ woman, the greatness of her position and personal attraction, she possessed all the obstinacy and energy of the male members of her family, with few of the restraints imposed on them by public service. Takata Dono frankly threw herself into all the pleasures she could find at the capital. Established in the Yoshida Goten, the younger _samurai_ of the _hatamoto_ quickly came under her influence. There was a taint of license in her blood, perhaps inherited from the father who was most unbridled in his passions. The result was a sad falling off from the precepts of Bushido[u] in herself and her paramours. The Bakufu (Sho[u]gunal Government) was compelled to look on, so great was her power at the castle. In the earlier days sentence of _seppuku_ (cut belly) was a common reward for open misconduct. A word from Takata Dono, and the disgraceful quarrels over her favours were perforce condoned; and her lavish expenditures on her favourites were promptly met. Alas! Alas! The up to date histories of Nippon sigh over and salve these matters. "They were the inventions of a later age; were not current in her life-time." Nor likely to be put too bluntly by those tender of their skins. But an old poem has come down to express the popular belief: "_Yoshida to[u]reba nikai kara maneku; Shikamo kano ko no furisode de._" Somewhat irregular, like the lady's conduct, but which can be interpreted, "Passing Yoshida, from above the signal; Furthermore, the waving of long sleeves." Of little deer (or dears) for the style of sleeve, the _kano ko_, can be read young deer. Bah! Was there not a "parc aux cerfs" half way round the world? Nor were such confined to the capital cities of Edo and Paris.[11] The poem refers to the unbridled licentiousness the little lady developed on her translation from her provincial residence; though locally she had not failed to distinguish herself. What follows is part of the tales current. At the time the _himégimi_ (princess) was thrown on her own devices in Takata-jo[u] the _karo[u]_ or chief officer of the household was one Hanai Iki. This fellow owed his position entirely to his good looks and her ladyship's favour. This favour he met, not in the spirit of a loyal vassal, but in that of a professed and bold lady killer. As _karo[u]_ his attendance on her ladyship was constant and intimate, and it took no particular acumen to find out that the intimacy was of a more peculiar relation. Hence great was the under current of comment, and regret at the unbridled conduct of the lady. None, however, dared to interfere with the caprices of one so highly placed; and the only means was to work on the decent feelings of Iki himself. Thus the tale was brought to his wife's ears. It is to be said that with her all jealousy was suppressed. It was for her to find the cure for her husband's unbridled conduct. As Hanai Iki was a mere official, and with no great claim to unusual or able services, it was hoped that his removal or reform in conduct would bring back the _himégimi_ to a befitting conduct. There was no suspicion that her passion was a disease raging in her very blood, and that it was the man, not his personality she sought. The wife first adopted the orthodox method of formal remonstrance. Without chiding, with a smile and great indulgence of one at no particular fault himself, she enlarged upon the subject in the service of the tea. "It is not a matter between Iki Dono and this Chiyo. There is no unseemly jealousy in the wife to bring forward the complaint. In fact the marital relation is not in question. As the husband pleases, so should the wife submit. But great is the talk aroused at these too private meetings with the _himégimi_. It is the House which is at stake. Its influence and prestige is threatened by a mere retainer. This in a short time can but lead to ruin. The caprice of a woman is well known. In some cooler moment the eyes of her ladyship will see another colour. The one to suffer will be Iki Dono, for now he has no other support but in his mistress. Deign to regain the confidence of the household, and no great harm can result beyond neglect. Honoured sir, you stretch out for what is far beyond reach; and in the end can but fail. Deign to be circumspect." If there was any tone of contempt and depreciation in the protest it was in the last few words. At all events the eyes of Iki were opened to the fact that it was sought to reach him through the wife's remonstrance. He expressed surprise and discomfiture at what he asserted had no real basis in fact. His office brought him in close contact with her ladyship; the more so as the management of the fief was in her hands. Matters were to be discussed which necessitated the exclusion of all others. However, if such was the talk of the palace, or even beyond its walls, he could but give thanks for the kindness of the remonstrance. Henceforth he would be more careful, and would trust to her good feeling to believe in his good faith. With joy the wife heard what he said. With all good will she made herself the apostle of this explanation. No one believed her and facts soon belied words. Her ladyship, just entering on her passion, became more exigent in her calls for the _karo[u]'s_ attendance. Iki now seldom appeared at his home. Long absences from the castle town, pressing business, any excuse to hand came to the alarmed ears of the wife. All the rumours gathered were sure to reach her in exaggerated form. Hanai Dono was the constant companion of her ladyship's wine feasts. He was her acknowledged paramour, and lived in the private apartments of the castle as in his own house. All talked--except the ladies in waiting of the _himégimi_. These were selected and trained by her; selected for beauty and trained to discretion. She would have no ugly thing about her; and all was to be for her use. Iki was handsome, and discreet. To her he was an object; as were the maids; the same apart from sex. He filled his rôle admirably, never introduced his favour with her ladyship into the public affairs of the House, or solicited for such personal advancement as made toward outward display. But circumspection of conduct never yet closed the mouth of gossip. There were those who were jealous of what he might do; and jealous of a favour they would gladly share themselves. The _himégimi_ was the prize which all coveted, and which no one should possess to the exclusion of others. Hence the buzz of talk rose loud, and the criticism stung the wife. She determined herself to learn the truth of these tales. Hitherto they were but the scandalous talk of people. Wife of the _karo[u]_, naturally her ladyship did not require her attendance; but as such she had ready access and an intimate acquaintance with the palace routine. Her mind made up, she presented herself on some trifling pretext. Certainly in her manner there was nothing to arouse comment. Received in the inner apartments (_oku_), her plea, the introduction of a page into the service, was readily granted. On retiring she would speak with the superintendent of the _oku_, the old and experienced lady in waiting in charge of the _himégimi's_ service. Thus she found the opportunity to wander the inner precincts, to disappear and to slip into the bed room of the _himégimi_. Here she stepped into a closet, pulled to the screen, and crouched down behind the heaped up quilts. For the companionship of her wandering lord she did not have long to wait; nor for proof of his inconstancy. Iki came into the room, holding by the hand and drawing after him one of palace ladies in waiting, Takeo by name. The girl was by no means unwilling. Her blushes and confusion added to the great beauty which made her the favoured attendant on the _himégimi_. Iki pressed her close and openly. The girl plead ignorance and inexperience. She was ashamed. Iki laughed. "Does not her ladyship set the example for others to follow? Deign...." The plea of his relations with the mistress came quite fit to the coarse feeling of Iki. Not so to the girl, who was warmed into some indignation, and drew all the more from him. He would persist; but just then her ladyship called from the next room--"Takeo! Takeo!" The voice was impatient, as of one in haste. Iki had time to thrust a letter into the girl's hand, which she quickly transferred to her bosom. All the boldness of O'Chiyo was at stake as the maid came to the closet. Close down she crouched; but Takeo had one eye on Iki, and only one careless eye on the heap of _futon_, of which she drew from the top. Iki made a grimace, for the benefit of the one he really loved. Her ladyship's appearance was received with the warm and flattering affection of the favoured lover; and O'Chiyo had proof positive that the relations of the two were kind indeed. The suicide of the wife, the letter of protest she left behind, had more influence on the public than on the conduct of Hanai Iki. It simply removed the last restraint and means of reaching him. All now depended on her ladyship's infatuation. Old vassals sighed with joy when they heard of the proposed removal to Edo. As _karo[u]_ Hanai Iki would be left in charge of the fief. Not so: it was soon learned that his name headed the list of those transferred for household service. The grumbling was as open as it dared to be. The fief was to be contented with the service of two vice-_karo[u]_; no great loss, except in matter of prestige in dealing with other Houses. The _karo[u]_ became a kind of male superintendent of the _oku_! But at all events the fief was rid of him. Nor was Iki particularly pleased. He had been feathering his nest in the material sense. The severance of the connection, without loss of esteem, meant to him a quicker consummation of his wishes with Takeo Dono, whom he would ask for as wife. Their relations had gone forward at a wild pace. Once thrown into the whirl of passion Takeo sought but to meet the wishes of her lover. The passion of the _himégimi_ stood between them. Established in Edo, at the Yoshida Goten, all went mad with content in their beautiful surroundings. The palace gardens were noted. A hint of the fine construction of the buildings is found to-day at the Kugyo[u]ji of Iinuma, built subsequently from the materials. For the use of the Sho[u]gun Ke in entertainment of his visitors, every art had been exhausted in its adornment. The screens were objects of beauty, and separated the large rooms with their fine pillars and ceilings of grained and polished woods. The _rama-sho[u]ji_ were carved by Nature's handiwork, and the polished lacquer and brass reflected a thousand times the beauties roundabout. Whether the garden be viewed from the apartments, or both from the _tsukiyama_ or artificial hill beside the little lake, it was a scene of balanced beauty, showing every nicety of man's hand in Nature's own proportion, and not guided into the geometrical designs of a carpet square or a surveyor's working table. Instead of the dry dullness of a provincial town, in which themselves they had to fill the stage to give it life and pompousness, Edo was close at hand, and they were part of, and actors in, the luxury and magnificence of the Sho[u]gun's court. It is not surprising that the _himégimi_ returned to all this glitter and activity as one long banished from its seductions to a wilderness; added her own dissipation and lavish entertainment to the constant round of festivity and luxury rapidly supplanting the hard military discipline of the first Sho[u]gun's camp; a luxury itself to crystallize into a gorgeous rigid formalism, as deadly to the one not meeting its requirements as the lined and spotted beauty of some poisonous serpent. The wine feast was at its height. The cup passed more freely in this chilly season of the year; and in the tightly closed apartments the warmth of association and the table's cheer were sought. The _himégimi_ was more expansive than usual under the influence of the wine. Iki was positively drunk, and in his state over-estimated the condition of her ladyship. Takeo was serving the wine. Beyond stolen interviews of moments the lovers had found no opportunity for the longed for clinging of soul to soul, of person to person, during the night's long hours. The girl's hands trembled with passion as furtively she sought those of her lover in the passing of the wine cup. Iki was absolutely careless. Her ladyship too far gone to note his conduct? He seized the arms of Takeo and drew her to his side. The display of amorous emotion on the part of both was too open to escape notice. The _himégimi_ rose to her feet as on springs. The beautiful flushed face took on a deeper tint as she scowled on the guilty and now frightened pair. Her breath came hard and with difficulty. Then reaching down she wound the long tresses of Takeo in her hand, and dragged her to her knee. Twisting and twisting, until the agony made the girl cry out, she berated her--"Ah! Wicked jade! Thou too have eyes for a man's person. Disloyal wench, would you aim to make the beloved of your mistress partner of your bed?... What's this?" From the girl's hand she tore the answer to the lover's plaint. The sharp eyes of her ladyship sought the maid's person. A nervous hand fumbled the folds of her _obi_ (sash). "Ah! The treasure house is not far off. Such valued gems are carried on the person." Thrusting her hand into the gentle bosom the _himégimi_ drew forth the guilty complement. Wrote Iki-- "How act to drop the mask; Many the pledges breathed in truth." And the girl made answer: "Ah! The night of meeting, love's consummation; The hindrance, thing or person, object of hate."[12] The words were too plain. There was a certain savage tone of exulting wrath as the _himégimi_ read out loud the contents of the missives. It chilled the hearts of those who heard her. She spoke: at first in low concentrated tones of bitter jesting hate. "Ha! Ha! Disloyalty goes beyond mere thought; would strike at the person of its lord. What lascivious slut is this, who thus would creep into the mistress' bed, to take her place?... Look up! Naruhodo! In that face is too much beauty. Vile huzzy, you would seek the favour of my lover. Hence forth neither he nor any man shall look on you, except with loathing." Close beside her was the _hibachi_, its burden of the hard burning charcoal from Ikéda now a bright cherry red. Dragging the girl to the brazier, twisting both hands more firmly in the long black hair, she forced her, face downwards, into the heated mass, pressing into the back with her knee. In terror the other girls looked away, or hid their faces in their sleeves. Before the towering anger of the princess none dared apology or intercession. The smell of burning flesh rose sickening. Takeo feebly moaned, and writhed a little under the nervous pressure of those delicate powerful hands. Then she was silent. The inhuman punishment had reached its end. Roughly her ladyship threw her aside, face upward on the _tatami_. Those who took a hasty glance turned away in horror from the face, black here, red and swollen there, the mouth filled with ashes, the eyes--one totally destroyed. The _himégimi_ was on her feet. "Iki--here with you!" In fear the man prostrated himself before the vision. "Not yet did the demon's horns sprout from her head; but the eyes injected with blood, the hair standing up to Heaven, converted her ladyship into a veritable demon." In slow and measured wrath she spoke--"Ah, the fool! Admitted to the favour of his mistress, the long continued object of her affection, with all at his command and service, he would sacrifice these for the embraces of a serving wench. Truly the man has gone mad with lust; or rather it is a man's face and a beast's mind. Thus before my very eyes he would dally with his whore and make me cuckold. Of such miscreants one feels no jealousy. Hate and punishment follow the insult." A quick movement backward and her halberd hanging at the wall was in her hand. The scabbard stripped from the shining blade was held over head. "Namu San! Holy the three sacred things!" Iki sprang to his feet, coward and fool he sought not to grapple with her, but to flee. The command of the _himégimi_ rang sharp--"He is not to escape!" In this company of her maids, all _samurai_ women, the discipline was complete. If they would not suffer the punishment of Takeo, they must respond. Whatever the backbiting and division among themselves, in her ladyship's service they would sacrifice life itself. Besides, more than one hated Iki with the heart-whole hate of neglected love and advances. Takeo had been more favoured than her companions, not through any fault of theirs in seeking this lady killer. Hence the alarm was quickly given. Iki was beset by this female army, every one armed, himself with but his dagger. There was no outlet for escape. Then they came to close quarters. The boldest threw themselves on him. Dragged to the ground, bound fast, he was pulled and pushed into the garden. Breathless and dishevelled the female horde parted to allow the approach of the _himégimi_--"Such open insult and vile conduct is difficult to overlook. The disloyalty intended is past pardon. For this, too great the grudge." The keen blade flashed, and the head of Iki rolled some feet distant. Without a glance in the direction of the miserable Takeo, the princess took her way back to her apartment. At last some attention could be given to the suffering and disfigured girl. She was paying the penalty for her treachery and disloyal thoughts. The pains which followed were aggravated by neglect. The face and chest one mass of burns, the wounds soon became putrid. The stench was so frightful that none would go near her. They brought her food; then fled her presence in disgust. As she grew weaker, unable to feed herself, the pangs of starvation were added to her woes. The continued cries of agony grew feebler and feebler, became a mere low moaning; then ceased altogether. "Thus trifles lead to death, and lechery finds its punishment." The bodies of the guilty pair, thrown into the garden well, there found the only interment. Her ladyship was not to escape. Following this scene her passions broke out of all bounds. She took no new lover; it was lovers. Men were beckoned to the Yoshida Goten as to a brothel--with waving sleeves from the upper story. For a night, for a week, for a month they would be entertained. The weaker sort soon displeased her, and were dismissed; to find their end in the well of the willow, the Yanagi no Ido, of the inner garden of the palace. It would seem as if some wicked demon had entered the person of Takata Dono, to lead her into this course of debauchery. CHAPTER XII THE KO[U]JIMACHI WELL One day a toilet dealer came through the Bancho[u]. The sun was already on its decline as he passed the front of the Yoshida Goten on his way to his home in Kanda. It shone, however, on a fellow who at once attracted the attention of the look-out maid. She gave an exclamation--"Ma! Ma! What a handsome man! Such a loveable fellow! Her ladyship...." Then a feeling of pity seemed to close her mouth. But further speech was useless. The _himégimi_ lacked company for her night's feast. Herself she responded to the incomplete summons. A glance and--"Bring him here; without delay. Such a fine specimen is not to be allowed to escape." It could not be helped. At once the beauty, all smiles and gestures, with waving sleeves sought to attract the attention of the itinerant trader. The district was new to him, his sales had been poor. This summons was the direct favour of the Buddha. From this great mansion surely his pack would be much lighter on return. Timidly he approached the _samurai_ at the gate, fearing harsh repulse. The officer, however, was very amenable, transferring him at once to the guidance of the maid already waiting close by. Thus was he brought to the women's apartments; to be surrounded by a bevy of the sex, of a beauty of which he had had no experience. They began looking negligently over his poor stock, and closely over his own person. Then--"'Tis at her ladyship's order that the summons is made. Come this way." At this unusual conduct in a _yashiki_ he had some misgivings. His hesitation met with small consideration. The crowd of women surrounded him and pushed him forward, exercising a violence which astonished and paralysed resistance at being thus exalted above his sphere. Protesting he was taken to the bath. This office completed amid admiring comment, he was dressed in _hakama_ (trousers) and blouse, of stuff perfumed and of silky softness, which made him feel as if he moved in some dream. Thus purified and arrayed he was led through a long range of magnificent rooms, the sight of which sent his heart further and further into his heels. Finally he was introduced into an apartment of no great size, but with dais and bamboo blind. Led before this, his guides drew apart and prostrated themselves in obeisance. The toilet dealer followed the excellent example. The screen slowly rose and the Takata Dono appeared in all her beauty. At this period she was barely thirty years, in the full development of her charms. To the eyes of the poor toilet dealer it seemed as if Benten Sama, the goddess of love, was thus gravely regarding and measuring every line of face and body. Finally she seemed satisfied with this close inspection. A sign and the formality of the scene vanished. "Come closer.... The _saké_ cup!" Anxiously wriggling himself to her very presence, she then questioned him as to age, business, habits. Her voice was as silvery gentle as her face was beautiful. Soon he found himself looking up into it with confidence, as well as with awed respect. The _saké_ utensils brought, she condescended herself to fill the cup. This was filled again; and yet again. When the liquor began to show its influence her manner became more familiar. With a quick movement, which surprised him by the latent strength shown, she drew him close to her side, began openly to show her favour for him. "Such fine figure of a man is no such fool as not to know he can please a woman. The very trade leads him to study women's taste. Now sir: for test of your qualities...." But frightened the toilet dealer disengaged himself, and springing back a little he prostrated himself flat on the ground. "Deign not an unseemly jest. Close to the person of a great lady, such as is the honoured presence, the poor artisan finds but distress. His wares have no market amid this magnificence. Dependent on him for means of life are two aged parents. A bare subsistence is secured for them. Condescend his dismissal, that he may return to relieve their anxieties." The speech met with but poor reception. Gentle was the laugh of the _himégimi_, yet a little wrinkle knitted her brow. She seemed to regard him in a somewhat strange light. "Have no misgivings as to their fate. An ample sum shall be sent to assure them against need. Meanwhile Nature and the occasion has furnished forth the toilet dealer--for the lady's toilet.... Now for the wine feast." In the scene of riot and merriment which followed the one thought of the unfortunate trader was to escape. There was no strict order in the banquet, no formality. The idea of the _himégimi_ was to get the greatest pleasure out of everything to her hand, and all vied with each other, by song and art, with voice and musical accompaniment, by a minute attention to needs of host and guest to make the sensual effect of the scene complete. There was not a jarring element in the well trained bevy of women devoted to pleasure. The toilet dealer was free, yet bound. If he would seek occasion to leave his place, to move uneasily hither and thither in these wide rooms, as did the women with their carelessness and ease, always he found himself balked by their presence. Escape there was none. Soon he found himself again by her ladyship's side, to be plied with the wine until sense and caution gave way before the spell of the beautiful woman. To her it was an amusing game, a stimulant to her passion, the conquest of this reluctance in a man found to lack the brazenness and vulgarity of his caste. In the end he could but murmur at her feet that he was hers--to do with as she would. "Would that this dream could last forever! In this Paradise of the wondrous Presence." The scene was changed. Her ladyship rose. In the company of a few of the women he was led still further into the recesses of the palace. Here he was arrayed for the night, amid the merry jesting and admiring criticism of his attendants. Accompanied to the bed chamber the _fusuma_ (screens) were closed, and he could hear the fall of the bars in the outer passages. Submission now was easy, as inevitable, as taken by the storm of this woman's passion. With but short intervals of dozing she would draw him to her embrace, and intoxicate him with her caresses. "When the poison be taken--let the plate be full." With clearing brain, though under the spell of her beauty he never lost sight of the purpose to flee this doubtful snare. When at dawn she really slept, he rose to seek exit; to run into the ever vigilant guard. "Naruhodo! Truly an early riser the honoured guest. But all has been made ready. The bath is at hand. Deign to enter." Thus surrounded and compelled he began the second day. As the maid dressed him after the bath she broke out in admiration of his physical presence. "The handsome fellow! No wonder her ladyship was seized by the love wind." In the evening's entertainment he had proved himself no fool in interesting anecdote of the town, and a quaint and naive description of the view the lowly take of those who call themselves the great. Under the skilful questioning of one or other this simple fellow--of keen wit and observation--had shown a phase of life unknown to them, beyond the careless view afforded from between the blinds of the curtains of the palanquin. The vulgar boldness of his predecessors was conspicuously lacking, as was the tedious talk of war and discussion of court etiquette of noble and more formal guests. Not only her ladyship, but the maids thoroughly enjoyed him. His astonishment and fearful protest at the gorgeous robe put on him turned them from pity to amusement. Said a bolder wench--"Take and enjoy the gifts of her ladyship as offered. The chance is not likely again to present itself. Put aside all thought of past; seek pleasure in the present, without regard to the future." Though spoken with a smile which showed the whole row of beautiful teeth, there was a menace in the words which came home to him. If he had had some suspicions of his whereabouts, he felt sure of it now. There were but rumours and suspicions, slanders of course, of which he seemed destined to prove the truth. The knowledge seemed to add dignity to his pose. He would await her ladyship's exit from the bath. Conducted to the garden he strolled its beautiful inclosure, noted the high roofs on every side. Standing by the _tsukiyama_ he heard the shuffling of sandals. Turning he prostrated himself before the _himégimi_. Rosy, with sparkling eyes, long flowing black hair, regal presence, she was indeed the goddess Benten Sama in human flesh and blood. Without rising the toilet dealer made request--"Deign the honoured pity. To spend one's life in the service of the honoured Presence, this has been said; and for the words regret there is none. It is for those dependent. Condescend that no harm come to them, no distress from this visitation of gods and the Buddha. Willingly the price is paid for the delicious dream, no grudge felt for what is to follow." The _himégimi_ stopped short. For some time she was lost in thought. This man was keen enough of wit to know the price at which her favours were bought; brave enough not to flinch, or to make abortive effort to avoid his fate. Her whole experience brought feeling of disgust toward men, when once satiated. With this man the chord of pity was touched. The honoured sleeves were wet with the honoured tears as she made answer to the plea. Without slightest effort to deny her once purpose she consoled and reassured him. "It was determined, that granted favour you should never leave this place." Her brow darkened for a moment at the ominous words; than cleared radiant. "Those who enter here ascribe to their good fortune the pleasures they enjoy. Instead of modest gratitude they show the arrogance of possession. Purpose was first shaken by the filial love expressed for those who gave you being, the tender care and anxiety for their welfare. A man like you, one is assured of his faith and silence. At night you shall depart from here unharmed." She took him by the hand, and when he would show respect, with familiarity drew him along with her. Thus they walked the gardens, talking of varying subjects; she listening to his explanations and instances of life in the common world, and questioning him adroitly as to his past and future. Then the return was made to the inner apartments of the palace. From this stray honey bee the little lady sucked the last juices of its nature. The day was spent in the same riotous merriment and feasting. At the order of the _himégimi_ he had withdrawn for the moment from her presence. When the maid came toward him, it was with expectation of another summons that he followed after. She took him to a little room. Here were his coarse garments and his pack. To these were added the gifts heaped on him by her ladyship. The change of garb completed suddenly the girl took him in her embrace, pressing the now soft perfumed hair and warm moist skin of his neck. "Ah! You lucky fellow! But know that silence is golden." With this she as suddenly seized his hand and led him swiftly along the dark corridor. At its end an _amado_ was slipped back, and they were in the garden. To a postern gate she fitted the key. Pack adjusted he would turn to make salutation. Two slender firm hands laid on his shoulders sent him flying into the roadway. The gate closed with a sharp bang, and all sign of this fairy palace disappeared. Every day the toilet dealer had prayed to _kami_ and Buddha, made his offering of "cash" at the favoured shrines, performed such pilgrimages (_sankei_) as his limited means and scanty time permitted. To this alone is to be ascribed his escape. Not so with others: to turn the page to a second instance--One day a maid from above called to the gate guard--"Stop that man!"--"Who?" The guard was at loss, not what to do, but whom to stop. Promptly the highway was roped off. None were allowed to move until inspection was made. As the plebeians lay prostrate with noses on the backs of their hands they marvelled and spoke to each other. "Truly a wondrous event! Some great rascal must have been detected. Thanks to the _kami_ and the Buddhas the heart of this Taro[u]bei is clean."--"And of this Jimbei. To pay the debt to the _saké_ shop he has not hesitated to contract Tama to the Yoshidaya of Yoshiwara."--"Well done!" quoth his friend. "Then credit at the Echigoya is good?"--"Deign to come and drink a glass of poor wine, to the pleasure and good luck of Jimbei." The edifying conversation was interrupted by call for inspection. All passers by but men were summarily motioned on. A maid stood by--"No, not this one ... nor this one ... nor that.... Ah! That big brown fellow, with huge calves. He is the man." At once the "big brown man" with enlarged pediments was cut out from the heap of humanity, with whispering fear and looks the others went about their business. "Truly his crime must be very great. Yet who would suspect it! He is not an ill looking fellow by any means." Others shook their heads as they went away, vowing never again to take this road to work, or home, or pleasure. Before the _yakunin_ the prisoner fell on his knees. "Deign the honoured pardon. Doubtless grave is the offence; but of it there is no remembrance. An humble wheel-wright of Kanda, this worthless fellow is known as Gonjuro[u]. It is work at Nakano which brings him hither." He turned from one officer to the other. They disregarded his prayers, and delivered him over to the maid, directing him to obey her orders, or suffer for it. In dumbfounded surprise and gathering confidence he followed after. Surrounded by the army of maids he more than readily submitted to their ministrations. The freedom of the bath, the donning of the gorgeous robe, pleased him beyond measure. To their quips and words of double meaning he made ready answer, meeting them more than half way with the obscenity of the Yoshiwara. "Taro[u]bei is tricked out like an actor." At this all the greater was their merriment and boisterousness. Introduced into the presence of her ladyship, his first confusion at the magnificence of the surroundings was quickly removed by his cordial reception. The _himégimi_ laughed at sight of him; laughed still louder at his uncouthness. Then she passed to more earnest measures; praised his thickness of limb, the sturdy robustness of neck and loins. To his apologies--she urged him not to be frightened or backward. Pushing the thick shock of hair back from his eyes he eyed her with growing comprehension. After all a woman was a woman. "'Tis no fault of this Taro[u]bei. The _yakunin_ compelled his presence. For such a noble lady he would make any sacrifice." He spoke with bold look and manner, thoroughly understanding now the nature of his summons at the caprice of some great lady. Had he not suffered equal good fortune with the beauties of Yoshiwara? He treated lady and maids with the same free familiarity and sportive roughness as if in one of his favoured haunts. All the more was the _himégimi_ amused at his extravagance. She made no sign of displeasure, and the girls made little resistance to the fellow's boisterous manifestations as he tousled them. Always her ladyship had eyes of the greatest appreciation on this splendid animal. The feast set before him he looked on with small favour. "What then tickles the palate of Juro[u]?" She leaned toward him, her face flushed with this struggle to cage her latest prize. The silvery and enticing voice had for answer--"Také (bamboo); just plain boiled, with syrup and _sho[u]yu_." Then timidly, as he sought her good will--"Just a little wine; two _go_ (a pint) ... say five _go_." She laughed with good humour. His choice among this bevy of beauties at last had fallen spontaneously on herself. The conquest pleased her. Then he was well stuffed with coarse foods, hunted out of the supplies for the grooms and stablemen in the palace kitchen, with _saké_ of a harsh and burning kind--"which had some taste to it." Indeed never had he drank such! The _himégimi_ sipped a drop or two of the acrid liquor, made a wry face, and sought to bring the scene to its climax. With the bath next day he was all grumbling and exigencies. The maids bore this with patience, and glances interchanged. Her ladyship had promised him breakfast to restore exhausted Nature--"And such was promised as that this Taro[u]bei would never need another." He roared his dissatisfaction. The hint was taken up at once. "This way: it is for the _yakunin_ to carry out her ladyship's order, and to stop your gullet." The brusqueness of the _samurai_ was poor exchange for the noisy amorous atmosphere of the inner palace. With indignation the worthy wheelwright obeyed the order to march ahead. "Ah! Just wait my fine fellow. A word to the lady of the mansion, and you shall learn the cost of insult to the man she favours. This _yaro[u]_ Gonjuro[u] has no other wife. Her ladyship takes him as adopted husband." The officer winked and blushed a little at this very crude specimen. By this time he had led the man to the well curb in the inner garden. Harshly--"Now down with you. Favoured by the gods and Buddhas you cannot even hold your tongue. Ladies like not boasting of their favours. 'Tis now the time to express pity for you. Make ready!" Deftly he tripped him up, to send him an all fours. The sword flashed, and the wheelwright's head rolled on the ground. Just as it was the body was cast into the well. Such was the fate of those who found favour with the _himégimi_. More and more suspicious became people of the strange disappearances traced to the precincts of the palace. Strange tales went around, to gather force with numbers. Kwanei 8th year (1635), whether for closer supervision of the lady or actual necessity, she was removed to the castle precincts, and there given quarters. Time doubtless it was, that tempered these crazy outbursts of the _himégimi_. She lived until Kwambun 12th year. On the 2nd month 21st day (12th September 1672) she died at the age of seventy two years. Grand were the obsequies of one so favoured by the Sho[u]gun. The _daimyo[u]_ went up in long processions to condole with the suzerain at the death of a rich aunt, and congratulate him on the possessions seized. On the 24th day the lord of the land sent lavish incense and a thousand pieces of silver, by the hand of Inaba Mimasaka no Kami Masamori, to Matsudaira Echigo Ke the son and heir, doubtless glad enough to get this much out of his lady mother's rich furniture and dower. From the Midai-dokoro, the Sho[u]gun's consort, by the Bangashira (Superintendent) of the women's apartments of the Sho[u]gunal palace, he secured another thousand pieces of silver. All was treasure trove toward the heavy expense of the imposing funeral. On the seventh day of the decease--the 27th day (18th September)--the obsequies took place at the Tentokuji of Shiba, where she was to rest, well weighted down by massive sandstone and an interminable epitaph--of which the posthumous name of Tenso[u]-in can be remembered. The Sho[u]gun Ke was present in his proxy of Tsuchiya Tajima no Kami Kazunao. The Yoshida Goten had shorter shrift than its once occupant. The _daimyo[u]_ were moving into _yashiki_ under the compulsory residence edict. The _kyakubun_ were still met at the outskirts of the city, but the many different palaces for their entertainment became superfluous. The main part of the Yoshida Goten was pulled down, and its magnificent timbers and decoration went to the equipment of the prior's hall of the Kugyo[u]ji of Iinuma. This great temple, situate one _ri_ (2-1/2 miles) to the north of Midzukaido-machi, in the plain at the base of Tsukuba-san, is one of the eighteen holy places of the Kwanto[u], and under the charge of the Jo[u]do[u] sect of Buddhists. In former days the notice board was posted at the Chu[u]mon (middle gate), ordering all visitors to dismount from horse or _kago_. The _bushi_ removed their swords on presenting themselves for worship. The temple itself is of moderately ancient foundation, being established in Oei 21st year (1414) by the two Hanyu lords, Tsunésada and Yoshisada, who built the castles of Yokosomé and Hanyu, close by here in Shimosa. Grand is the _hondo[u]_ (main hall); and grand the magnificent old pines and cedars which surround it and line its avenues. These are set off by the girdle of the flowering cherry, famed among the ancient seven villages of Iimura. Moreover it was the scene of the early labours in youth of the famous bishop--Yu[u]ten So[u]jo[u]; who solved so successfully the blending of the pale maple colour of its cherry blossoms that he gave the name _myo[u]jo[u] no sakura_, a new transcript of the "six characters." Here he grappled with and prevailed over the wicked spirit of the Embukasané. In later writers there is a confusion as to the tale of the Yoshida Goten. The palace material was used for the construction of the prior's hall.[13] In the Genwa period (1615-23) the Senhimégimi, eldest daughter of Hidétada Ko[u] the second sho[u]gun, cut _short_ her beautiful hair and assumed the name of the Tenju-in-Den (as nun). The hair was buried here under an imposing monument; and later one of the ladies-in-waiting of the princess--the Go-tsuboné Iiguchi Hayao. (The name of the princess Tsuruhimé in _kana_ is probably a later and mistaken addition.) Thus were the many adventures of the Takata Dono transferred to her equally well known and beautiful elder sister. The Senhimé, wife of Hidéyori, suffered and did quite enough herself for which to make answer. Meanwhile the site of the Yoshida Goten in the Bancho[u] became more than suspected. Jack-o-lanterns, the ghosts of the victims of the _himégimi_, came forth from the old well to haunt and frighten passers-by. Nor were subsequent attempts to use it encouraging. Thus the ground lay idle and uncalled for, with no one to occupy it until the grant of a large tract in Dosanbashi as site for the _yashiki_ of Matsudaira Higo no Kami compelled removal of several of the _hatamoto_. Among these were O[u]kubo Hikoroku and Aoyama Shu[u]zen.[14] CHAPTER XIII THE SEN-HIMÉGIMI (Princess Sen) The Sen-_himégimi_, eldest daughter of Hidétada the second Sho[u]gun, figures little in our story; enough so, however, to necessitate the telling of one of the not least striking episodes in a life full of event. Married at the mature age of six years to the Udaijin Hidéyori, son of the Taiko[u] Hidéyoshi and lord of O[u]saka castle, those childish years were the happiest of that period. Clouds were rising between Toyotomi and Tokugawa as the princess approached nubile years. On her the Yodogimi, mother of the Udaijin, visited the more personal effects of her resentment. For the growing girl it was a period of tears and affliction. In truth she well knew the weight of her mother-in-law's hand. So wretched was her life that there was some fear of her killing herself. A powerful influence in screening her in these later years was that of the famous Kimura Nagato no Kami. Shigenari and his wife Aoyagi were the guides and friends of the _himégimi_ during this trying period; her councillors to forestall cause of the Yodogimi's wrath. Moreover the pleasant relations between the young husband and wife were an incentive to bear a burden patiently, which time might remove. Nevertheless the Yodogimi was inexorable. The night screens were set up in different chambers. When the Sen-himégimi made her escape from O[u]saka castle she was sixteen years old, and in all likelihood a virgin. As to the stories of her escape from the besieged castle, then in the very throes of the final vigorous and successful assault by the three hundred thousand men surrounding it, these vary. According to one account Iyeyasu Ko[u], brows knit with anxiety as he watched his men pressing to the attack, thumped his saddle bow as vigorously as waning years now permitted--"The Senhimé to wife, to him who brings her safe from the castle!" Not a man in his train moved. They looked at the blazing mass before them, the flying missiles--and staid where they were. Then came forward a Tozama _daimyo[u]_, Sakasaki Dewa no Kami Takachika.[15] Prostrating himself he announced his purpose to make the attempt. Making his way into the blazing pile of the burning castle he found the Senhimé amid her frightened maids. Wrapping her up carefully he took her in his arms, and with great regard for her person, and none for his own, he sought her rescue. The last chance was through the blazing mass of the great gate. Just as he was about to clear it, down came the tottering superincumbent structure almost on their heads. The red hot tiles, the sparks like a fiery deluge, the blazing fragments of wood carried and tossed by the air currents, surrounded them as in a furnace. Nearly all the train perished in the attempt. Dewa no Kami succeeded in presenting himself before the O[u]gosho[u] (Iyeyasu). Even the old captain could but turn with pity from the hideously disfigured man. The Senhimé in all her beauty was saved. Bitter was her resentment against all--father, grandfather, their partisans--who had refused the gift of life to the young husband. Rescue or no rescue, she absolutely refused to carry out the agreement and become the wife of this--mask. Other tales are less romantic. The most prosaic sends Dewa no Kami to Kyo[u]to, on orders of Hidétada Ko[u]. For the princess a second bed was to be found among the Sekké (the five great _kugé_ Houses of the imperial court). The mission was not unsuccessful, but by the time the messenger returned Hidétada had changed his mind.[16] Brusquely he offered her to Dewa no Kami. The Senhimé got wind of these movements. Her resentment toward the Tokugawa House determined her hostile stand. She would not be an instrument to their advancement. Family relations were taken very seriously. It is to be remembered that her uncle Hidéyasu, adopted into the Toyotomi, was so fiercely loyal to that House that his natural father, the O[u]gosho[u] Iyeyasu, poisoned him, by his own hand and a gift of cakes, it is said. Those likely to hitch and hamper the movement against O[u]saka, such as the famous Kato[u] Kiyomasa, found short shrift in the soup bowl. At all events the insult of refusal fell on Dewa no Kami. After all, by the most authentic tale, he seems to have deserved no particular credit. As to the actual escape from O[u]saka-Jo[u] either of the following versions can be accepted. As suicide was the inevitable issue for the defeated, the Yodogimi, with some reluctance, had announced her purpose; and her intent to involve the _himégimi_ in the fate of herself and son. This was but the ethics of the time; and was neither cruel nor unusual. It was thoroughly constitutional. Fortunately the fears of the Lady Dowager made her add--"the time is not yet propitious." She left the keep, intending to ascertain in person how matters went on outside, before going on with the ceremony inside. The maids of the Senhimé at once surrounded her and urged flight. Overpowering any resistance, moral and physical, these energetic _samurai_ women bundled their mistress well into _futon_ (quilts). Then with no particular gentleness they lowered her over the castle wall. Others followed her--to destruction or better luck, without _futon_. Some twenty of them risked the descent. Horiuchi Mondo[u], a gentleman of Kishu[u] Kumano, noticed the unusual group. They besought an aid for the princess he readily gave. Dewa no Kami happened to come on the scene, and promptly took the responsibility of the safety of the princess on his own shoulders. Here the two versions join, for by the other Ono Shuri, captain of the defense and hence most seriously involved, sought the safety of his own daughter. The princess therefore was sent from the castle, under the care of his _karo[u]_ Yonemura Gonémon, to plead for the lives of the Udaijin and his mother the Yodogimi. Ono was careful to include his daughter in the train, and the _karo[u]_ followed his illustrious example. Dewa no Kami met the party outside the castle, and grasped the chance of being agreeable by escorting it to the camp of the O[u]gosho[u]. Honda Sado no Kami here was in charge. His mission to the grandfather was eminently successful. Iyeyasu, overjoyed at the escape of the beloved grandchild, consented; provided that of the actual Sho[u]gun be obtained. All rejoiced, with little thought of Hidétada's harsh feeling. Perhaps the message expressed this; perhaps it was spoken to cover refusal, for he had deep affection for his children. But as in greatest wrath he made answer--"The thing is not to be spoken of. Why did she not die together with Hidéyori?" The Senhimé was safe enough now in his camp; and he did not purpose the escape of his rival Hidéyori, to be a permanent danger to his House. The princess, worn out by many days of suffering, went to sleep in the shed which furnished her with quarters, and never woke until high noon on the following day. By that time she could choose between the tales of her husband's escape to Satsuma; or his suicide and her widowhood, the only proof of which was the finding of the hereditary sword of the Toyotomi House. She clung to the former story, despite the ascertained suicide of the Yodogimi, who hardly would have allowed the escape of the son and her own destruction. Thus disgruntled, later the _himégimi_ was removed to Kyo[u]to, fiercely hostile to all the Kwanto[u] influence. A word in conclusion as to the fate of the attendants, thus skilfully foisted on her. The daughter of Ono Shuri had escaped, with all the sufferings and passions aroused by family disaster. When subsequently the princess was removed to Edo she went in her train. They were companions in misfortune. In the hostile atmosphere she was taken with a consumption, long to undergo its torments. Overcome by homesickness she would return to former scenes, and worship at her father's grave. Permission was now granted. Yonémura accompanied the dying girl to the capital. Here Ono Shuri had lost his head in the bed of the Kamogawa (the execution ground). Here at Kyo[u]to the daughter found her tortured end. Gloomy the old vassal prepared the funeral pyre of his mistress. As the flames shot high and wrapped the corpse, a woman's figure darted forward and sprang into the midst. Unable to distinguish the bones of his daughter from those of the honoured mistress, Gonémon placed the remains of both within the same casket, to rest at the last beneath the pines and cedars of the holy mountain of Ko[u]ya. On June 4th (1615) the castle had fallen. The date is important in connection with one of the current scandals. Later the Senhimé was escorted down to Edo by Honda Mino no Kami Tadamasa, in whose train was his handsome son To[u]nosuké (Tadatoki). He is said to have been like enough in appearance to the Udaijin Hidéyori to act as his substitute in the most intimate sense. The fierce little lady fell violently in love with him. By the time Edo was reached she ought to have married Honda, and in the passage of the months and days would have to. At all events this rather disproportionate marriage was early proposed to the council of the Bakufu, and after some discussion accepted. This decision was not reached until Genwa 2nd year 9th month (October 1616), or more than a full year after the fall of the castle. The failure to carry out the agreement with Dewa no Kami afforded ample reason for the extremity to which this latter's rage was carried. By all accounts he had lost a bride, the acknowledged beauty of the land, apart from the great influence of the connection. Perhaps his own hideous disfigurement was involved. He determined to lie in wait for the journey down to Himeji, Honda's fief; and kill or carry off the lady. The Sho[u]gun's Government got wind of the purpose. The lords were storming with wrath, and a public fracas was feared. All composition had been refused. Dewa refused to see his friend Yagyu[u] Munénori, sent to him as messenger of greatest influence. Secret orders then were sent that Dewa no Kami must be induced to cut belly, or--his vassals ought to send his head to Edo. The Sho[u]gun's word and bond must be saved. The vassals knew their lord, and had not loyalty enough to act otherwise than to sever his head, as he lay sleeping off a drunken fit in broad daylight. It was against rewarding this disloyal act that Honda Masazumi showed open opposition to the council's decision; and Hidétada Ko[u] himself disapproved enough not to inflict extinction (_kaieki_) on the family of the dead lord, the usual process. The continuance of the succession was permitted on the Sho[u]gun's order. All these matters were so public that little credit is to be given to the rôle assigned to Sakasaki Dewa no Kami in the event about to be described; the issue of which was so unfortunate in the carrying out, that Sakasaki, in command of the bridal cortege and keenly feeling the disgrace, cut open his belly in expiation; and that the Government, to hush up talk as to attack on the train of the princess, put forward as explanation the proposed treachery and resultant death of Dewa no Kami. As to the event itself: with greatest reluctance, uncertain as to her former husband's fate, the Senhimé had been forced into agreement with the Honda marriage. From the Nishimaru (western) palace the bridal cortege took its way to the _yashiki_ of Honda near the Hitotsubashi Gomon. Time was at a discount in those days, and by no means was the shortest route to anything taken. The procession filed out of the Sakurada Gomon, to circle with its pompous glitter the outer moat. All went very well. The _yashiki_ walls bordering Tayasumura were slipping by. Then the steadily accumulating clouds poured forth their contents. It was a downpour, blinding in effect. The _rokushaku_ of the Kurokwagumi--stout and tall palanquin bearers, "six footers"--floundered and staggered in the mud. The heavy palanquin came to the ground. Great was the rage of the princess at this unseemly precedent for such an occasion. "Rude ruffians! By this very hand this scum shall die!" _Te-uchi_ was to be the lot of the miserable fellows prostrate in obeisance and seeking pardon in the blinding storm from the lady's dagger, menacing them from the open door of the palanquin. The Lady of O[u]saka was quite capable of carrying out her threat. Abé Shiro[u]goro[u], later the famous Bungo no Kami, was equal to the occasion. With soft words he would soothe her. "Congratulations to the _Himégimi_! May her highness deign to accept the so happy augury of present ill luck bringing good fortune throughout a long and happy life. Deign to regard with future favour the words of Shiro[u]goro[u]." He got as near the mud as he dared in his respectful salutation. The lady's face softened. She was appeased. Then she held up the hand, with the dagger still ready for action. Shiro[u]goro[u] sprang to his feet. Something else than storm was in progress. In the escort ahead there were other sounds than the rumbling and sharp crash of the thunder, the swishing of rain wind driven. The flashes of lightning showed that the cortege was the object of a most determined attack, which sought to make its way to the palanquin of the princess. Abé Shiro[u]goro[u] would have leaped forward, but the flashing eyes and presence of the _himégimi_ held him to her nearer defence. The number of the assailants could not be ascertained in this darkness like to night.[17] The tower of defence was Yagyu[u] Tajima no Kami, greatest master of the sword in Nippon. He had the support of the younger O[u]kubo, of Kondo[u] Noborinosuké, of Mizuno Juro[u]zaémon even then noted as expert with the spear. In general command was the beloved superintendent of the _hatamoto_, O[u]kubo Hikozaémon. In daylight the affair would have been easy. But in this darkness they had to stand to their defence. That it was an attack by O[u]saka _ro[u]nin_, enraged at the marriage of the princess, there was no doubt. But what their numbers? So far the defense was impregnable. There was nothing to fear. Three of the leaders of the _ro[u]nin_ lay on the ground. Their chief, visible in the lightning flashes, could not hope for success. It was the old and still active Hikozaémon, the _oyaji_ (old chap), the hardened warrior of Iyeyasu, who scented out the threatening move. He sprang off into the dark wood, almost as the crack of the musket was heard. They would seek the life of the _himégimi_ with deadly missiles! How contemptible; for great as yet was the scorn of such use. Vigorous was the old man's pursuit of a foe, seeking to ascertain his success and reluctant to flee. "Ah! Ah! Rascal! Just wait! Wait for this Hikozaémon!" The fellow did wait, a little too long. Noting the lessening darkness, the discomfiture of his train, he turned to flee in real earnest. As he did so, Hikozaémon, despairing of success, hurled his dirk. Deep into the fellow's shoulder it went. "Atsu!" Savagely he turned on the old man. Hikozaémon was skilled in defence, but stiffening with age. His opponent showed himself an able warrior. "Ah! Ha! 'Tis Hikozaémon Dono. With him there is no quarrel. Deign to receive a wound." The old fellow's sword dropped helpless under a sharp rap over the wrist from the back of the blade. This was enough for the man's purpose. With laughing and respectful salutation, of short duration, he turned to a more successful flight. The storm cleared away, the cortege was re-formed; to enter in state the _yashiki_ of Honda Sama. It was said that he got but a cold bride--one on whom only "the bed quilt lay light." Time, the ascertained fact of Hidéyori's death, worked a change in the insanity simulated by the princess. Then she was so taken with her lord that she proved fatal to him. He died at the age of thirty-one years, was buried in his castle town of Himeji, leaving but one daughter as issue by the princess. The lady returned to residence at the Takébashi Goten, to be a disgruntling influence in her brother's court. But Honda Ke had not done badly. This consort made him a minister in the Sho[u]gun's household (Nakatsukasa no Tayu), a more likely promotion than one at the age of sixteen years, at this date of the Sho[u]gunate. From 10,000 _koku_ his fief was raised to 150,000 _koku_; and he secured a wife so beautiful that his exodus to the houris of Paradise was a bad exchange. Meanwhile what was the cause of objection, thus expressed by force of arms, to the conduct and nuptials of the Sen-himégimi? CHAPTER XIV SHU[U]ZEN ADOLESCENS The struggle between Toyotomi and Tokugawa was of that embittered character which follows from two diverse theories of political structure. The Taiko[u] Hidéyoshi, by force of military genius and constructive statesmanship, had assumed the pre-eminent position in the land. In doing so he had drawn to himself a sturdy band of followers whose whole faith and devotion lay in the Toyotomi. Such were the "seven captains," so conspicuous in the defence of O[u]saka-Jo[u] in later years. Such were the doughty fighters Susukita Kanéyasu (Iwami Ju[u]taro[u]) and Ban Danémon. The latter unceremoniously shook off allegiance to his lord on the latter's treachery at Sekigahara, and turned _ro[u]nin_. Such were great recalcitrant nobles thumped into complete submission, granted unexpected and favourable terms in their capitulation, devoted henceforth to the Toyotomi House, and of whom the Cho[u]so[u]kabé of Tosa are representative. It is the fashion of modern historians to regard and speak of these brave men as irreconcileables and swashbucklers; thus tamely following after the Tokugawa writers of contemporary times, and imperialistic writers of to-day, to whom all opposition to the favoured "Ins" is high treason. As matter of fact, if men like the Ono were lukewarm and seeking their own advantage; if Obata Kambei Kagemori was a mere traitorous spy of the Tokugawa; Sanada Yukimura and Kimura Nagato no Kami, and in humbler sense Susukita Kanéyasu and Ban Danémon, if they had much to gain by the victory of their lord, yet were willing to endure hardship, face a defeat early seen, and accept the inevitable death which was meted out to him who refused the attempts at bribery and corruption of the victor. The "_ro[u]nin_," of whom the then Tokugawa chronicles and captains spoke so contemptuously, were in the bulk not only "the outs," as opposed to "the ins," but they were too devoted to their party tamely to accept service with the enemy. Large were the bribes actually offered to Sanada and Kimura; and any or all of the seven captains could have made terms of advantage--to themselves. "The scent of the plum, with the flower of the cherry; Blooming on branch of willow 'tis seen."[18] Iyemitsu Ko[u] hung this poem on the flowering plum tree to which he gave the name of Kimura no Ume; a conscious tribute to the chivalry of Shigénari. And O[u]kubo Hikozaémon risked life and favour in the destruction of the plant, and rebuke of the bad taste shown to men who had lost fathers, brothers, gone down before the deadly spear of the young captain. The fall of O[u]saka-Jo[u] decided the fate of the Toyotomi House. Not at once, for the rumour of the Udaijin's escape to Kyu[u]shu[u] kept alive hopeful resentment in the minds of the scattered _samurai_ whose captains had perished in the battles around O[u]saka, had died or cut belly in the final assault, or had lost their heads by the executioner's sword in the bed of the Kamogawa. Among those who found refuge in the hills of Iga was a certain Ogita Kuro[u]ji; a retainer of Nagato no Kami. This man gathered a band of kindred spirits, among whom his favoured lieutenant was Mo[u]ri Munéoki, although he much leaned to the astonishing acumen of Kosaka Jinnai, a mere boy in years, but hiding in his short and sturdy form a toughness and agility, with expertness in all feats of arms, which discomfited would be antagonists. In the discussions as to future movements there was wide difference of opinion. Munéoki, the true partisan, proposed to rejoin Hidéyori in Satsuma. "The prince is now harboured by Higo no Kami; Shimazu Dono of Satsuma, close at hand, will never permit the entrance of the Tokugawa into his borders. It is at Kagoshima-Jo[u] that the prince will reorganize his party; and thither duty calls." But Kosaka Jinnai was equally positive in the opposite sense. He turned Munéoki's own argument against the proposal. The prince could well be left to organize the West. It was for others to see how affairs went in the North. Therefore the first thing was to hasten to Edo, to ascertain the position of Daté Masamuné and the great northern lords at this final triumph of the Tokugawa, when at last their jealousy and fear might be aroused to opposition. Adventurous inclination, the desire to meet rather than run away from the enemy, turned the scale to Edo. Reluctantly Munéoki agreed. With Jinnai he proceeded, to learn the state of affairs as to the great northern House, so devoted to the new creed of Yaso (Jesus) as certain to be angry and alarmed at the savage persecution now entered on by the second Sho[u]gun. They returned to meet Ogita and the other captains at Odawara, and with unpleasant news. Masamuné Ko[u], luckily for his would be interviewers, was absent at Sendai. However there was no difficulty in finding out that far from dreaming of further embassies to Rome from the Prince of O[u]shu[u], he had and was acting so vigorously that probably in no quarter of Nippon was the hostile and treacherous creed so thoroughly stamped out. The watch and ward of the north country was practically left to a loyalty of which the Tokugawa felt assured. Munéoki made this report with bitter joy, and Jinnai could not say him nay. Then the former carried out his first plan. He made his way to Kyu[u]shu[u], to learn the truth as to the Udaijin's fate. Assured of this he harboured with the malcontents of Higo and Hizen, to take his part and perish some years later in the Amakusa uprising. Perhaps the tartness of Mori's criticism made his company unacceptable. Ogita preferred to follow the urging of Jinnai and his own inclination to observe how matters were going in Edo. Most of the company followed him, to establish themselves as best they could in the confusion of the growing town, rendered a thousand times worse by the settlement of the later troubles and the flocking of all classes to this eastern capital. Ogita set up as a doctor in Daikucho[u] (carpenters' street) of the Nihonbashi ward, under the name of Gita Kyu[u]an. His chief lieutenant, Jinnai, settled close to his leader in Kurémasacho[u], figuring as a physiognomist, of near enough relation to excite no comment in the companionship with the older man. His own years were disguised by an ample growth of hair and the past experience of an accomplished rascal. Jinnai could have passed himself off for a man of thirty odd years. The house of a physiognomist was overrun with visitors, whom Jinnai knew how to sift, and who had no particular wish to encounter each other. Hence the presence of the leaders, with his own particular followers, Watanabé Mondo, Ashizuké To[u]suké, Yokoyama Daizo[u], Hyu[u]chi To[u]goro[u], excited no comment among the neighbours. The question of the marriage of the Senhimé, the honoured widow of the Udaijin Ko[u], soon was stirring up a ferment in higher circles than these in Edo town. Sakai Uta no Kami and Doi Oi no Kami of the _ro[u]ju[u]_ (council of state) were keen to urge the match. She was young, and they plead the cruelty of forcing celibacy on her. She was the centre of the ill disposed and most willingly so. The stern old soldier Aoyama Hoki no Kami took the opposite ground. It was for her to cut short her hair and pray for the soul of the husband perished in the flames of O[u]saka-Jo[u]. Such was the precedent, and, he hinted with good ground, the disposition of the princess, then coquetting with Toshitsuné lord of the great Maéda House of Kaga. Besides he knew that Kasuga no Tsuboné, powerful influence in the private apartments of the palace, was urging on the match. The mere fact of her constant interference in the public affairs irritated Hoki no Kami beyond measure. He was acting through sentiment and conservatism. Kasuga and her allies were acting on political motives. They carried the day; to the great indignation of Hoki no Kami, and of an assistance he never dreamed of. Among the band of _ro[u]nin_ the matter was discussed with all the greater heat and bitterness of purpose, inasmuch as they had to do so mouth to ear. Ogita expressed their feeling when he summed up the matter as an outrageous breach of chastity on the part of a princess, who could not positively know whether the husband was yet living, or really had died at O[u]saka--"Hence she is doubly guilty, of treachery and pollution of her living lord; or of shameful lechery in this open neglect of his memory and seeking another bed. Moreover to put her to death will strike terror into the partisans of the Tokugawa, and give courage to all the adherents of the cause, of whom thousands are gathered here in Edo. A display of vigour will maintain those inclined to the new service true to the cause." All rapturously agreed. The occasion of the marriage and procession was settled upon for the attack, in which the leaders and some eighty men were engaged. The result, as told, was disastrous to them. Watanabe and Ashizuké were killed by Tajima no Kami's own hand. Kondo[u] Noborinosuké thrust his spear through the belly of Yokoyama Daizo[u]. Jinnai brought off in safety the bulk of the party. Ogita had tried to bring down the lady princess by a gun shot. In the straggle with Hiko[u]zaémon he purposely did the old man as little injury as possible. Respect for the grand old warrior, an amused interest in one whose influence lay in plain speaking, held his hand. If O[u]kubo Dono was entitled freely to express his opinion of the Sho[u]gun Ke, Kuro[u]ji took it as no insult to endure the same himself. He reached his home with a painful but not dangerous wound in the shoulder, to grunt over the infliction and this latest discomfiture. His nurse was not at all to the taste of Kosaka Jinnai. O'Yoshi was a bare twenty-three years in age. She was a beauty and a flirt. Ogita indulged in the greatest expansion with her; as would the man of fifty years to the girl, a mistress young enough to be a daughter. The months and weeks passed following the attempt on the Senhimé. The effort to hunt out the perpetrators had been given up in despair. The population of Edo as yet was too fluid and shifting to take very exact account of its movements. Doubtless they were _ro[u]nin_, and had promptly scattered on failure of the attack. Then the constant attempts at incendiarism, in many cases successful, began to attract attention. The two _machibugyo[u]_, together with the particular office for detection of thieves and incendiaries, were at their wits end to trace out this gang of fire bugs. One day O'Yoshi was just leaving the bath house in Daikucho[u] called the Cho[u]senya, when she met with an adventure. A young _samurai_ coming along the street attracted her admiring attention. He was barely twenty years of age, of good height and commanding presence. In black garb and wearing _hakama_, his two swords tucked in his girdle, and his cue trimmed high, attended by a _do[u]shin_ and several _yakunin_, the procession greatly flattered a woman's feeling. She tripped along, towel in hand, and her eyes anywhere but on her footing. Suddenly the strap of her clog broke. She was pitched forward, just able to keep her balance. The _samurai_ trod sharply on the discarded _geta_. A cry of pain followed, and O'Yoshi was all discomfiture at sight of the blood staining the white _tabi_ of the young lord. At once she was humble apology for her awkwardness, very badly received by the _do[u]shin_ who scolded her most severely--"Careless wench! Such rudeness is not to be pardoned." He would have laid rough hands on her, but Aoyama Shu[u]zen interfered. The woman was pretty, the injury painful, and he was young. "Don't scold her. It was by accident.... Don't be alarmed.... Ah! It hurts!..." He looked around, as seeking a place to rest. O'Yoshi was very solicitous over the handsome young man. "Deign to pardon the careless action. Alas! The foot of the young master is sadly injured. My husband is a doctor, Gita Kyu[u]an, of wondrous skill in the Dutch practice. Condescend to enter the poor house close by here, and allow drugs to be applied to the wound." Shu[u]zen really was suffering inconvenience and pain from his wound. Besides, as attached to the office of the _machibugyo[u]_, he sought all means of contact with the class whose offences were to be dealt with. He at once agreed. Ogita was absent when they entered. O'Yoshi tended the wound herself. The salve really had wonderful effect. Flow of blood and pain ceased. Cakes and tea, for refreshment, were placed before Shu[u]zen. O'Yoshi entertained him with amusing talk of the wardsmen of Nihonbashi, not the most stupid in Nippon. She retailed the bath house gossip, and Aoyama carefully took in costume, manners, and the conversation of the beauty, which did not at all accord with her station in life. If she was connected with a doctor now, at some time she had been intimate with men of affairs in his own caste. He thanked her graciously and would have forced lavish payment on her. O'Yoshi was all pained surprise and refusal. That her reluctance was genuine he could easily see. "I am Aoyama Shu[u]zen, and live in the _yashiki_ at Surugadai. The kindness shown is not to be forgotten, and perhaps some day this Shu[u]zen can serve his hostess." With compliments he took his leave. O'Yoshi watched the handsome youth well out of sight. She could not hear the remark of Shu[u]zen to the _do[u]shin_--"A suspicious house; no frowsy doctor shows such favour to his dame. Dress, manners, language, betray contact with the _samurai_." The officer nodded admiring assent to his young lord's acumen. Ogita Kuro[u]ji came limping home, to find O'Yoshi--Cho[u]senburo[u] Yoshi, as this adventure dubbed her--overflowing with her experience. At first he was rather pleased at such addition to his acquaintance. O'Yoshi was a bait to all but Jinnai, who would detach him from her. The others sought his favour to secure hers with greater ease. At mention of the _do[u]shin_, subordinate officials of the legal machinery, the official grade of the visitor, his brows knit. "Of official rank--that will never do! Deign Yoshi to be careful in relations with this man, if he should again appear. Engaged as is this Kuro[u]ji, the slightest hint, a suspicion, would be most disastrous."--"Then the affair of the Senhimégimi did not block matters? This Yoshi yet is to ride in palanquin, to be a _daimyo[u]'s_ wife?" The tone was a little jeering, and the laugh as of one sceptical. With thoughts on this new love the reference to this futile scheming annoyed her. She would push this acquaintance to the full effect of her charms. Ogita took some offence. He spoke braggingly, but disastrously to the point--"Assuredly 'tis Yoshi who shall be the lady of a _daimyo[u]_ of high place, not of a meagre fifteen or twenty thousand _koku_. Kaga Ke, Maéda Toshitsuné, is grinding his sword. The great Houses in the west--Hosokawa, Bizen, Kato[u], Mo[u]ri, Satsuma, will follow him. Give them but the opportunity in the disorder of Edo, and the sword will be drawn. In a month, Edo, fired at a hundred points will lie in ashes. Then...." He stopped a little frightened. But she feigned the greatest indifference, teased him into opposition. Sitting down before the wine she got out of him the whole affair. Reverting to the accident--"But yourself, an accident has been deigned. Has another Yoshi encountered Kuro[u]ji Dono?" To the tender solicitude half laughing he made jesting answer. "A Yoshi with beard and wearing two swords. To-day the contract was signed by all with the blood seal. The wine feast followed. The talk was earnest, some of it rash. Interposing in the quarrel, the dagger intended for the belly of one, was sheathed in the thigh of this Kuro[u]ji. A trifling flesh wound; well in a day or two, at present rest is needed."--"A dangerous affair; if it gives rise so easily to dispute." Such her comment. "Not so," answered the infatuated veteran. "They are too far in to withdraw." Before her eyes he unrolled the scroll. Her eye quickly ran along the crowded columns of the names--by the score. Here was indeed a big affair. Out of the corner of one eye she watched him put it away. The salve Ogita Kuro[u]ji used for his wound had no such benefit as that offered Aoyama Shu[u]zen; and perhaps O'Yoshi could have told the reason of its failure. By the next day the wound was inflamed enough to make movement difficult. Feeling the necessity of repair, Kuro[u]ji left all matters to his mistress, and sought early recuperation in complete rest. On plea of needed articles O'Yoshi was out of the house and on her hurried way to the Aoyama _yashiki_ at Suragadai. The distance was short; yet her plan was already laid. Her dislike for the ageing Ogita was sharpened into hate by her love for the handsome young _samurai_. Close to the _yashiki_ on pretext she entered the shop of a tradesman. To her delight she learned that the Waka Dono, Aoyama Shu[u]zen, as yet had no wife. She had a hundred yards to go, and her purpose and ambition had expanded widely in that short distance. Her application for an interview with his lordship was quickly granted. She had often been subject of talk and comment between Shu[u]zen and his subordinate officer. The _do[u]shin_ happened to be present, and the attendant announced her at once. Passed to the inner apartment she found Shu[u]zen as if he had been eagerly awaiting her coming for hours. Her reception was flattering. The ordinary salutations over they passed to most familiar talk, as of oldest friends between man and woman. When Shu[u]zen would go further, and in love making press still greater intimacy, her refusal was of that kind which sought compliance. Said she with a smile--"Make Yoshi the wife of the Waka Dono and she will make the fortune even of one so highly placed as Aoyama Dono." To his incredulity and astonishment she would say no more. Shu[u]zen now was determined not to let her go. He feigned consent, agreement to everything, with much regard for her, and small regard for the promotion at which he jested. Now they were in the very heigh-day of love. She resented his scepticism, and in the heat of her passion gave him everything--including the contract. His mistress by his side, seated in the confidence of an accomplished love affair he listened to her stream of revelation. This "doctor" and "husband" was neither doctor nor husband. His name was Ogita Kuro[u]ji, an O[u]saka _ro[u]nin_. With Kosaka Jinnai and others of the same kidney he had been the head and front of the attempted rape of the Senhimé. Shu[u]zen knew enough to discount all the talk as to Maéda Ko[u], of the Hosokawa, and other great Houses. They were beyond his sphere. But here in his hands lay the web of a most important affair; so important that it frightened him a little. As his brows knit O'Yoshi too grew a little frightened; regretted that she had told so much all at once. She had babbled beyond measure in her transport. She had misgivings. Shu[u]zen reassured her. For her to return to Daikucho[u] would never do. A breath of suspicion, and Ogita's sword would deprive him of his mistress. Safe quarters were to be found in the _yashiki_. He called the _do[u]shin_, one Makishima Gombei, and put her in his charge. The two men exchanged glances as she was led away. The office of the south _machibugyo[u]_ was in a ferment when Aoyama made his report. All available _yakunin_ were at once gathered. The list was carefully gone over with the minister for the month, Hoki no Kami. Despatched on their various missions the squads departed. To Shu[u]zen was assigned the capture of Ogita Kuro[u]ji, leader of the conspiracy. This latter was chafing at the prolonged absence of O'Yoshi. Some accident must have happened to her. Then he remembered. She had gone to Hacho[u]bori. Here lived a sister, whose delivery was daily expected. Doubtless this commonplace event, yet surpassing in interest to every woman, detained her. A confusion outside attracted his attention. There was a crowd, and some disturbance. Hatsu! The people were being kept back by _yakunin_. "The thoughts of Kuro[u]ji were those of the wicked." At once he attributed their presence to himself. A look out at the rear and he quickly shot to the wooden bar. Between the bamboo of the fence men could be seen passing to and fro in numbers; and they were _yakunin_. He had been betrayed. The counsel of Jinnai came to mind, and he ground his teeth as he stood with drawn sword before the empty drawer of the cabinet. The scarlet of the _obi_ of his false mistress flashed before his eyes. He had to die unavenged. "On his lordship's business! On his lordship's business!" The harsh voices sounded at the front. Those who would enter uninvited found themselves face to face in the narrow space with the old Kuro[u]ji, the man who had fought from Sagami to Tosa, from Cho[u]sen to Kyu[u]shu[u]. The more incautious fell severed with a cut from shoulder to pap. A second man put his hand to his side, and rolled over to breathe his last in a pool of blood. Visions of "Go-ban" Tadanobu came to mind. Kuro[u]ji would die, but he would leave his mark on the foe. Shu[u]zen's men could make no progress, except to swell the death roll or their wounds. In rage their lord sprang to the encounter. Shu[u]zen was young, but it is doubtful if the issue would have been successful with this man turned demon by the double injury and treachery. But Ogita amid this horde of assailants had suffered in his turn. In a parry his sword broke off short near the hilt. With a yell he sprang to close quarters, dealing Shu[u]zen a blow with the hilt that sent him reeling senseless to the ground. Then, unable to accomplish more, and taking advantage of the respite caused by the rescue of his foe, he sprang to the ladder leading above. Once on the roof he saw that escape was hopeless. Already they were breaking into the rear. Men were approaching over the neighbouring houses. In the old style of ages past he waved them back with drawn dagger. There was no Shu[u]zen to give command--"Take him alive!" They were only too glad to halt and let him do his will. Stripping to his girdle, before the assembled crowd he thrust his dagger into his left side and drew it across his belly. Then he made the cross cut through the navel. "Splendid fellow! A true _bushi_!" Admiring voices rose in the crowd. The body of Kuro[u]ji fell forward and down into the street. Thus he died. This affair had ended in a way to redound greatly to the credit of Aoyama Shu[u]zen. Others had not been so successful. Of nearly two hundred names only eighteen prisoners were secured. Shu[u]zen stamped with impatience on learning of the escape of Kosaka Jinnai. He had learned much about him from the hate of O'Yoshi. "That man is the real leader of the band, the inspiration of Ogita Kuro[u]ji. Ah! Why could not this Shu[u]zen be in two places at once!" Older officials bowed low, and smiled to themselves and each other at youth's self confidence. O'Yoshi now found short entertainment. Shu[u]zen had no further use for the woman, for the means of his promotion. One day a _chu[u]gen_ led her to the postern gate of the _yashiki_, put a paper containing a silver _ryo[u]_ in her hand, and unceremoniously shoved her into the roadway. The gate closed behind her. At first she hardly comprehended the meaning of this treatment. Then, as it filtered into her mind, her rage passed all measure. "Ah! The beast and liar! Yoshi was not fit to be the wife; nay, not even the female companion of this arrogant lord?" She had been juggled out of the secret of such value to him, then cast forth with the wages of a prostitute summoned to the _yashiki_. The woman was helpless. Broken in spirit she dragged herself off, to undergo a severe illness brought on by despite. Her foul rôle ascertained, friends and family would have nothing to do with her. Once recovered, she found herself deprived of all means of subsistence, even that of beauty, by her disease. Never more would she deal with the noble class, to be left with such a legacy. She would pray for the salvation of the man she had betrayed. On her way to the Asakusa Kwannon she passed the jail, then near the Torigoébashi. Stumbling along just here she raised her head, to confront the long line of rotting heads there set forth. Just facing her was that of her ex-lover Ogita Kuro[u]ji. It took on life. The eyes opened and glared fierce hate. The lips moved, and the teeth ground together. Then the other heads made measured movements. "Atsu!" With the cry she fell fainting to the ground, and it was difficult to restore her to consciousness. For several years the half crazed beggar woman sought alms near the jail, to act as guide and comment on the fresh heads exposed, until as nuisance she was driven off by the guard. Then the shameful swollen corruption of the body was drawn from the canal close by; thus to end on the refuse heap the treachery of Cho[u]senburo no O'Yoshi. CHAPTER XV THE GOD FAVOURS SHU[U]ZEN The influence of a House close to the person of the Sho[u]gun was no drawback to the close attention Aoyama Shu[u]zen gave to official duty throughout his career. The Aoyama stood high in the council of the governing power. Even an old blunderbuss like Hoki no Kami could not shake this influence. When Yukinari tore the mirror from the hands of the young Sho[u]gun Iyemitsu Ko[u], berated him roundly for effeminacy, and dashed the offending object to pieces on the stones of the garden, this wanton treatment of the prince could not be overlooked. "Invited" to cut belly by his intimates and opponents in the council (_ro[u]ju[u]_) he defied them, laid hand to sword, and swore they should join him in a "dog's death." The timely entrance of O[u]kubo Hikozaémon prevented the unseemly spectacle of three old soldiers and statesmen enjoying the fierce and deadly pastime of one of the duels of Keicho[u] (1596-1614). Hoki no Kami in his own way was right--and knew it; and he had the tacit approval of Hidétada Ko[u]. The result was not _harakiri_, but the offending noble was consigned to the care of his brother. He and his were "extinguished"; for the time being, and to the greater glory of his other relatives near the Sho[u]gun's person. Such was the rough discipline in Hidétada's camp of Edo. The second Sho[u]gun, now retired (O[u]gosho[u]--_inkyo[u]_), never lost the manners or the methods of the battle field. The career of Aoyama Shu[u]zen therefore was a steady rise in the Government service; in younger years attached to the immediate train of the prince, in greater maturity to the enforcement of the edicts through the legal machinery of the Bakufu. At this time he ruffled it bravely with the other young blades. The younger _hatamoto_ on their part opposed to the _otokodaté_ of the townsmen the far more splendid _Jingumi_ or divine bands. Yamanaka Gonzaémon knocked out several front teeth and inserted in their places gold ones. Hence the rise of the _Kingumi_ or Gold Band. Aoyama Shu[u]zen did likewise with substitution of silver. Hence the _Gingumi_. They were all of the Mikawa _bushi_; that is, drawn from the native province and closely affiliated to the Tokugawa House. Hence these _hatamoto_ carried themselves high even against the greater _daimyo[u]_, sure of support from their over-lord the Sho[u]gun. As for the town, they did as they pleased, seeking quarrels, distributing blows, and only restrained by wholesome reprisals of _ro[u]nin_ or the _otokodaté_ of the townsmen, who in turn relied on such _daimyo[u]_ as Daté Ko[u] and Maéda Ko[u], valued allies of the Tokugawa House, yet showing no particular liking for the encroachments of the palace clique on their own privileges. The necessity of moving quarters was equally an embarrassment to Aoyama Shu[u]zen and to his intimate and neighbour O[u]kubo Hikoroku. O[u]kubo suggested Honjo[u]--"The water lies close by. Hence in winter the place is warm, in summer cool."--"And of mosquitoes swarms," interjected the practical Aoyama. "If the hillside be cold, it surely is no drawback to Hikoroku Uji." The one named made something of a wry face, and Aoyama smiled apart. He knew that Hikoroku was not so affectioned to the meetings of the Gaman Kwai as himself. However, smoothly--"This matter of the Yoshida Goten coming up offers fair opportunity. The failure of Endo[u] Uji need not discourage O[u]kubo Dono and this Aoyama." Both smiled a little. They could put palace influences better to work. "It is two thousand _tsubo_," said Shu[u]zen. "Just the thing: moreover, it is close to palace duty. On this point Honjo[u] is not in the running. Besides, the site has its own attraction. Of course Shu[u]zen takes the well, in the division." O[u]kubo interposed a lively objection, the shallowness of which Shu[u]zen could detect. He humoured his friend's obstinacy. "Leave it to the lots." In haste the slips were prepared--"Hachiman, god of the bow and feathered shaft, grant your divine aid and bestow the old well ghost haunted on this Aoyama." Okubo laughed at his earnestness. "Aoyama Uji leaves this O[u]kubo no resort but in the Buddha. Good fortune to O[u]kubo, and may the will of the Lord Buddha be done.... Naruhodo! 'Tis yours after all. The shaft of the war god is stronger than the Buddha's staff." He took his disappointment so well as to be the more urgent in securing the transfer. This was granted, with expenses of removal. Aoyama Shu[u]zen superintended in person the preparation of his new residence. This was soon in readiness as little was to be done. O[u]kubo took cash and construction. The former villa, fallen to Shu[u]zen's part, needed mainly air and light, and repairs to its rotten woodwork. When it was time to think of the water supply Aoyama ordered the cleaning out of the old well. The workmen began to talk--"'Tis the old well of the inner garden, the Yanagi-ido of the Yoshida Goten. Danna Sama, deign to order exorcism made, and that the well be filled up and covered from men's sight." The Danna laughed at them, and was obstinate in his purpose. He took upon himself all the wrath of the disturbed and angered spirits. He hoped that they would not furnish material for more. To hearten them, he and his men descended to the level of the water. With headshakes and misgivings the chief ordered his men to the task--"Pfu! It stinks of ghosts, or something. Surely there will be dead men's bones for harvest; and perhaps those of the living. The old well has not seen its last ill deed." As for the dead men's bones, the well refuse was laid aside, and on Aoyama's order buried with no particular reverence in the bowels of the _tsukiyama_ close by. "Let all the spirits of the place find company together," he jeered. The _yashiki_ of Komiyasan in Honjo[u] had its processions of marvels--dead men, frogs, _tanuki_, and fox--to shake its _amado_ at night and divert the monotony of those who lived therein. The portentous foot perhaps he could not match, but he would share in this contest with ghostly visions. Chance had offered him the opportunity. All was prepared. Shu[u]zen had established himself. Nightly with his camp stool he took his seat by the old well, to smoke his pipe and drink his wine--"Now! Out with you, ghosts! Here present is Aoyama Shu[u]zen, _hatamoto_ of the land. He would join in your revels. Deign to hasten.... What! The ghosts would rest this night?" Thus night after night passed with his jeering and no sign of the supernatural objects, not thus to be conjured. Time made the pastime stale--as stale as the waters of the Yanagi-ido which never furnished supply for the house or its tasks. Aoyama had the excuse of drinking wine. As for the household, the women would not even use the water for washing. They said it stunk too badly. In so far Shu[u]zen failed. It was about the time of his entrance on this new possession that more good fortune came to Shu[u]zen. He was made the magistrate whose office covered the detection and punishment of thieves and incendiaries. It showed the estimation in which he was held, and satisfied both the vanity and the hard cold temper of Aoyama Shu[u]zen. Looking to results, more than method, the selection was most satisfactory; if return of the number of criminals was the index assumed. Until a method attracted unfavourable attention by some scandal, only results were regarded by the Bakufu. But his household could not regard with any easiness a devotion of his lordship to the wine cup, which turned his court into a wine feast. Up to this time Aoyama Shu[u]zen in all official duty had shown himself hard, unbending, callous, conscientious. Now the element of cruelty appeared, to develop rapidly with exercise until it was the predominant tone. Some illustrations are to be given from events occurring in these first three years of Sho[u]ho[u] (1644-6). Aoyama would show himself the strict disciplinarian. His chamberlain (_yo[u]nin_) Aikawa Chu[u]dayu close beside him, his _do[u]shin_ seated at either hand, he gave his orders and rebuke to the assembled constables. He scowled at them. Then with voice harsh from the contents of the big wine cup beside him he commanded--"Diligence is to be expected of all. He who fails to make many arrests shows sloth or ill will to his lord. Anyone against whom there is the slightest suspicion, even if he or she be abroad late at night, is to be brought to the jail. No explanation is to be allowed. There must be many arrests. Examination in the court is to follow; and many crimes, discovered under the torture, will be brought to punishment.... Heigh! Call up that old fellow there.... Who? That Ryu[u]suké." At Shu[u]zen's order Ryu[u]suké forthwith came close to the _ro[u]ka_. "You, fellow ... what manner of man to act as constable are you? Days pass without a single prisoner being brought in. This jade, found in the street at the hour of the rat (11 P.M.) pleads excuse of illness and the doctor. This lurking scoundrel, seeking to set half the town on fire, pleads drunkenness as keeping him abroad. Thus many of these villainous characters, whores and fire bugs, find field for their offenses. No more of such leniency. Failure to arrest means dismissal from the service and punishment as an ill-wisher. Oldest and most experienced, the greatest number of prisoners is to be expected at your hands. Shu[u]zen shows mercy. Your age remits the punishment, but dismissal shall afford example to the rest as to the wisdom of showing energy." Thus he cast forth without pity an ageing officer whose only offense was an experience which sought the mission of the night straggler, and allowed the harmless to go free. Ryu[u]suké went forth from the office of the _bugyo[u]_ stripped of the means of living and of reputation, and assured of the unforgiving character of his lord. That night he cut belly, recommending his family to mercy. This was soon found--in debt and the debtor's slavery allowed by the harsh code. Thus was the jail kept full, with the innocent and a sprinkling of the guilty. No one dared to be lax; for life hung on salary, and on zeal the continuance of the salary. Moreover all revelled in the reward of the wine cup liberally bestowed for zealous service--and the more liberally as Shu[u]zen took his turn with his big cup, every time he sent down the _saké_ to his underling. In Bakuracho[u] lived one Zeisuké, a poor but honest fellow who made his living by peddling the smaller kinds of fish and the salted varieties, for his trifling resources allowed no larger outlay for his trays. In this way with greatest difficulty he managed to support an old mother, a wife, a young child. Locally he was known as "Honest Zeisuké" for the not often found quality of representing the antiquity and character of his wares much as they were. When bad weather forbade the opening of the fish market, Zeisuké readily found some task at day labour by which a few _mon_ could be secured, and for which his character for honest service recommended him. One night, when on his way homeward, he was passing the Asakusa Gomon just as the cry of fire was raised. Knowing the alarm of his aged mother Zeisuké at once bolted towards home. When all were running toward the fire this at once attracted attention. By the law it was the strict duty of the citizen to betake himself to his ward, and to be ready for service in preventing spread of the often disastrous conflagration. His action was noted by the ever present myrmidons of Shu[u]zen. In a moment they were after him. Surrounded he was quickly caught. His explanation was not heard. "Say your say at the white sand, under the strokes of the _madaké_," was the rough answer. Thus he was dragged off to the jail. The next day Aoyama's first motion was to reward the captors with the wine cup. Harsh was the vinous scowl he cast on Zeisuké now cringing at the white sand. "Ha! Ah! A notable criminal; a firebug caught in the act, and attempting to escape. Make full confession. Thus much suffering is escaped, and the execution ground soon reached." Zeisuké had no confession to make, and to his explanation Aoyama turned a deaf ear. "Obstinacy is to be over-ruled." He made a sign. At once Zeisuké was seized. His head drawn downward two stout fellows now began to apply in rhythm the _madaké_--strips of bamboo to the thickness of an inch tightly wound together with hempen cord, and making an exceedingly flexible and painful scourge. The blood quickly was spurting from his shoulders. Aoyama and his chamberlain sat enjoying the scene immensely. At the seventieth blow the peddler fainted. "A wicked knave! Off with him until restored." Then he settled himself for the day's pastime; for the torture had come to have the zest of an exhilarating sport. The cries of pain, the distortions of agony under the stones, or the lobster, or suspension, the noting of the curious changes of flesh colour and expression under these punishments, the ready assent to absurdly illogical questions, all this not only amused, but interested Shu[u]zen. The naivété and obstinacy of the fisherman was just of the kind to furnish the best material. The fellow was sturdy of frame, and under skilled hands readily submitted to this dalliance for days without bending from his truth. Meanwhile things went on very badly at the house in Bakuracho[u]. The disaster of the arrest fell like a thunderbolt on the wretched little household. Day after day, hoping for the acquittal and release, one article after another went to the pawn shop. Reduced to absolute misery the house owner and the neighbours came to the rescue with a small sum raised among them. The long continued official suspicion affected even these toward the "Honest Zeisuké," and their support grew cold. Then came the news that Zeisuké had died in the jail under the torture. Tearless, aghast, deprived of all support, the wife and mother long looked in each other's faces. Said the old woman--"Alas! Alas! Neither gods nor the Buddha exist. Faithful and devoted was Zeisuké to this old mother. Unfortunate in his life, he has been equally unlucky in death. What now is to be done!" She put her sleeves over the old and wrinkled face, and bending low concealed tears and a long farewell to the beloved in the person of her grandchild. The wife was in little better case, but had to soothe this grief. A few coins remained. She would buy the necessaries for the evening meal. "But a moment, honoured mother. The return is quick. 'Tis but for the needed meal." Taking the child on her back she started off into the darkness. For a moment she turned to look at the mother. The old woman was following her with eyes tear dimmed in the sunken hollows. Thus they parted. For a moment the wife halted on the bridge over the Edogawa. The dark slimy waters were a solution, but she put it aside in the face of a higher duty. Soon she was on her way back. To her surprise the house was in darkness. Surely a little oil was left in the bottom of the jar. She called, without getting an answer. In alarm she groped her way in the darkness, to stumble over the body of the old woman, lying limp and helpless. Something wet her hand. Now she was in all haste for a light. "Ah! Ah! The honoured mother! What has occurred? Has not ill fortune enough fallen upon the home of Zeisuké?" Alas! the hand was stained with blood. The old woman had intended the parting salute to be the last. Left alone she had bit off her tongue, and thus had died. Rigid, as one stupified, the wife sat; without tears, but thinking. Now she was left alone. But what as to the child? A girl too? Ah! There were enough of her sex in this hard world. She reached out a hand to the long triangular sharp blade close by. She touched edge and point of the _debabo[u]cho[u]_ (kitchen knife) with the finger. Here was the solution. Rapidly she loosed the child and lowered it to the ground. It took but a moment to open the little dress and expose the breast. Then knife in hand she leaned over it. As she did so the child opened its eyes, smiled, then laughing began to finger her bosom seeking sustenance. The feelings of the mother came over the woman. She put aside the knife to give the babe the breast. Alas! Starvation afforded but scant milk. Failing its supply the child cried peevishly. This last stroke of poverty was too much. The original purpose came back in full sway. With quick motion she put the child beside her and held it firmly down. The sharp pointed knife was thrust clean through the little body. A whimpering cry, the spurting of the blood, and the face began to take on the waxen tint. With the same short energetic movements the mother now sought her own end. Guiding its course with the fingers the knife was now thrust deep into her own throat. Both hands on the heavy handle she tore it downward; then fell forward on the mats. The wardsmen made report. CHAPTER XVI THE AFFAIR OF THE ASAKUSA KWANNON Aoyama Shu[u]zen stalked forward to his cushion near the _ro[u]ka_. Carefully adjusting his robes he scowled--most heavily; mainly at the almost boy crouched before him at the white sand. Expectant the _yakunin_ stood by. Their leader stated the case against this outrageous criminal captured in the dead of night on the very steps of the Jizo[u]do[u], in the very shadow of the great temple of the Asakusa Kwannon. The sacred structure, object of his nefarious design guarded his slumbers; the healing Yakushi Nyo[u]rai, Jizo[u] the god of youth and childhood, casting stony glances of benevolence through the closed lattices. "A most hardened wretch, an evident firebug, and probable thief; at once make full confession of the offence. Thus the torture is to be avoided, the punishment in so far mitigated." The voice was harsh and unrelenting, admitting of no explanation. The look accompanying it was without trace of pity, but full of the official scorn and dislike which would anticipate the turns and doubles of its quarry. The hare in this case but thought how best to meet this unforeseen and disastrous turn to events. He had heard much of the Yakujin--the god of disease and pestilence--under which pet name Aoyama Shu[u]zen was known by a certain element of Edo town. He would tell the truth, with the certainty that in the effort enough lie would slip in to make out a good case. The story at root was a simple one. Great of reputation for beauty and attraction in the Yoshiwara was "Little Chrysanthemum"--Kogiku. In company with friends this Masajiro[u], second son of the wealthy Iwakuniya of Kanda Konyacho[u], (dyers street), had met and loved the _oiran_. He had been favoured in turn by the great lady of the pleasure quarter. Hence the displeasure of his father, who learned the fact by the unanticipated and unpleasant presentation of bills he thought had been settled long before by the diligence of Masajiro[u]. Hence the preceding night, on the boy's return from dalliance with his mistress, he had been summarily turned out.... "Ha! Ah!" roared Shu[u]zen. "A self confessed vagrant; a thief! Gentle the face and wicked the heart it conceals. Plainly a case for the jail and torture. The truth is to be learned. The scourges will bring it out. Make full confession...." A sign, and the attendants with their _madaké_ stood forward. In his terror Masajiro[u] crawled toward the _ro[u]ka_. "Confession! Confession!" he bawled out. With grim smile Shu[u]zen signed a halt. The _do[u]shin_ prepared the scroll. Yes: he had been turned out, but not as vagrant. The mother, so severe in the presence of the father, had fondled and wept over him. The Banto[u] Sho[u]bei had grave and kindly words of admonition. All would be well, and forgiveness follow in time. He was to go at once to his nurse at Koshigeyatsu. Such effects as were needed would follow him. Money he was better without; beyond the little needed for the short journey. The father's anger was not to be aggravated. Soon he would enter for his night's draught, so haste was to be made. Thus he was bundled forth, to make his way in the darkness to the distant country village. The Baya's kind aid in the little conspiracy was assured at sight of her once ward. Overwhelmed with advice and woe he departed into the night, his step growing slower and slower with separation from his home. No money! That meant no Kogiku. The idea of never again seeing her face made his stomach turn. It did turn the direction of his footsteps, which now was toward the Yoshiwara. Kogiku was overjoyed at sight of him. He had but just left her, and now returned to her side. What greater proof of love could she have? The favouritism of the Go-Tayu found favour for her lover's presence. Seated together she soon noticed his gloom, which all her efforts failed to lighten. Somewhat nettled she showed displeasure, charged him with the fickleness of satiation. Then he took her hands, and told her that this was the final interview. His dissipated life, the discovery of their relations, had so angered his father that under sentence of banishment from Edo he had come for a last look at her face. "What's to be done! What's to be done!" The lady wrung her hands in genuine grief over the handsome youth thus torn away. She had welcomed his presence as means of escape from her own difficulties. But a few hours before the master of the Uedaya had announced her sale and transfer to a wealthy farmer of Chiba. Ransomed by this country magnate she was to leave the gay life and glitter of the Yoshiwara, for a country life and the veiled hardships of a farm. In exchange for the twenty years of Masajiro[u]--she obtained this settlement and a master passing fifty odd. She was in despair. The brilliant beauty, thus to sink in a few year's course into a farm wench, felt the sacrifice too great. Finding no aid in the boy lover, long she lay weeping, her head on his knees, hands pressed against her temples. Masajiro[u] was at no happier pass. "Up to the arrow point in love" his idea at bottom had been of a temporary separation. To find another Kogiku, a petted _oiran_, whose fame and beauty flattered any lover, was a stroke of good fortune not likely to occur. His own expression showed how little real idea of separation was in his mind. She noted it. Looking steadily in his face--"Constant the vows of this Kogiku, met by the love of Masa San. No matter how remote the prospect, the bond is that of husband and wife. With this old suburban drake Kogiku pollutes not her charms. Condescend to agree to a mutual suicide. Thus the obligation is avoided. Together the lovers pass to Meido (Hades) to wander its shades until the next and happier existence unites them in the flesh." In amazement and discomfiture Masajiro[u] hung down his head. He would conceal the shock to his boyish timidity this proposal gave. His mind was full of such stories. He knew the earnestness of Kogiku. Then and there would she not draw her dagger to accomplish the deed? He was dreadfully frightened. Never would he have sought her presence, if such result had been anticipated. Now he must accompany her in death, or endure her grudge if successful in escaping her insistence. He temporized. Pointing to his plain disordered garb--"As to that--heartily agreed. But there is a seemliness about such procedure. A more befitting, a holiday costume, is to be sought. Then together, as on a joyful occasion, Masajiro[u] and the Oiran will consummate the vows of husband and wife in a joint death." She looked him over, and was easily pacified by the evident truth and good sense. Again herself, in prospect of this avoidance of the unpleasant future she sought to entertain her lover with all the skill and charm she was so noted for. At midnight he left her, to secure an interview with Sho[u]bei on plea of forgotten needs; then he would return in more fitting garb. His course lay through the now silent precincts of the great temple. More than the sun's circuit passed in these excesses, physical and mental, weighed upon him. He would rest a moment and consider his course amid the holy surroundings. Yakushi? The god was the physical healer in his theology and his services the strong and healthy youth did not need. Jizo[u] Sama, or the six Jizo[u] Sama, but a little way off? Probably the gentle divinity no longer regarded him as under tutelage. But the Lady Merciful--Kwannon Sama--why not make his petition to her? It was an inspiration, and earnest was the prayer which followed it--"Lady of Mercy, deign to regard with pity the unfortunate lovers. Grant that some exit be found for their woes, less harsh than the severance of the vital knot, offence to the Lord Buddha. Kwannon Sama! Kwannon Sama!... may the Buddha's will be done!" As he spoke a heavy object fell from above, to graze his shoulder and land at his feet. He stooped and picked it up. With astonished delight he noted the glittering coin within the bag. Ah! Ah! Away with all ideas of self destruction. Here was the means to escape the guilty consequence. Here was the ransom of Kogiku. He had shuddered at thought of return to the side of that woman, in death to wander the paths of Shidéyama (in Hell) with the unhappy ghost--bald headed! Here now was the solution, in wine and the flesh and blood of the living long-tressed Kogiku, a very different person. His thought now turned to Yoshiwara. But--Naruhodo! Here was a second petitioner at this extraordinary hour. With amazement he saw a girl come flying across the tree and lantern dotted space before the great temple. There was something in gait and manner that he recognized, despite the deep _ko[u]so[u]-zukin_ concealing her features. From the shadow of the steps he sprang forward to confront her. It was so! The face beneath the _zukin_ was that of O'Somé the beloved of his brother Minosuké. The great dye house of the Iwakuniya sent much work to the minor establishment of Aizawaya in Honjo[u]. His brother had such matters in his charge. At sight of Masajiro[u] the face of the sixteen year old O'Somé was dyed like unto the maple. "O'Somé San! Here; and at this hour! Is it some visit to the shrine that in such haste...." In place of answer she wrung her hands and plead to be released. She must die. The river was not far off; there to end her woes. The scandal caused in the affair between herself and Minosuké had brought her to shame. Solemn had been the vows passed between them, tender the acknowledgments. By some retribution from a past existence thus she had found pollution with a beast. The heart yet was pure, and there was nothing to do but die. Deign forthwith to release her. In his amazement he nearly did so. Alas! All these young girls, at least the desirable ones, wanted only to die. To become a divinity by death--_Shingami_--seemed to the feminine brain in youth the height of fashion. Very well: but he would seek to dissuade her. His pockets full of gold the present beauty of O'Somé dimmed the past charms of Kogiku. She yielded to force and his urgency in so far as to accompany him to a refreshment stand just opening with the dawn. The mistress greeted them with kindness and affection. She showed them to an inner room. Here he urged his suit; flight and a home with the devoted nurse at Koshigayatsu. But O'Somé was unwilling. She had been "foxed"--herself was but a mere moor-fox. Deign to leave her to her own sad fate. It was the brother that she loved. Since she was deprived of him, she would seek the embraces only of the waters of the river. She urged and plead so prettily that her sadness and gloom entered into his own heart. She should be his companion. Kogiku in despite would join them. Thus the three together would find comfort in the shadow land of Meido. He gave up all attempt to persuade the girl. Briefly and almost harshly--"Be it so. Then we will die together. This Masajiro[u] is under contract to die; and too tired to walk so far to find a partner. Condescend to await the night. Then we will take the shortest course to the river." To this O'Somé joyfully agreed. The day was passed in such harmless dalliance and favour as a young girl can show, who has had her own way; with a young man willing to dispense with thought during the intervening space of time before a not overly agreeable ending; and under the auspices of an honoured hostess fee'd by the glitter of coin into a consenting obtuseness. With the night they set forth in the rain. The river bank was not far off, but such vulgar plunge from the edge of the coarse promiscuity of Hanagawado[u] was not to the taste of either. Then, as now, a ferry not far from the Adzuma bridge crossed to the pretty sounding "Eight hundred Pines." _Yashiki_ then surrounded, a palace to-day covers the site. They watched the ferryman pushing off into the river's darkness. Then hand in hand they strolled up the bank of the stream, under the gloomy trees, seeking the favoured spot of their undoing. Suddenly O'Somé stopped; sank at the feet of Masajiro[u]. His hand sought the handle of the dagger. The weapon raised he was about to plunge it into the tender neck. Then a shout startled his ear. "Rash youths--Wait! Wait!" A powerful grasp was on his arm. With a shiver he came to consciousness. O'Somé, the river, the bag of gold in his bosom, all had disappeared. He was lying on the steps of the Jizo[u]do[u], surrounded by the _yakunin_. All had been a dream! With open mouths the _yakunin_ in the court looked at each other. Lo! They had nabbed a mere dreamer. How would his lordship take it? One more quick witted and thirstier than the rest answered for all--"Ha! Ah! A wretched fellow! Not only thief and firebug, but murderer also!" To the astonished and stammering protest of Masajiro[u] there was the answering scowl of a very Emma Dai-O[u] on the bench. "Miserable wretch! What is in the heart at best comes to the lips. This matter is to be sifted to the dregs, the witnesses examined. For offence so far disclosed he can take the lash. Then off with him to the jail." Masajiro[u], his back torn to ribbons and bloody with the fifty blows, was supported out of the court. Then the wine cup was condescended to the energy and acuteness of his captors. Enlivened by the morning's entertainment and his own big cup Aoyama Shu[u]zen rose and departed. CHAPTER XVII EMMA DAI-O[U] GIVES JUDGMENT Great was the excitement and lamentable the experience of the Aizawaya. The matter of O'Somé had been under discussion with the Iwakuniya. Beyond good words and cold courtesy little satisfaction could be obtained; nor could it be expected. The offence had been the work of a fox, and the jewel of a girl's reputation had been trodden in the mire. Returned to the saddened home, the nurse of O'Somé was found awaiting them. At the news she had hastened from the country to console her old mistress and to take her one time charge in her arms. "Alas! Alas! Is the matter so beyond remedy? Surely with a good dower the Iwakuniya...."--"'Tis no such affair," answered the mistress, wiping away her tears. "As fact the girl is a wretched wench, disregardless of the parents. The little fool fell madly in love with the figure of the eldest son of the dye-shop. It seems that daily she made pilgrimage and prayer to the Ushi no Gozen, to the Gentoku Inari. What more malign influence could be invoked! One day Minosuké came on a mission to the shop. She followed him to the street, and for hours her whereabouts was unknown, until this return in disgrace. Accompanying him to Asakusa, there she exchanged vows and pillows with him at a convenient assignation house. Alas! On the return he was taken with a fit in the street. The prior of the Kido-ku-In, the great priest of the Shu[u]genja (Yamabushi), was passing. His aid invoked, at once he recognized the rascal's disguise. Under the charms recited by the priest the true appearance was assumed, and a huge fox with a long tail darted away from the gathered crowd. No reputation has the girl gained by consorting with such a mate." The nurse listened with amazed horror, turning first to the mother, then intently regarding the damasked face of O'Somé, dyed red at the story of her shame. "Oya! Oya! Possessed by a fox! Alas! Truly it is almost irreparable. If it were mere defloration by the young master of Iwakuniya, that could be endured. But a fox mixed up in the matter.... Truly it would be well to take her off somewhere, to some hot spring in Idzu. There the influence can be removed, and O'Somé San at least restored in mind." With this advice and gossip, with whispered consolation and laughing cheer--"'Tis no great matter after all; in the country--will be found girls a'plenty, quite as lucky or otherwise"--the kind and jovial dame took her leave. The advice as to the hot spring seemed so good that preparations were under way in all haste. The straw baskets with their convenient deep covers to fit the larger or smaller needs of travel (_ko[u]ri_), the _furoshiki_ or large square wrapping cloths, lay in the middle of the room, amid the pile of wraps and clothing for daily and more formal use. Skilled hands of maids and youths (_wakashu[u]-kozo[u]_) employed in the house were fast packing these latter into convenient parcels. Then to the hustle and bustle within the house was added the more unusual murmur of voices and tread of many feet without. The house owner (_ienushi_), accompanied by the head of the house block (_gumigashira_), entered in haste. Close at their heels followed the land owner (_jinushi_), the two bails (_jiuki_ and _tanauki_). All looked with surprise and suspicion at these hurried preparations for departure. "Oya! Oya! This will never do. Honoured Sir of Aizawaya, the _yakunin_ are now at hand from the office of Aoyama Sama. Your daughter in summoned to the white sand. Remove at once these signs of what looks like a flight." Eyes agog the frightened parents watched their neighbours and the servants hustle goods and parcels into the closets. They had hardly done so when the _do[u]shin_, followed by several constables, burst into the room. "The girl Somé, where is she? Don't attempt to lie, or conceal her whereabouts." Eyes ferreting everywhere, the parents too frightened to move, the _yakunin_ soon entered, dragging along the weeping O'Somé. "Heigh! Heigh! The rope! At once she is to be bound and dragged before the honoured presence." Amid the bawling and the tumult at last the father found opportunity to make himself heard. He prostrated himself at the feet of the _do[u]shin_, so close to O'Somé that the process of binding and roping necessarily included his own ample person. "Deign, honoured official, to forbear the rope. There is no resistance. The girl is very young, and ill. We accompany her to the presence of his lordship." Weeping he preferred the request. Iyenushi, Jinushi, Gumi-gashira, in pity added their own petition to the officer. This latter surveyed the slight figure of this fearful criminal. Besides, notoriously she had been foxed. He grumbled and conceded. "The rope can be forborne; not so as to the hands, which must be securely tied to prevent escape. The affair is most important. Delay there cannot be. His lordship is not to be kept waiting." Then he swept them all into his net. _Do[u]shin_, _Yakunin_, _Jinushi_, _Iyenushi_, _Gumi-gashira_, _Ban-gashira_, _Jiuki_, _Tanauki_, debtors, creditors, all and every in the slightest degree connected with the Aizawaya fell into the procession. But Edo town was growing used to these. 'Twas merely another haul of the active officers of the honoured Yakujin. "Kimyo[u] Cho[u]rai"--may the Buddha's will be done, but spare this Taro[u]bei, Jizaémon, Tasuké, or whoever the petitioner chanced to be. Aoyama Shu[u]zen stalked slowly forward to the _ro[u]ka_. Scowling he ran his eye over the crowd, taking in each and every. Then his eyes fell--first on Kogiku, the harlot of the Uedaya; then on the shrinking beauty of O'Somé of the Aizawaya. Shu[u]zen was improving in these days. The Ue-Sama (Sho[u]gun) spoke harshly of those retainers who made no provision for issue to support loyally the fortune of his House. Let him who would seek his lord's favour furnish forth such noble and lusty issue as in the Kamakura days, when Ho[u]jo[u] Tokimasa, Wada Yoshimori Hatakeyama Shigetada, the Kajiwara, Miura, Doi, attended the hunting field of their suzerain followed by a dozen lusty heirs of the line--direct and indirect. Hence of late Shu[u]zen had renewed his matrimonial venture, and taken to his bed a second partner. For side issue and attendance on his household affairs, his office was a fruitful field. The families of those condemned suffered with them, and the more favoured served in Aoyama's household, in all offices, from that of ladies in waiting to menial service--down to the _yatsuho[u]ko[u]nin_. These latter, slaves for life, were more fortunate than their sisters _yatsu yu[u]jo[u]_, who were condemned to be sold for life service as harlots in the Yoshiwara. It was a hard law; but it was the law of the Tokugawa, of before the days of the ruling House. Shu[u]zen profited greatly by it in the domestic sense. The harlot and the girl budding into womanhood would be acceptable addition to the companionship of his then bachelor existence. His manner softened as he took his seat. His robes were more carefully adjusted. His cue bristled more erect. He was strikingly good looking. Dismissing all minor offenders he took up at once the great case of the day. The wretched Masajiro[u], his back bloodily marked by the scourge, was crouching in shame at the white sand before him. Shu[u]zen gave him one savage glare, which added terror to his confusion before those once friends and relations. Then Shu[u]zen began carefully and insistently to scan the faces of the girls. They were well worth attention. O'Somé, sixteen and a beauty, had these aids to her other charms--a _kimono_ of the fine striped silk of Izu, made in the neighbouring island of Hachijo[u] by girls well fitted themselves to give grace to the beautiful tissue, an _obi_ (sash) of fawn and scarlet into which was woven the shadowy figure, here and there, of a landscape--sketchy but suggestive. The belt which girded it within was of egg coloured crape, and the orange tissue broadened and hung down to add its touch of carefully contrasted colour. The hair was built high in the _taka-shimada_ style, tied on top with a five coloured knot of thick crape. The combs and other hair ornaments were beautiful, and befitting the cherished daughter of the well-to-do townsman. Then Shu[u]zen's look wandered to the harlot. Kogiku, Little Chrysanthemum, was noted in Edo town. Her beauty was more experienced, but hardly more mature than that of the town girl. Sedately she met the look, and without movement eyes plead smilingly for gentle treatment. She was dressed[19] in a robe of gauzy water coloured silk. The sleeves were widely patterned--as with her class--but worked with rare harmony into the light grey colour of the robe. The long outer robe thrown over the inner garment (_uchikaku_) in these brilliant colours, in its tamer shades yet harmonized. Taken with the broad sash of the _obi_ it made her rival the peacock in his grandest display. Her hair dressed high, was a bewildering harmony of the costly tortoise shell combs and pins (_kanzashi_) arrayed in crab-like eccentricity. The gold ornamentation glistened and sparkled amid the dark tresses. Truly Shu[u]zen was puzzled in this claim for priority between the unrivalled beauty and the fresher and naiver charms of inexperience. Ah! Both should be the cup-bearers. But the sequel! Benten Sama alone could guide the lot. It was ordered that the confession be read. Once more the judge, Shu[u]zen carefully watched the faces before him of those most concerned. It was not difficult to detect amid the confusion of O'Somé, the growing wrath of Kogiku, an unfeigned astonishment. With some satisfaction he noted this evident discrepancy in the plea. Suave, yet still somewhat harsh, he addressed O'Somé. "The confession of this wicked fellow has been heard. What has Somé to say in answer thereto." For a moment the girl raised her head to that of this Emma Dai-O[u]. Then in confusion she half turned as seeking support--"Mother! Mother!" It was all she could say in her fright, and more than the mother could stand. She was the townswoman; self-assured in her way. She boldly advanced a knee. "With fear and respect: the girl is but of sixteen years, and the white sand has paralysed her thought and utterance. Deign, honoured lord, to pardon the mother's speech." Then she went into details as to the late unfortunate occurrence. With indignant looks at the crushed and unfortunate Masajiro[u], she gave her own testimony which rang with truth. "Well he knows all this matter. For the past six days the girl has not left home or parents caring for her afflicted body. 'Tis only this fellow Masajiro[u] who claims to be the lover, to take the place of his brother Minosuké; a poor exchange in either case, with fellows who do but run after the harlots of Yoshiwara, to the bewitching of innocent girls." Tenderly she took the now weeping O'Somé in her mother arms, and added her own tears to the soothing. Shu[u]zen slowly leaked a smile. He left the pair to themselves and turned to Kogiku. "And you?" Kogiku was not so easily confused. Readily she confessed to the contract between herself and Masajiro[u]. "This affair of the rich purchaser from Kazusa came up suddenly. There seemed no outlet but suicide--if the dreary life away from Edo was to be avoided." Shu[u]zen took her up harshly--"Bound to the Uedaya for a term of years then you would cheat your master out of the money he expended on you. This is theft, and most reprehensible. For such it is hard to find excuse." His roughness puzzled and frightened even the experience of Kogiku. She became confused. Shu[u]zen was satisfied with the impression. He was unwilling further to delay his own prospects. Sending the matter over to the next sitting for final settlement he remanded all the accused--Masajiro[u] to the jail and repeated scourgings for the lies contained in his confession; the girls to his own care. His experiences for the time being would largely condition the final judgment. Shu[u]zen was regular in his irregularities. Promptly, the case again convened, he gave judgment. There was none of the customary roughness in his manner. Even the official harshness was smoothed down. He dilated on the importance of the case, the necessity of making an example of this evident depravity of manners and morals affecting Edo town--"As for the girl Somé, it is matter of question with whom she is involved, Masajiro[u] or Minosuké; both well could be her lovers. Thus she has fallen under strange influences and been foxed. Such a girl is not to be allowed to wander at random. As act of benevolence henceforth charge is continued as in the present conditions. Kogiku is still more reprehensible. The attempt to cheat her master being so brazenly confessed is hard to overlook. Owing to her previous life perhaps the feelings have become blunted. The same benevolence and punishment is awarded to her--with hope of future amendment." The master of the Uedaya, crouching close to his head clerk made a wry face. The two men exchanged glances, and the clerk opened a very big round eye for his master to observe. The latter sighed. Continued Shu[u]zen severely--"As for this Masajiro[u], he is not only liar, but would-be firebug and thief. What is harboured in the mind he would put into deed. It is but chance which has saved the life and purse of the passing citizen, and the sacred structures from the flames. To him the severest punishment is meet. However benevolence shall still hold its sway. Instead of the sword, banishment to the islands for the term of life, to serve as slave therein to the Eta--such his sentence. To this judgment there is no appeal." Abruptly he rose. The weeping father and mother were baffled by the nonchalance of the daughter, who had no chance to give them comfort, but was at once removed in company with the willing lady of pleasure and experience. The huddled form of Masajiro[u] was hustled roughly out with the kicks and blows to which he was becoming accustomed. Two or three years, under the rough charge of his new masters, were pretty sure to witness his body cast out on the moorland to the kites--or into the sea for fishes to knaw. It was the _banto[u]_ (clerk), faint with the hunger of long waiting, who led the parents into the first cook shop encountered on the way. Here over greens and cold water the father sighed, the mother wept apart, the clerk eyed biliously the meagre fare. Then in poured the company of Kogiku--a noisy, merry crowd. There were expressions of amused discomfiture, caught by the sharp ears of the clerk; suggestive references. He watched them; heard the lavish orders for food and wine--"Plenty of wine, and piping hot"--"Respectfully heard and understood." The waiting girls were at their wit's end. The feast in progress the _banto[u]_ came boldly forward. "Honoured sirs, deign to note these parents here, deprived of their daughter. Your honoured selves have lost a girl of much value to your master. How is it then that you thus deign to rejoice? Plainly the grief of these must be out of place." The man addressed more directly looked him over coldly; then cast an eye on the distressed father and mother, at their meagre fare. His manner changed. He became more cordial. "Good sir, the affair is not to be taken thus! Sentence has been given, but...." He laughed--"it can be revoked. Already in the inner room the master is in consultation with the agent of Takai Yokubei San (Mr. Highly Covetous), Aikawa Dono,--the honoured _yo[u]nin_ of Aoyama Sama. A round bribe, and the girl will be released...." The words were not out of his mouth when the father was on his feet. Led by the _banto[u]_ he made the rounds of all--pimps, bawds, and bouncers--soliciting their influence--"Honoured gentlemen of the Yoshiwara, deign to interfere in the matter, to plead with the master of the Uedaya. House, lands, goods, all these are nothing if the cherished daughter be restored." He wept; and they took pity on his inexperience. The first speaker at once sprang up and went to the inner room. The master of the Uedaya cordially desired their presence. Added funds were no drawback to his own petition in the dealings with Yokubei San. The parents introduced he told them--"It is but a matter of cash. Kogiku, within the next three days, must be delivered to the _go[u]shi_ of Kazusa, or else a large forfeit paid. She can kill herself on the day following. 'Tis no affair of the Uedaya. Add your gift of a hundred _ryo[u]_ to the bribe of the Uedaya, and Saisuké San, here present, can assure success. Aikawa Dono surely has not left the court. He awaits report, with as great anxiety as your honoured selves. As for the Tono Sama, he has had the presence of the girls for the six days, and will be all the more easily worked on. But from all accounts the honoured daughter had little to lose in the experience. She would make a splendid Go-Tayu." Seeing no sign of acquiescence he shrugged his shoulders, and continued to the honoured Saisuké San--"A most annoying affair: a hundred _ryo[u]_ to this shark, and only the premium and the debts of the _oiran_ will be paid. But he will take no less?... Be sure she shall learn the use of the _seméba_ (punishment cell) before she finds her new master." Saisuké San with slow smile made answer--"Be sure that by night she will be in your hands, ready for the experience." Rejoicing the parents gave thanks, and betook themselves to their home. Half ruined, again O'Somé would gladden their hearts. But the mother had an eye to the expense, and promised a reception hardly better than that awaiting Little Chrysanthemum. Why show favouritism? There was small difference between the two. But this the father energetically denied. Meanwhile Aoyama Shu[u]zen was preparing for his wine feast, one of a pleasant succession extended over this interval. With misgiving and no pleasure he saw the entrance of Aikawa Chu[u]dayu. The chamberlain brought with him the account books. Shu[u]zen's experience, however, noted past profit as salve to annoyance. He was a bitter hard man in domestic administration; cutting down food, and by fines the wages, of those more regularly employed in the household. This made the threatened loss of women serving by compulsion the more severe. Chu[u]dayu knew how to deal with his master. Affairs in the household were not going well, under the free indulgence of Shu[u]zen toward himself and his pleasures. Besides he was about to deprive him of his new favourites. At a sign Kogiku and O'Somé, already present by the lord's favour, withdrew. The younger girl had aged ten years in experience with this companionship of the week. Chu[u]dayu watched them depart. Then sighed heavily. "Ah! Ha! So it's _that_." Shu[u]zen moved testily, as sharply he regarded his satellite. "Acting under the instructions of your lordship, the box of cakes has duly been received from Saisuké. The affairs of the household require a large sum. Her ladyship's confinement is to be considered, the entertainments required by custom for the expected heir. To return the gift means to your lordship--the sacrifice of two hundred _ryo[u]_. May the Tono Sama deign to consider a moment. Such double good fortune is rare--and the messenger waits upon this trifling sacrifice of a pleasure for which substitutes easily can be found." He drew the _furoshiki_ from the box. Shu[u]zen sighed; but did not hesitate. "Hasten Saisuké off at once; with the exchange." He placed the box in a closet close by. "As for the wine feast, Chu[u]dayu shall be the cup-bearer. Shu[u]zen is in an ill humour." He had an ugly look. Chu[u]dayu, however, did not draw back. Leaning forward with a smile--"This Chu[u]dayu would make report, to the pleasure of the Tono Sama."--"Of what?" asked Aoyama, in some surprise at his chamberlain's earnest manner. "Of the whereabouts and close proximity of Kosaka Jinnai."--"Ah!" The tone of voice had the depth of years of expectant hate. CHAPTER XVIII KOSAKA JINNAI When Takéda Shingen swept down upon the lower provinces in 1571, fought a rear guard action at Mikatagahara, in which he nearly extinguished Tokugawa Iyeyasu, with a taste of the latter's remarkable powers of recuperation, he went on to his real aim of a trial of strength with the main Oda forces in Mikawa and O[u]mi. The great captain lost his life by a stray bullet before Noda castle. His death for long kept secret, until the northern forces had withdrawn into the fastnesses of Kai, the war languished, to be renewed with greater activity under the rash and ignorant leadership of his son. Katsuyori and his tribe cut belly at Temmoku-zan, the last and successful bid of Iyeyasu against his former enemies. Then the Tokugawa standard was planted from Suruga to Mikawa, and Iyeyasu became indisputably the first of Nobunaga's vassals--and one never thoroughly trusted. Among the twenty-four captains of Takéda Shingen was a Kosaka Danjo[u] no Chu[u]den. His son Heima inherited the devotion, as well as the fief, of the father. Unlike many of the Takéda vassals in Kai he clung to Katsuyori Ko[u] through all the bad weather of that unlucky prince. Kai was no longer a safe place for vassals true to the native House. Better luck could be assured with the old enemies, the Uesugi in the North. But Heima would not seek other service than that of his once lord. He only sought a place to live. When the ex-soldier appeared with his wife in the village of Nishi-Furutsuka at the base of Tsukuba, the people thereabouts had more than strong suspicion that he who came so quietly into their midst was not of their kind. However his presence was accepted. His willingness to take up farm labour and another status, to become a _go[u]shi_ or gentleman farmer, his valued aid and leadership in the troubled times which followed, were much appreciated. The year 1599 found the old fox Iyeyasu Ko[u] planted in Edo castle; and Jisuké, as Heima now called himself, leaning over the cradle of a boy just born--a very jewel. Jisuké's wife was now over forty years in age. Hence this unexpected offspring was all the dearer. In the years there had been losses and distress. The new-comer surely was the gift from the Kwannondo[u] nestled on the slopes of the mountain far above the village. To the Lady Merciful many the prayers for such aid. The child grew and prospered. A farmer's boy, yet he was the _bushi's_ son; made plain in every action. Under the tutelage of the priests of the neighbouring Zen temple he learned all that they chose to teach, far outstripped his fellows, and in class room and in sport was their natural leader. Sport was the better test. With years Jinnosuké tired of the clerical teaching. The leader of the village band he was its mainstay in the wars with boys of rival hamlets thereabouts. These were soon driven away, and their own precincts invaded at will. The mountain became distinctively the property of Jinnosuké and his youthful companions, whose whole sport was devoted to mimic warfare. Their leader, thus unchallenged, became more and more reckless; more and more longed to distinguish himself by some feat beyond mere counterfeit war. One day, under his direction, in the storming of the hill which represented the enemy's castle, much brushwood and dried leaves were gathered. "Now then! Set the fire! The foe, blinded by the smoke, perishes under our blows. On! On!" The other children eagerly obeyed. The blazing mass towered up and up. The trees now were on fire. The wind blowing fiercely drove the fire directly on to the Kwannondo[u], which stood for the citadel of the besieged. Soon the temple itself was in flames. Greatly excited the boys swarmed amid the smoke and confusion as if in real battle. "Now--for the plunder!" At Jinnosuké's order the furniture of the temple was made the object of loot, heaped up at a safe distance for future division. Thus engaged loud shouts met their ears. In fright the band of youngsters turned to meet the presence of the enraged incumbent, the _do[u]mori_. The temple was his charge and residence. His small necessities were supplied by visits to the villages below. "Oi! Oi! wretched little villains! Thus to fire the temple in your sport is most scandalous. Surely your heads shall be wrung off--one by one. Terrible the punishment--from Heaven and the Daikwan."[20] The boys in confusion began to slink away. Then the voice of Jinnosuké rose above the tumult. "On! On! This priest stinks of blood. Be not cowards! The commander of the castle would frighten with words. 'Tis he who is afraid. It is his part to cut belly in defeat and die amid the ruins." In a trice the whole pack had faced around. Boldly with staves they set upon the priest. Numbers brought him helpless to the ground. There was a large stone lying close by. Heaving it to his shoulder Jinnosuké stood over the prostrate man. "According to rule the matter is thus to be conducted. This fellow is to be given the finishing stroke; then buried in the castle ruins." He cast down the heavy block with all his force. The priest's brains were spattered on the ground. Under the direction of Jinnosuké the body with feebly twitching limbs was thrown into the now blazing mass of the temple. Then forming in line, and raising the shout of victory, the youthful band of heroes marched off to the village. Under pain of his displeasure--which meant much--Jinnosuké forbade any bragging or reference to the affair. Wisely: a day or two after a peasant came on the scene. In fright the man hastened to make report. At once buzz was most tremendous. Was it accident or the work of thieves, this disaster? Said one man sagely--"The _do[u]mori_ was a great drunkard. Deign to consider. The temple furniture is untouched. Thieves would have carried it off. He carried it out to safety, to fall a victim in a further attempt at salvage. The offence lies with the priest, not with the villagers." The report pleased all, none too anxious to offend the bands of robbers ranging the mountain mass and the neighbouring villages. Thus report was made by the village council to the Daikwan's office. The temple authorities had a severe reprimand for allowing such a drunkard to be in charge of the shrine. Jinnosuké stuck his tongue in his cheek. "Trust to the valour and skill of this Jinnosuké. These constables are fools." But his companions were a little frightened with this late exploit. Their numbers fell off. Many of them now came to the age fit for farm work. Jinnosuké was not long in finding substitutes in the real thieves who haunted the neighbourhood. Their spy, and often engaged in their raids, yet in his own district he was only known as a bad and dissipated boy. Something of this had to come to the ears of Jisuké; but not the full extent of his son's wickedness. He sought a remedy for what he thought mere wild behaviour. Now in the town, years ago, there had lived a poor farmer and his wife; "water drinkers," in the local expression for bitter poverty. The man laboured at day tasks, and the wife laboured as hard with him, bearing her baby girl on her back. Jisuké aided as he could, and as was his wont, and when the pair were taken down and died with a prevailing epidemic disease, it was Jisuké and his wife who took the child to themselves, to bring her up as their own. O'Ichi San grew into a beautiful girl, and at this time Jisuké and his wife trusted to her favour and influence to bring Jinnosuké to the sedateness and regularity of a farmer's life. The girl blushed and looked down as she listened to what was more than request, though put in mildest form. "One so humble is hardly likely to please the young master. Filial duty bids this Ichi to obey, and yield her person at command." The mother was more than gratified at the assent and modesty--"Dutiful you have always been. We parents have no eyes. The whole matter is left to you. If Jinnosuké can be taken by your person, perchance he will devote his time to home and the farm work, now so irksome to his father. Where he goes in these long absences is not known; they can be for no good purpose." Thus the arrangement was made. The girl now busied herself about and with Jinnosuké. She was the one to attend to all his comforts, to await his often late return. Thus used to her he soon began to look on her with anything but brotherly eyes. Was she not the daughter of old Taro[u]bei, the water drinker? He knew the story well. Thus one night he took O'Ichi to himself. She pleased him--as with the parents. No objection was anywhere raised to the connection; a village of Nippon has cognizance of such matters; and in short order public notice was given of the marriage. The influence was not of long duration. With his wife's pregnancy Jinnosuké disappeared. From the age of thirteen years he had been hand in glove with all the rough fellows of the district. These were stirring times in the south. There was something to pick up. After all was not he a _samurai's_ son. Jinnosuké was too late for action. Although but seventeen years old his short sturdy and astonishingly active frame and skill with weapons was a welcome addition to the band that Ogita Kuro[u]ji had gathered after the fall of O[u]saka-jo[u]. Now Jinnosuké figured as Kosaka Jinnai. Here first he came in contact with the law and Aoyama Shu[u]zen. On this failure he betook himself at once to the disguise of his native village; to enter it as quietly as if he never had left it, to find himself the father of a baby girl, Kikujo[u], and to procreate another on his patient wife. But before this second girl, O'Yui, was born Jinnosuké, as the village still knew him, had again disappeared. This was in strict accordance with his principle, of which something is to be said. Of these O[u]saka _ro[u]nin_, determined not to take another master, there were three Jinnai. In council over past failure, said Tomizawa Jinnai.[21] "The ambition of this Tomizawa?" He laughed. Jinnai was no distinctive term in this gathering. "It is to collect all the beautiful costumes of Nippon."--"Admirable indeed!" chimed in Sho[u]ji Jinnai (or Jinémon, as he called himself). "But why stop at the surface? As you know, the ambition of this Sho[u]ji had long been to see gathered together all the most beautiful women of Nippon. And you, Kosaka?"--"To see all distinction done away with between other men's property and my own."--"Splendid indeed! But don't poach on our ground." The two others clapped their hands and laughed. Kosaka Jinnai did not. "Well then--to put the matter to the test," said he callously. Tomizawa Jinnai forthwith took up the collection of old clothing and costumes of divers sorts. He can be said to be the ancestor of the old clothes trade of Edo--To[u]kyo[u]; and the Tomizawacho[u] at Ningyo[u]cho[u] no Yokocho[u], the place of his residence, is his memorial. To this day it is a centre for old clothes shops. Sho[u]ji Jinnai pressed the petition he had once put in (Keicho[u] 17th year--1612) as Jinémon before being finally convinced of the righteousness of a Tokugawa world. He was lucky enough to find oblivion and reward in the permit for a harlot quarter. As its bailiff (_nanushi_) he assembled three thousand beautiful women for the service of the Yoshiwara, then at Fukiyacho[u] near Nihonbashi, and of which O[u]mondori is the chief relic. Kosaka Jinnai, under such encouragement and auspices, betook himself more vigorously than ever to robbery; enhanced by a mighty idea which the years gradually brought to ripeness in his mind. From being a sandal bearer Hidéyoshi the Taiko[u] had risen to rule. He, Jinnai, would emulate the example and rise to rule from being a bandit. He was not, and would not be, the only one of the kind in the political world. Hence his wide travels through the provinces, his seeking out all the most desperate and villainous characters, for he had "trust" in few others, his weaving together of a vast conspiracy of crime, not to be equalled in any time but the closing days of the Ashikaga Sho[u]gunate--and that not so far off. Of this period of Jinnai's life there is a tale to relate. CHAPTER XIX A MATTER OF PEDESTRIANISM Up to the very recent days of Meiji the precincts of the Shiba San-en-zan Zo[u]jo[u]ji, now known more particularly as the most accessible of the burial places of the Tokugawa Sho[u]gun, were an excellent example of the old monastic establishments. The main temple with its wide grounds was completely girdled by a succession of halls or monastic foundations, some of which were famed through the land for their theological teaching of the principles of the Jo[u]do[u] sect. Conspicuous among these were the Tenjingatani and the Mushigatani, seminaries widely sought for the erudition of the professors. In all nearly three thousand students attended the halls, with an eye to an ecclesiastical future. On the dawn of a cold winter morning a priestly clad man, a _shoké_ or one of the lowest clerical order, mainly notable for the vastness and robustness of his proportions, could have been seen leaving the gate of the Tokucho[u]-in. His size alone would have attracted attention, for the mouse coloured _kimono_, the white leggings and mitts (_tekko[u]_), the double soled _waraji_ (sandals) fastened on a pair of big feet, were usual travelling equipment of his kind, made sure by the close woven _ajiro_ or mushroom hat covering his head; admirable shelter against heat in summer, and a canopy--umbrella like--against falling snow in winter. By somewhat devious route he strode along a narrow lane, crossed the Gokurakubashi and halted before the Chu[u]mon on the broad avenue leading up to the temple. A glance thither satisfied him for a leave-taking, which yet displayed some sentiment. A few moments carried him without the entrance gate, and but few more saw him crossing Kanésujibashi, evidently on some long tramp, if the steady swing of a practised walker, in no haste and conserving his strength, is any test. The road in those days passed through a long succession of village houses, the _cho[u]_ of Shiba village, broken very occasionally by a _yashiki_ wall. It was not until he reached the barrier at Takanawa, Kurumacho[u], that he came full out on the bay just lighting up with the coming day--a beautiful stretch of water, now spoiled by the ugliness of the railway and the filling in which has turned the haunt of thousands of wild fowl into a prairie, soon to be covered by hideous factories and other sites of man's superfluous toil. Close by the little saddle at Shinagawa, now a railway cutting, a stream came into the bay from the west. On the bridge the priest Dentatsu stopped for a moment. Throughout, from the time of leaving Kanésujibashi, he had had a feeling of being followed. Now he determined to get a good look at his pursuer, it was not particularly satisfying. "Iya! An ill looking chap--with an eye like a knife." The object of these remarks had halted with him, at the further side of the bridge. He was contemplating the water with one eye, the priest with the other. A short sturdy man of forty odd years, Dentatsu noted the good but thin upper garment, the close fitting leggings, the well chosen _waraji_, the copper handled dagger in his girdle. Furthermore he noted a cold decision in the glance of the eye that he liked least of all in the fellow's equipment. This was a man he would not choose for companion--"Bah! Short Legs, this Dentatsu will soon leave your stumps in the rear. A little speed, and this doubtful fellow is left behind beyond hope." So off started his reverence at the full pace of his huge legs and really great endurance. Through O[u]mori and Kamata, crossing in the same boat at the Rokugo ferry, through Kawasaki and Tsurumigi--totsu-totsu-totsu the stranger's legs kept easy pace with those of the priest. "A most extraordinary fellow," thought Dentatsu. "He moves as on springs. It would be well to settle matters at once with him." Halting he waited for this pursuer to close up the few score feet maintained between them. His frowning manner had a genial greeting. "Ah! Ha! Truly the Go Shukké Sama[22] is no mean walker. But even then company on the road is good. From the Zo[u]jo[u]ji; by that _kesa_ (stole), dress, and carriage? Probably the honoured priest has a long journey before him--to the capital?" Dentatsu duly scanned his company--"To the Chion-In, the parent temple, and none too fond of companionship on the road. Deign, good sir, to spare yours; with such short legs the task of precedence would be out of the question. Drop the useless effort of this pursuit, which becomes an annoyance." Dentatsu's manner was truculent, his grasp on his stick even threatening. The fellow met this rough greeting with the suavest determination. "Oya! Oya! Naruhodo, Go Shukké Sama! A very rude speech indeed! After all the highway is free to all, and I too travel the To[u]kaido[u] toward the capital. Deign to grant your company and the entertainment will be all the better. Don't be deceived by length, or lack of length, in one's legs. The promise will be kept not to detain you.... That you came from Zo[u]jo[u]ji is plain from your garb, if you had not been seen to turn into To[u]kaido[u] from the temple avenue.... I too travel Kyo[u]to way.... See! In our talk already Hodogaya town is passed. This climb.... here is the top of the Yakimochizaka. The mark stands here to bound Sagami and Musashi. Ha! Ha! The Go Shukké Sama has splendid legs, but he is handicapped by his weight. Surely it cannot be less than two thousand _ryo[u]_ in coin that he carries in the pack on his shoulders. That contains no bills on the Sho[u]shidai (Governor) of the capital." Ah! The matter now was fully lighted. The fellow then had known his mission from Zo[u]jo[u]ji to the parent temple, to remit this sum to the capital. Dentatsu had not anticipated difficulty so early in his journey, nor did he much care for the contest which was offered him. He judged the man by his legs, and these were almost miraculous in swiftness, activity, and strength. "Alas! A dangerous fellow indeed. The luck of this Dentatsu is bad. What now is to be done?" The cold sweat at his responsibility gently bedewed his forehead. Yet Dentatsu was a brave man. The tradesman--or robber--laughed lightly. "Don't look so queer, so put out, honoured Shukké Sama. Truth is told in saying there is business on To[u]kaido[u]. Even if highwayman, the last thing thought of would be to meddle with the funds of the honoured Hotoké Sama (Buddha). Be reassured; and as such be more assured in having a companion. The coin? Pure guess, and from the small size of the parcel and the evident difficulty found in carrying it. It weighs too much on one shoulder. Trust not only the thief, but the trader to know the signs of cash.... You would breakfast at Totsuka town? Did they send you forth with empty belly? Surely the monastery kitchen has no such reputation for stinginess among the vulgar." His manner was so reassuring that Dentatsu gained confidence in him and his profession. Gladly now he accepted this failure to relieve him of his precious burden, and this offer of company. He resented however the reflection on the monastery kitchen--"Not so! Nor is this foolish priest so at odds with the cook as not to find a bit of mountain whale (flesh) in the soup. Repletion is the aim and object of a monastic existence."--"Ha! Ha! Ha!" laughed the fellow. "Yet the honoured Shukké Sama would breakfast so close to Edo town! Good sir, deign to leave the matter to me. Both are in haste--you to the capital; I almost as far.... This Fujisawa is a wondrous place. As priest you know its temple and its wandering prior, the precious relics of the Hangwan, but the woman Teruté of course the priest despises; yet Oguri owed much to her--life and success in his vendetta. Besides in a copse, just over yonder hill, is the shrine of the other Hangwan--Yoshitsuné. A prayer to his head there buried brings success in warlike adventure, no great affair for cleric or tradesman.... Already the Banyu[u] ferry is close at hand. Surely if we would reach Sumpu (Shizuoka) this day there can be no lunching short of Odawara town." Dentatsu would have stopped short, if such halt had not involved the rapid disappearance of this elastic and now entertaining companion. As it was both had to slow pace to let him get breath taken away by pure amazement. "Odawara town! Sumpu before night! Tradesman, have you gone mad? To Sumpu it is full forty-eight _ri_ (120 miles). You talk like a fool. Who is there, to walk such a stage in a day?"--"The honoured Shukké Sama and this tradesman. In talk and argument the ground flies under the feet of such walkers, and the promise to keep pace will be maintained. Just see--this is Kodzu town; yonder the waters of Sakawagawa. 'Tis early yet, but time can be spared for food. For exercise belly timber is needed. A good lining of wine and food to the inwards is the tonic to more talk and exertion. Now in with you, to this broad space leading to the castle--the keep of O[u]kubo Kaga no Kami, with his hundred thousand _koku_ and the trust of the suzerain worth all his other honours. Ah! Here is the eight roofed Minoya, best of its kind in the town. And what a town. Between wine, food, and singing girls, one loiters as long as a second Odawara conference; at times to one's ruin.... Ah! Ha! A stop for the mid-day meal. Ne[e]san, no more delay than needed. Speed is urgent, yet food and wine of the best. The honoured Shukké Sama is affected toward vegetable food.... What! The Buddha called wine _hannyato_--hot water bringing wisdom? Ne[e]san, the honoured Shukké Sama is a man of sense, no ascetic when unsatiated--or on a journey. He would wear out belly and _waraji_ (sandals) on the same service. Fish boiled with a little salt, _sashimi_ (sliced raw fish)--and _don't_ forget the _kamaboku_ (fish paste). Two bottles for each, with as much more heating. Bring a large bowl, empty. Never mind the change.... And now, honoured Shukké Sama, deign at least to the uninitiated the basis of this wondrous argument." Dentatsu could not take offence at his merry humour. Himself he smiled, as he poured from the second bottle of the wine. "Yes; the Buddha has called wine _hannyato_, thus permitting its use to the initiated; just as stronger foods, properly labelled, are fit for the belly. Thus by the mouth is purified what goes into the belly. If the mouth can perform lustration in the one case, it can do so by its exercise in another and more intimate fashion." The fellow was immensely pleased. Leaning over he had drunk in the countenance of the priest in the course of his argument--"Naruhodo! A big body: 'twas feared the mind would be small. Deign, honoured sir, to wait a moment; a purchase to make...." Off he bolted with the _domburi_ or large bowl, something of a mystery to the priest. It was soon solved by his reappearance with the vessel filled with the small salted squid (_ika_). "There! Honoured Shukké Sama, sample the best of Odawara town, noted for _kamaboku_ and its small fish-salted; and of these the _ika_ is unsurpassed." As they drank the wine, urged on by the savoury relish, he gave few and brief directions. The food was wrapped up by the _ne[e]san_, several bottles of wine put in the package, for use in a journey that must be pressed. "Now--the bill; for you, _ne[e]san_, what is left over. Honoured Shukké Sama, a gentle pace for the time being. The belly full, one loiters to let it do its work. From here to Yumoto is a _ri_ (2-1/2 miles), of most gentle rise. And what a pretty scene; the valley narrowing to its clinging hills hiding the strange and beautiful scenes beyond, yet which cause a little fear even to the stoutest hearts. This river seems alive, twisting, and turning, and pouring in multitudinous and minute falls over the rounded boulders. The greater falls are naught else--on the larger scale. All day one could watch the twists and turns of one spot in a rivulet, white, green, almost black, yet never the same.... Note how the pass narrows. This is Hata, beyond is the monkey's clinging hill--well named. More than one rock from the steep above has torn away the traveller's grasp and crushed a skull as if an egg shell." They breasted the steep hills through forest, came out on the gentler upper slopes covered with the long bamboo grass through which could be seen the rough heaped up surface of volcanic debris. The trader came to a halt. "A request to make." "Ah! Now the fellow's mask is off--in this lonely spot.... He shall have a tussle for it." Dentatsu was as much enraged as scared. Grasping his staff he faced the townsman with harshness and visible irritation. Said the latter testily--"Put off the honoured scowl. Truly the distrust of the Shukké Sama is most uncomplimentary. But--as priest of Zo[u]jo[u]ji, and on its mission, there is a passport. Women or guns with such, and those unfurnished, cannot pass the barrier. I am unfurnished." Dentatsu showed his amazement--"Yet you would journey to the capital! And...."--"Started in great haste, without time even for equipment, as can be seen--in a way. Deign to grant the request of entering in 'companion.' With this favour all will be well, and the obligation greater." Said the priest gravely--"True: and companions for the day, breaking food together, it is no great matter. But a townsman as company--the barrier guards would certainly make question."--"Write the matter in; write the matter in. They shall have answer.... For whom? The name is Jimbei, of Kanda ward; but just now a servant of Zo[u]jo[u]ji. Jimbei will be a credit to the honoured Shukké Sama. Write it in." His manner was so peremptory that the priest drew forth his writing materials. With one hand grinding his tablet of ink, with one eye watching Jimbei, he saw him disappear into the bushes. With misgiving the characters were added to the passport, a gentle forgery easy to the cleric in mind and hand. Who would not cheat barrier and customs, and feel all the better for the deed? To the misgivings were added a gasp of astonishment. From the bush appeared Jimbei clad in full raiment of a temple servant, carrying pole and the two boxes (_ryo[u]gaké_) on his shoulders, and so like to the rôle that Dentatsu felt as travelling in the style of his betters. "But ... in this lonely place how effect such change? How...." Jimbei quietly removed the document dangling from his fingers. "How--and why--and which--and where--all these are for later explanation. Time presses if Sumpu is to be reached at night. Jimbei answers for the credit of the Go Shukké Sama. Now, honoured sir--down the hill with you." They were standing on the crest overlooking the lake far below. Jimbei set the example by starting off at a rapid pace. Never had priest better attendant, or one more skilled in dealing with barrier curiosity. He was loquacious, without giving information. The matter was clear, and Jimbei gave hint as to the mission and the burden. Dentatsu was given early clearance. At the top of Muko[u]zaka Jimbei loyally restored to him the precious burden until then assumed. "Now, sir priest, be assured of Jimbei Dono's good faith. The favour has been great. The acknowledgment shall be as great. In this life the Go Shukké Sama and this Jimbei are bound in brotherhood." If Dentatsu felt grateful, he also felt a little chilled. "A wonderful fellow! Such legs on such a small body have never been seen.... Nor such an eye. This man is as much brains as bulk. Every member is intelligence--Extraordinary!" He kept this opinion to himself. Aloud--"This Dentatsu admits his inferiority. He is worn out. Since Jimbei balks Mishima town, from there onward this foolish priest takes nag or _kago_." Was he speaking truth, or trying to get rid of him? Jimbei stopped and observed him keenly. Bah! His was the master mind over this poor cleric. "The Shukké Sama already has had test of Jimbei's wit and talk. Deign not to spit folly. Leave the matter to Jimbei, and be assured that the passage of time and space will go unobserved." Nor did the priest find it otherwise. The leagues passed on apace. At this rest shed they stopped awhile for tea, and to consume provision. At another Jimbei halted to order _saké_ for himself and companion. The sun was far down as the ferrymen landed them on the further side of the Fujikawa. Okitsu? Mio no Matsubara? No indeed: passing under the walls of the Seikenji, Jimbei spoke with enthusiasm of the place famed for eatables--Sumpu town. To[u]to[u]mi-wan, Suruga-wan, furnished the fish, unsurpassed; the _tai_ (bream) of Okitsu, famed for _sashimi_--all these, including the best _saké_ in Nippon. Dentatsu sighed with weariness and anticipated pleasure of the table set. Passing through the darkness of full night the mass of a castle bulk could be made out. Then they came into the blaze of such light as a large provincial town afforded. Said Jimbei, with some exultation--"Sumpu town, and its inns of note. Eh! Honoured Shukké Sama!" CHAPTER XX THE AFFAIR OF KISHU[U] KE Jimbei, as of one born and bred in the town, at once led his companion off from the castle precincts. The many lanterns hung out in the narrow streets showed this Jinshukucho[u] to be the lodging quarter of the town. Approaching the entrance of one more conspicuous--"The Yorozuya.... Ah! Shelter for the night." The maids kneeling at the entrance chorused their welcome. Keenly they took in the prospective guests, garb mainly, possessions less conspicuous. All Nipponese travel light, and tea money is to be judged by outward appearance. "Deign to enter;" the usual mechanical and none too enthusiastic greeting. Jimbei was at home--"And the eight mat room over looking the street?... Oh! Ne[e]san is without memory." The girl, a little puzzled, admitted the defect and made apology. Alas! The room had been taken for one of the train of Kishu[u] Ke. They were _samurai_, on their lord's business, and would have no near neighbours. Another room of size and suitability was available. "Honoured Shukké Sama, water for the feet." Deftly he stripped off the sandals of Dentatsu, acted the servant to perfection, and attended to his own purification with practised swiftness. Then under the guidance of the maid the room was sought. The host appeared almost as soon with the inn register. "Dentatsu, _shoké_ of Jo[u]jo[u]ji; one companion--from Mishima this day." With grave face Jimbei made the entry; and Dentatsu gave all the approval of an outraged weariness. "And now--the bath? Ne[e]san, the Danna Sama is large of body and liberal of needs. No vegetation as repast for him. Just a...." Jimbei went into a huge order of food and wine to repair their tired bodies. The girl sighed in relief--"The honoured _bo[u]zu_-san (sir priest) is most considerate. He asks but what is easily supplied." To Jimbei's supposed inquiry--"To furnish out of the usual course is never easy. The honoured priests often give trouble." A serving man stuck his nose within the _sho[u]ji_. "For the honoured guests the bath...."--"Danna, the bath." The girl stood expectant. Following her guidance the weary Dentatsu, under the manipulation of his more active companion, underwent this partial renovation. Before the _zen_, well covered with the eatables, Dentatsu sighed--"Ah! Ha! This Dentatsu is weary beyond measure. To-morrow he will rest here. The distance...." Jimbei cut him short--"The Danna deigns to jest. The rest of a night, and all the weariness departs. Wine and food, sleep, will show the folly of such thought. Besides, the temple's important affair...." Dentatsu did not seem to be so solicitous concerning temple matters as his attendant. Jimbei gave him little chance to show it. He prattled and talked, had much to ask of _ne[e]san_. This shortly, and as decided--"With an early start let the beds be laid at once." Off he dragged the unwilling Dentatsu. When they returned from preparation for the night the beds were laid. Dentatsu tumbled incontinently into one, and in a moment was snoring. Jimbei sat smoking, watching him and the girl making the final preparation of the chamber for the night. As she passed close to him suddenly he seized her and drew her down to him--"Ara! Danna, this won't do at all. A maid in the inn, such service must be refused. Condescend to loosen." But Jimbei did not let her go. He drew her very close.--"Ha! Ah! Indeed one is much in love. However don't be alarmed. It is another affair. The Go Shukké Sama has a little soul in a big body. He is wearied beyond measure; yet the temple affairs require an early start. Deign to call us at the seventh hour, but be sure to say it is the sixth. Is it agreed?... For a hair ornament." The maid understood the coin and the innocent deception. Dimming the night light she took her departure. An inn of Nippon never sleeps. Dentatsu was aroused, to find the lamp still burning brightly in the room. The maid, somewhat frightened, was vigorously shaking him. "Oya! Oya! To shake up such a big Danna, 'tis terrific. He may deign to bestow a beating." Said Jimbei, with calm philosophy--"For the _kerai_ to inconvenience his master is not to be permitted. You are of the inn service. Hence not to be reproved by strangers. It is your function to arouse."--"The sixth hour!" grumbled Dentatsu. He rubbed his eyes as one who had just gone to sleep. Jimbei carried him off to the cleaning processes of early morn. The return found the table laid with the meal. With quietness and despatch Jimbei settled all matters with the aplomb of the practised traveller. Before he was well awake Dentatsu found himself following after through the dark streets. "Surely the maid has mistaken the hour.[23] 'Tis yet the darkness of night."--"Not likely," interjected Jimbei, as swiftly he urged him on. "The girl sees to departure every day in the year. It is the darkness of bad weather, and all the more need for haste." He looked around in surprise. They had reached the ferry at the Tegoé crossing of the Abégawa, at the edge of the town. "Naruhodo! Not a coolie has yet appeared. There is no one to carry us across the river. How now! Has the girl really mistaken the hour?... Return? Why so? That would be to look ridiculous, and the woman is not worth scolding. However, this Jimbei knows...." With misgiving and protest Dentatsu followed him a little up stream, toward the Ambai-nai or Nitta crossing. Here the broad middle space is usually left bare of flood. Jimbei began to strip. "Naruhodo! Townsman, surely the crossing is not to be trod without the practised guidance of the coolies? This Dentatsu budges not a step...."--"Deign to be silent," was the reply. Jimbei was already in the water; with the priest's luggage and his own. With fright and interest Dentatsu watched him feel his way through the stream. Surely he was a most surprising fellow. On the other bank doubtless he would disappear at once. The big legs of Dentatsu trembled under him. He had thoughts of entrance, but the impossibility of overtaking these legs of quicksilver prevented him. "Ora pro nobis"; these departing treasures. No! Now he was returning. "Now, Go Shukké Sama, up with you." He made a back for Dentatsu, but the big man backed away. "Jimbei! Are you mad? Is Jimbei one to carry the big...."--"Body in which is lodged such a small soul? Be sure, sir priest, this Jimbei easily could shift double the weight. Up with you!... Don't put the hands over my eyes. A little higher: that's it." Off he started into the flood. The first channel was easy; barely to the thigh. Dentatsu walked across the intervening sand, with more confidence and not a word of doubting protest. Again, and readily, he mounted this surprising conveyance. The second attempt was another affair. The river flowed swift. The legs of Dentatsu were wound around the neck of Jimbei, now in water to his chest. He looked in fright and some pleasure at the waves, flicked here and there with white. Jimbei halted--"A fine sight, sir priest. Note the deep blue. It shows depth, yet this is the ford. Just below it runs far over man's head, with swift undercurrent. He who once is caught in it rises not again until the crossing is reached, far below." Said Dentatsu, scared and annoyed--"Why loiter then in such a dangerous place?"--"Because just now the world is Jimbei's world." The tone of voice, the look up he gave, froze the soul of Dentatsu. "Just consider, sir priest. A movement, and the honoured Go Shukké Sama is food for fishes. His disappearance accounted for, his luggage, the two thousand _ryo[u]_ of the temple, pass to Jimbei as his heir, and none to make report. The honoured Shukké Sama, is he prepared?" Dentatsu was no fool. This man was in earnest for the moment. With all the calmness of a desperate position he made terms--"Life is everything. Deign to place this foolish priest on solid ground. Jimbei takes the coin, goes unscathed, without word now or hereafter. The priest's word for it--and surely Jimbei fears not for himself." He clung fast to Jimbei's neck. The latter had gone off into a most outrageous peal of laughter which almost shook his freight from the perch aloft. Then slowly and carefully he proceeded into the shallows, set down his charge on the further bank--"A magnificent compliment: but no more of this. Perhaps now the Go Shukké Sama will have trust in Jimbei, submit to his guidance. For once in earnest, the escape was a narrow one.... Ah! Ha! Ha! Ha! How scared!" Dentatsu did not deny it--"More than frightened; thoroughly scared." He scanned his companion. "A most surprising fellow! Surely...." He was perplexed. But Jimbei paid no attention to his questioning deferential manner. He was plainly the master--"Come now! All haste is to be made." Urging the pace soon they were amid the hills. The white light of dawn was approaching as they were reaching the top of a difficult climb. "The Utsunoya-to[u]ge (pass)," said Jimbei. A peculiar vibration in his voice made Dentatsu look at him with surprise. His mouth was set. His eyes shone colder than ever. Every faculty of the man was awake and alert. Silent he halted, put down the pack on the steps of a little wayside shrine, drew out his pipe to smoke. "Beyond is the Tsuta no Hosomichi, running along the mountain side for some _cho[u]_; the 'slender road of Ivy,' for it is no wider than a creeper."--"A bad place!" mechanically murmured Dentatsu. "A very bad place!" was the grave reply. Then the sound of steps was heard. A man, puffing, came up on the run. He addressed himself with respect to Jimbei--"Honoured chief, they enter on the pass."--"Good: now--vamoose; but be at hand." The man saluted, to Jimbei and the priest, and disappeared in the direction whence he came. "Vamoose? Vamoose? What and why this word vamoose?"--"Shut up!" was the emphatic reply of Jimbei. His eye turned to wayside shrine, close by at the summit of the pass. "Now, in with you, sir priest. No word or motion, if life be valued.... In with you." Dentatsu looked him all over. In resentment? If he felt it, he did not dare to show it. Mechanically he turned and huddled himself within the grating. Jimbei forced it in on him, for the space would but hold the big body of the priest. He had hardly done so when another man came running up, almost breathless--"Chief! They are at hand."--"Good: vamoose."--"Again 'vamoose'", grumbled Dentatsu openly.[24] "Why such strange words; and at least why not explain them?"--"Ah! Ha! A noisy priest; these clerics can do nothing but clack, clack, like a parcel of geese or women. Even the best of them--who thus consorts with Jimbei. Remember, Bo[u]zu--silence, or the Go Shukké Sama finds Nirvana--not Gion; or was it Chion." With a silent ferocious laugh, or expression of such, he disappeared into the bushes. But few moments passed. Dentatsu wriggled uneasily in his robes, the only motion space permitted. Then was heard the merry sound of bells. A pack train appeared; or rather two horses, one as carrier. A _samurai_ rode in front; another followed on foot. Four or five grooms were in attendance. Close by the shrine, at the top of the ascent, they halted to get wind after this last steep pull. "What a splendid sight! Naruhodo, Gemba Dono! The sun rises from the bosom of the waters. How blue they seem! The hills take shape in the dawn's light. Truly the start, so inconveniently early, is repaid in part. One could stay here forever ... what call you this place?... Tsuta no Hosomichi? And the resort of highwaymen. But the _samurai_ has his sword. Such fellows are not of the kind to trouble. Much more so a _tanka_ couplet to celebrate the beauty of the spot." He laughed, and his companion swaggered to the front of the shrine, with that peculiar hip motion of his caste. Dentatsu held his breath. The grooms chanted the few lines of a song--"The eight _ri_ of Hakoné--the horse's pack; the Oigawa--its wide flood, not so." Slowly they rose to follow the masters. He who walked preceded. The pack horse followed. The rider was well engaged in the narrow way. The grooms were preparing to follow. Then a man burst forth from the bushes at the roadside. "Atsu!" The _samurai_ had but hand on his sword hilt when his assailant had cut deep into shoulder and pap. His companion tried to turn. Then Dentatsu saw the animal he rode stagger and fall. The rider had but time to throw himself to the ground. Before he could rise his head rolled off a dozen paces, then bounded down the steep slope. Striding over the body smoking in blood, Jimbei grasped the rein of the pack horse. The grooms, who had looked on eyes agog, took to flight down the pass as they had come. The whole affair had not taken two minutes. Gasping with fright Dentatsu allowed himself to be dragged from the shrine. "Ah! Ha! Ha! A surprising fellow! Such activity was never shown by man. Truly Jimbei is of the hobgoblin kind." Jimbei was once more transformed. His costume of priests' attendant had been resumed. The carrying boxes, now much heavier, were ready to shoulder. Gravely he indicated the burden. "Four thousand _ryo[u]_ there; a thousand _ryo[u]_ to be carried elsewhere. But now there is need for great haste. Neither Jimbei nor the Go Shukké Sama is to be found in these parts. On with you, sir priest."--"Ah! Jimbei! Jimbei! A strange fellow indeed! What manner of company has this Dentatsu fallen in with?"--"This is no time for questions--or answers," was Jimbei's stern reply. "The relation evidently is for life. Jimbei recognizes it.... Yes, the crest is that of Kishu[u] Ke; the money, funds remitted to his treasury. Hence all the greater need to hasten." Speed they did, by paths and shorter ways unknown to Dentatsu as frequent traveller of this road, and which spared the Hamana bight and rest at the tea sheds of the To[u]kaido[u]. Fright urged on Dentatsu without protest; settled purpose hastened Jimbei. Thus Yoshida post town was reached in good time to inn, for the priest was half dead with fatigue. Jimbei surveyed his charge, critically and with much kindness, as one does what has been of greatest use to him. "Not a step further can this Dentatsu go." It was not refusal; it was plain assertion of fact; and Jimbei agreed. "There is no longer need for haste. Two, three days stoppage, with the best of food and wine shall be the reward of the honoured Shukké Sama. Nay, until thoroughly restored." They had come from the bath and were seated at a table loaded with wine and food. Dentatsu prepared to eat. Just then the landlord stuck his head in between the _sho[u]ji_. His face was anxious and frightened. "Regret is felt. On Utsunoyama, at the crossing of the pass, the honoured money train of Kishu[u] Ke has been held up and robbed. 'Tis a great affair; by some notable robber! At Yoshida none are allowed exit or entrance during the next six days. People and strangers are to undergo strict examination. Deign the honoured pardon, but ... after all the charges are to be met for the detention." The morsel then being conveyed to the mouth of Dentatsu stopped short. A warning look from Jimbei nearly made him choke. The townsman was all suavity and glee--"How fortunate! The honoured Shukké Sama, foot sore, would rest several days. And at no expense! The generosity of Matsudaira Ko[u] passes measure. Are we not lucky, Danna?" To the host--"So it makes no difference. But at this distance...." The host shrugged his shoulders. "It would seem so; but the order is official. The notice came by boat from Oigawa. The whole To[u]kaido[u] is up--from Yoshida to Numazu town."--"And why not to Edo and the capital (Kyo[u]to)," Jimbei laughed. The host laughed too. Well satisfied with his guests' satisfaction he withdrew. Dentatsu did but blink. The meal removed Jimbei sat in apparent thought. "A boat--and Yoshida! Who would have thought it? Ah! The wicked are not to escape punishment. Three feet nearer Heaven--on a stake; and one's belly full of wind holes--from the spears. Go Shukké Sama, the crime was a dastardly one. Five thousand _ryo[u]_! Surely it means crucifixion on the embankment. We will furnish poles for plover--to roost upon."[25] Dentatsu made a sign of frightened repulsion. He could not speak. Jimbei seemed to catch an idea. "Ne[e]san! Ne[e]san! keep the honoured Shukké Sama company over his wine. There is a purchase to make.... By the house? No such trouble asked. It is for _waraji_, with cloth in front and rear, indispensable.... Not found here? Nay, these eyes saw them on entering the town. Someone will get ahead in the purchase--with great regret. The place was seen, but not knowing the streets it is not to be described." When the girl carried out the dishes, to bring in more wine, Dentatsu raised heavy reproachful eyes--"Then Jimbei would run away, leave the priest in the lurch." He cast a look at the hateful _ryo[u]gaké_, stuffed with recent spoil. Jimbei froze him into silence--"From the town there is no escape. Leave the matter to Jimbei. Drink: even if the liquor chokes."--"A means of escape will be found?"--"Truly a big body and a cowardly heart. Why, man this but a difficult place. Jimbei leaves, to find an exit."--"Just so!" was the gloomy answer of the priest. He put his head in his hands. Meanwhile Jimbei betook himself to the front. To avoid annoyance he borrowed an inn lantern. With its broad mark of "Masuya," the name of the inn, he sallied out into the darkness. He was gone nearly a whole watch. Dentatsu, assured of his desertion, was in despair. He had relied on the fertile mind of this scamp. Ah! What a predicament this fellow had got him into. Then the voice of Jimbei sounded at his shoulder. Dentatsu almost leaped up. Instead he gulped down the _saké_, until then barely touched, to the maid's great astonishment. "Surely the Danna Sama must be ill."--"More likely tired, than unwell. But the wine will make it pass. The _waraji_? Here they are." He laughed as he drew them from his bosom. The girl was all astonishment. They were just as described; such as were never seen west of Hakoné. Truly a sharp-sighted guest! When alone Jimbei spoke briefly--"Take courage. The matter is arranged." Said Dentatsu, heavy-eyed--"The mission settled? Has some other lost his life at Jimbei's hand?" Jimbei laughed; then frowned. "Neither blood nor coin does Jimbei spill for mere pastime. He has purpose." He handled the _waraji_. Said Dentatsu in some amaze--"Where did you get them?"--"In Odawara."--"Has Jimbei been to Odawara?"--"Just so: but not now. Jimbei is no Tengu Sama. Did not the Go Shukké Sama take food at Odawara? This kind are only found there; and pretexts are always needed to range a town in darkness. The mission is performed. Be assured that before day these very people will urge departure.... How so? Jimbei is not without friends; and has done his own part as well. The train is laid, and in all quarters of Yoshida town the fire will break out. The wind blows strong, and ... 'tis them or us." His look was so cold as to freeze. Dentatsu, in ecstasy of gratitude did but seize his hands and murmur--"Wonderful man--truly a great captain!" For the first time Jimbei looked a genuine benevolence. Dentatsu pushed the covers partly away and sat up in bed. Severe had been the chiding of Jimbei--"Honoured Shukké Sama, such conduct will never do. Fortunate it is that the event is postponed but an hour or so. Ne[e]san surely is amazed at the sudden abstinence of the Go Shukké Sama from food and drink. Moreover there is work to be done. The body unnourished, it gives way. Deign to rest. Be assured the urging will come from others." These the final words before the townsman-bandit had himself dropped off into soundest slumbers. Dentatsu watched him, with confidence and some awe. Smoothed out in sleep and under the influence of some pleasant dream, Jimbei was as harmless looking as one of the doves in the temple of the war god Hachiman. He leaned over and would wake him. "_Urusai!_ Annoying fellow! Ah! This _bo[u]zu_ is part hare, part ass, part swine. When not braying, he is stuffing, or ears up in fright. Deign to rest, honoured priest. Legs and body will soon have enough to do." Again he turned over; and again the snores rose loud. Dentatsu could not sleep. He lay awake, listening to the diminishing sounds of inn life. The temple bells were striking the sixth hour. The sound was a strange one. The strokes of the hour ran into one continued roar. Jan-jan-jan--pon-pon--gon-gon--cries of men, the racket of wooden clappers and of drums, were now added to the uproar. For a few moments Dentatsu stood the increasing excitement. Through the cracks of the closed _amado_ he could see a reddish glare, becoming brighter and brighter. He sat up and roughly shook Jimbei by the shoulder. "Oh! This rascally cleric. Nothing will satisfy his stupidity, but to carry it to extremes. Honoured Shukké Sama, wait the urgency of others; don't supply it. We at least lack not preparation.... Ah!" The _sho[u]ji_ were thrown hastily back. The host of the inn appeared, his face pale and lips trembling. "Honoured guests! Still in bed? Deign at once to flee. The town is in a blaze. Every quarter has its conflagration which walks apace; and in this gale hopeless to overcome...."--"Don't talk folly," sleepily answered Jimbei. "Is not the town in ward for these six days. Why disturb oneself? Let all burn together?" The host wrung his hands--"Honoured sirs, the blame and punishment falls on this Masuya if injury befall its guests. All lies wide open. Deign at once to leave.... Naruhodo!" His mouth was wide open. Jimbei and Dentatsu rose as on springs, full clad, _waraji_ on their feet. The way "lies wide open." This was the watchword to Jimbei. "Edokko (sons of Edo) always are ready, and need no urging." With this genial explanation he and Dentatsu shouldered past the astonished landlord. If the latter would have had suspicions they were thwarted or postponed by the cries which rose below. His own main house was now in flames. Hands to head in this confusion of ideas he abandoned all thought of his guests and rushed down below. As if in his own home, with no guide but the outer glare Jimbei passed to the inn rear. In the darkness of the passage he had stopped, leaned down and struck a light. The precious _ryo[u]gaké_ on his shoulders, with the priest he took to the fieldpaths in the rear of the town. The ground was level; the land rich rice field with its interspersed and picturesque clumps of trees and bamboo, its verdure bowered villages. From time to time they looked back at the sky, flaming red, and in its darker outer parts a mass of glittering flying sparks "like the gold dashes on aventurine lacquer ware." For two days they had lain at Okazaki town, Dentatsu incapable of movement after the mad run along the classic highway in the darkness of that fearful night. As refugees from the stricken town they met with kind reception. The greater part of Yoshida town lay in ashes; and so great the disaster, so unsuspected the cause, that men looked rather to the hand of Heaven than of human kind for the source of such punishment. Jimbei spoke gravely as the two stood on the long bridge leading to Yahagi across the river. "The luck of one, the misfortune of another--'twas the life of the Go Shukké Sama and of this Jimbei against the lives and fortunes of those wretched people. And is there aught to outweigh life?" The priest nodded a lugubrious and pleased assent to this plain doctrine. "It is just as well the host of Masuya lost life as well as goods. He might have made plaint, and had too long a tongue.... Jimbei could not foresee such weakness in so huge a body." He looked Dentatsu over with a little kindly contempt. "And so the honoured Shukké Sama would ask the name of this Jimbei? Honoured sir, the favour of your ears--for Kosaka Jinnai, son of Heima of that name, descendant of the Kosaka known to fame in service with Shingen Ko[u] of Kai. Times have changed, and misfortune driven Jinnai to seek revenge for his lord's undoing." He mocked a little; the tone was too unctuously hypocritical. Then abruptly--"Sir priest, here we part. Your way lies ahead to Gifu town. Delay not too much, until the lake (Biwa-ko) is reached. Travel in company, for Jinnai, though his men are numbered by the thousand, controls not all the craft. A priest can scent a true priest. Seek out your kind.... Ha! You make a face.... Here: two hundred _ryo[u]_. The monastery is none too generous, and would have you live--abroad. _Sutra_ and prayers are not amusing. By face and years the honoured Shukké Sama loves the sex as well as the best of his kind. The very shadow of a monastery is prolific. More merriment is to be found with the girls of Gion than with those who dance the _kagura_ (sacred dances) at Higashiyama. Besides, these are for your betters. If further off--seek Shimabara (the noted pleasure quarter). Go buy a Tayu; the funds are ample and not to be hoarded.... There need be no hesitation. 'Tis money of no thief. The prince robs the public; and Jinnai robs the princely thief. No trader ever has hung himself from the house beam for act of Jinnai; and more than one owes credit and freedom from a debtor's slavery to his aid." It was with thanks, the parting with a man famed by deed before one's eyes, that Dentatsu slowly passed on to the bridge. From its further end he could see the road leading into the Nakasendo[u] hills. Long he waited until a diminutive figure, hastening along it, appeared from time to time between scattered houses on the outskirts of Okazaki town. Then in earnest he took his own way, partly impelled by fright and anxiety at loss of his companion and being thrown on the resources of his own wits. He felt for a time as a blind man deprived of his staff. It was years after that Yoshida Hatsuémon, he who died so bravely at O[u]saka, accompanied Marubashi Chu[u]ya to the new fencing room opened at Aoyama Edo by the teacher of the _yawatori_--a new style of wrestling introduced from Morokoshi (China)--of spear exercise (_so[u]jutsu_), of ju[u]jutsu. Marubashi Chu[u]ya had tried the new exponent of these arts, and found him master in all but that of the spear, in which himself he was famed as teacher. At this time (Sho[u]ho[u] 3rd year--1646) the crisis of Jinnai's fate and the conspiracy of the famous Yui Sho[u]setsu were both approaching issue. To his amazement Hatsuémon recognized in Osada Jinnai the one time Jimbei of the days when he had journeyed the To[u]kaido[u] in priestly robe and under the name of Dentatsu. The recognition was mutual, its concealment courteously discreet on the part of both men. Sho[u]setsu appreciated the merits, the audacity, and the certain failure ahead of Jinnai's scheme. The better remnants he would gather to himself. Yui Sho[u]setsu Sensei aimed to pose as a new Kusunoki Masashigé, whose picture was the daily object of his prayers and worship. All was grist to the mill of his designs; but not association with such a chief--or lieutenant--as Kosaka Jinnai. Forewarned Marubashi and Yoshida (Dentatsu) held coldly off and sought no intimacy. Thus watched by keen wits of greater comprehension Jinnai rushed on his course into the claws of Aoyama Shu[u]zen and the meshes of the Tokugawa code for criminals of his class. CHAPTER XXI IF OLD ACQUAINTANCE BE FORGOT Thus Kosaka Jinnai, under the name of Osada, at the beginning of Sho[u]ho[u] 2nd year (1645) was established at Aoyama Harajuku-mura. For a gentleman of such abilities his pretensions were modest. It is true that he hung out a gilt sign before his fencing hall, with no boasting advertisement of his qualities as teacher. Yet his fame quickly became such that students flocked to him by the score. In a few months, on plea of being over-stocked, he was turning away all who would seek his instruction. Some he could not refuse--retainers of _yashiki_ in his vicinity. But the generality of his disciples were a very rough lot; and this finer quality of his flock were carefully segregated, came and went at their appointed time apart from the common herd; and as matter of fact profited much from their teacher, and knew very little about him. Which was exactly the aim of Jinnai. This was remembered of him later. There is but one domestic episode connected with this period, so short and purposely obscure in its duration. About the time of his first establishment a villager, on visit to Edo town, chanced upon the practice hour of Jinnai. The years had passed, yet the rustic had no difficulty in recognizing in the Sensei the one time Jinnosuké. When later he sought a more personal interview the great man was found courteous but freezing cold in the reception. The news from Tsukuba district was of that mixed character not to afford any exuberant pleasure. His reputation for bad company had gone abroad, though no great deeds of wickedness had been attributed to him. With the devotion of a daughter his wife had nourished the old folk, brought up her two daughters. On her shoulders during all these years had rested the management of these small affairs. The girls grew toward womanhood. When O'Kiku was in her seventeenth year Jisuké had died--unconsoled at the ill turn fortune had played him in this unfilial son. These grandparents had lingered out the years, crippled and helpless, urging a re-marriage on O'Ichi--always refused on the plea that such relation was for two lives. Jisuké Dono had united them, and he alone could separate her from Jinnai. She sought no second relation herself and plead against it; and Jisuké would not force it on this filial daughter, who thus would block the disinheritance of the son. Thus the farm stood, ready for the master on his return. Truly the whole village wondered, and admired her filial conduct. To most of this Jinnai listened with indifference. "These girls--their looks and age?" Replied the man--"O'Kiku now is seventeen years; O'Yui Dono has fifteen years. Truly they are the village beauties, and rarely found in such life, for they would spare the mother all labour." He spoke with enthusiasm. "Then the mother lives?" The man shook his head--"The grave mound yet is very fresh. When she died she spoke no word of Jinnosuké Dono." Boldly he looked in rebuke at the unfilial man. Jinnai, if anything, showed annoyance. The old woman alive would have kept the inconvenient wife--the three women--at the distance of Tsukuba's slopes. His plans admitted of no possible descent on him at Aoyama Harajuku. Briefly he made request for the favour of bearing a message. Gladly the mission was accepted. With a discouraging cordiality in the leave taking the old acquaintance took his way back to the village. With something of a flutter O'Ichi opened and ran out the scroll he brought--"Unexpected and gratifying the meeting with Taro[u]bei San. The news of the village, not pleasing, is subject of condolence. Deign to observe well the instructions here given. The time will come when a summons to Edo town will be in order. At present the establishment is new and tender, and stands not the presence of strangers to the town. Condescend to show the same care in the present as in the past. The farm and its tenure is left to the hands of Ichi. As for these girls, look well to their care. They are said to be handsome and reputed the daughters of this Jinnai. Obey then his command. These are no mares for the public service, or for the private delectation of some rich plebeian. Service in a _yashiki_ need not be refused, and jumps more with the plans and purposes of Jinnai. Keep this well in mind, and await the ripeness of time. With salutation...." Such the cold greeting through the years. "Reputed the daughters of this Jinnai." Ah! He thought and knew the years turned the beauty Ichi into the worn and wrinkled country hag of nearly forty years, only too ready to market her girls for her own necessities. She was ill and worn in her service. Here Jinnai was to be recognized. He was the man of his caste, with contempt for the plebeian he turned to his uses, but who must have no intimate contact with him or his. Edo town was in a turmoil. North, East, South of the town the lives and purses of men who walked were at hazard. Plainly some band was operating in these quarters of the town. Aoyama Shu[u]zen was hard put to it. His arrests, outrageous and barbarous, increased with his difficulties. Some specimens have been instanced. His bands of _yakunin_ lay out in a wide net around the threatened quarters of the city. On the outskirts of Honjo[u] a country mansion would be fired and plundered. In O[u]kubo a temple (the Jisho[u]-in) was clean gutted of its treasury--without notice to its neighbours. Not a sign of the spoil could be traced until the Sho[u]shidai of Kyo[u]to sent as present to the suzerain a most valued hanging picture (_kakémono_) of Shu[u]bun, picked up for him in O[u]saka town, and worthy of being seen by the eyes of Edo's ruler. Murder and rape were the common accompaniments of these crimes, the doers of which left no witness, if resisted. _Tsujikiri_, cutting down wayfarers merely to test the value of a sword blade, found revival. Such murders in the outward wards of the city were of nightly occurrence. Yet they all centred in Aoyama's own precinct; starting forth from the fencing hall of Osada Jinnai. What a band they were! At this long distant date the names read with that tinge of the descriptive which such nomenclature gives--Yamaguchi Chiyari, Kanagawa Koni, Sendai no O[u]kami, Okayama Koshin, Kumamoto Kondo[u], Tsukuba Endé;[26] their great chief being Kosaka Jinnai. The eleventh month (December) was closing its first decade. The wine shop at Shiba Nihon Enoki was celebrating a first opening, a feast in progress for some hours, and to be maintained for the few ensuing days. The enthusiasm was at its height, and the wine flowed like water. Some few guests, who could, tottered home at midnight. Clerks and domestics--there is little difference in Nipponese practice--shut up the premises as well as their drunken state permitted. Those who had still some trace of sobriety proceeded to guzzle what was left in the opened casks. When the hour of the ox (1 A.M.) struck, not a man in the place knew front from rear. They lay sprawled out dead drunk--as were some of the women. This was the hour watched for and chosen by Jinnai. Such of the females as could give the alarm were bound and gagged by the masked invaders. Then they gutted place and store-houses. With bending backs they betook themselves over the hills the short distance to Harajuku. Here Jinnai, in the unwise benevolence of the bandit chieftain, gave rein to the licentiousness of these favourites of his mature age, to these lieutenants and agents in the great movement for which all this loot was gathered. The circuit was formed. The heads of wine barrels just stolen were broached. The grizzled, tousled member who officiated as cook, and as such had been left behind to his own offices, produced the feast of fish and delicacies in celebration of the great deed and accomplishment. "Now is the turn of this company," said Jinnai in pleasant reference to the victims of the raid. "A real banquet of extreme intoxication.[27] Alas! We have no _tabo_.... Too dangerous a loot," commented Jinnai amid the roar of laughter and approval. "Use and abuse go together; and the necessity to slit the throats of such chattering parrots. For this company the remains would give trouble, and might bring unexpected visitors about our ears. Be virtuous--and spare not the wine." The advice was followed to the letter. Soon the house of Jinnai was a match for that of the looted wine shop. With the light of the December dawn a metal dealer (_doguya_) was trudging his way over the sifted cover of an early snow fall. He lived thereabouts; often had had small jobs of mending the weapons and implements of this sturdy establishment of Jinnai, hence had some good will to its owner, which was more than could be said of most of the neighbours. To his surprise he noted the wide open gate to Jinnai's entrance, the many tracks leading within. Strange sounds were heard. He would venture on a look. "Oya! Oya!" The man stood stock still, half in fright and half in a wondering concupiscence of curiosity, as he took in the riotous vision of the fencing hall. Some twenty men lay scattered in different postures--all dead drunk. The noise arose from their wide open snoring mouths and nostrils. A score of wine casks lay tumbled, the liquor spilled on the _tatami_. Mingled with the remains of food and vomit were stained cups and dirty plates. More suggestive to his frightened eyes was the heap of packages laid out at the side. Some of them had been opened, and displayed the varied assortment of the contents. Most conspicuous was Jinnai, who had gone to sleep with the bag of all the coin found in the wine shop as pillow. Ah! Ha! The scene needed no interpreter. This was a mere band of thieves, the house their den. The man stole to the kitchen. He knew his ground, and that in these bachelor quarters no women would be stirring. Jinnai was a misogynist--on business principles. Hearing a stir he would have fled at the rear, but the body of the drunken cook, the intermediary of their dealings, lay square across the exit. Fearful he made his return. As he passed out the front--"Alas! Alas! What is to be done? The Sensei, so just and prompt in his dealings, so kind in his patronage, is a mere thief. Report is to be made. As witness this Sentaro[u] will send the Sensei to the execution ground. But the honoured mother--no trouble is to be brought on her. By other discovery ... and perchance someone has seen this entrance! What's to be done? What's to be done?" He did one thing in his perplexity. He shut the outside door, closed fast the big gate, and departed by the service gate. Thus no others should intrude on this rash man; and likewise Jinnai had no inkling of his visit. Then the _doguya_ fled to his home, so blue in the face and overcome as to frighten the household. They gathered round the unhappy man with hot water to drink as restorative. "Had he seen a ghost?" All day he pondered. Then he told his story to Aikawa Chu[u]dayu. The officer was indebted to Sentaro[u]; for many a hint in his operations. "Deign somehow, honoured _yo[u]nin_, that the Sensei be allowed to escape. For this Sentaro[u] to appear as witness will bring down the curse of one sure to be visited with execution. Condescend this favour." Chu[u]dayu looked on him with approval, but shook his head in doubt--"Never mind the curse of one dead. The service to the suzerain is most opportune. Thus surely there will be reward, not punishment. For the present you cannot be allowed to leave, but the mother shall suffer no anxiety. There is much serious matter against this man; perchance no testimony will be called for.... Strange he should be caught thus; on both sides, and in accordance." He looked over the scroll he held in his hands, and with it took his way to his master's apartment. Thus it was he could spring on Shu[u]zen the greater affair concerning the long missing man. Making his report of the tale of the _doguya_ he passed over the scroll he held in his hand--"The fellow is caught in both quarters. There are three of these _ro[u]nin_, most intimate. Of this Marubashi Chu[u]ya little favourable is known, but he has the support of Yui Sensei, the noted master of the Ushigomé Enoki fencing room, and favourite of all but Hida no Kami, whom he would rival in attainment. Shibata Saburo[u]bei and this Kato[u] Ichiémon seem honourable men, of clean lives and reputation beyond the fact of being _ro[u]nin_. All experts at arms they live by teaching one form or other of the practice. Curiosity led Chu[u]ya to the encounter of this Osada at his fencing hall, to find him more than his match at everything but his favourite art of the spear. But here lies the point. Later he returned, in company with a one time _shoké_ of the Zo[u]jo[u]ji. As Dentatsu the priest had met with Jinnai, and nearly suffered at his hands. In what way he did not say, but told Chu[u]ya that the man's real name was Kosaka--of the stock of Kosaka Dansho[u] no Chu[u]den of Kai; of him your lordship already has had experience in early days. At last he comes into the net and under such fair terms." Aoyama did know his man; even after all these years. He had ripened much. Why not Jinnai? He would have gone himself, and chafed at not doing so; but his satellites showed him the lack of dignity in such procedure. The magistrate in person to take a common thief! Darkness offered chance of escape; so with dawn a host of _yakunin_ was sent under a _yoriki_[28] and several _do[u]shin_. Aikawa Chu[u]dayu himself volunteered. Jinnai and his men were not yet up. On the previous day awaking amid the unseemly debris of the night's debauch, with no clear recollection of its progress and ending, the chief's first alarm had been dissipated by finding the outer gate locked. The unbarred wicket was attributed to an oversight which hardly would attract notice from the outside. Indeed he had not been the first to rise and take tale of his companions, to ascertain which one had occasion to open it and go without. With such a chief few would admit negligence. The day passed without notice. Confidence was restored. Now from the outside was heard a hum of voices. "On his lordship's business! On his lordship's business!" The cries came together with an irruption of _yakunin_ into the entrance hall, Jinnai and his men promptly sprang to arms. A scattered fight began, with none too great stomach of the officers before the stout resistance offered. It was no great matter to reach a ladder to the loft. Jinnai was the last man up. The more daring to follow was laid low with an arrow shot from above, and the ladder disappeared heavenward. Panels now were thrust back, short bows brought into use, and almost before they had thought to fight or flee the constables had five of their men stretched out on the _tatami_. Before the shower of missiles they could but retreat. At the request for aid Aoyama Shu[u]zen was in a rage. There was now no preventing his departure. Mounting his horse off he rode from Kanda-mura toward Harajuku-mura. But it had taken some little time for the messenger to come; and more for Aoyama with his staff to go. Meanwhile much had taken place. The ward constables had joined the _yakunin_ of Shu[u]zen. The place completely surrounded, _tatami_ were taken from the neighbouring houses for use as shields against the arrows. Then on signal a concerted rush of the hardiest was made. Pouring in, with ladders raised aloft; tumbling each other into the ditches, in the confusion pummelling each other with mighty blows, and in consequence securing stout whacks from the enraged recipients; the unlucky constables were soon indistinguishable in their coating of mud and blood. The outrageous ruffians, however, were soon tumbled from the posts of vantage and precise aim by well directed thrusts. A dozen men poured up the ladders and through broken panels into the loft above. Here in the uncertain light they hesitated. The figures of the foe could be seen, armed and ready for an arrow flight. Then a shout was raised from below. Stifling smoke poured up from every quarter. The scene was illuminated by the blazing figures of the archers, for these were old armour and weapons, lay figures stuffed with straw and meant but to gain precious moments of respite. The _yakunin_ now had themselves to save. The retreat was as disorderly as at their first advent, but their rear was not galled by aught but flying sparks and burning timbers. Discomfited they watched the blazing mass of Jinnai's once establishment; watched it until it was a mere mass of ashes and charred beams. Jinnai had been long prepared for such an adventure. The _yakunin_ at first driven back he followed his company through the tunnel[29] leading to beneath a subsidiary shrine in the grounds of the neighbouring temple of the Zenkwo[u]ji. Here he dismissed them, with hasty division of the raided coin, and instructions to their chiefs to meet him at the festival of the Owari no Tsushima in the fifth month (June). Himself he would go north, to give notice and gather his recruits. Thus exposed at Edo, the great uprising now must centre in O[u]saka. They scattered to their different courses; and thus Jinnai failed to meet the enraged Aoyama Shu[u]zen, now present on the scene. But even the harsh discipline of their master had to yield to the piteous appearance of his men in their discomfiture. Aikawa Chu[u]dayu bent low in most humble apology. They had underestimated the man, had virtually allowed him to escape--"Naruhodo! The figures were of straw, and no wonder yielded so readily to the spear. Only the sight of the flames rising amid the armour betrayed the deceit in the gloom of the loft. Deign to excuse the negligence this once." A _do[u]shin_, an old and experienced officer, spoke almost with tears. Aoyama gave a "humph!" Then looking over this mud stained, blear eyed, bloody nosed, ash dusted band of his confederates he began to chuckle at the battered and ludicrous composition. All breathed again. But when he had re-entered his _yashiki_, and was left to himself, without concubine for service, or Jinnai for prospective amusement, then indeed he stamped his feet, his belly greatly risen. Alas! Alas! How could Yokubei Sama find a substitute for the one; and secure the real presence of the other? CHAPTER XXII THE SHRINE OF THE JINNAI-BASHI It was one of those small Fudo[u] temples, tucked away on a shelf of the hillside just above the roadway, embowered in trees, with its tiny fall and rock basin for the enthusiastic sinner bathing in the waters of this bitterly cold day. The whole construction of shrine, steep stone steps, and priestly box for residence, so compactly arranged with the surrounding Nature as to be capable of very decent stowage into a case--much like those of the dolls of the third or fifth month. The nearest neighbour was the Shichimen-shi--the seven faced Miya--in this district so dotted even to day with ecclesiastical remnants, from Takénotsuka to Hanabatakémura on the north edge of Edo--To[u]kyo[u]. However it was not one of their resident priests who stood at the _ro[u]ka_ of the incumbent cleric seeking a night's lodging. The kindly oldish _do[u]mori_ (temple guardian) looked him over. Nearly fifty years of age, two teeth lacking in the front, his head shaved bald as one of the stones from the bed of the Tonégawa, a tired hard eye, thin cruel and compressed lips added nothing to the recommendation of the rosary (_juzu_) and pilgrim's staff (_shakujo[u]_) grasped in hand; and indeed the whole air of the man savoured of the weariness of debauch, and of strife with things of this world rather than of battles against its temptations. Yet the wayfarer was greeted with kindness, his tale of woe heard. His own quarters--a flourishing tribute to the mercies of the eleven-faced Kwannon, with a side glance at Amida--had gone up in smoke the day before. Naught remained but the store-house, with its treasure of _sutra_ scrolls and hastily removed _ihai_ of deceased parishioners. The disaster was not irreparable. His enthusiastic followers already sought to make good the damage. Himself he would find aid from the cult in Edo. Kosaka Jinnai, for the unfortunate cleric was none else, seated himself in the comfortable quarters of the _do[u]mori_, to earn his shelter by a talk which in interest richly repaid the meagre fare, and made amends for no prepossessing exterior. On his pleading weariness the _do[u]mori_ got out _futon_ and spread a couch for the guest. This suited Jinnai's real purpose, which was not to loiter close to Edo and Aoyama's claws, but to push on that night toward Tsukuba and old friends, and recent ones he knew he would find on its none too savoury slopes. But Heaven does not permit the wicked a continued license in ill deeds. The weariness and indisposition pleaded, in part genuine, rapidly grew worse. The chilled feeling passed into its palpable and physical exposition. With alarm the _do[u]mori_ watched the progress of this ailment. His hot drinks and solicitude would not produce the needed perspiration. Instead the chill was followed by high fever and delirium. The medical man, summoned from the village, was taking leave--"A plain case of ague from Shimosa's swamps. Is he friend or relative of the honoured Shukké Sama? No?... Alas! A case of resting under the shade of the same tree; of drinking from the same stream.[30] Deign to have a care with this fellow. He says strange things, and raves of robbery and strife--'I am Kosaka Jinnai; the famous Jinnai.' Truly you are to be pitied at being saddled with such a guest. Doubtless it is affliction for some deed committed in a previous life, a connection of two worlds between the honoured Shukké Sama and this doubtful guest." The _do[u]mori_ was an old and foolish fellow; but still able to catch the warning tone and manner of the leech. With anxiety he went to his guest. Jinnai was sleeping under influence of the draught administered, and on the word of the medical man was insured for some hours unconsciousness under the drug. Placing food and drink close to hand, out into the darkness went the sturdy old chap. The day saw him at Harajuku-mura, wandering around the site of ashes and charred beams of the late conflagration. No sign of renovation was there found. For satisfaction and a meal he turned to the benches of a near-by eating shed. His inquiries confirmed his own fears and aroused the suspicions of others. "Truly the honoured Bo[u]zu San must live far from this part of Edo. These ruins are of no temple. Here stood the fencing room of one Osada Jinnai, a _ro[u]nin_. This fellow turned out to be a famous bandit and escaped criminal; no less a person than the Kosaka Jinnai engaged in the attempt of years ago to carry off or slay the Tenju-in-Den of the suzerain's House. Heaven's vengeance long since visited the others. Now Aoyama Dono seeks this fellow. Is he friend or relative that thus inquiry is made?" The _do[u]mori_ in fright cut short his meal and questions. Paying his scot he made off in a hurry. Soon after one of Shu[u]zen's spies passing, he was informed of the matter. Then the hue and cry was raised through the ranks to find this suspicious cleric. From Jinnai the _do[u]mori_ got little satisfaction on return at dark. He found him sitting, with natural and restored presence, smoking, and measuring him with the cold cynical glance which froze the marrow in his spine. "Ha! Ah! The honoured Shukké Sama wanders far and long." The priest did not attempt to conceal fright or mission--"Honoured guest, the poor quarters of this foolish cleric are open to the afflicted of his kind. But Kosaka Dono, deign at once to remove from here. Already the _yakunin_ are on the trail. Yourself, in the mad fits, you make no concealment of name and exploits. Found here, discredit is brought upon the Buddha, and ruin to this his follower. Condescend at once to seek other quarters." He looked earnestly and pleadingly at the bandit chief, with squawking groan to lower his head almost to the _tatami_. Jinnai's eye went through him in his cold wrath--"Be assured of it; that I am Kosaka Jinnai; and hence one without fear. Let the _yakunin_ come--to their own destruction. These quarters just suit this Jinnai--for the time. Cowardly and foolish cleric, you would prattle and bring trouble on yourself with that wheel of a tongue. Then get you hence. This Jinnai undertakes the charge and exercise of the weapons of the furious god. Bah! They are but of wood." To the horror of the priest he gave the wooden Fudo[u] which adorned the chamber such a whack that the unfortunate and flawed divinity parted into its aged fragments. "What! You still delay!" A hand of iron was laid on the old fellow's neck. Jinnai bent him to the ground. He looked around for implement. None was better to hand than part of the outraged god. Holding firm his victim, and raising his robes, a vigorous hand applied to the priest's cushions such a drubbing as he had not had since childhood's days. Then grasping him neck and thigh Jinnai cast him out onto the _ro[u]ka_ and down the steps which led to it. The old fellow heard the _amado_ close tight with noise. Thus the unwilling god entered on the service of this new satellite. The hue and cry was loud. In the cold of the night the _do[u]mori_ wandered, afraid in his shame and trouble to approach parishioners; afraid in the chill outside air to sleep. A hail came to his ears--"Sir priest, have you not dropped coin?" Ah! Here was a stranger; and his tale he did unfold. Parlous his case; and for him the sky was upside down. "Most lucky! At our place to-day a prayer of _hyakumanban_ (memorial service) is to be held. Food, sleep, and counsel, wide enough for this weariness and distress are offered. Deign to go in company." Thus the spy led him to his officer, a _yoriki_ established at Fuchiémura in the attempt to net this desperate fellow. With joy the news of Jinnai's close proximity was heard. Entrusting the tired and barely conscious priest to the village head-man, officer, _do[u]shin_, and _yakunin_ set out. Jinnai had overrated his capacity. Again the fit was strong on him. He shook and shivered, helpless under the weight of every covering he could find, and dared not move or turn in fear of the chill aroused. Then at the outside came the shout--"His lordship's business! Make no resistance; submit at once to the rope, in hope to secure grace." The _yakunin_ roughly broke down the doors of the priest's house. They found Jinnai on foot. Growled he--"You are not the kind to face Jinnai. A rush--to freedom; with such of you as stand for carrion." He boasted overmuch. His fit was too strong even for such iron resolution. The crisis of the fever was at hand, and his legs bent under him. A shove from behind sent him weakly sprawling in a heap. Then they all fell on him, bound him hand and foot, and carried him to the village. The cortege halted on its way to Edo town. Loud had been the lamentation of the unfortunate _do[u]mori_. He was a ruined priest. At best a witness, perhaps to be regarded and tortured as the accomplice of this desperate villain; jail or the execution ground awaited him. He plead with this one and with that. With sympathy they heard, but in stolid silence. The spy, who had accosted him, knew the old man well--holy, pure, somewhat simple and guileless of mind, he was object of reverence and gentle derision of the parishioners who sought his service in every trouble. The man spoke to the _do[u]shin_, explained the matter. The _do[u]shin_ took him to the _yoriki_ seated beneath a tea shed. The officer nodded; then called for the report. "There is an error of transcription." Thus he altered the characters [tsujido[u]] to [tsujido[u]]. Instead of _tsujido[u]_ a cross road temple, now it read "taken at the cross roads"--"Call the old man here." To the priest--"Through no fault of yours has this man visited you. Be better advised as to other guests.... But now--take this coin. This man's course is run. He surely will be ordered to the execution ground. Great has been his wickedness, and his grudge is not to be visited on others. Prayers are to be said for his soul in the next world. The _do[u]mori_ of the Fudo[u], his zeal and honesty, his purity of heart and manners are vouched for by those who know. Pray for him.... Now--get you hence!" He put a gold _koban_ in the priest's hand, allowed the joyful reverence, and cut short the protests of inconvenient gratitude. The _do[u]shin_ shoved him off to the rear. The friendly spy carried him apart and pointed to a path running through the fields behind the houses of the hamlet. None cared to observe his departure. Thus Jinnai came to Edo, minus his ghostly purveyor. First carefully was his body nourished for the coming entertainment. With clement genial smile Aoyama Shu[u]zen claimed the acquaintance of this one time antagonist. As to the past and recent events there was no doubt. Aoyama had hazy, but little confirmed, ideas of greater objects; knowing as he did the early nature and history of Jinnai. But the Tokugawa were now so firmly seated. Confession was to be secured in the first place, to legalize the execution; and information in the second place, if such existed. Of confession there was none; not even answer. Jinnai closed tight his lips in scorn. Then first he was scourged; the scourging of he who is already condemned. The stout fellows stood forward with their _madaké_; those thin slips of rattan, two feet in length, wrapped into a bundle an inch in thickness with stout hempen cord. Ah! How flexible and painful! As they laid on quickly the welts and bloody stripes appeared. At the hundred and fiftieth blow the medical man and legal procedure demanded forbearance. He was removed. "Cure his back!" roared Shu[u]zen. "Rub salt into the cuts. Next time the tender surface will force at least words from his lips." But he underestimated his man. Bound to a stake, with arms behind, kneeling on the sharp grids, Jinnai hugged the stones--five, six, seven--Chu[u]dayu leaped down to aid the _do[u]shin_ in pressing down the weight of nearly eight hundred pounds resting between chin and doubled hams. The body of Jinnai grew lobster red, his lips were tinged with bloody foam and gouts appeared. The hours passed. The black colour of the feet rose upwards. Then the sign was given and the man taken away in a dead faint, without the utterance of word or groan. Thus the game went on. Now it was the lobster. Aoyama would not go to the prison, nor miss the sight. For a whole morning with curiosity he watched the progress of the torture. Jinnai lay on a mat. Arms pulled tight to the shoulders and behind the back, the legs drawn together in the front and dragged up to the chin. The body at first had the dark red of a violent fever, but the sweat which covered it was cold as ice. Then the colour darkened to a purple, changed to an ominous blackish green. Suddenly it began to whiten. In alarm the doctor ordered relief. With wrath Shu[u]zen rose from his camp chair close by; still no confession. What was suspension to this? Jinnai hung limp as a dangling fish from the beam. Arms drawn behind his back and upward to the shoulders, a weight added to the feet made any movement of the limbs agony to the whole body. It was a sort of prolonged crucifixion. When blood began to ooze from the toes again removal was ordered. Of the latter part of the torture Jinnai knew little. He was unconscious. This hardy body of his was adding to his torments. Even Shu[u]zen could not help admiring this obstinate courage. He would try one other means--flattery; genuine in its way. "Useless the torture, Jinnai, as is well known with such a brave man. But why prolong this uselessness? Done in the performance of official duty, yet it is after all to our entertainment. Make confession and gain the due meed of the fear of future generations, their admiration and worship of such thorough paced wickedness. Surely Jinnai is no ordinary thief. Shu[u]zen never can be brought to believe him such." He spoke the last somewhat in scorn. At last Jinnai was touched with anger. He opened eyes, and, for the first time, mouth--"Aoyama Dono speaks truth. But why regret past failure? My followers? They number thousands. Why rouse envy or show favour by giving name of this or that lusty fellow? The object? As to that exercise your wits. Fat wits; which in these twenty years could not hunt out this Jinnai. Ah! 'Twas but this unexpected illness which played this evil trick; else Jinnai never would have faced Shu[u]zen; except sword in hand. This Jinnai is a thief, a bandit; the tongue grudges to say. Such is his confession. Not a word more--to Aoyama Uji." He closed his eyes and mouth. Enraged at the failure and familiarity Aoyama shouted out--"The wooden horse! The water torture!" They mounted the man on the sharp humped beast. Lungs, belly, abdomen wide distended, in every physical agony, his body could but writhe, to add to the torture of his seat as they dragged down on his legs. Eyes starting wildly from his head, gasping for air, the unfortunate wretch was given the chance to belch forth the liquid. "Atsu!" The cry was between a sigh and a yelp of agony. Then he fainted. With chagrin at his failure Aoyama Shu[u]zen put official seal to the confession bearing the thumb print of Kosaka Jinnai. Thus ended this phase of the contest between the two men. Jinnai's body was too racked by the torture for immediate sentence. When he was brought in the court Aoyama Shu[u]zen had another wicked surprise to spring upon him. Jinnai's rejuvenating eye noted the band of peasants, the two beautiful girls brought captive in their midst. He knew at once who they were; even if the viciously triumphant look in Shu[u]zen's eyes, the piteous fright and affectionate sympathy in theirs, had not enlightened him. The presence of O'Kiku and O'Yui was due to an ill freak played by fortune. In the fall of the year an illness of the mother--cold?--came to its end and herself with it. What was to be done with farm and girls? To the villagers this question was of serious debate. Of one thing they were in dense ignorance. Three years before a new farm hand appeared in Jisuké's household, and men could well wonder at the favour he found with the old man. With some misgivings they had warned him against recklessly introducing a strange _muko_, without first consent of the village. Jisuké assured them against what was actual fact. Wataru Sampei was a _samurai_, of _samurai_ stock, and liegeman to his own old masters of Kai province. It was with the consent and approval of the dying man that O'Kiku was united to him. The household in Nippon is adamant in its secrets to the outside world--and that against the most prying curiosity anywhere found. O'Kiku lay in of her child and nursed the babe in her own nurse's house. Thus in full ignorance the council met to consider the request made by the girls to communicate with Jinnai--Osada Sensei--at the famous _yashiki_ of Aoyama. Most of them were ready to consent. Then rose one Jinémon, smarting under the sense of having fields adjacent, coupled with flat refusal to his son of the simple girl O'Kiku. He suspected this virginity of nearly twenty years; and with an ill turn to this obstacle might do himself a good one. "Take heed, good sirs, what counsel ye come to. News fresh from Edo couples the name of Osada Sensei with Kosaka Jinnai; makes him out a violent bandit and would be ravisher years ago of the Tenju-in-Den. Surely his fate will be hard. Send them to the _yashiki_ of Aoyama--but to that of Aoyama Shu[u]zen Dono. Thus their request is met; and no blame incurred. The honoured _bugyo[u]_ (magistrate) answers for the district (Aoyama), and the girls will not suspect the destination. Otherwise, look well to yourselves. Aoyama Sama is known as the Yakujin. Great his influence in Edo, and sour his wrath as that of Emma Dai-O[u]. It will fall heavy on you." This intimation, that he would do what they would avoid, soured all the milk of human kindness. Wataru Sampei, departed in all haste to Edo, returned in fright to announce his discovery of the state of affairs. The father Jinnai then was undergoing the harsh tortures of Shu[u]zen. He found the farm in charge of Jinémon and his son; the two girls already sent in all ignorance to the _yashiki_ of Aoyama. Receiving a harsh dismissal he dared not punish, from the house and tears of the old nurse he received as if by theft his infant son. With him he took his way to Edo; to establish himself as gardener at Honjo[u] Koumé; or at Narihira, some say. In daily rounds of the jail the _do[u]shin_ stood over Jinnai. In three days this man was to go to Torigoébashi. Here he was to be crucified and speared--"with many spears" ran the sentence, to indicate the prolongation of the torture. "Jinnai, you have shown yourself brave, have refused to name even one associate. The time passes. Perhaps some wish, not incompatible with duty, comes to mind." Jinnai opened his eyes at the unexpected kindly tone and words. It was as if one soldier looked into the eyes of his compeer on the battle field, as well could be the case with this man older and of more regular experience than himself. The answer came with the measured slowness of an earnest thanks and appreciation--"The offer comes from a kind heart, shown on previous occasions.... There are women held here." He hesitated. "Deign the last cup of cold water at their hands." The officer did not refuse. O'Kiku and O'Yui knelt beside the couch on which lay the broken body of the father. Said Jinnai--"The end is most unseemly; words grudge to speak that mere accident thus should determine the fate of Kosaka Jinnai; he who sought to determine the fate of Tokugawa Ke. A dagger would have secured the fitting ending, that you two should not bear the public service of the town, a certain fate. This remedy Jinnai now forbids. With life changes occur; old scores are wiped out. Hearken well: live with patience; serve well to the hour. Now the last cup of life is to be drained; this first meeting brought to an end." Tears running down her face O'Yui, mere child budding into womanhood, presented to her sister the vessel never used as yet and filled with the cold liquid. From the hand of O'Kiku it was accepted. Jinnai drank, looked long and earnestly into the face of both, then with a wave of the hand dismissed them. He had had his say. The hardness of the man returned, and all his courage with it. Three days later--Sho[u]ho[u] 2nd year 12th month 1st day (17th January 1646)--the procession was formed to move to the execution ground at Torigoébashi. The assembled cits marvelled at sight of the man and rumour of his extraordinary wickedness. There was a concentration of mind and energy in the face of Jinnai, which under any condition would attract attention. The centre of the scene, he bore himself splendidly. Despite the pain he suffered no incapacity was pleaded. Thus he forced nature. The costume of the famed robber at this noted execution in Edo's annals? He wore--"a wadded coat (_kosodé_) of fine silk from Hachijo[u] in Izu, and that of quintuple stripe. The _obi_ (sash) was seamless and of a purple crape. Into brick coloured leggings was twisted bias white thread, and his straw sandals (_waraji_) matched them." The jail had given to a naturally fair colour a somewhat livid greenish tint, rendered more commanding and terrible by the piercing cold eyes. Those far off said--"How mild looking! How tranquil!" Those near at hand shuddered and were glad at the removal of such wickedness. The _yoriki_--informed of the purport--let him speak. Jinnai turned to the crowd. His voice reached far. "Brought to contempt and a punishment words grudge to mention, this Jinnai holds not evil thoughts against those who carry out the law. The ill fortune of unexpected disease made capture easy, and has brought about this vile ending. Hence on death Jinnai will not leave this place; but as an evil spirit remain to answer those who pray for relief from the mischance of this ill disease. Those afflicted with _okori_ (malaria) shall find sure answer to their prayers. Held now in no respect, this later will be bestowed. The last purposes of those about to die are carried out." He ceased speaking. A sign and he was stripped and raised on the implement of torture [ki] ill described as a cross. For hours he hung, revived from time to time with vinegar. Then signal was given for the end. First one, then another, _yakunin_ thrust a spear into his belly, seeking least injury and greatest torture. As he approached the utter prostration of a dissolution the _yoriki_ gave sign. The spear point thrust into the vitals showed through the left shoulder. And Jinnai died. To the north, just beyond the present Torigoébashi, is the Jinnaibashi, relic of this episode. On the north, close by the Torigoé Jinja stands the shrine to Jinnai, the god granting cure to sufferers from ague. No mean resort is it; nor modest the offerings of wine to his service. There it has endured through these hundreds of years. Jinnaibashi, Jigokubashi (Hell Bridge) is a relic of the place of execution soon abandoned. After the fifth year of the period the jail was removed to Temmacho[u]; the execution ground to Kotsukabara. CHAPTER XXIII A WINTER SESSION Aoyama Shu[u]zen was in conference with Chu[u]dayu. Preparations were to be made. It was with something like dismay that the members of the Endurance Society received the missive--"At this season of the great heat your honoured health is matter of solicitude. More and more may it thrive. Hence the condescension of the honoured (your) litter is requested on the coming sixteenth day. The wish is expressed to offer a cup of inferior wine. With fear and respect:-- To...." Alas! Alas! If they could have but reached the ceremonies of the New Year.[31] This rascal Aoyama would have been too occupied with the official visits to press his right to a meeting in the season of extreme cold (the _tai-kan_). But now--on the 16th day of the 12th month (2nd February): Ah! Ha! He was a wicked fellow. The grudge properly lay against Kondo[u] Noborinosuké who had sweated the juice out of them in the intense heat of the hot season. Now Aoyama proposed to freeze it on the surface of their bodies. But to refuse was out of the question. Charged with weakness and effeminacy one would be laughed at as a fool; be unable to show his face. After all perhaps one could escape the ordeal with life. The 15th day, on which the invitations were issued, was threatening. The 16th day fulfilled the promise. Cold blew the blasts down from snow clad Tsukuba, with full sweep across the Shimosa plain. As it caught the unfortunates crossing the Ryo[u]gokubashi in their progress toward the Bancho[u], they shook and shivered with more than anticipation. An occasional flake of snow heralded the heavier fall. At the _yashiki_ of Aoyama all was in readiness to welcome the guests. Shu[u]zen stood at the house entrance to greet them. With thin open silken robe thrown over his _katabira_ or summer robe, lacking shirt, and wearing the wide woven grass cloth _hakama_ (trousers) which sought every breeze, he carried a fan in his hand. The _kerai_ met the guests with ice cold water for such as cared to dip the hands--and none dared refuse. Shu[u]zen fanned himself vigorously; and his guests were zealously supplied with fans, or the heat inspired by their progress was dissipated in the draught raised over them by energetic hands. The door-man (_toritsugi_) monotonously sang out the new arrivals--"Abé Shirogoro[u] Sama, Kondo[u] Noborinosuké Sama, O[u]kubo Hikoroku Sama, Yamanaka Genzaémon Sama, O[u]kubo Jizaémon Sama, Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon Sama, Kanématsu Matashiro[u] Sama, Okumura Shu[u]zen Sama..."; and Shu[u]zen had greeting for all. "Ah! Ha! Such terrific heat! Not for sixty years has such been experienced. An old fellow in the _yashiki_ will answer for it. But be sure all has made ready for comfort. Truly the honoured presence in these dog days in a gratification. The viands, the drink, all have been carefully cooled. Deign to come within, to a cooler place, away from this desolating heat. Condescend to notice how the very leaves have been withered off the trees." With inward groans, their teeth chattering and their bodies shivering, they followed this merciless fellow. "Ha! Ha! For tobacco there will be fire in the braziers. At least one's fingers are assured of warmth." They smirked at the anticipated pleasure. Warm fingers and the heated _saké_! But--Oya! Oya! Bare were swept and wide open thrown the rooms. Screens (inner and outer) had all been taken away. From the garden came the cold blast, blowing icily through this wide bare space. For cushions--the straw _zabuton_; for fire in the braziers--punk! Explained Shu[u]zen in all kindness and suavity--"Fires in the braziers in this heat were too terrific even to think of; so punk (_hinawa_) has been substituted.... No need for thanks; the mere duty of the host. And now--no ceremony: off with the garments of all. A middle cloth answers purposes of decency. Deign the trial. Here is cold water to cool the heated body." Promptly he stripped to the skin. The _kerai_ were bringing to the verandah black lacquered basins filled with water in which ice floated. Before this terrific fellow there could be no hesitation. They followed his example in being soused from head to foot. In the wiping--"Let the rag hang loose. Don't wipe with knotted towel. Stupid fellows! The cool wetness clinging to the skin gives a shiver of delight." Thus shouted Shu[u]zen to his officiating satellites. Then all the guests took seats. The mucous was running from the noses of the old fellows who had fought campaigns at Odawara, Sekigahara, O[u]saka. Aoyama noted it with delight; and even Kondo[u] felt a grudge against him, yet was compelled to laugh. The viands were brought--to send a chill down the spines of all; macaroni in cold water (_hiyamugi_), and the equally heating sea ear in frozen salt water (_mizugai_). Shu[u]zen urged the latter, as better fitted for the season. As piles of _sashimi_ (sliced raw fish), resting on neat beds of shaven ice, were brought eyes looked to heaven--to hide the expression. When the wine appeared, the bottles immersed to the neck in tubs filled with salted ice, the more recondite parts of the room echoed groans. Even Shu[u]zen smiled with complacence. He felt he had scored success. It was Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon who showed no sign of discomfiture. "Naruhodo! Aoyama Uji, in this great heat how explain a thing so strange? Deign, honoured sir, to look. This white substance falling from the sky; if it were not so hot, one would call it snow." Said Aoyama undisturbed--"Not so, Endo[u] Uji. It is but from wild geese fighting in the sky, their feathers; or perchance _kanro_--the sweet dew which falls from heaven when a virtuous lord condescends to rule. Who more virtuous than the honoured suzerain?" All bowed in heartfelt enthusiasm and respect. Then said Saburo[u]zaémon--"'Tis a thing to note closer at hand; a stroll in the garden, to seek its coolness in this heat." He leaped down into the fast accumulating snow. Others too stole away, at least to get protection from the outrageously cold blasts of the exposed rooms, and the further exactions to be anticipated from the ingenuity of their host. Growled Kanématsu--"It is the value of one's life risked with such a fellow as Aoyama. Where Kanématsu sits the snow drifts in on his shoulders. He is without consideration or mercy."--"For any: his women must find service in such a _yashiki_ a substitute for the torments of Emma Dai-O[u]."--"Not so," sneered Kondo[u]. "Even the wife is but a wooden figure; much like Kondo[u]'s fingers." An idea seemed to come to him. He left them for the time being. The others stood sheltered from the wind, to talk and shiver, Endo[u] joined them from his garden stroll. Seeing Kondo[u] on his return, said Abé Shiro[u]goro[u]--"Eh! Naruhodo! The smile of pain relieved! Kondo[u] Uji, has he found means to unbend, to thaw out those fingers? Ha! The rascally fellow knows the way about. There is hot water at hand. Deign to give the hint, Kondo[u] Dono." Kondo[u] leaked a smile, then snickered--"It was but an idea. Hot water in this _yashiki_ on such a day there is none. But it is always to hand for the effort. The fingers of Kondo[u] were turning white, were in danger, and so...." He held out his fingers for inspection. Abé looked with envy. "They fairly steam!" Then suddenly putting his fingers to his nose--"Oh! Oh! The filthy fellow! Kondo[u] Uji! Deign to wash your hands. Indeed hot water is always carried on one's person. But...." All grasped their nasal members and protested. Noborinosuké laughed outright, and submitted to the ablution. Abé in malice gave the hands a copious libation. For the nonce his fingers had been saved and Kondo[u] was satisfied with the outcome. A woman dressed in the summer garb for service came from a room close by. The opening and closing of the _sho[u]ji_ gave Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon a glimpse. At once--"This way...." His tone commanded attention. Abé Shiro[u]goro[u], Kanématsu Matashiro[u], O[u]kubo Hikoroku followed him. It was the maids' sleeping room they entered. "Aré! Aré! Have not the honoured sirs made a mistake? Deign to return to the other apartment. This is the maids' dressing room."--"And in no better place can one be," grumbled Shiro[u]goro[u]. His eyes took in the room with avid curiosity. Here the girls quickly slipped into winter garb, until called to the banquet hall for service. But it was not the glimpse of shoulders of the one so engaged at the moment, as the brazier covered by a quilt and placed in the centre of the room. From this the girls had emerged in confusion. Said he reprovingly--"Eh! Eh! In this great heat to have a brazier--it is more than out of season. Surely it is against the order of the master of the house." The girls, uneasy and at a loss, had but for answer--"It was the idea of O'Kiku...." The beauty, still flushed with the suddenness of her effort, came forward smiling. The attention of all was riveted. A little taller than the average of her sex, very fair of skin, the sparkling eyes in the pure oval of the face framed in tresses reaching almost to her feet, the tiny feet and long fingers appearing from the edge of the robe, the incomparable poise of head and neck, this woman was a beauty, to be rivalled by few in Edo town. The voice too was as musical as were her words to the frozen men--"It is but a water _kotatsu_; so that one can be cooled in this extreme of heat.... Within? Ice--of course. Deign to enter." The suppressed groan of Abé was cut short. He looked fixedly at the bright laughing face before him. The smile was pained and stereotyped, but the sympathy was evident. He understood. "Ho! Ho! Endo[u], Kanématsu, O[u]kubo, deign to try this delicious coolness. Ah! Ha! This water _kotatsu_ is a splendid idea. In this great heat it restores one to life. Truly Kiku is as clever as she is beautiful; one apart from all the others." The men crowded together under the _kotatsu_--"More ice! More ice! The _hibachi_ grows warm." Laughing O'Kiku brought the necessary supply with the tongs, blew it into life with a little bellows. All the time Endo[u] observed her closely. To Abé--"Truly she is a beauty.... Your name is Kiku.... And age?... Twenty years only!... So Kiku is sempstress in the house of Aoyama Uji. So! So!" He and Abé regarded her attentively. They praised her beauty. The crimson blush spread over face and neck, adding to her charm. Thoroughly warmed the men left the room. Said Endo[u]--"Oh, the liar! This Aoyama poses as a misogynist, takes a wife--perforce, and charges those of us who like women with effeminacy. O[u]kubo, how about this Kiku.... The Sempstress? Oh, you stupid fellow! Why--there is no more beautiful woman in Edo. She is the mistress of Aoyama; who deceives and mocks us all. And now--to bring him to open shame." Aoyama Shu[u]zen, quick to note their absence, and the return so refreshed, was much put out. "Where have these fellows been?" Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon was not slow in the attack. "Truly, Aoyama Uji, words do not fit deeds. Are you not a bit of a rascal?"--"Why so?" was the calm reply of Shu[u]zen, always ready to a quarrel. "You pretend to hate women; you charge us with effeminacy who have wives; and take your own but on compulsion. Yet in this very house there is not only a wife, but the most beautiful woman in Edo for concubine." Shu[u]zen's astonishment was too manifest. "Who?" said Endo[u], with some misgiving that he had missed fire. "This Kiku; would you deny it?"--"Surely so," was Shu[u]zen's assured reply. Then seeing the curiosity of those around he added with courtesy--"This Kiku is a slave girl, a criminal under judgment, a _yatsu-ho[u]ko[u]nin_ by favour. Would you know about her? She is daughter to the robber Jinnai, not long since put to death. The law may be harsh, yet it condemns the line of such men to extinction, and sends their issue to the execution ground. Whether through good will, or mistaking the Aoyama Harajuku, the resort of this Jinnai, for this _yashiki_, the villagers brought the two girls Kiku and Yui from near Tsukuba. In pity one was taken into the life service of the _yashiki_. For his business Jinzaémon of the Yoshiwara Miuraya considered the younger Yui as more fitting. To him she was bound as _yatsu-yu[u]jo[u]_.... Husband? No: and thus all posterity of the robber is stamped out. Yui serves for life as harlot in the Yoshiwara, with no recognized issue. Kiku serves for life at the _yashiki_. The case is a pitiable one." All present echoed what he said. "It is the offence, not the person, which is to be hated. Truly it is a hard lot." They were curious to see her. Said Shu[u]zen--"Surely she has been rated too high, but--summon Kiku here." As the girl stood in the midst for all to observe, blushing and panting a little with fright at all these eyes upon her, there was no gaze more intent than that of Aoyama Shu[u]zen. The pity expressed and the praises lavished reached his ears. He studied her from head to foot, heard the caustic criticisms--"Such a beauty, and a serving wench! Aoyama is a fool." CHAPTER XXIV THE TIGER AT THE FRONT GATE; THE WOLF AT THE POSTERN Thus it came about that O'Kiku was an inmate of Aoyama's _yashiki_. He had told the tale, the fatal error drawn by the mother from the peasant's message. It was her own deed. Thus "evil seed produces evil fruit. In one's posterity is punishment found." All knew Kiku's story. Promptly with her appearance in the household she was named Shioki--O'Shioki San, O'Shioki San; when not addressing her these companions called it to each other for her to hear. Shioki? It means "the execution ground." A flower blooms but to wither; and this flowering branch was to be tended by the master's hand. Now she was faced with a new and terrible danger. O'Kiku was quick to note the state of Shu[u]zen's household. Of the _koshimoto_, two were the favoured concubines during the incapacitation of the wife. The lowliness of her own position--menial servant and mere serving wench--would seem to protect her. Moreover she was not brought into contact with the house master. But after all she was the _bushi's_ daughter, brought up by a mother trained from youth at the hand of the _samurai_ grandmother. Thus dragged out into the light by indiscreet curiosity the tiger's eye had fallen upon her. Shu[u]zen marvelled at his stupidity, his oversight. This woman was indeed a beauty, the concubine for long sought, and to hand free of her charms. He stood adjusting his robes; then lost in thought. There were obstacles--in the girl's position. But that night O'Kiku was ordered to serve the wine. The intelligence and training, corresponding to the outward physical charms, aroused in him a very fury for possession. Abrupt, blunt, overbearing he approached her in the coarsest way--"Kiku, first pity and now love has seized upon the heart of Shu[u]zen. With women all his relations have been those of cold formality--the business of connection or the necessity of an heir. Now an entirely different feeling is aroused. The very sight of Kiku's figure inspires fondness, an exclusion of all others of her sex. 'Tis Kiku alone who remains the object, all others are mere lay figures. You are a woman, and by nature know of such things. Is not this truly love? Consent to become the concubine of Shu[u]zen. Let this very night seal the union." He attempted to draw her close to him, but she shrank away in confusion and fright. Shu[u]zen was amazed--"What! You refuse?... Ah! Then it is hate of this Shu[u]zen which is felt. Most unreasonable hate, for he acted but as _bugyo[u]_ of the land. It is a disloyal hate." In his mad and thwarted lust his lips trembled. The girl humbly remained prostrate--"Condescend the honoured forbearance. Such could not be the case. Great the favour of Heaven, of your lordship as its agent, in saving this Kiku from the final punishment, the coarse assault of menials. But deign to consider. Kiku is the daughter of Jinnai. She is a reprieved criminal in the land, can be naught else but of lowest status. Kind the honoured words, great the gratitude inspired; but is not the summons unseemly. Deign forbearance; add not to the offence of Kiku." In her mind was the last scene with her father Jinnai; the tortured, distorted, suffering body of the condemned bandit. Pollute her body with this man who had thus played with the one to whom she owed life and duty; to the man who had sent the father to the execution ground? She would have used her dagger first on herself, rather than on him. His words did inspire uncertainty. He was the officer in the land, the representative of the suzerain, hence guiltless. But that made not the idea of his embraces less repulsive, though she wavered in thoughts of vendetta--between filial duty and loyal service to the suzerain. Her attitude puzzled Aoyama. The unusualness of his proposition he put aside. Her claim to loyalty, in his hopes as the successful lecher, he was disposed to accept. Was there not something deeper? Then the battle began between them, to last for those weeks of the winter months. Force matters he would not. There was a zest in this pursuit, far apart from any mere sensual gratification. The desire he felt for her person was all cruel. It was joined to the desire to humble her, to force her to consent by her own lips and motion and against reason, to grant the gift of herself even if unwilling. There was an enjoyment in soiling the body and mind of this beauty. Thus with refusal love began slowly to turn to a hatred full of malice. One night Aikawa Chu[u]dayu was present. O'Kiku as usual served the wine. Shu[u]zen turned to him impatiently--"The speech of the overlord is without effect. Chu[u]dayu, try your hand, and bend Kiku to consent to my wishes, to become my concubine." Shamed before the whole household? O'Kiku had grown used to this grossness in the determined pursuit of Shu[u]zen. Now openly addressed before the chamberlain and others she looked down; a little flushed, and hearing with astonishment the words which came from such a quarter. Chu[u]dayu spoke slowly; addressed her with a severity of tone which belied his intent. "O'Kiku Dono, why are not thanks given for such condescension on the part of the Tono Sama? Apart from his rank is not the experience of his fifty years, on the battle field of war and love, to count in his favour? Most imposing and strong his figure, despite his age. All bow in respect before the lines marked by the wisdom of years in his lordships face. Why refuse to follow the example of the other women of the household--and share with them? These are indeed _koshimoto_; your promotion to the position, from the vilest status, but a caprice and kindness. You should obey the order of the Tono Sama. His face alone would inspire fear. All regard it with awe, as if in contemplation of that of Emma Dai-O[u]. And who refuses to obey the mandate of the king of hell? Answer--who?" He leaned far over toward her. O'Kiku looked at him; then hid her face in her hands. These were not her only trials in this Jigoku _yashiki_ (Hell mansion). There was her ladyship to take into account. Says the proverb of the Nipponese--"dabble in vermilion, and one is stained red." Contact with Shu[u]zen had developed all the harsher traits in this stern _samurai_ dame. She despised the former character of her husband, and now was mad with jealousy at his unrestrained lechery. However there was some consolation in this new pursuit. Promiscuous in his intercourse with all and every other of her household, she could do but little. These were women of more or less position. Now he threatened to turn all devotion in the one direction of this beautiful girl, to condescend to a serving wench. "The Rangiku: it has a fox's shape."[32] Thus sneered her fellows. O'Kiku now was punished as scapegoat for all the others. The natural harshness of her ladyship's character turned to barbarity. This "slave"--O'Shioki--in no way could satisfy her. The slightest fault, of self or other, was visited on O'Kiku. One day her ladyship in her rage seized her and dragged her by the hair over her knees. A short baton of bamboo was to hand, and with this before all she put the girl to the shame of childhood's punishment, and with a malice and heartiness of will and muscle which left O'Kiku lame, and thus victim in other derelictions of duty. This so pleased the _okugata_ that it became a favourite pastime, whenever the girl was at hand and her own arm had rested. She would have starved her, but the rest contributed of their store out of mere fellowship. Her ladyship recognized the uselessness. She did not dare deface her beauty. Believing in Shu[u]zen's love her vengeance was confined in its exercise. With despair she regarded her bloated disfigured person, the wan faded aspect due to her advanced pregnancy. Ah! If she could but fasten some offence upon her. She would bring about this interloper's death. With delight she noted the signs of dislike and malice in Shu[u]zen. Surely the tales were true that the beauty was holding out for the price of her charms. It should be a case where beauty would not secure pardon. It was at this time that, with Shu[u]zen's consent, she put O'Kiku in charge of ten plates condescended in trust to the House by the To[u]sho[u]gu[u] (Iyeyasu). It was a bid of Shu[u]zen, the mark of the conferrence of position as _koshimoto_ in his household. Only in the madness of love--or lust--would he have risked such impropriety. The regular time for counting had arrived. O'Kiku carefully replaced the beautiful objects, marked with holly hock crest, into their lacquered box. Again Shu[u]zen importuned her with his suit. Then in vexation--"Ah! Truly a rebellious and wicked grudge is held by this Kiku. Attempt at denial is useless, it is not only rebellion against the master, but against the decree of the master of all. Decide at once. Either be the concubine of Shu[u]zen; or suffer the sword cut." Again she plead with him, and Shu[u]zen's eyes opened wide with astonishment. "Condescend the honoured hearing. Kiku has plead as one no longer of this world. 'Tis true. But before now she has already taken the vow of two worlds."--"What!" said Shu[u]zen in amazement. His mind lighted up as she proceeded--"It is true. Under guise of farm hand at the village lived Wataru Sampei, a _samurai_ and _ro[u]nin_ of the Takéda House of Kai. By him there is a child--now three years old. Alas! The father lives in direst poverty. Twice in the month--the 15th day when the festival of the Ichigaya Hachiman shrine is held, the 25th day when that of the Hirakawa Tenjin Sama is held--with the child Jumatsu he is to pass. A wave of the hand--'Is it Kiku?... Is it mother?' The relationship longed for and regarded as enduring to the whiteness of the hair thus is reduced to the wave of a hand. The chaste wife suffers not the embrace of two men. Oh! Husband! Son!" Weeping O'Kiku hid her face in her sleeves as she made her plea. Harsh and triumphant was the voice of Shu[u]zen as he pressed on this newly discovered weakness. "Then you lied; Jinnai lied, in calling you a maid. This Sampei and Jumatsu rightly are gallows-birds, doomed to the execution ground. Shu[u]zen has but to say the word. Seized they are put to the torture; the child to know the bitterness of the scourge. Such a tiny body will be cut to ribbons. Listen well! Obey the command of this Shu[u]zen. 'Tis the choice between the jewelled palanquin of the favoured mistress, or torture for these two. The kind offices of the bed for Shu[u]zen, or the rottenness of the jail for these two criminals. The gift of Kiku's chastity secures for them oblivion.... You would ask time? To-morrow night, after the counting of the plates, the answer will be received." He ceased--to turn to Chu[u]dayu, who for a little time had stood by, as one waiting on a matter of business. O'Kiku, face white and drawn, tottered away to her room. She had played false, and at a cast lost all. Gloomy, the long hair framing the distraught and unhappy face, she sat. "Unhappy the lot of this Kiku. The sisters left without a father's sanction, to witness the shadow on the mother's life; to know that father but as criminal ready to be sent to the execution ground; and now, by rashness of the tongue, to condemn husband and infant son to such a hideous fate! Remedy there is none. Perchance the life of this Kiku in sacrifice for both arouses kindness to pardon; or at least secures them in ignorance." Now she was all decision. Rapidly she loosed the girdle of her sash. The safety of her beloved was at stake, and no father's command held. The feet bound she seated herself before the mirror, took up the dagger and felt its keen point, then the morbid soft flesh of the neck. As she raised her arm it was seized at her side. Noiseless Chu[u]dayu had entered and acted in prevention. With a grunt he bent down and severed the sash cord which restrained her. Then holding the dagger daintily he spoke his will--"Is not this madness, O'Kiku Dono? The Tono Sama has issued his summons, and the heart does not conform. The secret thought is known to this Chu[u]dayu. Turn therefore to a friend. Safety is not to be sought by the drastic method of the steel. Look to flight. Chu[u]dayu aids--nay goes in company. Against him there can be no grudge. If Sampei and this boy exist, they are not to be met within the _yashiki_ of Aoyama Shu[u]zen--either by submission and riding in the jewelled palanquin, or by the argument of the dagger. It is an easy matter for Chu[u]dayu. An error confessed in conducting of the accounts, and with purse well lined with the gold of Shu[u]zen this _yashiki_ is abandoned. O'Kiku Dono goes in company. Between the two known connection there is none, and without the wife this Sampei and Jumatsu go unharmed. In the relationship with Jinnai the link is missing and Edo too wide a mark to pick them out. So much can Chu[u]dayu answer for." "Ah!" At times a Buddha is met in Hell itself. With astonishment and reverence O'Kiku regarded this saintly apparition. Noting the impression made Chu[u]dayu sat close by her. A little disturbed and restive she moved away. "The words of Chu[u]dayu Dono are more than kind; never to be forgotten in this world. By such means are Sampei and Jumatsu really to be saved?"--"Most assuredly," was the smooth reply. "Chu[u]dayu acts at once. Deign but the required pledge...."--"The pledge?" O'Kiku spoke now with misgiving filtering into a sinking heart. Said Chu[u]dayu with impatience--"Pledge: don't feign innocence, O'Kiku Dono. Does Chu[u]dayu sacrifice all for the mere amusement of the affair. Amusement there is indeed for him. O'Kiku must consent to accept this Chu[u]dayu. Deign to change ox for horse. Failing Sampei, it is to Chu[u]dayu she grants her favours. This is to be agreed--and right now, as pledge, a proof offered of her sincerity." Now there was no mistaking the words in invitation made plain by eye and gesture. She wrenched away the detaining hands laid upon her; sprang up. "Ah! Villainous man! You would rob your lord, deceive and betray this Kiku. Such speech is pollution to the ears; the touch of such a creature is loathsome. Chu[u]dayu has the weapon of Kiku; but Kiku can still cry out and bring the household about your ears. Beast--away from here!" Armed as he was Chu[u]dayu was afraid--"'Pollution'--'beast'? Ha! The woman's thought rises after all to the surface in her hate. For this you shall pay. Just wait." He left the room in haste, to betake himself at once to the apartments of the _okugata_. O'Kiku crouched on the _tatami_, her eyes wide open, fastened on the texture of the straw surface, saw nothing but this new and terrible position. She could not die; she could not live; and yet the tiger was at the gate, the wolf at the postern. A maid came to summon her to Shu[u]zen's presence. Knowing her position, her feelings, the solidarity of sex had veered to kindliness for this unwilling rival. The girl was shocked at sight of her. "O'Kiku Dono! Tis but for the counting of the plates--as usual." She aided her to don the ceremonial costume. In all the magnificence of her apparel, with hair dressed high, she followed after the girl. In her beauty a splendid sight, in her heart "she was as the sheep going to the butcher." Her ladyship sat close beside Shu[u]zen. Other _koshimoto_, with Chu[u]dayu and several retainers, were present. Despite the customary nature of this vicarious reverence to the spirit of the To[u]sho[u] Shinkun (Iyeyasu) there was an oppression, a suppressed interest, which seemed to fasten every eye on O'Kiku as slowly and gracefully she bore the box before her lord, made salutation. "Open;" the word from Shu[u]zen's lips came dry and harsh--"One"--"Um"--"Two"--"Um"--"Three, four"--"Um"--"Five"--"Um"--"Six, seven"--"Um"--"Eight"--"Um"--"Nine.... Oya! Oya!" Then in fright--"What shall I do!" With horror O'Kiku gazed at the fragments of the tenth plate lying at the bottom. Shu[u]zen, all moved by his wrath and excitement, leaned forward. The holly hock crest ground to powder was almost indistinguishable. Hardly able to believe her eyes O'Kiku mechanically began to finger the pile of porcelain--One, two, three ... they followed up to nine.... "What shall I do!" The malice and ferocity of Shu[u]zen's tone sent a thrill through those present--"Vicious jade! This is a sample of Kiku's hatred to this Shu[u]zen, through him of her disloyalty to the revered House. What explanation can be offered? What expiation?" Slowly and in despair O'Kiku raised her head. She caught the triumphant glance passed between the _okugata_ and Chu[u]dayu. All was illuminated. This was Chu[u]dayu's threatened vengeance. As of one dying her voice--"This is not the deed of Kiku. Daughter of the criminal Jinnai she holds no grudge against lord or suzerain; would but pray in this world for oblivion of those offences in a future existence. Deign, my lord to believe this Kiku. Malice acts here. But a short time ago Chu[u]dayu...." The man sprang forward--"Lying hussy!... Tono Sama, this woman would save herself by slander. Plain has been her ill feeling against the honoured lord in refusal to obey his summons. Here lies the proof of ill intent and rebellion against the suzerain's House. Surely there is no punishment for such but death!"--"Surely there is no punishment for this but death!" The harsh voice of the _okugata_ was heard in repetition. Shu[u]zen spoke--"'A twig broken on the flowering branch of plum, and the whole is to be cut off.' Such the words of Kuro[u] Hangwan Yoshitsuné. Kiku, you are a vile, treacherous woman; undeserving of Heaven's favour and the kindness shown by Shu[u]zen. Now you lie--with the fancy tale of child and husband, in order to escape the bed of Shu[u]zen; with slanderous insinuation to throw your crime against others.... Here!" At the command the _kerai_ came forward and dragged her within reach. Shu[u]zen seized a hand. "Ten the plates: one broken, the tale destroyed. Apology is to be made. Make full confession. No? For the one, ten are due." There was a _hibachi_ close by his side. He dragged her arm over the brazier, drew his dagger--"One." At the middle joint the finger fell severed into the ashes. "Two"--"Two," faintly answered O'Kiku. "Three"--"Three"--"Four"--"Four"--"Five"--"Five." Shu[u]zen laughed. "Kiku cannot hold grudge as being maimed. The stumps remain." Chu[u]dayu sprang forward at Shu[u]zen's sign. Roughly holding the bleeding stumps he pressed them into the harsh cautery of living coals. A suppressed wailing cry from Kiku, a shuddering and turning away of the frightened women; her ladyship laughed out loud. Kiku raised her head and gave her a long look. Shu[u]zen grasped the other arm. The punishment went on. "Six.... No confession?" One by one the remaining joints fell. Only the thumb remained. Like a demon the _okugata_ sprang forward. She snatched away the keen weapon, and pressing down the edge of the blade triumphant raised the severed digit torn away to the wrist. Shu[u]zen himself rose in astonishment at the act. All were in a wild excitement. The violent woman strove to shriek, but choked in her rage and utterance. They surrounded her and bore her off to her own apartment. A wave of the hand and all but Chu[u]dayu had departed. Shu[u]zen was divided between his hate and the certainty of having been deceived. Besides, only the body was maimed, and in the malice of his heart he would soil this woman's soul. He leaned over the helpless figure. "Your own deed, Kiku: make confession and submission. There is yet life to plead for. Ha! 'Tis true. Vicious wench, you would seek the destruction of Shu[u]zen by temptation; the grudge is to be carried to the end." From far off came the answer--"Alas! To this Kiku are imputed the wet garments. A lie destroys her to whom life is displeasing. Aye! The grudge is to be carried to the end. Against this treacherous Chu[u]dayu, against Aoyama and his House the grudge. Remember well!" In fury Shu[u]zen sprang to his feet--"Chuu[u]dayu, take hold of this woman. Out with her to the garden!" With practised hand the chamberlain bound hands and feet. Then following after Shu[u]zen he dragged her through the snow to the old well. "'Tis here," said Shu[u]zen briefly. Removing the bucket the rope was tied under the arms of O'Kiku. "Your own act and deed, Kiku. In your punishment apology is made to the suzerain House. Go join your father Jinnai at the Yellow Fountain (Kwo[u]sen) in Hell.... Chu[u]dayu, kill her by inches." Seeing the chamberlain's hesitation Shu[u]zen gave the body a push. Swift the descent. The splash of the water was heard. "Heave up!" With eager energy Chu[u]dayu brought O'Kiku to the curb. "No confession yet?"--"Aye! Grudge the last thought; grudge against Chu[u]dayu; against this Aoyama, him and his." The long wet hair hanging about the chalk white face, the bulging glaring eyes, the disordered saturated garments of the half drowned girl, were too much for Chu[u]dayu. The man now was struck with fright. He sought to save her. "Tono Sama, is not the purpose satisfied? A request...."--"Coward! Are you afraid of the ghost? Surely Kiku will visit the couch of Chu[u]dayu--as perhaps to his desire." But Chu[u]dayu now openly was afraid and not ashamed. "Deign to spare her, Tono Sama.... O'Kiku Dono, this is no affair of Chu[u]dayu. As ghost deign to haunt the Tono Sama. 'Tis the Tono Sama who kills you." He plead; but inexorable the whispering voice--"The grudge! Against Chu[u]dayu...." Then in terror Chu[u]dayu sought the end--"Ah! Vile bitch!... Tono Sama, deign to cut short the curse, and with it the breath of this hussy."--"Your act and deed, Chu[u]dayu...." Shu[u]zen took up the rest of the sentence. "Pass your sword into her belly, Chu[u]dayu; the lord's order." Chu[u]dayu hesitated. Then looking away he thrust--once, twice. There was a squishing sound, as of steel entering something soft. A heart rending scream rang through the air. It was like the ripping apart of silk. Shu[u]zen stepped to the curb, looked into the agonized staring eyes. Then he gave the final thrust of his dagger into the windpipe, and cast the weapon to Chu[u]dayu to cleanse. As if an automaton the man went through his task: brought the heavy stone to bind into the long trailing garment. Seeing his helplessness Shu[u]zen shrugged his shoulders with contempt. With his dagger he severed the rope. _Dobun!_ A final splash of water at the end. CHAPTER XXV CHU[U]DAYU WINS HIS SUIT Chu[u]dayu's legs bent under him. "Ah! My lord! O'Kiku grasps my neck!" A cold hand laid upon him he shrieked in fear. Shu[u]zen turned--"Fool! 'Tis a clod of snow from the tree above, fallen on your collar. Off with you to bed. Truly in these days such fellows are good for nothing." Off he strode to the _ro[u]ka_. For a moment he looked out--on the heavy flakes coming down like cotton wadding, at the figure of Chu[u]dayu staggering like a drunken man to his quarters. With a laugh he closed the _amado_, seated himself before the heated wine. Yet the woman would not get out of his thoughts. "What a fool! A matter of no import would have given her position with others and influence with this Shu[u]zen.... Ha! Ha! How frightened was Chu[u]dayu! It is not the shadowy fingers of the dead which do good or ill, but the flesh clad muscles of the living. As to your ghosts...." He snapped his fingers and drank wine in derision. Thus he spent the early hours of the night. "What's that!" He put the bottle down at the sound of voices in excitement, of running feet. Soon an officer appeared. The _okugata_ was threatened with premature delivery. A physician was to be had at once. Shu[u]zen shrugged his shoulders with indifference. Five months--seven months--nine months--what a matter to trouble a man with! So angry was he that they dared not tell him more. Matters were going very badly with her ladyship. In her delirium she raved over the past scene of the punishment. The tortures of this present delivery were added to an hundred fold by the disorders of the over-wrought brain. Then the child was born. The assembled women whispered to each other. A very monster had seen light: perfect in its main parts, but with the face of Emma Dai-O[u] as a foetus--with the fingers lacking on the hands. They dared not let the sick woman see it. She detected their confusion, asked to see the child. She grew more and more excited with refusal, and they were at a loss what to do. Finally the child was brought, to her distress and confusion. Then--as from the ceiling--"Shame on the House of Aoyama Shu[u]zen. A maimed child, a monster is born as its issue." And the voice began to count, followed by the moving lips of her ladyship--"One"--"One"--"Two"--"Two"--"Three"--"Three"--monotonously it went on to--"Nine.... Ah! What shall I do! One is missing. Wa! Wa!" So lamentable the crying voice that a chill went to the hearts of all. Again the count went on; again the failure and the lamentable cry and weeping. Her ladyship sat up. They strove to restrain her, but in her madness she shouted back in answer to the counting--"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine.... Ha! One is missing! Vile slut! Thus to maim the child in malice." She raved and tore at the covering. From the disordered hair streaming around face and bust looked out at them the wan face of O'Kiku. In disorder the women fled. Driven back by the necessity of their duty they found her lying dead in a pool of blood. As for the maimed and deformed monster, he took well to the nurse's breast. Such they always do. Where was Chu[u]dayu in all this confusion? Shu[u]zen had men hunting him high and low. Angered at his absence, his own dislike and suspicion of him as possible rival grew with the night and the hours, rendered bitter by these household scenes. He would settle matters with Chu[u]dayu. "Yokubei" he had heard him called; and covetousness turns not only to gold and such like. As fact Chu[u]dayu had good excuse for absence. Much out of sorts he had betaken himself to his own rooms and the care of the old woman in charge, his only female companion in lieu of wife. Ah! What weather! The snow changed to sleet and rain drove into and chilled to the marrow those out in the storm. The _baya_ (old woman) at his entrance was all astonishment--"Danna Sama! The garments are wet through. Condescend at once to make a change." Gruffly Chu[u]dayu accepted her aid. Stripping off first one and then another of the outer garments he too grumbled in his turn--"What a fool the woman was! To lose life against the sacrifice of such a trifling thing. Ah! She was a maddening beauty; of the kind to drive the blood to boiling heat. Never again.... What's that?" Pon-pon: the sound of someone knocking ashes from a pipe into the receiver came from the inner room. The _baya_ was laughing--"Ha! Ah! The Danna Sama is a sly one. He is the one to make friends with the beauties. The lady regretted the Danna's absence, said that she would wait the honoured return.... Who? 'Tis she so sought by the Tono Sama himself; and who instead favours the Danna. O'Kiku Dono...." Before the wild stare of Chu[u]dayu, the clutch on her wrist, the old woman stopped in fright. Then from within came the counting--"One, two, three, four, five"--"Six," Chu[u]dayu mechanically joined in. "Seven"--"Seven"--"Eight"--"Eight"--"Nine"--"Nine"--the words were followed by the chilling lamentable wail of a soul in agony. "What shall I do! What shall I do!" With a yell Chu[u]dayu dashed to the _sho[u]ji_ and threw them back. No one! With astonishment and terror the old woman gazed at him as seeking an explanation which did not come. "The lights in the Butsudan! Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu! Praise to Amida, the Lord Buddha!... Wine! Wine, and much of it; very hot!" He sat, his head in hands, watching the flickering light in the altar stand. "Ha! 'A woman and a man of small comprehension: these are hard to govern.' Ko[u]shi (Confucius) says it. This Chu[u]dayu has played the fool to the Tono Sama's extravagances." The bell of Gekkeiji began to strike the hour of the watch. It came clear and mournful across the snow. "How like a woman's nature," says the native scribe. "One"--"One"--"Two"--"Two"--"Three"--"Three." ... Chu[u]dayu went on, mechanically following the blows hammered into his brain. Then came the heart rending hopeless wail which chilled his very soul. The old woman in amazement and pain gave a howl as the hot wine ran over hands and fingers. Chu[u]dayu on his feet stupidly gazed at the bottle rolling to the end of the room. "'Tis of no import," he muttered. "Now--to get hence. Close up all. To-night Chu[u]dayu returns not."--"But Danna Sama! Condescend to consider! The Danna Sama is not himself. Truly he will be ill. Deign the honoured couch." The couch in that room! He shuddered all over. The old woman wrung and wiped her scalded fingers, and would persuade him to seek rest. She simpered in her blandishment. "Where could she possibly have gone, for _baya_ saw no exit? Perhaps the lady comes again; and in the _yashiki_ there is no greater beauty than O'Kiku Dono. Fortunate the Danna...." Truly she thought him gone mad. "Shut up!" roared Chu[u]dayu. His eyes blazing under the heat of the quantity of his hot stimulant he thrust her, a heap huddled into a corner of the room. Trembling hands adjusted what garments he could lay eyes upon. Over all he threw a long wool cloak with hood and eyelets against the snow. Turning to the entrance he glowered at her, hand on his dagger--"More words of that vile jade, and _baya_ joins her own beneath the stone. This Chu[u]dayu goes to Nakacho[u], to a public woman. If that O'Baké comes again.... Ha! Ha!... Let her lie with Baya.... Why! She's not even rotten yet!" He left the old woman stupefied and quaking, himself to leap out into the storm and darkness. Outside the gate he had a shock. In the shadow he ran into a woman standing by, who turned at his greeting. O'Kiku's face? With clenched fist he would have struck, but the vision faded. "Truly the _baya_ is not wrong. Chu[u]dayu is mad, or drunk." His knuckles had near encounter with the brazen crest fastened into the post. This brought him to himself. Rapid was his descent of Gomizaka. At its foot was a _kago_ stand. "The Danna Sama from the Aoyama _yashiki_--he condescends the _kago_. One all closed? The Danna Sama will lie as snug as in a _koshi_ (_kwanoké_ = hearse)." Chu[u]dayu took the joke badly. The fellow sprawled on the ground under the blow--"Is this a funeral procession? Truly the night itself is bad enough--without the joke."--"A scurvy knave," humbly explained the _kago_ chief. "A country recruit, just to hand. Deign to pardon his impertinence." He edged the fellow off, called up another man--"The Danna stands not on the fare? Truly 'tis such a night as rarely has been seen. With wind and sleet the men can barely stand. But the Danna is in haste. Surely a woman is at the journey's end.... Not a palanquin but with mats." Chu[u]dayu was neatly bundled into the litter. The mats were lowered at the sides and covered with oiled paper. "To Nakanocho[u]; and at good round pace." He hardly heard the functionary's words. "Ah! How she hated this Chu[u]dayu! How she glared into the Tono Sama's eyes as he dealt the blow into her pap!... A vicious jade; yet a beauty. Where could such beauty be encountered? May the _kami_ (gods) grant Chu[u]dayu the same good fortune this night!" More pleasing vision soothed him. He was filled with hot wine and fast grew dazed and sleepy. The gentle motion of the _kago_ rocked him as in a cradle. Yet he could not get sleep. Her voice was in his ears; without, in talk with the _kago_ men? He raised a corner of the mat. With surprise--"Heigh, _kagoya_! What place is this?" He was passing the moat on his right not left; the hill sloped down, not up toward Nakano (Shinjuku). "Danna Sama, it is Suido[u]bashi."--"Suido[u]bashi! And does one go to Nakanocho[u] by Suido[u]bashi? Knaves! About with you, and to the right course as directed." The men, after their kind, grumbled; but to themselves; and in a way their fare should hear. "Naruhodo! What a beast of a night is this! Mate, it is to Nakanocho[u]; but Nakanocho[u] whither? The Danna Sama is testy. He is not to be questioned. He might give a cut. Jubei is lucky. He has changed head for rear. A care there! A care there! What? Again around? What a night, and what a Danna to deal with!" The unconscious Chu[u]dayu was borne onward. Again the vinous fumes passed off. To his amazement be saw the water on the left; but not what he sought. "Heigh! Heigh! _Kago_ men, whither now? What place yonder?"--"Yanagibara, Danna Sama." Chu[u]dayu's voice was big with wrath. "True _kago_ men as guides! Does one go to Yanagibara to go to Nakanocho[u] of Shinjuku."--"Oya! Oya! The Danna always tells us to go this way, that way. Nakanocho[u], Nakacho[u]--is it Yoshiwara, or Fukagawa, or Naito[u] Shinjuku to which the Danna goes? 'Tis but the lady at the pole who has a clear head and forces us to go this way.... Danna, never mind the fare money. Condescend to alight. It is a hard night; too hard for such a baffling task.... Here is your pretty friend again!" Chu[u]dayu raised the mat and looked out. Vaguely outlined in the again whirling snowy darkness stood O'Kiku. With wild cry he sprang out, sword drawn. The _kago_ men dropped the litter and took to their heels. Dazed Chu[u]dayu looked around him. Ah! He was drunk with wine, and visions haunted him. Yanagibara? Let it be Yoshiwara then. Stalking through the O[u]mon he made his way to the Nagatoya, a tea house at which he was known. "Oya! The honoured Danna Sama of the Bancho[u] _yashiki_. In good season Aikawa Dono; the lady awaits the honoured _buké-sama_."--"A lady waiting? Fool! Who brings a woman to this market where he comes to purchase?" The _banto[u]_ (clerk) of the tea house insisted. "Aikawa Sama, is it not fact? She is barely of twenty years; outstripping in beauty the greatest of the Go Tayu.... Her name? O'Kiku San...." In his amazement the man rose from his kneeling salutation, craned his neck to watch the flying figure of Chu[u]dayu disappear. Perhaps the Danna had gone mad. Surely he was mad; and not one to come on foot on such a night and all the way from the Bancho[u]. He sighed at loss of such an eager customer. Chu[u]dayu walked into the first tea house to hand when he had stopped for breath. A first visit, his tea money (_chadai_) was munificent. Such a customer deserved good treatment from the Izuzuya. Hence the attendant guided him to the Miuraya, where was bespoken the presence of the brilliant _oiran_ O'Yodo. The hour was late. The _oiran_ was detained. Chu[u]dayu was sleepy and demanded his room. Hardly had he taken to his couch to await her presence than he was asleep. Leaving her other guest O'Yodo pushed open the _sho[u]ji_ and entered. She deserved her reputation for beauty. A splendid girl, for she was not more than woman yet. A little tall for her sex; fair and with but little powder, an oval face, long trailing hair, and shapely hands and feet for all this business. _Batan-batan_ the sound of the _zo[u]ri_ (sandals). She dropped these on the outside. The stranger was asleep. Sitting beside him she gathered the folds of her crape night robe about her bare feet. With a deft touch she adjusted the knot of the pink sash which confined it; then turned attention to the long silver chased pipe and the face of the sleeping man. Some feeling was aroused she could not understand. There was much she did not yet understand in this bitter toil of hers. Chu[u]dayu began to speak; at first in halting and broken sentences; then in a continued flood--"Ah! Ha! That look of hate! Chu[u]dayu acted most foully. 'Twas he who took the plate, to secure his safety and O'Kiku's death. Deign to pardon. It was not Chu[u]dayu; 'twas the Tono Sama who dealt the fatal blow.... What? The suffering?... Ah! But the suffering of mind.... Now she begins--one--two--three--four--five--six--seven--eight--nine.... Kiya!" The shriek rang through the room, bringing O'Yodo to her feet. Crouched beside the _andon_ was outlined vaguely the figure of her sister O'Kiku. "Ne[e]san! Here! And what...." At the words she turned to meet the wide open frighted gaze of Chu[u]dayu. The matter of fact, gentle tones calmed him. "A first meeting with the honoured guest. Deign to pardon the awkwardness of Yodo." Chu[u]dayu came out of his sleep reassured. He had dreamed; a frightful dream. She told him so, and pressed him curiously as to why he had called out. "The honoured _samurai_ (_buké-sama_), who then favours Yodo?" He spoke, as being again himself--the military man, and no less a person than the chamberlain of Aoyama Shu[u]zen Sama, _hatamoto_ with a _yashiki_ in the Bancho[u]. "Perhaps then a serving maid called O'Kiku is known to the honoured sir." Again Chu[u]dayu's doubts were raised at evident resemblance--to be reassured. "No kin: we knew each other well in early life. The father was a great criminal, and O'Kiku, it was heard, was condemned to be a slave for life. Entered in this business nothing has been seen of each other. She is well--in mind and body?" The question was timid, and Chu[u]dayu did not notice the unnatural eagerness. "In Kiku's place mind and body are assured their lot; to undergo no change." Captivated by this beauty he was now eager for his good fortune. Reluctant and with misgiving she allowed him to draw her close. CHAPTER XXVI SAMPEI DONO He was poor; coarsely and scantily clad as he came on his return through the darkness and snowflakes now coming down wet and moist, whirling and twisting under the increasing gale and gradually turning into a penetrating chilling sleet against which the straw raincoat was poor protection. In this guise Wataru Sampei was the gardener, making a precarious living at which his skill was accidental and vicarious. In his shabby home he was the _samurai_, his two swords treasured, carefully wrapped and put away in the closet; struggling to live in order to bring up this boy Jumatsu in his own cult, to better times and retribution on the upstarts from the South. This night too had been part of his _samurai's_ duty, in its _sankei_ or pilgrimage to the Asakusa Kwannon. O'Kiku believed in efficacy of prayer to the goddess of mercy. A hasty word, implied rather than spoken, as to a passer by during the first sight of her, and the gesture of acquiescence on his part who had little faith. But the gesture was as strong in its obligation as an oath written and signed in blood. On approaching his home with surprise he noted a woman by the door. She seemed to be in the act of coming or going. Surely he could not mistake that figure; nay, throwing the light of his lantern ahead a glimpse of the white wan face startled him. His heart leaped within him--"Is it Kiku? How comes the wife here at this hour? How has exit from the _yashiki_ been permitted?" But the woman answered not. Instead she moved away from him, into the darkness. More and more astonished Sampei called after her and followed. Always she eluded him. Thus he was led away two hundred, three hundred yards. There she was, halted beneath the willow tree on the river bank. His pace broke into a run. Now she did not move or attempt to elude him, but as he came up the figure was but a stela to point the way to a near-by shrine. Sampei passed his hand over his brow. Kiku was too much on his mind; this forced widowerhood with charge of a toddling boy. Ah! If pity and affection would but allow him to transfer the child to others! Better would it be for both. But how face the mother without the child--and then, the lot of one's favoured child in the house of strangers and under their cold glances? Sampei himself could not part with Jumatsu. Easy was it for him to cut belly--and leave mother and child in this desolate condition. Meanwhile his uneasiness of mind at their present outlook was driving him to delusions. Taking off his wet outer garments he stole into the bedroom. Now it was very late in the night; he would not disturb the child. To his surprise he found him sitting up on the quilts, shivering and weeping. "Bo[u]chan! What's gone wrong?" He took the child's hands, anxious to note any sign of distress or fever. But Jumatsu made answer in his turn--"Mother has just been here. She was crying. She said--'Bo[u], the parting is for long. Never again will the mother be seen. Grow up, Bo[u]; grow up to be a fine man.' Then she cried more than ever." A hand seemed to grasp the heart of Sampei--"Mother here, Bo[u]chan!" Surely the child could not lie, even make up the story at this age, so fitting into his own uneasy vision. Continued the little fellow mid his tears--"It was not her fault. Someone broke the holly hock plate and charged mother with the crime. Then the Tono Sama killed her. He wanted her for his concubine; and so came to hate her and easily took the tale. It was not her fault. She said this--then went away."--"Whither?" Sampei's tone was so abrupt and harsh to startle the child into quiescence. He pointed to the house altar on its stand--"Mother just went away; into the Butsudan.... And she hasn't come back--to Bo[u]chan." He ended in a wail and childish weeping. Ah! The hands now grasping at Sampei were of ice. Slowly he approached the Butsudan. Startled he saw the snow within it. This wild tale was taking the hold of certainty on his mind. He lit first one light, then the other in the altar stand. Then sharply of itself rang the little bell. A cold sweat stood out on Sampei's body--"Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!" Earnest the prayer for some departed soul. Unconvinced, yet feeling the truth of the impression he passed the night with eyes wide open. With dawn he would go forth to make inquiries at the Bancho[u] _yashiki_. This would be the fifteenth day. Anyhow Kiku would be expecting him. He set out early, carrying the boy on his back. Humbly and with experience of such places he approached the gateman. "An inquiry to make."--"What is it?"--"At this _yashiki_ is there not a woman labouring, one O'Kiku?" The man eyed him with the contemptuous tolerance of him who knows--"Woman labouring? In the _yashiki_ there are two score and more. Of Kiku more than one; although those of the men's quarters have nothing to do with such matters. Perhaps the slave girl Kiku is intended.... See her! Good fellow, are you mad? One under condemnation is not to be seen.... You have come far? Even if you had come from O[u]shu[u] or Kyu[u]shu[u] you could not see her.... But all the way from Honjo[u]; it's too bad." The man looked at him with more benevolence. After all he had some heart, and many distressed people came to this _yashiki_; entered into it. "Are you thirsty?... No? In that case entrance there is none; although the water of the well in the _yashiki_ is said to be superior to all other, sovereign to cure thirst.... Ah! You have been dying with thirst all night. Your tongue cleaves to the roof of the mouth. Then the case is altered. For the silver thanks are felt. Just enter. Perhaps some maid will come to the well to draw water. Perhaps this Kiku herself. One so ready--of tongue--can easily excuse his presence and this Yo[u]zaémon, if there be question." With humble thanks and joy Sampei followed the instructions. The well was at the corner of the larger paved space and from it he could see into the inner garden and the greater privacy of the establishment. Here he could note more life at this early hour, and even the stir of excitement. People were running to and fro as under some unusual stimulus. Slowly he drank, delayed as long as he could, unnoticed and unquestioned. He could not thus act too long. Indeed as he moved off a foot soldier (_ashigaru_) passing asked his business. He gave excuse as on mission to a servant, whose name he picked up from one just gone by. As the man had taken a message outside his answer was a safe one. Sharply the _ashigaru_ repeated the fact of absence, and Sampei had no excuse not to leave. The excitement now was spreading to the front quarters of the _yashiki_. Fragments of talk showed him that his visit was most inopportune. Her ladyship had just died, and the household was in a buzz. When he would again speak to the gateman, the functionary's manner did not encourage it, Sampei took the hint of his cold unrecognizing eye and bowed in humble acknowledgment to all in going out the gate. "Chu[u]dayu Dono--where is Aikawa Sama to be found?"--"The honoured chamberlain? He left the _yashiki_ last night in the other watch. There has been no return during this of Yozaémon." So much he caught in passing. Slowly Sampei passed down the Gomizaka and along the moat of the castle. It was with greatest reluctance he left this place. The child began to whimper. "_Otosan_ (father), this Jumatsu is hungry." The little fellow's whimper turned to genuine tears. The father heartened him. Just ahead, on the Kudanzaka, all that should be remedied. Of the number of small shops Sampei noted the sign of the Kikkyo[u]ya--the House of the Full Well Bucket. Bending under the curtain strips hanging at the front he entered the cook shop. "Deign to come up here.... For food? Of the best: clam soup, a stew of vegetables and fish, hot boiled _to[u]fu_ ... and _saké_, none better." The place did not promise much despite the advertisement. Avoiding the doubtful stew Sampei ordered wine for himself and hot boiled bean paste (_to[u]fu_) for Jumatsu. As he fed the child, and at opportunity sipped his wine, a blind shampooer entered; in this tiny place to take a seat close by. Apparently he was well known thereabouts. In bringing wine the host sat down beside him to talk--almost into the ear of Sampei.--"Toku no Ichi San, you are early abroad. Does illness or luxurious idleness summon the honoured _Amma San_ to the couch?... But yourself, you do not look well. Work late into the night goes not with early rising. This is going to excess." The man coughed and drank, turned his sightless eyes on Sampei. What he said made this latter all attention. "It is no early call brings out this Ichibei. Ah! What a night this last!"--"Truly so," replied the matter of fact host. "And no sign of the storm's cessation." He looked out for a moment on the flakes of snow, again coming down thick and heavy. "Drink your wine, Ichibei Dono. In truth you are as white as yonder falling flakes which you do not see. And 'tis said your kind cannot see ghosts."--"See them; no. To those whose eyes are darkened by the night of blindness the gods have granted grace against such visions. But alas! Other faculties have been sharpened. He who cannot see, can hear. Listen Jiro[u]bei San. Last night this Ichibei was called to the _yashiki_ of O[u]kubo Sama. The _okugata_ was in pain and needed his treatment for the limbs. It is a kindly house, one good to go to. The storm kept Ichibei in the _yashiki_: Food and the mat was granted, for his lordship would not send a cur, once granted shelter, out into storm and darkness. But next door it is very different. Here is the _yashiki_ of Aoyama Shu[u]zen Sama--the Yakujin of Edo. Jiro[u]bei San knows of him. His lordship took the _yashiki_ for the old well of the Yoshida Goten. 'Tis said at nights he takes wine and pipe, sits by the well, and in his hardiness and defiance of weather and season challenges the ghosts to appear. Last night.... Ah! The scene rung into the ears appears before the eyes even of the blind. It was the sound of blows--as of a wet cloth striking bare flesh. A woman plead for mercy. 'Vile wench.... Kiku.' These words were heard. Then such a scream--'Kiya!' as of rending silk--that yet it rings into the ears of this Ichibei; to banish sleep and peace of mind for the rest of the night. What could it be? Had the ghosts appeared? Or had some maid displeased the Tono Sama, and hence suffered death at his hand (_te-uchi_)? He is not one to spare suffering.... Ah! How she suffered! All night Ichibei has lain awake and suffered with her. It seems as if her cry never would depart from these ears. With dawn I fled--without food, and doubtless to the astonishment of all. Feeling faint, your shop offered refreshment."--"Another bottle?... O'Kabé! At once: for Toku no Ichi San.... Honoured guest, thanks. Deign again the honoured patronage. Sixty _mon_ the price, _sayonara_." Sampei paid the scot, and with Jumatsu carefully wrapped up against the storm passed out into the open air. Now he was himself again; the _samurai_ of Kai, with the old traditions of his province and his liegeship to the great Takéda House. Against this Aoyama double was the vendetta--for Jinnai, for his wife Kiku. His ears had drunk in the convincing tale of the blind shampooer. His decision was as ready. His steps now were bent to the Miuraya in the Yoshiwara. At his name the _banto[u]_ expressed surprise. "The _oiran_ was about to send a message; most opportune the honoured coming. Deign for the moment to wait." Related to their great attraction Sampei had every attention. Shortly the sound of _zo[u]ri_ was heard, and O'Yui entered the room. Jumatsu viewed her beauty and splendour with grave approval, astonishment, and fear. "Obasan (auntie)? But she is young; beautiful, just like mother. Oh! Just like the pictures of the great Tayu." The two elders listened, preoccupied and with pained smile. "What book; and where seen?... Oya! Oya! In the priest's room at the Fukuganji? That should not be. Priest and _oiran_ are not of kin." O'Yui's laugh was so silvery that Jumatsu in admiration pressed close to her knee. Clasping him she spoke to Sampei. Ah! How great was her anxiety. As she told her tale the heart of Sampei was filled with wrath and certainty--"This Chu[u]dayu is such a strange fellow. The weather still holds him to the place. Hence by good luck it was possible to ask for a consultation. Has not some injury befallen the person of Ne[e]san? The ravings of this man in his drunken sleep, the vision of the sister, the face and garments all dyed with blood, cannot these find confirmation or disproof? In the embrace of this man Yui shudders." She wept. With growing weight and terror at heart she noted the increasing gloom of Sampei's face. "Kiku is no longer of this world. It is true. Herself she told the tale to Jumatsu. At the _yashiki_ all is confusion with the death of the lady of the House. By accident Jumatsu's vision is corroborated by the blind shampooer, led into the cook shop of Kudanzaka by the same hand which led Chu[u]dayu to the arms of the _oiran_ O'Yodo. The evidence is complete for this Sampei. To-night--at the first opportunity--Sampei kills this Aoyama Shu[u]zen; then cuts belly. As for Chu[u]dayu, Kiku has brought him to O'Yui San. Deign to accept the charge. Last night he has been the lover, and the chance of the weather and the charms of O'Yui have kept him here. Let the coming night be his last." He put a restraining hand on the sleeve of O'Yui. In vengeance at once she would have rushed off to poniard this obscene fellow. Be once more the object of his embraces? Alas! Hers indeed was "the bitter toil," which led her to the arms of this scoundrel dripping with a sister's blood. But she listened to the cold and cautious counsel of Sampei, and nodded comprehension and assent. When she re-entered the room where Chu[u]dayu was drinking and roistering there was not a sign of any emotion. Once again she was the harlot, to charm and inveigle him into remaining with her. Ha! Ha! The gods had granted his prayer. "Kiku? She was a beauty--and the impression of childhood would be corroborated by her later appearance. But even thus she is a faded old woman to the honoured _oiran_. A bag of bones!" He roared with drunken laughter; and O'Yui fingered the handle of the dagger in her bosom, in frenzy at the vile jest. "Come now! Kiku has been the object of Chu[u]dayu's love. He confesses it. But now--away with such an O'Baké. He seeks the greater solace of O'Yodo's arms." The wine nearly choked him. His eyes stood out. He gasped and choked. Anxiously the _oiran_ nursed him back to breath. Late that night he had gone to bed very drunk. The ninth hour struck (1 A.M.). O'Yodo, who had sought temporary excuse, entered. Chu[u]dayu again was dreaming, horribly. Ah! This vision would never pass. O'Kiku was standing by him. At first faint, then loud came the voice, and Chu[u]dayu counted with her--"One"--"One"--"Two"--"Two"--"Three"--"Three".... On went the count. Now she was astride of him, pressing him down, throttling him. "O'Kiku Dono! It was not Chu[u]dayu. The treachery was his; but the Tono Sama gave the blow." He writhed and struggled in his sleep. Then O'Yui dealt the thrust, straight downward. "Yai! Yai! Ah!" The scream rang out, startling all around. Alas! A little misdirected the dagger glanced from the bone and pierced the shoulder. As the man rolled her off the girl made one desperate effort. Deep she thrust the blade into his right side, ripped it up and side ways. "Kiya!" Chu[u]dayu staggered and rolled over, hands to his side to hold in the severed liver and guts. When she would strike again her hands were held. The bawd (_yarité_), aroused and passing, saw the shadow of the raised dagger. The _banto[u]_ had come to her aid. While some sought to aid the desperately wounded man, others drew away O'Yodo, again the woman and overcome with tears of regret at her failure. Jinzaémon of the Miuraya questioned her. Was it _shinju[u]_--a mutual suicide to insure happiness together in the next life? Had she really known the man before, and not pretended new acquaintance? Then, without mention of Sampei, she told the story of her vision, her certainty that inquiry would establish the truth of its accusation. Jinzaémon had no recourse. The Yoshiwara _bugyo[u]_, with _do[u]shin_, was soon at hand. "To kill a man on such evidence...." But before applying torture he would question the victim. Chu[u]dayu's case was hopeless. The liver was almost severed. Death was but a matter of an hour or two. During that time his ravings in delirium, his confession in lucid moments, added a new and momentous phase to the case in corroborating the tale of the _oiran_ as to the strange vision. The _bugyo[u]_ did not dare to go further. He must consult those higher in authority. A _hatamoto_ of the land was involved; one just favoured with appointment as _tsukaiban_ (staff officer) to the suzerain. The _machibugyo[u]_ himself had no power in this case. Hence the affair--its nature and its proof--must be submitted to the _waka-toshiyori_, the officer of State in immediate charge of the _hatamoto_, their control and interests. Meanwhile the affair must be smothered and strict search made for the recent visitor Sampei, who had completely disappeared. Jumatsu readily was traced to the care of the house master (_iyenushi_) at Koumé. His tenant, on plea of business in Kai, had left the child with him. Thus they went astray, and thus failed to act. Meanwhile Shinano no Kami at last determined to send for and question Aoyama Shu[u]zen. The seventh day following the retribution was reached--to the great enlightenment of these puzzled magistrates.[33] CHAPTER XXVII AOYAMA WINS HIS SUIT Aoyama's _yashiki_ blazed with light. The guests looked around, at the many lamps, the waiting-women in dainty attire, the ornament of service and of substance; and then looked into each other's faces. The unseemliness of the thing was on the minds of all these dozen to twenty gentlemen. The body of the wife had hardly been carried from the house to the funeral pyre. It was true that grief was to be given no display in the _samurai_ code. The new promotion offered excuse for its celebration. But on the whole this feast seemed an indecent exhibition of rejoicing. "Aoyama Uji is not the Shu[u]zen of old. What has got into the man this past month?" Thus Okumura Shu[u]zen spoke of his namesake. "Bah! It is the shadow of Kiku, the 'sewing girl.' Aoyama rejoices in thus replacing old material. May he get a better heir on her than his last. 'Tis said to be a monster!" Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon whispered, half in jest and half in a savage earnest of disapproval. O[u]kubo Hikoroku first broached the matter openly at table. "Aoyama Uji, is this not a strange meeting? Here we are, all members of the Gaman Kwai; as _hatamoto_, men close to the suzerain's knee and ready for the call to battle. But this--with the glitter of apparel in substance and women, it is show and feast for _kugé_ (court nobles), a meeting to view the moon and its light upon the snow. Deign to explain." Aoyama smiled. He might have made some formal excuse for this eccentricity. Saburo[u]zaémon spoke out for him--"Don't be obtuse, O[u]kubo Uji. The one lacking here is the cause of the feast. O'Kiku Dono still delays. Is it not so, Aoyama Uji?" He spoke with cold certainty, a curious intonation in voice. Aoyama was black with a fury about to burst forth when O[u]kubo sprang up. He looked around. "Just so! Wait but a moment. We'll have her here." Aoyama was turned aside, and would have detained him. "Hikoroku Dono, it is useless. Kiku is not in the _yashiki_." To the dubious look of astonishment--"It is fact. She was a vile disloyal woman. Breaking the holly hock plate, the trust gift of the To[u]sho[u]gu, this Aoyama put her to death. This shall be apology to the suzerain's House." O[u]kubo sat down again in pure amazement--"For what is said one feels regret. The apology is made; but surely...." Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon laughed outright. He seemed with intention to egg him on. O[u]kubo turned indignantly. "Why laugh, Endo[u] Uji? Is the life of a human being to be put against a piece of porcelain?"--"Saburo[u]zaémon laughs at your credulity, O[u]kubo Dono. It is but a ruse to put us from the search. Kiku certainly is not far off." O[u]kubo danced up in a fury. This time he was not to be kept. "'Tis true! But the badger's lurking hole, the place where he keeps her, is known. Soon she shall be here." Defying Shu[u]zen's wrath he and Endo[u] left the room. O[u]kubo was ahead. Throwing open the _sho[u]ji_ of the maid's room he looked within. Ah! Standing by the closet in the dim light was the figure of O'Kiku. "Kiku, why are you here, not joining in the feast? The beauty and the lady, whose love seduces so stern a man as Shu[u]zen to soft ways, is not to neglect the guests. Come to the banquet hall." He seized her sleeve. Said Saburo[u]zaémon from the _ro[u]ka_--"Whom do you address, O[u]kubo Uji?" He looked around the room. "There is no one here.... Kiku? You grasp a garment hanging on the clothes rack." It was true. Dazed and somewhat upset O[u]kubo returned to the banquet room. Aoyama met defiantly the hard look of Endo[u], the inquiring question of O[u]kubo--"Is it true Aoyama? Did you really value a human life against a plate, and kill her?"--"It is plain fact," was the answer. Again the strange looks passed between the guests. Some shrugged their shoulders. Others looked at him and whispered. Some laughed, with glances at the frightened faces of the waiting women. "It's not to be believed," said the emphatic tones of O[u]kubo. Suddenly a breath seemed to go round the room. Every light went out; except the one before Hikoroku. Dimly outlined by Shu[u]zen's side could be seen the figure of O'Kiku. The wan face amid the long disordered dangling hair; the gore smeared face, and neck, and bosom, sent a thrill and shudder through those present. At the exclamations Shu[u]zen turned. He saw her--"Vile jade! You too would reproach Shu[u]zen. A cut for you!" He sprang up, dagger in hand to cut her down. Then followed a wild scene with the raving man. The maids sought to avoid death; happily with success beyond trifling injuries, for sight of a woman made him frantic. Surrounding Shu[u]zen the men drew him on. From behind O[u]kubo, Okumura, Endo[u] rushed upon him. Overpowered he was secured. With the madness of the host the banquet came to an end. As they left O[u]kubo said to Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon--"Really Endo[u] Uji, why so rough in speech with Aoyama? With those of one band quarrels are not to be sought."--"Nor will be," answered Saburo[u]zaémon with a slight tinge of contempt. Then he added slowly--"There is a strange affair in Yoshiwara. The chamberlain of Shu[u]zen, one Chu[u]dayu, is involved; and Shu[u]zen with him. This matter of Kiku threatens grave issue with the _waka-toshiyori_. It is said that the two murdered the woman--because both wanted her for concubine." He laughed harshly--"Why tell these facts to neighbour O[u]kubo?" Said Hikoroku, with his blunt truth--"The sounds and sights from Shu[u]zen's _yashiki_ are not always pleasant. There are tales in the household of a night--that on which Shu[u]zen's wife died. All there was in confusion. It is for fellow-members to protect the reputation of each other." Endo[u] was rebuked in turn. Shu[u]zen was himself again. With the passing of the wine, the guests, the confusion, he was the cold, collected, dreaded master of a few hours ago. Respectfully the _kerai_ withdrew. Left to himself he pondered the events of these hours. He recognized and measured the concentrated dislike expressed in the words and actions of Endo[u] Saburo[u]zaémon, egging on O[u]kubo, irritating himself to desperation. To Shu[u]zen it was a question as to just what was meant. At his age even in his caste men did not seek each other out to draw the sword. The issue was much more serious, involving disgrace. He would like to get at the inner motive of this fellow's action. How invaluable the aid of Chu[u]dayu, who knew the ins and outs of the _yashiki_ of all Edo, and particularly of his lord's intimates. But he had disappeared--as if the earth had swallowed him. Shu[u]zen had condoned too many instances of the chamberlain's free use of his lord's funds, to come upon him harshly for any peculation. The man had been useful in many dubious actions; in bribery, solicitation, pimping, as a useful and facile witness. Chu[u]dayu would worm himself to the bottom of this matter in short order. Thus he went to rest. Despite disordered brain his sleep was sound. It was Gekkeiji's bell striking the ninth hour (1 A.M.) which roused; or else the throat fouled and dried his mouth. He was parched beyond measure; his tongue seemed to fill the whole cavity. Impatiently he called--"Heigh there! Water! Is there no one to attend?"--"At the lord's service...." The gentle tones of a woman made answer. She knelt at his pillow. The water pitcher was offered. He took it and drank greedily. Then--"What maid is this? Does she seek Shu[u]zen's bed? He is in no humour for such favour." And the girl wailed in answer--"Ah! Ah! Harsh his lordship's tone, harsh his words. Has not long since his command been issued? The fault lies not with Kiku. A lying officer stands between the Tono Sama and his handmaid." Shu[u]zen sat bolt upright, glaring. Framed by the long trailing hair there appeared to his eyes the wan, blood smeared face of O'Kiku. With a yell he was on one knee--"Wretched woman! Does Kiku still pursue and solicit Shu[u]zen? Make ready! Again a cut!" He sprang to his feet, grasped and drew the pillow sword. With smothered cry of terror and anguish the figure turned to flee; but he cut her down from shoulder to pap. As he did so the _sho[u]ji_ were flung wide apart. The moonlight from the opened _amado_ flooded the room and lighted up the intruder. Rage and hate growled in the tones of Shu[u]zen--"A bandit thief and doubtful fellow, thus to push himself into the presence of a _hatamoto_ of the land! Fellow, name yourself: who thus by night breaks into Shu[u]zen's presence, intrudes upon his pleasure." Harsh and insulting the laugh of Sampei. He pointed with his drawn sword to the bleeding prostrate corpse of the unfortunate waiting maid, cut down by Shu[u]zen in belief of the apparition of her namesake. "More than one Kiku harbours in the lair of Aoyama. Would he slay them all in sacrifice to his lust? Wataru Sampei comes to ask account of his wife Kiku, daughter of Jinnai, _ro[u]nin_ of Takéda Ke of Kai, as is himself. Now--to the contest! God of the bow and feathered shaft, favour this Sampei!"--"Favour this Shu[u]zen!" Both men made invocation almost in the same breath as they sprang at each other. Sampei was pushed on by rage and vengeance; Aoyama by a savage joy in combat. Here was a worthy antagonist, a true taste of old of the battle field. If Sampei was the younger man, he was also in worse training than Shu[u]zen; and in his poor condition hardly a match for the practised soldier. However Shu[u]zen was compelled to admire a resourcefulness in parrying his own fierce attack, the beauty of his enemy's Muramasa blade, which seemed itself to act and seek his life. "Shu[u]zen's prize--the sword of Sampei!" He shouted in exultation. Sampei was forced back to the _ro[u]ka_. At the sill he tripped and fell. "Now off with you--to Meido and the Yellow Fountain, to join wife and parent thief." Shu[u]zen in joy swung high his blade for the fatal blow. Sampei without sword was helpless at his feet. But the blade did not descend. Shu[u]zen's arm was held fast. By the outraged wife, O'Kiku, as later tradition would assert? At this pass Sampei used his dagger. Plunged straight into the belly of Shu[u]zen with it he disembowelled him. Abandoning hold on his weapon, with a screech Aoyama fell, twisting and writhing in the pool of his blood. When the _kerai_, roused by the disturbance, the shouts and the clashing of swords, fell on Sampei, to disarm and make short work of him, the _karo[u]_ Makishima Gombei prevented them. With difficulty he dragged Shu[u]zen's sword out from the deep cut it had made in the beam of the partition. "Stain not good weapons with the blood of a rascal and thief, who shall undergo the torture and the disgrace of the execution ground. Be sure his lordship will be well avenged. It is better so." Thus with bitter regret Sampei found himself avenged, but still in life. The next day, with the presence of the messengers from Shinano no Kami, the situation changed. With the report from Makishima was demanded the person of Wataru Sampei, whose story fitted into present evidence obtained. Deeper and deeper went the investigation into Aoyama's house affairs. Here was great disorder--harshness, lust, ill discipline. On this latter charge--lack of discipline--official displeasure gladly fell. The tale of the monster, obviously unfit for any service to the suzerain, came out. The _kaieki_ of the House--deprivation of rank and income--followed. As far as posthumous action could disgrace, so far did Shu[u]zen suffer. Much better was the fate of Sampei. The case of the Bancho[u] _yashiki_ no longer could be hid under a bushel. It was the affair of a _hatamoto_, so hated by the _daimyo[u]_. Satsuma no Kami sought and obtained his charge. During the weeks which followed Sampei was the object of respect and solicitude of those who had the care of him. As _ro[u]nin_ of the Takéda House this was all the greater in this _yashiki_ where the Tokugawa were held in no great affection. The breaking into the _yashiki_ of a _hatamoto_, the slaying of its lord, could not be condoned. The official world was glad to combine this with the lack of discipline decision. When the inevitable order came to cut belly it was a chamberlain of Satsuma no Kami who acted as _kaishaku_ (second); and Sampei knew that to this man would fall the possession and adoption of his little son. Thus came he to his end, and his House into this brave heirship. Thus was disappointed the malice of Shu[u]zen, in his last breath denouncing his slayer as the husband of O'Kiku. Announced Horibé Izumi no Kami, the _machibugyo[u]_ who made final disposition of the case--"Between Sampei and Kiku no marriage being proved, the issue belonging to the man, the child Jumatsu is held sinless; for the woman Yui detention for further examination of conduct and condition." This examination never came; nor was intended to come. For some months she was detained in the _yashiki_ of Horibé Sama. Then the third Sho[u]gun died; a general pardon followed of all ordinary offenders. Under this order she was released, and the Miuraya had the hint or good sense not to press for renewed service. A nun, she cut off the long and beautiful hair, to pray in this world for the souls of father, sister, he who had acted as more than brother in the vengeance taken. Thus through the long years to her final and irrevocable release without any earthly condition. CHAPTER XXVIII THE SARAYASHIKI Again the site of the Yoshida Goten lapsed to waste land. Through the years stood the _yashiki_ of Aoyama Shu[u]zen, in wall and roof and beam gradually going to rot and ruin. Passing by on nights of storm wayfarers saw most frightful visions--the sports and processions of spectres issuing forth from the old well of the one time inner garden. Their wailing cries and yells were heard. Conspicuous among them was the sight of the unfortunate Kiku, her wan face framed in the long rank disordered hair; the weird beauty frightful in its expression of horror, as with the stumps of fingers she counted--"One, two, three ... four, five, six ... seven, eight, nine." Then came the haunting fearful cry--"Alas! What's to be done? One lacks. Oh! Oh!" Sight, sound, glare went to the hearts of the stoutest witnesses. Soon the ill fortune of those thus favoured with the vision of the Lady of the Plates was rumoured abroad. Wounds, money losses, even death fell on them or on their households. Men no longer were curious. They fled the neighbourhood of this ill omened gap in Earth's surface, unseemly exit for these foul spirits. On nights of rain and storm none passed that way. Even by day the children were rebuked and forbidden to approach the well. Many are the stories as to the place. To instance one of these: It was Ho[u]ei third year (1706)--the approach of winter in this tenth month (November). Then came to Edo town a wandering pilgrim (_shugenja_) and his wife. Tramping the land all summer to Nippon's varied shrines and sights, now they were on the return to their home in Michinoku (O[u]shu[u]). Much had they heard of Edo, capital seat of Nippon's great lord. Every day busied with its sights they returned wearied to their inn in the Shitaya district. This day they had wandered far. Returning from Renkeiji of Kawagoé they passed the Naito[u] Shinjuku quarter. Almost as great, if of different kind, was the woman's curiosity at sight of the caged beauties, waiting the summons of those far better supplied with cash than her own spouse. Finally in indignation she dragged away the loiterer; and muttering rebuke followed after the jingle of the rings on his pilgrim's staff. They were passing through the Go Bancho[u], along the long stretch of _yashiki_ wall. From a postern gate came forth a woman. The light of her lantern fell on the man and his equipment--"Oya! Oya! Good fortune indeed: honoured _shugenja_, a moment's stay. To-night a memorial service is to be said for the mansion's lord. Condescend to enter and grant service." Willingly husband and wife heard the invitation to rest their wearied bodies. Passing through the garden water was supplied to wash the feet. Then they were seated before an ample feast fit for their kind; of glutinous rice balls coated with the sweet bean paste (_botamochi_), of macaroni the savour of which tickled the nostrils, _saké_ followed, in generous quantity and of quality to match. Said the girl--"It is an all night service that is requested. Deign to undertake the watch and prayer. Ample shall be the reward." Prostrate the _shugenja_ spoke his thanks. The Butsuma, or room containing the little shrine, was close at hand. Seating himself, his woman just behind, he bowed and made reverence. "Thanks for the honoured entertainment so generous and excellent. May the honoured spirit find rest, at once entering Nirvana ... and now, the Hannya Shinkyo[u]--_Sutra_ of the divine intelligence."[34] He began the recitation, accompanied by his wife. Both intoned the _nembutsu_--"Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu! Praise to Amida the Lord Buddha!" Again the recitation of the _Sutra_ was begun. The hours of the night advanced. Man and wife became more and more drowsy; slower and slower came the words of the sacred writing. Then the man nodded off to sleep; as long before had the wife. The hour of the ox struck at Gekkeiji, filling this whole district with its heavy boom. The man woke with a start. What fearful shriek was that? Close by in the next room a woman's voice began counting. But such a voice! "One, two, three...." on it went to "nine.... Ah! Woe is me! One lacks. What's to be done!" Shrill, blood chilling the cry of anguish which followed. Curiosity overcame terror. The man stole to the screens and gently opened the merest slit. Over his shoulder looked the startled wife. A shudder went through both at the sight. Wan, frail, the beautiful anguished evil face of a girl could be seen through the long tangled hair framing it. Slender to the emaciation of great suffering she knelt before the pile of plates she was counting--"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...." The wild chilling scream froze man and woman. For at the moment in sprang another female, in whose worn emaciated face and figure was displayed such concentrated evil passion of hatred and jealousy as rarely to be seen on human being. Like the flying hateful god Idaten she sprang upon the girl, grasped her long black hair, and hurled her to this side and that. Helpless the victim held up the bloody stumps of fingers. Now the face was seen to be dyed in blood, the garments dyed red with blood, the girl again agonizing in a pool of blood. With horror the pilgrim and the woman hid their faces. The man's hands trembled as he struck the bell and intoned the holy recital. Thus in a daze, amid the counting, the cries and shouts, the weeping and the wailing, he went on. The cry of the cock was heard. As if by magic all the wild sounds ceased. The wanderers looked around in amazement. The altar was the stone curb of a well. The _yashiki_ and its magnificence stood close by; but the building was roofless and in ruins. Chilled to the bone, half dead and half mad with fright, the two fled--to reach their inn. At their tale host and those assembled shook their heads. "It is the Sarayashiki of the Bancho[u], the well that of the old Yoshida Goten, whence ghosts issue; unless by good fortune the vision be a trick of fox or badger. Honoured Sir, have prayers said to avoid ill fortune." But a merry, foul, cynical old fellow--peasant turned townsman--twinkled in his laughter. "Then O'Kiku San has favoured the _shugenja_ and his spouse with feast and gifts?"--"'Twas very strange," naively replied the pilgrim. "Copious and splendid the entertainment. Of the reality there can be no doubt. This Jubei did not feast in a dream on those dainties." The host and other auditors broke into coarse laughter--"Feast! The _botamochi_ was of horse dung, the macaroni was earth-worms, the wine--was urine." All roared in their great joy. The unfortunate pilgrims, much put out, made gesture of discomfiture and fright. Said the peasant-townsman, in sly hit at the host--"Perchance O'Kiku brought the viands from near-by inn or cook shop. Surely these furnish little better." Laughing he left the now angry innkeeper to aid his wretched guests, writhing and retching in all the pains, actual and imagined of such a feast. Command went forth to the holy man--and from the Sho[u]gun Ke himself. A halt must be brought to these unseemly proceedings so close to the suzerain's dwelling. These priests of the Dendzu-In, in the shadow of whose temple rested so many of the Tokugawa dead, were famed for learning and for piety. The founder of the Hall, Ryo[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin, had set to his successors this standard as necessary accomplishment, bequeathing to them perhaps the ability to meet the demand of his title of Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin. Between his eyes was a mole in shape like to the crescent moon of the third day. Hence the appellation and its meaning application; for as the moon waxed to its full, so did the Sho[u]nin with advancing years wax great in learning, and throw his increasing light upon mankind. Of this first prior there is a tale. It was the period of the Ashikaga wars, and the Sho[u]nin, for safety and on business of his order, was resident for the nonce at Asonuma in Kotsuké province. As he prayed and wrought in the night, without rose violent sound of fighting and disturbance. Rising he looked forth. Two bands of men at direst odds displayed the greatest cruelty to each other. But what men! Emaciated to flesh and bone, weird and unhappy of face, the Sho[u]nin saw that these were not of this world. His determination was at once taken. Rosary in hand and intoning the _nembutsu_ he stepped forth. The strife parted before him; its actors were prostrate in his presence. "What means this fierceness of battle?" asked the prelate. "Surely ye are not of the world, thus without mercy to strive to do such pitiless cruelty."--"Not of this world," said one raising his head; "but no more cruel than men in the flesh. In the Gempei wars, fighting we lost our lives. Our bodies tumbled promiscuously into one common ditch, without rites or worship, the grudge still continues through the decades. Deign, honoured priest, the aid of prayers of one so holy, for the rest of all." Gladly the prior grasped the opportunity--"For such surely is the charm of the Sacred Name--the paper with the sacred characters of the Nembutsu, Namu Amida Butsu. Not this ignorant foolish cleric, but the vow of the Nyo[u]rai, Amida, relieves you from the Hell of fighting (Shurado[u]). Deign to accept the charm and enter Nirvana." Gladly the outstretched hands received it. Then all vanished in a mist. On the following day with discretion and modesty the prior told his experience to his open mouthed and credulous disciples. An ancient man of the place was found to point out where tradition placed the burial and its mound. The bones found on digging were sorted, and with rites found burial. Never after were prior, disciples, or villagers troubled with these visions. But the prior's reputation took an upward bound, to the credit of his sect. Thus it was with his successor--himself a true Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin in the illumination of his learning--"From his youth he had abandoned the world, and all the scripture had passed under his eyes. At eighteen years he knew all the _sutra_ and the doctrines of Shaka (Sakyamuni), and books whether exoteric or esoteric. Moreover he understood thoroughly astrology and almanacs, the poetry of Morokoshi (China) and Nippon, and instrumental music. Truly once heard he knew ten times, so clever he was." It was to this Saint, in his eighty-second year, that the order came to lay the ghost of O'Kiku, to dispel the disorderly spectres of the well of the Yoshida Goten. "A difficult, nay a severe task; but one well within the power and mercy of the Buddha. To-night we go forth to the attempt. Let all exert themselves." His subject clerics bowed low--"Respectfully heard and obeyed." They liked it not. The nights were cold; the place noted for bad company, and bad weather. But the order of their head was not to be disobeyed. With the first watches of the stormy night the Sho[u]nin and some thirty priests were assembled about the well curb. Earnestly the Sho[u]nin read the sacred writing. Vigorously his followers made the responses. Louder the voices and greater their confidence as the night progressed without sign of visions. Then said the Sho[u]nin--"Surely great is the efficacy of the _sutra_. Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu! All evil visions and spectres vanish; to seek the peace and oblivion of Nirvana. Let the event prove the efficacy of the charm."--"Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!" Loud the voices of the priests, but now in terror. The bell of Gekkeiji was striking the hour of the ox (1 A.M.). Crouching and shivering they saw the spectral lighting up of the well. The blue glittering points began to dot its mouth. Then swarms of spectres began to pour forth, obscene and horrible. Among them appeared the ghost of O'Kiku. Stricken with fear the priests stopped all reading of the holy writ. Flat on their faces, their buttocks elevated high for great concealment, they crouched in a huddled mass. "Namu Amida Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu! Spare us, good ghosts--thus disturbed most rudely in your nightly haunt and revels. Ha! Ah! One's very marrow turns to ice. No more! No more! Away!" But the Sho[u]nin held firm. Surrounded by the jibing menacing mass of spirits, steadily and without fear he hung on to his scroll, read the _sutra_, intoned the _nembutsu_. One by one his company stole away; as did the spectres with approaching dawn. He did not reproach his flock. Said the prior to the shamed assembly--by daylight: "Surely this is a very difficult undertaking. This curse of the dead is no ordinary one. It is a soul without light, of some highly debauched sinner, of some woman vowed to eternal hate. Deep the malignancy; but deeper yet the efficacy of Mida's vow. Seven nights will do it. Let all make every effort." He looked around, with trace of gentle rebuke--"We are men who have left the world (_shukké_). Why then fear the dead; when ye are part and parcel of them? Perhaps greater company is needed." He sought it from his fellow priors. From Shiba to Asakusa they swarmed. With fifty, with seventy, with a hundred and seventy priests, all reciting the _Sutra_, intoning the _nembutsu_, the noise and confusion rose high above the sound of storm and spectre. Sleep was banished far and wide thereabouts. But this could not last. "One, two, three, four...." with the counting of the plates the chilling heart rending shriek, the wail of the unhappy girl, the stoutest volunteers quailed and with their hands shut out the spectral vision. These volunteers disappeared with the second week of recitation entered on by the Sho[u]nin. Even his own band began to fail him. They sent substitutes, in the shape of the temple servants, the lowest grade, the Shoké Sama. When a third week was announced, as sure to accomplish the exorcism, there was open rebellion. It was with sadness and admiration that the Sho[u]nin saw his band thus reduced to a few faithful men, the oldest of his flock, almost as old as himself--and these deaf, blind, and almost dumb. "Ah! It is a tremendous affair. Deep the malignancy of this curse. This foolish priest has overrated his reputation with the Buddha. Great the discredit to the sect and temple at the wide heralded failure." He felt as ill and out of sorts away from the presence of the vision, as did his disciples in its presence. He was old and foolish and over-confident. The prior slept on his cushion, his robes still wet with the storm and rain of the previous night. Then came a woman, dressed in sombre garb. Approaching the sleeping priest she wrote upon his sleeve the character _ki_ [ki], bowed reverently, and disappeared. He awoke seeming to hear her footsteps. How clear was this dream! The character _ki_, what did it portend? The Buddha would not fail his priest. Taking himself to the altar he prostrated himself before the seated figure. Then he prayed. And as he prayed--perhaps resumed his nap--wonderful to say again the character [ki] appeared, this time on the Buddha's sleeve. The Sho[u]nin rubbed his eyes. Was he awake or dreaming? He did not know. "_Ki_," the chance, the opportunity that the successful man in every undertaking grasps, where others fail. He must apply it to his own calling and the crisis. They exercised their brains; he was reputed to be well furnished. This next night was the last of the third seven days. Failing favourable issue he would take up his staff and depart to other place, never to reappear in the beloved precincts of his hall. Thus inspired he thought and thought. The grave, kindly, piercing eyes became brighter and brighter. Then his monks came running in surprise and alarm. The reverend prior was laughing--not in merriment, but with the joy of him who has found the successful issue to be so plain and easy. This last and critical night in storm and riot proved to be the worst of all. Said the Sho[u]nin with grave kindness--"This night the Sho[u]nin goes; others need not accompany." All rejoiced--until they saw his preparation to face the rain and cold. Then they weakened, and all plead to accompany him. Splendid the train assembled around the well curb. Again the reading of the _sutra_ began, the intonation of the _nembutsu_. Again the clerics cursed their ill timed enthusiasm, which brought them out in the storm and to such unseemly company. Again the ghosts issued forth from the old well in their obscene riot. Jeering, menacing they swarmed around the frightened priestly band. Immoveable the prior. Natural and supernatural seemed to hang on the issue between priest and spectres. The figure of O'Kiku, wan, sad, malignant appeared. She counted--"One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...."--"Ten!" shouted the Sho[u]nin, extending the Junen. "Ara! What joy! None lack. Ah! By the Sho[u]nin's virtue this Kiku secures Nirvana. Gratitude and obeisance are due." With the words the figure faded, the spectres disappeared, the storm rumbled and passed off rapidly to the distance, and the stars shone out on the cold clear sky of a perfect fall night with its studded firmament. Thus did the Sho[u]nin find the secret in the _ten_ repetition of the sacred formula--the _ju_ nen. On her finger stumps O'Kiku counted--counted as does the successful man in the business of life. But O'Kiku was maimed. The thumb was lacking. Hence the tale went but to nine. The missing factor once supplied her count found completion. Long had been accomplished her vow of indignant vengeance, but still the plates remained to count for her own release, and this she could not effect. Great was the reputation thus acquired to priest and temple. Probably it was this feat which has confused him with his greater predecessor, the founder of the temple; transferred most anachronistically to this latter the tradition of the actual laying of the ghost. There is an old book[35] in which the matter is discussed--"It was in the old well that Kikujo[u] was drowned, says tradition in Sho[u]ho[u] 3rd year (1646). By the ability, merit, and power of Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin her soul was saved, and at once she became a Buddha. Though such be the story, by the temple register the founder of the Dendzu-In, Ryo[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin, entered the Hall in O[u]ei 22nd year 9th month 27th day (29th October 1415). One smiles. Ho! The Sho[u]nin lived two hundred and fifty-six years before, and dates do not amalgamate. How many generations had the Sho[u]nin seen when Kikujo[u] became a Buddha! The Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin becomes a bubble Sho[u]nin. The learning of this Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin was notorious, and it has been banded down to people of later generations in matters concerning Ryo[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin. Deign to take a glance at facts here indicated. The 'Edo Bukkaku Ryakuden' (Epitomised Record of Buddhist teaching in Edo) says under the heading 'Muryo[u]zan Jukyo[u]ji Dendzu-in'-- 'Koishikawa Ji-in: 600 _koku_ (income). The founder was Yurensha Ryo[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin, early in the Meitoku period (1390-1393). This Sho[u]nin had between his eyebrows the figure of the moon on the third day. Later people called him Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin. Native of Jo[u]shu[u] he was the son of the castle lord of Iwasé in Kujigo[u]ri, Shirayoshi Shima no Kami Yoshimitsu. Through prayer at the Iwasé Myo[u]jin his mother became pregnant. He was born Riaku-O[u] 4th year 1st month 24th day (11th February 1311). Later his father was killed in battle, and the mother took him to the Jo[u]fukuji, at So[u]jiyama. Putting him in charge of Sho[u]jitsu Sho[u]nin his head was shaved. At eight years old he was received at the Mikkyo[u] (Shingon) Ho[u]don-In Yuzon. Taishu[u] (secret cult) was learned through the teaching of Shingen Ho[u]shi. The Zenshu[u] was taught by the aged Tajima no Temmei and Gwatsuryu[u]. Shinto[u] by Jibu no Tayu Morosuké. In the poetry of Nippon he followed Tona, for ancient and modern example. He wrote ten books of importance. Noted for learning, in Eiwa 4th year (1378) he was transferred to Taitei-san O[u]sho[u]-in Nan-ryu[u]bo[u] in Shimotsuké no Kuni. Here he taught the seed of the Law. The son of Chiba Sadatané, Toku Sendai Maru, had a younger brother. It was he who founded the Zo[u]jo[u]ji and became Yu[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin. Ryo[u]yo[u] Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin died in O[u]ei 27th year 9th month 27th day (3rd November 1420). The San-en-zan Kwo[u]-do[u]-in Zo[u]jo[u]ji had to fief 10540 _koku_. It is the chief seat of the Jo[u]do[u] sect in the Kwanto[u], and its schools swarm with students.' The large hanging bell of this Zo[u]jo[u]ji (_tsurigané_) has the thickness of a foot. At the time it was the largest of all bells. In the temple record it says that the Sho[u]nin of Shiba San-en-zan, generation following generation, were highly noted for learning. From Ryo[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin the predecessor the principles must have been inherited. Hence in the foolish talk of people the honoured name of the Sho[u]nin was borrowed and adopted into the affair of Kikujo[u], as of the noted and erudite priest Mikatsuki Sho[u]nin; no matter of offence." But no such laboured explanation is required. The sanctity of learning, the inheritance in these bishops and priors of the merits of those who went before, has kept and keeps the appellation in the minds of the generations of the Nipponese. Ryo[u]yo[u] Sho[u]nin, his merits and his nickname, passed in the public mind to his successors. It is the laboured and learned effort of these days which fastens on the prior of Dendzu-in the tales of the long past founder of the temple. It was the learned Osho[u] of the time of Tsunayoshi Ko[u], that fifth Sho[u]gun--the Inu Kubo--basely devout and devoted to the Buddha's Law, when to save the life of a dog (_inu_) the lives of men were sacrificed on the execution ground.[36] The piety and learning of the great priest surely is needed to counterbalance the cruel folly of his master. Both qualities of this later cleric were the needed light in this period so dark for men. In which the wife, more faithful to tradition and the land, drove her dagger into the Sho[u]gun's heart, and kept from his seat and succession the favoured person of his catamite.[37] To be sure the little lady, of _kugé_ not _samurai_ stock, daughter of the Kwampaku (Premier) Takatsukasa Fusasuké, of courage and truly noble stock, then used the dagger on herself; and has kept busy ever since the historians of Nippon, official and other kinds, in explanation of how "it didn't happen." This is but a tale of outside scribes, to explain the taking off between night and morning of a perfectly well man (or divinity)--not sanctified with official and Tokugawal benediction; and no wonder. The tale and the event was not one to brag of. And the lady died too--very shortly. The eagerness to ascribe a local habitat to the story of the Sarayashiki has led to-day to some curious confusions, dovetailing into each other. To follow Ho[u]gyu[u]sha--in the far off quarter of Yanaka Sansaki, near the Negishi cut of the Northern Railway, is the Nonaka well. Despite its far removal this _pool_ is ascribed to O'Kiku, as the one time well of the Yoshida Goten. As fact--in Sho[u]ho[u] a harlot, by name Kashiwaki, ransomed by a guest here established herself. Death or desertion cut her off from the lover, and she turned nun. The place at that time was mere moorland, and the well near by the hut had the name of the Nonaka no Ido--the well amid the moor. In time the lady and her frailty disappeared, and the kindly villagers buried her close to the hut, scene of her penance. "Vain the tranquil water mid the moor--mere surface; Gone, nought remains--of the reflection." Her well? People call it now the _yobi-ido_, the calling well, a pool furnished by springs and some thirty feet in diameter. Now only a few _cho[u]_ (hundred yards) to the north of Sansaki, at the Komizo no Hashi of Sakanoshita, is an old mound called the grave of O'Kiku. "Here a small seven faced monument has been erected. But this is not the O'Kiku of the Sarayashiki. This woman named Kiku died of an incurable disease. As her dying wish she asserted that any who suffered pain from incurable disease had but to pray to her to receive relief. With this vow she died." It is the connection between this Kiku and the _yobi-ido_ which has so transferred the well established site of this old story. * * * * * Thus comes to a finish these tales of the Edo Bancho[u], the story of the Sarayashiki with its cruel fate of the unhappy Kikujo[u], the Lady of the Plates. Long had the distressed figure of the wretched girl ceased its wailing over the never completed tale of the porcelain plates. But the memory of her misfortunes, of the ill-omened well of the Yoshida Goten has remained for centuries in the mind, and thought, and speech of Nippon. Up to the early years of Meiji the Ko[u]jimachi-ido still existed, to be pointed out to the superstitious ever present in this land. The Bancho[u], for many decades of years, had become the crowded Bancho[u] of the proverb which asserts that one born and living out life therein, yet could not be expected to know the windings and intricacies of its many ways and byways. In time the _yashiki_ of _hatamoto_ disappeared; in recent years to make way for a residential quarter of prosperous tradesmen, minor officials; nay, for bigger fish who swim in the troubled waters of court and politics. The old Ko[u]jimachi village, with its bustling street and many shops, remains. True the old well has gone the way of the ruined _yashiki_ of Aoyama Shu[u]zen, of the waste land ([sarado]) on which at one time both stood. But to this very day the tradition remains firm and clear. So much so that those who leave their homes, to fail of reappearance ever after, are spoken of as having met the fate of the unhappy victims of the Ko[u]jimachi-ido. To quote again the very ancient poem in assertion of the verity of its evil influence: "Yoshida: to passers by the token; Long sleeves wave invitation." Yokohama--21st September to 14th November, 1916. --FINIS.-- To follow--The Hizakurige (To[u]kaido[u]) of Jippensha Ikku--in English. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: Benincasa hispida (Brinkley).] [Footnote 2: Of about fifteen dollars in terms of present money.] [Footnote 3: Comments the scribe of Nippon (Matsubayashi Hakuen)--"This kind is not the animal known as fox. There are foxes in human shape which extort money. They dwell round about Yoshiwara and Shinagawa. These are found in the Shin-Yoshiwara. In Meiji 33rd year 8th month liberty was granted to give up their occupation. Blowing wide cast a fox fever, the brothels of the Yoshiwara displayed a magnificent confusion. In round terms Tokyo town was in an uncontrolled disorder. Among these human foxes there was a guild, and this was the source of the tumult."] [Footnote 4: Mizuno Juro[u]zaémon Shigemoto, son of Hiuga no Kami Katsunari. He was ordered to commit _seppuku_ (cut belly) for the assassination of Bandzuin Cho[u]bei: Kwanbun 4 year 3 month 27 day (22 April 1664).] [Footnote 5: _Kokorozashi wa matsu no ha to moshimasu_.] [Footnote 6: Second daughter of Hidétada; wife of the Prince of Echizen.] [Footnote 7: At the severest cold, clad in breech clout, or thinnest of white linen, the pilgrim after sunset makes his round of the temples for worship.] [Footnote 8: The Pluto of Indian (Yama), Chinese and Japanese (Emma) mythology. Dai-O[u] (Great King). Cf. Eitel's "Chinese Buddhism," p. 207.] [Footnote 9: Other accounts say that these heroes used--pith bullets.] [Footnote 10: He was of great strength, and is said to have carried the Sho[u]gun in his palanquin on his shoulders himself back to Edo in the flight from Suzume no Miya. With the approval of Iyemitsu he forced his way into the castle gate, thereby incurring official censure and banishment to an island--to Hitotsu no Jima, or the present Ishikawa Jima at the mouth of the Sumidagawa! The sentence was purely formal. His favour with Iyemitsu was very high owing to this Tsuritenjo[u] (hanging ceiling) affair.] [Footnote 11: These stories were not likely to be published under a paternal Government; except in the mouths and tales of the people. Too many scandals have been "excerpted" from the official histories and records of Nippon to have a robust confidence in what is left. The _ko[u]dan_ lecturers and writers make the Senhimégimi, eldest daughter of Hidétada, the heroine of the scandals emanating from the Yoshida Goten. History refers them to the Takata no Kata. But this lady left powerful issue. Not so the Senhimégimi (Princess Sen), in ways a splendid woman. Better known as the Tenju-in-Den she lies buried under a most imposing monument at the Dendzu-in in Tokyo. Tenju-in-Den lived to over eighty years; the Takata no Kata died, aged seventy-two years.] [Footnote 12: _Itsuwari to omoi sutenaba ikani sen; Sue kakete chigiri mo aru wo afu yo sae; Iku sue to fuku chigiru makoto wo._ (1) _Hedatsu koro mono urami to zo omou._ (2)] [Footnote 13: Burned down a few years ago: a fire disastrous to the temple records.] [Footnote 14: Dosanbashi is the site facing the castle and lying just north of the wide avenue facing the main entrance to To[u]kyo[u] station. It ran north to Kanda bridge. It formed part of the Daimyo[u]-koji, which extended from Kandabashi to the Hibiyabashi and the Sukiyabashi at the south. Roughly speaking this Daimyo[u]-koji was the district between the inner and outer moat and the bridges mentioned, now traversed by the elevated railway from Shimbashi to the To[u]kyo[u] station. The Dosan bridge crossed a wide canal which connected the inner and outer moats with the Sumida river. The street running from Gofukubashi to the castle moat covers the site of this canal, and the bridge itself was about where the spur of the elevated railway crosses the present highway (1916). The Embukasané inspired the famous tale of Encho[u]--the "Shinkasané-ga-fuchi"--and, like many Nipponese stories, is founded on actual occurrence.] [Footnote 15: Also called, Naomori, or Narimasa, or Nariyuki.] [Footnote 16: There was great opposition to the introduction of _Kugé_ (court noble) influence into the Sho[u]gun's household at this time. The same reasons of course did not apply to marriage of Tokugawa women into the Kyo[u]to circle. The Sho[u]gunal Court was to be ruled by _samurai_ code and influence.] [Footnote 17: Marriages at that date were performed in daytime. Note in the original.] [Footnote 18: _Ume ka ka wo sakura no hana ni motase tsutsu; Yanagi no eda ni sakashite zo min._] [Footnote 19: Momogawa Jo[u]en: _ko[u]danshi_ differ in their treatment of such detail. Some emphasize it, after the manner of the chronicle; others do not.] [Footnote 20: The _Daikwan_ was the chief representative of the feudal lord in the particular circumscribed district. His authority rarely passed beyond a few miles. Note the Daikwanzaka and the site of his _yashiki_ in Yokohama (_Motomachi_).] [Footnote 21: Momokawa Jo[u]en.] [Footnote 22: Shukké, one who has left the world--turned priest--"Honoured Mr. Recluse."] [Footnote 23: The Nipponese "watches" covered two hours. Hence he had been aroused between 3-5 A.M., not 5-7 A.M. as expected.] [Footnote 24: _Dentatsu_--"Jimbei, mata 'fukeru' to itta na. Nan no kotta (kotoba) sono 'fukeru' to iu no wa." _Jimbei_--"Yai! Yai! Bo[u]zu" etc. To the erudite is left closer approximation to _fukeru_ (in _kana_). This story is told, following the details of Koganei Koshu[u] ("Yui Sho[u]setsu"). Gion, equally known for its _hetairai_.] [Footnote 25: In the vernacular.] [Footnote 26: The first--Yamaguchi etc.--are place names, from Kyu[u]shu[u] to O[u]shu[u]; widely scattered. Otherwise--"Bloody Spear" (Chiyari), "Iron Chin," "Wolf," "Fox-heart," "Iron head," "Monkey hand."] [Footnote 27: He has played on the ideographs--[kyoku-sui no en] and [kyoku-sui no en], _kyoku-sui no en_; the last meaning--"Winding water entertainment," cf. "Benkei" Vol. II. p. 195.] [Footnote 28: The _yoriki_ is hard to place--"commanding officer." He was not of the office, yet as of rank was chosen to lead these more dangerous and trying expeditions, or to act in more important arrests.] [Footnote 29: In the conspiracy of Sho[u]setsu such did exist, directed to the house of one of his followers, placed not far off in another street. [But recently such a tunnel was discovered under the garden of Baron Sakatani at Haramachi, Koishikawa, To[u]kyo[u]; believed to belong to the Hakusan Goten, and dating 250 years back. 20th May, 1917].] [Footnote 30: Brinkley's Dictionary gives it--_Ichiju no kagé ni yadori, ichiga no nagare wo kumu mo, mina kore tasho[u] no en narubeshi_.] [Footnote 31: Sho[u]ho[u] 3rd year the New Year fell on 16th February (1646) of the modern calendar.] [Footnote 32: _Rangiku ya: kitsuné ni no se yo[u] kono sugata. Rangiku_ = Caryopteris mastachantus.] [Footnote 33: In Buddhist theology the seventh day is one of the important dates of the _hotokés_ (deceased spirit) sojourn upon Earth.] [Footnote 34: Pradjna--"highest of the six pâramitâ, principal means of attaining Nirvana, knowledge of the illusory character of all existence." Eitel--p. 119.] [Footnote 35: The quotation and what follows is from Ho[u]gyu[u]sha To[u]ko[u]--"Bancho[u] Sarayashiki." The exactness of these old temple registers in essential dates is worth noting.] [Footnote 36: Tsunayoshi 1646-1709. A vassal of Akita Danjo[u] killed a swallow. He was executed; his children were executed; and he and his are but one case out of many.] [Footnote 37: Or son, by the more respectful account. Yanagizawa Yoshiyasu took the name of Matsudaira. His son Yoshishige, said really to be the son of Tsunayoshi by the wife of Yoshiyasu, was to be adopted by Echizen no Kami Tadanao, brother and heir to the Sho[u]gun. Tadanao "removed," left the field open to the success (and succession) of the powerful premier. Yanagizawa as _tairo[u]_ (premier) was an irregularity in itself.] * * * * * +------------------------------------------------------------+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | Page v: The modern kanji character has been used for | | yeast (_ko[u]ji_) | | Page 11: crysanthemum amended to chrysanthemum | | Page 22: masterhand amended to master hand; rotten | | amended to rotted | | Page 26: embarassment amended to embarrassment | | Page 29: on amended to an | | Page 41: missing /s/ in gesture added | | Page 47: made amended to make; pallour amended to pallor | | Page 51: villanious amended to villainous | | Page 57: dependant amended to dependent | | Page 59: state raft amended to statecraft | | Page 63: circumambiant amended to circumambient | | Page 69: spoken off amended to spoken of | | Page 73: milklivered amended to milk livered | | Page 95: gallopping amended to galloping | | Page 102: herhaps amended to perhaps | | Page 105 et seq.: superintendant amended to | | superintendent | | Page 132: preceded amended to proceeded | | Page 140: lead amended to led | | Page 143: Aoyoma amended to Aoyama; embarassment amended | | to embarrassment | | Page 147: exhilirating amended to exhilarating | | Page 169: astonishly amended to astonishingly | | Page 171: mits amended to mitts | | Page 173: he amended to be | | Page 175: quid amended to squid | | Page 176: multidinous amended to multitudinous | | Page 182: peel amended to peal | | Page 192: exhuberant amended to exuberant | | Page 212: condescenscion amended to condescension; | | effiminacy amended to effeminacy | | Page 213: icely amended to icily | | Page 214: maccaroni amended to macaroni | | Page 221: conferrence sic, meaning conferring | | Page 227: squshing amended to squishing | | Page 232: yashihi amended to yashiki; impertinance | | amended to impertinence | | Page 239: Ototsan replaced with Otosan | | Page 241: feint amended to faint | | Page 252: maccaroni amended to macaroni | | Page 254: maccaroni amended to macaroni; apellation | | amended to appellation | | Page 260: apellation amended to appellation | | | | Where two different spellings occur an equal number of | | times in the text, both spellings have been retained | | (Koshigeyatsu/Koshigayatsu; Surugadai/Suragadai). | | | | Where there is an equal number of instances of a word | | occurring as hyphenated and unhyphenated, the hyphens | | have been retained: Ban-gashira/Bangashira; | | fire-ward/fireward; go-kenin/gokenin; | | Kanda-bashi/Kandabashi; Mita-mura/Mitamura; | | new-comer/new comer; overlord/over-lord; | | raincoat/rain-coat; Tayasu-mura/Tayasumura; | | wheel-wright/wheelwright; | | yatsu-ho[u]ko[u]nin/yatsuho[u]ko[u]nin. | | | | The Senhimégimi: Hyphenation and/or word separation, as | | well as italicisation, is varied. The variations of Sen | | himégimi, himégimi and Senhimé have been retained as they | | appear in the text. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------+ * * * * * 
19264	----	Transcriber's Note: The accenting of the Japanese names is not consistent throughout the book. The accents are preserved as given in the book. Japanese Literature INCLUDING SELECTIONS FROM GENJI MONOGATARI AND CLASSICAL POETRY AND DRAMA OF JAPAN WITH CRITICAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES BY EPIPHANIUS WILSON, A.M. REVISED EDITION COPYRIGHT, 1900 BY THE COLONIAL PRESS * * * * * CONTENTS GENJI MONOGATARI Introduction CHAPTER I.--The Chamber of Kiri II.--The Broom-like Tree III.--Beautiful Cicada IV.--Evening Glory V.--Young Violet VI.--Saffron Flower VII.--Maple Fête VIII.--Flower-Feast IX.--Hollyhock X.--Divine Tree XI.--Villa of Falling Flowers XII.--Exile at Suma XIII.--Exile at Akashi XIV.--The Beacon XV.--Overgrown Mugwort XVI.--Barrier House XVII.--Competitive Show of Pictures CLASSICAL POETRY OF JAPAN Introduction BALLADS-- The Fisher-Boy Urashima On Seeing a Dead Body The Maiden of Unáhi The Grave of the Maiden of Unáhi The Maiden of Katsushika The Beggar's Complaint A Soldier's Regrets on Leaving Home LOVE SONGS-- On Beholding the Mountain Love is Pain Hitomaro to His Mistress No Tidings Homeward The Maiden and the Dog Love is All Husband and Wife He Comes Not He and She The Pearls A Damsel Crossing a Bridge Secret Love The Omen A Maiden's Lament Rain and Snow Mount Mikash Evening ELEGIES-- On the Death of the Mikado Tenji On the Death of the Poet's Mistress Elegy on the Poet's Wife On the Death of Prince Hinami On the Death of the Nun Riguwañ On the Poet's Son, Furubi Short Stanza on the Same Occasion MISCELLANEOUS POEMS-- View from Mount Kago The Mikado's Bow Spring and Autumn Spring Recollections of My Children The Brook of Hatsúse Lines to a Friend A Very Ancient Ode The Bridge to Heaven Ode to the Cuckoo The Ascent of Mount Tsukúba Couplet SHORT STANZAS THE DRAMA OF JAPAN Nakamitsu Abstraction * * * * * GENJI MONOGATARI BY MURASAKI SHIKIB [_Translated into English by Suyematz Kenchio_] INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR Genji Monogatari,[1] the original of this translation, is one of the standard works of Japanese literature. It has been regarded for centuries as a national treasure. The title of the work is by no means unknown to those Europeans who take an interest in Japanese matters, for it is mentioned or alluded to in almost every European work relating to our country. It was written by a lady, who, from her writings, is considered one of the most talented women that Japan has ever produced. She was the daughter of Fujiwara Tametoki, a petty Court noble, remotely connected with the great family of Fujiwara, in the tenth century after Christ, and was generally called Murasaki Shikib. About these names a few remarks are necessary. The word "Shikib" means "ceremonies," and is more properly a name adopted, with the addition of certain suffixes, to designate special Court offices. Thus the term "Shikib-Kiô" is synonymous with "master of the ceremonies," and "Shikib-no-Jiô" with "secretary to the master of the ceremonies." Hence it might at first sight appear rather peculiar if such an appellation should happen to be used as the name of a woman. It was, however, a custom of the period for noble ladies and their attendants to be often called after such offices, generally with the suffix "No-Kata," indicating the female sex, and somewhat corresponding to the word "madam." This probably originated in the same way as the practice in America of calling ladies by their husbands' official titles, such as Mrs. Captain, Mrs. Judge, etc., only that in the case of the Japanese custom the official title came in time to be used without any immediate association with the offices themselves, and often even as a maiden name. From this custom our authoress came to be called "Shikib," a name which did not originally apply to a person. To this another name, Murasaki, was added, in order to distinguish her from other ladies who may also have been called Shikib. "Murasaki" means "violet," whether the flower or the color. Concerning the origin of this appellation there exist two different opinions. Those holding one, derive it from her family name, Fujiwara; for "Fujiwara" literally means "the field of Wistaria," and the color of the Wistaria blossom is violet. Those holding the other, trace it to the fact that out of several persons introduced into the story, Violet (Murasaki in the text) is a most modest and gentle woman, whence it is thought that the admirers of the work transferred the name to the authoress herself. In her youth she was maid of honor to a daughter of the then prime minister, who became eventually the wife of the Emperor Ichijiô, better known by her surname, Jiôtô-Monin, and who is especially famous as having been the patroness of our authoress. Murasaki Shikib married a noble, named Nobtaka, to whom she bore a daughter, who, herself, wrote a work of fiction, called "Sagoromo" (narrow sleeves). She survived her husband, Nobtaka, some years, and spent her latter days in quiet retirement, dying in the year 992 after Christ. The diary which she wrote during her retirement is still in existence, and her tomb may yet be seen in a Buddhist temple in Kiôto, the old capital where the principal scenes of her story are laid. The exact date when her story was written is not given in the work, but her diary proves that it was evidently composed before she arrived at old age. The traditional account given of the circumstances which preceded the writing of the story is this: when the above-mentioned Empress was asked by the Saigû (the sacred virgin of the temple of Ise) if her Majesty could not procure an interesting romance for her, because the older fictions had become too familiar, she requested Shikib to write a new one, and the result of this request was this story. The tradition goes on to say that when this request was made Shikib retired to the Buddhist temple in Ishiyama, situated on hilly ground at the head of the picturesque river Wooji, looking down on Lake Biwa. There she betook herself to undergo the "Tooya" (confinement in a temple throughout the night), a solemn religious observance for the purpose of obtaining divine help and good success in her undertaking. It was the evening of the fifteenth of August. Before her eyes the view extended for miles. In the silver lake below, the pale face of the full moon was reflected in the calm, mirror-like waters, displaying itself in indescribable beauty. Her mind became more and more serene as she gazed on the prospect before her, while her imagination became more and more lively as she grew calmer and calmer. The ideas and incidents of the story, which she was about to write, stole into her mind as if by divine influence. The first topic which struck her most strongly was that given in the chapters on exile. These she wrote down immediately, in order not to allow the inspiration of the moment to be lost, on the back of a roll of Daihannia (the Chinese translation of Mahâprajñâpâramitâ, one of the Buddhist Sûtras), and formed subsequently two chapters in the text, the Suma and Akashi, all the remaining parts of the work having been added one by one. It is said that this idea of exile came naturally to her mind, because a prince who had been known to her from her childhood had been an exile at Kiûsiû, a little before this period. It is also said that the authoress afterwards copied the roll of Daihannia with her own hand, in expiation of her having profanely used it as a notebook, and that she dedicated it to the Temple, in which there is still a room where she is alleged to have written down the story. A roll of Daihannia is there also, which is asserted to be the very same one copied by her. How far these traditions are in accordance with fact may be a matter of question, but thus they have come down to us, and are popularly believed. Many Europeans, I daresay, have noticed on our lacquer work and other art objects, the representation of a lady seated at a writing-desk, with a pen held in her tiny fingers, gazing at the moon reflected in a lake. This lady is no other than our authoress. The number of chapters in the modern text of the story is fifty-four, one of these having the title only and nothing else. There is some reason to believe that there might have existed a few additional chapters. Of these fifty-four chapters, the first forty-one relate to the life and adventures of Prince Genji; and those which come after refer principally to one of his sons. The last ten are supposed to have been added by another hand, generally presumed to have been that of her daughter. This is conjectured because the style of these final chapters is somewhat dissimilar to that of those which precede. The period of time covered by the entire story is some sixty years, and this volume of translation comprises the first seventeen chapters. The aims which the authoress seems always to have kept in view are revealed to us at some length by the mouth of her hero: "ordinary histories," he is made to say, "are the mere records of events, and are generally treated in a one-sided manner. They give no insight into the true state of society. This, however, is the very sphere on which romances principally dwell. Romances," he continues, "are indeed fictions, but they are by no means always pure inventions; their only peculiarities being these, that in them the writers often trace out, among numerous real characters, the best, when they wish to represent the good, and the oddest, when they wish to amuse." From these remarks we can plainly see that our authoress fully understood the true vocation of a romance writer, and has successfully realized the conception in her writings. The period to which her story relates is supposed to be the earlier part of the tenth century after Christ, a time contemporary with her own life. For some centuries before this period, our country had made a signal progress in civilization by its own internal development, and by the external influence of the enlightenment of China, with whom we had had for some time considerable intercourse. No country could have been happier than was ours at this epoch. It enjoyed perfect tranquillity, being alike free from all fears of foreign invasion and domestic commotions. Such a state of things, however, could not continue long without producing some evils; and we can hardly be surprised to find that the Imperial capital became a sort of centre of comparative luxury and idleness. Society lost sight, to a great extent, of true morality, and the effeminacy of the people constituted the chief feature of the age. Men were ever ready to carry on sentimental adventures whenever they found opportunities, and the ladies of the time were not disposed to disencourage them altogether. The Court was the focus of society, and the utmost ambition of ladies of some birth was to be introduced there. As to the state of politics, the Emperor, it is true, reigned; but all the real power was monopolized by members of the Fujiwara families. These, again, vied among themselves for the possession of this power, and their daughters were generally used as political instruments, since almost all the Royal consorts were taken from some of these families. The abdication of an emperor was a common event, and arose chiefly from the intrigues of these same families, although partly from the prevailing influence of Buddhism over the public mind. Such, then, was the condition of society at the time when the authoress, Murasaki Shikib, lived; and such was the sphere of her labors, a description of which she was destined to hand down to posterity by her writings. In fact, there is no better history than her story, which so vividly illustrates the society of her time. True it is that she openly declares in one passage of her story that politics are not matters which women are supposed to understand; yet, when we carefully study her writings, we can scarcely fail to recognize her work as a partly political one. This fact becomes more vividly interesting when we consider that the unsatisfactory conditions of both the state and society soon brought about a grievous weakening of the Imperial authority, and opened wide the gate for the ascendency of the military class. This was followed by the systematic formation of feudalism, which, for some seven centuries, totally changed the face of Japan. For from the first ascendency of this military system down to our own days everything in society--ambitions, honors, the very temperament and daily pursuits of men, and political institutes themselves--became thoroughly unlike those of which our authoress was an eye-witness. I may almost say that for several centuries Japan never recovered the ancient civilization which she had once attained and lost. Another merit of the work consists in its having been written in pure classical Japanese; and here it may be mentioned that we had once made a remarkable progress in our own language quite independently of any foreign influence, and that when the native literature was at first founded, its language was identical with that spoken. Though the predominance of Chinese studies had arrested the progress of the native literature, it was still extant at the time, and even for some time after the date of our authoress. But with the ascendency of the military class, the neglect of all literature became for centuries universal. The little that has been preserved is an almost unreadable chaos of mixed Chinese and Japanese. Thus a gulf gradually opened between the spoken and the written language. It has been only during the last two hundred and fifty years that our country has once more enjoyed a long continuance of peace, and has once more renewed its interest in literature. Still Chinese has occupied the front rank, and almost monopolized attention. It is true that within the last sixty or seventy years numerous works of fiction of different schools have been produced, mostly in the native language, and that these, when judged as stories, generally excel in their plots those of the classical period. The status, however, of these writers has never been recognized by the public, nor have they enjoyed the same degree of honor as scholars of a different description. Their style of composition, moreover, has never reached the same degree of refinement which distinguished the ancient works. This last is a strong reason for our appreciation of true classical works such as that of our authoress. Again, the concise description of scenery, the elegance of which it is almost impossible to render with due force in another language, and the true and delicate touches of human nature which everywhere abound in the work, especially in the long dialogue in Chapter II, are almost marvellous when we consider the sex of the writer, and the early period when she wrote. Yet this work affords fair ground for criticism. The thread of her story is often diffuse and somewhat disjointed, a fault probably due to the fact that she had more flights of imagination than power of equal and systematic condensation: she having been often carried away by that imagination from points where she ought to have rested. But, on the other hand, in most parts the dialogue is scanty, which might have been prolonged to considerable advantage, if it had been framed on models of modern composition. The work, also, is too voluminous. In translating I have cut out several passages which appeared superfluous, though nothing has been added to the original. The authoress has been by no means exact in following the order of dates, though this appears to have proceeded from her endeavor to complete each distinctive group of ideas in each particular chapter. In fact she had even left the chapters unnumbered, simply contenting herself with a brief heading, after which each is now called, such as "Chapter Kiri-Tsubo," etc., so that the numbering has been undertaken by the translator for the convenience of the reader. It has no extraordinarily intricate plot like those which excite the readers of the sensational romances of the modern western style. It has many heroines, but only one hero, and this comes no doubt from the peculiar purpose of the writer to portray different varieties and shades of female characters at once, as is shadowed in Chapter II, and also to display the intense fickleness and selfishness of man. I notice these points beforehand in order to prepare the reader for the more salient faults of the work. On the whole my principal object is not so much to amuse my readers as to present them with a study of human nature, and to give them information on the history of the social and political condition of my native country nearly a thousand years ago. They will be able to compare it with the condition of mediæval and modern Europe. Another peculiarity of the work to which I would draw attention is that, with few exceptions, it does not give proper names to the personages introduced; for the male characters official titles are generally employed, and to the principal female ones some appellation taken from an incident belonging to the history of each; for instance, a girl is named Violet because the hero once compared her to that flower, while another is called Yûgao because she was found in a humble dwelling where the flowers of the Yûgao covered the hedges with a mantle of blossom. I have now only to add that the translation is, perhaps, not always idiomatic, though in this matter I have availed myself of some valuable assistance, for which I feel most thankful. SUYEMATZ KENCHIO. _Tokyo, Japan._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 1: Which means, "The Romance of Genji."] GENJI MONOGATARI CHAPTER I THE CHAMBER OF KIRI[2] In the reign of a certain Emperor, whose name is unknown to us, there was, among the Niogo[76] and Kôyi[3] of the Imperial Court, one who, though she was not of high birth, enjoyed the full tide of Royal favor. Hence her superiors, each one of whom had always been thinking--"I shall be the _one_," gazed upon her disdainfully with malignant eyes, and her equals and inferiors were more indignant still. Such being the state of affairs, the anxiety which she had to endure was great and constant, and this was probably the reason why her health was at last so much affected, that she was often compelled to absent herself from Court, and to retire to the residence of her mother. Her father, who was a Dainagon,[4] was dead; but her mother, being a woman of good sense, gave her every possible guidance in the due performance of Court ceremony, so that in this respect she seemed but little different from those whose fathers and mothers were still alive to bring them before public notice, yet, nevertheless, her friendliness made her oftentimes feel very diffident from the want of any patron of influence. These circumstances, however, only tended to make the favor shown to her by the Emperor wax warmer and warmer, and it was even shown to such an extent as to become a warning to after-generations. There had been instances in China in which favoritism such as this had caused national disturbance and disaster; and thus the matter became a subject of public animadversion, and it seemed not improbable that people would begin to allude even to the example of Yô-ki-hi.[5] In due course, and in consequence, we may suppose, of the Divine blessing on the sincerity of their affection, a jewel of a little prince was born to her. The first prince who had been born to the Emperor was the child of Koki-den-Niogo,[6] the daughter of the Udaijin (a great officer of State). Not only was he first in point of age, but his influence on his mother's side was so great that public opinion had almost unanimously fixed upon him as heir-apparent. Of this the Emperor was fully conscious, and he only regarded the new-born child with that affection which one lavishes on a domestic favorite. Nevertheless, the mother of the first prince had, not unnaturally, a foreboding that unless matters were managed adroitly her child might be superseded by the younger one. She, we may observe, had been established at Court before any other lady, and had more children than one. The Emperor, therefore, was obliged to treat her with due respect, and reproaches from her always affected him more keenly than those of any others. To return to her rival. Her constitution was extremely delicate, as we have seen already, and she was surrounded by those who would fain lay bare, so to say, her hidden scars. Her apartments in the palace were Kiri-Tsubo (the chamber of Kiri); so called from the trees that were planted around. In visiting her there the Emperor had to pass before several other chambers, whose occupants universally chafed when they saw it. And again, when it was her turn to attend upon the Emperor, it often happened that they played off mischievous pranks upon her, at different points in the corridor, which leads to the Imperial quarters. Sometimes they would soil the skirts of her attendants, sometimes they would shut against her the door of the covered portico, where no other passage existed; and thus, in every possible way, they one and all combined to annoy her. The Emperor at length became aware of this, and gave her, for her special chamber, another apartment, which was in the Kôrô-Den, and which was quite close to those in which he himself resided. It had been originally occupied by another lady who was now removed, and thus fresh resentment was aroused. When the young Prince was three years old the Hakamagi[7] took place. It was celebrated with a pomp scarcely inferior to that which adorned the investiture of the first Prince. In fact, all available treasures were exhausted on the occasion. And again the public manifested its disapprobation. In the summer of the same year the Kiri-Tsubo-Kôyi became ill, and wished to retire from the palace. The Emperor, however, who was accustomed to see her indisposed, strove to induce her to remain. But her illness increased day by day; and she had drooped and pined away until she was now but a shadow of her former self. She made scarcely any response to the affectionate words and expressions of tenderness which her Royal lover caressingly bestowed upon her. Her eyes were half-closed: she lay like a fading flower in the last stage of exhaustion, and she became so much enfeebled that her mother appeared before the Emperor and entreated with tears that she might be allowed to leave. Distracted by his vain endeavors to devise means to aid her, the Emperor at length ordered a Te-gruma[8] to be in readiness to convey her to her own home, but even then he went to her apartment and cried despairingly: "Did not we vow that we would neither of us be either before or after the other even in travelling the last long journey of life? And can you find it in your heart to leave me now?" Sadly and tenderly looking up, she thus replied, with almost failing breath:-- "Since my departure for this dark journey, Makes you so sad and lonely, Fain would I stay though weak and weary, And live for your sake only!" "Had I but known this before--" She appeared to have much more to say, but was too weak to continue. Overpowered with grief, the Emperor at one moment would fain accompany her himself, and at another moment would have her remain to the end where she then was. At the last, her departure was hurried, because the exorcism for the sick had been appointed to take place on that evening at her home, and she went. The child Prince, however, had been left in the Palace, as his mother wished, even at that time, to make her withdrawal as privately as possible, so as to avoid any invidious observations on the part of her rivals. To the Emperor the night now became black with gloom. He sent messenger after messenger to make inquiries, and could not await their return with patience. Midnight came, and with it the sound of lamentation. The messenger, who could do nothing else, hurried back with the sad tidings of the truth. From that moment the mind of the Emperor was darkened, and he confined himself to his private apartments. He would still have kept with himself the young Prince now motherless, but there was no precedent for this, and it was arranged that he should be sent to his grandmother for the mourning. The child, who understood nothing, looked with amazement at the sad countenances of the Emperor, and of those around him. All separations have their sting, but sharp indeed was the sting in a case like this. Now the funeral took place. The weeping and wailing mother, who might have longed to mingle in the same flames,[9] entered a carriage, accompanied by female mourners. The procession arrived at the cemetery of Otagi, and the solemn rites commenced. What were then the thoughts of the desolate mother? The image of her dead daughter was still vividly present to her--still seemed animated with life. She must see her remains become ashes to convince herself that she was really dead. During the ceremony, an Imperial messenger came from the Palace, and invested the dead with the title of Sammi. The letters patent were read, and listened to in solemn silence. The Emperor conferred this title now in regret that during her lifetime he had not even promoted her position from a Kôyi to a Niogo, and wishing at this last moment to raise her title at least one step higher. Once more several tokens of disapprobation were manifested against the proceeding. But, in other respects, the beauty of the departed, and her gracious bearing, which had ever commanded admiration, made people begin to think of her with sympathy. It was the excess of the Emperor's favor which had created so many detractors during her lifetime; but now even rivals felt pity for her; and if any did not, it was in the Koki-den. "When one is no more, the memory becomes so dear," may be an illustration of a case such as this. Some days passed, and due requiem services were carefully performed. The Emperor was still plunged in thought, and no society had attractions for him. His constant consolation was to send messengers to the grandmother of the child, and to make inquiries after them. It was now autumn, and the evening winds blew chill and cold. The Emperor--who, when he saw the first Prince, could not refrain from thinking of the younger one--became more thoughtful than ever; and, on this evening, he sent Yugei-no Miôbu[10] to repeat his inquiries. She went as the new moon just rose, and the Emperor stood and contemplated from his veranda the prospect spread before him. At such moments he had usually been surrounded by a few chosen friends, one of whom was almost invariably his lost love. Now she was no more. The thrilling notes of her music, the touching strains of her melodies, stole over him in his dark and dreary reverie. The Miôbu arrived at her destination; and, as she drove in, a sense of sadness seized upon her. The owner of the house had long been a widow; but the residence, in former times, had been made beautiful for the pleasure of her only daughter. Now, bereaved of this daughter, she dwelt alone; and the grounds were overgrown with weeds, which here and there lay prostrated by the violence of the winds; while over them, fair as elsewhere, gleamed the mild lustre of the impartial moon. The Miôbu entered, and was led into a front room in the southern part of the building. At first the hostess and the messenger were equally at a loss for words. At length the silence was broken by the hostess, who said:-- "Already have I felt that I have lived too long, but doubly do I feel it now that I am visited by such a messenger as you." Here she paused, and seemed unable to contend with her emotion. "When Naishi-no-Ske returned from you," said the Miôbu, "she reported to the Emperor that when she saw you, face to face, her sympathy for you was irresistible. I, too, see now how true it is!" A moment's hesitation, and she proceeded to deliver the Imperial message:-- "The Emperor commanded me to say that for some time he had wandered in his fancy, and imagined he was but in a dream; and that, though he was now more tranquil, he could not find that it was only a dream. Again, that there is no one who can really sympathize with him; and he hopes that you will come to the Palace, and talk with him. His Majesty said also that the absence of the Prince made him anxious, and that he is desirous that you should speedily make up your mind. In giving me this message, he did not speak with readiness. He seemed to fear to be considered unmanly, and strove to exercise reserve. I could not help experiencing sympathy with him, and hurried away here, almost fearing that, perhaps, I had not quite caught his full meaning." So saying, she presented to her a letter from the Emperor. The lady's sight was dim and indistinct. Taking it, therefore, to the lamp, she said, "Perhaps the light will help me to decipher," and then read as follows, much in unison with the oral message: "I thought that time only would assuage my grief; but time only brings before me more vividly my recollection of the lost one. Yet, it is inevitable. How is my boy? Of him, too, I am always thinking. Time once was when we both hoped to bring him up together. May he still be to you a memento of his mother!" Such was the brief outline of the letter, and it contained the following:-- "The sound of the wind is dull and drear Across Miyagi's[11] dewy lea, And makes me mourn for the motherless deer That sleeps beneath the Hagi tree." She put gently the letter aside, and said, "Life and the world are irksome to me; and you can see, then, how reluctantly I should present myself at the Palace. I cannot go myself, though it is painful to me to seem to neglect the honored command. As for the little Prince, I know not why he thought of it, but he seems quite willing to go. This is very natural. Please to inform his Majesty that this is our position. Very possibly, when one remembers the birth of the young Prince, it would not be well for him to spend too much of his time as he does now." Then she wrote quickly a short answer, and handed it to the Miôbu. At this time her grandson was sleeping soundly. "I should like to see the boy awake, and to tell the Emperor all about him, but he will already be impatiently awaiting my return," said the messenger. And she prepared to depart. "It would be a relief to me to tell you how a mother laments over her departed child. Visit me, then, sometimes, if you can, as a friend, when you are not engaged or pressed for time. Formerly, when you came here, your visit was ever glad and welcome; now I see in you the messenger of woe. More and more my life seems aimless to me. From the time of my child's birth, her father always looked forward to her being presented at Court, and when dying he repeatedly enjoined me to carry out that wish. You know that my daughter had no patron to watch over her, and I well knew how difficult would be her position among her fellow-maidens. Yet, I did not disobey her father's request, and she went to Court. There the Emperor showed her a kindness beyond our hopes. For the sake of that kindness she uncomplainingly endured all the cruel taunts of envious companions. But their envy ever deepening, and her troubles ever increasing, at last she passed away, worn out, as it were, with care. When I think of the matter in that light, the kindest favors seem to me fraught with misfortune. Ah! that the blind affection of a mother should make me talk in this way!" "The thoughts of his Majesty may be even as your own," said the Miôbu. "Often when he alluded to his overpowering affection for her, he said that perhaps all this might have been because their love was destined not to last long. And that though he ever strove not to injure any subject, yet for Kiri-Tsubo, and for her alone, he had sometimes caused the ill-will of others; that when all this has been done, she was no more! All this he told me in deep gloom, and added that it made him ponder on their previous existence." The night was now far advanced, and again the Miôbu rose to take leave. The moon was sailing down westward and the cool breeze was waving the herbage to and fro, in which numerous _mushi_ were plaintively singing.[12] The messenger, being still somehow unready to start, hummed-- "Fain would one weep the whole night long, As weeps the Sudu-Mushi's song, Who chants her melancholy lay, Till night and darkness pass away." As she still lingered, the lady took up the refrain-- "To the heath where the Sudu-Mushi sings, From beyond the clouds[13] one comes from on high And more dews on the grass around she flings, And adds her own, to the night wind's sigh." A Court dress and a set of beautiful ornamental hairpins, which had belonged to Kiri-Tsubo, were presented to the Miôbu by her hostess, who thought that these things, which her daughter had left to be available on such occasions, would be a more suitable gift, under present circumstances, than any other. On the return of the Miôbu she found that the Emperor had not yet retired to rest. He was really awaiting her return, but was apparently engaged in admiring the Tsubo-Senzai--or stands of flowers--which were placed in front of the palaces, and in which the flowers were in full bloom. With him were four or five ladies, his intimate friends, with whom he was conversing. In these days his favorite topic of conversation was the "Long Regret."[14] Nothing pleased him more than to gaze upon the picture of that poem, which had been painted by Prince Teishi-In, or to talk about the native poems on the same subject, which had been composed, at the Royal command, by Ise, the poetess, and by Tsurayuki, the poet. And it was in this way that he was engaged on this particular evening. To him the Miôbu now went immediately, and she faithfully reported to him all that she had seen, and she gave to him also the answer to his letter. That letter stated that the mother of Kiri-Tsubo felt honored by his gracious inquiries, and that she was so truly grateful that she scarcely knew how to express herself. She proceeded to say that his condescension made her feel at liberty to offer to him the following:-- "Since now no fostering love is found, And the Hagi tree is dead and sere, The motherless deer lies on the ground, Helpless and weak, no shelter near." The Emperor strove in vain to repress his own emotion; and old memories, dating from the time when he first saw his favorite, rose up before him fast and thick. "How precious has been each moment to me, but yet what a long time has elapsed since then," thought he, and he said to the Miôbu, "How often have I, too, desired to see the daughter of the Dainagon in such a position as her father would have desired to see her. 'Tis in vain to speak of that now!" A pause, and he continued, "The child, however, may survive, and fortune may have some boon in store for him; and his grandmother's prayer should rather be for long life." The presents were then shown to him. "Ah," thought he, "could they be the souvenirs sent by the once lost love," as he murmured-- "Oh, could I find some wizard sprite, To bear my words to her I love, Beyond the shades of envious night, To where she dwells in realms above!" Now the picture of beautiful Yô-ki-hi, however skilful the painter may have been, is after all only a picture. It lacks life and animation. Her features may have been worthily compared to the lotus and to the willow of the Imperial gardens, but the style after all was Chinese, and to the Emperor his lost love was all in all, nor, in his eyes, was any other object comparable to her. Who doubts that they, too, had vowed to unite wings, and intertwine branches! But to what end? The murmur of winds, the music of insects, now only served to cause him melancholy. In the meantime, in the Koki-Den was heard the sound of music. She who dwelt there, and who had not now for a long time been with the Emperor, was heedlessly protracting her strains until this late hour of the evening. How painfully must these have sounded to the Emperor! "Moonlight is gone, and darkness reigns E'en in the realms 'above the clouds,' Ah! how can light, or tranquil peace, Shine o'er that lone and lowly home!" Thus thought the Emperor, and he did not retire until "the lamps were trimmed to the end!" The sound of the night watch of the right guard[15] was now heard. It was five o'clock in the morning. So, to avoid notice, he withdrew to his bedroom, but calm slumber hardly visited his eyes. This now became a common occurrence. When he rose in the morning he would reflect on the time gone by when "they knew not even that the casement was bright." But now, too, he would neglect "Morning Court." His appetite failed him. The delicacies of the so-called "great table" had no temptation for him. Men pitied him much. "There must have been some divine mystery that predetermined the course of their love," said they, "for in matters in which she is concerned he is powerless to reason, and wisdom deserts him. The welfare of the State ceases to interest him." And now people actually began to quote instances that had occurred in a foreign Court. Weeks and months had elapsed, and the son of Kiri-Tsubo was again at the Palace. In the spring of the following year the first Prince was proclaimed heir-apparent to the throne. Had the Emperor consulted his private feelings, he would have substituted the younger Prince for the elder one. But this was not possible, and, especially for this reason:--There was no influential party to support him, and, moreover, public opinion would also have been strongly opposed to such a measure, which, if effected by arbitrary power, would have become a source of danger. The Emperor, therefore, betrayed no such desire, and repressed all outward appearance of it. And now the public expressed its satisfaction at the self-restraint of the Emperor, and the mother of the first Prince felt at ease. In this year, the mother of Kiri-Tsubo departed this life. She may not improbably have longed to follow her daughter at an earlier period; and the only regret to which she gave utterance, was that she was forced to leave her grandson, whom she had so tenderly loved. From this time the young Prince took up his residence in the Imperial palace; and next year, at the age of seven, he began to learn to read and write under the personal superintendence of the Emperor. He now began to take him into the private apartments, among others, of the Koki-den, saying, "The mother is gone! now at least, let the child be received with better feeling." And if even stony-hearted warriors, or bitter enemies, if any such there were, smiled when they saw the boy, the mother of the heir-apparent, too, could not entirely exclude him from her sympathies. This lady had two daughters, and they found in their half-brother a pleasant playmate. Every one was pleased to greet him, and there was already a winning coquetry in his manners, which amused people, and made them like to play with him. We need not allude to his studies in detail, but on musical instruments, such as the flute and the _koto_,[16] he also showed great proficiency. About this time there arrived an embassy from Corea, and among them was an excellent physiognomist. When the Emperor heard of this, he wished to have the Prince examined by him. It was, however, contrary to the warnings of the Emperor Wuda, to call in foreigners to the Palace. The Prince was, therefore, disguised as the son of one Udaiben, his instructor, with whom he was sent to the Kôro-Kwan, where foreign embassies are entertained. When the physiognomist saw him, he was amazed, and, turning his own head from side to side, seemed at first to be unable to comprehend the lines of his features, and then said, "His physiognomy argues that he might ascend to the highest position in the State, but, in that case, his reign will be disturbed, and many misfortunes will ensue. If, however, his position should only be that of a great personage in the country, his fortune may be different." This Udaiben was a clever scholar. He had with the Corean pleasant conversations, and they also interchanged with one another some Chinese poems, in one of which the Corean said what great pleasure it had given him to have seen before his departure, which was now imminent, a youth of such remarkable promise. The Coreans made some valuable presents to the Prince, who had also composed a few lines, and to them, too, many costly gifts were offered from the Imperial treasures. In spite of all the precautions which were taken to keep all this rigidly secret, it did, somehow or other, become known to others, and among those to the Udaijin, who, not unnaturally, viewed it with suspicion, and began to entertain doubts of the Emperor's intentions. The latter, however, acted with great prudence. It must be remembered that, as yet, he had not even created the boy a Royal Prince. He now sent for a native physiognomist, who approved of his delay in doing so, and whose observations to this effect, the Emperor did not receive unfavorably. He wisely thought to be a Royal Prince, without having any influential support on the mother's side, would be of no real advantage to his son. Moreover, his own tenure of power seemed precarious, and he, therefore, thought it better for his own dynasty, as well as for the Prince, to keep him in a private station, and to constitute him an outside supporter of the Royal cause. And now he took more and more pains with his education in different branches of learning; and the more the boy studied, the more talent did he evince--talent almost too great for one destined to remain in a private station. Nevertheless, as we have said, suspicions would have been aroused had Royal rank been conferred upon him, and the astrologists, whom also the Emperor consulted, having expressed their disapproval of such a measure, the Emperor finally made up his mind to create a new family. To this family he assigned the name of Gen, and he made the young Prince the founder of it.[17] Some time had now elapsed since the death of the Emperor's favorite, but he was still often haunted by her image. Ladies were introduced into his presence, in order, if possible, to divert his attention, but without success. There was, however, living at this time a young Princess, the fourth child of a late Emperor. She had great promise of beauty, and was guarded with jealous care by her mother, the Empress-Dowager. The Naishi-no-Ske, who had been at the Court from the time of the said Emperor, was intimately acquainted with the Empress and familiar with the Princess, her daughter, from her very childhood. This person now recommended the Emperor to see the Princess, because her features closely resembled those of Kiri-Tsubo. "I have now fulfilled," she said, "the duties of my office under three reigns, and, as yet, I have seen but one person who resembles the departed. The daughter of the Empress-Dowager does resemble her, and she is singularly beautiful." "There may be some truth in this," thought the Emperor, and he began to regard her with awakening interest. This was related to the Empress-Dowager. She, however, gave no encouragement whatever to the idea, "How terrible!" she said. "Do we not remember the cruel harshness of the mother of the Heir-apparent, which hastened the fate of Kiri-Tsubo!" While thus discountenancing any intimacy between her daughter and the Emperor, she too died, and the princess was left parentless. The Emperor acted with great kindness, and intimated his wish to regard her as his own daughter. In consequence of this her guardian, and her brother, Prince Hiôb-Kiô, considering that life at Court would be better for her and more attractive for her than the quiet of her own home, obtained for her an introduction there. She was styled the Princess Fuji-Tsubo (of the Chamber of Wistaria), from the name of the chamber which was assigned to her. There was, indeed, both in features and manners a strange resemblance between her and Kiri-Tsubo. The rivals of the latter constantly caused pain both to herself and to the Emperor; but the illustrious birth of the Princess prevented any one from ever daring to humiliate her, and she uniformly maintained the dignity of her position. And to her alas! the Emperor's thoughts were now gradually drawn, though he could not yet be said to have forgotten Kiri-Tsubo. The young Prince, whom we now style Genji (the Gen), was still with the Emperor, and passed his time pleasantly enough in visiting the various apartments where the inmates of the palace resided. He found the companionship of all of them sufficiently agreeable; but beside the many who were now of maturer years, there was one who was still in the bloom of her youthful beauty, and who more particularly caught his fancy, the Princess Wistaria. He had no recollection of his mother, but he had been told by Naishi-no-Ske that this lady was exceedingly like her; and for this reason he often yearned to see her and to be with her. The Emperor showed equal affection to both of them, and he sometimes told her that he hoped she would not treat the boy with coldness or think him forward. He said that his affection for the one made him feel the same for the other too, and that the mutual resemblance of her own and of his mother's face easily accounted for Genji's partiality to her. And thus as a result of this generous feeling on the part of the Emperor, a warmer tinge was gradually imparted both to the boyish humor and to the awakening sentiment of the young Prince. The mother of the Heir-apparent was not unnaturally averse to the Princess, and this revived her old antipathy to Genji also. The beauty of her son, the Heir-apparent, though remarkable, could not be compared to his, and so bright and radiant was his face that Genji was called by the public Hikal-Genji-no-Kimi (the shining Prince Gen). When he attained the age of twelve the ceremony of Gembuk[18] (or crowning) took place. This was also performed with all possible magnificence. Various _fêtes_, which were to take place in public, were arranged by special order by responsible officers of the Household. The Royal chair was placed in the Eastern wing of the Seiriô-Den, where the Emperor dwells, and in front of it were the seats of the hero of the ceremony and of the Sadaijin, who was to crown him and to regulate the ceremonial. About ten o'clock in the forenoon Genji appeared on the scene. The boyish style of his hair and dress excellently became his features; and it almost seemed matter for regret that it should be altered. The Okura-Kiô-Kurahito, whose office it was to rearrange the hair of Genji, faltered as he did so. As to the Emperor, a sudden thought stole into his mind. "Ah! could his mother but have lived to have seen him now!" This thought, however, he at once suppressed. After he had been crowned the Prince withdrew to a dressing-room, where he attired himself in the full robes of manhood. Then descending to the Court-yard he performed a measured dance in grateful acknowledgment. This he did with so much grace and skill that all present were filled with admiration; and his beauty, which some feared might be lessened, seemed only more remarkable from the change. And the Emperor, who had before tried to resist them, now found old memories irresistible. Sadaijin had by his wife, who was a Royal Princess, an only daughter. The Heir-apparent had taken some notice of her, but her father did not encourage him. He had, on the other hand, some idea of Genji, and had sounded the Emperor on the subject. He regarded the idea with favor, and especially on the ground that such a union would be of advantage to Genji, who had not yet any influential supporters. Now all the Court and the distinguished visitors were assembled in the palace, where a great festival was held; Genji occupied a seat next to that of the Royal Princess. During the entertainment Sadaijin whispered something several times into his ear, but he was too young and diffident to make any answer. Sadaijin was now summoned before the daïs of the Emperor, and, according to custom, an Imperial gift, a white Ô-Uchiki (grand robe), and a suit of silk vestments were presented to him by a lady. Then proffering his own wine-cup, the Emperor addressed him thus:-- "In the first hair-knot[19] of youth, Let love that lasts for age be bound!" This evidently implied an idea of matrimony. Sadaijin feigned surprise and responded:-- "Aye! if the purple[20] of the cord, I bound so anxiously, endure!" He then descended into the Court-yard, and gave expression to his thanks in the same manner in which Genji had previously done. A horse from the Imperial stables and a falcon from the Kurand-Dokoro[21] were on view in the yard, and were now presented to him. The princes and nobles were all gathered together in front of the grand staircase, and appropriate gifts were also presented to each one of them. Among the crowd baskets and trays of fruits and delicacies were distributed by the Emperor's order, under the direction of Udaiben; and more rice-cakes and other things were given away now than at the Gembuk of the Heir-apparent. In the evening the young Prince went to the mansion of the Sadaijin, where the espousal with the young daughter of the latter was celebrated with much splendor. The youthfulness of the beautiful boy was well pleasing to Sadaijin; but the bride, who was some years older than he was, and who considered the disparity in their age to be unsuitable, blushed when she thought of it. Not only was this Sadaijin himself a distinguished personage in the State, but his wife was also the sister of the Emperor by the same mother, the late Empress; and her rank therefore was unequivocal. When to this we add the union of their daughter with Genji, it was easy to understand that the influence of Udaijin, the grandfather of the Heir-apparent, and who therefore seemed likely to attain great power, was not after all of very much moment. Sadaijin had several children. One of them, who was the issue of his Royal wife, was the Kurand Shiôshiô. Udaijin was not, for political reasons, on good terms with this family; but nevertheless he did not wish to estrange the youthful Kurand. On the contrary, he endeavored to establish friendly relations with him, as was indeed desirable, and he went so far as to introduce him to his fourth daughter, the younger sister of the Koki-Den. Genji still resided in the palace, where his society was a source of much pleasure to the Emperor, and he did not take up his abode in a private house. Indeed, his bride, Lady Aoi (Lady Hollyhock), though her position insured her every attention from others, had few charms for him, and the Princess Wistaria much more frequently occupied his thoughts. "How pleasant her society, and how few like her!" he was always thinking; and a hidden bitterness blended with his constant reveries. The years rolled on, and Genji being now older was no longer allowed to continue his visits to the private rooms of the Princess as before. But the pleasure of overhearing her sweet voice, as its strains flowed occasionally through the curtained casement, and blended with the music of the flute and _koto_, made him still glad to reside in the Palace. Under these circumstances he seldom visited the home of his bride, sometimes only for a day or two after an absence of five or six at Court. His father-in-law, however, did not attach much importance to this, on account of his youth; and whenever they did receive a visit from him, pleasant companions were invited to meet him, and various games likely to suit his taste were provided for his entertainment. In the Palace, Shigeisa, his late mother's quarters, was allotted to him, and those who had waited on her waited on him. The private house, where his grandmother had resided, was beautifully repaired for him by the Shuri Takmi--the Imperial Repairing Committee--in obedience to the wishes of the Emperor. In addition to the original loveliness of the landscape and the noble forest ranges, the basin of the lake was now enlarged, and similar improvements were effected throughout with the greatest pains. "Oh, how delightful would it not be to be in a place like that which such an one as one might choose!" thought Genji within himself. We may here also note that the name Hikal Genji is said to have been originated by the Corean who examined his physiognomy. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 2: The beautiful tree, called Kiri, has been named Paulownia Imperialis, by botanists.] [Footnote 3: Official titles held by Court ladies.] [Footnote 4: The name of a Court office.] [Footnote 5: A celebrated and beautiful favorite of an Emperor of the Thang dynasty in China, whose administration was disturbed by a rebellion, said to have been caused by the neglect of his duties for her sake.] [Footnote 6: A Niogo who resided in a part of the Imperial palace called "Koki-den."] [Footnote 7: The Hakamagi is the investiture of boys with trousers, when they pass from childhood to boyhood. In ordinary cases, this is done when about five years old, but in the Royal Family, it usually takes place earlier.] [Footnote 8: A carriage drawn by hands. Its use in the Court-yard of the Palace was only allowed to persons of distinction.] [Footnote 9: Cremation was very common in these days.] [Footnote 10: A Court lady, whose name was Yugei, holding an office called "Miôbu."] [Footnote 11: Miyagi is the name of a field which is famous for the Hagi or Lespedeza, a small and pretty shrub, which blooms in the Autumn. In poetry it is associated with deer, and a male and female deer are often compared to a lover and his love, and their young to their children.] [Footnote 12: In Japan there is a great number of "mushi" or insects, which sing in herbage grass, especially in the evenings of Autumn. They are constantly alluded to in poetry.] [Footnote 13: In Japanese poetry, persons connected with the Court, are spoken of as "the people above the clouds."] [Footnote 14: A famous Chinese poem, by Hak-rak-ten. The heroine of the poem was Yô-ki-hi, to whom we have made reference before. The story is, that after death she became a fairy, and the Emperor sent a magician to find her. The works of the poet Peh-lo-tien, as it is pronounced by modern Chinese, were the only poems in vogue at that time. Hence, perhaps, the reason of its being frequently quoted.] [Footnote 15: There were two divisions of the Imperial guard, right and left.] [Footnote 16: The general name for a species of musical instrument resembling the zither, but longer.] [Footnote 17: In these days Imperial Princes were often created founders of new families, and with some given name, the Gen being one most frequently used. These Princes had no longer a claim to the throne.] [Footnote 18: The ceremony of placing a crown or coronet upon the head of a boy. This was an ancient custom observed by the upper and middle classes both in Japan and China, to mark the transition from boyhood to youth.] [Footnote 19: Before the crown was placed upon the head at the Gembuk, the hair was gathered up in a conical form from all sides of the head, and then fastened securely in that form with a knot of silken cords of which the color was always purple.] [Footnote 20: The color of purple typifies, and is emblematical of, love.] [Footnote 21: A body of men who resembled "Gentlemen-at-arms," and a part of whose duty it was to attend to the falcons.] CHAPTER II THE BROOM-LIKE TREE Hikal Genji--the name is singularly well known, and is the subject of innumerable remarks and censures. Indeed, he had many intrigues in his lifetime, and most of them are vividly preserved in our memories. He had always striven to keep all these intrigues in the utmost secrecy, and had to appear constantly virtuous. This caution was observed to such an extent that he scarcely accomplished anything really romantic, a fact which Katano-no-Shiôshiô[22] would have ridiculed. Even with such jealous watchfulness, secrets easily transpire from one to another; so loquacious is man! Moreover, he had unfortunately from nature a disposition of not appreciating anything within easy reach, but of directing his thought in undesirable quarters, hence sundry improprieties in his career. Now, it was the season of continuous rain (namely, the month of May), and the Court was keeping a strict Monoimi.[23] Genji, who had now been made a Chiûjiô,[24] and who was still continuing his residence in the Imperial Palace, was also confined to his apartments for a considerable length of time. His father-in-law naturally felt for him, and his sons were sent to bear him company. Among these, Kurand Shiôshiô, who was now elevated to the post of Tô-no-Chiûjiô, proved to be the most intimate and interesting companion. He was married to the fourth daughter of the Udaijin, but being a man of lively disposition, he, too, like Genji, did not often resort to the mansion of the bride. When Genji went to the Sadaijin's he was always his favorite associate; they were together in their studies and in their sports, and accompanied each other everywhere. And so all stiffness and formality were dispensed with, and they did not scruple to reveal their secrets to each other. It was on an evening in the above-mentioned season. Rain was falling drearily. The inhabitants of the Palace had almost all retired, and the apartment of Genji was more than usually still. He was engaged in reading near a lamp, but at length mechanically put his book aside, and began to take out some letters and writings from a bureau which stood on one side of the room. Tô-no-Chiûjiô happened to be present, and Genji soon gathered from his countenance that he was anxious to look over them. "Yes," said Genji; "some you may see, but there may be others!" "Those others," retorted Tô-no-Chiûjiô, "are precisely those which I wish to see; ordinary ones, even your humble servant may have received. I only long to look upon those which may have been written by fair hands, when the tender writer had something to complain of, or when in twilight hour she was outpouring all her yearning!" Being so pressed, Genji allowed his brother-in-law to see them all. It is, however, highly probable that any very sacred letters would not have been loosely deposited in an ordinary bureau; and these would therefore seem, after all, to have been of second-rate importance. "What a variety," said Tô-no-Chiûjiô, as he turned them over, and he asked several questions guessingly about this or that. About some he guessed correctly, about others he was puzzled and suspicious.[25] Genji smiled and spoke little, only making some obscure remark, and continuing as he took the letters: "but _you_, surely, must have collected many. Will not you show me some? And then my bureau also may open more easily." "You do not suppose that I have any worth reading, do you?" replied Tô-no-Chiûjiô. "I have only just now discovered," continued he, "how difficult it is to meet with a fair creature, of whom one can say, 'This is, indeed, _the_ one; here is, at last, perfection.' There are, indeed, many who fascinate; many who are ready with their pens, and who, when occasion may require, are quick at repartee. But how often such girls as these are conceited about their own accomplishments, and endeavor unduly to disparage those of others! There are again some who are special pets of their parents, and most jealously watched over at home. Often, no doubt, they are pretty, often graceful; and frequently they will apply themselves with effect to music and to poetry, in which they may even attain to special excellence. But then, their friends will keep their drawbacks in the dark, and eulogize their merits to the utmost. If we were to give full credence to this exaggerated praise, we could not but fail in every single instance to be more or less disappointed." So saying Tô-no-Chiûjiô paused, and appeared as if he were ashamed of having such an experience, when Genji smilingly remarked, "Can any one of them, however, exist without at least one good point?" "Nay, were there any so little favored as that, no one would ever be misled at all!" replied Tô-no-Chiûjiô, and he continued, "In my opinion, the most and the least favored are in the same proportion. I mean, they are both not many. Their birth, also, divides them into three classes. Those, however, who are especially well born, are often too jealously guarded, and are, for the most part, kept secluded from the outside gaze, which frequently tends to make their deportment shy and timid. It is those of the middle class, who are much more frequently seen by us, who afford us most chance of studying their character. As for the lower class, it would be almost useless to trouble ourselves with them." Thus Tô-no-Chiûjiô appeared to be thoroughly at home in his description of the merits of the fair sex, which made Genji amused, and he said: "But how do you define the classes you have referred to, and classify them into three? Those who are of high birth sink sometimes in the social scale until the distinction of their rank is forgotten in the abjectness of their present position. Others, again, of low origin, rise to a high position, and, with self-important faces and in ostentatious residences, regard themselves as inferior to none. Into what class will you allot _these_?" Just at this moment the Sama-no-Kami[26] and Tô Shikib-no-Jiô[27] joined the party. They came to pay their respects to Genji, and both of them were gay and light-hearted talkers. So Tô-no-Chiûjiô now made over the discussion to them, and it was carried to rather questionable lengths. "However exalted a lady's position may be," said Sama-no-Kami, "if her origin is an unenviable one, the estimation of the public for her would be widely different from that which it shows to those who are naturally entitled to it. If, again, adverse fortune assails one whose birth is high, so that she becomes friendless and helpless, degradation here will meet our eyes, though her heart may still remain as noble as ever. Examples of both of these are very common. After much reflection, I can only come to the conclusion that both of them should be included in the middle class. In this class, too, must be included many daughters of the Duriô,[28] who occupy themselves with local administration. These ladies are often very attractive, and are not seldom introduced at Court and enjoy high favor." "And successes depend pretty much upon the state of one's fortune, I fancy," interrupted Genji, with a placid smile. "That is a remark very unlikely to fall from the lips of a champion of romance," chimed in Tô-no-Chiûjiô. "There may be some," resumed Sama-no-Kami, "who are of high birth, and to whom public respect is duly paid, yet whose domestic education has been much neglected. Of a lady such as this we may simply remark, 'Why, and how, is it that she is so brought up?' and she would only cause discredit to her class. There are, of course, some who combine in themselves every perfection befitting their position. These best of the best are, however, not within every one's reach. But, listen! Within an old dilapidated gateway, almost unknown to the world, and overgrown with wild vegetation, perchance we might find, shut up, a maiden charming beyond imagination. Her father might be an aged man, corpulent in person, and stern in mien, and her brothers of repulsive countenance; but there, in an uninviting room, she lives, full of delicacy and sentiment, and fairly skilled in the arts of poetry or music, which she may have acquired by her own exertions alone, unaided. If there were such a case, surely she deserves our attention, save that of those of us who themselves are highly exalted in position." So saying, Sama-no-Kami winked slyly at Shikib-no-Jiô. The latter was silent: perhaps he fancied that Sama-no-Kami was speaking in the above strain, with a hidden reference to his (Shikib's) sisters, who, he imagined, answered the description. Meantime, Genji may have thought, "If it is so difficult to choose one even from the best class, how can--Ah!" and he began to close his eyes and doze. His dress was of soft white silk, partly covered by the _naoshi_,[29] worn carelessly, with its cord left loose and untied. His appearance and bearing formed quite a picture. Meanwhile, the conversation went on about different persons and characters, and Sama-no-Kami proceeded: "It is unquestionable that though at first glance many women appear to be without defects, yet when we come to the actual selection of any one of them, we should seriously hesitate in our choice. "Let me illustrate my meaning by reference to the numerous public men who may be aspiring to fulfil the duties of several important posts. You will at once recognize the great difficulty there would be in fixing upon the individual statesman under whose guardianship the empire could best repose. And supposing that, if at last, by good fortune, the most able man were designated, even then we must bear in mind that it is not in the power of one or two individuals, however gifted they may be, to carry on the whole administration of the kingdom alone. Public business can only be tranquilly conducted when the superior receives the assistance of subordinates, and when the subordinate yields a becoming respect and loyalty to his superior, and affairs are thus conducted in a spirit of mutual conciliation. So, too, it is in the narrow range of the domestic circle. To make a good mistress of that circle, one must possess, if our ideal is to be fully realized, many important qualifications. Were we to be constantly indulging in the severity of criticism, always objecting to this or that, a perfect character would be almost unattainable. Men should therefore bear with patience any trifling dissatisfaction which they may feel, and strive constantly to keep alive, to augment, and to cherish, the warmth of their early love. Only such a man as this can be called faithful, and the partner of such a man alone can enjoy the real happiness of affection. How unsatisfactory to us, however, seems the actual world if we look round upon it. Still more difficult must it be to satisfy such as you who seek your companions but from among the best! "How varied are the characters and the dispositions of women! Some who are youthful and favored by Nature strive almost selfishly to keep themselves with the utmost reserve. If they write, they write harmlessly and innocently; yet, at the same time, they are choice in their expressions, which have delicate touches of bewitching sentiment. This might possibly make us entertain a suddenly conceived fancy for them; yet they would give us but slight encouragement. They may allow us just to hear their voices, but when we approach them they will speak with subdued breath, and almost inaudibly. Beware, however, lest among these you chance to encounter some astute artiste, who, under a surface that is smooth, conceals a current that is deep. This sort of lady, it is true, generally appears quite modest; but often proves, when we come closer, to be of a very different temperament from what we anticipated. Here is one drawback to be guarded against. "Among characters differing from the above, some are too full of sentimental sweetness--whenever occasion offers them romance they become spoilt. Such would be decidedly better if they had less sentiment, and more sense. "Others, again, are singularly earnest--too earnest, indeed--in the performance of their domestic duty; and such, with their hair pushed back,[30] devote themselves like household drudges to household affairs. Man, whose duties generally call him from home all the day, naturally hears and sees the social movements both of public and private life, and notices different things, both good and bad. Of such things he would not like to talk freely with strangers, but only with some one closely allied to him. Indeed, a man may have many things in his mind which cause him to smile or to grieve. Occasionally something of a political nature may irritate him beyond endurance. These matters he would like to talk over with his fair companion, that she might soothe him, and sympathize with him. But a woman as above described is often unable to understand him, or does not endeavor to do so; and this only makes him more miserable. At another time he may brood over his hopes and aspirations; but he has no hope of solace. She is not only incapable of sharing these with him, but might carelessly remark, 'What ails you?' How severely would this try the temper of a man! "If, then, we clearly see all these, the only suggestion I can make is that the best thing to do is to choose one who is gentle and modest, and strive to guide and educate her according to the best ideal we may think of. This is the best plan; and why should we not do so? Our efforts would not be surely all in vain. But no! A girl whom we thus educate, and who proves to be competent to bear us company, often disappoints us when she is left alone. She may then show her incapability, and her occasional actions may be done in such an unbecoming manner that both good and bad are equally displeasing. Are not all these against us men?--Remember, however, that there are some who may not be very agreeable at ordinary times, yet who flash occasionally upon us with a potent and almost irresistible charm." Thus Sama-no-Kami, though eloquent, not having come to one point or another, remained thoughtful for some minutes, and again resumed:-- "After all, as I have once observed, I can only make this suggestion: That we should not too much consider either birth or beauty, but select one who is gentle and tranquil, and consider her to be best suited for our last haven of rest. If, in addition, she is of fair position, and is blessed with sweetness of temper, we should be delighted with her, and not trouble ourselves to search or notice any trifling deficiency. And the more so as, if her conscience is clear and pure, calmness and serenity of features can naturally be looked for. "There are women who are too diffident, and too reserved, and carry their generosity to such an extent as to pretend not to be aware even of such annoyances as afford them just grounds of complaint. A time arrives when their sorrows and anxieties become greater than they can bear. Even then, however, they cannot resort to plain speaking, and complain. But, instead thereof, they will fly away to some remote retreat among the mountain hamlets, or to some secluded spot by the seaside, leaving behind them some painful letter or despairing verses, and making themselves mere sad memories of the past. Often when a boy I heard such stories read by ladies, and the sad pathos of them even caused my tears to flow; but now I can only declare such deeds to be acts of mere folly. For what does it all amount to? Simply to this: That the woman, in spite of the pain which it causes her, and discarding a heart which may be still lingering towards her, takes to flight, regardless of the feelings of others--of the anguish, and of the anxiety, which those who are dearest to her suffer with her. Nay, this act of folly may even be committed simply to test the sincerity of her lover's affection for her. What pitiable subtlety! "Worse than this, the woman thus led astray, perhaps by ill advice, may even be beguiled into more serious errors. In the depth of her despairing melancholy she will become a nun. Her conscience, when she takes the fatal vow, may be pure and unsullied, and nothing may seem able to call her back again to the world which she forsook. But, as time rolls on, some household servant or aged nurse brings her tidings of the lover who has been unable to cast her out of his heart, and whose tears drop silently when he hears aught about her. Then, when she hears of his affections still living, and his heart still yearning, and thinks of the uselessness of the sacrifice she has made voluntarily, she touches the hair[31] on her forehead, and she becomes regretful. She may, indeed, do her best to persevere in her resolve, but if one single tear bedews her cheek, she is no longer strong in the sanctity of her vow. Weakness of this kind would be in the eyes of Buddha more sinful than those offences which are committed by those who never leave the lay circle at all, and she would eventually wander about in the 'wrong passage.'[32] "But there are also women, who are too self-confident and obtrusive. These, if they discover some slight inconsistency in men, fiercely betray their indignation and behave with arrogance. A man may show a little inconsistency occasionally, but yet his affection may remain; then matters will in time become right again, and they will pass their lives happily together. If, therefore, the woman cannot show a tolerable amount of patience, this will but add to her unhappiness. She should, above all things, strive not to give way to excitement; and when she experiences any unpleasantness, she should speak of it frankly but with moderation. And if there should be anything worse than unpleasantness she should even then complain of it in such a way as not to irritate the men. If she guides her conduct on principles such as these, even her very words, her very demeanor, may in all probability increase his sympathy and consideration for her. One's self-denial and the restraint which one imposes upon one's self, often depend on the way in which another behaves to us. The woman who is too indifferent and too forgiving is also inconsiderate. Remember 'the unmoored boat floats about.' Is it not so?" Tô-no-Chiûjiô quickly nodded assent, as he said, "Quite true! A woman who has no strength of emotion, no passion of sorrow or of joy, can never be holders of us. Nay even jealousy, if not carried to the extent of undue suspicion, is not undesirable. If we ourselves are not in fault, and leave the matter alone, such jealousy may easily be kept within due bounds. But stop"--added he suddenly--"Some women have to bear, and do bear, every grief that they may encounter with unmurmuring and suffering patience." So said Tô-no-Chiûjiô, who implied by this allusion that his sister was a woman so circumstanced. But Genji was still dozing, and no remark came from his lips. Sama-no-Kami had been recently made a doctor of literature, and (like a bird) was inflating his feathers, so Tô-no-Chiûjiô, willing to draw him out as much as possible, gave him every encouragement to proceed with his discourse. Again, therefore, he took up the conversation, and said, "Call to your mind affairs in general, and judge of them. Is it not always true that reality and sincerity are to be preferred to merely artificial excellence? Artisans, for instance, make different sorts of articles, as their talents serve them. Some of them are keen and expert, and cleverly manufacture objects of temporary fashion, which have no fixed or traditional style, and which are only intended to strike the momentary fancy. These, however, are not the true artisans. The real excellence of the true artisan is tested by those who make, without defects or sensational peculiarities, articles to decorate, we will say, some particular building, in conformity with correct taste and high æsthetic principles. Look for another instance at the eminence which has been attained by several of the artists of the Imperial College of Painting. Take the case of draughtsmen in black ink. Pictures, indeed, such as those of Mount Horai,[33] which has never been beheld by mortal eye, or of some raging monstrous fish in a rough sea, or of a wild animal of some far-off country, or of the imaginary face of the demon, are often drawn with such striking vividness that people are startled at the sight of them. These pictures, however, are neither real nor true. On the other hand, ordinary scenery, of familiar mountains, of calm streams of water, and of dwellings just before our eyes, may be sketched with an irregularity so charming, and with such excellent skill, as almost to rival Nature. In pictures such as these, the perspective of gentle mountain slopes, and sequestered nooks surrounded by leafy trees, are drawn with such admirable fidelity to Nature that they carry the spectator in imagination to something beyond them. These are the pictures in which is mostly evinced the spirit and effectiveness of the superior hand of a master; and in these an inferior artist would only show dulness and inefficiency. "Similar observations are applicable to handwriting.[34] Some people boldly dash away with great freedom and endless flourishes, and appear at the first glance to be elegant and skilful. But that which is written with scrupulous neatness, in accordance with the true rules of penmanship, constitutes a very different handwriting from the above. If perchance the upstrokes and downstrokes do not, at first sight, appear to be fully formed, yet when we take it up and critically compare it with writing in which dashes and flourishes predominate, we shall at once see how much more of real and sterling merit it possesses. "Such then is the nature of the case in painting, in penmanship, and in the arts generally. And how much more then are those women undeserving of our admiration, who though they are rich in outward and in fashionable display, attempting to dazzle our eyes, are yet lacking in the solid foundations of reality, fidelity, and truth! Do not, my friends, consider me going too far, but let me proceed to illustrate these observations by my own experience." So saying, Sama-no-Kami advanced his seat, and Genji awoke. Tô-no-Chiûjiô was quite interested in the conversation, and was keeping his eye upon the speaker, leaning his cheek upon his hand. This long discourse of Sama-no-Kami reminds us of the preacher's sermon, and amuses us. And it seems that, on occasions like these, one may easily be carried away by circumstances, until he is willing to communicate even his own private affairs. "It was at a time," continued Sama-no-Kami, "when I was in a still more humble position, that there was a girl to whom I had taken a fancy. She was like one of those whom I described in the process of my discourse; not a regular beauty. Although for this reason my youthful vanity did not allow me to pledge myself to her forever, I still considered her a pleasant companion. Nevertheless, from occasional fits of restlessness, I roamed often here and there. This she always resented fiercely, and with so much indignation that I sighed for a sweeter temper and more moderation. Indeed, there were times when her suspicion and spitefulness were more than I could endure. But my irritation was generally calmed down, and I even felt sorry myself, when I reflected how strong and devoted her affection for me was, in spite of the mean state of my circumstances. As to her general character, her only endeavor seemed to be to do everything for my sake, even what was beyond her powers, while she struggled to perfect herself in anything in which she might be deficient, and took the most faithful care of all my interests, striving constantly and earnestly to please me. She appeared at first even too zealous, but in time became more moderate. She seemed as if she felt uneasy lest her plain face should cause me displeasure, and she even denied herself the sight of other people, in order to avoid unbecoming comment. "As time went by, the more I became accustomed to observe how really simple-hearted she was, the more I sympathized with her. The one thing that I could not bear, however, was that jealousy of hers. Sincere and devoted as she is, thought I, is there no means of ridding her of this jealous weakness? Could I but do that, it would not matter even if I were to alarm her a little. And I also thought that since she was devoted to me, if I showed any symptoms of getting tired of her, she would, in all probability, be warned by it. Therefore, I purposely behaved to her with great coolness and heartlessness. This she resented as usual. I then said to her, that though our affection had been of old date, I should not see her again; 'if you wish to sever from me you may suspect me as much as you like. If you prefer to enjoy long happiness with me in future, be modest and patient in trifling matters. If you can only be so, how can I do otherwise than love you? My position also may in time be improved, and then we may enjoy greater happiness!' "In saying this, I thought I had managed matters very ingeniously. Without meaning it, however, I had in fact spoken a little too harshly. She replied, with a bitter smile, that 'to put up with a life of undistinguished condition, even though with faint hopes of future promotion, was not a thing about which we ought to trouble ourselves, but that it was indeed a hard task to pass long wearisome days in waiting until a man's mind should be restored to a sense of propriety. And that for this reason we had, perhaps, better separate at once.' "This she said with such sarcastic bitterness that I was irritated and stung to the quick, and overwhelmed her with a fresh torrent of reproaches. At this juncture she gave way to an uncontrollable fit of passion, and snatching up my hand, she thrust my little finger into her mouth and bit off the end of it. Then, notwithstanding my pain, I became quite cool and collected, and calmly said, 'insulted and maimed as I have now been, it is most fitting that I should absent myself for the future from polite society. Office and title would ill become me now. Your spite has now left me without spirit to face the world in which I should be ridiculed, and has left me no alternative but to withdraw my maimed person from the public gaze!' After I had alarmed her by speaking in this exalted strain, I added, 'to-day we meet for the last time,' and bending these fingers (pointing to them as she spoke) I made the farewell remark:-- When on my fingers, I must say I count the hours I spent with thee, Is this, and this alone, I pray The only pang you've caused to me? You are now quits with me,' At the instant I said so, she burst into tears and without premeditation, poured forth the following:-- 'From me, who long bore grievous harms, From that cold hand and wandering heart, You now withdraw your sheltering arms, And coolly tell me, we must part.' "To speak the truth, I had no real intention of separating from her altogether. For some time, however, I sent her no communication, and was passing rather an unsettled life. Well! I was once returning from the palace late one evening in November, after an experimental practice of music for a special festival in the Temple of Kamo. Sleet was falling heavily. The wind blew cold, and my road was dark and muddy. There was no house near where I could make myself at home. To return and spend a lonely night in the palace was not to be thought of. At this moment a reflection flashed across my mind. 'How cold must she feel whom I have treated so coldly,' thought I, and suddenly became very anxious to know what she felt and what she was about. This made me turn my steps towards her dwelling, and brushing away the snow that had gathered on my shoulders I trudged on: at one moment shyly biting my nails, at another thinking that on such a night at least all her enmity towards me might be all melted away. I approached the house. The curtains were not drawn, and I saw the dim light of a lamp reflected on the windows. It was even perceivable that a soft quilt was being warmed and thrown over the large couch. The scene was such as to give you the notion that she was really anticipating that I might come at least on such an evening. This gave me encouragement, but alas! she whom I hoped to see was not at home. I was told she had gone to her parents that very evening. Previous to that time, she had sent me no sad verses, no conciliatory letter, and this had already given birth to unpleasant feelings on my part. And at this moment, when I was told that she had gone away, all these things seemed to have been done almost purposely, and I involuntarily began to suspect that her very jealousy had only been assumed by her on purpose to cause me to become tired of her. "As I reflected what our future might be after such an estrangement as this, I was truly depressed. I did not, however, give up all hope, thinking that she would not be so determined as to abandon me forever. I had even carefully selected some stuff for a dress for her. Some time, however, passed away without anything particularly occurring. She neither accepted nor refused the offers of reconciliation which I made to her. She did not, it is true, hide herself away like any of those of whom I have spoken before. But, nevertheless, she did not evince the slightest symptom of regret for her previous conduct. "At last, after a considerable interval, she intimated to me that her final resolve was not to forgive me any more if I intended in future to behave as I had done before; but that, on the other hand, she should be glad to see me again if I would thoroughly change my habits, and treat her with the kindness which was her due. From this I became more convinced that she still entertained longings for me. Hence, with the hope of warning her a little more, I made no expressions of any intention to make a change in my habits, and I tried to find out which of us had the most patience. "While matters were in this state, she, to my great surprise, suddenly died, perhaps broken-hearted. "I must now frankly confess that she certainly was a woman in whom a man might place his confidence. Often, too, I had talked with her on music and on poetry, as well as on the more important business of life, and I found her to be by no means wanting in intellect and capability. She had too the clever hands of Tatyta-himè[35] and Tanabata.[36] "When I recall these pleasant memories my heart still clings to her endearingly." "Clever in weaving, she may have been like Tanabata, that is but a small matter," interposed Tô-no-Chiûjiô, "we should have preferred to have seen your love as enduring as Tanabata's.[37] Nothing is so beautiful as the brilliant dyes spread over the face of Nature, yet the red tints of autumn are often not dyed to a color so deep as we desire, because of the early drying of the dew, so we say, 'such is the uncertain fate of this world,'" and so saying, he made a sign to Sama-no-Kami to go on with his story. He went on accordingly. "About that time I knew another lady. She was on the whole a superior kind of person. A fair poetess, a good musician, and a fluent speaker, with good enunciation, and graceful in her movements. All these admirable qualities I noticed myself, and heard them spoken of by others. As my acquaintance with her commenced at the time when I was not on the best of terms with my former companion, I was glad to enjoy her society. The more I associated with her the more fascinating she became. "Meanwhile my first friend died, at which I felt truly sorry, still I could not help it, and I therefore paid frequent visits to this one. In the course of my attentions to her, however, I discovered many unpleasant traits. She was not very modest, and did not appear to be one whom a man could trust. On this account, I became somewhat disappointed, and visited her less often. While matters were on this footing I accidentally found out that she had another lover to whom she gave a share of her heart. "It happened that one inviting moonlight evening in October, I was driving out from home on my way to a certain Dainagon. On the road I met with a young noble who was going in the same direction. We therefore drove together, and as we were journeying on, he told me that 'some one might be waiting for him, and he was anxious to see her'; well! by and by we arrived at the house of my lady-love. The bright reflection of the waters of an ornamental lake was seen through crevices in the walls; and the pale moon, as she shed her full radiance over the shimmering waves, seemed to be charmed with the beauty of the scene. It would have been heartless to pass by with indifference, and we both descended from the carriage, without knowing each other's intention. "This youth seems to have been 'the other one'; he was rather shy. He sat down on a mat of reeds that was spread beside a corridor near the gateway; and, gazing up at the sky, meditated for some moments in silence. The chrysanthemums in the gardens were in full bloom, whose sweet perfume soothed us with its gentle influence; and round about us the scarlet leaves of the maple were falling, as ever and anon they were shaken by the breeze. The scene was altogether romantic. "Presently, he took a flute out of his bosom and played. He then whispered, 'Its shade is refreshing.' "In a few minutes the fair one struck up responsively on a sweet-toned _wagon_ (a species of _koto_). "The melody was soft and exquisite, in charming strains of modern music, and admirably adapted to the lovely evening. No wonder that he was fascinated; he advanced towards the casement from which the sounds proceeded, and glancing at the leaves scattered on the ground, whispered in invidious tones, 'Sure no strange footsteps would ever dare to press these leaves.' He then culled a chrysanthemum, humming, as he did so:-- 'Even this spot, so fair to view With moon, and Koto's gentle strain, Could make no other lover true, As me, thy fond, thy only swain.' "'Wretched!' he exclaimed, alluding to his poetry; and then added, 'One tune more! Stay not your hand when one is near, who so ardently longs to hear you.' Thus he began to flatter the lady, who, having heard his whispers, replied thus, in a tender, hesitating voice:-- 'Sorry I am my voice too low To match thy flute's far sweeter sound; Which mingles with the winds that blow The Autumn leaves upon the ground.' "Ah! she little thought I was a silent and vexed spectator of all this flirtation. She then took up a _soh_ (another kind of _koto_ with thirteen strings) and tuned it to a Banjiki key (a winter tune), and played on it still more excellently. Though an admirer of music, I cannot say that these bewitching melodies gave me any pleasure under the peculiar circumstances I stood in. "Now, romantic interludes, such as this, might be pleasant enough in the case of maidens who are kept strictly in Court service, and whom we have very little opportunity of meeting with, but even there we should hesitate to make such a one our life companion. How much less could one ever entertain such an idea in a case like my own? Making, therefore, that evening's experience a ground of dissatisfaction I never saw her more. "Now, gentlemen, let us take into consideration these two instances which have occurred to myself and see how equally unsatisfactory they are. The one too jealous, the other too forward. Thus, early in life, I found out how little reliance was to be placed on such characters. And now I think so still more; and this opinion applies more especially to the latter of the two. Dewdrops on the 'Hagi flower' of beauty so delicate that they disappear as soon as we touch them--hailstones on the bamboo grass that melt in our hand as soon as we prick them--appear at a distance extremely tempting and attractive. Take my humble advice, however, and go not near them. If you do not appreciate this advice now, the lapse of another seven years will render you well able to understand that such adventures will only bring a tarnished fame." Thus Sama-no-Kami admonished them, and Tô-no-Chiûjiô nodded as usual. Genji slightly smiled; perhaps he thought it was all very true, and he said, "Your twofold experience was indeed disastrous and irritating!" "Now," said Tô-no-Chiûjiô, "I will tell you a story concerning myself. It was the evil fortune of Sama-no-Kami to meet with too much jealousy in one of the ladies to whom he might otherwise have given his heart; while he could feel no confidence in another owing to flirtations. It was my hard lot to encounter an instance of excessive diffidence. I once knew a girl whose person was altogether pleasing, and although I, too, had no intention, as Sama-no-Kami said, of forming an everlasting connection with her, I nevertheless took a great fancy to her. As our acquaintance was prolonged, our mutual affection grew warmer. My thoughts were always of her, and she placed entire confidence in me. Now, when complete confidence is placed by one person in another, does not Nature teach us to expect resentment when that confidence is abused? No such resentment, however, seemed under any circumstances to trouble her. When I very seldom visited her, she showed no excitement or indignation, but behaved and looked as if we had never been separated from each other. This patient silence was more trying to me than reproaches. She was parentless and friendless. For this reason responsibility weighed more heavily on me. Abusing her gentle nature, however, I frequently neglected her. About this time, moreover, a certain person who lived near her, discovered our friendship, and frightened her by sending, through some channel, mischief-making messages to her. This I did not become aware of till afterwards, and, it seems, she was quite cast down and helpless. She had a little one for whose sake, it appears, she was additionally sad. One day I unexpectedly received a bunch of Nadeshiko[38] flowers. They were from her." At this point Tô-no-Chiûjiô became gloomy. "And what," inquired Genji, "were the words of her message?" "Sir! nothing but the verse, Forgot may be the lowly bed From which these darling flowerets spring, Still let a kindly dew be shed, Upon their early nurturing. "No sooner had I read this than I went to her at once. She was gentle and sedate as usual, but evidently absent and preoccupied. Her eyes rested on the dew lying on the grass in the garden, and her ears were intent upon the melancholy singing of the autumn insects. It was as if we were in a real romance. I said to her:-- When with confused gaze we view The mingled flowers on gay parterre, Amid their blooms of radiant hue The Tokonatz,[39] my love, is there. And avoiding all allusion to the Nadeshiko flowers, I repeatedly endeavored to comfort the mother's heart. She murmured in reply:-- 'Ah! Flower already bent with dew, The winds of autumn cold and chill Will wither all thy beauteous hue, And soon, alas, unpitying kill.' Thus she spoke sadly. But she reproached me no further. The tears came involuntarily into her eyes. She was, however, apparently sorry for this, and tried to conceal them. On the whole she behaved as if she meant to show that she was quite accustomed to such sorrows. I certainly deeply sympathized with her, yet still further abusing her patience. I did not visit her again for some time; but I was punished. When I did so she had flown, leaving no traces behind her. If she is still living she must needs be passing a miserable existence. "Now, if she had been free from this excessive diffidence, this apathy of calmness, if she had complained when it was necessary, with becoming warmth and spirit, she need never have been a wanderer, and I would never have abused her confidence. But, as I said before, a woman who has no strength of emotion, no passionate bursts of sorrow or of joy, can never retain a dominion over us. "I loved this woman without understanding her nature; and I am constantly, but in vain, trying to find her and her little darling, who was also very lovely; and often I think with grief and pain that, though I may succeed in forgetting her, she may possibly not be able to forget me, and, surely, there must be many an evening when she is disquieted by sad memories of the past. "Let us now sum up our experiences, and reflect on the lessons which they teach us. One who bites your finger will easily estrange your affection by her violence. Falseness and forwardness will be the reproach of some other, in spite of her melodious music and the sweetness of her songs. A third, too self-contained and too gentle, is open to the charge of a cold silence, which oppresses one, and cannot be understood. "Whom, then, are we to choose? All this variety, and this perplexing difficulty of choice, seems to be the common lot of humanity. Where, again, I say, are we to go to find the one who will realize our desires? Shall we fix our aspirations on the beautiful goddess, the heavenly Kichijiô?[40] Ah! this would be but superstitious and impracticable." So mournfully finished Tô-no-Chiûjiô; and all his companions, who had been attentively listening, burst simultaneously into laughter at his last allusion. "And now, Shikib, it is your turn. Tell us your story," exclaimed Tô-no-Chiûjiô, turning to him. "What worth hearing can your humble servant tell you?" "Go on; be quick; don't be shy; let us hear!" Shikib-no-Jiô, after a little meditation, thus began:-- "When I was a student at the University, I met there with a woman of very unusual intelligence. She was in every respect one with whom, as Sama-no-Kami has said, you could discuss affairs, both public and private. Her dashing genius and eloquence were such that all ordinary scholars would find themselves unable to cope with her, and would be at once reduced to silence. Now, my story is as follows:-- "I was taking lessons from a certain professor, who had several daughters, and she was one of them. It happened by some chance or other I fell much into her society. The professor, who noticed this, once took up a wine-cup in his hand, and said to me, 'Hear what I sing about two choices.'[41] "This was a plain offer put before me, and thenceforward I endeavored, for the sake of his tuition, to make myself as agreeable as possible to his daughter. I tell you frankly, however, that I had no particular affection for her, though she seemed already to regard me as her victim. She seized every opportunity of pointing out to me the way in which we should have to steer, both in public and private life. When she wrote to me she never employed the effeminate style of the Kana,[42] but wrote, oh! so magnificently! The great interest which she took in me induced me to pay frequent visits to her; and, by making her my tutor, I learned how to compose ordinary Chinese poems. However, though I do not forget all these benefits, and though it is no doubt true that our wife or daughter should not lack intelligence, yet, for the life of me, I cannot bring myself to approve of a woman like this. And still less likely is it that such could be of any use to the wives of high personages like yourselves. Give me a lovable nature in lieu of sharpness! I quite agree with Sama-no-Kami on this point." "What an interesting woman she must have been," exclaimed Tô-no-Chiûjiô, with the intention of making Shikib go on with his story. This he fully understood, and, making a grimace, he thus proceeded:-- "Once when I went to her after a long absence--a way we all have, you know--she did not receive me openly as usual, but spoke to me from behind a screen. I surmised that this arose from chagrin at my negligence, and I intended to avail myself of this opportunity to break with her. But the sagacious woman was a woman of the world, and not like those who easily lose their temper or keep silence about their grief. She was quite as open and frank as Sama-no-Kami would approve of. She told me, in a low clear voice, 'I am suffering from heartburn, and I cannot, therefore, see you face to face; yet, if you have anything important to say to me, I will listen to you.' This was, no doubt, a plain truth; but what answer could I give to such a terribly frank avowal? 'Thank you,' said I, simply; and I was just on the point of leaving, when, relenting, perhaps, a little, she said aloud, 'Come again soon, and I shall be all right.' To pass this unnoticed would have been impolite; yet I did not like to remain there any longer, especially under such circumstances: so, looking askance, I said-- Here I am, then why excuse me, is my visit all in vain: And my consolation is, you tell me, come again? No sooner had I said this than she dashed out as follows with a brilliancy of repartee which became a woman of her genius:-- 'If we fond lovers were, and meeting every night, I should not be ashamed, were it even in the light!' "Nonsense, nonsense!" cried Genji and the others, who either were, or pretended to be, quite shocked. "Where can there be such a woman as that? She must have been a devil! Fearful! fearful!" And, snapping their fingers with disapproving glances, they said, "Do tell us something better--do give us a better story than that." Shikib-no-Jiô, however, quietly remarked: "I have nothing else to relate," and remained silent. Hereupon a conversation took place to the following effect:-- "It is a characteristic of thoughtless people--and that, without distinction of sex--that they try to show off their small accomplishments. This is, in the highest degree, unpleasant. As for ladies, it may not, indeed, be necessary to be thorough master of the three great histories, and the five classical texts; yet they ought not to be destitute of some knowledge of both public and private affairs, and this knowledge can be imperceptibly acquired without any regular study of them, which, though superficial, will yet be amply sufficient to enable them to talk pleasantly about them with their friends. But how contemptible they would seem if this made them vain of it! The Manna[43] style and pedantic phrases were not meant for them; and, if they use them, the public will only say, 'would that they would remember that they are women and not men,' and they would only incur the reproach of being pedants, as many ladies, especially among the aristocracy, do. Again, while they should not be altogether unversed in poetical compositions, they should never be slaves to them, or allow themselves to be betrayed into using strange quotations, the only consequence of which would be that they would appear to be bold when they ought to be reserved, and abstracted when very likely they have practical duties to attend to. How utterly inappropriate, for instance, it would be on the May festival[44] if, while the attention of all present was concentrated on the solemnity of the occasion, the thoughts of these ladies were wandering on their own poetical imaginations about 'sweet flags;' or if, again, on the Ninth-day festival,[45] when all the nobles present were exercising their inventive faculties on the subject of Chinese poems, they were to volunteer to pour forth their grand ideas on the dew-laid flowers of the chrysanthemum, thus endeavoring to rival their opponents of the stronger sex. There is a time for everything; and all people, but more especially women, should be constantly careful to watch circumstances, and not to air their accomplishments at a time when nobody cares for them. They should practise a sparing economy in displaying their learning and eloquence, and should even, if circumstances require, plead ignorance on subjects with which they are familiar." As to Genji, even these last observations seemed only to encourage his reverie still to run upon a certain one, whom he considered to be the happy medium between the too much and the too little; and, no definite conclusion having been arrived at through the conversation, the evening passed away. The long-continued rainy weather had now cleared up bright and fine, and the Prince Genji proceeded to the mansion of his father-in-law, where Lady Aoi, his bride, still resided with him. She was in her private suite of apartments, and he soon joined her there. She was dignified and stately, both in manners and demeanor, and everything about her bore traces of scrupulous neatness. "Such may be one of those described by Sama-no-Kami, in whom we may place confidence," he thought, as he approached her. At the same time, her lofty queenliness caused him to feel a momentary embarrassment, which he at once tried to hide by chatting with the attendant maid. The air was close and heavy, and he was somewhat oppressed by it. His father-in-law happened to pass by the apartment. He stopped and uttered a few words from behind the curtain which overhung the door. "In this hot weather," said Genji, in a low tone, "what makes him come here?" and did not give the slightest encouragement to induce his father-in-law to enter the room; so he passed along. All present smiled significantly, and tittered. "How indiscreet!" exclaimed Genji, glancing at them reprovingly, and throwing himself back on a _kiô-sok_ (arm-stool), where he remained calm and silent. It was, by no means, becoming behavior on the part of the Prince. The day was drawing to an end when it was announced that the mansion was closed in the certain celestial direction of the Naka-gami (central God).[46] His own mansion in Nijiô (the one mentioned as being repaired in a previous chapter) was also in the same line of direction. "Where shall I go then?" said Genji, and without troubling himself any further, went off into a doze. All present expressed in different words their surprise at his unusual apathy. Thereupon some one reported that the residence of Ki-no-Kami, who was in waiting on the Prince, on the banks of the middle river (the River Kiôgok) had lately been irrigated by bringing the stream into its gardens, making them cool and refreshing. "That's very good, especially on such a close evening," exclaimed Genji, rousing himself, and he at once intimated to Ki-no-Kami his desire of visiting his house. To which the latter answered simply, "Yes." He did not, however, really like the Prince's visit, and was reluctantly telling his fellow attendants that, owing to a certain circumstance which had taken place at Iyo-no-Kami's[47] residence, his wife (Ki-no-Kami's stepmother) had taken up her abode with him that very evening, and that the rooms were all in confusion. Genji heard all this distinctly, but he would not change his mind, and said, "That is all the better! I don't care to stay in a place where no fair statue dwells; it is slow work." Being thus pressed, no alternative remained for the Ki-no-Kami, and a messenger was despatched to order the preparation of apartments for the Prince. Not long after this messenger had gone, Genji started on his way to the house of Ki-no-Kami, whose mild objections against this quick proceeding were not listened to. He left the mansion as quietly as possible, even without taking formal leave of its master, and his escort consisted of a few favorite attendants. The "eastern front room" in the "dwelling quarters" was wide open, and a temporary arrangement was made for the reception of the Prince, who arrived there very quickly. The scene of the garden struck him before anything else. The surface of the lake sparkled with its glittering waters. The hedges surrounded it in rustic beauty, and luxuriant shrubs grew in pleasing order. Over all the fair scene the breeze of evening swept softly, summer insects sang distinctly here and there, and the fireflies hovered about in mazy dances. The escort took up its quarters in a position which overlooked the stream of water which ran beneath the corridor, and here began to take cups of _saké_. The host hastened to order also some refreshment to be prepared for Genji. The latter was meanwhile gazing abstractedly about him, thinking such a place might belong to the class which Sama-no-Kami fairly placed in the middle category. He knew that the lady who was under the same roof was a young beauty of whom he had heard something before, and he was looking forward to a chance of seeing her. He then noticed the rustling of a silken dress escaping from a small boudoir to the right, and some youthful voices, not without charm, were also heard, mingled with occasional sounds of suppressed laughter. The casement of the boudoir had been, until a short time before, open, but was pulled down by order of Ki-no-Kami, who, perhaps, doubted the propriety of its being as it was, and now only allowed a struggling light to issue through the paper of the "sliding screen!" He proceeded to one side of his room that he might see what could be seen, but there was no chance. He still stood there that he might be able, at least, to catch some part of the conversation. It seems that this boudoir adjoined the general family room of the female inmates, and his ears were greeted by some faint talking. He inclined his head attentively, and heard them whispering probably about himself. "Is it not a pity that the fate of so fine a prince should be already fixed?" said one voice. "Yet he loses no opportunity of availing himself of the favors of fortune," added another. These remarks may have been made with no serious intention, but as to Genji, he, even in hearing them, could not help thinking of a certain fair image of which he so fondly dreamt. At the same time feeling a thrill on reflecting that, if this kind of secret were to be discovered and discussed in such a manner, what could be done. He then heard an observation in delicate allusion to his verse which he had presented to the Princess Momo-zono (peach-gardens) with the flowers of Asagao (morning-glory, or convolvulus). "What _cautious_ beauties they are to talk in that way! But I wonder if their forms when seen will answer to the pictures of my fancy," thought Genji, as he retired to his original position, for he could hear nothing more interesting. Ki-no-Kami presently entered the room, brought in some fruits, trimmed the lamp, and the visitor and host now began to enjoy a pleasant leisure. "What has become of the ladies? Without some of them no society is cheerful," observed Genji. "Who can there be to meet such wishes?" said the Ki-no-Kami to himself, but took no notice of Genji's remark. There were several boys in the house who had followed Ki-no-Kami into the room. They were the sons and brothers of Ki-no-Kami. Among them there was one about twelve or thirteen, who was nicer-looking than the others. Genji, of course, did not know who they all were, and accordingly made inquiries. When he came to the last-mentioned boy, Ki-no-Kami replied:-- "He is the youngest son of the late Lord Yemon, now an orphan, and, from his sister's connections, he is now staying here. He is shrewd and unlike ordinary boys. His desire is to take Court service, but he has as yet no patron." "What a pity! Is, then, the sister you mentioned your stepmother?" "Yes, sir, it is so." "What a good mother you have got. I once overheard the Emperor, to whom, I believe, a private application had been some time made in her behalf, referring to her, said, 'What has become of her?' Is she here now?" said Genji; and lowering his voice, added, "How changeable are the fortunes of the world!" "It is her present state, sir. But, as you may perceive, it differs from her original expectation. Changeable indeed are the fortunes of this world, especially so the fortunes of women!" "Does Iyo respect her? Perhaps he idolizes her, as his master." "That is a question, perhaps, as a _private_ master. I am the foremost to disapprove of this infatuation on his part." "Are you? Nevertheless he trusts her to such a one as you. He is a kind father! But where are they all?" "All in their private apartments." Genji by this time apparently desired to be alone, and Ki-no-Kami now retired with the boys. All the escort were already slumbering comfortably, each on his own cool rush mat, under the pleasant persuasion of _saké_. Genji was now alone. He tried to doze, but could not. It was late in the evening, and all was still around. His sharpened senses made him aware that the room next but one to his own was occupied, which led him to imagine that the lady of whom he had been speaking might be there. He rose softly, and once more proceeded to the other side of the room to listen to what he might overhear. He heard a tender voice, probably that of Kokimi, the boy spoken of before, who appeared to have just entered the room, saying:-- "Are you here?" To which a female voice replied, "Yes, dear, but has the visitor yet retired?" And the same voice added-- "Ah! so near, and yet so far!" "Yes, I should think so, he is so nice-looking, as they say." "Were it daytime I would see him, too," said the lady in a drowsy voice. "I shall go to bed, too! But what a bad light," said the boy, and Genji conjectured that he had been trimming the lamp. The lady presently clapped her hands for a servant, and said, "Where is Chiûjiô, I feel lonely, I wish to see her." "Madam, she is in the bath now, she will be here soon," replied the servant. "Suppose I pay my visit to her, too? What harm! no harm, perhaps," said Genji to himself. He withdrew the fastening of the intervening door, on the other side there was none, and it opened. The entrance to the room where the lady was sitting was only screened by a curtain, with a glimmering light inside. By the reflection of this light he saw travelling trunks and bags all scattered about; through these he groped his way and approached the curtain. He saw, leaning on a cushion, the small and pretty figure of a lady, who did not seem to notice his approach, probably thinking it was Chiûjiô, for whom she had sent. Genji felt nervous, but struggling against the feeling, startled the lady by saying:-- "Chiûjiô was called for, I thought it might mean myself, and I come to offer you my devoted services." This was really an unexpected surprise, and the lady was at a loss. "It is, of course, natural," he said, "you should be astonished at my boldness, but pray excuse me. It is solely from my earnest desire to show at such an opportunity the great respect for you which I have felt for a very long time." He was clever enough to know how to speak, and what to say, under all circumstances, and made the above speech in such an extremely humble and insinuating manner that the demon himself could not have taken offence, so she forbore to show any sudden resentment. She had, however, grave doubts as to the propriety of his conduct, and felt somewhat uncomfortable, saying shyly, "Perhaps you have made a mistake!" "No, certainly not," he replied. "What mistake can I have made? On the other hand, I have no wish to offend you. The evening, however, is very irksome, and I should feel obliged if you would permit me to converse with you." Then gently taking her hand he pressed her to return with him to his lonely apartment. She was still young and weak, and did not know what was most proper to do under these circumstances, so half yielding, half reluctantly was induced to be led there by him. At this juncture Chiûjiô, for whom she had sent previously, entered the room. Upon which Genji exclaimed "Ha!" Chiûjiô stared with astonishment at him, whom she at once recognized as the Prince, by the rich perfume which he carried about him. "What does this mean?" thought Chiûjiô. She could still do nothing. Had he been an ordinary personage she would have immediately seized him. Even in that case, however, there was enough room to doubt whether it would not have been better to avoid any violent steps lest it might have given rise to a disagreeable family scandal, hence Chiûjiô was completely perplexed and mechanically followed them. Genji was too bold to fear bystanders, a common fault with high personages, and coolly closed the door upon her saying, "She will soon return to you." The lady being placed in such an awkward position, and not knowing what Chiûjiô might imagine, became, as it were, bewildered. Genji was, however, as artful and insinuating as might be expected in consoling her, though we do not know where he had learnt his eloquence. This was really trying for her, and she said, "Your condescension is beyond my merit. I cannot disregard it. It is, however, absolutely necessary to know 'Who is who.'" "But such ignorance," he a little abashed, rejoined "as not to know 'Who is who,' is the very proof of my inexperience. Were I supposed to understand too well, I should indeed be sorry. You have very likely heard how little I mix in the world. This perhaps is the very reason why you distrust me. The excess of the blindness of my mind seems strange even to myself." He spoke thus insinuatingly. She, on her part, feared that if his fascinating address should assume a warmer tone it would be still more trying for her and more difficult to withstand, so she determined, however hard she might appear, not to give any encouragement to his feelings, and showed therefore a coolness of manner. To her meek character there was thus added a firm resolution, and it seemed like a young bamboo reed with its strength and tenderness combined, difficult to bend! Still she felt the struggle very keenly, and tears moistened her eyes. Genji could not help feeling touched. Not knowing exactly how to soothe her, he exclaimed, "What makes you treat me so coolly? It is true we are not old acquaintances, but it does not follow that this should prevent us from becoming good friends. Please don't discompose yourself like one who does not know the world at all: it pierces my heart." This speech touched her, and her firmness began to waver. "Were my position what it once was," said she, "and I received such attention, I might, however unworthy, have been moved by your affection, but as my position in life is now changed, its unsatisfactory condition often makes me dream of a happiness I cannot hope to enjoy." Hereupon she remained silent for some moments, and looked as if she meant to say that she could no longer help thinking of the line:-- Don't tell anyone you've seen my home. But these few moments of silence agitated the pure waters of her virtuous mind, and the sudden recollection of her aged husband, whom she did not generally think much about, occurred tenderly to her memory. She shuddered at the idea of his seeing her in such a dilemma as this, even in a dream, and without a word fled back to her apartment, and Genji was once more alone. Now the chanticleer began to proclaim the coming day, and the attendants rose from their couches, some exclaiming "How soundly we have slept," others, "Let us get the carriage ready." Ki-no-Kami also came out saying, "Why so early, no need of such hurry for the Prince." Genji also arose, and putting on his _naoshi_, went out on a balcony on the southern side of the house, where he leaned upon the wooden balustrade and meditated as he looked round him. It appears that people were peeping out of the casement on the western side, probably being anxious to catch a glimpse of the Prince, whose figure was indistinctly to be seen by them from the top of a short screen standing within the trellis. Among these spectators there was one who perhaps might have felt a thrill run through her frame as she beheld him. It was the very moment when the sky was being tinted by the glowing streaks of morn, and the moon's pale light was still lingering in the far distance. The aspect of the passionless heavens becomes radiant or gloomy in response to the heart of him who looks upon it. And to Genji, whose thoughts were secretly occupied with the events of the evening, the scene could only have given rise to sorrowful emotions. Reflecting how he might on some future occasion convey a message to the lady, and looking back several times, he presently quitted the house and returned to the mansion of his father-in-law. During some days succeeding the above events, he was staying at the mansion with his bride. His thoughts, however, were now constantly turning to the lady on the bank of the middle river. He therefore summoned Ki-no-Kami before him, and thus addressed him:-- "Cannot you let me have the boy, the son of the late Chiûnagon[48] whom I saw the other day? He is a nice lad, and I wish to have him near at hand. I will also introduce him to the Emperor." "I receive your commands. I will talk with his _sister_, and see if she consents to it," replied Ki-no-Kami with a bow. These last words alluding to the object which occupied his thoughts caused Genji to start, but he said with apparent calmness-- "Has the lady presented you yet with a brother or a sister?" "No, sir, not yet; she has been married now these two years, but it seems she is always thinking she is not settled in the way her parents desired, and is not quite contented with her position." "What a pity! I heard, however, she was a very good lady. Is it so?" "Yes, I quite believe so; but hitherto we have lived separately, and were not very cordial, which, as all the world knows, is usual in such relationship." After the lapse of five or six days the boy Kokimi was brought to him. He was not tall or handsome but very intelligent, and in manners perfectly well-bred. Genji treated him with the greatest kindness, at which, in his boyish mind, he was highly delighted. Genji now asked him many questions about his sister, to which he gave such answers as he could, but often with shyness and diffidence. Hence Genji was unable to take him into his confidence, but by skilfully coaxing and pleasing him, he ventured to hand him a letter to be taken to his sister. The boy, though he possibly guessed at its meaning, did not trouble himself much, but taking it, duly delivered it to his sister. She became confused and thoughtful as she took it, and fearing what the boy might think, opened the letter and held it before her face as she read, in order to conceal the expression of her countenance. It was a long one, and among other things contained the following lines:-- I had a dream, a dream so sweet, Ah! would that I could dream again; Alas, no sleep these eyes will greet, And so I strive to dream in vain! It was beautifully written, and as her eyes fell upon the passionate words, a mist gathered over them, and a momentary thought of her own life and position once more flashed over her mind, and without a word of comment to the boy, she retired to rest. A few days afterwards Kokimi was again invited to join the Prince. Thereupon he asked his sister to give him an answer to the Prince's letter. "Tell the Prince," she said, "there is no one _here_ who reads such letters." "But," said the boy, "he does not expect such an answer as this! How can I tell him so?" At first, she half-resolved to explain everything to Kokimi, and to make him thoroughly understand why she ought not to receive such letters, but the effort was too painful, so she simply said, "It is all the better for you not to talk in that way. If you think it so serious why should you go to him at all?" "Yet, how can I disobey his commands to go back?" exclaimed the boy, and so he returned to Genji without any written answer to him. "I was weary of waiting for you. Perhaps you, too, had forgotten me," said Genji, when he saw the boy, who was, however, silent and blushed. "And what answer have you brought me?" continued Genji, and then the boy replied in the exact words which his sister had used. "What?" cried Genji: and continued, "Perhaps you may not know, so I will tell you. I knew your sister before she knew Iyo. But she likes to treat me so because she thinks she has got a very good friend in Iyo; but do you be like a brother to me. The days of Iyo will be probably fewer than mine." He now returned to the Palace taking Komini with him, and, going to his dressing-room, attired him nicely in the Court style; in a word, he treated him as a parent would do. By the boy's assistance several more letters were conveyed to his sister. Her resolution, however, remained unshaken. "If one's heart were once to deviate from the path," she reflected, "the only end we could expect would be a damaged reputation and misery for life: the good and the bad result from one's self!" Thus thinking, she resolved to return no answer. She might, indeed, have admired the person of Genji, and probably did so, yet, whenever such feelings came into her mind, the next thought that suggested itself was, "What is the use of such idle admiration?" Meanwhile, Genji was often thinking of paying a visit to the house where she was staying, but he did not consider it becoming to do so, without some reasonable pretext, more especially as he would have been sorry, and for her sake more than his own, to draw a suspicion upon her. It happened, however, after a prolonged residence at the Court, that another occasion of closing the Palace in the certain celestial line of direction arrived. Catching at this opportunity he left the Palace, and suddenly turning out of his road, went straight to Ki-no-Kami's residence, with the excuse that he had just discovered the above fact on his way. Ki-no-Kami surprised at this unexpected visit, had only to bow before him, and acknowledge the honor of his presence. The boy, Kokimi, was already there before him, having been secretly informed of his intention beforehand, and he attended on him as usual in his apartment on his arrival. The lady, who had been told by her brother that the Prince earnestly desired to see her, knew well how dangerous it was to approach an inviting flower growing on the edge of a precipice. She was not, of course, insensible to his coming in such a manner, with an excuse for the sake of seeing her, but she did not wish to increase her dreamlike inquietude by seeing him. And again, if he ventured to visit her apartment, as he did before, it might be a serious compromise for her. For these reasons she retired while her brother was with Genji, to a private chamber of Chiûjiô, her companion, in the rear of the main building, under the pretence that her own room was too near that of the Prince, besides she was indisposed and required "Tataki,"[49] which she desired to have done in a retired part of the house. Genji sent his attendants very early to their own quarters, and then, through Kokimi, requested an interview with the lady. Kokimi at first was unable to find her, till after searching everywhere, he, at last, came to the apartment of Chiûjiô, and with great earnestness endeavored to persuade her to see Genji, in an anxious and half trembling voice, while she replied in a tone slightly angry, "What makes you so busy? Why do you trouble yourself? Boys carrying such messages are highly blamable." After thus daunting him, she added, more mildly, "Tell the Prince I am somewhat indisposed, and also that some friends are with me, and I cannot well leave them now." And she again cautioned the boy not to be too officious, and sent him away from her at once. Yet, at the bottom of her heart, different feelings might have been struggling from those which her words seemed to express, and some such thoughts as these shaped themselves to her mind: "Were I still a maiden in the home of my beloved parents, and occasionally received his visits there, how happy might I not be? How trying to act as if no romantic sentiment belonged to my heart!" Genji, who was anxiously waiting to know how the boy would succeed in persuading his sister, was soon told that all his efforts were in vain. Upon hearing this he remained for some moments silent, and then relieved his feelings with a long-drawn sigh, and hummed:-- "The Hahaki-gi[50] distant tree Spreads broom-like o'er the silent waste; Approach, how changed its shape we see, In vain we try its shade to taste." The lady was unable to sleep, and her thoughts also took the following poetic shape:-- Too like the Hahaki-gi tree, Lonely and humble, I must dwell, Nor dare to give a thought to thee, But only sigh a long farewell. All the other inmates of the house were now in a sound slumber, but sleep came not to Genji's eyes. He did, indeed, admire her immovable and chaste nature, but this only drew his heart more towards her. He was agitated. At one moment he cried, "Well, then!" at another, "However!" "Still!" At last, turning to the boy, he passionately exclaimed, "Lead me to her at once!" Kokimi calmly replied, "It is impossible, too many eyes are around us!" Genji with a sigh then threw himself back on the cushion, saying to Kokimi, "You, at least, will be my friend, and shall share my apartment!" FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 22: A hero of an older fiction, who is represented as the perfect ideal of a gallant.] [Footnote 23: A fast observed when some remarkable or supernatural event took place, or on the anniversary of days of domestic misfortune.] [Footnote 24: A general of the Imperial Guards.] [Footnote 25: Love letters generally are not signed or are signed with a fancy name.] [Footnote 26: Left Master of the Horse.] [Footnote 27: Secretary to the Master of Ceremonies.] [Footnote 28: Deputy-governors of provinces. In those days these functionaries were greatly looked down upon by the Court nobles, and this became one of the causes of the feudal system.] [Footnote 29: The naoshi is an outer attire. It formed part of a loose and unceremonious Court dress.] [Footnote 30: This alludes to a common habit of women, who push back their hair before commencing any task.] [Footnote 31: Some kinds of nuns did not shave their heads, and this remark seems to allude to the common practice of women who often involuntarily smooth their hair before they see people, which practice comes, no doubt, from the idea that the beauty of women often depends on the tidiness of their hair.] [Footnote 32: This means that her soul, which was sinful, would not go at once to its final resting-place, but wander about in unknown paths.] [Footnote 33: A mountain spoken of in Chinese literature. It was said to be in the Eastern Ocean, and people of extraordinary long lives, called Sennin, were supposed to dwell there.] [Footnote 34: In China and Japan handwriting is considered no less an art than painting.] [Footnote 35: An ideal woman patroness of the art of dyeing.] [Footnote 36: The weaver, or star Vega. In the Chinese legend she is personified as a woman always engaged in weaving.] [Footnote 37: In the same legend, it is said that this weaver, who dwells on one side of the Milky Way in the heavens, meets her lover--another star called Hikoboshi, or the bull-driver--once every year, on the evening of the seventh day of the seventh month. He dwelt on the other side of the Milky Way, and their meeting took place on a bridge, made by birds (jays), by the intertwining of their wings. It was this which gave rise to the popular festival, which takes place on this day, both in China and Japan.] [Footnote 38: Little darlings--a kind of pink.] [Footnote 39: The Tokonatz (everlasting summer) is another name for the pink, and it is poetically applied to the lady whom we love.] [Footnote 40: A female divinity in Indian mythology.] [Footnote 41: From the Chinese poet Hak-rak-ten, who was mentioned before. He says in one of his poems: "Once upon a time a certain host invited to his abode a clever match-maker. When the guests were assembled he poured forth wine into a beautiful jar, and said to all present, 'drink not for a moment, but hear what I say about the two choices, daughters of the rich get married soon, but snub their husbands, daughters of the poor get married with difficulty but dearly love their mothers-in-law.'"] [Footnote 42: A soft style of Japanese writing commonly used by ladies.] [Footnote 43: A stiff and formal style of Japanese writing.] [Footnote 44: The fifth of May is one of the five important national festivals. A solemn celebration of this fête used to be performed at Court. It is sometimes called the festival of the "Sweet Flags,"--_calami aromatici_--because it was held at the season when those beautiful water-plants were in the height of perfection.] [Footnote 45: Another of the five above-mentioned. It was held on the ninth of September, and it was customary on the occasion for rhymes to be given out to those present, wherewith to compose Chinese poems. It was sometimes called the "Chrysanthemum Festival," for the same reason that the celebration of the fifth of May was termed the "Sweet Flag Festival."] [Footnote 46: This is an astrological superstition. It is said that when this God is in any part of the compass, at the time being, it is most unlucky to proceed towards it, and to remain in the same line of its direction.] [Footnote 47: The deputy governor of the province Iyo; he is supposed to be in the province at this time, leaving his young wife and family behind.] [Footnote 48: The father of Kokimi seems to have been holding the office Yemon-no-Kami as well as Chiûnagon.] [Footnote 49: Tataki, or Amma, a sort of shampooing, a very common medical treatment in Japan.] [Footnote 50: Hahaki-gi, the broom-like tree, is said to have been a certain tree growing in the plain of Sonohara, so called from its shape, which, at a distance, looked like a spreading broom, but when one comes near, its appearance was totally changed.] CHAPTER III BEAUTIFUL CICADA Genji was still sleepless! "Never have I been so badly treated. I have now discovered what the disappointment of the world means," he murmured, while the boy Kokimi lay down beside him fast asleep. The smallness of his stature, and the graceful waving of his short hair, could not but recall to Genji the beautiful tresses of his sister, and bring her image vividly before him; and, long before the daylight appeared, he rose up, and returned to his residence with all speed. For some time after this no communication took place between the lady and himself. He could not, however, banish her from his thoughts, and he said to Kokimi that "he felt his former experience too painful, and that he strove to drive away his care; yet in vain; his thoughts would not obey his wish, and he begged him, therefore, to seek some favorable opportunity for him to see her." Kokimi, though he did not quite like the task, felt proud of being made his confidant, and thenceforward looked incessantly, with keen boyish eyes, for a chance of obliging him. Now, it happened that Ki-no-Kami went down to his official residence in his province, and only the female members of his family were left at home. "This is the time," said Kokimi to himself, and went to Genji, and persuaded him to come with him. "What can the boy do?" thought Genji; "I fear not very much, but I must not expect too much"; and they started at once, in Kokimi's carriage, so as to arrive in good time. The evening was darkening round them, and they drew up on one side of the house, where few persons were likely to observe them. As it happened to be Kokimi who had come, no fuss was made about his arrival, nor any notice taken of it. He entered the house; and, leaving the Prince in the Eastern Hall, proceeded first into the inner room. The casement was closed. "How is it the casement is closed?" he demanded of the servants. They told him "That the Lady of the West (Ki-no-Kami's sister, so called by the domestics from her living to the westward of the house) was there on a visit since noon, and was playing Go with his sister." The door by which the boy had entered the room was not entirely closed. Genji softly came up to it, and the whole interior of the apartment was visible. He stood facing the west. On one side of the room was a folding screen, one end of which was pushed back, and there was nothing besides to obstruct his view. His first glance fell on the fair figure of her of whom he had so fondly dreamt, sitting by a lamp near a central pillar. She wore a dress of dark purple, and a kind of scarf thrown over her shoulders; her figure was slight and delicate, and her face was partly turned aside, as if she did not like to expose it even to her companions. Her hands were prettily shaped and tiny, and she used them with a gentle reserve, half covering them. Another lady, younger than herself, sat facing the east--that is, just opposite Genji--and was, therefore, entirely visible to him. She was dressed in a thin white silk, with a Ko-uchiki (outer vestment), worked with red and blue flowers, thrown loosely over it, and a crimson sash round her waist. Her bosom was partly revealed; her complexion very fair; her figure rather stout and tall; the head and neck in good proportions, and the lips and eyelids lovely. The hair was not very long, but reached in wavy lines to her shoulders. "If a man had such a daughter, he might be satisfied," thought Genji. "But perhaps she may be a little deficient in quietness. No matter how this may be, she has sufficient attractions." The game was drawing to a close, and they paid very little attention to Kokimi on his entrance. The principal interest in it was over; they were hurrying to finish it. One was looking quietly at the board, and said, "Let me see, that point must be Ji. Let me play the Kôh[51] of this spot." The other saying, "I am beaten; let me calculate," began to count on her fingers the number of spaces at each corner, at the same time saying "Ten! twenty! thirty! forty!" When Genji came in this way to see them together, he perceived that his idol, in the matter of personal beauty, was somewhat inferior to her friend. He was not, indeed, able to behold the full face of the former; yet, when he shifted his position, and fixed his gaze steadfastly upon her, the profile became distinct. He observed that her eyelids were a little swollen, and the line of the nose was not very delicate. He still admired her, and said to himself, "But perhaps she is more sweet-tempered than the others"; but when he again turned his eyes to the younger one, strange to say the calm and cheerful smile which occasionally beamed in her face touched the heart of Genji; moreover, his usual interviews with ladies generally took place in full ceremony. He had never seen them in so familiar an attitude before, without restraint or reserve, as on the present occasion, which made him quite enjoy the scene. Kokimi now came out, and Genji retired stealthily to one side of the door along the corridor. The former, who saw him there, and supposed he had remained waiting in the place he had left him all the while, apologized for keeping him so long, and said: "A certain young lady is now staying here; I am sorry, but I did not dare mention your visit." "Do you mean to send me away again disappointed? How inglorious it is," replied Genji. "No; why so? The lady may leave shortly. I will then announce you." Genji said no more. The ladies had by this time concluded their game, and the servants, who were about to retire to their own apartments, cried out, "Where is our young master? we must close this door." "Now is the time; pray take me there; don't be too late. Go and ask," said Genji. Kokimi knew very well how hard was his task to persuade his sister to see the Prince, and was meditating taking him into her room, without her permission, when she was alone. So he said, hesitatingly, "Please wait a little longer, till the other lady, Ki-no-Kami's sister, goes away." "Is Ki-no's sister here? So much the better. Please introduce me to her before she leaves," said Genji. "But!" "But what? Do you mean that she is not worth seeing?" retorted Genji; and would fain have told the boy that he had already seen her, but thought it better not to do so, and continued: "Were we to wait for her to retire, it would become too late; we should have no chance." Hereupon Kokimi determined to risk a little, and went back to his sister's room, rolling up a curtain which hung in his way. "It is too warm--let the air in!" he cried, as he passed through. After a few minutes he returned, and led Genji to the apartment on his own responsibility. The lady with the scarf (his sister), who had been for some time fondly supposing that Genji had given up thinking about her, appeared startled and embarrassed when she saw him; but, as a matter of course, the usual courtesies were paid. The younger lady, however (who was free from all such thoughts), was rather pleased at his appearance. It happened that, when the eyes of the younger were turned in another direction, Genji ventured to touch slightly the shoulder of his favorite, who, startled at the action rose suddenly and left the room, on pretence of seeking something she required, dropping her scarf in her haste, as a cicada casts off its tender wingy shell, and leaving her friend to converse with the Prince. He was chagrined, but did not betray his vexation either by words or looks, and now began to carry on a conversation with the lady who remained, whom he had already admired. Here his usual bold flirtation followed. The young lady, who was at first disturbed at his assurance, betrayed her youthful inexperience in such matters; yet for an innocent maiden, she was rather coquettish, and he went on flirting with her. "Chance meetings like this," said he, "often arise from deeper causes than those which take place in the usual routine of things, so at least say the ancients. If I say I love you, you might not believe me; and yet, indeed, it is so. Do think of me! True, we are not yet quite free, and perhaps I might not be able to see you so often as I wish; but I hope you will wait with patience, and not forget me." "Truly, I also fear what people might suspect; and, therefore, I may not be able to communicate with you at all," said she, innocently. "Perhaps it might not be desirable to employ any other hand," he rejoined. "If you only send your message, say through Kokimi, there would not be any harm." Genji now rose to depart, and slyly possessed himself of the scarf which had been dropped by the other lady. Kokimi, who had been dozing all the time, started up suddenly when Genji roused him. He then led the latter to the door. At this moment, the tremulous voice of an aged female domestic, who appeared quite unexpectedly, exclaimed-- "Who is there?" To which Kokimi immediately replied, "It is I!" "What brings you here so late?" asked the old woman, in a querulous tone. "How inquisitive! I am now going out. What harm?" retorted the boy, rather scornfully; and, stepping up to the threshold, gave Genji a push over it, when all at once the shadow of his tall figure was projected on the moonlit floor. "Who's that?" cried the old woman sharply, and in alarm; but the next moment, without waiting for any reply, mumbled on: "Ah, ah! 'tis Miss Mimb, no wonder so tall." This remark seemed to allude to one of her fellow-servants, who must have been a stalwart maiden, and the subject of remarks among her companions. The old woman, quite satisfied in thinking that it was she who was with Kokimi, added: "You, my young master, will soon be as tall as she is; I will come out this way, too," and approached the door. Genji could do nothing but stand silent and motionless. When she came nearer she said, addressing the supposed Mimb, "Have you been waiting on the young mistress this evening? I have been ill since the day before yesterday, and kept myself to my room, but was sent for this evening because my services were required. I cannot stand it." So saying, and without waiting for any reply, she passed on, muttering as she went, "Oh! my pain! my pain!" Genji and the boy now went forth, and they drove back to the mansion in Nijiô. Talking over the events of the evening, Genji ironically said to his companion, "Ah! you are a nice boy!" and snapped his fingers with chagrin at the escape of his favorite and her indifference. Kokimi said nothing. Genji then murmured, "I was clearly slighted. Oh wretched me! I cannot rival the happy Iyo!" Shortly after, he retired to rest, taking with him, almost unconsciously, the scarf he had carried off, and again making Kokimi share his apartment, for company's sake. He had still some hope that the latter might be useful to him; and, with the intention of stirring up his energies, observed, "You are a nice boy; but I am afraid the coldness shown to me by your sister may at last weaken the friendship between you and me." Kokimi still made no reply. Genji closed his eyes but could not sleep, so he started up and, taking writing materials, began to write, apparently without any fixed purpose, and indited the following distich:-- "Where the cicada casts her shell In the shadows of the tree, There is one whom I love well, Though her heart is cold to me." Casting away the piece of paper on which these words were written--purposely or not, who knows?--he again leaned his head on his hand. Kokimi slyly stretching out his hand, picked up the paper from the floor, and hid it quickly in his dress. Genji soon fell into profound slumber, in which he was speedily joined by Kokimi. Some days passed away and Kokimi returned to his sister, who, on seeing him, chided him severely, saying:-- "Though I managed with some difficulty, we must not forget what people might say of us, _your_ officiousness is most unpardonable. Do you know what the Prince himself will think of your childish trick?" Thus was poor Kokimi, on the one hand, reproached by Genji for not doing enough, and on the other by his sister for being too officious! was he not in a very happy position! Yet, notwithstanding her words, he ventured to draw from his dress the paper he had picked up in Genji's apartment, and offered it to her. The lady hesitated a moment, though somewhat inclined to read it, holding it in her hand for some little time, undecided. At length she ventured to throw her eyes over its contents. At once the loss of her scarf floated upon her mind as she read, and, taking up her pen, wrote on part of the paper where Genji had written his verses, the words of a song:-- "Amidst dark shadows of the tree, Cicada's wing with dew is wet, So in mine eyes unknown to thee, Spring sweet tears of fond regret." FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 51: Ji and Kôh are the names of certain positions in the game of "Go."] CHAPTER IV EVENING GLORY It happened that when Genji was driving about in the Rokjiô quarter, he was informed that his old nurse, Daini, was ill, and had become a nun. Her residence was in Gojiô. He wished to visit her, and drove to the house. The main gate was closed, so that his carriage could not drive up; therefore, he sent in a servant to call out Koremitz, a son of the nurse. Meantime, while awaiting him, he looked round on the deserted terrace. He noticed close by a small and rather dilapidated dwelling, with a wooden fence round a newly-made enclosure. The upper part, for eight or ten yards in length, was surrounded by a trellis-work, over which some white reed blinds--rude, but new--were thrown. Through these blinds the indistinct outline of some fair heads were faintly delineated, and the owners were evidently peeping down the roadway from their retreat. "Ah," thought Genji, "they can never be so tall as to look over the blind. They must be standing on something within. But whose residence is it? What sort of people are they?" His equipage was strictly private and unostentatious. There were, of course, no outriders; hence he had no fear of being recognized by them. And so he still watched the house. The gate was also constructed of something like trellis-work, and stood half open, revealing the loneliness of the interior. The line: "Where do we seek our home?" came first into his mind, and he then thought that "even this must be as comfortable as golden palaces to its inmates." A long wooden rail, covered with luxuriant creepers, which, fresh and green, climbed over it in full vigor, arrested his eye; their white blossoms, one after another disclosing their smiling lips in unconscious beauty. Genji began humming to himself: "Ah! stranger crossing there." When his attendant informed him that these lovely white flowers were called "Yûgao" (evening-glory), adding, and at the same time pointing to the flowers, "See the flowers _only_, flourishing in that glorious state." "What beautiful flowers they are," exclaimed Genji. "Go and beg a bunch." The attendant thereupon entered the half-opened gate and asked for some of them, on which a young girl, dressed in a long tunic, came out, taking an old fan in her hand, and saying, "Let us put them on this, those with strong stems," plucked off a few stalks and laid them on the fan. These were given to the attendant, who walked slowly back. Just as he came near to Genji, the gate of Koremitz's courtyard opened and Koremitz himself appeared, who took the flowers from him and handed them to Genji, at the same moment saying, "I am very sorry I could not find the gate key, and that I made you wait so long in the public road, though there is no one hereabouts to stare at, or recognize you, I sincerely beg your pardon." The carriage was now driven in, and Genji alighted. The Ajari,[52] elder brother of Koremitz; Mikawa-no-Kami, his brother-in-law; and the daughter of Daini, all assembled and greeted him. The nun also rose from her couch to welcome him. "How pleased I am to see you," she said, "but you see I have quite altered, I have become a nun. I have given up the world. I had no reluctance in doing this. If I had any uneasiness, it was on your account alone. My health, however, is beginning to improve; evidently the divine blessing on this sacrifice." "I was so sorry," replied Genji, "to hear you were ill, and now still more so to find you have given up the world. I hope that you may live to witness my success and prosperity. It grieves me to think you were compelled to make such a change; yet, I believe, this will secure your enjoyment of happiness hereafter. It is said that when one leaves this world without a single regret, one passes straight to Paradise." As he said these words his eyes became moistened. Now, it is common for nurses to regard their foster children with blind affection, whatever may be their faults, thinking, so to speak, that what is crooked is straight. So in Genji's case, who, in Daini's eyes, was next door to perfection, this blindness was still more strongly apparent, and she always regarded her office as his nurse, as an honor, and while Genji was discoursing in the above manner, a tear began to trickle from her eyes. "You know," he continued, "at what an early age I was deprived of my dearest ties; there were, indeed, several who looked after me, but you were the one to whom I was most attached. In due course, after I grew up, I ceased to see you regularly. I could not visit you as often as I thought of you, yet, when I did not see you for a long time, I often felt very lonely. Ah! if there were no such things as partings in the world!" He then enjoined them earnestly to persevere in prayer for their mother's health, and said, "Good-by." At the moment of quitting the house he remembered that something was written on the fan that held the flowers. It was already twilight, and he asked Koremitz to bring a taper, that he might see to read it. It seemed to him as if the fragrance of some fair hand that had used it still remained, and on it was written the following couplets:-- "The crystal dew at Evening's hour Sleeps on the Yûgao's beauteous flower, Will this please him, whose glances bright, Gave to the flowers a dearer light?" With apparent carelessness, without any indication to show who the writer was, it bore, however, the marks of a certain excellence. Genji thought, "this is singular, coming from whence it does," and turning to Koremitz, he asked, "Who lives in this house to your right?" "Ah," exclaimed Koremitz mentally, "as usual, I see," but replied with indifference, "Truly I have been here some days, but I have been so busy in attending my mother that I neither know nor have asked about the neighbors." "You may probably be surprised at my inquisitiveness," said Genji, "but I have reasons for asking this on account of this fan. I request you to call on them, and make inquiries what sort of people they are." Koremitz thereupon proceeded to the house, and, calling out a servant, sought from him the information he wanted, when he was told that, "This is the house of Mr. Yômei-no-Ske. He is at present in the country; his lady is still young; her brothers are in the Court service, and often come here to see her. The whole history of the family I am not acquainted with." With this answer Koremitz returned, and repeated it to Genji, who thought, "Ah! the sending of this verse may be a trick of these conceited Court fellows!" but he could not entirely free his mind from the idea of its having been sent especially to himself. This was consistent with the characteristic vanity of his disposition. He, therefore, took out a paper, and disguising his handwriting (lest it should be identified), indited the following:-- "Were I the flower to see more near, Which once at dusky eve I saw, It might have charms for me more dear, And look more beauteous than before." And this he sent to the house by his servant, and set off on his way. He saw a faint light through the chinks of the blinds of the house, like the glimmer of the firefly. It gave him, as he passed, a silent sort of longing. The mansion in Rokjiô, to which he was proceeding this evening, was a handsome building, standing amidst fine woods of rare growth and beauty, and all was of comfortable appearance. Its mistress was altogether in good circumstances, and here Genji spent the hours in full ease and comfort. On his way home next morning he again passed the front of the house, where grew the Yûgao flowers, and the recollection of flowers which he had received the previous evening, made him anxious to ascertain who the people were who lived there. After the lapse of some time Koremitz came to pay him a visit, excusing himself for not having come before, on account of his mother's health being more unsatisfactory. He said, "In obedience to your commands to make further inquiries, I called on some people who know about my neighbors, but could not get much information. I was told, however, that there is a lady who has been living there since last May, but who she is even the people in the house do not know. Sometimes I looked over the hedges between our gardens, and saw the youthful figure of a lady, and a maiden attending her, in a style of dress which betrayed a good origin. Yesterday evening, after sunset, I saw the lady writing a letter, her face was very calm in expression, but full of thought, and her attendant was often sobbing secretly, as she waited on her. These things I saw distinctly." Genji smiled. He seemed more anxious than before to know something about them, and Koremitz continued: "Hoping to get some fuller information, I took an opportunity which presented itself of sending a communication to the house. To this a speedy answer was returned, written by a skilful hand. I concluded from this and other circumstances that there was something worth seeing and knowing enclosed within those walls." Genji immediately exclaimed, "Do! do! try again; not to be able to find out is too provoking," and he thought to himself, "If in lowly life, which is often left unnoticed, we find something attractive and fair, as Sama-no-Kami said, how delightful it will be, and I think, perhaps, this may be such a one." In the meantime his thoughts were occasionally reverting to Cicada. His nature was not, perhaps, so perverted as to think about persons of such condition and position in life as Cicada; but since he had heard the discussion about women, and their several classifications, he had somehow become speculative in his sentiments, and ambitious of testing all those different varieties by his own experience. While matters were in this state Iyo-no-Kami returned to the capital, and came in haste to pay his respects to Genji. He was a swarthy, repulsive looking man, bearing the traces of a long journey in his appearance, and of advanced age. Still there was nothing unpleasant in his natural character and manners. Genji was about to converse with him freely, but somehow or another an awkward feeling arose in his mind, and threw a restraint upon his cordiality. "Iyo is such an honest old man," he reflected, "it is too bad to take advantage of him. What Sama-no-Kami said is true, 'that to strive to carry out wrong desires is man's evil failing!' Her hardheartedness to me is unpleasant, but from the other side this deserves praise!" It was announced after this that Iyo-no-Kami would return to his province, and take his wife with him, and that his daughter would be left behind to be soon married. This intelligence was far from pleasing to Genji, and he longed once more, only once more to behold the lady of the scarf, and he concerted with Kokimi how to arrange a plan for obtaining an interview. The lady, however, was quite deaf to such proposals, and the only concession she vouchsafed was that she occasionally received a letter, and sometimes answered it. Autumn had now come; Genji was still thoughtful. Lady Aoi saw him but seldom, and was constantly disquieted by his protracted absence from her. There was, as we have before hinted, at Rokjiô, another person whom he had won with great difficulty, and it would have been a little inconsistent if he became too easily tired of her. He indeed had not become cool towards her, but the violence of his passion had somewhat abated. The cause of this seems to have been that this lady was rather too zealous, or, we may say, jealous; besides, her age exceeded that of Genji by some years. The following incident will illustrate the state of matters between them:-- One morning early Genji was about to take his departure, with sleepy eyes, listless and weary, from her mansion at Rokjiô. A slight mist spread over the scene. A maiden attendant of the mistress opened the door for his departure, and led him forth. The shrubbery of flowering trees struck refreshingly on the sight, with interlacing branches in rich confusion, among which was some Asagao in full blossom. Genji was tempted to dally, and looked contemplatively over them. The maiden still accompanied him. She wore a thin silk tunic of light green colors, showing off her graceful waist and figure, which it covered. Her appearance was attractive. Genji looked at her tenderly, and led her to a seat in the garden, and sat down by her side. Her countenance was modest and quiet; her wavy hair was neatly and prettily arranged. Genji began humming in a low tone:-- "The heart that roams from flower to flower, Would fain its wanderings not betray, Yet 'Asagao,' in morning's hour, Impels my tender wish to stray." So saying, he gently took her hand; she, however, without appearing to understand his real meaning, answered thus:-- "You stay not till the mist be o'er, But hurry to depart, Say can the flower you leave, no more Detain your changeful heart?" At this juncture a young attendant in Sasinuki[53] entered the garden, brushing away the dewy mist from the flowers, and began to gather some bunches of Asagao. The scene was one which we might desire to paint, so full of quiet beauty, and Genji rose from his seat, and slowly passed homeward. In those days Genji was becoming more and more an object of popular admiration in society, and we might even attribute the eccentricity of some of his adventures to the favor he enjoyed, combined with his great personal attractions. Where beautiful flowers expand their blossoms even the rugged mountaineer loves to rest under their shade, so wherever Genji showed himself people sought his notice. Now with regard to the fair one about whom Koremitz was making inquiries. After some still further investigations, he came to Genji and told him that "there is some one who often visits there. Who he was I could not at first find out, for he comes with the utmost privacy. I made up my mind to discover him; so one evening I concealed myself outside the house, and waited. Presently the sound of an approaching carriage was heard, and the inmates of the house began to peep out. The lady I mentioned before was also to be seen; I could not see her very plainly, but I can tell you so much: she looked charming. The carriage itself was now seen approaching, and it apparently belonged to some one of rank. A little girl who was peeping out exclaimed, "Ukon, look here, quick, Chiûjiô is coming." Then one older came forward rubbing her hands and saying to the child, 'Don't be so foolish, don't be excited.' How could they tell, I wondered, that the carriage was a Chiûjiô's. I stole forth cautiously and reconnoitred. Near the house there is a small stream, over which a plank had been thrown by way of a bridge. The visitor was rapidly approaching this bridge when an amusing incident occurred: The elder girl came out in haste to meet him, and was passing the bridge, when the skirt of her dress caught in something, and she well-nigh fell into the water. 'Confound that bridge, what a bad Katzragi,'[54] she cried, and suddenly turned pale. How amusing it was, you may imagine. The visitor was dressed in plain style, he was followed by his page, whom I recognized as belonging to Tô-no-Chiûjiô." "I should like to see that same carriage," interrupted Genji eagerly, as he thought to himself, "that house may be the home of the very girl whom he (Tô-no-Chiûjiô) spoke about, perhaps he has discovered her hiding-place." "I have also made an acquaintance," Koremitz continued, "with a certain person in this house, and it was through these means that I made closer observations. The girl who nearly fell over the bridge is, no doubt, the lady's attendant, but they pretend to be all on an equality. Even when the little child said anything to betray them by its remarks, they immediately turned it off." Koremitz laughed as he told this, adding, "this was an amusing trick indeed." "Oh," exclaimed Genji, "I must have a look at them when I go to visit your mother; you must manage this," and with the words the picture of the "Evening-Glory" rose pleasantly before his eyes. Now Koremitz not only was always prompt in attending to the wishes of Prince Genji, but also was by his own temperament fond of carrying on such intrigues. He tried every means to favor his designs, and to ingratiate himself with the lady, and at last succeeded in bringing her and Genji together. The details of the plans by which all this was brought about are too long to be given here. Genji visited her often, but it was with the greatest caution and privacy; he never asked her when they met any particulars about her past life, nor did he reveal his own to her. He would not drive to her in his own carriage, and Koremitz often lent him his own horse to ride. He took no attendant with him except the one who had asked for the "Evening-Glory." He would not even call on the nurse, lest it might lead to discoveries. The lady was puzzled at his reticence. She would sometimes send her servant to ascertain, if possible, what road he took, and where he went. But somehow, by chance or design, he always became lost to her watchful eye. His dress, also, was of the most ordinary description, and his visits were always paid late in the evening. To her all this seemed like the mysteries of old legends. True, she conjectured from his demeanor and ways that he was a person of rank, but she never ascertained exactly who he was. She sometimes reproached Koremitz for bringing her into such strange circumstances. But he cunningly kept himself aloof from such taunts. Be this as it may, Genji still frequently visited her, though at the same time he was not unmindful that this kind of adventure was scarcely consistent with his position. The girl was simple and modest in nature, not certainly manoeuvring, neither was she stately or dignified in mien, but everything about her had a peculiar charm and interest, impossible to describe, and in the full charm of youth not altogether void of experience. "But by what charm in her," thought Genji, "am I so strongly affected; no matter, I am so," and thus his passion continued. Her residence was only temporary, and this Genji soon became aware of. "If she leaves this place," thought he, "and I lose sight of her--for when this may happen is uncertain--what shall I do?" He at last decided to carry her off secretly to his own mansion in Nijiô. True, if this became known it would be an awkward business; but such are love affairs; always some dangers to be risked! He therefore fondly entreated her to accompany him to some place where they could be freer. Her answer, however, was "That such a proposal on his part only alarmed her." Genji was amused at her girlish mode of expression, and earnestly said, "Which of us is a fox?[55] I don't know, but anyhow be persuaded by me." And after repeated conversations of the same nature, she at last half-consented. He had much doubt of the propriety of inducing her to take this step, nevertheless her final compliance flattered his vanity. He recollected very well the Tokonatz (Pinks) which Tô-no-Chiûjiô spoke of, but never betrayed that he had any knowledge of that circumstance. It was on the evening of the 15th of August when they were together. The moonlight streamed through the crevices of the broken wall. To Genji such a scene was novel and peculiar. The dawn at length began to break, and from the surrounding houses the voices of the farmers might be heard talking. One remarked, "How cool it is." Another, "There is not much hope for our crops this year." "My carrying business I do not expect to answer," responded the first speaker. "But are our neighbors listening!" Conversing in this way they proceeded to their work. Had the lady been one to whom surrounding appearances were important, she might have felt disturbed, but she was far from being so, and seemed as if no outward circumstances could trouble her equanimity, which appeared to him an admirable trait. The noise of the threshing of the corn came indistinctly to their ears like distant thunder. The beating of the bleacher's hammer was also heard faintly from afar off. They were in the front of the house. They opened the window and looked out on the dawn. In the small garden before their eyes was a pretty bamboo grove; their leaves, wet with dew, shone brilliantly, even as bright as in the gardens of the palace. The cricket sang cheerfully in the old walls as if it was at their very ears, and the flight of wild geese in the air rustled overhead. Everything spoke of rural scenes and business, different from what Genji was in the habit of seeing and hearing round him. To him all these sights and sounds, from their novelty and variety, combined with the affection he had for the girl beside him, had a delightful charm. She wore a light dress of clear purple, not very costly; her figure was slight and delicate; the tones of her voice soft and insinuating. "If she were only a little more cultivated," thought he, but, in any case, he was determined to carry her off. "Now is the time," said he, "let us go together, the place is not very far off." "Why so soon?" she replied, gently. As her implied consent to his proposal was thus given without much thought, he, on his part, became bolder. He summoned her maid, Ukon, and ordered the carriage to be got ready. Dawn now fairly broke; the cocks had ceased to crow, and the voice of an aged man was heard repeating his orisons, probably during his fast. "His days will not be many," thought Genji, "what is he praying for?" And while so thinking, the aged mortal muttered, "Nam Tôrai no Dôshi" (Oh! the Divine guide of the future). "Do listen to that prayer," said Genji, turning to the girl, "it shows our life is not limited to this world," and he hummed:-- "Let us together, bind our soul With vows that Woobasok[56] has given, That when this world from sight shall roll Unparted we shall wake in heaven." And added, "By Mirok,[57] let us bind ourselves in love forever." The girl, doubtful of the future, thus replied in a melancholy tone:-- "When in my present lonely lot, I feel my past has not been free From sins which I remember not, I dread more, what to come, may be." In the meantime a passing cloud had suddenly covered the sky, and made its face quite gray. Availing himself of this obscurity, Genji hurried her away and led her to the carriage, where Ukon also accompanied her. They drove to an isolated mansion on the Rokjiô embankment, which was at no great distance, and called out the steward who looked after it. The grounds were in great solitude, and over them lay a thick mist. The curtains of the carriage were not drawn close, so that the sleeves of their dresses were almost moistened. "I have never experienced this sort of trouble before," said Genji; "how painful are the sufferings of love." "Oh! were the ancients, tell me pray, Thus led away, by love's keen smart, I ne'er such morning's misty ray Have felt before with beating heart. Have you ever?" The lady shyly averted her face and answered:-- "I, like the wandering moon, may roam, Who knows not if her mountain love Be true or false, without a home, The mist below, the clouds above." The steward presently came out and the carriage was driven inside the gates, and was brought close to the entrance, while the rooms were hurriedly prepared for their reception. They alighted just as the mist was clearing away. This steward was in the habit of going to the mansion of Sadaijin, and was well acquainted with Genji. "Oh!" he exclaimed, as they entered. "Without proper attendants!" And approaching near to Genji said, "Shall I call in some more servants?" Genji replied at once and impressively, "I purposely chose a place where many people should not intrude. Don't trouble yourself, and be discreet." Rice broth was served up for their breakfast, but no regular meal had been prepared. The sun was now high in the heavens. Genji got up and opened the window. The gardens had been uncared for, and had run wild. The forest surrounding the mansion was dense and old, and the shrubberies were ravaged and torn by the autumn gales, and the bosom of the lake was hidden by rank weeds. The main part of the house had been for a long time uninhabited, except the servants' quarter, where there were only a few people living. "How fearful the place looks; but let no demon molest us," thought Genji, and endeavored to direct the girl's attention by fond and caressing conversation. And now he began, little by little, to throw off the mask, and told her who he was, and then began humming:-- "The flower that bloomed in evening's dew, Was the bright guide that led to you." She looked at him askance, replying:-- "The dew that on the Yûgao lay, Was a false guide and led astray." Thus a faint allusion was made to the circumstances which were the cause of their acquaintance, and it became known that the verse and the fan had been sent by her attendant mistaking Genji for her mistress's former lover. In the course of a few hours the girl became more at her ease, and later on in the afternoon Koremitz came and presented some fruits. The latter, however, stayed with them only a short time. The mansion gradually became very quiet, and the evening rapidly approached. The inner room was somewhat dark and gloomy. Yûgao was nervous; she was too nervous to remain there alone, and Genji therefore drew back the curtains to let the twilight in, staying there with her. Here the lovers remained, enjoying each other's sight and company, yet the more the evening advanced, the more timid and restless she became, so he quickly closed the casement, and she drew by degrees closer and closer to his side. At these moments he also became distracted and thoughtful. How the Emperor would be asking after him, and know not where he might be! What would the lady, the jealous lady, in the neighboring mansion think or say if she discovered their secret? How painful it would be if her jealous rage should flash forth on him! Such were the reflections which made him melancholy; and as his eyes fell upon the girl affectionately sitting beside him, ignorant of all these matters, he could not but feel a kind of pity for her. Night was now advancing, and they unconsciously dropped off to sleep, when suddenly over the pillow of Genji hovered the figure of a lady of threatening aspect. It said fiercely, "You faithless one, wandering astray with such a strange girl." And then the apparition tried to pull away the sleeping girl near him. Genji awoke much agitated. The lamp had burnt itself out. He drew his sword, and placed it beside him, and called aloud for Ukon, and she came to him also quite alarmed. "Do call up the servants and procure a light," said Genji. "How can I go, 'tis too dark," she replied, shaking with fear. "How childish!" he exclaimed, with a false laugh, and clapped his hands to call a servant. The sound echoed drearily through the empty rooms, but no servant came. At this moment he found the girl beside him was also strangely affected. Her brow was covered with great drops of cold perspiration, and she appeared rapidly sinking into a state of unconsciousness. "Ah! she is often troubled with the nightmare," said Ukon, "and perhaps this disturbs her now; but let us try and rouse her." "Yes, very likely," said Genji; "she was very much fatigued, and since noon her eyes have often been riveted upwards, like one suffering from some inward malady. I will go myself and call the servants"--he continued, "clapping one's hands is useless, besides it echoes fearfully. Do come here, Ukon, for a little while, and look after your mistress." So pulling Ukon near Yûgao, he advanced to the entrance of the saloon. He saw all was dark in the adjoining chambers. The wind was high, and blew gustily round the mansion. The few servants, consisting of a son of the steward, footman, and page, were all buried in profound slumber. Genji called to them loudly, and they awoke with a start. "Come," said he, "bring a light. Valet, twang your bow-string, and drive away the fiend. How can you sleep so soundly in such a place? But has Koremitz come?" "Sir, he came in the evening, but you had given no command, and so he went away, saying he would return in the morning," answered one. The one who gave this reply was an old knight, and he twanged his bow-strings vigorously, "Hiyôjin! hiyôjin!" (Be careful of the fire! be careful of the fire!) as he walked round the rooms. The mind of Genji instinctively reverted at this moment to the comfort of the palace. "At this hour of midnight," he thought, "the careful knights are patrolling round its walls. How different it is here!" He returned to the room he had left; it was still dark. He found Yûgao lying half dead and unconscious as before, and Ukon rendered helpless by fright. "What is the matter? What does it mean? What foolish fear is this?" exclaimed Genji, greatly alarmed. "Perhaps in lonely places like this the fox, for instance, might try to exercise his sorcery to alarm us, but I am here, there is no cause for fear," and he pulled Ukon's sleeve as he spoke, to arouse her. "I was so alarmed," she replied; "but my lady must be more so; pray attend to her." "Well," said Genji, and bending over his beloved, shook her gently, but she neither spoke nor moved. She had apparently fainted, and he became seriously alarmed. At this juncture the lights were brought. Genji threw a mantle over his mistress, and then called to the man to bring the light to him. The servant remained standing at a distance (according to etiquette), and would not approach. "Come near," exclaimed Genji, testily. "Do act according to circumstances," and taking the lamp from him threw its light full on the face of the lady, and gazed upon it anxiously, when at this very moment he beheld the apparition of the same woman he had seen before in his terrible dream, float before his eyes and vanish. "Ah!" he cried, "this is like the phantoms in old tales. What is the matter with the girl?" His own fears were all forgotten in his anxiety on her account. He leaned over and called upon her, but in vain. She answered not, and her glance was fixed. What was to be done? There was no one whom he could consult. The exorcisms of a priest, he thought, might do some good, but there was no priest. He tried to compose himself with all the resolution he could summon, but his anguish was too strong for his nerves. He threw himself beside her, and embracing her passionately, cried, "Come back! come back to me, my darling! Do not let us suffer such dreadful events." But she was gone; her soul had passed gently away. The story of the mysterious power of the demon, who had threatened a certain courtier possessed of considerable strength of mind, suddenly occurred to Genji, who thought self-possession was the only remedy in present circumstances, and recovering his composure a little, said to Ukon, "She cannot be dead! She shall not die yet!" He then called the servant, and told him. "Here is one who has been strangely frightened by a vision. Go to Koremitz and tell him to come at once; and if his brother, the priest, is there, ask him to come also. Tell them cautiously; don't alarm their mother." The midnight passed, and the wind blew louder, rushing amongst the branches of the old pines, and making them moan more and more sadly. The cries of strange weird birds were heard, probably the shrieks of the ill-omened screech-owl, and the place seemed more and more remote from all human sympathy. Genji could only helplessly repeat, "How could I have chosen such a retreat." While Ukon, quite dismayed, cried pitifully at his side. To him it seemed even that this girl might become ill, might die! The light of the lamp flickered and burnt dim. Each side of the walls seemed to his alarmed sight to present numberless openings one after another (where the demon might rush in), and the sound of mysterious footsteps seemed approaching along the deserted passages behind them. "Ah! were Koremitz but here," was the only thought of Genji; but it would seem that Koremitz was from home, and the time Genji had to wait for him seemed an age. At last the crowing cocks announced the coming day, and gave him new courage. He said to himself, "I must now admit this to be a punishment for all my inconsiderateness. However secretly we strive to conceal our faults, eventually they are discovered. First of all, what might not my father think! and then the general public? And what a subject for scandal the story of my escapades will become." Koremitz now arrived, and all at once the courage with which Genji had fought against calamity gave way, and he burst into tears, and then slowly spoke. "Here a sad and singular event has happened; I cannot explain to you why. For such sudden afflictions prayers, I believe, are the only resource. For this reason I wished your brother to accompany you here." "He returned to his monastery only yesterday," replied Koremitz. "But tell me what has happened; any unusual event to the girl?" "She is dead," returned Genji in a broken voice; "dead without any apparent cause." Koremitz, like the Prince, was but young. If he had had greater experience he would have been more serviceable to Genji; indeed, they both were equally perplexed to decide what were the best steps to be taken under the trying circumstances of the case. At last Koremitz said, "If the steward should learn this strange misfortune it might be awkward; as to the man himself he might be relied on, but his family, who probably would not be so discreet, might hear of the matter. It would, therefore, be better to quit this place at once." "But where can we find a spot where there are fewer observers than here?" replied Genji. "That is true. Suppose the old lodgings of the deceased. No, there are too many people there. I think a mountain convent would be better, because there they are accustomed to receive the dead within their walls, so that matters can be more easily concealed." And after a little reflection, he continued, "There is a nun whom I know living in a mountain convent in Higashi-Yama. Let us take the corpse there. She was my father's nurse; she is living there in strict seclusion. That is the best plan I can think of." This proposal was decided on, and the carriage was summoned. Presuming that Genji would not like to carry the dead body in his arms, Koremitz covered it with a mantle, and lifted it into the carriage. Over the features of the dead maiden a charming calmness was still spread, unlike what usually happens, there being nothing repulsive. Her wavy hair fell outside the mantle, and her small mouth, still parted, wore a faint smile. The sight distressed both the eyes and heart of Genji. He fain would have followed the body; but this Koremitz would not permit. "Do take my horse and ride back to Nijiô at once," he said, and ordered the horse for him. Then taking Ukon away in the same carriage with the dead, he, girding up his dress, followed it on foot. It was by no means a pleasant task for Koremitz, but he put up with it cheerfully. Genji, sunk in apathy, now rode back to Nijiô; he was greatly fatigued, and looked pale. The people of the mansion noticed his sad and haggard appearance. Genji said nothing, but hurried straight away to his own private apartment. "Why did I not go with her?" he still vainly exclaimed. "What would she think of me were she to return to life?" And these thoughts affected him so deeply that he became ill, his head ached, his pulse beat high, and his body burned with fever. The sun rose high, but he did not leave his couch. His domestics were all perplexed. Rice gruel was served up to him, but he would not touch it. The news of his indisposition soon found its way out of the mansion, and in no time a messenger arrived from the Imperial Palace to make inquiries. His brother-in-law also came, but Genji only allowed Tô-no-Chiûjiô to enter his room, saying to him, "My aged nurse has been ill since last May, and has been tonsured, and received consecration; it was, perhaps, from this sacrifice that at one time she became better, but lately she has had a relapse, and is again very bad. I was advised to visit her, moreover, she was always most kind to me, and if she had died without seeing me it would have pained her, so I went to see her. At this time a servant of her house, who had been ill, died suddenly. Being rendered 'unclean' by this event, I am passing the time privately. Besides, since the morning, I have become ill, evidently the effects of cold. By the bye, you must excuse me receiving you in this way." "Well, sir," replied Tô-no-Chiûjiô, "I will represent these circumstances to his Majesty. Your absence last night has given much inquietude to the Emperor. He caused inquiries to be made for you everywhere, and his humor was not very good." And thereupon Tô-no-Chiûjiô took his leave, thinking as he went, "What sort of 'uncleanness' can this really be. I cannot put perfect faith in what he tells me." Little did Tô-no-Chiûjiô imagine that the dead one was no other than his own long-lost Tokonatz (Pinks). In the evening came Koremitz from the mountain, and was secretly introduced, though all general visitors were kept excluded on the pretext of the "uncleanness." "What has become of her?" cried Genji, passionately, when he saw him. "Is she really gone?" "Her end has come," replied Koremitz, in a tone of sadness; "and we must not keep the dead too long. To-morrow we will place her in the grave: to-morrow 'is a good day.' I know a faithful old priest. I have consulted with him how to arrange all." "And what has become of Ukon?" asked Genji. "How does she bear it?" "That is, indeed, a question. She was really deeply affected, and she foolishly said, 'I will die with my mistress.' She was actually going to throw herself headlong from the cliff; but I warned, I advised, I consoled her, and she became more pacified." "The state of her feelings may be easily conceived. I am myself not less deeply wounded than she. I do not even know what might become of myself." "Why do you grieve so uselessly? Every uncertainty is the result of a certainty. There is nothing in this world really to be lamented. If you do not wish the public to know anything of this matter, I, Koremitz, will manage it." "I, also, am aware that everything is fated. Still, I am deeply sorry to have brought this misfortune on this poor girl by my own inconsiderate rashness. The only thing I have now to ask you, is to keep these events in the dark. Do not mention them to any one--nay, not even to your mother." "Even from the priests to whom it must necessarily be known, I will conceal the reality," replied Koremitz. "Do manage all this most skilfully!" "Why, of course I shall manage it as secretly as possible," cried Koremitz; and he was about to take his departure, but Genji stopped him. "I must see her once more," said Genji, sorrowfully. "I will go with you to behold her, before she is lost to my sight forever." And he insisted on accompanying him. Koremitz, however, did not at all approve of this project; but his resistance gave way to the earnest desire of Genji, and he said, "If you think so much about it, I cannot help it." "Let us hasten, then, and return before the night be far advanced." "You shall have my horse to ride." Genji rose, and dressed himself in the ordinary plain style he usually adopted for his private expeditions, and started away with one confidential servant, besides Koremitz. They crossed the river Kamo, the torches carried before them burning dimly. They passed the gloomy cemetery of Toribeno, and at last reached the convent. It was a rude wooden building, and adjoining was a small Buddha Hall, through whose walls votive tapers mysteriously twinkled. Within, nothing but the faint sound of a female's voice repeating prayers was to be heard. Outside, and around, the evening services in the surrounding temples were all finished, and all Nature was in silent repose. In the direction of Kiyomidz alone some scattered lights studding the dark scene betrayed human habitations. They entered. Genji's heart was beating fast with emotion. He saw Ukon reclining beside a screen, with her back to the lamp. He did not speak to her, but proceeded straight to the body, and gently drew aside the mantle which covered its face. It still wore a look of tranquil calmness; no change had yet attacked the features. He took the cold hand in his own, crying out as he did so:-- "Do let me hear thy voice once more! Why have you left me thus bereaved?" But the silence of death was unbroken! He then, half sobbing, began to talk with Ukon, and invited her to come to his mansion, and help to console him. But Koremitz now admonished him to consider that time was passing quickly. On this Genji threw a long sad farewell glance at the face of the dead, and rose to depart. He was so feeble and powerless that he could not mount his horse without the help of Koremitz. The countenance of the dead girl floated ever before his sight, with the look she wore when living, and it seemed as if he were being led on by some mysterious influence. The banks of the river Kamo were reached, when Genji found himself too weak to support himself on horseback, and so dismounted. "I am afraid," he exclaimed, "I shall not be able to reach home." Koremitz was a little alarmed. "If I had only been firm," he thought, "and had prevented this journey, I should not have exposed him to such a trial." He descended to the river, and bathing his hands,[58] offered up a prayer to Kwannon of Kiyomidz, and again assisted Genji to mount, who struggled to recover his energy, and managed somehow to return to Nijiô, praying in silence as he rode along. The people of the mansion entertained grave apprehensions about him; and not unnaturally, seeing he had been unusually restless for some days, and had become suddenly ill since the day before, and they could never understand what urgency had called him out on that evening. Genji now lay down on his couch, fatigued and exhausted, and continued in the same state for some days, when he became quite weak. The Emperor was greatly concerned, as was also Sadaijin. Numerous prayers were offered, and exorcisms performed everywhere in his behalf, all with the most careful zeal. The public was afraid he was too beautiful to live long. The only solace he had at this time was Ukon; he had sent for her, and made her stay in his mansion. And whenever he felt better he had her near him, and conversed with her about her dead mistress. In the meantime, it might have been the result of his own energetic efforts to realize the ardent hopes of the Emperor and his father-in-law, that his condition became better, after a heavy trial of some three weeks; and towards the end of September he became convalescent. He now felt as though he had been restored to the world to which he had formerly belonged. He was, however, still thin and weak, and, for consolation, still resorted to talk with Ukon. "How strange," he said to her, as they were conversing together one fine autumn evening. "Why did she not reveal to me all her past life? If she had but known how deeply I loved her, she might have been a little more frank with me." "Ah! no," replied Ukon; "she would not intentionally have concealed anything from you; but it was, I imagine, more because she had no choice. You at first conducted yourself in such a mysterious manner; and she, on her part, regarded her acquaintance with you as something like a dream. That was the cause of her reticence." "What a useless reticence it was," exclaimed Genji. "I was not so frank as, perhaps, I ought to have been; but you may be sure that made no difference in my affection towards her. Only, you must remember, there is my father, the Emperor, besides many others, whose vigilant admonitions I am bound to respect. That was the reason why I had to be careful. Nevertheless, my love to your mistress was singularly deep; too deep, perhaps, to last long. Do tell me now all you know about her; I do not see any reason why you should conceal it. I have carefully ordered the weekly requiem for the dead; but tell me in whose behalf it is, and what was her origin?" "I have no intention of concealing anything from you. Why should I? I only thought it would be blamable if one should reveal after death what another had thought best to reserve," replied Ukon. "Her parents died when she was a mere girl. Her father was called Sammi-Chiûjiô, and loved her very dearly. He was always aspiring to better his position, and wore out his life in the struggle. After his death, she was left helpless and poor. She was however, by chance, introduced to Tô-no-Chiûjiô, when he was still Shiôshiô, and not Chiûjiô. During three years they kept on very good terms, and he was very kind to her. But some wind or other attacks every fair flower; and, in the autumn of last year, she received a fearful menace from the house of Udaijin, to whose daughter, as you know, Tô-no-Chiûjiô is married. Poor girl, she was terrified at this. She knew not what to do, and hid herself, with her nurse, in an obscure part of the capital. It was not a very agreeable place, and she was about removing to a certain mountain hamlet, but, as its 'celestial direction' was closed this year, she was still hesitating, and while matters were in this state, you appeared on the scene. To do her justice, she had no thought of wandering from one to another; but circumstances often make things appear as if we did so. She was, by nature, extremely reserved, so that she did not like to speak out her feelings to others, but rather suffered in silence by herself. This, perhaps, you also have noticed." "Then it was so, after all. She was the Tokonatz of Tô-no-Chiûjiô," thought Genji; and now it also transpired that all that Koremitz had stated about Tô-no-Chiûjiô's visiting her at the Yûgao house was a pure invention, suggested by a slight acquaintance with the girl's previous history. "The Chiûjiô told me once," said Genji, "that she had a little one. Was there any such?" "Yes, she had one in the spring of the year before last--a girl, a nice child," replied Ukon. "Where is she now?" asked Genji, "perhaps you will bring her to me some day. I should like to have her with me as a memento of her mother. I should not mind mentioning it to her father, but if I did so, I must reveal the whole sad story of her mother's fate, and this would not be advisable at present; however, I do not see any harm if I were to bring her up as my daughter. You might manage it somehow without my name being mentioned to any one concerned." "That would be a great happiness for the child," exclaimed Ukon, delighted, "I do not much appreciate her being brought up where she is." "Well, I will do so, only let us wait for some better chance. For the present be discreet." "Yes, of course. I cannot yet take any steps towards that object; we must not unfurl our sails before the storm is completely over." The foliage of the ground, touched with autumnal tints, was beginning to fade, and the sounds of insects (_mushi_) were growing faint, and both Genji and Ukon were absorbed by the sad charm of the scene. As they meditated, they heard doves cooing among the bamboo woods. To Genji it brought back the cries of that strange bird, which cry he had heard on that fearful night in Rokjiô, and the subject recurred to his mind once more, and he said to Ukon, "How old was she?" "Nineteen." "And how came you to know her?" "I was the daughter of her first nurse, and a great favorite of her father's, who brought me up with her, and from that time I never left her. When I come to think of those days I wonder how I can exist without her. The poet says truly, 'The deeper the love, the more bitter the parting.' Ah! how gentle and retiring she was. How much I loved her!" "That retiring and gentle temperament," said Genji, "gives far greater beauty to women than all beside, for to have no natural pliability makes women utterly worthless." The sky by this time became covered, and the wind blew chilly. Genji gazed intently on it and hummed:-- "When we regard the clouds above, Our souls are filled with fond desire, To me the smoke of my dead love, Seems rising from the funeral pyre." The distant sound of the bleacher's hammer reached their ears, and reminded him of the sound he had heard in the Yûgao's house. He bade "Good-night" to Ukon, and retired to rest, humming as he went:-- "In the long nights of August and September." On the forty-ninth day (after the death of the Yûgao) he went to the Hokke Hall in the Hiye mountain, and there had a service for the dead performed, with full ceremony and rich offerings. The monk-brother of Koremitz took every pains in its performance. The composition of requiem prayers was made by Genji himself, and revised by a professor of literature, one of his intimate friends. He expressed in it the melancholy sentiment about the death of one whom he had dearly loved, and whom he had yielded to Buddha. But who she was was not stated. Among the offerings there was a dress. He took it up in his hands and sorrowfully murmured, "With tears to-day, the dress she wore I fold together, when shall I Bright Elysium's far-off shore This robe of hers again untie?" And the thought that the soul of the deceased might be still wandering and unsettled to that very day, but that now the time had come when her final destiny would be decided,[59] made him pray for her more fervently. So closed the sad event of Yûgao. Now Genji was always thinking that he should wish to see his beloved in a dream. The evening after his visit to the Hokke Hall, he beheld her in his slumbers, as he wished, but at the same moment the terrible face of the woman that he had seen on that fearful evening in Rokjiô again appeared before him; hence he concluded that the same mysterious being who tenanted that dreary mansion had taken advantage of his fears and had destroyed his beloved Yûgao. A few words more about the house in which she had lived. After her flight no communication had been sent to them even by Ukon, and they had no idea of where she had gone to. The mistress of the house was a daughter of the nurse of Yûgao. She with her two sisters lived there. Ukon was a stranger to them, and they imagined that her being so was the reason of her sending no intelligence to them. True they had entertained some suspicions about the gay Prince, and pressed Koremitz to confide the truth to them, but the latter, as he had done before, kept himself skilfully aloof. They then thought she might have been seduced and carried off by some gallant son of a local Governor, who feared his intrigue might be discovered by Tô-no-Chiûjiô. During these days Kokimi, of Ki-no-Kami's house, still used to come occasionally to Genji. But for some time past the latter had not sent any letter to Cicada. When she heard of his illness she not unnaturally felt for him, and also she had experienced a sort of disappointment in not seeing his writing for some time, especially as the time of her departure for the country was approaching. She therefore sent him a letter of inquiry with the following:-- "If long time passes slow away, Without a word from absent friend, Our fears no longer brook delay, But must some kindly greeting send." To this letter Genji returned a kind answer and also the following:-- "This world to me did once appear Like Cicada's shell, when cast away, Till words addressed by one so dear, Have taught my hopes a brighter day." This was written with a trembling hand, but still bearing nice traits, and when it reached Cicada, and she saw that he had not yet forgotten past events, and the scarf he had carried away, she was partly amused and partly pleased. It was about this time that the daughter of Iyo-no-Kami was engaged to a certain Kurando Shiôshiô, and he was her frequent visitor. Genji heard of this, and without any intention of rivalry, sent her the following by Kokimi:-- "Like the green reed that grows on high By river's brink, our love has been, And still my wandering thoughts will fly Back to that quickly passing scene." She was a little flattered by it, and gave Kokimi a reply, as follows:-- "The slender reed that feels the wind That faintly stirs its humble leaf, Feels that too late it breathes its mind, And only wakes, a useless grief." Now the departure of Iyo-no-Kami was fixed for the beginning of October. Genji sent several parting presents to his wife, and in addition to these some others, consisting of beautiful combs, fans, _nusa_,[60] and the scarf he had carried away, along with the following, privately through Kokimi:-- "I kept this pretty souvenir In hopes of meeting you again, I send it back with many a tear, Since now, alas! such hope is vain." There were many other minute details, which I shall pass over as uninteresting to the reader. Genji's official messenger returned, but her reply about the scarf was sent through Kokimi:-- "When I behold the summer wings Cicada like, I cast aside; Back to my heart fond memory springs, And on my eyes, a rising tide." The day of the departure happened to be the commencement of the winter season. An October shower fell lightly, and the sky looked gloomy. Genji stood gazing upon it and hummed:-- "Sad and weary Autumn hours, Summer joys now past away, Both departing, dark the hours, Whither speeding, who can say?" All these intrigues were safely kept in strict privacy, and to have boldly written all particulars concerning them is to me a matter of pain. So at first I intended to omit them, but had I done so my history would have become like a fiction, and the censure I should expect would be that I had done so intentionally, because my hero was the son of an Emperor; but, on the other hand, if I am accused of too much loquacity, I cannot help it. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 52: Name of an ecclesiastical office.] [Footnote 53: Sasinuki is a sort of loose trousers, and properly worn by men only, hence some commentators conclude, the attendant here mentioned to mean a boy, others contend, this garment was worn by females also when they rode.] [Footnote 54: A mythological repulsive deity who took part in the building of a bridge at the command of a powerful magician.] [Footnote 55: A popular superstition in China and Japan believes foxes to have mysterious powers over men.] [Footnote 56: Upasaka, a sect of the followers of Buddhism who are laymen though they observe the rules of clerical life.] [Footnote 57: Meitreya, a Buddhisatva destined to reappear as a Buddha after the lapse of an incalculable series of years.] [Footnote 58: It is the Oriental custom that when one offers up a prayer, he first washes his hands, to free them from all impurity.] [Footnote 59: According to the Buddhist's doctrine of the Hosso sect, all the souls of the dead pass, during seven weeks after death, into an intermediate state, and then their fate is decided. According to the Tendai sect, the best and the worst go immediately where they deserve, but those of a medium nature go through this process.] [Footnote 60: An offering made of paper, to the God of roads, which travellers were accustomed to make, before setting out on a journey.] CHAPTER V YOUNG VIOLET It was the time when Genji became subject to periodical attacks of ague, that many exorcisms and spells were performed to effect a cure, but all in vain. At length he was told by a friend that in a certain temple on the northern mountain (Mount Kurama) there dwelt a famous ascetic, and that when the epidemic had prevailed during the previous summer, many people had recovered through his exorcisms. "If," added the friend, "the disease is neglected it becomes serious; try therefore, this method of procuring relief at once, and before it is too late." Genji, therefore, sent for the hermit, but he declined to come, saying that he was too old and decrepit to leave his retreat. "What shall I do?" exclaimed Genji, "shall I visit him privately?" Eventually, taking four or five attendants, he started off early one morning for the place, which was at no great distance on the mountain. It was the last day of March, and though the height of the season for flowers in the capital was over, yet, on the mountain, the cherry-trees were still in blossom. They advanced on their way further and further. The haze clung to the surface like a soft sash does round the waist, and to Genji, who had scarcely ever been out of the capital, the scenery was indescribably novel. The ascetic lived in a deep cave in the rocks, near the lofty summit. Genji did not, however, declare who he was, and the style of his retinue was of a very private character. Yet his nobility of manners was easily recognizable. "Welcome your visit!" cried the hermit, saluting him. "Perhaps you are the one who sent for me the other day? I have long since quitted the affairs of this world, and have almost forgotten the secret of my exorcisms. I wonder why you have come here for me." So saying, he pleasingly embraced him. He was evidently a man of great holiness. He wrote out a talismanic prescription, which he gave to Genji to drink in water, while he himself proceeded to perform some mysterious rite. During the performance of this ceremony the sun rose high in the heavens. Genji, meantime, walked out of the cave and looked around him with his attendants. The spot where they stood was very lofty, and numerous monasteries were visible, scattered here and there in the distance beneath. There was immediately beyond the winding path in which they were walking a picturesque and pretty building enclosed by hedges. Its well arranged balconies and the gardens around it apparently betokened the good taste of its inhabitants. "Whose house may that be?" inquired Genji of his attendants. They told him it was a house in which a certain priest had been living for the last two years. "Ah! I know him," said Genji. "Strange, indeed, would it be if he were to discover that I am here in this privacy." They noticed a nun and a few more females with her walking in the garden, who were carrying fresh water for their offerings, and were gathering flowers. "Ah! there are ladies walking there," cried the attendants in tones of surprise. "Surely, the Reverend Father would not indulge in flirtations! Who can they be?" And some of them even descended a little distance, and peered over the enclosure, where a pretty little girl was also seen amongst them. Genji now engaged in prayer until the sun sank in the heavens. His attendants, who were anxious about his disease, told him that it would be good for him to have a change from time to time. Hereupon, he advanced to the back of the temple, and his gaze fell on the far-off Capital in the distance, which was enveloped in haze as the dusk was setting in, over the tops of the trees around. "What a lovely landscape!" exclaimed Genji. "The people to whom such scenery is familiar, are perhaps happy and contented." "Nay," said the attendants, "but were you to see the beautiful mountain ranges and the sea-coast in our various provinces, the pictures would indeed be found lovely." Then some of them described to him Fuji Yama, while others told him of other mountains, diverting his attention by their animated description of the beautiful bays and coasts of the Western Provinces; thus as they depicted them to him, they cheered and gladdened his mind. One of them went on to say: "Among such sights and at no great distance, there is the sea-coast of Akashi, in the Province of Harima, which is, I think, especially beautiful. I cannot, indeed, point out in detail its most remarkable features, but, in general, the blue expanse of the sea is singularly charming. Here, too, the home of the former Governor of the Province constitutes an object of great attraction. He has assumed the tonsure, and resides there with his beautiful daughter. He is the descendant of a high personage, and was not without hope of elevation at Court, but, being of an eccentric character, he was strongly averse to society. He had formerly been a Chiûjiô of the Imperial Guard, but having resigned that office, had become Governor of Harima. He was not, however, popular in that office. In this state of affairs he reflected within himself, no doubt, that his presence in the Capital could not but be disagreeable. When, therefore, his term of office expired, he determined still to remain in the province. He did not, however, go to the mountainous regions of the interior, but chose the sea-coast. There are in this district several places which are well situated for quiet retirement, and it would have seemed inconsistent in him had he preferred a part of the sea-coast so near the gay world; nevertheless, a retreat in the too remote interior would have been too solitary, and might have met with objections on the part of his wife and child. For this reason, it appears, that he finally selected the place which I have already alluded to for the sake of his family. When I went down there last time, I became acquainted with the history and circumstances of the family, and I found that though he may not have been well received in the Capital, yet, that here, having been formerly governor, he enjoys considerable popularity and respect. His residence, moreover, is well appointed and of sufficient magnitude, and he performs with punctuality and devoutness his religious duties--nay, almost with more earnestness than many regular priests." Here Genji interrupted. "What is his daughter like?" "Without doubt," answered his companion, "the beauty of her person is unrivalled, and she is endowed with corresponding mental ability. Successive governors often offer their addresses to her with great sincerity, but no one has ever yet been accepted. The dominant idea of her father seems to be this: 'What, have I sunk to such a position! Well, I trust, at least, that my only daughter may be successful and prosperous in her life!' He often told her, I heard, that if she survived him, and if his fond hopes for her should not be realized, it would be better for her to cast herself into the sea." Genji was much interested in this conversation, and the rest of the company laughingly said, "Ah! she is a woman who is likely to become the Queen of the Blue Main. In very truth her father must be an extraordinary being!" The attendant who had given this account of the ex-governor and his daughter, was the son of the present Governor of the Province. He was until lately a Kurand, and this year had received the title of Jugoi. His name was Yoshikiyo, and he, too, was a man of gay habits, which gave occasion to one of his companions to observe: "Ah! perhaps you also have been trying to disappoint the hopes of the aged father." Another said, "Well, our friend has given us a long account, but we must take it with some reserve. She must be, after all, a country maiden, and all that I can give credit to is this much: that her mother may be a woman of some sense, who takes great care of the girl. I am only afraid that if any future governor should be seized with an ardent desire to possess her, she would not long remain unattached." "What possible object could it serve if she were carried to the bottom of the sea? The natives of the deep would derive no pleasure from her charms," remarked Genji, while he himself secretly desired to behold her. "Ay," thought his companions, "with his susceptible temperament, what wonder if this story touches him." The day was far advanced, and the Prince prepared to leave the mountain. The Hermit, however, told him that it would be better to spend the evening in the Temple, and to be further prayed for. His attendants also supported this suggestion. So Genji made up his mind to stay there, saying, "Then I shall not return home till to-morrow." The days at this season were of long duration, and he felt it rather tiresome to pass a whole evening in sedate society, so, under the cover of the shades of the evening, he went out of the Temple, and proceeded to the pretty building enclosed by hedges. All the attendants had been despatched home except Koremitz, who accompanied him. They peeped at this building through the hedges. In the western antechamber of the house was placed an image of Buddha, and here an evening service was performed. A nun, raising a curtain before Buddha, offered a garland of flowers on the altar, and placing a Kiô (or Sutra, i.e., Buddhist Bible) on her "arm-stool," proceeded to read it. She seemed to be rather more than forty years old. Her face was rather round, and her appearance was noble. Her hair was thrown back from her forehead and was cut short behind, which suited her very well. She was, however, pale and weak, her voice, also, being tremulous. Two maiden attendants went in and out of the room waiting upon her, and a little girl ran into the room with them. She was about ten years old or more, and wore a white silk dress, which fitted her well and which was lined with yellow. Her hair was waved like a fan, and her eyes were red from crying. "What is the matter? Have you quarrelled with the boy?" exclaimed the nun, looking at her. There was some resemblance between the features of the child and the nun, so Genji thought that she possibly might be her daughter. "Inuki has lost my sparrow, which I kept so carefully in the cage," replied the child. "That stupid boy," said one of the attendants. "Has he again been the cause of this? Where can the bird be gone? And all this, too, after we had tamed it with so much care." She then left the room, possibly to look for the lost bird. The people who addressed her called her Shiônagon, and she appeared to have been the little girl's nurse. "To you," said the nun to the girl, "the sparrow may be dearer than I may be, who am so ill; but have I not told you often that the caging of birds is a sin? Be a good girl; come nearer!" The girl advanced and stood silent before her, her face being bathed in tears. The contour of the child-like forehead and of the small and graceful head was very pleasing. Genji, as he surveyed the scene from without, thought within himself, "If she is thus fair in her girlhood, what will she be when she is grown up?" One reason why Genji was so much attracted by her was, that she greatly resembled a certain lady in the Palace, to whom he, for a long time, had been fondly attached. The nun stroked the beautiful hair of the child and murmured to herself, "How splendid it looks! Would that she would always strive to keep it thus. Her extreme youth makes me anxious, however. Her mother departed this life when she only a very young girl, but she was quite sensible at the age of this one. Supposing that I were to leave her behind, I wonder what would happen to her!" As she thus murmured, her countenance became saddened by her forebodings. The sight moved Genji's sympathy as he gazed. It seemed that the tender heart of the child was also touched, for she silently watched the expression of the nun's features, and then with downcast eyes bent her face towards the ground, the lustrous hair falling over her back in waves. The nun hummed, in a tone sufficiently audible to Genji, "The dews that wet the tender grass, At the sun's birth, too quickly pass, Nor e'er can hope to see it rise In full perfection to the skies." Shiônagon, who now joined them, and heard the above distich, consoled the nun with the following:-- "The dews will not so quickly pass, Nor shall depart before they see The full perfection of the grass, They loved so well in infancy." At this juncture a priest entered and said, "Do you know that this very day Prince Genji visited the hermit in order to be exorcised by him. I must forthwith go and see him." Genji observing this movement quickly returned to the monastery, thinking as he went what a lovely girl he had seen. "I can guess from this," thought he, "why those gay fellows (referring to his attendants) so often make their expeditions in search of good fortune. What a charming little girl have I seen to-day! Who can she be? Would that I could see her morning and evening in the palace, where I can no longer see the fair loved one whom she resembles!" He now returned to the monastery, and retired to his quarters. Soon after a disciple of the priest came and delivered a message from him through Koremitz, saying, "My master has just heard of the Prince's visit to the mountain, and would have waited on him at once, but thought it better to postpone calling. Nevertheless he would be much pleased to offer a humble welcome, and feels disappointed that he has not yet had an opportunity of doing so." Genji said in reply, "I have been afflicted with constant attacks of ague for the last few weeks, and, therefore, by the advice of my friends, I came to this mountain to be exorcised. If, however, the spells of the holy man are of no avail to me, his reputation might suffer in consequence. For that reason I wish to keep my visit as private as possible, nevertheless I will come now to your master." Thereupon the priest himself soon made his appearance, and, after briefly relating the circumstances which had occasioned his retirement to this locality, he offered to escort Genji to his house, saying, "My dwelling is but a rustic cottage, but still I should like you to see, at least, the pretty mountain streamlet which waters my garden." Genji accepted the offer, thinking as he went, "I wonder what the priest has said at home about myself to those to whom I have not yet been introduced. But it will be pleasant to see them once more." The night was moonless. The fountain was lit up by torches, and many lamps also were lighted in the garden. Genji was taken to an airy room in the southern front of the building, where incense which was burning threw its sweet odors around. The priest related to him many interesting anecdotes, and also spoke eloquently of man's future destiny. Genji as he heard him, felt some qualms of conscience, for he remembered that his own conduct was far from being irreproachable. The thought troubled him that he would never be free from the sting of these recollections through his life, and that there was a world to come, too! "Oh, could I but live in a retreat like this priest!" As he thus thought of a retreat, he was involuntarily taken by a fancy, that how happy would he be if accompanied to such a retreat by such a girl as he had seen in the evening, and with this fancy her lovely face rose up before him. Suddenly he said to the priest, "I had once a dream which made me anxious to know who was living in this house, and here to-day that dream has again come back to my memory!" The priest laughed, and said, "A strange dream! even were you to obtain your wish it might not gratify you. The late Lord Azechi Dainagon died long ago, and perhaps you know nothing about him. Well! his widow is my sister, and since her husband's death her health has not been satisfactory, so lately she has been living here in retirement." "Ah, yes," said Genji, venturing upon a guess, "and I heard that she bore a daughter to Dainagon." "Yes, she had a daughter, but she died about ten years ago. After her father's death the sole care of her fell upon her widowed mother alone. I know not how it came to pass, but she became secretly intimate with Prince Hiôbkiô. But the Prince's wife was very jealous and severe, so she had much to suffer and put up with. I saw personally the truth that 'care kills more than labor.'" "Ah, then," thought Genji, "the little one is her daughter, and no wonder that she resembles the one in the palace (because Prince Hiôbkiô was the brother of the Princess Wistaria). How would it be if I had free control over her, and had her brought up and educated according to my own notions?" So thinking, he proceeded to say how sad it was that she died! "Did she leave any offspring?" "She gave birth to a child at her death, which was also a girl, and about this girl the grandmother is always feeling very anxious." "Then," said Genji, "let it not appear strange to you if I say this, but I should be very happy to become the guardian of this girl. Will you speak to her grandmother about it? It is true that there is one to whom my lot is linked, but I care but little for her, and indeed usually lead a solitary life." "Your offer is very kind," replied the priest, "but she is extremely young. However every woman grows up under the protecting care of some one, and so I cannot say much about her, only it shall be mentioned to my sister." The priest said this with a grave and even a stern expression on his countenance, which caused Genji to drop the subject. He then asked the Prince to excuse him, for it was the hour for vespers, and as he quitted the room to attend the service, said he would return as soon as it was finished. Genji was alone. A slight shower fell over the surrounding country, and the mountain breezes blew cool. The waters of the torrent were swollen, and the roar of them might be heard from afar. Broken and indistinct, one might hear the melancholy sound of the sleepy intonation of prayers. Even those people who have no sorrow of their own often feel melancholy from the circumstances in which they are placed. So Genji, whose mind was occupied in thought, could not slumber here. The priest said he was going to vespers, but in reality it was later than the proper time for them. Genji perceived that the inmates had not yet retired to rest in the inner apartments of the house. They were very quiet, yet the sound of the telling of beads, which accidentally struck the lectern, was heard from time to time. The room was not far from his own. He pulled the screen slightly aside, and standing near the door, he struck his fan on his hand, to summon some one. "What can be the matter," said an attendant, and as she came near to the Prince's room she added, "Perhaps my ear was deceived," and she began to retire. "Buddha will guide you; fear not the darkness, I am here," said Genji. "Sir!" replied the servant, timidly. "Pray do not think me presumptuous," said Genji; "but may I beg you to transmit this poetical effusion to your mistress for me? Since first that tender grass I viewed, My heart no soft repose e'er feels, But gathering mist my sleeve bedews, And pity to my bosom steals." "Surely you should know, sir, that there is no one here to whom such things can be presented!" "Believe me, I have my own reasons for this," said Genji. "Let me beseech you to take it." So the attendant went back, and presented it to the nun. "I do not see the real intent of the effusion," thought the nun. "Perhaps he thinks that she is already a woman. But"--she continued, wonderingly--"how could he have known about the young grass?" And she then remained silent for a while. At last, thinking it would be unbecoming to take no notice of it, she gave orally the following reply to the attendant to be given to Genji:-- "You say your sleeve is wet with dew, 'Tis but one night alone for you, But there's a mountain moss grows nigh, Whose leaves from dew are never dry." When Genji heard this, he said: "I am not accustomed to receive an answer such as this through the mouth of a third person. Although I thank the lady for even that much, I should feel more obliged to her if she would grant me an interview, and allow me to explain to her my sincere wishes." This at length obliged the nun to have an interview with the Prince. He then told her that he called Buddha to witness that, though his conduct may have seemed bold, it was dictated by pure and conscientious motives. "All the circumstances of your family history are known to me," continued he. "Look upon me, I pray, as a substitute for your once loved daughter. I, too, when a mere infant, was deprived by death of my best friend--my mother--and the years and months which then rolled by were fraught with trouble to me. In that same position your little one is now. Allow us, then, to become friends. We could sympathize with each other. 'Twas to reveal these wishes to you that I came here, and risked the chance of offending you in doing so." "Believe me, I am well disposed at your offer," said the nun; "but you may have been incorrectly informed. It is true that there is a little girl dependent upon myself, but she is but a child. Her society could not afford you any pleasure; and forgive me, therefore, if I decline your request." "Yet let there be no reserve in the expression of your ideas," interrupted Genji; but, before they could talk further, the return of the priest put an end to the subject, and Genji retired to his quarters, after thanking the nun for his kind reception. The night passed away, and dawn appeared. The sky was again hazy, and here and there melodious birds were singing among the mountain shrubs and flowers that blossomed around. The deer, too, which were to be seen here, added to the beauty of the picture. Gazing around at these Genji once more proceeded to the temple. The hermit--though too infirm to walk--again contrived to offer up his prayers on Genji's behalf, and he also read from the Darani.[61] The tremulous accents of the old man--poured forth from his nearly toothless mouth--imparted a greater reverence to his prayers. Genji's attendants now arrived from the capital, and congratulated him on the improvement in his health. A messenger was despatched from the Imperial Palace for the same purpose. The priest now collected wild and rare fruits, not to be met with in the distant town, and, with all respect, presented them to Genji, saying: "The term of my vow has not yet expired; and I am, therefore, sorry to say that I am unable to descend the mountain with you on your departure." He then offered to him the parting cup of _saké_. "This mountain, with its waters, fill me with admiration," said Genji, "and I regret that the anxiety of my father the Emperor obliges me to quit the charming scene; but before the season is past, I will revisit it: and-- The city's folk from me shall hear How mountain cherries blossom fair, And ere the Spring has passed away, I'll bid them view the prospect gay." To this the priest replied-- "Your noble presence seems to me Like the rare flowers of Udon tree,[62] Nor does the mountain cherry white, Attract my gaze while you're in sight." Genji smiled slightly, and said: "That is a very great compliment; but the Udon tree does not blossom so easily." The hermit also raised the cup to his lips, and said:-- "Opening my lonely hermit's door, Enclosed around by mountain pine, A blossom never seen before My eyes behold that seems divine." And he presented to him his _toko_ (a small ecclesiastical wand). On seeing this, the priest also made him the following presents:--A rosary of Kongôji (a kind of precious stone), which the sage Prince Shôtok obtained from Corea, enclosed in the original case in which it had been sent from that country; some medicine of rare virtue in a small emerald jar; and several other objects, with a spray of Wistaria, and a branch of cherry blossoms. Genji, too, on the other hand, made presents, which he had ordered from the capital, to the hermit and his disciples who had taken part in the religious ceremonies, and also to the poor mountaineers. He also sent the following to the nun, by the priest's page:-- "In yester-eve's uncertain light, A flower I saw so young and bright, But like a morning mist. Now pain Impels me yet to see again." A reply from the nun was speedily brought to him, which ran thus:-- "You say you feel, perhaps 'tis true, A pang to leave these mountain bowers, For sweet the blossoms, sweet the view, To strangers' eyes of mountain flowers." While this was being presented to him in his carriage, a few more people came, as if accidentally, to wait upon him on his journey. Among them was Tô-no-Chiûjiô, and his brother Ben, who said: "We are always pleased to follow you; it was unkind of you to leave us behind." Just as the party were on the point of starting, some of them observed that it was a pity to leave so lovely a spot without resting awhile among the flowers. This was immediately agreed to, and they took their seats on a moss-grown rock, a short distance from which a little streamlet descended in a murmuring cascade. They there began to drink _saké_, and Tô-no-Chiûjiô taking his flute, evoked from it a rich and melodious strain; while Ben, tapping his fan in concert, sang "The Temple of Toyora," while the Prince, as he leaned against a rock, presented a picturesque appearance, though he was pale and thin. Among the attendants was one who blew on a long flute, called Hichiriki, and another on a Shiô flute. The priest brought a _koto_, and begged Genji to perform upon it, saying: "If we are to have music at all, let us have a harmonious concert." Genji said that he was no master of music; but, nevertheless, he played, with fair ability, a pleasing air. Then they all rose up, and departed. After they had quitted the mountain, Genji first of all went to the Palace, where he immediately had an interview with the Emperor, who considered his son to be still weak in health; and who asked him several questions with regard to the efficacy of the prayers of the reverend hermit. Genji gave him all particulars of his visit to the mountain. "Ah!" said the Emperor, "he may some day be entitled to become a dean (Azali). His virtue and holiness have not yet been duly appreciated by the government and the nation." Sadaijin, the father-in-law of the Prince, here entered, and entreated Genji to accompany him to his mansion, and spend a few days. Genji did not feel very anxious to accept this invitation, but was persuaded to do so. Sadaijin conveyed him in his own carriage, and gave up to him the seat of honor. They arrived; but, as usual, his bride did not appear, and only presented herself at last at the earnest request of her father. She was one of those model princesses whom one may see in a picture--very formal and very sedate--and it was very difficult to draw her into conversation. She was very uninteresting to Genji. He thought that it would only lead to a very unpleasant state of affairs, as years grew on, if they were to be as cool and reserved to each other as they had been hitherto. Turning to her, he said, with some reproachfulness in his accents, "Surely you should sometimes show me a little of the ordinary affection of people in our position!" She made no reply; but, glancing coolly upon him, murmured with modest, yet dignified, tone-- "When you cease to care for me, What can I then do for thee?" "Your words are few; but they have a sting in them. You say I cease to care for you; but you do me wrong in saying so. May the time come when you will no longer pain me thus," said Genji; and he made every effort to conciliate her. But she was not easily appeased. He was unsuccessful in his effort, and presently they retired to their apartment, where he soon relapsed into sleepy indifference. His thoughts began to wander back into other regions, and hopes of the future growth and charms of the young mountain-violet again occupied his mind. "Oh! how difficult it is to secure a prize," thought he. "How can I do so? Her father, Prince Hiôbkiô, is a man of rank, and affable, but he is not of prepossessing appearance. Why does his daughter resemble so much, in her personal attractions, the lovely one in the chamber of Wistaria. Is it that the mother of her father and of Wistaria is the same person? How charming is the resemblance between them! How can I make her mine?" Some days afterwards he sent a letter to the mountain home, and also a communication--perhaps with some hint in it--to the priest. In his letter to the nun he said that her indifference made it desirable to refrain from urging his wishes; but, nevertheless, that he should be deeply gratified if she would think more favorably of the idea which was now so deeply rooted in his mind. Inside the letter he enclosed a small folded slip of paper, on which was written:-- "The mountain flower I left behind I strive but vainly to forget, Those lovely traits still rise to mind And fill my heart with sad regret." This ludicrous effusion caused the nun to be partly amused and partly vexed. She wrote an answer as follows:-- "When you came into our neighborhood your visit was very pleasing to us, and your special message does us honor. I am, however, at a loss how to express myself with regard to the little one, as yet she cannot even manage the naniwadz."[63] Enclosed in the note were the following lines, in which she hinted as to her doubts of the steadfastness of Genji's character: "Your heart admires the lowly flower That dwells within our mountain bower. Not long, alas! that flower may last Torn by the mountain's angry blast." The tenor of the priest's answer was much the same, and it caused Genji some vexation. About this time the Lady Wistaria, in consequence of an attack of illness, had retired from the palace to her private residence, and Genji, while sympathizing with the anxiety of the Emperor about her, longed greatly for an opportunity of seeing her, ill though she was. Hence at this time he went nowhere, but kept himself in his mansion at Nijiô, and became thoughtful and preoccupied. At length he endeavored to cajole Ô Miôbu, Wistaria's attendant, into arranging an opportunity for him to see her. On Wistaria's part there were strong doubts as to the propriety of complying with his request, but at last the earnestness of the Prince overcame her scruples, and Ô Miôbu managed eventually to bring about a meeting between them.[64] Genji gave vent to his feelings to the Princess, as follows:-- "Though now we meet, and not again We e'er may meet, I seem As though to die, I were full fain Lost in this blissful dream." Then the Princess replied to him, full of sadness:-- "We might dream on but fear the name, The envious world to us may give, Forgetful of the darkened fame, That lives when we no longer live." For some time after this meeting had taken place, Genji found himself too timid to appear at his father's palace, and remained in his mansion. The Princess, too, experienced a strong feeling of remorse. She had, moreover, a cause of anxiety special in its nature and peculiar to herself as a woman, for which she alone felt some uneasiness of conscience. Three months of the summer had passed away, and her secret began to betray itself externally. The Emperor was naturally anxious about the health of his favorite, and kind inquiries were sent from time to time to her. But the kinder he was to her the more conscience-stricken she felt. Genji at this time was often visited by strange dreams. When he consulted a diviner about them, he was told that something remarkable and extraordinary might happen to him, and that it behooved him to be cautious and prudent. "Here is a pretty source of embarrassment," thought Genji. He cautioned the diviner to be discreet about it, especially because he said the dreams were not his own but another person's. When at last he heard authentically about the condition of the Princess, he was extremely anxious to communicate with her, but she now peremptorily objected to any kind of correspondence between them, and Ô Miôbu too refused any longer to assist him. In July Wistaria returned to the palace. There she was received by the Emperor with great rejoicing, and he thought that her condition did but add to her attractiveness. It was now autumn, the season when agreeable receptions were often held by the Emperor in Court, and it was awkward when Genji and the Princess happened to face each other on these occasions, as neither of them could be free from their tender recollections. During these autumn evenings the thoughts of Genji were often directed to the granddaughter of the nun, especially because she resembled the Princess so much. His desire to possess her was considerably increased, and the recollection of the first evening when he heard the nun intoning to herself the verses about the tender grass, recurred to his mind. "What," thought he, "if I pluck this tender grass, would it then be, would it then grow up, as fair as now." "When will be mine this lovely flower Of tender grace and purple hue? Like the Wistaria of the bower, Its charms are lovely to my view." The Emperor's visit to the Palace Suzak-in was now announced to take place in October, and dancers and musicians were selected from among the young nobles who were accomplished in these arts, and Royal Princes and officers of State were fully engaged in preparation for the _fête_. After the Royal festivities, a separate account of which will be given hereafter, he sent again a letter to the mountain. The answer, however, came only from the priest, who said that his sister had died on the twentieth day of the last month; and added that though death is inevitable to all of us, still he painfully felt her loss. Genji pondered first on the precariousness of human life, and then thought how that little one who had depended on her must be afflicted, and gradually the memory of his own childhood, during which he too had lost his mother, came back to his mind. When the time of full mourning was over, Shiônagon, together with the young girl, returned to their house in the capital. There one evening Genji paid them a visit. The house was rather a gloomy one, and was tenanted by fewer inmates than usual. "How timid the little girl must feel!" thought Genji, as he was shown in. Shiônagon now told him with tearful eyes every circumstance which had taken place since she had seen him. She also said that the girl might be handed over to her father, who told her that she must do so, but his present wife was said to be very austere. The girl is not young enough to be without ideas and wishes of her own, but yet not old enough to form them sensibly; so were she to be taken to her father's house and be placed with several other children, much misery would be the result. Her grandmother suffered much on this account. "Your kindness is great," continued she, "and we ought not, perhaps, to think too anxiously about the future. Still she is young, too young, and we cannot think of it without pity." "Why do you recur to that so often?" said Genji, "it is her very youthfulness which moves my sympathy. I am anxious to talk to her, Say, can the wave that rolls to land, Return to ocean's heaving breast, Nor greet the weed upon the strand With one wild kiss, all softly pressed. How sweet it would be!" "That is very beautifully put, sir," said Shiônagon, "but, Half trembling at the coming tide That rolls about the sea-beat sand, Say, can the tender weed untried, Be trusted to its boisterous hand?" Meanwhile the girl, who was with her companions in her apartment, and who was told that a gentleman in Court dress had arrived, and that perhaps it was the Prince, her father, came running in, saying, "Shiônagon, where is the gentleman in Court dress; has the Prince, my father, arrived?" "Not the Prince, your father," uttered Genji, "but I am here, and I too am your friend. Come here!" The girl, glancing with shy timidity at Genji, for whom she already had some liking, and thinking that perhaps there was impropriety in what she had spoken, went over to her nurse, and said, "Oh! I am very sleepy, and wish to lie down!" "See how childish she still is," remarked Shiônagon. "Why are you so timid, little one, come here and sleep on my knees," said Genji. "Go, my child, as you are asked," observed Shiônagon, and she pushed her towards Genji. Half-unconsciously she took her place by his side. He pushed aside a small shawl which covered her hair, and played with her long tresses, and then he took her small hand in his. "Ah, my hand!" cried she, and drawing it back, she ran into a neighboring room. Genji followed her, and tried to coax her out of her shyness, telling her that he was one of her best friends, and that she was not to be so timid. By this time darkness had succeeded to the beautiful evening, and hail began to fall. "Close the casement, it is too fearful, I will watch over you this evening," said Genji, as he led the girl away, to the great surprise of Shiônagon and others who wondered at his ease in doing this. By and by she became sleepy, and Genji, as skilfully as any nurse could, removed all her outer clothing, and placed her on the couch to sleep, telling her as he sat beside her, "some day you must come with me to some beautiful palace, and there you shall have as many pictures and playthings as you like." Many other similar remarks he added to arrest her attention and to please her. Her fears gradually subsided, and as she kept looking on the handsome face of Genji, and taking notice of his kindness, she did not fall asleep for some time. When the night was advanced, and the hailstorm had passed away, Genji at last took his departure. The temperature now suddenly changed, and the hail was lying white upon the grass. "Can it be," thought he, "that I am leaving this place as a lover?" At that moment he remembered that the house of a maiden with whom he had had an acquaintance was on his road home. When he came near to it he ordered one of his attendants to knock at the door. No one, however, came forth. Thereupon Genji turned to another, who had a remarkably good voice, and ordered him to sing the following lines:-- "Though wandering in the morning gray, This gate is one I cannot pass, A tender memory bids me stay To see once more a pretty lass." This was repeated twice, when presently a man came to the door and sang, in reply, as follows:-- "If you cannot pass the gate, Welcome all to stop and wait. Nought prevents you. Do not fear, For the gate stands always here." And then went in, slamming the door in their faces, and appearing no more. Genji, therefore disappointed, proceeded on his way home. On the morrow he took up his pen to write a letter to Violet, but finding that he had nothing in particular to say, he laid it aside, and instead of a letter several beautiful pictures were sent for her. From this time Koremitz was sent there very often, partly to do them service, and partly to watch over their movements. At last the time when the girl's father was to take her home approached within a night, and Shiônagon was busily occupied in sewing a dress for the girl, and was thus consequently unable to take much notice of Koremitz when he arrived. Noting these preparatory arrangements, Koremitz at once hastened to inform Genji about them. He happened to be this evening at the mansion of Sadaijin, but Lady Aoi was not, as was often the case, with him, and he was amusing himself there with thumping a _wagon_ as he sang a "Hitachi" song. Koremitz presented himself before him, and gave him the latest information of what was going on. Genji, when he had listened to Koremitz, thought, "This will never do; I must not lose her in this way. But the difficulty is indeed perplexing. If, on the one hand, she goes to her father, it will not become me to ask him for her. If, on the other hand, I carry her off, people may say that I stole her. However, upon consideration, this latter plan, if I can manage to shut people's mouths beforehand, will be much better than that I should demand her from her father." So, turning to Koremitz, he said, "I must go there. See that the carriage is ready at whatever hour I may appoint. Let two or three attendants be in readiness." Koremitz, having received these orders, retired. Long before dawn broke, Genji prepared to leave the mansion. Lady Aoi, as usual, was a little out of temper, but Genji told her that he had some particular arrangements to make at his mansion at Nijiô, but that he would soon return to her. He soon started, Koremitz alone following him on horseback. On their arrival Koremitz proceeded to a small private entrance and announced himself. Shiônagon recognized his voice and came out, and upon this he informed her that the Prince had come. She, presuming that he did so only because he happened to pass by them, said, "What! at this late hour?" As she spoke, Genji came up and said:-- "I hear that the little one is to go to the Prince, her father, and I wish to say a few words to her before she goes." "She is asleep; really, I am afraid that she cannot talk with you at this hour. Besides, what is the use?" replied Shiônagon, with a smile. Genji, however, pressed his way into the house, saying:-- "Perhaps the girl is not awake yet, but I will awake her," and, as the people could not prevent his doing so, he proceeded to the room where she was unconsciously sleeping on a couch. He shook her gently. She started up, thinking it was her father who had come. Genji pushed the hair back from her face, as he said to her, "I am come from your father;" but this she knew to be false, and was alarmed. "Don't be frightened," said Genji; "there is nothing in me to alarm you." And in spite of Shiônagon's request not to disturb her, he lifted her from the couch, abruptly saying that he could not allow her to go elsewhere, and that he had made up his mind that he himself would be her guardian. He also said she should go with him, and that some of them should go with her. Shiônagon was thunderstruck. "We are expecting her father to-morrow, and what are we to say to him?" She added, "Surely, you can find some better opportunity to manage matters than this." "All right, you can come afterward; we will go first," retorted Genji, as he ordered his carriage to drive up. Shiônagon was perplexed, and Violet also cried, thinking how strange all this was. At last Shiônagon saw it was no use to resist, and so having hurriedly changed her own dress for a better one, and taking with her the pretty dress of Violet which she had been making in the evening, got into the carriage, where Genji had already placed the little one. It was no great distance to Nijiô, and they arrived there before dawn. The carriage was driven up to the western wing of the mansion. To Shiônagon the whole affair seemed like a dream. "What am I to do?" she said to Genji, who teasingly answered, "What you choose. You may go if you like; so long as this darling is here I am content." Genji lifted the girl out and carried her into the house. That part of the mansion in which they now were, had not been inhabited, and the furniture was scanty and inappropriate; so, calling Koremitz, the Prince ordered him to see that proper furniture was brought. The beds were therefore taken from the eastern wing, where he himself lived. Day broke, and Shiônagon surveyed with admiration all the magnificence with which she was surrounded. Both the exterior of the building and its internal arrangements left nothing to be desired. Going to the casement, she saw the gravelled walks flashing brightly in the sun. "Ah," thought she, "where am I amidst all this splendor? This is too grand for me!" Bath water for their ablutions, and rice soup were now brought into the apartment, and Genji afterward made his appearance. "What! no attendants? No one to play with the girl? I will send some," and he then ordered some young persons from the eastern wing of the mansion. Four accordingly came. Violet was still fast asleep in her night-dress, and now Genji gently shook and woke her. "Do not be frightened any more," he said quietly to her; "a good girl would not be so, but would know that it is best to be obedient." She became more and more pleasing to him, and he tried to please her by presenting to her a variety of pretty pictures and playthings, and by consulting her wishes in whatever she desired. She was still wearing the dress of mourning, of sombre color and of soft material, and it was only now at last that she began to smile a little, and this filled Genji with delight. He now had to return to the eastern wing, and Violet, for the first time, went to the casement and looked out on the scenery around. The trees covered with foliage, a small lake, and the plantations round about expanded before her as in a picture. Here and there young people were going in and out. "Ah! what a pretty place," she exclaimed, charmed as she gazed around. Then, turning again into the apartment, she saw beautiful pictures painted on the screens and walls, which could not but please her. Genji did not go to the Palace for two or three days, but spent his time in trying to train Violet. "She must soon take lessons in writing," he thought, and he wrote several writing copies for her. Among these was one in plain characters on violet-colored paper, with the title, "Musashi-no" (The field of Musashi is known for its violets). She took it up, and in handwriting plain and clear though small, she found the following: Though still a bud the violet be, A still unopened blossom here, Its tenderness has charms for me, Recalling one no longer near. "Come, _you_ must write one now," said Genji. "I cannot write well enough," said Violet, looking up at him, with an extremely charming look. "Never mind, whether good or bad," said he, "but still write something, to refuse is unkind. When there is any difficulty I will help you through with it." Thereupon she turned aside shyly and wrote something, handling the pen gracefully with her tiny fingers. "I have done it badly," she cried out, and tried to conceal what she had written, but Genji insisted on seeing it and found the following:-- I wonder what's the floweret's name, From which that bud its charm may claim! This was, of course, written in a childish hand, but the writing was large and plain, giving promise of future excellence. "How like her grandmother's it is," thought Genji. "Were she to take lessons from a good professor she might become a master of the art." He ordered for her a beautiful doll's house, and played with her different innocent and amusing games. In the meantime, the Prince, her father, had duly arrived at the old home of Violet and asked for her. The servants were embarrassed, but as they had been requested by Genji not to tell, and as Shiônagon had also enjoined them to keep silence, they simply told him that the nurse had taken her and absconded. The Prince was greatly amazed, but he remembered that the girl's grandmother never consented to send his daughter to his house, and knowing Shiônagon to be a shrewd and intelligent woman, he concluded that she had found out the reasons which influenced her, and that so out of respect to her, and out of dislike to tell him the reason of it, she had carried the girl off in order that she might be kept away from him. He therefore merely told the servants to inform him at once if they heard anything about them, and he returned home. Our story again brings us back to Nijiô. The girl gradually became reconciled to her new home, as she was most kindly treated by Genji. True, during those evenings when Genji was absent she thought of her dead grandmother, but the image of her father never presented itself to her, as she had seldom seen him. And now, naturally enough, Genji, whom she had learned to look upon as a second father, was the only one for whom she cared. She was the first to greet him when he came home, and she came forward to be fondled and caressed by him without shame or diffidence. Girls at her age are usually shy and under restraint, but with her it was quite different. And again, if a girl has somewhat of jealousy in her disposition, and looks upon every little trifle in a serious light, a man will have to be cautious in his dealings with her, and she herself, too, will often have to undergo vexation. Thus many disagreeable and unexpected incidents might often result. In the case of Violet, however, things were very different, and she was ever amiable and invariably pleasant. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 61: An Indian theological writing.] [Footnote 62: In the Buddhist Bible it is stated that there is in Paradise a divine tree, called Udon, which rarely blossoms. When, however, it does blossom, Buddha is said to appear in the world, therefore we make use of this expression when referring to any rare event.] [Footnote 63: The name of a song which in those days formed the first lesson in writing.] [Footnote 64: The authoress represents her in a subsequent chapter as suffering punishment in the next world for this sin. The real cause of Genji's exile is also supposed to have resulted from the same sin.] CHAPTER VI SAFFRON FLOWER The beauteous Yûgao of Genji was lost, but memory of her never vanished from his mind. Her attractive nature, thoughtfulness, and patient manner had seemed to him surpassingly charming. At last he began to think of seeking for some other maiden who might resemble her in these qualities. True, his thoughts had often reverted to Cicada, and to her young friend; but it was now of little use thinking of them, for one had gone to the country, and the other was married. Now, Genji had another nurse, next in degree to Daini. The daughter of this nurse, Tayû-no-Miôbu, was in Court service. She was still young, and full of mirth and life. Genji was wont to make her useful when in the palace. Her father, who had been remotely connected with the Royal blood, was an official in the War Department. Her mother, however, had been married again to the Governor of the province of Chikzen, and had gone there with her husband; so Tayû made her father's house her home, and went from there backwards and forwards to the palace. She was an intimate acquaintance of a young Princess, the daughter of the late Lord-Lieutenant of Hitachi, and she had been the child of his old age, and was at this time his survivor. The life that she passed was somewhat lonely, and her circumstances miserable. Tayû mentioned this young lady to Genji, who exclaimed:-- "How sad! Tell me all about her." "I cannot say that I know so much about her," replied Tayû. "She leads a very retired life, and is seldom seen in society. Perhaps, some favorable evening, you might see her from a hiding-place. The _koto_ is her favorite instrument, and the favorite amusement of her solitude." "Ah!" said Genji, "I see, one of the three friends (as the Chinese poets call them)--Music, Poetry, and Wine; but, of the other two, one is not always a good friend." And he added, "Well, you may manage some time to let me hear her _koto_. The Prince, her father, had great taste and reputation in such arts; so, I believe, she is no ordinary performer." "But, perhaps, after all, not so good as you imagine," replied Tayû, disingenuously. "Oh! that remains to be discovered," cried Genji, nibbling at the bait. "One of these evenings I will come, and you had better be there also." Now, the home of Tayû's father was at some distance from the Princess's mansion; but Tayû used to spend her time very often with the Princess, when she had leave of absence from the Court, chiefly because she did not like being at home with her stepmother. For this reason Tayû had plenty of chances for gratifying the wish of Genji to see the Princess; so a certain evening was appointed. It was a sweet balmy day in spring, and the grounds of the palace were full of silence and repose. Tayû left the palace, and proceeded to the mansion of the Princess, attracted more by the beauty of the evening than by the appointment made. Genji also appeared on the scene, with the newly risen moon, and was soon prattling with Tayû. "You have not come at a very favorable time," said she. "This is not the sort of evening when the _koto_ sounds sweetest." "But take me somewhere, so that I may hear her voice. I cannot go away without hearing that." Tayû then led him into a private room, where she made him sit down, and left him, saying, as she went away, "I am sorry to make you wait, but you must have a little patience." She proceeded to another part of the palace occupied by the Princess, whom she found sitting pensively near an open casement, inhaling the rich perfume of the plum blossoms. "A good opportunity," thought Tayû; and, advancing to the Princess, said: "What a lovely evening! How sweet at such an hour is the music of the _koto_! My official going to and fro to the palace prevents me from having the pleasure of hearing it often; so do now, if you please, play me a tune." "You appreciate music," said the Princess; "but I am afraid that mine is not good enough to charm the ear of courtiers; but, if you wish it, I will play one tune." And she ordered the _koto_ to be brought, and began to strike it. Her skill was certainly not super-excellent; but she had been well instructed, and the effect was by no means displeasing to the ear. Tayû, however, it must be remembered, was rather a sharp girl. She did not like Genji to hear too much, so as to criticise; and, therefore, said to the Princess, casting a glance upwards, "How changed and dull the sky has become. A friend of mine is waiting; and is, perhaps, impatient. I must have more of this pleasure some other time; at present I must go and see him." Thus she caused the Princess to cease playing, and went to Genji, who exclaimed, when she returned, "Her music seems pretty good; but I had better not have heard it at all. How can we judge by so little? If you are willing to oblige me at all, let me hear and see more closely than this." Tayû made a difficulty. "She is so retiring," she said, "and always keeps herself in the strictest privacy. Were you to intrude upon her, it would not be acting rightly." "Truly so," replied Genji; "her position insures her from intrusion. Let us, then, seek for some better opportunity." And then he prepared to take leave, as if he had some other affairs on his hands. Tayû observed, with a knowing smile, "The Emperor, your father, always thinks of you as quite guileless, and actually says so. When I hear these remarks I often laugh in my sleeve. Were his Majesty to see you in these disguises, what would he then think?" Genji answered, with a slight laugh: "Nonsense! If these trifling amusements were thought so improper, how cheerless the life of woman would be!" Tayû made no remark in reply; so Genji then left the house, and took a stroll round the garden, intending to reach that part of the mansion where the Princess had her apartments. As he sauntered along, he came to a thick hedge, in which there was a dark bower, and here wished to stop awhile. He stepped cautiously into it, when he suddenly perceived a tall man concealed there. "Who can this be?" thought Genji, as he withdrew to a corner where the moonlight did not reach. This was Tô-no-Chiûjiô, and the reason of his being there was this: He had left the Palace that evening in company with Genji, who did not go to his house in Nijiô, nor to his bride, but separated from him on the road. Tô-no-Chiûjiô was very anxious to find out where Genji was going. He therefore followed him unperceived. When he saw Genji enter the mansion of the Princess, he wished to see how the business would end; so he waited in the garden, in order that he might witness Genji's departure, listening, at the same time, to the _koto_ of the Princess. Genji did not know who the man was, nor did he wish to be recognized. He therefore began to retreat slowly on tip-toe, when Tô-no-Chiûjiô came up to him from behind, and addressed him: "You slighted me, but I have come to watch over you:-- Though like two wandering moons on high We left our vast imperial home, We parted on our road, and I Knew not where you were bent to roam." Genji at once recognized his companion; and, being somewhat amused at his pertinacity, exclaimed: "What an unexpected surprise! We all admire the moon, 'tis true, Whose home unknown to mortal eye Is in the mountains hid, but who To find that far-off home, would try?" Hereupon Tô-no-Chiûjiô gave him a taunt: "What would you do," said he, "if I were to follow you very often? Were you to maintain true propriety in your position, you ought always to have trustworthy attendants; and I am sure, by so doing, you will meet with better fortune. I cannot say that it is very decorous of you to go wandering about in such a fashion. It is too frivolous!" "How very tiresome!" mentally exclaimed Genji; "but he little knows about his Nadeshiko (little darling). I have him there!" Neither of them ventured to go to any other rendezvous that night; but, with many mutual home-thrusts, they got into a carriage together, and proceeded home, amusing themselves all the way with a duet on their flutes. Entering the mansion, they went to a small apartment, where they changed their dresses, and commenced playing the flutes in such a manner as if they had come from the Palace. The Sadaijin, hearing this music, could not forbear joining them, and blew skilfully a Corean flute in concert with theirs. Lady Aoi, also, in her room, catching the impulse, ordered some practised players on the _koto_ to perform. Meantime, both Genji and Tô-no-Chiûjiô, in their secret minds, were thinking of the notes of the _koto_ heard before on that evening, and of the bare and pitiable condition of the residence of the Princess whom they had left--a great contrast to the luxury of their present quarters. Tô-no-Chiûjiô's idea about her took something of this shape: "If girls who, from a modest propriety, keep themselves aloof for years from our society, were at last to be subdued by our attentions, our affection for them would become irresistible, even braving whatever remarks popular scandal might pass upon us. She may be like one of these. The Prince Genji seems to have made her the object of some attentions. He is not one to waste his time without reason. He knows what he is doing." As these thoughts arose in his mind, a slight feeling of jealousy disturbed him, and made him ready to dare a little rivalry in that quarter; for, it would appear, that after this day amatory letters were often sent both by him and Genji to the Princess, who, however, returned no answer to either. This silence on her part made Tô-no-Chiûjiô, more especially, think thus: "A strange rejection; and from one, too, who possesses such a secluded life. True, her birth is high; but that cannot be the only reason which makes her bury herself in retirement. There must be some stronger reason, I presume." As we have before mentioned, Genji and Tô-no-Chiûjiô were so intimate that all ceremony was dispensed with between them, and they could ask each other any question without reserve. From this circumstance Tô-no-Chiûjiô one day boldly inquired of Genji: "I dare say you have received some replies from the Princess. Have you not? I for my part have thrown out some hints in that quarter by way of experiment, but I gave up in disappointment." "Ah, then, he too has been trying there," thought Genji, smiling slightly, and he replied very vaguely, "I am not particularly concerned whether I get an answer or not, therefore I cannot tell you whether I have received any." "I understand that," thought Tô-no-Chiûjiô; "perhaps he has got one; I suspect so." To state the truth, Genji was not very deeply smitten by the Princess, and he was but little concerned at her sending no reply to his letter; but when he heard the confession of his brother-in-law's attempts in the same quarter, the spirit of rivalry stirred him once more. "A girl," thought he, "will yield to him who pays her the most attentions. I must not allow him to excel me in that." And Genji determined to achieve what he intended to do, and with this object still enlisted the aid of Tayû. He told her that the Princess's treating his letter with such indifference was an act of great cruelty. "Perhaps she does this," said he, "because she suspects I am changeable. I am not, however, such a one as that. It is often only the fault of ladies themselves that causes men to appear so; besides a lady, like the Princess, who has neither parent nor brother to interfere with her, is a most desirable acquaintance, as we can maintain our friendship far better than we could otherwise do." "Yes! what you say is all very well," replied Tayû, "but the Princess is not exactly so placed that any one can make himself quite at ease with her. As I told you before she is very bashful and reserved; but yet is perhaps more desirable for this very reason," and she detailed many more particulars about her. This enabled Genji to fully picture the general bearing of the Princess's character; and he thought, "Perhaps her mind is not one of brilliant activity, but she may be modest, and of a quiet nature, worthy of attention." And so he kept the recollection of her alive in his mind. Before, however, he met her, many events had taken place. He had been attacked by the ague, which led to his journey to the mountain and his discovery of Violet, and his secret affection for a certain one in the palace. His mind being thus otherwise occupied, the spring and summer passed away without anything further transpiring about the Princess. As the autumn advanced his thoughts recurred to past times, and even the sound of the fuller's hammer, which he had listened to in the home of Yûgao, came back to his mental ear; and these reveries again brought him to the recollection of the Princess Hitachi, and now once more he began to urge Tayû to contrive a meeting. It would seem that there was no difficulty for Tayû to bring the matter about, but at the same time no one knew better than herself that the natural gifts and culture of the Princess were far from coming up to Genji's standard. She thought, however, that it would matter very little if he did not care for her, but if, on the other hand, he did so, he was quite free to come and see her without any interference. For this reason she at last made up her mind to bring them together, and she gave several hints to the Princess. Now it so happened towards the end of August that Tayû was on one occasion engaged in conversing with the Princess. The evening was as yet moonless, the stars alone twinkled in the heavens, and the gentle winds blew plaintively over the tall trees around the mansion. The conversation gradually led to times gone by, and the Princess was rendered sad by the contrast of her present circumstances with those of her father's time. "This is a good opportunity," thought Tayû, and she sent, it seems, a message to Genji, who soon hastened to the mansion with his usual alacrity. At the moment when he arrived on the scene the long-looked-for moon had just made her appearance over the tops of a distant mountain, and as he looked along the wildly growing hedges around the residence, he heard the sound of the _koto_, which was being played by the Princess at Tayû's request. It sounded a little too old-fashioned, but that was of no consequence to the eager ears of the Prince. He soon made his way to the entrance, and requested a domestic to announce him to Tayû. When the latter heard of this she affected great surprise, and said to the Princess, "The Prince has come. How annoying! He has often been displeased because I have not yet introduced him to you. I have often told him that you do not particularly like it, and therefore I cannot think what makes him come here. I had better see him and send him away, but what shall I say. We cannot treat him like an ordinary person. I am really puzzled what to do. Will you not let me ask you if you will see him for a few minutes, then all matters will end satisfactorily?" "But I am not used to receive people," said the Princess, blushing. "How simple minded!" rejoined Tayû, coaxingly, "I am sorry for that, for the bashfulness of young ladies who are under the care of their parents may sometimes be even desirable, but how then is that parallel with your case? Besides, I do not see any good in a friendless maiden refusing the offer of a good acquaintance." "Well, if you really insist upon it," said the Princess, "perhaps I will; but don't expose me too much to the gaze of a stranger." Having thus cunningly persuaded the Princess, Tayû set the reception-room in order, into which Genji was soon shown. The Princess was all the while experiencing much nervousness, and as she did not know exactly how to manage, she left everything to Tayû, and was led by her to the room to receive her visitor. The room was arranged in such a way that the Princess had her back to the light so that her face and emotions could be obscured. The perfume which she used was rich, still preserving the trait of high birth, but her demeanor was timid, and her deportment awkward. Genji at once noticed this. "Just as I imagined. She is so simple," thought he, and then he commenced to talk with her, and to explain how passionately he had desired to see her. She, however, listened to him almost in silence, and gave no plain answer. Genji was disconcerted, and at last said, "From you I sought so oft reply, But you to give one would not deign, If you discard me, speak, and I Will cease to trouble you again." The governess of the Princess, Kojijiû by name, who was present, was a sagacious woman, and noticing the embarrassment of the lady, she advanced to her side, and made the following reply in such a well-timed manner that her real object, which was to conceal the deficiencies of her mistress, did not betray itself-- "Not by the ringing of a bell, Your words we wish to stay; But simply, she has nought to tell, And nothing much to say." "Your eloquence has so struck me that my mouth is almost closed," said Genji, smiling-- "Not speaking is a wiser part, And words are sometimes vain, But to completely close the heart In silence, gives me pain." He then tried to speak of this thing and that indifferently, but all hopes of agreeable responsiveness on the lady's part being vain, he coolly took his leave, and left the mansion, much disappointed. This evening he slept in his mansion at Nijiô. The next morning Tô-no-Chiûjiô appeared before he had risen. "How late, how late!" he cried, in a peculiar tone. "Were you fatigued last night, eh?" Genji rose and presently came out, saying, "I have overslept myself, that is all; nothing to disturb me. But have you come from the palace? Was it your official watch-night?"[65] "Yes," replied Tô-no-Chiûjiô, "and I must inform you that the dancers and musicians for the _fête_ in Suzak-in are to be nominated to-day. I came from the palace to report this to my father, so I must now go home, but I will soon return to you." "I will go with you," said Genji, "but let us breakfast before we start." Breakfast was accordingly brought, of which they partook. Two carriages, Genji's and Tô-no-Chiûjiô's, were driven to the door, but Tô-no-Chiûjiô invited the Prince to take a seat with him. Genji complied, and they drove off. Going along Tô-no-Chiûjiô observed with an envious tone in his voice, "You look very sleepy;" to which Genji returned an indifferent reply. From the house of Sadaijin they proceeded to the Imperial Palace to attend the selection of the dancers and musicians. Thence Genji drove with his father-in-law to the mansion of the latter. Here in the excitement of the coming _fête_ were assembled several young nobles, in addition to Genji himself. Some practised dancing, others music, the sound of which echoed everywhere around. A large _hichiriki_ and a _shakuhachi_ (two kinds of flute) were blown with the utmost vigor. Even large drums were rolled upon a balcony and beaten with a will. During the following days, therefore, Genji was so busily engaged that no thought came across his mind of revisiting the Princess Hitachi. Tayû certainly came now and then, and strove to induce him to pay the Princess another visit, but he made an excuse on the pretext of being so much occupied. It was not until the _fête_ was over that one evening he resolved to pay a visit there. He did not, however, announce his intention openly, but went there in strict secrecy, making his way to the house unobserved, as there was no one about. On his arrival he went up to the latticed window and peeped through. The curtains were old and half worn out, yet were still left to hang in the once pretty and decorated chamber. There were a few domestic maidens there partaking of supper. The table and service seemed to be old Chinese, but everything else betrayed a scantiness of furniture. In the further room where the mistress was probably dining, an old waitress was passing in and out, wearing a peculiar white dress rather faded in appearance, and an awkward-looking comb in her hair, after the old-fashioned style of those formerly in the service of the aristocratic class, of whom a few might still be retained in a family. "Ah," thought Genji, smiling, "we might see this kind of thing in the college of ceremonies." One of the maids happened to say, "This poor cold place! when one's life is too long, such fate comes to us." Another answered her, "How was it we did not like the mansion when the late Prince was living?" Thus they talked about one thing or another connected with their mistress's want of means. Genji did not like that they should know that he had seen and heard all this, so he slyly withdrew some distance, and then advancing with a firm step, approached the door and knocked. "Some one is come," cried a servant, who then brought a light, opened the door, and showed him into a room where he was soon joined by the Princess, neither Tayû nor Kojijiû being there on this occasion. The latter was acquainted with the Saiin (the sacred virgin at the Temple of Kamo),[66] and often spent some time with her. On this occasion she happened to be visiting her, a circumstance which was not very convenient for the Princess. The dilapidated state of the mansion was just as novel to Genji as that which he had seen in the lodge of Yûgao, but the great drawback consisted in the Princess's want of responsiveness. He spoke much, she but little. Outside, in the meantime, the weather had become boisterous and snow fell thickly, while within in the room where they sat the lamp burned dimly, no one waiting there even to trim the light. Some hours were spent between them, and then Genji rose, and throwing up the shutter in the same way as he did in the lodge of Yûgao, looked upon the snow which had fallen in the garden. The ground was covered with a sheet of pure whiteness; no footstep had left its trace, betraying the fact that few persons came to the mansion. He was about to take his departure, but some vague impulse arrested him. Turning to the Princess, he asked her to come near him, and to look out on the scene, and she somewhat unreadily complied. The evening was far advanced, but the reflection of the snow threw a faint light over all. Now, for the first time, he discovered the imperfections of the personal attractions of the Princess. First, her stature was very tall, the upper part of her figure being out of proportion to the lower, then one thing which startled him most was her nose. It reminded him of the elephant of Fugen. It was high and long; while its peak, a little drooping, was tinged with pink. To the refined eyes of Genji this was a sad defect. Moreover, she was thin, too thin; and her shoulders drooped too much, as if the dress was too heavy for them. "Why am I so anxious to examine and criticise?" thought Genji, but his curiosity impelled him to continue his examination. Her hair and the shape of her head were good, in no way inferior to those of others he liked so well. Her complexion was fair, and her forehead well developed. The train of her dress, which hung down gracefully, seemed about a foot too long. If I described everything which she wore I should become loquacious, but in old stories the dress of the personages is very often more minutely described than anything else; so I must, I suppose, do the same. Her vest and skirt dress were double, and were of light green silk, a little worn, over which was a robe of dark color. Over all this she wore a mantle of sable of good quality, only a little too antique in fashion. To all these things, therefore, he felt no strong objection; but the two things he could not pass unnoticed were her nose, and her style of movement. She moved in a stiff and constrained manner, like a master of the ceremonies in some Court procession, spreading out his arms and looking important. This afforded him amusement, but still he felt for her. "If I say too much, pardon me," said Genji, "but you seem apparently friendless. I should advise you to take interest in one with whom you have made acquaintance. He will sympathize with you. You are much too reserved. Why are you so? The icicle hangs at the gable end, But melts when the sun is high, Why does your heart not to me unbend, And warm to my melting sigh." A smile passed over the lips of the Princess, but they seemed too stiff to reply in a similar strain. She said nothing. The time had now come for Genji to depart. His carriage was drawn up to the middle gate, which, like everything else that belonged to the mansion, was in a state of dilapidation. "The spot overgrown with wild vegetation, spoken of by Sama-no-Kami might be such as this," he thought. "If one can find a real beauty of elevated character and obtain her, how delightful would it not be! The spot answers the description, but the girl does not quite equal the idea; however, I really pity her, and will look after her. She is a fortunate girl, for if I were not such a one as I am, I should have little sympathy for the unfortunate and unfavored. But this is not what I shall do." He saw an orange tree in the garden covered with snow. He bade his servant shake it free. A pine tree which stood close by suddenly jerked its branches as if in emulation of its neighbor, and threw off its load of snow like a wave. The gate through which he had to drive out was not yet opened. The gatekeeper was summoned to open it. Thereupon an aged man came forth from his lodge. A miserable-looking girl with a pinched countenance stood by, his daughter or his granddaughter, whose dress looked poorer from the whiteness of the surrounding snow. She had something containing lighted charcoal which she held to her breast for warmth. When she observed that her aged parent could scarcely push back the gate, she came forward and helped him. And the scene was quite droll. Genji's servant also approached them, and the gates were thrown open. Again Genji hummed:-- "The one who on the time-bent head of age, Beholds the gathered snow, Nor less his tears of grief may shed, For griefs that youth can only know." and added, "Youth with its body uncovered."[67] Then the pitiable image of one with a tinged flower[68] on her face presented itself once more to his thoughts and made him smile. "If Tô-no-Chiûjiô observed this, what would he not have to say?" thought he, as he drove back slowly to his mansion. After this time communications were frequently sent from Genji to the Princess. This he did because he pitied the helpless condition and circumstances he had witnessed more than for any other reason. He also sent her rolls of silk, which might replace the old-fashioned sable-skins, some damask, calico and the like. Indeed, presents were made even to her aged servants and to the gatekeeper. In ordinary circumstances with women, particular attention such as this might make a blush, but the Princess did not take it in such a serious light, nor did Genji do this from any other motive than kindness. The year approached its end! He was in his apartment in the Imperial Palace, when one morning Tayû came in. She was very useful to him in small services, such as hairdressing, so she had easy access to him, and thus she came to him this morning. "I have something strange to tell you, but it is somewhat trying for me to do so," she said, half smiling. "What can it be? There can be nothing to conceal from me!" "But I have some reason for my hesitation to reveal it," replied Tayû. "You make a difficulty, as usual," rejoined Genji. "This is from the Princess," she said, taking a letter from her pocket and presenting it. "Is this a thing of all others that you ought to conceal," cried Genji, taking the letter and opening it. It was written on thick and coarse paper of Michinok manufacture. The verse it contained ran as follows:-- "Like this, my sleeves are worn away, By weeping at your long delay." These words puzzled Genji. Inclining his head in a contemplative way, he glanced from the paper to Tayû, and from Tayû to the paper. Then she drew forth a substantial case of antique pattern, saying, "I cannot produce such a thing without shame, but the Princess expressly sent this for your New Year. I could not return it to her nor keep it myself; I hope you will just look at it." "Oh, certainly," replied Genji. "It is very kind of her," at the same time thinking, "What a pitiful verse! This may really be her own composition. No doubt Kojijiû has been absent, besides she seems to have had no master to improve her penmanship. This must have been written with great effort. We ought to be grateful for it, as they say." Here a smile rose on Genji's cheeks, and a blush upon Tayû's. The case was opened, and a Naoshi (a kind of gown), of scarlet, shabby and old-fashioned, of the same color on both sides, was found inside. The sight was almost too much for Genji from its very absurdity. He stretched out the paper on which the verse had been written, and began to write on one side, as if he was merely playing with the pen. Tayû, glancing slyly, found that he had written:-- This color pleases not mine eye, Too fiery bright its gaudy hue, And when the saffron flower was nigh, The same pink tinge was plain to view. He then erased what he had written, but Tayû quickly understood what he really meant by "saffron flower," referring to the pinkness of its flower, so she remarked:-- "Although the dress too bright in hue, And scarlet tints may please you not, At least to her, who sends, be true, Soon will Naoshi be forgot." While they were thus prattling on the matter, people were entering the room to see him, so Genji hastily put the things aside, and Tayû retired. A few days after, Genji one morning looked into the Daihan-sho (large parlor), where he found Tayû, and threw a letter to her, saying, "Tayû, here is the answer. It has cost me some pains," and then passed through, humming as he went, with a peculiar smile, "Like that scarlet-tinged plum." None but Tayû understood the real allusion. One of the women observed, "The weather is too frosty, perhaps he has seen some one reddened by the frost." Another said, "What an absurdity! There is no one among us of that hue, but perhaps Sakon or Unemé may be like this," and thus they chattered on till the matter dropped. The letter was soon sent by Tayû to the Princess, who assembled all her attendants round her, and they all read it together, when the following was found in it:-- Of my rare visits you complain, But can the meaning be, Pray come not often, nor again, For I am tired of thee. On the last day of the year he made the following presents to the Princess, sending them in the same case as the Naoshi had been sent to him: stuff for a complete dress, which had originally been presented to himself; also rolls of silk, one of the color of the purple grape, another of the Kerria japonica color, and others. All these were handed to the Princess by Tayû. It should be observed that these presents were made by Genji to the Princess chiefly on account of her reduced circumstances. Her attendants, however, who wished to flatter their mistress, exclaimed, "Our scarlet dress was very good, too. Scarlet is a color which never fades. The lines we sent were also excellent. Those of the Prince are, no doubt, a little amusing, but nothing more." The Princess, flattered by the remarks, wrote down her verse in her album, as if worthy of preservation. The New Year began with the morrow; and it was announced that the Otoko-dôka (gentlemen's singing dances) would soon take place in which Genji would take part. Hence he was busy in going backwards and forwards, to practise, but the lonely residence of the saffron flower began to draw his thoughts in that direction. So after the ceremony of the State Festival, on the seventh day, he betook himself there in the evening, after he had left the Emperor's presence, having made a pretence of retiring to his own private apartments. On this occasion the appearance of the lady happened to be a little more attractive, and Genji was pleased, thinking there might be a time when she would improve still more. When the sun shone forth he rose to leave. He opened the casement on the western side of the mansion, and, looking at the corridor, perceived that its roof was broken. Through it the sunshine peeped, and shone upon the slight cover of snow scattered in the crevices. The scene, as we have before said, betrayed everywhere dilapidation and decay. The mirror-stand, combs, and dressing-case were brought in by an attendant. They were all of an extremely antique pattern. He drew an "arm-stool" near him, and resting himself upon it began combing his hair. He was amused at the sight of these articles, which were doubtless a legacy from her parents. The dress of the Princess was in every way nicer. It had been made out of the silk of Genji's present. He recognized it by the tasteful pattern. Turning to her he said, "This year you might become a little more genial, the only thing I wait for above all is a change in your demeanor." To which she, with some awkwardness, said, "In the spring, when numerous birds sing." Such poetic responses were a great delight to Genji, who thought they were the silent touches of time, and that she had made some improvement. He then left and returned to his mansion in Nijiô, where he saw the young Violet innocently amusing herself. She wore with grace a long close-fitting cherry-colored dress of plain silk. She had not yet blackened her teeth,[69] but he now made her do so, which gave a pleasant contrast to her eyebrows. He played at their usual games at toys with her, trying in every way to please her. She drew pictures and painted them, so did he also. He drew the likeness of a lady with long hair, and painted her nose with pink. Even in caricature it was odd to see. He turned his head to a mirror in which he saw his own image reflected in great serenity. He then took the brush and painted his own nose pink. Violet, on seeing this, screamed. "When I become ornamented in this way what shall I be like?" inquired Genji. "That would be a great pity. Do wipe it off, it might stain," she replied. Genji partly wiped it off, saying, "Need I wipe it off any more? Suppose I go with this to the Palace?" On this Violet approached and carefully wiped it for him. "Don't put any more color," cried Genji, "and play upon me as Heijiû."[70] The mild sun of spring descended in the west, and darkness slowly gathered over the forest tops, obscuring all but the lovely white plum blossoms which were still visible amidst the gloom. At the front of the porch, also, a red plum blossom, which usually opens very early, was deeply tinged with glowing hues. Genji murmured:-- "The 'red-tinged flower' is far from fair, Nor do my eyes delight to see, But yon red plum which blossoms there, Is full of loveliness to me." What will become of all these personages! FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 65: Young nobles spent a night in the palace in turns, to attend to any unexpected official business.] [Footnote 66: When a new emperor succeeded, two virgins, chosen from the royal princesses, were sent--one to the Shintô temple at Ise, the other to the same temple at Kamo--to become vestals, and superintend the services.] [Footnote 67: From a Chinese poem about poor people "night advancing, snow and hail fly white around. Youth with its body uncovered, and the aged with chilly pain, grief and cold come together, and make them both sob."] [Footnote 68: A play upon the word "hana," which means a nose, as well as a flower.] [Footnote 69: An old custom in Japan for girls when married, or even betrothed, is to blacken their teeth. This custom, however, is rapidly disappearing.] [Footnote 70: In an old tale it is stated that this man had a sweetheart. He often pretended to be weeping, and made his eyes moist by using the water which he kept in his bottle for mixing ink, in order to deceive her. She discovered this ruse; so one day she put ink into it secretly. He damped his eyes as usual, when, giving him a hand mirror, she hummed, "You may show me your tears, but don't show your blackened face to strangers."] CHAPTER VII MAPLE FÊTE The Royal visit to the Suzak-in was arranged to take place towards the middle of October, and was anticipated to be a grand affair. Ladies were not expected to take part in it, and they all regretted their not being able to be present. The Emperor, therefore, wished to let his favorite, the Princess Wistaria, above others, have an opportunity of witnessing a rehearsal that would represent the coming _fête_, and ordered a preliminary concert to be performed at the Court, in which Genji danced the "Blue Main Waves," with Tô-no-Chiûjiô for his partner. They stood and danced together, forming a most pleasing contrast--one, so to speak, like a bright flower; the other, an everlasting verdure beside it. The rays of the setting sun shone over their heads, and the tones of the music rose higher and higher in measure to their steps. The movements both of hand and foot were eminently graceful; as well, also, was the song of Genji, which was sung at the end of his dance, so that some of the people remarked that the sound of the holy bird, Kariôbinga,[71] might be even like this. And so the rehearsal ended. When the day of the _fête_ came, all the Royal Princes, including the Heir-apparent, and all personages of State, were present at the scene. On the lake, "the music boat," filled with selected musicians, floated about, as usual on such occasions; and in the grounds, the bands, which were divided into two divisions on the right and left, under the direction of two Ministers and two Yemon-no-Kami, played. With this music different dances, including Chinese and Corean, were performed, one after another, by various dancers. As the performance went on, the high winds rustled against the tall fir-trees, as though Divine strains of music had broken forth on high in harmony with them. The tune of the bands became quick and thrilling, as different colored leaves whirled about overhead. Then, at length, the hero of the "Blue Main Waves" made his appearance, to the delight of the suddenly startled spectators, from the midst of a knoll in the grounds, covered with maple leaves. The twigs of maple which crowned his head, became thinned as he danced, and a Sadaishiô, plucking a bunch of chrysanthemums from in front of the Royal stand, replaced the lessened maple leaves. The sun was by this time descending, and the sky had become less glaring, while the face of Nature seemed as if it were smiling on the scene. Genji danced with unusual skill and energy. All the pages and attendants, who were severally stationed here under the side of the rock, there under the shade of the foliage, were quite impressed with the effects of the performance. After Genji, a little prince, the child of the Niogo of Jiôkiô-den, danced the "Autumn Gales," with a success next to that of Genji. Then, the principal interest of the day being over, as these dances were finished, the _fête_ ended. This very evening Genji was invested with the title of Shôsammi, and Tô-no-Chiûjiô with that of Shôshii. Many other persons also received promotion in rank according to their merits. It was after this _fête_ that the young Violet was taken into the mansion of Genji at Nijiô, and she lived with him. The more care he took of her the more amiable she became, while nothing pleased him more than teaching her to read and write. The full extent of her mourning for her grandmother was three months, as it is for the maternal side; and on the last day of December her dress was changed. As she, however, had been always brought up under the care of her grandmother, her indebtedness to the latter was not to be held lightly; consequently any bright colors were not advisable for her, so she wore plain scarlet, mauve, and light yellow, without trimmings or ornament on them. The dawn ushered in the New Year's day. Genji was about to leave his mansion to attend the New Year's _levée_. Just before starting, he came into Violet's room to see her. "How are you? Are you becoming less childish now?" said he, with a smile to the girl who was playing with her Hina (toys). "I am trying to mend this. Inuki damaged it when he was playing what he called 'driving out devils,'"[72] replied the girl. "What carelessness! I will soon get it mended for you. Don't cry this day, please," said Genji, and he went off, the maidens who attended on Violet accompanying him to the door. This example was also followed by Violet herself. She went back again to her toys, and presented a toy prince, whom she called Genji, at the Court of her toy house. Shiônagon was beside her. She said:-- "You might really be a little more womanly, as the Prince told you. How very childish! a girl older than ten always playing with toys!" Violet said nothing; but she seemed, for the first time, to have become aware that she was expected to be a woman in the course of time. From the Court, Genji went to the mansion of Sadaijin. Lady Aoi was as cool to him as ever. His persuasive eloquence availed him but little. She was older than Genji by four years, and was as cold and stately in her mien as ever. Her father, however, received him joyfully whenever he called, although he was not always satisfied with the capriciousness of his son-in-law. The next morning Genji rose early, and was arranging his toilet, with a view of making his New Year's visits, when Sadaijin entered the room, and officiously assisted him in putting on his dress, except, perhaps, his boots. He, moreover, had brought him a belt mounted with rare jewels, and requested him to wear it. Genji observed: "Such a belt is more suited for some special occasion--such as a Royal banquet, or the like." But Sadaijin insisted on his putting it on, telling him that for that sort of occasion he possessed a much more valuable one. These New Year's visits were only paid to the Emperor, to the Heir-apparent, and to the Princess Wistaria at her private residence in Sanjiô, where she had retired, but she did not receive him personally. At this time, the Princess was not in her usual state of health, for she was approaching her confinement. Many people, who thought that they might have heard of the event in December, now began to say, "At least we shall receive the intelligence this month," and the Emperor himself became impatient; but the month passed away, and yet it did not happen. In the middle of February, however, she was safely delivered of a Prince. During the following April the child was presented to the Emperor.[73] He was rather big for his age, and had already begun to notice those around him. In these days much of Genji's time was passed at Nijiô with Violet, and Lady Aoi was still greatly neglected. The circumstances which induced him to stay at home more than ever were these: He would order his carriage to be brought in readiness to take him; but, before it was ready, he would proceed to the western wing, where Violet lived. Perhaps, with eyes drowsy after dozing, and playing on a flute as he went, he would find her moping on one side of the room, like a fair flower moistened with dews. He would then approach her side, and say, "How are you? Are you not well?" She, without being startled, would slowly open her eyes, and murmur: "Sad like the weed in a creek," and then put her hand on her mouth deprecatingly. On this he would remark, "How knowing you are! Where did you learn such things?" He would then call for a _koto_, and saying "The worst of the _soh-koto_ is that its middle chord should break so easily," would arrange it for a Hiôjiô tune, and when he had struck a few chords on it, would offer it to her, asking her to play, and would presently accompany her with his flute. They would then play some difficult air, perhaps Hosoroguseri, a very ugly name, but a very lively tune, and she would keep very good time, and display her skill. The lamp would be presently brought in, and they would look over some pictures together. In due time, the carriage would be announced. Perhaps it might be added, "It is coming on to rain." Upon hearing this, she would, perhaps, put her pictures aside, and become downcast. He would then smooth her wavy hair, and say, "Are you sorry when I am not here?" To this question she would indicate her feelings by slightly nodding an affirmative, and she would lean on his knee and begin to doze. He would then say, "I shall not go out to-night." The servant having brought in supper, would tell her that Genji was not going out that evening. Then she would manifest the greatest delight, and would partake of the supper. And thus it came to pass that he often disappointed one who was expecting him. The way that Genji neglected his bride gradually became known to the public--nay, to the Emperor himself, who sometimes admonished him, telling him that his father-in-law always took great interest in him and great care from his earliest childhood, and saying that he hoped that he would surely not forget all these benefits, and that it was strange to be unkind to his daughter. But when these remarks were made to Genji, he answered nothing. Let us now change our subject. The Emperor, though he had already passed the meridian of life, was still fond of the society of the fair sex. And his Court was full of ladies who were well versed in the ways of the world. Some of these would occasionally amuse themselves by paying attentions to Genji. We will here relate the following amusing incident:-- There was at the Court a Naishi-no-Ske, who was already no longer young, and commonly called Gen-Naishi-no-Ske. Both her family and character were good. She was, however, in spite of her age, still coquettish, which was her only fault. Genji often felt amused at her being so young in temperament, and he enjoyed occasionally talking nonsense with her. She used to attend on the Emperor while his hair was being dressed. One day, after he had retired into his dressing-room, she remained in the other room, and was smoothing her own hair. Genji happened to pass by. He stole unperceived into the room, and slyly tugged the skirt of her robe. She started, and instinctively half concealed her face with an old-fashioned fan, and looked back at Genji with an arch glance in her sunken eyes. "What an unsuitable fan for you!" exclaimed Genji, and took it from her hand. It was made of reddish paper, apparently long in use, and upon it an ancient forest had been thickly painted. In a corner was written, in antique style, the following words:-- "On grasses old, 'neath forest trees, No steed will browse or swain delay, However real that grass may be, 'Tis neither good for food nor play." Genji was highly amused. "There are many things one might write on fans," thought he; "what made her think of writing such odd lines as these?" "Ah!" said Genji, "I see, 'its summer shade is still thick though!'"[74] While he was joking he felt something like nervousness in thinking what people might say if anyone happened to see him flirting with such an elderly lady. She, on her side, had no such fear. She replied-- "If beneath that forest tree, The steed should come or swain should be, Where that ancient forest grows, Is grass for food, and sweet repose." "What?" retorted Genji, "If my steed should venture near, Perhaps he'd find a rival there, Some one's steed full well, I ween, Rejoices in these pastures green." And quitted the room. The Emperor, who had been peeping unobserved into it, after he had finished his toilet, laughed heartily to himself at the scene. Tô-no-Chiûjiô was somehow informed of Genji's fun with this lady, and became anxious to discover how far he meant to carry on the joke. He therefore sought her acquaintance. Genji knew nothing of this. It happened on a cool summer evening that Genji was sauntering round the Ummeiden in the palace yard. He heard the sound of a _biwa_ (mandolin) proceeding from a veranda. It was played by this lady. She performed well upon it, for she was often accustomed to play it before the Emperor along with male musicians. It sounded very charming. She was also singing to it the "Melon grower." "Ah!" thought Genji, "the singing woman in Gakshoo, whom the poet spoke of, may have been like this one," and he stood still and listened. Slowly he approached near the veranda, humming slowly, as he went, "Adzmaya," which she soon noticed, and took up the song, "Do open and come in! but I do not believe you're in the rain, Nor that you really wish to come in." Genji at once responded, "Whose love you may be I know not, But I'll not stand outside your cot," and was going away, when he suddenly thought, "This is too abrupt!" and coming back, he entered the apartment. How great was the joy of Tô-no-Chiûjiô, who had followed Genji unperceived by him, when he saw this. He contrived a plan to frighten him, so he reconnoitred in order to find some favorable opportunity. The evening breeze blew chill, and Genji it appears was becoming very indifferent. Choosing this moment Tô-no-Chiûjiô slyly stepped forth to the spot where Genji was resting. Genji soon noticed his footsteps, but he never imagined that it was his brother-in-law. He thought it was Suri-no-Kami, a great friend of the lady. He did not wish to be seen by this man. He reproached her for knowing that he was expected, but that she did not give him any hint. Carrying his Naoshi on his arm, he hid himself behind a folding screen. Tô-no-Chiûjiô, suppressing a laugh, advanced to the side of the screen, and began to fold it from one end to the other, making a crashing noise as he did so. The lady was in a dilemma, and stood aloof. Genji would fain have run out, and concealed himself elsewhere, but he could not get on his Naoshi, and his head-dress was all awry. The Chiûjiô spoke not a word lest he should betray himself, but making a pretended angry expostulation, he drew his sword. All at once the lady threw herself at his feet, crying, "My lord! my lord!" Tô-no-Chiûjiô could scarcely constrain himself from laughing. She was a woman of about fifty seven, but her excitement was more like that of a girl of twenty. Genji gradually perceived that the man's rage was only simulated, and soon became aware who it was that was there; so he suddenly rushed out, and catching hold of Tô-no-Chiûjiô's sword-arm, pinched it severely. Tô-no-Chiûjiô no longer maintained his disguise, but burst into loud laughter. "How are you my friend, were you in earnest?" exclaimed Genji, jestingly--"but first let me put on my Naoshi." But Tô-no-Chiûjiô caught it, and tried to prevent him putting it on. "Then I will have yours," cried Genji, seizing the end of Tô-no-Chiûjiô's sash, and beginning to unfasten it, while the latter resisted. Then they both began to struggle, and their Naoshi soon began to tear. "Ah," cried Tô-no-Chiûjiô, "Like the Naoshi to the eye, Your secrets all discovered lie." "Well," replied Genji, "This secret if so well you know, Why am I now disturbed by you?" And they both quitted the room without much noticing the state of their garments. Tô-no-Chiûjiô proceeded to his official chamber, and Genji to his own apartment. The sash and other things which they had left behind them were soon afterwards sent to Genji by the lady. The sash was that of Tô-no-Chiûjiô. Its color was somewhat deeper than his own, and while he was looking at this, he suddenly noticed that one end of a sleeve of his own Naoshi was wanting. "Tô-no-Chiûjiô, I suppose, has carried it off, but I have him also, for here is his sash!" A page boy from Tô-no-Chiûjiô's office hereupon entered, carrying a packet in which the missing sleeve was wrapped, and a message advising Genji to get it mended before all things. "Fancy if I had not got this sash?" thought Genji, as he made the boy take it back to his master in return. In the morning they were in attendance at Court. They were both serious and solemn in demeanor, as it happened to be a day when there was more official business than on other days; Tô-no-Chiûjiô (who being chief of the Kurand, which office has to receive and despatch official documents) was especially much occupied. Nevertheless they were amused themselves at seeing each other's solemn gravity. In an interval, when free from duty, Tô-no-Chiûjiô came up to Genji and said, with envious eyes, "Have you not been a little scared in your private expedition?" when Genji replied, "No, why so? there was nothing serious in it; but I do sympathize with one who took so much useless trouble." They then cautioned each other to be discreet about the matter, which became afterwards a subject for laughter between them. Now even some Royal Princes would give way to Genji, on account of his father's favor towards him, but Tô-no-Chiûjiô, on the contrary, was always prepared to dispute with him on any subject, and did not yield to him in any way. He was the only brother of the Lady Aoi by the same Royal mother, with an influential State personage for their father, and in his eyes there did not seem to be much difference between himself and Genji. The incidents of the rivalry between them, therefore, were often very amusing, though we cannot relate them all. In the month of July the Princess Wistaria was proclaimed Empress. This was done because the Emperor had a notion of abdication in favor of the Heir-apparent and of making the son of the Princess Wistaria the Heir-apparent to the new Emperor, but there was no appropriate guardian or supporter, and all relations on the mother's side were of the Royal blood, and thereby disqualified from taking any active part in political affairs. For this reason the Emperor wished to make the position of the mother firmer. The mother of the Heir-apparent, whom this arrangement left still a simple Niogo, was naturally hurt and uneasy at another being proclaimed Empress. Indeed she was the mother of the Heir-apparent, and had been so for more than twenty years. And the public remarked that it was a severe trial for her to be thus superseded by another. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 71: Kalavinka, the beautifully singing holy birds in Paradise, to whose singing the voice of Buddha is compared.] [Footnote 72: On New Year's Eve, in Japan, some people fry peas, and throw them about the rooms, saying, "Avaunt, Devil, avaunt! Come in happiness!" This is called driving out devils.] [Footnote 73: An infant born to the Emperor is presented to him only when it has attained the age of some months.] [Footnote 74: From an old poem, "The shade of Ôaraki forest is thick: The summer has come there, the summer has come!" This is a mere metaphorical pun referring to her still being lively in spite of age.] CHAPTER VIII FLOWER-FEAST Towards the end of February the cherry flowers at the front of the Southern Palace were coming into blossom, and a feast was given to celebrate the occasion. The weather was most lovely, and the merry birds were singing their melody to the charms of the scene. All the Royal Princes, nobles and _literati_ were assembled, and among them the Emperor made his appearance, accompanied by the Princess Wistaria (now Empress) on the one side, and the Niogo of Kokiden, the mother of the Heir-apparent on the other; the latter having constrained herself to take part with her rival in the _fête_, in spite of her uneasiness at the recent promotion of that rival. When all the seats were taken the composing[75] of poems, as was the custom, commenced, and they began picking up the rhymes. The turn came in due course to Genji, who picked up the word spring. Next to Genji, Tô-no-Chiûjiô took his. Many more followed them, including several aged professors, who had often been present on similar occasions, with faces wrinkled by time, and figures bowed by the weight of years. The movements and announcements[76] both of Genji and his brother-in-law were elegant and graceful, as might be expected; but among those who followed there were not a few who showed awkwardness, this being more the case with scholars of ordinary accomplishments, since this was an epoch when the Emperor, the Heir-apparent and others of high distinction were more or less accomplished in these arts. Meanwhile, they all partook of the feast; the selected musicians joyfully played their parts, and as the sun was setting, "The Spring-lark Sings" (name of a dance) was danced. This reminded those present of Genji's dance at the maple _fête_, and the Heir-apparent pressed him to dance, at the same moment putting on his head a wreath of flowers. Upon this Genji stood up, and waving his sleeves, danced a little. Tô-no-Chiûjiô was next requested by the Emperor to do the same thing, and he danced the "Willow Flower Gardens" most elaborately, and was honored by the Emperor with a present of a roll of silk. After them, many young nobles danced indiscriminately, one after another, but we cannot give an opinion about them as the darkness was already gathering round. Lamps were at length brought, when the reading of the poems took place, and late in the evening all present dispersed. The palace grounds now became quite tranquil, and over them the moon shone with her soft light. Genji, his temper mellowed by _saké_, was tempted to take a stroll to see what he could see. He first sauntered round Fuji-Tsubo (the chamber of Wistaria) and came up by the side of the corridor of Kokiden. He noticed a small private door standing open. It seems that the Niogo was in her upper chamber at the Emperor's quarters, having gone there after she retired from the feast. The inner sliding door was also left open, and no human voice was heard from within. "Such are occasions on which one often compromises one's self," thought he, and yet slowly approached the entrance. Just at that moment he heard a tender voice coming toward him, humming, "Nothing so sweet as the _oboro_[77] moon-night." Genji waited her approach, and caught her by the sleeve. It made her start. "Who are you?" she exclaimed. "Don't be alarmed," he replied, and gently led her back to the corridor. He then added, "Let us look out on the moonlight together." She was, of course, nervous, and would fain have cried out. "Hush," said he; "know that I am one with whom no one will interfere; be gentle, and let us talk a little while." These words convinced her that it was Prince Genji, and calmed her fears. It appears that he had taken more _saké_ than usual, and this made him rather reckless. The girl, on the other hand, was still very young, but she was witty and pleasantly disposed, and spent some time in conversing with him. He did not yet know who she was, and asked, "Can't you let me know your name? Suppose I wish to write to you hereafter?" But she gave no decided answer; so Genji, after exchanging his fan with hers, left her and quietly returned to his apartments. Genji's thoughts were now directed to his new acquaintance. He was convinced that she was one of the younger sisters of the Niogo. He knew that one of them was married to a Prince, one of his own relations, and another to his brother-in-law, Tô-no-Chiûjiô. He was perfectly sure that his new acquaintance was not either of these, and he presumed her to be the fifth or sixth of them, but was not sure which of these two. "How can I ascertain this?" he thought. "If I compromise myself, and her father becomes troublesome, that won't do; but yet I must know." The fan which he had just acquired was of the color of cherry. On it was a picture representing the pale moon coming out of a purple cloud, throwing a dim light upon the water. To Genji this was precious. He wrote on one side the following, and kept it carefully, with a longing for the chance of making it useful:-- "The moon I love has left the sky, And where 'tis hid I cannot tell; I search in vain, in vain I try To find the spot where it may dwell." Now, it so happened that on a certain day at the end of March, an archery meeting was to be held at Udaijin's, in which numerous noble youths were to be present, and which was to be succeeded by the Wistaria flower-feast. The height of the flower season was past, but there were two cherry-trees, besides the Wistaria in the gardens, which blossomed later. A new building in the ground, which had been decorated for the occasion of the Mogi[78] of the two Princesses, was being beautifully arranged for this occasion. Genji also had been told one day at Court by Udaijin that he might join the meeting. When the day came Genji did not arrive early. Udaijin sent by one of his sons the following haughty message to Genji, who was at the time with the Emperor:-- "If the flowers of my home were of every-day hue, Why should they so long a time have tarried for you?" Genji at once showed this to the Emperor, asking whether he had better go. "Ah!" said the latter, smiling, "This is from a great personage. You had better go, I should think; besides there are the Princesses there." Thereupon he prepared to go, and made his appearance late in the afternoon. The party was very pleasant, although the archery-match was almost finished, and several hours were spent in different amusements. As twilight fell around, Genji affected to be influenced by the _saké_ he had taken, left the party, and went to that part of the Palace where the Princesses lived. The Wistaria flowers in the gardens could also be seen from this spot, and several ladies were looking out on them. "I have been too much pressed. Let me take a little quiet shelter here," said Genji, as he joined them. The room was nicely scented with burning perfume. There he saw his two half-sisters and some others with whom he was not acquainted. He was certain that the one he wished to ascertain about was among them, but from the darkness of the advancing evening he was unable to distinguish her. He adopted a device for doing so. He hummed, as he looked vacantly around, the "Ishi-kawa,"[79] but instead of the original line, "My belt being taken," artfully, and in an arch tone, substituted the word "fan" for "belt." Some were surprised at this change, while others even said, "What a strange Ishi-kawa!" One only said nothing, but looked down, and thus betrayed herself as the one whom he was seeking, and Genji was soon at her side. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 75: Composing poems in Chinese was a principal part of the feast. The form of it is this, a Court scholar selects in obedience to Imperial command, the subject, and then writes different words on pieces of paper and places them on a table in the gardens, folded up. Two of these are first picked out for the Emperor, and then each one after another, according to precedence, goes to the table, takes one, and these words form their rhymes.] [Footnote 76: It was also the custom, when each had taken his paper, to read it aloud, and also to announce his particular title or station.] [Footnote 77: "Oboro" is an adjective meaning calm, and little glaring, and is specially attributed to the moon in spring. The line is from an old ode.] [Footnote 78: The ceremony of girls putting on a dress marking the commencement of womanhood, corresponding to the Gembuk in the case of boys. These princesses were the daughters of the Niogo of Kokiden. It was the custom that royal children should be brought up at the home of the mother.] [Footnote 79: Name of a well-known ballad.] CHAPTER IX HOLLYHOCK The Emperor has at last abdicated his throne, as he has long intended, in favor of the Heir-apparent, and the only child of the Princess Wistaria is made Heir-apparent to the new Emperor. The ex-Emperor now lived in a private palace with this Princess in a less royal style; and the Niogo of Kokiden, to whom was given the honorary title of ex-Empress, resided in the Imperial Palace with the Emperor, her son, and took up a conspicuous position. The ex-Emperor still felt some anxiety about the Heir-apparent, and appointed Genji as his guardian, as he had not yet a suitable person for that office. This change in the reigning Emperor, and the gradual advancement of Genji's position, gave the latter greater responsibility, and he had to restrain his wandering. Now, according to usage, the Saigû[80] and Saiin[81] were selected; for the latter the second sister of the Emperor was chosen, and for the former the only daughter of the Lady of Rokjiô, whose husband had been a Royal Prince. The day of the departure of the Saigû for Ise was not yet fixed; and the mind of her mother, who had some reasons for dissatisfaction with Genji, was still wavering in her indecision, whether or not she should go to Ise with her daughter. The case of the Saiin, however, was different, and the day of her installation was soon fixed. She was the favorite child of her mother as well as of her father, and the ceremonies for the day of consecration were arranged with especial splendor. The number of persons who take a share in the procession on this occasion is defined by regulations; yet the selection of this number was most carefully made from the most fashionable of the nobles of the time, and their dresses and saddles were all chosen of beautiful appearance. Genji was also directed by special order to take part in the ceremony. As the occasion was expected to be magnificent, every class of the people showed great eagerness to witness the scene, and a great number of stands were erected all along the road. The day thus looked forward to at last arrived. Lady Aoi seldom showed herself on such occasions; besides, she was now in a delicate state of health, near her confinement, and had, therefore, no inclination to go out. Her attendants, however, suggested to her that she ought to go. "It is a great pity," they said, "not to see it; people come from a long distance to see it." Her mother also said, "You seem better to-day. I think you had better go. Take these girls with you." Being pressed in this way, she hastily made up her mind, and went with a train of carriages. All the road was thronged by multitudes of people, many dressed in a style which is called Tsubo-Shôzok. Many of great age prostrated themselves in an attitude of adoration, and many others, notwithstanding their natural plainness, looked almost blooming, from the joy expressed in their countenances--nay, even nuns and aged women, from their retreats, were to be seen amongst them. Numerous carriages were also squeezed closely together, so that the broad thoroughfare of the Ichijiô road was made almost spaceless. When, however, the carriages of the Lady Aoi's party appeared, her attendants ordered several others to make way, and forced a passage to the spot where the best view could be obtained, and where the common people were not allowed. Among these happened to be two _ajiro_[82] carriages, and their inmates were plainly incognito and persons of rank. These belonged to the party of the Lady of Rokjiô. When these carriages were forced to give place, their attendants cried out, "These carriages do not belong to people who ought to be so abruptly forced away." But the attendants of the Lady Aoi, who were slightly under the influence of drink, would not listen to their expostulations, and they at last made their way and took up their position, pushing the other two back where nothing could be seen, even breaking their poles. The lady so maltreated was of course extremely indignant, and she would fain have gone home without seeing the spectacle, but there was no passage for retiring. Meanwhile the approach of the procession was announced, and only this calmed her a little. Genji was as usual conspicuous in the procession. There were several carriages along the roads on whose occupants his glance was cast; that of Lady Aoi, however, was the most striking, and as he passed by the attendants saluted him courteously, which act Genji acknowledged. What were the feelings of the Lady of Rokjiô, who had been driven back, at this moment! In due course the procession passed, and the exciting scene of the day was over. The quarrels about the carriage naturally came to the ears of Genji. He thought that Lady Aoi was too modest to be the instigator of such a dispute; but her house was one of great and powerful families famous for overweening pride, a tendency shared by its domestics; and they, for other motives, also of rivalry, were glad to have an opportunity of mortifying the Lady of Rokjiô. He felt for the wounded lady, and hastened to see her; but she, under some pretext, refused to see him. The day of the hollyhock _fête_ of the same temple came. It was especially grand, as it was the first one after the installation of the new Saiin, but neither Lady Aoi or the Lady of Rokjiô was present, while Genji privately took Violet with him in a close carriage to see the festival, and saw the horse-races. We have already mentioned that the mind of the Lady of Rokjiô was still wavering and unsettled whether or not she should go to Ise with her daughter; and this state of mind became more and more augmented and serious after the day of the dispute about the carriages, which made her feel a bitter disdain and jealousy towards the Lady Aoi. Strange to say, that from about the same time, Lady Aoi became ill, and began to suffer from spiritual influences. All sorts of exorcisms were duly performed, and some spirits came forth and gave their names. But among them was a spirit, apparently a "living one,"[83] which obstinately refused to be transmitted to the third party. It caused her great suffering, and seemed not to be of a casual nature, but a permanent hostile influence. Some imagined this to be the effect of fearful jealousy of some one who was intimately known to Genji and who had most influence over him; but the spirit gave no information to this effect. Hence some even surmised that the wandering spirit of some aged nurse, or the like, long since dead, still haunted the mansion, and might have seized the opportunity of the lady's delicate health, and taken possession of her. Meanwhile at the mansion of Rokjiô, the lady, when she was informed of the sufferings of Lady Aoi, felt somewhat for her, and began to experience a sort of compassion. This became stronger when she was told that the sufferings of the Lady Aoi were owing to some living spirit. She thought that she never wished any evil to her; but, when she reflected, there were several times when she began to think that a wounded spirit, such as her own, might have some influence of the kind. She had sometimes dreams, after weary thinking, between slumber and waking, in which she seemed to fly to some beautiful girl, apparently Lady Aoi, and to engage in bitter contention and struggle with her. She became even terrified at these dreams; but yet they took place very often. "Even in ordinary matters," she thought, "it is too common a practice, to say nothing of the good done by people, but to exaggerate the bad; and so, in such cases, if it should be rumored that mine was that living spirit which tormented Lady Aoi, how trying it would be to me! It is no rare occurrence that one's disembodied spirit, after death, should wander about; but even that is not a very agreeable idea. How much more, then, must it be disagreeable to have the repute that one's living spirit was inflicting pain upon another!" These thoughts still preyed upon her mind, and made her listless and depressed. In due course, the confinement of Lady Aoi approached. At the same time, the jealous spirit still vexed her, and now more vigorous exorcising was employed. She became much affected by it, and cried out, "Please release me a little; I have something to tell the Prince." Hereupon he was ushered into the room. The curtain was dropped, and the mother of the lady left the room, as she thought her daughter might prefer to speak to him in private. The sound of the spells performed in the next chamber ceased, and Hoke-kiô was read in its place. The lady was lying on her couch, dressed in a pure white garment, with her long tresses unfastened. He approached her, and taking her hand, said: "What sad affliction you cause us!" She then lifted her heavy eyelids, and gazed on Genji for some minutes. He tried to soothe her, and said, "Pray don't trouble yourself too much about matters. Everything will come right. Your illness, I think, will soon pass away. Even supposing you quit this present world, there is another where we shall meet, and where I shall see you once more cheerful, and there will be a time when your mother and father will also join you." "Ah! no. I only come here to solicit you to give me a little rest. I feel extremely disturbed. I never thought of coming here in such a way; but it seems the spirit of one whose thoughts are much disconcerted wanders away unknown even to itself. Oh, bind my wandering spirit, pray, Dear one, nor let it longer stray." The enunciation of these words was not that of Lady Aoi herself; and when Genji came to reflect, it clearly belonged to the Lady of Rokjiô. Always before, when anyone had talked with him about a living spirit coming to vex Lady Aoi, he felt inclined to suppress such ideas; but now he began to think that such things might really happen, and he felt disturbed. "You speak thus," said Genji, as if he was addressing the spirit, "but you do not tell me who you are. Do, therefore, tell me clearly." At these words, strange to say, the face of the Lady Aoi seemed momentarily to assume the likeness of that of Rokjiô. On this, Genji was still more perplexed and anxious, and put a stop to the colloquy. Presently she became very calm, and people thought that she was a little relieved. Soon after this, the lady was safely delivered of a child. Now, to perform due thanksgiving for this happy deliverance, the head of the monastery on Mount Hiye and some other distinguished priests were sent for. They came in all haste, wiping off the perspiration from their faces as they journeyed; and, from the Emperor and Royal princes down to the ordinary nobles, all took an interest in the ceremony of Ub-yashinai (first feeding), and the more so as the child was a boy. To return to the Lady of Rokjiô. When she heard of the safe delivery of Lady Aoi, a slightly jealous feeling once more seemed to vex her; and when she began to move about, she could not understand how it was, but she perceived that her dress was scented with a strange odor.[84] She thought this most surprising, and took baths and changed her dress, in order to get rid of it; but the odor soon returned, and she was disgusted with herself. Some days passed, and the day of autumn appointments arrived. By this time, Lady Aoi's health seemed progressing favorably, and Genji left her in order to attend the Court. When he said good-by to her, there was a strange and unusual look in her eyes. Sadaijin also went to Court, as well as his sons, who had some expectation of promotion, and there were few people left in the mansion. It was in the evening of that day that Lady Aoi was suddenly attacked by a spasm, and before the news of this could be carried to the Court, she died. These sad tidings soon reached the Court, and created great distress and confusion: even the arrangements for appointments and promotion were disturbed. As it happened late in the evening there was no time to send for the head of the monastery, or any other distinguished priest. Messengers of inquiry came one after another to the mansion, so numerous that it was almost impossible to return them all answers. We need not add how greatly affected were all her relations. As the death took place from a malign spiritual influence, she was left untouched during two or three days, in the hope that she might revive; but no change took place, and now all hope was abandoned. In due course the corpse was taken to the cemetery of Toribeno. Numerous mourners and priests of different churches crowded to the spot, while representatives of the ex-Emperor, Princess Wistaria, and the Heir-apparent also were present. The ceremony of burial was performed with all solemnity and pathos. Thus the modest and virtuous Lady Aoi passed away forever. Genji forthwith confined himself to his apartment in the grand mansion of Sadaijin, for mourning and consolation. Tô-no-Chiûjiô, who was now elevated to the title of Sammi, constantly bore him company, and conversed with him both on serious and amusing subjects. Their struggle in the apartment of Gen-naishi, and also their rencontre in the garden of the "Saffron Flower," were among the topics of their consoling conversation. It was on one of these occasions that a soft shower of rain was falling. The evening was rendered cheerless, and Tô-no-Chiûjiô came to see him, walking slowly in his mourning robes of a dull color. Genji was leaning out of a window, his cheek resting on his hand; and, looking out upon the half-fading shrubberies, was humming-- "Has she become rain or cloud? 'Tis now unknown." Tô-no-Chiûjiô gently approached him. They had, as usual, some pathetic conversation, and then the latter hummed, as if to himself-- "Beyond the cloud in yonder sky, From which descends the passing rain, Her gentle soul may dwell, Though we may cease to trace its form in vain." This was soon responded to by Genji:-- "That cloudy shrine we view on high, Where my lost love may dwell unseen, Looks gloomy now to this sad eye That looks with tears on what has been." There was among the faded plants of the garden a solitary Rindô-nadeshko.[85] When Tô-no-Chiûjiô had gone, Genji picked this flower, and sent it to his mother-in-law by the nurse of the infant child, with the following:-- "In bowers where all beside are dead Survives alone this lovely flower, Departed autumn's cherished gem, Symbol of joy's departed hour."[86] Genji still felt lonely. He wrote a letter to the Princess Momo-zono (peach-gardens). He had known her long. He admired her, too. She had been a spectator, with her father, on the day of the consecration of the Saiin, and was one of those to whom the appearance of Genji was most welcome. In his letter he stated that she might have a little sympathy with him in his sorrow, and he also sent with it the following:-- "Many an autumn have I past In gloomy thought, but none I ween Has been so mournful as the last, Which rife with grief and change hath been." There was, indeed, nothing serious between Genji and this princess; yet, as far as correspondence was concerned, they now and then exchanged letters, so she did not object to receiving this communication. She felt for him much, and an answer was returned, in which she expressed her sympathy at his bereavement. Now, in the mansion of Sadaijin every performance of requiem was celebrated. The forty-ninth day had passed, and the mementoes of the dead, both trifling and valuable, were distributed in a due and agreeable manner; and Genji at length left the grand mansion with the intention of first going to the ex-Emperor, and then of returning to his mansion at Nijiô. After his departure, Sadaijin went into the apartment occupied till lately by him. The room was the same as before, and everything was unchanged; but his only daughter, the pride of his old days, was no more, and his son-in-law had gone too. He looked around him for some moments. He saw some papers lying about. They were those on which Genji had been practising penmanship for amusement--some in Chinese, others in Japanese; some in free style, others in stiff. Among these papers he saw one on which the words "Old pillows and old quilts" were written, and close to these the following:-- "How much the soul departed, still May love to linger round this couch, My own heart tells me, even I Reluctant am to leave it now." And on another of these papers, accompanying the words, "The white frost lies upon the tiles," the following:-- "How many more of nights shall I On this lone bed without thee lie; The flower has left its well-known bed, And o'er its place the dews are shed." As Sadaijin was turning over these papers a withered flower, which seems to have marked some particular occasion, dropped from amongst them. Return we now to Genji. He went to the ex-Emperor, to whom he still seemed thin and careworn. He had some affectionate conversation with him, remained till evening, and then proceeded to his mansion at Nijiô. He went to the western wing to visit the young Violet. All were habited in new winter apparel, and looked fresh and blooming. "How long it seems since I saw you!" he exclaimed. Violet turned her glance a little aside. She was apparently shy, which only increased her beauty. He approached, and after having a little conversation, said, "I have many things to say to you, but now I must have a little rest," and returned to his own quarters. The next morning, first of all he sent a letter to Sadaijin's, making inquiry after his infant child. At this time he confined himself more than usual to his own house, and for companionship he was constantly with Violet, who was now approaching womanhood. He would sometimes talk with her differently from the manner in which he would speak to a mere girl; but on her part she seemed not to notice the difference, and for their daily amusement either Go or Hentski[87] was resorted to, and sometimes they would play on till late in the evening. Some weeks thus passed away, and there was one morning when Violet did not appear so early as usual. The inmates of the house, who did not know what was the reason, were anxious about her, thinking she was indisposed. About noon Genji came. He entered the little room, saying, "Are you not quite well? Perhaps you would like to play at Go again, like last night, for a change;" but she was more than ever shy. "Why are you so shy?" he exclaimed; "be a little more cheerful--people may think it strange," said he, and stayed with her a long time trying to soothe her; but to no effect--she still continued silent and shy. This was the evening of Wild Boar's day, and some _mochi_ (pounded rice cake) was presented to him, according to custom, on a tray of plain white wood. He called Koremitz before him and said, "To-day is not a very opportune day; I would rather have them to-morrow evening. Do send in some to-morrow.[88] It need not be of so many colors." So saying, he smiled a little, and sharp Koremitz soon understood what he meant. And this he accordingly did on the morrow, on a beautiful flower-waiter. Up to this time nothing about Violet had been publicly known, and Genji thought it was time to inform her father about his daughter; but he considered he had better have the ceremony of Mogi first performed, and ordered preparations to be made with that object. Let us here notice that the young daughter of Udaijin, after she saw Genji, was longing to see him again. This inclination was perceived by her relations. It seems that her father was not quite averse to this liking, and he told his eldest daughter, the reigning Emperor's mother, that Genji was recently bereaved of his good consort, and that he should not feel discontented if his daughter were to take the place of Lady Aoi; but this the royal mother did not approve. "It would be far better for her to be introduced at Court," she said, and began contriving to bring this about. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 80: The sacred virgin of the temple of Ise.] [Footnote 81: The same of Kamo, which is situated in the neighborhood of Kiôto, the then capital.] [Footnote 82: "Ajiro" means woven bamboo, and here it signifies a carriage made of woven bamboo.] [Footnote 83: Before proceeding with the story, it is necessary for the reader to peruse the following note: In Japan there existed, and still more or less exists, a certain superstition which is entertained, that the spirits of the dead have the power of inflicting injury on mankind; for instance, a woman when slighted or deserted, dies, her spirit often works evil on the man who forsook her, or on her rival. This is the spirit of the dead. There is also another belief that the spirits of the living have sometimes the same power, but in this case it only takes place when one is fiercely jealous. When this spirit works upon the rival, the owner of the spirit is not aware of it; but she herself becomes more gloomy, as if she had, as it were, lost her own spirit. These spirits can be exorcised, and the act is performed by a certain sect of priests; but the living one is considered far more difficult to exorcise than the other, because it is imagined that the dead spirit can be easily "laid," or driven back to the tomb, while the living one, being still in its present state, cannot be settled so easily. The method of exorcism is as follows: Certain spells are used on the sufferer, and certain religious addresses are read from the Buddhist bibles, and then the sufferer is made to speak out all his subjects of complaint; but it is supposed not to be the man himself who speaks and tells these causes of complaint, but the spirit of which he is possessed. This process is sometimes performed on a third party; in that case the priest temporarily transmits the spirit from the sufferer to the substitute and makes it speak with his mouth. When he has told all the causes of his complaint and wrongs, the priest sometimes argues with him, sometimes chides, sometimes soothes, and sometimes threatens, and at last says to the spirit, "If you do not go out quietly, I will confine you by my sacred power." By such means the spirit is exorcised; the process resembles mesmerism in some points, but of course has no sensible foundation. In other cases the spirits of those who have either recently, or even years before, met with cruel wrongs or death, may in their wanderings seize upon some person in the vicinity, though totally unconnected with the crime done upon them, and may cause them suffering, or even spirits, who from any cause, are unable to obtain rest, may do the same thing.] [Footnote 84: In the ceremony of exorcism a sacred perfume is burnt, and it was this scent which the Lady of Rokjiô perceived in her garment because her spirit was supposed to go to and fro between herself and Lady Aoi, and to bring with it the smell of this perfume.] [Footnote 85: A kind of pink; some translate it Gentian.] [Footnote 86: Here the flower is compared to the child, and autumn to the mother.] [Footnote 87: "Hentski," a children's game. It consists in choosing beforehand a "hen" or half-character, opening a book and seeing which of the players can most quickly pick out the words beginning with this "hen."] [Footnote 88: It seemed to have been the ancient custom, that on the third night of a wedding, the same kind of rice cake, but only of one color, was served up.] CHAPTER X DIVINE TREE The departure of the Saigû, the daughter of the Lady of Rokjiô, for her destination in the Temple of Ise, which was postponed from time to time, owing to different circumstances, was at length arranged to take place in September. This definite arrangement delighted the Saigû, to whom the uncertainty of the event had been somewhat tiresome. Her mother also made up her mind to accompany her to the temple. Although there was no precedent for the mother of the Saigû accompanying her daughter, this lady made up her mind to do so, because she would not allow her young daughter to go alone. In a suburban field the "field palace" was built.[89] It was of wood, and surrounded by a fence of newly cut branches of trees. In front stood a huge _torii_[90] of logs, and within the compound were the quarters of the Kandzkasa.[91] Here the Saigû took up her residence, where her mother also accompanied her. When the sixteenth of September, which was fixed for the departure, arrived, the ceremony of her last consecration was duly performed on the banks of the River Katzra, whence the sacred virgin went to the Imperial Palace to have the farewell audience with the Emperor. She was accompanied by her mother. The father of the latter had been a great personage of State, and she had been married to a Royal Prince at sixteen, when there had been every possibility of her coming to the Court in a position far superior to what she now enjoyed. She was, however, bereaved of him at the age of twenty; and now at thirty she comes to take leave at her departure for a far-off province with her only daughter. The Saigû was about fourteen years of age, was extremely delicate and fair to look upon, and when presented to the Emperor he was struck by the charms of her youthful appearance. Numerous carriages were ranged at the front of eight State departments to see her off in state, besides many others along the road, full of spectators. Late in the afternoon her party left the palace, and turned away from Nijiô round to the highway of Tôin, and passed by the mansion of Genji, who witnessed their passing, and sent the following to the lady-mother with a twig of Sakaki (divine tree):-- "Bravely you quit this scene, 'tis true; But though you dauntless fly so far, Your sleeve may yet be wet with dew, Before you cross Suzukah."[92] The answer to this was sent to him from beyond the barrier of Ausaka (meeting-path) in the following form:-- "Whether my sleeve be wet or not, In the waters of the Suzukah, Who will care? Too soon forgot Will Ise be that lies so far." And thus the Lady of Rokjiô and her daughter disappear for some time from our scenes in the capital. It was about this time that the ex-Emperor was indisposed for some time, and in October his state became precarious. The anxiety of the public was general, and the Emperor went to visit him. Notwithstanding his weakness, the former gave him every injunction, first about the Heir-apparent, then about Genji, and said:-- "Regard him as your adviser, both in large and small matters, without reserve, and not otherwise than if I were still alive. He is not incapable of sharing in the administration of public affairs, notwithstanding his youth. He has a physiognomy which argues great qualities, and for this reason, I made him remain in an ordinary position, without creating him a Royal Prince, with the object that he should be able to take part in public affairs. Do not misconstrue these ideas." There were some more injunctions given of like nature relating to public matters, and the Emperor sorrowfully and repeatedly assured him that he would not neglect them. Such, however, are not subjects which we women are supposed to understand, and even thus much that I have mentioned is given not without some apprehension. A few days after the visit of the Emperor the Heir-apparent was brought before his dying father. There had been some idea that he should be brought on the day when the Emperor paid his visit, but it was postponed to avoid any possible confusion. The boy Prince was apparently more pleased at seeing his father than concerned at his illness. To him the ex-Emperor told many things, but he was too young to heed them. Genji was also present, and the ex-Emperor explained to him in what way he should serve the Government, and how he should look after this young Prince. When their interview concluded it was already merging towards the evening, and the young Prince returned to the palace. The Royal mother of the reigning Emperor (formerly Koki-den-Niogo) would also have visited the ex-Emperor but for her repugnance to encounter the Princess Wistaria, who never left his side. In the course of a few days the strength of the Emperor began to decline, and at last he quietly and peacefully passed away. And now the Court went into general mourning, and Genji, being one of the principal mourners, put on a dress of Wistaria cloth;[93] so frequently did misfortune fall on him in the course of a few years, and his cares became really great. The funeral and the weekly requiems were performed with all due pomp and ceremony, and when the forty-ninth day had passed, all the private household of his late Majesty dispersed in the midst of the dreary weather of the latter part of December to their own homes; the Princess Wistaria retiring to her own residence in Sanjiô, accompanied by her brother, Prince Hiôbkiô. True, it is that his late Majesty had been for some time off the throne, but his authority had by no means diminished on that account. But his death now altered the state of things, and the ascendancy of the family of Udaijin became assured. The people in general entertained great fear that infelicitous changes would take place in public affairs, and among these Genji and the Princess Wistaria were the most disturbed by such anxieties. The new year came in, but nothing joyful or exciting accompanied its presence--the world was still. Genji kept himself to his mansion. In those days, when his father was still in power, his courtyard was filled with the carriages of visitors, especially when the days of the appointments were approaching; but now this was changed, and his household secretaries had but little to occupy them. In January the Princess Momo-zono (peach-gardens) was chosen for the Saiin, of the Temple of Kamo, her predecessor having retired from office, on account of the mourning for her father, the late ex-Emperor. There were not many precedents for Princesses of the second generation being appointed to this position; but this Princess was so chosen, owing, it seems, to the circumstance that there was no immediate issue of the Imperial blood suitable for this office. In February the youngest daughter of the Udaijin became the Naishi-no-Kami,[94] in the place of the former one, who had left office and become a nun after the death of the ex-Emperor. She took up her residence in the Kokiden, which was till lately occupied by her sister, the Empress-mother, who at this period spent most of her time at her father's, and who when she came to the Court made the Ume-Tsubo (the plum-chamber) her apartment. Meanwhile the Empress-mother, who was by nature sagacious and revengeful, and who during the late Emperor's life had been fain to disguise her spiteful feelings, now conceived designs of vengeance against those who had been adverse to her; and this spirit was directed especially against Genji and his father-in-law, Sadaijin--against the latter because he had married his only daughter to Genji against the wishes of the Emperor when Heir-apparent, and because during the life of the late Emperor his influence eclipsed that of her father, Udaijin, who had long been his political adversary. The Emperor, it is true, never forgot the dying injunctions of his father, and never failed in sympathy with Genji; but he was still young, with a weak mind, and therefore he was under the influence of his mother and grandfather, Udaijin, and was often constrained by them in his actions to go contrary to his own wishes. Such being the state of things, Sadaijin seldom appeared at Court, and his loss of influence became manifest. Genji, too, had become less adventurous and more steady in his life; and in his mansion Violet became the favorite object of attraction, in whose behalf the ceremony of Mogi had been duly performed some time before, and who had been presented to her father. The latter had for a long time regarded her as lost, and even now he never forgave the way in which his daughter had been taken away by Genji. The summer had passed without any particular events, and autumn arrived. Genji, wishing to have a little change, went to the monastery of Unlinin,[95] and spent some days in the chamber of a rissh (discipline-master), who was a brother of his mother. Maple-trees were changing their tints, and the beautiful scenery around this spot made him almost forget his home. His daily amusement was to gather together several monks, and make them discuss before him. He himself perused the so-called "sixty volumes,"[96] and would get the monks to explain any point which was not clear to his understanding. When he came to reflect on the various circumstances taking place in the capital, he would have preferred remaining in his present retirement; but he could not forget one whom he had left behind there, and this caused him to return. After he had requested a splendid expiatory service to be performed, he left the monastery. The monks and the neighbors came to see him depart. His carriage was still black, and his sleeves were still of Wistaria, and in this gloomy state he made his return to his mansion in Nijiô. He brought back some twigs of maple, whose hues, when compared with those in his own garden, he perceived were far more beautiful. He, therefore, sent one of these to the residence of Princess Wistaria, who had it put in a vase, and hung at the side of her veranda. Next day he went to the Imperial Palace, to see his brother the Emperor, who was passing a quiet and unoccupied leisure, and soon entered into a pleasant conversation on matters both past and present. This Emperor, it must be remembered, was a person of quiet ways and moderate ambition. He was kind in heart, and affectionate to his relatives. His eyes were shut to the more objectionable actions of Genji. He talked with him on different topics of literature, and asked his opinions on different questions. He also talked on several poetical subjects, and on the news of the day--of the departure of the Saigû. The conversation then led to the little Prince, the Heir-apparent. The Emperor said, "Our father has enjoined me to adopt him as my son, and to be kind to him in every way; but he was always a favorite of mine, and this injunction was unnecessary, for I could not be any more particularly kind to him. I am very glad that he is very clever for his age in penmanship and the like." Genji replied, "Yes, I also notice that he is of no ordinary promise; but yet we must admit that his ability may be only partial." After this conversation Genji left. On his way he came across a nephew of the Empress-mother, who seems to have been a person of rather arrogant and rough character. As he crossed Genji's path he stopped for a minute, and loudly reciting, "The white rainbow crossed the sun, And the Prince was frightened,"[97] passed on. Genji at once understood what it was intended for, but prudently proceeded on his way homeward without taking any notice of it. Let us now proceed to the Princess Wistaria. Since she had been bereaved of the late Emperor she retired to her private residence. She fully participated in all those inglorious mortifications to which Genji and his father-in-law were subjected. She was convinced she would never suffer such cruel treatment as that which Seki-Foojin[98] did at the hands of her rival, but she was also convinced that some sort of misfortune was inevitable. These thoughts at last led her to determine to give up the world. The fortune of her child, however, had been long a subject of anxiety to her; and though she had determined to do so, the thought of him had affected her mind still more keenly. She had hitherto rarely visited the Court, where he was residing; for her visits might be unpleasing to the feelings of her rival, the other ex-Empress, and prejudicial to his interests. However, she now went there unceremoniously, in order to see him before she carried out her intention to retire. In the course of her chatting with him, she said, "Suppose, that while I do not see you for some time, my features become changed, what would you think?" The little Prince, who watched her face, replied, "Like Shikib?[99]--no--that can't be." The Princess smiled a little, and said, "No, that is not so; Shikib's is changed by age, but suppose mine were different from hers, and my hair became shorter than hers, and I wore a black dress like a chaplain-in-waiting, and I could not see you often, any longer." And she became a little sad, which made the Prince also a little downcast. Serene was his face, and finely pencilled were his eyebrows. He was growing up fast, and his teeth were a little decayed and blackened,[100] which gave a peculiar beauty to his smile, and the prettiness of his appearance only served to increase her regret; and with a profound pensiveness she returned to her residence. In the middle of December she performed Mihakkô (a grand special service on the anniversary of death), which she was carefully preparing for some days. The rolls of the Kiô (Buddhist Bible) used for this occasion were made most magnificently--the spindle of jade, the covering of rich satin, and its case of woven bamboo ornamented likewise, as well as the flower-table. The first day's ceremony was for her father, the second for her mother, and the third for the late Emperor. Several nobles were present, and participated, Genji being one of them. Different presents were made by them all. At the end of the third day's performance her vows of retirement were, to the surprise of all, announced by the priest. At the conclusion of the whole ceremony, the chief of the Hiye monastery, whom she had sent for, arrived, and from whom she received the "commandments." She then had her hair cut off by her uncle, Bishop of Yokogawa. These proceedings cast a gloom over the minds of all present, but especially on those of Hiôb-Kiô, her brother, and Genji; and soon after every one departed for his home. Another New Year came in, and the aspect of the Court was brighter. A royal banquet and singing dances were soon expected to take place, but the Princess Wistaria no longer took any heed of them, and most of her time was devoted to prayer in a new private chapel, which she had had built expressly for herself in her grounds. Genji came to pay his New Year's visit on the seventh day, but he saw no signs of the season. All nobles who used to pay visits of felicitation, now shunned her house and gathered at the mansion of Udaijin, near her own. The only things which caught Genji's attention in her mansion was a white horse,[101] which was being submitted to her inspection as on former occasions. When he entered, he noticed that all the hangings of the room and the dresses of the inmates were of the dark hues of conventual life. The only things that there seemed to herald spring, were the melting of the thin ice on the surface of the lake, and the budding of the willows on its banks. The scene suggested many reflections to his mind; and, after the usual greetings of the season, and a short conversation, he quitted the mansion. It should be here noticed that none of her household officers received any promotion or appointment to any sinecure office, or honorary title, even where the merit of the individual deserved it, or the Court etiquette required it. Nay, even the proper income for her household expenses was, under different pretexts, neglected. As for the Princess, she must have been prepared for such inevitable consequences of her giving up the world; but it ought not to be taken as implying that the sacrifice should be so great. Hence these facts caused much disappointment to her household, and the mind of the Princess herself was sometimes moved by feelings of mortification. Nevertheless, troubled about herself no longer, she only studied the welfare and prosperity of her child, and persevered in the most devout prayers for this. She also remembered a secret sin, still unknown to the world, which tormented the recesses of her soul, and she was constantly praying to Buddha to lighten her burden. About the same time, tired of the world, both public and private, Sadaijin sent in his resignation. The Emperor had not forgotten how much he was respected by the late ex-Emperor, how the latter had enjoined him always to regard him as a support of the country, and he several times refused to accept his resignation; but Sadaijin persevered in his request, and confined himself to his own mansion. This gave complete ascendancy to the family of Udaijin. All the sons of Sadaijin, who formerly had enjoyed considerable distinction at Court, were now fast sinking into insignificance, and had very little influence. Tô-no-Chiûjiô, the eldest of them, was one of those affected by the change of circumstances. True, he was married to the fourth daughter of Udaijin; but he passed little time with her, she still residing with her father, and he was not among the favorite sons-in-law. His name was also omitted in the appointment list on promotion day, which seems to have been intended by his father-in-law as a warning. Under such circumstances he was constantly with Genji, and they studied and played together. They both well remembered how they used to compete with each other in such matters as studying and playing, and they still kept their rivalry alive. They would sometimes send for some scholars, and would compose poems together, or play the "Covering Rhymes."[102] They seldom appeared at Court, while in the outer world different scandals about them were increasing day by day. One day in summer Tô-no-Chiûjiô came to pay his usual visit to Genji. He had brought by his page several interesting books, and Genji also ordered several rare books from his library. Many scholars were sent for, in such a manner as not to appear too particular; and many nobles and University students were also present. They were divided into two parties, the right and the left, and began betting on the game of "Covering Rhymes." Genji headed the right, and Tô-no-Chiûjiô the left. To his credit the former often hit on the most difficult rhymes, with which the scholars were puzzled. At last the left was beaten by the right, consequently Tô-no-Chiûjiô gave an entertainment to the party, as arranged in their bet. They also amused themselves by writing prose and verse. Some roses were blossoming in front of the veranda, which possessed a quiet charm different from those of the full season of spring. The sight of these afforded them a delightful enjoyment while they were partaking of refreshment. A son of Tô-no-Chiûjiô, about eight or nine years old, was present. He was the second boy by his wife, Udaijin's daughter, and a tolerable player on the Sôh-flute. Both his countenance and disposition were amiable. The party was in full enjoyment when the boy rose and sang "Takasago" (high sand).[103] When he proceeded to the last clause of his song, "Oh, could I see that lovely flower, That blossomed this morn!" Tô-no-Chiûjiô offered his cup to Genji, saying, "How glad am I to see your gentleness, Sweet as the newly blooming flower!" Genji, smiling, took the cup as he replied, "Yet that untimely flower, I fear, The rain will beat, the wind will tear, Ere it be fully blown." And added, "Oh, I myself am but a sere leaf." Genji was pressed by Tô-no-Chiûjiô to take several more cups, and his humor reached its height. Many poems, both in Chinese and Japanese, were composed by those present, most of whom paid high compliment to Genji. He felt proud, and unconsciously exclaimed, "The son of King Yuen, the brother of King Mu;" and would have added, "the King Ching's ----"[104] but there he paused. To describe the scene which followed at a time such as this, when every mind is not in due equilibrium, is against the warning of Tsurayuki, the poet, so I will here pass over the rest. Naishi-no-Kami, the young daughter of Udaijin, now retired to her home from the Court, having been attacked by ague; and the object of her retirement was to enjoy rest and repose, as well as to have spells performed for her illness. This change did her great good, and she speedily recovered from the attack. We had mentioned before that she always had a tender yearning for Genji, and she was the only one of her family who entertained any sympathy or good feeling towards him. She had seen, for some time, the lack of consideration and the indifference with which he was treated by her friends, and used to send messages of kind inquiry. Genji, on his part also, had never forgotten her, and the sympathy which she showed towards him excited in his heart the most lively appreciation. These mutual feelings led at length to making appointments for meeting during her retirement. Genji ran the risk of visiting her secretly in her own apartments. This was really hazardous, more especially so because her sister, the Empress-mother, was at this time staying in the same mansion. We cannot regard either the lady or Genji as entirely free from the charge of imprudence, which, on his part, was principally the result of his old habits of wandering. It was on a summer's evening that Genji contrived to see her in her own apartment, and while they were conversing, a thunderstorm suddenly broke forth, and all the inmates got up and ran to and fro in their excitement. Genji had lost the opportunity of escape, and, besides, the dawn had already broken. When the storm became lighter and the thunder ceased, Udaijin went first to the room of his royal daughter, and then to that of Naishi-no-Kami. The noise of the falling rain made his footsteps inaudible, and all unexpectedly he appeared at the door and said: "What a storm it has been! Were you not frightened?" This voice startled both Genji and the lady. The former hid himself on one side of the room, and the latter stepped forth to meet her father. Her face was deeply flushed, which he soon noticed. He said, "You seem still excited; is your illness not yet quite passed?" While he was so saying he caught sight of the sash of a man's cloak, twisted round her skirt. "How strange!" thought he. The next moment he noticed some papers lying about, on which something had been scribbled. "This is more strange!" he thought again; and exclaimed, "Whose writings are these?" At this request she looked aside, and all at once noticed the sash round her skirt, and became quite confused. Udaijin was a man of quiet nature; so, without distressing her further, bent down to pick up the papers, when by so doing he perceived a man behind the screen, who was apparently in great confusion and was endeavoring to hide his face. However, Udaijin soon discovered who he was, and without any further remarks quitted the room, taking the papers with him. The troubled state of Genji and the lady may be easily imagined, and in great anxiety he left the scene. Now it was the character of Udaijin that he could never keep anything to himself, even his thoughts. He therefore went to the eldest daughter--that is, the Empress-mother, and told her that he had found papers which clearly were in the handwriting of Genji, and that though venturesomeness is the characteristic of men, such conduct as that which Genji had indulged in was against all propriety. "People said," continued Udaijin, "that he was always carrying on a correspondence with the present Saiin. Were this true, it would not only be against public decorum, but his own interest; although I did not entertain any suspicion before." When the sagacious Empress-mother heard this, her anger was something fearful. "See the Emperor," she said; "though he is Emperor, how little he is respected! When he was Heir-apparent, the ex-Sadaijin, not having presented his daughter to him, gave her to Genji, then a mere boy, on the eve of his Gembuk; and now this Genji boldly dares to carry on such intrigues with a lady who is intended to be the Royal consort! How daring, also, is his correspondence with the sacred Saiin! On the whole, his conduct, in every respect, does not appear to be as loyal as might be expected, and this only seems to arise from his looking forward to the ascent of the young Prince to the throne." Udaijin somehow felt the undesirability of this anger, and he began to change his tone, and tried to soothe her, saying: "You have some reason for being so affected; yet don't disclose such matters to the public, and pray don't tell it to the Emperor. It is, of course, an impropriety on the part of the Prince, but we must admit that our girl, also, would not escape censure. We had better first warn her privately among ourselves; and if the matter does not even then come all right, I will myself be responsible for that." The Empress-mother, however, could not calm her angry feelings. It struck her as a great disrespect to her dignity, on Genji's part, to venture to intrude into the very mansion where she was staying. And she began to meditate how to turn this incident into a means of carrying out the design which she had been forming for some time. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 89: A temporary residence expressly built for the Saigû to undergo purification.] [Footnote 90: A peculiar gate erected in front of the sacred places.] [Footnote 91: Shinto priests.] [Footnote 92: Name of a river of the province of Ise, which the travellers had to cross.] [Footnote 93: A dress made of the bark of the Wistaria was worn by those who were in deep mourning for near relatives.] [Footnote 94: This was an office held by a Court lady, whose duty it was to act as a medium of communication in the transmitting of messages between the Emperor and State officials.] [Footnote 95: It is said that the tomb of the authoress of this work is to be found at this spot.] [Footnote 96: In the Tendai sect of Buddhists there are sixty volumes of the theological writings which are considered most authoritative for their doctrine.] [Footnote 97: A passage of a Chinese history. The story is, that a Prince of a certain Chinese kingdom contrived to have assassinated an Emperor, his enemy. When he sent off the assassin this event took place. The allusion here seems to imply the allegation that Genji intended high treason.] [Footnote 98: She was the favorite of the first Emperor of the Hung dynasty in China, and the rival of the Empress. When the Emperor died, the Empress, a clever and disdainful woman, revenged herself by cutting off her feet, and her arms, and making away with her son.] [Footnote 99: This seems to have been the name of an aged attendant.] [Footnote 100: Among Japanese children it often happens that the milk teeth become black and decayed, which often gives a charm to their expression.] [Footnote 101: It was the custom to show a white horse on the seventh day of the new year to the Empress, the superstition being that this was a protestation against evil spirits.] [Footnote 102: A game consisting in opening Chinese poetry books and covering the rhymes, making others guess them.] [Footnote 103: Name of a ballad.] [Footnote 104: In Chinese history it is recorded that in giving an injunction to his son, Duke Choau, a great statesman of the eleventh century B.C., used these words: "I am the son of King Yuen, the brother of King Mu, and the uncle of King Ching; but I am so ready in receiving men in any way distinguished, that I am often interrupted three times at my dinner, or in my bath." It would seem that Genji, in the pride of his feeling, unconsciously made the above quotation in reference to himself.] CHAPTER XI VILLA OF FALLING FLOWERS The troubles of Genji increased day by day, and the world became irksome to him. One incident, however, deserves a brief notice before we enter into the main consequences of these troubles. There was a lady who had been a Niogo at the Court of the late ex-Emperor, and who was called Reikeiden-Niogo, from the name of her chamber. She had borne no child to him, and after his death she, together with a younger sister, was living in straitened circumstances. Genji had long known both of them, and they were often aided by the liberality with which he cheerfully assisted them, both from feelings of friendship, and out of respect to his late father. He, at this time, kept himself quiet at his own home, but he now paid these ladies a visit one evening, when the weather, after a long-continued rain, had cleared up. He conversed with them on topics of past times until late in the evening. The waning moon threw her faint light over the tall trees standing in the garden, which spread their dark shadows over the ground. From among them an orange-tree in full blossom poured forth its sweet perfume, and a Hototo-gisu[105] flew over it singing most enchantingly. "'Ah! how he recollects his own friend!'" said Genji, and continued:-- "To this home of 'falling flower,' The odors bring thee back again, And now thou sing'st, in evening hour, Thy faithful loving strain." To this the elder lady replied:-- "At the home where one lives, all sadly alone, And the shadow of friendship but seldom is cast, These blossoms reach the bright days that are gone And bring to our sadness the joys of the past." And, after a long and friendly conversation, Genji returned to his home. One may say that the character of Genji was changeable, it is true, yet we must do him justice for his kind-heartedness to his old acquaintances such as these two sisters, and this would appear to be the reason why he seldom estranged the hearts of those whom he liked. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 105: The name of a small bird which appears about the time when the orange trees are in blossom. It sings, and is most active in the evening. In poetry, therefore, the orange blossom and this bird are associated, and they are both, the blossom and the bird, emblems of old memories.] CHAPTER XII EXILE AT SUMA Genji at last made up his mind to undergo a voluntary exile, before the opinion of the Imperial Court should be publicly announced against him. He heard that the beautiful sea-coast along Suma was a most suitable place for retirement, and that, though formerly populous, there were now only a few fishermen's dwellings scattered here and there. To Suma he finally determined to go into voluntary exile. When he had thus made up his mind he became somewhat regretful to leave the capital, although it had hitherto appeared ungenial. The first thing which disturbed his mind was the young Violet, whom he could not take with him. The young lady, also, in the "Villa of Falling Flowers" (notwithstanding that he was not a frequent visitor) was another object of his regret. In spite of these feelings he prepared to set off at the end of March, and at length it came within a few days of the time fixed for his departure, when he went privately, under the cover of the evening, to the mansion of the ex-Sadaijin, in an ajiro carriage, generally used by women. He proceeded into the inner apartments, where he was greeted by the nurse of his little child. The boy was growing fast, was able to stand by this time and to toddle about, and run into Genji's arms when he saw him. The latter took him on his knee, saying, "Ah! my good little fellow, I have not seen you for some time, but you do not forget me, do you?" The ex-Sadaijin now entered. He said, "Often have I thought of coming to have a talk with you, but you see my health has been very bad of late, and I seldom appear at Court, having resigned my office. It would be impolitic to give cause to be talked about, and for it to be said that I stretch my old bones when private matters please me. Of course, I have no particular reason to fear the world; still, if there is anything dreadful, it is the demagogical world. When I see what unpleasant things are happening to you, which were no more probable than that the heavens should fall, I really feel that everything in the world is irksome to me." "Yes, what you say is indeed true," replied Genji. "However, all things in the world--this or that--are the outcome of what we have done in our previous existence. Hence if we dive to the bottom we shall see that every misfortune is only the result of our own negligence. Examples of men's losing the pleasures of the Court are, indeed, not wanting. Some of these cases may not go so far as a deprivation of titles and honors, as is mine;[106] still, if one thus banished from the pleasures of Court, behaves himself as unconcernedly as those to whom no such misfortune has happened, this would not be becoming. So, at least, it is considered in a foreign country. Repentance is what one ought to expect in such circumstances, and banishment to a far-off locality is a measure generally adopted for offences different from ordinary ones. If I, simply relying on my innocence, pass unnoticed the recent displeasure of the Court, this would only bring upon me greater dishonor. I have, therefore, determined to go into voluntary exile, before receiving such a sentence from the Court." Then the conversation fell back, as usual, on the times of the late ex-Emperor, which made them sad; while the child also, who innocently played near, made them still more gloomy. The ex-Sadaijin went on to say:--"There is no moment when I ever forget the mother of the boy, but now I almost dare to think that she was fortunate in being short lived, and being free from witnessing the dreamlike sorrow we now suffer. With regard to the boy, the first thing which strikes me as unbearable is that he may pass some time of his lovely childhood away from the gaze of your eyes. There are, as you say, no want of instances of persons suffering a miserable fate, without having committed any real offence; yet still, in such cases, there was some pretext to justify their being so treated. I cannot see any such against you." While he was thus speaking Tô-no-Chiûjiô joined them, and, partaking of _saké_, they continued their conversation till late in the evening. This night Genji remained in the mansion. Early the next morning he returned to his own residence, and he spent the whole day with Violet in the western wing. It should here be noticed that she was scarcely ever with her father, even from childhood. He strongly disapproved of his daughter being with Genji, and of the way in which she had been carried off, so he scarcely ever had any communication with her, or did he visit her. These circumstances made her feel Genji's affection more keenly than she otherwise would have; hence her sorrow at the thought of parting with him in a few days may be easily imagined. Towards the evening Prince Sotz came with Tô-no-Chiûjiô and some others to pay him a visit. Genji, in order to receive them, rose to put on one of his Naoshi, which was plain, without pattern, as proper for one who had no longer a title. Approaching the mirror, to comb his hair, he noticed that his face had grown much thinner. "Oh, how changed I appear," he exclaimed. "Am I really like this image which I see of myself?" he said, turning to the girl, who cast on him a sad and tearful glance. Genji continued:-- "Though changed I wander far away, My soul shall still remain with you, Perhaps in this mirror's mystic ray, My face may linger still in view." To this Violet replied:-- "If in this mirror I could see, Always your face, then it would be My consolation when thou art gone." As she said this she turned her face to one side of the room, and by doing so obscured the tears gathering in her soft eyes. Genji then left her to receive his friends, who, however, did not remain long, leaving the mansion after a short conversation of a consolatory nature. This evening Genji paid his visit to the sisters of the "Falling Flower" villa. On the following day the final arrangements necessary for his household affairs were made at his residence. The management of the mansion was intrusted to a few confidential friends; while that of his lands and pasture, and the charge of his documents, were intrusted to the care of Violet, to whom he gave every instruction what she should do. Besides, he enjoined Shiônagon, in whom he placed his confidence, to give her every assistance. He told all the inmates who wished to remain in the mansion, in order to await his return, that they might do so. He also made an appropriate present to the nurse of his boy, and to the ladies of the "Villa of Falling Flowers." When all these things were accomplished, he occupied himself in writing farewell letters to his intimate friends, such as the young daughter of Udaijin and others, to none of whom he had paid a visit. On the evening prior to his departure he went on horseback to visit the tomb of his father. On his way he called on the Princess Wistaria, and thence proceeded to the mountain where the remains reposed. The tomb was placed among tall growing grass, under thick and gloomy foliage. Genji advanced to the tomb, and, half kneeling down before it, and half sobbing, uttered many words of remembrance and sorrow. Of course no reply came forth. The moon by this time was hidden behind dark clouds, and the winds blew keen and nipping, when suddenly a shadowy phantom of the dead stood before Genji's eyes. "How would his image look on me, Knew he the secret of the past; As yonder moon in clouded sky, Looks o'er the scene mysteriously." He returned to his mansion late in the night. Early in the morning he sent a letter to Ô Miôbu, the nurse of the Heir-apparent, in which he said: "I at last leave the capital, to-day. I know not when I may come and see the Prince again. On him my thoughts and anxieties are concentrated, above all else. Realize these feelings in your own mind, and tell them to him." He also sent the following, fastened to a bough of cherry flowers, already becoming thin:-- "When shall I see these scenes again, And view the flowers of spring in bloom, Like rustic from his mountain home, A mere spectator shall I come?" These were carefully read by Ô Miôbu to the Prince, and when he was asked what she should write in answer, he said: "Write that I said that since I feel every longing to see him, when I do not see him for a long time, how shall I feel when he goes away altogether?" Thereupon she wrote an answer, in which she indefinitely stated that she had shown the letter to the Prince, whose answer was simple, yet very affectionate, and so on, with the following:-- "'Tis sad that fair blossoms so soon fade away, In the darkness of winter no flower remains, But let spring return with its sunshiny ray, Then once more the flowers we look on again." Now, with regard to the recent disgrace of Genji, the public in general did not approve of the severity which the Court had shown to him. Moreover, he had been constantly with the Emperor, his father, since the age of seven, and his requests had been always cheerfully listened to by the latter; hence there were very many, especially among public servants of the ordinary class, who were much indebted to him. However, none of them now came to pay their respects to him. It seems that in a world of intrigue none dares do what is right for fear of risking his own interests. Such being the state of things, Genji, during the whole day, was unoccupied, and the time was entirely spent with Violet. Then, at his usual late hour in the evening, he, in a travelling dress of incognito, at length left the capital, where he had passed five-and-twenty years of his life. His attendants, Koremitz and Yoshikiyo being among them, were seven or eight in number. He took with him but little luggage. All ostentatious robes, all unnecessary articles of luxury were dispensed with. Among things taken, was a box containing the works of Hak-rak-ten (a famous Chinese poet), with other books, and besides these a _kin-koto_ for his amusement. They embarked in a boat and sailed down the river. Early the next morning they arrived at the sea-coast of Naniwa. They noticed the Ôye Palace standing lonely amidst the group of pine trees. The sight of this palace gave a thrill of sadness to Genji, who was now leaving, and not returning, home. He saw the waves rolling on the coast and again sweep back. He hummed, as he saw them:-- "The waves roll back, but unlike me, They come again." From Naniwa they continued their voyage, sailing in the bay. As they proceeded they looked back on the scenes they had left. They saw all the mountains veiled in haze, growing more and more distant, while the rowers gently pulled against the rippling waves. It seemed to them as if they were really going "three thousand miles' distance."[107] "Our home is lost in the mist of the mountain, Let us gaze on the sky which is ever the same." The day was long and the wind was fair, so they soon arrived at the coast of Suma.[108] The place was near the spot where the exiled Yukihira had lived, and had watched the beautiful smoke rising from the salt ovens. There was a thatched house in which the party temporarily took up their residence. It was a very different home from what they had been used to, and it might have appeared even novel, had the circumstances of their coming there been different. The authorities of the neighborhood were sent for, and a lodge was built under the direction of Yoshikiyo, in accordance with Genji's wishes. The work was hurried on, and the building was soon completed. In the garden, several trees, cherries and others, were planted, and water was also conducted into it. Here Genji soon took up his abode. The Governor of the province, who had been at Court, secretly paid attention to the Prince, with as much respect as was possible. For some time Genji did not feel settled in his new residence. When he had become in some degree accustomed to it, the season of continuous rain had arrived (May); his thoughts more than ever reverted to the old capital. The thoughtful expression of Violet's face, the childish affection of the Heir-apparent, and the innocent playfulness of his little son, became the objects of his reveries and anxiety, nor did he forget his old companions and acquaintances. He, therefore, sent a special messenger to the capital bearing his letters, so that speedy answers might be returned from every quarter. He also sent a messenger to Ise to make inquiry after the lady, who also sent one to him in return. Now the young daughter of Udaijin had been remaining repentingly in the mansion of her father since the events of the stormy evening. Her father felt much for her, and interceded with the Empress-mother in her behalf, and also with her son, that is, the Emperor, thus getting permission to introduce her once more into Court, an event which took place in the month of July. To return to Suma. The rainy season had passed, and autumn arrived. The sea was at some distance from the residence of Genji, but the dash of its waves sounded close to their ears as the winds passed by, of which Yukihira sang, "The autumn wind which passes the barrier of Suma." The autumn winds are, it seems, in such a place as this, far more plaintive than elsewhere. It happened one evening that when all the attendants were fast asleep Genji was awake and alone. He raised his head and rested his arms on his pillow and listened to the sound of the waves which reached his ear from a distance. They seemed nearer than ever, as though they were coming to flood his pillows. He drew his _koto_ towards him and struck a melancholy air, as he hummed a verse of a poem in a low tone. With this every one awoke and responded with a sigh. Such was a common occurrence in the evening, and Genji always felt saddened whenever he came to think that all his attendants had accompanied him, having left their families and homes simply for his sake. In the daytime, however, there were changes. He would then enjoy pleasant conversations. He also joined several papers into long rolls on which he might practise penmanship. He spent a good deal of time in drawing and sketching. He remembered how Yoshikiyo, on one occasion in Mount Kurama, had described the beautiful scenery of the place on which he was now gazing. He sketched every beautiful landscape of the neighborhood, and collected them in albums, thinking how nice it would be if he could send for Tsunenori, a renowned contemporary artist, and get him to paint the sketches which he had made. Out of all the attendants of Genji there were four or five who had been more especially his favorites, and who had constantly attended on him. One evening they were all sitting together in a corridor which commanded a full view of the sea. They perceived the island of Awaji lying in the distance, as if it were floating on the horizon, and also several boats with sailors, singing as they rowed to the shore over the calm surface of the water, like waterfowl in their native element. Over their heads flocks of wild geese rustled on their way homeward with their plaintive cry, which made the thoughts of the spectators revert to their homes. Genji hummed this verse:-- "Those wandering birds above us flying, Do they our far-off friends resemble. With their voice of plaintive crying Make us full of thoughtful sighing." Yoshikiyo took up the idea and replied:-- "Though these birds no friends of ours Are, and we to them are nought, Yet their voice in these still hours Bring those old friends to our thought." Then Koremitz continued:-- "Before to-day I always thought They flew on pleasure's wing alone, But now their fate to me is fraught With some resemblance to our own." Ukon-no-Jiô added:-- "Though we, like them, have left our home To wander forth, yet still for me There's joy to think where'er I roam My faithful friends are still with me." Ukon-no-Jiô was the brother of Ki-no-Kami. His father, Iyo-no-Kami, had now been promoted to be Hitachi-no-Kami (Governor of Hitachi), and had gone down to that province, but Ukon-no-Jiô did not join his father, who would have gladly taken him, and faithfully followed Genji. This evening happened to be the fifteenth of August, on which day a pleasant reunion is generally held at the Imperial Palace. Genji looked at the silvery pale sky, and as he did so the affectionate face of the Emperor, his brother, whose expression strikingly resembled their father's, presented itself to his mind. After a deep and long sigh, he returned to his couch, humming as he went:-- "Here is still a robe His Majesty gave to me." It should be here noticed that he had been presented by the Emperor on a certain occasion with a robe, and this robe he had never parted with, even in his exile. About this time Daini (the senior Secretary of the Lord-Lieutenant of Kiûsiû) returned to the capital with his family, having completed his official term. His daughter had been a virgin dancer, and was known to Genji. They preferred to travel by water, and slowly sailed up along the beautiful coast. When they arrived at Suma, the distant sound of a _kin_[109] was heard, mingled with the sea-coast wind, and they were told that Genji was there in exile. Daini therefore sent his son Chikzen-no-Kami to the Prince with these words: "Coming back from a distant quarter I expected as soon as I should arrive in the capital to have had the pleasure of visiting you and listening to your pleasant voice, and talking of events which have taken place there, but little did I think that you had taken up your residence in this part of the country. How greatly do I sympathize with you! I ought to land and see you at once, but there are too many people in the same boat, therefore I think it better to avoid the slightest grounds which may cause them to talk. However, possibly I shall pay you a visit soon." This Chikzen-no-Kami had been for some time previously a Kurand (a sort of equerry) to Genji, therefore his visit was especially welcome to him. He said that since he had left the capital it had become difficult to see any of his acquaintances, and that therefore this especial visit was a great pleasure to him. His reply to the message of Daini was to the same effect. Chikzen-no-Kami soon took his leave, and returning to the boat, reported to his father and others all he had seen. His sister also wrote to Genji privately thus: "Pray excuse me if I am too bold. Know you not the mind is swayed Like the tow-rope of our boat, At the sounds your Kin has made, Which around us sweetly float." When Genji received this, his pleasure was expressed by his placid smile, and he sent back the following:-- "If this music moves the mind So greatly as you say, No one would care to leave behind These lonely waves of Suma's bay." This recalls to our mind that there was in the olden time an exile who gave a stanza even to the postmaster of a village.[110] Why then should not Genji have sent to her whom he knew this stanza? In the meantime, as time went on, more sympathizers with Genji were found in the capital, including no less a personage than the Emperor himself. True it is that before Genji left, many even of his relatives and most intimate friends refrained from paying their respects to him, but in the course of time not a few began to correspond with him, and sometimes they communicated their ideas to each other in pathetic poetry. These things reached the ears of the Empress-mother, who was greatly irritated by them. She said: "The only thing a man who has offended the Court should do is to keep himself as quiet as possible. It is most unpardonable that such a man should haughtily cause scandal to the Court from his humble dwelling. Does he intend to imitate the treacherous example of one who made a deer pass for a horse?[111] Those who intrigue with such a man are equally blamable." These spiteful remarks once more put a stop to the correspondence. Meanwhile, at Suma, the autumn passed away and winter succeeded, with all its dreariness of scene, and with occasional falls of snow. Genji often spent the evening in playing upon the Kin, being accompanied by Koremitz's flute and the singing of Yoshikiyo. It was on one of these evenings that the story of a young Chinese Court lady, who had been sent to the frozen land of barbarians, occurred to Genji's mind. He thought what a great trial it would be if one were obliged to send away one whom he loved, like the lady in the tale, and as he reflected on this, with some melancholy feelings, it appeared to him as vividly as if it were only an event of yesterday, and he hummed:-- "The sound of the piper's distant strain Broke on her dreams in the frozen eve." He then tried to sleep, but could not do so, and as he lay the distant cry of Chidori reached his ears.[112] He hummed again as he heard them:-- "Although on lonely couch I lie Without a mate, yet still so near, At dawn the cries of Chidori, With their fond mates, 'tis sweet to hear." Having washed his hands, he spent some time in reading a Kiô (Sutra), and in this manner the winter-time passed away. Towards the end of February the young cherry-trees which Genji had planted in his garden blossomed, and this brought to his memory the well-known cherry-tree in the Southern Palace, and the _fête_ in which he had taken part. The noble countenance of the late ex-Emperor, and that of the present one, the then Heir-apparent, which had struck him much at that time, returned to his recollection with the scene where he had read out his poem. "While on the lordly crowd I muse, Which haunts the Royal festive hours, The day has come when I've put on The crown of fairest cherry flowers." While thus meditating on the past, strange to say, Tô-no-Chiûjiô, Genji's brother-in-law, came from the capital to see the Prince. He had been now made Saishiô (privy councillor). Having, therefore, more responsibility, he had to be more cautious in dealing with the public. He had, however, a personal sympathy with Genji, and thus came to see him, at the risk of offending the Court. The first thing which struck his eyes was, not the natural beauty of the scenery, but the style of Genji's residence, which showed the novelty of pure Chinese fashion. The enclosure was surrounded by "a trellis-work of bamboo," with "stone steps," and "pillars of pine-tree."[113] He entered, and the pleasure of Genji and Tô-no-Chiûjiô was immense, so much so that they shed tears. The style of the Prince's dress next attracted the attention of Tô-no-Chiûjiô. He was habited in a plain, simple country style, the coat being of an unforbidden color, a dull yellow, the trousers of a subdued green. The furniture was all of a temporary nature, with Go and Sugorok playing boards, as well as one for the game of Dagi. He noticed some articles for the services of religion, showing that Genji was wont to indulge in devotional exercises. The visitor told Genji many things on the subject of affairs in the capital, which he had been longing to impart to him for many months past; telling him also how the grandfather of his boy always delighted in playing with him, and giving him many more interesting details. Several fishermen came with the fish which they had caught. Genji called them in and made them show their spoils. He also led them to talk of their lives spent on the sea, and each in his own peculiar local dialect gave him a narration of his joys and sorrows. He then dismissed them with the gift of some stuff to make them clothing. All this was quite a novelty to the eyes of Tô-no-Chiûjiô, who also saw the stable in which he obtained a glimpse of some horses. The attendants at the time were feeding them. Dinner was presently served, at which the dishes were necessarily simple, yet tasteful. In the evening they did not retire to rest early, but spent their time in continuing their conversation and in composing verses. Although Tô-no-Chiûjiô had, in coming, risked the displeasure of the Court, he still thought it better to avoid any possible slander, and therefore he made up his mind to set out for his home early next morning. The _saké_ cup was offered, and they partook of it as they hummed, "In our parting cup, the tears of sadness fall." Several presents had been brought from the capital for Genji by Tô-no-Chiûjiô, and, in return, the former made him a present of an excellent dark-colored horse, and also a celebrated flute, as a token of remembrance. As the sun shed forth his brilliant rays Tô-no-Chiûjiô took his leave, and as he did so he said, "When shall I see you again, you cannot be here long?" Genji replied, "Yon noble crane that soars on high,[114] And hovers in the clear blue sky, Believe my soul as pure and light; As spotless as the spring day bright. However, a man like me, whose fortune once becomes adverse seldom regains, even in the case of great wisdom, the prosperity he once fully enjoyed, and so I cannot predict when I may find myself again in the capital." So Tô-no-Chiûjiô, having replied as follows:-- "The crane mounts up on high, 'tis true, But now he soars and cries alone, Still fondly thinking of his friend, With whom in former days he flew," set off on his homeward road, leaving Genji cast down for some time. Now the coast of Akashi is a very short distance from Suma, and there lived the former Governor of the province, now a priest, of whom we have spoken before. Yoshikiyo well remembered his lovely daughter, and, after he came to Suma with Genji, he wrote to her now and then. He did not get any answer from her, but sometimes heard from her father, to whom Genji's exile became soon known, and who wished to see him for a reason not altogether agreeable to himself. It should be remembered that this old man always entertained aspirations on behalf of his daughter, and in his eyes the successive governors of the province who came after him, and whose influence had been unbounded, were considered as nobodies. To him, his young daughter was everything; and he used to send her twice a year to visit the temple of Sumiyoshi, in order that she might obtain good fortune by the blessing of the god. She was not of an ideal beauty, but yet expressive in countenance and exalted in mind. She could, in this respect, rival any of those of high birth in the capital. The priest said one day to his wife, "Prince Genji, the imperial son of the Kôyi of Kiritsubo is now at Suma in exile, having offended the Court. How fortunate it would be if we could take the opportunity of presenting our child to him!" The wife replied, "Ah, how dreadful, when I heard what the townspeople talk, I understood that he has several mistresses. He went even so far as to carry on a secret intimacy, which happened to be obnoxious to the Emperor, and it is said that this offence was the cause of his exile." "I have some reason for mentioning this to you," he interrupted, impatiently; "it is not a thing which you understand, so make up your mind, I shall bring the matter about, and take an opportunity of making him come to us." "No matter how distinguished a personage he is," replied the wife, "it is a fact that he has offended the Court and is exiled. I do not understand why you could take a fancy to such a man for our maiden daughter. It is not a joking matter. I hope you will take it into graver consideration." "That a man of ability and distinction should meet with adverse fortune is a very common occurrence," said he, still more obstinately, "both in our empire and in that of China. How then do you venture to say such things against the Prince? His mother was the daughter of an Azechi Dainagon, who was my uncle. She enjoyed a good reputation, and when she was introduced at Court, became both prosperous and distinguished. Although her life was shortened by the suffering caused by the fierce jealousy of her rivals, she left behind the royal child, who is no other person than Prince Genji. A woman should always be aspiring, as this lady was. What objection then is there in the idea of introducing our only child to a man like him? Although I am now only a country gentleman, I do not think he would withdraw his favor from me." Such were the opinions of this old man, and hence his discouragement of the advances of Yoshikiyo. The first of March came, and Genji was persuaded by some to perform Horai (prayer for purification) for the coming occasion of the Third.[115] He therefore sent for a calendar-priest, with whom he went out, accompanied by attendants, to the sea-shore. Here a tent was erected ceremoniously, and the priest began his prayers, which were accompanied by the launching of a small boat, containing figures representing human images. On seeing this Genji said, "Never thought I, in my younger day, To be thrown on the wild sea-shore, And like these figures to float away, And perhaps see my home no more." As he contemplated the scene around him, he perceived that the wild surface of the sea was still and calm, like a mirror without its frame. He offered prayers in profound silence, and then exclaimed, "Oh, all ye eight millions of gods,[116] hear my cry, Oh, give me your sympathy, aid me, I pray, For when I look over my life, ne'er did I Commit any wrong, or my fellows betray." Suddenly, as he spoke these words, the wind arose and began to blow fiercely. The sky became dark, and torrents of rain soon followed. This caused great confusion to all present, and each ran back to the house without finishing the ceremony of prayers. None of them were prepared for the storm, and all got drenched with the rain. From this the rain continued to pour down, and the surface of the sea became as it were tapestried with white, over which the lightning darted and the thunder rolled. It seemed as if thunderbolts were crashing overhead, and the force of the rain appeared to penetrate the earth. Everyone was frightened, for they thought the end of the world was near. Genji occupied his time in quietly reading his Buddhist Bible. In the evening, the thunder became less loud, though the wind still blew not less violently than in the daytime. Everyone in the residence said that they had heard of what is termed a flood-tide, which often caused a great deal of damage, but they had never witnessed such a scene as they had that day. Genji dropped off into a slumber, when indistinctly the resemblance of a human figure came to him and said, "You are requested to come to the palace, why don't you come?" Genji was startled by the words, and awoke. He thought that the king of the dragon palace[117] might have admired him, and was perhaps the author of this strange dream. These thoughts made him weary of remaining at Suma. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 106: When a person was exiled, he was generally deprived of his own title, or was degraded. Genji appears to have been deprived of his.] [Footnote 107: A favorite phrase in Chinese poems describing the journey of exile.] [Footnote 108: Suma is about sixty miles from Kiôto, the then capital.] [Footnote 109: A musical instrument--often called a _koto._] [Footnote 110: When Sugawara, before referred to, arrived at Akashi, on his way to exile, the village postmaster expressed his surprise. Thereupon Sugawara gave him a stanza, which he composed: "Oh, master, be not surprised to see This change in my estate, for so Once to bloom, and once to fade Is spring and autumn's usual lot." ] [Footnote 111: In Chinese history it is recounted that a certain artful intriguer made a fool of his Sovereign by bringing a deer to the Court and presenting it before the Emperor, declaring it to be a horse. All the courtiers, induced by his great influence, agreed with him in calling it a horse, to the Emperor's great astonishment and bewilderment.] [Footnote 112: The coast along by Suma is celebrated for Chidori, a small sea-bird that always flies in large flocks. Their cries are considered very plaintive, and are often spoken of by poets.] [Footnote 113: Expressions used in a poem by Hak-rak-ten, describing a tasteful residence.] [Footnote 114: Here Tô-no-Chiûjiô is compared to the bird.] [Footnote 115: The third day of March is one of five festival days in China and Japan, when prayers for purification, or prayers intended to request the freeing one's self from the influence of fiends, are said on the banks of a river.] [Footnote 116: In the Japanese mythology the number of gods who assemble at their councils is stated to have been eight millions. This is an expression which is used to signify a large number rather than an exact one.] [Footnote 117: In Japanese mythology we have a story that there were two brothers, one of whom was always very lucky in fishing, and the other in hunting. One day, to vary their amusements, the former took his brother's bow and arrows and went to the mountain to hunt. The latter took the fishing-rod, and went to the sea, but unfortunately lost his brother's hook in the water. At this he was very miserable, and wandered abstractedly along the coast. The dragon god of the dragon palace, under the blue main, admired his beauty, and wishing him to marry his daughter, lured him into the dragon palace.] CHAPTER XIII EXILE AT AKASHI The storm and thunder still continued for some days, and the same strange dream visited Genji over and over again. This made him miserable. To return to the capital was not yet to be thought of, as to do so before the imperial permission was given, would only be to increase his disgrace. On the other hand, to render himself obscure by seeking further retreat was also not to be thought of, as it might cause another rumor that he had been driven away by mere fear of the disturbed state of the ocean. In the meantime, a messenger arrived from the capital with a letter from Violet. It was a letter of inquiry about himself. It was written in most affectionate terms, and stated that the weather there was extremely disagreeable, as rain was pouring down continuously, and that this made her especially gloomy in thinking of him. This letter gave Genji great pleasure. The messenger was of the lowest class. At other times Genji would never have permitted such sort of people to approach him, but under the present circumstances of his life he was only too glad to put up with it. He summoned the man to his presence, and made him talk of all the latest news in the capital. The messenger told him, in awkward terms, that in the capital these storms were considered to be a kind of heavenly warning, that a Nin-wô-ye[118] was going to be held; and that many nobles who had to go to Court were prevented from doing so by the storms, adding that he never remembered such violent storms before. From the dawn of the next day the winds blew louder, the tide flowed higher, and the sound of the waves resounded with a deafening noise. The thunder rolled and the lightning flashed, while everyone was trembling in alarm, and were all, including Genji, offering up prayers and vows to the God of Sumiyoshi, whose temple was at no great distance, and also to other gods. Meanwhile a thunderbolt struck the corridor of Genji's residence and set fire to it. The Prince and his friends retired to a small house behind, which served as a kitchen. The sky was as if blackened with ink, and in that state of darkness the day ended. In the evening the wind gradually abated, the rain diminished to a thin shower, and even the stars began to blink out of the heavens. This temporary retreat was now irksome, and they thought of returning to their dwelling quarters, but they saw nothing but ruins and confusion from the storm, so they remained where they were. Genji was occupied in prayer. The moon began to smile from above, the flow of the tide could be seen, and the rippling of the waves heard. He opened the rude wooden door, and contemplated the scene before him. He seemed to be alone in the world, having no one to participate in his feelings. He heard several fishermen talking in their peculiar dialect. Feeling much wearied by the events of the day, he soon retired, and resigned himself to slumber, reclining near one side of the room, in which there were none of the comforts of an ordinary bedchamber. All at once his late father appeared before his eyes in the exact image of life, and said to him, "Why are you in so strange a place?" and taking his hand, continued, "Embark at once in a boat, as the God of Sumiyoshi[119] guides you, and leave this coast." Genji was delighted at this, and replied, "Since I parted from you I have undergone many misfortunes, and I thought that I might be buried on this coast." "It must not be thus," the phantom replied; "your being here is only a punishment for a trifling sin which you have committed. For my own part, when I was on the throne, I did no wrong, but I have somehow been involved in some trifling sin, and before I expiated it I left the world. Hurt, however, at beholding you oppressed with such hardships I came up here, plunging into the waves, and rising on the shore. I am much fatigued; but I have something I wish to tell the Emperor, so I must haste away," and he left Genji, who felt very much affected, and cried out, "Let me accompany you!" With this exclamation he awoke, and looked up, when he saw nothing but the moon's face shining through the windows, with the clouds reposing in the sky. The image of his father still vividly remained before his eyes, and he could not realize that it was only a dream. He became suddenly sad, and was filled with regret that he did not talk a little more, even though it was only in a dream. He could not sleep any more this night, and dawn broke, when a small boat was seen approaching the coast, with a few persons in it. A man from the boat came up to the residence of Genji. When he was asked who he was, he replied that the priest of Akashi (the former Governor) had come from Akashi in his boat, and that he wished to see Yoshikiyo, and to tell him the reason of his coming. Yoshikiyo was surprised, and said, "I have known him for years, but there was a slight reason why we were not the best of friends, and some time has now passed without correspondence. What makes him come?" As to Genji, however, the arrival of the boat made him think of its coincidence with the subject of his dream, so he hurried Yoshikiyo to go and see the new comers. Thereupon the latter went to the boat, thinking as he went, "How could he come to this place amidst the storms which have been raging?" The priest now told Yoshikiyo that in a dream which he had on the first day of the month, a strange being told him a strange thing, and, said he, "I thought it too credulous to believe in a dream, but the object appeared again, and told me that on the thirteenth of this month he will give me a supernatural sign, directing me also to prepare a boat, and as soon as the storm ceased, to sail out to this coast. Therefore, to test its truth I launched a boat, but strange to say, on this day the extraordinarily violent weather of rain, wind, and thunder occurred. I then thought that in China there had been several instances of people benefiting the country by believing in dreams, so though this may not exactly be the case with mine, yet I thought it my duty, at all events, to inform you of the fact. With these thoughts I started in the boat, when a slight miraculous breeze, as it were, blew, and drove me to this coast. I can have no doubt that this was divine direction. Perhaps there might have been some inspiration in this place, too; and I wish to trouble you to transmit this to the Prince." Yoshikiyo then returned and faithfully told Genji all about his conversation with the priest. When Genji came to reflect, he thought that so many dreams having visited him must have some significance. It might only increase his disgrace if he were to despise such divine warnings merely from worldly considerations, and from fear of consequences. It would be better to resign himself to one more advanced in age, and more experienced than himself. An ancient sage says, that "resigning one's self makes one happier," besides, his father had also enjoined him in the dream to leave the coast of Suma, and there remained no further doubt for taking this step. He, therefore, gave this answer to the priest, that "coming into an unknown locality, plunged in solitude, receiving scarcely any visits from friends in the capital, the only thing I have to regard as friends of old times are the sun and the moon that pass over the boundless heavens. Under these circumstances, I shall be only too delighted to visit your part of the coast, and to find there such a suitable retreat." This answer gave the priest great joy, and he pressed Genji to set out at once and come to him. The Prince did so with his usual four or five confidential attendants. The same wind which had miraculously blown the vessel of the priest to Suma now changed, and carried them with equal favor and speed back to Akashi. On their landing they entered a carriage waiting for them, and went to the mansion of the priest. The scenery around the coast was no less novel than that of Suma, the only difference being that there were more people there. The building was grand, and there was also a grand Buddha-hall adjoining for the service of the priest. The plantations of trees, the shrubberies, the rock-work, and the mimic lakes in the garden were so beautifully arranged as to exceed the power of an artist to depict, while the style of the dwelling was so tasteful that it was in no way inferior to any in the capital. The wife and the daughter of the priest were not residing here, but were at another mansion on the hill-side, where they had removed from fear of the recent high tides. Genji now took up his quarters with the priest in this seaside mansion. The first thing he did when he felt a little settled was to write to the capital, and tell his friends of his change of residence. The priest was about sixty years old, and was very sincere in his religious service. The only subject of anxiety which he felt was, as we have already mentioned, the welfare of his daughter. When Genji became thoroughly settled he often joined the priest, and spent hours in conversing with him. The latter, from his age and experience, was full of information and anecdotes, many of which were quite new to Genji, but the narration of them seemed always to turn upon his daughter. April had now come. The trees began to be clothed with a thick shade of leaves, which had a peculiar novelty of appearance, differing from that of the flowers of spring, or the bright dyes of autumn. The Kuina (a particular bird of summer) commenced their fluttering. The furniture and dresses were changed for those more suitable to the time of year. The comfort of the house was most agreeable. It was on one of these evenings that the surface of the broad ocean spread before the eye was unshadowed by the clouds, and the Isle of Awaji floated like foam on its face, just as it appeared to do at Suma. Genji took out his favorite _kin_, on which he had not practised for some time, and was playing an air called "Kôriô," when the priest joined him, having left for awhile his devotions, and said that his music recalled to his mind the old days and the capital which he had quitted so long. He sent for a _biwa_ (mandolin)[120] and a _soh-koto_ from the hill-side mansion, and, after the fashion of a blind singer of ballads to the _biwa_, played two or three airs. He then handed the _soh-koto_ to Genji, who also played a few tunes, saying, as he did so, in a casual manner, "This sounds best when played upon by some fair hand." The priest smiled, and rejoined: "What better hand than yours need we wish to hear playing; for my part, my poor skill has been transmitted to me, through three generations, from the royal hand of the Emperor Yenghi, though I now belong to the past; but, occasionally, when my loneliness oppresses me, I indulge in my old amusement, and there is one who, listening to my strains, has learnt to imitate them so well that they resemble those of the Emperor Yenghi himself. I shall be very happy, if you desire, to find an opportunity for you to hear them." Genji at once laid aside the instrument, saying: "Ah, how bold! I did not know I was among proficients," and continued, "From olden time the _soh-koto_ was peculiarly adopted by female musicians. The fifth daughter of the Emperor Saga, from whom she had received the secret, was a celebrated performer, but no one of equal skill succeeded her. Of course there are several players, but these merely strike or strum on the instrument; but in this retreat there is a skilful hand. How delightful it will be." "If you desire to hear, there is no difficulty. I will introduce her to you. She also plays the _biwa_ very well. The _biwa_ has been considered from olden time very difficult to master, and I am proud of her doing so." In this manner the priest led the conversation to his own daughter, while fruit and _sake_ were brought in for refreshment. He then went on talking of his life since he first came to the coast of Akashi, and of his devotion to religion, for the sake of future happiness, and also out of solicitude for his daughter. He continued: "Although I feel rather awkward in saying it, I am almost inclined to think your coming to this remote vicinity has something providential in it, as an answer, as it were, to our earnest prayers, and it may give you some consolation and pleasure. The reason why I think so is this--it is nearly eighteen years since we began to pray for the blessing of the God Sumiyoshi on our daughter, and we have sent her twice a year, in spring and autumn, to his temple. At the 'six-time' service,[121] also, the prayers for my own repose on the lotus flower,[122] are only secondary to those which I put up for the happiness of my daughter. My father, as you may know, held a good office in the capital, but I am now a plain countryman, and if I leave matters in their present state, the status of my family will soon become lower and lower. Fortunately this girl was promising from her childhood, and my desire was to present her to some distinguished personage in the capital, not without disappointment to many suitors, and I have often told her that if my desire is not fulfilled she had better throw herself into the sea." Such was the tedious discourse which the priest held on the subject of his family affairs; yet it is not surprising that it awakened an interest in the susceptible mind of Genji for the fair maiden thus described as so promising. The priest at last, in spite of the shyness and reserve of the daughter, and the unwillingness of the mother, conducted Genji to the hill-side mansion, and introduced him to the maiden. In the course of time they gradually became more than mere acquaintances to each other. For some time Genji often found himself at the hill-side mansion, and her society appeared to afford him greater pleasure than anything else, but this did not quite meet with the approval of his conscience, and the girl in the mansion at Nijio returned to his thoughts. If this flirtation of his should become known to her, he thought, it perhaps would be very annoying to her. True, she was not much given to be jealous, but he well remembered the occasional complaints she had now and then made to him while in the capital. These feelings induced him to write more frequently and more minutely to her, and he soon began to frequent the hill-side mansion less often. His leisure hours were spent in sketching, as he used to do in Suma, and writing short poetic effusions explanatory of the scenery. This was also going on in the mansion at Nijio, where Violet passed the long hours away in painting different pictures, and also in writing, in the form of a diary, what she saw and did. What will be the issue of all these things? Now, since the spring of the year there had been several heavenly warnings in the capital, and things in general were somewhat unsettled. On the evening of the thirteenth of March, when the rain and wind had raged, the late Emperor appeared in a dream to his son the Emperor, in front of the palace, looking reproachfully upon him. The Emperor showed every token of submission and respect when the dead Emperor told him of many things, all of which concerned Genji's interests. The Emperor became alarmed, and when he awoke he told his mother all about his dream. She, however, told him that on such occasions, when the storm rages, and the sky is obscured by the disturbance of the elements, all things, especially on which our thoughts have been long occupied, appear to us in a dream in a disturbed sleep; and she continued, "I further counsel you not to be too hastily alarmed by such trifles." From this time he began to suffer from sore eyes, which may have resulted from the angry glances of his father's spirit. About the same time the father of the Empress-mother died. His death was by no means premature; but yet, when such events take place repeatedly, it causes the mind to imagine there is something more than natural going on, and this made the Empress-mother feel a little indisposed. The Emperor then constantly told her that if Genji were left in his present condition it might induce evil, and, therefore, it would be better to recall him, and restore his titles and honors to him. She obstinately opposed these ideas, saying, "If a person who proved to be guilty, and has retired from the capital, were to be recalled before the expiration of at least three years, it would naturally show the weakness of authority." She gained her point, and thus the days were spent and the year changed. The Emperor still continually suffered from indisposition, and the unsettled state of things remained the same as before. A prince had been born to him, who was now about two years old, and he began to think of abdicating the throne in favor of the Heir-apparent, the child of the Princess Wistaria. When he looked around to see who would best minister public affairs, he came to think that the disgrace of Genji was a matter not to be allowed to continue, and at last, contrary to the advice of his mother, he issued a public permission for Genji's return to the capital, which was repeated at the end of July. Genji therefore prepared to come back. Before, however, he started, a month passed away, which time was mostly spent in the society of the lady of the hill-side mansion. The expected journey of Genji was now auspicious, even to him, and ought also to have been so to the family of the priest, but parting has always something painful in its nature. This was more so because the girl had by this time the witness of their love in her bosom, but he told her that he would send for her when his position was assured in the capital. Towards the middle of August everything was in readiness, and Genji started on his journey homeward. He went to Naniwa, where he had the ceremony of Horai performed. To the temple of Sumiyoshi he sent a messenger to say that the haste of his journey prevented him coming at this time, but that he would fulfil his vows as soon as circumstances would permit. From Naniwa he proceeded to the capital, and returned once more, after an absence of nearly three years, to his mansion at Nijiô. The joy and excitement of the inmates of the mansion were unbounded, and the development of Violet charmed his eyes. His delight was great and the pleasure of his mind was of the most agreeable nature; still, from time to time, in the midst of this very pleasure, the recollection of the maiden whom he had left at Akashi occurred to his thoughts. But this kind of perturbation was only the result of what had arisen from the very nature of Genji's character. Before the lapse of many days all his titles and honors were restored to him, and he was soon created an extra Vice-Dainagon. All those who had lost dignities or office on account of Genji's complications were also restored to them. It seemed to these like a sudden and unexpected return of spring to the leafless tree. In the course of a few days Genji was invited by the Emperor to come and see him. The latter had scarcely recovered from his indisposition, and was still looking weak and thin. When Genji appeared before him, he manifested great pleasure, and they conversed together in a friendly way till the evening. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 118: A religious feast in the Imperial Palace, in which Nin-wô-kiô, one of the Buddhist Bibles, was read, an event which rarely took place. Its object was to tranquillize the country.] [Footnote 119: The god of the sea.] [Footnote 120: The "biwa," more than any other instrument, is played by blind performers, who accompany it with ballads.] [Footnote 121: The services performed by rigid priests were six times daily--namely, at early morn, mid-day, sunset, early evening, midnight, and after midnight.] [Footnote 122: The Buddhist idea that when we get into Paradise we take our seat upon the lotus flower.] CHAPTER XIV THE BEACON Genji well remembered the dream which he had dreamt at Suma, and in which his father, the late ex-Emperor, had made a faint allusion to his fallen state. He was always thinking of having solemn service performed for him, which might prove to be a remedy for evils. He was now in the capital, and at liberty to do anything he wished. In October, therefore, he ordered the grand ceremony of Mihakkô to be performed for the repose of the dead. Meanwhile the respect of the public towards Genji had now returned to its former state, and he himself had become a distinguished personage in the capital. The Empress-mother, though indisposed, regretted she had not ruined Genji altogether; while the Emperor, who had not forgotten the injunction of the late ex-Emperor, felt satisfied with his recent disposition towards his half-brother, which he believed to be an act of goodness. This he felt the more, because he noticed the improvement in his health continued from day to day, and he experienced a sensation of fresh vigor. He did not, however, believe he should be long on the throne, and when he found himself lonely, he often sent for Genji, and spent hours conversing with him, without any reserve, on public affairs. In February of the next year the ceremony of the "Gembuk" of the Heir-apparent, who was eleven years of age, was performed. At the end of the same month the Emperor abdicated the throne in favor of the Heir-apparent, and his own son was made the Heir-apparent to the new Emperor. The suddenness of these changes struck the Empress-mother with surprise, but she was told by her son that his abdication had been occasioned by his desire to enjoy quiet and repose. The new reign opened with several changes in public affairs. Genji had been made Naidaijin. He filled this extra office of Daijin because there was no vacancy either in the Sadaijin or the Udaijin. He was to take an active part in the administration, but as he was not yet disposed to engage in the busy cares of official life, the ex-Sadaijin, his father-in-law, was solicited to become the regent for the young Emperor. He at first declined to accept the office, on the ground that he was advanced in age, that he had already retired from official life, and that the decline of his life left him insufficient energy. There was, however, an example in a foreign State, where some wise councillors, who resigned and had retired into the far-off mountains when their country was in a disturbed state, came forth from their retreat, with their snow-crowned heads, and took part in the administration of affairs. Nor was it an unusual thing for a statesman who had retired from political scenes to assume again a place under another government. So the ex-Sadaijin did not persist in his refusal, but finally accepted the post of Dajiôdaijin (the Premier). He was now sixty-three years of age. His former retirement had taken place more on account of his disgust with the world than from his indisposition, and hence, when he accepted his new post, he at once showed how capable he was of being a responsible Minister. Tô-no-Chiûjiô, his eldest son, was also made the Gon-Chiûnagon. His daughter by his wife, the fourth daughter of Udaijin, was now twelve years old, and was shortly expected to be presented at Court; while his son, who had sung the "high sand" at a summer-day reunion at Genji's mansion, received a title. The young Genji too, the son of the late Lady Aoi, was admitted to the Court of the Emperor and of the Heir-apparent. The attendants who faithfully served the young Genji, and those in the mansion at Nijiô, had all received a satisfactory token of appreciation from Genji, who now began to have a mansion repaired, which was situated to the east of the one in which he resided, and which had formerly belonged to his father. This he did with a notion of placing there some of his intimate friends, such as the younger one of the ladies in the "Villa of Falling Flowers." Now the young maiden also, whom Genji had left behind at Akashi, and who had been in delicate health, did not pass away from his thoughts. He despatched a messenger there on the first of March, as he deemed the happy event would take place about that time. When the messenger returned, he reported that she was safely delivered of a girl on the sixteenth of the month. He remembered the prediction of an astrologer who had told him that an Emperor would be born to him, and another son who would eventually become a Dajiôdaijin. He also remembered that a daughter, who would be afterwards an Empress, would be also born to him, by a lady inferior to the mothers of the other two children. When he reflected on this prediction and on the series of events, he began thinking of the remarkable coincidences they betrayed; and as he thought of sending for her, as soon as the condition of the young mother's health would admit, he hurried forward the repairs of the eastern mansion. He also thought that as there might not be a suitable nurse at Akashi for the child, he ought to send one from the capital. Fortunately there was a lady there who had lately been delivered of a child. Her mother, who had waited at Court when the late ex-Emperor lived, and her father, who had been some time Court Chamberlain, were both dead. She was now in miserable circumstances. Genji sounded her, through a certain channel, whether she would not be willing to be useful to him. This offer on his part she accepted without much hesitation, and was despatched with a confidential servant to attend on the new-born child. He also sent with her a sword and other presents. She left the capital in a carriage, and proceeded by boat to the province of Settsu, and thence on horseback to Akashi. When she arrived the priest was intensely delighted, and the young mother, who had been gradually improving in health, felt great consolation. The child was very healthy, and the nurse at once began to discharge her duties most faithfully. Hitherto Genji did not confide the story of his relations with the maiden of Akashi to Violet, but he thought he had better do so, as the matter might naturally reach her ears. He now, therefore, informed her of all the circumstances, and of the birth of the child, saying, "If you feel any unpleasantness about the matter, I cannot blame you in any way. It was not the blessing which I desired. How greatly do I regret that in the quarter where I wished to see the heavenly gift, there is none, but see it in another, where there was no expectation. The child is merely a girl too, and I almost think that I need pay no further attention. But this would make me heartless towards my undoubted offspring. I shall send for it and show it to you, and hope you will be generous to her. Can you assure me you will be so?" At these words Violet's face became red as crimson, but she did not lose her temper, and quietly replied: "Your saying this only makes me contemptible to myself, as I think my generosity may not yet be fully understood; but I should like to know when and where I could have learnt to be ungenerous." "These words sound too hard to me," said he. "How can you be so cruel to me? Pray don't attribute any blame to me; I never thought of it. How miserable am I!" And he began to drop tears when he came to reflect how faithful she had been all the time, and how affectionate, and also how regular had been her correspondence. He felt sorry for her, and continued, "In my anxious thoughts about this child, I have some intentions which may be agreeable to you also, only I will not tell you too hastily, since, if I do so now, they might not be taken in a favorable light. The attractions of the mother seem only to have arisen from the position in which she was placed. You must not think of the matter too seriously." He then briefly sketched her character and her skill in music. But on the part of Violet she could not but think that it was cruel to her to give away part of his heart, while her thoughts were with no one but him, and she was quite cast down for some time. Genji tried to console her. He took up a _kin_ and asked her to play and sing with him; but she did not touch it, saying that she could not play it so well as the maiden of Akashi. This very manner of her mild jealousy made her more captivating to him, and without further remarks the subject was dropped. The fifth of May was the fiftieth day of the birth of the child, so Genji sent a messenger to Akashi a few days before the time when he would be expected. At Akashi the feast for the occasion was arranged with great pains, and the arrival of Genji's messenger was most opportune. Let us now relate something about the Princess Wistaria.--Though she had become a nun, her title of ex-Empress had never been lost; and now the change in the reigning sovereign gave her fresh honors. She had been recognized as equivalent to an Empress-regnant who had abdicated. A liberal allowance was granted to her, and a becoming household was established for her private use. She, however, still continued her devotion to religion, now and then coming to Court to see her son, where she was received with all cordiality; so that her rival, the mother of the ex-Emperor, whose influence was overwhelming till lately, now began to feel like one to whom the world had become irksome. In the meantime, public affairs entirely changed their aspects, and the world seemed at this time to have been divided between the Dajiôdaijin and his son-in-law, Genji, by whose influence all things in public were swayed. In August, of this year, the daughter of Gon-Chiûnagon (formerly Tô-no-Chiûjiô) was introduced at Court. She took up her abode in the Kokiden, which had been formerly occupied by her maternal aunt, and she was also styled from this time the Niogo of Kokiden. Prince Hiôb-Kiô had also the intention of introducing his second daughter at Court, but Genji took no interest in this. What will he eventually do about this matter? In the same autumn Genji went to the Temple of Sumiyoshi to fulfil his vows. His party consisted of many young nobles and Court retainers, besides his own private attendants. By a coincidence the maiden of Akashi, who had been prevented from coming to the Temple since the last year, happened to arrive there on the same day. Her party travelled in a boat, and when it reached the beach they saw the procession of Genji's party crossing before them. They did not know what procession it was, and asked the bystanders about it, who, in return, asked them sarcastically, "Can there be anyone who does not know of the coming of Naidaijin, the Prince Genji, here to-day to fulfil his vows?" Most of the young nobles were on horseback, with beautifully made saddles; and others, including Ukon-no-Jiô, Yoshikiyo, and Koremitz, in fine uniforms of different colors (blue, green, or scarlet), according to their different ranks, formed the procession, contrasting with the hue of the range of pine-trees on both sides of the road. Genji was in a carriage, which was followed by ten boy pages, granted by the Court in the same way as a late Sadaijin, Kawara, had been honored. They were dressed in admirable taste, and their hair was twisted up in the form of a double knot, with ribbons of gorgeous purple. The young Genji was also in the procession on horseback, and followed the carriage. The maiden of Akashi witnessed the procession, but she avoided making herself known. She thought she had better not go up to the Temple on that day; but she could not sail back to Akashi, so she had her boat moored in the bay of Naniwa for the night. As to Genji, he knew nothing of the maiden being a spectator of the procession, and spent the whole night in the Temple with his party in performing services which might please the God. It was then that he was informed by Koremitz that he had seen the maiden of Akashi in a boat. On the morrow Genji and his party set off for their homes. As they proceeded Genji hummed, "Ima hata onaji Naniwa nal,"[123] and he stopped, while contemplating the bay. Koremitz, who stood beside him, and divined what he was thinking about, took out a small pen from his pocket and presented it to Genji, who took it and wrote the following on a piece of paper, which he sent to the maiden by one of his attendants who knew her whereabouts:-- "Divinely led by love's bright flame, To this lone temple's shrine we come; And as yon beacon meets our eye, To dream, perchance, of days gone by." A few words more. The change of the ruler had brought a change of the Saigû; and the Lady of Rokjiô, with her daughter, returned to the capital. Her health, however, began to fail, and she became a nun, and after some time died. Before her death Genji visited her, and with her last breath she consigned her daughter to his care. Genji was thinking, therefore, of introducing her at Court at some future time. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 123: A line of an old ode about the beacon in the bay of Naniwa, at the same time expressing the desire of meeting with a loved one. It is impossible to translate this ode literally, as in the original there is a play upon words, the word beacon (in Japanese) also meaning "enthusiastic endeavor." The word "myo-tzkushi" (= beacon) more properly means "water-marker" though disused in the modern Japanese. In the translation a little liberty has been taken.] CHAPTER XV OVERGROWN MUGWORT When Genji was an exile on the sea-coast, many people had been longing for his return. Among these was the Princess Hitachi. She was, as we have seen, the survivor of his Royal father, and the kindness which she had received from Genji was to her like the reflection of the broad starlit sky in a basin of water. After Genji left the capital, however, no correspondence ever passed between them. Several of her servants left her, and her residence became more lonely than ever. A fox might have found a covert in the overgrown shrubbery, and the cry of the owl might have been heard among the thick branches. One might imagine some mysterious "tree-spirit" to reign there. Nevertheless, such grounds as these, surrounded with lofty trees, are more tempting to those who desire to have a stylish dwelling. Hence there were several Duriôs (local governors) who had become rich, and having returned from different provinces, sounded the Princess to see if she were inclined to part with her residence; but this she always refused to do, saying that, however unfortunate she might be, she was not able to give up a mansion inherited from her parents. The mansion contained also a store of rare and antique articles. Several fashionable persons endeavored to induce the Princess to part with them; but such people appeared only contemptible to her, as she looked upon them as proposing such a thing solely because they knew she was poor. Her attendants sometimes suggested to her that it was by no means an uncommon occurrence for one to dispose of such articles when destiny necessitated the sacrifice; but her reply was that these things had been handed down to her only that she might make use of them, and that she would be violating the wishes of the dead if she consented to part with them, allowing them to become the ornament of the dwellings of some lowborn upstarts. Scarcely anyone paid a visit to her dwelling, her only occasional visitor being her brother, a priest, who came to see her when he came to the capital, but he was a man of eccentric character, and was not very flourishing in his circumstances. Such being the state of affairs with the Princess Hitachi, the grounds of her mansion became more and more desolate and wild, the mugwort growing so tall that it reached the veranda. The surrounding walls of massive earth broke down here and there and crumbled away, being trampled over by wandering cattle. In spring and summer boys would sometimes play there. In the autumn a gale blew down a corridor, and carried away part of the shingle roof. Only one blessing remained there--no thief intruded into the enclosure, as no temptation was offered to them for their attack. But never did the Princess lose her accustomed reserve, which her parents had instilled into her mind. Society for her had no attractions. She solaced the hours of her loneliness by looking over ancient story-books and poems, which were stored in the old bookshelves, such as the Karamori, Hakoya-no-toji, or Kakya-hime. These, with their illustrations, were her chief resources. Now a sister of the Princess's mother had married a Duriô, and had already borne him a daughter. This marriage had been considered an unequal match by the father of the Princess, and for this reason she was not very friendly with the family. Jijiû, however, who was a daughter of the Princess's nurse, and who still remained with the Princess, used to go to her. This aunt was influenced by a secret feeling of spite, and when Jijiû visited her she often whispered to her many things which did not become her as a lady. It seems to me that where a lady of ordinary degree is elevated to a higher position, she often acquires a refinement like one originally belonging to it; but there are other women, who when degraded from their rank spoil their taste and habits just like the lady in question. She fondly hoped to revenge herself for having been formerly looked down upon, by showing an apparent kindness to the Princess Hitachi, and by wishing to take her into her home, and make her wait upon her daughters. With this view she told Jijiu to tell her mistress to come to her, and Jijiu did so; but the Princess did not comply with this request. In the meantime the lady's husband was appointed Daini (Senior Secretary to the Lord-Lieutenant), and they were to go down to Tzkushi (modern Kiusiu). She wished to take the Princess with her, and told her that she felt sorry to go to such a far-off locality, leaving her in her present circumstances; but the latter still unhesitatingly replied in the negative, and declined the offer; whereupon her aunt tauntingly remarked that she was too proud, and that, however exalted she might think herself, no one, not even Genji, would show her any further attention. About this time Genji returned, but for some while she heard nothing from him, and only the public rejoicing of many people, and the news about him from the outside world reached her ears. This gave her aunt a further opportunity of repeating the same taunts. She said, "See now who cares for you in your present circumstances. It is not praiseworthy to display such self-importance as you did in the lifetime of your father." And again she pressed her to go with her, but the Princess still clung to the hope that the time would come when Genji would remember her and renew his kindness. Winter came! One day, quite unexpectedly, the aunt arrived at the mansion, bringing as a present a dress for the Princess. Her carriage dashed into the garden in a most pompous style, and drove right up to the southern front of the building. Jijiu went to meet her, and conducted her into the Princess's apartment. "I must soon be leaving the capital," said the visitor. "It is not my wish to leave you behind, but you would not listen to me, and now there is no help. But this one, this Jijiu at least, I wish to take with me. I have come to-day to fetch her. I cannot understand how you can be content with your present condition." Here she manifested a certain sadness, but her delight at her husband's promotion was unmistakable, and she continued:-- "When your father was alive, I was looked down upon by him, which caused a coolness between us. But nevertheless I at no time entertained any ill-will towards you, only you were much favored by Prince Genji, as I heard, which made me abstain from visiting you often; but fortune is fickle, for those in a humble position often enjoy comfort, and those that are higher in station are not quite so well circumstanced. I do really feel sorry to leave you behind." The Princess said very little, but her answer was, "I really thank you for your kind attention, but I do not think I am now fit to move about in the world. I shall be quite happy to bury myself under this roof." "Well, you may think so, but it is simply foolish to abandon one's self, and to bury one's life under such a mass of dilapidation. Had Prince Genji been kind enough to repair the place, it might have become transformed into a golden palace, and how joyous would it not be? but this you cannot expect. As far as I am informed the daughter of Prince Hiob-Kio is the only favorite of the Prince, and no one else shares his attention, all his old favorites being now abandoned. How, then, can you expect him to say that, because you have been faithful to him, he will therefore come to you again?" These words touched the Princess, but she gave no vent to her feelings. The visitor, therefore, hurried Jijiu to get ready, saying that they must leave before the dusk. "When I hear what the lady says," said Jijiu, "it sounds to me very reasonable; but when I see how anxious the Princess is, that also seems natural. Thus I am puzzled between the two. Let me, however, say this, I will only see the lady off to-day." Nevertheless, the Princess foresaw that Jijiu was going to leave her, and she thought of giving her some souvenir. Her own dress was not to be thought of, as it was too old; fortunately she had a long tress of false hair, about nine feet long, made of the hair which had fallen from her own head. This she put into an old casket, and gave it to Jijiu, with a jar of rare perfume. Jijiu had been an attendant on the Princess for a very long time, besides, her mother (the nurse), before she died, told the Princess and her daughter that she hoped they might be long together; so the parting with Jijiu was very trying to the Princess who said to her that though she could not blame her for leaving, she still felt sorry to lose her. To this Jijiu replied, that she never forgot the wishes of her mother, and was only too happy to share joy and sorrow with the Princess; yet she was sorry to say that circumstances obliged her to leave her for some time; but before she could say much, she was hurried away by the visitor. It was one evening in April of the following year that Genji happened to be going to the villa of "the falling flowers," and passed by the mansion of the Princess. There was in the garden a large pine-tree, from whose branches the beautiful clusters of a wistaria hung in rich profusion. A sigh of the evening breeze shook them as they hung in the silver moonlight, and scattered their rich fragrance towards the wayfarer. There was also a weeping willow close by, whose pensile tresses of new verdure touched the half-broken walls of earth underneath. When Genji beheld this beautiful scene from his carriage, he at once remembered it was a place he had seen before. He stopped his carriage, and said to Koremitz, who was with him as usual-- "Is this not the mansion of the Princess Hitachi?" "Yes, it is," replied Koremitz. "Do ask if she is still here," said Genji; "this is a good chance; I will see her if she is at home--ask!" Koremitz entered, and proceeding to the door, called out. An old woman from the inside demanded to know who he was. Koremitz announced himself, and asked if Jijiû was within. The old women replied that she was not, but that she herself was the same as Jijiû. Koremitz recognized her as an aunt of the latter. He then asked her about the Princess, and told her of Genji's intention. To his inquiries he soon obtained a satisfactory answer, and duly reported it to Genji, who now felt a pang of remorse for his long negligence of one so badly circumstanced. He descended from his carriage, but the pathway was all but overgrown with tall mugwort, which was wet with a passing shower; so Koremitz whisked them with his whip, and led him in. Inside, meanwhile, the Princess, though she felt very pleased, experienced a feeling of shyness. Her aunt, it will be remembered, had presented her with a suitable dress, which she had hitherto had no pleasure in wearing, and had kept it in a box which had originally contained perfume. She now took this out and put it on. Genji was presently shown into the room. "It is a long time since I saw you last," said Genji, "but still I have never forgotten you, only I heard nothing from you; so I waited till now, and here I find myself once more." The Princess, as usual, said very little, only thanking him for his visit. He then addressed her in many kind and affectionate words, many of which he might not really have meant, and after a considerable stay he at last took his departure. This was about the time of the feast in the Temple of Kamo, and Genji received several presents under various pretexts. He distributed these presents among his friends, such as those in the villa of "the falling flowers," and to the Princess. He also sent his servant to the mansion of the latter to cut down the rampant mugwort, and he restored the grounds to proper order. Moreover, he had a wooden enclosure placed all round the garden. So far as the world hitherto knew about Genji, he was supposed only to cast his eyes on extraordinary and pre-eminent beauties; but we see in him a very different character in the present instance. He showed so much kindness to the Princess Hitachi, who was by no means distinguished for her beauty, and who still bore a mark on her nose which might remind one of a well-ripened fruit carried by mountaineers. How was this? it might have been preordained to be so. The Princess continued to live in the mansion for two years, and then she removed to a part of a newly built "eastern mansion" belonging to Genji, where she lived happily under the kind care of the Prince, though he had much difficulty in coming often to see her. I would fain describe the astonishment of her aunt when she returned from the Western Island and saw the Princess's happy condition, and how Jijiu regretted having left her too hastily; but my head is aching and my fingers are tired, so I shall wait for some future opportunity when I may again take up the thread of my story. CHAPTER XVI BARRIER HOUSE We left beautiful Cicada at the time when she quitted the capital with her husband. Now this husband Iyo-no-Kami, had been promoted to the governorship of Hitachi, in the year which followed that of the demise of the late ex-Emperor, and Cicada accompanied him to the province. It was a year after Genji's return that they came back to the capital. On the day when they had to pass the barrier house of Ausaka (meeting-path) on their homeward way, Hitachi's sons, the eldest known to us as Ki-no-Kami, now became Kawachi-no-Kami, and others went from the city to meet them. It so happened that Genji was to pay his visit to the Temple of Ishiyama on this very day. This became known to Hitachi, who, thinking it would be embarrassing if they met with his procession on the road, determined to start very early; but, somehow or another, time passed on, and when they came to the lake coast of Uchiide (modern Otz, a place along Lake Biwa), the sun had risen high, and this was the moment when Genji was crossing the Awata Road. In the course of a few hours the outriders of Genji's cortège came in sight; so that Hitachi's party left their several carriages, and seated themselves under the shade of the cedars on the hill-side of Ausaka, in order to avoid encountering Genji and his procession. It was the last day of September. All the herbage was fading under the influence of the coming winter, and many tinted autumn leaves displayed their different hues over the hills and fields. The scene was in every way pleasing to the eyes of the spectators. The number of the carriages of Hitachi's party was about ten in all, and the style and appearance of the party showed no traces of rusticity of taste. It might have been imagined that the party of the Saigû journeying towards or from Ise, might be something similar to this one. Genji soon caught sight of them, and became aware that it was Hitachi. He therefore sent for Cicada's brother--whom we know as Kokimi, and who had now been made Uyemon-no-Ske--from the party, and told him that he hoped his attention in coming there to meet them would not be considered unfavorable. This Kokimi, as we know, had received much kindness from Genji up to the time of his becoming a man; but when Genji had to quit the capital he left him and joined his brother-in-law in his official province. This was not viewed as very satisfactory; but Genji manifested no bad feeling to him, and treated him still as one of his household attendants. Ukon-no-Jiô, a brother-in-law of Cicada, on the other hand, had faithfully followed Genji to his exile, and after their return he was more than ever favored by Genji. This state of things made many feel for the bad taste of the ordinary weakness of the world, exhibited by the faithfully following of one when circumstances are flourishing, and deserting him in the time of adversity. Kokimi himself was one of those who fully realized these feelings, and was pained by them. When Genji finished his visit to the Temple, and was coming back, Kokimi once more came from the capital to meet him. Through him Genji sent a letter to his sister, asking her if she had recognized him when he passed at Ausaka, adding the following verse:-- "As onward we our way did take, On Meeting-Path, both I and you, We met not, for by the saltless lake, No _milme_[124] by its waters grew." In handing the letter to Kokimi, Genji said, "Give this to your sister; it is a long time since I heard anything from her, still the past seems to me only like yesterday. But do you disapprove of my sending this?" Kokimi replied in a few words, and took the letter back to his sister, and told her, when he gave it, that she might easily give him some sort of answer. She did indeed disapprove of treating the matter in any way more seriously than she had formerly done, yet she wrote the following:-- "By Barrier-House--oh, name unkind, That bars the path of friendly greeting; We passed along with yearning mind, But passed, alas! without a meeting." After this time some other correspondence now and then passed between them. As time rolled on the health of her aged husband visibly declined; and after fervently enjoining his sons to be kind and attentive to her, in due time he breathed his last. For some time they were kind and attentive to her, as their father had requested, and there was nothing unsatisfactory in their behavior towards her, yet many things which were not altogether pleasant gradually presented themselves to her, and so it is always in life. Finally Cicada, telling her intentions to no one beforehand, became a nun. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 124: The name of a seaweed, but also meaning the eyes that meet, and hence the twofold sense of the word.] CHAPTER XVII COMPETITIVE SHOW OF PICTURES The introduction of the late Saigû, the daughter of the Lady of Rokjiô, at Court, was now arranged to take place, with the approval of the Empress-mother (the Princess Wistaria). All the arrangements and preparations were made, though not quite openly, under the eye of Genji, who took a parental interest in her. It may be remembered that the ex-Emperor was once struck by her charms, on the eve of her departure for Ise; and though he never encouraged this fancy to become anything more than an ordinary partiality, he took no small interest in all that concerned her welfare. When the day of introduction arrived, he made her several beautiful presents, such as a comb-box, a dressing-table, and a casket containing rare perfumes. At her residence all her female attendants, and some others, assembled, who made every preparation with the utmost pains. In the Palace, the Empress-mother was with her Royal son on this day. He was still a mere boy, and scarcely understood what was going on; but he was now fully informed on the subject by his mother, and was told that a very interesting lady was going to reside in the Palace to attend on him, and that he must be good and kind to her. The presentation took place late in the evening, and henceforth she was called the Niogo of the Ume-Tsubo (plum-chamber), from the name of her apartment. She was a charming lady, and the Emperor was not without a certain liking for her; yet Lady Kokiden, the daughter of Gon-Chiûnagon (Tô-no-Chiûjiô), who had been introduced some time previously, and consequently was an acquaintance of an older date, was much more frequently preferred by him to the other for society in daily amusement. When Gon-Chiûnagon introduced his daughter, he did not of course do so without hope of her further elevation; but now Lady Plum came to assume a position through Genji's influence, as if to compete with his daughter for the royal favor; and it was by no means glad tidings for him. It may be here mentioned that Prince Hiob-Kio had also, as we have already seen, an intention of introducing one of his daughters at Court; but this hope was doomed to disappointment by the establishing of the two ladies already introduced, and he was induced to defer his intention, at least for the present. The Emperor was very fond of pictures, and painted with considerable ability. Lady Plum, too, as it happened, possessed the same taste as the Emperor, and used often to amuse herself by painting. If, therefore, he liked ordinary courtiers who exhibited a taste for painting, it was no matter of surprise that he liked to see the delicate hands of the lady occupied in carefully laying on colors. This similarity of taste gradually drew his attention to her, and led to frequent visits to the "plum-chamber." When Gon-Chiûnagon was informed of these circumstances, he took the matter into his own hands. He himself determined to excite a spirit of rivalry. He contrived means to counteract the influence of painting, and commissioned several famous artists of the times to execute some elaborate pictures. Most of these were subjects taken from old romances, as he conceived that these were always more attractive than mere fanciful pictures. He had also caused to be painted a representation of every month of the year, which would also be likely, he thought, to interest the Emperor. When these pictures were finished he took them to Court, and submitted them to his inspection; but he would not agree that he should take any of them to the plum-chamber; and they were all deposited in the chamber of his daughter. Genji, when he heard of this, said of his brother-in-law, "He is young; he never could be behind others." He was, however, unable to pass the matter over unnoticed. He told the Emperor that he would present him with some old pictures, and returning to his mansion at Nijio he opened his picture cabinet, where numbers of old and new pictures were kept. From these, with the assistance of Violet, he made a selection of the best. But such pictures as illustrations of the "Long Regrets," or representations of "O-shio-kun," were reserved, because the terminations of these stories were not happy ones. He also took out of his cabinet the sketches which he had made while in Suma and Akashi, and showed them for the first time to Violet, who was a little angry at his not having shown them to her sooner. It was about the tenth of February, and the face of Nature began to smile with the approach of spring, making the hearts and tempers of people more calm and cheerful; besides, it was just the time when the Court was unoccupied with the keeping of any festival. There could be no better chance than this for such an exhibition of pictures to attract the attention of people enjoying leisure. Genji, therefore, sent his collection of pictures to the Palace in behalf of the lady of the plum-chamber. This soon created a sensation in the Palace. Most of the pictures that were in the possession of the lady of the plum-chamber were from old romances, and the pictures themselves were of ancient date, being rare, while those of Kokiden were more modern subjects and by living artists. Thus each of them had their special merits, so that it became difficult to say which were more excellent. Talking of these pictures became quite a fashionable subject of conversation of the courtiers of the day. The Imperial-mother happened to be at Court, and when she saw these pictures and heard different persons at Court discussing their relative merits, she suggested that they should divide themselves into two parties, right and left, and regularly to give their judgment. This was accordingly done: Hei-Naishi-no-Ske, Jijiû-no-Naishi, and Shiôshiô-no-Miôbu took the left, on the side of the lady of the plum-chamber; while Daini-no-Naishi-no-Ske, Chiûjiô-no-Miôbu, and Hiôye-no-Miôbu took the right, on the side of the Kokiden. The first picture selected was the illustration of the "Bamboo Cutter,"[125] by the left, as it was the most appropriate to come first for the discussion of its merits, as being the parent of romance. To compete with this, that of "Toshikagè,"[126] from "The Empty Wood," was selected by the right. The left now stated their case, saying, "The bamboo--indeed, its story too--may be an old and commonly known thing, but the maiden Kakya, in keeping her purity unsullied in this world, is highly admirable; besides, it was an occurrence that belongs to a pre-historical period. No ordinary woman would ever be equal to her, and so this picture has an excellence." Thereupon the right argued in opposition to this, saying, "The sky, where the maiden Kakya has gone away, may indeed be high, but it is beyond human reach, so we may put it aside. When she made her appearance in this world she was, after all, a creature of bamboo; and, indeed, we may consider her even lower than ourselves. It may also be true that she threw a bright radiance over the inside of a cottage, but she never shone in the august society of a palace. Abe-no-oshi's[127] spending millions of money in order to get the so-called fire-proof rat, which, when obtained, was consumed in the flames in a moment, is simply ridiculous. Prince Kuramochi's[128] pretended jewel branch was simply a delusion. Besides, this picture is by Kose-no-Omi, with notes[129] by Tsurayuki. These are not very uncommon. The paper is Kamiya, only covered with Chinese satin. The outer cover is reddish purple, and the centre stick is purple Azedarach. These are very common ornaments. Now Toshikagè, though he had undergone a severe trial from the raging storm, and had been carried to a strange country, arrived at length at the country to which he was originally despatched, and from there returned to his native land, having achieved his object, and having made his ability recognized both at home and abroad. This picture is the life of this man, and it represents many scenes, not only of his country but of foreign ones, which cannot fail to be interesting. We therefore dare to place this one above the other in merit." The ground of this picture was thick white tinted paper, the outer cover was green, and the centre stick jade. The picture was by Tsunenori, and the writing by Michikage. It was in the highest taste of the period. The left made no more protestation against the right. Next the romance of Ise by the left, and that of Shiô-Sammi by the right, were brought into competition. Here again the relative merit was very difficult to be decided at once. That of the right had apparently more charms than that of the other, since it beautifully represented the society of a more recent period. Hei-Naishi, of the left, therefore said, "If leaving the depths of Ise's night-sea, We follow the fancies of new-fashioned dreams, All the beauty and skill of the ancients will be Swept away by the current of art's modern streams. Who would run down the fame of Narihira for the sake of the pretentious humbug of our own days?" Then Daini-no-Naishi-no-Ske, of the right, replied, "The noble mind that soars on high, Beyond the star-bespangled sky; Looks down with ease on depths that lie A thousand fathoms 'neath his eye."[130] Upon this, the Empress-mother interceded. She said, that "The exalted nobility of Lord Hiôye[131] may not, indeed, be passed over without notice, yet the name of Narihira could not altogether be eclipsed by his. Though too well-known to all may be The lovely shore of Ise's sea; Its aged fisher's honored name, A tribute of respect may claim." There were several more rolls to be exhibited, and the rival protestations on both sides became very warm, so that one roll occasioned considerable discussion. While this was going on, Genji arrived on the scene. He suggested to them that if there was any competition at all it should be decided on a specially appointed day, in a more solemn manner, in the presence of the Emperor. This suggestion having been adopted, the discussion came to an end. The day for this purpose was fixed. The ex-Emperor, who had been informed of this, presented several pictures to the lady of the plum-chamber. They were mostly illustrations of Court Festivals, on which there were explanatory remarks written by the Emperor Yenghi. Besides these, there was one which had been expressly executed at his own order by Kim-mochi. This was an illustration of the ceremony which took place at his palace on the departure of the lady for Ise, some time back, when she had gone there as the Saigû. It was also probable that some of his pictures came into the possession of her rival, the Lady Kokiden, through his mother (as the mother of the former was a sister of the latter). When the day arrived every arrangement was made in the large saloon at the rear of the Palace, where the Imperial seat was placed at the top. The Court ladies of both parties--those of the lady of the plum-chamber, and those of the lady of Kokiden--were arranged respectively left and right, the left, or those of the lady of the plum-chamber, facing southwards, and those of the right, northwards. All the courtiers also took the places allotted to them. Here the pictures were brought. The box, containing those of the left was of purple Azedarach. The stand on which the box was placed was of safran, and over this was thrown a cover of Chinese brocade with a mauve ground. The seat underneath was of Chinese colored silk. Six young girls brought all this in, and arranged it all in order. Their Kazami (outer dress) was of red and cherry color, with tunics of Wistaria lining (light purple outside, and light green within). The box which contained the pictures of the right was of "Jin" wood, the stand of light colored "Jin," the cover of Corean silk with a green ground. The legs of the stand, which were trellised round with a silken cord, showed modern and artistic taste. The Kazami of the young girls was of willow lining (white outside and green within), and their tunics were of Kerria japonica lining (or yellow outside and light red within). Both Genji and Gon-Chiûnagon were present, by the Emperor's special invitation, as also the Prince Lord-Lieutenant of Tzkushi who loved pictures above all things, and he was consequently chosen umpire for this day's competition. Many of the pictures were highly admirable, and it was most difficult to make any preference between them. For instance, if there was produced by one party a roll of "The Season," which was the masterpiece of some old master, on selected subjects; there was produced also, by the other party, a roll of sketches on paper, which were scarcely inferior to, and more ornamented with flourishing than the ancient works, in spite of the necessary limitation of space which generally makes the wide expanse of scenery almost too difficult to express. Thus the disputes on both sides were very warm. Meanwhile the Imperial-mother (the Princess Wistaria) also came into the saloon, pushing aside the sliding screen of the breakfast chamber. The criticisms still continued, in which Genji made, now and then, suggestive remarks. Before all was finished the shades of evening began to fall on them. There remained, on the right, one more roll, when the roll of "Suma" was produced on the left. It made Gon-Chiûnagon slightly embarrassed. The last roll of the right was, of course, a selected one, but it had several disadvantages in comparison with that of "Suma." The sketches on this roll had been done by Genji, with great pains and time. They were illustrations of different bays and shores. They were most skilfully executed, and carried away the minds of the spectators to the actual spots. On them illustrative remarks were written, sometimes in the shape of a diary, occasionally mingled with poetical effusions in style both grave and easy. These made a great impression on the Emperor, and on everyone present; and finally, owing to this roll, the left was decided to have won the victory. Then followed the partaking of refreshments, as was usual on such occasions. In the course of conversation, Genji remarked to the Lord-Lieutenant, "From my boyhood I paid much attention to reading and writing, and perhaps my father noticed that I had benefited by these pursuits. He observed that 'few very clever men enjoyed worldly happiness and long life'; perhaps because ability and knowledge are too highly valued in the world to admit of other blessings. True it is, that even a man whose high birth assures him a certain success in life, ought not to be devoid of learning, but I advise you to moderate your exertions. After this time, he took more pains in instructing me in the ways and manners of men of high position than in the minute details of science. For these reasons, though on the one hand I was not quite clumsy, I cannot, on the other, say in what particular subject I am well versed and efficient. Drawing, however, was a favorite object of my taste and ambition, and I also desired to execute a work to the full extent of my ideas. In the meantime, I enjoyed quiet leisure by the sea-shore, and as I contemplated the wide expanse of scenery, my conception seemed to enlarge as I gazed upon it. This made me take up my brush, but not a few parts of the work have fallen short of those conceptions. Therefore, I thought them altogether unworthy to be shown expressly, though I have now boldly submitted them to your inspection on this good opportunity." "Nothing can be well learned that is not agreeable to one's natural taste," replied the Lord-Lieutenant. "It is true, but every art has its special instructor, and by this means their methods can be copied by their pupils, though there may be differences in skill and perfection. Among arts, however, nothing betrays one's tastes and nature more than work of pen or brush (writing and painting), and playing the game of Go. Of course men of low origin, and of little accomplishment, often happen to excel in these arts, but not so frequently as persons of position. Under the auspicious care of the late Emperor, what prince or princess could have failed to attain the knowledge of such arts? a care which was directed towards yourself especially. I will not speak of literature and learning too. Your accomplishments comprised the _kin_, next the flute, the mandolin, and _soh-koto_--this we all knew, and so, too, the late Emperor said: your painting, however, has been hitherto thought to be mere amusement, but we now have seen your sketches executed with a skill not unequal to the ancient famous draughtsmen in black ink." It was about the twentieth of the month, and the evening moon appeared in the sky, while they were thus conversing. Her radiance was too weak to make the ground near them bright, but afar-off the sky became palely white. Several musical instruments were sent for from the guardian of the library. Genji played a _kin_, Gon-Chiûnagon a _wagon_, the Lord-Lieutenant a _soh-koto_, and Shiôshiô-no-Miôbu a mandolin. The _hiôshi_ (beating time to music) was undertaken by a courtier. As this went on, the darkness of night began to diminish, and the hues of the flowers in the garden, and the countenance of each of the party, became gradually visible, while the birds themselves began to chirp in the trees. It was a pleasant dawn. Several presents were made to the company by the Imperial-mother, and to the Lord-Lieutenant a robe was given in addition, as an acknowledgment of his services as judge in the competition. And so the party broke up. The roll of "Suma" was left, as was requested, in the hands of the Imperial-mother. Genji had some more rolls of the same series, but they were reserved for some future occasion. During the reign of this Emperor every care was taken on the occasion of all Court Festivals, so that future generations should hold that such and such precedents took their origin in this reign. Hence a meeting even such as above described, which was only private in its nature, was carried out in a manner as pleasant and enlightened as possible. As to Genji, he thought he had obtained a position too exalted, and an influence too great. There were, indeed, several instances of public men surprised by misfortune, who, in premature age, obtained high position and vast influence. He thought of these examples, and though he had hitherto enjoyed his position and authority, as if he regarded them as a compensation for his former fall, he began, as the Emperor was now becoming older, to retire gradually from public life, so as to prepare his mind and thoughts, and devote himself to the attainment of happiness in the world to come, and also for the prolongation of life. For these reasons he ordered a chapel to be built for himself on a mountain side, where he might retire. In the meantime he had the ambition to see his children satisfactorily brought out into the world--an ambition which restrained him from carrying out his wishes of retiring. It is not easy to understand or define the exact state of his mind at this period. FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 125: A short romance, supposed to be the oldest work of the kind ever written in Japan, as the authoress states. The story is, that once upon a time there was an aged man whose occupation was to cut bamboo. One day he found a knot in a bamboo cane which was radiant and shining, and upon cutting it he found in it a little girl who was named Kakya-hime. He took her home and brought her up. She grew a remarkable beauty. She had many suitors, but she refused to listen to their addresses, and kept her maiden reputation unsullied. Finally, in leaving this world, she ascended into the moon, from which she professed to have originally come down.] [Footnote 126: This is another old romance, and Toshikagè is its principal hero. When twelve or thirteen years of age he was sent to China, but the ship in which he was, being driven by a hurricane to Persia, he met there with a mystic stranger, from whom he learned secrets of the "Kin;" from thence he reached China, and afterwards returned to Japan.] [Footnote 127: This man was one of the maiden's suitors. He was told by her that if he could get for her the skin of the fire-proof rat she might possibly accept his hand. With this object he gave a vast sum of money to a Chinese merchant, who brought him what he professed to be the skin of the fire-proof rat, but when it was put to the test, it burnt away, and he lost his suit.] [Footnote 128: This Prince was another suitor of the maiden. His task was to find a sacred island called Horai, and to get a branch of a jewelled tree which grew in this island. He pretended to have embarked for this purpose, but really concealed himself in an obscure place. He had an artificial branch made by some goldsmith; but, of course, this deception was at once detected.] [Footnote 129: Japanese pictures usually have explanatory notes written on them.] [Footnote 130: It seems that this stanza alludes to some incident in the Shiô-Sammi, at the same time praising the picture.] [Footnote 131: This seems to be the name of the hero in the story alluded to above.] * * * * * CLASSICAL POETRY OF JAPAN [_Selections translated by Basil Hall Chamberlain_] INTRODUCTION The poetry of a nation is always the best revealer of its genuine life: the range of its spiritual as well as of its intellectual outlook. This is the case even where poetry is imitative, for imitation only pertains to the form of poetry, and not to its essence. Vergil copied the metre and borrowed the phraseology of Homer, but is never Homeric. In one sense, all national poetry is original, even though it be shackled by rules of traditional prosody, and has adopted the system of rhyme devised by writers in another language, whose words seem naturally to bourgeon into assonant terminations. But Japanese poetry is original in every sense of the term. Imitative as the Japanese are, and borrowers from other nations in every department of plastic, fictile, and pictorial art, as well as in religion, politics, and manufactures, the poetry of Japan is a true-born flower of the soil, unique in its mechanical structure, spontaneous and unaffected in its sentiment and subject. The present collection of Japanese poetry is compiled and translated into English from what the Japanese call "The Collection of Myriad Leaves," and from a number of other anthologies made by imperial decree year by year from the tenth until the fifteenth century. This was the golden age of Japanese literature, and nowadays, when poetry is dead in Japan, and the people and their rulers are aiming at nothing but the benefits of material civilization, these ancient anthologies are drawn upon for vamping up and compiling what pass for the current verses of the hour. The twenty volumes of the "Myriad Leaves" were probably published first in the latter half of the eighth century, in the reign of the Mikado Shiyaumu; the editor was Prince Moroye, for in those days the cultivation of verse was especially considered the privilege of the princely and aristocratic. A poem written by a man of obscure rank was sometimes included in the royal collections, but the name of the author never. And indeed some of the distinctive quality of Japanese poetry is undoubtedly due to the air in which it flourished. It is never religious, and it is often immoral, but it is always suffused with a certain hue of courtliness, even gentleness. The language is of the most refined delicacy, the thought is never boorish or rude; there is the self-collectedness which we find in the poetry of France and Italy during the Renaissance, and in England during the reign of Queen Anne. It exhibits the most exquisite polish, allied with an avoidance of every shocking or perturbing theme. It seems to combine the enduring lustre of a precious metal with the tenuity of gold-leaf. Even the most vivid emotions of grief and love, as well as the horrors of war, were banished from the Japanese Parnassus, where the Muse of Tragedy warbles, and the lyric Muse utters nothing but ditties of exquisite and melting sweetness, which soothe the ear, but never stir the heart: while their meaning is often so obscure as even to elude the understanding. Allied to this polite reserve of the courtly poets of Japan is the simplicity of their style, which is, doubtless, in a large measure, due to the meagre range of spiritual faculties which characterize the Japanese mind. This intellectual poverty manifests itself in the absence of all personification and reference to abstract ideas. The narrow world of the poet is here a concrete and literal sphere of experience. He never rises on wings above the earth his feet are treading, and the things around him that his fingers touch. But within this limited area he revels in a great variety of subjects. In the present anthology will be found ballads, love-songs, elegies, as well as short stanzas composed with the strictest economy of word and phrase. These we must characterize as epigrams. They are gems, polished with almost passionless nicety and fastidious care. They remind us very much of Roman poetry under the later Empire, and many of them might have been written by Martial, at the court of Domitian. They contain references to court doings, compliments, and sentiments couched in pointed language. The drama of Japan is represented by two types, one of which may be called lyrical, and the other the comedy of real life. Specimens of both are found in the present collection, which will furnish English readers with a very fair idea of what the most interesting and enterprising of Oriental nations has done in the domain of imaginative literature. E. W. BALLADS THE FISHER-BOY URASHIMA 'Tis spring, and the mists come stealing O'er Suminóye's shore, And I stand by the seaside musing On the days that are no more. I muse on the old-world story, As the boats glide to and fro, Of the fisher-boy, Urashima, Who a-fishing loved to go; How he came not back to the village Though sev'n suns had risen and set, But rowed on past the bounds of ocean, And the sea-god's daughter met; How they pledged their faith to each other, And came to the Evergreen Land, And entered the sea-god's palace So lovingly hand in hand, To dwell for aye in that country, The ocean-maiden and he-- The country where youth and beauty Abide eternally. But the foolish boy said, "To-morrow I'll come back with thee to dwell; But I have a word to my father, A word to my mother to tell." The maiden answered, "A casket I give into thine hand; And if that thou hopest truly To come back to the Evergreen Land, "Then open it not, I charge thee! Open it not, I beseech!" So the boy rowed home o'er the billows To Suminóye's beach. But where is his native hamlet? Strange hamlets line the strand. Where is his mother's cottage? Strange cots rise on either hand. "What, in three short years since I left it," He cries in his wonder sore, "Has the home of my childhood vanished? Is the bamboo fence no more? "Perchance if I open the casket Which the maiden gave to me, My home and the dear old village Will come back as they used to be." And he lifts the lid, and there rises A fleecy, silvery cloud, That floats off to the Evergreen Country:-- And the fisher-boy cries aloud; He waves the sleeve of his tunic, He rolls over on the ground, He dances with fury and horror, Running wildly round and round.[132] But a sudden chill comes o'er him That bleaches his raven hair, And furrows with hoary wrinkles The form erst so young and fair. His breath grows fainter and fainter, Till at last he sinks dead on the shore; And I gaze on the spot where his cottage Once stood, but now stands no more. _Anon_. ON SEEING A DEAD BODY Methinks from the hedge round the garden His bride the fair hemp hath ta'en, And woven the fleecy raiment That ne'er he threw off him again. For toilsome the journey he journeyed To serve his liege and lord,[133] Till the single belt that encircled him Was changed to a thrice-wound cord; And now, methinks, he was faring Back home to the country-side, With thoughts all full of his father, Of his mother, and of his bride. But here 'mid the eastern mountains, Where the awful pass climbs their brow, He halts on his onward journey And builds him a dwelling low; And here he lies stark in his garments, Dishevelled his raven hair, And ne'er can he tell me his birthplace, Nor the name that he erst did bear. _Sakimaro_. THE MAIDEN OF UNÁHI[134] In Ashinóya village dwelt The Maiden of Unáhi, On whose beauty the next-door neighbors e'en Might cast no wandering eye; For they locked her up as a child of eight, When her hair hung loosely still; And now her tresses were gathered up, To float no more at will.[135] And the men all yearned that her sweet face Might once more stand reveal'd, Who was hid from gaze, as in silken maze The chrysalis lies concealed. And they formed a hedge round the house, And, "I'll wed her!" they all did cry; And the Champion of Chinu he was there, And the Champion of Unáhi. With jealous love these champions twain The beauteous girl did woo, Each had his hand on the hilt of his sword, And a full-charged quiver, too, Was slung o'er the back of each champion fierce, And a bow of snow-white wood Did rest in the sinewy hand of each; And the twain defiant stood. Crying, "An 'twere for her dear sake, Nor fire nor flood I'd fear!" The maiden heard each daring word, But spoke in her mother's ear:-- "Alas! that I, poor country girl, Should cause this jealous strife! As I may not wed the man I love What profits me my life? "In Hades' realm I will await The issue of the fray." These secret thoughts, with many a sigh, She whisper'd and pass'd away. To the Champion of Chinu in a dream Her face that night was shown; So he followed the maid to Hades' shade, And his rival was left alone; Left alone--too late! too late! He gapes at the vacant air, He shouts, and he yells, and gnashes his teeth, And dances in wild despair. "But no! I'll not yield!" he fiercely cries, "I'm as good a man as he!" And girding his poniard, he follows after, To search out his enemy. The kinsmen then, on either side, In solemn conclave met, As a token forever and evermore-- Some monument for to set, That the story might pass from mouth to mouth, While heav'n and earth shall stand; So they laid the maiden in the midst, And the champions on either hand. And I, when I hear the mournful tale, I melt into bitter tears, As though these lovers I never saw Had been mine own compeers. _Mushimaro_. THE GRAVE OF THE MAIDEN OF UNÁHI I stand by the grave where they buried The Maiden of Unáhi, Whom of old the rival champions Did woo so jealously. The grave should hand down through ages Her story for evermore, That men yet unborn might love her, And think on the days of yore. And so beside the causeway They piled up the bowlders high; Nor e'er till the clouds that o'ershadow us Shall vanish from the sky, May the pilgrim along the causeway Forget to turn aside, And mourn o'er the grave of the Maiden; And the village folk, beside, Ne'er cease from their bitter weeping, But cluster around her tomb; And the ages repeat her story, And bewail the Maiden's doom. Till at last e'en I stand gazing On the grave where she now lies low, And muse with unspeakable sadness On the old days long ago. _Sakimaro_. [Note.--The existence of the Maiden of Unáhi is not doubted by any of the native authorities, and, as usual, the tomb is there (or said to be there, for the present writer's search for it on the occasion of a somewhat hurried visit to that part of the country was vain) to attest the truth of the tradition. Ashinóya is the name of the village, and Unáhi of the district. The locality is in the province of Setsutsu, between the present treaty ports of Kobe and Osaka.] THE MAIDEN OF KATSUSHIKA Where in the far-off eastern land The cock first crows at dawn, The people still hand down a tale Of days long dead and gone. They tell of Katsushika's maid, Whose sash of country blue Bound but a frock of home-spun hemp, And kirtle coarse to view; Whose feet no shoe had e'er confined, Nor comb passed through her hair; Yet all the queens in damask robes Might nevermore compare. With this dear child, who smiling stood, A flow'ret of the spring-- In beauty perfect and complete, Like to the moon's full ring. And, as the summer moths that fly Towards the flame so bright, Or as the boats that deck the port When fall the shades of night, So came the suitors; but she said:-- "Why take me for your wife? Full well I know my humble lot, I know how short my life."[136] So where the dashing billows beat On the loud-sounding shore, Hath Katsushika's tender maid Her home for evermore. Yes! 'tis a tale of days long past; But, listening to the lay, It seems as I had gazed upon Her face but yesterday. _Anon_. THE BEGGAR'S COMPLAINT[137] The heaven and earth they call so great, For me are mickle small; The sun and moon they call so bright, For me ne'er shine at all. Are all men sad, or only I? And what have I obtained-- What good the gift of mortal life, That prize so rarely gained,[138] If nought my chilly back protects But one thin grass-cloth coat, In tatters hanging like the weeds That on the billows float-- If here in smoke-stained, darksome hut, Upon the bare cold ground, I make my wretched bed of straw, And hear the mournful sound-- Hear how mine aged parents groan, And wife and children cry, Father and mother, children, wife, Huddling in misery-- If in the rice-pan, nigh forgot, The spider hangs its nest,[139] And from the hearth no smoke goes up Where all is so unblest? And now, to make our wail more deep, That saying is proved true Of "snipping what was short before":-- Here comes to claim his due, The village provost, stick in hand He's shouting at the door;-- And can such pain and grief be all Existence has in store? _Stanza_ Shame and despair are mine from day to day; But, being no bird, I cannot fly away. _Anon._ A SOLDIER'S REGRETS ON LEAVING HOME When _I left_ to keep guard on the frontier (For such was the monarch's decree), My mother, with skirt uplifted,[140] Drew near and fondled me; And my father, the hot tears streaming His snow-white beard adown, Besought me to tarry, crying:-- "Alas! when thou art gone, "When thou leavest our gate in the morning, No other sons have I, And mine eyes will long to behold thee As the weary years roll by; "So tarry but one day longer, And let me find some relief In speaking and hearing thee speak to me!" So wail'd the old man in his grief. And on either side came pressing My wife and my children dear, Fluttering like birds, and with garments Besprinkled with many a tear; And clasped my hands and would stay me, For 'twas so hard to part; But mine awe of the sovereign edict Constrained my loving heart. I went; yet each time the pathway O'er a pass through the mountains did wind, I'd turn me round--ah! so lovingly!-- And ten thousand times gaze behind. But farther still, and still farther, Past many a land I did roam, And my thoughts were all thoughts of sadness, All loving, sad thoughts of home;-- Till I came to the shores of Sumi, Where the sovereign gods I prayed, With off'rings so humbly offered-- And this the prayer that I made:-- "Being mortal, I know not how many The days of my life may be; And how the perilous pathway That leads o'er the plain of the sea, "Past unknown islands will bear me:-- But grant that while I am gone No hurt may touch father or mother, Or the wife now left alone!" Yes, such was my prayer to the sea-gods; And now the unnumbered oars, And the ship and the seamen to bear me From breezy Naníha's shores, Are there at the mouth of the river:-- Oh! tell the dear ones at home, That I'm off as the day is breaking To row o'er the ocean foam. _Anon._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 132: Such frantic demonstrations of grief are very frequently mentioned in the early poetry, and sound strangely to those who are accustomed to the more than English reserve of the modern Japanese. Possibly, as in Europe, so in Japan, there may have been a real change of character in this respect.] [Footnote 133: The Mikado is meant. The feudal system did not grow up till many centuries later.] [Footnote 134: The N-á-h-i are sounded like our English word nigh, and therefore form but one syllable to the ear.] [Footnote 135: Anciently (and this custom is still followed in some parts of Japan) the hair of female children was cut short at the neck and allowed to hang down loosely till the age of eight. At twelve or thirteen the hair was generally bound up, though this ceremony was often frequently postponed till marriage. At the present day, the methods of doing the hair of female children, of grown-up girls, and of married women vary considerably.] [Footnote 136: The original of this stanza is obscure, and the native commentators have no satisfactory interpretation to offer.] [Footnote 137: In the original the title is "The Beggar's Dialogue," there being two poems, of which that here translated is the second. The first one, which is put into the mouth of an unmarried beggar, who takes a cheerier view of poverty, is not so well fitted for translation into English.] [Footnote 138: Because, according to the Buddhist doctrine of perpetually recurring births, it is at any given time more probable that the individual will come into the world in the shape of one of the lower animals.] [Footnote 139: A literal translation of the Japanese idiom.] [Footnote 140: The Japanese commentators are puzzled over the meaning of the passage "with skirt uplifted, drew near and fondled me." To the European mind there seems to be nothing obscure in it. The mother probably lifted her skirt to wipe her eyes, when she was crying. It is evidently a figurative way of saying that the mother was crying.] LOVE SONGS ON BEHOLDING THE MOUNTAIN _Composed by the commander of the forces of the Mikado Zhiyomei_ The long spring day is o'er, and dark despond My heart invades, and lets the tears flow down, As all alone I stand, when from beyond The mount our heav'n-sent monarch's throne doth crown. There breathes the twilight wind and turns my sleeve. Ah, gentle breeze! to turn, home to return, Is all my prayer; I cannot cease to grieve On this long toilsome road; I burn, I burn! Yes! the poor heart I used to think so brave Is all afire, though none the flame may see, Like to the salt-kilns there by Tsunu's wave, Where toil the fisher-maidens wearily. _Anon_. LOVE IS PAIN 'Twas said of old, and still the ages say, "The lover's path is full of doubt and woe." Of me they spake: I know not, nor can know, If she I sigh for will my love repay. My heart sinks on my breast; with bitter strife My heart is torn, and grief she cannot see. All unavailing is this agony To help the love that has become my life. _Anon_. HITOMARO TO HIS MISTRESS Tsunu's shore, Ihámi's brine, To all other eyes but mine Seem, perchance, a lifeless mere, And sands that ne'er the sailor cheer. Ah, well-a-day! no ports we boast, And dead the sea that bathes our coast; But yet I trow the wingèd breeze Sweeping at morn across our seas, And the waves at eventide From the depths of ocean wide, Onward to Watadzu bear The deep-green seaweed, rich and fair; And like that seaweed gently swaying, Wingèd breeze and waves obeying, So thy heart hath swayed and bent And crowned my love with thy content. But, dear heart! I must away, As fades the dew when shines the day; Nor aught my backward looks avail, Myriad times cast down the vale, From each turn the winding road Takes upward; for thy dear abode Farther and still farther lies, And hills on hills between us rise. Ah! bend ye down, ye cruel peaks, That the gate my fancy seeks, Where sits my pensive love alone, To mine eyes again be shown! _Hitomaro._ NO TIDINGS The year has come, the year has gone again, And still no tidings of mine absent love! Through the long days of spring all heaven above And earth beneath, re-echo with my pain. In dark cocoon my mother's silk-worms dwell; Like them, a captive, through the livelong day Alone I sit and sigh my soul away, For ne'er to any I my love may tell. Like to the pine-trees I must stand and pine,[141] While downward slanting fall the shades of night, Till my long sleeve of purest snowy white, With showers of tears, is steeped in bitter brine. _Anon._ HOMEWARD From Kaminábi's crest The clouds descending pour in sheeted rain, And, 'midst the gloom, the wind sighs o'er the plain:-- Oh! he that sadly press'd, Leaving my loving side, alone to roam Magami's des'late moor, has he reached home? _Anon._ THE MAIDEN AND THE DOG As the bold huntsman on some mountain path Waits for the stag he hopes may pass that way, So wait I for my love both night and day:-- Then bark not at him, as thou fearest my wrath. _Anon_. LOVE IS ALL Where in spring the sweetest flowers Fill Mount Kaminábi's bowers, Where in autumn dyed with red, Each ancient maple rears its head, And Aska's flood, with sedges lin'd, As a belt the mound doth bind:-- There see my heart--a reed that sways, Nor aught but love's swift stream obeys, And now, if like the dew, dear maid, Life must fade, then let it fade:-- My secret love is not in vain, For thou lov'st me back again. HUSBAND AND WIFE WIFE.-- Though other women's husbands ride Along the road in proud array, My husband, up the rough hill-side, On foot must wend his weary way. The grievous sight with bitter pain My bosom fills, and many a tear Steals down my cheek, and I would fain Do aught to help my husband dear. Come! take the mirror and the veil, My mother's parting gifts to me; In barter they must sure avail To buy an horse to carry thee! HUSBAND.-- And I should purchase me an horse, Must not my wife still sadly walk? No, no! though stony is our course, We'll trudge along and sweetly talk. _Anon._ HE COMES NOT He comes not! 'tis in vain I wait; The crane's wild cry strikes on mine ear, The tempest howls, the hour is late, Dark is the raven night and drear:-- And, as I thus stand sighing, The snowflakes round me flying Light on my sleeve, and freeze it crisp and clear. Sure 'tis too late! he cannot come; Yet trust I still that we may meet, As sailors gayly rowing home Trust in their ship so safe and fleet. Though waking hours conceal him, Oh! may my dreams reveal him, Filling the long, long night with converse sweet! _Anon_. HE AND SHE HE.--To Hatsúse's vale I'm come, To woo thee, darling, in thy home; But the rain rains down apace, And the snow veils ev'ry place, And now the pheasant 'gins to cry, And the cock crows to the sky:-- Now flees the night, the night hath fled, Let me in to share thy bed! SHE.--To Hatsúse's vale thou'rt come, To woo me, darling, in my home:-- But my mother sleeps hard by, And my father near doth lie; Should I but rise, I'll wake her ear; Should I go out, then he will hear:-- The night hath fled! it may not be, For our love's a mystery! _Anon._ THE PEARLS Oh! he my prince, that left my side O'er the twain Lover Hills[142] to roam, Saying that in far Kíshiu's tide He'd hunt for pearls to bring them home. When will he come? With trembling hope I hie me on the busy street, To ask the evening horoscope, That straightway thus gives answer meet-- The lover dear, my pretty girl, For whom thou waitest, comes not yet, Because he's seeking ev'ry pearl Where out at sea the billows fret. "He comes not yet, my pretty girl! Because among the riplets clear He's seeking, finding ev'ry pearl; 'Tis that delays thy lover dear. "Two days at least must come and go, Sev'n days at most will bring him back; 'Twas he himself that told me so:-- Then cease, fair maid, to cry Alack!" _Anon._ A DAMSEL CROSSING A BRIDGE Across the bridge, with scarlet lacquer glowing, That o'er the Katashiha's stream is laid, All trippingly a tender girl is going, In bodice blue and crimson skirt arrayed. None to escort her: would that I were knowing Whether alone she sleeps on virgin bed, Or if some spouse has won her by his wooing:-- Tell me her house! I'll ask the pretty maid! _Anon_. SECRET LOVE If as my spirit yearns for thine Thine yearns for mine, why thus delay? And yet, what answer might be mine If, pausing on her way, Some gossip bade me tell Whence the deep sighs that from my bosom swell? And thy dear name my lips should pass, My blushes would our love declare; No, no! I'll say my longing was To see the moon appear O'er yonder darkling hill; Yet 'tis on thee mine eyes would gaze their fill. _Anon_. THE OMEN[143] Yes! 'twas the hour when all my hopes Seemed idle as the dews that shake And tremble in their lotus-cups By deep Tsurúgi's lake-- 'Twas then the omen said:-- "Fear not! he'll come his own dear love to wed." What though my mother bids me flee Thy fond embrace? No heed I take; As pure, as deep my love for thee As Kiyosúmi's lake. One thought fills all my heart:-- When wilt thou come no more again to part? _Anon_. A MAIDEN'S LAMENT Full oft he swore, with accents true and tender, "Though years roll by, my love shall ne'er wax old!" And so to him my heart I did surrender, Clear as a mirror of pure burnished gold; And from that day, unlike the seaweed bending To ev'ry wave raised by the summer gust, Firm stood my heart, on him alone depending, As the bold seaman in his ship doth trust. Is it some cruel god that hath bereft me? Or hath some mortal stol'n away his heart? No word, no letter since the day he left me, Nor more he cometh, ne'er again to part! In vain I weep, in helpless, hopeless sorrow, From earliest morn until the close of day; In vain, till radiant dawn brings back the morrow, I sigh the weary, weary nights away. No need to tell how young I am and slender-- A little maid that in thy palm could lie:-- Still for some message comforting and tender, I pace the room in sad expectancy. _The Lady Sakanouhe_. RAIN AND SNOW Forever on Mikáne's crest, That soars so far away, The rain it rains in ceaseless sheets, The snow it snows all day. And ceaseless as the rain and snow That fall from heaven above, So ceaselessly, since first we met, I love my darling love. _Anon_. MOUNT MIKASH Oft in the misty spring The vapors roll o'er Mount Mikash's crest, While, pausing not to rest, The birds each morn with plaintive note do sing. Like to the mists of spring My heart is rent; for, like the song of birds, Still all unanswered ring The tender accents of my passionate words. I call her ev'ry day Till daylight fades away; I call her ev'ry night Till dawn restores the light;-- But my fond prayers are all too weak to bring My darling back to sight. _Akahito._ EVENING From the loud wave-washed shore Wend I my way, Hast'ning o'er many a flow'r, At close of day-- On past Kusaka's crest, Onward to thee, Sweet as the loveliest Flower of the lea! _Anon._ [Note.--A note to the original says: "The name of the composer of the above song was not given because he was of obscure rank," a reason which will sound strange to European ears.] FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 141: The play in the original is on the word Matsu, which has the double signification of "a pine-tree" and "to wait."] [Footnote 142: Mount Lover and Mount Lady-love (Se-yama and Imo-yama) in the province of Yamato.] [Footnote 143: The reference in this song is to an old superstition. It used to be supposed that the chance words caught from the mouths of passers-by would solve any doubt on questions to which it might otherwise be impossible to obtain an answer. This was called the yufu-ura, or "evening divination," on account of its being practised in the evening. It has been found impossible in this instance to follow the original very closely.] ELEGIES ON THE DEATH OF THE MIKADO TENJI[144] _By One of His Ladies_ Alas! poor mortal maid! unfit to hold High converse with the glorious gods above,[145] Each morn that breaks still finds me unconsoled, Each hour still hears me sighing for thy love. Wert thou a precious stone, I'd clasp thee tight Around mine arm; wert thou a silken dress I'd ne'er discard thee, either day or night:-- Last night, sweet love! I dreamt I saw thy face. ON THE DEATH OF THE POET'S MISTRESS How fondly did I yearn to gaze (For was there not the dear abode Of her whose love lit up my days?) On Karu's often-trodden road. But should I wander in and out, Morning and evening ceaselessly, Our loves were quickly noised about, For eyes enough there were to see. So, trusting that as tendrils part To meet again, so we might meet, As in deep rocky gorge my heart, Unseen, unknown, in secret beat. But like the sun at close of day, And as behind a cloud the moon, So passed my gentle love away, An autumn leaf ta'en all too soon. When came the fatal messenger, I knew not what to say or do:-- But who might sit and simply hear? Rather, methought, of all my woe. Haply one thousandth part might find Relief if my due feet once more, Where she so often trod, should wind Through Karu's streets and past her door. But mute that noise, nor all the crowd Could show her like, or soothe my care; So, calling her dear name aloud, I waved my sleeve in blank despair. _Hitomaro_. ELEGY ON THE POET'S WIFE The gulls that twitter on the rush-grown shore When fall the shades of night, That o'er the waves in loving pairs do soar When shines the morning light-- 'Tis said e'en these poor birds delight To nestle each beneath his darling's wing That, gently fluttering, Through the dark hours wards off the hoar-frost's might. Like to the stream that finds The downward path it never may retrace, Like to the shapeless winds, Poor mortals pass away without a trace:-- So she I love has left her place, And, in a corner of my widowed couch, Wrapped in the robe she wove me, I must crouch, Far from her fond embrace. _Nibi_. ON THE DEATH OF PRINCE HINAMI I When began the earth and heaven, By the banks of heaven's river[146] All the mighty gods assembled, All the mighty gods in council. And, for that her sov'reign grandeur The great goddess of the day-star Rul'd th' ethereal realms of heaven, Downward through the many-piled Welkin did they waft her grandson, Bidding him, till earth and heaven, Waxing old, should fall together, O'er the middle land of reed-plains, O'er the land of waving rice-fields, Spread abroad his power imperial. II But not his Kiyomi's palace:-- 'Tis his sov'reign's, hers the empire; And the sun's divine descendant, Ever soaring, passeth upward Through the heav'n's high rocky portals. III Why, dear prince, oh! why desert us? Did not all beneath the heaven, All that dwell in earth's four quarters, Pant, with eye and heart uplifted, As for heav'n-sent rain in summer, For thy rule of flow'ry fragrance, For thy plenilune of empire? Now on lone Mayúmi's hillock, Firm on everlasting columns, Pilest thou a lofty palace, Whence no more, when day is breaking, Sound thine edicts, awe-compelling. Day to day is swiftly gathered, Moon to moon, till e'er thy faithful Servants from thy palace vanish. _Hitomaro_. ON THE DEATH OF THE NUN RIGUWAÑ Ofttimes in far Corea didst thou hear Of our Cipango as a goodly land; And so, to parents and to brethren dear Bidding adieu, thou sailed'st to the strand Of these domains, that own th' imperial pow'r, Where glittering palaces unnumbered rise; Yet such might please thee not, nor many a bow'r Where village homesteads greet the pilgrim's eyes:-- But in this spot, at Sahoyáma's base, Some secret influence bade thee find thy rest-- Bade seek us out with loving eagerness, As seeks the weeping infant for the breast. And here with aliens thou didst choose to dwell, Year in, year out, in deepest sympathy; And here thou buildest thee an holy cell; And so the peaceful years went gliding by. But ah! what living thing mote yet avoid Death's dreary summons?--And thine hour did sound When all the friends on whom thine heart relied Slept on strange pillows on the mossy ground. So, while the moon lit up Kasuga's crest, O'er Sahogáha's flood thy corse they bore To fill a tomb upon yon mountain's breast, And dwell in darkness drear for evermore. No words, alas! nor efforts can avail:-- Nought can I do, poor solitary child! Nought can I do but make my bitter wail, And pace the room with cries and gestures wild, Ceaselessly weeping, till my snowy sleeve Is wet with tears. Who knows? Perchance, again Wafted, they're borne upon the sighs I heave, On 'Arima's far distant heights to rain. _Sakanouhe_. ON THE POET'S SON FURUBI Sev'n are the treasures mortals most do prize, But I regard them not:-- One only jewel could delight mine eyes-- The child that I begot. My darling boy, who with the morning sun Began his joyous day; Nor ever left me, but with child-like fun Would make me help him play; Who'd take my hand when eve its shadows spread, Saying, "I'm sleepy grown; 'Twixt thee and mother I would lay my head:-- Oh! leave me not alone!" Then with his pretty prattle in mine ears, I'd lie awake and scan The good and evil of the coming years, And see the child a man. And, as the seaman trusts his bark, I'd trust That nought could harm the boy:-- Alas! I wist not that the whirling gust Would shipwreck all my joy! Then with despairing, helpless hands I grasp'd The sacred mirror's[147] sphere; And round my shoulder I my garments clasp'd, And prayed with many a tear:-- "'Tis yours, great gods, that dwell in heav'n on high, Great gods of earth! 'tis yours To heed, or heed not, a poor father's cry, Who worships and implores!" Alas! vain pray'rs, that more no more avail! He languished day by day, Till e'en his infant speech began to fail, And life soon ebbed away. Stagg'ring with grief I strike my sobbing breast, And wildly dance and groan:-- Ah! such is life! the child that I caress'd Far from mine arms hath flown. SHORT STANZA ON THE SAME OCCASION So young, so young! he cannot know the way:-- On Hades' porter I'll a bribe bestow, That on his shoulders the dear infant may Be safely carried to the realms below. _Attributed to Okura._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 144: Died A.D. 671.] [Footnote 145: Viz., with the departed and deified Mikado.] [Footnote 146: The Milky Way.] [Footnote 147: The part played by the mirror in the devotions of the Japanese is carried back by them to a tale in their mythology which relates the disappearance into a cavern of the Sun-goddess Amaterasu, and the manner in which she was enticed forth by being led to believe that her reflection in a mirror that was shown to her was another deity more lovely than herself.] MISCELLANEOUS POEMS VIEW FROM MOUNT KAGO _Composed by the Mikado Zhiyomei_ Countless are the mountain-chains Tow'ring o'er Cipango's plains; But fairest is Mount Kago's peak, Whose heav'nward soaring heights I seek, And gaze on all my realms beneath-- Gaze on the land where vapors wreath O'er many a cot; gaze on the sea, Where cry the sea-gulls merrily. Yes! 'tis a very pleasant land, Fill'd with joys on either hand, Sweeter than aught beneath the sky, Dear islands of the dragon-fly![148] THE MIKADO'S BOW[149] When the dawn is shining, He takes it up and fondles it with pride; When the day's declining, He lays it by his pillow's side. Hark to the twanging of the string! This is the Bow of our great Lord and King! Now to the morning chase they ride, Now to the chase again at eventide: Hark to the twanging of the string! This is the Bow of our great Lord and King! _Hashibito_. SPRING AND AUTUMN When winter turns to spring, Birds that were songless make their songs resound, Flow'rs that were flow'rless cover all the ground; Yet 'tis no perfect thing:-- I cannot walk, so tangled is each hill; So thick the herbs I cannot pluck my fill. But in the autumn-tide I cull the scarlet leaves and love them dear, And let the green leaves stay, with many a tear, All on the fair hill-side:-- No time so sweet as that. Away! Away! Autumn's the time I fain would keep alway. _Ohogimi._ SPRING When winter turns to spring, The dews of morn in pearly radiance lie, The mists of eve rise circling to the sky, And Kaminábi's thickets ring With the sweet notes the nightingale doth sing. _Anon._ RECOLLECTIONS OF MY CHILDREN Ne'er a melon can I eat, But calls to mind my children dear; Ne'er a chestnut crisp and sweet, But makes the lov'd ones seem more near. Whence did they come, my life to cheer? Before mine eyes they seem to sweep, So that I may not even sleep. What use to me the gold and silver hoard? What use to me the gems most rich and rare? Brighter by far--aye! bright beyond compare-- The joys my children to my heart afford! _Yamagami-no Okura._ THE BROOK OF HATSÚSE Pure is Hatsúse mountain-brook-- So pure it mirrors all the clouds of heaven; Yet here no fishermen for shelter look When sailing home at even:-- 'Tis that there are no sandy reaches, Nor sheltering beaches, Where the frail craft might find some shelt'ring nook. Ah, well-a-day! we have no sandy reaches:-- But heed that not; Nor shelving beaches:-- But heed that not! Come a-jostling and a-hustling O'er our billows gayly bustling:-- Come, all ye boats, and anchor in this spot! _Anon._ LINES TO A FRIEND Japan is not a land where men need pray, For 'tis itself divine:-- Yet do I lift my voice in prayer and say:-- "May ev'ry joy be thine! And may I too, if thou those joys attain, Live on to see thee blest!" Such the fond prayer, that, like the restless main, Will rise within my breast. _Hitomaro._ A VERY ANCIENT ODE Mountains and ocean-waves Around me lie; Forever the mountain-chains Tower to the sky; Fixed is the ocean Immutably:-- Man is a thing of nought, Born but to die! _Anon._ THE BRIDGE TO HEAVEN[150] Oh! that that ancient bridge, Hanging 'twixt heaven and earth, were longer still! Oh! that yon tow'ring mountain-ridge So boldly tow'ring, tow'red more boldly still! Then from the moon on high I'd fetch some drops of the life-giving stream-- A gift that might beseem Our Lord, the King, to make him live for aye! _Anon._ ODE TO THE CUCKOO Nightingales built the nest Where, as a lonely guest, First thy young head did rest, Cuckoo, so dear! Strange to the father-bird, Strange to the mother-bird, Sounded the note they heard, Tender and clear. Fleeing thy native bow'rs, Bright with the silv'ry flow'rs, Oft in the summer hours Hither thou fliest; Light'st on some orange tall, Scatt'ring the blossoms all, And, while around they fall, Ceaselessly criest. Through, through the livelong day Soundeth thy roundelay, Never its accents may Pall on mine ear:-- Come, take a bribe of me! Ne'er to far regions flee; Dwell on mine orange-tree, Cuckoo, so dear! _Anon._ THE ASCENT OF MOUNT TSUKÚBA When my lord, who fain would look on Great Tsukúba, double-crested, To the highlands of Hitachi Bent his steps, then I, his servant, Panting with the heats of summer, Down my brow the sweat-drops dripping, Breathlessly toil'd onward, upward, Tangled roots of timber clutching. "There, my lord! behold the prospect!" Cried I, when we scaled the summit. And the gracious goddess gave us Smiling welcome, while her consort Condescended to admit us Into these, his sacred precincts, O'er Tsukúba, double-crested, Where the clouds do have their dwelling. And the rain forever raineth, Shedding his divine refulgence, And revealing to our vision Ev'ry landmark that in darkness And in shapeless gloom was shrouded;-- Till for joy our belts we loosen'd, Casting off constraint, and sported. Danker now than in the dulcet Spring-time grew the summer grasses; Yet to-day our bliss was boundless. _Anon._ COUPLET When the great men of old pass'd by this way, Could e'en their pleasures vie with ours to-day? _Anon._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 148: One of the ancient names of Japan, given to the country on account of a supposed resemblance in shape to that insect. The dragon-flies of Japan are various and very beautiful.] [Footnote 149: The Mikado referred to is Zhiyomei, who died in A.D. 641.] [Footnote 150: The poet alludes to the so-called Ama-no-Ukihashi, or "floating bridge of heaven"--the bridge by which, according to the Japanese mythology, the gods passed up and down in the days of old.] SHORT STANZAS I Spring, spring has come, while yet the landscape bears Its fleecy burden of unmelted snow! Now may the zephyr gently 'gin to blow, To melt the nightingale's sweet frozen tears. _Anon._ II Amid the branches of the silv'ry bowers The nightingale doth sing: perchance he knows That spring hath come, and takes the later snows For the white petals of the plum's sweet flowers.[151] _Sosei._ III Too lightly woven must the garments be-- Garments of mist--that clothe the coming spring:-- In wild disorder see them fluttering Soon as the zephyr breathes adown the lea. _Yukihara._ IV Heedless that now the mists of spring do rise, Why fly the wild geese northward?--Can it be Their native home is fairer to their eyes, Though no sweet flowers blossom on its lea? _Ise_. V If earth but ceased to offer to my sight The beauteous cherry-trees when blossoming, Ah! then indeed, with peaceful, pure delight, My heart might revel in the joys of spring! _Narihira._ VI Tell me, doth any know the dark recess Where dwell the winds that scatter the spring flow'rs? Hide it not from me! By the heav'nly pow'rs, I'll search them out to upbraid their wickedness! _Sosei._ VII No man so callous but he heaves a sigh When o'er his head the withered cherry-flowers Come flutt'ring down.--Who knows? the spring's soft show'rs May be but tears shed by the sorrowing sky. _Kuronushi._ VIII Whom would your cries, with artful calumny, Accuse of scatt'ring the pale cherry-flow'rs? 'Tis your own pinions flitting through these bow'rs That raise the gust which makes them fall and die! _Sosei._ IX In blossoms the wistaria-tree to-day Breaks forth, that sweep the wavelets of my lake:-- When will the mountain cuckoo come and make The garden vocal with his first sweet lay? _Attributed to Hitomaro._ X Oh, lotus leaf! I dreamt that the wide earth Held nought more pure than thee--held nought more true:-- Why, then, when on thee rolls a drop of dew, Pretend that 'tis a gem of priceless worth?[152] _Heñzeu._ XI Can I be dreaming? 'Twas but yesterday We planted out each tender shoot again;[153] And now the autumn breeze sighs o'er the plain, Where fields of yellow rice confess its sway. _Anon._ XII A thousand thoughts of tender, vague regret, Crowd on my soul, what time I stand and gaze On the soft-shining autumn moon; and yet Not to me only speaks her silv'ry haze. _Chisato._ XIII What bark impelled by autumn's fresh'ning gale Comes speeding t'ward me?--'Tis the wild geese arriv'n Across the fathomless expanse of Heav'n, And lifting up their voices for a sail! _Anon._ XIV _Autumn_ The silv'ry dewdrops that in autumn light Upon the moors, must surely jewels be; For there they hang all over hill and lea, Strung on the threads the spiders weave so tight. _Asayasu._ XV _Autumn_ The trees and herbage, as the year doth wane, For gold and russet leave their former hue-- All but the wave-toss'd flow'rets of the main, That never yet chill autumn's empire knew. _Yasuhide._ XVI _Autumn_ The dews are all of one pale silv'ry white:-- Then tell me, if thou canst, oh! tell me why These silv'ry dews so marvellously dye The autumn leaves a myriad colors bright? _Toshiyuki._ XVII _Autumn_ The warp is hoar-frost and the woof is dew-- Too frail, alas! the warp and woof to be:-- For scarce the woods their damask robes endue, When, torn and soiled, they flutter o'er the lea. _Sekiwo._ XVIII _Autumn_ E'en when on earth the thund'ring gods held sway Was such a sight beheld?--Calm Tatsta's flood, Stain'd, as by Chinese art, with hues of blood, Rolls o'er Yamáto's peaceful fields away. _Narihira._ XIX _Winter_ When falls the snow, lo! ev'ry herb and tree, That in seclusion through the wintry hours Long time had been held fast, breaks forth in flow'rs That ne'er in spring were known upon the lea. _Tsurayuki._ XX _Winter_ When from the skies, that wintry gloom enshrouds, The blossoms fall and flutter round my head, Methinks the spring e'en now his light must shed O'er heavenly lands that lie beyond the clouds. _Fukayabu._ XXI _Congratulations_ A thousand years of happy life be thine! Live on, my lord, till what are pebbles now, By age united, to great rocks shall grow, Whose venerable sides the moss doth line! _Anon._ XXII _Congratulations_[154] Of all the days and months that hurry by Nor leave a trace, how long the weary tale! And yet how few the springs when in the vale On the dear flow'rets I may feast mine eye! _Okikaze._ XXIII _Congratulations_ If ever mortal in the days of yore By Heav'n a thousand years of life was lent, I wot not; but if never seen before, Be thou the man to make the precedent. _Sosei._ XXIV _Parting_ Mine oft-reiterated pray'rs in vain The parting guest would stay: Oh, cherry-flow'rs! Pour down your petals, that from out these bow'rs He ne'er may find the homeward path again! _Anon._ XXV _Travelling_ With roseate hues that pierce th' autumnal haze The spreading dawn lights up Akashi's shore; But the fair ship, alas! is seen no more:-- An island veils it from my loving gaze. _Attributed to Hitomaro._ XXVI _Travelling_ Miyako-bird! if not in vain men give Thy pleasing name, my question deign to hear:-- And has she pass'd away, my darling dear, Or doth she still for Narihira live? _Narihira._ * * * * * XXVIII _Love_ The barest ledge of rock, if but a seed Alight upon it, lets the pine-tree grow:-- If, then, thy love for me be love indeed, We'll come together, dear; it must be so! _Anon._ XXIX _Love_ There is on earth a thing more bootless still Than to write figures on a running stream:-- And that thing is (believe me if you will) To dream of one who ne'er of you doth dream. _Anon._ * * * * * XXXI _Love_ Since that first night when, bath'd in hopeless tears, I sank asleep, and he I love did seem To visit me, I welcome ev'ry dream, Sure that they come as heav'n-sent messengers. _Komachi._ XXXII _Love_ Methinks my tenderness the grass must be, Clothing some mountain desolate and lone; For though it daily grows luxuriantly, To ev'ry mortal eye 'tis still unknown. _Yoshiki._ XXXIII _Love_ Upon the causeway through the land of dreams Surely the dews must plentifully light:-- For when I've wandered up and down all night, My sleeve's so wet that nought will dry its streams. _Tsurayuki._ XXXIV _Love_ Fast fall the silv'ry dews, albeit not yet 'Tis autumn weather; for each drop's a tear, Shed till the pillow of my hand is wet, As I wake from dreaming of my dear. _Anon._ XXXV _Love_ I ask'd my soul where springs th' ill-omened seed That bears the herb of dull forgetfulness;[155] And answer straightway came:--Th' accursed weed Grows in that heart which knows no tenderness. _Sosei._ XXXVI _Elegies_[156] So frail our life, perchance to-morrow's sun May never rise for me. Ah! well-a-day! Till comes the twilight of the sad to-day, I'll mourn for thee, O thou beloved one! _Tsurayuki._ XXXVII _Elegies_ The perfume is the same, the same the hue As that which erst my senses did delight:-- But he who planted the fair avenue Is here no more, alas! to please my sight! _Tsurayuki._ XXXVIII _Elegies_ One thing, alas! more fleeting have I seen Than wither'd leaves driv'n by the autumn gust:-- Yea, evanescent as the whirling dust Is man's brief passage o'er this mortal scene! _Chisato._ XXXIX Softly the dews upon my forehead light:-- From off the oars, perchance, as feather'd spray, They drop, while some fair skiff bends on her way Across the Heav'nly Stream[157] on starlit night. _Anon._ XL What though the waters of that antique rill That flows along the heath, no more are cold; Those who remember what it was of old Go forth to draw them in their buckets still. _Anon._ XLI[158] Old Age is not a friend I wish to meet; And if some day to see me he should come, I'd lock the door as he walk'd up the street, And cry, "Most honored sir! I'm not at home!" _Anon_. XLII[159] Yes, I am old; but yet with doleful stour I will not choose to rail 'gainst Fate's decree. An' I had not grown old, then ne'er for me Had dawned the day that brings this golden hour. _Toshiyuki._ XLIII[160] The roaring torrent scatters far and near Its silv'ry drops:--Oh! let me pick them up! For when of grief I drain some day the cup, Each will do service as a bitter tear. _Yukihira._ XLIV _Composed on beholding the cascade of Otoha on Mount Hiye_ Long years, methinks, of sorrow and of care Must have pass'd over the old fountain-head Of the cascade; for, like a silv'ry thread, It rolls adown, nor shows one jet-black hair. _Tadamine._ XLV If e'en that grot where thou didst seek release From worldly strife in lonesome mountain glen Should find thee sometimes sorrowful, ah! then Where mayest thou farther flee to search for peace? _Mitsune._ XLVI[161] So close thy friendly roof, so near the spring, That though not yet dull winter hath gone hence, The wind that bloweth o'er our parting fence From thee to me the first gay flow'rs doth bring. _Fukayabu._ XLVII If to this frame of mine in spring's first hour, When o'er the moor the lightsome mists do curl, Might but be lent the shape of some fair flower, Haply thou 'dst deign to pluck me, cruel girl! _Okikaze._ XLVIII "Love me, sweet girl! thy love is all I ask!" "Love thee?" she laughing cries; "I love thee not!" "Why, then I'll cease to love thee on the spot, Since loving thee is such a thankless task!" _Anon._ XLIX A youth once lov'd me, and his love I spurn'd. But see the vengeance of the pow'rs above On cold indiff'rence:--now 'tis I that love, And my fond love, alas! is not returned. _Anon._ L Beneath love's heavy weight my falt'ring soul Plods, like the packman, o'er life's dusty road. Oh! that some friendly hand would find a pole To ease my shoulders of their grievous load! _Anon._ FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 151: The plum-tree, cherry-tree, etc., are in Japan cultivated, not for their fruit, but for their blossoms. Together with the wistaria, the lotus, the iris, the lespedeza, and a few others, these take the place which is occupied in the West by the rose, the lily, the violet, etc.] [Footnote 152: The lotus is the Buddhist emblem of purity, and the lotus growing out of the bud is a frequent metaphor for the heart that remains unsullied by contact with the world.] [Footnote 153: The transplanting of the rice occupies the whole rural population during the month of June, when men and women may all be seen working in the fields, knee-deep in water. The crops are gathered in October.] [Footnote 154: This ode was composed on beholding a screen presented to the Empress by Prince Sadayasu at the festival held in honor of her fiftieth birthday, whereon was painted a man seated beneath the falling cherry blossoms and watching them flutter down.] [Footnote 155: The "Herb of Forgetfulness" answers in the poetical diction of the Japanese to the classical waters Lethe.] [Footnote 156: It is the young poet Ki-no-Tomonori who is mourned in this stanza.] [Footnote 157: The Milky Way.] [Footnote 158: This stanza is remarkable for being (so far as the present writer is aware) the only instance in Japanese literature of that direct impersonation of an abstract idea which is so very strongly marked a characteristic of Western thoughts and modes of expression.] [Footnote 159: Composed on the occasion of a feast at the palace.] [Footnote 160: One of a number of stanzas composed by a party of courtiers who visited the cascade of Nunobiki, near the site of the modern treaty-port of Kobe.] [Footnote 161: This stanza was composed and sent to the owner of the neighboring house on the last day of winter, when the wind had blown some snow across from it into the poet's dwelling.] * * * * * THE DRAMA OF JAPAN [_Selected Plays, translated by Basil Hall Chamberlain_] NAKAMITSU DRAMATIS PERSONÆ MITSUNAKA, Lord of the Horse to the Emperor Murakami. BIJIYAU, Son of Mitsunaka, and still a boy. NAKAMITSU, retainer of Mitsunaka. KAUZHIYU, son of Nakamitsu, and foster-brother of Bijiyau. WESHIÑ, Abbot of the great monastery on Mount Hiyei, near Kiyauto (Miaco). The Chorus. Scene.--The Temple of Chiynuzañzhi, and my Lord Mitsunaka's palace in Kiyauto. Time.--Early in the Tenth Century. NAKAMITSU PART I Scene I.--Near the Monastery of Chiynuzañzhi _Enter Nakamitsu._ NAKAMITSU.--I am Nakamitsu, a man of the Fujihara clan, and retainer of Mitsunaka, Lord of Tada in the land of Setsushiu. Now you must know that my lord hath an only son, and him hath he sent to a certain monastery amid the mountains named Chiynuzañzhi, while I, too, have a son called Kauzhiyu, who is gone as page to young my lord. But young my lord doth not condescend to apply his mind unto study, loving rather nothing so well as to spend from morn to night in quarrelling and disturbance. Wherefore, thinking doubtless to disinherit young my lord, my lord already this many a time, hath sent his messengers to the temple with summons to return home to Kiyauto. Nevertheless, as he cometh not, me hath he now sent on the same errand. [_The above words are supposed to be spoken during the journey, and Nakamitsu now arrives at the monastery[162]._] Prithee! is any within? KAUZHIYU.--Who is it that deigneth to ask admittance? NAKAMITSU.--What! Is that Kauzhiyu? Tell young my lord that I have come to fetch him home. KAUZHIYU.--Your commands shall be obeyed. [_He goes to his master's apartment._] How shall I dare address my lord? Nakamitsu is come to fetch my lord. BIJIYAU.--Call him hither. KAUZHIYU.--Your commands shall be obeyed. [_He returns to the outer hall and addresses his father._] Condescend to come this way. [_They go to Bijiyau's apartment._ NAKAMITSU.--It is long since I was last here. BIJIYAU.--And what is it that hath now brought thee? NAKAMITSU.--'Tis that my lord, your father, hath sent me to bid your lordship follow me home without delay. BIJIYAU.--Shall I, then, go without saying anything to the priests, my preceptors? NAKAMITSU.--Yes; if the priests be told, they will surely wish to see your lordship on the way, whereas, my lord, your father's commands were, that I alone was to escort you. BIJIYAU.--Then we will away. NAKAMITSU.--Kauzhiyu! thou, too, shalt accompany thy master. KAUZHIYU.--Your commands shall be obeyed. [_They depart from the temple, and arrive at Mitsunaka's palace._ NAKAMITSU.--How shall I dare address my lord? I have brought hither his lordship Bijiyau. MITSUNAKA.--Well, Bijiyau! my only reason for sending thee up to the monastery was to help thy learning; and I would fain begin, by hearing thee read aloud from the Scriptures. And with these words, and bidding him read on, He lays on ebon desk before his son The sacred text, in golden letters writ. BIJIYAU.--But how may he who never bent his wit To make the pencil trace Asaka's[163] line Spell out one letter of the book divine? In vain, in vain his sire's behest he hears:-- Nought may he do but choke with idle tears. MITSUNAKA.--Ah! surely 'tis that, being my child, he respecteth the Scriptures too deeply, and chooseth not to read them except for purposes of devotion. What of verse-making, then? BIJIYAU.--I cannot make any. MITSUNAKA.--And music? [_Bijiyau makes no answer._ MITSUNAKA.--What! no reply? Hast lost thy tongue, young fool? CHORUS.--Whom, then, to profit wentest thou to school? And can it be that e'en a father's word, Like snow that falling melts, is scarcely heard, But 'tis unheeded? Ah! 'twill drive me wild To point thee out to strangers as my child! No sooner said, than out the scabbard flies His trusty sword, and with fierce flashing eyes Forward he darts; but rushing in between, Good Nakamitsu checks the bloody scene-- Firm, though respectful, stays his master's arm, And saves the lad from perilous alarm. NAKAMITSU.--Good my lord, deign to be merciful this once! MITSUNAKA.--Why stayed'st thou my hand? Haste thou now and slay Bijiyau with this my sword. NAKAMITSU.--Your commands shall be obeyed. [_He retires into another apartment._] What is this horror unutterable? 'Tis no mere passing fit of anger. What shall I do?--Ah! I have it! I have it! I will take upon myself to contrive some plan for his escape. Kauzhiyu, Kauzhiyu, art thou there? KAUZHIYU.--Behold me at thy service. NAKAMITSU.--Where is my lord Bijiyau? KAUZHIYU.--All my prayers have been unavailing to make him leave this spot. NAKAMITSU.--But why will he not seek refuge somewhere? Here am I come from my lord, his father, as a messenger of death! [_Bijiyau shows himself._ BIJIYAU.--That I am alive here at this moment is thy doing. But through the lattice I heard my father's words to thee just now. Little imports it an' I die or live, But 'tis for thee I cannot choose but grieve If thou do vex thy lord: to avert his ire Strike off my head, and show it to my sire! NAKAMITSU.--My lord, deign to be calm! I will take upon myself to contrive some plan for your escape.--What! say you a messenger hath come? My heart sinks within me.--What! another messenger? [_These are messengers from Mitsunaka to ask whether his orders be not yet carried into execution_. NAKAMITSU.--Alas! each joy, each grief we see unfurl'd Rewards some action in a former world. KAUZHIYU.--In ages past thou sinned; BIJIYAU.--And to-day CHORUS.--Comes retribution! think not then to say 'Tis others' fault, nor foolishly upbraid The lot thyself for thine own self hast made. Say not the world's askew! with idle prate Of never-ending grief the hour grows late. Strike off my head! with many a tear he cries, And might, in sooth, draw tears from any eyes.[164] NAKAMITSU.--Ah! young my lord, were I but of like age with thee, how readily would I not redeem thy life at the cost of mine own! Alas! that so easy a sacrifice should not be possible! KAUZHIYU.--Father, I would make bold to speak a word unto thee. NAKAMITSU.--What may it be? KAUZHIYU.--'Tis, father, that the words thou hast just spoken have found a lodgment in mine ears. Thy charge, truly, is Mitsunaka; but Mitsunaka's son is mine. This, if any, is a great occasion, and my years point to me as of right the chief actor in it. Be quick! be quick! strike off my head, and show it to Mitsunaka[165] as the head of my lord Bijiyau! NAKAMITSU.--Thou'st spoken truly, Nakamitsu cries, And the long sword from out his scabbard flies, What time he strides behind his boy. BIJIYAU.--But no! The youthful lord on such stupendous woe May never gaze unmov'd; with bitter wail The father's sleeve he clasps. Nought may 't avail, He weeping cries, e'en should the deed be done, For I will slay myself if falls thy son. KAUZHIYU.--But 'tis the rule--a rule of good renown-- That for his lord a warrior must lay down His lesser life. BIJIYAU.-- But e'en if lesser, yet He, too, is human; neither shouldst forget What shame will e'er be mine if I survive NAKAMITSU.--Alas! alas! and 'tis for death they strive! KAUZHIYU.--Me deign to hear. BIJIYAU.--No! mine the truer word! NAKAMITSU.--Ah! this my child! KAUZHIYU.--And there behold thy lord! NAKAMITSU.--Betwixt the two see Nakamitsu stand:-- CHORUS.--His own brave life, an' 'twere his lord's command, Were freely giv'n; but now, in sore dismay, E'en his fierce courage fades and droops away. BIJIYAU.--Why heed a life my sire himself holds cheap? Nought may thy pity do but sink more deep My soul in wretchedness. KAUZHIYU.--Mistake me not! Think not 'tis pity moves me; but a blot The martial honor of our house will stain, If, when I might have bled, my lord be slain. CHORUS.--On either side 'tis infancy that pleads. NAKAMITSU.--And yet how well they've learnt where duty leads! CHORUS.--Dear is thy lord! NAKAMITSU.--And mine own child how dear! CHORUS.--But Nakamitsu knows full well that ne'er, To save the child his craven heart ador'd, Warrior yet dar'd lay hands upon his lord. He to the left, the trembling father cries, Was sure my boy, nor lifts his tear-stain'd eyes:-- A flash, a moment, the fell sabre gleams, And sends his infant to the land of dreams.[166] NAKAMITSU.--Oh, horror unutterable! to think that I should have slain mine own innocent child! But I must go and inform my lord. [_He goes to Mitsunaka's apartment._ How shall I dare to address my lord? I have slain my lord Bijiyau according to your commands. MITSUNAKA.--So thou hast killed the fellow? I trow his last moments were those of a coward. Is it not true? NAKAMITSU.--Not so, my lord. As I stood there aghast, holding in my hand the sword your lordship gave me, your son called out, "Why doth Nakamitsu thus delay?" and those were the last words he was pleased to utter. MITSUNAKA.--As thou well knowest, Bijiyau was mine only child. Go and call thy son Kauzhiyu, and I will adopt him as mine heir. NAKAMITSU.--Kauzhiyu, my lord, in despair at being separated from young my lord, hath cut off his locks,[167] and vanished none knows whither. I, too, thy gracious license would obtain. Hence to depart, and in some holy fane To join the priesthood. MITSUNAKA.--Harsh was my decree, Yet can I think what thy heart's grief must be That as its own my recreant child receiv'd, And now of both its children is bereav'd. But 'tis a rule of universal sway That a retainer ever must obey. CHORUS.--Thus would my lord, with many a suasion fond, Have rais'd poor Nakamitsu from despond. Nor eke himself, with heart all stony hard, Might, as a father, ev'ry pang discard:-- Behold him now, oh! lamentable sight! O'er his own son perform the fun'ral rite. PART II Scene I.--Mitsunaka's Palace _Some time is supposed to have elapsed, and Weshiñ, abbot of the monastery on Mount Hiyei, comes down from that retreat to Mitsunaka's palace in the capital, bringing with him Bijiyau, who had been persuaded by Nakamitsu to take refuge with the holy man._ WESHIÑ.--I am the priest Weshiñ, and am hastening on my way to my lord Mitsunaka's palace, whither certain motives guide me. [_They arrive at the gate and he cries out_:] I would fain crave admittance. NAKAMITSU.--Who is it that asks to be admitted? Ah! 'tis his reverence, Weshiñ. WESHIÑ.--Alas, for poor Kauzhiyu! Nakamitsu.--Yes; but prithee speak not of this before his lordship. [_He goes to Mitsunaka's apartment._] How shall I venture to address my lord? His reverence, Weshiñ, hath arrived from Mount Hiyei. MITSUNAKA.--Call him hither. Nakamitsu.--Your commands shall be obeyed. [_He goes to the room where Weshiñ is waiting, and says_:] Be pleased to pass this way. [_They enter Mitsunaka's apartment._ MITSUNAKA.--What may it be that has brought your reverence here to-day? WESHIÑ.--'Tis this, and this only. I come desiring to speak to your lordship anent my lord Bijiyau. MITSUNAKA.--Respecting him I gave orders to Nakamitsu, which orders have been carried out. WESHIÑ.--Ah! my lord, 'tis that, 'tis that I would discourse of. Be not agitated, but graciously deign to give me thine attention while I speak. Thou didst indeed command that my lord Bijiyau's head should be struck off. But never might Nakamitsu prevail upon himself to lay hands on one to whom, as his lord, he knew himself bound in reverence through all the changing scenes of the Three Worlds.[168] Wherefore he slew his own son, Kauzhiyu, to save my lord Bijiyau's life. And now here I come bringing Bijiyau with me, and would humbly supplicate thee to forgive one who was so loved that a man hath given his own son in exchange for him.[169] MITSUNAKA.--Then he was a coward, as I thought! Wherefore, if Kauzhiyu was sacrificed, did he, too, not slay himself? WESHIÑ.--My lord, put all other thoughts aside, and if it be only as an act of piety towards Kauzhiyu's soul--curse not thy son! CHORUS.--As thus the good man speaks, Tears of entreaty pour adown his cheeks. The father hears, and e'en his ruthless breast, Soft'ning at last, admits the fond request, While Nakamitsu, crowning their delight, The flow'ry wine brings forth, and cups that might Have served the fays: but who would choose to set Their fav'rite's bliss that, home returning, wet His grandson's grandson's still remoter line, Beside the joy that doth itself entwine Round the fond hearts of father and of son, Parted and now in the same life made one? WESHIÑ.--Prithee, Nakamitsu, wilt thou not dance and sing to us awhile, in honor of this halcyon hour? [_During the following song Nakamitsu dances._ NAKAMITSU.--Water-bird, left all alone Now thy little mate hath flown, On the billows to and fro Flutter, flutter, full of woe! CHORUS.--Full of woe, so full of woe, Flutter, flutter, full of woe! NAKAMITSU.--Ah! if my darling were but here to-day I'd make the two together dance and play While I beat time, and, gazing on my boy, Instead of tears of grief, shed tears of joy! CHORUS.--Behold him weep! NAKAMITSU.--But the gay throng perceive Nought but the rhythmic waving of my sleeve. CHORUS.--Hither and thither, flutt'ring in the wind. NAKAMITSU.--Above, beneath, with many a dewdrop lin'd! CHORUS.--Ah, dewy tears! in this our world of woe If any stay, the friends he loves must go:-- Thus 'tis ordain'd, and he that smiles to-day To-morrow owns blank desolation's sway. But now 'tis time to part, the good priest cries-- Him his disciple follows, and they rise; While Nakamitsu walking in their train, The palanquin escorts; for he would fain Last counsel give: "Beware, young lord, beware! Nor cease from toilsome study; for if e'er Thy sire again be anger'd, all is lost!" Then takes his leave, low bending to the dust. Forward they're borne; but Nakamitsu stays, Watching and weeping with heart-broken gaze, And, mutely weeping, thinks how ne'er again He'll see his child borne homeward o'er the plain. ABSTRACTION [_The Japanese title is "Za-zeñ"._] DRAMATIS PERSONÆ A HUSBAND. HIS WIFE. TARAUKUWAZHIYA, their servant. ABSTRACTION Scene I.--A Room in a Private House in Kiyauto HUSBAND.--I am a resident in the suburbs of the metropolis. On the occasion of a recent journey down[170] East, I was served (at a tea-house) in the post-town of Nogami, in the province of Mino, by a girl called Hana, who, having since then heard of my return to the capital, has followed me up here, and settled down at Kita-Shira-kaha, where she expects me this evening according to a promise made by letter. But my vixen of a wife has got scent of the affair and thus made it difficult for me to go. So what I mean to do is to call her, and tell her some pretty fable that may set me free. Halloo! halloo! are you there, pray? are you there? WIFE.--So it seems you are pleased to call me. What may it be that makes you thus call me? HUSBAND.--Well, please to come in. WIFE.--Your commands are obeyed. HUSBAND.--My reason for calling you is just simply this: I want to tell you how much my spirits have been affected by continual dreams that I have had. That is why I have called you. WIFE.--You are talking rubbish. Dreams proceed from organic disturbance, and do not come true; so pray don't trouble your head about them. HUSBAND.--What you say is quite correct. Dreams, proceeding as they do from organic disturbance, do not come true nine times out of ten. Still, mine have affected my spirits to such an extent, that I think of making some pilgrimage or other to offer up prayers both on your behalf and on my own. WIFE.--Then where shall you go? HUSBAND.--I mean (to say nothing of those in the metropolis and in the suburbs) to worship at every Shiñtau shrine and every Buddhist temple throughout the land. WIFE.--No, no! I won't allow you to go out of the house for a single hour. If you are so completely bent upon it, choose some devotion that can be performed at home. HUSBAND.--Some devotion to be performed at home? What devotion could it be? WIFE.--Burning incense on your arm or on your head.[171] HUSBAND.--How thoughtlessly you do talk! What! is a devotion like that to suit _me_--a layman if ever there was one? WIFE.--I won't tolerate any devotion that cannot be performed at home. HUSBAND.--Well, I never! You _are_ one for talking at random. Hang it! what devotion shall it be? [_He reflects a few moments._] Ah! I have it! I will perform the devotion of abstraction. WIFE.--Abstraction? What is that? HUSBAND.--Your want of familiarity with the term is but natural. It is a devotion that was practised in days of old by Saint Daruma[172]--(blessings on him!) you put your head under what is called the "abstraction blanket," and obtain salvation by forgetting all things past and to come--a most difficult form of devotion. WIFE.--About how long does it take? HUSBAND.--Well, I should say about a week or two. WIFE.--That won't do, either, if it is to last so many days. HUSBAND.--Then for how long would my darling consent to it without complaining? WIFE.--About one hour is what I should suggest; but, however, if you can do it in a day, you are welcome to try. HUSBAND.--Never, never! This important devotion is not a thing to be so easily performed within the limits of a single day. Please, won't you grant me leave for at least a day and a night? WIFE.--A day and a night? HUSBAND.--Yes. WIFE.--I don't much relish the idea; but if you are so completely bent upon it, take a day and a night for your devotion. HUSBAND.--Really and truly? WIFE.--Really and truly. HUSBAND.--Oh! that is indeed too delightful! But I have something to tell you: know then, that if a woman so much as peep through a chink, to say nothing of her coming into the actual room where the devotee is sitting, the spell of the devotion is instantly broken. So be sure not to come to where I am. WIFE.--All right. I will not come to you. So perform away. HUSBAND.--Well, then, we will meet again after it shall have been happily accomplished. WIFE.--I shall have the pleasure of seeing you when it is over. HUSBAND AND WIFE.--Good-by! good-by! [_She moves away._ HUSBAND.--I say! WIFE.--What is it? HUSBAND.--As I mentioned before, mind you don't come to me. We have the Buddhist's warning words: "When there is a row in the kitchen, to be rapt in abstraction is an impossibility."[173] So whatever you do, do not come to me. WIFE.--Please feel no uneasiness. I shall not think of intruding. HUSBAND.--Well, then, we shall meet again when the devotion is over. WIFE.--When it is done, I shall have the pleasure of seeing you. HUSBAND AND WIFE.--Good-by! Good-by! HUSBAND [_laughing_].--What fools women are, to be sure! To think of the delight of her taking it all for truth, when I tell her that I am going to perform the religious devotion of abstraction for one whole day and night! Taraukuwazhiya, are you there? halloo? SERVANT.--Yes, sir! HUSBAND.--Are you there? SERVANT.--At your service. HUSBAND.--Oh! you have been quick in coming. SERVANT.--You seem, master, to be in good spirits. HUSBAND.--For my good spirits there is a good reason. I have made, as you know, an engagement to go and visit Hana this evening. But as my old woman has got scent of the affair, thus making it difficult for me to go, I have told her that I mean to perform the religious devotion of abstraction for a whole day and night--a very good denial, is it not? for carrying out my plan of going to see Hana! SERVANT.--A very good device indeed, sir. HUSBAND.--But in connection with it, I want to ask you to do me a good turn. Will you? SERVANT.--Pray, what may it be? HUSBAND.--Why, just simply this: it is that I have told my old woman not to intrude on my devotions; but, being the vixen that she is, who knows but what she may not peep and look in? in which case she would make a fine noise if there were no semblance of a religious practice to be seen; and so, though it is giving you a great deal of trouble, I wish you would oblige me by taking my place until my return. SERVANT.--Oh! it would be no trouble; but I shall get such a scolding if found out, that I would rather ask you to excuse me. HUSBAND.--What nonsense you talk! Do oblige me by taking my place; for I will not allow her to scold you. SERVANT.--Oh sir! that is all very well; but pray excuse me for this time. HUSBAND.--No, no! you must please do this for me; for I will not so much as let her point a finger at you. SERVANT.--Please, please let me off! HUSBAND.--Gracious goodness! The fellow heeds what my wife says, and won't heed what I say myself! Do you mean that you have made up your mind to brave me? [_Threatening to beat him._ SERVANT.--Oh! I will obey. HUSBAND.--No, no! you mean to brave me! SERVANT.--Oh no, sir! surely I have no choice but to obey. HUSBAND.--Really and truly? SERVANT.--Yes, really and truly. HUSBAND.--My anger was only a feint. Well, then, take my place, please. SERVANT.--Yes, to be sure; if it is your desire, I will do so. HUSBAND.--That is really too delightful. Just stop quiet while I set things to rights for you to sit in abstraction. SERVANT.--Your commands are laid to heart. HUSBAND.--Sit down here. SERVANT.--Oh! what an unexpected honor! HUSBAND.--Now, then; I fear it will be uncomfortable, but oblige me by putting your head under this "abstraction blanket." SERVANT.--Your commands are laid to heart. HUSBAND.--Well, it is scarcely necessary to say so; but even if my old woman should tell you to take off the abstraction blanket, be sure not to do so until my return. SERVANT.--Of course not. I should not think of taking it off. Pray don't be alarmed. HUSBAND.--I will be back soon. SERVANT.--Please be good enough to return quickly. HUSBAND.--Ah! that is well over! No doubt Hana is waiting impatiently for me. I will make haste and go. WIFE.--I am mistress of this house. I perfectly understood my partner the first time he asked me not to come to him on account of the religious devotion which he was going to perform. But there is something suspicious in his insisting on it a second time with a "Don't come to look at me! don't come to look at me!" So I will just peep through some hidden corner, and see what the thing looks like. [_Peeping._] What's this? Why, it seems much more uncomfortable than I had supposed! [_Coming in and drawing near._] Please, please; you told me not to come to you, and therefore I had intended not to do so; but I felt anxious, and so I have come. Won't you lift off that "abstraction blanket," and take something, if only a cup of tea, to unbend your mind a little? [_The figure under the blanket shakes its head._] You are quite right. The thought of my being so disobedient and coming to you after the care you took to tell me not to intrude may justly rouse your anger; but please forgive my rudeness, and do please take that blanket off and repose yourself, do! [_The figure shakes its head again._] You may say no again and again, but I _will_ have it off. You _must_ take it off. Do you hear? [_She pulls it off, and Taraukuwazhiya stands exposed._] What! you, you rascal? Where has my old man gone? Won't you speak? Won't you speak? SERVANT.--Oh! I know nothing. WIFE.--Oh! how furious I am! Oh! how furious I am! Of course he must have gone to that woman's house. Won't you speak? Won't you speak? I shall tear you in pieces? SERVANT.--In that case, how can I keep anything from you? Master has walked out to see Miss Hana. WIFE.--What! _Miss_ Hana, do you say? Say, _Minx_, say _Minx_. Gracious me, what a rage I am in! Then he really has gone to Hana's house, has he? SERVANT.--Yes, he really has gone there. WIFE.--Oh! when I hear he has gone to Hana's house, I feel all ablaze, and oh! in such a passion! oh! in such a passion! [_She bursts out crying._ SERVANT.--Your tears are but natural. WIFE.--Ah! I had meant not to let you go if you had kept it from me. But as you have told the truth I forgive you. So get up. SERVANT.--I am extremely grateful for your kindness. WIFE.--Now tell me, how came you to be sitting there? SERVANT.--It was master's order that I should take his place; and so, although it was most repugnant to me, there was no alternative but for me to sit down, and I did so. WIFE.--Naturally. Now I want to ask you to do me a good turn. Will you? SERVANT.--Pray, what may it be? WIFE.--Why, just simply this: you will arrange the blanket on top of me just as it was arranged on the top of you; won't you? SERVANT.--Oh! your commands ought of course to be laid to heart; but I shall get such a scolding if the thing becomes known, that I would rather ask you to excuse me. WIFE.--No, no! I will not allow him to scold you; so you must really please arrange me. SERVANT.--Please, please, let me off this time. WIFE.--No, no! you must arrange me, as I will not so much as let him point a finger at you. SERVANT.--Well, then, if it comes to my getting a scolding, I count on you, ma'am, as an intercessor. WIFE.--Of course. I will intercede for you; so do you please arrange me. SERVANT.--In that case, be so good as to sit down here. WIFE.--All right. SERVANT.--I fear it will be uncomfortable, but I must ask you to put your head under this. WIFE.--Please arrange me so that he cannot possibly know the difference between us. SERVANT.--He will never know. It will do very nicely like this. WIFE.--Will it? SERVANT.--Yes. WIFE.--Well, then! do you go and rest. SERVANT.--Your commands are laid to heart. [_He moves away._ WIFE.--Wait a moment, Taraukuwazhiya! SERVANT.--Yes, ma'am. WIFE.--It is scarcely necessary to say so, but be sure not to tell him that it is I. SERVANT.--Of course not, I should not think of telling him. WIFE.--It has come to my ears that you have been secretly wishing for a purse and silk wrapper.[174] I will give you one of each which I have worked myself. SERVANT.--I am extremely grateful for your kindness. WIFE.--Now be off and rest. SERVANT.--Yes, ma'am. _Enter husband, singing as he walks along the road._ Why should the lonely sleeper heed The midnight bell, the bird of dawn? But ah! they're sorrowful indeed When loosen'd was the damask zone. Her image still, with locks that sleep Had tangled, haunts me, and for aye; Like willow-sprays where winds do sweep, All tangled too, my feelings lie. As the world goes, it rarely happens even with the most ardent secret love; but in my case I never see her but what I care for her more and more:-- 'Twas in the spring-time that we first did meet, Nor e'er can I forget my flow'ret sweet. Ah well! ah well! I keep talking like one in a dream, and meantime Taraukuwazhiya is sure to be impatiently awaiting me. I must get home. How will he have been keeping my place for me? I feel a bit uneasy. [_He arrives at his house._] Halloo! halloo! Taraukuwazhiya! I'm back! I'm back! [_He enters the room._] I'm just back. Poor fellow! the time must have seemed long to you. There now! [_Seating himself._] Well, I should like to tell you to take off the "abstraction blanket"; but you would probably feel ashamed at being exposed.[175] Anyhow I will relate to you what Hana said last night if you care to listen. Do you? [_The figure nods acquiescence._] So you would like to? Well, then, I'll tell you all about it: I made all the haste I could, but yet it was nearly dark before I arrived; and I was just going to ask admittance, my thoughts full of how anxiously Hana must be waiting for me in her loneliness, saying, perhaps, with the Chinese poet[176]:-- He promised but he comes not, and I lie on my pillow in the fifth watch of the night:-- The wind shakes the pine trees and the bamboos; can it be my beloved? when there comes borne to me the sound of her voice, humming as she sat alone:-- "The breezes through the pine trees moan, The dying torch burns low; Ah me! 'tis eerie all alone! Say, will he come or no?" So I gave a gentle rap on the back door, on hearing which she cried out: "Who's there? who's there?" Well, a shower was falling at the time. So I answered by singing:-- Who comes to see you Hana dear, Regardless of the soaking rain? And do your words, Who's there, who's there? Mean that you wait for lovers twain? to which Hana replied:-- "What a fine joke! well, who can tell? On such a dark and rainy night Who ventures out must love me well, And I, of course, must be polite, And say: Pray sir, pass this way." And, with these words, she loosened the ring and staple with a cling-a-ring, and pushed open the door with a crick-a-tick; and while the breeze from the bamboo blind poured towards me laden with the scent of flowers, out she comes to me, and, "At your service, sir," says she, "though I am but a poor country maid." So in we went, hand in hand, to the parlor. But yet her first question, "Who's there?" had left me so doubtful as to whether she might not be playing a double game, that I turned my back on her, and said crossly that I supposed she had been expecting a number of lovers, and that the thought quite spoiled my pleasure. But oh! what a darling Hana is! Coming to my side and clasping tight my hand, she whispered, saying: "If I do please you not, then from the first Better have said that I do please you not; But wherefore pledge your troth, and after turn Against me? Alas! alas! "Why be so angry? I am playing no double game." Then she asked why I had not brought you, Taraukuwazhiya, with me; and on my telling her the reason why you had remained at home, "Poor fellow!" said she, "how lonely he must be all by himself! Never was there a handier lad at everything than he, though doubtless it is a case of the mugwort planted among the hemp, which grows straight without need of twisting, and of the sand mixed with the mud, which gets black without need of dyeing,[177] and it is his having been bound to you from a boy that has made him so genteel and clever. Please always be a kind master to him." Yes, those are the things you have said of you when Hana is the speaker. As for my old vixen, she wouldn't let as much fall from her mug in the course of a century, I'll warrant! [_Violent shaking under the blanket._] Then she asked me to pass into the inner room to rest awhile. So in we went to the inner room, hand in hand. And then she brought out wine and food, and pressed me to drink, so that what with drinking one's self, and passing the cup to her, and pressing each other to drink, we kept feasting until quite far into the night, when at her suggestion another room was sought and a little repose taken. But soon day began to break, and I said I would go home. Then Hana exclaimed:-- "Methought that when I met thee, dearest heart! I'd tell thee all that swells within my breast:-- But now already 'tis the hour to part, And oh! how much still lingers unexpress'd! Please stay and rest a little longer!" "But no!" said I, "I must get home. All the temple-bells are a-ringing." "And heartless priests they are," cried she, "that ring them! Horrid wretches to begin their ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, when it is still the middle of the night!" But for all her entreaties, and for all my own regrets, I remembered that "meeting is but parting," and, Tearing me loose, I made to go; farewell! Farewell a thousand times, like ocean sands Untold! and followed by her distant gaze I went; but as I turn'd me round, the moon, A slender rim, sparkling remain'd behind, And oh! what pain it was to me to part! [_He sheds tears._] And so I came home. Oh! isn't it a pity? [_Weeping again._] Ah well! out of my heart's joy has flamed all this long history, and meanwhile you must be very uncomfortable. Take off that "abstraction blanket." Take it off, for I have nothing more to tell you. Gracious goodness! what a stickler you are! Well, then! I must pull it off myself. I _will_ have it off, man! do you hear me? [_He pulls off the blanket, and up jumps his wife._ WIFE.--Oh! how furious I am! Oh! how furious I am! To hoax me and go off to Hana in that manner! HUSBAND.--Oh! not at all, not at all! I never went to Hana. I have been performing my devotions, indeed I have. WIFE.--What! so he means to come and tell me that he has been performing his devotions? and then into the bargain to talk about "things the old vixen would never have let drop"! Oh! I'm all ablaze with rage! Hoaxing me and going off--where? Going off where? [_Pursuing her husband round the stage._ HUSBAND.--Not at all, not at all! I never said anything of the kind. Do, do forgive me! do forgive me! WIFE.--Oh! how furious I am! Oh! how furious I am! Where have you been, sir? where have you been? HUSBAND.--Well, then! why should I conceal it from you? I have been to pray both for your welfare and for my own at the Temple of the Five Hundred Disciples[178] in Tsukushi. WIFE.--Oh! how furious I am! Oh! how furious I am! as if you could have got as far as the Five Hundred Disciples! HUSBAND.--Do, do forgive me! Do forgive me! WIFE.--Oh! how furious I am! Oh! how furious I am! [_The husband runs away._ Where's the unprincipled wretch off to? Is there nobody there? Please catch him! I won't let him escape! I won't let him escape! FOOTNOTES: [Footnote 162: The reader will call to mind the extreme simplicity which distinguishes the method of representing the Japanese lyric dramas. In accordance with this simplicity, all the changes of place mentioned in the text are indicated merely by a slight movement to and fro of the actors upon the stage.] [Footnote 163: It is said that in antiquity an ode commencing with the name of Mount Asaka was the first copybook put into the hands of children. The term is therefore now used as the "Pillow-word" for learning to write.] [Footnote 164: The doctrine of retribution set forth in the above lines is a cardinal point of the Buddhist teaching; and, as the afflicted Christian seeks support in the expectation of future rewards for goodness, so will the pious Buddhist find motives for resignation in the consideration of his present sufferings as the consequence of sins committed in past stages of existence.] [Footnote 165: A little further on, Kauzhiyu says it is a "rule" that a retainer must lay down his life for his lord. Though it would be difficult to find either in the Buddhist or in the Confucian teaching any explicit statement of such a duty, it is nevertheless true that the almost frantic loyalty of the mediæval and modern Japanese was but the natural result of such teaching domiciled amid a feudal society. We may see in this drama the whole distance that had been traversed by the Japanese mind since the time of the "Mañyefushifu" poets, whose means of life and duty were so much nearer to those of the simply joyous and unmoral, though not immoral, children of nature.] [Footnote 166: Literally, "turns his child into a dream."] [Footnote 167: During the Middle Ages it was very usual for afflicted persons to renounce secular life, the Buddhist tonsure being the outward sign of the step thus taken.] [Footnote 168: The Past World, the Present World, and the World to Come. According to the Buddhist teaching, the relations subsisting between parents and children are for one life only; those between husband and wife are for two lives; while those uniting a servant to his lord or a disciple to his master endure for the space of three consecutive lives.] [Footnote 169: This sentence, which so strangely reminds us of John iii., 16, is, like all the prose passages of these dramas, a literal rendering of the Japanese original.] [Footnote 170: In Japan, as in England, it is usual to talk of going "up" to the capital and "down" to the country.] [Footnote 171: A form of mortification current in the Shiñgoñ sect of Buddhists.] [Footnote 172: Bôdhidharma, the first Buddhist Patriarch of China, whither he came from India in A.D. 520. He is said to have remained seated in abstraction gazing at a wall for nine years, till his legs rotted off. His name is, in Japan, generally associated with the ludicrous. Thus certain legless and shapeless dolls are called after him, and snow-figures are denominated Yuki-daruma (Snow Daruma).] [Footnote 173: Needless to say that no such text exists.] [Footnote 174: Used for carrying parcels, and for presenting anything to, and receiving anything from, a superior. The touch of the inferior's hand would be considered rude.] [Footnote 175: The meaning is that, as one of the two must be under the blanket in readiness for a possible visit from the wife, the servant would doubtless feel it to be contrary to their respective positions for him to take his ease outside while his master is sitting cramped up inside--a peculiarly uncomfortable position, moreover, for the teller of a long story.] [Footnote 176: The lines are in reality a bad Japanese imitation of some in a poem by Li Shang-Yin.] [Footnote 177: Proverbial expressions.] [Footnote 178: Properly, the Five Hundred "Arhân," or personal disciples of Sâkya. The island of Tsukushi forms the southwestern extremity of Japan.] 
20738	----	public domain works from the University of Michigan Digital Libraries.) Diccionario Ingles-Español-Tagalog (Con partes de la oracion y pronunciacion figurada) Por Sofronio G. Calderón Presidente de la sociedad literaria "Aklatang Kasilawan"; 2.o Vice-Presidente de la "Samahan ng mga Mánanagalog" (ó Asociación de Tagalistas); Colaborador de la "Aklatang Bayan"; Miembro honorario de la "Aklatang Barusog"; Miembro de la "University Extension Institute"; Miembro de la "Philipphine Academy" etc. Primera Edición. Manila Libreria y Papeleria -:de:- J. Martinez Plaza P. Moraga 34/36, Plaza Calderón 108 y Real 153/155, Intramuros. 1915 Es propiedad de la Imprenta, Librería y Papelería de J. Martínez. Imprenta de J. Martínez, Estraude 7, Binondo. A A, art. [æ] Un, uno, una. Isá. Abaca, n. [abáka] Abacá. Abaká. Aback, adv. [abák] Detras, en facha. Sa likód, sa gawíng likod. Abacus, n. [abákoes] Abaco; tabla aritmética; el tablero que corona el capitel de una columna. Bilangan ng insík; ang pinakaputong na tablá sa itaas ó dulo ng haligi. Abaft, adv. [abáft] A popa, en popa. Sa gawíng likod, sa gawíng hulí. Abandon, v. [abándon] Abandonar, dejar. Magpabayâ, pabayaan; iwan; hwag kumandilì; hwag kumalingâ. Abandonment, n. [abándonment] Abandono. Pagpapabayâ. Abase, v. [abés] Envilecer, humillar. Humamak; papagpakumbabain. Abasement, n. [abésment] Envilecimiento. Pagkaabâ, pagkahamak. Abash, v. [abásh] Avergonzar. Humiyâ. Abate, v. [abét] Aminorar, disminuir. Magpaliit, kumulang, magbawas. Abatement, n. [abétment] Rebaja, diminución, abatimiento. Pagkábabâ, bawas. Abbey, n. [ábi] Abadía, convento de monjes ó monjas. Táhanan ng mga monghe ó mongha. Abbot, n. [ábæt] Abad. Punò ng mga monghe, pangulong monghe. Abbreviate, v. [abríviet] Abreviar, compendiar. Magpaiklî, iklián; magpadalî. Abbreviation, n. [abréviacien] Abreviación. Pag-iiklî, pagpapadalî. Abscess, n. [abcés] Divieso, tumor. Pigsá, bagâ. Abdicate, v. [ábdiket] Abdicar. Ibigay (sa ibá ang kaharian). Abdication, n. [abdikécion] Abdicación. Pagbibigay (sa ibá ng kaharian). Abdomen, n. [abdómen] Abdomen. Pusón, ibabâ ng tiyan. Abdominal, adj. [abdóminal] Abdominal. Nauukol sa pusón. Abduct, v. [abdáct] Sacar por fuerza ó engaño á alguna persona. Dahasín, agawin. Abduction, n. [abdáccion] El acto de sacar por fuerza ó engaño á alguna persona. Pangdadahas, pag-agaw. Abeam, adv. [abím] Á lo ancho. Sa kalwangan. Abed, adv. [abéd] En cama. Nakáhigâ, nasa higaan. Abet, v. [abét] Favorecer, animar. Umayon, magbuyó. Abeyance, n. [abéians] Espectativa. Paghihintay, pag-asa. Abhor, v. [abjór] Aborrecer, detestar. Yumamot, uminip. Abhorrence, n. [abjórens] Aborrecimiento. Yamot, iníp, muhì. Abhorrent, adj. [abjórent] Horroroso. Nakayayamot, nakakikilabot. Abide, v. [abáid] Habitar, morar. Tumahan, tumirá. Ability, n. [abíliti] Habilidad, capacidad. Kaya, abót; kapangyarihan. Abilities, pl. [abílitis] Talento, ingenio; bienes. Katalinuan; kayamanan, pag-aarì. Abject, adj. [ábdchect] Despreciable, bajo, vil. Hamak, alipustâ. Abject, n. [ábdchect] Hombre vil. Taong hamak. Abjure, v. [abdchúr] Abjurar, renunciar. Talikdan ang isinumpâ; magbitiw. Abjurement, v. [abdchúrment] Abjuracion; renuncia. Pagtalikod sa isinumpâ, pagbibitiw. Ablaze, adv. [abléiz] En llamas. Nagliliyab, nagniningas. Able, adv. [ébel] Capaz. May-kaya, may-abot. Ablution, n. [abliúcion] Ablucion. Paghuhugas, abulusyon, paglilinis. Ably, adv. [ébli] Habilmente. May kakayahan. Abnegate, v. [ábneguet] Abnegar, renunciar. Tumalikod sa hinahangad, magbitiw. Abnormal, adj. [abnórmal] Irregular, disforme. Walâ sa ayos, pangit. Abnormality, n. [abnórmiti] Irregularidad, deformidad. Kawalán ng ayos, kapangitan. Aboard, adv. [ébord] A bordo. Nakasakay sa sasakyán. Abode, n. [ebód] Domicilio, habitacion. Táhanan, tírahan. Abolish, v. [abólish] Abolir, anular. Pumaram, pumawì, lumipol, magwalâ ng halagá. Abolition, n. [abolícion] Abolicion. Pagkapawì, pagkalipol, pagkawalâ ng halaga. Abominable, adj. [abóminabl] Abominable, detestable. Nakaririmarim, nakasusuklam. Abominably, adj. [abóminebli] Abominablemente. Karimarimarim, kasuklamsuklam. Abominate, v. [abóminet] Abominar, detestar. Marimarim, masuklam. Abomination, n. [abominécion] Abominacion, corrupcion.. Karimarimarim; kabulukán. Aboriginal, adj. [aborídchinal] Primitivo. Káunaunahan ó ang ukol sa káunaunahan. Aborigines, n. [aborídchinis] Los primeros habitantes de algun pais. Mga unang nanahan sa isang pook ó lupain. Abortion, n. [aborción] Aborto, malparto. Panganganak ng dî ganáp sa panahon, pagkalagas. Abortive, adj. [abórtiv] Abortivo. Lagás, walâ sa panahon. Abound, v. [ebáund] Abundar. Sumaganà, managanà. About, prep. [ebáut] Cerca de, acerca, tocante á; mas ó menos. Malapit sa; hinggil sa, tungkol sa; humigit kumulang. Above, prep. [ebóv] Encima, sobre, superior. Sa ibabaw, tangì, nangingibabaw, higit sa lahat. Above, adv. [ebóv] Arriba, la parte alta. Sa itaas; sa kaitaasan. Abreast, adv. [ebrést] De frente. Katabí, kasiping. Abridge, v. [ebrídch] Abreviar, compendiar. Iklián, liitán. Abridgement, n. [ebrídchment] Compendio, epítome. Kaiklián. Abroad, adv. [ebród] Fuera de casa ó del pais. Sa tanyag; sa labas ng bahay ó sa ibang lupain. Abrogate, v. [ábroguet] Abrogar, anular, revocar. Hwag bigyan ng kabuluhan, alisan ng kabuluhan. Abrogation, n. [abroguésion] Abrogacion, abolicion. Pagpapawalâ ng kabuluhan. Abrupt, a. [abrápt] Quebrado; repentino. Sirâ; biglâ. Abruptness, n. [abráptnes] Precipitacion, decortesía. Kadalian; kabiglaan; pagkawalang pitagan. Abscess, n. [ábses] Absceso. Pigsá, tila bukol. Abscind, v. [absínd] Cortar, tajar. Pumutol, humiwà, tumagâ. Abscission, n. [absícion] Cortadura. Pútol, hiwà. Abscond, v. [abscánd] Esconderse; desfalcar. Magtagò; manirà ng salapî. Absence, n. [ábsens] Ausencia. Ang dî pagharap, pagkawalâ sa harap, ang dî pagdaló. Absent, adj. [ábsent] Ausente. Walâ, dî kaharap, dî dumaló. Absent, v. [ábsent] Ausentarse. Maglayás, maglagalag. Absolute, adj. [ábsoliut] Absoluto, completo. Nakapangyayari; ganap. Absolution, n. [ábsoliúcion] Absolucion, perdon. Kalag, patawad. Absolve, v. [absólv] Absolver. Kumalag, magpatawad. Absorb, v. [absórb] Absorber. Humitit, humigop, sumipsip. Absorbent, adj. [absórbent] Absorbente. Humihigop, humihitit, sumisipsip. Absorption, n. [absórpcion] Absorcion. Higop, hitít, sipsíp. Abstain, v. [abstén] Abstenerse. Magpigil. Abstinence, n. [ábstinens] Abstinencia. Pagpipigil. Abstemious, adj. [abstímias] Sobrio. Mapagpigil. Abstract, adj. [ábstract] Abstracto, separado. Hiwalay. Abstract, n. [ábstract] Extracto, compendio. Kuhulugán, katás, iklî. Abstract, v. [ábstract] Abstraer, extractar. Humugot, maghiwalay. Absurd, adj. [absérd] Absurdo. Tiwalî, balintunà. Absurdity, n. [absérditi] Absurdidad. Katiwalian, kabalintunaan. Abundance, n. [abándans] Abundancia, exuberancia. Kasaganaan. Abundant, adj. [abándant] Abundante. Saganà. Abundantly, adv. [abándant-li] Abundantemente. May kasaganaan. Abuse, n. [abiús] Abuso. Pamamaslang, kapaslangan, pagpapakalabis. Abuse, v. [abiús] Abusar. Mamasláng; magpakalabis. Abusive, adj. [abíusiv] Abusivo. Lapastangan, malabis. Abut, v. [abát] Terminar, confinar. Tumapos, mapaabót. Abyss, n. [abís] Abismo. Lalim, kalaliman; bangin. Accede, v. [accsíd] Acceder. Pumayag. Accelerate, v. [acséleret] Acelerar, apresurarse. Magmadalî, magtumulin. Acceleration, n. [acselerécien] Aceleracion, priesa. Dalî, tulin, liksí. Accent, n. [ácsent] Acento. Tudlít, asento, diin. Accept, v. [acsépt] Aceptar. Tumanggap. Acceptable, adj. [acséptabl] Aceptable, grato. Matatanggap, kaayaaya. Acceptably, adv. [acséptabli] Gustosamente. Kalugodlugod. Acceptance, n. [acséptans] Aceptacion. Pagtanggap. Acceptation, n. [acseptécion] Aceptacion, recibimiento. Pagkatanggap. Access, n. [acsés] Acceso; camino; aumento. Pag-ábot, paglapit; daan; dagdag. Accession, n. [acsécion] Acceso; aumento. Pagpayag; karagdagan. Accident, n. [ácsident] Accidente. Kapahamakán, pagkakataon. Accidental, adj. [acsidéntal] Accidental. Hindî sinasadyâ, nagkataon. Acclaim, v. [aklém] Aclamar, aplaudir. Pumakpak, pumuri. Acclamation, n. [aklamécien] Aclamacion, aplauso. Pagpakpak, pagpuri. Acclivity, n. [aclíviti] Cuesta, rampa. Ahunín, sálungahin. Accommodate, v. [acómodet] Acomodar, reconciliar, conformarse. Magpaginghawa, magbigay-loob, makibagay. Accommodating, n. [acómodeting] Obsequioso, servicial. Mapag-alay, mapaglingkod. Accommodation, n. [acomodécion] Comodidad, ajuste, reconciliacion. Ginghawa, kasiyahán. Accompaniment, n. [akómpaniment] Acompañamiento. Pakikisama, pakikitugmâ. Accompany, v. [acómpani] Acompañar. Sumama, tumugmâ, makisama, makitugmâ. Accomplice, n. [acómplis] Cómplice. Karamay. Accomplish, v. [acómplish] Efectuar, completar. Yumarì, tumapos, magwakas, gumanap. Accomplished, adj. [acómplishd] Perfecto, acabado. Yarì, tapós, ganap. Accomplishment, n. [acómplishment] Complemento. Pagyarì, pagtapos, pagwawakas, pagganap. Accomptant, n. [accaúntant] Contador. Tagabilang. Accord, n. [acórd] Acuerdo, armonía. Kásunduan; pagkaayon, pagkatugmâ. Accord, v. [acórd] Conformidad, acuerdo. Pumayag, makipagkasundô. Accordance, n. [acórdans] Conformidad, acuerdo. Pagkakasundô, pagkakatuos. Accordant, adj. [acórdant] Acorde, conforme. Nagkakaayon, nagkakatugmâ. According, prep. [acórding] Segun, conforme. Ayon, alinsunod. Accordingly, adv. [acórding-li] Saludar á uno yendo hácia él. Naaayon; naaalinsunod. Accost, v. [acóst] En conformidad. Sumalubong, bumatì. Account, n. [acáunt] Cuenta, cálculo. Bilang, tuús; kurò; turing. Account, v. [acáunt] Contar, numerar. Tumuús, bumilang. Accountability, n. [acáuntabiliti] Responsabilidad. Pananagot. Accountable, adj. [acáuntabl] Responsable. Nananagot. Account-book, n. [acáunt-buk] Libro de cuentas. Aklat na tálaan ng utang at pautang. Accountant, adj. [acáuntant] Responsable. Nananagot. Accountant, n. [acáuntant] Contador. Tagabilang. Accoutre, v. [acúter] Aviar, equipar. Humandâ, gumayak. Accoutrements, n. [acúterments] Avío, equipaje. Gayak, daladalahan, báon. Accredit, v. [acrédit] Dar crédito, acreditar. Magbigay ng crédito, magbigay-dangal, magkatiwalà. Accredited, part. pas. [acrédited] Acreditado. Kilala, pinagkakatiwalaan. Accrue, v. [acrú] Acrecentar, resultar. Magdagdag, mangyari, pagkálabasan. Accumulate, v. [akiúmiulet] Acumular. Magbunton, magsalansan. Accumulation, n. [akiúmiulecion] Acumulacion. Bunton, pagkakadagandagán, salansan. Accuracy, n. [ákiurasi] Cuidado, exactitud, esmero. Ingat, ganap, linis. Accurate, adj. [ákiuret] Exacto, acabado. Ganap, lubos, wagas. Accurse, v. [akérs] Maldecir. Sumumpâ, tumungayaw, manungayaw, lumait. Accursed, [akérst] Maldito, maldecido. Sinumpâ, nilait, tinungayaw. Accusation, n. [akiúsecion] Acusacion, cargo. Sumbong, bintang; paratang. Accusable, adj. [akiúsabl] Culpable, reo. Maisusumbong, salarín. Accuse, v. [akiús] Acusar, denunciar. Magsumbong, magsakdal. Accustom, v. [akástom] Acostumbrar. Maugalian, masanay, mamihasa, mahirati. Accustomed, adj. [akástomd] Acostumbrado, usual. Hirati, bihasa, sanáy, datihan. Ace, n. [es] As. Alás. Acerbity, n. [asérbiti] Amargura. Kapaitan, kasaklapan. Ache, n. [e'k] Dolor continuo. Sakít, anták, kirót, hapdî. Ache, v. [e'k] Doler. Sumakít, umantak, kumirot, humapdî. Achieve, v. [achív] Ejecutar, obtener. Yumarì, magtamó. Achievement, n. [achívment] Ejecucion. Pagyarì. Aching, n. [éking] Dolor, desasociego. Pagsakit, pag-antak. Acid, adj. [ácid] Ácido, agrio. Maasim. Acid, n. [ácid] Accido. Áksido. Acidity, n. [asíditi] Acedía, acidez. Asim, kaasiman. Acknowledge, v. [acnóledch] Reconocer, confesar. Kumilala, magpahayag. Acknowledgement, n. [acnóledchment] Reconocimiento. Pagkilala. Acme, n. [ácmi] Cima, colmo; zenit. Taluktok, kataastaasang dako; ang langit na tapát sa ating ulo. Acolite, n. [acólit] Acólito. Sakristan. Acorn, n. [ácorn] Bellota. Bunga, ensina. Acoustic, adj. [acaústic] Acústico. Nanukol sa tingig. Acoustics, n. [acaústics] Acustica. Karunungan sa tingig at pakikinig. Acquaint, v. [acuént] Informar, advertir. Magbigay-alam, magbigay-páuna. Acquaintance, n. [acuéntans] Conocimiento. Pagkakilala. Acquainted, part. [acuénted] Conocido. Kakilala, kilala. Acquiesce, v. [acuést] Someterse, consentir. Makiayon, pumayag. Acquiescence, n. [acuiésens] Acquiesencia, consentimiento. Pakikiayon, pagpayag. Acquiescent, adj. [acuiésent] Condescendiente, conforme. Sang-ayon, payag. Acquire, v. [acuáir] Adquirir. Magkamít; magtaglay, magtamó, magkaroon. Acquirement, n. [acuaírment] Adquisicion. Pagkakamit, pagtataglay, pagkakaroon. Acquit, v. [acuít] Libertar, absolver. Magpalayà, magpakawalâ, magpatawad. Acquital, n. [acuítal] Absolucion. Patawad. Acre, n. [éker] Acre. Sukat ng lupà na may 123 bara at 3 dangkal ang haba at 49 1/2 bara ang lapad. Acrid, adj. [ácrid] Acre, mordaz. Maanghang, naninigid. Acrimony, n. [ácrimoni] Acrimonia. Anghang. Acrobat, n. [acróbat] Acróbata. Sirkero. Across, adv. [Acrós] De traves, de una parte á otra. Patawíd, sa kabilâ. Act, v. [act] Hacer, obrar, representar. Gumawâ, lumabas (sa dulaan) ó mag-artista. Act, n. [act] Hecho, accion, acto. Gawâ, yarì, yugtô. Action, n. [áccien] Accion. Gawâ, kilos, galaw. Actionable, adj. [áccienebl] Punible, criminal. Maparurusahan, salarín. Active, adj. [áctiv] Activo, diligente. Masikap, mabisà. Actor, n. [áctor] Actor. Ang gumagawâ; lumalabas (sa dúlaan). Actress, n. [áctres] Actriz. Babaing lumalabas (sa dulaan). Actual, adj. [ácchual] Actual. Kasalukuyan. Actuate, v. [ácchiuet] Incitar, animar. Mag-udyok, magbuyó; magsagawâ. Acumen, n. [akiúmen] Perspicacia. Katalasan ng isip. Acute, adj. [akiút] Agudo, ingenioso. Matulis, matalinò. Adage, n. [ádedch] Adagio ó refran. Kasabihan ó kawikaan. Adamant, n. [ádamant] Duro (como el diamante). Matigas na matigas. Adam's apple, n. [Adams epol] Nuez de la garganta. Gulunggulungan. Adapt, v. [adápt] Adaptar. Ibagay; isang-ayon; ikanâ, ikapit. Adaptable, adj. [adáptabl] Adaptable. Bagay. Adaptation, n. [adaptécien] Adaptacion. Pagbabagay, pagaakmâ. Add, v. [ad] Aumentar, añadir, juntar. Magdagdag; magpunô; magsugpong, magdugtong. Adder, n. [áder] Serpiente venenosa. Isang urì ng ahas na makamandag. Addict, v. [adíct] Dedicar, destinar. Magtalagá, mag-ukol. Addition, n. [adícien] Adicion. Dagdag; pagbubuô. Additional, adj. [adícional] Adicional. Dagdag. Addle, adj. [ádl] Huero, vacío, podrido. Bugok, bulok; walang lamán. Addle, v. [ádl] Hacer huero, podrir. Bumugok, bumulok. Address, n. [adrés] Direccion; plática. Kinatatahanan, kinaroroonan; salaysay. Address, v. [adrés] Dirigir la palabra. Magsalaysay, manalitâ, magtagumpay. Adduce, v. [adiús] Aducir, alegar. Maglitaw ng katotohanan, magbigay-liwanag. Adept, n. [adépt] Adepto. Marunong, matalinò, bihasa. Adequate, adj. [ádecuet] Adecuado. Sukat, akmâ, bagay. Adhere, v. [adjír] Adherir. Kumiling, kumampí, umayon; dumikit. Adherence, n. [adjírens] Adhesion. Pagkatig, pagkampí. Adherent, adj. [adjírent] Adherente, pegajoso. Makiling; paladikit. Adhesion, n. [adjísion] Adhesion. Pagkatig, pagkampí. Adhesive, adj. [adjísiv] Adhesivo; pegajoso. Malagkit; paladikit. Adieu, adv. [adiú] Despedida. Paalam. Adipose, adj. [adipós] Adiposo. Matabâ, masebo. Adjacent, adj. [addchésent] Adyacente. Katabí, kalapít. Adjective, n. [áddchectiv] Adjetivo. Pangturing, adhetibo. Adjoin, v. [adchóin] Juntar, lindar. Magdugtong, magsugpong, magkabít. Adjourn, v. [adchérn] Diferir, prorogar. Magpaliban. Adjournment, n. [adchérnment] Emplazo. Pagpapaliban. Adjudge, v. [ad-dchádch] Adjudicar, condenar. Humatol. Adjunct, adj. [ad-dchúnt] Adjunto, contiguo. Karugtong, karatig. Adjuration, n. [adchurécion] El acto y modo de conjurar. Panunumpâ. Adjure, v. [adchúr] Juramentar, conjurar. Manumpâ. Adjust, v. [adchást] Ajustar, arreglar. Maglapat, mag-ayos. Adjustment, n. [adchástment] Ajuste, arreglo. Pagkakalapat, pagkakaayos. Adjutant, n. [ádchutant] Ayudante. Katulong, ayudante. Administer, v. [admínister] Administrar. Mangasiwà. Administration, n. [administrécien] Administracion. Pangasiwaan. Administrator, n. [administrétor] Administrador. Tagapangasiwà. Admirable, adj. [ádmirabl] Admirable. Kagilagilalas. Admiral, n. [ádmiral] Almirante. Pangulo ng hukbong-dagat. Admiration, n. [admirécien] Admiracion. Panggigilalás, pagtataká, pamamanghâ. Admire, v. [admáir] Admirar. Manggilalas, magtaká, mamanghâ. Admissible, adj. [admísbl] Aceptable. Matatanggap, tinatanggap. Admission, n. [admícien] Admision, recepción. Tanggap, pagtanggap. Admit, v. [admít] Admitir. Tumanggap. Admittance, n. [admítans] Entrada, admision. Pahintulot, pahintulot na makapasok. Admix, v. [admícs] Mezclar, juntar. Maghalò, maglahok. Admixture, n. [admíkschur] Mistura, mezcla. Halò, lahók. Admonish, v. [admónish] Amonestar. Pagsabihan, pangusapan. Admonition, n. [admonícien] Consejo, admonicion. Payo, aral. Ado, n. [adú] Trabajo, dificultad; pena; bullicio, tumulto. Hirap; guló; alingawngaw. Adopt, v. [adópt] Adoptar, prohijar. Umampon, umaring-anák. Adoption, n. [adópcien] Adopcion. Pag-ampon, pag-aring-anák. Adorable, adj. [adórabl] Adorable. Marapat, sambahín; nakágigiliw. Adoration, n. [adorécien] Adoracion. Pagsambá. Adore, v. [adór] Adorar. Sumambá. Adorn, n. [adórn] Adorno, ornamento. Gayak, palamuti. Adorn, v. [adórn] Adornar. Maggayak. Adrift, adv. [adríft] Flotando, á merced de las olas. Nakalutang; sa talaga ng mga alon; sa bala na. Adroit, adj. [adróit] Diestro, hábil. Maliksí, sanáy. Adulation, n. [adiúlecien] Adulacion, lisonja. Hibò, tuyâ, wikàwikà. Adult, n. [adált] Adulto. Matandâ, magulang. Adulterant, n. [adálterant] Adúltero; adulterador. Mapangalunyâ; mapagbantô. Adulterate, v. [adálteret] Adulterar; viciar, mezclar. Mangálunyâ, makiagulò; sumirà, maghalò. Adultery, n. [adálteri] Adulterio. Pangangalunyâ, pakikiagulò. Advance, n. [adváns] Avance. Pagsulong, pagtulóy. Advance, v. [adváns] Avanzar. Sumulong, magpatuloy. Advancement, n. [advánsment] Adelantamiento, progreso. Pagkasulong, pagbuti. Advantage, n. [advántedch] Ventaja, ganancia. Higít, lamáng, pakinabang. Advent, n. [ádvent] Adviento, venida. Pagdating. Adventure, n. [advénchiur] Aventura, casualidad. Hindî sinasadyâ, pagkakataón. Adventure, v. [advénchiur] Osar, atreverse, arriesgar. Mangahas, magbakasakalì. Adventurer, n. [advénchiurer] Aventurero. Mapagbakasakalì. Adventurous, adj. [advénchiuroes] Animoso, valeroso. Matapang, mapangahas. Adverb, n. [ádverb] Adverbio. Adverbio (pangbago). Adversary, n. [ádverseri] Adversario, antagonista. Kalaban, katalo, kabanggà, katunggalî. Adverse, adj. [advérs] Adverso, contrario. Laban, salungá. Adverse, v. [advérs] Oponer, impedir. Sumalangsang humadlang. Adversity, n. [advérsiti] Adversidad, desgracia. Kahirapan, sakunâ. Advert, v. [advért] Advertir, atender. Magbigay páuna, kumalingà. Advertise, v. [ádvertais] Avisar, anunciar. Magbalità, magpahiwatig. Advertisement, n. [advértisment] Aviso, anuncio. Balità, pasabi, pahiwatig. Advise, n. [adváis] Consejo. Payo, aral. Advise, v. [adváis] Aconsejar. Pumayo, umaral. Adviser, n. [adváiser] Aconsejador. Tagapayo, tagaaral. Advocate, n. [ádvoket] Abogado, intercesor. Tagapagsanggalang, tagapamagitan, pintakasi. Advocate, v. [ádvoket] Abogar, defender, interceder. Magsanggalang, mamagitan. Adz or adze, n. [adz] Azuela. Darás. Aerial, adj. [eírial] Aéreo. Nauukol sa hangin. Afar, adv. [afár] Lejos, distante. May kalayuan, may agwat. Affability, n. [afábiliti] Afabilidad. Lugód. Affable, adj. [áfabl] Afable. Nakalulugod, maamongloob. Affableness, n. [áfablness] Afabilidad. Kaluguran, kaamuangloob. Affair, n. [afér] Asunto ó negocio. Bagay, pakay, sadyâ, layon, usap. Affect, v. [aféct] Conmover, afectar. Pumukaw, makabaklá. Affectation, n. [afectécien] Afectacion. Pukaw, baklá. Affected, adj. [afécted] Afectado, movido, sujeto á algun mal ó enfermedad. Pukáw, tinablán ó tinatablan. Affectionate, adj. [aféccionet] Cariñoso, afectuoso. Mairog, magiliw. Affiance, n. [afáians] Esponsales, confianza. Típanan sa pag-aasawa; pagtitiwalà. Affidavit, n. [afídevit] Declaracion jurada. Kasulatan ó pahayag na ipinanunumpâ. Affiliate, v. [afíliet] Afiliarse. Makianib, makisapì. Affiliated, adj. [afílieted] Afiliado. Kaanib, kasapì. Affiliation, n. [afíliecien] Afiliacion. Pagkaanib, pagkasapì. Affined, adj. [afáind] Emparentado. Bilang, kamag-anak. Affinity, n. [afíniti] Afinidad, parentesco. Pagkahinlog, pagkabilang na kamag-anak. Affirm, v. [afírm] Afirmar. Magpatunay, magpatibay. Affirmable, adj. [afírmabl] Lo que se puede afirmar. Mapatutunayan. Affirmation, n. [afirmécien] Afirmacion. Patotoo, patunay. Affirmative, adj. [afírmativ] Afirmativo. Nagpapatunay. Affix, n. [afícs] Anexar. Isugpong, idugtong. Affix, v. [afícs] Afijo. Sugpong, dugtong. Afflict, v. [aflict] Aflijir. Dumalamhati, magpahirap. Affliction, n. [aflíccien] Afliccion. Dalamhatì, hapis. Affluence, n. [áfliuens] Abundancia, opulencia. Kasaganaan, kayamanan. Affluent, adj. [áfliuent] Abundante, opulento. Saganà, mayaman. Afflux, n. [áflæcs] Confluencia. Pagtatagpô ng dalawang ilog. Afford, v. [afórd] Dar, proveer. Magbigay, magtaan. Affray, n. [afré] Asalto, combate. Lusob, away. Affright, n. [afráit] Terror, espanto, susto. Gitla, gulat. Affright, v. [afráit] Aterrar, espantar, atemorizar. Gumitlá, gumulat, tumakot. Affront, n. [afrónt] Afrenta, insulto. Pamukhâ, pagmura, lait. Affront, v. [afrónt] Encararse, insultar. Magpamukhâ, ipamukhâ, lumait. Afield, adv. [afíld] En el campo. Sa parang, sa lwal. Afire, adv. [afáir] Encendidamente. Nagliliyab, nagniningas. Afloat, adv. [aflót] Flotante sobre el agua. Nakalutang. Afoot, adv. [afút] Á pie. Lakád. Afore, adv. [afór] Ántes, primero. Náuna, dati. Aforesaid, adj. [afórsed] Susodicho. Násabi, nábanggit. Afortime, adv. [afórtaim] En otro tiempo, antiguamente. Noong una, datihan, noong araw. Afraid, part. pas. [efréd] Amedrentado. Takót. Afresh, adv. [efrésh] De nuevo, otra vez. Panibago, mulî, ulî. Aft, adv. [aft] A popa. Sa gawíng likod. After, [áfter] Despues. Pagkatapos. Aftermath, n. [áftermaz] Retoño. Supling. Afternoon, n. [áfternun] Tarde. Hapon. Afterward, adv. [áfteruard] Despues. Pagkatapos. Afterwards, adv. [áfteruards] Despues. Pagkatapos. Again, adv. [eguén] Otra vez, de nuevo. Ulî, mulî. Against, prep. [eguénts] Contra, enfrente. Laban, sa harap. Agape, adv. [aguép] De hito en hito. Pasulyapsulyap. Agate, n. [águet] Ágata. Ágata (batong mahalagá na sarisaring kulay. Age, n. [edch] Edad. Gulang, tandâ. Aged, adj. [édched] Viejo, anciano. Magulang matandâ. Agency, n. [édchensi] Agencia. Pangasiwaan, kátiwalaan. Agent, n. [édchent] Agente. Katiwalà. Agglomerate, v. [aglómeret] Aglomerar. Mapisan, mábunton, magkadagandagan. Aggrandize, v. [ágrandaiz] Engrandecer, exaltar. Magpalakí, lakihán, magbunyî. Aggrandizement, n. [ágrandaizment] Engrandecimiento, elevacion. Kalakhan, kabunyian. Aggravate, v. [ágravet] Agravar. Bumigat, lumalâ, lumubhâ. Aggravation, n. [agravécien] Agravacion. Pagbigat, paglalâ, paglubhâ. Aggregate, n. [ágriguet] Coleccion, agregado. Kabuoan. Aggregate, v. [ágriguet] Agregar, incorporar. Magtipon, tumipon, bumuô. Aggregate, adj. [ágriguet] Agregado. Tinipon, binuó; kasama. Aggregation, n. [agriguécien] Agregacion. Pagbuo, pagtitipon, pagpipisan. Aggress, v. [agrés] Acometer. Dumaluhong. Aggression, n. [agrésion] Agresion, asalto. Daluhong, salakay. Aggressive, adj. [agrésiv] Ofensivo. Nakasasakít; dumadaluhong, lumulusob. Aggressor, n. [agrésor] Agresor. Ang dumadaluhong. Aggrievance, n. [agrívans] Agravio, injuria. Kaapihán, kaadwâan. Aggrieve, v. [agrív] Apesadumbrar. Magpasamâ ng loob. Aghast, adj. [agást] Horrorisado. Sindak. Agile, adj. [ádchil] Agil, ligero. Maliksí, matulin. Agility, n. [adchíliti] Agilidad, lijereza. Kaliksihan, katulinan. Agitate, v. [ádchiteit] Agitar; mover. Umugâ, umalog, lumuglog, yumugyog; magpakilos. Agitation, n. [adchitécien] Agitacion. Pag-ugâ, pag-alog, pagluglog, pagpapakilos. Agitator, n. [adchitétor] Agitador. Tagaudyok, tagayugyog. Ago, adv. [egó] Hace.... ej. "hace mucho". Na; hal. "malaon na." Agog, adv. [agóg] Con deseo. Sa nais, sa nasà. Agoing, adv. [egóing] A punto de, dispuesto á, en accion. Kauntî na, handâ na, hala. Agonize, v. [ágonaiz] Estar agonizando. Maghingalô, maghirap, maglubhâ. Agony, n. [ágoni] Agonía, afliccion extrema. Paghihingalô, paghihirap. Agree, v. [egrí] Concordar, convenir. Umayon, pumayag. Agreeable, adj. [egríebl] Agradable; conveniente. Nakalulugod, maligayà; marapat. Agreeably, adv. [agríebli] Agradablemente. Nakalulugod, kawiliwili, kaayaaya. Agreement, n. [egríment] Convenio, contrato. Kásunduan, káyarian. Agriculture, n. [agricúltiur] Agricultura. Pagsasaka, paglinang, pagbubukid. Agricultural, adj. [agricúltural] Agricultural. Nauukol sa pagsasaka. Aground, adv. [agráund] Varado, encallado. Sadsad, sayad. Ague, n. [éguiu] Fiebre intermitente. Ngiki. Ah!, int. [a] ¡Ah! ¡ay!. Ah! abá! ahá! Aha!, int. [ajá] Ah! ha! ha!. Ah! ahá! Ahead, adv. [ejéd] Delante de otro, avante, por la proa, mas alla. Sulong pa, sa unahán, sa harap. Aid, n. [ed] Ayuda, auxilio. Tulong, abuloy. Aid, v. [ed] Ayudar, auxiliar. Tumulong, umabuloy. Aid-de-camp, n. [éd-i-camp] Ayudante de campo. Ayudante de campo. Ail, v. [el] Afligir, molestar. Dumalamhatì, sumakít; bumagabag. Ail, n. [el] Indisposicion, dolor. Damdam, sakít. Ailment, n. [élment] Dolencia. Sakít, antak, kirot, hapdî. Aim, n. [æm] Punteria. Tudlâ. Aim, v. [æm] Apuntar. Tumudlâ, umapuntá. Aimless, adv. [émles] Sin objeto, á la ventura. Walang tungo, walang sadyâ, walang pakay, anomang pangyarihan. Air, n. [ær] Aire. Hangin, ligoy ng tugtugin. Air, v. [ær] Airear, secar. Ibilad, iyangyang, patuyuin. Airgun, n. [érgan] Escopeta de viento. Escopeta de biento. Airhole, n. [érjol] Respiradero. Híngahan. Airiness, n. [árines] Ventilacion. Aliwalas, gaan ng katawan. Air-pump, n. [ær-pamp] Bomba de aire. Kasangkapang nakapagbibigay hangin. Airy, adj. [éri] Aéreo. Hinggil sa hangin. Aisle, n. [ail] Nave de una iglesia, ala, pasillo. Sulambî, daan sa pagitan ng dalawang taludtod, upuan ó bangkô. Ajar, adv. [adchár] Entreabierto. Nakabukas ng kauntî. Ake, v. [ec] Sentir un dolor agudo. Umantak kumirot. Akimbo, adj. [akímbo] Corvo. Baluktot. Akin, adj. [akín] Consanguíneo. Kadugô, kamag-anak, kawangis. Alabaster, n. [álabaster] Alabastro. Alabastro. Alacrity, n. [alácriti] Alegría, buen humor. Kasayahan, gaan ng loob. Alamod, adv. [alamód] A la moda. Ayon sa ugalí, sunod sa moda. Aland, adv. [alánd] A tierra. Sa lupà. Alarm, n. [alárm] Alarma, sobresalto, tumulto. Pagibík, babalà, gulat, guló. Alarm, v. [alárm] Alarmar, asustar, perturbar. Magpagibík, gumulat, lumigalig. Alarm-bell, n. [alárm-bel] Campana de rebato. Batingaw na pamukaw. Alarm-clock, n. [alárm-klok] Reloj con despertador. Relos na panggising. Alarm-post, n. [alárm-post] Atalaya, puesto de aviso. Bantayan. Alarm-watch, n. [alárm-uatch] Reloj con despertador. Relos na panggising. Alas, interj. [alás] ¡Ay!. Sa abá, ¡ay! Alate, adv. [alét] Posteriormente. Sa kátapustapusan. Alb, n. [alb] Alba. Bukang-liwayway. Albeit, adv. [álbit] Aunque, bien que. Bagaman, kahit, gayon man. Album, n. [álbum] Album. Album. Albumen, n. [abiúmen] Albúmen. Putì ng itlog. Alcohol, n. [álcohol] Alcohol. Alkohol. Alcove, n. [alcóv] Alcoba. Silíd. Alderman, n. [álderman] Regidor. Punong bayan. Ale, n. [el] Cerveza. Serbesa. Alee, adv. [alí] A sotavento. Sa gilid ng sasakyan na walang lamán. Alembic, n. [alémbic] Alambique. Alakán. Alert, adj. [alért] Alerta, vigilante. Maingat, maagap, handâ. Algebra, n. [áldchibra] Álgebra. Álhebra, mataas na karunungan sa pagbilang. Alias, n. [élias] Alias. Palayaw; sa ibang paraan. Alibi, n. [álibai] Coartada. Hindî dumaló sa pinagtipanan. Alien, adj. [élien] Extraño, extranjero. Tagaibang lupà, iba. Alienate, v. [élienet] Enajenar, trasferir. Ilipat sa iba, isalin sa iba. Alienation, n. [elienécien] Enajenamiento. Paglilipat sa iba. Alife, adv. [aláif] Por vida mia. Porbida (sumpâ). Alight, adj. [aláit] Encendido, ardiente. Nagniningas, nagliliyab, may sindí. Alight, v. [aláit] Descender, bajar. Lumusong, umibís, bumabâ. Alike, adj adv. [eláik] Igualmente. Kawangis, katulad, kagaya; gayon din. Aliment, n. [áliment] Alimento. Pagkain. Alimental, adj. [aliméntal] Nutritivo, alimenticio. Nakapagpapalakas na pagkain. Alimentary, adj. [aliméntari] Alimenticio. Masustancia. Alive, adj. [aláiv] Vivo; activo. Buháy; gumagalaw. All, adj. [ol] Todo. Lahat, pawà, pulos, taganas. All, adv. [ol] Del todo, enteramente. Boô, buô, lubos. All, n. [ol] Todo el compuesto de partes integrantes. Kalahatan, kabuoan. Allay, v. [alé] Aliviar, mitigar, apaciguar. Umigi, tumahimik pumayapà, guminghawa. Allayment, n. [alément] Alivio. Ginghawa, igi. Allegation, n. [aleguécien] Alegacion; alegato. Pagpapatunay; tutol. Allege, v. [alédch] Alegar; declarar. Tumutol, mananggalang; magpatunay; magpahayag. Allegiance, n. [alídchians] Lealtad, fidelidad. Pagtatapat. Allegoric, adj. [alegóric] Alegórico. Tinatalinghagà. Allegorical, adj. [alegórical] Alegórico. Tinatalinghagà. Allegorize, v. [álegoraiz] Alegorizar. Talinghagain. Allegory, n. [álegori] Alegoría. Talinghagà. Alleviate, v. [alíviet] Aliviar, alijerar. Guminghawa, gumaan. Alleviation, n. [aliviécien] Alivio, alijeramiento. Ginghawa, gaan. Alley, n. [áli] Paseo de árboles. Lansangang mapunong kahoy. Alliance, n. [aláians] Alianza, union, liga. Kásunduan, káyarian. Allied, adj. [aláid] Aliado, confederado. Kasundô kakampi, kaisa. Alligate, v. [áliguet] Ligar, atar una cosa con otra. Pagtaliin. Alligator, n. [aliguéter] Caiman. Bwaya. Alliteration, n. [aliterécien] Aliteracion. Paggamit ng salaysay na may mga paris na titik sa unahan ng bawa't salitâ. All-night, adv. [ol-nait] Toda la noche. Magdamag. Allot, v. [alót] Asignar. Mag-ukol, magtadhanâ. Allotment, n. [alótment] Asignacion, repartimiento. Pag-uukol, pagtatadhanâ, pagbabahagi. Allow, v. [aláu] Conceder, permitir. Pumayag, magpahintulot. Allowable, adj. [aláuabl] Admisible. Mapapayagan. Allowance, n. [aláuans] Permiso, licencia. Pahintulot, kapahintulutan. Alloy, v. [alói] Ligar, mezclar. Halûan, lahukan. Alloy, n. [alói] Liga, mezcla. Lahók, haló. All Saints day, n. [Ol sents day] Dia de todos los Santos. Todos los santos ó kaarawan ng mga kálulwa. Allspice, n. [olspáis] Especias. Especias (pamintá, sinamuno at ibp. gaya nito). Allude, v. [aliúd] Aludir. Bumanggit; banggitin. Allure, v. [aliúr] Alagar, alucinar. Umalò, humimok. Allurement, n. [aliúrment] Halago, seduccion. Alò, himok; hibò dayà. Alluring, adj. [aliúring] Halagüeño, seductivo. Nakahahalina, kahalihalina. Allusion, n. [aliúsion] Alusion. Pagbanggit ng isang bagay na tinutukoy sa ibang paraan. Ally, n. [alái] Aliado, confederado. Kasundô, kakampí. Ally, v. [alái] Hacer alianza. Gumawâ ng pakikipagkasundô ó pakikipagkayarî. Almanac, n. [álmanac] Almanaque. Almanake, kalendaryo. Almighty, adj. [olmáiti] Omnipotente, todopoderoso. Makapangyarihan sa lahat. Almighty, n. [olmáiti] Dios, Creador. May-kapal, Bathalà, Dyos. Almond, n. [ámond] Almendra. Almendras, pilì. Almond-tree, n. [ámond-trii] Arbol de almendra. Punò ng pilì. Almoner, n. [álmoner] Limosnero. Tagapagbigay ng limós. Almost, adv. [ólmost] Casi, cerca de. Halos, malapitlapit. Alms, n. [ams] Limosna, caridad. Limós, kaawang gawâ. Almsgiver, n. [ámsgiver] Limosnero. Mapagbigay-limós. Almsgiving, n. [ámsgiving] El acto de dar limosna. Paglilimos. Almshouse, n. [ámsjaus] Hospicio para pobres. Bahay-ampunan ng mahihirap. Aloft, prep. [alóft] Arriba, sobre. Sa itaas, sa ibabaw. Alone, adj. [elón] Solo, solitario. Íisa, nag-íisa. Alone, adv. [elón] Solamente. Lamang, tangì. Along, adv. [elóng] A lo largo. Sa gawî, sa hinabahabà. Alongside, adv. [elongsáid] Al lado. Sa gawing tabí. Aloof, adv. [elúf] Lejos, de lejos. Buhat sa malayò. Aloud, adv. [eláud] Con voz fuerte, recio. Sigaw, tinig na malakás. Alow, adv. [aló] Abajo. Sa ibabâ. Alphabet, n. [álfabet] Alfabeto, abecedario. Abákadâ. Alphabetic, adj. [alfabétic] Alfabético. Ayos sa titik. Alphabetical, adj. [alfabétical] Alfabético. Ayos sa titik. Already, adv. [olrédi] Ya, todo listo. Na, handâ na. Also, adv. [ólso] Tambien. Naman, rin, man, rin naman, din, din naman. Altar, n. [áltar] Altar. Altá, dambanà. Alter, v. [ólter] Alterar, mudar. Bumago, umiba, baguhin, ibahin. Alterable, adj. [ólterabl] Alterable, mudable. Nababago, naiibá. Alterant, adj. [ólterant] Alterante. Nakababago, nakaiiba. Alteration, n. [olterécien] Alteracion. Pagbabago, pagiibá. Alternate, adj. [altérnet] Alternativo, reciproco. Halinhinan, halíhalilí. Alternate, v. [altérnet] Alternar, turnar. Humalili. Alternation, n. [alternécien] Alternacion, vez, turno. Paghalili. Although, conj. [oldzó] Aunque. Bagaman. Altitude, n. [áltitiud] Altitúd, altura. Taas, kataasan, tayog. Altogether, adv. [oltoguédzer] Enteramente, del todo. Lahatlahat, parapara, pawà, taganás, pulos. Alum, n. [álum] Alumbre. Tawas. Alway, adv. [ówl] Siempre. Lagì, palagì, parati. Always, adv. [ólwes] Siempre. Lagì, palagì, parati. A. M. (ante meridiem), Antes del medio dia. Bago dumating ang á las dose ng araw. Amability, n. [amabíliti] Amabilidad, agrado. Kagandahang-loob. Amain, adv. [amén] Con vehemencia. May kabiglaanan. Amalgam, n. [amálgam] Amalgama, mezcla de diferentes metales. Pagkakahalò ng iba't ibang metal. Amalgamate, v. [amálgamet] Amalgamar. Maghalòhalò ng iba't ibang metal. Amalgamation, n. [amalgamécien] Amalgamacion. Paghahalohalò ng iba't ibang metal. Amanuensis, n. [amaniuénsis] Amanuense, el que copia ó el que escribe lo que otro le dicta. Tagasalin ó tagasulat ng idinidiktá ng iba. Amass, v. [amás] Acumular, amontonar. Magbunton, magsalansan. Amassment, n. [amásment] Cúmulo, monton. Bunton, salansan. Amateur, n. [ámatiur] Aficionado. Ang dî pa sanay na may hilig sa anomang kaalaman, kulukutî ó larô. Amaze, n. [améz] Espanto, asombro. Sindak, gitla, gulat. Amaze, v. [améz] Espantar, aterrar. Sumindak, manggulat manggitlá. Amazement, n. [amésment] Espanto, pasmo. Pagkasindak, pagkagulat, pagkagitla. Amazon, n. [ámason] Amazona. Amasona, (babaing malakas at may ugaling lalaki). Amazonian, adj. [amazónian] Guerrera, lo perteneciente á las amazonas. Babaing mangdidigmâ. Ambassador, n. [ambásador] Embajador. Sugò, embahador, sugong kinatawan. Ambassadress, n. [ambásadres] Embajadora, esposa del embajador. Sugong babai, asawa ng sugong lalaki. Amber, n. [ámber] Ambar. Ambar. Ambient, adj. [ámbient] Ambiente. Panginorin. Ambiguity, n. [ambiguiúiti] Ambigüedad, confusion. Alinlangan, pagtataglay ng álanganing kahulugan. Ambiguous, adj. [ambíguius] Ambigüo, confuso. Álanganin, magkabikabilang kahulugan. Ambit, n. [ámbit] Ámbito. Paligid, palibot. Ambition, n. [ambícien] Ambicion. Pita, dî kawasang hangad. Ambitious, adj. [ambícias] Ambicioso. Mapagpita, mapaghangad. Amble, v. [ámbl] Amblar. Magpalakad ng kabayo na sâbay ang dalawa't dalawang paa. Amble, n. [ámbl] Paso de andadura del caballo. Lakad ng kabayo na sabay ang dalawa't dalawang paa. Ambulance, n. [ámbulans] Ambulancia. Ambulansiya, arag-arag, pangkuha ng may-sakit. Ambuscade, v. [ámbusked] Estar de emboscada. Habatín, harangin. Ambuscade, n. [ámbusked] Emboscada. Habát, harang. Ambush, v. [ámbush] Embuscar. Humabát, umabat. Ambush, n. [ámbush] Emboscada. Habát, abat. Ameliorate, v. [amílioret] Mejorar. Magpagaling, magpabuti. Amelioration, n. [amiliorécion] Mejoramiento. Paggaling, pagbuti. Amen, adv. [émen] Amen, así sea. Amén, siya nawâ. Amenable, adj. [amínabl] Responsable. Nananagot, nananagutan. Amend, v. [aménd] Enmendar. Umibá, bumago, magsusog. Amendable, adj. [améndabl] Reparable. Naaayos, maaayos. Amendment, n. [améndment] Enmienda, reforma. Pagkabago. Amends, n. [aménds] Recompensa, compensacion. Kagantigan, kabayaran. Amenity, n. [améniti] Amenidad. Kagandaban-loob, gandá, kaligayahan. American, adj. y n. [américan] Americano. Amerikano, taga Amérika. Americanism, n. [américanism] Americanismo. Pagkaamerikano. Americanize, v. [americánaiz] Americanizar. Amerikanuhin. Amethyst, n. [ámezist] Amatista. Amatista (isang mahalagang bató). Amiability, n. [amiabíliti] Amabilidad. Kaibig-ibig na asal, kagandahang-loob. Amiable, adj. [ámiabl] Amable. Magiliw, magandangloob. Amicable, adj. [ámicabl] Amigable, amistoso. Mapagkaibigan. Amicability, n. [amicabíliti] Afecto, amistad. Pakikipagkaibigan. Amid, prep. [amíd] Entre, en medio de. Sa pagitan ng, sa gitnâ ng. Amidst, prep. [amídst] Entre, en medio de. Sa pagitan ng, sa gitna ng. Amiss, adj. [amís] Culpable, criminal. Salarín, malî. Amiss, adv. [amís] Culpablemente, erradamente. May pagkakasala, may pagkakamalî. Amiss, n. [amís] Culpa, falta. Sala, kamalian. Amity, n. [ámiti] Amistad. Pagkakaibigan. Ammoniac, n. [amóniac] Amoniaco. Amoniako. Ammunition, n. [amiúnicien] Municion. Munisyones, gamit ng nakikipagdigmà gaya ng punlô, pulburá. Amnesty, n. [ámnisti] Amnistia. Kapatawaran, lubós na paglimot. Among, prep. y adv. [emáng] Entre. Sa gitnâ ng. Amongst, prep. y adv. [emángst] Entre. Sa gitnâ ng. Amorous, adj. [ámoroes] Enamoroso, apasionado. Masintahin, mairugin. Amount, v. [emáunt] Importar, ascender. Magkahalaga; umabot, sumapit. Amount, n. [emáunt] Importe. Halagá, kabuoan, kalahatan. Amper, n. [ámper] Tumor, carbunclo. Bukol. Amphibious, adj. [ámfibias] Anfibio. Hayop na nabubuhay sa tubig at sa kati. Amphitheatre, n. [amfizéater] Anfiteatro. Anfiteatro. Ample, adj. [ámpel] Amplio, extendido. Malawig, malawak. Amplify, v. [ámplifay] Ampliar, extender. Palawigin, lakhán. Ampliation, n. [ampliécien] Ampliacion. Kalakhan, kalawigan. Amplitude, n. [ámplitud] Amplitud, extension, abundancia. Lawig, abót, kasaganaan. Amply, adv. [ámpli] Amplimente. May kalawigan. Amputate, v. [ámpiutet] Amputar. Maghiwalay ng anomang bahagi ó sangkap ng katawan. Amputation, n. [ampiutécien] Amputacion. Paghihiwalay ng anomang bahagi ó sangkap ng katawan. Amuck, adv. [amák] Furiosamente. May pagkabalasik. Amulet, n. [ámiulet] Amuleto. Anting-anting. Amuse, v. [amiús] Entretener, divertir. Mag-aliw, maglibang. Amusement, n. [amiúsment] Diversion, pasatiempo. Áliwan, líbangan. Amusing, adj. [amiúsing] Divertido. Nakaaaliw, nakalilibang. An, art. [en] Un, uno, una. Isa. Anachoret, n. [anácoret] Anacoreta. Anakoreta (ang namumuhay ng bukod at tumatalaga sa pagpapakahirap. Anaconda, n. [anáconda] Boa. Sawá. Analogous, adj. [análogas] Análogo. Kahawig, kahuwad. Analogy, n. [análodchi] Analogía. Pagkakahawig, pagkakahuwad. Analysis, n. [análisis] Analisis. Paglilitis, pagsurì. Analyse, v. [ánalaiz] Analizar. Lumitis, sumurì. Analytical, adj. [analítical] Analítico. Ang ukol sa pagsiyasat ng isang gawâ ó talumpatì. Anarch, n. [ánarc] Anarquista. Ang sumasalangsang at taksil sa lahat ng pámahalaan. Anarchist, n. [ánarkist] Anarquista. Anarkista, ang sumasalangsang at taksil sa lahat ng pámahalaan. Anarchy, n. [ánarki] Anarquía. Ang pagsalangsang at kataksilan sa lahat ng pámahalaan. Anathema, n. [anázema] Anatema, excomunion. Sumpâ. Anathematize, v. [anázamataiz] Anatematizar, excomulgar. Sumumpâ. Anatomical, adj. [anatómical] Anatómico. Ang nauukol sa karunungang paglilitis ng mga kapinsalaan ng mga sangkap ng katawan. Anatomy, n. [anátomi] Anatomía. Karunungan sa paglilitis ng mga kapinsalaan ng mga sangkap ng katawan. Ancestor, n. [ánsestær] Predecesores, abuelos. Kánunuan, pinagbuhatan, pinanggalingan. Ancestral, adj. [ánsestral] Hereditario. Lahì, nauukol sa kánunuan. Ancestry, n. [ánsestri] Linaje de antepasados. Pagkakasunodsunod ng mga nuno't magulang sa angkan ó lahì. Anchor, n. [ánkær] Ancora. Sinipete, sawo. Anchor, v. [ánkær] Ancorar, anclar, hechar las anclas. Mahulog ng sinipete. Anchorage, n. [ánkeredch] Anclaje, el sitio ó lugar para anclar. Dakong pinaghuhulugan ng sinipete ng mga sasakyan. Anchored, adj. [ánkerd] Anclado. Nakasinipete. Anchovy, n. [ancóvi] Anchova ó anchoa. Halubaybay. Ancient, adj. [éncient] Antiguo. Matandâ, lumà, dati, una, laon. Ancient, n. [éncient] Antiguo. Unang tao. And, conj. [end] Y, é. At, 't. Anecdote, n. [ánecdot] Anécdota. Salaysay na may taglay na aral ó pangaral. Anew, adv. [aniú] De nuevo. Panibago, bago, mulî, ulî, ulit. Angel, n. [éndchel] Angel. Anghél. Angelic, adj. [endchélic] Angelical. Parang anghél, mukhang anghél, nauukol sa anghél. Angelical, adj. [andchélical] Angelical. Parang anghél, mukhang anghél, nauukol sa anghél. Angel-like, adj. [endchel-laik] Angelical. Mukhang anghél parang anghél. Anger, n. [ánguer] Ira, cólera. Galit, init. Anger, v. [ánguer] Iritar, enojar. Magalit, mag-init. Angle, n. [ángl] Ángulo, esquina; caña de pescar. Sulok, likô, kantó; bingwít. Angle, v. [ángl] Pescar con caña. Mamingwít, bumingwít. Angler, n. [ángler] Pescador de caña. Tagapamingwít, tagabingwit, mámimingwit, ang namimingwit. Anglican, adj. [ánglican] Anglicano. Anglicano (ang ukol ó nasasanib sa kapisanan ng pananampalatayang ito. Anglicize, v. [anglizaiz] Traducir en inglés. Isalin sa wikang inglés. Angrily, adv. [ángrili] Coléricamente. May pagkagalit, may pagiinit. Angry, adj. [ángri] Colérico, enfadado. Galít, inít. Anguish, n. [ángüish] Pena, angustia. Kahirapan, hirap, hapis, dálita. Angular, adj. [anguiular] Angular. Ang ukol sa panulok. Angularity, n. [anguiuláriti] Forma angular. Anyong panulok. Anights, n. [ænáits] De noche, todas las noches. Gabigabí. Anil, n. [ánil] Añil. Isang halaman na ang dahon at usbóng ay ginagawang tinang bughaw. Animal, n. [ánimal] Animal. Hayop. Animate, adj. [ánimet] Viviente, animado. Buháy, may kálulwa, maliksí. Animate, v. [ánimet] Animar, infundir alma. Bumuhay, bubayin, pagsauliing-loob, pukawin ang loob, paliksihín. Animated, adj [animéted] Vivo, animado. Buháy, maliksí, ganyák. Animation, n. [animécien] Animacion, viveza. Pagkaganyak; kaliksihan. Animosity, n. [animósiti] Animosidad, mala voluntad, rencor. Pakikipag-alit, pagmamasamang-loob, pagtatanim. Anise, n. [ánis] Anis. Anís. Aniseed, n. [ánisid] Simiente de anis. Buto ng anis. Ankle, n. [ánkl] Tobillo. Bukong-bukong. Annals, n. [ánals] Anales. Mga kasaysayang nangyayari sa taón-taón. Anneal, v. [anníl] Templar el cristal ó vidrio. Tumimplá ng kristal ó salamin. Annex, n. [anéx] Aditamento, anexo. Karugtong, kakabít, kaugpong. Annex, v. [anéx] Anexar, juntar, reunir. Idugtong, ikabit, isugpong. Annexation, n. [annecsécien] Annexion, adicion. Dugtong, sugpong. Annihilate, adj. [anaíjilet] Aniquilado. Lipól, wasak. Annihilate, v. [anaíjilet] Aniquilar. Lumipol, magwasak. Annihilation, n. [anaíjilecion] Aniquilacion. Pagkalipol, pagkawasak. Anniversarily, adv. [anivérsarili] Anualmente. Taón-taón. Anniversary, n. [anivérsari] Aniversario, dia que se celebra cada año; la fiesta ó ceremonia que se celebra en cierto dia señalado de cada año. Anibersaryo, kaarawang ipinagdiriwan sa bawa't sangtaón. Announce, v. [anáuns] Anunciar, publicar. Magbalità, maghayag, maglathalà. Announcement, n. [anáunsment] Anuncio, aviso, advertencia. Balità, pahayag, lathalà, pahiwatig. Announcer, n. [anáuncer] Anunciador, publicador. Tagapagbalità, tagalathalà tagapagpahayag. Annoy, v. [annóy] Molestar, incomodar. Yumamot, makainip, makagalit, lumigalig, bumagabag. Annoyance, n. [anóyans] Molestia. Yamot, bagabag, ligalig. Annual, adj. [ánniual] Anual. Táunan, nagtatagal ng sangtaón. Annual, n. [ánniual] Anual. Anomang aklat, ulat ó páhayagan na pinalalabas ng minsan sa isang taón. Annually, adv. [ánniuali] Anualmente. Taón-taón. Annuity, n. [annúiti] Anualidad, renta vitalicia. Salaping kinikita ó tinatanggap sa taón-taón. Annul, v. [annúl] Anular, invalidar. Magpawalâ ng kabuluhan magpawalang bisà. Annular, adj. [ánniular] Anular. Tila singsing, anyongsingsing. Annunciate, v. [ánunciet] Anunciar. Magbalità, magpahiwatig. Annunciation, n. [anunsiécien] Anunciacion, proclamacion, promulgacion. Pagbabalita, pagpapahiwatig, pagtatanyag. Annus, n. [ánnus] Sieso. Tumbong. Anodyne, adj. [ánodain] Anodino, lo que tiene virtud de suavizar y mitigar los dolores. Anodino, gamot na nakapagbabawas ó nakawawalà ng anták ó kirót. Anoint, v. [anóint] Untar, ungir. Pahiran ng langis. Anomalism, n. [anómelism] Anomalía, irregularidad. Ang di pagsunod sa palatuntunan, kawalan ng ayos. Anomalous, adj. [anómelas] Anómalo, irregular. Dî pagsunod sa palatuntunan, walâ sa ayos. Anomaly, n. [anómeli] Anomalía, irregularidad. Paglihis sa palatuntunan. Anon, adv. [anón] Presto, al instante; luego. Agad, pagdaka, karakaraka; sakâ; mámiyâ. Anonymous, adj. [anónimos] Anónimo. Walang lagdâ, walang pangalan; dî kilala. Another, adj. [enódzer] Otro, diferente, distinto. Iba, isa pa, kaibá. Answer, v. [ánser] Responder; ser responsable; corresponder. Sumagot; tumugon, managot; gumanti ng loob. Answer, n. [ánser] Respuesta. Sagot. Answerable, adj. [ansérabl] Aquello á que se puede responder, responsable. Yaong masasagot; nanánagot. Ant, n. [ant] Hormiga. Langgam. Antagonism, n. [antágonizm] Antagonismo, rivalidad. Pakikipag-agawan, pakikipagtalo, pakikipaglaban. Antagonist, n. [antágonist] Antagonista. Kaagawan, katalo, kalaban. Antagonize, v. [antágonaiz] Competir con otro. Makipag-agawan, makipaglaban, mákipagtalo. Antartic, n. [antártic] Antártico. Antártiko; dulong timugan. Antecede, v. [ánticid] Anteceder, preceder. Ipagpauna. Antecedence, n. [antísidens] Precedencia. Pagkakauna. Antecedent, adj. [antísident] Antecedente, precedente. Náuna, una. Antecessor, n. [antísesor] Antecesor, el que precede á otro. Ang hinalinhan. Antechamber, n. [ántichamber] Antecámara. Kansel, bayubo, bastidor na panabing sa kababayan. Antedate, v. [ántidet] Antedatar. Ipágpauna sa pecha ó kaarawan. Antedate, n. [ántidet] Anticipacion. Maagang pagkalagay ng pecha; páuna. Antediluvian, adj. y n. [antidiliúvian] Antidiluviano. Bago nagkagunaw, bago nagdilubyo; ang nabuhay bago nagkagunáw. Antelope, n. [ántilop] Antelope. Isang hayop na alanganin sa usa't kambing. Antemeridian, adj. [antímiridian] Antes del mediodia. Sa umaga, bago dumating ang á las dose ng araw. Antepaschal, adj. [antipáscal] Antepascual. Náuna sa kurismá. Antepenult, n. [antípinelt] Antepenúltimo. Ang bilang na sumusunod sa káhulihulihan. Anterior, adj. [antírior] Anterior, precedente. Sinusundan, náuna. Anteriority, n. [antirióriti] Anterioridad, procedencia. Pagkauna, láon. Anthem, n. [ánzem] Antífona. Awit sa simbahan. Anthemis, n. [ánzimis] Manzanilla. Mansanilya. Anthill, n. [ánt-jil] Hormiguero. Bahay-langgam. Anthology, n. [anzólodgi] Antología, silva, floresta.. Ang karunungan sa bulaklak. Anthony's fire, n. [ánzoniz-fáir] Fuego de San Anton. Pwego de San Anton. Anthracite, n. [ánzrasait] Carbon mineral, carbon duro. Matigas na uling. Anthropoid, n. [ánzropoid] Lo que asemeja en forma al ser humano. Mukhang tao, hawig sa tao; Aranggutang ó malaking unggoy. Anthropology, n. [anzropólodchi] Antropología. Ang karunungan tungkol sa pagkakabalangkas ng katawan ng tao. Anthropophagi, n. [anzropófedchay] Antropófagos. Mga taong nagsisikain ng laman ng tao. Antic, adj. [ántic] Extraño, raro, grotesco. Katwâ, kaibá, magaspang, pangit; púsong. Antichrist, n. [ántikraist] Anticristo. Antíkristo, laban kay kristo. Antichristian, n. [antikrístian] Anticristiano. Ang laban sa nagsisipanalíg kay kristo. Anticipate, v. [antísipet] Anticipar. Umagap; ipagpauna; umuna. Anticipation, n. [antisipécien] Anticipacion. Agap, páuna. Antidote, n. [ántidot] Antídoto. Lunas, gamot na laban sa lason. Antipathy, n. [antípazi] Antipatía. Bigat ng loob, bigat ng dugô. Antipathetic, adj. [antipazétic] Antipático. Mabigat ang dugô. Antipodes, n. [antípodis] Antípodas. Ang nagsisitahan sa tapat na ligid nitong tinatahanan nating sangdaígdig. Antiquarian, adj. [anticuérian] Anticuario. Ang ukol sa unang panahon. Antiquated, adj. [antícueted] Anticuado, obsoleto. Lipas, lumá, dati. Antique, adj. [antíc] Antigüo. Dati, lumà, matandâ, malaon. Antiquity, n. [antícuiti] Antigüedad. Katandaan, kalaunan. Antiseptic, adj. [antiséptic] Antiséptico, antipútrido. Bagay na dî napapanis, bagay na dî nasisirà. Antiseptic, n. [antiséptic] Antiséptico. Gamot na panglaban sa kabulukan. Antithesis, n. [antízesis] Antítesis, oposicion, contraste. Pagkakalaban. Antler, n. [ántler] Cercetas, los mogotes del ciervo. Sungay ng usá. Antre, n. [ánter] Antro, caverna. Yungib, lunggâ. Anvil, n. [ánvil] Yunque. Palihán, kasangkapang ginagamit ng mámamanday. Anxiety, n. [anzaíeti] Ansia, afan, desasociego, inquietud. Pita, laki ng hangad, kabalisahan. Anxious, adj. [ánzios] Ansioso, impaciente. Nagpipita, malaking hangad, balisá. Any, adj. [éni] Cualquier, cualquiera, algun, alguno, alguna. Alin man, anoman, kahi't alin, kahi't sino. Anybody, n. [eníbodi] Quienquiera. Sinoman. Apace, adv. [apés] Apriesa, con presteza. Pagdaka, karakaraka, may katulinan. Apart, adv. [apárt] Aparte, á un lado. Bukod, hiwalay. Apartment, n. [apártment] Cuarto. Silid. Apathetic, adj. [apazétic] Apático, indolente, indiferente. Hindi maramdamin, walang damdam, pabayâ. Apathy, n. [ápazi] Apatía, insensibilidad á toda pasion. Kawalán ng damdam, kapabayaan. Ape, n. [ep] Mono. Unggoy, matsíng. Ape, v. [ep] Hacer mueca, imitar. Gumaya, manggagad. Aperture, n. [apértiur] Abertura. Butas, siwang, pwang. Apex, n. [épecs] Ápice, cima. Dulo, taluktok. Aphorism, n. [áforizm] Aforismo, sentencia breve. Pananalitang maiklî na may taglay na aral. Apiary, n. [épieri] Colmena. Kabahayan ng mga pukyutan, dakong álagaan sa mga pukyutan. Apiece, adv. [epís] Por barba, por cabeza, por pieza. Balang isa, bawa't isa ang isa. Apish, adj. [epísh] Gestero, bufón. Mapagpusong. Apocalypse, n. [apócalips] Apocalipsis, revelacion. Apokalipsis, pahayag. Apocrypha, n. [apócrifa] Libros apócrifos. Mga aklat na pinagtatalunan kung nauukol sa mga banal na kasulatan. Apologetical, adj. [apolodchétical] Apologético. Nauukol sa pagsasanggalang ó kaya'y sa pagdadahilan. Apologist, n. [apólodchist] Apologista. Tagapagsanggalang ó tagapagbigay dahilan. Apologize, v. [apólodchais] Apologizar, defender, excusar. Magsanggalang, magtanggol, mag-adya. Apology, n. [apólodchi] Apología, defensa, excusa. Pagsasanggalang, pagtatanggol, pag-aadya, pagbibigay dahilan. Apoplexy, n. [ápoplecsi] Apoplejía. Himatay, isang sakít na nakawawalâ ng diwà. Apostasy, n. [apóstasi] Apostasía. Pagtalikod sa dating pananampalataya. Apostate, n. [apóstæt] Apóstata. Ang tumatalikod sa dating pananampalataya. Apostatize, v. [apóstataiz] Apostatar. Tumalikod sa dating pananampalataya. Apostle, n. [apósl] Apostol. Apostol, apóstoles. Bawa't isa sa labing dalawang hirang na alagad ni Hesu-Kristo. Apostleship, n. [apóslship] Apostolado. Pagkaapostol. Apostolic, adj. [apostólic] Apostólico. Nauukol sa apostol. Apostrophe, n. [apóstrofi] Apóstrofe. Apóstrope, kudlit sa itaas na inihahalili sa inalis na titik sa isang salitâ. Apostrophize, v. [apóstrofaiz] Apostrofar. Maglagay ng apóstrope ó ng kudlít. Apothecary, n. [apózecari] Boticario. Butikaryo, ang naghahandâ at nagbibili ng gamot. Apothecary's shop, n. [apózecaris siop] Botica. Butika, tindahan ng gamot. Apotheosis, n. [apozíesis] Apoteosis, deificacion. Pag aring Dyos sa kaninoman. Appall, v. [apól] Espantar, aterrar. Sumindák; magpangilabot. Appalling, n. [apóling] Espanto, aterramiento. Sindak, pangingilabot. Apparatus, n. [aparétus] Aparato, aparejo. Kasangkapan. Apparel, n. [apárel] Vestido. Damit, suot, kasuutan. Apparel, v. [apárel] Vestir. Magbihis, magdamit. Apparent, adj. [apárent] Claro, aparente. Maliwanag, malinaw; naaaninag. Apparently, adv. [apárentli] Claramente. May kalinawan, may kalìwanagan. Apparition, n. [aparícien] Aparicion, vision, fantasma. Paglitaw, pagsipot; malikmata, pángitain; multó. Appeal, n. [apíl] Apelacion. Tutol, luhog. Appeal, v. [apíl] Apelar, recurir á un tribunal superior. Tumutol, magsakdal ó lumuhog sa lalong mataas na húkuman. Appear, v. [apír] Aparecer ó aparecerse. Lumitaw, sumipot, humarap; sumikat, sumilang. Appearance, n. [apírans] Apariencia. Anyô, hichura, tabas. Appease, v. [apíz] Aplacar, apaciguar, calmar. Magpatahimik, pumayapà. Appellant, n. [apélant] Apelante. Ang tumututol. Appellation, n. [apelécien] Apelacion. Tutol. Appellee, n. [apelí] El acusado. Ang nasasakdal ó isinasakdal. Append, v. [apénd] Colgar; añadir; anejar. Magbitin; magdagdag; magdugtong; sumapì. Appendage, n. [apéndedch] Cosa accesoria, pertenencia. Bagay na kaugnay, karugtong. Appendix, n. [apéndics] Apendíce, adicion ó suplimento que se hace á alguna obra.. Karugtong, dagdag. Appertain, v. [apertén] Pertenecer. Máukol. Appetizing, adj. [apetáising] Apetitivo. Ang ukol sa pagnanasà ng isang bagay. Appetite, n. [ápetait] Apetito. Gana sa pagkain. Appetize, v. [ápetaiz] Excitar el apetito. Magkagana ng pagkain. Applaud, v. [aplód] Aplaudir, alabar, palmear, aclamar. Pumuri, magpaunlak, pumakpak. Applause, n. [apláus] Aplauso. Pagpupuri, paunlak, pagpakan. Apple, n. [ápl] Manzana. Mansanas. Appliance, n. [aplíans] Aplicacion. Pagsasangkap, paggamit. Applicable, adj. [aplíkebl] Aplicable, apto. Bagay, akmâ. Applicant, n. [áplikant] Aspirante. May kahilingan; ang humihingi ng mápapasukang gáwain. Application, n. [aplikécien] Aplicacion. Ang kasulatáng inihaharap sa paghingî ng mápapasukan. Apply, v. [aplái] Aplicar; dirigirse á, recurrir á. Gamitin, ikapit, iakmâ; lumuhog, dumulog. Appoint, v. [apóint] Señalar, determinar, nombrar. Magtakdâ, maglagay, maghalal. Appointee, n. [apointí] Funcionario. Ang nakalagay ó nakahalal sa katungkulan, kawaní. Appointment, n. [apóintment] Nombramiento; estipulacion, decreto. Pagkahalal sa katungkulan, pagkakayarî; pasiya. Apportion, v. [apórcien] Proporcionar. Magbahagi, mamahagi, humatì, maghatì. Apportionment, n. [apórcienment] Division en dos partes ó porciones. Pagbabahagi, pamamahagi, paghahatì. Apposite, adj. [áposit] Adoptado, proporcionado. Bagay, akmâ, lapat. Apposition, n. [aposícien] Aposicion; añidadura. Pagbabagay; dagdag. Appraise, v. [aprés] Apreciar, valuar; estimar, ponderar. Humalaga; magmahal. Appraisement, n. [aprésment] Aprecio, estimacion. Pagbibigay halaga, pagmamahal. Appreciable, adj. [apréciabl] Apreciable. Dapat pahalagahan, dapat mahalin. Appreciate, v. [apríciet] Apreciar, estimar. Magpahalaga, magmahal. Appreciation, n. [apriciécien] Valuacion, estimacion, apreciacion. Paghahalaga, pagmamahal. Apprehend, n. [aprijénd] Aprehender, prender. Humuli, dumakip. Apprehender, n. [aprijénder] El que aprehende. Tagahuli, tagadakip. Apprehensible, adj. [aprijénsibl] Comprensible. Napag-uunawà. Apprehension, n. [aprijéncien] Aprehencion; recelo; presa, captura. Kutob, hinalà; paghuli, pagdakip. Apprehensive, adj. [aprijénsiv] Aprehensivo; timido. Magugunihin; matatakutin. Apprentice, n. [apréntis] Aprendiz. Baguhan; ang nag-aaral pa ng anomang hanap-buhay. Apprentice, v. [apréntis] Poner á alguno de aprendiz. Maglagay ng baguhan. Apprenticeship, n. [apréntischip] Aprendizaje. Pag-aaral, pagsasanay. Apprise, v. [apráis] Informar ó dar parte. Magbigay-alam. Approach, n. [apróch] Acceso, la accion de llegar ó acercase. Paglapit. Approach, v. [apróch] Acercarse, aproximarse. Lumapit. Approachable, adj. [apróchebl] Aproximable. Malapítlapít. Approbation, n. [aprobécien] Aprobacion. Pagsubok, pagsuri; pahintulot, pagpapatunay. Approbatory, adj. [aprobétori] Aprobativo. Napatutunayan, napahihintulutan. Approof, n. [aprúf] Aprobacion. Pagpapatunay, pagpapatotoo, pahintulot. Appropriable, adj. [aprópriabl] Apropriable. Magagawang pag-aarì. Appropriate, adj. [aprópriet] Apropriado; particular. Bagay, ukol, dapat; bukod-tangì. Appropriate, v. [aprópriet] Apropiar. Umarì, kumamkam, umangkin. Appropriation, n. [apropriécien] Apropriacion. Pag-arí, pag-angkin. Approvable, adj. [aprúvabl] Lo que merece aprobacion. Mapahihintulutan, mapapayagan. Approval, n. [aprúval] Aprobacion. Pahintulot, katotohanan. Approve, v. [aprúv] Aprobar, probar. Sumubok, subukin, tikman. Approximate, adj. [apróksimet] Próximo, inmediato. Malapit. Approximate, v. [apróksimet] Aproximar, acercarse. Lumapit. Approximation, n. [aproksimécien] Aproximacion. Lapit, kalapitan. Appurtenance, n. [apértenans] Adjunto; pertenencia. Kalakip, kaukulan. Apricot, n. [ápricot] Albaricoque. Albarikoke (isang bunga ng kahoy). April, n. [épril] Abril. Abril. Apron, n. [épron] Devantal, delantal. Tapis, tapî. Apropos, adv. [apropós] Á propósito. Bagay. Apt, adv. [apt] Apto, idóneo. May kaya; karapatdapat sanáy, bihasá, ukol, maaarì. Apterous, adj. [ápteroes] Áptero, sin alas. Walang pakpak. Aptitude, n. [áptitiud] Aptitud, idoneidad. Kakayahan, kasanayán, karapatán, kabagayán. Aptly, adv. [áptli] Aptamente. May kakayahan, may kasanayán, may pagkaarì. Apyrous, adj. [ápiræs] Dícese de las piedras y tierras que resisten al fuego. Ang mga bato't lupà na dî tinatablan ng apoy. Aqua, n. [ácua] Agua. Tubig. Aquarium, n. [acuárium] Acuario. Tangké na kinalalagyan ng mga isdâ at ng anomang nabubuhay sa tubig. Aquatic, adj. [acuátic] Acuático. Ukol sa tubig. Aqueduct, n. [ácueduct] Acueducto. Alulod, sangka, agusán ó dáluyan ng tubig. Aqueous, adj. [ácuios] Acuoso. Parang tubig. Aquiline, adj. [acuiláin] Aguileño. Ukol sa ágila ó tila ágila. Arab, n. [érab] Árabe. Árabe, taga Arabya. Arabian, adj. [arébian] Árabe. Árabe, taga Arabya. Arabic, adj. [árabic] Lengua arabíga, el árabe. Wikang árabe. Arabic, adj. [árabic] Arábigo, arábico. Ukol sa Arabya. Arabist, n. [árabist] Persona versada en lengua arábiga. Marunong ng wikang árabe. Arable, adj. [árabl] Labrantío, dispuesto ó apto para la labranza. Nabubungkal, naaararo, nabubukid. Arbiter, n. [árbiter] Arbitrador, árbitro. Tagahatol, hukom. Arbitrary, adj. [árbitreri] Arbitrario, despótico. Mabagsik, hindî tumutunton sa katwiran, nagpupunò ng walang takdang kautusan. Arbitrate, v. [árbitret] Arbitrar, juzgar como árbitro. Magpasiya ó humatol na parang hukom. Arbitration, n. [arbitrécien] Arbitramento, arbitrio. Ang pagkakasundo ng nangagkakasigalot sa ayos ó pasiya ng tagahatol. Arbor, n. [árboer] Emparrado, enramada, glorieta. Balag, glorieta, kakahuyan. Arboreous, adj. [arbórioes] Arbóreo. Ukol sa kahoy. Arborescent, adj. [arborécent] Arborecente. Tila punong kahoy, warì punong kahoy. Arbour, n. [árboer] Emparrado, enramada, glorieta. Balag, glorieta, kakahuyan. Arc, n. [arc] Arco de círculo. Balangaw, hubog balantok, arkó. Arcade, n. [arkéd] Arcada, bóveda. Balabalantok, bóbeda. Arcanum, n. [arkénoem] Arcano. Dî matarok na lihim, hiwagà. Arch, n. [arch] Arco. Balantok, busog; arkó, hubog. Arch, v. [arch] Abovedar. Humubog, gumawâ ng arkó. Arch, adj. [arch] Principal, primero; travieso, inquieto, pícaro. Pangulo, una; malikot, switik. Archæology, n. [arkiólodchi] Arqueología. Ang karunungan sa panunurì ng mga monumento, medalya ó anomang alaalang tirá noong unang panahon. Archaic, adj. [árkaik] Arcaico. Laón, lumà, dati. Archangel, n. [arkéndchel] Arcángel. Arkanghel, anghel na may mataas na kalagayan. Archbishop, n. [archbísiop] Arzobispo. Arsobispo. Archbishoprick, n. [archbísiopric] Arzobispado. Ang katungkulan at saklaw ng arsobispo. Archdeacon, n. [archdícn] Arcediano. Arsediano, ó pangulong diákono; isa sa mga katungkulan sa katedral. Archer, n. [árchoer] Arquero. Mámamanà, tagapanghilagpos. Archery, n. [árcheri] El arte de tirar con arco y flecha. Pamamanà, pagpapahilagpos. Archipelago, n. [arkipélago] Archipiélago. Kapuluan. Architect, n. [árkitect] Arquitecto. Arkitekto, ang gumagawà ng anyo ó plano ng bahay ó anomang gusalì. Architectural, adj. [arkitéctural] Arquitéctico. Nauukol sa paggawâ ng plano ó anyô ng bahay ó anomang gusalì. Architecture, n. [árkitectiur] Arquitectura. Ang karunungan sa pag-aanyo at paggawâ ng bahay. Archives, n. [árcaivs] Archivos. Archibo, lágakan ng mga kasulatan at aklat ng isang káwanihan, bayan ó bansa. Archivist, n. [árkivist] Archivero. Tagapag-ingat ng archibo. Archway, n. [árch-ue] Arcada, bóveda. Balantok sa bahay, bubong na balantok; dáanan sa ilalim ng balantok. Arctic, adj. [árctic] Ártico, septentrional. Nauukol sa hilagaan. Ardency, ardor, n. [árdensi, árdor] Ardor, vehemencia, calor. Ningas ng kalooban, kapusukan. Ardent, adj. [árdent] Ardiente, vehemente; apasionado, ansioso. Maningas, maalab; maningas na loob, mapusok. Arduous, adj. [árduos] Arduo, dificil; laborioso. Mahirap gawin, mabigat gawin; masipag. Area, n. [éria] Área. Lawak, lakí. Argil, n. [árdchil] Arcilla. Lupang malagkit, (lupang ginagamit sa paggawâ ng mga sisidlang lupà). Argue, v. [árguiu] Razonar, disputar. Magmatwid, makipagmatwiranan. Argument, n. [árguiument] Argumento, razonamiento. Pangangatwiran. Argumentative, adj. [arguiuméntetiv] Argumentativo. Ukol sa pangangatwiran. Arid, adj. [árid] Árido, seco. Tuyô, basal. Aridity, n. [aríditi] Sequedad. Katuyûan, pagkatuyô. Aright, adv. [aráit] Acertadamente. Tamà, matwid. Arise, v. [eráis] Levantarse, nacer, provenir. Bumangon, manggaling, magmulâ. Aristocracy, n. [aristócresi] Aristocracia. Kapisanan ng mga mahal na tao. Aristocrat, n. [arístocrat] Aristócrata. Mahal na tao. Arithmetic, n. [arízmetic] Aritmética. Aritmétika, karunungan sa pagbilang at pagtútuos. Arithmetical, adj. [arizmétical] Aritmético. Ukol sa aritmétika. Arithmetician, n. [arizmetícian] Aritmético. Marunong ng aritmétika. Ark, n. [arc] Arca. Malaking sasakyan; kabán. Arm, n. [arm] Brazo; arma. Bisig, braso; almás, sakbat. Arm, v. [arm] Armar. Magsakbat, mag-almás. Armament, n. [ármament] Armamento. Mga kasangkapang panglaban. Armed, adj. [armd] Armado. Nakaalmás, may sakbát. Armful, n. [ármful] Brazada. Pangkó. Armhole, n. [ármjol] Sobaco. Kilikili. Armistice, n. [ármistis] Armisticio. Pagpapahingá ng labanan sa pamamagitan ng kásunduan. Armless, adj. [ármles] Desarmado. Walang almás, inalisan ng almás. Armor, n. [ármor] Armadura. Kasuutang ginagamit sa digmà upang hwag tablán. Armorer, n. [ármoeroer] Armero, el artífice que fabrica armas. Manggagawà ng almás. Armory, n. [ármori] Armería. Taguan ng almás. Armpit, n. [ármpit] Sobaco. Kilikili. Arms, n. [arms] Armas. Mga sakbat, almás. Army, n. [ármi] Ejército. Hukbo. Arnica, n. [arníca] Arníca. Arnika. Aroma, n. [aróma] Aroma. Ang bulaklak ng aroma ó ng acacia; bangó. Aromatic, adj. [aromátic] Aromático. Mabangó. Around, prep. [eráund] En, cerca. Sa, malapit sa. Around, adv. [eráund] Al rededor. Sa palibot, sa paligid. Arouse, v. [eráus] Despertar, exitar. Gumising, pumukaw; magbuyó, umudyok, sumulsol. Arow, adv. [eró] En fila, en linea. Nakahanay, nakaayos. Arquebuse, n. [árcueboes] Arcabuz. Astinggal. Arraign, v. [arrén] Citar, emplazar; acusar. Tawagin sa húkuman; magsakdal. Arraignment, n. [arrénment] Emplazo; acusacion. Pagpapaharap sa húkuman; pagsasakdal. Arrange, v. [arréndch] Colocar, arreglar. Maglagay, humusay; umayos. Arrangement, n. [arréndchment] Colocacion, orden. Pagkalagay, pagkahusay, pagkaayos; ayos, husay. Arrant, adj. [érrant] Malo, perverso. Masamâ, tampalasan. Arrantly, adv. [árrantli] Coruptamente. May kasamaan. Array, v. [arré] Adorno, vestido; orden de batalla. Gayak, bihis; ayos sa pakikipaglaban. Array, v. [arré] Colocar, poner en orden; adornar. Lumagay, humanay, umayos; maggayak. Arrear, n. [arríer] Resto de una deuda, atraso. Kakulangan sa ipinagkautan. Arrearage, n. [arríæredch] Resto de una deuda, atraso. Kakulangan sa ipinagkautang. Arrest, n. [arrést] Prision, arresto. Paghuli, pagdakip. pagbibilanggô. Arrest, v. [arrést] Arrestar. Humuli, dumakip, magbilanggo, ibilangô. Arrival, n. [arráival] Llegada, arribo. Pagdating, pagsapit, pagdatal. Arrive, v. [arráiv] Arribar, llegar. Dumating, sumapit. Arrogance, n. [árrogans] Arrogancia, presuncion. Kagilasan, gilas, kahambugan kapalaluan. Arrogant, adj. [árrogant] Arrogante, orgulloso. Magilas, hambog, palalò. Arrogantly, adv. [árrogantli] Arrogantemente. May pagkamagilas, may pagkapalaló. Arrogate, v. [árroguet] Arrogarse, presumir de sí. Umangkin, kumanya, maghambog. Arrow, n. [áro] Flecha, saeta. Panà, palasô. Arse, n. [árs] Culo, trasera, nalgas. Pwit, pwitan. Arsenal, n. [ársinal] Arsenal. Gáwaan at kámaligan ng mga sakbat ng hukbó. Arsenic, n. [ársenic] Arsénico. Isang urì ng metal at ang katas na lason na kinukuha sa metal na iyan. Arson, n. [ársoen] Incendio intencional. Sunog na kinusà. Art, n. [art] Arte. Arte, kulukutî, kaalaman. Arterial, adj. [artírial] Arterial. Ukol sa ugat. Artery, n. [árteri] Arteria. Ugat, ugat na naghahatid ng dugô mula sa pusò. Artesian well, n. [artésian uel] Poso artesiano. Balóng bukalán ng tubig. Artful, adj. [ártful] Artificioso, artiticial; diestro. Likhâ, hindî katutubò; matalinò, mapaglikhâ. Article, n. [árticl] Artículo. Pang-akbay; bagay; pangkat; bahagi ng kasulatan. Article, v. [árticl] Capitular. Magpangkat, pumangkat. Articular, adj. [artíkiular] Articular. Nauukol sa kasukasuan. Articulate, adj. [artíkiulet] Articulado, claro. Malinaw, maliwanag. Articulate, v. [artíkiulet] Articular, hablar distintamente. Bumigkas ng malinaw, magsalitâ ng maliwanag. Articulately, adv. [artíkiuletli] Articuladamente. May kaliwanagang badya ó bigkás. Articulation, n [artíkiulecien] Articulacion. Pananalitâ ng maliwanag. Artifice, n. [ártifis] Artificio, fraude, engaño. Laláng, dayà; katusuhan, kaswitikan. Artificer, n. [artífiser] Artesano, artista. Matalinong manggagawà sa pamamagitan ng kamay. Artificial, adj. [artifícial] Artificial. Ang yarì sa katalinuan, ang gawâ sa pamamagitan ng dunong. Artillery, n. [artílæri] Artillería. Kanyon, mga kawal na nagpapaputok ng kanyon. Artisan, n. [ártisan] Artesano. Manggagawà. Artist, n. [ártist] Artista, el que profesa algun arte. Artista, ang lumalabas sa dulaan (ó teatro). Artistic, adj. [artístic] Artístico. Ukol sa gawang nagpapakilalang may kainaman. Artless, adj. [ártles] Simple, sencillo. Karaniwan, musmos. As, conj. [as] Como, igualmente, mientras, tambien. Gaya, para, gayon din, kung paano, yamang. Ascend, v. [asénd] Ascender, subir. Umahon, sumampa, tumaas, umilanglang. Ascendant, n. [aséndant] Altura, elevacion. Taas, ilangláng. Ascendant, adj. [aséndant] Ascendiente, superior. Paahon, paitaas. Ascendancy, n. [aséndensi] Influjo, poder. Lakas, kapangyarihan. Ascension, n. [aséncien.] Ascencion. Pag-akyat, pag-ahon, pag-sampá, pag-ilanglang. Ascent, n. [ásent] Subida. Ahunín, sampáhin. Ascertain, v. [asertén] Asegurar, establecer, afirmar, fijar. Tumantô, tumuus; magpatunay. Ascribe, v. [ascráib] Adscribir, atribuir. Magtalaga, italaga, ipagpalagay. Ascription, n. [ascrípcien] Atribucion. Pagkatalaga, pagkapalagay. Ash, n. [ash] Fresno. Punong kahoy na masanga't mayabong. Ang kahoy ay maputi't matibay. Ashamed, adj. [esiémd] Avergonzado. Nápahiyâ. Ash-colored, adj. [ash-colord] Ceniciento. Kulay abó. Ashes, n. [ásies] Ceniza. Abó. Ashore, adv. [esiór] En tierra. Sa lupà, sa pangpang, sa kati. Ash-tub, n. [ash-toeb] Cenicero. Sisidlan ng abó. Ash-Wednesday, n. [ash-uédnesday] Miércoles de ceniza. Myerkoles de senisa. Ashy, adj. [áshi] Cenizoso, ceniciento. Kulay-abó. Asia, n. [ésia] Asia. Asya. Asian, adj. [ésian] Asiático. Taga Asya. Asiatic, adj. [esiátic] Asiático. Taga Asya. Aside, adv. [asáid] Al lado, á un lado; aparte. Sa tabí, sa tagiliran; bukod. Asinine, adj. [ásinain] Asinino. Mukhang humento, ugaling humento. Ask, v. [ask] Pedir, rogar; preguntar, interrogar. Humingî, sumamò; tumanong, magtanong. Askant, adj. [askánt] Al sesgo, oblicuamente. Pahaláng. Askew, adj. [askiú] Oblicuamente, de travez. Pahaláng. Aslant, adj. [aslánt] Oblicuamente. Pahaláng. Asleep, adv. [aslíp] Dormido. Natutulog, tulóg. Aslope, adv. [aslóp] Al sesgo. Pababâ, paliwas. Asp, n. [asp] Áspid, serpiente venenosa. Ahas na makamandag. Asparagus, n. [aspáraguoes] Espárrago. Isang urí ng guguláyin. Aspect, n. [áspect] Aspecto, semblante. Bikas, anyô, mukhâ, hichura, tabas. Asper, adj. [ásper] Áspero. Masaklap, maaskád, masukal ang loob, bakôbakô. Asperate, v. [ásperet] Hacer áspero. Pasaklapín, paaskarin, pasukalin ang loob, gawing bakôbakô. Asperifolious, adj. [asperifólioes] Dícese de las plantas que tienen ásperas las hojas.. Ang halamang may mapapaklá ó maaaskad na dahon. Asperity, n. [aspériti] Aspereza, rigidez, rudeza. Saklap, askad, sukal ng loob, bakôbakô. Asperse, v. [aspérs] Difamar, calumniar. Mamintas, manirang-puri. Aspersion, n. [aspérsion] Defamacion, tacha. Pintas, kasiraang puri. Asphalt, n. [asfált] Asfalto. Pagkakahalò ng sarisaring bagay na ginagamit na panambak sa daan. Asphyxia, n. [asfícsia] Asfixia. Inís, hindî makahingá. Asphyxiate, v. [asfícsiet] Asfixiar. Uminis; inisín, hwag pahingahin. Aspirant, adj. [áspirænt] Aspirante, pretendiente; candidato. Ang nagnanasà, ang naghahangad; kandidato. Aspirate, v. [áspiret] Aspirar, pronunciar con aspiracion. Magbadyá ng tinig h. Aspiration, n. [aspirécien] Aspiracion. Nasà, hangad. Aspire, v. [aspáir] Aspirar, pretender. Magnasà, maghangad. Asquint, adv. [ascuínt] Al soslayo, de travez. Pasulyap. Ass, n. [as] Burro, borrico; asno; tonto, ignorante. Burro, burriko, hangal. Assail, v. [asél] Acometer, asaltar, atacar. Maniil, mangloob, mangharang, dumaluhong, humandulong. Assailable, adj. [asélabl] Lo que puede ser asaltado. Ang mahaharang, masisiil, malolooban. Assailant, n. [asélant] Acometedor, asaltador, agresor. Manghaharang, tulisan, mangloloob, mániniil, mangdadaluhong. Assailment, n. [asélment] Asalto, acometimiento. Panghaharang, pangloloob, paniniil, pangdadaluhong. Assassin, n. [asásin] Asesino. Mámamátay-tao. Assassinate, v. [asásinet] Asesinar. Pumatay ng tao. Assassination, n. [asásinesien] Asesinato. Pagpatay ng tao. Assault, n. [asólt] Asalto, acometimiento de alguna plaza. Paglusob, pagdaluhong, pangloloob. Assault, v. [asólt] Asaltar, acometer. Lumusob, dumaluhong, mangloob, mangharang. Assay, n. [aséi] Ensayo, prueba, experimento. Pagsasanay, pagsubok, tikim. Assay, v. [aséi] Ensayar, experimentar. Sumubok, subukin, tikman. Assemblage, n. [asémbledch] Coleccion, multitud. Katipunan, kapisanan; karamihan. Assemble, v. [asémbl] Congregar, convocar. Magpulong, magpisan. Assembly, n. [asémbli] Asamblea, congreso. Kapulungan. Assent, n. [asént] Asenso, consentimiento, aprobacion. Pahintulot, pagpayag. Assent, v. [asént] Asentir, aprobar. Magpahintulot, pumayag, umayon. Assert, v. [asért] Sostener, mantener, afirmar, asegurar. Umalalay, kumandilì; umoo. Assertion, n. [asércien] Asercion. Alalay, handilì; paoo. Assertor, n. [asértær] Afirmador, defensor. Tagaayon, tagapagsanggalang. Assess, v. [asés] Amillarar. Humalaga ó tumasa ng dapat ibwís ng mámamayan sang-ayon sa halagá ng lupà ó pag-aarì na ipinagbabayad sa pámahalaan. Assessment, n. [asésment] Amillaramiento. Amilyaramyento, halaga ó tasa ng pag-aarì na ibinabayad sa pámahalaan. Assessor, n. [asésoer] Asesor, tasador de impuestos. Tagatasa ng bwis. Assets, n. [ásets] Caudal, fondos. Yaman, boong kahalagahan ng pag-aarì ó tinatangkilik. Asseverate, v. [asevéret] Aseverar, afirmar. Magpatunay, magpatotoo. Asseveration, n. [aseverécien] Aseveracion, afirmacion. Pagpapatunay, pagpapatotoo. Assiduity, n. [asidiúiti] Asiduidad, laboriosidad. Sikap, sipag. Assiduous, adj. [asídiues] Asiduo, aplicado. Masikap, masipag. Assign, v. [asáin] Asignar, señalar; ceder. Magtakdâ, magtandâ, magtadhanà; ipagkaloob, ilipat sa iba. Assign, n. [asáin] Asignacion; cesion. Takdâ, tadhanà; paglilipat sa iba. Assignable, adj. [asaínabl] Asignable. Matatakdaan, matatadhanaan. Assignee, n. [asainí] Síndico, apoderado, cesionario. Sinalinan ng kapangyarihan. Assigner, n. [asáiner] Asignante; transferente. Ang nagtatakdâ ó nagtatadhanâ; ang nagsasalin sa iba. Assignment, n. [asáinment] Asignacion; cesion. Pagtatakdâ, pagtatadhanà; paglilipat sa iba. Assimilable, adj. [asímilebl] Semejante. Kahwad, kawangis, kamukhâ, kagaya. Assimilate, v. [asímilet] Asemejar. Tumulad, pumaris, gumaya; maghwad, magwangis, magmukhâ, igaya. Assimilation, n. [asimilécien] Asimilacion; semejanza. Hwad, wangis, wangkî. Assist, v. [asíst] Asistir, ayudar, auxiliar. Tumulong, sumaklolo, umabuloy. Assistance, n. [asístans] Asistencia, auxilio, apoyo. Tulong, saklolo, abuloy. Assistant, n. [asístant] Asistente ó ayudante. Katulong. Associate, adj. [asóciet] Asociado, confederado. Kasamá. Associate, n. [asóciet] Socio; compañero. Kasamá; kasama. Associate, v. [asóciet] Asociar. Sumamá, makisamá. Association, n. [asociécion] Asociacion; sociedad. Samahan, kapisanan. Assort, v. [asórt] Clasificar, adecuar. Umurì, magbagaybagay. Assortment, n. [asórtment] El acto de clasificar. Pag-urì, pagbabagay-bagay. Assuage, v. [asuédch] Mitigar, suavizar, calmar, apaciguar. Magpalubay, magpatahimik, magpahumpâ. Assuasive, adj. [asuésiv] Mitigativo. Nakapagpapalubay, nakapagpapatahimik. Assume, v. [asiúm] Tomar; arrogar, apropiar; presumir. Kumuha; umarì ng sa ibá, kanyahin; maghinalà. Assumption, n. [asémcien] Apropiacion. Pag-arìng kanya; pagkanya. Assurance, n. [asiúrans] Seguridad, certeza. Pagtiwalà, pag-asa. Assure, v. [asiúr] Asegurar. Asahan. Assured, adj. [asiúrd] Seguro, cierto. Maaasahan, totoo. Assuredly, adv. [asiúredli] Ciertamente, sin duda. Totoong-totoo, walang pagsala. Astern, adv. [astérn] Por la popa. Sa gawíng likod, sa likod. Asthma, n. [ástma] Asma. Hikà. Asthmatic, adj. [asmátic] Asmático. Híkain. Astonish, v. [astónish] Asombrar, pasmar, enajenar. Mámanghâ, magtaká, manggilalás. Astonishing, adj. [astónishing] Asombroso. Kamanghâmanghâ, katakátaká, kagilágilalás. Astonishment, n. [astónishment] Pasmo, asombro. Pagkámanghâ, pagtataká panggigilalás. Astound, v. [astáund] Consternar, pasmar. Manggilalás, mabalisá. Astraddle, adv. [astrádl] Á horcajadas. Pahalang. Astral, adj. [ástral] Astral, de los astros. Ukol sa talà. Astray, adv. [astré] Desviado, errado. Náligaw, nálisyâ. Astride, adv. [astráid] Con las piernas abiertas. Saklâ, bukakâ. Astrologer, n. [astróloger] Astrólogo. Ang marunong ng tungkol sa talà at bituin. Astrology, n. [astrólodchi] Astrología. Karunungan tungkol sa mga talà at bituin. Astronomer, n. [astrónomer] Astrónomo. Ang marunong ng tungkol sa lakí, sukat at kilos ng mga talà, bituin at ibp. Astronomy, n. [astrónomi] Astronomía. Karunungan tungkol sa lakí, sukat at kilos ng mga talà, bituin at ibp. Astute, adj. [astiút] Astuto. Tuso, switik. Asunder, adv. [asánder] Separadamente, aparte. Hiwalay, bukod, tangì. Asylum, n. [asáilæm] Asilo, refugio. Ampunan, álagaan, kandilian. At, prep. [at] Á, en. Sa. Atheism, n. [áziism] Ateismo. Ang pananalig na walang Dyos. Atheist, n. [áziist] Ateista ó ateo. Ang may pananalig na walang Dyos. Athirst, adv. [azérst] Sediento. Uháw. Athlete, n. [azlít] Atleta. Taong malakás at bihasa sa mga larong pangpalakas ng katawan. Athletic, adj. [azlétic] Atlético. Ukol sa mga larong pangpalakas ng katawan. Athwart, prep. [azuórt] Al ó á travez, de travez, de un modo atravesado. Pahalang. Atlantic, n. [atlántic] Atlántico. Atlántiko, (isang dagat). Atlas, n. [átlas] Átlas. Atlas, pagkakasama sa isang aklat ng mga mapa ng iba't ibang lupain ó bansâ. Atmosphere, n. [átmosfir] Atmósfera. Panganorin, ang kapisanan ng hangin at ng sarisaring singaw ng panahon na nakaliligid sa sangdaigdig hanggang sanggayong lawak. Atmospheric, adj. [atmosféric] Atmosférico. Ukol sa panganorin. Atom, n. [atoem] Átomo. Napaka munting bagay. Atomic, adj. [atómic] Atómico. Munting muntî. Atone, v. [atón] Expiar, apaciguar, aplacar. Magtakip ng sala, magpalubag loob, magpatahimik. Atonement, n. [atónment] Expiacion, propiciacion, concordia. Pagtatakip ng salâ, pangpalubag-loob, pakikipagkasundô. Atonic, adj. [atónic] Lo que está falto de vigor. Mahinà, walang lakás. Atop, adv. [atóp] Encima. Sa ibabaw. Atrocious, adj. [atróciæs] Atroz, enorme. Nakapangingilabot, tampalasan, balakyot. Atrocity, n. [atrósiti] Atrocidad. Kabalakyutan, katampalasanan. Attach, v. [atách] Prender, pillar, asir, coger; apegarse. Dumakip, humuli, tumangan, humawak; idugtong, ikabít. Attachment, n. [atáchment] Amistad, enlace, afecto, adhesion; aprehension; embargo. Pakikipag-ibigan, pakikisapì; pagkahuli; dugtong; sanglâ. Attack, n. [atác] Ataque, embestida. Daluhong, paglaban, salakay, paglusob. Attack, v. [atác] Atacar, acometer. Dumaluhong, lumaban, sumalakay, lumusob. Attain, v. [atén] Ganar, procurar, lograr, alcanzar. Magtaglay, magkamit, magtamó, umabot, magsumikap. Attainable, adj. [aténabl] Asequible, lo que se puede conseguir. Matataglay, makakamit, matatamó, maaabot. Attainment, n. [aténment] Logro, consecucion de lo que se pretende. Pagtataglay, pagkakamít, pagtatamó, pagkaabot. Attempt, n. [atémpt] Empresa, experimento, prueba, tentativa. Pagsubok, pagtikím. Attempt, v. [atémpt] Intentar, probar, experimentar. Sumubok, tumikim. Attend, v. [aténd] Atender, servir, prestar atencion, considerar. Lumingap, kumandilì, duminig, maglingkod. Attendance, n. [aténdans] Atencion, cuidado; servicio; acompañamiento. Paglingap, pagkandilì; paglilingkod; abay. Attendant, n. [aténdant] Sirviente, servidor; acompañante. Alilà, lingkod, abay. Attention, n. [aténcien] Atencion, miramiento, cuidado. Lingap, ingat, kalingâ. Attentive, adj. [aténtiv] Atento. Maingat, taimtim. Attenuant, adj. [aténuant] Atenuante. Nagpapahinà, nagpápapayát. Attenuate, v. [aténuet] Atenuar, adelgazar. Magpahinà, magpapayát. Attest, v. [atést] Atestiguar, declarar. Sumaksí, magpahayag. Attestation, n. [atestécien] Atestacion, testimonio. Pagsaksí, pagpapatotoo. Attic, n. [átic] Desvan, guardilla. Ang pagitan ng kísame at bubungan. Attire, n. [atáir] Atavío; el adorno y compostura de la persona. Bihis, gayak, pamuti. Attire, v. [atáir] Ataviar, asear, adornar. Magbihis, maggayak, magpalamuti. Attitude, n. [átitiud] Actitud. Tayô, lagay, anyô, tindíg. Attorney, n. [atórni] Abogado, procurador, agente, apoderado. Abogado, katiwalà, pintakasi. Attract, v. [atráct] Atraer, persuadir. Gumanyak, humalina, humikayat. Attraction, n. [atráccien] Atraccion. Pangganyak, panghalina, panghikayat. Attractive, adj. [atráctiv] Atractivo, atrayente. Nakagaganyak, nakahahalina, kahalihalina, nakahihikayat. Attribute, n. [atríbiut] Atributo. Ang mga sakdal na kaloob ng Dyos gaya ng dunong, kapangyarihan. Attribute, v. [atríbiut] Atribuir; achacar, imputar. Magparatang, magpalagay. Attribution, n. [atribiúcien] Cualidades atribuidas, atributo. Paratang, palagay. Attributive, adj. [atríbiutiv] Atributivo. Ukol sa paratang. Auburn, adj. [óbærn] Moreno, castaño. Kuyomanggí, namumulang kulay kuyomanggí. Auction, n. [óccien] Almoneda, pública subasta. Almoneda. Auction, v. [óccien] Almonedear. Mag-almoneda. Auctioneer, n. [occienír] Almonedero. Ang nag-aalmoneda. Audacious, adj. [odécies] Audaz, atrevido. Pangahás, matapang. Audacity, n. [odáciti] Audacia, osadía. Kapangahasan, katapangan. Audible, adj. [ódibl] Audible. Náririnig. Audience, n. [ódiens] Audiencia; auditorio. Kapulungan ng nangakikinig; pakikinig. Audit, v. [ódit] Rematar una cuenta, examinar. Maglinaw ng isang kautangan, sumiyasat; tumuus. Audit, n. [ódit] Remate de una cuenta. Paglilinaw ng isang kautangan, pagtutuos, pagsiyasat. Auditor, n. [óditor] Oidor; oyente, el que oye. Tagatuos; tagadinig, tagalinaw ng isang kautangan. Auditory, n. [óditori] Auditorio. Dakong pákinigan. Auger, n. [óguær] Barrena, taladro. Balibol, pangbutas, barrena. Aught, pron. [ot] Algo, alguna cosa. Anoman, balang.... Augment, n. [ogmént] Añadidura, aumento. Dagdag, patong. Augment, v. [ogmént] Aumentar, crecer. Magdagdag, magparami, lakihan. Augmentation, n. [ogmentécien] Aumentacion, aumento. Dagdag, patong. Augur, n. [óguær] Taladro; agorero, adivino. Pangbutas, barrena; mapamahiin, manghuhulà. Augur, v. [óguær] Taladrar; adivinar, pronosticar. Bumutas, barrenahin; humulà, manghulà. Augury, n. [óguæri] Agüero, presagio. Pamahiin, hulà. August, adj. [óguæst] Augusto, majestuoso. Marangal, kagalanggalang, karangaldangal. August, n. [óguæst] Agosto. Agosto, ikawalong bwan sa isang taón. Augustness, n. [oguæstnes] Majestuosidad, grandeza, majestad. Karangalan, kainaman. Aunt, n. [ant] Tia. Ale, ali, tia. Aural, adj. [óral] Aural. Nauukol sa taynga. Auricular, adj. [oríkiular] Auricular. Nauukol sa taynga. Aurist, n. [órist] Aurista. Manggamot sa taynga. Aurora, n. [oróra] Aurora, crepúsculo de la mañana. Bukáng liwayway. Auspice, n. [óspis] Auspicio, proteccion. Ampon, kandilì. Auspicious, adj. [ospícies] Próspero, favorable. Mapalad, pinapalad. Austere, adj. [ostír] Austero, severo, rígido. Mahigpit, mabagsik, mabangis. Austerity, n. [ostériti] Austeridad, rigor; crueldad. Kahigpitán, kabagsikán, kabangisan. Authentic, adj. [ozéntic] Auténtico. Tunay, totoo. Authenticate, v. [ozéntiket] Autenticar. Patotohanan, patunayan, ipakilala ang katotohanan. Authenticity, n. [ozentísiti] Autenticidad. Ang katotohanan, ang katunayan. Author, n. [ózor] Autor. Autor, mángangathâ, may-kathâ, may-likhâ. Authoress, n. [ózores] Autora. Autora, babaing mángangathâ, babaing may-kathâ, babaing may-likhâ. Authoritative, adj. [ozorítetiv] Autorizado, autoritativo. May kapangyarihan, binigyan ng kapangyarihan. Authority, n. [ozóriti] Autoridad, potestad. Kapangyarihan, kapahintulutan. Authorization, n. [ozorícecien] Autorizacion. Pahintulot. Authorize, v. [ózoraiz] Autorizar. Magpahintulot, magbigay ng kapangyarihan. Authorship, n. [ózorship] La calidad de autor. Pagkaautor, pagkamaykathâ, pagkamaylikhâ. Autobiography, n. [otobayógrafi] Autobiografía. Ang pagsulat ng sariling kabuhayan. Autocrat, n. [ótocrat] Autócrata. Apò, Ang kápunupunuan na pinapangyayari ang kanyang máibigan. Autocratic, adj. [otocrátic] Autocrático. Nauukol sa apò, pag-aapo-apûan. Autograph, n. [ótograf] Autógrafo. Sulat ng kanyang sariling kamay. Autographic, adj. [otógrafic] Autográfico. Nauukol sa sulat ng sariling kamay. Automatical, adj. [otomátical] Automático. Mákinang humúhwad sa kilos ng may buhay. Autonomy, n. [otónomi] Autonomia. Kalayaan ng isang bayan ó bansá na mamahalá ayon sa kanyang sariling kautusan. Autopsy, n. [ótopsi] Autopsia. Pagsaliklik ó paglitis ng nagíng dahilan ng ikinamatay. Autumn, n. [ótom] Otoño. Otonyo, tagulan. Autumnal, adj. [otómnal] Otoñal. Nauukol sa Otonyo ó tagulan. Auxiliar, auxiliary, adj. [oksílier, oksílieri] Auxiliar, auxiliatorio. Katulong, kawaní. Avail, n. [avél] Provecho, ventaja. Pakinabang. Avail, v. [avél] Aprovechar; servir, ayudar. Makinabang; maglingkod; tumulong. Available, adj. [avélabl] Util, ventajoso. Napapakinabangan, nagagamit. Avalanche, n. [ávalanch] Lurte ó alud. Ang natitibag na putol ng esnó (ó namuong tubig). Avarice, n. [áværis] Avaricia. Kasakiman; katakawan. Avaricious, adj. [avaríciæs] Avaro, avariento. Sakim; matakaw. Avast, adv. [avást] Forte. Pigil, hawak. Avaunt, interj. [avónt] ¡Fuera! ¡fuera de aquí! ¡quita! ¡quita allá!. Sulong! tabì! lumayas ka! alis diyan! Ave Mary, n. [ávi Méri] Ave Maria. Aba Ginoong María. Avenge, v. [avéndch] Vengarse; castigar algun delito. Manghiganti; magparusa. Avengement, n. [avéndchment] Venganza. Higantí. Avenger, n. [avéndcher] Vengador. Mapanghigantí. Avenue, n. [avéniu] Avenida, calle de arboles. Lansangang mapunong kahoy sa kabíkabilang tabí. Aver, v. [avér] Asegurar, afirmar, verificar. Magpatunay, magpatotoo; matunayan, matotohanan. Average, n. [áværedch] Promedio, precio medio, término medio. Kurong humigit kumulang. Average, v. [áværedch] Tomar un termino medio. Kumurò ng humigit kumulang. Averse, adj. [avérs] Adverso, contrario. Salungat, salangsang, katalo, kalaban. Aversion, n. [avérciæn] Aversion, disgusto, odio. Samâ ng loob, sukal ng loob; pagtatanim. Avert, v. [avért] Desviar, apartar, alejar. Lumikô, lumihís; humiwalay; lumayô; umilag. Aviari, n. [évieri] Pajarera, aposento para criar ó tener pájaros. Dakong álagaan sa mga ibon. Avidity, n. [avíditi] Voracidad, codicia. Katakawan, kasakiman. Avocation, n. [avokécioen] Evocacion; ocupacion. Tawag, kaloob, katungkulan, hanap-buhay. Avoid, v. [avóid] Evitar. Umiwas, iwasan, umilag, ilagan. Avoidable, adj. [avóidabl] Evitable. Maiiwasan, maiílagan. Avoidance, n. [avóidans] El acto y efecto de evitar alguna cosa. Pag-iwas, pag-ilag. Avouch, v. [aváuch] Afirmar, justificar. Magpatotoo, magpatunay. Avouchment, n. [aváuchment] Declaracion, testimonio. Patotoo, pahayag. Avow, v. [aváu] Declarar, confesar. Magpahayag, maghayag. Avowal, n. [avóual] Declaracion justificativa, aprobacion. Pahayag ng pagpapatotoo, pagpayag. Avowedly, adv. [aváuedli] Declaradamente, abiertamente. Talaga, sadyâ. Await, v. [euét] Aguardar, esperar. Maghintay, mag-antay mag-antabay. Awake, v. [auék] Despertar. Gumising, pumukaw. Awake, adj. [euék] Despierto. Gisíng. Awaken, v. [euéken] Despertar. Gumising, pumukaw. Awaking, n. [euéking] Despertamiento. Pagkagising. Award, n. [auórd] Sentencia, determinacion. Hatol, pasiya. Award, v. [auórd] Juzgar, sentenciar; determinar. Humatol, magpasiya. Awarder, n. [auórder] Juez árbitro. Tagahatol. Aware, adj. [euér] Cauto, vigilante. Maingat, nakatanod. Away, adv. [euéy] Ausente, afuera. Walâ, sa labas. Awe, n. [o] Miedo ó temor reverencial, pavor. Pangimì, hiyâ, takot. Awe, v. [o] Amedrentar; asombrar. Tumakot, gumitlá. Awful, adj. [óful] Tremendo, horroroso. Kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak. Awfully, adv. [ófuli] Terriblemente. Kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak. Awful-eyed, adj. [óful-aid] El que tiene ojos espantosos. May matang mabalasik. Awfulness, n. [ófulnes] Respeto ó temor. Pangimì. Awhile, adv. [ejuáil] Un rato, algun tiempo. Sangdalî, kauntî, samantalà. Awkward, adj. [ókuord] Tosco, rudo, dificil. Magaspang, bastos, musmos; mahirap gawin. Awkwardness, n. [ókuordnes] Tosquedad, groceria. Kagaspangan, kabastusan. Awl, n. [ol] Lesna. Balibol, pangbutas. Awn, n. [on] Arista. Sungot. Awning, n. [óning] Toldo. Kulandong, takip. Awry, adv. [arái] Oblicuamente, al travez. Patabingî. Axe, n. [acs] Hacha. Palakol. Axiom, n. [ácsiæm] Axioma. Kawikaan, kasabihang may taglay na aral. Axiomatical, adj. [acsiométical] Lo que pertenece al axioma. Nauukol sa kasabihang may taglay na aral. Axis, n. [ácsis] Eje. Ehe, ikirán, pinipihitan. Axle-tree, n. [ácsl-tri] Eje de una rueda. Lalikán, ikirán, pinipihitan. Ay, adv. [ai] Sí. Oo, opò. Aye, adv. [e] Siempre, para siempre, jamas. Lagì mapakaylan man, kaylan man. Azimuth, n. [ázimæz] Azimut del sol ó de una estrella; el acto del horizonte que hay entre el círculo vertical en que está el astro, y el meridiano del lugar. Sinag, limbó. Azure, adj. [ázoer] Azulado, color cerúleo. Bughaw, mabughaw, asul. Azure, v. [ázoer] Azular. Gawíng kulay bughaw. Azymous, adj. [ázimoes] Ázimo. Walang lebadura. B B, [bi] B (be). B (ba). Baa, n. [ba] Balido. Tingig ó boses ng tupa. Baa, v. [ba] Balar. Umungal (iniuukol lamang sa tingig ó boses ng tupa). Babble, v. [bábl] Balbucear. Magsalitang parang musmos. Babble, n. [bábl] Charlar, charlatanería. Salitang musmos, satsat. Babbler, n. [báblær] Charlador, parlero. Mapagsalita ng walang kapakanan, satsatero. Babe, n. [bébi] Criatura, infante; el nene. Sanggol, nenè. Baboon, n. [babún] Cinócefalo. Malaking unggoy, oranggutang. Baby, n [bébi] Criatura, infante; el nene. Sanggol, nenè. Babyhood, n. [bébijud] Niñez, infancia. Pagkasanggol, pagkanenè. Babyish, adj. [bébish] Pueril. Parang sanggol, parang nenè. Bachelor, n. [báchelor] Soltero, célibe. Matandang bagong tao, matandang binatà. Bachelorship, n. [báchelorship] Soltería, celibato. Pagka matandang binatà. Back, adv. [bac] Atras ó detras. Urong sa dakong likod. Back, n. [bac] Espalda. Likod. Back, v. [bac] Sostener, montar á caballo. Paurungin, sumakay sa kabayo. Backbite, v. [bácbait] Murmurar, difamar, desacreditar. Manirang puri, umalimura sa likuran. Backbiter, n. [bácbaiter] Murmurador, detractor. Mapanirang puri, mapag-alimura. Backbiting, n. [bácbaiting] Detraccion. Paninirang puri, pag-alimura. Backbone, n. [bacbón] Hueso dorsal, espinazo. Gulugod, buto sa likod. Backdoor, n. [bácdor] Puerta trasera. Pintuan sa likuran. Backfriend, n. [bácfrend] Enemigo secreto, traidor. Kaibigang mapagpailalim, kaibigang taksil, kaibigang kasoy. Background, n. [bácgraund] Fondo. Ang looban sa likuran ng bahay. Backroom, n. [bácrum] Cuarto ó pieza trasera. Ang silid sa dakong likuran ng bahay. Backshop, n. [bácsiop] Trastienda. Ang dakong likuran ng tindahan. Backside, n. [bácsaid] Espalda, la parte de atras de cualquiera cosa; trasero. Likuran, ang dakong likuran ng anoman. Backslide, v. [bacsláid] Resbalar; tergiversar. Mádulas, lumihis sa pinag-uusapan. Backward, adv. [bácuærd] Atras; hacia atras; preposteramente. Urong; sa dakong likod; ng panahong nagdaan. Backward, adj. [bácuærd] Opuesto; enemigo, lerdo. Katalo, kaaway; mahirap kausapin. Backwardness, n. [bácuærdnes] Torpeza, pesadez, negligencia. Kadungûan, kamusmusan, kadwagan. Bacon, n. [bécn] Tocino, la carne salada del puerco. Tosino, karneng baboy na inasnan. Bad, adj. [bæd] Mal, malo; indispuesto. Masamâ; may karamdaman. Badge, n. [badch] Divisa, señal, símbolo. Sasisag, tandâ. Badge, v. [badch] Divisar, señalar con divisa. Magsagisag. Badger, v. [bádcher] Cansar, fatigar. Pumagod, pagurin, patâin, yamutin. Badinage, n. [bádinedch] Gracejo, jocosidad, burla, chanza. Tuksó, birò, pagpapatawá. Badly, adv. [bédli] Malamente. May kasamaan. Badness, n. [bédnes] Maldad. Kasamaan, samâ. Baffle, v. [báfl] Eludir; confundir; hundir. Tumalo, lumitó; maglubog. Bag, n. [bag] Saco, talega. Bayong, supot. Bag, v. [bag] Entalegar. Magsilid sa bayong ó sa supot. Baggage, n. [báguedch] Bagaje, equipaje. Ang daladalahan sa paglalakbay. Bagging, n. [bágging] Tela basta. Káyong magaspang. Bagpipe, n. [bágpaip] Gaita. Instrumento ng músika. Bail, n. [bæl] Fianza; fiador. Sanglâ, sagot, akò, lagak; ang nanánagót. Bail, v. [bæl] Caucionar, fiar. Managot, umakò. Bailee, n. [belí] El que está libre bajo fianza. Ang nakalalayà sa pamamagitan ng lagak. Bailiff, n. [bélif] Alguacil, mayordomo. Agusil, katiwala, mayordomo. Bait, n. [bet] Cebo. Pain. Bait, v. [bet] Cebar. Magpain. Bake, v. [beík] Cocer en horno. Magtinapay, magbibingka. Baker, n. [béker] Panadero. Magtitinapáy. Bakery, n. [békeri] Panadería. Panaderya, gáwaan ng tinapay. Balance, n. [bálans] Balanza; balance. Timbangan; balanse, pagtutuus. Balance, v. [bálans] Pesar en balanza; balancear, saldar. Tumimbang; magbalanse, tumuus. Balcony, n. [bálconi] Balcon. Balkon, sibi. Bald, n. [bold] Calvo. Kalbó. Baldhead, n. [bóldjed] Calvo. Taong kalbó, walang buhok. Baldness, n. [bóldnes] Calvez. Kakalbuhán, pagkakalbó. Bale, n. [bæl] Bala ó fardo de mercaderías; calamidad, miseria. Talì, bigkis; sakunâ, karalitaan. Bale, v. [bæl] Empalar, empaquetar. Magtalì, magbigkis. Baleful, adj. [bélful] Triste, funesto. Mahirap, mapanglaw, salat. Balk, n. [bolk] Viga; contratiempo, agravio, perjuicio. Sikang; abala, bagabag; kaapihan. Balk, v. [bolk] Frustrar, faltar á la palabra. Máurong, magkulang sa pananalitâ. Ball, n. [bol] Bola, pelota; bala; baile. Bola, anomang mabilog; punglô, bala; sáyawan, bayle. Ballad, n. [bálad] Balada, cancion. Kantá, awit. Ballast, n. [bálast] Lastre. Pangpabigat na inilalagay sa sasakyan. Ballast, v. [bálast] Lastrar. Maglagay ng pangpabigat. Balloon, n. [balún] Globo. Globo. Ballot, n. [bálæt] Balota. Balota, boto, anomang pinagtatalaan ng pangalan na pinakaboto sa paghahalalan. Ballot, v. [bálæt] Votar con balotas. Bumoto sa pamamagitan ng balota. Balm, n. [bam] Bálsamo. Bálsamo, pabangó. Balm, v. [bam] Embalsamar. Pabanguhán. Balmy, adj. [bálmi] Balsámico. Ukol sa bálsamo, mabangó. Balsam, n. [bálsam] Bálsamo. Bálsamo, pabango. Baluster, n. [bálæster] Balaustre. Barandilyas, gabay. Balustrade, n. [balæstréd] Balaustrada. Gabay. Bamboo, n. [bambú] Bamboa. Kawayan, buhò, búkawe, tambô. Bamboozle, v. [bambúzl] Engañar. Magdayà, humibò. Bambuzler, n. [bambúzler] Engañador. Magdarayà. Ban, n. [ban] Bando, anuncio; excomunion; proclama. Pahayag, tawag; sumpâ. Ban, v. [ban] Excomulgar, maldecir. Manumpâ, manungayaw. Banana, n. [banána] Plátano. Saging. Band, n. [band] Venda, tira ó faja; union; cuadrilla, banda. Talì, bahag, pamigkis; pulutong, banda ng músika. Band, v. [band] Vendar, unir; juntar. Magbigkis, magtalì; pagsamahin. Bandage, n. [bándedch] Venda, tira ó faja; vendaje. Bigkis na panapal ó panali sa anoman. Bandage, v. [bándedch] Vendar, fajar. Magbigkis, magtalì, magtapal, magpiring. Bandanna, n. [bandána] Bandanas. Pangyong mapulá. Bandbox, n. [bándbocs] Cajita ó cofrecito de carton. Kahong karton, sisidlang karton. Bandit, n. [bándit] Bandido ó salteador de caminos. Tulisan, manghaharang. Bandy, n. [bándi] Palocorvo. Pamaló ng bola. Bandy, v. [bándi] Pelotear, discutir, ligarse. Maghagisan ng bola, maglapìlapì. Bandylegged, adj. [bándilegd] Patizambo. Mabilog ang bintî. Bane, n. [ben] Veneno, tosigo. Lason, kamandag. Bane, v. [ben] Envenenar. Lumason. Baneful, adj. [bénful] Venenoso, mortal, mortífero. Nakakalason, nakamamatay. Bang, v. [bang] Puñada, golpe. Suntok, bugbog, paspas. Bang, n. [bang] Dar puñadas, sacudir. Sumuntok, bumugbog, pumaspas. Bangle, n. [bangl] Bracelete delgado. Pulsera, kalombigas. Banish, v. [bánish] Desterrar, expeler fuera. Itapon, idestiero. Banishment, n. [bánishment] Destierro. Pagkatapon sa ibang lupà, destiero. Banister, n. [bánister] Balaustre. Gabay, barandilya. Banjo, n. [bándcho] Banduria. Bandurya. Bank, n. [banc] Orilla, rivera; banco. Pangpang, baybayin, tabí ng ilog ó dagat; bángko. Bank, v. [banc] Aislar ó detener el agua con diques, poner dinero en un banco. Magpilapil; maglagák ng salapî sa bangko. Bankbill, n. [bancbil] Billete de banco. Papel de bangko. Banker, n. [bánker] Banquero, cambista. Ang may arì ng bangko mámamalit ng salapî. Banknote, n. [báncnot] Billete de banco. Papel de bángko. Bankrupt, adj. [báncræpt] Insolvente, quebrado, fallido. Lugí, hindî makabayad, walang ikabayad. Bankrupt, v. [báncræpt] Quebrar, declararse insolvente. Malugi, mawalan ng salapî ang bangko, magpahayag ang bangko na walâ nang salapî. Bankruptcy, n. [báncræptsi] Bancarota. Pagkabagsak ng kalagayan ng bángko. Banner, n. [bánær] Bandera, estandarte. Watawat, bandilà, bandera. Banquet, n. [báncuet] Banquete, festin. Pigíng, ányayahan, handáan, káinan. Banquet, v. [báncuet] Banquetear. Magpigíng, maghandâ, magkainan. Bantam, n. [bántam] Bantama. Manok sa Java. Banter, v. [bánter] Lumbar, divertirse á costa de alguno. Magbirô, manukso. Banter, n. [bánter] Lumba, burla, chasco. Birò, tuksó. Banterer, n. [bántærær] Lumbon, burlon. Mánunukso, palabirô. Bantling, n. [bántling] Chicuelo ó chicuela. Batang muntî. Baptism, n. [báptism] Bautismo. Binyag, pagbibinyag. Baptismal, adj. [báptismal] Bautismal. Nauukol sa binyag. Baptist, n. [báptist] El que administra el bautismo. Ang nagbibinyag. Baptistery, n. [báptistæri] Bautisterio. Dakong pinagbibinyagan. Baptize, v. [baptáis] Bautizar. Magbinyag, magbigay ng pangalan. Bar, n. [bar] Barra, tranca, obstáculo; estrados. Halang, hadlang, sanggá; kapisanan ng mga abogado. Bar, v. [bar] Cerrar con barras, impedir, prohibir. Magtrangká, mághadlang. Barb, n. [barb] Barba; lengüeta de saeta ó flecha. Babà; balbás; pangalawit na nasa pwitan ng sibat ó tagâ. Barbarian, n. [barbárian] Hombre bárbaro; cruel. Taong tampalasan, mabaksik. Barbaric, adj. [bárbaric] Bárbaro. Tampalasan, mabaksik. Barbarity, n. [barbáriti] Barbaridad. Katampalasanan, kabaksikan. Barbarous, adj. [bárbaræs] Bárbaro, salvaje. Tampalasan, salbahe. Barber, n. [bárber] Barbero. Manggugupit ng buhok, mang-aahit, barbero. Bard, n. [bard] Poeta, bardo. Mánunulâ. Bare, adj. [bær] Desnudo, descubierto. Hubad, hubô; walang takip. Bare, v. [bær] Desnudar, descubrir. Maghubad, maghubò; mag-alis ng takip. Barefaced, adj. [bérfesd] Descarado, insolente. Walanghiyá, walang bait. Barefoot, adj. [bérfut] Descalzo. Walang suot ang paa. Barely, adv. [bérli] Meramente, simplemente; pobremente. May pagkahubad, nakagayon lamang, káwawà. Bargain, n. [bárguen] Ajuste, convenio; compra ó venta. Pinagkayarian, pinagkasunduan; pagbili ó pagbibilí. Bargain, v. [bárguen] Pactar, ajustar; negociar. Makipagkayarî. mangalakal. Barge, n. [bardch] Falua ó faluca. Kaskó. Baritone, n. [báriton] Baritono. Barítono, tinig na hindi nápakataas ni nápakababà. Bark, n. [barc] Corteza; ladra. Balat, upak, talukap; tahól, kahól. Bark, v. [barc] Descortezar; ladrar. Umupak, mag-alis ng balat ng kahoy; tumahol, kumahol. Bark, n. [barc] Barco, embarcacion. Barkó, sasakyang may layag. Barley, n. [bárli] Cebada. Sebada, pananim na gaya ng palay. Barm, n. [barm] Jiste, levadura. Lebadura. Barmy, adj. [bármi] Lo que tiene jiste ó levadura. May halong lebadura. Barn, n. [barn] Granero, pajar. Bangan, kamalig, kámaligan. Barnacle, n. [bárnecl] Barnicla. Susong kumakapit sa mga bato't sasakyan. Barometer, n. [barómeter] Barómetro. Barómetro, kasangkapang nadbabadya ng lagay ng panahon. Baron, n. [báron] Baron. Baron, isang marangal na pamagat. Barouche, n. [báruch] Carruage. Karwahe. Barrack, n. [bárac] Cuartel. Kwartel, táhanan ng mga kawal ó sundalo. Barrel, n. [bárel] Barril. Bariles. Barrel, v. [bárel] Embarilar. Magsilid sa bariles. Barren, adj. [báren] Esteril; infructuoso. Baog; basal; walang bunga. Barricade, n. [barikéd] Barrera, estacada. Munting kutà. Barricade, v. [barikéd] Cerrar con barreras, atrincherar. Magkutà, maglagay ng kutà. Barrier, n. [báriær] Barrera; obstáculo. Halang, hadlang; kutà. Barrister, n. [bárister] Abogado. Abogado. Bar-room, n. [bár-rum] Taberna. Tindahan ng alak. Barrow, n. [báro] Angarillas; puerco. Munting kariton na iisa ang gulong at karaniwang ipinanghahakot ng bato't buhangin; baboy. Barter, n. [bárter] Tráfico. Pangangalakal. Barter, v. [bárter] Traficar; cambiar, trocar. Mangalakal; magpalit. Basalt, n. [basólt] Basalto. Batong matigas. Base, adj. [bæs] Bajo, humilde, despreciable, vil. Hamak, mababà, mahalay. Base, n. [bæs] Fondo, basa, pedestal. Patungán, paa, póndo, tuntungan. Base, v. [bæs] Apoyar, envilecer. Ipatong sa patungan; humamak. Baseball, n. [bésbol] Besbol (un juego de bola). Besbol. Baseless, n. [bésles] Sin fondo, desfondado. Walang pondo ó walang mátungtungan. Basement, n. [bésment] Basamento. Silong. Baseness, n. [bésnes] Bajeza, vileza. Kahamakan, kahalayan. Bashaw, n. [basió] Bajá. Maginoo sa Turkya. Bashful, adj. [báshful] Vergonzoso, tímido, encogido. Mahihiyain, matatakutín, mahinhin. Bashfully, adv. [báshfuli] Vergonzosamente. May pagkamahiyain. Bashfulness, n. [báshfulnes] Vergüenza, modestia. Kahihiyan, kahinhinan. Basin, n. [bésn] Jofaina. Palanggana, hílamusan. Basis, n. [bésis] Basa, pedestal; base, fundamento. Tungtungan, kinatatayuan; pinagmumulan, pinagbubuhatan. Bask, v. [bask] Asolear, ponerse á tomar el sol. Magbilad, ibilad. Basket, n. [básket] Cesta, canasta. Buslô, bilao, bakol, kaíng, batuláng. Bass, adj. [bas] Bajo, grave. Mababang tingig sa tugtugin ó awit. Bass, n. [bas] Lobina. Lobina, isang isdâ. Bastard, n. [bástard] Bastardo, espurio. Bastardo, anák sa ibá ng may-asawa. Baste, v. [best] Apalear; pringar ó untar la carne en el asador. Humampas ó bumugbog sa pamamagitan ng isang tungkod; mag-ihaw ng lamang kati. Basting, n. [bésting] Hilván; apaleamiento. Hilbana; hampas, bugbog. Bat, n. [bat] Garrote ó cachiporra. Panghanmpas ng bola sa larong besbol. Bat, n. [bat] Murciélago. Pánikì, kabagkabag, báyakan. Batch, n. [batch] Cochura, hornada. Masa ng tinapay. Bath, n. [baz] Baño. Páliguan. Bathe, v. [bez] Bañar, bañarse. Maligò, magpaligò. Bathing, n. [bézing] Baño. Paliligò. Bathing-tub, n. [bézing-tæb] Baño. Páliguan. Battalion, n. [batáliæn] Batallon. Isang pulutong ng mga kawal. Batten, n. [bátn] Astilla. Tatal. Batten, v. [bátn] Cebar, reparar, engordar. Magpatabâ, yumaman. Batter, n. [báter] El que apalea, apaleador. Ang humahampas. Batter, v. [báter] Apalear, golpear. Humampas, bumugbog humagupit, mamalò. Battery, n. [báteri] Batería. Bateryá, kutang may kanyon; isang pulutong na sundalong may kanyon. Battle, n. [bátl] Batalla. Labanán, digmà, pamook, pagbabaka. Battle, v. [bátl] Batallar, combatir. Lumaban, dumigmà, makipamook, makipagbaka. Battle-array, n. [batl-aré] Orden de batalla. Ayos ng labanán. Battle-axe, n. [bátl-acs] Hacha de armas. Palakol na panglaban. Bauble, n. [bóbl] Chuchería. Bagay na walang halaga. Bawl, v. [bol] Gritar, vocear. Sumigaw, humiyaw. Bawl, n. [bol] Grito. Sigaw, hiyaw. Bay, adj. [bei] Bayo. Kulay bayo, ó kuyomangging mapulápulá. Bay, n. [bei] Bahía, rada, puerto abierto en el mar; brazo de mar. Look, dagatdagatan kaugpong ng dagat. Bay, v. [bei] Ladrar, balar. Tumahol, kumahol. Bayonet, n. [béonet] Bayoneta. Bayoneta. Bayonet, v. [béonet] Traspasar con la bayoneta. Manaksak ng bayoneta. Bazaar, n. [bazár] Bazar. Basar, almasen ng sarisari. Be, v. [bí] Ser ó estar; tener algun estado ó calidad. Magíng, ay, mag, magka... sumá... Beach, n. [bich] Costa, ribera, orilla. Baybay-dagat. Beach, v. [bich] Encallar. Isadsad sa baybay. Beacon, n. [bícn] Faro, fanal. Isang tandang ilaw na pinagkakakilanlan ng paglapit ng kaaway; sigang palatandaan. Bead, n. [bid] Cuenta, rosario; abalorios. Kwintas, abaloryo. Beadle, n. [bídl] Alguacil. Agusil. Beagle, n. [bígl] Sabueso. Munting aso na ginagamit sa pangangaso. Beak, n. [bic] Pico. Tukâ. Beam, n. [bim] Viga maestra de un edificio; brazos de balanza; rayo de luz. Kilo, anamán; pingga; liwanag. Beam, v. [bim] Emitir ó arrojar rayos. Kumislap, kumisap numingning. Bean, n. [bin] Haba. Sitaw, patani. Bear, n. [bir] Oso. Oso, (isang hayop na apat ang paa). Bear, v. [bir] Llevar alguna cosa como carga; sufrir (algun dolor); sostener, soportar; producir, parir.. Magdalá; magtiis, magbatá; umalalay; mamunga; manganak. Bearable, adj. [bírabl] Sufrible. Makababatá, makatitiis. Beard, n. [bird] Barba; arista de espiga. Balbas; bulo ng uhay. Beard, v. [bird] Desbarbar. Baltakín ang balbás. Bearded, adj. [bírded] Barbado. Mabalbas. Beardless, adj. [bírdles] Desbarbado, imberbe. Walang balbás. Bearer, n. [bírer] Portador. Ang may dala ng isang pasugò ó padalá. Bear-fly, n. [bár-flay] Moscarda de oso. Bangaw. Bearing, n. [báring] Situacion, modo de portarse en lo exterior. Kalagayan, kilos, asal, ugalì. Beast, n. [bist] Bestia. Hayop na apat ang paa. Beastly, adj. [bístli] Bestial, brutal. Parang hayop, parang ganid, may pagkahayop. Beat, n. [bit] Golpe. Bugbog. Beat, v. [bit] Apalear, golpear. Humampas, bumugbog. Beaten, adj. and part. [bitn] Trillado, pisado. Pinukpok, dinikdik. Beating, n. [bíting] Paliza, correccion; pulsacion. Hampas, hagupit; tibok, kutog. Beatitude, n. [biátitiud] Beatitud, felicidad. Kaginghawahan. Beauteous, adj. [biútiues] Bello, hermoso. Maganda, marikit. Beautiful, adj. [biútiful] Hermoso, bello. Maganda, marikit. Beautifully, adj. [biútifuli] Hermosamente. May kagandahan. Beautify, v. [biútifay] Hermosear, adornar. Magpagandá, magparikít; maggayak. Beauty, n. [biúti] Hermosura, belleza. Gandá, kagandahan, dikít, kariktan. Becalm, v. [bicám] Serenar, calmar, sosegar. Lumubay, tumahimik, humimpil, mápayapà. Because, conj. [bicós] Porque. Sapagka't; dahil sa. Bechance, v. [bicháns] Acaecer, suceder. Magkátaon, mangyari. Becharm, v. [bichárm] Encantar, cautivar. Halinahin, ganyakin ang kalooban. Beck, v. [bec] Hacer seña con la cabeza. Tangûan, batiin. Beck, n. [bec] Seña, indicacion muda. Tangô, batì. Beck, n. [bec] Riachuelo. Sapà. Beckon, v. [becn] Hacer seña con la cabeza ó la mano. Senyasan, sumenyas. Become, v. [bikám] Convenir; convertirse, venir á parar. Mábagay, maging ,máuwî. Becoming, adj. [bikáming] Decente, conveniente.. Mahusay, bagay, akmâ. Becomingly, adv. [bikámingli] Decentemente, convenientemente. May kahusayan, may pagkabagay, may pagkakaakmâ. Bed, n. [bed] Cama, lecho. Hígaan, tulugán, katre, papag; pitak. Bed, v. [bed] Meter en la cama, acostar. Ihigâ. Bed-chamber, n. [béd-chamber] Dormitorio. Silid na tulugán. Bed-clothes, n. [bed-cloz] Coberturas de cama. Mga damít sa hígaan. Bedding, n. [béding] Ajuar ó ropa de cama. Mga sangkap ó damít sa hígaan. Bedew, v. [bidiú] Rociar, regar. Magwisik, magdilig. Bedfellow, n. [bedfeló] Compañero ó compañera de cama. Kasipíng sa hígaan. Bedim, v. [bidím] Oscurecer, ofuscar, deslumbrar. Kumulimlim, lumabò. Bedlam, n. [bédlam] Casa de locos; loco, lunático. Bahay na pinagkukulungan sa mga ulol; ulol, bubwanin. Bedlamite, n [bádlamait] Loco. Ulol. Beddridden, n. [bedréden] Postrado en cama. Hindî makabangon sa hígaan. Bed-room, n. [béd-rum] Cuarto dormitorio. Silid na tulugán. Bedtime, n. [bédtaim] Hora de irse á la cama. Oras ng pagtulog. Bee, n. [bií] Abeja. Pukyutan, kamumo, putaktí. Beech, n. [bich] Haya. Isang punong kahoy. Beef, n. [bif] La carne de la vaca ó del buey despues de muertos. Ang karné ó lamán ng baka ó kalabaw. Beef-steak, n. [bíf-stic] Lonja de carne de vaca. Hiwang manipis ng laman ng baka ó kalabaw. Bee-hive, n. [bí-jaiv] Colmena. Bahay-pukyutan. Bee-line, n. [bi-láin] Linea recta. Guhit na matwid. Beer, n. [bir] Cerveza. Serbesa. Beeswax, n. [bisuacs] Cera. Pagkít. Beet, n. [bit] Acelga. Isang gugulayin. Beetle, n. [bítl] Escarabajo, pison, maza. Isang uri ng hayop; tilad na kahoy. Befall, v. [bifól] Suceder, acontecer. Mangyari. Befit, v. [bifít] Venir bien, convenir. Mábagay, máakmâ. Before, adv. y prep. [bifór] Mas adelante, en frente; ante, en presencia de; antes, antes de. Sa unahan; sa tapat; sa harap; bago. Beforehand, adv. [bifórjend] De antemano, anticipadamente. Kapagkaraka, bago mangyari, páuna. Beforetime, adv. [bifortáim] En tiempo pasado. Mga panahong nagdaan. Befoul, v. [bifául] Ensuciar, emporcar. Dumumí, magdumí. Befriend, v. [bifrénd] Favorecer, patrocinar, proteger. Lumingap, umandukhâ, kumandilì, tumingin. Beg, v. [beg] Mendigar, pordiosear, suplicar. Magpalimos; humingî, sumamò, mamanhik. Beget, v. [biguét] Engendrar; producir, causar. Manganák; magkaroon, magtamó, mamunga. Beggar, n. [béguær] Mendigo, suplicante. Pulubi, taong nagpapalimos. Beggar, v. [béguær] Empobrecer, arruinar. Magpahirap. Beggarly, adj [béguærli] Pobre, miserable. Marálitâ, parang pulubi. Begin, v. [biguín] Comenzar, empezar. Magpasimulâ, magsimulâ. Beginner, n. [biguíner] Principiante, novicio; rudimentos. Baguhan; pinagmulan, pinanggalingan. Beginning, n. [biguíning] Principio ó causa. Pasimulâ. Begone, int. [bigón] Fuera! apartate de allí!. Sulong!, alis diyan! Beguile, v. [bigáil] Engañar, seducir. Mangdayá, manghibò. Beguiler, n. [bigáiler] Engañador, impostor. Magdarayà, mapanghibò. Behalf, n. [bijáf] Favor, patrocinio, beneficio. Kandilì; pakinabang. Behave, v. [bijév] Proceder, conducirse. Mag-ugalì, magpalagay mag-asal. Behavior, n. [bijévior] Proceder, conducta. Ugalì, asal; palagay. Behead, v. [bijéd] Degollar, decapitar. Pumugot ng ulo. Behind, prep. [bijáind] Detras, tras. Sa likurán, sa hulihan. Behindhand, adv. [bijáindjend] Atrasadamente. Hulí. Behold, v. [bijóld] Ver, mirar, contemplar. Tumingin, magmalas, magmasid, manood. Behold, int. [bijóld] Hé!, hé aquí!. Nárito!, tignan mo!, nákita mo na! Beholden, adj. [bijóldn] Deudor. Nagkakautang. Behoof, n. [bijúf] Provecho, utilidad. Pakinabang. Behoof, v. [bijúf] Convenir, importar. Máukol, mákailangan. Being, conj. [bíing] Ya que, puesto que, supuesto. Yamang, sa paraang. Being, n. [bíing] Existencia, estado ó condicion particular; ente, ser. Buhay, lagay, tao. Belabor, v. [bilébær] Apalear, cascar. Hampasin, bugbugin. Belate, v. [biléit] Tardar. Magtagal, maglwat. Belay, v. [biléi] Bloquear. Kumubkob. Belch, n. [belch] Regüeldo, eructacion. Dighay, dinghal. Belch, v. [belch] Regoldar; vomitar. Dumighay; sumuka. Beleaguer, v. [bilíguer] Sitiar, bloquear. Kumubkob, kumulong. Belfry, n. [bélfri] Campanario. Bátingawan, kampanaryo. Belie, v. [bilái] Contrahacer, desmentir; calumniar. Sumalangsang; pabulaanan, pasinungalingan; magparatang. Belief, n. [bilíf] Creencia, credo; fe. Paniwalà, kapaniwalaan, akalà; pananalig, pananampalataya. Believe, v. [bilív] Creer, pensar. Maniwalà, umakalà. Believable, adj. [bilívabl] Creible, lo que se puede creer. Mapaníniwalaan. Believer, n. [bilíver] Creyente, fiel. May pananalig, may pananampalataya; tapat. Bell, n. [bel] Campana. Batingaw, kampanà. Belle, n. [bel] La Venus de una ciudad. Dalagang magandá. Bellicose, adj. [bélicos] Belicoso. Mangdidigmà, mapagbasag-ulo. Belligerent, adj. [belídcherent] Beligerante. Ukol sa pakikidigmà. Belligerent, n. [belídcherent] Beligerante. Ang nasa pakikidigmà. Bellow, n. [bélo] Rugido, bramido. Sigaw na malakas; angal. Bellow, v. [bélo] Vociferar, bramar. Sumigaw ng malakas; umangal. Bellows, n. [bélos] Fuelle. Hungkoy, hihip, balulusan. Belly, n. [béli] Vientre. Tiyan. Belly-ache, n. [béliec] Cólica. Sakít ng tiyan. Bellyband, n. [béliband] Cincha, ventrera. Pamigkis ng tiyan. Bellyworm, n. [béliwerm] Lombriz del vientre. Bulati sa loob ng tiyan. Belong, v. [bilóng] Pertenecer. Máukol, másangkap. Beloved, adj. [biláved] Querido, amado. Giliw, irog, minamahal. Below, prep. [biló] Debajo, abajo. Sa ibabâ. Belt, n. [belt] Cinturon. Pamigkis, sinturón. Bemad, v. [bimád] Enloquecer. Maulól. Bemoan, v. [bimón] Lamentar, deplorar. Dumaing, humibik. Bemock, v. [bimóc] Mofarse. Manuyâ. Bench, n. [bench] Banco, asiento. Bangkô, likmuan. Bend, n. [bend] Comba; encorvadura. Hubog, yupì, baluktot, pagkahutok. Bend, v. [bend] Encorvar; doblar. Humubog, yumupì, bumaluktot, humutok. Bending, n. [bénding] Pliegue, doblez. Pileges, kunót, kulubot. Beneath, adv. y prep. [biníz] Debajo; abajo. Sa ilalim; sa ibabà. Benediction, n. [benedíccien] Bendicion. Basbás, bendisyon, palà, pagpapalà. Benefaction, n. [benefáccion] Beneficio; gracia. Kabutihang gawâ; pakinabang; biyaya. Benefactor, n. [benefáctor] Bienhechor. Mapaggawâ ng mabuti sa kapwà. Benefactress, n. [benefáctres] Bienhechora. Babaing mapaggawâ ng mabuti sa kapwa-tao. Beneficence, n. [benéfisens] Beneficencia. Kagandahang loob. Beneficent, adj. [benéfisent] Benéfico. Magandang loob. Beneficial, adj. [benefícial] Beneficioso, provechoso. Nápapakinabangan. Beneficiary, n. [benefícieri] Beneficiado. Ang pinag-uukulan ng pakinabang. Benefit, n. [bénefit] Beneficio, utilidad, provecho; bondad. Pakinakang, kapakinabangán, tubò, kagalingan. Benefit, v. [bénefit] Beneficiar, hacer bien. Mápakinabangan, gumawà ng kagalingan. Benevolence, n. [benévolens] Benevolencia. Kagandahang-loob, kabutihang asal. Benevolent, adj. [benévolent] Benévolo; dulce, clemente. Magandang-loob, mabuting asal. Benight, v. [bináit] Cogerle á uno la noche; oscurecer. Gabihín, abutin ng gabí; gumabí, dumilim. Benign, adj. [bináin] Benigno, afable, generoso. Maamong-loob, maawain; mahabagin. Benignant, adj. [benígnant] Bondadoso. Magandang loob. Benignity, n. [benígniti] Benignidad, bondad. Kagandahang-loob. Bent, adj. [bent] Encorvado, tendido. Baluktot; yupî, hutók. Benumb, v. [biném] Entorpecer. Mamanhid. Bepinch, v. [bipínch] Pellizcar. Mangurot; kurutín. Bequeath, v. [bicuíz] Legar alguna cosa á otro en testamento. Magpamana. Bequest, n. [bicuést] Legado que alguno deja á otro en testamento. Pamana. Bereave, v. [birív] Despojar, arrebatar. Sumamsam, umagaw. Bereavement, n. [birívment] Privacion, despojo. Pagsamsam, pag-agaw. Berry, n. [bér-ri] Baya. Rátiles, baya. Berth, n. [berz] Alojamiento de un navío. Hígaan ó tulugán sa sasakyan. Beryl, n. [béril] Berilo. Berilo (batong mahalaga). Beseech, v. [bisích] Suplicar, rogar. Mamanhik, sumamò, makiusap. Beseem, v. [bisím] Convenir, parecer bien. Magíng bagay, magalingin. Beset, v. [bisét] Sitiar, rodear, cercar. Kumubkob, kumulong, bumakod. Beside, prep. y adj. [bisáid] Cerca, al lado de; excepto. Sa siping, sa tabí, sa piling; liban, bukod sa.... Besiege, v. [bisídch] Sitiar, bloquear. Kumubkob, kumulong. Besmear, v. [bismír] Salpicar, ensuciar. Pilansikan, talsikan; dumihán. Besmoke, v. [bismóc] Ahumar. Magsuub; suubín. Besot, v. [bisót] Infatuar, entontecer. Langûin, hangalin. Bespatter, v. [bispátær] Salpicar; disfamar. Pilansikan; manirang puri. Bespeak, v. [bispíc] Encomendar, ordenar. Magtagubilin, magbilin. Best, adj. [best] Superior, lo mejor. Pinakamabuti, kábutibutihan. Bestir, v. [bistér] Mover, incitar. Kilusin, ibuyó, udyukan. Bestow, v. [bistó] Dar, otorgar, conferir. Magbigay, magkaloob. Bestrew, v. [bistriú] Rociar, esparcir. Isabog, ikalat. Bet, v. [bet] Apostar. Pumusta, tumayâ. Bet, n. [bet] Apuesta. Pustá, tayâ. Betake, v. [bitéc] Tomar, agarrar. Sumunggab, humawak, tumangan. Bethink, v. [bizínc] Recapacitar. Magdilidilì, magmunimunì. Betime, bitimes, adv. [bitáim, bitáims] Con tiempo, en sazon. Sa kapanahunan, sa kasalukuyan. Betoken, v. [bitókn] Significar, anunciar. Ipahiwatig, ibalità ipaalam. Betray, v. [bitréi] Traicionar. Magtaksil, maglilo. Betrayal, n. [bitráyal] Traicion. Kataksilan, paglililo. Betroth, v. [bitróz] Desposar. Magkasal. Betrothal, n. [bitrózal] Esponsales. Kasál, pag-aasawa. Betrothment, n. [bitrózment] Esponsales. Kasál, pag-aasawa. Better, adj. [bétær] Mejor. Lalong mabuti, lalong maigi, lalong magaling, lalong mainam. Better, v. [bétær] Mejorar. Bumuti, gumaling, umigi, uminam. Betting, n. [béting] Apuesta. Pustahan. Bettor, n. [bétor] Apostador. Mámumusta. Between, prep. [bitwín] Entre, en medio de una y otra cosa. Sa pag-itan, sa gitna. Betwixt, prep. [bituícs] Entre. Sa pagitan. Bevel, n. [bével] Cartabon. Panukat, kartabón. Beverage, n. [béveredch] Bebida. Iinúmin. Bevy, n. [bévi] Bandada, (de aves). Kawan, kában. Bewail, v. [biuél] Lamentar. Tumangis, tumaghoy. Beware, v. [biuér] Guardarse, precaverse de algun riesgo. Mag-ingat. Bewilder, v. [biuílder] Descaminar, descarriar. Máligaw, malisyâ. Bewilderment, n. [biuílderment] Extravío. Pagkaligaw. Bewitch, v. [biuítch] Encantar, maleficar. Sumilaw, umenkanto, mangkulam, manggaway. Bewitcher, n. [biuítcher] Encantador, hechicero. Mangkukulam, manggagaway. Bewitchery, n. [biuítcheri] Encantamiento, hechizo. Pangkukulam, panggagaway. Beyond, prep. [biyónd] Mas allá, allende. Sa dako pa roon. Bias, adv. [báias] Al sesgo. Pahaláng. Bib, n. [bib] Babador; delantal. Salalay; sapíng pang-ibabaw ng damít ng batà. Bible, n. [báibl] Biblia. Biblia, banal na kasulatan ng mga kristiano. Biblical, adj. [bíblical] Bíblico. Ukol sa Biblia. Bibliography, n. [bibliógrefi] Bibliografía. Ang karunungan tungkol sa mga aklat. Bibliothecary, n. [bibliózikeri] Bibliotecario. Katiwalà ng aklatan. Bibulous, adj. [bíbiulæs] Poroso, esponjoso. Halaghag, buhaghag. Bicker, v. [bíkær] Escaramucear, reñir. Makihamok, makiaway. Bicycle, n. [báycikl] Bicicleta. Bisikletas. Bid, n. [bid] El precio ó valor que se ofrece en una venta; la puja ó valor que se ofrece sobre otra puja. Turing; tawad. Bid, v. [bid] Pedir; mandar, ordenar; convidar; despedirse. Humingî; mag-utos; mag-anyaya; magpaalam. Bidder, n. [bíder] El postor. Ang tagatawad; tagaturing. Bidding, n. [bíding] Orden, mandato; postura. Bilin, utos; tawad, turing. Bide, v. [baid] Sufrir, aguantar; residir. Magtiis, magbatá; tumira, tumahan. Biennial, adj. [baiénnial] Bienal. Daládalawang taón; nangyayari sa twing dalawang taón. Bier, n. [bir] Andas, féretro. Kalandra, andás; patungan ng kabaong. Bifold, adj. [báifold] Doble. Doble, ibayo. Big, adj. [big] Grande. Malaki. Bigamist, n. [bígamist] Bigamo. Ang taong may dalawang asawa. Bigamy, n. [bígami] Bigamia. Ang pag-aasawa sa dalawa. Biggin, n. [bíguin] Capillo de niño. Gorra ng batà. Bight, n. [báit] Bahía. Look. Bigness, n. [bígnes] Grandeza. Kalakhan. Bigot, n. [bígot] Fanático; hipócrita. Panátiko, taong mapaghakà at mapaggiit ng sarili niyang pananalig; mapagpakitang tao. Bigoted, adj. [bígoted] Ciegamente preocupado á favor de alguna cosa. Ang walang minamatwid kungdî ang sarili niyang pag-iisip at pananalig. Bigotry, n. [bígotri] Fanatismo, hipocresía. Pagkapanátiko; pagpapakunwâ. Bile, n. [báil] Bilis; cólera; divieso. Bilis; galit; pigsá. Bilge, n. [bíldch] Pantoque. Pinaka-tiyan ng sasakyang-tubig. Biliary, adj. [bílieri] Biliario. Ukol sa bilis. Bilinguous, adj. [bailíngües] Bilingüe. Dalawang wikà. Bilious, adj. [bíliuæs] Bilioso. Mabílis. Bill, n. [bil] Pico de ave; papel, billete; cédula; cuenta; propuesta de ley; receta de médico. Tukâ; papel, bilyete, cédula ó katibayan, talaan ng utang; palagay na kautusan; reseta ó hatol. Billet, n. [bílet] Billete. Bilyete. Billet, v. [bílet] Alojar ó aposentar soldados. Magpatuloy ng mga sundalo ó kawal. Billard-ball, n. [bíllard-bol] Bola de billar. Bola ng bilyar. Billards, n. [bí-liards] Billar. Bilyar (larô). Billard-table, n. [bí-liard-tebl] Mesa de billar. Mesa ng bilyar. Billion, adj. [bíliæn] Millon de millones. Isang angaw na angaw. Billow, n. [bílo] Oleada, ola grande. Malaking alon. Bin, n. [bin] Arteson, cofre; armario, despensa. Taguan ó sisidlán. Binary, adj. [báineri] Binario, doble. Nakahalò sa dalawa. Bind, v. [báind] Atar, unir; encuadernar. Magtalì, mag-ugpong; magpasta ó magbalat ng aklat. Binder, n. [báinder] Encuadernador. Tagapagpasta, tagapagbalat ng aklat ó kwaderno. Binding, n. [báinding] Encuadernacion; venda, tira, faja. Pagpapasta, pagkápasta; talì. Biographer, n. [boiógrafer] Biógrafo. Ang sumusulat ng kasaysayan ng kabuhayan ng isang tao. Biographical, adj. [baiográfical] Biográfico. Ukol sa pagsulat ng kasaysayan ng kabuhayan ng isang tao. Biography, n. [boiógrafi] Biografía. Pagsulat ng kasaysayan ng kabuhayan ng isang tao. Biped, n. [baíped] Bípede. Ang dádalawa ang paa; ang tao. Bird, n. [bærd] Pájaro. Ibón. Bird, v. [bærd] Cazar ó coger pájaros. Manumpit ó manghuli ng ibon. Birdsnest, n. [bérdsnest] Nido de ave. Pugad ng ibon. Birth, n. [berz] Nacimiento. Panganganak, pagkapanganak, kapanganakan; pagsilang. Birthday, n. [bérzdey] Cumpleaños. Kaarawan ng kapanganakan. Birthplace, n. [bérzpleis] Suelo nativo. Dakong kinapanganakan; bayang sarili. Birthright, n. [bézrait] Derecho de nacimiento. Katwirang buhat sa kapanganakan. Biscuit, n. [bískit] Galleta ó bizcocho. Biskwít. Bisect, v. [baiséct] Dividir en dos partes. Hatiin, biyakín, dalawahín. Bisection, n. [baiséccion] Biseccion. Paghahati, pagbibiyak, pagdalawa. Bishop, n. [bisióp] Obispo. Obispo. Bishopric, n. [bisiópric] Obispado. Sakop ng obispo. Bison, n. [báison] Bisonte. Bisonte (isang hayop). Bit, n. [bit] Bocado, pedacito; bocado del freno. Subò, kapyangot; singkaw sa bibig. Bit, v. [bit] Enfrenar. Magsingkaw. Bitch, n. [bitch] Perra. Asong babae. Bite, n. [báit] Mordedura. Kagat. Bite, v. [báit] Morder; punzar, picar. Mangagat, kumagat; manukâ, mamupog. Bitter, adj. [bíter] Amargo, áspero. Mapait, masaklap. Bitterness, n. [bíternes] Amargura. Pait, saklap, kapaitan, kasaklapan. Bitumen, n. [bítiumen] Betun. Bitún. Bivouac, n. [bívuac] Vivac ó vivaque. Bantay ó tanod ng isang hukbo. Blab, v. [blab] Parlar, revelar ó divulgar lo que se debía callar. Sumatsat, maghayag ng inililihim, maghatid-humapit. Blabber, n. [bláber] Chismoso. Mapaghatid-humapit. Blabbing, n. [blábing] Habladuría. Pananatsat, paghahatid-humapit. Black, adj. [blec] Negro. Maitim. Blackant, n. [blácant] Hormiga negra. Langgam na itim. Blackball, v. [blécbol] Excluir á uno votando con una bolita negra. Hwag tanggapin ang sinoman sa pamamagitan ng halalang ginamitan ng isang bolang itim. Blackbird, n. [bláckbærd] Mirlo ó merla. Martinez, ibong itim. Black-board, n. [blécbord] Pizarra. Pisarra. Blacken, v. [blacn] Teñir de negro, ennegrecer. Paitimin. Blackmoor, n. [blácmur] Negro, el etiope. Taong maitim, taga Etyopya. Blackguard, n. & adj. [blágard] Hombre soez, galopín. Taong hamak, walang hiyâ, alipustâ, alimura. Black-lead, n. [bláclid] Lapiz-plomo. Panulat sa pisarra. Blackleg, n. [blékleg] Bribón. Switik. Blackmail, n. [blécmeil] Tributo ó rescate que los viajeros pagan á los salteadores. Suhol sa mga tulisan ó manghaharang. Blackness, n. [blácnes] Negrura. Itím, kaitimán. Blacksmith, n. [blácsmiz] Herrero. Panday. Bladder, n. [bládær] Vejiga. Pantog. Blade, n. [bled] Brizna; hoja. Talím; dahon. Blain, n. [blen] Ampolla. Buhol. Blamable, adj. [blémabl] Culpable, vituperable. Salarín, alipustâ. Blame, n. [blem] Culpa, delito. Sala. Blame, v. [blem] Culpar. Bigyang sala. Blameless, adj. [blémless] Inocente. Walang sala. Blanch, v. [blanch] Blanquear; hacer pálido. Paputiin, paputlain. Bland, adj. [bland] Blando. Malambot. Blank, adj. [blanc] Blanco. Malinis, walang sulat. Blanket, n. [blánket] Manta. Kumot. Blanket, v. [blánket] Cubrir con manta. Magkumot. Blaspheme, v. [blasfím] Blasfemar. Manungayaw, manumpâ. Blasphemous, adj. [blásfimæs] Blasfemo. Palatungayaw, palasumpâ. Blasphemy, n. [blásfimi] Blasfemia. Tungayaw, sumpâ. Blast, n. [blast] Soplo de aire. Simoy ng hangin, hihip ng hangin. Blast, v. [blast] Castigar con alguna calamidad repentina; marchitar, secar, arruinar. Datnan ng kasakunaan; lumantá, tumuyô, sumirà, gumibâ. Blatant, adj. [blétant] Vocinglero. Palaangál. Blaze, n. [bleíz] Llama ó llamarada. Ningas, liyab, siklab. Blaze, v. [bleíz] Encenderse en llama. Magningas, magliyab. Bleach, v. [blich] Blanquear al sol. Magkulá. Bleak, adj. [blic] Palido; frio, helado. Maputlâ; malamig. Blear-eyed, n. [blír-aid] Lagañoso. Dírain. Bleat, n. [blit] Balido, la voz que forma la oveja y el cordero. Angal ó tingig ng tupa. Bleat, v. [blit] Balar. Umangal [ang tupa]. Bleed, v. [blid] Sangrar. Magpadugô. Bleeding, n. [blíding] Sangría. Pagpapadugô. Blemish, n. [blémish] Tacha; deshonra, infamia. Pintas, kapintasan; dungis, batik, kasiraangpuri. Blemish, v. [blémish] Manchar; denigrar, deshonrar. Dumungis, mamintas, manirang puri. Blench, n. [blench] Sobresalto, arranque. Gitlá, sindak. Blench, v. [blench] Obstar; asombrarse. Umurong, mágitla. Blend, v. [blend] Mezclar. Maghalò, maglahók. Bless, v. [bles] Bendecir, hacer feliz. Basbasan; pagpalain, paginghawahin. Blessed, adj. [blésd] Bendito, bienaventurado. Mapalad, maginghawa. Blessing, n. [blésing] Bendicion. Basbas; pagpapalà: bendisyon. Blest, adj. [blest] Alegre, feliz. Masaya, maginhawa. Blight, n. [bláit] Tizon, pulgon. Ang lanta ó tuyot. Blight, v. [bláit] Atizonar. Lantahin, sirain. Blind, adj. [bláind] Ciego. Bulag. Blind, v. [bláind] Cegar, quitar la vista. Bumulag; bulagin. Blindfold, adj. [bláindfold] El que tiene los ojos vendados. May piríng ang matá. Blindfold, v. [bláinfold] Vendar los ojos. Magpiríng; piringan ang matá. Blindness, n. [bláindnes] Ceguedad ó ceguera. Kabulagan, pagkabulag. Blink, n. [blinc] Ojeada; vislumbre. Kirap; kindat; pikít; kisap, kislap. Blink, v. [blinc] Cerrar los ojos, guiñar. Pumikít; kumirap, kumindat. Blinker, n. [blínker] Antojera. Panakip ng mata ng kabayo. Bliss, n. [blis] Felicidad. Kaginghawahan, kasayahan, sayá; lugod; kaluguran. Blissful, adj. [blísful] Bienaventurado, dichoso. Mapalad, maginhawa. Blister, n. [blístær] Ampolla. Lintós, pamamagâ. Blithe, adj. [bláiz] Alegre, contento. Masaya, twâ. Bloat, adj. [blot] Hinchado. Namámagâ. Bloat, v. [blot] Hinchar. Mamagâ. Bloater, n. [blóter] Arranque, ahumado. Isang urì ng isdang tinapá. Block, n. [bloc] Zoquete; horma de sombrero. Kalô; panghulma ng sombrero. Block, v. [bloc] Bloquear. Maghalang, kumulong. Blockade, n. [blokéd] Bloqueo. Pagkubkob; pagbakod; pagtalikop. Blockade, v. [blokéd] Bloquear. Kumubkob, kumulong, pagtalikupan. Blockhead, n. [blóckjed] Necio, tonto. Ungas, hangal, musmos, gunggong. Blond, n. [blond] Blonda. Maganda, makinis ang balat at maganda ang mata't buhok. Blood, n. [blad] Sangre. Dugô. Bloodguiltiness, n. [bládguiltines] Homicidio. Pamamatay-tao. Bloodhot, adj. [bládjot] Lo que tiene el mismo calor ó temperamento que la sangre. Ang kasing-init ng dugô ó katawan. Bloodily, adv. [bládili] Cruelmente. May pagkatampalasan. Bloodless, adj. [bládles] Exangüe. Walang dugô. Bloodshed, n. [bládsied] Efusion de sangre, matanza. Pagbubúbùan ng dugô; pátayan. Bloodstained, adj. [bládstend] Manchado con sangre, cruel. May bahid na dugô; mabagsik. Bloodsucker, n. [bládsukær] Sanguijuela; homicida; avaro. Lintâ; mámamatay-tao; sakím. Bloodthirsty, adj. [bládzærsti] Sanguinario, cruel. Uhaw sa dugô, mabagsik. Bloodvessel, n. [bládvesel] Vena, vaso de la sangre. Ugat, ugat na kinalalamnan ng dugô. Bloodwarm, adj. [bláduorm] A la temperatura de la sangre. Kasing-init ng dugô. Bloody, adj. [bládi] Sangriento, ensangrentado. Madugô, duguduguan. Bloody, v. [bládi] Ensangrentar. Dumugô, paduguin. Bloody-faced, adj. [bládi-fæsd] El que tiene cara de asesino. Mukhang mámamatay tao. Bloom, n. [blum] Flor de los árboles y plantas. Bulaklak. Bloom, v. [blum] Echar ó producir flor; florecer. Mamulaklak. Bloomy, adj. [blúmi] Florido. Mabulaklak. Blossom, n. [blózæm] Flor. Bulaklak. Blossom, v. [blozaem] Florecer. Mamulaklak, bumulaklak. Blot, n. [blot] Borron, mancha. Katkat; dumí, dungis. Blot, v. [blot] Borrar, tachar lo escrito. Kumatkat, katkatin. Blotch, n. [blotch] Mancha. Manchá, dungis. Blotch, v. [blotch] Manchar. Manchahan, dungisan. Blotting-paper, n. [blóting peiper] Papel secante. Sekante, pangdampê, panuyô. Blouse, n. [bloús] Blusa. Blusa, barong pang-ibabaw. Blow, n. [bló] Soplo; golpe. Hihip, hampas; bugbog. Blow, v. [bló] Soplar. Humihip. Blower, n. [blóær] Soplador. Tagahihip. Blowpipe, n. [blópaip] Soplete. Panghihip. Blowzy, n. [bláuzi] Pandorga. Babaing mataba't makuyad. Blowzy, adj. [bláuzi] Quemado del sol. Sunóg sa araw. Blubber, n. [blábær] Grasa de ballena. Tabâ ng balyena. Blubber, v. [blábær] Llorar hasta hincharse los carrillos. Umiyak hanggang sa magkangmumugtô ang mga matá. Bludgeon, n. [bládchen] Cachiporra ó porra. Pálong maikli. Blue, adj. [blu] Azul. Bughaw, asul. Blue, v. [blu] Azular, teñir de azul. Tinain ng bughaw ó asul. Blu-eyed, adj. [bliú-aid] Ojizarco. Bulagaw. Blueness, n. [bliúnes] Color azul. Kulay bughaw. Bluff, adj. [blæf] Agreste, rústico. Magaspang, bastos. Bluffness, n. [bléfnes] Asperidad, rusticidad. Kagaspangan, kabastusan. Bluish, adj. [bliush] Azulado. Mabughaw. Blunder, n. [blándær] Desatino, disparate; error falta. Kabalastugan; kamalian, kakulangan. Blunder, n. [blándær] Disparatar. Mamalastog, mámalî. Blunderbuss, n. [blánderbæs] Trabuco. Baril na maiksí at malakí ang butas. Blunt, adj. [blænt] Embotado, obtuso; lerdo, tardo. Pulpol, pudpod; makupad, mabagal. Blunt, v. [blænt] Embotar, enervar. Pulpulin, pudpurin, papurilin. Blur, n. [blær] Borron ó mancha. Katkat, bakat. Blur, v. [blær] Borrar; manchar. Katkatín; bakatan. Blurt, v. [blært] Soltar alguna cosa impensadamente. Magbadya ng dî iniisip kung malî, mápabiglà. Blush, n. [blash] Rubor, bochorno. Hiyâ, kahihiyan, pamumulá ó pamumutlâ ng mukhâ. Blush, v. [blash] Abochornarse, sonrojar. Mahiyâ, mamulá ang mukhâ. Bluster, n. [blástær] Ruido, tumulto; jactancia. Ingay, kaingáy; guló, kaguló; kahambugan, kayabangan. Bluster, v. [blástær] Hacer ruido tempestuoso. Mangbulahaw. Boa, n. [bóa] Boa. Sawá. Boar, n. [bor] Verraco. Baboy na lalake. Board, n. [bord] Tabla. Tablá, pisarra. Board, v. [bord] Estar á pupilaje. Makisunò, tumuloy. Boarding house, n. [bórding-jáus] Casa de pupilos ó de huéspedes. Bahay pátuluyan. Boast, n. [bost] Jactancia, vanagloria, arrogancia, ostentancion. Kahambugan, kayabangan. Boast, v. [bost] Jactarse. Maghambog, magmayabang, mamansag. Boastful, adj. [bóstful] Jactancioso. Hambog, mayabang, mapagparangalán. Boat, n. [bot] Bote, barca. Bangkâ, paráw, daóng. Boatman, n. [bótman] Banquero. Bangkero, mámamangkâ. Boatswain, n. [bósn] Contramaestre. Ang punò na namamahalà sa mga gáwain ng isang sasakyan. Bob, n. [bob] Pingajo; pendiente de oreja. Bitin; hikaw. Bob, v. [bob] Apalear, bambolear. Bumugbog, humampas. Bobbin, n. [bóbin] Canilla, broca. Ikirán, kidkiran. Bobtail, n. [bobtél] Rabon, descolado. Maikling buntot. Bode, v. [bod] Presagiar, pronosticar, predecir. Manghulà. Bodement, n. [bódment] Presagio, pronóstico. Hulà. Bodied, adj. [bóded] Corpóreo. May katawan. Bodiless, adj. [bódiles] Incorpóreo. Walang katawan. Bodily, adj. & adv. [bódili] Corporalmente. Nauukol sa katawan. Bodkin, n. [bódkin] Punzon de sastre. Kasangkapang pangbutas. Body, n. [bódi] Cuerpo. Katawan. Bog, n. [bog] Pantano. Burak, banlik. Boggy, a. [bóggi] Pantanoso. Maburak. mabanlik. Bogus, a. [bógus] Postizo. Pustiso. Boil, n. [bóil] Tumorcillo. Bukol. Boil, v. [bóil] Hervir, bullir. Magpakulô. pakuluin. Boiler, n. [bóiler] Marmita. Pákuluan. Boisterous, a. [boísteres] Tumultuoso. Malikot, magaslaw, mapanggulo. Bold, a. [bold] Intrépido, bravo, valiente, audaz. Matapang, walang kabá pangahas. Boldness, n. [bóldnes] Intrepidez, valentia. Tapang, siglá. Bole, n. [bol] Tronco. Punò (ng kahoy). Bolt, n. [bolt] Cerrojo. Pangtrangka; kandado. Bolt, v. [bolt] Cerrar con cerrojo. Itrangka, ikandado. Bomb, n. [bomb] Bomba. Bomba. Bombard, v. [bombárd] Bombardear. Kanyonin, bombardeohín. Bombshell, n. [bómbshel] Bala de cañon. Bala ng kanyon. Bond, n. [bond] Ligadura, vínculo; preso, cautivo. Talì, katibayan; bilanggô, bihag. Bondage, n. [bóndedch] Cautiverio, servidumbre. Pagkabihag, pagkaalipin. Bondmaid, n. [bóndmed] Esclava. Aliping babae. Bondman, n. [bóndman] Esclavo. Aliping lalake. Bondservant, n. [bondsérvant] Esclavo ó esclava. Alipin. Bondsman, n. [bóndzman] Fiador. Tagapanagot. Bone, n. [bon] Hueso.. Butó. Bone, v. [bon] Desosar. Alisín ang butó. Bonfire, n. [bónfair] Luminaria. Sigâ. Bonnet, n. [bonet] Gorra, bonete. Bonete, gora. Bonny, a. [bóni] Bonito, lindo, alegre. Magandá, masayá. Bonus, n. [bónus] Cuota, prima. Bayad, ganti. Bony, a. [bóni] Osudo. Mabutó, butuhan. Booby, a. [búbi] Necio, ignorante. Mangmang, hangal, ungas, musmos. Book, n. [buk] Libro. Aklat, libró. Book, v. [buk] Asentar en un libro. Ilagdâ sa aklat. Bookbinder, n. [búk-bainder] Encuadernador de libros. Tagapagbalat ng libro ó aklat. Bookbinding, n. [búk-bainding] Encuadernacion. Pagbabalat ng aklat, pageenkwaderná. Bookcase, n. [búk-kes] Armario para libros. Lalagyan ng mga aklat. Bookish, a. [búkish] Estudioso. Palaarál, masipag magaral. Bookkeeper, n. [búkkiper] Tenedor de libros. Tenedor de libro. Bookkeeping, n. [búkkiping] La teneduria de libros. Ang pagtatalâ sa aklat hingil sa kalakal ó tanda. Bookseller, n. [búkseler] Librero. Ang nagbibilí ng aklat. Bookworm, n. [búk-worm] Gusano que roe los libros, polilla; aficionado á los libros. Tangà, palabasa ng aklat. Boom, n. [bum] Botalon; cadena para cerrar un puerto; zumbido. Isang palo sa sasakyan na maraming pinaggagamitan; tanikalang panghadlang sa isang daungán; hiyaw; sigaw. Boom, v. [bum] Zumbar. Humiyaw, sumigaw. Boon, n. [bun] Dádiva, presente, regalo. Kaloob, bigay. Boon, a. [bun] Alegre, festivo; generoso. Masaya; magandang loob. Boor, n. [bur] Aldeano, villano. Taong mababang urì, tagabukid. Boorish, a. [búrish] Rústico, agreste. Magaspang, bastos. Boorishly, adv. [búrishli] Rústicamente, toscamente. May kagaspangan, may kabastusan. Boot, n. [but] Bota. Bota. Boot, n. [but] Ganancia, provecho, ventaja. Pakinabang, tubò. Boot, v. [but] Aprovechar, valer, servir, ser util. Pakinabangan, magamit. Booted, a. [butted] Calzado con botas. Nakabota. Booth, n. [buz] Barraca, cabaña. Dampâ ó kubo. Boot-jack, n. [bútdchac] Sacabotas. Pang-alis ng sapatos. Bootless, a. [bútles] Sin calzado; inutil. Walang sapatos; walang kabuluhan. Booty, n. [búti] Botin, presa, saqueo. Násamsam, nápanglooban. Borax, n. [bóraks] Borraj, sal de sosa. Sal de sosa. Border, n. [bórder] Borde, orilla; frontera. Gilid, tabí, baybay; hangganan. Border, v. [bórder] Confinar, lindar. Umabot sa gilid. Bordering, n. [bórdering] Fronterizo, contiguo, cercano, vecino. Kahanggá. Bore, v. [bor] Taladrar, barrenar. Butasin, balibulin barenahin. Borer, n. [bórer] Barreno, taladro. Pangbutas, balibol. Born, p.p. [born] Nacido. Ipinanganák. Borne, p.p. [born] Llevado, sostenido. Dalá, taglay. Borough, n. [bóro] Ciudad ó villa. Bayan. Borrow, v. [boró] Pedir prestado. Humiram, manghiram. Borrower, n. [borówer] Prestamista. Manghihiram. Bosom, n. [bósom] Seno. Dibdib, sinapupunan. Boss, n. [bos] Clavo; jiba, joroba; patron, maestro. Pakò; kakubàan; amo, panginoon. Botany, n. [bótani] Botánika. Karunungan tungkol sa mga halaman ó pananím. Botch, n. [botch] Remiendo; roncha; úlcera. Tagpí; umbok; bantal. Botch, v. [botch] Remendar; chapuzar. Magtagpî; sumukbó. Both, a. [boz] Ambos. Kapwà. Bother, v. [bódzer] Perturbar, molestar, incomodar. Mang-abala, mangyamot, mangligalig. Bots, n. [bots] Lombrices en las entrañas de los caballos. Bulati sa tiyang ng kabayo. Bottle, n. [bótl] Botella, frasco. Bote, botelya, praskó. Bottle, v. [botl] Embotellar. Isilid sa bote. Bottled, a. [bótld] Embotellado. Nasa bote ó botelya. Bottling, n. [bótling] El acto de embotellar. Pagsisilid sa botelya. Bottom, n. [bótom] Fondo. Ang ilalim ó káilailaliman; pusod ó pwit ó ibabâ ng anoman. Bottomless, a. [bótomles] Insondable, impenetrable. Dî matarok, dî maabot. Bough, n. [bou] Brazo del arbol, ramo. Malaking sangá. Bounce, v. [báuns] Arremeter; brincar, saltar; jactarse. Dumaluhong; lumukso; magmayaban. Bouncer, n. [báuncer] Fanfarron. Mayabang. Bound, n. [báund] Límite, término; brinco, salto. Hangga, hangganan; luksó; lundag. Bound, v. [báund] Poner limites, confinar; saltar, botar. Maglagay ng hangga, hangganán; lumundag, lumukso. Bound, a. [baund] Destinado. Ukol. Boundary, n. [báunderi] Limite, frontera. Hangganan. Bounden, a. [báunden] Obligado, precisado. Tungkuling gawin, kailangang gawin. Boundless, a. [báundles] Ilimitado, infinito. Walang hanggan. Bounteous, a. [báunties] Liberal, generoso. Mapagmabutí, mapagbiyayà, magandang loob, butihin. Bountiful, a. [báuntiful] Liberal, generoso. Mabuting ugalì, magandang loob. Bounty, n. [báunti] Liberalidad, generosidad. Kagandahang-loob, kabutihang ugalì. Bouquet, n. [bókd] Ramillete de flores. Bungkos na bulaklak. Bourn, n. [bórn] Distrito; confin. Nayon; hangganan. Bout, adv. [báut] Vez; un rato. Twî; sangdalî. Bovine, a. [bóvin] Bovino. Nauukol sa bakang lalake ó toro. Bow, n. [bau] Reverencia, cortesía. Galang, pitagan. Bow, n. [bo] Arco. Búsog [na pamanà], balantok. Bow, v. [bau] Encorvarse, hacer reverencia. Yumukod, gumalang. Bowable, a. [bó-abl] Flexible, docil. Nababaluktok, malambot. Bowel, v. [báwel] Destripar. Magpalwâ ng bituka. Bowels, n. [báwels] Intestinos, entrañas. Bituka, lamang-loob. Bower, n. [báuer] Glorieta, bóveda. Glorieta, balag na pálamigan sa halamanan. Bowl, n. [bául] Taza. Mangkok, tasa. Bowlder, n. [bólder] Guijarro. Batong makinis na dî lubhang kálakihan. Bowlegged, a. [bóleggd] De piernas redondas. Mabilog ang bintî. Bowline, n. [bóulin] Bolina. Lubid ng layag. Bowman, n. [bóman] Arquero. Mámamanà. Bowshot, n. [bóshot] La distancia á que una flecha puede ser arrojada del arco. Ang agwat ng hilagpos ng isang panà. Bowyer, n. [bóyer] Arquero. Manggagawà ng búsog na gamit sa pamamanà. Box, n. [boks] Caja. Kahon, kaha. Box, n. [boks] Bofetada. Suntok. Box, v. [boks] Apuñetear. Manuntok. Boxer, n. [bókser] Púgil. Ang marunong manuntok. Boxing, n. [bóksing] Pugilato. Boksin, suntukan. Boy, n. [boy] Niño, muchacho. Batang lalake, bataan. Boyhood, n. [bóyjud] Muchachez. Kabataan. Boyish, a. [bóyish] Pueril. Ugaling batà. Boy's-play, n. [bóiz-pley] Juegos de niños. Larong batà. Brabble, n. [brábl] Camorra, riña. Guló, away, basagulo. Brabble, n. [brábl] Armar camorra. Mang-away, mang-basagulo. Brace, n. [brés] Abrazadera; tirantes para sostener los pantalones. Kawing; tirantes na pamigil ng salawal. Brace, v. [brés] Atar, amarrar. Italì, igapos. Bracelet, n. [bréslet] Brazalete, pulsera. Pulsera, kalombigas. Bracket, n. [bráket] Puntal. Tulos, puntal. Bracket, v. [bráket] Unir, ligar. Isugpong, ikawing. Brackish, a. [brákish] Salobre. Maalat. Brad, n. [brad] Clavo de ala de mosca. Pakong maiklì at walang ulo. Brad-awl, n. [brad-ol] Lesna. Pangbutas. Brag, n. [brag] Jactancia. Kahambugan, paghahambog, kayabangan, pagyayabang. Brag, v. [brag] Jactarse, fanfarronear. Maghambog, magmayabang. Braggart, n. [brágart] Jactancioso. Hambog, mayabang. Braid, n. [breíd] Trenza. Tirintás. Braid, v. [breíd] Trenzar. Tirintasin, magtirintas. Brain, n. [breín] Cerebro, seso. Utak [sa ulo]. Brainless, a. [brénles] Tonto, insensato. Hangal, ungas. Brainpan, n. [brénpan] Craneo. Bao ng ulo. Brake, n. [breík] Freno. Pangpatigil, preno. Brackish, a. [brákish] Salobre. Maalat, matapsim. Brat, n. [brat] Rapaz, chulo. Batang hamak. Bravado, n. [brevádo] Bravata. Taong hambog. Brave, a. [bréiv] Bravo, valiente. Buháy ang loob, matapang. Bravery, n. [bréveri] Valor, animo. Lakas ng loob, tapang. Bravo, n. [brávo] Asesino asalariado. Tulisang upahán. Brawl, n. [brol] Quimera, alboroto. Kágalitan, guló. Brawl, v. [brol] Alborotar, vocinglear. Mag-ingay, mangguló, mang-away. Brawn, n. [bron] Pulpa. Kalamnan. Brawny, a. [bróni] Carnoso, musculoso. Malamán. Bray, n. [bre] Rebuzno [del asno]. Singasing [ng kabayo]. Bray, v. [bre] Triturar; rebuznar. Dumurog; magsingasing. Braze, v. [brez] Soldar con laton. Maghinang sa tansô. Brazen, a. [bre'zn] Bronceado. May halong tansô, bastos. Breach, n. [britch] Rotura, brecha. Sirà, butas, pwang. Bread, n. [bred] Pan. Tinapay. Breadth, n. [bredz] Anchura. Lwang, lwag. Break, v. [brik] Romper, quebrantar. Sumirà, bumasag, sirain, basagin, lumagot, lagutin. Break, n. [brik] Rotura, abertura. Sirà, basag, pwang. Breakfast, n. [brécfast] Desayuno, almuerzo. Agahan, almusal. Breakfast, v. [brécfast] Desayunarse, almorzar. Mag-agahan, mag-almusal. Breakneck, n. [brécnec] Despeñadero. Dakong matarík. Breakpromise, n. [brécpromis] El que no comple la palabra. Ang dî tumutupad ng pangakò. Breakwater, n. [brécuater] Muelle. Mwelye, pangbasag ng agos ó alon. Breast, n. [brest] Pecho. Dibdib. Breast, v. [brest] Acometer de frente. Dumaluhong ng hárapan. Breastbone, n. [bréstbon] Esternon. Butó ng dibdib. Breastpin, n. [bréstpin] Alfiler. Espilé. Breastplate, n. [bréstplet] Pectoral; peto. Pangdibdib ng paré; baluti sa dibdib. Breastword, n. [bréstuerd] Parapeto. Kutà. Breath, v. [briz] Alentar, respirar. Humingá. Breathe, n. [briz] Aliento, respiracion. Hingá, hiningá. Breathing, n. [brízing] Aspiracion. Paghingá. Breathless, a. [bréz-les] Falto de aliento. Walang hingá. Breech, n. [britch] Trasero, nalgas. Pwit, pwitan. Breech, v. [britch] Poner los calzones á uno; azotar. Suután ng saláwal; hampasin. Breeches, n. [bríchis] Calzones. Salawal. Breed, v. [brid] Criar, procrear; educar, enseñar. Mag-iwî, mag-alaga; magturò. Breed, n. [brid] Casta, raza; progenie, generacion. Lahì. Breeder, n. [bríder] La persona que cría y educa á otra. Tagapag-alagà, taga-iwî. Breeding, n. [bríding] Crianza, urbanidad. Galang, turò. Breeze, n. [briz] Brisa, viento suave. Simoy ng hangin. Breezeless, a. [brízles] Sin brisa. Walang simoy. Breme, a. [brim] Cruel, severo. Mabagsik, tampalasan. Brent, n. [brent] Garza. Gansang lalake. Brethren, n. [bréz-ren] Hermanos. Magkakapatid, mga kapatid. Breve, n. [briv] Nota musical. Nota ng músika. Brevet, n. [brivét] Comision honoraria ó grado honorífico. Kalagayang pang-dangal. Brevity, n. [bréviti] Brevedad. Iklî, kaiklian. Brew, v. [briu] Mezclar [licores]; hacer cerveza. Maglahoklahok ng alak; gumawa ng cerveza. Brew, n. [briu] Mezcla [de licores]. Lahok (ng alak). Brewer, n. [bríuer] Cervecero. Magseserbesá. Brewery, n. [bríu-eri] Cervecería. Gáwaan ng serbesa. Brewhouse, n. [bríu-jaus] Cervecería. Gáwaan ng serbesa. Bribe, n. [bráib] Cohecho, soborno. Suhol. Bribe, v. [bráib] Cohechar, sobornar. Sumuhol. Briber, n. [bráiber] Cohechador. Mánunuhol. Bribery, n. [bráiberi] Cohecho, soborno. Suhol, panunuhol. Brick, n. [bric] Ladrillo. Laryó. Brick, v. [bric] Enladrillar. Maglaryó. Brickbat, n. [brícbat] Pedazo de ladrillo. Putol na laryó. Brickclay, n. [bríkle] Tierra para hacer ladrillos. Lupang ginagawang laryó. Brickearth, n. [bríkerz] Tierra para hacer ladrillos. Lupang ginagawang laryó. Brick-kiln, n. [bríc-kiln] Horno de ladrillo. Hurnó ng laryó. Bricklayer, n. [bríc-leer] Albañil. Manggagawa ng tungkol sa laryó. Brickmaker, n. [brícmeker] Ladrillero. Manggagawà ng laryó. Brickwork, n. [brícuerk] Enladrillado. Nilaryó. Bricky, a. [bríki] Ladrilloso. Malaryó. Bridal, a. [bráidal] Nupcial, boda. Pag-aasawa, kasál, boda. Bride, n. [bráid] Novia, la mujer recien casada. Nobya, babaing bagong kasál. Bridegroom, n. [bráidgrum] Novio, el recien casado. Nobyo, lalaking bagong kasal. Bridesmaid, n. [bráidsmed] Acompañante de la novia. Abay na babae. Bridemen, n. [bráidmen] Acompañante del novio. Abay na lalake. Bridge, n. [brídch] Puente. Tulay. Bridge, v. [brídch] Construir ó levantar un puente. Gumawâ ng tulay, maglagay ng tulay. Bridle, n. [bráidl] Brida ó freno. Kabesada [ng kabayo]. Bridle, v. [bráidl] Embridar; reprimir, refrenar. Pigilin, pigilan. Brief, a. [brif] Breve, conciso. Maiklî. Briefly, adv. [brífli] Brevemente. Karakaraka, agad. Brier, n. [bráier] Zarza. Mababang halaman. Brig, n. [brig] Bergantin. Bergantin, sasakyang may palo. Brigade, n. [briguéd] Brigada. Sanggayong bilang ng mga kawal. Brigadier-general, n. [brígadir-dcheneral] Brigadier. Brigadier. Brigand, n. [brígand] Ladron público, bandido. Tulisán, manghaharang. Brigandage, n. [brígandedch] Salteamiento, latrocinio. Panunulisán, pang-haharang, pangloloob, paniniil. Bright, a. [bráit] Claro, reluciente; esclarecido, ingenioso. Makintab, maningning; malinaw; buháy ang loob, matalinò. Brighten, v. [bráiten] Pulir, bruñir, dar lustre; avivar, agusar el ingenio. Pakintabin, pakinisin, palinawin; buhayin, palakasin ang loob. Brightness, v. [bráitnes] Lustre, esplendor, brillantez; agudeza de ingenio. Kintab, kinis, ningning; katalinuan. Brilliancy, n. [bríliansi] Brillantez. Ningning, kislap, dilag. Brilliant, n. [bríliant] Brillante. Brillante, batong maningning. Brilliant, a. [bríliant] Brillante. Maningning, makislap, makináng, makintab. Brilliantly, adj. [bríliantly] Espléndidamente. May kaningningan, may kainaman. Brim, n. [brim] Borde, labio de una vasija. Gilid, bunganga ng isang sisidlan. Brim, v. [brim] Llenar hasta el borde; estar de bote en bote. Punuin, paapawin. Brimful, adj. [brímful] Lleno hasta el borde. Pagawpaw, punó hanggang sa bungangà ng sisidlan. Brimfulness, n. [brímfulnes] El estado de estar lleno hasta el borde. Ang pagkapunô hanggang sa labì ng sisidlan. Brimstone, n. [brímston] Azufre. Asupré. Brindle, adj. [brindl] Salpicado de varios colores. Batikbatik, bulik. Brindle, n. [brindl] Variedad de colores. Batik. Brine, n. [bráin] Salmuera. Patís, sawsawan, ketsap. Brine, v. [bráin] Embeber en salmuera. Asnán, paalatin. Bring, v. [bring] Traer. Magdalá rito, dalhin dito. Brinish, adj. [bráinish] Salado. Inasnán. Brinishness, n. [bráinishnis] Sabor de sal. Lasang asin, maalat. Brink, n. [brink] Orilla, margen, borde. Gilid, tabí, pangpang. Briny, adj. [bráini] Salado. Inasnán, maalat. Brisk, adj. [brisk] Vivo, alegre, jovial. Maliksí, masaya, magaan ang katawan. Brisk up, v. [brisk up] Avanzar con viveza; regocijarse, alegrarse. Magpakagaan ng katawan, magpakasayá. Brisket, n. [brísket] El pecho de un animal. Dibdib ng hayop. Bristle, n. [brísl] Cerda, seta. Tutsang, sungot. Bristle, v. [brísl] Erizar, poner derechas las cerdas ó puas el animal que las tiene. Manindig ang tutsang. Bristly, adj. [brístli] Cerdosa. Matutsáng. British, adj. [brítish] Británico. Taga Britanya ó ukol sa Britanya. Briton, n. & adj. [brítæn] Breton. Taga Britanya ó ukol sa Britanya. Brittle, adj. [brítl] Quebradizo, fragil. Babasagín, marupok, mahunâ, mahinà. Brize, n. [bráiz] Tábano. Bangaw. Broach, n. [bro-ch] Asador, espeton; un instrumento de música; un instrumento de relojeros. Isang kasangkapang matules; isang kagamitan ng mga músiko; isang kagamitan ng mga manggagawà ng relos. Broach, v. [bro-ch] Espetar, barrenar. Bumutas, butasin. Broad, adj. [brod] Ancho, abierto. Malapad, malwang; malwat. Broaden, v. [bródn] Ensancharse. Lumwang, lwangan, lumapad, laparan. Broadness, n. [bródness] Anchura. Lwang, lapad. Brodekin, n. [bródkin] Borceguí. Borsegí. Brogue, n. [brog] Idioma corrompido. Salitang utal. Broil, n. [bróil] Tumulto, alboroto, riña. Kagulo, kaingay, away. Broil, v. [bróil] Asar carne sobre las ascuas. Mag-ihaw, magsalab, magdangdang, magdaráng. Broke, v. [broc] Hacer de corredor. Mag-corredor. Brokenhanded, adj. [brókn jánded] Manco. Kimaw. Brokenhearted, adj. [brokn járted] De corazon quebrantado. Bagbag na loob. Broker, n. [bróker] Corredor. Corredor. Bronchial, adj. [brónkial] Bronquial. Nauukol sa bagà. Bronchic, adj. [brónkik] Bronquial. Nauukol sa bagà. Bronze, n. [bronz] Bronce. Lahok ng mga metal na tila tansong pulá. Brooch, n. [bruch] Broche. Espile sa dibdib. Brood, n. [brud] Progenie, raza, casta. Lahì, angkán. Brood, v. [brud] Empollar, cobijar. Yumungyong, umakay. Brook, n. [bruk] Arroyo. Batis. Brook, v. [bruk] Sufrir, tolerar. Magtiis, magbatá, magparaan. Broom, n. [brum] Escoba. Walís, lawis. Broomstick, n. [brúmstik] Palito de escoba. Tingting. Broth, n. [broz] Caldo. Sabaw. Brother, n. [bródzer] Hermano. Kapatid [na lalake]. Brotherhood, n. [bródzerjud] Hermandad, fraternidad. Pagkakapatiran. Brother-in-law, n. [bródzer-in-lo] Cuñado. Bayaw. Brotherless, adj. [bródzerles] Persona que no tiene ningun hermano. Walang kapatid. Brotherly, adj. [bródzerli] Fraternal. Parang kapatid. Brougham, n. [bró-am] Carruage. Karwahe. Brow, n. [bráu] Ceja. Kilay. Browbeat, v. [bráubit] Mirar con ceño. Kumindat. Brown, adj. [bráun] Mereno, castaño. Kuyomanggi. Brownish, adj. [bráunish] Lo que tira á moreno ó castaño. Tila kuyomanggi. Browse, n. [bráuz] Pimpollos, renuevos. Supling, swí. Browse, v. [bráuz] Ramonear, pacer, comer las ramas, etc.. Manginain ng mga. usbong, dahon, ibp. Bruise, n. [bríuz] Magulladura, golpe. Lamog, bugbog. Bruise, v. [bríuz] Magullar, golpear. Bumugbog, lumamog. Bruiser, n. [briúser] Pugil; un instrumento de los ópticos. Taong malakas na walang galang; isang kagamitan ng mga manggamot sa matá. Brunette, n. [briunét] Morena, trigueña. Babaing may pagkakuyomanggi. Brunt n., n. [brunt] Choque ó encuentro violento, golpe, accidente, desastre. Banggâ, untog, kapahamakan, sakunâ. Brush, n. [brush] Cepillo. Sepilyo. Brush, v. [brash] Acepillar. Sepilyuhin. Brushwood, n. [brashwud] Matorral, zarzal. Kadawagan, kaugoygoyan. Brustle, v. [brésl] Crujir, chillar. Humaginit, humiging. Brutal, adj. [briútal] Brutal, salvaje, cruel. Tila hayop, mabaksik. Brutality, n. [briutáliti] Brutalidad. Kahayupan. Brute, n. [brut] Bruto. Hayop. Brutish, adj. [briútish] Brutal, bestial. Tila hayop. Bryony, n. [bráioni] Nueza blanca. Lipay. Bubble, n. [bébl] Burbuja. Bulâ, bulubok, bulwak. Bubble, v. [báebl] Burbujear. Bumulâ, bumulubok, bumulwak. Bubbly, adj. [bébli] Espumoso. Mabulâ. Buccaneers, n. [boecanírz] Filibusteros. Mga tulisang dagat sa amérika ayon sa mga ingglés. Buck, n. [bæc] Gamo. Usang lalake. Bucket, n. [bæket] Cubo, pozal. Timbâ, baldé. Buckle, n. [békl] Hebilla, bucle. Kulot [ng buhok.]. Buckle, v. [békl] Hebillar. Kulutin. Bud, n. [bad] Vástago, pimpollo. Buko; usbong. Bud, v. [bad] Brotar, estar en flor. Bumuká, bumulaklak. Budge, v. [bædch] Moverse, menearse. Kumilos, gumalaw. Budget, n. [bédchet] Talego portatil. Bayong na may lamán. Buff, n. [bæf] Piel curtida del búfalo. Katad ng kalabaw. Buffalo, n. [búfalo] Búfalo. Kalabaw. Buffet, n. [béfet] Aparador, alacena. Aparador, páminggalan. Buffeter, n. [báfeter] Púgil. Táong tampalasan. Buffle, v. [báfl] Confundirse. Malinglang, malito, matulig. Buffon, n. [bæfún] Bufón, truhan. Payaso, púsong. Buffon, v. [béfun] Burlar, chocarrear. Magpatawâ, magpusong, magpayaso. Buffonery, n. [béfunæry] Bufonada, bufonería; chanzas bajas; majadería. Pagpapatawa, pagbibirô; pamumusong. Bug, n. [bæg] Chinche. Surot. Bugbear, n. [bægbar] Espantajo. Panakot. Buggy, adj. [bágui] Chinchero. Masurot. Buggy, n. [bágui] Calecin. Kalesin. Bugle, n. [biúgl] Corneta de monte ó trompa de caza. Tambulì, pakakak. Build, n. [bild] Estructura. Pagkakaakmà ng gusalì ó bahay. Build, v. [bild] Edificar, construir. Magtayô ng gusalì gumawà ng bahay. Building, n. [bílding] Edificio. Gusalì, bahay. Bulb, n. [bælb] Bulbo. Bukba. Bulk, n. [bælk] Tamaño, bulto, masa, volumen. Lakí, kapal. Bulky, adj. [bálki] Voluminoso, corpulento, abultado, grande, pesado. Makapal, malaki, mabigat. Bull, n. [bul] Toro; bula pontificia. Toro, bakang lalake; bula ng papa. Bull-baiting, n. [búl-beting] Combate de toros y perros. Labanan ng mga toro at aso. Bull-beef, n. [búl-bif] Carne de toro. Laman ó karné ng toro. Bull-dog, n. [búl dog] Perro de presa. Asong pangaso. Bullet, n. [búlet] Bala de metal. Punglô, bala. Bulletin, n. [búletin] Boletin, noticias de oficio. Pahayagan ng mga hanap-buhay at kalakal. Bullion, n. [búliæn] Oro en tejos, ó plata en barras y sin labrar. Gintô ó pilak na dî pa nadadalisay. Bullock, n. [búlæk] Novillo. Bulo, guyang toro. Bully, n. [búli] Espadachin, rufian. Taong masama at hambog. Bully, v. [búli] Insultar; fanfarronear. Lumapastangan; maghambog. Bulwark, n. [búlwærk] Baluarte. Munting kutà; kublihan sa kalaban. Bumblebee, n. [bámblbi] Avispa. Bubuyog. Bump, n. [bæmp] Hinchazon. Pamamagâ. Bump, v. [bæmp] Dar estallido como una bomba. Pumutok na parang isang bomba. Bumpkin, n [bémp-kin] Patan, villano, rústico. Taong hamak, taong walang turò, taong bastos. Bunch, n. [banch] Racimo, manojo, atado. Bwig, bigkis. Bunch, v. [banch] Atar. Magbigkis. Bunchy, adj. [bánchi] Racimoso. Mabwig. Bundle, n. [bándl] Atado, mazo. Bigkis, talì, balot. Bundle, v. [bándl] Atar, empaquetar, envolver. Bigkisin, talian, balutin. Bung, n. [bæng] Tapon ó tarugo. Tapón ó pasak. Bung, v. [bæng] Atarugar. Tapunán ó pasakan. Bunghole, n. [bángjol] Boca, el agujero por el cual se envasan los licores en las pipas. Bungangà ng bariles. Bungle, v. [bángl] Chapucear, chafallar. Gawín kahit papaano. Bunk, n. [bænk] Tarimon. Hígaan, papag. Bunt, n. [bænt] Hinchazon. Pamamagâ. Bunt, v. [bænt] Hincharse. Mamagâ. Buoy, n. [buoi] Boya. Boya, palutáng. Buoy, v. [buoi] Boyar, mantenerse sobre el agua. Magpalutáng. Buoyancy, n. [buó-iansi] Fluctuacion. Pagpapalutáng. Buoyant, adj. [buó-iant] Boyante. Magaan, masayá. Burden, n. [bárden] Carga. Pasán, sunong. Burden, v. [bárden] Cargar. Pumasan, sumunong. Burdensome, adj. [bárdensam] Gravoso, molesto, incómodo. Mabigat, mahirap dalhin. Burdock, n. [bárdoc] Bardana. Mores. Bureau, n. [biu-ro] Armario con cajones, escritorio, bufete; departamento del gobierno. Aparador, mesang sulatán; kágawaran. Burglar, n. [búrglar] Ladron, salteador. Magnanakaw, mangloloob. Burial, n. [bérial] Entierro. Paglilibing, pagbabaón. Burial place, n. [bérial-ples] Cementerio. Líbingan, báunan. Burier, n. [bérer] Enterrador, sepulturero. Manghuhukay. Burin, n. [biúrin] Buril. Kasangkapan ng mámamanday ng ginto't pilak. Burn, n. [bærn] Quemadura. Pasò, paltos. Burn, v. [bærn] Quemar. Mapasò, masunog, magpaltos; sumunog, pumasò. Burnable, adj. [bérnabl] Combustible. Susunugín, susupukín. Burner, n. [bérner] Quemador. Tagasunog, mánununog. Burnish, v. [bérnish] Bruñir; tomar lustre. Bulihin; pakinangín, pakinisin. Burr, n. [bær] Lóbulo ó pulpejo de la oreja. Pingol ng tainga. Burst, v. [bærst] Reventar, estallar. Pumutok, sumilakbo, sumabog. Burst, n. [bærst] Estallido, rebosadura. Putok, silakbo. Bury, v. [béri] Enterrar, sepultar. Maglibing, magbaón. Burying, n. [bériing] Entierro, exequias. Paglilibing. Bush, n. [bush] Ramo, arbusto, mata, matorral. Sanga, mababa't mayabong na halaman, dawag. Bush, v. [bush] Crecer espeso. Yumabong, gumubat. Bushel, n. [búshel] Fanega. Kabán. Bushy, adj. [búshi] Espeso, lleno de arbustos. Masinsin, mayabong, masanga, malagô. Busiless, adj. [bíziles] Desocupado, ocioso. Walang gawâ, pagayongayon. Busily, adv. [bízili] Solicitamente, diligentemente. May kaliksihan, may kasipagan. Business, n. [bíznes] Empleo, oficio, asunto, negocio. Kalagayan, pagkabuhay, hanap-buhay. Bust, n. [bust] Busto. Busto, larawang ulo ó kaya'y hanggang kalahatian ng katawan. Bustle, n. [bæsl] Bullicio, ruido, alboroto. Kaingáy, kaguló, higing, alingawngaw. Bustle, v. [baæsl] Bullir, hacer ruido ó estruendo. Mag-ingay, magpaalingawngaw. Busy, adj. [bísi] Ocupado. May ginagawâ. Busy, v. [bísi] Ocupar, emplear. Gumawâ, magmasipag. But, conj. [bat] Sino. Kundî, liban, lamang, bagkus. But, prep. [bat] Pero. Ngunì, datapwà. Butcher, n. [búcher] Carnicero. Magkakarné, mangkakatay ng hayop. Butcherly, adj. [búchoerli] Sanguinario, bárbaro. Mabagsik, tampalasan. Butler, n. [bátler] Despensero de algun señor. Kátiwalà sa mga alak at pagkain. Butlership, n. [bátlership] Oficio de despensero. Tungkuling pagka-katiwalà sa mga alak at pagkain. Butt, n. [boet] Terrero. Malaking bariles. Butt, v. [boet] Topar, topetar. Mábanggâ, mábunggô. Butter, n. [bátter] Mantequilla. Mantekilya. Butter, v. [bátter] Untar con mantequilla. Magpahid ng mantekilya. Butterfly, n. [báterflay] Mariposa. Paróparó. Buttermilk, n. [bátermilk] Suero de manteca. Gatas na walang halò. Buttery, adj. [báteri] Mantecoso. Mamantikà, may mantekilya. Buttery, n. [báteri] Despensa. Páminggalan. Buttock, n. [bátoek] Anca. Baywang, pigî. Button, n. [bátn] Botón. Butones. Button, v. [bátn] Abotonar. Magbutones, ibotones. Buttonhole, n. [bátnjol] Ojal. Ohales. Button-maker, n. [batn-méker] Botonero. Manggagawà ng botones. Buttress, n. [bátres] Estribo, apoyo, sosten. Estribo, alalay, pangpatibay. Butyraceous, adj. [baitécies] Mantecoso. Mamantikà. Buxom, adj. [bécsoem] Obediente, docil; vivo, alegre. Masunurin, mabaít; maliksí, masayá. Buy, v. [bay] Comprar. Bumilí, mamilí. Buyer, n. [báyer] Comprador. Tagabilí, mámimili. Buzz, n. [bæz] Susurro, murmurio. Haging, haginit. Buzz, v. [bæz] Sumbar; cuchichear. Hamaging; humaginit. By, prep. [bay] Por, con. Sa, ni, ng, sa pamamagitan. Bramble, n. [brámbl] Zarza, arbusto espinoso. Dawag, mababang punong kahoy na matinik. Bran, n. [bran] Salvado. Darak. Branch, n. [branch] Ramo, a. Sangá. Branch, v. [branch] Ramificarse. Magsangá. Branch, a. [branch] Ramo. Kasanga. Brand, n. [brand] Tizon, marca ó sello. Sigsig; tandâ ó tatak. Brand, v. [brand] Marcar, herrar. Markahan, tandaan. Brandiron, n. [brándairen] Marca, el hierro. Pangmarka ó panatak. Brandish, v. [brándish] Blandir, ondear. Wagayway, wasiwas. Brandnew, a. [brándnu] Flamante. Maningas, mapusok. Brandy, n. [brándi] Aguardiente. Agwardyente. Brangle, n. [bránggl] Quimera, disputa. Káalitan. Brangle, v. [bránggl] Reñir, disputar. Makipagkaalit, makipagtalo. Brasen ó brazen, a. [brézn] Hecho de bronce. Yari sa tansong dilaw. Brassier, n. [brézer] Latonero, brasero. Ang marunong gumawâ ng mga kasangkapang tansong dilaw. Brass, n. [bras] Bronce. Tansong dilaw. Brassfounder, n. [brásfaunder] Fundidor. Mangbububò ng tansong dilaw. Brassy, a. [brási] Lo que participa de la calidad del bronce. Tila tansong dilaw. By, adv. [bay] Cerca, al lado de. Sa tabí, malapit sa. By-bye, [baybáy] Adiós. Adiós, paalam. By-end, [bay-énd] Interes particular. Masákit sa sarili. By-gone, adj. [báy-gon] Pasado. Nakaraan, nagdaan, lipas na. By-law, n. [bay-lo] Ordenanza, ley. Tagubiling, kautusan. By-name, n. [bay-ném] Apodo. Palayaw. Bypath, n. [báypaz] Senda descarriada. Landas na paligaw. Byroad, n. [báyrod] Camino oscuro. Daang tagô. By-stander, n. [bay-stánder] Miron, mirador. Nanonood. By-view, n. [bay-víu] Fin particular. Sariling tanaw, sariling masákit. By-walk, n. [báy-uok] Paseo oculto. Daang bukod. By-way, n. [bay-ue] Camino desviado. Daang kublí. Byword, n. [bay-uerd] Dicho, proverbio, refran. Kasabihán, kawikaan, bukang bibig. C Cab, n. [cab] Cab, una especie de vehiculo. Kab, kalesang inglés na tila rokabay. Cabal, n. [cabál] Cábala, sociedad de personas unidas para alguna conjuracion ó intriga. Katipunan na may bantâ. Cabal, v. [cabál] Maquinar, tramar. Magbantâ, mag-akalà ng isang laláng. Cabbage, n. [cábedch] Berza, repollo. Repolyo. Cabbage, v. [cábedch] Cercenar, hurtar retazos. Magtalop ng balat, umumit ng mga retaso. Cabin, n. [cábin] Cabaña, choza. Dampâ, sálong, kubo. Cabin, v. [cábin] Vivir en cabaña ó choza. Manahán sa dampâ. Cabinet, n. [cábinet] Gabinete, escritorio. Mesang sulatan. Cabinet-maker, n. [cábinet-méker] Ebanista. Manggagawà ng mga mesang sulatán. Cable, n. [kébl] Cable. Kable pahatid-kawad. Cablet, n. [kéblet] Remolque. Hila. Caboose, n. [cabús] El fogón ó cocina á bordo de un barco. Ang kúsinaan sa sasakyang dagat. Cacao, n. [kéco] Cacao. Kakáw. Cackle, n. [cákl] Cacareo. Tilaok. Cackle, v. [cákl] Cacarear, graznar. Tumilaok. Cackler, n. [cákler] Cacareador; chismoso. Mapagtilaok; mapaghatid humapit. Caco-demon, n. [caco-dímen] Diablo. Diablo. Cad, adj. [cad] Rústico, grosero. Bastos. Cadaver, a. [cadéver] Cadaver. Bangkáy. Cadaverous, adj. [cadáveraes] Cadavérico. Mukhang patáy, parang patáy, maputlâ. Caddy, n. [cádi] Botecito. Munting sisidlan. Cade, adj. [ked] Manso, domesticado, criado á la mano. Maamò. Cade, v. [ked] Criar con blandura, mimar. Paamuin, amuin. Cadence, n. [kédens] Cadencia, en la música ó en la poesía ó en las frases; caida, declinación. Pagkakatugmà sa tugtugin ó sa tulâ ó sa pananalitâ; kiling, hilig. Cadence, v. [kédens] Regular por medida música. Itugmâ sa kumpas ng tugtog. Cadet, n. [cadét] Cadete de un cuerpo militar. Kadete, ang nag-aaral ng pagpupunò sa mga sundalo ó kawal. Cafe, n. [café] Restaurant, fonda. Restauran, ponda. Cage, n. [kedch] Jaula. Hawla, kulungan. Cage, v. [kedch] Enjaular. Isilid sa hawla; kulungin. Caiman, n. [kéman] Caiman. Bwaya. Cairn, n. [carn] Monton de piedras. Bunton ó salansan ng bató. Caisson, n. [casóns] Arcon ó cajón grande. Malaking sisidlán. Caitiff, n. [kétif] Belitre, pícaro, ruin. Hamak, bastos. Cajole, v. [cadchól] Lisonjear, adular. Manuyâ, mamuri ng pakunwà. Cajoler, n. [cadchóler] Adulador, lisonjeador. Mánunuya, mámumuri ng pakunwâ. Cajolery, n. [cadchóleri] Adulacion, lisonja. Tuyâ, kunwang papuri. Cake, n. [keík] Bollo. Keík. Cake, v. [keík] Endurecer. Magpatigas. Calamitous, adj. [calámitæs] Calamitoso, miserable, infeliz. Abâ, hidwâ, kahapis-hapis. Calamity, n. [calámity] Calamidad. Sakunâ, kapahamakan. Calcareous, adj. [calkéries] Calcáreo. Parang apog; may halong apog. Calcine, v. [calsáin] Calcinar, quemar. Pumasò, sumunog. Calculate, v. [cálkiulet] Calcular. Kumurò, tumasa. Calculation, n. [calkiulécien] Calculacion, cálculo. Kurò, tasa. Calculator, n. [calkiulétær] Calculador. Tagakurô, tagatasa. Calculous, adj. [cálkiulos] Pedregoso, arenoso. Mabató, mabuhangin. Calculus, n. [cálkiulæs] Cálculo; piedra en la vejiga. Kurò; bató sa loob ng pantog. Caldron, n. [cáldræn] Calderón, caldera grande. Kawa, katingan. Calendar, n. [cálendar] Calendario ó almanaque.. Kalendaryo, almanake. Calf, n. [caf] Ternera; pantorrilla. Guyang baka; bintî. Caliber, n. [cáliber] Calibre. Kalibre. Calid, adj. [cálid] Caliente, ardiente. Mainit. Caligraphy, n. [calígrafi] Caligrafía. Karunungan sa pagtititik. Calix, n. [cálics] Caliz ó campanilla. Balat ng bulaklak. Calk, v. [coc] Calafatear un navio. Pasakan ang sirà ng sasakyan sa tubig. Calker, n. [cóker] Calafate. Tagapagpasak ng sirà ng sasakyan sa tubig. Call, n. [col] Llamada; visita. Tawag; dalaw. Call, v. [col] Llamar, nombrar; visitar á uno. Tumawag, magpangalan; dumalaw. Caller, n. [cóler] Llamador. Ang tumawag. Callet, n. [cálet] Regañona, peliforra. Magagalitín. Calling, n. [cóling] Profesion, vocacion. Pagkabuhay, hilig. Calligraphy, n. [calígrafi] Caligrafía. Karunugnan tungkol sa mabuting paninitik. Callosity, n. [calósiti] Callosidad. Kalipakán, kalyo. Callous, adj. [cáles] Calloso. Malipak, kinakalyo. Callow, adj. [cálo] Pelado, desplumado. Walang balahibo, inalisan ng balahibo. Callus, n. [cálæs] Callo, dureza de alguna parte del cuerpo. Lipak, kalyo. Calm, n. [calm] Calma, serenidad, sociego. Katahimikan, kalamigan ng isip, hinahon, katiwasayan, kapalagayan ng loob. Calm, adj. [calm] Quieto, tranquilo, sosegado. Tahimik, mahinahon, tiwasay, palagay-loob. Calm, v. [calm] Calmar, tranquilizar, apaciguar. Tumahimik, huminahon, tumiwasay, pumayapà, humimpil, humumpay. Calmness, n. [cámnes] Tranquilidad, calma. Kapalagayan ng loob, kapanatagán, katahimikan, katiwasayán. Calmy, adj. [cámi] Tranquilo, pacífico. Panatag, palagay-loob tiwasay. Caloric, n. [calóric] Calórico. Nahihinggil sa init. Calorific, adj. [calorífic] Calorífico. Nauukol sa init. Calumniate, v. [calámniet] Calumniar. Magbintang, bintangan, magparatang. Calumniation, n. [caloemniécien] Calumnia. Bintang, paratang. Calumniator, n. [caloemnietoer] Calumniador. Ang nagbibintang, ang nagpaparatang. Calumniatory, adj. [calémnietori] Calumnioso, injurioso. Palabintang, mapagparatang. Calumny, n. [calémni] Calumnia, injuria. Paratang, bintang. Calve, v. [cav.] Parir la vaca. Manganák (ang baka ó kalabaw). Calyx, n. [cálics] Caliz. Mga dahon sa labas ng bulaklák. Cambist, n. [cámbist] Cambista. Mámamalit ng salapî. Cambric, n. [kémbric] Batista. Kambray. Camel, n. [cámel] Camello. Kamelyo. Camera, n. [cámera] Cámara fotográfica. Panguha ng retrato, tánawin, ibp. Camerade, n. [cámoeret] Camarada. Kasama. Camp, n. [camp] Campo; campamento. Parang; campamento himpilan ng mga kawal, páhingahan ng hukbo. Camp, v. [camp] Acampar, alojar un ejército. Magkampamento, humimpil (ang mga kawal), magpahinga (ang hukbó). Campaign, n. [campén] Campaña; campo razo. Pakikihamok, pakikilaban; lwal na dako. Camphire, n. [cámfoer] Alcanfor. Alkampor. Camphor, n. [cámfoer] Alcanfor. Alkampor. Camphor, v. [cámfoer] Alcanforar. Lagyan ng alkampor. Can, n. [can] Lata. Lata. Can, v. [can] Poder. Maka... , maarì. Canal, n. [canál] Canal. Pádaluyan ng tubig; bangbang. Canary, n. [canéri] Canario. Ibong kanaryo. Cancel, v. [cánsel] Cancelar. Walán ng bisà, iurong. Cancellation, n. [cancelécien] Cancelación. Pagpapawalâ ng bisà, pag-uurong. Cancer, n. [cánsoer] Cancer, tumor maligno. Kanser, kánkaro masamang bukol. Cancerous, adj. [cánsoeroes] Canceroso. Nauukol sa kanser. Candelabrum, n. [candelébræn] Candelabro. Kandelero, tirikán ng kandilà. Candent, adj. [cándent] Candente. Nagbabaga, nag-iinit. Candid, adj. [cándid] Cándido, sencillo. Mapaniwalain, musmos. Candidacy, n. [candídeci] Candidatura. Pagkakandidato. Candidate, n. [cándidet] Candidato, pretendiente, aspirante. Kandidato, naghahangad ng isang kalagayan. Candidly, adv. [cándidli] Candidamente, ingenuamente. Totoo, tunay, tapat. Candle, n. [cándl] Candela, vela. Kandilà. Candlestick, n. [cándlstic] Candelero. Tirikán ng kandilà, kandelero. Candlestuff, n. [cándlstæf] Sebo para hacer velas. Pagkit na ginagawang kandilà. Candlewick, n. [cándlwic] Pábilo. Mitsá ng kandilà. Candor, n. [cándoer] Candor, sinceridad, ingenuidad. Katapatan ng loob. Candy, n. [kéndi] Candy. Kendi, matamis. Cane, n. [keín] Caña, junco, baston. Kawayan, baston, tungkod. Cane, v. [keín] Apalear. Manghampas ng baston. Canine, adj. [canáin] Canino. Parang aso, nahihinggil sa aso. Canker, n. [cánkoer] Cancer. Kánkaro, bagâ ng suso. Cannibal, n. [cánibal] Caníbal, caribe, antropófago. Taong lumalamon ng kapwà tao. Cannibalism, n. [cánibalism] Canibalismo. Paglamon ng kapwà tao; kabalakyutan. Cannon, n. [cánoen] Cañón de artillería. Kanyón. Cannonade, n. [canonéd] Cañonazo, cañoneo. Panganganyon. Cannonade, v. [canonéd] Cañonear ó acañonear. Kumanyon, manganyon, magpaputok ng kanyon. Cannonball, n. [canoenbol] Bala de cañón. Bala ng kanyón. Cannoneer, n. [canoenír] Cañonero. Tagapagpaputók ng kanyon, mánganganyon. Cannoneer, v. [cánoenír] Cañonear. Kumanyon, magpaputok ng kanyon. Cannonshot, n. [canoensiot] Estallido del cañon. Putok ng kanyon. Cannot, [cánot] No poder. Walang kaya, dí maka... Canny, adj. [cáni] Sagaz; prudente. Tuso, matalinò; mabaít. Canoe, n. [canú] Canoa. Bangkâ. Canon, n. [cánoen] Canon; regla, ley, estatuto; lo que se paga en reconocimiento del dominio directo de algun terreno. Kanon ó aklat ng kapakanan ng mga Banal na Kasulatan; tuntunin, kautusan; ang pinaka bayad sa pagkilala ng talagang pagka may-arì ng alin mang lupà. Canonic, adj. [canónic] Canónico. Naaukol sa kanon. Canonical, adj. [canónical] Canónico. Nauukol sa kanon. Canonization, n. [canoenaizécien] Canonizacion. Pagpapalagay na santo ó banal sa kanino mang namatay. Canonize, v. [cánoenais] Canonizar. Ipalagay na santo ó banal ang sinomang namatay. Canopy, n. [cánopi] Docel, pabellon. Tabing, baldokan. Canopy, v. [cánopi] Endoselar. Ilagay na tabing. Cant, n. [cant] Jerigonza. Pananalitang tila awit; pananalitang malawig. Cant, v. [cant] Hablar en jerigonza. Magsalitâ ng tila paawít; magsalitâ ng malawig. Canteen, n. [cantín] Cantina, puesto en el campo donde se vende vino, etc.. Kantina, tindahan na nagbibilí ng alak, ibp. Canter, n. [cántær] Hipócrita; medio galope. Mapagpakunwâ; takbong paluksó. Canter, v. [cántær] Andar el caballo á paso largo y sentado. Pakarimuting maigi ang kabayo. Canthus, n. [cánzæs] Canto ó ángulo del ojo. Sulok ng matá. Canticle, n. [cánticl] Cántico ó cancion de Salomon. Awit ni Salomon. Canto, n. [cánto] Canto. Kánto, awit. Canvas, n. [cánvas] Cañamazo. Balindang. Canvass, n. [cánvas] El acto de solicitar votos para lograr algun destino. Paghanap ng mga boto sa ikápagkakaroon ng anomang destino ó kalagayan. Canvass, v. [cánvas] Solicitar votos para lograr algun destino. Humanap ng mga boto upang magkaroon ng destino ó kalagayan. Cany, adj. [kéni] Lleno de cañas. Mapunong kawayan, káwayanan. Cap, n. [cap] Gorra ó gorro. Gorra, tukarol. Cap, v. [cap] Cubrir la cabeza; saludar á uno, quitarse la gorra en señal de reverencia. Magtakip ng ulo; bumatì, mag-alis ng gorra na pinaka galang. Capability, n. [kepabíliti] Capacidad, aptitud. Kakayahan, kaya, abót. Capable, adj. [képabl] Capaz, idóneo, apto. May kaya, may abót, sapat. Capacious, adj. [capécies] Espacioso, extensivo, vasto, ancho. Maaliwalas, malwang, malwag, malawak. Capacitate, v. [capásitet] Habilitar, hacer capaz. Ariing may kaya, ariing sapat. Capacity, n. [capásity] Capacidad, cabida. Kasapatán, kakayahan. Cap-a-pie, adv. [cap-a-pí] De pies á cabeza. Magbuhat sa ulo hanggang sa paa. Caparison, n. [capárisæn] Caparason. Kasangkapan ng kabayo. Caparison, v. [capárisæn] Enjaezar un caballo. Maggayak ng kabayo. Cape-case, n. [cáp-kes] Saco, alforja. Kapa; sako, supot, bayong. Cape, n. [kep] Cabo, promontorio ó punta de tierra. Puntá ó ungos ng lupa. Caper, n. [képær] Cabriola, salto ó brinco. Likot; lundag, lukso, talón. Caper, v. [képær] Cabriolar, hacer cabriolas. Maglilikót; magluluksó. Caperer, n. [kápærær] Danzador, saltador. Sasayawsayaw, lúluksoluksó. Capital, adj. [cápital] Lo que pertenece á la cabeza. Nauukol sa ulo ó buhay. Capital, n. [cápital] Capital, la ciudad principal. Ang pangulong bayan. Capital, n. [cápital] Capital, fondo. Puhunan. Capital, n. [cápital] Mayuscula. Mayuscula ó malaking titik. Capitalist, n. [cápitalist] Capitalista. Mámumuhunan, ang namumuhunan. Capitalize, v. [cápitalais] Capitalizar. Mamuhunan. Capital letter, n. [cápital létter] Mayuscula. Titik na malaki ó mayuskula. Capitol, n. [cápitol] Capitolio. Bahay pámahalaan. Capitulate, v. [capítiulet] Capitular; escribir alguna cosa dividiendola en capítulos. Sumulat ng nababahagi sa pamamagitan ng mga kabanata. Capitulation, n [capitiulécien] Capitulacion, el acto de escribir por capítulos. Pagkasulat na nababahagi sa pamamagitan ng mga kabanata. Capon, n. [képen] Capon ó pollo castrado. Kapón. Caprice, n. [caprís] Capricho, extravagancia. Kapricho, katwang pagkaibig. Capricious, adj. [caprícies] Caprichoso, extravagante. Kaprichoso, makapricho, mapag-ibig ng katwâ. Capsicum, n. [cápsikem] Pimienta, pimentero. Pamintá. Capsize, v. [capsáiz] Trabucar, volcar, volver de arriba abajo. Magtaob, itaob, magtiwarik, itiwarik. Capsular, adj. [cápsiular] Capsular. Tila kápsula, hinggil sa kápsula. Capsule, n. [cápsiul] Cápsula. Kápsula. Captain, n. [cápten] Capitan. Kapitan, punò. Captaincy, n. [cáptensi] Capitanía. Pagkakapitan, pagkalagay na kapitan. Caption, n. [cápcien] Captura. Paghuli, pag-uusig. Captious, adj. [cápcies] Engañoso, caviloso. Magdarayà, sinungaling. Captivate, n. [cáptivet] Cautivar, atraer la voluntad. Bumihag; humalina ng kalooban. Captive, n. [cáptiv] Cautivo, prisionero. Bihag. Captive, v. [cáptiv] Cautivar. Bumihag, bihagin. Captivity, v. [captíviti] Cautiverio. Pagkabihag. Captor, n. [cáptoer] Apresador. Tagabihag. Capture, n. [cápchoer] Captura. Pamimihag, pag-uusig. Capture, v. [cápchoer] Capturar, apresar. Mamihag, humulí dumakip. Car, n. [car] Carro. Karro, kariton. Carabine, n. [cárabain] Carabina. Maiklìng baríl. Carabineer, n. [carabinír] Carabinero. Karabinero. Caracole, n. [cáracol] Caracól; escalera de caracol. Susô; hagdang sinusô. Caramel, n. [cáramel] Caramelitos. Karamelitos. Carat, n. [cárat] Quilate del oro. Kilates ng gintô. Carbolic, adj. [cárbolic] Carbólico. Karbóliko. Carbon, n. [cárbon] Carbon. Uling. Carbonaceous, adj. [carbonécies] Lo que contiene carbon. May halong uling. Carbonic, adj. [carbónic] Carbónico. Nahihinggil sa uling. Carbonize, v. [carbóniz] Carbonizar. Ulingin, papagulingin, gawing uling. Carbuncle, n. [cárbuncl] Carbunco, tumor puntiagudo y maligno. Masamang bukol. Carcass, n. [cárcas] Carcasa, cadaver. Bangkay. Card, n. [card] Naipe; tarjeta. Baraha; tarjeta. Card-board, n. [card-bord] Carton. Kartón. Cardiac, adj. [cárdiak] Cardiaco. Nahihinggil sa sakít sa pusò. Cardialgy, n. [cárdialdchi] Cardialgía. Sakít na nararamdaman sa sikmura at nakapagsisikip ng loob. Cardinal, adj. [cárdinal] Cardinal, principal. Una, pangulo. Cardinal, n. [cárdinal] Cardinal. Kardinal. Cardmaker, n. [cárdmeker] Fabricante de naipes. Manggagawá ng baraha. Card-party, n. [card-parti] El conjunto de los que juegan á algun juego de naipes. Sugalan. Care, n. [keír] Cuidado, cautela. Ingat, kalingâ. Care, v. [keír] Cuidar, tener cuidado. Mag-ingat, ingatan, kumalingâ, kalingain. Careen, v. [carín] Carenar ó dar carena al navio. Kumpunihín ang sirà ng sasakyan. Careful, adj. [kérful] Cuidadoso, cauteloso. Maingat, makalingâ. Carefully, adv. [kérfuli] Cuidadosamente. Na may pag-iingat. Carefulness, n. [kérfulnes] Cuidado, cautela, atencion. Ingat, kalingâ, lingap. Careless, adj. [kérles] Descuidado, negligente. Pabayâ, walang bahalà walang ingat. Carelessly, adv. [kérlesli] Descuidadamente. Na may pagpapabayâ. Carelessness, n. [kérlesnes] Descuido, negligencia, indiferencia. Kapabayaan, kawalán ng ingat. Career, n. [carír] Carrera, carrera abierta y tendida. Takbó, karimot. Career, v. [carír] Correr á carrera tendida. Kumarimot, tumakbó. Caress, n. [carés] Caricia, halago. Kalingâ, alindog. Caress, v. [carés] Acariciar, halagar. Kumalingâ, umalindog, palayawin, alindugin. Cargo, n. [cárgo] Cargamento de navio. Lulan ng sasakyan. Caricature, n. [caricachúr] Caricatura. Karikatura, larawang pangpatawá, pangtuyâ ó pangpuri. Caricature, v. [caricachúr] Hacer caricaturas. Gumuhit ng larawang hawig ng kaontî sa may katawan. Caricaturist, n. [caricachiúrist] El que hase caricaturas. Ang manggagawà ng karikatura. Cark, n. [carc] Cuidado. Ingat. Cark, v. [carc] Ser muy cuidadoso. Magpakaingat. Carle, n. [carl] Patan, rústico, hombre ruin. Taong hamak, taong walang tuto. Carman, n. [cárman] Cochero. Kuchero. Carminative, adj. [carmínetiv] Carminativo, lo que pertenece á los remedios contra los flatos. Carminativo, ang ukol sa gamót laban sa hangin na nasa loob ng katawan. Carmine, n. [cármain] Carmin. Kulay karmín. Carnage, n. [cárnedch] Carnicería; mortandad. Pámilihan ng karne; ang pátayan sa panahon ng digmà ó labanán. Carnal, adj. [cárnal] Carnal, sensual. Ang nauukol sa laman, ang nauukol sa kalayawan. Carnalist, n. [cárnalist] El que es lujurioso ó lascivo. Malibog. Carnality, n. [carnáliti] Carnalidad, sensualidad, lascivia. Pagkalamáng tao ó lupa, kalibugan. Carnation, n. [carnécien] Encarnacion. Pagkakatawang tao. Carneous, adj. [cárnies] Carnoso, cornudo. Malamán, matabâ. Carnival, n. [cárnival] Carnaval ó carnestolendas. Karnabal ó karnestolendas. Carnivorous, adj. [carnívoroes] Carnívoro. Mángangain ng karné. Carol, n. [cáreæl] Villancico de Noche Buena ó Navidad. Kantá ó awit sa Noche Buena ó Paskó. Carol, v. [cároel] Cantar. Kumantá ó umawit. Carousal, n. [caráusal] Festin; francachuela. Paghahandaan, pagkakatwâ, pagsasayahan, pagbibiruan. Carouse, n. [caráuz] Borrachera; jarana. Paglalasingan, pagkakaingay; panghaharana. Carouse, v. [caráuz] Jaranear, alborotar. Mangharana, magsayá, mag-ingay. Carp, n. [carp] Carpa, pescado de agua dulce. Bwanbwan. Carp, v. [carp] Censurar, criticar; vituperar. Pumuna, pumansin; pumintas, pumulà. Carpenter, n. [carpenter] Carpintero. Anlwagi, manggagawà ng bahay ó gusalì. Carpentry, n. [cárpentri] Carpintería. Pag-aanlwagi. Carper, n. [cárper] Regañon; censurador. Magagalitín; mapamintas. Carpet, n. [cárpet] Tapete de mesa; alfombra. Panakip sa dulang, panglatag sa sahig. Carpet, v. [cárpet] Alfombrar, entapizar. Maglatag sa sahig. Carpet-bag, n. [cárpet-bæg] Baulillo de viandante. Sako de byahe, tampipì. Carriage, n. [cár-redch] Coche, vehículo; porte, conduccion. Karwahe; pagdadalá. Carrier, n. [cárrier] Portador. Tagapagdalá. Carrion, n. [cár-rioen] Carroña, la carne corrompida. Karneng bulók, lamáng bulok. Carrion, adj. [cár-rioen] Mortecino, podrido. Bulok. Carry, v. [kéri] Llevar, conducir de una parte á otra. Magdalá. Carrying, n. [kériying] Porte, conduccion. Pagdadalá. Carry-tale, n. [cárritel] Chismoso, cuentista. Masatsat, mapagkwento. Cart, n. [cart] Carro, carreta. Kariton, karetela. Cart, v. [cart] Carretear, usar carros ó carretas. Ipagkariton, ipagkaretela. Cartage, n. [cártedch] Carretaje. Pagkakariton, pagkakaretela. Carter, n. [cárter] Carretero. Cochero. Cartoon, n. [cartún] Carton. Karton. Cartouche, n. [cartúch] Cartucho de balas. Kartucho na may punlô ó bala. Cartridge, n. [cártridch] Cartucho de pólvora. Kartuchong may pulburá. Carve, v. [carv] Esculpir, tallar, grabar. Magbubô ng larawan, lumilok, humugis ó humubog ng anomang anyong binubô. Carver, n. [cárver] Escultor, tallador, grabador. Mangbububô ng larawan, manglililok. Carving, n. [cárving] Escultura ó figuras esculpidas, talla. Larawang binubô, anyong nililok. Cascade, n. [caskéd] Cascada, despeñadero de agua. Lagaslas. Case, n. [keís] Estado, situacion; caja, estuche. Lagay, kalagayan, tayô; kahón, sisidlan. Case, v. [keís] Encajar. Isilid sa kahon. Cash, n. [cash] Dinero contante ó de contado; cajita ó cofrecillo para guardar el dinero. Salapî; munting sisidlán ng pilak. Cashbook, n. [cáshbuk] Libro de caja. Aklat na tálaan ng salaping naglalabas-pumasok sa kaha. Cashier, n. [kásher] Cajero. Kahero, ingat-yaman. Cashier, v. [kásher] Quitarle á uno de su empleo. Alisin sa katungkulan. Casing, n. [késing] Cobertura. Takíp. Cask, n. [cask] Barril, tonel. Bariles. Casket, n. [cásket] Cajita para joyas. Kahitang sisidlan ng hiyas. Casket, v. [cásket] Poner en cajita. Isilid sa kahita. Cassimere, n. [cázimir] Casimiro, tela de lana muy fina. Mainam na lana. Cassock, n. [cásoec] Balandran ó sotana. Sotana, bihisang mahabà. Cast, n. [cast] Tiro, golpe; ojeada; molde, forma; aire ó modo de presentarse. Hagis, pukól, tapon, tudlâ; sulyap; anyô; kilos. Cast, v. [cast] Tirar, arrojar, lanzar; modelar. Ihagis, ipukol, itapon; mag-anyô, magbubô. Castaway, n. [cástawe] Réprobo. Alibughâ, tapon. Caste, n. [cast] Casta; corporacion. Lahì; kapisanan. Caster, n. [cástoer] Tirador; adivino; fundidor; rueda con un eje formado de eslabones para rodar por todos lados. Manghahagis; manghuhulà; mangbububô; gulong na mabuti ang pagkaayos ng ehe, anopát náigugulong saan man ipaling. Castigate, v. [cástiguet] Castigar. Magparusa. Casting, n. [cásting] Fundicion. Pagbububô. Castle, n. [cásl] Castillo, fortaleza. Pánanggalangan sa digmà, kutà; gusaling matayog. Castle-builder, n. [cásl-bílder] Proyectista imaginario. Palaisip ng kahambugang dî mangyayari. Castor, n. [cástor] Castor; sombrero fino hecho del pelo de castor. Isang urì ng hayop na may apat na paa; sombrero na balahibo ng hayop ang ginamit. Castor oil, n [cástoer-oil] Aceite de Castor. Aseite de Kastor. Castrate, v. [cástret] Castrar, capar. Kapunín, gawing bating. Castration, n. [castrécien] Capadura. Pagkapon. Castrel, n. [cástrel] Especie del halcon. Lawin. Casual, adj. [cáziual] Casual, accidental. Nagkataon, hindì sinasadyâ. Casually, adv. [cásiuali] Casualmente, fortuitamente. Sa pagkakataon, na di sinasadyâ. Casualty, n. [cásiualti] Casualidad, aventura, accidente. Pagkakataon, pangyayari. Cat, n. [kæt] Gato. Pusà. Cataclysm, n. [cátaclizm] Cataclismo, diluvio. Sakunang nakagugunaw, paggunaw. Catacombs, n. [cátacomz] Catacumbas. Libingan ng mga martir sa ilalim ng lupà sa Roma. Catalepsy, n. [cátalepsi] Catalepsis. Himatay, kalagayang parang patay. Cataleptic, adj. [cátaleptic] Cataléptico. Nauukol sa himatay. Catalogue, n. [cátalog] Catálogo, lista ó memoria. Tálaan, tandaan. Catalogue, v. [cátalog] Poner en catálogo. Italâ sa tandaan ó tálaan. Catamenia, n. [catamínia] Menstruacion. Sakit sa panahon ng babae. Catamount, n. [cátamaunt] Gato pardo ó montés. Pusang bundok na tila tigre. Cataplasm, n. [cátaplazm] Cataplasma. Tapal. Catapult, n. [cátapult] Catapulta. Isang mákina noong unang panahon na ginagamit sa pakikidigmà. Cataract, n. [cátaract] Cascada, catarata. Malaking lagaslas. Catarrh, n. [catár] Catarro. Sipón. Catarrhal, adj. [catárral] Catarral. Nauukol sa sipón. Catastrophe, n. [catástrofi] Catástrofe, cosa infeliz y funesta. Sakunâ, malaking kapahamakán. Catcall, n. [kétcol] Silbo, reclamo. Daing, pag-aamò-amò, luhóg. Catch, n. [catch] Presa, captura. Huli, dakíp; agaw. Catch, v. [catch] Coger, arrebatar; alcanzar, atrapar. Humuli, hulihin, dumakip, dakpin; abutin; agawin; saluhín. Catcher, n. [cáchær] Cogedor. Tagasaló. Catching, n. [cáching] El acto de cojer. Pagsaló. Catching, adj. [cáching] Contagioso. Nakakahawa. Catchpenny, n. [cáchpeni] Engañifa. Dayà. Catchup, n. [kéchap] Salsa picante hecha de setas. Isang sawsawan. Catechise, v. [catekíz] Catequizar; examinar; instruir en los artículos fundamentales de la religion cristiana. Humikayat, lumitis; magturò ng mga aral ng relihion kristiana. Catechism, n. [cátekizm] Catecismo. Katecismo, aral kristiano. Categoric, adj. [categóric] Categórico. Pasiya ó palagay na patapós. Category, n. [cátegori] Categoría. Lagay, kalagayan. Cater, n. [kéter] Proveedor. Tagapaglaan, tagapagtaan. Cater, v. [kéter] Abastecer, proveer. Maglaan, magtaan. Caterer, n. [kéterer] Proveedor. Tagapaglaan, tagapagtaan. Caterpillar, n. [cáterpilar] Oruga. Isang urì ng uod. Caterwaul, v. [cáteruol] Maullar. Ngumiyaw. Caterwauling, n. [cátoerwoling] El maullido de muchos gatos juntos. Paglalampungan ng mga pusà. Cates, n. pl [kets] Vianda ó platos para la mesa. Ulam. Cat-eyed, adj. [kétaid] El que tiene ojos de gato. Bulagaw. Catfish, n. [kétfish] Una especie de pescado. Kandulì. Catgut, n. [kétgoet] Cuerda de violon ó guitarra. Kwerdas ng byolon ó gitarra. Cathartic, adj. [cazártic] Catártico. Pangpurgá. Cathartic, n. [cazártic] Catártico, medicina purgante. Purgá. Cathedral, n. [cazídral] Catedral. Katedral, pangulong simbahan. Catholic, adj. [cázolic] Católico. Katóliko, may kinalaman sa sangkalahatan. Catholicism, n. [cazólisizm] Catolicismo. Katolisismo. Catholicize, v. [cazólisaiz] Hacerse católico. Hikayating magíng katóliko. Catkin, n. [cátkin] Candeda de los árboles. Tiník. Catmint, n. [cátmint] Calaminta. Kabling. Catsup, n. [kétsap] Salsa de setas. Sawsawan. Cattle, n. [cátl] Ganado. Kawan ng baka. Caucus, n. [cókoes] Conventiculo ó junta secreta. Pag-uulungan upang makaganyak ng mga kalapì. Caudal, adj. [códal] Lo que pertenece á la cola. Nauukol sa buntot. Caudate, adj. [códet] Candato. May buntot. Caul, n. [col] Cofia, redecilla. Kayong nilambat na panakip ng ulo. Cause, n. [cos] Causa, razón, motivo, pretexto. Dahilan, sanghî, kadahilanan, bagay. Cause, v. [cos] Causar, excitar, producir algún efecto. Mapapangyari, pagkádahilanan, pagkásanghian. Causeless, adj. [cózles] Infundado, injusto. Walang kadahilanan. Causeway, n. [cózue] Arrecife; camino real. Malaking batong bagtasan sa tabí ng dagat; pangulong daan ó lansangan. Caustic, adj. [cóstic] Cáustico, lo que quema y destruye todo aquello á que se aplica. Nakapapasò, nakapagpapaltós. Caustic, n. [cóstic] Piedra infernal. Piedra inpernal, batong gamot na nakapapasò ó nakapagpapaltós. Cauterism, n. [cóterizm] Cauterizacion. Pamamasò, pagpasò. Cauterize, v. [cóterais] Cauterizar. Pumasò; pasuin. Caution, n. [cócien] Caucion, prudencia, precaucion, circunspeccion; aviso, advertencia. Ingat, bahalà, bait; páuna, paunawà. Caution, v. [cócien] Caucionar, precaver, advertir, amonestar. Ingatan, bahalaan, pagpáunahan, paunawaan. Cautionary, adj. [cócieneri] Caucionado. Nauukol sa ingat, sa bahalà, sa bait, sa páuna. Cautious, adj. [cócies] Cauto, circunspecto. Maingat, mabait. Cavalcade, n. [cavalkéd] Cabalgata. Prusisyon ng mga nangangabayo. Cavalier, n. [cavalír] Jinete. Nakasakay sa kabayo. Cavalier, adj. [cavalír] Caballeresco, bravo; altivo; desdeñoso. Matapang, mapagmataas. Cavalry, n. [cávalri] Caballería. Cabalyerya ó mga kawal na nagsisipangabayo. Cave, n. [keív] Caverna, antro, cualquier lugar subterraneo. Yungib, lunggâ. Cave, v. [keív] Habitar en cueva; excavar. Manahan sa yungib; humukay, tumibag. Caveat, n. [kéviat] Aviso, advertencia; notificacion [judicial]. Paunawà, páuna; patawag [ng hukuman]. Cavern, n. [cávern] Caverna, concavidad. Yungib, lunggâ. Cavernous, adj. [cávernes] Cavernoso. Nauukol sa yungib. Cavil, n. [cávil] Cavilacion, sofisteria. Kathâkathâ, bintang na dî totoo. Cavil, v. [cávil] Cavilar, criticar. Magkathâkathâ, magbintang ng dî totoo, mamintas. Caviller, n. [cáviler] Sofista, enredador. Mapagkathâkathâ, manggugulo. Cavity, n. [cáviti] Cavidad. Pwang, ukit, butas, hukay, bitak. Caw, v. [co] Graznar, crascitar. Umangal, umungal. Cayenne pepper, n. [caián péper] Pimenton. Paminton. Cease, v. [sis] Cesar, desistir; fenecer, acabarse; parar, suspender. Maglikat, magtigil; pumanaw, mawalâ; itigil, papaglikatin. Ceaseless, adj. [sísles] Incesante, perpetuo, perenne. Walang likat, walang pukat, walang tigil. Cedar, n. [sídar] Cedro. Sedro, isang kahoy na mahalagá. Cede, v. [side] Ceder, transferir. Pumayag; ibigay, ipagkaloob. Ceil, v. [sil] Cubrir ó techar con cielo raso. Magkísame, maglagay ng kísame. Ceiling, n. [síling] Techo ó cielo raso de una habitacion. Kísame. Celebrate, v. [sélebret] Celebrar, solemnizar. Magdiwan, magsayá, magdaos ng kasayahan. Celebrated, adj. [sélebreted] Célebre, famoso. Bunyî, bantog, balità. Celebration, n. [selebrécien] Celebracion. Pagdiriwan, pagsasayá. Celebrator, n. [sélebreter] Celebrador. Ang nagdidìwan, ang nagsasayá. Celebrity, n. [selébriti] Celebridad, reputacion. Kabunyian, kabantugan, kapurihan. Celerity, n. [séleriti] Celeridad, lijereza, rapidez. Kaliksihan, katulinan, kadalian. Celery, n. [séleri] Apio. Kinchay. Celestial, adj. [siléstial] Celestial, celeste. Nauukol sa langit, nauukol sa insik. Celibacy, n. [silíbasi] Celibato, soltería. Kalagayang walang asawa, pagkabinatà, pagkabagong-tao. Cell, n. [cel] Celda; nicho. Silid sa bilangguan, hadlang; butas na líbingan. Cellar, n. [sélær] Sótano, bodega. Bahagi ng bahay na nasa ilalim ng lupà, bodega, kamalig ng alak. Cellular, adj. [séliular] Celular. Butasbutás. Cement, n. [simént] Cimento, argamasa para pegar. Simento. Cement, v. [simént] Argamasar; estrechar, solidar. Tapalan ng argamasa; pagtibayin. Cemetery, n. [sémeteri] Cementerio. Líbingan. Censer, n. [sénser] Incensario. Súuban, pásingawan ng kamanyan. Censor, n. [sénsor] Censor. Tagapuná. Censorious, adj. [sensóries] Severo, rígido; crítico. Mapagpuná, mapagpansin. Censorship, n. [sénsership] Censura. Puná, pansin. Censurable, adj. [sensiúrabl] Censurable. Marapat pintasan. Censure, v. [sénciur] Censurar, criticar, juzgar. Pumuna; pumimtas; punahin; pansinin; pumansin; pintasan; humatol; hatulan. Censurer, n. [sénciurer] Censurador. Tagapuná, tagapansin. Census, n. [sénsus] Censo. Censo ó tálaan ng madlang bagay ng bayan ó bansâ. Cent, n. [sent] Céntimo. Ikasangdaang bahagi ng piso, séntimos. Centage ó per centage, n. [séntedch ó per séntedch] Tanto por ciento. Sanggayon sa bawa't sangdaan. Centenarian, n. [senténarian] Centenario. Ika sangdaang taón; taong may sangdaang taón. Centenary, n. [sénteneri] Centena, centenar. Tagal ng isang daang taón. Centennial, adj. [senténial] Centenario. Nauukol sa isang daang taón; pagdiriwan ng anoman sa pagkaganap ng sangdaang taón. Centesimal, adj. [sentésimal] Centésimo. Ikasangdaan. Centigrade, adj. [sentígræd] Centígrado ó que está dividido en cien grados. Ang nababahagi ng sangdaang grado. Centimeter, adj. [sentímeter] Centímetro ó la centésima parte del metro. Centímetro ó ikasangdaang bahagi ng metro. Centiped, n. [séntiped] Cientopies ó ciempiés; escolopendra. Alupihan; antipalo. Central, adj. [séntral] Central. Sa gitnâ, nauukol sa gitnâ. Centrality, n. [sentráliti] Centralidad. Kalagitnaan. Centralization, n. [sentralizécien] Centralizacion. Pagsasagitnâ. Centralize, v. [sentrálaiz] Centralizar. Isagitnâ, ipagitna. Centre, n. [sénter] Centro. Gitnâ. Centre, v. [sénter] Colocar en un centro, reconcentrar; colocarse en el centro, reconcentrarse. Ipagitnâ, isagitnâ; pagitnâ. Centric, adj. [séntric] Céntrico. Nágigitnâ. Centrical, adj [séntrical] Centrical. Nágigitna. Centrifugal, adj. [sentrífiugal] Centrífugo. Nakakaalis sa gitnâ. Centripetal, adj. [sentrípetal] Centrípeta. Nakapasasagitnâ. Centuple, adj. [séntiupl] Céntuplo. Makásangdaan. Centuple, v. [séntiupl] Centuplicar. Gawíng makásangdaan. Centuplicate, v. [sentiúpliket] Centuplicar. Gawíng makasangdaan. Century, n. [sénchiuri] Centuria, siglo. Sangdaang taón. Cephalalgy, n. [séfalaldchi] Cafalalgia ó toda clase de dolor de cabeza. Sarisaring sakít ng ulo. Cephalic, adj. [sifálic] Cefálico. Nauukol sa sarisaring sakít ng ulo. Cerate, n. [síret] Cerato ó composicion de cera, aceite y otros ingredientes. Pagkit. Cerated, adj. [síreted] Encerado. Nauukol sa pagkit. Cere, v. [sir] Encerar. Magpagkít; pagkitín. Cereals, n. pl. [séreials] Cereales ó planta ó frutos farináceos como el trigo, centeno, cebada, etc.. Sereales ó mga halamang gaya ng trigo, sebada; senteno, ibp. Cerebral, adj. [sérebral] Cerebral. Nauukol sa utak. Cerebrum, n. [sérebræm] Cerebro. Utak. Ceremonial, adj. [seremónial] Ceremonial. Nauukol sa mga kilos ó pagdiriwan na sang-ayon sa kautusan, palatuntunan ó kaugalian ng gayo't gayong simbahan ó kapanaligan, nauukol sa mga kilos ó pananalitâ na maraming pasikotsikot. Ceremonial, n. [seremónial] Ceremonial. Kilos ó pagdiriwan na sang-ayon sa kautusán, palatuntunan ó kaugalian ng gayo't gayong simbahan ó kapanaligan; kilos ó pananalitâ na maraming pasikotsikot. Ceremonious, adj. [seremónioes] Ceremonioso. Mapagsang-ayon sa kaugaliang maraming pasikotsikot. Ceremony, n. [séremoni] Ceremonia. Kaugaliang maraming pasikotsikot sang-ayon sa kalagayan ó kapanaligan. Cereous, adj. [sírioes] Cereoso. Mapagkit. Certain, adj. [sérten] Cierto, evidente, seguro. Tunay, totoo, maaasahan. Certainly, adv. [sértenli] Ciertamente, sin duda. Totoong..., walang pagsala. Certainty, n. [sértenti] Certeza, seguridad, certidumbre. Katunayan, katotohanan. Certificate, n. [soertífiket] Certificado, testimonio. Katibayan, katunayan, kasulatán. Certificate, v. [soertífiket] Certificar. Patunayan sa pamamagitan ng isang kasulatán. Certification, n. [sertifikésien] Certificado. Katibayan, kasulatan, katunayan. Certify, v. [sértifay] Certificar, afirmar. Patunayan; saksihan. Certitude, n. [sértitiud] Certidumbre, certeza. Katotohanan, katunayan. Cerulean, adj. [siriúlien] Cerúleo, azulado. Mabughaw, namumughaw. Cerulific, adj. [seriulífic] Lo que puede dar color cerúleo. Nakapagpapakulay bughaw ó asul. Ceruse, n. [sírius] Cerusa, albayalde. Albayalde, albayarde. Cerused, adj. [síriust] Cosa que tiene albayalde. May albayarde. Cervical, adj. [sérvical] Cervical. Nauukol sa batok. Cessation, n. [sesécien] Cesacion. Pagtigil, pagtatahán, paglilikat. Cession, n. [sécien] Cesion. Pagpapabayâ ó pagpaparayâ ó paglilipat sa iba ng tinatangkilik. Cesspool, n. [séspul] Cloaca, sumidero. Alulod ó pádaluyan ng maruming tubig sa bahay. Chafe, n. [chef] Acaloramiento, furor, cólera. Pag-iinit, poot, yamot. Chafe, v. [chef] Enojar, irritar; acalorarse, frotar. Mag-init, mapoot, mayamot; kuskusin upang mag-init, humagod, kumuskos. Chaff, n. [chaf] Zurrón, hollejo; paja. Supot na katad; ipá. Chaffer, v. [cháfær] Regatear, baratear. Tumawad, tawaran, baratahin. Chagrin, n. [chagrín] Mal humor, enfado, pesadumbre. Inip, yamot, gálit, panglaw, samâ ng loob. Chagrin, v. [chagrín] Enfadar; entristecer. Magalit, mayamot; mamanglaw. Chain, n. [cheín] Cadena. Tanikalâ. Chain, v. [cheín] Encadenar. Tanikalaan, talian ng tanikalâ. Chair, n. [cheír] Silla. Silya, likmuan, úpuan, luklukan. Chairman, n. [cheírman] Presidente. Pangulo. Chaise, n. [chez] Coche. Karwahe. Chaldron, n. [cháldræn] Chaldrón. Takal ng uling na may pitong pung aroba. Chalice, n. [chális] Caliz. Kalis, kupon ó kopang ginagamit ng parì sa misa. Chalk, n. [choc] Yeso. Yeso. Chalk, v. [choc] Dibujar con yeso. Sumulat sa pamamagitan ng yeso. Challenge, n. [chaléndch] Desafio, recusacion. Hamon, balà. Challenge, v. [chaléndch] Desafiar, recusar. Humamon; magbalà; hamunin; pagbaláan. Challenger, n. [chálendcher] Desafiador, duelista. Ang nanghahamon. Chamber, n. [chémbær] Cámara, cuarto, aposento. Silíd, kwarto. Chamber-council, n. [chémbær-cáuncil] Comunicacion confidencial; consejo secreto. Panayan na lihim; sangguning lihim. Chamber-council, n. [chémbær-cáuncil] Jurisconsulto, abogado. Abogado, sanggunian sa pamamalakad ng kautusan. Chamberlain, n. [chámberlin] Camarero. Kamarero, katiwalà sa kamara ó silid. Chamber maid, n. [chémbærmed] Moza de camara. Alilang babae na katiwalà sa silid. Chamber pot, n. [chémbær-pot] Orinal. Orinola, ibîan. Chameleon, n. [camílien] Camaleon. Hunyangò. Chamfer, n. [chámfær] Arruga. Kulubót. Chamfer, v. [chámfær] Arrugar. Pangulubutin. Champ, v. [champ] Morder; mascar. Kumagat; ngumuyâ. Champagne, n. [champén] Vino de Champaña. Champan, alak sa Champaña. Champaign, adj. [champén] Abierto ó llano. Lwal, malawak. Champaign, n. [champén] Campiña, llanura. Parang, dakong lwal. Champion, n. [chámpien] Campeon; héroe. Bayani. Championship, n. [chámpienship] Campeonaje. Pamamayani. Chance, n. [chans] Fortuna, suerte, ventura. Palad, kapalaran, pagkakataon. Chance, v. [chans] Acaecer, suceder. Mangyari, magkátaon. Chancel, n. [chánsel] Presbiterio en la iglesia. Dako ng dambanà sa simbahan. Chancellor, n. [chánselær] Canciller; ministro de justicia. Kansilyer; tagapangasiwà ng hukuman. Chancre, n. [chánkær] Cancer; úlcera venérea. Kanser; masamang búkol. Chandelier, n. [chandelír] Araña de luces; candelero. Aranya ng mga ilawan; tirikan ng mga kandilà. Chandler, n. [chándlær] Cerero ó velero. Magkakándilâ; manggagawà ng kandilà. Chandlery, n. [chándlæri] Cerería. Gáwaan ó tindahan ng kandilà. Change, n. [chendch] Mudanza, variedad; cambio. Pagbabago, pagpapalit, paghalili, pag-iibá; sukli. Change, v. [chendeh] Mudar, variar; cambiar. Magbago; magpalit; maghalili; mag-ibá; magsuklî. Changeable, adj. [chéndchebl] Mudable, variable; voluble. Nababago, nag-iibá; salawahan. Changeless, adj. [chénchles] Inmutable. Dî nagbabago, di nag-iibá. Channel, n. [chánel] Canal. Bangbang. Channel, v. [chánel] Acanalar. Bangbangan, magbangbang. Chant, n. [chant] Canto. Awit. Chant, v. [chant] Cantar. Umawit. Chanticleer, n. [chánticlir] El gallo. Ang manok. Chaos, n. [kéos] Caos; confusion, desorden. Guló, walang tuos, walang ayos. Chaotic, adj. [kéotic] Confuso, irregular. Magulo, walang ayos. Chap, n. [chap] Mozo; muchacho; grieta, abertura, hendidura; mandíbula. Kasama, batang lalake; bitak, gwang; pangá, sihang. Chapel, n. [chápel] Capilla. Kapilya, munting simbahan. Chaperon, n. [chápæron] Caperusa. Tila bonete. Chapiter, n. [chápitær] Capitel. Pinaka corona sa ulo ng halige. Chaplain, n. [cháplen] Capellan. Kapelyan, parè ó pastor ng mga sundalo ó kawal. Chaplet, n. [cháplet] Guirnalda, rosario. Kwintas, rosaryo. Chapman, n. [chápman] Traficante. Mángangalakal. Chapter, n. [cháptær] Capítulo. Pangkat, kabanata. Char, n. [char] Jornal; trabajo á jornal. Pinag-arawán; aráw. Char, v. [char] Hacer carbon de leña; trabajar á jornal. Mag-uling ng kahoy; mag-araw. Character, n. [cáractær] Caracter; forma de la letra. Likas, asal; anyô ng titik. Characteristic, adj. [característic] Característico. Likas na....., gawing.... Characteristic, n. [característic] Característico. Kalikasan, kaugalian. Characterize, v. [cáracteraiz] Caracterizar. Itangì. Charade, n. [charéd] Charada. Bugtóng, bugtungan. Charcoal, n. [chárcol] Carbon de leña. Uling na kahoy. Charge, n. [chardch] Cargo, cuidado; orden, comision; acusacion; costo, gasto. Bilin, tagubilin; ingat; sakdal, sumbong; paratang; hingî, pahalagá. Charge, v. [chardch] Encargar, comisionar; acusar, imputar; pedir. Magbilin, magtagubilin; magsakdal, magparatang; humingî, sumingil. Chargeable, adj. [chárdchabl] Dispendioso; acusable. Masísingil; máisasakdal. Charger, n. [chárdcher] Fuente ó plato grande; caballo criado para la guerra. Pinggang malaki; kabayong pangdigmà. Chariness, n. [chárines] Cautela, precaucion. Ingat, bait. Chariot, n. [cháriot] Carro. Karro [na gamit sa digmà]. Charitable, adj. [cháritabl] Caritativo, benigno, clemente; limosnero. Mahabagin, maawain, magandang-loob; mapaglimos. Charity, n. [cháriti] Caridad, benevolencia; limosna. Kaawaang-gawâ, kagandahan-loob; limos. Charlatan, n. [chárlatan] Charlatan. Masatsát. Charm, n. [charm] Encanto, atractivo. Kahalíhalina, kaayaaya; nakapagpapanggilalás. Charm, v. [charm] Encantar, embelesar, atraer; hechizar. Humalina, tumawag ng kalooban; magpapanggilalás. Charmer, n. [chármer] Encantador. Ang gumagawâ ng mga kagilagilalas na bagay; ang nakahahalina ng loob. Charming, adj. [chárming] Encantador, agradable, pasmoso. Kahalihalina, kalugod-lugod, kagilagilalás. Chart, n. [chart] Carta de navegar. Mapa sa pagdadagat. Charter, n. [chárter] Escritura auténtica, cédula, título, privilegio; carta constitucional. Katibayan, kasulatang patotoo; kapahintulutan ng pámahalaan; kasulatang pinagkayarian. Charter, v. [chárter] Fletar un buque. Umupa ng sasakyan sa tubig. Chary, adj. [chári] Cuidadoso, cauteloso; económico. Maingat; maimót. Chase, n. [ches] Caza. Panghuhuli ng mga hayop gubat, pangangaso. Chase, v. [ches] Cazar; perseguir. Manghuli ng hayop-gubat, mangaso; humabol, manghabol. Chaser, n. [chéser] Cazador. Manghuhuli ng hayop-gubat, mángangaso. Chasm, n. [cazm] Hendidura, grieta, abertura. Gwang, bitak, pwang. Chaste, adj. [chest] Casto, puro; modesto, honesto. Malinis, wagas; mahinahon, mabait. Chasten, v. [chésn] Depurar. Linisin, dalisayin. Chasteness, n. [chéstnes] Pureza, castidad. Kalinisan, kawagasan. Chastise, v. [chastáiz] Castigar, corregir. Magparusa. Chastisement, n. [chástizment] Castigo, pena. Parusa. Chastity, n. [chástiti] Castidad, pureza. Kalinisan, kawagasan. Chat, n. [chat] Charla, locuacidad. Satsatan, sálitaan. Chat, v. [chat] Charlar, parlotear. Sumatsat, magsasalitâ. Chattel, n. [chátel] Bienes muebles. Pag-aaring kasangkapan. Chatter, n. [cháter] Chirrido; charla. Haginít, haging; salitâ, satsat. Chatter, v. [cháter] Cotorrear, rechinar; charlar, parlotear. Humaginít, humaging; sumatsat, magsasalitâ. Chatterbox, n. [cháterbacs] Parlero, hablador. Masalitâ, masatsat. Chatty, adj. [cháti] Locuaz, parlanchin. Masalitâ, palausap. Chaw, n. [cho] Mandíbula. Pangá. Chaw, v. [cho] Mascar, masticar. Ngumuyâ, ngumatâ. Cheap, adj. [chip] Barato. Mura. Cheapen, v. [chípn] Regatear, baratear. Pamurahin, báratahin. Cheaply, adv. [chípli] Á poco precio. May kamurahan. Cheapness, n. [chípnes] Baratura. Kamurahan. Cheat, n. [chit] Trampa; fraude, engaño; trampista. Laláng, patibong; hibô, dayà; magdarayà, switik, mánunubà. Cheat, v. [chit] Engañar, defraudar; trampear. Magdayà; manwitik; manubà. Check, n. [chec] Cheque. Cheke. Check, v. [chec] Reprimir, refrenar. Pumigil, umampat. Cheek, n. [chic] Carrillo, mejilla. Pisngí. Cheer, n. [chir] Alegria, aplauso. Pagkakatwâ; paghihiyawan ng papuri. Cheer, v. [chir] Alegrarse, aplaudir. Magkatwâ; humiyaw ng papuri. Cheerful, adj. [chírful] Alegre, vivo, placentero, jovial. Masayá, matwain. Cheerfulness, n. [chírfulnes] Alegría; buen humor, júbilo. Sayá, galaw ng kalooban. Cheerless, adj. [chirles] Triste, melancólico. Malungkot, mapanglaw. Cheese, n. [chiz] Queso. Keso. Cheese-monger, n. [chíz-manguer] Quesero. Magkekesó. Chemical, adj. [kémical] Químico. Nauukol sa kímika. Chemise, n. [chemís] Camisa; camisa de mujer. Barò, kamisón. Chemist, n. [kemist] Químico. Marunong ng kímika. Chemistry, n. [kémistri] Química. Isang karunungan sa paghihiwalay ng mga bagaybagay ng katalagahan. Cheque, n. [chéke] Cheque. Cheke. Cherish, v. [chérish] Criar, mantener, fomentar; preservar; apreciar, estimar. Alagaan, pag-ingatan; palayawin. Cheroot, n. [cherút] Manilla, especie de cigarro. Isang urì ó klase ng tabako. Cherry, n. [chér-ri] Cereza. Seresas. Cherub, n. [chéroeb] Querubin. Kerubin, isang uri ng mga anghél. Chess, n. [ches] El juego del ajedrez. Larong alhedrés. Chest, n. [chest] Pecho; arca, caja de madera. Dibdib; kaban; kahon. Chestnut, n. [chésnoet] Castaña. Kastanyas. Chevalier, n. [chevalír] Caballero. Mánanakay sa kabayo. Chew, v. [chú] Mascar, masticar. Ngumuyâ, ngumatâ. Chewing, n. [chúing] Masticacion. Nguyâ, pagnguyâ; ngatâ, pagngatâ. Chick, n. [chic] Pollo, polluelo. Sisiw. Chicken, n. [chíken] Pollo, polluelo. Sisiw; manok. Chicken-hearted, n. [chíken-jarted] Cobarde, medroso. Dwag, matatakutín. Chicken-pox, n. [chíken-pacs] Viruelas locas. Bulutong tubig. Chickpea, n. [chicpi] Garbanzo. Garbansos. Chide, v. [cháid] Reprobar, culpar; regañar, reñir. Sumisi, sisihin; bigyangsala, kagalitan, kaalitan. Chief, adj. [chif] Principal, capital, eminente. Pangulong..., pangunang..., malaking..., singkad.... Chief, n. [chif] Jefe, principal. Punò, pangulo. Chiefly, adv. [chífli] Principalmente, sobre todo. Nangungulong..., nangungunang..., singkad. Chieftain, n. [chíften] Jefe, comandante; caudillo, capitan. Punò, pangulong kawal. Chilblains, n. [chílblens] Sabañones. Pamamantal na sanghî sa ginaw, alipunga. Child, n. [cháild] Infante; hijo ó hija. Batà; anák. Childhood, n. [cháildjud] Infancia, niñez. Pagkabatà, kabataan. Childish, adj. [cháildish] Frívolo, pueril. Parang batà, ugaling batà. Childless, adj. [cháildles] Sin hijos. Walang anak. Childlike, adj. [cháildlaik] Pueril. Parang batà, tila batà, ugaling batà. Children, n. pl. [chíldren] Niños; hijos ó hijas. Mga bata; mga anák. Chill, n. [chil] Escalofrio; frio. Ngiki; ginaw. Chill, v. [chil] Escalofriarse; enfriar. Ngikihin; maginaw. Chilly, adj. [chíli] Friolento. Maginaw. Chime, n. [cháim] Armonía, consonancia. Pagkakatugma. Chime, v. [cháim] Sonar con armonía. Mátugmâ, itugmâ. Chimera, n. [kimíra] Quimera. Sigalót, káalitan. Chimerical, adj. [kimérical] Quimérico. Magugunihín. Chimney, n. [chímni] Chimenea. Chimenea, bungbong ó butas sa labas ng bubungan na pálabasan ng usok. Chin, n. [chin] Barba. Babà. China, n. [cháina] China. China, kainsikan, sungsong. Chincough, n. [chíncaf] Tos convulsiva. Ubong malakas. Chine, n. [cháin] Espinaso. Gulugod. Chinese, adj. [cháinis] Chino, a. Bagay sa kainsikan. Chink, n. [chink] Grieta, hendidura. Bitak, gwang. Chink, v. [chink] Henderse, abrirse. Pumwang, gumwang. Chinese, n. [cháinis] Chino, natural de China. Insík. Chip, n. [chip] Brizna, astilla. Tatal, pingas, tapyas. Chip, v. [chip] Desmenuzar. Tapyasin, pingasin. Chipping, n. [chíping] Brizna. Pananatal. Chiromancer, n. [káiromansær] Quirómantico. Manghuhulà sa pamamagitan ng palad ng kamay. Chiromancy, n. [káiromansi] Quiromancia. Panghuhulà sa pamamagitan ng palad ng kamay. Chirp, n. [chærp] Chirrido, graznido. Siyap, huni. Chirp, v. [chærp] Chirriar, gorjear. Sumiyap, humuni. Chirping, n. [chærping] Canto de las aves. Huni. Chisel, n. [chízel] Escoplo ó cincel. Pait, lukob. Chisel, v. [chízel] Escoplear, cincelar, esculpir, grabar. Magpait, maglukob, lumilok. Chit, n. [chit] Infante, niño; tallo; peca en la cara. Batà; supling; pekas. Chit-chat, n. [chítchat] Charla. Satsat, daldal. Chitty, adj. [chíti] Pueril; pecoso. Ugaling bata; mapekás, pékasin. Chivalric, adj. [chívalric] Caballeresco. Ugaling mahal, asal ginoo. Chivalrous, adj. [chívalræs] Caballeresco. Ugaling mahal, asal ginoo. Chivalry, n. [chívalri] Caballería, hazaña, proeza. Pagkaginoo; asal. Chives, n. [cháivz] Cebolleta. Munting sibuyas. Chloroform, n. [klóroform] Cloroformo. Kloroformo, [isang gamot na pangpatulog]. Chock, n. [choc] Choque, encuentro. Banggâ, umpog, ságupaan. Chocolate, n. [chócolet] Chocolate. Chocolate, sikulate. Choice, adj. [chóis] Escogido, selecto, excelente. Pilì, hirang, mainam. Choice, n. [chóis] Escogimiento, elección. Pilì, hirang. Choir, n. [cuáir] Coro. Koro. Choke, v. [choc] Ahogar, sufocar. Uminis, inisin, hwag pahingahin. Choler, n. [cólær] Ira, enojo. Galit, poot. Cholera, n. [cólera] Cólera. Kólera. Choose, v. [chuz] Escoger, eligir. Pumilì, humirang. Chop, n. [chop] Porcion, parte; tajada de carne. Bahagi, lapang, putol, limpak, isang putol na karné. Chop, v. [chop] Tajar, cortar, picar. Pumutol, putulin; humiwà, hiwain, lumimpak, lumapang; tumadtad. Chopper, n. [chópær] Cuchillo de carnicero. Panghiwà ó panglapang ng karné. Chopping-knife, n. [chóping-náif] Cuchilla, tajadera. Panghiwà ó panglapang ng karné. Choral, adj. [córal] Coral. Nauukol sa coro. Chord, n. [cord] Cuerda. Kwerdas; lubid, panalí. Chord, v. [cord] Encordar. Magkwerdas, kwerdasan. Chorist, n. [córist] Corista. Korista, mangkakantá. Chorister, n. [córistær] Corista. Korista, mangkakantá. Chorus, n. [córæs] Coro. Pulutong ng mga mangkakantá. Christ, n. [cráist] Cristo. Kristo. Christen, v. [crísn] Cristianar, bautizar. Kristyanuhin, binyagan sa pananalig kristyano. Christendom, n. [crísndæm] Cristianismo, cristiandad. Kakristyanuhan. Christian, n. & adj. [crístian] Cristiano. Kristyano, kampon ni Kristo. Christianity, n. [cristiániti] Cristianismo. Kakristyanuhan. Christianize, v. [cristiánaiz] Cristianizar. Papagkristyanuhin, maging alagad ni kristo. Christmas, n. [crísmas] Navidad, natividad. Paskó, kapanganakan sa Pg. Hesu-Kristo. Christmas-box, n. [crísmas-backs] Cajita ó arquilla para recoger el aguinaldo. Kahitang ipinangsasahod ng aginaldo. Christmas-eve, n. [crísmas-iv] Víspera de Navidad. Bispirás ng paskó. Chromatic, adj. [cromátic] Cromático. Nauukol sa mga wangkíng tiníg ng tugtugín. Chromium, n. [crómiæm] Cromio ó croma. Metal na maputî at matigas. Chronic, adj. [crónic] Crónico. Talamak, mahirap ng lunasan. Chronical, adj. [crónical] Crónico. Talamak, mahirap ng lunasan. Chronicle, n. [crónicl] Crónica. Kasaysayan ng nangyari sa panapanahon. Chronicler, n. [cróniclær] Cronista. Mánanalaysay ng nangyari sa panapanahon. Chronogram, n. [crónogram] Cronógrama. Mga titik na nagsasalaysay ng pagkakapangyari ng gayo't gayon. Chronographer, n. [cronógrafer] Cronologista. Ang marunong tumuos ng mga panahon. Chronography, n. [cronógrafi] Cronografía. Karunungan sa pagtuos ng mga panahon. Chronologer, n. [cronólodcher] Cronologista. Ang marunong tumuos ng mga panahon. Chronologist, n. [cronólodchist] Cronologista. Ang marunong tumuos ng mga panahon. Chronology, n. [cronólodchi] Cronología. Karunungan sa pagtuos ng mga panahon. Chronometer, n. [cronómeter] Cronómetro. Kronómetro, isang mabuting relos ó orasán na nagsasaysay ng higit sa karaniwan. Chub, n. [chæb] Gobio. Halubaybay. Chubby, adj. [chábi] Gordo, cariacho. Matabâ, malaking mukhâ. Chuck, n. [chæc] Cloqueo. Putak ng manok. Chuck, v. [chæc] Cloquear. Magpuputák. Chuckle, v. [chécl] Reirse á carcajadas. Humalakhak, tumawa ng malakas. Chum, n. [chæm] Camarada, condiscípulo. Kasama, kalaguyò, kaulayaw. Church, n. [charch] Iglesia, templo. Iglesya, simbahan. Churchman, n [chárchman] Sacerdote, eclasiástico. Paré, taong simbahan. Churchwarden, n. [chárchworden] Mayordomo de la iglesia. Katiwalà sa sinbahan, piskal ng simbahan. Churchyard, n. [chárchyard] Patio de la iglesia. Patyo ng simbahan, ang loobán sa labas ng simbahan. Churl, n. [choerl] Patán, rústico, hombre ruin. Taong bukid, taong bastos, taong masamang asal. Churlish, adj. [choerlish] Rústico, grosero; tacaño. Bastos; maramot. Churn, n. [choern] Mantequero. Kasangkapang panghiwalay ng tabâ sa gatas. Churn, v. [choern] Batir la leche para hacer manteca. Batihín ang gatas upang gawíng mantekilya. Cicatrice, n. [sícatris] Cicatriz. Piklát. Cicatrice, v. [sícatraiz] Cicatrizar. Pumiklat. Cider, n. [sáider] Sidra, bebida hecha del zumo de manzanas. Katas ng mansanas. Cigar, n. [sigár] Cigarro. Tabako. Cigarette, n. [sígaret] Cigarrillo. Sigarilyo. Cilia, n. [sília] Pestaña. Pilikmatá. Ciliary, adj. [síliari] Lo que pertenece á pestaña. Nauukol sa pilikmatá. Cinder, n. [sínder] Carbon; ceniza gruesa caliente. Ulíng; namumuong abong mainit. Cinnamon, n. [sinamoen] Canela. Kanela. Cion, n. [sáien] Pimpollo, ingerto. Usbóng, suplíng, suwí. Cipher, n. [sáifer] Cifra. Titik na bilang. Cipher, v. [sáifer] Numerar, cifrar, calcular. Bilangin, tuusín, kuruin. Circle, n. [sircl] Círculo. Bilog, kabilugan. Circle, v. [sírcl] Circundar, rodear. Ikutan; umikot, lumigid. Circlet, v. [sírclet] Círculo pequeño. Munting bilog. Circuit, n. [sérkit] Circuito, círculo. Ikot, pihit. Circuit, v. [sírkit] Moverse circularmente. Umikot, pumihit. Circuitous, adj. [serkiúites] Tortuoso. Paikót. Circular, adj. [sírkiular] Circular, redondo. Mabilog. Circular, n. [sírkiular] Carta circular. Liham na patalastas. Circulate, v. [sírkiulet] Cercar, circundar; circular. Ligirin; ipatalastas sa pamamagitan ng liham. Circulation, n. [sírkiulésion] Circulacion. Pagkakalat, pagkalaganap. Circumference, n. [sirkémferens] Circumferencia. Bilog, kabilugan. Circumflex, n. [sirkémflecs] Acento circunflejo. Tudlít na tila salakot. Circumlocution, n. [soerkoemlokiúsien] Circunlocucion ó rodeo de palabras. Pagpapasikotsikot ng salitâ. Circumnavigate, v. [soerkoemnáviguet] Circumnavegar. Ligirin ang sangdaigdig. Circumnavigation, n. [soerkoemnáviguesioen] Circumnavegacion. Paglalayag sa paligid ng sangdaigdig. Circumscribe, v. [soerkoemscráib] Circunscribir. Kulungin ng pabilóg, paligiran ng guhit. Circumscription, n. [soerkoemscrípcien] Circunscripcion. Pagkapalibid. Circumspect, adj. [sérkoemspect] Circunspecto, prudente, discreto, recatado. Mahinahon, mabait, banayad. Circumspection, n. [serkemspéccien] Circunspeccion, prudencia, reserva. Hinahon, bait. Circumstance, n. [sérkémstans] Circunstancia, incidente. Pangyayari. Circumstantial, adj. [sérkemstancial] Accidental. Pagkakátaon. Circumvent, v. [sérkémvent] Entrampar, enredar. Magdayà, manglitó. Circumvention, n. [sérkémvencion] Engaño, trampa. Dayà, pagdarayà. Circus, n. [sérkes] Circo. Sirko. Cistern, n. [sístern] Cisterna, algibe. Tipunan ng tubig. Citadel, n. [sítadel] Ciudadela, fortaleza. Kutà ng bayan. Citation, n. [sitécien] Citation, cita. Tawag na humarap sa gayong araw at oras, pagpapaharap. Cite, v. [sáit] Citar á juicio; referirse á. Paharapin sa paglilitis; banggitin, tukuyin. Citizen, n. [sítizn] Ciudadano. Mámamayan. Citizenship, n. [sítiznship] Ciudadanía. Pagkamámamayan. Citric, adj. [sítric] Citrico. Nauukol sa dayap ó limon. City, n. [síti] Ciudad. Pangulong bayan, bayan. Civic, adj. [sívic] Cívico. Nauukol sa bayan. Civil, adj. [sívil] Civil; cortes, atento, urbano. Mabuting mámamayan; mabait, magalang, mapagpitagan. Civilian, n. [sivílian] Paisano; jurisconsulto. Paisano ó hindí sundalo; sanggunian sa kautusan. Civility, n. [sivíliti] Civilidad, urbanidad, cortesía. Kabutihan sa pamamayan, kabaitan, galang, pitagan. Civilization, n. [sivilizécien] Civilizacion. Kabihasnan, sibilisasyón. Civilize, v. [sívilaiz] Civilizar, instruir. Sanayin, turuan, bihasahin. Civilized, adj. [siviláizd] Civilizado, instruido. Sanay, marunong, bihasá. Clack, n. [clac] Ruido continuo y agudo; zumbido; parlería; charlataneria. Nakapangingiló; haginít; satsat, daldal. Clack, v. [clac] Concerrear, crujir; zumbar; charlar. Magpangiló; humaginit; sumatsat, dumaldal. Clad, adj. [clad] Vestido, aderezado. Nakapanamit, bihís. Claim, n. [cleím] Pretension; demanda. Hilíng; sakdal. Claim, v. [cleím] Pretender, pedir; demandar. Humilíng, humingî; magsakdal. Claimant, n. [clémant] Demandante. Ang nagsasakdal. Clam, v. [clam] Empastar, pegar. Pastahan, idikit. Clamber, v. [clámber] Gatear, trepar. Mangukyabít. Clammy, adj. [clámi] Viscoso, pegajoso. Malagkit, naninikit. Clamor, n. [clámoer] Clamor, vociferacion. Kaingay, híyawan, hinugong. Clamor, v. [clámoer] Vociferar, gritar. Mag-ingay, humiyaw. Clamorous, adj. [clámoeroes] Clamoroso, ruidoso, estrepitoso. Maingay, mahugong. Clamp, n. [clamp] Empalmadura. Panugpong. Clamp, v. [clamp] Empalmar. Isugpong. Clan, n. [clan] Familia, tribo, casta, raza; reunion de muchas personas; sekta. Angkan, lipì, lahì; pulutong; sekta ó kapisanan ng gayo't gayong pananalig. Clandestine, adj. [clandéstin] Clandestino, secreto. Lihim, lingíd, tagô, kublí. Clang, n. [clang] Rechino. Alatiit. Clang, v. [clang] Rechinar. Tumunog, tumaginting. Clangour, n. [clánguoer] Rechinamiento. Alatiit. Clangous, adj. [clánguoes] Ruidoso. Maingay, maalatiit. Clank, n. [clanc] Ruido, rechino. Ingay, alatiit. Clank, v. [clanc] Hacer ruido, rechinar. Mag-ingay, umalatiit. Clap, n. [clap] Estrépito, golpe. Lagapak, pagakpak. Clap, v. [clap] Batir, golpear. Lumagapak, pumagakpak. Clapping, n. [cláping] Palmoteo. Pakpakan. Clap-trap, n. [cláp-trap] Lance de teatro. Pakpakang may taglay na hibò ó dayà. Claret, n. [cláret] Clarete, vino tinto ó rojo. Tinto. Clarification, n. [clarifikécien] Clarificacion. Paglilinaw. Clarify, v. [clarífai] Clarificar, aclarar. Linawin, liwanagin. Clarinet, n. [clárinet] Clarinete. Klarinete. Clarion, n. [clárien] Clarin. Klarin, patunog. Clash, n. [clash] Rechino, crujido. Alatiit, lagitik. Clash, v. [clash] Rechinar, crujir; encontrarse. Umalatiit, lumagitik; umumpog, bumanggâ. Clasp, n. [clasp] Broche, hebilla; abrazo. Kawing, pangsará ng damit; yakap, yapos. Clasp, v. [clasp] Abrochar; abrazar. Ikawing, isará; yumakap, yumapos. Class, n. [class] Clase, orden. Klase, urì, ayos. Class, v. [clas] Clasificar, ordenar. Uriin, ayusin. Classical, adj. [clásical] Clásico. Akdang mainam. Classification, n. [clasifikécien] Clasificacion. Paglalagay sa karampatan, paglalagay sa ayos. Classify, v. [clásifai] Clasificar. Uriin, ilagay sa ayos, ilagay sa karampatan. Classmate, n. [clásmet] Condiscípulo. Kasama sa pagaaral. Clatter, n. [clátær] Ruido, estruendo, gresca, alboroto, bulla y confusion. Ingay, hugong, guló, kalog. Clatter, v. [clátær] Resonar, hacer ruido. Tumunog, humugong. Clause, n. [cloús] Cláusula; artículo. Pangkat; talatà. Claustral, adj. [clóstral] Claustral. Nauukol sa gayo't gayong pangkatin ng kapanaligan. Clavicle, n. [clávicl] Clavícula. Buto ng leeg. Claw, n. [clo] Garra, garfa. Kuko ng hayop, pangalmót. Claw, v. [clo] Desgarrar, arañar. Mangalmot. Clay, n. [cleí] Arcilla, tierra crasa y pegajosa. Lupang malagkit. Clayey, adj. [cleí] Arcilloso. Malupang malagkit. Clean, adj. [clin] Limpio, aseado. Malinis, makinis. Clean, v. [clin] Limpiar, asear. Maglinis, linisin. Cleanliness, n. [clínlines] Limpieza, aseo. Linis, kalinisan, kinis, kakinisan. Cleanly, adv. [clínli] Primorosamente, aseadamente. May kalinisan, may kakinisan. Cleanse, v. [clenz] Limpiar, purificar, purgar de algun delito. Linisin, dalisayin, wagasin. Clear, adj. [clir] Claro, trasparente, diáfano; evidente, indisputable. Malinaw, maliwanag, nanganganinag; tunay, totoo. Clear, n. [clir] Claro. Linaw, liwanag; lwal. Clear, v. [clir] Clarificar, aclarar; justificar, purificar. Linawin, liwanagin; linisin; pawalan ng sala. Clearness, n. [clírnes] Claridad. Kalinawan, kaliwanagan. Clearance, n. [clírans] Limpieza. Paglilinis, paghahawan. Clearsighted, adj. [clirsáited] Perspicaz, avisado. Malinaw ang matá, maliksí. Cleat, n. [clit] Estaquita. Tablang makitid. Cleave, v. [cliv] Rajar, hender, partir. Sipakin, byakin, lahangin. Cleaver, n. [clívær] Cuchillo de carnicero. Sundang na panglapà ó pangkatay. Cleft, n. [cleft] Abertura, hendedura, rajadura. Bitak, pwang, lahang. Clematis, n. [clématis] Clemátide. Lipay na namumulaklak. Clemency, n. [clémensi] Clemencia, misericordia. Habag, kahabagan, awà, kaawaan. Clement, adj. [clément] Clemente, piadoso, benigno, misericordioso. Mahabagin, maawain. Clergy, n. [clérdchi] Clero. Kapisanan ng mga parè ó pastor. Clergyman, n. [clérdchiman] Clérigo, eclesiastico. Parè. Cleric, adj. [cléric] Clerical. Nauukol sa parè ó pastor. Cleric, n. [cléric] Clérigo. Parè ó pastor. Clerical, adj. [clérical] Clerical. Nauukol sa parè ó pastor. Clerk, n. [clerk] Escribiente. Tagasulat, kawaní, eskribyente. Clever, adj. [cléver] Diestro, experto, avisado, inteligente. Matalinò, bihasá, sanáy, mabait, marunong. Cleverly, adv. [cléverli] Diestramente. May katalinuan. Cleverness, n. [clévernes] Destreza, habilidad. Katalinuan, kasanayán, kabaitan, karunungan, kabihasahán. Clew, n. [cliu] Ovillo de hilo. Ikid ng pisì. Click, v. [clic] Retiñir. Umalingawngaw. Client, n. [cláient] Cliente. Ang sukì ng mga abogado. Cliff, n. [clif] Peñasco, roca escarpada. Batong matarik. Climate, n. [cláimet] Clima. Klima, singaw ng lupà. Climax, n. [cláimacs] Climax. Tugatog, taluktok, kaibuturan. Climb, v. [cláim] Escalar, subir. Umakyat, mangukyabit, maglambitin. Clime, n. [cláim] Clima. Klima, singaw ng lupà. Clinch, n. [clinch] Pulla, agudeza. Parunggít, salitang masakít. Clinch, v. [clinch] Empuñar, cerrar el puño; remachar un clavo. Sumuntok; magpasak ng pakò. Cling, v. [cling] Colgar, adherirse, pegarse; agarrarse. Magbitin, sumapì, dumikit; humawak, tumangan pumigil. Clink, n. [clink] Tañido, retintin. Alingawngaw, hinugong. Clink, v. [clink] Retiñir, resonar, retumbar. Umalingawngaw, maghinugong. Clinker, n. [clínkær] Cagafierro, mocos de carbon de hierro. Abo ng uling na bakal. Clip, n. [clip] Tijeretada, tijeretazo. Pinaggupitan, pinagtabasan, pinagputulan. Clip, v. [clip] Abrazar; cortar á raiz; escatimar; trasquilar ó cortar con tijeras. Yakapin; bunutin, hugutin; dalâin; gupitin. Clipper, n. [clíper] Esquilador. Manggugupit, tagagupít. Clipping, n. [clípping] Esquileo. Paggugupit. Cloak, n. [cloc] Capa. Balabal, kapote, damít na pang-ibabaw. Cloak, v. [cloc] Encapotar. Magkapote, magsuot ng damít na pangibabaw. Clock, n. [cloc] Reloj. Relos na malakí. Clock-word, n. [clok-wærd] Mecanismo de un reloj; sumamente exacto y puntual. Takbó ng oras ng relós; ganap. Clod, n. [clod] Terron, cesped. Tingkal, bugal na lupà. Clod, v. [clod] Tirrar terrones. Bumató ng tingkal na lupà. Cloddy, adj. [clódi] Lleno de terrones. Matingkal. Clodhopper, n. [clódjoper] Zoquete, rústico. Taong bastos, taong hamak. Clodpate, n. [clódpet] Idiota, zoquete. Musmos, hangal, taong hamak. Clog, n. [clog] Embarazo, obstáculo. Abala, hadlang, kapansanan, kaabalahan. Clog, v. [clog] Embarazar, impedir. Abalahin, hadlangan. Cloggy, adj. [clógui] Embarazoso. Nakakaabala. Close, adj. [clos] Cerrado, preso, estrecho, ajustado, avaro. Tipî, mahigpit, masinsin, maramot, kuripot. Close, adv. [clos] De cerca, estrechamente. Kalapit, kasiping, katabî. Close, v. [clos] Cerrar; juntar; concluir, terminar. Sarhan, itikom, ilapat, takpan, isará, ilapat, isiping; tapusin, yariin. Close-bodied, n. [cloz-bódied] Ajustado al cuerpo. Lapat sa katawan. Close-fisted, n. [clos-físted] Apretado, mezquino. Maramot, kuripot. Closely, adj. [clósli] Estrechamente, atentamente. Malapit na malapit, katabíng-katabí. Closeness, n. [clósnes] Estrechez, espesura. Sikíp, kipot, sinsin, kasinsinan. Closet, n. [clózet] Retrete, cuarto pequeño. Kumón, pánabihan, pálikuran; munting silid. Clot, n. [clot] Grumo. Patak, tulò. Cloth, n. [cloz] Paño. Káyo, hénero. Clothe, v. [cloz] Vestir, cubrir. Magsuot ng damit, magbihis, magdamit. Clothes, n. [clozz] Vestido, ropaje. Damít, bihisan. Clothing, n. [clózing] Vestidos. Mga bihisan. Cloud, n. [cláud] Nube. Alapaap, ulap. Cloud, v. [cláud] Anublar, obscurecer. Pag-alapaapin, pag-ulapin, palabuin, padilimín. Cloudless, adj. [cláudles] Sin nube, claro, sereno. Walang ulap, maliwanag, aliwalas, malinaw. Cloudy, adj. [cláudi] Nublado, nubloso. Maalapaap, maulap. Clout, n. [cláut] Remiendo; pañal de niño; clavija. Tagpî; lampin; tutop ó pakong may ulo. Clout, v. [cláut] Remendar; tapar ó cubrir; asegurar por medio de una clavija. Tagpian; takpan, lampinan; tutupán. Clove, n. [clov] Clavo, especia aromática. Klabo de komer, bunga ng paminta. Cloven, adj. [clóvn] Partido. Byak. Clover, n. [clóvoer] Especie de trebor. Isang urì ng damó. Clown, n. [cláun] El gracioso de teatro, payaso, patan, rústico. Pusong, payaso, bastos, hamak. Clownish, adj. [cláunish] Rústico, grosero. Bastos, hamak. Cloy, v. [cloy] Saciar, hartar. Bumusog, busugin. Club, n. [clab] Club; cachiporra, garrote. Klub, kapisanan; batutà tungkod, panghampas, pangbugbog. Club, v. [clab] Contribuir, concurrir á gastos comunes. Umabuloy. Cluck, v. [cloec] Cloquear la gallina, cloquear. Pumutak. Clue, n. [clu] Seña, idea; vestigio, indicio. Tandâ; bakas. Clump, n. [cloemp] Trozo de madera sin forma ni figura particular; bosquecillo. Punò ng kahoy na walang anyong maayos; gubatgubatan. Clumsy, adj. [clámzi] Basto, tosco, inculto; pesado. Bastos, hamak, musmos, hangal; makuyad, mabagal. Cluster, n. [clástoer] Racimo; manada, hato; peloton de gente, tropel. Kumpol, pilíng; kawan, kában; pulutong, bunton. Cluster, v. [clástoer] Arracimarse, agruparse. Pumilíng; magbunton. Clutch, n. [cloetch] Garra; presa. Panghawak, pangalmot: huli, hawak. Clutch, v. [cloetch] Agarrar ó asir con la mano. Humawak, hawakan; sumunggab, sunggaban. Coach, n. [coch] Coche, carroza. Koche, karwahe. Coach, v. [co-ch] Llevar en coche. Ipagkarwahe. Coachman, n. [cótchman] Cochero. Kuchero. Coact, v. [coáct] Cooperar. Tumulong. Coaction, n. [coáccien] Coaccion. Tulong. Coadjutor, n. [coádchiutoer] Coadjutor. Katulong. Coadjutrix, n [coádchiutrics] Coadjutora. Babaing katulong. Coagulate, v. [coáguiulet] Coagularse, cuajarse. Mamuô. Coagulation, n [coaguiulécien] Coagulacion, coágulo. Pamumuô. Coal, n. [col] Carbon. Uling. Coal, v. [col] Hacer carbon. Magpauling. Coalesce, n. [coalés] Unirse, juntarse. Magsama, magpisan. Coalition, n. [coalícien] Union, enlace. Pag-iisá, pagsasama. Coal pit, n. [cól-pit] Carbonera. Hukayan ng uling. Coarse, adj. [cors] Basto, ordinario; tosco, rústico; bajo, vil, descortés. Magaspáng, bastos; hamak, hangal, walang galang, ungas. Coarseness, n. [córsnes] Tosquedad, grosería, bajeza. Kabastusan, kagaspangán, kaungasán. Coast, n. [cost] Costa, rivera, orilla del mar. Baybay-dagat, tabing dagat. Coast, v. [cost] Costear, ir navegando por la costa. Mamaybay, manabí ng paglalayág. Coaster, n. [cóstoer] Buque costanero. Sasakyang dagat na pamaybay. Coat, n. [cot] Casaca. Amerikana, sako. Coat, v. [cot] Cubrir, vestir. Mag-amerikana, mag-barò, magdamit. Coax, v. [cocs] Lisonjear, adular, acariciar, halagar. Mamuri ng paimbabaw, manuyâ, umalindog. Coaxation, n. [cocsécien] Lisonja, caricia. Papuring paimbabaw, tuyâ, alindog. Cob, n. [cob] Mazorca de maiz. Busal. Cobble, v. [cóbl] Chapucear, remendar zapatos. Tutupan ng magaspang, magtagpî ng sapatos. Cobble, n. [cóbl] Barca de pescador. Bangkang ipinangingisdâ. Cobbler, n. [cóbloer] Chapucero, remendon. Tagatutop, tagapagtagpi. Cobweb, n. [cóbweb] Telaraña. Bahay gagambá, bahay lawá. Cochineal, n. [cóchinil] Cochinilla. Isang insekto [hayop] na walang pakpak; tinang mapulá. Cock, n. [coc] Gallo. Tandang, manok. Cockade, n. [cokéd] Escarapela, divisa en forma de rosa ó lazo para distinguir los ejércitos y partidos. Sagisag na pinagkakakilanlan sa mga kawal at lapian. Cockfight, n. [cócfait] Riña ó pelea de gallos. Sabong, tupada. Cockfighting, n. [cócfaiting] Riña ó pelea de gallos. Sabong, tupada. Cockfighter, n. [cócfaiter] Gallero. Mánanabong. Cockle, n. [cócl] Una especie de caracol de mar. Isang urì ng susông-dagat. Cockney, n. [cócni] Hijo de Londres. Taga bayan ng Londres. Cock-pit, n. [cóc-pit] Reñidero de gallos, gallera. Sabungan. Cockroach, n. [cócrotch] Cucaracha. Ipis. Cock's-comb, n. [cocs-comb] Cresta de gallo. Palong ng manok. Cocswain, n. [cócsn] Patron de bote. Tagaugit sa sasakyan. Cocoa, n. [cóco] Coco; cacao. Niyog; kakaw. Cocoanut, n. [cóconat] Coco. Niyog. Cocoa palm, n. [cóco-palm] Planta de coco. Punò ng niyog. Cocoon, n. [cocún] Capullo del gusano de seda. Bahay ng uod. Coction, n. [cóccien] Coccion. Kulô, subó. Cod, n. [cod] Bacalao. Bakalaw. Codfish, n. [códfish] Bacalao. Bakalaw. Coddle, v. [códl] Criar con mucho cuidado ó ternura. Palayawin. Code, n. [cod] Código. Aklat na kinátatalaan ng mga kautusan. Codger, n. [códcher] Hombre tacaño y avariento. Maramot. Codicil, n. [códissil] Codicilo. Pahimakas na bilin. Codify, v. [códifay] Hacer un código. Gawing kódigo. Coefficient, adj. [coefícient] Coeficiente. Katulong. Coequal, adj. [coícual] Igual. Kapantay, kagaya. Coerce, v. [coérs] Contener, refrenar, restringir. Pigilin, ampatín. Coercion, n. [coércion] Coercion; opresion. Pagpigil; pagpighatì. Coercive, adj. [cooérsiv] Coercitivo. Nakapipigil, nakaaampat, nakapipighatì. Coeval, adj. [coíval] Coevo, contemporaneo. Kapanahon, kasing-gulang. Coffee, n. [cófi] Café. Kapé. Coffee-pot, n. [cófi-pot] Cafetera. Kapitera, sisidlan ng kapé. Coffee-tree, n [cófitri] Cafeto. Punò ng kapé. Coffer, n. [cófer] Arca, cofre, caja. Kaban ng salapì ó hiyas. Coffin, n. [cófin] Ataúd. Kabaong, ataul. Coffin, v. [cófin] Meter en un ataúd. Isilid sa kabaong. Cog, n. [cog] Fraude, engaño; diente de rueda. Hibò, dayà; nginpin ng gulong. Cog, v. [cog] Engañar, trampear; adular, lisonjear; puntear una rueda. Mangdayà, manghibò; manuyâ, mamuri ng paimbabaw; isaayos ang ngipin ng gulong. Cogency, n. [códchensi] Fuerza, urgencia. Lakas, pagmamadalî. Cogent, adj. [códchent] Convincente, poderoso, urgente. Kahikahikayat, makapangyarihan, mádalian. Cogitate, v. [códchitet] Pensar, reflexionar. Mag-isip, magmunì, magdilidilì, magbulay, gumunitâ. Cogitation, n. [codchitécien] Pensamiento, meditacion. Pag-iisip, gunitâ, dilìdilì, pagbubulay. Cognac, n. [cognac] Cognag. Alak na kunyát. Cognate, adj. [cógnet] Cognado, consanguíneo. Kadugô, hinlóg. kamaganak. Cognation, n. [cognécien] Cognacion. Pagka-kamaganak, kadugô. Cognition, n. [cognícien] Conocimiento, experiencia. Kaalaman, pagkatalós. Cognizable, adj. [cognízabl] Lo que se puede examinar juridicamente. Ang malilitis ng ayon sa hukuman. Cognizance, n. [cógnizans] Conocimiento; divisa. Kaalaman, pagkakilala; sagisag. Cognomen, n. [cognómen] Apellido, cognombre. Pamagat, apelyido. Cog-wheel, n. [cógjuil] Rueda dentada. Gulong na may ngipin. Cohabit, v. [cojábit] Cohabitar. Makiagulò. Cohabitation, n. [cojabitécioen] Cohabitacion. Pakikiagulò. Coheir, n. [coér] Coheredero. Kasama sa mana. Coheiress, n. [coéres] Coheredera. Babaing kasama sa mana. Cohere, v. [cojír] Pegarse, unirse; convenir, conformarse. Dumikít, kumapit; pumayag, sumang-ayon. Coherence, n. [cojírens] Cohesion, union. Pagkadikit, pagkakapit, pagkakatig. Coherency, n. [cojírensi] Cohesion, union. Pagkadikit, pagkakapit, pagkakatig. Coherent, adj. [cojírent] Coherente. Dumidikit, kumakapit, kumakatig. Coil, n. [cóil] Baraunda; tumulto. Ikid; guló. Coil, v. [cóil] Doblar en redondo, recoger. Ikirin. Coin, n. [cóin] Moneda acuñada, dinero. Salapî, kwarta. Coin, v. [cóin] Acuñar moneda. Gumawâ ng salapî. Coinage, n. [cóinedch] Acuñacion; moneda, dinero. Paggawâ ng salapî; salapî. Coincide, v. [coinsáid] Coincidir, convenir. Mápataon, mápasabay. Coincidence, n. [coínsidens] Coincidencia. Pagkakataon. Coincident, adj. [coínsident] Coincidente. Nauukol sa pagkakataon. Coiner, n. [cóinoer] Acuñador de moneda. Manggagawà ng salapî. Coke, n. [coc] Carbon de piedra. Uling ng metal. Colander, n. [koelendoer] Coladera, colador. Saláan. Cold, adj. [cold] Frio; indiferente, insensible. Maginaw, malamig; nanghihinabang. Cold, n. [cold] Frialdad; resfriado, constipado. Ginaw, lamig; sipon. Coldness, n. [cóldnes] Frialdad. Kaginawan, kalamigan. Cole, n. [col] Col. Guguláyin na parang repolyo. Cole wort, n. [cól woert] Especie de berza. Isang urì ng repolyo. Colic, n. [cólic] Cólico. Apad. Collaborate, v. [coláboret] Cooperar. Makitulong. Collaboration, n. [colaborecien] Cooperacion. Tulong. Collaborator, n. [coláboretor] Colaborador. Katulong. Collapse, n. [coláps] Hundimiento. Pagkalubog ng sasakyan, pagkabagbag. Collapse, v. [coláps] Hundir. Lumubog [ang sasakyan,] mabagbag. Collar, n. [cólar] Collar. Kolyar, kwintas. Collar, v. [colar] Agarrar á uno por el pescuezo. Hawakan sa leeg, sakalin. Collar-bone, n. [cólar-bon] Clavícula. Balagat. Collation, n. [colécien] Don, dádiva, presente; refaccion que se suele tomar por la noche cuando se ayuna. Kaloob; ang kinakain sa gabi kung nag-aayuno. Colleague, n. [cólig] Colega, compañero. Kasama, kasabay. Collect, n. [cólect] Colecta. Ambag, abuloy. Collect, v. [cólect] Recojer, juntar. Tumipon, magtipon, lumakad ng ambagan ó abuloy. Collection, n. [coléccien] Coleccion. Ang tinitipon. Collective, adj. [coléctiv] Colectivo, congregado. Tipón, samasama. Collectively, adv. [coléctivli] Colectivamente. Tipón, samasama. Collector, n. [coléctor] Recaudador; compilador. Mániningil, tagasingil; tagatipon. College, n. [cóledch] Colegio. Kolehyo ó malaking páaralan. Collegian, n. [colídchan] Colegial. Ang nag-aaral sa malaking páaralan. Collegiate, adj. [colídchiet] Colegiado. Ang nauukol sa kolehyo. Collide, v. [coláid] Colidir. Bumanggâ. bumunggô, umumpog. Collier, n. [cóliær] Minero carbonero; barco carbonero; el que hace ó vende carbon. Ang manggagawà sa mina ng uling; ang sasakyang tubig na naglululan ng uling; ang maguulíng. Colliery, n. [cólieri] Carbonera, comercio de carbon. Tíbagan ng uling; kálakalan ng uling. Collision, n. [colízien] Colision. Banggâ, bunggô, umpog. Colloquial, adj. [colóquial] Familiar, del uso comun. Kinahiratihan, pananalitâ, karaniwang salità. Colloquialism, n. [colóquialism] Lengua usual. Karaniwang pananalitâ. Colloquy, n. [cólocui] Coloquio, plática. Sálitaan, satsatan. Collusive, adj. [coliúsiv] Colusorio. Nauukol sa sálitaang lihim. Colly, n. [cóli] Hollin de carbon. Kulilì ng uling. Cologne, n. [cológni] Agua de Colonia. Agua de Colonia, isang urì ng pabango. Colonel, n. [cólonel] Coronel. Koronel, punong hukbo. Colonelship, n. [kolónelship] Coronelía. Pagka-koronel. Colonial, adj. [colónial] Colonial. Ang nauukol sa isang lupang sakop, ó lupang bagong pinananahanan. Colonist, n. [cólonist] Colono. Mánanahan sa lupang bagong katutuklas. Colonize, v. [cólonaiz] Colonizar. Sakupin. Colonization, n. [colonizécien] Colonizacion. Pagsakop, pananakop. Colonnade, n. [colonéd] Columnario. Taludtod ng mga haligi. Colony, n. [cóloni] Colonia. Lupang sakop, lupang bagong pinananahanan. Color, n. [cólor] Color. Kulay, kolor. Color, v. [cólor] Colorar. Kulayan. Coloring, n. [cóloring] Colorido. Pangkulay. Colored, adj. [cólærd] Colorado, teñido. May kulay, kinulayan. Colossal, adj. [colósal] Colosal. Totoong malakí. Colossus, n. [colósæs] Coloso. Larawan na totoong malaki. Colt, n. [colt] Potro. Potro. Colter, n. [cólter] Reja de arado. Sudsod. Column, n. [cólam] Columna. Haligi. Columnar, adj. [colámnar] Columnario. May maraming haligi. Coma, n. [cóma] Coma. Koma. Comb, n. [com] Peine. Suklay. Comb, v. [com] Peinar. Magsuklay, suklayan. Combat, n. [cómbat] Combate, batalla. Labanán, paghahamok, away, pagbabaka. Combat, v. [cómbat] Combatir. Lumaban, makihamok, makipagbaka. Combatant, n. [cómbatant] Combatiente. Manglalaban. Combative, adj. [cómbativ] Quisquilloso. Masungit. Combination, n. [combinécien] Combinacion, liga, mezcla. Pagkakabagay, pagkakasama, pagkakalahok. Combine, v. [combáin] Combinar, unir, ajustar. Ibagay, isama, ilapat. Combustible, adj. [combústibl] Combustible. Susunugin, supukín, madaling masunog. Combustion, n. [combústien] Combustion, incendio. Sunog, ningas, liyab. Come, v. [cam] Venir. Pumarito. Come down, v. [cam-dáun] Bajar, descender. Pumanaog, lumusong, bumabâ. Come from, v. [cam from] Venir de, proceder. Manggaling, magbuhat, magmulâ sa. Come up, v. [cam áp] Subir, ascender. Pumanhik, umakyat, umahon, sumampá. Comedian, n. [comédian] Comediante, cómico. Komedyante. Comedy, n. [cómedi] Comedia. Komedya. Comeliness, n. [kámlines] Gracia, donaire. Inam, buti, igi, gandá. Comely, adj. [kámli] Hermoso, decente. Maganda, butihin. Comet, n. [cómet] Cometa. Kometa. Cometary, adj. [cómeteri] Perteneciente á cometa. Nauukol sa kometa. Comfort, n. [kómfort] Consuelo, placer, comodidad. Alíw, twâ, ginghawa. Comfort, v. [kómfort] Confortar, alentar, consolar. Aliwín, pasayahin, paginghawahin. Comfortable, adj. [kómfortabl] Cómodo, consolatorio. Maginghawa, kaalíw-alíw. Comforter, n. [kómforter] Consolador. Mapang-alíw, mangaalíw. Comfortless, adj [kómfortles] Desconsolado, inconsolable, desesperado. Di maalíw, walang kaaliwán, walang ginghawa. Comic, adj. [cómic] Cómico. Katawatawa, mapagpatawa. Comical, adj. [cómical] Cómico. Katawatawá, mapagpatawá. Comicalness, n. [cómicalnes] Facecía, chiste. Katatawanán, sisté. Comma, n. [cóma] Coma. Coma. Command, n. [cománd] Mandamiento, orden, mando, poder. Utos, kapangyarihan, pamumunò. Command, v. [cománd] Mandar, ordenar, gobernar. Mag-utos; iutos. Commandant, n. [comándant] Comandante. Komandante, tagapagutos. Commander, n. [cománder] Comandante. Komandante, tagapagutos. Commandment, n. [comándment] Mandamiento, precepto. Utos. Commemorate, v. [comémoret] Conmemorar, recordar. Magdiwan, alalahanin. Commemoration, n. [comemorécien] Conmemoracion, recuerdo. Pagdiriwan, pag-alaala. Commence, v. [coméns] Comenzar, empezar, principiar. Magpasimulâ, magsimulâ, mag-umpisá; pasimulan. Commencement, n. [coménsment] Principio, comienzo. Pasimulâ. Commend, v. [coménd] Encomendar, recomendar. Ipagtagubilin, ipagbilin. Commendable, adj. [coméndabl] Recomendable, loable. Máipagtatagubilin, kapuripuri. Commendation, n. [comendécien] Recomendacion, encomio. Tagubilin, papuri. Commensurate, adj. [coménshiret] Conmensurado, proporcionado. Kasukat, kabagay, tamà sa sukat. Commensurate, v. [coménshiret] Conmensurar. Itamà sa sukat. Comment, n. [cóment] Comento. Puná, pansin. Comment, v. [cóment] Comentar. Punahín, pansinín. Commentary, n. [cómenteri] Comentario. Paliwanag. Commentator, n. [cómentetoer] Comentador. Tagapagpaliwanag. Commerce, n. [cómoers] Comercio, tráfico. Pangangalakal. Commercial, adj. [cómoercial] Comercial. Nauukol sa pangangalakal. Commiserable, adj. [comízoerabl] Lastimoso. Kahabaghabag, kawawà. Commiserate, v. [comízoeret] Apiadarse, compadecerse. Mahabag; maawa. Commiseration, n. [comizoerécien] Conmiseracion, piedad. Habag, awà. Commissary, n. [cómiseri] Comisario. Komisaryo, tagapamahalà ng mga bagay-bagay ng mga sundalo ó kawal. Commission, n. [comícien] Comision, encargo. Bili, tungkol. Commission, v. [comícien] Comisionar, encargar. Magbilin, manungkol. Commissioner, n. [comísioner] Comisionado. Komisyunado, kinatawan. Commit, v. [comít] Cometer, confiar, encargar, encomendar. Ipagkátiwalà, ipagbilin. Commitment, n. [comítment] Auto de prision. Utos na ipinabibilanggo. Committee, n. [comíti] Comité. Lupong. Commodious, adj. [comódiæs] Cómodo, conveniente, util. Aliwalas, malwag, magagamit. Commodity, n. [comóditi] Comodidad; interes, utilidad, provecho, géneros, mercaderías, productos. Kasiyahán; pakinabang, kalakal. Commodore, n. [cómodor] Jefe de escuadra. Punò ng hukbong dagat. Common, adj. [cómon] Comun, ordinario. Karaniwan. Common, n. [cómon] Comun. Pangkaraniwan. Commoner, n. [cómoner] Plebeyo; miembro de la cámara baja en Inglaterra. Taong mababà ang kalagayan; kagawad ng kapulungang bayan sa Inglaterra. Commonly, adv. [cómonli] Comunmente, frecuentemente. Karaniwang.... Commonwealth, n. [cómonwelz] República. Repúblika, sangbansa. Commotion, n. [comócion] Conmocion, tumulto, perturbacion de ánimo, sublevacion. Pusok ng kalooban, ligalig, guló, panghihimagsik. Commune, v. [cómiun] Conversar, platicar, hablar. Makipag-usap, makipagsalitaan. Communicant, n. [comiúnicant] Comunicante. Ang nakikinabang. Communicate, v. [comiúniket] Comunicar, participar. Magbigay-alam, magsabi, magpahayag. Communication, n. [comiunikécien] Comunicacíon, participacion. Pasabi, pabalità, pahayag. Communicative, adj. [comiúniketiv] Comunicativo. Náipasasabi, náipababalità, náipahahayag. Communion, n. [comiúnioen] Comunidad; comunion. Kapisanan; pakikinabang, comunyon. Community, n. [comiúniti] Comunidad. Kapisanan. Commutation, n. [comiutécioen] Cambio, trueque; mudanza, alteracion. Palít, kapalit; pagbabago. Commute, v. [comiút] Conmutar, permutar, trocar. Palitan, ipalit, magpalit. Compact, adj. [cómpact] Compacto, sólido, denso. Siksik, masinsin, tipî. Compact, n. [cómpact] Pacto, convenio, ajuste. Tipan, kásunduan, káyarian. Compact, v. [cómpact] Pactar; consolidar, compaginar. Makipagtipan, makipagkáyarî, makipagkasundò; sinsinin, tipîin. Compactness, n. [compáctnes] Solidez, densidad. Katibayan, kasinsinan. Companion, n. [compénioen] Compañero, camarada, compinche. Kasama, kalaguyò, kasabay, kaakbay. Companionable, adj. [compénioenabl] Sociable. Mabuting makisama. Companionship, n. [compénioenship] Sociedad, compañía. Pagsasamahan. Company, n. [cómpani] Compañía ó sociedad; cuadrilla de personas que se unen para algun fin particular; compañía de comercio; gremio, cuerpo; cierto número de soldados que militan bajo la disciplina de un capitan. Samahán, kompanyá; kasama, kasabay; katipunan, kapisanan; pulutong, tropa. Comparable, adj. [cómparabl] Comparable. Máipaparis, máigagaya, máihahalintulad. Comparative, adj. [compárativ] Comparativo. Mapagpaparisan, mapaghahalintularan. Compare, v. [compér] Comparar; cotejar, comprobar. Iparis, ihalintulad; tuusín. Comparison, n. [compárisoen] Comparacion; cotejo, confrontacion. Pagpaparis, pagtutulad; pagtutuus. Compart, v. [compárt] Compartir, dividir. Hatiin, paghiwalayin. Compartment, n. [compártment] Compartimiento. Silid, kwarto; bahagi. Compass, n. [kómpas] Compas. Aguhon, kompas. Compass, v. [kómpas] Circuir, rodear. Lumigid, ligirin. Compassion, n. [compácioen] Compasion, piedad. Habag, kahábagan, awà, kaawaan; hinayang, panghihinayang. Compassionate, adj. [compácienet] Compasivo. Mahabagin, maawaín. Compassionate, v. [compácienet] Compadecer á alguno. Maawà, mahabag. Compatriot, n. [compétrioet] Compatriota. Kababayan, kalupain. Compel, v. [compél] Compeler, obligar, precisar. Pumilit; pilitin. Compend, n. [cómpend] Compendio, resumen, epítome, sumario. Maikling salaysay. Compendious, adj. [compéndioes] Compendioso, breve, sucinto. Maiklî. Compensate, v. [compénset] Compensar. Gantihin, bayaran, upahan. Compensation, n. [compensécien] Compensacion. Gantí, kagantihan, bayad, kabayaran, upa. Compete, v. [compít] Competir. Lumaban, makipagpunyagî. Competence, n. [cómpitens] Competencia, suficiencia. Kabagayan, kakayahan, kasukatán. Competent, adj. [compítent] Competente. Bagay, akmâ; may-kaya. Competition, n. [compitícioen] Competencia, rivalidad. Punyagian, pagtatalo, paglalaban. Competitor, n. [compétitoer] Competidor, rival. Kapunyagî, katálo, kalaban. Compilation, n. [compilécioen] Compilacion, conjunto de algunas cosas. Pagtitipon, pagsasamasama ng anoman. Compile, v. [compáil] Compilar. Tipunin, pagsamasamahin. Compiler, n. [compáiler] Compilar. Tagatipon, katiwalà sa pagsasamasama ng anoman. Complacence, n. [complésens] Complacencia, condescendencia. Pakikilugod, pakikisayá, pakikitwâ. Complacency, n. [complésensi] Complacencia, condescendencia. Pakikilugod, pakikisayá, pakikitwâ. Complacent, adj. [complésent] Complaciente, cortés, afable, urbano. Mapagbigay-lugod. Complain, v. [complén] Quejarse, lamentarse. Dumaing, magdamdam, maghimutok. Complaint, n. [complént] Queja, sentimiento, lamento, llanto, quejido. Daing, damdam, himutok. Complement, n. [cómpliment] Complemento. Kaganapan, kasukatán. Complete, adj. [complít] Completo, perfecto, cabal. Ganap, sakdal, lubos, lipos, puspós, tapos. Complete, v. [complít] Completar, acabar. Tapusin, ganapin, lutasin. Completeness, n. [complítnes] Cumplimento, perfeccion. Kaganapan, katapusan, kayarián, kalubusan. Completion, n. [complícien] Complemento, acabamiento. Kaganapan, katapusan, kayarián, kalubusan. Complex, adj. [cómplecs] Complexo. Magusot, maguló, hindî maliwanag. Complexion, n. [compléccioen] Complexo; complexion. Magusot, maguló; kulay at anyô ng mukhâ; pagmumukhâ. Compliance, n. [compláians] Complimiento, sumision, condescendencia, complacencia. Pagganap, pagtupad, pagsunod, pagbibigay-loob. Compliant, adj. [compláiant] Rendido, sumiso; condescendiente, complaciente. Sunodsunuran, masunurin; mapagbigay-loob. Complicate, adj. [cómpliket] Complicado. Maguló, pasikotsikot. Complicate, v. [cómpliket] Complicar. Gumuló, guluhin. Complication, n. [complikécien] Complicacion. Guló, pagkakasikotsikot. Complice, n. [cómplis] Cómplice. Karamay, kaalám. Compliment, n. [cómpliment] Complimiento, obsequio, regalo. Alaala, handog, kaloob, regalo. Compliment, v. [cómpliment] Complimentar, linsonjear; adular. Magbigay-loob, mamuri ng pakunwâ; manuyâ. Complimental, adj. [complímental] Cumplido, cortés; ceremonioso. Mapagbigay-loob; mapagsalitâ ng malawig at pasikotsikot. Complimentary, adj. [complímentari] Cumplido, cortés; ceremonioso. Mapagbigay-loob; mapagsalitâ ng malawig at pasikotsikot. Comply, v. [complái] Cumplir, consentir, conformarse, condescender. Gumanap, tumupad, ganapin, tuparín, pumayag, pahinuhod, umayon. Component, adj. [compónent] Componente. Isa sa bumubuò, isa sa mga kasapì. Comport, v. [compórt] Sufrir, tolerar. Tiisín dálitain, batahín. Compose, v. [compóz] Componer. Umayos, kumumpuní. Composed, adj. [compózd] Compuesto; comedido. Kumpwesto; tahimik. Composedly, adv. [compózedli] Tranquilamente, serenamente. Tahimik, buô ang loob. Composer, n. [compóser] Autor; compositor. Mángangathâ; mang-aayos, mangkukumpuní. Composition, n. [compozícion] Composicion; compuesto. Kathâ, akdâ, ulat; lahok, halò. Compost, n. [cómpost] Abono. Pangpatabâ ng lupà ó ng halaman. Composure, n. [compósiur] Compostura, serenidad, calma. Katahimikan, kalamigan ng loob. Compound, adj. & n. [compáund] Compuesto; mezcla. Haluan, may-halo, maylahok. Compound, v. [compáund] Componer, arreglar. Umayos, kumumpuni. Comprehend, v. [comprijénd] Comprender, entender. Máunawà, maintindihan. máwatasan, matantô, mabatid, márinig. Comprehensible, adj. [comprijénsibl] Comprensible. Napag-uunawà, natatantô, nababatid, náririnig. Comprehension, n. [comprijéncien] Comprension, inteligencia. Pag-unawa, pagwatas, pagbatid, pagdinig; kaalaman. Comprehensive, adj. [comprijénsiv] Comprensivo. Náwawatasan, náiintindihan. Compress, n. [comprés] Cabezal. Pangtipî, pangpaikpík. Compress, v. [comprés] Comprimir, estrechar. Tipíin, higpitin, paikpikín. Compression, n. [comprécien] Compresion. Pagtipî, paghigpít, pagpaikpik. Comprise, v. [compráiz] Comprender; incluir. Lamnín; ilangkap, isama, isanib. Compromise, n. [cómpromaiz] Compromiso. Sálitaan, tipán, pangakò, kumpromiso. Compromise, v. [cómpromaiz] Comprometerse. Makipagtipan, mangakò. Comptroller, n. [contróler] Director. Tagapamahalà, punò. Compulsion, n. [compúlcion] Compulsion. Pagpilit. Compulsive, adj. [compúlsiv] Compulsorio. Nakapipilit. Compulsory, adj. [compúlsori] Compulsorio. Nakapipilit. Computation, n. [compiutécien] Compuncion, contriccion, remordimiento. Hiyâ, pagsisisi, pagngingitngit ng loob. Computation, n. [compiutécien] Computacion, cómputo. Pagtutuus. Compute, v. [compiút] Computar; calcular, estimar. Tumuus, tuusin; kuruin, halagahan. Comrade, n. [kómred] Camarada, compañero. Kasama, kalaguyò, kasabay. Con, v. [con] Conocer, reflexionar, meditar. Umalam, magwarì, gumunitâ, mag-isip-isip, bumulay. Concave, adj. [cónkev] Cóncavo. Malukom. Concave, v. [cónkev] Hacer cóncavo alguna cosa. Palukumín. Concavity, n. [concáviti] Concavidad. Kalukuman. Concavous, adj. [conkáves] Cóncavo. Malukom. Conceal, v. [consíl] Esconder, ocultar. Ikublí, magkublí, itagò, magtagò, ikanlong, magkanlong, ilihim. Concealment, n. [consílment] Ocultacion, encubrimiento. Paglilingid, pagkukublí, pagtatagò, pagkakanlong. Concede, v. [consíd] Conceder, asentir. Pumayag, umayon, umalinsunod. Conceit, n. [cónsit] Concepcion; concepto, capricho, imaginacion; amor propio, presuncion, arrogancia. Kasi, bungang-isip, kathâ, isipan; yabag, kahambugan, kapalaluan. Conceited, adj. [consíted] Conceptuoso, ingenioso; afectado, vano, presumido. Mapaglirip; mayabang, hambog. Conceivable, adj. [consívabl] Concevible. Mangyayaring kasihan, kayang akalain, mapaguunawà. Conceive, v. [consív] Concebir, imaginar, pensar. Kasihan, akalain, umakalà, isipin, umisip. Concentrate, v. [conséntret] Concentrar. Pagitnâ; ipagitnâ, isagitnâ, ipaloob. Concentration, n. [consentrécien] Concentracion. Pagpapagitnâ, pagpapasok. Conception, n. [consépcien] Concepcion; conocimiento. Warì. gunitâ, dilìdilì, pagkabatid, pagkatalós. Concern, n. [consérn] Negocio; interes, importancia; inquietud, pesar. Pagkabuhay, kahalagahan, kabuluhán; sakit, dalamhatì. Concern, v. [consérn] Concernir, tocar, interesar. Máukol, káukulan, máhinggil, kahinggilan, ipagmasakit. Concerning, prep. [consérning] Tocante á. Tungkol sa, hinggil sa. Concert, n. [consért] Concierto, convenio. Tugmaan, kásunduan, káyarian, pagkakaayon, pagkakaisa. Concert, v. [consért] Concertarse. Magtugmâ, magkásundô, magkáyarî, magkáisa. Concession, n. [consécion] Concesion, cesion, privilegio. Pagpayag, pagkapayag, kapahintulutan, pahintulot. Conciliate, v. [consíliet] Conciliar. Magkásundô, pagkásunduin. Conciliation, n. [consiliécien] Conciliacion. Kásunduan, pagkakasundô. Conciliator, n. [consílietor] Conciliador. Tagapagkasundô. Conciliatory, adj. [consílietori] Conciliativo. Nauukol sa kásunduan. Concise, adj. [consáis] Conciso, breve, sucinto. Maiklî, daglî. Concisely, adv. [consáisli] Concisamente. May kaiklian. Conciseness, n. [consáisnes] Concision. Iklî. Conclude, v. [concliúd] Concluir, terminar, acabar. Tumapos, tapusin, yumarì, yariin, lumutas, lutasín. Conclusion, n. [concliúcion] Conclusion, terminacion, término, fin. Katapusan, hanggan, dulo, wakás. Conclusive, adj. [concliúsiv] Final, conclusivo. Pangkatapusan, pangwakas. Concoct, v. [concoct] Digerir. Tunawin (sa sikmurà). Concoction, n. [concoccien] Digestion. Pagtunaw (sa sikmurà). Concord, n. [cóncord] Concordia, union. Kásunduan, káyarian, pagkakaisa. Concordance, n. [concórdans] Concordancia; conformidad, union. Túusan ng mga salitâ ng Biblia; pagkakaayon, pagkakaisa. Concordant, adj. [concórdant] Concordante, conforme. Kasang-ayon, kaayon. Concourse, n. [cóncors] Concurso. Timpalak. Concrete, adj. & n. [concrít] Concreto. Halóhalong binuû. Concrete, v. [concrít] Concretar. Papag-isahing masa; papagtugmâtugmain; iuwî sa isang bagay. Concubinage, n. [conkiúbinedch] Concubinato, amancebamiento. Pangbababae, pang-aagulò, pangangalunyâ. Concubine, n. [cónkiubain] Concubina. Babae, kaagulò, kálunyâ. Concupiscence, n. [conkiúpisens] Concupiscencia. Libog, kalibugan, halay, kahalayan. Concupiscent, adj. [conkiúpisent] Libidinoso, lascivo. Malibog, mahalay. Concur, v. [conkær] Concurrir. Dumaló. Concurrence, n. [conkærrens] Concurrencia. Dami ng dumaló. Concurrent, adj. [conkærrent] Concurrente. Dumadaló. Concussion, n. [concucion] Concusion. Bulalás, sigalbó. Condemn, v. [condém] Condenar. Hatulan, parusahan. Condemnable, adj. [condémnabl] Culpable, censurable, vituperable. Salarin, marapat parusahan. Condemnation, n. [condemnécion] Condenacion. Pagpaparusa. Condensate, adj. [condénset] Condensado, comprimido. Pinalapot. Condensation, n. [condensécion] Condensacion. Pagpapalapot. Condense, v. [condéns] Condensar, comprimir. Palaputin. Condescend, v. [condisénd] Condescender, consentir; acomodarse á la voluntad de otro. Pumayag, sumang-ayon, umalinsunod. Condescendence, n. [condiséndens] Condescendencia. Pagpayag, pagsang-ayon, pag-alinsunod. Condign, adj. [condáin] Condigno, merecido. Karapatdapat, marapat, ukol. Condignness, n. [condáinnes] Condignidad, merecimiento. Karapatan. Condiment, n. [cóndiment] Condimento, guiso, salsa. Panimplá, pangpalasa, rekado. Condition, n. [condícien] Condicion, cualidad. Lagay, kalagayan, kabagayan. Conditional, adj. [condícional] Condicional. Ayon sa kundisyon, sangayon sa kásunduan. Condole, v. [condól] Condolerse, simpatizar con, lamentar con otro; deplorar. Makidamdam, makidalamhatì, makiisang loob sa damdamin; mahabag, maawà. Condolence, n. [condólens] Compasion, lástima. Habag, awà; pakikidalamhatì. Condone, v. [condón] Perdonar. Magpatawad, patawarin. Conduce, v. [condiús] Conducir, concurrir. Maghatid, ihatid, magtaguyod, itaguyod, pumatnugot, patnugutan, pumatnubay, patnubayan. Conducive, adj. [condiúsiv] Conducente. Máitataguyod. Conduct, n. [cóndoect] Conducta, manejo, proceder, porte. Asal, ugalì, kilos, anyô. Conduct, v. [cóndoect] Conducir, guiar. Maghatid, magtaguyod, pumatnugot, pumatnubay. Conductor, n. [condáctoer] Conductor. Tagapaghatid; konduktor. Conduit, n. [cónduit] Conducto. Pádaluyan. Cone, n. [con] Cono. Kono ó anyong mabilog na patulís sa itaas. Confection, n. [confeccioen] Confitura, confeccion. Mga bagay na minatamis ó ginawang matamis. Confectionary, n. [conféccioeneri] Confitería. Gáwaan ng matamís. Confectioner, n. [conféccioenoer] Confitero. Manggagawà ng matamis. Confederacy, n. [confédoeresi] Confederacion, alianza. Kalipunan, kásunduan. Confederate, adj. [confedéret] Confederado, aliado. Kasundô, katipán. Confederate, v. [confedéret] Confederar, unir; confederarse, unirse. Makipagkasundô, makisama; magkásundô, magsama. Confederation, n. [confedoerécioen] Confederacion, alianza. Kalipunan, kásunduan. Confer, v. [confér] Conferenciar; conferir; dar. Makipanayam; magkaloob, magbigay. Conference, n. [cónfoerens] Conferencia. Panayam, sálitaan, úsapan. Confess, v. [confés] Confesar; declarar, reconocer. Magkumpisal; magpahayag, kumilala. Confession, n. [confécioen] Confesion; reconocimiento. Pangungumpisal; pagkilala. Confessional, adj. [confécioenal] Lo que pertenece á la confesion. Nauukol sa pangungumpisal. Confessionary, n. [confécioeneri] Confesionario. Pángumpisalan. Confessor, n. [confésoer] Confesor. Parè, nagpapakumpisal, kompesor. Confidant, adj. [cónfidant] Confidente. Kalihim, katápatan, kátiwalà. Confide, v. [confáid] Confiar, fiarse. Magkátiwalà, tumiwalà. Confidence, n. [cónfidens] Confianza; seguridad, integridad; presuncion, arrogancia. Tiwalà, pagpapalagay ng loob; kabuoan ng loob; tapang. Confident, adj. [cónfident] Confidente. Pinagkakatiwalaan, kátiwalà, katápatang-loob. Confidential, adj. [confidéncial] Reservado, secreto. Lihim. Confidently, adv. [cónfidentli] Confidentemente, secretamente. Lihim, palihím. Confine, n. [cónfain] Confin, límite, término. Hanggá, hangganan. Confine, v. [confáin] Confinar, lindar; encerrar, aprisionar. Hangganán, patotohanan, kalungin, ibilanggô. Confinement, n. [confáinment] Prision, estreñimiento. Pagkabilanggô, pagkakulong. Confirm, v. [confírm] Comfirmar, ratificar. Patotohanan, patunayan. Confirmation, n. [confoermécion] Confirmacion, prueba, testimonio. Patotoo, patunay; pagpapatotoo, pagpapatunay. Confirmatory, adj. [confírmetori] Confirmativo. Mapatutunayan, mapatototohanan. Confiscate, v. [cónfisket] Confiscar. Samsamin ng pámahalaan, embarguhin ng pámahalaan. Confiscation, n. [confiskécion] Confiscacion. Pagsamsam ng pámahalaan, pag-embargo ng pámahalaan. Conflagration, n. [conflagrécion] Conflagracion. Sunog; pagkakadamaydamay. Conflict, n. [conflíct] Conflicto; combate, pelea. Guló, pagkakalaban, pagkakataló; labanán, away. Conflict, v. [conflíct] Contender; combatir, luchar. Makipaglaban, makipagtalo; lumaban, makipagaway. Confluence, n. [cónfliuens] Confluencia, concurso. Pagkakatagpô ng dalawa ó ilang ilog; bunton ng tao. Conform, v. [confórm] Conformar. Sumang-ayon, umayon, umalinsunod. Conformable, adj. [confórmabl] Conforme, semejante. Kasang-ayon, kahalintulad, kagaya, kapara, kaparis, kamukhâ. Conformation, n. [conformécion] Conformacion; arreglo. Pagsang-ayon; pagkakasunduan, pinagkáyarian. Conformity, n. [confórmiti] Conformidad, conveniencia. Pagsang-ayon, pagkakaisa; pagkawangis. Confound, v. [confáund] Confundir; turbar. Luminlang, mangguló. Confront, v. [confrónt] Confrontar. Tuusín. Confrontation, n. [confrontécion] Confrontacion. Pagtutuus. Confuse, v. [confiúz] Confundir, desconcertar; oscurecer. Luminlang, gumuló; magpalabò. Confused, adj. [confiúzd] Confuso. Maguló, malabò. Confusion, n. [confiúcion] Confusion, desorden, caos; perturbacion, vergüenza. Guló, kaguluhan, ligalig, walang ayos, walang tuos; kalituhan, kahihiyan. Confutation, n. [confiutécion] Confutacion. Dî pagpayag sa pagmamatwid ng katalo. Confute, v. [confiút] Confutar, impugnar. Magwagí sa pagmamatwid, patahimikin ang katalo. Congeal, v. [condchíl] Congelar; congelarse, helarse. Mamuô. Congenial, adj. [condchínial] Congenial; análogo. Kaugalì; kabagay, kagaya, kaparis. Congeniality, n. [condchiníaliti] Semejanza de genio. Pagkakaisang ugalì. Congenite, adj. [condchénit] Congénito. Kakambal, kasamang ipinanganak. Conger, n. [cónguoer] Congrio. Palós. Congest, v. [condchést] Acumular, amontonar. Magbunton, ibunton, magsalansan, tipunin. Congestion, n. [condchéschen] Congestion, acumulacion. Pagpapamuô; pagbubunton. Conglomerate, adj. [conglómeret] Conglomerado. Tipón, ipón. Conglomerate, v. [conglómeret] Conglomerar. Tipunin, ipunin. Conglomeration, n. [conglomerécien] Conglomeracion. Pagkakatipon, pagkáipon. Congratulate, v. [congrátiulet] Congratular, felicitar. Bumatì ng papuri; magbigay ng maligayang araw. Congratulation, n. [congratiulécion] Congratulacion, felicitacion. Papuri, pagbibigay ng maligayang araw. Congratulatory, adj. [congrátiuletori] Congratulatorio. Ang nauukol sa papuri ó sa pagbibigay ng maligayang araw. Congregate, v. [cóngriguet] Congregar, reunir. Pumisan, tumipon. Congregation, n. [congriguécion] Congregacion. Kapisanan ó kapulungan ng mga taong may isang pananampalataya. Congregational, adj. [congriguécional] Lo que pertenece á la congregacion. Nauukol sa kapisanan ng mga taong may isang pananampalataya. Congress, n. [cóngres] Congreso. Kongreso, kapulungan ng mga kinatawan ng isang bansâ. Congruence, n. [cóngriuens] Congruencia, conformidad. Pagkakasang-ayon, pagkabagay. Congruency, n. [cóngriuensi] Congruencia, conformidad. Pagkakasang-ayon, pagkabagay. Congruent, adj. [cóngriuent] Congruente, conforme. Kasang-ayon, kabagay. Congruity, n. [congriúiti] Congruencia, conformidad. Pagkakasang-ayon, pagkabagay. Congruous, adj. [cóngriuæs] Congruo, idóneo, apto. Ukol, marapat, maykaya. Conjectural, adj. [condchéccheral] Conjetural. Dî malayong mangyari, kaypalà; mahihinalà, masasapantahà. Conjecture, n. [condchéccher] Conjetura; sospecha. Hakà, sapantahà, hinalà; bintang. Conjecture, v. [condchéccher] Conjeturar; sospechar. Maghakà, magsapantahà maghinalà; magbintang. Conjoin, v. [condchóin] Juntar, asociar; unirse, ligarse. Isama, ipisan, isapì, ilakip; magsama, magsapì, maglakip, magpisan. Conjoint, adj. [condchóint] Asociado, confederado. Kasama, kasapì, kalakip, kapisan. Conjugal, adj. [cóndchiugal] Conjugal, matrimonial. Nauukol sa pag-aasawa, nauukol sa kasal. Conjugate, v. [cóndchiuguet] Conjugar. Magbaybay ng pangwatas. Conjugation, n. [condchiuguécion] Conjugacion. Pamamaybay ng pangwatas. Conjunct, adj. [condchéntc] Conjunto, unido. Kalakip, kapisan, kasama. Conjunction, n. [condchénccion] Conjuncion, union, liga; conjuncion. Pagkasama, pagkalakip; pagkapisan; pang-ugnay. Conjunctive, adj. [condchéctiv] Conjunto; conjuntivo. Pagkakasama, pagkakalakip, pagkakapisan; nauukol sa pang-ugnay. Conjuncture, n. [condchúncchær] Coyuntura. Kasukasuan. Conjuration, n. [condchurécion] Deprecacion, súplica ardiente; conjuracion. Pamanhik na may panunumpâ; panghihimagsik na pagkaraka'y binalak. Conjure, v. [condchiúr] Conjurar ó citar en nombre de Dios; conspirar. Manumpâ sa pangalan ni Bathalà manghimagsik. Connate, adj. [connét] Del mismo parto. Kambal. Connect, v. [conéct] Juntar, unir, trabar; coordinar, combinar. Iugnay, idugtong, isugpong, iugpong; ibagay. Connection, n. [conéccion] Conexion, enlaze, trabazon. Kaugnay, karugtong, kasugpong, kaugpon. Connexion, n. [conéccion] Conexion, enlaze, trabazon. Kaugnay, karungtong, kasugpong, kaugpon. Connivance, n. [conáivans] Connivencia, disimulo. Pagpapalagpas sa malíng namasid, dî pagpansin. Connive, v. [conáiv] Guiñar el ojo; disimular. Kumindat; palagpasin ang maling námasid. Connoisseur, n. [conisér] Perito, conocedor. Tagapuná, tagaalám. Connubial, adj. [coniúbial] Conyugal, matrimonial. Nauukol sa pag-aasawa, nauukol sa kasal. Conquer, v. [cónker] Conquistar; vencer. Sumakop; magpasukò. Conquerable, adj. [cónkerabl] Conquistable, vencible. Masasakop, mapasusukò. Conqueror, n. [cónkeror] Conquistador, vencedor. Mánanakop, mapagpasukò. Conquest, n. [cónquest] Conquista. Pananakop, pagpapasukò. Consanguineous, adj. [consanguínies] Consanguineo. Kadugô, kamag-anak. Consanguinity, n. [consanguíniti] Consanguinidad. Kadugô, kamag-anak. Conscience, n. [cónciens] Conciencia. Budhî. Conscientious, adj. [conciéncias] Concienzudo. May mabuting budhî. Conscious, adj. [cónscies] Sabedor de sus propios pensamientos y acciones. Nakakaalam ng kanyang pagkatao, nasa pagkatao. Consciously, adv. [cónsciesli] Á sabiendas. Nasa pagkatao, alám. Conscript, adj. [cónscript] Conscripto, registrado. Nakatalâ, nakatandâ. Conscription, n. [conscrípcion] Asiento en algun registro, lista ó matrícula. Pagkátalâ, pagkátandâ. Consecrate, adj. [cónsicret] Consagrado. Itinalagang bagay. Consecrate, v. [cónsicret] Consagrar, dedicar. Magtalagá; italagá. Consecration, n. [consicrécion] Consagracion. Pagtatalagá. Consecutive, adj. [consékiutiv] Consecutivo. Sunodsunod. Consent, n. [consént] Consentimiento. Kapahintulutan, pahintulot. Consent, v. [consént] Consentir, conceder, permitir. Pahintulutan, itulot, magpahintulot, pumayag. Consequence, n. [cónsecuens] Consecuencia, resulta. Pinangyarihan, kináhinatnan. Consequent, adj. [cónsecuent] Consiguiente, consecutivo. Nákakasunod. Consequent, n. [cónsecuent] Consecuencia. Káhinatnán. Consequential, adj. [consecuéncial] Consecutivo. Nákakasunod. Consequently, adv. [cónsicuentli] Por consiguiente. Dahil dito. Conservation, n. [consoervécion] Conservacion. Pagpapanatili, pagpapalagì. Conservative, adj. [consérvativ] Conservativo. Dî nasisirà, namamalagì, nananatili. Conservator, n. [conservetor] Conservador; protector. Tagapagpanatili, tagapamalagì; tagakandilì. Conserve, n. [cónserv] Conserva. Tinggal, imbak. Conserve, v. [cónserv] Conservar, cuidar. Ingatan, pag-ingatan. Consider, v. [consíder] Considerar, pensar, meditar, examinar. Akalain, dilidiliin, bulayin, isipin, gunitain, wariin. Considerable, adj. [consíderabl] Considerable. Mapakukundanganan. Considerate, adj. [consíderet] Considerado, prudente, atento, discreto. Mapagwarì, mabait, mahinahon, mahinhin. Consideration, n. [considerécion] Consideracion; reflexion; importancia, valor, mérito. Pakundangan; warì, gunitâ, dilidilì; halaga, kabuluhan, saysay. Consign, v. [consáin] Consignar ó entregar á otro alguna cosa; ceder. Ipagkaloob, ibigay. Consignee, n. [consainí] Agente. Kátiwalà sa isang pagkabuhay ó pangangalakal. Consignment, n. [consáinment] Consignacion. Padalá. Consist, v. [consíst] Consistir. Ipagka..., ika..., ipagkagayon. Consistence, n. [consístens] Consistencia, conformidad, estabilidad. Kalagayan, katibayan, kapanatilihán, pagkakaayon. Consistency, n. [consístensi] Consistencia, conformidad, estabilidad. Kalagayan, katibayan, kapanatilihan, pagkakaayon. Consistent, adj. [consístent] Consistente, firme, sólido. Matibay, matatag, masinsin. Consistorial, adj. [consistórial] Consistorial. Nauukol sa kapulungan ng mga pinunò ng isang relihyon. Consistory, n. [consístori] Consistorio. Hukuman ó kapulungan ng mga pinunò ng isang relihyon. Consolable, adj. [consólabl] Consolable. Mangyayaring maalíw. Consolation, n. [consolécien] Consolacion, alivio. Alíw, kaaliwan. Consolatory, adj. [consóletori] Consolatorio. Nakaaalíw. Console, v. [consól] Consolar, confortar. Umalíw. Consoler, n. [consóler] Consolador. Tagaaliw, mang-aaliw. Consolidate, v. [consólidet] Consolidar, consolidarse. Isama, isapì ilakip; magsama, magsapì, maglakip. Consolidation, n. [consolidécion] Consolidacion, conjuncion. Pagkakaisa, pagkakasama, pagkakasapì, pagkakalakip. Consonance, n. [cónsonans] Consonancia, rima, armonia. Pagkakatugmâ, pagkakabagay ng tinig. Consonant, n. [cónsonant] Consonante. Katinig, katingig, katugmâ. Consort, n. [cónsort] Consorte; esposo, esposa. Kasama; asawa. Consort, v. [consórt] Asociarse; casar. Magsama; mag-asawa. Conspicuous, adj. [conspíkiues] Conspicuo, eminente, ilustre, famoso, distinguido. Magiting, bunyî, litáw, tangì, bantog. Conspiracy, n. [conspíresi] Conspiracion. Pagbabangon ng isang panghihimagsik. Conspirator, n. [conspíretor] Conspirador. Ang nagbabangon ng panghihimagsik. Conspire, v. [conspáir] Conspirar, conjurarse. Magbangon ng panghihimagsik. Conspirer, n. [conspáirer] Conspirador. Ang nagbabangon ng panghihimagsik. Constable, n. [cónstabl] Constable. Konstabularyo. Constancy, n. [cónstansi] Constancia, perseverancia. Tiyaga, katiyagaan. Constant, adj. [cónstant] Constante, perseverante. Matiyagâ. Constellation, n. [constelécion] Constelacion. Kapisanan ng mga talà't bituin. Consternation, n. [consternécien] Consternacion, atolondramiento, terror. Gulo, pagkatulig, takot, gulat. Constipate, v. [cónstipet] Constiparse. Sipunin. Constipation, n. [constipécion] Constipacion. Sipon. Constituency, n. [constituénsi] Junta electoral. Kapisanan ng nagsisiboto. Constitution, n. [constitiúcion] Constitucion. Pagkatatag. Constitutional, adj. [constitiúcional] Constitucional. Ayon sa pagkatatag. Constrain, v. [constrén] Constreñir, restringir, impedir. Pumigil, pigilin, umampat, ampatin. Constraint, n. [constrént] Constreñimiento. Pagpigil, pag-ampat. Constrict, v. [constríct] Constreñir, apretar, estrechar, encoger. Pigilin, higpitan, paurungin. Constriction, n. [constriccion] Constriccion, encogimiento. Paghigpit, pag-urong. Construct, v. [constráct] Construir, edificar. Gumawâ, gumawâ ng gusalì. Construction, n. [constráccion] Construccion. Paggawâ, paggawâ ó pagkágawâ ng gusalì. Construe, v. [cónstriu] Construir; interpretar, explicar. Magtatag; magpaliwanag, magpaaninaw. Consul, n. [cónsoel] Consul. Konsul. Consular, adj. [cónsiuloer] Consular. Ukol sa gáwain ng konsul. Consulate, n. [cónsiulet] Consulado. Káwanihan ng konsul. Consult, v. [consált] Consultar. Sumanggunì, magtanong. Consultation, n. [consaltécion] Consulta. Sanggunì. Consume, v. [consiúm] Consumir, acabar, gastar; consumirse, deshacerse, acabarse. Umubos, gumugol, tumapos; maubos, maparam, matapos. Consumer, n. [consiúmer] Consumidor, parroquiano. Tagaubos, tagabilí, sukì. Consummate, v. [cónsiumet] Consumar, terminar. Tapusin, ubusin. Consummation, n. [consiumécion] Consumacion. Katapusan. Consumption, n. [consémcion] Consuncion, disipacion; tisis. Pagkaubos, pagkawalâ; sakit na pagkatuyô, ítika. Consumptive, adj. [consémtiv] Consuntivo; tísico. Nauubos, nawáwalâ; nátutuyô, iniitika, natitisis. Contact, n. [cóntact] Contacto. Hipò, sagì, salíng. Contagion, n. [contédchen] Contagio. Hawa, pagkahawa. Contagious, adj. [contédches] Contagioso. Nakakahawa. Contain, v. [contén] Contener, caber. Magkaroon, magtaglay, maglamán, maglulan, magkasya. Contaminate, v. [contáminet] Contaminar, manchar, corromper. Mahawa, masirà; mabulok; madungisan. Contamination, n. [contaminécion] Contaminacion. Pagkahawa. Contemn, v. [contém] Despreciar, menospreciar. Hamakin, murahin. Contemplate, v. [contémplet] Contemplar, meditar. Magdilìdilì, magbulay, magwarì, gumunitâ, magnilay. Contemplation, n. [contemplécion] Contemplacion; estudio, consideracion. Pagmamalas, pagwawarì, pagninilay, gunitâ. Contemplative, adj. [contémpletiv] Contemplativo. Mapagmalas, mapagwarì, mapaggunitâ, mapagnilay. Contemporaneous, adj. [contemporénies] Contemporáneo, coetáneo. Kapanahon, kasabay. Contemporary, adj. [contémporeri] Contemporáneo, coetáneo. Kapanahon, kasabay. Contempt, n. [contémpt] Desprecio, menosprecio. Paghamak, pag-alipustâ, pagmura, pintas, lait. Contemptible, adj. [contémtibl] Despreciable, desestimado, vil. Hamak, ilipustâ, kalait-lait. Contemptuous, adj. [contémchiues] Desdeñoso, insolente, despreciador. Mapaghamak, mapagalipustâ, mapaglait, palapintas, bastós, magaspang. Contend, v. [conténd] Contender, disputar, altercar. Lumaban, makipagaway, makipagtalo. Contendent, n. [conténdent] Contendiente, antagonista. Kalaban, kaaway, katalo. Content, adj. [cóntent] Contento. Masayá, galak, twâ, nasisiyahangloob, galak, lugod. Content, n. [contént] Contentamiento, satisfaccion. Kasiyahan ng loob, sayá, galak, twâ, kaluguran, lugod. Content, v. [contént] Contentar, satisfacer. Masiyahán, malugod, matwâ, magalák, masayahán. Contention, n. [conténcion] Contencion, altercacion, debate, competencia. Pagtatalo, pagpupunyagian, pagpapaínaman. Contentious, adj. [conténcies] Contencioso, litigioso. Palataló, mapagbasag-ulo, palaaway, mapag-usap. Contentment, n. [conténtment] Contentamiento, satisfaccion. Kasiyahan ng loob, lugod, kasayahan. Contest, n. [contést] Contienda, disputa, debate, altercacion. Pagtatalo, pungyagian, koponán, labanan. Contest, v. [contést] Contender, disputar, competir. Lumaban, makipagtalo, makipagpungyagî. Contestant, adj. [contéstant] Contendiente. Nakikipagtalo, nakikipagpungyagî, kalaban. Contestation, n. [contestecion] Contestacion. Sagot, kasagutan. Context, n. [cóntecst] Contexto, contenido. Ang nilalamán. Contiguity, n. [contiguiúti] Contigüedad. Lapit, kalapitan. Contiguous, adj. [contíguies] Contigüo. Kalapít, katabí. Continence, n. [cóntinens] Continencia, templanza. Pagpipigil, hinahon. Continency, n. [cóntinensi] Continencia, templanza. Pagpipigil, hinahon. Continent, adj. [cóntinent] Continente. Mapagpigil, mahinahon. Continent, n. [cóntinent] Continente. Kontinente, ó malawak na lupà. Continental, adj. [continéntal] Continental. Nauukol sa kontinente. Contingence, n. [contíndchens] Contingencia. Pagkakátaon, hindî akalain. Contingency, n. [contíndchensi] Contingencia. Pagkákataon, hindî akalain. Contingent, adj. [contíndchent] Contingente, casual. Nagkátaon, hindî sinasadyâ. Continual, adj. [contíniual] Continuo. Patuloy. Continuance, n. [contíniuans] Continuacion, permanencia, duracion. Tuloy, tagál, láon. Continuation, n. [continiuécion] Continuacion, duracion. Pagtutuloy, pagtatagal. Continue, v. [contíniu] Continuar. Magpatuloy, ipagpatuloy. Continuous, adj. [contíniues] Continuo. Patuloy, sunód-sunod. Contort, v. [contórt] Torcer. Baluktutin, pilipitin. Contortion, n. [contórcion] Contorsion. Pagbabaluktot, pagpipilipit. Contour, n. [contúr] Contorno. Buong palibot, buong paligid. Contraband, adj. [cóntraband] Prohibido, ilegal. Bawal, labag sa kautusan. Contraband, n. [cóntraband] Contrabando. Laban sa utos ng pámáhalaan. Contrabandist, n. [cóntrabandist] Contrabandista. Ang nangangalakal ng mga bagay na ipinagbabawal ng pámahalaan. Contract, n. [contráct] Contrato. Káyarian, kásunduan, sálitaan. Contract, v. [contráct] Contratar. Makipagkáyarî, makipagkásundô. Contraction, n. [contráccion] Contraccion, abreviatura. Pag-iisá ng dalawang sálitâ. Contractor, n. [contráctor] Contratante, contratista. Ang tumatanggap ng kontrato; ang pumapakyaw ng anomang gáwain. Contradict, v. [contradíct] Contradecir, oponerse. Kataluhin; sumalangsang, sumumáng. Contradiction, n. [contradíccion] Contradiccion, contrariedad. Kataló, kalaban, sumáng. Contradictory, adj. [contradíctori] Contradictorio. Kataló, kalaban. Contrariwise, adv. [cóntreriuais] Al contrario. Pasalungat, pabaligtad. Contrary, n. [cóntreri] Contrario, opuesto. Salungat, laban, salangsang, labag. Contrast, n. [cóntrast] Contraste, oposicion. Pagkakaiba, pagkasalangsang. Contrast, v. [cóntrast] Contrastar, oponer. Sumalangsang. Contravene, v. [contravín] Contravenir, oponerse, obrar en contra. Lumabag, sumalangsang, sumway. Contravention, n. [contravéncion] Contravencion. Paglabag, pagsalangsang, pagsway. Contribute, v. [contríbiut] Contribuir, ayudar, cooperar. Umabuloy, umambag; tumulong. Contribution, n. [contribiúcion] Contribucion; cooperacion. Abuloy, ambag. Contributor, n. [contríbiutor] Contribuyente. Umaabuloy, umaambag. Contrite, adj. [cóntrait] Contrito, arrepentido, penitente. Nagsisisi. Contrition, n. [contrícion] Contricion. Pagsisisi. Contrivance, n. [contráivans] Idea, designio, concepto; invencion, artificio. Isipan, paraan, hakà; kathâ. Contrive, v. [contráiv] Idear, imaginar; inventar. Pumaraan, umisip, humakà, humathâ. Control, n. [contról] Sujecion, freno. Panugpô, pangpigil. Control, v. [contról] Reprimir, restringir. Sumugpô, sugpuin; pigilin. Controversial, adj. [contróvercial] Lo que pertenece á las controversias. Nauukol sa pagtatalo. Controversy, n. [contróversi] Controversia, disputa. Pagtatalo. Controvert, v. [contróvert] Controvertir, disputar. Makipagtalo. Contumacious, adj. [contiuméciæs] Contumaz, terco. Matigas ang ulo, mapurol ang ulo. Contumacy, n. [cóntiumesi] Contumacia, terquedad. Katigasan ng ulo, kapurulan ng ulo. Contumelious, adj. [contiumílious] Contumelioso, sarcástico, injurioso, difamatorio. Mapaghamak, mapaglait, mapanirang puri. Contumely, n. [cóntiumeli] Contumelia, ultraje, injuria, menosprecio. Pahamak, lait, paninirang puri. Contuse, v. [contiúz] Contundir, magullar, golpear. Bumugbog, lumamog. Contusion, n. [contiúcion] Contusion. Bugbog. Conundrum, n. [conémdroem] Acertijo, adivinanza. Bugtong. Convalescence, n. [convalésens] Convalecencia. Pagpapalakás pagkatapos na magkasakít. Convalescent, adj. [convalésent] Convaleciente. Nagpapalakas [na galing sa sakít]. Convalescent, n. [convalésent] Convaleciente. Taong bagong kagagalíng sa sakít. Convene, v. [convín] Convocar, congregar. Magpisan, magtipon. Convenience, n. [convíniens] Conveniencia, comodidad, conformidad. Kaukulan, ginghawa, kabagayan. Convenient, adj. [convínient] Conveniente, cómodo, propio. Ukol, bagay, akmâ, marapat. Convent, n. [cónvent] Convento. Bahay-parì, kombento. Convention, n. [convéncien] Convencion, asamblea, congreso. Katipunan, kapulungan, típanan. Conventional, adj. [convéncioenal] Convencional. Pasubalì sa pangyayarihan, kung, pagka.... Conventual, adj. [convénchiual] Conventual. Nauukol sa bahay-parè nauukol sa kombento. Converge, v. [convérdch] Converger, dirigirse á un mismo punto. Magtagpô sa isang dulo ang dalawang guhit. Convergence, n. [convérdchent] Convergencia. Pagtatagpô sa isang dulo ng dalawang guhit. Conversant, adj. [cónvoersant] Versado en, experimentado, familiar. Nakatatalós, nakababatid, sanáy, bihasá, maalam. Conversation, n. [convoersécioen] Conversacion. Sálitaan, úsapan. Converse, v. [cónvoers] Conversar, platicar. Makipag-usap, makipagsalitaan. Converse, n. [cónvoers] Conversacion, plática. Sálitaan, úsapan. Conversion, n. [convercien] Conversión. Pagkaakít, pagbabagong-loob. Convert, v. [convért] Convertir; convertirse. Maakit, magbagong-loob. Convert, n. [convért] Converso. Naakít, nagbagong-loob. Convertible, adj. [convértibl] Convertible, trasmutable. Mangyayaring akitín, nababago. Convex, adj. [cónvecs] Convexo. Kukób, malukom, lukob, umbok ang gitnâ. Convex, n. [cónvecs] Cuerpo circular. Kukób, lukob, lukom. Convey, v. [convé] Trasportar, trasmitir. Maglipat, maghatid. Conveyance, n. [convéant] Conduccion, trasporte. Paghahatid, paglilipat. Convict, adj. [convíct] Convencido. Hikayát, akít. Convict, n. [cónvict] Convicto. Ang kumikilala ng sarilíng sala, ang napakikilalang salarín. Convict, v. [convíct] Convencer. Humikayat, umakít. Conviction, n. [convíccion] Conviccion. Sariling paniniwalà. Convince, v. [convíns] Convencer. Humikayat, umakít. Convivial, adj. [convívial] Sociable, hospitalario. Mabuting makisama, mapagpatuloy. Conviviality, n. [convivíaliti] Sociabilidad. Pakikisama. Convocate, v. [cónvoket] Convocar, citar. Tumawag ng pulong. Convocation, n. [convokécion] Convocacion. Pagpupulong. Convoke, v. [convóc] Convocar, citar. Tumawag ng pulong. Convolve, v. [convólv] Arrollar, revolver. Umikid; ikirin. Convoy, n. [cónvoi] Convoy. Kumboy. Convoy, v. [convói] Convoyar. Maghatid; ihatid. Convulse, v. [convéls] Convelerse; irritarse. Pulikatin; mamanhid. Convulsion, n. [convélcion] Convulsion; espasmo. Pulikat; pamanhid. Convulsive, adj. [convélsiv] Convulsivo. Náuukol sa pulikat. Cony, n. [cóni] Conejo. Koneho. Coo, v. [cu] Arrullar, enamorar. Sumiyap; sumuyò, makiusap ng pag-ibig. Cook, n. [cuc] Cocinero. Manglulutò, tagapangusinà, tagapaglutò, kosinero. Cook, v. [cuc] Cocinar. Maglutò, mangusinà. Cookery, n. [cúkeri] Arte de cocinar. Karunungan sa paglulutò. Cool, adj. [cul] Frio, fresco. Malamig. Cool, v. [cul] Enfriar, refrescar, entibiar, atemperar. Magpalamig; palamigin. Cooler, n. [cúler] Enfriadera. Sisidlang pálamigan. Coolness, n. [cúlnes] Frialdad, tibieza. Lamig, kalamigan. Coom, n. [cum] Hollin de horno; el unto negro que despiden los ejes de las ruedas de los carros y coches. Kulilì ng hurnó; ang nanglalapot na maitim na lumalabas sa mga ehe ng mga gulong ng karro at karwahe. Coop, n. [cup] Caponera, gallinero; redil para ganado lanar. Kulungan, tangkal. Coop, v. [cup] Enjaular, encarcelar. Isilid sa kulungan. Cooper, n. [cúper] Tonelero. Tagagawâ ng bariles. Cooper, v. [cúper] Hacer ó fabricar barriles. Gumawâ ng bariles. Cooperate, v. [coóperet] Cooperar. Tumulong; tulungan. Cooperation, n. [cooperecion] Cooperacion. Tulong. Cooperator, n. [coóperetor] Cooperador. Ang tumutulong. Coordinate, adj. [coórdinet] Coordinado. Kaayos. Coordination, n. [coordinécien] Coordinación. Pagsasaayos. Copartner, n. [copártner] Compañero; socio. Kasama; kasamá. Cope, n. [cop] Capa pluvial. Sutana, damit na mahabà. Cope, v: [cop] Cubrir, competir, contender, disputar. Magtakip; makipaglaban, makipagtalo. Copier, n. [cópier] Copiante, copista. Tagasalin, mánanalin. Coping, n. [cóping] Cumbre de edificio. Taluktok ng gusalì. Copious, adj. [cópioes] Copioso, abundante. Marami, saganà. Copiously, adv. [cópioesli] Copiosamente, en abundancia. Na pagkarami, na pagkasaganà. Copiousness, n. [cópioesnes] Abundancia, copia. Dami, karamihan, saganà, kasaganaan. Copper, n. [cópper] Cobre. Tansong pulá. Coppersmith, n. [cópersmiz] Calderero. Manggagawà sa tansong pulá. Copper-work, n. [cóper-werk] Fábrica de cobre. Gáwaan ng tansong pulá. Copulate, v. [cópiulet] Unir, juntar. Iugnay, isugpong. Copulative, adj. [cópiuletiv] Copulativo, conjuntivo. Pang-ugnay, panugpong. Copy, n. [cópi] Copia, ejemplar de algun libro. Salin. Copy, v. [cópi] Copiar, trasladar algun escrito. Magsalin, humwad, pumaris; isalin. Copy-book, n. [cópibuk] Cuaderno; copiador de cartas. Kwaderno; salinán ng sulat. Copyright, n. [cópirait] La propiedad de una obra literaria. Pagka may arì ng isang kathâ ó akdâ. Coquet, v. [cokét] Cocar, cortejar. Gumirì, magpaibig, lumandî. Coquetry, n. [cokétri] Coquetería. Kalandian, kagaslawan. Coquette, n. [cokét] Coqueta. Landî, magaslaw. Coquettish, n. [cokétish] Coqueta. Landî, magaslaw. Coral, n. [córal] Coral. Koral, bulaklak na bató. Cord, n. [cord] Cuerda, cordel. Lubid, panalì. Cord, v. [cord] Encordelar. Talian ng lubid. Cordage, n. [córdedch] Cordaje. Mga lubid at pisì. Cordial, adj. [córdial] Cordial, sincero. Tapat, tapat na loob. Cordiality, n. [cordiáliti] Cordialidad, sinceridad. Katapatang loob, pagkatapat na loob. Core, n. [cor] Cuesco, fondo ó centro de alguna cosa. Ubod. Cork, n. [cork] Corcho, tapon. Tapon, pasak. Cork, v. [cork] Tapar botellas con corchos. Tapunán, pasakan ng tapon. Corkscrew, n. [córcscriu] Tirabuzon. Tirabusón, pangbunot ng tapon. Corn, n. [corn] Grano, mais, fruto y semilla de las mieses. Mais, butil na gugulayin. Corn, v. [corn] Salar. Asnán. Corn-cob, n. [corncób] Mazorca. Busal ng mais. Corner, n. [córner] Ángulo, esquina, rincon. Sulok, kantó, pánulukan. Cornered, adj. [córnerd] Angulado, esquinado. Nakasulok. Cornet, n. [córnet] Corneta. Korneta, patunog na tansô, tambuling tansô. Cornice, n. [córnis] Cornisa. Gilid ng pinid, gilid. Corona, n. [coróna] Corona. Korona, putong. Coronation, n. [coronécien] Coronacion. Pagpuputong ng korona. Coroner, n. [córoner] Coronel ó oficial que hace la inspeccion jurídica de los cadáveres. Tagalitis ng hukuman sa bangkay. Coronet, n. [córonet] La corona particular que corresponde á los títulos segun su clase. Ang namumukod na korona na naghahayag ng urì ng kataasan. Corporal, adj. [córporal] Corporal, corpóreo. Nahihinggil sa katawan. Corporal, n. [córporal] Cabo. Kabo ng kawal. Corporate, adj. [córporet] Formado en cuerpo ó en comunidad. Kasama, kalakip. Corporation, n. [corporécion] Corporacion. Samahán. Corporeal, adj. [corpórial] Corpóreo. May katawan. Corps, n. [corps] Cuerpo de ejército, regimiento. Hukbó. Corpse, n. [corps] Cadaver. Bangkay. Corpulence, n. [córpiulens] Corpulencia. Kayabungan, yabong. Corpulency, n. [córpiulensi] Corpulencia. Kayabungan, yabong. Corpulent, adj. [córpiulent] Corpulento. Mayabong. Corpus-Christi day, n. Dia de Corpus. Kaarawan ng Korpus. Correct, adj. [corréct] Correcto. Tuós, tamà, matwid. Correct, v. [corréct] Corregir; reprender; castigar. Isaayos; sawayin; parusahan. Correction, n. [corrécien] Correccion, castigo. Paghuhusay, pag-aayos; parusa. Correctness, n. [corréctnes] Exactitud. Katuusan. Correlative, adj. [corréletiv] Correlativo. Kaakmâ, kaadhikâ. Correspond, v. [correspónd] Corresponder. Gumanting-loob; umayon. Correspondence, n. [correspóndens] Correspondencia. Pakikipagsulatan. Correspondent, adj. [correspóndent] Correspondiente, conveniente. Ukol, marapat, ayon. Correspondent, n. [correspóndent] Correspondiente. Tagasulat, katiwalà sa pakikipagsulatan; kasulatán. Corridor, n. [córridor] Corredor. Salas. Corrigible, adj. [córridchibl] Corregible. Máisasaayos, mapabubuti. Corroborate, v. [corróboret] Corroborar. Magpatibay, umayon. Corroboration, n. [corroborécion] Corroboracion. Pagpapatibay, pagsang-ayon. Corrode, v. [corród] Corroer. Sumirà; kalawangin. Corrosion, n [corrócioen] Corrosion. Kasiràan; kalawang. Corrosive, adj. [corrósiv] Corrosivo. Siraín, kálawangin. Corrugate, adj. [córriuguet] Encogido, arrugado. Kulubot. Corrugate, v. [córriuguet] Arrugar. Kumulubot. Corrupt, adj. [corrápt] Corrumpido, depravado. Sirâ, hamak, masamâ, bulok. Corrupt, v. [corrápt] Corromper, infectar, pudrir. Masirà, mabulók, mápahamak. Corruptible, adj. [corráptibl] Corruptible. Siraín, bubúlukin. Corruption, n. [corrápcioen] Corrupcion, vicio, pudredumbre. Pagkasirà, pagkabulok, pagkapahamak. Corruptive, adj. [corráptiv] Corruptivo. Nakasisirà, nakabubulok, nakapagpapahamak. Corsair, n. [corsar] Corsario, pirata. Tulisang dagat. Corselet, n. [córslet] Coselete. Kasakbatan ng kawal na pananggalan ng katawan. Corset, n. [córset] Corsé, corpiño. Kursé. Coruscate, v. [corásket] Relucir, resplandecer. Kuminang, kumintab. Coruscation, n. [coráskecion] Resplandor. Kinang, kintab. Cosmetic, adj. & n. [cozmétic] Cosmético. Anomang kathâ na pangpakinis ng balat. Cosmopolitan, n. [cozmopólitan] Cosmopolita. Tao na ang kinikilalang bayan niya'y ang sangdaigdig. Cost, n. [cost] Coste, precio. Halagá. Cost, v. [cost] Costar. Magkahalagá. Costal, adj. [cóstal] Lo perteneciente á las costillas. Nauukol sa tadyang. Costly, adj. [cóstli] Costoso, suntuoso, caro. Magugol, mahalaga, mahal. Costume, n. [cóstium] Traje, la usanza y estilo de diferentes paises. Pananamit. Cot, n. [cot] Cabaña, choza. Dampâ, bahay na munti kubo. Cotemporary, adj. [cotémporeri] Contemporaneo. Kapanahon, kasabay. Coterie, n. [coterí] Corrillo, coro, tertulia. Umpukan, satsatan. Cotillion, n. [cotílien] Rigodon. Rigudon. Cottage, n. [cótedch] Cabaña, choza. Dampâ, kubo, bahay na muntî. Cotter, n. [cóter] Rústico, aldeano. Taong bukid, taong mababang urì. Cotton, n. [cótn] Algodon; cotonía. Sinulid; bulak. Cotton-mill, n. [cótn-mil] Hilandería de algodon. Sínuliran. Cotton-tree, n. [cótn-tri] Algodonero. Punò ng bulak. Couch, n. [cáutch] Lecho, canapé. Sandalan, hiligán. Cough, n. [cof] Tos. Ubó. Cough, v. [cof] Toser. Umubó. Coulter, n. [cólter] Raja de arado. Sudsod. Councellor, n. [cáuncelor] Concejal, individuo del concejo. Konsehal, kasanggunì. Counsel, n. [cáunsel] Consejo, deliberacion. Payo, hatol, pasiya. Counsel, v. [cáunsel] Aconsejar. Pumayo, humatol. Counsellor, n. [cáunselor] Consejero, confidente. Tagapayo, kasanggunì. Council, n. [cáuncil] Concilio ó consejo. Kapulungan. Count, n. [cáunt] Cuenta. Bilang. Count, v. [cáunt] Contar, numerar. Bumilang. Countenance, n. [cáuntinans] Semblante, aspecto. Pagmumukhâ, anyô. Countenance, v. [cáuntinans] Proteger, favorecer. Kalingain, lingapin. Counter, adv. [cáunter] Contra, al contrario. Laban, bagkus, subalì. Counter, n. [cáunter] Contador. Pangbilang. Counteract, v. [caunteráct] Contrariar, impedir. Hadlangan, pinsalâin. Counteraction, n. [cáunteraccion] Oposicion. Hadlang, tutol. Counterbalance, n. [cáunterbalans] Contrapeso, equilibrio. Pánimbangan. Counterfeit, adj. [cáunterfit] Falsificado, engañoso. Dayà, hwad. Counterfeit, n. [cáunterfit] Falseador, impostor. Magdarayà, manghuhwad. Counterfeit, v. [cáunterfit] Falsear, imitar. Magdayà manghwad. Counterfeiter, n. [cáunterfiter] Falsario. Magdarayà, manghuhwad. Counter-mand, v. [cáunter-mand] Contramandar. Magbago ng utos. Counterpane, n. [cáunterpen] Colcha de cama, sobrecama. Panapin sa hígaan. Counterpart, n. [cáunterpart] Parte correspondiente; duplicado, copia. Kaukulang bahagi; salin. Counterpoise, n. [caunterpó-iz] Contrapeso, equilibrio. Pánimbangan. Counterpoise, v. [caunterpóiz] Contrapesar, contrabalancear. Manimbang. Countersign, n. [cáuntersain] Contraseña. Tandâ na pinakahudyat. Countersign, v. [cáuntersain] Refrendar. Lagdaan ng patibay ang isang batibayan ng sangayon sa kautusan. Countess, n. [cáuntes] Condesa. Kondesa. Counting-house, n. [cáunting-jáus] Despacho. Bahay-túusan, banko. Countless, adj. [cáuntles] Innumerable. Dî mabilang. Countrified, adj. [káuntrifaid] Rústico, campesino. Ukol sa bukid ó parang. Country, adj. [cáuntri] Rústico; campesino, agreste. Ukol sa bukíd ó parang. Country, n. [cáuntri] Pais, region; aldea, campo; patria. Lupain, lupà; parang, bukid; inang-bayan. Country-man, n. [cáuntriman] Paisano, compatriota; aldeano. Kalupain, kababayan; taga bukid, taga nayon. County, n. [cáunti] Condado. Lalawigan. Couple, n. [kopl] Par, lazo. Dalawa, paris, pareha. Couple, v. [kopl] Unir, juntar; casar. Pagsamahin, pagpisanin; pag-asawahin. Couplet, n. [kóplet] Copla. Isang urì ng tulâ. Coupling, n. [kópling] Cópula. Panalì. Courage, n. [kéredch] Corage, valor, bravura. Tapang, lakas ng loob, kabuoan ng loob. Courageous, adj. [kerédches] Corajudo, animoso, valeroso. Matapang, malakas ang loob, buô ang loob. Courier, n. [cúrier] Correo, mensagero. Tagapagdalá ng sulat, at pahatid kawad, utusán. Course, n. [cors] Curso, carrera. Takbó. Course, v. [cors] Cazar, perseguir; corretear. Manghuli ng hayop, humabol; tumakbo. Courser, n. [coúrser] Corcel; corredor ó cazador de liebres. Kabayong matulin; manghuhuli ng liebre. Court, n. [cort] Corte, tribunal de justicia. Húkuman. Court, v. [cort] Cortejar, enamorar, adular. Lumigaw, mangligaw, sumuyò. Courteous, adj. [kérties] Cortés, atento, civil, afable, urbano. Magalang, mapagpitagan, mapagbigay-loob. Courtesy, n. [koúrtisi] Cortesía. Galang, pitagan, pagbibigay-loob. Courtesy, v. [koúrtisi] Hacer una cortesía, hablar ó tratar con cortesía. Magbigay-galang, magbigay-pitagan, magbigayloob. Court-house, n. [court-jáus] Foro, tribunal. Bahay-hukuman. Court-martial, n. [court-márcial] Corte marcial, consejo militar. Hukumang militar; hukumang sundalo. Court-plaster, n. [córt-plaster] Tafetan ingles. Patkó. Courtship, n. [córtship] Cortejo, galantería. Panunuyò, pangliligaw. Cousin, n. [káuzn] Primo ó prima. Pinsan. Cove, n. [cov] Ensenada, caleta. Likô [sa dagat]. Covenant, n. [kóvenant] Pacto, contrato, estipulacion, tratado. Tipan, káyarian, kásunduan, sálitaan. Covenant, v. [kóvenant] Pactar, estipular. Magtipan, magkáyarî, magkásundo. Cover, n. [kóver] Cubierta, tapadera; abrigo, techado. Takip, tungtong, bubong karang, balot. Cover, v. [kóver] Cubrir, tapar. Takpan, tungtungan, atipan. Covering, n. [kóvering] Ropa ó vestido. Damit, suot, balabal. Covert, n. [kóvert] Cubierto, refugio, asilo. Lingid, ampunan, kanlungan, dakong tagô. Coverture, n. [kóverchiur] Abrigo, refugio. Kanlungan, tákbuhan. Covet, v. [kóvet] Codiciar, apetecer, ambicionar. Mag-imbot, maghangad, manakím. Covetous, adj. [kóvetoes] Codicioso, ambicioso. Sakím, mapag-imbot. Covetousness, n. [kóvetoesnes] Codicia, avaricia; ambicion, mezquindad. Kasakiman, imbot, hangad na malabis. Covey, n. [kóvi] Nidada, pollada. Inakáy. Cow, n. [cau] Vaca. Baka. Cow, v. [cau] Acobardar, amedrentar, intimidar. Tumakot, manakot. Coward, n. [cóuard] Cobarde, pusilánime. Dwag, matatakutín, mahinà ang loob. Cowardice, n. [cóuardis] Cobardía, timidez, pusilanimidad. Kadwagan, katakutan, kahinaan ng loob. Cowardly, adj. [cóuardli] Cobarde, pusilánime, tímido. Dwag, matatakutín, mahinà ang loob. Cower, v. [cáuer] Agacharse. Yumukod. Cow-herd, n. [cáujerd] Vaquero. Tagapag-alagà ng baka. Cowl, n. [cául] Capuz. Tukarol ng parè. Coy, adj. [coi] Recatado, reservado, modesto. Walang kibó, mahihiyain. Cozen, v. [kózn] Engañar, defraudar. Magdayà, mangdayà. Cozenage, n. [kóznedch] Fraude, engaño. Dayà, hibò. Crab, n. [crab] Cangrejo. Alimango, alimasag, talangkâ. Crabbed, adj. [crábed] Impertinente, ceñudo, severo. Masungit, mabalasik, matigas ang loob. Crack, n. [crac] Crujido, estallido, estampido; hendedura, quebraje, rotura. Putok, lagutok; lahang lamat, basag. Crack, v. [crac] Hender, rajar, romper; reventar. Pumutok, magkalamat, mabasag. Cracker, n. [cráker] Galleta. Galyetas. Crackle, v. [crácl] Crujir. Humiging, lumagitik, lumagutok, umalatiit. Cradle, n. [credl] Cuna. Duyan. Cradle, v. [credl] Meter en cuna; meser la cuna. Ilagay sa duyan; ipagduyan. Craft, n. [craft] Arte, artificio, astucia. Kathâ, laláng, katusuhan, kaswitikan. Crafty, adj. [cráfti] Astuto, artificioso. Tuso, switik. Crag, n. [crag] Despeñadero, risco. Batong mataas at matarík. Cragged, adj. [crágued] Escabroso, áspero. Lumbaklumbak, hindî patag. Craggy, adj. [crági] Escabroso, áspero. Lumbaklumbak, hindî patag. Cram, v. [cram] Llenar, atracarse de comida. Magpakabundat. Cramp, n. [cramp] Calambre. Pulikat; pamamanhid. Cramp, v. [cramp] Dar ó causar calambre. Pulikatin; mamanhid. Crane, n. [cren] Grulla. Tagak. Cranium, n. [crénioem] Cráneo. Bao ng ulo, bungô. Crank, n. [cranc] Manecilla. Puluhan. Crannied, adj. [cránid] Hendido. Lahang, putók. Cranny, n. [créni] Grieta, hendedura. Lahang, putok, bitak. Crape, n. [crep] Crespón. Kayong manipis at maitim. Crash, n. [crash] Estallido. Putok, lagitik. Crash, v. [crash] Estallar, rechinar. Pumutok, lumagitik. Crate, n. [cret] Cesto grande. Kaíng, lwelang. Crater, n. [créter] Crater. Bungangà ng bulkán. Cravat, n. [cravát] Corbata. Korbata. Crave, v. [crév] Rogar, suplicar, implorar. Mamanhik, dumaing, sumamò. Craven, n. [crévn] Gallo vencido. Tyopè, talunan. Craving, adj. [créving] Pedigüeño. Palahingì, mapaghingì. Craving, n. [créving] Deseo ardiente. Pita. Craw, n. [cro] Buche, bolsa ó seno de las aves. Balunbalunan. Crawfish, n. [crófish] Cangrejo. Alimasag, alimango. Crawl, v. [crol] Arrastrar, hormiguear. Umusad, gumapang. Crayfish, n. [créfish] Cangrejo de rio. Talangkâ. Crayon, n. [créoen] Lapiz. Krayon. Craze, v. [crez] Quebrantar, romper. Mabasag, masirà. Craziness, n. [crézines] Debilidad, locura. Kahinaan, kaululan. Crazy, adj. [crézi] Lelo, loco. Ulol, loko, baliw, sirâ ang ulo, sirâ ang isip. Creak, v. [cric] Crujir. Lumagitik, umalatiit. Cream, n. [crim] Crema. Kakang-gatâ. Creamy, adj. [crími] Lleno de crema. Makakang-gatâ. Crease, n. [cris] Pliegue, plegadura. Kulubot. Crease, v. [cris] Plegar. Pangulubutin. Create, v. [criét] Crear. Lumalang, lumikhâ. Creation, n. [criécion] Creacion. Laláng, likhâ. Creator, n. [criétor] Criador. May-lalang, may-likhâ, may-kapal. Creature, n. [críchur] Criatura. Sanggol; nilaláng, nilikhâ, kinapal. Credence, n. [crídens] Creencia, crédito. Paniwalà, tiwalà. Credential, adj. [cridéncial] Credencial. Mapagkakatiwalaan. Credible, adj. [crédibl] Creible, verosimil. Mapaniniwalaan. Credit, n. [crédit] Crédito, reputacion. Pautang; tiwalà. Credit, v. [crédit] Acreditar, confiar, dar fé. Magpautan, magkatiwalà, maniwalà. Creditor, n. [créditor] Acreedor. Ang nagpapautang, ang pinagkakautangan. Credulity, n. [cridiúliti] Credulidad. Paniniwalà. Credulous, adj. [crédiules] Crédulo. Mapaniwalâin. Creed, n. [crid] Credo. Paniniwalà, panamampalataya. Creek, n. [crik] Arroyo. Batis, munting ilog. Creep, v. [crip] Arrastrar, serpear. Umusad. Creephole, n. [crífol] Huronera. Lunggâ. Cremate, v. [crimét] Incinerar cadaveres. Sumunog ng bangkay. Cremation, n. [crimécion] Cremacion. Pagsunog ng bangkay. Crescent, n. [crésent] Creciente. Paglaki ng bwan. Crest, n. [crest] Cresta. Palong. Crested, adj. [crésted] Crestado. May palong. Crestfallen, adj. [créstfoln] Acobardado, abatido de espíritu. Balî ang palong, nadudwag, sirâ ang loob. Cretaceous, adj. [critécioes] Cretáceo. Maapog. Crevice, n. [crévis] Raja, hendedura, abertura. Pwang, putok, bitak. Crew, n. [críu] Cuadrilla, banda, tropa; tripulacion. Pulutong, kawan; ang mga taga bapor ó taga sasakyang tubig. Crewel, n. [críuel] Ovillo de estambre. Torsilya. Crib, n. [crib] Pesebre, choza. Pásabsaban, labangán; dampâ, kubo. Crib, v. [crib] Enjaular. Kulungin. Cribble, n. [críbl] Criba. Bithay. Crick, n. [cric] Chirrido; calambre del cuello. Huni paninigas ng leeg. Cricket, n. [críket] Grillo. Kuliglig. Crier, n. [cráioer] Pregonero. Mánanawag. Crime, n. [cráim] Crimen, delito. Sala, kasalanan. Criminal, adj. & n. [críminal] Criminal, reo. Salarín, makasalanan. Criminality, n. [crimináliti] Criminalidad. Kasalanan, kabalakyutan. Criminate, v. [críminet] Acriminar. Magparatang, magbigaysala. Crimination, n. [criminécioen] Criminacion. Paratang, pagbibigaysala. Crimp, n. [crimp] Reclutador. Tagahanap ng taong kinakailangan sa hukbó maging sa lupà at maging sa dagat. Crimp, n. [crimp] Rizar, encrespar. Mangulót, mangulubot. Crimson, adj. & n. [crímsoen] Carmesí. Pulang matinkad. Crimson, v. [crímzoen] Teñir de carmesí. Tinain ng pulang matingkad. Cringe, n. [crindch] Bajeza. Pagpapakababà, sukò. Cringe, v. [crindch] Adular con bajeza. Sumuyò, manuyò. Crinkle, n. [críncl] Vueltas y revueltas, sinuosidades. Papihitpihit, palikawlikaw. Crinkle, v. [críncl] Serpentear. Magpalikawlikaw. Cripple, adj. & n. [crípl] Estropeado. Salâ gayâ ng kimaw, pilay, lumpó. Crisis, n. [cráisis] Crisis. Masamang lagay ng lakad ng pangangalakal ó pananalapî. Crisp, adj. [crisp] Crespo, rizado. Kulot. Crisp, v. [crisp] Crespar, rizar. Kumulot; kulutín. Crispness, n. [críspnes] Encrespadura. Pagkukulot. Criterion, n. [craitérioen] Criterio. Sariling hakà. Critic, n. [crític] Crítico. Mámumuna, taga puná. Critical, adj. [crítical] Crítico. Pupúnahin. Criticism, n. [crítisizm] Crítica. Puná. Criticize, v. [crítisaiz] Criticar; censurar. Pumuná, pumulà, pumintas. Croak, n. [croc] Graznido [de cuervos,] canto [de ranas]. Huni [ng uwak]; kokak [ng palakâ]. Croak, v. [croc] Graznar. Humuni, kumokak. Crock, n. [croc] Vasija de barro. Sisidlang lupà. Crockery, n. [crókoeri] Vasijas de barro. Mga sisidlang-lupà. Crocodile, n. [crócodail] Cocodrilo. Bwaya. Crocus, n. [crókoes] Azafran. Kasubhâ. Croft, n. [croft] Aledaño de una tierra; huerta pequeña cercada. Pitak na lupà, munting bukid. Crone, n. [cron] Anciana, vieja, una tia. Matandang babae, impó, ali. Crony, n. [cróni] Compinche, camarada. Kalaguyop, kasama. Crook, n. [cruc] Gancho; garfio. Kalawít; tagâ. Crook, v. [cruc] Encorvar, torcer. Baluktutin. Crooked, adj. [crúked] Corvo, torcido. Baluktot. Crop, n. [crop] Buche de ave; cosecha. Balunbalunan; ani, inani, ginapas. Crop, v. [crop] Segar ó cortar las mieses ó yerba. Umani, gumapas. Crosier, n. [cródcher] Cayado ó báculo pastoral de obispo. Tungkod ng obispo. Cross, adj. [cros] Contrario, opuesto; enojado, enfadado. Kalaban, katalo; galít, mabigat ang loob, masamâ ang loob. Cross, n. [cros] Cruz; peso, carga, trabajo; pena, afliccion. Krus; pasan, hirap; dalamhatì. Cross, v. [cros] Atravesar, cruzar; señalar con la señal de la cruz. Magbagtas, manahak; mag-antandâ. Cross-armed, adj. [cros-armd] El que tiene los brazos cruzados. Nakahalukipkip. Cross-bar, n. [crós-bar] Travesaño. Anamán. Cross-bow, n. [crósbo] Ballesta. Panà. Cross-examination, n. [cros-eksaminécioen] Repregunta á un testigo. Pagtatanong sa saksí. Cross-examine, n. [cros-eksámin] Repregunta á un testigo. Tanungin ang saksí. Cross-eyed, n. [crós-aid] Bizco, bisojo. Dulíng, sulimpat. Cross-grained, adj. [crósgrend] Perverso, intratable. Balakyot, swail. Crossing, n. [crósing] Cruzamiento de dos vias. Pagkakakurus ng dalawang daan. Crossly, adv. [crósli] Contrariamente. Patiwalî, pasalungat, may kasungitan. Crossness, n. [crósnes] Enfado, enojo. Gálit, bigat ng loob, kasungitan. Crosspurpose, n. [cróspoerpoes] Disposicion contraria. Pasiyang tiwalî. Cross question, v. [crós-cuestioen] Repreguntar á un testigo. Tanungin ang isang saksí. Crossroad, n. [crósrod] Cruzamiento de dos caminos. Pagkakakurus ng dalawang daan. Cross-timber, n. [crós-timber] Travesaño. Anamán, barakilan. Crossway, n. [cróswe] Camino de travesía. Daang bagtasan, daang pasihará. Crotch, n. [crotch] Gancho, corchete. Gancho, pangkawing. Crotchet, v. [cróchet] Corchar. Gumanchillo. Crouch, v. [cráutch] Agacharse. Yumukô; yumukod. Croup, n. [crup] Obispillo ó rabadilla de ave; el trasero de una persona. Ang butong likod ng ibon; ang likuran ninoman. Crow, n. [cro] Cuervo. Uwak. Crow, v. [cro] Cantar el gallo. Tumilaok. Crowbar, n. [cróbar] Barreta. Bareta. Crowd, n. [cráud] Tropel, gentío, turba, muchedumbre. Bunton ng tao, kakapalán ng tao, karamihan, siksikan ng tao. Crowd, v. [cráud] Amontonar, atestar; apiñarse. Mábunton, magkarami; magkasiksikan ang tao. Crown, n. [cráun] Corona; premio. Putong, korona; gantingpalà. Crown, v. [cráun] Coronar; recompensar. Magputong ng korona, magbigay ng gantingpalà. Crucial, adj. [criúcial] En forma de la cruz, crucial. Anyong kurús, tila kurús. Crucible, n. [criúsibl] Crisol. Pangpatunaw. Crucifix, n. [criúcifics] Crucifijo. Larawan ng Pg. Jesu-Kristo na nakapakò ng padipa sa kurús. Crucifixion, n. [criusifíccioen] Crucifixion. Pagpapakò ng padipa sa kurús. Crucify, v. [criúsifay] Crucificar. Magpakò ng padipá sa kurús. Crude, adj. [criúd] Crudo. Hilaw, bubót. Crudely, adv. [criúdli] Crudamente. May kahilawán; may kabubután. Crudeness, n. [criúdnes] Crudeza. Kahilawan, kabubután. Crudity, n. [criúditi] Crudeza. Kahilawan, kabubután. Cruel, adj. [criú-el] Cruel, inhumano. Mabagsik, malupit, tampalasan, balakyot. Cruelly, adj. [criú-eli] Cruelmente, inhumanamente. May kabagsikan, kalupitlupit, may pagkatampalasan. Cruelty, n. [criúelti] Crueldad. Kabagsikan, kalupitan, katampalasanan, kabalakyutan. Cruet, n. [criúet] Vinagrera. Lalagyan ng sukà. Cruise, n. [criúz] Jicara ó taza pequeña; corso. Munting tasa; panghuhuli ng mga tulisang dagat. Cruise, v. [criúz] Piratear. Manulisan sa dagat. Cruiser, n. [criúzer] Crucero. Sasakyang-dagat na pangdigmà. Crum, n. [cram] Miga. Mumo, butil, munting putol. Crumb, n. [cram] Miga. Mumo, butil, munting putol. Crumble, v. [crambl] Desmigajar, desmenuzar. Pagputolputulin ng mumuntî, gutayin, humimay, lumagas. Crummy, adj. [crámi] Blando, tierno. Malambot. Crumple, v. [crampl] Arrugar. Mangulubot. Crunch, v. [cranch] Mascar haciendo ruido. Ngumasab. Cruor, n. [criúor] Cruor, sangre coagulada. Dugong namuô. Crupper, n. [crápoer] Grupa. Batikola. Crusade, n. [criésed] Cruzada. Ang malaking pakikidigma ng hukbong kristyano noong araw laban sa mga moro. Cruset, n. [criúset] Crisol de orifice ó platero. Ang ipinangtutunaw ng mga platero. Crush, n. [croesh] Colision, choque. Bunggô, banggâ, umpog. Crush, v. [croesh] Apretar, oprimir. Higpitan; uminis, pumighatì; diinan, pisain. Crust, n. [croest] Costra; corteza. Upak, balat. Crusty, adj. [crásti] Costroso. Maupak, mabalat. Crutch, n. [cretch] Muleta. Tungkod. Cry, n. [cray] Alarido, grito; llanto. Sigaw, hiyaw, iyak, tangis. Cry, v. [cray] Gritar, vocear; llorar. Sumigaw, humiyaw; umiyak, tumangis. Crypt, n. [cript] Bóveda subterranea. Bóbeda sa ilalim ng lupà. Crystal, n. [cristal] Cristal. Kristal, bubog. Crystalline, adj. [crístalain] Cristalino. Parang kristal, parang bubog. Crystallize, v. [crístalaiz] Cristalizar. Gawíng parang kristal ó bubog; liwanagan. Cub, n. [koeb] Cachorro de la osa. Batang oso. Cub, v. [koeb] Parir [la osa]. Manganak ang oso. Cube, n. [kiub] Cubo. Kubo, tangkalag. Cubic, adj. [kiúbik] Cúbico. Nauukol sa kubo. Cubit, n. [kiúbit] Codo. Isang siko. Cucumber, n. [kiúcoemboer] Pepino. Pepino. Cud, n. [koed] Panza; primer estómago de los rumiantes. Sikmurà ng mga hayop na umuungal. Cuddle, v. [kadl] Agacharse. Yumukod, yumukô. Cudgel, n. [kádchel] Garrote ó palo. Panghampas, pamalò; pangbugbog. Cudgel, v. [kádchel] Apalear. Humampas, pamalò, bumugbog. Cue, n. [kiu] Cola. Buntot. Cuff, n. [koef] Puñado, manotada ó bofeton; vuelta de manga de vestido. Suntok; manggás. Cuff, v. [koef] Dar de puñadas. Sumuntok, manuntok. Culinary, adj. [kiúlineri] Culinario, lo perteneciente á la cocina. Nauukol sa kusinà. Cull, v. [koel] Escoger, elegir. Pumilì, humirang. Cully, n. [kéli] Bobo. Ungás. Culm, n. [koelm] Carbon de piedra en polvo. Uling na bató na durog. Culminate, v. [kélminet] Culminar. Mápataas sa kataastaasan. Culpability, n. [koelpabíliti] Culpabilidad. Sala, kasalanan. Culpable, adj. [kélpabl] Culpable, criminal. Salarín, makasalanan. Culprit, n. [kélprit] Reo culpado, criminal. Ang may sala ó kasalanan. Cultivate, v. [kéltivet] Cultivar, labrar. Luminang, bumukid, bumungkal ng lupà. Cultivation, n. [keltivécion] Cultivacion; cultivo. Paglinang, pagbukid, pagbungkal ng lupà. Cultivator, n. [kéltivetor] Cultivador. Manglilinang, mangbubukid, mangbubungkal ng lupà. Culture, n. [kúlchur] Cultura. Pagpapainam ng lupà; pagpapatalino sa tao. Cumber, v. [kámber] Embarazar, estorbar; impedir, incomodar. Humadlang, humalang, pumigil. Cumbersome, adj. [kámbersam] Engorroso, embarazoso, pesado, fastidioso, molesto. Nakakaabala, nakayayamot, nakaiinip. Cumbrance, n. [kámbrans] Carga, peso, obstáculo, molestia. Pasan, hadlang, abala, ligalig, bagabag. Cumulate, v. [kiúmiulet] Acumular, amontonar. Magbunton, magsalansan, mag-ipon. Cumulative, adj. [kiúmiuletiv] Cumulativo. Náibubunton, náisasalansan, naiipon. Cunning, adj. [káning] Experto; astuto, sutil. Bihasá, matalinò; tuso, switik. Cunning, n. [káning] Habilidad, destreza; astucia, sutileza. Kakayahan, kaliksihan, katalinuan; katusuhan; kaswitikan. Cup, n. [cap] Copa, taza. Kopa, tasa. Cupbearer, n. [kápbirer] Copero. Tagapagdalá ng kopa ó tasa. Cupboard, n. [kábord] Armario ó alacena. Páminggalan. Cupidity, n. [kiupíditi] Concupiscencia. Hángaring mahalay ng katawan. Cur, n. [kær] Perro de mala ralea; villano. Asong walang kabuluhan; hamak. Curable, adj. [kiúrabl] Curable. Magagamot, mapagagalíng. Curate, n. [kiúret] Cura, párroco. Kura, parè. Curative, adj. [kiúretiv] Curativo. Nakagagamót, nakagagalíng. Curator, n. [kiurétor] Curador; guardian. Manggagamot; katiwalà ng yama't pag-aarì ng iba. Curb, n. [kærb] Freno, restriccion. Pamigil, pangpigil. Curb, v. [kærb] Refrenar, contener. Pumigil; pigilin. Curd, n. [kærd] Cuajada, requeson. Gatas na pinapamuô. Curd, v. [kærd] Cuajar, coagular. Pamuuin, palaputing maigi. Curdle, v. [kárdl] Cuajarse, coagularse; cuajar, coagular. Mamuô, lumapot; pamuuin, palaputing maigi. Cure, n. [kiur] Cura, remedio, medicamento. Gamot, kagamutan, lunas. Cure, v. [kiur] Curar, sanar. Gumamot, magpagaling. Curfew, n. [kárfiu] Guardafuego, tapador de chimenea. Panakip sa apoy; takip ng chimenea. Curiosity, n. [kiuriósiti] Curiosidad. Ang kinátatangahan; kulukutí. Curious, adj. [kiúrios] Curioso. Masinop, mainam. Curl, n. [kærl] Rizo de pelo. Kulot ng buhok. Curl, v. [kærl] Rizar ó encrespar el pelo. Kulutín ang buhok. Curling-iron, n. [kærling-áirn] Escrespador. Pangulót, pangkulot. Curling-tongs, n. [kærling-tongz] Encrespador. Pangulot, pangkulot. Curly, adj. [kérli] Rizado. Kulót. Curmudgeon, n. [kár-mádchen] Hombre tacaño, mezquino. Maramot, makimot. Currency, n. [kárrensi] Circulacion, valor corriente de alguna cosa. Salaping karaniwan, halagang tanyag. Current, adj. [kárrent] Corriente, comun; general, pasable. Karániwan, lakad.... ng.... Current, n. [kárrent] Corriente. Agos. Curry, v. [kár-ri] Zurrar, almohazar. Linisin ang kabayo. Curry-comb, n. [kárri-com] Almohaza. Panglinis ng kabayo. Curse, n. [kars] Maldicion; imprecacion.. Sumpâ; tungayaw, lait. Curse, v. [kars] Maldecir; imprecar, blasfemar. Sumumpâ, manumpâ; tumungayaw, lumait. Cursed, adj. [kársed] Maldito, aborrecible, malvado. Sinumpâ, hamak, kapootpoot. Cursory, adj. [kársori] Precipitado, inconsiderado. Mádalîan, biglâ, pabayà. Curt, adj. [kært] Sucinto. Maiklî. Curtail, v. [kartél] Cortar, abreviar. Paikliin, iklian. Curtain, n. [kárten] Cortina; telon en los teatros. Tabing, kortina; telon sa palabas dulaan. Curtain, v. [kárten] Proveer con cortinas. Magtabing; lagyan ng tabing. Curtsy, n. [kértsi] Saludo á una mujer. Batì ó yukod sa isang babae. Curvated, adj. [kárvated] Corvo, encorvado. Baluktot, balikucô. Curvation, n. [karvécion] Encorvadura. Pagkabaluktot, pagkabalikukô. Curvature, n. [kérvechiur] Curvatura. Kabaluktutan. Curve, adj. [karv] Corvo, torcido. Baluktot, balikukô. Curve, n. [karv] Corva. Alak-alakán. Curve, v. [karv] Encorvar. Bumaluktot. Curvity, n. [kárviti] Curvatura. Kabaluktutan. Cushion, n. [cúshon] Cojin, almohada. Úpuan ó sandalan na unan. Cuspidal, adj. [késpidal] Puntiagudo. Matulis ang dulo. Custard, n. [kástard] Natillas. Lechelan. Custodian, n. [kustódian] Custodio. Bantay, tanod. Custody, n. [kústodi] Custodia, cuidado. Pagbabantay, pag-iingat. Custom, n. [kástam] Costumbre, uso; derechos de aduana. Ugalì, kaugalian, asal, kaasalan; singil ng aduana. Custom, v. [kástam] Pagar los derechos de aduana. Magbayad ng singíl ng aduana. Customary, adj. [kástameri] Usual, acostumbrado, ordinario. Kaugalian, karaniwan. Customer, n. [kástamer] Parroquiano. Sukì. Custom-house, n. [kástamjaus] Aduana. Adwana. Cut, n. [kat] Corte, tajada. Putol, hiwà, gilit. Cut, v. [kat] Cortar, hender, partir. Pumutol, humiwà, gumilit. Cutaneous, adj. [kiuténies] Cutáneo. Nauukol sa kutis. Cuticle, n. [kiúticl] Cutícula, epidérmis. Balok. Cutlass, n. [kátlas] Espada ancha, alfanje. Isang urì ng tabak. Cutler, n. [kátler] Cuchillero. Ang nagbibilí ng mga kasangkapang panghiwà, panggupit, ibp. Cutlery, n. [kátleri] Cuchillería. Mga kasangkapang panghiwà. Cutlet, n. [kátlet] Chuleta. Limpak na karné. Cutter, n. [káter] Cortador. Tagahiwà. Cutthroat, n. [kát-zrot] Asesino. Mámamatay-tao. Cutting, n. [kátting] Cortadura. Paghiwà, pagputol, paggilit. Cycle, n. [sáicl] Periodo de tiempo. Sanggayong panahon. Cyclone, n. [sáiclon] Tempestad. Bagyó, búhawi. Cylinder, n. [sílinder] Cilindro. Bilog. Cylindric, adj. [silíndric] Cilíndrico. Mabilog. Cylindrical, adj. [silíndrical] Cilíndrico. Mabilog. Cymbal, n. [símbal] Címbalo. Símbalo. Cynic, n. [sínic] Cínico. Taong masungit. Cynical, adj. [sínical] Cínico. Masungit. Cyon, n. [sáion] Verdugo. Berdugo. Czar, n. [zar] Zar. Harì sa Rusya. Czarina, n. [zarína] Zarina. Reyna sa Rusya. Czarowitz, n. [zarówits] Hijo Primogenito del Zar. Panganay ng harì sa Rusya. D Dab, n. [dab] Pedazo pequeño de alguna cosa; salpicadura; golpe blando. Munting putol; pilansik; hampas na marahan, tapík. Dab, v. [dab] Rociar. Diligín, wisikan. Dabble, v. [dábl] Rociar. Diligín, wisikan; magwilig, pamilansikin. Daddy, n. [dádi] Papá. Tatay, itay. Dagger, n. [dáguer] Daga, puñal. Talibóng, almas na maiklí at magkabila'y patalím, panaksak. Daily, adj. [deíli] Diario, cotidiano. Pang-araw-araw. Daily, adv. [deíli] Diariamente, cada dia. Araw-araw. Dainty, adj. [dénti] Delicado, elegante. Mainam; masarap. Dainty, n. [dénti] Bocado exquisito. Bagay na mainam, bagay na masarap. Dairy, n. [déri] Lechería, quesera. Tindahan ng gatas at keso; gáwaan ng keso. Dairy-maid, n. [dérimed] Lechera, mantequera. Maggagatás, magkekesó. Daisy, n. [dési] Margarita (nombre de flor y de persona). Pangalan ng bulaklak at ng babae. Dale, n. [del] Cañada, valla. Parang. Dalliance, n. [dálians] Diversion; juguete; dilacion. Líbangan, laruan; pagtatagal, paglulwat. Dally, v. [dáli] Juguetear, divertirse, burlarse; dilatar, suspender, hacer pasar el tiempo con gusto. Maglarô, maglibáng, magbirô; maglwat, magtagal, magpagayon-gayon. Dam, n. [dam] La madre en los animales; presa ó represa de agua. Inahín, iná; salopilan; harangan ng tubig. Dam, v. [dam] Represar; cerrar, tapar. Harangin ang agos ng tubig. Damage, n. [dámedch] Daño, detrimento. Sirà, kasiraan. Damage, v. [dámedch] Dañar. Sumirà. Damageable, adj. [dámedchabl] Susceptible de daño. Sisirâin. Damask, n. [dámasc] Damasco, tela de lino. Damasco, kayong lino. Dame, n. [dem] Dama, señora. Babaing mahal, babaing ginoo. Damn, v. [dam] Condenar, despreciar. Tungayawin, alipustain, laitin. Damp, adj. [damp] Húmedo. Halomigmig, basâ. Damp, n. [damp] Humedad. Halomigmig, basâ. Dampen, v. [dámpen] Humedecer. Paghalomigmigin. Damper, n. [dámper] Apagador. Pangharang sa asó. Dampness, n. [dámpnes] Humedad. Halomigmig. Damsel, n. [dámzel] Damisela, señorita. Binibini. Dance, n. [dans] Danza, baile. Sayaw, sáyawan. Dance, v. [dans] Bailar. Sumayaw, magsayaw. Dancer, n. [dánser] Danzarín, bailarín. Mánanayaw. Dandle, v. [dándl] Mecer; alagar, acariciar. Iugoy; palayawin, libangin. Dandruff, n. [dándraf] Caspa. Balakubak. Dandy, n. [dándi] Petimetre, currutaco. Mapagmakinís, palasunod sa moda. Danger, n. [déndcher] Peligro, riesgo. Panganíb, kapanganiban. Dangerous, adj. [déndcheras] Peligroso. Mapanganib. Dangle, v. [dángl] Soltar, colgar; hacer la corte con adulacion á alguno. Iladlad, isabit, ibitin; manuyò. Dank, adj. [danc] Húmedo. Halomigmig. Dapper, n. [dáper] Activo, vivaz, despierto. Buháy ang loob, maliksí, bibo. Dare, v. [dær] Osar, atrever, arriesgarse. Mangahas; pangahasan. Daring, adj. [déring] Osado, atrevido, arriesgado. Pangahas. Daring, n. [déring] Osadía. Kapangahasan. Dark, adj. [darc] Obscuro, opaco. Malabò, madilim. Dark, n. [darc] Obscuridad. Labò, dilím. Darken, v. [dárkn] Obscurecer, obscurecerse. Dumilim, magdilim; lumabò, manglabò. Darkness, n. [dárknes] Obscuridad, tinieblas. Kadiliman, kalabuan. Darksome, adj. [dárksam] Obscuro, opaco. Kulimlim; malabò. Darling, adj. & n. [dárling] Predilecto, favorito. Sinta, irog, giliw. Darn, v. [darn] Zurcir. Magsursí, magtagpî. Darnel, n. [dárnel] Zizaña. Damong pangsirà ng palay, damong hinihimamát. Dart, n. [dart] Dardo. Palasô, panà, suligì. Dart, v. [dart] Lanzar, arrojar, tirar. Magpahilagpos ng panà, ibp. Dash, n. [dash] Colision, golpe, choque. Bunggô, banggâ, umpog. Dash, v. [dash] Arrojar, estallar, chocar. Dumaluhong, sumagasà, bumanggâ. Dastard, n. [dástard] Cobarde, tímido. Dwag, matatakutín. Date, n. [dæt] Data, fecha. Kaarawan, pecha. Date, n. [dæt] Dátil. Rátiles. Date, v. [dæt] Datar, fechar. Magtakdâ ng kaarawan, ilagdâ ang pecha. Daub, v. [dob] Untar con alguna cosa pegajosa; adornar con ostentacion, manchar. Palagkitin; palamutihan; dumhan, dungisan. Daughter, n. [dóter] Hija. Anák na babae. Daunt, v. [dont] Intimidar, espantar. Tumakot, manggulat. Dauntles, adj. [dóntles] Intrépido, arrojado. Mapusok. Dawdle, v. [dódl] Gastar tiempo. Sumayang ng panahon. Dawn, n. [don] Alba, albor. Bukang-liwayway. Dawn, v. [don] Amanecer. Mag-umaga, mag-bukang liwayway. Day, n. [dey] Dia. Araw, kaarawan. Day-before-yesterday, adv. [dey-bifór-yésterdey] Anteayer, antes de ayer. Kamakalawa, noong makalawa. Day-book, n. [dé-buk] Diario. Aklat na tálaan ng kita't gugol sa araw-araw. Day-break, n. [débric] Alba. Madaling-araw. Day-laborer, n. [dé-léborer] Jornalero. Mang-aaráw. Day-light, n. [délait] Luz del dia. Liwanag ng araw. Day-spring, n. [déspring] Alba. Madaling araw. Day-time, n. [détaim] Tiempo del dia. Boong araw mulá sa pagbubukang liwayway hanggang pagtatakip-silim. Daywork, n. [déwerk] Jornal. Aráw, pinag-arawán. Daze, v. [dæz] Cansar; confundir, ofuscar. Mamagod, tumulig, sumilaw. Dazzle, v. [dázl] Deslumbrar, ofuscar. Sumilaw. Deacon, n. [dikn] Diácono. Diákono. Deaconess, n. [díkones] Diaconisa. Diakonisa. Dead, adj. [ded] Muerto. Patáy. Dead, n. [ded] El difunto, el hombre muerto. Ang namatay, ang nanaw. Deaden, v. [dédn] Amortiguar, amortecer. Patayin. Deadly, adj. [dédli] Mortal, terrible. Nakamamatay, nakapangingilabot. Deaf, adj. [def] Sordo. Bingí. Deafen, v. [défn] Ensordecer. Bingihin. Deaf-mute, n. [défmiut] Sordomudo. Taong bingi't pipi. Deafness, n. [défnnes] Sordera. Kabingihan, pagkabingí. Deal, n. [dil] Parte. Bahagi, hatì. Deal, v. [dil] Distribuir, repartir; traficar. Magbahagi, maghatì; mangalakal. Dealer, n. [díler] Comerciante, mercader. Mángangalakal. Dealing, n. [díling] Conducta, trato; tráfico, comercio. Asal, pangungugalì; pangangalakal, paghahanap-buhay. Dean, n. [din] Dean. Dean, kura sa katedral. Dear, adj. [diær] Querido, caro, amado; caro, costoso. Minamahal, ginigiliw, iniibig, iniirog; mahal. Dearth, n. [derz] Carestía. Kasalatán, kawalán. Death, n. [dez] Muerte. Kamatayan, pagkamatay. Death-bed, n. [dézbed] Cama del moribundo. Hígaang pinaghingaluan. Death-bell, n. [dézbel] Toque de agonia. Agunyás. Death-blow, n. [dézblo] Golpe mortal. Suntok ó bugbog na sapat makamatay. Deathless, adj. [dézles] Inmortal. Walang kamatayan. Death-penalty, n. [déz-pénalti] Pena de muerte. Parusang kamatayan. Death-warrant, n. [dez-wórant] Sentencia de muerte. Hatol na kamatayan. Debar, v. [díbar] Excluir. Ihiwalay, ibukod. Debase, v. [dibés] Humillar, envilecer. Pangayupapáin, hamakin. Debasement, n. [dibésment] Abatimiento, envilecimiento. Pangangayupapá, pagkahamak. Debate, n. [dibét] Debate, contienda; disputa. Pagtatalo, pagmamatwiranan. Debate, v. [dibét] Discutir, disputar. Makipagtalo, makipaglaban, makipagmatwiranan. Debauch, n. [dibóch] Exceso, desorden, vida disoluta. Pag-aalibughâ, pagaasal na walang tuos. Debauch, v. [dibóch] Corromper, viciar, pervertir. Magpahamak, humikayat sa kasamaan. Debauchery, n. [dibócheri] Desareglo, desorden, borrachería, libertinaje. Pag-aalibughâ, pamumuhay ng walang tuos, paglalangô. Debilitate, v. [dibílitet] Debilitar. Manghinà, huminà. Debility, n. [dibíliti] Debilidad. Panghihinà. Debit, n. [débit] Debe. Utang. Debit, v. [débit] Adeudar. Pautangin. Debonair, adj. [debonér] Urbano, complaciente. Magalang, mapitagan, mapagbigay-loob. Debt, n. [det] Deuda, débito. Utang. Debtor, n. [détor] Deudor. May-utang, nagkakautang. Debut, n. [début] Debut. Unang pagkalitaw ng anoman; ang unang paghayag ng bagong artista. Decade, n. [dikéd] Década. Sangpung taón. Decadence, n. [dikédens] Decadencia. Panglulupaypay ng anoman. Decadency, n. [dikédensi] Decadencia. Panglulupaypay ng anoman. Decalogue, n. [décalog] Decálogo. Ang sangpung utos. Decamp, v. [dicámp] Decampar; mudar un ejercito su campamento; escapar, poner pies en polvoreda. Lisanin ang kampamento; ilapat ang kampamento; tumakas; kumarimot. Decampment, n. [dicámpment] Levantamiento de un campamento. Paglilipat ng kampamento. Decant, v. [dicánt] Decantar, trasegar. Magbuhos, ibuhos, magsalin, isalin. Decanter, n. [dicánter] Botella de cristal. Sisidlan na kristal. Decapitate, v. [dicápitet] Decapitar, degollar. Pumugot (ng ulo). Decapitation, n. [dicapitécion] Decapitacion, degüello. Pagpugot. Decay, n. [diké] Decaimiento, declinacion. Pagkasirà, pagkabulok, pagsamâ. Decay, v. [diké] Decaer, declinar, empeorar. Masirà, mabulok, sumamâ. Decease, n. [disís] Muerte, fallecimiento. Pagkamatay, pagpanaw. Decease, v. [disís] Morir, fallecer. Mamatay, manaw. Deceit, n. [disít] Engaño, fraude; artificio, treta. Dayà, hibò; laláng. Deceitful, adj. [disítful] Engañoso, fraudulento. Magdarayà, manghihibò. Deceive, v. [disív] Engañar, defraudar. Magdayà, manghibò. December, n. [disémboer] Diciembre. Disyembre. Decency, n. [dísensi] Decencia, modestia. Kilos-mahal, maayos, timtiman, pitagan. Decennary, n. [diséneri] Diezmo. Tagal na sangpung taón. Decennial, adj. [disénial] Decenal. Nauukol sa tagal na sangpung taón. Decent, adj. [dísent] Decente. Mapagkilos mahal, mapitagan, mahinahon. Deception, n. [disépcioen] Decepcion, engaño. Dayà, hibò. Deceptive, adj. [diséptiv] Falaz, engañoso. Nakakadayà, nakakahibò. Decide, v. [disáid] Decidir, determinar, resolver. Magpasya. Decimal, adj. [désimal] Decimal. Ikapuû. Decipher, v. [disáifoer] Descifrar. Tumuring; turingan; maghayag ng kahulugan. Decision, n. [disísioen] Decision, resolucion. Pasya. Decisive, adj. [disáisiv] Decisivo. Mapasisiyahan. Deck, n. [dec] Bordo, cubierta. Lapag ng sasakyan, ang pag-itan ng lapag at takip ng sasakyan. Deck, v. [dec] Ataviar, cubrir. Takpan. Declaim, v. [diclém] Declamar, perorar. Manalitâ, manalaysay. Declamation, n. [diclamécioen] Declamacion. Pananalitâ, pananalaysay. Declaration, n. [declarécioen] Declaracion. Pahayag. Declare, v. [diclér] Declarar. Magpahayag. Declension, n. [dicléncioen] Declinacion, diminucion. Pagbabawas. Decline, n. [dicláin] Declinacion, decadencia. Hilig, kiling, hapay; pag-untî, paghupâ, pagkabawas. Decline, v. [dicláin] Declinar; rehusar; evitar. Humapay, kumiling, humilig; tumanggí; umiwas. Declination, n. [declinécioen] Declinacion, decadencia. Hilig, kiling, hapay; pag-untî, paghupâ pagkabawas. Declivity, n. [diclíviti] Declive. Dalisdis, patalabis, lupang matarík. Decoct, v. [dicóct] Cocer, digerir. Lutuin, labugin. Decoction, n. [dicóccioen] Cocción ó hervor. Pagkalutò, pagkalabog. Decoloration, n. [doekolorécion] Descoloramiento. Pangungupas ng kulay. Decompose, v. [dicompóz] Descomponer. Bumulok, sumirà. Decomposition, n. [dicompozícien] Descomposicion. Pagkabulok, pagkasirà. Decorate, v. [décoret] Decorar, adornar. Maggayak, magpalamutì. Decoration, n. [decorécien] Decoracion. Gayak, palamutì. Decorative, adj. [decorétiv] Decorativo. Panggayak, pangpalamutì. Decorator, n. [decorétor] Decorador, adornista. Tagapaggayak, tagapagpalamutì. Decorous, adj. [décoroes] Decente, decoroso. Mapitagan, mahinhin. Decorum, n. [dicóroem] Decoro, decencia. Pitagan, hinhin. Decoy, n. [dicói] Cazadero con señuelo. Pangangatî ng ibon. Decoy, v. [dicói] Atraer algun pájaro á la jaula con señuelo ó añagaza. Mangatî ng ibon. Decrease, n. [dicrís] Decremento, diminucion. Bawas, kulang. Decrease, v. [dicrís] Decrecer, disminuir, menguar. Magbawas, magkulang. Decree, n. [dicrí] Decreto, edicto. Pasya, utos. Decree, v. [dicrí] Decretar, ordenar. Mag-utos, magpasya. Decrepit, adj. [dicrépit] Decrépito, consumido por la vejez. Mahinà sa katandaan, úlian. Decrepitude, n. [dicrépitiud] Decrepitud, ancianidad; chochez. Kahinaan sa katandaan; pag-uulian. Decrial, n. [dicráial] Gritería; insulto. Takap; tungayaw, lait. Decrier, n. [dicráier] Difamador. Mapanirang puri. Decry, v. [dicrái] Desacreditar, censurar públicamente, disfamar. Manirang puri, mangutyâ, manghalay. Dedicate, v. [dédiket] Dedicar, consagrar. Magtalagá, mag-alay. Dedication, n. [dedikécion] Dedicacion, consagracion. Pagtatalagá, pag-aalay. Dedicator, n. [dédikætor] Dedicante. Ang nag-aalay. Dedicatory, adj. [dédiketori] Lo que toca á la dedicatoria. Nauukol sa alay ó itinalagá. Deduce, v. [didiús] Deducir, derivar. Humangò; hanguin; humulô; umawas. Deduct, v. [didact] Deducir, sustraer. Mag-alis, magkulang, magbawas. Deduction, n. [didáccien] Deduccion. Bawas. Deed, n. [did] Accion, hecho; instrumento auténtico que hace fe. Gawâ; título ó katibayan. Deem, v. [dim] Juzgar, pensar, estimar. Humatol, mag-isip, magwarì, kumurò. Deep, adj. [dip] Hondo, profundo. Malalim. Deep, n. [dip] Piélago. Laot. Deepen, v. [dípn] Profundizar. Tumarok; tarukín; palalimin. Deeply, adv. [dípli] Profundamente. May kalaliman. Deepness, n. [dípnes] Profundidad. Lalim, kalaliman. Deer, n. [dir] Ciervo ó venado. Usá. Deface, v. [difés] Borrar, destruir; desfigurar, afear. Kaskasin, sirain; dungisan, papangitin. Defalcate, v. [difálket] Desfalcar. Sumirà ng salapì ng iba. Defamation, n. [difamécion] Difamacion, calumnia. Paninirang puri. Defamatory, adj. [difamétori] Infamatorio, calumnioso. Nakasisirang puri. Defame, v. [difém] Disfamar, calumniar. Manirang puri, umupasala. Defamer, n. [difámer] Infamador, calumniador. Máninirang puri, mapag-upasala. Default, n. [difólt] Omision, descuido; culpa, delito; defecto, falta. Pagkukulang, pagwawalang bahalà; sala, kamalian. Default, v. [difólt] Faltar. Magkulang, magkasala. Defaulter, n. [difólter] Contumaz, el que no cumple con su deber. Ang hindî tumupad sa katungkulan. Defeat, n. [difít] Derrota, vencimiento. Pagkatalo, pagkálupig, págsukò, pagkásupil, pagkadaig. Defeat, v. [difít] Derrotar, vencer. Lumupig, sumupil magpasukò, dumaig. Defect, n. [diféct] Defecto, falta. Kakulangan, pintas. Defection, n. [diféccien] Defeccion; separacion, abandono. Pagkukulang; pagtiwalag, pagpapabayâ. Defective, adj. [diféctiv] Defectivo, imperfecto. May kulang, hindî ganap, may kapintasan. Defence, n. [diféns] Defensa. Sanggalang, salág; pagsasanggalang, pananalag, pagtatanggol. Defenceless, adj. [difénsles] Indefenso, incapaz de resistir. Walang kayang makapagsanggalang ó makapagtanggol ng sarili. Defend, v. [difénd] Defender. Magsanggalang, magtanggol. Defendant, n. [deféndant] Defensor; reo demandado. Tagapagsanggalang, tagapagtanggol; ang násasakdal. Defensive, adj. [difénsiv] Defensivo. Ukol sa pagsasanggalang ó pagtatanggol. Defer, v. [difér] Diferir, dilatar, retardar, atrasar. Antalahin, binbinin, ipagpaliban. Deference, n. [déferens] Deferencia, respeto, consideracion, condescendencia. Pagsang-ayon, galang, pitagan, pagpayag, pagbibigay-loob. Defiance, n. [difáians] Desafío. Hamon. Deficience, n. [defíciens] Defecto, imperfeccion. Kakulangan. Deficiency, n. [defíciensi] Defecto, imperfeccion. Kakulangan. Deficient, adj. [difícient] Deficiente. Kulang, kapós. Deficit, n. [défisit] Défisit. Kakulangan, kulang. Defile, n. [difáil] Desfiladero. Landas. Defile, v. [difáil] Manchar, ensuciar; corromper. Dumungis, magparumi, sumirà, bumulok. Defilement, n. [difáilment] Corrupcion. Pagkasirà, pagkabulok. Define, v. [difáin] Definir, describir; determinar. Ipahayag ang kahulugan, salaysayin, liwanagin; pasiyahan. Definite, adj. [définit] Definido, exacto. Salaysay ng kahulugan; tuos. Definition, n. [definicien] Definicion. Ang pagsasalaysay ng kahulugan. Deflect, v. [defléct] Desviarse, apartarse. Lumihís, humiwalay. Deflection, n. [defléccien] Desvío, rodeo. Pagkalihis, pagkalisyà. Deflexure, n. [diflécsiur] Torcimiento. Pagkálisyâ. Deflour, v. [difláur] Desvirgar. Manirà ng dalaga. Defoliation, n. [difoliécien] Caida de las hojas. Pagkalaglag ng mga dahon. Deform, v. [difórm] Desformar, desfigurar. Magpapangit, sumirà ng anyô. Deformity, n. [difórmiti] Deformidad. Pagkásirà ng anyô. Defraud, v. [difród] Defraudar. Mangdayà, manekas, manubà. Defray, v. [difré] Costear. Paggugulan, abuluyan. Deft, n. [deft] Despierto, despejado, diestro. Buháy-ang-loob, matalinò, maliksí. Defunct, adj. [difánt] Difunto, muerto. Patay, namatay, nanaw, nasirà. Defy, v. [difái] Desafiar. Humamon, lumaban. Degeneracy, n. [didchéneresi] Degeneracion, bajeza. Pagkahamak, pagkábabâ. Degenerate, adj. [didchéneret] Degenerado. Hamak, walang kabuluhan. Degenerate, v. [didchéneret] Degenerar. Maging hamak, mápababà. Degeneration, n. [didchénerecion] Degeneracion, bajeza. Pagkahamak, pagkábabâ. Degradation, n. [degradécion] Degradacion, degeneracion. Pagkábabâ, pagkahamak. Degrade, v. [digréd] Degradar; deshonrar, envilecer. Mápababâ; manirang puri, humamak. Degree, n. [digrí] Grado; rango; condicion, calidad de una cosa. Grado; urì; klase. Deification, n. [deifikécion] Apoteosis, deificacion. Pagdyos, pag-aring Dyos. Deify, v. [déifay] Deificar, divinizar. Ariing Dyos, Dyosin. Deign, v. [déin] Dignarse. Marapatin. Deism, n. [déizm] Deismo. Ang aral ó pananampalataya ng nananalig na may Dyos. Deist, n. [déist] Deista. Ang nananampalatayang may Dyos. Deity, n. [déiti] Deidad, divinidad. Pagkadyos, kadyosan. Deject, v. [didchéct] Abatir, afligir; desalentar, desanimar. Magpangayupapà, dumalamhatì; magpahinà ng loob. Dejected, adj. [didchécted] Abatido, desalentado. Nangangayupapà, nagdadalamhatì, sirâ ang loob. Dejection, n. [didchéccien] Tristeza, afliccion. Panglaw, lungkot, dalamhatì, hapis. Delay, n. [dilé] Dilacion, tardanza. Pagkaantala, pagkabinbin, pagkapaliban, paglulwat. Delay, v. [dilé] Diferir, retardar. Antalahin, papaglwatin, ipagpaliban. Delectable, adj. [diléctabl] Deleitable, delicioso. Kaayaaya, kalugod-lugod, kawiliwili. Delectation, n. [dilectécien] Deleite, placer. Sayá, lugod, kasayahan. Delegate, n. [déleguet] Delegado, diputado. Kinatawan, kahalili, katiwalà. Delegate, v. [déleguet] Delegar, diputar. Katawanin, pagkatiwalaan. Delegation, n. [deleguécion] Delegacion. Pagkakinatawan. Deleterious, adj. [deletírioes] Deletereo, mortal, destructivo, venenoso. Nakakapahamak, nakamamatay, nakalalasing. Delf, n. [delf] Loza vidriada. Losa. Deliberate, adj. [delíbæret] Cauto, avisado. Maingat, mabait. Deliberate, v. [delíbæret] Deliberar, considerar. Magwarì, maghunos dilí, humulò. Deliberately, adv. [dilíbæretli] Deliberadamente. Maingat, mabait. Deliberation, n. [dilibærécien] Deliberacion, circunspeccion. Pagwawarì, hunos dilì, ingat. Delicacy, n. [délikesi] Delicadeza. Selang, pagkamaselang. Delicate, adj. [déliket] Delicado. Maselang. Delicious, n. [dilícioes] Delicioso, agradable, exquisito. Mainam, kalugod-lugod, masarap. Deliciousness, n. [dilícioesnes] Delicia, gusto. Inam, lugod, sarap. Delight, n. [diláit] Delicia, deleite, placer. Saya, lugod, ligayà, twâ, kagalakan. Delight, v. [diláit] Deleitarse, contentarse. Matwâ, magalak, masiyahan ng loob, malugod. Delightful, adj. [diláitful] Delicioso, deleitoso. Kalugodlugod, kaayaaya. Delineate, v. [delíneet] Delinear, diseñar. Gumuhit, magbigay-anyô. Delineation, n. [dilíneecien] Delineacion. Pagguhit, pagbibigay-anyô. Delinquency, n. [dilíncuensi] Delito, culpa. Sala, pagkalabag sa utos. Delinquent, n. [dilíncuent] Delincuente, criminal. May-sala. Delirious, adj. [dilírioes] Delirante, desvariado. Hibáng. Delirium, n. [dilíroem] Delirio. Pagkahibang. Deliver, v. [dilívær] Dar; rendir; libertar; relatar. Magbigay; magpalayà, magsalaysay. Deliverance, n. [dilíværans] Entrega, libramiento; narracion, parto. Pagbibigay; pananalaysay; panganganak. Delivery, n. [dilíværi] Entrega, libramiento; parto. Pagbibigay; panganganak. Dell, n. [del] Hondonada, valle hondo. Malalim na libís. Delta, n. [délta] Delta. Wawà. Delude, v. [diliúd] Engañar, entrampar. Magdayà, manghibò. Deluge, n. [déliudch] Inundacion, diluvio. Bahâ, apaw ng tubig. Deluge, v. [déliudch] Diluviar. Umapaw ang tubig. Delusion, n. [deliúcien] Engaño, ilusion. Dayà, hibò; pagkahibang. Delusive, adj. [diliúsiv] Engañoso, falaz. Magdarayà. Delve, n. [delv] Foso, hoyo. Hukay. Delve, v. [delv] Cavar; sondear. Humukay; tumarok. Demagogue, n. [démagog] Demagogo. Ang namamatnugot ng palisyâ sa sariling kampon. Demand, n. [dimánd] Demanda, peticion. Hingî, luhog; sakdal. Demand, v. [dimánd] Demandar, reclamar. Humingî, lumuhog; magsakdal. Demarcate, v. [dimarkét] Amojonar. Maglagay ng patoto ó hangganan. Demarcation, n. [dimarkécion] Demarcacion, limite. Patoto, hangganan. Demean, v. [dimín] Portarse, conducirse. Mag-ugalì, mag-asal, magpaka.... Demeanour, n. [diminoer] Porte. Ugalì, asal, kilos, galaw. Demented, adj. [diménted] Demente, loco. Ulol, sirâ ang bait. Demerit, n. [dimérit] Demérito, desmerecimiento. Pintás, pulà. Demerit, v. [dimérit] Desmerecer. Mawalán ng karapatan, mápintasan, mápulaan. Demise, n. [dimáiz] Muerte, fallecimiento. Kamatayan. Demise, v. [dimáiz] Legar. Magpamana. Demission, n. [dimícion] Degradacion, decadencia. Panghihinà. Democracy, n. [dimócrasi] Democracia. Pámahalaang bayan. Democrat, n. [démocrat] Demócrata. Ang mahilig sa pámahalaang bayan. Democratic, adj. [democrátic] Democrático. Náuukol sa pámahalaang bayan. Demolish, v. [dimólish] Demoler, deshacer. Wasakín, sirain, gibain. Demolition, n. [demolícien] Demolicion. Pagwasak, pagsirà, paggibâ. Demon, n. [dímon] Demonio. Demonyo. Demoniac, adj. [dimóniac] Demoniaco, endemoniado. Inaalihan ng demonyo, binábabahán ng demonyo. Demoniacal, adj. [dimóniacal] Demoniaco, endemoniado. Inaalihan ng demonyo, binábabahán ng demonyo. Demonstrable, adj. [dimónstrabl] Demostrable. Náipakikilala, náipaliliwanag. Demonstrate, v. [dimónstret] Demostrar. Magpakilala, magpakita, magpaliwanag. Demonstration, n. [demonstrécion] Demostracion. Pagpapakilala, pagpapakita, paliwanag. Demonstrative, adj. [dimónstretiv] Demostrativo. Nagpapakilala, nagpapakita, nagpapaliwanag. Demoralization, n. [dimoralizécion] Desmoralizacion. Kahalayan. Demoralize, v. [dimóralaiz] Desmoralizar. Gawíng mahalay, sirain ang mabuting ugalì. Demur, n. [dimúr] Duda, escrúpulo, hesitacion. Pag-aalinlangan, pag-aalanganin, tigil. Demur, v. [dimúr] Vacilar, dudar. Mag-alinlangan, mag-alanganin, matigilan. Demure, adj. [dimiúr] Sobrio, moderado. Mahínahon. Demurrer, n. [dimúrer] Demora. Pagkauktol, pagkaudlot, tagal, lwat. Den, n. [den] Caverna, antro. Yungib, lunggâ. Deniable, adj. [dináiabl] Negable. Máikakailâ, máitatanggí, máipagkakait, máipahihindî. Denial, n. [dináial] Denegacion, repulsa. Pagkailâ, pagtanggí, pagkakait, pagpapahindî. Denizen, n. [dénizen] Extrangero, naturalizado. Ang dî kababayan na inaring kabakayan. Denominate, v. [dinóminet] Denominar, nombrar. Panganlan, pamagatan, tawagin. Denomination, n. [dinominécion] Denominacion, nombre, apelativo. Ngalan, tawag, pamagat, bansag. Denote, v. [dinót] Denotar, indicar, significar. Tandaan. Denounce, v. [dínauns] Denunciar, delatar. Magsumbong, magsakdal, magdenunsya. Dense, adj. [dens] Denso, espeso. Masinsín; siksik; malapot. Density, n. [dénsiti] Densidad, solidez. Kasinsinan, siksik; kalaputan. Dent, n. [dent] Muesca. Ukit. Dent, v. [dent] Hacer muesca, abollar. Umukit. Dental, adj. [déntal] Dental. Nauukol sa ngipin. Dentifrice, n. [déntifris] Dentrífico. Pulbos ó anomang panglinis ng ngipin. Dentist, n. [déntist] Dentista. Dentista, manggagamot ó mangbubunot ng ngipin at bagáng. Dentistry, n. [déntistri] Arte del dentista. Panggagamot ó pangbubunot ng ngipin; pagdedentista. Denudation, n. [deniudécioen] Despojo de ropa. Paghubad, paghubò. Denude, v. [diniúd] Desnudar, despojar. Hubarán, hubdán, hubuan. Deny, v. [dinái] Negar, renunciar. Tumanggí, kumailâ pahindî. Deodorize, v. [deodoraiz] Desinficionar. Pumawì ng masamang amoy. Depart, v. [dipárt] Partir ó partirse; morir. Yumaon, umalis; manaw, mamatay. Departure, n. [dipárchur] Partida; muerte. Pagyaon, pag-alís; pagpanaw, pagkamatay. Department, n. [dipártment] Departamento, negociado. Kágawaran. Depend, v. [dipénd] Depender, estar dependiente. Pasaklaw, mápasa ilalim ó kapangyarihan ng sinoman ó anoman. Depict, v. [dipíct] Pintar, retratar; describir. Pumintá, rumetrato, maglarawan. Deplorable, adj. [diplórabl] Deplorable, miserable. Kalunos-lunos, kahapishapis, abâ. Deplore, v. [diplór] Deplorar, lamentar. Malunos, mahapis, magdamdam. Deport, n. [dipórt] Porte, conducta; destierro, deportacion. Ugalì; asal; pagtatapon sa ibang bayan. Deport, v. [dipórt] Portarse, conducirse; desterrar. Mag-ugalì, mag-asal, ipatapon. Deportation, n. [diportécioen] Deportacion, destierro. Pagpapatapon. Deportment, n. [dipórtment] Porte, conducta. Ugalì, asal. Deposal, n. [dipózal] Deposicion. Pag-aalis ng katungkulan. Depose, v. [dipóz] Deponer, destituir. Alisin sa katungkulan. Deposit, n. [dipózit] Depósito. Lagak. Deposit, v. [dipózit] Depositar. Maglagak. Deposition, n. [dipozícioen] Deposicion. Pag-aalis sa katungkulan. Depot, n. [dipót] Depósito, almacen. Lágakan, depósito. Depravation, n. [depravécioen] Depravacion, corrupcion. Kasiráan, kabulukán. Deprave, v. [diprév] Depravar, corromper. Sumirà, bumulok. Depraved, adj. [diprévd] Depravado, corrompido. Sirâ, bulok. Depravity, n. [dipráviti] Depravacion, corrupcion. Kasiráan, kabulukán. Deprecate, v. [dépriket] Deprecar, rogar, suplicar. Sumamò, sumuyò, mamanhik. Deprecation, n. [deprikécioen] Deprecacion, ruego, peticion. Samò, suyò, pamanhík. Depreciate, v. [dipríciæt] Rebajar el precio; despreciar, menospreciar. Babáan ng halagá; humamak, alanganín. Depreciation, n. [dipriciécien] Descrédito, desestimacion. Pagkáhamak, pagkasirà ng kamahalan. Depredate, v. [dépridet] Depradar, saquear. Maniíl, mangloób. Depredation, n. [depridécioen] Depredacion, saqueo. Paniniil, pangloloob. Depress, v. [diprés] Deprimir, humillar. Hamakin, papagpakumbabáin. Depression, n. [diprécien] Depresion, abatimiento. Pagkaabâ, págkakapakumbabâ. Depressive, adj. [diprésiv] Depresivo. Nakakahamak, nakaaabâ. Deprivation, n. [deprivécien] Privacion, pérdida. Pagkakabawà, pagbabawà, pagkawalâ. Deprive, v. [dipráiv] Privar, despojar. Bawaan, alisan ng pagaarì ó kapangyarihan. Depth, n. [depz] Hondura, profundidad, abismo. Lalim, kalaliman. Deputation, n. [depiutécien] Diputacion. Pagkakinatawan, pagkasugò. Depute, v. [dipiút] Diputar, delegar. Kumatawan. Deputy, n. [dépiuti] Diputado, delegado. Kinatawan. Derange, v. [diréndch] Desarreglar, desordenar. Guluhín, siráin ang ayos. Derangement, n. [diréndchment] Desarreglo, desorden. Pagkaguló, pagkasirà ng ayos. Derelict, adj. [dérilict] Desamparado, abandonado. Pinabayaan, walang sukat lumingap. Dereliction, n. [derilíccien] Desamparo, abandono. Pagkapabayâ, pagpapabayâ, pagkaiwan. Deride, v. [diráid] Burlar, mofar. Manuyâ, tumuyâ, manglibák. Derision, n. [dirícion] Irrision, mofa; escarnio, burla. Tuyâ, libak, uyam. Derisive, adj. [diráisiv] Irrisorio. Katawátawá. Derivation, n. [derivécien] Derivacion. Pagkahangò sa ibá. Derive, v. [diráiv] Derivar. Hangûin sa ibá. Derivative, adj. [dirívativ] Derivativo. Salitâ na hangò sa pinagsimulan. Derogate, adj. [déroguet] Derogado. Pawî, pinawaláng kabuluhan. Derogate, v. [déroguet] Derogar. Pawíin, pawalan ng kabuluhan. Derogation, n. [deroguécien] Derogacion. Pagpawì, pagpapawaláng kabuluhan. Derrick, n. [dérik] Máquina para levantar pesos. Mákina na ginagamit sa pagtataas ng anomang mabigat. Dervish, n. [dérvish] Derviche. Monheng maometano ó monheng moro. Descend, v. [disénd] Descender, bajar. Lumusong, bumabâ. Descendant, n. [diséndant] Descendiente. Angkan, lahì, hinlog, inapó. Descendent, adj. [diséndent] Lo que se cae ó viene abajo. Pababâ, pasubâ, palusóng. Descension, n. [diséncion] Descension; degradacion. Pagbabâ, pagkababâ; paglusong, pagkalusong. Descent, n. [disént] Descenso, bajada; pendiente, declive; descendencia, posteridad. Pagbabâ, lusungín, paglusóng; pababâ, palusóng; lahì, angkán; inapó. Describe, v. [discráib] Describir. Isalaysay, ilarawan. Description, n. [discrípcion] Descripcion. Pananalaysay, paglalarawan. Descriptive, adj. [discríptiv] Descriptivo. May taglay na pananalaysay. Descry, v. [discrái] Observar, avistar. Tumanaw; tanawin. Desecrate, v. [désicret] Profanar. Lumapastangan. Desecration, n. [desicrécion] Profanacion. Paglapastangan. Desert, n. [dézært] Desierto, soledad. Iláng, malaking parang na palanas. Desert, v. [dézert] Desertar. Magtaanán [ang kawal]. Deserter, n. [dizértor] Desertor, trásfuga. Kawal na taanan. Desertion, n. [dizércien] Desercion. Pagtataanan ng kawal. Deserve, v. [dizérv] Merecer, ser digno. Marapatin, papagingdapatin. Deservedly, adv. [dizérvedli] Merecidamente. May karapatán, nararapat. Deserving, adj. [dizérving] Meritorio. Karapatdapat. Deserving, n. [dizérving] Mérito. Karapatan. Deshabille, n. [dízabl] Desareglo en el vestir. Kawalán ng ayos sa pagbibihis. Desiccate, v. [disíket] Desecar. Tumayô. Desiccation, n. [disikécion] Desecacion. Pagtuyô. Desiderate, v. [disidæret] Desear, querer. Magnasà, magnais, mag-ibig, pumita. Desideratum, n. [disídæratum] Objeto que se desea. Bagay na ninanasà ó ninanais ó pinipita. Design, n. [disáin] Designio; intento, intencion; proyecto; diseño. Bantâ, akalà; panukalá; plano. Design, v. [disáin] Designar, determinar; proyectar; diseñar. Umakalà; magpanukalà; gumuhit ng anyô. Designate, v. [désignet] Apuntar, señalar. Iturò, daliriin. Designation, n. [designécion] Designacion, señalamiento. Pagtuturò, pagdalirì. Designedly, adv. [dizáinedli] Adrede, de proposito, de intento. Sinadyâ, kinusà. Designing, adj. [dizáining] Insidioso, astuto. Switik, tuso. Desirable, adj. [dizáirabl] Deseable. Mananais, mapipita, mananasà. Desire, n. [dizáir] Deseo, anhelo, ansia. Nais, nasà, pita, hangad. Desire, v. [dizáir] Desear, apetecer. Magnais, magnasà, pumita, maghangad. Desirous, adj. [dizáiroes] Deseoso, ansioso. Mapagnais, mapagnasà, may nais, may nasà. Desist, v. [dizíst] Desistir. Magtigil, humintô; umurong. Desk, n. [desk] Escritorio. Sulatán, pupitre. Desolate, adj. [dézolet] Desolado, solitario. Iláng, malungkot, mapanglaw. Desolate, v. [dézolet] Desolar, despoblar, arruinar. Ilangín, lipulin ang mga táhanan, wasakín. Desolation, n. [dezolécien] Desolacion, ruina, destruccion. Pagkailang, kawasakan, kasiraan. Despair, n. [dispér] Desconfianza, desesperacion. Kawalán ng pag-asa; panghihinà ng loob. Despair, v. [dispér] Desesperar. Mawalán ng pag-asa; manghinà ang loob. Despatch, n. [dispátch] Despacho. Paglutas ng anoman. Despatch, v. [dispátch] Despachar. Lumutas; lutasín. Desperado, n. [desperédo] Hombre atrevido. Taong pangahas, taong malikot ang kamay. Desperate, adj. [désperet] Desesperado. Walang pag-asa. Desperation, n. [desperécion] Desesperacion. Kawalán ng pag-asa. Despicable, adj. [déspicabl] Despreciable. Hamak. Despise, v. [dispáiz] Despreciar, desdeñar. Humamak; hamakin, ipalagay na walang kabuluhan. Despite, n. [dispáit] Despecho. Poot, pagtatanim ng loob. Despiteful, adj. [dispáitful] Despechoso. Mapóotin, mapagtaním sa loob. Despoil, v. [dispóil] Despojar, privar. Alisan ng pag-aarì bawáan. Despond, v. [dispónd] Desconfiar, abatirse. Magkulang ng pag-asa, manglupaypay. Despondency, n. [dispóndensi] Desconfianza, desaliento. Pagkukulang ng pag-asa, panglulupaypay. Despondent, adj. [dispóndent] Desconfiado, desalentado. Kulang ng tiwalà, lupaypay. Despot, n. [déspot] Déspota. Punò na dî tumutungtong sa katwiran, mapag-apúapuan, mapagharíharian. Despotic, adj. [despótic] Despótico. Dî matutulan, dî nanununton ng katwiran. Despotism, n. [déspotizm] Despotismo. Pamumunong hindî nanununton ng katwiran. Dessert, n. [dezért] Postres. Himagas, panghimagas. Destination, n. [destinécien] Destinacion, destino. Kaukulan, pag-uukol, destino. Destine, v. [déstin] Destinar. Iukol, idestino. Destiny, n. [déstini] Destino, hado, suerte. Kaukulan, kapalaran, palad. Destitute, adj. [déstitiut] Destituido, abandonado. Walang mag-ampon, pinabayaan, hampas-lupà salat, dukhâ. Destitution, n. [destitiúcion] Destitucion, privacion, abandono. Kasalatan, karukhaan. Destroy, v. [distrói] Destruir, arruinar. Magwasak, wasakin, gumibâ, gibâin, sumirà, sirain. Destruction, n. [distráccion] Destruccion, ruina. Pagkawasak, kagibaan, kasiraan. Destructive, adj. [distráctiv] Destructivo, ruinoso. Nakawawasak, nakagigibâ, nakasisirà. Detach, v. [ditátch] Separar, apartar; destacar. Ihiwalay, ibukod; maglagay ng pulutong ng kawal na handâ sa labanan. Detachment, n. [ditátchment] Destacamento. Pulutong ng kawal na taan sa labanan. Detail, n. [ditél] Detalle; al por menor. Salaysay; tingî. Detail, v. [ditél] Detallar, especificar. Salaysayin, ipaliwanag. Detain, v. [ditén] Detener, suspender. Impitin, pigilin. Detect, v. [ditéct] Descubrir, revelar. Tuklasin; ihayag, ipahayag. Detection, n. [ditéccion] Descubrimiento; revelacion. Pagkatuklas; pagkahayag. Detective, n. [ditéctiv] Policia secreta. Sekreta, tiktík, pulis na lihim. Detention, n. [diténcion] Detencion. Pagpigil, pagpiit, pag-antala. Deter, v. [dítær] Desanimar, desalentar; disuadir, impedir. Magpahinà ng loob, pumigil, pigilin. Deteriorate, v. [ditírioret] Deteriorar. Pasamâin, sirain. Deterioration, n. [ditiriorécien] Deterioracion. Pagsamâ, pagkasirà. Determinate, adj. [ditérminet] Determinado, limitado. May taning, may hanggá. Determination, n. [diterminécion] Determinacion, resolucion, decision. Pasiya, kalutasan. Determine, v. [ditérmin] Determinar, decidir. Magpasiya, lumutas. Detest, v. [ditést] Detestar, aborrecer. Itakwil, ayawán, kayamutan. Detestable, adj. [ditéstabl] Detestable, aborrecible. Kasuklam-suklam, karimarimarim, nakayayamot. Detestation, n. [ditestécion] Destestacion, aborrecimiento. Suklam, rimarim. Dethrone, v. [dizrón] Destronar. Alisin [ang harì] sa luklukan. Dethronement, n. [dizrónment] Destronamiento. Pag-aalis [sa harì] sa luklukan. Detour, n. [ditúr] Rodeo, revuelta. Lakad na pasikotsikot ó pasuotsuot. Detract, v. [ditráct] Detractar, desminuir; infamar, murmurar. Magbawas; manirang puri, manungayaw. Detraction, n. [ditraccien] Detraccion. Pagbabawas. Detriment, n. [détriment] Detrimento, daño, perjuicio. Kasiraan, abala, pinsalâ. Detrimental, adj. [detriméntal] Perjudicial, dañoso. Nakásisirà, nakasasamâ. Devastate, v. [divastét] Devastar, arruinar, asolar. Iwasak, iguhô, sirain, lipulin, loobán, lusubin. Devastation, n. [divastécion] Devastacion, desolacion, saqueo. Kawasakan, kasiraan, pagkawasak, pagkáguhô, paglusob. Develop, v. [divélop] Desenvolver, desarrollar. Bumuti, uminam, tumuloy ng pagsulong. Development, n. [divélopment] Desarrollo. Pakasulong, pagsulong, pag-inam. Devest, v. [divést] Desnudar, despojar. Hubdín, hubarin; hubdán, hubuan. Deviate, v. [diviét] Desviarse. Máligaw, málisya. Deviation, n. [diviécion] Desvío. Pagkaligaw, pagkalisyâ. Device, n. [diváis] Proyecto; invencion. Hakà; kathâ. Devil, n. [dévil] Diablo, demonio. Dyablo, demonyo, yawà. Devilish, adj. [dévilish] Diabólico. Nauukol sa dyablo, parang dyablo. Devilry, n. [dévilri] Diablura, maleficio. Gawang dyablo, kasamaan. Devious, adj. [dívies] Desviado. Ligáw, lisyâ. Devise, n. [diváiz] Legado; donacion. Pamana; kaloob. Devise, v. [diváiz] Trazar, inventar, legar. Humakà, kumathâ; mag-anyô; mag-pamana. Deviser, n. [diváizer] Inventor. Imbentor, mángangathâ. Division, n. [divícion] Division. Pagbabahagi, paghahatì. Devoid, adj. [divóid] Vacío, desocupado. Walang laman, salát. Devolve, v. [divólv] Rodar abajo; trasmitir, transmitir. Gumulong sa ibabá; malipat sa iba, mápasaulì. Devolution, n. [devoliúcien] Devolucion. Pagsasaulì, pagkasaulì. Devote, v. [divót] Dedicar, consagrar. Tumalagá, tumaan. Devoted, adj. [divóted] Dedicado, consagrado, destinado. Talagá, laan, taan. Devotee, n. [devotí] Santón, mojigato. Manong ó manang. Devotion, n. [divócien] Devocion, oracion. Panata; dasal. Devotional, adj. [divócional] Devoto, religioso. Nauukol sa panata ó dasal. Devour, v. [diváur] Devorar, tragar; destruir, consumir. Sakmalin, lamunin; sirain, iwasak. Devout, adj. [diváut] Devoto, piadoso. Banal, may taos na pananalig; manong ó manang. Dew, n. [diú] Rocío. Hamóg. Dew, v. [diu] Rociar. Máhamugan; magkahamog. Dew-drop, n. [diúdrap] Gota de rocío. Paták ng hamog. Dewlap, n. [diúlap] Papada del buey. Lambî. Dewy, adj. [diúi] Rociado. Mahamog. Dexter, adj. [décster] Diestro ó derecho. Nauukol sa kanan. Dexterity, n. [décsteriti] Destreza, agilidad. Kasanayán, kaliksihan, katalinuan. Dexterous, adj. [décstæroes] Diestro, habil. Sanáy, matalinò; maliksi. Diabetes, n. [daiabítiz] Diabetes. Balisawsaw. Diabolic, adj. [daiabólic] Diabólico. Nauukol sa dyablo. Diabolical, adj. [daiabólical] Diabólico. Nauukol sa dyablo. Diadem, n. [daídem] Diadema. Dyadema, putong. Diagram, n. [daígram] Diagrama. Anyô, tabas, guhit, plano. Dial, n. [dáial] Reloj de sol. Mukhâ ng orasan. Dialect, n. [daílect] Dialecto. Pangkat ng wikà, wikà. Dialogue, n. [daílog] Diálogo. Sálitaan ng dalawa. Diameter, n. [daíameter] Diámetro. Kalagitnaan. Diametric, adj. [daímetric] Diametral. Nauukol sa kalagitnaan. Diametrical, adj. [daímetrical] Diametral. Nauukol sa kalagitnaan. Diamond, n. [dáimond] Diamante, brillante. Dyamante, brilyante. Diaphragm, n. [dáiafram] Diafragma. Ang makapal na litid na nasa pagitan ng dibdib at tyan. Diarrhea, n. [daiarría] Diarrea. Kursó, bululós. Diary, n. [dáiri] Diario. Tálaan sa araw-araw. Diatribe, n. [dáiatraib] Diatriba. Pakikipagtalo, pagpaparaan ng panahon; takap, pagmumurá. Dibble, n. [díbl] Plantador, almocafre. Isang kasangkapang panghukay. Dickens, n. [díkens] Diablo [vulgar]. Dyablo [karaniwang sambiting]. Dictate, n. [dictét] Dictamen, máxima, precepto; leccion, doctrina. Tuntunin, alituntunin, panuntunan; aral. Dictate, v. [dictét] Dictar. Magdiktá ó sambitin ang isusulat. Dictation, n. [dictécion] Dictado. Pagdidiktá ó pananambit ng isusulat. Dictator, n. [dictétor] Dictador. Ang nagdidiktá ó sumasambit ng dapat sulatin; makapangyarihan. Dictatorial, adj. [dictetórial] Autoritativo, magistral. Ang hinggil sa punong makapangyarihan. Diction, n. [díccioen] Diccion, estilo. Pananalitâ, pangungusap. Dictionary, n. [díccioeneri] Diccionario. Diksyonaryo, pákahuluganan ng mga salitâ. Didactic, adj. [daidáctic] Didáctico. Ukol sa pagtuturò, may taglay na aral. Didactical, adj. [daidáctical] Didáctico. Ukol sa pagtuturò, may taglay na aral. Diddle, v. [dídl] Vacilar, anadear. Mag-alinlangan, mag-alangán, magsalawahan; kumapâ, mag-apuháp. Die, v. [dai] Morir. Mamatay. Diet, n. [dáiet] Comida, manjar; dieta, racion. Pagkain, rasyón, sahod. Diet, v. [dáiet] Alimentarse, comer. Kumain. Differ, v. [difér] Diferenciarse, distinguirse. Mágkaiba. Difference, n [dífoerens] Diferencia, distincion. Kaibhán, kaibahan, pagkakaiba. Different, adj. [dífoerent] Diferente, diverso. Kaibá, ibá. Difficult, adj. [dífikoelt] Dificil. Mahirap, maliwag. Difficulty, n. [dífikoelti] Dificultad, obstáculo. Hirap, kahirapan. Diffidence, n. [dífidens] Difidencia. Kakulangan ng paniniwalà. Diffident, adj. [dífident] Desconfiado. Kulang ng tiwalà. Diffuse, adj. [difiús] Difundido, extendido, esparcido. Malwag, kalág, kalát, sabóg, lupanà. Diffuse, v. [difiús] Difundir, esparcir. Ikalat, isabog; lumupanà. Diffusion, n. [difiúsien] Difusion, prolijidad, esparcimiento. Paglaganap, pagkalat, pagsabog, paglupanà. Dig, v. [dig] Cavar. Humukay. Digest, n. [dáidchest] Digesto, recopilacion de las decisiones de la jurisprudencia romana. Kódigo, katipunan ng mga utos. Digest, v. [dáidchest] Digerir. Tumunaw ng kinain; tunawin ang kinain. Digestible, adj. [didchéstibl] Digerible. Tunawín, natutunaw. Digestion, n. [didchéschen] Digestion. Pagtunaw ng kinain; pagkatunaw ng kinain. Digger, n. [díguoer] Cavador. Manghuhukay. Digit, n. [dídchet] Digito. Dalì, isang dalì; dalirì. Dignified, adj. [dígnifaid] Dignificado. Karapatdapad. Dignify, v. [dígnifai] Dignificar. Papaging-dapatin; magíng dapat. Dignitary, n. [dígniteri] Dignitario. Kaginoohán. Dignity, n. [dígniti] Dignidad. Karapatán, karangalan, kamahalan. Digress, v. [digrés] Hacer digresión, extraviarse. Magpasikotsikot; lumayô, lumihís humiwalay. Digression, n. [digrécion] Digresión; desvio, separacion. Pagpapasikotsikot; paglihis, paglayô, paghiwalay. Dike, n. [dáik] Dique, malecon. Pilapil, hádlangan ng tubig. Dilapidate, v. [dilápidet] Dilapidar, destruir. Sumirà; sirain. Dilapidation, n. [dilapidécien] Dilapidacion, destruccion. Pagsirà, pagkasirà. Dilate, v. [dilét] Dilatar (se), extender (se). Lumapad; laparan; lumwang; lwangan; humabà, habaan. Dilation, n. [dilécion] Dilacion. Paglapad, paglwang, paghabà. Dilatory, adj. [dilétori] Tardo, lento, dilatario. Makupad, makuyad, mabagal. Diligence, n. [dílidchens] Diligencia, aplicacion. Sipag, kasipagan. Diligent, adj. [dílidchent] Diligente, aplicado. Masipag. Dilucid, adj. [diliúsid] Claro, trasparente. Malinaw, nanganganinag. Dilucidate, v. [diliúsidet] Dilucidar, ilustrar, aclarar. Linawan, liwanagan, liwanagin. Dilute, adj. [diliút] Atenuado. Malagnaw, may bantô. Dilute, v. [diliút] Diluir. Lagnawan, bantuan. Dilution, n. [diliúcioen] Diluicion. Pagpapalagnaw. Diluvian, adj. [diliúvian] Diluviano. Ukol sa kagunaw. Dim, adj. [dim] Turbio de vista; obscuro. Malabò ang mata, súlipin; malabò. Dim, v. [dim] Obscurecer, eclipsar. Lumabò, kumulimlim. Dime, n. [dáim] Una peseta. Isang pisetas. Dimension, n. [diméncion] Dimencion, extension. Sukat; lakí, habà at lapad. Diminish, v. [dimínish] Disminuir, minorar; disminuirse. Bumawas, bawasan, magbawas. Diminution, n. [diminuícien] Diminucion. Pagkabawas, pagbabawas. Diminutive, adj. [dimíniutiv] Diminutivo. Maliit, may bawas. Dimity, n. [dímiti] Fustan, cotonía. Káyong sita. Dimple, n. [dímpl] Hoyuelo de la mejilla. Butas ng pisngí. Din, n. [din] Ruido violento, sonido; alboroto. Hugong, tunog; kagulo, ingay. Dine, v. [dáin] Comer. Kumain. Dingle, n. [díngl] Pequeño campo entre dos colinas. Munting parang sa pagitan ng dalawang buról. Dingy, adj. [díndchi] Color obscuro. Kulay na malabò. Dinner, n. [dínær] Comida. Pagkain, tanghalian. Dint, n. [dint] Golpe, choque. Bugbog, banggâ, bunggô. Diocese, n. [dáioses] Diócesis. Dyosesis, kapangyarihan ng obispo. Dip, n. [dip] Inmersion. Sukbó, sisid, lubog; tubog, sawsaw. Dip, v. [dip] Remojar; sumergir. Isawsaw, itubog; sumukbó, sumisid. Diploma, n. [diplóma] Diploma. Diploma, título. Diplomacy, n. [diplómasi] Diplomacia. Ang katalinuan sa pakikipagkáyarî sa ibang bansa ó nasyon. Dipper, n. [dípær] Vasija para sacar líquidos. Pangadlô ng tubig ó ng anomang malagnaw. Dire, adj. [dáir] Horrendo, espantoso. Kakilakilabot kasindaksindak. Direct, adj. [diréct] Directo, derecho. Matwid. Direct, v. [diréct] Dirigir; enderezar. Mamatnugot, pumatnubay, mamahalà; magtwid; itwid; twirin. Director, n. [diréctor] Director. Tagapamatnugot, tagapamatnubay, tagapamahalà. Directory, n. [diréctori] Directorio. Patnubay; pámunuan. Directress, n. [diréctres] Directora. Babaing tagapamatnugot. Direful, adj. [dáirful] Horrible, espantoso. Kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak. Dirge, n. [derdch] Endecha, cancion lúgubre. Panambitan, dalit sa paglilibing. Dirk, n. [dærk] Especie de daga ó puñal. Panaksak; patalim na tila talibong. Dirt, n. [dert] Suciedad; porquería. Dumí; kababuyan. Dirt, v. [dert] Ensuciar; emporcar. Magdumé, magpakababoy. Dirty, adj. [dérti] Sucio, puerco. Marumí, baboy. Disability, n. [disabíliti] Incapacidad, impotencia. Kawalán ng kaya, kawalan ng kapangyarihan. Disable, v. [disébl] Inhabilitar, incapacitar. Alisán ng kaya, alisan ng kapangyarihan. Disadvantage, n. [disadvántedch] Desventaja. Kasahulán, pagkasahol. Disadvantage, v. [disadvántedch] Menoscabar, perjudicar. Makasahól makalamáng. Disadvantageous, adj. [disadvántedches] Desventajoso. Nasahulán, nalamangán. Disagree, v. [disagrí] Desconvenir, discordar. Magkásirâ, dîmagkasundô. Disagreeable, adj. [disagríebl] Desagradable. Karimarimarim, kasuklamsuklam. Disagreement, n. [disagríment] Diferencia, discordia. Kásiraan, káalitan, pagkakásirâ, pagkakaalít. Disallow, v. [disaláu] Negar, no dar permiso. Tumanggí, hwag magpahintulot. Disannul, v. [disanúl] Anular. Pawalan ng kabuluhan, pawalán ng halagá. Disappear, v. [disapír] Desaparecer, ausentarse. Mawalâ. Disappearance, n. [disapírans] Desaparecimiento. Pagkawalâ. Disappoint, v. [disapóint] Frustrar, engañar, faltar á la palabra. Sumayang, magdayà, hwag gumanap ng sinalitâ. Disappointment, n. [disopoíntment] Chasco, contratiempo, disgusto. Kahihiyan, damdamin, sentimiento, samâ ng loob. Disapproval, n. [disaprúval] Desaprovacion, censura. Pagkatanggí, pagkaayaw, pintas. Disapproved, adj. [disaprúvd] Desaprovado. Tinanggihan, inayawan. Disarm, v. [disárm] Desarmar. Alisan ng almás ó panglaban. Disarmament, n. [disármament] Desarmamiento. Pag-aalis ng almás ó panglaban. Disarrange, v. [disaréndch] Desarreglar. Gumulo, sumirà ng ayos. Disarranged, adj. [disarréndched] Desarreglado. Maguló, walang ayos. Disarrangement, n. [disarréndchment] Desorden, confusion. Kawalan ng ayos, kaguluhan. Disaster, n. [disáster] Desastre; infortunio. Kasakunaan, kapahamakan; kasawîan. Disastrous, adj. [disástres] Desastroso, calamitoso. Kapahapahamak, nakasasawî. Disavow, v. [disaváu] Denegar, desconocer. Kumailâ. Disband, v. [disbánd] Descartar, desbandarse. Tumiwalag, humiwalay. Disbelief, n. [disbilíf] Incredulidad. Kawalan ng paniwalà, kawalán ng pananampalataya. Disbelieve, v. [disbilív] Descreer, desconfiar. Mawalan ng paniwalà, mag-urong-sulóng, magalangan. Disburse, v. [disbárs] Desembolsar, pagar. Magdukot, magbayad, gumugol. Disbursement, n. [disbársment] Desembolso. Pagdudukot, pag-gugol, pag-babayad. Disc, n. [disc] Disco. Bilog [na lapád]. Discard, v. [discárd] Descartar, licenciar. Itiwalag, ialis. Discern, v. [dizérn] Dicernir, percibir, distinguir. Mátanaw, máwatasan, mámalas. Discernible, adj. [dizérnibl] Perceptible, visible. Nátatanaw, nakikita. Discerning, n. [dizérning] Juicioso, perspicaz, sagaz. Mabait, matalinò, tuso. Discharge, n. [dischárdch] Descarga, descargo. Paglulunsad ng lulan, pagbababâ ng pasán, pagkabunot sa utang. Discharge, v. [dischárdch] Descargar ó aliviar la carga; pagar una deuda. Maglunsad ng lulan, magbabâ ng pasan; magbayad ng utang. Disciple, n. [disáipl] Discípulo. Alagad. Disciplinarian, adj. [disiplinérian] Lo que pertenece á la disciplina. Ang nauukol sa pagganap ng tuntunin. Disciplinarian, n. [disiplinérian] El que gobierna y enseña con rigor y exactitud. Ang namùmunò at nagtuturò na may kahigpitan. Discipline, n. [dísiplin] Disciplina. Pagganap ng tuntunin. Discipline, v [dísiplin] Disciplinar, instruir. Magpaganap ng tungkulin, magturò. Disclaim, v. [disclém] Negar, renunciar. Kumailâ, tumalikwas. Disclaimer, n. [disclémær] Negador. Ang nagkakailâ, ang tumatalikwas. Disclose, v. [disclóz] Descubrir, revelar. Ihayag, ilitaw. Disclosure, n. [disclósiur] Descubrimiento, declaracion. Paglilitaw, pahayag. Discolor, v. [diskólor] Descolorar. Kumupas ang kulay. Discoloration, n. [diskolorécion] Descoloramiento. Pagkupas ng kulay. Discolored, adj. [diskólord] Descolorido. Kupas ang kulay; maputlâ, putlâin. Discomfit, v. [diskómfit] Derrotar, vencer. Manalo, manaig. Discomfiture, n. [diskomfíchur] Derrota, vencimiento, turbacion. Pagkadaig, pagkatalo; pagkaligalig. Discomfort, n. [diskómfort] Desconsuelo, afliccion. Pagkalugamì, dalamhatì. Discomfort, v. [diskómfort] Desconsolar, afligir, entristecer. Magpalugamì, dumalamhatì, magpalungkot. Discommode, v. [discomód] Incomodar; molestar. Manggalit; mang-abala. Discompose, v. [discompóz] Descomponer, desordenar, turbar. Sumirà, gumuló, lumigalig. Discomposure, n. [discompósiur] Descomposicion, desareglo. Pagkasirà, pagkaguló. Disconcert, v. [disconcert] Desconcertar, confundir. Gumuló, lumigalig, gumambalà. Disconnect, v. [disconéct] Desunir. Tanggalin, ihiwalay. Disconnection, n. [disconéccicn] Desunion. Pagkatanggal, pagkahiwalay. Disconsolate, adj. [discónsolet] Desconsolado. Dî maaliw. Discontent, adj. [discontént] Descontento. Yamot, iníp. Discontent, v. [discontént] Descontentar, desagradar. Yumamot, makainíp. Discontented, adj. [disconténted] Descontentadizo. Iníp. Discontinuance, n. [discontíniuans] Cesacion. Paglilikat, pagtigil. Discontinuation, n. [discontiniuécion] Descontinuacion, cesacion, interrupcion. Pagkauntol; paglilikat; pagkaabala. Discontinue, v. [discontíniu] Descontinuar, interrumpir, cesar. Mápauntol; itigil; maglikat. Discord, n. [díscord] Discordia, disencion. Kasiraan, káalitan. Discordance, n. [discórdans] Discordancia, discordia, disencion. Pagkakasirà, kásiraan, káalitan. Discordancy, n. [discórdansi] Discordancia, discordia, disencion. Pagkakasirà, kásiraan, káalitan. Discordant, adj. [discórdant] Discorde, incongruo. Walang-ayos, magulo, dî tugmâ. Discount, n. [díscaunt] Descuento, rebaja. Bawas, kulang. Discount, v. [díscaunt] Descontar, rebajar. Bawasan, kulangan. Discountenance, v. [discáuntenans] Avergonzar, aturdir; poner mala cara. Hiyain; pasamain ang mukhâ. Discourage, v. [diskéredch] Desalentar, intimidar. Magpahinà ng loob. Discouragement, n. [diskéredchment] Desaliento, cobardía. Kahinaan ng loob, panglulupaypay, takot. Discourse, n. [discórs] Discurso, plática, disertacion. Talumpatì, panayam. Discourse, v. [discórs] Conversar, discurrir. Manalitâ, makipanayam, magbadya. Discourteous, adj. [discórties] Descortés, grosero. Lapastangan, walang galang. Discourtesy, n. [discórtisi] Descortesía, grosería. Kalapastanganan, kawalán ng galang. Discover, v. [discóver] Descubrir; revelar. Tumuklas; maghayag. Discovery, n. [discóveri] Descubrimiento; revelacion. Pagkatuklas; pagkahayag. Discredit, n. [discrédit] Descrédito, deshonra. Kasiraang puri. Discredit, v. [discrédit] Desacreditar, deshonrar, difamar. Manirang puri. Discreditable, adj. [discréditabl] Ignominioso. Hamak, bastós. Discreet, adj. [discrít] Discreto, circunspecto. Mabait, mahinahon, matalinò. Discrepancy, n. [discrépansi] Discrepancia, diferencia. Pagkakaiba, kaibhan. Discrepant, adj. [discrépant] Discrepante. Kaibá, iba. Discrete, adj. [discrít] Desunido. Hiwalay, bukod. Discretion, n. [discrécion] Discrecion. Kabaitan, hinahon, katalinuan. Discriminate, v. [discríminet] Distinguir. Itangì; magtangì. Discrimination, n. [discriminécien] Distincion. Pagkakatangì; pagtangì. Discuss, v. [diskás] Discutir. Makipagtalo. Discussion, n. [diskácien] Discusión. Pagtatalo. Disdain, v. [dizdén] Desdeñar, despreciar. Tuyáin, hamakin. Disdainful, adj. [dizdénful] Desdeñoso. Mapagtuyâ, mapaghamak. Disease, n. [dizíz] Mal, enfermedad. Samà ng katawan, sakít. Diseased, adj. [dizízd] Enfermo. May-sakít. Disembark, v. [dizembárc] Desembarcar. Maglunsad; ilunsad. Disembarkation, n. [disembarkécien] Desembarco. Paglulunsad. Disembarrass, v. [disembárras] Desembarazar. Alisin sa kahihiyan. Disembody, v. [disembódi] Licenciar temporalmente algun cuerpo de ejército. Pagpahingalayin ang gayong pulutong ng hukbó. Disencumber, v. [dizenkámber] Desembarazar. Hanguin sa kahihiyan. Disengage, v. [disenguédch] Desenredar. Ayusin, isaayos. Disentangle, v. [disenténgl] Desenredar. Ayusin, isaayos. Disfavor, n. [disfévor] Disfavor. Pagpapawalang halagá. Disfavor, v. [disfévor] Desfavor. Magpawalang halagá, hwag kalingâin. Disfigure, v. [disfíguiur] Desfigurar, afear. Papangitin, pasamâin ang anyô. Disfigurement, n. [disfíguiurment] Desfiguracion. Pagpangit, pagsamâ ng anyô. Disfranchise, v. [disfránchis] Quitar franquicias. Alisin ang pahintulot. Disgorge, v. [disgórdch] Vomitar. Sumuka. Disgrace, n. [dizgrés] Ignominia, infamia, deshonra. Kahihiyan, kasiraang puri. Disgrace, v. [dizgrés] Deshonrar, hacer caer en desgracia. Manirang puri, magpanganyayà magpahamak. Disgraceful, adj. [dizgrésful] Deshonroso, ignominioso. Nakasisirang puri, nakahihiyâ. Disguise, n. [dizgáiz] Dizfraz. Pagbabalat-kayô, disfrás, máskara. Disguise, v. [dizgáiz] Dizfrazar, enmascarar. Magbalat kayô, magdisfrás. Disgust, n. [dizgást] Disgusto. Samâ ng loob. Disgust, v. [dizgást] Disgustar. Magpasamâ ng loob. Disgusted, adj. [dizgásted] Disgustado. Masamâ ang loob. Dish, n. [dish] Plato. Pinggan, ulam. Dish, v. [dish] Servir la vianda en fuente; servir la comida. Ihain ang ulam na ilagay sa pinggan; maghain. Dishearten, v. [disjárten] Desanimar, desalentar, descorazonar. Magpahinà ng loob, tumakot. Dishevel, v. [disjével] Desgreñar. Gumusot. Dishonest, adj. [dizónest] Deshonesto. Mahalay, walang bait. Dishonesty, n. [dizónesti] Deshonestidad. Kahalayan, kawalan ng bait. Dishonor, n. [dizónor] Deshonra, ignominia. Kasiraang puri, pulà. Dishonor, v. [dizónor] Deshonrar, infamar. Manirang puri, mamulà. Dishonorable, adj. [dizonórabl] Deshonroso, indecoroso. Nakasisirang puri, nakahihiyâ. Disincline, v. [disincláin] Desinclinar. Hwag umayon, hwag pumayag. Disinclination, n. [disinclinécion] Desafecto, aversion. Kawalán ng pagayon ó pagpayag. Disinfect, v. [disinféct] Desinficionar. Desinpektar. Disinherit, v. [disinjérit] Desheredar. Hwag papagmanahin, di papagmanahin. Disinter, v. [desintér] Desenterar. Hukayin (ang ibinaón). Disinterested, adj. [disínterested] Desinteresado. Walang interés, walang nasang masamâ; walang sikap. Disjoin, v. [dizdchóin] Desunir, apartar. Tanggalin, ihiwalay. Disjoint, v. [dizdchóint] Dislocar, desmembrar. Ilinsad, tanggalin. Disk, n. [disk] Disco. Bilog. Dislike, n. [disláik] Aversion, disgusto. Yamot, galit, samâ ng loob. Dislike, v. [disláik] Disgustar, desaprobar. Mayamot, magalit, sumamâ ang loob. Dislocate, v. [dísloket] Dislocar. Ilinsad, tanggalin. Dislocation, n. [dislokécioen] Dislocacion. Pagkalinsad. Dislodge, v. [dislódch] Desalojar. Paalisin, palayasin. Disloyal, adj. [dizlóyal] Desleal, infiel. Hindî tapat, sukáb, pusóng, taksil. Disloyalty, n. [dizlóyalti] Deslealtad, infidelidad. Kawalán ng pagtatapat, kasukabán, kapusungán, kataksilan. Dismal, adj. [dízmal] Triste, funesto, deplorable, terrible. Mapanglaw, malungkot; kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak. Dismantle, v. [dizmántl] Desaparejar una embarcacion. Alisan ng damit ó kasangkapan ang isang sasakyan sa tubig. Dismay, n. [dizmé] Desmayo. Pagkawalá sa sariling isip; hilo. Dismay, v. [dizmé] Desmayarse. Mawalâ sa sariling isip; mawalan ng diwà, mahilo; magulomihanan. Dismember, v. [dismémber] Desmembrar, despedazar. Tanggalin, papaghiwalayin. Dismemberment, n. [dismémberment] Desmembramiento. Pagtanggal. Dismiss, v. [dismís] Despedir, echar, descartar. Paalisín, palayasin, itiwalag. Dismissal, n. [dismísal] Despedida; dimision. Pagpapaalam sa ginagawaan, pag-alís sa pinagtatrabahuhan. Dismount, v. [dismáunt] Desmontar, apearse del caballo. Umibis. Disobedience, n. [disobídiens] Desobediencia. Paglabag, pagsalangsang, pagsway. Disobedient, adj. [disobídient] Desobediente. Maswayin, mapagsalangsang, magpaglabag. Disobey, v. [disobé] Desobedecer. Lumabag, sumway, sumalangsang. Disoblige, v. [disobláidch] Desagradecer. Magpalamara, dî kumilala ng utang na loob. Disobliging, n. [disobláidching] Desagradecimiento. Pagkapalamara, dî pagkilala ng utang na loob. Disorder, n. [dizórder] Desorden, confusion. Guló, kaguluhan. Disorder, v. [dizórder] Desordenar, confundir. Gumuló; guluhin, lumitó. Disorderly, adj. [dizórdoerli] Desarreglado, confuso. Maguló. Disorderly, adv. [dizórdoerli] Desordenadamente. May kaguluhan. Disorganization, n. [dizorganizécioen] Desorganizacion. Pagkasirà ng ayos. Disorganize, v. [dizórganaiz] Desorganizar. Sumirà ng ayos. Disown, v. [dizón] Negar, desconocer, renunciar. Tanggihan, ikailâ. Disparage, v. [dispáredch] Envilecer, desdorar. Humamak, pumulà. Disparagement, n. [disparedchment] Desprecio, desdoro. Paghamak, pagpulà. Disparity, n. [dispáriti] Disparidad. Kaibhan, pagkaiba. Dispassion, n. [dispácioen] Serenidad de ánimo. Kalamigan ng loob, hinahon. Dispassionate, adj. [dispácioenet] Desapasionado, sereno, templado. Walang kiling sa kanino man; malamig ang loob, mahinahon. Dispatch, n. [dispátch] Despacho, telegrama. Hatid-kawad, telegrama. Dispel, v. [dispél] Esparcir, disipar. Papanabugin, isabog. Dispensable, adj. [dispénsabl] Dispensable. Maipauumanhin, mapalalagpas. Dispensary, n. [dispénseri] Dispensario. Botika, pámilihan ng gamot. Dispensation, n. [dispensécioen] Distribucion, dispensa. Pagkakaloob, pamamahagi, pamimigay. Dispense, v. [dispéns] Dispensar, distribuir. Magkaloob, magbigay. magbahagi. Disperse, v. [dispérs] Esparcir, desparramar. Isabog, ikalat. Dispersion, n. [dispércioen] Dispersion. Pagsabog, pagkalat; pagkasabog, pagkakalat. Dispirit, v. [dispírit] Desalentar, desanimar. Pahinain ang loob papanglupaypayin. Displace, v. [displés] Dislocar, desordenar. Ilinsad, alisin sa ayos. Displacement, n. [displésment] Dislocacion. Pagkalinsad, pagkaalis sa ayos. Display, v. [displé] Desplegar, ostentar, exponer. Ipamalas, ipahalatâ, ihayag. Display, n. [displé] Ostentacion, manifestacion. Pagpapamalas, pagpapahalatâ, paghahayag. Displease, v. [displíz] Desplacer, disgustar. Magpasamâ ng loob, makagalit, makayamot. Displeasure, n. [displésiur] Desplacer, disgusto, indignacion. Samâ ng loob, yamot, galit. Disposal, n. [dispózal] Disposición. Paraan, pamamahalà, pasiya. Dispose, v. [dispóz] Disponer, dar; arreglar. Magpasiya, magbigay; ayusin, isaayos. Disposed, adj. [dispózd] Dispuesto, inclinado. Nátatalaga, makiling, mahilig. Disposition, n. [dispozicioen] Disposición; orden. Paraan, pasiya; ayos. Dispossess, v. [dispozés] Desposeer. Kamkaman, alisán ng pag-aarì. Dispossession, n. [dispozécioen] Desposeimiento. Pagkamkam, pag-aalís ng pag-aarì. Dispraise, v. [dispréz] Vituperar. Humamak. Disproportion, n. [dispropórcioen] Desproporcion, desigualdad. Kábilanin, kabilán, hindî pantay. Disproportion, v. [dispropórcioen] Desproporcionar. Papagkabilanín, gawín ng dî pantay ó walá sa sukat. Disprove, v. [disprúv] Desaprobar. Pabulaanan. Disputable, adj. [dispiútabl] Disputable. Máipakikipagtalo. Disputant, n. [díspiutant] Disputador. Ang nakikipagtalo, ang nakikipagmátwiranan. Disputation, n. [dispiutécioen] Disputa, controversia. Pagtatalo, pagmamatwiranan. Dispute, v. [dispiút] Disputar, controvertir. Makipagtalo, makipagmatwiranan. Dispute, n. [dispiút] Disputa, controversia. Pagtatalo, pagmamatwiranan. Disqualification, n. [disquolifikécioen] Inhabilidad, incapacidad. Kawalan ng kaya, kawalán ng abot. Disqualify, v. [discuólifai] Inhabilitar. Ipalagay na walang kaya, ariing walang kaya. Disquiet, n. [discuáit] Inquietud, desasosiego. Kawalan ng katahimikan, pagbabalisa. Disquiet, v. [discuáit] Inquietar, desasosiegar. Ligaligin, pakabakabahin. Disquietude, n. [discuáietiud] Inquietud. Pagkabalisa, kabákabá. Disquisition, n. [discuízicioen] Disquisicion, averiguacion, examen. Pagsurì, pagsisiyasat, paglitis. Disregard, n. [disrigárd] Desatencion, desprecio, desden. Pag-alangán, pagpapawalang halagá, paghamak. Disregard, v. [disrigárd] Desatender, menospreciar. Hamakin, halayin. Disreputable, adj. [disrépiutabl] Deshonroso. Hamak, walang puri. Disrepute, n. [disrepiút] Descrédito, ignominia. Kasiraang puri, pulà. Disrespect, n. [disrispéct] Irreverencia. Kawalán ng galang, kalapastanganan. Disrespect, v. [disrispéct] Desacatar. Hwag gumalang. Disrespectful, adj. [disrispéctful] Irreverente, desatento. Walang galang, lapastangan. Disrobe, v. [disrób] Desnudar, despojar. Hubarán, hubuan. Disruption, n. [disrápcioen] Rompimiento; rotura. Sirà, kasiraan. Dissalt, v. [disált] Desalar. Patabangín. Dissatisfaction, n. [disatisfáccioen] Descontento, disgusto. Tabang ng loob, samâ ng loob. Dissatisfy, v. [disátisfai] Descontentar. Patabangin ang loob. Dissect, v. [diséct] Disecar. Lapain ó pagputolputulin upang malitis. Dissemble, v. [disémbl] Disimular, encubrir. Magkunwâ. Disseminate, v. [diséminet] Diseminar, sembrar, esparcir. Magsabog ng binhi, maghasik. Dissemination, n. [diseminécioen] Deseminacion. Pagsasabog ng binhî, paghahasik. Dissension, n. [disencioen] Disencion, contienda. Pagtatalo, káalitan. Dissent, n. [disént] Disension, oposicion. Káalitan. Dissent, v. [disént] Disentir, diferenciarse. Umayaw, mákaiba. Dissertation, n. [disoertacion] Disertacion. Pagtiwalag, paghiwalay. Dissimilar, adj. [disímilær] Desemejante, diferente. Kaibá, hindî kaparis. Dissimilarity, n. [disimiláriti] Desemejanza, diferencia. Kaibhan, pagkaiba. Dissimulate, v. [disimiulét] Disimular. Alintanahin, hwag pansinin. Dissimulation, n. [disimiulécioen] Disimulacion. Pag-alintana, dî pagpansin. Dissipate, v. [dísipet] Disipar. Pawiin. Dissipation, n. [disipécioen] Disipacion. Pagkapawì, pagpawì. Dissolute, adj. [dísoliut] Disoluto, libertino. Talipandas. Dissolution, n. [disoliúcioen] Disolucion. Pagkatunaw. Dissolve, v. [dizólv] Disolver. Tumunaw, tunawin. Dissonance, n. [dísonans] Disonancia, desconcierto. Kawalán ng pagkakatugmâ. Dissonant, adj. [dísonant] Disonante. Masamâ ang tunog. Dissuade, v. [disuéd] Disuadir. Mag-udyok, magbuyó. Dissuasion, n. [disuécion] Disuasión. Udyok, pagbubuyó. Distaff, n. [distáf] Rueca. Panulid. Distance, n. [dístans] Distancia. Layò, agwát, pagitan. Distance, v. [dístans] Alejar, apartar. Ilayô. Distant, adj. [dístant] Distante. Malayò. Distaste, n. [distést] Hastío; fastidio. Suyà; yamót, iníp. Distasteful, adj. [distéstful] Desabrido, desagradable. Walang lasa; nakayayamot, nakaiinip. Distemper, n. [distémper] Mal, indisposicion. Samâ ng katawan, bigat ng katawan. Distemper, v. [distémper] Perturbar; causar una enfermedad. Lumigalig; makasamâ ng katawan. Distend, v. [disténd] Extender, ensanchar. Palawigin, palwangin. Distension, n. [disténcion] Dilatacion, ensanche. Lawig, lwang. Distill, v. [distíl] Destilar. Alakin. Distillation, n. [distílecion] Destilacion. Pag-alak, paggawâ ng alak. Distillery, n. [distéleri] Distilería. Alakán, gáwaan ng alak. Distinct, adj. [distínct] Distinto, diferente. Kaiba, iba. Distinction, n. [distínccion] Distincion; diferencia. Pangingiba, pamumukod, katangian, pagkakatangì. Distinguish, v. [distíngüish] Distinguir; discernir. Mangibá, mamukod, mátangì; kilalanin. Distinguishable, adj. [distíngüishabl] Notable. Púnahin, hálatain, madalíng makilala, maliwanag. Distinguished, adj. [distingüíshd] Distinguido. Tangì, bantog, magiting, kilala. Distort, v. [distórt] Torcer; desviar. Pumilipit, bumaluktot; maglihís, maglisyâ. Distortion, n. [distórcion] Contorción, torcimiento. Pagpilipit, pagbaluktot. Distract, v. [distráct] Distraer. Lumibáng, luminlang. Distraction, n. [distráccion] Distraccion. Líbangan, áliwan. Distress, n. [distrés] Angustia, miseria. Hirap, sákit, dalamhatì. Distress, v. [distrés] Angustiar, afligír. Magpahirap, magpasakit, dumalamhatí. Distribute, v [distríbiut] Distribuir. Ipamahagi, ipamigay. Distribution, n. [distrbiúcion] Distribucion. Pamamahagi, pamimigay. Distributive, adj. [distríbiutiv] Distributivo. Nababahagi. District, n. [dístrict] Distrito, region, jurisdiccion. Pook, nayon. Distrust, n. [distrást] Desconfianza, sospecha. Sapantahà, hinalà. Distrust, v. [distrást] Desconfiar, sospechar. Magkulang ng tiwalà magsapantahà, maghinalà. Distrustful, adj. [distrástful] Desconfiado, sospechoso. Nagsasapantahà, naghihinalà; may sapantahà, may hinalà. Disturb, v. [distárb] Perturbar, estorbar. Gumambalà, umabala, mangguló, mangligalig. Disturbance, n. [distárbans] Disturbio. Gambalá, abala, pangguguló, pangliligalig. Disunion, n. [disiúnion] Desunion, discordia. Paghihiwalay, pagkakaalit. Disunite, v. [disiunáit] Desunirse, separarse. Maghiwalay, magkaalit. Disuse, n. [disyús] Desuso. Lipas, dî kagamitan. Disuse, v. [disyús] Desusar. Palipasin, hwag gamitin. Ditch, n. [ditch] Zanja. Sangka. Ditch, v. [ditch] Abrir zanjas. Gumawâ ng sangka. Ditto, n. [díto] Dicho ó dicha. Ang násabi na ó ang nábanggit na. Ditto, adj. [díto] Idem. Gayon din, idem. Ditty, n. [díti] Composicion musical para cantar. Awit, kantáhin. Diurnal, adj. [daiérnel] Diurno, diario, cotidiano. Araw-araw, bawa't araw, nauukol sa araw. Dive, v. [dáiv] Sumergirse. Sumukbó, sumisid. Diver, n. [dáiver] Buzo. Máninisid. Diverge, v. [divérdch] Divergir. Humiwalay, lumayô. Divergence, n. [divérdchens] Divergencia. Pagkakahiwalay, pagkakaiba. Divergency, n. [divérdchensi] Divergencia. Pagkakahiwalay, pagkakaiba. Divers, adj. [dáivers] Varios, diferentes. Sarisarì, iba't iba. Diverse, adj. [divérs] Diverso, diferente. Iba, kaiba, hindî kagaya. Diversification, n. [diversifikécion] Variedad, mudanza, alteracion. Pagkakaiba't iba, kaibhán. Diversify, v. [diversífai] Diversificar, variar, diferenciar. Papag-ibaibahín. Diversion, n. [divércion] Diversion, pasatiempo. Líbangan, pagpaparaan ng panahon. Diversity, n. [divérsiti] Diversidad. Pagkakaiba, kaibhan. Divert, v. [divért] Desviar; divertir, recrear. Ilihis, iligaw; libangin. Divertisement, n. [divértizment] Diversion, holgura. Líbangan, pagpaparaan ng panahon. Divest, v. [divést] Desnudar, despojar, desposeer. Hubarán, hubdan, alisán ng pag-aarì. Divesture, n. [divéschur] Despojo. Paghuhubad, pag-aalis ng pag-aarì. Divide, v. [diváid] Dividir. Bahagihin, magbahagi. Divider, n. [diváider] Distribuidor. Tagapagbahagi. Divination, n. [divinécion] Divinacion. Panghuhulà, hulà. Divine, adj. [diváin] Divino, excelente. Nauukol sa Dios; mainam. Divine, n. [diváin] Predicador, teólogo. Parè, pastor. Divine, n. [diváin] Adivinar, conjeturar, pronosticar. Humulà; hulaan. Divinity, n. [divíniti] Divinidad. Pagka-Dios, pagka-Bathalà. Division, n. [divícion] Division; discordia. Bahagi; káalitan. Divorce, n. [divórs] Divorcio, desunion. Paghihiwalay ng magasawa. Divorce, v. [divórs] Divorciar. Ihiwalay ang asawa; humiwalay sa asawa. Divulge, v. [divéldch] Divulgar, publicar. Ipamansag, ihayag. Dizziness, n. [dízines] Vértigo. Lulà, hilo. Dizzy, adj. [dízi] Vertiginoso, aturdido. Lulâ, hiló. Do, v. [du] Hacer, ejecutar, obrar. Gumawâ; gawin. Docile, adj. [dósil] Dócil, apacible. Mahinahon, timtiman, maamongloob. Docility, n. [dosíliti] Docilidad. Hinahon, pagkatimtiman, kaamuang-loob. Dock, n. [doc] Bardana; trozo ó pedazo de cola que le queda al animal despues de habersela cortado; dique. Masamang damó; buntot na nakauslî pagkatapos na maputol; dike. Docket, n. [dóket] Rótulo, extracto. Rótulo; maikling salaysay na nilalaman ng isang mahabang kasulatán. Doctor, n. [dóctor] Doctor; médico. Doktór, pantas, paham; manggagamot. Doctor, v. [dóctor] Curar, medicinar. Gumamot. Doctrine, n. [dóctrin] Doctrina, enseñanza. Aral, turò. Document, n. [dókiument] Documento. Katibayan, kasulatán, dokumento. Documental, adj. [dokiuméntal] Documental. Nauukol sa katibayan ó kasulatan. Dodge, n. [doedh] Trampa. Dayà, hibò, silò. Dodge, v. [doedh] Trampear, entrampar. Magdayà, manghibò sumilò. Doe, n. [do] Gama. Usang babae. Doff, v. [dof] Quitar la ropa, desnudar. Maghubad ng suot, maghubò. Dog, n. [dog] Perro. Áso. Dog-cheap, adj. [dógchip] Muy barato, á bajo precio. Nápaka mura. Dogfish, n. [dógfish] Tiburon. Patíng. Dogged, adj. [dógued] Áspero, brutal. Matigas ang ulo, ugaling hayop. Doggerel, adj. [dóguærel] Vil, bajo. Hámak, bastos. Dogma, n. [dógma] Dogma. Sariling pananampalataya ng gayo't gayon kapisanan, dogma. Dogmatic, adj. [dogmátic] Dogmático. Nauukol sa sariling kapanampalatayahan ó dogma. Dogmatical, adj. [dogmátical] Dogmático. Nauukol sa sariling kapanampalatayahan. Doily, n. [dóili] Especie de servilleta pequeña. Isang klase ng munting serbilyeta ó pámahiran. Doings, n. [dúingz] Hechos, acciones. Mga kagagawán, mga kilos. Dole, n. [dol] Parte, porcion, dádiva, limosna. Bahagi, kaloob, bigay, limos. Dole, n. [dol] Dolor, congoja. Daing, panaghóy. Doleful, adj. [dólful] Doloroso, lúgubre, triste. Kahambalhambal, kahapishapis. Doll, n. [dol] Muñeca. Manyikà. Dollar, n. [dólar] Dollar. Pisong amerikano. Dolor, n. [dólor] Dolor. Sakít, hirap, hapdî, anták. Dolorous, adj. [dóloroes] Doloroso, lastimoso. Masakít, mahapdî, maantak, mahirap. Dolt, n. [dolt] Hombre bobo. Taong ungas. Domain, n. [domén] Dominio, soberanía. Kapangyarihan; lupang saklaw. Domestic, adj. [doméstic] Doméstico, familiar. Nauukol sa sariling buhay, kasamasama, matalik; maamò. Domesticate, v. [doméstiket] Domesticar. Paamuin. Domesticity, n. [domésticiti] Domesticidad. Kaamuan. Domicile, n. [dómisil] Domicilio, casa. Táhanan, bahay. Domination, n. [dominécion] Dominacion, imperio. Kapangyarihan, sakop. Domineer, v. [dominír] Dominar, señorear. Sumupil, lumupig, magpasukò. Dominion, n. [domínion] Dominio, gobierno. Kapangyarihan, pamamahalà. Domino, n. [dómino] Dominó. Dominó. Don, n. [don] Don. Ginoo. Don, v. [don] Meter el vestido. Isuot ang damít. Donate, v. [donét] Donar. Magkaloob, magdulot, umambag, umabuloy, magbigay. Donation, n. [donécien] Donacion. Kaloob, dulot, ambag, bigay; abuloy. Done, p. p. [dan] Hecho. Yarì. Donkey, n. [dónke] Asno, borrico. Borriko, kabayong muntî at malakí ang tainga. Donor, n. [dónor] Donador. Ang nagkakaloob, ang nagbibigay. Doom, n. [dum] Sentencia, condena. Hatol, parusa. Doom, v. [dum] Sentenciar, juzgar, condenar. Humatol, magparusa. Doomsday, n. [dúmzde] Dia del juicio universal. Kaarawan ng paghuhukom. Door, n. [dor] Puerta. Pintô, pintuan. Doorkeeper, n. [dórkiper] Portero. Tanod-pintô, bantay-pintô. Doorway, n. [dórwe] Portada. Pasukán. Dormant, adj. [dórmant] Durmiente. Nakakatulog. Dorsal, adj. [dórsal] Dorsal. Nauukol sa likod. Dose, n. [dos] Dósis, porcion. Dósis, takal ng gamot. Dot, n. [dot] Tilde. Tuldók. Dot, v. [dot] Tildar. Magtuldók. Dotage, n. [dótedch] Chochera, chochez. Pagkaulian; pag-uulian. Dotal, adj. [dótal] Dotal. Nauukol sa bigay-kaya. Dotard, n. [dótard] Viejo que chochea. Ulian. Dotation, n. [dotécion] Dotacion. Pagdudulot ng bigay-kaya, pagkakaloob. Dote, v. [dot] Chochear. Mag-ulian. Double, adj. [dábl] Doble, duplicado. Doble, ibayo, makalawa. Double, n. [dábl] Doblez. Yupì, tiklop. Double, v. [dábl] Doblar, duplicar; plegar. Pag-ibayuhin, dóblihin; yupîin, tiklupin. Doublet, n. [déblet] Justillo; casaca. Kapareha; kamisola. Double-tongued, adj. [dabl-tongd] Engaño, falso. Sinungaling, bulaan. Doubt, n. [dáut] Duda, escrúpulo, sospecha. Alinlangan, sapantahà, hinalà. Doubt, v. [dáut] Dudar, sospechar. Mag-alinlangan, maghinalà, magsapantahà. Doubtful, adj. [dáutful] Dudoso. Nakapag-aalinlangan, urong-sulong. Doubtless, adj. [dáutles] Indubitable. Walang pagsala. Dough, n. [do] Masa. Tapay, masa. Doughty, adj. [dáuti] Bravo, valeroso. Matapang, malakas ang loob. Douse, v. [dáus] Zambullirse. Sumisid, sumukbó. Dove, n. [dav] Paloma. Kalapati. Dove-cot, n. [dáv-cot] Palomar. Bahay-kalapati. Dovehouse, n. [dávjaus] Palomar. Bahay-kalapati. Dovelike, adj. [dávlaik] Colombino. Maamò, magandang loob. Dowdy, adj. [dáudi] Zafio. Salaulà, marungis. Dowdy, n. [dáudi] Mujer desaliñada. Babaing salaulà. Dowel, n. [dówel] Clavo de madera. Pakong kahoy. Dower, n. [dáuoer] Dote. Bigay-gaya, kaloob. Down, adv. & prep. [dáun] Abajo. Sa ibabâ. Down, n. [dáun] Plumon, vello flojel. Balahibong malambot. Downcast, adj. [dáuncast] Apesadumbrado. Mapanglaw, malungkot, malumbay, malamlam. Downfall, n. [dáunfol] Caida, ruina, decadencia. Pagkabagsak, pagkaguhô. Downright, adj. [dáunrait] Patente, manifiesto. Tunay, totoo, hayag. Downright, adv. [dáunrait] Perpendicularmente, á plomo. Paibabâ, pababâ. Down-train, n. [dáun-tren] Tren descendente. Treng pabalík. Downward, adv. [dáunward] Hacia abajo. Pababâ, palusóng. Downwards, adv. [dáunwards] Hacia abajo. Pababâ, palusóng. Downy, adj. [dáuni] Velloso, suave. Mabalahibo, malambot. Dowry, n. [dáuri] Dote. Bigay-kaya, kaloob. Doxology, n. [docsólodchi] La alabanza ó gloria que se da á Dios. Pagpupuri sa Dyos. Doxy, n. [dócsi] Ramera. Masamang babae. Doze, v. [doz] Dormitar; cabecear. Umidlip, mag-antok, magtukâ. Dozen, n. [dózen] Docena. Dosena, labing dalawa. Drab, n. [drab] Paño castaño. Kayong lana na kulay kastanyas. Drachm, n. [drákm] Dracma. Drakma, salapî sa Gresya. Draft, n. [draft] Dibujo; diseño, letra de cambio. Dibuho; plano; letra de cambio. Draft, v. [draft] Dibujar; destacar [mil]. Dumibuho; mag-anyô ng plano; maglagay ng pulutong na kawal sa isang dako ó pook. Draftsman, n. [dráftsman] Diseñador, dibujador. Dibuhista; taga-pag-anyô ng plano. Drag, n. [drag] Carretilla; instrumento con garfio. Paragos; panagíp, panghila. Drag, v. [drag] Arrastrar. Humila; hilahin. Draggle, v. [drágl] Emporcar alguna cosa arrástrandola por el suelo. Dumhan at hilahin sa lupà. Dragon, n. [drágon] Dragon. Dragon, hayop na kathang-isip. Dragonfly, n. [dragónflai] Libélula. Gamogamó. Dragoon, n. [dragún] Dragon. Kawal na nangangabayo at naglalakad din naman. Drain, n. [dren] Desaguadero. Páagusan, pansol. Drain, v. [dren] Desaguar. Limasin, alisan ng tubig. Drainage, n. [drénedch] Desagüe. Páagusan, pansol. Drake, n. [drek] Ánade macho. Itik na lalake ó patong lalake. Drama, n. [dráma] Drama. Drama, palabas-dulaan. Dramatic, adj. [dramátic] Dramático. Nauukol sa drama. Dramatical, adj. [dramátical] Dramático. Nauukol sa drama. Dramatist, n. [drámatist] Dramático. Mángangathâ ng drama ó ng mga palabas dulaan. Dramatize, v. [drámataiz] Dramatizar. Gawing drama. Drape, v. [dræp] Trapear. Takpan ng kayo ó damit. Draper, n. [drépoer] Pañero. Mánininda ng kayo. Drapery, n. [dréoeri] Manufactura de paños. Gáwaan ng kayo. Draught, n. [draft] Trago; dibujo, diseño. Lagok; pagguhit ng banghay. Draw, v. [dro] Tirar, atraer, arrastrar; dibujar. Humila, bumatak, kumabig; dumibujo, gumuhit. Drawback, n. [dróbec] Rebaja ó descuento; rebaja ó descuento de derechos de aduana. Bawas; bawas sa singil ng aduana. Drawer, n. [dróer] Aguador. Mánanalok ng tubig; mang-iigib, tagaigib, tagakadlô ng tubig. Drawers, n. [dróers] Calzoncillos. Salawal. Drawing, n. [dróing] Dibujo. Dibuho, pagguhit. Drawl, n. [drol] Balbucencia. Bulong. Drawl, v. [drol] Balbucear. Bumulong-bulong. Dray, n. [dre] Carro que sive para llevar cargas. Bagol, karitón. Dread, n. [dred] Miedo, terror, espanto. Takot, sindak. Dread, v. [dred] Temer, espantar. Matakot, masíndak, mangilabot. Dreadful, adj. [drédful] Terrible, espantoso. Katakot-takot, kasindak-sindak, kakilákilabot. Dream, n. [drim] Sueño. Panaginip. Dream, v. [drim] Soñar. Managinip. Dreamy, adj. [drími] Quimérico. Mapanaginipín. Drear, adj. [drir] Triste, lúgubre. Malungkot, mapanglaw. Dreary, adj. [dríri] Espantoso, triste. Kapanlawpanlaw, kalagimlagim, kahambalhambal. Dredge, v. [dredch] Rastrear con el rezon. Kumalaykay. Dregs, n. [dregs] Hez. Sapal. Drench, v. [drench] Empapar. Tigmakin, basain. Dress, v. [dres] Vestido, traje. Damit, kasuutan, bihisan. Dress, v. [dres] Vestir. Magdamit, magsuot, magbihis. Dressy, adj. [drési] Aficionado á ataviarse. Maingat sa pagbibihis. Dribble, v. [dribl] Gotear, destilar. Pumatak, tumulò. Dribblet, n. [driblet] Deuda pequeña. Munting utang. Dried-beef, n. [dráid-bif] Carne desecada. Tapa, pindang. Drier, n. [draioer] Desecante. Pangpatuyô. Drift, n. [drift] Impulso, violencia. Pilit, dahás. Drift, v. [drift] Impeler; amontonar. Mag-udyok, magbuyó; magbunton. Drill, n. [dril] Taladro; instruccion de reclutas. Pangbutas; pagtuturò sa mga bagong kawal. Drill, v. [dril] Taladrar; disciplinar, reclutar. Bumutas; turuan ang mga bagong kawal. Drink, n. [drink] Bebida. Inumín. Drink, v. [drink] Beber. Uminom. Drip, n. [drip] Gotilla. Patak, tulò. Drip, v. [drip] Gotear, destilar. Pumatak, tumulò. Dripping, n. [dríping] Pringue. Tabâ. Dripping-pan, n. [dríping-pan] Grasera. Sisidlan ng mantikà. Drive, v. [dráiv] Guiar, conducir. Manguchero; maghatid. Drizzle, n. [drizl] Llovisna. Ambon. Drizzle, v. [drizl] Llovisnar. Umambon. Droll, adj. [drol] Festivo, chistoso, gracioso. Masayá, mapagpatawa. Droll, n. [drol] Bufon. Púsong. Drollery, n. [dróloeri] Bufonería, bufonada, farsa. Katatawanán, birò. Dromedary, n. [drómederi] Dromedario. Dromedaryo. Drone, n. [dron] Haragán, zángano. Taong tamad, pabayâ. Drone, v. [dron] Zanganear. Magpakatamad, magpabayâ. Droop, v. [drup] Descaecer. Malanta. Drop, n. [drop] Gota. Patak, tulò. Drop, v. [drop] Gotear; caer. Pumatak, tumulò; mahulog, malaglag, lumagpak, bumaksak. Dropsy, n. [drópsi] Hidropesía. Sakít na pamamanás. Dross, n. [dros] Escoria, borra, hez, orín. Kalawang, dumí ng metal, taing bakal. Drossy, adj. [drósi] Lleno de escoria. Makalawang. Drought, n. [dráut] Seca, sequía. Pagkakatuyot, panahong salát sa ulán. Droughty, adj. [dráuti] Seco, árido. Tuyót. Drove, n. [drov] Manada, hato; gentío, muchedumbre. Kawan, kában; bunton ng tao, karamihan ng tao. Drover, n. [dróver] Ganadero. May kawan ng hayop. Drown, v. [dráun] Anegar, sumergir; ahogar. Sumukbó, sumisid; lumunod. Drowse, v. [dráuz] Adormecer. Mag-antok, magtukâ. Drowsiness, n. [dráuzines] Somnolencia. Antok. Drowsy, adj. [dráusi] Soñoliento. Nag-aantok, maantukin. Drub, n. [droeb] Golpe, puñada. Bugbog, hampás, palò suntok. Drub, v. [droeb] Apalear, sacudir. Humampas, pumalò. Drubbing, n. [drábing] Paliza. Hampás. Drudge, n. [drédch] Ganapan, marmiton. Mámamasan, mánununong; mánunulong sa kusinà. Drudge, v. [dradch] Afanarse á trabajar en oficios ú ocupaciones desagradables ó viles sin provecho ni honra. Gumawâ ng mga gáwaing walang mápapalâ. Drudgery, n. [drádcheri] Faena ó trabajo vil. Gáwaing hamak. Drug, n. [drag] Droga; fruslería. Gamot; anomang bagay na walang gasinong kabuluhan. Drug, v. [drag] Sazonar ó mezclar con drogas; prescribir drogas. Haluan ng gamot; hatulan ng gamot. Druggist, n. [dráguist] Droguista. Ang nagbibilí ng gamot. Drum, n. [dram] Tambor. Tambol. Drum, v. [dram] Tocar el tambor. Tumambol. Drum-major, n. [dram-médchor] Tambor mayor. Tambol mayor. Drum-stick, n. [dram-stik] Baqueta, palillo de tambor. Panugtog ng tambol. Drunk, adj. [drank] Borracho, ebrio, embriagado. Lasíng, langô. Drunkard, n. [dránkard] Borrachon. Lasíng, langô. Drunken, adj. [dránken] Ebrio. Lasíng, langô. Drunkenness, n. [dránkenes] Embriaguez. Kalasingan, kalanguan. Dry, adj. [drai] Árido, seco. Tuyô. Dry, v. [drai] Secar. Tuyuin, patuyúin. Dryly, adv. [dráili] Secamente. May katuyuan, may pagkatuyô. Dub, v. [dab] Armar á alguno caballero; hacer ruido. Magbansag, mamamsag. Dubious, adj. [diúbioes] Dudoso, incierto. Álanganin. Duck, n. [dac] Ánade, pato. Itik, pato. Duck, v. [dac] Zabullirse, chapuzarse, cabecear. Lumubog, sumugbó, sumisid. Duckling, n. [dákling] Anadeja. Munting itik, sisiw ng itik ó pato. Duct, n. [dact] Conducto, canal. Pádaluyan, agusán. Ductile, adj. [dáctil] Ductíl, flexible. Masunurin, malambot. Dudgeon, n. [dádchen] Daga. Talibong. Due, adj. [diu] Debido, apto, propio. Ukol, bagay, marapat. Due, adv. [diu] Exactamente. Tamà, tapat, totoo. Due, n. [diu] Derecho, tributo impuesto. Atang na sisíngilin. Duel, n. [diúel] Duelo, desafío. Away, babág, labanán. Duel, v. [diúel] Combatir en duelo. Makipag-away, makipagbabag, makipaglaban. Duet, n. [diuét] Duo. Pagtutugmaan sa awit ng dalawa. Dug, n. [dag] Teta de algun animal. Suso ng hayop. Duke, n. [diuk] Duque. Duke. Dukedom, n. [diúkdom] Ducado. Ang nasasakop ng kapangyarihan ng duke. Dulcimer, n. [dúlsimer] Tímpano. Tímpano, [isang instrumentong panugtog]. Dull, adj. [dal] Lerdo, estúpido, insípido; triste, melancólico. Tigíl, dungô, ungas; malamlam, mapanglaw. Dull, v. [dal] Entontecer, entorpecer; contristar. Matigilan, madungô; pumanglaw. Dullness, n. [dálnes] Estupidez, tontería; somnolencia, pesadez. Kadungúan, kaungasan; kalamlamán. Duly, adv. [diúli] Debidamente, puntualmente. Ukol, marapat, bagay, akmâ. Dumb, adj. [dæm] Mudo. Pipi. Dumb-bell, n. [dæm-bel] Halterio. Peso. Dumbness, n. [dámnes] Mudez, silencio. Pagkapipi, pagkawalang kibô. Dummy, n. [dámi] Mudo. Taong pipi. Dumbfound, v. [dámfaund] Confundir, enmudecer. Tuligin, patahimikin. Dump, n. [damp] Tristeza. Panglaw, bigat ng loob. Dumpy, adj. [dámpi] Gordo y de baja estatura. Mataba't pandak. Dun, adj. [doen] Bruno, oscuro. Malabò ang kulay. Dun, n. [doen] Acreedor importuno. Mahigpit na mániningil. Dun, v. [doen] Importunar á un deudor. Maningil ng mahigpít. Dunce, n. [doens] Zote, zopenco. Ungas, hangal, musmos. Dune, n. [diun] Collado. Buról. Dung, n. [dang] Estiercol. Dumí, tae. Dungeon, n. [dándchen] Calabozo; bartolina. Bilangguan. Duo, n. [diúo] Duo. Tugmaan sa awit ng dalawa. Dupe, n. [diup] Bobo. Hangal, tunggak, musmos. Dupe, v. [diup] Engañar. Mangdayà, mang-ulol. Duple, adj. [diúpl] Doble. Doble, ibayo, makalawa. Duplicate, n. [diúpliket] Duplicado, copia. Duplikado, dalawang salin, ikalawang salin. Duplicate, v. [diúpliket] Duplicar. Dalawahin. Duplicity, n. [diuplíciti] Doblez, duplicidad; engaño. Pagkadoble; paggigiring pulá; dayà, kataksilan. Durability, n. [diurabíliti] Duracion. Tagal, láon, pamamarati. Durable, adj. [diúrabl] Durable, duradero. Matatagalan, magtatagal, malalaunan. Durance, n. [diúrans] Duracion. Tagal [sa hirap]. Duration, n. [diurécion] Duracion, continuacion. Tagal, laon, pamamarati. Duress, n. [diúres] Encierro. Pagkakulong, kahirapan. During, prep. [diúring] Mientras, entretanto, durante el tiempo que. Samantalà, habang..., sa loob ng panahong... Dusk, adj. [dask] Obscurecido. Malabò, madilim. Dusk, n. [dask] Color fusco, crepúsculo. Pagdidilim, pagtatakip-silim. Dusk, v. [dask] Obscurecer; hacerse noche. Dumilim; gumabí. Dusky, adj. [dáski] Oscuro, fusco. Madilim, malabò. Dust, n. [dast] Polvo. Alabók, alikabók, gabok. Dust, v. [dast] Despolvorear; polvorear. Magpagpag, palisin ang alikabok; dikdikín, durugin. Dust-cart, n. [dást-cart] Carro de basura. Karo ng dumí ó sukal. Duster, n. [dástoer] Plumero. Pamalís ng alikabok. Dustman, n. [dástman] Basurero. Manglilinis ng dumi ó sukal. Dusty, adj. [dásti] Polvoriento. Maalikabok. Dutch, adj. & n. [dætch] Holandes. Nauukol sa Olanda; taga Olanda [Holanda]. Duteous, adj. [diúties] Obediente, fiel. Masunurin, tapat na loob. Dutiful, adj. [diútiful] Obediente, sumiso. Masunurin, mababangloob. Dutifulness, n. [diútifulnes] Obediencia; respeto. Pagsunod, pagtalima; galang, pitagan. Duty, n. [diúti] Deber, obligacion; impuesto ó derechos de aduana. Katungkulan, bwis ó singil ng aduana. Dwarf, n. [duorf] Enano. Unano, pandak. Dwarf, v. [duorf] Impedir que alguna cosa llegue á su tamaño natural. Papandakín, bansutín. Dwarfish, adj. [duórfish] Enano, pequeño. Unano, pandak. Dwell, v. [duel] Habitar, morar, residir. Tumahan, manahan, tumirá. Dwelling, n. [duéling] Habitacion, vivienda. Táhanan, bahay. Dwindle, v. [duíndl] Mermar, disminuirse. Umuntî, kumaontî, mabawasan. Dye, n. [dai] Tinte. Tinà. Dye, v. [dai] Teñir. Tuminà. Dyeing, n. [dáying] Teñidura. Pagtitinà. Dyer, n. [dáier] Tintorero. Manininà. Dying, adj. [dáying] Agonizante, moribundo. Naghihingalô. Dynamite, n. [dínamit] Dinamita. Dinamita. Dynamo, n. [dáinamo] Dinamo. Makinang pinanggagalingan ng takbó ng elektrisidad. Dynasty, n. [dáinasti] Dinastía. Paghaharì ng gayong angkan ó paghaharì ng sali't saling lahì ng gayong angkan. Dysentery, n. [dísenteri] Disentería. Iti, pag-iiti. Dyspepsy, n. [dispépsi] Dispepsia. Sakit sa sikmurà. Dyspeptic, adj. [dispéptic] Dispéptico. Ang may-sakít sa sikmurà. E E, [i] E. E. Each, prep. [itch] Cada uno. Bawa't, bawa't isa, balang isa. Eager, adj. [íguær] Deseoso, ardiente, vehemente. Sabik, maningas na nais. Eagerness, n. [íguærnes] Ansia, anhelo, vehemencia, ardor. Hangad, pita, pananabik. Eagle, n. [ígl] Águila. Ágila. Eagle-eyed, adj. [ígl-aid] De vista lince. May malayong tanaw. Eagle-sighted, adj. [igl-sáited] De vista lince. May malayong tanaw. Eaglet, n. [íglet] Aguilucho. Munting ágila. Ear, n. [ir] Oreja, oido; espiga. Taingà, taynga, tenga; pakinig; pusò ng maís ó ng palay. Ear, v. [ir] Espigar. Tumubò ang pusô ng maís. Ear-bored, n. [ir-bord] El que tiene las orejas horadadas. May butas ang tenga. Earl, n. [ærl] Conde. Konde, mataas na karangalan. Earlap, n. [ír-lap] Punta de la oreja. Pingol [ng taynga]. Earldom, n. [érldom] Condado. Ang saklaw ng konde. Earless, adj. [írles] Desorejado. Walang taynga. Early, adj. [érli] Presto. Maagap. Early, adv. [érli] Temprano. Maaga. Earn, v. [ærn] Ganar, adquirir caudal, obtener. Kumita, magkaroon n[g] salapî. Earnest, adj. [írnest] Ardiente, fervoroso; diligente, cuidadoso. Masikap, maalab, maningas, masipag, maingat. Earnest, n. [írnest] Veras, seriedad. Katotohanan. Earning, n. [érning] Salario, paga. Kita, pinag-arawan, salaping pinagtrabahuhan. Ear-ring, n. [íring] Zarcillo, pendiente, arillo. Hikaw. Earth, n. [ærz] Tierra. Lupà. Earth, v. [ærz] Enterrar. Ibaon sa lupà. Earthen, adj. [érzn] Térreo, terreno. Bagay na lupà. Earthliness, n. [érzlines] Vanidad mundana. Kalayawan, kamunduhan. Earthly, adj. [érzli] Terrestre, mundano. Ukol sa lupà. Earthquake, n. [érzcuec] Terremoto, temblor de tierra. Lindol. Earthworm, n. [érzworm] Lombriz; gusano. Bulate; uod. Ear-witness, n. [ír-witnes] Testigo de oidos. Saksíng nakárinig. Ease, n. [iz] Quietud, tranquilidad, reposo. Katiwasayan, katahimikan, katimawaan, kaginghawahan. Ease, v. [iz] Aliviar, mitigar. Umigi, guminghawa, lumubay. East, n. [ist] Oriente, este. Silangan, silanganan. Easter, n. [íster] Pascua de resureccion. Paskó ng pagkabuhay. Easter-Eve, n. [íster-iv] Sabado de Gloria. Sábado de Glorya. Easterly, adj. [ísterli] Oriental. Galing [ó buhat] sa silanganan. Eastern, adj. [ístern] Oriental. Galing [ó buhat] sa silanganan. Eastward, adv. [ístward] Hacia el oriente. Sa dakong silanganan, sa gawíng silanganan. Easy, adj. [ízi] Facil. Madalî, magaan. Eat, v. [it] Comer. Kumain. Eatable, adj. & n. [ítabl] Comestible. Nakakain, kakainin; pagkain. Eaves, n. [ivz] Socarrén, alero ó ala de tejado. Balisbisan, lambang. Eaves trough, n. [ívz tro] Caña ó canal de agua. Alulod. Eaves-drop, v. [ívz-drap] Escuchar por la ventana lo que se habla dentro de la casa. Mangulinig sa tabí ng durungawan ng salitaan sa loob ng bahay. Eaves dropper, n. [ívz dróper] Escuchador. Tagaulinig, tagasubok. Ebb, n. [eb] Menguante, reflujo de la marea. Kati ng tubig. Ebb, v. [eb] Menguar ó retroceder la marea. Kumati. Ebbing, n. [ébing] Reflujo. Pagkati. Ebon, adj. [ébon] De ébano; negro. Sa ébano; maitim. Ebony, n. [éboni] Ébano. Ebano, kahoy na maitím. Ebullition, n. [ebulícien] Ebullicion. Pagbubulâ, kulô, bulwák. Eccentric, adj. [eccéntric] Excéntrico; extravagante. Lisyâ sa kalagitnaan; katwâ, kakatwâ. Ecclesiastes, n. [ecliziástiz] Eclesiastes. Eklesiastes [isang aklat ng mga Banal na kasulatan]. Ecclesiastic, adj. [ecliziástic] Eclesiástico. Nauukol sa iglesia, nauukol sa simbahan. Ecclesiastic, n. [ecliziástic] Eclesiástico. Pastor, parè. Echo, v. [éco] Eco. Alingawngaw, dagundong, taginting. Echo, n. [éco] Resonar, repercutir. Umalingawngaw, tumaginting. Eclipse, n. [eclíps] Eclipse. Paglalahò ng bwan ó araw. Eclipse, v. [eclíps] Eclipsar. Maglahò. Ecliptic, n. [eclíptic] Eclíptica. Daan ng araw. Economic, adj. [económic] Económico, moderado. Matipid, mapag-arimohonan. Economical = Economic. Economist, n. [icónomist] Economista. Ang nakatatalos ng karunungan ng pag-aarimohonan. Economize, v. [icónomaiz] Economizar. Mag-arimohonan. Economy, n. [icónomi] Economía. Pagtitipid, pag-aarimohonan; tipid, arimohonan. Ecstasy, n. [écstasi] Extasis; gozo, alegria. Galak, sayá, twâ. Ecstatic, adj. [ecstátic] Extático, gozoso. Galak, masayá, twâ. Eddy, n. [édi] Reflujo de agua, remolino. Ulì-ulì. Edge, n. [edch] Filo, punta; borde, margen, orilla. Talím, patalím; gilid, tabí, laylayan; baybayin, hangganan. Edge, v. [edch] Afilar; ribetear. Maghasà; gawin ang gilid. Edged, adj. [édched] Afilado. Matalas, hasâ. Edge-tool, n. [édch-tul] Herramienta cortante. Kasangkapang panghiwà. Edge ways, adv. [édch ues] De lado. Pagilid, sa gawíng gilid. Edge wise, adv. [édch waiz] De lado. Pagilid, sa gawíng gilid. Edging, n. [édching] Orla; orilla, ribete. Puntás; gilid, tabí. Edible, adv. [édibl] Comestible. Nakákain. Edict, n. [ídict] Edicto, mandato. Utos. Edification, n. [edifikécion] Edificacion. Pagtatayô [ng bahay ó gusalì]. Edifice, n. [édifis] Edificio. Gusalì, bahay. Edify, v. [édifai] Edificar; instruir. Magtayô ó gumawâ [ng gusalì ó bahay]; magturò. Edit, v. [édit] Publicar ó imprimir alguna obra ajena. Mag-ulat ó lumimbag ng kathâ ng iba. Edition, n. [idícien] Edicion ó impresion de alguna obra. Pagkalimbag ng isang kathâ ó aklat. Editor, n. [éditor] Editor, director. Ang nagpalimbag, namamatnugot, namamahalà. Editorial, adj. [editórial] Editorial. Pangulong lagdâ. Educate, v. [édiuket] Educar, criar, enseñar. Magturò, mag-alagà, mag-iwí. Education, n. [ediukécion] Educacion, crianza. Turò, alagà, iwí; galang. Educator, n. [édiuketor] Educador, instructor. Tagapagturò, tagapag-iwí. Educe, v. [idíus] Educir, sacar á luz. Hanguin, ilitaw, ihayag. Eel, n. [il] Anguila. Palós. Efface, v. [efés] Borrar, destruir. Pawiin, katkatín, lipulin. Effect, n. [eféct] Efecto, realidad. Pinangyarihan, nagíng bunga. Effect, v. [eféct] Efectuar, ejecutar. Gawín, yariin, isagawâ. Effective, adj. [eféctiv] Eficaz, efectivo. Mabisa, mabagsik, masidhî, masigla; kasalukuyan. Effectual, adj. [efécchiwal] Eficiente, eficaz. Mabisá, masidhî. Effeminacy, n. [eféminesi] Afeminacion, cobardia. Pagpapakababae, karwagan. Effeminate, adj. [eféminet] Afeminado, mujeril. Tila babae, kilos babae. Effeminate, v. [eféminet] Afeminar, debilitar. Magpakababae, madwag. Effervesce, v. [eférves] Hervir, fermentar. Kumulô, bumulwak, sumilakbo. Effervescence, n. [efoervésens] Efervescencia, hervor. Bulwak, kulô, silakbo. Effete, adj. [efít] Usado, gastado; esteril. Gasgas, pudpod; baog. Efficacious, adj. [efikécioes] Eficaz. Mabisà, mabagsik, masidhî. Efficacy, n. [éficasi] Eficacia. Bisà, sidhî, bagsik. Efficiency, n. [efíciensi] Eficiencia. Bisà ng paggawâ. Efficient, adj. [efícient] Eficiente. Nakagagawâ, mabisà. Effigy, n. [éfidchi] Efigie, imagen. Larawan. Effluvium, n. [efliúvioem] Efluvio. Agas. Effort, n. [éfort] Esfuerzo, empeño. Sikap, masákit. Effrontery, n. [efrónteri] Descaro, impudencia. Kahalayan, kalapastanganan. Effulgence, n. [efúldchens] Resplandor, lustre, fulgor. Ningning, dilag, kintab, silaw. Effulgent, adj. [efúldchent] Resplandeciente, lustroso, brillante. Maningning, marilag, makintab, nakasisilaw. Effuse, v. [efiúz] Derramar, esparcir. Ibuhos, ibugsô. Effusion, n. [efiúcioen] Efusión, derramamiento. Pagbubuhos, pagbubugsô. Effusive, adj. [efiúsiv] Difusivo. Bumubugsô, naglalagos. Eft, n. [eft] Lagartija. Butikî. Egg, n. [eg] Huevo. Itlog. Egg, v. [eg] Incitar, inducir, provocar. Magbuyó, mungkahiin. Egg-plant, n. [eg-plant] Berengenas. Talóng. Egg-shell, n. [eg-shel] Cáscara de huevo. Balat ng itlog. Egoism, n. [ígoizm] Egoismo. Ang malabis na pananarili na walang lingon likod sa iba. Egregious, adj. [igrídches] Egregio, insigne, ilustre. Bunyî, magiting, bantog. Egress, n. [ígres] Salida. Paglabas, pag-alis. Egyptian, adj. [idchípcioen] Egipcio. Nahihinggil sa Ehipto. Egyptian, n. [idchípcioen] Egipcio. Taga Ehipto. Eh, int. [eh] Que. Ano. Eight, adj. [eít] Ocho. Waló. Eighteen, adj. [éitin] Diez y ocho. Labing walo. Eighteenth, adj. [éitinz] Décimo octavo. Ikalabing walo. Eightfold, adj. [étfold] Ocho veces tanto. Makáwalo. Eighth, adj. [eitz] Octavo. Ikawalo. Eightieth, adj. [étiez] Octogésimo. Ika walong pû. Eighty, adj. [éiti] Ochenta. Walong pû. Either, conj. [ídzer] O sea, ya. O man, maging, kahiman. Either, pron. [ízer] Cualquiera de los dos. Alin man, kahit alin. Ejaculate, v. [idchákiulet] Lanzar, expeler. Magwaksí; magpaalis; magbadyá ng pabiglâ. Ejaculation, n. [idchákiulecion] Eyaculacion. Pagwawaksí; pagpapaalis; pagbabadya ng pabiglâ. Eject, v. [idchéct] Expeler, desechar. Ihagis, itapon. Ejection, n. [ichéccien] Expulsion. Paghahagis, pagtatapon. Ejectment, n. [idchéctment] Mandamiento de despojo; expulsion de una posesion. Pananamsam, pangangamkam. Eke, n. [ic] Aumento. Dagdag. Eke, v. [ic] Aumentar, alargar, prolongar. Máragdagan, humabà, maglwat. Elaborate, adj. [iláboret] Elaborado, esmerado, primoroso. Mainam, maayos, maigi. Elaborate, v. [iláboret] Elaborar. Painamin, paigihin. Elapse, v. [iláps] Pasar, correr el tiempo. Lumipas, makaraan ang panahon. Elastic, adj. [ilástic] Elástico. Parang lástiko, napahahabà, sunodsunuran. Elastical, adj. [ilástical] Elástico. Parang lastiko, napahahabà, sunodsunuran. Elasticity, n. [ilastísiti] Elasticidad. Pagkaparang lástiko. Elate, adj. [ilét] Altivo, orgulloso. Mapagmalakí, hambog. Elate, v. [ilét] Engreir, ensoberbecer. Magmalakí, maghambog. Elation, n. [ilécion] Engreimiento, orgullo. Kahambugan, pagmamalakí. Elbow, n. [élbo] Codo. Siko. Elbow, v. [élbo] Codear. Sikuhin; manikó. Eld, n. [eld] Vejez; los ancianos. Katandaan; ang matatandâ. Elder, adj. [élder] Mayor. Lalong matandâ. Elderly, adv. [élderli] De edad ya madura. May katandaan. Elders, n. [élders] Ancianos; antepasados. Ang matatandâ; kanunuan. Eldership, n. [éldoership] Ancianidad. Katandáan. Eldest, adj. [éldest] Lo mas anciano. Pinaka matandâ, kátandatandaan. Elect, adj. [iléct] Elegido, escogido. Halál; pilí, hirang. Elect, v. [iléct] Elegir. Maghalal. Election, n. [iléccion] Eleccion. Paghahalal. Electioneering, n. [ileccieníring] Maniobras secretas en la eleccion de parlamentario. Mga pakanang lihim sa paghahalalan. Elective, adj. [iléctiv] Electivo. Hinggil sa paghahalalan. Elector, n. [iléctor] Elector. Manghahalal. Electoral, adj. [iléctoral] Electoral. Hinggil sa paghahalal. Electorate, n. [iléctoroet] Electorado. Isang buong pook ng mga manghahalal. Electric, adj. [iléctric] Eléctrico. Eléktriko, nauukol sa lintik. Electrical, adj. [iléctrical] Eléctrico. Eléktriko, nauukol sa lintik. Electrician, n. [iléctricien] Persona versada en la electricidad. Ang nakakaalam ng tungkol sa elektrisidad. Electricity, n. [ilectrísiti] Electricidad. Elektrisidad, dagitab. Electrify, v. [iléctrifai] Electrizar. Elektrisahín, pakwanán ng elektrisidad. Elegance, n. [éligans] Elegancia. Kisig, inam, kinis. Elegant, adj. [éligant] Elegante. Makisig, mainam. Element, n. [éliment] Elemento; fundamento. Bahagi, simulâ. Elemental, adj. [eliméntal] Elemental. Nauukol sa bahagi ó simulâ. Elementary, adj. [eliménteri] Elemental. Simulâ, bago. Elephant, n. [élifant] Elefante. Elepante. Elephantine, adj. [elifántin] Elefantino, inmenso. Gaelepante, napakalaki. Elevate, adj. [élivet] Elevado. Mataas, matayog. Elevate, v. [élivet] Elevar, exaltar. Itaas, pataasin. Elevation, n. [elivécion] Elevacion. Pagkataas, pagpapataas. Elevator, n. [élivetor] Elevador. Makinang pangtaas. Eleven, adj. [iléven] Once. Labing isa. Eleventh, adj. [ilévenz] Undécimo. Ika labing isa. Elf, n. [elf] Duende. Dwende, nunò. Elf, v. [elf] Enmarañar el pelo. Gusutin ang buhok. Elfin, adj. [élfin] Lo perteneciente á duendes. Hinggil sa dwende. Elicit, v. [ilísit] Poner por obra, ejecutar lo ideado. Isagawâ. Eligibility, n. [elidchibíliti] Elegibilidad. Ang kalagayan na máihahalal. Eligible, adj. [élidcibl] Eligible. Máihahalal. Eliminate, v. [ilíminet] Eliminar, descartar. Linawin, alisin. Elite, n. [elít] Lo mejor, lo selecto. Ang pinaka mainam, ang maigi. Elixir, n. [ilícsir] Elixir. Elixir, gamot. Elk, n. [elk] Alce, anta. Malaking usá. Ellipsis, n. [elípsis] Elipsis. Paglaktaw sa gayot-gayong salitâ. Elliptic(al), adj. [eléptic(al)] Elíptico. Nauukol sa paglaktaw sa gayo't-gayong salitâ. Elocution, n. [elokiúcien] Elocucion. Pananalitâ, pangungusap, pananalumpatì. Elocutionary, adj. [elokiucióneri] Lo que pertenece á la elocucion. Nauukol sa pananalitâ ó pangungusap ó pananalumpatì. Elocutionist, n. [elokiucionist] Declamador. Mánanalumpatì. Elongate, v. [ilóngguet] Alargar, apartar, alejar. Unatin, pahabain; ilayô. Elongation, n. [ilonguécion] Prolongacion; alejamiento. Pag-uunat, pagpapahabà; paglalayô. Elope, v. [ilóp] Raptar. Magtaanan ng babae. Elopement, n. [ilópment] Rapto. Pagtataanan ng babae. Eloquence, n. [élocuens] Elocuencia. Kainaman sa pananalitâ; gandá ng pananalitâ. Eloquent, adj. [élocuent] Elocuente. Mainam na manalitâ, magandang manalitâ. Else, conj. [els] De otro modo. Sa ibang paraan, kung dilì. Else, pron. [els] Otro. Iba, pa, sakâ. Elsewhere, adv. [élsjuer] En otra parte. Sa kabilang dako. Elucidate, v. [iliúsidet] Dilucidar, explicar. Liwanagan, ipaliwanag. Elucidation, n. [iliúsidécion] Elucidacion, explicacion. Paliwanag, kaliwanagan. Elude, v. [iliúd] Eludir, evitar. Umiwas, umilag. Eludible, adj. [iliúdibl] Evitable. Maiiwasan, maiilagan. Elusion, n. [iliuzion] Escapatoria. Ilag, iwas. Elusive, adj. [iliúsiv] Artificioso. Marayà, nakakadayà. Elusory, adj. [iliusori] Fraudulento, artificioso. Nakakadayà. Elve, n. [elv] Encanto. Enkanto. Elvish, adj. [elvish] Encantado. Enkantado, may enkanto. Emaciate, v. [inméciæt] Extenuar, adelgazar. Panipisín, pangayayatin. Emaciation, n. [imeciécien] Extenuacion, flaqueza. Pagnipis, pangangayayat. Emanate, v. [émanet] Emanar. Magmulâ, magbuhat, manggaling. Emanation, n. [emanécion] Emanacion, origen. Pagmumulâ, pagbubuhat, panggagaling. Emancipate, v. [imánsipet] Emancipar. Magpalayà. Emancipation, n. [imansipécien] Emancipacion. Pagpapalayà. Emasculate, adj. [imáskiulet] Castrado. Bating, kapon. Emasculate, v. [imáskiulet] Castrar. Kumapon; kapunín. Embalm, v. [embám] Embalsamar. Embalsamahin, gamutin ang bangkay ng hwag mabulok. Embank, v. [embánk] Terraplenar. Magtambak, magtabon. Embankment, n. [embánkment] Terraplen. Tambak, tabon. Embarcation, n. [embarkécion] Embarcacion. Sasakyan sa tubig. Embargo, n. [embárgo] Embargo; detencion de buque. Pagbabawal ng pag-alis ng isang sasakyan sa tubig. Embark, v. [embárc] Embarcar. Lumulan; maglulan; sumakay; magsakay. Embarrass, v. [embárras] Embarazar, enredar. Manglitó, lumitó, tumulíg, gumuló. Embarrassment, n. [embárrasment] Embarazo, enredo. Gusot, guló. Embassador, n. [embásador] Embajador. Sugong kinatawan ng isang bansá. Embassy, n. [émbasi] Embajada. Pasugò ng isang bansá. Embattle, v. [embátl] Formar en orden de batalla. Humanay sa pakikipagbaka. Embellish, v. [embélish] Hermosear. Pagandahin, parikitin. Embellishment, n. [embélishment] Adorno, ornato. Pagpapalamuti, paggagayak, pagpapaganda. Embers, n. [émboerz] Rescoldo. Baga. Embezzle, v. [embézl] Hurtar; malgastar. Magnakaw; mag-aksayá, mag-alibughâ. Embezzlement, n. [embézlment] Hurto, robo. Pagnanakaw, pangduduwit. Emblem, n. [émblem] Emblema. Sasisag. Emblematic, adj. [emblemátic] Emblemático, simbólico. Nauukol sa sagisag. Emblematical, adj. [emblemátical] Emblemático, simbólico. Nauukol sa sagisag. Embodiment, n. [embódiment] Incorporacion. Samahán, kapisanan. Embody, v. [embódi] Incorporar. Isama, ipisan. Embolden, v. [embóldn] Animar. Lumakas ang loob, tumapang. Emboss, v. [embós] Grabar en realce ó de relieve. Magtampok ng palamuti, maglilok. Embrace, n. [embrés] Abrazo. Yakap, yapos. Embrace, v. [embrés] Abrazar. Yumakap, yumapos. Embracement, n. [embrésment] Abrazo. Pagyakap, pagyapos. Embrocate, v. [émbroket] Estregar, frotar. Humilot, pahiran ng gamot. Embrocation, n. [embrokécion] Estragamiento, frotamiento. Paghilot, pagpapahid ng gamot. Embroider, v. [embróider] Bordar. Magburdá; manahî. Embroidery, n. [embróideri] Bordado. Táhiin, bordado. Emend, v. [iménd] Enmendar, corregir. Isaayos, pabutihin. Emendation, n. [emendécioen] Enmienda, correccion. Pagtutwid, pagsasaayos, pagpapakabuti. Emerge, v. [imérdch] Salir, proceder. Lumabas, lumitaw, manggalin, magmulâ. Emergency, n. [imérdchensi] Emergencia. Pangyayaring hindî sinasadyâ. Emery, n. [émeri] Esmeril. Lihà. Emetic, adj. [imétic] Emético, vomitivo. Pangpasuka. Emetic, n. [imétic] Emético. Pangpasuka, nakákasuka. Emigrant, v. [émigrant] Emigrado. Nangingibang bayan. Emigrate, v. [émigret] Emigrar. Mangibang bayan. Emigration, n. [emigrécioen] Emigracion. Pangingibang bayan. Eminence, n. [éminens] Altura, elevacion; eminencia, título de honor de los cardenales. Kataasan, kadakilaan; karilagan, kabunyian. Eminency, n. [éminensi] Altura, elevacion; eminencia, título de honor de los cardenales. Kataasan, kadakilaan; karilagan, kabunyian. Eminent, adj. [éminent] Eminente, elevado, distinguido. Marilag, bunyî, magiting. Emissary, n. [émiseri] Emisario; espía. Sugong lihim; tiktik. Emission, n. [imícioen] Emision. Paglalabas. Emit, v. [imít] Emitir, echar de sí. Maglabas, maglitaw, maghayag. Emmet, n. [émet] Hormiga. Langgam. Emolliate, v. [imóliet] Ablandar. Lumambot. Emollient, adj. [imólient] Emoliente ó que sirve para ablandar. Pangpalambot. Emolument, n. [imóliument] Emolumento, provecho. Pakinabang, tubò. Emotion, n. [imócioen] Emocion, agitation del ánimo. Baklá, kabá, kutog; sigla; sikdó. Emotional, adj. [imócional] Concitativo. Nakababaklá; nakakapagpasigla. Emperor, n. [émperor] Emperador. Emperador, harì ng malaking bansá. Emphasis, n. [émfasis] Énfasis. Diín. Emphatic, adj. [émfatic] Enfático. Mariín. Emphasise, v. [emfasáis] Hablar con énfasis. Manalitâ ng mariín. Empire, n. [émpair] Imperio. Imperyo, malaking kaharian. Employ, n. [emplói] Empleo, ocupacion. Gáwain sa isang káwanihan, tunkúlin. Employ, v. [emplói] Emplear, ocupar. Manungkol, maggugol ng panahon. Employee, n. [emplóyi] Empleado. Kawaní. Employment, n. [emplóiment] Empleo. Kalagayang pagkakawaní. Emporium, n. [empórioem] Emporio. Bayang kálakalan; dakong tiyángihan; pámilihan. Empower, v. [empáuoer] Autorizar, dar poder. Magbigay kapangyarihan. Empress, n. [émpres] Emperatriz. Emperatrís, asawa ng emperador ó ng harì sa malaking bansá. Emptiness, n. [émtines] Vaciedad. Kawalan ng laman. Empty, adj. [émti] Vacio; inutil; ignorante. Walang lamán; walang kabuluhan; hangal. Empty, v. [émti] Vaciar. Alisan ng laman. Emulate, v. [émiulet] Emular, competir; imitar. Lumaban, makipagpunyagî; gumaya. Emulation, n. [emiulécioen] Emulacion, rivalidad. Pakikilaban, pakikipagpunyagî. Emulsion, n. [imulcioen] Emulsion. Pangalan ng gamot. Enable, v. [enébl] Habilitar, poner en estado de. Makakaya, maka.... Enact, v. [enáct] Establecer, decretar. Magtatag magpasyá, magbigay utos, mag-utos. Enactment, n. [enáctment] Decreto, dictamen. Pasiya, utos. Enamour, v. [enamoer] Enamorar. Mangibig, mangligaw. Encage, v. [enkédch] Enjaular. Kulungin, isilid sa haula. Encamp, v. [encámp] Acampar [se]. Humantong ó humimpil [ang isang hukbo]; magtayô ng kampamento; magkampamento. Encampment, n. [encámpment] Campamento. Kampamento, dakong kinahahantungan [ng hukbo]. Encase, v. [enkés] Encajar. Isilid sa kaha ó sa kahón. Enchain, v. [enchén] Encadenar. Itanikalâ. Enchant, v. [enchánt] Encantar. Halinahin, ganyakin, bihagin ang kalooban. Encircle, v. [ensírcl] Cercar, rodear. Bakurin, kubkubin, kulungin. Enclose, v. [enclóz] Cercar, circunvalar algun terreno. Bakuran. Enclosure, n. [enclósiur] Cercamiento, cercado. Loobán, dakong nababakuran. Encompass, v. [enkómpas] Circundar, rodear. Ligirin. Encore, adv. [éncor] Otra vez, de nuevo. Mulî, ulî. Encore, int. [éncor] Otra! otra vez, mas. Isa pa! hali pa! hala pa ulî. Encore, v. [éncor] Pedir que un actor repita lo que ha cantado ó recitado. Ipaulit ang kinantá ó itinalumpatî. Encounter, n. [encáunter] Encuentro, choque. Tagpô, sagupà, banggâ, bunggô. Encounter, v. [encáunter] Encontrar, acometer al enemigo. Mákatagpô; sumalubong, sumagupà, dumaluhong. Encourage, v. [enkéredch] Animar, alentar. Magpalakas ng loob, magpatapang. Encouragement, n. [enkéredchment] Estímulo. Pangpalakas ng loob, pangpatapang. Encroach, v. [encróch] Usurpar, apropiarse lo ajeno. Kumamkám, mangamkám. Encroachment, n. [encróchment] Usurpacion. Pangangamkam. Encumber, v. [enkámboer] Embarazar. Gumambalà, umabala. Encumbrance, n. [enkámbrans] Embarazo, estorbo. Gambalà, abala. End, n. [end] Fin, cabo, extremidad. Katapusan, dulo, wakas, hangganan, hanggá. End, v. [end] Acabar, terminar, concluir; matar, quitar la vida; acabarse. Tumapos, yumarì; lumutas; umutás; humangga. Endanger, v. [endéndcher] Peligrar, arriesgar. Manganib, mangambá. Endear, v. [endír] Encarecer. Mahalín. Endearment, n. [endírment] Encarecimiento. Pagmamahal. Endeavor, n. [endívoer] Esfuerzo, empeño. Sikap, masákit. Endeavor, v. [endívoer] Esforzarse, intentar. Magsumikap, magsikap, magsumakit. Ending, n. [énding] Conclusion, cesacion; muerte. Katapusan, pagkatapos, paglilikat, paghanggá, pagkalutas, pagkautas. Endless, adj. [éndles] Interminable. Walang hanggan, walang katapusan, walang dulo. Endorse, v. [endórs] Endosar una letra de cambio; rubricar, autorizar. Isalin sa iba ang kapangyarihan ng pagsingil ng isang "letra de cambio;" pumirmá, magpahintulot. Endow, v. [endáu] Dotar á una mujer. Makaloob ng bigay-kaya, magdulot. Endowment, n. [endáument] Dote, dotacion. Bigay-kaya, dote. Endurance, n. [endiúrans] Duracion; paciencia, sufrimiento. Pagmamatigas; pagtitiis, pagbabatá. Endure, v. [endiúr] Sufrir, soportar, aguantar. Magmatigas, magbatá, magtiis. Endways, adv. [éndwes] De punta, derecho. Twid, patulóy. Enemy, n. [énimi] Enemigo. Kaaway, kaalit, kalaban, kagalit, katalo. Energetic, adj. [enoerdchétic] Enérgico, vigoroso. Buháy ang loob, magilas. Energy, n. [énoerdchi] Energía, vigor. Kabuhayan ng loob, kagilasan, gilas. Enfeeble, v. [enfíbl] Debilitar. Huminà, manglatâ. Enforce, v. [enfórs] Esforzar, violentar, compeler. Pilitin, ibuyó. Enforcement, n. [enfórsment] Compulsion, coaccion. Pagpilit, pamimilit. Enfranchise, v. [enfránchaiz] Franquear, poner en libertad; emancipar. Palayain, alisin sa pagkaalipin. Engage, v. [enguédch] Empeñar, comprometer. Mangakò na makikipagkita ó paparoon; makipagkayarî. Engaged, adj. [enguédched] Comprometido. May pangakò. Engagement, n. [enguédchment] Empeño, comprometimiento. Pangakò. Engender, v. [endchénder] Engendrar, producir. Manganak. Engine, n. [éndchin] Máquina, locomotora. Mákina. Engineer, n. [endchinír] Ingeniero, makinista. Inhinyero, makinista; marunong ng pasikotsikot ng mákina. Engineering, n. [endchiníring] Arte del ingeniero. Karunungan tungkol sa mga mákina at sa inhinyeryá. English, adj. [ínglish] Inglés. Ingglés. English, n. [ínglish] Inglés. Ingglés, taga Inglaterra. English, v. [ínglish] Traducir en idioma ingles. Isalin sa wikang ingglés. Engrave, v. [engrév] Gravar, tallar, esculpir. Lumilok. Engraving, n. [engréving] Grabado. Paglililok. Engross, v. [engrós] Engordar, engrosar. Patabain, palakhín. Engulf, v. [engálf] Engolfar; engullir. Palaot; sumakmal. Enhance, v. [enháns] Encarecer, levantar en alto. Mahalán, pataasin. Enhancement, n. [enhánsment] Encarecimiento. Pagpapamahal, pagpapataas. Enigma, n. [inígma] Enigma. Bugtong; bugtungan. Enigmatic, adj. [inigmátic] Enigmático. Parang bugtong, malabò. Enigmatical, adj. [inigmátical] Enigmático. Parang bugtong, malabò. Enjoin, v. [endchóin] Mandar, encargar, advertir. Magbilin, magtagubilin. Enjoy, v. [endchóy] Gozar, poseer. Matwâ, magalak; magtaglay, magtamó, magkamít. Enjoyment, n. [endchóiment] Placer; goce, disfrute. Twâ, galak; taglay, tamó, kamít. Enlarge, v. [enlárdch] Engrandecer, dilatar [se], extender [se]. Lumakí, magpalakí, humabà, magpahabà, dumami, magparami. Enlargement, n. [enlárdchment] Aumento, ampliacion. Pagdaragdag, pagpapalakí. Enlighten, v. [enláiten] Alumbrar, iluminar; instruir. Liwanagan, turuan. Enlightenment, n. [enláitnment] Ilustracion, instruccion. Pagpapaliwanag, pagtuturò. Enlist, v. [enlíst] Alistar, sentar plaza. Patalâ; magsundalo. Enlistment, n. [enlístment] Alistamiento. Pagpapatalâ. Enliven, v. [enláivn] Animar, avivar. Palakasin ang loob, buhayin ang loob. Enmesh, v. [enmésh] Enredar, enmarañar. Siluin. Enmity, n. [énmiti] Enemistad. Poot, pagtatanim ng loob. Ennoble, n. [enóbl] Ennoblecer. Parangalín, parangalán. Enormity, n. [inórmiti] Enormidad. Lakíng dî kawasà. Enormous, adj. [inórmoes] Enorme. Malakíng dî kawasà. Enough, adj. & adv. [ináf] Bastante, suficiente. Sukat, sapát, kasya. Enough, n. [ináf] Lo suficiente. Kasukatán, karapatan, kakasyahan. Enquire, v. [enquáir] Informarse, inquirir, averiguar. Magsiyasat, mag-usisà, mag-urirà, magtanong. Enquiry, n. [encuíre] Indagacion. Pagsisiyasat, pag-uusisà, pagtatanong. Enrage, v. [enrédch] Enfurecer, irritar, encolerizar. Galitin, papag-initin. Enrich, v. [enrítch] Enriquecer. Payamanin. Enroll, v. [enról] Alistar, registrar. Patalâ, magtalâ ng pangalan. Enrollment, n. [enrólment] Registro. Pagtatalâ. Ensample, n. [ensámpl] Ejemplo. Halimbawà. Ensconce, v. [enscóns] Resguardar con un fortin. Mangublí, manganlong. Enshrine, v. [enshrín] Guardar como reliquia. Itagong pinaka ala-ala. Enshroud, v. [enshród] Amortajar. Balutin ng sapot. Ensign, n. [énsain] Bandera. Watawat, bandilà, bandera. Enslave, v. [enslév] Esclavizar. Alipinin, busabusin. Enslavement, n. [enslévment] Esclavitud. Pagkaalipin, pagkabusabos. Ensue, v. [ensiú] Seguirse, suceder. Sumunod, humalile, bumuntot. Ensurance, n. [ensiúrans] Seguro. Seguro, pananagot sa buhay ó pag-aarì ng sanggayon. Ensure, v. [ensiúr] Asegurar. Pasiguro; pasagutan ang buhay ó pag-aarì ng sanggayon. Entangle, v. [entángl] Enredar, embrollar, embarazar. Mangguló, mang-abala, gumambalà, gumawâ ng sabid. Entanglement, n. [entánglment] Enredo, embarazo. Sabíd, abala, gambalà. Entangler, n. [entángloer] Enredador, embrollon. Mangguguló, mapag-gawâ ng sabíd. Enter, v. [éntoer] Entrar, penetrar. Pumasok, pasa loob. Enterprise, n. [éntoerpraiz] Empresa. Layon, panukalà. Entertain, v. [entérten] Entretener, divertir. Lumibang, umaliw; libangin, aliwín. Entertainer, n. [entoerténoer] Huésped; el que alegra ó divierte á otros. Ang nag-anyaya; ang lumilibang, ang nagbibigay kasayahan. Entertainment, n. [entoerténment] Entretenimiento, diversion. Líbangan, kasayahan, pangparaan ng panahon. Enthral, v. [enzról] Oprimir. Pumighatì. Enthralling, adj. [enzróling] Opresivo. Nakapipighatì. Enthrone, v. [enzrón] Entronizar. Iluklok sa trono. Enthronement, n. [enzrónment] Entronizacion. Pagluluklok. Enthusiasm, n. [enziúziasm] Entusiasmo. Sigla. Enthusiastic, adj. [enziuziástic] Entusiasta. Masigla. Entice, v. [entáis] Tentar, instigar. Manuksó. Enticement, n. [entáisment] Instigacion. Tuksó, panunuksó. Entire, adj. [entáir] Entero, completo. Buô, ganap. Entirely, n. [entáirli] Entereza. Kabuoan. Entitle, v. [entáitl] Entitular, autorizar. Marapatin. Entomb, v. [entúm] Sepultar. Ilibing. Entrails, n. [éntrelz] Entrañas. Bituka, káloob-looban. Entrance, n. [éntrans] Entrada; admision. Pasukán; pasok. Entrap, v. [entráp] Entrampar, enredar, engañar. Manilò, manghibò, mangdayà. Entreat, v. [entrít] Rogar, suplicar. Sumamò, mamanhik, makiusap. Entreaty, n. [entríti] Ruego, súplica, solicitud. Samò, pamanhik, pakikiusap. Entree, n. [éntri] Entrada. Pagpasok. Entrust, v. [entrást] Confiar. Magkatiwalà, tumiwalà. Entry, n. [éntri] Entrada. Pagpasok, pasukán. Entwine, v. [entwáin] Entrelazar, enroscar. Mamulupot, mamilipit, magpalikawlikaw. Enumerate, v. [iniúmeret] Enumerar. Bumilang; bilangin. Enumeration, n. [iniumerécion] Enumeracion. Pagbilang. Enunciate, v. [iniúnciet] Enunciar, declarar. Magbalità, maghayag. Enunciation, n. [iniunciecien] Enunciacion, declaracion pública. Pagbabalità, paghahayag. Envelop, v. [envílop] Envolver, aforrar. Balutin. Envelope, n. [énvelop] Sobre, envolvedero. Sobre, balot ng sulat, balutan. Envenom, v. [envénom] Envenenar. Lumason; lasunin. Envious, adj. [énvious] Envidioso. Mainggitin. Environ, v. [énviron] Rodear, cercar, bloquear, sitiar. Ligirin, kubkubin. Envoy, n. [énvoi] Enviado, mensajero. Sugò, inutusan. Envy, n. [énvi] Envidia. Inggít, kainggitan, pananaghilì. Envy, v. [énvi] Envidiar. Mainggit, managhilì. Epact, n. [ípact] Epacta. Epakta [ó ang kalendaryo ng mga parì]. Ephemeral, adj. [ifémeral] Efímero. Mamaghapon ang tagal. Epicene, adj. [épisin] Epiceno. Nauukol sa lalake at babae. Epidemic, adj. [epidémic] Epidémico; general. Ang nauukol sa sakít na sumasalot sa pook, bayan ó bansa sa isang panahon, kalahatan. Epidemy, n. [épidemi] Epidemia. Sakít na sumasalot sa isang pook, bayan ó bansa sa isang panahon. Epidermis, n. [epidérmis] Epidérmis, cutícula. Balat sa labas. Epilepsy, n. [épilepsi] Epilepsia. Himatay. Epileptic, adj. [epiléptic] Epiléptico. Hímatayin, nauukol sa sakít na himatay. Epiphany, n. [ipífani] Epifania. Paglitaw, pagsipot; pistá ng Tatlong Harì. Episcopate, n. [ipíscopet] Obispado. Saklaw ng isang Obispo. Episode, n. [épisod] Episodio. Bukod na salaysay sa loob ng talagang sinasalaysay. Epistle, n. [ipísl] Epístola. Sulat, liham. Epistolary, adj. [ipístoleri] Epistolar. Nauukol sa sulat ó liham. Epitaph, n. [épitaf] Epitafio. Lagdang nasusulat sa pinaglibingan. Epitome, n. [ipítomi] Epítome, resumen. Maikling salaysay ó katas na nilalaman ng isang kathâ ó akdâ. Epoch, n. [ipóc] Época. Panahon. Epson salt, n. [épson solt] Magnesia calsinada. Magnesya kalsinada. Equable, adj. [ícuabl] Igual, uniforme. Kagaya, kapara, kaparis. Equal, adj. [ícual] Igual, semejante. Kagaya, kawangis, kawangkî. Equal, v. [ícual] Igualar. Pagparahin, pagparisin; pagparehohin. Equality, n. [icuóliti] Igualdad. Pagkakapantay, pagkakaparis. Equalization, n. [icualizécion] Igualamiento. Pagpaparis, pagtutulad. Equalize, v. [ícualaiz] Igualar. Pagparisin, pagpantayin. Equally, adv. [ícuali] Igualmente. Gayon din, may pagkakaparis. Equanimity, n. [icuanímiti] Ecuanimidad, serenidad de ánimo. Lamíg ng loob, katibayan ng loob. Equator, n. [icuétor] Ecuador. Ekwador. Equestrian, adj. [icuéstrian] Ecuestre. Nauukol sa pangangabayo. Equestrian, n. [icuéstrian] Ecuestre. Marunong mangabayo. Equiangular, adj. [icuiánguiular] Equiángulo. Magkaparis ang mga sulok, magkaisa ang layô. Equilateral, adj. [icuiláteral] Equilátero. Magkaisa ang sukat ng mga gilid ó hangga. Equilibrium, n. [icuilíbriæm] Equilibrio, contrapeso. Timbang, tatag. Equine, adj. [ícuin] Caballar. Nauukol sa kabayo. Equinox, n. [ícuinocs] Equinoccio. Panahong magkasinhabà ang araw at gabí. Equip, v. [icuíp] Equipar, pertrechar. Magsangkap ng mga kailangan. Equipage, n. [écuipedch] Equipaje. Sangkap na kailangan, daladalahan. Equipment, n. [icuípment] Equipaje, el acto de equipar. Pagsasangkup ng mga kailangang dalhin. Equipoise, n. [ícuipoiz] Equilibrio. Timbang. Equitable, adj. [écuitabl] Equitativo, justo. Tapat, matwid, walang dayà. Equity, n. [écuiti] Equidad, justicia. Karampatan, katwiran. Equivalence, n. [icuívalens] Equivalencia. Kahambing, kawangkì, katimbang, katumbas. Equivalent, adj. [icuívalent] Equivalente. Katumbas, katimbang, kahambing. Equivocal, adj. [icuívocal] Equívoco, ambiguo. Nakapagkakamali. Equivocate, v. [icuívoket] Equivocar. Mámalî, maligaw. Equivocation, n. [icuívokecion] Equívoco. Kamalian, mali, pagkaligaw. Era, n. [íra] Era. Panahon. Eradicate, v. [irádiket] Desarraigar, extirpar. Bunutin, lipulin. Eradication, n. [iradikécion] Extirpacion. Pagkabunot, pagkalipol. Erase, v. [irés] Borrar. Katkatin, pawiin, burahin. Eraser, n. [iréser] Raspador. Pangburá. Erasure, n. [irésiur] Raspadura. Katkat, burá. Ere, adv. & prep. [ir] Antes, mas, pronto, antes de. Bago, muna. Erect, adj. [iréct] Derecho, levantado hacia arriba. Patwid, patayô. Erect, v. [iréct] Erigir, establecer. Magtayo, magtatag. Erection, n. [iréccion] Ereccion, construccion. Pagtatayô. Erelong, adj. [irlóng] Antes de mucho. Hindî pa nalalaunan, hindî pa naluluwatan. Err, v. [ær] Vagar, errar, desviarse. Magkamalî, mámalî, málisyâ, máligaw. Errand, n. [érrand] Recado, mensaje. Pasabi, bilin, utos. Errant, adj. [érrant] Errante, vagabundo. Palaboy, hampas-lupà. Errata, n. [erráta] Erratas. Mga kamalian sa kathâ, aklat, sulat, ibp. Erratic, adj. [errátic] Errático, vagante, vagabundo. Layás, palakadlakad, palaboy, hampas-lupà. Erratum, n. [irrátum] Errata. Mga kamalian sa kathâ, aklat, sulat ibp. Erring, adj. [érring] Errado, errante. Námamalî, náliligaw. Erroneous, adj. [errónioes] Erroneo, falso. Malî, hindî tunay. Error, n. [érror] Error, yerro. Kamalian, kalisyaan. Erudite, adj. [ériudait] Erudito. Paham, pantas, marunong. Erudition, n. [eriudícioen] Erudicion, ciencia. Kapahamán, kapantasan, karunungan. Eruption, n. [irúpcioen] Erupcion. Silakbó, buga. Erysipelas, n. [erizípelas] Erisipela. Kulebra ó sakít sa balat. Escapade, n. [escapéd] Movimiento irregular de un caballo. Likót ó bisyo ng kabayo. Escape, v. [eskép] Escapar, huir. Tumaanan, tumakas. Escape, n. [eskép] Escapada, huida. Pagtataanan, pagtakas. Eschew, v. [eschiú] Huir, evitar. Lumayô, umilag. Escort, n. [éscort] Escolta. Abay, kumboy, bantay, kaakbay. Escort, v. [escórt] Escoltar, convoyar. Akbayan, samahan, ihatid. Escript, n. [escrípt] Cédula, escritura. Katibayan, kasulatán. Esculent, adj. & n. [éskiulent] Comestible. Mákakain; pagkain. Escutcheon, n. [eskiúchen] Escudo. Eskudo. Esoteric, adj. [esotéric] Secreto, misterioso. Lihim, mahiwagà. Esophagus, n. [esófagoes] Garganta. Lalamunan. Especial, adj. [espécial] Especial. Tangì, bukod-tangì. Espial, n. [espáial] Espía, observacion. Paniniktik. Espousals, n. [espáusals] Esponsales. Kasal. Espouse, v. [espáuz] Desposar. Magkasal; pakasal. Espy, v. [espái] Espiar, acechar. Maniktik, manubok. Essay, n. [esé] Ensayo. Pagsasanay. Essay, v. [esé] Ensayar, probar, tentar. Magsanay; tikman. Essence, n. [ésens] Esencia, perfume. Pabangó. Essential, adj. [eséncial] Esencial. Kailangan. Essential, n. [eséncial] Esencia. Ang kinakailangan. Establish, v. [estáblish] Establecer, fundar. Magtatag; itatag. Establishment, n. [estáblishment] Establecimiento; domicilio. Pagkakatatag; bahay. Estate, n. [estét] Estado; hacienda, bienes. Pag-aarì, lupang pag-aarì. Esteem, n. [estím] Estimacion, aprecio. Pagmamahal, pagpapahalagá. Esteem, v. [estím] Estimar, apreciar. Mahalín, pahalagahan. Estimable, adj. [estímabl] Estimable. Kagalang-galang, kapitapitagan. Estimate, n. [éstimet] Valuacion. Tasa, pahalagá, kurò. Estimate, v. [éstimet] Estimar, apreciar. Halagahan. Estimation, n. [estimecioen] Estimacion. Pitagan, galang. Estrange, v. [estréndch] Extrañar, apartar, enajenar. Manibago, kumatwâ, lumayô, umilag. Estrangement, n. [estréndchment] Enajenamiento; extrañeza, distancia. Kakatwà; layò, agwat. Estuary, n. [éschiueri] Brazo de mar. Wawà. Etch, v. [etch] Grabar al agua fuerte. Lumilok sa metal. Etching, n. [éching] Grabado hecho al agua fuerte. Paglilok sa metal. Eternal, adj. [itérnal] Eterno, inmortal. Magpakaylan man, walang hanggan. Eternally, adv. [itérnali] Eternamente. Sa tanang panahon, sa boong panahon. Eternity, n. [itérniti] Eternidad. Pagkakaylan man, pagkawalang hanggan. Ether, n. [ízær] Eter. Eter. Ethereal, adj. [izírial] Etéreo, celeste. Ukol sa langit. Ethiop, n. [íziop] Etiope, negro. Taga Etyopya, taong maitim. Etiquette, n. [étiket] Etiqueta. Etiketa, pagkikilos-mahal. Ettin, n. [etín] Gigante. Higante. Etymology, n. [etimólodchi] Etimología. Símulain ng mga salitâ. Eucharist, n. [iúcarist] Eucaristía. Pakinabang, kumunyon. Eulogize, v. [iúlodchaiz] Elogiar, aplaudir. Pumuri, magpaunlak. Eulogy, n. [iúlodchi] Elogio, alabanza. Papuri, paunlak. Eunuch, n. [iúnoc] Eunuco, capon. Bating, kapon. Euphemism, n. [iúfimizm] Eufemismo. Badyang pangpalubagloob. Euphonical, adj. [iufónikal] Eufónico. Hinggil sa pagkakatugmâ ng tinig. Euphony, n. [iúfoni] Eufonía. Ang pagkakatugmâ ng tinig. Europe, n. [iúrop] Europa. Europa. European, adj. [iurópian] Europeo. Nauukol sa Europa. European, n. [iurópian] Europeo. Taga Europa. Evacuate, v. [ivákiuet] Evacuar, desocupar. Lisan, lisanin, iwan. Evacuation, n. [ivakiuécioen] Evacuacion. Pag-alís. Evade, v. [ivéd] Evadir, huir, escapar. Umiwas, umilag, tumakas, tumaanan. Evanescence, n. [evanésens] Desaparecimiento. Pagkawalâ. Evanescent, adj. [evanésent] Imperceptible. Dî makita. Evangel, n. [ivándchel] Evangelio. Ebanhelyo, mabuting balità. Evangelic, adj. [ivandchélic] Evangélico. Nauukol sa ebanhelyo. Evangelical, adj. [ivandchélical] Evangélico. Nauukol sa ebanhelyo. Evangelist, n. [ivándchelist] Evangelista. Ebanhelista, taga-pangaral ng ebanhelyo. Evaporate, v. [iváporet] Evaporarse, disiparse. Sumuluwak, sumingaw. Evaporation, n. [ivaporécioen] Evaporacion, exalacion del vapor. Suluwak, singaw. Evasion, n. [ivécioen] Evasion, salida, escape, excusa. Pag-ilag, paglabas, pagtakas, dahilan. Evasive, adj. [ivésiv] Evasivo. Maiilagan. Eve, n. [iv] Tardecita; vispera. Takip-silim; bisperas. Even, adj. [iven] Llano, igual. Pantay, patag, yano, panay, pares. Even, adv. [íven] Aun, aun cuando. Bagaman, kahi't. Even, v. [iven] Igualar, allanar. Pantayin, patagin, panayin. Evening, n. [ívning] Noche; el anochecer. Gabí; takip-silim, pag-gabí. Event, n. [ivént] Evento, acontecimiento. Pangyayari, pagkakataon. Eventful, adj. [ivéntful] Lleno de acontecimientos. Puspós ng mga pangyayari. Eventual, adj. [ivénchiual] Eventual, fortuito. Nagkataon, hindî sinasadyâ. Eventuality, n. [ivenchiuáliti] Evantualidad. Pagkapangyari. Ever, adv. [évær] En cualquier tiempo, siempre. Kaylan man, palagì, lagì, parati, sa anomang panahon. Evergreen, n. [éværgrin] Siempre verde, siempreviva. Katakataká, siemprebibo. Everlasting, adj. [evoerlásting] Eterno, sempiterno. Magpakaylanman, walang hanggan, walang katapusan. Everlasting, n. [evoerlásting] Eternidad. Kawalang hanggan. Evermore, adv. [evoermor] Eternamente. Magpakaylanman. Every, adj. [éveri] Cada uno, cada una. Bawa't, twî. Every-body, n. [éveri-bódi] Cada uno, cada una. Bawa't tao; lahat ng tao. Every-day, adv. [éveri-day] Cada dia. Araw-araw, bawa't araw. Every-one, n. [éveri-uan] Cada uno, cada una. Bawa't isa, lahat. Everything, n. [éverizing] Cada cosa. Bawa't bagay, lahat ng bagay. Every-where, adv. [évoeri-juer] En ó por todas partes. Sa lahat ng dako. Eve-through, n. [ívzro] Canal de agua. Alulod. Evict, v. [ivíct] Despojar jurídicamente. Kamkamán ng pag-arì sa pamamagitan ng hukuman. Eviction, n. [iviccioen] Eviccion, despojo jurídico. Pagkamkam ng pag-aarì sa pamamagitan ng hukuman. Evidence, n. [évidens] Evidencia. Katotohanan, katunayan. Evidence, v. [évidens] Evidenciar. Patotohanan, patunayan. Evident, adj. [évident] Evidente, patente, notorio. Totoo, tunay; malinaw, maliwanag. Evil, adj. [ívl] Malo, depravado. Masamâ. Evil, n. [ívl] Maldad, mal. Kasamaan, samâ. Evil-doer, n. [ívl-dúoer] Malhechor. Manggagawà ng masamà, tulisan. Evilly, adv. [ívli] Malamente. May kasamaan. Evil-minded, adj. [ívl-manded] Malicioso, mal intencionado. May masamang akalà. Evil-Speaking, n. [ívl-spíking] Maledicencia, murmuracion. Masamang pangungusap, masakit na pananalitâ, takap. Evince, v. [ivíns] Probar, justificar. Patunayan, patotohanan. Evitable, adj. [évitabl] Evitable. Maiiwasan, maiilagan. Evoke, v. [ivóc] Evocar. Tumawag. Evolution, n. [evoliúcioen] Evolucion. Pagsulong. Evolve, v. [evólv] Desenvolver. Ilatag. Ewe, n. [iu] Oveja. Tupang babae. Ewer, n. [iúoer] Palancana, palangana. Kamaw, pasô, palangana. Exact, adj. [eksáct] Exacto, puntual, justo. Ganap, hustó, sukat, lubos. Exact, v. [eksáct] Exigir. Humingî, sumingil. Exaction, n. [eksáccien] Exaccion. Hingî, singíl. Exactitude, n. [eksáctitiud] Exactitud. Kaganapan, kalubusan. Exaggerate, v. [eksádcheret] Exagerar. Magpakalabis. Exaggeration, n. [eksádcherecien] Exageracion. Pagpapakalabis. Exalt, v. [ecsólt] Exaltar, elevar; alabar, realzar. Ibunyî purihin, parangalan. Exaltation, n. [ecsoltécien] Exaltacion, elevacion. Pagkabunyî, papuri, parangal. Examination, n. [eczaminécien] Examen. Paglilitis, pagsurì, pagsisiyasat, pag-uusisà. Examine, v. [eczámin] Examinar, escudriñar. Litisin, suriin, eksaminin, siyasatin, usisain. Example, n. [ecsámpl] Ejemplo, ejemplar. Halimbawà, uliran, mwestra. Exasperate, v. [eczásperet] Exasperar, irritar. Manggalit. Exasperation, n. [eczasperécion] Exasperacion, irritacion. Galit, poot. Excavate, v. [écscavet] Excavar. Humukay. Excavation, n. [ecscavécien] Excavacion. Hukay. Exceed, v. [ecsíd] Exceder, sobresalir. Humigít, lumagpas, lumabis, lumalò. Exceeding, adj. [ecsíding] Excesivo. Malabis, mahigít, lalò. Excel, v. [ecsél] Sobresalir, sobrepujar. Mátangì, lumagpas. Excellence, n. [écselens] Excelencia, preeminencia. Karangalan, dangal, kamahalan. Excellency, n. [écselensi] Excelencia, preeminencia. Karangalan, dangal, kamahalan. Excellent, adj. [écselent] Excelente, sobresaliente, primoroso. Mainam, maigi. Excelsior, adj. [ecsélsior] Excelso. Mataas na mataas. Except, conj. [ecsépt] Sino, á menos que. Kungdî, subalì, bagkus. Except, prep. [ecsépt] Excepto, á excepcion de. Maliban, liban na. Except, v. [ecsépt] Exceptuar, excluir. Itangì, ibukod. Exception, n. [ecsépcien] Excepcion. Bukod, pamumukod. Exceptional, adj. [ecsépcioenal] Excepcional. Namumukod, natatangì. Excess, n. [ecsés] Exceso. Kalabisán, kahigitan, labis. Excessive, adj. [ecsésiv] Excesivo. Malabis, higít. Exchange, n. [ecschéndch] Cambio. Palít, suklî. Exchange, v. [ecschéndch] Cambiar, trocar. Pumalit, magpalit, magsuklî. Exchangeable, adj. [ecschéndchebl] Cambiable. Náipapalit. Excise, n. [ecsáis] Sisa, derecho que se paga sobre los comestibles, etc.. Bwis, singil. Excise, v. [ecsáis] Sisar. Magpabwis. Exciseman, n. [ecsáizmen] Sisero. Mániningil ng bwis. Excision, n. [ecsídchen] Extirpacion. Paglipol, pagpawì. Excitability, n. [ecsaitabíliti] Excitabilidad. Sigla, kasiglahan. Excitable, adj. [ecsáitabl] Excitable. Masigla. Excite, v. [ecsáit] Excitar, estimular. Magbuyó, mag-udyok, pumukaw. Excitement, n. [ecsaitment] Estímulo, instigacion, conmocion. Pagbubuyo, pagpapasigla. Exciting, adj. [ecsáiting] Encitamiento. Masigla. Exclaim, v. [ecsclém] Exclamar. Bumulalás. Exclamation, n. [ecsclamécioen] Exclamacion. Bulalás. Exclamatory, adj. [ecsclámetori] Exclamatorio. Pabulalás. Exclude, v. [ecscliúd] Excluir, exceptuar. Ibukod, ihiwalay. Exclusion, n. [ecscliúsion] Exclusion. Pagbubukod, paghihiwalay. Exclusive, adj. [ecscliúsiv] Exclusivo. Nábubukod, náhihiwalay. Excommunicate, v. [ecscomiúniket] Excomulgar, anatematizar. Ekskumulgahin, ihiwalay sa iglesya. Excommunication, n. [ecscomiúnikecion] Excomunión, anatema. Pag-ekskumulgá, paghihiwalay sa iglesya. Excrement, n. [écscriment] Excremento. Tae, dumí. Excrete, v. [ecscrít] Excretar. Itae, idumí, ipalikod. Excretion, n. [ecscrícien] Excrecion. Pagtae, pagdumí, pagpalikod. Excruciate, v. [ecscriúciet] Atormentar. Magpahirap, magpasákit. Excruciation, n. [ecscriuciécion] Tormento. Pahirap, pasákit. Exculpate, v. [ecskálpet] Disculpar, excusar. Pawaláng sala, bigyang dahilan. Exculpation, n. [ecskalpécien] Disculpa. Pagpapawalang sala. Excursion, n. [ecscárcion] Excursion. Pagliliwaliw. Excursive, adj. [ecskársiv] Errante, vagante. Palakadlakad. Excuse, n. [ecskiús] Excusa. Paumanhin, dahilan. Excuse, v. [ecskiús] Excusar, dispensar. Magpaumanhin, magpawalang bahalà; dispensahin. Execrate, v. [écsicret] Execrar, maldecir. Manungayaw, lumait, manumpâ. Execration, n. [ecsicrécion] Execracion, maldicion. Tungayaw, lait, sumpâ. Execute, v. [écsikiut] Ejecutar; ajusticiar. Magsagawâ, gumanap, tumupad; bumitay, pumatay; gumanap ng kaparusahan. Executer, n. [écsikiuter] Ejecutar. Tagapagsagawâ, tagaganap, tagatupad. Execution, n. [ecsikiúcion] Ejecucion. Pagsasagawâ, pagganap; pagbitay. Executioner, n. [ecsekiúcioner] Ejecutor, verdugo. Tagabitay, berdugo, tagapatay. Executive, adj. [ecsékiutiv] Ejecutivo. Nauukol sa pagpapaganap. Executor, n. [ecsékiutor] Albacea, testamentario. Tagaganap ng hulíng bilin ó testamento ng namatay. Executress, n. [ecsékiutres] Executrix, n. [ecsékiutrics] Albacea, ejecutora. Babaing tagaganap ng huling bilin ng namatay. Exemplar, n. [ecsémplar] Ejemplar, modelo. Uliran, halimbawà, parisán, mwestra. Exemplary, adj. [ecsémpleri] Ejemplar. Uliran, dapat halintularan. Exemplification, n. [ecsemplifikécion] Ejemplificacion. Pakitang halimbawà, pagbibigay-uliran. Exemplify, v. [eksémplifai] Ejemplificar. Magbigay-ulirán. Exempt, adj. [eksémt] Exento, libre por privilegio. Kawalâ, layâ. Exempt, v. [eksémt] Exentar, libertar. Palayain, ihiwalay. Exemption, n. [eksémcion] Exencion. Layà. Exercise, n. [écsersaiz] Ejercicio, ensayo, práctica. Pagsasanay, paggawà, pagpapalakas ng katawan. Exercise, v. [éksersaiz] Ejercitar; hacer ejercicio; atarear. Magsanay, gumawâ, magpalakas ng katawan. Exert, v. [eczért] Esforzar, empeñarse por alguno. Magsikap, magpumilit. Exertion, n. [eczércion] Esfuerzo. Sikap. Exhalation, n. [ecsjalécion] Exhalacion. Hingá, singaw. Exhale, v. [ecsjél] Exhalar. Huminga. Exhaust, adj. [eczóst] Exhausto, apurado. Said, ubós; patâ. Exhaust, v. [eczóst] Apurar, agotar; cansar. Masaid, maubos; mapatâ. Exhaustion, n. [eczóscion] Agotamiento, extenuacion. Pagkasaid, pagkaubos; pagkapatâ. Exhibit, n. [eczíbit] Documento fehaciente presentado en un tribunal de justicia. Katibayang pinakasaksí sa paglilitis sa hukuman. Exhibit, v. [eczíbit] Exhibir, manifestar. Magtanghal, maghayag. Exhibition, n. [eczibícion] Exibicion; exposicion. Pagtatanghal, tanghalan. Exhibitor, n. [eczíbitor] Ostentador en público. Tagapagtanghal, tagapaghayag. Exhilarate, v. [eczíleret] Alegrar, causar alegría. Magpasayá, magbigay lugod. Exhilaration, n. [eczilerécion] Alegria, regocijo. Sayá, kasayahán, galak, kagalakan. Exhort, v. [eczórt] Exhortar. Mangusap, mangaral, humikayat. Exhortation, n. [eczortécion] Exhortacion. Pangungusap, pangaral, hikayat. Exhume, v. [ecsiúm] Exhumar, desenterrar. Hukaying mulî ang nálibing. Exhumation, n. [ecsiumécion] Exhumacion. Paghukay na mulî sa inilibing. Exigence, n. [écsidchens] Exigency, n. [écsidchensi] Exigencia, necesidad. Kailangan. Exigent, adj. [écsidchent] Urgente. Mádalian. Exile, n. [éczail] Destierro; desterrado. Pagkatapon, destierro; taong tapon. Exile, v. [éczail] Desterrar, deportar. Magtapon ó magdestierro ng taong hinatulan. Exist, v. [eczíst] Existir. Lumagì, mamarati. Existence, n. [eczístens] Existencia. Pamamalagì, pamamarati; ang tinatangkilik, bagay na mayroon. Exit, n. [écsit] Salida. Lábasan. Exodus, n. [écsodoes] Éxodo. Pag-alis; eksodo ó ikalawang aklat ng Biblia. Exonerate, v. [eczóneret] Exonerar. Magpatawad, maggawad ng kapatawaran. Exoneration, n. [eczonerécien] Exoneracion. Pagpapatawad. Exorbitance, n. [eczórbitans] Exorbitancia, exceso, enormidad. Kalabisan. Exorbitant, adj. [ecsórbitant] Exorbitante, excesivo, enorme. Malabis. Exordium, n. [eczórdioem] Exordio. Simulâ, pasimulâ. Exotic, adj. [eczótic] Exótico, extrangero. Galing sa ibang lupain. Expand, v. [ecspánd] Extender, dilatar. Lumwag, lumawak, kumalat. Expanse, n. [ecspáns] Expansion, dilatacion. Lawig, lawak. Expansion, n. [ecspánsion] Expansion. Kalawakan. Expatiate, n. [ecspéciet] Espaciarse, difundirse. Mangalat, lumaganap. Expatriate, v. [ecspétriet] Expatriar. Itapon sa ibang lupain. Expatriation, n. [ecspetriécion] Expatriacion. Pagtatapon sa ibang lupain. Expect, v. [ecspéct] Esperar, aguardar. Maghintay, magantabay, umasa. Expectance, n. [ecspéctans] Expectacion, esperanza. Paghihintay, pag-asa. Expectant, n. [ecspéctant] Esperador. Ang naghihintay, ang umaasa. Expectation, n. [ecspectécion] Expectacion, esperanza, mira, perspectiva. Pag-asa; hintay; hangad. Expectorate, v. [ecspéctoret] Expectorar. Dumahak. Expectoration, n. [ecspectorécion] Expectoracion. Dahak. Expediency, n. [ecspídiensi] Propiedad; conveniencia, oportunidad. Pag-aarì; karapatan, pagsasamantalâ. Expedient, adj. [ecspídient] Oportuno, conveniente. Marapat, masasamantalâ. Expedite, v. [écspidait] Expedir, despachar. Lutasin, ipadalá. Expedition, n. [ecspidícien] Expedicion. Paglalakbay. Expeditious, adj. [ecspidícioes] Pronto, expedito. Madalî, matulin, tuloy-tuloy. Expel, v. [ecspél] Expeler. Ilabas, iwaksí, Ibukod. Expend, v. [ecspénd] Expender, gastar, desembolsar. Gumugol, maggugol, gumastá, magdukot. Expenditure, n [ecspéndichiur] Gasto, desembolso. Gugol, nagugol, ginastá. Expense, n. [ecspéns] Expensas, gasto. Gugol, gastos. Expensive, adj. [ecspénsiv] Costoso. Magugol, mahal. Experience, n. [ecspíriens] Experiencia, práctica. Kasanayán. Experience, v. [ecspíriens] Experimentar. Magsanay; magmalas; sumubok; tikman. Experienced, adj. [ecspíriensd] Experimentado. Sanáy. Experiment, n. [ecspériment] Experimento. Pagsubok. Experiment, v. [ecspériment] Experimentar. Sumubok; subukin. Expert, adj. [ecspért] Experto, habil. Bihasá, sanáy, may-kaya. Expertness, n. [ecspértnes] Habilidad. Kakayahan. Expiate, v. [écspiet] Expiar, borrar un delito. Magtakip ng kasalanan. Expiation, n. [ecspiécion] Expiacion. Pagtatakip ng kasalanan. Expiration, n. [ecspirécion] Expiracion; muerte. Pagkatapos, pagkalutas; pagkalagot ng hininga, pagkamatay. Expire, v. [ecspáir] Expirar; morir. Matapos, malutas; malagot ang hininga, mamatay. Explain, v. [ecsplén] Explanar, explicar. Magpaliwanag. Explanation, n. [ecsplenécion] Explanación, explicacion. Paliwanag. Explanatory, adj. [ecsplenétori] Explicativo. Nakapagpapaliwanag. Expletive, adj. [écsplitiv] Expletivo. Badyang ginagamit sa lalong ikáliliwanag ng pananalitâ. Explicable, adj. [écsplikebl] Explicable. Náipaliliwanag. Explication, n. [ecsplikécion] Explicacion. Paliwanag, paaninaw. Explicit, adj. [ecsplísit] Explícito, claro. Maliwanag, malinaw. Explode, v. [ecsplód] Disparar con estallido. Pumutok, sumilakbó, bumugá. Exploit, n. [ecsplóit] Hazaña, hecho heróico. Gawang kabayanihan, pamamayani. Exploration, n. [ecsplorécion] Exploracion. Pagtuklas. Explore, v. [ecsplór] Explorar; averiguar; sondear. Tumuklas; sumiyasat; tumarok. Explosion, n. [ecsplócion] Explosion. Pagputok. Explosive, adj. [ecsplósiv] Explosivo. Pumuputok, nagpapanambulat. Export, n. [écsport] Exportacion. Paglalabas ó pagpapadalá ng kalakal sa ibang lupâin; kalakal na ipinadadala sa ibang lupâin. Export, v. [ecspórt] Exportar. Maglabás ó magpadalá ng kalakal sa ibang lupain. Exportation, n. [ecsportécion] Exportacion. Paglalabas ó pagpapadalá ng kalakal sa ibang lupain; kalakal na ipinadadalá sa ibang lupain. Expose, v. [ecspóz] Exponer, manifestar; arriesgar, poner en peligro. Magtanghal, maghayag; magpahayag, mangahas, sumapanganib. Exposition, n. [ecspozícion] Exposicion. Pagtatanghal; tanghalan. Expostulate, v. [ecspóschiulet] Debatir, contender. Makipagtalo, makipaglaban. Expostulation, n. [ecsposchiulécion] Debate; disputa. Pagtatalo. Exposure, n. [ecspósiur] Situacion peligrosa; exposicion. Panganyayà, paghantad. Expound, v. [ecspáund] Exponer, interpretar. Ihayag, ipaliwanag. Express, adj. [ecsprés] Expreso, claro. Hayag, maliwanag. Express, v. [ecsprés] Expresar; exprimir. Ihayag; katasín. Expression, n. [ecsprécion] Expresion. Pamamahayag, pananalitâ, pangungunsap. Expulsion, n. [ecspélcion] Expulsion. Pagpapalayas, pagtataboy. Expunge, v. [ecspóndch] Borrar, cancelar. Pawiin, katkatin, burahín. Exquisite, adj. [écscuizit] Exquisito, excelente, raro. Mainam, maigi. Exquisiteness, n. [écscuizitnes] Primor, excelencia, perfeccion. Inam, buti, igi. Extant, adj. [écstant] Estante, existente. Namamalagì. Extempore, adv. [ecstémpori] De repente, de improviso. Pagdaka, karakaraka, pagkwan. Extend, v. [ecsténd] Extender, amplificar. Pahabain, unatin, banatin. Extended, adj. [ecsténded] Extendido. Unát, banát. Extension, n. [ecsténcion] Extension. Lawig, lawak. Extensive, adj. [ecsténsiv] Extenso, dilatado. Malawig, malawak. Extent, n. [ecstént] Extencion. Lakí. Extenuate, v. [ecsténiuet] Extenuar, enflaquecer. Manghinà, pumayat, mangayayat. Extenuation, n. [ecsténiuecion] Extenuacion, mitigacion. Pangangayayat, panghihinà. Exterior, adj. [ecstírior] Exterior. Labas. Exterior, n. [ecstírior] El exterior. Ang labas. Exterminate, v. [ecstérminet] Exterminar, desarraigar. Lipulin, hugutin. Extermination, n. [ecsterminécion] Exterminacion, extirpacion. Paglipol. External, adj. [ecstérnal] Externo. Labás. Extinct, adj. [ecstínct] Extinto, apagado. Patay, kupás. Extinction, n. [ecstínccion] Extincion. Kamatayan. Extinguish, v. [ecstíngüish] Extinguir. Pumawì, lumipol, pumuksâ; sumugpô. Extirpate, v. [ecstírpet] Extirpar, desarraigar. Bumunot, humugot. Extirpation, n. [ecstirpécion] Extirpacion. Pagbunot, paghugot. Extol, v. [ecstól] Alabar, exaltar. Purihin, ibunyî. Extort, v. [ecstórt] Sacar por fuerza alguna cosa, adquirir por violencia. Mangagaw, manggahasà, maniil, manulisan. Extortion, n. [ecstórcion] Extorsion. Pang-aagaw, panggagahasà, paniniil, panunulisan. Extortionate, adj. [ecstórcienet] Violento. Marahas. Extra, adj. [écstra] Extra. Bukod; dagdag. Extract, n. [écstract] Extracto. Katás; hango, kuha. Extract, v. [ecstráct] Extraer; extractar. Hugutin, hangûin, katasín, pigâin. Extraction, n. [ecstráccion] Extraccion. Paghugot, paghangò. Extraordinary, adj. [ecstraórdineri] Extraordinario, singular. Bukod-tangì, kakaibá. Extravagance, n. [ecstrávagans] Extravagancia. Kakatwâ. Extravagant, adj. [ecstrávagant] Extravagante. Katwâ, kakatwâ. Extreme, adj. [ecstrím] Extremo; sumo, supremo. Dulo, hanggan; napakainam, nápakaigi. Extreme, n. [ecstrím] Extremo; el grado mas elevado de alguna cosa. Dulo, wakás, hanggá. Extremity, n. [ecstrémiti] Extremidad. Dulo, hanggá. Extricate, v. [écstriket] Desembarazar, desenredar. Guluhin, gusutin, ligaligin. Extrication, n. [ecstrikécion] Desembarazo. Guló, gusot, ligalig. Extuberance, n. [ecstiúberans] Protuberancia. Pagkauslî ng butó ó ng anomang bahagi ng katawan. Exuberance, n. [ecsiúberans] Exuberancia, suma abundancia. Lubhang kasaganaan, dî kawasang kasaganaan. Exuberant, adj. [ecsiúberant] Exuberante, abundantisimo. Lubhang saganà, nápaka saganà. Exude, v. [ecsiúd] Sudar, exhalar. Magpawis. Exult, v. [eczólt] Regocijarse. Magalak, matwâ ng dî masayod. Exultation, n. [eczaltécion] Regocijo, sumo placer. Galak, dî masayod na kasayahan. Eye, n. [ai] Ojo. Matá. Eye, v. [ai] Ojear, observar. Sundan ng paningin. Eye-ball, n. [áibol] Niña del ojo. Itim ng matá. Eye-brow, n. [áibro] Ceja. Kilay. Eye-glance, n. [áiglans] Ojeada. Sulyap. Eye glass, n. [áiglas] Anteojo. Salamin sa matá. Eye-lash, n. [áilash] Pestaña. Pilík-matá. Eyeless, n. [áiles] Ciego. Bulág. Eyelet, n. [áilet] Resquicio. Lwâ ng matá. Eyelid, n. [áilid] Párpado. Talukap ng mata. Eyeshot, n. [áishot] Ojeada. Sulyáp. Eye-sight, n. [áisait] Vista. Paningín. Eye-sore, n. [áisor] Mal de ojos. Sakít ng mata. Eye-tooth, n. [áituz] Colmillo. Pangil. Eye-wink, n. [áiwink] Guiñada. Kindat. Eye-witness, n. [ái-uitnes] Testigo ocular. Saksíng nakakita. Eyot, n. [áiet] Isleta. Munting pulò. Eyry, n. [éri] Nido de ave de rapiña. Pugad ng ibong mangdadagit. F Fa, n. [fa] Fa, cuarta voz de la música. Fa [tinig ng tugtugin at áwitin]. Fable, n. [fébl] Fábula. Kathang salaysay, kwento. Fable, v. [fébl] Fingir, mentir; contar fábulas. Magkunwâ, magsinungaling; magkwento, magsalaysay ng kathâ lamang. Fabric, n. [fábric] Fábrica; manufactura. Págawaan ng anomang may halò; yaring may halong anoman. Fabricate, v. [fábriket] Fabricar. Gumawà ng anomang may halò. Fabrication, n. [fabrikécien] Fabricacion. Paggawâ ng anomang may halò. Fabulist, n. [fábiulist] Fabulista. Mapaggawâ ng mga kathang salaysay. Fabulous, adj. [fábiulæs] Fabuloso. Matalinghagà, talinghagà. Facade, n. [facéd] Fachada, frontispicio de un edificio. Harapan ng bahay ó gusalì. Face, n. [fez] Cara, rostro, faz; fachada, frente; aspecto, apariencia; haz, superficie de una cosa. Mukhâ; harapán; karaagan; pagmumukhâ, anyô; balat ó bagay na kita sa labás. Face, v. [fez] Hacer frente; encarar. Humarap; iharap; magpamukhâ; ipamukhâ. Faced, adj. [fesd] Lo que tiene cara. May mukhâ. Facet, n. [facét] Faceta. Munting mukhâ. Facetious, adj. [fasícioes] Chistoso, jocoso, gracioso. Masayá, palabirô, mapagpatawá. Facile, adj. [fácil] Fácil, docil, afable. Magaan, mapagpayag, masunurin. Facilitate, v. [fasílitet] Facilitar. Pagaanin; husayin. Facilitation, n. [fasilitécioen] Facilitacion. Pagpapagaan; paghusay. Facility, n. [fasíliti] Facilidad, ligereza. Kadalian, kagaanan. Facing, n. [fésing] Paramento, cubierta. Balot, aporo. Facing, adv. [fésing] En frente. Sa tapat. Facsimile, n. [facsímili] Facsímile, copia exacta. Hugis, wangis; parisán. Fact, n. [fact] Hecho, realidad. Bagay, pangyayari, katotohanan. Faction, n. [fáccioen] Faccion; disensión. Pangkat, pulutong; káalitan, guló. Factionist, n. [faccioenist] El que excita facciones. Ang mahilig sa pagpapangkat-pangkat. Factious, adj. [fáccioes] Faccioso, sedicioso. Mang-uupat, mang-gugulo. Factitious, adj. [factícioes] Facticio. Paimbabaw, kunwâ, hindî totoo. Factor, n. [fáctor] Factor. Isang bagay na katungkulan. Factory, n. [fáctori] Factoría, fábrica. Págawaan. Faculty, n. [fákulti] Facultad, poder. Kapangyarihan. Fad, n. [fad] Fruslería, niñería. Likot, kalikutan. Fade, v. [feíd] Decaer, marchitar, fallecer. Kumupas, malantá, mayumì. Faded, adj. [féded] Decaido, marchitado. Kupás, lantá, yumì. Fag, n. [fag] Trabajador; esclavo; nudo en el paño. Manggagawà; alipin; buhol sa panyô. Fag, v. [fag] Desfallecer ó desmayarse de cansancio; trabajar demasiado por otro. Mapatâ, mapagal; mapatâ sa pamamanginoon. Fag-end, n. [fag-énd] Cadillos. Mga dulo ng bilachá sa habi ó hinabi. Fagot, n. [fágot] Haz ó gavilla de leña. Bigkis, talì. Fail, n. [feíl] Omision; desgracia. Ligtâ, kaligtaan, kulang, kakulangan, kapahamakan, kapariwaraan. Fail, v. [feíl] Faltar, omitir, descuidar; perderse, perecer. Magkulang, máligtaan, mawalâ, maparam. Failing, n. [féling] Falta, defecto. Kakulangan, kapintasan. Failure, n. [féliur] Falta, culpa; descuido; quiebra, bancarrota. Kakulangan, sala, lisyâ; pagkakalingat; pagkabagsak ng pagkabuhay, pagkalugi. Fain, adj. [feín] Alegre, contento. Masayâ, galák. Fain, adv. [feín] Gustosamente, de buena gana, con gusto. Ng boong lugod. Fain, v. [feín] Desear ardientemente. Magmithî. Faint, adj. [feint] Lánguido, cobarde. Lupaypay, dwag. Faint, v. [feínt] Desmayar, acobardar. Manglupaypay, madwag. Faint-hearted, adj. [fént-jarted] Cobarde, medroso, pusilánime. Dwag, matatakutin, hamak. Fainting, n. [fénting] Deliquio, desmayo. Panglulupaypay, pagkawalâ ng malay. Faintness, n. [féntnes] Languidez, flaqueza. Kahinaan ng loob. Fair, adj. [feír] Hermoso, bello. Magandá, marikít. Fair, adv. [feír] Cortesmente, con buena armonia. Ng boong galang, nababagay, naakmâ. Fair, n. [feír] Belleza, hermosura. Gandá, kagandahan; dikít, karikitan. Fairing, adj. [féring] Ferias. Perya, tyangi. Fairness, n. [feírnes] Belleza, hermosura. Ganda, dikit, kagandahan, karikitan. Fairy, adj. [féri] Lo que pertenece á los duendes. Nauukol sa dwende. Fairy, n. [féri] Duende. Dwende. Faith, n. [fez] Fe, creencia. Pananampalataya. Faithful, adj. [fézful] Fiel, leal. Tapat, tapat-na-loob. Faithfully, adv. [fézfuli] Fielmente. Na may pagtatapat, ng boong pagtatapat. Faithfulnes, n. [fézfulnes] Fidelidad, lealtad. Pagtatapat. Faithless, adj. [fézles] Infiel. Taksil, lilo, sukáb. Falcon, n. [fókoen] Halcon. Lawin. Fall, v. [fol] Caida; decadencia; catarata, salto. Bagsak, lagpak, takpak, laglag, pagkahulog; pagkabagsak; bugsô. Fall, v. [fol] Caer. Mahulog, bumagsak, lumagpak, tumakpak, malaglag; bumugsô. Fallacious, adj. [faléchæs] Falaz, fraudulento. Manghihibò, magdarayà. Fallacy, n. [fálaci] Falacia, engaño. Hibò, dayà. Fallen, adj. [fólen] Caido. Hulóg, laglag, bagsak. Fallibility, n. [falibíliti] Falibilidad. Pagkakábulà, hindî layâ sa pagkakamalî. Fallible, adj. [fálibl] Falible. Nagkakabulà, saklaw ng pagkakámalî. Falling-sickness, n. [fóling-síknes] Epilepsia. Himatay. Fallow, adj. [faló] Cultivable. Áraruhin. Fallow, n. [faló] Tierra que descansa. Lupang áraruhin. Fallowness, n. [fálones] Esterilidad de algun terreno. Kabasalan. False, adj. [fols] Falso, pérfido, engañoso. Sinungaling, hindî totoo, bulaan, magdarayà. Falsehood, n. [fólsjud] Falsedad, engaño. Kasinungalingan, karayaan, walang katotohanan. Falsify, v. [fólsifai] Falsificar. Palsipikahin, dayain. Falsity, n. [fólsiti] Falsedad, mentira. Dayà, hwad, kasinungalingan, kabulaanan. Falter, v. [fólter] Tartamudear; faltar. Umutal-utál, magago; magkulang. Faltering, n. [fóltering] Debilidad, defecto. Panghihinà, kapansanan. Fame, n. [feím] Fama, renombre. Kabantugan, kagitingan. Fame, v. [feím] Afamar, divulgar. Magbansag, mamansag. Famed, adj. [femd] Afamado, renombrado. Bantog, bansag, magiting. Familiar, adj. [famíliar] Familiar, comun, ordinario. Karaniwan. Familiar, n. [famíliar] Amigo íntimo. Kási, katoto, kasamasama, kalaguyò. Familiarity, n. [familiariti] Familiaridad. Pagkakilala, pagkatalastas, pagkakasi, pagkasanay. Familiarize, v. [famíliaraiz] Familiarizar. Pagsanayan, kilalanin. Family, n. [fémili] Familia. Pamilya, sangbahayan, kasangbahay, angkan, mag-anak. Famine, n. [fémin] Hambre, carestía. Kagutóm, kasalatan. Famish, v. [fámish] Hambrear, morirse de hambre. Manglatâ sa gutom; mamatay sa gutom. Famous, adj. [fémes] Famoso, afamado. Bantog, bansag, magiting. Fan, n. [fæn] Abanico; aventador. Paypay, pamaypay, abaniko, pangpahangin. Fan, v. [fæn] Abanicar; aventar. Magpaypay, mag-abaniko; mag-pahangin. Fanatic, adj. [fanátic] Fanático. Bulag na paniniwalà, bulag na pagkatig, pikítmatang sikap. Fanaticism, n. [fanátizism] Fanatismo. Kabulagan sa paniniwalà. Fanciful, adj. [fénsiful] Imaginativo, caprichoso. Gúnitain, malíng hakà. Fancy, n. [fénsi] Fantasía, imaginacion. Guniguní, hakà. Fancy, v. [fénsi] Imaginar, fantasear. Máguníguní, máisip, máwarì. Fancy-articles, n. [fénsi-ártikls] Novedades, moda. Mga bagong bagay, ang námomoda, moda. Fancy-ball, n. [fénsi-bol] Baile de máscaras. Sáyawan na nangakabalatkayô. Fang, n. [fang] Colmillo. Pangil. Fantastic, adj. [fantástic] Fantástico. Guníguní, warì, bungangisip, panaginip. Far, adj. [far] Lejano, distante. Malayò. Far, adv. [far] Lejos. Malayò. Farce, n. [fars] Farsa. Komedya, palabás, kathâkathâ, birò. Farcical, adj. [fársical] Burlesco. Katawátawá. Fare, n. [fær] Pasaje, paga, ajuste, comida; viaje. Pasahe, upa, bayad; pagkain; paglalakbay. Fare, v. [fær] Viajar. Maglakbay. Fare-well, int. & n. [féruel] A Dios; despedida. Paalam. Farm, n. [farm] Heredad, sementera. Lupang pag-aarì, bukid, lupang bungkalin. Farm, v. [farm] Cultivar, dar á la tierra las labores que son necesarias para que fructifique. Magsaka, magbukid, bumukid, lumináng. Farmer, n. [fármer] Labrador. Magsasaka. Farming, n. [farming] Labranza, agricultura. Pagsasaka. Farm-yard, n. [farm-yard] Corral. Looban na may pananim. Farrier, n. [fárrier] Herrador. Mangbabakal sa paa ng kabayo. Farrago, n. [farrégo] Farrago, broza. Mga bagay na walang kabuluhan, mga bagay na tapon. Farrow, n. [fárro] Lechigada de puercos. Kawan ng biik. Farrow, v. [fárro] Parrir la puerca ó marrana. Manganak ang inahíng baboy. Farther, adj. [fárdzer] Mas lejos. Lalong malayò. Farther, adv. [fárdzer] Mas lejos, mas adelante. Malayò pa, sa dakó roon. Farthest, adj. [fárdzest] Lo mas lejos. Kálayulayuan. Fascinate, v. [fásinet] Fascinar, encantar. Dayain ang paningin; manghalina, mangganyak ng kalooban. Fascination, n. [fasinécioen] Fascinacion, encanto. Pagdarayà ng paningin, panggaganyak ng kalooban. Fashion, n. [fácioen] Forma; moda, uso. Anyô, tabas, yarì; moda, ugalì, kaugalian, asal. Fashion, v. [fácioen] Formar, amoldar, adaptar; hacer ó formar alguna cosa á la moda. Mag-anyô, yumarì ó tumabas ng ayon sa kaugalian. Fashionable, adj. [fácioenabl] Hecho á la moda. Naaayon sa moda ó kaugalian. Fast, adj. [fast] Firme, fuerte, estable; veloz, pronto. Matatág, matibay; madalî, matulin. Fast, n. [fast] Ayuno. Ayuno, kulasyon. Fast, v. [fast] Ayunar. Mag-ayuno, magkulasyon. Fast-day, n. [fást-dey] Dia de ayuno. Kaarawan ng pag-aayuno ó pagkukulasyon. Fasten, v. [fásn] Afirmar, asegurar, fijar. Magtatag, maglapat; pagtibayin, ikapit na maigi. Faster, n. [fastoer] Ayunador. Mapag-ayuno. Fastidious, adj. [fastidioes] Fastidioso, desdeñoso. Nakayayamot, nakakaabala. Fastness, n. [fástnes] Firmeza, solidez. Tibay, katibayan. Fat, adj. [fat] Gordo, pingüe. Matabâ. Fat, n. [fat] Gordura, grasa. Tabâ. Fat, v. [fat] Engordar [se]. Magpatabâ. Fatal, adj. [fétal] Fatal, funesto. Nakamamatay, nakasasawî. Fatalism, n. [fétalizm] Fatalismo. Kamatayan, kasawian. Fatality, n. [fetáliti] Fatalidad. Kasawian. Fate, n. [feít] Suerte, destino. Kapalaran, palad. Fated, adj. [féted] Lo que está decretado por los hados. Talagá. Father, n. [fádzer] Padre. Amá, magulang. Fatherhood, n. [fádzerjud] Paternidad. Pagkaamá. Father-in-law, n. [fádzer-in-lo] Suegro. Byenang lalake. Fatherland, n. [fádzerlend] Patria. Lupang kinámulatan, lupang tinubuan. Fatherless, n. [fádzerles] Huérfano de padre. Ulila sa amá. Fatherly, adj. [fádzerli] Paternal. Sa ama, nauukol sa amá. Fathom, n. [fázoem] Braza. Dipa, sangdipá. Fathom, v. [fázoem] Medir por brazo; sondear. Dipahín; tarukín. Fathomless, n. [fázoemles] Insondable. Dî matarok. Fatigue, n. [fatíg] Fatiga, cansancio. Pagod, pagal, patâ, kapaguran, kapagalan. Fatigue, v. [fatíg] Fatigar, cansar. Pagurin, pagalín, patâin. Fatling, n. [fátling] Cebón, animal que se ceba para comer. Pátabain. Fatness, n. [fátnes] Gordura. Tabâ, katabaan. Fatten, v. [fátn] Cebar, engordar; engrosarse. Magpatabâ, patabâin; tumabâ. Fatty, adj. [fáti] Untoso, craso, pingüe. Matabâ. Faucet, n. [fócet] Espita, canilla para sacar licor de un tonel ó cuba. Gripo. Fatuity, n. [fatiuíti] Fatuidad, simpleza. Kamusmusan. Fatuous, adj. [fátiuoes] Fatuo, insensato, tonto. Musmos, hangal, ungas. Fat-witted, adj. [fát-uited] Torpe, pesado. Mabagal, makupad. Fault, n. [folt] Falta, culpa; delito, defecto. Kakulangan, sala, kasalanan, kamalian, kasiraan. Faultless, n. [fóltles] Perfecto, sin falta. Walang kulang, walang malî, walang sala. Faulty, adj. [fólti] Culpable, defectuoso. May kamalian, may kapintasan, may sala. Favour, n. [févor] Favor, beneficio. Kalingà, lingap, utang na loob. Favour, v. [févor] Favorecer, proteger. Kalingain, lingapin, tignan, tangkilikin. Favourable, adj. [févorabl] Favorable, propicio. Sang-ayon, naaayon. Favourite, adj. [févorit] Favorecido. Itinatangì. Favourite, n. [févorit] Favorito. Minamahal. Fawn, n. [fon] Adulacion servil y baja. Panunuyâ, kunwang papuri. Fawn, v. [fon] Adular servilmente. Manuyâ, mamurì ng pakunwâ. Fay, v. [fe] Escarabotear, ajustar una pieza con otra. Magdugtong, mag-ugpong, magsugpon. Fealty, n. [fíalti] Homenaje, lealtad. Pagtatapat ng loob, tapat na loob. Fear, n. [fiár] Miedo, temor. Takot, katakutan. Fear, v. [fiár] Temer; amedrentar. Matakot; tumakot, manakot. Fearful, adj. [fiérful] Medroso, temeroso, tímido;. Takót, matatakutín. Fearless, adj. [fiérles] Intrépido, audaz, sin temor. Matapang, malakas ang loob, walang takot. Feasibility, n. [fizibíliti] Capacidad de poderse ejecutar alguna cosa. Kakayahan sa pagsasagawâ ng anoman. Feasible, adj. [físibl] Factible, practicable, hacedero. Magágawâ, máisasagawâ, sukat mangyari. Feast, n. [fist] Fiesta, festin, banquete. Pistá, kasayahan, pígingan, handaán. Feast, v. [fist] Festejar. Magpista, magsayá, magpigíng, maghandâ. Feat, n. [fit] Hecho, accion, hazaña. Gawâ, yarì, kagagawán. Feather, n. [fédzer] Pluma. Balahibo ng mga hayop na may pakpak. Feather, v. [fédzer] Emplumar. Tumubò ang balahibo. Featherly, adj. [fédzerli] Plumado; semejante á las plumas. Mabalahibo, tila balahibo. Feature, n. [fichoer] Semblante, rostro. Anyô, pagmumukhâ. February, n. [fébriueri] Febrero. Pebrero. Fecund, adj. [fíkoend] Fecundo, prolífico. Saganà. Fecundity, n. [fikánditi] Fecundidad, fertilidad. Kasaganaan. Federal, adj. [fédoeral] Federal. Nauukol sa pagkakasunduan ó pagkakayarian sa pagsasamahan. Federalist, n. [fedéralist] Federalista. Kasundô, kayarî. Federation, n. [fedoerécioen] Confederacion. Kásunduan, káyarian. Fee, n. [fi] Derechos, paga, salario, recompensa. Upa, kaupahan, bayad, gantí. Fee, v. [fi] Pagar, recompensar. Umupa, magbayad, gumantí. Feeble, adj. [fíbl] Debil. Mahinà. Feebleness, n. [fíblnes] Debilidad. Kahinaan, hinà. Feed, n. [fid] Comida, alimentacion. Pagkain, pangpatid-gutom. Feed, v. [fid] Nutrir, alimentar; pacer. Magpakain; magpanginain, magpasabsab. Feel, n. [fil] Tacto, sentido. Hipò, kapâ, damdam. Feel, v. [fil] Sentir; palpar. Makáramdam, humipò, kumapâ. Feeling, n. [fíling] Tacto, sensibilidad. Damdam, pakiramdam. Feet, n. [fit] Pies. Mga paa. Feign, v. [feín] Fingir, disimular. Magkunwâ, magbalatkayô, magpaimbabaw. Feigned, adj. [fend] Fingido, disimulado. Paimbabaw, pakunwâ. Feint, n. [fent] Ficcion, disimulacion. Paimbabaw, pakunwâ. Felicitate, v. [filísitet] Felicitar. Magpahayag ng maligayang pagkakataon sa kanino man. Felicitous, adj. [filísitoes] Feliz, bienaventurado. Mapalad, maginghawa. Felicitation, n. [filisitécioen] Felicitacion, congratulacion, enhorabuena. Pakikilugod. Felicity, n. [filísiti] Felicidad. Kaligayahan, kaluguran. Feline, adj. [fílain] Gatuno; gatecto. Nauukol sa pusà. Fell, adj. [fel] Cruel, bárbaro. Mabagsik, pusóng. Fell, n. [fel] Cuero, piel, pellejo. Katad, balat. Fell, v. [fel] Derribar, derrocar. Magbwal, magbaksak. Fellow, n. [félo] Compañero, camarada. Kasama. Fellow-citizen, n. [félo-sítizen] Conciudadano, compatriota. Kababayan, kalupain. Fellow-creature, n. [félo-críchoer] Prójimo. Kapwà, kapwà-tao. Fellow-feeling, n. [félo-fíling] Simpatía. Pakikidamdam, pakikilugod. Fellowship, n. [féloship] Compañía, sociedad. Samahán, pakikisama. Felly, n. [fél-li] Pina de una rueda. Pangkamá ng gulong. Felon, adj. [féloen] Cruel, traidor. Mabaksik, sukab, taksil. Felon, n. [féloen] Reo de algun delito capital. Taong swail, pusóng, tampalasan. Felonious, adj. [filónioes] Malvado, perverso, pérfido. Tampalasan, sukab. Felony, n. [féloni] Felonía. Katampalasanan, kasukabán, kaswailan. Felt, n. [felt] Fieltro. Pieltro. Female, adj. [fímel] Femenino. Nauukol sa babae. Female, n. [fímel] Hembra. Babae. Feminine, adj. [féminin] Femenino. Nauukol sa babae. Femoral, adj. [fémoral] Femoral. Nauukol sa baywang. Fen, n. [fen] Marjal, pantano. Latían. Fence, n. [fens] Cerco, cercamiento. Bakod, bakuran. Fence, v. [fens] Cercar, avallar un sitio. Magbakod, bakuran. Fenceless, adj. [fénsles] Lo que no está cercado. Walang bakod. Fencing, n. [fénsing] Esgrima. Esgrima. Fend, v. [fend] Rechazar. Iwaksí. Fender, n. [fénder] Barandilla que se pone delante del hogar. Barandilya sa harapan ng bahay. Ferine, adj. [fírain] Ferino; cruel. Mailap, ukol sa gubat; mabangis. Ferment, n. [férment] Fermento. Panghilab, pangpahilab. Fermentation, n. [foermentécioen] Fermentacion. Paghilab, pagbabago. Ferocious, adj. [firócioes] Feroz, fiero, salvaje. Mabangis, mabaksík. Ferociousness, n. [firócioesnes] Ferocidad, crueldad. Kabangisan, kabaksikan. Ferocity, n. [firósiti] Ferocidad, braveza. Kabangisan, katapangan. Ferret, v. [fér-ret] Rastrear, averiguar. Bakasin, pag-usigin. Ferriage, n. [fér-riedch] Barcaje. Bayad sa tawid. Ferry, n. [fér-ri] Vadeo. Táwiran. Ferryman, n. [férriman] Barquero. Mánanawid. Fertile, adj. [fértil] Fértil, fecundo. Matabâ, mabunga, malagô. Fertileness, n. [fértilnes] Fertilidad, abundancia. Tabâ, lagô. Fertility, n. [foertíliti] Fertilidad, abundancia. Katabaan ng lupà, kalaguan. Fertilize, v. [fértilaiz] Fertilizar. Magpatabâ ng lupà. Ferule, n. [fériul] Férula, palmeta. Buklod, ikog. Fervency, n. [férvensi] Fervor, ardor; zelo. Ningas ng loob, pusok ng loob; sikap. Fervent, adj. [férvent] Ferviente, fervoroso. Maningas na nais, masikap. Fervid, adj. [férvid] Ardiente, fogoso. Mapusok. Fervor, n. [férvoer] Fervor, zelo. Ningas ng kalooban, kapusukan. Festal, adj. [féstal] Festivo. Masayà, twâ. Fester, v. [féstoer] Enconarse, inflamarse. Magnanà. Festival, adj. [féstival] Festivo. Nauukol sa pistá; masayá. Festival, n. [féstival] Fiesta. Pistá, pistahan. Festive, adj. [féstiv] Festivo, alegre. Masayá, maligayà. Festivity, n. [festíviti] Festividad, alegria. Kasayahan, kaligayahan. Festoon, n. [festún] Feston. Gayak na bulaklak, bunga ó dahon. Fetch, n. [fetch] Estratagema, artificio. Laláng, hibò. Fetch, v. [fetch] Ir á traer algo. Magdalá. Fetid, adj. [fétid] Fétido, hediondo. Mabahò, masamang amoy. Fetidness, n. [fétidnes] Fetor, hedor. Bahò, amoy na masamâ. Fetlock, n. [fétloc] Cerneja. Balahibo sa paa ng kabayo. Fetters, n. [fétoers] Grillos. Damal, pangpangaw. Fetter, v. [fétoer] Engrillar, encadenar. Suutan ng damal, ipangaw. Feud, n. [fiud] Riña, contienda, disension. Away, káalitan, pagkakasirâ, pagkakagalít. Feudal, adj. [fiúdal] Feudal. Nauukol sa away ó káalitan. Fever, n. [fíver] Fiebre, calentura. Lagnat; sinat. Feverish, adj. [fíverish] Febricitante, calenturiento. Malalagnatin. Few, adj. [fiú] Poco. Kaontî. Fewel, n. [fiú-el] Leña. Panggatong. Fiancee, n. [fiansé] Mujer comprometida. Babaing komprometida ó may nápaoohan na. Fiat, n. [fáiat] Mandato absoluto. Utos na mahigpit. Fib, n. [fib] Mentira, embuste. Kasinungalingan, kabulaanan, kahambugan. Fib, v. [fib] Mentir. Magsinungalíng, magbulaan, maghambog. Fiber, n. [fáiber] Fibra, hebra. Hiblá, hilachá. Fibrous, adj. [fáibræs] Fibroso. Mahiblá, mahilachá. Fibula, n. [fíbiula] Hebilla, bucle. Hebilya. Fickle, adj. [fikl] Voluble, inconstante, mudable, variable. Sálawahan, alisagâ. Fickleness, n. [fíklnes] Volubilidad, inconstancia. Pagkásalawahan, kaalisagaan. Fiction, n. [fíccion] Ficcion, invencion. Kathâ, hindî totoo. Fictitious, adj. [fictíciæs] Ficticio, fingido. Hindî totoo. Fiddle, n. [fídl] Violin. Byolín. Fiddle, v. [fídl] Tocar el violin. Tumugtog ng byolín. Fiddler, n. [fídler] Violinista. Byolinista. Fiddlestick, n. [fídlstic] Arco de violin. Arkó ng byolín. Fiddlestring, n. [fídlstring] Cuerda de violin. Kwerdas ng byolín. Fidelity, n. [fidéliti] Fidelidad, lealtad. Pagtatapat. Fidget, n. [fídchet] Agitacion inquieta, afan. Kabalisahan. Fidget, v. [fídchet] Inquietarse. Mabalisá. Fidgety, adj. [fídcheti] Inquieto, impaciente. Balisá, dî mápakali. Fie, int. [fai] ¡Vaya!. ¡Ayan! Fief, n. [fif] Feudo. Bagay ó dangal na tinaglay dahil sa paglilingkod. Field, n. [fild] Campo, campiña, campaña. Bukid, bukiran, parang, larangan. Field piece, n. [fíld-piz] Artillería de campaña. Kanyong may gulong. Fiend, n. [find] Enemigo, demonio. Kaaway, kalaban; demonyo. Fiendish, adj. [fíndish] Ente infernal, demoniaco. Parang demonyo. Fierce, adj. [firz] Fiero, feroz. Mabangis, mabagsik. Fierceness, n. [fírznes] Fiereza, ferocidad. Kabangisan, kabagsikan. Fieriness, n. [fáierines] Ardor, fogosidad. Init, pusok. Fiery, adj. [fáieri] Igneo; fogoso, colérico. Nag-aapoy, maningas, malyab; mapusok, magagalitín. Fife, n. [fáif] Pífano. Pito. Fifteen, adj. [fíftin] Quince. Labíng limá. Fifteenth, adj. [fíftinz] Décimo quinto, quinceno. Ika labing limá. Fifth, adj. [fifz] Quinto. Ika lima. Fifthly, adv. [fífzli] En quinto lugar. Sa ika lima. Fiftieth, adj. [fíftiez] Quincuagésimo. Ika limang pû. Fifty, adj. [fífti] Cincuenta. Limang pû. Fig, n. [fig] Higo. Igos. Fight, n. [fáit] Pelea, batalla, combate. Babag, away, labanán. Fight, v. [fáit] Pelear, batallar, combatir. Umaway, bumabag, lumaban. Figurative, adj. [fíguiurativ] Figurativo. Pinakahwad, pinakaanyô, pinakawangis, halimbawà. Figure, n. [fíguiur] Figura, forma exterior. Anyô, hichura, banhay. Figure, v. [fíguiur] Figurar. Magbanhay, gumuhit ng anyô. Filament, n. [fílament] Filamento. Hiblá, hilachá. Filch, v. [filch] Ratear. Manekas, mangdukot. Filcher, n. [fílcher] Ratero. Tekas, mangdudukot. File, n. [fáil] Lima. Kikil. File, v. [fáil] Limar, pulir. Kumikil; kikilin. Filial, adj. [fílial] Filial. Nauukol sa anák. Filibuster, n. [filíbuster] Pirata, filibustero. Tulisang dagat. Filigree, n. [fíligri] Filigrana. Sangkap ng gintô ó pilak. Filings, n. [fáilings] Limaduras. Pinagkikilan. Fill, n. [fil] Hartura, abundancia. Kabusugan, kasaganaan. Fill, v. [fil] Llenar, henchir. Pumunô, bumusog; punuin, busugin. Fillet, n. [fílet] Venda, tira ó faja. Basahang panalì. Fillip, n. [fílip] Papirote. Pitík. Fillip, v. [fílip] Dar un papirote. Pumitík. Filly, n. [fíli] Potranca. Inahing kabayo. Film, n. [film] Película. Película, balat na manípis. Filter, n. [fílter] Filtro. Salaán. Filter, v. [filter] Filtrar. Sumalà. Filth, n. [filz] Inmundicia, porquería, basura, suciedad. Dumí, sukal. Filthiness, n. [fílzines] Inmundicia, suciedad. Dumí, sukal. Filthy, adj. [fílzi] Sucio. Marumí, masukal. Filtrate, v. [fíltret] Filtrar. Sumalà. Filtration, n. [filtrecion] Filtracion. Pagsalà. Fin, n. [fin] Aleta [de pez]. Palikpik. Final, adj. [fáinal] Final, último. Hulí, katapusan, wakas. Finally, adv. [fáinali] Finalmente, últimamente. Sa hulí, sa katapusan, sa wakas. Finance, n. [fáinans] Renta, hacienda pública. Salaping bayan, pamimilak. Financial, adj. [fináncial] Lo que pertenece á las rentas ó hacienda pública. Nauukol sa pamimilak. Financier, n. [finansír] Hacendista ó financiero. Tagapamahalà ng salapî ng bayan. Find, n. [fáind] Encontrar, hallar; buscar. Makasumpong, makatuklas; humanap. Finding, n. [fáinding] Descubrimiento, invencion. Pagkasumpong, pagkatuklas. Fine, adj. [fáin] Fino, lindo, bello. Mainam; maganda, marikit. Fine, n. [fáin] Multa. Multá. Fine, v. [fáin] Multar. Multahan. Fine-draw, v. [fáin-dro] Zurcir. Magsursí. Finely, adv. [fáinli] Primorosamente, con elegancia. May kainaman, may kagandahan. Finery, n. [fáinri] Primor; adorno, atavío. Dilag; gayak; sangkap. Finger, n. [fínguer] Dedo. Dalirì. Finger, v. [fínguer] Tocar, manosear. Hipuin, lamasin. Finger-stall, n. [fínguer-stol] Dedal. Didal. Finical, adj. [fínical] Delicado, afectado. Mainam. Finish, n. [fínish] Acabamiento, colmo. Katapusan, wakas, kayarian. Finish, v. [fínish] Acabar, terminar, concluir. Tumapos, yumarì. Finite, adj. [fáinait] Finito. May katapusan, may hanggá. Finless, adj. [fínles] Sin aletas. Walang palikpik. Finny, adj. [fíni] Armado de aletas. May palikpik. Fire, n. [fáir] Fuego, lumbre; incendio. Apoy; súnog. Fire, v. [fáir] Quemar, inflamar. Sumunog; magpaningas ng apoy. Firearms, n. [fáirarms] Armas de fuego. Baríl, almás na pumuputok. Fire-brand, n. [fáir-brand] Tizon ó tea. Suligì, sulô, sigsig. Firecrackers, n. [fáircrakers] Cohetes. Kwites, rebentador. Firefly, n. [fáirflay] Luciérnaga. Alitaptap. Fireman, n. [fáirman] Bombero. Bombero. Firepan, n. [fáirpan] Brasera. Sisidlan ng baga. Fireplace, n. [fáirplæs] Fogon. Pinag-apuyan. Firescreen, n. [fáirscrin] Pantalla de chimenea. Takip ng chimenea. Fireside, n. [fáirsaid] Fogon de chimenea. Pugón ng chimenea. Firewood, n. [fáirwud] Leña para la lumbre. Panggatong, kahoy. Fireworks, n. [fáirwercs] Fuegos artificiales. Kwites, putok. Firing, n. [fáiring] Descarga. Pagpapaputók. Firm, adj. [firm] Firme, estable. Matibay, matatag. Firm, n. [firm] Firma. Samahan sa anomang hanap-buhay. Firmament, n. [firmament] Firmamento. Langit. Firmness, n. [fírmnes] Firmeza, estabilidad. Katibayan, tibay, tatag. First, adj. [first] Primero. Una. First, adv. [first] En primer lugar. Panguna. First-born, n. [fírst-born] Primógenito. Panganay. First cousin, n. [fírst-kauzn] Primo hermano. Pinsang buô. Firstling, n. [fírstling] Primógenito, primerizo. Panganay. First-rate, adj. [fírst-ret] Superior, de primera clase. Panguna, kábutibutihan. Fiscal, adj. [físcal] Perteneciente á la tesorería pública. Nauukol sa ingatáng-yaman ng bayan. Fiscal, n. [físcal] El erario ó tesorería pública. Ingatáng-yaman ng bayan. Fish, n. [fish] Pez; pescado. Isdâ. Fish, v. [fish] Pescar. Mangisdâ. Fish-bone, n. [físh-bon] Espina. Tinik [ng isdâ]. Fish corral, n. [fish córral] Corrales de pescar. Baklad. Fisher, n. [físher] Pescador. Mángingisdâ. Fisher-man, n. [físher-man] Pescador. Mángingisdâ. Fishery, n. [físheri] Pesca, pesquera. Pangingisdâ. Fish-hook, n. [físhjuk] Anzuelo. Tagâ, kiba. Fishing, n. [físhing] Pesca. Pangingisdâ. Fishing-net, n. [físhing-net] Red de pescar. Lambat na pangisdâ. Fishing-rod, n. [físhing-rod] Caña de pescar. Bingwit, pamingwit. Fish-market, n. [físh-market] Pescadería. Pámilihan ng isdâ. Fishmonger, n. [fishmónguer] Pescadero. Mánininda ng isdâ. Fishpond, n. [físhpond] Estanque de peces. Pálakihan ng isdâ. Fish-spear, n. [físh-spir] Arpon, dardo. Salapang. Fissile, adj. [físil] Hendible. Báakin. Fissure, n. [físiur] Grieta, hendidura. Laháng, byak; bitak. Fist, n. [fist] Puño. Dakot. Fisticuffs, n. [fístikafs] Puñadas, riña de puñadas. Suntok; suntukan. Fit, adj. [fit] Conveniente, aprestado; apto, idóneo. Bagay, tapat, marapat; kaya, ukol. Fit, v. [fit] Ajustar, adaptar. Ilapat, iakmâ, ibagay. Fitful, adj. [fitful] Alternado con paroxismos. Hindî pulos, hindî panáy. Fitting, adj. [fíting] Conveniente, justo. Bagay, akmâ. Five, adj. [fáiv] Cinco. Limá. Fivefold, adj. [fáivfold] Quíntuplo. Makálima. Fix, v. [fics] Fijar, establecer. Ilapat, iakma, pagtibayin. Fixedly, adv. [fícsedli] Fijamente, ciertamente. Matibay, lapat. Fixedness, n. [fícsednes] Firmeza, estabilidad. Tibay. Fixture, n. [ficschur] Los trastos ó muebles fijos de una casa. Mga kasangkapang di nakikilos sa bahay. Fizz, n. [fiz] Silbido. Sutsot, sipol; haging. Fizz, v. [fiz] Silbar. Sumutsot; humaging. Flabby, adj. [flábi] Blando, flojo. Malambot, mahinà. Flag, n. [flag] Bandera. Watawat, bandilà. Flag, v. [flag] Pender, colgar. Maglaylay. Flagellate, v. [fládchelæt] Azotar. Humampas, bumugbog. Flagon, n. [flágon] Frasco. Praskó, sisidlang ng alak ó nomang malagnaw. Flagrancy, n. [flégransi] Calor, ardor. Init, kainitan, ningas. Flagrant, adj. [flégrant] Ardiente, flagrante. Mainit, maningas. Flag-ship, n. [flag-ship] Navío almirante. Sasakyan ng almirante. Flag staff, n. [flág staf] El asta de la bandera. Palo ng watawat. Flail, n. [fleíl] Mayal. Pangbayó, pangdikdik. Flake, n. [flec] Copo; lámina, centella. Patak ng niebe; alipato. Flambeau, n. [flámbo] Antorcha, anchon. Suligì, sulô. Flame, n. [fleím] Llama. Liyab, ningas. Flame, v. [flem] Arder, brillar. Magliyab, magningas. Flange, n. [flandch] Liston. Liston. Flank, n. [flanc] Flanco. Tagiliran, gilid. Flank, v. [flanc] Atacar el flanco de un ejército. Lusubin ang dakong gilid ng isang hukbó. Flannel, n. [flánel] Franela. Pranela. Flap, n. [flap] Falda. Saya. Flapjack, n. [flápdchec] Especie de fruta de sarten. Bibingka. Flare, v. [flær] Lucir, brillar, relampaguear. Numingning, kumislap. Flash, n. [flash] Relampago, llamarada. Kislap, kisap, ningas, siklab. Flash, v. [flash] Relampaguear, brillar con un brillo pasajero. Kumislap, kumisap. Flashy, adj. [fláshi] Superficial; insulso. Makintab, makinis. Flask, n. [flasc] Frasco. Praskó. Flat, adj. [flat] Llano, liso. Makinis, pantay. Flat, n. [flat] Llanura, plano. Dakong patag; piso ng bahay ó gusalì. Flat, v. [flat] Allanar, poner llana la superficie de alguna cosa. Patagin, pantayin. Flatness, n. [flátnes] Llanura, lisura. Kapatagan, kakinisan. Flatten, n. [flátn] Allanar. Pantayin, patagin. Flatter, v. [fláter] Adular, lisonjear. Manuyâ, mamuri ng paimbabaw. Flattery, n. [fláteri] Adulacion, lisonja. Tuyâ, papuring paimbabaw. Flatulency, n. [flátiulensi] Flatulancia, ventosidad. Usog, hangin sa loob ng katawan. Flaunt, v. [flant] Pavonearse. Maghambog. Flautist, n. [flótist] Flautista. Plautista. Flavor, n. [flévor] Sabor ó gusto suave y delicado de alguna cosa, sainete; fragancia. Lasa, lasap; bango. Flavor, v. [flévor] Dar un olor suave; condimentar. Pasarapin ang amoy; pasarapin ang lasa. Flaw, n. [flo] Resquebradura, hendedura; falta, tacha. Ligasgas, lamat, lahang, gwang, baak. Flaw, v. [flo] Rajar, hender. Lumahang, bumaak. Flawless, adj. [flóles] Sin defecto. Walang kapintasan. Flax, n. [flacs] Lino. Lino. Flay, v. [fle] Desollar, descortezar. Talupan, alisan ng balat. Flea, n. [fli] Pulga. Purgás. Flea-bite, n. [flí-báit] Picadura de pulga. Kagat ng purgás. Fleck, n. [flec] Mancha. Manchá, dungis, bakat. Fleck, v. [flec] Manchar. Manchahan. Fledge, v. [fledch] Enplumecer. Tubuan ng balahibo. Flee, n. [fli] Huir, escapar. Tumakas, tumaanan. Fleece, n. [fliz] Vellon. Balahibo ng tupa. Fleece, v. [fliz] Esquilar; desnudar, despojar. Gupitan ng balahibo ang tupa; hubaran, kamkaman. Fleecy, adj. [flízi] Lanudo. Malana, mabalahibo ng tupa. Fleer, n. [flir] Burla, mueca. Uyam, alipustâ, tuyâ. Fleer, v. [flir] Burlar, mofar. Uyamin, alipustâin, tuyâin. Fleet, adj. [flit] Veloz, lijero. Matulin, maliksí. Fleet, n. [flit] Escuadra, flota. Hukbong dagat; pulutong ng mga sasakyang dagat. Fleeting, n. [flíting] Pasajero; fugitivo. Sakáy; taanán. Fleetness, n. [flítnes] Velocidad, ligereza. Tulin, liksí. Flesh, n. [flesh] Carne. Laman; karne. Fleshless, adj. [fléshles] Descarnado, flaco. Walang lamán, payat. Fleshy, adj. [fléshi] Carnoso. Malamán. Flexibility, n. [flecsibíliti] Flexibilidad. Kalambutan. Flexible, adj. [flécsibl] Flexible. Malambot, sunodsunuran. Flexion, n. [fléccion] Flexión, corvadura. Hapay, hilig. Flick, v. [flic] Hurtar con ligereza. Umumít. Flicker, v. [flíker] Aletear, fluctuar. Pumagakpak, pumagaspas. Flier, n. [flaiær] Fugitivo. Taanán. Flight, n. [fláit] Huida, fuga. Pagtakas, pagtataanan. Flighty, adj. [fláiti] Veloz, acelerado. Matulin, maliksí. Flimsy, adj. [flímzi] Débil, fútil. Marupok, mahunâ. Flinch, v. [flinch] Desistir, retirarse. Umurong, umudlót. Fling, n. [fling] Tiro. Hilagpos, ilandang. Fling, v. [fling] Arrojar, tirar, lanzar. Magpahilagpos, magpailandang. Flint, n. [flint] Pedernal. Batong pinkian. Flinty, adj. [flínti] Empedernido, inexorable. Matigas na matigas. Flip, n. [flip] Una bebida hecha con cerveza, aguardiente y azúcar. Serbesa na may halong aguardiente at asukal. Flippancy, n. [flípansi] Petulancia. Kawalán ng galang. Flippant, adj. [flípant] Petulante, locuaz. Walang galang, masalitâ, masatsat. Flipper, n. [flíper] Aleta. Palikpik. Flirt, n. [flirt] Mueca, burla; movimento lijero; coqueta. Birò; kilos na pabiglâ; landî, kirí. Flirt, v. [flirt] Mofar; proceder con lijereza; coquetear. Magbirô; gumawâ ng pabiglâbiglâ; lumandî, kumirí. Flirtation, n. [flirtécion] Movimiento lijero; vanidad; coquetería. Kilos na pabiglâbiglâ; kalayawan; kalandian, kakirihan. Flit, v. [flit] Volar, huir; aletear. Lumipad, tumakas; pumagaspas, humagibis. Flitch, n. [flitch] Hoja de tocino. Tosino. Flitting, n. [flíting] Ofensa, injuria. Pagkalapastangan. Float, n. [flot] Cosa que flota. Anomang lutáng. Float, v. [flot] Flotar. Lumutang. Floating-bridge, n. [flóting-bridch] Ponton. Punton. Flock, n. [floc] Manada, rebaño; gentío. Kawan, kaban; pulutong, bunton ng tao, karamihan ng tao. Flock, v. [floc] Congregarse, atroparse. Magpipisan, magtitipon. Floe, n. [flo] Carámbano. Bugal na yelo na lumulutang. Flog, v. [flog] Azotar. Humampas, pumalô. Flood, n. [flad] Inundacion. Bahâ, apaw na tubig. Flood, v. [flad] Inundar. Bumahâ, umapaw ang tubig. Floor, n. [fluár] Pavimiento, suelo, piso. Lapag, sahig; piso ng bahay ó gusalì. Floor, v. [fluár] Echar suelo ó piso á algun aposento. Magsahig. Flooring, n. [flóring] Suelo, piso. Sahig, lapag. Flop, v. [flop] Aletear. Humagibis. Floral, adj. [floral] Floral. Nauukol sa bulaklak. Floret, n. [flóret] Florecilla. Munting bulaklak. Florid, adj. [flórid] Florido. Mabulaklak. Florist, n. [flórist] Florista. Mánininda ng bulaklak. Floss-silk, n. [flós-silc] Seda floja. Sutlâ. Flossy, adj. [flósi] Blando como la seda. Malambot na parang sutlâ. Flotage, n. [flótedch] Flotante. Lutáng. Flotilla, n. [flotíla] Flotilla. Pulutong ng mga munting sasakyan sa tubig. Flounce, n. [fláuns] Flueco; cairel. Plekos; kairel. Flounce, v. [fláuns] Revolcarse en agua ó cieno. Maglamaw. Flounder, n. [fláunder] Acedía. Kitang. Flounder, v. [fláunder] Patear, brincar. Magtataráng, maglulundag. Flour, n. [fláur] Harina. Harina. Flourish, n. [flaúrish] Vigor, belleza, floreo. Pamumukadkad; gandá ng pananalitâ. Flourish, v. [flaúrish] Florecer; florear. Mamulaklak, mamukadkad; manalitâ ng marikít. Flout, n. [fláut] Mofa, burla. Gagad, tukso. Flout, v. [fláut] Mofar, burlarse. Manggagad, manuksó. Flow, n. [flo] Creciente de la marea; flujo. Lakí ng tubig; agos. Flow, v. [flo] Crecer la marea; fluir, manar. Lumakí ang tubig; umagos. Flower, n. [fláuer] Flor. Bulaklak. Flower, v. [fláuer] Florecer. Mamulaklak, bumulaklak. Flower-bed, n. [fláuer-bed] Cuadro [en un jardin]. Pitak ng halamanan. Flower-girl, n. [fláuer-guerl] Florera. Dalagang nagbibilí ng bulaklak. Floweret, n. [fláueret] Florecilla. Munting bulaklak. Flower-pot, n. [fláuer-pot] Tiesto de flores. Pasô ng halaman. Flowery, adj. [fláueri] Flórido. Mabulaklak. Fluctuate, v. [flúcchiuet] Fluctuar. Maanod. Fluctuation, n. [flúcchiuecion] Fluctuacion. Pagkaanod. Flue, n. [fliú] Cañon ó campana de chimenea. Páasuhan, pálabasan ng usok. Fluency, n. [fliúensi] Fluidez. Dulas, gaan. Fluent, adj. [fliúent] Fluente, facil. Madulas, magaan. Fluid, adj. [fluíd] Fluido. Tunáw, lusaw. Fluid, n. [flúid] Fluido. Anomang tunáw ó lusaw. Fluidity, n. [flúiditi] Fluidez. Kalusawán. Flume, n. [fliúm] Canal de agua. Paágusan ng tubig. Flunkey, n. [flánki] Lacayo. Lakayo ó kasiping ng kuchero sa piskante. Flurry, n. [flérri] Ráfaga; agitacion, conmocion. Kislap; baklá, kilíg. Flurry, v. [flérri] Confundir, alarmar. Lumitó, bumaklá. Flush, n. [flash] Rubor, flujo rápido. Pamumulá [sa kahihiyan ó kagitlaanan]; bugsô. Flush, v. [flash] Ponerse colorado; fluir con violencia. Mamulá; bumugsô. Fluster, n. [fláster] Impulso repentino. Simbuyo. Fluster, v. [fláster] Confundir, atropellar. Tuligin, basag-uluhin. Flute, n. [fliút] Flauta. Plauta. Flutist, n. [fliútist] Flautista. Plautista. Flutter, n. [flatter] Confusion, agitacion. Kalituhan, kabalisahan. Flutter, v. [flatter] Turbar, desordenar. Gumulo, lumitó. Fluvial, adj. [flúvial] Fluvial. Nauukol sa ilog. Flux, n. [flacs] Excremento. Tae, dumí. Flux, v. [flacs] Fundir, derritir. Magbubó, tumunaw. Fly, n. [flay] Mosca. Langaw. Fly, v. [flai] Volar. Lumipad. Foal, v. [fol] Parir una yegua ó una burra. Manganak (ang kabayo). Foam, n. [fom] Espuma. Bulâ. Foam, v. [fom] Espumar. Bumulâ. Foamy, adj. [fómi] Espumoso. Mabulâ. Fob, n. [fob] Faltriquera, bolsa de reloj. Bulsá ng relós sa salawal. Fob, v. [fob] Engañar, defraudar. Magdayà, dumayà. Fodder, n. [fódder] Forraje. Pagkain ng kabayo. Foe, n. [fo] Enemigo, antagonista, adversario. Kalaban, kaaway, katalo. Fog, n. [fog] Niebla. Ulap na hamog. Fog, v. [fog] Oscurecer. Mag-ulap. Foggy, adj. [fógui] Nebuloso. Maulap. Foh, int. [fo] Quita alla!. Súl-ol, sulong! Foible, n. [fóibl] Debilidad, parte flaca. Hinà, kapintasan. Foil, n. [fóil] Desventaja, desgracia. Kapariwaraan, kapahamakan. Foil, v. [fóil] Vencer, rendir. Tumalo, magpasukò. Fold, n. [fold] Doblez, pliegue. Tiklop, lupì, pileges, kulubot, kunot. Fold, v. [fold] Doblar, plegar. Tumiklop, lumupì, magpileges. Folder, n. [fólder] Plegador, doblador. Tagalupì, tagatiklop, taga pileges. Foliage, n. [fóliedch] Follaje, frondosidad. Yabong, kayabungan. Folio, n. [fólio] Libro ó tomo en folio. Dahon ng aklat na tálaan. Folk, n. [fok] Gente. Tao. Follow, v. [fólo] Seguirse, suceder; resultar. Sumunod, bumuntot; mangyari. Follower, n. [fóloer] Seguidor; secuaz, partidario. Mánununod; kakampí, kábig, kampon. Folly, n. [fóli] Tontería, locura, bovería. Kahangalan, kaululan, kaungasán. Foment, v. [fomént] Fomentar, dar baños calientes. Magpomento, dampian ng basahang inilubog sa mainit na tubig. Fomentation, n. [fomentécion] Fomentacion. Pagpopomento; pagdadampî ng basahang lubog sa mainit na tubig. Fond, adj. [fond] Apasionado. Mawilihín, maibigín. Fondle, v. [fóndl] Mimar. Maglambing, maglanyos. Fondling, n. [fóndling] Favorito, querido. Ang minamahal, ang nililingap. Font, n. [font] Pila bautismal. Sisidlan ng tubig na pangbinyag. Food, n. [fud] Alimento, comida. Pagkain, pagkabuhay. Fool, n. [ful] Bobo, tonto. Hangal, ungás, gunggong, tangá. Fool, v. [ful] Tontear. Mang-ungás. Foolery, n. [fúleri] Tontería, bobería. Kahangalán, kaungasán, kagunggungan, katangahán. Foolhardiness, n. [fuljárdines] Temeridad, locura. Simbuyó ng kalooban, kahibangan. Foolhardy, adj. [fúljardi] Temerario. Sukat katakutan, hibáng. Foolish, adj. [fúlish] Bobo, tonto, necio. Ungás, gunggong, hangal. Foolishness, n. [fúlishnes] Tontería, necedad. Kaungasan, kagunggungan, kahangalan. Foolscap, n. [fúlskap] Papel grifon. Papel de barba. Foot, n. [fut] Pie. Paa. Foot, v. [fut] Ir á pie. Lumakad. Foot ball, n. [fút bol] Pelota. Sipà, pilota. Foot board, n. [fut bord] Estribo. Estribo. Foot fall, n. [fút fol] Pisado. Yabag ng paa. Foot note, n. [fút not] Anotacion debajo de un escrito. Talâ na paliwanag sa ibabâ ng isang sulat ó kasulatan. Foot pace, n. [fút pez] Paso lento. Hakbang na dahandahan, hakban na banayad. Foot path, n. [fút paz] Senda, vereda. Bakás, landas. Foot pavement, n. [fút pévment] Acera. Asera, dáanan ng tao sa tabí ng daan. Foot print, n. [fút print] Huella, pisada. Bakas ng paa, niyapakan ng paa. Foot step, n. [fút step] Vestigio, huella. Bakas ng paa. Foot way, n. [fút uæy] Sendero. Landas. Fop, n. [fop] Petimetre. Mapagmarikít, mapagmakisig. Foppery, n. [fópæri] Afectacion extravagante en el vestir. Pagmamarikít, pagmamakisig. Foppish, adj. [fópish] Vanidoso. Malayaw, makisig. For, conj. [for] Porque, por cuanto. Sapagka't; dahil sa. For, prep. [for] Por, á causa de, para. Sa, kay. Forage, n. [fóredch] Forraje. Pagkain ng kabayo. Forbear, v. [forbír] Cesar, detenerse, abstenerse. Tumigil, humintô, magpigil. Forbearance, n. [forbírans] Paciencia, abstinencia. Pagtitiis, pagpipigil. Forbid, v. [forbíd] Prohibir, vedar. Magbawal, magbawà. Force, n. [fors] Fuerza, poder; violencia. Lakas, tibay, kapangyarihan, dahas. Force, v. [fors] Forzar, esforzar, violentar. Pumilit, dumahas, gumahasà. Forceps, n. [fórseps] Fórseps. Sipit. Forcible, adj. [fórsibl] Fuerte, poderoso. Malakas, makapangyarihan. Ford, n. [ford] Vado. Táwiran. Ford, v. [ford] Vadear. Tumawid. Fordable, adj. [fórdabl] Vadeable. Natatawid. Fore, adj. [for] Anterior. Dati, datihan. Fore, adv. [for] Delante, antes. Nauuna, una. Forebode, v. [forbód] Pronosticar, presagiar. Humulà, kutugán. Foreboding, n. [forbóding] Presentimiento, presagio. Kutog, kabá ng dibdib, guníguní. Forecast, n. [fórcast] Prevision; proyecto. Paghahandâ, pag-agap; panukalà. Forecast, v. [forcást] Prever; proyectar. Umagap, maghandâ; magpanukalà. Foreclose, v. [forclóz] Cerrar, impedir el paso. Sarhan; hadlangan. Foreclosure, n. [forclósiur] Exclusion; impedimento. Pagtitiwalag; kadahilanan. Foredoom, v. [fordúm] Predestinar. Hulaan. Forefather, n. [fórfadzer] Abuelo, antecesor. Nunò, kanunuan. Forefend, v. [forfénd] Prohibir, vedar. Magbawà, magbawal. Forefinger, n. [fórfinguær] Índice. Hintuturò. Forego, v. [forgó] Anteceder, preceder. Manguña, máuna. Foregone, adj. [forgón] Pasado. Lipás, nakaraan. Foreground, n. [forgráund] Delantera. Lupà sa harapán. Forehead, n. [fórjed] Frente. Noo. Foreign, adj. [fórin] Extrangero; extraño. Taga ibang lupain; iba. Foreigner, n. [fóriner] Extrangero, forastero. Taga ibang lupain. Foreknow, v. [fornú] Prever, conocer de antemano. Agaping malaman. Foreman, n. [fórman] Presidente del jurado; primer mancebo de las tiendas ó talleres. Pangulo ng inangpalán; katiwalà. Foremast, n. [fórmast] Palo de trinquete. Náuunang palo sa sasakyan. Foremost, adj. [fórmost] Delantero. Káunaunahan. Forenoon, n. [fórnun] La mañana. Umaga. Forerank, n. [fór-rank] Primera fila. Pangunang hanáy. Fore sail, n. [fór sel] Trinquete. Layag sa unahan. Foresee, v. [forsí] Prever. Mákinikinita. Foreshow, n. [forshó] Presagio. Guníguní. Forest, n. [fórest] Bosque, selva. Gubat, kagubatan. Forestall, v. [forstól] Anticipar, prevenir. Umagap, umuna. Forester, n. [fórester] Guardabosque. Tanod-gubat. Foretell, v. [fortél] Predecir. Humulà. Forethought, n. [fórzot] Premeditacion. Ang balak kapagkaraka. Foretoken, n. [fortókn] Pronóstico. Sintomas ó tandâ na nagbabadya na mangyayari. Foretooth, n. [fortúz] Diente delantero. Ngipin sa harap. Foretop, n. [fórtap] Tupé. Buhok sa noo. Foreward, n. [fórward] Vanguardia. Tanod sa unahan. Forewarn, v. [foruórn] Prevenir de antemano. Pangunahan, bumalà, pagbalaan. Forfeit, n. [fórfit] Multa, confiscacion. Multá; lágak, sanglá. Forfeit, v. [fórfit] Pagar una multa; confiscar. Magmultá; kumamkam. Forge, n. [fordch] Fragua, fábrica de metales. Pandayan. Forge, v. [fordch] Forjar, contrahacer. Humuwad, pumaris, kumathâ, pumalsipiká. Forget, v. [forguét] Olvidar. Makalimot. Forgetful, adj. [forguétful] Olvidadizo. Malilimutín. Forgive, v. [forguív] Perdonar. Magpatawad. Forgiveness, n. [forguívnes] Perdon. Patawad. Fork, n. [forc] Tenedor. Tenedor, pangdurò, sipit, panipit. Forlorn, adj. [forlórn] Abandonado, desamparado. Tapon, pinabayaan. Form, n. [form] Forma, figura; modelo. Anyô, hichura banhay; parisán, uliran. Form, v. [form] Formar. Mag-anyô, magbanhay. Formal, adj. [fórmal] Formál. Pormál. Formality, n. [formáliti] Formalidad. Kapormalán. Formless, adj. [fórmles] Informe, disforme. Walang anyô. Former, adj. [fórmer] Precedente, anterior. Náuna, una. Formerly, adv. [fórmerli] Antiguamente. Dati, datihan, noong una, noong araw. Formidable, adj. [fórmidabl] Formidable. Kakilakilabot. Formula, n. [fórmiula] Fórmula. Tuntunin. Formulary, n. [fórmiuleri] Formulario. Tularán, parisán; pánuntunan. Forsake, v. [forsék] Dejar, abandonar. Iwan, pabayaan. Forsooth, adv. [forsúz] En verdad, ciertamente. Sa katotohanan. Forswear, v. [forswír] Perjurar. Manumpâ ng kasinungalingan. Fort, n. [fort] Fuerte, castillo. Katibayan, kutà. Forth, adv. [forz] En adelante, hacia adelante. Sa unahan, sa dakong unahan. Forthcoming, adj. [forzkáming] Pronto á comparecer. Darating agad. Forthwith, adv. [foruíz] Inmediatamente, sin dilacion. Karakaraka, pagdaka. Fortieth, adj. [fórtiez] Cuadragésimo. Ikapat na pû. Fortification, n. [fortifikécion] Fortificacion. Kutà, katibayan. Fortify, v. [fórtifai] Fortificar, fortalecer. Pagtibayin. Fortitude, n. [fórtitiud] Fortaleza, valor. Lakás, tapang. Fort-night, n. [fórtnait] Quince dias. Labing limang araw. Fort-nightly, adv. [fortnáitli] Cada quince dias. Twing labing limang araw. Fortress, n. [fórtres] Fortaleza. Katibayan, kutà. Fortuitous, adj. [fortiúitoes] Fortuito, casual, accidental. Nagkátaon, hindî sinasadyâ. Fortuity, n. [fortiúiti] Acaso, accidente. Pagkakátaon, pangyayaring hindî sinasadyâ. Fortunate, adj. [fórchiunet] Afortunado, dichoso. Mapalad, maginghawa. Fortune, n. [fórchiun] Fortuna, suerte. Kapalaran, palad. Forty, adj. [fórti] Cuarenta. Apat na pû. Forum, n. [fóroem] Foro, tribunal, juzgado. Bahay-húkuman. Forward, adv. [fórward] Adelante, mas alla. Sa unahan, sa dako pa roon. Forward, v. [fórward] Acelerar, apresurar. Madaliin, magpauna. Foss, n. [fos] Foso. Hukay. Foster, v. [fóster] Criar, nutrir. Alagaan, pakanin. Foul, adj. [fául] Sucio, impuro, detestable. Marumí, malabò, karimarimarim. Foul, v. [fául] Ensuciar. Magdumí. Foulness, n. [fáulnes] Porquería. Dumí. Found, v. [fáund] Fundar, establecer. Magtayô, magtatag, magpundar. Foundation, n. [faundécion] Cimiento, fundamento; fundacion, principio. Tatagáng baón, pátibayan; pagkasimulâ. Founder, n. [fáundær] Fundador. Ang nagtayô ó nagtatag ng bahay, gusalì, kapisanan, ibp. Founder, v. [fáundær] Irse á pique, salir mal de alguna empresa. Lumubog; mápariwarâ. Foundling, n. [fáundling] Niño expósito. Batang ulila na walang sukat mag-ampon. Fountain, n. [fáunten] Fuente. Bukal. Four, adj. [foúr] Cuatro. Apat. Fourfold, adj. [foúrfold] Cuadruplo. Makaapat. Four-footed, adj. [fór-futed] Cuadrúpedo. May apat na paa. Fourscore, adj. [fórscor] Ochenta. Walong pû. Foursquare, adj. [fórskuær] Cuadrangular. Parisukat. Fourteen, adj. [fórtin] Catorce. Labing apat. Fourteenth, adj. [fórtinz] Décimocuarto. Ika labing apat. Fourth, adj. [foúrz] Cuarto. Ikapat. Fourthly, adv. [foúrzli] En cuarto lugar. Sa ikaapat na lugar. Fowl, n. [fául] Ave. Ibon, anomang malaking hayop na may pakpak. Fowler, n. [faulær] Cazador de aves. Tagahuli ng hayop. Fowling, n. [fáuling] Caza de aves. Panghuhuli ng ibon. Fox, n. [focs] Zorra. Sorra, isang hayop-gubat. Fox, v. [focs] Emborrachar. Maglasíng, maglangô. Foxy, adj. [fócsi] Astuto. Tuso, switik. Fraction, n. [fráccion] Fraccion. Bahagi. Fractional, adj. [fráccional] Fraccionario. Nauukol sa bahagi. Fractious, adj. [fráccies] Regañon, enojadizo. Masungít, magagalitín. Fracture, n. [frácchiur] Fractura. Balì. Fracture, v. [frácchiur] Fracturar. Bumalì. Fragile, adj. [frádchil] Frágil, quebradizo. Marupok, mahunâ, babasagín. Fragility, n. [fradchíliti] Fragilidad, debilidad. Dupok, karupukan, kahunaan. Fragment, n. [frágment] Fragmento. Kaputol, piraso, bahagi. Fragrance, n. [frégrans] Fragrancia. Bangó, masarap na amoy. Fragrancy, n. [frégransi] Fragrancia. Bangó, masarap na amoy. Fragrant, adj. [frégrant] Fragrante, oloroso. Mabango. Frail, adj. [frel] Fragil, quebradizo. Marupok, mahunâ, babasagín. Frail, n. [frel] Sera, espuerta. Buslô. Frailty, n. [frélti] Fragilidad, debilidad. Dupok, karupukan, kahunaan. Frame, n. [freím] Marco, cuadro, forjadura. Banhay. Frame, v. [freím] Forjar, ajustar. Magbanhay. Franchise, n. [fránchiz] Franquicia, privilegio. Pahintulot ng pámahalaan. Frankincense, n. [fránkinsens] Incienso. Pangsuob. Frankly, adv. [fráncli] Francamente. Sa pagtatapat. Frankness, n. [francnes] Franqueza. Pagtatapat. Frantic, adj. [frántic] Frenético, furioso. Galít na galít. Fraternal, adj. [fratérnal] Fraternal. Nauukol sa pagkakapatid. Fraternity, n. [fratérniti] Fraternidad, hermandad. Pagkakapatiran. Fraternize, v. [fratérnaiz] Hermanarse. Ariing parang kapatid. Fratricide, n. [frátrisaid] Fratricidio; fratricida. Pagpatay sa kapatid; nakamatay ng kapatid. Fraud, n. [frod] Fraude, engaño. Dayà, parayà. Fraudulence, n. [fródiulens] Fraudulencia, engaño. Pagdarayà. Fraudulent, adj. [fródiulent] Fraudulento, engañoso. Magdarayà, switik. Fraught, adj. [frot] Cargado, lleno. Punô ng lamán. Fraught, v. [frot] Cargar, atestar. Punûin ng lamán. Fray, n. [fre] Riña, disputa. Káalitan, pagtatalo. Fray, v. [fré] Estregar, refregar. Gasgasín. Freak, n. [fric] Fantasía, capricho. Sumpong, kapricho. Freckle, n. [frécl] Peca. Pekas. Freckled, adj. [frécld] Pecoso. Mapekas. Free, adj. [fri] Libre, licencioso. Malayà, layâ, timawà. Free, v. [fri] Libertar; librar; eximir. Palayain; iligtas; timawain. Freebooter, n. [fríbutoer] Ladron, saqueador. Tulisán, magnanakaw. Freeborn, n. [fríborn] Nacido libre. Anák-timawà. Freedman, n. [frídman] Liberto. Taong nakalayà. Freedom, n. [frídom] Libertad. Kalayaan. Freeman, n. [fríman] Libre. Taong malayà. Freewill, n. [fríuil] Libre albedrio. Sariling kalooban; kusà. Freeze, v. [friz] Helarse. Magíng yelo. Freight, n. [fret] Carga, flete. Lulan. Freight, v. [fret] Cargar, fletar. Lulanan. French, adj. & n. [french] Frances. Pransés. Frenchman, n. [frénchman] Frances. Pranses, taga Pransya. Frenzied, adj. [frénzid] Loco, delirante. Ulól, hibáng. Frenzy, n. [frénzi] Frenesí, locura. Pagkahibang, kaululán. Frequence, n. [frécuens] Frecuencia. Kadalasan. Frequency, n. [frécuensi] Frecuencia. Kadalasan. Frequent, adj. [frícuent] Frecuente. Madalas. Frequent, v. [frícuent] Frecuentar. Parunán ng madalas. Frequently, adv. [frícuentli] Frecuentemente. Madalas. Fresh, adj. [fresh] Reciente, nuevo, recien llegado; fresco. Sariwà, bago; malamig. Freshen, v. [fréshen] Refrescarse. Magpalamig. Freshet, n. [fréshet] Arroyo. Batis. Freshman, n. [fréshman] Novicio. Ang bagong nag-aaral. Freshness, n. [fréshnes] Frescura. Lamíg. Fret, n. [fret] Enojo, enfado. Tampo. Fret, v. [fret] Enojarse, enfadarse. Magtampó. Friar, n. [fráiær] Frayle. Prayle. Friary, n. [fráiari] Convento de frayles. Kapisanan ng mga prayle. Friction, n. [fríccioen] Friccion, frotadura. Hagod, kuskos. Friday, n. [fráide] Viernes. Byernes. Friend, n. [frend] Amigo, amiga. Kaibigan, katoto. Friendless, adj. [fréndles] Sin amigo. Walang kaibigan, walang katoto. Friendliness, n. [fréndlines] Amistad. Pagkakaibigan, pagkakatoto. Friendly, adj. [fréndli] Amigable, amistoso. Magiliw. Friendship, n. [fréndship] Amistad. Pagkakaibigan, pagkakatoto. Frigate, n. [fríguet] Fragata. Pragata (isang urì ng sasakyang pangdigmà). Fright, n. [fráit] Susto, espanto; terror. Sindak, malaking takot. Fright, v. [fráit] Asustar. Manindak. Frighten, v. [fráiten] Espantar. Manggulat, manakot. Frightful, adj. [fráitful] Espantoso, horrible; horroroso. Kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak, katakottakot. Frigid, adj. [frídchid] Frio, frígido. Maginaw, malamig. Frigidity, n. [fridchíditi] Frialdad. Ginaw, lamig. Frill, n. [fril] Escote, vuelo. Pileges. Fringe, n. [frindch] Franja; márgen, borde. Uria, gilid. Frippery, n. [frípæri] Ropavejería, baratillo. Tindahan ng mga yaring damit na mura. Frisk, n. [frisc] Brinco. Lundag, lukso. Frisk, v. [frisc] Saltar, cabriolar. Maglulundag, magluluksó. Frisky, adj. [fríski] Alegre, jugueton. Masayá, malarô, malandî. Frith, n. [friz] Estrecho ó brazo de mar. Gipit ng dagat. Fritter, n. [fríter] Fritilla. Maruyà tortilya. Fritter, v. [fríter] Tajar (carne para freirla). Humiwà. Frivolity, n. [frivóliti] Frivolidad. Walang kabuluhan. Frivolous, adj. [frívoloes] Frívolo. Walang kabuluhan. Frizz, v. [friz] Frisar, rizar. Kumulot ng buhok. Frizzle, v. [frízl] Frisar, rizar. Kumulot ng buhok. Frizzle, n. [frízl] Rizo. Kulot. Fro, adv. [fro] Atras, hacia atras. Sa likuran, sa dakong likuran. Frock, n. [froc] Blusa, bata de niño. Kamisola. Frog, n. [frog] Rana. Palakâ. Frolic, adj. [frólic] Alegre, vivo. Masayá, buháy ang loob. Frolic, n. [frólic] Fantasía, capricho. Guníguní, kathâ. Frolic, v. [frólic] Loquear, juguetear. Maglilikot, maglulundag. Frolicsome, adj. [frolicsoem] Jugueton, travieso. Malarô, malikot. From, prep. [from] De, desde. Mulâ sa, buhat sa. Frond, n. [frond] Fronde, rama verde. Sangang lungtian, sangang maberde. Front, n. [front] Frente, frontispicio. Harapán, tapat. Front, v. [front] Hacer frente. Humarap, tumapat. Frontier, n. [fróntir] Frontera. Unahan, harapán. Frost, n. [frost] Helado, hielo. Tubig na namumuô sa lamig. Frosty, adj. [frósti] Helado. Namumuô sa lamíg. Froth, n. [froz] Espuma. Bulâ. Froth, v. [froz] Espumar. Bumulâ. Frothy, adj. [frózi] Espumoso. Mabulâ. Frouzy, adj. [fráuzi] Fétido. Mabahò. Frow, adj. [frau] Fragil, quebradizo. Marupok, babasagín. Froward, adj. [fróward] Indómito, indocil, díscolo, impertinente. Matígas ang ulo, walang bait, walang turò. Frowardness, n. [frówardnes] Insolencia, mal genio. Katigasan ng ulo, kasamaang ugalì. Frown, n. [fráun] Ceño, enojo. Sungít, sibangot. Frown, v. [fráun] Mirar con ceño, poner mala cara. Tumingin ng nakasibangot ó ng masungit na tingín, tumingin ng nakamungot. Frozen, adj. [frozn] Helado. Namumuô sa lamíg. Fructiferous, adj. [frúctifoeroes] Fructífero. Mabunga. Fructification, n. [fructifikécioen] Fructificacion. Pamumunga, pagbubunga. Fructify, v. [frúctifai] Fructificar. Magbunga, mamunga. Frugal, adj. [frúgal] Frugal, sobrio. Matimtiman, mapaggawâ ng katamtaman. Frugality, n. [frugáliti] Frugalidad, moderacion. Katamtaman, kainaman, kasukatán. Fruit, n. [frut] Fruto; producto; provecho. Bunga; pakinabang. Fruitage, n. [frútedch] Frutas. Mga bunga. Fruitful, adj. [frútful] Fructífero, fertil, provechoso, util. Mabunga, matabâ, malagô, napapakinabangan. Fruitfulness, n. [frútfulnes] Fertilidad, fecundidad. Katabaan ng lupà; lagô. Fruition, n. [fruícioen] Fruicion. Pagtatamó, pagtataglay. Fruitless, adj. [frútles] Infructuoso; esteril. Walang bunga, karat. Frustrate, v. [frustræt] Frustrar; anular. Maaksayá, masayang. Frustration, n. [frustrécien] Contratiempo, chasco. Pagkasayang, pagkaaksayá; pagkapahiyâ. Fry, v. [frai] Freir. Magpiritos. Frying-pan, n. [fráing-poen] Sarten. Kawalì. Fuddle, v. [fadl] Emborrachar; emborracharse. Lumasíng; maglasíng. Fudge, int. [foedch] ¡Quita de ahí! ¡vete allá!. Tabì! sulong! Fuel, n. [fiúel] Combustible. Panggatong, uling. Fugitive, adj. & n. [fiúdchitiv] Fugitivo. Taanan; nagtatagô. Fulcrum, n. [fálcroem] Apoyo de palanca. Pangbwit, suhay. Fulfill, v. [fúlfil] Cumplir. Gumanap, tumupad. Fulfilment, n. [fúlfilment] Complimiento. Pagganap, pagtupad. Full, adj. [ful] Lleno, repleno; harto, saciado. Punô, puspos, lubos; busog, sandat. Full, n. [ful] Complemento. Kapupunan, kasakdalan. Fuller, n. [fúloer] Batanero. Manghahabi. Fulling-mill, n. [fúling-mil] Batán. Habihán. Full-moon, n. [fúlmun] Plenilunio, luna llena. Kabilugan ng bwan. Fulminant, adj. [fúlminant] Fulminante. Pumuputok. Fulminate, v. [fúlminet] Fulminar. Pumutok. Fulmination, n. [fúlminécien] Fulminacion. Pagputok. Fulness, n. [fúlnes] Plenitud, llenura. Kapunúan. Fulsome, adj. [fúlsam] Rancio, impuro. Maantá, sirâ. Fumble, v. [fámbl] Tartamudear; chapucear. Magago, mautal. Fume, n. [fium] Humo, vapor. Asó, usok. Fume, v. [fium] Humear, exhalar. Umasó, umusok. Fumigate, v. [fiúmiguet] Perfumar, sahumar. Sumuub; suubin. Fumigation, n. [fiumiguécion] Sahumerio. Pangsuob, panuob. Fumy, adj. [fiúmi] Humoso. Maasó, mausok. Fun, n. [fan] Chanza, burla; diversion, entretenimiento. Sisté, birò; kátuwaan, paglilibang. Function, n. [fúnccion] Funcion, desempeño ó cumplimiento de algun deber. Katungkulan, tungkúlin. Functionary, n. [fúnccieneri] Funcionario. Kawaní, may tungkulin. Fund, n. [fand] Fondo, caudal. Salapî, yaman, puhunan. Fund, v. [fand] Poner fondo en los fondos públicos. Maglagak ng salapî sa kaban-yaman ng bayan. Fundament, n. [fúndament] Fundamento; ancas. Tatagang-baón; tumbong. Fundamental, adj. [fundaméntal] Fundamental. Pátibayan. Funeral, adj. [fiúneral] Funeral, fúnebre. Nauukol sa paglilibing. Funeral, n. [fiúneral] Entierro. Paglilibing. Fungosity, n. [foengósiti] Fungosidad. Pagkabuhaghag. Fungous, adj. [fánguoes] Fungoso, esponjoso. Buhaghag. Funk, n. [foenk] Hedor, mal olor. Bahò, alingasaw. Funnel, n. [fánel] Embudo; cañón de chimenea. Embudo; pálabasan ng usok. Funny, adj. [fáni] Cómico, bufón. Nakákatawa. Fur, n. [foer] Forro de pieles; pelo de las bestias. Susón ng balat; balahibo ng hayop. Furbish, v. [farbísh] Acicalar, pulir. Bulihin, pakinisin. Furfur, n. [fárfoer] Caspa. Balakubak. Furious, adj. [fiúrioes] Furioso, frenético. Mapusok, galít na galít. Furl, n. [foerl] Encoger. Lumulon, tumiklop; lulunin, tiklupin. Furlough, n. [fárlo] Licencia, permiso que se da á algun militar. Pahintulot na ipinagkakaloob sa isang kawal. Furnace, n. [fárnes] Horno. Hurnó, apuyán. Furnish, v. [fárnish] Suplir, proveer; equipar. Magbigay ng kailangan. Furniture, n. [fárnichur] Ajuar, los muebles de una casa. Kasangkapan sa bahay. Furrow, n. [fárro] Surco. Bungkal, linang, bugal. Furrow, v. [fárro] Surcar. Bumungkal, maglinang. Further, adv. [fárdzer] Mas lejos, mas allá; aun; ademas de eso. Malayò pa, sa dako pa roon; sakâ; bukod pa sa. Further, v. [fárdzer] Adelantar, promover, ayudar. Ipagpauna, isulong, tumulong. Furtherance, n. [fárdzerans] Adelantamiento, ayuda, socorro, apoyo. Páuna, tulong, saklolo, agapay. Furthermore, adv. [fárdzermor] Ademas. Bukod sa rito. Furthest, adv. [fárdzest] Lo mas lejos. Kálayulayuan. Furtive, adj. [fúrtiv] Furtivo, oculto, secreto. Lingíd, lihim, kublí. Furuncle, n. [fiúroencl] Furúnculo, divieso. Bagâ; pigsá. Fury, n. [fiúri] Furor; furia. Poot, matinding galit. Fuse, v. [fiuz] Fundir, derritir. Magbubó, tumunaw. Fusible, adj. [fiúzibl] Fundible. Maaaring tunawin. Fusion, n. [fiúsioen] Fundicion; fusion. Pagbububô, pagtunaw; pagsasapìsapì. Fuss, n. [fus] Alboroto, ruido. Gulo, kaingay. Fussy, adj. [fúsi] Jactancioso. Hambog. Fust, n. [foest] Hedor. Amoy na mabahò, alingasaw. Fust, v. [foest] Enmohecerse. Amagin. Fusty, adj. [fústi] Mohoso. Maamag, inaamag. Futile, adj. [fiútil] Futíl, frívolo, inutil. Walang kabuluhan. Futility, n. [fiutíliti] Futilidad, vanidad. Kawalán ng kabuluhan. Future, adj. [fiúchur] Futuro, venidero. Haharapin, darating. Future, n. [fiúchur] Lo futuro, el tiempo venidero. Ang panahong darating. Futurity, n. [fiutiúriti] Sucesos venideros; porvenir. Mangyayari, sasapitin. Fy, int. [fai] !Vaya! ¡que vergüenza!. Ayan! kahiyâhiyâ! G G, [dchi] G, (je). G, (ga). Gab, n. [gab] Locuacidad. Tabil, katabilan, taras, satsat. Gab, v. [gab] Charlar. Magmatabil, sumatsat. Gabble, n. [gábl] Algarabía. Satsatan. Gabble, v. [gábl] Charlar, parlotear. Sumatsat, kumahig ng sálitaan. Gable-end, n. [gábl-end] Socarrén, alero. Balisbisan. Gad, v. [gad] Vagamundear, callejear. Maggalâ, lumaboy. Gadder, n. [gádoer] Vagamundo, callejero. Galâ, libót, palaboy. Gad-fly, n. [gád-flay] Tábano. Bangaw. Gaff, n. [gaf] Arpon ó garfio grande. Kalawit, panungkit. Gaffle, n. [gáfl] Navaja de gallo. Tarì. Gag, n. [gag] Mordaza. Sangkal, panipit. Gag, v. [gag] Tapar la boca con mordaza. Lagyan ng sangkal ang bibig. Gage, n. [guedch] Prenda; medida. Sanglâ, lágak; panukat. Gage, v. [guedch] Empeñar alguna alhaja; medir. Magsanglâ; sumukat. Gaiety, n. [gaiéti] Alegría. Kasayahan. Gaily, adv. [guéili] Alegremente. Masayá. Gain, n. [gueín] Ganancia, provecho, interes, lucro. Pakinabang, tubò; panalunan. Gain, v. [gueín] Ganar. Makinabang, magtubò, manalo. Gainer, n. [guéner] Ganador. Ang nananalo. Gainsay, v. [guensé] Contradecir, negar. Tumatwâ, kumailâ. Gait, n. [gueít] Marcha, paso. Lakad, hakbang. Gaiter, n. [guétoer] Polaina. Polainas. Gale, n. [gueíl] Viento. Hanging malamig. Gall, n. [gol] Hiel. Apdó. Gall, v. [gol] Desollar, acibarar. Talupan ng balat. Gallant, adj. [gálant] Galante, elegante. Magandang ugalì, may asal mahal, makisig, magarà. Gallantry, n. [gálantri] Galantería. Pagmamagarà, pagmamakisig. Gallery, n. [gáloeri] Galería, corredor. Galeryá. Galley, n. [gáli] Galera. Kusinà ng sasakyan. Gallon, n. [gálon] Galon, medida de líquidos. Galón, takalan ng mga tunaw na bagay. Gallop, n. [gálop] Galope. Takbong paluksó-luksó. Gallop, v. [gálop] Galopear. Tumakbó ng paluksó-luksó. Gallows, n. [gálos] Horca. Bibitayán. Galvanic, adj. [galvánic] Galvánico. Galbaniko. Gamble, v. [gámbl] Jugar con exceso. Magsugal. Gambler, n. [gámbler] Tahur, garitero. Mánunugal, sugarol. Gambling, n. [gámbling] Juego con exceso. Sugal. Gambol, n. [gámbol] Cabriola, brinco de alegría. Lukso, lundag sa sayá ó twâ. Gambol, v. [gámbol] Brincar, saltar. Magluluksó, maglulundag. Game, n. [gueím] Juego; pasatiempo; caza. Larô, líbangan; nápangasuhan. Game, v. [gueím] Jugar. Maglarô, magsugal. Gamecock, n. [guémcoc] Gallo de riña. Sasabungín. Gamesome, adj. [guemsám] Jugueton, retozon. Palalarô, palabirô. Gamester, n. [guémster] Tahur, jugador. Sugarol, mánunugal. Gaming, n. [guéming] Juego. Sugal, larô. Gander, n. [gánder] Ánsar, ganso. Gansang lalake. Gang, n. [gang] Cuadrilla, banda. Pulutong, bunton ng tao. Gangrene, n. [gángrin] Gangrena. Kangrena. Gangrene, v. [gángrin] Gangrenarse. Kangrenahin. Gangrenous, adj. [gángrines] Gangrenoso. Kinakangrena. Gangway, n. [gángwey] Pasamano de un navío. Pasamano ng sasakyan sa dagat. Gaol, n. [guel] Carcel, prisión. Bilangguan, bilibid. Gaoler, n. [guéler] Carcelero. Bantay sa bilangguan. Gap, n. [gap] Boquete, brecha. Butas, pwang. Gape, v. [gueíp] Bostezar. Maghikab. Gaping, n. [guéping] Bostezo. Hikab. Garb, n. [garb] Vestidura, traje; apariencia exterior. Damit, kasuutan; hichura, anyô. Garbage, n. [gárbedch] Desecho, suciedad. Sukal, dumí. Garble, v. [gárbl] Entresacar, apartar. Piliin, ihiwalay. Garden, n. [gárden] Jardin; huerto. Halamanan. Garden, v. [gárden] Cultivar un jardin ó un huerto. Maghalaman. Gardener, n. [gárdener] Jardinero, hortelano. Maghahalamán. Gardening, n. [gárdening] Jardinería. Paghahalaman. Gargle, n. [gárgl] Gargarismo. Mumog. Gargle, v. [gárgl] Gargarizar. Magmumog. Garish, adj. [gárish] Pomposo, ostentoso. Hambog, magarà. Garland, n. [gárland] Guirnalda. Koronang bulaklak. Garlic, n. [gárlic] Ajo. Bawang. Garment, n. [gárment] Vestido, vestidura. Damit, kasúutan. Garner, n. [gárner] Granero. Bangán. Garnish, n. [gárnish] Guarnicion, adorno. Gayak, palamuti. Garnish, v. [gárnish] Guarnecer, adornar. Maggayak, magpalamuti. Garret, n. [gárret] Guardilla, desván. Loob ng bubungan. Garrison, n. [gárrison] Guarnicion; plaza de armas guarnecida de tropas. Mga kawal na náhihimpil sa isang pook. Garrulity, n. [garriúliti] Garrulidad, locuacidad, charladuría. Satsat, pangangahig ng sálitaan. Garrulous, adj. [gárriulæs] Gárrulo, locuaz, charlador. Masalitâ, masatsát, palausáp. Garter, n. [gárter] Cenojil, jarretera. Ligas. Garter, v. [gárter] Atar con cenojil. Magligas. Gas, n. [gas] Gas. Gas. Gaseous, adj. [gázies] Gaseoso. May halong gas. Gash, n. [gash] Cuchillada. Tagâ, hiwà. Gash, v. [gash] Dar una cuchillada. Tumagâ, humiwà. Gasp, n. [gasp] Respiracion dificil. Hingal. Gasp, v. [gasp] Abrir la boca para tomar aliento. Humingal. Gastric, adj. [gástric] Gástrico. Nauukol sa sikmurà. Gastronomic, adj. [gastronómic] Gastronómico. Mayamò, mapagbundat. Gate, n. [gueít] Puerta; la entrada de alguna ciudad. Pintuang daan; pintuangbayan. Gateway, n. [guétwe] Entrada por las puertas de algun cercado. Pasukan sa isang looban. Gather, v. [gádzer] Recoger; amontonar. Dumampot; tumipon, magpisan. Gathering, n. [gádzering] Acumulacion; colecta. Pagtitipon; ambagan. Gaudiness, n. [gódines] Pompa, ostentacion. Pagpaparangalan, pagpaparangâ, pagmamagarà. Gaudy, adj. [gódi] Fastoso, pomposo. Magarà, makisig. Gauge, n. [guedch] La vara, sonda ó escandallo. Panukat, panarok. Gauge, v. [guedch] Medir. Sumukat, tumarok. Gaunt, adj. [gant] Flaco, delgado. Payat. Gauntlet, n. [gántlet] Guantelete, manopla. Gwante, balutì sa kamay at bisig. Gauze, n. [goz] Gasa. Gasa, kayong manipis. Gawk, n. [gok] Un tonto, un insensato. Ungas, tangá, gunggong, hangal. Gawky, adj. [góki] Bobo, tonto, rudo. Gunggong, tangá, hangal, ungas. Gay, adj. [guey] Alegre. Masayá. Gayety, n. [guéeti] Alegría. Sayá, kasayahan, katwaan. Gaze, n. [gueíz] Contemplacion; mirada. Masíd, malas; titig. Gaze, v. [gueíz] Contemplar; considerar. Magmasid, magmalas; tumitig. Gazelle, n. [guésel] Gacela. Isang urì ng usá. Gazer, n. [guézer] Miron. Miron, tagapanood. Gazette, n. [guézet] Gaceta. Gaseta, páhayagan. Gear, n. [guir] Vestido, atavio. Damit; kasangkapan. Geck, v. [guec] Engañar, defraudar. Magdayà, manghibò. Geese, n. & pl. [guiis] Gansos. Mga gansâ. Gelatin, n. [dchélatin] Gelatina, jalea. Helatina, matamis. Gelatinous, adj. [dchilátinæs] Gelatinoso. Malagkit. Geld, v. [gueld] Castrar, capar. Kumapon; kapunin. Gelding, n. [guélding] Animal castrado. Hayop na kapon. Gem, n. [dchem] Joya, presea. Hiyas, mahalagang bato. Gender, n. [dchénder] Especie, genero. Urì ng pagkalalake ó pagkababae. Genealogical, adj. [dchenialódchical] Genealógico. Nauukol sa pagkakasunodsunod ng lahì. Genealogy, n. [dcheniálodchi] Genealogía. Ang pagkakasunodsunod ng lahì. General, adj. [dchéneral] General, comun, usual. Karaniwan. General, n. [dchéneral] General. Heneral, pangulo ng hukbó. Generalize, v. [dchénoeralaiz] Generalizar. Gawing pangkaraniwan. Generally, adv. [dchénoerali] Generalmente, comunmente. Sa karaniwan. Generalship, n. [dchénoeralship] Generalato. Pagka-heneral. Generate, v. [dchéneret] Engendrar, procrear. Magkaanak, manganak, maglahì. Generation, n. [dchenerécion] Generacion. Lahì. Generator, n. [dcheneréter] Engendrador. Ang nanganganak ó lumalalang ó gumagawâ. Generic, adj. [dchinéric] Genérico. Nauukol sa urì ng pagkalalake ó pagkababae. Generosity, n. [dchenerósiti] Generosidad, liberalidad. Kagandahang ugalì kagandahang loob. Generous, adj. [dchéneræs] Generoso, liberal. Magandang ugalì, magandang loob. Genesis, n. [dchénesis] Génesis. Hénesis, pasimulâ; unang aklat ng Biblia. Genial, adj. [dchínial] Genial, natural. Nauukol sa katutubong ugalì ó asal, nauukol sa talagang ugalì. Geniality, n. [dchiniáliti] Ingenuidad; alegría. Talagang ugalì; kasayahan. Genitals, n. [dchénitals] Genitales, testículos. Itlog. Genitive, n. [dchénitiv] Genitivo. Henitibo, bahagi ng tuntunin ng isang wikà tungkol sa pag-aarì. Genius, n. [dchínies] Genio. Talagang ugalì ó asal. Genteel, adj. [dchentíl] Urbano, cortés. Magalang, mapagpitagan, mapagbigay-loob. Gentile, n. [dchéntail] Gentil. Héntiles, pamagat na itinatawag noong una ng mga taga Israel sa mga dî nila kalahì. Gentility, n. [dchentíliti] Urbanidad, cortesía. Galang, pitagan, kamahalan ng kilos. Gentle, adj. [dchéntl] Suave, docil, benévolo, benigno. Mahinahon, mabait, mahábagin, maawain. Gentlefolk, n. [dchéntlfoc] La gente bien nacida. Taong mabait, taong mabuti ang pagkaturò. Gentleman, n. [dchéntlman] Caballero. Ginoo, mahal na tao. Gentlemanly, adj. [dchéntlmanli] Caballeroso, urbano. May mahal na kilos, mapagpitagan, mabait. Gentlewoman, n. [dchéntlwuman] Señora, dama. Ginang. Gently, adj. [dchéntli] Suavemente; despacio, poco á poco. Dahandahan, untîuntî, inot-inot, utay-utay. Gentry, n. [dchéntri] Ciudadanos distinguidos. Mga taong magigiting. Genuflection, n. [dchiniufléccion] Genuflexion. Paglohod, lohod. Genuine, adj. [dchénuin] Genuino, puro. Pulós, taganas, wagas, dalisay. Genuineness, n. [dchénuines] Pureza. Kawagasan, kadalisayan. Genus, n. [dchínes] Género. Urì, klase. Geographer, n. [dchiógrafer] Geógrafo. Marunong ng heograpyá. Geographical, adj. [dchiográfical] Geográfico. Nauukol sa heograpyá. Geography, n. [dchiógrapi] Geografía. Heograpyá. Geology, n. [dchiólodchi] Geología. Karunungan tungkol sa likás ng iba't ibang bahagi ng lupà. Geometrical, adj. [dchiométrical] Geométrico. Nauukol sa heometría. Geometry, n. [dchiómetri] Geometría. Heometría. Germ, n. [dcherm] Ovario ó brote. Binhî, pinanggagalingan, pinagbubuhatan. German, adj. & n. [dchérman] Aleman. Aleman, taga Alemanya. Germinal, adj. [dchérminal] Germinativo. Nauukol sa binhî. Germinate, v. [dehérminet] Brotar. Umusbong, sumupling. Gestation, n. [dchestécioen] Preñez. Pagka-buntis. Gesture, n. [dchéschur] Gesto, accion. Galaw, kilos, kiyâ; ismid; ingos. Gesticulate, v. [dchestíkiulet] Gesticular. Kumilos; kumiyâ; umismíd; umingos. Get, v. [guet] Ganar, adquirir, conseguir, obtener. Magtaglay, magtamó, magkamít. Gewgaw, n. [guiúgo] Chuchería, juguete de niños. Larúan. Geyser, n. [guéiser] Géiser, fuente caliente. Bukalan ng tubig na mainit. Ghastliness, n. [gástlines] Palidez, cara cadavérica. Putlâ, pagmumukhang patay. Ghastly, adj. [gástli] Pálido, horrible. Maputlâ, kakilakilabot. Ghost, n. [gost] Espectro. Multó, guníguní. Ghostly, adj. [góstli] Espiritual, lo perteneciente á los aparecidos. Nauukol sa multo ó guníguní. Giant, n. [dcháiant] Gigante. Higante, lalaking mataas. Giantess, n. [dcháiantes] Giganta. Higanta, babaing mataas. Gibbet, n. [dchíbet] Horca. Bibitayán. Gibbet, v. [dchíbet] Ahorcar. Bumitay; bumigtí. Gibbon, n. [gíbbon] Una especie de monos. Isang urì ng mga unggoy. Gibe, n. [dcháib] Escarnio, burla. Lait, alipustâ, tuyâ. Gibe, v. [dcháib] Escarnecer, burlarse. Lumait, umalipustâ, tumuyâ. Giblets, n. [dcháiblets] Despojos y menudillos de aves. Mga lamáng-loob ng manok at iba pang kaurì nito. Giddiness, n. [guídines] Vértigo. Hilo. Giddy, adj. [guídi] Vertiginoso. Nahihilo, mahiluhín. Gift, n. [guift] Don, dádiva. Kaloob, bigáy, pasalubong. Gig, n. [guig] Calesa; birlocho; trompo; perinola. Kalesa; salapang; trumpo; prinola. Gigantic, adj. [dchaigántic] Gigastesco. Tila higante, parang higante ó lubhang matangkad. Giggle, v. [guígl] Fisgarse sonriendose. Tawanan, tuyâin. Gild, v. [guild] Dorar. Doraduhin. Gill, n. [dchil] Una medida de líquidos. Isang takalán ng mga tunaw na bagay. Gimcrack, n. [dchímcrac] Alguna obra mecánica de poco valor. Larúang may mákina. Gimlet, n. [guímlet] Barrera pequeña. Balibol. Gimp, n. [guimp] Encaje de hilo ó seda. Trencilyas. Gin, n. [dchin] Ginebra. Hinyebra. Ginger, n. [dchíndcher] Jengibre. Luya. Gingham, n. [guíngam] Carranclan, olancillo. Kayong sita. Gipsy, n. [dchípsi] Gitano. Pagalagalà. Gird, v. [guoerd] Ceñir, atar alguna cosa al rededor. Magbigkis, magsinturón. Girdle, n. [guírdl] Cíngulo, cinturon. Bigkís, sinturon. Girl, n. [guerl] Muchacha, doncella. Batang babae. Girlhood, n. [guérljud] Doncellez. Pagkabatang babae. Girlish, adj. [guérlish] Juvenil. Ukol sa batang babae. Girth, n. [guerz] Circunferencia. Bilog, kabilugan. Gist, n. [dchist] Punto principal de una acusacion. Pangulong sakdal ó sumbong. Give, v. [guiv] Dar, donar. Magbigay, magkaloob. Giver, n. [guíver] Dador, donador. Ang nagbibigay, ang nagkakaloob. Gizzard, n. [guízard] Molleja de ave. Balunbalúnan. Glacial, adj. [glécial] Glacial, helado. Namumuong tubig. Glacier, n. [glésier] Ventisquero. Bundok ng yelo ó namuong tubig. Glad, adj. [glad] Alegre, contento. Masayá, twâ, galák. Gladden, v. [gládn] Alegrar, regocijar. Sumayá, matwâ, magalak, malugod. Glair, n. [gler] Clara de huevo. Putî ng itlog. Glair, v. [gler] Untar con clara de huevo. Magpahid ng putî ng itlog. Glamour, n. [glámur] Ilusión óptica. Malikmatá. Glance, n. [glans] Ojeada; vislumbre, relampago. Sulyap; silay, kislap, kisap. Glance, v. [glans] Lanzar ojeada, centellear. Sumulyap; kumisap, kumislap. Gland, n. [gland] Glándula. Kulanì. Glanders, n. [glánders] Muermo. Sakít na sipón ng kabayo. Glare, n. [glær] Deslumbramiento; mirada feroz y penetrante. Pagkasilaw, kasilawan; tinging mabalasik. Glare, v. [glær] Relumbrar; echar miradas de indignación. Sumilaw; tumingin ng mabalasik. Glass, n. [glas] Vidrio; vaso. Bubog, salamin; baso. Glassy, adj. [glási] Vitreo, cristalino. Parang bubog, parang salamín. Glaze, v. [glez] Vidriar. Lapatan ng salamín. Glazier, n. [glézier] Vidriero. Tagapaglapat ng salamin sa mga dungawan at ibp. Gleam, n. [glim] Rayo, resplandor muy pasajero. Kisap, kislap. Gleam, v. [glim] Brillar, relampaguear. Lumiwanag, numingning kumislap. Glean, v. [glin] Espigar; recoger. Manghimalay; mamulot. Gleaning, n. [glíning] Rebusca. Himalay; pamumulot ng nátira. Glebe, n. [glib] Glebe, cesped; tierras beneficiales. Lupang looban, lupang pinakikinabangan. Glee, n. [gli] Alegría, gozo. Sayá, twâ, galak. Gleeful, adj. [glíful] Gozoso, alegre. Galák, masayá. Glen, n. [glen] Valle. Libís. Glid, adj. [glid] Liso, resbaladizo. Makinis, madulas. Glide, v. [gláid] Resbalar, escurrirse. Dumulas, dumaplis. Glim, n. [glim] Farol de ronda. Parol na pananglaw. Glimmer, n. [glímer] Vislumbre. Sinag, silay. Glimpse, n. [glimps] Ojeada, vislumbre. Sulyap, silay. Glisten, v. [glísn] Relucir, brillar. Numingning, kumislap, kumisap, kumintab. Glitter, n. [glíter] Lustre, resplandor. Ningning, kislap, kisap, kintab. Glitter, v. [glíter] Lucir, brillar. Numingning, kumislap, kumisap, kumintab. Glittering, adj. [glítering] Relampago, lustre. Makislap, maningning, makintab. Gloaming, n. [glóming] Crepúsculo. Takip-silim. Gloat, v. [glot] Ojear con admiración ó con amor. Magpapungay. Globe, n. [glob] Esfera; globo, bola. Globo, bilog, bola. Globular, adj. [glóbiular] Globoso. Mabilog. Gloom, n. [glum] Opacidad, obscuridad; melancolía, tristeza. Lamlam, kulimlim; panglaw; lungkot. Gloom, v. [glum] Llenar de tristeza. Mapuspos ng kapanlawan. Gloominess, n. [glúmines] Opacidad, obscuridad; melancolía, tristeza. Lamlam, kulimlim; panglaw, lungkot. Gloomy, adj. [glúmi] Sombrío, obscuro; triste, melancólico. Malamlam, kulimlim; mapanglaw, malungkot. Glorification, n. [glorifikécion] Glorificacion. Paglwalhatì. Glorify, v. [glórifai] Glorificar. Lumwalhatì; lwalhatiin. Glorious, adj. [glóriæs] Glorioso. Malwalhatì. Glory, n. [glóri] Gloria, fama, celebridad, honra. Kalwalhatian, kabantugan, kagitingan, karangalan, kabunyian. Glory, v. [glóri] Gloriarse, jactarse. Lumwalhatì, maghambog, magparanyâ. Gloss, n. [glos] Glosa; lustre. Kinang, kintab, kinis ningning. Gloss, v. [glos] Glosar. Pakinangin, pakintabin, pakinisin, paningningin. Glossary, n. [glóseri] Glosario. Pákahuluganan ng mga salitang malalabò. Glosser, n. [glóser] Comentador; pulidor. Tagapagpaliwanag ng malabong salitâ; tagapagpakintab, tagapagpakinang. Glossy, adj. [glósi] Lustroso, brillante. Makintab, makinang, maningning. Glottis, n. [glótis] Glótis. Lalamunan. Glove, n. [glov] Guante. Gwantes, medyas ng kamáy. Glow, n. [glo] Lustre. Kisap, kislap. Glow, v. [glo] Relucir. Kumislap, kumisap. Glower, v. [glóuer] Mirar con ceño. Magkunot ng noo, magmungot. Glowingly, adv. [glóingli] De un modo resplandeciente. Kumikisap, kumikislap. Glow-worm, n. [gló-worm] Luciérnaga. Uod na tila alitaptap. Gloze, v. [gloz] Adular, lisonjear. Manuyâ, pumuri ng paimbabaw. Glue, n. [gliú] Cola, visco. Pangdikit. Glue, v. [gliú] Encolar. Magdikít. Glume, adj. [glæm] Tétrico, triste. Malungkot, mapanglaw. Glume, n. [glæm] Semblante ceñudo. Pagmumukhang masungit. Glut, n. [glat] Hartura, abundancia. Kabusugan, kabundatan, kasaganaan. Glut, v. [glat] Engullir, tragar, devorar. Lumamon, sumakmal. Glutinous, adj. [gliútinæs] Glutinoso, pegajoso. Malagkit, naninikit. Glutton, n. [glatn] Gloton, tragon. Taong matakaw ó masibà. Gluttonous, adj. [glátonoes] Gloton, goloso. Matakaw, masibà. Gluttony, n. [glátoni] Glotonería. Takaw, sibà, katakawan, kasibaan. Glycerine, n. [glízerin] Glicerina. Gliserina. Gnarl, v. [narl] Refunfuñar, gruñir. Umangil, bumulong-bulong ng pagalít. Gnarled, adj. [narld] Nudoso. Mabuhol, buhól-buhól. Gnash, v. [nash] Crujir los dientes. Magngalit. Gnat, n. [nat] Mosquito. Nikník. Gnaw, v. [no] Roer, corroer. Ngumatngat. Gnome, n. [nom] Gnomo. Nunò (sa punsó). Go, v. [go] Ir, irse. Pumaroon, yumaon, tumungo, pumunta. Goad, n. [god] Aguijada, pincho, aguijon. Tudlong, panudlong. Goad, v. [god] Aguijar, aguijonear. Tudlungin. Goal, n. [gorl] Meta, fin. Hangga, hanggahan, hangganan, dulo, wakás. Goat, n. [got] Cabra. Kambing. Goat-herd, n. [gót-jerd] Cabrero. Nag-aalagà ng kambing. Gobble, v. [góbl] Engullir, tragar. Lumamon, sumakmal. Gobbler, n. [góbler] Gloton. Matakaw, masibà. Go-between, n. [góbitwin] Entremetido. Mapakialam, mapanghimasok. Goblet, n. [góblet] Copa. Kopa. Goblin, n. [góblin] Espiritu ambulante, duende. Salot, tyanak. GOD, n. [god] Dios. May-kapal, Dyos, Bathalà. Godchild, n. [godcháild] Ahijado, a. Inaanak. Goddaughter, n. [góddoter] Ahijada. Inaanak na babae. Goddess, n. [góddes] Diosa. Babaing inaaring dyos. Godfather, n. [gódfadzer] Padrino. Inaamá. Godhead, n. [gódjed] Deidad, divinidad. Pagka-Dyos. Godless, n. [gódles] Infiel, impio. Dî kumikilala sa Dyos. Godlike, adj. [gódlaik] Divino. Ukol sa Dyos. Godliness, n. [gódlines] Piedad, santidad. Kabanalan. Godly, adj. [gódli] Piadoso, religioso. Banal. Godmother, n. [gódmodzor] Madrina. Iníina. Godson, n. [gódsan] Ahijado. Inaanak na lalake. Goer, n. [góer] Andador, paseante; vagabundo. Palalakad, layas; palaboy, hampas-lupà. Goggle-eyed, n [gógl-aid] Bisojo, bisco. Sulimpat, biskó, dulíng. Going, n. [góing] El paso, el andar. Ang lakad. Gold, n. [gold] Oro. Gintô. Golden, adj. [gólden] Dorado, de oro. Ginintô, may halong gintô. Goldsmith, n. [góldsmiz] Orífice. Panday-gintô. Gome, n. [gom] El unto negro que despiden los ejes de las ruedas. Ang langis na marumí na lumalabas sa mga ehe ng gulong. Gone, part. [gon] Ido; perdido; pasado; muerto. Nakáalis na; wala na; lipas; nanaw. Gong, n. [gong] Atabal chino. Gong, batingaw-insik. Good, adj. [gud] Bueno, benévolo. Mabuti, butihin. Good-by, adv. [gud-bái] A Dios. Paalam, adyos. Goodies, n. [gúdis] Golosinas. Kakanín. Goodliness, n. [gúdlines] Hermosura, elegancia, gracia. Gandá, kisig, dilag. Goodly, adj. [gúdli] Hermoso; alegre. Maganda; masayá. Good-nature, n. [gud-néchur] Bondad, benevolencia, buen corazon. Kagandahang loob; kagandahang ugalì. Good-natured, adj. [gud-néchurd] Bondadoso, benévolo, afable. Magandang loob, mabuting ugalì. Goodness, n. [gúdnes] Bondad. Kabutihan, buti. Good-night, adv. [gud-náit] Buenas noches. Magandang gabí; paalam. Goods, n. [guds] Mercaderías. Kalakal. Good-sense, n. [gúd-sens] Juicio sano. Mabait. Good-will, n. [gud-wíl] Benevolencia, bondad. Kagandahang loob. Goose, n. [gus] Ganso, ansar. Gansâ. Gore, n. [gor] Sangre cuajada. Dugong namuô. Gore, v. [gor] Punzar, herir con una arma punsante; herir un animal con sus cuernos á otro. Sumundot, dumurò; manwag. Gorge, n. [gordch] Gorja, gaznate. Saluysoy. Gorge, v. [gordch] Engullir, tragar. Sumakmal, lumamon. Gorgeous, adj. [górdches] Primoroso, vistoso. Mainam, marikít. Gormand, n. [górmand] Gloton. Masibà, matakaw. Gormandize, v. [górmandaiz] Comer con exceso. Magpakabundat, magpakayamò. Gormandizer, n. [górmandaizer] Golosazo. Mayamò. Gory, adj. [góri] Sangriento. Madugô, dugúan. Gosling, n. [gózling] Gansarón. Inakay na gansâ. Gospel, n. [góspel] Evangelio. Ebanhelyo, mabuting balità. Gossamer, n. [gósamer] Vello, pelusa de frutas. Bulo. Gossip, n. [gósip] Chisme. Kathâkathâ, hatid-humapit, chismes. Gossip, v. [góssip] Chismear. Maghatid-humapit. Gouge, n. [godch] Gubia, escoplo. Lukob. Gourd, n. [gord] Calabaza. Kalabasang ligaw. Gourmand, n. [gormand] Glotón. Taong masibà. Gout, n. [gáut] Gota. Sakít na pamamagâ sa mga dalirì at sihang ng mga ito. Govern, v. [góvern] Governar, regir. Mamahalà, magpunò. Governess, n. [góvernes] Directora. Tagataguyod, tagaiwi. Government, n. [góvernment] Gobierno. Pámahalaan. Governor, n. [góvernor] Gobernador. Gobernador, tagapamahalà. Gown, n. [gáun] Toga; camison. Kasuutang mahabà. Grabble, v. [grabl] Tentar, palpar. Kumapâ, umapuhap. Grace, n. [græs] Gracia. Biyayà. Graceful, adj. [grésful] Gracioso, primoroso. Mainam, marikit; pusong, nakakatawa. Graceless, adj. [grésles] Desagraciado, réprobo. Hamak. Gracious, adj. [grécioes] Gracioso, benévolo. Magandang-loob, mapagbiyayà. Graciousness, n. [grécioesnes] Gracia, bondad. Biyayà, kagandahang loob. Gradation, n. [gradécion] Graduacion. Baibaitang, pag-urì. Grade, n. [greíd] Grado, rango. Taas ó babà ng kalagayan, urì, grado. Gradual, adj. [grádiual] Gradual. Untíuntî. Graduate, n. [grádiuet] Graduado. Ang nakapagtamó ng título sa anomang karunungan. Graduate, v. [grádiuet] Graduarse. Magtamó ng título sa anomang karunungan. Graduation, n. [gradiuécion] Graduacion. Pagtatamó ng título sa anomang karunungan. Graft, n. [graft] Injerto. Suplíng. Graft, v. [graft] Ingertar, ingerir. Magpasuplíng, magagpang ng ibang sanga. Grain, n. [greín] Grano; semilla. Butil, binhî. Grammar, n. [grámar] Gramática. Gramátika, palatuntunan ng isang wikà. Grammarian, n. [gramárian] Gramático. Ang sumulat ó marunong ng palatuntunan ng isang wikà. Grammatical, adj. [gramátical] Gramatical. Nauukol sa palatuntunan ng isang wikà. Granary, n. [gránæri] Granero. Bangan, kámaligan ng palay ó mais, ibp. Grand, adj. [grand] Gran, ilustre. Dakilà, bunyî. Grandchild, n. [grándchaild] Nieto, nieta. Apó. Granddaughter, n. [gránddoter] Nieta. Apóng babae. Grandee, n. [grandí] Grande, hombre de distincion. Taong magiting ó bunyî, mataas na tao. Grandeur, n. [grándcher] Grandeza. Kadakilaan. Grand-father, n. [grand-fádzer] Abuelo. Nunong lalake. Grandiloquence, n. [grandílocuens] Grandilocuencia. Kainama't kagandahan ng pananalitâ. Grandma, n. [grándma] Lola. Lelang, impó. Grand-mother, n. [grand-módzer] Abuela. Nunong babae. Grandpa, n. [grándpa] Lola. Lelong, ingkó. Grandsire, n. [grándsair] Abuelo. Nunò, lelong, ingkó. Grandson, n. [grándsan] Nieto. Apóng lalake. Grange, n. [grandch] Granja, hacienda. Táhanan sa asyenda. Granite, n. [gránit] Granito. Isang urì ng mga butil na bato. Granivorous, adj. [granívoroes] Granívoro. Kumakain ng palay. Grant, n. [grant] Concesion, don, dádiva. Kaloob, bigay. Grant, v. [grant] Conceder; dar. Magpahintulot, pumayag; magkaloob, magbigay. Grantee, n. [grantí] Concesionario, donatario. Ang pinagkalooban, ang binigyan. Grantor, n. [grántor] Cesionario. Ang nagkakaloob, ang nagbibigay. Granular, adj. [grániular] Granoso. Parang butil. Granule, n. [grániul] Granillo. Butil. Granulous, adj. [grániuloes] Granuloso. Mabutil. Grape, n. [greíp] Uva. Ubas. Grapery, n. [gréperi] Viña. Ubasan. Grape-Stone, n. [grépston] Granuja. Butó ng ubas. Graphic, n. [gráfic] Gráfico. Ang pagkaguhit, ang pagkalarawan. Grapnell, n. [grápnel] Arpeo, gancho para atracar y abordar. Kawit, pangkawit. Grapple, n. [grápl] Arpeo; lucha, riña, pelea. Pangkawit; sunggaban, bunô, awayán, babag. Grapple, v. [grápl] Agarrar (se); venirse á las manos. Humawak; maghawakán; mag-away. Grasp, n. [grasp] La accion de agarrar; puñado, puño. Ang paghawak, pagtangan; dakot. Grasp, v. [grasp] Empuñar, asir, agarrar. Humawak, tumangan, pumigil. Grass, n. [gras] Yerba. Damó. Grasshopper, n. [grásshopoer] Langosta. Balang; lukton, dayupay. Grassiness, n. [grásines] Abundancia de yerba. Kalaguan ng damó. Grassy, adj. [grási] Herboso. Madamó. Grass-widow, n. [gras-uidó] Mujer cuyo marido está ausente. Babaing walâ ang asawa; bao sa buhay. Grate, n. [græt] Reja, verja, rejilla. Rehas, dalang-dalang. Grate, v. [græt] Rallar; rechinar (los dientes); enrejar. Kumayod; lumangitngit; magbakod. Grateful, adj. [grétful] Grato, agradecido. Marunong kumilala ng utang na loob. Gratefulness, n. [grétfulnes] Gratitud. Utang na loob. Grater, n. [grétoer] Rallo. Kudkuran pangayod. Gratification, n. [gratifikécioen] Gratificacion. Pabuyà, dulot, kaloob. Gratify, n. [grátifai] Gratificar. Magpabuyà, magkaloob. Gratis, n. [grétis] Gratis, de balde. Walang bayad, gratis. Gratitude, n. [grátitiud] Gratitud. Utang na loob. Gratuitous, adj. [gratiúitoes] Gratuito, voluntario. Walang bayad, kusang kaloob, bigay. Gratuity, n. [gratiúiti] Gratificacion, recompensa. Pabuyà, gantí. Gratulate, v. [grátiulet] Congratular. Bumatì ng pagpuri. Gratulation, n. [gratiulécioen] Congratulacion, parabien. Bating papuri. Grave, adj. [greív] Grave, serio. Pormal; malubhâ; mabigat; walang imik. Grave, n. [greív] Sepultura. Líbingan, hukay. Grave, v. [greív] Grabar, esculpir. Lumilok. Grave-clothes, n. [grév-cloz] Mortaja. Sapot. Grave-digger, n. [grév-diguoer] Sepulturero. Manghuhukay ng líbingan. Gravel, n. [grável] Cascajo, arena gruesa. Mga batong tipak-tipak. Gravelly, adj. [gráveli] Arenisco, cascajoso. Ukol sa mga batong tipak-tipak. Gravel-walk, n. [grável-uok] Camino empedrado. Daang mabató. Graven, adj. [grévn] Grabado. Linilok. Graver, n. [grévoer] Grabador; buril. Manglililok; panglilok. Gravestone, n. [grévston] Piedra sepulcral, lápida. Batong panakíp sa líbingan, lápida. Gravitate, v. [gráviteit] Gravitar. Manimbang. Gravitation, n. [gravitécion] Gravitacion. Paninimbang. Gravity, n. [gráviti] Gravedad, peso. Timbang, bigat. Gravy, n. [grévi] Jugo de la carne; salsa. Katas ng karné; sawsawan. Gray, adj. [gré] Gris; cano. Gris; puting-uban. Gray, n. [gré] Gris. Gris. Graybeard, n. [grébird] Barbicano. May maputing balbás. Grayheaded, a. [gréjeded] Canoso. Mauban; maputî na ang buhok. Grayish, adj. [greísh] Pardusco, entrecano. Namumutî. Graze, v. [grez] Pastorear; pacer, apacentar. Mag-alagà ng hayop; magpanginain; magpasabsab. Grazier, n. [grézier] Ganadero. Pastulan. Grease, n. [gris] Grasa. Sebo, tabâ. Grease, v. [gris] Engrasar. Pahiran ng sebo. Greasiness, n. [grízines] Pringue, gordura. Katabaan. Greasy, adj. [grízi] Grasiento, craso, gordo. Masebo, matabâ. Great, adj. [greít] Gran, grande. Dakilà, malakí. Great-grandchild, n. [greít-grandchaild] Bisnieto. Apo sa tuhod. Great-granddaughter, n. [greít-granddoter] Bisnieta. Apong babae sa tuhod. Great-grandfather, n. [greít-grandfadzer] Tatabuelo. Nunò sa tuhod [lalake]. Great-grandmother, n. [greít-grandmodzer] Tatabuela. Nunò sa tuhod (babae). Great-grandson, n. [greít-grandsan] Bisnieto. Apó sa tuhod (lalake). Greatness, n. [greítnes] Grandeza, extension. Kadakilaan, kalakhan. Grecian, adj. [grícian] Griego. Taga Gresya ó nauukol sa Gresya. Greed, n. [grid] Codicia, avaricia. Inggit, kasakiman. Greedily, adv. [grídili] Verazmente, ansiosamente. Pananabik, may pagkasakim. Greediness, n. [grídines] Voracidad, codicia. Kasakiman. Greek, adj. [gric] Griego. Nauukol sa Gresya. Greek, n. [gric] Griego. Taga Gresya. Green, adj. [grin] Verde. Lungtian, berde. Green, n. [grin] Color verde. Kulay lungtian, kulay berde. Green, v. [grin] Teñir de verde. Gawíng kulay lungtian ó berde. Greenish, adj. [grínish] Verdoso. Namemerde, naninilaw. Greenhorn, n. [grínjorn] Joven sin experiencia. Binatang musmos. Greenish, adj. [grínish] Verdoso. Sariwà, lungtian, maberde. Greet, v. [grit] Saludar, congratular. Bumatì. Greeting, n. [gríting] Salutacion. Batì. Grey, adj. [gré] Gris. Kulay gris. Gridiron, n. [grídairon] Parrillas. Ihawán. Grief, n. [grif] Pesar, pesadumbre, afliccion. Dalamhatì, hambal, hapis, lumbay. Grievance, n. [grívans] Pesar, pesadumbre. Hapis, hambal, lumbay, hinagpis, daing. Grieve, v. [griv] Agraviar, afligir. Umapí, dumalamhatì, magpahirap. Grievous, adj. [grivæs] Penoso, lastimoso. Nakahahapis, nakahahambal, nakapagdaramdam. Grill, v. [gril] Asar en parrillas. Mag-ihaw, magdarang. Grim, adj. [grim] Feo; disforme; ceñudo. Pangit, masamang hichura, nakamungot. Grimace, n. [grimés] Visaje, mueca. Ngiwî, ngibit. Grimalkin, n. [grimálkin] Gatazo. Malaking pusà. Grime, n. [gráim] Mugre, porquería. Dungis, dumí. Grime, v. [gráim] Ensuciar. Dumungis, dumumí. Grimy, adj. [gráimi] Mugriento. Marungis, marumí. Grin, n. [grin] Mueca; rechino de los dientes. Ngiwî; langitngit. Grin, v. [grin] Hacer visages; rechinar los dientes. Ngumiwî; lumangitngit. Grind, v. [gráind] Moler; pulverizar. Gumiling; galapungin. Grinder, n. [gráinder] Molinero; muela; molino. Manggigiling; bagáng; gilingan. Grindstone, n. [gráindston] Piedra amoladera. Batong gilingan; hasáan. Grip, n. [grip] Caz. Pádaluyan ng tubig. Grip, v. [grip] Desaguar. Magpadaloy ng tubig. Gripe, n. [gráip] Presa; agarro; apreton de la mano. Pamimiit; hawak; pagkakamay, pagpisil ng kamay. Gripe, v. [gráip] Agarrar, asir; dar cólico. Humawak, pumigil; sumakít ang tiyan. Griper, n. [gráiper] Usurero. Nagpapatubò. Grisly, adj. [grízli] Horroroso. Kakilakilabot, kasindak-sindak, katakot-takot. Grist, n. [grist] Molienda. Anomang ginigiling, gálapongin. Gristle, n. [grisl] Cartílago, ternilla. Butong malatâ, butong malambot. Gristly, adj. [grístli] Tendinoso, nervioso. Malitid. Grit, n. [grit] Arena. Buhangin. Gritty, adj. [gríti] Arenoso. Mabuhangin. Grizzle, n. [grizl] Gris. Kulay gris. Groan, n. [gron] Gemido, suspiro. Daing, hibik. Groan, v. [gron] Gemir, suspirar. Dumaing, humibik. Groaning, n. [gróning] Quejido. Daing, hibík. Grocer, n. [gróser] Especiero. Ang nagbibilí ng mga kakainín. Grocery, n. [gróseri] Especería. Pámilihan ng mga kakainín. Grog, n. [grog] Grog. Alak, ponche. Groggy, adj. [grógui] Medio borracho. Malasínglasíng. Groin, n. [gróin] Ingle. Singit. Groom, n. [grum] Establero, mozo de mulas ó caballos; novio. Sota, tagapag-alagà ng kabayo; nobyo. Groom, v. [grum] Cuidar los caballos. Mag-alagà ng kabayo. Groove, n. [gruv] Caverna, cavidad profunda. Yungib, lunggâ, bitak. Groove, v. [gruv] Acañalar. Bangbangin. Grope, v. [grop] Tentar, buscar á obscuras. Kumapâ, umapuhap. Gross, adj. [gros] Grueso, corpulento; espeso; lerdo, estúpido. Magaspang, bastos; malapot; gunggong, tangá. Grossness, n. [grósnes] Rudeza, grosería. Kagaspangan, kabastusan. Grot, n. [grot] Gruta. Yungib, bitak, lunggâ. Grotto, n. [gróto] Gruta. Yungib, bitak, lunggâ. Grotesque, adj. [grótesc] Grotesco. Katwâ, kakatwâ. Ground, n. [gráund] Terreno, pavimento; tierra, pais; campo. Lapag, sahíg; lupà; parang; bukid; larangan. Groundless, adj. [gráundles] Infundado. Walâ sa katwiran. Ground plot, n. [gráund-plot] Solar, terreno. Looban, solar. Groundwork, n. [gráundwerc] Base, fundamento. Pátibayan, táyuan. Group, n. [groúp] Grupo. Pook, pulutong, bunton, katipunan. Group, v. [groúp] Agrupar. Magbunton. Grouse, n. [gráus] Gallina silvestre. Manok gubat. Grout, n. [gráut] Harina basta; hez. Masamangharina; latak. Grove, n. [grov] Arboleda, alameda, boscaje. Kahúyan; gubat. Grovel, v. [gróvl] Serpear, bajarse. Magpadausdos, bumabâ. Grow, v. [gro] Crecer, nacer. Tumubò, sumibol. Growl, n. [grául] Gruñido, refunfuño. Angil, dabog, ingos. Growl, v. [grául] Gruñir, refunfuñar. Umangil, dumabog, umingos. Growth, n. [groz] Crecimiento, produccion. Tubò, paglakí. Grub, n. [grab] Gorgojo. Bukbok. Grub, v. [grab] Desarraigar. Bunutin. Grudge, n. [gredch] Rencor, odio. Pagtatanim sa loob, poot. Grudge, v. [gredch] Repugnar. Magtanim sa loob, mapoot. Gruel, n. [griúel] Especie de caldo espeso. Parang sabaw na malapot. Gruff, adj. [graf] Ceñudo, grosero. Masungit. Gruffness, n. [gráfnes] Aspereza, severidad. Kasungitan. Grum, adj. [gram] Áspero, severo. Nakamungot. Grumble, v. [grámbl] Murmurar, refunfuñar. Bumulong-bulong, dumabog. Grumpy, adj. [grámpi] Regañon. Magagalitín. Grunt, v. [grænt] Gruñir, gemir. Dumaíng, humibik. Guana, n. Guana. Bayawak. Guarantee, n. [garantí] Garante, fiador; garantía. Ang nananagot; pananagot, pag-akò; katibayan. Guarantee, v. [garantí] Garantir. Sagután, panayûan, umakò. Guaranty, n. [garantí] Garante, fiador; garantía. Ang nananagot; pananagot, katibayan. Guard, n. [gard] Guarda, guardia. Bantay, tanod. Guard, v. [gard] Guardar, defender. Magbantay, tumanod, magsanggalang. Guarded, adj. [gárded] Mesurado, circunspecto. Malihim, maíngat. Guardian, n. [gárdian] Tutor, guardian. Tagaingat ng yaman ng ulila. Guardianship, n. [gárdianship] Tutela. Pag-iingat ng yaman ng ulila. Guava, n. Guava. Bayabas. Gubernative, adj. [guiúbernetiv] Gubernativo. Náuukol sa pámahalaan. Guerdon, n. [guerdon] Galardon, recompensa. Gantí, parangal. Guess, n. [gues] Conjetura. Turing, hulà, kurukurò. Guess, v. [gues] Conjeturar, adivinar. Tumuring, humulà. Guest, n. [guest] Huesped, convidado. Pánauhin, bisita; nanunuluyan. Guffaw, n. Carcajada. Halakhak. Guidance, n. [gáidans] Gobierno, direccion. Pamamatnugot, pamamatnubay. Guide, n. [gáid] Guia. Patnubay, patnugot. Guide, v. [gáid] Guiar, dirigir. Mamatnubay, mamatnugot. Guide-book, n. [gáid-buk] Itinerario. Aklat na sanggunian sa mga lansangan at mga bagay sa isang bayan. Guild, n. [guild] Gremio, corporacion. Samahán, kapisanan. Guile, n. [gáil] Engaño, fraude. Dayà, laláng, hibò. Guileful, adj. [gáilful] Engañoso. Magdarayà. Guileless, adj. [gáil-les] Sin engaño. Walang dayà. Guillotine, n. [guilotín] Guillotina. Pamugot ng ulo; pamutol. Guillotine, v. [guilotín] Degollar, guillotinar. Pumugot ng ulo; pumutol. Guilt, n. [guilt] Delito, culpa, crimen. Sala. Guiltless, adj. [guíltles] Inocente, libre de culpa. Walang sala. Guilty, adj. [guílti] Reo, culpable. Salarín, may-sala. Guise, n. [gáiz] Modo, manera, modales. Anyô; kilos, tindig. Guitar, n. [guitár] Guitarra. Gitara. Gulch, n. [guælch] Gloton. Masibà, matakaw. Gulf, n. [guælf] Golfo. Look. Gull, n. [guæl] Gaviota; engaño, fraude. Ibong peskador; dayà, hibò. Gull, v. [guæl] Engañar, defraudar. Magdayà, manekas. Gullet, n. [gálet] Gaznate. Lalamunan. Gullibility, n. [guælibíliti] Credulidad. Pagkamapaniwalain. Gullible, adj. [guélibl] Crédulo. Mapaniwalain. Gully, n. [guéli] Especie de foso. Tila hukay. Gully, v. [guéli] Fluir murmurando. Lumagaslas. Gully-hole, n. [guéli-jol] Sumidero. Hukay na ginawâ upang balungan ng tubig. Gulp, n. [guelp] Trago. Sakmal; lunok. Gulp, v. [guelp] Engullir, tragar. Sumakmal, lumamon; lumunok. Gum, n. [gam] Goma. Goma, dagtâ ng isang urì ng punong kahoy. Gum, n. [gam] Encía. Gilagid. Gum, v. [gam] Engomar. Gomahan, lagyan ng goma. Gummy, adj. [gámi] Gomoso. Magoma, madagtâ. Gumption, n. [gámpcion] Inteligencia, juicio. Katalinuan, kabaitan. Gun, n. [gan] Arma de fuego. Baril, almás na pumuputok. Gunner, n. [gáner] Escopetero. Mámamaril. Gunnery, n. [gáneri] Artillería. Artilyerya. Gun-powder, n. [gan-pauder] Pólvora. Pulburá. Gun-shot, n. [gánsiot] Tiro de escopeta. Putok ng baril. Gunsmith, n. [gánsmiz] Arcabucero, armero. Mámamanday ng baril. Gunstock, n. [ganstoc] Caja de escopeta. Sisidlán ng baril. Gurgle, v. [gárgl] Enjuagarse la boca. Magmumog. Gush, n. [gash] Chorro. Bugsô ng tubig, lagaslas. Gush, v. [gash] Chorrear; fluir copiosamente. Bumugsô (ang tubig), lumagaslas. Gushing, n. [gáshing] Superabundante. Pag-apaw. Gusset, n. [gáset] Cuadrado. Parisukat. Gust, n. [gast] Gusto, el sentido del paladar; soplo de aire. Lasa, lasáp; simoy ó hihip ng hangin. Gusty, adj. [gásti] Borrascoso, tempestuoso. Malakas na hangin, unos. Gut, n. [gat] Intestino. Bituka. Gut, v. [gat] Destripar. Magpalwâ ng bituka. Gutta-percha, n. Gutta-percha. Guta-percha. Gutter, n. [gáter] Canalon, gotera. Alulod, sangka. Gutter, v. [gueter] Acanalar. Mag-alulod. Guttural, adj. [gáteral] Gutural. Nauukol sa lalamunan. Guy, n. [gái] Retenido (náutica). Lubid na pangpatibay. Guzzle, v. [guezl] Beber ó comer con glotonería. Uminom ó kumain na may kayamuan. Gypsy, n. [dchípsi] Vagabundo. Hampas-lupà. Gyrate, v. [dcháiret] Girar. Umikot, umikit, uminog. Gyration, n. [dchairécion] La accion y efecto de girar. Pag-ikot, pag-ikit, pag-inog. Gyre, n. [dcháir] Giro. Ikot, ikit, inog. Gyve, v. [dcháiv] Aprisionar con grillos. Ipangaw. Gyves, n. [dchaivs] Grillos. Pángawan; pangpangaw. H H, [etch] H, [ache]. H, [ha]. Haberdasher, n. [jaboerdashoer] Mercader. Mánininda ng sarisaring káyo ó hénero. Haberdashery, n. [jáboerdasheri] Mercería, tienda de cintas, cofias, etc.. Tindahan ng mga sintas, puntas, ibp. Habiliment, n. [jabíliment] Vestido. Damít, kasuutan. Habit, n. [jábit] Habito, uso, costumbre. Gawî, asal, ugalì. Habitable, adj. [jábitabl] Habitable. Natatahanan, natitirahan. Habitation, n. [jabitécioen] Habitacion, domicilio, morada. Táhanan, tírahan. Habitual, adj. [jabíchiual] Habitual. Kinágawian, kináugalian. Habituate, v. [jabíchiuet] Habituar, acostumbrar á alguna cosa. Gawíin, ugaliin. Habitude, n. [jábitiud] Costumbre. Kaugalian, kaasalan. Hack, n. [jac] Caballo de alquiler. Kabayong páupahan. Hack, v. [jac] Tajar; cortar. Tumadtad; tumagâ, humiwà. Hackle, n. [jákl] Rastrillo. Suyod ng sinulid ó bulak. Hackle, v. [jakl] Rastrillar. Sumuyod ng sinulid ó bulak. Hackney, adj. & n. [jácni] Caballo de alquiler. Kabayong páupahan. Haft, n. [jaft] Mango, agarradero. Tatagnán, puluhan, bitbitan. Haft, v. [jaft] Poner mango á alguna cosa. Igawâ ng tatagnán ó bitbitan; lagyan ng puluhan. Hag, n. [jag] Viejarrona, hechicera. Babaing hukluban. Haggard, adj. [jáguoerd] Flaco, macilento. Payat, hilukâ. Haggle, v. [jagl] Cortar en tajadas. Magtadtad. Haggle, v. [jagl] Regatear. Tumawad. Haggler, n. [jagloer] Regaton. Mapagtawad. Hail, n. [jeíl] Granizo; saludo. Ulan na ang patak ay namumuô; batì. Hail, v. [jeíl] Granizar; saludar. Umulan ng mga patak na namumuó; bumatì. Hail, int. [jeíl] Salve!. Aba! Hail-fellow, n. [jelfeló] Compañero íntimo. Katotong kasi. Hair, n. [jeír] Pelo. Buhok, balahibo. Hairbreadth, n. [jeírbredz] Lo ancho de pelo. Ang lapad ng isang buhok. Hairless, adj. [jeírles] Pelado, calvo. Walang buhok, kalbó, panót. Hair-pin, n. [jér-pin] Alfiler para afianzar los cabellos. Ipit, pang-ipit ng buhok. Hairy, adj. [jéri] Peludo, velludo, cabelludo. Mabuhok. Halcyon, adj. [jálcioen] Quieto, tranquilo. Tahimik, walang imik. Halcyon, n. [jalcioen] Alcedon [ave]. Pangalan ng ibon. Hale, adj. [jel] Sano, vigoroso. Magaling, walang sakít. Half, adj. & n. [jaf] Medio; mitad. Kalahatì, kabyak. Half-blood, n. [jaf-blad] Medio hermano, medio hermana. Kapatid sa amá ó kapatid sa ina. Half-bred, n. [jáfbred] Mestizo, mestiza. Mestiso ó mestisa. Half-caste, n. [jáf-kast] Mestizo, mestiza. Mestiso ó mestisa. Half-wit, n. [jáf-wit] Bobo, tonto, necio. Gunggong, hangal. Hall, n. [jol] Sala, salon; casa de ayuntamiento; casa de un gremio ó colegio. Kabahayán, salas; bulwagan ng pámahalaan ó ng isang kapisanan ó ng isang páaralan. Halloo, int. [jalú] Hola!, ea!. Anó! hoy! Halloo, v. [jalú] Azuzar [á los perros en la caza]; llamar á uno gritando. Ipahagad sa aso; hiyawan, tawagin. Hollow, v. [jaló] Consagrar, reverenciar. Sambahin, igalang. Hallucination, n. [jaliusinécioen] Alucinacion. Guniguní. Halo, n. [jélo] Halo ó halon; laureola. Limbó. Halt, n. [jolt] Cojera. Pilay. Halt, v. [jolt] Cojear. Mápilay. Halter, n. [jólter] Cojo; soga, cuerda. Piláy; pangsoga, panalì. Halve, v. [jalv] Partir en dos mitades. Humatì, bumyák. Ham, n. [jam] Jamon. Hamón. Hamlet, n. [jámlet] Aldea. Nayon. Hammer, n. [jámer] Martillo. Martilyo, pamukpok. Hammer, v. [jámer] Martillar. Pumukpok. Hammock, n. [jámoc] Hamaca. Duyan. Hamper, n. [jámper] Cuévano. Kaíng, buslô. Hamper, v. [jámper] Enredar, estorbar; encestar. Gumambalà, umabala; isilid sa buslô. Hamstring, n. [jámstring] Tendon de la corva. Litid. Hamstring, v. [jámstring] Desjarretar. Litirin. Hand, n. [jend] Mano. Kamáy. Hand, v. [jend] Alargar; guiar por la mano. Umabót, mag-abót; umakay. Hand-barrow, n. [jénd-barro] Angarrillas. Arag-arag. Hand-bell, n. [jéndbel] Campanilla. Kampanilya, munting batingaw. Handbreadth, n. [jéndbredz] Palmo, lo ancho de la mano. Dangkal. Handcuff, n. [jéndkaf] Manilla, esposas. Damal sa kamáy, pang-gapos sa kamáy. Handcuff, v. [jéndkaf] Maniatar. Damalán ang kamáy, gapusin ang kamáy. Handed, adj. [jénded] Transmitido, pasado de uno á otro. Nálipat, inilipat. Handful, n. [jéndful] Manojo, puñado. Isang hayà; dakot. Handicap, n. [jándicap] Carrera ciega con caballos de peso igualado. Unahan ng mga kabayong magkakatimbang. Handicraft, n. [jándicraft] Obra manual. Kathâ ng kamay. Handily, adv. [jéndili] Mañosamente. May kagaanan. Handiness, n. [jéndines] Habilidad. Kakayahan, kaya. Handiwork, n. [jéndiwerk] Obra manual. Gáwaing kamay. Handkerchief, n. [jéndkerchif] Pañuelo. Panyô, birang. Handle, n. [jéndl] Mango, puño, asidero. Tangkay, puluhan, tatagnan, bitbitan. Handle, v. [jéndl] Palpar, manosear; manejar. Humipò, lumamas, umugit. Handling, n. [jéndling] Manejo. Paraan ng kamay. Handmaid, n. [jéndmed] Criada. Alilang babae. Handmaiden, n. [jéndmedn] Criada. Alilang babae. Handmill, n. [jéndmil] Molinillo. Pangbatí ng chocolate, molinilyo. Handsaw, n. [jéndso] Sierra de mano. Lagarè. Handsome, adj. [jéndsam] Hermoso, lindo, primoroso. Maganda, mainam, marikit. Handspike, n. [jéndspaik] Palanca. Panungkal, pangsual. Handwriting, n. [jéndraiting] Caracter de escritura. Sulat-kamay. Handy, adj. [jéndi] Manual. Magaan, kayang dalhin sa kamay. Handystroke, n. [jéndistrok] Manoton, bofeton. Suntok. Handywork, n. [jéndiwerk] Obra manual. Gáwaing-kamay. Hang, v. [jang] Colgar, suspender; ahorcar. Ibitin, isabit; isampay, ilaylay, bitayin, bigtihin. Hanger, n. [jánguer] Lo que mantiene alguna cosa colgada. Sampayan, sabitán. Hanging, n. [jéng-ing] Colgadura. Sampay, laylay, bitin. Hangman, n. [jéngman] Verdugo. Berdugo, tagabitay. Hank, n. [jank] Madeja de hilo. Madeha ng sinulid. Hanker, v. [jánker] Ansiar, apetecer. Maghangad, pumita, manabik. Hankering, n. [jánkering] Ansia, antojo. Hangad, pita, pananabik. Hap, n. [jap] Caso, ocasion; accidente. Bagay, pagkakataon; sakunâ. Hap, v. [jap] Acontecer, suceder. Mangyari, magkátaon. Hap-hazard, n. [jap-jázard] Accidente. Sakunâ. Hapless, adj. [jáples] Desgraciado, desventurado, miserable. Sawing palad, abâ, kulang palad. Haply, adv. [jápli] Quiza ó quizas. Kaipalà, marahil. Happen, v. [jápn] Acontecer, suceder. Mangyari, magkataon. Happily, adj. [jépili] Dichosamente, felizmente. May kaginghawahan. Happiness, n. [jépines] Felicidad, dicha. Ginghawa, kaginghawahan. Happy, adj. [jépi] Feliz, bienaventurado, dichoso. Maginghawa. Harangue, n. [járang] Arenga, oracion. Pangungusap, pananalitâ. Harangue, v. [járang] Arengar. Manalitâ, mangusap. Harass, v. [járas] Cansar, fatigar. Pumagod, yumamot, uminip. Harbinger, n. [járbindcher] Precursor. Nangunguna. Harbor, n. [járbor] Albergue; puerto; asilo. Kanlungan, silungán, daungán. Harbor, v. [járbor] Albergar, hospedar. Kumanglong, sumilong. Hard, adj. [jard] Duro; dificil; penoso, trabajoso; cruel, severo. Matigas, batibot, mahirap; mabagsik. Harden, v. [jardn] Endurecer (se). Magmatigas, tumigas. Hard hearted, adj. [jardjarted] Duro de corazon, insensible. Mapagmatigas na loob, walang awà. Hardihood, n. [járdijud] Atrevimiento, valor. Pangahas, tapang. Hardily, adv. [járdili] Osadamente. May kapangahasan. Hardly, adv. [járdli] Apenas, dificilmente. Bahagyâ, may kahirapan. Hardness, n. [járdnes] Dureza; dificultad. Tigas, katigasan; kahirapan. Hardship, n. [járdship] Opresión, trabajo, molestia. Hirap, pagal, kapagalan, ligalig, bagabag. Hardware, n. [járdwer] Ferretería, quinquellería. Mga bagay na pinanday. Hardy, adj. [járdi] Osado, atrevido, intrépido. Pangahas, malakas ang loob. Hare, n. [joer] Liebre. Koneho. Hare-brained, adj. [jér-brend] Atordido, atolondrado. Tulíg. Harelipped, adj. [jérlipt] Labihendido. Lawít ang labì. Harem, n. [jérem] Harem. Kinaroroonan ng mga asawa ng sultan. Hark, int. [jark] ¡He! ¡oye!. Hoy! pakinggan mo! Harlequin, n. [járlekin] Arlequin, bufon. Mapagpatawa, pusong. Harlot, n. [járlot] Ramera, puta. Masamang babae, patutot. Harm, n. [jarm] Mal, daño. Sakít, hirap, panganyayà. Harm, v. [jarm] Dañar, injuriar, ofender. Sumakít, sumirà, magpanganyayà. Harmful, adj. [jármful] Dañoso, perjudicial. Nakasasamâ, nakasasakít. Harmless, adj. [jármles] Sin daño. Hindî nakasasamâ. Harmonise, v. [jármonaiz] Ajustar, concertar. Itugmâ, ibagay sa tinig. Harmony, n. [jármoni] Armonía. Pagkakatugmâ. Harness, n. [járnes] Arreos de un caballo, guarniciones. Paningkaw. Harness, v. [járnes] Enjaezar. Magsinkaw. Harp, n. [jarp] Arpa. Alpá. Harp, v. [jarp] Tocar ó tañer el arpa. Tumugtog ng alpá. Harpist, n. [járpist] Arpista. Mánunugtog ng alpá. Harpoon, n. [járpun] Arpon. Salapáng. Harpooner, n. [jarpúner] Arponero. Mánanalapang. Harpy, n. [járpi] Arpía. Taong sakím. Harrow, n. [járro] Grada, rastro. Paragos. Harrow, v. [járro] Desmenuzar la tierra con rastro. Buhaghagin ang lupà. Harry, v. [járri] Molestar, cansar; robar. Yumamot, pumagod; mangdwit. Harsh, adv. [jarsh] Áspero; agrio; rigido, duro, austero. Maaskad, mapaklá; maasim; masungit. Harshness, n. [járshnes] Aspereza; rudeza. Askad; sungít. Hart, n. [jart] Ciervo. Usang lalake. Hartshorn, n. [jártsjorn] Cuerno de ciervo. Sungay ng usá. Harum-scarum, adv. Inconstante, precipitado. Walang tiyagâ, pabiglâ-biglâ. Harvest, n. [járvest] Cosecha; agosto. Paggapas, pag-ani. Harvest, v. [járvest] Cosechar, hacer el agosto. Gumapas, umani. Harvester, n. [járvester] Cosechero, agostero. Ang gumagapas, ang umaani. Harvest-home, n. [járvest-jum] La cancion de los segadores al tiempo de recoger las mieses. Ang pag-aawitan sa pag-aani. Hash, n. [jash] Picadillo, jigote. Isang lutuíng tinadtad. Hash, v. [jash] Picar, hacer pedazos menudos alguna cosa. Tadtarín. Hasp, n. [jasp] Aldaba de candado. Seradura, kandado. Hasp, v. [jasp] Cerrar con aldaba. Ikandado. Haste, n. [jeíst] Priesa, presteza, precipitacion. Pagmamadalì, pagmamaliksí. Hasten, v. [jesn] Acelerar, apresurar, precipitar. Magmadali, magtumulin. Hastily, adv. [jéstili] Aceleradamente, apresuradamente. May kadalian. Hastiness, n. [jéstines] Prieza, presteza, prontitud. Dali, liksí, tulin. Hasty, adj. [jésti] Pronto, apresurado. Madalî, matulin, maliksi. Hat, n. [jet] Sombrero. Sombrero, salakot. Hatch, n. [jatch] Pollada, nidada. Halimhim, pagpisâ ng itlog. Hatch, v. [jatch] Empollar. Humalimhim, pumisâ. Hatchet, n. [jáchit] Destral, hacha pequeña. Palataw, munting palakol. Hate, n. [jeít] Odio, aborrecimiento. Poot, yamot. Hate, v. [jeít] Odiar, detestar. Mapoot, yumamot. Hateful, adj. [jétful] Aborrecible, malévolo, detestable. Kapootpoot, nakayayamot. Hatred, n. [jétred] Odio, aborrecimiento. Poot, yamot. Hatter, n. [jétter] Sombrerero. Magsosombreró. Haughtily, adj. [jótili] Orgullosamente. May pagkapalalò. Haughtiness, n. [jótines] Orgullo, altivez. Kahambugan, kapalaluan. Haughty, adj. [jóti] Altanero, altivo, orgulloso. Hambog, palalò, mayabang. Haul, n. [jol] Estiron. Hila, baltak, batak. Haul, v. [jol] Tirar, arrastrar con violencia. Humila, bumaltak; bumatak. Haum, n. [jom] Paja, rastrojo. Dayami. Haunch, n. [janch] Anca. Pigî. Haunt, n. [jant] Guarida; hábito, costumbre. Yungib; gawî, asal, ugalì. Haunt, v. [jant] Frecuentar, rondar. Lumagì, tumanod. Have, v. [jev] Haber, tener, poseer. Magka, magkaroon, mayroon. Haven, n. [jevn] Puerto, abrigo, asilo. Daungán, kanlungan. Haversack, n. [jáversak] Saco basto para llevar viveres. Balutan ng pagkain. Havoc, n. [jávoc] Ruina, destruccion. Pagkasirà, pagkawasak. Haw, n. [jo] Balbucencia. Pagkautal. Haw, v. [jo] Tartamudear. Umutal, mautal. Hawk, n. [joc] Halcon. Lawin. Hawk, v. [joc] Hacer con halcon; hacer esfuerzo para arrojar los esputos. Manglawin; dumabak. Hawk-eyed, adj. [jocáid] El que tiene la vista penetrante. Matalas ang matá. Hawser, n. [jóser] Guindaleza. Malaking lubid. Hay, n. [jey] Heno, yerba seca. Tuyong damo. Haycock, n. [jéykok] Pila de heno. Salansan ng tuyong damo. Hayloft, n. [jéyloft] Henil. Taguan ng damong tuyô. Hayrick, n. [jéyric] Pila de heno. Buntong ng damong tuyô, mandalâ. Haystack, n. [jéstak] Pila de heno. Mandalâ. Hazard, n. [jázard] Casualidad, acaso. Pagkakataon, kapalaran. Hazard, v. [jázard] Arriesgar, aventurar. Mangahas, magbaka-sakalì. Hazardous, adj. [jázerdes] Peligroso, arriesgado. Mapanganib. Haze, n. [jeíz] Niebla. Ambon. Hazel, adj. [jézel] Castaño. Kuyomanggí. Hazy, adj. [jézi] Anieblado, nublado. Maulap. He, pron. [ji] Él. Siya (lalake). Head, n. [jed] Cabeza; jefe, principal. Ulo, punò; pangulo. Head, v. [jed] Gobernar, dirigir, degollar. Mamunò; pumugot ng ulo. Headache, n. [jédek] Dolor de cabeza. Sakít ng ulo. Headdress, n. [jédres] Cofia, tocado. Damit sa ulo. Headland, n. [jédloend] Cabo, promontorio, punta. Puntá, dungot. Headless, adj. [jédles] Degollado; ignorante. Pugót ang ulo; hangal, tunggak. Headlong, adj. [jédlong] Temerario, imprudente. Pangahas, walang bait. Headpiece, n. [jédpiz] Morrion, casco, yelmo. Suot sa ulo. Head quarters, n. [jéd-cuarters] Cuartel general. Úwian ng lahat ng kawal. Headsman, n. [jédzman] Degollador, verdugo. Berdugo, mámumugot ng ulo. Headspring, n. [jédspring] Fuente, origen. Bukál, simulâ. Headstall, n. [jédstol] Cabezada del freno. Kabesada. Headstrong, adj. [jédstrong] Testarudo, obstinado. Matigas ang ulo. Headway, n. [jédwey] Adelantamiento de navio; buen éxito. Lakad na patuloy ng sasakyan; mabuting kapalaran. Heady, adj. [jédi] Temerario, obstinado. Pangahas, matigas ang ulo. Heal, v. [jil] Sanar, curar. Magpagalíng, gumamot. Health, n. [jelz] Salud, sanidad. Kagalingan, kaigihan ng katawan. Healthful, adj. [jélzful] Sano, saludable, salubre. Nakagagaling, nakabubuti sa katawan. Healthy, adj. [jélzi] Sano. Magaling. Heap, n. [jip] Monton. Bunton, salansan. Heap, v. [jip] Amontonar, acumular. Magbunton, magsalansan. Hear, v. [jir] Oir, entender; escuchar. Marinig; duminig, umulinig. Hearer, n. [jírer] Oyente, oidor. Tagadinig, nakikinig. Hearing, n. [jíring] Oido; audiencia. Pakinig, pangdinig, diníg. Hearken, v. [jarcn] Escuchar, atender. Makinig; pakinggan; manainga; dinggin. Hearsay, n. [jírsey] Rumor, fama. Alingawngaw, salisalitaan, balità. Hearse, n. [joers] Ataud, féretro. Kabaong, ataul. Heart, n. [jart] Corazon, interior. Pusò, loob, kalooban. Heart-breaking, n. [járt-briking] Congoja, angustia. Pagkabagbag ng pusò. Heart-felt, adj. [járt-felt] Sentido en el fondo del corazon. Taos sa pusò, buhat sa pusò. Hearth, n. [jarz] Fogon. Pugón, apuyán. Heartily, adv. [jártili] Sinceramente, condialmente. Ng boong pusò. Heartiness, n. [jártines] Sinceridad, cordialidad. Pagtatapat-loob. Heartless, adj. [jártles] Cobarde; pusilánime; inclemente. Dwag, takót; walang awà, walang habag. Heartlessness, n. [jartlesnes] Falta de ánimo. Kahinaan ng loob. Heart-rending, n. [járt-rending] Agudo, penetrante. Taos sa loob, damdamin ng kalooban. Heart-sick, n. [jártsic] Dolorido, afligido. Panglaw, lumbay, hambal. Hearty, adj. [járti] Sincero, alegre. Tapat, masayá. Heat, n. [jit] Ardor, calor. Init. Heat, v. [jit] Calentar. Painitin; mag-init. Heathen, adj. [jidzn] Gentílico. Hindî kristyano. Heathen, n. [jidzn] Gentil, pagano. Taong hindî ebreo. Heathenish, adj. [jídznish] Gentílico. Nauukol sa hindî ebreo ó hindî taga Israel. Heave, n. [jiv] Esfuerzo para levantarse; elevacion. Pagbangon, pagtaas. Heave, v. [jiv] Alzar, levantar alguna cosa del suelo. Bumuhat, umalsá, itaas, ibangon. Heaven, n. [jevn] Cielo, firmamento. Langit. Heavenly, adj. [jévnli] Celeste, divino. Nauukol sa langit. Heavenly, adv. [jévnli] Celestialmente. May kinalaman sa langit. Heavenward, adv. [jévnward] Hácia el cielo. Sa dakong langit. Heaver, n. [jíver] Alza prima, el que levanta. Pang-alsá, taga-taas. Heavily, adj. [jévili] Pesadamente. May kabigatan. Heavy, adj. [jévi] Grave, pesado. Mabigat, matindí. Hebrew, adj. [jíbru] Hebráico. Nauukol sa hudyo ó ebreo. Hebrew, n. [jíbru] Hebreo. Hudyó, ebreo. Hecatomb, n. [jécatomb] Hecatomba. Paghahaing ginagawâ noong una sa kanilang mga dyos. Hectic, adj. & n. [jéctic] Hético. Natútuyô; lagnat, tisis. Hector, n. [jéctor] Fanfarron. Hambog, mayabang. Hedge, n. [jedch] Seto, vallado. Bakod. Hedge, v. [jedch] Cercar con un seto. Bakuran. Hedge row, n. [jédch-ro] La serie de árboles ó arbustos en los cercados. Mga punong kahoy na nakabakod. Heed, n. [jid] Cuidado, atencion, precaucion. Ingat, lingap, kalingâ, pagtingín. Heed, v. [jid] Atender, observar, notar. Mag-ingat, lumingap, kumalingâ, tignan. Heedful, adj. [jídful] Vigilante, atento, cuidadoso. Maingat, mabait. Heedless, adj. [jídles] Descuidado, negligente. Pabayâ, walang bahalà. Heel, n. [jil] Talon. Sakong. Heel, v. [jil] Taconear. Tumadyak. Heft, n. [jeft] Esfuerzo, peso. Sikap; bigat. Heifer, n. [jéfer] Becerra, ternera, vaquillo. Bakang dumalaga. Height, n. [jeít] Altura, elevacion. Taas, tayog. Heighten, v. [jeítn] Realzar, exaltar. Itaas, pataasin, patayugin. Heinous, adj. [jénes] Atroz, odioso, abominable. Kakilakilabot, nakapopoot, nakaririmarim. Heir, n. [jeír] Heredero. Ang nagmamana [lalake]. Heirdom, n. [jeírdom] Herencia. Pagmamana. Heiress, n. [jeíres] Heredera. Ang nagmamana [babae]. Heirloom, n. [jeírlum] Vínculo de bienes muebles. Mana. Hell, n. [jel] Infierno. Impyerno. Hellish, adj. [jélish] Infernal, malvado. Nauukol sa impyerno. Helm, n. [jelm] Timon. Timon, ugit ng sasakyan. Helmet, n. [jélmet] Yelmo. Panakíp sa ulo't mukhâ. Help, n. [jelp] Ayuda, auxilio, asistencia, apoyo. Tulong, abuloy, saklolo. Help, v. [jelp] Ayudar, asistir, socorrer. Tumulong, umabuloy, sumaklolo. Helper, n. [jélper] Auxiliador, socorredor. Tagatulong, mapagtulong, mapag-abuloy, mapagsaklolo. Helpful, adj. [jélpful] Util. Nakatutulong. Helpless, adj. [jélples] Desamparado, abandonado. Walang tumulong, walang mag-ampon. Helpmate, n. [jélpmet] Compañero, asistente. Katulong, katwang, kasama. Helter skelter, adv. [jélter-skelter] A trochemoche, en desorden. Pasabogsabog. Helve, n. [jelv] Mango, astil de hacha. Puluhan ng palakol. Hem, n. [jem] Ribete. Lupì, tutop. Hem, v. [jem] Ribetear. Lupiin, tutupán. Hemisphere, n. [jémisfir] Hemisferio. Kalahating bilog. Hemorrhage, n. [jémeredch] Hemorragia. Balinguyngoy, agas ng dugô. Hemp, n. [jemp] Abaca. Abaká. Hen, n. [jen] Gallina. Inahíng manok. Hence, adv. [jens] De aquí, por esto. Dahil dito, anopa't. Henceforth, adv. [jénsforz] De aqui en adelante, en lo venidero. Mulâ ngayon, buhat ngayon. Hen coop, n. [jén-cup] Gallinero. Tangkal, kulungan ng manok. Her, pron. [jer] Su, de ella. Kanya, niya [babae]. Herald, n. [jérald] Heraldo, precursor. Tagapagpauna. Heraldic, adj. [jeráldic] Heráldico. Nauukol sa tagapagpauna. Herb, n. [jerb] Yerba; legumbre. Damó; gulay. Herbage, n. [jérbedch] Herbaje. Damó. Herbalist, n. [jérbalist] Herbolario. Manggagamot sa pamamagitan ng damó. Herculean, adj. [jerkiúlian] Hercúleo. Lubhang malakas. Herd, n. [jerd] Manada, hato, rebaño, grey. Kawan, kában. Herd, v. [jerd] Ir en manadas ó hatos, asociarse. Magkawankawan, magsasama. Herdsman, n. [jérdsman] Guarda de ganado. Tagapag-alagà ng kawan, pastor. Here, adv. [jiér] Aquí, acá. Dito, dini. Hereabout or Hereabouts, adv. [jiérebaut(s)] Aquí al rededor. Dito sa palibot. Hereafter, adv. [jiérafter] En el tiempo venidero, en lo futuro. Magpamulâ ngayon, mulâ ngayon. Hereafter, n. [jiérafter] Estado venidero. Ang hinaharap. Hereat, adv. [jierat] A este ó esta, por eso. Dahil dito. Hereby, adv. [jiérbay] Por esto. Dahil dito. Heriditary, adj. [jiréditari] Hereditario. Minamana. Herefrom, adv. [jiérfrom] De aquí. Mulâ rito. Herein, adv. [jíerin] En esto, aquí dentro. Dito ngâ, sa loob nito. Hereinto, adv. [jieríntu] En esto, aquí dentro. Dito ngâ, sa loob nito. Hereof, adv. [jieróf] En esto, de aquí. Mulâ rito. Hereon, adv. [jierón] Sobre esto. Dito sa. Heresy, n. [jéresi] Herejía. Malíng pananampalataya. Heretic, adv. [jéretic] Hereje. May maling pananampalataya. Hereto, adv. [jiértu] A esto. Dito sa; hanggang dito. Heretofore, adv. [jiertufór] En otro tiempo, antes; hasta aquí. Noong una; hanggang ngayon. Hereunto, adv. [jierantú] A esto. Dito sa, hanggang dito. Hereupon, adv. [jierapón] Sobre esto. Dahil dito. Herewith, adv. [jierwíz] Con esto. Dito ngâ, dahil dito. Heritage, n. [jéritedch] Herencia. Mamanahín. Hermetic, adj. [jermétic] Hermético. Lubhang sarado. Hermit, n. [jérmit] Ermitaño, anacoreta. Ermitanyo, taong nananahan ng hiwalay sa madlâ. Hermitage, n. [jérmitedch] Ermita. Dakong tahanan ng ermitanyo. Hero, n. [jíro] Héroe. Bayani. Heroic(al), adj. [jiróic(al)] Heróico. Bayani. Heroine, n. [jíroin] Heroina. Babaing bayani. Heroism, n. [jiróism] Heroismo. Kabayanihan, pagkabayani. Heron, n. [jéron] Garza. Tagak. Heronry, n. [jéronri] Lugar para criar las garzas. Dakong pinag-aalagaan sa mga tagak. Hers, pron. [jers] Suyo, de ella. Kanya, niya (babae). Herself, pron. [jersélf] Ella misma. Siya man, siya rin (babae). Hesitate, v. [jésitet] Vacilar, dudar. Mag-alanganin, mag-alangan. Hesitation, n. [jesitécien] Hesitacion, duda, perplejidad. Pag-aalanganin, pag-aalangan. Heteroclite, adj. & n. [jéteroclait] Heteróclito, irregular. Walang tuos, walang ayos. Heterogeneous, adj. [jeterodchínies] Heterogenio. Halohalò, samotsamot. Hew, v. [jiu] Tajar, cortar con hacha; leñar. Magsibak, magsipak; mangahoy. Hewer, n. [jíuer] Leñador. Mángangahoy. Hexagon, n. [jécsagon] Hexágono. Plano na may anim na gilid. Hexangular, adj. [jecsánguiular] Lo que tiene seis ángulos. May anim na sulok. Hey, int. [je] ¡He!. Ehé. Heyday, n. [jéde] Alegría, gozo. Sayá, galak. Hiatus, n. [jáietes] Grieta, hendidura. Bitak, pwang, gwang. Hibernal, adj. [jaibérnal] Invernizo, invernal. Nauukol sa tagginaw. Hibernian, n. [jaibérnian] Irlandes. Irlandés, taga Irlanda. Hiccough, n. [jícap] Hipo. Sinók. Hiccough, v. [jícap] Padecer hipo. Magsinók. Hidden, adj. [jídn] Oculto, recóndito. Lingíd, tagô. Hiddenly, adv. [jídnli] Escondidamente, secretamente. Palingíd, patagô, lihim. Hide, n. [jáid] Cuero, piel. Katad; kwero, balát. Hide, v. [jáid] Esconder, ocultar, encubrir. Maglingíd, magtagô, maglihim. Hideous, adj. [jídies] Repugnante, feo, horrible. Pangit, kalait-lait. Hiding-place, n. [jáiding-pleís] Escondite, escondrijo. Taguan, lunggâ. Hie, v. [jai] Darse priesa. Magmadalî. Hierarchy, n. [jáierarki] Jerarquía. Taas ng ibang kalagayan ng mga anghel at mga parè. Hieroglyphic, n. [jairoglífic] Jeroglífico. Larawang titik na may kahulugan. Higgle, v. [jigl] Regatear. Tumawad. High, adj. [jai] Alto, elevado. Mataas, matayog; bunyî. High, adv. [jai] Arriba. Sa itaas. High-altar, n. [jai-altar] Altar mayor. Pangulong dambanà. High-born, n. [jái-born] Noble, ilustre por nacimiento. Anák-mahal, anák-ginoo. High-coloured, adj. [jai-colord] Subido de color. Mapusyaw (na kulay). High-flown, adj. [jai-flon] Altivo, orgulloso. Mapagmataas, palalò. Highland, n. [jáilend] Tierras montañosas. Lupang palabundukin. Highlander, n. [jáilander] Montañez. Taga bundok, taga itaas. Highly, adv. [jáili] Altamente, en sumo grado. May kataasan, nápakainam. High-minded, adj. [jai-mainded] Arrogante, de elevados pensamientos. Magilas; mabait. Highness, n. [jáines] Altura, elevacion, alteza. Taas, kataasan; kamahalan. Highroad, n. [jáirod] Camino real. Langsangang tuloy-tuluyan. High-spirited, adj. [jái-spirited] Osado, atrevido. Pangahas. Hight, n. [jáit] Altura. Taas. Highway, n. [jáiwe] Camino real. Langsangang tuloy-tuluyan. Highwayman, n. [jáiueman] Bandolero, salteador de caminos. Tulisan, manghaharang, mangdadambong. Hilarious, adj. [jilárius] Alegre. Masayá. Hilarity, n. [jiláriti] Alegria, regocijo. Sayá, galak, kasayahan, kagalakan. Hill, n. [jil] Collado, cuesta, colina. Buról, munting bundok. Hillock, n. [jíloc] Colina, montecillo. Buról, munting bundok. Hilly, adj. [jíli] Montañoso. Maburól. Hilt, n. [jilt] Puño de espada. Puluhan ng tabak. Him, pron. [jim] Le, á él. Sa kanya (lalake). Himself, pron. [jimsélf] Á él mismo. Sa kanya ngâ, sa kanya man, sa kanya rin (lalake). Hind, adj. [jáind] Trasero, posterior. Likod, likuran, hulí, hulihán. Hind, n. [jáind] Cierva. Usang babae. Hinder, adj. [jáinder] Posterior, trasero. Likuran, hulihán. Hinder, v. [jínder] Impedir, embarazar, poner obstáculos. Umabala, gumambalà, humadlang, sumansalà. Hinderance, n. [jínderans] Impedimento, obstáculo. Abala, gambalà. Hindermost, adj. [jáindermost] Postrero. Káhulihulihan. Hindmost = hindermost. Hindoo, n. [jindú] El natural del Hindostan. Taga India, taga Indostan. Hindrance = Hinderance. Hinge, n. [jindch] Gozne, bisagra. Bisagra, pangkawing. Hinge, v. [jindch] Engoznar. Ikawíng. Hint, n. [jint] Insinuacion. Uyok, udyok, sulsol. Hint, v. [jint] Insinuar. Mag-uyok, mag-udyok, magsulsol. Hip, n. [jip] Cadera. Pigî. Hippodrome, n. [jípodrom] Hipódromo. Dakong pinaglalaruan ng páunahan ng kabayo. Hipshot, adj. [jípshot] Descaderado. Hingkod. Hire, n. [jáir] Alquiler, salario. Upa, bayad. Hire, v. [jáir] Alquilar, asalariar. Umupa; bumayad; upahan, bayaran. Hireling, n. [jáirling] Jornalero, hombre mercenario. Mang-aaraw, nagpapaupa. Hirsute, adj. [jirsiút] Hirsuto, velludo. Mabalahibo, mabulo. His, pron. [jis] Su, suyo, de él. Kanya, niya (lalake). Hiss, v. [jis] Silbar. Sumutsot, sumipol; humuni. Hist, int. [jist] ¡Chito! ó ¡chiton!. Sht...! Historian, n. [jistórian] Historiador. Mánanalaysay, mánunulat ng kasaysayan. Historic, adj. [jistóric] Histórico. Nauukol sa kasaysayan. Historical = Historic. History, n. [jístori] Historia. Kasaysayan, istorya. Hit, n. [jit] Golpe; alcance. Hampas, bugbog; tamà. Hit, v. [jit] Pegar, golpear; acertar. Humampas, pumalò, bumugbog; tumamà. Hitch, n. [jitch] Vuelta de cabo; impedimento. Buhól; kapansanan. Hitch, v. [jitch] Enganchar. Magsingkaw. Hither, adv. [jídzer] Acá, á este fin. Dito, dini. Hitherto, adv. [jídzertu] Hasta aquí, hasta ahora. Hanggang dito, hanggang ngayon. Hive, n. [jáiv] Colmena, enjambre. Bahay-pukyutan. Hive, v. [jáiv] Enjambrar. Magtipon, mag-ipon. Ho, int. [jo] He, mira, hola!. Hoy! Hoa, int. = Ho. Hoar, adj. [jor] Blanco, cano. Maputî, kulay uban. Hoard, n. [jord] Monton, tesoro escondido. Bonton, salansan; yamang nakatagò. Hoard, v. [jord] Atesorar, acumular. Magtipon, magipon, mag-bunton, magsalansan. Hoarfrost, n. [jórfrost] Escarcha. Hamog na namumuô. Hoarse, adj. [jors] Ronco, enronquecido. Paós, namamalat. Hoarseness, n. [jórsnes] Ronquera. Páos, pamamaos. Hoary, adj. [jóri] Blanco, blanquecino, cano. Maputî, úbanin. Hoax, n. [jocs] Engaño; burla. Dayà; birò. Hoax, v. [jocs] Engañar, burlar. Dumayà; bumirò. Hobble, v. [jobl] Cojear, andar cojeando. Mápilay, humingkod. Hobble, n. [jobl] Cojera. Pílay. Hobbyhorse, n. [jóbijors] Caballico con que juegan los niños. Kabakabayuhan. Hobgoblin, n. [jobgóblin] Duende, espectro. Dwende, katatakután. Hod, n. [jod] El arteson en que el peon lleva el mortero al albañil. Panghakot ng laryó, sakì. Hoe, n. [jo] Azada, azadon. Asarol. Hoe, v. [jo] Cavar con azada ó azadon. Mag-asarol. Hog, n. [jog] Puerco, cerdo. Baboy. Hoggish, adj. [jóguish] Porcuno. Salaulà. Hoiden, n. [jóidn] Mozo agreste. Bataang musmos. Hoist, v. [jóist] Alzar, izar. Magtaas, bumuhat; buhatin, itaas. Hold, n. [jold] Presa. Hawak, tangan. Hold, v. [jold] Asir, agarrar, mantener, sostener. Hawakan, tagnan, pigilan. Hole, n. [jol] Agujero, cavidad, hueco. Butas, pwang, hukay. Holiday, n. [jólidey] Dia de fiesta. Pistá, araw na pangilin. Holiness, n. [jólines] Santidad, beatitud. Kasantusan, kabanalan. Holland, n. [jóland] Holanda. Olanda. Hollow, adj. [jólo] Hueco. Walang lamán, gwang. Hollow, n. [jólo] Cavidad; caverna. Hukay; lunggâ. Hollow, v. [jólo] Excavar, ahuecar. Humukay, bumutas. Holster, n. [jólster] Funda de pistola. Kaloban ng rebolber. Holy, adj. [jóli] Santo, pio. Banal, santó. Holy water, n. [jóli-water] Agua bendita. Agwa bendita. Holy week, n. [jóli uik] Semana santa. Mahal na araw. Homage, n. [jómedch] Homenaje, reverencia. Galang, pitagan. Homage, v. [jómedch] Reverencia. Gumalang. Home, n. [jum] Casa propia, morada patria. Bahay na úwian, tahanan, inang-bayan. Home, adv. [jum] A su propia casa; á su tierra ó pais. Úuwî. Homeless, adj. [jómles] Sin casa ni hogar. Walang sukat mátahanan. Homely, adj. [jómli] Casero. Pangbahay; hindî mapagpanaog. Homemade, adj. [jómmeíd] Hecho en casa. Yarì sa bahay. Homesick, adj. [jómsik] Nostálgico. Balisá, ibig sa sarili. Homespun, adj. [jómspun] Casero. Pangbahay. Homestead, n. [jomsted] Tierra de labranza. Lupang bukirín. Homeward, adj. [jómward] Hácia casa. Sa dakong sarili, sa gawíng sarili. Homicidal, adj. [jómisidal] Homicida. Mámamatay-tao. Homicide, n. [jómisid] Homicidio. Pagpalay ng tao. Homilist, n. [jómilist] El predicador que predica homilias. Parè ó pastor na tagapagsermon. Homogeneous, adj. [jomodchínies] Homogéneo. Magkakaurì ó magkakabagay. Hone, n. [jon] Piedra de afilar navajas de afeitar; piedra amoladera. Hasaán, tálaran. Honest, adj. [jónest] Honesto, justo, casto. Matimtiman, mahinahon, mabait, tapat na loob. Honesty, n. [jónesti] Honestidad, justicia. Katimtimang-loob, hinahon, bait. Honey, n. [jóni] Miel. Pulot-pukyutan, pulot. Honey-comb, n. [jóni-comb] Panal. Bahay-pukyutan. Honey moon, n. [jóni-mun] Luna de miel, primer mes de casados. Mga unang araw ng bagong kasal. Honor, n. [jónor] Honra, honor. Dangal, karangalan; paunlak, puri, kapurihan. Honor, v. [jónor] Honrar, reverenciar, respetar. Magparangal, magpaunlak, pumuri, gumalang. Honorable, adj. [jonórabl] Honorable. Marangal, karangal-dangal. Honorary, n. [jonórari] Honorario. Pangdangal; bayad. Hood, n. [jud] Caperuza. Panakíp sa ulo. Hoodwink, v. [júdwinc] Vendar á uno los ojos; engañar. Magpiríng; mangdayà. Hoof, n. [juf] El casco de las bestias caballares. Kuko ng kabayo, kuko ng hayop. Hook, n. [juk] Anzuelo, garfio, gancho. Tagâ, simà, kawíng, kalawít. Hook, v. [juk] Enganchar; atrapar, engatuzar. Kumalawit; kibitín. Hooked, adj. [juct] Enganchado, encorvado. Baluktot. Hoop, n. [jup] Cerco de barril. Pamigkis ng barriles, buklod. Hoop, v. [jup] Cercar. Bigkisin ang barriles. Hoot, n. [jut] Grito, ruido. Sigaw, hiyaw; ingay. Hoot, v. [jut] Gritar. Sumigaw, humiyaw. Hop, n. [jop] Salto, brinco. Lukso, kandirít. Hop, v. [jop] Saltar, cojear de un pie. Kumandirít, lumuksó, lumundag. Hope, n. [jop] Esperanza. Pag asa, asa. Hope, v. [jop] Esperar. Umasa. Hopeful, adj. [jópful] Esperanzado. Maaasahan. Hopeless, adj. [jóples] Desesperado. Walang pag-asa. Horde, n. [jord] Horda, ranchería. Bunton ng tao. Horizontal, adj. [jorizóntal] Orizontal. Pahigâ. Horn, n. [jorn] Cuerno. Sungay. Horned, adj. [jórned] Cornudo. May sungay, sungayán. Hornet, n. [jórnet] Tábano, abejon. Putaktí, bubuyog. Horn pipe, n. [jorn páip] Gaita. Tambulì. Horny, adj. [jórni] Hecho de cuerno. Yaring sungay. Horrible, adj. [jóribl] Horrible, terrible. Kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak, katakot-takot. Horrid, adj. [jórrid] Horrible, tenebroso. Nakakikilabot, nakasisindak. Horrific, adj. [jórrific] Horrífico, horroroso. Kasindaksindak, katakot-takot, kakilakilabot. Horror, n. [jóror] Horror, terror, espanto. Sindak, kilabot. Horse, n. [jors] Caballo. Kabayo. Horseback, n. [jórsbek] Lomo de caballo. Likod ng kabayo. Horsefly, n. [jórsflai] Moscarda. Bangaw. Horsehair, n. [jorsjeír] Crin de caballo. Buhok ng kabayo. Horselaugh, n. [jórslaf] Carcajada. Halakhak. Horseleech, n. [jórslich] Sanguijuela. Lintâ. Horseman, n. [jórsman] Jinete. Hinete, marunong sumakay sa kabayo. Horseplay, n. [jórspley] Chanza pesada. Masamang birò. Horserace, n. [jórsreis] Carrera de caballos. Páunahan ng kabayo. Horse shoe, n. [jórs siu] Herradura de caballo. Bakal sa paa ng kabayo. Horsewhip, n. [jórswip] Látigo. Panghagupit, látigo. Horticulture, n. [jórtikulchur] Horticultura. Paghahalaman. Horticulturist, n. [jortikúlchurist] Hortelano, jardinero. Maghahalamán, ang naghahalaman. Hosanna, int. [josána] Hosana. Onsana, máligtas ka nawâ! Hose, n. [jos] Medias. Medyas. Hosier, n. [jósier] Mediero. Ang nagtitinda ng medyas. Hospitable, adj. [jóspitabl] Hospitalario, caritativo. Mapagpatuloy, maawain, magandang loob. Hospital, n. [jóspital] Hospital. Ospital, bahay-págamutan. Hospitality, n. [jospitáliti] Hospitalidad. Pagpapatuloy, pagmamagandang-loob. Host, n. [jost] Huesped, mesonero, posadero; hueste, ejército. May-bahay, may-pátuluyan, may pánauhin; hukbó. Hostage, n. [jóstedch] Rehen. Taong náiiwan sa kaaway na siyang nananagot sa káyarian. Hostess, n. [jóstes] Posadero, mesonera, huéspeda. Babaing may pátuluyang bahay. Hostile, n. [jóstil] Hostil. Nanghahamón. Hostility, n. [jostíliti] Hostilidad. Hamon. Hostler, n. [jóstler] Mozo de paja y cebada. Sota, tagapag-alagà ng kabayo. Hot, adj. [jot] Cálido, caliente. Mainit, nakapapasò. Hot-bed, n. [jot-bed] Cuadro de huerta cubierto de capas de estiercol. Punlaan. Hotel, n. [jótel] Hotel. Otél. Hot-headed, adj. [jot-jéded] Fogoso, colérico. Mainit ang ulo. Hothouse, n. [jótjaus] Estufa. Apuyán. Hotly, adv. [jótli] Con calor; violentamente. May kainitan; masidhî, mapusok. Hotness, n. [jótnes] Calor, furor. Init, pusok. Hotspur, n. [jotspoer] Colérico, exaltado. Mainit ang ulo. Hough, n. [joc] Jarete. Kalamnan ng bintî. Hound, n. [jáund] Sabueso. Asong galgo. Hound, v. [jáund] Perseguir con perros de caza. Pangasuhin, ipahabol sa asong pangaso. Hour, n. [áuar] Hora. Oras. Hourly, adv. [áuarli] A cada hora. Oras-oras. House, n. [jáus] Casa, familia. Bahay, sangbahayan. House-breaker, n. [jáus-briker] Ladron. Magnanakaw. House-hold, n. [jáus-jold] Familia. Sangbahayan. House-holder, n. [jáus-jolder] Amo de la casa, padre de familia. Punò ng sangbahayan. House-keeper, n. [jáus-kíper] Amo de llaves. Taga ingat ng bahay, bantay-bahay. Housekeeping, n. [jáuskiping] Gobierno doméstico. Pamamahalà sa bahay. Housemaid, n. [jáusmed] Criada de casa. Alilang babae sa bahay. Housewife, n. [jáuswaif] Ama de una casa, madre de familia. Ina ng sang mag-anak. Hovel, n. [jóvel] Choza, cabaña. Dampâ, kubo. Hover, v. [jóver] Colgar; dudar; rondar. Magbitin; mag-alanganin; bumantay. How, adv. [jaw] Como, cuan, cuanto. Paano; pagka..., kay.... Howbeit, adv. [jaubíit] No obstante, sin embargo. Gayon man, bagaman. However, adv. [jáuever] Como quiera, en todo caso, con todo. Yamang..., gayon man. Howsoever, adv. [jausoéver] Como quiera, en todo caso, con todo. Yamang..., gayon man. Howl, n. [jául] Aullido, alarido, rugido. Kahól, tahól, ungal, hagulhol. Howl, v. [jául] Aullar, dar alaridos, rugir. Kumahól, tumahól, umangal, humagulhol. Howling, n. [jáuling] Aullido, grito, lamento. Kahol, angal, hagulhol. Hubbub, n. [jéboeb] Grito, alboroto. Hiyaw, kaingay. Huckle-backed, adj. [jácl-bact] Jorobado. Kubà. Huckster, n. [jácster] Revendedor. Maglalakô. Huddle, n. [jadl] Tropel; confusion, baraúnda. Bunton; kaguló. Huddle, v. [jadl] Confundir. Gumuló. Hue, n. [jiu] Color, tez del rostro. Kulay, kutis ng mukhâ. Huff, n. [joef] Arrebato, cólera. Pusok ng kalooban; galit, poot. Huff, v. [joef] Bufar, bravear; patear de enfado. Maghambog, magmayabang; magpakapusok. Huffish, adj. [jéfish] Arrogante, petulante, insolente. Hambog, mayabang, walang galang. Hug, n. [joeg] Abrazo apretado. Yapos. Hug, v. [joeg] Abrazar. Yumapos, yumakap. Huge, adj. [jiudch] Vasto, enorme. Malakí. Hugeness, n. [jiúdchnes] Grandeza enorme. Kalakhan. Hulk, n. [joelc] Casco de la embarcacion; ponton. Katawan ng sasakyan; punton. Hull, n. [joel] Cáscara; casco de la embarcacion. Balat; katawan ng sasakyan. Hull, v. [joel] Mondar, quitar á los frutos su cáscara. Magtalop, mag-alis ng balat, tumuklap. Hum, n. [joem] Zumbido. Haginit. Hum, v. [joem] Zumbar. Humaginit. Human, adj. [jiúman] Humano. Nauukol sa tao. Humane, adj. [jiumén] Humano, afable. Maawain, mahabagin. Humanity, n. [jiumániti] Humanidad. Sangkatauhan, pagkatao. Humanize, v. [jiúmanaiz] Humanizar. Papagtaglayin ng asal tao. Humankind, n. [jiúmankaind] El linaje humano. Angkan ng sangkatauhan. Humble, adj. [jámbl] Humilde, bajo. Mababang loob, mapagpakumbabâ. Humble, v. [jámbl] Humillar, postrar. Magpangayupapà, humiya. Humble-bee, n. [jâmbl-bi] Zángano. Kamumo. Humbleness, n. [jámblnes] Humildad. Kababaan ng loob. Humbly, adv. [jámbli] Con humildad. May kababaang loob. Humbug, n. [jámboeg] Engaño, embuste. Dayà, kahambugan, kayabangan. Humbug, v. [jámboeg] Engañar, alucinar. Magdayà, maghambog. Humdrum, n. [joemdrám] Lerdo, estúpido, tonto, necio. Hangal, ungas, tangá, gunggong. Humid, adj. [jiúmid] Húmedo. Basâ, halomigmig. Humidity, n. [jiúmiditi] Humedad. Pagkabasâ, pagkahalomigmig. Humiliate, v. [jiúmiliet] Humillar. Magpangayupapà. Humiliation, n. [jiúmiliecioen] Humillacion. Pangangayupapà, pagpapakumbabâ. Humility, n. [jiumíliti] Humildad, sumision. Kababaang-loob, pagpapakababà. Humming, n. [jáming] Zumbido. Haginit. Hummock, n. [jámoc] Montecito, colina. Buról, munting bundok. Humor, n. [júmor] Humor. Lagáy ng kalooban. Humor, v. [júmor] Complacer, dar gusto. Magbigay-loob. Humorist, n. [yúmorist] Hombre caprichoso, bufon. Mapagsisté, mapagpatawâ. Humorous, adj. [yúmores] Chistoso, placentero. Mapagpatawá, masayá. Hump, n. [jamp] Joroba, corcoba. Kakubaan, pagkakubà. Humpbacked, adj. [jámpbact] Jorobado. Kubà. Hunch, n. [janch] Codazo. Paninikó, pananabig. Hunchbacked, adj. [jánchbact] Jorobado. Kubà. Hundred, adj. & n. [jándred] Ciento; centenar. Sangdaan. Hundredth, adj [jándredz] Centésimo. Ikasangdaan. Hundredfold, adj. [jándredfold] Céntuplo. Makásangdaan. Hung-beef, n. [jáng-bif] Carne ahumada. Tapa, pindang. Hunger, n. [jánguer] Hambre. Gútom. Hunger, v. [jánguer] Hambrear. Magutom. Hungrily, adj. [jángrili] Hambrientamente. May pagkagutom. Hungry, adj. [jángri] Hambriento. Gutóm. Hunk, n. [jank] Pedazo grande. Malaking putol. Hunks, n. [janks] Hombre sordido y avaro. Taong sakím. Hunt, n. [jant] Caza. Pangangaso, panghuhuli ng hayop. Hunt, v. [jant] Cazar; perseguir; buscar. Mangaso, manghuli ng hayop; mamuntot, humanap. Hunter, n. [jánter] Cazador. Mángangaso. Hunting, n. [jánting] Caza. Pangangaso. Hunting-horn, n. [jánting-jorn] Corneta de monte. Tambulì. Huntress, n. [jántres] Cazadora. Babaing mángangaso. Huntsman, n. [jántsman] Cazador. Mángangaso. Hurdle, n. [járdl] Zarzo. Salá. Hurdle, v. [járdl] Hacer cercas de palos y mimbres. Magsalá. Hurl, v. [joerl] Tirar con violencia, arrojar. Pumukol, magpailandang. Hurricane, n. [járiken] Huracan. Unós, búhawi. Hurry, n. [jári] Precipitacion. Pagmamadalî, pagtutumulin. Hurry, v. [jári] Acelerar, apresurar, precipitar. Magmadalî, magtumulin, magmaliksí. Hurt, n. [jart] Mal, daño. Sakít, sirà. Hurt, v. [jart] Dañar, ofender. Makasakít, makasirà. Hurtful, adj. [jártful] Dañoso, dañino. Nakasasamâ, nakasisirà, nakasasakít. Husband, n. [jásband] Marido, esposo; labrador. Asawa (lalake); magsasaka. Husband, v. [jásband] Labrar la tierra. Magsaka, magbukid, maglinang. Husbandman, n. [jásbandman] Labrador. Magsasaka, magbubukíd. Husbandry, n. [jásbandri] Labranza, agricultura. Pagsasaka, pagbubukid. Hush, int. [jash] Chiton!, silencio!. Shutt! hwag kang maingay! Hush, v. [jash] Apaciguar, aquietar, sosegar; estar quieto. Magpatahimik; tumahimik. Husk, n. [jask] Cáscara, pellejo. Balat. Husk, v. [jask] Descascarar, mondar. Magtalop, mag-alís ng balat. Huskiness, n. [jáskines] Ronquera. Pamamaos. Husky, n. [jáski] Lleno de cascaras; ronco. Mabalát; paós. Hussar, n. [jázar] Húsar (soldado de a caballo). Kawal na nangangabayo. Hussy, n. [jázi] Mujercilla. Masamang babae. Hustle, v. [jasl] Escaramuzar, empujar con fuerza. Managasà, gumitgit. Hut, n. [jat] Choza, barraca. Dampâ, kubo. Hutch, n. [jatch] Arco, cesto, cofre. Sisidlan, buslô. Huzza, v. [jáza] Vitorear, aclamar. Purihin, pakpakán. Hydrant, n. [jídrant] Llave de un encañado. Gripo. Hymn, n. [jim] Himno. Imno, awit. Hyphen, n. [jáipn] Guion. Giyón, panghati ng salitâ. Hypocrisy, n. [jipócrisi] Hipocresía, disimulo. Paimbabaw, pakunwâ. Hypocrite, n. [jípocrit] Hipócrito. Mapagpaimbabaw, mapagkunwâ. Hypothecate, v. [jaipóseket] Hipotecar, empeñar. Magsanglâ, maglagak. Hypothesis, n. [jaipózesis] Hipotesis. Palagay na pinaghahanguan ng katwiran. Hysteric, adj. [jistéric] Histérico. Sinusubaan. I I, pron. [ay] Yo. Ako. Ice, n. [áis] Hielo. Yelo, tubig na pinamuô. Ice, v. [áis] Helar. Papagyelohin, gawing yelo. Iceberg, n. [áisberg] Lurte, gran masa ó montaña de nieve. Bunton ng tubig na namuô, bundokbundukan ng niebe. Ice box, n. [áis-baks] Nevera. Páminggalan ng yelo. Ice-cellar, n. [áis-célar] Nevera. Páminggalan ng yelo. Ice-cream, n. [áis-crim] Helado, sorbete. Sorbetes. Ice-safe, n. [áis-seif] Nevera. Páminggalan ng yelo. Icy, adj. [áisi] Helado, frio. Malamig, mayelo. Idea, n. [aidía] Idea, imagen mental. Isipan, warì. Ideal, adj. [aidíal] Ideal, intelectual. Isipan, mithî. Identic(al), adj. [aidéntic(al)] Idéntico. Kagaya, kapara, kaparis. Identification, n. [aidentifikécien] El acto de identificar. Pagkilala. Identify, n. [aidéntifai] Identificar. Kumilala; kilalanin. Identity, n. [aidéntiti] Identidad. Pagkakilala. Idiocy, n. [ídiosi] Idiotez, necedad. Katangahán, kaungasan. Idiom, n. [ídiom] Idioma. Wikà. Idiomatic(al), adj. [idiomátic(al)] Idiomático. Náuukol sa wikà. Idiosyncrasy, n. [idiosíncrasi] Idiosincrasia. Ayon sa sariling gawî. Idiot, n. [ídiot] Idiota, necio. Taong tanga ó ungas. Idiotic(al), adj. [idiótic(al)] Tonto, bobo. Ungas, tanga, gunggong. Idle, adj. [áidl] Ocioso, desocupado, holgazan. Batugan, tangá, pagayongayon, pabayâ. Idle, v. [áidl] Holgazanear, estar ocioso. Magbatugan, magpagayongayon, tumangá. Idleness, n. [áidlnes] Ociosidad, holgazanería. Pagkabutugan, pagpapagayongayon. Idol, n. [áidol] Ídolo, imagen. Dinidyos; larawan. Idolater, n. [aidólæter] Idólatra. Ang sumasamba sa dî tunay na Dyos. Idolatress, n. [aidóletres] Idólatra. Babaing sumasamba sa dî tunay na Dyos. Idolatrous, adj. [aidóletres] Idolátrico. Nauukol sa dî tunay na Dyos. Idolatry, n. [aidóletri] Idolatría. Pagsambá sa dî tunay na Dyos. Idolize, v. [áidolaiz] Idolatrar. Ibigin ng dî kawasà. If, conj. [if] Si; aunque, supuesto que. Kung; kahit, kaylan ma't. Igneous, adj. [ígnies] Igneo. Nauukol sa apoy. Ignite, v. [ignáit] Encender, abrasar. Magningas, mag-alab. Ignition, n. [ígnicion] Ignicion. Pagniningas, pag-aalab. Ignoble, adj. [ignobl] Innoble, bajo. Hamak, dustâ. Ignominious, adj. [ignominies] Ignominioso. Kadustâdustâ, alipustâ. Ignominy, n. [ígnomini] Ignominia, oprobio. Pagdustâ, pag-alipustâ. Ignoramus, n. [ignorémes] Ignorante, tonto. Taong hangal, taong gunggong. Ignorance, n. [ígnorans] Ignorancia. Kamusmusan, kawalan ng malay. Ignorant, adj. [ígnorant] Ignorante. Musmos, walang malay. Ignore, v. [ignór] Ignorar. Dí makaalam, dî makamalay. Ill, adj. [il] Malo, enfermo. May sakít. Illapse, n. [iláps] Entrada gradual de una cosa en otra. Pagkalahok na untí-untî ng isang bagay sa iba. Illegal, adj. [ilígal] Ilegal. Laban sa utos, labag sa katwiran. Illegality, n. [iligáliti] Ilegalidad. Pagkalaban sa utos ó sa kautusan. Illegible, adj. [ilédchibl] Ilegible. Dî mabasa. Illegibly, adv. [ilédchibli] De un modo ilegible. Sa isang paraang dî mabasa. Illegitimacy, n. [ilidchítimasi] Ilegitimidad. Dî pagkasang-ayon sa kautusan. Illegitimate, adj. [ilidchítimet] Ilegítimo. Anak sa ligaw. Ill-favored, adj. [il-févord] Feo. Pangit. Illiberal, adj. [ilíberal] Mísero, mezquino. Maramot, kuripot. Illicit, adj. [ilísit] Ilícito. Labag sa utos, laban sa kautusan, walâ sa katwiran. Illimitable, adj. [ilímitabl] Ilimitable. Dî matapostapos, walang hanggan. Illiterate, adj. [ilíteret] Indocto, iliterato. Dî nag-aral, walang tuto. Ill-natured, adj. [il-néchurd] Malévolo, malicioso. Masamang asal, masamang ugalì. Illness, n. [ílnes] Mal, enfermedad. Sakít, karamdaman. Illogical, adj. [ilódchical] Lo que no es conforme a las reglas de la lógica. Walang tuto, dî tumpak. Ill-shaped, adj. [ill-siepd] Disforme, irregular, mal formado. Pangit, masamang ayos. Ill-starred, adj. [íl-stard] Malaventurado, desgraciado. Sawíng kapalaran, masamang palad. Ill-treated, adj. [il-tríted] Maltratado, agraviado. Apí, alipustâ, dinudwahagi, pinag-aasalan ng masamâ. Illude, v. [iliúd] Engañar, mofar. Mangdayà, manuksó. Illuminate, v. [iliúminet] Iluminar; alumbrar. Mag-ilaw, Liwanagan, tanglawan. Illumination, n. [iliuminécion] Iluminacion. Pag-iilaw, pagpapaliwanag. Illusion, n. [iliúcion] Ilusion, imaginacion engañosa. Pángitain, malikmatá, maling akalà. Illusive, adj. [iliúsiv] Ilusivo, engañoso. Nakakadayà. Illustrate, v. [ilústret] Ilustrar, dar luz. Ipaliwanag, ipaaninaw. Illustration, n. [ilustrécion] Ilustracion. Paliwanag, paaninaw. Illustrative, adj. [ilústretiv] Ilustrativo, explicativo. Nakapagpapaliwanag, nakapagpapaaninaw. Illustrious, adj. [ilústrioes] Ilustre, conspicuo, insigne, célebre. Bunyî, magiting, tanghal, marilag. Image, n. [ímedch] Imagen, efigie, estatua; ídolo; figura. Larawan. Imagery, n. [ímedchiri] Imagen, pintura. Larawan, banhay. Imaginable, adj. [imádchinabl] Imaginable. Gunitâ, guníguní, warì. Imaginary, adj. [imádchinari] Imaginario, fantástico. Guníguní, sa isip lamang. Imagination, n. [imadchinécion] Imaginacion. Warì, kurò, dilìdilì, gunitâ, pagbubulay, gunamgunam. Imaginative, adj. [imádchinetiv] Imaginativo. Nágugunitâ, nawawarì, náguguníguní, napagbubulay. Imagine, v. [imádchin] Imaginar. Gunitain, wariin, dilidiliin, bulayin. Imbecile, adj. [imbísil] Imbecil, necio, tonto. Ungás, gunggong, hangal. Imbecility, n. [imbisíliti] Imbecilidad. Kaungasán, kagunggungan, kahangalan. Imbibe, v. [imbáib] Embeber, empapar, chupar. Umitit, sumipsip. Imbitter, v. [imbítter] Agriar. Umasim; papaitín, pasamain ang loob. Imbosom, v. [imbózom] Esconder ó poner en el seno alguna cosa. Itagò sa dibdib. Imbricate, adj. [ímbriket] Cóncavo; puesto ó colocado uno sobre otro. Malukom; magkapatong. Imbrication, n. [imbrikécion] Desigualdad cóncava como las de las conchas. Lukóm, pagkalukom. Imbrown, v. [imbráun] Oscurecer. Palabuin ang kulay. Imbroglio, n. [imbróglio] Embrollo. Guló, kaguluhan. Imbrue, v. [imbriú] Remojar. Ibabad, tigmakin. Imbrute, v. [imbriút] Embrutecer. Ariing parang hayop, hamakin. Imbue, v. [imbiú] Imbuir, infundir. Magbuyó, mag-udyok. Imbursement, n. [imbársment] Pagamento. Pagbabayad. Imitable, adj. [ímitabl] Imitable. Marapat tularan. Imitate, v. [ímitet] Imitar. Tumulad, gumaya, pumaris, humalintulad. Imitation, n. [imitécion] Imitacion. Paghalintulad, pag-gaya, pamamaris. Imitative, adj. [ímitetiv] Imitativo. Tulad, inihalintulad. Immaculate, adj. [imákiulet] Inmaculada. Walang dungis, malinis. Immaterial, adj. [imatírial] Inmaterial. Walâ sa katwiran. Immature, adj. [imachiúr] Inmaturo, prematuro. Dî pa panahon, walâ pa sa panahon. Immeasurable, adj. [imésiurabl] Inmensurable. Dî matarok, dî masukat. Immediate, adj. [imídiet] Inmediato. Malapit, karatig. Immediately, adv. [imídietli] Inmediatamente. Pagdaka, karakaraka, agad. Immemorial, [imimórial] Inmemorial. Napakalwat, malwat na malwat. Immense, adj. [imméns] Inmenso, vasto. Malawak, malakí. Immensity, n. [imménsiti] Inmensidad. Lawak, kalawakan. Immerge, v. [imérdch] Sumergir, zambullir. Lumubog, sumukbó, sumisid. Immersion, n. [immércion] Inmersion. Paglubog, pagsukbó; pagsisid. Immethodical, adj. [imezódical] Confuso, irregular. Maguló, walang ayos. Immigrant, n. [ímmigrant] Inmigrante. Taong nakikipamayan, nangingibang lupain. Immigrate, v. [ímigret] Emigrar. Mangibang bayan; mangibang lupain. Immigration, n. [imigrécion] Emigracion. Pangingibang bayan, pangingibang lupain. Imminent, adj. [íminent] Inminente. Malubhâ, nakadaluhong, kapangapanganib. Immiscible, adj. [imísibl] Inmiscible. Dî makakahalò. Immobility, n. [imobíliti] Inmovilidad, resistencia al movimiento. Tibay, katibayan, di makilos. Immoderate, adj. [imóderet] Inmoderado, excesivo. Walang ayos, walang tuos. Immodest, adj. [imódest] Inmodesto, indecente, deshonesto. Mahalay, bastos, walang galang. Immodesty, n. [imódesti] Inmodestia, indecencia. Kahalayan, kabastusan, kawalán ng galang. Immolate, v. [ímolet] Inmolar, sacrificar. Patayin at ihain sa dinidyos. Immolation, n. [imolécion] Inmolacion, sacrificio sangriento. Paghahain sa dinidyos ng pinatay. Immoral, adj. [immóral] Inmoral, depravado. Mahalay, salaulà. Immorality, n. [immoráliti] Inmoralidad, corrupcion de costumbres. Kahalayan, pagsamâ ng pangungugalì. Immortal, adj. [imórtal] Inmortal, perpetuo. Walang kamatayan, magpakaylan man. Immortality, n. [imortáliti] Inmortalidad. Walang kamatayan. Immortalize, v. [imórtalaiz] Inmortalizar, eternizar. Buhayin sa alaala magpakaylan man. Immovable, adj. [imúvabl] Inmoble, inmoto. Dî makilos, dî magalaw, matibay. Immunity, adj. [imiúniti] Inmunidad, franquicia, privilegio. Tawad, patawad, pakundangan, tanging pahintulot. Immure, v. [imiúr] Emparedar. Kulungin. Immutability, n. [imiutabíliti] Inmutabilidad. Walang pagkabago, dî pagkabago. Immutable, adj. [imiútabl] Inmutable. Dî nababago. Imp, n. [imp] Hijo, prole; diablillo. Anák, suplíng; munting diablo. Impact, n. [impáct] Choque. Banggâ, umpog. Impair, v. [impér] Empeorar; deteriorar. Sumamâ; sumirà. Impale, v. [impeíl] Empalar á un reo. Tuhugín, saksakín. Impalpable, adj. [impálpabl] Impalpable. Dî mahipò, dî maapuhap. Impannel, v. [impánel] Inscribir á los jurados sobre la lista. Ipagtatalâ ang mga tagahatol. Imparity, n. [impáriti] Desigualdad, desproporcion. Pagkakaiba, pagkaalangan. Impart, v. [ímpart] Dar, conceder, comunicar, hacer saber. Magbigay, magkaloob; magbigay alam, magpatalastas. Impartial, adj. [impárcial] Imparcial. Walang kinikilingan, walang itinatangì. Impartiality, n. [imparciáliti] Imparcialidad. Pagka walang kiling sa kanino man. Impassibility, n. [impasibíliti] Impasibilidad. Kawalán ng máraraanan. Impassible, adj. [impásibl] Intransitable. Dî maraanan. Impassionate, adj. [impácienet] Libre ó exento de pasiones. Walang dinaramdam. Impassive, adj. [impásiv] Impasible. Walang damdam. Impatience, n. [impéciens] Impaciencia, desasosiego. Yamot, iníp, kabalisahan. Impatient, adj. [impécient] Impaciente, inquieto. Yamot, iníp, balisa. Impeach, v. [impítch] Acusar, denunciar. Magsakdal, magparatang. Impeachment, n. [impítchment] Acusacion pública. Sakdal, paratang, pagbibigay sala. Impede, v. [impíd] Impedir, embarazar. Sumansalà, gumambalà, umabala. Impediment, n. [impédiment] Impedimento, obstáculo. Kapansanan, pagkaabala. Impel, v. [impél] Impeler, compeler, incitar. Mamilit, magbuyó, magudyok. Impend, v. [impénd] Amenazar. Magbalà, yumambâ. Impenetrable, adj. [impénetrabl] Impenetrable. Dî masuut, dî mapasok, dí tagusín. Impenitence, n. [impénitens] Impenitencia. Dî pagsisising tikís, katigasan ng ulo. Impenitent, adj. [impénitent] Impenitente. Dî nagsisisi, matigas ang ulo. Imperative, adj. [impéretiv] Imperativo. Mapilit. Imperceptible, adj. [imperséptibl] Imperceptible. Dî malirip. Imperfect, adj. [impérfect] Imperfecto, defectuoso. Dî ganap, dî tapos. Imperfection, n. [imperféccion] Imperfeccion. Kalagayan na dî ganap, kakulangan. Imperial, adj. [impírial] Imperial. Nauukol sa imperyo ó malaking kaharian. Imperialism, n. [imperialism] Imperialismo. Kapangyarihan. Imperil, v. [impéril] Arriesgar. Lumagay sa panganib. Imperious, adj. [impíries] Imperioso, arrogante. Mapag-giit, magilas. Imperishable, adj. [impérishabl] Indestructible. Dî nasisirà, dî náwawasak. Impersonal, adj. [impérsonal] Impersonal. Hindî nauukol sa sarili. Impersonate, v. [impérsonet] Personalizar, personificar. Ariing tao, ipalagay na tao. Impersonation, n. [impersonecion] Representacion [de un actor]. Paghwad, pagkatawan sa isang palabas-dulaan. Impertinence, n. [impértinens] Impertinencia, descaro. Kabastusan, kabalastugan. Impertinent, adj. [impértinent] Impertinente. Bastos, walang galang. Imperturbability, n. [imperterbabíliti] Imperturbabilidad. Katiwasayan, katahimikan. Imperturbable, adj. [impertérbabl] Imperturbable. Dî magambalà. Impetuous, adj. [impétiues] Impetuoso; vehemente. Mapusok, dalosdalos, pabiglabiglâ; maningas. Impetuosity, n. [impetuósiti] Impetuosidad, vehemencia. Kapusukan ng loob, kabiglaanan. Impetus, n. [ímpitoes] Ímpetu. Kabiglaanan, bugsô. Impiety, n. [ímpiti] Impiedad, irreligion. Kawalán ng kabanalan. Impinge, v. [impíndch] Tocar, golpear contra una cosa. Tumamà, umumpog, bumanggâ. Impious, adj. [ímpiæs] Impío, irreligioso. Walang kabanalan. Implacable, adj. [implécabl] Implacable, inexorable. Walang habag, walang awà. Implant, v. [implánt] Plantar, injertar. Magtanim, magbaón, magpunlâ. Implement, n. [ímplement] Herramienta, utensilio. Kasangkapan. Implicate, v. [ímpliket] Implicar, envolver. Magdamay, idamay. Implication, n. [implikécion] Implicacion. Pagkadamay. Implicit, adj. [implísit] Implicado, enredado. Karamay. Imploration, n. [implorécion] Imploracion. Pamanhik, luhóg, samò. Implore, v. [implór] Implorar, rogar. Mamanhík, lumuhog, sumamò. Imply, v. [implái] Implicar, envolver, enredar. Magdamay. Impolicy, n. [impólisi] Imprudencia, indiscrecion. Kawalan ng baít, kawalán ng galan. Impolite, adj. [impoláit] Descortés, impolítico. Walang bait, walang galang. Impolitic, adj. [impólitic] Imprudente, indiscreto. Walang bait, walang pitagan. Imporous, adj. [impóræs] Sólido, macizo. Buô, walang sirà, walang butas. Import, v. [impórt] Importar. Magpasok sa lupaín ng kalakal ng iba. Import, n. [impórt] Los géneros importados. Kalakal na galing sa ibang lupaín. Importance, n. [impórtans] Importancia. Kahalagahán, kabuluhan. Important, adj. [impórtant] Importante. Mahalagá, makabuluhan. Importation, n. [importécion] Importacion. Pagpapasok sa lupain ng kalakal ng iba. Importer, n. [impórter] Introductor de géneros extrangeros. Tagapagpasok ng kalakal na galing sa ibang lupain. Importunate, adj. [impórtiunet] Importuno. Nakapupukaw, nakayayamot. Importune, v. [impórtiun] Importunar. Mamilit, makayamot. Importunity, n. [importiúniti] Importunidad. Kayamutan, pagkayamot. Impose, v. [impóz] Imponer. Mag-atang, maggiit. Imposing, adj. [impósing] Imponente, que infunde respeto. Mapaggiit. Imposition, n. [impozícion] Imposición, carga. Atang, pag-aatang. Impossibility, n. [imposibíliti] Imposibilidad. Dî pangyayari. Impossible, adj. [impósibl] Imposible. Dî mangyayari. Impost, n. [impóst] Impuesto, tributo. Bwis. Impostor, n. [impóstor] Impostor. Magdarayà, sinungaling. Imposture, n. [impóstiur] Impostura, fraude, engaño. Dayà, kasinungalingan. Impotence, n. [ímpotens] Impotencia, incapacidad. Kawalán ng lakas, kawalán ng kaya. Impotency = impotence. Impotent, adj. [ímpotent] Impotente. Walang lakás, walang kaya. Impoverish, v. [impóverish] Empobrecer. Maghirap. Impoverishment, n. [impovérishment] Empobrecimiento. Paghihirap. Impracticable, adj. [imprácticabl] Impracticable. Dî máisasagawâ. Imprecate, v. [ímpriket] Imprecar, maldecir. Manungayaw, manumpâ. Imprecation, n. [imprikécion] Imprecacion, maldicion. Tungayaw, sumpâ. Impregnable, adj. [imprégnabl] Inexpugnable. Dî masupil, dî madaig. Impregnate, v. [imprégnet] Impregnar. Matigmak; tigmakin. Impregnation, n. [impregnécion] Impregnacion. Pagkatigmak. Impress, v. [imprés] Imprimir, estampar. Ilimbag, ikintal. Impressible, adj. [imprésibl] Impresionable. Maramdamin. Impression, n. [imprésion] Impresion. Pagkalimbag. Impressive, adj. [imprésiv] Impresivo, impresionable. Maramdamin. Imprint, v. [imprínt] Imprimir. Lumimbag; magkintal. Imprison, v. [imprízn] Aprisionar. Ibilanggô, ibilibid. Imprisonment, n. [impríznment] Reclusion, encierro. Pagbibilanggô, pagbibilibid. Improbability, n. [improbabíliti] Improbabilidad. Walang kasiguruhan. Improbable, adj. [impróbabl] Improbable. Dî maasahan, walang siguro. Improbity, n. [impróbiti] Falta de probidad, picardía. Kawalán ng pagtatapat, panunwitik. Improper, adj. [impróper] Impropio; indecente. Dî bagay, dî marapat; mahalay. Impropriety, n. [impropriéti] Impropiedad, incongruencia. Pagkawalang karapatan, kawalán ng karapatan. Improve, v. [imprúv] Mejorar, adelantar. Gumaling, bumuti, umigi. Improvement, n. [imprúvment] Mejora, mejoría, progreso. Paggaling, pagbuti, pag-igi. Improvidence, n. [impróvidens] Descuido, falta de prevision. Kapabayaan, kalingat. Improvident, adj. [impróvident] Impróvido, inconsiderado. Pabayâ, nakakakalingat. Improvise, v. [impróvais] Improvisar. Dumaglî. Imprudence, n. [imprúdens] Imprudencia, indiscrecion. Kakulangan ng bait, kabastusan. Imprudent, adj. [imprúdent] Imprudente. Walang bait, walang galang, bastós. Impudence, n. [ímpiudens] Impudencia, desverguenza, descaro. Kapaslangan, kalapastanganan, kawalang hiyaan. Impudent, adj. [ímpiudent] Impudente, descarado. Lapastangan, mapagpaslang, walang hiyâ. Impugn, v. [impiún] Impugnar. Sumalangsang, pumwíng. Impulse, n. [impéls] Impulso, ímpetu ó estímulo. Buyó, udyok. Impulsion, n. [impélcion] Impulsion, ímpetu. Udyok, pagkabuyo. Impulsive, adj. [impélsiv] Impulsivo. Nakákabuyo, nakapag-uudyok. Impunity, n. [impiúniti] Impunidad, exencion de castigo. Dî pagkaparusa, pagkaligtas sa parusa. Impure, adj. [impiúr] Impuro, impúdico; sucio. Malabò, hindî wagas, hindî dalisay; marumi. Impurity, n. [impiúriti] Impuridad, impureza. Labò, dumí, kawalan ng kawagasan. Imputation, n. [impiutécion] Imputacion. Bintang, paratang. Impute, v. [impiút] Imputar, atribuir. Ibintang, iparatang. In, prep. [in] En. Sa. Inability, n. [inabíliti] Inhabilidad, insuficiencia. Kawalan ng kaya, kawalán ng abot. Inaccessible, adj. [inacsésibl] Inaccesible. Dî makaabot, dî makarating. Inaccuracy, n. [inákiuresi] Incuria, negligencia. Kasinsayan, kamalian. Inaccurate, adj. [inákiuret] Inexacto. Hindî ganap, hindî lubos, malî, hindî tamà. Inaction, n. [ináccion] Inaccion, holgazanería. Pagkawalang kilos, pagkawalang galaw. Inactive, adj. [ináctiv] Flojo, perezoso. Mahinà, tamad, walang galaw. Inactivity, n. [inactíviti] Pereza, ociosidad. Katamaran, kawalán ng kilos. Inadequate, adj. [inádicuet] Inadecuado, imperfecto. Hindî bagay, dî sapat, kapos, kulang. Inadmissible, adj. [inadmísibl] Inadmisible. Dî natatanggap. Inadvertence, n. [inadvértens] Inadvertencia. Kawalán ng pahiwatig. Inadvertency = inadvertence. Inadvertent, adj. [inadvértent] Inadvertido, descuidado. Walang malay, pabayâ. Inane, adj. [inén] Inane, lo que está vacío. Walang lamán, tuyô. Inanimate, adj. [inánimet] Inánime, inanimado. Walang kálulwa, walang buhay. Inanition, n. [inanícion] Inanicion. Panglulupaypay, panghihinà. Inapplicable, adj. [ináplicabl] Inaplicable. Hindî bagay, hindî marapat, hindî magagamit. Inapplication, n. [inaplikécion] Inaplicacion, indolencia. Katamaran sa pag-aaral. Inappreciable, adj. [inapríciabl] Inapreciable. Dî dapat igalang. Inapt, adj. [inápt] Inepto. Walang kaya, walang abot. Inaptitude, n. [ináptitiud] Inaptitud. Kawalán ng kaya, kawalán ng abot. Inarticulate, adj. [inartikiulet] Inarticulado. Utal, gago, dî malinaw. Inasmuch, adv. [inásmatch] Puesto que. Yamang. Inattention, n. [inaténcion] Desatencion, descuido. Kawalan ng lingap, kapabayaan. Inattentive, adj. [inaténtiv] Desatento, descuidado. Walang bahalà, pabayâ. Inaudible, adj. [inódibl] Inaudible. Dî makarinig. Inaugurate, adj. [inóguiuret] Inaugurar, dedicar. Ipagdiwan, idaos. Inauguration, n. [inoguiurécion] Inauguracion. Pagdiriwan, pagdadaos. Inauspicious, adj. [inospicies] Malaventurado, desgraciado. Sawing palad, masamang kapalaran. Inbreathe, v. [inbríz] Inspirar. Huminga. Incage, v. [inkédch] Enjaular, encerrar. Kumulong. Incalculable, adj. [incálkiulabl] Incalculable. Dî makurò, dî malirip, dî matuus. Incandescence, n. [incandésens] Candencia. Lagay ng anomang kararaan lamang sa apoy. Incandescent, adj. [incandésent] Candente. Nag-aapoy, nag-babaga. Incapability, n. [inkepabíliti] Inhabilidad, incapacidad. Kawalán ng kaya, kakapusan, kakulangan. Incapable, adj. [inképabl] Incapaz, inhábil, inepto. Walang kaya, walang abot, kapós. Incapacitate, v. [inkepásitet] Inhabilitar. Mawalán ng kaya, ariing walang kaya, ipalagay na walang kaya. Incapacity, n. [inkepásiti] Incapacidad. Kawalán ng kaya, pagkawalang kaya. Incarcerate, v. [incárseret] Encarcelar, aprisionar. Ibilanggô, ibilibid. Incarceration, n. [incarserécion] Encarcelamiento, prision. Pagkabilanggô, pagkabilibid. Incarnate, v. [incárnet] Encarnar. Magkatawang tao. Incarnation, n. [incarnécion] Encarnacion. Pagkakatawang tao. Incase, v. [inkés] Encajar, incluir. Balutin, ibalot. Incautious, adj. [incócies] Incauto, negligente. Pabayâ, walang bahalà, walang ingat. Incendiary, n. [inséndieri] Incendiario. Mánununog. Incense, n. [inséns] Incienso. Panuob, pangsuob. Incense, v. [inséns] Incensar. Sumuub; suubín. Incentive, adj. [inséntiv] Estímulo. Nakapagbubuyó, nakapagpapalakas loob, nakakaakay. Inception, n. [insépcion] El principio de alguna cosa. Pinagmulan, pinagbuhatan. Inceptive, adj. [inséptiv] Incipiente. Nauukol sa pinagbuhatan, nauukol sa pinagmulán. Incertitude, n. [insértitiud] Incertidumbre. Pag-aalangan, agam-agam, pag-uurong sulong. Incessant, adj. [insésant] Incesante, constante. Walang likat, walang tigil, walang lubay, pálagian, walang pukát. Incest, n. [ínsest] Incesto. Pakikiapid sa kamaganak. Incestuous, adj. [inséstuoes] Incestuoso. Nakikiapid sa kamaganak. Inch, n. [inch] Pulgada. Dalì. Inchoate, adj. [íncoet] Principiado, comenzado, empezado. Bago, sinimulan. Inchoation, n. [incoécien] Principio. Pagsisimulâ. Incidence, n. [ínzidens] Incidencia. Pagkabalatong, pagkakataong masamâ. Incident, adj. [ínzident] Incidente. Sakunâ, masamang pagkakataon. Incidental, adj. [insidéntal] Accidental, casual. Nagkátaon. Incipient, adj. [insípient] Incipiente. Baguhan. Incise, v. [insáiz] Tajar; grabar. Humiwà; lumilok. Incised, adj. [insáizd] Inciso, cortado. Hiwâ, putól. Incision, n. [incision] Incision. Hiwà, putol. Incisive, adj. [insáisiv] Incisivo. Nakakahiwà. Incisor, n. [insáisor] Incisivos. Mga ngiping pangagat. Incite, v. [insáit] Incitar, estimular. Humalina, magbuyó, mag-udyok. Incitement, n. [insáitment] Incitamento, estímulo. Pagbubuyó, pang-uudyok, panghahalina. Incivil, adj. [insívil] Incivil, descortes. Lapastangan, walang pitagan. Incivility, n. [insivíliti] Incivilidad, descortesía. Kalapastanganan, pagkawalang pitagan. Inclemency, n. [inclémensi] Inclemencia, crueldad. Pagkawalang habág, kawalán ng awà, kabaksikan. Inclement, adj. [inclément] Inclemente, severo. Walang habag, walang awà, mabaksik. Inclination, n. [inclinécien] Inclinacion. Hilig, hapay, gawî. Incline, v. [incláin] Inclinar, ladear, torcer. Humilig, humapay, gumawî. Inclose, v. [inclóz] Cercar, rodear; incluir. Bakuran, kulungin; isama. Include, v. [inclúd] Incluir. Isama, ilakip. Inclusive, adj. [incliúsiv] Inclusivo. Kasama, kalakip. Incognito, adv. [incógnito] Incógnito. Dî napakikilala, nakabalat-kayô. Incoherence, n. [incojírens] Incoherencia. Kalabuan, dî pagkakaunawà. Incoherent, adj. [incojírent] Incoherente. Malabó, dî máunawaan. Incombustible, adj. [incombústibl] Incombustible. Hindî nasusunog. Income, n. [ínkam] Renta. Kita, bayad, upa. Incommensurable, adj. [incoménsiurebl] Inconmensurable. Walang kasukát, walang kapantay. Incommode, v. [incommód] Incomodar. Gumambalà, yumamot. Incommodious, adj. [incommodioes] Incómodo, molesto, enojoso. Nakayayamot, nakaiinip. Incomparable, adj. [incómparabl] Incomparable. Dî máihahalintulad, dî maipaparis; walang katulad, walang kahulilip. Incompatible, adj. [incompátibl] Incompatible, opuesto. Nalalaban, nákakaagawan. Incompetency, n. [incómpetenci] Incompetencia, insuficiencia. Kawalán ng karapatan, kawalán ng kaya. Incompetent, adj. [incómpetent] Incompetente. Walang kaya, walang karapatán. Incomplete, adj. [incomplít] Incompleto, falto. Hindî ganap, hindî lubos, hindî hustó, kulang. Incomprehensibility, n. [incomprijensibíliti] Incomprensibilidad. Kawalán ng pagkaunawà, walang katuusan. Incomprehensible, adj. [incomprijénsibl] Incomprensible. Dî maunawà, dî matantô, dî matalastas. Inconceivable, adj. [inconsívabl] Inconcebible. Hindî malirip. Inconclusive, adj. [inconcliúsiv] Lo que no concluye. Walang pagkatapos. Incongruity, n. [incongriúiti] Incongruencia. Kawalán ng pagkakabagay. Incongruous, adj. [incóngriuoes] Incongruo. Hindî bagay. Inconsequence, n. [inconsícuens] Inconsecuencia. Kawalán ng kapakanán sa sinasabi. Inconsequent, adj. [incónsicuent] Inconsecuente. Walang kapakanan sa sinasabi. Inconsiderable, adj. [inconsídoerabl] Frívolo, poco considerable. Walang gasinong kabuluhan. Inconsiderate, adj. [inconsíderet] Inconsiderado, inadvertido. Walang malay, nabiglaanan. Inconsistency, n. [inconsístensi] Incompatibilidad, incongruencia. Kawalán ng pagkakabagay. Inconsistent, adj. [inconsístent] Inconsistente. Walang pananatili, nababago. Inconsolable, adj. [inconsólabl] Inconsolable. Dî maaliw, walang kaaliwán. Inconstancy, n. [incónstansi] Inconstancia. Kawalán ng tiyagâ, pagkasalawahan, kaalisagaan. Inconstant, adj. [incónstant] Inconstante, mudable. Sálawahan, nababago, alisagâ. Incontestable, adj. [incontéstabl] Incontestable, indisputable. Dî masagot, dî masinsay. Incontinence, n. [incóntinens] Incontinencia. Kawalan ng pagpipigil. Incontinent, adj. [incóntinent] Incontinente, lascivo. Walang pagpipigil; malibog. Incontinently, adv. [incóntinentli] Inmediatamente, al instante. Pagdaka, karakaraka. Incontrovertible, adj. [incontrovértibl] Incontrovertible, indisputable. Dî mapwíng, dî máikakailâ. Inconvenience, n. [inconvíniens] Inconveniencia, incomodidad, embarazo. Kapansanan, iníp, gambalà. Inconvenient, adj. [inconvínient] Incómodo, embarazoso. Dî bagay, dî dapat, gambalà. Inconvertible, adj. [inconvértibl] Inconvertible. Dî mahikayat, dí maakít. Incorporate, adj. [incórporet] Incorporado, asociado. Násasapì, nálalakip. Incorporate, v. [incórporet] Incorporar, asociar. Sumapì, lumakip. Incorporation, n. [incorporécioen] Incorporacion, asociacion. Samahan. Incorporeal, adj. [incorpórial] Incorpóreo. Walang katawan. Incorrect, adj. [incorrét] Incorrecto. Malî, lisyâ, sinsay, hindî matwid, hindî tamà. Incorrigible, adj. [incorrídchibl] Incorregible, indocil. Dî masaway, matigas ang ulo. Incorrupt, adj. [incorrápt] Incorrupto. Dî nabubulok, dî nasisirà. Incorruptibility, n. [incorraptibíliti] Incorruptibilidad. Lagay na dî nabubulok ó nasisirà. Incorruptible, adj. [incoráptibl] Incorruptible. Hindî nabubulok, hindî nasisirà. Increase, n. [incrís] Aumento, acrecentamiento, producto. Dagdag, kapupunán, tubò. Increase, v. [incrís] Acrecentar, aumentar. Dumami, máragdagan, tumubò. Incredible, adj. [incrédibl] Increible. Dî mapaniwalaan, dî mapanaligan. Incredulity, n. [incridiúliti] Incredulidad. Kawalán ng paniniwalà, kawalán ng pananampalataya. Incredulous, adj. [incrédiuloes] Incrédulo. Walang pananalig, walang pananampalataya. Increment, n. [incrément] Incremento, producto. Karagdagan, kapupunán, tubò. Incubate, v. [inkiuboet] Empollar. Papagsisiwin. Incubator, n. [ínkiubator] Horno para empollar. Hurnó na nagpapalabás ng sisiw sa itlog. Inculcate, v. [inkélket] Inculcar. Maggiit, pumilit. Inculpate, v. [incúlpet] Inculpar. Magbintang, magparatang. Incumbency, n. [inkémbensi] Incumbencia. Katungkulan. Incumbent, adj. [inkémbent] Obligatorio. Kailangan, sápilitan. Incur, v. [inkár] Incurrir, merecer las penas señaladas por una ley. Málapatan ng parusa, márapatan. Incurable, adj. [inkiúrabl] Incurable. Dî mapagalíng, dî magamot. Incursion, n. [inkércioen] Incursion. Pagkakasala. Indebt, v. [indét] Hacer endeudar. Papangutangin. Indebted, adj. [indéted] Adeudado. May utang, nagkakautang. Indecency, n. [indísensi] Indecencia, inmodestia. Kahalayan, kabastusan. Indecent, adj. [indísent] Indecente, grosero. Bastos, mahalay. Indecision, n. [indicicoen] Indecision, irresolucion. Agam-agam, paguurong-sulóng. Indecisive, adj. [indisáisiv] Indeciso. Uróng-sulóng; nag-aagamagam. Indecorous, adj. [indécorous] Indecoroso, indigno. Hamak, bastos, mahalay. Indeed, adv. [indíd] Verdaderamente, de veras. Siya ngâ, totoo ngâ. Indefatigable, adj. [indifátigabl] Infatigable. Walang pagod, dî marunong mapagod. Indefinite, adj. [indéfinit] Indefinido. Hindî tiyak, malabò, walang katuusan. Indelible, adj. [indélibl] Indeleble. Hindî napapawì. Indelicacy, n. [indélikesi] Grosería, falta de delicadeza. Kagaspangán, kabastusan. Indelicate, adj. [indéliket] Poco delicado, inurbano. Magaspang, bastos. Indemnification, n. [indemnifikécioen] Indemnizacion, resarcimiento de daño. Pagsasaulì ó pagbabayad ng nasirà. Indemnify, v. [indémnifai] Indemnizar. Magbayad ng nasirà. Indemnity, n. [indémniti] Indemnidad, resarcimiento. Pagbabayad ng nasirà, pagsasaulì. Indent, v. [indént] Dentar. Ngipinan ó lagyan ng mga tulis ang anomang gaya ng lagarì, ibp. Indentation, n. [indentécien] Recortadura. Pagngingipin ó paglalagay ng tulis sa anoman. Independence, n. [indipéndens] Independencia. Pagsasarilí. Independent, adj. [indipéndent] Independiente. May pagsasarilí. Indescribable, adj. [indiscráibabl] Indescribible. Hindî masayod, hindî masalaysay. Indestructible, adj. [indistráctibl] Indestructible. Dî máiwasak, dî mawalat, dî masirà. Indeterminate, adj. [indetérminet] Indeterminado. Hindî tiyak, walang tuos. Index, n. [índecs] Índice. Hintuturò, anomang bagay na tumuturò. Indicate, v. [índiket] Indicar, señalar, designar. Iturò, isurot, itandâ. Indication, n. [indikécioen] Indicacion, señal. Pagtuturò, pagsusurot. Indicative, adj. [indíkativ] Indicativo. Tumuturò. Indicator, n. [índiketoer] Indicador, señalador. Tagaturò, nagtuturò. Indictment, n. [indíetment] Acusacion ante el jurado. Sadkal sa harap ng inangpalán ó tagahatol. Indifference, n. [indíferens] Indiferencia, imparcialidad. Pagwawalang bahalà, pagkawalang kiling sa kanino man. Indifferent, adj. [indífoerent] Indiferente, imparcial. Walang bahalà, walang kiling sa kanino man. Indigence, n. [índidchens] Indigencia, pobreza. Karalitaan, kahirapan. Indigent, adj. [índidchent] Indigente, pobre. Salát, mahirap. Indigestible, adj. [indidchéstibl] Indigestible, indigesto. Dî natutunaw, nakaeempacho. Indigestion, n. [indidchéschen] Indigestion. Empacho, sakít na dî pagkatunaw ng kinain. Indignant, adj. [indígnant] Indignado. Nagagalit, nagngingitngit. Indignation, n. [indignécioen] Indignacion. Ngitngit, poot. Indignity, n. [indígniti] Indignidad, oprobio. Paghamak, pag-alipustâ. Indigo, n. [índigo] Añil. Tayom, tinà. Indirect, adj. [indiréct] Indirecto. Pasalíw, padaplís, hindî tápatan. Indiscreet, adj. [indiscrít] Indiscreto, imprudente. Walang pitagan, walang bait, bastos. Indiscretion, n. [indiscrécioen] Indiscrecion, imprudencia. Pagkawalang pitagan, pagkawalang bait, kabastusan. Indiscriminate, adj. [indiscríminet] Indistinto, confuso. Malabò, maguló, hindî malinaw. Indispensable, adj. [indispénsabl] Indispensable. Lubhang kailangan, sápilitan. Indispensably, adv. [indispénabli] Indispensablemente. Nápaka lubhang kailangan. Indispose, v. [indispóz] Indisponer. Alisan ng pasya. Indisposed, adj. [indispózd] Indispuesto. May karamdaman, sinasamaan ng katawan, matamlay. Indisposition, n. [indispozícioen] Indisposicion. Karamdaman, tamlay, samâ ng katawan. Indisputable, adj. [indispiútabl] Indisputable. Hindî mapupwing. Indissoluble, adj. [indísoliubl] Indisoluble. Dî natutunaw, dî nakakalas, dî nakakalag. Indistinct, adj. [indistínct] Indistinto, confuso. Malabò, hindî malinaw. Indistinguishable, adj. [indistínguishabl] Indistinguible. Hindî máunawaan. Indite, v. [indaít] Redactar. Maglagdâ. Individual, adj. [indivídiual] Individual. Bukod, sarili, nag-iisá. Individual, n. [indivídiual] Individuo. Tao. Individuality, n. [individiuáliti] Individualidad. Pagkatao. Indivisible, adj. [indivízibl] Indivisible. Hindî mabahagi, hindî mahatì. Indocile, adj. [indócil] Indócil. Matigas ang ulo. Indocility, n. [indosíliti] Indocilidad, pertinacia. Katigasan ng ulo. Indolence, n. [índolens] Indolencia, pereza. Katamaran. Indolent, adj. [índolent] Indolente, perezoso. Tamad. Indomitable, adj. [indómitabl] Indomable. Dî mapaamò, dî mapasukò, dî malupig. Indorse, v. [indórs] Endosar una letra, vale ú otro documento. Isalin sa iba ang anomang inaaring katibayang may halaga. Indubitable, adj. [indiúbitabl] Indubitable. Dî maikakailâ. Induce, v. [indiús] Inducir, instigar, incitar. Mag-udyok, mangayag, mang-akít, mang-upat. Inducement, n. [indiúsment] Inducimiento, aliciente, halago. Pangangayag, panghalina, pang-akít. Induction, n. [indáccioen] Induccion. Panghihikayat, pangangayag, pang-uupat. Inductive, adj. [indáctiv] Inductivo. Nakahihikayat, nakaaakít. Indue, v. [indiú] Vestir, investir. Suután, damtán. Indulge, v. [indáldch] Favorecer, conceder, ser indulgente. Kumalingâ, magkaloob, mahabag. Indulgence, n. [indáldchens] Indulgencia. Tawad, patawad. Indulgent, adj. [indáldchent] Indulgente. Mapagpatawad, mahabagin. Indurate, adj. [índiuret] Endurecer. Tumigas, magmatigas. Induration, n. [indiurécioen] Endurecimiento, dureza de corazon. Pagmamatigas. Industrial, adj. [indástrial] Industrial. Nauukol sa paghahanap-buhay. Industrious, adj. [indástrias] Industrioso, laborioso. Masikap, masipag. Industry, n. [indástri] Industria. Pagkabuhay, hanap-buhay. Inebriate, v. [iníbriet] Embriagar. Lumasíng lumangô. Inebriation, n. [inibriécioen] Embriaguez. Paglalasíng, paglalangô. Ineffable, adj. [inéfabl] Inefable. Dî masayod, dî masaysay. Ineffective, adj. [ineféctiv] Ineficaz. Walang bisà. Inefficacious, adj. [inefikécioes] Ineficaz. Walang bisà. Inefficiency, n. [inéficiensi] Ineficacia. Pagkawalang bisà. Inefficient, adj. [inefícient] Ineficaz. Walang bisà. Inelegant, adj. [inéligant] Inelegante, sin pulimento. Magaspang, bastos, hindî malines. Ineligibility, n. [inelidchibíliti] El estado de que no puede ser elegido. Kalagayang dî pinapayagang máihalal. Ineligible, adj. [inélidchibl] Excluido de eleccion. Dî pinapayagang máihalal. Ineptitude, n. [inéptitiud] Ineptitud, incapacidad. Kawalan ng kaya, kawalán ng abot. Inequality, n. [inicuóliti] Desigualdad, desemejanza. Pagkakaiba, kaibahan. Inert, adj. [inért] Inerte, perezoso. Tamad. Inertness, n. [inértnes] Inercia. Katamaran. Inestimable, adj. [inéstimabl] Inestimable, inapreciable. Lubhang mahalaga, lubhang makabuluhan. Inevitable, adj. [inévitabl] Inevitable. Dî maiwasan, dî mailagan. Inexcusable, adj. [inecskiúzabl] Inexcusable. Walang sukat madahilan. Inexhaustible, adj. [inecssóstibl] Inexhausto, inagotable. Dî maubos, dî masaid. Inexorable, adj. [inécsorabl] Inexorable, inflexible, duro. Dî mapakiusapan, dî mapamanhikan, mapagmatigas na loob. Inexpediency, n. [inecspídiensi] Inconveniencia, falta de oportunidad. Pagka dî marapat, pagkawalang karapatan. Inexpedient, adj. [inecspídient] Impropio. Dî dapat, dî bagay. Inexperience, n. [inecspíriens] Inexperiencia, impericia. Pagka dî sanáy, kawalán ng kaya. Inexpert, adj. [inecspért] Inexperto. Hindî bihasá. Inexplicable, adj. [inecsplíkebl] Inexplicable. Dî masaysay. Inexpressible, adj. [inecsprésibl] Indecible. Dî masayod. Inextricable, adj. [inécstrikebl] Intrincado, confuso. Maliwag, maguló. Infallibility, n. [infalibíliti] Infalibilidad, suma certeza. Walang pagkakabulà, walang pagkakadayà. Infallible, adj. [infálibl] Infalible. Dî nagkakabulà, dî nadadayà. Infamous, adj. [ínfemoes] Infame, vil. Hamak, alimura, walang puri. Infamy, n. [ínfemi] Infamia, oprobio, deshonra. Paghamak, kadustaan, kapalibhasaan, kasiraang puri. Infancy, n. [ínfansi] Infancia. Kabataan, pagkabatà. Infant, n. [ínfant] Infante, niño. Batà, sanggol. Infanticide, n. [infántisaid] Infanticidio; infanticida. Pagpatay ng batà; mámamatay ng batà. Infantile, adj. [ínfantail] Infantil, pueril. Kilos batà, tila batà. Infantry, n. [ínfantri] Infantería. Hukbong lakád. Infatuate, v. [infátiuet] Infatuar, embobar. Mang-ulol, manirà ng isip, mang-hangal. Infatuation, n. [infatiuécioen] Infatuacion. Pang-uulol, paninirà ng isip. Infect, v. [inféct] Infectar, apestar. Makahawa, makasalot. Infection, n. [inféccioen] Infeccion. Hawa, pagkahawa. Infectious, adj. [inféccioes] Infecto, inficionado. Nakakahawa. Infer, v. [infér] Inferir, deducir. Paghanguan, paghuluan, pagkuruan. Inference, n. [ínferens] Inferencia, ilacion. Paghangò, paghulò, pagkurò. Inferior, adj. [infírior] Inferior. Mababà sa iba, lalong mababà. Inferiority, n. [infirióriti] Inferioridad. Kababaan sa iba, lalong kababaan. Infernal, adj. [inférnal] Infernal. Nauukol sa impyerno. Infertile, adj. [infértil] Infecundo, esteril. Basal. Infertility, n. [infoertíliti] Infecundidad, esterilidad. Kabasalan, pagkabasal. Infest, v. [infést] Infestar. Makahawa. Infidel, adj. [ínfidel] Desleal. Lilo, taksil, pusóng, sukáb. Infidel, n. [ínfidel] Infiel, pagano. Hindî kristyano. Infidelity, n. [infidéliti] Infidelidad, deslealtad. Paglililo, kataksilan, kapusungán, kasukabán. Infinite, adj. [ínfinit] Infinito; innumerable. Walang katapusan, walang bilang. Infinitive, adj. [infínitiv] Infinitivo. Walang hanggan. Infirm, adj. [infírm] Enfermo, debil. May sakít, mahinà. Infirmary, n. [inférmeri] Enfermería. Págamutan. Infirmity, n. [inférmiti] Enfermedad, fragilidad. Sakít, panghihinà. Inflame, v. [inflém] Inflamar [se]. Magningas, magliyab, mag-alab. Inflammable, adj. [inflámabl] Inflamable. Nagniningas, nagliliyab, nag-aalab. Inflammation, n. [inflamécioen] Inflamacion, encendimiento. Pagniningas, pagliliyab, pag-aalab. Inflammatory, adj. [inflámetori] Inflamatorio. Mapag-alab, mapagliyab. Inflate, v. [infilét] Inflar, hinchar. Papintugin. Inflection, n. [infléccioen] Inflacion, hinchazon. Pamimintog. Inflection, n. [infléccioen] Inflexion. Pagbabago. Inflexibility, n. [inflecsibíliti] Inflexibilidad, dureza, obstinacion. Kitigasan, katibayan. Inflexible, adj. [inflécsibl] Inflexible. Matibay, matigas, dî mabaluktot, dî máibaling. Inflict, v. [inflíct] Castigar. Magparusa. Infliction, n. [inflíccioen] Imposicion de una pena corporal. Parusa. Influence, n. [ínfliuens] Influencia, influjo. Lakas, kapangyarihan. Influential, adj. [infliuéncial] Influente. May lakas, may kapangyarihan. Influenza, n. [infliuénza] Influenza. Hikà. Influx, n. [ínfloecs] Influjo; infusión. Pagpasok. Inform, v. [infórm] Informar, delatar. Magpahiwatig, magbigay-alam, magbalità. Informal, adj. [infórmal] Informal. Walang pormalidad, walang ayos. Informality, n. [informáliti] Informalidad. Kawalán ng ayos, kawalán ng pormalidad. Informant, n. [infórmant] Informante, denunciador. Tagapagpahiwatig, tagasumbong. Information, n. [informécioen] Informacion. Hiwatig, balità. Infraction, n. [infráccioen] Infraccion; transgresion. Sala, kamalian, pagsway, paglabag. Infrangible, adj. [infrándchibl] Infrangible. Dî malalabag, dî masisirà. Infrequent, adj. [infrícuent] Raro, extraordinario. Madalang, bihirà. Infringe, v. [infríndch] Infringir, violar una ley ó pacto. Lumabag, sumwáy, magkasala. Infringer, n. [infríndcher] Violador. Mangdadahas, mánunway. Infuriate, v. [infiúriet] Enfurecer, irritar. Mapoot, mag-init. Infuse, v. [infiúz] Infundir. Isalin, ibuhos. Infusion, n. [infiúcioen] Infusion. Pagsasalin, pagbubuhos. Ingathering, n. [íngadzering] Cosecha. Ani, pag-aani. Ingenious, adj. [indchínioes] Ingenioso, hábil. Matalinò, marunong, makatâ. Ingenuity, n. [indcheniúti] Ingeniosidad. Katalinuan, karunungan. Ingenuous, adj. [indchéniuoes] Ingenuo, sincero. Tapat na loob. Inglorious, adj. [inglórioes] Ignominioso, deshonroso. Kahalay-halay, kahiyâ-hiyâ. Ingot, n. [íngot] Barra de metal. Putol ng metal. Ingraft, v. [ingráft] Injertar. Magsuplíng. Ingrate, adj. [ingrét] Ingrato. Hindî marunong kumilala ng utang na loob. Ingratiate, v. [ingréciet] Insinuarse, congraciarse. Magmakaamò magmakaawà. Ingratitude, n. [imgrátitiud] Ingratitud. Dî karunungan ng pagkilala ng utang na loob. Ingredient, n. [ingrídient] Ingrediente. Kahalô, kalahok. Ingress, n. [íngres] Ingreso, entrada. Pasok, pagpasok. Ingulf, v. [ingalf] Engolfar, tragar. Sumakmal, lumamon. Inhabit, v. [injábit] Habitar, vivir, residir. Tumira, tumahan, mamuhay. Inhabitable, adj. [injábitabl] Habitable. Matitirhan, matatahanan, mapamumuhayan. Inhabitant, n. [injábitant] Habitante. Tao, naninirahan. Inhale, v. [injél] Inspirar. Huminga, suminghot ng hangin. Inharmonious, adj. [injarmónioes] Disonante, descordante. Hindî tugmâ, sirâ ang tunóg. Inherent, adj. [injírent] Inherente. Kakabít, kanigníg. Inherit, v. [injérit] Heredar. Magmana. Inheritance, n. [injéritans] Herencia. Mana. Inheritor, n. [injéritor] Heredero. Tagapagmana. Inhospitable, adj. [injóspitabl] Inhospitable, inhospedable. Hindî marunong magpatuloy, hindî mapakisunuan. Inhuman, adj. [injiúman] Inhumano, cruel. Walang pagkatao, mabagsik, mabangis. Inhumanity, n. [injiumániti] Inhumanidad, barbarie. Kahayupan, kabalakyutan, kabagsikan. Inhume, v. [injiúm] Enterrar, sepultar. Magbaón, maglibíng. Inimical, adj. [inímical] Enemigo, contrario. Kalaban, kaaway. Inimitable, adj. [inímitabl] Inimitable. Dî matularan, dî maparisan. Iniquitous, adj. [inícuitæs] Inicuo, malvado. Balakyot, masamâ. Iniquity, n. [inícuiti] Iniquidad, maldad. Kabalakyutan, kasamaan. Initial, adj. [inícial] Inicial. Una, panguna. Initial, n. [inícial] Letra inicial. Unang títik ng pangalan. Initiate, v [iníciet] Iniciar. Magsimulâ. Initiation, n. [iniciécion] Iniciacion. Pagsisimulâ. Inject, v. [indchéct] Inyectar. Ipasok, isilid, isuot. Injection, n. [indchéccion] Inyeccion. Pa papasok, pagsisilid. Injudicious, adj. [indchiudícies] Indiscreto, poco juicioso. Pabiglâ-biglâ, walang bahalà. Injunction, n. [indchénccion] Mandato, precepto. Utos. Injure, v. [índchiur] Injuriar, ofender, dañar. Umalipustâ, lumapastangan, manakít, makasakít. Injurious, adj. [indchiúriæs] Injurioso, injusto. Namamaslang, nangaapí. Injury, n. [índchiuri] Injuria, daño, detrimento. Kapaslangan, kasiraan, pananakít. Injustice, n. [indchástis] Injusticia. Kalikuan. Ink, n. [ink] Tinta. Tintá. Ink, v. [ink] Ennegrecer, teñir con tinta. Paitimin, tinain ng tintá. Inkhorn, n. [ínkjorn] Tintero. Tintero, sisidlán ng tintá. Inkling, n. [íncling] Aviso secreto. Upát, sumbong na lihim. Inkstand, n. [ínkstand] Tintero. Tintero, sisidlán ng tintá. Inky, adj. [ínki] De tinta, semejante á la tinta. May tintá, parang tintá. Inland, adj. [ínland] Interior. Lupang náloloob. Inlay, v. [inléi] Ataracear. Papag-iba't ibahin ng kulay. Inlet, n. [ínlet] Entrada. Pasukán. Inmate, n. [ínmet] Inquilino. Ang nangungupahan ng bahay. Inmost, adj. [ínmost] Íntimo. Kasi, kaibuturan. Inn, n. [in] Posada, meson. Dakong pánuluyan. Innate, adj. [inét] Innato, natural. Katutubò, talagá. Inner, adj. [íner] Interior. Loob, sa loob. Innermost, adj. [ínermost] Íntimo. Kaibuturan, káloob-looban. Innocence, n. [ínosens] Inocencia. Kawalán ng malay, kamusmusan. Innocent, adj. [ínosent] Inocente. Walang malay, musmos. Innovate, v. [ínovet] Innovar. Magbago. Innovation, n. [inovécion] Innovacion. Pagbabago. Innoxious, adj. [inócciæs] Inocente, exento de culpa. Walang sala. Innumerable, adj. [iniúmerabl] Innumerable. Dî mabilang, walang bilang. Inoculate, v. [inókiulet] Inocular, ingertar. Bakunahan, tamnán. Inodorous, adj. [inódoræs] Inodoro, sin olor. Walang amoy. Inoffensive, adj. [inofénsiv] Inofensivo, pacífico. Dî nakasasakít, maamò. Inopportune, adj. [inoportiún] Inconveniente, inoportuno. Hindî bagay, walâ sa panahon. Inordinate, adj. [inórdinet] Desordenado. Walang ayos, maguló. Inorganic, adj. [inorgánic] Inorgánico. Walang buhay. Inquest, n. [íncuest] Indagacion, pesquisa. Pag-uusig, pagsisiyasat. Inquire, v. [incuáir] Inquirir, examinar. Siyasatin, litisin. Inquiry, n. [incuáiri] Interrogacion, examinacion. Tanong, siyasat. Inquisition, n. [incuizícion] Inquisicion, escudriñamiento. Siyasat, usig, sinop. Inquisitive, adj. [incuízitiv] Inquisitivo, curioso. Masiyasat, mapagsaliksik. Inquisitor, n [incuízitor] Juez pesquisidor. Mang-uusig na taga-hatol. Inroad, n. [ínrod] Incursión, invasión. Paglusob. Insane, adj. [insén] Insano, loco, demente. Sirâ ang ulo, sirâ ang isip, sirâ ang baít, ulol, baliw, loko. Insanity, n. [insániti] Demencia, insania, locura. Kasiraan ng isip. Insatiable, adj. [insésiabl] Insaciable. Walang kasiyahan, dî nabubusog. Inscribe, v. [inscráib] Inscribir. Isulat. Inscription, n. [inscrípcion] Inscripcion. Sulat. Inscrutable, adj. [inscriútabl] Inescrutable. Dî malirip, dî matarok. Insect, n. [ínsect] Insecto. Mga hayop na maliliit na gaya ng hanip, tutubí, ibp. Insecure, adj. [insikiúr] No está seguro. Dî maasahan, hindî matibay. Insecurity, n. [insikiúriti] Desconfianza; peligro, riesgo. Kawalan ng tiwalà, panganib, pangambá. Insensate, adj. [insénset] Insensato. Walang pakiramdam, walang damdam. Insensibility, n. [insensibíliti] Insensibilidad. Kawalán ng pakiramdam, kawalán ng damdam. Insensible, adj. [insénsibl] Insensible. Walang pakiramdam, walang damdam. Inseparable, adj. [inséparabl] Inseparable. Dî máhiwalay, walang hiwalay. Insert, v. [insért] Insertar, ingerir. Ipasok. Insertion, n. [insércion] Insercion. Pagpapasok. Inside, adv. [ínsaid] Adentro. Sa loob. Inside, n. [ínsaid] Interior. Loob. Insidious, adj. [insídiaus] Insidioso. Swítik. Insight, n. [ínsait] Conocimiento profundo de alguna cosa. Tarok ng isip. Insignia, n. [insígnia] Insignias, estandartes. Watawat, tandâ. Insignificant, adj. [insigníficant] Insignificante. Walang kabuluhan, walang halagá. Insincere, adj. [insensír] Poco sincero. Hindî tapat na loob, giríng pulá. Insincerity, n. [insensériti] Disimulacion. Paggigiríng pulá, paimbabaw. Insinuate, v. [insíninuet] Insinuar. Magparatang, magbintang. Insinuation, n. [insiniuécion] Insinuacion. Paratang, bintang. Insipid, adj. [insípid] Insípido, insulso. Walang lasa, matabang. Insipidity, n. [insipíditi] Insipidez, insulsez. Kawalán ng lasa, tabang. Insist, v. [insíst] Insistir, persistir. Igiit, ipilit. Insolence, n. [ínsolens] Insolencia. Kalaswaan, kapaslangan. Insolent, adj. [ínsolent] Insolente. Lapastangan. Insoluble, adj. [insóliubl] Insoluble, indisoluble. Dî matunaw, dî maagnas, dî makalas. Insolvency, n. [insólvensi] Insolvencia. Ang dî pagkabayad ng utang. Insolvent, adj. [insólvent] Insolvente. Hindî makabayad, walang ikabayad. Insomuch, conj [insomách] De manera que, de modo que. Anopat. Inspect, v. [inspéct] Inspeccionar, reconocer. Pangalagaan, siyasatin, usisain. Inspection, n. [inspéccion] Inspeccion. Pangangalagà, pagsisiyasat. Inspector, n. [inspéctor] Inspector. Tagapangalagà, tagasiyasat. Inspiration, n. [inspirécion] Inspiracion. Kasi, pukaw, guníguní. Inspire, v. [inspáir] Inspirar; introducir el aire exterior en los pulmones. Kasihan; suminghot ng hangin. Inspirit, v. [inspírit] Alentar, animar, dar vigor. Palakasin ang loob, patapangin, buhayin ang loob. Instability, n. [instabíliti] Instabilidad. Karupukan, kahunaan, kahinaan, kabwayán. Install, v. [instól] Instalar. Maglagay, magkanâ. Installation, n. [instalécion] Instalacion. Paglalagay, pagkakanâ. Instance, n. [ínstans] Instancia, solicitud. Pamanhik, luhóg. Instance, v. [ínstans] Ejemplificar, declarar. Kumuhang halimbawà. Instant, adj. [ínstant] Instante. Dalídalì. Instant, n. [ínstant] Instante, momento. Sangdalî. Instantaneous, adj. [instanténioes] Instantáneo. Sangdálian. Instead, prep. [instéd] En lugar de, en vez de. Sa lugar ng, na kahalili ng ó ni. Instep, n. [ínstep] Empeine ó garganta del pié. Bubong ng paa. Instigate, v. [ínstiguet] Instigar, mover. Magbudlong, magbuyó, umudyok. Instigation, n. [instiguécion] Instigacion, sugestion. Udyok, sulsol. Instill, v. [instíl] Instilar. Isalin. Instinct, n. [ínstinc] Instinto. Pakiramdam, pangamoy. Instinctive, adj. [instínctiv] Instintivo. Nauukol sa pakiramdam ó pangamoy. Institute, n. [ínstitiut] Instituto. Instituto, paáralan. Institute, v. [ínstitiut] Instituir, establecer. Magtatag, magbangon. Institution, n. [institiúcion] Institucion, establecimiento. Pagtatatag, pagbabangon. Instruct, v. [instráct] Instruir, enseñar. Magturò, mangaral. Instructor, n. [instráctor] Instructor. Tagapagturò, taga-pagiwí. Instruction, n. [instráccion] Instruccion. Turò, iwí. Instrument, n. [ínstriument] Instrumento. Kasangkapan, instrumento, panugtog. Insubordinate, adj. [insubórdinet] Insubordinado. Lumalabag, swail. Insubordination, n. [insobordinécion] Insubordinacion. Paglabag, pagsway. Insufferable, adj. [inséferabl] Insufrible, insoportable. Hindî matiis, dî mabatá. Insufficiency, n. [insafícienci] Insuficiencia. Kakulangan, kakapusán. Insufficient, adj. [insafícient] Insuficiente. Kulang, kapós. Insular, adj. [ínsiular] Insular. Nauukol sa pulò. Insult, n. [insált] Insulto, ultraje; injuria. Tungayaw, lait, dustâ paslang, siphayò alimura. Insult, v. [insált] Insultar, ultrajar. Tumungayaw, lumait, mamaslang, sumiphayò, umalimura. Insuperable, adj. [insiupérabl] Insuperable. Dî masupil, dî madaig, dî mapasukò. Insupportable, adj. [insaportabl] Insoportable. Dî matiis, dî mabatá. Insurance, n. [insiúrans] Seguro, seguridad. Seguro, katibayan. Insure, v. [incíur] Asegurar. Ipaseguro; sumiguro. Insurgent, n. [insárdchent] Insurgente, amotinado. Nanghihimagsik, lumalaban sa pámahalaan. Insurmountable, adj. [insarmáuntabl] Insuperable. Dî malupig, dî madaig, dî matalo. Insurrection, n. [insureccion] Insurreccion. Panghihimagsik, himagsikan. Intact, adj. [intáct] Intacto, entero. Buô, ganáp, lubós. Intangible, adj. [intándchibl] Intangible. Dî mahipò. Integral, adj. [intígral] Integro. Buô. Integrity, n. [intégriti] Integridad, entereza. Kabuoan, pagtatapát. Intellect, n. [íntelect] Entendimiento. Kaalaman. Intellectual, adj. [intelécchiual] Intelectual. Maalam, matalinò. Intelligence, n. [intélidchens] Inteligencia, conocimiento. Kaalaman, pagkaalam, pagkatalos, pakatantô. Intelligent, adj. [intélidchent] Inteligente, diestro. Maalam, matalinò. Intelligible, adj. [intélidchibl] Inteligible. Madaling maunawà ó matalastas. Intemperance, n. [intémperans] Intemperancia, exceso. Kalabisán, kayamuan. Intemperate, adj. [intémperet] Destemplado, inmoderado. Mayamò, masagwâ. Intend, v. [inténd] Intentar. Akalain, bantain. Intendant, n. [inténdant] Intendente. Tagapamahalà. Intense, adj. [inténs] Intenso; violento. Masinsín; mabisà, masidhî. Intensity, n. [inténsiti] Intensidad. Sinsin; bisà, sidhî. Intent, n. [intént] Intento, designio, intencion. Bantâ, akalà, hakà, panukalá. Intention, n. [intención] Intencion, designio.. Panukalà, hakà. Intentional, adj. [inténcional] Intencional. Kinusà, sinadyâ, talaga. Inter, v. [ínter] Enterrar. Ibaon, ilibíng. Intercalation, n. [intercalécion] Intercalacion. Salít, saglit, paklî, sabad. Intercede, v. [intersíd] Interceder, mediar. Mamagitan, mamanhík. Intercept, n. [intersépt] Interceptar, impedir. Sansalain, sawatain. Interception, n. [intersépcion] Intercepcion. Sansalà, sawatâ. Intercession, n. [intersécion] Intercesion, mediacion. Pamamagitan, pamanhik. Intercessor, n. [intersésor] Intercesor, mediador. Tagapamagitan, pintakasi. Interchange, v. [ínterchendch] Comercio, permuta de géneros. Pangangalakal, pagpapalitan ng kalakal; pálitan. Interchangeable, adj. [interchéndchabl] Permutable. Máipapalit. Intercourse, n. [íntercors] Comunicacion, trato. Sálitaan. Interdict, v. [interdíct] Prohibir, vedar. Magbawal, sumansalà. Interdiction, n. [interdíccion] Interdiccion, prohibicion. Pagbabawal, pagsangsalà. Interest, n. [ínterest] Interés, provecho. Tubò, patubò, pakinabang; hangad, imbot. Interest, v. [ínterest] Interesar, empeñar. Mag imbot, maghangad; magmasakit. Interfere, v. [interfír] Entremeterse, intervenir. Makialam, manghimasok, sumabad. Interference, n. [interfírens] Interposicion, intervencion. Pakikialam, panghihimasok. Interim, n. [ínterim] Intermedio. Pag-itan. Interior, adj. [intírior] Interior, interno. Loob. Interjection, n. [interdchéccion] Interjeccion. Pagkabiglâ, pagkabulalás. Interlace, v. [interlés] Entrelazar, entremezclar. Salitán, sahugan. Interland, v. [interlánd] Entremezclar, entretejer. Ilahok, ihalò, isalít. Interline, v. [interláin] Interlinear. Sumulat sa pagitan ng mga guhit. Interlocution, n. [interlokiúcion] Interlocucion. Sálitaan. Interlocutor, n. [interlókiutor] Interlocutor. Ang nagsasalitâ, ang kausap. Interlope, v. [interlóp] Entremeterse. Makihalò, manghimasok, makialam. Interloper, n. [interlóper] Entremetido. Mapanghimasok, mapakialam. Intermarriage, n. [interméridch] Doble casamiento entre dos familias. Pag-aasawa ng isang lalaki't isang babae ng isang mag-anak sa mga tao ng kasundong ibang mag-anák. Intermeddle, v. [intermédl] Entremeterse. Makialam. Intermediate, adj. [intermídiet] Intermedio. Pag-itan. Interment, n. [intérment] Entierro, funeral. Paglilibing, libíng. Interminable, adj. [intérminabl] Interminable, ilimitado. Walang katapusan. Intermingle, v. [intermíngl] Entremezclar. Makihalò, makihalobilo. Intermission, n. [intermícion] Intermisión, interrupción. Linggatong, likat, pahinga. Internal, adj. [intérnal] Interno. Loob, nasa loob. International, adj. [internácional] Internacional. May kinalaman sa lahat ng bansa. Interpose, v. [interpóz] Interponer, entreponer. Mamagitnâ, mamagitan. Interposition, n. [interpozícion] Interposicion, mediacion. Pamamagitnâ, pamamagitan. Interpret, v. [intérpret] Interpretar. Magpaliwanag, magpaaninaw. Interpretation, n. [interpretécion] Interpretacion. Paliwanag, paaninaw. Interrogate, v. [intérroguet] Interrogar. Tumanong, magtanong. Interrogation, n. [interroguécion] Interrogacion, pregunta. Tanong, pagtatanong. Interrogative, adj. [interrógativ] Interrogativo. Nauukol sa tanong. Interrogatory, n. [interrógatori] Interrogatorio. Tanong. Interrupt, v. [interrúpt] Interrumpir; estorbar. Sumabad, pumaklî; umabala, gumambalà. Interruption, n. [interrúpcion] Interrupcion; obstáculo. Sabad, paklî; abala, gambalà. Intersect, v. [interséct] Entrecortar. Putlín hanggang sa kalagitnaan. Intersperse, n. [interspérs] Esparcir una cosa entre otras. Ilahok, ihalò. Interstice, n. [ínterstis] Intersticio, intervalo. Pag-itan. Interval, n. [ínterval] Intervalo. Pag-itan, yugtô. Intervene, v. [intervín] Intervenir, mediar. Mamagitnâ, mamagitan. Intervention, n. [intervéncion] Intervencion, mediacion. Pamamagitnâ, pamamagitan. Interview, n. [ínterviu] Entrevista, conferencia. Tagpuan, pagkikita; panayam, sálitaan. Interweave, v. [interuív] Entretejer, enlazar. Isalít. Intestate, adj. [intéstet] Intestado. Walang testamento. Intestinal, adj. [intéstinal] Intestinal. Nauukol sa bituka. Intestine, n. [intéstin] Intestino, tripa. Bituka. Intimate, adj. [íntimet] Íntimo, cordial, familiar. Taos, taimtim, tapat na loob, kasi. Intimate, v. [íntimet] Insinuar, dar de entender. Pahalatâ. Intimation, n. [intimécion] Insinuacion indirecta. Pagpapahalatâ. Intimidate, v. [intímidet] Intimidar. Manakot, tumakot. Intimidation, n. [intimidécion] Intimidacion. Pananakot. Into, prep. [íntu] En, dentro. Sa, sa loob. Intolerable, adj. [intólerabl] Intolerable. Dî mabatá, dî matiis. Intolerance, n. [intólerans] Intolerancia. Kawalán ng pagbabatá ó pagtitiis. Intolerant, adj. [intólerant] Intolerante. Dî makapagbatá, dî makatiis; dî makapagpalagpás. Intomb, v. [intúm] Enterrar, sepultar. Ilibíng. Intonation, n. [intonécion] Entonacion. Pagkatugmâ. Intone, v. [intón] Entonar. Tumugmâ. Intoxicate, v. [intócsiket] Embriagar. Lumasing. Intoxication, n. [intocsikécion] Enbriaguez, borrachera. Paglalasing, pagkalangô. Intractable, adj. [intráctabl] Intratable. Masungit, dî mákansap ng mabuti. Intransitive, adj. [intránsitiv] Intransitivo. Sarili. Intrench, v. [intrénch] Atrincherar. Magkutà, magtrinchera. Intrenchment, n. [intrénchment] Atrincheramiento. Pagkukutà, pagtitrinchera. Intrepid, adj. [intrépid] Intrépido, arrojado. Pangahas, walang takot. Intrepidity, n. [intripíditi] Intrepidez, osadía. Kapangahasan, pagkawalang takot. Intricacy, n. [íntrikesi] Embrollo, embarazo; dificultad. Guló, labò, sikot; abala; hirap. Intricate, adj. [íntriket] Intricado, complicado. Maguló, pasikotsikot, malabò; mahirap. Intrigue, n. [intríg] Intriga, trama. Laláng. Intrigue, v. [intríg] Intrigar. Magpakanâ ng laláng. Intrinsical, adj. [intrínsical] Intrínseco; interno. Sa laob, loob. Introduce, v. [introdiús] Presentar; introducir. Ipakilala; ipasok. Introduction, n. [introdáccion] Presentacion; introduccion. Pagpapakilala; pagpapasok. Intrude, v. [intriúd] Entremeterse. Makialam, manghimasok. Intrusion, n. [intriúcion] Intrusion, entremetimiento. Pakikialam. Intrusive, adj. [intriúsiv] Intruso. Nauukol sa pakikialam. Intrust, v. [intrást] Confiar, fiar. Magkatiwalà, tumiwalà. Intuition, n. [intiuícion] Intuicion. Pángitain. Intwine, v. [intwáin] Entrelazar una cosa con otra torciéndolas. Papaglikaw likawin. Inundate, v. [inúndet] Inundar. Bumahâ, umapaw ang tubig. Inundation, n. [inundécion] Inundacion. Bahâ, pag-apaw ng tubig. Inure, v. [iniúr] Acostumbrar, habituar. Mahirati, mabihasa. Inurement, n. [iníurment] Hábito, costumbre. Pagkahirati, pagkabihasa. Inutility, n. [iniutíliti] Inutilidad. Kawalán ng kabuluhan. Invade, v. [invéd] Invadir, acometer, asaltar. Lumusob, dumaluhong, humarang, sumalakay. Invalid, adj. & n. [inválid] Inválido. Walang kabuluhan, lampá, unsiamí. Invalidate, v. [inválidet] Invalidar, anular. Pawalán ng kabuluhan. Invaluable, adj. [inváliuabl] Invaluable, inapreciable. Lubhang mahalaga. Invariable, adj. [invériabl] Invariable. Hindî mababago. Invasion, n. [invécion] Invasion. Paglusob, pagsalakay. Invective, adj. [invéctiv] Invectiva. Nanunungayaw, umaalipustâ, nanglalait. Inveigle, v. [invígl] Seducir, persuadir, engañar con arte y maña. Manghikayat, manulsol, manghibò. Invent, v. [invént] Inventar, descubrir. Kumathâ, lumikhâ. Invention, n. [invéncion] Invencion. Kathâ, likhâ. Inventor, n. [invéntor] Inventor. Maykathâ, maylikhâ. Inventory, n. [ínventori] Inventario. Tálaan ng mga pag aarì. Inverse, adj. [invérs] Inverso, trastornado. Tiwalî, baligtad, maguló. Inversion, n. [invércion] Inversion. Katiwalían, pagkabaligtad. Invert, v. [invért] Invertir, trastornar. Tiwaliin, baligtarin, guluhin. Invest, v. [invést] Invertir; sitiar; invertir, emplear. Bigyan ng katungkulan ó karangalan; lumusob; gugulin. Investigate, v. [invéstiguet] Investigar, averiguar. Siyasatin, usisain; sumiyasat, mag-usisà. Investigation, n. [investiguécion] Investigacion, averiguacion. Pagsisiyasat, paguusisà. Investment, n. [invéstment] Vestido; la inversion ó empleo del dinero. Kasuutan; pag-uukol ng salapî sa pangangalakal. Inveterate, adj. [invéteret] Inveterado. Matigas ang ulo. Invigorate, v. [invígoret] Vigorar, dar vigor. Buhayin ang loob, palakasin ang loob. Invigoration, n. [invigorécion] El acto de vigorar. Pagpapalakas ng loob. Invincible, adj. [invínsibl] Invencible. Dî matalo, dî mapasukò. Inviolable, adj. [invaiólabl] Inviolable, invulnerable. Dî madahás, dî tablán. Inviolate, adj. [inváiolet] Ileso, íntegro. Dî naanó, buô. Invisible, adj. [invízibl] Invisible. Dî makita. Invitation, n. [invitécion] Invitacion, convite. Anyaya, pigíng. Invite, v. [inváit] Invitar, convidar. Mag-anyaya; anyayahan. Invocate, v. [ínvoket] Invocar, implorar. Dumalangin, sumamò, tumawag. Invocation, n. [invokécion] Invocacion. Dalangin, tawag. Invoice, n. [ínvois] Factura. Tálaan ng mga halagá ng tindá ó kalakal. Invoke, v. [invók] Invocar, implorar, suplicar. Manalangin, sumamò, mamanhik. Involuntary, adj. [invólunteri] Involuntario. Dî sinasadyâ, dî kusà. Involution, n. [involiúcion] La accion de envolver. Pagtiklop, paglupì. Involve, v. [invólv] Envolver, arrollar. Tumiklop, bumalot, lumulon. Invulnerable, adj. [invélnerabl] Invulnerable. Dî tablán, dî masaktan. Inward, adj. [ínward] Interior. Loob, náloloob. Inward, adv. [ínward] Hácia dentro, adentro. Sa dakong loob, sa loob. Irascible, adj. [irásibl] Irascible. Magagalitín. Irate, adj. [irét] Iracundo. Magagalitín. Ire, n. [áir] Ira, enojo, enfado. Galit, poot. Ireful, adj. [áirful] Iracundo, colérico. Magagalitín. Iris, n. [áiris] Arco iris. Bahag-harì. Irish, adj. & n. [áirish] Irlandes. Taga Irlanda. Irk, v. [ærc] Fastidiar. Yamamot, uminíp. Irksome, adj. [írcsam] Tedioso, fastidioso. Nakayayamot, nakaiinip. Iron, n. [áiron] Hierro. Bakal. Iron, v. [áiron] Aplanchar, planchar. Mamirinsa. Ironic, adj. [airónic] Irónico. Balintunà. Irony, n. [áironi] Ironía. Balintunà. Irradiance, n. [irrédians] Irradiacion. Ningning, kintab. Irradiate, v. [irrédiet] Irradiar, brillar. Numingning, kumintab. Irrational, adj. [irrácional] Irracional. Walang katwiran. Irreconcilable, adj. [irreconsáilabl] Irreconciliable. Dî mákasundô. Irrecoverable, adj. [irrikóverabl] Irrecuperable. Dî mabawì. Irredeemable, adj. [irridímabl] Irredimible. Dî matubós. Irreducible, adj. [irridiúsibl] Irreducible. Dî mabawasan. Irrefutable, adj. [irrifiútabl] Indubitable. Dî máikakailâ. Irregular, adj. [irréguiular] Irregular. Walâ sa ayos. Irrelative, adj. [irrélativ] Sin regla, sin orden. Walang ayos. Irrelevant, adj. [irrélevant] No aplicable. Hindî bagay. Irreligion, n. [irrilídchen] Irreligion. Kawalan ng kapanampalatayahán. Irreligious, adj. [irrilídches] Irreligioso, impío. Walang pananampalataya, swail. Irremediable, adj. [irrimídiabl] Irremediable. Dî malunasan. Irreparable, adj. [irréparabl] Irreparable. Dî máiulî. Irrepressible, adj. [irriprésibl] Lo que no puede ser oprimido. Dî mapighatì. Irreproachable, adj. [irripróchabl] Intachable, incensurable. Walang kapintasan. Irresistible, adj. [irrizístibl] Irresistible. Dî malabanan. Irresolute, adj. [irrézoliut] Irresoluto, indeciso. Álanganin, sálawahan, urong-sulóng. Irresolution, n. [irrezoliúcion] Irresolucion. Pag-aalanganin, pagsasalawahan, pag-uurong-sulong. Irrespective, adj. [irrispéctiv] Inconsiderado. Walang pakundangan. Irresponsible, adj. [irrispónsibl] No responsable. Walang pananagutan, walang sukat ipanagot. Irretrievable, adj. [irritrívabl] Irrecuperable. Dî mabawì. Irreverance, n. [irréverens] Irreverencia. Pagkawalang galang. Irreverent, adj. [irréverent] Irreverente, descortes. Walang galang, walang pitagan. Irrevocable, adj. [irrévocabl] Irrevocable. Dî mababago. Irrigate, v. [írriguet] Regar. Magdilig; patubigan. Irrigation, n. [irriguécion] Riego. Pagdidilig; pagpapatubig. Irritability, n. [irritabíliti] Irritabilidad. Yamot, iníp. Irritable, adj. [írritabl] Irritable. Mayayamutin. Irritate, v. [írritet] Irritar. Mayamot. Irritation, n. [irritécion] Irritacion. Yamot. Irruption, n. [irrápcion] Irrupcion. Silakbó, sigalbó. Island, n. [áiland] Isla. Pulò. Isle, n. [áisl] Isla. Pulò. Islet, n. [áilet] Isleta. Munting pulò. Isolate, v. [ísolet] Aislar. Ilayô, itiwalag, ibukod. Israelite, n. [isriálait] Israelita. Taga Israel. Issue, n. [ísiu] Salida, evento, resulta; flujo. Paglabas, pangyayari; agas. Issue, v. [ísiu] Salir, brotar; despachar. Lumabas, umagas; lutasin. It, pron. [it] Lo. Yaon, iyan, siya. Italian, adj. & n. [itáliæn] Italiano. Taga Italya. Italic, adj. [itálic] Letra cursiva. Titik na kursiba. Itch, n. [itch] Sarna; picazon. Galís; bantál. Itch, v. [itch] Picar. Humapdî, kumirot. Item, n. [áitem] Item, otro si. Iyan din, gayon din. Iterate, v. [íteret] Repetir. Ulitin. Iteration, n. [iterécion] Repeticion, reiteracion. Ulit. Itinerant, adj. [aitínerant] Itinerante, errante. Palakad-lakad, pagalà-gala. Itinerate, v. [aitíneret] Viajar. Maglakbay. Itself, pron. [itsélf] El mismo, la misma, lo mismo. Siya rin, siya ngâ. Ivory, n. [áivori] Marfil. Garing, pangil ng elepante. Ivy, n. [áivi] Hiedra. Baging; lipay. J Jabber, v. [jábber] Charlar. Sumatsat. Jabberer, n. [jáberer] Parlanchin. Palasatsat. Jack, n. [dchek] Juanito, la sota entre los naipes. Swan; sota ng baraha. Jackanapes, n. [dchácaneps] Impertinente, mequetrefe. Malikót, mapakialam. Jacket, n. [dcháket] Chaqueta. Chaketa; barong maiklî. Jacobin, n. [dchácobin] Fraile dominicano. Prayleng dominiko. Jaculate, v. [dchákiulet] Lanzar, arrojar. Itulak. Jade, n. [dched] Caballo alquilon; mujercilla. Kabayong páupahan; masamang babae. Jade, v. [dched] Cansar. Pumagod, mamagod. Jag, n. [dchag] Diente de sierra. Ngipin ng lagarì. Jagged, adj. [dchágued] Desigual; dentado. Hindî pantay; may ngipin [na gaya ng sa lagarè]. Jail, n. [dchel] Cárcel. Bílangguan, bilibid. Jailbird, n. [dchélberd] Preso. Bilanggô. Jailer, n. [dchéler] Carcelero. Tagapamahalà sa mga bilanggô. Jam, n. [dcham] Conserva ó mermelada de frutas. Halea. Jam, v. [dcham] Apretar, estrechar. Ipitin. Jangle, v. [dchangl] Reñir, altercar. Makipagkaalit, makipagtalo. Janitor, n. [dchánitor] Conserge. Katiwalà sa bahay-páaralan. Janty, adj. [dchánti] Ostentoso, delicado. Maselang, mapagmakisíg. January, n. [dchániueri] Enero. Enero. Japan, n. [dchapán] Japon. Hapón. Japanese, adj. [dchápanis] Japon. Hapón, taga Hapón. Jar, n. [dchar] Jarro; tinaja; cántaro; tarro. Saro; tapayan, bangâ, tabò. Jargon, n. [dchárgon] Jerigonza. Salitang dî mawawaan, salitang utal. Jaunt, n. [dchant] Excursion. Pagliliwaliw, pasyal. Jaunty, adj. [dchánti] Alegre, festivo. Masayá, twâ, galak. Jaw, n. [dcho] Quijada. Pangá. Jawbone, n. [dchóbon] Quijada. Sihang, pangá. Jay, n. [dche] Gayo. Isang urì ng ibon. Jealous, adj. [dchílas] Zeloso; envidioso. Mapanibughuin, mainggitin. Jealousy, n. [dchélasi] Zelos, sospecha, rezelo. Panibughô, pangimbulo, inggit, hinalà. Jeer, n. [dchir] Mofa, burla. Tuksó, birò. Jeer, v. [dchir] Mofar, escarnecer. Manuksó, magbirô. Jehovah, n. [dchijóba] Johová. Heobá, panginoon. Jelly, n. [dchéli] Jalea, jelatina. Haleá, matamís. Jeopardize, v. [dchépardais] Poner en riesgo; arriesgar. Ipanganyayà, isapanganib; mangahas. Jeopardy, n. [dchépardi] Riesgo, peligro. Panganib, panganyayà, pangambà. Jerk, n. [dcherc] Latigazo, sacudida. Hagupít, hampas. Jerk, v. [dcherc] Sacudir, azotar. Hagupitín, hampasin. Jest, n. [dchest] Chanza, burla. Birò, pagpapatawá. Jest, v. [dchest] Bufonearse, burlarse. Magbirô, magpatawá. Jester, n. [dchéster] Mofador, bufon. Palabirô, mapagpatawa. Jesuit, n. [dchéziuit] Jesuita. Heswita. Jesuitic, adj. [dchezuític] Jesuítico. Nauukol sa heswita. Jesus, n. [dchísas] Jesus. Hesús. Jet, v. [dchet] Echar, lanzar. Bumulwak, sumalumpit, lumabas ng pabliglâ, bumugá. Jew, n. [dchiú] Judio. Hudyó. Jewel, n. [dchíul] Joya. Hiyas. Jeweller, n. [dchiúler] Joyero. Mángangalakal ng hiyas. Jewish, adj. [dchiúish] Judáico, judío. Nauukol sa hudyó. Jiffy, n. [dchífi] Instante, momento. Sangdalî. Jig, n. [dchig] Baile alegre. Sayaw na masayá. Jilt, n. [dchilt] Coqueta. Landî, kirí. Jilt, v. [dchilt] Coquetear. Lumandî, kumirí. Jingle, n. [dchingl] Retintín, resonido. Kalansing, tunog. Jingle, v. [dchingl] Retiñir, resonar. Kumalansing. Job, n. [dchob] Friolera, labor ó trabajo de poco momento. Gawâ, trabaho. Jockey, n. [dchóki] Jinete. Mánanakay sa kabayo. Jockey, v. [dchóki] Trampear, engañar. Mangdayà, manghibò. Jocose, adj. [dchocós] Jocoso, alegre, festivo, jovial. Masayá, galák, mapagpatawá. Jocoseness, n. [dchocósnes] Jocosidad, festividad, alegría. Kasayahan, kagalakan, pagpapatawá. Jocosity = jocoseness. Jocular, adj. [dchókiular] Jocoso, alegre. Mapagpatawá, masayá. Jocularity, n [dchokiuláriti] Festividad, jocosidad. Pagpapatawa, pagsasayá. Jocund, adj. [dchókand] Alegre, festivo. Masayá. Jog, n. [dchog] Empellon, sacudimiento lijero. Tabig, tulak. Jog, v. [dchog] Empujar. Manulak. Joggle, v. [dchógl] Agitarse con movimiento trémulo. Umalog, kumalog. Join, v. [dchóin] Juntar, unir; añadir. Isama, isanib; iakmâ, ikamá, ílangkap; idagdag. Joint, n. [dchóint] Coyuntura. Kasukasuan. Joint, v. [dchóint] Juntar, agregar. Sumama, sumanib. Jointly, adv. [dchóintli] Juntamente. Samasama. Joist, n. [dchóist] Viga de bovedilla ó suelo. Soleras. Joke, n. [dchok] Chanza, burla. Birò, tuksó. Joke, v. [dchok] Chancear. Magbirô, manuksó, mangbadyá. Joker, n. [dchóker] Burlon, chancero. Palabirô, mánunuksó. Jollity, n. [dchóliti] Alegría, regocijo. Sayá, galak; kasayahan, kagalakan. Jolliness = jollity. Jolly, adj. [dchóli] Alegre, festivo. Masayá, galák. Jolt, n. [dcholt] Traqueo. Putók. Jolt, v. [dcholt] Traquear. Pumutok. Jostle, v. [josl] Reempujar. Magtulak. Jot, n. [dchot] Jota, tilde, punto. Punto, tuldok. Jot, v. [dchot] Apuntar. Italâ. Journal, n. [dchérnal] Diario. Páhayagang, pang-araw-araw. Journalism, n. [dchérnalism] Periodismo. Panunulat sa páhayagan. Journalist, n. [dchérnalist] Periodista, diarista. Mánunulat sa páhayagan. Journey, n. [dchérni] Jornada, viaje. Paglalakbay, paglalakad. Journey, v. [dchérni] Viajar. Maglakbay. Journeyman, n. [dchérniman] Jornalero. Mang-aaráw. Journey-work, n. [dehérniuerk] Jornal. Upa. Jovial, adj. [dchóvial] Jovial, festivo. Masayá. Joviality, n. [dchoviáliti] Jovialidad, festividad. Sayá. Joy, n. [dchoy] Gozo, júbilo. Galák, kagalakán. Joy, v. [dchoy] Regocijarse, recrearse. Magalak, matwâ. Joyous, adj. [dchóias] Alegre, gozoso. Galák, masayá. Joyful = joyous. Joyless, adj. [dchóiles] Triste, sin alegria. Mapanglaw, walang kasayahan. Joyfulness, n. [dchóyfulnes] Alegria, júbilo. Sayá, galák. Jubilant, adj. [dchiúbilant] Lleno de júbilo. Puspos ng kagalakan. Jubilation, n. [dchiubilécion] Júbilo, regocijo. Kagalakan. Jubilee, n. [dchiúbili] Jubileo. Hubileó, isang pistá ng mga taga Israel. Judaical, adj. [dchiudéical] Judaico. Nauukol sa mga Hudyó. Judaism, n. [dchiúdeizm] Judaismo. Pananampalataya ng mga Hudyó. Judge, n. [dchadch] Juez. Hukom. Judge, v. [dchadch] Juzgar. Humatol, humukom. Judgment, n. [dchádchment] Juicio. Hatol, paghuhukom. Judge of Peace, n. [dchadch of piz] Juez de Paz. Hukom-tagapamayapà. Judicial, adj. [dchiudícial] Judicial. Nauukol sa húkuman. Judiciary, adj. [dchiudícieri] Judiciario. Nauukol sa húkuman. Judicious, adj. [dchiudícias] Juicioso, prudente. Mabait, matalinò. Jug, n. [dchag] Jarro. Sisidlán ng mga bagay na lusaw. Juggle, n. [dchagl] Juego de manos. Salamangká. Juggle, v. [dchagl] Hacer juegos de manos. Magsalamangká. Juggler, n. [dchágler] Juglar. Mánanalamangká, salamangkero. Juice, n. [dchiús] Zumo, jugo. Katás. Juiceless, adj. [dchiúsles] Seco, sin jugo. Walang katás. Juicy, adj. [dchiúsi] Jugoso. Makatás. July, n. [dchuláy] Julio. Hulyo. Jumble, n. [dchémbl] Mezcla. Halò. Jumble, v. [dchémbl] Mezclar. Ihalò. Jump, n. [dchamp] Salto, brinco. Luksó, lundág. Jump, v. [dchamp] Saltar, brincar. Lumuksó, lumundag. Junction, n. [dcúnccion] Junta, union. Karugtong, kaanib. Juncture, n. [jénccher] Juntura, coyuntura. Kaugpong, kasugpong. June, n. [dchun] Junio. Hunyo. Jungle, n. [dchangl] Matorral. Sukal ng matataas na damó; gubat. Junior, adj. [dchúnior] Más joven. Lalong batà. Junk, n. [dchenk] Junco. Talbak. Junket, n. [dchénket] Dulce seco. Matamís. Junket, v. [dchénket] Dar un convite en secreto. Magpigíng ng lihim. Junta, n. [dchúnta] Junta, reunion. Pulong, kapulungan. Juridical, adj. [dchiurídical] Jurídico, judicial. Nauukol sa hukuman. Jurisdiction, n. [dchiurísdiccion] Jurisdiccion. Pook na saklaw. Jury, n. [dchiúri] Jurado. Tagahatol, inang-palan. Just, adj. [dchast] Justo, recto. Ganap, tapát, matwid. Just, adv. [dchast] Justamente, exactamente. Sukat, ganáp. Justice, n. [dchástis] Justicia. Kaganapan, katwiran, kapangyarihan. Justifiable, adj. [dchástifaiabl] Justificable, conforme á razon. Sang-ayon sa katwiran. Justification, n. [dchastifikécion] Justificacion. Pagmamatwid. Justify, v. [dchástifay] Justificar. Magbigay matwid; magpatotoo; patotohanan, patunayan. Jut, v. [dchat] Chocar en algo cuando se va corriendo. Makásagasà, makábanggâ. Juvenile, adj. [dchiúvenil] Juvenil. Nauukol sa pagkabatà. Juvenility, n. [dchiuveníliti] Mocedad, juventud. Pagkabatà, kabataan. K K, [ke] Ka (ka). K (ka). Kail, n. [kel] Berza. Repolyo. Kale = kail. Keck, v. [kec] Querer vomitar, tener nauseas. Umalibadbad. Keel, n. [kil] Quilla. Kilya. Keen, adj. [kin] Afilado, agudo; penetrante; sutil. Matalas, matulis; matalinò; tuso. Keenness, n. [kínes] Agudeza, sutileza, perspicacia. Katalasan, katulisan, katalinuan, katusuhan. Keep, v. [kip] Guardar. Mag-ingat. Keeper, n. [kíper] Guardían. Tagapag-ingat. Keeping, n. [kíping] Custodia, guarda. Pag-aalagà, pag-iingat. Keepsake, n. [kípsek] Dádiva, regalo. Kaloob, bigáy. Keg, n. [keg] Cuñete, barrilito. Bariles na muntî. Ken, n. [ken] Vista. Tanaw. Kennel, n. [kénel] Perrera. Kulungan ng aso. Kerchief, n. [kérchif] Cofia, pañuelo. Alampay, birang, panyô. Kernel, n. [kérnel] Pepita. Butó ng bunga ng kahoy. Kettle, n. [ketl] Caldera. Kawa. Kettle-drum, n. [kétl-dram] Timbal, atabal. Gimbal. Key, n. [ki] Llave, clave. Susì. Keyhole, n. [kíjol] Agujero de la llave. Butas ng susì. Keystone, n. [kíston] Llave de un arco ó bóveda. Batong pangsará ng arkó. Kick, n. [kic] Puntapié, patada. Sipà, sikad, tadyak. Kick, v. [kic] Patear, acocear. Manipá, sumipà, manikad, manadyak. Kid, n. [kid] Cabrito. Batang kambíng. Kidnap, v. [kídnap] Hurtar ó robar niños. Magnakaw ng batà. Kidney, n. [kídni] Riñon. Bató ng katawán. Kilderkin, n. [kílderkin] Medio barril. Kalahating barriles. Kill, v. [kil] Matar, asesinar. Pumatay. Kiln, n. [kiln] Horno. Hurnó. Kiln-dry, v. [kílndray] Secar ó quemar alguna cosa en horno. Magsangag. Kimbo, adj. [kímbo] Encorvado, arqueado. Baluktot, bakukô. Kin, n. [kin] Parentesco, vínculo. Hinlog, kamag-anak. Kind, adj. [káind] Benévolo, bondadoso, benéfico. Magandang loob, butihin, mabuting asal. Kind, n. [káind] Especie, calidad. Urì, klase. Kindle, v. [kíndl] Encender; inflamar, enardecer. Magtitis, magsindí; magpaningas. Kindness, n. [káindnes] Benevolencia. Kagandahang-loob, kabutihang ugalì. Kindred, adj. [kíndred] Emparentado. Kamag-anak. Kindred, n. [kindred] Parentesco, parentela, casta. Kahinlugan, kamag-anakan, angkan. King, n. [king] Rey. Harì. Kingdom, n. [kíngdom] Reyno. Kaharian. Kingfisher, n. [kíngfisier] Martin pescador. Lumbas, isang urì ng ibon. Kinglike, adj. [kingláik] Regio. Parang harì. Kingly = kinglike. Kinsfolk, n. [kínsfolc] Parentela, parientes. Kamag-anak, kamag-anakan. Kinship, n. [kínship] Parentela. Kamag-anakan. Kinsman, n. [kínsman] Pariente. Kamag-anak. Kinswoman, n. [kinswúman] Parienta. Kamag-anak na babae. Kirk, n. [kerk] Iglesia. Simbahan. Kirtle, n. [kertl] Manto, capa. Balabal. Kiss, n. [kis] Beso. Halík. Kiss, v. [kis] Besar. Humalík. Kit, n. [kit] Botellon. Malaking bote. Kitchen, n. [kíchen] Cocina. Kusinà. Kite, n. [káit] Milano; cometa, papelote. Lawin; bolador. Kitten, n. [kitn] Gatito. Kutíng. Knack, n. [nac] Destreza, habilidad. Katalinuan. Knar, n. [nar] Nudo. Bukó. Knarled, adj. [narld] Nudoso. Mabukó. Knave, n. [nev] Bribon, pícaro. Switik, malikot, palamara. Knavery, n. [néveri] Pillardia, travesura. Kalikutan, gawang masamâ. Knavish, adj. [névish] Picaro, travieso. Malikot, masamâ. Knead, v. [nid] Amasar. Magmasa; masahin. Kneading-trough, n [níding-trof] Amasadera. Pangmasa. Knee, n. [ni] Rodilla. Tuhod. Kneel, v. [nil] Arrodillarse. Lumuhod. Knell, n. [nel] Clamoreo. Taginting. Knickerbockers, n. [níkerbokers] Calzones de cazador. Salawal na putol. Knife, n. [náif] Cuchillo. Sundang, lanseta. Knit, v. [nit] Enlazar, entretejer, trabajar á punto de aguja. Manahî, gumanchilyo. Knitting-needle, n. [níting-nídl] Aguja de hacer medias de punta. Pangganchilyo. Knob, n. [nob] Bulto; nudo en la madera; boton de las flores. Umbók; bukó ng kahoy; búko ng bulaklak. Knobby, adj. [nóbi] Lleno de nudos. Mabukó. Knock, n. [noc] Golpe, llamada. Tuktók, tawag. Knock, v. [noc] Tocar, llamar. Tumuktok, tumawag, patao. Knoll, n. [nol] Cima de una colina. Taluktok, tugatog. Knot, n. [not] Nudo, atadura ó ligadura que se hace en cualquier hilo, cuerda ó cinta. Buhol, talì, talibugsô. Knot, v. [not] Anudar. Ibuhol, italibugsô. Knotted, adj. [nóted] Nudoso. Mabuhól. Knotty, adj. [nóti] Nudoso. Mabuhól. Know, v. [nu] Saber, conocer. Makaalam, makakilala. Knowing, adj. [núing] Instruido, inteligente, entendido. Matalinò, maalam, marunong. Knowledge, n. [nóledch] Conocimiento, inteligencia. Kaalaman, pagkakilala, pagkatalós. Knuckle, n. [nákl] Artejo; nudillo de los dedos. Bukó ng dalirì. Koran, n. [córan] Alcoran. Koran ó banal na aklat ng mga moro. L Label, n. [lébel] Esquela, billete, nota. Sulat, tandâ, pahiwatig. Label, v. [lébel] Rotular ó señalar alguna cosa con un rótulo. Magtandâ ó maglagay ng tandâ. Labial, adj. [lébial] Labial. Nauukol sa labì; salitâ ng labì. Labor, n. [lébor] Trabajo, labor, fatiga. Gawâ, trabaho. Labor, v. [lébor] Trabajar; esforzarse. Gumawâ, magtrabaho; magsikap. Laborer, n. [léborer] Trabajador, jornalero. Manggagawà, mang-aaráw. Laborious, adj. [lebóriæs] Laborioso, trabajoso, penoso, dificil. Matrabaho, mahirap. Laboratory, n. [láboretori] Laboratorio. Laboratoryo. Labyrinth, n. [lábirinz] Laberinto. Dakong salísalimuot ang daan. Lace, n. [leíz] Lazo, cordón, encaje. Laso, panalì, enkahe. Lacerate, v. [láseret] Lacerar, despedazar. Wahiin, hapakin, pilasin. Laceration, n. [laserécion] Laceracion, desgarradura. Pagwahì, paghapak, pagpilas. Lachrymal, adj. [lácrimal] Lacrimal. Nauukol sa luhà. Lachrymose, adj. [lácrimos] Lloroso. Luháan. Lack, n. [lac] Falta, menester. Kulang, kakulangan, kailangan. Lack, v. [lac] Faltar algo, carecer, necesitar. Magkulang, mangailangan. Lacker, n. [láker] Laca, especie de barniz. Laka, isang klase ng; barnis. Lacker, v. [láker] Barnizar. Barnisán. Lackey, n. [láki] Lacayo. Katulong ng kuchero. Laconic, adj. [lecónic] Lacónico, breve, conciso. Maiklî, madalî. Laconical = Laconic. Lacquer, n. [láker] Laca. Laka. Lad, n. [lad] Mozo, muchacho. Batà, bataan. Ladder, n. [láder] Escala ó escalera portátil. Hagdang mataas. Lade, v. [leíd] Cargar. Magpasan, magdalá. Lading, n. [léding] Carga. Pasán. Ladle, n. [lédl] Cucharón. Sandok, panandok. Ladleful, n. [lédlful] Cucharada. Sandok, pagsandok. Lady, n. [lédi] Señora, dama, señorita. Ginang, ale, gining. Ladylike, adj. [lédi-laik] Delicado, afeminado. Mahinhin, maselang, parang babae. Ladylove, n. [lédilav] Dama, querida. Ang nililigawan. Ladyship, n. [lédiship] Señoría. Pagkaginang, pagkaginoong babae. Lag, v. [lag] Moverse lentamente, quedarse atrás. Mag-utay-utay, magpáhuli. Laggard, adj. [lágard] Tardío, holgazan. Makupad, mabagal, pagayon-gayon. Laggard, n. [lágard] Haragán, holgazán. Pagayon-gayon, tamad. Lagoon, n. [lagún] Laguna. Dagat-dagatan. Lair, n. [leír] Cubil, pastura. Dakong pinagpapanginainan sa mga alagang hayop. Lake, n. [leík] Laguna. Dagat-dagatan. Lamb, n. [lamb] Cordero. Batang tupa, kordero. Lambent, adj. [lámbent] Centelleante. Maningning, makislap, makintab. Lambkin, n. [lámbkin] Corderito. Tupang muntî. Lame, adj. [leím] Cojo, estropeado. Piláy, hingkod. Lame, v. [leím] Lisiar, estropear. Pilayin, pilayan. Lameness, n. [leímnes] Cojera. Pílay, pagkapilay. Lament, n. [lamént] Lamento. Panaghoy, panangis. Lament, v. [lamént] Lamentar (se). Managhoy, manangis. Lamentable, adj. [lámentabl] Lamentable, deplorable, lastimoso. Kasakit-sakit, kahabag-habag, kahina-hinayang. Lamentation, n. [lamentécion] Lamentacion, gemido. Panaghoy, daíng, hibík. Lamp, n. [lamp] Lámpara. Ilawán. Lampblack, n. [lámpblac] Negro de humo. Agiw ng usok. Lampoon, n. [lampún] Sátira ó escrito insultable, libelo. Pamamaslang, paninirang puri, uyam. Lamp-post, n. [lamp-post] Candelabro. Kandilang malaké. Lance, n. [lans] Lanza. Sibát. Lance, v. [lans] Dar un lancetazo. Tumudlâ, sumibat. Lancer, n. [láncer] Lancero. Kawal na may sibat. Lancet, n. [lánset] Lanceta. Lanseta. Land, n. [land] Terreno; tierra. Lupà. Land, v. [land] Desembarcar, saltar en tierra. Lumunsad, dumaóng, pumundó. Landed, adj. [lánded] Hacendado desembarcado. May maraming pag-aaring lupà; inilunsad. Land-forces, n. [lánd-forses] Tropas de tierra. Hukbó sa lupà. Landholder, n. [landjólder] Hacendado. May malaking pag-aaring lupà. Landing, n. [lánding] Desembarco. Paglunsad. Landing-place, n. [lánding-pleís] Desembarcadero. Daungan, lunsaran. Landlady, n. [lándledi] Casera, huéspeda. Ang babaing may arì ng otel ó pánuluyang bahay. Landlord, n. [lándlord] Casero, huesped. Ang lalaking may arì ng otel ó pánuluyang bahay. Landmark, n. [lándmark] Mojon, marca. Patoto, tandâ. Landscape, n. [lándskep] Paisaje. Tánawin. Land-tax, n. [lánd-tacs] Tributo sobre tierras. Bwis sa lupà, bayad sa lupà. Lane, n. [leín] Callejuela. Daang makipot. Language, n. [léngüedch] Lengua, lenguaje. Wikà, pananalitâ. Languid, adj. [lánguid] Lánguido, melancólico. Malamlam, mapanlaw. Languish, v. [langüish] Decaecer, extenuarse, entristecerse. Manglatâ, manghinà, manghilukà, mamanlaw. Languor, n. [lánguor] Languidez, desfallecimiento. Lamlám, panglalatâ. Lank, adj. [lanc] Flojo. Mahinà. Lansquenet, n. [lánskenet] Soldado de á pie. Kawal na lakád. Lantern, n. [lantern] Linterna, farol. Parol. Lap, n. [lap] Faldas, regazo. Kandungan, sinapupunan. Lap, v. [lap] Lamer alguna cosa. Humimod. Lapel, n. [lápel] Solapa. Tiklop ng damit. Lapidary, n. [lápidari] Lapidario. Nauukol sa mga titik ng mga lápida. Lapse, n. [laps] Lapso; caida, desliz, traspié. Pagitan; pagkadulas, pagkakamalî. Larboard, n. [lárbord] Babor. Dakong kaliwâ ng sasakyang-tubig. Larceny, n. [lárseni] Ratería. Panenekas. Lard, n. [lard] Manteca de puerco. Mantikà. Larder, n. [lárder] Despensa. Páminggalan. Large, adj. [lardch] Grande. Malake. Largeness, n. [lárdchnes] Grandor, extension. Laké, kalakhan. Largess, n. [lárdches] Liberalidad. Kagandahang asal. Lark, n. [lark] Alondra. Langay-langayan, isang klase ng ibon. Larva, n. [lárva] Larva ú oruga. Uod. Larynx, n. [lárincs] Laringe. Lalamunan. Lascivious, adj. [lasíviæs] Lascivo. Malibog. Lash, n. [lash] Latigazo. Hagupít. Lash, v. [lash] Dar latigazos. Manghagupít. Lass, n. [lass] Doncella, moza. Dalaga. Lassitude, n. [lésitiud] Lasitud, fatiga. Kahinaan, kapagalan. Last, adj. [last] Último, postrero. Hulí, katapusán, wakás. Last, v. [last] Durar, permanecer. Magtagal, maglwat. Lasting, adj. [lásting] Duradero, permanente. Matagal, malwat. Latch, n. [latch] Aldaba de puerta. Kandado. Latch, v. [latch] Cerrar con aldaba. Ikandado. Latchet, n. [láchet] Agujeta de zapato. Talì ng sapatos. Late, adj. [leít] Tardío. Tanghalì, matagal, malaon, malwat. Late, adv. [leít] Tarde. Tanghalì. Lately, adv. [leítli] Recientemente. Ngayon lamang. Latent, adj. [létent] Escondido, oculto, secreto. Tagô, lingíd, lihim. Lateral, adj. [láteral] Lateral. Patagilíd. Lath, n. [laz] Lata; liston. Lata, liston. Lath, v. [laz] Poner latas en las techumbres. Magbubong ng lata. Lathe, n. [laz] Trompo. Trumpó. Lather, n. [ládzer] Jabonaduras. Bulâ ng sabon. Lather, v. [ládzer] Bañar con espuma de jabon. Magsabon ng katawan. Latin, n. [látin] Latin. Latin. Latitude, n. [látitiud] Latitud. Layô, agwat. Latten, n. [láten] Laton. Tansong dilaw. Latter, adj. [láter] Posterior, último. Hulí. Lattice, n. [látis] Celosía. Silohiyá, silipán. Laud, v. [lod] Alabar. Pumuri. Laudable, adj. [lódabl] Laudable, digno de alabanza. Kapuripuri. Laugh, n. [laf] Risa, risada. Tawa. Laugh, v. [laf] Reir. Tumawa. Laughable, adj. [láfabl] Risible. Nakakatawa. Laughingly, adv. [láfingli] Alegremente, con risa. Katawatawa. Laughter, n. [láfter] Risa, risada. Halakhak, tawa. Launch, n. [lanch] Lancha. Lancha, muting bapor. Launch, v. [lanch] Botar ó echar al agua. Ilusong sa tubig, ilunsad. Laundress, n. [lóndres] Lavandera. Babaing manglalaba. Laundry, n. [lóndri] Lavandería. Pálabahan. Laureate, v. [lóriet] Laureado. Nagkaganting-palà. Laurel, n. [lórel] Laurel. Laurél. Lava, n. [láva] Lava. Ang ibinubugá ng bulkán. Lavatory, n. [lávotori] Lavatorio. Nauukol sa paghuhugas. Lavish, adj. [lávish] Pródigo. Alibughâ. Lavish, v. [lávish] Malgastar. Magbulastog sa pamumuhay. Law, n. [lo] Ley. Kautusan. Lawful, adj. [lóful] Legal, legítimo, lícito. Matwid, ayos sa kautusan. Law-giver, n. [lóguíver] Legislador. Tagapaglagdâ ng kautusan. Lawless, adj. [lóles] Ilegal. Laban sa kautusan. Lawmaker, n. [lómeker] Legislador. Tagapaglagdâ ng kautusan. Lawn, n. [lon] Prado. Bakood. Lawsuit, n. [lósiut] Pleito, proceso. Usap, usapín. Lawyer, n. [lóyer] Abogado. Abogado, tagapagsanggalang. Lax, adj. [lacs] Laxo, flojo. Mahinà. Laxity, n. [lácsiti] Laxitud, flojedad. Kahinaan. Lay, v. [lé] Poner; tender. Maglagay; humalimhim, mahigâ. Layer, n. [léyer] Lecho. Susón sa hígaan. Layman, n. [leíman] Lego, seglar. Lego. Laziness, n. [lézines] Pereza. Katamaran. Lazy, adj. [lézi] Perezoso. Tamad. Lea, n. [li] Prado, pradera. Bakood. Lead, n. [lid] Plomo. Tinggâ. Lead, v. [lid] Conducir, guiar. Pumatnugot, pumatnubay, umakay. Leaden, adj. [ledn] Hecho de plomo. Tininggâ. Leader, n. [líder] Guia, conducto. Tagapamatnugot, tagapamatnubay, tagaakay. Leaf, n. [lif] Hoja. Dahon. Leaflet, n. [líflet] Hojilla. Munting dahon. Leafy, adj. [lífi] Frondoso, hojudo. Madahon. League, n. [lig] Liga, alianza. Típanan, kásunduan, káyarian. Leak, n. [lik] Gotera; vía de agua. Tumutulò; landás ng tubig, tuluán. Leak, v. [lik] Gotear. Tumulò. Leakage, n. [líkedch] Merma, derrame. Tulò. Leaky, adj. [líki] Roto, agujereado. Butas. Lean, adj. [lin] Flaco. Payát. Lean, v. [lin] Apoyarse, reclinarse. Sumandig, humilig. Leanes, n. [línes] Flaqueza. Kapayatán. Leap, n. [lip] Salto. Luksó, lundag. Leap, v. [lip] Saltar, brincar. Lumukso, lumundag. Learn, v. [lern] Aprender, instruir. Matuto, mag-aral. Learned, adj. [lérnd] Sabio, inteligente. May pinag-aralan, marunong, matalinò. Learner, n. [lérner] Escolar, estudiante, aprendiz. Ang nag-aaral. Learning, n. [lérning] Estudio, conocimiento. Pagkatuto, kaalaman. Lease, n. [lis] Arriendo, escritura de arrendamiento. Pangungupahan, kasulatan tungkol sa pag upa ó pagbwis. Lease, v. [lis] Arrendar. Bumwís. Leash, n. [lish] Correa. Panalì. Leash, v. [lish] Atar con correa. Talian. Least, adj. [list] Mínimo. Káliitliitan. Leather, n. [lédzer] Cuero, pellejo. Katad, balat ng hayop. Leathern, adj. [lédzern] De cuero. Yaring katad. Leave, n. [liv] Licencia, permiso. Pahintulot. Leave, v. [liv] Dejar, abandonar. Iwan, pabayaan. Leaven, n. [lévn] Levadura, fermento. Lebadura, galapong. Leavings, n. [lívings] Sobras, residuo. Labis, tirá. Lection, n. [léccion] Leccion. Liksyon, pag-aaral. Lecture, n. [lécchur] Discurso. Panayam na binabasa. Lecture, v. [lécchur] Enseñar, instruir. Magturò. Lecturer, n. [lécchurer] Instructor. Tagapagturò. Ledge, n. [ledch] Borde. Gilid. Ledger, n. [lédcher] Libro mayor. Libro mayor. Lee, n. [li] Hez. Latak ng alak. Leech, n. [lich] Sanguijuela. Lintâ. Leer, n. [lir] Ojeada. Sulyap. Leer, v. [lir] Mirar de soslayo. Sumulyap. Lees, n. [liz] Heces. Latak. Leeward, adv. [líward] Sotavento. Sa gawî na may hangin. Left, n. [left] Izquierdo. Kaliwâ. Left-handed, adj. [left-jended] Zurdo. Kaliwete. Leg, n. [leg] Pierna; pie. Hità, paa. Legacy, n. [léguesi] Legado. Pamana. Legal, adj. [lígal] Legal, legítimo. Matwid, ayon sa kautusan. Legality, n. [ligáliti] Legalidad, legitimidad. Katwiran. Legalize, v. [lígalaiz] Legalizar, legitimar. Isang-ayon sa kautusan. Legate, n. [léguet] Legado, diputado. Kinatawan. Legatee, n. [legatí] Legatorio. Ang pinamanahan. Legation, n. [liguécion] Legacion, embajada. Sugong kinatawan. Legend, n. [lídchend] Leyenda. Kwento, kathang salaylay. Legendary, adj. [lídchenderi] Fabuloso. Kathâkathâ. Legerdemain, n. [ledcherdemén] Juego de manos. Salamangká. Legible, adj. [lédchibl] Legible. Nababasa. Legion, n. [lídchen] Legion. Pulutong. Legislate, v. [lédchislet] Legislar. Maglagdâ ng utos. Legislation, n. [ledchislécion] Legislacion. Paglalagdâ ng kautusan. Legislative, adj. [lédchisletiv] Legislativo. Nauukol sa paglalagdâ ng kautusan. Legislator, n. [lédchisletor] Legislador. Tagapaglagdâ ng kautusan. Legislature, n. [lédchislechur] Legislatura. Kapulungan ng mga tagapaglagdâ ng kautusan. Legitimacy, n. [lidchítimesi] Legitimidad. Katunayan. Legitimate, adj. [lidchítimet] Legítimo. Tunay. Leisure, n. [lésiur] Desocupacion, ocio. Pagpapagayongayon. Leisurely, adv. [lésiurli] Despacio, deliberadamente. Dahandahan. Lemon, n. [lémon] Limon. Limon, dayap. Lemonade, n. [lémoned] Limonada. Limonada. Lend, v. [lend] Prestar. Magpahiram, magpautang. Length, n. [lengz] Longitud, largura. Habà. Lengthen, v. [léngzen] Alargar, prolongar. Pahabain. Lengthy, adj. [léngzi] Largo; fastidioso. Mahabà, nakayayamot. Leniency, n. [líniensi] Benignidad. Kagandahang loob. Lenient, adj. [línient] Leniente; lenitivo. Nakapagpapahupâ; lunas. Lenitive, adj. [lénitiv] Lenitivo. Lunas. Lenity, n. [léniti] Lenidad, benignidad. Kaawaan, kagandahang loob. Lens, n. [lens] Lente, vidrio circular convexo. Lente. Lent, n. [lent] Cuaresma. Kurismá. Leonine, adj. [líonain] Leonino. Parang leon. Leopard, n. [lépard] Leopardo. Leopardo. Leper, n. [léper] Leproso. Kétongin, may pulá. Leprosy, n. [léprosi] Lepra. Ketong, pulá. Leprous, adj. [lépres] Leproso. Kétongin, may pulá. Less, adj. [les] Menos. Kulang. Lessen, v. [lesn] Minorar, disminuir. Pakaontiin, kulangan, awasán. Lesser, adj. [lésoer] Menor, mas pequeño. Lalong maliit, lalong muntî. Lesson, n. [léson] Leccion, instruccion. Líksion, turò, aral. Lessor, n. [lésor] Arrendador. Ang nagpapaupa ng bahay. Lest, conj. [lest] No sea que. Bakâ, maliban. Let, v. [let] Dejar, conceder. Bayaan, ipagkaloob. Lethargic, adj. [lizárdchic] Letárgico. Mahimbing. Lethargy, n. [lézardchi] Letargo. Himbíng. Letter, n. [létoer] Letra; carta. Titik; sulat, líhám. Lettuce, n. [létius] Lechuga. Lichugas. Levant, n. [lívant] Levante, oriente. Silanganan. Levee, n. [lévi] El tiempo de levantarse por la mañana; dique para detener el agua. Oras ng pagbangon; pangharang ng tubig. Level, adj. [lével] Llano, igual, nivelado. Pantay, patag. Level, n. [lével] Llano, llanura. Kapatagan. Level, v. [lével] Igualar, aplanar. Pantayin, patagin. Lever, n. [lívoer] Palanca. Panghikwat. Levity, n. [léviti] Levedad, ligereza. Gaan, kagaanan. Levy, n. [lévi] Impuesto; leva de tropas. Bwis, pagbabangon ng hukbó. Lewd, adj. [liúd] Lujurioso, lascivo. Malibog, mahalay. Lewdness, n. [liúdnes] Lascivia. Libog, kahalayan. Liability, n. [laiabíliti] Responsabilidad. Pananagot, ságutin. Liable, adj. [láiabl] Responsable. Pananagot. Liar, n. [láioer] Embustero. Sinungaling, bulaan, hambog. Libel, n. [láibl] Libelo. Paninirang puri. Liberal, adj. [líboeral] Liberal, generoso. Magandang loob, mabuting asal. Liberality, n. [liboeráliti] Liberalidad. Kagandahang loob, kabutihang asal. Liberate, v. [liboeret] Libertar, librar. Magpalayà, magligtas. Liberation, n. [liboerécioen] El acto de libertar. Pagpapalayà, pagliligtas. Liberty, n. [líboerti] Libertad. Layà, kalayaan. Lice, n. [láis] Piojos. Mga kuto. Licence, n. [láisens] Licencia. Lisensia, pahintulot. Licence, v. [láisens] Licenciar, autorizar. Magpahintulot. Lick, v. [lik] Lamer. Humimod, dumilà. Lid, n. [lid] Párpado. Tálukap-matá. Lie, n. [lai] Mentira. Kasinungalingan, kabulaanan. Lie, v. [lai] Mentir. Magsinungalíng, magbulaan. Lief, adv. [lif] De buena gana. Nápaibig. Liege, n. [lidch] Feudatario; vasallo, súbdito. May-arì ng lupang bwisan; kampon. Lien, n. [líen] Derecho de retencion. Piansa, lagak na ipinanánagót. Lieu, n. [liu] Lugar. Dako, lugar. Lieutenancy, n. [liuténansi] Tenencia, lugar tenencia. Pagkatenyente. Lieutenant, n. [liuténant] Teniente. Tenyete, tininté. Life, n. [laif] Vida. Búhay, kabuhayan. Lifeless, adj. [láifles] Muerto, inanimado. Patay, walang diwà. Lifelike, adj. [láiflaik] Que parece estar vivo. Parang buháy. Lifetime, n. [láiftaim] Duración de la vida. Tagál ng búhay. Lift, n. [lift] El esfuerzo que se hace para levantar alguna cosa pesada. Pagtataas, pagbuhat. Lift, v. [lift] Alzar, elevar. Itaas, buhatin. Ligament, n. [lígament] Ligamento, ligazon. Pang-ugnay. Ligature, n. [lígachiur] Ligadura. Pamigkis. Light, adj. [láit] Lijero, llevadero. Magaan. Light, n. [lait] Luz; claridad, resplandor. Ilaw; liwanag, linaw. Light, v. [lait] Encender; alumbrar, iluminar. Magtitis, magsindí; magpaningas, magpalyab. Lighten, v. [láitn] Relampaguear; iluminar, alumbrar; alijerar. Kumislap; liwanagan, tanlawan; pagaanin. Lightning, n. [láitning] Relámpago. Kidlát, lintik. Lightness, n. [láitnes] Levedad, lijereza, velocidad. Gaan; tulin. Lights, n. [láits] Pulmones. Bagà. Ligneous, adj. [lígnies] Leñoso. Yaring kahoy. Like, adj. [láik] Semejante, parecido. Kawangis, kawangkí. Like, adv. [láik] Como. Gaya, para, paris. Like, v. [láik] Querer, amar, gustar. Umibig, suminta, gumiliw. Likely, adj. [láikli] Bien parecido. Kahawig, kawangkî. Likely, adv. [láikli] Probablemente. Marahil. Liken, v. [láikn] Asemejar, comparar. Itulad, iparis, iwangkí, igaya. Likeness, n. [láicnes] Semejanza, igualdad. Wangis, wangkî. Likewise, adv. [láicwaiz] Tambien, igualmente. Rin, naman, gayon din. Lilac, n. [láilac] Lila. Lila. Limb, n. [limb] Miembro. Sangkap. Limber, adj. [límber] Manejable, flexible. Malambót, sunudsunuran. Limbo, n. [límbo] Limbo. Limbó. Lime, n. [láim] Cal. Apog. Lime, n. [láim] Lima (especie de limon). Isang urì ng limón. Limekiln, n. [láimkiln] Calera. Apugán, gawaan ng apog. Limestone, n. [láimston] Piedra de cal. Batong apog. Limit, n. [límit] Límite, término. Hangganan, wakas. Limit, v. [límit] Limitar, restringir. Bigyan ng hanggá, hangganán. Limitation, n. [limitécioen] Limitacion, restriccion. Hanggá. Limitless, adj. [límitles] Ilimitado. Walang hanggá. Limp, n. [limp] Cojera. Pílay, hingkod. Limp, v. [limp] Cojear. Mápilay, humingkod. Limpid, adj. [límpid] Limpio, claro, trasparente. Malinis, malinaw. Limpidness, n. [límpidnes] Claridad, limpieza. Linaw, linis. Linch-pin, n. [línch-pin] Pezonera. Tarugo, susì. Line, n. [lain] Linea, raya. Guhit, hanay. Lineage, n. [líniedch] Linaje, decendencia de una familia. Angkán, lahì, lipì, kamaganakan. Lineal, adj. [líniel] Lineal. Nauukol sa guhit. Lineament, n. [líniement] Lineamentos. Pagkaguhit. Linear, adj. [líniar] Lineal. Nauukol sa guhit. Linen, n. [línen] Lienzo, lino. Linzó, lino. Linger, v. [línguoer] Consumirse, prolongar, dilatar. Maubos; magtagal; tumagal. Lingering, adj. [Línguoering] Lento, pesado, tardo. Mabagal, makupad, malwat. Lingering, n. [Línguoering] Tardanza, prolongacion. Tagal, láon, lwat. Linguist, n. [língüist] Lingüista. Marunong ng iba't ibang wikà. Liniment, n. [líniment] Linimento. Gamot na pamahid. Lining, n. [láining] Forro, aforro. Aporo. Link, n. [link] Anillo de cadena, enlace. Singsing ng tanikalâ, kawíng. Link, v. [link] Enlazar. Ikawíng, iugpong. Lion, n. [láioen] Leon. Leyón. Lioness, n. [láioenes] Leona. Leyong babae. Lip, n. [lip] Labio. Labì ngusò. Lipothymy, n. [lipózimi] Lipotimia, desmayo. Himatay, pagkawalang malay ng pagkatao. Liquation, n. [laicuócioen] Licuacion. Pagtunaw. Liquefy, v. [lícuifai] Licuar, derritir. Tumunaw. Liquid, adj. [lícuid] Líquido. Malagnaw. Liquidate, v. [lícuidet] Liquidar, ajustar las cuentas. Tuusín, magbayarán. Liquidation, n. [licuidécioen] Liquidacion. Pagtutuus. Liquor, n. [líkoer] Licor. Alak. Lisp, n. [lisp] Tartamudo. Pagkautal, pagkagaril, pagkagago. Lisp, v. [lisp] Tartamudear. Umutal, magaríl, magago. List, n. [list] Lista. Talâ, tálaan. List, v. [list] Registrar, alistar. Italâ, magtalâ. Listen, v. [lisn] Escuchar, atender. Duminig, makinig. Listener, n. [lísnoer] Escuchante. Ang nakikinig. Listless, adj. [lístles] Indiferente, descuidado. Pabayâ, walang bahalà. Listlessness, n. [lístlesnes] Descuido. Pagpapabayâ, pagwawalang bahalà. Litany, n. [lítani] Letanía. Litanyá, dasal. Literal, a. [lítoeral] Literal. Ayon sa salitâ. Literary, adj. [lítoereri] Literario. Nauukol sa panunulat ó pag-aakdâ. Literature, n. [líterechur] Literatura. Panunulat. Lithe, adj. [laiz] Flexible, blando. Malambot, sunudsunuran. Lithography, n. [lizógrafi] Litografía. Litograpya, paglalarawan sa pamamagitan ng bató. Litigant, n. [lítigant] Litigante. Nakikipag-usapín. Litigate, v. [lítiguet] Litigar. Makipag-usapín. Litigation, n. [litiguécioen] Litigio. Usapín, usap. Litter, n. [lítoer] Litera, cama portatil. Arag-arag, kalandas. Litter, v. [lítoer] Parir los animales; desordenar. Manganak ang hayop; gumuló. Little, adj. [lítl] Poco, pequeño. Kaonti, muntî. Liturgy, n. [lítardchi] Liturgia. Ayos ng pagdiriwan ng simbahan. Live, adj. [láiv] Vivo. Buháy. Live, v. [liv] Vivir, morar, habitar. Mátira, manahán tumirá, tumahan mamuhay. Livelihood, n. [láivlijud] Vida, subsistencia. Pamumuhay. Liveliness, n. [láivlines] Vida, prontitud, agilidad, actividad. Sigla, sikap, liksí, dalî. Lively, adj. [láivli] Vivo, vigoroso. Buháy ang loob, masayá. Liver, n. [lívoer] Hígado. Atay. Livery, n. [lívoeri] Librea. Librea ó kasuutang pinagkakakilanlan. Livid, adj. [lívid] Lívido, cárdeno. Kulay talóng. Living, n. [líving] Modo de vivir ó de ganar la vida. Pamumuhay, kabuhayan. Lizard, n. [lízard] Lagarto. Bubulí, tukô. Load, n. [lod] Carga; peso. Lulan; bigat. Load, v. [lod] Cargar. Maglulan; ipasan. Loadstone, n. [lódston] Imán. Bató balanì. Loaf, n. [lof] Pan. Tinapay na malakí. Loafer, n. [lófoer] Holgazan, gandul, tunante, bribon. Palaboy, hampas-lupà, tamad. Loam, n. [lom] Marga, especie de tierra gredosa. Lupang itím. Loan, n. [lon] Préstamo, empréstito. Pahirám, pautang. Loath, adj. [loz] Repugnante, disgustado. Yamot, iníp. Loathe, v. [loz] Aborrecer, detestar. Yumamot, magtakwil. Loathing, n. [lózing] Disgusto, repugnancia. Suyà, yamot. Loath-some, adj. [lózsam] Aborrecible, fastidioso, asqueroso. Nakayayamot, nakasusuklam, karimarimarim, nakapangdidiri. Lobby, n. [lóbi] Antecámara, vestíbulo. Silíd. Lobster, n. [lóbstoer] Langosta; una especie de camaron marino. Balang; isang urì ng hipong dagat. Local, adj. [lócal] Local. Nauukol sa dako ó pook. Locality, n. [locáliti] Localidad. Dako, pook. Locate, v. [lóket] Poner, colocar. Maglagay, maglapag. Location, n. [lokécioen] Colocacion, situacion. Lagáy. Lock, n. [loc] Cerradura. Seradura, pangtrangká. Lock, v. [loc] Cerrar. Isara, isusì, itrangka. Locker, n. [lókoer] Armario. Aparador, baul, kaban. Locket, n. [lóket] Broche, corchete. Kayrel. Locksmith, n. [lócsmiz] Cerrajero. Panday-kaban. Locomotion, n. [locomócioen] Locomocion. Kilos, galaw. Locomotive, adj. [locomótiv] Locomotora. Mákina ng tren. Locust, n. [lókast] Langosta. Balang. Locution, n. [lokiúcioen] Locucion. Salitâ, pangungusap. Lodge, n. [lodch] Casa de guarda en el bosque ó monte; casita; logia, la reunion de francmasones. Bahay-bantayan sa gubat ó bundok; dampâ; bahay pulungán ng mga masón. Lodge, v. [lodch] Alojarse ú hospedarse. Manuluyan, manirahan. Lodger, n [lódcher] Huesped; inquilino. Mánunuluyan, naninirahan. Lodging, n. [lódching] Posada, alojamiento. Pánuluyan. Lodging-house, n. [lódching-jaus] Posada. Bahay-pánuluyan. Lofty, adj. [lófti] Alto, elevado; altivo, orgulloso. Mataas, matayog; mapagmataas, palalò. Log, n. [log] Leño, trozo de arbol. Kahoy, punò (ng kahoy). Loggerhead, n. [lóguoerjed] Zote, cabeza redonda. Taong mapurol ang ulo. Logic, n. [lódchic] Lógica. Katagáng pagmamatwid. Logical, adj. [lódchical] Lógico. Nauukol sa katagang pagmamatwid. Logician, n. [lodchícioen] Lógico. Marunong ng matapat na pagmamatwid. Logwood, n. [lógwud] Palo de campeche. Kahoy na mapulá. Loin, n. [lóin] Lomo. Balakáng. Loiter, v. [lóitoer] Haraganear. Magpagayon-gayon. Loiterer, n. [lóitoeroer] Haragan, holgazan. Pagayon-gayon. Loll, v. [lol] Tender; apoyarse, acostarse. Humilatà, humandusay. Lone, adj. [lon] Solitario, solo. Bugtong, nag-iisa. Loneliness, n. [lónlines] Soledad. Pag-iisá, panglaw. Lonely, adj. [lónli] Solitario, abandonado. Nag-iisa. Lonesome, adj. [lonsam] Solitario, desierto. Ilang, lwal. Long, adj. [long] Largo. Mahabà. Long, v. [long] Anhelar, ansiar, desear con vehemencia. Manabik. Longevity, n. [lonjéviti] Longevidad. Habà ng buhay. Longing, n. [longing] Deseo, vehemente, anhelo, ansia. Pananabik. Longitude, n. [lóndchitiud] Longitud. Habà, kahabaan. Long-lived, adj. [lóng-laivd] Lo que tiene larga vida. Mahabà ang buhay. Longitudinal, adj. [londchiutúdinal] Longitudinal. Pahabâ, nauukol sa habà. Long-suffering, adj. & n. [lóng-sáfering] Paciencia en el sufrimiento de las injurias. Matíisin, mapagbatá. Long-tongued, adj. [lóng-tongd] Parlero, parlon. Masatsat. Look, n. [luk] Aspecto, semblante. Anyô, hichura. Look, v. [luk] Mirar. Tumingin. Looking-glass, n. [lúking-glas] Espejo. Salamín. Look-out, n. [luk-aut] Centinela; vigia. Bantay; tanod. Loom, n. [lum] Telar. Habihán. Loon, n. [lun] Pícaro, haragan. Switik. Loop, n. [lup] Ojal, presilla. Ohales, káwingan. Loophole, n. [lúpjol] Abertura. Butas. Loose, adj. [lus] Suelto, desatado; relajado. Kalág, kalás, malwag; talipandas, malubay. Loose, v. [lus] Desatar, desapretar, aflojar. Kumalag, kumalas, lumwag. Loosen, v. [lúsn] Desunirse, separarse; aflojar, desatar. Kumalag, kumalas, magpalwag. Looseness, n. [lúsnes] Aflojamento, soltura. Kalwagan, kakalasán. Loot, v. [lut] Saquear. Mangdambong, maniil. Lop, n. [lop] La rama podada. Sangang pinutol. Lop, v. [lop] Desmochar. Putlín. Lopeared, adj. [lopérd] Con las orejas caidas. May malaking tainga. Loquacious, adj. [locuécioes] Locuaz, hablador. Matabíl, masalitâ, masatsát. Loquaciousness, n. [locuéciesnes] Locuacidad, charla, parla. Tabíl, satsat. Loquacity = Loquaciousness. Lord, n. [lord] Señor, Dios. Panginoon, Dyos. Lord, v. [lord] Señorear, dominar. Magpakapanginoon. Lordliness, n. [lórdlines] Señorío; altivez, orgullo. Pagkapanginoon; kapalaluan. Lordly, adj. [lórdli] Señoríl; orgulloso. Parang panginoon; palalò. Lore, n. [lor] Leccion, doctrina, enseñanza. Aral, turò. Lose, v. [los] Perder, disipar, desperdiciar. Magwalâ, pumaram, pumawì, magbulaksak. Loss, n. [los] Pérdida, daño. Ang nawalâ, kalugihán, ang nasayang, ang natalo. Lost, adj. [lost] Perdido. Nawalâ, nasayang, nalugi, natalo, talunan. Lot, n. [lot] Suerte; lote. Kapalaran; kaukulang bahagi; lupà. Loth, adj. [loz] Repugnante, disgustado. Ayaw. Lotion, n. [lócion] Locion, ablucion. Punas at kuskós ng katawan sa may-sakít. Lottery, n. [lóteri] Lotería. Loterya, ropa. Loud, adj. [láud] Ruidoso, alto, clamoroso. Malakás na pananalitâ, maingay. Loudly, adv. [láudli] Ruidosamente. May kalakasan ng boses. Lough, n. [loc] Lago, laguna. Dagatdagatan, danaw. Lounge, v. [láundch] Haraganear, holgazanear. Magpagayon-gayon, magbatugan. Lounger, n. [láundcher] Haragan, ocioso. Pagayon-gayon, batugan. Louse, n. [láus] Piojo. Hanip, kuto. Lousy, adj. [láuzi] Piojoso. Mahanip, makuto. Lout, n. [láut] Patan, rústico. Taong hamak. Loutish, adj. [láutish] Rudo, rústico. Hamak. Lovable, adj. [lávabl] Amable. Magiliw; máiibigan. Love, n. [lav] Amor. Pag-ibig, pagsinta, pag-irog, pag-giliw. Love, v. [lav] Amar, querer, gustar. Umibig, mangibig suminta, umirog, gumiliw. Love-letter, n. [láv-letter] Carta amorosa. Sulat na palasintahan. Lovely, adj. [lávli] Amable, hermoso. Kaibig-ibig, kagiliw-giliw. Lovelorn, adj. [lávlorn] Abandonado ó desamparado de su amante. Tinalikdan ng kasintahan. Lover, n. [láver] Amante, galán. Nangingibig, mangliligaw. Low, adj. [lo] Bajo, pequeño. Mababà, pandak. Low, adv. [lo] Bajo, vilmente. Mura, hamak. Low, v. [lo] Mugir. Umungâ, (sigaw ng baka). Lower, adj. [lóer] Mas bajo. Lalong mababà. Lower, v. [lóer] Abajar, humillar; minorar, disminuir. Ibabâ, hamakin; paliitin, bawasan. Lowering, adj. [lóuering] Sombrío. Malamlam, kulimlim. Lowermost, adj. [lóermost] El mas bajo, ínfimo. Kábabababaan. Lowing, n. [lóing] Mugido. Ungal, angal. Lowland, n. [lóland] Tierra baja. Lupang mababà. Lowliness, n. [lólines] Bajeza, ruindad. Pangungugaling hamak. Lowly, adj. [lóli] Humilde, sumiso. Mapagpakumbabâ. Lowness, n. [lónes] Bajeza, pequeñez. Kababaan, kaliitan. Low-spirited, adj. [lo-spírited] Abatido, desanimado, acobardado. Mahinà ang loob, takót, dwag. Loyal, adj. [lóial] Leal, fiel. Tapat na loob, ayon sa katwiran. Loyally, adv. [lóiali] Lealmente. May pagtatapat. Loyalty, n. [lóialti] Lealtad. Pagtatapat. Lubber, n. [láber] Tomajon, haragan, un bobo. Bastos, ungas. Lubricate, v. [liúbriket] Untar con materias crasas. Pahiran ng langis ó mantikà. Lubricous, adj. [liúbrikæs] Lúbrico. Madulás. Lucent, adj. [liúsent] Luciente. Maningning, makislap, makintab. Lucid, adj. [liúsid] Luciente, diáfano, brillante. Maningning, makintab, makislap. Lucidity, n. [liusíditi] Esplendor, resplandor. Ningning, kintab. Luck, n. [lac] Acaso, fortuna. Pagkakataon, kapalaran. Luckless, adj. [lácles] Malaventurado, infeliz, desdichado. Masamang palad, sawing kapalaran. Lucky, adj. [láki] Afortunado, feliz, dichoso. Mapalad, mabuting kapalaran, ginagaling. Lucrative, adj. [liúcrativ] Lucrativo. Pinakikinabangan. Lucre, n. [liúker] Lucro, ganancia. Pakinabang, tubò. Ludicrous, adj. [liúdicres] Burlesco, jocoso, ridículo. Palabirô, palátawá, katawatawá. Lug, v. [lag] Tirar alguna cosa hácia sí. Humalták, bumatak, humila. Luggage, n. [láguedch] Bagage; equipaje. Daladalahan. Lugubrious, adj. [liuguiúbriæs] Lúgubre, meláncolico. Mapanglaw, malamlam, malungkot. Lukewarm, adj. [liúcworm] Tibio, templado. Malahininga, patay na tubig. Lull, v. [lal] Arrullar; adormecer, sosegar, calmar. Maghele, magpatulog, magpatahimik. Lullaby, n. [lálabai] Arrullo. Paghehele. Lumbago, n. [lambégo] Lumbago. Isang sakít ng gulugod at balakang. Lumbar, adj. [lámbar] Lumbar. Nauukol sa balakang. Lumber, n. [lámber] Maderaje, madera. Mga tablá, kahoy. Luminary, n. [liúmineri] Luminar, lumbrera. Ilaw, tanglaw. Luminous, adj. [liúminæs] Luminoso, resplandeciente. Maliwanag, maningning. Lump, n. [lamp] Masa informe. Bantal, bukol, umbok. Lump, v. [lamp] Tomar alguna cosa por junto. Magtumpok. Lumpy, adj. [lámpi] Lleno de terrones ó de masas endurecidas. Mabukol, bantalbantal. Lunacy, n. [liúnesi] Locura, frenesí. Kaululán, kahibangán. Lunar, adj. [liúnar] Lunar. Nauukol sa bwan. Lunatic, adj. & n. [liúnatic] Lunatico, frenético. Bubwanin, sumpúngin. Lunch, n. [lanch] Merienda. Minindal. Luncheon, n. [lánchion] Merienda. Minindal. Lung, n. [lang] Pulmon. Bagà. Lunt, n. [lant] Mecha de cañon. Titisán ng kanyon. Lurch, n. [larch] Abandono. Kapabayaan. Lurch, v. [larch] Devorar, engullir; dar chasco; engañar. Sumakmal; humiyâ; mangdayà. Lure, n. [liur] Señuelo, añagaza. Pain, dayà. Lure, v. [liur] Atraer, inducir con señuelo. Katiin, painan. Lurid, adj. [liúrid] Pálido; lóbrego, triste. Maputlâ; malamlam, mapanglaw. Lurk, v. [larc] Espiar, acechar. Umabat, mang-abang. Luscious, adj. [láscies] Empalagoso. Nakasusuyà. Lusk, adj. [lask] Ocioso, indolente. Tangá, pabayâ, tamad. Lust, n. [last] Lujuria, sensualidad. Libog, mahalay na pita. Lust, v. [last] Lujuriar. Magpita ng mahalay, magpakalibog. Lustful, adj. [lástful] Lujurioso, voluptuoso. Malibog, mahalay. Lustiness, n. [lástines] Vigor, robustez. Sigla, lakás. Lustrate, v. [lástret] Lustrar, purificar. Pakinangín, padilagin. Lustre, n. [láster] Lustre, brillantez. Kináng, dilág. Lusty, adj. [lásti] Lozano, fornido, vigoroso. Malakás, masigla. Luxuriance, n. [lucsiúrians] Exuberancia, lozania, superabundancia. Kayabungan, kalaguan, kasaganaan. Luxuriant, adj. [lucsiúriant] Exuberante, lozano, superabundante. Mayabong, malagô, saganà. Luxuriate, v. [lucsiúriet] Crecer con exuberancia. Yumabong, lumagô. Luxurious, adj. [lucsiúries] Lujurioso, exuberante. Malibog, malabis. Luxury, n. [lúcsiuri] Lujuria, voluptuosidad; exuberancia. Libog, kahalayan; kalabisan. Lye, n. [lái] Lejía. Lihía. Lymph, n. [limf] Linfa. Tubig (na nanganganinag). Lynch, v. [linch] Ajusticiar al reo en el acto el populacho. Patayín karakaraka ng mga tao ang may sala. Lynx-eyed, adj. [lincs-áid] Vista de lince. Matalas ang matá. Lyre, n. [láir] Lira. Lira. Lyrest, n. [láirist] Lirista. Ang marunong tumugtog ng lira. M M, [em] M (eme). M [ma]. Ma, [ma] Mamá. Ináy, nanay. Mab, v. [mab] Vestirse desaliñadamente. Magbihis ng kahit paano. Macaroni, n. [macaróni] Macarrones. Isang lulutúin na parang pideus na malalakí. Machine, n. [machín] Máquina. Mákina. Machinery, n. [machíneri] Maquinaria, mecánica. Nauukol sa mákina. Machinist, n. [machínist] Maquinista. Makinista. Mackintosh, n. [makíntosh] Sobretodo. Kapote. Mad, adj. [mad] Loco, furioso, rabioso. Ulol, halíng, baliw; galít. Mad, v. [mad] Enloquecerse, enfurecerse. Maulól, mahalíng, mabaliw; magalit. Madam, n. [madám] Madama, señora. Ginang, ale. Madcap, adj. [mádcap] Locarías. Makarót. Madden, v. [madn] Enloquecerse. Maulol, magalit. Madheaded, adj. [mádjeded] Fogoso, antojadizo. Mainit ang ulo. Madhouse, n. [mádjaus] Casa de locos. Kulungán sa nangasisirà ang ulo. Madly, adv. [mádli] Furiosamente, como un loco. Mapusok, parang ulol. Madman, n. [mádman] Un loco, un maniatico. Taong ulol, baliw, loko, sirâ ang ulo. Madness, n. [mádnes] Locura, demencia. Kaululan, pagkasirà ng ulo; pagkasirà ng bait. Madonna, n. [madóna] La imagen de la virgen. Larawan ng Mahal na Birhen. Magazine, n. [magazín] Pañol de pólvora ó santabárbara, nombre dado á algunos periódicos. Tinggalan ng mga punlô at pulburá; tawag sa ibang páhayagan. Maggot, n. [mágot] Gusano; capricho. Uod; kathâ. Magic, adj. [mádchic] Mágico. Nauukol sa mahia. Magic, n. [mádchic] Magia. Mahia. Magician, n. [medchícian] Mago, mágico. Mago, máhiko. Magisterial, adj. [madchistírial] Magistral, imperioso, arrogante. Kilos makapangyarihan; magarà, magilas. Magistracy, n. [mádchistresi] Magistratura. Pagkamahistrado ó mataas na hukóm. Magistrate, n. [mádchistret] Magistrado. Mahistrado ó mataas na hukom. Magnanimity, n. [magnanímiti] Magnanimidad. Kagandahang loob. Magnanimous, adj. [magnánimæs] Magnánimo. Magandang kalooban, mahabagin, maawain. Magnesia, n. [magnisya] Magnesia. Magnesya. Magnet, n. [mágnet] Iman. Bato balanì. Magnetic, adj. [magnétic] Magnético. Nauukol sa batobalanì; may panghalina. Magnetical = magnetic. Magnetism, n. [mágnetism] Magnetismo. Bisà ng batobalanì, panghalina, pang-ganyak. Magnificence, n. [magnífisens] Magnificencia, grandeza. Kadakilaan, kasakdalan, kalakhan. Magnificent, adj. [magníficent] Magnífico, espléndido. Dakilà, sakdal, mainam. Magnify, v. [mágnifai] Magnificar, exaltar, exagerar. Dakilain, ibunyî, purihin, itanyag. Magnitude, n. [mágnitiud] Magnitud, tamaño, grandor. Lakí, kalakihán. Magpie, n. [mágpai] Urraca, picaza. Ibong martines. Mahogany, n. [mejógani] Caoba. Tila narra. Mahometan, n. [majómitan] Mahometano. Moro. Maid, n. [meíd] Doncella, criada. Batang babae; dalagang matandâ. Maiden, n. [médn] Doncella. Dalaga, binibini. Maidenly, adj. [médnli] Virginal. Parang dalaga, parang binibini. Maidenhood, n. [médnjud] Doncellez, virginidad. Pagkadalaga, pagkabinibini. Maid-servant, n. [meíd-sérvant] Criada. Alilang babae. Mail, n. [meíl] Mala, correo; cota de malla. Korreo; balutì. Mail, v. [meíl] Poner en el correo; armar con cola de malla. Ihulog sa korreo; magbalutì. Maim, v. [meím] Mutilar, estropear. Putlin ang anomang sangkap ng katawan; bugbugin, lumpuhín. Main, adj. [meín] Principal; violento, fuerte. Panguna; marahas, malakas. Main, n. [meín] Grueso, la mayor parte ó la mas principal y fuerte de alguna cosa. Kakapalan; lakás. Mainland, n. [meínland] Continente. Lupang malawak. Mainly, adv. [meínli] Principalmente, primeramente. Kaunaunahan. Maintain, v. [mentén] Mantener, sostener. Umalalay, sumapol. Maintenance, n. [méntenans] Mantenimiento, apoyo, proteccion. Alalay, pagkupkop, lingap. Maize, n. [meíz] Maíz. Mais. Majestic, adj. [madchéstic] Majestuoso, augusto; grande. Dakilà, sakdal, malakí. Majesty, n. [mádchesti] Majestad, soberanía. Kadakilaan, kasakdalan, karangalan, kalakhan. Major, adj. [médchor] Mayor. Lalong malakí. Major, n. [médchor] Comandante. Komandante. Majority, n. [medchóriti] Mayoría, pluralidad. Karamihan, kalakhang bahagi. Make, n. [meík] Hechura, forma, figura. Anyô, banhay, yarì, pagkágawâ, hichura. Make, v. [meík] Hacer, crear, producir, formar, fabricar. Gumawâ, yumarì, lumikhâ, lumaláng, mag-anyô. Maker, n. [méker] Hacedor, artífice, fabricante, criador. Tagagawâ, manggagawà, may-gawâ. Make-believe, n. [meík-bilív] Disimulo, pretexto. Pagkukunwâ, dahilán. Makeweight, n. [mécwet] Complemento de peso. Pamunô sa timbang. Malady, n. [máladi] Mal, enfermedad. Sakít. Malapert, adj. [málapart] Desvergonzado, descarado. Walang hiyâ, pangahas. Malaria, n. [malária] Malaria. Lagnat na may ngiki. Malcontent, adj. & n. [málcontent] Malcontento. Masamâ ang loob, galít. Male, adj. [meíl] Masculino. Nauukol sa lalake. Male, n. [meíl] Macho. Lalake. Malediction, n. [maledíccion] Maldicion. Sumpâ, lait, tungayaw, alipustâ. Malefactor, n. [malifáctor] Malhechor. Tampalasan, manggagawa ng masamâ. Maleficent, adj. [maléficent] Maléfico, maligno. Masamâ. Malevolence, n. [malévolens] Malevolencia. Gawáng masamâ. Malevolent, adj. [malévolent] Malévolo. May masamang adhikâ. Malice, n. [mális] Malicia, malignidad. Masamang kalooban, mahalay na damdamin. Malicious, adj. [malícioes] Malicioso. May mahalay na damdamin. Maliciousness, n. [malíciausnes] Mala intencion, malicia. Damdaming kahalayhalay. Malign, adj. [maláin] Maligno. Masamâ. Malign, v. [maláin] Envidiar, tener malicia. Managhilì; mag-imbot ng masamâ. Malignant, adj. & n. [malígnant] Maligno. Masamâ. Malignity, n. [malígniti] Malignidad, perversidad. Samâ, kasamaan. Mall, n. [mol] Mazo. Pangbayo, pangdikdik. Mall, v. [mol] Golpear con mazo. Magbayó, dumikdik. Mallard, n. [málard] Lavanco. Patong malakí. Malleable, adj. [máliabl] Maleable. Makunat. Mallet, n. [málet] Mallete. Palakol na kahoy. Mallows, n. [málos] Malva. Malbas, kulotkulutan. Malmsey, n. [mámzi] Malvasía. Isang urì ng ubas. Mal-practice, n. [mal-práctis] Maltrato; malversacion. Paggawâ ng masamâ; pag-aalibughâ. Malt, n. [molt] Cebada preparada para hacer la cerveza. Sebadang laan sa paggawâ ng serbesa. Maltreat, v. [maltrít] Maltratar. Umalipustâ, tumampalasan. Maltster, n. [máltster] Obrero que prepara la cebada para hacer cerveza. Tagapaghandâ ng sebada paggawâ ng serbesa. Mamma, n. [mamá] Mama. Nanay, inay, inang. Man, n. [man] Hombre; varon. Tao; lalake. Man, v. [man] Tripular, armar. Maglagay ng mga taong kailangan sa sasakyan sa tubig. Manacle, n. [mánacl] Esposas. Damal sa kamáy. Manacle, v. [mánacl] Maniatar. Damalán ang mga kamáy. Manage, v. [mánedch] Manejar, conducir, gobernar, dirigir. Mamahalà, mamatnugot, pumaraan. Manageable, adj. [manédchabl] Manejable; tratable. Napamamahalaan, mabuting kausapin, sunodsunuran. Management, n. [mánedchment] Manejo, administracion. Pamamahalà, pangangasiwà. Manager, n. [mánedcher] Administrador; director. Tagapangasiwà; tagapamahalà. Mandate, n. [mándet] Mandato; orden. Utos. Mandatory, adj. [mándetori] Preceptivo. Nauukol sa utos. Mandatory, n. [mándetori] Mandatario. Utusán. Mandible, n. [mándibl] Mandíbula, quijada. Sihang, pangá. Mane, n. [meín] Crio ó clin de caballo. Kiling, buhok sa leeg ng kabayo. Mannequin, n. [mánekin] Maniquí. Manikí; larawang kahoy na sukatán ng damít. Manful, adj. [mánful] Bravo, valiente. Malakás ang loob, matapang. Mange, n. [mendch] Sarna. Galís. Manger, n. [méndcher] Pesebre. Kakanán ng kabayo. Mangle, v. [mangl] Mutilar, estropear. Bugbugin, lamugin. Mangy, adj. [méndchi] Sarnoso. Gálisin, magalis. Manhood, n. [mánjud] Edad viril. Pagkalalaki. Mania, n. [ménia] Manía. Kaululan, sumpong. Maniac, adj. & n. [méniac] Maniático, loco. Ulol, baliw, halíng. Manifest, adj. [mánifest] Manifiesto, patente. Hayag, tanyag, litaw; totoo, tunay. Manifest, v. [mánifest] Manifestar, hacer ver, declarar. Magpahayag, magpatalastas, magpakilala. Manifestation, n. [manifestécion] Manifestacion, declaracion. Pahayag, patalastas, pagtatanyag. Manifold, adj. [mánifold] Muchos, varios. Marami. Manakin, n. [mánikin] Hombrecillo. Pandak. Manipulate, v. [manípiulet] Manejar. Mamahalà. Manipulation, n. [manipiulécion] Manipulacion. Pamamahalà. Mankind, n. [mancáind] El genero humano, la especie humana. Sangkatauhan, sangkinapal. Manlike, adj. [mánlaik] Varonil. Parang lalake. Manner, n. [máner] Manera, modo, forma, método, hábito, costumbre. Paraan, anyô, tayô, kilos, asal, ugalì. Mannerly, adj. [mánerli] Cortés, urbano. Magalang, mapitagan, mabait. Mannish, adj. [mánish] Varonil. Parang lalake. Manoeuvre, n. [manúver] Maniobra. Gawâ. Manoeuvre, v. [manúver] Maniobrar. Gumawâ. Manse, n. [mans] Granja, quinta; casa rectoral, la morada del párroco. Bahay, táhanan; bahay-parì. Mansion, n. [máncion] Mansion, morada. Bahay, táhanan. Manslaughter, n. [mánslafter] Homicidio sin premeditacion. Pagpatay ng tao na dî binantâ. Mantel, n. [mantl] Campana de chimenea. Takíp ng chimenea. Mantle, n. [mantl] Mantel. Takíp sa dulang. Manual, adj. [mániual] Manual. Gawâ ng kamáy, yarì sa kamay. Manual, n. [mániual] Manual. Munting aklat na kinalalamnan ng tigkakaontî ng mga karunungan. Manufacture, n. [maniufácchur] Manufactura, fábrica, artefacto. Gawâ, paggawâ. Manufacture, v. [maniufácchur] Fabricar, manufacturar. Gumawâ. Manufactory, n. [maniufáctori] Fábrica, manufactura. Págawaan, gáwaan. Manufacturer, n. [maniufácchurer] Fabricante. Ang may pábrika ó págawaan. Manumission, n. [maniumícion] Manumision. Pagpapalayà sa alipin. Manumit, v. [maniúmit] Manumitir. Magpalayà ng alipin. Manure, n. [maniúr] Abono, estiercol. Patabâ sa lupà, dumí. Manure, v. [maniúr] Abonar, estercolar. Magpatabâ ng lupà; patabain ang lupà. Manuscript, n. [mániuscript] Manuscrito. Sulat-kamay. Many, adj. [méni] Muchos, as. Marami. Many, n. [méni] Muchedumbre, multitud. Karamihan. Map, n. [map] Mapa. Mapa. Map, v. [map] Delinear mapas. Gumawâ ng mapa. Mar, n. [mar] Mancha, borron. Dungis, manchá, bakat. Mar, v. [mar] Echar á perder alguna cosa, dañar, corromper. Makasirà, makapagpahamak. Marasmus, n. [marázmas] Marasmo. Tisis. Marauder, n. [maróder] Merodeador, pillador. Magnanakaw, mandudwit. Marble, n. [márbl] Marmol. Marmól. March, n. [march] Marzo. Marso. March, n. [march] Marcha. Lakad. March, v. [march] Marchar, caminar. Lumakad. Marchioness, n. [márchenes] Marquesa. Markesa. Mare, n. [meír] Yegua. Kabayong babae. Margin, n. [márdchin] Margen, borde, orilla. Gilid, tabí, bingit. Marginal, adj. [márdchinal] Marginal. Nauukol sa gilid. Marine, adj. [marín] Marino. Nauukol sa dagat. Marine, n. [marín] Soldado de marina. Kawal sa dagat. Mariner, n. [máriner] Marinero. Taong-dagat. Marital, adj. [márital] Marital. Nauukol sa asawa. Maritime, n. [máritim] Maritimo, naval. Nauukol sa dagat. Mark, n. [mark] Marca, señal, nota, huella. Tandâ, bakat, guhit, talâ, bakás. Mark, v. [mark] Marcar, señalar. Tandaan, bakatan, guhitan. Market, n. [márket] Mercado. Pámilihan. Market, v. [márket] Mercar, comprar. Mamilí. Marketable, adj. [márketabl] Vendible, corriente. Mabilí, karaniwan. Marline, n. [márlin] Merlín. Munting lubid. Maroon, n. [marún] Castaña. Kastanyas. Marquis, n. [márcuis] Marques. Markés. Marriage, n. [márridch] Maridaje, matrimonio. Kasal, pag aasawa. Marriageable, adj. [márridchabl] Casadero. Na sa gulang na pag-aasawa. Married, adj. [mérid] Casado. May asawa. Marrow, n. [márro] Tuétano, meollo. Utak ng buto. Marry, v. [méri] Casar ó casarse. Magkasal; mag-asawa. Marsh, n. [marsh] Pantano, ciénega. Latì, labón, kuminoy. Marshal, n. [mársial] Mariscal. Punò, mariskal. Marshal, v. [mársial] Ordenar, guiar. Mag-utos, mangulo sa isang lakaran. Marshy, adj. [márshi] Pantanoso, cenagoso. Latían, malabon. Mart, n. [mart] Emporio, comercio. Pángalakalan. Marten, n. [márten] Avion, especie de golondrina. Ibong martines. Martial, adj. [márcial] Marcial, militar. Nauukol sa kawal ó hukbó. Martyr, n. [mártir] Martir. Martir. Martyrdom, n. [mártirdom] Martirio. Pagkamartir. Marvel, n. [márvel] Maravilla, prodigio. Kababalaghan, hiwagà, pagtataka, panggigilalás, pagkamanghâ. Marvel, v. [márvel] Maravillar, admirar, pasmarse de alguna cosa. Magtaká, manggilalás, mámanghâ. Marvelous, adj. [márvelaus] Maravilloso, pasmoso, admirable, prodigioso. Katakataká, kamanghamanghâ, kagilagilalas. Masculine, adj. [máskiulin] Masculino, varonil. Nauukol sa lalake. Mash, n. [mash] Masa ó mezcla. Masa, halò, lahok. Mash, v. [mash] Amasar, hacer alguna mezcla. Magmasa, maghalò, maglahok. Mask, n. [mask] Máscara, disimulo, apariencia. Máskara, balat-kayô, paimbabaw. Mask, v. [mask] Enmascarar, disfrazar, encubrir, disimular. Magmáskara, magbalat-kayô; mag-paimbabaw. Mason, n. [mesn] Albañil. Kantero, mánanabas ng bató. Mason, n. [mesn] Francmason. Frankmason, masón. Masonic, adj. [mésonic] Masónico. Nauukol sa masón. Masonry, n. [mésonri] Albañilería; francmasonería. Pagkakantero, pananabas ng bató; masoneryá. Masquerade, n. [maskeréd] Mascarada. Pagmamaskara, pagbabalat-kayô. Masquerade, v. [maskeréd] Enmascararse, disfrazarse. Magmáskara, magbalat-kayô. Mass, n. [mas] Masa; misa; monton. Masa; misa; bunton, salansan. Mass, v. [mas] Celebrar ó decir misa. Magmisa. Massacre, n. [másaker] Carnicería, matanza; homicidio. Pagpapátayan, pátayan, pagpatay ng tao. Massacre, v. [másaker] Hacer una carnicería. Magpatayan. Massive, adj. [másiv] Macizo, sólido. Matigás, siksik, maigting, masinsin. Mast, n. [mast] Arbol ó palo de navío. Palo ng sasakyan. Master, n. [máster] Amo, dueño, señor. Panginoon, amo, apò. Master, v. [máster] Vencer, sujetar. Sumupil, dumaig. Master-hand, n. [máster-jend] Mano maestra. Gawang guró ó gawang mainam. Masterly, adj. & adv. [másterli] Magistral, con maestria. Mainam, ukol sa gawang guró. Masterpiece, n. [másterpiz] Obra ó pieza maestra, obra magistral. Gawang mainam. Mastery, n. [másteri] Superioridad, maestría. Kapangibabawán. Masticate, v. [mástiket] Mascar, masticar. Ngumuyâ, ngumatâ. Mastication, n. [mastikécion] Masticacion. Pagnguyâ, pagngatâ. Mat, n. [mat] Estera, petate. Baníg. Mat, v. [mat] Esterar. Gumawâ ng baníg. Match, n. [match] Fósforo; casamiento. Pósporo; pag-aasawa. Match, v. [match] Igualar, aparear; casar. Itulad, iparis; papag-asawahin. Matchless, adj. [mátchles] Incomparable, sin igual. Walang kagaya, walang kapara. Matchmaker, n. [matchméker] Casamentero. Búgaw. Mate, n. [meít] Consorte, compañero. Kalaguyò, kaututang dilà, kaulayaw, kasama. Mate, v. [meít] Casar, desposar; igualar. Papag-asawahin, ikasal; iparis. Material, adj. [matírial] Material, corpóreo. May katawan. Materials, n. [matírialz] Materiales. Mga kasangkapan. Maternal, adj. [matérnal] Maternal, materno. Nauukol sa iná. Maternity, n. [matérniti] Maternidad. Pagkaina. Mathematic, adj. [mazemátic] Matemático. Nauukol sa pagbilang ó pagtutuus. Mathematical = mathematic. Mathematician, n. [mazematícian] Matemático. Marunong tumuus sa pagbilang. Matin, adj. [mátin] Matutino. Nauukol sa umaga. Matricide, n. [mátrisaid] Matricidio; matricida. Pagpatay sa iná; ang pumatay ng iná. Matriculate, v. [matríkiulet] Matricular. Magmatrikula, pumasok na mag-aral sa páaralan. Matriculation, n. [matrikiulécion] Matriculacion. Pagmamatrikula, pagpasok sa páaralan. Matrimonal, adj. [matrimónial] Matrimonial, conyugal. Nauukol sa pag-aasawa. Matrimony, n. [matrímoni] Matrimonio, casamiento. Pag-aasawa. Matrix, n. [mátrics] Matriz. Bahay-batà. Matron, n. [mátron] Matrona, esposa; mujer casada. Hilot; babaing may asawa. Matronal, adj. [mátronal] Matronal. Nauukol sa hilot ó kaya'y sa babaing may asawa. Matronly, adj. [mátronli] Como matrona. Parang hilot ó parang babaing may asawa. Matter, n. [mátter] Materia; asunto, objeto. Bagay, kadahilanan. Matter, v. [mátter] Importar. Máukol. Mattings, n. [mátings] Esteras. Banig. Mattock, n. [mátok] Azadon de peto. Piko. Mattress, n. [mátress] Colchon. Hígaan, unan. Maturate, v. [mátiuret] Madurar; poner en sazon una cosa, ó un negocio. Pahinugin; pagbaitan ang anomang bagay ó pagkabuhay. Maturation, n. [matiurécion] Maduracion. Pagkahinog. Mature, adj. [matiúr] Maduro, sazonado. Hinóg, magulang. Mature, v. [matiúr] Madurarse. Mahinog, gumulang. Maturity, n. [matiúriti] Madurez. Kahinugan, gulang. Maudlin, adj. [módlin] Borracho, embriagado. Lasíng, langô. Maul, n. [mol] Mazo. Pangbayó. Maul, v. [mol] Golpear con un mazo. Bumayó, magbayó. Maundy-Thursday, n. [móndi-zarsde] Jueves Santo. Hwebes Santo. Mausoleum, n. [mosóliæm] Mausoleo. Líbingang maringal. Maw, n. [mo] Molleja de las aves. Balunbalunan ng ibon. Mawkish, adj. [mókish] Fastidioso; nauseabundo. Nakayayamot; nakakaalibadbad ng sikmurà. Maxilar, adj. [mácsilar] Maxilar. Nauukol sa sihang ó pangá. Maxim, n. [mácsim] Máxima, sentencia. Kawikaan, kasabihang may taglay na aral. Maximum, n. [mácsimum] Lo sumo, lo mas alto. Kátaastaasan. May, n. [meí] Mayo. Mayo. May, v. [meí] Poder. Maarì, mangyari. May, be adv. [méi bi] Puede ser, probable. Marahil, kaypalà. Mayor, n. [médchor] Corregidor. Tagapamahalà, punò. Mazard, n. [mázard] Quijada. Sihang. Maze, n. [meíz] Laberinto; perplejidad, confusion. Dakong salasalabat ang landas; kalinlangan, guló. Maze, v. [meíz] Descarriar, extraviar. Magligaw, maglisyâ. Me, pron. [mi] Me, á mí. Sa akin. Mead, n. [mid] Aguamiel. Tubig at pulot. Meadow, n. [médo] Pradera, prado. Parang. Meagre, adj. [míguer] Magro, flaco, descarnado. Payat, hilukâ, mahinà. Meal, n. [mil] Comida, harina. Pagkain, harina. Mean, adj. [min] Bajo, vil, ruin, indigno, abatido. Hamak, dukhâ, masamâ. Mean, n. [min] Medio, forma ó modo de hacer alguna cosa. Paraan. Mean, v. [min] Significar, intentar, pretender. Magkahulugan, akalain. Meander, n. [miánder] Laberinto, camino tortuoso. Daang pasikotsikot. Meaning, n. [míning] Significado, sentido, intencion, designio. Kahulugan, kapakanan; akalà, panukalà. Meantime, adv. [mintáim] Interín, mientras tanto. Samantalà, habang. Meanwhile, adv. [minjuáil] Mientras tanto, interín. Samantalà, habang. Measles, n. [mízles] Sarampion. Tigdas. Measly, adj. [mízli] Atacado del sarampion. Tinitigdas. Measurable, adj. [mésiurabl] Mensurable. Nasusukat, natatarok. Measure, n. [mésiur] Medida, compas, metro. Sukat, panukat. Measure, v. [mésiur] Medir. Sumukat. Measureless, adj. [mésiurles] Inmenso, inmensurable. Dî masukat, dî matarok. Measurement, n. [mésiurment] Medida. Sukat, kasukatán. Meat, n. [mit] Carne; vianda. Karné, lamang-kati; ulam. Mechanic, adj. [micánic] Mecánico. Nauukol sa mákina. Mechanical, adj. [micánical] Mecánico. Nauukol sa mákina. Mechanician, n. [mecanícian] Mecánico, maquinista. Makinista, nagpapakilos ng mákina. Mechanics, n. [micánics] Mecánica. Karunungan sa mákina. Mechanism, n. [mécanizm] Mecanismo. Pagkakaakma. Medal, n. [médal] Medalla. Medalya. Medallic, adj. [midálic] Numismático. Nauukol sa medalya. Medallion, n. [midálion] Medallon. Medalyang malakí. Meddle, v. [medl] Entremeterse. Makialam, manghimasok. Meddler, n. [médler] Entremetido, intrigante. Mapakialam, mapanghimasok. Meddlesome, n. [médlsam] Entremetido. Mapakialam, mapanghimasok. Mediate, v. [mídiet] Mediar. Mamagitnâ, mamagitan. Mediation, n. [midiécion] Mediacion, intercesion, intervencion. Pamamagitnâ, pamamagitan. Mediator, n. [mídietor] Mediador, intercesor. Tagapamagitnâ, tagapamagitan. Medical, adj. [médical] Médico. Nauukol sa gamót. Medicament, n. [médikament] Medicamento. Gamót. Medicate, v. [médiket] Hacer medicinal alguna cosa. Ariing gamot ang anoman. Medication, n. [medikécion] El acto de hacer alguna cosa medicinal. Pag-aring gamot sa anoman. Medicinal, adj. [medísinal] Medicinal. Nauukol sa gamot. Medicine, n. [médisin] Medicina, medicamento, remedio. Gamot, kagamutan. Mediocre, adj. [mídioker] Mediano, mediocre. Karaniwan, yano, katamtaman. Meditate, v. [méditet] Meditar, idear, tramar, pensar. Gumunitâ, mag-isip, magwarì, magbulay, magnilay. Meditation, n. [meditécion] Meditacion, reflexion. Gunità, pagwawarì, pagbubulay, pagninilay. Mediative, adj. [méditetiv] Meditativo, contemplativo. Mapaggunitâ, mapagnilay. Medium, n. [mídiam] Medio. Gitnâ, kalagitnaan. Medley, n. [médli] Miscelánea. Sarisarì, samotsamot. Meed, n. [mid] Premio, recompensa. Gantí, kaloob. Meek, adj. [mik] Manso, sumiso. Maamò, mababang loob. Meekness, n. [míknes] Mansedumbre. Kaamuan. Meet, v. [mit] Encontrar, hallar. Makasumpong, makatagpô, sumalubong. Meeting, n. [míting] Junta, asamblea, convencion. Pulong, pagtitipon. Melancholic, adj. [mélancolic] Melancólico, triste. Mapanglaw, malamlam, malungkot. Melancholy, n. [mélancoli] Melancolia. Panglaw, lamlam, lungkot. Meliorate, v. [mílioret] Mejorar. Pagalingin, pabutihin. Melliferous, adj. [méliferes] Melífero. Mapulót. Mellow, adj. [mélo] Maduro, sazonado; tierno. Hinog, magulang; malambot. Mellow, v. [mélo] Sazonar, madurar. Pahinugin, pagulangin; palambutin. Melodious, adj. [milódias] Melodioso. Mainam pakinggan. Melody, n. [mélodi] Melodia, dulzura. Inam ng tingig. Melon, n. [mélon] Melon. Milon. Melt, v. [melt] Derritir, fundir, disolver. Tumunaw; tunawin. Melting, n. [mélting] Derritimiento, fundicion. Pagtutunaw. Member, n. [mémber] Miembro, parte. Sangkap, bahagi, kasapì, kaanib, kasama. Membrane, n. [mémbren] Membrana. Balat na manipís. Memento, n. [miménto] Recuerdo, memoria. Alaala. Memoir, n. [mémoir] Memoria, narrativa. Alaala, gunamgunam. Memorable, adj. [mémorabl] Memorable. Naaalala. Memorandum, n. [memoramdum] Memorándum. Tandaan ng alaala. Memorial, n. [mimórial] Memoria, memorial. Alaala. Memorize, v. [mémoraiz] Poner de memoria, recordar. Isaulo, alalahanin, kabesahin. Memory, n. [mémori] Memoria. Alaala. Men, n. [men] Hombres. Mga tao, mga lalake. Menace, n. [ménez] Amenaza. Balà, pananakot. Menace, v. [ménez] Amenazar. Magbalà, manakot. Mend, v. [mend] Componer, remendar, reparar. Umayos, magsursí, magtagpî, kumumpuní. Mendacious, adj. [mendécioes] Mendoso, engañoso. Sinungaling, magdarayà. Mendacity, n. [mendásiti] Falsedad, engaño. Kasinungalingan, dayà. Mendicancy, n. [méndicansi] Mendiguez, mendicidad. Pagkapulubi, pamumulubi. Mendicant, n. [méndicant] Mendicante. Pulubi, nagpapalimos. Mendicity, n. [méndisiti] Mendicidad. Pamumulubi, pagkapulubi. Menial, adj. [mínial] Servil, doméstico. Malingkurin, mapaglingkod. Menial, n. [mínial] Criado doméstico, sirviente. Alilà, bataan. Mensual, adj. [ménsual] Lo que pertenece á la mesa. Nauukol sa dulang ó lamesa. Menstruation, n. [ménstriuecion] Menstruo. Agas. Mensurable, adj. [ménsiurabl] Mensurable. Nasusukat, natatarok. Mensural, adj. [ménsiural] Perteneciente á la medida. Nauukol sa sukat. Mensuration, n. [mensiurésion] Medicion, medida. Pagsukat, sukat. Mental, adj. [méntal] Mental, intelectual. Nauukol sa isip ó sa pagiisip. Mention, n. [mencion] Mencion, recuerdo. Banggít, pag-alala. Mention, v. [mencion] Mencionar. Bumanggit, umalala. Mercantile, adj. [mércantil] Mercantil. Nauukol sa pangangalakal. Mercenary, adj. & n. [mérsineri] Mercenario, interesado, el que obra solo por interes. Upahán, sakím. Merchandise, n. [mérchandais] Mercadería, mercancia. Kalakal. Merchant, n. [mérchant] Comerciante, negociante. Mángangalakal. Merchantman, n. [mérchantman] Navío ó buque mercantil. Sasakyan ng kalakal. Merciful, adj. [mérsiful] Misericordioso, piadoso, clemente. Mahabagin, maawaín. Merciless, adj. [mérsiles] Cruel, inhumano. Mabagsik, mabangis, matigas ang loob. Mercurial, adj. [merkiurial] Mercurial. Nauukol sa asoge. Mercury, n. [mérkiuri] Mercurio, metal fluido. Asoge. Mercy, n. [mérsi] Misericordia, piedad. Habag, awà. Mere, adj. [miér] Mero, puro, simple. Taganas, pulos. Merge, v. [merdch] Sumergir, hundirse. Sumisid, sumukbó, lumubog. Meridian, adj. & n. [merídian] Mediodia. Katanghalian. Merit, n. [mérit] Mérito. Karapatan. Merit, v. [mérit] Merecer. Maging dapat; marapatin. Meritorious, adj. [meritórias] Meritorio. Karapatdapat. Merriment, n. [mérriment] Alegría, júbilo, regocijo, diversion. Sayá, kasayahan, galak, kagalakan. Merry, adj. [mérri] Alegre, jovial, festivo. Masayá, twâ, galak. Mess, n. [mes] Plato, rancho, porcion. Pagkain. Message, n. [mésedch] Mensaje, parte, anuncio. Pasabi, pahatid, pabalità, pahiwatig. Messenger, n. [mésendcher] Mensajero. Utusán. Messiah, n. [mesáia] Mesías, Cristo. Mesyas, Kristo. Messmate, n. [mésmet] Comensal. Kasalo. Metal, n. [métal] Metal. Metal. Metallic, adj. [mitálic] Metálico. Nauukol sa metal. Metamorphose, v. [metamórfos] Trasformar. Baguhin ang anyô, mag-iba ng anyô. Metaphore, n. [métafor] Metáfora. Talinghaga. Mete, v. [mit] Medir. Sumukat, tumakal. Meter, n. [míter] Metro. Metro (panukat). Methinks, v. [mizíncs] Me parece, creo. Tila, sa akalà ko. Method, n. [mézod] Método. Paraan, palakad. Methodic, adj. [mizódic] Metódico. Nauukol sa paraan ó palakad. Methodical = Methodic. Metropolis, n. [mitrópolis] Metrópoli, capital. Pangulong bayan. Metropolitan, n. [metropólitan] Metropolitano. Nauukol sa pangulong bayan. Mettle, n. [metl] Brío, bizarría, valor, coraje, ardor. Gilas, lakas ng loob, tapang. Mettlesome, adj. [métlsam] Brioso, vivo, ardiente. Magilas, malakas ang loob. Mew, n. [miú] Maullido. Ngiyaw. Mew, v. [miú] Maullar. Ngumiyaw. Mewl, v. [miúl] Chillar, gritar. Umangal. Mice, n. [máis] Ratones. Mga dagâ. Midday, n. [mídde] Medio-dia. Tanghalì, katanghalian, á las dose. Middle, n. [mídl] Medio, centro. Gitnâ, kalagitnaan. Middling, adj. [mídling] Mediano, mediocre. Katamtaman, katatagán. Midge, n. [midch] Mosquito. Isang urì ng lamok. Midland, n. [midland] Mediterráneo. Kalookan, lupang nalolook. Midmost, adj. [midmost] En el medio. Nágigitnâ. Midnight, n. [mídnait] Media noche. Hating gabí. Midshipman, n. [mídshipman] Guardia marina. Punong kawaní sa sasakyan. Midst, n. [midst] Medio. Gitnâ, kalagitnaan. Midsummer, n. [mídsamer] Solsticio estival. Kasalsalan ng taginit. Midway, adv. [mídwe] A medio camino. Sa may kalagitnaan ng lakarín. Midway, n. [mídwe] Medio camino. Kalagitnaan ng lakarín. Midwife, n. [midwaif] Partera, comadrona. Hilot. Mien, n. [min] Semblante. Anyô, wangkí, wangis, pagmumukhâ. Miff, n. [mif] Disgusto, mal humor. Samâ ng loob, gálit. Might, n. [máit] Poder, fuerza. Kapangyarihan, lakás. Mightily, adv. [máitili] Poderosamente. May kapangyarihan. Mighty, adj. [máiti] Fuerte, potente. Malakas, makapangyarihan. Migrate, v. [maigret] Emigrar. Mangibang bayan ó lupain. Migration, a. [maigrécion] Emigracion. Pangingibang bayan ó lupain. Migratory, adj. [máigratori] Migratorio. Palipatlipat. Milch, adj. [milch] Lactífero. Magatas. Mild, adj. [máild] Apacible, suave. Maamò; matabang. Mildew, n. [míldiu] Moho. Amag. Mildness, n. [máildnes] Clemencia, dulzura. Kaamuan; tabang. Mile, n. [máil] Milla. Milya. Militant, adj. [mílitant] Militante. Nakalalaban. Military, adj. [míliteri] Militar. Nauukol sa kawal. Militate, v. [mílitet] Militar. Lumaban, magsundalo. Militia, n. [milícia] Milicia. Hukbó. Milk, n. [milk] Leche. Gatas. Milk, v. [milk] Ordeñar. Gumatas. Milkman, n. [mílkman] Lechero. Maggagatás. Milky, adj. [mílki] Lácteo, lactífero. Magatas. Mill, n. [mil] Molino, molinete. Gilingan, múlihan. Mill, v. [mil] Moler, desmenuzar. Gumiling, galapungín. Millennial, adj. [milénial] Milenario. Nauukol sa sanglibong taon. Millennium, n. [miléniam] Mileño. Sanglibong taon. Miller, n. [míler] Molinero. Manggigiling. Milliner, n. [míliner] Modista. Modista, mánanahing makabago ng damít. Millinery, n. [mílineri] Moda. Moda. Million, n. [mílion] Millon. Angaw. Millionth, adj. [mílionz] Millonésimo. Ikasang angaw. Millstone, n. [mílston] Piedra de molino. Batong gilingan. Milt, n. [milt] Lechecillas de las peces. Atay ng isdâ. Mimic, adj. [mímic] Imitativo, burlesco. Manggagagad, manggagaya, nakapaparis. Mimic, n. [mímic] Mimo. Gagad, hwad, pagparis, paggaya. Mimic, v. [mímic] Imitar, contrahacer. Gumagad, gumaya. Mimicry, n. [mímicri] Imitacion burlesca. Panggagagad, pangbabadyá. Mince, v. [mins] Picar (la carne). Tumadtad. Mincingly, adv. [mínsingli] A pedacitos. Tadtad. Mind, n. [máind] Mente; entendimiento; voluntad. Isip, warì, akalà; kalooban. Mind, v. [máind] Cuidar, observar, considerar. Mag-ingat, mabahalà. Minded, adj. [máinded] Inclinado, dispuesto. Mahilig, handâ. Mindful, adj. [máindful] Atento, cuidadoso, diligente. Maingat, mabait. Mine, pron. [máin] Mio. Akin, ko. Mine, n. [máin] Mina. Mina. Mine, v. [máin] Minar, cavar. Magmina, humukay. Mineral, adj. ó n. [míneral] Mineral. Mineral, bagay ng mina. Mingle, v. [míngl] Mezclar. Maghalò; maglahok. Miniature, n. [míniechur] Miniatura. Larawan. Minim, n. [mínim] Mínimo. Anomang nápakaliit. Minimise, v. [minimais] Reducir á un minimum. Pakaliitin. Minimum, n. [mínimum] Lo mínimo. Káliitliitan. Minion, n. [mínion] Favorito. Ang nililingap, ang minamahal. Minister, n. [mínister] Ministro. Pastor, tagapangasiwà, lingkod. Minister, v. [mínister] Ministrar, servir. Mangasiwà, maglingkod. Ministration, n. [ministrécion] Ministerio. Pangangasiwà. Ministry, n. [mínistri] Ministerio. Pangangasiwà. Minor, adj. [máinor] Menor, inferior. Muntî. Minor, n. [máinor] Menor de edad. Walâ pa sa tadhanang gulang. Minority, n. [minóriti] Minoridad. Pagkamuntî. Minster, n. [minster] Monasterio, cofradía eclesiástica. Monasterio, simbahan. Mint, n. [mint] Casa de moneda. Bahay na pinagbububuan ng salapî. Mint, v. [mint] Acuñar. Magbubò ng salapî. Minus, adj. [mínus] Menos. Kulang. Minute, adj. [mínit] Menudo, pequeño. Muntî. Minute, n. [mínit] Minuto. Minuto. Minx, n. [mincs] Mosa atrevida y libre. Babaing magaslaw, babaing pangahas. Miracle, n [míracl] Milagro, obra divina. Himalâ, gawang Dyos. Miraculous, adj. [mirákiulas] Milagroso. Kahimahimalâ. Mire, n. [máir] Cieno, fango, limo. Burak, banlík, lusak. Mirk, adj. [mirk] Oscuro, lóbrego. Madilím, malamlam. Mirksome, adj. [mírksam] Oscuro, lóbrego. Madilím, malamlam. Mirky, adj. [mírki] Oscuro, lóbrego. Madilim, malamlam. Mirror, n. [mírror] Espejo. Salamin. Mirth, n. [mirz] Alegría, regocijo, gozo, júbilo. Sayá, twâ, galák, kasayahan, katwaan, kagalakan. Mirthful, adj. [mírzful] Alegre, jovial, contento. Masayá, twâ, galák. Miry, adj. [máiri] Cenagoso, lodoso. Maburak, malusak, mabanlík, maputik. Misadventure, adj. [misadvénchur] Desgracia, revés, infortunio. Kasawían, kabalintunaan, kapahamakán. Misapplication, n. [misaplikécion] Mala aplicacion ó mal uso de una cosa. Samâ ng pagkagamit, kamalian ng pag-uukol. Misapply, v. [misaplái] Usar de alguna cosa impropiamente. Magkamalî ng paggamit. Misapprehend, v. [misaprijénd] Entender mal. Magkangdidinggan. Misapprehension, n. [misaprijéncion] Mala inteligencia. Pagkangdidinggán. Misbehave, v. [misbijév] Portarse mal, obrar ó proceder mal. Magpakasamâ, magmasamang ugalì. Misbehavior, n. [misbijévior] Mala conducta, mala accion. Masamang ugalì, masamang gawâ. Misbelief, n. [misbilíf] Opinión falsa, heterodoxia. Malíng akalà, malíng pananalig. Miscalculate, v. [miscálkiulet] Calcular mal. Kumurò ng pamalî, tumuus na may kamalian. Miscarriage, n. [miscárriedch] Aborto. Nakunan. Miscarry, v. [miscárri] Abortar, malparir. Makunan. Miscellaneous, adj. [miselénias] Miscelánea. Sarìsarì, samotsarì. Mischance, n. [mischáns] Desgracia, desdicha, infortunio, fatalidad. Kapahamakán, kasawían. Mischief, n. [míschif] Mal, daño, perjuicio. Samâ, likót. Mischievous, adj. [míschivas] Dañino, perjudicial, enredador. Masamâ, malikot. Misconceive, v. [misconsív] Formar concepto erróneo. Maghinalà, magbintang. Misconception, n. [misconsépcion] Concepto equívoco, equivocación. Maling akalà, kamalian. Misconduct, n. [miscóndact] Mala conducta, mal porte. Pangungugaling masamâ, asal na masamâ. Misconduct, v. [miscóndact] Portarse mal. Magmasamang ugalì. Misconstruction, n. [misconstráccion] Mala construccion, mal sentido. Maling pagkakaugnay ng mga salitâ. Misconstrue, v. [miscónstriu] Interpretar mal. Magkámalî ng paliwanag. Miscreant, n. [míscriant] Infiel, incrédulo, malvado. Walang pananalig, walang pananampalataya, masamâ. Misdeed, n. [misdíd] Mala accion, mal hecho, crimen, delito. Gawang masamâ, sala. Misdemeanor, n. [misdimínor] Mal proceder, mala conducta. Pangungugaling masamâ. Misdirect, v. [misdírect] Dirigir erradamente. Magligáw, maglisyâ. Misdoubt, v. [misdáut] Recelar, sospechar. Maghinalà, magsapantahà. Miser, n. [máizer] Tacaño, avariento. Maramot, sakim. Miserable, adj. [míserabl] Miserable, infeliz. Abâ, sawî. Miserably, adv. [míserabli] Miserablemente. Kaabâabâ. Misery, n. [míseri] Miseria, infortunio. Hirap, kahirapan, kasalatan. Misfortune, n. [misfórchiun] Infortunio; desgracia, desastre, calamidad. Kasawian, kaabaáng palad, kapahamakan, sakunâ. Misgive, v. [misguív] Llenar de dudas ó recelos, hacer temer ó dudar. Papag-alapaapin ang kalooban; mag-agam-agam. Misgiving, n. [misguíving] Recelo, duda. Agam-agam, pag-aalapaap ng kalooban, pagaalangan. Misgovern, v. [misgóvern] Desgobernar. Mamahala ó mamunô ng masamâ. Misguide, v. [misgáid] Descaminar, extraviar. Iligáw, ilihís, ilisyá. Mishap, n. [misjáp] Desgracia, calamidad, desastre. Kapahamakan, sakunâ. Misinform, v. [misinfórm] Informar ó enterar mal. Magkamalî ng pahiwatig, magbalitâ ng dî totoo. Misinterpret, v. [misintérpret] Intepretar mal. Magkamalî ng paliwanag. Misjudge, v. [misdchádch] Formar conceptos erróneos. Magbintang ó magparatang ng dî totoo. Mislay, v. [mislé] Colocar mal, extraviar. Magkamalî ng paglalagay, málisyâ. Mislead, v. [mislíd] Extraviar, descarriar, descaminar. Magligáw, málisyâ, maglihís. Mismanage, v. [mismánedch] Conducir mal alguna cosa. Mamamugot ng masamâ, mamahalà ng dî wastô. Mismanagement, n. [mismánedchment] Mala administration, desarreglo. Pamamahalang dî wastô. Misname, v. [misném] Trasnombrar, dar un nombre falso. Magkámalî sa pangalan. Misplace, v. [mispleís] Colocar mal. Magkamalî ng paglalagay. Misprint, n. [misprínt] Erratas en la impresion. Kamalian sa paglilimbag. Misprint, v. [misprínt] Imprimir mal. Magkamalî ng paglimbag. Misrepresent, v. [misrepresént] Representar mal. Magkamalî sa palabas ó pagtatanghal. Misrepresentation, n. [misreprisentécion] Representacion falsa. Masamang pagkapalabas. Misrule, n. [misriúl] Tumulto, desorden, desarreglo, confusion. Kagulo, kawalán ng ayos. Miss, n. [mis] Señorita. Gining, binibini. Miss, n. [mis] Pérdida, falta. Laktaw, kulang, malî. Miss, v. [mis] Frustrarse, faltar. Sumala, lumisyâ, lumaktaw, magkulang. Missal, n. [mísal] Misal, el libro que contiene el orden de celebrar la misa. Misal, aklat ng misa. Misshape, v. [mishép] Deformar, desfigurar. Papangitin, pasamain ang anyô ó hichura. Missible, adj. [mísil] Arrojadizo. Humihilagpós. Missing, n. [mísing] Lo que falta, lo perdido. Ang kulang, ang nawalâ. Mission, n. [mísion] Misión. Tungkúlin, misyon. Missionary, n. [misíoneri] Misionero. Misyonero, mang-aakít sa gayo't gayong pananalig. Missive, n. [mísiv] Carta misiva. Sulat na may taglay na bilin. Mist, n. [mist] Niebla. Ulap. Mistake, n. [misték] Equivocacion, yerro. Kamalian, mali. Mistake, v. [misték] Equivocarse. Magkamalî. Mister, n. [míster] Señor. Ginoo, mamà, mang. Mistiness, n. [místines] Nebulosidad. Ulap. Mistress, n. [místres] Ama, señora de casa; concubina. Babaing panginoon sa bahay; babae. Mistrust, n. [mistrást] Desconfianza, sospecha. Hinalà, sapantahà. Mistrust, v. [mistrást] Desconfiar, sospechar. Maghinalà, magsapantahà. Misty, adj. [místi] Nebuloso. Maulap, mahamóg. Misunderstand, v. [misandersténd] Entender mal una cosa. Magkangdidinggan. Misusage, n. [misiúzedch] Abuso. Pagpapakalabis. Misuse, v. [misiúr] Maltratar, abusar de algo. Tumampalasan, humamak. Mite, n. [máit] Cresa, pizca. Munting bagay. Mitigate, v. [mítiguet] Mitigar, moderar, calmar. Humumpay, tumigil, pumayapà. Mitigation, n. [mitiguécion] Mitigacion. Paghumpay, pagtigil. Mitre, n. [máiter] Mitra. Gorra ng arsobispo. Mix, v. [mics] Mezcla. Maghalò, maglahok, magbantô. Mixture, n. [mícschur] Mistura, mezcla. Halò, lahok, bantô. Mizzen, n. [mizn] Mesana. Layag sa káhulíhulihan ng sasakyan. Mizzle, v. [mizl] Lloviznar. Umambon. Moan, n. [mon] Lamento, quejido, gemido. Panaghoy, hibík, daing. Moan, v. [mon] Lamentar, gemir; lamentarse, quejarse. Managhoy, humibik, dumaing. Moat, n. [mot] Mota; foso ó canal. Sangká; bangbang. Moat, v. [mot] Rodear con canales de agua. Magbangbang. Mob, n. [mob] Populacho, gentuza. Kapal ng tao, bunton ng tao. Mobilise, v. [móbilais] Movilizar. Ihandâ ang mga kawal, kumilos. Mobility, n. [mobíliti] Movilidad. Galaw, kilos. Moccasin, n. [mócasin] Zapato ramplón de los indianos. Sapatos ng mga negro sa Amérika. Mock, adj. [moc] Ficticio, falso, burlesco. Gagad, birò. Mock, n. [moc] Mofa, burla. Uyám, gagad, tuyâ. Mock, v. [moc] Mofar, burlar, escarnecer. Umuyam, gumagad, tumuyâ, manuyâ. Mockery, n. [mókeri] Mofa, burla. Pang-uuyam, panggagagad, panunuyâ, tuyâ. Mode, n. [mod] Modo, manera, método, forma, costumbre. Paraan, palakad, ayos, anyô, hichura, kilos, asal, ugalì. Model, n. [módel] Modelo. Parisán; ulirán, halimbawà. Moderate, adj. [móderet] Moderado, templado. Katamtaman, hinahon, banayad. Moderate, v. [móderet] Moderar, templar. Magpakahinahon. Moderation, n. [moderécion] Moderacion. Hinahon, bait. Modern, adj. [módern] Moderno, nuevo, reciente. Bago, kalilitaw lamang. Modernize, v. [módernais] Modernizar. Gawing bago. Modest, adj. [módest] Modesto, recatado, púdico. Mapitagan, maingat, mabait, mabini. Modesty, n. [módesti] Modestia, decencia, pudor. Bait, pagkamabini, pitagan. Modification, n. [modifikécion] Modificacion. Pagkabago. Modify, v. [módifai] Modificar. Bumago. Modulate, v. [módiulet] Modular. Tugmaan ng tingig. Modulation, n. [modiulécion] Modulacion. Pagtutugmâ ng tingig. Mohair, n. [mójeir] Pelo de camello. Balahibo ng kamelyo. Moiety, n. [móiiti] Mitad. Kalahatì. Moist, adj. [móist] Húmedo. Halomigmig. Moisten, v. [móisn] Humedecer. Maghalomigmig. Moisture, n. [moístiur] Humedad. Halomigmig. Molar, adj. [mólar] Molar. Nauukol sa bagáng. Molasses, n. [molásez] Melaza, miel. Inuyat, pulót. Mole, n. [mol] Mola. Kiyawà. Molest, v. [molést] Molestar, inquietar. Bumagabag, umabala, mangligalig. Molestation, n. [molestécion] Molestia. Bagabag, abala, ligalig. Mollification, n. [molifikécion] Molificacion, suavizacion. Kalambután. Mollify, v. [mólifai] Molificar, ablandar. Lumambot. Molten, adj. [móltn] Derretido. Tunáw, lusaw. Moment, n. [móment] Momento. Sangdalî. Momentarily, adv. [mómentarili] Á cada momento. Sa bawa't sangdalî. Momentary, n. [mómentari] Momentáneo. Sangdalian. Momentous, adj. [moméntous] Importante. Mahalaga, makabuluhan. Momentum, n. [moméntum] Fuerza de impulsion de un cuerpo. Lakas, tulin, liksí, bilís. Monarch, n. [mónarc] Monarca, potentado. Harì, punò. Monarchal, adj. [monárcal] Monárquico, real. Nauukol sa harì. Monarchy, n. [mónarqui] Monarquía. Kaharian. Monastery, n. [mónasteri] Monasterio. Bahay-monghe. Monastic, adj. [monástic] Monástico. Nauukol sa monghe. Monday, n. [mónde] Lunes. Lunes. Monetary, n. [mónetari] Monetario. Nauukol sa salapî. Money, n. [móni] Moneda, dinero. Salapî. Moneyed, adj. [mónid] Adinerado. Masalapî, mayaman. Monger, n. [mónguer] Tratante, traficante. Mángangalakal. Monition, n. [monícion] Amonestacion, exhortacion. Pangusap, pangaral. Monitor, n. [mónitor] Amonestador. Tagapangusap, tagapangaral. Monk, n. [monk] Monje. Monghe. Monkey, n. [mónki] Mono. Unggoy. Monogamy, n. [monógami] Monogamia. Kasal, pagkakasal. Monopolize, v. [monópolaiz] Monopolizar. Sarilining lahat ang gayo't gayong pagkabuhay. Monotonous, adj. [monótonas] Monótono. Isang tingig. Monsoon, n. [monzún] Monzón. Hangin sa isang pook. Monster, n. [mónster] Monstruo. Bagay na totoong malaki, hayop. Monstrous, adj. [mónstrous] Monstruoso. Kakilakilabot. Month, n. [manz] Mes. Bwan. Monthly, adj. [mánzli] Mensual. Bwan-bwan. Monument, n. [móniument] Monumento. Monumento. Monumental, adj. [moniuméntal] Monumental. Nauukol sa monumento ó alaala. Mood, n. [mud] Humor, capricho. Buti ó samâ ng ulo ó pag-iisip, sumpong. Moody, adj. [múdi] Caprichoso. Sumpúngin. Moon, n. [mun] Luna. Bwan (sa langit). Moonlight, n. [múnlait] Luz de la luna. Liwanag ng bwan. Moonshine, n. [múnsiain] Claridad de la luna. Liwayway ng bwan. Moor, n. [mur] Pantano, ciénaga; moro. Latian, kominoy; moro. Moor, v. [mur] Situarse en algun paraje. Dumaóng ang sasakyán. Mooring, n. [múring] Amarradura. Daungan, punduhan. Moorland, n. [múrland] Marjal. Latian. Moory, adj. [múri] Pantanoso. Malabón. Moot, v. [mut] Debatir materias de ley. Magtalo ng tungkol sa kautusan. Mop, n. [mop] Estropajo. Pang-isís. Mop, v. [mop] Aljofifa. Mag-isís. Mope, v. [mop] Dormitar, entontecerse, estar meláncolico. Magtulóg, tumangá, mamanláw. Mopish, adj. [mópish] Atontado, estúpido. Tulíg, tangá. Moral, adj. [móral] Moral. Nauukol sa mabuti at matwíd na kaugalian. Morality, n. [moráliti] Moralidad. Kalinisan ng ugalì. Moralization, n. [moraliszécion] Moralizacion. Paglinis ng ugalì. Moralize, v. [móralaiz] Moralizar. Pabutihin ang kaugalian. Morass, n. [morás] Lavajo, tremedal. Lámawan. Morbid, adj. [mórbid] Morboso. Nakapagkakasakít. Mordant, n. [mórdant] Mordiente. Gamit sa mga kayo na tinitinà. More, adj. [mor] Mas. Lalò, higít, lampás. Moreover, adv. [moróver] Ademas. Bukod sa rito, sakâ. Morning, adj. [mórning] Matutino. Nauukol sa umaga. Morn, n. [morn] Mañana. Umaga. Morning, n. [morning] Mañana. Umaga. Morocco, n. [moróco] Marroquí. Katad na manipís. Morose, n. [morós] Moroso. Masungit, makuyad. Morrow, n. [mór-ro] Mañana. Búkas. Morsel, n. [mórsel] Bocado. Subò. Mortal, n. [mórtal] Mortal. Makamamatay. Mortal, n. [mórtal] El hombre. Ang tao. Mortar, n. [mórtar] Mortero, almirez. Almires, lusóng, dikdikan. Mortgage, n. [mórguedch] Hipoteca. Sanglâ. Mortgage, v. [mórguedch] Hipotecar. Isanglâ. Mortgagee, n. [morguidchí] El que da dinero sobre una hipoteca. Nagpapasanglâ. Mortgager, n. [mórguedcher] Hipotecario. Nagsasanglâ. Mortification, n. [mortifikécion] Mortificacion. Dalamhatì, pighatì. Mortify, v. [mórtifai] Mortificar. Dumalamhatì, pumighatì. Mortise, n. [mórtis] Cotana ó muesca. Kutab. Mosaic, adj. [mozéic] Lo que pertenece á Moises. Nauukol kay Moises. Mosque, n. [mosc] Mezquita. Simbahang moro. Mosquito, n. [moskíto] Mosquito. Lamok. Mosquito-net, n. [moskíto-net] Pavellon. Kulambô. Moss, n. [mos] Musgo, moho, especie de heno ó zacate. Lumot. Mossiness, n. [mósines] El estado de lo que se halla cubierto de musgo. Nilulumot. Mossy, adj. [mósi] Mohoso. Malumot. Most, adj. & adv. [móst] Lo mas; la mayor parte de. Pinaka; kalakhang bahagi. Mostly, adv. [móstli] Por la mayor parte. Halos lahat. Mote, n. [mot] Mota, átomo. Kapyangot, muntíng, muntî. Moth, n. [moz] Polilla. Tangà. Moth-eaten, adj. [móz-itn] Apolillado. Tinatangà. Mother, n. [módzer] Madre. Iná. Motherhood, n. [módzerjud] Maternidad. Pagkainá. Mother-in-law, n. [módzer-in-lo] Suegra. Byenang babae. Motherless, adj. [módzerles] Sin madre. Walang iná. Motherly, adj. [módzerli] Maternal, materno. Nauukol sa iná. Motherly, adv. [módzerli] Maternalmente. Parang ina. Motion, n. [mócion] Movimiento, mocion. Galaw, kilos. Motionless, adj. [mócionles] Inmoble, inmovible. Nakatigil, walang galaw, walang kilos. Motive, n. [mótiv] Motivo, causa ó razon. Dahilán. Motley, n. [mótli] Abigarrado. Sarisaring kulay. Motto, n. [móto] Mote, tema, divisa. Patnugot, patnubay, sagisag. Mould, n. [mold] Moho. Bukbók, amag. Mound, n. [máund] Terraplén. Tambák. Mount, n. [máunt] Monte, montaña. Bundók. Mount, v. [máunt] Subir, ascender, elevarse, montar. Sumampá; umahon; pailanglang; sumakay. Mountain, n. [máunten] Monte, montaña, sierra. Bundok, kabundukan. Mountaineer, n. [mauntenír] Montañez. Taong bundok, taga bundok, tagaitaas. Mountainous, adj. [máuntinas] Montañoso. Mabundok. Mourn, v. [morn] Lamentar; llevar luto. Managhoy, manangis; magluksà, magluto. Mournful, adj. [mórnful] Triste, melancólico. Malungkot, mapanglaw. Mourning, n. [móurning] Lamento, llanto, gemido; luto. Panaghoy, panangis; luksâ, luto. Mouse, n. [máus] Raton. Dagâ. Mouse-hole, n. [máus-jol] Agujero hecho por los ratones. Lunggâ ng dagâ. Mouse-trap, n. [máus-trap] Ratonera. Panghuli ng dagâ. Moustache, n. [mástach] Bigotes. Bigote. Mouth, n. [máuz] Boca; entrada; embocadura. Bibíg; bungangà; wawà. Mouthful, n. [máuzful] Bocado. Subò. Move, v. [muv] Mover, menear. Gumalaw, kumilos. Movement, n. [múvment] Movimiento, meneo. Galaw, kilos. Moving, n. [móving] Movimiento. Paggalaw, pagkilos. Mow, n. [mo] Granero. Bangan. Mow, v. [mo] Guadañar, segar. Gumapas, umani. Mower, n. [móer] Guadañero. Panggapas; manggagapas. Mr., n. [míster] Señor, Sr. Dn.. Ginoo, mamà, Mg. Mrs., n. [míses] Señora, Sra.. Ginang, ale. Much, adj. & adv. [mach] Mucho. Marami. Mucilage, n. [miúsiledch] Mucílago. Pangdikít. Mucilaginous, adj. [miusíladchines] Mucilaginoso, viscoso. Malagkit. Muck, n. [mac] Abono; cualquiera cosa baja y asquerosa. Pangpatabâ ng lupà; pusalì. Mucous, adj. [miúkous] Mocoso. Úhugin. Mucousness, n. [miúkousnes] Mocosidad. Uhog. Mud, n. [mad] Lodo, fango, limo, cieno, barro. Putik, burak, banlík. Muddle, v. [mádl] Enturbiar. Labukahin, labuin. Muddy, adj. [mádi] Cenagoso. Maputik, maburak, mabanlík. Mug, n. [mag] Cubilete. Tasa. Muggy, adj. [mágui] Húmedo. Basâ, halomigmig. Mulatto, n. [miuláto] Mulato. Mestisong itím. Mulct, n. [melct] Multa. Multá. Mulct, v. [melct] Multar. Magmultá. Mule, n. [miúl] Mula. Mula, kabayong matangkad. Muleteer, n. [miuletír] Mulero, mozo de mulas. Tagapagalagà ng mula. Mullet, n. [málet] Múgil, sargo. Bwan-bwan [isdâ]. Multifarious, adj. [maltiférious] Multifario; vario, diferente. Sarìsarì. Multiped, n. [máltiped] Cientopiés. Alupihan. Multiplication, n. [multiplikécion] Multiplicacion. Pagmumultiplikar, pagpaparami. Multiply, v. [múltiplai] Multiplicar. Magmultiplikar, magparami. Multitude, n. [múltitiud] Multitud, muchedumbre. Karamihan, kakapalán, ng tao, bunton ng tao. Multitudinous, adj. [multitiúdines] Numeroso. Marami, makapal. Mum, int. [man] ¡Chiton! ¡silencio!. ¡Marahan! Mumble, n. [mambl] Gruñir, murmullar entre dientes. Umungol, magngalit. Mummy, n. [mámi] Momia. Bangkay ng tao na dî bulók, bangkay na inimbalsamá. Mump, v. [mamp] Mordiscar, mascar. Kumagat. Mumps, n. [mamps] Murria, tumores glandulosos del cuello. Bekè. Munch, v. [manch] Mascar á dos carrillos. Mamualan. Mundane, adj. [mánden] Mundano. Nauukol sa lupà. Municipal, adj. [miunísipal] Municipal. Nauukol sa munisipyo. Municipality, n. [miunisipáliti] Municipalidad. Munisipyo. Munificence, n. [miunífisens] Munificencia, generosidad. Kagandahang loob. Munificent, adj. [miunífisent] Munífico, generoso. Magandang loob. Munition, n. [miunícion] Municiones. Kasangkapang pangdigmà. Murder, n. [márder] Asesinato, homicidio. Pagpatay ng tao. Murder, v. [márder] Asesinar. Pumatay ng tao. Murderer, n. [márderer] Asesino. Nakamatay ng tao. Murderess, n. [márderes] Asesina. Babaing nakamatay ng tao. Murderous, adj. [márderes] Sanguinario. Nakamamatay. Murky, adj. [márki] Oscuro, lóbrego. Malabò, malamlam. Murmur, n. [mármar] Murmullo, susurro; rumor; murmuracion. Lagaslas [ng tubig]; bulongbulungan. Murmur, v. [mármar] Murmurrar, susurrar. Bumulongbulong. Muscle, n. [masl] Músculo. Kalamnan sa hità at bisig. Muscular, adj. [múskiular] Muscular. Malakas. Muse, n. [miúz] Musa, meditacion. Warì, dilìdilì, gunitâ. Muse, v. [miúz] Meditar, reflexionar profundamente. Magwarì, magdilìdilì, gumunitâ. Museum, n. [miúsiem] Museo. Museo, tanghalan. Mushroom, n. [máshrum] Seta. Kabutí. Music, n. [miúzic] Música. Músika, tugtog, tugtúgin, tugtugan. Musical, adj. [miúzical] Musical. Nauukol sa tugtog ó tugtugin. Musician, n. [miuzícian] Músico. Músiko, mánunugtog. Musket, n. [másket] Mosquete. Baríl. Musketeer, n. [masketír] Mosquetero. Mámamaril. Muslin, n. [máslin] Muselina. Kayong muselina. Muss, n. [moes] Arrebatiña. Agawán. Mussel, n. [masl] Almeja. Kabibe, tikhan, paros. Must, v. [mast] Deber, ser preciso, ser menester. Dapat, marapat. Mustache, n. [mástach] Mostachos, bigotes. Bigote. Mustard, n. [mástard] Mostaza. Mustasa, kíluwâ. Muster, v. [moester] Unirse para formar un ejército. Magiipon. Mutability, n. [miutabíliti] Mutabilidad. Pagkabago, pagbabago. Mutable, adj. [miútabl] Mudable, inconstante. Nababago, sálawahan. Mutation, n. [miutécion] Mudanza, alteracion. Pagbabago, pagkabago. Mute, adj. [miút] Mudo; silencioso. Pipi; tahimik. Mutilate, v. [miútilet] Mutilar. Sumirà, magwasak. Mutilation, n. [miutilécion] Mutilacion. Pagsirà, pagwawasak. Mutineer, n. [miutinír] Amotinador, sedicioso. Mapanghimagsík. Mutinous, adj. [miútinos] Amotinado, turbulento. Mapanghimagsik, manggugulo. Mutiny, n. [miútini] Motin, tumulto. Guló, panghihimagsík. Mutiny, v. [miútini] Amotinarse, rebelarse. Manggulo, manghimagsik. Mutter, n. [matter] Murmuracion, queja. Angil, dabog. Mutter, v. [matter] Murmurar, refunfuñar. Umangil, dumabog. Mutton, n. [matn] Carnero. Lamán ó karné ng tupa. Mutual, adj. [miúchiual] Mutual, recíproco. Magkaayon. Mutuality, n. [miuchiuáliti] Reciprocidad. Pagkakaayon. Muzzle, n. [mazl] Bozal. Sangkál, busál. My, pron. [mai] Mi, mis. Akin, ko. Myriad, n. [míriad] Miriado, diez mil. Laksâ. Myrmidon, n. [mírmidon] Rufian. Búgaw, nangangalakal ng babae. Myself, pron. [maisélf] Yo mismo. Ako rin, ako ngà. Mysterious, adj. [mistírias] Misterioso. Mahiwagà. Mystery, n. [místeri] Misterio. Hiwagà. Mystic, n. [místic] Místico. Hiwagà [sa pananalig]. Myth, n. [miz] Fábula mitológica. Kathang isip. Mythology, n. [mizólodchi] Mitologia. May kinalaman sa kapaniwalaang kathang isip. N N, [en] N (ene). N (na). Nab, v. [nab] Atrapar. Sunggabán, dakpin. Nag, n. [nag] Haca, jaca. Kabayo. Nail, n. [neíl] Uña; clavo. Kukó; pakò. Nail, v. [neíl] Clavar, clavetear. Magpakò. Nailer, n. [neíler] Chapucero. Tagapagpakò, tagagawâ ng pakò. Nailery, n. [neíleri] Fábrica de clavos. Gáwaan ng pakò. Naked, adj. [néked] Desnudo, en cueros. Hubád, hubô. Nakedness, n. [nékednes] Desnudez. Kahubuan. Name, n. [neím] Nombre. Pangalan, alan, ngalan. Name, v. [neím] Nombrar. Magpangalan; pangalán. Nameless, adj. [némles] Anónimo. Walang pangalan. Namely, adv. [némli] Señaladamente, á saber. Ang kasunod, sa makatwid bagá. Namesake, n. [némsec] Tocayo. Tukayo, kaisa ng pangalan. Nap, n. [nap] Sueño ligero, siesta. Idlip, tulog sa tanghalì. Nape, n. [nep] Nuca. Batok. Napkin, n. [nápkin] Servilleta. Serbilyeta, pámahiran. Narcotic, adj. [narcótic] Narcótico. Pangpatulog. Narrate, v. [nárret] Narrar, relacionar. Magsaysay, magsalaysay. Narration, n. [narrécion] Narracion. Salaysay. Narrative, adj. [nárretiv] Narrativo. Sálaysayin. Narrow, adj. [nárro] Angosto, estrecho. Makitid, makipot. Narrow, v. [nárro] Estrechar. Pakitirin, pakiputin. Nasal, adj. [násal] Nasal. Pahumál, nauukol sa ilóng. Nastiness, n. [nástines] Suciedad, porquería. Kasalaulaan, kababuyan. Nasty, adj. [násti] Sucio, puerco. Salaulà, baboy. Natal, adj. [nátal] Nativo, natal. Katutubò. Natation, n. [nétecion] Nadadura. Langoy, paglangoy. Nation, n. [nécion] Nacion. Bansá, nasyon. National, adj. [nécional] Nacional. Nauukol sa bansá. Nationality, n. [necionáliti] Nacionalidad. Pagkatao, pagkataga gayong bansá. Native, adj. & n. [nétiv] Nativo, natural. Taga..., tubò sa.... Nativity, n. [netíviti] Nacimiento. Kapangganakan. Natural, adj. [néchural] Natural. Talaga, likás, katutubò. Naturalization, n. [nechuralizécion] Naturalizacion. Pag aring parang taga gayong bansá sa nakikipamayan doon. Nature, n. [néchur] Naturaleza. Katalagahan, kalikasan. Naught, n. [not] Nada. Walâ. Naughty, adj. [nóti] Malo, indigno, enredador. Masamâ, malikot, makarás. Nausea, n. [nósia] Náusea. Alibadbad. Nauseate, v. [nósiet] Nausear, tener asco. Umalibadbad ang síkmurà, masuklam, marimarim. Nauseous, adj. [nósies] Asqueroso. Nakaaalibadbad, nakakasuklam. Nautical, adj. [nótical] Náutico. Nauukol sa karunungan sa dagat. Naval, adj. [nával] Naval. Nauukol sa hukbong dagat. Nave, n. [nev] Parte principal del cuerpo de la iglesia. Loob ng simbahan. Navel, n. [névl] Ombligo. Pusod. Navigable, adj. [náviguebl] Navegable. Mararaanan ng sasakyan sa tubig. Navigate, v. [náviguet] Navegar. Maglayag, maglakbay sa dagat. Navigation, n. [naviguécion] Navegacion. Paglalayág, paglalakbay sa dagat. Navigator, n. [náviguetor] Navegador. Mapaglayág, mapaglakbay sa dagat. Navy, n. [névi] Marina. Hukbong-dagat. Nay, adj. [ne] No. Hindî; walâ. Near, adv. & prep. [niár] Cerca de, junto a. Malapit, karatig. Nearly, adv. [niárli] A poca distancia, cercanamente. Malapítlapít, halos. Neat, adj. [nit] Hermoso, pulido, limpio, aseado. Maganda, mainam, makinis, malinis. Neat, n. [nit] Hermoso, pulido; ganado vacuno. Maganda, mainam; mga baka. Neatness, n. [nítnes] Hermosura, elegancia, limpieza, delicadeza. Kagandahan, kainaman, kakinisan, kalinisan. Nebulous, adj. [nébiules] Nebuloso. Maulap. Necessary, n. [níceseri] Necesario. Kailangan. Necessitate, v. [nicésitet] Necesitar, precisar. Mangailangan. Necessitous, adj. [nicésitoes] Necesitado, pobre. Nangangailangan, salát. Necessity, n. [nicésiti] Necesidad. Kailangan, pangangailangan. Neck, n. [nec] Cuello. Leeg. Necklace, n. [nécles] Collar. Kwintás. Necktie, n. [néctai] Corbata. Korbatang mahabà. Necrology, n. [nicrólodchi] Necrología. Pagbabalità ng tungkol sa nangamatay. Necromancy, n. [nícromansi] Nigromancia. Panghuhulà sa pagmamalas sa mga bangkay. Need, n. [nid] Necesidad; pobreza. Pangangailangan, kahirapan. Need, v. [nid] Necesitar. Mangailangan. Needful, adj. [nídful] Necesario. Kailangan. Needle, n. [nídl] Aguja. Karayom. Needless, adj. [nídles] Superfluo, inutil. Kalabisán, walang kabuluhan. Needlework, n. [nídluerk] Bordado de aguja. Tahî ng kamay. Needy, adj. [nídi] Indigente, necesitado. Salat, nangangailangan. Nefarious, adj. [niférioes] Nefario. Masamâ, nakahihiyâ. Negation, n. [niguécion] Negacion. Pagpapahindî, pagpapawalâ, pagkakailâ, pag-ayaw, pagtatatwâ. Negative, adj. [négativ] Negativo. Kumakailâ. Negative, n. [négativ] Negativa. Kailâ, tanggí, tatwâ. Neglect, n. [nigléct] Descuido, negligencia. Kapabayaan, lingat. Neglect, v. [nigléct] Descuidar, desatender. Magpabayâ, makalingat. Neglectful, adj. [nigléctful] Negligente, descuidado. Pabayâ, lingát. Negligence, n. [néglidchens] Negligencia, descuido. Pagpapabayâ, pabayâ. Negligent, adj. [néglidchent] Negligente, descuidado. Pabayâ. Negotiate, v. [nigóciet] Negociar. Mangalakal. Negotiation, n. [nigociécion] Negociacion. Pangangalakal. Negress, n. [nígres] Negra. Babaing maitím. Negro, n. [nígro] Negro, etíope. Taong maitím. Neigh, n. [ne] Relincho. Singasíng ng kabayo. Neigh, v. [ne] Relinchar. Magsingasíng. Neighbor, n. [nébor] Prójimo, vecino. Kapwà, kapwà-tao, kapitbahay. Neighbor, v. [nébor] Confinar. Lumapít, makipagkapit bahay. Neighborhood, n. [néborjud] Vecindad, vecindario. Pook. Neither, conj. [nídzer] Ninguno, ni uno ni otro. Kahi't sino, kahi't alin man. Neophyte, n. [níofait] Neófito. Bagong binyagan, bagong nag-aaral. Nephew, n. [néfiu] Sobrino. Pamangking lalake. Nerve, n. [nerv] Nervio, fortaleza, vigor. Litid, lakás. Nervous, adj. [nérvas] Nervioso, nervudo. Nerbioso, litirán. Nest, n. [nest] Nido. Pugad. Nest, v. [nest] Nidificar, anidar. Magpugad. Nestle, v. [nesl] Anidarse, alojarse. Magpugad, humalimlim, tumahan. Nestling, n. [nésling] Pollo. Inakáy, sisiw. Net, adj. [net] Neto, limpio, puro. Neto, malinis, bukod ang nagugol. Net, n. [net] Red. Lambát. Nether, adj. [nédzer] Inferior. Lalong mababà, lalong alangan. Netting, n. [néting] Mallado. Nilambát. Nettle, n. [netl] Ortiga. Lipay. Nettle, v. [netl] Picar [como ortiga]. Makálipay. Network, n. [nétwork] Randa, obra de malla. Yaring tila lambat. Neuter, adj. [niúter] Neutro. Neutro, álanganin. Neutral, adj. [niútral] Neutral. Álanganin, walang kinakampihan. Neutrality, n. [niutráliti] Neutralidad. Pagkawalang kakampí. Neutralize, v. [niútralais] Neutralizar. Hwag pakialaman. Never, adj. [néver] Nunca, jamás. Kahi't kaylanman, kaylan ma'y hwag. Nevertheless, adv. [neverdzilés] No obstante que, sin embargo. Gayon man. New, adj. [niú] Nuevo, reciente, fresco. Bago, baguhan, sariwà. New-born, n. [niú-born] Recien nacido. Bagong panganák. New-fashion, n. [niu-fésion] La última moda. Bagong moda. New-moon, n. [niú-mun] Luna nueva. Bagong bwan. News, n. [niús] Noticias, novedades. Balità. Newsmonger, n. [niúsmonguer] Novelero. Ang nagbibilí ng mga pahayagan at babasahín. Newspaper, n. [niúspeper] Gaceta, periódico. Páhayagan. Newt, n. [niút] Lagartija. Bubulí. Next, adj. [necst] Próximo, siguiente. Kasunod, súsunod, darating. Next, adv. [necst] Luego, inmediatamente, despues. Sakâ. Nib, n. [nib] Pico; punta, el extremo de cualquiera cosa. Tukâ; dulo. Nibble, v. [níbl] Picar. Tumukâ. Nice, adj. [náis] Gustoso, delicioso. Masarap, mainam. Nicety, n. [náisiti] Exactitud, delicadeza, esmero. Kaganapan, kainaman. Niche, n. [nich] Nicho. Nicho, líbingan. Nick, n. [nic] Punto crítico, tiempo preciso. Kagahulan. Nick, v. [nic] Llegar á tiempo. Umabot sa oras. Nickel, n. [níkel] Niquel. Nikel. Nickname, n. [nicnem] Apodo, mote. Palayaw. Nickname, v. [nicnem] Motejar, poner apodos. Magpalayaw. Niece, n. [niz] Sobrina. Pamangking babae. Niggard, n. [nígard] Tacaño, avaro, mezquino. Maramot, sakím. Niggardness, n. [nígardnes] Tacañería, ruindad. Karamutan, kasakimán. Nigh, adj. & prep. [nai] Cerca; cercano. Malapit. Night, n. [náit] Noche. Gabí. Nightfall, n. [náitfol] El anochecer. Paglubog ng araw. Night-gown, n. [náit-gaun] Bata que se usa de noche. Damit na pangtulog. Nightly, adj. [náitli] Nocturno. Panggabí. Nightly, adv. [náitli] Por las noches. Sa gabí; gabígabí. Nightmare, n. [náitmer] Pesadilla. Bangungot, panaginip, pangarap. Nimble, adj. [nimbl] Ligero, activo, ágil. Maliksí, masikap, masigla. Nimbleness, n. [nímblnes] Ligereza, destreza. Kaliksihan, kasiglahan. Nine, adj. & n. [náin] Nueve. Syam. Ninefold, adj. [náinfold] Nueve veces. Makasyam. Nineteen, adj. [náintin] Diez y nueve. Labing syam. Nineteenth, adj. [náintinz] Décimo nono. Ikalabing syam. Ninetieth, adj. [náintiez] Nonagésimo. Ika syam na pû. Ninety, adj. [náinti] Noventa. Syam na pû. Ninth, adj. [náinz] Nono, noveno. Ika syam. Ninthly, adv. [náinzli] En nono lugar. Sa ika syam. Nip, n. [nip] Pellizco, uñada. Kurot, kalmót. Nip, v. [nip] Pellizcar, rasguñar. Kumurot, mangalmot. Nippers, n. [nípers] Alicates, tenazas. Pang ipit. Nipple, n. [nípl] Pezón. Utóng (ng suso). Nit, n. [nit] Liendre, el huevo del piojo. Lisâ, itlog ng hanip ó ng kuto. No, adv. [no] No. Hindî, walâ, hwag. Nobility, n. [nobíliti] Nobleza, dignidad. Kabunyian, karangalan, karilagan. Noble, adj. [nobl] Noble, hidalgo. Bunyî, mahal, marangal, marilag. Nobleman, n. [nóblman] Noble. Taong marangal. Nobody, n. [nóbodi] Nadie, ninguna persona. Wala kahi't sino. Nocturnal, adj. [noctúrnal] Nocturno. Nauukol sa gabí. Nod, n. [nod] Cabeceo, reverencia, cualquiera señal hecha con la cabeza. Yukô, batì tangô, ilíng. Nod, v. [nod] Cabecear, hacer una señal con la cabeza. Yumukód, bumatì, tumangô, umilíng. Node, n. [nod] Nudo. Buhól. Nodule, n. [nódiul] Nudillo. Buhól. Noise, n. [nóis] Ruido, sonido, bulla, rumor. Ingay, kaingay, alingwngaw. Noise, v. [nóis] Divulgar alguna noticia. Magbansag ng anomang balità. Noiseless, adj. [nóisles] Tranquilo, callado. Tahimik. Noisiness, n. [nóisines] Estrépito, ruido, alboroto. Ingay, hugong, kaguló. Noisy, adj. [nóisi] Ruidoso, clamoroso, turbulento. Maingay, maalingaw-ngaw, mahugong, maguló. Nomad, adj. [nómad] Errante. Pagalagalà, walang táhanan. Nominal, adj. [nóminal] Nominal. Nauukol sa pangalan. Nominate, v. [nóminet] Nombrar, eligir. Máhalal, pumilì, humirang. Nomination, n. [nominécion] Nombramiento, nominacion. Paghahalal. Nonage, n. [nónedch] Minoridad, menor edad. Kabataan, kakulangan sa gulang. Non-attendance, n. [non-aténdans] Falta de asistencia. Kakulangán sa pagdaló. Nondescript, adj. [nóndiscript] Lo que no está descrito. Dî masayod. None, adj. [non] Nadie, ninguno. Walâ. Nonentity, n. [nonéntiti] Nada, falta de existencia. Kawalán, kasalatán. Non-existance, n. [non-ecsístans] Nada, falta de existencia. Kawalán, kasalatan. Nonpayment, n. [nónpéyment] Falta de pago. Kakulangan sa bayad. Nonsense, n. [nónsens] Disparate, impertinencia. Kabalastugan. Nonsensical, adj. [nonsénsical] Absurdo, impertinente. Dî maaaring mangyari, maulit. Noodle, n. [núdl] Simplon, mentecato. Hangal, tangá, gunggong. Nook, n. [nuk] Rincon, ángulo. Sulok. Noon, n. [nun] Medio día. Katanghalian, á las dose ng araw. Noonday, n. [núndey] Medio día. Katanghalian, á las dose ng araw. Nooning, n. [núning] Siesta. Tulog sa tanghalì. Noontide, n. [núntaid] Tiempo del medio-día. Katanghalian. Noose, n. [nus] Lazo corredizo. Silò. Noose, v. [nus] Enlazar, entrampar. Sumilò. Nor, conj. [nor] Ni. Kahì, maging, ni ó ... man. Normal, adj. [nórmal] Normal. Karaniwan, kahusayan. Normal-school, n. [normal-skúl] Escuela Normal. Escuela Normal, páaralan ng pagtuturò. North, adj. & n. [norz] Norte. Hilagà, hilagaan. Northern, adj. [nórzern] Septentrional. Hilagà. Northeast, n. [nórzist] Nordeste. Habagat. Northward, adv. [nórzuard] Hácia el norte. Sa dakong hilagaan. Nose, n. [nos] Nariz. Ilong. Noseless, adj. [nósles] Desnarigado. Ngongò. Nostril, n. [nóstril] Ventana de la nariz. Butas ng ilong. Not, adv. [not] No. Hindî, walâ. Notable, adj. [nótabl] Notable, memorable. Halatâ, litáw, bantog. Notably, adv. [nótabli] Notablemente. Halatâ. Notary, n. [nótari] Notario. Notaryo. Notch, n. [notch] Muesta. Bingaw, ukit. Notch, v. [notch] Hacer muescas. Bumingaw. Note, n. [not] Nota, marca, señal; esquela, billete. Kapintasan, tandâ, bakat; sulat. Note, v. [not] Notar, marcar, distinguir. Tandaan, bakatan. Note-book, n. [nót-buk] Libro de apuntes. Aklat na tálaan. Noted, adj. [nóted] Afamado, célebre, insigne. Bantog, bunyî, magiting. Noteworthy, adj. [nótuerzi] Notable, digno de nota. Kapuripuri, marapat purihin. Nothing, n. [nózing] Nada, ninguna cosa. Walâ, walang anomang bagay. Notice, n. [nótis] Noticia, nota, reparo, observacion. Balità, halatâ, puná, malas, masíd, pahayag. Notice, v. [nótis] Notar, observar, mirar. Humalatâ, pumuná, pumansin. Noticeable, adj. [nótisabl] Notable, reparable. Náhahalatâ, nápupuna, napapansin. Notification, n. [notifikécion] Notificacion. Patalastas ng húkúman. Notify, v. [nótifai] Notificar. Ipatalastas, ipahayag, tawagin sa húkúman. Notion, n. [nócion] Nocion, parecer. Akalà, warì, hakà. Notoriety, n. [notoráiti] Notoriedad. Kabantugan, kagitingan. Notorious, adv. [notórioes] Notorio, público. Halatâ, hayag, tanyag. Notwithstanding, adv. [notuizténding] No obstante, sin embargo. Gayon man. Nought, n. [not] Nada. Walâ. Noun, n. [náun] Nombre. Pangalan, pamagat. Nourish, v. [nérish] Nutrir, alimentar. Pakanin, kandiliin. Nourishment, n. [nérishment] Nutrimento, alimento. Pagkain, kandilì. Novel, n. [nóvel] Novela. Nobela, babasahín. Novelty, n. [nóvelti] Novedad. Ang bagong bagay ó ang bagong hayag. November, n. [novémber] Noviembre. Nobyembre. Novice, n. [nóvis] Novicio. Baguhan. Now, adv. [naw] Ahora. Ngayon. Nowadays, adv. [náuades] En nuestros dias, hoy dia. Sa mga kaarawán natin, ngayon. Now and then, adv. [nau end dzen] De cuando en cuando, de vez en cuando. Maminsanminsan, manakânakâ. Noway, adv. [nówe] De ningun modo. Kahi't sa anomang paraan. Noways = noway. Nowhere, adv. [nójwer] En ninguna parte. Kaki't saan man. Noxious, adj. [nóccioes] Nocivo, dañoso. Nakasasamâ, nakasisirà. Nozzle, n. [nozl] Nariz de un animal. Ngusò. Nucleus, n. [niúclioes] Núcleo. Bálok, tipunán. Nude, n. [niúd] Desnudo. Hubád, hubô. Nudge, v. [nudch] Dar del codo á uno para avisarle secretamente. Sikuhin ng lihim upang masabi ang ibig sabihin ng walang makaalam. Nudity, n. [niúditi] Desnudo. Kahubaran. Nugatory, n. [niúguetori] Nugatorio, futil, frívolo. Walang kabuluhan. Nuisance, n. [niúsans] Indecencia, porquería. Kasalaulaan, kababuyan. Null, adj. [nal] Nulo, inválido. Walang kapararakan. Nullify, v. [núlifai] Anular, abrogar. Pawalán ng halagá, pawalán ng kabuluhan. Nullity, n. [núliti] Nulidad. Kawalán ng kapararakan. Numb, adj. [namb] Entorpecido. Manhíd, namamanhid. Numb, v. [namb] Entorpecer. Mamanhíd. Number, n. [námber] Número, cantidad. Bilang, número. Number, v. [námber] Numerar, contar. Bumilang. Numberless, adj. [námberles] Innumerable. Walang bilang. Numbness, n. [námbnes] Torpor, adormecimiento. Pamamanhíd. Numeral, adj. [niúmeral] Numeral. Nauukol sa bilang. Numerate, v. [niúmeret] Numerar, contar. Bumilang, bilangin. Numeration, n. [niumerécion] Numeracion. Pagbilang, bilang. Numeric, adj. [niuméric] Numérico. Nauukol sa bilang. Numerical = numeric. Numerous, adj. [niúmeres] Numeroso. Marami, makakal. Numismatics, n. [niumismátics] Numismática. Karunungan sa mga salapi't medalya. Numskull, n. [námskal] Zote. Hangal, tanga, ungas. Nun, n. [nan] Monja. Mongha. Nunnery, n. [náneri] Convento de monjas. Bahay ng mga mongha. Nuptial, adj. [núpcial] Nupcial, lo que pertenece á las bodas. Nauukol sa kasal ó pagaasawa. Nuptials, n. [núpcials] Nupcias, boda. Kasal, pag-aasawa. Nurse, n. [nars] Ama de cria, enfermera. Yaya, tagapag-alagà ng may-sakít. Nurse, v. [nars] Criar criaturas, cuidar enfermos. Mag-iwî ng batà, mag-alagà ng may-sakít. Nursery, n. [nárseri] Crianza. Pag-iiwî, pag-aalagà. Nursling, n. [nársling] Niño criado. Sanggol. Nurture, n. [nárchur] Educacion. Pag-iiwî, pag-aalagà. Nurture, v. [nárchur] Criar, enseñar. Mag-iwî, mag-alagà. Nut, n. [nat] Nuez. Pilì. Nutcrackers, n. [nátcrakers] Cascanueces. Pangtalop ng pilì. Nutmeg, n. [nátmeg] Nuez moscada. Nues moskada. Nutriment, n. [niútriment] Nutrimento, alimento. Pagkain, pangbusog. Nutritious, adj. [niútricioes] Nutritivo. Nakabubusog. Nutshell, n. [nátshel] Cáscara de nuez. Balat ng pilì. Nymph, n. [nimf] Ninfa, mujer hermosa. Nimpa; babaing magandá. O O, [o] O (o). O (o) Oaf, n. [of] Idiota, zoquete. Musmós, ungas. Oar, n. [or] Remo. Gaod, sagwán. Oar, v. [or] Remar, bogar. Gumaod, sumagwán. Oarsman, n. [órzman] Remero. Manggagaod, mánanagwan. Oasis, n. [óasis] Oasis. Oasis, dakong may mga punong kahoy sa isang iláng. Oath, n. [oz] Juramento. Sumpâ. Obduracy, n. [óbdiuresi] Endurecimiento, obstinacion. Tigas ng ulo, katigasan ng ulo. Obdurate, adj. [óbdiuret] Endurecido. Matigas ang ulo. Obdurateness, n. [óbdiuretnes] Endurecimiento. Katigasan ng ulo. Obedience, n. [obídiens] Obediencia, sumision. Pagsunod, pagtalima. Obedient, adj. [obídient] Obediente, sumiso. Masúnurin, mapagtalima. Obeisance, n. [obésans] Cortesía, reverencia. Pitagan, galang. Obese, adj. [obís] Obeso, gordo. Matabâ. Obeseness, n. [obísnes] Obesidad, crasitud. Tabâ. Obesity = obeseness. Obey, v. [obeí] Obedecer. Sumunod, tumalima. Obfuscate, v. [obfiúsket] Obscurecer. Magdilím. Obit, n. [óbit] Exequias. Libíng; mga pagdaraos na isinasagawâ hinggil sa isang namatay. Obituary, n. [obítiueri] Obituario, necrología. Balità tungkol sa pagkamatay ng sinoman. Object, n. [óbdchect] Objeto. Bagay; adhikâ, layon, pakay, tungo. Object, v. [óbdchect] Objetar. Tumutol, sumalangsang, sumalungat. Objection, n. [obdehéccion] Objecion, réplica. Tutol, salangsang, salungat. Objectionable, adj. [obdchéccionabl] Reparable, capaz de objecion. May kapintasan. Objective, adj. [obdchéctiv] Objetivo. Tungo, layon, dahilán. Oblate, adj. [óblet] Chato por los polos. Chapát, pulpol, pudpod. Oblation, n. [oblécion] Oblacion. Alay. Obligation, n. [obliguécion] Obligacion. Katungkulan, tungkulin. Obligatory, adj. [óbliguetori] Obligatorio. Sápilitan. Oblige, v. [obláidch] Obligar; complacer, agradar. Pumilit; magbigay loob. Obliging, adj. [obláidching] Servicial, cortesano. Mapaglingkod, masúnurin, magalang. Oblique, adj. [oblíc] Oblicuo. Pahiwíd, pahapáy. Obliquity, n. [oblícuiti] Oblicuidad. Pagkahiwíd, pagkahapay. Obliterate, v. [oblíteret] Borrar. Kumatkat. Oblivion, n. [oblívion] Olvido. Limot. Oblivious, adj. [oblívias] Olvidadizo. Malilimutín. Oblong, adj. [óblong] Oblongo. Talohabâ. Obloquious, adj. [oblócuioes] Injurioso, deshonroso. Kadustâdustâ, kahalayhalay. Obloquy, n. [oblócui] Infamia, deshonra. Kadustaan, kasiraang puri. Obnoxious, adj. [obuóccioes] Peligroso, dañoso. Mapanganib, nakákapahamak. Oboe, n. [óbo] Oboé. Oboy. Obscene, adj. [obsín] Obsceno, impúdico. Mahalay, malibog. Obscenity, n. [obséniti] Obscenidad. Kahalayan, kalibugan. Obscuration, n. [obskiurécion] Oscurecimiento. Dilim, kadiliman; labò; kalabuan. Obscure, adj. [obskiúr] Obscuro. Madilim, malabò. Obscure, v. [obskiúr] Obscurecer. Padilimín, palabuin. Obscurity, n. [obskiúriti] Obscuridad. Kadiliman, kalabuan. Obsequies, n. [óbsecuiz] Exequias, honras funerales. Pagdiriwan sa paglilibíng. Obsequious, adj. [obsícuioez] Obsequioso. Mapagkaloob, mapaglingkod. Observable, adj. [obsérvabl] Notable, conspicuo. Halatâ, tanyag. Observance, n. [obsérvans] Observancia, atencion, respeto. Pagtupad, pagganap, galang. Observant, adj. [obsérvant] Observante, atento, respetuoso. Tumutupad, gumaganap, magalang. Observation, n. [observécion] Observacion, nota ó reparo crítico. Puná, pansín, masíd, malas. Observatory, n. [obsérvetori] Observatorio. Obserbatoryo, umaalám at nagpapaalám ng panahon. Observe, v. [obsérv] Observar, notar, reparar. Magmalas, magmasid; sumubok; tikman. Observer, n. [obsérver] Observador. Mapagmalas, mapagmasid. Observing, adj. [obsérving] Atento, cuidadoso. Maingat. Obsolete, adj. [óbsolit] Obsoleto, anticuado. Lipás, lumà. Obstacle, n. [óbstacl] Obstáculo, embarazo. Kapansanan, hadláng. Obstinacy, n. [óbstinesi] Obstinacion. Katigasan ng ulo. Obstinate, adj. [óbstinet] Obstinado, tenaz. Matigas ang ulo. Obstreperous, adj. [obstréperoes] Estrepitoso, ruidoso. Mahugong, maingay. Obstruct, v. [obstráct] Obstruir, impedir, retardar. Gumambalà, umabala, pumigil, humadlang. Obstruction, n. [obstráccion] Obstruccion, estorbo, obstáculo, dificultad. Gambalà, abala, pagpigil, hadlang, kapansanan. Obstructive, adj. [obstráctiv] Obstructivo. Nakagagambalà, nakapipinsalâ. Obtain, v. [obtén] Obtener, adquirir, alcanzar, lograr. Magtamó, magkamít, magtaglay, magkaroon. Obtainable, adj. [obténabl] Asequible. Matataglay, makakamít. Obtrude, v. [obtriúd] Introducir con violencia. Magpumilít na pumasok. Obtrusion, n. [obtriúcion] Intrusion, entremetimiento. Panghihimasok. Obtrusive, adj. [obtriúsiv] Intruso, entremetido. Mapanghimasok. Obtuse, adj. [obtiús] Obtuso, romo, sin punta. Mapurol, pulpol, salsal, pudpod. Obviate, v. [óbviet] Obviar, evitar inconvenientes. Umiwas (sa kapansanan). Obvious, adj. [óbvias] Obvio, evidente. Malinaw, maliwanag. Occasion, n. [okésion] Ocasion, casualidad, sazon, tiempo oportuno. Pagkakataon, panahon, dahilan. Occasional, adj. [okésional] Ocasional, casual. Nápataon, nagkataon. Occident, n. [ócsident] Occidente. Kanluran, kalunuran. Occidental, adj. [ocsidental] Occidental. Nauukol sa kanluran. Occiput, n. [ócsipat] Colodrillo. Kaimotan, likod ng ulo. Occult, adj. [okált] Oculto, escondido. Lingíd, tagô, kublí. Occupant, n. [ókiupant] Ocupador, ocupante. Ang nagmamay-arî, ang nápapanahon. Occupation, n. [okiupécion] Ocupacion, trabajo, oficio, empleo. Pagkabuhay, gáwain, hanap-buhay. Occupy, v. [ókiupai] Ocupar, emplear. Gumamit, magtalagá. Occur, v. [occár] Ocurrir. Mangyari, magkátaon. Occurrence, n. [okárrens] Ocurrencia, incidente, suceso casual. Pangyayari, pagkakataon. Ocean, n. [ócean] Oceano. Dagat. Oceanic, adj. [ociánic] Oceánico. Nauukol sa dagat. Ocellated, adj. [oséleted] Lo que tiene ojos. May matá. Octagon, n. [óctagon] Octágono. Bagay na may walong pánulukan. Octagonal, adj. [octágonal] Octagonal. Nauukol sa may walong pánulukan. Octangular, adj. [octánguiular] Octangular. May walong pánulukan. Octennial, adj. [octénial] Lo que dura ocho años. Nagwawalong taon, nagtatagal ng walong taon. October, n. [octóber] Octubre. Oktubre. Octuple, adj. [óctiupl] Octuplo. Makawalo. Ocular, adj. [ókiular] Ocular. Nauukol sa matá. Oculist, n. [ókiulist] Oculista. Manggagamot ng mga sakít sa matá. Odd, adj. [od] Impar; particular, extravagante. Gansal, kaibâ, katwâ. Oddity, n. [óditi] Singularidad, rareza. Kaibhan. Oddness, n. [ódnes] Disparidad, desigualdad. Kaibhan. Odds = oddness. Ode, n. [od] Oda. Isang urì ng tuláng awitín. Odious, adj. [odioes] Odioso, aborrecible. Mapagtanim, magagalitín. Odium, n. [ódium] Odiosidad, odio. Pagtatanim sa kalooban. Odor, n. [ódor] Olor, fragrancia. Amoy, bangó, salimuyak. Odoriferous, adj. [odoríferoes] Oloroso, fragrante. Mabango. Odorous, adj. [ódoroes] Oloroso, fragrante. Mabango. Of, prep. [of] De, tocante. Ng, sa, ni, kay. Off, adv. & prep. [of] Lejos, á distancia. Malayò. Off, int. [of] Fuera!. Alís! layás! Offal, n. [ófal] Sobras, desecho. Labis, patapón. Offence, n. [oféns] Ofensa, injuria. Pasláng, lait, alipustâ. Offend, v. [ofénd] Ofender, provocar, injuriar. Manggalit, mamaslang, umalipustâ. Offensive, adj. [ofénsiv] Ofensivo, injurioso. Nakagagalit, lapastangan. Offer, n. [ófer] Oferta; propuesta. Handog, palagáy. Offer, v. [ófer] Ofrecer. Maghandog. Offering, n. [ófering] Oferta. Handog. Office, n. [ófis] Oficina. Opisina, káwanihan. Officer, n. [óficer] Oficial; empleado. Pinunò; kawaní. Official, adj. [ofísial] Oficial, lo que pertenece á algun cargo ó empleo público. Opisyal, may kinalaman sa káwanihang bayan. Official, n. [ofísial] Oficial. Punò. Officiate, v. [ofíciet] Hacer alguna cosa de oficio; oficiar, celebrar la misa. Mamunò; magmisa. Officious, adj. [ofícioes] Oficioso. Masipag, masikap. Officiousness, n. [ofíciesnes] Oficiosidad. Kasipagan, sikap. Offing, n. [ófing] Pleamar. Laot. Offset, n. [ófset] Pimpollo. Usbong, talbós. Offspring, n. [ófspring] Prole, linaje, descendencia. Angkan, lahì, lipì, inapó. Oft, adv. [oft] Muchas veces, con frecuencia. Madalás. Often, adv. [ofn] Muchas veces, con frecuencia. Madalás. Oftentimes, adv. [ófntaims] Muchas veces, con frecuencia. Madalás. Ogle, n. [ógl] Guiñada; ojeada. Kindát; sulyap. Ogle, v. [ógl] Guiñar; mirar al soslayo. Kumindat; sumulyap. Oh, int. [o] ¡Oh!. Abá! Oil, n. [óil] Aceite. Langis. Oil-cloth, n. [óil-cloz] Hule. Ule. Oilman, n. [óilman] Aceitero. Maglalangís. Oily, adj. [óili] Aceitoso, oleoso. Malangís. Ointment, n. [óintment] Ungüento. Langís na mabangó. Old, adj. [old] Viejo, anciano, antiguo. Matandâ, magulang, dati, lumà, laón. Olden, adj. [ólden] Viejo, anciano, antiguo. Matandâ, magulang, dati, lumà. Oldish, adj. [óldish] Algo viejo ó anciano. May katandaan, may kagulangan. Oldness, n. [óldnes] Vejez, ancianidad. Katandaan, kagulangan. Oleaster, n. [óleaster] Olivo silvestre. Punò ng olibo. Olfactory, adj. [olfáctori] Olfatorio. Nauukol sa amoy. Olive, n. [óliv] Olivo. Olibo. Omelet, n. [ómilet] Tortilla de huevos. Tinortang itlog. Omen, n. [ómen] Agüero, presagio. Pámahiin, pángitain. Ominous, adj. [óminoes] Ominoso, siniestro, fatal. Masamang pángitain. Omission, n. [omísion] Omision. Laktaw. Omit, v. [omit] Omitir. Lumigtâ; ligtaan; lumaktaw; laktawan. Omnipotence, n. [omnípotens] Omnipotencia. Kapangyarihan sa lahat. Omnipotent, adj. [omnípotent] Omnipotente. Makapangyarihan sa lahat. Omniscience, n. [omníciens] Omniciencia. Karunungan sa lahat. Omniscient, adj. [omnícient] Omniscio. Marunong sa lahat. On, prep. [on] Sobre, encima. Sa, sa ibabaw. Once, adv. [uans] Una vez. Minsan. One, adj. [uan] Un, uno, una. Isa. Onerous, adj. [ónerous] Oneroso, molesto. Mabigat, mahirap, nakagagambalà. Onion, n. [ónion] Cebollas. Sibuyas. Only, adj. [ónli] Único. Bugtong, tangì, bukod-tangì. Only, adv. [ónli] Únicamente, solamente. Lamang. Onset, n. [ónset] Primer ímpetu. Bugsô; daluhong. Onslaught = onset. Onward, adj. [ónuard] Avanzado, adelantado. Masulong, nangunguna. Onward, adv. [ónuard] Adelante. Sa gawíng harap, sulong, tuloy, páuna. Ooze, n. [uz] Fango, limo, cieno. Banlik, burak. Ooze, v. [uz] Manar ó correr algun líquido suavemente. Sumaloy, kumalat. Opacity, n. [opásiti] Opacidad. Kalabuan, kadiliman. Opal, n. [ópal] Ópalo. Ópalo, batong mahalagá. Opaque, adj. [opéc] Opaco. Malabò, malamlam. Open, adj. [ópn] Abierto. Bukás, walang takíp, walang tungtóng. Open, v. [ópn] Abrir, destapar. Magbukás, alisan ng takíp, alisán ng tungtong. Opera, n. [ópera] Ópera. Ópera. Operate, v. [óperet] Obrar, operar. Gumawâ, masagawâ. Operation, n [operécion] Operacion. Paggawâ, pagsasagawâ; pagbusbos. Operative, adj. [óperetiv] Operativo. Nauukol sa paggawâ. Operator, n. [óperetor] Operador. Tagagawâ; tagabusbós. Opiate, n. [ópiet] Opiata. Gamot na may halong apyan. Opine, v. [opáin] Opinar, juzgar. Mag-akalà, humatol. Opinion, n. [opínion] Opinion, dictamen. Hakà, akalà, warì. Opium, n. [ópiam] Opio. Apyan. Opponent, adj. [opónent] Opuesto, contrario. Kalaban, katalo. Opponent, n. [opónent] Antagonista, arguyente. Kalaban, nakikipagtalo. Opportune, adj. [oportiún] Oportuno, conveniente. Pagkakataon, marapat. Opportunity, n. [oportiúniti] Oportunidad, sazon. Pagkakataon, panahon, kapanahunan. Oppose, v. [opós] Oponer (se). Tumutol, sumalungat, sumalangsang, lumaban. Opposite, adj. [óposit] Opuesto, adverso, contrario; fronterizo, en frente. Kalaban, kasalungát, salangsang; katapát. Opposition, n. [opozícion] Oposicion, contrariedad. Tutol, salangsang, paglaban. Oppress, v. [oprés] Oprimir, apretar. Pumighatì, magpahirap, sumakal, uminís. Oppression, n. [oprésion] Opresion, vejacion. Pighatì, pahirap, inís. Oppressive, adj. [oprésiv] Opresivo, cruel. Nakapipighatì, nakapagsisikip ng loob, mahirap. Oppressor, n. [oprésor] Opresor. Mámimighatì, mapagpahirap, mabagsik, tampalasan. Opprobrious, adj. [opróbrias] Oprobioso, ignominioso. Kakutyâkutyâ, kahalay-halay. Optic, adj. [óptic] Óptico. Nauukol sa paningín ó matá. Optical = optic. Optician, n. [optícian] Óptico. Manglilitis ng paningín. Optimist, n. [óptimist] Optimista. Ang mapaghakang anomang nangyayari ay mabuti. Option, n. [ópcion] Opción. Sariling hakà. Opulence, n. [ópiulens] Opulencia, riqueza. Yaman, kayamanan. Opulency = opulence. Opulent, adj. [ópiulent] Opulento. Mayaman. Or, conj. [or] Ó. Ó, kung. Oracle, n. [óracl] Oráculo. Sanggunian. Oral, adj. [óral] Oral, verbal. Sa salitâ. Orange, n. [órendch] Naranja. Suhà, dalandan, naranhita. Orange-color, adj. [órendch-color] Color de naranja. Kulay-suhà. Orang-outang, n. [oráng-utáng] Orangután. Bakulaw, musang, malakíng unggoy. Oration, n. [orécion] Oracion. Dalangin, pangungusap. Orator, n. [óretor] Orador. Mánanalumpatî. Oratory, n. [óratori] Oratoria. Pananalumpatì, pananalitâ. Orb, n. [orb] Orbe, esfera, globo. Bilog, sangsinukob, globo. Orbed, adj. [orbd] Orbicular, redondo. Mabilog. Orbit, n. [órbit] Órbita; la cuenca del ojo. Lakad ng talà, bituin, araw, at bwan; ukà ng matá. Orchard, n. [órchard] Huerto, verjel. Halamanan. Orchestra, n. [órkestra] Orquesta. Orkesta. Ordain, v. [ordén] Ordenar, establecer, arreglar. Mag-ayos, maghusay, magpasiya, mag-utos. Order, n. [órder] Orden, mandato; regla. Utos; ayos, husay. Order, v. [órder] Ordenar, disponer; arreglar. Mag-utos, magpasya; umayos, maghusay. Orderly, adj. [órderli] Ordenado, bien arreglado. Maayos, mahusay. Ordinal, adj. [órdinal] Ordinal. Nauukol sa ayos ó husay. Ordinance, n. [órdinans] Ordenanza, estatuto. Utos, tuntunin. Ordinary, adj. [órdineri] Ordinario, comun, regular. Karaniwan. Ordination, n. [ordinécion] Ordenacion, disposicion; el acto de conferir orden sacerdotal. Utos, pasiya; pag-oorden sa parì. Ordnance, n. [órdnans] Artillería. Kasangkapan ng kawal. Ore, n. [or] Quijo, mineral. Isang urì ng batong matigas. Organ, n. [órgan] Órgano. Órgano, [parang piano]. Organic, adj. [orgánic] Orgánico. Nauukol sa órgano. Organical = organic. Organist, n. [órganist] Organista. Tagatugtog ng órgano. Organization, n. [organizécion] Organizacion. Pagtatatag. Organize, v. [órganaiz] Organizar. Magtatag. Orient, adj. & n. [órient] Oriental, oriente. Silanganan. Oriental, adj. [oriéntal] Oriental. Silanganan. Oriental, n. [oriéntal] Oriental. Taga silanganan. Orifice, n. [órifis] Orificio. Butas. Origin, n. [óridchin] Origen, principio. Sanghî, pinagmulan, simulâ. Original, adj. [orídchinal] Original, primitivo. Una, pinagsalinan, pinagparisan. Origination, n. [oridchinécion] Origen. Simulâ, pinagmulan, pinagbuhatan. Orison, n. [órison] Oracion, súplica. Dasal, panalangin. Ornament, n. [órnament] Ornamento, adorno. Gayak, palamuti, kagayakan, hiyas. Ornament, v. [órnament] Ornamentar, adornar. Maggayak, magpalamuti; hiyasan. Ornamental, adj. [ornaméntal] Lo que sirve de adorno. Panggayak, pangpalamuti. Ornate, adj. [órnet] Adornado, ataviado. Nagagayakan, napapalamutihan. Orphan, adj. & n. [órfan] Huérfano. Ulila. Orphanage, n. [órfanedch] Orfandad. Pagkaulila, pangungulila. Orthography, n. [orzógrafi] Ortografía. Karunungan sa pagsulat. Orthology, n. [orzólodchi] Ortología. Karunungan ng mabuting pamimigkas ng salitâ. Oscillate, v. [ósilet] Oscilar, vibrar. Magningning, kumintab. Oscillation, n. [osilécion] Oscilacion. Ningning, kislap, kintab. Ossification, n. [osifikécion] Osificacion. Pagigíng-butó ng anoman. Ossify, v. [ósifai] Osificar. Magíng butó. Ostensible, adj. [osténsibl] Ostensible, manifestable. Náihahayag, náipakikita. Ostent, n. [ostént] Apariencia. Anyô, hichura. Ostentation, n. [ostentécion] Ostentacion, gala. Pagpaparangalan, pagpaparanyâ, garà. Ostentatious, adj. [ostentécioes] Ostentoso, jactancioso. Mapagparanyâ, magarà, hambog. Ostler, n. [óstler] Mozo de paja. Sota, tagapagalagà ng kabayo. Ostrich, n. [óstrich] Avestruz. Abestrús. Other, pron. [ódzer] Otro. Iba. Otherwise, adv. [ódzeruais] De otra manera, por otra parte. Kung dilî, ó kayâ. Ottoman, adj. [ótoman] Otomano. Nauukol sa mga turko. Ought, v. [ot] Deber, ser menester. Dapat, marapat. Ounce, n. [áunz] Onza. Onsa (salapî). Our, pron. [áuar] Nuestro, a, os, as. Atin, natin, amin, namin. Ours, pron. [áuars] Nuestro, a, os, as. Atin, natin, amin, namin. Ourselves, pron. [auarsélvz] Nosotros mismos. Kami rin, kami ngâ; amin ngâ. Oust, v. [áust] Quitar, desposeer, echar fuera. Alisin, alisan, paalisin. Out, adv. [áut] Fuera, afuera. Sa labas. Outbid, v. [autbíd] Pujar; sobrepujar. Tumawad ng lalong mataas na halaga, magpataas ng tawad. Outbreak, n. [áutbrik] Erupcion. Silakbó, sigalbó. Outburst, n. [áutbarst] Explosion. Pagputok. Outcast, n. [áutcast] Desechado, desterrado. Tapon. Outcry, n. [áutcray] Clamor, ruido, alboroto, gritería. Alingawngaw, ingay, kagulo, hiyawan. Outdo, v. [autdú] Exceder á otro, sobrepujar. Lumagpas, lumangpas. Outer, adj. [áuter] Exterior. Labas. Outermost, adj. [áutormost] Extremo, lo mas exterior. Kálabaslabasan. Outfit, n. [áutfit] Vestidos, ropa. Mga kasuntan, damít. Outgo, v. [autgó] Exceder, adelantarse. Lumangpas, máuna. Outgoing, n. [áutgoing] Salida. Lábasan. Outgrow, v. [áutgro] Sobrecrecer. Tumaas ng higít sa iba. Outhouse, n. [áutjaus] Dependencia de una casa. Táhanang bukod na karatig ng bahay. Outlandish, adj. [áutlandish] Extranjero. Nauukol sa ibang lupain. Outlast, v. [áutlast] Durar mas que otra cosa. Tumagal kaysa iba. Outlaw, n. [áutlo] Proscrito, bandido. Tulisán, manghaharang. Outlawry, n. [áutlori] Proscripcion. Panunulisan. Outlay, n. [áutle] Despensa, gastos. Gugol. Outlet, n. [áutlet] Salida. Lábasan. Outline, n. [áutlain] Contorno, diseño, bosquejo. Banhay, anyô, plano. Outlive, v. [áutliv] Sobrevivir. Mabuhay pa. Outlook, n. [áutluk] Vigilancia, prevision. Ingat, agap, tanaw. Outlying, adj. [áutlaying] Distante de, lejos de. Malayò sa. Outnumber, v. [autnámber] Exceder en número. Lumabis sa bilang. Out of doors, n. [aut-of-dors] Fuera de casa. Labas ng bahay. Outpost, n. [áutpost] Puesto avanzado. Bantay na nasa malayò. Outrage, n. [áutredch] Ultraje, afrenta, violencia. Kadustaan, kapalíbhasaan, kalapastanganan. Outrage, v. [áutredch] Ultrajar. Dumustâ, lumapastangan. Outrageous, adj. [autrédches] Ultrajoso. Kadustâdustâ, lapastangan. Outride, v. [autráid] Ganar la delantera á caballo. Máuna, isa pátulinan ng pangangabayo. Outright, adv. [autráit] Luego; complidamente. Sakâ. Outrun, v. [autrán] Correr mas que otro, ganar, exceder. Máuna sa takbuhan. Outsail, v. [autsél] Navegar mas que otra embarcacion. Máuna sa paglalayág. Outset, n. [áutset] Principio. Simulâ, pasimulâ. Outside, n. [autsáid] Superficie, exterior. Ibabaw, labás. Outskirt, n. [áutskirt] Parte exterior. Dakong labas. Outspread, v. [áutspred] Extender, difundir. Palaganapin. Outstrip, v. [autstríp] Avanzar mas que otro, rezagar, sobrepujar. Máuna. Outward, adj. [áutuard] Exterior, visible. Labás, kita. Outwear, v. [autwír] Durar mas tiempo. Tumagal ng higít kaysa iba. Outweigh, v. [autwé] Preponderar, pesar mas. Bumigat ng higít kaysa iba. Outwit, v. [autwít] Engañar á uno á fuerza de tretas. Manalo sa pamamagitan ng laláng. Oval, n. [óval] Óvalo. Talohahà. Ovate, adj. [óvet] Formado como huevo. Parang itlog. Ovated = ovate. Ovation, n. [ovécion] Ovacion. Papuri. Oven, n. [óvn] Horno. Hurnó. Over, prep. [óver] Sobre, emcima. Sa ibabaw. Overawe, n. [overó] Intimidar. Tumakot. Overbalance, n. [overbálans] Preponderancia. Bigat ng timbáng. Overbalance, v. [overbálans] Preponderar. Humigít (sa timbang). Overbear, v. [overbír] Dominar, sujetar. Sumupil, manaig. Overbearing, n. [overbíring] Ultrajoso, despótico. Mapag-alipustâ, mabaksik. Overboard, adj. [óverbord] A la mar, fuera del navio. Sa tubig. Overcast, v. [overcást] Oscurecer. Palabuin. Overcoat, n. [overcót] Sobretodo, capote. Kapote. Overcome, v. [overcám] Vencer, superar. Manalo, manaig, sumupil. Overdo, v. [overdú] Hacer mas de lo necesario. Gumawâ ng higit kaysa nararapat. Overdone, p.p. [óverdan] Rendido, cansado. Patâ, pagód. Overdue, adj. [overdiú] Lo que ha pasado del tiempo debido. Lampás sa panahon. Overflow, n. [óverflo] Inundacion. Bahâ, apaw na tubig. Overflow, v. [óverflo] Inundar, rebosar. Bumahâ, umapaw. Overgrow, v. [overgró] Crecer demasiado. Lumagóng lubhâ. Overhang, v. [overjéng] Salir algo fuera del nivel de algun edificio; mirar á, caer á. Ilaylay, isampay; dumungaw, dumukwang. Overhaul, v. [overjól] Desparramar alguna cosa; registrar, examinar. Magladlad, sumaliksik, lumitis. Overhead, adj. [overjéd] Encima, arriba, en lo alto. Sa itaas. Overhear, v. [overjír] Entreoir. Makáulinig. Overjoy, n. [óverdchoy] Arrebato de alegría, éxtasis. Galak, kagalakan. Overlay, v. [overlé] Abrumar. Gumambalà. Overlook, v. [overlúc] Mirar desde lo alto; pasar por alto. Tumungó; tunghan; paraanin, hwag alintanahin. Overpass, v. [overpás] Pasar por alto. Palagpasin, hwag alumanahin. Overpower, v. [over-pauer] Predominar, oprimir. Manaig, mamighatì. Over-reach, v. [over-rích] Sobresalir, engañar. Lumagpas, dumayà. Over-rule, v. [over-riúl] Predominar. Manaig, mamunò. Oversee, v. [oversí] Inspeccionar. Mangalagà, sumiyasat. Overseer, n. [oversír] Superintendente, sobrestante. Tagapamahalà, tagabantay. Overset, v. [oversét] Volcar, trastornar. Itaob; ibwal, guluhin. Overshoe, n. [óversio] Galocha. Sapatos na pang-ibabaw. Overshoot, v. [oversiút] Pasar de raya. Lumisyâ, dî tumamâ. Oversight, n. [óversait] Yerro, equivocacion. Kamalian, malî. Overspread, v. [overspred] Desparramar. Mangalat, lumaganap. Overstep, v. [overstép] Pasar más allá. Laktawán. Overt, adj. [óvert] Abierto, público. Hayag, litaw. Overtake, v. [overték] Alcanzar. Abutan, abutin. Overthrow, v. [overzró] Trastornar, demoler, destruir. Guluhín, sirain. Overture, n. [óvertiur] Abertura. Butas. Overturn, v. [overtárn] Subvertir, volver al revés. Bumalikwas; baligtarín. Overween, v. [overuín] Presumir, vanagloriarse. Maghambog, magparangâ. Overweight, n. [óverueit] Exceso en el peso. Kalabisan sa timbang. Overwhelm, v. [overjuélm] Abrumar, oprimir. Sumupil, manaig. Overwork, n. [overuerk] Exceso de trabajo. Kalabisan sa paggawâ. Owe, v. [o] Deber, tener deudas. Umutang, magkautang. Owl, n. [ául] Lechuza. Kwago. Owlish, adj. [áulish] Semejante á la lechuza. Parang kwago. Own, adj. [on] Propio. Sarili. Own, v. [on] Poseer, ser dueño de alguna cosa. Umarì, mag-may-arî. Owner, n. [óner] Dueño, poseedor, propietario. May-arì. Ownership, n. [ónership] Dominio. Pagka-may-arì. Ox, n. [ocs] Buey. Toro, baka. Ox-fly, n. [ócs-flai] Tábano. Bangaw. Ox-tongue, n. [ócs-tong] Buglosa. Dilang-baka (halaman). Oyster, n. [óister] Ostra. Talabá. P P, [pi] P (pe). P (pa). Pabular, adj. [pábiular] Lo que da pábulo ó mantenimiento á las cosas inmateriales; alimento. Nauukol sa ikinabubuhay; pagkain, pangbusog, pangkandilì. Pabulum, n. [pábiulam] Pábulo, pasto para las subsistencias; sustento, mantenimiento. Pagkain, pangbusog, pangkandilì sa ikabubuhay. Pace, n. [pez] Paso, modo de andar; medida de cinco pies. Hakbang; laktaw; sukat na apat na paa ang habà. Pace, v. [pez] Pasear; medir á pasos. Maglakád; sukatin sa hakbang. Pacific, adj. [pasífic] Pacífico, quieto, tranquilo. Tahimik, payapà, tiwasay. Pacifical = pacific. Pacificatory = pacific. Pacification, n. [pasifikécion] Pacificacion. Katahimikan, kapayapaan, katiwasayan. Pacify, v. [pásifai] Pacificar, sosegar, aquietar, calmar. Magpatahimik, pumayapà, magpatiwasay. Pack, n. [pac] Lío, fardo; paquete; baraja de naipes; conjunto de perros de caza; cuadrilla de malhechores. Balutan, balot, bilot; bigkís; manghar ng baraha; pulutong ng mga asong pangaso; pulutong ng tulisán. Pack, v. [pac] Empaquetar, enfardelar, embalar. Balutin, bilutin, bigkisín, isilid sa kaha ó kahon. Package, n. [pákedch] Paquete, fardo, embalaje. Balutan. Packer, n. [páker] Empaquetador. Tagabalot, mangbabalot. Packet, n. [páket] Paquete, fardo pequeño. Balutang muntî. Packhorse, n. [pácjors] Caballo de carga. Kabayong pásanan. Packing, n. [páking] Embalaje, enfardeladura. Balot, pagbalot, pagbabalot, pagbilot, pagbibilot. Paddle, n. [padl] Canalete, especie de remo. Gaod, sagwan. Paddle, v. [padl] Remar; chapotear. Gumaod, sumagwan; kumalawkaw. Paddock, n. [pádoc] Escuerzo, sapo; parque para caballos. Isang urì ng palakâ; kahuyan. Padlock, n. [pádloc] Candado. Kandado, seradura. Pagan, adj. [pégan] Étnico. Nauukol sa pagsamba sa dî tunay na Dyos. Pagan, n. [pégan] Pagano, gentil. Ang sumasamba sa dî tunay na Dyos. Paganish, adj. [péganish] Pagano, idólatra. Palasamba sa dî tunay na Dyos. Paganism, n. [péganizm] Paganismo, idolatría. Pagsambá sa dî tunay na Dyos. Page, n. [pedch] Página; page. Tudling, mukhâ ng dahon ng aklat, páhina; paring alilà. Page, v. [pedch] Foliar. Talaan ng bilang ang bawa't mukhâ ng dahon ng aklat. Pagoda, n. [pegóda] Pagoda. Pagoda. Pail, n. [pel] Cubo, balde. Timbâ, baldé, panalok, taóng, pangadlô ng tubig. Pailful, n. [pélful] Cubada. Sangtimbâ, isang salok. Pain, n. [pein] Pena, castigo; dolor, tormento. Dusa, parusa; sakít, anták, kirot, hirap. Pain, v. [pein] Doler. Sumakít, umanták, kumirót. Painfull, adj. [pénful] Penoso, dolorido. Masakít, maanták, makirót. Painless, adj. [pénles] Sin pena, sin dolor. Walang sakít, dî máraramdaman. Painstaking, adj. [pénsteking] Laborioso, incansado; cuidadoso. Masipag, walang pagod; maingat. Paint, n. [pent] Pintura. Pintá. Paint, v. [pent] Pintar. Magpintá. Painter, n. [pénter] Pintor. Pintór. Painting, n. [pénting] Pintura. Pintura. Pair, n. [per] Par. Pares, dalawa na magkabagay. Palace, n. [pálaz] Palacio. Palasyo, bahay-harì; gusaling malakí. Palatable, adj. [pálatabl] Sabroso, gustoso al paladar. Masarap, malasa. Palate, n. [pálet] Paladar; gusto. Ngalángalá; sarap, lasa. Palatial, adj. [palécial] Lo que pertenece á palacio. Nauukol sa palasyo. Palaver, n. [paláver] Charla, fruslería. Satsat, tabíl. Palaver, v. [paláver] Charlar. Samatsat. Pale, adj. [pel] Pálido, descolorido. Mapultâ, hilukâ. Pale, n. [pel] Palidez. Putlâ, kaputlaan. Pale, n. [pel] Palizada, defensa de estacas. Bakod, mga tulos, bakuran. Pale, v. [pel] Poner pálido, descolorar. Mamutlâ, manghilukà. Paleness, n. [pélnes] Palidez. Putlâ, kaputlaan. Paleography, n. [peliógrafi] Paleografía. Karunungan ng pagbasa't pagsulat ng mga sulat noong una. Palette, n. [pálet] Paleta. Panguhit, pangahig. Palfrey, n. [pólfri] Palafren. Kabayong mabait. Paling, n. [péling] Estacada, palizada. Bakod, mga tulos. Palisade, n. [paliséd] Palizada. Bakod, mga tulos. Palish, adj. [pélish] Algo pálido. Namumutlâ-mutlâ. Pall, n. [pol] Manto real; palio de arzobispo. Damit na pangbalabal, balabal-harì, balabal ng arsobispo. Pall, v. [pol] Desvanecerse, evaporarse. Maparam, máuwî sa walâ. Pallet, n. [pálet] Camilla. Arag-arag. Palliate, v. [páliet] Paliar. Balabalan. Pallid, adj. [pálid] Pálido, descolorido. Mapultâ, hilukâ. Pallidity, n. [palíditi] Palidez. Putlâ, kaputlaan, pamumutlâ. Pallor = Pallidity. Palm, n. [palm] Palma; palma de la mano; palmo. Palma; palad ng kamay; dangkal. Palm, v. [palm] Manosear; escamotar. Lamasin; paglaruan sa kamáy. Palmated, adj. [pálmeted] Palmeado. Anyong kamáy. Palmistry, n. [pálmistri] Quiromancia. Panghuhulà sa pamamag-itan ng palad ng kamáy. Palm Sunday, n. [palm-sánde] Domingo de ramos. Domingo de ramos. Palpable, adj. [pálpabl] Palpable. Nahihipò, nadadama. Palpitate, v. [pálpitet] Palpitar, latir. Sumikdó, tumibók, kumabá, kumutog. Palpitation, n. [palpitécion] Palpitacion, latido. Sikdó, tibók, kabá, kutóg. Palsied, adj. [pálsid] Paralítico. Pasmado; lumpó. Palsy, n. [pálsi] Parálisis; perlesía. Pasmá; pagkalumpó. Palter, v. [pálter] Jugar ó burlarse de alguno. Magbirô. Paltriness, n. [póltrines] Mezquindad, vileza. Karamutan, kaabáan. Paltry, adj. [póltri] Mezquino, vil. Maramot, hamak. Pamper, v. [pamper] Atracar, engordar. Bumusog, magpatabâ. Pamphlet, n. [pámflet] Folleto, librejo. Aklat na manipís. Pan, n. [pan] Cazuela. Kawalì. Panacea, n. [panasía] Panacea. Kagamutan ng madlâ. Pancake, n. [pánkek] Buñuelo. Bunyuelos. Pandemonium, n. [pandimoniam] Pandemonio. Kaguluhan. Pander, n. [pánder] Alcahuete. Bugaw. Pander, v. [pánder] Alcahuetear. Magbugaw. Pane, n. [pen] Cuadro de vidrio. Salamín ng bintanà ó pintô. Panel, n. [pánel] Entrepaño. Pagitan, agwat. Pang, n. [pang] Angustia, tormento, pena. Hírap, dalitâ, sákit. Panic, n. [pánic] Pánico. Kaguló, sindak, kakilabután. Pannier, n. [pánier] Cuévano. Bakol, batuláng. Pant, v. [pant] Jadear, palpitar. Humingal, sumikdó. Pantaloon, n. [pantalún] Pantalon. Pantalon, salawal. Pantry, n. [pántri] Despensa. Páminggalan. Pap, n. [pap] Pezon. Utong ng suso. Papa, n. [papá] Papá. Tatay, itay, tatang. Papacy, n. [pápasi] Papado. Pagkapapa. Papal, adj. [pápal] Papal. Nauukol sa papa. Paper, adj. [peíper] Hecho de papel. Papel ang pagkayarì. Paper, n. [peíper] Papel. Papél. Paper, v. [peíper] Entapizar una pieza con papel. Papilán. Papist, n. [pápist] Papista. Makapapa. Papistic, adj. [papístic] Papal, papístico. Nauukol sa papa. Papistical = papistic. Par, n. [par] Equivalencia, igualdad. Tumbas, paris. Parable, n. [párabl] Parábola. Talinghagà. Parade, n. [paréd] Parada, procesion cívica. Parada, prusisyon. Paradise, n. [páradais] Paraiso. Paraiso, kaginghawahan. Paragon, n. [páregon] Modelo, muestra. Ulirán, halimbawà. Paragraph, n. [páragraf] Párrafo. Talatà. Parallel, adj. [páralel] Paralelo, igual. Kapantay, kagaya. Paralysis, n. [parálisis] Parálisis. Kalumpuhan. Paralytic, adj. [paralític] Paralítico. Nauukol sa kalumpuhan. Paralytical = Paralytic. Paralytic, n. [parálitic] Paralítico. Lumpó. Paralyze, v. [páralaiz] Paralizar. Malumpó, mapasmá. Paramount, adj. [páramaunt] Supremo, superior. Kátaastaasan. Parapet, n. [párapet] Parapeto. Kutà, kublihan ng hukbó. Paraphrase, n. [párafrez] Paráfrasis. Salaysay na paliwanag. Paraphrase, v. [párafrez] Parafrasear. Ipaliwanag sa katagang wikà. Parasite, n. [párasait] Parásito. Ang nabubuhay sa gugol ng iba. Parasol, n. [párasol] Parasol, quitasol. Payong na pang-araw. Parboil, v. [párboil] Medio cocer. Pakuluan ng kaontî. Parcel, n. [pársel] Paquete. Balutan. Parcel, v. [pársel] Empaquetar. Balutin. Parch, v. [parch] Tostar. Isangag, ibusá. Parchment, n. [párchment] Pergamino. Katad na malinis na masusulatan ó máipangbabalat. Pardon, n. [párdon] Perdon. Kapatawaran, patawad. Pardon, v. [párdon] Perdonar. Magpatawad. Pardonable, adj. [párdonabl] Perdonable. Mapatatawad. Pare, v. [par] Recortar. Talupan, bawasan. Parent, n. [párent] El padre ó la madre. Magulang, amá ó ina. Parentage, n. [párentedch] Parentela. Ának, angkan. Parental, adj. [paréntal] Paternal. Nauukol sa amá ó magulang. Parenthesis, n. [parénzisis] Paréntesis. Parentesís, tandâ na pangkulong ng paliwanag na salitâ ó salaysay. Parish, n. [párish] Parroquia, curato. Ang saklaw ng isang parè ó pastor. Parity, n. [páriti] Paridad, igualdad. Kapantayan. Park, n. [park] Parque. Halamanang bayan, líwasang malaki. Parlance, n. [párlans] Conversacion, habla. Sálitaan, pag-uusap. Parley, n. [párle] Conferencia, plática. Panayam, sálitaan, úsapan. Parley, v. [párle] Parlamentar. Makipanayam, makipagsalitaan, makipagusap. Parliament, n. [párliment] Parlamento. Kapulungan ng mga tagapaglagdâ ng kautusan. Parlor, n. [párlor] Sala de recibimiento, parlatorio. Silid na tanggapan sa mga pánauhin, silíd na ukol sa pagsasalitaan. Parochial, adj. [parókial] Parroquial. Nauukol sa pook na sakop ng isang simbahan. Parody, n. [párodi] Parodia. Badyá. Parole, n. [peról] Palabra, promesa. Pangakò. Parricide, n. [párrisaid] Parricida; parricidio. Ang pumatay sa sariling amá; pagpatay sa sariling amá. Parrot, n. [párrot] Papagayo. Loro. Parry, v. [pár-ri] Esgrimir, desviar los golpes del contrario. Manalag, umilag. Parsimonious, adj. [parsimónioes] Económico, moderado en sus gastos. Mapag-arimohonan, matipíd. Parsimony, n. [pársimoni] Parsimonia, frugalidad. Pag-aarimohonan, katipiran. Parson, n. [parsn] Párroco. Parè, kura, pastor. Parsonage, n. [pársonedch] Curato. Pagkakura, pagkapastor. Part, n. [part] Parte, partido, region. Bahagi, lápian, dako. Part, v. [part] Partir, distribuir, separar, dividir. Bumahagi, humatì, maghiwalay. Partake, v. [parték] Participar. Sumali, dumamay. Partaker, n. [partéker] Participante. Kasali. Partial, adj. [párcial] Parcial. May kinakampihan, may kinikilingan. Partiality, n. [parciáliti] Parcialidad. Kiling, hilig. Participant, adj. [partícipant] Participante, partícipe. Kasali, karamay, kaalám, kasabwat. Participate, v. [partísipet] Participar. Sumali, dumamay. Participation, n. [partisipécion] Participacion. Pagkakasali, pagkakadamay. Particle, n. [pártikl] Partícula. Katitíng, kapyangot, karirít. Particular, adj. [partíkiular] Particular, singular. Bukod, tangì. Particularity, n. [partikiuláriti] Particularidad. Pamumukod, pagkatangì. Parting, n. [párting] Separacion, partida, despedida. Paghiwalay, pag-alis, pagpapaalam. Partisan, n. [partízan] Partidario, secuaz. Kalapì, kakampí, kasama. Partition, n. [partícion] Partición; separacion, division. Piníd; paghihiwalay, pagbabahagi, paghahatì. Partition, v. [partícion] Partir, dividir en varias partes. Bumahagi; bahagihin. Partition-wall, n. [partícion-uol] Pared medianera. Piníd. Partner, n. [pártner] Socio; compañero. Kasamá; kasama. Partnership, n. [pártnership] Compañía, sociedad. Pagka-kasamá. Parturition, n. [partiurícion] El estado de la hembra que está con los dolores de parto. Panganganak. Partridge, n. [pártridch] Perdiz. Pugò. Party, n. [párti] Partido; parte; convite. Lápian, samahán, katipunan; pangkat; ányayahan, pigíng. Party-colored, adj. [pártikólord] Abigarrado. Sarisaring kulay. Party-man, n. [pártiman] Partidario. Kakampí, kalapì. Pass, n. [pas] Paso; camino, pase. Hakbang, lakad; landas, daan; pases, pahintulot. Pass, v. [pas] Pasar; ocurrir. Dumaan, magdaan, lumagpas, makaraan; mangyari. Passable, adj. [pásabl] Pasable; pasadero, transitable. Mapararaan; mararaanan, malalakaran. Passage, n. [pásedch] Pasaje; travesía, pasadizo. Pasahe, bayad sa paglalalakbay, paglalakbay, pagdaraan. Passenger, n. [pásendcher] Pasajero. Taong sakay, ang sakay ó lulan. Passer-by, n. [páser-bai] El que pasa. Ang nagdadaan. Passing, n. [pásing] Paso, pasaje. Pagdaraan. Passing-bell, n. [pásing-bel] La campana que toca á muerto. Agunyas. Passion, n. [pásion] Pasión; amor; celo, ardor. Hirap, damdamin, pag-ibig, sikap, sigla. Passionate, adj. [pásionet] Apasionado, colérico. Madamdamin, magagalitín. Passover, n. [pásover] Pascua. Paskó. Passport, n. [pásport] Pasaporte. Pahintulot na makalabas ó makapasok sa isang daungan. Past, adj. [past] Pasado. Lipás, nakaraan. Past, n. [past] Lo pasado, el tiempo que pasó. Panahong lumipas, panahong nagdaan. Paste, n. [past] Pasta, engrudo. Pangdikit. Paste, v. [past] Engrudar. Magdikít; idikít. Pasteboard, n. [péstbord] Carton fuerte. Kartón. Pastime, n. [pastáim] Pasatiempo, diversion, recreacion. Líbangan, pangparaan ng panahon, áliwan. Pastor, n. [pástor] Pastor. Pastor. Pastoral, adj. [pástoral] Pastoril, pastoral. Nauukol sa pastor. Pastry, n. [péstri] Pasteles. Kakaníng tila mamón. Pasture, n. [pástiur] Pastura, pasto. Pastulan, pásabsaban. Pasture, v. [pástiur] Apacentar. Magpastor, mag-alagà ng hayop. Pasty, n. [pésti] Pastel. Kakaníng naninikít. Pat, adj. [pat] Apto, conveniente, propio. Bagay, ukol, marapat. Patch, n. [patch] Remiendo. Tagpî, tutóp. Patch, v. [patch] Remendar. Magtagpî, magtutop. Patchwork, n. [patchuerk] Obra ó labor de retacitos. Pagtatagpî, pagtututop. Pate, n. [pet] La cabeza. Ang ulo. Patent, adj. [pátent] Patente, manifiesto, publico. Maliwanag, litaw, hayag, tanyag. Patentee, n. [patentí] El que posee un privilegio de invencion. Ang may katibayan ng tungkol sa isang kathâ. Paternal, adj. [páternal] Paternal. Nauukol sa amá. Paternity, n. [patérniti] Paternidad. Pagkaamá. Path, n. [paz] Senda, camino, paso, huella. Landas, daan, dáanan, bakás. Pathetic, adj. [pazétic] Patético. Nakápupukaw. Pathetical = Pathetic. Pathless, adj. [pázles] Intransitable. Dî maraanan. Pathologist, n. [pezólodchist] Patologista. Manggagamot. Pathology, n. [pezólodchi] Patología. Karunungan sa mga sakít. Pathway, n. [páswe] Senda. Landás. Patience, n. [péciens] Paciencia, resignacion. Pagtitiis, pagbabatá. Patient, adj. [pécient] Paciente, sufrido. Mapagtiis, mapagbatá. Patient, n. [pécient] Enfermo. May sakít. Patriarch, n. [pétriarc] Patriarca. Amá ng malaking mag-anak ó angkan. Patrician, adj. [patrícian] Patricio. Marangal, dakilà. Patrimonial, adj. [patrimónial] Patrimonial. Nauukol sa mana. Patrimony, n. [pátrimoni] Patrimonio. Mana. Patriot, n. [pétriot] Patriota. Makabayan. Patriotic, adj. [petriótic] Patriótico. Makabayan. Patriotism, n. [pétriotizm] Patriotismo. Pag-ibig sa bayang kinamulatan. Patrol, n. [petról] Patrulla. Bantay sa daan. Patrol, v. [petról] Patrullar, rondar. Magbantay sa daan. Patron, n. [pétron] Patron, protector. Pintakasi, tagakalingâ; sukì. Patronage, n. [pátronedch] Patrocinio, proteccion. Lingap, kandilì. Patroness, n. [pétrones] Patrona. Babaing sukì. Patronize, v. [pátronais] Patrocinar, proteger. Lumingap, kumandilì, kumalingâ. Patent, n. [pátent] Galocha, calzado de madera. Bakyâ. Patter, v. [pátter] Patalear, patear. Sumikad, tumadyak. Pattern, n. [páttern] Modelo, norma, ejemplar, muestra. Parisán, mwestra; uliran, halimbawà. Pattern, v. [páttern] Imitar, servir de ejemplo. Pumaris, kumuhang ulirán, tularan. Paucity, n. [pósiti] Poquedad, escasez. Kakauntian, dalang. Paunch, n. [ponch] Panza, vientre. Tyan. Pauper, n. [póper] Pobre. Pulubi, mahirap. Pauperism, n. [póperism] Pobreza. Hirap, kahirapan. Pause, n. [poz] Pausa, suspension. Untol, tigil, hintô. Pause, v. [poz] Pausar, cesar. Umuntol, tumigil, humintô. Pave, v. [pev] Empedrar, enladrillar. Maglatag ng bato ó laryó. Pavement, n. [pévment] Pavimento, empedrado de calle. Latag na bató sa daan. Paw, n. [po] Garra. Kukó ó pangalmót ng hayop. Pawn, n. [pon] Prenda. Sanglâ. Pawn, v. [pon] Empeñar. Magsanglâ. Pawnbroker, n. [pónbroker] Prestamista. Nagpapasanglâ. Pay, n. [pe] Pago, sueldo, salario. Bayad, upa; sahod. Pay, v. [pe] Pagar. Magbayad, umupa. Payable, adj. [péyebl] Pagadero. Mababayaran. Pay-day, n. [péy-de] Día de paga. Kaarawan ng pagbabayad. Payee, n. [peyí] La persona á quien se paga una letra de cambio. Ang binabayaran. Payer, n. [péyer] Pagador. Tagapagbayad. Payment, n. [péyment] Pago; paga. Pagbabayad; kabayaran. Pea, n. [pi] Guisante. Gisante, patanì. Peace, n. [piz] Paz; reposo, sosiego. Kapayapaan; kapahingahan, katiwasayan. Peaceable, adj. [pízabl] Tranquilo, sosegado, pacífico. Tiwasay, tahimik, payapà. Peaceful, adj. [pízful] Pacífico, tranquilo, quieto. Payapà, tiwasay, tahimik. Peack, n. [pick] Melocoton. Melokotón. Peacock, n. [pícoc] Pavo real. Pabo real. Peak, n. [pic] Cima, cumbre. Taluktok, tugatog. Peal, n. [pil] Campaneo, estruendo. Alingawngaw, taginting. Peal, v. [pil] Hacer resonar. Magpaalingawngaw. Peanut, n. [pínat] Cacahuate. Manê. Pear, n. [pir] Pera. Peras. Pearl, n. [perl] Perla. Perlas. Pearled, adj. [perld] Guarnecido de perlas. Natatampukan ng perlas. Pearly, adj. [pérli] Lo que es semejante á perlas. Parang perlas. Peasant, n. [pésant] Labriego, patan. Taong bukid, magsasaka. Peashooter, n. [písiuter] Cerbatana. Sumpít. Pebble, n. [pebl] Guija, guijarro. Batóng muntî. Pebbly, adj. [pébli] Lleno de guijarros. Mabató. Peck, n. [peck] Picotazo. Tukâ. Peck, v. [peck] Picotear, picar. Manukâ, tumukâ. Pectoral, adj. [péctoral] Pectoral. Nauukol sa dibdib. Peculate, v. [pékiulet] Robar al público. Magnakaw ng salaping bayan. Peculation, n. [pekiulécion] Peculado. Pagnanakaw ng salaping bayan. Peculator, n. [pékiuletor] Peculador. Magnanakaw ng salaping bayan. Pecuniary, adj. [pikiúnieri] Pecuniario. Nauukol sa salapî. Pedagogue, n. [pédagog] Pedagogo. Guró. Pedagogy, n. [pédagodchi] Pedagogía. Karunungan sa pagtuturò. Pedal, adj. [pídal] Lo que pertenece al pie. Nauukol sa paa. Peddle, v. [pédl] Ocuparse en frioleras. Tumalaga sa mumunting gáwain. Pedestal, n. [pédestal] Pedestal, peana, peaña. Patungán. Pedestrian, n. [pedéstrian] Andador, paseador. Palalakad, mapaglakad. Pedigree, n. [pédigri] Genealogía. Lahì, angkan. Peak, n. [pic] Peñol, peñon. Bundok na bató. Peel, n. [pil] Corteza, cáscara. Upak, balat. Peel, v. [pil] Descortezar, mondar. Upakan, talupan, alisan ng balat. Peep, n. [pip] Asomo. Dungaw, sungaw. Peep, v. [pip] Asomar. Dumungaw, sumungaw, manungaw. Peer, n. [pir] Compañero. Kasama. Peerless, adj. [pírles] Incomparable. Walang kapara, walang kaparis. Peevish, adj. [pívish] Regañon, enojadizo; enojoso. Magagalitín, mapootin, masamâ ang ulo. Peevishness, n. [pívishnes] Mal humor. Samâ ng ulo. Peg, n. [peg] Clavija, espita. Pakong kahoy. Peg, v. [peg] Clavar. Ipakò. Pelf, n. [pelf] Dinero, riquezas. Salapî, yaman. Pelican, n. [pélican] Pelícano. Ibong tila tagak. Pellet, n. [pélet] Pelotilla. Munting pelota. Pellicle, n. [pélicl] Película. Balok. Pellucid, adj. [peliúcid] Trasparente, diáfano. Nanganganinaw, malinaw. Pelt, n. [pelt] Pellejo, cuero. Balat. Pelvis, n. [pélvis] Pélvis. Butó ng baywang. Pen, n. [pen] Pluma. Pluma, panulat. Pen, n. [pen] Jaula, caponera. Kulungán, tangkal. Pen, v. [pen] Enjaular, encerrar. Kumulong, isilid sa tangkal. Penal, adj. [pínal] Penal. Nauukol sa parusa. Penalty, n. [pénalti] Pena, castigo. Parusa, dusa. Penance, n. [pénans] Penitencia. Dusa, pagpapakahirap. Pencil, n. [pénsil] Lápiz; pincel. Lapis, panulat; pinsél. Pencil-case, n. [pénsil-kes] Lapicero. Sisidlán, ng lapis. Pendant, n. [péndant] Pendiente. Hikaw. Pendency, n. [péndensi] Suspencion; demora. Pagkatigil; pagtatagal, paglulwat. Pendent, adj. [péndent] Pendiente, colgante. Nakalawit, nakasabit, nakabitin. Pending, adj. [pénding] Pendiente, indeciso. Nabibitin, álanganin. Pendulum, n. [péndiuloem] Péndulo. Péndulo. Penetrate, v. [pénitret] Penetrar, introducir. Tumalab, tumagós. sumuut. Penetration, n. [penitrécion] Penetracion; sagacidad. Talab, tagós; katalinuan. Penholder, n. [pénjolder] Portapluma. Tatagnán ó mango ng pluma. Penitence, n. [pénitens] Penitencia, contricion. Pagpapakahirap. Penitent, adj. [pénitent] Penitente. Nagpapakahirap. Penitential, adj. [peniténcial] Penitencial. Nauukol sa pagpapakahirap. Penitentiary, n. [peniténcieri] Penitenciario. Bilangguan. Penknife, n. [pénnaif] Cortaplumas. Lanseta. Penman, n. [pénman] Pendolista. Marunong sumulat. Penmanship, n. [pénmanship] Escritura, el arte de escribir. Sulat-kamay, dunong sa pagsulat. Pennant, n. [pénant] Banderola. Watawat, bandilà. Penniless, adj. [péniles] Sin dinero, falto de dinero. Walang salapi, mahirap, salat. Pension, n. [pénsion] Pension. Pension. Pensionary, adj. & n. [pénsioneri] Pensionado; pensionista. May pension. Pensive, adj. [pénsiv] Pensativo. Mapag-isíp, mapanimdim. Pentateuch, n. [péntetiuc] Pentateuco. Unang limang aklat ng Biblia. Pentecost, n. [pénticost] Pentecoste. Kapistahan ng pagparito ng Espíritu Santo. Penthouse, n. [péntjaus] Tejaroz, tejadillo. Sibe [ng bahay]. Penultimate, adj. [pinéltimet] Penúltimo. Pangalawa sa hulí. Penumbra, n. [pinoembra] Penumbra. Pagdidilim ng bwan. Penurious, adj. [piniúrioes] Tacaño, avaro. Maramot, sakim. Penury, n. [péniuri] Penuria, pobreza, carestía. Hirap, kasalatan. People, n. [pipl] Pueblo. Bayan, mga tao. People, v. [pipl] Poblar. Bayanin. Pepper, n. [péper] Pimienta. Pamintá. Pepper, v. [péper] Sazonar con pimienta. Magtimplá ng pamintá. Pepper-box, n. [péper-bacs] Pimentero. Sisidlan ng pamintá. Peradventure, adv. [peradvénchur] Quizá, acaso, por ventura. Marahil, kaipalà. Perambulate, v. [perámbiulet] Transitar, recorrer algún territorio. Maglibot, maggalâ. Perambulation, n. [perambiulécion] La accion de caminar ó transitar por alguna parte. Paglilibót, paggagalâ. Perambulator, n. [perámbiuletor] Cochecito para niños. Karwakarwahihan. Perceivable, adj. [persívabl] Perceptible. Námamataan, náhahalatâ, náwawawaan. Perceive, v. [persív] Percibir, entender. Mámataan, máhalatâ, máwawaan. Percentage, n. [perséntedch] Por ciento. Sanggayon sa bawa't sangdaan. Perceptible, adj. [perséptibl] Perceptible. Namamataan, halatâ, litaw. Perceptibility, n. [perceptibíliti] Percepción. Warì, pakiramdam. Perception, n. [persépcion] Percepción, idea. Warì, isipan, akalà. Perceptive, adj. [perséptiv] Perceptivo. Maramdamin. Perchance, adv. [percháns] Acaso, quizas. Kaypalà, marahil. Percolate, v. [pércolet] Colar, filtrar. Sumalà, tumawas. Percuss, v. [perkás] Golpear. Máumpog, mábunggô, mábanggâ. Percussion, n. [perkásion] Percusion, golpe. Umpog, bunggô, banggâ. Perdition, n. [perdícioen] Perdicion, destruccion, ruina. Kapahamakán, kasiraan, sirà, huhô. Peregrinate, v. [péregrinet] Peregrinar. Maglakád, maglakbay. Peregrination, n. [peregrinécion] Peregrinacion. Paglalakbáy, paglalakád. Peremptory, adj. [péremtori] Perentorio, decisivo, definitivo. Patapós. Perennial, adj. [perénial] Perenne, continuo, permanente. Palagì, parati, panáy. Perfect, adj. [pérfect] Perfecto, acabado. Sakdal, lubós, ganáp. Perfect, v. [pérfect] Perfeccionar, acabar. Lubusín, ganapín. Perfection, n. [perféccion] Perfeccion. Kasakdalan, kalubusan, kaganapan. Perfidious, adj. [perfídioes] Pérfido, desleal, traidor. Palamara, sukáb, taksil, lilo. Perfidy, n. [pérfidi] Perfidia, traicion. Kasukabán, kataksilán, paglililo. Perforate, v. [pérforet] Horadar, calar. Bumutas, bumalibol. Perforation, n. [perforécion] Perforacion. Pagbutas. Perforce, adj. [perfórz] Por fuerza. Sápilitan, sa dahás, sa lakás. Perform, v. [perfórm] Ejecutar, poner en obra alguna cosa. Magsagawâ, gumawâ, gumanap. Performance, n. [perfórmans] Ejecucion, complimiento; representacion teatral, funcion. Pagsasagawâ, pagganap; palabás dulaan. Perfume, n. [péfium] Perfume. Pabangó. Perfume, v. [péfium] Perfumar. Pabanguhín. Perfumer, n. [perfiúmer] Perfumero, perfumista. Magpapabangó. Perhaps, adv. [perjáps] Quizá, acaso, por ventura. Marahil, kaypalà. Peril, n. [péril] Peligro, riesgo. Panganib, pangambá. Perilous, adj. [périloes] Peligroso. Mapanganib, mapangambá. Perimeter, n. [perímiter] Perímetro. Paligid. Period, n. [píriod] Período, cierto y determinado número de años. Panahon, tagal, lwat, láon. Periodic, adj. [piriódic] Periódico. Panapanahón. Periodical = Periodic. Periphery, n. [piríferi] Periferia, circunferencia. Paligid. Perish, v. [pérish] Perecer, acabar, morir. Mamatay, mautás, manaw, maparam. Perishable, adj. [périshabl] Perecedero. Namamatay, napaparam. Peristyle, n. [péristail] Peristilo, espacio rodeado de columnas. Dakong ligíd ng halige. Periwig, n. [periwig] Peluca, peluquin. Buhok na postiso, peluka. Perjure, n. [pérdchur] Perjurar. Manunumpâ ng dî totoo. Perjury, n. [pérdchuri] Perjurio. Panunumpâ na walang katotohanan. Perk, v. [perk] Pavonearse. Maghambog. Permanence, n. [permánens] Permanencia. Pananatile, pamamalagì. Permanency = Permanence. Permanent, adj. [pérmanent] Permanente. Nananatile, namamalagì. Permeate, v. [pérmiet] Penetrar, atravesar. Tumagos, lumagpas. Permissible, adj. [permísibl] Permisible. Máipahihintulot, máipapayag. Permission, n. [permísion] Permiso, licencia. Pahintulot, kapahintulután. Permit, n. [permít] Permiso. Pahintulot. Permit, v. [permít] Permitir. Itulot, ipahintulot, ipayag. Permutation, n. [permiutécion] Permutacion, trueque, cambio. Palít, pagpapalitan. Permute, v. [permiút] Permutar, cambiar. Magpalit. Pernicious, adj. [poernícioes] Pernicioso; perjudicial. Nakapipinsalâ, nakasisirà, nakapagpapahamak. Perpendicular, adj. [perpendíkiular] Perpendicular. Patirík, patayô. Perpendicularity, n. [perpendikiuláriti] El estado de lo que es perpendicular. Tayô, tirík. Perpetrate, v. [pérpitret] Perpetrar, cometer algun delito. Magkasala, magkamit ng sala. Perpetration, n. [perpitrécion] Perpetracion. Pagkakasala, pagkakamit ng sala. Perpetual, adj. [perpétiual] Perpetuo, eterno. Magpakaylanman, parati. Perpetuate, v. [perpétiuet] Perpetuar, eternizar. Pamalagiin, pamaratihin. Perpetuation, n. [perpetiuécion] Perpetuacion. Pagkalagì. Perpetuity, n. [perpetiuíti] Perpetuidad. Pamamalagì, pamamarati. Perplex, v. [perplécs] Confundir, embrollar. Maguló ang isip, mag-alapaap, magsalimuot. Perplexity, n. [perplécsiti] Perplejidad. Kaguluhan ng isip, pagsasalimuot, pag-aalapaap. Persecute, v. [pérsikiut] Persiguir; molestar. Humabol, mamuntot; yumamot, umabala. Persecution, n. [persikiúcion] Persecucion. Habol. Perseverance, n. [persivírans] Perseverancia. Tiyagâ, katiyagaan. Persevere, v. [persivír] Perseverar, persistir. Magtiyagâ, magpumilit, manatile. Persist, v. [persíst] Persistir, permanecer. Magpumilit, manatile, mamalagì. Persistence, n. [persístens] Persistencia, permanencia. Pagpupumilit, pananatile, pamamalagì. Persistent, adj. [persístent] Persistente. Nagpupumilit, namamalagì. Person, n. [pérsn] Persona, individuo. Tao, katao. Personage, n. [pérsonedch] Personaje. Tao, pagkatao. Personal, adj. [pérsonal] Personal. Sarile. Personality, n. [personáliti] Personalidad. Pagkatao. Personate, v. [pérsonet] Representar. Kumatawan, gumaya. Personify, v. [persónifai] Personificar. Ariing parang tao. Perspective, adj. [perspéctiv] Perspectivo. Nauukol sa tánawin. Perspective, n. [perspéctiv] Perspectiva. Tánawin. Perspiration, n. [perspirécion] Transpiración, sudor. Pawis. Perspire, v. [perspáir] Transpirar, sudar. Magpawis. Persuade, v. [persuéd] Persuadir, excitar. Humikayat, umakít, mag-udyok, magbuyó. Persuasible, adj. [persuésibl] Persuasible. Nakahihikayat, nakaaakít. Persuasion, n. [persuécion] Persuasion. Hikayat, akít, udyok. Pert, adj. [pert] Listo, petulante. Maliksí, pangahas. Pertain, v. [pertén] Pertenecer. Máukol. Pertinacious, adj. [pertinécioes] Pertinaz, terco. Matigás ang ulo. Pertinacity, n. [pertinásiti] Pertinacia, obstinacion, tenacidad. Tigas ng ulo, katigasan ng ulo. Pertinent, adj. [pértinent] Pertinente; perteneciente. Ukol, akmâ, bagay. Pertness, n. [pértnes] Impertinencia, atrevimiento. Kapangahasan. Perturb, v. [pertárb] Perturbar, inquietar. Pumukaw, umabala, gumambalà. Perturbation, n. [perturbécien] Perturbacion, desorden. Gambalà, guló, ligalig. Perusal, n. [periúsal] Lectura, leccion. Basa, pag-aaral. Peruse, v. Leer. Bumasa. Perverse, adj. [pervérs] Perverso, depravado. Balakyot, masamâ. Perversity, n. [pervérsiti] Perversidad. Kabalakyutan. Pervert, v. [pervért] Pervertir. Akayin sa masamâ, pasamain. Pest, n. [pest] Peste, pestilencia. Salot, peste. Pester, v. [péster] Molestar, cansar. Gumambalà, yumamot. Pestiferous, adj. [pestíferes] Pestífero; pernicioso. Nakasasalot, nakagagambalà. Pestilence, n. [péstilens] Pestilencia, peste. Salot, peste. Pestilent, adj. [péstilent] Pestilente, pestífero. Nakasasalot, nakapepeste. Pestle, n. [pesl] Mano de almirez, maja de mortero. Halo ng almirés, pangdikdik. Pet, n. [pet] Favorito. Ang minamahal, ang itinatangì. Pet, v. [pet] Mimar. Palayawin. Petal, n. [pétal] Pétalo. Dahon ng bulaklak. Petition, n. [pitícion] Peticion, súplica, ruego. Kahilingan, hingî, samò, pamanhik. Petition, v. [pitícion] Suplicar, solicitar. Humilíng, humingî, sumamò, mamanhik. Petrification, n. [petrifikécion] Petrificacion. Pagmamatigas ng loob. Petrify, v. [pétrifai] Petrificar, endurecer el corazon. Magmatigás. Petroleum, n. [pitróliem] Petróleo. Gas. Petticoat, n. [péticot] Guardapiés, zagalejo, enaguas. Nagwas. Pettish, adj. [pétish] Enojadizo, regañon. Magagalitín, mapootin. Petulance, n. [pétiulans] Petulancia, descaro. Kawalang hiyaan, kalapastanganan. Petulancy = petulance. Petulant, adj. [pétiulant] Petulante, descarado. Walang hiyâ, lapastangan. Pew, n. [piu] Banco cerrado de iglesia. Likmuan sa simbahan. Phalanx, n. [fálancs] Falange. Pulutong ng kawal. Phantasm, n. [fántasm] Fantasma. Multó, guníguní. Phantom, n. [fántom] Fantasma. Multó, guníguní. Pharisee, n. [fárisi] Fariseo. Pariseo. Pharmacy, n. [fármasi] Farmacia. Parmasya, karunungan sa paggawâ ng gamot. Pharynx, n. [faríncs] Faringe. Ngalángalá. Phasis, n. [fésis] Fase. Anyô. Phenomenon, n. [finóminon] Fenómeno, todo lo que admira por su novedad. Katakataká, kamanghâmanghâ. Phial, n. [fáial] Redomilla. Boteng muntî. Philanthropic, adj. [filanzrópic] Filantrópico. Mapagkaloob, mapagdamay. Philanthropical = Philanthropic. Philanthropy, n. [filánzropi] Filantropía. Pagkakaloob, pagmamagandangloob. Philological, adj. [filolódchical] Filológico. Nauukol sa wikà. Philologist, n. [filólodchist] Filólogo. Marunong ng kapakanán ng mga wikà. Philology, n. [filólodchi] Filología. Karunungan sa kapakanán ng mga wikà. Philosopher, n. [filósofer] Filósofo. Pilósopo, pantas sa pagmamatwid. Philosophy, n. [filósofi] Filosofía. Karunungan sa pagmamatwid. Philter, n. [fílter] Filtro; hechizo amatorio. Salaán; gayuma. Phiz, n. [fiz] Facha, cara. Anyô, mukhâ. Phlegm, n. [flem] Flema. Kalaghalâ, plema. Phlegmatic, adj. [flegmátic] Flegmático. Makalaghalà. Phlegmatical = Phlegmatic. Phonetic, adj. [fonétic] Fonético. Nauukol m tingig. Phonics, n. [fónics] Ciencia de los sonidos. Karunungan sa mga tingig. Phonograph, n. [fónograf] Fonógrafo. Ponógrapo. Phosphoric, adj. [fosfóric] Fosfórico. Nauukol sa pósporo ó siklab. Phosphorus, n. [fósforoes] Fósforo. Pósporo, siklaban. Photograph, n. [fótograf] Retrato. Retrato. Photograph, v. [fótograf] Fotografiar. Rumetrato. Photographer, n. [fotógrafer] Fotógrafo. Mangreretrato. Photography, n. [fotógrafi] Fotografía. Karunungan sa pagretrato; dakong pákuhanan ng retrato. Phrase, n. [frez] Frase. Pananalitâ, pananalaysay. Phrenology, n. [frinólodchi] Frenología. Karunungan sa utak ng tao. Phrensy, n. [frénzi] Frenesí, delirio. Pagkahibáng. Phthisic, adj. [tízic] Tísico. Natutuyô. Phthisis, n. [tísis] Tisis. Pagkatuyô. Physic, n. [fízic] Física. Písika, kurunungan tungkol sa likás ng mga bagay ng katalagahan. Physic, n. [fízic] Medicina, medicamento. Gamot, kagamutan. Physic, v. [fízic] Medicamentar. Manggamot. Physical, adj. [fízical] Físico. Nauukol sa písika. Physician, adj. [fizícioen] Médico. Manggagamot, médiko. Physics, n. [físics] Física. Písika ó karunungan tungkol sa likás ng mga bagay ng katalagahan. Physiognomy, n. [fiziógnomi] Fisonomía; rostro, semblante. Pagmumukhâ; anyô, hichura. Pianist, n. [piánist] Pianista. Pyanista, marunong tumugtog ng pyano. Piano, n. [piáno] Piano. Pyano. Picayune, n. [picayún] Medio real. Sikolo. Pick, n. [pic] Pico. Tukâ. Pick, v. [pic] Picar; coger, recoger. Tumukâ; pumulot, dumampot. Pickaxe, n. [pícacs] Pico. Pico. Picket, n. [píket] Estaca. Tulos. Pickle, n. [pícl] Salmuera, escabeche. Achara. Pickpocket, n. [pícpoket] Ratero. Mánenekas. Picnic, n. [pícnic] Comelona. Pagliliwaliw sa isang salosalo. Pictorial, adj. [pictórial] Pictórico. Nauukol sa pintura ó panglalarawan. Picture, n. [pícchur] Pintura, cuadro. Larawan, kwadro. Pie, n. [pai] Pastel, empanada. Pay [kakanín]. Piebald, adj. [páibold] Manchado de varios colores. Sarisaring kulay. Piece, n. [piz] Pedazo, pieza, obra; remiendo. Putol, bahagi, piraso; tagpî, tutop. Piece, v. [piz] Remendar. Magtagpî, magtutop. Piecemeal, adv. [pízmil] En pedazos. Untiuntî. Pied, adj. [páid] Variegado, manchado. Batíkbatík. Pier, n. [pir] Muelle. Mwelye, daungán, punduhan. Pierce, v. [pirs] Penetrar; agujerear, taladrar. Tumagos, lumagpas; bumutas. Piety, n. [páieti] Piedad, devoción. Kabanalan, pagtalagá. Pig, n. [pig] Cerdo, puerco. Baboy; biík. Pigeon, n. [pídchen] Paloma. Kalapate. Pigeon-house, n. [pídchen-jaus] Palomar. Bahay-kalapate. Pig-headed, adj. [píg-jeded] Estúpido. Ungás. Pigment, n. [pígment] Pigmento. Tinà, pangkulay. Pigmy, n. [pígmi] Pigmeo, enano. Pinineo; pandák. Pike, n. [páik] Lucio; pica. Pakong malaké. Pilaster, n. [piláster] Pilastra. Halige. Pile, n. [páil] Estaca, pila, monton. Tulos, salansán, buntón. Pile, v. [páil] Amontonar, apilar. Magbunton, magsalansán. Pilfer, v. [pílfoer] Ratear. Manekas, mang-umít. Pilgrim, n. [pílgrim] Peregrino, remero. Ang naglalakbay. Pilgrimage, n. [pílgrimedch] Peregrinacion. Paglalakbay. Pill, n. [pil] Píldora. Pildurás. Pillage, n. [píledch] Pillage, botín, saqueo. Nápanglooban, nápangharangan. Pillage, v. [píledch] Pillar, hurtar. Mangloob, mangharang, magnakaw. Pillar, n. [pílar] Columna, pilar. Halige. Pillow, n. [pílo] Almohada. Unan. Pillow-case, n. [pílo-kes] Funda de la almohada. Punda ng unan. Pilot, n. [páilot] Piloto. Piloto, tagaugit. Pilot, v. [páilot] Guiar un navío en su navegacion. Magpalakad ng sasakyan sa tubig; umugit. Pimple, n. [pímpl] Granito, tumorcillo. Buklíg, tigihawat. Pin, n. [pin] Alfiler. Espilé. Pin, v. [pin] Prender con alfileres. Mag-espilé. Pincers, n. [píncoers] Pinzas, tenazuelas. Sipit, panipit. Pinch, n. [pinch] Pellizco. Kurót. Pinch, v. [pinch] Pellizcar. Kumurot. Pincher, n. [píncher] Pellizcador. Mángungurot. Pincushion, n. [pincúsion] Acerico, almohadilla. Unan-unanang tusukán ng espilé. Pine, v. [páin] Desfallecer, estar lánguido. Manglupaypay, mamanglaw. Pine-apple, n. [páin-epl] Piña. Pinyá. Pinion, v. [pínioen] Atar las alas, maniatar. Talian sa pakpak, balitiin. Pink, n. [pink] Color de rosa. Kulay rosas. Pinnacle, n. [pínacl] Pináculo, chapitel. Taluktok, pulupo, dakong pinakamataas ng gusalì ó bahay. Pint, n. [pint] Pinta, medida de líquidos. Pinta ó isang takalan ng mga bagay na lusáw. Pioneer, n. [paionír] Zapador. Manggagawà, mángangadló ng lupang hukáy sa pamamagitan ng pala. Pious, adj. [páioes] Pio, devoto. Banál, madásalin. Pip, n. [pip] Pepita. Butó, punglâ. Pip, v. [pip] Piar ciertas aves. Sumyáp. Pipe, n. [páip] Tubo, conducto; pipa para fumar; flauta. Tubo, pádaluyan ng tubig; kwako, pipa; plautá. Pipe, v. [páip] Tocar la flauta. Humihip ng plauta tumugtog ng plauta. Piper, n. [páiper] Flautista, gaitero. Plautista, mánunugtog ng plauta. Piquancy, n. [pícansi] Picante; acrimonia. Sili; angháng. Piquant, adj. [pícant] Picante. Maanghang. Pique, n. [pic] Pique, desazon. Galit, samâ ng loob. Pique, v. [pic] Picar, enojar, ofender. Manggalit, mangyamot. Piracy, n [páirasi] Piratería. Panunulisan sa dagat. Pirate, n. [páiret] Pirata. Tulisang dagat. Piratical, adj. [pairátical] Pirático. Nauukol sa tulisang dagat. Piscary, n. [píscari] Privilegio de la pesca. Kapahintulutan sa pangingisdâ. Piscivorous, adj. [pisívoeroes] Ictiófago. Palakain ng isdâ. Pistol, n. [pístol] Pistola, arma de fuego pequeña y corta. Pistola, rebolber. Pit, n. [pit] Hoyo, sepultura. Hukay, baón. Pit, v. [pit] Poner alguna cosa en un agujero; azuzar á uno para que riña.. Magsilid sa butas, magbaón sa hukay; magbuyó, mag-udlóng. Pitch, n. [pitch] Alquetran. Alkitrán. Pitcher, n. [pícher] Cántaro. Bangâ, pichél. Pitchfork, n. [píchfork] Horca ó percha. Panghakot ng damong tuyô. Pitchy, adj. [píchi] Embreada. Maalkitrán. Piteous, adj. [pítioes] Lastimoso, miserable. Kalunoslunos, kahabaghabag, kawawà. Pitfall, n. [pítfol] Trampa. Hukay na laláng. Pith, n. [piz] Meollo; tuétano. Bálok, ubod. Pitiable, adj. [pítiabl] Lastimoso, sensible. Kahinahinayang, sayang. Pitiful, adj. [pítiful] Lastimoso, sensible; compasivo. Kawawà, kaawàawà; mahabagin. Pitiless, adj. [pítiles] Desapasionado, cruel. Walang awà, walang habag. Pittance, n. [pítans] Pitanza, ración. Limós. Pity, n. [píti] Piedad, misericordia, compasión. Awà, habag, hinayang. Pity, v. [píti] Compadecer; tener lástima. Maawà, mahabag; manghinayang. Pivot, n. [pívoet] Espigón, quicio. Ikirán, kidkiran, ikután, pihitán. Placard, n. [plácard] Aviso al público. Pahayag, patalastas. Placard, v. [plácard] Publicar; fijar en las esquinas alguna noticia de interés público. Magpaunawà, magdikit sa mga langsangan ng pahayag ó paunawà. Place, n. [pleís] Lugar, sitio, paraje. Dako, lugar. Place, v. [pleís] Colocar, poner, fijar, plantar. Maglagay; maglapag. Placid, adj. [plácid] Plácido, apacible. Maamong-loob, tahimik. Plagiarism, n. [plájiarism] Plagio. Panghuhwad, paggaya. Plagiarist, n. [plájiarist] Plagio. Manghuhwad, manggagaya. Plague, n. [pleíg] Peste, plaga, calamidad. Salot, peste, sakunâ. Plague, v. [pleíg] Atormentar, afligir, vejar. Magpahirap, dumalamhatì, umapí. Plain, adj. [pleín] Llano, liso; claro, evidente. Pantay, patag; maliwanag, malinaw. Plain, n. [pleín] Llano en campo ó terreno igual. Kapatagan, dakong pantay, dakong patag. Plaint, n. [plent] Quejido, lamento. Daíng, hibík. Plaintiff, n. [pléntif] Demandador. Tagapagsakdal, ang nagsasakdal. Plaintive, adj. [pléntiv] Lamentoso, dolorido. Paladaíng, palahibik. Plait, n. [plet] Pliegue, el doblez que se hace en la ropa. Lupì, pileges, kunót. Plan, n. [plan] Plan ó modelo de alguna cosa; plano. Anyô, banhay; plano. Plan, v. [plan] Proyectar. Magpanukalà. Plane, adj. [plen] Llano. Yano, patag. Plane, n. [plen] Cepillo. Katam, pangkayas. Plane, v. [plen] Allanar, acepillar. Katamín, kayasin. Planet, n. [plánet] Planeta. Planeta, bandós; malaking bituin. Planetary, adj. [pláneteri] Planetario. Nauukol sa planeta. Plank, n. [plank] Tablon, tabla gruesa. Tabláng makapal. Plank, v. [plank] Entablar, entarimar. Magpalapag, magsahig ng tabla. Plant, n. [plant] Plantar; el asiento del pie. Pananim, halaman; talampakan ng paa. Plant, v. [plant] Planta. Magtanim, magpunlâ ng halaman. Plantain, n. [plánten] Plátano. Saging. Plantation, n. [plantécion] Plantacion. Pananim, bukiran na sinasaka. Planter, n. [plánter] Plantador, cultivador. Magsasaka, mánananim. Plash, n. [plash] Charquillo, lagunajo. Lawà, lamáw, lumbak. Plaster, n. [pláster] Emplasto, medicamento; yeso. Tapal, pangtapal; panglechada. Plaster, v. [pláster] Emplastar; enyesar. Magtapal; maglechada. Plat, v. [plat] Entretejer. Humabi. Plate, n. [pleít] Plato; plancha de metal. Pinggan, putol na metal. Platform, n. [plátform] Plataforma. Palapag, entablado. Platoon, n. [platún] Peloton. Pulutong. Platter, n. [plátter] Fuente, plato grande. Bandehado, pinggang malakí, dinulang. Plaudit, n. [plódit] Aplauso, aclamacion. Papuri, pakpakan. Plausible, adj. [plósibl] Plausible. Kapuripuri, marapat purihin. Play, n. [pley] Juego; representacion dramática; el modo de tocar un instrumento. Larô, palabas-dulaan, tugtog. Play, v. [pley] Jugar, entretener; tocar un instrumento. Maglarô; tumugtog. Player, n. [pléyer] Jugador; tocador, músico. Ang lumalarô, mánunugtog, músiko. Play-fellow, n. [pléy-felo] Compañero de juego. Kalarô. Play-mate, n. [pléy-met] Compañero de juego. Kalarô. Playful, adj. [pléyful] Jugueton, travieso. Malarô, malikot. Playing-cards, n. [pléying-cards] Naipes, cartas. Baraha. Plaything, n. [pléyzing] Juguete. Larúan. Plea, n. [pli] Defensa; excusa; pretexto. Panananggalang, pagmamatwid, dahilan. Plead, v. [plid] Alegar, defender en juicio. Mangatwiran, makipagtalo, mananggalang sa paglilitis. Pleading, n. [plíding] Acto de abogar. Pagmamatwid. Pleasant, adj. [plésant] Delicioso, agradable. Kaayaaya, kalugodlugod. Pleasantry, n. [plézantri] Gusto, chanza. Kaligayahan, kaluguran, kasayahan. Please, v. [plis] Deleitar, agradar. Umalíw, makalugód, magbigay lugod, magbigay-loob. Pleasing, adj. [plísing] Agradable, plancentero. Kalugod-lugod, magiliw, maligayà, mairugín. Pleasure, n. [plésiur] Placer, deleite, satisfaccion. Ligayà, lugod, kasiyahán. Plebeian, adj. & n. [plibíyan] Plebeyo, bajo, vulgar. Mababà, hamak, karaniwan. Pledge, n. [pledch] Prenda; fianza. Lágak, sanglâ, pyansa. Pledge, v. [pledch] Empeñar, dar fianzas. Maglagak, magsanglâ, magpyansa. Plenary, adj. [pléneri] Plenario, entero. Punô, buô, lubós. Plenipotentiary, adj. & n. [plenipoténcieri] Plenipotenciario. Sugò na kinatawan ng isang bansâ. Plenitude, n. [plénitiud] Plenitud. Kalubusan, kapuspusán. Plenteous, adj. [pléntioes] Copioso, abundante. Saganà, marami. Plentiful = plenteous. Plenty, n. [plénti] Copia, abundancia. Dami, kasaganaan. Pleurisy, n. [pliúrisi] Pleuritis, pleuresía. Sakít sa lalamunan. Pliable, adj. [plaiabl] Flexible, dócil, manejable. Sunudsunuran, malumanay, malambot. Pliancy, n. [pláiansi] Flexibilidad. Kalambutan, kalubayan. Pliant, adj. [pláiant] Flexible, blando. Sunudsunuran, malambot. Pliers, n. [pláiers] Alicates. Panipit. Plight, n. [pláit] Prenda, fianza. Sanglâ, lagak. Plod, v. [plod] Afanarse mucho. Manabík, manggagahaman. Plodding, n. [plóding] Trabajo ímprobo. Gawáng walang mápapalâ. Plot, n. [plot] Pedazo pequeño de terreno; conspiracion, trama; plano. Munting pitak ng lupà; panghihimagsik, bantâ; plano, banhay. Plot, v. [plot] Trazar; conspirar; tramar. Magbanhay; manghimagsik; magbantâ. Plough, n. [plau] Arado. Sudsod, araro, pangbungkal ng lupà. Plough, v. [plau] Arar, labrar la tierra. Mag-araro, maglinang, bumungkal ng lupà. Ploughing, n. [pláuing] Labranza. Pag-aararo. Plough-share, n. [pláu-sier] Reja de arado. Suyod, sudsod. Pluck, n. [plac] Arranque, tiron. Hila, batak, balták. Pluck, v. [plac] Tirar con fuerza; arrancar. Humila, bumatak, bumaltak; maghimulmol, pumuti, pumitas. Plucky, adj. [pláki] Gallardo. Makisig, magarà. Plug, n. [ploeg] Tapon, tarugo. Tasak, pasak, tapon, panakip. Plug, v. [ploeg] Atarugar. Tasakan, pasakan, tapunán. Plum, n. [plam] Ciruela. Sirwelas. Plumage, n. [pliúmedch] Plumaje. Balahibo ng mga ibon. Plumb, n. [plamb] Plomada. Pabató. Plumber, n. [plámber] Plomero. Panday-tinggâ. Plumb-line, n. [plámb-lain] Cuerda de plomada. Hulog na pabató. Plume, n. [pliúm] Pluma, plumaje. Pakpak, balahibo. Plump, adj. [plamp] Gordo, rollizo. Matabâ, mabilog. Plump, adj. [plamp] De repente. Pagdaka, karakaraka. Plump, v. [plamp] Engordar, hinchar. Tumabâ, bumilog. Plunder, n. [plánder] Pillage, robo, botín. Nakaw, agaw, násamsam. Plunder, v. [plánder] Saquear, pillar, robar. Mangloob, mangharang, maniil, magnakaw. Plunge, v. [plandch] Sumergirse. Sumisid, sumukbó. Plunger, n. [plándcher] Buzo. Máninisid, buso. Plural, adj. & n. [pliúral] Plural. Plural, mulâ sa bilang na dalawa. Plurality, n. [pliuráliti] Pluralidad. Karamihan, kakapalan. Plus, adv. [plas] Mas. Sakâ; pa. Plush, n. [plash] Triple, tela felpada. Tersiopelo, pelusa. Ply, v. [play] Trabajar con ahinco, afanarse. Magsumakit, magsumikap. Pneumatic, adj. [niumátic] Neumático. Mahangin. Pneumatical = Pneumatic. Pneumonia, n. [niumónia] Neumonia. Pamamagâ ng bagà. Pneumonic, adj. [niumónic] Neumónico. Nauukol sa bagà. Poach, v. [poch] Medio cocer [huevos]. Magmalasado [ng itlog]. Pock, n. [poc] Viruela. Bulutong. Pocket, n. [póket] Bolsillo. Bulsá. Pocket, v. [póket] Embolsar. Ipamulsá. Pocket-book, n. [póket-buk] Cartera, librito de memoria. Kartera, sisidlan ng sulat, ibp. Pocky, adj. [póki] Picado de viruelas. Mabulutong, bulutonggo. Pod, n. [pod] Viena. Suksúkan ng punglô. Poem, n. [póem] Poema. Tulâ. Poet, n. [póet] Poeta. Mánunulâ. Poetess, n. [póetes] Poetisa. Babaing mánunulâ. Poetic, adj. [póetic] Poético. Nauukol sa tulâ. Poetical = Poetic. Poetise, v. [póetais] Poetizar. Tumulâ. Poetry, n. [póetri] Poesía. Tulâ. Poignancy, n. [póinansi] Picante; acrimonia. Anghang, kaanghangan. Poignant, adj. [póinant] Picante; punzante. Maanghang; maantak, mahapdî, makirot. Point, n. [póint] Punta; promontorio; puntillo. Dulo; tulos. Point, v. [póint] Apuntar, adelgazar; señalar, enseñar. Tumudlâ; umapuntá, iturò, daliriin. Point-blank, adv. [póint-blanc] Directamente. Twid na twid, tuloy-tuloy. Pointed, adj. [póinted] Puntiagudo. Matulis. Pointer, n. [póinter] Apuntador. Pangturò, panurò, nagtuturò. Pointless, adj. [póintles] Obtuso, sin punta. Pudpod, walang dulo. Poise, n. [póiz] Equilibrio, contrapeso. Timbang, panimbang. Poise, v. [póiz] Equilibrar, balancear, pesar. Timbangán, panimbangán, manimbang, timbangín. Poison, n. [póizn] Veneno, cualquiera cosa nociva. Lason, kamandag. Poison, v. [póizn] Envenenar, emponzoñar. Lumason, mákamandag. Poisoner, n. [póisoner] Envenenador. Manglalason. Poisoning, n. [póisoning] Envenenamiento. Panglalason. Poisonous, adj. [póizonoes] Venenoso, emponzoñado. Nakakalason, may lason, makamandag. Poke, n. [poc] Barjuleta, saquillo, bolsa. Bayong, supot, bulsa. Poke, v. [poc] Andar á tientas, buscar alguna cosa á oscuras. Kumapâ, umapuhap. Poker, a. [pókoer] Hurgón. Panudlok, pangahig. Polar, adj. [pólar] Polar. Nauukol sa dulong hilagaan. Pole, n. [pol] Polo; palo. Dulong hílagaan; palo. Police, n. [polís] Policía. Pulís. Policeman, n. [polísmoen] Policía. Pulís. Policy, n. [pólisi] Política de estado. Palakad ng pámahalaan. Polish, n. [pólish] Pulimento, bruñido, lustre. Kinis, kintab, buli. Polish, v. [pólish] Pulir, alizar. Bulihin, pakinisin, pakintabin. Polite, adj. [poláit] Pulido, cortés, urbano. Mahinahon, magalang, mapitagan. Politeness, n. [poláitnes] Cortesía, urbanidad. Galang, pitagan. Politic, adj. [pólitic] Político; sagaz, diestro. Polítiko; tuso, matalinò. Political, adj. [polítical] Político; sagaz. Polítiko; tuso. Politician, n. [politícian] Político, estadista. Polítiko, marunong sa lakad ng pámahalaan. Politics, n. [pólitics] Política. Karunungan sa pamamalakad ng pámahalaan. Polity, n. [póliti] Constitucion política. Pamamalakad ng pamahalaan. Polka, n. [pólka] Polca. Polka. Poll, n. [pol] Lista de los que votan en alguna eleccion. Tálaan ng nagsisiboto sa alinmang balalan. Pollen, n. [pólen] Pólen. Bulo [ng bulaklak]. Pollute, v. [poliút] Manchar, corromper. Dumungis, magpahamak, sumirà. Polluter, n. [poliúter] Corruptor. Máninirà. Pollution, n. [poliúcion] Polución, profanacion. Paghamak, paglapastangan. Poltroon, n. [poltrún] Cobarde, tímido. Dwag, matatakutín. Polygamist, n. [políguemist] Polígamo. Nag-asawa ng marami. Polygamy, n. [políguemi] Poligamia. Pag-aasawa ng marami. Polyglot, n. [póliglot] Poligloto. Marunong ng maraming wikà. Pomade, n. [poméd] Pomada. Pomada. Pomatum, n. [pométoem] Pomada. Pomada. Pommel, n. [pómel] Pomo de espada. Tangak, bilog na panangga sa puluhan ng tabak. Pommel, v. [pómel] Cascar. Bumasag, lumahang. Pomp, n. [pomp] Pompa, fausto, esplendor. Kaparangalanan, kahambugán. Pompous, adj. [pómpoes] Pomposo, ostentoso. Mainam, marilag. Pond, n. [pond] Estanque de agua, pantano. Tangké ng tubig, lawà. Ponder, v. [pónder] Ponderar, considerar. Magbulay, magwarì, gumunitâ. Ponderous, adj. [póndoeroes] Ponderoso. Mapagbulay, mapagwarì. Poniard, n. [póniard] Puñal. Punyál, panaksak. Pontiff, n. [póntif] Pontífice, el papa. Papa. Pontifical, adj. [pontífical] Pontifical, pontificio. Nauukol sa papa. Pontificate, n. [pontífiket] Pontificado, papado. Pagkapapa. Pontoon, n. [pontún] Pontón. Punton, bangkang túlayan. Pony, n. [póni] Haca, jaco. Kabayong muntî. Poodle, n. [pudl] Perro de aguas. Asong pangtubig. Pool, n. [pul] Charco, lago. Lawà, dagatdagatan. Poop, n. [pup] Popa. Dakong hulihán ng bapor ó ng sasakyan. Poor, adj. [puár] Pobre, necesitado; infeliz. Mahirap, salat; kawawà. Pop, n. [pop] Chasquido. Putok, lagitik. Pope, n. [pop] Papa. Papa. Popedom, n. [pópdom] Papado. Pagkapapa. Popery, n. [póperi] Papismo. Pananalig sa papa. Popgan, n. [pópgan] Escopetilla con que juegan los muchachos. Patás, pasiblang. Popinjay, n. [pópindche] Loro, papagayo. Loro. Popish, adj. [pópish] Papal. Nauukol sa papa. Populace, n. [pópiules] Populacho. Bunton ng tao. Popular, adj. [pópiular] Popular, amado del pueblo. Kilala, tanyag sa bayan, kinakatigan ng bayan. Popularity, n. [popiuláriti] Popularidad. Pagkatanyag sa bayan. Populate, v. [pópiulet] Poblar, multiplicar. Gawing bayan, paramihin. Population, n. [popiulécioen] Poblacion. Mga tao sa isang pook, bayan ó bansá. Populous, adj. [pópiuloes] Populoso. Matao. Porcelain, n. [pórselen] Porcelana. Porselana. Porch, n. [porch] Pórtico, portal. Pintuang mahabà. Pore, n. [por] Poro. Kilabot (ng balat). Pork, n. [pork] Carne de puerco. Lamán ng baboy, karning baboy. Porker, n. [pórker] Puerco, cochino, marrano. Baboy. Porous, adj. [póroes] Poroso. Butasbutás. Porpoise, n. [pórpois] Puerco marino. Baboybabuyan (hayop-dagat). Port, n. [port] Puerto. Daungán, punduhan ng sasakyan. Portable, adj. [pórtabl] Portatil. Dadálahin, nadádalá. Portage, n. [pórtedch] Porte; conduccion. Bayad; pagdadalá. Portal, n. [pórtal] Portal, portada. Pasukán, pintuan, pintô. Portend, v. [porténd] Pronosticar. Humulà. Portent, n. [portént] Portento, prodigio. Kababalaghan, katakataká. Porter, n. [pórter] Portero. Bantay-pintô, tanod sa pintô. Porterage, n. [pórteredch] Porte. Bayad sa pagdadalá. Portfolio, n. [portfólio] Cartera. Sisidlan ng mga papel. Portion, n. [pórcion] Porcion, parte. Bahagi, putol, hatì. Portion, v. [pórcion] Partir, dividir. Hatiin, bahagihin. Portliness, n. [pórtlines] Porte majestuoso. Kilos mahal, kilos palalò. Portly, adj. [pórtli] Majestuoso, serio. Magarà, magilas, pormál. Portrait, n. [pórtret] Retrato. Retrato. Portray, v. [pórtre] Retratar. Rumetrato. Portress, n. [pórtres] Portera. Babaing bantay-pintô. Pose, v. [pos] Confundir; preguntar. Lumitó, tumulig; tumanong. Poser, n. [póser] Examinador, pregunta que confunde. Manglilitis, tanong na nakalilito. Position, n. [posícion] Posicion, situacion. Lagay, kalagayan; tayô, katayuan. Positive, adj. [pósitiv] Positivo, real. Totoo, tunay. Possess, v. [posés] Poseer, gozar. Magtaglay, magkamít, magtamó, magkaroon. Possession, n. [posésion] Posesión. Pagtataglay, pagkakamít, pagtatamó, pagkakaroon. Possessor, n. [posésor] Poseedor. May-arì, nagtatangkilik. Possibility, n. [posibíliti] Posibilidad. Pangyayari, bisà. Possible, adj. [pósibl] Posible. Maaaring mangyari. Post, n. [post] Poste, correo. Haligi, hulugán ng sulat, korreo. Postage, n. [póstedch] Porte de carta. Bayad sa korreo, bayad sa pagpapadala ng sulat. Postage-stamp, n. [póstedch-stamp] Sello de correo. Selyo ng korreo. Postal, adj. [póstal] Postal. Nauukol sa korreo. Post-card, n. [póst-card] Tarjeta postal. Tarheta postal. Posterior, adj. [postírior] Posterior; trasero. Hulí; sa hulihán, sa pwitan. Posterity, n. [postériti] Posteridad. Inapó, angkán. Postern, n. [póstern] Postigo. Pintuan sa likurán. Posthaste, adv. [postjést] A rienda suelta. Karimot. Postman, n. [póstman] Cartero, correo. Tagapagdalá ng sulat, kartero. Postmark, n. [póstmark] Timbre de posta. Tatak ng sulat. Post-master, n. [póst-master] Administrador de correos. Namamahalá ng korreo. Postmeridian, n. [postmerídian] Postmeridiano. Maka á las dose ng araw hanggang hating gabí. Post-office, n. [post-ófis] Administracion de correos. Káwanihan ng korreo. Postpone, v. [postpón] Posponer, diferir. Ipagpaliban. Postscript, n. [póstscript] Posdata. Habol [sa isang sulat]. Posture, n. [póstiur] Postura. Tayô, lagay. Posy, n. [pósi] Ramillete de flores. Bungkos na bulaklak. Pot, n. [pot] Marmita, olla. Palayok, anglít. Pot, v. [pot] Preservar en marmitas. Tinggalín sa palayok. Potable, adj. [pótabl] Potable. Naiinom. Potage, n. [pótedch] Potaje. Ulam. Potash, n. [pótash] Potasa. Potasa, sosa. Potato, n. [potéto] Patata. Patatas, papas. Potency, n. [pótensi] Potencia, fuerza, poder. Kapangyarihan, lakas. Potent, adj. [pótent] Potente, poderoso. Makapangyarihan. Potentate, n. [pótentet] Potentado. Harì, kápunupunuan. Potential, adj. [poténcial] Potencial. Nauukol sa kapangyarihan. Pother, n. [pódzer] Baraunda, alboroto. Kagulo, kaingáy. Potion, n. [pócion] Pocion, bebida medicinal. Iínuming gamót. Potlid, n. [pótlid] Cobertura de olla. Bungangà ng palayok. Potter, n. [pótter] Alfarero. Magpapalayok. Pottery, n. [póteri] Alfarería. Gáwaan ng palayok. Pouch, n. [póuch] Bolsillo, faltriquera. Supot. Poulterer, n. [pólterer] Gallinero, pollero. Tangkal, kulungán ng manok. Poultice, n. [póltis] Cataplasma. Panapal. Poultice, v. [póltis] Poner una cataplasma. Itapal. Poultry, n. [póltri] Aves caseras. Mga alagang manok. Pounce, n. [páuns] Garra del ave. Kukó ng ibon. Pound, n. [páund] Libra. Librá. Pound, v. [páund] Machacar, moler. Durugin, dikdikín. Pour, v. [poúr] Echar ó vaciar líquidos de una parte en otra. Ibuhos, iligwak. Pout, v. [páut] Enfurruñarse, ponerse ceñudo. Magmungot, magkunót ng noo. Poverty, n. [póverti] Pobreza, miseria. Hirap, kahirapan; kasalatán, dálitâ, karalitaan, karukhaan. Powder, n. [páuder] Polvo; pólvora. Pulbós; pulburá. Powder, v. [páuder] Polvorizar, moler, desmenuzar. Dikdikin, bayuhín, durugin. Power, n. [páwer] Poder, potestad, autoridad. Kapangyarihan. Powerful, adj. [páwerful] Poderoso; eficaz. Makapangyarihan; mabisà. Powerless, adj. [páwerles] Impotente; ineficaz. Walang kapangyarihan, mahinà, walang bisà. Practicability, n. [practicabíliti] Posibilidad de hacer una cosa. Pangyayaring máisagawâ ang anomang bagay. Practicable, adj. [práctikebl] Practicable. Máisasagawâ. Practical, adj. [práctical] Práctico. Bihasá, sanáy. Practice, n. [práctis] Práctica, costumbre. Kabihasahán, kasanayán, pagkahirati. Practice, v. [práctis] Practicar, ejercer. Magsanay, mabihasa, magsagawâ. Prairie, n. [préri] Pradería. Parang. Praise, n. [prez] Alabanza; fama, renombre. Puri, papuri; paunlak, kagitingan, kabantugan. Praise, v. [prez] Aplaudir, alabar. Pumuri, magpaunlak. Praise-worthy, adj. [prés-worzi] Digno de alabanza. Kapuripuri, dapat paunlakan. Prance, v. [prans] Cabriolar. Magluluksó, maglulundág. Prank, n. [prank] Travesura, locura. Kalikutan, kaululán. Prate, n. [pret] Charla. Satsat. Prate, v. [pret] Charlar. Sumatsat. Prattle, n. [prátl] Parlería, charlatanería. Tabíl, katabilan, satsat. Prattle, v. [prátl] Charlar. Magsasatsát. Pray, v. [pre] Orar, rogar, suplicar. Magdasal, manalangin; sumamò, mamanhik. Prayer, n. [préyer] Oracion, súplica, ruego. Dasal, panalangin; samò, pamanhík. Prayer-book, n. [préyer-buk] Libro de devociones, devocionario. Aklat-dásalan. Preach, v. [prich] Predicar. Mangaral, magsermon. Preacher, n. [prícher] Predicador. Tagapangaral, tagapagsermon. Preaching, n. [príching] Predicacion. Pangaral, sermon. Preamble, n. [príambl] Preámbulo. Páuna, paunawà, tagubilin. Prebend, n. [prébend] Prebenda. Upa ó bayad sa kanónigo. Precarious, adj. [prikérioes] Precario, incierto. Dì maasahan. Precaution, n. [pricocion] Precaucion. Ingat, pag-iingat. Precautionary, adj. [pricociéneri] Preventivo. Maingat. Precede, v. [pricíd] Anteceder, preceder. Ipagpauna; umuna. Precedence, n. [prisídens] Precedencia. Pagkauna. Precedent, adj. [prisídent] Precedente, antecedente. Sinundan, náuna. Precept, n. [prísept] Precepto. Utos. Preceptor, n. [pricéptor] Preceptor. Nag-uutos. Precinct, n. [prísinct] Precinto, límite, lindero. Pook, hangganan. Precious, adj. [prícies] Precioso. Mahál, mahalagá. Precipice, n. [présipis] Precipicio, despeñadero. Bingit ng bangin. Precipitate, v. [prisípitet] Precipitar. Sumugba, dumaluhong, magpakabiglâ. Precipitate, adj. [prisípitet] Precipitado. Dalídalì, dalosdalos, pabiglâ. Precipitation, n. [prisipitécion] Precipitacion. Dalos, daluhong, sugbá. Precipitous, adj. [prisípitoes] Precipitoso. Biglangbiglâ. Precise, adj. [prisáis] Preciso; exacto, puntual. Kailangan, karakaraka; ganap. Precision, n. [prisísion] Precision. Pangangailangang karakaraka. Preclude, v. [pricliúd] Prevenir, impedir alguna cosa anticipadamente. Pagpaunahan. Precocious, adj. [pricócioes] Precoz, prematuro, adelantado. Maagap; maaga, dî pa panahon. Precocity, n. [pricóciti] Precocidad. Agap; aga. Preconceive, v. [priconsív] Concebir ó imaginar anticipadamente. Mágunitâ ó gunitain kapagkaraka. Preconcert, v. [priconsért] Concertar, convenir ó estipular de antemano. Makipagkáyarî muna. Precursor, n. [prikúrsor] Precursor. Ang nangunguna. Predecessor, n. [predisésor] Predecesor, antecesor. Ang hinalinhan, ang sinundan. Predestination, n. [predistinécion] Predestinacion. Talagang pagkakaukol kapagkaraka. Pridial, adj. [prídial] Predial. Nauukol sa lupà ó mana. Predicate, v. [prédiket] Afirmar. Magpatunay, magpatotoo. Predication, n. [predikécion] Afirmacion. Pagpapatunay, pagpapatotoo. Predict, v. [pridíct] Predecir, profetizar. Humulà. Prediction, n. [pridíccion] Prediccion. Hulà. Predilection, n. [pridiléccion] Predileccion. Tanging pagmamahal. Preeminence, n. [priéminens] Preeminencia. Karilagan, kasakdalan, kadakilaan. Preeminent, adj. [priéminent] Preeminente. Marilag, sakdal, dakilà. Preface, n. [préfez] Prefacio, prólogo. Paunawà, páunang hiwatig. Prefer, v. [prifér] Preferir. Pumilì, humirang. Preferable, adj. [préferebl] Preferible. Mapipilì. Preference, n. [préferens] Preferencia. Pilì, hirang. Prefix, n. [prífics] Prefijo. Panugpong sa unahan ng salitâ. Prefix, v. [prífics] Prefijar. Iugpong, isugpóng. Pregnancy, n. [prégnansi] Preñez. Kabuntisán, pagbubuntís. Pregnant, adj. [prégnant] Preñada. Buntís. Prejudge, v. [pridchádch] Formar juicio antes del tiempo debido. Hatulan ng dî pa nalilitis. Prejudice, n. [prédchiudis] Perjuicio, detrimento. Kapinsalaan, sirà. Premature, adj. [primatiúr] Prematuro. Walâ pa sa panahon, maaga, maagap. Prematureness, n. [primatiúrnes] Madurez ó sazón ántes de tiempo. Kaagapan. Premeditate, v. [priméditet] Premeditar. Magmunimunì muna. Premeditation, n. [primeditécion] Premeditacion. Bantâ, balà. Premier, adj. [prímier] Primero. Una, panguna. Premium, n. [prímiam] Premio, remuneracion. Gantí, ganting palà, pabuyà. Preoccupation, n. [priokiupécion] Preocupacion [del ánimo]. Pagkalibáng. Preparation, n. [preparécion] Preparacion. Paghahandâ, pag-agap. Preparatory, adj. [pripáratori] Preparatorio. Nakahandâ. Prepare, v. [pripér] Preparar, prevenir; prepararse, disponer. Maghandâ, umagap, humandâ, tumalagá. Preponderance, n. [pripónderans] Preponderancia, superioridad de peso. Pangingibabaw sa kaigihan; kabigatan sa timbang. Preponderate, v. [pripónderet] Preponderar, pesar mas que otro. Mangibabaw sa kaigihan; bumigat kaysa iba. Preposition, n. [prepocícion] Preposicion. Pagkakauna sa lagay. Prepossessing, adj. [preposésing] Atractivo. Magaan ang dugô, mapanghalina ng loob. Preposterous, adj. [pripósteroes] Prepóstero, absurdo. Tiwalî, balintunà. Prerogative, n. [prirógativ] Prerogativa, privilegio exclusivo. Pagkakatangì, kapahintulutang bukod-tangì. Presage, n. [présedch] Presagio; pronóstico. Kutog; hulà. Prescribe, v. [priscráib] Prescribir, ordenar; recetar. Magtakdâ, rumeseta. Prescription, n. [priscrípcion] Prescripcion, receta medicinal. Pagtatakdâ, reseta. Presence, n. [présens] Presencia; talle. Harap, harapán, pagharap; anyô. Present, adj. [présent] Presente, actual. Nakaharap kasalukuyan. Present, n. [présent] Presente, regalo, el don. Kaloob, bigay, regalo, pasalubong. Present, v. [présent] Presentar, dar a conocer; manifestar, mostrar. Ipakilala, iharap; ipahayag, ipakita. Presentable, adj. [priséntabl] Presentable, decente. Máihaharap, máipakikilala, hindî ikahihiyà. Presentation, n. [presentécion] Presentacion. Pagpapakilala. Presentiment, n. [preséntiment] Presentimiento. Kutog ng loob, hinalà, kinikinitá. Preservation, n. [preservécion] Preservacion. Pagtitinggal. Preserve, v. [prisérv] Preservar, guardar, conservar. Magtinggal, mag-ingat. Preside, v. [prisáid] Presidir, dirigir. Mangulo, mamatnugot, mamatnubay. Presidency, n. [présidensi] Presidencia. Pánguluhan, pangulo. President, n. [président] Presidente. Pangulo. Press, n. [pres] Prensa, prensa de impresor. Prinsá; páhayagan; hapitán; limbagan. Press, v. [pres] Aprensar, prensar, apretar. Hapitin, higpitan, diinán. Pressing, adv. [présing] Urgente. Kárakaraka, pagdaka, agad. Pressure, n. [présiur] Prensadura, presion, opresion. Hapit, pag-ipit paghihigpit, pighatì. Presume, v. [prisiúm] Presumir, suponer. Mákinikinita, kutugán [ng loob], sapantahain, hinalain. Presumption, n. [prizémcioen] Presuncion, sospecha. Kinikinita, kutog, sapantahà, hinalà. Presumptive, adj. [prisámtiv] Presuntivo. Nakikinikinita, hinihinalà. Presumptuous, adj. [prisémchiues] Presuntuoso, arrogante. Hambog, magilas. Presuppose, v. [prisupós] Presuponer. Hakain. Presupposition, n. [prisuposícion] Presuposicion. Hakà. Pretence, n. [priténs] Pretexto; pretensión. Dahilan; pagkukunwâ. Pretend, v. [priténd] Presumir, aparentar. Magkunwâ. Pretension, n. [priténcion] Pretensión; pretexto. Pagkukunwâ; dahilán. Preterite, adj. [préterit] Pretérito. Nakaraan. Pretermit, v. [pritérmit] Pasar por alto. Laktawan, hwag pansinin. Pretext, n. [prítecst] Pretexto, motivo. Dahilán, kadahilanan. Pretty, adj. [príti] Lindo, bonito, bello. Magandá, marikit. Prevail, v. [privél] Prevalecer, predominar. Manaig, mangibabaw, manalo, magwagí. Prevailing, adj. [privéling] Predominante. Nananaig, nangingibabaw. Prevalence, n. [prévalens] Predominio, superioridad. Pangingibabaw, pananaig. Prevalent, adj. [prévalent] Superior, predominante. Nangingibabaw, nananaig. Prevaricate, v. [priváriket] Prevaricar, quebrantar la fé. Magkasala, lumabag sa pananalig. Prevarication, n. [privarikécion] Prevaricacion. Pagkakasala, paglabag sa pananalig. Prevaricator, n. [priváriketor] Prevaricador, trasgresor. Salarín, lumalabag sa pananampalataya. Prevent, v. [privént] Prevenir; impedir. Pagpaunahan, paalalahanan; sawatain, pigilin. Prevention, n. [privéncion] Prevención. Páuna, paalala, agap. Preventive, adj. [privéntiv] Preventivo; impeditivo. Páuna, paalala; sawatâ, pigil. Previous, adj. [prívioes] Prévio, anticipado. Páuna. Prey, n. [pre] Botín, presa, pillaje. Nakaw, agaw, kamkam. Prey, v. [pre] Rapiñar, pillar, robar. Dumagit, umagaw, magnakaw. Price, n. [práis] Precio; valor ó estimacion. Halagá, kahalagahán; kabuluhán. Priceless, adj. [práisles] Inapreciable. Dî mahalagahán. Prick, n. [pric] Punzon, aguijon. Durò, tukâ, kagát. Prick, v. [pric] Punzar, picar. Dumurò, manukâ, tumukâ, kumagat. Pricking, n. [príking] Picadura, punzada. Kagat, durò, tukâ. Prickle, n. [prikl] Pua, espina. Tibó, tinik. Prickly, adj. [príkli] Lleno de puas, espinoso. Maraming tibò, matinik. Pride, n. [práid] Orgullo, presuncion, vanidad. Kahambugan, kayabangan, kapalaluan. Pride, v. [práid] Jactarse. Maghambog, magmayabáng, magpalalò. Priest, n. [prist] Sacerdote, presbítero. Parì, saserdote. Priesthood, n. [prístjud] Sacerdocio. Pagkaparì, pagkasaserdote. Prig, n. [prig] Mozuelo presumido, pisaverde. Pangahas, switik, tekas. Prig, v. [prig] Hurtar, ratear. Magnakaw, nanekas. Priggish, adj. [prígish] Algo presumido. May kayabangan. Prim, adj. [prim] Peripuesto. Mapagmakisig. Primacy, n. [práimasi] Primacia. Kaunahan, kalamangán. Primary, adj. [práimari] Primario, primero. Una. Primate, n. [práimet] Primado. Panguna. Prime, adj. [práim] Primero; primoroso, excelente. Una; mainam, maigi. Prime, n. [práim] La primera de la vida. Kasikatan sa pamumuhay. Primer, n. [prímer] Cartilla para los niños. Abakadahán, kartilya. Primeval, adj. [praimíval] Primitivo, original. Káunaunahan, nauukol sa unang panahon. Primitive, adv. [prímitiv] Primitivo. Una. Prince, n. [prins] Príncipe; soberano, monarca. Prínsipe, anák ng harì; harì. Princess, n. [prínses] Princesa. Prinsesa, anák na babae ng harì. Princely, adj. [prínsli] Semejante á un príncipe. Parang prínsipe. Principal, adj. [prínsipal] Principal. Pangulo, panguna. Principal, n. [prínsipal] Principal, jefe. Pangulo, punò. Principality, n. [prinsipáliti] Principado; soberanía. Sakop ng prínsipe; saklaw ng harì. Principally, adv. [prínsipali] Principalmente. Lalong lalo na. Principle, n. [prínsipl] Principio, causa primitiva. Simulâ, símulain, pinagmulán, pinagbuhatan. Print, n. [print] Impresion; marca, señal huella. Limbag; bakás, tandâ. Print, v. [print] Imprimir, estampar. Lumimbag; ikintal. Printer, n. [prínter] Impresor. Manglilimbag. Printing-house, n. [prínting-jaus] Imprenta. Limbagan, pálimbagan. Prior, adj. [práior] Anterior, antecedente. Náuna. Prior, n. [práior] Prior. Punong parè, prior. Prioress, n. [práiores] Priora. Priora, pangulong madre. Prison, n. [prízn] Prision, cárcel. Bílangguan, bilibid. Prisoner, n. [prísoner] Preso; prisionero. Bilanggô; bihag. Private, adj. [práivet] Secreto, privado, particular. Lihim, lingid, bukod, hiwalay. Private, n. [práivet] Soldado raso. Kawal. Privateer, n. [praivetír] Corsario. Sasakyan ng mga tulisang-dagat. Privation, n. [praivécion] Privación, carencia. Pagbabawà, kasalatán. Privilege, n. [príviledch] Privilegio, prerogativa. Pagkatangì, katangian; kapahintulutan, pahintulot. Privilege, v. [príviledch] Privilegiar. Magpahintulot. Privy, adj. [prívi] Privado, secreto. Lihim, lingíd. Prize, n. [práiz] Premio, recompensa. Ganting palà, kaloob, pabuyà. Prize, v. [práiz] Apreciar, valuar. Halagahán, bigyan ng kabuluhan. Probability, n. [probabíliti] Probabilidad. May pangyayari. Probable, adj. [próbabl] Probable. Maaaring mangyari, kaypalà. Probably, adv. [probabli] Probablemente. Marahil, kaypalà. Probate, n. [próbet] Prueba, verificacion de los testamentos. Katunayan, katibayan na pamana. Probation, n. [probécion] Noviciado. Kalagayang sinusubok, pagkabaguhan. Probationer, n. [probécioner] Novicio. Baguhan. Probe, n. [prob] Tienta. Kasangkapang panglitis ng sugat. Probity, n. [próbiti] Probidad, honradez, sinceridad. Pagtatapat, karangalan, bait. Problem, n. [próblem] Problema. Paláisipan. Problematic, adj. [problemátic] Problemático. Palaisipan. Problematical = Problematic. Proboscis, n. [probósis] Probócide. Ilong ng hayop. Procedure, n. [procídiur] Proceder, conducta; procedimiento. Asal, ugalì; pamamalakad, palakad, pamamaraan. Proceed, v. [prosíd] Proceder, ir adelante, adelantar. Magpatuloy, magtuloy, mangulo, máuna, sumulong. Proceeding, n. [procíding] Procedimiento, proceso. Pamamalakad, pamamaraan. Process, n. [próces] Proceso, trámite judicial. Paglitis [sa hukuman]. Procession, n. [prosécion] Procesión. Prusisyon. Proclaim, v. [proclém] Proclamar, promulgar, publicar. Itanyag, ihayag, ipatalastas. Proclamation, n. [proclamécion] Proclamacion; bando. Pagtatanyag, paghahayag, pagpapatalastas. Proclivity, n. [proclíviti] Propension, proclividad. Hilig, kiling. Procrastinate, v. [procrástinet] Procrastinar, dilatar. Papaglwatin, papagtagalin. Procrastination, n. [procrastinécion] Dilacion, tardanza. Lwat, tagál. Procumbent, adj. [prokambent] Postrado. Lugmók. Procuration, n. [prokiurécion] Procuracion. Sikap, masákit. Procure, v. [prokiúr] Procurar. Magsumikap, magsumakit. Procurement, n. [prokiúrment] Procuracion. Sikap, sipag. Prodigal, adj. [pródigal] Pródigo. Alibughâ, burarâ aksayá. Prodigality, n. [prodigáliti] Prodigalidad. Kaalibughaan, kaburaraán pag-aaksaya. Prodigious, adj. [prodídches] Prodigioso, portentoso. Kagilagilalas, katakataká. Prodigy, n. [pródichi] Prodigio. Kagilagilalas na bagay. Produce, v. [prodiús] Producir, engendrar, criar. Magbunga, mamunga, lumikhâ, lumalang, maglitaw. Produce, n. [prodiús] Producto, ganancia. Bunga, tubò, pakinabang. Product, n. [pródact] Producto, produccion, obra. Bunga, kathâ, akdâ. Production, n. [prodáccion] Produccion, producto. Kathâ, akdâ, bunga. Productive, adj. [prodáctiv] Productivo. Namumunga, napapakinabangan. Profanation, n. [profanécion] Profanacion. Kalapastanganan, paglapastangan. Profane, adj. [profén] Profano. Hindî banal. Profane, v. [profén] Profanar. Lumapastangan, pumasláng. Profess, v. [profés] Profesar, ejercer, declarar. Máukol, manungkol, magpahayag. Profession, n. [profésion] Profesión. Katungkulan, hanap-buhay. Professional, adj. [profésional] Lo que tiene relacion con una profesion particular. May kinalaman sa gayong hanap-buhay. Professor, n. [profésor] Profesor. Guró, propesor. Proffer, n. [prófer] Oferta. Kaloob, alok, handog. Proffer, v. [prófer] Proponer; ofrecer. Magpalagay; maghandog. Proficiency, n. [profíciensi] Adelantamiento, progreso. Pagkasulong. Proficient, adj. [profícient] Proficiente, adelantado. Masulong, may kinatututuhan. Profit, n. [prófit] Ganancia, utilidad ó interes pecuniario. Pakinabang, tubò. Profit, v. [prófit] Aprovechar, ganar, lucrar. Makinabang, magtubò. Profitable, adj. [prófitabl] Util, productivo, lucrativo. Nápapakinabangan, matubò. Profitless, adj. [prófitles] Inutil, sin provecho. Walang kabuluhan, dî nápapakinabangan. Profligacy, n. [prófliguesi] Perversidad, corrupcion. Kabalakyutan, kabulukán, kasiraan. Profligate, adj. [prófliguet] Licencioso, perdido. Pangahas, mahalay, masamâ, hamak, walang hiyâ. Profound, adj. [profáund] Profundo. Malalim. Profoundnenss, n. [profáundnes] Profundidad. Lalim. Profundity, n. [profúnditi] Profundidad, hondura. Kalaliman, lalim. Profuse, adj. [profiús] Profuso, abundante. Saganà, marami. Profusion, n. [profiúsion] Profusion, abundancia. Kasaganaan, karamihan. Progenitor, n. [pródchenitor] Progenitor. Kanunuan. Progeny, n. [pródcheni] Progenie, casta. Lahì, angkan. Prognostic, adj. [prognóstic] Pronóstico. Hulà. Prognosticate, v. [prognóstiket] Pronosticar. Humulà. Prognostication, n. [prognostikécion] Pronosticacion, pronóstico. Hulà. Program, n. [prógram] Programa. Programa, patakaran. Programme = Program. Progress, n. [prógres] Progreso, adelantamiento. Pagkasulong. Progress, v. [prógres] Progresar. Sumulong; umigi. Progression, n. [progrésion] Progresion, adelantamiento. Pagkasulong. Progressive, adj. [progrésiv] Progresivo. Bumubuti, umiigi, patuloy ng pagkasulong, masulong. Prohibit, v. [projíbit] Prohibir, vedar. Magbawal, magbawà, sawayin. Prohibition, n. [projibícion] Prohibicion. Pagbabawal. Project, n. [pródchect] Proyecto, idea. Balak, akalà, panukalà. Project, v. [pródchect] Proyectar, trazar. Bumalak, magmunukalà. Projectile, n. [prodchéctil] Proyectil. Bala ng kanyon. Projection, n. [prodchéccion] Lanzamiento; proyecto. Ilandang; balak. Prolific, adj. [prolífic] Prolífico, fertil. Namumunga, mabunga. Prolix, adj. [prólics] Prolijo, difuso. Mahabà, matagal, malwat, mabagal. Prolixity, n. [prolícsiti] Proligidad. Habà, tagal, lwat, bagal. Prologue, n. [prólog] Prólogo. Paunawà. Prolong, v. [prolóng] Prolongar, dilatar, extender. Pahabain, palawigin. Prolongation, n. [prolonguécion] Prolongacion, dilacion. Habà, lawig. Prominence, n. [próminens] Prominencia. Kasakdalan, karilagan, kadakilaan. Prominent, adj. [próminent] Prominente. Sakdal, marilag, dakilà. Promiscuous, adj. [promískiuoes] Promiscuo. Halohalò, walang ayos. Promise, n. [prómis] Promesa. Pangakò. Promise, v. [prómis] Prometer. Mangakò. Promontory, n. [promóntori] Promontorio. Tagudtod, burol. Promote, v. [promót] Promover, adelantar. Itaas, iasenso. Promotion, n. [promócion] Promocion. Pagkakataas, asenso. Prompt, adj. [prompt] Pronto, veloz. Maliksí, madalî, matulin. Prompt, v. [prompt] Sugerir, insinuar. Mag-udyok, mag-ulók. Promptitude, n. [prómptitiud] Prontitud, presteza. Dalî, tulin. Promptness = Promptitude. Promulgate, v. [promúlguet] Promulgar. Magtanyag, maghayag. Promulgation, n. [promulguécion] Promulgacion. Pagtatanyag, paghahayag. Prone, adj. [pron] Prono, echado boca abajo. Padapâ, pasubsob. Prong, n. [prong] Pua. Pangdurò, matulis. Pronounce, v. [pronáuns] Pronunciar, recitar. Magbigkas, bumigkas. Pronunciation, n. [pronunciécion] Pronunciacion. Bigkas, badya. Proof, n. [pruf] Prueba; primeras muestras de la composición tipográfica. Katunayan, katotohanan; prueba sa limbagin. Prop, n. [prop] Puntal; apoyo, sosten. Tulos, tukod; suhay, alalay. Prop, v. [prop] Apuntalar; sostener. Magtulos; umalalay. Propagate, v. [própaguet] Propagar. Magkalat, magsiwalat, magpalaganap. Propagation, n. [propaguécion] Propagacion. Pagkakalat, pagsisiwalat, pagpapalaganap. Propel, v. [propél] Impeler. Magtulak, magbuyó. Propension, n. [propénsion] Propension, tendencia. Tungo, layon. Propensity = Propension. Proper, adj. [próper] Propio, conveniente. Bagay, akmâ, dapat, marapat. Property, n. [próperti] Propiedad, derecho de posesion. Pag-aarì, arì. Prophecy, n. [prófesi] Profecía. Hulà. Prophesy, v. [prófesai] Profetizar. Humulà, manghulà. Prophet, n. [prófet] Profeta. Propeta, manghuhulà. Prophetic, adj. [profétic] Profético. Nauukol sa hulà. Prophetical = Prophetic. Propitiate, v. [propíciet] Propiciar, ablandar, conciliar. Papaglubagin ang galit, palamigin ang loob. Propitiation, n. [propiciécion] Propiciacion. Pagpapalubag ng galit, pagpapalamig ng loob. Propitious, adj. [propícioes] Propicio; favorable. Maawain, mahabagin; mabuting pagkakataon. Proportion, n. [propórcion] Proporción. Kabagayán, kaukulán. Proportion, v. [propórcion] Proporcionar. Isaayos ng ayon sa kaukulán. Proportional, adj. & n. [propórcional] Proporcional. Ayon sa nauukol, katamtaman. Proposal, n. [propósal] Propuesta, proposición. Palagáy, turing. Propose, v. [propóz] Proponer. Magpalagay, magturing. Proposition, n. [proposícion] Proposicion. Palagáy, mungkahì. Propound, v. [propáund] Proponer. Magpahayag [ng isang mungkahì]. Proprietor, n. [propráitor] Propietario. May-arì. Proprietress, n. [propráitres] Propietaria. Babaing may-arì. Propriety, n. [propráiti] Propiedad. Pag aarì. Prorogation, n. [proroguécion] Prorrogacion. Pataan, palugid. Proscribe, v. [proscráib] Proscribir, reprobar. Itakwil, itiwalag. Proscription, n. [proscrípcion] Proscripcion. Pagtatakwil, pagtitiwalag. Prose, n. [pros] Prosa. Sulat túluyan. Prosecute, v. [prósikiut] Querellarse ante el juez. Isakdal, ihablá. Prosecution, n. [prosikiúcion] Querella. Sakdal, hablá. Prosecutor, n. [prósikiutor] Acusador. Tagapagsakdal, tagahabla. Proselyte, n. [prósilait] Prosélito. Kakampí, kaayon. Prospect, n. [próspect] Perspectiva. Tánawin. Prospect, v. [próspect] Mirar adelante. Tanawín. Prospectus, n. [prospéctoes] Prospecto. Banhay, plano. Prosper, v. [prósper] Prosperar. Bumuti ang kalagayan, guminghawa. Prosperity, n. [prospériti] Prosperidad, felicidad. Kabutihan ng lagay, kaginghawahan. Prosperous, adj. [prósperoes] Próspero, feliz, dichoso. Mabuti ang kalagayan, maginghawa, mapalad. Prostitute, n. [próstitiut] Prostituta. Masamang babae, puta, patutot. Prostitute, v. [próstitiut] Prostituir. Magputa. Prostitution, n. [prostitiúcion] Prostitucion. Pagpuputa. Prostrate, adj. [próstret] Postrado, humillado. Nangangayupapà, nagpapakababà. Prostrate, v. [próstret] Postrar, derribar. Magpangayupapà, maglugmok. Prostration, n. [prostrécion] Postracion. Pangangayupapà. Protect, v. [protéct] Proteger, amparar. Umampon, kumupkop, tumangkilik, lumingap, tumingin, mag-andukhâ. Protection, n. [protéccion] Proteccion. Lingap, andukhâ, kalingâ, ampon. Protector, n. [protéctor] Protector. Tagakupkop, taga-ampon, tagalingap tagakalingâ, tagapag-andukhâ. Protest, n. [protést] Protesta. Tutol. Protest, v. [protést] Protestar. Tumutol. Protestant, adj. & n. [prótestant] Protestante. Protestante, ang tumututol. Protestation, n. [protestécion] Protestacion, protesta. Tutol; pangakong matibay. Protocol, n. [prótocol] Protocolo. Isa sa mga aklat ng katibayan ng escribano. Protomartyr, n. [protómartir] Protomartir. Ang unang martir. Prototype, n. [prótotaip] Prototipo. Ang unang tipo ó titík ó molde. Protract, v. [protráct] Alargar, prolongar, dilatar. Pahabain, papaglwatin, papagtagalín. Protraction, n. [protráccion] Prolongacion, dilatacion. Habà, lwat, tagal, laon. Protrude, v. [protriúd] Empujar, impeler. Magtulak, magsulong; magbuyó, magbudlong. Protuberance, n. [protiúberans] Protuberancia, prominencia. Umbok, uslî, bukol, pamamagâ. Protuberant, adj. [protiúberant] Prominente, saliente. Nakaumbok, nakauslî. Proud, adj. [práud] Soberbio, orgulloso, altivo. Palalò, mapagmataas, mapagmalakí. Prove, v. [pruv] Probar, experimentar; justificar. Subukin tikman, patunayan, patotohanan. Provender, n. [próvender] Provision de heno y grano para el ganado. Pagkain ng hayop. Proverb, n. [próverb] Proverbio, adagio. Kawikaan, kasabihán, bukang-bibíg. Proverbial, adj. [provérbial] Proverbial. Bukang-bibíg, nauukol sa kawikaan. Provide, v. [prováid] Proveer, prevenir; abastecer, surtir, suministrar. Magtaan, maglaan, maghandâ; magbigay ng kailangan. Provided, conj. [provaíded] Con tal que. Pasubalì. Providence, n. [próvidens] Providencia; prevision. Talagá; handâ, laan. Provident, adj. [próvident] Próvido, providente; cuidadoso, circunspecto, prudente. Maingat, maagap, mabait. Providential, adj. [providéncial] Providencial, casual. Nagkataon, dî akalain. Province, n. [próvins] Provincia. Lalawigan. Provincial, adj. [províncial] Provincial. Nauukol sa lalawigan. Provision, n. [provísion] Provision, víveres, bastimentos. Baon, handâ, laan, pagkain. Provisional, adj. [provícional] Provisional. Pangsamantalà. Provisionally, adv. [provísionali] Provisionalmente. Samantalà. Proviso, n. [prováiso] Caucion; estipulacion. Pag-iingat; sálitaan, káyarian. Provocation, n. [provokécion] Provocacion. Aglahì, hamon. Provoke, v. [provóc] Provocar, excitar, incitar. Umaglahì, manggalit, humamon. Prow, n. [prau] Proa. Dulo ng sasakyán. Prowess, n. [práues] Proeza, hazaña. Tapang, katapangan, pamamayani. Prowl, v. [prául] Andar en busca de pillaje, rapiñar. Mangharang, maniil. Prowler, n. [práuler] Ladron; estafador. Magnanakaw, tulisán; mangwawaldás ng salapî ng ibá. Proximate, adj. [prócsimet] Próximo, inmediato. Malapit, kalapít, karatig, kapanig. Proximity, n. [procsímiti] Proximidad, inmediacion. Lapit, kalapitan. Proxy, n. [prócsi] Procuracion; procurador. Ingat ng pamamaraan sa usapín; tagalakad sa ikagagaling ng usapín. Prudence, n. [prúdens] Prudencia, discrecion. Baít, kabaitan; hinahon, ingat. Prudent, adj. [prúdent] Prudente, discreto; circunspecto. Mabaít, mahinahon; maingat. Prudential, adj. [prudéncial] Prudencial, juicioso. Mabait, mahinahon, maingat. Prune, v. [prun] Podar, quitar las ramas superfluas de los arboles y plantas. Kumapon ng halaman; mag-alís ng mga sangang dî kailangan. Pruning-hook, n. [prúning-juk] Podadero. Pangkarit ng dahon at sanga ng kahoy. Pruning-knife = Pruning-hook. Pry, v. [pray] Espiar, acechar. Tumiktik, manubok. Psalm, n. [salm] Salmo. Salmo, awit simbahan, awit sa Pg. Dyos. Psalmist, n. [sálmist] Salmista. Ang tagaakdâ ó taga-awit ng salmo. Psalter, n. [sálter] Salterio; libro de salmos. Salteryo ó instrumento na tila alpá; aklat ng mga salmo. Psychology, n. [sicólodchi] Psicología, ciencia ó tratado del alma. Karunungan tungkol sa kálulwa. Pseudonym, n. [siúdonim] Seudónimo. Pangalang dî tunay, pangapangalanan. Pshaw, int. [cho] Fuera! quita!. Sulong! alís! Puberty, n. [piúberti] Pubertad. Kabagungtauhan; kadalagahan. Public, adj. [páblic] Público, notorio, patente. Hayag, litaw, tanyag. Public, n. [páblic] Público, el común del pueblo. Bayan, madlâ, mga tao. Publican, n. [páblican] Publicano, tabernero; posadero. Mániningil ng bwis sa Roma; ang nagtitindá ng alak; may pátuluyang bahay. Publication, n. [pablikécion] Publicacion, edicion. Paghahayag, pagtatanyag. Publicist, n. [páblicist] Publicista. Mánunulat ó marunong ng pamamalakad sa bayan. Publicity, n. [pábliciti] Publicidad. Pagkahayag, pagkatanyag. Publish, v. [pablish] Publicar. Maghayag, mágtanyag, mag-ulat. Pucker, n. [páker] Pliegue. Pileges, kulubót, kunót. Pucker, v. [páker] Arrugar, hacer pliegues. Mamileges, mangulubót, mangunót. Puddle, n. [padl] Lodazal, cenagal. Putik, lamáw, lumbak. Puddle, v. [padl] Enlodar; enturbiar el agua con lodo. Papagputikin; labukawin. Pudicity, n. [piudísiti] Pudor, modestia. Hinhín hinahon, bait. Puerile, adj. [piúeril] Pueril. Parang batà, tila batà. Puerility, n. [piueríliti] Puerilidad. Kalagayang batà. Puff, n. [paf] Resoplido, bufido, soplo. Hihip ng hangin. Puff, v. [paf] Hinchar, inflar ó llenar alguna cosa de aire. Papintugin, punuin ng hangin. Pugilism, n. [piúdchilizm] Pugilismo ó pugilato. Suntukan, babag. Pugilist, n. [piúdchilist] Púgil. Mánununtok, marunong manuntok. Pugnacious, adj. [pugnécios] Pugnaz, belicoso. Palaaway, mapagbasag-ulo, basag-ulero. Pug-nose, n. [pugnóz] Nariz chata. Charát, ilong na charát. Puke, n. [piuk] Vomitivo. Pangpasuka. Puke, v. [piuk] Vomitar. Sumuka, magsuká. Pule, v. [piul] Piar; gemir. Sumyáp; humibik, dumaing. Puling, n. [piúling] Gemido. Hibik, daíng. Pull, n. [pul] Tirón, estiron. Hila, batak, balták, biwas. Pull, v. [pul] Tirar, atraer hácia sí con violencia; arrancar; coger. Humila, bumatak, bumaltak, bumiwas. Pullet, n. [púlet] Polla. Dumalaga, manók. Pulley, n. [púli] Polea, garrucha. Kalô. Pulmonary, adj. [pulmóneri] Pulmoniáco. Nauukol sa bagà. Pulmonic = Pulmonary. Pulpit, n. [púlpit] Púlpito. Púlpito, táyuan ng nagsesermon. Pulsate, v. [púlset] Pulsar, latir. Tumibok. Pulsation, n. [pulsécion] Pulsacion, latido. Tibok, kibót kabá, kutóg. Pulse, n. [poels] Pulso. Pulsó, tibok. Pulse, v. [poels] Pulsar. Pumulsó. Pulverization, n. [pulverizécion] Pulverizacion. Pagdurog, pagdikdik. Pulverize, v. [púlveraiz] Pulverizar. Dumurog, dumikdik. Pump, n. [pamp] Bomba. Bomba. Pumpkin, n. [pámpkin] Calabaza. Kalabasa. Pun, n. [pan] Equívoco, chiste. Bugtong, sisté. Punch, n. [panch] Punzón; ponche. Pangdurò, pangsurot, pangbutas; ponche. Punch, v. [panch] Punzar, horadar con punzon. Umulos, sumundot, dumurò, bumutas. Puncheon, n. [pánchin] Punzon. Pangbutas. Punctual, adj. [púnctiual] Puntual, exacto. Ganap sa oras, maagap. Punctuality, n. [punctiuáliti] Puntualidad, exactitud. Kaganapan, kaagapan. Puncture, n. [púnctiur] Puntura. Durò, saksak, sugat. Pungency, n. [púndchensi] Acrimonia, picante. Anghang, saklap, askad. Pungent, adj. [púndchent] Picante, mordaz, áspero. Maanghang, masaklap, maaskad. Punish, v. [panísh] Castigar, penar. Parusahan, papagdusahin. Punishable, adj. [paníshabl] Punible. Maparurusahan. Punishment, n. [pánishment] Castigo, pena. Parusa, dusa. Punster, n. [púnster] Jugador de vocablos, dichero. Sistidor, palabiró. Punter, n. [púnter] El que apunta ó pone dinero á las cartas en ciertos juegos. Mánanayà sa sugal. Puny, adj. [piúni] Débil, pequeño. Mahinà, muntî. Pup, n. [pap] Cachorrillo, cachorrito. Tuta. Pupil, n. [piúpil] Discípulo. Alagad, nag-áaral. Pupilage, n. [piúpiledch] Pupilaje. Paninirahan sa mga bahay na pánuluyanan. Puppet, n. [pápet] Títere, muñeco. Manyikà. Puppy, n. [pápi] Cachorro. Tuta. Purblind, adj. [párblaind] Miope, corto de vista. Súlipin, malabò ang matá. Purchase, n. [parchés] Compra. Pamimilí. Purchase, v. [parchés] Comprar, mercar. Mamilí. Purchaser, n. [párcheser] Comprador. Mámimili. Pure, adj. [piur] Puro, limpio; casto. Taganas, pulos, dalisay, wagas, malinis. Purgation, n. [purguécion] Purgacion. Pagpurgá. Purgative, adj. [púrgativ] Purgativo, purgante. Purga, nakapupurgá. Purgatory, n. [púrgatori] Purgatorio. Purgatoryo. Purge, n. [purdch] Purga. Purgá. Purge, v. [purdch] Purgar, purificar, limpiar. Purgahín, linisin. Purification, n. [piurifikécion] Purificacion. Paglilinis. Purify, v. [piúrifay] Purificar, limpiar. Linisin; maglinis. Purity, n. [piúriti] Pureza; castidad, limpieza. Kawagasan, kadalisayan; kalinisan. Purl, n. [parl] Murmullo. Lagaslas [ng batis]. Purlieu, n. [párliu] Comarca; límite, lindero. Nayon, pook; hanggan, hangganan. Purlin, n. [párlin] Viga. Anamán. Purloin, v. [parlóin] Hurtar, robar. Umumít, magnakaw. Purple, adj. [parpl] Purpúreo. Mapulá. Purple, n. [parpl] Púrpura. Damit na kulay pulang-dugô. Purport, n. [párport] Designio; sentido, tenor de algun escrito. Bantâ, panukalà; kahulugan. Purport, v. [párport] Significar; designar. Magkahulugan; magtalagá, magtakdâ. Purpose, n. [párpos] Intencion, designio, proyecto. Nasà, nais, hakà, panukalà, bantâ, hangad. Purpose, v. [párpos] Proponer, formar una resolucion. Magpalagáy, magmungkahì. Purse, n. [pars] Bolsa. Bulsá, supot. Purse, v. [pars] Embolsar. Ipamulsa. Purse-proud, adj. [pars-praud] Plutocrático, dícese del que tiene mucho orgullo por ser rico. Palalò, [dahil sa kayamanan]. Pursuance, n. [parsiúans] Prosecucion, continuacion. Pagkakasunod. Pursuant, adj. [parsiúant] Hecho en consecuencia de alguna cosa. Alinsunod, ayon. Pursue, v. [parsiú] Perseguir; seguir, acusar. Humabol, mamuntot, manunód. Pursuit, n. [parsiút] Perseguimiento, persecucion. Habol, paghabol. Pursy, adj. [pársi] Asmático. Híkain. Purulent, adj. [piúrulent] Purulento. Nagnananà, may nanà. Purvey, v. [parvé] Proveer, abastecer, suministrar. Magtaan, maghandâ, magbaon, magbigay. Purview, n. [párviu] Condicion, estipulacion. Káyarian, kásunduan. Pus, n. [pus] Pus, materia pútrida de las úlceras, etc.. Nanà. Push, n. [push] Empujon, esfuerzo. Tulak, tabig, sagasà. Push, v. [push] Empujar, estrechar, impeler con fuerza hácia adelante. Manulak, manabig, rumagasá, managasà. Pushing, adj. [púshing] Emprendedor. Mapagsimulâ. Pusillanimity, n. [piusilanímiti] Pusilanimidad, timidez excesiva. Kadwagán, katakutan, kadunguan. Pusillanimous, adj [piúsilanimoes] Pusilánime, cobarde. Dwag, dungô. Puss, n. [pus] Voz de cariño para el gato. Ming, tawag sa pusà. Pussy = Puss. Pustule, n. [péstiul] Pústula, grano. Bukol. Put, v. [put] Poner, colocar. Maglagay, maglapag. Putrefaction, n. [piutrífaccion] Putrefaccion, corrupcion. Pagkabulok, pagkasirà. Putrefy, v. [piútrifai] Pudrir, pudrirse. Mabulok, masirà. Putrid, adj. [piútrid] Podrido, corrompido. Bulók, sirâ. Putridity, n. [piutríditi] Pudredumbre. Kabulukan. Puzzle, n. [pazl] Embarazo, embrollo; perplejidad. Sagabal, kapansanan; kaguluhan ng isip. Puzzle, n. [pazl] Acertijo, enigma. Panglito; bugtong, bugtungan. Puzzle, v. [pazl] Embrollar, enredar, confundir. Mangguló, manglito, lumito, lumigalig. Pygmy, n. [pígmi] Pigmeo. Pandak, unano, pinineo. Pyre, n. [páir] Pira, hoguera. Sigâ. Pyromancy, n. [páiromansi] Piromancia. Panghuhulà sa pamamagitan ng apoy. Pyrotechny, n. [pírotecni] Pirotecnia. Karunungan sa mga kwites. Python, n. [pízon] Pitón. Sawá. Pyx, n. [pics] Píxide, copón. Munting kaha na sisidlan; ang kupon na pinaglalagakan ng Santísimo Sakramento. Q Quack, n. [cuác] Curandero. Manggagamot na dî nag-aral, arbularyo. Quack, v. [cuác] Graznar como un pato. Humuning parang pato ó itik. Quackery, n. [cuákeri] Charlatanería, habladuría. Satsát, kahig ng salitaan, tabíl. Quadragesima, n. [cuodrajésima] Cuadragésima. Kurismá. Quadragesimal, adj. [cuodrajésimal] Cuadragesimal. Ikaapat na pù; nauukol sa kurismá. Quadrangle, n. [cuódrangl] Cuadrángulo. Ang may apat na sulok ó panulukan. Quadrate, adj. [cuódret] Cuadro, cuadrado. Parisukat. Quadratic, adj. [cuodrátic] Lo que pertenece al cuadro ó cuadrado. Nauukol sa parisukat. Quadrennial, adj. [cuodrénial] Cuadrienal; lo que sucede una vez cada cuatro años. Ang bawa't ikaapat na taón. Quadrilateral, adj. [cuodriláteral] Cuadrilátero. Aapating gilid at panulukan. Quadrille, n. [cadríl] Contradanza, rigodon. Rigodon. Quadroon, n. [cuodrón] Cuarterón. Ang ikapat na bahagi ng anoman. Quadruped, n. [cuódriuped] Cuadrúpedo. May apat na paa. Quadruple, adj. [cuódriupl] Cuádruplo. Makaapat na ibayo ó doble. Quadruplicate, v. [cuodriúpliket] Cuadruplicar. Papag-apating ibayo ó doble. Quaff, v. [cuaf] Beber á grandes tragos. Lumagok. Quagmire, n. [cuágmair] Tremedal. Lumbak. Quaggy, adj. [cuágui] Pantanoso. Malatì, malabón. Quail, n. [cuel] Codorniz. Pugò. Quaint, adj. [cuent] Pulido, exquisito. Mainam, maigi. Quake, v. [cuec] Temblar, tiritar. Manginíg, mangaligkíg, mangaykay, mangatal. Quaker, n. [cuéker] Cuácaro. Kuákaro [isang pangkating protestante]. Qualification, n. [cuolifikécion] Calificacion. Pag-urì; surì; buti ó samâ. Qualify, v. [cuólifai] Calificar. Uriin; suriin. Quality, n. [cuóliti] Calidad, la propiedad natural de una cosa. Kalidad, urì, likas. Qualm, n. [cuam] Desfallecimiento, desmayo. Panglulupaypay, panglulumó. Qualmish, adj. [cuámish] Desfallecido, lánguido. Lupaypay, lumó. Quandary, n. [cuónderi] Incertidumbre, duda. Agam-agam, pag-aalangán. Quantity, n. [cuóntiti] Cantidad. Dami. Quarantine, n. [cuorantín] Cuarentena. Kwarentenas. Quarrel, n. [cuórrel] Quimera, pendencia, riña. Basag-ulo, babag, away, káalitan, kágalitan. Quarrel, v. [cuórrel] Reñir, pelear. Makipagbasag-ulo, makipag-away, makipagbabág. Quarrelsome, adj. [cuórrelsam] Pendenciero, quimerista. Palaaway, mapagbasag-ulo. Quarry, n. [cuórri] Cantera, el sitio de donde se saca piedra para labrar. Tíbagan. Quarryman, n. [cuórriman] Cavador de cantera. Máninibag ng bató. Quarter, n. [cuórter] Cuarto; trimestre; cuartel. Ikapat na bahagi, labing limang minuto; bawa't tatlong bwan; kwartel. Quarter, v. [cuórter] Cuartear; acuartelar. Apatín, papag-apatin; ikwartel. Quarterly, adv. [cuórterli] Lo que se hace cada tres meses, trimestralmente. Twing ikatlong bwan. Quartet, n. [cuórtet] Cuarteto. Kwarteto ó binubuò ng apat na magkakatugmang mánunugtog, pagtutugmaan ng apat. Quash, v. [cuosh] Fracasar, anular, invalidar, derrogar. Pinsalain, hadlangán, pawalán ng kabuluhán. Quaver, v. [cuéver] Gorgoritear, trinar. Patiningin ang tinig. Quay, n. [cuey] Muelle. Mwelye, daungán. Quean, n. [cuin] Mujercilla, ramera. Masamang babae; patutot. Queasy, adj. [cuízi] Nauseabundo, fastidioso. Nakaaalibadbad, nakayayamot. Queen, n. [cuin] Reyna. Reyna, haring babae, asawa ng harì. Queer, adj. [cuir] Raro, extraño, ridículo, extravagante. Katwâ, kakatwâ, kaiba. Quell, v. [cuel] Subyugar, abrumar, postrar. Pasukuin, supílin, daigin, talunin, pangayupapain. Quench, v. [cuench] Apagar, matar la lumbre, extinguir. Pumatay [ng ilaw, apoy ó sunog]. Querist, n. [cuírist] Inquisidor, preguntador. Tagasiyasat, tagatanong, palatanong. Querulous, adj. [cuériuloes] Querelloso. Mapagsakdal, mapagsumbong. Query, n. [cuéri] Cuestión, pregunta. Tanóng. Query, v. [cuéri] Preguntar. Magtanong, tumanong. Quest, n. [cuest] Pesquisa, inquisicion. Paniniyasat, pananaliksik, pag-uusig, paghanap. Question, n. [cuéstion] Cuestion, interrogacion. Bagay, asunto, tanong. Questionable, adj. [cueschénabl] Cuestionable, problematico, sospechoso. Nakapag-aalinlangan, nakapaghihinalà. Questioner, n. [cuéschoner] Inquiridor, pregunton. Mapagsiyasat, palatanóng. Quibble, n. [cuíbl] Juguete de vocablos. Paláisipan. Quick, adj. [cuic] Veloz, lijero, pronto. Madalî, matulin, maliksí. Quicken, v. [cuíkn] Acelerar, urgir. Papagmadaliin, papagmaliksihín. Quicklime, n. [cuíclaim] Cal viva. Apog. Quickly, adv. [cuíkli] Con presteza. Dalî. Quicksilver, n. [cuícsilver] Azogue, mercurio. Asoge. Quick-witted, adj. [cuíc-uitted] Perspicaz. Matalinò. Quid, n. [cuid] Pedazo de tabaco que mascan los marineros. Putol na maskada. Quiescent, adj. [cuaiésent] Quieto, descansado. Tahimik, tiwasay, timawà. Quiet, adj. [cuáit] Quieto, tranquilo. Tahimik, walang imík, walang kibô. Quietness, n. [cuáitnes] Quietud, sociego. Katahimikan, kapahingahan. Quietude = Quietness. Quill, n. [cuil] Pluma [para escribir]. Pakpak [na panulat]. Quilt, n. [cuilt] Colcha. Kulchón. Quinine, n. [cuináin] Quinina. Kinina [gamot]. Quinquennial, adj. [cuincuénial] Lo que sucede una vez en cinco años. Twing ikalimang taón. Quincy, n. [cuínzi] Angina. Anhina [sakít na pamamagâ ng lalamunan]. Quintal, n. [cuíntal] Quintal. Kintal ó sangdaang libra. Quintet, n. [cuíntet] Quinteto. Kinteto ó binubuó ng limang mánunugtog na magkakatugmâ. Quintuple, adj. [cuíntiupl] Quíntuplo. Makálima. Quip, n. [cuíp] Sarcasmo. Tuyâ, uyám. Quip, v. [cuíp] Zaherir, satirizar. Tumuyâ, manuyâ, umuyám. Quire, n. [cuáir] Coro; mano de papel. Koro; manilya ó dalawang pu't apat na tiklop na papel. Quirk, n. [cuerc] Pulla, expresion aguda y picante. Tungayaw, dustâ. Quit, v. [cuit] Descargar á una persona de alguna obligacion, libertar. Palayain, pabayaan. Quite, adv. [cuáit] Totalmente, enteramente. Pawà, lubos, pulos, ganáp. Quits, int. [cuits] En paz!. Tapus na! Quittance, n. [cuítans] Finiquito, desempeño; pago; recompensa. Katúusan, kabayaran. Quiver, n. [cuíver] Aljaba. Sisidlan ng panà. Quiver, v. [cuíver] Temblar, estremecerse. Manginig, mangilabot. Quiz, v. [cuíz] Burlar, chulear. Magbirô, manuksó. Quoit, n. [cuóit] Tejo. Bibinga. Quondam, adj. [cuóndam] Antiguo. Dati, lumà. Quorum, n. [cuórum] Número competente. Sapát na bilang. Quota, n. [cuóta] Cuota. Kwota, ukol na hulog [sa pamimilak,] abuloy, ambag. Quote, v. [cuot] Citar. Banggitin ang sinalitâ ng ibá, tumukoy. Quotation, n. [cuotécion] Citacion, cita. Banggit, tukoy. Quotidian, adj. [cuotídian] Cotidiano. Araw-araw. Quoting, n. [cuóting] Citacion. Pagtukoy, pagbanggit. R R, [ar] R (ere). R (ra). Rabbet, n. [rábet] Ranura. Agpang na salaysay. Rabbi, n. [rábi] Rabí, rabino. Guró. Rabbit, n. [rábit] Conejo. Koneho. Rabble, n. [rabl] Gentuza, canalluza. Bunton ng tao, kulumpon, umpukan. Rabid, adj. [rabid] Rabioso, feroz. Mapusok, mabangís. Race, n. [reíz] Raza; casta; carrera. Lahì; angkan; unahán, pátulinan, karera. Race, v. [reíz] Correr con mucha lijereza. Kumarimot, tumakbó ng matulin. Racer, n. [réser] Caballo de carrera. Kabayong pangkarera. Racing, n. [résing] Carrera de caballos. Karrera ng kabayo, pátulinan ng kabayo. Rack, n. [rac] Tormento, dolor; rueca; pesebre. Pahirap, hirap; sudlan, panghabi, habihán; kakanán ng hayop, pásabsaban. Rack, v. [rac] Atormentar, afligir. Pahirapan, pasakitan. Racket, n. [ráket] Raqueta; baraunda, confusion. Raketa ó panghampas ng bola; guló, kaguló, kaingay. Rackety, adj. [ráketi] Ruidoso, bullicioso. Maingay, maalingawngaw. Racy, adj. [rési] Rancio. Maantá. Radiance, n. [rédians] Brillo, esplendor. Ningning, kintab, kislap, kisap. Radiant, adj. [rádiant] Radiante, brillante, resplandeciente. Maningning, makintab, makislap, maliwanag. Radiate, v. [rédiet] Centellear, relumbrar, echar rayos. Kumislap, kumisap. Radiation, n. [radiécion] Radiacion. Sinag, sikat. Radical, adj. [rádical] Radical, primitivo. Nauukol sa ugat ó pinanggalingan. Radish, n. [rádish] Rábano. Labanós. Radius, n. [rédioes] Radio, semidiametro. Guhit na mulâ sa gitnâ hanggang sa gilid ng bilog. Raffle, n. [rafl] Rifa. Ripa, sápalarang larô. Raffle, v. [rafl] Rifar. Magripa, magsapalaran. Raft, n. [raft] Balsa, almadia. Balsá. Rafter, n. [ráfter] Viga. Tahilan. Rag, n. [rag] Trapo, andrajo. Basahan, pamunas. Ragged, n. [rágued] Andrajoso, trapiento. Limahíd, gulagulanit. Rage, n. [redch] Rabia, ira, enojo. Poot, pag-iinit, galit. Rage, v. [redch] Rabiar, enojarse, encolerizarse. Mapoot, mag-init, magalit. Ragmuffin, n. [ragmáfin] Andrajo, mendigo, pordiosero. Limahíd; pulubi. Raid, n. [reíd] Invasion. Paglusob, pagsalakay. Raider, n. [réder] Merodeador. Mánanalalakay. Rail, n. [reíl] Rail, carril de los caminos de hierro; baranda, antepecho. Riles, daang bakal; barandilya, palababahan. Rail, v. [reíl] Cercar con balaustradas; injuriar. Hadlangan; tumungayaw, lumait. Railer, n. [réler] Maldiciente, murmurador. Palatungayaw, manglalait. Railroad, n. [rélrod] Ferrocarril. Tren. Railway = Railroad. Raiment, n. [rément] Ropa, vestido. Pamit, kasuutan. Rain, n. [reín] Lluvia. Ulan. Rain, v. [reín] Llover. Umulan. Rainbow, n. [rénbo] Arco íris. Bahag-harì. Rainy, adj. [réni] Lluvioso. Maulán. Rainy season, n. [réni sisón] Estacion de lluvias. Tagulán. Raise, v. [reís] Levantar, alzar; elevar, promover, ensalzar. Magtaas, bumuhat; ibangon, itaas; ibunyî, itanghal. Raisin, n. [rezn] Pasa, la uva seca. Pasas. Rake, n. [rek] Rastro, rastrillo. Kalaykay, pangalahig, pangalaykay. Rake, v. [rek] Rastrillar, recoger con rastrillo. Kumalaykay, kalahigin ng kalaykay. Rally, v. [ráli] Reunir, replegar; ridiculizar, burlarse de alguno. Tumipon, pumisan; hiyain, tawanan. Ram, n. [ram] Morueco, carnero padre. Tupang lalake. Ram, v. [ram] Impeler con violencia. Manulak. Ramble, n. [rambl] Correría. Pananalakay. Ramble, v. [rambl] Vagar, andar ocioso. Magpagalagalà, tumangá, lumaboy. Ramification, n. [ramifikécion] Ramificacion. Pagsasangá. Ramify, v. [rámifai] Ramificar. Pagsangahin; magsangá. Ramish, adj. [rámish] Lo que huele á chotuno. Malansá. Rammer, n. [rámer] La baqueta de fusil. Baketa ng baríl. Rampant, adj. [rámpant] Exuberante; rampante. Makarás, malikot. Rampart, n. [rámpart] Muralla. Kutà. Ramrod, n. [rámrod] Baqueta. Baketa. Ranch, v. [ranch] Torcer, dislocar. Ilihis, ilisyâ. Rancid, adj. [ránsid] Rancio. Maantá. Rancidity, n. [ransíditi] Rancidez. Antá. Rancor, n. [ránkor] Rencor, encono, tirria. Galit, poot; samâ ng loob, pagtatanim. Random, n. [rándom] Desatino, desacierto; ventura, casualidad. Ligaw, suling; pagkakataon. Range, n. [randch] Fila, hilera, linea, clase, orden. Hanáy; lagay, tayô, urì, taas, ayos. Ranger, v. [réndcher] Colocar; colocarse, ordenar. Maghanay; humanay; mag-ayos, umayos. Ranger, n. [réndcher] Guarda mayor de bosque. Bantay-gubat ng pámahalaan. Rank, adj. [rank] Lozano, exuberante, fértil; rancio, fétido. Malagô, mayabong, matabâ; maantot, mabahò. Rank, n. [rank] Fila, hilera; orden, calidad, grado de dignidad. Hanáy, ayos; urì, pagkaginoo. Rankle, v. [rankl] Enconarse, irritarse, inflamarse. Mag-init, mapoót, magalit; magnaknak. Ransack, v. [ránsac] Saquear, pillar; escudriñar, rebuscar. Mangloob, maniil; saliksikin, siyasatin. Ransom, n. [ransom] Rescate. Tubos. Ransom, v. [ransom] Rescatar. Tumubós. Rant, v. [rant] Decir disparates. Magsalitâ ng kalaswaan. Ranter, n. [ránter] Pedante, pomposo. Maingay, búngangaan. Rap, n. [rap] Golpe ligero y vivo. Tuktok. Rap, v. [rap] Golpear. Tumuktok. Rapacious, adj. [repécioes] Rapaz. Mang-uumit, magnanakaw. Rapacity, n. [rapásiti] Rapacidad. Pang-uumit. Rape, n. [roep] Fuerza, estupro. Pangdadahas, panggagahasà, pagtataanán ng babae. Rapid, adj. [rápid] Rápido, veloz. Mabilís, matulin, maliksí, madalî. Rapidity, n. [rapíditi] Rápidez, velocidad, prontitud. Bilís, tulin, liksí, dalî. Rapidness = Rapidity. Rapier, n. [répier] Espadín, florete. Sandata, tabák. Rapine, n. [rápin] Rapiña; robo. Dagit, nakaw. Rapture, n. [ráptiur] Rapto; pasmo, éxtasis. Pagtataanán [ng babae], pagnanakaw; pagkakamanga. Rapturous, adj. [rápcheroes] Maravilloso, pasmoso. Kagilagilalás, kamangamanga. Rare, adj. [rer] Raro, escaso. Bihirà, madalang. Rarefaction, n. [rarifáccion] Rarefaccion. Kalabnawan. Rarify, v. [rárifai] Rarificar. Buhaghagín. Rarity, n. [ráriti] Raridad, rareza. Katangian, kadalangan. Rascal, n. [ráscal] Pícaro, bribon. Tampalasan, palamara, malikot. Rase, v. [rez] Raer, borrar. Pawiin, burahin. Rash, adj. [rash] Arrojado, precipitado. Padalosdalos, pabiglâbiglâ. Rash, n. [rash] Roncha, sarpullino. Bungang-araw. Rasher, n. [rásher] Lonja. Hiwà. Rashness, n. [ráshnes] Temeridad; audacia. Daluhong, sagasà; kapangahasan. Rasp, n. [rasp] Raspador; escofina. Pangkatkat; kikil. Rasp, v. [rasp] Raspar; escofinar. Kumatkat; kumikil. Rasure, n. [résiur] Raspadura, raedura. Katkat. Rat, n. [rat] Rata. Dagâ. Rate, n. [ret] Tasa, precio, valor; clase, orden. Tasa, halagá; urì, ayos. Rate, v. [ret] Tasar, apreciar, valuar; regañar. Tasahan, halagahan; magalit. Rather, adv. [rádzer] De mejor gana, más bien antes. Subalì, bago. Ratification, n. [ratifikécion] Ratificacion, aprobacion. Patibay, tibay. Ratify, v. [rátifai] Ratificar. Pagtibayin, papagtibayin. Ration, n. [rácion] Racion. Rasyon, kaukuláng bahagi, pagkain. Rational, adj. [rácional] Racional, razonable. May matwid, may katwiran, matwíd. Rationality, n. [racionáliti] Racionalidad. Pagkaayon sa katwiran. Rattan, n. [ratán] Rotén. Yantok, uwáy. Ratteen, n. [ratín] Ratina. Isang urì ng kayo. Rattle, n. [ratl] Rechino, zumbido. Lagitík, kalatís. Ravage, n. [rávedch] Saqueo; destrozo. Pangloloob, kasiraan. Ravage, v. [rávedch] Saquear, pillar; destruir. Mangloob, maniil; manirà. Rave, v. [rev] Delirar, enfurecerse. Mahibang, mapoot, maginit. Ravel, v. [ravl] Enredar, enmarañar; deshilachar, embrollar. Maguló, magusót, manutnot. Raven, n. [revn] Cuervo. Uwák. Ravenous, adj. [rávnes] Voraz, tragon. Mangdadagit, mánanakmal, matakaw. Ravine, n. [révin] Barranca. Tibag; talabís. Ravish, v. [rávish] Estuprar; arrebatar. Magtaanan [ng babae], manggahasà; mang-agaw. Ravisher, n. [rávisher] Estuprador, forzador. Ang nagtaanan [ng babae], mangdadahas, manggagahasà. Ravishment, n. [rávishment] Estupro, rapto; fuerza. Pagtataanan [ng babae], panggagahasà, pangdadahas. Raw, adj. [ro] Crudo; dícese de la carne viva. Hilaw, bubót; sariwà. Rawboned, adj. [ró-bond] Huesudo, membrudo. Payát, nangangalirang. Rawness, n. [rónes] Crudeza. Kabubután, kahilawan. Ray, n. [reí] Rayo [de luz]. Sinag, liwayway. Rayless, adj. [réles] Sin brillo. Walang ningning. Raze, v. [reíz] Arrasar, extirpar; borrar. Lipulin, pawiin, utasín; burahín. Razor, n. [rézor] Navaja. Labaha. Reach, n. [rich] Alcance. Abót, kaya. Reach, v. [rich] Alcanzar, llegar hasta; alargar, extender. Umábot, sumapit; mag-abót. React, v. [riáct] Rechazar; obrar recíprocamente. Paglabanan. Read, v. [rid] Leer. Bumasa. Readable, adj. [rídibl] Legible. Nababasa. Reader, n. [ríder] Lector. Mangbabasa. Readily, adv. [rédili] Prontamente, luego. Agád, karakaraka. Reading, n. [ríding] Lectura. Pagbasa; babasahín. Ready, adj. [rédi] Listo, pronto. Maagap, handâ. Real, adj. [ríal] Real, verdadero. Tunay, totoo. Reality, n. [riáliti] Realidad. Katunayan, katotohanan. Realization, n. [rializécion] Realizacion. Pagsasagawâ. Realize, v. [ríalaiz] Realizar, efectuar. Isagawâ, gawín, ganapín. Really, adv. [ríli] Realmente, verdaderamente. Tunay ngà, totoo ngà. Realm, n. [riálm] Reyno. Kaharian. Ream, n. [rim] Resma. Resma. Reanimate, v. [riánimet] Reanimar. Buhayin ang loob, buhayin. Reap, v. [rip] Segar, hacer el agosto. Umani, gumapas. Reaper, n. [ríper] Segador. Mang-aani, manggagapas. Reaping-hook, n [ríping-juk] Hoz. Karit, lilik. Reappear, v. [riapír] Parecer de nuevo. Mulíng lumitaw, muling sumipot, muling pakita. Rear, v. [rír] Levantar, alzar. Ibangon, itaas, alsahín. Rearguard, n. [rírgard] Retaguardia. Bantay sa hulihán. Reason, n. [rizn] Razon; causa, fundamento, motivo. Katwiran; sanghî, dahilan. Reason, v. [rizn] Razonar, raciocinar, disputar, discutir. Magmatwid, mangatwiran, makipagtalo. Reasonable, adj. [rízonabl] Razonable. May katwiran, na sa katwiran. Reasoning, n. [rízoning] Raciocinio. Pagmamatwid, pangangatwiran. Rebel, v. [ribél] Rebelarse, sublevarse, alzarse. Manghimagsik, mag-alsá. Rebellion, n. [ribélion] Rebelion, revuelta, sublevacion. Panghihimagsik, hímagsikan pag-aalsá. Rebellious, adj. [ribélioes] Rebelde. Mapanghimagsik, ang nanghihimagsik. Rebound, v. [ribáund] Repercutir; rechazar. Umudlot, umurong; tumanggí, umayaw. Rebuff, n. [ribáf] Repercusion; denegacion. Udlot, urong; tanggí, pag-ayaw. Rebuff, v. [ribáf] Rechazar. Umayaw, tumanggí. Rebuild, v. [ribíld] Reedificar. Muling itayô ó gawín. Rebuke, n. [ribiúk] Reprensión. Saway. Rebuke, v. [ribiúk] Reprender. Sumaway; sawayín, pangusapan. Rebus, n. [ríbas] Acertijo. Bugtong, bugtungan. Rebut, v. [ribát] Repercutir, volver atrás. Umurong. Recall, v. [ricól] Revocar, anular. Baguhin, bawiin, alisan ng bisà. Recant, v. [ricánt] Retractarse, desdecirse. Magbalik-loob, tumalikwas; talikdan. Recantation, n. [recantécion] Retractacion. Pagbabalik-loob, pagtalikwás. Recapacitate, v. [rikepásitet] Recapacitar. Magbulay, magdilidilì. Recede, v. [ricíd] Retroceder, desistir. Umurong, itigil. Receipt, n. [ricít] Recibo. Pagkatanggap, recibo. Receivable, adj. [risívabl] Admisible. Matatanggap, tinatanggap. Receive, v. [ricív] Recibir, aceptar, admitir. Tumanggap, sumahod; tanggapin, sahurin. Recent, adj. [rísent] Reciente, nuevo, fresco. Kapangyayari, kayayarì, bago, sariwâ. Receptacle, n. [ricéptacl] Receptáculo. Sisidlán ng sukal, kasangkapang panahod. Reception, n. [ricépcion] Recepcion, acogida. Pagtanggap, pagsalubong. Recess, n. [ríses] Retiro, alejamiento. Pagligpít, pag-ilag. Recession, n. [risécion] Retirada. Pag-urong. Recipe, n. [résipi] Récipe ó receta de médico. Reseta, hatol. Recipient, adj. & n. [risípient] Recipiente. Tagatanggap, ang tumatanggap. Reciprocal, adj. [risíprocal] Recíproco, mutuo. Magkatugmaan, magkatugunan ó magkalaban ang dalawa ó magkábilâ. Reciprocate, v. [risíproket] Reciprocar. Pagtugunín ang dalawang bagay. Reciprocity, n. [risiprósiti] Reciprocidad. Pagkakatugmaan ó pagkakatugunan. Recital, n. [risáital] Recitacion. Salaysay, pananalaysay. Recitation, n. [risitécion] Recitacion. Salaysay, pananalaysay. Recite, v. [risáit] Recitar, referir, narrar. Manalaysáy. Reck, v. [rec] Cuidar. Mag-ingat, mabahalà. Reckless, adj. [récles] Descuidado, indiferente. Pabayâ, walang bahalà, walang ingat. Reckon, v. [recn] Contar, numerar, calcular. Bumilang, kumwentá, tumuus. Reckoning, n. [réconing] Cuenta, calculacion. Bilang, kwenta, kurò, katuusan. Reclaim, v. [reclém] Reclamar; reformar, corregir. Tumutol, magsumbong; baguhin, ayusin. Recline, v. [recláin] Reclinar, recostarse. Sumandal, humilig. Recluse, adj. [ricliús] Recluso, encerrado, oculto, retirado. Nakukulong, napipiit, nátatagò. Recluse, n. [ricliús] Persona retirada del mundo. Taong hiwalay sa kapwà. Recognition, n. [recognícion] Reconocimiento, recuerdo. Pagkakilala, paghakalatâ, pagkáalala. Recognize, v. [récognaiz] Reconocer. Kumilala; humalatâ, kilalanin. Recoil, v. [ricóil] Recular, retroceder. Umudlot, umurong. Recollect, v. [recoléct] Acordarse; recoger. Alalahanin; tipunin, singilin. Recollection, n. [recoléccion] Memoria, recuerdo, reminiscencia. Alaala, alala, pag-alala. Recommence, v. [ricoméns] Empezar de nuevo. Pasimulan ulî. Recommend, v. [recoménd] Recomendar, encomendar. Ipagtagubilin, ipagbilin, ipakisuyò. Recommendation, n. [recomendécion] Recomendacion. Tagubilin, pakisuyò. Recommendatory, adj. [recoméndetori] Recomendatorio. Maipagtatagubilin, maipakikisuyò. Recompense, n. [récompens] Recompensa; indemnizacion. Gantí, kagantihan; bayad, upa, kabayaran. Recompense, v. [récompens] Recompensar, satisfacer. Gantihin, bayaran, upahan, pagbayaran. Recompose, v. [ricompóz] Volver á componer. Mulíng husayin. Reconcile, v. [réconsail] Reconciliar. Makipagkasundô; kasunduín. Reconciliation, n. [réconsiliécion] Reconciliacion. Pagkakasundô. Recondite, adj. [récondait] Recóndito, secreto. Tagô, lihim. Reconnoitre, v. [reconóiter] Reconocer. Kilalanin, saliksikin. Reconsider, v. [riconsíder] Considerar de nuevo. Dilidiliing mulî, bulaying mulî, muling isipin. Reconstruct, v. [riconstráct] Reedificar. Itayong mulî, gawíng mulî. Record, n. [récord] Registro, archivo, anales. Tálaan, tandaan. Record, v. [ricórd] Registrar, recordar. Italâ, itandâ. Recorder, n. [ricórder] Registrador, archivero. Tagapagtalâ, tagapagtandâ. Recount, v. [ricáunt] Referir, contar de nuevo. Banggitin, salaysayíng mulî. Recourse, n. [ricórs] Recurso, repeticion; auxilio. Pagbabalik, pag-ulit; pag-dulog, pag-abuloy. Recover, v. [ricóver] Recobrar, reparar, rescatar. Mabawì; máisaulì; bawiin; isaulì. Recoverable, adj. [ricóverabl] Recuperable. Mababawì. Recovery, n. [ricóveri] Mejoría, convalecencia. Paggaling, paglakas ng katawan [na galíng sa sakít,] paggalíng sa sakit. Recreant, adj. [rícriant] Cobarde, pusilánime. Dwag, matatakutín. Recreate, v. [rícriet] Recrear, deleitar, divertir. Maglibang, mag-aliw, magsayá. Recreation, n. [ricriécion] Recreacion, entretenimiento, diversion, pasatiempo. Líbangan, áliwan, pangparaan ng panahon. Recreative, adj. [rícrietiv] Recreativo, agradable. Nakalilibang, kalugodlugod. Recriminate, v. [ricríminet] Recriminar, acusarse mutuamente. Magsisihán. Recrimination, n. [ricriminécion] Recriminacion. Pagsisisihán. Recruit, n. [ricriút] Recluta. Bagong kawal, kawal na dagdag. Recruit, v. [ricriút] Reclutar. Magdagdag ng kawal. Rectification, n. [rectifikécion] Rectificacion. Pagtutwíd. Rectify, v. [réctifai] Rectificar, corregir. Itwid, twirin, husayin. Rectilineal, adj. [rectilínial] Rectilíneo. Matwid na guhit. Rectitude, n. [réctitiud] Rectitud, derechura. Twid, katwirán. Rector, n. [réctor] Rector. Rector, punong parè. Rectorship, n. [réctorship] Rectorado. Pagkarektor. Rectory, n. [réctori] Rectoría. Káwanihan ng rektor. Rectum, n. [réctum] Recto. Tumbong. Recumbent, adj. [rikámbent] Recostado, reclinado. Nakasandal, nakahilig. Recuperate, v. [rikiúperet] Recuperar. Mabawì; bumawì; gumalíng. Recuperative, adj. [rikiúperativ] Recuperativo. Nakababawì. Recur, v. [rikár] Recurrir, acudir. Dumulog, dumaló. Recurrence, n. [rikárrens] Retorno, vuelta. Pagbabalik, panunumbalik, pag-ulit. Recurrency = Recurrence. Recurrent, adj. [rikárent] Periódico. Panapanahón, twitwî. Recusant, adj. & n. [rikiúsant] Recusante. Tagatutol, tagaampat. Red, adj. [red] Colorado, rojo, encarnado. Mapulá. Red, n. [red] Rojez, el encarnado. Pulá, kapulahan, ang mapulá. Redden, v. [redn] Teñir de color rojo; ponerse encarnado. Papulahin, tinain ng kulay pulá; mamulá. Reddish, adj. [rédish] Bermejizo, rojizo. Namumulá. Redeem, v. [ridím] Redimir, libertar. Tumubos, manubos, magpalayà. Redeemer, n. [ridímer] Redentor. Mánunubos. Redemption, n. [ridémpcion] Redencion, rescate. Pagkatubós, katubusan. Redhot, adj. [rédjot] Candente, ardiente. Mainit, nag-aapóy. Redness, n. [rédnes] Bermejura. Kapulahán. Redolence, n. [rédolens] Fragancia, perfume. Bangó, kabanguhán. Redolency = Redolence. Redolent, adj. [rédolent] Fragante, oloroso. Mabangó. Redouble, v. [ridaúbl] Reduplicar, redoblar. Papagtikloptiklupin. Redoubtable, adj. [ridáutabl] Formidable, terrible. Kasindaksindak, kakilakilabot. Redound, v. [ridáund] Resaltar, rebotar, redundar. Lumabis, umapaw, lumagô. Redress, n. [ridrés] Reforma, correccion. Pagbabago, paghuhusay, pagtutwid. Redress, v. [ridrés] Enderezar, reformar, corregir. Itwid, baguhin, husayin. Reduce, v. [ridiús] Reducir, disminuir, minorar. Pakauntiin, bawasan, awasan, kulangan. Reducible, adj. [ridiúsibl] Reducible. Mababawasan. Reduction, n. [ridáccion] Reduccion. Bawas, awás, pagbabawas. Redundance, n. [ridúndans] Redundancia. Kalabisan, kasaganaang lubhâ. Redundant, adj. [ridúndant] Redundante, superfluo. Malabis. Reed, n. [rid] Caña. Tambô, búkawi, buhò. Reduplicate, v. [ridiúpliket] Reduplicar. Papagdobledoblihin. Reef, v. [rif] Tomar rizos á las velas. Tiklupín ang layag. Reek, n. [rik] Humo, vapor. Usok, asó, singaw. Reek, v. [rik] Humear, vahear. Umusok, umasó, sumingaw. Reel, n. [ril] Aspa; devanadera. Salalak, saklang; ikirán, pang-ikid. Reel, v. [ril] Aspar; hacer eses, vacilar al andar. Magsalalak magsaklang; gumiraygiray. Reelection, n. [riiléccion] Reeleccion. Pagkahalal na mulî, paghahalal na mulî. Reenforce, v. [rienfórs] Reforzar, fortalecer. Dagdagán ng lakás, palakasin. Reenforcement, n. [riinfórsment] Refuerzo, nuevo socorro. Pagdaragdag ng lakás, bagong saklolo. Reenter, v. [ri-ínter] Volver á entrar. Mulíng pumasok. Re-establish, v. [ri-estáblish] Restablecer. Muling itatag. Re-establishment, n. [riestáblishment] Restablecimiento, restauracion. Muling pagkatatag, pagkakapanaulì. Refection, n. [riféccion] Refección. Pag-âayos. Refer, v. [rifér] Referir, referirse. Bumanggit, banggitín. Referee, n. [referí] Arbitro, arbitrador. Tagahatol. Reference, n. [réferens] Referencia, alusion. Banggit, tukoy. Refine, v. [rifáin] Refinar, purificar, pulir. Painamin, linisin, pakinisin, dalisayin. Refinement, n. [rifáinment] Refinación, refinadura. Inam, linis, kinis, kadalisayan. Reflect, v. [rifléct] Reflejar; reflexionar, considerar. Manganinag, manalamín; magbulay, magwarì. Reflection, n. [rifléccion] Refleccion; meditación. Sinag, silay; pagbubulay, pagwarì, pagmumunì. Reflective, adj. [rifléctiv] Reflexivo. Nanganganinag; nagwawarì. Reflex, adj. [ríflecs] Reflejo. Anino. Reform, n. [rifórm] Reforma, arreglo. Pagbabago, pag-aayos. Reform, v. [rifórm] Reformar, volver á formar. Baguhin. Reformation, n. [reformécion] Reforma. Pagbabago. Reformer, n. [rifórmer] Reformador. Mangbabago. Refract, v. [rifráct] Refringir. Ihiwid, ilisyâ. Refraction, n. [rifráccion] Refraccion. Paghihiwíd, paglilisyâ. Refractory, adj. [rifráctori] Refractario; obstinado. Palasuway, matigas ang ulo. Refrain, v. [rifrén] Refrenar, reprimir, refrenarse, abstenerse. Pumigil, hawakan; magpigil ng loob. Refresh, v. [rifrésh] Refrigerar; refrescar. Palamigin, pahingahin; magpalamig. Refreshment, n. [rifréshment] Refresco, alivio. Pagpapalamig; inuming pangpalamig. Refrigerant, adj. [rifrídcherant] Refrigerante. Pangpalamig. Refrigerator, n. [rifrídcheretor] Enfriadera. Sisidlang pálamigan, páminggalan ng yelo. Refuge, n. [réfiudch] Refugio, asilo. Kanlungan, silungán, kúblihan, ampunan. Refugee, n. [refiudchí] Refugiado, emigrado. Nanganganlong, nangingibang bayan. Refulgence, n. [rifuldchens] Refulgencia, claridad, brillantez. Ningning, liwanag, kintab, kislap. Refulgency = Refulgence. Refulgent, adj. [rifúldchent] Refulgente, brillante, esplendente. Maningning, makisap, makislap, maliwanag. Refund, v. [rifánd] Restituir, volver á pagar. Isaulì, bayaran, palitan. Refusal, n. [rifiúzal] Negativa, repulsa; desaire. Pag-ayaw, pagtanggi, pahindî; paghiyâ. Refuse, n. [réfius] Desecho, sobra. Tapon, labis, sobra. Refuse, v. [rifiús] Negar, rehusar, repulsar, denegar; desairar. Umayaw, tumanggí, pahindî; humiyâ. Refutation, n. [refiutécion] Refutacion. Pakikipagtalo, pakikipungyagî, tutol. Refute, v. [rifiút] Refutar, contradecir. Makipagtalo, tumugon, magmatwid. Regain, v. [riguén] Recobrar, recuperar. Bumawì, bawiin. Regal, adj. [rígal] Real. Nauukol sa harì; parang harì. Regale, v. [riguél] Regalar; festejar. Magkaloob, magregalo; magpigíng. Regalia, n. [riguélia] Insignias. Tandâ, sagisag. Regard, n. [rigárd] Consideración; respeto. Pitagan; galang. Regard, v. [rigárd] Estimar, considerar. Pahalagahan, mahalín; magpitagan. Regardful, adj. [rigárdful] Atento, cuidadoso. Taimtim, taos sa loob, maingat. Regardless, adj. [rigárdles] Descuidado, negligente. Walang bahalà, pabayâ. Regarding, prep. [rigárding] Concerniente á. Tungkol sa. Regency, n. [rídchensi] Regente, gobierno. Paghaharì, pamamahalà. Regenerate, v. [ridchéneret] Regenerado, reengendrado. Lumitaw na mulî, sumipot na mulî. Regent, adj. & n. [rídchent] Regente. Naghaharì, namamahalà, nagpupunò. Regicide, n. [rédchisaid] Regicida; regicidio. Nakamatay ng harì; pagpatay sa harì. Regimen, n. [rédchimen] Régimen. Pamamalakad ng pámahalaan. Regiment, n. [rédchiment] Regimiento. Hukbó, rehimyento. Regimental, adj. [redchiméntal] Lo que pertenece á un regimiento. Nauukol sa isang hukbó ó rehimyento. Region, n. [rídchen] Region, país, distrito; comarca. Lalawigan, lupain, pook, nayon, dako. Register, n. [rédchister] Registro. Aklat na tálaan ng mga pangalan. Register, v. [rédchister] Registrar. Italâ ang pangalan. Registrar, n. [rédchistrar] Registrador. Tagapagtalâ ng pangalan. Registration, n. [redchistrécion] Registro, empadronamiento. Pagtatalâ ng pangalan, pagpapatalâ ng pangalan. Registry, n. [rédchistri] Asiento, registro. Tálaan ng pangalan, pátalaan ng pangalan. Regress, n. [rígres] Regreso, vuelta. Pag-uwî, pagbalík. Regressive, adj. [rigrésiv] Retrógrado. Napag-iiwan. Regret, n. [rigrét] Arrepentimiento; pesar, dolor. Pagsisisi; pagdaramdam, samâ ng loob. Regret, v. [rigrét] Sentir, tener pena. Damdamin, isamâ ng loob. Regretful, adj. [rigrétful] Pesaroso. Masamâ ang loob, nagsisisi. Regular, adj. [réguiular] Regular, ordinario. Karaniwan. Regularity, n. [reguiuláriti] Regularidad, método. Ayos, kawastuan. Regulate, v. [réguiulet] Regular, ordenar. Isaayos, ayusin, husayin, iwastô. Regulation, n. [reguiulécion] Regulacion, método, reglamento. Ayos, husay, palakad, pátakaran. Rehearsal, n. [rijérsal] Repeticion, recitacion, ensayo. Ulit, pagpapaulit-ulit, pagsasanay. Rehearse, v. [rijérs] Repetir, recitar, repasar, ensayar. Ulitin, ulit-ulitin, sanayin. Reign, n. [reín] Soberanía, reinado, reino. Kaharian; paghaharì. Reign, v. [reín] Reinar; prevalecer. Magharì; mamalagì. Reimburse, v. [riimbárs] Reembolsar. Isaulì ang salaping nagugol. Rein, n. [reín] Rienda. Ryenda. Rein, v. [reín] Refrenar, contener. Pigilin. Reinforce, v. [riinfórs] Reforzar. Palakasin, magdagdag ng lakas. Reins, n. [reínz] Riñones. Bató ng katawán. Reinstate, v. [ríinstét] Instalar de nuevo, restablecer. Isaulì sa dati, itatag na mulî. Re-issue, n. [rí-isiu] Nueva edicion. Muling pagkakaulat. Reiterate, v. [ríiteret] Reiterar. Ulitin, sabihin uli. Reiteration, n. [riiterécion] Reiteracion, repeticion. Ulit, pagsasabi ulî. Reject, v. [ridchéct] Rechazar; desechar, rehusar. Itakwil, iwaksí, tanggihan, ayawán. Rejection, n. [ridchéccion] La accion de desechar. Pagtatakwil, pagwawaksí, pagtanggí, pag-ayaw. Rejoice, v. [ridchóis] Regocijarse, divertirse. Magalak, matwâ, magsayá. Rejoicing, n. [ridchóising] Regocijo, alegría. Galak, kagalakan, twâ, katwaan, kasayahan. Rejoin, v. [ridchóin] Reunirse. Pumisan ulî. Rejoinder, n. [ridchóinder] Contraréplica. Tutol, tugon. Relapse, n. [riláps] Recaida, reincidencia. Binat; pagkakasalangmulî. Relapse, v. [riláps] Recaer; reincidir; repetir. Mabinat; mulíng magkasala, umulit. Relate, v. [rilét] Relatar, referir, narrar. Salaysayín, saysaysin. Relation, n. [rilécion] Relacion; parentesco; pariente. Salaysay, pananalaysay; kamag-anakan, kamag-anak, hinlog. Relationship, n. [rilécionship] Parentesco. Pagkakamag-anak, kamag-anakan. Relative, adj. [rélativ] Relativo. Ukol; katugón. Relative, n. [rélativ] Pariente. Hinlog, kamag-anak. Relax, v. [rilács] Relajar, aflojar. Magpalubay, magpalwag, magpalambot. Relaxation, n. [relacsécion] Relajacion, aflojamiento. Lubay, lwag, lambot. Relay, n. [rilé] Parada ó posta. Hintô, tigil, pahinga. Release, n. [rilís] Libertad, soltura. Layà, pagka-kawalâ. Release, v. [rilís] Soltar, libertar; relajar, eximir, aliviar. Pawalán, palayain; lwagán, gaanán. Relegate, v. [réliguet] Desterrar, relegar. Itapon sa ibang lupà, idestiero, palayasin. Relegation, n. [religuécion] Relegacion; destierro. Pagpapalayas, pagtataboy; pagtatapon sa ibang lupà, pagdedestierro. Relent, v. [rilént] Relentecer, ablandarse. Papaglubayin, palambutin, labugin, palatain. Relentless, adj. [riléntles] Empedernido, inflexible, implacable. Matigas, mapagmatigas, walang awà. Relevant, adj. [rélivant] Lo que alivia. Nakagagaan. Reliable, adj. [reláiabl] Seguro, digno de confianza. Maaasahan, mapagkakatiwalaan. Reliance, n. [riláians] Confianza. Tiwalà, pagkakatiwalà. Relic, n. [rélic] Reliquia. Relikya. Relict, n. [rélict] Viuda. Babaing bao. Relief, n. [rilíf] Relieve; realce; alivio, consuelo; relevo. Tampok, lilok; ningning; ginghawa; kahalile. Relieve, v. [rilív] Relevar, remediar; aliviar, consolar. Halinhán; bigyang lunas, paginghawahin, aliwin. Religion, n. [relídchen] Religion. Relihiyon, kapanampalatayahan. Religious, adj. [rilídches] Religioso; devoto. Banal; mapagdasal. Relinquish, v. [rilíncuish] Abandonar, dejar. Pabayaan, iwan. Relinquishment, n. [rilíncuishment] Abandono. Pagpapabayâ. Reliquary, n. [rélicueri] Relicario. Agnós. Relish, n. [rélish] Sabor, gusto. Lasa, lasap. Relish, v. [rélish] Saborear. Lasahin, lasapin, tikman. Reluctance, n. [riláctans] Repugnancia, tedio. Kasalungatan; yamot. Reluctant, adj. [riláctant] Repugnante. Salungat; nakayayamot, nakaririmarim. Rely, v. [rilái] Confiar en; asegurarse de, contar con. Asahan; ibilang. Remain, v. [rimén] Quedar, restar. Mátira, maiwan, málabi. Remainder, n. [riménder] Resto, residuo. Tira, labí, labis. Remains, n. [riméns] Cadaver; restos, reliquias. Bangkay, mga buto't bungô, relikya. Remark, n. [rimárk] Reparo, consideracion; observacion. Puná, masíd. Remark, v. [rimárk] Notar, observar. Pumuná, magmasíd. Remarkable, adj. [rimárcabl] Notable, interesante. Halatâ; mainam, katakataká. Remediable, adj. [rimídiable] Remediable. Nalulunasan. Remedial, adj. [rimídial] Curativo. Naipanggagamot. Remedy, n. [rémidi] Remedio, medicamento. Lunas, kagamutan, gamot. Remedy, v. [rémidi] Remediar, curar, sanar. Lunasan, gamutín, pagalingin. Remember, v. [rimémber] Acordarse, recordar. Umalala; isipin. Remembrance, n. [rimémbrans] Memoria; recuerdo. Alaala, alala. Remind, v. [rimáind] Acordar, recordar. Alalahanin, isaalaala. Reminiscence, n. [riminísens] Reminiscencia. Gunamgunam, alaala. Remiss, adj. [remís] Remiso, flojo, perezoso. Malubay, mahinà, tamád. Remission, n. [rimísion] Remisión, perdon. Patawad, kapatawarán. Remit, v. [rimít] Remitir, perdonar; enviar dinero de una parte á otra; debilitarse. Magpatawad; magpadalá ng salapî; manghinà. Remittance, n. [rimítans] Remesa. Padalá. Remnant, n. [rémnant] Remanente; residuo. Labis, tirá, sobra. Remodel, v. [rimódel] Reformar. Baguhin. Remonstrance, n. [rimónstrans] Súplica motivada. Pamanhik ó luhog na may katwiran. Remorse, n. [rimórs] Remordimiento. Ngitngit, pagkabalisá. Remorseless, adj. [rimórsles] Insensible á los remordimientos. Walang-bahalà, dî marunong magngitngít sa sarili. Remote, adj. [rimót] Remoto, distante, lejano. Malayò. Removal, n. [rimúval] Remoción, deposicion. Paglilipat, pag-aalis, pagpapaalís. Remove, v. [rimúv] Remover, alejar, deponer del empleo. Ilipat, ilayô, ihiwalay; alisán ng katungkulan. Remunerate, v. [rimiúneret] Remunerar; premiar. Bayaran, pagbayaran, upahan; gantihin, bihisan. Remuneration, n. [rimiunerécion] Remuneracion, retribucion. Bayad, upa, gantí. Remunerative, adj. [rimiúnerativ] Remuneratorio. May kabayaran. Rencounter, n. [rencáunter] Choque, encuentro. Banggaan, sagupà. Rend, v. [rend] Lacerar, desgarrar, rasgar. Hapakin, punitin, kuyamusin. Render, v. [rénder] Rendir; volver, restituir. Sumukò, pahinohod; makipagtuos; isaulî; ibigay. Rendezvous, n. [réndivu] Cita, lugar señalado para encontrarse. Típanan, dakong tagpuan. Renegade, n. [rénigued] Renegado; apóstata. Nagmamaktol; ang tumatalikod sa pagsunod sa Pg. Hesu-Kristo. Renew, v. [reniú] Renovar, restablecer. Baguhin. Renewal, n. [riniúal] Renovacion. Pagbabago. Renounce, v. [rináuns] Renunciar. Tumanggí, tumiwalag; humiwalay. Renovate, v. [rénovet] Renovar. Baguhin. Renovation, n. [renovécion] Renovacion. Pagbabago. Renown, n. [rináun] Renombrado, reputacion. Kabantugan, kagitingan, kabunyian. Renowned, adj. [rináund] Celebre, reputado, famoso. Bantog, balità, magiting, bunyî. Rent, n. [rent] Renta, arrendamiento, alquiler. Upa, bayad. Rent, v. [rent] Alquilar, arrendar. Paupahan. Renunciation, n. [rinanciécion] Renuncia. Pagtiwalag, paghiwalay. Reopen, v. [riópen] Abrir de nuevo. Mulíng buksán. Reorganization, n. [riorganizécion] Reorganización. Mulíng paghuhusay ó pag-aayos. Reorganize, v. [riorganáis] Reorganizar. Mulíng husayin. Repair, n. [ripér] Reparo, compostura. Paghuhusay, pagkumpuní; tutop. Repair, v. [ripér] Reparar, resarcir. Husayin, kumpunihin; tutupán. Reparation, n. [reparécion] Reparacion. Paghuhusay, pagkukumpuní, pag-uulî. Repartee, n. [repartí] Réplica aguda ó picante. Tugon ó sagot na nakasasakít ng loob. Repast, n. [ripást] Refrigerio, comida. Pagkain. Repay, v. [ripé] Volver á pagar, restituir. Bayaran ulî, isaulî. Repayment, n. [ripément] Pago. Bayad, kabayarán. Repeal, v. [ripíl] Abrogar, revocar. Baguhin. Repeat, n. [ripít] Repeticion. Pag-ulit. Repeat, v. [ripít] Repetir. Umulit; ulitin. Repeatedly, adv. [ripítedli] Repetidamente. Paulit-ulit. Repel, v. [ripél] Repeler; reputar. Itakwil, iwaksí; ipakipagtalo, ipakipaglaban. Repent, v. [ripént] Arrepentirse. Magsisi. Repentance, n. [ripéntans] Arrepentimiento. Pagsisisi. Repentant, adj. [ripéntant] Arrepentido, contrito. Nagsisisi. Repetition, n. [repitícion] Repeticion; repaso. Pag ulit. Repine, v. [ripáin] Afligirse, consumirse. Magdalamhatì, mahapis. Replace, v. [riplés] Reemplazar, reponer. Palitan; panumbalikin, iulî. Replant, v. [replánt] Replantar. Mulíng itanim. Replenish, v. [riplénish] Llenar, surtir. Punuin, pakapunuin. Replete, adj. [riplít] Repleto, lleno. Punô, busóg. Repletion, n. [riplícion] Replecion, plenitud. Kapuspusan, kabusugan. Reply, n. [ripláy] Réplica, respuesta. Tugon, sagot, kasagutan, tutol. Reply, v. [ripláy] Replicar. Tumugon, tumutol. Report, n. [ripórt] Relacion, parte, noticia. Pasabi, patalastas balità, bigay-alam, salaysay. Report, v. [ripórt] Relatar, dar cuenta, contar, informar. Magbigay-alam, magbalità, magsaysay, magsalaysay. Reporter, n. [ripórter] Relator. Tagapagbalità. Repose, n. [ripóz] Reposo, descanso. Pahingá, kapahingahan. Repose, v. [ripóz] Reposar, descansar. Magpahingá, magpahingalay. Repository, n. [ripósitori] Depósito, dispensa. Lágakan, paminggalan. Repossess, v. [riposés] Recobrar, recuperar. Bumawì, mulíng taglayín. Reprehend, v. [reprijénd] Reprender, censurar. Sawayin, pangusapan, pagwikaan. Reprehensible, adj. [reprijénsibl] Reprensible. Nasasaway; dapat sawayin. Reprehension, n. [reprijéncion] Reprension, censura. Saway, pangusap. Represent, v. [reprisént] Representar; describir. Katawanín; ilarawan, salaysayin. Representation, n. [reprisentécion] Representacion, descripcion. Pagkatawan; paglalarawan. Representative, adj. [repriséntativ] Representativo, representante. Kinatawan, katiwalà. Repress, v. [riprés] Reprimir, domar. Pigilin, supilin. Repression, n. [riprésion] Represion. Pagsupil. Reprieve, n. [riprív] La suspencion temporal en la imposicion de algun castigo. Palugid, pagpapaurong ng parusa. Reprieve, v. [riprív] Suspender una ejecucion. Ipaurong ang purasa. Reprimand, n. [réprimand] Reprension, correccion. Saway, pangusap. Reprimand, v. [reprimánd] Reprender, corregir. Sawayín, pangusapan. Reprint, v. [riprínt] Reimprimir. Mulíng limbagín. Reprisal, n. [ripráisal] Represalia. Higantí, panghihigantí. Reproach, n. [ripróch] Improperio, oprobio. Siphayò, paghalay, pagkutyâ. Reproach, v. [ripróch] Improperar, vituperar. Sumiphayò, humalay, kumutyâ. Reproachful, adj. [ripróchful] Ignominioso; infame. Kahalayhalay, kakutyakutyâ. Reprobate, n. [réprobet] Réprobo, malvado. Hamak, masamâ. Reprobate, v. [réprobet] Reprobar; condenar. Itakwíl; parusahan. Reproduce, v. [riprodiús] Reproducir. Muling ihayag, mulíng gawín. Reproduction, n. [riprodáccion] Reproduccion. Muling paghahayag, muling pagkagawâ. Reproof, n. [riprúf] Reprensión, improperio. Saway, pangusap, siphayò. Reprove, v. [riprúv] Censurar, improperar. Pintasan; kutyain. Reptile, n. [réptil] Reptil. Ahas. Republic, n. [ripáblic] República. Repúblika, bansang nakapangyayari ang bayan. Republican, adj. & n. [ripáblican] Republicano. Nauukol sa repúblika. Repudiate, v. [ripiúdiet] Repudiar; renunciar. Hiwalayan; iwan, talikdán. Repudiation, n. [ripiudiécion] Repudiacion. Paghiwalay, pagtiwalag, pagtalikwas. Repugnance, n. [ripúgnans] Repugnancia. Suklam, rimarim. Repugnancy = Repugnance. Repugnant, adj. [ripúgnant] Repugnante. Nakasusuklam, nakaririmarim. Repulse, n. [ripáls] Repulsa. Tanggí, takwil, paghalay, paghiyâ. Repulse, v. [ripáls] Repulsar. Tanggihan, itakwil; halayin, hiyáin. Repulsion, n. [ripálsion] Repulsion. Pagtanggi, pagtatakwil. Repulsive, adj. [ripálsiv] Repulsivo. Tumatanggí, nagtatakwil. Repurchase, v. [ripárches] Recomprar. Mulíng bilhín. Reputable, adj. [rípiutabl] Honroso, decoroso. Marangal, kapuripuri. Reputation, n. [repiutécion] Reputacion, crédito, renombre. Dangal, puri, kagitingan, kabantugan. Repute, v. [ripiút] Reputar, estimar, juzgar. Halagahan, hatulan. Request, n. [ricuést] Peticion, ruego, súplica. Kahingian, kahilingan, luhog, pamanhik. Request, v. [ricuést] Rogar, suplicar. Mamanhik, lumuhog, sumamò. Require, v. [ricuáir] Requerir, solicitar. Hingín, hilingín. Requirement, n. [ricuáirment] Requisito, exigencia. Kailangan. Requisite, adj. [récuisit] Necesario, preciso. Kailangan, kinakailangan. Requisition, n. [recuisícion] Peticion, demanda. Kahilingan, ang kailangan. Requital, n. [ricuáital] Retorno, recompensa, premio. Gantí, kagantihan, kabayaran. Requite, v. [ricuáit] Recompensar. Gantihín; gantihan. Rescind, v. [ricínd] Rescindir, anular. Sirain ang káyarian, pawalán ng halagá. Rescue, n. [réskiu] Libramiento, recobro. Pagsagíp, pagliligtás. Rescue, v. [réskiu] Recobrar, librar. Sagipín, iligtas. Research, n. [risírch] Escudriñamiento. Siyasat, saliksik. Research, v. [risírch] Escudriñar, examinar. Siyasatin, saliksikin. Reseat, v. [risít] Asentar de nuevo. Mulíng italâ. Resemblance, n. [risémblans] Semejanza. Wangis, pagkakámukhâ. Resemble, v. [risémbl] Asemejar, comparar. Iwangis, imukhâ. Resent, v. [rizént] Resentirse. Magtampó, sumamâ ang loob. Resentful, adj. [riséntful] Resentido; sensible. Matatampuhin. Resentment, n. [riséntment] Resentimiento. Pagtatampó. Reservation, n. [reservécion] Reservacion, reserva. Pagtataan, paglalaan, pag-iimpok. Reserve, v. [risérv] Reservar. Magtaan, maglaan, mag-impok. Reservedly, adj. [risérvedli] Reservadamente; con disimulo. Palihím, palingíd; pakunwâ. Reset, v. [risét] Recibir géneros hurtados. Tumanggap ng mga ba-gay na nakaw. Reside, v. [risáid] Residir, morar. Manahan, tumahan. Residence, n. [résidens] Residencia, domicilio. Táhanan, tírahan. Resident, n. [résident] Residente. Ang naninirahan. Residuary, adj. [risídiueri] Resto, residuo. Tirá, labis. Residue, n. [rézidiu] Residuo, resto. Labis, tirá. Residuum, n. [risídiuoem] Residuo. Kalabisan. Resign, v. [risáin] Resignar, renunciar. Magbitiw ng tungkol ó katungkulan, tumiwalag. Resignation, n. [resignécion] Resignacion. Pagbibitíw ng tungkol. Resin, n. [résin] Resina. Sahing, dagtang namuô. Resist, v. [risíst] Resistir, rechazar. Lumaban, bumabag; magtulak. Resistance, n. [resístans] Resistencia; defensa. Paglaban, pagbabag; panananggalang, pananalag. Resolute, adj. [résoliut] Resuelto; constante. Natatalaga, handâ; matiyagâ. Resolution, n. [resoliúcion] Resolucion, determinacion. Pasiya, pagtalagá. Resolve, v. [risólv] Resolver. Pasiyahán. Resonance, n. [résonans] Resonancia, retumbo. Taginting, alingawngaw. Resonant, adj. [résonant] Resonante, retumbante; sonoro. Mataginting, maalíngawngaw; matunog. Resort, n. [risórt] Concurso, concurrencia. Pagdaló, pagdulog. Resort, v. [risórt] Acudir, concurrir. Dumaló, dumulog. Resound, v. [risáund] Resonar, retumbar. Tumaginting. Resource, n. [risórs] Recurso. Pananaulì. Respect, n. [rispéct] Respeto, veneracion. Galang, pitagan. Respect, v. [rispéct] Respetar, venerar. Gumalang, magpitagan. Respectability, n. [rispectábiliti] Consideracion, caracter respetable. Alang-alang, pitagan, pakundangan. Respectable, adj. [rispéctabl] Respetable, considerable. Kagalanggalang. Respectful, adj. [rispéctful] Respetuoso. Magalang, mapagpitagan. Respecting, prep. [rispécting] Con respecto á. Tungkol sa, hinggil sa. Respective, adj. [rispéctiv] Respectivo, relativo. Nauukol, nahihinggil. Respiration, n. [respirécion] Respiracion. Hingá. Respire, v. [rispáir] Resollar, respirar. Humingá. Respite, n. [réspit] Suspensión, respiro. Pag-ampat, pagpapatigil, pagpapahingá. Respite, v. [réspit] Suspender, diferir; dar treguas. Ampatin, ipatigil; ipagpaliban; magpalugid. Resplendence, n. [rispléndens] Resplandor, brillo. Liwanag, liwayway. Resplendency = Resplendence. Resplendent, adj. [rispléndent] Resplandeciente, brillante. Maliwanag, maningning. Respond, v. [rispónd] Responder; corresponder. Sumagot, tumugon, gantihín. Respondent, n. [rispóndent] Respondedor. Ang sumasagot, tagasagot, palasagot. Response, n. [rispóns] Respuesta, réplica. Sagót, kasagutan. Responsibility, n. [risponsabíliti] Responsabilidad. Ságutin, saságutin. Responsible, adj. [rispónsibl] Responsable. Nananagot, dapat managot. Rest, n. [rest] Descanso, reposo; resto, residuo. Pahingá, kapahingahan; labí, tirá, labis. Rest, v. [rest] Descansar, dormir, reposar; quedar, permanecer. Magpahinga, matulog, magpahingalay; mátira, málabi. Restaurant, n. [restaúrant] Restaurant. Kárihan, restauránt. Restitution, n. [restitiúcion] Restitución, recobro. Pagsasaulì, pag-uulì. Restive, adj. [réstiv] Repropio, pertinaz. Mapagmatigas, matigas ang ulo. Restless, adj. [réstles] Insomne, desasosegado; inquieto. Walang pahingá, balisá; malikót. Restoration, n. [restorécion] Restauracion. Pananaulì, pagkabawì. Restore, v. [ristór] Restituir, reponer, restaurar, recuperar. Isaulì, ibalík; panauliin, panumbalikin; bawiin. Restrain, n. [ristrén] Refrenamiento, constreñimiento. Paghihigpít, pagpigil, pagbabawà. Restrain, v. [ristrén] Restringir, restriñir. Higpitán, pigilin, bawaan. Restrict, v. [ristríct] Restringir, limitar. Higpitan, taningan. Restriction, n. [ristríccion] Restriccion. Paghihigpit. Result, n. [risált] Resulta, resultado, consecuencia. Bunga, nápapalâ, nangyari. Result, v. [risált] Resultar. Mangyari, mápalâ. Resume, v. [risiúm] Reasumir, empezar de nuevo. Mulíng pasimulán. Resumption, n. [risampcion] Reasuncion. Muling pagsisimulâ. Resurrection, n. [resuréccion] Resureccion. Pagkabuhay na mulî. Resuscitate, v. [risúsitet] Resucitar. Buhayin ulî. Retail, n. [rítel] Venta por menor. Tingî, ámot. Retail, v. [ritél] Vender por menor. Magtingî, mag-amot. Retain, v. [ritén] Retener; guardar. Bimbinin, pigilin; ingatan. Retake, v. [riték] Volver á tomar. Kuning mulî. Retaliate, v. [ritáliet] Talionar, pagar en la misma moneda. Gantihin, bayaran ng gaya ng ipinautang. Retaliation, n. [ritaliécion] Desquite, desagravio. Gantí, higantí. Retard, v. [ritárd] Retardar, prolongar, diferir. Papagtagalín, papaglwatin, ipagpaliban. Retardation, n. [ritardécion] Retardacion. Pagpapatagal, pagpapalwat. Retch, v. [retch] Esforzarse á vomitar. Magpasuka. Retention, n. [riténcion] Retencion; memoria. Pagbinbin, pag-antala; pag-aalala. Retentive, adj. [riténtiv] Retentivo. Matatandain. Reticence, n. [rétisens] Reticencia. Pagkauntol, pagkakaungtol. Reticency = Reticence. Reticle, n. [réticl] Redecilla. Supotsuputan. Reticule, n. [retíkiul] Sakita. Supotsuputan. Retina, n. [rétina] Retina. Bilot ng matá. Retire, v. [ritáir] Retirar [se]; apartar. Umuwî, umurong; humiwalay, umilag. Retirement, n. [ritáirment] Retiro, retiramiento. Paghiwalay, pananahimik. Retort, n. [ritórt] Redargüición, retorta. Pagbaligtad ng pangangatwiran. Retort, v. [ritórt] Redargüir, retorcer un argumento. Bumaligtad ng pangangatwiran, maglihís ng pagmamatwid. Retouch, v. [ritoech] Retocar. Retokahin, ayusin. Retrace, v. [ritrés] Volver á seguir las huellas ó pisadas de alguno. Mulíng tahakin. Retract, v. [ritráct] Retraer, retractar. Paurungin; bawiin ang sinabi; talikwasan; magkulì. Retreat, n. [ritrít] Retirada; retiro, soledad. Pag-urong; pag-uwî; pag-iisa. Retreat, v. [ritrít] Retirarse, refugiarse. Umurong, umuwî. Retrenchment, n. [ritrénchment] Atrincheramiento; trinchera. Pagkukutà, pagtitrinchera; kutà; trinchera. Retribution, n. [retribiúcion] Retribucion, recompensa. Pabuyà, gantí, upa, bayad. Retrievable, adj. [ritrívabl] Recuperable; reparable. Nababawì; náisasaulî. Retrieve, v. [ritrív] Recuperar, restablecer, restaurar. Bawiin, isaulì. Retrograde, adj. [rétrogred] Retrógrado. Pauróng, pabalík. Retrograde, v. [rétrogred] Retrogradar, retroceder. Umurong, bumalik. Retrogression, n. [retrogrécion] Retrogradación. Pag-urong, pagbalik. Retrospect, v. [rétrospect] Consideracion ó reflexion de las cosas pasadas. Paglingon sa nagdaan. Retrospective, adj. [retrospéctiv] Retrospectivo, que considera las cosas pasadas. Palalingon sa nakaraan. Return, n. [ritárn] Retorno, regreso, vuelta; recompensa, retribucion, cambio. Pagbalik, pag-uwî, pagpihit; kagantihan, bayad, pagsasaulì, palít, suklî. Return, v. [ritárn] Volver; repetir; restituir, retribuir. Magbalik; umulit; magsaulì, gumantí. Reunion, n. [riúnion] Reunion. Umpukan, katipunan, pulutong. Reunite, v. [riunait] Reunir; reunirse. Magtipon ó magpisan-ulî; mag-umpukan, magtitipon. Reveal, v. [rivíl] Revelar, manifestar. Ihayag, ilitaw, ipahayag. Revel, n. [rével] Jarana, borrachera. Pagsasayá, pagkakatwâ. Revel, v. [rével] Jaranear, divertirse con grande ruido. Magsayá, magkatwâ. Revelation, n. [revelécion] Revelación. Pahayag. Revelry, n. [révelri] Jarana, borrachera. Kasayahan, kátwaan. Revenge, n. [rivéndch] Venganza. Higantí. Revenge, v. [rivéndch] Vengar. Manghigantí. Revengeful, adj. [rivéndchful] Vengativo. Mapanghigantí. Revenue, n. [réveniu] Renta, rédito. Bwis, tubò, pakinabang. Reverberate, v. [rivérberet] Reverberar, resonar. Umalingawngaw, tumaginting, kumalansing. Reverberation, n. [riverberécion] Reverberación. Alingawngaw, taginting. Rever, v. [rivír] Reverenciar, respetar. Gumalang, magpitagan. Reverence, n. [réverens] Reverencia, respeto. Galang, pitagan. Reverence, v. [réverens] Reverenciar, venerar. Gumalang, magpitagan. Reverend, adj. [réverend] Reverendo, venerable. Kagalanggalang. Reverent, adj. [réverent] Reverente, respetuoso. Magalang, mapagpitagan. Reverential = Reverent. Reversal, n. [rivérsal] Revocacion de una sentencia. Pagbabago ng hatol. Reverse, n. [rivérs] Reverso. Kabaligtarán. Reverse, v. [rivérs] Trastrocar, volver al revés. Baligtarín. Reversion, n. [rivérsion] Reversión. Pagkabaligtad. Revert, v. [rivért] Trastrocar, volverse atrás. Baligtarín, iurong. Review, n. [riviú] Revista, reseña. Pagsisiyasat, pagtatalâ. Review, v. [riviú] Rever, examinar; revistar. Muling tignang, lumitis; sumiyasat. Revile, v. [riváil] Ultrajar, despreciar, disfamar. Lumait, umalipustâ, manirang puri. Revise, n. [riváis] Revista. Muling pagtingin ó pagmamasid. Revise, v. [riváis] Rever. Mulíng tignán. Revision, n. [rivísion] Revision. Mulíng pagmamasíd. Revival, n. [riváival] Restauracion, restablecimiento. Mulíng pagbabangon, muling pagkatatag. Revive, v. [riváiv] Revivir, restablecer. Buhayin, itatag na mulî. Revocation, n. [rivokécion] Revocacion. Pagbabago. Revoke, v. [rivók] Revocar; anular. Baguhin, pawalan ng halagá. Revolt, v. [rivólt] Rebelarse, sublevarse, amotinarse. Manghimangsík, mag-alsá. Revolt, n. [rivólt] Revuelta, rebelión, levantamiento. Panghihimagsík, pag-aalsá. Revolution, n. [rivoliúcion] Revolucion. Hímagsikan. Revolutionary, adj. [revoliúcioneri] Revolucionario. Nauukol sa himagsikan, mapanghimagsik. Revolutionist, adj. [rivoliúcioníst] Revolucionario. Mapanghimagsík. Revolve, v. [rivólv] Revolver, arrollar, girar circularmente. Labukawin, haluin; paikutin, painugin. Revolver, n. [rivólver] Revolver, pistola. Rebolber. Revulsion, n. [rivélcion] Revulsion. Alibadbad. Reward, n. [riwórd] Premio, recompensa. Ganting palà, gantí, kagantihan. Reward, v. [riwórd] Premiar, recompensar. Gantihin, pagkalooban ng ganting-palà. Rhetoric, n. [rétoric] Retórica. Retórika ó karunungan sa pananalitâ. Rhetorical, adj. [retórical] Retórico. Nauukol sa retórika. Rheum, n. [riúm] Reuma. Reyuma (sakít). Rheumatism, n. [riúmatism] Reumatismo. Reyumatismo. Rhomb, n. [rom] Rombo. Aapáting gilid na magkakagaya at panulukang magkakaiba. Rhyme, n. [ráim] Rima, consonancia; poesía ó poema. Pagkakatugmaan ng mga tinig; tulâ, berso. Rhyme, v. [ráim] Versificar; rimar. Tumulâ; magtugmâ ng mga tinig. Rhymester, n. [ráimster] Versista. Mánunulà. Rib, n. [rib] Costilla. Tadyáng. Ribald, n. [ríbold] Hombre lascivo. Malibog. Ribbon, n. [ríbon] Liston, cinta. Listón, sintás. Rice, n. [ráis] Arroz; morisqueta. Bigas, palay; kanin. Rich, adj. [rich] Rico, opulento; precioso. Mayaman; mahalagá. Riches, n. [riches] Riqueza. Yaman, kayamanan. Rick, n. [ric] Niara, pila de cereal. Mandalâ. Rickets, n. [ríkets] Raquítis. Sakít ng ulo. Rickety, adj. [ríketi] Raquítico, caduco. Unsyamì, pyangod. Rid, v. [rid] Librar, desembarazar. Palayain, pawalán. Riddance, n. [rídans] Libramiento. Pagliligtas. Riddle, n. [rídl] Enigma, adivinanza; criba. Bugtungan, turingán; bithay. Riddle, v. [rídl] Cribar. Magbithay. Ride, n. [ráid] Paseo á caballo ó en coche. Pangangabayo, pangangarwahe. Ride, v. [ráid] Cabalgar, andar en coche ó carruage. Mangabayo, mangarwahe. Rider, n. [ráider] Cabalgador. Ang nangangabayo, ang nangangarwahe. Ridge, n. [ridch] Lomo; cumbre. Balakang; pulupo, taluktok, tugatog. Ridicule, n. [rídikiul] Ridiculez, ridículo. Katwâ, kakatwâ, tuksúhin, líbakin. Ridicule, v. [rídikiul] Ridiculizar, escarnecer. Pagtawanan, libakín. Ridiculous, adj. [ridíkiuloes] Ridículo, risible. Kakatwâ, nakákatawa. Rife, adj. [ráif] Comun, frecuente. Karaniwan. Riffraff, n. [rífraf] Desecho, desperdicio. Tapon. Rifle, n. [ráifl] Carabina. Riple, baríl. Rifle, v. [ráifl] Robar, pillar. Magnakaw, mangloob. Rig, n. [rig] Vehículo; aparejo. Sasakyan; kasangkapan. Rig, v. [rig] Ataviar. Magsangkap, gumayak. Rigging, n. [ríguing] Aparejo; vestido. Kasangkapan; damít. Right, adj. [ráit] Derecho, recto, justo. Matwid, tamà, hustó. Right, n. [ráit] Razon, derecho, rectitud. Katwiran, karampatan. Righteous, adj. [ráitias] Justo, recto. Ganap, banal, tapat. Righteousness, n. [ráitiasnes] Justicia, rectitud. Kaganapan, kabanalan. Rigid, adj. [rídchid] Rígido, severo, áustero. Mahigpít, masungít mabagsik. Rigidity, n. [ridchíditi] Rigidez, austeridad. Paghihigpít, sungít, bagsik. Rigmarole, n. [rígmarol] Confusion, desorden. Kagusutan, kaguluhan. Rigor, n. [rígor] Rigor, severidad, austeridad. Higpít, bagsík. Rigorous, adj. [rígoros] Rigoroso, severo. Mahigpít, mabagsik. Rill, n. [ril] Riachuelo. Bangbang, munting ilog, sapà. Rim, n. [rim] Canto, borde, orilla. Kantó, gilid, bingit, bu-ngangà, tabí. Rime, n. [ráim] Escarcha; resquicio, hendedura, agujero. Patak ng hamog na namumuò; pwang, bitak, butas. Rind, n. [ráind] Corteza, hollejo. Upak, balat. Rinderpest, n. [rínderpest] Peste de carabaos. Salot ng kalabaw. Ring, n. [ring] Anillo, círculo, cero. Singsing; buklod, bilog. Ring, v. [ring] Sonar, tocar. Magpataginting, tumugtog ng batingaw. Ringer, n. [rínguer] Campanero. Kampanero, tagatugtog ng batingaw. Ringleader, n. [rínglider] Cabeza de partido ó bando. Pangulo ng lápian ó pulutong. Ringlet, n. [ringlet] Anillejo, círculo. Siningsing, buklod. Riot, n. [ráiot] Tumulto, bullicio, alboroto. Kaguló, kaingay, sigalot. Riot, v. [ráiot] Causar alborotos. Mangguló, mag-ingay. Riotous, adj. [ráietos] Bullicioso, sedicioso. Magulo, manggugúlo. Rip, v. [rip] Rasgar, lacerar. Tastasin, laplapín. Ripe, adj. [ráip] Maduro, sazonado. Hinog, magulang. Ripen, v. [ráipn] Madurar. Pahinugín; mahinog. Ripple, n. [ripl] Agitacion del agua que mana ó hierve á borbollones. Galaw ó kulô ng tubig, bulwak. Rise, n. [ráis] Levantamiento, elevación. Pagbabangon, pagtindig, pagtaas. Rise, v. [ráis] Levantarse, ponerse en pié; salir el sol; sublevarse; elevarse. Bumangon, tumindig, tumayô; sumikat, mag-alsá; tumaas. Risible, adj. [rísibl] Risible. Nakákatawa. Risk, n. [risk] Riesgo, peligro. Panganib. Risk, v. [risk] Arriesgar, aventurar, exponer. Mangahás, sumapanganib. Rite, n. [ráit] Rito, la ceremonia y regla establecida por la iglesia. Rito, pamamalakad sa simbahan. Rival, adj. & n. [ráival] Émulo, contrario; rival, competidor. Kaagawán, kalaban. Rival, v. [ráival] Competir, emular. Makipag-agawán, makipaglaban. Rivalry, n. [ráivalri] Rivalidad, emulacion. Pag-aagawan, paglalaban. Rivalship = Rivalry. Rive, v. [ráiv] Rajar, hender. Sumipak, sumibak, lumahang. River, n. [ríver] Rio. Ilog. Rivet, n. [rívet] Remache; roblon. Tutóp, tupî, silsíl. Rivet, v. [rívet] Remachar, roblar. Tutupán, tupiin, silsilín. Rivulet, n. [ríviulet] Riachuelo. Sapà, ilog-ilugan. Roach, n. [roch] Cucaracha. Ipis. Road, n. [rod] Camino. Daan, lansangan. Roadstead, n. [ródsted] Rada. Punduhan. Roam, v. [rom] Tunar, andar vagando. Lumaboy, gumalà. Roan, adj. [ron] Roano. Rosilyo. Roar, n. [ror] Rugido, el bramido del leon. Angal, ungal. Roar, v. [ror] Rugir, bramar. Umangal, umungal. Roast, n. [rost] Cosa asada ó tostada. Inihaw, sinangag. Roast, v. [rost] Asar, tostar. Mag-ihaw, magsangag. Rob, v. [rob] Robar, hurtar. Mag-ihaw, mang-umit. Robber, n. [róber] Robador, ladron. Magnanakaw. Robbery, n. [róberi] Robo. Nakawán, pagnanakaw. Robe, n. [rob] Manto, toga. Balabal. Robust, adj. [róbust] Robusto, vigoroso. Matabâ, malakás. Rock, n. [roc] Roca, peñasco. Malaking bato, bundok na bató. Rock, v. [roc] Mecer, arrullar; calmar, sosegar. Iyugoy, ipagduyan; datahanin, patigilin. Rocket, n. [róket] Cohete. Kwites. Rocky, adj. [róki] Peñascoso. Mabató. Rod, n. [rod] Varilla, verga, caña. Baras, tukod, tungkod. Rodent, adj. [ródent] Roedor. Mapagngatngat. Roe, n. [ro] Corzo. Usang babae. Rogue, n. [rog] Bribon, pícaro, ruin. Tampalasan, malikot. Roguery, n. [rógueri] Picardía, ruindad. Katampalasanan. Roguish, adj. [róguish] Pícaro; jugueton, chistoso. Lapastangan; palalarô, palabirô. Roll, n. [rol] Rodadura; rollo; catálogo. Gúlong, ikot, pihit; rolyo; tálaan. Roll, v. [rol] Rodar, girar. Gumulong, umikot, pumihit. Roller, n. [róler] Rodillo. Rodilyo. Romance, n. [rómans] Romance, ficcion, cuento. Kwento. Romp, n. [romp] Muchacha, retozona. Kirí, landî, hitad. Romp, v. [romp] Retozar. Kumirí, lumandî. Roof, n. [ruf] Tejado. Bubungan, pulupo. Roof, v. [ruf] Techar. Magbubong. Rookery, n. [rúkeri] Lugar sospechoso. Dakong nakapaghihinalà. Room, n. [rum] Cuarto, aposento, cámara. Silíd, kwarto, salas. Roominess, n. [rúmines] Espacio, lugar. Lwang, dako. Roomy, adj. [rúmi] Espacioso. Malwang, malwag. Roost, n. [rust] Pértiga del gallinero. Hapunán ng manók. Roost, v. [rust] Dormir las aves en una pértiga. Humapon [ang manok]. Root, n. [rut] Raiz; origen. Ugat; pinagmulán. Root, v. [rut] Arraigar [se]. Mag-ugat. Rope, n. [rop] Cuerda, soga, cordel. Lubid, pisì panalì. Rope, v. [rop] Hacer hebras ó madeja. Lubirin, pisiin. Rosary, n. [rósari] Rosario. Rosaryo, kwintas na dásalan. Rose, n. [ros] Rosa. Rosas. Roseate, adj. [rósiet] Lleno de rosas. Marosas. Rosemary, n. [rósmeri] Romero. Romero. Rosin, n. [rósin] Trementina. Lunay, resina. Rosy, adj. [rósi] Róseo. Kulay rosas. Rot, n. [rot] Putrefaccion, pudredumbre. Kabulukan, sirà. Rot, v. [rot] Podrirse, corromperse. Mabulok, masirà. Rotary, adj. [rótari] Lo que da vueltas como una rueda. Umiikot, pumipihit, imiikit. Rotation, n. [rotécion] Rotación. Ikot, ikit, pihit. Rotten, adj. [rótn] Podrido, corrompido. Bulok, sirâ. Rottenness, n. [rótennes] Podredumbre, putrefaccion. Kabulukan, sirà. Rotund, adj. [roténd] Rotundo, redondo. Mabilog, buô. Rotundity, n. [roténditi] Rotundidad, redondez. Bilog, kabilugan; kabuoan. Rouge, adj. [rudch] Colorado, encarnado. Mapulá. Rouge, n. [rudch] Colorete. Pulbós na pangpapulá ng pisngí. Rough, adj. [rof] Áspero, tosco; grosero, insolente; tempestuoso, borrascoso. Magaspáng; bastós; maunós. Roughness, n. [rófnes] Aspereza, rudeza, tosquedad. Kagaspangan, kabastusan. Round, adj. [ráund] Redondo, circular. Mabilog. Round, n. [ráund] Círculo, redondez. Bilog. Round, v. [ráund] Redondear. Bilugin. Roundish, adj. [ráundish] Lo que es casi redondo. Mabilogbilóg. Rouse, v. [ráus] Despertar, exitar. Gumising, pumukaw. Rout, n. [ráut] Rota, derrota. Pagkadaig, pagkasupil, pagsukò. Rout, v. [ráut] Derrotar, destruir. Dumaig, sumupil. Route, n. [ráut] Ruta, rumbo. Daan. Routine, n. [rutín] Rutina, práctica. Kinabihasnan. Rove, v. [rov] Corretear, vagar, vaguear. Maggalâ, gumalà, lumaboy. Row, n. [ro] Hilera. Hanáy, hilera. Row, v. [ro] Remar, bogar. Gumaod, sumagwán. Rowdy, adj. & n. [ráudi] Alborotador, pillo. Maguló, maingay, switik. Rowlocks, n. [rólocs] Chamuceras. Lalagyan ng gaod at sagwán. Royal, adj. [róyal] Real, noble; regio, magestuoso. Mainam, marangal; nauukol sa harì. Royalist, n. [róyalist] Realista. Tapat na loob sa harì. Royalty, n. [róyalti] Realeza, dignidad real. Pagkaharí. Rub, n. [rab] Frotamiento. Pahid, dampî, kuskos. Rub, v. [rab] Estregar, fregar; rozar, frotar. Pahiran, dampiin, punasan, kuskusín. Rubber, n. [ráber] El que estrega alguna cosa. Pamahid. Rubify, v. [riúbifai] Rubificar. Pumulahín. Ruby, n. [riúbi] Rubí. Rubí [batong mahál]. Rudder, n. [rúder] Timon. Ugit. Ruddy, adj. [rúdi] Colorado, rubio. Mapulá. Rude, adj. [rúd] Rudo, rústico; tosco, ignorante. Bastos, magaspang; masamang turò, walang turò, musmós. Rudiment, n. [rúdiment] Rudimentos. Pasimulâ, pinagmulan. Rue, v. [riu] Llorar, lamentar, compadecerse. Umiyak, tumangis; mahambal. Rueful, adj. [riúful] Lamentable, lastimoso. Kahambalhambal, kahapishapis. Ruff, n. [roef] Lechuguilla. Pileges. Ruffian, n. [rúfian] Rufián, alcahuete. Nangangalakal ng babae, bugaw. Ruffle, n. [rafl] Vuelta ó puño de camisola. Lupì, tupî; lilís. Rug, n. [rag] Ruedo, tapete. Baníg na panapín. Rugged, adj. [rágued] Aspero, tosco. Magaspang, bastos. Rugose, adj. [riugós] Rugoso. Makubot, makunót. Ruin, n. [rúin] Ruina, perdicion. Pagkaguhô, pagkapahamak. Ruin, v. [rúin] Arruinar, destruir. Iguhô, ipahamak. Ruinous, adj. [ruínoes] Ruinoso, pernicioso. Nakapagpapahamak, nakasisirà. Rule, n. [rul] Regla; mando; modelo, ejemplo. Ayos, regla; utos, pátakaran, ulirán. Rule, v. [rul] Gobernar, mandar. Magpunò, mamahalà, magharì. Ruler, n. [rúler] Gobernador. Tagapamahalà. Rum, n. [rom] Ron. Alak. Rumble, n. [rómbl] Crujir. Humaginit, humugong. Ruminant, adj. [riúminant] Rumiador. Ngumunguyâ, ngumangatâ. Ruminate, v. [riúminet] Rumiar. Ngumuyâ, ngumatâ. Rumination, n. [riuminécion] Rumia. Nguyâ, ngatâ. Rummage, n. [rámedch] Tumulto. Kaguló. Rummage, v. [rámedch] Trastornar. Mangguló. Rumor, n. [riúmor] Rumor. Balitang alingawngaw. Rumor, v. [riúmor] Divulgar alguna noticia. Magkalat ng balità; umalingawngaw. Rump, n. [romp] Rabadilla ó obispillo de ave. Pigî ó kalamnan ng ibon. Rumple, n. [rámpl] Arruga, doblez ó pliegue. Kubot, lupì, pileges. Run, n. [ran] Corrida, carrera. Takbó, karimot. Run, v. [ran] Correr. Tumakbó, kumarimot. Rung, n. [rang] Escalon, peldaño. Baytang. Runner, n. [ráner] Corredor. Tagatakbó. Rupture, n. [rápchur] Rompimiento, rotura. Pagkakásirâ; basag, sirà, wasák, gahì. Rupture, v. [rápchur] Reventar, romper ó hacer pedazos una cosa. Masirà, mabasag. Rural, adj. [riúral] Rural, campesino, rústico. Nauukol sa parang ó bukid. Ruse, n. [rus] Astucia, maña. Laláng, hibò, dayà. Rush, n. [rash] Ímpetu. Kabiglaanan. Rush, v. [rash] Arrojarse, abalanzarse. Magbiglâ, dumaluhong. Rusk, n. [rosc] Galleta. Biskwít. Russet, adj. [réset] Bermejizo. Mapulápulá. Rust, n. [rast] Orín. Kalawang. Rust, v. [rast] Enmohecerse. Kalawangin. Rustic, adj. [rústic] Rústico, agreste, villano. Magaspang, bastos, hamak. Rustic, n. [rústic] Villano, rústico. Taong bukid, taong bundok, tagaitaas. Rusticate, v. [rústiket] Residir ó vivir en el campo. Manahan sa bukiran ó kaparangan. Rusticity, n. [rustísiti] Rusticidad, grosería, rudeza. Gaspang, kagaspangan, kabastusan. Rustle, v. [rasl] Crujir, rechinar. Kumaluskos, lumagitik. Rusty, adj. [rásti] Mohoso. Makalawang. Rut, n. [roet] Bramar. Umungal. Ruth, n. [riúz] Compasion, conmiseracion. Habag, awà. Ruthless, adj. [riúzles] Cruel, insensible. Walang habag, walang awà. S S, [es] S (ese). S (sa). Sabbath, n. [sábaz] Dia de descanso. Araw na kapahingahan. Sable, n. [sebl] Sable. Sable, tabak. Sabre, n. [séber] Sable. Sable, tabak. Sacerdotal, adj. [sacerdótal] Sacerdotal. Nauukol sa parè. Sack, n. [sac] Saco. Bayong, supot. Sacrament, n. [sácrament] Sacramento. Sakramento. Sacramental, adj. [sacraméntal] Sacramental. Nauukol sa sakramento. Sacred, adj. [sécred] Sagrado, sacro. Banal na bagay, nátatalaga sa Dyos. Sacrifice, n. [sacrifaiz] Sacrificio. Hain, alay. Sacrifice, v. [sacrifaiz] Sacrificar. Maghain, mag-alay. Sacrilege, n. [sácriledch] Sacrilegio. Kapaslangan sa Dyos. Sacrilegious, adj. [sacrilídches] Sacrílego. Lapastangan sa Dyos ó sa nauukol sa Kanya. Sad, adj. [sed] Triste, melancólico. Malungkot, mapanglaw. Sadden, v. [sáden] Entristecer, contristar. Malungkot, mamanlaw. Sadness, n. [sédnes] Tristeza, pesadumbre, melancolía. Lungkot, malungkot, panlaw, kapanlawan, lumbay, kalumbayan. Saddle, n. [sadl] Silla de montar. Siyá ng kabayo. Saddle, v. [sadl] Ensillar. Siyahán ang kabayo. Safe, adj. [sef] Seguro, libre de todo peligro. Tiwasay, ligtas. Safe, n. [sef] Despensa. Kahang bakal. Safeguard, n. [séfgard] Salvaguardia, defensa. Tagapagsanggalang, bantay. Safety, n. [séfti] Seguridad, salvamento. Katiwasayan, kaligtasan. Saffron, n. [sáfærn] Azafran. Asaprán. Sagacious, adj. [seguéciæs] Sagaz, sutil, penetrante. Tuso, switik, matalinò. Sagaciousness, n. [seguéciesnes] Sagacidad, astucia. Katusuhan, kaswitikan, katalinuan. Sagacity = Sagaciousness. Sage, n. [sedch] Salvia; sabio. Sambóng; taong marunong. Sago, n. [ségo] Zagú. Sagó. Sail, n. [sel] Vela. Layag. Sail, v. [sel] Dar á la vela, navegar. Maglayág. Sailer, n. [seíler] Navío, buque. Sasakyang may layag. Sailor, n. [sélor] Marinero. Magdadagát, marinero. Saint, n. [seínt] Santo. Banal, santo. Saintliness, n. [séntlines] Santidad. Kabanalan, kasantosan. Sake, n. [seíc] Causa, razón; respeto, consideracion. Sanghî, dahilan; alang-alang. Salad, n. [sálad] Ensalada. Ensalada. Salary, n. [sálary] Salario. Bayad, sahod, kita, upa. Sale, n. [sel] Venta. Pagbibilí, pagtitinda, paglalakô. Saleable, adj. [sélabl] Vendible. Mabilí. Salesman, n. [sélsman] Ropero. Ang nagbibili ng mga bagong damit. Salient, adj. [sélient] Saliente, saledizo. Nakalabás, nakalawít. Saline, adj. [seláin] Salino. May asín. Saliva, n. [saláiva] Saliva. Laway. Sallow, adj. [sálo] Descolorido, pálido. Maputlâ, putlain. Sallowness, n. [sálones] Palidez. Putlâ, kaputlaan. Sally, n. [sáli] Salida; arrancada. Palabas, pamimiglas. Sally, v. [sáli] Salir. Lumabás. Salmon, n. [sámon] Salmon. Salmón. Saloon, n. [salún] Salon. Kabahayán, salón. Salt, adj. [solt] Salado. Maalat, inasnan. Salt, n. [solt] Sal. Asín. Salt, v. [solt] Salar. Asnán, asinán. Saltish, n. [sóltish] Algo salado. Makasím. Salubrious, adj. [seliúbrioes] Salubre, saludable. Nakagagaling, nakabubuti ng katawan. Salubrity, n. [seliúbriti] Salubridad. Kagalingan, kabutihan ng katawan. Salutary, adj. [sáliuteri] Salubre, salutífero. Nakagagaling, nakaiigi. Salutation, n. [saliutécion] Salutacion. Batì, pugay, yukod. Salute, v. [saliút] Saludar. Bumatì, magpugay, yumukod. Salvage, n. [sálvedch] Derecho de salvamento. Seguro ng sasakyan. Salvation, n. [salvécion] Salvacion. Kaligtasan. Salve, n. [sav] Emplasto. Panapal, emplasto. Salver, n. [sálver] Bandeja. Bandeha. Salvo, n. [sálvo] Reservacion; excusa. Pagtataan; dahilán. Same, adj. [sem] Mismo; idéntico. Rin, ngâ; kagaya, kapara. Sameness, n. [sémnes] Identidad. Pagkakapara, pagkakatulad. Sample, n. [sámpl] Muestra, ejemplo. Parisán, mwestra, halimbawà. Sample, v. [sámpl] Ejemplificar. Magpakitang ulirán. Sanative, adj. [sánativ] Curativo. Nakagagalíng. Sanctification, n. [sanctifikécion] Santificacion, consagracion. Pagpapakasanto, pagtalagá. Sanctify, v. [sánctifai] Santificar. Ariing banal ó sagrado, italagá. Sanction, n. [sánccion] Sancion. Pahintulot, kapahintulután, payag. Sanction, v. [sánccion] Sancionar. Pahintulutan, payagan. Sanctuary, n. [sánctiueri] Santuario, lugar santo. Dakong banal, santwaryo. Sand, n. [sænd] Arena. Buhangin. Sand, v. [sænd] Enarenar. Magbudbod ng buhangin. Sandal, n. [sándal] Sandalia. Sandalyás, sinelas. Sanded, adj. [sánded] Arenoso. Mabuhangin. Sand-paper, n. [sánd-peper] Papel de lija. Papel de liha. Sandy, adj. [sándi] Arenoso. Mabuhangin. Sane, adj. [sen] Sano. Magalíng, walang sakít. Saneness, n. [sénnes] Sanidad. Kagalingan, galíng, pagkawalang sakít. Sanguinary, n. [sanguíneri] Sanguinario, cruel, inhumano. Mabagsik, mabangis, tampalasan. Sanguine, adj. [sánguin] Sanguineo, lo que es de color de sangre. Madugô, kulay-dugô. Sanguineous, adj. [sanguínoes] Sanguíneo. May maraming dugô, madugô. Sanity, n. [sániti] Juicio, sano; sanidad. Bait; galíng ng katawan. Sap, n. [sap] Savia. Katás, gatâ, dagtâ. Sap, v. [sap] Zapar. Magpala; palahin. Sapient, adj. [sépient] Sabio. Marunong, pantás, pahám. Sapling, n. [sápling] Renuevo. Swí, suplíng. Sapper, n. [sáper] Zapador. Tagapala. Sappy, adj. [sápi] Jugoso. Madagtâ; makatas. Sarcasm, n. [sárcazm] Sarcasmo, burla ó sátira picante. Uyam, tuyâ, birong nakasasakít. Sarcastic, adj. [sarcástic] Mordaz, picante, caustico. Nakasasakit ng loob, tuyá, uyám. Sardine, n. [sárdin] Sardina. Sardinas. Sash, n. [sash] Cíngulo, cinta. Talì ó sintas na pamigkis. Satan, n. [sátan] Satanás. Satanás. Satanic, adj. [setánic] Diabólico, infernal. Nauukol sa demonyo, nauukol sa dyablo. Satchel, n. [sáchel] Mochila, talega. Sako de noche. Satellite, n. [sátelait] Satélite. Kampón. Satiate, v. [séciet] Saciar, hartar. Mabusog, mabundat. Satiety, n. [setáieti] Saciedad, hartura. Kabusugan, kabundatan. Satin, n. [sátin] Raso. Raso. Satire, n. [sátair] Sátira. Tuyâ, uyam. Satiric, adj. [satíric] Sátiro. Mánunuyâ, mang-uuyam. Satirical = Satiric. Satirize, v. [sátiraiz] Satirizar. Manuyâ, mang-uyám. Satisfaction, n. [satisfáccion] Satisfaccion. Kasiyahan. Satisfactory, adj. [satisfáctori] Satisfactorio. Nakasisiya. Satisfy, v. [sátisfai] Satisfacer. Bigyan ng kasiyahán. Saturate, v. [sátiuret] Saturar. Tigmakin, ibabad, basaing maigi. Saturation, n. [satiurécion] Saturacion. Pagtigmak, pagbababad. Saturday, n. [sátarde] Sábado. Sábado. Sauce, n. [sos] Salsa. Sawsawan, sarsa. Sauce, v. [sos] Condimentar, sazonar. Lagyan ng sarsa. Saucer, n. [sóser] Salsera. Platito. Saucy, adj. [sósi] Descarado, atrevido, impudente. Walang galang, pangahas, walang hiyâ. Sausage, n. [sósedch] Salchicha, chorizo, longaniza. Langonisa, choriso. Savage, adj. & n. [sávedch] Salvaje, inculto; bárbaro. Taga gubat, taong musmos; salbahe, mabangis. Savageness, n. [sávadchnes] Salvajería, ferocidad, crueldad. Kabalakyutan, bangis, bagsik. Savanna, n. [savána] Sabana. Sabana, dakong lwal. Save, adv. [sev] Salvo, excepto. Liban, bukod sa. Save, v. [sev] Salvar; economizar. Magligtas; mag-impok. Savior, n. [sévior] Salvador. Tagapagligtas, mangliligtas. Savor, n. [sévor] Sabor, gusto. Lasa. Savor, v. [sévor] Saborear, probar. Lasahin, lasapin. Savory, n. [sévori] Sabroso. Malasa, masarap. Saw, n. [so] Sierra. Lagarè. Saw, v. [so] Serrar, aserrar. Lumagarè. Sawdust, n. [sódast] Aserraduras. Pinaglagarian. Sawmill, n. [sómil] Molino de aserrar. Lágarian. Sawyer, n. [sóyer] Aserrador. Maglalagarê, tagalagarè. Say, n. [se] Habla, la locucion. Pananalitâ. Say, v. [se] Decir. Magsabi. Saying, n. [séying] Dicho, adagio, proverbio. Kasabihán, kawikaan. Scab, n. [scáb] Costra de una herida ó úlcera, roña. Langíb. Scabbard, n. [scáboerd] Vaina de espada. Kaloban ng tabak. Scabby, adj. [scábi] Sarnoso, roñoso. Gálisin, malangíb. Scaffold, n. [scáfold] Tablado; patíbulo. Entablado; bitayán. Scald, n. [scold] Tiña. Bantal. Scald, v. [scold] Escaldar. Banlian; magbanlî. Scale, n. [skél] Balanza; escala; escama. Timbangan; kaliskis. Scale, v. [skél] Balancear, escalar; escamar. Timbangin; kaliskisan. Scalp, n. [scalp] Cráneo. Bao ng ulo, tuktok ng ulo. Scalp, v. [scalp] Levantar los tegumentos que cubren el cráneo. Talupan ang bao ng ulo. Scamper, v. [scámper] Escapar, huir. Tumaanan, tumakas. Scan, v. [scan] Escudriñar, examinar cuidadosamente. Sumiyasat, sumaliksik. Scandal, n. [scándal] Escándalo. Eskándalo, kahalayan. Scandalize, v. [scándalaiz] Escandalizar. Mag-eskandalo, humalay. Scandalous, adj. [scándaloes] Escandaloso. Eskandaloso, mahalay. Scant, adj. [scánt] Escaso, raro. Bihirà, madalang. Scantly, adv. [scántli] Escasamente. Bihirà, bahagyâ. Scantling, n. [scántling] Cantidad pequeña. Munting halagá. Scape, n. [skép] Escape; evasion. Pagtataanan, pagtakas. Scape, v. [skép] Escapar, huir. Tumaanan, tumakas. Scapula, n. [scápiula] Escápula. Butong paypay. Scar, adj. [scar] Cicatriz. Piklát. Scarce, adj. [scars] Escaso, raro. Bihirà, madalang. Scarcely, adv. [scársli] Apenas. Bahagyâ. Scarcity, n. [scársiti] Carestía, escasez. Kakulangan, kasalatan. Scare, v. [skér] Espantar, amedrentar, intimidar. Sumindak, gumitlá, tumakot. Scarecrow, n. [skércro] Espantajo. Panakot. Scarf, n. [scárf] Faja. Pamigkís, panalì. Scarfskin, n. [scárfskin] Cutícula. Kutis, balát sa ibabaw. Scarlet, n. [scárlet] Escarlata, grana. Eskarlata, grana. Scarp, n. [scárp] Escarpa. Dalisdis, dahilig. Scath, n. [scaz] Desbarate, desbarato. Kapahamakan, sakunâ. Scatter, v. [scáter] Esparcir, desparramar. Magsabog; magkalat. Scavenger, n. [scávendcher] Basurero, barrendero de calles. Tagalinis ng dumí ó ng sukal sa daan. Scene, n. [sin] Escena. Pálabasan ng dulâ, íbp., pánoorin. Scent, n. [sent] Olfato; olor. Pangamoy; amóy. Scent, v. [sent] Oler; perfumar. Amuyín; pabanguhan. Sceptre, n. [sépter] Cetro. Setro. Schedule, n. [scédiul] Esquela; cédula; inventario ó lista corta. Liham; sédula ó katibayan; tálaan. Scheme, n. [skím] Proyecto, designio, plan. Panukalà, akalà, hakà. Scheme, v. [skím] Proyectar. Magpanukalà. Schism, n. [sizm] Cisma. Pangkatin ng relihyon. Scholar, n. [scólar] Escolar, discípulo. Ang nag-aaral, alagad. Scholarship, n. [scólarship] Ciencia, educacion literaria. Karunungan, kaalaman. Scholastic, adj. [scolástic] Escolástico. Nauukol sa nag-aaral ó sa páaralan. Scholastical = scholastic. School, n. [scúl] Escuela. Páaralan, eskwelahán. School, v. [scúl] Instruir, enseñar. Magturò, umaral. Science, n. [sáiens] Ciencia, sabiduria. Karunungan, kaalaman. Scientific, adj. [saintífic] Científico. Nauukol sa karunungan. Scientifical = Scientific. Scientist, n. [saiéntist] Hombre de ciencia. Taong pantas ó paham. Scintillate, v. [síntilet] Chispear, centellear. Kumisap, kumislap. Scintillation, n. [sintilécion] Chispazo. Kisap, kislap. Scion, n. [sáion] Vástago. Suplíng, supang. Scissors, n. [sízorz] Tijeras. Gunting. Scoff, n. [scof] Mofa, escarnio, burla. Tuyâ, uyám. Scoff, v. [scof] Mofarse, burlarse. Tumuyâ, umuyám. Scoffer, n. [scófer] Mofador. Mánunuyà. Scold, n. [scold] Regañon [a]. Magagalitín. Scold, v. [scold] Regañar, reñir. Magalit, makipag-alít. Sconce, n. [scóns] Baluarte. Kutà, hadlang, sanggalang. Scoop, n. [scup] Cucharon. Panandok, pang-limás. Scoop, v. [scup] Cavar, socavar. Humukay. Scope, n. [scop] Objeto, intento, designio; blanco, espacio. Pakay, hakà, akalà, tudiâ. Scorch, v. [scorh] Chamuscar, tostar, quemar por encima ó por afuera. Isangag, ibusá, isalab. Score, n. [scor] Muesca; cuenta, deuda; línea, raya. Kutab, ukà; katuusan; utang; guhit. Score, v. [scor] Apuntar, rayar. Magtalâ; iguhit. Scorn, n. [scorn] Desden, oprobio, menosprecio. Paghalay, libak, pagpapawalang halaga, paghamak. Scorn, v. [scorn] Despreciar, envilecer, mofar, escarnecer. Humamak, humalay, tumuyâ, lumibak. Scorner, n. [scórner] Desdeñador, escarnecedor. Mánunuyà, mapaghalay. Scornful, adj. [scórnful] Desdeñoso. Mapagtuyâ. Scorpion, n. [scórpion] Escorpion, alacran. Alakdán. Scotch, n. [scotch] Cortadura, incision. Hiwà, kudlít. Scotch, v. [scotch] Escoplear, hacer muescas. Ukaan, kudlitán. Scoundrel, n. [scáundrel] Picaro, bribon. Switik, malikot. Scour, v. [scóur] Fregar, estregar. Kuskusin, kiskisin, hiluran. Scourge, n. [skoerdch] Azote; castigo. Hampás, palò; parusa. Scourge, v. [skoerdch] Azotar, castigar. Hampasín, paluin; parusahan. Scout, n. [scáut] Descubridor, explorador; espia. Mánunuklas, tagatuklas; tiktík, mánunubok. Scout, v. [scáut] Reconocer secretamente los movimientos del enemigo. Tiktikan ang kaaway. Scowl, n. [scául] Ceño, sobrecejo. Mungot, sibangot, irap. Scowl, v. [scául] Mirar con ceño, poner mala cara. Magmungot, umirap. Scrabble, v. [scrabl] Arañar. Mangalmót. Scrag, n. [scrag] Cualquiera cosa flaca. Payat, manipis. Scramble, n. [scrámbl] Disputa, pelea; arrebatiña. Pagtatalo; babág, agawán. Scramble, v. [scrámbl] Arrapar; trepar; disputar. Umagaw, mangukyabit, ipakipagtalo. Scrap, n. [scrap] Migaja, fragmento. Mumo, pútol. Scrape, n. [screp] Embarazo, dificultad. Hadlang, kapansanan. Scrape, v. [screp] Raer, raspar; arañar. Katkatín, kaskasín; kalmutín. Scraper, n. [scréper] Rascador. Kudkuran. Scratch, n. [scrátch] Rascadora; rasguño. Kamot, galos. Scratch, v. [scrátch] Rascar; rasguñar. Kamutin; kumalmot. Scrawl, n. [scrol] Garabatos. Sulat na padaskól. Scrawl, v. [scrol] Garrapatear, escribir mal. Sumulat ng padaskól. Scream, n. [scrím] Grito, chillido. Hiyaw, sigaw. Scream, v. [scrím] Gritar, chillar. Humiyaw, sumigaw. Screech, n. [scrich] Chillido, grito. Hiyaw, sigaw. Screen, n. [scrín] Biombo, mampara. Bayubo, panabing, panganlong. Screen, v. [scrín] Abrigar, esconder. Kumanlong, mangublí. Screw, n. [scriú] Tornillo. Tornilyo. Screw-driver, n. [scriu-dráiver] Destornillador. Panghugot ng tornilyo, destornilyador. Scribble, n. [scríbl] Escrito de poco mérito. Sulat na walang gasinong halagá. Scribe, n. [scráib] Escritor, escribiente. Mánunulat, tagasulat. Scrimage, n. [skrímedch] Turbamulta. Basag-ulo. Scrip, n. [scrip] Bolsa; cédula. Supot; sédula. Scriptural, adj. [scrípchural] Bíblico. Nauukol sa Biblia. Scripture, n. [scrípchur] Escritura sagrada. Banal na kasulatan. Scrivener, n. [scrívner] Escribano, notario público. Eskribano, notaryo. Scroll, n. [scról] El rollo (de papel ó pergamino). Balumbon, ikid. Scrub, n. [scrab] Belitre. Masamâ. Scruple, n. [scriúpl] Escrúpulo, duda. Hinalà, sapantahà. Scrupulous, adj. [scriúpiuloes] Escrupuloso, dudoso. Mapaghinalà, mapagsapantahà. Scrutinize, v. [scriútinaiz] Escudriñar, examinar, sondear. Siyasatin, litisin, tarukín. Scrutiny, n. [scriútini] Escrutinio, exámen. Siyasat, paglilitis. Scud, v. [skoed] Huirse, escaparse. Tumakas, magpumiglas, tumaanan. Scuffle, n. [skafl] Quimera, pendencia, riña, altercacion. Away, babag, kaingay, kaguló. Scuffle, v. [skafl] Reñir, pelear. Mag-away, magbabag. Scull, n. [skal] Cráneo, casco; remo corto. Bao (ng ulo), bungô; sagwán. Scullion, n. [skálien] Marmiton. Alilà sa kusinà. Sculptor, n. [skálptor] Escultor. Eskultor, manglililók. Sculpture, n. [skálpcher] Escultura. Panglililóc. Sculpture, v. [skálpcher] Esculpir. Lumilók. Scum, n. [skam] Espuma. Bulâ, subó, sulwak. Scum, v. [skam] Espumar. Bumulâ, magbulâ. Scurf, n. [skarf] Tiña; caspa. Langib; balakubak. Scurfy, adj. [skárfi] Sarnoso, roñoso. Gálisin, malangíb. Scuttle, n. [skátl] Banasta; carrera corta. Bakid, batuláng; takbó. Scuttle, v. [skátl] Apretar á correr. Kumarimot. Scythe, n. [saiz] Guadaña. Lilik, karit. Sea, n. [si] Mar. Dagat. Sea board, n. [sí bord] Mar adentro. Laot. Seal, n. [sil] Sello para cerrar las cartas. Taták, timbre. Seal, v. [sil] Sellar. Tatakán. Seam, n. [sim] Costura. Tahî. Seam, v. [sim] Hacer costuras, coser. Manahî, tumahî, magyano. Seaman, n. [síman] Marinero. Magdadagát. Seamstress, n. [sémstres] Costurera. Mánanahì. Seaport, n. [síport] Puerto de mar. Daungang-dagat. Search, n. [sirch] Pesquisa, busca. Paniniyasat, paghanap. Search, v. [sirch] Investigar, indagar. Sumiyasat, sumaliksik. Seashore, n. [sísior] Ribera del mar. Tabíng dagat. Seasick, adj. [sísik] Mareado. Lulá, nalululà. Seasickness, n. [sísiknes] Mareo, mareamiento. Lulâ, pagkalulà. Season, n. [síson] Estacion, sazon, tiempo. Panahon, kapanahunan. Season, v. [síson] Sazonar, condimentar. Rekaduhan, lagyan ng rekado. Seasonable, adj. [sísonabl] Oportuno, á propósito. Nápapanahon, mabuting pagkakátaon. Seasoning, n. [sísoning] Condimento. Panimplá, rekado. Seat, n. [sit] Asiento, silla, banco. Upuan, likmuan, luklukan. Seat, v. [sit] Situar, colocar, asentar. Ilagay, ilapag, iupô. Seaward, adv. [síward] Hácia el mar. Sa dagat. Sea-weed, n. [sí-uid] Alga marina. Damong dagat. Secede, v. [sisíd] Apartarse, separarse. Umilag, lumayô, humiwalay. Secession, n. [sisésion] Apartamiento, separacion. Pag-ilag, paghiwalay. Seclude, v. [sicliúd] Apartar, excluir. Ilayô, ihiwalay, ibukod. Seclusion, n. [sicliúcion] Separacion, exclusion. Paghihiwalay, pagtitiwalag. Second, adj. [sécond] Segundo. Ikalawa, pangalawá. Secondary, adj. [sécondari] Secundario. Pangalawa. Secondhand, n. [secondjend] Segunda mano. Lumà, nagamit na. Secondly, adv. [sécondli] En segundo lugar. Ikalawa, pangalawa. Secrecy, n. [sícresi] Secreto, sigilo. Lihim. Secret, n. [sícret] Secreto, oculto. Lihim, tagô. Secretary, n. [sécriteri] Secretario. Kalihim. Secretaryship, n. [sécriteriship] Secretaría. Kálihiman, pagkakalihim. Secret, v. [sicrít] Esconder, ocultar. Itagò, ilingid. Secretion, n. [sicrícion] Secrecion. Pagtatagò, paglilingid. Sect, n. [sect] Secta. Pangkatin ng isang relihiyon. Sectarian, adj. [sectérian] Sectario. Nauukol sa pangkat ng isang relihiyon. Section, n. [sección] Sección. Bahagi. Secure, adj. [sikiúr] Seguro, salvo. Tiwasay, ligtas. Secure, v. [sikiúr] Asegurar, salvar. Itiwasay, siguruhin, iligtas. Security, n. [sikiúriti] Seguridad, tranquilidad. Katibayan, katiwasayan. Sedate, adj. [sidét] Sereno, sosegado, juicioso. Mahinahon, tahimik, mabait. Sedateness, n. [sidétnes] Serenidad, calma. Hinahon, katahimikan. Sedative, adj. [sédetiv] Sedativo. Pangpatahimik, pangpahupâ. Sedentary, adj. [sédenteri] Sedentario. Palaupô. Sediment, n. [sédiment] Sedimento, hez. Latak. Sedition, n. [sidícion] Sedicion, alboroto, motín, revuelta. Panghihimagsik, guló, kagulo, pag-aalsá. Seditious, adj. [sidícioes] Sedicioso. Manggugulo, manguupat. Seduce, v. [sidiús] Seducir. Umupat, humikayat, umakit. Seduction, n. [sidáccion] Seduccion. Upat, hikayat. Seductive, adj. [sidáctiv] Seductivo, halagüeño; persuasivo. Nakahihikayat, nakaaakit, nakagaganyak. Sedulous, adj. [sédiuloes] Diligente; cuidadoso. Masipag, masikap; maingat. See, v. [si] Ver, observar. Tumingin, makakita, kumita. Seed, n. [sid] Semilla, simiente. Binhî, punlâ. Seedling, n. [sídling] Planta de semillero. Punlâ. Seedsman, n. [sídsman] Tratante en semillas. Ang nagbibili ng punlâ. Seek, v. [sic] Buscar, inquirir alguna cosa. Humanap, maghanap. Seem, v. [sim] Parecer, semejarse. Máhawig, máwangis, mákamukhâ. Seeming, n. [síming] Apariencia. Anyô, hichura. Seemingly, adv. [símingli] Al parecer. Tila, warì. Seemly, adj. [símli] Propio, correspondiente. Bagay, akmâ. Seer, n. [sir] Veedor, profeta. Tagakita, manghuhulà. Seesaw, n. [siso] Vaivén. Larong lawínlawinan. Seethe, v. [siz] Hervir, bullir. Kumulô, sumubó, sumulwak. Segment, n. [ségment] Segmento de un círculo. Bahagi ng isang kabilugan. Segregate, v. [ségriguet] Segregar, separar. Itiwalag, ihiwalay. Segregation, n. [segriguécion] Segregacion, separacion. Pagtitiwalag, paghihiwalay. Seize, v. [siz] Asir, agarrar; secuestrar bienes. Hawakan, pigilan; hulihin, dakpin; kamkamin. Seizure, n. [síziur] Captura; secuestro. Paghuli, pagdakíp; pagkamkam. Seldom, adv. [séldom] Raramente. Bihirà, madalang. Select, adj. [siléct] Selecto, escogido. Hirang, pilì. Select, v. [siléct] Elegir, escoger. Humirang, pumilì. Selection, n. [siléccion] Seleccion. Paghirang, pagpilì. Self, adj. [self] Mismo, propio. Rin, sarili. Selfish, adj. [sélfish] Egoista, ensimismado. Palalò, mapaggiit ng sarili. Selfishness, n. [sélfishnes] Egoismo. Paggigiit ng sarili. Self-love, n. [self-lav] Amor propio. Pag-ibig sa sarili. Sell, v. [sel] Vender. Magbilí, maglakò, magtindá. Seller, n. [séler] Vendedor. Tagapagbilí, tagapaglakò, mánininda. Selvage, n. [sélvedch] Orilla de paño. Gilid ng panyô. Semblance, n. [sémblans] Semejanza, apariencia. Wangis, anyô, hichura. Semicolon, n. [semícolon] Punto y coma. Puntó't koma. Seminary, n. [sémineri] Seminario. Páaralan sa nangagpaparì ó nangagpapastor. Sempstress, n. [sémstres] Costurera. Mánanahì. Senate, n. [sénet] Senado. Senado, kapulungang tagapaglagdâ ng kautusan na halál ng pámahalaan. Senator, n. [sénetor] Senador. Senador. Send, v. [send] Enviar, despachar, mandar. Magpadalá, magsugò, mag-utos. Sender, n. [sénder] El que envía. Ang nagpapadalá. Senile, adj. [sínail] Senil. Nauukol sa katandaan. Senility, n. [sináiliti] Vejez. Katandaan. Senior, n. [sínior] Antiguo, anciano. Una, matandâ. Seniority, n. [sinióriti] Antigüedad, ancianidad. Kalagayang una ó matandâ sa lahat. Sensation, n. [sensécion] Sensación. Karamdaman, pakiramdam. Sense, n. [sens] Sentido, entendimiento, razon. Damdam, malay, ulirat, baít. Senseless, adj. [sénsles] Insensible, privado de sentido. Walang pakiramdam, walang ulirat. Sensible, adj. [sénsibl] Sensible, sensitivo. May pakiramdam, maramdamin. Sensitive, adj. [sénsitiv] Sensitivo, sensible. Maramdamin, mapagdamdam. Sensual, adj. [sénchiual] Sensual; lascivo, voluptuoso. Nauukol sa kahalayan ng lamán; malibog. Sensuality, n. [senchiuáliti] Sensualidad, voluptuosidad. Kahalayan, libog, kalibugan. Sentence, n. [séntens] Sentencia, dictamen; frase. Hatol, pasya; pananalitâ. Sententious, adj. [senténcioes] Sentencioso. May taglay na aral. Sentiment, n. [séntiment] Sentimiento, sentido. Damdam, pakiramdam. Sentimental, adj. [sentiméntal] Sentimental. Nauukol sa damdam ó pakiramdam. Sentinel, n. [séntinel] Centinela. Tanod, bantay. Sentry = Sentinel. Separable, adj. [séparabl] Separable. Náihihiwalay. Separate, adj. [séparet] Separado, segregado. Hiwalay, kalás, tiwalag. Separate, v. [séparet] Separar, segregar, desunir, apartar. Ihiwalay, ibukod, kalasín, itiwalag. Separation, n. [separécion] Separacion. Paghihiwalay, pagbubukod, pagkalás, pagtitiwalag. Sepoy, n. [sípoi] Soldado natural de las Indias Orientales. Kawal na taga India. September, n. [septémber] Septiembre. Setyembre. Septennial, adj. [septénial] Sieteñal. Nagtatagal ng pitong taón. Septuagenarian, n. [septiuádchenarian] Septuagenario. May gulang na pitong pung taón. Septuagenary = Septuagenarian. Sepulchral, adj. [sipúlcral] Sepulcral, fúnebre. Nauukol sa libing. Sepulchre, n. [sípulker] Sepulcro, sepultura. Libingan, báunan. Sepulture, n. [sepéltiur] Sepultura, entierro. Paglilibing. Sequel, n. [sícuel] Secuela, consecuencia. Bunga, pakinabang. Sequence, n. [sícuens] Serie, continuacion. Pagkakadugtongdugtong, karugtong, pagkakasunodsunod, kasunod. Sequent, adj. [sícuent] Siguiente. Kasunod. Sequester, v. [sicuéster] Secuestrar. Kumamkam. Sequestration, n. [secuestrécion] Secuestro, secuestracion de bienes. Pangangamkam. Seraph, n. [séraf] Serafin, angel. Serapín, anghel. Seraphic, adj. [siráfic] Seráfico. Nauukol sa serapín. Seraphical = Seraphic. Serenade, n. [serenéd] Serenata. Serenata, tugtugan. Serenade, v. [serenéd] Dar serenatas. Magserenata, magtugtugan. Serene, adj. [sirín] Sereno, claro, apacible, sosegado. Malinaw, maliwanag, tahimik, mahinahon. Serenity, n. [seréniti] Serenidad, claridad, sociego. Linaw, liwanag, katahimikan, hinahon. Serf, n. [serf] Siervo. Alipin. Sergeant, n. [sérdchent] Sarjento. Sarhento. Series, n. [síriis] Serie. Pagkakasunodsunod. Serious, adj. [sírias] Serio, grave; formal. Malubhâ, malalâ, mabigat; pormál. Sermon, n. [sérmon] Sermon. Sermon, pangaral. Serous, adj. [síroes] Seroso, acuoso. Malagnaw. Serpent, n. [sérpent] Serpiente. Ahas. Serpentine, adj. [sérpentain] Serpentino. Nauukol sa ahas. Servant, n. [sérvant] Siervo; criado. Lingkod; alilà. Serve, v. [serv] Servir. Maglingkod. Service, n. [sérvis] Servicio, servidumbre. Paglilingkod, paninilbihan. Serviceable, adj. [sérvisabl] Servicial, oficioso. Mapaglingkod, nagagamit. Servile, adj. [sérvil] Servil, bajo, humilde. Mapanilbé, hamak, mababà. Servility, n. [servíliti] Bajeza; vileza. Kahamakan, kaalipinan. Servitude, n. [sérvitiud] Servidumbre, esclavitud. Paninilbihan, pagkaalipin. Session, n. [sésion] Junta, sesion. Pulong. Set, adj. [set] Ajustado, fijo; señalado. Nalalapat, matibay; nátatakdà. Set, n. [set] Juego, conjunto ó agregado de muchas cosas; caida del sol. Ilwego, kabuoan ng bilang ng magkakabagay na kasangkapan, ibp., paglubog ng araw. Set, v. [set] Colocar, lijar, poner. Maglagay, maglapag; lumubog (ang araw). Set off, n. [sét of] Adorno, guarnicion. Kagayakan. Settee, n. [setí] Canapé. Mahabang likmuan na may sandigan. Settle, n. [setl] Escaño. Likmuan na mataas ang sandalan. Settle, v. [setl] Colocar, fijar; asegurar, establecer. Ilagay, ilapag; pagtibayin, itatag. Settlement, n. [sétlment] Establecimiento, domicilio. Kinaroroonan, táhanan. Settler, n. [sétler] Colono. Ang nananahan sa ibang lupain. Seven, adj. [séven] Siete. Pitó. Sevenfold, adj. [sévnfold] Séptuplo. Makápito. Seventeen, adj. [séventin] Diez y siete. Labíng pitó. Seventeenth, adj. [séventinz] Décimo séptimo. Ika labing pitó. Seventh, adj. [sévenz] Séptimo. Ikapitó. Seventieth, adj. [séventiez] Septuagésimo. Ika pitong pû. Seventy, adj. [séventi] Setenta. Pitong pû. Sever, v. [séver] Arrancar, sacar; separar, apartar. Hugutin; ihiwalay, ibukod. Several, adj. [séveral] Diversos, varios. Ilan. Severance, n. [séverans] Separacion, particion. Pagtanggal. Severe, adj. [sivír] Severo, áspero, rigoroso. Mahigpit, masungít, mabagsik. Severity, n. [sivériti] Severidad, rigor. Higpit, kahigpitan. Sew, v. [so] Coser. Manahî. Sewer, n. [sóer] Costurera. Mánananì. Sex, n. [secs] Sexo. Pagkalalake ó pagkababae. Sexagenary, adj. [secsádcheneri] Sexagenario. May anim na pung taón. Sextant, adj. [sécstant] Sextante, la sexta parte de un círculo. Ikanim na bahagi ng isang kabilugan. Sextuple, adj. [sécstiupl] Séxtuplo. Makaanim na pû. Sexual, adj. [sécsiual] Sexual. Nauukol sa pagkalalake ó pagkababae. Shabbiness, n. [siábines] Vileza, bajeza. Pagkahamak, kababaan. Shabby, adj. [siábi] Vil, bajo. Hamak, mababà. Shackle, v. [siákl] Encadenar. Itanikalâ. Shackles, n. [siákls] Grillos. Damal, pangpangaw. Shad, n. [siád] Alosa, sábalo. Katkát, bwanbwan. Shade, n. [siéd] Sombra, protección. Lilim, kanlong. Shade, v. [siéd] Asombrar. Liliman. Shadow, n. [siedó] Sombra. Anino, lilim. Shady, adj. [siédi] Opaco, oscuro. Malamlam, kulimlim, malilim. Shaft, n. [siáft] Flecha, saeta. Panà, palasô. Shagged, adj. [siáguoed] Afelpado. Magaspang. Shake, n. [siék] Sacudida. Luglog; paspas, pagpag. Shake, v. [siék] Agitar, sacudir. Lumuglog, umalog, pumagpag. Shaking, n. [siéking] Sacudimiento. Pagpaspás, pagpapagpág. Shall, v. [siél] Deber. Marapat. Shallop, n. [siáloep] Chalupa. Bangkâ. Shallow, adj. [sialó] Bajío. Mababaw. Sham, n. [siám] Pretexto, fingimiento. Dahilan, pagkukunwâ. Sham, v. [siám] Engañar, fingir. Manghibò, magkunwâ. Shambles, n. [siámbls] Carnicería. Pátayan. Shame, n. [siém] Vergüenza, rubor. Kahihiyán, hiyà, pamumulá. Shame, v. [siém] Avergonzar, afrentar. Hiyain, halayin. Shameful, adj. [siémful] Vergonzoso. Kahiyahiyâ, mahihiyain. Shameless, adj. [siémles] Desvergonzado, descarado. Walang hiyâ, bastos, mahalay. Shank, n. [siánk] Pierna. Bintî. Shanty, n. [siánti] Cabaña. Dampâ, kubo. Shape, n. [siép] Hechura, forma. Anyô, hichura. Shape, v. [siép] Formar, figurarse alguna cosa. Anyuan, bigyan ng anyô, tabasin. Shapeless, adj. [siéples] Informe. Walang anyô, hindî tabás. Shapely, adj. [siépli] Bien hecho. Mabuting tabas. Share, n. [siér] Parte, porción. Bahagi, ang nauukol. Share, v. [siér] Repartir; participar. Hatiin, bahagihin; mákahatì, mákabahagi. Shark, n. [siárc] Tiburon. Patíng. Sharp, adj. [siárp] Agudo, puntiagudo, aguzado. Matulis, matalas, hasâ. Sharpen, v. [siárpen] Afilar, aguzar. Patulisin, patalasin, ihasà. Sharper, n. [siárper] Ratero, estafador. Tekas, switik. Sharpness, n. [siárpnes] Agudeza, sutileza. Tulis, talas. Shatter, n. [siáter] Pedazo. Putol, bibinga. Shatter, v. [siáter] Destrozar, hacerse pedazos. Basagin, durugin. Shave, v. [siév] Afeitar. Mag-ahit. Shawl, n. [siól] Pañolon. Panyulón, alampay. She, pron. [shí] Ella. Siya (babae). Sheaf, n. [shif] Gavilla, haz. Hayà, bigkis. Shear, v. [shir] Trasquilar, esquilar. Gupitan (ng balahibo). Sheath, n. [shiz] Vaina, caja, funda. Kaloban, sisidlán, pundá. Sheathe, v. [shiz] Envainar. Isuot sa kaloban. Shed, n. [shed] Cabaña. Dampâ. Shed, v. [shed] Verter, derramar. Magbubó, magbuhos. Sheen, n. [shin] Resplandor, brillantez. Kintab, ningning, kislap. Sheep, n. [ship] Oveja, carnero. Tupa. Sheepcot, n. [shípcot] Redil. Kulungan ng tupa. Sheepfold = sheepcot. Sheepish, adj. [shípish] Vergonzoso, tímido. Mahihiyain, matatakutín. Sheepskin, n. [shípskin] Piel de carnero. Balat ng tupa. Sheer, adj. [shir] Puro, claro. Pulós, taganás; malinaw. Sheer, v. [shir] Alargarse. Makalag. Sheet, n. [shit] Sábana; pliego [de papel]. Kumot; pliyego ng papel. Shelf, n. [sielf] Anaquel; bajío. Pitak ng aparador; dakong mababaw [sa dagat]. Shell, n. [siél] Casco, cáscara; concha. Balát, kabibe; susô. Shell, v. [siél] Descascarar, descortezar. Talupan, upakan. Shelter, n. [siéltoer] Guarida, amparo, abrigo, asilo, refugio. Kublihan, kandungan, ampunan, takbuhan. Shelter, v. [siéltoer] Guarecer, abrigar, refugiar; amparar. Mangublí, kumanlong, sumilong, umampon. Shelterless, adj. [siélterles] Sin asilo, desamparado. Walang másilungan, walang magampon. Shelve, v. [sielv] Echar á un lado, arrinconar. Itabí, isulok. Shepherd, n. [siéperd] Pastor. Pastor, tagapag-alagà ng hayop. Shepherdess, n. [siéferdes] Pastora, zagala. Babaing tagapag-alagà ng tupa, pastora, sagala. Sheriff, n. [sheríf] Sheríff. Sheríp; agusíl. Sherry, n. [siéri] Vino de Jerez. Alak na Herés. Shield, n. [shild] Escudo. Kalasag, pananggá. Shield, v. [shild] Escudar, defender. Mangalasag, mananggalang. Shift, n. [shift] Cambio. Paglipat. Shift, v. [shift] Cambiarse, mudarse de un paraje á otro. Lumipat, bumago. Shin, n. [shin] Espinilla. Lulód. Shine, n. [siáin] Resplandor, lustre. Ningning kintab. Shine, v. [siáin] Lucir, brillar. Paningningin, pakintabin. Shining, adj. [siáining] Brillante, resplandeciente. Makintab, maningning. Shiny, adj. [siáini] Lustroso, brillante. Makintab, maningning. Ship, n. [ship] Navío, buque. Sasakyan sa dagat. Ship, v. [ship] Embarcar. Hulan. Shipboard, n. [shípbord] Tablon de navío. Andamyo ng sasakyan. Shipment, n. [shípment] Envío, cargo. Mga bagay na lulan ng sasakyan. Shipwreck, n. [shíprec] Naufragio, desastre, desgracia. Pagkabagbag ng sasakyan, sakunâ, kapahamakan. Shire, n. [shir] Condado. Lalawigan. Shirt, n. [shirt] Camisa. Barò. Shiver, v. [shíver] Tiritar de frio, temblar de miedo. Mangaligkíg, mangatal, manginig, mangilabot. Shivering, n. [shívering] Horripilacion, temblor. Kilabot, pangangatal, panginginig. Shoal, adj. [shol] Lleno de bajíos. Mababaw. Shock, n. [shoc] Choque, encuentro. Sagupà, umpog, banggâ. Shock, v. [shoc] Chocar. Mábanggâ, máumpog. Shoe, n. [siú] Zapato, el calzado del pie. Sapatos, panapin sa paa. Shoe, v. [siú] Herrar un caballo. Bakalan sa paa ang kabayo. Shoemaker, n. [siúmeker] Zapatero. Magsasapatós. Shoot, n. [siút] Tiro; vástago. Tudlâ; suplíng, swí. Shoot, v. [siút] Tirar, arrojar, lanzar, brotar. Tumudlâ, magpahilagpos, bumaril; sumuplíng. Shop, n. [sióp] Tienda, taller. Tindahan, pámilihan. Shop, v. [sióp] Andar de tienda en tienda comprando. Mamili. Shopkeeper, n. [siopkíper] Tendero, mercader. Tindero, may tindâ. Shore, n. [siór] Costa, ribera, playa. Baybay, tabí, pangpang. Short, adj. [siórt] Corto, breve, conciso. Maiklî, maiksî. Shortly, adv. [siórtli] Brevemente, en pocas palabras. Sa madalingsabi, sa katagang wikà. Shorten, v. [siórten] Acortar, abreviar, compendiar. Iklian, iksían. Shorthand, n. [siórtjend] Taquigrafía, estenografía. Takigrapyá ó pagsulat na natutugmaan sa mga tandâ ang pananalitâ. Shortness, n. [siórtnes] Cortedad, brevedad. Kaiklian, kaiksian. Shortsighted, adj. [siórtsaited] Corto de vista. Malabò ang matá. Shot, n. [siót] Tiro, alcance. Putók, tudlâ, abót. Shoulder, n. [siaúlder] Hombro. Balikat. Shoulder, v. [siaúlder] Cargar al hombro. Pasanín. Shout, n. [siáut] Aclamacion. Papuri, hiyaw. Shout, v. [siáut] Aclamar. Humiyaw ng papuri. Shouting, n. [siaúting] Gritos de alegría. Kátuwaan. Shove, n. [sióv] Empujon. Tulak. Shove, v. [sióv] Empujar, impeler. Magtulak. Shovel, n. [sióvl] Pala. Pala. Shovel, v. [sióvl] Traspalar. Magpala. Show, n. [sió] Espectáculo, exposicion. Pánoorin, palabás; tanghál, pagtatanghal, tanghalan. Show, v. [sió] Mostrar, hacer ver; señalar, demostrar. Ipakita. Shower, n. [siówer] Lluvia. Ulán. Shower, v. [siówer] Llover. Umulán. Shrew, n. [shriú] Mujer de mal genio. Babaing masungít. Shrewd, adj. [shriúd] Astuto, sagaz. Tuso, switik, matalinò. Shrewdness, n. [shriúdnes] Astucia, sagacidad. Katusuhan, katalinuan. Shriek, n. [shrik] Chillido, grito de espanto. Tilî, hiyaw, pagibik. Shriek, v. [shrik] Chillar, gritar. Tumilî, humiyaw. Shrill, adj. [shril] Agudo, penetrante, sutil. Matalas, matalinò. Shrimp, n. [shrimp] Camaron. Hipon. Shrine, n. [shráin] Relicario. Relikaryo, alaala. Shrink, v. [shrinc] Encogerse. Umurong; mangulubot. Shrivel, v. [shrívl] Arrugarse, encogerse. Mangulubot, mangunot. Shroud, n. [sráud] Cubierta; mortaja. Balot; sapot. Shroud, v. [sráud] Cubrir; amortajar. Balutin; saputan. Shrub, n. [shrab] Arbusto. Kaugoygoyan, mababang punong kahoy na mayabong. Shrug, n. [srag] Encogimiento de hombros. Pangingilabot. Shrug, v. [srag] Encogerse de hombros. Mangilabot. Shudder, n. [siáder] Despeluzamiento, temblor. Panginginíg, takot. Shudder, v. [siáder] Estremecerse, despeluzarse. Mangilabot, manginig. Shuffle, n. [shafl] Barajadura, treta, fraude. Pagbabalansa ng baraha; laláng, dayà. Shuffle, v. [shafl] Barajar los naipes; desordenar, trampear. Magbalansa; gumuló; magdayà. Shun, v. [shan] Evitar, huir, escapar. Umilag; tumakas, tumaanan. Shunt, n. [siánt] Bifurcación, cambio de vía. Pagkalinsad, pagkaalis sa daang bakal. Shut, v. [siat] Cerrar, encerrar. Isará, itikom; sarhan, takpán. Shutter, n. [siáter] Postigo de ventana. Persyana, takip ng bintanà. Shy, adj. [sháy] Reservado, tímido, vergonzoso. Malihim, kimî, mahihiyain. Shyness, n. [siáynes] Timidez. Kakimian. Sibyl, n. [síbil] Sibila, profetisa. Sibila, manghuhulà. Sick, adj. [sic] Malo, enfermo. May sakít, may damdam. Sicken, v. [sicn] Enfermar, poner enfermo. Magkasakít. Sickle, n. [sicl] Hoz, segadera. Lilík, karit. Sickly, adj. [síkli] Enfermizo, achacoso. Masasaktín. Sickness, n. [sícnes] Enfermedad, mal. Sakít, pagkakasakít. Side, n. [sáid] Lado, costado. Tabí, gilid, tagiliran. Side, v. [sáid] Unirse con alguno. Kumatig, kumampí. Sideboard, n. [sáidbord] Aparador, alacena. Aparador, páminggalan. Sidelong, adj. [sáidlong] Lateral. Pahabâ. Sideways, adv. [sáidwes] De lado, oblicuamente. Patagilíd. Sidewise = Sideway. Siding, n. [sáiding] La accion de empeñarse en un partido. Pagkatig sa isang lápian. Sidle, v. [sáidl] Ir de lado por algun paso. Manabí, patabí. Siege, n. [sidch] Sitio. Pagkubkob. Sieve, n. [siv] Criba. Bithay. Sift, v. [sift] Cerner; cribar. Magtalop; bithayín, magbithay. Sigh, n. [sáy] Suspiro. Buntong hininga. Sigh, v. [sáy] Suspirar, gemir. Magbuntong hininga, dumaing. Sight, n. [sáit] Vista, mira. Tingín, paningin, tanaw. Sightless, adj. [sáitles] Ciego. Bulág. Sightly, adj. [sáitli] Vistoso, hermoso. Tánawin, maganda. Sign, n. [sáin] Señal, nota; firma. Tandâ, palatandaan; pirma, pagtatalâ ng pangalan. Sign, v. [sáin] Señalar; firmar, rubricar. Magtandâ, maglagay ng tandâ; pumirmá, maglagdá ng pangalan. Signal, n. [sígnal] Señal, aviso. Tandâ, pahiwatig. Signature, n. [sígnechur] Señal, marca. Talâ, tandâ, taták. Signet, n. [sígnet] Sello, (el sello privado del rey). Tatak. Significance, n. [signíficans] Significacion, importancia. Kahulugan, kasaysayan. Significancy = Significance. Significant, adj. [signíficant] Significante, importante. May kahulugan, makabuluhan. Signification, n. [signifikécion] Significacion, sentido. Kahulugan, kàbuluhan. Signify, v. [sígnifai] Significar, dar de entender. Magkahulugán, ipaunawà. Silence, n. [sáilens] Silencio. Katahimikan. Silence, v. [sáilens] Imponer silencio. Magpatahimik. Silent, adj. [sáilent] Silencioso, taciturno. Tahimik, walang imik. Silk, n. [silk] Seda. Seda, sutlâ. Silken, adj. [silkn] Sedeño. Maseda, masultâ. Silky = Silken. Silkworm, n. [sílkuorm] Gusano de seda. Uod na pinagkukunan ng sutlâ. Sill, n. [sil] Umbral de puerta. Táyuan (sa pintuan). Silliness, n. [sílines] Simpleza, tontería. Kamusmusan, kahangalan. Silly, adj. [síli] Necio, tonto. Musmós, hangál. Silver, n. [sílver] Plata. Pilak. Silversmith, n. [sílversmiz] Platero. Panday-pilak, platero. Silverly, adj. [sílverly] Plateado. May halong pilak. Similar, adj. [símilar] Similar, semejante. Kagaya, kahwad, kawangis, kawangkî. Similarity, n. [similáriti] Semejanza, conformidad.. Pagkawangis, pagkawangkî. Simile, n. [símil] Simil, ejemplo. Ulirán, halimbawà. Similitude = Simile. Simmer, v. [símoer] Hervir á fuego. Lumabog, pakuluan. Simper, n. [símper] Sonrisa. Ngitî. Simper, v. [símper] Sonreirse. Ngumitî. Simple, adj. [símpl] Simple, sencillo. Pulos, walang halò; musmos; walang kahambugan. Simplicity, n. [simplísiti] Sencillez, simplicidad. Kawagasan; kamusmusan; walang kahambugan. Simplification, n. [simplifikécien] Simplificación. Pagpapagaan, pagpapaiklî. Simplify, v. [símplifai] Simplificar. Pagaanin, paikliin. Simulate, v. [símiulet] Simular, fingir. Magkunwâ, hwag pahalatâ. Simulation, n. [simiulécioen] Simulación, hipocresía. Pakunwarî, pakitang tao, paimbabaw. Simultaneous, adj. [saimelténioes] Simultáneo. Sabaysabay. Sin, n. [sin] Pecado, culpa. Kasalanan, sala. Sin, v. [sin] Pecar, faltar. Magkasala, magkulang. Since, adv. [sins] Ya que, puesto que. Yamang. Since, prep. [sins] Desde. Mulâ sa. Sincere, adj. [sinsír] Sincero, franco. Tapat na loob. Sincerity, n. [sinsériti] Sinceridad, franqueza. Pagtatapat, pagtatapat ng loob. Sinecure, n. [sáinikiur] Sueldo sin empleo. Sahod ó upa na walang gáwain. Sinew, n. [síniu] Tendon, nervio. Litid. Sinewy, adj. [síniu-i] Nervoso. Malitid. Sinful, adj. [sínful] Pecaminoso. Makasalanan, salarín. Sing, v. [sing] Cantar, gorjear los pájaros. Umawit, kumantá; humuni. Singe, v. [sindch] Chamuscar. Idarang, isalab. Singer, n. [sínjer] Cantor, cantora. Mang-aawit, mánganganta, kantora. Single, adj. [síngl] Uno, sencillo, simple. Nag-iisa, bugtong, tangì. Single, v. [síngl] Singularizar. Mamukod. Singular, adj. [sínguiular] Singular, peculiar. Namumukod, bukod-tangì. Singularity, n. [singuiuláriti] Singularidad, particularidad. Pamumukod, pagkatangì. Sinister, n. [sínistoer] Siniestro, funesto. Saliwâ, kasawîan. Sink, n. [sink] Alcantarilla. Pádaluyan. Sink, v. [sink] Hundirse, sumirse, sumergirse. Lumubog, sumisid, sumukbó. Sinner, n. [sínoer] Pecador, pecadora. Makasalanan. Sinuosity, n. [siniuósiti] Sinuosidad. Kunat, kabaluktután. Sip, n. [sip] Sorbo, trago pequeño. Lunók, higop. Sip, v. [sip] Beborrotear. Lunukin, higupin. Sir, n. [soer] Señor. Ginoo, pò. Sire, v. [sáir] Engendrar, producir. Manganak [ang hayop]. Siren, n. [sáiren] Sirena. Sirena. Sirup, n. [síroep] Jarabe. Harabe, pulót. Sister, n. [síster] Hermana. Kapatid na babae. Sisterhood, n. [sísterjud] Hermandad, conjunto de hermanas. Pagkakapatiran. Sister-in-law, n. [síster-in-law] Cuñada. Hipag. Sisterly, adj. [sísterli] Con hermandad. Parang kapatid. Sit, v. [sit] Sentarse. Umupô, maupô, lumikmô, lumuklok. Site, n. [sáit] Sitio. Dako. Sitting, n. [síting] La acción de sentarse. Pag-upô, paglikmô, pagluklok. Situate, adj. [sítiuet] Situado. Nakalagay, nakalapag, nasa... Situation, n. [sitiuécioen] Situación, estado. Lagay, kalagayan, tayô, katayuan. Six, adj. [sics] Seis. Anim. Sixfold, adj. [sícsfold] Seis veces. Makaanim. Sixteen, adj. [sícstin] Diez y seis. Labing anim. Sixteenth, adj. [sícstinz] Décimo sexto. Ikalabing anim. Sixth, adj. [sicz] Sexto. Ikaanim. Sixtieth, adj. [sícstiez] Sexagésimo. Ikaanim na pû. Sixty, adj. [sícsti] Sesenta. Anim na pû. Size, n. [sáiz] Tamaño, tallo. Lakí, anyô. Size, v. [sáiz] Ajustar, fijar. Iakmâ, ilapat. Skate, n. [sket] Patín. Panglakad sa niebe ó tubig na nagyelo. Skating, n. [skéting] Ejercicio de correr patines sobre el hielo. Pagsasanay ng paglakad ó pagtakbó sa tubig na nagyelo. Skean, n. [skin] Daga, puñal. Talibong, sundang. Skein, n. [sken] Madeja. Madeha, labay. Skeleton, n. [skélitoen] Esqueleto. Kalansáy. Sketch, n. [sketch] Diseño, esbozo, bosquejo. Banhay, anyô. Sketch, v. [sketch] Trazar, bosquejar. Gumuhit, magbanhay. Skew, adj. [skiú] Oblicuo. Balikukô. Skiff, n. [skíf] Esquife. Bangkang muntî. Skilful, adj. [skílful] Diestro, hábil. Bihasá, sanáy, matalinò. Skill, n. [skíl] Destreza, pericia. Kaliksihán, kasanayan, katalinuan. Skillet, n. [skílet] Marmita pequeña. Anglít. Skim, v. [skim] Espuma. Bulâ. Skimmer, n. [skímer] Espumadera. Panandok ng bulâ. Skin, n. [skín] Piel, cuero. Balat, katad, upak. Skin, v. [skín] Desollar. Talupan, upakan. Skinny, adj. [skíni] Flaco, falta de carnes. Payat, nangangalirang. Skip, n. [skip] Salto, brinco. Luksó, lundag. Skip, v. [skip] Saltar, brincar. Magluluksó, maglulundág. Skirmish, n. [skírmish] Escaramuza, contienda. Pagpapanaklot, paglalaban. Skirmish, v. [skírmish] Escaramuzar. Manaklót, lumaban. Skirt, n. [skoert] Falda, orla. Sayá; laylayan. Skirt, v. [skoert] Orillar. Manabí. Skittish, adj. [skítish] Espantadizo. Gitlá. Skulk, v. [skalk] Andar á sombra de tejado. Sumilong. Skull, n. [skal] Craneo. Bungô, baong ulo. Sky, n. [skái] Firmamento, cielo. Langit. Slab, n. [slab] Losa. Losa. Slabber, v. [slábær] Ensuciar. Magdumí. Slack, adj. [slác] Flojo, lento. Mahinà, makuyad. Slacken, v. [slakn] Aflojar, ablandar. Palwagin, palambutin. Slag, n. [slag] Escoria. Kalawang, dumí. Slake, v. [sléc] Extinguir, apagar. Patayin, pawiin. Slam, n. [slam] Capote (en los juegos de naipes). Pagdarayà (sa balansa ng baraha). Slander, n. [slánder] Calumnia, denigracion. Paghahatid-humapit, paninirang puri. Slander, v. [slánder] Calumniar, informar. Maghatid-humapit, manirang puri. Slanderer, n. [slánderer] Calumniador. Mapaghatid humapit. Slang, n. [slang] Jerigonza. Salitang malabò. Slant, v. [slant] Pender oblicuamente. Ihapay, ihilig. Slanting, adj. [slánting] Sesgado, oblicuo. Hapáy, hilíg. Slap, n. [slap] Manotada. Suntók; sampal. Slap, v. [slap] Dar una bofetada. Sumuntok, manuntok. Slap, adv. [slap] De sopeton. Karakaraka. Slash, n. [slash] Cuchillada. Saksak, tagâ. Slash, v. [slash] Acuchillar. Manaksak, managâ. Slate, n. [slét] Pizarra. Pisara. Slate, v. [slét] Empizarrar. Isulat sa pisara. Slattern, n. [slátern] Mujer desaliñada. Babaing salaulà. Slatternly, adj. [sláternli] Desaliñadamente. May pagkasalaulà. Slaughter, n. [slóter] Carnicería, matanza. Patayan, pagpapatayan. Slaughter, v. [slóter] Matar atrozmente. Pumatay ng kakilakilabot. Slave, n. [slév] Esclavo, esclava. Alipin, busabos. Slave, v. [slév] Trabajar como esclavo. Paalipin, pabusabos. Slavery, n. [sléveri] Esclavitud, servidumbre. Pagkaalipin, pagkabusabos. Slavish, adj. [slévish] Servil, bajo. Mapanilbí, hamak. Slay, v. [slé] Matar. Pumatay. Slayer, n. [sléyer] Matador. Ang nakamatay. Sled, n. [sled] Narria, rastra. Paragos, kareta. Sledge, n. [sledch] Narria, rastra. Paragos, kareta. Sleek, adj. [slik] Liso, bruñido. Makinis, bulí. Sleep, n. [slip] Sueño. Tulog. Sleep, v. [slip] Dormir, reposar en el sueño. Matulog, magpahinga, umidlip. Sleeper, n. [slíper] El que duerme; zángano; travesaño. Ang natutulog; batugan; tahilan. Sleepiness, n. [slípines] Somnolencia, letargo. Antok. Sleepy, adj. [slípi] Soñoliento. Antúkin. Sleeve, n. [slív] Manga. Manggás. Sleight, n. [sláit] Ardid, estratagema. Laláng, dayà. Slender, adj. [slénder] Delgado, sutil. Payat, manipis. Slice, n. [sláis] Tajada, lonja. Hiwà, piraso, lapáng, pútol. Slide, n. [sláid] Resbalón; resbaladero. Dupilas; dausdusan. Slide, v. [sláid] Resbalar, deslizarse. Mádulas, dumulas, mápadupilas. Slight, adj. [sláit] Ligero, leve, pequeño. Maliit, muntî. Slight, n. [sláit] Descuido; desaire. Pagkakálingat; kahihiyan. Slight, v. [sláit] Menospreciar, desdeñar, desairar. Hamakin, halayin, hiyain. Slim, adj. [slim] Delgado, sutil. Payat, manipís. Slime, n. [sláim] Lodo, barro pegajoso; sustancia viscosa. Putik, burak, banlík; uhog. Slimy, adj. [sláimi] Viscoso. Úhugin, mauhog. Sling, n. [sling] Honda; hondazo. Panghilagpos; pagpapahilagpós. Sling, v. [sling] Tirar con honda. Magpahilagpós. Slink, v. [slinc] Abortar, malparir. Makunan, mahulog sa dî panahon, manganak ng dî oras. Slip, n. [slíp] Resbalon, tropiezo. Pagkadulas, pagkadupilas; pagkatisod. Slip, v. [slíp] Resbalar, deslizarse. Mádulas, mádupilas, dumulas. Slipper, n. [slíper] Chinela. Sinelas. Slippery, adj. [slíperi] Resbaladizo. Madulás. Slipshod, adv. [slípsiod] En chancletas. Naka chankletas ó paragatos. Slit, n. [slit] Raja, hendedura. Sipák, lahang. Slit, v. [slit] Rajar, hender; tajar. Sumipak, lumahang; humiwà, lumalós. Slobber, n. [slóber] Baba. Laway. Slop, n. [slop] Lodazal. Putikan. Slope, n. [slóp] Declive, bajada. Gulod, libís. Slope, v. [slóp] Sesgar; cortar ó partir en sesgo. Ihiwíd, putlín ó hiwain ng pahiwíd. Sloping, adj. [slóping] Oblicuo, declive. Pahilís; pahiwíd; dahilig. Sloppy, adj. [slópi] Lodoso. Maputik. Sloth, n. [slóz] Pereza. Katamaran. Slothful, adj [slózful] Perezoso, negligente. Tamad, batugan. Slouch, v. [sláuch] Estar cabizbajo como un patan. Madungô. Slough, n. [sláu] Lodazal. Putikan. Sloughy, adj. [sláui] Lodoso, pantanoso. Maputik, maburak. Sloven, v. [slovn] Hombre desaliñado. Taong salaulà. Slovenliness, n. [slóvnlines] Desaliño, asquerosidad, porquería. Kasalaulaan, kababuyan. Slow, adj. [slo] Tardío, lento, torpe, perezoso. Makupad, mabagal, banayad, tamad. Slowly, adv. [slóli] Lentamente. Dahandahan. Slowness, n. [slónes] Lentitud, tardanza. Bagal, kupad, kuyad. Slug, n. [slag] Haragan, holgazan. Batugan, pagayongayon. Sluggard, n. [slágard] Haragan, holgazan. Batugan, pagayongayon. Sluggish, adj. [sláguish] Perezoso, indolente. Tamad, batugan, pabayâ. Sluggishness, n. [sláguishnes] Pereza. Katamaran. Sluice, n. [sliús] Compuerta. Sangka. Slumber, n. [slámber] Sueño lijero. Idlip. Slumber, v. [slámber] Dormitar. Umidlip. Slur, n. [sloer] Mancha. Dungis, manchá. Slur, v. [sloer] Manchar, ensuciar. Dungisan, dumhan, manchahán. Slut, n. [slat] Mujer sucia. Babaing salaulà. Sly, adj. [slái] Astuto, pícaro; disimulado, falso. Tuso, switik; paimbabaw, sinungaling. Slyness, n. [sláines] Astucia, maña. Katusuhan, kaswitikan. Smack, n. [smac] Sabor, gusto; beso fuerte. Lasa, lasap; halík na matunog. Smack, v. [smac] Saborearse, besar con ruido. Lasahin, lasapin; halikán ng matunóg. Small, adj. [smól] Pequeño, menudo. Muntî, maliit. Small-pox, n. [smólpacs] Viruelas. Bulutong. Smalt, n. [smólt] Esmalte. Salít, palamuti. Smart, adj. [smárt] Punzante, agudo; inteligente. Matalas, matulis; matalinò. Smart, n. [smárt] Dolor, escozor. Sakít, anták, hapdî, kirót. Smart, v. [smárt] Escocer, sentirse, dolerse. Sumakít, umantak, humapdî, kumirót. Smash, v. [smash] Romper, quebrantar. Sumirà, bumasag. Smatterer, n. [smáterer] El que sabe una cosa superficialmente. Ang marunong ng kaontî ng anoman. Smear, v. [smir] Untar; emporcar. Pahiran; dumhan, dungisan. Smell, n. [smel] Olfato; olor. Pangamoy; amoy. Smell, v. [smel] Oler; percibir. Amuyin; pangamuyin. Smelt, v. [smelt] Fundir, derritir minerales. Magbubó; bubuín. Smelter, n. [smélter] Fundidor. Hurnóng búbuan. Smile, n. [smáil] Sonrisa. Ngitî, ngisi. Smile, v. [smáil] Sonreirse. Ngumitî, ngumisi. Smirk, v. [smirk] Sonreirse. Ngumitî, ngumisi. Smite, v. [smáit] Herir, golpear. Manugat, manakít, sumugat, sumakít. Smith, n. [smíz] Forjador de metales. Panday. Smithy, n. [smízi] Forja, herrería. Pandáyan. Smock, n. [smók] Camisa de mujer. Kamisón, kamisola. Smoke, n. [smóc] Humo. Asó, usok. Smoke, v. [smóc] Humear; ahumar; fumar. Umasó, umusok; magpausok; umitit. Smokeless, adj. [smócles] Sin humo. Walang asó, walang usok. Smoker, n. [smóker] Fumador. Mang-iitit ng sigarilyo, ibp. Smoky, adj. [smóki] Humeante, humoso. Maasap, maasó, mausok. Smooth, adj. [smuz] Liso, pulido; llano. Yano, makinis, kayás; pantay, patag. Smooth, v. [smuz] Alisar; allanar. Pakinisin; patagin. Smoothness, n. [smúznes] Lisura, llanura. Kakinisan; kapatagan. Smother, v. [smódzer] Ahogar, sofocar. Uminis; inisín. Smoulder, v. [smaúlder] Aclocarse, arder debajo la ceniza. Magbaga, mag-apoy ng walang ningas. Smug, adj. [smag] Pulido con afectación. Maselang. Smuggle, v. [smagl] Hacer ó ejercer el contrabando. Manganlakal ng laban sa kautusan. Smuggler, n. [smágler] Contrabandista. Mángangalakal ng bagay na bawal. Smut, n. [smát] Tiznon. Dungis. Smutty, adj. [smáti] Obsceno, impuro. Mahalay, malibog. Smack, n. [smác] Parte, porción. Bahagi, hatì. Snaffle, n. [snáfl] Brida con muserola. Bitbítan. Snag, n. [snág] Nudo [en la madera]. Bukó. Snail, n. [snél] Caracol. Susô. Snake, n. [snék] Culebra, serpiente. Ahas, duhol, ulupong. Snaky, adj. [snéki] Serpentino. Parang ahas. Snap, n. [snáp] Estallido. Lagitík, lagutók, tunog. Snap, v. [snáp] Hacer estallar una cosa. Palagitikin, paputukin. Snappish, adj. [snápish] Mordaz. Nángangagat, mapagkagát. Snare, n. [snér] Cepo, lazo, trampa. Bitag, laláng, panghuli. Snarl, v. [snárl] Regañar; gruñir. Magalit; umangil. Snast, n. [snást] Pábilo de una vela. Micha ng kandilà, tinsim. Snatch, n. [snátch] Arrebatamiento, arrebatiña. Pag-agaw, pangangagaw, agawán. Snatch, v. [snátch] Arrebatar. Umagaw, mangagaw. Sneak, v. [sník] Arrastrar. Umusad. Sneer, n. [snír] Mirada de desprecio, mofa, escarnio. Irap, tuyâ, paghiyâ. Sneer, v. [snír] Mirar con desprecio, burlarse sonriendose. Irapan, tawanan. Sneeze, v. [sníz] Estornudar. Bumahin, mápabahin. Sniff, v. [sníf] Resollar con fuerza. Suminghot. Snigger, v. [sníguer] Reir á menudo. Ngumisngis. Snip, n. [sníp] Tijeretada. Gupít. Snip, v. [sníp] Tijeretear, cortar con tijeras. Gupitin. Snivel, n. [snívl] Moquita. Uhog. Snivel, v. [snívl] Moquear. Uhugin. Snood, adj. [snúd] Peripuesto. Mapagmakinís. Snooze, n. [snúz] Sueño lijero. Idlip, tulog na mababaw. Snore, n. [snór] Ronquido. Hilík. Snore, v. [snór] Roncar. Humilík, maghilík. Snort, v. [snórt] Resoplar. Magsingasíng. Snot, n. [snót] Moco. Uhog, kulangot. Snout, n. [snáut] Hocico. Ngusò, ilong. Snow, n. [snó] Nieve. Niebe, tubig na namuô. Snowy, adj. [snói] Nevoso. Maniebe, maraming niebe. Snub, v. [snab] Reprender, regañar. Sumaway; magalit. Snub-nosed, adj. [snáb-nozd] Romo, el que tiene la nariz llana y ancha. Charát. Snuff, n. [snaf] Moco de candela; tabako de polvo. Tulò ó pagkít ng kandilà; tabakong durog. Snuff, v. [snaf] Oler; atraer en la nariz con el aliento. Amuyín, singhutín. Snuffers, n. [snáfærs] Despabiladeras. Panggupit ng michá. Snuffle, v. [snafl] Ganguear, hablar con las narices. Manalitâ ng pahumal, umutal-utal. Snug, adj. [snag] Conveniente, cómodo. Bagay, ukol, kaayaaya. So, adv. [so] Así, asi como, por lo tanto. Gayon, sa gayon, kayâ; anopa't. Soak, v. [sok] Remojarse, empapar. Tigmakin, ibabad, basaing maigi. Soap, n. [sop] Jabon. Sabon. Soap, v. [sop] Jabonar, lavar con jabon. Sabunin. Soap-bubble, n. [sop-bábl] Ampolla de jabon. Bulâ ng sabon. Soar, v. [sor] Remontarse, encumbrarse. Umilanglang, paitaas. Sob, n. [sob] Sollozo, suspiro. Daíng, hibík, ingít, buntong hininga. Sob, v. [sob] Sollozar, suspirar. Dumaing, humibík, umingit magbuntong hininga. Sober, adj. [sóber] Sobrio, templado. Mahinahon, mahinhin, mabait. Sobriety, n. [sobráieti] Sobriedad, templanza. Hihahon, hinhin, kabaitan. Sociability, n. [sociabíliti] Sociabilidad. Pakikipagsama. Sociable, adj. [sóciabl] Sociable. Mapakikisamahan. Social, adj. [sócial] Social. Mahilig sa pakikisama, marunong makipagkapwà. Society, n. [sosáieti] Sociedad, compañía. Samahán, pagsasamahán. Sock, n. [soc] Calcetín. Medyas. Socket, n. [sóket] Cuenca [del ojo]. Ukà [ng matá]. Sod, n. [sod] Cesped, turba. Pitak na may tubong damó. Soda, n. [sóda] Sosa. Soda. Sofa, n. [sófa] Sofá. Sandalan, sandigan, sopá. Soft, adv. [soft] Blando, suave. Malambót, malatâ. Soften, v. [sofn] Ablandar, enternecer. Palambutin, palatain. Softness, n. [sóftnes] Blandura. Lambot, latâ, kalambután, kalataan. Soil, n. [sóil] Terreno; suciedad; mancha. Lupà; dumí; dungis. Soil, v. [sóil] Ensuciar, manchar; abonar, estercolar. Dumhám, dungisan; lagyan ng patabâ. Sojourn, n. [sódchern] Morada, residencia. Táhanan, tírahan. Sojourn, v. [sódchern] Residir, morar. Manahan, manirahan. Solace, n. [sólez] Consuelo, alivio, recreo. Ginghawa, alíw, líbangan. Solace, v. [sólez] Consolar. Aliwín. Solar, adj. [sólar] Solar. Nauukol sa araw. Solder, n. [sólder] Soldadura. Panghinang. Solder, v. [sólder] Soldar, unir con metal. Ihinang; maghinang. Soldier, n. [sóldier] Soldado. Kawal, sundalo. Soldierlike, adj. [sóldierlaic] Soldadesco. Parang kawal. Soldierly = soldierlike. Sole, adj. [sol] Único, solo. Tangì, nag-iisa. Sole, n. [sol] Planta del pié; suela del zapato. Talampakan; suelas ng sapatos. Solely, adv. [sól-li] Solamente. Lamang. Solemn, adj. [sólem] Solemne, majestuoso. Dakilà, marilag, pormál. Solemnity, n. [sólemniti] Solemnidad, pompa. Kadakilaan, karilagan, dilag, inam. Solemnize, v. [sólemnaiz] Solemnizar. Padakilain, parilagín. Solicit, v. [sólicit] Solicitar, implorar. Hilingín, ipamanhík, iluhog. Solicitation, n. [solicitécioen] Solicitación. Paghilíng, pagluhóg. Solicitor, n. [solícitor] Procurador, solicitador. Tagasikap, tagahilíng, tagahingî. Solicitous, adj. [solísitoes] Solícito, diligente. Masikap, masipag, maingat, makalingâ. Solicitude, n. [solísitiud] Cuidado, diligencia. Ingat, sikap, sipag. Solid, adj. [sólid] Sólido, consistente, macizo. Masinsin, paikpík, tipî, matigas, buô. Solidity, n. [solíditi] Solidez; densidad. Kabuoan, kasinsinan, sinsin. Soliloquize, v. [solílocuaiz] Hablar á solas. Magsasalitâ na walang kausap, bumulongbulong. Soliloquy, n. [sólilocui] Soliloquio. Pag-uusáp na walang kausap, bubulongbulong. Solitaire, n. [sólitar] Solitario. Solitaryo, nag-iisa. Solitary, n. [sóliteri] Solitario. Nag-iisa. Solitude, n. [sólitiud] Soledad, vida solitaria. Pag-iisa, pamumuhay na walang kasama. Soluble, adj. [sóliubl] Soluble. Natutunaw, maaaring tunawin. Solution, n. [soliúcioen] Solución. Pagtunaw; pagkalas; pagkakatuos. Solve, v. [solv] Resolver, explicar. Pasiyahan, ipaliwanag. Solvency, n. [sólvency] Solvencia. Kalagayan na makababayad ng utang. Solvent, adj. [sólvent] Solvente. Makababayad ng utang. Some, adj. [sam] Algo de, algun, alguno. Ilan, kaontî. Somebody, adj. [sambódi] Alguien, alguna persona. Sinoman, may táo, ibang táo. Somehow, adv. [sámjaw] De algún modo. Sa anoman, sa paano man. Somerset, n. [sómersoet] Salto mortal. Luksong matindí, luksong makamamatay. Something, n. [sámzing] Algo, alguna cosa. Anoman, anomang bagay. Something, adv. [sámzing] Algo, algun tanto. Kauntî. Sometime, adv. [sámtaim] En algun tiempo, antiguamente. Ng ibang panahon, noong araw. Sometimes, adv. [sámtaims] Algunas veces. Kung minsan. Somewhat, adv. [sámjuat] Algun tanto. Kauntî. Somewhere, adv. [sámjuer] En cualquier lugar. Saan man. Somnambulism, n. [sonámbiulizm] Sonambulismo. Kalagayang kahi't na nákakatulog ay gising ang kalooban. Somnambulist, adj. [somnámbiulist] Sonámbulo. Kahi't nakakatulog ay gisíng ang kalooban. Somnolence, n. [sómnolens] Somnolencia, gana de dormir. Antok. Somnolency = Somnolence. Somnolent, adj. [sómnolent] Somnolente. Nag aantok. Son, n. [san] Hijo. Anák na lalake. Song, n. [song] Cancion, canto. Kantá, awit. Songster, n. [sóngster] Cantor. Kantor, mánganganta. Songstress, n. [sóngstres] Cantora, cantatriz. Kantora, babaing mánganganta. Son-in-law, n. [san-in-lo] Yerno. Manugang na lalake. Sonorous, adj. [sonóroes] Sonoro, resonante. Matunog, mataginting. Soon, adv. [sun] Presto, pronto. Madalî, maliksí; pagdaka, karakaraka, agad, madalî. Sooner, adv. [súner] Mas pronto. Lalong madalî. Soot, n. [sut] Hollín. Agiw; kulilì. Sooth, adj. [suz] Agradable, delicioso. Kaayaaya, kalugodlugod. Soothe, v. [suz] Adular, lisonjear. Pumuri ng paimbabaw, tumuyâ. Soothsayer, n. [suzséyer] Adivino. Manghuhulà. Sooty, adj. [súti] Holliniento. Maagiw. Sop, n. [sop] Sopa. Sawsaw. Sophism, n. [sófizm] Sofisma. Pangangatwirang papilipít. Sorcerer, n. [sórcerer] Hechícero. Manggagaway, mangkukulam, hukluban. Sorceress, n. [sórceres] Hechícera. Babaing manggagaway. Sorcery, n. [sórceri] Hechizo, hechicería. Panggagaway, pangkukulam. Sordid, adj. [sórdid] Sórdido, sucio; avariento, tacaño. Salaulà, marumí, marungis; sakím, maramot. Sordidness, n. [sórdidnes] Sordidez; miseria. Kasalaulaan; kasalatán. Sore, adj. [sor] Doloroso, penoso. Masakít, mahapdî, maantak, makirot. Sore, n. [sor] Mal, dolor; llaga ó úlcera. Sakít, anták; sugat. Soreness, n. [sórnes] Dolencia, mal. Anták, sakít. Sorrow, n. [sór-ro] Pesar, tristeza, pesadumbre. Lungkot, lumbay, panlaw. Sorrow, v. [sór-ro] Entristecerse. Malungkot, malumbay, mamanlaw. Sorrowful, adj. [sor-ró-ful] Pesaroso, afligido. Nalulungkot, namamanlaw. Sorry, adj. [sór-ri] Triste, afligido. Namamanlaw, nalulumbay. Sort, n. [sort] Suerte, género, especie, calidad. Urì, klase, kalidad. Sort, v. [sort] Separar en distintas clases; escoger, eligir. Papagbukodbukurín; pumilì, humirang. Sot, n. [sot] Zote, hombre ignorante. Hangal, gunggong. Sottish, adj. [sótish] Torpe, rudo. Tangá, mangmang. Soul, n. [soúl] Alma; hombre, persona. Kálulwa; tao, katao. Sound, adj. [sáund] Sano; son, sonido. Magalíng; tunóg, hugong. Sound, v. [sáund] Sonar, resonar. Tumunog, humugong. Soundings, n. [saúndings] Sondeo. Pagtarok. Soundness, n. [saúndnes] Sanidad, vigor. Kagalingan, galing ng katawan, lakás. Soup, n. [sup] Sopa. Sopa. Sour, adj. [sáur] Agrio, ácido; acre, áspero. Maasim; mapaklá, maaskad. Sour, v [sáur] Agriar. Uumasim. Source, n. [soúrs] Manantial; principio. Bukál; simulâ, pinagmumulan, pinagbubuhatan. Souse, n. [sáus] Salmuera. Patis, kéchap, lawlaw. South, n. [sáuz] Mediodia, sur, sud. Timog, tímugan. Southern, adj. [saúsern] Meridional. Timugan. Southward, adv [sáuzward] Hácia el mediodia. Sa dakong, tímugan. Southwest, n. [sauzwést] Sudoeste. Habagat. Sovereign, n. [sóverin] Soberano, monarca. Harì. Sovereignty, n. [sóverinti] Soberanía. Paghaharì. Sow, n. [sáu] Puerca, marrana. Inahíng baboy. Sow, v. [so] Sembrar, esparcir las semillas. Maghasík, magtanim. Space, n. [spés] Espacio, extencion. Pagitan, pwang, agwat. Spacious, adj. [spécious] Espacioso, ancho, extenso. Malwag, malwang, malawak. Spade, n. [sped] Laya, asada; espadas [en los naipes]. Asada, pangpalitada; espada [sa baraha]. Spain, n [spen] España. Espanya. Span, n. [span] Palmo. Dangkal. Span, v. [span] Medir á palmos. Dangkalín. Spanish, adj. [spánish] Español. Kastilà. Spank, v. [spank] Golpear con las manos abiertas. Sumampal. Spare, adj. [sper] Escaso. Madalang. Spare, v. [sper] Dar, conceder; perdonar. Ibigay, ipahingè, ipagkaloob, ipatawad. Sparing, adj. [spáring] Frugal, económico. Matipid, mapag-impok. Spark, n. [spark] Chispa, centella. Kislap, kisáp, kinang. Spark, v. [spark] Chispear. Kumislap, kumisap, kuminang. Sparkle, n. [spárcl] Centella, chispa. Kisap, kislap, kinang. Sparkle, v. [spárcl] Chispear. Kumisap, kuminang, kumislap. Sparrow, n. [spár-ro] Gorrion. Maya. Sparse, adj. [spars] Delgado; tenue. Payat; malamlam. Spasm, n. [spasm] Espasmo, pasmo. Pasmá, pamamanhid, pulikat. Spasmodic, adj. [spasmódic] Espasmódico. Pasmado, lumpó. Spatter, v. [spáter] Salpicar, rociar; manchar. Pilansikan, dungisan, magwisík, magdilig. Spawn, n. [spon] Huevas de los peces. Itlog ng isdâ. Speak, v. [spík] Hablar, conversar. Magsalitâ, makipag-usap. Speaker, n. [spíker] El que habla; orador; presidente de la Asamblea Legislativa. Ang nagsasalitâ; mánanalumpatì; pangulo ng kapulungang bayan. Speaking, n. [spíking] Habla. Pananalitâ. Spear, n. [spír] Lanza, arpon. Sibát, salapáng. Spear, v. [spír] Herir ó matar con lanza ó arpon. Sumibat; sibatin; salapangin. Special, adj. [spécial] Especial, particular. Tangì, namumukod. Speciality, n. [speciáliti] Especialidad, singularidad. Pagkakatangì, pamumukod. Specie, n. [spíshi] Dinero contante. Salapî. Species, n. [spícies] Especie, clase ó género. Urì, klase. Specific, adj. [spisífic] Específico. Tagaurì. Specific, n. [spisífic] Específico. Gamot na yarì. Specification, n. [specifikécion] Especificacion. Pag-urì; pagpapaliwanag. Specify, v. [spésifai] Especificar. Uriin, liwánagin. Specimen, n. [spécimen] Muestra; prueba. Uliran, patunay. Specious, adj. [spícies] Especioso, hermoso. Malinaw, maganda. Speck, n. [spéc] Mancha, tacha. Bakat, dungis, manchá. Speckle, n. [spékl] Mancha, tacha. Bakat, dungis, manchá. Speckle, v. [spékl] Abigarrar, manchar. Bakatan, manchahan. Spectator, n. [spectétor] Espectador. Ang nanonood. Spectre, n. [spécter] Espectro, fantasma. Multó, katatakután. Speculate, v. [spékiulet] Especular; reflexionar. Mangalakal; magwarì, gumunitâ. Speculation, n. [spekiulécion] Especulacion; meditacion. Pangangalakal; warì, gunitâ. Speculative, adj. [spékiuletiv] Especulativo; contemplativo. Nakakalakal; nawawarì, nagugunitâ. Speculatory = Speculative. Speech, n. [spích] Discurso, habla; conversacion. Talumpatì; pananalitá; pangungusap. Speechless, adj. [spíchles] Mudo, sin habla. Pipe; utal; kimî, umíd. Speed, n. [spíd] Priesa, aceleracion, presteza, velocidad. Dalî, liksí, tulin. Speed, v. [spíd] Apresurar, dar priesa, acelerar. Magmadalî, magmaliksí, magmatulin. Speedy, adj. [spídi] Lijero, veloz, pronto. Madalî, maliksí, matulin. Spell, n. [spél] Hechizo, encanto. Gaway, enkanto. Spell, v. [spél] Deletrear. Magbaybay ng pantig ng salitâ, magdeletreyá. Spelling, n. [spéling] Deletreo. Pagbabaybay ng pantig ng salitâ, pagdedeletreyá. Spend, v. [spend] Gastar, expender. Maggugol, gumasta. Spendthrift, n. [spéndzrift] Pródigo, malgastador. Alibughâ, bulagsak. Sperm, n. [sperm] Esperma. Esperma. Spew, v. [spiú] Vomitar. Sumuka. Sphere, n. [sfér] Esfera. Bilog. Spheric, adj. [sféric] Esférico. Mabilog, nauukol sa bilog. Spherical, adj. [sférical] Esférico. Mabilog, nauukol sa bilog. Spice, n. [spáis] Especia, droga. Panimplá gaya ng pamintá, anis, ibp. Spicy, adj. [spáisi] Aromático. Mabango; malasa. Spider, n. [spáider] Araña. Gagambá, lawà. Spike, n. [spáik] Perno, espigon. Malaking pakò. Spike, v. [spáik] Clavar con espigones. Magpakò ng malaking pakò. Spill, n. [spíl] Astilla de madera. Tukod na kahoy. Spill, v. [spíl] Verter, derramar. Magligwak, magbuhos. Spin, v. [spin] Hilar; alargar, prolongar. Humabi; pahabain. Spinal, adj. [spáinal] Espinal. Nauukol sa gulugod. Spindle, n. [spíndl] Huso, quicio. Palihán, sulirán, ikirán. Spine, n. [spáin] Espinazo. Gulugod. Spinner, n. [spíner] Hilador, hilandera. Manghahabi; habihán. Spinning-jenny, n. [spíning-dchéni] Máquina de hilar. Mákinang habihán. Spinning-wheel, n. [spíning-juíl] Torno de hilar. Gulong na habihán. Spinster, n. [spínster] Hilandera. Habihán. Spiral, adj. [spáiral] Espiral. Sinusô. Spire, n. [spáir] Espira. Sinusô. Spirit, n. [spírit] Espíritu, aliento. Diwà, espíritu. Spirit, v. [spírit] Incitar, animar. Ganyakin, buhayin ang loob. Spirited, adj. [spírited] Vivo, brioso. Buháy ang loob, magarà. Spiritless, adj. [spíritles] Abatido, sin espíritu. Lupaypay, walang diwà. Spiritous, adj. [spíritoes] Espiritoso; vivo, activo. Nauukol sa diwà; masikap. Spiritual, adj. [spíritual] Espiritual. Nauukol sa diwà. Spirt, v. [spírt] Arrojar un líquido en un chorro, jeringar. Pasalumpitin, labatibahin. Spit, n. [spit] Asador; azadonada. Ihawan; pag aasarol. Spit, v. [spit] Escupir. Lumurâ. Spite, n. [spáit] Rencor, odio. Galit, samâ ng loob, poot, pagtatanim sa loob. Spite, v. [spáit] Dar pesar. Magpasamâ ó magpasákit ng loob. Spiteful, adj. [spáitful] Rencoroso. Mapagtanim sa loob. Spitefulness, n. [spáitfulnes] Malicia, rencor. Táglaying masamâ, pagtatanim. Spittle, n. [spitl] Saliva; esputo. Laway, lurâ; kalaghalâ. Spittoon, n. [spittún] Escupidera. Lúraan. Splash, v. [splash] Salpicar; enlodar. Pumilansik, tumilansik, pagputikin. Spleen, n. [splín] Bazo. Lapay. Splendid, adj [spléndid] Espléndido, magnífico. Marilag, mainam, maigi, dakilà. Splendor, n. [spléndor] Esplendor, pompa, brillantez. Dilag, inam, igi, ningning. Splice, v. [spláis] Costura de cabo. Dugtong, sugpong. Splint, n. [splint] Rancajo. Bangkot. Splinter, n. [splínter] Astilla, raja. Patpat, tatal. Splinter, v. [splínter] Astillar, hacerse pedazos; henderse. Sumipak, sipakín, lumahang. Split, v. [split] Hender, dividir, partir. Lumahang, sumipak, bumiak. Spoil, n. [spóil] Despojo, botin. Naagaw, nápagharangan, násamsam. Spoil, v. [spóil] Pillar, despojar; inutilizar. Mangagaw, manamsam; sirain. Spoiler, n. [spóiler] Corruptor, despojador. Máninirà, mángangagaw. Spoke, n. [spok] Rayo de la rueda. Rayos ng gulong. Spokes-man, n. [spóksman] Interlocutor. Ang nagsasalitâ, ang nakikipag-usap. Spoliate, v. [spóliet] Robar, pillar. Magnakaw, mangharang. Spoliation, n. [spóliécion] Despojo. Pangangamkam. Sponge, n. [spondch] Esponja. Espongha. Sponge, v. [spondch] Limpiar con esponja. Linisin ng espongha. Spongy, adj. [spóndchi] Esponjoso. Buhaghag. Sponsor, n. [spónsor] Fiador, padrino. Tagapanagot, inaamá. Spontaneity, n. [sponteneíti] Espontaneidad. Pagkukusà. Spontaneous, adj. [sponténioes] Espontáneo. Kusà, bukal sa loob. Spool, n. [spúl] Canilla, broca. Ikirán. Spoon, n. [spún] Cuchara. Kuchara, sandok. Spoonful, adj. [spúnful] Cucharada. Sangkuchara. Sport, n. [spórt] Juego, diversión, recreo, pasatiempo. Larô, líbangan, pangparaan ng panahón. Sport, v. [spórt] Divertirse, regocijarse. Maglibáng magsayá. Sportful, adj. [spórtful] Festivo, chistoso, agradable. Masayá, mapagpatawa, kaayaaya. Sportive = sportful. Sportsman, n. [spórts-man] Cazador, aficionado á la caza. Mángangaso. Spot, n. [spót] Mancha, mácula; sitio, lugar. Batik, dungis, manchá; dako, lugar. Spot, v. [spót] Abigarrar, manchar. Papagbatíkbatikín, dungisan, manchahán. Spotless, adj. [spótles] Inmaculado, limpio. Walang dungis, malinis. Spotted, adj. [spótted] Lleno de manchas, sucio. May manchá, marumí. Spotty = spotted. Spousal, n. [spáusal] Nupcias, casamiento. Pag-aasawa, kasal. Spouse, n. [spáus] Esposo, esposa. Asawa. Spout, n. [spáut] Caña por donde sale el agua. Pádaluyan ng tubig. Sprain, n. [spren] Dislocación. Batì, balingangà. Sprain, v. [spren] Descoyuntar. Mabalian, mabalingangà. Sprawl, v. [sprol] Bregar, revolcarse. Gumumon, magpagulong-gulong, ipaghampasan ang katawan. Spray, n. [spre] Leña menuda; vástago; espuma de la mar. Kahoy; swí; bulâ ng dagat. Spread, n. [spréd] Extensión, dilatación. Pagkakalatag, pagkakalat. Spread, v. [spréd] Extender, esparcir, divulgar. Ilatag, iladlad, ikalat, palaganapin, isabog. Sprig, n. [sprig] Ramito, pimpollo. Sangang muntî; usbong. Sprightliness, n. [spráitlines] Alegría, vivacidad. Sayá, kasayahan, kagaanan ng katawan. Sprightly, adj. [spráitli] Alegre, despierto. Masayá, magaan ang katawan. Spring, n. [spring] Primavera; manantial; origen, principio; salto. Tagaraw; bukal, pinagmulan; lundag. Spring, v. [spring] Brotar; originarse, saltar. Sumibol, bumukál, pagmulán, lumuksó. Springe, n. [sprindch] Lazo de cazador. Bitag, silò. Springle = springe. Springy, n. [spríndchi] Elástico. Sunudsunuran. Sprinkle, v. [sprínkl] Rociar; regar. Magwisík; magdilig. Sprinkling, n. [spríncling] Rociamiento. Pagwiwisík. Sprite, n. [spráit] Fantasma. Katakután, tyanak. Sprout, n. [spráut] Vástago, renuevo. Suplíng, supang, usbong. Sprout, v. [spráut] Brotar. Sumuplíng, sumupang, umusbóng. Spruce, adj. [spriús] Lindo, pulido. Mainam, maganda, makinis. Spruceness, n. [spriúsnes] Lindeza, belleza. Karikitan, kagandahan. Spume, n. [spiúm] Espuma. Bulâ. Spume, v. [spiúm] Espumar. Bumulâ. Spumous, adj. [spiúmoes] Espumoso. Mabulâ. Spumy, adj. [spiúmi] Espumoso. Mabulâ. Spungy, adj. [spándchi] Esponjoso. Buhaghag. Spur, n [spoer] Espuela. Espuela. Spurious, adj. [spiúroes] Espurio, falso, degenerado. Anák sa ligaw, hamak. Spurn, v. [spoern] Cocear, acocear. Manipà, manikad. Sputter, v. [spátoer] Escupir con frecuencia. Maglulurâ, magdadahák. Spy, n. [spai] Espía. Tiktík. Spy, v. [spai] Espiar. Tumiktik. Spy-glass, n. [spái-glass] Anteojo de larga vista. Salaming pangtanaw sa malayò. Squab, adj. [scuob] Implume, rechoncho, regordete. Walâ pang pakpak, kapipisâ lamang sa itlog; matabâ. Squabble, n. [scuobl] Riña, pendencia, disputa, contienda. Káalitan, away, babag; pagtatalo. Squabble, v. [scuobl] Reñir, disputar. Makipag-alit, makipagtalo. Squabbler, n. [scuóbler] Pendenciero. Basag-ulero, mapagbasag-ulo. Squadron, n. [scuódron] Escuadrón. Pulutong. Squalid, adj. [scuólid] Sucio, puerco. Salaulà, baboy. Squall, n. [scuol] Chubasco. Bugsô ng ulán, unós. Squall, v. [scuol] Chillar. Tumilî, humiyaw. Squally, adj. [scuóli] Borrascoso. Maunós. Squalor, n. [scuélor] Suciedad, porquería. Karumihan, kasalaulaan. Squander, v. [scuónder] Malgastar, disipar. Sumayang ng salapî, mag-alibughâ, magbulagsák. Square, n. [scúer] Cuadrado, cuadrangular; plaza. Parisukát; líwasan. Square, v. [scúer] Cuadrar; ajustar. Parisukatin; iakmâ. Squash, n. [scuásh] Cidracayote. Kalabasang ligaw. Squash, v. [scuásh] Aplastar, magullar. Pisain, lamugin. Squat, adj. [scuót] Agachado. Nakayukô. Squat, v. [scuót] Agacharse. Yumukô. Squeak, n. [scuík] Alarido, grito, plañido. Tilî, hiyaw, pigibík. Squeak, v. [scuík] Chillar, plañir. Tumilî, humiyaw, magpagibik. Squeal, v. [scuil] Gritar, plañir. Tumilî, manangis. Squeamish, adj. [scuímish] Fastidioso, demasiado delicado. Nakayayamot, maselang. Squeeze, n. [scuíz] Compresión, apretadura. Pigâ, pindot, higpít, diin. Squeeze, v. [scuíz] Comprimir, apretar, estrechar. Pigain, pindutin, higpitín idiin. Squib, n. [scuib] Cohete, buscapie. Kwitis. Squint, adj. [scuínt] Ojizaino, bizco. Sulimpat, dulíng, biskó. Squint, v. [scuínt] Bizquear. Maduling, mabiskó. Squirt, n. [scuírt] Jeringa, jeringazo. Sumpít, pulandít. Squirt, v. [scuírt] Jeringar. Sumumpít, pumulandít. Stab, n. [stab] Puñalada, golpe. Saksák. Stab, v. [stab] Herir ó matar á puñaladas. Manaksak, sumaksak. Stability, n. [stabíliti] Estabilidad, solidez. Tatag, tibay. Stable, adj. [stébl] Estable, firme, sólido. Matatag, matibay. Stable, n. [stébl] Establo. Silungan ng kabayo, kabalyerisa. Stable, v. [stébl] Poner en el establo. Isilong sa kabalyerisa. Stack, n. [stac] Niara. Mandalâ, salansan, bunton. Stack, v. [stac] Hacinar. Magsalansan, magbunton. Staff, n. [stáf] Báculo, palo, apoyo, sosten. Tukod, baras, tungkod. Stag, n. [stag] Ciervo. Usá. Stage, n. [stédch] Tablado. Entablado, pálabasan ng pánoorin. Stagger, v. [stáguer] Hacer eses; vacilar, titubear. Gumiraygiray; mag-urong sulong. Stagnancy, n. [stágnansi] Estagnación. Pagkahadlang, pagkaharang. Stagnant, adj. [stágnant] Estancado, encharcado. Nahahadlangan, nahaharang. Stagnate, v. [stágnet] Estancarse. Tumigil, mahadlangan. Staid, adj. [sted] Grave, sosegado. Walang kibô, pormal, tahimik. Stain, n. [sten] Mancha, deshonra. Manchá, kasiraang puri. Stain, v. [sten] Manchar, ensuciar; empañar la reputación. Manchahan, dungisan; sirain ang puri. Stainless, adj. [sténles] Limpio, inmaculado. Malinis, walang dungis. Stair, n. [stoer] Escalón. Baytang. Staircase, n. [sterkés] Escalera. Hagdanan. Stake, n. [stec] Estaca, poste. Tulos, tukod, halige. Stake, v. [stec] Estacar. Tulusan. Stale, adj. [stel] Añejo, viejo, rancio. Laón, lumà, maantá. Stak, n. [stak] Tronco, tallo. Punò [ng pananím]. Stak, v. [stak] Andar con paso majestuoso. Lumakad ng tila kung gasino. Stall, n. [stól] Pesebre; tienda portatil; silla [de coro]. Kakanán ng hayop; tindahang buhat-buhat; likmuan [sa koro]. Stall, v. [stól] Meter en el establo. Ilagay sa kabalyerisa. Stallion, n. [stálion] Caballo padre. Kabayong simarrón. Stalwart, adj. [stólwart] Robusto, vigoroso. Malakí, malakás. Stalworth = Stalwart. Stammer, v. [stámer] Tartamudear. Mautál, maumíd. Stammerer, n. [stámerer] Tartamudo. Utál, umíd. Stamp, n. [stámp] Sello; estampa, impresion. Selyo; tatak, limbag. Stamp, v. [stámp] Sellar. Selyuhan, lagyan ng selyo. Stampede, n. [stampéd] Susto, terror. Kilabot, síndak, takot. Stanch, adj. [stánch] Sano, en buen estado. Magalíng, walang sirà. Stanch, v. [stánch] Estancarse. Maharang, mahadlangan. Stand, n. [sténd] Puesto, sitio. Táyuan, dako. Stand, v. [sténd] Estar en pie. Tumayô, tumindig, lumagay. Standard, n. [stándard] Estandarte; modelo, norma. Bandilà; ulirán, parisán. Standing, adj. [sténding] Levantado. Nakatayô, nakatindig; patayô, patindig. Staple, adj. [stápl] Establecido. Matatag. Star, n. [stár] Estrella. Bituin. Starch, n. [stárch] Almidon. Almirol. Starch, v. [stárch] Almidonar. Mag-almirol. Stare, n. [stér] Mirada fija. Titig, pungay. Stare, v. [stér] Clavar la vista. Tumitig, magpápungay. Stark, adj. [stark] Fuerte, áspero. Malakas, matigas. Start, n. [stárt] La accion de comenzar; ímpetu, arranque. Pagsisimulâ; kabiglaanan, daluhong. Start, v. [stárt] Principiar, comenzar. Simulan, pasimulan. Startle, n. [stártl] Espanto, susto. Sindak, gulat. Startle, v. [stártl] Espantar, asustar. Masindak, mágitla, mágulat. Starvation, n. [starvécion] Muerte de hambre. Pagkamatay sa gutom. Starve, v. [stárv] Perecer de hambre. Mamatay sa gutom. State, n. [stét] Estado, condicion; estado, el cuerpo politico de una nacion. Lagay, kalagayan; tayô; katayuan; pámahalaan. State, v. [stét] Ajustar, arreglar. Iakmâ, ayusin. Stately, adj. [stétli] Augusto, magestuoso. Marilag, marangal, dakilà. Statement, n. [stétment] Relacion, cuenta. Salaysay, patalastas. Station, n. [stécion] Estacion. Hantungan, himpilan. Station, v. [stécion] Apostar. Idistino, iukol sa gayong dako. Stationary, adj. [stécieneri] Estacionario, fijo. Namamalagì, nananatili. Stationer, n. [stéciener] Librero papelero. Mánininda ng mga aklat at mga kagamitan sa pagsulat. Stationery, n. [stécieneri] Toda especie de papel y demas avios necesarios para escribir. Mga gamit sa pagsulat. Statuary, n. [státiueri] Estatuaria; estatuario, escultor. Karunungan sa paggawâ ng mga larawan, manggagawà ng mga larawan, eskultor. Statue, n. [stétiu] Estatua. Larawan. Stature, n. [státiur] Estatura. Taas, tayô. Statute, n. [státiut] Estatuto; reglamento. Utos; palatuntunan. Stave, v. [stev] Hacer pedazos una cosa, hacer astillas. Basagín, pagputolputulin. Stay, n. [sté] Estancia, parada. Pagkatigil, pagkatira. Stay, v. [sté] Quedarse, permanecer. Mátira, málabi. Stead, n. [stid] Lugar, sitio, paraje. Dako, pook, lugar. Steadfast, adj. [stédfast] Fijo, estable, sólido. Matibay, matatag. Steady, adj. [stédi] Firme, fijo. Matibay, matatag. Steal, v. [stíl] Hurtar, robar. Mang-umít, magnakaw. Stealer, n. [stíler] Ladron. Mang-uumit, magnanakaw. Stealth, n. [stélz] Hurto. Pang-uumit, pagnanakaw. Stealthy, adj. [stélzi] Furtivo. Patagô, pilihím. Steam, n. [stím] Vapor, humo. Usok, asó. Steam, v. [stím] Vahear. Umusok, umasó. Steamer, w. [stímer] Vapor, buque de vapor. Bapór. Steed, n. [stíd] Caballo de regalo. Kabayong pangregalo. Steel, n. [stíl] Acero. Acero; patalím. Steep, adj. [stíp] Escarpado; escabroso. Matarik; bakubakô, talabis. Steep, n. [stíp] Precipicio. Dalusdos. Steep, v. [stíp] Empapar. Tigmakin. Steeple, n. [stipl] Torre, campanario. Moog, latore, kampanaryo. Steer, n. [stir] Novillo. Guyang toro. Steer, v. [stir] Dirigir el rumbo ó la embarcacion. Umugit; mamiloto. Steerage, n. [stíredch] Direccion en el rumbo. Pag-ugit; pamimiloto. Stellar, adj. [stélar] Astral, estrellado. Nauukol sa bituin. Stellary = Stellar. Stem, n. [stém] Tallo. Tangkay. Stem, v. [stém] Cortar la corriente; ir contra viento ó marea. Sumubà; sumungsong. Stench, n. [sténch] Hedor, hediondez. Bahò, alingasaw. Stenographer, n. [stenógrafer] Estenógrafo. Marunong ng estenograpyá. Stenograpy, n. [stenógrafi] Estenografía. Estenograpya, karunungan sa pagsulat ng mga tandang nagkakahulugan ng salitâ. Step, n. [step] Paso; escalon. Hakbang; baytang. Step, v. [step] Dar un paso. Humakbang. Step-brother, n. [step-bródzer] Medio hermano. Kapatid na lalake ng anák ng pangalawang asawa ng ama ó iná. Stepdaughter, n. [stepdóter] Hijastra. Pamangking babae sa pakinabang. Stepfather, n. [stepfádzer] Padrastro. Amain sa pakinabang. Stepmother, n. [stepmódzer] Madrastra. Ale sa pakinabang. Stepping-stone, n. [stéping-ston] Piedra pasadera. Batong hakbangan, batong laktawan. Stepsister, n. [stepsíster] Media hermana. Kapatid na babae ng anák ng pangalawang asawa ng amá ó iná. Stepson, n. [stépson] Hijastro. Pamangking lalake sa pakinabang. Stereotype, n. [stériotaip] Estereotipia. Estereotipya. Sterile, adj. [stéril] Estéril. Basal; baog. Sterility, n. [steríliti] Esterilidad. Kalagayang basal ó baog. Stern, adj. [stérn] Austero, rígido, severo. Masungít, mahigpít. Stern, n. [stérn] Popa. Hulihán ng sasakyan. Stertorous, adj. [stértorous] Roncador. Hílikin, naghihilík. Stew, n. [stiú] Carne estofada. Ginisá. Steward, n. [stíuard] Mayordomo. Mayordomo, katiwalà. Stew-pan, n. [stiú-pen] Cazuela. Kawalì, gísahan. Stick, n. [stíc] Palo, palillo; bastón. Palo; patpat, bastón, tungkód. Stick, v. [stíc] Pegar, unir. Idikit, ikapit. Sticky, adj. [stíki] Pegajoso, viscoso. Malagkít. Stiff, adj. [stif] Tieso, duro. Unát, banát, matigás. Stiffen, v. [stífn] Atiesar, endurecer. Unatin, banatin, patigasin. Stiffness, n. [stífnes] Tesura, dureza. Tigas, katigasan. Stifle, n. [stifl] Sofocar, apagar, extinguir. Sugpuin, patayin, ang anomang nagniningas. Stile, n. [stáil] Estilo; portillo con escalones. Estilo, gawî; pintuang may mga baytang. Stiletto, n. [stiléto] Verduguillo. Panaksak. Still, adj. [stil] Silencioso, tranquilo, quieto. Tahimik, walang imik, walang kibô. Still, adv. [stil] Todavía, aun. Pa, gayon man. Still, n. [stil] Alambique. Alakán, gáwaan ng alak. Still, v. [stil] Aquietar, acallar, aplacar. Patahimikin, payapain. Stilts, n. [stilts] Zancos. Tiyakad. Stimulant, adj. [stímiulant] Estimulante. Pangpalakas, pangpabuyo. Stimulate, v. [stímiulet] Estimular. Magbuyó, mag-udyok. Sting, n. [sting] Aguijon; punzada; picadura. Tibò; durò, tukâ, kagat. Sting, v. [stíng] Picar ó morder un insecto. Mátibò, mátukâ, mákagat. Stingy, adj. [stíndchi] Mezquino, tacaño, ruin. Maramot, kuripot. Stink, n. [stínk] Hedor, mal olor. Bahò, alingasaw, anghít, bantót. Stink, v. [stínk] Heder. Bumahò, umalingasaw. Stint, n. [stínt] Límite, restriccion. Hanggá, koto. Stint, v. [stínt] Limitar. Kotohan, bigyan ng hanggá. Stipend, n. [stáipend] Estipendio, sueldo, paga. Bayad, kabayaran, upa, sahod. Stipulate, v. [stípiulet] Estipular. Makiusap, lakarin ang isang kásunduan, makipagkayarî. Stipulation, n. [stipiulécion] Estipulacion. Káyarian, kásunduan, sálitaan. Stir, n. [stir] Movimiento, conmocion, tumulto. Galaw, kilos; halò, luglog; guló. Stir, v. [stir] Remover, agitar. Haluin, alugin, luglugin, kalikawin. Stirrup, n. [stírap] Estribo. Estribo. Stitch, n. [stítch] Puntado, cada una de las lazadas ó nuditos de las medias. Durò, tusok. Stitch, v. [stítch] Coser. Tumahî. Stock, n. [stóc] Tronco; leño; ganado en general, fondo. Punò (ng kahoy;) tangkay; kahoy; mga hayop; nakataan. Stock, v. [stóc] Proveer, abastecer. Magtaan, maglaan. Stocking, n. [stóking] Media. Medyas. Stoker, n. [stóker] Fuellero. Pugonero. Stomach, n. [stómac] Estómago. Sikmurà, tyan. Stomach, v. [stómac] Enfadarse, enojarse. Magalít, mag-init. Stone, n. [stón] Piedra. Bató. Stone, v. [stón] Apedrear. Bumato; batuhin, pukulín. Stony, adj. [stóni] Pedregoso. Mabató. Stool, n. [stul] Banquillo, taburete. Bangkô, taburete. Stoop, n. [stúp] Inclinacion hácia abajo. Yukod, yukô. Stoop, v. [stúp] Encorvarse. Yumukod, yumukô. Stop, n. [stáp] Parada, pausa. Hintô, tigil. Stop, v. [stáp] Detener, parar, suspender. Humintô, tumihil, magpahingá. Stoppage, n. [stópedch] Obstruccion, embarazo. Gambalà, hadlang. Stopple, n. [stopl] Tapon. Tapon, pasak. Storage, n. [stóredch] Almacenamiento, almacenaje. Pagtitinggal, pagiipon. Store, n. [stór] Almacen, tienda. Pámilihan, tindahan. Store, v. [stór] Surtir, proveer, acumular, acopiar. Magtaan, maglaan, mag-ipon, magtipon, magimbak. Store-house, n. [stór-jaus] Almacen. Kamalig na imbakan. Stork, n. [stórk] Cigüeña. Tagák. Storm, n. [storm] Tempestad, tormenta, borrasca. Unos, sigwa, bagyo. Storm, v. [storm] Descargar la tempestad, levantarse una borrasca. Umunos, bumagyó. Stormy, adj. [stórmi] Tempestuoso, borrascoso. Maunos, masigwa. Story, n. [stóri] Cuento; piso. Kwento, kathang salaysay; piso (ng bahay,) lapag. Stout, adj. [stáut] Fornido, robusto, fuerte. Batibot, batipunô, malakas. Stout, n. [stáut] Cerveza fuerte. Serbesang matapang. Stove, n. [stov] Estufa. Kalan, apuyán. Stow, v. [stó] Ordenar, colocar. Mag-ayos, maghusay; maglapag. Straggle, v. [strágl] Vagar, corretear. Maggalâ, lumaboy. Straight, adj. [streít] Derecho, recto. Matwid, tuloytuloy. Straighten, v. [stréten] Enderezar. Twirin. Straight forward, adj. [strét forward] Derecho. Tuloytuloy. Strain, v. [strén] Colar, filtrar. Salain; tawasin. Strainer, n. [stréner] Colador. Saláan. Strait, adj. [streít] Estrecho, angosto. Makipot, makitid. Strait, n. [streít] Estrecho; aprieto, peligro. Gipit, kagipitan, panganib. Straiten, v. [strétn] Apretar, reducir á estrechez. Gipitin. Strand, n. [strand] Costa, playa, ribera. Baybay, pangpang. Strand, v. [strand] Encallar. Sumadsad. Strange, adj. [stréndch] Extraño, extravagante. Ibá, kaibá, katakataka, katwâ, kakatwâ. Strange, v. [stréndch] Extrañar, admirarse de alguna cosa. Magtaká, manibago, manggilalás. Stranger, n. [strándcher] Extrangero. Tagaibang lupain. Strangle, v. [strángl] Ahogar. Uminis, sumakal. Strangulation, n. [stranguiulécion] Ahogamiento. Pang-iinís, pananakal. Strap, n. [strap] Correa, tira de cuero. Sintás, panalì. Strapping, adj. [stráping] Abultado, corpulento. Nakaumbok, malakí. Stratagem, n. [stratádchem] Estratagema, astucia. Laláng, paraan, hibò. Strategy, n. [strátedchi] Estrategia. Paraan, laláng. Straw, n. [stró] Paja. Dayami, paha. Stray, adj. [stré] Extraviado. Náwawalâ, nakakákawalâ. Stray, n. [stré] Descarriamiento. Pagkawalâ, pagkakaligaw. Stray, v. [stré] Descarriarse, extraviarse. Mawalâ, máligaw, málihis. Streak, n. [stríc] Raya, lista. Guhit. Streak, v. [stríc] Rayar. Guhitan. Stream, n. [strím] La corriente ó curso del agua que corre, arroyo, torrente, rio. Agos, batis, ilog, bang-bang. Stream, v. [strím] Correr, fluir. Umagos, bumuhos, bumugsô. Streamlet, n. [strímlet] Arroyuelo. Batis, munting ilog. Street, n. [strít] Calle. Daan, lansangan, kalye. Strength, n. [strénz] Fuerza, vigor; eficacia, virtud. Lakas, kalakasan; tibay; bisà. Strengthen, v. [stréngzen] Fortalecer, fortificar. Palakasín; pagtibayin. Strenuous, adj. [stréniwoes] Estrenuo, valeroso. Malakas, matapang. Stress, n. [strés] Fuerza; importancia, valor. Lakás; halagá, kabuluhan. Stretch, n. [strétch] Estirón, esfuerzo. Tindí; balták. Stretch, v. [strétch] Estirar; extender, alargar. Baltakin; hilahin, unatin, banatin. Stretcher, n. [strétcher] Cualquiera cosa que sirve para alargar ó estirar á otra. Tindíhan. Strict, adj. [stríct] Estricto, rigoroso, severo. Mahigpít, maganít, mabagsik. Strictness, n. [strícnes] Rigor, severidad. Higpít, ganít, bagsík. Stricture, n. [strícchur] Sello, marca. Tandâ, tatak, marká. Stride, n. [stráid] Tranco, un paso largo. Laktaw, hakbang na malakí. Stride, v. [stráid] Atrancar. Lumaktaw, humakbang. Strife, n. [stráif] Contienda, disputa. Káalitan, pagtatalo. Strike, n. [stráik] Golpe. Bugbog, hampás, palò; tamà. Strike, v. [stráik] Golpear; tocar. Humampas, pumalò; tumamà. String, n. [stríng] Cordon, hilo, cuerda, fibra. Pisì, sinulid, panalì, kwerdas, bagting, hiblá. String, v. [stríng] Encordar, templar algun instrumento de cuerdas. Lagyan ng bagting ó kwerdas; timplahín ang tunog. Stringent, adj. [stríndchent] Astringente. Mabagsík. Stringy, adj. [stríndchi] Fibroso. Mahiblá, mahilachá. Strip, n. [stríp] Tira. Gutay. Strip, v. [stríp] Desnudar, despojar; descortezar. Hubaran, hubdan; talupan. Stripe, n. [stráip] Raya, lista. Guhit. Stripe, v. [stráip] Rayar. Guhitan. Stripling, n. [strípling] Mozuelo. Batang lalake. Strive, v. [stráiv] Esforzarse, empeñarse. Magsikap, magsumikap, magpilit, magpumilit. Stroke, n. [strók] Golpe, toque. Tamà, bugbog, dagok, hampás, palò. Stroke, v. [strók] Acariciar. Tapikin ng maamò. Stroll, v. [stról] Tunar, vagar. Lumaboy, gumalà. Strong, adj. [stróng] Fuerte, forzudo, vigoroso. Malakas; matibay. Stronghold, n. [stróngjold] Plaza, fuerte. Kutà. Strop, n. [stróp] Cuero. Kutad. Structure, n. [strúcchur] Estructura, construcción. Pagkakaakmâ, pagkakatayô. Struggle, n. [strágl] Lucha, resistencia, contienda. Pungyagî, bunô, labanán, pamook. Struggle, v. [strágl] Luchar, contender. Makipagpungyagî, makipagbunô, lumaban. Strut, v. [stroet] Contonearse, pavonearse. Lumakad na may kahambugan. Stub, n. [stab] Tronco. Punò [ng kahoy], beha, upos. Stubble, n. [stabl] Rastrojo. Pasyok, pinagputulan ng dayami. Stubborn, adj. [stáborn] Tenaz, contumaz, testarudo. Matigas ang ulo, mapagmatigas. Stubbornness, n. [stábornes] Obstinación, terquedad. Katigasan ng ulo, katigasan ng loob. Stud, n. [stæd] Poste, estaca; tachon. Tukod, tulos; guhit na pinakaburá. Stud, v. [stæd] Tachonar. Guhitan ng pinakabura. Student, n. [stiúdent] Estudiante. Ang nag-aaral. Studious, adj. [stiúdoes] Estudioso. Masipag mag-aral. Study, n. [stádi] Estudio. Pag-aaral. Study, v. [stádi] Estudiar. Mag-aral. Stuff, n. [staf] Materia, material. Bagay, kasangkapan. Stuff, v. [staf] Engullir, trazar. Magmualan, sumakmal. Stuffing, n. [stáfing] Relleno. Panglaman; panimplá. Stumble, n. [stámbl] Tropiezo, traspie. Tisod, dupilas. Stumble, v. [stámbl] Tropezar, deslizarse. Mátisod, mádupilas. Stumbling-block, n. [stámbling-blac] Tropezadero; piedra de escándalo. Kinatitisuran; pinagkakasalahan. Stump, n. [stamp] Tronco de un árbol. Punò [ng kahoy]; tangkay. Stun, v. [stæn] Aturdir, atolondrar. Lituhín, tuligin. Stunt, v. [stoent] No dejar crecer. Bansutin. Stupefaction, n. [stiupifáccioen] Estupefacción, pasmo; asombro, estupor. Pagkamanga, pagkamaang; panggigilalas. Stupefy, v. [stiúpifai] Atontar, atolondrar. Pahangain, tuligin. Stupendous, adj. [stiúpendoes] Estupendo, asombroso, maravilloso. Kahangahangà, katakataká, kagilágilalás. Stupid, adj. [stiúpid] Estúpido. Hangal, gunggóng. Stupidity, n. [stiupíditi] Estupidez, tontería. Kahangalan, kagunggungan. Stupor, n. [stiúpor] Estupor, atontamiento. Pagkakamanga, kahanga-lán. Sturdy, adj. [stárdi] Fuerte; tieso. Malakas, matibay; matigas, unat. Stutter, v. [státer] Tartamudear. Umutal, mautal, magago, magaril, maumíd. Style, n. [stáil] Estilo, uso, modo. Gawî, kináhiratihan, paraan. Stylish, adj. [stáilish] Elegante, en buen estilo. Mainam, marikit, masarap basahin ó pakinggan. Suavity, n. [suáviti] Suavidad, dulzura. Lambot, tamís. Subaltern, adj. [soebáltern] Subalterno, inferior. Sakop, saklaw, mababà. Subdivide, v. [sabdiváid] Subdividir. Mulíng hatiin. Subdue, v. [sabdiú] Sujetar, dominar. Supilin, pasukuin. Subject, adj. [sábdchect] Sujeto, sometido á. Sukò, supil, nasa kapangyarihan ng iba. Subject, n. [sábdchect] Vasallo, súbdito; sujeto, materia, tema. Kampon, kabig, kawal; bagay, pinaguusapan, súliranin. Subject, v. [sabdchéct] Sujetar, someter. Supilin, pasukuin. Subjection, n. [sabdchéccion] Sujecion; yugo. Pagsupil, pagpapasukò; atang. Subjoin, v. [sabdchóin] Sobreañadir. Idugtong. Subjugate, v. [sabchiúguet] Sojuzgar, sujetar. Supilin, daigín. Subjugation, n. [sabdchiuguécion] Sujecion. Pagsupil, pagdaig. Subjunction, n. [sabdchánccion] Sobreañadidura. Dugtong, sugpong. Sublimate, v. [sáblimet] Engrandecer, ensalzar. Ibunyî, padakilain. Sublime, adj. [sabláim] Sublime, excelso. Dakilà, bunyî, magiting. Sublimity, n. [sablímiti] Sublimidad. Kadakilaan, kabunyian. Submarine, adj. [sabmarín] Submarino. Nasa ilalim ng dagat. Submerge, v. [sabmérdch] Sumergir, zambullir. Sumisid, sumukbó, lumubog. Submersion, n. [sabmérsion] Sumersión. Sisid, sukbó, paglubog. Submission, n. [sabmísion] Sumision. Hinohod, pagsukò. Submissive, adj. [sabmísiv] Sumiso, rendido. Napahihinuhod, sukò. Submit, v. [sabmít] Someter [se]. Pahinohod, sumukò. Subordinate, adj. [sábordinet] Subordinador, inferior. Kampon, mababà. Subordinate, v. [sábordinet] Subordinar. Pasukuin, supilin. Subordination, n. [sabordinécion] Subordinacion. Pagpapasukò, pagsupil. Suborn, v. [sabórn] Sobornar, cohechar. Sumuhol; suhulan. Subornation, n. [sabornécion] Soborno, cohecho. Suhol. Subscribe, v. [sabscráib] Suscribir, certificar con su firma. Sumuskribé, sumali, magpatotoo ng kanyang lagdâ. Subscription, n. [sabscrípcion] Suscripcion, la firma de una carta. Suskripsion, ang lagdâ sa isang sulat. Subsequent, adj. [sábsicuent] Subsiguiente. Kasunod. Subserve, v. [sabsérv] Servir, favorecer. Maglingkod, kumalingâ. Subside, v. [sabsáid] Sumergirse. Lumubog. Subsidiary, n. [sabsídiari] Subsidiario. Katulong, nauukol sa saklolo ó abuloy. Subsidy, n. [sábsidi] Subsidio, ayuda. Saklolo, abuloy, tulong. Subsist, v. [sabsíst] Subsistir, permanecer. Manatile, mamalagì. Subsistence, n. [sabsístens] Subsistencia, existencia. Pananatile, pamamalagè. Substance, n. [sábstans] Sustancia, ser, esencia, naturaleza de las cosas. Sustansia, lamán. Substantial, adj. [sabstáncial] Sustancial, real, material. Nauukol sa lamán ó sustansia, totoo. Substantiality, n. [sabstanciáliti] Realidad, la existencia física y real. Katunayan, katalagahan. Substantiate, v. [sabstánciet] Hacer existir. Patunayan. Substantive, n. [sábstantiv] Sustantivo. Sustantibo. Substitute, n. [sábstitiut] Sustituto. Kahalile, kapalít. Substitute, v. [sábstitiut] Sustituir. Halinhan, palitan. Substract, v. [sábstract] Sustraer. Hugutin, bunutin; awasín, bawasin. Substraction, n. [sabstráccion] Sustraccion. Paghugot, pagbunot. Substratum, n. [sabstrétoem] Lecho. Hígaan. Subterfuge, n. [sábterfiudch] Subterfugio, evasion. Pagtakas, pagtataanán. Subterranean, adj. [sábterrénian] Subterráneo. Nasa ilalim ng lupà. Subtile, adj. [sábtil] Sutil, delicado; perspicaz, penetrante; agudo. Marupok, babasagín, maselang; tuso, matalino, matalas. Subtility, n. [sábtiliti] Sutilidad. Katusuhan, kaswitikan. Subtilization, n. [sabtilizécion] Sutileza. Panunuso, panunwitik. Subtilize, v. [sábtilaiz] Sutilizar. Manuso, manwitik. Subtle, adj. [sábtl] Sutil, astuto. Tuso, switik, matalino. Subtly, adv. [sábtli] Sutilmente. May katusuhan. Subtract, v. [sabtráct] Sustraer, restar. Awasín, bawasin. Subtraction, n. [sabtráccion] Sustraccion. Bawas. Suburb, n. [sáborb] Suburbio, arrabal. Nayon, pook, arabal. Suburban, adj. [sabárban] Suburbano. Nauukol sa nayon ó pook. Subversion, n. [sabvércion] Suversion, ruina, destruccion. Pagkasirà, pagkaguhô, pagkawasak. Subvert, v. [sabvért] Subvertir, destruir. Sirain, iguhô, iwasak. Subway, n. [sábwe] Tunel. Daan sa ilalim ng lupà. Succeed, v. [sacsíd] Conseguir, lograr. Magawì, kamtín, ipanalo, ipagwagí, ipagtagumpay, ipagkapalad. Success, n. [sacsés] Éxito; salida. Pagkakapalad, pagwawagí, pananagumpay. Successful, adj. [sacsésful] Próspero, dichoso, feliz. Mapalad, maginghawa. Succession, n. [sacsécion] Sucesión; linaje, descendencia; herencia. Paghalili; lahì, angkan; mana. Successive, adj. [sacsésiv] Sucesivo. Sunodsunod, halíhalilí. Successor, n. [sacsésor] Sucesor; heredero. Kahalili, tagapagmana. Succinct, adj. [sacsínt] Sucinto, breve. Maiklî, maiksî. Succor, n. [sáccor] Socorro, ayuda, asistencia, favor. Saklolo, abuloy, tulong, damay. Succor, v. [sáccor] Socorrer, ayudar. Sumaklolo, umabuloy, tumulong, dumamay. Succulence, n. [súkiulens] Jugosidad. Katas, gatâ, sustansia. Succulency = succulence. Succulent, adj. [súkiulent] Suculento, jugoso. Makatas, makatâ, masustansia. Succumb, v. [sékæmb] Sucumbir. Sumukò, patalo, padaig. Such, pron. [sach] Tal, semejante. Gayon, ganyan. Suck, v. [sæc] Chupar, mamar. Umitit, sumuso. Suckle, v. [sacl] Amamantar, dar de mamar. Magpasuso; pasusuhin. Suckling, n. [sákling] Mamanton. Pásusuhin. Suction, n. [sácciæn] Succión. Pag-itit. Sudden, adj. [sadn] Repentino, pronto. Biglâ, madalî. Suddenly, adv. [sádenli] Repentinamente. Biglâ, kaginsaginsá, kadingatdingat. Suddenness, n. [sádennes] Precipitación. Dalî, kabiglaan. Sudorific, adj. & n. [siudorífic] Sudorífico. Pangpapawis, nakapagpápawis. Suds, n. [soedz] Lejía de agua y jabon. Lihiyá. Sue, v. [siu] Poner por justicia, demandar á alguno en justicia. Lumagay sa matwid, magsakdal. Suet, n. [siú-et] Sebo. Sebo. Suety, adj. [siú-eti] Seboso. Masebo, matabâ. Suffer, v. [sáfer] Sufrir, padecer. Magtiis, magbatá. Sufferable, adj. [sáferebl] Sufrible. Nakatitiis, nakapagbabatá. Sufferance, n. [sáferans] Sufrimiento, paciencia, pena, dolor. Pagtitiis, pagbabatá, sákit, hirap. Suffering, n. [sáfering] Pena, dolor, trabajo. Sákit, hirap, hapis. Suffice, v. [séfais] Bastar; satisfacer. Magkasya, sumapat, humusto. Sufficiency, n. [safíciensi] Suficiencia; capacidad. Kasiyahán, kasapatán, kahustuhan; kakayahan. Sufficient, adj. [safícient] Suficiente; apto, idóneo. Kasya, sapát, husto, may kaya. Suffocate, v. [séfoket] Sufocar, ahogar. Uminis; inisín. Suffocation, n. [sefokécion] Sufocacion, ahogo. Pag-inís. Suffrage, n. [sáfredch] Sufragio, voto. Matwid sa pagboto, boto, pagtungkol. Suffuse, v. [sefiúz] Difundir; derramar, verter. Palaganapin, ikalat, isabog; ibuhos, iligwak. Suffusion, n. [sefiúsion] Sufusión. Bilíg, kulabà. Sugar, n. [siúgar] Azúcar. Asukal. Sugar, v. [siúgar] Azucarar. Asukalan, lagyan ng asukal. Sugar-cane, n. [siúgar-ken] Caña de azúcar. Tubó. Sugar-mill, n. [siúgar-mil] Molino de azúcar. Kabyawan. Sugary, adj. [siúgueri] Azucarado. Maasukal. Suggest, v. [sadchést] Sugerir. Magmungkahì. Suggestion, n. [sadchéschon] Sugestion. Mungkahì, palagay. Suicide, n. [siú-isaid] Suicidio; suicida. Pagbibigtí, pagpapatiwakal; ang nagbigtî ó nagpatiwakal. Suit, n. [siút] Juego, vestido. Hwego, terno, kasuutan. Suit, v. [siút] Adaptar, ajustarse, acomodarse. Ibagay, ilapat, iakmâ, iayon. Suitable, adj. [siútabl] Conforme, conveniente. Bagay, lapat, marapat. Suit, n. [suit] Cortejo, comitiva. Kapisanan, mga panauhin. Suitor, n. [suítor] Pretendiente, amante. Mangliligaw. Sulkiness, n. [sálkines] Mal humor. Samâ ng ulo, init ng ulo, samâ ng loob. Sulky, adj. [sélki] Regañon, malcontento. Magagalitín, mainit ang ulo. Sullen, adj. [sálen] Malcontento, intratable. Masamâ ang loob, sumpúngin. Sully, v. [sáli] Manchar, ensuciar. Manchahán, dungisan. Sulphur, n. [sélfoer] Azufre. Asupré. Sultan, n. [séltan] Sultan. Sultán. Sultry, adj. [séltri] Caluroso; sofocante. Mainit, alinsangan; nakaiinis. Sum, n. [sam] Suma, resumen. Kabuoan, katúusan. Sum, v. [sam] Sumar, recopilar. Tuusín, papagsamasamahin. Summary, adj. & n. [sámari] Sumario, compendioso. Maiklî, maiksî. Summer, n. [sámer] Verano, estío. Tag-inít, tag-araw, panahon ng pagkakatuyô. Summit, n. [sémit] Ápice, punta, cima. Dulo, tuktok, taluktok. Summon, v. [sámon] Citar, notificar. Tawagin, paharapín. Summons, n. [sámons] Citacion, aviso. Tawag, pagpapaharap. Sumptuous, adj. [sémchiues] Suntuoso, espléndido. Marilag, mainam, dakilà. Sun, n. [san] Sol. Araw. Sun beam, n. [sám bim] Rayo del sol. Sikat ó sinag ng araw. Sunday, n. [sande] Domingo. Linggó. Sunder, v. [sánder] Separar, dividir. Ihiwalay, hatiin. Sundry, adj. [sándri] Varios; muchos. Ilan; marami. Sunflower, n. [sanfláuar] Girasol. Mirasól. Sunny, adj. [sáni] Brillante como el sol. Masikat, parang araw. Sunrise, n. [sánrais] Salida del sol. Pagsikat ng araw. Sunrising = Sunrise. Sunset, n. [sánset] Puesta del sol. Paglubog ng araw. Sunshine, n. [sánsiain] Claridad del sol. Sikat ó liwanag ng araw. Sup, n. [sap] Sorbo. Higop. Sup, v. [sap] Sorber, beber á sorbos. Humigop. Superabound, v. [siuperabáund] Superabundar. Umapaw, lumabis. Superabundance, n. [siuperabándans] Superabundancia. Apaw, paglabis. Superabundant, adj. [siuperabándant] Superabundante. Apáw, labis. Superb, adj. [siupérb] Soberbio, grande, espléndido. Palalò, dakilà, marilag. Superficial, adj. [siuperfícial] Superficial. Mababaw. Superfluity, n. [siuperfliúiti] Superfluidad. Kalabisan, pagkakalalò. Superfluous, adj. [siupérfliues] Superfluo. Malabis. Superintend, v. [siuperinténd] Inspeccionar, vigilar. Sumiyasat, mamahalà. Superintendent, n. [siuperinténdent] Superintendente. Tagapamahalà. Superior, adj. [siupírior] Superior. Káinam-inaman, kátaastaasan. Superior, n. [siupírior] Superior. Punò. Superiority, n. [siupirióriti] Superioridad. Kainaman, kataasan. Superlative, adj. [siupérlativ] Superlativo. Kátaastaasan. Supernatural, adj. [siupernácheral] Sobrenatural. Higít sa kaya ng tao. Supersede, v. [siupersíd] Sobreseer, deferir; invalidar. Ipagpaliban; pawalán ng halagá. Superstition, n. [siuperstícion] Supersticion. Pámahiin. Superstitious, adj. [siuperstícioes] Supersticioso. Mapamahiin. Supervise, v. [siuperváis] Inspeccionar, revistar. Mamahalà, sumiyasat. Supervision, n. [siupervísion] Superintendencia. Pamamahalà. Supervisor, n. [siuperváisor] Inspector. Tagasiyasat. Supine, adj. [siupáin] Supino; negligente. Tihayâ; tamad. Supper, n. [sáper] Cena. Hapunan. Supple, adj. [sapl] Flexible, manejable. Sunudsunuran, malambot. Supplement, n. [sápliment] Suplimento. Dagdag, dugtong. Supplicate, v. [sápliket] Suplicar. Mamanhík. Supplication, n. [saplikécion] Súplica, suplicacion. Pamanhik, luhog. Supply, v. [saplái] Suplir, surtir. Magbigay ó maghulog ng kailangan. Support, n. [sapórt] Sosten, apoyo, proteccion. Alalay, tulong, abuloy. Support, v. [sapórt] Sostener, mantener; asistir, amparar. Alalayan, lingapin, kalingain, tulungan, damayan, ampunin. Suppose, v. [supós] Suponer. Maghinalà, magsapantahà; ipagpalagay. Supposition, n. [suposícion] Suposicion. Hinalà, sapantahà; palagay. Suppress, v. [saprés] Suprimir, detener. Ipatigil, pigilin, ipahintô. Suppression, n. [saprécion] Supresion. Pagpapatigil, pagpapahintô. Suppurate, v. [sépiuret] Supurar, echar pus ó materia. Magnanà, magnaknak. Suppuration, n. [sepiurécion] Supuracion. Pagnananà, pagnanaknak. Supremacy, n. [siuprémasi] Supremacía. Kataasan ng kapangyarihan. Supreme, adj. [siuprím] Supremo. Kátaastaasan, pinakamataas. Surcharge, v. [sarchárdch] Sobrecargar. Magpasan ng labis, maglulan ng mabigat. Surcingle, n. [sarsíngl] Sobrecincha. Panalì sa siyá. Sure, adj. [siur] Seguro, cierto. Tunay, totoo, siguro, maaasahan. Sureness, n. [siúrnes] Certeza, seguridad. Katunayan, katotohanan, katiwasayan. Surety, n. [siúrti] Seguridad; fiador. Katibayan; ang nananagot. Surf, n. [soerf] Marea. Pag iinalón, daluyon. Surface, n. [sárfes] Superficie. Balat, ibabaw, mukhâ. Surfeit, n. [sérfit] Ahito; empacho. Hilab, kabundatan; sukal ng sikmurà. Surfeit, v. [sérfit] Hartar, ahitar. Mabundat, hilaban. Surge, n. [sardch] Ola, onda. Alon. Surge, v. [sardch] Embravecerse el mar. Umalon, mag-inalón. Surgeon, n. [sérdchen] Cirujano. Mangbubusbos, manggagamot ng sugat, ibp. Surgery, n. [sérdcheri] Cirugía. Pagbusbós, panggagamot. Surgical, adj. [sérdchical] Quirúrgico. Nauukol sa busbós, nauukol sa panggagamot. Surliness, n. [sérlines] Mal humor. Sumpóng, samâ ng loob, sungít, init ng ulo. Surly, adj. [sérli] Áspero de genio. Masungít, sumpúngin. Surmise, n. [sarmáis] Sospecha, aprehensión falsa. Hinalà, sapantahà. Surmise, v. [sarmáis] Sospechar, suponer. Maghinalà, magsapantahà. Surmount, v. [sérmaunt] Sobrepujar. Dumaig, sumupil. Surname, n. [sérnem] Apellido, sobrenombre. Apelyido, pamagat, palayaw. Surname, v. [sérnem] Apellidar. Pamagatan. Surpass, v. [sarpás] Sobresalir, sobrepujar, exceder, aventajar. Lamalò, umapaw, lumabis, humigit, lumampás. Surplice, n. [sérplis] Sobrepelliz. Ábitong maputî ng parè. Surplus, n. [sérploes] Sobrante. Labis, sobra, tirá. Surprise, n. [sarpráis] Sorpresa. Gulat, gitlá, hangà, manghâ. Surprise, v. [sarpráis] Sorprender. Gumulat, gumitlá, magpamanghâ. Surrender, n. [sarrénder] Rendición. Pagsukò. Surrender, v. [sarrénder] Rendir, rendirse. Sumukò, patalo, padaig. Surreptitious, adj. [sareptícioes] Subrepticio. Palihím na pagyarì. Surrogate, v. [sérroguet] Subrogar. Palitan, halinhan. Surrogation, n. [særroguécion] Subrogacion. Pagpapalít, paghahalile. Surround, v. [saráund] Circundar, rodear. Ligirin; lumiguid. Survey, n. [sarvé] Deslinde de tierras. Pagsukat ng lupà. Survey, v. [sarvé] Medir las tierras, heredades etc.. Manukat ng lupà. Surveyor, n. [sarvéyor] Agrimensor. Mánunukat ng lupà. Survive, v. [sarváiv] Sobrevivir. Mátirang mabuhay. Susceptible, adj. [suséptibl] Susceptible. Mahilig, madaling ikiling. Suspect, adj. [saspéct] Sospechoso. Mapaghihinalaan, masasapantahà. Suspect, n. [saspéct] Sospecha. Hinalà, sapantahà. Suspect, v. [saspéct] Sospechar. Maghinalà, magsapantahà. Suspend, v. [saspénd] Suspender, colgar; privar, detener. Ibitin, isampay, isabit; sansalain, bawáan. Suspense, n. [saspéns] Suspension; detencion, interrupcion. Pagbibitin, pagsasabit; pagpigil. Suspension, n. [saspéncion] Suspension. Pagpapatigil. Suspensory, adj. [saspénsori] Suspensorio. Sabitán. Suspicion, n. [saspícion] Sospecha, recelo; conjetura. Hinalà, sapantahà, bintang. Suspicious, adj. [saspícioes] Suspicaz, receloso; sospechoso. Palabintangin, mapaghinalà, mapagsapantahà. Sustain, n. [sastén] Sostener, mantener alguna cosa, apoyar. Alalayan, suhayan, kandiliin. Sustenance, n. [sástinans] Sostenimiento. Alalay, suhay, kandilì. Swab, n. [suob] Lampazo. Isís, pang-isís. Swab, v. [suob] Lampacear. Isisín; mag-isís. Swaddle, v. [suódl] Fajar. Bigkisin, talian. Swaddling-clothes, n. [suódling-cloz] Pañales. Lampín. Swagger, v. [suáguer] Baladronear; alabarse de valiente. Maghambog, magmatapang. Swaggerer, n. [suáguerer] Fanfarrón, baladron. Hambog. Swain, n. [suén] Zagal, joven aldeano. Binatà ó bagong taong bukid. Swallow, n. [suálo] Golondrina; voracidad. Langaylangayan; sakmál. Swallow, v. [suálo] Tragar, engullir. Sumakmal, lumamon. Swamp, n. [suomp] Pantano. Latian, lablab, labon, kominoy. Swampy, adj. [suompi] Pantanoso. Malati, malabon. Swap, v. [swap] Cambiar, cambalachear. Pumalit, magpalít. Sward, w. [suord] La haz ó superficie de la tierra. Balat ó ibabaw ng lupà. Swarm, n. [sworm] Enjambre, gentío; hormiguero. Bunton ó kapal ng tao; lunggâ ng langgam. Swarm, v. [sworm] Enjambrar. Magbunton (ang tao). Swarthiness, n. [swórzines] Tez morena. Kakuyomanggihan. Swarthy, adj. [swórzi] Altezado. Kuyomanggí. Swash, n. [swosh] Fanfarronada. Kahambugán. Sway, n. [swé] Vibracion, sacudimiento, estremecimiento; poder, imperio. Liguygoy, wagayway, pagpag, liglig; kapanyarihan. Sway, v. [swé] Blandir ó vibrar alguna cosa en el aire; dominar. Magwagayway; magpunò. Swear, v. [swér] Jurar, ratificar con juramento. Sumumpâ, manumpâ. Sweat, n. [swét] Sudor. Pawis. Sweat, v. [swét] Sudar. Magpawis. Sweaty, adj. [swéti] Sudoso, sudado. Pawisán, mapawis. Sweep, n. [swíp] Barredura. Pagwawalís, pagpalís. Sweep, v. [swíp] Barrer. Magwalís, pumalís. Sweeping, n. [swíping] Barreduras. Pinagwalisán, pinagpalisán. Sweet, adj. [swít] Dulce; grato, hermoso. Matamis; kaayaaya, kalugodlugod; magandá. Sweet, n. [swít] Dulzura. Tamis, matamis. Sweeten, v. [swítn] Endulzar. Tamisán. Sweetheart, n. [swit-jart] Querida, novia. Sintá, nobya. Sweetish, adj. [swítish] Algo dulce. Matamístamís. Sweetness, n. [swítnes] Dulzura. Tamís, katamisán. Swell, n. [swél] Hinchazon, bulto. Pamamagâ, alsá, uslî, umbok. Swell, v. [swél] Hincharse, hinchar, inflar, abultar. Mamagâ, umalsá, umuslî, umumbok. Swelling, n. [swéling] Hinchazon, tumor. Pamamagâ, bukol. Swelter, v. [swélter] Ahogarse de calor. Mainis sa init. Swerve, v. [swérb] Vagar; desviarse. Lumaboy, gumalà; mápilihis, maligaw. Swift, adj. [swíft] Veloz, ligero, rápido. Matulin, maliksí, madalî. Swiftly, adv. [swíftli] Velozmente. May katulinan. Swiftness, n. [swíftnes] Velocidad, celeridad. Tulin, dalî, liksí. Swill, n. [swíl] Bazofia. Labis sa pagkain na patapón; kaning-baboy. Swill, v. [swíl] Beber con exceso, emborrachar. Maglasíng, maglangô. Swim, v. [swím] Nadar. Lumangoy. Swindle, v. [swíndl] Petardear, trampear. Manubà, manekas. Swindler, n. [swíndler] Trampista, petardista. Mánunubà, mánenekas. Swine, n. [swáin] Marrano, puerco. Baboy. Swine herd, n. [swáin jerd] Porquero. Tagapag-alagà ng baboy. Swing, n. [swíng] Balanceo, columpio. Indayon, ugoy, ugog, ugâ, pagtitimbangan ng mga batà, pagduduyan. Swing, v. [swíng] Balancear; columpiarse. Umindayon, umugoy, umugog; ugain; magduyan. Swinging, adj. [swínging] Grande, monstruoso. Malaki. Swinish, adj. [swínish] Porcuno, sucio. Parang baboy, marumi. Swiss, adj. & n. [swís] Suizo. Taga Swisa ó nauukol sa Swisa. Switch, v. [swítch] Varear; sacudir á uno el polvo. Paspasan; pagpagín. Swoon, n. [swun] Desmayo. Hilo. Swoon, v. [swun] Desmayarse. Mahilo, mawalan ng diwâ. Swoop, n. [swúp] El acto de echarse una ave de rapiña sobre su presa. Pagdagit, pangdadagit. Swoop, v. [swúp] Coger, agarrar. Dagitin, sunggaban, hawakan. Sword, n. [sord] Espada. Tabák. Sword fish, n. [sórdfish] Pez espada. Isdang espada. Syllable, n. [sílabl] Sílaba. Pantig ng salitâ, sílaba. Symbol, n. [símbl] Símbolo, figura emblemática. Sagisag, tandâ na pinagkakakilanlan. Symbolic(al), adj. [simbólic(al)] Simbólico. Nauukol sa sagisag. Symbolize, v. [símbolaiz] Simbolizar. Sagisagin. Symmetrical, adj. [simétrical] Simétrico. Maayos. Symmetry, n. [símetri] Simetría. Pagkakaayon-ayon. Sympathetic, adj. [simpazétic] Simpático. Magaan ang dugô, maawain, madamayín. Sympathize, v. [símpazais] Simpatizar, compadecer. Makidamdam, makidamay, mahabag. Sympathy, n. [símpazi] Simpatía. Gaan ng dugô, ganyak ng kalooban. Symptom, n. [símtom] Síntoma. Síntomas, tandâ. Synagogue, n. [sínagog] Sinagoga. Sinagoga, simbahang hudyó. Synod, n. [sínod] Sínodo. Kapulungan ng mga obispo. Synonym, n. [sínonim] Sinónimo. Kasingkahulugan. Synopsis, n. [sinópsis] Sinopsis, sumario. Kabuoan. Syringe, n. [sírindch] Jeringa, lavativa. Labatiba, panumpit ng tubig. Syringe, v. [sírindch] Jeringar. Labatibahin. Syrup, n. [sírap] Jarabe. Harabe, pulot. System, n. [sístem] Sistema. Ayos, sistema, husay. Systematic, adj. [sistemátic] Sistemático. Maayos, máhusay. Systematize, v. [sístemataiz] Reducir á sistema. Isaayos, lagyan ng ayos. T T, [ti] T (te). T (ta). Tabby, n. [tábi] Tabí, especie de tela de seda. Isang urì ng sutlâ. Tabernacle, n. [tábernecl] Tabernáculo. Tabernákulo, balag. Table, n. [tébl] Tabla, mesa. Tablá, dulang, mesa. Table, v. [tébl] Poner sobra la mesa. Ilagay sa mesa. Table-cloth, n. [tébl-cloz] Mantel. Mantél. Tablet, n. [téblet] Tableta, una tabla ó plancha grabada ó pintada. Tableta, tablá na may lilók ó pintá. Taboo, v. [tabú] Interdecir. Magbawal. Tabular, adj. [tábiular] Reducido á índices; cuadrado. Náuuwî sa tálaan; parisukát. Tacit, adj. [tásit] Tácito. Tahimik, walang imík. Taciturn, n. [tásitarn] Taciturno. Tahimik, walang, imík. Taciturnity, n. [tasitérniti] Taciturnidad. Pagkawalang imík. Tack, n. [tac] Tachuela. Pakong espilé. Tackle, n. [takl] Dardo, flecha; todo género de instrumento, aparejos ó avios. Palasô, panà; mga kasangkapan ó kagamitán. Tact, n. [tact] Tacto, sensacion. Pakiramdam, damdam. Tactic, adj. [táctic] Lo que pertenece á la táctica militar ó naval. Nauukol sa pamamaraan ng kawal. Tactics, n. [táctics] Táctica. Pamamahalà ng kawal. Tadpole, n. [tádpol] Ranilla, sapillo. Munting palakâ. Taffeta, n. [táfeta] Tafetan liso. Sutlang makingtab. Taffety = Taffeta. Tag, n. [tag] Herrete. Papel na sulatan ng pangalan na itinatalì sa sako de byahe ó maleta, ibp; metal na pangtutop. Tag, tag [v.] Herretear. Magtutop ng metal. Tail, n. [tel] Cola, rabo. Buntót. Tailor, n. [télor] Sastre. Sastré; mángyayano, mánanahì ng damít. Taint, n. [tænt] Mácula, mancha. Dungis, mancha. Taint, v. [tænt] Manchar, ensuciar. Mámanchahan, mádumhan. Take, v. [tec] Tomar, coger. Kumuha, dumampot, sumunggab. Tale, n. [teíl] Cuento, fábula. Kwento, kathang salaysay. Talebearer, n. [télbirer] Soplón. Mánunumbong, palasumbong. Talent, n. [tálent] Talento, capacidad. Katalásan ng isip, katalinuan, katusuhan; kakayahan, karunungan. Talented, adj. [talénted] Talentoso. Matalinò, matalas ang isip. Talisman, n. [tálisman] Talisman. Talismán. Talk, n. [tok] Plática, habla, charla. Sálitaan, pag-uúsapan, satsatan. Talk, v. [tok] Conversar, hablar. Mag-usap, makipag-usap. Talkative, adj. [tócativ] Locuáz. Masalitâ. Tall, adj. [tol] Alto, elevado. Mataas, matayog. Tallow, n. [tálo] Sebo. Sebo. Tallow, v. [tálo] Ensebar. Pahiran ng sebo. Tally, v. [táli] Ajustar, acomodar. Ilapat, ibagay. Talon, n. [tálon] Garra. Kukong pangalmot [ng hayop]. Tamable, adj. [témabl] Domable, domesticable. Napaaamò. Tamarind, n. [támarind] Tamarindo. Bunga ng sampalok. Tambac, n. [támbac] Tumbaga. Tumbaga. Tambourine, n. [tamburín] Tamboril. Pandereta. Tame, adj. [tem] Amansado, domesticado. Maamò, ámak. Tame, v. [tem] Domar, amansar, domesticar. Paamuin, amákin. Tamper, v. [támper] Jaropearse. Makialam, makiguló. Tan, n. [tan] Casca. Balat. Tan, v. [tan] Curtir, zurrar. Gawíng katad ang balat ng hayop. Tandem, adv. [tándem] Á lo largo. Sa hinabahabà. Tangent, adj. [tándchent] Tangente. Nahihipò, nadadama. Tangible, adj. [tándchibl] Tangible. Nahihipò. Tangle, n. [tángl] Trenza de pelo. Tirintas [ng buhok]. Tank, n. [tank] Cisterna, aljibe. Tangké, balón. Tankard, n. [tánkard] Cántaro con tapadera. Bangang may tungtong. Tanner, n. [táner] Curtidor. Mangkakatad. Tantalize, v. [tántalaiz] Atormentar á alguno mostrándole placeres que no puede alcanzar. Patakaw-takawín, takawin, tuksuhín, panabikin. Tantamount, adj. [tántamaunt] Equivalente. Kasíng halagá. Tantivy, adv. [tantívi] Á rienda suelta. Ng boong tulín, pakarimot. Tap, n. [tap] Palmada suave, toque ligero. Tapík. Tap, v. [tap] Tocar ligeramente; barrenar, horadar; extraer el jugo de un arbol. Tumapík; bumutas; tubaan. Tape, n. [tep] Cinta, galon. Sintás, galón. Taper, n. [téper] Cirio. Kandilang malakí. Taper, v. [téper] Rematar en punta. Duluhan, upusín. Tapestry, n. [tápestri] Tapiz, tapicería. Mga panabing na kayo. Tapeworm, n. [tépworm] Ténia, especie de lombriz. Bulating mahabà. Tar, n. [tar] Alquitran, embrea; marinero. Alkitran; magdadagát. Tar, v. [tar] Embrear, alquitranar. Pahiran ng alkitrán. Tardily, adv. [tárdili] Lentamente. Untíuntî, utay-utay. Tardiness, n. [tárdines] Lentitud, tardanza. Bagal, kupad, kuyad; tagal, lwat, laon. Tardy, adj. [tárdi] Tardío, tardo, lento. Tanghalì, mabagal, makupad, makuyad. Tare, n. [ter] Zizaña. Damong pansirà, damong hímatmatin. Target, n. [tárguet] Rodela. Kalasag. Tariff, n. [tárif] Tarifa. Taripa, bwis. Tarlatan, n. [tárlatan] Tarlatana. Kayong manipís. Tarn, n. [tarn] Pantano. Kominoy, labón. Tarnish, v. [tárnish] Deslustrar [se]. Mangulimlim; kumupas. Tarpaulin, n. [tarpólin] El cáñamo embreado. Kayong pangtapete ó pangtrapal. Tarry, v. [tári] Tardar, pararse. Magtagal, maglwat; tumigil, humintô. Tart, n. [tart] Tarta. Kakaníng hopyà. Tartar, n. [tártær] Tártaro. Taga Tartarya. Tartness, n. [tártnes] Agrura, acedia. Asim, askád. Task, n. [task] Tarea; ocupacion, empleo. Gáwain, trabaho, tungkulin. Taste, n. [test] Gusto, sabor, paladeo. Lasa, lasap, namnam, linamnam. Taste, v. [test] Gustar, saborear, probar. Lasahin, lasapín, namnamin. Tasteful, adj. [téstful] Sabroso. Masarap. Tasteless, adj. [téstles] Insípido, sin sabor. Matabang, walang lasa. Tasty, adj. [tésti] Hecho ó expresado con gusto. Malasa, malinamnám, masaráp. Tatter, n. [táter] Andrajo, arrapiezo. Basahan, pamunas. Tatterdemalion, n. [taterdimálion] Pobre andrajoso. Limahíd. Tattle, n. [tátl] Charlar, charlatanería. Satsat ng salitâ. Tattle, v. [tátl] Charlar, parlotear. Makipagsatsatan ng salitaan. Tattoo, n. [tatú] Pintura del cuerpo. Pintá ó tandâ sa katawan. Tattoo, v. [tatú] Pintarse el cutis con figuras. Magpintá ó magmarka sa kutis ng katawan. Taunt, n. [tant] Mofa, burla, escarnio. Tuyâ, uyam, lait. Taunt, v. [tant] Mofar, burlar, ridiculizar. Tumuyâ, umuyam, lumait. Taut, adj. [tot] Tieso. Banát, unat. Tavern, n. [távern] Fonda; taberna. Bahay pánuluyan; tindahan ng alak. Taw, v. [to] Ablandar pieles. Magpalambot ng katad. Tawdry, adj. [tódri] Vistoso, reluciente. Tánawin, maningning. Tawny, adj. [tóni] Moreno. Kuyomanggí. Tax, n. [tacs] Impuesto, tributo. Bwis, singíl, atang. Tax, v. [tacs] Imponer tributos. Mag-atang ng bwis. Taxable, adj. [tácsabl] Sujeto á impuestos. Dapat ibwís. Taxation, n. [tacsécion] Imposicion de impuestos. Atang na bwis. Tea, n. [ti] Te. Chaa. Teach, v. [tich] Enseñar, instruir, dar lecciones. Magturò, umaral. Teacher, n. [tícher] Maestro, preceptor, enseñador. Guró, tagaaral, tagapagturò, maestro. Teaching, n. [tíching] Enseñanza. Pagtuturò. Team, n. [tim] Tiro de caballos. Pareha ng kabayo. Tear, n. [tir] Lágrima. Luhà. Tear, v. [tir] Despedazar, desgarrar. Pahakin, punitin, pilasin. Tearful, adj. [tírful] Lagrimoso, lloroso. Luhâan, luhâluhaan. Tearless, adj. [tírles] Sin lágrimas. Walang luhà. Tease, v. [tis] Embromar. Manuksó. Teat, n. [tit] Teta, ubre. Súso. Techiness, n. [téchines] Petulancia. Kabastusan. Technical, adj. [técnical] Técnico. Matalinò, bihasá, sanáy. Techy, adj. [téchi] Cosquilloso; caprichoso. Makílitiin; súmpungin. Tedious, adj. [tídioes] Tedioso, fastidioso, pesado. Mayamutin, nakayayamot, maínipin. Tediousness, n. [tídioesnes] Tedio, fastidio. Yamót, iníp. Teem, v. [tim] Parir; salir á luz. Manganak; maghayag, maglitaw. Teens, n. [tins] Años desde 13 hasta 20 años. Gulang na mulâ sa ika 13 hanggang ika 20 taón. Teeth, n. [tiz] Dientes. Mga ngipin. Teeth, v. [tiz] Endentecer; dentar. Tubuan ng ngipin; magpalagay ng ngipin. Teetotal, adj. [títotal] Moderado, sobrio. Mahinahon. Teetotaller, n. [títotaler] Hombre moderado. Taong mahinahon. Tegument, n. [tíguiument] Tegumento, la membrana exterior, que cubre el cuerpo del hombre. Balat ng katawan ng tao. Telegram, n. [télegram] Telegrama. Telégrama, hatidkawad. Telegraph, n. [télegraf] Telégrafo. Telégrama, telégrapo. Telegraphy, n. [telégrafi] Telegrafía. Karunungan tungkol sa telégrama. Telephone, n. [télefon] Teléfono. Telépono. Telephone, v. [télefon] Telefonear. Tumelépano. Telescope, n. [téliscop] Telescopio. Largabista, teleskopyo, pangtanaw sa malayò. Tell, v. [tel] Informar, referir, decir. Magsaysay, magpahayag, magsabi. Teller, n. [téler] Relator. Ang nagsasalaysay, ang nagbabalità. Telltale, n. [teltel] Soplon, chismoso. Mapagsumbong, mapaghatid humapit. Temerity, n. [timériti] Temeridad. Kapangahasan, kapusukan, pusok. Temper, n. [témper] Temple, temperamento. Timplá, lagay [ng panahon]. Temper, v. [témper] Templar, atemperar. Timplahím. Temperament, n. [témperament] Temperamento. Lagay, kalagayan. Temperance, n. [témperans] Templanza, moderacion. Katamtaman, kainaman, hinahon, katatagan. Temperate, adj. [témperet] Templado, moderado, sobrio. Katamtaman, mahinahon, katatagán. Temperature, n. [témperechur] Temperatura. Lagay ng panahon. Tempest, n. [témpest] Tempestad, temporal. Bagyó, sigwa, unós. Tempestuous, adj. [tempéschiuoes] Tempestuoso. Masigwa, maunos. Temple, n. [témpl] Templo; sien ó la parte de la cabeza que está al extremo de las cejas. Templo, simbahan; pilipisan, sentido. Temporal, adj. [témporal] Temporal, pasajero. Samantalà, saglít, lumilipas. Temporary, n. [témporari] Temporario. Pangsamantalà. Temporize, v. [témporiz] Temporizar. Isunod sa panahon. Tempt, v. [tempt] Tentar; provocar. Manuksó, tumuksó, mungkahiin. Temptation, n. [temtécion] Tentacion. Tuksó. Ten, adj. [ten] Diez. Sangpû, pû. Tenacious, adj. [tinécioes] Tenaz, porfiado. Matigas ang ulo, mahigpit, maganit. Tenacity, n. [tinásiti] Tenacidad. Katigasan, katigasan ng ulo, kaganitán. Tenancy, n. [ténansi] Tenencia. Pangungupahan sa isang bahay. Tenant, n. [ténant] Arrendador, inquilino. Ang nangungupahan, ang bumubwis. Tenant, v. [ténant] Arrendar. Mangupahan. Tenantry, n. [ténantri] Arriendo; el conjunto de los arrendatarios de un hacendado. Pangungupahan, katipunan ng mga taong nangungupahan sa isang pook. Tend, v. [tend] Guardar, velar, atender; tener tendencia. Ingatan, bantayán; pangasiwaan; magtaglay ng gayong layon. Tendency, n. [téndensi] Tendencia. Layon, panukalà, tungo. Tender, adj. [ténder] Tierno, delicado. Malambot, marupok, magiliw, maselang. Tender, n. [ténder] Oferta; propuesta. Alok, dulot; palagay. Tender, v. [ténder] Ofrecer, presentar. Ialok, iharap. Tenderness, n. [téndernes] Terneza, delicadeza. Kalambutan, karupukan, kaselangan. Tendon, n. [téndon] Tendon. Litid. Tendril, n. [téndril] Zarcillo. Isang urì ng baging. Tenement, n. [téniment] Tenencia. Pagpapaupa ng bahay. Tenet, n. [ténet] Dogma. Urì ng pananalig ó pananampalataya. Tenfold, adj. [ténfold] Décuplo. Makasangpû. Tennis, n. [ténis] Juego de raquetas. Tenis, larong hampasan ng pelota. Tenor, n. [ténor] Tenor, contenido, una de las cuatro voces de la música. Tenor, tinig na iniimpít. Tense, adj. [tens] Tieso. Unát banat. Tense, n. [tens] Tiempo [del verbo]. Panahon ng pagbabaybay ng pangwatas ó berbo. Tension, n. [ténsion] Tension, dilatacion. Unat, lawig. Tent, n. [tent] Tienda, pabellon. Dampâ, tolda de kampanya. Tent, v. [tent] Alojarse en tienda. Manirahan sa dampâ ó sa tolda de campanya. Tentative, adj. [téntativ] De ensayo, de prueba. Sinusubok, tinitikman. Tenter, n. [ténter] Especie de bastidor que se usa en las fábricas de paño. Sampayan. Tenth, adj. [tenz] Décimo. Ikasangpû. Tenthly, adv. [ténzli] En décimo lugar. Sa ikasangpû. Tepid, adj. [tépid] Tibio, templado. Malahiningá, malagamgam, timplado. Tergiversation, n. [tærjiversécion] Tergiversación. Pagbabaligtad, kabalintunaan. Term, n. [term] Término, confin; condición, estipulacion. Hanggá, hangganan; sálitaan, káyarian. Terminate, v. [términet] Terminar, acabar. Tapusin, wakasán. Termination, n. [terminécion] Terminacion, fin, conclusion. Katapusan, wakas, hanggá. Terrace, n. [térras] Terrado, azotea; terraplen.. Batalán; pilapil. Terrestrial, adj. [terréstrial] Terrestre, terreno. Nauukol sa lupà. Terrible, adj. [térribl] Terrible. Kakilakilabot. Terrier, n. [térrier] Zorrero. Asong pangaso. Terrific, adj. [térrific] Terrífico. Nakapangingilabot. Terrify, v. [térrifai] Aterrar, espantar. Magpangilabot, manindak. Territorial, adj. [terrítorial] Territorial. Nauukol sa lupà. Territory, n. [térritori] Territorio, distrito. Nayon, pook, lalawigan. Terror, n. [tér-ror] Terror, pavor. Sindak, malaking takot. Terse, adj. [ters] Terso, pulido. Malinis, maselang. Terseness, n. [térsnes] Elegancia. Inam, karikitan [sa pananalitâ]. Tertian, n. [tércian] Terciana, calentura que repite cada tercer dia. Lagnat na lumilitaw twing ikatlong araw. Test, n. [test] Prueba. Pagsubok, pagtikím. Testament, n. [téstament] Testamento. Testamento, pahimakas na bilin; bagong tipan. Testamentary, n. [testaménteri] Testamentario. Nauukol sa testamento. Testator, n. [testétor] Testador. Ang nag-iwan ng pahimakas na bilin ó ng testamento. Testify, v. [téstifai] Testificar, afirmar. Sumaksí, magpatunay, magpatotoo. Testimonial, adj. [testímonial] Testimonial. Pananaksí, ukol sa patotoo. Testimony, n. [téstimoni] Testimonio. Patotoo. Testy, adj. [tésti] Enojadizo, tétrico. Magagalitín, masungít. Tether, n. [tézer] Traba, lazo. Laláng. Text, n. [tecst] Texto. Bagay, layon, adhikâ, pinag-salitaan. Textile, adj. [técstil] Hilable. Nahahabi. Texture, n. [técstiur] Textura, tejido. Habi, tahî. Than, adv. [dzan] Que, de. Kaysa, pa. Thank, v. [zenc] Dar gracias, agradecer. Magpasalamat. Thankful, adj. [zéncful] Grato, agradecido. Marunong kumilala ng utang na loob. Thanks, n. [zencs] Gracias. Salamat. Thanksgiving, n. [zéncsgiving] Accion de gracias. Pagpapasalamat. That, pron. [dzat] Aquel, aquello. Yaon, iyan. Thatch, n. [dzatch] Techo de paja ó de nipa. Atíp, bubóng na kugon ó pawid. Thatch, v. [dzatch] Techar con paja ó nipa. Atipán ó bubungan ng kugon ó pawid. Thaw, n. [zo] Deshielo, el derritimiento de lo que está helado. Pagkatunaw, pagkalusaw. Thaw, v. [zo] Deshelarse. Matunaw, malusaw. The, art. [dzí] El, la, lo, los, las. Ang. Theatre, n. [zíater] Teatro. Dulà; dúlaan; teatro. Theatric, adj. [ziátric] Teatral. Nauukol sa dulà. Theatrical = Theatric. Thee, pron. [dzií] Té á tí. Iyo, mo. Theft, n. [zeft] Hurto. Pagnanakaw, panguumít. Their, pron. [dzer] Su, suyo. Kanila, nila. Them, pron. [dzem] Los, las, á aquellos, á aquellas, á ellos, á ellas. Sa kanila, nila. Theme, n. [zem] Tema. Súliranin, bagay. Themselves, pron. [dzemsélvs] Ellos mismos, ellas mismas. Sila rin, kanila rin, nila rin. Then, adv. [dzen] Entonces, pues. Kung gayon; sakâ, ngâ. Thence, adv. [dzens] De ahí, por eso. Mulâ rito, mulâ ngayon, sa dahilang ito. Thenceforth, adv. [dzénsforz] Desde entonces. Mulâ nga niyaon. Theocracy, n. [ziócresi] Teocracia. Pamamahalà ng mga parè. Theology, n. [ziólodchi] Teología. Karunungan tungkol sa Dyos at sa kanyang mga pasyá. Theory, n. [zíori] Teoría. Kaalaman sa pag-iisip. Therapeutic, adj. [zerapiútic] Terapeútico. Nauukol sa paggagamot. There, adv. [dzer] Allí, allá, ahí. Diyan, doon. Thereabout, adv. [dzérebaut] Por ahí, por allá. Diyan sa, doon sa. There at, adv. [dzer-at] Por eso, de eso. Dahil diyan, sa ganyan. There by, adv. [dzer-bái] Con eso, de este modo. Sa gayon, sa ganitong paraan. Therefore, adv. [dzérfor] Por esto, por eso. Kayâ, anopa't. Therefrom, adv. [dzér-from] De allí, de allá. Mulâ riyan, mulâ roon. Therein, adv. [dzerín] En este, en aquello, en eso. Sa ganyan, sa gayon. Thereinto, adv. [dzer-intú] En aquello, en eso. Sa bagay na iyan, sa ganyan. Thereof, adv. [dzeróf] De esto, de aquello. Dito sa, diyan sa. Thereon, adv. [dzerón] En eso, sobre eso. Diyan sa, sa ibabaw niyan. Thereto, adv. [dzertú] Á eso, á ello. Diyan sa, doon sa. Thereunto, adv. [dzerantú] Á eso, á ello. Diyan sa, doon sa. Thereupon, adv. [dzerapón] En consecuencia de eso. Dahilan diyan. Therewith, adv. [dzerwíz] Con eso, con aquello. Sa ganyan, sa gayon. Therewithal, adj. [dzerwizól] Á mas, ademas. Bukod sa rito, sakâ. Thermometer, n. [zermómeter] Termómetro. Termómetro, nagpapakilala ng timplá ng panahon. Thermometric, adj. [zermómetric] Termométrico. Nauukol sa termométro. Thermometrical = Thermometric. These, pron. [dziís] Estos, estas. Ang mga ito. Thesis, n. [zísis] Tésis. Súliranin. They, pron. [dzey] Ellos, ellas. Silá. Thick, adj. [zic] Espeso, denso; grueso. Malapot, masinsin, siksik, paikpik; makapal. Thicken, v. [zikn] Condensar, espesar; engrosar. Palaputin, sinsinin, paikpikin; kapalan, pakapalín. Thicket, n. [zíket] Espesura de un bosque. Kasukalan sa gubat. Thickness, n. [zíknes] Espesor, densidad. Lapot, sinsin; kapal. Thief, n. [zif] Ladron. Magnanakaw. Thieve, v. [ziv] Hurtar, robar. Magnakaw, mang-umít. Thievery, n. [zíveri] Hurto, robo. Pagnanakaw, panguumít. Thievish, adj. [zívish] Inclinado á hurtar. Mahilig sa pagnanakaw. Thigh, n. [zai] Muslo. Pigî. Thill, n. [zil] Vara de un carro. Baras ng karriton. Thimble, n. [zímbl] Dedal. Didál. Thin, adj. [zin] Delgado, flaco; claro, ralo. Manipís, payât; malagnaw. Thine, pron. [dzáin] Tuyo, tuya. Iyo, mo. Thing, n. [zing] Cosa. Bagay. Think, v. [zink] Pensar, meditar, idear; creer. Umisip, mag-isip, magwarì, umakalà. Thinness, n. [zínnes] Delgadez; raleza. Kanipisan, kapayatan; kalagnawan. Third, adj. [zerd] Tercero. Ikatló. Thirdly, adv. [zérdli] En tercer lugar. Sa ikatlo. Thirst, n. [zerst] Sed. Uhaw. Thirst, v. [zerst] Tener ó padecer sed. Mauhaw. Thirsty, adj. [zérsti] Sediento. Uhaw, nauuhaw. Thirteen, adj. [zértin] Trece. Labing tatló. Thirteenth, adj. [zértinz] Décimotercio. Ikalabing tatló. Thirtieth, adj. [zértiez] Trigésimo. Ikatatlong pû. Thirty, adj. [zérti] Treinta. Tatlong pû. This, pron. [dzis] Este, esta, esto. Ito, irí. Thistle, n. [zisl] Cardo silvestre. Dawag, tinikán. Thistly, adj. [zísli] Lleno de cardos. Matinik. Thither, adv. [dzídzer] Allá, en aquel lugar. Doon, sa dakong yaon. Thong, n. [zong] Correa. Panalì. Thorn, n. [zorn] Espino, espina. Tiník. Thorny, adj. [zórni] Espinoso. Matiník. Thorough, prep. [zoró] Por, por medio. Sa, sa pamamagitan. Thoroughly, adj. [zóroli] Enteramente, á fondo. Lubos, buong buô. Those, pron. [dzos] Aquellos, aquellas. Yaong mga, ang mga yaon. Thou, pron. [dzaw] Tú. Ikaw. Though, conj. [dzó] Aunque, sin embargo, no obstante. Bagaman, kahiman. Thought, n. [zot] Pensamiento. Pag-iisip, isipan. Thoughtful, adj. [zótful] Pensativo, meditabundo. Mapag-isíp, mapanimdimin. Thoughtless, adj. [zótles] Descuidado. Pabayâ, walang bahalà. Thousand, adj. [záusand] Mil. Libo, sanglibo. Thousandth, adj. [záusandz] Milésimo. Ikasanglibo. Thrall, n. [zrol] Esclavo; esclavitud. Alipin, busabos; pagka-alipin, pagkabusabos. Thrall, v. [zrol] Esclavizar. Umalipin, bumusabos. Thrash, v. [zrash] Trillar, batir, sacudir. Gumiik, maghampas, magpagpag. Thrasher, n. [zrásier] Trillador. Manggigiik. Thread, n. [zred] Hilo. Sinulid; hiblá. Thread, v. [zred] Enhebrar. Magsuot ng sinulid sa butas ng karayom. Threadbare, adj. [zrédber] Raido, muy usado. Gasgás, mapurol. Threat, n. [zret] Amenaza. Balà, hamon, pananakot; ambâ, yambâ. Threaten, v. [zrétn] Amenazar. Magbalà, manakot. Three, adj. [zri] Tres. Tatlo. Threefold, adj. [zrífold] Tríplice, triple. Makatatlo, tatlong beses. Threshold, n. [zrésjold] Umbral, entrada. Pasukán táyuan sa pintuan. Thrice, adv. [zráis] Tres veces. Makaitlo, makatatlo. Thrift, n. [zrift] Ganancia, utilidad. Pakinabang. Thriftless, adj. [zríftles] Pródigo. Alibughâ. Thrifty, adj. [zrífti] Frugal; económico. Masaganá; mapag-arimohonan. Thrill, v. [zril] Taladrar, horadar. Bumalibol, bumutas. Thrive, v. [zráiv] Prosperar, adelantar. Guminghawa, bumuti ang lagáy. Throat, n. [zrot] Garganta. Lalamunan. Throb, n. [zrob] Palpitacion. Kabá, kutog. Throb, v. [zrob] Palpitar. Kumabá, kumutog. Throe, n. [zro] Dolores de parto; agonía de la muerte. Paghihirap sa panganganak; paghihingalô. Throne, n. [zron] Trono. Luklukang harì. Throng, n. [zrong] Tropel de gente. Bunton ng tao. Throng, v. [zrong] Venir de tropel, amontonarse. Magbunton [ang tao], magkulumot. Throttle, n. [zrotl] Gaznate. Gulunggulungan. Throttle, v. [zrotl] Ahogar, sofocar. Sumakal, uminis. Through, prep. [zrú] Al traves, por medio de. Sa, sa boong..., sa gitnâ, sa pamamagitan ng. Throughout, adv. [zru-áut] En todas partes. Saansaan man, sa lahat ng dako. Throw, n. [zró] Tiro, golpe. Hagis, pukól, balibat, pagkabato. Throw, v. [zró] Echar, tirar, lanzar. Maghagis, magtapon, pumukol, bumalibat, bumató. Thrust, n. [zrast] Arremetida, ataque. Daluhong, lusob, sagasà. Thrust, v. [zrast] Empujar, impeler; acometer con ímpetu y violencia. Magtulak, magbudlong; dumaluhong, sumagasà. Thumb, n. [zamb] Dedo pulgar. Daliring hinlalakí. Thump, n. [zamp] Porrazo, golpe. Bugbog, suntok. Thump, v. [zamp] Aporrear, apuñetear. Bumugbog, sumuntok. Thunder, n. [zánder] Trueno. Kulog. Thunder, v. [zánder] Tronar. Kumulog. Thunderbolt, n. [zánderbolt] Rayo. Kidlat, lintík. Thursday, n. [zársde] Jueves. Hwebes. Thus, adv. [dzas] Así, de este modo. Ganito, sa ganitong paraan. Thwack, v. [zwak] Aporrear, apuñetear. Bumugbog, sumuntok. Thwart, v. [zwort] Cruzar, atravezar; impedir, contradecir. Tumawid, tumahak; humadlang, sumalangsang. Thy, pron. [dzai] Tú, tus. Iyo, mo. Thyself, pron. [dzáiself] Tí mismo. Iyo rin. Tiara, n. [tiára] Tiara. Tiara. Tick, n. [tic] Garrapata; préstamo de dinero. Hanip; pautang. Tick, v. [tic] Tomar al fiado; dar al fiado. Pautangin; magpautang. Ticket, n. [tíket] Billete. Bilyete. Tickle, v. [tikl] Hacer cosquillas. Mangilitî. Tickling, n. [tícling] Cosquillas. Kilitî. Ticklish, adj. [tíklish] Cosquilloso. Makílitiin. Tide, n. [táid] Marea; tiempo, estacion. Laki't kati ng tubig; panahon. Tide, v. [táid] Andar con la marea. Sumunod sa agos. Tidings, n. [táidings] Nuevas noticias. Mga bagong balità. Tidy, adj. [táidi] Airoso, limpio. Maselang, malinis. Tie, n. [tai] Nudo, atadura. Buhol, talibugsô, talì. Tie, v. [tai] Anudar; atar. Magbuhol; italibugsô; italì. Tier, n. [tir] Fila, hilera. Hanay, pila. Tiff, n. [tif] Bebida; disgusto. Inumín; samâ ng loob. Tiger, n. [táiguer] Tigre. Tigre. Tight, adj. [táit] Tirante, tieso. Unát, banát. Tighten, v. [táitn] Tirar, estirar. Hilahin, unatin. Tile, n. [táil] Teja. Tisà, laryó. Tile, v. [táil] Tejar. Magbubong ng tisà. Tiling, n. [táiling] Tejido. Bubungang tisà. Till, prop. [til] Hasta. Hanggang sa. Till, v. [til] Cultivar, labrar. Mag-araro, maglináng, magbungkal ng lupà. Tillable, adj. [tílabl] Labrantío. Lupang bukirín. Tillage, n. [tíledch] Labranza. Pagbubukid, paglilinang. Tiller, n. [tíler] Labrador, agricultor; caña del timon. Mangbubukid, manglilináng, ugit. Tilt, n. [tilt] Tienda, cubierta, toldo.. Habong, takip, kulandong. Tilt, v. [tilt] Entoldar. Maghabong. Timber, n. [tímber] Madera de construccion. Kahoy na panangkap sa paggawâ ng bahay. Timbrel, n. [tímbrel] Pandero. Pandereta. Time, n. [táim] Tiempo. Panahón. Time, v. [táim] Adaptar al tiempo. Iayon sa panahón. Timely, adj. [táimli] Oportuno. Mabuting pagkakataon. Timely, adv. [táimli] Con tiempo, á proposito. Nasa oras, tamà sa oras. Timid, adj. [tímid] Tímido, temeroso. Takót, dwag, matatakutín. Timidity, n. [timíditi] Timidez. Takot, katakutan. Timidness, n. [tímidnes] Timidez, miedo. Takot, katakutan. Timorous, adj. [timoroes] Temeroso, medroso. Matatakutín, takót. Tin, n. [tin] Estaño. Lata, tinggang putî. Tincture, n. [tíncchur] Tintura, tinte. Pangkulay, paninà. Tinder, n. [tínder] Yesca. Lulóg, kúsot. Tinge, v. [tindch] Tinturar, colorar; teñir. Kulayan, tinaan. Tingle, v. [tíngl] Zumbar los oidos; punzar, latir. Makapagpanting ng tenga umantak, humapdî, kumirót. Tingling, n. [tíngling] Zumbido de oidos; latido. Pagpapanting ng tenga; antak, hapdî, kirót. Tinker, n. [tínker] Latonero. Maglalatá. Tinkle, v. [tínkl] Zumbar los oidos. Magpangting ang tenga. Tinman, n. [tínman] Hojalatero. Maglalatá. Tint, n. [tint] Tinte. Tinà. Tint, v. [tint] Teñir. Tuminà. Tiny, adj. [táini] Pequeño, chico. Munting muntî. Tip, n. [tip] Punta, extremidad; gratificacion. Dulo; pabuyà. Tip, v. [tip] Cubrir la punta de una cosa con un metal; gratificar. Takpan ng anomang ang dulo ng anomang bagay; magpabuyà. Tippet, n. [típet] Palatina, adorno que usan las mujeres al cuello. Alampay, panleeg. Tipple, n. [típl] Bebida, licor. Alak. Tipple, v. [típl] Beber con exceso. Maglasíng, maglangô. Tipsy, adj. [típsi] Borracho. Lasíng, langô. Tiptoe, n. [típto] Punta del pié. Tingkayad, tiyad. Tiptop, adj. [típtap] Excelente, lo mejor. Pinakamainam, kábutibutihan. Tirade, n. [tirad] Invectiva. Tungayaw, lait. Tire, n. [táir] Tira, ó hilera; atavío, adorno. Hanay; palamutì, gayak. Tire, v. [táir] Cansar, fatigar. Pumagod, pumagal, mamagod. Tiresome, adj. [táirsam] Tedioso, molesto. Nakayayamot; nakaiinip. Tissue, n. [tísiu] Tisú. Tisú, kayo ó hénerong tila pilak ó gintô. Tit, n. [tit] Haca, caballo pequeño. Kabayong muntî. Titbit, n. [títbit] Bocado regalado. Muntíng regalo. Tithe, n. [táiz] Diezmo. Ikasangpung bahagi. Titillate, v. [títilet] Titilar. Kilitiin, makilitî. Title, n. [táitl] Título. Titik, título; pamagat. Title, v. [táitl] Titular, intitular. Bigyan ng título, pamagatan. Titter, n. [títer] Sonrisa. Ngitî, ngisi. Titter, v. [títer] Sonreirse, reir con disimulo. Ngumitî, ngumisi. Tittle, n. [títl] Vírgula, tilde. Tudlít, kudlít. Titular, adj. [títiular] Titular. Nauukol sa título. To, prep. [tu] A, al, á él, para, por. Sa, upáng. Toad, n. [tod] Sapo, escuerzo. Palakâ, kabachoy. Toast, n. [tost] Tostado. Bagay na inihaw. Toast, v. [tost] Tostar. Isalab, ihawin; ibusá, isangag. Tobacco, n. [tobáco] Tabaco. Tabako. Tobacconist, n. [tobáconist] Fabricante de tabaco. Manggagawà ng tabako; magtatabakó. To-day, adv. [tudé] Hoy. Ngayon. Toddle, v. [tódl] Trotar. Tumorote. Toe, n. [to] Dedo del pie. Dalirì ng paa. Together, adj. [tuguédzer] Juntamente. Sabaysabay, samasama. Toil, n. [tóil] Trabajo, faena; fatiga; pena. Gawâ; pagod, pagal; hirap. Toil, v. [tóil] Trabajar, fatigarse. Gumawâ, magpagod, magpagal, magpakahirap. Toilet, n. [tóilet] Tocador. Tocador, mga kasangkapang panuklay at pang-ayos ng katawan. Toilsome, adj. [tóilsam] Laborioso, penoso. Mahirap, mabigat. Token, n. [tokn] Señal, muestra, seña. Tandâ, pinakatandâ. Tolerable, adj. [tólerabl] Tolerable, sufrible. Mapalalagpas, mapararaan, mababatá, matitiis. Tolerance, n. [tólorans] Tolerancia. Pagpaparaanan. Tolerant, adj. [tólerant] Tolerante. Mapagparaan, mapagbatá. Tolerate, v. [tóleret] Tolerar. Paraanín, palagpasín, batahín. Toll, n. [tol] Peaje, portazgo; el sonido de las campanas. Upa, bayad; tunog ng batingaw ó kampanà. Toll, v. [tol] Pagar el derecho de portazgo; tañir ó tocar una campana. Umupa, magbayad; tumugtog ng batingaw ó kampanà. Toller, n. [tóler] El que toca las campanas. Tagatugtog ó tagapihit ng batingaw ó kampanà. Toll-gatherer, n. [tol-gádzerer] Partazguero. Mániningil ng kabayaran. Tomahawk, n. [tómajok] Hacha de armas de los Indios Americanos. Palataw, palakol na panglaban ng mga amerikanong itím. Tomato, n. [tomáto] Tomate. Kamates. Tomb, n. [tomb] Tumba, sepulcro. Líbingan. Tomboy, n. [tómboi] Villano; doncella pizpireta y respingona. Hámak; babaing magaslaw. Tombstone, n. [tombston] Lápida ó piedra sepulcral. Lápida ó batong panglibingan. Tome, n. [tom] Tomo, volumen. Tomo, bahagi. To-morrow, adv. [tumóro] Mañana. Búkas, kinabukasan. Ton, n. [ton] Tonelada. Tonelada. Tone, n. [ton] Tono de la voz. Tinig, tingig, tunog ng boses. Tongs, n. [tongz] Tenaza. Sipit, panipit. Tongue, n. [tong] Lengua; idioma. Dilà; wikà. Tongueless, adj. [tóngles] Mudo, sin habla. Pipi, walang dilà. Tonic, adj. [tónic] Tónico. Gamót na pangpalakas. Tonical = Tonic. To-night, adj. [tnáit] Esta noche. Ngayong gabí, mámayang gabí. Tonnage, n. [tónedch] Porte de un buque. Lulan ng sasakyan. Tonsils, n. [tónsils] Agallas. Hasang. Tonsure, n. [tónsiur] Tonsura, el primero de los grados clericales. Paggupít ng buhok; unang grado sa pagpaparè. Too, adv. [tu] Demasiado; tambien, aun. Nápaka...; man, rin, rin naman. Tool, n. [tul] Herramienta, utensillo. Kasangkapan. Tooth, n. [tuz] Diente. Ngipin, bagáng. Tooth, v. [tuz] Dentar. Magpalagay ng ngipin. Toothache, n. [túzec] Dolor de muelas. Sakít ng ngipin. Toothless, adj. [túzles] Desdentado. Walang ngipin. Toothpick, n. [túzpic] Mondadientes. Panghinuké, tuké. Toothpowder, n. [tuzpaúder] Dentrífico. Pulbos na panglinís ó pangpagalíng ng ngipin. Toothsome, adj. [túzsam] Sabroso, gustoso. Masarap, malasa. Top, n. [tap] Cima, cumbre; remate, punta. Taluktok, tugatog; dulo. Top, v. [tap] Elevarse por encima; sobrepujar, exceder. Mangibabaw; humigít, lumangpás. Topaz, n. [tópaz] Topacio. Topasyo, batong mahalagá. Toper, n. [tóper] Borrachon, bebedor. Manglalasing, mapaglangô. Topic, n. [tópic] Principio general. Súliranin; layon. Topical, adj. [tópical] Tópico. Nauukol sa súliranin. Topmost, adj. [tápmost] Lo mas alto. Kátaastaasan, pinaka mataas. Topographer, n. [topógrafer] Topógrafo. Ang nakakaalam ng lagay ng isang dako ó lalawigan. Topographical, adj. [topográfical] Topográfico. Nauukol sa kaalaman ng lagay ng isang dako. Topography, n. [topógrafi] Topografía. Kaalaman tungkol sa lagay ng isang dako. Topple, v. [tópl] Volcarse. Mátaob. Topsail, n. [tápsel] Gavia. Lagay sa itaas. Topsy-turvy, adv. [tápsi-toervi] Al reves. Baligtad. Torch, n. [torch] Antorcha. Sulô, sigsíg. Torment, n. [tórment] Tormento, pena, tortura. Pahirap, sákit, pighatì. Torment, v. [tórment] Atormentar, afligir. Pahirapan, pasákitan. Tornado, n. [tornédo] Huracán. Búhawi. Torpedo, n. [torpído] Torpedo. Torpedo, bapor na pangdigmà. Torpid, adj. [tórpid] Entorpecido. Dungô, ungás. Torpor, n. [tórpor] Entorpecimiento, pasmo. Pamamanhid, pulikat. Torpidness = torpor. Torpitude = torpor. Torrent, n. [tór-rent] Torrente, arroyo. Agos; batis, bangbang. Torrid, adj. [tór-rid] Tórrido; tostado. Mainit; sunog. Tortoise, n. [tórtoiz] Tortuga. Pagóng. Tortuous, adj. [tórtiuoes] Tortuoso, sinuoso. Palikawlikaw, pasikotsikot. Torture, n. [tórtiur] Tortura, tormento, dolor. Pahirap, pasakit, hirap. Torture, v. [tórtiur] Atormentar. Pahirapan, pasakitan. Toss, n. [tos] Sacudimiento. Paspas, Palís. Toss, v. [tos] Sacudir, agitar. Paspasin, palisín. Total, adj. [tótal] Total, entero. Lahat, buô. Totality, n. [totáliti] Totalidad. Kalahatan, kabuoan. Totally, adv. [tótali] Totalmente. Lahatlahat. Totter, v. [tóter] Tambalear, vacilar. Gumiraygiray. Touch, n. [toech] Contacto, toque. Dama, hipò, salíng, kapâ. Touch, v. [toech] Tocar, palpar. Humipò, sumalíng, kumapâ. Touching, prep. [táching] Tocante, por lo que toca á. Tungkol sa, hinggil sa. Touchy, adj. [táchi] Cosquilloso. Makílitiin. Tough, adj. [tof] Correoso; tieso. Maganít; banát. Toughen, v. [tofn] Hacerse correosa alguna cosa. Paganitín. Tour, n. [toúr] Viaje, peregrinacion. Paglalakád, paglalakbay. Tourist, n. [toúrist] Viajero. Ang naglalakbay. Tournament, n. [toúrnament] Torneo. Pagsusubukan ng kaya. Tourney = Tournament. Tow, n. [to] Estopa; remolque. Gaspang [sa habi]; hila, batak. Tow, v. [to] Remolcar. Humila, bumatak. Towage, n. [tóedch] Remolque. Hila. Toward, adj. & prep. [tóard] Cerca de, con respecto á; hácia, con, para con. Malapit, hinggil sa; sa dapit, sa gawíng. Towel, n. [táuel] Toalla. Twalya. Tower, n. [táuer] Torre. Moog, torre. Tower, v. [táuer] Remontarse, elevarse. Umilanglang; pailanglang. Town, n. [táun] Ciudad. Bayan, syudad. Toy, n. [toi] Juguete. Larúan. Toy, v. [toi] Jugar. Maglarô. Trace, n. [tres] Huella, pisada, rastro. Bakás, yapak, landas, bakat. Trace, v. [tres] Trazar, señalar el camino. Bakasín, landasin. Track, n. [trac] Vestigio, huella, pisada. Bakás, yapak. Track, v. [trac] Rastrear. Bumakás, manunton ng landas. Trackless, adj. [trácles] Lo que no presenta rastro ó vestigio de que hayan andado por encima. Walang bakás, walang landas. Tract, n. [tract] Trecho; region, comarca. Pitak ng lupà; lalawigan. Tractable, adj. [tráctabl] Tratable, afable. Marunong makiharap, magandang loob, maamò. Tractableness, n. [tráctablnes] Afabilidad, docilidad. Kagandahang loob, kaamuan. Traction, n. [tráccion] Acarreo. Batak, hila. Trade, n. [tred] Comercio, negocio. Kalakal, tindá. Trade, v. [tred] Comerciar, traficar. Mangalakal, magtindá. Trader, n. [tréder] Negociante, comerciante. Mángangalakal. Tradition, n. [tradícion] Tradicion. Alamát, sali't saling sabi. Traditional, adj. [tradícional] Tradicional. Nauukol sa alamat. Traduce, v. [tradiús] Vituperar, calumniar. Humalay, huimyâ, umalipustâ humamak. Traffic, n. [tráfic] Tráfico, mercaderías. Kalakal. Traffic, v. [tráfic] Traficar, comerciar. Mangalakal. Trafficker, n. [tráfiker] Traficante, comerciante. Mángangalakal. Tragedy, n. [trádchedi] Tragedia. Sakunâ, pangyayaring nakakikilabot. Tragic, adj. [trádchic] Trágico, fatal, funesto. Kakilakilabot, kasindaksindak. Tragical = Tragic. Trail, n. [trel] Rastro, pisada, huella. Bakas, yapak, landás. Trail, v. [trel] Rastrear. Bumakas, manunton sa landás. Train, n. [tren] Tren. Tren. Train, v. [tren] Amaestrar, enseñar, adiestrar. Turuan, sanayin, bihasahin. Training, n. [tréning] Educacion, disciplina. Turò. Trait, n. [tret] Rasgo de carácter. Likas na gawî. Traitor, n. [trétor] Traidor. Lilo, taksíl, pusóng, palamara, sukab. Traitoress, n. [trétores] Traidora. Babaing lilo, babaing taksíl. Traitorous, adj. [trétores] Pérfido, traidor. Taksíl, lilo. Trammel, n. [trámmel] Trasmallo. Bitag, panilò. Trammel, v. [trámmel] Coger. Humuli. Tramp, n. [tramp] Vagabundo. Hampas-lupà. Trample, v. [trampl] Hollar, pisotear. Tumadyak, sumikad, yumurak, tumusak. Trance, n. [trans] Extasís, enajenamiento. Pagkawalang diwà. Tranquil, adj. [tráncuil] Tranquilo, pacífico. Tahimik, payapà. Tranquility, n. [trancuíliti] Tranquilidad, reposo, calma. Katahimikan, katiwasayán, kapayapaan. Tranquilize, v. [trancuílaiz] Tranquilizar, sosegar. Patahimikin, payapain. Transact, v. [tránsact] Manejar, disponer; negociar. Mangasiwà, pumaraan; mangalakal. Transaction, n. [transáccion] Transaccion, negociacion. Pagsasagawâ, pamamalakad. Transactor, n. [transáctor] Negociador. Tagapagsagawâ, tagalakad ng layon. Transatlantic, adj. [trans-atlántic] Transatlántico. Sa ibayo ng dagat, sa kabilâ ng dagat. Transcendent, adj. [transéndent] Sobresaliente, trascendente. Litaw, tanghal, nangingibabaw. Transcribe, v. [transcráib] Trascribir, copiar. Salinin, kopyahin. Transcript, n. [tránscript] Trasunto. Salin. Transcription, n. [tránscripcion] Copia. Salin. Transfer, v. [transfér] Transferir, ceder. Ilipat, isalin sa iba. Transferable, adj. [transférabl] Transferible. Naililipat, naisasalin. Transfiguration, n. [transfiguiurécion] Transfiguracion. Pagbabagong anyô. Transfigure, v. [transfíguiur] Trasformar, mudar de figura. Magbago ng anyô. Transfix, v. [transfícs] Atravesar con una cosa puntiaguda, atravesar. Tuhugin, palagpasán. Transgress, v. [transgréss] Transgredir; violar. Sumalangsang, lumabag, dumahas. Transgression, n. [transgréssion] Transgresión. Pagsalangsang, paglabag. Transgressor, n. [transgrésor] Transgresor. Mánanalangsang. Transient, adj. [tránsient] Pasajero, momentáneo. Lumilipas, sangdalian. Transit, n. [tránsit] Tránsito. Pagdaraan, pagdaan, daan. Transition, n. [transícion] Transicion, la mudanza de un estado á otro. Pagbabago. Transitive, adj. [tránsitiv] Transitivo. Nápapalipat. Transitory, n. [tránsitori] Transitorio. Ang lumilipas. Translate, v. [translét] Traducir. Isalin, ihulog sa ibang wikà. Translation, n. [translécion] Traduccion. Pagsasalin, paghuhulog sa ibang wikà. Translator, n. [translétor] Traductor. Tagapagsalin ó tagapaghulog sa ibang wikà. Transmarine, adj. [transmarín] Trasmarino. Sa kabilâ ng dagat. Transmigrate, v. [tránsmigret] Trasmigrar. Lumipat sa ibang bayan ó lupain. Transmigration, n. [transmigrécion] Trasmigracion. Paglipat sa iba. Transmission, n. [transmícion] Trasmision. Paglipat. Transmit, v. [transmít] Transmitir. Ilipat sa iba ang anomang inaarì. Transmutation, n. [transmiutécion] Trasmutacion; conversion. Paglilipat sa iba; pagbabago. Transmute, v. [transmiút] Trasmutar. Mag-ibá, magbago. Transparency, n. [transpárensi] Trasparencia. Panganganinag. Transparent, adj. [transpárent] Trasparente. Nanganganinag. Transpiration, n. [transpirécion] Traspiracion. Singaw. Transpire, v. [transpáir] Traspirar. Sumingaw. Transplant, v. [transplánt] Trasplantar. Ilipat ang tanim. Transplantation, n. [transplantécion] Trasplantacion. Paglilipat ng taním. Transport, v. [transpórt] Trasportar. Maglipat, magbago ng lugar. Transportation, n. [transportécion] Trasportacion. Paglilipat, pagdadalá sa ibang lugar. Transpose, v. [transpóz] Trasponer. Ibago, ilipat. Transposition, n. [transposícion] Trasposicion. Pagbabago, paglilipat. Transverse, adj. [transvérs] Trasversal, trasverso. Pahaláng, pahiwas. Trap, n. [trap] Trampa, red, lazo. Laláng, hibò, silò, bitag, panghule. Trap, v. [trap] Hacer caer en la trampa ó en el lazo. Hulihin sa pamamagitan ng laláng ó silò. Trappings, n. [trápings] Jaeces, adornos. Mga palamutì. Trash, n. [trash] Desecho. Tapon, sukal. Trashy, adj. [tráshi] Despreciable, inutil. Hamak, walang kabuluhan. Travail, n. [trável] Dolores de parto. Paghihirap sa panganganak. Travel, n. [trável] Viaje. Paglalakbay. Travel, v. [trável] Viajar. Maglakbay. Traveller, n. [tráveler] Viajero. Ang naglalakbay. Traverse, v. [travérs] Atravesar, cruzar. Lakbayín, tawirín. Trawl, v. [trol] Pescar con red rastrera. Mamantí. Tray, n. [tré] Artesa. Batyâ. Treacherous, adj. [trécheoes] Traidor, pérfido. Lilo, sukab, taksíl. Treacherously, adj. [trécherosli] Traidoramente, pérfidamente. May paglililo, may pagkataksil. Treachery, n. [trécheri] Perfidia, traicion. Paglililo, kasukabán. Treacle, n. [tricl] Triaca. Inuyat. Tread, n. [tred] Pisa, pisada. Tapak, yapak, yurak, tadyak. Tread, v. [tred] Pisar, hollar. Tapakan, yapakan, yurakan, tadyakán. Treadle, n. [trédl] Cárcola. Panikad, pangtadyak. Treason, n. [trizn] Traicion. Kataksilan, kasukabán, kaliluhan. Treasonable, adj. [trízonabl] Pérfido, traidor. Taksil, lilo. Treasure, n. [trésiur] Tesoro. Yaman, kayamanan. Treasure, v. [trésiur] Atesorar. Magtaglay ng kayamanan. Treasurer, n. [trésiurer] Tesorero. Tagaingat-yaman. Treasury, n. [trésiuri] Tesorería. Ingatáng-yaman. Treat, n. [trit] Convite, banquete. Anyayahan, pigíng, kasayahan. Treat, v. [trit] Tratar, negociar. Makipagtrato, makipagyarî. Treatise, n. [trítiz] Tratado, discurso. Kasulatan hinggil sa gayo't gayong kaalaman. Treatment, n. [trítment] Trato. Palagay sa kapwà, asal, ugalì, trato. Treaty, n. [tríti] Tratado, ajuste. Káyarian, kásunduan. Treble, adj. [trébl] Tríplice, triple. Makatatlo, makaitlo, tatlong beses. Treble, v. [trébl] Triplicar. Tatlohing beses. Tree, n. [tri] Arbol. Punong kahoy. Trellis, adj. [trélish] Enrejado. Sinalá, tila salá. Tremble, v. [trémbl] Temblar, estremecerse, tiritar de frio. Manginíg, mangilabot, mangaligkig, mangaykay. Trembling, n. [trémbling] Temor, temblor. Takot, panginginíg. Tremendous, adj. [triméndoes] Tremendo, formidable. Nápakalaki. Tremor, n. [trímor] Tremor, vibracion. Panginginig. Tremulous, adj. [trémiuloes] Trémulo. Nanginginig. Trench, n. [trench] Foso, zanja. Hukay, lumbak, trinchera. Trench, v. [trench] Atrincherar. Gumawâ ng trinchera. Tranchant, adj. [trénchant] Afilado, cortante. Matulis, matalas. Trencher, n. [tréncher] Trinchero; la mesa; las viandas; la comida. Tagagawâ ng trinchera; ang dulang; ang ulam; ang pagkain. Trepan, n. [tripán] Trépano, trampa. Bitag, silò. Trepan, v. [tripán] Trepanar, coger en el garlito. Hulihin sa bitag. Trespass, n. [tréspas] Transgresion. Labag, sway. Trespass, v. [tréspas] Quebrantar, trasgredir. Lumabag, sumway. Tress, n. [tres] Trenza; rizo de pelo. Tirintas; kulot [ng buhok]. Trestle, n. [tresl] Armazón de la mesa. Balangkas ng lamesa. Trial, n. [tráial] Prueba, ensayo; juicio. Pagsubok, pagsasanay; paglilitis. Triangle, n. [tríangl] Triángulo. Tatlong pánulukan. Triangular, adj. [triánguiular] Triangular. May tatlong pánulukan. Tribe, n. [tráib] Tribu, casta. Lipì, angkán. Tribulation, n. [tribiulécion] Tribulacion, congoja. Hapis, hinagpís, hirap. Tribunal, n. [traibiúnal] Tribunal. Tribunal, bahay pámunuan ng isang bayan. Tribune, n [tríbiun] Tribuno. Ang hukom noong araw sa Roma. Tributary, adj. [tríbiuteri] Tributario; sujeto, subordinado. Namumwisan; sakop, saklaw. Tribute, n [tríbiut] Tributo. Bwis. Trick, n. [tric] Treta, embuste, astucia. Lalang, dayà, salamangka. Trick, v. [tric] Engañar, hacer juegos de manos. Magdayà, magsalamangká. Trickish, adj. [tríkish] Artificioso. Mapagsalamangká. Trickster, n. [trícster] Engañador. Magdarayà. Trickle, v. [tricl] Gotear. Tumulò, pumaták. Tricky, adj. [tríki] Astuto, artificioso. Switik, salamangkero. Trident, n. [tráident] Tridente. Anomang may tatlong tulis. Triennial, adj. [traiénial] Trienal. Nangyayari twing ikatlong taón. Trifle, n. [trífl] Bagatela. Bagay na walang gasinong kabuluhan. Trifle, v. [trífl] Chancear, juguetear. Magbirô, maglarô. Trifling, adj. [tráifling] Frívolo, vano, inutil. Walang kabuluhan, walang halagá. Trigger, n. [tríguer] Pararuedas. Pangpigil. Trilateral, adj. [trailáteral] Trilátero. May tatlong gilid. Trill, n. [tril] Trino, trinado. Panginginig ng tinig. Trill, v. [tril] Trinar. Papanginigin ang tinig. Trim, adj. [trim] Compuesto, ataviado. Maayos, mahusay. Trim, v. [trim] Aparejar; adornar; podar. Ihandâ; igayak; kapunin ang sangá. Trimly, adv. [trímli] Lindamente, con primor. Mainam, marilag. Trimming, n. [tríming] Guarnicion de vestido. Palamutì, gayak, hiyas. Trinity, n. [tríniti] Trinidad. Binubuó ng tatlo, santísima Trinidad. Trinket, n. [trínket] Joya, alhaja; adorno. Hiyas, alahas; palamutì. Trio, n. [tráio] Trio armónico. Tugmáan ng tatlo. Trip, n. [trip] Viaje; resbalon, zancadilla. Paglalakbay; tisod; tapyók. Trip, v. [trip] Hacer un viaje; tropezar, resbalar. Maglakbay; mátisod, mátapyok. Tripetalous, adj. [traipétaloes] Tripétalo. Tatatlúhing talulot. Triple, adj. [trípl] Tríplice. Makatatlo. Triple, v. [trípl] Triplicar. Gawíng makatatlo. Triplet, n. [tríplet] Tercerillo. Samahán ng tatlo. Tripod, n. [trípod] Trípode. Tukod na may tatlong paa. Tripping, adj. [tríping] Veloz, agil. Matulin, maliksí. Tripping, n. [tríping] Tropiezo, traspié, desliz. Pagkatisod, pagkatapyok, pagkadupilas. Trisect, v. [traiséct] Tripartir. Katluin, tatluhing bahagi. Trisyllable, n. [trisílabl] Trisílaba. Tatatluhing pantig. Trite, adj. [tráit] Comun, usado, viejo. Karaniwan, lumà, nagamit na. Triturate, v. [trítiuret] Triturar. Durugin, dikdikin. Triumph, n. [tráioemf] Triunfo, victoria. Tagumpay, pananagumpay, pagwawagí, pananalo. Triumph, v. [tráioemf] Triunfar, vencer. Magtagumpay, magwagí, manalo. Trivet, n. [trívet] Trípode. Anomang tatatluhing paa. Trivial, adj. [trívial] Trivial, vulgar. Pangkaraniwan. Triviality, n. [triviáliti] Trivialidad. Karaniwan. Troat, v. [trot] Bramar. Umangal. Troll, v. [trol] Voltear. Biwasin. Trolley, n. [tróle] Trole. Trole. Trollop, n. [trólap] Gorrona. Salaulà. Troop, n. [trup] Tropa, cuadrilla. Hukbó, pulutong. Troop, v. [trup] Atroparse. Magpulutong. Trooper, n. [trúper] Soldado á caballo. Kawal na nangangabayo. Trophy, n. [trófi] Trofeo. Alaala ng isang labanán. Trot, n. [trot] Trote. Yagyag. Trot, v. [trot] Trotar. Tumakbó ng payagyag. Trotter, n. [tróter] Caballo troton. Kabayong pangyagyag. Trouble, n. [troebl] Molestia, turbacion. Bagabag, ligalig, gulo. Trouble, v. [troebl] Molestar, disturbar. Bumagabag, lumigalig, mangguló. Troublesome, adj. [tréblsem] Molesto, importuno. Maligalig, malikot, mapangguló, nakayayamót. Troublous, adj. [trébloes] Turbulento, confuso. Maguló, magusot. Trough, n. [trof] Artesa. Batyâ. Trousers, n. [tráuzerz] Calzones largos. Salawal, kalsonsilyo. Trowel, n. [tráwel] Trulla; llana. Ingay; pangpalitada. Truant, adj. & n. [triúant] Holgazan, tunante. Batugan, tamad. Truce, n. [tríus] Tregua; suspencion de armas. Taning; pagpapatigil ng labanán. Truck, n. [trac] Roldana ó rueda de cureña. Gulong na muntî. Truckle, v. [trakl] Someterse, ceder. Sumukò, pahinuhod, pumayag. Truculence, n. [triúkiulens] Fiereza, crueldad. Kabangisan, kabagsikán. Truculent, adj. [triúkiulent] Truculento, cruel. Mabangis, mabagsík. Trudge, v. [tredch] Andar con afan. Magpagal na lumakad. True, adj. [trú] Verdadero, cierto. Totoo, tunay. Truism, n. [triúsm] Verdad evidente. Katotohanang maliwanag. Truly, adv. [trúli] Verdaderamente, ciertamente. Pakakak; pananalo (sa sugal). Trump, n. [tramp] Trompeta; triunfo (en el juego de naipes). Pakakak; pananalo (sa sugal). Trump, v. [tramp] Engañar, inventar. Magdayà, manapote. Trumpet, n. [trámpet] Trompeta. Pakakak, trompeta, tambulì, patunog. Trumpet, v. [trámpet] Trompetear, pregonar á son de trompeta. Humihip ng pakakak, humihip ng tambulì, magpatunog ng trompeta. Trumpeter, n. [trámpeter] Trompetero. Manghihihip ng pakakak ó trompeta. Truncate, v. [tránket] Truncar ó troncar. Bawasan. Truncheon, n [trénchoen] Cachiporra, baston. Tungkod, bastón. Trundle, n. [troendl] Rueda baja. Gulong na mababà. Trundle, v. [troendl] Rodar. Umikot, umikit, pumihit. Trunk, n. [trank] Tronco; baul, cofre. Punò (ng pananím); baúl, kaban. Truss, n. [troes] Haz, atado, paquete. Hayà, bigkís, talì, pakete. Truss, v. [troes] Empaquetar, enfardelar. Bigkisín, hayâin. Trust, n. [trast] Confianza, confidencia. Tiwalà, pagkakatiwalà. Trust, v. [trast] Confiar, fiar. Tumiwalà, magkatiwalà. Trustee, n. [trastí] Fideicomisario. Kátiwalà, pinagkakatiwalaan. Trustful, adj. [trástful] Fiel, confiado. Tapát, napagkakatiwalaan. Trusty, adj. [trásti] Fiel, leal. Tapat, tapat na loob. Truth, n. [truz] Verdad. Katotohanan, katunayan. Truthful, adj. [trúzful] Verídico. Totoo, tunay. Try, v. [trái] Examinar, ensayar, probar. Litisin, suriin, sanayin, subukin, tikman. Tub, n. [tab] Cubo, tina de madera. Taóng. Tube, n. [tiub] Tubo, cañuto. Tubo, pádaluyan ng tubig. Tubercle, n. [tiúbercl] Tubérculo. Bukol. Tuberculosis, n. [tiuberculósis] Tuberculosis. Sakít sa bagà. Tubular, adj. [tiúbiuler] Tubular. Parang tubo. Tuck, n. [tac] Estoque, espada angosta y larga; pliegue. Tabak na makitid at mahabà; pileges. Tuck, v. [tac] Arremangar. Maglilis ó magtiklop ng manggás. Tucker, n. [táker] Gargantilla. Gargantilya, kwintas. Tuesday, n. [tiúzde] Martes. Martés. Tuft, n. [taft] Borla, lazo. Borlas, laso. Tufty, adj. [táfti] Afelpado, velludo. Mabalahibo. Tug, n. [tag] Tirada con esfuerzo. Batak, hila. Tug, v. [tag] Tirar con fuerza, arrancar. Bumatak, humila. Tuition, n. [tiuícion] Tutoría, tutela. Pag-iiwí, pag-ampon. Tumble, n. [támbl] Caida, vuelco. Pagkabwal, pagbaliktad, pag-aringkín. Tumble, v. [támbl] Caer, voltear, revolcar. Mabwal, mabulid, mabaliktad, umaringkín. Tumefy, v. [tiúmifai] Hacer entumecerse. Pamagain. Tumor, n. [tiúmor] Tumor. Bukol. Tumult, n. [tiúmult] Tumulto, alboroto. Kaguló, kaingay. Tumultuous, adj. [tiúmultiues] Tumultuoso, turbulento. Maguló, maingay. Tun, n. [tan] Tunel. Tubong malakí na dáanan sa ilalim ng lupà. Tune, n. [tiún] Tono, armonía. Tunog, tiníg. Tune, v. [tiún] Templar un instrumento músico. Pabutihin ang tunog. Tuneful, adj. [tiúnful] Armonioso, melodioso. Mataginting, mainam na tunog. Tuneless, adj. [tiúnles] Desentonado, disonante. Hindî tugmâ ang tunog, masamâ ang tunog, bagak. Tunnel, n. [túnel] Cañon de chimenea; tunel; embudo. Tubong pálabasan ng usok; tubong dáanan sa ilalim ng lupà; embudo, balisungsong. Tunnel, v. [túnel] Hacer una cosa en forma de embudo. Balisungsungin, gawing parang balisungsong. Tunny, n. [túni] Atun. Atún. Turbant, n. [tárbant] Turbante. Tukarol, turbante. Turbid, adj. [tárbid] Turbio, cenagoso. Malabò, marumí, lahukáw. Turbulence, n. [túrbiulens] Turbulencia, confusión. Guló, likot, kaguluhan, kalikutan. Turbulent, adj. [túrbiulent] Turbulento, agitado. Magulo, magalaw, malikot. Tureen, n. [tiurín] Sopera. Sopera, lalagyan ng sopa. Turf, n. [tarf] Césped. Limpak, bukál. Turgid, adj. [tárdchid] Inflado. Namamagâ. Turk, n. [tark] Turco. Turko. Turkey, n. [tárki] Pavo. Pabo. Turkish, adj. & n. [tárkish] Turco, de Turquía. Taga Turkyá, wikang turko, nauukol sa turko. Turmoil, n. [tármoil] Disturbio, baraunda. Kaguló, guló. Turn, n. [tarn] Vuelta, giro, rodeo. Pihit, balik, ikot, ikit. Turn, v. [tarn] Volver, tornar, rodar. Pumihit, bumalik, umikot, umikit. Turncoat, n. [tárncot] El que muda de partido ó de opiniones; desertor; renegado. Ang lumilipat sa ibang lápian ó nagbabago ng isipan; taanán; tumatalikod sa kinalalapian. Turner, n. [tárner] Torneador. Manglalalik. Turnip, n. [tárnip] Nabo. Singkamás. Turnkey, n. [tárnki] Demandero de una carcel. Bantay sa bílangguan. Turpitude, n. [tárpitiud] Torpeza, infamia. Kamusmusan, kahalayan. Turquoise, n. [térkiz] Turquesa. Turkesa [batong mahalagá]. Turret, n. [téret] Torrecilla. Moog. Turtle, n. [tartl] Tortuga. Pagong. Turtle-dove, n. [tártl-dav] Tortola. Kalapate. Tusk, n. [tasc] Colmillo. Pangil. Tusky, adj. [táski] Colmilludo. Mapangil. Tussle, n. [tasl] Alboroto. Kaingay. Tutelage, n. [tiúteledch] Tutela, tutoría. Pag-iiwí, pangangasiwà ng pag-aarì ng batang walâ pa sa ganap na gulang. Tutor, n [tiútor] Tutor, ayo. Tagapangasiwà ng pag-aarì ng batang walâ páng ganáp na gulang; tagapag-iwí. Tutor, v. [tiútor] Enseñar, instruir. Magturò, mag-iwí. Twain, n. [tuén] Dos, gemelo. Dalawa, kambal. Twang, n. [tuáng] Retintin, sonido agudo. Taginting. Twang, v. [tuáng] Producir un sonido agudo. Tumaginting. Tweezers, n. [tuízers] Tenacillas. Ipit, pang-ipit, panipit, sipit. Twelfth, adj. [tuelfz] Duodécimo. Ikalabing dalawa. Twelfth-Day, n. [tuélfz-de] El dia de Reyes ó la Epifania. Kaarawan ng Tatlong Harì. Twelve, adj. [tuelv] Doce. Labing dalawa. Twentieth, adj. [tuéntiez] Vigésimo. Ikadalawang pû. Twenty, adj. [tuénti] Veinte. Dalawang pû. Twice, adv. [tuáis] Dos veces, al doble. Makálawa. Twig, n. [tuig] Vástago. Suplíng. Twilight, n. [tuáilait] Crepúsculo. Takip-silim. Twin, n. [tuin] Gemelo, mellizo. Kambal. Twine, n. [tuáin] Hilo. Pisì. Twine, v. [tuáin] Enroscar. Pisiin, pilihín. Twinge, n. [tuindch] Dolor punzante. Antak, kirót, hapdî. Twinge, v. [tuindch] Punzar; pellizcar. Dumurò, sumundot, sumaksak; kumurot. Twinkle, v. [tuinkl] Centellear, chispar; parpadear. Numingning, kumisap; kumindat. Twinkling, n. [tuíncling] Vislumbre; guiñada; pestañeo. Kisap; kisap-matá; kindat. Twirl, n. [tuerl] Rotacion, giro. Ikot, ikit, pihit. Twirl, v. [tuerl] Voltear. Umikot, umikit. Twist, n. [tuíst] Trenza, torcedura. Tirintas, pilí, pilipít. Twist, v. [tuíst] Trenzar; torcer, entrelazar, entretejer. Tirintasín, pilihín, pilipitin. Twit, v. [tuít] Regañar. Magalit. Twitch, n. [tuitch] Pellizco. Kurót. Twitch, v. [tuitch] Pellizcar. Kumurot, mangurot. Twitter, n. [tuíter] Gorjeo; arranque, ímpetu. Huni, siyap; kapusukan, bugsô. Twitter, v. [tuíter] Chirriar, gorjear; reirse.. Sumyap, humuni; ngumisi, ngumisngis. Two, adj. [tu] Dos. Dalawa. Twofold, adj. [túfold] Doble duplicado. Makalawa, dalawangbeses. Tymbal, n. [tímbal] Timbal, atabal. Gimbal, kalatog. Tympanum, n. [tímpanum] Tímpano, el instrumento principal del oido. Tímpano ó pangdinig. Type, n. [táip] Tipo, figura; ejemplar; letra. Anyô, hichura; ulirán; titik. Typewriter, n. [táipráiter] Mecanógrafo. Mánunulat sa pamamagitan ng makinilya. Typewriting, n. [táipraiting] Mecanografía. Pagsulat sa pamamagitan ng makinilya. Typhoid, n. [tífod] Tifóidea. Tifóidea (sakít). Typhoon, n. [táifun] Tempestad. Sigwa, unós, bagyó. Typhus, n. [tífus] Tifo. Tipus. Typical, adj. [típical] Típico. Nauukol sa titik; katutubò. Typographer, n. [taipógrafer] Tipógrafo, impresor. Paham sa titik; manglilimbag. Typography, n. [taipógrafi] Tipografía, imprenta. Kapahaman sa titik; limbagan. Tyrannic, adj. [tairánic] Tiránico, despótico. Mabagsík, hindî tumutunton sa katwiran. Tyrannical, adj. [tairánical] Tiránico, despótico. Mabagsík, hindî tumutunton sa katwiran. Tyrannize, v. [tíranaiz] Tiranizar. Magmabagsik, magpunò ng dî nanununton sa katwiran. Tyranny, n. [tírani] Tiranía, gobierno despótico. Pamumunò ng dî nanununton sa katwiran. Tyrant, n. [táirant] Tirano, déspota. Taong mabagsík, punong dî nanununton sa katwiran. Tyro, n. [táiro] Tiron, bisoño. Baltak; baguhan; kawal na baguhan. U U, iu U (u). U (u). Ubiquitary, adj. [iubícuiteri] Ubicuitario, lo que está en todas partes. Ang nasa lahat ng dako. Ubiquitous = Ubiquitary. Ubiquity, n. [iubícuiti] Ubicuidad. Ang pagkakapasa lahat ng dako. Udder, n. [áder] Ubre. Puklô. Ugliness, n. [áglines] Fealdad, deformidad. Kapangitan, kasamaan ng anyô. Ugly, adj. [ágli] Feo, disforme, malparecido. Pangit, masamang anyô. Ulcer, n. [úlser] Úlcera. Sugat na nagnaknak. Ulcerate, v. [úlseret] Ulcerar. Magkasugat ng nagnanaknak. Ulceration, n. [ulserécion] Ulceracion. Pagkakasugat ng nagnanaknak. Ulterior, adj. [ultírior] Ulterior. Sa dako pa roon. Ultimate, adj. [últimet] Último, final. Hulí, wakás, katapusan. Ultimatum, n. [ultimétoem] Ultimátum, última condicion irrevocable. Hulíng pasyá na dî na mababago. Ultramarine, adj. [ultramarín] Ultramar. Sa kabilâ ng dagat. Ultramontane, adj. [ultramontén] Ultramontano, extranjero. Tagaibayo ng dagat, taga ibang lupain. Umber, n. [émber] Umbla, umbra. Labò, dilím. Umbrage, n. [émbredch] Sombra; umbría. Labò, dilím. Umbrageous, adj. [embrédches] Sombrío, umbroso. Malabò, madilím. Umbrella, n. [ambrél-la] Paraguas; parasol. Payong. Umpire, n. [ámpair] Árbitro, arbitrador. Tagahatol. Unable, adj. [enébl] Incapaz, imposibilitado. Walang kaya, walang abot. Unacceptable, adj. [anaccéptabl] Desagradable. Nakakayamot, nakaiinip. Unaccommodating, adj. [anakommódeting] Inconveniente. Hindî dapat, hindî bagay. Unaccompanied, adj. [anacómpanid] Solo, sin acompañamiento. Nag-iisá, walang kasama. Unaccomplished, adj. [anacómplisd] Incompleto, no acabado.. Hindî tapós, hindî lutás. Unaccountable, adj. [anacáuntabl] Inexplicable, extraño. Dî malirip, dî masayod. Unaccustomed, adj. [anancástamd] Desacostumbrado. Hindî hiratí, hindî gawî. Unacquainted, adj. [anacuénted] Desconocido; ignorado. Hindî kilala. Unaccountable, adj. [anacáuntabl] Inexplicable. Dî masayod. Unanimity, n. [iunanímiti] Unanimidad. Pagkakaisa. Unanimous, adj. [iunánimoes] Unánime. Magkaisá. Unanswerable, adj. [anánserable] Incontrovertible, indisputable, incontestable. Dî masagot, dî matugón. Unavoidable, adj. [anavóidabl] Inevitable. Dî maiwasan, dî mailagan. Unaware, adj. [anawér] Desatento. Pabayâ, nakakakalingat. Unawares, adv. [anawérs] Inadvertídamente; de improviso. Kaginsaginsa, biglâ. Unbecoming, adj. [anbikáming] Indecente, indecoroso; impropio. Mahalay, bastos; hindî dapat. Unbelief, n. [anbilíf] Incredulidad. Kawalán ng pananampalataya. Unbeliever, n. [anbilíver] Incrédulo. Walang pananampalataya. Unbending, adj. [anbénding] Inflexible. Dî mabaluktok. Unbind, v. [anbáind] Desatar. Kalagin, alisan ng talì. Unbossom, v. [anbósom] Abrir su pecho á alguno; revelar un secreto. Maghingá ng nasa sa kalooban, magpahayag ng lihim. Unbound, adj. [anbáund] No encuadernado. Walang balat ó pasta. Unbred, adj. [anbréd] Descortés, impolítico. Bastos, mahalay, walang turò. Unbridle, v. [anbráidl] Desenfrenar. Kalagín, alisin ang kabesada. Unburied, adj. [anbérid] Insepulto. Hindî nálilibing. Uncertain, adv. [ansérten] Incierto, dudoso. Hindî maasahan, álanganin. Uncertainty, n. [ansértenti] Incertidumbre, duda. Aligamgam, pagaalanganin. Unchangeable, adj. [anchéndchebl] Inmutable. Dî nagbabago. Uncharitable, adj. [ancháritabl] Nada caritativo. Walang habag, walang awà. Uncivil, adj. [ansívil] Descortés, impolítico. Lapastangan, walang galang, walang pitagan. Uncivilized, adj. [ansívilaizd] Salvaje, no civilizado. Taga gubat, walang kabihasnan. Uncle, n. [áncl] Tio. Amáin, mamà. Unclean, adj. [anclín] Inmundo, sucio. Kasuklamsuklam, karimarimarim, salaulà, marungis. Uncleanliness, n. [anclénlines] Inmundicia, suciedad. Kasalaulaan, karumihan. Uncomfortable, adj. [ancómfortabl] Desconsolado, triste. Dî maaliw, malungkot, mapanlaw. Uncommon, adj. [ancómon] Raro, extraño, extraordinario. Dî karaniwan, kaibá, tangì. Unconscious, adj. [ancóncias] Inconciente. Walang diwà, walang ulirat, walang damdam. Uncontrollable, adj. [ancontrólabl] Ingobernable, irresistible. Di mapigil, di masupil. Uncouth, adj. [ancúz] Extraño, extraordinario. Kaibá, katwâ. Uncover, v. [ancóver] Descubrir. Buksán, alisan ng takip. Unction, n. [únccion] Unción. Pagpapahid ng langis. Uncultivated, adj. [ankéltiveted] Inculto. Hindî nábubungkal ó nabubukid. Undaunted, adj. [andánted] Intrépido. Pangahás. Undecided, adj. [andisáided] Indeciso. Sálawahan, urong-sulóng. Undeniable, adj. [endináiabl] Innegable. Dî máikakailâ, dî maitatangí. Under, prep. & adv. [ánder] Debajo, inferior á. Nasa ilalim, mababà kaysa.... Underbid, v. [anderbíd] Ofrecer por alguna cosa menos de lo que vale. Tawaran. Undergo, v. [andergó] Sufrir, padecer. Magtiís, magbatá. Underground, n. [ándergraund] Soterráneo. Ang nasa ilalim ng lupà. Underhand, adv. [anderjénd] Debajo mano, clandestinamente. Lihim, patagô. Underline, v. [anderlain] Subrayar. Guhitan sa ilalim. Underling, n. [ánderling] Hombre vil y despreciable. Taong hamak. Undermine, v. [andermáin] Minar ó abrir camino por debajo de la tierra. Humukay ó magbukás ng daan sa ilalim ng lupà. Undermost, adj. [ándermost] Ínfimo. Kábabababaan. Underneath, adv. [anderníz] Debajo. Sa ilalim. Underrate, v. [anderét] Desapreciar. Halagahan ng mababà. Undersell, v. [andersél] Vender por menos. Ipagbilí ng walá sa halagá. Understand, v. [anderstánd] Entender, comprender. Maunawà, máintindihan, máwatasan, márinig, matalastas. Understanding, n. [anderstánding] Entendimiento, inteligencia, conocimiento. Unawà; kaalaman, bait. Undertake, v. [anderték] Emprender, tomar á su cargo, tomar por su cuenta. Magsagawâ; mangasiwà. Undertaking, n. [andertéking] Empresa. Panukalà; pagsasagawâ. Underwood, n. [ánderwud] Monte bajo. Bundok na mababà. Underwrite, v. [ander-ráit] Firmar debajo de algun escrito. Maglagdâ sa ibabâ ng sulat. Undo, v. [andú] Deshacer, desatar. Kalasín, kalagin, baguhin. Undoubted, adj. [andáuted] Indubitado, evidente. Hindî ipag-aalinlangan, maliwanag. Undress, n. [andrés] Ropa de casa. Damít na pangbahay. Undress, v. [andrés] Desnudar. Maghubad, magbihis. Undue, adj. [andiú] Indebido, ilícito. Hindî dapat, hindî marapat. Undulate, v. [ándiulet] Ondear. Umindayon; mag-inalón, pumagaypay. Undulation, n. [andiulécion] Undulacion. Indayon. Unearth, v. [anérz] Desenterrar. Hukayin, ilitaw. Uneasy, adj. [anízi] Inquieto, desasosegado, incómodo. Dî mápakali, dî mápalagay, balisá. Unequal, adj. [anícual] Desigual. Kabilán, hindî pantay. Unequalled, adj. [anícuald] Sin igual, incomparable. Walang kapara, dî máihahalintulad. Uneven, adj. [anívn] Desigual; impar; escabroso. Hindî pantay; gansal, lunes (sa bilang; bakubakô). Unexpected, adj. [anecspécted] Inesperado, inopinado. Hindî hinihintay, hindî akalaing dárating. Unexpectedly, adv. [anecspéctedli] De repente, inopinadamente. Biglangbiglâ, kagínsaginsá. Unfaithful, adj. [anfézful] Infiel, pérfido, desleal. Taksíl, lilo, sukab, palamara. Unfasten, v. [anfásn] Desatar, soltar. Kalagín, pawalán. Unfathomable, adj. [anfázemabl] Insondable. Dî matarok. Unfed, adj. [anféd] Falto de alimento. Kulang sa pagkain. Unfeeling, adj. [anfíling] Insensible, cruel. Walang damdamin, mabagsík. Unfilial, adj. [anfílial] Indigno de un hijo. Hindî nararapat sa anák. Unfinished, adj. [anfínishd] Incompleto, imperfecto, no acabado. Hindî tapós, hindî lubos, hindî yarì. Unfit, adj. [anfít] Inepto, incapaz. Walang kaya, hindî marapat. Unfold, v. [anfóld] Desplegar, desdoblar. Ikadkad, ilatag. Unfortunate, adj. [anfórchiunet] Desafortunado, infeliz. Sawî, masamang kapalaran. Unfounded, adj. [anfáunded] Sin fundamento. Walang kapararakan. Unfriendly, adj. [anfréndli] Nada afable. Hindî marunong makipagkaibigan. Unfruitful, adj. [anfrútful] Estéril, infructuoso. Baóg, karát. Unfurl, v. [anférl] Desplegar, extender. Iladlad, ilatag. Ungainly, adj. [anguénli] Zafio, tosco. Pangit, magaspang. Unglue, v. [angliú] Desencolar. Bakbakin, tiklapin. Ungodly, adj. [angódli] Impío, irreligioso. Walang kabanalan, salarín. Ungovernable, adj. [angóvernabl] Indomable, ingobernable. Dî masupil, dî mapasukò. Ungrateful, adj. [angrétful] Desagradecido, ingrato. Hindî marunong kumilala ng utang na loob. Unguent, n. [úngüent] Ungüento. Pabango na pangpahid. Unguarded, adj. [angárded] Sin guarda. Walang bantay. Unhallowed, adj. [anjálod] Profano. Lapastangan. Unhappiness, n. [anjépines] Infelicidad, infortunio. Kasawian, kaabáan. Unhappy, adj. [anjépi] Infeliz, desdichado, desafortunado. Sawî, abâ, masamang kapalaran. Unhealthy, adj. [anjélzi] Enfermizo. Masasákitin. Unholy, adj. [anjóli] Profano, impío. Lapastangan. Uniform, adj. [iúniform] Uniforme. Magkakaanyô, magkakaparis, magkakaisá. Uniformity, n. [iunifórmiti] Uniformidad, igualdad. Pagkakaisang-anyô, pagkakaayon. Unintelligible, adj. [anintélidchibl] Ininteligible. Hindî máwatasan, hindî máintindihan. Union, n. [iúnion] Union, conformidad. Pagkakáisa, pagkakaayon. Unique, adj. [iúnic] Único, uno. Nag-iisá, bugtong. Unison, n. [iúnisan] Unisonancia. Pagkakaisang tingig sa tugtugan. Unit, adj. [iúnit] Unidad. Isá. Unity, n. [iúniti] Unidad, union. Pagkakaisa. Universal, adj. [iunivérsal] Universal. Nauukol sa sangsinukob. Universe, n. [iúnivers] Universo. Sangsinukob, sangdaigdigan. Unjust, adj. [andchást] Injusto, inicuo. Hindî banal, masamâ. Unkind, adj. [ancáind] Nada cortés, áspero. Bastós, mahalay. Unknown, adj. [annón] Ignorado, oculto. Hindî kilala, tagô, lingíd. Unlawful, adj. [anlóful] Ilegítimo, ilícito. Labag sa kautusan. Unlearned, adj. [anlérnd] Indocto; ignorante. Walang tuto, walang pinag aralan; hangal. Unless, conj. [anlés] Á menos que; si no. Maliban, kung dî. Unlike, adj. [anláik] Diferente, distinto. Iba, kaibá. Unlikely, adv. [anláicli] Improbablemente. Hindî maaasahan, walang kasiguruhán. Unlimited, adj. [anlímited] Ilimitado. Walang hangga. Unload, v. [anlód] Descargar. Mag-ibís, maglapag ng dalá ó lulan. Unlock, v. [anlóc] Abrir alguna cerradura. Buksán ang seradura. Unloose, v. [anlús] Desatar. Kalagín. Unlucky, adj. [anláki] Desafortunado, desdichado. Sawing palad, masamang kapalaran. Unnatural, adj. [annáchural] Contrario á las leyes de la naturaleza. Nálalabag sa lakad ng katalagahan. Unnecessary, adj. [annéceseri] Innecesario. Hindî kailangan. Unneighborly, adj. [annéborli] Poco atento con sus vecinos. Hindî marunong makipagkapit-bahay. Unnumbered, adj. [annámberd] Innumerable. Walang bilang, dî mabilang. Unpack, v. [anpác] Desempaquetar. Alisin sa balot. Unpalatable, adj. [anpálatabl] Desabrido. Matabang, walang lasa. Unparalleled, adj. [anpáraleld] Sin paralelo. Walang kapara. Unpleasant, adj. [anplésant] Desagradable. Nakayayamot. Unpolished, adj. [anpólishd] Tosco, que no está pulido. Magaspáng, hindî kayás. Unprecedented, adj. [anprésidented] Sin ejemplo. Walang kahalintulad. Unprepared, adj. [anpripérd] Desprevenido, desprovisto, no preparado. Hindî handâ. Unprofitable, adj. [anprófitabl] Inútil, vano. Walang pakinabang, walang kabuluhan. Unqualified, adj. [ancuólifaid] Inhábil, incapaz. Walang kaya, walang abot. Unquestionable, adj. [ancuéschenabl] Indisputable, indubitable. Hindî máipakikipagtalo, hindî máipag-aalinlangan. Unquiet, adj. [ancuáit] Inquieto, agitado. Malikot, magalaw, balisá. Unreasonable, adj. [anríznabl] Desrazonable. Walâ sa katwiran, hindî katwiran. Unrest, n. [anrést] Inquietud. Kabalisahan, pagkabalisa, kawalán ng paghingá. Unrighteous, adj. [anráichoes] Injusto, impío. Hindî banal, makasalanan, masamâ. Unripe, adj. [anráip] Inmaturo. Hilaw, bubot, mura. Unroll, v. [anról] Desarrollar. Ilatag. Unroof, v. [anrúf] Destechar. Alisan ng bubong. Unsafe, adj. [anséf] Peligroso, no seguro. May panganib, hindî tiwasay. Unsavory, adj. [ansévori] Desabrido, insípido. Matabang, walang lasa. Unscrew, v. [anscriú] Desentornillar. Alisan ng tornilyo. Unseemly, adj. [ansímli] Indecente, impropio. Bastos, mahalay, hindî karapatdapat. Unseen, adj. [ansín] Invisible. Hindî nakikita. Unsettle, v. [ansétl] Alterar, perturbar. Galawín, guluhín. Unsightly, adj. [ansáitli] Feo, disforme. Pangit, masamang anyô. Unsociable, adj. [ansóciabl] Insociable, intratable. Hindî marunong makipagkapwà. Unsound, adj. [ansáund] Enfermizo, falta de salud. Masasakitin, mahinà ang katawan. Unsuccessful, adj. [ansacsésful] Infructuoso, desafortunado. Kulang palad, sawing palad. Unsuitable, adj. [ansiútabl] Desproporcionado. Hindî bagay, hindî pareho. Untie, v. [antái] Desatar, desenlazar. Kalagin, tastasín, hugnusín. Until, adv. [antíl] Hasta, hasta que. Hanggang, hanggang sa. Untimely, adj. [antáimli] Intempestivo. Walâ sa panahon. Unto, prep. [antú] Á, para, en. Sa. Untrue, adj. [antrú] Falso, incierto. Sinungaling, hindî totoo. Unusual, adj. [aniúsiual] Raro; extraño. Dî karaniwan, bihirà; kaibá. Unutterable, adj. [anáterabl] Indecible. Dî masabi. Unvail, v. [anvél] Quitar ó correr el velo. Mag-alis ng lambong; alisin ó hawiin ang tabing ó takip. Unwearied, adj. [anwírid] Infatigable. Walang pagod, walang pagál. Unwell, adj. [anwél] Enfermizo, malo. May sakít, may damdam, sinasamaan ng katawán. Unwilling, adj. [anwíling] Desinclinado. Ayaw. Unwittingly, adj. [anwítingli] Sin saber. Walang malay, walâ sa loob. Unworthy, adj. [anwérzi] Indigno; vil, bajo. Dî dapat; hamak. Unwrap, v. [anráp] Desenvolver. Magbukás ng balutan. Up, adv. & prep. [ap] Arriba, en lo alto. Sa itaas. Upbear, v. [apbír] Sostener en lo alto. Alalayan sa itaas. Upbraid, v. [apbréd] Echar en cara. Ipamukhâ. Uphold, v. [apjóld] Levantar en alto; sostener, apoyar. Itaas; alalayan. Upland, adj. [ápland] Alto, elevado. Mataas, matayog. Upland, n. [ápland] País montañoso. Lupang mataas. Uplift, v. [aplíft] Levantar en alto. Itaas, ibangon. Upmost, adj. [ápmost] Lo mas alto, supremo. Kátaastaasan. Upon, prep. [apón] Sobre, encima. Sa ibabaw. Upper, adj. [áper] Mas alto. Lalong mataas. Uppermost, adj. [ápermost] Lo mas alto, supremo. Kátaastaasan. Uppish, adj. [ápish] Engreido, altivo. Palalò, mapagmataas. Uppraise, v. [apréz] Exaltar. Ibunyî itaas. Upright, adj. [apráit] Derecho, recto. Matwid. Uprightly, adv. [ápraitli] Perpendicularmente, derechamente. Patayô, patwíd. Uproar, n. [ápror] Tumulto, alboroto. Kaguló, kaingáy. Uproot, v. [aprút] Desarraigar. Bunutin. Upset, v. [apsét] Trastornar. Guluhín. Upshot, n. [ápshot] Remate, fin; conclusion. Dulo, wakás, katapusan. Upside-down, adv. [apsaiddáun] De arriba abajo. Patiwarík. Upstart, n. [apstárt] Hombre de fortuna. Taong mapalad. Upstart, v. [apstárt] Levantarse de repente. Bumangon ng pabiglâ. Upward, adj. [ápward] Lo que mira ó se dirige hácia arriba.. Dakong itaas. Upwards, adv. [ápwards] Hácia arriba. Sa dakong itaas. Urban, adj. [úrban] Urbano. Nauukol sa bayan. Urbanity, n. [urbániti] Urbanidad. Galang, pitagan, karunungan sa pakikipagkapwà. Urge, v. [ærdch] Urgir; incitar, estimular. Pumilit; madaliin; papagmadaliin; ibuyó, udyukan. Urgency, n. [úrdchensi] Urgencia. Pagmamadalî, kadalian, pangangailangan, pagpilit. Urgent, adj. [úrdchent] Urgente. Mádalian; kailangan. Urinal, n. [iúrinal] Orinal. Ihían. Urinary, adj. [iúrineri] Urinario. Nauukol sa ihì. Urine, n. [iúrin] Orina. Ihì. Urn, n. [oern] Urna. Urna; sisidlan. Us, pron. [as] Nos, á nosotros. Sa amin, sa atin. Use, n. [ius] Uso, servicio. Uso, kaugalian; paggamit. Use, v. [ius] Usar, emplear. Gamitin; gumamit. Useful, adj. [iúsful] Útil. Magagamit. Usefulness, n. [iúsfulnes] Utilidad. Pakinabang; kabuluhan. Useless, adj. [iúsles] Inutil. Walang kabuluhan. Usual, adj. [iúsual] Usual, ordinario, comun. Karaniwan. Usurer, n. [iúsiurer] Usurero. Ang nagpapatubò. Usurp, v. [iuzérp] Usurpar. Manglupig, mangagaw; manggagá, mangamkam. Usurpation, n. [iuserpécion] Usurpación. Panglulupig, pang-aagaw, pangangamkam, panggagagá. Utensil, n. [iuténsil] Utensilio. Kasangkapan. Utility, n. [iutíliti] Utilidad, ventaja. Kabuluhan, kasaysayan, pakinabang. Utmost, adj. [átmost] Extremo, sumo. Káduluduluhan, kátaastaasan. Utter, adj. [áter] Exterior, de fuera. Labás. Utter, v. [áter] Proferir, pronunciar. Bumigkas, magbadyá. Utterance, n. [áterans] Habla, expresion. Bigkás, badyá, pananalitâ. Utterly, adv. [áterli] Enteramente, totalmente, del todo. Lubos, buongbuô, pawà. Uxorious, adj. [oecsórioes] Gurrumino. Lalaking talunan ng asawa. V Vacancy, n. [vácansi] Vacio, hueco; vacante. Walang lamán; bakante. Vacant, adj. [vácant] Vacio; desocupado. Walang lamán, walang nalalagay. Vacate, v. [véket] Anular, invalidar. Alisín, pawalán ng kabuluhan. Vacation, n. [vekécion] Vacacion. Pagpapahinga, pagliliwaliw. Vaccinate, v. [vácsinet] Vacunar. Magbakuna, magtanim ng bulutong. Vaccination, n. [vacsinécion] Vacunacion. Pagbabakuna; pagtatanim ng bulutong. Vacillate, v. [vásilet] Vacilar. Mag-urong sulóng. Vacillation, n. [vasilécion] Vaivén. Giray, pag-uurongsulong. Vacuity, n. [vakiúiti] Vacuidad. Kawalán ng lamán. Vacuous, adj. [vákiuoes] Vacío, desocupado. Walang lamán. Vacuum, n. [vákiuoem] Vacuo. Walang lamán. Vagabond, adj. [vágabond] Vagabundo, holgazan, ocioso. Palaboy, hampas-lupà, tangá. Vagary, n. [vágueri] Capricho, antojo. Sungpong, kapricho. Vagrancy, n. [végransi] Tuna, la vida holgazana. Paglalabóy, paghahampas-lupà. Vagrant, adj. [végrant] Vagabundo. Hampas-lupà. Vain, adj. [ven] Vano, inutil. Walang kabuluhan. Vainglorious, adj. [venglórioes] Vanaglorioso, jactancioso, ufano. Hambog, mayabang. Vainglory, n. [venglóri] Vanagloria, jactancia. Kahambugan, kayabangan. Valediction, n. [validíccion] Despedida. Paalam. Valedictory, n. [validíctori] Haciendo despedida. Pagpapaalam. Valet, n. [válet] Criado. Alilang lalake. Valiant, adj. [váliant] Valiente, animoso. Matapang, malakas ang loob. Valid, adj. [válid] Válido. May kabuluhan. Validity, n. [valíditi] Validacion. Kabuluhán. Valley, n. [váli] Valle. Libís. Valuable, adj. [váliuabl] Precioso, apreciable. Mahalagá, makabuluhan. Valuation, n. [valiuécion] Tasa, valuacion. Tasa, pagkákahalaga. Value, n. [véliu] Valor, precio. Kabuluhán, halagá. Value, v. [véliu] Valuar, tasar; estimar, apreciar. Tasahan, halagahan. Valueless, adj. [váliules] Indigno, despreciable. Walang kabuluhan, walang halaga. Vamp, v. [vamp] Remendar. Magtagpî, magtutop. Vampire, n. [vámpair] Vampiro. Multó raw na umiitit ng dugô ng buháy; bayakan na umiitit daw ng dugô ng kapwà hayop. Van, n. [van] Vanguardia. Talibà, tanod sa unahan ng hukbó. Vane, n. [ven] Veleta. Panurò ng tungo ng hangin. Vanguard, n. [vángard] Vanguardia. Talibà, tanod sa unahán ng hukbó. Vanish, v. [vánish] Desvanecerse, desaparecer. Mawalâ, maparam, mapawì; kumupas. Vanity, n. [vánity] Vanidad. Walang kabuluhan, kalayawan. Vanquish, v. [váncuish] Vencer; conquistar. Dumaig, magpasukò, sumupil; sumakop. Vanquisher, n. [váncuisher] Vencedor. Mánunupil, mapagwagí, mapagtagumpay. Vantage, n. [vántedch] Ventaja; ganancia, provecho. Kalamangán; pakinabang. Vapid, adj. [vápid] Exhalado; insípido. Nakasingaw; walang lasa. Vapor, n. [vépor] Vapor, exhalacion. Usok, asó; singaw. Vapor, v. [vépor] Evaporarse, exhalarse. Umusok, umasó; sumingaw. Variable, adj. [vériabl] Variable. Pabagobago, nag-iiba. Variableness, n. [vériablnes] Instabilidad, inconstancia. Pagkakabagobago, dî pananatili. Variably, adv. [vériabli] Variablemente. Pabagobago. Variance, n. [vérians] Discordia, desavenencia. Pagtatalo, pagkakaalit; away. Variation, n. [veriécion] Variacion. Kaibhán. Variegated, adj. [vériegueted] Abigarrado. Patákpatak, batíkbatík. Variety, n. [varáieti] Variedad; mudanza ó alteracion. Pagkakaibá't ibá; pagbabago. Various, adj. [vérioes] Vario, diverso, diferente. Iba't iba, sarìsarì, samot sarì. Varnish, n. [várnish] Barniz. Barnís. Varnisher, n. [várnisher] Embarnizador. Tagapagbarnís. Vary, v. [véri] Variar, diferenciar. Magbago, mag-ibá. Vase, n. [ves] Vaso. Sisidlán. Vassal, n. [vásal] Vasallo, subdito. Kampón, kawal, kabig, sakop, saklaw. Vassalage, n. [vásaledch] Vasallaje. Pagkakampon, pagkakawal. Vast, adj. [vast] Vasto, extenso, inmenso. Malakí, malawak, malawig. Vastness, n. [vástnes] Dilatacion, inmensidad. Lawak, lawig. Vat, n. [vat] Tina. Kaang. Vault, n. [volt] Bóveda; cueva, caverna, bodega. Bóbeda; yungib, lunggâ; tinggalan. Vault, v. [volt] Abovedar; voltear. Gawíng parang bóbeda; bumilíng. Vaunt, v. [vont] Jactarse, vanagloriarse. Maghambog, magpalalò, magmayabang. Vaunter, n. [vónter] Baladrón, fanfarrón. Hambog, mayabang, palaló. Veal, n. [vil] Ternera. Lamán ng guyà. Veer, v. [vir] Virar, dar vuelta el navio. Ipihit. Vegetable, adj. [védchetabl] Vegetable. Nauukol sa gulay, guguláyin. Vegetable, n. [védchetabl] Verdura, legumbre. Gulay; guguláyin. Vegetate, v. [védchetet] Vegetar. Tumubò. Vegetation, n. [vedchetécion] Vegetación. Pananim, halaman. Vehemence, n. [víimens] Vehemencia. Kasiglahan, siglá. Vehemency = Vehemence. Vehement, adj. [víiment] Vehemente. Masigla. Vehicle, n. [víhicl] Vehículo, carruaje. Mga sasakyan sa lupà gaya ng karomata, kalesa, karwahe, karitela. Veil, n. [vel] Velo, cubierta. Lambóng, takíp. Veil, v. [vel] Cubrir, tapar. Maglambóng, magtakíp. Vein, n. [ven] Vena. Ugat. Veiny, adj. [véni] Venoso. Maugát. Velocity, n. [vilósiti] Velocidad. Tulin, katulinan, liksí, kaliksihan. Venal, adj. [vínal] Venal, perteneciente á las venas. Nauukol sa ugat. Vend, v. [vend] Vender. Magbilí. Venerable, adj. [vénerabl] Venerable. Kagalanggalang. Venerate, v. [véneret] Venerar, reverenciar, respetar. Igalang, bigyang pitagan. Veneration, n. [venerécion] Veneracion, respeto. Galang, pitagan. Venereal, adj. [venírial] Venéreo, lo que pertenece á la Venus ó al deleite sensual. Malibog, nauukol sa pakikiapid. Vengeance, n. [véndchans] Venganza. Panghihigantí. Venial, adj. [vínial] Venial. Mapatatawad. Venison, n. [vénizn] Venado. Usá. Venom, n. [vénom] Veneno. Lason. Venomous, adj. [vénomoes] Venenoso. Nakakalason. Vent, n. [vent] Respiradero, salida. Pásingawan, híngahan, lábasan. Vent, v. [vent] Ventear. Pasingawín. Ventilate, n. [véntilet] Ventilar; aventar. Pahanginan; pumaypay. Venture, n. [vénchur] Riesgo, peligro; aventura; casualidad. Panganib, kapanganiban; kapalaran; pagkakataon. Venture, v. [vénchur] Osar, atreverse; aventurarse, arriesgar. Mangahas; magbakasakalì. Venturesome, adj. [vénchursam] Osado, atrevido. Pangahás, mapusok. Venturous = Venturesome. Veracious, adj. [verécioes] Veraz. Totoo, tapat, mapagsabi ng totoo. Veracity, n. [virásiti] Veracidad. Katotohanan. Verb, n. [verb] Verbo. Berbo, pangwatas. Verbal, adj. [vérbal] Verbal. Sa salitâ lamang, hindî nasusulat. Verbatim, adv. [verbétim] Al pie de la letra. Ayon sa salitâ. Verbose, adj. [verbós] Verboso. Masalitâ. Verbosity, n. [verbósiti] Verbosidad. Saganà sa pananalitâ. Verdant, adj. [vérdant] Verde. Berde, lungtian, sariwà. Verdict, n. [vérdict] Veredicto, dictamen. Hatol, pasiyá. Verdure, n. [vérdchur] Verdor. Kaberdihan, kasariwaan. Verge, n. [verdch] Borde, margen. Gilid, tabí. Verge, v. [verdch] Inclinarse ó doblarse hácia abajo. Tumungó. Verification, n. [verifikécion] Verificacion, confirmacion. Pagkakapatunay, pagkakapatotoo. Verify, v. [vérifai] Verificar, comprobar. Matunayan, mapatotohanan. Verily, adv. [vérili] En verdad. Sa katotohanan. Verjuice, n. [vérdchius] Agraz. Maasim, maaskad. Vermicelli, n. [vermishéli] Fideos. Pideós. Vermicular, adj. [vermíkiular] Vermicular. Nauukol sa bulate. Vermifuge, n. [vérmifiudch] Vermífugo. Gamot laban sa bulate. Vermilion, n. [vermílion] Bermellon. Pulá. Vermin, n. [vérmin] Bichos, cualquier animal dañino. Hayop na nananakit. Vernacular, adj. [vernákiular] Nativo. Nauukol sa kinamulatan. Vernal, adj. [vérnal] Vernal. Nauukol sa tagaraw. Versatile, adj. [versátil] Versátil, mudable; voluble. Nagbabago, nag-iiba, sálawahan. Verse, n. [vers] Versículo. Talatà. Versed, adj. [vérsd] Versado, práctico en una cosa. Bihasá, sanáy, matalinò. Version, n. [vérsion] Versión, traducción. Salin. Versus, prep. [vérsus] Contra. Laban. Vertebra, n. [vértibra] Vértebra. Isang butó ng gulugod. Vertebral, adj. [vértibral] Vertebral. Nauukol sa butó ng gulugod. Vertex, adj. [vértecs] Vértice; cima. Dulo, taluktok. Vertical, adj. [vértical] Vertical. Patayô, patindig. Vertigo, n. [vértigo] Vértigo. Hilo, lulà. Very, adv. [véri] Muy, mucho. Lubhâ, nápaka, totoo. Vespers, n. [véspers] Vísperas. Bisperás, araw na sinusundan. Vessel, n. [vésel] Vasija. Sisidlán. Vest, n. [vest] Chaleco. Chaleko. Vest, v. [vest] Investir, poner en posesion. Bihisan, bigyan ng kapangyarihan. Vestal, n. [véstal] Vestal, vírgen. Banal, malinis. Vestige, n. [véstidch] Vestigio. Bakás. Vestment, n. [véstment] Vestido, vestidura. Bihisan, damit. Vesture, n. [véschur] Vestido. Damít. Veteran, adj. & n. [véteran] Veterano. Datihang kawal, bihasá. Veterinarian, adj. [veterinérian] Veterinario. Manggagamot ng hayop. Veterinary, adj. [véterineri] Lo que pertenece á la veterinaria. Nauukol sa panggagamot ng hayop. Vex, v. [vecs] Vejar; molestar. Magpahirap, magpasákit; gumambalà. Vexation, n. [vecsécion] Vejacion, maltrato. Pahirap, pasakit. Vexatious, adj. [vecsécioes] Penoso, molesto. Mahirap, kasakitsakit. Viaduct, n. [viádact] Viaducto. Tuláy. Vial, n. [váial] Redoma. Boteng muntî. Viand, n. [váiand] Vianda. Ulam. Vibrate, v. [váibret] Vibrar. Tumaginting. Vibration, n. [vaibrécion] Vibracion. Taginting. Vicar, n. [víkar] Vicario. Bikaryo, kahalile; katulong. Vicarage, n. [víkeredch] Vicaría, vicariato. Saklaw ó kapangyarihan ng bikaryo. Vice, adj. [váis] Vice. Pangalawa [sa tungkol]. Vice, n. [váis] Vicio; culpa. Bisyo, masamang gawî; sala. Vicinity, n. [vicíniti] Vecindad, proximidad. Pook, nayon, lugar. Vicious, adj. [vícioes] Vicioso. Bisyoso, masulong. Vicissitude, n. [visísitiud] Vicisitud; alternativa; mudanza. Ayos ng pagkakasunodsunod, pagkakabagobago, pagkakapalitpalit, pagkakalipatlipat. Victim, n. [víctim] Víctima. Ang nasawî, ang nápariwarâ. Victor, n. [víctor] Vencedor. Ang nagwagí, ang nagtagumpay, ang nanalo. Victorious, adj. [victórioes] Victorioso. Nagwagí, nagtagumpay, nanalo. Victory, n. [víctori] Victoria. Pagwawagí, pagtatagumpay, pananalo. Victual, n. [vitl] Vitualla. Pagkain. Victual, v. [vitl] Abastecer. Bigyan ng pagkain. Videlicet, adj. [vidéliset] Á saber. Gaya ng sumusunod. Vie, v. [vái] Competir. Makípag-agawan, makipaglaban. View, n. [viu] Vista, perspectiva, aspecto. Tánawin, Tingin. View, v. [viu] Mirar, ver, examinar. Tanawín, tignan, masdan. Vigil, n. [vídchil] Vela, vigilia. Pagpupuyat. Vigilance, n. [vídchilans] Desvelo, vigilancia. Puyat, pagbabantay. Vigilant, adj. [vídchilant] Vigilante. Maingat. Vigor, n. [vígor] Vigor, fuerza; energía, eficacia. Lakás, tibay, sigla, bisà. Vigorous, adj. [vígoroes] Vigoroso. Malakas, matibay, masigla, mabisà. Vile, adj. [váil] Vil, bajo, despreciable. Hamak, mababà. Vileness, n. [váilnes] Vileza, bajeza. Kahamakan, kababaan. Vilify, v. [vílifai] Envilecer. Hamakin, murahin. Villa, n. [víla] Quinta. Táhanan sa parang. Village, n. [víledch] Aldea. Nayon, bayanbayanan. Villain, n. [vílin] Villano. Taong hamak. Villany, n. [vílani] Villanía, infamia. Kahamakan, kasamaan. Vindicate, v. [víndiket] Vindicar, defender, vengar. Mananggaláng, manghigantí. Vindication, n. [vindikécion] Vindicacion. Panananggalang, panghihiganti. Vine, n. [váin] Vid. Punò ng ubas. Vinegar, n. [víniguer] Vinagre. Sukà. Vineyard, n. [víniard] Viña. Ubasán. Vinous, adj. [váinoes] Vinoso. Maalak. Vintage, n. [víntedch] Vendimia. Pag-ani ng ubas. Vintner, n. [víntner] Vinatero, tabernero. Mánininda ng alak. Viol, n. [váiol] Viola. Byola, byolíng malaké. Violate, v. [váiolet] Violar; profanar las cosas sagradas. Dumahas, mangdahas, mamwersa; lumapastangan, mamasláng. Violation, n. [vaiolécion] Violacion. Pangdadahas, pamamasláng. Violator, n. [váioletor] Violador. Mangdadahás, mámamaslang. Violence, n. [váiolens] Violencia. Dahás, karahasán. Violent, adj. [váiolent] Violento. Marahás. Violet, n. [váiolet] Violeta. Byoleta. Violin, n. [vaiolín] Violin. Byolín. Violinist, n. [vaiolínist] Violinista. Byolinista. Viper, n. [váiper] Vívora. Ulupóng. Virago, n. [vairégo] Marimacho. Babaing kilos lalake. Virgin, n. [vírdchin] Virgen, doncella. Birhen, dalagang wagás. Virginal, adj. [vírdchinal] Virginidad. Nauukol sa birhen ó sa dalagang wagás. Virginity, n. [virdchíniti] Virginidad. Pagkabirhen, pagkadalágang wagás. Virile, adj. [váiril] Viril. Parang lalake. Virtue, n. [virtíu] Virtud. Kabanalan; birtud, bisà. Virtuous, n. [vérchiuoes] Virtuoso; eficaz. Banal; mabisà. Virulence, n. [víriulens] Virulencia. Nanà, naknák. Virulent, adj. [víriulent] Virulento. Nagnananá, nagnanaknak. Virus, n. [váiroes] Virus. Nanà na nakakahawa. Visage, n. [vísedch] Rostro, cara, semblante. Mukhâ, anyô. Viscera, n. [vísera] Intestinos. Bituka. Viscount, n. [váscaunt] Vizconde. Biskonde. Viscountess, n. [víscauntes] Vizcondesa. Asawa ng Biskonde. Viscous, adj. [vískoes] Viscoso, pegajoso. Malagkit. Visible, adj. [vísibl] Visible. Nakikita. Vision, n. [vísion] Vision. Pángitain, malikmatà. Visit, n. [vísit] Visita; visitacion. Pánauhin; dalaw. Visit, v. [vísit] Visitar. Dumalaw. Visitation, n. [visitécion] Visitacion, visita. Dalaw, pagdalaw. Visitor, n. [vísitor] Visitador. Bisita, pánauhin. Vista, n. [vista] Vista, perspectiva. Tánawin. Vital, adj. [váital] Vital. Buháy ó nauukol sa buhay. Vitality, n. [vaitáliti] Vitalidad. Kabuhayán, bisà. Vitiate, v. [víciet] Viciar, dañar. Sirain. Vitreous, adj. [vítrioes] Vítreo. Nauukol sa bubog. Vitrify, v. [vítrifai] Vitrificar. Gawíng bubog. Vituperate, v. [vitiúperet] Vituperar. Umalipustâ, lumait. Vivacious, adj. [vivácioes] Vivaz, despejado. Masigla, masayá. Vivacity, n. [vivásiti] Vivacidad. Sigla, kasiglahan, sayá. Vivid, adj. [vívid] Vivo, despejado. Buháy ang loob, masigla. Vivify, v. [vívifai] Vivificar. Buhayin, pasiglahin. Vixen, n. [vicsn] Mujer regañona, quimerista. Babaing magagalitín, palaaway. Vocable, n. [vócabl] Vocablo. Salitâ. Vocabulary, n. [vocábiulari] Vocabulario. Bokabularyo, munting aklat na tinutugmaan ng kahulugan ang mga karaniwang salitâ. Vocal, adj. [vócal] Vocal. Nauukol sa tingig. Vocation, n. [vokécion] Vocacion, oficio, profesion. Hilig, gawî, pagkabuhay, hanap-buhay. Vociferate, v. [vocíferet] Vociferar. Humiyaw, sumigaw. Vociferation, n. [vociferécion] Vocería, grito. Hiyaw, sigaw. Vociferous, adj. [vosíferes] Vocinglero, clamoroso. Maingay, búngangaan, palasigaw, palahiyaw. Vogue, n. [vog] Moda, boga. Kaugalian, moda. Voice, n. [vóis] Voz. Tingig, boses. Void, adj. [vóid] Vacio, nulo. Walang lamán, hungkág; walang kabuluhan. Void, n. [vóid] Vacuo, vacío. Ang bagay ó dakong walang lamán. Void, v. [vóid] Vaciar, desocupar. Alisán ng lamán. Volatile, adj. [vólatil] Volátil; voluble. Nakalilipad, manglilipad; sálawahan. Volcano, n. [volkéno] Volcan. Bolkán. Volley, n. [vóli] Descarga de armas de fuego, salva. Putok ng baríl ó kanyon. Volt, n. [volt] Vuelta [entre jinetes]. Pihit ng kabayo. Voluble, adj. [vóliubl] Voluble. Sálawahan. Volume, n. [vólium] Volumen, tomo. Tomo, bahagi [ng aklat]. Voluminous, adj. [vóliuminoes] Voluminoso, abultado. May maraming bahagi; malaké. Voluntary, adj. [vóluntari] Voluntario, espontáneo. Kusà, sinadyâ, ayon sa kalooban, bukal sa loob. Volunteer, n. [voluntír] Voluntario. Boluntaryo, kusà, bukal sa loob. Volunteer, v. [voluntír] Servir como voluntario. Maglingkod ng kusà. Voluptuary, adj. [volúpchiuari] Hombre voluptuoso. Taong malibog. Vomit, n. [vómit] Vómito. Suka. Vomit, v. [vómit] Vomitar. Sumuka. Voracious, adj. [vorécioes] Voraz. Matakaw, masibà. Voracity, n. [voráciti] Voracidad. Takaw, sibà. Vortex, n. [vórtecs] Remolino, torbellino. Ipoipo, ulìulì. Votary, adj. [vótari] El que ama apasionadamente alguna cosa. Sabík, takáw. Vote, n. [vot] Voto. Botos. Vote, v. [vot] Votar. Bumoto. Vouch, v. [váuch] Atestiguar, certificar. Sumaksí, magpatotoo. Voucher, n. [váucher] Testigo; documento justificativo. Saksí; katibayang patotoo. Vouchsafe, v. [vauchséf] Conceder, permitir. Pumayag, magpahintulot. Vow, n. [váu] Voto. Panata, pangakò. Vow, v. [váu] Dedicar ó consagrar á Dios; hacer voto. Tumalaga sa Dios; magpanata, mangakò. Vowel, n. [váuel] Vocal. Tingig. Voyage, n. [vóyedch] Navegacion. Pagdadagat, paglalayag, paglalakbay. Voyage, v. [vóyedch] Hacer un viaje por mar. Magdagát, maglayág, maglakbay. Volcano, n. [volkéno] Volcan. Bulkán. Vulgar, adj. [vúlgar] Vulgar, comun, ordinario. Karaniwan. Vulgarity, n. [volgáriti] Vulgaridad. Pagka-karaniwan. Vulnerable, adj. [vúlnerabl] Vulnerable. Tinatablán. Vulpine, adj. [vélpin] Zorruno, vulpino. Parang hayop na sor-ra, tuso. Vulture, n. [vúlchur] Buitre. Bwitre [malaking ibon]. W W, [dáblyu] W (doble-u). W (wa). Wabble, v. [wobl] Anadear. Magpalikawlikaw. Wad, n. [wad] Atado [de paja]. Bigkis [ng dayami]. Wad, v. [wad] Acolchar. Gawíng kolchon. Wadding, n. [wáding] Entretela. Panglaman sa pagitan ng káyo at aporo ng damít. Waddle, v. [wádl] Anadear. Magpalikawlikaw. Wade, v. [wed] Vadear. Tumawid. Wafer, n. [wéfer] Hostia, oblea. Tinapay na manipís. Waffle, n. [wáfl] Barquillos. Barkilyos, apa. Waft, v. [waft] Flotar. Lumutang. Wag, n. [wag] Burlon, bufon. Palabirô, mapagpatawá, púsong. Wag, v. [wag] Mover ligeramente. Pumagaypay. Wage, v. [wedch] Tentar, probar; hacer guerra. Sumubok; tikman; mangdigmà. Wager, n. [wédcher] Apuesta. Pustá. Wages, n. [wédches] Salario, paga. Bayad, upa, sahod. Waggle, v. [wágl] Anadear. Magpalikawlikaw. Wagon, n [wégon] Vagon, carro grande. Bagon, malaking karro. Waif, n. [wef] Bienes mostrencos. Pag aaring dî malaman kung kanino, na tuloy inaarì ng pámahalaan. Wail, n. [wel] Lamento, gemido. Panaghoy, daing, hibik. Wailing, n. [wéling] Lamento, gemido. Panaghoy, daing, hibik. Wainscot, n. [wénskot] Enmaderamiento de ensambladura. Piníd na kahoy. Waist, n. [wést] Cintura. Baywang. Waistcoat, n. [wéstcot] Chaleco. Chaleco. Wait, v. [wet] Esperar, aguardar. Maghintay, mag-antabay. Waiter, n. [wéter] Mozo de café ó taberna, sirviente. Lingkod ó alilà sa dulang. Waive, v. [wev] Abandonar, dejar. Pabayaan, iwan. Wake, n. [wek] Vela, vigilia; la acción de estar despierto; estela. Pagpupuyat; gisíng; bakas ng lakad ng sasakyan sa tubig. Wake, v. [wek] Velar; despertarse. Magpuyat; gumising. Wakeful, adj. [wékful] Despierto; Vigilante. Gisíng; maingat. Waken, v. [wekn] Despertar[se]. Gumising. Wale, n. [wel] Relieve. Guhit. Walk, n. [wok] Paseo. Lakad, pasyal, galà. Walk, v. [wok] Pasear, andar, caminar. Lumakad, maglakád, magpasyal, gumalà. Wall, n. [wol] Pared, muro, muralla. Pinid, dingding; pader; kutà. Wall, v. [wol] Emparedar; murar, cercar con muros. Magpiníd, magpader; gumawâ ng kutà. Wallet, n. [wólet] Alforjas, mochila. Supot. Wallow, v. [wólo] Encenegarse. Mápalumbak. Walnut, n. [wólnat] Nuez. Pilì. Waltz, n. [woltz] Vals. Balse [sayaw]. Wan, adj. [wan] Pálido, descolorido. Maputlâ, hilukâ. Wand, n. [wond] Vara divinatoria. Palitong pangsalamangká. Wander, v. [wónder] Errar, vagar. Maggalâ, lumaboy. Wanderer, n. [wónderer] Tunante, vagamundo. Palaboy, pagalagalà, humpas-lupà. Wandering, n. [wóndering] Paseos. Paglalakád, paggalâ. Wane, n. [wen] Decadencia, declinacion. Pagliit, pagkukulang. Wane, v. [wen] Menguar, disminuir, descrecer. Lumiit, magkulang, umuntî. Wanness, n. [wónnes] Palidez, languidez. Putlâ, hilukà. Want, n. [want] Necesidad, falta. Pangangailangan, kakulangan. Want, v. [want] Necesitar, haber menester, faltar. Mangailangan, magkailangan, magkulang. Wanting, adj. [wónting] Falto, necesitado. Kulang, nangangailangan. Wanton, n. [wónton] Lascivo, licencioso, retozon. Malibog, mahalay, landî, kirí. Wanton, v. [wónton] Retozar, juguetear. Lumandî, kumirí. War, n. [wor] Guerra. Digmà, pagbabaka. War, v. [wor] Guerrear. Dumigmà, bumaka. Warble, v. [worbl] Trinar, hacer quiebros con la voz. Kumantá na pinapanginginig ang tingig ó boses. Ward, n. [word] Guarda; defensa. Bantay, tanod; sanggalang. Ward, v. [word] Guardar; defender. Magbantay, tumanod; mágsanggalang. Warden, n. [wórden] Custodio, guardian. Tagaiwí, tagakandilì. Warder, n. [wórder] Guarda, guardia. Bantay, tanod. Wardrobe, n. [wórdrob] Guardaropa. Tagúan ng damit, aparador. Ware, n. [wer] Mercadería, generos que se venden. Mga sinamay ó kayo na ipinagbibilí. Warehouse, n. [wérjaus] Almacen. Almasen, tindahan. Warfare, n. [wórfer] Guerra; la vida del soldado. Digmà, pamumuhay ng kawal. Warily, adv. [wórili] Prudentemente, cautamente. Na may kabaitan, ng boong ingat. Wariness, n. [wórines] Cautela, prudencia. Ingat, baít. Warlike, adj. [wórlaic] Guerrero, belicoso. Mangdidigmà, ukol sa labanán. Warm, adj. [worm] Caliente. Mainit. Warm, v. [worm] Calentar. Magpainit. Warmth, n. [wormz] Calor. Init. Warn, v. [worn] Precaver, advertir. Pangusapan, pangunahan. Warning, n. [wórning] Amonestacion. Pangaral, páuna. Warp, v. [worp] Torcerse. Baluktutin, palikawlikawin. Warrant, n. [wórrant] Testimonio, justificacion. Patotoo, patunay. Warrant, v. [wórrant] Garantir, asegurar. Panagután, patunayan. Warrantable, adj. [wórrantabl] Justificable. Mapatototohanan. Warranty, n. [wórranti] Garantía, seguridad. Pangakò, pananagot, katibayan. Warrior, n. [wórrior] Guerrero, soldado. Mangdidigmà, kawal. Wart, n. [wort] Verruga. Kulugó. Warty, adj. [wórti] Verrugoso. Makulugó. Wary, adj. [wári] Cauto, prudente, avisado. Maingat, mabait, handâ. Wash, n. [wash] Lavadura. Labá, paghuhugas. Wash, v. [wash] Lavar, lavarse. Maglabá, maghugas. Washer-woman, n. [wásher-wuman] Lavandera. Labandera. Washy, adj. [wáshi] Húmedo, mojado. Halomigmig, basâ. Wasp, n. [wasp] Avispa. Putaktí. Waspish, adj. [wáspish] Enojadizo, caprichudo. Magagalitín, sumpúngin. Waste, adj. [west] Desolado, arruinado. Wasak, guhô, iláng. Waste, n. [west] Desperdicio, despilfarro. Tapon, labis. Waste, v. [west] Malgastar, destruir, arruinar. Sayangin, iwasak, sirain. Watch, n. [watch] Reloj; desvelo, vigilia. Relós, orasán; pagpupuyat, pagbabantay. Watch, v. [watch] Velar; guardar, custodiar. Magpuyat; magbantay, tumanod. Watchful, adj. [wátchful] Vigilante, cuidadoso. Maingat, maagap. Watchman, n. [wátchmen] Sereno, guarda. Bantay, tanod. Watchword, n. [wátchwerd] Seña. Hudyatan. Water, n. [wáter] Agua. Tubig. Water, v. [wáter] Regar; chorrear agua. Diligin; magwisík. Waterfall, n. [wáterful] Cascada. Bagsákan ng tubig. Watering, n. [wátering] Riego. Pagdidilig. Watermelon, n. [wátermelon] Zandía. Pakwan. Watering-pot, n. [wátering-pot] Regadera. Pangdilig. Water-spout, n. [wáter-spaut] Bomba marina. Búhawi. Water-tight, adj. [wáter-tait] Impermeable. Dî tinatagos ng tubig. Watery, adj. [wáteri] Acuoso. Matubig. Wave, n. [wev] Ola, onda. Alon, daluyon. Wave, v. [wev] Ondear; fluctuar. Umalon, mag-inalón, pumagaspás. Waver, v. [wéver] Vacilar, balancear. Mag-álanganin, mag-urong-sulóng. Wavering, adj. [wévering] Inconstante. Sálawahan. Wavy, adj. [wévi] Ondeado. Maalon. Wax, n. [wacs] Cera. Pagkít. Wax, v. [wacs] Encerar. Pagkitín. Waxen, adj. [wacsn] De cera. Yaring pagkit. Way, n. [we] Camino, via, ruta. Daan, lansangan, landas. Wayfarer, n. [wéferer] Pasajero, viajador, caminante. Ang nagdadaan, ang naglalakad, ang naglalakbay. Waylay, v. [wéle] Insidiar, acechar. Harangin, abangán. Wayside, n. [wésaid] Acera. Tabí ng daan. Waymark, n. [wémark] Mojon. Patoto. Wayward, adj. [wéward] Caprichoso. Sungpúngin. We, pron. [wi] Nosotros, nosotras. Tayo, kamí. Weak, adj. [wic] Debil, flojo. Mahinà, mahunâ, marupok. Weaken, v. [wicn] Debilitar, enflaquecer. Manghinà, manglatâ. Weakness, n. [wíknes] Debilidad, fragilidad. Hinà, kahinaan, dupok, karupukan. Weal, n. [wil] Prosperidad, felicidad. Kaginghawahan, kagalingan. Wealth, n. [welz] Riqueza. Yaman, kayamanan. Wealthy, adj. [wélzi] Rico, opulento. Mayaman, masalapî. Wean, v. [win] Destetar. Ihiwalay sa suso. Weapon, n. [wípn] Arma. Almás, sakbát na panglaban. Wear, n. [wer] Uso. Paggamit. Wear, v. [wer] Usar, llevar. Gamitin, isuot. Weariness, n. [wírines] Cansancio, fatiga. Págod, pagal, kapaguran, kapagalán. Wearisome, adj. [wírisam] Pesado, fastidioso. Nakayayamot, nakagagalit. Weary, adj. [wíri] Cansado; fastidiado. Pagód, napapagál; yamót. Weary, v. [wíri] Cansar, fatigar; molestar. Pumagod, mamagod; yumamót. Weather, n. [wédzer] Tiempo. Panahon. Weave, v. [wiv] Tejer. Humabi, maglalá, magsalá. Weaver, n. [wíver] Tejedor. Manghahabi. Web, n. [web] Telaraña. Bahay-gagambá, lawà. Wed, v. [wed] Contraer matrimonio. Mag-asawa. Wedding, n. [wéding] Boda, nupcias. Kasál, pag-aasawa. Wedge, n. [wedch] Cuña [para partir leña]. Sangkalan, kalang. Wedlock, n. [wédloc] Matrimonio. Kasál. Wednesday, n. [wédnesde] Miercoles. Myerkoles. Weed, n. [wid] Mala yerba. Damong masamâ, damong hímatmatin. Week, n. [wik] Semana. Sanglinggó. Week day, n. [wík de] Dia de trabajo. Araw na simple, araw na dî pangilin. Weekly, adj. [wíkli] Semanal. Lingguhan. Weekly, adv. [wíkli] Semanalmente. Linggólinggó. Weep, v. [wip] Llorar; lamentar. Umiyak, tumangis, tumaghoy. Weevil, n. [wívl] Gorgojo. Bukbok. Weigh, v. [we] Pesar. Timbangín. Weight, n. [wet] Peso, pesadez. Timbang, bigat. Weighty, adj. [wéti] Ponderoso, pesado; importante. Dakilà; mabigat; mahalagá. Weir, n. [wer] Azud. Pangharang ng tubig. Welcome, adj. [welcam] Bien venido, bien llegado. Maligayang pagdating. Welcome, n. [welcam] Bienvenida. Salubong na magiliw. Welcome, v. [welcam] Dar la bienvenida á alguno. Sumalubong ng magiliw. Weld, v. [weld] Soldar el hierro. Maghinang ng bakal. Welfare, n. [wélfer] Prosperidad, bienestar. Kaginghawahan, kagalingan. Welkin, n. [wélkin] Firmamento, cielo. Langit. Well, adj. [wel] Bueno, sano. Mabuti, magaling. Well, adv. [wel] Bien. Magaling, walang dinaramdam. Well, n. [wel] Pozo, fuente, manantial.. Balón, bukál, bálong. Well, v. [wel] Manar. Bumukal, bumalong. Well-being, n. [wélbiing] Felicidad, bienestar. Kaginghawahan, kagalingan. Well-bred, adj. [wélbred] Bien criado, cortés. Mabuting turò, magalang. Well-favored, adj. [welfévord] Hermoso, bien parecido. Magandá, mabuting anyô. Welt, n. [welt] Ribete. Tutóp, lupì. Welt, v. [welt] Ribetear. Tutupán, ilupì. Welter, v. [wélter] Revolcarse en agua ó lodo. Maglubalób, gumumon. Wen, n. [wen] Lobanillo. Pigsá. Wench, n. [wench] Moza, muchacha. Alilang babae. Wend, v. [wend] Rodear. Ligirin. West, adj. & n. [west] Occidental; occidente. Kanluran, kalunuran. Westerly, adj. [wésterli] Occidental. Kanluran, kalunuran. Western, adj. [wéstern] Occidental. Kanluran, kalunuran. Westward, adv. [wéstward] Hácia occidente. Sa dakong kanluran, sa gawíng kalunuran. Wet, adj. [wet] Húmedo, mojado. Basâ, halomigmig. Wet, n. [wet] Humedad. Ang basâ. Wet, v. [wet] Mojar, humedecer. Basáin, papaghalomigmigín. Wetness, n. [wétnes] Humedad. Pagkabasâ. Whale, n. [juel] Ballena. Balyena. Wharf, n. [juorf] Muelle, embarcadero. Mwelye, daungán. What, pron. [juat] Que, el que, la que, lo que. Ano; ang. Whatever, pron. [juatéver] Cualquier, cualquiera cosa. Anoman, alinman. Whatsoever, pron. [juatsoéver] Cualquier, cualquiera cosa. Anoman, alinman. Wheat, n. [juít] Trigo. Trigo. Wheaten, adj. [juítn] Hecho de trigo. May trigo. Wheedle, v. [juídl] Halagar, acariciar, engañar con lisonja. Pumuri ng pakunwâ, manghibò, tumuyâ. Wheel, n. [juil] Rueda. Gulóng. Wheel, v. [juil] Rodar. Gumulong. Wheeler, n. [juíler] El que hace ruedas. Manggagawâ ng gulong. Wheeze, v. [juíz] Jadear. Humingal. Whelm, v. [juélm] Cubrir. Tasakan. Whelp, n. [juélp] Cachorro. Tuta. When, adv. [juén] Cuando. Kaylan; ng, noong. Whence, adv. [juéns] De donde ó desde donde. Kung saan, na siyang. Whence-so-ever, adv. [juensóever] De donde quiera que, siempre que. Kahi't saan, kaylan ma't ... Where, adv. [juer] Donde. Saan. Whereabout, adv. [juerébaut] Hácia donde. Kung saan. Whereas, adv. [juerás] Por cuanto, pues que, ya que. Kayâ, anopa't ... Whereat, adv. [juerát] Á lo cual. Dahil dito, sa dahilang ito. Wherefore, adv. [juérfor] Por lo que, por cuyo motivo. Kayâ, dahil dito. Whereof, adv. [jueróf] De lo cual. Sa ganyan, sa bagay na iyan. Wheresoever, adv. [juersoéver] Donde quiera, en cualquiera parte que. Kahi't saanman, saa't saan mang ... Whereto, adv. [juertú] Á lo que, á que. Na saan man. Whereunto = Whereto. Wherever, adv. [jueréver] Donde quiera que, por donde quiera que. Kahi't saan, saan man. Whereupon, adv. [juerapón] Sobre que, entonces. Sa bagay na iyan, ngà. Wherewith, adv. [juerwíz] Con que, con lo cual. Na siyang. Whet, v. [juét] Afilar, amolar. Patalasin, ihasà. Whether, conj. [juédzer] Si, sea, sea que. Kung, magíng, kahi't. Whetstone, n. [juétston] Aguzadera. Hasáan. Whey, n. [juey] Suero. Lagnáw. Which, pron. [juich] Cual, que. Alin, ang. Whichsoever, pron. [juichsoéver] Cualquiera. Alin man. Whiff, n. [juíf] Vaharada, bocanada de humo. Singáw, sigalbó ng usok, bugá ng usok. While, adj. [juáil] Mientras, entretanto. Samantalà, habang ... While, n. [juáil] Rato, vez. Sangdalî. Whim, n. [juim] Antojo, capricho. Sumpóng, kapricho. Whimper, v. [juímper] Sollozar, gemir. Dumaíng, humibík. Whimsical, adj. [juímsical] Caprichoso. Sumpúngin. Whine, n. [juáin] Quejido, lamento. Daing, panaghoy. Whine, v. [juáin] Llorar, lamentar. Umiyak, tumaghoy. Whinny, v. [juíni] Relinchar. Magsingasíng. Whip, n. [juíp] Látigo. Látigo, panghagupít. Whip, v. [juíp] Azotar. Hagupitín. Whirl, n. [juerl] Giro muy rapido. Ikot, ikit, inog. Whirl, v. [juerl] Girar, dar vueltas en círculo. Umikot, umikit, uminog. Whirligig, n. [juérligig] Perinola. Prinola. Whirlpool, n. [juérlpul] Remolin. Ulìulì, ipoipo. Whirlwind, n. [juérlwind] Torbellino, remolino. Búhawì, ipoipo. Whisk, n. [juisk] Cepillo. Sepilyo. Whisker, n. [juísker] Bigote, mostacho. Bigote. Whiskey, n. [juíski] Whiske, una especie de aguardiente. Wiske [alak]. Whisper, v. [juísper] Cuchichear, hablar al oido. Bumulong, umanás, magsalitâ ng paanás. Whistle, n. [juísl] Silbido, silbato;... el silbido de los vientos. Sutsót, tunog ng pito; hugong ng hangin. Whistle, v. [juísl] Silbar; llamar á alguno dando silbidos. Sumutsot, tumawag sa sutsót. Whit, n. [juít] Ápice, algo, un poco. Katitíng, kapyangót, kaontî. White, adj. [juáit] Blanco, cano. Maputî. Whiten, v. [juáitn] Blanquear, emblanquecerse. Paputiin, magpaputî. Whitish, adj. [juáitish] Blanquisco. Maputîputî. Whiteness, n. [juáitnes] Blancura. Putî, kaputian. White wash, n. [juáit-wash] Blanquete. Pangpaputî. Whither, adv. [juídzer] Adonde, donde. Saan. Whithersoever, adv. [juidzersoéver] Adonde quiera. Kahi't saan man. Whitlow, n. [juítlo] Panadizo. Pamamagà ng dalirì; panghihilukà. Whittle, v. [juítl] Cortar con navaja. Kayasin. Whiz, v. [juiz] Zumbar, silbar. Humaginít, humaging. Who, pron. [ju] Quien, que. Sino, sinosino. Whoever, pron. [juéver] Quienquiera que. Sinoman, kahi't sino. Whole, adj. [jul] Todo, sano. Lahat, buô, magaling. Whole, n. [jul] Entero, total. Kabuoan, kalahatan. Wholesale, n. [júlsel] Venta por mayor. Pakyawan. Wholesome, adj. [júlsam] Sano, saludable. Magalíng, makabubuti ng katawan. Wholy, adv. [júli] Cabalmente, totalmente. Buongbuô, lahat-lahat. Whoop, v. [jup] Gritar, vocear. Humiyaw, sumigaw. Whore, n. [jwor] Puta. Masamang babae, putá. Why, adv. [juáy] Porque. Bakit. Wick, n. [wic] Pábilo. Michá. Wicked, adj. [wíked] Malvado, perverso, inicuo. Masamâ, balakyot. Wickedness, n. [wíkednes] Maldad, perversidad. Kasamaan, kabalakyutan. Wicket, n. [wíket] Portillo, postigo. Pintô, pituan. Wide, adj. [wáid] Ancho, vasto. Malapad, malwang, malwag. Widely, adv. [wáidli] Lejos, extensamente. Malayò, malawak. Widen, v. [wáiden] Ensanchar, extender. Laparan, lwangan, lwagán. Wideness, n. [wáidnes] Anchura, extención. Lapad, lwang, lwag. Widow, n. [widó] Viuda. Baong babae. Widower, n. [wídoer] Viudo. Baong lalake. Widowhood, n. [wídojud] Viudez, viudedad. Pagkabao, kabauhan. Width, n. [widz] Anchura. Lapad, lwang. Wield, v. [wild] Manejar. Mamahalà. Wife, n. [wáif] Esposa, consorte. Asawa (babae). Wifely, adj. [wáifli] Como mujer casada. Parang babaing may asawa. Wig, n. [wig] Peluca. Piluka. Wild, adj. [wáild] Feroz, silvestre. Mabangís, mailáp. Wilderness, n. [wíldernes] Desierto. Iláng. Wildness, n. [wáildnes] La calidad de ser feroz. Iláp. Wile, n. [wáil] Dolo, engaño. Hibò, dayà. Wilful, adj. [wílful] Voluntario. Kusà, sadyâ. Wilfully, adj. [wílfuli] Voluntariamente. Kinusà, sinadyâ. Will, n. [wil] Voluntad, albedrio. Kalooban. Will, v. [wil] Querrer, desear. Ibigin, nasain. Willingly, adv. [wílingli] Voluntariamente. Ng boong kalooban. Wimble, n. [wímbl] Berbiquí. Pangbutas. Win, v. [win] Ganar. Manalo. Wince, v. [wins] Cocear. Magsikád. Wind, n. [wind] Viento; aire. Hangin. Wind, v. [wáind] Dar llave (al relój). Susian (ang relos). Wind-mill, n. [wàind-mil] Molino de viento. Gilingáng pinipihit ng hangin. Window, n. [wíndo] Ventana. Bintanà, dungawán. Windy, adj. [wíndi] Ventoso. Mahangin. Wine, n. [wáin] Vino. Alak. Wing, n. [wing] Ala. Pakpák. Winged, adj. [wingd] Alado; lo que vuela. May pakpak, nakalilipad. Wink, n. [wink] Pestañeo, guiño. Kindat, kisap mata. Wink, v. [wink] Guiñar. Kumindat. Winner, n. [wíner] Ganador, vencedor. Ang nanalo, ang nagwagí. Winning, n. [wíning] Ganancia, lucro. Panalunan, pakinabang. Winnow, v. [wíno] Aventar. Magpahangin. Winsome, adj. [wínsam] Alegre, jovial. Masayá, magaan ang katawan. Winter, n. [wínter] Invierno. Tagginaw, taglamíg. Winterly, adj. [wínterli] Brumal, invernal. Nauukol sa tagginaw. Wipe, v. [wáip] Limpiar, borrar. Linisin, pahirin. Wire, n. [wáir] Alambre. Kawad. Wiry, adj. [wáiri] Hecho de alambre. Yaring kawad. Wisdom, n. [wísdom] Sabiduría. Dunong, karunungan. Wise, adj. [wáis] Sabio, docto. Marunong, pantás, pahám. Wish, n. [wish] Deseo, anhelo, ansia. Nasà, nais, pita, hangad. Wish, v. [wish] Desear, anhelar, ansiar. Magnasà, magnais, pumita, maghangad. Wishful, adj. [wíshful] Deseoso, ansioso. Sabík, naghahangad. Wisp, n. [wisp] Manojo de heno. Bigkis ng dayami. Wistful, adj. [wístful] Atento. Maingat. Wit, n. [wit] Entendimiento, ingenio. Pag-iisip, talas ng isip. Witch, n. [witch] Bruja, hechicera. Manggagaway, húkluban, mangkukulam. Witch, v. [witch] Hechizar, maleficiar. Manggaway, gawayin. Witchcraft, n. [wítchcraft] Brujería, hechicería. Panggagaway, pangkukulam. Witchery = Witchcraft. With, prep. [wiz] Con. Ng, sa pamamagitan ng; kasama ng ó kasama ni. Withal, adv. [wizól] Además, á más de esto; tambien. Bukod dito; rin naman, gayon din. Withdraw, v. [wizdró] Quitar, privar; retirar, apartar. Alisin, bawian; iurong, ilayô, ihiwalay. Withe, n. [wiz] Mimbre. Baging na pamigkís. Wither, v. [wídzer] Marchitarse, secarse. Malantá, matuyot. Withhold, v. [wizjóld] Detener, impedir, contener. Pigilin, hadlangan, sawatain. Within, prep. [wizín] Dentro, adentro. Sa loob. Without, prep. [wizáut] Sin. Walâ. Without, adv. [wizáut] Por afuera. Sa labás. Withstand, v. [wiztánd] Resistir. Lumaban, mananggaláng. Witless, adj. [wítles] Necio, tonto. Hangal, ungás. Witness, n. [wítnes] Testigo. Saksí. Witness, v. [wítnes] Atestiguar, testificar. Sumaksí. Witted, adj. [wíted] Ingenioso. Matalinò. Witty, adj. [wíti] Chistoso, gracioso. Mapagpatawá, mapagsisté. Wizard, n. [wízard] Brujo, hechicero. Manggagaway, húkluban. Woe, n. [wo] Dolor, pena; miseria. Sakít, antak; hirap. Woeful, adj. [wóful] Triste, afligido. Mapanglaw, malungkot, matamlay. Wolf, n. [wolf] Lobo. Lobo (hayop na mabangís). Woman, n. [wúman] Mujer. Babae. Womanhood, n. [wúmanjud] Estado de mujer. Pagkababae. Womanish, adj. [wúmanish] Mujeril. Binabae. Womankind, n. [wúmankaind] El sexo femenino. Pagkababae. Womanly, adv. [wúmanli] Mujeril. Parang babae. Womb, n. [womb] Matriz. Bahay batà. Wonder, n. [wónder] Maravilla, admiracion. Kababalaghan, kagilalasan. Wonder, v. [wónder] Maravillarse de, admirarse. Manggilalás, magtaká, mámanghâ. Wonderful, adj. [wónderful] Maravilloso, admirable. Katakataká, kagilagilalás. Wondrous, adj. [wóndres] Admirable, maravilloso. Nakapanggigilalás, nakapagtataká. Wont, n. [wont] Uso, costumbre. Ugalì, kaugalian. Woo, v. [wu] Cortejar, requerir de amores. Mangligaw, mangibig. Wood, n. [wud] Bosque, selva; madera, leña. Gubat; kahoy. Woodman, n. [wúdman] Cazador; guardabosque. Mángangaso; bantay-gubat. Wool, n. [wul] Lana. Lana, balahibo ng tupa. Woolen, adj. [wúlen] Hecho de lana. Yaring lana. Wooly, adj. [wúli] Lanudo, lanoso. Malana, mabalabibo ng tupa. Word, n. [woerd] Palabra. Salitâ. Wordy, adj. [wérdi] Verboso. Masalitâ. Work, n. [woerk] Trabajo, obra. Gawâ, trabaho, yarì; kathâ. Work, v. [woerk] Trabajar, obrar. Gumawâ, magtrabaho. Worker, n. [wérker] Trabajador, obrero. Manggagawà. Work-house, n. [wérkjaus] Fábrica, taller. Bahay-gáwaan. Workman, n. [wérkman] Artífice, labrador. Manggagawà. Workmanship, n. [wérkmanship] Manufactura. Yarì ng manggagawà. Workshop, n. [wérksiop] Taller. Gáwaan. World, n. [woerld] Mundo, globo terrestre. Sangdaigdigan, sangtinakpan, mundó. Worldliness, n. [wérldlines] Vanidad mundana. Kalayawan. Worldling, n. [wérldling] Hombre mundano. Taong lupà. Worldly, adj. [wérldli] Mundano, terreno. Ukol sa lupà. Worm, n. [worm] Gusano. Uod. Worm-eaten, adj. [worm-itn] Carcomido, apolillado, roido. Binubukbok, may bukbok. Worry, v. [wóri] Molestar, atormentar. Abalahin, bagabagin, pahirapan. Worse, adj. [wers] Peor. Lalong masamâ. Worship, n. [wórship] Culto, adoracion. Pagsambá. Worship, v. [wórship] Adorar, dar culto. Sumambá. Worshipful, adj. [wórshipful] Venerable, respetable. Kagalanggalang, kapitapitagan. Worst, adj. [werst] Lo peor, lo mas malo. Kásamasamaan, pinaka masamâ. Worth, n. [werz] Valor, precio. Halagá, kabuluhán. Worthily, adj. [wérzili] Dignamente. Karapatdapat. Worthiness, n. [wérzines] Dignidad, mérito. Karapatan, kaukulán. Worthless, adj. [wérzles] Indigno de ningun valor. Dî marapat, walang halagá, walang kabuluhan. Worthy, adj. [wérzi] Digno, benemérito. Marapat, bagay. Wound, n. [wund] Llaga, herida. Sugat, tagâ, hiwà. Wound, v. [wund] Herir. Sumugat, manugat. Wrangle, n. [rángl] Riña. Labanán, káalitan. Wrangle, v. [rángl] Reñir, disputar. Makipaglaban, makipagkaalit, makipagtalo, makipagtakapan. Wrap, v. [rap] Arrollar, envolver. Balutin, bilutin. Wrapper, n. [ráper] Envolvedero. Balutan. Wrath, n. [raz] Rabia, ira, cólera. Pag-iinit, galit, poot. Wrathful, adj. [rázful] Furioso, irritado. Inít, galít. Wreak, v. [ric] Vengar. Manghigantí. Wreath, n. [riz] Corona, girnalda. Putong, korona, bulaklak na ginawang korona. Wreath, v. [riz] Coronar, enroscar, torcer. Iputong, papaglikawlikawin. Wreck, n. [rec] Naufragio. Pagkabagbag, pagkalubog. Wreck, v. [rec] Naufragar. Mabagbag, málubog. Wren, n. [ren] Reyezuelo. Batis. Wrench, n. [rench] Torcedura del pie. Balingangà. Wrench, v. [rench] Dislocar; arrancar. Mabalingangà; hugutin. Wrest, v. [wrest] Arrancar, quitar á fuerza. Agawin, dahasín. Wrestle, v. [wresl] Luchar, disputar. Makipagbunô, makipaglaban. Wrestling, n. [wrésling] Lucha. Bunô, labanán. Wretch, n. [rétch] Pobre, infeliz, hombre muy miserable. Abâ, kawawà. Wretched, adj. [réched] Infeliz, miserable. Kawawà, hamak. Wriggle, v. [rígl] Menear, agitar. Galawin, alugin, luglugin. Wright, n. [ráit] Artífice, artesano, obrero. Manggagawà, tagagawâ. Wring, v. [wring] Torcer, estrujar. Baluktutin, baliin. Wrinkle, n. [wrínkl] Arruga. Kulubot; kunot. Wrinkle, v. [wrínkl] Arrugar. Mangulubot, mangunot. Wrist, n. [wrist] Muñeca. Galanggalangan. Wrist-band, n. [wríst-band] Puño de camisa. Manggas ng barò. Writ, n. [writ] Escrito, escritura. Sulat, kasulatán. Write, v. [ráit] Escribir. Sumulat. Writer, n. [raíter] Escritor. Mánunulat. Writhe, v. [ráiz] Encorvar. Yumukô. Writing, n. [ráiting] Escritura. Sulat, pagsulat. Wrong, adj. [rong] Errado. Malî. Wrong, n. [rong] Error, culpa. Kamalian, sala. Wrong, v. [rong] Agraviar, injuriar. Umapí, lumapastangan. Wrongful, adv. [róngful] Injusto, inicuo. Likô, lisyâ, masamâ. Wroth, adj. [roz] Enojado. Galít. Wry, adj. [rai] Torcido. Pilipít. Wry, v. [rai] Torcer. Pilipitin. X Xebec, n. [zíbec] Jabeque. Isang urì ng sasakyan sa dagat Mediteráneo. Xmas, n. [krísmas] Natividad. Paskó. Xoana, n. [zoána] Imágenes grabadas. Mga lilók na larawan. Xylographer, n. [zailógrafer] Grabador en madera. Manglililók sa kahoy. Xylography, n. [zailógrafi] El arte de grabar en madera. Paglililók sa kahoy. Xyster, n. [zíster] Instrumento quirúrgico para raer y raspar los huesos. Kasangkapan ng manggagamot na pangkayas ó pangkayod ng butó. Y Y, [wai] Y (i griega). Y (ya). Yacht, n. [yot] Yate. Bangkang ingglés na may layag. Yam, n. [yam] Batata. Kamoteng dilaw. Yankee, n. [yankí] Natural de los Estados Unidos. Taga Estados Unidos. Yard, n. [yard] Yarda; corral, patio de una casa. Yarda, bara; loobán. Yarn, n. [yarn] Hilo de lino; estambre. Hilachá ó hiblá ng lino; estambre. Yawn, n. [yon] Bostezo. Hikáb. Yawn, v. [yon] Bostezar. Maghikab. Ye, pron. [yi] Vosotros. Kayó. Yea, adv. [yi] Sí, ciertamente. Oo, siyangà. Yean, v. [yin] Parir [la oveja]. Manganak [ang tupa]. Year, n. [yir] Año. Taón. Yearling, n. [yírling] El animal que tiene un año. Hayop na íisang taon ang gulang. Yearly, adj. [yírli] Anual. Táunan, sangtaunan. Yearly, adv. [yírli] Anualmente. Taóntaón. Yearn, v. [yirn] Compadecerse. Mahabag, maawà. Yearning, n. [yírning] Compasión. Habag, awà. Yeast, n. [yist] Fermento. Pangpahilab. Yelk, n. [yolk] Yema de huevo. Pulá ng itlog. Yell, n. [yel] Aullido, alarido. Kahol, tahol; angal, ungal. Yell, v. [yel] Aullar, dar alaridos. Umangal, umungal. Yellow, adj. [yeló] Amarillo. Dilaw, madilaw. Yellowish, adj. [yéloish] Amarillento. Naninilaw. Yellowness, n. [yélones] Amarillez. Kadilawan, paninilaw. Yelp, v. [yelp] Latir. Tumibok. Yerk, n. [yerk] Ímpetu. Pusok, kabiglaanan. Yerk, v. [yerk] Tirar coces un caballo. Magsikád ó magtatadyak [ang kabayo]. Yes, adv. [yes] Sí. Oo, opò. Yesterday, adv. [yésterde] Ayer. Kahapon. Yet, adv. [yet] Ademas, aún. Sakâ, pa. Yet, conj. [yet] Con todo, sin embargo. Gayon man, kahiman. Yield, v. [yild] Dar, producir; ceder, admitir, condescender. Magbigay, magbunga; pumayag, pahinuhod. Yoke, n. [yok] Yugo, yunta. Pamatok; atang. Yoke, v. [yok] Uncir. Isingkaw. Yokemate, n. [yókmet] Compañero en los trabajos. Kasama sa pagpapagal. Yolk, n. [yok] Yema de huevo. Pulá ng itlog. Yon, adv. [yon] Allí, alla. Diyan, doon. Yonder, adv. [yónder] Allí, alla. Diyan, doon. Yore, adv. [yor] En los tiempos de entonces. Noong una, noong araw. You, pron. [yu] Tú, V., usted, Vosotros, Vdes. ustedes; á tí, á usted; á vosotros, á ustedes. Ikaw, kayó; sa iyo, sa inyo. Young, adj. [yoúng] Joven, mozo. Batà, binatà. Youngish, adj. [yoúnguish] Mozuelo, tierno. Batábatâ pa. Youngster, n. [yoúngster] Jovencito, joven. Binatà. Your(s), pron. [yur(s)] Vuestro, os; de Vd., de Vdes. Iyo, inyo, mo, ninyo. Yourself, pron. [yúrself] Tú mismo; Vd. mismo. Ikaw rin; kayo rin. Youth, n. [yuz] Juventud, mocedad. Pagkabinatà, kabagungtauhan, pagka-bagongtao. Youthful, adj. [yúzful] Juvenil. Parang binatà, tila bagongtao. Yule, n. [yul] Navidad, tiempo de Pascua. Paskó. Yux, n. [yecs] Hipo. Sinók. Z Zeal, n. [zil] Zelo, fervor. Sikap, masakit. Zealot, n. [zílot] Celador. Tagapagsikap. Zealous, adj. [zéloes] Zeloso. Masikap, mapagmasakit. Zealousness, n. [zélesnes] La propiedad de ser zeloso. Sikap, masákit. Zenith, n. [zíniz] Zenit. Senit; ang tapát ng ulo sa itaas. Zephyr, n. [zéfir] Céfiro. Hanging palaypalay. Zero, n. [zíro] Zero. Sero. Zest, n. [zest] Siesta. Kainitan, katanghalian. Zigzag, adj. [zígzag] Lo que está en una linea interrumpida con irregularidades á uno y otro lado. Palikolikô, pasuotsuót. Zinc, n. [zinc] Zinc. Siin. Zodiac, n. [zódiac] Zodíaco. Lakad ng araw. Zone, n. [zon] Zona. Pook. Zoolatry, n. [zoólatri] El culto y adoracion de los animales. Pagsamba sa hayop. Zoology, n. [zoólodchi] Zoología. Ang kaalaman tungkol sa mga kahoy. Zymology, n. [zaimólodchi] Zimología. Ang kaalaman sa pagpapahilab. 
50797	----	Gutenberg (This book was produced from scanned images of public domain material from the Google Books project.) UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS STUDIES IN LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE Vol. III May-November, 1917 Nos. 2-4 Board of Editors George T. Flom William A. Oldfather Stuart P. Sherman Published by the University of Illinois Under the Auspices of the Graduate School Urbana, Illinois Copyright, 1917 By the University of Illinois. TAGALOG TEXTS WITH GRAMMATICAL ANALYSIS PART I: TEXTS AND TRANSLATION PART II: GRAMMATICAL ANALYSIS PART III: LIST OF FORMATIONS AND GLOSSARY BY LEONARD BLOOMFIELD UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 1917 TABLE OF CONTENTS PART I PAGE Preface 9 List of Books and Articles consulted 13 Texts in Phonetic Transcription and Translation 16 PART II--GRAMMATICAL ANALYSIS A. PHONETICS 134 1. Distinctive sounds 134 2. Syllabication 138 3. Accentuation 141 B. SYNTAX 146 1. Sentence and word 146 a. Syntactic relations 146 b. Parts of speech 146 c. Static and transient words 147 d. Personal names 147 e. The object construction 148 f. Expressions of indefinite quantity 150 2. Subject and predicate 151 a. Non-predicative sentences 151 b. The subject 153 c. The predicate 153 d. Subordinate predications 159 e. Omission of predicate 160 3. Attributes 160 a. Conjunctive attributes 162 b. Disjunctive attributes 170 c. Local attributes 177 d. Absolute attributes 180 4. Serial groups 205 C. MORPHOLOGY 210 1. Composition 210 2. General features of word-formation 211 3. Description of formations 218 I. Primary groups (zero, pag-, pang-) 218 A. Simple static forms 218 (1) Root-words 218 (2) Doubling 223 (3) Reduplication 224 (4) Prefix pang- 224 B. Transients, abstracts, and special static words 226 (1) Active with -um- and abstract with pag- 226 (2) Active with mag- and abstract with pag- r 231 (3) Active with mang- and abstract with pang- r 239 (4) Special static words 241 (5) Direct passive, with -in 243 (6) Special static words 247 (7) Instrumental passive, with i- 247 (8) Special static words 250 (9) Local passive, with -an 250 (10) Special static words 257 II. Secondary groups 262 1. Prefix si- 262 2. Prefix paki- 263 3. Prefix ka- 265 (1) Simple static forms 265 (2) Normal transients, abstracts, and special static forms 268 (3) Additional transients, abstracts, and special static forms 280 4. Prefix pa- 298 (1) Simple static forms 299 (2) Normal transients, abstracts, and special static forms 301 (3) Transients and abstracts with pa- and ka- 309 5. Prefix pati- 313 III. Irregular derivatives 314 PART III LIST OF FORMATIONS 317 INDEX OF WORDS 320 CORRIGENDA 406 PREFACE This essay is purely linguistic in character and purpose. In taking phonetic notes on Tagalog I noticed that the pronunciation of the speaker to whom I was listening, Mr. Alfredo Viola Santiago (at present a student of architectural engineering in the University of Illinois) presented certain features of accentuation not mentioned in the descriptions familiar to me. With the intention of briefly describing these features, I took down more extensive notes and asked Mr. Santiago to tell me in Tagalog the stories of "The Sun" and "The Northwind and the Sun," used as models by the International Phonetic Association. The data so obtained showed that the features of accentuation I had observed were in part distinctive (expressive of word-meaning), and, further, that certain other features, which were but imperfectly described in the treatises I knew (so especially the use of the "ligatures"), appeared in Mr. Santiago's speech in a regular and intelligible manner. A more extensive study was thus indicated. The results of this study were subject to two obvious limitations. The utterances I had transcribed were either translations or isolated sentences, and I could not determine to what extent the features of Mr. Santiago's speech which I had observed were general in Tagalog. The former of these limitations was fully overcome when I asked Mr. Santiago to tell me connected stories. In addition to fortunate endowments of a more general kind Mr. Santiago possesses, as I found, that vivacity of intellect and freedom from irrelevant prepossessions which we seek and so rarely find in people whose language we try to study. This latter quality may be due in part to the fact that, as Mr. Santiago's education has been carried on entirely in Spanish and English, his speech-feeling for his mother-tongue has not been deflected by the linguistic, or rather pseudo-linguistic training of the schools, so familiar to us. However this may be, I cannot be grateful enough to Mr. Santiago (and I hope that the reader will join me in this feeling) for the intelligence, freshness, and imagination with which he has given us connected narratives in his native language,--stories he heard in childhood and experiences of his own and of his friends. It is to be hoped that some of these will be of interest to students of folk-lore (as, for instance, Nos. 9, 10, 11, the old Hindu fable in No. 4, and the Midas story, much changed, in No. 5); the texts are here given, however, only for their linguistic interest. The second limitation could not be overcome. As there exists at present no adequate description of the dialectal differentiation of Tagalog, nor even an adequate description of any one form of the language, I can make no definite statement as to the relation of Mr. Santiago's speech to other forms of Tagalog. What is here presented is, then, a specimen of the speech of an educated speaker from Mr. Santiago's home town, San Miguel na Matamés, Bulacán Province, Luzón. It would have been possible to include in the description the speech of at least one other educated Tagalog from a different region (uneducated speakers are unfortunately not within my reach), as well as such data as might be gathered from printed Tagalog books: I have refrained from this extension because, at the present state of our knowledge, a single clearly defined set of data is preferable to a necessarily incomplete attempt at describing the whole language in its local and literary variations. Comparison of literary Tagalog (chiefly the translation of José Rizal's "Noli me Tangere" by Patricio Mariano, Manila, Morales, 1913 [1]) shows that Mr. Santiago's speech is not far removed from it. In most cases where my results deviate from the statements of the Spanish grammars, the evidence of printed books (and not infrequently the internal evidence of the grammars themselves) shows that the divergence is due not to dialectal differences but to the fact that the grammars are the product of linguistically untrained observers, who heard in terms of Spanish articulations and classified in those of Latin grammar. This study presents, then, the first Tagalog texts in phonetic transcription and the first scientific analysis of the structure of the language [2]. Although the nature of the problem forbade the use of any material other than that obtained from Mr. Santiago, I have examined all the treatises on Tagalog accessible to me. No experience could show more clearly than the reading of these books the necessity of linguistic and especially phonetic training for anyone who wishes to describe a language. Not one of the works in the following list [3] contains an intelligible description of the pronunciation of Tagalog. The only general work of scientific value is the excellent second volume of P. Serrano Laktaw's dictionary. Much as one may admire the pioneer courage of Totanes and the originality of Minguella, these venerable men were as little able to describe a language as one untrained in botany is to describe a plant. Among the authors of monographs are several good names and one or two of the greatest in our science: nearly all of these authors mention the difficulty under which they labored for want of an adequate description of the language. LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES CONSULTED Alter, F. C., Über die tagalische Sprache. Wien 1803. Blake, F. R., Contributions to comparative Philippine Grammar. (Journal of the American Oriental Society, vols. 27, 28, 29, 30). Brandstetter, R., Tagalen und Madagassen, Luzern 1902. (= his Malayo-polynesiche Forschungen, ser. 2, no. 2). Conant, C. E., The names of the Philippine languages. (Anthropos, vol. 4). The pepet law in the Philippine languages. (Anthropos, vol. 7). de Coria, J., Nueva gramática tagalog. Madrid 1872. Cue-Malay, G., Frases usuales para la conversacion en español tagalo é ingles. Manila 1898. Doherty, D. J., The Tagalog language. (Educational Review, vol. 24). Durán, C. G., Manual de conversaciones en castellano tagalo é inglés. Manila 1900. Fernandez, D. E., Nuevo vocabulario ó manual de conversaciones en español, tagalo y pampango. Binondo 1901. Francisco [Blancas] de San Josef, Arte y Reglas de la lengua Tagala. Manila 1832. Garcia, F., at Herrera, V., Manga onang turo sa uikang inglés. Maynila 1902. Gaspar de San Agustin, Compendio de la Lengua Tagala. Manila 1879. Hévia Campomanes, J., Lecciones de gramática Hispano-Tagala. Manila 1872. 3d ed. 1883. 4th ed. 1888. von Humboldt, W., Die Kawi-Sprache, vol. 2, pp. 315 ff., 347 ff. (= Berlin Academy Transactions, 1832, vol. 3). Kern, J. H. C., Over zoogenaamde verbindingsklanken in het Tagala. (Bijdragen tot de taal-, land- en volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-Indië, ser. 3, vol. 11). Sanskritsche woorden in het Tagala. (ib., ser. 4, vol. 4). Kirk, May, The Baldwin primer. Tagalog edition. New York [1899 and 1902 copyright]. Lendoyro, C., The Tagalog language. Manila 1902. MacKinlay, W. E. W., A handbook and grammar of the Tagalog language. Washington 1905. Marre, A., Grammaire tagalog (Bijdragen, ser. 6, vol. 9). Merrill, E. D., A dictionary of the plant names of the Philippine Islands. Manila 1903. (Publications of the Bureau of Government Laboratories, Department of the Interior, Philippine Islands, no. 8). Miles, J., Método teórico-práctico y compendiado para aprender el lenguaje Tagálog. Barcelona 1887. Minguella, T., Ensayo de gramática Hispano-Tagala. Manila 1878. Método práctico para que los niños y niñas de las provincias tagalas aprendan á hablar Castellano. Manila 1886. Neilson, P. D., English-Tagalog Dictionary. Manila 1903. Tagalog-English Dictionary. Manila 1903. Nigg, C., Tagalog English and English Tagalog Dictionary. Manila 1904. de Noceda, J., y de Sanlucar, P., Vocabulario de la lengua Tagala. Manila 1860. Paglinawan, M., Balarilang Tagalog [on cover: Gramatikang Tagalog] Maynila 1910. Pardo de Tavera, T. H., Consideraciones sobre el origen del nombre de los números en Tagalog (La España oriental 1889). El Sánscrito en la lengua Tagalog. Paris 1887. Rizal, José, Die Transcription des Tagalog. (Translated by F. Blumentritt, Bijdragen, vol. 42). de los Santos, Domingo, Vocabulario de la lengua Tagala. Manila 1835 (reimpreso). Serrano, R., Diccionario de terminos comunes Tagalo-Castellano. Ed. 3. Binondo 1869. Nuevo diccionario manual Español-Tagalo. Manila 1872. Serrano Laktaw, P., Diccionario Hispano-Tagalog. Primera parte. Manila 1889. Diccionario Tagalog-Hispano. Segunda parte. Manila 1914. de Totanes, S., Arte de la lengua Tagala. Manila 1745. Sampaloc 1796. Manila 1850. Binondo 1865 (reimpreso). Wolfensohn, L. B., The infixes la, li, lo in Tagalog. (Journal of the American Oriental Society, vol. 27). I. TEXTS IN PHONETIC TRANSCRIPTION 1. ANG ULÒL NA UNGGÒ` AT ANG MARÚNONG NA PAGÒNG. Mínsan ang pagòng hábang nalìlígo sa ílog, ay nakàkíta syà nang isa ng púno-ng-ságing na lumùlútang at tinátangày nang ágos. Hiníla niya sa pasígan, dátapwat hindí nya madalà sa lúpa`. Dáhil díto tináwag nya ang kaybígan niya ng unggò` at iniyálay nyà ang kapútol nang púno-ng-ságing kung itátanim nyà ang kanyà ng kapartè. Tumangò` ang unggò` at hináte nilà sa gitnà` mulá sa magkábila ng dúlo ang púno nang ságing. Inangkìn nang unggò ang kapútol na máy manga dáhon, dáhil sa panukálà nya na iyòn ay tùtúbo na mabúti káy sa kapútol na wala ng dáhon. Nang makaraàn ang ila ng áraw, ang púno nang unggò` ay namatày, yámang ang sa pagòng ay tumúbo hanggàng sa magbúnga. Ang manga ságing ay nahinòg, dátapwat hindí maakyàt nang pagòng. Dahil díto tináwag nyà ang kanya ng kaybíga ng unggò` at inyálay nya ang ila ng búnga nang ságing kung àakyatin nyà ang púno`. Ang unggò` ay umakyàt at kumáin nang makàkáya. Sinábi nang pagòng: "Hulúgan mo akò." Dátapuwat isinagòt nang unggò`: "Balat màn at malinamnàm ay hindí kita hùhulúgan." Ang pagòng ay nagálit at nagsábug sya nang tinìk sa palígid nang púno`. Nang lumuksò ang unggò ay nátinik syà. Pinagbintangan nyà ang pagòng at kanya ng hinánap úpang parusáhan niyà. Nàhúli nya ang pagòng sa kabilà nang isa ng toòd. Sinábi nya sa pagòng: "Kità ay áki ng parùrusáhan. Mamíli ka sa dalawà. Dikdikìn kità sa lusòng o lunúrin kità sa ílog?" Ang marúnong na pagòng ay nagumpisà nang pagsisigàw at hinilìng nya sa unggò` na, kung maàáre`, ay dikdikìn siya sa lusòng. Dátapwat isinagòt nang unggò`: "Ibíbigay kò sa iyò ang parúsa na hindí mo gustò." At inihágis nya sa ílog ang pagòng. Nang dumápo ang pagòng sa túbig ay nagsisigàw sya at sinábi nyà sa unggò`: "Salámat, kaybígan. Itò ang áki ng tìráhan!" 2. ANG PAGTATAKBÚHAN NANG USÀ AT NANG SUSÒ`. Isà ng usà ng nangìngináin sa gúbat ay nakátagpò nang isa ng susò` na gumàgápang sa dáhon nang búho`. Ang usà ay naghintò nang pangingináin at pinagmasdàn nyà ang mabágal na paggápang nang susò`. Makaraàn ang ila ng sandalì` ay sinábi nyà sa susò`: "Ano ng hína mo ng lumákad! Bákit hindí ka magáral na lumákad nang matúlin? Gáya ko, akù y paráti ng nàhàhábul nang manga áso, dátapwat ang matúlin ko ng pagtakbò ay sya ng naglíligtàs sa ákin nang áki ng búhay. Dátapwat gáya mò, kung ikàw ay habúlin nang káhit anò ng kaáway, papáno ang mangyàyári sa iyo ng búhay? Pího ng ikàw ay màpàpatày." Pagkárinig nang susò` sa manga salità ng itò ay tiningnàn nya ang usà at kanya ng pinagarálan ang maínam nya ng pangangatawàn, ang kanya ng mahahába ng paà, at ang malalakàs nya ng lamàn. Iníbig nya na siya màn ay gaya rìn nang usà úpang siyà ay makatakbò nang matúlin. Dátapwat kanyà ng inakálà` na, kung pilítin nya na sya y tumakbò, ay hindí sya màhùhulè nang malakì sa usà. Sa gayòn ay isinagot nyà sa usà: "Ikàw ay mapangmatà. Hindí mo hinìhinálà` kung anò ang magágawa nang isa ng may matíbay na paggustò. Hinàhámon kità na makipagtakbúhan sa ákin mula ríto hanggàng sa ílog na nása bandà ng kalunúran mulà ríto." Ang usà ay tumáwa nang malakàs at isinagòt sa susò`: "Bákit mo inakála ng tàtalúnin mo akò? Sigúro ng ikàw ay magdàdáya`!" Isinagòt nang susò`, na hindí siya magdàdáya`, at, úpang máy-roo ng tumingìn sa kanilà at magìng hukòm sa kanila ng pagtatakbúhan, ay sinábi nyà na tumáwag silà nang isà sa manga kayibígan nilà, na sya ng magíging hukòm. Ang usà ay pumáyag, at tináwag nilà ang isa ng kálaw, úpang siya ng magìng hukòm. Nang magumpisà silà nang pagtakbò ay malakì ang nagìng pagkáhuli nang susò`. Sa kanyà ng pagtakbò ang usà ay nakáraàn nang isa ng mayábung na damúhan. Naghintú sya úpang mangináin, yámang malakì ang pagkáuna nya sa susò`. Binálak nyà na pagkátanaw nya na dumárating ang susò` ay tátakbo syà ng mulì`. Dátapuwat, nang sya y makapangináin, ay sinumpòng sya nang katàmáran. Natúlug sya sa panukálà na màgìgising syà bágo dumatìng ang susò`. Dátapwat, hábang sya y natùtúlog, ay nakaraàn ang susò`. Nang mágising syà ay malálim nà sa hápon. Tumakbo syà nang úbus-lakàs patúngu sa ílog, at doòn ay sinalúbong sya nang susò` at nang kanila ng hukòm na kálaw. "Ikàw ay talúnan," winíka pagdáka nang kanila ng hukòm. 3. ISÀ NG BIYÀRNES-SÀNTO. Si Hwàn at ang kanyà ng kaybíga ng si Pédro ay namámangká sa ílug patúngo sa báya-ng-Balíwag. Sa bangkà` ay máy-roon silà ng isà ng laráwan nang Krísto na kanila ng iniháhatid sa páre`, úpang magámit sa pagdadáus nang isa ng Pitù ng Wíka`. Si Hwàn ay sinìsiglàn nang tákot. Sinábi nya kay Pédro: "Ang táwu nátin sa bangkà` ay tadtàd nang súgat at hindí humíhingà. Sa akálà ko y patày ang táo ng iyàn. Baká táyu ang pagbintangàn nang pári ng áti ng paghàhatdàn sa kanyà." Isinagòt ni Pédro: "Sàsabíhin nátin sa kanyà na, nang màlúlan sa áti ng bangkà` ang táo ng itò y ganyan nà ang kanya ng anyò`. Táyu y marámi ng tagapagpatotoò, kanyá hwag kà ng matákot." Nang dumatìng sila sa páre`, ay ibinigày nila ang laráwan. Pinagsabíhan silà nang páre` na pumaroòn sila sa simbáhan kinàbukásan nang hápon, úpang makinìg nang sèrmon. Si Hwàn ay siniglà ng mulí nang tákot, sapagkàt hindí nya màpagkúro kung bákit íbig nang páre` na silà ay pása simbáhan. Paráti sya ng nakárinig nang manga táo ng kinumbidà sa simbáhan at doòn ay hinúli nang gwàrdya-sibìl. Dátapuwat hindí sya nagwíka nang anu màn kay Pédro, sapagkàt nàkìkíta nya na itò y walà ng tákot. Kinàbukásan nang hápun ay naparoòn sila sa simbáhan, at doòn ay nàkíta nilà ang isa ng Krísto ng nàpàpákù sa krùs. Winíkà ni Hwàn: "Ang táu ng yaòn, kung iyò ng natàtandaàn, ay sya náti ng inihatìd sa páre`. Mabúti táyo y dumoòn sa isa ng lugàr na hindí maáabut nang matà nang páre`." Kanyá silà ng dalawà ay naparoòn sa ilálim nang pùlpito, úpang doòn nilà pakinggàn ang sèrmon. Nagumpisà ang Syéti-Palábras, at ang párì ay dumárating nà sa bandà ng hulì nang kanya ng sèrmon. Winíkà nang pári sa kanya ng sèrmon: "Magsísi kayò sa inyù ng manga kasalánan, malulupìt na táo. Masdàn ninyò ang manga súgat na hiníwa ninyù sa katawàn nang áti ng Mànanákop." Pagkárinig nitò ni Hwàn ay sya y siniglà ng mulí nang tákot, sapagkàt inakálà nya na siya y nàpàpagbintangàn. Kanyà` ang ginawá nya ay umalìs sya sa ilálim nang pùlpito, hinaràp nya ang páre`, at sinábi nya: "Ámong, hindí po kamì ang sumúgat sa táo ng iyàn. Nang sya y ilúlan sa ámi ng bangkà`, ay sugatan nà sya antimáno." Pagkawíkà nya nitò ay bumalìk sya sa ilálim nang pùlpito. Hindí pinansìn nang párì` ang manga nárinig nya ng salità`, at ipinatúluy nya ang kanya ng sèrmon. "Dumating nà ang áraw na kayò ng manga makasalánan ay dápat magsipagsísi. Ang manga pintúan nang lángit ay nábuksan nà sa pagkamatày nang áti ng Mànanákop, at káhit na sínu ng makasalánan ay makapàpásuk sa lángit, kung sila y magsipagsísi. Dátapwat, kung hindí kayo magsipagsísi, ay màpàparusáhan kayò nang hírap na wala ng hanggàn sa manga apùy sa infyèrno, dahilàn sa manga hírap na ipinasákit ninyò sa áti ng Mànanákop. Masdàn ninyò ang kanyà ng katawàn na pumàpáwis nang dugò`, ang kanya ng paà t kamày na nàpàpáko sa krùs, at ang kanyà ng manga súgat mulá sa paà hanggàng úlo. Wala ng ibà ng nagpàpahírap sa kanyà at sumúgat sa kanyà ng mahàl na katawàn, kung hindí kayò, manga táwo ng makasalánan, at, kung hindí kayo magsipagsísi, ay mahùhúlug kayo sa infyèrno!" Si Hwàn ay hindí màpalagày, at inakálà nya na ang pári ay sinìsilakbuhàn nang gálit lában sa kanyà. Kanyà` hinarap nyà ng mulí ang páre`, at sinábi nya nang úbus-lakàs: "Ámong, sinábi ko na pò` sa inyò kanína na hindí ako kasále ng sumúgat sa táo ng iyán, kanyá hwag pò ninyo akò ng ipadalà sa impyèrno." Ang pári ay siniglàn nang malakì ng gálit, kanyá sinábi nya sa mangà nakíkinìg: "Anu ba kayò, manga ungàs na táo? Walá baga ní isa sa inyò na makaháwak sa táo ng itò úpang bigtihìn?" Pagkárinig nitò ni Hwàn ay tumakbo syà nang úbus-lakàs at sinagasáa ng walà ng patumanggà ang manga táo ng nàlùluhòd at umíiyàk sa pagsisísi nang kanilà ng kasalánan. Sinundan syà ni Pédro at silà ng dalawà ay nagtakbúhan nang wala ng hintò hanggàng sa dumatìng sila sa kanila ng báyan. At doòn ay ipinamalítà nila ang bútas-karáyum na niligtasàn nilà. 4. ANG KÚBA` AT ANG BULÀG. Isa ng kúba` at isa ng bulàg ay matálik na magkaybígan. Kung sila y naglálakàd ang kúba` ang umàákay sa bulàg. Ang bulàg namàn ay syà ng pumápasàn sa kúbà kung máy-roon silà ng mahírap na nilàlakáran, sapagkàt ang kúba` ay mahína` ang katawàn. Mínsan sila y nakáraàn nang isà ng púno-ng-nyòg. Íbig nila ng pumitàs nang búnga, dátapuwat hindí nila màláman kung síno sa kanilà ng dalawà ang áakyàt sa púnò`. Sinábi nang bulàg na hindí sya makaáakyàt, sapagkàt hindí nya màkìkíta kung alìn ang pìpitasín, yámang máy-roo ng manga múra ng búnga. Ang kúba` ay hindi rìn íbig umakyàt, dahilàn sa kanyà ng kahináan. Dátapuwat malakì ang pagkágusto nyà na kumáin nang nyòg. Kanyà`, sa katapusàn ay sinábi nya na siyà ang áakyàt. "Úpang huwag kà ng mànakáwan nang manga ilálaglag kò ng búnga, ay bìbilángin mo nang malakàs ang kalabùg sa lúpa nang manga búnga na ilálaglag kò, úpang áki ng matandaàn ang bílang." Ang kúba ay nagumpisà nang pagakyàt, dátapwat pangangalahátì nya ay nahúlug syà. "Isà!" ang sábi nang bulàg. Sinábi sa kanyà nang kúbà` na siyà ang kumalabòg at hindí ang búnga nang nyòg. Umakyàt sya ulè`. Pagkaraàn nang ila ng sandalì` ay nahúlog ulí sya. "Dalawà!" isinigàw nang bulàg. Ang kúba ay nagálit, at sinábi nya sa bulàg na syà ay maúlit. Winíkà nya: "Iyo ng úna ng kumalabòg ay akò, ang ikalawà ay ako rìn. Kanyà`, wala pà ng niyòg akò ng nàpìpitàs." Dátapuwat ang bulàg ay nagakála ng gawì ng katatawanàn ang pagkahúlog nang kúba`. Kanyá binálak nya na, kung makárinig syà ulè nang kalabòg, ay sísigaw syà nang "Tatlò!" Ang kúba ay umakyàt na mulì`, dátapwat nahúlog dìn syà. Ang bulàg ay sumigàw nang "Tatlò!" at tumáwa sya. Ang kúba ay nagínit nang gálit. Nilapítan nya ang bulàg at kanyà ng sinampàl sa mukhà`. Ang sampàl ay tumáma sa manga matà nang bulàg, at dáhil díto ay nadílat ang kanyà ng manga matà. Úpang manghigantì sya ay sinípà nya ang kúba`. Tinamaan nyà itò sa likòd at dáhil díto ay nàúnat ang kanya ng kúba`. Silà ng dalawà ay natwá sa nangyári at lálo ng tumíbay ang kanila ng pagkakaybígan sa lugàr nang magkasirá silà. 5. ANG HÁRI NG MAY SÚNGAY AT SI HWÀN. Sa isà ng kapuluwàn naghàhári ang isa ng táwu ng may dalawà ng maiiklì ng súngay na nàtàtágù sa malagú nya ng buhòk. Hindí itò nàlàláman nang kanya ng manga pinaghàharían. Dátapwat ang líhim na ytò y nagumpisà ng nàibadyà sa madlà` sa pamamagítan nang manga manggugúpit na nakàpútul nang kanyà ng buhòk. Kanyá sya y nagkaroòn nang malaki ng gálit sa manga barbéro, at inakálà nya ng lipúlin ang manga barbéro sa kanya ng kaharyàn. Iniyútus nya ng humúkay nang ápat na malálim na balòn sa harapàn nang kanya ng tìráhan, at sa gitná nang ápat na húkay na yitò ay nagpalagày sya nang isa ng ùpúan. Isa ng áraw naupó sya sa taburéte sa gitná nang ápat na húkay, at báwat táo ng nagdaàn ay tinanùng nya kung marúnung manggupìt. Ang báwat sumagòt nang "Óo" ay pinahintú nya úpang bigyàn nya nang guntìng at syà y gupitàn. Pagkaraàn nang ilà ng sandalì` ay itinanùng nya sa báwat manggugúpit kung anò ang nàkìkíta nya sa úlo nang háre`. Ang manga manggugúpit ay nagsipagsábi nang katotohánan at báwat isà sa kanilà ay sumagòt nang súngay ang kanila ng nàkìkíta. Ang báwat sumagòt nang ganitò ay ibinulìd nang háre` sa isà sa manga húkay sa palígid niyà. Nakaraàn ang ila ng áraw at ang dalawà ng húkay ay napunú nà nang manga barbéro at pinatabúnan na nyà. Dumálang ang manga tao ng nagdádaàn na marúnung manggupìt, at ang háre ay nagakála ng nápatay nà niya ng lahàt ang manga barbéro sa kanyà ng kaharyàn. Isa ng áraw ay naghintày sya sa kanya ng ùpúan hanggàng katanghalían bágo nagdaàn ang isa ng táo na nagsábi ng sya y marúnung gumupìt nang buhòk. Itinanùng sa kanyà nang háre`: "Anò ang pangálan mo?" Isinagòt nang táo: "Ang pangálan ko pò` ay Hwàn." "Gupitàn mo akò, Hwàn," iniyútus nang háre`. Lumápit si Hwàn sa háre` at inumpisahan nyà ang panggugupìt. Makaraàn ang ila ng sandalì` ay itinanùng nang háre`: "Anò ang nàkìkíta mo sa úlo ko, Hwàn?" Ang kanya ng sagòt ay ganitò: "Ang iyo pò ng Kamàhálan, nàkìkíta ko sa úlo ninyò ang koróna." Itò ay ikinatuwá nang háre`. Kanyá nagtindig syà sa ùpúan at inákay nya si Hwàn sa kanya ng palásiyo at ginawá nya si Hwàn na barbéro nang háre`. Malakì ang suwèldu na ibinigày nya kay Hwàn, at pinatabúnan nya ang manga nàtìtirà ng húkay. 6. TATLÒ NG ESTUDYÀNTE. Si Hwàn, si Pédro, at si Andrès ay tatlò ng magkakayibíga ng estudyànte ng magkababáyan. Nang dumatìng ang pagbubukàs nang manga pàaralàn ay nàláman nilà na silà ay magkàkahiwá-hiwalày. Iba t ibà ng báyan ang kapàpatungúhan nang báwat isà sa kanilà. Bágo silà naghiwá-hiwalày ay nagtìpánan silà nang pagtàtagpuàn nila ng lugàr paguumpisà nang bakasyòn. Nakaraàn ang isa ng taòn at dumatìng ang pagsasarà nang kláse at ang manga estudyànte ay naguwían sa kaní-kanilà ng báyan, at ang tatlò ng magkakaybíga ng si Pédro, si Hwàn, at si Andrès ay nagtatagpò sa báya ng tinubúan ni Pédro, úpang doòn sila magpalípas nang bakasyòn. Nang silà y magkikíta, pagkaraàn nang iba t ibà ng bágay na kanilà ng pinagusápan, ay nagsiyásat silà kung ganò ang nàtutúhan nang báwat isà sa kanila ng pagaáral nang wíka ng Kastíla`. Sinábi ni Pédro na syà ay marámi ng nàlàláma ng salità ng Kastíla`, dátapuwat ang maígi nya ng natàtandaàn ay ang salità ng "Bámos." Sumagòt namàn si Hwàn: "Ako màn ay marámi rì ng nàlàláman, dátapuwat sa ngayòn ang nààalaála ko ay ang salità ng 'Matàr.'" Si Andrès namàn ay nagwíka ng walá sya ng nàtutúhan kung hindí ang salità ng "Sì." Makaraàn ang kanila ng pagsasàlitáan ay nagyayá si Pédro na sila ay mamangká sa ílog at magsipalígo tulòy. Nang sila y namámangká na sa ílog, sa pangpàng ay nakátanaw silà nang isà ng Kastílà` na íbig malígo`. Sinábi ni Pédro na mabúti ay makipagúsap silà sa Kastíla`, úpang sa gayù y màipakíta nilà ang kaní-kanilà ng dúnong. Nagumpisà si Pédro at sinábi nya ng "Bámos!" Si Hwàn namàn ay sumagòt: "Matàr!" At sa hulè ay si Andrès ang kanya ng "Sì!" Nang márinig itò nang Kastíla`, ay siniglàn sya nang tákot, sapagkàt inakálà nya na pàpataìn sya nang tatlò ng namámangkà`. Kanyá, káhit na hindí sya marúnung lumangòy, ay nagtalòn sya sa ílog at sya y nalúnod. 7. ISA NG SUNDÁLU NG MARÚNUNG NANG LATÌN. Tatlò ng magkakayibígan, isa ng párè`, isa ng manggagámut, at isa ng sundálu, ay magkakasáma ng nagsipamarìl nang maiílap na háyup sa isà ng maláwak na gúbat. Ang gúbat ay maláyù sa báyan. Kanyà` silà ay nagdalà nang marámi ng báon, úpang hwag silà ng gutúmin. Nakaraàn ang ila ng áraw, dátapuwat walá pa sila ng nàhùhúli káhit anò. Ang kanila ng báon ay umuntí nang umuntì` hanggàng sa walà ng nátira kung hindí isa ng hilàw na itlòg. Dumatìng sa kanilà ang áraw nang malaki ng gútom, dátapuwat sila ng tatlò ay walà ng pagkáin kung hindí ang itlòg lámang na nàtìtirà. Sinábi nang páre` na, kung paghatían nilà ang isa ng itlòg, ay hindí makabùbúti sa kanilà, sapagkàt hindí makapàpáwi` nang kaní-kanila ng gútom. Kaniyà` ipináyu nang párì` na isà lámang sa kanilà ng tatlò ang kumáin nang itlòg na nàtìtirà,--at sa kanya ng kasakimàn ay ipináyu nya na kung sínu sa kanilà ang pinakamahúsay na magsalitá nang Latìn ay sya lámang kàkáin nang itlòg. Inakálà nya na ang sundálu ay hindí marúnung nang Latìn at ang médiko lámang ang sya nyà ng màkàkatálo, at ang dúnong nitò y kanya ng minámatà. Ang médiko y umáyun sa hátul nang párì`, dátapuwat ang sundálu ay áyaw pumáyag, sapagkàt hindí sya nagáral na gáya nang pári` at nang médiko; ngúnit walá sya ng magawà`. Kinúha nang párì` ang itlùg at itinuktòk nya sa isa ng batò. Nang mabásag ang itlòg ay sinábi nyà: "Koronátum est," at tiningnàn nyà ang dalawà nya ng kasáma. Inabùt nang médiko ang basàg na itlòg, inalis nyà ang balàt na basàg at nilagyan nyà nang asìn at kanya ng sinábi: "Sàltum est." Iniyabùt nang manggagámot sa sundálu ang itlùg, at ang páre at siyà ay naghintày nang sàsabíhin nang sundálo. Itò y walà ng màláma ng sabíhin, sapagkàt katunáya ng walá sya ng nàlàláman káhit isa ng hóta tungkùl sa Latìn. Sa kanya ng pagiisìp ay nàalaála nya na, mínsan pumásuk sya sa simbáhan úpang makinìg nang Syéti-Palábras, ay nárinig nyà sa párì` na ang kahulugàn nang salità ng "Konsumátum est" ay "Tapus nà ang lahàt." Kanyà ibinúhos nya sa kanyà ng bibìg ang itlòg, at pagkalaguk nyà ay kanya ng sinábi: "Konsumátum est." Ang dalawà nya ng kasáma ay nàpagúlat nang malakì sa hindí nila hininála ng dúnung nang sundálo. 8. ANG PITÙ NG DWÈNDE. Isà ng magasáwa ay máy-roo ng pitù ng anàk na dwènde. Ang amà ay walà ng trabáho at hindí rìn siya makàkíta nang trabáho. Ang inà namàn ay hindí kumìkíta nang salapì`, sapagkàt mahína` ang kanyà ng katawàn at paráti sa sakìt. Isa ng tangháli` sila y nàùupú sa isa ng bangkò` at pinagùusápan nilà ang kanila ng pamumúhay na pinagdàdaanàn. Itinanùng nang laláke kung anò ang mabúte nila ng gawìn sa kanila ng maràmi ng anàk. Ipináyu nang babáye na kanilà ng ihánap nang trabáho ang manga báta`, úpang kumíta silà nang kwaltà. Dátapuwat isinagòt nang laláki na sa akálà nya ay hindí sila makàkìkíta nang trabáho, sapagkàt siya rìn ay wala ng màkíta. Kanyà` ipináyu nyà na ang mabúti ay itápun nilà ang manga báta`. Itò y ikinalungkòt at ikináiyàk nang babáye. Áyaw sya ng pumáyag na itápon ang manga báta`. Dátapuwat ipinakíta sa kanyà nang kanyà ng asáwa na, kung hindí nila gawìn iyòn, sila ng lahàt ay mamámatay nang gútom. Sa kalaúnan ay pumáyag ang babáe at pinagkàsunduàn nila na dalhìn nila ng magpasyàl ang manga báta` at kanila ng íwan sa daàn. Hábang pinagùusápan nilà itò, ang ikapitù ng bátà ay nása isà ng bitàk nang bangkò na kanila ng inùupàn at nárinig nya ng lahàt ang gàgawin sa kanilà nang kanila ng magúlang. Pagkaraàn nang kanilà ng sàlitáan ay hinánap pagdáka nang báta ang kanyà ng manga kapatìd at ibinalítà nya ang kanya ng nárinìg. Silà ay nagìyákan, sapagkàt hindí ipinaálam sa kanilà nang kanila ng magúlang na silà ay nakabíbigat sa kanila ng pamumúhay. Inakálà nila na, kung itò y nàláman nilà, káhit na papáno tùtúlong sila ng maghánap nang kabuháyan. Dátapuwat pinagkàsunduwan nilà na silà y sumáma pag niyáyà sila ng magsipagpasyàl at paligàw silà. Kinàbukásan hinánap silà nang kanilà ng amà, pinapagbíhis sila, binigyàn sila nang manga púto, at sinábi ng sila y magsísipagpasyàl. Nang silà y magumpisà ang ikapitò ng báta ay hindí kináin ang kanya ng tinápay, dátapuwat magmulá sa kanila ng tàrangkáhan ay dinúrog nya ang tinápay at ibinudbòd nya sa daà ng kanila ng nilakáran. Nang sila y málayú nà ay naubúsan sya nang tinápay, kanyá nanghingí sya sa kanya ng manga kapatìd. Dátapwat hindí nila syà binigyàn. Itò namàn ay hindí sinábi sa kanilà kung bákit sya naubúsan agàd nang tinápay. Nang hindí sya makáhingì nang tinápay ay namúlot sya nang manga batò, at itò y sya nyà ng isa-isà ng inilaglàg sa kanila ng pinagdaánan. Nang dumatìng sila sa isa ng gúbat ay iníwan silà nang kanilà ng magúlang at pinagsabíhan silà na hantayìn sila doòn, at silà y bábalik agàd. Silà y naíwan, dátapwat nàlàláman nilà na hindí sila pagbàbalikàn nang kanila ng magúlang. Nang makaraàn ang ila ng sandalì`, ay nakárinig silà nang isa ng íngay. Pinuntahàn nilà ang lugàr na pinanggàgalíngan nang íngay. Doòn ay nàkíta nilà ang isa ng malakì ng higànte na nalìlígo sa tabi nang isa ng balòn. Tiningnàn nila ang palígid-lígid nang lugàr, at sa tabì nang isa ng káhuy ay nàkíta nilà ang pananamìt nang higànte. Ang ikapitù ng bàta ay pinaalìs ang kanya ng manga kapatìd at sinábi nya na magtágo silà at kanyà ng nànakáwin ang sapátos nang higànte. Itò ay kanila ng ginawà`, at ninákaw nang báta ang sapátos. Nang makapalígo` ang higànte at siyà y nagbìbíhis ay hindí nya màkíta ang kanya ng manga sapátos. Sya y nagálit at nagmurà. Tumáwag sya nang túlong. Nang itò y márinìg nang numákaw nang sapátos ay dali-dáli sya ng dumalò. Nang màkíta sya nang higànte ay hindí sya pinagbintangàn, sapagkàt dahilàn sa kanya ng kaliitàn ay inakálà nang higànte ng hindí nya madádala ang sapátos. Kanyà` itò y nagwíka sa kanyà: "Kung iyo ng dàdalhìn ito ng súpot ko nang kwaltà sa áki ng asáwa at pabilhìn mo syà nang sapátos at ihatìd nya sa ákin, ay ùupáhan kità nang marámi ng kwàlta." Sinábi tulòy nya na sya y hindí nakalàlákad nang wala ng sapátos, kanyá sya y magmadalì`. Nang màkúha nya ang súpot nang kwaltà ay ipinangákù nya ng bábalik syà agàd. Dátapwat, nang málayo sya, ay tináwag nya ang manga nàtàtágù nya ng kapatìd, at nang sila y maípon ay nagyayá sya ng umuwè`. Dátapwat isinagòt nang kanya ng manga kapatìd na hindí nila nàlàláman ang daà ng pauwè`. Ngúnit kanyà ng isinagòt na tùtuntunìn nilà ang kanya ng inilaglàg na batò at tinápay sa daàn. Sinábi nang isà nyà ng kapatìd na, kung nàláman nya kung anò ang kanya ng ginawà` sa tinápay, ay binigyàn sána nya syà nang syà y manghingì`. Kanilà ng ikinalungkòt ang ipinakíta nila ng karamútan sa kanila ng kapatìd. Hindí naláon at nàtagpuan nilà ang hiléra nang manga batò sa daàn. Itò y tinuntòn nila at nakaratìng sila sa kanila ng báhay, dalà nilà ang súpot nang kwaltà na kanila ng ibinigày pagdáka sa kanila ng magúlang. Silà y nangatwá at nangalungkòt dahilàn sa kanilà ng malì ng inásal sa manga anàk,--sila y natwá sapagkàt máy-roon sila ng ikabùbúhay sa maláo ng panahòn. 9. ISÀ NG PULÌS NA NAGASWÀNG-ASWÁNGAN. Noò ng tagáraw nang taò ng míle-nobisyèntos-dòs, hábang ang manga hinòg na búnga nang káhoy ay nangakabiyábit sa manga sangà, lumagánap ang balíta sa boo ng báyan nang San-Antónyo na máy-roo ng aswàng na naglílibot sa báyan. Ang manga táo-ng-San-Antónyo sa manga taò ng iyòn ay may paniniwála` sa manga núno`, aswàng, dwènde, at iba pà ng katatakutàn. Karamíhan sa kanilà y hindí nagkapálad na makapagáral, dátapwat, káhit na ganitò ang kalàgáyan nila, sila y manga táwo ng mababaìt, matahímik, at masisípag. Ang manga báhay sa báya ng itò ay maliliìt at nayàyárì nang páwid at kawáyan. Máy-roon dì ng ila ng báhay na tablà. Karamíhan ay nàtàtayò sa malalakì ng bakúran, at ang dulúhan nang bakúran ay nàtàtamnàn nang manga púno-ng-káhoy na masasaràp ang búnga, gáya nang tsíko, súha`, santòl, mabúlo, manggà, at iba pà. Kasalukúya ng nagkàkahinòg ang manga búnga-ng-káhuy na ytò nang lumagánap ang balíta na may-roòn nà ng ila ng gabì na nàmatáan nang ila ng babáe ang aswàng sa ibà t iba ng dulúhan. Ang manga báta at manga babáe ay siniglàn nang malakì ng tákot, kanyá pagkagàt nang dilìm ay agad-agàd silà ng nagsipanahímik sa loòb nang báhay. Karamíhan nang manga laláki ay nangatákot dìn, dátapwat máy-roo ng ila ng nagsipagsábi na sila y hindí natàtákot, sapagkàt hindí pa sila nakátagpo nang aswàng, at sa ganitò y hindí nila nàlàláman kung dápat katakútan ang aswàng. Ang aswàng ay isa ng táo ng malakì ang kapangyaríhan. Nakapagìiba-t-ibà sya nang pangangatawàn. Kung mínsan ay may katawàn siya ng pára ng táo, dátapwat maitèm, kung mínsan siya y isa ng malakì ng áso o báboy. Sya y nangàngáin nang táo, lálù nà nang manga báta`. Dátapuwat ang lálo ng mahalagà nya ng pagkáin at sya rìn namàn nyà ng karanyúa ng kinàkáin ay ang báta ng hindí pa naipangánganàk at násàsa tiyàn pa lámang nang kanya ng inà. Kanyá ang manga buntìs na babáye sa báya ng yaòn ay lálo ng malakì ang tákot. Hindí nila pinatúlog ang kanila ng asáwa sa pagbabantày sa kanila ng tabì. Ang aswàng ay mahírap mápatay nang patalìm o barìl, sapagkàt máy-roon sya ng íisa lámang na lugàr na dápat màtamaàn o masugátan úpang sya y mápatày, at ang lugàr na ytò ay lihìm. Ang bágay lámang na kanya ng inìilágan ay ang báwang. Kanyá itò y malakì ng kagamitàn sa pagpapaláyas nang aswàng. Dátapwat isà ng bágay na nakapagtátakà sa aswàng na iyòn ay ang kanyà ng inugáli ng pagtitirà sa manga dulúhan nang bakúran. Katakà-takà rìn ang bágay na manga dalága ang karamíhan nang nagsipagsábi ng nàmatáan nilà sa dulúhan sa itaàs nang súha` o iba pà ng púno-ng-káhoy ang aswàng na iyòn. Ila ng táo ng matalíno ay nagsábi ng ang bintàng nilà y isa ng magnanákaw at hindí aswàng ang pinagkàkatakutà ng iyòn. Isa ng polìs na may hindí karanyúa ng tápang ay siya ng tumiktìk sa aswàng na itò sa dulúha ng bágo ng kinakitáan sa kanyà. Pagdilìm ay nároon na syà sa kanya ng kublíhan. Hindí nalaúnan at dumatìng ang aswàng, umakyàt sa isa púno-ng-súha`, at nárinig niya ng pumitàs nang marámi ng búnga. Itò y bumába` at umalìs, dátapwat sya y sinundàn nang pulìs hanggàng sa báhay na kanya ng pinasúkan. Malakì ang nagìng pagkàgúlat nang polìs, nang díto nàmálas nya ng ang kápwa nya polìs nabàbálot nang maitìm na kúmot, at ang súpot na itìm na punò nang súha` ay kasalukúyan pa lámang niya ng inilálapàg. Niyáyà nya sa munisípyo ang kápwa nya polìs, at doòn kinàbukásan ipinagsumbòng nyà sa presidènte. Ang polìs na nagaswang-aswángan ay nábilanggò dahilàn sa sála ng pagnanákaw. 10. ISÀ NG ASWÀNG NA NÁPATÀY. Isà ng gabì sa isà ng báhay na pàngaserahàn nang ilà ng manga nagsìsipagáral sa báya-ng-Malólos ay nárinig ko ng isinalaysày nang isà ng matandà` na may gúlang na siyàm na pù ng taòn sa isà ng umpúkan ang sumúsunòd. Noò ng sya y bágo ng táwu pa lámang ay sa búkid sya nagtítirà. Íilan lámang silà ng magkakápit-báhay. Isa ng áraw ay namatayàn ang isa nyà ng kápit-báhay. Sa pagsunòd sa isa ng matandà ng kaugaliàn ay dumalo syà sa kápit-báhay na may hápis. Nang dumatìng sya doòn ay hindí nalaúnan at nàbalitáan nyà na may aswàng sa kanila ng lugàr. Syà ay may malakì at katutúbo ng gálit sa manga aswàng, kaniyá inakálà nya ng magbantày nang gabì ng iyòn. Nang malálim nà ang gabì ay nanáog sya sa báhay at sa isa ng karitò ng dí maláyo sa báhay, doòn sya nahigà`. Kabilúgan nang bwàn nang gabi ng iyòn, kanyà malínaw ang pagkàkíta nya sa manga bágay sa palìgid-lígid. Walá sya ng nàmálas na màpaghìhinaláa ng isa ng aswàng, kanyá sya y natúlog. Kinàháti-ng-gabihàn ay nágising syà at ang úna ng tinamaàn nang kanyà ng manga matà ay isà ng bágay na maitìm sa bubungàn nang báhay nang kinamatayàn. Ang maitìm na iyòn ay walá roon bágo sya natúlog, kaniyá nagbintang syà na iyòn ay ang aswàng na nàbalitáan nyà. Ang aswàng ay nangàngáin nang patày na táo, kanyà sinapantáhà nya na ang patày ang sadyá doòn nang aswàng na iyòn. Pumanhìk sya sa báhay at dalà nyà ang isa ng gúlok. Ang manga táo y natùtúlog. Sa itaàs ay may-roon syà ng nàkíta ng isa ng bágay na nakalawìt mulá sa bubungàn nang báhay. Itò y gáya nang bitúka nang manòk. Humábà nang humába`, hanggàng sa ang dúlo y pumások sa bibìg nang patày. Ang patày ay nagtindìg sa kanyà ng kinàlàlagyàn pagkapások sa kanya ng bibìg nang bágay na iyòn. Ang ginawá nang bágo ng táo ay lumápit siya sa nakatindìg na patày at sa pamamagítan nang dala nyà ng gúlok ay pinútol niya ang bágay na iyòn na pára ng bitúka nang manòk. Nang itò y mapútol ay may kumalabòg sa tabì nang báhay. Nanáog siya at doòn ay nàkíta nya ang patày na aswàng. 11. ANG MANGKUKÚLAM. Sa ilà ng poòk sa Filipínas ay may lubòs na paniniwálà sa mangkukúlam ang manga táo. Áyon sa kanila ng paniwála` ang mangkukúlam ay isa ng táo ng may malakì ng kapangyaríhan at ang kapangyaríha ng itò y gáling sa dimóniyo o kayà y mána sa magúlang. Bágo màkamtàn ang kapangyaríha ng iyòn ang isà ay dápat múna ng makipagkayibígan at magsilbè sa dimóniyo. Dátapwat may ilan dì ng nanìniwála ng nàpùpúlot o naàágaw ang kapangyaríha ng iyòn sa gúbat o ilàng na lugàr na mahírap puntahàn at karanyúwa y pinagkàkatakutàn. Ang kúlam ay siyà ng naàágaw, nàmàmána, o ibiníbigay nang dimóniyo, at iyò y sya ng pinanggàgalíngan nang kapangyaríhan nang nagmème-áre`. Ang hitsúra nang kúlam ay hindí parè-parého. Kung mìnsan ay isa ng batò o isa ng maníka ng maliìt at masamà` ang hitsúra. Kung madilìm ang kúlam na itò y nagníningnìng na pára ng alitaptàp, dátapwat ang ningnìng na itò y nawáwalà namàn pag inìbig nang kúlam. Ang kúlam at ang táo, káhit laláki o babáe, na nagàári sa kanyà ay hindí naghíhiwalày káhit isà ng sandalè` at káhit na sa pagpalígo` ay dinádala nang mangkukúlam ang kanya ng kúlam. Dáhil díto ang manga táo ng mapagsyásat, pag íbig nilà ng màpagkilála kung mangkukúlam ngà` o hindì` ang isa ng táo ng kanila ng pinaghìhinaláan, ay sinùsubúkan nila itò sa kanyà ng pagpalígo`. Kung hindí maíngat at walà ng hinálà ang mangkukúlam na syà y sinùsubúkan, kung mínsan ay nagkàkapálad ang nanùnúbok na màkíta nya ang kúlam. Ang mangkukúlam ay may kapangyaríhan dì ng itágo` sa loòb nang kanyà ng katawàn ang kúlam, at hindi bihíra` ang manga táo ng nakàkíta nang mangkukúlam sa kanya ng pagkamatày. Sa kàhulì-hulíha ng sandalì`, bágo malagòt ang hiningà, inilúluwa nilà ang kúlam. Itò y nangyàyári lámang kung áyaw ipamána nang mangkukúlam ang kanyà ng kúlam. Kung ipinamàmána namàn itò, malwat pà bágo mamatày ang mangkukúlam ay tinàtáwag na nyà ang kanyà ng íbig pamanáhan, at díto y líhim na líhim nya ng ibiníbigay ang kúlam. Ang malakì ng kapangyaríhan nang mangkukúlam ay ginàgámit nya lában sa kanya ng manga kaáway, sa manga táo ng kanyà ng kinagàgalítan, o kayà y sa manga háyop nilà, kung siya nyà ng íbig panghigantihàn. Gayon dìn ginàgámit nya ang kanya ng kapangyaríhan sa pangbibíro` sa isa ng táo o háyop na kanya ng màkatwaàn. Ang kanyà ng pinasàsakítan kadalasà y nagáanyo ng pára ng ulòl. Kung mínsan ang kanya ng kinùkúlam ay dumádaing na masakìt ang kanya ng buò ng katawàn, nagsísisigàw, at hindí màtahímik káhit isà ng sandalè`. Sa háyop namàn karanyúwa y ang bábuy na pinakamahalagà sa may ári`, ang kanya ng ibiníbigay na parúsa ay gáya nang sakìt na kólera, dátapuwat lálu ng mabagsìk káy sa ríto. Ang pagdumì nang háyop ay wala ng patìd, at pagkaraàn nang ilà ng óras, káhit na gáno katabà` ang háyop, ay nagíging butò t balàt. Ang táo ng nàkùkúlam nya ay malakàs kumáin, katimbàng nang dalawà katáo, at mapanghilìng nang masasaràp na pagkáin. Dáhil díto ang paniwála nang manga táo y kasálo ng kumàkáin nang máy sakit ang mangkukúlam na nagpàparúsa sa kanyà. Ang mangkukúlam ay may kapangyaríha ng pumaloòb sa katawàn nang kanyà ng kinùkúlam. Itò y sya ng paniwála`, dátapuwat kung papáno ang paraàn nang pagpások nang mangkukúlam at kung saàn sya pumàpások sa katawàn nang kanya ng kinùkúlam ay walà ng nakààalàm. Ngúnit ang kanya ng nilàlabasàn ay ang hintutúro`. Ang bágay na itò ay malakì ng kabuluhàn úkol sa paggamòt sa nàkùkúlam at gayon dìn sa pagpaparúsa sa mangkukúlam. Káhit na malakì ang kapangyaríhan nang mangkukúlam ay mayroon dìn sya ng kinatàtakútan, karanyúwa y ang manga táo ng malalakàs, matápang, at wala ng paniwálà sa kapangyaríhan nang mangkukúlam at iba pà ng pinagkàkatakutàn nang manga iba ng táo. Dáhil díto y hindí bihíra` na ang isà ng táo y pamagatà ng "médiko-ng-mangkukúlam" pagkaraàn nang úna o ikalawà nya ng pagpapagalìng nang táo sa sakìt na itò. Mínsan ay nárinig ko ng magbalíta` ang isa ng táo ng nakàkíta nang panggagamòt nang táo ng nàkùkúlam. Ang táo ng itò y may isa ng kápit-báhay na may anàk na dalága. Sa dalága ng itò y marámi ng manglilígaw, at ang isà sa kanilà y pinaghìhinaláa ng mangkukúlam. Sa kasamaà-ng-pálad nitò ay nagìng isa syà sa manga hindí nátanggàp. Sa malakì nya ng gálit ay magkasunòd nya ng kinúlam ang babáye at laláki ng magkaìbígan. Inúna nya ang babáye at ito namà y agàd na itináwag nang médiko-ng-mangkukúlam nang kanyà ng manga magúlang. Nang dumatìng ang médiko at nàkíta nya ang máy sakìt, ay sinábi nya ng nàkùkúlam ngà` ang babáye. Sinábi nya sa manga táo doòn na hwàg paàaláman sa nàkùkúlam na syà y nàròroòn sa báhay. Pag itò y nàláman nang máy sakìt, ay màlàláman dìn nang mangkukúlam na nása loòb nang kanya ng katawàn, at makaáalis agàd ang mangkukúlam. Ang médiko y lumápit na hindí nàmaláyan nang babáye, at pagdáka y tinangnan nyà nang mahigpìt ang dalawà ng hintutúro` nang babáye. Itò y lálo ng inilakàs ang pagsigàw, at kuminìg na pára ng isa ng natàtákot. Ang mangkukúlam, áyon sa paniwálà nang manga táo, ay sya ng nakàràramdàm nang ano mà ng pasákit na ibigày sa katawàn nang kanyà ng kinùkúlam hábang sya y násàsa loòb nang katawàn nitò. Gayon dìn, kung kausápin ang máy sakìt, ay siyà ang sumásagòt. Dáhil díto y itinanòng pagdáka nang médiko: "Anò ang ginágawá mo ríto, salbáhe?" Ang máy sakit ay hindí kumibò`, dátapwat nagpílit na magkawalà`. Ang ipinakíta nya ng lakàs ay hindí karanyúwa ng lakàs nang babáye. Dátapuwat hindí sya pinawalàn nang médiko, at itò y tumanòng na mulì`: "Anò ang ginágawá mo ríto? Bákit ka naparíto? Pag hindí ka sumagòt, ay pahìhirápan kità." Ang babáye ay nagmàmakaáwa ng sumagòt: "Walá po`, hindí na po` úulè`, pawalan pò` ninyo akò, at akò y nahìhirápan nà." "Pawalàn kità?" itinanòng agàd nang médiko, "Mangákù ka múna sa ákin na hindí ka na bábalik." "Hindí na pò` akò bábalik," ang sagòt nang babáye. "Pag nàhúle kità ulè` díto, ay pàpatayìn kità. Hwag kà ng salbáhe. Tumahímik ka sa iyò ng báhay." "Ó po`, ó po`, hindí na pò` akò bábalik. Pawalàn na pò ninyo akò!" Hábang ang sàlitáa ng itò y nangyàyári ang babáye ay nagpìpílit na magkawalà`, íbig nya ng mabitíwan nang médiko ang kanya ng hintutúro`. Pagkapangáko nang babáye ay binitíwan nang médiko ang dalawà nya ng hintutúro`. Ang mukhá nang babáye na dáti ay nagpàpakilála nang malakì ng paghihírap ngayò y nàhúsay, at sya y pára ng gága na pinagsa-ulàn nang pagiísip. Sya ay tumahímik, pinútol ang pagsisigàw, at nàkaúsap nang matwìd. Ang laláki namàn ay nàtìtirà sa isa ng báya ng malápit. Nang sya y kinùkúlam nà ay itináwag sya nang manggagámot nang kanya ng kapatìd na laláke. Sa kalakhàn nang gálit nang kapatìd na ytò ay sya nyà ng tináwag ang manggagamòt na mabagsìk at malupìt sa pagtaráto nya sa mangà mangkukúlam. Líhim na dumatìng ang manggagámot sa báhay nang máy sakìt. Mulá sa kanya ng kublíhan ay piního múna nya kung ang mangkukúlam ay násàsa katawàn ngà` nang máy sakìt. Itò y nàpagkìkilála sa pagsisigàw, pagkílos, at pananalità ng hindí tulà-tulà` nang máy sakìt. Ang manggagamòt ay nagpatalìm nang isà ng gúlok at pagkatápos ay maligsì sya ng tumakbò sa tabì nang máy sakìt. Tinangnan nyà ang dalawà ng hintutúro nitò, dinaganàn nya ang katawàn, at tinagá nya ng makáilan ang mukhá nang máy sakìt. Itò y nagsisigàw at nagkawalà`, dátapwat nang makawalá sya y may manga súgat na ang kanyà ng mukhà` at ang dugò y umàágos na wala ng patìd. Walà ng kibú sya iníwan nang manggagamòt. Hinánap nitò ang kapatìd nang sugatàn at kanya ng sinábi na hwag pansinìn ang manga súgat nang kanya ng kapatìd, at kinàbukása y mawáwala` iyòn at màlìlípat sa mangkukúlam, sapagkàt dinatnàn nya itò sa katawàn nang kanyà ng kapatìd. Kinàbukásan ay pinarunàn nang médiko ang kanya ng ginamòt nang patalìm, at malakì ang tuwá nya nang itò y màkíta nya ng mahúsay at wala ng bakas-súgat sa mukhà`. Pagkaraàn nang ila ng áraw nàbalitáan nilà na isa ng mangkukúlam sa kápit-báyan nilà ay malubhà` ang lagày dahilàn sa pagdudugò ng hindí maampàt nang manga súgat nya sa mukhà`. Máy-roon dìn namà ng mangkukúlam na maligsì at hindí na paaábot sa manggagamòt. Ang manggagamòt namàn ay kinàkayilánga ng bihása` at maligsì. Ang káhit síno y maàári ng gumamòt sa isà ng nàkùkúlam, yámang walá namà ng ibà ng panggamòt kung hindì` ang pagpapahìrap sa katawàn nang nàkùkúlam. Dátapuwat malakì ang pangánib, sapagkàt, kung hindí maligsì, dahilàn sa kawalàn nang sánay, ang gumágamòt, maàári ng makawalà` ang mangkukúlam. Kung magkágayo y ang nàkùkúlam mìsmo ang maghìhírap dahilàn sa parúsa. Mínsan ay máy nàbalíta ng nangyári na gáya nitò ng sumúsunòd. Ang isà sa dalawà ng magkapatìd na laláki ay kinúlam nang kanya ng karibàl sa paglígaw. Walà ng màtáwag na médiko-ng-mangkukúlam. Sa malakì ng áwà sa kanyà nang kanya ng kúya ay tinalagà nitò ng gamutìn sya káhit na walá sya ng pagkasánay. Hindí ngá sya sanày, dátapwat madalàs nya ng nàpakinggàn sa manga manggagamòt ang paraàn nang paggamòt. Isa ng hápon, nang inakálà nya ng nása loòb na namàn nang katawàn nang kanyà ng kapatìd ang mangkukúlam, ay sinunggabàn nya agàd ang isa ng gúlok at pagkálapit nyà sa kanya ng kapatìd ay tinagá nya itò nang walà ng tuòs. Kinàbukásan sa lugàr nang màkíta nya ng magalìng at wala ng súgat ang kanyà ng kapatìd itò y bangkày na lámang. Ang mangkukúlam ay nakawalà`. 12. ANG LARO NG SÍPA` SA FILIPÍNAS. Ang laro ng sípà sa Estádos-Unídos at sa Filipínas ay lubhà ng malakì ang pagkakáibà. Sa lugàr nang dalawà ng pangkàt na nagtàtálo ang nagsìsipaglarò` na gáya nang fùtbol, sa sípà ay isà ng pangkàt lámang ang naglálarò`. Sa sípà ang hangàd nang nagsìsipaglarò ay hindí ang talúnin ang isa ng kaáway, dátapuwat ang huwàg bayáa ng lumagpàk sa lúpà ang bóla o sípa`. Ang bóla ng gámit ay malakì ng malaki rìn ang kaibhàn. Itò y nayàyárì nang yantòk na tinilàd at nilála ng pabilòg. Walà ng lamàn ang loòb, at ang manga matà nang sulihiyà ay malalakè. Dáhil díto ay magaàn ang sípa`, hindí gáya nang bòla ng gámit sa bèsbol. Mulá sa dalawà hanggàng sa dalawà ng pù` ang bílang nang nagsìsipaglarò`. Kung silà ay marámi ang áyos ay pabilòg. Úpang umpisahàn ang paglalarò` isà sa manga kasále ay ihiníhitsà ang sípa na paitaàs at patúngo sa isà sa manga nagsìsipaglarò`, karanyúwa y sa isà ng katapàt nyà. Ang táo ng hinitsahàn nang sípa` ay ipinabábalik itò sa naghágis sa kanyà, hindí nang kanya ng kamày, dátapwat nang kanya ng paà. Kung ang manga nagsìsipaglarò ay marurúnong, napapúpunta nilà ang pelóta sa káhit na síno sa manga kasále, kayà t báwat isà sa kanilà ay nakaabàng at naghíhintay nang pagdatìng nang sípa`. Ang báwat isà ay nagìíngat na hwàg bayáa ng lumagpàk sa lúpa ang pelóta. Kadalasàn ang manga nagsísipaglarò ay nagpàpakíta nang sarì-sári ng áyus nang pagsípa`. Ang manga magandà ng pagbabaluktòt nang paà sa harapàn o likuràn, ang maligsì at magaà ng lundàg, ang banáyad at magaà ng pagsípà sa pelóta, at ang pagpapadalà nang sípà sa káhit na alì ng bandà ay manga bágay na nagpàpagandà sa laro ng sípa`. Hindi rìn bihíra na ang balíkat, ang síko, ang túhod, o ang kamày ay sya ng ginàgámit sa pagpapabalìk nang pelóta. Papáno ang pagkakatalò sa larò ng itò? Itò y maàári lámang sa pagpapàtagálan nang hindí paglagpàk nang sípà sa lúpa`. Kung halimbáwa y íbig makipaglában nang isa ng pangkàt nang manga màninípa o sipéros sa ybà ng pangkàt, ang úna y manghàhámon sa alin mà ng pangkàt na kanila ng màpíle`. Kung itò y tanggapìn, ang áraw, óras, at lugàr nang paglalarò ay agad nà ng nàbàbalíta sa manga pàhayagàn. Sa óras nang paglalarò` ay hindí íilan lámang na líbo ng táo ang nagsísipanoòd. Ang manghahámun karanyúwa y umùúpa nang isa ng bànda-ng-músika at tinùtugtugàn ang báwat pangkàt sa kanilà ng paglalarò`. Karanyúwa y dalawà ng bànda ang músika, sapagkàt, kung ang hinámon ay may kauntì ng gílas, ay íbig dìn namàn nilà ng ipakíta, at dáhil díto y nagdádala silà nang saríle nilà ng bànda nang músika. Pagkaraàn nang larò` ang hukòm ay syà ng nagpàpaháyag sa manga nanúnoòd kung alì ng pangkàt ang nanálo. Pagkárinig nilà nang paháyag nang hukòm ay agad-agàd inùumpisahàn ang pagisìgáwan at manga pagpúri sa nanálo ng pangkàt. Ang mànanalò ng pangkàt at ang kanila ng manga kaybígan magkakasáma ng tinùtugtugàn nang kanila ng bànda nang músika ay agàd-agàd na nagpàpaséyo sa manga lugàr na malápit sa kanilà ng pinaglaruàn. Kinàbukásan ang lahàt nang nangyári ay nàkìkíta sa manga pàhayagàn. Ang ganitò ng manga paglalarò nang sípa ay hindí karanyúwan sa manga báya ng maliliìt sa provìnsiya, dátapuwat sa malalakì lámang na báyan, gáya nang Mayníla` at iba pà. 13. ANG KÚRA NG SI PATÚPAT. Sa báya-ng-San-Migèl ay máy-roo ng nagtirà ng isa ng táo noò ng manga hulì ng áraw nang panahòn nang Kastìla`. Ang táo ng itò y nagáral at sa kanya ng katalinúhan ay nàintindihan nyà ang manga masamà ng palákad nang manga kúra na sya ng manga maliliìt na háre sa kanila ng bayàn-bayàn. Sa San-Migèl ang kúra ng nàdistíno ay isa ng mabagsìk at maínit ang úlo. Ang táwag sa kanyà nang manga táo ay "si Patúpat." Isa ng linggo ang táwu ng nábanggìt sa itaàs nitò ay naparoòn sa simbáhan úpang makinìg nang sèrmon nang páre`. Sapagkàt ang pári ng itò ay nagakála ng manga walà ng pinagarálan ang kanyà ng sinèsèrmunan ay hindí sya nagpílit na makapagsalità ng matwìd nang Tagálog. Ang kanya ng pananalità` ay walà ng púno t dúlo, at halù-hálo ng pára ng kalámay. Gayon dìn ang kanya ng isinèsèrmun ay hindí nàìibà sa infiyèrno, purgatóriyo, manga salbáhi ng táo-ng-báyan, at katapusàn nang mundò. Nang ang sèrmon nya ay nagumpisa nà, pumások sa simbáhan ang áti ng kaybíga ng si Pransìsko. Gáya nang karanyúwan inumpisahàn nang kúra ang kanya ng sèrmon sa ganitò ng pananalità`: "Manà kapatìr-konkristyános!" May ápat na pu ng taòn na sya sa lúpa ng Katagalúgan, ay hindí pa nya nàtutúha ng sabíhi ng matwìd ang "Mangà kapatìd-Kongkristyános." Si Pransìsko ay nàtàtayú sa isa ng lugàr na malápit sa pùlpito, pinakinggàn nya ng mabúte ang sèrmon na noò y wala ng ibà kung hindí ang makàlìlíbo nà ng inúlit nang pári ng itò, at iyò y úkul sa manga hírap sa infiyèrno at purgatóriyo at pagtutúlus nang kandíla` at pagbibigày nang kwàlta sa simbáhan úpang màligtasàn ang manga hírap na iyòn. Si Pransìsko ay siniglàn nang malakì ng gálit, sapagkàt nàpagkilála nya na nilòlóko nang páre ang kanyà ng manga táo, at walá sya ng ibà ng pákay kung hindí ang takútin lámang ang manga namàmáyan úpang kanilà ng payamánin ang simbáhan at manga kúra. Pagkaraàn nang sèrmon ay hindí umwé si Kíko na gáya nang karanyúwan, dátapuwat hinantày nya ng matápus ang mísa. Pagkaraàn nitò y nagpáiwan syà sa simbáhan. Kumúha sya nang manga papèl at sumúlat sya sa páre nang ganitò: "Ámong, nárinìg ko pò` ang inyu ng sèrmon kanína ng umága. Nàpagkìkilála ko na kayò y nanìniwála ng may infiyèrno at may purgatóriyo. Akò y walà ng paniwála díto. Sa linggo ng dárating, kung íbig mo, prubahàn mo sa iyo ng sèrmon sa manga táo na máy-roo ng infyèrno at purgatóriyo. Pagkatápos pùprubahàn kò namàn sa kanilà na walà ng infiyèrno ni purgatóriyo. Kung ikàw ang paniwaláan nang manga táo hindí báli ng ipabítay mo akò dahilàn sa áki ng pagkatálo at hindí paniniwála`. Dátapuwat, kung akò y manálo ang hiníhiling ko lámang sa iyò ay pabayaàn mo akò ng makapagsábi sa madlà` na walà ng infyèrno ni purgatóryo." Ang ilà ng kópya nang súlat na ytò ay idinikìt nya sa manga padèr nang simbáhan at ang isà y ipinaabòt nya sa kúra. Nang itò y màbása ni Patúpat sumubò ang kanya ng dugò`, at walà ng pagkàsyahàn ang kanya ng gálit. Ipinatáwag nya ang manga gwàrdya-sibìl, at sa gabi dìn nang linggò ng iyòn ay pinapanhikàn at pinahanápan nya ang manga bahày-bahày sa boo ng báyan, úpang hulíhin si Kíko`. Dátapuwat si Kíko ay hindí nila nàhúle. Nang hápon dì ng iyòn ay ibinalíta ni Kíko sa ilàn nya ng matálik na kaybígan ang kanyà ng ginawà`, at silà y nangàpamanghà`. Itinanòng nilà kung bákit niya ginawá iyòn at kung hindí nya napagkùkúro ang mangyàyári sa kanyà. Ang isà sa kanilà y nagsábi nang ganitò: "Magbalòt ka nà nang damìt, at umalìs ka ngayon dìn, kung hindí mo gustò ng màhúli ka nang manga sundálo ni Patúpat at maipabarìl ka kinàbukásan." Si Kíko ay áyaw sumunòd sa kanyà ng páyo, sapagkàt inakálà nya ng tàtanggapìn ni Patúpat ang kanya ng hámon tungkòl sa pagpapakilála sa manga táo na walà ng infiyèrno ni purgatóriyo at ang manga itò y panghúle lámang nang manga páre nang kwàlta. Kanyá sya y nagpaábot nang gabì sa báhay nang isa nyà ng kaybígan. Nang dumilim nà at ang báya y nagúgulo dahilàn sa paghahanàp nang manga gwàrdya-sibìl ay saká pa lámang nya nàpagkilála ang malakì ng pangánib na kanyà ng kinàbìbingítan. Sapagkàt itò y nàbalitáan nya agàd, kanyá nagkaroòn sya nang panahò ng makapagtágo sa isa ng líhim na súlok sa báhay nang kanya ng kaybígan. Nang makaraàn ang manga paghahanapàn sya y lumabàs sa kanya ng taguàn, umwí sya, nagbalòt nang ilà ng damìt, nagpasingkàw nang isa ng karumáta, at pagkakúha nya nang manga bála nang barìl, binitbìt nya ang barìl, sumakày sya sa karumáta, at napahatìd sa labàs nang báyan. Pagkaraàn nang ila ng áraw ay namundok syà, kasáma nang ilà ng manga táo-ng-báyan na hindí makatirà sa loòb nang báyan, sapagkàt nàkagalítan sila nang kúra o nang iba pà ng Kastíla ng may katungkúlan sa báyan. Díto sa pamumundok nyà sya y inabútan nang paghihìmagsíkan lában sa manga Kastíla` nang taò ng isa ng líbo walo ng daàn walò ng pu t ánim. 14. SI MARYÁNO AT ANG PÁRI NG SI PATÚPAT. Si Maryáno ay isà sa íila ng botikáriyo sa báya-ng-San-Migèl. Sya y nagìng isà sa manga nasawi-ng-pálad dahilàn sa pagswày sa manga kautusàn nang kúra ng si Patúpat. Sya y may famíliya; bukòd sa asáwa ay may dalawà sya ng anàk, isà ng dadalawáhi ng taòn at isà ng kabàbágu ng panganàk pa lámang. Isa ng áraw ang kanyà ng alíla ay nagkasakìt. Sya y may bayàw na médiko, kanyá ang alíla` ay ipinagamùt nya díto na walà ng báyad, at ang gamòt namàn ay ibinigày nya na walà ng báyad sa alíla`. Nang makaraàn ang ilà ng áraw ay gumalìng ang alíla` at itò y nagakála ng magpahingà ng sandalì` sa búkid. Kanyà` binayáran nya ang kanya ng útang at napaálam sya kay Maryáno úpang magtirà sa búkid. Hindí nalaúnan ang pagtitira nyà sa búkid at ang alíla ng itò y nagkasakìt na mulì`, at ang naging dúlo y ang kanya ng pagkamatày. Sa Filipínas nang manga panahò ng yaòn ay hindí maàári ng huwàg pabendisyunàn ang isa ng patày bágo mábaòn. Itò y hindí ipinahìhintúlot nang manga kúra, dátapuwat ang pagsasáma na hindí kasàl nang isa ng babáye at laláki ay hindí nila masyádo ng pinápansìn, palibhása y gawá rin namàn nilà. Ang patày na alílà ni Maryáno ay lubhà ng mahírap at ang kanyà ng manga kamagának ay mahihírap dìn at walà ng ikakáya ng magbáyad sa halagà na sinísingìl ni Patúpat. Dáhil díto y walà ng magpabaòn sa katawàn nang alíla`. Nang màláman itò ni Patúpat ay ipinatáwag nya si Maryáno at sinábi nya ng siyà ang dápat magpabaòn sa patày at siyà ang magbáyad nang gàstos. Sa akálà ni Maryáno ay lumálampàs ang kasalbahíhan ni Patúpat. Kanyá sinábi nya na hindi nyà sya bàbayáran sa pagbabaòn nang patày, káhit na anò ang mangyáre. Si Patúpat ay sinubhàn nang gálit. Ipinabaòn niya ang patày at sa áraw di ng iyòn ay naparoòn sya sa hùkúman at ipinagsakdàl nya si Mariyáno úpang pagbayáran siyà nang gàstos sa pagbebendisyòn sa patày. Nang dumatìng ang paghuhùkúman si Maryáno y naparoòn at nang itinanòng nang hukòm kung anò ang íbig nya ng sabíhin tungkòl sa sakdàl na iyòn, ay sinábi nya itò ng sumúsunòd: "Ginoò ng Hwès, ang namatày na iyòn ay walá na sa áki ng kapangyaríhan, sapagkàt hindí ku nà sya alíla nang sya y namatày. Noo ng syà y máy sakit pa lámang ay ipinagamòt ko syà ng wala ng báyad, at binigyàn ko syà ng wala ng báyad nang gamòt. Nagawá ku nà ang áki ng katungkúlan sa áki ng kápuwa táo at ang katungkúla ng iniyátas sa ákin ni Bathála`. Isà sa manga katungkúlan nang manga párè` ay ang magpabaòn nang manga patày. Ngayò ng ang táo ng iyòn ay patay nà, bákit namàn hindí magawá nang pári ng itò ang kanya ng katungkúlan na walà ng úpa, yámang ito namàn ay hindí mangyàyári kung may káya ang manga kamagának nang namatày?" Pagkaraàn nang manga ilan pà ng manga tanòng nang hukòm sa kúra at kay Mariyáno ay tinápus nya ang paghuhùkúman, at ipinaháyag nya ng si Mariyáno ay nása katwíran at ang kúra y dápat magpasyènsya sa pagkábendisyon nyà nang patày na wala ng úpa. Nang makaraàn itò y lálu ng lumakì ang gálit ni Patúpat kay Maryáno, at pagkaraàn nang ilà ng áraw ay ipinagsakdàl niya ng mulí si Mariyáno. Ngayòn ay iba namàn ang kanya ng sakdàl. Isinakdàl niya sa hùkúman na si Maryáno ay isà ng Masòn, sapagkàt sya y hindí nagsísimbà nì hindí nangúngumpisàl nì hindí rin nagmàmáno sa páre`. Ang manga Masòn ay kaáway nang Romanìsmo at sa makatwìd ay kaáway dìn nang pàmahalaàn sa Filipínas nang manga panahò ng iyòn, at dáhil díto y kanya ng ipináyo na si Maryáno y ipatápon sa ibà ng lupaìn. Nang màbalitáan ni Maryáno ang sakdàl na yitò ni Patúpat ay inakálà nya ng walá na sya ng pagása kung hindí ang magtagò o umílag sa mangà manghuhúli sa kanyà. Kanyà` ang ginawá nya ay lumwàs sya sa Mayníla` at doòn sya nagtagò`. Dátapuwat doon màn ay nàhúli rìn syà nang manga gwàrdya-sivìl. Kasáma nang pitò o walò ng taga iba t ibà ng báyan sya y inilúlan sa isà ng bapòr at dinalà sila sa ibabá nang kapuluà-ng-Filipínas. At doòn pagdatìng nilà ang ibà sa kanila ng magkakasáma ay pinagbábarìl nang manga sundálo ng naghatìd sa kanilà, sapagkàt iyòn ang útos nang pinúno ng nagpatápon sa manga táo ng iyòn. Dátapuwat si Maryáno y hindí naging isà sa manga nábaril na iyòn. Doòn sya nátirà hanggàng sa pananálo nang manga Amerikáno ay nagkaroòn sya nang kalayáa ng makabábalik sa kanya ng famíliya. Nang itò y datnan nyà ang isa nyà ng anàk ay pitò na ng taòn ang gúlang at ang ikalawà namàn ay limà na ng taòn. 15. ANG INTSÌK NA MÀNGANGÁTAM. Si Hwàn ay isa ng alwáge na may kápit-báhay na Intsèk na aluwáge rìn. Ang Intsèk na ytò ay isa ng magalìng na alwáge at ang kanya ng kínis ay nàpagkìkilála sa magalìng nya ng paggámit nang katàm. Isa ng áraw nakábili syà nang isa ng piráso-ng-káhoy na may ápat na pu ng paà ang hába`. Itù y kanya ng nilínis. Sinubúkan nya kung makakùkúha syà nang pinagkatamàn na walà ng patìd sa boò ng hábà nang káhoy. Dahilàn sa húsay nang kanyà ng kasangkápan at sa kanyà ng kabutíhan sa pagaalwáge, ang bágay na yòn ay nagìng pára ng walà ng ano màn sa kaniyà. Twì ng isùsúlung niya ang katàm ay nakakùkúha nang pinagkatamàn na walà ng patìd, ápat na pu ng paà ang hába`. Úpang ipakilála nya sa kápit-báhay niya ng aluwági ng Tagálog ang kanyà ng galìng, itò y kanyà ng pinadalhàn nang isa ng pinagkatamàn áraw-áraw. Ang aluwági ng Tagálog na si Hwàn ay nàpagúlat sa galìng nang Intsèk. Úpang gantihìn nya ang kanyà ng manga tinanggàp na pinagkatamàn, sinubúkan dìn nyà ng kumatàm at ipadalà sa Intsèk ang pinagkatamàn. Dátapuwat ang pinakamahábà nya ng nàkúha na pinagkatamàn ay may-roon lámang na labì ng limà ng paà. Itò y kahyá-hiyà ng ipadalà sa Intsèk. Si Hwàn ay magalìng gumámit nang daràs at siya y nakapagpàpakínis nang tablà sa pamamagítan lámang nang daràs. Hindí na kayilánga ng gamítan nang katàm ang ano mà ng káhoy na kanya ng darasìn, dátapuwat ang pinagdarasàn ay manga tátal na maiiklí lámang, hindí súkat pagkàkilanlàn nang kanyà ng galìng, at hindí nya màipadalà sa Intsèk. Hábang si Hwàn ay walà ng màláma ng gawìn, ang Intsìk namàn ay hindí naglúlubày nang pagpapadalà nang pinagkatamà ng mahahába`. Siniglàn si Hwàn nang gálit. Sinunggabàn nya ang kanya ng daràs at pinarunàn nya ang Intsèk. Itò y nàpagúlat at natákot nang màkíta si Hwàn. Sinábe nitò: "Anò ang gustu mu ng sabíhin sa manga ipinagpapadalà mo ng pinagkatamàn sa ákin? Akò y binuwísit mo at itò y iyo ng pagbàbayáran. Pùputúlin ko ang buhuk mò sa pamamagítan nang daràs na itò." Ang Intsèk ay natákot, sapagkàt, pag ang úlo nya y tinamaàn na nang daràs na iyòn, ay pího ng hindí sya mabùbúhay. Sya y nagkàkawalà`, dátapuwat sinunggabàn sya ni Hwàn, iginápus sya sa bangkò`, at inumpisahàn nya ng dinaràs ang úlo nang Intsèk. Ang daràs ay isa ng kasangkápa ng malakì, gáya nang isà ng píko, at mabigàt, dátapuwat sa magalìng na kamày ni Hwàn itò y naging pára ng isa ng guntìng lámang. Ang lagpàk nang daràs sa úlo nang Intsìk ay lubhà ng banáyad, at ang manga buhòk lámang ang pinùpútol nang patalìm. Sa tákot nang Intsèk itò y nagsisigàw na sinábe: "Wapélo! Daluhàn ninyò kò, masamà táo si Hwàn, hindí Kilistyáno!" Itò y nárinig nang manga kápit-báhay at ibà ng nagsìsipaglakàd. Kanyá pumások silà sa gàwáan nang Intsèk at doòn ay sinábi sa kanilà ni Hwàn: "Hwag kayù ng makialàm díto! Ang Intsìk na yitò y hindí ko sinàsaktàn. Ákin lámang pinùputlàn nang buhòk." At patúluy dìn ang kanyà ng pagdaràs. Nang mapútul na nya ng lahàt ang buhòk nang Intsèk ay malakì ang nagìng pagkámanghà nang nagsìsipanoòd, sapagkàt ang buhòk nang Intsèk ay pára ng ginupìt nang guntìng nang isa ng bihasà ng barbéro. Ang Intsìk namàn, nang màkíta nya sa salamìn na wala ng súgat ang kanya ng úlo, ay malaki rìn ang nagìng pagkámanghà`, at hindí mapatìd ang pagpúri nya sa galìng ni Hwàn sa paggámit nang daràs. 16. ISA NG TÁO NG MAY BIRTÙD NANG USÀ. Mínsan sa isa ng báyan sa kapuluà-ng-Filipínas ay náhayàg ang pangálan nang isa ng táo sa kanya ng manga kababáyan at manga kápit-báyan, dahilàn sa hindí karanyúwa ng lakàs nya sa pagtakbò at pagluksò. Sya y isa ng táo ng hindí mayábang, dátapuwat may kauntì ng talíno sa paghahánap at gayon dìn may kauntì ng tápang. Ang kanya ng hindí karanyúwa ng kapaláran ay hindí nya ipinagmayabàng ní hindí nya ipinagkayilà` kung anò ang pinanggàgalíngan nang kanyà ng dí karanyúwa ng lakàs. Sinábi nya sa mangà mapagusísa` na ang pinanggàgalíngan nang kanya ng lakàs ay ang angkìn niya ng birtùd nang usà. Hindí nya sinábe kung papáno ang pagkápasa kanyà nang birtùd na iyòn, dátapuwat siya y hindí marámot sa pagbibigày-loòb úpang ikatúlung niya sa mangà kakilála o hindì` ang kanya ng lakàs. Sya y may pagíbig na yumáman, gáya nang karamíhan nang táo, at díto nya ginámit ang kanya ng lakàs. Paráti sya ng nakìkipagtakbúhan, at ang manga takbúha ng itò y lágì na ng pinagkatalunàn nang marámi ng salapè`. Sya ay lágì na ng may malakì ng pustà. Walá sya ng itinángì na pinakìkipagtakbuhàn. Kung mìnsan nakìkipagtakbúhan sya sa kápwa táo, kung mínsan ay sa kabáyo, sa áso, at sa iba pà ng háyop na matúli ng tumakbò. Pagkaraàn nang ila ng áraw ay dumámi ang naípon nya ng salapì` na pinanalúnan sa pustáhan. Gayon dìn ang kanya ng manga kaybígan na nagsipustà sa kanyà ay nagkaroòn nang marámi ng kwàlta. Nang màpagaláman nang manga táo na syà y may birtùd nang usà ay hindí na sya íbig labánan sa takbúhan. Dáhil díto y úpang hwag máhinto` ang kanya ng pananálo at pagkíta nang kwaltà, ay nagbíbigay syà nang malalakì ng palúgit sa kanya ng kinàkalában. Dáhil sa kalakhàn nang manga palúgit na ibinigay nyà ay marámi rì ng táo ng lumában sa kanyà. Dátapuwat tuwí nà y sya ang nagìng mànanalò. Gayon dìn sa manga pakikipagluksúhan paráti nà ng syà ang nanànálo. Dátapuwat, kung malaki màn ang kabutíha ng nàkamtan nyà sa birtùd na ytò, ay máy-ron dì ng ilà ng kahirápan na nàkamtan nyà dahilan díto. Dahilan dìn sa kahirápa ng itò ay hindí nya natagalà ng angkinìn hábang búhay nya ang birtùd na iyòn. Dahilàn sa birtùd na iyòn sya y nagìng lubhà ng magugulatìn. Ang manga kalabòg, íngay, at tahòl nang áso kung gabì ay hindí nagpatúlug sa kanyà. Dahilàn sa manga íngay na yitò, kung natùtúlug sya ay palági ng nàpàpaluksò. Lálù na, kung isa ng tahòl nang áso, halimbáwa`, ang makàgísing sa kanyà, sya y nàpàpaluksò nang lubhà ng mataàs sa kanyà ng hihigàn, at bágo sya pagsa-ulàn nang saríle, ay nagtàtatakbò na syà. Sa pagluksu nyà ng itò na hindí sinásadya` ay walá sya ng nagíging pagiíngat at karanyúwa y umáabot syà sa ituktòk nang bubungàn, at sa kababáan nitò y lági ng nalálamog ang kanya ng katawàn o kayà y nagkàkabúkul syà sa úlo, dahilàn sa pagkáhampas nyà sa bubungàn. Gayon dìn sa kanya ng hindí sinásadya ng pagtakbò pagkágising nyà dahilàn sa pagkàgúlat, ay nagkàkaumpòg-umpòg ang boò ng katawan nyà sa manga dindìng nang kanya ng báhay. Itò y isà ng mahírap na tìísin, at inakálà nya ng hindí sya mabùbúhay nà ng malwàt dahilàn sa hindí pagkàkatúlog kung gabì. Kanyá inakálà nya ng itápon ang birtùd na ytò pagkaraàn nang ilà ng áraw. Nang sumápit ang ikapitù ng áraw nang kanya ng pagaáre` sa birtùd ay sya y lubhà ng hirap nà at inakálà nya ng sya y mamámatay nà sa hírap. Ang úlu nya ay bukulàn. Ang mukhá nya ay marámi ng pasà` at káhit na hindí sya nabalían nang butò, ang manga lamàn namàn nya ay lubhà ng lamòg. Dáhil díto y walà ng kibú sya ng naparoòn sa isa ng párang at itinápon nya doòn ang birtùd na nàpúlut nya, yámang marámi na rìn lámang siya ng salapì ng pinanalúnan. 17. ANG ALÍLA NG UNGGÒ`. Siy Andrès ay máy-roo ng isa ng alíla ng unggò na kanyà ng lubhà ng minámahàl, sapagkàt ang unggu ng itò y nagbíbigay sa kanyà nang malakì ng serbísyo. Kung gabì ipinaglàlátag sya nang banìg nang unggo ng itò; kung umága ay iniháhandà` ang kanyà ng panghilámos, at ang ano mà ng kanya ng iyútos ay sinúsunod nang unggò`. Gabì-gabì ang unggu ng itò y natùtúlog sa ilálim nang kátri ng tinùtulúgan nang kanya ng panginoòn. Itò y hindí gustò nang kanya ng panginoòn, sapagkàt, dahilàn sa kanya ng malakì ng kabuluhàn, ay íbig ni Andrès na syà y bigyàn nang isa ng mabúte ng lugàr na tulugàn. Dátapuwat, káhit na gánu ng pagpílit ang gawìn ni Andrès, ay hindí nya mapatúlog sa ibà ng lugàr ang kanya ng alíla ng unggò`. Siy Andrès ay isa ng táwu ng may tákot at pagíbig sa Dyòs. Kanyá gabi-gabì bágu sya matúlog ay nagkúkurus syà at tumàtáwag sya sa Dyòs. Sa óras nang kanya ng paghigà gabi-gabì ay dinàratnan nà nyà na nása ilálim nang kanya ng kátri ang unggò`. Mínsan màn ay hindí sya náuna sa paghigà` sa unggu ng itò. Isa ng áraw ang párì sa báyan ay dumálaw kay Andrès sa kanya ng báhay. Pagkaraàn nang ilà ng sandalì ng pagsasàlitáan ay ibinalítà niy Andrès sa páre` na sya y máy-roo ng isà ng alíla ng unggò na lubhà ng malakì ang kabuluhàn, sapagkàt sya y pinagsìsilbihà ng mabúte, at káhit na anò ang iyútos nya ay sinúsunod, at sinábi pa nyà ng masípag pa káy sa manga iba nyà ng alíla` ang unggo ng iyòn. Malakì ang nagìng pagtatakà nang páre`, at hiniling nyà ng ipakíta sa kanyà ang unggò ng iyòn. Kanyá tináwag ny Andrès ang unggò`. Hindí gáya nang dáti, na sa isà ng táwag lámang niy Andrès ay lumàlápit agad-agàd ang unggò`, ngayòn makása-m-pu ng táwag nà ay walá pa syà. Siy Andrès ay nagálit, nagtindìg, at hinánap nya sa manga sulok-sulòk nang báhay ang unggò`. Ito y nàkíta nya sa isa ng súlok at nakakápit na mabúte sa isa ng halíge. Tináwag nya at kanya ng pinaáalis sa súlok, dátapuwat ang unggò y áyaw umalìs doòn, káhit na anò ang gawìn sa kanyà. Dáhil díto ay tináwag nya ang páre`, úpang itò y doòn tingnàn sa súlok ang alílà nya ng unggò`. Pagkálapit nang páre` ang unggò y kuminìg sa tákot. Nagkaroòn nang hinálà ang párè` na ang unggù ng iyòn ay isà ng dimónyo. Kanyà` ang ginawá nya y nagkurùs sya at pagkabendisyòn nya nang kauntì ng túbig ay niwisikàn nya ang unggò`. Pagdápo` sa katawàn nitò nang túbig ay pumutòk na pára ng isa ng barìl, at sa lugàr nang unggò` ay walá silà ng nàkíta kung hindí asu lámang na agàd nawalà`. Pagkaraàn nitò siniyásat nang páre si Andrès tungkùl sa kanya ng paniniwála sa Diyòs. Sinábi ny Andrès na hindí nabàbágo ang matíbay nya ng paniniwála` at gabi-gabì nagdádasal syà bágo matúlog. Siniyásat dìn nang páre` kung saàn tumùtúlog ang unggò`. Sinábe ni Andrès na itò y tumúlog gabi-gabì sa ilàlim nang kanyà ng kátri ng tulugàn. Pagkaraàn nitò y ipinakilála sa kanyà nang páre` na ang unggù ng iyòn ay isà ng dimónyo na umáabàng sa kanyà, at kung syà y sumála nang pagtáwag sa Diyòs bágu matúlog, sa gabì di ng iyòn ay ihùhúlug sya nang dimónyo sa infyèrno. 18. ANG MATANDÁ SA PUNSÒ SA LIWÁNAG NANG ÁRAW. Si Pédro ay isà ng matápang na laláke. Paráti sya ng nakárinig nang manga kwènto tungkùl sa asuwàng, duwèndi, mangkukúlam, at mangà matandá sa punsò, dátapuwat ang ipinagtátakà ni Pédro ay kung bákit hindí sya makátagpo nì káhit isà nang mangà bágay na itò. Íbig niya ng makàkíta nang isa man lámang sa kanilà, úpang màláman nya kung túnay ngà` na silà y máy-roo ng manga kapangyaríha ng hindí karanyúwan sa karamíhan nang táo. Sya y naglálakàd na isa ng gabì sa isà ng lugàr na madilìm at pinagkàkatakutàn, sapagkàt díto y marámi ng nakàkíta nang matandá sa punsò. Ang tabáko nang matanda ng itò y nakatàtákot ang lakì, at kung itò y hititin nyà ang liwánag na nangyàyári ay pára ng liwánag nang isà ng sigà`. Sa gabi ng iyòn sa kanyà ng paglalakàd maláyù pa syà y nakàkíta na syà nang isà ng liyàb. Ang buhuk nyà y nagsitindìg at inakálà nya ng bumalìk, dátapuwat nàpigílan nya ang kanyà ng tákot at ipinatúloy din nyà ang kanya ng paglákad. Sya y sinalúbong nang nagtàtabáko. Pagkálapit nya y inanínaw nya ang katawàn nang matandà ng iyòn, dátapuwat hindí rin nasyahàn ang kanya ng pagsisyásat, kanya iníbig nya ng màkíta sa síkat nang áraw ang matandà ng iyòn. Úpang itù y mangyári dápat nya ng pigílin ang matandà`, sapagkàt ang manga ispíritu ng itò ay bumábalik sa kanilà ng tàhánan sa impyèrno o iba pa mà ng lugàr sa paglápit nang umága. Kanyà` ang ginawá nya y hinawákan nya agàd ang matandà`. Ito y nakipagbunò sa kanyà. Kung mínsan sya y nása ilálim, kung mínsan sya y nása ibábaw, dátapwat hindí nya pinakawalàn ang matandà`. Mahigpìt na mahigpìt ang kanya ng kápit at tinalaga nyà ng sumáma káhit na saàn sya dalhìn nang matandà kung itò y malakàs káy sa kanyà. Silà y nagbunò hanggàng alastrès. Si Pédro sa óras na itò ay pagòd na pagod nà at malakì ang panglalatà`, dátapuwat hindí rin nya binitáwan ang kanyà ng kabunò`. Nang magàalaskwàtru nà ay naglubày nang pagkílos ang kanya ng háwak. Nang makaraàn ang kalaháti-ng-óras ang sínag nang áraw ay nagumpisa nà nang pagtanglàw sa kanilà, dátapuwat hindí pa rìn lubhà ng maliwánag úpang màpagkilála ni Pédro kung anò ang kanyà ng tángan. Nang dumatìng ang alasìngko ay malaki nyà ng pagkámangha`, nang màkíta nya ng sya y nààákap sa isà ng halígi ng hindí lubhà ng mataàs káy sa kanyà, dátapuwat nàtùtúlus sa lúpà at sunòg na sunòg. 19. ANG TIYÁNAK NI HWÀN. Isa ng gabè si Hwàn ay tumawìd sa ílog sa kanya ng paglilibòt. Nang sya y nása pasígan pa lámang, nakáramdam syà nang sábuy nang buhángin sa kanya ng likòd, nang sya y mátuntung nà sa kabuhangínan. Nang úna ng gabè itò y hindí nya ininò. Nang ikalawà ng gabè, nang magdaàn sya ng ulè sa pasíga ng itò, nakáramdam sya ng mulí nang sábuy nang buhángin sa kanya ng likòd. Inakálà nya ng subúkan at hulíhin ang nagsàsábuy sa kanyà nang buhángin, kanyà` sa kanya ng paglákad ay pamínsan-mínsan sya ng pumìpíhit na pabiglà` sa kanya ng likuràn, dátapwat walá sya ng màkíta káhit na anò. Dáhil díto y siniglàn siya nang kaunti ng tákot at inakálà nya ng baká kung anù ng matandá sa punsò o tiyának ang kanya ng nàkàkatúngo. Kanyá` tinulínan nya ang pagtakbò, dátapuwat hábang nagtùtúlin sya ay lálu namà ng dumádalas ang pagdápù nang buhángin sa kanya ng likòd. Lumakì ang kanya ng tákot at dáhil díto y bumalik syà sa kanya ng báhay na patakbò nang úbus-lakàs. Nang dumatìng sya doòn ay hinàhábul nya ang kanya ng hiningà at hindí sya makaúsap. Nang sya y makapaghinga nà nang kauntè` ay saká pa lámang sya nakasagòt sa marámi ng manga tanòng nang kanya ng amà at iba pà ng kasa-ng-bahày. Sinábi nya sa kanya ng amà na sya y sinùsundàn nang manga dwènde sa kanya ng paglalakàd at sinàsabúyan sya nang buhángin. Itinanòng nang kanya ng amà kung saàn ang lugàr na iyòn at sinábi nya ng sa pasígan nang ílog. Ang kanya ng amà ay nápahalakhàk nang táwa at sinábi nya ng iyòn ay hindí dwènde, dátapuwat ang kanyà lámang paà ang nagtátangày nang buhángin sa kanya ng likòd sa báwat kanya ng paghakbàng. Dátapuwat si Hwàn ay áyaw maniwála` at máy ila ng áraw na hindí sya nanáog nang báhay. Dáhil díto y iníbig nang kanya ng amà na màipakilála sa kanyà ang katotohánan nang kanya ng sinábe, at isa ng gabè ay sinábi nya kay Hwàn na sya y magpasyàl at magdaàn sa lugàr di ng iyòn at sya y kanyà ng sàsamáhan. Pumáyag si Hwàn at sila ng dalawà y naparoòn sa pasígan. Nang dumatìng na sila doòn ay nagpahúle ang ama ni Hwàn. Nang itu namàn ay naglálakad nà sa kabuhangínan at nang sya y nakáramdam nang sábuy nang buhángin sa likòd, siniglàn sya ng mulí nang tákot at isinigàw nya sa kanya ng amà na nagumpisa nà nang pagsábuy nang buhángin sa kanya ng likòd. Pinabalìk nya si Hwàn at kanya ng pinalákad na mulè`. Ngayòn ay sinùsundan nyà sa likuràn. Dáhil díto y nàkíta nang ama ni Hwàn na twì ng sya y háhakbàng ang sinélas na soòt nya ay nagtátangày nang buhángin, at sa pagaalsà nitò nang paà ang buhángi ng tangày ay napàpasábuy sa likòd ni Hwàn. Ang ginawá nang kanya ng amà ay ipinaalìs ang soòt nya ng sinélas at pinalákad sya ng mulì`. Ngayòn, káhit na gáno kaláyo` ang lakáran ni Hwàn ay walá na sya ng nàràramdamà ng sábuy nang buhángin sa kanya ng likòd. Mulá noon ay nawalàn sya nang tákot sa manga matandà`, duwènde, asuwàng, at iba pà ng pinagkàkatakutàn. 20. SI HWÀ NG MANGLILÍGAW. Ang dalága ng si Maryà ay balíta nang gandà sa kanya ng báriyo. Dátapuwat walà ng manglilígaw sa kanyà, líban na lámang kay Hwàn. Ngúnit ang amà ni Maryà ay malakì ang pagkáayaw kay Hwàn. Hindí màkaúsap ni Hwàn ang nilìligáwan kung hindí palihìm, sapagkàt pag nàláman nang amà ni Maryà, itò y sinàsaktan silà kápwa` sa pamamagítan nang pamálò`. Kung mìnsan at malakì ang gálit nang amà ay bambò ang ginàgámit nya kay Hwàn, at sa ganitò y malápit sya ng mabalían nang butò káylan man at sila y màhúli sa paguúsap. Isa ng gabì ng madilìm ang amà ni Mariyà ay naglibòt. Nang itò y màláman ni Hwàn pinarunàn nya si Mariyà úpang kausápin. Nalibàng sila sa paguúsap, kanyá sila y dinatnàn nang amà ni Maryà sa kanya ng pagwè`. Siniglàn sya agàd nang gálit at pasigàw nya ng kinaúsap si Hwàn: "Anu kà, salbáhe? Sinábi ku nà sa iyò ng hwag kà ng tútuntong díto sa áki ng pamamáhay. Ano ang íbig mo t nàrìrito kà?" At pagkasábe nitò y sinunggabàn nya ang isa ng bisìg nang kawáyan at inakmaàn nya ng bambuhìn si Hwàn. Sa malaki ng tákot nitò ay nagtalòn sya sa bintánà`, dátapuwat sinundàn din syà nang amà. Kanyá ang ginawá nya y tumakbò sya nang úbus-lakàs. Ang gabì ay madilìm na pára ng úling, at hindí nya màtumpakàn kung saàn ang parunàn, dátapuwat patúloy rin sya nang pagtakbò. Nagkangdadápà sya sa pagtakbò, dátapwat maligsi syà ng nagbàbángon at patúluy din sa pagtakbò. Hindí naláon at nakádaan sya nang isà ng malakì at maitìm na bágay. Nàkilála nya ng iyòn ay isa ng kalabàw, kanyá sya y lumundàg agàd sa likòd nitò, at kanya ng pinatakbò. Ang pagsakày sa kalabàw ay hindí lubhà ng mahírap sa kalapáran nang likòd nitò at sa kahináan nang takbò. Kanyà`, káhit na walà ng pamitìk si Hwàn ay dí natákot na sumakày. Sa kadilimàn nang gabì sa kanya ng pagsakày ay nangyári ng náharap sya sa buntútan nang kalabàw at hindí sa uluhàn. Pinatúlin nya ang kalabàw. Nangyári namà ng ang kalabàw na itò ay árì nang amà ni Maryà. Hindí nalaúnan at nakátanaw sya nang báhay na maílaw sa pinatùtungúhan nang kalabàw. Ang boò ng ása nyà ang báhay na iyòn ay sa kanya ng kápit-báhay. Kanyá bumabá sya sa kalabàw at patakbo syà ng pumanhìk sa báhay. Malakì ang nagìng pagkalitò nya at pagkatákot nang pagkápanhik nya y sinalúbong sya nang amà ni Maryà, at binambò sya sa katawàn at sinábi: "Anò t nagbalìk ka pà? Hindí ba pinaláyas na kità, wala ng hyà`?" Nang pagsa-ulàn si Hwàn nang kanya ng saríli ay nagtalòn sya sa batalàn at tumakbò sya ng mulí patúngo sa kanya ng báhay, dátapuwat ngayò y hindí na sya sumakày sa káhit anò pa màn. 21. SI MARIYÀ NG MARÁMOT. Nang nabùbúhay pa si Mariyà ay nátira syà sa kanya ng maínam na báhay sa gitná nang isa ng maláwak na bakúran na may magagandà ng hardìn at manga púnu-ng-káhoy. Sya y lubhà ng mayáman, kanyà` ang búhay nya y isa ng panày na kaginhawáhan. Hindí sya nakaratìng nang ápat na pu ng taòn sa gúlang at sya y namatày. Ang lahàt nang kanya ng yáman ay hinátì nya sa kanya ng kapatìd at sa simbáhan. Hindí nya nàalaála ang mahihírap nya ng kakilála at ilà ng kápit-báhay. Ang kapatìd na naíwan ay nagpamísa nang sunòd-sunòd sa loòb nang pito ng áraw, úpang ang káluluwa ni Mariyà ay papasúkin ni Sam-Pédro sa pintúan nang lángit. Nang ang kanya ng kapatìd ay nabùbúhay pa itò y balíta ng balítà sa karamútan. Siya mìsmo ay bihíra ng magpamísa o magpatúlos nang kandíla`. Ang manga pulúbi ng nagpàpalimòs, kung tumáwag sa kanyà, ay pinalàláyas nya at hindí nilìlimusàn. Kadalasàn ay ipinahàhábul pa nyà sa áso. Ang kanya ng manga kasamà ay pinapagtàtrabáho nya nang walà ng úpa, at kung kanya ng pakánin, ay wala ng úlam,--asìn at kánin lámang. Sa panunúyo sa kanyà nang kanya ng manga kasamà, twi ng silà y nagsìsiuwè` ay nagdádala sila nang manga manòk, itlòg, biìk, at manga búnga nang gúlay o haláman, úpang ibigày kay Maryà. Ang manga alaála ng itò ay hindí nila ibiníbigay dahilàn sa kanilà ng pagmamahàl kay Maryà, dátapwat pára ng isa ng súhol, úpang sila y hwag masiyádu ng alipustaìn sa kanilà ng pagparoòn sa kanya ng báhay. Kung si Maryà namàn ay lumálabas sa búkid sa kanya ng manga kasamà, ang báwat màkíta nya sa pamamáhay nila na kanya ng màgustuhàn ay kinùkúha nya nang wala ng kibò` at hindí nya binàbayáran. Kung halimbáwa y makàkíta sya sa kanya ng manga kasamà nang isà ng bágu ng yári ng bákol, biláo, bistày, bayòng, banìg, palayòk, lumbò, sandòk, kalàn, o iba pà ng kasangkápan sa báhay, ay kinùkúha nyà at ipinadádala nyà sa kanya ng báhay. Kung hindí nya magámit ang manga pinagkúkuha nyà ay ipinagbíbili nyà. Gayon dìn ang gawá nya sa manga háyop nang kanya ng manga kasamà. Dáhil díto y yumáman sya ng agàd. Nang sya y máy-roon nà ng tatlu ng áraw na namámatày, ang kanyà ng kapatìd ay nàròroòn sa kanyà ng báhay at doòn nagpàpalípas nang pagdadalamháte`. Isa ng hápun nang sya y naglálakad sa hàlamanàn, nátabi syà sa balòn na nása bakúran. Nàpagúlat sya, sapagkàt sa ilálim nang balòn ay may nárinig syà ng tumàtáwag sa kanya ng pangálan. Itinungu nyà ang kanya ng úlo sa balòn at doòn ay lálu ng nárinig nyà ng mabúte ang pagtáwag, dátapuwat walá sya ng màkíta ng táo na káhit anò. Sinábi nang bóses: "Áki ng kapatìd, akò ay si Mariyà. Ang ginawá ku ng pamumúhay na karamútan, kasakimàn, at kalupitàn ay áki ng pinagbàbayáran ngayòn. Akò ay nàrìrinè sa pàrusahàn ni Bathálà sa lahàt nang makasalánan. Kung maàárì ay hwàg mu akò ng tuláran, at ikaw sána y humánap nang paraàn úpang mahángo mo akò díto sa kumúkulu ng langìs na áki ng tìráhan ngayòn." Ang kanya ng kapatìd ay lubhà ng malakì ang nagìng pagkahápis, at sya y naparoòn agàd sa páre`, úpang ipagtanòng kung papáno ang paraà ng magágawà nyà úpang mahángo nya sa infyèrno ang kanyà ng kapatìd. Ipináyo nang pári` na sya y magsadyá sa isa ng báyan na máy-roo ng laráwan ni Sam-Pédro na milagróso. Ang laráwa ng itò ni Sam-Pédro ay nakìkipagúsap sa manga táo at naghàhátol nang sarì-sári ng paraàn úpang makapások sa lángit. Iyùn ang kanya ng milágro. Ang kapatìd ni Maryà ay nagsadyá agad-agàd sa báya ng kinàdòroonàn nang Sam-Pédro ng milagróso. Nang dumatìng sya roòn at nakìkipagúsap na syà kay Sam-Pédro, sinábi nya ang lahàt-lahàt. Sinábi nya ng ang sábi sa kanyà nang kanyà ng kapatìd ay ang kanya ng ginawà ng karamútan, kasakimàn, at kalupitàn ay sya nyà ng ikinahúlog sa infyèrno. "Kung gayòn," ang wíkà ni Sam-Pédro, "humánap ka nang káhit íisa ng táo, háyop, o haláman na ginawaàn nang iyo ng kapatìd nang isà ng kabàítan. Kung ikàw ay makàkíta nà, bumalik kà ng mulí sa ákin, at bìbigyàn kità nang paraà ng ikahàhángo mo sa hírap sa iyo ng kapatìd." Ang kapatìd ni Maryà ay umuwí agàd sa kanila ng báyan, at díto y nagusísà sya sa lahàt nang namàmáyan kung síno ang may útang na loòb sa kanya ng kapatìd o kayá kung síno ang kanya ng ginawàn o pinagsalitaàn nang mabúti. Dátapuwat káhit isà ay walà ng makasagòt. Ang manga háyop namàn sa manga kápit-báhay at sa bakúran ni Maryà ang kanya ng pinagusisà`, dátapuwat walá rin syà ng nàkíta na ginawaàn nang mabúti nang kanyà ng kapatìd. Ang isa ng áso ng buto t balàt ay nagsábi sa kanyà: "Isa ng hápon akò y gutòm na gutòm. Nakádaan akò sa kanyà ng bakúran nang isa ng butò. Itò y kinagat kò at áki ng dinádala, nang màkíta nya akò. Ipinahábol nya akò ng agàd, at nang bitíwan ko ang butò itò y ipinabaon nyà sa lúpa`. Iyan bà y isa ng kabàítan?" Lálu ng lumakì ang hápis nang kapatìd ni Mariyà at untì-untì ng nawáwalà ang kanya ng pagása na mahángo sa hírap ang kanya ng kapatìd. Inumpisahan nyà ng usisáin ang manga haláman sa bakúran nang kanya ng kapatìd. Inisa-isà nya ng lahàt ang manga kalabása, úpo, pipíno, síle, milòn, singkamàs, manè`, talòng, sítaw, at sibúyas, báwang, at iba pà ng gúlay. Sa kanilà y walá sya ng nàkíta nang kanya ng hinàhánap. Isinunòd namàn nyà ang manga púno-ng-káhoy. Siniyásat nya isà-isà ang manga púnò nang síko, anúnas, átis, mabúlo, súhà`, dalandàn, dáyap, at balúbad. Ngúnit walá ri ng nagìng katuturàn ang kanya ng págod; íisa na lámang pangkàt nang manga haláman ang hindí pa nya naùusísa`, at kung díto y hindí sya makàkíta nang kanya ng hánap, ay walá sya ng magágawà sa pagdudúsa nang kanya ng kapatìd. Nalíbot nya sila ng lahàt, dátapuwat walà ng nakapagsábi na tumanggàp sila nang isà ng gawà ng kabàítan sa kay Maryà. Sa kàhuli-hulíhan pumaroòn ang kapatìd sa tabì nang balòn, at doòn inusísà nya ng lahàt ang manga damò. Nang dumatìng ang gabì ay íisa na lámang na púnu-ng-damò ang hindí nya naùusísa`. Itò y nilapítan nya na punò ng punú nang tákot at pagása. Itinanùng nya sa púno nang damò na nàtàtanìm sa tabì nang balòn: "Nang nabùbúhay ba ang áki ng kapatìd, ay ginawàn ka nyà nang isà ng kabàítan?" Isinagòt nang damò: "Ó! Ang iyo bà ng kapatìd? Siyà ngà`, siyà ang nagbigày sa ákin nang bágo ng búhay. Noò ng tagáraw na nagdaàn, lantà ng lanta nà ang áki ng manga dáhon at akò y malápit na ng mamatày, dátapuwat ang iyò ng kapatìd ay nalígo` isa ng hápon sa tabì nang balo ng itò. Sa kanya ng pagpalígo` ay nàwisikan akò nang túbig at dáhil díto y lumakàs ako ng mulì`, at ang manga lantà ku ng dáhon ay nanaríwa ng muli`." Wala ng pagkàsyahàn ang naging tuwá nang kapatìd ni Maryà, at sa gabì ri ng iyòn ay nagbalìk sya kay Sam-Pédro. Binigyan syà ni Sam-Pédro nang isa ng dàsálan, at sinábi sa kanyà na umuwé sya at iláwit nya sa balòn ang dàsála ng iyòn. Tawágin nya si Maryà at pakapítin nya sa dàsálan, at dáhil díto y mahàhángù nya sa hírap ang kanya ng kapatìd. Nagbalìk sya ng agàd at sumìsíkat pa lámang ang áraw nang sya y dumatìng sa bakúran ni nasíra ng Maryà. Lumápit sya sa balòn, inilawit nyà ang dàsálan, at tináwag nya ang kanya ng kapatìd. Itò y lumitàw sa ibábaw nang túbig at humáwak sa dàsálan. Inumpisahàn nang kanyà ng kapatìd ang paghátak sa dàsálan at sya y nátaas nà untì-untè`. Sa paghángo ng itò sa kanyà ay máy-roo ng ibà ng káluluwa na íbig di ng makaalìs sa infyèrno. Kanyá silà y nagsikápit sa paà ni Maryà, nang màkíta nilà na itò y nahàhángù sa hírap. Dátapuwat nang ang paà ni Maryà ay sya na lámang nàlùlubòg sa túbig ang ginawá nya y ikinawàg nya ang dalawa ng paà, úpang ang manga káluluwa ng nàkàkápit sa kanyà ay mangàkabitàw. Nang itù y gawin nyà ay napatìd ang dàsálan at agad-agàd sya ng lumubùg sa balòn, at mulá noon ay hindí nà sya nàkaúsap nang kanya ng kapatìd. Bumalìk itò kay Sam-Pédro at ibinalíta` ang nangyáre, dátapuwat sinábe ni Sam-Pédro na walá na sila ng magágawa úpang mahángo sa infyèrno ang kanyà ng kapatìd. 22. TATLÒ NG KÁLULUWA NG TUMÁWAG KAY SAM-PÉDRO. Si Hwàn ay isa ng bágu ng táwu ng makísig. Dátapuwat nang dumatìng sya sa gúlang na dalawa ng pù t dalawà, sya y nagkasakìt nang malubhà` at dí nalaúnan at namatày siyà. Ang kanya ng káluluwa ay naparoòn sa lángit at tumuktòk sa pintúan nitò. Si Sam-Pédro ay sumagòt sa kanya ng pagtuktòk at itinanòng nitò: "Sínu ka? Anò ang sadyá mo ríto?" Isinagòt nang káluluwa ni Hwàn: "Akò ang káluluwa ni Hwàn. Buksan mò ang pintò`, at íbig ko ng pumások." Binuksàn nang bantay-pintò` ang pintúan, at bágu nya binayáa ng makapások ang káluluwa ni Hwàn ay sinyásat múna nya nang ganitò: "Ano ang dáhil at naparíto ka? Ano ang kabànála ng ginawá mo sa lúpa` at nagakálà ka ng nàbàbágay sa yò ang kaginhawáhan sa lángit? Ikàw bagà y may iníwa ng asáwa?" Ang káluluwa ni Hwàn ay nagsábi: "Nang akò y nása lúpà pa, madalàs aku ng magsimbà, magdasàl, at maglimòs, dátapuwat hindí ako nagkapálad na magasáwa." Isinagòt nang bantay-pintò`: "Hindí ka dápat magtamò nang kaginhawáhan sa lángit." At pagkàsábi nya nitò ay isinara nyà ang pintò`. Ang káluluwa ni Hwàn ay hindí nakapások sa lángit. Pagkaalìs ni Hwàn ay dumatìng namàn ang isa pa rì ng káluluwa. "Sínu ka? At bákit mo gustò ng pumások sa lángit? Ikaw bà y nagasáwa nang násàsa lúpà pà?" ang manga tanùng nang bantay-pintò`. Isinagòt nang káluluwa: "Akù y ang káluluwa niy Andrès. Nagasáwa akò nang akò y násàsa lúpà pa. Buksan mò ang pintò` at íbig ko ng pumások." Agad-agàd na binuksàn ni Sam-Pédro ang pintú nang lángit at pagkàkíta nya sa káluluwa niy Andrès ay sinábi nya: "Ó! Kàwáwa ng káluluwa! Sa mangà gáya mo nàtàtaàn at nàràrápat ang manga kaginhawáhan sa lángit. Pumásuk ka!" Ang káluluwa ni Andrès ay tuwa ng twá at pumások sa masayà ng tàhánan. Pagkásara nang pintò ay máy-roon na namà ng tumuktòk. "Sínu ka?" ang tanong ulí nang bantày. "Akò y ang káluluwa ni Mariyáno," ang sagòt nang tumuktòk. "Bákit ka naparíto? Bákit ka nagakála ng marápat ka ng magtamò nang lángit? Ikàw bagà y nagasáwa nang násàsa lúpa ka pà?" Sa manga tanùng na itò y isinagòt nang káluluwa ni Mariyáno: "Nang akò y násàsa lúpà pa madalàs akù ng magpamísa. Ang kalahátì nang yáman ko ay ibinigay kò sa simbáhan sa pagpapamísa at manga pagpapatugtòg nang kampána`. Ang nàipatúlus kò ng kandílà ay hindí mahìhíla nang tatlò ng kalabàw, at kung sa pagaasáwa namàn," idinugtung nyà, "akò y nagkaroòn nang dalawà. Nabáo akù at nagasáwa ng mulì`." "Áki ng ikinalúlungkot ang hindí ko pagkaári ng papasúkin kità. Ang manga lóku ng gáya mo ay wala ng lugàr díto sa kahariyàn nang lángit." At isinara nyà ang pintò`. 23. SI HWÀ NG BANGKÉRO. Isa ng áraw isa ng Kastíla` ay napatátawìd kay Hwàn sa kanya ng bangkà` sa ibáyo nang ílog. Ang Kastíla ng sakay nyà ay marúnung magsalitá nang Tagálog. Kanyà`, nang silà y nàlàlayú na sa pasígan, ay nagumpisa syà nang pakikipagúsap kay Hwàn. Ang Kastíla ng itò ay isa ng marúnong na táo, sigúro ng isa ng gurù ng balítà sa Espánya, at itò y nàpagkìkilála sa pagsasalitá nya kay Hwàn tungkùl sa heyugrafíya, aritmétika, at iba t ibà ng wíkà sa Ewrúpa. Nang matápus ang kanya ng pagsasalità`, ay nagtanùng syà kay Hwàn nang ganitò: "Ikàw ba y nagáral nang hewgrafíya?" "Hindí pò`," ang sagòt ni Hwàn,--at katunáya y uwalà ng mwàng si Hwàn, sapagkàt sya y lumakì sa hírap at sa gayò y panày na pagtatrabáho lámang ang pinagdàdaanan nyà ng búhay. Ang Kastílà ay nàpagúlat sa sagòt ni Hwàn at sinábe niya ng agàd: "Dináramdam ko, kaybígan, ang hindí mu pagkáalam nang hewgrafíya, sapagkàt dáhil díto y pára ng nawalà` ang kalahátì nang iyo ng búhay." Si Hwàn ay hindí kumibò` at patúluy dìn ang pagsagwàn. Hindí nalaúnan at tumanùng namàn ang Kastíla`: "Nagáral ka bà nang aritmétika?" "Hindí pò`," ang sagòt ni Hwàn. "Kung gayòn, kaybígan, ay pára ng nawalá sa iyò ang ikápat na baháge nang iyo ng búhay." Si Hwàn ay natákot nang kauntì`, sapagkàt hindí nya màpagkúro ang íbig sabíhin nang Kastíla`. Sinábi nya sa kanya ng saríli: "Kàwáwà ka, Hwàn, walá nà ng nàtìtirà nang iyu ng búhay, kung hindí isa ng ikápat na partè lámang." Nang ang bangká nila ay násàsa malálim na lugàr na nang ílog, at hábang ang Kastílà namàn ay pinagkùkúro ang malakì ng kamangmangàn nang manga táo ng trabahadùr sa Filipínas, si Hwàn ay tumanùng nang ganitò sa kanya ng sakày: "Marúnong pú ba kayo ng lumangòy?" "Hindì`!" ang sagut agàd nang Kastíla`. "Kung gayòn," ang sagot ni Hwàn, "ay hindí lámang pára kayù ng nawalàn nang boò ng inyo ng búhay, dátapwat nawalá na ngà ng túnay." At sinabayàn nya itù nang pagtataòb nang bangkà ng sinàsakyan nilà. Si Hwàn ay lumangùy sa pasígan at ang Kastílà namàn ay tinangày nang ágos. 24. ANG KABÀÍTAN SA MANGA HÁYOP. Isà ng gabì ng madilìm ay naglálakad si Hwàn sa manga kaparánga ng malaláyo` sa manga báyan. Sya y patúngo sa kanya ng báyan. Bágu sya makaratìng díto ay kinàkayilánga ng magdaàn sya sa manga ilàng na lugàr. Isa ng gabì na sya y naglálakad sa ganitò ng lugàr biglá sya ng nàpagúlat sa pagdatìng nang isa ng púsa ng itìm na humúni at kinámot ang kanya ng paà. Ang ginawá nya y úbus-lakàs nya ng sinípa ang púsa`, at itò y nàpahitsà nang maláyo`. Ipinatúluy nya ang paglalakàd, dátapuwat hindí nalaúnan at nagbalìk na namàn sa kanyà ang púsa`. Lálu ng lumakì ang kanya ng gálit at sinípà nya ng mulì` ang púsa`. Inakálà nya ng ang púsa ng iyòn ay isà ng laruwàn nang tyának o asuwàng. Ipinatúluy nya ang paglákad. Hindí naluwatàn at ang púsa ng itèm ay nagbalìk na mulí sa kanyà. Ngayòn, sa lugàr nang sipáin nya ang púsa`, itò y hinawákan nyà at dinala nyà sa kanya ng bisìg, kanya ng hinagòd, at pinagtátapìk, at sinábi nya sa púsa`: "Mabaìt na púsà`, anò ang gusto mò? Sàsáma ka ba sa áki ng paglalakàd?" at ipinatúluy nyà ang kanyà ng paglákad. Hindí nalaúnan at sya y sinumpòng nang antòk. Sa daàn ay máy nàkíta sya ng isa ng báhay, dátapuwat ang manga táo sa báyan ay may paniwála ng ingkantádo ang báhay na iyòn. Dátapuwat walà ng iba ng màtulúgan si Hwàn, kaniyà` ang ginawá nya y pumanhik syà sa báhay úpang doòn matúlog. Sya y náhimbìng, dátapuwat nang naghàháti-ng-gabi nà ay nágising sya sa kàluskúsan nang manga dagà`. Ang ginawá nya y pinagsisipá nya at pinagdadagukàn ang manga dagà` úpang kanya ng patayìn o kayà y palayásin. Dátapuwat ang manga dagà` ay dumámi nang dumámi hanggàng sa napunò` ang kuwàrto at sya y kanilà ng pinagkakagàt. Ang ginawá ni Hwàn ay kinúha nya ang kanya ng púsa ng itìm at sinábi nya ríto ng patain nyà ang manga dagà`. Ang púsà` ay ngumiyàw at inumpisahàn ang paghábol sa manga dagà`. Malakì ang nagìng tákot nang manga dagà`, at ang manga hindí nápatay nang púsa ay nagsipagtakbò sa kaní-kanilà ng lunggà`. Nang màkíta ni Hwàn na walá na ng nàtìtirà sa manga dagà kung hindí dádalawa lámang, ay pinapaghintú nya ang púsa`. Kanya ng hinúli ang dalawa ng dagà` at kanya ng inámo` at inakálà nya ng isáma rìn silà na gáya nang púsà sa kanya ng paglalakàd. Kinàbukásan ay ipinatúluy nya ang kanya ng paglalakàd. Inabútan sya nang gabè sa isa ng lugàr na wala ng báhay, kanyá ang ginawá nya y ipinatúluy nya ang paglalakàd papuntà sa isa ng báhay na árì nang isa ng matandà`. Nagkátaon namàn na ang matanda ng itò y isà ng engkantadòr. Pinatúluy nya si Hwàn at pinatúlog nya sa isa ng silìd. Si Hwàn ay natúlog nang walà ng paghihinálà nang anu màn. Dátapuwat, nang mágising syà kinàbukásan, ay nàpagúlat sya at natákot nang màkíta nya ng sya y nàkùkulòng sa isa ng kahòn na walà ng bùkásan. Pinagsipá nya ang manga dingdìng nang kahòn, dátapuwat walá sya ng magawà`, itò y hindí nya mabuksàn. Malakì ang kanya ng pagdadalamháte` at walá sya ng màláma ng gawìn, nang màalaála nya ng sya y may kasáma ng isà ng púsa at dalawà ng dagá sa kanya ng kùlúngan. Kinúha nya ang dalawa ng dagà`, inamù-amú nya, at sinábi nya ng bumútas silà sa kahò ng kanila ng kinàkùkulungàn. Ang manga dagà ay nagumpisà nang pagkagàt sa tablà at untì-untí sila ng nakagawá nang húkay sa makapàl na tablà, hanggàng sa itò y nabútas. Nang makabútas na silà ay bumalìk silà ng mulí kay Hwàn at si Hwàn namàn ay pinabútas silà ng mulì` sa dindìng nang kùlúngan. Sa paguúlit-úlit nang kanila ng paggawá nang manga bútas, sa kalaúnan ay nakagawá silà nang isà ng malaki ng bútas, at si Hwàn ay nakawalà`. Ang matandà ay hinánap ni Hwàn, dátapuwat itò y hindí nya màkíta káhit saàn. Kanyà ipinatúluy nyà ang pagwè`, at doòn nang dumatìng sya ay ipinamalítà nya ang malakì ng serbísyo na ginawá sa kanyà nang kanya ng tatlò ng kaybíga ng isà ng púsa` at dalawa ng dagà`. 25. SI HWÀ NG MANGDUDÚKIT. Nàbása ku sa isa ng nobéla ng Kastíla` na ang pamagàt ay "La tùmba de yèrro" ang sumúsunòd. Si Hwàn ay isa ng báta ng lilimáhi ng taòn, anàk nang isà ng kasamà nang mayáma ng si Andrès. Si Hwàn mulá pa sa pagkabátà` ay pípe, dátapuwat hindì` bingè. Gayon dìn ang pagkapípe nya ay hindí malubhà`, sapagkàt kadalasàn sya y nakasísigàw, dátapuwat hindí ngà` lámang gáya nang tinìg nang karanyúwa ng báta` ang sa kanyà. Isa ng gabì si Andrès ay dumálaw sa báhay nang kanyà ng kasamà na ama ni Hwàn, at sa kanya ng pagdálaw na ytò y isináma nya ang kanya ng anàk na babáye, lilimáhin dì ng taòn ang gúlang. Káhit na pípe si Hwàn ay nakipagkayibígan sya sa anàk nang kanya ng panginoòn, at silà ng dalawà y nagsipaglarò` hábang ang kanilà ng manga amà ay nagsàsàlitáan nang tungkòl sa pananìm. Ipinakíta nya kay Maryà (na sya ng pangálan nang kanya ng kalarò`) ang manga larwan nyà na gawá nang kanya ng saríli ng kamày at talíno. Ang kanya ng manga laruwàn ay sarì-sári ng mukhá nang táo na ginawá nya at nayàyárì nang pútik. Marámi rin díto ang manga buò ng táo na may sarì-sári ng anyò`. Ang ibà y nagtátanìm, ang ibà y nagsásayàw, ang ibà y nakahigà`, at gayon dìn may manga nagbúbunò`, nagtàtakbúhan, at iba t iba pà ng anyò`. Gayon dìn máy manga háyop syà; ang ibà y nayàyárì nang pútek at ang ibà y nayàyári nang káhoy. Tumálik ang pagkakaybígan nang dalawa ng báta` at nàwíli sila sa paglalarò`. Nang makatápus nà ang kanila ng amà sa pagsasàlitáan ay tináwag ni Andrès si Maryà úpang umwí na silà, dátapuwat niyáyà múna ni Maryà ang kanya ng amà sa lugàr na kinàlàlagyàn nang manga larwàn ni Hwàn, at úpang itò y màkíta nyà. Nang màmasdan ny Andrès ang manga larwa ng yòn ay nàpagúlat sya sa lakì nang talíno na ipinakìkilála nang dumúkit sa manga tao-taóha ng iyòn. Sinábi ny Andrès sa ama ni Hwàn na itò y matalíno at dápat ipadalà sa pàaralàn. Dátapwat isinagòt nang ama ni Hwàn na syà y wala ng kwàrta úpang ipapagáral kay Hwàn. "Kung gayòn," sinábi ni Andrès, "ay akò ang ùúpa sa mayèstro. Búkas ay páparoon sa ámi ng báhay ang gurò ni Maryà. Sya y papagtùtuluyìn ku díto sa iyò, úpang umpisahàn nya ang pagtutúro` at pagbubukàs nang ísip ni Hwàn." Napasalámat nang marámi ng marámi ang ama ni Hwàn at silà y naghiwalày. Malakì ang ikinalungkòt ni Hwàn nang umalis nà ang kanyà ng kalarò`. Mulá sa áraw na itò kadalasàn si Hwàn ay ipinasúsundò nang ama ni Maryà úpang doòn siyà sa kanya ng báhay makipaglarò` kay Maryà. Isa ng hápon na silà ng dalawà y naglálaro sa hàlamanan nang maláwak na bakúran ni Andrès ay nagdaà ng lumílipàd sa tabì nang dalawa ng báta` ang isa ng paruparò. Itò y kanila ng hinábol. Nàùunà si Maryà at sumúsunòd si Hwàn. Sa pagtatakbò nilà ay nahúlog si Maryà sa isa ng sápa ng mabábaw na pàbyáyan nang manga isdà` niy Andrès. Si Hwàn ay nàpasigàw nang malakàs at pagsigàw nya ng itò y napatiràn sya nang lamàn sa lalamúnan at nagdudugò` ang kanya ng bibìg. Hindí nya itò inalintána at tumalòn din sya sa sápa` úpang iligtàs si Maryà sa pagkalúnod. Sa kababáwan nang sápa` ay hindí nangalúnod ang dalawà ng báta`, dátapuwat siniglàn lámang si Maryà nang malaki ng tákot na sya nyà ng ipinaghimatày nang násàsa túbig na syà. Kanyà` ang ginawá ni Hwàn ay hinawákan nya si Maryà sa likòd at itinaas nyà úpang hwàg makáinom nang túbig, hábang syà ay nàsìsísid sa túbig. Ganitò ang anyú nila nang màdatnan silà nang isa ng alíla ny Andrès at silà y hinángo sa sápà`. Malakì ang pagkàgúlat niy Andrès at malakì ang naging twà` nang ama ni Hwàn nang si Hwàn ay márinig nila ng magsalità` at ibalítà sa kanilà ang nangyári. Dáhil sa pagsasalitá ni Hwàn ay lálu ng lumakàs ang kanya ng pagsúlong sa pagaáral, at gayon dìn lálu ng tumálik ang pagkakaybígan nila ni Maryà. Dumatìng ang áraw na sinábi nang gurú nya na sya y dápat lumípat nang báyan úpang ipatúluy ang pagaáral, sapagkàt sya y walá na ng màitúro sa kanyà. Itò y sinábi rin nyà kay Andrès. Ang ginawá ny Andrès ay ipinadalà si Hwàn sa isa ng eskwèlhan nang pangdudúkit, at díto sya nagáral na may ánim na taòn. Si Hwàn at si Maryà ay nagsilakì at ang kanila ng pagkakaybígan ay nagìng pagiìbígan. Twì ng bakasyòn ay umuwè` si Hwàn sa kanilà ng báhay sa búkid ni Andrès at doòn sya nagpàpalípas nang áraw sa píling ni Mariyà. Dumatìng ang isa ng áraw nang pagtatanyágan nang manga dinúkit nang manga artísta, at dáhil díto y pinagarálan ni Hwàn ang isa ng áyos na kanya ng dápat dukítin parà sa áraw na itò. Ang manálo sa manga kasále ay bìbigyàn nang isa ng ganti ng pálà na may malaki ng kasáma ng kwàlta, bukòd sa pagdiríwang sa karàngálan nang mànanalò. May isà ng taò ng nagtrabáho si Hwàn sa kanya ng kumpusisyòn. Dumatìng ang áraw nang pagtatanyàg nang manga dinúkit. Si Hwàn, ang kanya ng amà, si Andrès, at si Maryà ay naparoòn sa báhay na kinàdòroonàn nang manga dinúkit. Lubhà ng marámi ang manga táo, dátapuwat ang pinagkàkalipumpunàn nilà ay ang dinúkit ni Hwàn. Si Maryà ay nápaiyàk sa twà` sa gandà nang dinúkit ni Hwàn. Si Andrès namàn ay walà ng màláma ng sabíhin sa pagpúri. Dumatìng ang óras nang pagpapaháyag nang manga hukòm kung síno ang nanálo, at ang dinúkit ni Hwàn ay sya ng binanggìt na nakakúha nang gantì ng pála`. Itò y isa ng grúpo ng máy-roo ng isa ng babáye ng nakatindìg. Ang kaliwà ng kamày ay may háwak na isa ng sulò` at ang kánan namàn ay isa ng koróna ng dáhon. Sa banda ng kánan nang babáe at sa ilálim nang koróna ng olíva ay may isà ng bináta ng nàlùluhod ang kána ng paà. Sa kanya ng kaliwà` ay may háwak sya ng librò at sa kánan ay isa ng pamukpòk. Sa kanilà ng paánan ay nàsàsábug ang iba t iba ng kasangkápan nang isa ng nagàáral. Nang silà y umuwè` ipinagtapàt nang dalawa ng nagkàkàibígan sa kanila ng manga magúlang ang kanila ng líhim. Ang ama ni Hwàn ay nalungkòt lámang, sapagkàt nàlàláman nya na ang pagkakasàl sa kanila ng dalawà ay hindí maàári`, sapagkàt ang kanila ng lagày ay gáya nang sa isa ng busábos o alípin at isa ng panginoòn o háre`. Pagkáalam ni Andrès sa bágay na itò ay siniglàn sya nang malaki ng gálit. Ipinatáwag nya si Hwàn at kanya ng minúra. Sinábi nya ng sya y walà ng hyà` at hindí marúnong tumanàw nang útang na loòb, hindí marúnong kumilála sa nagparúnong sa kanyà, at sinábi nya ng hindí sya maàári ng màpakasàl kay Mariyà. Dáhil díto y sya y umalìs agad-agàd na walà ng nakààalàm káhit síno nang kanya ng patùtungúhan. Nagdaàn ang limà o ánim na taòn at si Hwàn sa kanya ng pangdudúkit ay káylan ma y hindí nalìlimútan si Maryà. Si Mariyà namàn ay nagpalípas nang ánim na tao ng itò sa kanya ng báhay. Nàlùlugmok syà hábang panahòn sa isa ng malálim na kalungkútan at tuwí na y si Hwàn ang kanya ng nààalaála. Si Maryà y nagkasakìt nang malubhà` at malápit na ng mamámatày. Ipináyu nang manggagámot nya kay Andrès na, kung íbig nya ng máligtas ang kanya ng anàk, ay sundìn nya ang gusto nitò tungkòl sa pagaasáwa kay Hwàn. Dátapuwat nang pumáyag siy Andrès ay lubhà ng huli nà. Palalá nang palalà` ang sakìt ni Maryà, at si Hwàn namàn ay hindí nya nàlàláman kung saàn ang kinàdòroonàn. Marámi sya ng inutúsan sa malalaki ng báyan úpang hanápin si Hwàn, dátapuwat nakaraan nà ang marámi ng áraw ay walá pa ng nagkapálad káhit isà sa kanilà na makátagpò` kay Hwàn. Sa kalaúnan ang isa sa kanilà y nàtagpuan itò sa báya-ng-Kamálig sa kanya ng gàwáan. Nang màbalitáan nya na ipinasúsundo syà ni Andrès úpang ipakasàl sila ng dalawà ni Maryà, ay lubhà ng malakì ang kanyà ng naging twà`. Dátapuwat gayon dìn malakì ang kanya ng tákot na baká hindí nya abúta ng buhày ang kanya ng inìíbig. Sya y matúli ng matúli ng umwè` at nang dumatìng sya sa báhay niy Andrès ay nàkíta nya doòn ang butò t balàt na pangangatawàn ni Maryà nàlàlátag sa kanya ng hihigàn. Nang sandalí ri ng iyòn ay nagpasundú si Andrès nang isa ng páre`, at si Hwàn at si Maryà y ipinakasàl. Hábang ang pagkakasàl ay idinàdaos nang páre` ang hiningà namàn ni Maryà ay pumàpánaw. Nang mákasal na silà ay nagkaroòn lámang si Hwàn nang panahò ng mahagkàn ang kanya ng asáwa, at itò y pinanáwan nang hiningà na ang mukhá y masayà at nàngìngitì ang bibìg. 26. SI MARKÍTA. Si Markíta ay isà ng dalága ng mabaìt at magandà, dátapuwat mahírap. Sya y máy-roo ng isa ng nóbyo na mahírap dìn, dátapuwat may empléyo sa gobyèrno sa Mayníla` at máy-roo ng mabúti ng swèldo. Si Markíta ay máy-roo ng isa ng kápit-báhay na mayáman. Ang báhay ay tablà, at yéro ang bubungàn, malápad ang kanya ng bukirìn. Ang kápit-báhay na ytò y malakì ang pagkágusto kay Markíta, dátapuwat hindí nátin màsàsábe kung túnay ang kanya ng pagíbig, sapagkàt maluwàg ang kanya ng tornílyo. Lahàt nang pagsúyo` ay ginawá nya kay Markíta, dátapuwat si Markíta y isa ng dalága ng hindí sa-lawáhan ang loòb, at ang lahàt nang kanya ng pagsúyo` ay hindí pinansìn. Sa kalakhàn nang pagíbig nang manglilígaw na si Markíta ay mápasa kanyà, ang ginawá nya y gumámit nang lakàs. Isa ng hápon pumások sa bakúran nila Markíta at nagkubli syà sa isa ng púno-ng-ságing. Nang hápu ng yoòn ay nagkátaon namà ng ang bakúran nilà Markíta ay marumì. Kanyà itò y nanáog at niwalisàn ang bakúran. Pagkátabi nyà sa púno-ng-ságing na pinagkùkublihàn nang laláke, itò y lumápit pagdáka, tinangnàn sya sa kamày at kanyà sya hinagkàn. Nàlàláman na ninyò na sa manga mahihinhì ng táo doòn sa átin ang isa ng halìk ay isa ng malakì ng kasiraàn nang púri. Dáhil díto nang si Markíta ay pumanhìk sa báhay na umíiyàk, at nang màláman nang kanya ng manga magúlang na syà y tinampalásan o hinagkàn nang laláki ng iyòn, inakálà nila na walà ng iba ng pangtakìp sa kasiraà-ng-púri ng itò kung hindí ang ipakasàl nilà sa laláki ng iyòn ang kanilà ng anàk na si Markíta. Káhit anò ng pagayàw ang ginawá ni Markíta at káhit na nàlàláman nilà na itò y may kaìbígan, ay kanila rì ng ipinatúloy ang pagkakasàl. Si Markíta ay isa ng báta ng lubhà ng masùnúrin sa kanya ng manga magúlang, kanyá hindí sya makasuwày nang tòtohánan ngayòn. Ang ginawá na lámang niyà ay isinúlat nya sa kanya ng nóvyo ang manga nangyári at mangyàyári at sinábi nya ng ang magíging pagkakasàl sa kanyà ay isa lámang pagsunòd sa manga magúlang at siya rìn ay kanya ng inìíbig. Sa manga magúlang namàn ni Markíta ay kanya ng sinábi na sya ay hindí nila pakìkinabángan, sapagkàt ang pagkakasàl nya sa táu ng kanya ng kinabùbuwisítan ay kanyà ng ikamámatay na madalì`. Ikinasàl silà. Hindí nalaúnan at inapuyàn si Markíta nang lagnàt. Mulá sa áraw nang kanya ng pagkakasàl ay hindí sya makakáin nang káhit anò, at áraw-gabì sya y lumùlúha`. Ang manga magagalìng na médiko sa báyan, ang lahàt nang yáman nang kanya ng asáwa, at ang lahàt nang manga panalángin nang kanya ng manga magúlang ay hindí makapagligtàs sa kanyà sa kamàtáyan. Pagkaraàn nang pitù ng áraw nang kanya ng pagkákasàl ay sya y namatày. Itò y nagìng malakì ng kalungkútan nang kanya ng nagìng nóbyo at isa ng nakatúlong sa nagìng kasawià-ng-pálad nitò sa kanya ng búhay na dumatìng. 27. ANG MANGMÀNG NA PÁRE`. Sa báya-ng-Balíwag ay máy nàdistíno ng isa ng pári ng wala ng muwàng káhit anu màn. Hinìhinála` nang manga táo na syà y isa ng sakatéro lámang sa Espánya na nápadpad doòn at idinistíno sa kanilà ng báyan úpang magkaroòn nang swèldo at sa gayò y máligtas sa pagkamatày nang gútom. Linggo-linggò syà y nagmìmísa, dátapwat ang manga nakíkinig nang mísa ay wala ng márinig sa kanyà kung hindì` ang salità ng "Mísa, mísa, mísa," at iba pà. Papasí-pasyal sa harapàn nang altàr; kung mínsan ay humáharap sa manga táo, pinagdódoop ang kamày, at sa lahàt nang pagkílos nya ng itò y wala ng patìd nya ng sinàsábi ang "Mísa, mísa, mísa," at iba pà. Ang manga táo y nagálit at ipinagsumbòng sya sa arsubìspo. Ang sagòt nang arsubìspo ay páparoon sya ng isà ng linggò at makíkinig nang mísa, úpang màkíta kung túnay ngà` ang sumbong nilà. Dumatìng doòn ang arsubìspo. Sa kanyà y sinábi nang pári` na sya y hindí makapagmísa, sapagkàt ang manga ulòl na táo ay nagààlísan sa simbáhan paguumpisà nya nang mísa. "Búkas," sinábi pa nyà, "ay màmàmasdàn ninyò ang kanila ng pagtatakbúhan sa pagbebendisyòn ko pa lámang." Kinàbukásan ay linggò at sa pagmimísa nya ay háharap ang arsubìspo. Umísip sya nang paraàn nang pagliligtàs sa kanya ng saríle. Kanyà`, bágu sya nagumpisà nang pagmimísa ay nagpakuló sya nang langìs. Hábang sya y nagbìbíhis ang manga táo namàn at ang arsubìspo ay nàùupú na sa simbáhan. Ang arsubìspo ay malápit sa altàr at hábang sya y nagbìbíhis ang langìs namàn ay kasalukúya ng kumúkulò`. Nang makapagbíhis na syà ay ibinúhus nya sa lalagyàn nang túbig na bendíta ang kumúkulu ng langìs. Ang ugálì nya ay magbendisyòn múna bágu magmísa, kanyà` pagpások nya sa simbáhan ay sya nyà ng iniwisìk sa manga táo ang kumúkulu ng langìs sa lugàr nang àgwa-bendíta. Ang manga táo ng dinapúan nang maiínit na patàk nang langìs ay nagsipagtindìg at úbus-làkása ng nagsipagtakbúhan papalabàs sa simbáhan. Nang màkíta itò nang arsubìspo ay hindí nya ipinatulòy ang pagmimísa sa áraw na iyòn, sapagkàt wala ng nátira sa simbáhan ní isa màn sa manga táo. Sinábi nang arsubìspo sa párì` na sya y hindí mààalìs sa báya ng iyòn at hindí na nyà pàpansinìn ang anu mà ng ipagsumbòng nang manga táo. 28. ANG PÀKUMPISÁLAN. Si Párì Mundò ay sya ng nàdistínu ng ilà ng taòn sa báya-ng-Marikína. Sya y isa ng táo ng maibigìn sa pagliliwalìw. Sa pagtupàd sa kanya ng manga tungkúlin sya y hindí nagkùkúlang káylan màn. Araw-áraw sya y nagmìmísa at kung linggò ay makálawa sya ng magmísa. Gayon dìn sya y nagbíbinyàg nang manga báta`, nagbèbendisyòn nang patày, nagháhatid nang biyátiko, nagpàpakumpisàl, at nagpakinábang. Ang lahàt nang kanyà ng tungkúlin ay sinúsunod nyà ng mabúte, dátapuwat ang pagpapakumpisàl ay nilalúan nya nang kauntì`. Sa ganà ng kanyà sigúro ng itò y mabúte úpang pauntiìn ang manga kasalánan nang kanya ng kinúkumpisàl, dátapuwat sa ibà sa kanya ng manga kinúkumpisal itò y may nagìng masamà ng dúlo. Mínsan máy-ro ng isà ng babái ng dalága na mapagsimbà at mapagkumpisàl. Nang dumatìng ang dalága ng itò sa dalawa ng pù ng taòn ang gúlang ay iníwan na nyà ang kabànála ng pagkukumpisàl, gayon dìn bihíra ng magsimbà. Nang mínsan usisáin ang babáye ng itò ay nagsábi nang ganitò: "Noo ng úna ang boò ng akálà ko si Párì Mundò ay isa ng sànto, dátapwat ngayò y nàpagkìkilála nang marámi na sya y isa ng buwísit na táo. Kung bahà` at ang manga táo y nagsìsipamangkà` sa bahà`, sya y sa bangkà` nang manga babáe nakíkisakày at hindí sa manga laláki. Kung umága pagkamísa nya ay màkìkíta na sya ng nakatalungkò sa kanya ng pátyo na ang ábito y nagùgúmun sa lúpa` at sya y humàhágod nang manòk kaharàp nang ibà ng sabungéro. "Noo ng úna akò y madalàs magkumpisàl sa kanyà, dátapwat dumatìng ang isa ng áraw na panày na kaululàn lámang ang ipagtatanòng nya sa ákin sa kumpìsálan. Súkat ba ng itinanòng nya sa ákin kung ilàn ang manlilígaw sa ákin, kung síno ang áki ng inìíbig, at kung saàn akò makìkipagtagpò`? Sa loob-loòb ku lámang ay nàpakawala-ng-hyà` ang pári ng itò. Kanyà` iníwan ku sya agàd sa kumpìsálan at mulá noon ay hindí na akò nangumpisàl." 29. SI HWÀ NG BÍBAS. Si Hwàn ay isa táo ng mapaggawá nang kaululàn, dátapuwat itò y hindí nya sinásadyà` úpang magpagálit nang kápwa táo, kung hindí yon ay talagà ng sya nyà ng ugáli` na átas sa kanya nang kanya ng pagiísip. Mínsan sya y naparòn sa fiyèsta nang isa ng báyan. May pasàn sya ng tatlò ng biìk, úpang ipagbilè sa báyan. Nang sya y dumating nà, nàkíta nya sa pátyo nang simbáhan ang marámi ng táo ng nalìlípon at nakíkinìg nang biníbigkas na talumpáti` nang kápitan sa báyan. Masikìp ang pagkakátayo nang manga táo, dátapwat sya y nálapit dìn sa paanàn nang entabládo na kinàtàtayuàn nang nagtàtalumpáti`. Hábang nakìkipagsiksíkan syà, ang tatlò ng biìk ay wala ng lubày nang pagyàk. Nang syà y makarating nà sa harapàn nang kápitan, tinúkup nya ang manga bibìg, úpang silà y patahanìn, dátapwat walá sya ng magawà`. Náino nang kápitan ang manga ìyákan nang biìk at tiningnan nyà kung síno ang máy dala doòn nang manga biìk. Nang màkíta nya si Hwàn ay sinábi nya ang ganítò: "Huwán! Anò ang gustu mò ng sabíhin sa pagpapaiyàk mo díto nang iyo ng manga biìk? Lumáyas ka ngayon dìn, at hwag kà ng makàtuntong-tuntòng káylan màn sa lúpa-ng-Bùstos!" Si Hwàn ay umalìs at umwè` sa kanya ng báyan sa San-Ildepònso. Nakaraàn ang isa ng taòn at dumatìng na mulì` ang fyèsta sa báyan nang Bùstos. Iníbig ni Hwàn na pumaroòn, dátapuwat nàalaála nya na tinangáan sya nang kápitan sa báya ng iyòn na, pag sya y nàkíta ng mulì` sa lúpa-ng-Bùstos, ay sya y ipabíbilanggò` at pahìhirápan. Umísip si Hwàn nang paraàn úpang makaparòn. Nang dumatìng ang fiyèsta ay máy-roo ng isà ng mísa ng malakì na dinaluhàn nang líbo-líbo ng táo. Si Hwàn ay isà sa manga táo ng itò at syà ang nàpàpansìn nang marámi ng táo, dahilàn sa anyò nang pagkálagay nyà doòn sa loòb nang simbáhan. Dí nalaúnan at isà sa manga táo ng nagmámasid sa kanyà ay nagsumbùng sa kápitan at sinábi na si Hwàn ay násàsa loòb nang simbáhan at nakasakày sa isa ng karéta na hinìhíla nang kalabàw, at ang lahàt, karéta, kalabàw, at si Hwàn ay násàsa loòb nang simbáhan. Si Hwàn ay hindí nanànáog sa karéta ng kanya ng tinùtuntungàn. Pumarùn ang kápitan sa simbáhan úpang hulíhin si Hwàn. Nang málapit syà díto ay sinábi nyà: "Huwán! Sumunòd ka sa ákin at ibíbilanggú kità. Hindí ba sinábi ko nà sa iyò t hwàg kà ng tútuntong nang lúpa-ng-Bùstos?" Isinagòt namàn ni Hwàn: "Ginoò ng Kápitan! Sinábi ngà` po ninyò sa ákin iyàn. Kanyà` akò y hindí makaalìs sa áki ng karéta. Nàkìkíta pú ba ninyò itò ng lúpa ng lúlan nang áki ng karéta at sya kò ng tinùtuntungàn? Ito pò` ay hindè lúpa-ng-Bùstos kung hindí lúpa-ng-San-Ildepònso. Doòn ko pò` sa áki ng báyan kinúha ang lúpa ng itò." Pagkàsábi ni Hwàn nitò ay hindí nàpigílan nang kápitan ang pagtáwa, at sinábi na lámang nya sa kanya ng saríli na syà y wala ng magágawa kay Hwàn, sapagkàt itò y nása katwíran. 30. TATLÒ NG MAGKAKAYBÍGA NG MAGNANÁKAW. Si Hwàn, si Andrès, at si Dyégo ay tatlò ng magagalìng na magnanákaw. Silà y balíta ng balíta`, at marámi ng táo ang nagsìsihúle sa kanilà, dátapuwat sa galìng nilà nang pangingílag at pagnanákaw ay hindí sila màhúle. Ang tatlò ng itù y nagtìpána ng mínsan na magtatagpò` sila sa isa ng lugàr na tahímik at líhim úpang pagusápan nilà ang kanilà ng pamumúhay at manga mabubúti ng bágo ng paraàn nang pagnanákaw. Silà ng tatlò ay nabùbúhay sa pagnanákaw lámang. Ní isa màn sa kanilà ay walà ng paghahánap na mabúte. Mulá pa sa pagkabátà` ay ganito nà ang kanila ng pamumúhay, kanyà` silà y nagìng matalíno at lubhà ng makínis sa gawa ng itò. Nang dumatìng ang áraw nang kanilà ng tìpánan, madali ng áraw pa lámang ay nàròroòn na silà. Malakì ng pamamalíta` nang báwat isà at hindí magkàmáyaw ang kanila ng pagbabàlitaàn. Itinanòng ni Hwàn kay Dyégo: "Gánu ka na bà kakínis ngayòn sa áti ng trabáho?" "Sa damdam kò," ang sagòt ni Dyégo, "ay akò ang pinakamakínis sa áti ng tatlò, sapagkàt akò y nakapagnànákaw nang manga itlòg na hinàhalimhimàn nang manòk na hindí nàlàláman nitò. At hindí itu lámang," idinugtung nyà, "ang manga háyop màn na mababagsìk ay nànànakáwan ku nang kanila ng inakày nang walá sila ng málay." "Ganyàn ba lámang ang kínis mo?" isinabàd pagdáka ni Andrès, "Akò ay nakapagnànákaw sa háyop at gayon dìn sa táo. Ang manga aláhas nang táo na íbig ko ng nakáwin ay ninànákaw ko, káhit na natùtúlog o naglálakad ang may áre`. Mínsan ay ninákaw ko ang isa ng singsìng na hinìhigàn nang may ári` úpang hwag mànákaw, dátapwat itò y nànákaw ko nang walá sya ng málay." "Ganyàn ba lámang ang kínis ninyò?" itinanùng ni Hwàn, "Walá sa kalahátì nang kínis ko sa pagnanákaw ang inyù ng manga nagágawà`. Akò y nakapagnànákaw nang táo mìsmo at hindí nang kanila lámang na manga pagaáre`." Nàpagúlat ang dalawà nya ng kaúsap, sapagkàt hindí nila inakála ng ang isa ng táo ng buhày ay maàári ng mànákaw nang hindí nito nàlàláman, at úpang subúkan nilà ang galìng ni Hwàn ay nakipagpustáhan silà ng dalawà kay Hwàn. Sinábi nilà ng nakáwin nya ang párì` sa báyan at ihatid nyà sa lugàr na kanila ng kinàdòroonàn ngayòn. Kung itù y magawá nya, bàbayáran sya ni Andrès at ni Dyégo nang limà ng daà ng píso. Dátapuwat kung hindí nya magawà`, bàbayáran nya si Andrès at si Dyégo nang isa ng daà ng píso. Umáyon si Hwàn sa pustáha ng itò at silà y naghiwá-hiwalày. Si Hwàn ay napatúngu sa báyan at pinakibalitáan nya kung saàn nàtìtirà ang párè`. Nang màláman nya itò ay nagisìp sya nang paraà ng gágawin nyà na pagnákaw sa párè`. Sya y pumásuk na alíla` sa pári ng itò. Sa kanya ng pagkàpaalíla ng itò ay nàkilála nya ang manga ugáli nang páre`. Isà sa kanya ng ugáli` na hindí nabàbáli` káylan màn ay ang pagdadasàl nang rosáriyo sa harapàn nang isa ng poòn. Ang poò ng itò ay nayàyárì nang káhoy, at itò y si Sang-Hwàn. Ang lakì nang poò ng itò ay kasingpantày nang isa ng táo. Ang ginawá ni Hwàn ay nagpagawá sya sa isa ng mandurúkit nang isa ng poò ng gáya rin nitò, dátapuwat hukày at wala ng lamàn ang loòb. Ang bútas na itò sa loòb nang katawàn nang poò ng itò ay maàári ng sootàn nang isa ng táo. Nang mayárì na ang poò ng pagawá ni Hwàn, ay pinalitan nyà ang poò ng si Sang-Hwàn na túnay naárì nang párè`. Isa ng hápun bágu dumatìng ang orasyòn ay kumúha sya nang isa ng sáko nang bigàs at napaloòb sya sa loòb nang sànto ng ipinagawá nya. Pagkahápon nang párì` itò y pumaroòn sa kwàrto ng kanya ng pinagdàdasalàn úpang magrosáryo. Nang magkákalahatí na ang kanya ng pagdadasàl at kátaon namà ng nangàngáwit na si Hwàn sa pagkátayò`, ay nagsalità ito: "Ihintú mu nà, Párì Lúkas, ang iyo ng pagdadasàl. Ako y pinàparíto sa iyò úpang ihatìd kità sa lángit." Nang úna ay siniglàn nang tákot ang páre`, dátapuwat inakálà nya ng ang kanya ng poòn ay nagmìmilágro at totoo ngà ng sinúsundú sya úpang ihatìd sa kalangitàn. Sa kanyà ng hindí pagkibò` ay nagsalità ng mulí si Hwàn nang ganitò: "Marámi nà ang kabànála ng iyù ng ginawà`. Matagàl ka nang namùmúhay nang mabába`, at dáhil díto y nàtàtaàn sa iyò ang lahàt nang kaginhawáhan sa lángit. Sumáma ka sa ákin at iháhatid kità." Isinagòt nang páre`: "Papáno ang gàgawin kò ng pagsáma sa iyò? Akù y matandá na at hindí ako makalàlákad mulà díto sa lúpa` hanggàng sa lángit." Isinagòt namàn ni Hwàn: "Yòn ay hwag mù ng alalahánin. Máy-ron ako ng isa ng sáko. Sumilìd ka díto at pàpasanin kità sa pagpuntà sa lángit." At pagkàsábi nya nitò y iniladlad nyà ang sáko nang bigàs. Pagkásilid nang páre` ay tinalía ng mahigpìt ni Hwàn ang sáko. Lumabàs sya sa loòb nang poòn at pinasan nyà si Párì Lúkas patúngo sa báhay na kanya ng pinagtipanàn sa dalawa ng kaybígan. Tiwalà ng tiwalá si Párì Lúkas na sya y papuntà sa lángit, kanyà` walá sya ng kibò` sa loòb nang sáko. Dátapwat, nang nagbàbátis na si Hwàn sa isa ng mabábaw na ílog, ay inakálà nya ng sya y nàlòlóko lámang at hindí sa lángit ang punta nilà. Kanyà itinanùng nya kay Hwàn: "Anu ng ílog itò, at bákit táyo dápat tumawìd nang ílog sa pagpuntà sa lángit?" Isinagòt ni Hwàn: "Sssst! Hwag kà ng maíngay! Itò y ílog nang Hòrdan." Ang párì ay nagtahàn nang pagsasalità`. Ipinatúloy ni Hwàn ang paglákad. Nang sya y pumápanhik nà sa báhay na kanila ng tagpúan, nàpagúlat na mulì` ang páre`, at tumanùng sya ng mulì`: "Anu ng hagdánan itò? Ganito bà ang hitsúra nang hagdána ng papuntà sa lángit?" "Sinábi ko nà sa iyò at hwag kà ng maíngay", ang isinagòt ni Hwàn, "Ito ngà` ang hagdána ng paakyàt sa lángit." Nang mápanhik nà silà sa báhay ay sinalúbong silà ni Dyégo at ni Andrès. Inilapàg ni Hwàn ang kanya ng dalà, at sinábi nya sa dalawà: "Dala ko ríto ang iniyútos ninyo sa áki ng nakáwin. Dala ba ninyò ang lima ng daa ng píso?" Ang dalawà y hindí naniwála ng agàd. Kanyà` ang ginawá nila y binútas nilà ang sáko at sinílip nilà ang lamàn. Sa loòb ay nàkíta nila ang úlo nang párì` na may satsàt. Kanyà` iniyabòt nila kay Hwàn ang lima ng daa ng píso, at sila ng lahàt ay nanáog pagdáka. Iníwan nilà ang páre` úpang sya ay magpakawalà` sa kanya ng saríle. 31. ANG PANGHUHÚLI NANG MANGA UNGGÒ`. Hindí bihíra` sa manga gúbat na màtagpuàn ang malalakì ng káwal nang manga unggò`. Kung walà ng armàs ang isà ng nàpápasa kanila ng lugàr, silà y mababagsìk, at may pangánib na patayìn nilà ang táo ng kanila ng màpagkalipumpunàn. Silà kung nagàgálit ay nagsìsipanáog sa manga púnù nang káhoy at pinagtùtulùng-tulúnga ng kinákagat ang táo ng násàsa kapangyaríhan nilà. Dáhil díto ang isa ng táo ng naglálakad sa manga gúbat na marámi ng unggò` ay hindí magpàpabáya ng magdalà nang barìl. Ang manga unggò` kung pinùputukan nà nang barìl ay wala ng tákot. Karamíhan ay hindí nagtàtakbúhan, dátapuwat tinìtingnan nilà ang pinanggàgalíngan nang íngay at nang asò. Ang manga dinàratnan namàn nang bála ay sinásangga itò nang kanya ng kamày, pára ng sumásangga sa isa ng pukòl lámang. Kanyà` ang manga pálad nilà ay nàbùbútas dìn nang bála kung silà y tamaàn. Hindí bihíra` ang manga táo y nanghùhúle nang buhày na unggò` úpang kanila ng aliláin at ipagbilì sa manga taga iba t ibà ng lupaìn na nagsìsipuntà sa Filipínas. Ang panghuhúle nang buhày na unggò` ay hindí nangàngailángan nang malakì ng págod, dátapuwat ang paraàn nang paghúle sa kanila ay isà ng panglolóko lámang sa kanilà. Ito ng sumúsunòd ay isa ng halimbáwà nang paghúle sa kanilà. Kung ang isa ng táo ay íbig humúle nang unggò`, karanyúan ay naglùlúto` o nagpàpalúto sya nang kakanìn, at itò y hinàhalúan o pinahàhalúan niya nang balasìng. Ang balasìng ay isa ng butò nang haláman na nakalálasìng o nakapagáantòk nang malálim na antòk sa manga háyop na makàkáin. Gayon dìn ginàgámit itò sa panghuhúle nang isdá sa ílog. Pagkalútò nang kakanìn itò y dinádala nang táo sa lugàr na kinàdòroonàn nang káwal nang manga unggò`. Dátapuwat kung itò y ilagay nyà nang mahúsay sa lúpà` ang manga unggò` ay hindí magsìsipanáog úpang kumáin. Hinìhinálà nilà na ang kakanì ng iyòn ay páin lámang sa kanilà úpang silà y hulíhin o patayìn. Dáhil díto ang ginágawa nang táo ay nagtàtakut-takútan pagkátanaw nyà sa manga unggò`, at sya y nagtátakbò na súnong ang biláo nang kakanì ng may balasìng. Sa kanya ng pagtakbò ay nagdàdapa-dapáan syà, at dáhil díto y ang súnung nya ng kakanìn ay nàpàpalagpàk at nàsàsábog sa lúpa`. Kung itù y mangyári nà, ipinatùtúloy din nyà ang kanya ng pagtakbò, at sya y nangúngublè sa isa ng lugàr, úpang tanawìn nya ang pagkakàínan nang manga unggò`. Pagkàkíta nang manga unggò` sa patakbò ng pagalìs nang táo at pagkákubli nitò, silà y nagsìsipanáug sa manga púno-ng-káhoy at nagsìsipagagawàn nang kakanìn. Nagkàkàdagàn-dagàn silà sa pagaagawàn, at lubhà ng malakì ang íngay, sapagkàt ang báwat isa ng káwal nang unggò ay máy-roo ng limà ng daàn o isà ng líbo ang bílang. Pagkakáin nilà hindí nalàláon at sinúsumpong silà nang antòk, nagsìsipanghína` at hindí makaakyàt sa káhoy. Isa ng nakàtàtawa ng panoorìn ang manga unggò ng itò, matandà` at bátà`, ay nangàtàtalungkò sa lúpa` at nagsìsipagyukayòk báwat isà. Ang ibà ng hindí nagkapálad na makàágaw nang kakanìn ay nagsísiyakyàt sa púno-ng-káhoy at pinanónood ang kanila ng manga lasìng na kasamahàn. Pagaanyò` nang ganitò nang manga unggò`, ang táo ng nàkùkublì ay saká pa lámang lumàlápit at isa-isà ng sinùsunggabàn ang manga natùtúlug na unggò`. Hindí maláo ng panahòn ang pagubrà nang balasìng na itò, at ang manga unggò y nagsìsihúsay pagkaraàn nang ilà ng áraw. Ang ikalawà ng karanyúa ng gawìn sa panghuhúli nang unggò` ay ang pagpapáin sa kanila nang nyòg. Ang isa ng boò ng nyòg ay nilàlagyan nang bútas. Ang lakì nang bútas na itò ay hustò lámang na màipásuk nang unggò` ang kanya ng kamày kung walà ng tángan. Sa loòb nang báo nang nyòg ay inilálagay ang isa ng pirásu-ng-lamàn nang nyùg, at ang lahàt na itò y inilálagay sa lugàr nang manga unggò`. Ang manga unggò` ay magustúhin sa nyòg, at pagkàkíta nilà díto ay dinùdúkot nilà ang lamà ng nása loòb nang báo. Kung masunggabàn na namàn nilà ang lamàn nang nyòg, ang kanila ng kamày ay hindí nila màilabàs sa bútas, ní íbig namàn silà ng bitíwan ang lamàn nang nyòg. Dáhil díto silà y pára ng nakapangàw at paglápit nang táo ng manghuhúle ay hindí sila makaalìs, sapagkàt ang niyog namàn ay mabigàt at kung mínsan ay máy-roo ng pabigàt. Kanyà` paglápit nang manghuhúle, ay wala ng hírap nya ng nasùsunggabàn ang manga unggò` o matsìng na nangàpàpangàw. 32. ANG FIYÈSTA NI SANG-HWÀN. Ang abéynte-kwátru nang Húnyo ay sya ng áraw na kapyestáhan ni Sang-Hwàn, at itò y ipinagdìdíwang sa manga bayàn-bayàn sa lalawígan nang Bulakàn. Sa bwàn nang Húnyo ay kasalukúyan ang ulàn at mapútik. Ang paniwálà nang manga táo si Sang-Hwàn ay sya ng sànto ng nagpàpaulàn, dáhil díto y maibigìn sa túbig at pútik. Kanyà` ang manga pagdiríwang na ginágawà` sa kanya ng kaarawàn ay lubhà ng malakì ang pagkáiba sa pagdiríwang na ginágawa sa kaarawàn nang ibà ng sànto. Sa báya ng malalápit sa dágat kung bwàn nang Húnyo ay bumábahà`, at ang túbig ay umàáhon sa báyan. Sa manga báya ng malaláyo` sa dágat ay lubhà ng maulàn dìn, at karanyúwa y ang manga pagbahà ng itò at pagulàn ay nàtàtaòn sa kaarawàn ni Sang-Hwàn. Ang manga táo ng kasáli sa pagdiríwang ay nagsìsipagbasà` sa bahà` o sa ulàn. Sa manga báyan nang Malólos at Hagúnoy kung nàtàtaòn ang fyèsta ng itò sa isa ng bahà ng malakì, hálos lahàt nang táo ay naglúlublob sa túbig o kayà y nagsìsipamangkà`. Kung hindí namàn bahà`, ang manga táo y nagsìsipaglibòt lámang sa ulàn. Marámi ng taga búkid at taga báriyo ay nagsìsipagpalimòs sa kaarawà ng itò. Karamíhan sa kanilà ay manga báta` o kayà y manga bináta`. Bihíra ng máy manga babáye. Pangkat-pangkàt sila ng nagsìsipagpalimòs, at báwat isa ng pangkàt ay máy manga kasáma ng músiku ng bungbòng. Ang manga hindí nagsísitugtòg ang katungkúlan ay kumantà o kayà y sumayàw. Sila ng lahàt ay uwalà ng pamamáro` hálos, gáya nang manga Igoróte, dátapuwat ang boò ng katawàn mulá sa paà hanggàng úlo, patì manga matà at taínga, ay nàkùkulapúlan nang pútek. Ang manga pangkàt na itò ay tumàtáwag sa bahay-bahày. Naghíhintó sila sa harapàn nang báhay, at díto y tumútugtog silà o kayà y nagsìsikantà o nagsásayàw. Ang karanyúa ng kanila ng kantahìn ay úkol sa nagìng pamumúhay ni Sang-Hwàn o kayà y nang iba ng sànto ng kaybígan nitò. Sa kanila ng pagtutugtúgan ang kanila ng áyos ay makahiléra ng pabilòg, kung mínsan ay nakatayò`, kung mínsan ay nakatalungkò`, o kayà y nakaluhòd. Kung máy-roo ng nagkákantà o sumásayàw, itò y násàsa loòb nang bílog nang manga mànunugtòg, at doòn nya ginágawà ang kanya ng pagkantà o pagsayàw. Pagkaraàn nang dalawà o tatlò ng tugtúgan, kantáhan, o sàyáwan, sila y nagsìsipaghintò` at sabày-sabày na nagsìsipanghingì` nang limòs sa manga táo ng nanúnood sa kanilà. Kung sila y hindí limusàn, kumùkúha silà nang pútik sa kanila ng katawàn at pinúpukul nilà ang manga táo ng mararámot. Ang boò ng maghápun ay inùúbus nilà sa ganitò ng pagdiríwang. Ang manga manglilímos na itò ay lubhà ng marámi rìn, kanyà` silà y nakatùtúlung na magpasiglà sa báyan káhit na lubhà ng maulàn. Sa manga pagbabangkáan namàn ay hindí bihírà` ang magkalunòd ang manga táo. Kanyà ang ugáli ng itò ay unti-untì ng nawáwalà`. Gayon dìn sa manga panahò ng itò ang manga táo y nagíging kuríput at bihíra ng maglimòs. Kanyà` ang manga manghihingí nang limùs sa kaarawàn ni Sang-Hwàn ay untì-untì ng nawáwalà`. 33. ANG MANGA PANGINGÍLIN NANG MANGA KAMAGÁNAK NANG ISA NG NAMATÀY. Ang isà ng angkà ng namàmatayàn ay hindì` ang kanila ng loòb at káluluwa lámang ang nagtátamu nang hírap, kung hindì` patì ang bulsà rìn nilà. Itù y dahilàn sa lubhà ng malalakì ng dámi nang ginùgúgul nang namàmatayàn sa pagdadáos nang sarì-sári ng kaugaliàn. Sa áraw nang pagkamatày nang isa ng táo, sa angkàn nitò ay marámi ng lubhà` ang nagsìsidálaw, at ang manga nagsìsidálaw namà ng itò ay hindí nasìsyahàn nang pakikipagdalamhátì lámang sa kamaganákan nang namatày, dátapuwat silà y nagtútumirà sa báhay nang namatayàn. Dáhil díto ang angkàn nang namatày ay napìpilíta ng maghandá nang pangpakáin sa manga dálaw. Karanyúwa y hindí inilílibing agàd ang patày, dátapuwat ibinùbúrol múna ng dalawà o tatlo ng áraw mulá sa pagkalagùt nang hiningà. Sa manga áraw na itò áraw-gabì ay walà ng patìd ang dálaw nang manga táo. Karamíhan ay manga kamagának at ibà y manga kaybígan, kápit-báhay, o ibà ng kakilála sa báyan. Kung ang namatày ay isa ng táo ng marámi ng kaybígan o kamaganákan sa iba ng báyan sila màn ay dumàdálaw rìn, at silà y dápat na bigyàn nang tìráhan at pagkáin nang angkàn nang namatày. Itò y ganitò sapagkàt sa manga bayàn-bayàn sa provìnsiya ay walà ng báhay-tùlúyan. Sa pagpapakáin sa marámi ng dálaw na itò hindí bihíra ng nakaùúbus silà nang kabyàk na báka at ilà ng túpa, kambèng, at hindí mabílang na manga manòk. Ang kosinéro karanyúwa y upahàn, at ang malalápit na kamagának nang namatày ay nagsìsitúlung na maglúto`. Dáhil díto sa báhay nang namatayàn ang lugàr na kinàbùburúlan nang patày ay tahímik na tahímik at káhit na marámi ng táo ang nàròroòn, pabulòng lámang kung silà y magsàlitáan. Dátapuwat sa kainàn at lutuàn ang íngay ay hindí karanyúan. Isa t isà y nagùútos sa manga alíla`, may naghùhúgas nang pinggàn o kayà y manga palayòk, may nagpàpakintàb nang manga tinidòr at kutsílyo, may nagháhandà` sa lamésa, at iba pà. Sa kusínà namàn ang sagitsìt nang kawále` ay wala ng lubày. Ang pagtatadtàd nang karnè ay wala ng patìd at ang tinìg nang kosinéro at kanya ng alagàd ay sya na lámang nàrìrinìg. Dátapuwat sa isa ng silìd namàn nang báhay ay doòn nàròroòn at nàlùlugmòk sa pagdadalamháte` ang manga angkàn nang namatày. Sila y nagsísiyàk nang úbus-lakàs at kung mínsa y nagdúduklày-duklày silà nang kung ano-anò ang mangyàyári sa kanila ng pamumúhay dahilàn sa pagpánaw nang namatày. Kung mayáman ang namatày, itò y ipinadàdápit sa párè` at iniháhatid sa simbáhan. Pagdatìng doòn sa simbáhan binèbendisyunàn nang párè` ang patày at pagkatápos ay iniháhatid dìn nya sa lìbíngan. Ang lahàt nang manga dálaw ay kasáma sa paglilibìng na itò at kadalasà y nàsàsakay silà sa manga karumáta. Ang manga karumáta ng itò namàn ay upahàn, líban na lámang sa ilà ng árì nang manga dálaw. Pagkálibing nang patày ang manga dálaw na taga iba ng báyan ay doon dìn ang wè` sa báhay nang namatày. Kadalasàn silà y nagsìsialìs agàd, dátapuwat kung magkàbihíra` ay silà y nagtítira na tatlu ng áraw úpang makàsále sa pagtatatlo-ng-gabè. Ang tatlù ng gabè ay idinàdáos sa báhay nang namatày. Díto ay dumàdálaw ang manga kamaganákan at silà y nagsísipagdasàl. Sa pagdadasàl na itò ay ang manga matatandá lámang ang kasáli, at ang manga binátà at dalága ay nagsìsipagbugtúngan namàn. Ang ganitò ng pangingílin ay ginágawa sa loòb nang tatlu ng gabè. Sa katapusà ng gabè karanyúa y lubhà ng marámi ang táo, at ang handà` ay malakì káy sa dalawà ng gabì ng nagdaàn. Marámi rìn namàn sa manga nagsísidalò ang nagbíbigay nang limùs sa namatayàn. Karanyúwa y manga pangpakáin sa manga dálaw. Sa manga angkà ng mahihírap ang manga pangingíli ng ito ay ginágawá rìn, dátapuwat ang pagdápit at paghahatìd lámang nang pári sa patày ay walà`. Sa pagbebendisyòn nang patày ang isa ng táo y makabàbáyad sa páre` nang gustuhìn nyà. Ang pinakamúra ay ang pagbebendisyòn sa patày sa pintúan lámang nang simbáhan at sa sahìg nàlàlapàg. Ang sumúsunòd ay ang pagbebendisyòn nang patày sa pintúan dìn, dátapuwat nàpàpátung lámang ang ataòl sa isa ng altàr. Ang manga mahahalagà ng pagbebendisyòn ay ginágawà` sa tabì nang altàr. Mulá sa isa ng daà ng píso hanggàng sa lima ng daàn ang manga halagà nitò. 34. ANG TAKBÚHAN SA AMERIKÁNO. Ang manga táo sa San-Migèl ay nagìng pára ng manga káwal nang háyop na umìílag sa manga pamálo` nang manga pastòl at panghahábol nang manga áso ng mababagsìk. Silà y lubhà ng maibigìn sa katahimíkan at kapayapaàn. Gayon dìn sila y lubhà ng pàniwalaìn sa sabi-sabì, at itò ng manga bágay na yitò ay sya ng hindí ikinàpátag nang marámi sa kanilà sa báyan sa panahòn nang manga paghihìmagsíkan lában sa Kastíla` at sa Amerikáno. Totoò rìn namàn na marámi sa kanilà ay nangagsipagtakbò dahilàn lámang sa katakútan o kadwágan. Nang mangyári ang paghihìmagsíkan lában sa Kastíla` nang taò ng isa ng líbo walu ng daàn at siyàm na pu t ánim, akò y àápat na taòn pa lámang sa gúlang. Áyon sa sinábi sa ákin nang áki ng nánay, kamì ay nagsipuntà sa Mayníla` sa lugàr nang umáhon sa bundòk. Walá ako ng marámi ng natàtandaàn nang manga nangyári sa panahò ng yaòn, kung hindí ang bágay nang ámi ng pagpuntà sa estasyòn nang trèn. Pagdatìng sa Mayníla` ay hindí kami nakapások sa loòb nang báyan kung hindì` may pahintúlot nang isa ng pinúno` sa báya ng iyòn. Ang sumúsunod na bágay na nátalà` sa áki ng pangalaála ay ang pagkátira námin sa Bigaà, sa báhay nang isa ng mànananggòl na ang pangála y si Don-Nasáryo. Ang dahilàn nang ikinalípat námin sa báya ng itò ay ang pagílag sa paglalabanàn nang manga Katipúnan at manga Kastíla` sa Mayníla`. Sa Bigaà ay manga sundálo ng Tagálog sa kanila ng pagsasánay sa pakikipaglában. Hindí nalaúnan at kamì ay nápasa báyan nang Bùstos. Ang báya ng itò ay nasàsákup dìn sa manga panahò ng iyòn nang manga Katipunéros. Ang báya ng iyòn ay lubhà ng magandà dahilàn sa sarì-sáre ng hitsúra nang manga bágay-bágay na nàkìkíta. Ang ílug ay lubha ng maláwak, ang pasígan ay malápad, may manga buntòn nang batò at buhángin sa pasígan. Ang ámi ng manga kaybíga ng tinulúyan ay mababaìt na táo. Akò at ang áki ng kapatìd na babáye ay kanila ng paráti ng ipinalílibàng, at ang paglilibàng na itò ay ang pagpapasísid nang páto sa malínaw na túbig sa ílog. Kung anò ang nangyári sa manga paglalabanàn nang manga panaho ng iyòn ay hindí ku nàalamàn, dahilàn sa kaliitàn at kawalàn pa nang málay. Nang dumatìng ang takbúhan sa Amerikáno, akò y may gúlang na nang kauntì`, at marámi akù ng natàtandaàn sa ámi ng pagtakbò sa bundòk. Nang ang manga Amerikáno ay nagsìsipanálo na lában sa manga sundálo ni Aginàldo ang manga táo sa báya-ng-San-Migèl ay pinagsisiglàn nang tákot. Lumagánap sa báyan ang balíta` na ang manga Amerikáno ay manga táo ng salbáhe, malulupìt, at mababagsìk at wala ng pìtágan sa káhit anu pa màn. Itò y sigúru ng isa ng balíta ng pakálat nang manga Kastíla` at lálù na nang manga kúra sa Filipínas. Dáhil sa pagkatákot nang manga táo sa manga Amerikáno hálus kami ng lahàt na namàmáyan ay nagsipagbalùt at nagsiáhun sa bundòk. Kamì ay nàtìtirà noòn sa báhay nang isa ng áli nang áki ng nánay, at doòn ay kasúno rìn námin ang angkàn nang kúya nang áki ng nánay. Áki ng natàtandaàn na máy-roò ng mahigìt na sà m pu ng áraw ang pagbabastáan at ang paghahàkútan nang manga kasangkápan námi ng magkakasúno`. Ang manga karitòn na máy lúla ng kasangkápan ay gabì kung ipalákad, úpang ang manga kalabàw na humìhíla ay huwàg magsisáyad sa kainítan nang áraw. Ang manga karitòn ay pùnúan hanggàng sa ituktòk nang kárang nitò at ang manga kalabàw ay lubhà ng nahirápan sa paghíla nang mabibigàt na lúlan. Nang walá na ng nàtìtirà sa manga abúbot ay kamì namà ng manga táo ang nagsilúlan sa karitòn úpang ihatìd sa bundòk. Ang lugàr na ámi ng pinarunàn ay tinàtáwag na Paà-ng-Bundòk, kalaháti-ng-áraw na lakárin mulá sa Sibòl. Doòn ang dinatnàn námi ng titirhàn ay isa ng kúbo lámang na may atìp na kúgon at lubhà ng maliìt. Ang sahìg ay manga sangà nang káhoy na pinutúlan nang manga maliliìt na sangà, dátapuwat hindí makikínis ní hindí pantay-pantày. Gayon dìn lubhà ng maliìt at pinàpások nang hángin at lamìg. Ganoòn ang ámi ng tinirhàn na may ila ng bwàn, sa lugàr nang báhay na tablà nang áli nang áki ng nánay. Doòn sa Paà-ng-Bundòk ay nakátagpu kamì nang maràmi ng kababáyan na nagsiílag dìn, at ang manga náhuli ng nagsidatìng ay nagbalíta ng ang lahàt nang táo sa báyan ay nangása bundok nà o kayà y nangása ibà ng báyan nà. Ang báya-ng-San-Migèl ay nawalà`, dátapuwat ang manga báhay ay sya lámang nàròroòn. Pagkaraàn nang ila ng bwà ng pagtitirà námin sa Paà-ng-Bundòk ay lumípat kamì sa isa ng lugàr na líhim. Ang lugàr na iyòn ay isà ng kaingìn sa kagubátan. Walà ng nakààalam ní sínu man sa ámin ang pangálan nang lugàr, at ang ibà ng nakààalàm ay inilíhim na lubhà`, úpang hwag màpagalamàn nang iba ng táo ang ámi ng kinàtàtagúan. Iyòn ay paraàn nang pangingílag hindí sa kaáway lámang, dátapuwat sa tulisàn at magnanákaw dìn. Ang báhay na tinirhàn námin doòn ay lubhà ng malakì, mahába ng mahába` sa ilálim nang isà ng bubungàn. Ang kabahayàn ay hináti nang magkakasinglakì ng kwàrto. Máy-roo ng walò ang bílang nitò. Sa báwat kwàrto ay isà ng angkàn ang nátirà. Díto ay máy-roon dì ng ila ng bwàn ang ámi ng ikinàpagtirà. Nang màlàlapit nà sa báya-ng-San-Migèl ang manga Amerikáno, nàbalitáan námin na ang manga táo ng itò y hindí gáya nang manga sabì-sabè, kanyà` umuntí nang umuntì` ang ámi ng tákot sa kanilà. Dáhil díto y umalìs kamì sa ámi ng malálim na taguàn, at naparoòn kamì sa Páho`. Itò y isà ng lugàr sa bundok dìn, dátapuwat malápit nang kauntì` sa báyan. Díto y lubhà ng marámi kamì ng dinatnàn nang manga kababáyan at tagà iba t ibà ng lugàr. Karamíhan sa kanilà ay máy manga sakìt, dahilàn sa pagtitirà sa bundòk. Díto nagkaroòn nang malakì ng kagamitàn ang manga gamòt na ipinaáhon ni Nánay sa bundòk, at hindí iníwan sa báyan. Ang manga gamòt na itò y árì ni Tátay at kanya ng iníwan sa pagkapatápun sa kanyà nang manga kúra sa Holò. Isa ng umága máy-roo ng tumáwag sa ámi ng báhay úpang bumilì nang gamòt. Hinánap ni Nánay ang kahò ng kinàlàlagyàn nang gamòt. Nang itò y mabuksan nà ay nàkíta námin ang isà ng áhas na nakaíkid at natùtúlog sa ibábaw nang ipà na nàtàtábon sa manga bóte. Malaki ng twà` nang ibà ng táo ng nakàkíta, dátapuwat si Nánay ay natákot lámang. Hindí nya nàlàláman ang kahulugàn nang áhas na iyòn. Pagkaraàn nang kàtwáan ay itinanùng ni Nánay kung anò ang dáhil at silà y nagkàkàtwáan. Isinagòt nilà kay Nánay na ang kahulugàn nang áhas na iyòn ay ang pagpatúngo sa pagyáman nang may árì nang gamòt. Si Nánay ay nàpatawà lámang sa kanilà ng sábi, at hindí sya nanìniwálà sa manga bágay na iyòn. Nang makaraàn ang ilà ng bwàn ay iníwan námin ang Páho` at umwí kamì sa báyan. Nang kamì ay dumatìng na doòn, marámi sa ila ng kasangkápan na naíwan námin ay pinagnakàw nang ila ng táo ng nangaíwan sa báyan. Ang tablà na sahìg nang báhay nang áli ni Nánay ay walá na, at hindí nila nàláman kung síno ang kumúha. Hindí nalaúnan ang ámi ng pagdatìng sa báyan at nàbalíta ng ang manga sundálo ng Amerikáno ay malápit na sa báya-ng-San-Migèl. Kamì ay hindí nabagábag sa balíta ng itò, at hinintày námin ang kanila ng pagdatìng. Isà ng katanghalían ay matahímik ang báyan. Ang manga sundálu ng nangása báyan ay nangagsialìs at ang ibà ng hindí umalìs ay ipinagtapòn ang kanila ng manga barìl. Ang dahilàn nang bágay na iyòn ay ang pagpások nang manga sundálo ng Amerikáno. Sa dulúhan nang bakúran nang báhay na ámi ng kinàtirhàn ay nàkíta ko ang paglápit nang manga sundálo. Ang salawàl nilà ay káki at ang kamiséta asùl. Bitbìt nilà ang manga barìl at nakahiléra sila nang pagtakbò sa bukirìn at patúngo silà sa daàn. Nang ang manga Amerikáno y sya nà ng namàmahála` sa báyan, may ila ng bwà ng ang manga útos ay mahihigpìt. Ang manga ílaw ay ipinapápatay sa alasès nang gabì, at wala ng táo ng pinahìhintulúta ng maglakàd pagkaraàn nang óras na itò. Sa manga bundòk na malápit sa San-Migèl ay marámi ng manga sundálo ng Tagálog at madalàs nila ng sinalakáyan ang báya-ng-San-Migèl. Dáhil sa manga pagsalákay na itò, ang manga báhay sa San-Migèl ay pinagsunòg nang manga Amerikáno. Kung gabi-gabì ang pagsalákay nang manga sundálo, gabi-gabì rìn namàn ang ginawà ng panunúnog nang manga báhay. Ang ámi ng manga kápit-báhay ay nagsìsilípat sa ámin gabi-gabì úpang doòn makitúlog, sapagkàt sa ámi ng báhay ay hindí lubhà ng malakì ang pangánib sa manga bála nang nagsìsipaglabanàn. Ang manggagamòt nang manga sundálo ng Amerikáno na násàsa báya-ng-San-Migèl ay nagìng kaybígan nang áki ng tátay, at dáhil díto y náligtas sa súnog ang ámi ng tìráhan. Mínsan ay sinábi nang manggagámot na itò kay Tátay na madalàs sya ng sumáma sa manga patrúlya at sinàsábi nya ríto na hwag sunúgin ang ámi ng báhay. Sa kalaúnan, nang hindí mapaalìs nang manga sundálo ng Tagálog ang manga Amerikáno sa báyan, ay hinintuàn na nilà ang pananalákay, at ang báya y tumahímik nà. TRANSLATION 1. THE FOOLISH MONKEY AND THE CLEVER TURTLE. Once upon a time, when the turtle was swimming in the river, he saw a banana-tree adrift and being carried along by the current. He dragged it to the beach, but was not able to carry it up to the solid ground. Therefore he called his friend, the monkey, and offered him a half of the banana-tree, if he would plant his part for him. The monkey agreed, and they divided the banana-tree at the middle, half-way from either end. The monkey took the half which had leaves, because he thought it would grow better than the half which had none. When a few days had passed, the monkey's tree died, while that of the turtle grew until it bore fruit. The bananas grew ripe, but the turtle could not climb for them. Therefore he called his friend, the monkey, and offered him some of the fruits of the banana, if he would climb the tree. The monkey climbed up and ate for all he was worth. Said the turtle: "Throw me some." But the monkey answered: "Though sweet the skins, I'd throw you none." The turtle got angry and scattered spines round the foot of the tree. When the monkey jumped down, he landed on the spines. He suspected the turtle and looked for him, in order to punish him. He found the turtle behind a stump. Said he to the turtle: "I am going to punish you. Choose between the two: shall I bray you in a mortar or drown you in the river?" The clever turtle began to shout and begged the monkey, if it were possible, to bray him in a mortar. But the monkey answered: "I shall give you the punishment you don't want." And he threw the turtle into the river. When the turtle arrived in the water, he set up a shout and said to the monkey: "Thank you, friend! This is my home." Note. p. 16, l. 2 ang pagòng hábang nalìlígo` is unusual and no doubt traditional for hábang ang pagòng ay nalìlígo`. Similarly, p. 16, l. 18 Balat màn at malinamnàm ... is traditional (proverbial) for modern Káhit na malinamnàm ang manga balàt. 2. THE RACE OF THE DEER AND THE SNAIL. A deer, grazing in the jungle, came upon a snail that was creeping over the leaf of a bamboo-plant. The deer ceased from his grazing and watched the slow creeping of the snail. When a few moments had passed, he said to the snail: "How slowly you walk! Why don't you learn to walk faster? Look at me,--I am often pursued by dogs, but my swift running is what saves my life. But look at you,--if you should be pursued by any foe, what will ever save your life? Surely you will get killed." When the snail had heard these words, he looked at the deer and scanned his fine physique, his long legs, and his strong muscles. He wished that he too might be like the deer, so that he could run fast. However, he thought that if he forced himself to run, he should not remain far behind the deer. Accordingly he answered the deer: "You are overweening. You do not suspect what can be done by one who has a strong will. I challenge you to race with me from here to the river that lies west of here." The deer laughed loudly and answered the snail: "How can you think you will defeat me? I suppose you are going to cheat." The snail answered that he was not going to cheat, and, so that there might be someone to watch them and be judge over their race, he suggested that they call one of their friends to be judge. The deer agreed, and they called an owl to be judge. When they began to run, the snail was soon left far behind. On his course the deer came upon a flourishing grass-field. He stopped to graze, since his start over the snail was so great. He planned that when he saw the snail coming, he would start running again. However, when he had done feeding, he was attacked by laziness. He went to sleep, with the thought that he would wake up before the snail arrived. However, while he was asleep, the snail passed by. When he awoke, it was already late in the afternoon. He ran with all his might to the river, and there he was met by the snail and their judge, the owl. "You are defeated," said their judge at once. 3. A GOOD FRIDAY. Juan and his friend Pedro were canoeing on the river toward the town Baliwag. In their canoe they had an image of Christ which they were conveying to a priest to be used in the celebration of a Good Friday Mass. Juan was filled with terror. Said he to Pedro: "This man of ours in the canoe is all chopped up with wounds and no longer breathing. I think this man is a corpse. I am afraid we shall be suspected by the priest to whom we are delivering him." Pedro answered: "We shall tell him that when this man was loaded into our canoe, he was already in this condition. We have many witnesses, so don't be afraid." When they reached the priest they gave him the image. The priest told them to come to church the next day in the afternoon to hear the sermon. Juan was again filled with terror, for he could not make out why the priest wanted them to go to the church. He had often heard of men being summoned to the church and there seized by the gendarmes. However, he did not say anything to Pedro, for he saw that the latter had no fear. On the next day in the afternoon they went to church, and there they saw a Christ nailed to the cross. Said Juan: "That man, if you remember, is the one we delivered to the priest. We had better go to some place out of sight of the priest." So the two of them went under the pulpit, to hear the sermon from there. The Good Friday Mass began, and the priest was already getting to the last part of his sermon. In his sermon the priest said: "Repent ye of your sins, cruel people! Behold the wounds which you struck in the body of our Savior!" When Juan heard this, he was again filled with terror, for he thought that he had fallen under suspicion. Therefore, what he did was to come out from under the pulpit, face the priest, and say: "Father, we are not the ones who wounded this man! When he was loaded into our canoe he was already wounded." When he had said this, he went back under the pulpit. The priest paid no attention to the speech he had heard, and went on with his sermon. "The day has come now, when ye sinners must repent. The portals of Heaven are open now through the death of our Savior, and every sinner can enter Heaven, if he repent. But if ye do not repent, ye shall come to be punished with sufferings without end in the flames of Hell for the sufferings which ye caused our Savior to undergo. Behold His body sweating blood, His hands and feet nailed to the cross, and His wounds from head to feet. No one other caused Him to suffer and wounded His dear body, than you, ye sinners, and if ye do not repent, ye shall fall into Hell." Juan could not remain in his place, for he thought that the priest was overflowing with anger against him. So he again faced the priest and said, as loudly as he could: "Father, only a moment ago I told you that I had no part in wounding this man, so do not send me, sir, to Hell." The priest was filled with great anger and said to the congregation: "What sort of people are you, foolish folk? Is there not one among you who can take hold of this fellow and choke him?" When Juan heard this, he ran with all his might, trampling without regard the people who were kneeling and weeping in repentance of their sins. He was followed by Pedro, and the two ran together, without stopping, until they reached their home town. And there they told the story of their narrow escape. 4. THE HUNCHBACK AND THE BLINDMAN. A hunchback and a blindman were close friends. When they walked, the hunchback led the blindman; the blindman, on the other hand, carried the hunchback on his shoulders, when they had a hard road to travel, for the hunchback was weak of body. Once they came upon a cocoanut-tree. They wanted to pick some of the fruits, but they did not know which of the two of them should be the one to climb the tree. The blindman said that he should not be able to climb, because he should not be able to see which fruits to pick, since there were many unripe fruits. The hunchback also did not want to climb, on account of his weakness. However, he was very eager to eat of the cocoanuts, so, finally, he said to the blindman that he would do the climbing. "To prevent your being robbed of the fruits which I shall throw down, do you count out loud the thud on the ground of the fruits as I drop them, so that I may keep track of the number." The hunchback began to climb, but when he was half-way up, he fell down. "One!" said the blindman. The hunchback told him that it was he who had made the thud and not a cocoanut. He climbed again. After a few moments he took another fall. "Two!" shouted the blindman. The hunchback got angry and told the blindman that he was stubborn. He said: "That first thing that made a thud was I, and the second one was I again; I haven't yet picked any cocoanuts." But the blindman planned to make fun of the hunchback's falls. So he decided that, when he again heard a thud, he would cry "Three!" The hunchback climbed again, but again fell. The blindman cried "Three!" and laughed. The hunchback grew hot with anger. He went up to the blindman and slapped him in the face. The slap hit the blindman's eyes, and through it his eyes came open. To take revenge he kicked the hunchback. He struck him on the back, and through this his hump was straightened out. They both rejoiced at what had happened, and their friendship grew all the closer, instead of their becoming enemies. 5. THE KING WHO HAD HORNS AND JUAN. On a group of islands there ruled a man who had two short horns hidden in his thick hair. This was not known to his subjects, but the secret began to spread among the people by way of the barbers who had cut his hair. On account of this he conceived a great anger against barbers and planned to exterminate the barbers in his kingdom. He ordered four deep wells dug in front of his residence, and in the center between the four pits he had a seat placed. One day he sat down on the chair between the four pits, and asked everyone who passed whether he knew how to cut hair. Whenever anyone said "Yes," he stopped him, gave him a pair of shears, and had him cut his hair. After a little while he asked each hair-cutter what he saw on his, the king's, head. The hair-cutters all told the truth, and each one of them answered that he saw horns. Every one who answered thus was pushed by the king into one of the pits that were round him. A few days passed and two of the pits were already filled with barbers and were ordered by the king to be filled up with earth. The passers-by who knew how to cut hair grew scarce, and the king thought he had already killed all the barbers in his kingdom. One day he waited on his seat until mid-day, before a man came by who said he knew how to cut hair. The king asked him: "What is your name?" The man answered: "My name, sir, is Juan." "Cut my hair, Juan," commanded the king. Juan approached the king and began to cut his hair. After a short time the king asked: "What do you see on my head, Juan?" His reply was thus: "Your Majesty, I see on your head the crown." This made the king glad. Therefore he got up from his seat and led Juan into his palace and made Juan barber royal. He gave Juan large wages and had the remaining pits filled up. 6. THREE STUDENTS. Juan, Pedro, and Andrés were three students from the same town who were friends. When the opening of the schools came, they knew that they would part: each one of them was to go to a different town. Before they parted, they appointed a place where they would meet at the beginning of the vacation. A year passed, the closing of the schools arrived, the students returned to their home towns, and the three friends, Pedro, Juan, and Andrés met in the town where Pedro had been brought up, to spend the vacation there. When they came together, after discussing various matters, they inquired how much each of them had learned in his study of the Spanish language. Pedro said that he knew a great many Spanish words, but that which he remembered best was the word "Vamos." Juan in turn answered: "I too know a great deal, but what I recall just now is the word 'Matar.'" Andrés said that he had learned nothing except the word "Si." After their conversation Pedro suggested that they go boating on the river and take a bath. When they were boating on the river, they saw on the bank a Spaniard who wanted to bathe. Pedro said it would be a good idea to speak to the Spaniard, so that each one of them might show his knowledge. Pedro began and said "Vamos!" Juan answered "Matar!" And last came Andrés with his "Si!" When the Spaniard heard this, he was filled with terror, for he thought that the three canoers were going to kill him. Therefore, even though he did not know how to swim, he jumped into the river and was drowned. 7. A SOLDIER WHO KNEW LATIN. Three friends, a priest, a physician, and a soldier, went together to shoot wild game in a deep jungle. As the jungle was far from the town, they carried plenty of provisions, so as not to be in want of food. A few days passed without their bagging anything. Their provisions grew less and less, until there was nothing left except one raw egg. There came to them the day of great hunger, but the three had no food except the egg that was left. The priest said that, if they divided the one egg, it would do them no good, for it would not slacken their hunger. Therefore the priest suggested that only one of them should eat the remaining egg, and in his selfishness he suggested that whichever of them was best at speaking Latin should eat the egg all by himself. He thought that the soldier did not know Latin, and the doctor alone would be his opponent, and his knowledge he held in contempt. The doctor agreed to the advice of the priest, but the soldier did not want to consent, for he had not studied like the priest and the doctor, but there was nothing for him to do. The priest took the egg and tapped it against a stone. When the egg was broken, he said: "Coronatum est," and looked at his two companions. The doctor took the broken egg, removed the broken part of the shell, put on some salt, and said: "Saltum est." The physician handed the egg to the soldier, and the priest and he waited for what the soldier would say. The latter did not know what to say, for he really did not know a single iota of Latin. In his cogitation he remembered that once, when he went to church to hear the Good Friday Mass, he heard from the priest that the meaning of the words "Consummatum est" was "It is all over now." So he poured the egg into his mouth and, when he had swallowed it, he said: "Consummatum est." His two companions were greatly astonished at the learning of the soldier, which they had by no means suspected. 8. THE SEVEN DWARVES. A certain married couple had seven children who were dwarves. The father was out of work and could not find any. The mother also was not earning any money, for her body was weak and often sick. One noon they were sitting on a bench and discussing the life they were leading. The man asked what they had better do with their many children. The woman suggested that they should look for work for their children, so that they might earn money. But the man answered that, in his opinion, they would not be able to find any work, since he himself had not been able to find any. Therefore he suggested that they had better abandon their children. This made the woman grieve and weep. She would not consent to abandon the children. But her husband made it clear to her that, if they did not do this, they would all die of hunger. Finally the woman consented and they agreed that they would take their children for a walk and leave them on the way. While they were discussing this, the seventh child was in a crack of the bench on which they were sitting and heard what their parents were going to do to them. After they had finished talking, the child at once looked for his brothers and sisters and told them what he had heard. They all wept, because their parents had not told them that they were a burden to their life. They thought that, if they had known this, they would have done anything whatever to help them gain a living. However, they agreed that they would go along, if they were asked to go walking, and would allow themselves to be led astray. On the next day their father came to them, told them to get dressed, gave them some cakes, and told them that they should all go for a walk. When they started out, the seventh child did not eat his bread, but, starting at their gate, he crumbled it and scattered it along the road which they were walking. When they had gone some distance, he ran out of bread and asked his brothers and sisters for some. But they did not give him any. He did not tell them why he had run out of bread so soon. When he could get no bread, he picked up stones and these he dropped one by one on their path. When they came to a jungle, their parents left them, telling them to wait for them there and that they would soon come back. Their parents left them, but they knew that their parents would not come back to them. When a short time had passed, they heard a noise. They went toward the place from which the noise came. There they saw a great giant bathing by the side of a well. They looked round about the place, and by the side of a tree they saw the clothes of the giant. The seventh child sent his brothers and sisters away and told them to hide, and he would steal the giant's shoes. They did this and the child stole the shoes. When the giant had finished bathing and was getting dressed, he could not find his shoes. He got angry and cursed. He called for help. When the one who had stolen the shoes heard this, he quickly approached. When the giant saw him, he did not suspect him, for, on account of his smallness, the giant thought that he would not be able to carry the shoes. Therefore the giant said to him: "If you will carry this bag of money of mine to my wife and tell her to buy some shoes and to bring them to me, I shall pay you much money." He said further that he could not walk without shoes, and therefore he should hurry. Taking the bag of money, the child promised to return at once. However, when he had gone some distance, he called his hidden brothers and sisters, and when they were assembled, he suggested that they go home. But his brothers and sisters answered that they did not know the way home. He however answered that they should follow the stones and bread he had dropped on the way. One of his brothers said that, if he had known what he had done with the bread, he would have given him some when he asked for it. They were sorry for the stinginess they had shown toward their brother. It was not long before they came upon the trail of stones along their way. This they followed and arrived at their house, bringing with them the bag of money, which they at once gave to their parents. The latter rejoiced and were sorry for their bad conduct toward their children,--they rejoiced because they had now the means of living for a long time to come. 9. A POLICEMAN WHO PLAYED VAMPIRE. In the summer of the year 1902, when the ripe fruits of the fruit-trees were hanging from the branches, there circulated all through the town of San Antonio the rumor that a vampire was going about the town. The people of San Antonio in those years believed in ghosts, vampires, dwarves, and other objects of terror. Most of them had not been fortunate enough to get an education, but, in spite of this, they were kindly, quiet, and industrious people. The houses in this town were built of nipa-fibre and bamboo. There were also some frame houses. Most of them stood in large enclosures, and the rear part of these yards was planted with trees that have tasty fruits, such as the custard-apple, grape-fruit, santol, mabolo, mango, and the like. These fruits were just getting ripe, when the rumor spread that, for several nights back, some women had caught sight of the vampire in various back yards. The women and children were filled with great terror; accordingly, as soon as darkness came down, they staid still in their houses. Most of the men also were afraid, but there were some who said that they were not afraid, because they had not yet come across a vampire and therefore did not know whether it was really to be feared. A vampire is a being of great power. It changes its body into various forms. At some times it has a body like a human being, but black, at others it is a large dog or pig. It eats people, especially children. But its favorite food, by far, and that which it most commonly eats, is the child yet unborn and still in its mother's womb. Therefore the pregnant women in the town had great fear. They did not allow their husbands to sleep, for watching at their side. A vampire is hard to kill with knife or gun, because it has but one place which one must hit or wound in order to kill it, and this place is secret. The only thing it flees from is garlic, which therefore is much used in driving off vampires. A surprising thing, however, about this vampire was its habit of keeping itself in back yards. Strange was also the fact that it was mostly young girls who said that they had caught sight of this vampire in back yards, up in grape-fruit trees and other trees. A few bold men said that they suspected that this spook was a thief and no vampire. It was a certain policeman of more than usual courage who spied upon this vampire in a back yard in which it had recently been seen. When darkness came, he went to his hiding-place. It was not long before the vampire came and climbed on a grape-fruit tree, and he heard it picking many fruits. It came down and went away, but was followed by the policeman to a house which it entered. Great was the surprise of the policeman, when he saw here his fellow policeman wrapped up in a black sheet and just putting down on the floor a black bag full of grape-fruit. He summoned his fellow policeman to the town hall and there on the next day accused him before the judge. The policeman who had played vampire was put in jail for the crime of theft. 10. A VAMPIRE THAT GOT KILLED. One evening in a students' boarding-house in the town of Malolos I heard an old man, ninety years of age, tell a company the following story: When he was still a young unmarried man, he lived in the country. There were only a very few neighbors. One day there was a death in the house of a neighbor. Following an ancient custom, he went to the house of mourning. When he arrived there it was not long before he was told that there was a vampire in the place. He had a great and inherited hatred of vampires and therefore decided to watch that night. Late in the evening he left the house and in a wagon not far from the house, there he lay down. There was a full moon that night, so that he had a clear view of things round about. As he saw nothing that could be suspected of being a vampire, he went to sleep. At midnight he woke up, and the first thing that struck his eyes was a black object on the roof of the house where there had been a death. This black thing had not been there before he went to sleep, so he suspected that this was the vampire he had been told about. Vampires eat dead people, so he concluded that the dead person was the thing for which the vampire had come there. Carrying a bolo-knife, he went up to the house. The people were asleep. Up above he saw something hanging down from the roof of the house. It was like the intestine of a chicken. It got longer and longer, until the end of it went into the mouth of the dead person. The corpse stood up from the place where it lay, when this thing went into its mouth. What the young man did was to walk up to the upright corpse and, with the bolo he was carrying, cut the thing that was like the intestine of a chicken. When he had cut this, something came down with a thud at the side of the house. He went down, and there he saw the dead vampire. 11. SORCERERS. In some places in the Philippines the people have a firm belief in sorcerers. According to their belief a sorcerer is a person of great power, and this power comes from a demon or else is inherited from one's parents. Before one may gain this power one must first become friends with a demon and serve it. However, there are some also who believe that one may find or snatch up this power in a jungle or some uncanny place that is hard to reach and usually full of terror. The kulam is that seized, inherited, or given by the demon, and it is the source of the possessor's power. The appearance of the kulam is not always the same. Sometimes it is a stone or a small doll of ugly appearance. In the dark this kulam glows like a firefly, but this glow disappears when the kulam desires it. The kulam and the person, man or woman, who possesses it, do not separate even for a moment, and even when bathing the sorcerer carries his kulam. Therefore, curious people, when they wish to find out whether a person whom they suspect is really a sorcerer or not, watch him at his bath. If the sorcerer is not careful and has no suspicion that he is being watched, the watcher sometimes succeeds in seeing the kulam. The sorcerer has also the power of concealing the kulam inside his body, and the people are not rare who have seen a sorcerer at his death. At the last moment, before breathing ceases, he spits out the kulam. This happens only when the sorcerer does not wish to bequeath his kulam. If, however, he wishes to bequeath it, then, long before the sorcerer dies, he calls the person to whom he wishes to bequeath it and in all secrecy gives him the kulam. The great power of the sorcerer is used by him against his enemies, against people who have incurred his anger; or against their live stock, in case he wishes to make this latter the object of his vengeance. He also uses his power in playing jokes on a person or animal that has gained his liking. His victim usually acts like crazy. Sometimes the person he has bewitched complains that his whole body is sore, keeps shouting, and cannot keep quiet even for a moment. In the case of animals,--usually the pig most valued by the owner,--the punishment he gives is like the disease of cholera, but more severe than this. The bowel-movement of the animal does not stop, and after a few hours, no matter how fat the animal, it becomes skin and bone. The bewitched person eats mightily, like two men, and keeps asking for tasty food. Therefore people believe that the sorcerer who is punishing him shares in the eating of the sick person. The sorcerer has the power of entering the body of the person bewitched. This is the belief, but in what way the sorcerer effects his entrance or at what point he enters the body of the person he is bewitching, there is no one who knows. However the place where he comes out is the forefinger. This fact is of great importance for the cure of people who have been bewitched and also for the punishment of sorcerers. Although the power of the sorcerer is great, yet there are some things which he fears, usually strong people who are bold and have no faith in the powers of sorcerers and other things that terrify other people. Therefore it is not rare that, after the first or second time he cures a person of this disease, some man receives the title of "witch-doctor." I once heard someone who had seen the cure of a bewitched person tell the story. The narrator had a neighbor who had a young daughter. This young lady had many suitors, and one of them was suspected of being a sorcerer. He had the bad fortune to be one of those who were not accepted. In his great anger he bewitched, one after the other, the betrothed man and woman. He began with the woman, and her parents at once called in a witch-doctor for her. When the doctor arrived and saw the patient, he said that the woman was really bewitched. He told the people who were there not to let the bewitched person know that he was in the house. If the patient knew this, the sorcerer who was inside her body would have a chance to go away at once. The doctor went up to the woman without her being aware of it and suddenly seized her two forefingers in a tight grip. She shouted all the louder and trembled like one in terror. The sorcerer, according to people's belief, feels any pain that is given to the body of the person he is bewitching while he is within the latter's body. Likewise, when one speaks with the patient, it is he who answers. Therefore the doctor suddenly asked: "What are you doing here, you brute?" The patient did not utter a word, but tried to get free. The strength she displayed was not the usual strength of a woman. But the doctor did not let her go, and asked her again: "What are you doing here? Why have you come here? If you do not answer, I shall torture you." The woman answered in a pitiful tone: "No, sir, I shan't do it again; let me go, sir; you are torturing me already." "Shall I let you go?" asked the doctor at once. "Promise me first that you won't come back." "No, I shan't come back, sir," answered the woman. "If I catch you here again, I shall kill you. Don't be troublesome. Stay still in your house." "Yes, sir; yes, sir; I shan't come back, sir. Please, let me go!" While this dialogue was taking place, the woman was struggling to get loose and trying to make the doctor let go of her forefingers. When the woman had made her promise, the doctor let go of her two forefingers. The face of the woman, which just before had been expressing great suffering, now became quiet, and she was like a madwoman who has got back her reason. She became quiet, stopped shouting, and was able to converse intelligently. The man lived in a near-by town. When he was bewitched his brother called a physician for him. In his extreme anger, this brother called a physician who was fierce and cruel in his treatment of sorcerers. The physician came secretly to the sick man's house. From his hiding-place he first determined at what time the sorcerer was in the body of the sick man. This showed itself in the shouting, movements, and senseless talking of the patient. The physician sharpened a bolo-knife and, when he had done this, quickly ran to the side of the patient. He then seized the latter's two forefingers, leaned over his body, and cut several deep gashes in his face. The patient screamed and tried to get away, but when he did get away there were wounds in his face and the blood was flowing in a stream. The physician left him without a word. He sought out the brother of the wounded man and told him not to heed his brother's wounds, for tomorrow they would go away and be transferred to the sorcerer, for it was the latter whom he had reached in the body of his brother. On the next day the doctor went to the man whom he had cured with the knife and was much pleased when he found him well and without the marks of wounds in his face. A few days later they heard that a sorcerer in the neighboring town was in a serious condition, owing to the unceasing flow of blood from some wounds in his face. There are also, however, some sorcerers who are quick and have not been caught by physicians. The physician, too, must be skilful and quick. Anyone at all can cure a person who has been bewitched, since there is no other method of cure than that of inflicting pain on the body of the bewitched person. The danger, however, is great, since, if the one who is attempting the cure is not quick, owing to lack of practice, the sorcerer will be able to get away. In this event it is the bewitched person himself who will suffer from the punishment. It is related that there once happened something like this which follows. One of two brothers was bewitched by his rival in courtship. There was no witch-doctor within call. In his great pity for him, the older brother decided to cure him, even though he had had no practice. He was not practised, to be sure, but he had often heard from physicians the manner of cure. One evening, when he thought that the sorcerer was inside his brother's body, he quickly seized a bolo, and, stepping up to his brother, cut him without care. On the next day, instead of his finding his brother well and unwounded, the latter was a corpse. The sorcerer had got away. 12. THE GAME OF FOOTBALL IN THE PHILIPPINES. The games of football in the United States and in the Philippines are very different. Instead of the players belonging to two contending sides, as in American football, in "sipa" the players form but one party. In sipa the aim of the players is not to defeat an opponent, but to prevent the ball or sipa from falling to the ground. The ball used is also very different. It is made of split rattan woven into the shape of a sphere. The inside is hollow and the eyes of the weave are large. Therefore the sipa, unlike the ball used in baseball, is light. The number of players is from two to twenty. When they are many, they stand in a circle. To begin the game, one of the party throws the sipa ball up into the air and toward one of the players, usually toward one opposite him. The one to whom the ball is tossed returns it to the one who threw it to him, not with his hand, but with his foot. When the players are skilful, they direct the ball to each one of the party, so that each one of them is alert and ready for the coming of the ball. Each one is careful not to let the ball fall to the ground. Often the players display various manners of sending the ball. The graceful bendings of the legs forward and backward, the quick and light leaps, the gentle and light kicking of the ball, and the sending of the ball in every possible direction, are features which give beauty to the game of sipa. Sometimes the shoulder, the elbow, the knee, or the hand is used in returning the ball. How is there any contest in this game? This can consist only in the test of endurance in keeping the ball from falling to the ground. When, for instance, one team of football-players or siperos wants to contend with another team, the former challenges whatever team it has picked out. If the challenge is accepted, the day, hour, and place of the game are at once announced in the newspapers. At the time of the game thousands of people look on. The challenging party usually hires a band of musicians, and each team is played for during its innings. Usually there are two bands, for, if the challenged party has any pride, it wants to show it and so brings its own band. After the game the judge announces to the spectators which team has won. When the announcement of the judge has been heard, there begins at once the yelling and the honoring of the victorious team. The winning team and their friends and followers, accompanied by the music of their band, at once begin to parade through the places near to the field of the game. On the next day the whole story appears in the newspapers. Such games of sipa as these are not common in the little towns in the provinces, but only in the large cities, such as Manila. 13. THE PRIEST PATUPAT. In the last years of the Spanish time there dwelt in the town of San Miguel a certain man. This man was educated and was intelligent enough to understand the evil ways of the priests, who were really little kings in their towns. In San Miguel the priest who had the parish was a violent and hot-headed man. The people called him "Patupat." One Sunday the man above mentioned went to church to hear the sermon of the priest. As this priest thought that the people to whom he was preaching were uneducated people, he took no pains to speak Tagalog correctly. His speech had neither beginning nor end and was mixed up like rice-pudding. Moreover, what he preached about was never other than Hell, Purgatory, what brutes the people of the town were, and the End of the World. When the sermon began, our friend Francisco entered the church. As usual, the priest began his sermon with this utterance: "Brezren and faylow-Christiannes!" Although he had been for almost forty years now in the Tagalog country, he had not yet learned to say correctly "Brethren and fellow-Christians." Francisco stood in a place near the pulpit and listened carefully to the sermon, which on that day contained nothing except what had already been a thousand times repeated by the priest, namely about the sufferings in Hell and Purgatory, the offering of candles and the giving of money to the church in order to escape from these sufferings. Francisco was filled with great anger, for he saw that the priest was fooling his people and had no other aim than to frighten the townspeople so that they should enrich the church and priests. After the sermon Kiko did not go home as usual, but waited until mass was over. After mass he staid in the church until he was alone. He took some pieces of paper and wrote to the priest as follows: "Father, I heard your sermon this morning. It is apparent to me that you believe that there is a Hell and that there is a Purgatory. I do not believe in these things. Next Sunday, if you wish, you may prove to the people in your sermon that there is a Hell and a Purgatory. When you are done, I shall try to prove to them that there is no Hell and no Purgatory. If the people believe you, I do not mind if you have me hanged for my defeat and my unbelief, but, if I am the victor, all I ask of you is to allow me to say to the people at large that there is neither a Hell nor a Purgatory." Several copies of this letter he pasted to the walls of the church, and one he sent to the priest. When Patupat read it, his blood boiled and his anger knew no bounds. He had the gendarmes called, and on the evening of that very Sunday he had all the houses in the town entered and searched, so as to catch Kiko. But they did not catch Kiko. That same afternoon Kiko told some of his intimate friends what he had done, and they were all astonished. They asked him why he had done this thing and whether he could not see what would happen to him. One of them spoke thus: "Pack up some clothes and go away right now, if you don't want to be caught by Patupat's soldiers and shot tomorrow." Kiko refused to follow his advice, because he thought that Patupat would accept his challenge about showing the people that there was neither a Hell nor a Purgatory and that these things were merely a device of the priests for getting money. Therefore he allowed himself to be overtaken by night in the house of a friend of his. Not until it was dark and the town was upset with the searchings of the gendarmes did he recognize the great danger which he was incurring. Since he had heard of this at once, he had time to hide in a secret corner of his friend's house. When the house-searchings were over, he went out from his hiding place, went home, wrapped up some clothes, had a wagon hitched up, and, taking some rifle-bullets, shouldered his gun, got into the wagon, and had himself driven out of town. After a few days he went to the mountains together with several townsmen who could not stay in the town because they had incurred the anger of the priest or of some other Spanish official of the town. There, in his stay in the mountains, he was overtaken by the revolution against the Spaniards in the year 1886. 14. MARIANO AND THE PRIEST PATUPAT. Mariano was one of the very few apothecaries in the town of San Miguel. He was one of the people who fell into misfortune through disobeying the orders of the priest Patupat. He had a family; beside his wife he had two children, one two years old and one new-born. One day his servant fell sick. He had a brother-in-law who was a doctor, so he had him treat the servant without charge, and he gave the servant medicine without charge. After some days the servant got well and decided to rest for a while in the country. Accordingly he paid his debt and took his leave of Mariano for a stay in the country. His stay in the country did not last long, before he fell sick anew, and the end was his death. In the Philippines in those days it was not allowable to bury a dead person without first having him blessed by a priest. The priests did not allow this, but they did not much mind the living together of a man and woman not married, for the reason that they did this themselves. The deceased servant of Mariano was very poor and his relatives also were poor and had not the means to pay the price demanded by Patupat. Thus there was no one to see to the burial of the servant's body. When Patupat learned this, he had Mariano called and said that it was his place to have the dead man buried and to pay the costs. In Mariano's opinion Patupat's insolence was getting beyond bounds. Therefore he said that he would not pay him for the burying of the dead man, no matter what happened. Patupat boiled with rage. He had the dead man buried and on the same day went to court and sued Mariano for the cost of blessing the dead man. When the session of the court came, Mariano was present, and when the judge asked what he had to say to this accusation, he spoke as follows: "Your Honor, this man who died was no longer in my care, for he was no longer my servant when he died. When he was still sick, I had him treated without charge and gave him medicine without charge. I have done my duty to my fellow-man and the duty placed upon me by the Lord. One of the duties of the priests is to provide burial for the dead. Now this man is dead, why cannot this priest do his duty without receiving pay, since even this would not happen, if the relatives of the deceased had means?" After asking some further questions of the priest and of Mariano, the judge closed the hearing and announced that Mariano was in the right and that the priest would have to put up with having blessed the dead man without payment. When this had happened Patupat's wrath against Mariano greatly increased, and after a few days he again entered a charge against Mariano. This time he made a different accusation. He complained to the court that Mariano was a Mason, because he did not come to church, did not confess, and did not kiss the priest's hand. The Masons are enemies of the Catholic Church and, in consequence, were enemies also of the government in the Philippines in those days; and therefore he suggested that Mariano be deported. When Mariano heard of this accusation of Patupat, he decided that his only hope was to hide or to escape from those who were to arrest him. Accordingly what he did was to go down to Manila, and there he hid. But even there he was caught by the gendarmes. Together with seven or eight men from various towns he was put into a steamboat and they were taken to the southern part of the Philippine Islands. And when they arrived there some of their number were shot by the soldiers who accompanied them, for this was ordered by the officials who sent these men into banishment. However, Mariano was not one of those who were shot. He staid there until, after the victory of the Americans, he was given the liberty of returning to his family. When he came back to the latter, his one child was seven years old and the second, five. 15. THE STORY OF THE CHINESE CARPENTER. Juan was a carpenter who had for neighbor a Chinaman who also was a carpenter. This Chinaman was a skilled carpenter and his cleverness showed itself in his skilful use of the plane. One day he bought a piece of wood forty feet in length. This he proceeded to smoothe. He tried to see if he could obtain shavings without a break for the whole length of the wood. What with the excellence of his tools and his skill at carpentry, this feat went off as if there was nothing to it. Every time he pushed his plane he obtained a shaving without a break, forty feet in length. In order to show this his skill to his neighbor, the Tagalog carpenter, he sent him one shaving every day. The Tagalog carpenter, Juan, marvelled at the skill of the Chinaman. In order to make return for the shavings he had received, he too tried to use the plane and to send the shavings to the Chinaman. However, the longest shavings he succeeded in getting were only fifteen feet. These it would have been humiliating to send to the Chinaman. Juan was skilled in the use of the daras, and he was able to smoothe boards by the use of the daras alone. Any piece of wood which he had chopped smooth with the daras did not require the use of the plane; but the pieces he chopped off were only short splinters, not suited to show his skill, and he could not send them to the Chinaman. While Juan did not know what to do, the Chinaman did not stop sending long shavings. Juan was filled with anger. He took his daras and went over to the Chinaman's. The latter was surprised and frightened when he saw Juan. The latter said: "What do you mean to say by sending me those shavings? You are offensive to me and you shall pay for it. I am going to cut your hair with this daras." The Chinaman was frightened, for he knew that if that daras struck his head, he would surely not survive. He tried to escape, but Juan seized him, tied him to a bench, and began to use the daras on the Chinaman's head. The daras is a large tool, the size of a pick, and heavy, but in Juan's skilful hand it was like a mere pair of scissors. The descent of the daras on the Chinaman's head was very gentle, and only the hair was cut by the edge. The Chinaman in his fright shouted and said: "Wapelo! Come helpee me, Juan bad man, not Chlistian!" This was heard by the neighbors and passers-by. Accordingly they came into the Chinaman's workshop, but there Juan said to them: "Don't you mix in here! I am not hurting this Chinaman. I am just cutting his hair." And he kept on with his chopping. When the Chinaman's hair was completely cut, the onlookers were greatly astonished, for the Chinaman's hair was as if cut by the shears of a skilful barber. The Chinaman too, when he saw in the looking-glass that his head was unhurt, was greatly astonished and did not stop praising Juan's skill in the use of the daras. 16. A MAN WHO HAD THE POWER OF A DEER. In a certain town in the Philippine Islands there once became celebrated the name of a certain man, both among his fellow-townsmen and the people of the neighboring towns, on account of his unusual strength in running and jumping. He was not a proud man, but he had some astuteness in money matters and also some courage. He did not let his rare good fortune make him proud, nor did he lie about the source of his unusual strength. He told those who were curious that the source of his strength was the power of the deer which he had made his own. He did not tell how this power had come into his possession, but he was not stingy about doing favors by helping with his strength both friends and strangers. Like most people, he wanted to get rich, and it was toward this end that he used his strength. He often entered into races, and these races were always means of winning much money. He always made large bets. He refused no one that wanted to race with him. Sometimes he ran races with people, sometimes with horses, with dogs, and with other animals that are fast at running. After a few days the money he had won in bets made up a large sum. His friends also, who had bet on him, got much money. When people came to know that he had the power of a deer, they did not want to run against him. Therefore, so as not to stop winning and making money, he gave large handicaps to his opponents. The handicaps which he gave were so great that many people contended with him. Still he always came out the winner. In jumping-matches also he was always victorious. However, though the advantages which he gained through this power were great, yet there were also some disadvantages which he obtained through it. On account of these disadvantages he did not manage to keep this power as his own through all his life. Through this power he had become very nervous. The sounds of falling bodies, noises, and the barking of dogs at night, did not allow him to sleep. These noises often made him start up with a jump from his sleep. Especially when the barking of a dog, for instance, woke him up, he jumped high up from his bed, and before he recovered his wits he was running at full speed. He could exercise no care about his involuntary jumping up and usually went way up to the ceiling, and, since this was low, his body got full of bruises and his head full of bumps from striking against the ceiling. Likewise in his unintentional running whenever he woke up with a start, his whole body got knocked again and again against the walls of his house. This was hard to bear, and he thought that he should not live long, what with not sleeping of nights. Therefore he decided to get rid of this power in a few days. When the seventh day of his possession of the power came, he was very sore and thought he should die of soreness. His head was covered with bumps. His face was full of black and blue marks, and though he had broken no bones, his muscles were badly bruised. Therefore, without saying a word, he went to a forest and there abandoned the power which he had got hold of, seeing that he had already won much money. 17. THE PET MONKEY. Andrés had a pet monkey which he prized very highly, because this monkey gave him much service. At night the monkey spread out his sleeping-mat for him; in the morning it handed him his water for washing, and whatever order he gave was obeyed by the monkey. Every night this monkey slept underneath the bedstead on which its master slept. This was not pleasing to the latter, for owing to its great value, Andrés wanted to give it a good place to sleep in. However, no matter what efforts Andrés made to force it, his pet monkey could not be brought to sleep in any other place. Andrés was a man who feared and loved God. Therefore, every night, before he went to sleep, he made the Sign of the Cross and called upon God. At his bed-time every night he found that his monkey was already under his bedstead. Not once did he get ahead of the monkey in going to bed. One day the priest of the town visited Andrés in his house. After some time had elapsed in conversation, Andrés told the priest that he had a pet monkey which was very useful, because it served him well and obeyed his every command, and he also said that this monkey was more diligent than his other servants. The priest was much surprised and asked that the monkey be shown to him. So Andrés called the monkey. Usually the monkey came at once at a single call by Andrés, but on this occasion it did not appear even when he had called ten times. Andrés got angry, arose, and looked for the monkey in the nooks and corners of the house. He found it in a corner, clinging tightly to a post. He called it and tried to get it out of the corner, but the monkey would not come away, no matter what Andrés did to it. Therefore he called the priest to look at his pet monkey there in the corner. At the approach of the priest the monkey trembled with fear. The priest conceived the suspicion that this monkey was an evil spirit. So he made the Sign of the Cross, and blessing a little water, sprinkled it over the monkey. When the water struck the latter's body, there was a report like that of a gun, and in the place of the monkey they saw only some smoke, which soon disappeared. Thereupon the priest questioned Andrés concerning his faith in God. Andrés said that his firm faith had not changed and that he prayed every night before going to sleep. The priest then asked where the monkey used to sleep. Andrés answered that it slept every night under his bedstead. Thereupon the priest informed him that this monkey was an evil spirit which had been lying in wait for him, and that if he had ever failed to call upon God before he went to sleep, on that very night the evil spirit would have thrown him into Hell. 18. THE OLD MAN OF THE ANT-HILL BY LIGHT OF DAY. Pedro was a brave man. He had often heard stories about vampires, dwarves, sorcerers, and old men of the ant-hill, but what made Pedro wonder was why he had never chanced to meet even a single one of these creatures. He wanted to get a sight of at least one of them, so that he might know whether it was true that they had powers not common to most persons. One night he walked about in a dark and haunted place, because he had heard that many people had there seen an old man of the ant-hill. The cigar of such an old man is of terrifying size, and when he draws at it, the light given forth is like the light of a bonfire. On this night he had gone some distance on his ramble, when he saw a flare of light. His hair stood on end and he thought of going back, but he overcame his fear and continued on his walk. He was met by the smoker. When he approached, Pedro examined the old man's figure, but as he did not succeed in gratifying his curiosity, he was taken with the desire of seeing the old man by daylight. To bring this about, he would have to hold the old man fast, for these spirits return to their abode in Hell or some other place of the kind as soon as morning comes. Therefore what he did was suddenly to seize hold of the old man. The latter began to wrestle with him. Sometimes Pedro was below, sometimes he was on top, but he did not let go of the old man. He held him as tightly as possible and made up his mind that he would follow no matter where the old man bore him, should the latter prove stronger than he. They wrestled till three o'clock. By this time Pedro was as tired as can be and ready to sink to the ground, but he did not let go of his fellow-wrestler. When four o'clock came his opponent ceased to move. When another half hour had passed, the rays of the sun began to fall upon them, but it was not yet light enough for Pedro to make out what sort of thing it was he had hold of. When five o'clock came, he was greatly surprised to see that he was embracing a post which was not much higher than he. It was, however, firmly fixed in the ground and completely charred. 19. JUAN'S GOBLIN. One night Juan while rambling about, crossed a river. While he was still on the bank and just walking on the sandy beach, he felt some sand being showered on his back. He thought he would watch for the person who was throwing sand on him and catch him, so, while walking, he kept turning suddenly right about at short intervals, but he saw nothing. This frightened him a little, and he began to wonder if he was not perhaps dealing with some old man of the ant-hill or some goblin. Therefore he hastened his running, but the faster he went, the more frequent grew the striking of sand on his back. His fear increased and he returned home running with all his might. When he got there he was out of breath and unable to speak. It was only when he had rested a while that he was able to answer the many questions of his father and the other members of the household. He told his father that he had been pursued by dwarves on his walk and showered with sand. His father asked him where the scene of this was, and he said on the bank of the river. His father burst into peals of laughter and said that these were no dwarves, but only his own feet, which sent the sand up on his back at every stride he made. But Juan refused to believe this, and for several days he did not leave the house. His father therefore wanted to show him the truth of what he had said, so one night he told Juan to go for a walk to that same place, and he would accompany him. Juan consented and they both went to the river-bank. When they got there, Juan's father dropped behind. When Juan walked on the sandy beach and felt the sprinkling of sand on his back, he was again filled with terror and shouted to his father that they were already starting to throw sand on his back. He made Juan come back and walk on again. This time he followed at his back. Accordingly Juan's father saw that every time Juan took a step, the sandals he was wearing carried along some sand, and when he raised his foot the sand thus carried along was sprinkled on his back. His father now had him take off the sandals he was wearing and made him walk on again. This time, no matter how much ground Juan walked over, he felt no scattering of sand on his back. From this time on he had no more fear of old men, dwarves, vampires, and other spooks. 20. JUAN THE SUITOR. Young Maria was famed for beauty in her district. She had no suitors, however, except only Juan. But Maria's father had a great dislike for Juan. Juan could converse with the girl he was courting only in secret, for when Maria's father knew of it, he would punish them both with his stick. Sometimes, when the father's anger was great, he used a club on Juan, so that he was in danger of getting his bones broken whenever they were caught talking together. One dark night Maria's father had gone out. When Juan found this out, he went to Maria's to talk with her. They forgot themselves in their conversation, and so were surprised by Maria's father on his return. He was at once filled with anger and in a loud voice addressed Juan: "What do you want, you brute? I've told you not to set foot in my house here. What do you mean by coming here?" And when he had said this he seized a bamboo cane and made ready to give Juan a caning. In his terror the latter jumped out of the window, but he was followed by the father. So he took to running with all his might. The night was dark as coal and he could not make out which way to go, but he kept running nevertheless. He fell on his face again and again as he ran, but he got up quickly and kept on running. It was not long before he came upon a large black object. He recognized it as a carabao, so he leaped quickly on its back and made it run. Riding on a carabao is not very difficult, owing to the breadth of its back and the slowness of its pace. Therefore, even though he had no reins, Juan was not afraid to ride. Owing to the darkness of the night it happened that in his mounting he faced the tail-end of the carabao and not the head. He urged on the carabao. Now it happened that this carabao was owned by Maria's father. It was not long before Juan saw a lighted house in the direction toward which the carabao was going. He confidently expected that this house was his neighbor's. Therefore he got down from the carabao and went up into the house on the run. Great was his surprise and terror when, upon entering, he was met by Maria's father and beaten all over his body and addressed: "What have you come back for? Haven't I got rid of you yet, you shameless rascal?" When Juan came to himself he jumped from the porch and ran toward home, but this time he did not ride on anything. 21. MARIA THE MISER. When Maria was still alive, she lived in her pleasant house in the middle of wide grounds with beautiful gardens and trees. As she was very rich, her life was one constant pleasure. She had not reached the age of forty years, when she died. All her wealth she divided between her sister and the church. She did not remember the poor acquaintances and those of her neighbors who were poor. The sister who was left had a series of masses said during the seven days after death, so that Maria's soul might be admitted by Saint Peter at the gates of heaven. When her sister Maria was still alive, she was known far and wide for her avarice. She herself rarely had masses said or made offerings of candles. When beggars asking for alms called on her, she had them driven away and gave them no alms. Often also she had them chased with dogs. She forced her peons to work without pay, and when she gave them rations it was without meat or vegetables,--only boiled rice with salt. To propitiate her, her peons, whenever they went home, brought chickens, eggs, young pigs, and vegetables or fruits to give to Maria. They did not make these presents for love of Maria, but as a kind of bribe, so that they might not be too harshly treated during their stay in her house. But when Maria went to the country to her workmen, she appropriated without saying a word and without paying for it, everything she saw in their house that took her fancy. When, for instance, she saw at her workmen's a new basket, tray, sieve, sack, mat, pot, cup, dipper, brazier, or other household utensil, she took it and carried it off to her house. When she could not make use of the things she had taken, she sold them. She acted in the same way about animals that belonged to her servants. In this way she had quickly grown rich. When she had been dead about three days, her sister was at her house, spending the period of mourning. One evening, when she was walking in the garden she came to the side of a well that was in the yard. She was surprised, for from the depth of the well she heard someone calling her name. She turned her head toward the well and there she again clearly heard the calling, although she could see nobody whatever. The voice said: "My sister, I am Maria. I am paying now for my life of avarice, selfishness and cruelty. I am here in the Lord's place of punishment for all sinners. If it may be, do not follow my example, but seek some means to save me from the boiling oil here which is now my place of dwelling." Her sister was much grieved then and went at once to the priest to ask to what means she could resort to rescue her sister from Hell. The priest advised her to go to a certain town where there was a wonder-working image of Saint Peter. This image of Saint Peter talked with people and advised various means of getting into Heaven. This was its miracle. Maria's sister went immediately to the town where stood the miraculous Saint Peter. When she got there and talked with Saint Peter, she told him the whole story. She said that her sister had told her that her avarice, selfishness, and cruelty had caused her to be thrown into Hell. "In that case," said Saint Peter, "find you but one single person, animal, or plant that was the object of an act of kindness on the part of your sister. When you have managed to find it, come back to me, and I shall give you a means to rescue your sister from damnation." Maria's sister went home to their town at once and there she inquired of all the townspeople which of them owed any debt of gratitude to her sister, or which of them had been well treated or kindly spoken to by her. But not one of them was able to answer. The animals also of the neighbors and on Maria's own grounds were interrogated by her, but here she found none that had been done a kindness by her sister. One dog, a creature of skin and bones, said to her: "One afternoon I was very hungry. I found a bone in her yard. I seized it and was carrying it off, when she saw me. She had me chased at once, and when I dropped the bone she had it buried in the ground. Was that an act of kindness?" The grief of Maria's sister became much greater, and her hope of rescuing her sister from damnation was gradually failing. She began to question the plants in her sister's yard. She took one by one all the gourds, pumpkins, cucumbers, chile peppers, melons, sincamas, peanuts, egg-plants, cow-peas, and onions and garlic, and other vegetables. She did not find among them that which she sought. She also went through the trees. She made inquiry, one after the other, of the chico, anona, custard-apple, mabolo, grape-fruit, orange, lime, and casoy trees. But here too her labor gave no result; only the group of the garden-plants she had not yet questioned, and if here she did not find what she sought, there would be nothing for her to do about the punishment her sister was undergoing. She went to them all, but there were not any who could say that they had received any kindness from Maria. At the very last the sister went to the side of the well, and there she questioned all the blades of grass. When night came there was only one head of grass which she had not yet questioned. Full of fear and hope she approached it. She asked the head of grass which grew by the side of the well: "When my sister was alive, did she ever do you an act of kindness?" "Oh, your sister?" answered the grass, "Yes, it was she who gave me new life. Last summer my blades were all withered and I was near to dying, but your sister bathed one evening by the side of this well. As she bathed, some water was sprinkled on me, so that I grew again and my withered blades became fresh once more." Maria's sister could not contain the joy which arose in her, and that very night she returned to Saint Peter. Saint Peter gave her a rosary and told her to go home and to hang this rosary down into the well. She was to call Maria and let her take hold of the rosary; by this means her sister could be rescued from damnation. She went home at once, and hardly was the sun shining, when she came to the yard of the deceased Maria. She approached the well, let down the rosary, and called her sister. Maria emerged from under the water and took hold of the rosary. Her sister began to pull at the rosary and she was slowly lifted up. As she was thus being rescued, some other souls too wanted to escape from Hell. So they all took hold of Maria's feet, when they saw that she was being rescued from damnation. But when only Maria's feet were still under water, she shook her two feet, so that the souls who had hold of her should have to let go. When she did this the rosary broke and she at once fell into the well, and from that time on her sister was never again able to communicate with her. The sister went back to Saint Peter and told him what had happened, but Saint Peter said that there was no longer anything that they could do to save her sister from Hell. 22. THREE SOULS WHO CALLED UPON SAINT PETER. Juan was a gay bachelor. But when he reached the age of twenty-two he fell very sick and it was not long before he died. His soul went to Heaven and knocked at its gate. Saint Peter answered his knock and asked: "Who are you? What brings you here?" Juan's soul answered: "I am Juan's soul. Open the door, for I want to come in." The door-keeper opened the gate, but before he allowed Juan's soul to enter, he questioned him as follows: "Why have you come here? What acts of piety have you performed on earth that you think you are entitled to the joys of Heaven? Have you left a wife behind you?" Juan's soul said: "When I was still on earth I often went to church, prayed, and gave alms, but I did not have the good fortune to get married." The door-keeper answered: "You are not fit to partake of the joys of Heaven." And when he had said this he closed the door. Juan's soul was not able to enter Heaven. When Juan had gone away, another soul arrived. "Who are you? And why do you wish to come into Heaven? Did you get married when you were still on earth?" asked the door-keeper. The soul answered: "I am the soul of Andrés. I took a wife when I was yet on earth. Open the gate for I want to come in." At once Saint Peter opened the gate of Heaven, and when he saw the soul of Andrés he said: "Oh, pitiable soul! For such as you the joys of Heaven are reserved and fitting. Enter!" The soul of Andrés was overjoyed and entered the abode of bliss. When the door was closed there was another knock. "Who are you?" the keeper asked again. "I am the soul of Mariano," answered the one who had knocked. "Why have you come here? Why do you think that you deserve to partake of Heaven? Did you get married when you were still on earth?" To these questions the soul of Mariano answered: "When I was still on earth I often had masses said. Half of my wealth I gave to the Church for the saying of masses and the ringing of bells. The candles I offered up could not be drawn by three carabao, and as to getting married," continued the soul, "I was married twice. I became a widower and married again." "I am very sorry that I am not able to let you in. There is no place for madmen like you in the Kingdom of Heaven." And he closed the door. 23. JUAN THE CANOER. One day a Spaniard was having Juan ferry him across the river in his canoe. The Spaniard, Juan's fare, was able to speak Tagalog. Accordingly, while they were still far from shore, he began a conversation with Juan. This Spaniard was a learned man, no doubt a famous scholar in Spain, and this showed itself in his discourse to Juan regarding geography, arithmetic, and various languages of Europe. When his discourse was ended, he asked Juan: "Have you studied geography?" "No, sir," answered Juan,--and in truth, Juan had no education, for he had grown up in poverty, so that his life at all times was nothing but ceaseless work. The Spaniard was astonished at Juan's answer and said at once: "I am sorry, friend, that you do not know geography, for in consequence half your life, as it were, is lost." Juan did not utter a word, and kept on paddling. It was not long before the Spaniard again asked: "Have you studied arithmetic?" "No, sir," answered Juan. "If that is the case, friend, a fourth of your life is lost to you, as it were." Juan became a little frightened, for he could not make out what the Spaniard was trying to say. He said to himself: "You poor fellow, Juan, only a fourth of your life is left now." When their canoe had got to a deep part of the river, and while the Spaniard was reflecting upon the great ignorance of the working people in the Philippines, Juan asked his passenger this question: "Do you know how to swim, sir?" "No," answered the Spaniard at once. "In that case," answered Juan, "you have lost your whole life, not only as it were, but you have lost it in all truth." And while he spoke these words he tipped over the canoe they were riding in. Juan swam to the shore, but the Spaniard was carried away by the stream. 24. KINDNESS TO ANIMALS. One dark night Juan was walking in some forests far from any towns. He was on his way to his home town. Before he could arrive there, he had to pass through some uncanny places. One night, when he was walking in such a place, he was suddenly startled by the arrival of a black cat which purred and scratched at his leg. What he did was to kick the cat with all his might, and it was tossed a good distance. He kept on walking, but it was not long before the cat came back to him. His anger greatly increased, and he kicked the cat again. He thought that this cat was the plaything of some goblin or vampire. He kept on walking. It was not long before the black cat again came back to him. This time, instead of kicking the cat, he took hold of it, lifted it up on his arm, stroked it and patted it, and said to it: "Good little cat, what do you want? Are you going to come along with me on my journey?" and he continued walking. After a while he was attacked by sleepiness. He saw a house by the way, but the people in his town believed that this house was enchanted. However, Juan had no other place to sleep, so he entered the house to sleep there. He fell sound asleep, but at midnight he was awakened by the pattering of rats. He set about kicking and striking at the rats to kill them or drive them away. But the rats became more and more numerous until the room became full and they bit him and gnawed at him. It was then that Juan took his black cat and told it to kill the rats. The cat miewed and began to chase the rats. Great fear seized the rats, and those that were not killed by the cat ran to their holes. When Juan saw that there were no rats left except only a single pair, he stopped the cat. He caught the two rats and petted them and decided to take them along on his journey, just like the cat. On the next day he continued his journey. He was overtaken by night in a place where there were no houses, so he walked on toward a house owned by a certain old man. Now it happened that this old man was an enchanter. He took Juan in and gave him an alcove to sleep in. Juan went to sleep without suspecting anything. However, when he woke up on the next day, he was surprised and frightened when he saw that he was locked up in a box without any opening. He kicked at the walls of the box, but was not able to do anything: he could not open it. Great was his despair, and he did not know what to do, when he remembered that he had a cat and two rats with him in his prison. He took the two rats, petted them, and told them to make a hole in the box in which they were confined. The rats began to gnaw at the boards, and gradually they succeeded in making a hole in the thick board, until it was pierced through. When they had pierced it, they returned to Juan, and Juan had them again pierce the wall of the prison. When they had made holes again and again, they finally succeeded in making a large opening, and Juan was able to escape. Juan looked for the old man, but did not find him anywhere. So he continued on his way home, and when he arrived there, he told of the great service which had been done him by his three friends, a cat and two rats. 25. JUAN THE SCULPTOR. I once read, in a Spanish novel entitled La tumba de hierro, the following story: Juan was a child of five years, the son of a workman of the wealthy Andrés. Juan was dumb from birth, but not deaf. Moreover, his dumbness was not complete, for often he was able to cry out, though his voice was not like that of a normal child. One evening Andrés visited the house of his workman, Juan's father, and on this visit he brought along his daughter, who also was five years old. In spite of his dumbness, Juan made friends with his master's child, and the two played together while their fathers were discussing matters of farming. He showed Maria (this was the name of his playmate) his toys, which he had made by his own hand and skill. His toys were all kinds of faces of people which he had made, and they were made of clay. There were also many whole figures of people in all kinds of positions. Some were planting, some were dancing, some were lying down, and there were also some wrestling, running, and in many other positions. He also had animals; some were made of clay and others were made of wood. The two children became good friends and were engrossed in play. When their fathers had finished their conversation, Andrés called Maria to go home, but Maria first asked her father to come to where Juan's toys were, so that he might see them. When Andrés beheld the toys, he was astonished at the great ability shown by the one who had shaped these manikins. Andrés told Juan's father that Juan was gifted and ought to be sent to school. But Juan's father answered that he had no money with which to let Juan study. "In that case," said Andrés, "I will pay the teacher. Tomorrow Maria's teacher is coming to our house. I shall have him go on here to you, to begin the teaching of Juan and the opening up of his mind." Juan's father thanked him profusely, and they parted. Juan was very sorry when his playmate left. From that day on Maria's father often sent for Juan that he might play with Maria there in his house. One afternoon when the two were playing in the garden in the wide grounds of Andrés, a butterfly came flying past the two children. They ran after it. Maria ran ahead and Juan followed. As they were running, Maria fell into a shallow pool which Andrés used as a fishpond. Juan gave a loud cry, and, as he cried out, a muscle in his throat broke and his mouth bled. He paid no attention to this and jumped into the pool to save Maria from drowning. As the pool was shallow, the two children did not drown, only Maria was filled with great fear, which caused her to faint while still in the water. So what Juan did was to take hold of Maria by her back and lift her up, so that she should not swallow any water,--he himself meanwhile being immersed. They were in this position when a servant of Andrés came upon them and rescued them from the pool. Great was the surprise of Andrés and great was the joy which came to Juan's father, when they heard Juan talk and tell them what had happened. What with Juan's talking, his progress in his studies became much greater and his friendship with Maria grew much stronger. There came the day when his teacher said that he ought to go to another town to continue his studies, for he could teach him nothing more. He told this also to Andrés. Andrés sent Juan to a school for sculptors, and there he studied for about six years. Juan and Maria grew up and their friendship turned into love. Every vacation Juan went home to their house on Andrés' estate, and there he passed the days at Maria's side. There came a day for the exhibition of the sculptures of the artists, and Juan had planned a design which he was going to carry out for that day. The victor among the contestants was to be given a prize that was to be accompanied by much money, in addition to a celebration in honor of the winner. For about a year Juan worked at his composition. The day for presenting the statues arrived. Juan, his father, Andrés, and Maria went to the building where the statues were. Many people were there, but they were all crowding round Juan's statue. Andrés did not know what to say in his admiration. The hour came when the judges announced who was the winner, and Juan's statue was that named as having won the prize. It was a group with a standing woman. Her left hand held a torch and her right a crown of leaves. At the right of the woman and under the crown of olive a youth was kneeling on his right foot. In his left hand he was holding a book, and in his right a hammer. At their feet lay scattered various implements of a student. On the way home the two lovers revealed their secret to their parents. Juan's father was merely grieved, for he knew that the marriage of the two was not possible, for their position was like that of a slave or thrall and a lord or king. When Andrés learned of the matter, he was filled with great anger. He had Juan called to him and scolded him. He told him he was shameless and did not know how to appreciate favors,--did not know how to repay the man who had given him his education, and told him that he could not marry Maria. Accordingly Juan at once went away without anyone's knowing his destination. Five or six years passed, and Juan at his sculpture did not forget Maria. Maria passed these six years in her house. She was sunk at all times in a deep grief, and it was always Juan of whom she was thinking. Maria fell seriously ill and was near to death. Her physician advised Andrés that, if he wanted to save his daughter, he would have to follow her desire regarding marriage to Juan. But when Andrés consented, it was already too late. Maria's sickness went from bad to worse, and he did not even know where Juan was. He sent many messengers to the large towns to look for Juan, but even when many days had passed, not one of them had succeeded in finding Juan. At last one of them came upon him in the town of Kamalig in his workshop. When he was told that he was being sent for by Andrés that he and Maria might be married, his joy was very great. But he was also much afraid that he might not find his loved one alive. He went home with all possible speed, and when he arrived at the house of Andrés, he found there the body of Maria, mere bone and skin, stretched out on her couch. That very moment Andrés sent for a priest, and Juan and Maria were married. While the marriage-ceremony was being performed by the priest, Maria's breath ceased. When they were married, Juan had but time to kiss his wife before her breath left her, her face glad and her mouth smiling. 26. MARQUITA. Marquita was a good and beautiful young woman, but poor. She was betrothed to a man who also was poor, but had a position with the Government in Manila and received good pay. Marquita had a rich neighbor. His house was of wood, with an iron roof, and his estate was large. This neighbor had a great liking for Marquita, but we cannot say whether his love was true, for he had a screw loose. He paid every attention to Marquita, but Marquita was not a girl of fickle heart and paid no heed to all his attentions. So great was the desire of this suitor to win Marquita that he decided to employ force. One afternoon he went into the yard of Marquita's family and hid in a banana-tree. It happened that on this afternoon Marquita's yard was dirty. Accordingly she went and swept the yard. When she came near the banana-tree in which the man was hiding, he suddenly dropped down, seized her by the hand and kissed her. As you know, among reputable people in our country a single kiss is a great stain on a girl's honor. Therefore, when Marquita came into the house weeping and her parents found out that she had been roughly handled or kissed by this man, they decided that there was no other way of covering up this disgrace than marrying their daughter Marquita to this man. No matter how much Marquita objected, and although they knew that she had a sweetheart, they nevertheless prepared for the marriage. Marquita was a daughter very obedient to her parents, so she could not actually disobey them now. All she did was to write her betrothed what had happened and what was going to happen and to tell him that her coming marriage was only an act of obedience to her parents, and that she loved only him. To her parents Marquita said that they would get no joy from her, for her marriage to the man whom she abhorred would soon be the death of her. They were married. It was not long before Marquita was stricken with fever. From the day of her marriage she was not able to eat anything, and she shed tears day and night. The skilful physicians of the town, all the wealth of her husband, and all the prayers of her parents, failed to save her from death. Seven days after her wedding she died. This caused much grief to her former betrothed and contributed to his misfortune in his later life. 27. THE IGNORANT PRIEST. To the town of Baliwag there was once assigned a priest who had no education whatever. The people surmised that he was only a grass-cutter in Spain, who had been cast hither by chance and assigned as priest to their town so that he might have some income and so be saved from dying of hunger. Every Sunday he said mass, but those who heard the mass could hear nothing from him, except only the word "Mass, mass, mass," and so on. He would walk round in front of the altar; at times he faced the people, brought his hands together, and, while making all these movements, he would keep saying his "Mass, mass, mass," and so on. The people got angry and reported him to the archbishop. The answer of the archbishop was that he would come some Sunday and hear the mass to see if their accusation was really true. The archbishop arrived. The priest told him that he was not able to perform mass, because the silly people all left the church as soon as he began mass. "Tomorrow," he added, "you will see how they all run away as soon as I give the blessing." The next day was Sunday and at his mass the archbishop was to be present. He planned a way of saving himself. Accordingly, before beginning the mass, he caused some oil to boil. While he was putting on his vestments the people and the archbishop were seated in the church. The archbishop was near the altar, and, while the priest was putting on his vestments, the oil was boiling. When he had put on his vestments, he poured the boiling oil into the vessel for holy water. It was his custom to give the blessing before saying mass, so, when he entered the church, he sprinkled the boiling oil on the people instead of holy-water. The people, struck by the drops of hot oil, all jumped up and ran with all their might out of the church. When the archbishop saw this, he did not have the mass gone on with on that day, for there was not a single one of the people left in the church. The archbishop said to the priest that he would not have to leave the town and that hereafter he would not heed any accusation that the people made. 28. THE CONFESSIONAL. Father Mundo was the priest assigned for some years to the town of Mariquina. He was a man who liked amusements. He was never deficient in the fulfilment of his duties. Every day he said mass, and on Sunday he said mass twice. Also, he christened children, said blessings over the dead, carried the sacrament, heard confession, and gave holy communion. He performed all his duties well, but the confessing he overdid a little. From his point of view this was perhaps useful in lessening the sins of those whom he confessed, but for some of the latter it had its bad side. Once there was a young woman who was fond of going to church and to confession. When this young woman reached the age of twenty years, she abandoned the pious duty of going to confession, and also went to church but rarely. Once when this woman was questioned, she spoke as follows: "At first I really thought that Father Mundo was a saint, but now the people realize that he is a horrid man. At flood-time, when the people are all canoeing on the flood, he rides along in the women's canoe, and not with the men. In the morning, after saying mass, he is seen squatting in his courtyard with his vestments trailing on the ground, petting fighting-cocks, in company with the other cock-fighters. "At first I often confessed to him, but there came a day when the things he asked me in the confessional were nothing but foolishness. Was it right for him to ask me how many suitors I had, whom I liked, and where I met them? What I thought was that this priest was extremely impudent. So I left him at once in the confessional, and since that time I have not been going to confession." 29. JUAN THE JOKER. Juan was a man given to doing nonsensical things, but he did not do them intentionally to anger his fellow-men; it was merely his natural habit, prompted by his character. Once he went to the festival of a certain town. He was carrying three young pigs to sell in the town. When he got there, he saw many people gathered in the courtyard of the church and listening to a speech which the mayor of the town was delivering. The people stood in a dense crowd, but he succeeded in getting close to the foot of the platform on which the orator was standing. While he took part in the crowding, the three pigs kept squealing. When he had arrived in front of the mayor, he held his hand over their mouths to make them keep quiet, but he did not succeed. The mayor took notice of the squealing of the pigs and looked round to see who had brought the pigs there. When he saw Juan he addressed him as follows: "Juan! What do you mean by making your pigs squeal here? Get out of here at once and never again dare to set foot on the ground of Bustos!" Juan departed and went home to his town of San Ildefonso. A year passed, and the festival in the town of Bustos came round again. Juan wanted to go there, but he remembered that the mayor of that town had threatened him that, if he were seen again on the ground of Bustos, he would have him imprisoned and tortured. Juan thought of a way of going there none the less. When the festival arrived, there was a high mass, which was attended by thousands of people. Juan was one of these people, and he it was whom all the people were watching, owing to the manner of his appearance there in the church. It was not long before one of the people who were watching him complained to the mayor, saying that Juan was in the church mounted on a wagon drawn by carabao, and that the whole thing, wagon, carabao, and Juan, was inside the church. Juan had not got down from the wagon on which he was standing. The mayor went to the church to arrest Juan. When he got there he said: "Juan! Follow me, I am going to imprison you. Didn't I tell you not to set foot on the ground of Bustos?" But Juan answered: "Mr. Mayor! You certainly did tell me that. That is why I cannot get out of my wagon. Do you see this earth, sir, with which my wagon is loaded and on which I am standing? This is not the ground of Bustos, sir, but earth of San Ildefonso. I got this earth in my town." When Juan had said this, the mayor could not restrain his laughter and only said to himself that he could do nothing to Juan, for the latter was in the right. 30. THE THREE THIEVES. Juan, Andrés, and Diego were three expert thieves. They were very famous, and many people were trying to catch them, but their cleverness at dodging and stealing kept them from being caught. The three once made an appointment to meet at a certain quiet and secret place to discuss their means of livelihood and new good methods of thievery. Not one of them had an honest trade. This had been their mode of life from childhood on, so they had become skilful and very clever at this activity. When the day of their meeting came, they were there already at dawn. Each one of them had much to tell, and, as they were all talking at once, their stories were indistinguishable. Juan asked of Diego: "How skilled are you now at your work?" "In my opinion," answered Diego, "I am the most skilful of us three, for I am able to steal the eggs a hen is brooding on without its knowing it. And not only this," he continued, "I am able to rob wild animals of their young without their noticing it." "Is that all your skill?" Andrés quickly interrupted, "I am able to rob animals and men too. I have stolen all of people's jewelry that I wanted to steal, whether the owner was asleep or up and about. Once I stole a ring that the owner was sleeping on to keep it from being stolen,--but I stole it without his noticing." "Is that all the skill you two have?" asked Juan. "The things you do don't come halfway up to my skill at stealing. I can steal people themselves, and not only their property." The two he was talking to were surprised, for they did not think that a live man could be stolen without his knowing it, and, to test Juan's ability, the two made a bet with Juan. They told him to steal the priest of the town and to bring him to the place where they now were. If he succeeded in doing this, Andrés and Diego would pay him five hundred pesos. But if he could not do it, he was to pay Andrés and Diego one hundred pesos. Juan agreed to this bet, and they parted. Juan went to the town and found out by inquiry where the priest lived. When he had found this out, he figured out the plan he would pursue in stealing the priest. He entered the priest's household as a servant. During his stay as a servant he became acquainted with the habits of the priest. One of his habits, from which he never deviated, was praying a rosary before the image of a saint. The image was made of wood, and it represented Saint John. The size of this image was equal to that of a man. Juan had a carver make an image just like this one, but with an opening, and hollow inside. This opening inside the body of the image of the saint was such that a man could enter it. When the image which Juan had had made was ready, he replaced with it the image of Saint John which belonged to the priest. One afternoon before prayers he took a rice-sack and went into the inside of the saint he had had made. When the priest had eaten supper he went into the room in which he prayed, to say a rosary. When he was halfway through his prayers, and just about as Juan was getting tired of standing up, the latter spoke: "Cease your praying, Father Lucas. I have been sent here to conduct you to Heaven." At first the priest was filled with fear, but then he thought that his saint was doing a miracle and was really calling for him in order to take him to Heaven. As he did not say anything, Juan again spoke as follows: "Many are the works of piety which you have done. You have been patient in living a lowly life, therefore all the joys of Heaven have been reserved for you. Come with me, and I shall conduct you." The priest answered: "How shall I manage to come with you? I am old and cannot walk from here on earth as far as Heaven." Juan answered: "Never you mind that, I have a bag here. Get into it and I will carry you on my way to Heaven." When he had said this, he spread out the rice-sack. When the priest had got into it, Juan tied the bag tightly. He got out from inside the image and carried Father Lucas on his shoulder toward the house where he had his appointment with his two friends. Father Lucas really believed that he was going to Heaven, and so he staid still in the sack. However, when Juan was wading through a shallow river, it occurred to him that he was being fooled and that they were not going to Heaven at all. Therefore he asked Juan: "What river is this, and why must we cross a river on the way to Heaven?" Juan answered: "Shhh! Don't make any noise! This is the river Jordan." The priest desisted from speaking. Juan kept on walking. When he was already going up into the house that was their place of meeting, the priest was again surprised and again asked: "What stairway is this? Is this the way the staircase of Heaven looks?" "I have told you already that you must not make any noise," answered Juan, "This is the stairway that leads to Heaven." When they had come up into the house, they were met by Diego and Andrés. Juan dropped his burden and said to them: "I have brought here what you told me to steal. Have you brought the five hundred pesos?" The other two did not believe him at once. So what they did was to make a hole in the bag and peep at the contents. In it they saw the head of the priest with the tonsure. Accordingly they handed Juan the five hundred pesos and they all quickly left the house. They abandoned the priest, leaving him to get free as best he could. 31. HOW MONKEYS ARE CAUGHT. In the jungle one not rarely meets with large herds of monkeys. When the one who comes into their haunts is unarmed, there is danger of their killing the man whom they overpower by their numbers. When angry, they climb down from the trees and all bite at the man who is in their power. Therefore a man who is going into jungles where there are many monkeys will not neglect to carry a gun. When the monkeys hear the noise of the gun, they are unafraid. Most of them do not run away, but look at the place where the noise and smoke come from. Those who are reached by a bullet try to ward it off with their hand, like one who is warding off a mere throw. Therefore, when they are shot, their palms too are pierced by the bullet. Not infrequently people catch live monkeys, so as to domesticate them and sell them to the various foreigners who come to the Philippines. The catching of live monkeys does not involve much labor, for the method of catching them is simply to trick them. When one wants to catch monkeys, one usually cooks or has cooked some sweetmeats, and into these one mixes or has mixed some balasing. Balasing is the seed of a plant which intoxicates or puts into a deep sleep the animals which eat it. It is used also in catching fish in rivers. When these sweetmeats have been cooked, the man carries them to where the herd of monkeys is. However, if he should place it carefully on the ground, the monkeys would not climb down to eat it. They suspect that these sweetmeats are only a bait for them, that they may be caught or killed. Therefore what the man does is to pretend that he is frightened and when he sees the monkeys, he starts running, carrying on his head the tray of drugged sweetmeats. While running he pretends to take a fall on his face, so that the sweetmeats he is carrying on his head fall down and are scattered over the ground. When this happens, he keeps on running just the same, and hides somewhere or other to watch the monkeys eat. When the monkeys see the man running away, and when he is hidden, they climb down from the trees and all start grabbing the sweetmeats. They all crowd on top of one another in their greed, and the noise is very great, for each herd of monkeys is about five hundred or a thousand strong. When they have eaten it is not long before they are attacked by sleepiness. They get weak and cannot climb into the trees. It is a laughable sight to see these monkeys, old and young, squatting on the ground and nodding, everyone of them. The ones who did not succeed in grabbing any sweetmeats climb up into the trees and look down at their drunken companions. When the monkeys are in this state, and not before, does the man who is hidden come up and take the sleeping monkeys one by one. The effect of the drug is not of long duration, and the monkeys get well after a few days. Another common way of catching monkeys is to use cocoanuts as bait. A hole is made in an unopened cocoanut. The size of this hole is just large enough for a monkey to put in his hand when it is not holding anything. Inside the cocoanut-shell is placed a piece of the meat of the cocoanut, and the whole thing is placed in a spot where there are monkeys. Monkeys like cocoanut, and when they see it, they grasp the meat that is inside the shell. But when they have hold of the cocoanut-meat, they can no longer take their hand out through the opening, but they will not let go of the cocoanut-meat. Consequently they are as though in stocks, and when the man who is catching them approaches, they cannot get away, for the cocoanuts are heavy and sometimes are weighted in addition. So when the catcher comes up, he is able without difficulty to capture the handcuffed monkeys, grown or young. 32. THE FESTIVAL OF SAINT JOHN. The twenty-fourth of June is the festival of Saint John, and it is celebrated in the various towns of the province of Bulacán. In the month of June there is usually rain and mud. The people believe that Saint John is the saint who makes the rain fall, and therefore is fond of water and mud. Hence the celebrations performed on his day are very different from those performed on the days of other saints. In the towns near the sea there are floods in the month of June and the water comes up into the town. In the towns farther from the sea it is also very rainy, and usually these floods and rains fall on the day of Saint John. The people who take part in the celebration get themselves drenched in the flood or in the rain. In the towns of Malolos and Hagúnoy, when this holiday falls into a time of large flood, almost all the people get into the water or else go canoeing. If there is no flood, the people walk about in the rain. Many people from the country and the suburbs go about collecting alms on this holiday. Most of them are boys or young men; rarely are there any women. In separate groups they go about collecting alms, and each group has with it a band that plays on bamboo instruments. Those who do not play are supposed to have the task of singing or dancing. All of them are almost without clothing, like Igorots, but their whole body, from head to foot, including even the eyes and ears, is caked over with mud. These groups go calling from house to house. They stop in front of a house and there they play music or sing or dance. They usually sing about the life of Saint John or of some other saint who was a friend of his. While their music is playing, their order is in single file in a circle, sometimes standing, sometimes squatting or kneeling. When there is a singer or dancer, he is within the circle of musicians and there performs his singing or dancing. After two or three pieces of music, songs, or dances they stop and all go round asking alms of the people who are watching them. If they receive no alms, they take mud from their body and throw it at the stingy people. They spend the whole day in such celebration. As these alms-gatherers are very numerous, they help to make the town gay, even though it is very rainy. When there is canoeing it is not uncommon for people to get drowned. Consequently this custom is gradually disappearing. Moreover, in these days people are getting stingy and rarely give alms. Hence the gatherers of alms on the festival of Saint John are gradually disappearing. 33. FAMILY CELEBRATIONS AFTER A DEATH. A family that has suffered a loss by death suffers not only in its mind and soul, but also in its purse. This is on account of the great expense borne by the bereaved ones in conforming with various customs. On the day when someone has died very many people call on his family, and these visitors do not content themselves with condoling with the dead person's family, but make a long stay in the house of mourning. Consequently the bereaved family is compelled to serve food to the visitors. Usually the dead person is not buried at once, but is first placed in state for two or three days from the time when he ceased to breathe. During these days people's visits stop neither by day nor by night. Most of them are relatives and others are friends, neighbors, and other acquaintances in town. If the deceased had many friends or relatives in other towns, they too come to visit, and they have to be given board and lodging by the dead person's family. This is because in the small towns in the provinces there are no hotels. In feeding all these guests they often use up half a cow, several sheep and goats, and innumerable chickens. The chef is usually hired, and the near relatives of the deceased help with the cooking. For this reason in the house of death the place where the deceased is lying in state is very quiet, and even when many people are there, when they talk it is only in whispers. But in the dining-room and kitchen the noise is extraordinary. Everyone is giving orders to the servants, some are washing dishes or pots, some are polishing knives and forks, some are serving at the table, and so on. In the kitchen the sputtering of the frying-pans never stops, and one can hear only the voices of the chef and his assistants. But in one chamber of the house stays the immediate family of the deceased and is plunged in grief. They all cry as hard as they can and from time to time blurt out questions as to what will happen to them because of the departure of the one who has died. If the deceased is wealthy, a priest comes to get him and escorts him to the church. Arriving at the church, the body is blessed by the priest and after this the priest escorts it also to the cemetery. All the visitors are present at the burial, and usually they ride in carriages. These carriages are hired, except for a few which belong to some of the visitors. When the dead has been buried the guests who come from other towns go along back to the house of mourning. Most commonly they soon depart, but sometimes they stay three days, to take part in the Three Nights' Celebration. The Three Nights are celebrated in the house of the deceased. At this time the relatives call and all pray together. In this praying only the older people take part, and the young men and young women tell each other riddles. These ceremonies are performed during the Three Nights. On the last night there are usually many people, and the entertaining is more elaborate than on the two preceding nights. Many of those who come give presents to the bereaved ones. Usually these are things to eat for the guests. In poor families these ceremonies are also performed, but the priest's calling for and escorting the corpse does not take place. For the blessing of the corpse one may pay the priest whatever one desires. The cheapest thing is the blessing of the corpse at the door of the church and placed on the ground. The next in order is the blessing of the corpse also at the door of the church, but with the coffin placed on an altar. The most expensive blessings are performed right by the altar. The price of these is from one-hundred to five-hundred pesos. 34. FLEEING FROM THE AMERICANS. The people of San Miguel were like herds of animals fleeing before the whips of the herdsmen and the pursuit of savage dogs. They are very fond of peace and quiet. Also they are very credulous toward hearsay, and these circumstances are what did not allow most of them to stay at ease in the town during the time of the revolutions against the Spaniards and the Americans. It is also true, however, that many of them ran away merely from fright or cowardice. When the revolution against the Spaniards of the year 1896 took place, I was only four years old. According to what my mother has told me, we went to Manila instead of going up into the mountains. I do not remember much of what happened at that time, except the fact that we went to the railroad station. When we arrived at Manila we were not able to enter the city unless we had a permit from an official of this city. The next thing which has become fixed in my memory is our stay in Bigaá, in the house of an attorney, whose name was Don Nasario. We went to this town to escape the fighting of the forces of the Katipunan and the Spaniards in Manila. In Bigaá were Tagalog soldiers drilling to take part in the fighting. A little later we went to the town of Bustos. This town also was at that time in the hands of the Katipunan. This town is very pretty because of the various aspect of the things one sees. The river is very broad, the banks are wide, and on the banks are hills of stone and sand. The friends with whom we stayed were kind people. They often played with my sister and me, and the game was to make ducks dive in the clear waters of the river. What took place in the fighting of those times I did not find out, for I was still small and had not yet any understanding. When the flight from the Americans came, I was already a little older, and I remember much of our flight to the mountains. When the Americans had defeated the soldiers of Aguinaldo the people of San Miguel were filled with terror. The report circulated in the town that the Americans were wild people, cruel and fierce, and without respect for anything. This no doubt was a rumor which the Spaniards caused to be spread, and especially the Spanish priests in the Philippines. Owing to people's fear of the Americans, almost all of us townspeople packed up our belongings and went up into the mountains. We were living at that time in the house of an aunt of my mother's, and there dwelt with us also the family of my mother's oldest brother. I remember that the packing and hauling of the goods of all of us who lived in the house took more than ten days. The wagons laden with our goods were despatched at night, so that the carabao that drew them should not get exhausted in the heat of the sun. The wagons were filled up to the top of the covering, and the carabao were much wearied by the drawing of the heavy loads. When no belongings of ours were left, we ourselves got into the wagon to be carried to the mountains. The place we went to was called Paang-Bundóc, half a day's walk from Sibul Springs. The dwelling we came to there was a mere hut with a roof of cugon-grass, and very small. The floor consisted of branches of trees with the twigs cut off, but not smooth or even. It was very small and was penetrated by wind and cold. Such was the place we lived in for several months, instead of the frame house of my mother's aunt. There in Paang-Bundóc there came to us many fellow-townspeople who were also fleeing, and the last comers reported that all the people of the town were by now in the mountains, or at any rate gone, and only the houses were left. After several months' stay at Paang-Bundóc we went from there to a secret place. This place was a clearing in the jungle. Not one of us was allowed to know the name of the place, and those who knew it kept it very secret, so that our hiding-place should not be known by any outsider. This was a way of escaping not only the enemy, but also robbers and thieves. The house we lived in there was very large, a very long building, all under one roof. The building was cut up into rooms of equal size. The number of these was about eight. In each room one family lived. Here too we were compelled to stay for several months. When the Americans were already near the town of San Miguel, it was reported to us that these people were not as hearsay described them, so that our fear of them gradually gave way. Accordingly we left our deep concealment and went to Paho. This too is a place in the mountains, but nearer to the town. There we were met by many fellow-townsmen and people from various other places. Most of them were sick from staying in the mountains. Here the medicines which Mother had taken up into the mountains instead of leaving them in the town, were of great use. These medicines belonged to Father; he had left them behind when he was banished to Sulu by the Spanish priests. One morning someone called at our house to buy some medicine. Mother went to the chest in which the medicine lay. When it was opened, we saw a snake coiled up and sleeping on the rice-hulls that covered the bottles. The people who saw this rejoiced greatly, but Mother was only frightened. She did not know the meaning of the snake. When the rejoicing was over, Mother asked why they were all so glad. They answered that the meaning of the snake was that the owner of the medicine was going to get rich. Mother only laughed at what they said, for she did not believe in these things. After a few months we left Paho and went home to our town. When we got there, most of the few belongings we had left there had been stolen by the few people who had been left in the town. The boards of the flooring of the house of Mother's aunt were gone, and they did not know who had taken them. Not long after our arrival in town it was reported that the American soldiers were now near to the town of San Miguel. We were not made uneasy by this news, and awaited their arrival. One noon the town was quiet. The soldiers who were in the town went away and those who did not go away threw away their guns. The reason for this was the entry of the American soldiers. From the back yard of the house in which we were living I saw the approach of the soldiers. Their trousers were khaki and their shirts blue. They carried their guns and ran in single file across the fields and came toward the road. When the Americans were in possession of the town, orders for some months were strict. Lights were ordered extinguished at six o'clock in the evening, and no one was allowed to walk about after this hour. In the mountains near San Miguel were many Tagalog soldiers, and they often attacked the town of San Miguel. On account of these attacks the Americans set fire to houses in San Miguel. Night after night when the soldiers attacked, the houses were regularly set fire to. Our neighbors came to us every night to sleep with us, because in our house the danger from the bullets of the contestants was not so great. The doctor of the American soldiers who were in the town of San Miguel had become a friend of my father's, and for this reason our house escaped being burned. Once this doctor told Father that he often accompanied the patrols and told them not to burn down our house. Finally, as the Tagalog soldiers did not succeed in driving the Americans out of the town, they stopped their attacks, and the town became quiet. II. GRAMMATICAL ANALYSIS. Note.--The following grammatical analysis of Mr. Santiago's speech can, of course, lay no claim to completeness: he surely uses some constructions and very many forms which I have not heard or have failed to note. Such fulness as will be found is due to Mr. Santiago's intelligence and patience under questioning and in conversation. A very few of the examples represent his form of sentences in MacKinlay's Handbook. The full representation of derivatives of the root pútol cut is due to Mr. Santiago's kindness in listing these forms, wherever they seemed possible to his speech-feeling, in accordance with my list of morphologic elements, and in then forming sentences to illustrate them. In the use of accent-marks and of the symbol y I have deviated from the practice of the International Phonetic Association. Where roots did not occur as independent words, I have prefixed a hyphen and given a theoretical meaning. In the explanation of constructions I have allowed myself the use of distorted English; although this time-honored device does not really reproduce the foreign expression (substituting, as it does, impossible constructions for natural ones), it does enable the reader to follow the general trend of the foreign idiom. A. PHONETICS. 1. Distinctive sounds. 1. The distinctive sounds are the following: Labial Dental Palatal Velar Laryngeal Stops: unvoiced p t k ` Stops: voiced b d g Spirants (unvoiced) s h Nasals (voiced) m n ng Trill (voiced) r Lateral (voiced) l High vowels i(e,y) u(o,w) Low vowel a 2. a is a low unrounded vowel, as in Standard English far, but more tense and with the corners of the mouth (lips) slightly drawn back: hàlamanàn garden. 3. i and u, in what may be regarded as the normal form, are about as high as the Standard (American) English vowels in pit and put, but more tense; moreover, the lips are well drawn back for i and well rounded for u: ínit heat, lutúin be cooked. 4. In the final syllable of a phrase (or of a word spoken alone) the tongue position of i and u is as a rule lowered, often all the way to mid position; the tenseness and lip position are, however, kept, so that the resulting sound often resembles French è and lower o. 5. u is nearly always so lowered: bágo new, buhòk hair. It is not lowered in pù` ten. 6. i is not lowered before dentals: káhit though, ákin my, pígil compulsion. It is usually kept high also before velars: sahìg flooring, singsìng ring. Some words ending in velars more or less regularly have the lowering: pútik, pútek mud; so especially some proper names: Intsèk Chinese, Lóleng Lola. Even in other cases the higher variants of i are commoner than the lower; hindì` not, kamì we, gabì night, mulì` again are commoner than these words with e; a very few words, such as ulè` again have oftener e than i; others, such as itèm black are fairly regular in their variation. 7. Within a closely unified phrase the lowering is as a rule omitted: ulí sya again he (ulè`), Hintú na! Stop! (hintò`). In this regard the habits are variable; the form chosen depends mostly on the speaker's momentary attitude toward the closeness of joining of the words. A dissimilative factor also seems to be involved: a following i or u favors the lowering: Natùtúlug ang áso. The dog is sleeping. Natùtúlog si Hwàn. Juan is sleeping. 8. o occurs in a number of words as the vowel in the last two syllables: in all of them the intervening consonant is the glottal stop: ó`o yes, do`òn there; bo`ò` whole has occasionally bu`ò`. The raised variant is not used within the phrase: Ó`o pò`. Yes, sir. Yes, ma'am. do`òn sya there he. e occurs in the same way in le`èg neck, beside li`ìg. 9. In word-formation, when, by the addition of suffixes, the i or u is no longer final, it is not lowered: lúto` cook, lutúin be cooked; itèm black, itimàn be made black. Occasionally, however, the lowered vowel is retained: táo human being, ka-taó-han mankind, beside kataúhan, tao-taó-han manikin, pupil of the eye, beside tautaúhan. The words with o`o (§ 8) keep the lowered vowel when uncontracted: pina-ro`on-àn was gone to (do`òn there); these words are also reduplicated with o: kinà-dò-ro`on-àn is been in. 10. e and o occur also in unassimilated loan-words: bèsbol baseball, Silà y nag-bè-bèsbol, They are playing baseball, estudiyànte, istudiyànte student, polìs, pulìs policeman, sipéro football player, bangkéro canoer (both with Spanish suffix -éro added to Tagalog words: sípa` football, bangkà` canoe). For e see also § 29. 11. As the variation between i and e and between o and u is thus never distinctive, there is no need of indicating it in transcription; I have, however, used the characters e and o wherever I heard markedly lowered variants. 12. i and u occur also as non-syllabics; I use, respectively, the characters y and w: yaòn that, gáya like, wíka` speech, word, táwag call. In final position they are always lowered: thus in patày dead person, ikàw thou, y represents non-syllabic e, w non-syllabic o. 13. In word-formation before suffixes vowels are in certain cases lost, see Morphology: kánin be eaten, -káin eat with suffix -in. 14. The laryngeal (glottal) stop occurs as a distinctive sound only after a vowel at the end of words: báta` child, boy, girl, hindì` not, hintò` stop. As a non-distinctive sound it is used as a vowel-separator wherever syllabic vowels follow each other without an intervening distinctive non-syllabic. In this use I shall not indicate it in transcription, as it may be taken for granted wherever vowels are written together. Such words as those in § 8 will therefore from now on be transcribed without the sign for glottal stop: doòn, óo, boò`. So táo (§ 9) means tá`o, etc. Cf. below. 15. The distinctive final glottal stop is usually lost before a following word in the phrase: hindí sya not he, Hintú na! Stop! It is always lost before the words ng, t, and y: ang báta ng mabaìt the good child. 16. p, t, k are unvoiced fortis stops; they differ from the corresponding English sounds primarily in that they are only slightly aspirated. In sentence-final the implosion only is made. t (in contrast with the English sound) is postdental, often near to interdental. k is always articulated in back velar position (as in English coo), no matter what sound follows. The closure of k is occasionally imperfect, so that a rather open velar spirant (resembling Slavic x) is heard: malaxàs for malakàs strong; this variation has not been noted in transcription. In word-formation p, t, k alternate, respectively, with m, n, ng; see Morphology. 17. b, d, g correspond in position to p, t, k. They are fully voiced lenis stops; in sentence-final often implosive only, and then weakly voiced. The closure of b is occasionally imperfect, so that a bilabial spirant is produced: túVig for túbig water; this variation has been ignored in transcription. In word-formation b alternates with m; see Morphology. Final d in word-formation is always replaced by r before the vowel of a suffix: lákad walk, lakar-àn walking-party. Initial d becomes r in the sentence frequently after the final vowel of a preceding word and occasionally even after a final non-syllabic, in the words daàn hundred (not in daàn road), damò, dàw, dìn, díne, díto, diyàn, doòn; e. g. ako rìn I too. In word-formation some words frequently change d to r after the vowel of a prefix or a reduplication, and others do not: pa-raàn means (daàn road, way), but i-pa-dalà be sent (dalà bring, carry). The words (or roots) that have changeable d- are those mentioned in the preceding paragraph and daàn, -dáka, damdàm, dámi, dámot, dangàl, dapà`, dápat, dáti, -dátig, -datìng, dikìt, -dinìg, -díwang, -dúkit, -dumè, dúnong, dúsa. 18. s is the normal unvoiced sibilant, spoken in postdental position. Before y and iy it is somewhat palatalized (more, for instance, than Russian palatalized s),--a variation that is not distinctive and need not be noted in transcription: siyà, syà he, she, pronounced with palatalized s. s alternates in word-formation with n; see Morphology. In the affricate combination ts, which is felt and treated as a single sound, the s is always palatalized: Intsèk Chinese. 19. h is the unvoiced glottal spirant; as in English, it occurs only in syllable-initial: hindì` not, báhay house, mukhà` face. In word-formation h is often spoken before the initial vowel of a suffix that is added to a final vowel: -bása read, basa-hàn reading room. See Morphology. 20. The nasals m, n, ng correspond in position to the stops. In word-formation they alternate, respectively, with p, t, k; m also with b, and n also with s; ng is often prefixed to an initial vowel; see Morphology. Both in word-formation and in the phrase the nasals are occasionally assimilated in position to a following consonant: sà m pù` ten (m for ng), Saàng ka páparon? Where are you going? (for saàn). In the sentence, final n is lost before the words ng, t, and y: ang áki ng amà my father (for ákin my). 21. r is the voiced tongue-tip trill, postdental. It occurs between vowels within simple, underived words: áraw sun, day,--no doubt as a substitute for d, which never occurs in this position; everywhere else r is merely a variant of d (§ 17). 22. l is postdental; the timbre is much as in Standard French or German, the mid-tongue not lowered. 23. f and v (both labiodental) occur in unassimilated foreign words; they are occasionally replaced (especially in derivatives) by p and b. Filipínas the Philippines, infiyèrno, impiyèrno Hell, fiyèsta, piyèsta fiesta, but always ka-piyestá-han day of a festival, sivìl, sibìl civil, provìnsiya province, bintána` window, báso drinking-glass. r occurs freely in all positions in foreign words (cf. § 21): trèn train, trabáho work, krùs cross, relòs watch, sombréro hat, beside Tagalized sambalílo. The occurrence of ts (§ 18) is probably limited to foreign words. 24. When in word-formation a vowel is lost before a suffix (§ 13), the non-syllabics thereby brought together are subject to various changes: sigl-àn be filled, silìd with suffix -an. See Morphology. 2. Syllabication. a. In the word. 25. If a single non-syllabic follows a stressed vowel, the latter is spoken with open syllable accent, and the non-syllabic begins the following syllable: bá-hay house, sù-sú-lat will write. If a single non-syllabic follows an unstressed vowel, the latter has close syllable accent,--that is, no stress-division is made between the syllables (just as in English): itò this, kasakimàn selfishness, sumú-lat wrote. If two non-syllabics intervene between two syllabics, the syllable-division is made between the non-syllabics: luk-sò jump, muk-hà` face, In-tsèk Chinese. Stressed ay seems, however, to have open syllable accent: káy-lan when? Syllabics never follow each other without an intervening non-syllabic. If no other non-syllabic intervenes, a non-distinctive glottal stop is spoken. I have not written the glottal stop in this position, as it may always be taken for granted (§ 14). Hence daàn road is pronounced da`àn, siìk young pig si`ìk, doòn there do`òn, táo human being tá`o. Nor do more than two non-syllabics ever follow each other in a native word. The following are examples of unusual combinations in foreign words: An-drès, Pé-dro, beside Tagalized Píro, ká-tre bedstead, sèr-mon, trabá-ho work, but in reduplication mag-tà-trabá-ho will work, krùs cross, but in reduplication nag-kú-kurùs crosses himself, cf. baráso arm, lóbo balloon (Sp. globo). 26. In frequently used words, especially in more rapid speech, the intervocalic glottal stop is often lost. If like vowels thus meet, they coalesce into a single vowel of no more than normal length: pumaròn went there beside pumaroòn. When oo is thus contracted, the resulting o may be raised to u (cf. § 9): pinarunàn was gone to, beside pinaronàn and pinaroonàn. If unlike vowels meet, the non-syllabic corresponding to the higher vowel (i. e. y with i, e and w with u, o) takes the place of the glottal stop. So táwo beside táo. The combinations so resulting are treated in every way like those discussed in the next §. 27. If the non-syllabic intervening between two vowels is y or w, the combination involves no peculiarity, provided that neither of the vowels is homogeneous with the non-syllabic: bá-yan town, pag-dirí-wang celebration, gayòn thus. If, however, one of the vowels is homogeneous with the non-syllabic (i. e. i, e with y and u, o with w) and is not stressed, it is spoken shorter than a normal unstressed vowel: in such words as iyòn that, buwàn moon, month the i, u are spoken shorter than in other positions. So also in táwo (see preceding §) the o. After consonants these short vowels are often entirely omitted: bwàn beside buwàn, syà he, she beside siyà. The syllable-division remains, however, as in the longer form: kápwà` fellow- beside kápuwà` is pronounced ká-pwà` (not kap-wa`). Even in other positions these reduced vowels are often omitted, especially in frequently used combinations: Ano yòn? What's that? beside Ano iyòn?, occasionally táw for táwo, táo. 28. Conversely, one hears now and then a superfluous short i, e with a y, and an u, o with a w: iyaòn for yaòn that, máye for máy having, uwalà` for walà` without. 29. The combinations ay and ai are occasionally replaced by a long open e: kélan beside káylan when?, mé báhay beside máy báhay wife, housewife, me áre` beside may áre` master, owner, ténga beside taínga car. b. In word-formation. 30. When in word-formation affixes or reduplicative syllables are added to a root, the syllabication is as in a simple word: sulá-tan be written to (súlat writing with suffix -an), sumú-lat wrote (same, with infix -um-), umuwè`, umwè` (§ 27) went home (-uwè` go home, with prefixed -um-). When vowels meet, they are as a rule separated by the non-distinctive intervocalic glottal stop: maà-á-re` will be possible (áre` property reduplicated and with prefix ma-). 31. The intervocalic glottal stop is rarely reduced, except in certain much-used combinations, the commonest being those with the prefix i- and with the prefix ka- and the suffix -an in certain uses (see Morphology): iniútos was commanded (útos command with prefixes in- and i-), usually iniyútos; laruàn, toy (larò` play, game with suffix -an), usually laruwàn, larwàn, but (with a different use of the suffix -an) làrúan playground; kayibígan, kaybígan friend (íbig love, desire, with prefix ka- and suffix -an), but kaìbígan sweetheart and kaibigàn affection. For -íwan abandon with prefix i- only the contracted form íwan be abandoned is spoken. Cf. further ikaápat, ikápat fourth (ápat four with prefixes i- and ka-). 32. Conversely, an original y or w is sometimes under emphasis replaced by glottal stop; thus, for patayìn be killed (patày dead person, kill with suffix -in), occasionally pataìn. 33. When a word is doubled, when two words are united in a compound word, and after the prefixes that end in g, the syllable-division is however made as though separate words were meeting in a sentence,--that is, according to the rules in the following paragraphs. c. In the phrase. 34. When words come together in the phrase, the word-division is maintained (as in English) as a syllable-division. In the case of initial consonants the division is thus like that within a word: Sumúlat ka. Write (thou), Sumúlat siyà, Sumúlat syà. He wrote, Sumáma ka. Go along, Sumáma siyà, Sumáma syà. He went along. Before a vowel-initial the word-division is maintained as a syllable-division by the use of a non-distinctive glottal stop (as in German): Sumúlat akò. I wrote, i. e. sumú-lat-`akò; Sumáma akò. I went along, i. e. sumá-ma-`akò. Doubled words, compound words, and forms with prefixes ending in g (namely, mag-, nag-, pag-, tag-) are similarly treated (§ 33): agàd-agàd immediately (agàd at once doubled), i. e. agàd-`agàd; báhay-aklátan library-building (compound of báhay house and aklátan place for books), i. e. bá-hay-`ak-lá-tan; pagsúlat an act of writing (súlat writing with prefix pag-), i. e. pag-sú-lat; nagáral studied (áral teaching with prefix nag-), i. e. nag-`á-ral. Occasionally, in emphatic speech, the same division is made within other formations: umakiyàt, umakyàt climbed (-akiyàt climb with prefixed -um-), occasionally, but rarely, um-`akiyàt, usually umakiyàt, umakyàt (by § 30). 35. Reduction of the glottal stop and contraction of vowels occur only in a few much-used combinations of words: si Andrès (si is the article of proper names), also siy Andrès, sy Andrès; Ano iyàn? What's that?, also Ano yàn? and even An yàn?; na itò this (na is a particle expressing attribution), also na yitò, na ytò. 36. Occasionally such reductions go even farther, as in anò in the preceding paragraph, and occur where the glottal stop is not involved: as, sà for isà one in sà m pù` ten, for isà ng pù`. 37. The words at, ay, and na have also a shorter form, t, y, and ng, respectively, which occurs only (but not always) after a final vowel, glottal stop, or n. When these forms are used, the final glottal stop or n is lost (§§ 15, 20) and the t, y, or ng is treated in every way exactly as though it were part of the preceding word: butò at balàt, butò t balàt bone and skin, i. e. butòt-balàt; Iyòn ay mabúti, Iyò y mabúti. That's good, i. e. iyòy-mabú-ti; ang báta` na mabaìt (clumsy, as in the speech of a child just learning to speak, for:) ang báta ng mabaìt the good child, i. e. ang-bá-tang-maba`ìt. 3. Accentuation. a. Word-accent. 38. In a word of more than one syllable at least one syllable is normally spoken with a greater degree of stress than the others. The unstressed syllables have short vowels (about as long as the vowel in English pit or put) and close syllable-stress (§ 25). 39. A non-final syllable ending in a non-syllabic (i. e. a closed non-final syllable) never has the stress; such words as luk-sò jump, muk-hà` face, ak-làt book are therefore always oxytone. The only exceptions are syllables ending in ay; this combination seems to be felt as a unit capable of open syllable-stress: káy-lan, ké-lan when; further, the words mín-san once, pín-san cousin, and nàn-don, by-form of ná-roòn is there; and, finally, unassimilated foreign words: bès-bol, sèr-mon, kwàr-ta, kwàl-ta money (Spanish cuarto), but also Tagalized kwaltà. Words like ká-pwà` (beside ká-puwà`) are not exceptions, for the first syllable is not closed (§ 27). 40. The stressed syllables fall into two grammatical classes which are only in part phonetically distinct; we may call them primary and secondary word-accent. 41. The primary word-accent on a final syllable or (in the cases mentioned in § 39) on a closed non-final syllable, consists merely in greater stress than that of an unaccented syllable, accompanied by a pitch-rise of about half a note. [4] I use the grave accent-sign: gabì night, hindì` not, kamày hand, buhòk hair, nàndon is there, sèrmon sermon. 42. On a non-final open syllable the primary word-accent involves an increase of stress (less than in English), a pitch-rise of two notes, lengthening of the vowel to about one and one-half times the duration of an unstressed vowel, and open syllable-stress (§ 25). I use the acute accent-mark: báhay house, báyan town. So also, irregularly, syllables in ay: káylan, kélan when?, and even finally: káy, ké than, máy, mé having; also mínsan, pínsan. If an unaccented syllable precedes, the pitch-rise really begins on the latter: in sumúlat wrote, for instance, the first syllable is spoken above the usual pitch, and the two-note pitch-rise is merely completed in the accented syllable. 43. The secondary word-accent on a final syllable has weaker stress than the primary accent in the same place, and ordinarily lacks the pitch-rise. Grammatically, it is recognizable by the presence of the primary accent on another syllable; I use the grave accent-mark: áakiyàt, áakyàt will climb, nárinìg was heard. 44. On a non-final open syllable the secondary accent differs from the primary accent in similar position in two respects: its pitch-rise is less marked, varying from three-quarters to one and three-quarters notes, and its vowel-lengthening is greater, reaching twice the length of an unstressed vowel. I use the grave accent-mark: sùsúlat will write. When the primary accent is on the last syllable and therefore weak (§ 41), the secondary accent often approaches a non-final primary accent in character: the first syllable of a word like nàbuksàn came open is often phonetically the same as that of a word like nárinìg was heard. If an unaccented syllable precedes the secondary accent, the pitch-rise really begins in the former: in such a word as sumùsúlat is writing the first syllable is spoken with higher than normal pitch, in the second syllable the pitch is brought up to a note and three-fourths above normal, and in the third the two-note rise is completed. Of two secondary accents following each other the preceding is the more marked: nàràramdamàn is felt (nà- has more marked accent than rà-). This helps to make the primary accent distinct, for it is stronger than a preceding secondary accent: sùsúlat will write (the second su- is stronger, not weaker, than the first); nàlàláman is known (if the third syllable had a secondary accent, it would be less marked than the first and second, but its pitch and stress are actually higher). b. Sentence-accent. 45. Certain words are atonic, i. e. are always spoken unstressed in the phrase: e. g. ang áso the or a dog, sa ákin to me. The atonic words are: ang, at, ay, kay to (not káy, ké than), kung, na attributive (not nà already), nang, ni of (not nì nor), o or (not ò oh), pag, sa, si. The short variants of at, ay, and na, namely t, y, and ng (§ 37), having no vowel, cannot be stressed; they are treated in every way as though they formed part of the preceding word. 46. In closely united phrases the last word keeps its accent, while the preceding ones often weaken theirs. Especially a final syllable often loses its accent before another word in the phrase: dáhil díto on account of this, often: dahil díto, ang mangà báhay the houses, often: ang manga báhay, ang kanyà ng báhay his or her house, ang kanya ng báhay, ang malakì ng báhay the large house, ang malaki ng báhay. 47. Opposed to the preceding rule is the treatment of certain words which we may call enclitics. These very frequently, to be sure, receive the normal treatment: that is, they are stressed and the preceding word either keeps its stress or, if oxytone, often loses it; but frequently, instead, the enclitic loses its accent: Umakyàt siyà, Umakyat syà. He climbed, but also Umakyàt sya. Áakyàt siyà, Áakyat syà. He will climb, but also Áakyàt sya. Gánu ka na bà kakínis? How clever are you now? (kà, nà, bà are all enclitic). Enclitics have the further (and more easily recognized) peculiarity that they follow the first orthotonic (i. e. neither atonic nor pretonic, § 48) word of the expression to which they belong (either as modifiers or as subject): ang mahahába nya ng paà his (niyà, enclitic) long legs. When several enclitics come together the last one is often stressed. Monosyllabic enclitics precede disyllabic: Nahánap na nyà ang sombréro. He has already looked for the hat. (nà and niyà are enclitics; the latter is treated as disyllabic even when in the contracted form nyà). The enclitics are: (1) always: the monosyllabic forms of the personal pronouns, namely kà, kò, mò, and the words (particles) bà, bagà, dàw, dìn, màn, múna, nà, namàn, nawà`, ngà`, pà, palà, pò`, sána, tulòy. (2) frequently or in certain senses: the disyllabic forms of the personal pronouns (including siyà, syà and niyà, nyà) except ikàw (which is never enclitic), the demonstrative pronouns, and the words díne, díto, diyàn, doòn, kayà`, lámang, ulè`; occasionally short phrases (§ 88). For details about these words see Syntax. 48. Opposed to the rule in § 46 are also certain words (particles) which we may call pretonics. Their treatment is often regular: that is, the pretonic as well as the following word keeps its accent, or the pretonic loses its accent before a following word; but sometimes the pretonic keeps its accent and the following word, if oxytone, is unaccented: máy sakìt, may sakìt having sickness, i. e. sick, but also máy sakit. Only máy and nása actually appear with this accentuation. The other pretonics are so classed because they share with these two words the peculiarity that an enclitic belonging to the phrase follows not the pretonic word, but the first orthotonic word: Máy katawàn sya ng pára ng táo. He has a body like a human being. (siyà he, enclitic follows not máy, which is pretonic, but katawàn body, the first orthotonic word of the predicate). The pretonics are the particles báwat, káhit, kapàg, kinà, mangà, máy, nagìng (together with its other forms, § 250), nása (together with its other forms, § 212), nì nor (not ni of), ninà, pagkà, sinà, tagà (tigà). See Syntax. 49. A final syllable ending in glottal stop (§ 14) often receives a higher degree of stress than a corresponding syllable with a different final. If the syllable ending in glottal stop has not the word-accent, it often receives an accent resembling the secondary accent on a non-final syllable; this is especially common if the glottal stop is lost before another word in the phrase: páre`, párè` priest, Párì Hwàn Father Juan. If the syllable has a word-accent and the glottal stop is lost in the phrase, its accent is often spoken like a primary word-accent on an open syllable: Walá sya. He has none (walà`), Naglálarú sya. He is playing (naglálarò`). If, however, the glottal stop is lost before t, y, or ng, this heightening of accent does not take place, since the syllable is then treated as ending in t, y, or ng: Syà y walà ng aklàt (i. e. walàng-`ak-làt), Sya y wala ng aklàt. He has no book or no books. 50. In a succession of otherwise unstressed syllables a rhythmical movement is usually produced by means of grammatically insignificant stresses weaker than a secondary word-accent; the distribution, and, indeed, the occurrence of these is so variable that I have not tried to indicate them in transcription, especially as they are never distinctive. Thus, in the phrases in § 46 an accent of this kind may fall on the next-to-last syllables of the words that lose their normal word-accent: ang mànga báhay, ang kànya ng amà his father, ang malàki ng báhay. 51. The successive accents in a sentence bear a well-marked relation to each other: the early and especially the middle ones have higher absolute pitch than the last; an accent on the last syllable of a sentence often entirely loses its pitch-rise. As a consequence of this rather fixed melody, the differences of pitch-movement between statements, questions, commands, and exclamations of various kinds are not so marked as in English; the higher stress of emotionally dominant (emphatic) words, also, is less marked than in English. In exclamation or under emphasis the accent of a final syllable may be like that of a medial syllable, and may, in addition take on a falling accent after the rise: Hwán! (with rising-falling stress and pitch) Juan!, for normal Huwàn, Hwàn. Other disturbances of accent also occur in exclamation. B. SYNTAX. 1. Sentence and word. a. Syntactic relations. 52. The sentence consists of one or more words: Aráy! Ouch! Umúulàn. It's raining. Ina kò! Mother of mine! (as exclamation). Sya y sumùsúlat. He or she is or was writing. 53. The relations between the words in a sentence are the usual ones: (1) Attribution: Ina kò! Mother (of) mine! (2) Predication: Sumùsúlat syà. Literally: Is-writing he. (3) The serial relation: butò t balàt bone and skin. 54. Some of the particles (§ 55) seem, however, to stand in none of these relations, but rather to express these relations themselves. Thus the particle t and in the preceding example is expressive of the serial relation. So further: malakì ng báhay large house; the particle ng expresses the attributive relation; Sya y sumùsúlat. The particle y expresses the predicative relation. It is to be remarked, further, that the sphere of attribution includes some cases in which the attribute markedly alters the sense: sakìt sickness: máy sakìt (máy is an attribute) having sickness, sick. [5] b. Parts of speech. 55. Tagalog distinguishes two parts of speech: full words and particles. The particles either express the syntactic relations between full words (as illustrated in § 54) or act as attributes of full words (so máy in the example in § 54): Hindí sya sumùsúlat. He is not writing. The particle hindì` not is an attribute of sumùsúlat. In contrast with the particles, full words act not only as attributes, but also as subject or predicate, and any full word may, in principle, be used in any of these three functions: (1) Subject: Ang sumùsúlat ay si Pédro. The person writing is Pedro. Ang pulà nang panyò ay matingkàd. The red of the handkerchief is intense. (2) Predicate: Sya y sumùsúlat. He is writing. Pulà ang panyo ng itò. This handkerchief is red. (3) Attribute: ang báta ng sumùsúlat the writing child, the child who is writing; ang pulà ng panyò the red handkerchief. 56. Independent of this classification into parts of speech are certain less important groupings of words and certain phrase types, some of which will appear in the course of the analysis. Others, however, demand mention at the outset. c. Static and transient words. 57. Transient words express an element of experience viewed as impermanent, i. e. belonging to some limited portion of time, so sumùsúlat above, as opposed, e. g., to siyà, pulà, panyò, báta`, Pédro. Words which are not transient may be called static. Only a few particles are transient; among the full words the transient group is large and important. d. Personal names. 58. Except in exclamations and in address, names of persons (or animals) are distinguished from other words by being always (but see § 78) preceded by the atonic particle si: Hwàn! Juan! si Hwàn Juan, si Salamìn Glass, Mirror (as name of a dog). 59. Many terms of relationship and titles may be used in place of the name of an individual and then belong to the personal name class: ang amà the father, ang áki ng amà my father, but: si Amà Father. Thus are used, further: si Inà Mother, si Tátay Papa, si Nánay Mama, si Kúya or si Kúyang Oldest brother, si Atè Oldest sister, si Ingkòng Grandfather, si Indà` or si Impò Grandmother, si Áli or si Tiyà Aunt, si Máma` Uncle; si Bathála` God, but: ang Dyòs. So also phrases in which these and other titles as attributes precede a name, see § 256. 60. The particle sinà or silà, pretonic, in place of si forms an expression denoting the person named together with his family or group of adherents: sina Hwàn or sila Hwàn Juan and his family or Juan and his crowd. With a series of names sinà implies that those named form a group: si Hwàn, si Andrès, at si Mariyáno Juan, Andrés, and Mariano; sina Hwàn, Andrès, at Mariyáno the group consisting of Juan, Andrés, and Mariano; sina Hwàn, sina Andrès, at sina Mariyáno Juan, Andrés, and Mariano, each with his group. e. The object construction. 61. When a word or phrase denotes an element of experience viewed as an object, it is, with certain exceptions, preceded by the atonic particle ang: ang báta` the or a child, boy, girl; children, ang báhay the, a house; houses, ang báyan the, a town, ang kabàítan goodness, kindness; an act of kindness, ang kataúhan mankind, ang pagsúlat the or an act of writing, ang mabúte that which is good, the best thing. The following are the exceptions: 62. Personal names preceded by si or sinà (silà) do not take ang; they always, of course, denote an object idea. See the examples in § 58 ff. 63. The personal pronouns (which always express an object idea) do not take ang. They are: akò I; kità we, i. e. thou and I, inclusive dual; táyo we, i. e. thou (or ye) and I (or we), inclusive dual and plural; kamì we (but not you), exclusive dual and plural; ikàw, kà thou (singular); kayò ye, you (dual, plural, and polite singular); siyà he, she; silà they. All of these except ikàw are often enclitic; kà is always so: Ikàw ay talúnan. You are defeated. Sumúlat ka. Write (thou). Siyà is used only of living beings, except for a single peculiar construction to be described below (§ 106 f.). Kità in the sense here given is not much used, táyo being commoner: Palìt kità nang sombréro. Let's trade hats. Kità ay pumaroòn sa teyátro. Or, more commonly: Táyo ay pumaroòn sa teyátro. Let us go to the theatre. Kità is more used in another meaning, as we shall see (§ 182). Kamì differs from these two words in excluding the person or persons addressed: Kàkáin táyo. We shall eat. Nakitúluy kamì kina Pédro. We asked hospitality of Pedro's. In both of these sentences (as also in that with táyo already given) two or more people may be meant. It will be seen, therefore, that the distinction between dual and plural is not categoric (obligatory). That between singular and plural is categoric in these pronouns; everywhere else it is not obligatory; the idea of plurality is inherent in many words and forms, but these are used only where the idea of plurality is explicitly prominent. 64. The demonstrative pronouns as object expressions also reject ang. They are: irè this (on the person of the speaker or within his immediate reach); itò this (more generally, of anything nearer to the speaker than to the person addressed); iyàn, yàn that (nearer to the person addressed); iyòn, yaòn, yoòn, yòn that (of things distant from both speaker and person addressed). Itò and iyòn are used also anaphorically: the former--the latter. The demonstrative pronouns are often enclitic. Ang is omitted also before an object expression in which a demonstrative pronoun stands first as a modifier, see § 130. 65. Similarly before object expressions in which an interrogative pronoun stands first as a modifier, see §§ 131.168. 66. The use of ang is optional before the numerative pronouns. The use of ang seems sometimes to lend these greater definiteness, sometimes to be indifferent. The numerative pronouns used as object expressions are: ibà other, ilàn few, karamíhan most, lahàt all. (The other numerative pronouns, namely boò` whole and the particles bála any and báwat every are not used as object expressions). ibà others; ilàn a few; Ang ilàn ay malalakàs at ang ibà ay mahihína`. Some are strong and others are weak. Lahàt nang táo sa báya ng itò ay dápat umalìs. All people (who are) in this town ought to leave (nang táo of people, of the people is an attribute of lahàt). Ang lahàt nang táo sa báya ng itò ay máy sakìt. All the people in this town are diseased. karamíhan sa kanilà most of them; ang karamíhan the majority. The use of ang is optional also before object expressions in which a numerative pronoun stands first as an attribute, see § 132. 67. The use of ang is optional before the cardinal numerals: isà sa kanilà, or: ang isà sa kanilà one of them. The simple cardinal numerals are: isà one, dalawà two, tatlò three, ápat four, limà five, ánim six, pitò seven, walò eight, siyàm, syàm nine. Similarly, the use of ang is optional before an object expression in which a cardinal numeral stands first as a modifier, see § 133. In dates and for the hours of the day the Spanish numerals are commonly used; these demand ang: ang abéynte-kwátru nang Húnyo the twenty-fourth of June. 68. Ang is omitted, further, before object expressions beginning with the particle nì (§ 253) and optionally before those beginning with the particle káhit (§ 248). All object expressions lack ang when forming an indefinite object predicate (§ 109), in expressions of indefinite quantity (§ 69), when used indefinitely after pára (§ 275), hanggàng (§ 293), patì (§ 305), and in exclamation or address (§§ 75.78). [6] f. Expressions of indefinite quantity. 69. Object expressions are used (without ang, § 68) to express indefinite objects (roughly speaking such as would lack the article the in English) or indefinite quantities of objects, when preceded by certain modifiers. These modifiers are the pretonic particle máy, expressing existence or forthcomingness (§ 252), and the full words máy-roòn, equivalent with máy; walà` the negative of these; malakì great; maláon long; marámi much, many (§ 138). The phrases so formed may be described as expressions of indefinite quantity. Beside the omission of ang before the object expression, they have the peculiarity that in certain constructions they express (without further accompaniments) the possessor of that designated: may súngay there are horns or having horns, horned; máy-roo ng aklàt there are books or having a book, books; wala ng aklàt there are no books or without a book, having no books; malakì ng kagamitàn great usefulness, there is great use, or having great usefulness; maláo ng panahòn long time or taking a long time; marámi ng salapè` much money, there is much money or having much money; marámi ng kaybígan many friends, there are many friends or having many friends. Máy expresses also approximateness (where the object expression is one of number): may ápat na pu ng paà about forty feet or having, measuring about forty feet. 70. An expression of indefinite quantity may, as a unit, stand in object construction; in this case the first three have possessive value, but not the others: ang máy sakìt the or a person having sickness, the or a sick person; ang máy-roo ng aklàt the (a) person who has a book or books; ang wala ng hiyà` the (a) shameless person; but: ang malakì ng báhay the, a large house; ang marámi ng bágay the many things. 71. Marámi may by itself stand in object construction; it then has the meaning: ang marámi the many, the crowd, the people, hoi polloi. 2. Subject and predicate. 72. Most sentences consist of a subject and a predicate, showing the construction of Sumùsúlat syà, Sya y sumùsúlat (§§ 53, 54). Indeed, this goes farther than in English; many commands, for instance, have the subject-and-predicate structure: Sumúlat ka. Write thou, i. e. Write. Nevertheless, much of the syntax is determined by the use of constructions which lack subject-and-predicate structure. a. Non-predicative sentences. 73. The sentences which lack subject-and-predicate structure are of two general types: (1) exclamatory, and (2) impersonal-anaphoric. 74. To the exclamatory type belongs the use in independent sentences of certain particles, the primary interjections: Abà! Ah! Aráy! Ouch! Ó! Oh! As in other languages, some of these violate the normal phonetic structure, that is, are "inarticulate": Sss! Whew!, uttered when the weather is very hot. One whistles when one wants the wind to blow. 75. To the exclamatory type belong, further, words and phrases used as secondary interjections: Anò! What! (unpleasant surprise). Inà ko! or: Ina kò! Mother of mine! Ano ng hína mo! What weakness of-you! i. e. How weak you are! As the second example shows, object expressions are here used without ang (§ 68). 76. Certain words with the prefix ka- expressing high degree of a quality (see Morphology), with their attributes: Kaitìm nang gabi! What-blackness of-the night! i. e. How black the night is! 77. Certain words with the prefix ka- and reduplication expressing recent completion of an act (see Morphology), with their modifiers: Karárating ko pa lámang! Just-arriving by-me still only! i. e. I have only just arrived. 78. Vocatives, in calling or address: Kayò ng manga makasalánan! Ye sinners! In this use personal names lack si and all object expressions lack ang (§ 68): Hwàn! Juan! Máma`! Sir! Áli! Madam! Wala ng hiyà`! Shameless one! 79. Commands of certain brusque or familiar types, used, e. g., to children, servants, animals, in haste or excitement: Hintú na! Stop! Ílag na! Get out of the way! Súlong! Go ahead! Hurry up! Panáog nà sa báhay! Come down from the house! Come on out! Tàbí po` Look out please! (Cry of drivers to people on the street. The accent is irregular by § 51 for tabì). 80. Certain set expressions, such as greetings: Maganda ng áraw pò`! Good-morning! Salámat. Thanks. Salámat sa iyò. Thank you. 81. Expressions of affirmation and negation: Óo. Yes. Oo ngà`. Yes indeed. Táma`. That's right, Exactly. Hindì`. No. Walà`. None, Nothing, There isn't. 82. The mere naming of an idea, as in counting or giving the title of a story: Isà, dalawà, tatlò, ápat, limà.... One, two, three, four, five.... 83. (2) Of the impersonal-anaphoric type are many answers to questions or continuations of dialogue: Kahápon. Yesterday. Akò. I, It's I, It was I. (Never "Itò y akò," or the like). 84. Certain occurrences, especially meteoric phenomena, are not analyzed into subject and predicate: Umúulàn. It's raining. Kabilúgan nang bwàn. Roundness of-the moon, i. e. There is a full moon. Bumábahà`. There is a flood. Naàáre`. It is possible, allowable. Hindí nalaúnan. It did not take long, It was not long. Taginit nà. It is summer already. 85. Very common in impersonal construction are expressions of indefinite quantity (§ 69). In this use they express existence or forthcomingness (or the opposite) of indefinite objects: Mày manga babáye. There are women. Máy-roo ng aswàng sa báyan. There was a vampire in the town. Walà ng papèl. There is no paper. Walà ng anu màn! There is nothing. Also: Not at all! You're welcome! Malaki ng twà` nang iba ng táo. There was great rejoicing by the other people. Sa dalága ng itò y marámi ng manglilígaw. For this young woman there were many suitors. 86. Less common in impersonal construction are expressions of occurrences involving indefinite or indifferent persons or things: Humúkay. One should dig. Nagumpisa nà nang pagsábuy. "They" have already begun to throw. 87. There is great freedom as to presence or absence of anaphorically determined elements (i. e., such as have been recently mentioned or, less commonly, are about to be mentioned), including the subject; when this is wanting, the subject-and-predicate structure is, of course, lost: Hiníla nya sa pasígan. Was-dragged by-him to-the shore, i. e. He dragged it or the tree (sc. itò, or: ang púno`, from the preceding sentence) to the shore. Hindí makabùbúti sa kanilà. (It, the scheme mentioned) will do them no good. Many constructions later to be noticed depend on this habit of omitting anaphorically determined elements, cf. e. g.: Ang púno` ay tumúbo hanggàng sa magbúnga. The tree grew until (sc. it) bore fruit. Pagdatìng niya ay sabíhin mo ng maghintày. At-the-coming of-him be-said (impersonal) by-you that (sc. he) should-wait, i. e. When he comes, tell him to wait. b. The subject. 88. The subject of a sentence is always an object expression. The only exceptions are complex sentences with entire predications (§ 115) or quotations (§ 329) as subject. 89. The subject may have two positions: (1) Non-enclitic: it precedes or follows the predicate; in the former case the predicate is introduced by the atonic particle ay, y (y often after syllabic vowel, n, or `; see Phonetics): Sumùsúlat ang báta`. The child is writing; or: Ang báta` ay sumùsúlat. Ang báta y sumùsúlat. Siyà ay sumùsúlat. Sya y sumùsúlat. He, she is writing. Here siyà, syà is not enclitic. (2) Enclitic: it follows the first orthotonic word of the predicate: Hindí sya sumùsúlat. Not he is-writing, i. e. He is not writing. Sumùsúlat sya nang líham. He is writing a letter, letters. In these examples siyà is enclitic. Not only enclitically used pronouns (§§ 63. 64), but even short phrases are thus used: Pinapútol nila si Hwàn nang káhoy. Was-ordered-to-cut by-them Juan (subject) some wood, i. e. They ordered Juan to cut wood. Here the position of si Hwàn after the first orthotonic word of the predicate (pinapútol) but before the rest of the predicate (nang káhoy) shows it to be (like nilà) an enclitic element. With the same subject not enclitically used the sentence would be: Pinapútol nila nang káhoy si Hwàn, and this, indeed, is the more usual locution. 90. On the use or non-use of an anaphoric subject (siyà, silà, itò) see § 87. c. The predicate. 91. The predicate may be (1) a transient word with its modifiers, (2) a static word with its modifiers, or (3) an object expression. (1) Transient predicate. 92. Transient words fall into four classes according to the four relations which a subject may bear to them when they are used as predicate. We may designate these classes by the following names: 1. active: the subject is viewed as an actor: Sumùsúlat sya nang líham. He (subject) is writing a letter, letters. Sya y pumútol nang káhoy. He (subject) cut some wood. Umalìs syà. He went away. 2. direct passive: the subject is viewed as an object fully affected or produced: Sinúlat nya ang líham. Was-written by-him the letter (subject), i. e. The letter was written by him, He wrote the letter. Pinútol nya ang káhoy. Was-cut by-him the wood (subject), i. e. He cut the wood. 3. instrumental passive: the subject is viewed as a means, an instrument, something given forth or parted from: Isinúlat nya ang kwènto. Was-written-down by-him the story (subject), i. e. He wrote the story. Ipinútol nya ang gúlok. Was-cut-with by-him the bolo (subject), i. e. He used the bolo for cutting, He cut with the bolo. 4. local passive: the subject is viewed as an object partly or less fully affected, as a place or sphere: Sinulátan nya akò. Was-written-to by-him I (subject), i. e. He wrote me. Pinutúlan nya ang káhoy. Was-cut-from by-him the wood (subject), i. e. He cut a piece off the wood. For a detailed description of these classes of transient words, see Morphology. 93. In general the choice between these four constructions is made in accordance with the logical situation: the definite, known object underlying the predication as starting-point of discourse is chosen as subject: Binigyàn nya akò nang aklàt. Was-given-to (local passive) by-him I (enclitic subject) a book, books, i. e. He gave me a book, books. Ibinigay nyà sa ákin ang aklàt. Was-given (instrumental passive) by-him to me the book (subject), i. e. He gave me the book. In the first example the speaker is talking about himself, in the second about a certain book. 94. However, the active construction is avoided whenever any object other than the actor is available as subject. Especially are active constructions with an anaphoric subject (siyà, silà, itò) avoided wherever a passive construction is at hand. Thus, in the instance in § 93, even if "he", the actor, were the real subject of discourse, one would rarely use the active construction: Sya y nagbigày sa ákin nang aklàt. He (subject) gave (active) me a book, books. Even elements which we should look upon as somewhat indefinite are preferred as subjects to an actor: Kinúha nya ang isa ng aklàt. Was-taken (direct passive) by-him a book (subject), i. e. He took a (certain) book (he knew, or I know which one or what kind). The active construction is thus confined to instances in which the object-ideas other than the actor are entirely vague and undetermined or lacking: Umalìs syà. He went away. Sya y kumúha nang aklàt. He took a book, some books (no matter to him or to me which one or what kind). Sumùsúlat sya nang líham. He is writing a letter, letters. Sya y pumútol nang káhoy. He cut some wood. Kumáin sya nang kánin. He ate some boiled rice; but: Kináin nya ang kánin. Was-eaten (direct passive) by him the boiled rice (subject), i. e. He ate the boiled rice. If, in spite of the presence of other definite objects, the actor is very decidedly emphasized, a different construction (§§ 104.107.) is used. (2) Static predicate. 95. The predicate may consist of a static word with its modifiers: Ang bátà ay mabaìt. The child is good. Iyà y masamà`. That's bad, wrong. Pulà ang panyo ng itò. This handkerchief is red. 96. This type of predicate is regular in word-questions: the question word is used as predicate; it precedes the subject: Páno ang pagkágusto ninyò sa trabáho-ng-kanyunéro? How (predicate) your liking for (i. e. How did you like) the artillery-service? Papáno ang pagsasábi sa wíka ng Tagálog nang salità ng Inglès na "scissors"? How (predicate) the saying in the Tagalog language of the English word "scissors"? i. e. How does one say "scissors" in Tagalog? Gaáno ang pagkakagalìt nila? How great, How serious was (predicate) their quarrel? 97. This is the construction of the interrogative pronouns in questions asking for the identity of an object,--unless, indeed, these belong rather under type (3). The interrogative pronouns are the following: (a) síno who? (singular and plural), síno-síno (explicit plural, § 63, end) is used of persons only, and then only when the answer expected is a name or the equivalent; it asks for the identity of a person: Sínu ka? Who are (predicate) you (subject)? Sínu yàn?--Akò. Who's that? i. e. Who's there?--I. Sínu ya ng tumútuktók? Who's that knocking? Síno ang nagbigày sa iyò? Who (predicate) the one-who-gave (sc. it, anaphoric) to you (subject)? i. e. Who gave it to you? Síno ang nagsábi sa iyò? Who told you? Who told you so? Síno sa kanila ng dalawà ang nagnákaw? Which of the two committed the theft? The two are known by name or, at any rate, as personalities. Síno-síno sa manga báta` ang iyo ng nàhúle sa panguumìt? Which ones of the children (predicate) did you catch pilfering? literally: the ones caught by you at pilfering, subject. (b) anò what? what kind of? how?, explicit plural anò-anò, asks for the identity of a thing or for the description, character, condition of a person or of a thing: Ano yàn?--Itò y librò. What (predicate) is that you have there (subject)?--This is a book. An yòn?--Yo y súnog. What's that over there?--It's a fire. Anò ang ngálan mo? What is your name? Ano ang sábi mo? What do you say? Ano ang íbig mo? What do you want? Ano-anò ang pinagsabè ni Hwàn sa iyò? What things did Juan tell you?, literally: What things (predicate) the things said by Juan to you? Anu kà? What sort of person are you? Anò ang lagày nang manga báta`?... nang asáwa mo? ... nang mé báhay? What (or How) is the condition of (i. e. How are) the children? ... your husband or wife? ... your wife? (c) alìn which? which one? which ones?, explicit plural alìn-alìn, is used of persons and things; it asks neither for identification (persons, síno; things, anò) nor for characterization (anò), but for indication, by pointing or by description of the place or some other unessential feature, of persons or things: Alìn ang gustu mò? Which one, Which ones do you want? Alìn sa kanila ng dalawà ang nagnákaw? Which of the two (e. g., of these two strange men) committed the theft? Alin-alìn sa manga púnu-ng-káhoy ang iyo ng tinagà`? Which ones of the trees did you cut down? 98. Of the numerative pronouns (§ 66), boò`, ibà, and ilàn (in this use interrogative) are used as static predicates: Itò y buò`. This is entire, complete, unbroken. Hindí ko gusto iyàn; ibà ang áki ng gustò. Not by-me wanted (static predicate) that (subject); different (predicate) that by-me wanted (subject), i. e. I don't want that; what I want is different, I want something else. Ilàn ang manglilígaw? How many are the suitors? 99. Of the modifiers of indefinite quantity (§ 69) several are used as static predicates: Sya y walá na. He is or was gone already. Itò y walà`. This does not take place, does not appear, falls away. Malakì ang súnog. The fire was great. Marámi ang nagsàsábi nitò. Many are they who say this. 100. For the disjunctive forms of personal pronouns and of síno as static predicates, see § 169. For local expressions, see § 211. For entire predications as static predicates, § 112 f., quotations, § 114. (3) Object expression as predicate. 101. If the predicate is an object expression, it may have three different forms: (A) definite, (B) circumlocutory definite, and (C) indefinite. 102. (A) A definite object predicate consists simply of a word or phrase in the object construction (§ 61 ff.); it has therefore the same structure as a subject. Usually this predicate precedes and is emphatic (emotionally dominant): Itò ang áki ng tìráhan. This is (predicate) my dwelling (subject), i. e. Why, it's here I'm at home! 103. The definite object predicate is especially emphatic in sentences that have as subject a transient word (with or without modifiers) in object construction: Si Hwàn ang nagnákaw. It was Juan who did the stealing. Siya rìn ang kanya ng inìíbig. It was he whom she loved. Both nagnákaw and inìíbig are transient. 104. When an emphatic actor cannot be used as subject of a transient predicate (owing to the presence of other definite object ideas, § 94), it is often used as the predicate in this construction,--the transient part of the sentence being put into object construction and used as subject. Thus, if, in the sentence: Itò y ginawá ni Hwàn. This (subject) was-done (direct passive) by Juan, the idea of "Juan", the actor, should become dominant, one would not use the active transient predicate ("Si Hwàn ay gumawá nitò"), for the idea of "this" is too definite to allow of the actor's functioning as subject; one says instead: Si Hwàn ang gumawá nitò. It was Juan who did this, with "Juan" as definite object predicate and the rest of the sentence, objectivized, as subject. So: Siyà ang nagbigày sa ákin nang aklàt. It was he that gave me the (or a) book, books. (cf. § 93). Ikaw ngà` ang nagsábi niyàn. It was you yourself who said that. 105. Less commonly the subject precedes the predicate. In this case the construction is quite normal and unemphatic; if there is a transient element it usually stands in the predicate: Itò y ang áki ng tìráhan. This (subject) is my dwelling. Si Hwàn ay ang nagnákaw. Juan is the one who did the stealing. 106. (B) In the circumlocutory definite object predicate the central element is the pronoun siyà (in this use never enclitic), which is followed by modifiers which express the real content of the predicate. In this use siyà may apply to inanimate objects and to two or more objects (§ 63). The subject, which has always a moderate degree of emphasis, usually precedes: Itò ay sya kò ng tìráhan. This is what is my home, i. e. This is where I live. In most cases the real content of the predicate is a transient word (with or without modifiers): Si Pédro ay sya ng tumútuktòk. Pedro is the one (siyà) who is knocking. (Less emphatic than the violently transposed Si Pédro ang tumútuktòk. It's Pedro who is knocking, of type A). Ang pagkátahol nang áso ay syà ng ikinágising nang báta`. The barking of the dog is what woke up the child. Ang manga pangparikìt ay sya kò ng pinamutúlan. The kindlings are what I have cut up. Occasionally the predicate precedes: Baká sya ng ikapútol nang pinggà ang kabigatàn nang buhángin. Perhaps that which may break the carrying-pole (predicate) the weight of the sand (subject), i. e. See that the weight of the sand doesn't break the carrying-pole. 107. This construction, like that of type (A), is often used when a transient predicate is not permissible with an actor-subject; here, however, the sentence is not, as in (A), reversed, but the actor is used as subject and the rest of the sentence as true content of the circumlocutory predicate: Si Hwàn ay syà ng gumawá nito. Juan is the one who did this. Si Pédro ay syà ng nagbigày sa ákin nang aklàt. Pedro is the person who gave me the book. 108. A predicate of this type may, in its entirety and as a unit, be objectivized with ang and used as subject of a sentence of type (A): Ang médiko lámang ay sya nyà ng màkàkatálo. The doctor alone will be the one to oppose him (literally: he by-him who will-be-opposed, direct passive): Ang médiko lámang ang sya nyà ng màkàkatálo. It is the doctor alone who will be the one to oppose him. Ang bintána ng iyàn ang syà ng kahùhulúgan nang báta`! It's that window that will be the place where the child will fall out! 109. (C) The indefinite object predicate has the structure of an object expression, but lacks ang (§ 68). In meaning it corresponds, roughly, to an English noun-predicate without the: Itò y librò. This (subject) is a book (predicate). Yo y súnog. That's a fire. Itò y mabúti ng librò. This is a good book. Si Hwàn ay isa ng magnanákaw. Juan is a thief. Masípag na táo itò. Industrious people (predicate) these (subject), i. e. These are industrious people. 110. As indefinite object predicates occur especially the expressions of indefinite quantity (§ 69). In this use they have possessive value: Sya y máy famílya. He has a family. May ápat na pu ng paà ang hába`. Having forty feet (predicate) the length (subject), i. e. The length is about forty feet. Sya y máy-roo ng aklàt. He has a book, books. Sya y wala ng aklàt. He has no book, no books. Sya y marámi ng salapè`. He has much money. Hindí maláo ng panahòn ang kanya ng paghihimatày. Her fainting-spell did not last long. Itò y malakì ng kagamitàn. This has great use, is much used. It is to be noted that all the modifiers of indefinite quantity, except máy, which is pretonic, are orthotonic and therefore followed by an enclitic subject (§ 89): Máy-roon sya ng aklàt. He has no book. But: May dalawà sya ng anàk. He has two children. d. Subordinate predications. 111. An entire predication may be used as subject, predicate, or attribute in a longer sentence. The use of such subordinate predications is, however, limited (as opposed, e. g., to English usage) by the habit of freely using transient words (with their modifiers) as attributes: ang súpot nang kwaltà na kanila ng ibinigày pagdáka sa kanila ng magúlang the bag of money by-them given at once to their parents, i. e. ... which they gave.... It is limited, further, by the freedom of omitting anaphoric elements (§ 87): Ang púno` ay tumúbo hanggàng sa magbúnga. The tree grew until (sc. it, subject) bore fruit. 112. Predications as predicates occur very frequently. Ang ginawá nya ay umalìs sya. That done by-him (subject) was went-away he (predication, as predicate), i. e. What he did was, he went away. Ang mabúti ay itápun nilà ang manga báta`. The best thing (to do) was that they should abandon the children. Ang ísip ko y balat lámang nang itlòg itò. My thought was (i. e. I thought) this was only an egg-shell. 113. Especially common is a whole predication as a predicate describing or characterizing the subject: Ang kúba ay mahína` ang katawàn. The hunchback was: weak was his body, i. e. was weak of body. Ang ikapitu ng báta` ay hindí kináin ang kanya ng tinápay. The seventh child was: not was-eaten his bread, i. e. did not eat his bread. Ang isa nyà ng anàk ay pitò nà ng taòn ang gúlang. His one child was now seven years of age. This construction, together with the use of impersonal expressions (§ 84) makes possible such a sentence as: Ang manga karitòn ... ay gabì kung ipalákad. The wagons ... were: it-was-night when (sc. they, anaphoric subject) were-made-to-go, i. e. The wagons were driven at night. 114. Direct quotations as predicates are frequent: "Isà!" ang sábi nang bulàg. "One!" was what the blindman said. "Túnay bagà ng akò y inìíbig mo?" ang tanòng nang dalága ni Andrès sa kanyà. "Is it really true that you love me?" was the question of Andrés' young lady to him. 115. A predication as subject is rare: Mabúti táyo y dumoòn sa isa ng lugàr.... It is best (predicate) that we go to a place.... Hindí bihíra` ang manga táo y nanghùhúle nang buhày na unggò`. It is not rare that people go catching live monkeys. It will be noted that these predications are not objectivized, cf. § 88. 116. Occasionally, however, the predication used as subject is objectivized: Hindí bihíra` ang magkalunòd ang manga táo. It is not rare that people get drowned, or The occurrence that people get drowned is not rare. Súkat nà ang ikàw ay magpasalámat. It is fitting now that you be thankful. 117. For predications as attributes see the section on attribution. e. Omission of predicate. 118. The use of a predicate, or of the central element of a predicate is (like that of any other element, § 87) optional when, if used, it would be anaphoric: (Si Hwàn namàn ay sumagòt: "Matàr!" at sa hulè) si Andrès ang kanya ng "Sì!" (Then Juan answered "Matar!" and last) Andrés his "Si!" The form of the sentence with the predicate (which is anaphoric from the preceding sumagòt answered) would be: ... si Andrès ay isinagòt ang kanya ng "Sì!" ... Andrés was: was-answered his "Si!", i. e. Andrés answered his "Si!",--a sentence of the kind described in § 113. 3. Attributes. 119. We may distinguish four constructions in which an attribute may stand: 1. Conjunctive attribution: the attribute is joined by means of the particle na or ng: isa ng táo a person, one person; 2. Disjunctive attribution: the attribute, which is always an object expression, stands in a special disjunctive form, ang, for instance, being changed to nang: ang púno nang unggò` the tree of the monkey; 3. Local attribution: the attribute, which is always an object expression, stands in a special local form, ang, for instance, being always changed to sa: nalìlígo sa ílog bathing in the river; 4. Absolute attribution: the attribute merely precedes or follows: hindí táma` not correct. In a sense the last three constructions, which do not employ the particle na, ng, stand opposed to the first, which does. Constructions 2 and 3 make it possible to speak, in a very wide sense, of three "cases" in which an object expression may stand: "subjective" ang ílog the river, "disjunctive" nang ílog of the river, and "local" sa ílog in the river; but it is to be observed that these "cases" are not confined to any class of words, but appear in any word or phrase when it stands in the object construction. [7] 120. In position attributes may be: A. Loosely joined. In this position occur only attributes of a predicate (or of an entire non-predicative sentence). Their treatment resembles that of a non-enclitic subject (§ 89): they either precede the rest of the sentence with ay, y, or follow at the end of the sentence: Doòn ay syà y nahigà`. There (doòn, loosely joined) he lay down. Nahánap ko nà ang sombréro sa lahàt nang súlok. I have looked for the hat in every corner. The phrase beginning with sa is loosely joined; it follows all the rest of the sentence, including even the subject, ang sombréro. In the placing of enclitics a loosely joined attribute is ignored: Pagulàn ay gamítin mo ang kapóte. When it rains use your rain-coat. The enclitic mò follows the first orthotonic word of the predicate (which it modifies), not counting the loosely joined pagulàn. When a loosely joined attribute precedes, the ay, y is in some cases left off: Dahil díto tináwag nya ang kaybígan nya. Therefore he called his friend. The position of the enclitic niyà shows that dahil díto is loosely joined, but ay, y is not used. Occasionally a loosely joined attribute is preceded by the subject and only one ay, y is used: Karanyúwa y ang kosinéro y upahàn. Usually (loosely joined) the cook is hired; but also: Ang kosinéro karanyúwa y upahàn. B. Closely joined. The attribute immediately precedes or follows that modified: hindí táma` not correct; ang púno nang unggò` the tree of the monkey. C. Enclitic. They follow immediately on the first word of the expression modified, counting closely joined attributes, but not loosely joined: Hindí ko nàlàláman. Not by-me (it) is-known, i. e. I don't know. ang mahahába nya ng paà his (niyà enclitic) long legs. 121. Some attributes always precede (so e. g. hindì`, § 239); others always follow (so, for instance, disjunctive attributes, § 171). a. Conjunctive attributes. 122. A conjunctive attribute is connected with the word or phrase which it modifies by the atonic particle na. Normally ng takes the place of na after a vowel, n, or the glottal stop (see Phonetics): mabúti ng aklàt good book, or: aklàt na mabúti. However, na and ng are not exactly equivalent. Predications, longer phrases, and, frequently, transient expressions are joined with na even where ng is possible: isa ng malakì ng higànte na nalìlígo` a big giant who was bathing. On the other hand, some constructions use na rarely or not at all: where ng cannot be used the particle is then omitted and we have absolute attribution. These constructions will be described under the latter heading. In the formation of compound words (see Morphology) na is never used, while ng is a regular element. This latter circumstance sometimes makes it difficult to determine whether a given expression is a conjunctive phrase or a compound word. 123. Conjunctive attributes are closely joined and either precede or follow; for this reason it is sometimes undetermined which of the elements connected is the attribute, which the element modified. 124. The elements connected by conjunctive attribution are viewed as constituting a single larger element. Conjunctive attribution is the normal and general relation between modifier and modified and includes relations that in many other languages (such as English) are viewed in manifold ways. We may divide the construction roughly into three types, although these actually merge into each other: (1) quality, (2) manner, and (3) complement. Not included in this division are the cases where conjunctive attribution alternates with absolute (§ 122), which will be treated of under the latter heading, and a type which in meaning is so closely parallel with disjunctive attribution that it will be more economical to treat it under this head (§§ 165.168). (1) Conjunctive attributes of quality. 125. Conjunctive attributes of the quality type are used chiefly in object expressions. They have no fixed order: ang mabúti ng aklàt the (a) good book, or: ang aklàt na mabúti. ang sumùsúlat na báta` the writing child, the child that is writing, or: ang báta ng sumùsúlat. 126. When they precede a personal name the whole expression is preceded by ang, but when they follow si suffices: ang báta ng si Hwàn the child Juan, little Juan, si Hwà ng Talúnan Juan who is always defeated (as a nickname). 127. Conjunctive attributes of quality tend to precede when they are emphatic or in contrast; when fixed they tend to follow: Ang marúnong na pagòng at ang ulòl na unggò`. The clever turtle and the foolish monkey. Si Hwà ng Pípe ay nàkíta námin sa tulày. We saw Dumb Juan on the bridge. ang báo ng babáye the lower half of the cocoanut shell, ang báo ng malambòt the soft shell of the cocoanut, ang wíka ng Kastíla` the Spanish language. Especially those expressing material tend to follow: ang báhay na batò a stone house, ang koróna ng tinìk a crown of thorns, ang atsára ng papáya papaw salad, pickled papaw, ang tinóla ng manòk chicken stew, ang sáko ng pálay a sack of rice. A modifier expressing the special kind always follows: ang sála ng pagnanákaw the crime which is (i. e. of) theft, ang bísyo ng paginòm the vice of drinking, ang larò ng taguàn the game which consists of hiding, the game of hide-and-seek, kanína ng umága a little while ago in the morning, i. e. this morning, ilà ng óras na pagsasàlitáan a few hours of conversation, ang bandà ng kataasàn (or: itaàs) the direction (which is) north, i. e. the north; so: ang bandà ng kababáan (or: ibabà`) the south, silángan (or: sìlangánan) the east, kalunúran the west, ang gawì ng kánan the right-hand side, kaliwà` the left. 128. Titles and the like precede: ang báo ng si Maryà the widow Maria. 129. The personal pronouns precede their conjunctive attributes: sila ng tatlò they three, Si Pédro ay syà ng tumútuktòk. Pedro is the one who is knocking (§ 106 ff.). 130. The demonstrative pronouns as conjunctive attributes usually follow: ang táo ng itò this person, this man, ang tatlò ng itò these three, Ang korbáta ng irè ay bágo. This necktie is new. Occasionally, however, they precede, especially with a longer expression. In this case ang is not used (§ 64, end): ito ng súpot ko nang kwàlta this bag of money of mine; iyo ng úna ng kumalabòg that first thing which made a thud; Itò ng báhay ang binili kò. This house is what I bought, It's this house I've bought, This is the house I've bought (§ 102 ff.). Under emphasis the demonstrative pronoun may both precede and follow: ito ng táo ng itò this man here, iyo ng táo ng yaòn that man over there. 131. The interrogative pronouns precede; ang is not used (§ 65). See also kaníno, § 168. The meanings of the interrogative pronouns as conjunctive attributes are: síno which? (of several known people): sínu ng táo? which one? which ones? alìn which? (of several known things): alì ng lugàr which place, which places? alì ng bandà? which way? (e. g. at a cross-roads) alì ng manga búnga? which fruits? which ones of the fruits? anò what? what kind of? (of persons or things not known), also, in exclamations, what...! what great...! Anu ng ílog itò? What river is this? ano ng bandà? what direction? which way? (of all possible points of the compass) anu ng táo what sort of a person? what sort of people? who? Ano ng hína`! What weakness! 132. The numerative pronouns mostly precede, and the use of ang is optional (§ 66, end); ibà other, however, requires ang when, as conjunctive attribute, it begins an object phrase. Of the others, karamíhan most and the particle báwat every are not used in this construction, and lahàt all occurs only as modifier of the personal pronouns, which (by § 129) precede. The particle bála any, on the other hand, occurs only as conjunctive attribute: ang iba ng báhay the other house, another house, sila ng lahàt they all, all of them, bála ng táo any person, anyone, ang bála ng táo any one (of a given group), boò ng báyan all the town, everybody in town, ang boò ng báyan the entire town, everybody in the town, ilà ng táo ng matalíno a few intelligent men, ang ilà ng sandalè` a few moments. 133. The cardinal numerals usually precede; ang is optional (§ 67): isa ng itlòg one egg, an egg; ang isa ng itlòg the one egg. 134. The tens, hundreds, etc. of the cardinal numerals are always modified by isà one or a higher unit. The phrase so formed precedes that counted. The higher numerals are: pù` ten, daàn, raàn hundred, líbo thousand, laksà` million, yúta` billion: isa ng pù ng táo, sà m pu ng táo ten men, ápat na raà ng báhay four-hundred houses. 135. The teens are expressed by labì preceding the simple numerals as conjunctive modifier: labì ng isà ng aklàt eleven books, labì ng tatlò ng áraw thirteen days. 136. The Spanish numerals, however, (used in dates, § 67) follow: ang taò ng míle-nobisyèntos-dòs the year 1902. 137. saríle self (see § 175) is used as a conjunctive attribute in the sense of own: Walá sya ng saríli ng baìt. He has no self-respect (literally: own respect). 138. Of the modifiers that form expressions of indefinite quantity all except máy precede as conjunctive attributes; for examples see § 69 f. In object expressions maláon, malakì and marámi do not differ from normal conjunctive attributes; examples in § 70. 139. Expressions of indefinite quantity as units may stand in conjunctive attribution. They then have possessive value: ang háre ng may súngay the king who had horns; ang kapútol na wala ng dáhon the part without leaves. 140. Conjunctive attribution includes many cases which in English would be envisaged rather as appositions of two objects: ang báta ng si Hwàn the boy Juan, si Hwà ng Bíbas Juan the Jester, Sya y may tánga ng pamálo`. He has hold of a stick. Tángan that grasped, thing grasped is conjunctive attribute of pamálo` club, stick. ang magának na sina Bantòg the Bantog family, tatlò ng magkakayibíga ng estudyànte ng magkababáyan three friends (ng) students (ng) fellow-townsmen, i. e. three student friends from the same town; ang tatlú ng magkakaybíga ng si Pédro, si Hwàn, at si Andrès the three friends, Pedro, Juan, and Andrés; ang salità ng "bámos" the word "vamos". 141. When a longer expression is used as a conjunctive attribute of quality, it usually follows, and na is often preferred to ng: ang parúsa na hindí mo gustò the punishment not by-you liked, i. e. the punishment you don't like; isà ng usà ng nangìngináin sa gúbat a deer grazing in the jungle; ang isà (sa manga kaybígan nilà) na sya ng magíging hukòm one (of their friends) who will be judge; cf. the predicates described in § 106. ang manga kúra na sya ng manga maliliìt na háre` the priests (who are) those (who are) little kings, i. e. the priests, those veritable little kings. 142. An object expression is frequently followed by an entire predication of the type described in § 113, as conjunctive attribute: Ang tagahúle ay isa ng táo ng ang katungkúlan ay humúle nang ano màn o síno màn. A catcher is a person (whose) duty is to catch anything or anyone. ang manga púno-ng-káhoy na masasaràp ang búnga trees (whose) fruits are tasty; isa ng táo ng malakì ang kapangyaríhan a person (whose) power is great. (2) Conjunctive attributes of manner. 143. Conjunctive attributes of manner precede or follow. When they precede a predicate they stand as the first orthotonic word and are immediately followed by enclitics (such as an enclitic subject pronoun, § 89), after which comes the na or ng, and then the central element of the predicate: Syà y mabúte ng tumugtòg. She plays (music) well. This example illustrates the identity of conjunctive attributes of manner and of quality, for mabúte ng tumugtòg may be looked upon indifferently as a transient predicate (§ 92) with mabúte well as attribute of manner, or as an indefinite object predicate (§ 109) a good player, in which mabúte good is an attribute of quality. Other forms of the same sentence are: Mabúti sya ng tumugtòg. (siyà enclitic), Syà y tumugtòg na mabúti. So further: Isípin mo ng mabúti. Consider it well. Literally: Be-considered by-you (mò enclitic) well. Iyòn ay tùtúbo na mabúti. It will grow well. Silà y magkakasáma ng nagsipamarìl. They as-companions (i. e. in company, together) went hunting. Or: They were companion (quality) hunters. Madalí sya ng tumakbò. Quickly he ran. Talagà ng mahigpìt ang tapòn nang bóte ng iyàn. The stopper of that bottle is certainly tight. Mahigpìt tight, as central element of the predicate, is modified by talagà fated, by fate, by nature, certainly. Putikà ng dumatìng si Salamìn sa báhay. "Mirror" (as name of a dog) came home all muddy. Or: ... was a muddy comer. Paputòl nya ng tinagà` ang bisìg ni Hwàn. He cut Juan's arm transversely. Kinalaykay kò ng patipòn ang manga sangà ng maliliìt nang káhoy. I raked into-a-heap the twigs of-the trees. 144. A phrase of more than one word usually follows that modified; frequently na is used instead of ng: Nádala nyà na hindí sinásadyà` sa kanya ng pagalìs ang áki ng páyong. Was-taken by-him not intendedly in his departing my umbrella, i. e. In leaving he inadvertently took my umbrella. 145. The numerative pronoun lahàt is used as a conjunctive attribute of manner in the sense of entirely, completely. It follows that modified: Ang manga lalagyàn ay pùnúa ng lahàt. The containers are entirely full. 146. Expressions of indefinite quantity as conjunctive attributes of manner follow: Ang manga táo ay nagtakbúha ng walà ng túto. The people all ran without order, in disorder. 147. The particles lubhà` very and lálo` more usually precede: Lubhà ng malakì ang gálit ni Pédro. Pedro's wrath was very great. Lálu ng lumakì ang kanya ng gálit. His wrath grew still greater. 148. The particle mulí` again follows: Tátakbo sya ng mulì`. He will run again. Ang kamakalawà ay hindí na dárating na mulè`. The day before yesterday will never come again. 149. A conjunctive attribute of manner may express the time throughout which: Syà y nanggupìt at nangáhit na maláo ng panahòn. He did hair-cutting and shaving for a long time. Silà y nagtítira na tatlu ng áraw. They stay three days. May ila ng bwà ng ang manga útos ay mahihigpìt. For several months (literally: having several months, § 69, end) the orders were strict. 150. A word repeated as its own conjunctive attribute of manner expresses a high degree (intensity): Sya y bingì. He is deaf. Sya y bingì ng bingì. He is stone deaf. Inìt si Pédro. Pedro is hot, is angry. Inìt na inìt si Pédro. Pedro is in a rage. líhim na líhim very secretly, malakì ng malakì very large. (3) Conjunctive attributes as complements. 151. The general sphere of conjunctive attribution includes cases where one element involves another as result or content. The latter follows and is in many instances plainly viewed as the attribute. In some instances, however, the former may just as well be looked upon as a modifier, usually of quality, sometimes also of manner. The transition from these latter types to that of the complement appears, indeed, in all possible stages, and no real boundary can be drawn. Sya y mabúti ng tumugtòg (nang piyáno). She is a good player (of the piano), or She plays (the piano) well,--see § 143--can be analyzed also: She is good that (she, anaphoric subject omitted, § 87) plays the piano; and in some instances this last analysis is the only possible one. Other examples illustrating the merging of the three types we have set up are the following: Malápit na siya ng makatápos nang karéra. He was already near that (he) end his course, i. e. near ending his course, almost through his course; or: a near ender, cf. isa ng báya ng malápit a near-by town. Ang pagmamarúnong ni Hwàn ay ginágawa ng katatawanàn nang manga nakàkàkilála sa kanyà. Juan's pretending to be wise is made fun of by those who know him, literally: ... is-being-made (ginágawà`) that (it) is a laughing-stock, or else: ... a being-made laughing-stock. Cf. ang gawì ng húkay the to-be-made ditch, i. e. the ditch that is to be made, where only the quality interpretation is possible. Magtúlin ka ng lumákad. Walk faster. This can be interpreted as Be a fast walker, or Walk faster, or Be-quick that (you) walk; and this last interpretation comes nearest to the original in so far as magtúlin is an active transient form used in commands rather than an expression suited to an idea of quality or of manner. Sya y nagdàdahilà ng may sakìt. He alleges that (he) is sick. Ang pagsakày sa kabáyo ay hindí magaà ng pagarálan. Riding horseback is not easy that (it) be-learned, i. e. not easy to learn, or: not an easy thing-to-be-learned. ang pinakamahúsay na magsalità` nang Latìn the best that (he) should speak Latin, or: the best speaker of Latin; Hwag kà, Hwàn, pumásuk na sekréta. Don't go as a spy (or to be a spy), Juan. Ginawá nya si Hwàn na barbéro nang háre`. Was-made by-him Juan that (he) be barber of-the king, i. e. He made Juan barber royal. Si Hwàn ay pinamàmagatàn nang marámi na isa ng doktò. Juan is reputed by the people that (he) is (i. e. as) a learned man. 152. The simplest cases are those where both of the expressions connected by na, ng refer to the same person or thing, as in the above examples. The following are less doubtful cases of complement construction of this kind: Nagpùpumílit sya ng màtúto. He strives to get educated. Si Hwàn at si Maryà ay nagkásundo ng pakasàl. Juan and Maria have agreed that they (i. e. to) get married. Inanyáhan silà ni Hwàn na magpasyàl. They were invited by Juan that they (i. e. to) go walking. Maári mo ngà ng ihúlug sa koréyo ang áki ng súlat? Can you please mail my letter? Literally: maári ... ng ihúlug a possible thing-to-be thrown or capable that (it) be thrown. Naàári akò ng malígo makálawa maghápon. I am able that (I) bathe (i. e. to bathe) twice a day. Pinabayáan niya kamì ng umalìs. We were permitted by him to depart. Hinantày nya ng matápus ang mísa. The mass was-awaited by-him that it end, i. e. He waited until the mass was ended. Anò ang gustu mu ng sabíhin? What is desired by-you that (it) be-said? i. e. What do you mean to say? Hindí ko gustò ng màkatálo si Hwàn. Not by-me desired that (he) be-opposed is Juan, i. e. I don't want Juan to be my opponent. 153. Clear cases of the complement construction are those in which the two elements connected refer to different persons or things: Nagyayá sya ng umuwè`. He advised that (they, anaphoric) go home. (34, 12.) Ang pagkámasìd nya sa lángit ay syà ng nagpakilála sa kanyà na úulàn. His glance at the sky was what showed him that (it, see § 84) was going to rain. 154. When the former of the two elements is an object expression (or similar element) the complement construction is evident: ang kaibigà ng màtúto the desire that (he) get educated, i. e. the desire to get an education. ang pagkágusto nyà na kumáin nang nyòg his desire that (he) should-eat cocoanuts, i. e. to eat.... Anu ng tagàl nya ng sumísid! What endurance of-him that (he) stay under water! i. e. How long he stays under water! Ano ng hína mo ng lumákad! What slowness of-you that (you) walk! i. e. How slowly you walk! Ang tagasulsè ay isa ng babáye ng may katungkúla ng manahì` o manulsè nang manga púnit nang damìt. A darning-woman is a woman having the duty that (she) patch or mend the small holes in clothing, i. e. ... whose duty is to.... 155. A further sign that the speech-feeling envisages the complement construction as different from the constructions of quality or manner appears when enclitics follow the first word of the complement (i. e. of the second of the connected elements) rather than the first word of the sentence: this shows that the complement is viewed as a relatively independent element within the sentence: Maári ngà ng ihúlug mo sa koréyo ang áki ng súlat? Should-be-capable that (it) be-thrown by-you into the mail (predicate) my letter (subject)? i. e. Can you please mail my letter? Cf. under § 152 above. 156. Very frequently the complement is an entire predication: ang panukála` na ang púno` ay tùtúbo` the thought that the tree will grow; pagkátanaw nyà na dumárating ang susò` (at the) seeing by-him i. e. when he sees that the snail is arriving; ang áraw na kayò ay dápat magsipagsísi the day that (i. e. when) you ought to repent; Nagkàkapálad ang manùnúbok na màkíta nya ang kúlam. The spier has the good fortune that be-seen by-him the magic principle, i. e. ... to see.... 157. A predication as complement is often parallel with a disjunctive object modifier, i. e. with an object expression used as direct, instrumental, or local object (§ 184 ff.): Sya y nagsábi ng sya y marúnong gumupìt nang buhòk. He said that he knew how to cut hair. Ang bulàg ay nagakála ng gawì ng katatawanàn ang pagkahúlog nang kúba`. The blindman thought that the falling of the hunchback should be made (sc. niyà by-him, anaphoric) that (it) be a laughing-stock, i. e. decided to make fun of the falling ...; that which one says or thinks, with sábi and akála`, is also expressed as a direct object. 158. Similarly, predications as complements are, in impersonal constructions, parallel with a subject: Sinábi nya ng sya y marúnong gumupìt nang buhòk. Was-said by-him that he was able to cut hair, i. e. He said he knew how to cut hair. Hindí bihíra` na ang isa ng táo y pamagatà ng médiko-ng-mangkukúlam. It is not rare that a man is reputed as a witch-doctor. Cf. the example of predication as subject in § 116. Hinilìng nya sa unggò` na dikdikìn sya sa lusòng. It was begged by him of the monkey that he be brayed in the mortar, i. e. He begged the monkey to bray him in the mortar. Pinabayáan niya na kamì y umalìs. It was allowed by him that we depart, i. e. He allowed us to depart, a less usual form than that in § 152. Totoo ngá na akò y naparoòn sa Balíwag. It is true that I went to Baliwag. Maàári pú ba ng kayò y maghintò`? Will it be possible please that you should stop? i. e. Can you please stop? Inísip nya ng magnákaw sa isa ng tindáhan. It was planned by him that (he) rob a shop, i. e. He planned to.... Iniyútus nya ng humúkay. It was ordered by him that (one, see § 86) should dig, i. e. He ordered people to dig. Hindí mo gustò ng màhúle ka. Not by-you it-is-desired that you be-caught, i. e. You don't want to be caught. 159. A direct quotation may have the same construction as a predication: Sinábi nya ng "Bámos!" It-was-said by-him, namely "Vamos!" i. e. He said "Vamos!" b. Disjunctive attributes. 160. Only object expressions are used as disjunctive attributes, and all object expressions have a special form for this use. 161. Those beginning with ang substitute for this particle the atonic particle nang: ang púno nang unggò` the tree of the monkey, ang laruwàn nang báta ng si Hwàn the toy of the boy Juan; little Juan's toy, toys. 162. Those beginning with si (§§ 59. 126) substitute for this the atonic particle ni; those beginning with sinà (or silà, § 60) substitute nilà (or ninà), pretonic: ang amà ni Hwàn Juan's father, ang báhay nila Hwàn the house of Juan and his family. 163. The personal pronouns as disjunctive attributes take the following forms: kò my, nità of us two, nátin our (inclusive), námin our (exclusive); mò thy, niniyò, ninyò your; niyà, nyà his, her, nilà their. The monosyllabic forms kò and mò are always enclitic, the others usually: Hindí ko nàlàláman. I don't know, literally: Not by-me (it) is-known. ang báhay nya his, her house, ang mahahába nya ng paà his long legs, ang hindí karanyúwa ng talíno nyà his unusual talents (niyà not enclitic). 164. When these enclitics meet an enclitic subject, they precede, unless by the general rule (§ 47) the monosyllabic subject kà precedes a disyllabic disjunctive (including niyà, nyà): Saàn mo sya nàkíta? Where by-you he was-seen? i. e. Where did you see him? Binigyàn nya akò nang aklàt. Was-given by-him I a book, i. e. He gave me a book. Baká mo iyàn màbúlag. Perhaps by-you it might-be-blinded, i. e. See that you don't blind it. Hindí ka námin dinatnàn. Not you by-us were found-there, i. e. We did not find you in. 165. The personal pronouns have another form, which is used as a conjunctive attribute of quality (cf. § 124, end) and always precedes that modified: its meaning, however, is the same as that of the disjunctive forms just given. These prepositive forms are: ákin my, kanità thy and my, átin our (inclusive), ámin our (exclusive); iyò thy, iniyò, inyò your; kaniyà, kanyà his, her, kanilà their, kaní-kanilà their respective, several, various. Examples: Anò ang iyo ng ngálan? What is your name? or: Anò ang ngálan mo? ang áki ng amà my father, or: ang ama kò, ang kanya ng báhay his, her house, ang kanyà ng mahahába ng paà his long legs, ang kanità ng kwaltà our money (i. e. thine and mine), ang kaní-kanilà ng báhay their several houses. Only a demonstrative pronoun modifier precedes these prepositive forms: iyà ng iyo ng sambalílo ng lúma` that old hat of yours. Exceptions are rare: ang karanyúwa ng kanila ng kantahìn their usual song; what they usually sing. 166. The demonstrative pronouns, whether standing alone (§ 64) or as modifiers at the beginning of an object expression (§ 130), have the following disjunctive forms: nirè of this (right here), nitò of this, niyàn, nyàn of that, niyòn, nyòn, noòn of that (over there). Ang kúlay nirì ng korbáta ng irè ay nàpàpagítan sa itèm at sa pulà. The color of this necktie (I have on) is between black and red. ang dúlo nitò the end of this, ang anàk niyòn that one's child (e. g. with pointing gesture), ang báhay niyo ng táo ng yaòn the house of that man over there, ang anàk noo ng táo ng iyòn the child of that man over there. The form noòn is used chiefly when the disjunctive attribute expresses time (§ 192). 167. The interrogative pronoun síno, whether used alone or standing first in an object expression as attribute (§ 131), has the disjunctive form níno whose? This form, however, is little used, for, while the interrogative pronoun is usually emphatic and tends to come first (§ 96), a disjunctive attribute follows that modified (§ 171). Hence the form níno is used only under peculiar conditions of emphasis: Ang sambalílo níno? Whose hat (did you say)? Ibinigày sa iyò níno? Given to you by whom? Sinábi sa iyo níno? Told to you by whom? 168. Instead of níno a prepositive form, kaníno, explicit plural kaní-kaníno, is ordinarily used; like the prepositive forms of the personal pronouns it stands in conjunctive attribution and precedes that modified. Before it the use of ang is optional (§§ 65.131); when ang is used the expression is more definite: Kaníno ng sambalílo? Whose hat? (the ownership of a given hat is inquired after) Ang kaníno ng sambalílo? Whose hat? (the ownership of each hat is known; the question asks merely which of them is involved) Kaníno ng aklàt iyàn? Whose book have you there? 169. The prepositive forms of the personal pronouns and of síno are used also as static predicates expressing possession: Ang librò ng binàbása mo kahápon ay ákin. The book you were reading last night is mine. Kaníno ang aklàt na iyàn? Whose is that book? Kaní-kaníno ang manga báhay na itò? Whose are these houses? The personal pronouns may be followed by saríle own (cf. § 137): Ang laruwà ng itò y áki ng saríle. This toy is my own. 170. All other expressions which lack ang,--that is, the remaining interrogative pronouns, the numerative pronouns, the cardinal numerals, and object expressions in which these as modifiers stand first (§ 131 ff.),--prefix nang, atonic, when used as disjunctive attributes: Sa itaàs nang anò? On top of what? Takìp nang alì ng kahòn itò? Of which box is this the cover? ang panukálà nang karamíhan the opinion of the majority; Nakàkíta akò nang isa ng táo. I saw a man. 171. All disjunctive attributes are closely joined and follow that which they modify. The only exceptions are the enclitic pronoun forms and expressions of time (§ 192). A disjunctive attribute precedes a subject: Binigyàn nya nang aklàt si Hwàn. He gave Juan some books. When the subject is enclitic, it of course precedes: Binigyàn nya si Hwàn nang aklàt. Real exceptions, in which a non-enclitic subject precedes a disjunctive attribute, are not common: Ipinakìkipagpútol ni Hwàn si Pédro nang labòng. Juan is asking someone to cut some bamboo-shoots for Pedro. 172. In meaning disjunctive attribution includes almost all cases in which an object element is viewed as the attribute of another element in the sentence. The only exception is the sphere of relations expressed by local attribution (§ 195 ff.). The meanings may, very roughly, be divided into seven groups: (1) possessive-partitive, (2) agent, (3) direct object, (4) instrumental object, (5) local object, (6) manner, (7) time. 173. (1) Possessive-partitive modifier: ang kanya ng báhay, ang báhay nya his house, ang púno nang unggò` the tree of the monkey, ang púno nang káhoy the tree (literally head of wood), ang púno nang ságing the banana-tree, Sa itaàs nang anò? On top of what? Nasúnog ang kalahátì nang púno`. Half of the tree got burned up. Ang báyad sa útang ni Pédro ay lábis nang dalawà ng píso. The payment made to settle Pedro's debt is too great by two pesos. ang óras nang alaskwátro the hour of four o'clock, Isà ng sundálo ng marúnung nang Latìn. A soldier who knew Latin, literally: having-knowledge of Latin. ang sáko nang pálay a rice-sack (cf. § 127), ang larú nang baráha a game of cards, cf. ang larò ng taguàn (§ 127) a game consisting of hiding, hide-and-seek, ang katapusàn nang gabì the end of the night; cf. ang katapusà ng gabì the night which was the end, the last night, ang ilà ng sandalì nang pagsasàlitáan a few moments of the conversation; cf. ang ilà ng sandalì ng pagsasàlitáan a few moments (which consisted) of conversation. Note: ang báyan nang Balíwag the town of Baliwag, ang provìnsya nang Pampànga the province of Pampanga. 174. The pronoun lahàt as an object expression is followed by this kind of attribute: lahàt nang táo all (of) the people. 175. As an object expression saríle self is modified by disjunctive pronouns: ang kanyà ng saríle his self. Similarly saríle as conjunctive attribute, in the sense of own: Walá sya ng baìt sa kanya ng saríli. He does not do even himself any good. ang saríle nila ng bànda nang músika their own band of music; Ang kanya ng saríli ng barìl ang kanya ng ginámit. It was his own gun he used, What he used was his own gun. Cf. §§ 137 and 169, end. 176. The modifier may be an entire predication: sa lugàr nang magkasirá silà in place of the (occurrence that) they should become enemies, i. e. instead of their becoming enemies. 177. Here belongs further the disjunctive attribute with words expressing association, companionship, or equality: Si Hwána ay siyà ng kabùlúngan ni Maryà. Juana is the one with whom Maria is whispering. Ang mésa ng itò ay kasingkúlay nang kahòn. This table is of the same color as the chest. Si Hwàn ay kapantày ni Pédro. Juan is of the same height as Pedro. Kalákip nang súlat ko ng itò ay limà ng píso. Enclosed with this my letter are five pesos. gáya ko like me. 178. Similar is the use of a disjunctive modifier expressing one of the objects, with expressions involving dual or plural ideas: silà ni Maryà they with Maria, i. e. Maria and he (88,42), silà ng dalawà ni Maryà (92,17). 179. Here belongs the disjunctive attribute in exclamatory sentences expressing the high degree of a quality; these are formed with anò (§ 131) and with words with prefix ka- (§ 76): Ano ng hína mo! What weakness of-you! i. e. How weak you are! Anu ng luwàt nang hindí nya pagdatìng! What duration of his not arriving! i. e. How long he is getting here! Kapulà nang panyo ng iyòn! What-great-redness of that handkerchief! i. e. How red that handkerchief is! Karúnong nang báta ng si Hwàn! How much little Juan knows! Kaytipìd na báta` ni Hwàn! How-saving a child of Juan! i. e. What an economical boy Juan is! 180. In the preceding and related constructions the attribute may be an entire predication: Kamuntí nang màtamaàn ang báta`! What-little-lack of the (occurrence that) the child should-be-hit! i. e. How near the child came to being hit! Muntí nang máliguwak ang dala nyà ng pulòt. Little-wanting of-the (occurrence that) should-be-spilled the borne by-him honey, i. e. The honey he was carrying came near being spilled. 181. (2) A disjunctive attribute expressing the agent corresponds in sense to the subject of an active transient predicate. When it modifies a transient word, the corresponding active can be formed: Sinúlat nya ang líham. He wrote the letter; literally: Was-written by-him (agent) the letter. Isinúlat nya ang kwènto. He wrote down the story. Sinulátan nya akò. He wrote to me. The corresponding active is: Syà y sumúlat.... He wrote.... Cf. § 92. So further: Pinútol nya ang káhoy. The wood was cut by him; active: Syà y pumútol nang káhoy. He cut some wood. Kinúha nya ang librò. The book was taken by him; active: Syà y kumúha nang librò. He took some book. Áki ng binitíwan ang bóte. By-me was-let-go-of the bottle, i. e. I let go of the bottle; active: Bumitìw akò.... Ang hiniràm nya ng kampìt ay iyo ng kúnin. The borrowed by-him (agent) kitchen-knife by-you (agent) is to be taken, i. e. Take the kitchen-knife he borrowed. When the word modified is not transient no clear line can be drawn between disjunctive attributes of agent and of possessor: ang kanyà ng pagdatìng his arrival, his arriving, or: the arriving by him, ang gámit nya ng librò the book used by him, ang paupó ni Hwà ng sùgálan the gambling-party invited by Juan, ang dala nyà ng pulòt the honey he is or was carrying, Ang larò ng taguàn ay gustò nang manga báta`. The game of hide-and-seek is liked by children. Hindí ko gustò ang librò ng itò; ibà ang áki ng gustò. I don't want this book; it is a different one I want. 182. When disjunctive agent is the speaker (kò by me or its substitute áki ng) and the subject is the person addressed (ikàw, kà thou), the pronoun kità usually takes the place of both. This is the commoner value of kità (cf. § 63): Sùsungangáin kità. I'll smash your face; the subject of this direct passive expression is the person addressed, the agent the speaker: Ikàw ay áki ng sùsungangáin would be an unidiomatic equivalent. Ipaglálaba kità nang damìt. I shall wash your clothes for you. The predicate is instrumental passive, with you, the person for whom, as subject. Hàhatdan kità nang gátas. I shall deliver milk to you; local passive. Occasionally the agent is redundantly added: Kità ay áki ng parùrusáhan. I shall punish you. 183. A disjunctive agent is used with the words expressing recent completion of an act with prefix ka- and reduplication: (§ 77): Karárating ko pa lámang! I have only just arrived. Kakàkáin ko pa lámang! I have only just finished eating. 184. (3) A disjunctive attribute expressing the direct object corresponds to the subject of a direct passive transient predicate: Sya y kumáin nang kánin. He ate some boiled rice. Passive: Kináin nya ang kánin. Was-eaten by-him the boiled rice, i. e. He ate the boiled rice. It will be seen that when the direct object is definite it is more likely to serve as subject of a passive predicate (§ 94); hence the disjunctive attribute expressing a direct object has often an indefinite partitive value. Syà y sumúlat nang líham. He wrote some letters. Syà y pumútol nang káhoy. He cut some wood. Bigyàn mo akò niyà ng túbig. Give me some of that water. Katátagpi ko niyòn! I have just finished mending that! Sya y naghintày nang sàsabíhin nang sundálo. He awaited that which was going to be said by the soldier. 185. (4) A disjunctive attribute expressing the instrument corresponds to the subject of an instrumental passive transient predicate: Syà y sumúlat nang kwènto. He wrote down a story, stories. Passive: Isinúlat nya ang kwènto. Was-written-down by-him the story, i. e. He wrote down the story. The indefinite value of the disjunctive attribute is here due to the same relation as in the preceding type. Pinútol nya nang gúlok ang káhoy. The wood was cut by him with a bolo; instrumental passive: Ipinútol nya nang káhoy ang gúlok. Was-used-for-cutting by-him of wood the bolo, i. e. He cut wood with the bolo. Binigyàn nya akò nang aklàt. He gave me a book. 186. So a direct quotation or an entire predication: Ang bulàg ay sumigàw nang "Tatlò!" The blindman shouted "Three!"; passive: Isinigàw nang bulàg ang "Tatlò!" Ang báwat isa sa kanilà ay sumagòt nang súngay ang kanila ng nàkìkíta. Each one answered that horns were what they saw. 187. (5) Disjunctive attributes of place correspond to the subject of a local passive transient predication: Syà y pumanhìk nang báhay. He entered a house; passive: Pinanhikàn nya ang báhay. He entered the house. Ang pagòng ay nagumpisà nang pagsisigàw. The turtle began (a) shouting; passive: Inumpisahàn nang pagòng ang pagsisigàw. These attributes are in meaning rather close to local attributes (§ 203); as opposed to the latter they are, however, the real correspondents of the subject of a local passive transient predication, expressing a real participation of the object in the action or occurrence,--whereas the local attributes express the place of the action as something more or less unaffected and independent. 188. (6) Disjunctive attributes of manner do not correspond to any kind of subject. When they are used with a transient word the sentence may, however, be reversed so as to make of the attribute a transient predicate of a sentence in which the action (as subject) is spoken of as being "made such and such". Tumakbò sya nang matúlin. He ran fast. The words nang matúlin are the disjunctive form of an object expression, ang matúlin, which would resemble German das schnelle. Our sentence corresponds to: Tinulínan nya ang pagtakbò. Was-made-fast by-him his running, He ran fast. Syà y tumáwa nang malakàs. He laughed aloud, cf. Inilakas nyà ang pagtáwa. He made his laughing loud. ... mànákaw nang hindí nito nàlàláman should be stolen in the manner of not by-him known, i. e. should be stolen without his knowing it. mataàs nang kauntè` higher by a little, a little higher. 189. Expressions of indefinite quantity are used in this way: Silà y nagtakbúhan nang wala ng hintò`. They ran without stopping. This construction is in rivalry with that of conjunctive attribution (§ 146). 190. The demonstrative pronouns and the interrogative pronoun anò are not used as attributes of manner; for this value they have separate derivatives: ganitò, ganiyàn, gayòn or ganoòn, and gaáno or gáno. These forms, moreover, occur also as static predicates and as conjunctive attributes of quality: ang báwat sumagòt nang ganitò every one who answered in this way; this could be viewed also as an instrumental object. Ganitò ang kalàgáyan nilà. Their condition was like this. ang ganitò ng manga paglalarò` such games as this; Ganyàn ba lámang ang kínis mo? Is your skill merely like that? Nakàsúlat akò kay Hwàn nang gayòn dahilàn sa malakì ko ng pagkagálit. I came to write like that (or such things, cf. instrumental object) to Juan through my great anger. Ganoòn ang áki ng pagkárinìg. That was the way (i. e. the form in which) I heard the thing. Ang gayù ng pananalità` that manner of speaking, that expression. gánu ng pagpílit? how much effort? Gaáno ang pagkakagalìt nila? How great, how serious is their quarrel? (Cf. § 96). 191. A special case of the disjunctive attribute of manner is the repetition of a word as its own disjunctive modifier, expressing continuity or insistence of action: Humábà nang humába`. It grew longer and longer. Ang kanila ng báon ay umuntí nang umuntì`. Their provisions grew less and less. Si Hwàn ay táwa nang táwa. Juan laughs and laughs. Bilì nang bilì si Hwàn nang pálay. Juan keeps buying rice. 192. (7) Disjunctive attributes of time express the time when of an occurrence in the past. They differ from other disjunctive attributes in being often loosely joined, in which case they may precede. Pumaroòn sila nang hápon. They went there in the afternoon. So: nang umága in the morning, noò ng tagáraw (nang taò ng míle-nobisyèntos-dòs) in the summer (of the year 1902). Nang umulàn ay ginámit ko ang kapóte. When it rained I used my rain-coat. Nàlákad sina Pédro nang hindì óras. Pedro and his party had to start at a time not planned; literally: when not time. 193. Complete predications as disjunctive attributes of time are common. It is as though the whole predication were objectivized: Nang dumatìng ako doòn ay sya y walá na. When I arrived there he was already gone. Noo ng sya y bágo ng táo pa lámang.... When he was still but a young man.... 194. Anaphorically determined disjunctive attributes are often omitted. Íbig nya ng kánin ang súha`. Desired by-him that be-eaten (by-him) the grape-fruit, i. e. He wants to eat the grape-fruit. Nanghingí sya sa kanya ng manga kapatìd. He asked his brothers and sisters (for some). Hindí nila sya binigyàn. He was not given (any) by them, They did not give him any. c. Local attributes. 195. An object expression in local attribution expresses a local circumstance of that which is modified, such as the place in, to, or from which, that from whose midst, that about which or owing to which, the person to whom, etc. 196. In this construction initial si is replaced by kay (atonic), sinà by kinà (pretonic), and ang by sa (atonic); object expressions which begin with none of these particles take sa: Si Pédro ay galìt kay Hwàn. Pedro is angry at Juan. Nakitúluy kamì kina Pédro. We asked hospitality of Pedro's family. Syà y nanáog sa báhay. He came out of his house. sa boo ng báyan in the whole town. Rarely both sa and kay precede a personal name: Itò y nàtúto sa kay Mayèstro ng Hwàn. This one got his training from Teacher Juan. ang pagkàbúhay nang médiko sa kay Hwàn the doctor's saving of Juan's life. 197. The personal pronouns and síno take their prepositive forms after sa: Ibinigày nya sa ákin ang aklàt. Was-given by-him to me the book, i. e. He gave me the book. 198. In a peculiar construction these prepositive forms are preceded by the particle ganà as a conjunctive attribute, in the sense of so far as ... is concerned: Sa ganà ng ákin sya y maàári ng umalìs. So far as I am concerned he may leave. 199. The demonstrative pronouns and anò never stand in local attribution, see § 263 f. 200. Whole predications are rarely used as local attributes: Dumatìng ang dalága ng itò sa dalawa ng pù ng taòn ang gúlang. This young woman arrived at (the time when) her age was twenty years, i. e. reached the age of twenty years. 201. Local attributes are mostly closely joined and as a rule follow that which they modify, taking precedence of a disjunctive attribute or of a subject: ang nagbigày sa ákin nang aklàt na itò the giver to me of this book, the one who gave me this book (Bayad nà) ang útang sa ákin ni Hwàn. Juan's debt to me (has been paid). Ibigày mo kay Hwàn ang librò. Be-given by-you to Juan the book, i. e. Give Juan the book. Often, however, a disjunctive attribute which is felt to belong closely to what precedes, comes before a local attribute: Bayad-útang ni Hwàn sa ákin ang relòs na itò. This watch is Juan's debt-payment to me. Occasionally the local attribute precedes the expression modified: Syà y sa bangkà` nang manga babáe nakíkisakày. He goes along into the canoe of the women. Sa kabilà ng bandà mo ibwàl ang púno ng iyàn. Make that tree fall in the direction away from me. 202. Very frequently, however, local attributes are loosely joined, preceding or following; in the former case ay, y is sometimes omitted: Sa Báya-ng-San-Migèl ay nangyáre ang isa ng nakawàn. In the town of San Miguel a robbery took place. Hindí makadádala si Pédro nang kahòn sa kabigatàn nilà. Pedro will not be able to carry any boxes, on account of their heaviness. Sa ganà ng ákin sya y maàári ng umalìs. So far as I am concerned he can go. (§ 198). 203. We have seen that disjunctive attribution expresses the relation of objects (direct object, local object, instrumental object, §§ 184, 185, 187) to an action, provided that these objects are more or less indefinite. If they are quite definite, they are preferably made subjects in a passive construction. Frequently, however, they are instead put into local attribution, which thus competes with these types of disjunctive attribution, but involves a more definite object: Ang báhay na batò ay ang áki ng pinaghàhatdàn nang gátas. The stone house is the place to which I am delivering milk (instrumental object), i. e. I am delivering milk to the stone house; but: Ang báhay na batò ay ang áki ng pinaghàhatdàn sa báta`. The stone house is where I am bringing the child. (nang báta` would be a child or children). It follows that the personal pronouns, which always refer to definite persons, cannot stand as disjunctive objects of transient words, but stand instead in local attribution: Ang báhay na batò ay ang áki ng pinaghàhatdàn sa kanyà. The stone house is the place where I am taking him. Similarly a personal name: Ibigày mo kay Hwàn ang librò. Give Juan the book; cf. Bigyàn mo nang librò si Hwàn. Give Juan a book; "Juan" could not figure as disjunctive local object. 204. In many cases, however, these local attributes differ from disjunctive attributes and from the corresponding subjects of passive constructions: the local attribute represents the object as more externally involved and less thoroughly concerned in the occurrence: Humúkay sila nang bakúran. They dug up some yards. Hinukáyan nilà ang bakúran. They dug up the yard. In both sentences a serious change, such as unauthorized tampering, is implied; but: Humúkay sila sa bakúran. They dug in the yard, merely tells where they did their digging. Sya y pumanhìk nang báhay. He entered a house (or houses), perhaps illicitly; the house is viewed as in some way affected or intimately involved in the action; so also: Pinanhikàn nya ang báhay. He entered the house; but: Sya y pumanhìk sa báhay. He went into the house, He went into his house. 205. In other cases, where a transient predicate is not involved, the same difference appears: the local attribute is a mere scene or attendant circumstance, the disjunctive a real factor: Ang pagtatábon nang manga húkay na itò ay tapus nà. The filling up of these ditches is now finished, i. e. These ditches are filled up now; but: Ang pagtatábon sa manga húkay ay mahírap. Filling earth into ditches is hard work. karamíhan nang manga táo most of the people; karamíhan sa kanilà most of them; sa ganitò under these circumstances; nang ganitò (§ 190) thus, in this manner. 206. Expressions of time as local attributes denote future time when; occasionally also past time: Páparoòn akò sa makalawà. I shall go there the day after tomorrow. So: sa lúnes next Monday, cf. noò ng lúnes last Monday. Pího akò ng páparoòn sa alasìngko. I will surely go there at five o'clock. Sa gabi ng iyòn.... That night.... 207. With jussive words with prefix pa- (see Morphology) the person ordered to do so-and-so is viewed as a local feature: Ipinagupìt ko sa barbéro ng si Hwàn ang buhòk ni Andrès. Was-ordered-to-be-cut by-me of-the barber Juan the hair of Andrés, i. e. I ordered the barber Juan to cut Andrés' hair. 208. Rarely an expression in local attribution is used as a conjunctive attribute in an object expression: it precedes and has the meaning of a disjunctive attribute of possessor: ang sa ibà ng táo ng kawáyan other people's bamboo, or: ang kawáyan nang ibà ng táo. 209. This construction is much commoner when that owned is anaphorically omitted: ang sa pagòng that of the turtle, the turtle's, i. e. ang púno nang pagòng. So: ang sa kanyà his, hers. 210. In other cases anaphoric omission of an element modified by a local attribute is less common: ang pagsakày sa trèn sa lugàr nang sa karumáta the riding on the train in place of the (sc. pagsakày riding) in the carriage. 211. A static predicate may have the form of a local attribute: Sa linggò ang áki ng lúlan sa trèn. On (next) Sunday my embarking on the train, i. e. Next Sunday I shall take the train. Ang uupà ng itò ay sa háre`. This seat is for the king. 212. The particle sa has a number of derivatives which are transient in meaning, but otherwise have the same construction as sa; they are pretonic. Sya y nása Mayníla`. He is in Manila. Sya y nása kanya ng báhay. He is in his house. Ang tinterúhan ay nása bíngit nang lamésa. The inkwell is at the edge of the table. For these forms see Morphology. d. Absolute attributes. 213. Absolute attribution, in which no particle is used, is confined to certain expressions and types of expressions. Some absolute attributes and some of the particles introducing absolute attributes end in -ng or -t; these may contain the particle ng or at (§ 313). We may divide the cases of absolute attribution into six types, although these are not fully distinct from one another: (1) enclitic particles, (2) prepositive particles, (3) single words used as attributes of manner and time, (4) absolute complements, (5) words used with disjunctive and local attributes, (6) words introducing subordinate phrases or predications. (1) enclitic particles. 214. The enclitic particles which are used as absolute attributes follow a monosyllabic enclitic pronoun (kà, kò, mò) but precede a disyllabic enclitic pronoun (including niyà, nyà, siyà, syà). Among themselves they follow the general rule: monosyllabic enclitics precede disyllabic enclitics (§ 47). 215. bà is expressive of interrogation in yes-and-no questions and often in others: Máy-roon ba silà ng ginawà`? Have they done anything? Máy-roon ka bà ng gàgawìn? Have you anything to do? Ipinùpútol mo ba akò nang tubò? Will you cut some sugar-cane for me? Pinapagpùpútol ba nila syà nang káhoy? Does he get ordered by them to cut wood? i. e. Do they have him cut wood? Ano bà ang inilùlútu mo? What is it you are cooking? Anu ba kayò? What sort of people are you? Hindí mu ba nàkíta si Hwàn sa teyátro? Didn't you see Juan at the theatre? Ang iyo bà ng kapatìd? Your sister? See §§ 223. 229. 216. bagà throws more stress on the interrogation: Ikàw bagà y nagasáwa? Did you (ever) get married? See §§ 290. 317. 217. dàw, ràw expresses that the sentence represents the saying of someone other than the speaker; the person so quoted may be the agent of the sentence itself: Pagkà pinapagpútol mo ràw sya nang kawáyan ay làláyas syà. When he is ordered by you to cut bamboo, he will leave, I am told, or: he will leave, he says. Ang paguupú raw nya sa damò ay mabúti sa kanyà. He says (or: They say) his habit of sitting on the grass is good for him. It is sometimes used pleonastically, see the example in § 278. 218. dìn, rìn expresses that the expression modified (which may be the whole sentence or an element within the sentence) is like a corresponding earlier idea: Ako rìn ang nagpalígo sa báta`. It was I, too, that bathed the child (beside the other things I did), i. e. I also bathed the child. Si Hwan dìn ang naglínis nang kabalyerésa. Juan also cleaned a stable or stables (beside the other things he did). Si Hwàn ay naglínis rìn nang kabalyerésa. Juan, too, cleaned stables. Here dìn is an attribute of naglínis nang kabalyerésa: this act has been performed by Juan even as by others previously spoken of or known of. Si Hwána ay naglúto nang estopádo; kamakalawà naglútu rin akò nang estopádo. Juana cooked meat-stew; day-before-yesterday I too cooked meat-stew. Iyo ng úna ng kumalabòg ay akò, ang ikalawà ay ako rìn. That first thing which came down with a thud was I, the second was I again. Nahúlog dìn syà. He fell down again. Káhit na madilìm ang gabì ay nagpasyal dìn si Pédro. Although the night was dark, Pedro none the less (i. e. even as at other times) took a walk. Thus dìn is especially common in expressions of identity: Kahápon ay nakàkíta ako nang isa ng táo sa Mayníla`, at ngayòn ay nàkíta ko ang táwo rì ng iyòn sa báya ng itò. Yesterday I saw a man in Manila, and today I saw the same man in this town. In some instances dìn modifies an element not actually identical with another. Nagtalòn sya sa bintána`, dátapuwat sinundàn din syà nang amà. He jumped out of a window, but he was followed, too, by the father. See §§ 221. 227. 238. 239. 262, (11). 219. kayà` expresses doubt or possibility of choice: Anò kayà` ang ipinagútos mo sa kanyà? What perchance did you order him to do? Màpàpagkúro` kayá nya sa súlat na iyàn ang íbig mo ng gawìn nya. Perhaps he may be able to make out from this letter of yours what you want him to do. Baká kayà` magkaputòl ang manga tubò sa kalakasàn nang hángi ng itò. I am afraid that perhaps the sugar-cane may all break off, what with the strength of this wind. For another use of kayà` see § 297; cf. §§ 317. 321. 220. lámang only: Isà lámang ang mansánas na nátira sa lamésa. Only one apple is left on the table. So: íisa lámang only a single one. Sila ng tatlò ay walà ng pagkáin kung hindí ang itlòg lámang na nàtìtirà. The three had no food except only the egg that was left. Occasionally lámang follows the expression it modifies: isa ng ikápat na partè lámang only a fourth part. Sometimes a na is left off after lámang: Ákin lámang pinùputlàn nang buhòk. By-me (for ákin ... na, ng) only (he, anaphoric) is-getting-cut of hair, i. e. I am only cutting his hair. siya lámang kàkáin nang itlòg he (who; normally this relation is expressed by na, ng) will-eat the egg, i. e. the one who is alone to eat the egg. See §§ 227. 243. 221. màn expresses contrast with what precedes; it is the opposite of dìn, and the two are often used in one sentence to emphasize the point of difference and that of identity: Si Hwan màn ay naglínis (rìn) nang kabalyerésa. Juan, too, cleaned stables (as did others). Lálù nà lumakì ang gálit ni Hwàn, nang màbalitáan niya ng ang ikalawà màn nya ng anàk ay nagsundálo rìn. Juan's anger grew even greater when he learned that his second son too had (like the other) become a soldier. With interrogatives màn produces indefinites: Walà ng anu màn. There is nothing at all; also: Not at all, i. e. You're welcome. ang ano mà ng pasákit any kind of injury; ang alin mà ng pangkàt any team; sínu màn any person whatever, anyone at all. See §§ 227. 248. 262, (7. 10). 290. 317. 222. múna expresses that that modified precedes another thing: Magàwítan múna táyo, bágo táyo maghiwá-hiwalày. Let's sing a song together (first) before we part. Mangáko ka múna... First promise.... 223. nà takes into view the maturity of a situation (cf. German schon): Ang librò y gamit nà. The book is used already, i. e. is second-hand. Agad nà ng lálamìg. It will soon be cold now. Paálam na akò (sa iyò). Good-bye (to you). Nahánap ko nà ang sombréro. I have already looked for the hat. Nahánap na nyà ang sombréro. He has.... ang maláon na nila ng pagpupuyàt gabi-gabì their long staying up now every night, i. e. the fact that they have staid up late every night now. íisa na lámang pangkàt only a single group now. It precedes bà (§ 215): Nakahandá na ba ang áki ng pangpalígo`? Is my bath ready? Gánu ka na bà kakínis? How clever are you by this time? It is used also in brusque or familiar commands: Pálù na sa kanya ng kamày! Hit him on his hand! Sáma na sa ákin. Come to me (to a child). Ílag ka na riyàn! Be off there! See §§ 224. 226. 227. 229. 242. 244. 224. namàn expresses transition to another subject, hence often also mild contrast: Hábang si Hwána ay naglùlúto`, si Hwàn namàn ay naglìlínis nang báhay. While Juana is cooking, Juan cleans the house. Anu ka ba namà ng táo? What sort of person are you, anyway? Ibà namàn ang gawìn mo ng lúto sa manòk. You are to cook the chicken in a different way. siya rìn namàn nyà ng karanyúwa ng kinàkáin that which, however, is usually eaten by him. The combination nà namàn means again: Maínit na namàn. It's hot again. 225. nawà` pray, please expresses imprecation: Kaawaàn nawà` ninyo kamì, poo ng Dyòs! Take pity on us, O Lord! 226. ngà` is assertive and emphasizing: Oo ngà`. Yes indeed. Ikaw ngà` ang nagsábi niyàn. You yourself are the one who said that. It is used in polite requests: Itúru nga ninyò sa ákin ang daàn. Please show me the way. Ipakipútol mo ngà`, Hwàn, ang tinibàn sa áki ng bakúran. Please, Juan, cut down for me the banana-stump in my yard. It follows nà: Pakipútol na ngà` ang sinúlid na itò. Please cut this string for me. See § 229. 227. pà expresses the immaturity or continuance of a situation (cf. German noch) and stands in contrast with nà. Its meaning is often emphasized by lámang: mabúti pà better yet, Íbig ko pà nang kánin. I should like some more rice. Hampasìn mo pa syà. Whip him some more. Saríwà pa ang damìt. The clothes are still wet. It precedes dìn and màn (cf. § 248): ang isa pa rì ng káluluwa another (i. e. one more) soul; Hindí pa rìn lubhà ng maliwánag. It was, however, not yet light enough. Kagìgísing ko pa lámang. I have only just waked up. See §§ 243. 248. 228. palà, used after hindì` (§ 239), expresses contrast with one's expectation, reversal: Ang ísip ko y balat lámang nang itlòg itò, hindí palà, kun dí` itlòg na boò`. I thought this was only an egg-shell, but no, it was a whole egg. 229. pò` is expressive of politeness toward the person addressed: Oo pò`. Yes, sir; Yes, ma'am. Patàtawárin pò`! Pardon me; used also in refusing to give alms. Patàtawárin po nang ilà ng sandalè`. Excuse me for a few moments, please. Maghintú pu kayò. Please stop (plural or polite singular). Magsihintú pu kayò. Please stop (explicit plural). Umupú po kayò. Please sit down. Maupú po kayò. Please be seated. Ikinalúlungkot ko pò` ang kasawià-ng-pálad na nangyáre sa inyò. I lament the misfortune which has come to you. ang iyo pò ng Kamàhálan your Majesty. pò` precedes bà and follows nà and ngà`: Kaawaàn na pò` ninyo kamì, poo ng Dyòs! Take pity on us, O Lord! Maàári pu bà ng kayò y maghintò`? Can you please stop? Occasionally pò` follows that modified: Magandà ng áraw pò`! Good day; How do you do? 230. sána expresses unreal futurity in the past or doubtful futurity in the present; in the latter sense it expresses modesty in a request: Ipaglálaba sána kità nang iyo ng damìt, ngúnit walà` ako ng sabòn. I would wash your clothes for you, but I have no soap. Isinúlat ko sa kanyà ng pilítin sána niya ng màparíto sa átin, pag sya y nàrìritò sa báya ng itò. I wrote to him to try to get round here to us when he gets to this town. 231. tulòy further, in continuation: Sinábi tulòy niyà.... He said further.... 232. ulè` again, equivalent with mulì` (§ 148), has two irregularities: it is often not enclitic but closely joined postpositive, and, in this case, it may, entirely like mulì`, be conjunctive instead of absolute: Nahúlog ulí sya. He fell again; but: Umakyàt sya ulè`. He climbed again; and even: ... nang magdaàn sya ng ulè` sa pasíga ng itò.... when he again walked on this beach. (2) prepositive particles. 233. Certain particles used as absolute attributes always precede that modified. They fall into two groups: (A) regular closely joined modifiers, and (B) particles which immediately precede single words or short phrases. 234. (A) The closely joined particles usually receive regular treatment, being followed, for instance, by enclitics. Occasionally, however, the feeling seems to be that the particle is, as it were, placed before the whole sentence; in this case a non-enclitic subject or a loosely joined attribute or a second closely joined attribute may follow the particle, and the last-named may (instead of the particle) be followed by some or all of the enclitics. In the case of huwàg (§ 240) we meet for the first time alternation of absolute and conjunctive attribution, which mostly follows the principle that the latter construction is used where ng (as opposed to na) is possible (§ 122). 235. bakà` is expressive of an undesired contingency; it is the negative of wishes and fears: Baká ka maputúlan nang dalíri`, Hwàn. You might get your finger cut off, Juan, i. e. See that you don't ... or I hope you won't.... Baká nya ikátawà ang iyo ng sàsabíhin. Perhaps what you intend to say will only make him laugh. Baká táyu ang pagbintangàn nang páre`. I am afraid the priest may suspect us. See § 317. 236. bákit why? Bákit ka naparíto? Why have you come here? Bákit mo inakála`...? Why do you think...? Bákit hindí ka magáral...? Why don't you learn...? 237. dì` not is often used instead of hindì` (§ 239) before shorter expressions: dí maláyo` not far, dí karanyúwan unusual, Si Hwàn ay dí natákot na sumakày. Juan was not afraid to mount. See § 301. 238. gayòn (§ 190), in this use always followed by dìn (§ 218), also, furthermore: Sya y isa ng táo ng may kauntì ng talíno at gayon dìn may kauntì ng tápang. He was a man of some cleverness and also of some courage. 239. hindì` not is used where the specific negatives áyaw (§ 267), bakà` (§ 235), huwàg (§ 240), and walà` (§§ 61. 81. 89) are not applicable. Occasionally it is replaced by dì` (§ 237). Hindì`. No. Hindí akò. (It is, was) not I; I don't, didn't, etc. Hindí bále. It doesn't matter. Hindí ko nàlàláman. I don't know. Hindí ko sya nàkíta. I didn't see him. Hindí ko mabása iyàn. I can't read that. Ang túnay na lakì nang buwàn ay hindí sya ng nàkìkíta nang manga táo kung gabè. The real size of the moon is not that which people see at night. ang kanya ng tákot na baká hindí nya abúta ng buhày ang kanya ng inìíbig his fear that (perhaps) he should not see his loved one alive. Hindì` negates only the material part of a word, not its grammatical (affixal) elements: Ang kamahalàn nang manòk ay sya ng hindí ikabilì nitò nang marámi ng táo. The high price of chicken is that which not causes-to-buy it many people, i. e. causes many people not to buy it; the idea of buying is the material element of i-ka-bilì (see Morphology); the causal idea, which is expressed by the prefixes i-ka- is not negated. Ang pagkukublì nang manga sundálo ay siyà nilà ng hindí ikinamatày. The hiding of the soldiers is what caused them not to be killed, i. e. saved them from death. Note hindí rìn (§ 218) also not, nor, and gayòn dìn hindì` (§ 238): Ang dalága ng si Mariyà y sumayàw sa bála ng táo ng humilìng sa kanyà sa sàyáwa ng pinaroonàn niya kagabè: sya y hindí namíli nang kanya ng sinamáhan at hindí rin namàn namíli nang tugtòg na kanya ng sinayawàn; gayon dìn hindí nya ininò ang bílang at ang kadalasàn nang kanyà ng pagsayàw. Miss Maria danced with any man that asked her at the dance to which she went last night: she chose neither her partners nor the music to which she danced; nor did she mind the number and the frequency of her dances. See §§ 228. 237. 301. 319. 240. huwàg, hwàg is the negative of commands, purpose, obligation. Where ng is possible conjunctive attribution takes the place of absolute: Ang hangàd ay ang huwàg bayáa ng lumagpàk sa lúpà ang bóla. The aim is not to let the ball fall to the ground. (46, 36) Sinàsábi nya ríto na hwàg sunúgin ang ámi ng báhay. He told them not to burn our house. Ang túro sa ákin nang mayèstro ay hwàg akò ng mapagawày. The teacher's order to me is that I must not be quarrelsome. Hwag mò ng tawánan si Hwàn. Don't laugh at Juan. Hwag kà ng umyàk. Don't cry. Hwag kà, Hwàn, pumásuk na sekréta. Don't go as a spy, Juan. See § 239. 241. kaniyà`, kanyà` therefore, as a result, consequently: Bumitìw ang báta` sa lúbid, kanyá náparapà` ang kanyà ng kahatakàn. The child let go of the rope, and so the one he was pulling against fell. Kanyà` hindí tulà` ang kanya ng kinantà. Therefore what he sang was disconnected. Kanyà` sa katapusàn ay sinábi nya... Therefore in the end he said.... Occasionally it is loosely joined: Kanyà y sya y umalìs. Therefore he went away. See §§ 295. 324. 242. lálo` (§ 147), in this use always followed by nà (§ 223), especially, very: Lálù na kung isa ng tahòl nang áso ang makàgísing sa kanya, sya y nàpàpaluksò. Especially when the barking of a dog awoke him, he would involuntarily jump. Sya y nangàngáin nang táo lálù nà nang manga báta`. It makes its food of people, especially children. 243. sakà` after that, then: Pagkà pinapagpùpútol ko nà sya nang káhoy ay saká sya nagdàdahilà ng may sakìt. As soon as I order him to cut wood, (then) he alleges that he is sick. Especially saká pa lámang (§ 227) only then, not till then: Kapag ipinamùmútol na nya nang káhoy ang lagári` ay saká mo pa lámang kúnin itò sa kanyà. When he uses the saw for cutting wood, only then do you take it from him. 244. tuwè` when followed by nà (§ 223) is used as a loosely joined prepositive attribute: every time: Tuwí nà y syà ang nagìng mánanalò. He turns out victorious every single time. See §§ 307. 317. 245. (B) The particles of the second group are mechanically prefixed, as it were, to that modified. 246. The pretonic particle báwat every precedes that modified, forming an object expression with or without ang (§ 66, end): Báwat marúnung nang leksyòn ay makaáalìs pagdatìng nang alasìngko. Everyone who knows the lesson will be allowed to leave at five o'clock. Ang báwat hindí marúnung nang leksyòn ay màtìtirà hanggàng alasès. Every one of those who do not know the lesson will have to stay till six o'clock. báwat táo everyone, each person. 247. gaáno, gáno how? (§ 190) is used absolutely before words with prefix ka- expressing high degree of a quality (see Morphology and cf. §§ 76. 179): gáno katabà`? How fat? gáno kaláyo`? How far? Gánu ka na bà kakínis? How clever are you now? 248. The pretonic particle káhit precedes interrogatives and isà one absolutely or with na; its force is generalizing, more emphatically than màn (§ 221). The expression so formed is an object expression used with or without ang (§ 68): ang káhit na síno, ang káhit síno, káhit na síno, káhit síno anyone, anyone whatever, no matter who, káhit anò anything whatever, káhit na anu ng táo any sort of person whatever, káhit na sínu ng táo any person whatever, sa káhit alì ng bandà in any direction, káhit isà anyone whatever, even one. These expressions are often strengthened by màn (§ 221) or pà màn (§ 227): Hindí na sya sumakày sa káhit ano pa màn. This time he did not ride on anything. káhit sínu màn anyone at all. Expressions beginning with káhit have the peculiarity that in the two normally conjunctive constructions in which they stand na, ng is often omitted before them: After walà` (§ 138): Walá káhit anò. There isn't a thing. Walá sila káhit anò. They haven't a thing. So even when walà` does not immediately precede: Nàbuksàn ang pintú nang wala ng nakàmálay káhit sínu màn. The door came open without anyone noticing it. Walá pa sila ng nàhùhúli káhit anò. They had not yet caught anything, literally: anything that was caught. Walá sya ng nàlàláman káhit isa ng hóta. He did not know a single iota. Occasionally na, ng is used: Walá sya ng màkíta ng táo ng káhit anò. He saw no person whatever. As (normally conjunctive, § 149) attribute of time during which: Sya y hindí màtahímik káhit isà ng sandalè`. He cannot keep quiet even for a single moment. See §§ 253. 294. 249. kápuwà`, kápwà` fellow-, equally, applied to one of a pair, is sometimes used with personal pronouns: in this case it follows (cf. § 129): Si Pédro at si Hwàn ay dalawa ng kápwa magnanákaw. Pedro and Juan are two fellow thieves. ang kápwa nya magnanákaw his fellow-thief, Kápuwa maínam ang tinìg nila ng dalawà. The voices of the two are equally pleasant. Kápwa sila malakàs. They are equally strong. Sinàsaktan silà kápuwa`. They both get hurt. Redundantly: Namílog si Hwàn nang úlo nang kápwa nya kalarò`. Juan fooled (literally: rounded the head of) his (fellow) playmate. The word modified may be anaphorically omitted: Ang táwo y hindí dápat sumakìt nang kanya ng kápwa`. One must not injure one's fellow (sc. táo man). 250. The transient pretonic particle magìng and its other transient forms (see Morphology) express that the word or phrase modified is something coming into being, arising, at the time specified by the tense-form of the particle: Sya y nagìng hukòm. He became judge. ang nagìng pagkáhulè the falling-behind which arose, Nagìng isa syà sa manga hindí nátanggàp. He turned out to be one of those who were not accepted. 251. The pretonic particle mangà is the sign of explicit plurality with object expressions. It precedes the central element immediately, not even the na, ng necessitated by a preceding conjunctive attribute comes between; only ibà may come after mangà: ang kanyà ng magúlang, or: ang kanyà ng manga magúlang his, her parents, ang manga ibà ng táo other people. Redundantly: Sa tapàt nang báhay ni Pédro ay marámi ng manga bulaklàk. In front of Pedro's house there are many flowers. Ang áraw ay sya ng pinópoon nang ilà ng manga salbáhe sa Áfrika. The sun is worshipped by some savages in Africa. And even: ang manga ilan pà ng manga tanòng several further questions. With mangà compare the prefix of the same form, see Morphology. 252. The pretonic particle máy belongs here. For examples see §§ 69. 70. 85. 110. 139. 253. nì pretonic, is a frequent substitute (Spanish) for káhit (§ 245) in negative sentences. The object expressions which begin with it never take ang (§ 68): Ní isa y walà ng nátira. There isn't a single one left. Walá ní isa. There isn't a single one. Nàbuksàn ang pintú nang wala ng nakàmálay nì sínu màn. The door came open without anyone noticing it. Walà ng nátira ní isa nang manga péras sa mésa. Not one was left of the pears on the table. Occasionally nì seems to take the place of nang before káhit: Bákit hindí sya makátagpo nì káhit isà nang manga bágay na itò? Why could he not meet even a single one of these things? Cf. § 319. 254. The pretonic particle tagà, tigà preceding an expression of place forms an expression denoting a person from that place: Sya y isa ng taga Kapampángan. He is a Pampangan. ang taga búkid, ang tiga búkid: ang isa ng táo ng túbo sa búkid a country-man: a person raised in the country, ang mayáma ng taga iba ng báyan the rich man from another town, stranger, foreigner, ang manga taga iba t ibà ng lupaìn people from various countries. So: taga báyan, tiga báyan townsman, taga Filipínas Filipino, taga Amérika American, taga Espánya Spaniard (beside Amerikáno, Kastíla`). Cf. in Morphology, the prefix taga-. 255. Numerative pronouns and cardinal numerals are used as absolute attributes before katáo persons, men: sa m pú katáo ten people, ten men; or: sa m pù ng táo; Ilàn katáo (or: Ilà ng táo) ang bumúhat sa báhay? How many men lifted at the house? 256. The terms of relationship and titles which are treated as personal names (§ 59) precede a name as absolute attributes; after most of those that end in a syllabic, n, or `, ng is however used. Some titles occur only in this construction: si Kúya ng Pédro my oldest brother Pedro, si Atè Lóleng my oldest sister Lola, si Ingkòng Píro Grandfather Pedro, si Indà ng Hwána, or: si Impò ng Hwána Grandmother Juana, si Áli ng Maryà, or: si Tiyà Maryà Aunt Maria, si Mà ng Andrès Uncle Andrés, Don Andrés, si Ginoò ng Polikàrpiyo Mr. Policarpio, si Gíning Màrkes Miss or Mrs. Marques, si Párì Hwàn Father Juan, si Mayèstro ng Pédro Teacher Pedro, Master Pedro, si Báo ng Mariyà Widow Maria, si nasíra ng Mariyà the deceased Maria. (3) words used as absolute attributes of manner and time. 257. The words used as absolute attributes of manner and time resemble in meaning conjunctive attributes and are frequently used in the latter construction. As a rule they are loosely joined and absolute. In this way are used: 258. Derivatives by doubling of words of time, in the sense of every (day, night, etc.). With these goes the compound áraw-gabè day and night. For both formations see Morphology. Hinàhatdan nyà akò nang gátas áraw-áraw. He delivers milk to me every day. Gabi-gabì ay tinùtulúgan nang bantày ang áki ng báhay. Every night the sentry makes our house his sleeping-place. 259. Words with prefix ka- referring to past time (see Morphology): Ang pàtáya ng nangyári kagabì ay paglalasìng ang nagìng sanhè`. The killing that occurred last night had drunkenness as its cause. Ang manga áso sa báya ng itò ay nagtàhúlan kagabè. The dogs in this town all bayed last night. Ang kabáyo ay namatày kahápon. The horse died yesterday. Pumaroòn akò kamakalawà. I went there day before yesterday. These may be followed by a disjunctive attribute telling the specific time when: Nagsipútol kamì nang tubò kahápon nang hápon. We cut sugar-cane yesterday afternoon. So: kahápon nang umága yesterday morning. 260. Words of time with prefix kinà- and suffix -an expressing actual past time (see Morphology): Kinàháti-ng-gabihàn ay nágising syà. When midnight came he woke up. Kinàbukásan hinánap silà nang kanila ng amà. On the next day they were called by their father. With disjunctive attribute telling the special time: Kinàbukásan nang hápun ay naparoòn sila sa simbáhan. On the next day in the afternoon they went to church. 261. Words of time preceded by the pronouns boò` and isà as conjunctive modifiers: Sila y nagsipagsugàl gabi-gabì boò ng magdamàg. They gambled all night every night. Isa ng áraw naupó sya sa taburéte. One day he sat down on his chair. Ang iyò ng kapatìd ay nalígo isa ng hápon. Your sister bathed one afternoon. Isa ng gabì ay nárinig ko.... One evening I heard.... So: isa ng katanghalían one midday, isa ng linggò one Sunday, isa ng tanghále` one noon, isa ng umága one morning. As conjunctive attributes: Sya y naglálakad na isa ng gabì. He was walking one night. Páparoon sya ng isa ng linggò. He will come one Sunday. Those with boò` also as local attributes: Nakatahul nà ang manga áso sa boò ng magdamàg. The dogs have been barking all night. 262. Various words of time: (1) antimáno beforehand (Spanish). (2) búkas tomorrow: Magpàpapútol ba táyo nang káhoy búkas? Are we going to have some wood cut tomorrow? With disjunctive attribute of specific time: Magsìsipútol kamì nang tubò búkas nang umága. We are going to cut sugar-cane tomorrow morning. (3) dáti for a long time already; formerly; it is sometimes closely joined: ang mukhá nang babáye, na dáti y nagpàpakilála nang malakì ng paghihírap the face of the woman, which before had been showing great suffering; Dáti náriyàn ang mansà ng iyàn. That spot has been there for a long time. As conjunctive attribute: Dáti sya ng napàparíto sa áki ng báhay. He has been coming to my house since long ago. (4) kadalasàn often, usually: Ang kanya ng pinasàsakítan kadalasà y nagáanyo ng pára ng ulòl. The person he is injuring usually acts as if crazy. (5) kanína a little while ago, just now: Sinábi ko na pò sa inyo kanína, na.... I just told you a little while ago that.... With a conjunctive attribute of the specific time in the phrase kanína ng umága this morning, which may be closely joined: Kumáin ka ba kanína ng umága nang karnè?--Hindí ako kumáin nang karnè kanína ng umága. Did you eat meat this morning?--I did not eat meat this morning. (6) karanyúwan mostly, usually: Ang kosinéro karanyúwa y upahàn. The cook is usually hired. (7) káylan, kélan when? Káylan ako malìlígo`? When shall I bathe? Káylan pa kayà panghìhinayángan nang manga táo ang manga áni ng taòn-taò y nàsìsíra nang luktòn o nang túyot? When, pray, will the people regret the harvests every year destroyed by locusts or by drought? So káylan màn at any time, ever, always (§§ 221. 317): Káylan mà y hindí nilìlimútan si Maryà. Maria was never forgotten. (8) makálawà twice, when with maghápon per day: Naàári ako ng malígo makálawa maghápun, dahilàn sa kainítan. I can bathe twice a day on account of the heat. Alone makálawà is a conjunctive attribute: Makálawa ko ng itinanùng kung saàn sya páparoòn, dátapuwat hindí nya ako sinagòt. I asked him twice where he was going, but he did not answer me. Maghápon does not occur alone. (9) mámayà`, mámyà` after a while, soon, with a disjunctive attribute of the specific time when: Mámyá nang kauntì` ay áalis akò. In a little while I am going. As conjunctive modifier; the phrase so formed is used like mámayà` alone: Mámaya ng gabì ay pàpások táyo sa teyátro. This evening we shall go to the theatre. (10) mínsan once, once upon a time: Mínsan sila y nakáraàn nang isa ng púno-ng-nyòg. Once upon a time they came across a cocoanut-tree. With màn at any one time (§ 221): Mínsan màn ay hindí sya náuna. Not a single time did he succeed in getting ahead. As conjunctive attribute: Ang tatlo ng itù y nagtìpána ng mínsan. These three once made an appointment. (11) ngayòn now, just now, today (cf. § 302): Sya y nása Mayníla ngayòn. He is in Manila today. Ngayòn ay mangàkàkatúlog silà. Now they will be able to sleep. So ngayon dìn right now (§ 218): Umalìs ka ngayon dìn. Go away this minute. (12) paráti often: Mahína ang kanyà ng katawàn at paráti sa sakìt. Her body was weak and often in sickness. Also conjunctive: Akò y paráti ng nàhàhábol. I am often pursued. (13) siyèmpre (Spanish) always: Ang paggalàw na pagtagílid ay syèmpre (or: káylan màn ay) sa kaikliàn nang bangkà`, dátapuwat ang pagtikwàs ay sa kahabáan. The movement of rocking is always along the short axis of a boat, but pitching is along its length. 263. Four words of place, which serve also as local forms of the demonstrative pronouns (§ 199). They are, corresponding to the four demonstrative pronouns: díne, ríne; díto, ríto; diyàn, dyàn, riyàn; doòn, roòn. They occur in every position which an attribute can have: Loosely joined, preceding: Doòn ay sinalúbong sya nang susò`. There he was met by the snail. Díto nàmálas nya ng.... Here he perceived that.... Loosely joined, following: Taginit nà nang sya y dumating díto. It was already summer when he arrived here. Ang alíla` ay ipinagamùt nya díto. The servant was-ordered-to-be-cured by-him of-the-latter, i. e. He had the latter cure the servant. Alis dyàn! Get away there! (e. g. to a dog). Alìs na riyàn, Pédro. Go away from there, Pedro. Mátira ka dyàn. Stay there. Closely joined, preceding: Díne ako maúupò`. I am going to sit right here. Díto ka na makikáin sa ámin. Eat here with us. Díto nya ginámit ang kanya ng lakàs. For this he used his strength. Doòn sila magpalípas nang bakasyòn. There they are to spend the vacation. Closely joined, following: Hwag mò ng ilagay díto ang palatòn. Don't put the plate here. Enclitic: Dalhìn mo ríto iyò ng librò ng binàbása ko kagabì. Bring here the book I was reading last night. Magdalà ka díto nang kasapwégo. Bring some matches. These words often precede a local attribute: Ílag ka dyàn sa daàn. Get out of the road there. Nakitúloy silà sa ámin doòn sa búkid. They asked us to take them in out there in the country. Note also: Sa isa ng karitò ng dí maláyo sa báhay, doòn sya nahigà` In a cart not far from the house, there he lay down. 264. Similarly saàn where? which serves also instead of a local form of anò (§ 199). It is closely joined and, as a question-word, precedes: Saàn nároon ang kanya ng kapatìd?--Hindí ko nàlàláman kung saàn nároon ang kanya ng kapatìd. Where is his brother?--I don't know where his brother is. Saan nàndon sya? Where is he? Saàn mo sya nàkíta? Where did you see him? Saàng ka maúupò`? Where are you going to sit? Saàng ka gáling? Where do you come from? (Cf., for the local value, the answer, e. g.: Gáling ako sa Mayníla`. I come from Manila.) Saàn ka nanggàgáling? Where are you coming from? Saàn ka nanggáling? Where have you come from? Saàng ka páparon? Where are you going? Saàn ka púpunta? Where are you bound for? So: káhit saàn anywhere at all (§ 248): Itò y hindí nya màkíta káhit saàn. He could not find the latter anywhere. As local form of anò, saàn stands also in conjunctive attribution (§ 131): Saà ng gawè` mulá ríto ang báya-ng-Kamálig?--Sa gawì ng kánan mulá ríto ang báya-ng-Kamálig. In what direction from here is the town of Camalig?--The town of Camalig is to the right of here. Pagkaísip mo, Hwàn, kung saà ng báyan ka maghàhánap-búhay ay sabíhin mo sa ákin. When you have decided, Juan, in what town you will try to earn your living, tell me. As a question-word, further, saàn may form a static predicate (§ 96): Saàn ang làgáyan mo nang iyo ng sapátos? Where is your place for putting away your shoes? 265. Several words of manner: (1) The particle agàd at once and its doubled form agad-agàd immediately (see Morphology) are closely joined; where ng can be used, they are mostly conjunctive: Tumakbò sya agàd. He ran at once, or: Tumakbò sya ng agàd. Minulàn nya agàd ang pagtatalumpáte`. He at once began his speech. Agad nà ng lálamìg. It will soon be cold now. Agad-agàd inùumpisahàn ang pagsisìgáwan. At once the yelling begins. (2) halimbáwa` for example, for instance is loosely joined: Kung halimbáwa y makàkíta sya nang isa ng bákol.... When, for instance, she saw a basket ... isa ng tahòl nang áso halimbáwa` the barking of a dog, for instance. (3) hálos almost is closely joined: hálos lahàt nang táo almost all the people, walà ng pamamáro` hálos almost without clothing. (4) isa-isà one by one is closely joined; it is more often conjunctive than absolute: Siniyásat nya isa-isà ang manga púno`. She questioned the trees one by one. Itò y sya nyà ng isa-isà ng inilaglàg. These he dropped one by one. (5) karáka-ráka right away, quickly (cf. pagdáka, pagkaráka, below): "Hindí akò!" winíka nya karáka-ráka. "It wasn't I!" he said at once. (6) katunáyan truth, as absolute attribute, loosely joined, truly; in this sense also conjunctive: Katunáya y uwalà ng mwàng si Hwàn. Really Juan was ignorant. Katunáya ng walá sya ng nàlàláman káhit isa ng hóta. He really did not know a single iota. (7) mìsmo (Spanish) himself, herself, intensive: ang nàkùkúlam mìsmo the bewitched person himself; siya mìsmo he himself, she herself. (8) palibhása` is loosely joined and precedes. It expresses that what follows is stated as a reason; the construction is apparently not subordinating, but parallel with that of halimbáwa` above: Ang pagsasáma ... ay hindí nila pinápansìn, palibhása y gawá rin namàn nilà. The living together ... was not minded by them, the reason being that they did it themselves. (9) pagdáka and pagkaráka immediately, quickly (synonymous with karáka-ráka above): Pagdáka y tinangnan nyà ang dalawà ng hintutúro` nang babáye. He quickly seized the woman's two forefingers. Also closely joined: Itinanòng pagdáka nang médiko.... The doctor at once asked.... (4) absolute complements. 266. After certain words which are followed by a complement construction, as described in § 151 ff., the conjunctive particle is often omitted, especially where the form na is required; where ng is possible its use is preferred. They are: 267. íbig desired, synonymous with gustò (of whose regular construction examples have been given in §§ 152. 158), and áyaw the negative of íbig. These are usually accompanied by a disjunctive agent: Anò ang íbig nya ng sabíhin? What is that desired by-him that (sc. by-him it, both anaphoric) be said? or: What is the desired by-him thing-to-be-said? i. e. What does he want to say? Anò ang íbig mo ng gawìn nya? What do you want him to do? Hindí na sya íbig labanàn. He was no longer sought as an opponent. Itò y íbig na gawì ng úna. This is desired to be done first, i. e. One wants to do this first. Ang áyaw ko ng màkíta ay isa ng núno`. What I don't want to see is a ghost. Itò y áyaw nya ng gawìn. He does not want to do this. Very frequently the construction is impersonal, in which case the complement (and quasi-subject, § 158) may consist of an entire predication: Íbig nya ng kumáin nang súha`. It-is-desired by-him that (he) eat some grape-fruit, i. e. He wants to eat some grape-fruit. Íbig nya ng kánin ang súha`. It-is-desired by-him that be-eaten (by-him) the grape-fruit, i. e. He wants to eat the grape-fruit. Áyaw ipamána nang mangkukúlam ang kanya ng kúlam. The sorcerer does not want to bequeath his magic power. When the person desiring is at the same time the agent of the complement, the whole expression may serve as predicate or attribute of the person desiring; this construction is rarely used with other than active complements: Sya y íbig kumáin nang súha`. He is desired (by-him) that (he) eat some grape-fruit, i. e. He wants to eat some grape-fruit, equivalent to Íbig nya ng kumáin nang súha`. Ang kúba` ay hindi rìn íbig umakyàt. The hunchback too did not want to climb. isa ng Kastíla` na íbig malígo` a Spaniard who wanted to bathe. Ang sundálo ay áyaw pumáyag. The soldier did not want to consent. Without complement (or with anaphorically omitted complement): Anò ang íbig mo? What is it you want? Íbig ko pà nang kánin. There-is-desire by-me still of boiled rice, i. e. I want some more boiled rice. Ang larò ng taguàn ay íbig nang manga báta`. Children like the game of hide-and-seek. Áyaw ko. I don't want to; less commonly: Áyaw akò. 268. dápat proper, necessary and súkat fitting, right: Itò y dápat gawìn. This ought to be done. Sya y dápat palúin. He ought to be thrashed. Anò ang dápat nya ng gawìn? What ought to be done by him? i. e. What ought he do? Ang isà y dápat múna ng magsilbè sa dimóniyo. One must first serve the demon. Hindí mo súkat ikagálit ang manga tuksò. It is not right for you to get angry at jokes, literally: Jokes are not by-you a fitting cause of anger. Without complement: Itò y súkat nà. This is right, sufficient. 269. Words with prefix ma-, expressing the possessor of a quality, and their derivatives (see Morphology), have occasionally an absolute instead of a conjunctive complement. Those so used are: (1) madalàs often, frequent, regular: Akò y madalàs magkumpisàl. I was regular at going to confession, or: a regular confessor. But: Madalàs nila ng sinalakáyan ang báyan. They frequently attacked the town. (2) magalìng skilful, clever, polite: Si Hwàn ay magalìng gumámit nang daràs. Juan was clever at using the adze, or: a clever user of the adze, or: cleverly used the adze. But: Magalìng sya ng tumugtòg nang piyáno. She plays the piano well. (3) mahírap suffering, destitute, difficult (i. e. having hardship, actively or passively): Ang aswàng ay mahírap mápatay. A vampire is hard to-be-killed, i. e. hard to kill. Regular constructions: Ang pagabùt nang búnga ng itò ay mahírap. The reaching this fruit is hard, i. e. The fruit is hard to reach. ang mahírap na kasamà the poor laborer. (4) mahúsay able, good (at doing something), in good shape: Ang manga táo sa báyan ay mahuhúsay sumunòd sa kautusàn. The people in the town are good law-abiders. But: ang pinakamahúsay na magsalità` the best at speaking; Ang lípà nang lúpa` ay mahúsay. The smearing (with sticky mud) of the ground (in the threshing-room for rice) is well done. (5) maínam pleasant, tasty, good: Ang manòk na kawalà` ay hindí maínam patayìn. Chickens that run free are not good for killing. Cf.: isa ng maínam na singsìng a pretty ring. (6) malakàs strong, powerful, loud: Sya y malakàs kumáin. He is great at eating, or: a great eater; also: malakàs na kumáin. Cf.: ang manga táo ng malalakàs strong men, Sya y tumáwa nang malakàs. He laughed aloud. (7) maluwàt, malwàt long (in time), slow: Ang pagpútol nang buhòk ay maluwàt màtutúhan. Hair-cutting takes long to learn. Cf.: Syà y nagkalatimbà ng maluwàt. He squatted on heels (as exercise or punishment) many times. Natùtúlog akò nang maluwàt. I sleep late. (8) marúnong wise, knowing how: Sya y marúnung gumupìt nang buhòk. He knew how to cut hair. But: Marúnong sya ng sumakày sa kabáyo. He knows how to ride horseback. ang marúnong na pagòng the clever turtle; Isa ng sundálo ng marúnung nang Latìn. A soldier who knew Latin. (5) words used with disjunctive and local attributes. 270. Certain words form with their attributes phrases that are used as absolute attributes, for the most part loosely joined. The phrase-forming attributes are either (A) disjunctive or (B) local. 271. (A) akála` a thought followed by a disjunctive possessor: as so-and-so thinks: Akála ko y gamit nà ang sombréro ng itò. I think this hat has been used already, is second-hand. More commonly these phrases are used as local attribute: Ang harangà ng iyòn na nangyári kagabè sa akála ko y pahárang ni Andrès. The hold-up which took place last night was, in my opinion, planned by Andrés. 272. gáya like, resembling, in the manner of; for the disjunctive attribute cf. § 177: ang manga púno-ng-káhoy, gáya nang tsíko trees like the custard-apple; Gáya nang karanyúwan inumpisahàn nang kúra ang kanya ng sèrmon. As usual, the priest began his sermon. Magaàn ang sípa`, hindí gáya nang bóla ng gámit sa bèsbol. The football is light, unlike the ball used in baseball. These phrases occur also as conjunctive attributes: Hindí umuwé si Kíko na gáya nang karanyúwan. Kiko did not go home as usual. Normal constructions: Ang húni nang íbo ng pipìt ay gáya nang isa ng sutsòt. The chirp of the humming-bird is like a whistling. ang manga gáya mo those like you, people like you. 273. kasáma (in normal constructions companion): as companion of, in company with: Namundok syà kasáma nang ilà manga táo-ng-báyan. He took the mountains along with a few fellow-townsmen. 274. Abstracts of action with prefixes in p- (see Morphology) express the time when or (so pagka- and pagkà-) the time immediately after which. They sometimes occur without a disjunctive modifier. Cf. § 300. Pagulàn ay gamítin mo ang kapóte. When it rains use your raincoat. Pagdatìng niya ay sabíhin mo ng maghintày. When he arrives tell him to wait, literally: At the arriving of him be-it-said by-you that (he) wait. Pagkasúnog nang báhay ay hinánap nilà ang aláhas. When the house had burned down they looked for the jewelry. Pagakpakan mò si Hwàn pagkaraàn nang kanyà ng talumpáte`. Applaud Juan when his speech is done. 275. pára like is followed by a conjunctive (instead of a disjunctive) object expression whenever an indefinite object is meant (§ 68). The phrase so formed is often a conjunctive attribute. It is closely joined: Si Pédro màn pára ni Hwàn ay nábilanggò`. Pedro too, like Juan, was put in jail. But: May katawàn sya ng pára ng táo. He has a body like a human being. Normal constructions: Pára ka ng kúra. You are like a priest. Ang lamìg nang kanya ng kamày ay pára ng sa patày. The coldness of his hand is like that of a dead person. (Cf. § 209). 276. sábi saying, that said: Sábi daw nyà ay malakì ang súnog. He says, I am told, that the fire was big. 277. (B) alintána despite: Nàbálot ko nà ang manga librò, alintána sa karamíhan nitò. I have managed to pack the books, in spite of their number. 278. áyon according to (giving the source of a statement): Áyon sa sábi nang marámi ay màpàpaghuli na ràw ang manga magnanákaw. According to what people say, the robbers are now near to being caught. 279. bukòd beside, in addition to: Bukòd sa asáwa ay may dalawà sya ng anàk. Beside his wife, he had two children. 280. dáhil reason, cause and its derivative dahilàn, both here in the sense: on account of: Hindí nakatahòl ang áso dáhil sa kanya ng kahináan. The dog was not able to bark, on account of his weakness, i. e. was so weak that he could not bark. Hinúle si Hwàn nang pulìs dahilàn sa paghárang na ginawá nya kina Andrès at kanila ng manga kaybígan. Juan was arrested by the policeman for having held up Andrés' party and their friends. Dahilàn sa kanya ng pagkàgúlat ay nápaupú sya. In his surprise he sank down on his chair. Note especially dáhil díto, dahil díto on account of this, therefore; the omission of ay, y is especially frequent, see § 120, A, and the example there given. Dáhil díto ay nadílat ang kanya ng manga matà. Through this his eyes were opened. 281. The particle káy, ké than, more than: Ang búnga ng itò y matamìs káy sa asúkal. This fruit is sweeter than sugar. malakàs ké sa kanyà stronger than he. The combination káy sa has so much unity that the sa is often repeated or used where unnecessary: so always before a proper name: Ang báta ng si Pédro ay mataàs nang kauntè` káy sa sa lamésa. Little Pedro is a bit taller than the table. lálu ng mabagsìk káy sa ríto more fierce than this; Ang báta ng si Pédro ay mataàs nang kauntè` káy sa kay Hwàn. Little Pedro is a bit taller than Juan. Sya y mabúte ng tumugtùg ké sa kay Hwána. She plays better than Juana. Si Hwàn ay magúlang káy sa kay Pédro. Juan is older than Pedro. Owing to the construction described at § 120 this construction may be ambiguous: Lálo ng malakì ang gálit ni Hwàn káy sa kay Pédro. Juan's anger is greater than Pedro's. 282. lában against: ang gálit lában sa kanyà anger against him, Ang kapangyaríhan ay ginàgámit nya lában sa kanya ng manga kaáway. He uses his power against his enemies. 283. líban except: Ang manga karumáta ng itò ay upahàn, líban na lámang sa ilàn. These carriages are hired, except only for a few. 284. The particle mulà` from and its derivative magmulà` starting from: ang gitnà` mulá sa magkábila ng dúlo the middle from both ends; ang kanyà ng manga súgat mulá sa paà hanggàng úlo his wounds from feet to head; mulá ríto from here. With disjunctive attribute of time instead of local attribute: mulá noòn from then on, from that time. 285. Words of manner with prefix pa- (see Morphology): Ang manga táo ay nagsipagtakbúhan papalabàs sa simbáhan. The people ran leaving (i. e. out of) the church. Ipinatúluy nya ang paglalakàd papuntà sa isa ng báhay. He continued walking (directed) toward a certain house. Commonest is patúngo directed towards, aiming for: Tumakbo syà patúngu sa ílog. He ran towards the river. Regular construction: Sya y papuntà sa lángit. He was on the way to Heaven. 286. The particle parà, pára (Spanish) for, equivalent to úkol (§ 288): Nagbwàl sila nang isa ng báka pára sa fiyèsta. They slaughtered a cow for the fiesta. Humúkay sila nang malálim parà sa patày. They dug a deep pit for the corpse. Pumútol ka bà nang damò parà sa kabáyo? Have you cut any grass for the horse? Also as conjunctive attribute, modifying an object expression: Sulat nà ang líham na pára kay Hwána. The letter for Juana is written. 287. tungkòl about, concerning: Nasiyásat nang hukòm ang lahàt nang bágay tungkòl sa kanila ng úsap. The judge inquired into all the matters relating to their suit. Cf.: ang tungkùl sa súnog the details about the fire. 288. The particle úkol is synonymous with parà (§ 286) and tungkòl: Humúkay sila nang malálim úkol sa patày. This phrase as predicate: Iyò y úkol sa manga hírap sa infiyèrno. This was about the sufferings in Hell. (6) words introducing subordinate phrases or predications. 289. Certain words precede words, phrases, and whole predications which are thereby subordinated to the main sentence as absolute attributes, loosely joined. The syntactic relation of these words to the expressions which they introduce seems to be the peculiar one described in § 54. However, some of them are plainly joined to their phrase by na, ng, and others end in -ng or -t. Most of them merely precede the phrase, others are closely joined. Finally, in a few cases predications apparently not introduced by any subordinating word are used as absolute attributes. 290. bagà (§ 216), in this sense always followed by màn (§ 221), although, is less used than káhit (§ 294). See also § 317. Baga màn nakapagpasyàl si Pédro, nátira kamì sa báhay. Although Pedro managed to take a walk, we staid home. 291. bágo, in this use before (in point of time), has closely joined position as regards its phrase: Ang manga kabáyo ng ginàgámit nang manga kanyunéros nang gubyèrno ay pinaíinum múna, bágo pakánin. The horses used by the artillery of the government are watered first, before they are fed. Nagkantáhan silà bágo naguwían. They sang together before they went home. Bágo sya y sumúlat ay makipagúsap ka sa kanyà. Before he writes have a talk with him. Magísip ka bágo ka sumagòt. Think before you answer. Balatan mò ang manggà bágu mo kánin. Peel the mango before you eat it. maluwat pà bágo mamatày ang mangkukúlam long before the sorcerer dies. In normal constructions bágo has the sense of new, recent: ang bágu ng báhay the new house; ang bágo ng táo an unmarried man, a youth; ang manga manòk na bágo ng bilè the chickens just bought; Bágu ng gáling sya sa sakìt. He is recently recovered from an illness. 292. hábang throughout, during, while probably consists of hába` length plus ng. Hábang sya y natùtúlog ay nakaraàn ang susò`. While he was sleeping the snail passed. Hábang pinagusápan nilà itò ang ikapitù ng báta` ay nása isa ng bitàk nang bangkò`. While they were discussing this, the seventh child was in a crack of the bench. Nàlùlugmok syà hábang panahòn sa isa ng malálim na kalungkútan. She was sunk constantly (literally: throughout time) in a deep sadness. A short phrase with hábang may be closely joined: Hindí nya natagalà ng angkinìn hábang búhay nya ang birtùd na iyòn. He did not succeed in keeping this quality as his own throughout (his) life. [8] 293. hanggàng as far as, to, until may be hanggàn limit, end plus ng; instead of the absolute construction the phrase is, however, often in local form. For lack of ang in the phrase see § 68. Naghintày sya hanggàng katanghalían. He waited till noon. Ang púno` ay tumúbo` hanggàng sa magbúnga. The tree grew until (it) bore fruit. Silà ay nagtakbúhan hanggàng sa dumatìng sila sa kanila ng báyan. They both ran until they arrived in their town. As predicate: Ang kúlang nang gátas ay hanggàng sa leèg nang bóte. The lack of milk is as far as the neck of the bottle, i. e. The milk goes only up to the neck of the bottle. 294. káhit (§ 245), with or without na, in the sense of although, no matter (cf. §§ 290. 317). The subordinate word or phrase has usually the form of a question; when it is an entire predication the predicate stands first: Tinalaga nyà ng sumáma, káhit na saàn sya dalhìn. He decided to go along, no matter where he was carried. Káhit na anò ang iyútos nya ay sinúsunòd. No matter what it was he ordered, (it) was obeyed. Káhit na madilìm ang gabì ay nagpasyal dìn si Pédro. Though the night was dark, Pedro nevertheless took a walk. Káhit na bahagyà ang ulàn ay nakabasà` nang karsáda. Though the rain was scanty, it sufficed to wet the streets. Káhit ulòl ang áso ay áyaw nya ng patayìn. Although the dog was mad, he did not want to kill it. Note the following instance, in which káhit na precedes its phrase as a closely joined attribute: Nàramdaman kò ang kalabìt nya sa ákin, káhit na akò natùtúlog. I felt his touch against me, even though I was asleep. Phrases with káhit may be closely joined to the main sentence: Nàpùpútol nya káhit na walá sya ng kasangkápan ang bákal nang kanya ng bìlanggúan. He managed, even though he had no tools, to cut the iron of his prison. ang táo káhit laláki o babáye na nagàári sa kanyà the person, man or woman, who owns it. 295. kaniyà`, kanyà` (§ 241) expressive of result, may with its phrase be subordinated. It then stands as a closely joined attribute of its phrase: Kanyá nya iníwan ang páyong ay sapagkàt nagtígil ang ulàn at lumiwánag ang lángit. The reason he left his umbrella (quasi-subject) was because the rain let up and the sky cleared. Accordingly we may analyze as subordinate such clauses as the following: Náupó sya sa tinìk, kanyá sya nápatindìg agàd. He sat down on a spine, so as to jump at once, i. e. that is why he jumped up at once. Cf., however, § 324. 296. The particle kapàg if, in case (of single events viewed as completed in the future, synonymous with pagkà, § 304), see § 300: Ang hiniràm nya ng kampìt ay iyo ng kúnin, kapag ipinùpútol na nyà nang káhoy. Take away the knife he borrowed if he uses it to cut wood. 297. kayà` (§ 219) is sometimes used exactly like kaniyà` (§ 295): Kayà` aku naparíto ay kùkúnin ku ang hiniràm mo ng librò. I am going to take the book you have borrowed, so that I have come here, i. e. I have come here to.... The act is expressed as a subordinate element, the purpose as the principal sentence. Nagpùpútol si Hwàn nang káhoy, kayá sya y wala ríto. Juan is cutting wood now, that is why he is not here. 298. The atonic particle kung preceding an expression of time states the time when of repeated occurrences: Gumàgámit kamì nang makapàl na damìt kung tagulàn. We use thick clothing in the rainy season. Nagtìtípon nang pagkáin ang manga langgàm kung tagáraw. The ants collect food in summer. Ang hùníhan nang manga íbon kung umága ay nakalìligáya. The chirping of the birds in the morning is gladdening. Ang iba ng táwo y mabúti pa ng makisáma káy sa isà ng kapatìd kung mínsan. An unrelated person is better to associate with than a brother at times. So: kung gabè at night, of nights, kung fiyèsta nang báyan during the (periodic) fiesta of the town, kung madilìm at dark, when it is dark, kung bahà` at flood-times, kung buwàn nang Húniyo in June. Occasionally the phrase with kung is closely joined: Hindí hasà` kung mínsan ang manga bágu ng patalìm sa Filipínas. In the Philippines new cutlery is sometimes without an edge (i. e. sold without an edge, to be sharpened by the purchaser). 299. With phrases in the form of a question (minus bà § 215 or bagà § 216) kung expresses indirect question. The expression so formed stands as quasi-subject or quasi-object (cf. §§ 157. 158) or as predicate: Naalaála nya kung papáno ang paggawà` nang salamangkà. He managed to recall how the trick was done. Ipináyu nya na kung sínu sa kanilà ang pinkamahúsay na magsalità` nang Latìn ay siya lámang kàkáin nang itlòg. He advised that whoever (kung síno) among them was the best at speaking Latin should be the one who alone ate the egg. Si Pédro ay nagíisìp kung saàn nya naíwan ang kanya ng páyong. Pedro is trying to recall where he left his umbrella. Nàlàláman mo bà kung saàn sya nároon? Do you know where he is? Ang manga táo-ng-báyan ay nagsiyásat kung maàári sila ng magtayò nang isa ng mákina nang bìgásan sa kanila ng báyan. The townspeople considered whether they could put up a machine for thrashing rice in their town. Ang siyásat ni Hwàn sa kanya ng pagparíto ay kung ilà ng kúra ang nàrìritò sa áti ng báyan. Juan's inquiry when he got here was how many priests there are in our town. 300. Introducing other phrases kung has the sense of if, whenever (of non-actual occurrences viewed as unreal, hypothetical, or repeated); compare disjunctive attributes of time (§ 192, single actual occurrence), pag (§ 303, single non-actual occurrence, simultaneous), kapàg and pagkà (§§ 296, 304, single non-actual precedent occurrence), words with prefixes in p- (§ 274, single occurrence, actual or non-actual), tuwè` (§ 307, repeated actual): Kung dumatìng si Hwàn ay umalis kà. If Juan comes, go away. Kung dumatìng sya ay sabíhin mo ng maghintày. If he comes, tell him to wait. Kung úulàn ay gamítin mo ang kapóte. If it rains, use your raincoat. Bìbilhin kò ang kabáyo ng iyòn kung máy-roon akò ng marámi ng kwaltà. I should buy this horse, if I had enough money. Note: Kung sa pagaasáwa namàn, akò y nagkaroòn nang dalawà. And as to (literally if) taking a wife, I had two. 301. In the same sense kung with dì` (§ 237) or hindì` (§ 239) if not, precedes the second, positive member of a contrast: unless, but rather, beside, except (Cf. palà § 228): Hwag kà ng makàpakikáin-káin kung hindí ka inàanyáhan. Don't be taking meals with people unless you are invited. Walà ng ibà ng nagpàpahírap sa kanyà kung hindí kayò. There is no one else who causes suffering to him, beside you. 302. ngayòn (§ 262), when subordinating, is conjunctively joined to its clause: Ngayò ng áraw na yitò y dárating silà. On this very day they will arrive. Ngayò ng táo ng iyòn ay patay nà, bákit namàn...? Now that this man is dead, why...? 303. The atonic particle pag gives the time when of a single non-actual occurrence; cf. § 274 and see § 300. Pag akò ay pagòd, natùtúlug akò nang maluwàt. When I am tired, I sleep late. Pag paputòl mo ng hiníwa` ang pakuwàn ay hindí màbìbilì ang banda ng púno`. If you cut the watermelon crosswise, you will not be able to sell the stem-end. Magmùmurahàn sila ng dalawà pag nagkíta. The two will revile each other when they meet. 304. The particle pagkà (synonymous with kapàg, § 296) gives the time immediately after which of a single non-actual occurrence; cf. § 274 and see § 300. Pagka ikàw ay nahúlog ay masàsaktan kà. When you have taken a fall you will be hurt. 305. The particle patì including; cf. § 68. ang boò ng katawàn patì manga matà at taínga the whole body, including eyes and ears. 306. The particle sapagkàt (sa pagkà at ?) because, for: Sapagkàt ang pári ng itò ay nagakála ng manga walà ng pinagarálan ang kanyà ng sinèsèrmunan ay hindí sya nagpílit.... Because this priest thought his hearers were uneducated people, he took no pains.... Ipinapútol nya ang kanya ng dalíre`, sapagkàt tinubúan nang kànser. He had his finger amputated because there was a cancer on it. For a phrase with sapagkàt as predicate see example under kanyà`, § 241. 307. The particle tuwè` (§ 244) in this use tells the time when always of actual repeated occurrences: whenever, every time. It is conjunctively joined to its clause: Pinaghàhatdan nyà nang gátas ang báyan twì ng umága. He delivers milk in the town every morning. Pumàparíto ang médiko twi ng makalawà. The doctor comes every other day. Si Hwàn ay nakìkipagluksúhan twi ng idinàdáos ang manga palarò` kung fyèsta nang báyan. Juan takes part in the jumping contest whenever games are held in the fiesta of the town. Twì ng papásuk akò sa síne sa áki ng kúyang ay áyaw sya. Every time I ask my brother to take me to the moving-picture show, he refuses. 308. úpang in order to, so that (úpa pay, wages ?): Sila y naúupo pa lámang úpang mananghále`. They are just sitting down to eat the noon meal. Syà y tumayò` sa bubungàn nang báhay úpang tanawìn ang súnog. He stood up on the roof of the house to watch the fire. Kantahàn ninyò ang máy sakit úpang sya y malibàng. Sing for the sick man so that he may be cheered. Tináwag nilà ang isa ng kálaw úpang siya ng magìng hukòm. They called an owl so that (it) might be the one who served as judge. 309. yámang while, as: Ang púno nang unggò ay namatày yámang ang sa pagòng ay tumúbo`. The tree of the monkey died while that of the turtle grew. 310. Predications and similar phrases (impersonal or anaphoric) as absolute attributes, in the meaning of disjunctive attributes of time, are not uncommon: Madali-ng-áraw pa lámang ay nàròroòn na silà. (When) it was still but dawn, they were already there. Makása-m-pu ng táwag nà ay walá pa syà. (At) the tenth call he was still not there. Makaraàn ang ila ng sandalì` ay sinábi nya sa susò`.... (When) a few moments had passed, he said to the snail.... May ápat na pu ng taòn na sya sa lúpa ng Katagalúgan ay hindí pa nya nàtutúhan ... (When) he had already been in the Tagalog country for about forty years, he had not yet learned.... Mínsan pumásuk sya sa simbáhan ay nárinig nya.... Once (when) he went to church, he heard.... Other examples at 26,21. 28,11. 66,15. 9213. 4. Serial groups. 311. The serial relation is expressed in part explicitly by particles and in part by parataxis, parenthesis, and anacolouthic constructions. (1) coordinating particles. 312. The most important of the coordinating particles is at, t; as some of the others end in -t, they may be felt to contain at; cf. the similar ending in other particles, § 213; t is used after syllabics, n, and ` (see Phonetics), but even here at is commoner. When a sentence begins with a coordinating particle, the latter gives expression to the connection with the preceding sentence (as in English sentences beginning with And ... or But ...) 313. at, t and connects words, phrases, or entire predications. báro t salawàl blouse and trousers (native costume), ang tapunàn nang béha at upòs the place for throwing cigarette-ends and cigar-stubs, dalawa ng, pù t dalawà twenty-two, kung mínsan at malakì ang gálit nang amà ... sometimes, when the father's anger was great ... (kung goes with both of the members connected by at). When more than two elements are connected, at is used generally between the last two: sina Pédro, Hwàn, at Andrès the group consisting of Pedro, Juan, and Andrés. isa ng líbo, walo ng daàn, walo ng pu t ánim 1886. 314. at is used in a few common phrases: isà t isà everyone ibà t ibà various: ang mangà taga ibà t iba ng báyan people from various towns; Iba t ibà ang kúlay nang kanya ng pananamìt. His clothes are of various colors. at ibà pà and so forth, and other; ang tsíko, súha`, santòl, ... at iba pà the custard-apple, grape-fruit, santol, and so forth; ang manga háyop at iba pà ng árì nang pàmahalaàn the live stock and other belongings of the government. 315. at has occasionally a decidedly adversative tone; so, for instance, at 78,31. 316. Frequently at has subordinative coloring, the second of the members joined expressing: cause: Hintày ka múna t hindí pa akò nakapápahingà. Make a halt first, for I am not yet rested. Íbig mo bà ng kumáin sa ámin?--Salámat, áyaw ko t kakàkáin ko pa lámang. Do you want to eat with us?--Thank you, no, for I have only just eaten. Buksan mò ang pintò` at íbig ko ng pumások. Open the door, for I want to go in. result: Ano t dí ka lumákad nang matúlin? Why don't you walk fast? Ano ang íbig mo t nàrìrito kà? What do you want that you have come here? i. e. What have you come here for? So especially: anò ang dáhil at...? what is the reason that...? purpose: Umalìs sya t makìkipútol nang damò. He has gone to help cut grass. temporal succession: Hindí sya nakaratìng nang ápat na pu ng taòn sa gúlang at sya y namatày. She had not reached forty years in her age, when she died. a subordinate quasi-subject: Sinábi nang manghuhúla sa iyò t hindi maláyo ríto ang kawàwalan nang iyo ng singsìng. The fortune-teller told you that the place where you would lose your ring is not far from here. Sinábi ko nà sa iyò at hwag kà ng maíngay. I have told you already not to make any noise. [9] 317. The subordinating value of at appears especially in certain expressions which it forms with other particles: (1) at bakà` lest (cf. § 235): Hwag kà ng magpatihúlog diyàn sa kátre at baká ka masaktàn. Don't throw yourself from that bed, for you might hurt yourself. (2) at nang so that (cf. § 192 f.): Magiinùm ka nang gátas at nang ikàw ay tumabà`. Drink milk so that you may grow stout. (3) bagà màn at although (cf. § 290): Baga màn at umúulàn ay nagsísipaglarò silà. Although it is raining they are at play. (4) kayà` at so that (cf. § 297): Napapúpunta nilà ang pelóta kayà t báwat isa sa kanilà ay nakaabàng. They direct the ball so that every one of them is on guard. (5) káylan màn at every time that, whenever, synonymous with tuwè ng, § 307 (cf. káylan màn § 262): Si Hwàn ay táwa nang táwa káylan mà t márinig nya ang manga katatawanà ng bahági nang kwènto. Juan laughs and laughs every time he hears the funny parts of the story. 318. dátapuwat but is the commonest adversative coordinating particle. It is used also when the two members are not logically but only formally in contrast: Ang húni nang pipìt ay mahína`, dátapuwat mataàs ang tóno. The chirping of the stone-sparrow is weak, but high-pitched. Pùputúlin ko ang lúbid kung máy-roon akò ng laséta, dátapuwat walá ako. I should cut the rope if I had a knife, but I have none. Si Pédro ay hindí dumatìng, dátapuwat iba ng táo ang naparíto. Pedro did not arrive; it was someone else who came here. 319. The particles nì hindì` (§§ 253. 239) connect coordinate elements in the sense of nor: Sya y hindí nagsísimbà nì hindí nangúngumpisàl nì hindí rin nagmàmáno sa páre`. He neither went to church nor confessed nor kissed the priest's hand. The hindì` may, as an anaphoric element, be left off after another hindì`: Ang kanila ng kamày ay hindí nila máilabàs sa bútas nì ibig namàn sila ng bitíwan ang lamàn nang nyòg. They cannot take out their hands from the opening, nor are they willing to let go the cocoanut-meat. 320. The particle ngúnit is equivalent with dátapuwat, but is less common: Hindí sya nagísip, ngúnit sumagòt karáka-ráka. He did not reflect but answered at once. 321. The atonic particle o or (probably Spanish): isa ng malakì ng áso o báboy a large dog or pig; Dikdikìn kità sa lusòng o lunúrin kita sa ílog? Shall I bray you in a mortar or drown you in the river? Frequently the combination o kayà` (§ 219) is used; it is loosely joined: Ang kapangyaríha ng itò y gáling sa dimóniyo o kayà y mána sa magúlang. This power comes from a demon or else is inherited from one's parents. 322. The particle subálit but is less common than its equivalents dátapuwat and ngúnit: Aku sána y páparoon sa Balíwag, subálit hindí ako nátulòy, dahilàn sa isa ng karamdáman. I was going to Baliwag, but I did not keep on, on account of an illness. (2) paratactic sentences. 323. A vocative joins another sentence: Hintú na kayò, manga báta`! Stop, children! Té na, baláe! or: Tara nà, baláe! Come on, old man! 324. Contrast, cause, result, detail, etc. are sometimes paratactically expressed; in some cases it seems uncertain whether the second element is paratactic or subordinate, so especially when it begins with kaniyà` (§§ 241. 295): Sina Pédro, Hwàn, at Andrès ay magkakasamahà ng nagtánod sa isà ng dúlo nang tulày; sina Felípe, Andùy, at Mariyáno sa ikalawà ng dúlo. Pedro, Juan, and Andrés are standing guard together at one end of the bridge; Felipe, Andoy, and Mariano at the other. Hindí ko gustò iyàn, ibà ang áki ng gustò. I don't like that, I want something else. Hwag kà ng umyàk, Maryà, baká ka himatayìn. Don't weep, Maria, you might have a fainting-fit. Ang kantà nang báta ng si Hwàn ay kanya ng nalimútan, kanyà hindi tulà` ang kanya ng kinantà. Little Juan forgot his song, that is why what he sang was disconnected. Siya ngà`, siyà ang nagbigày sa ákin nang bágo ng búhay. Yes, she; it was she who gave me new life. Sya y may famíliya; bukòd sa asáwa ay may dalawà sya ng anàk. He had a family; beside his wife he had two children. (3) parenthesis. 325. Not infrequently explanatory elements are inserted into a sentence parenthetically: Tatlò ng magkakaybígan, isa ng páre`, isa ng manggagámut, at isa ng sundálo ... Three friends, a priest, a physician, and a soldier ... sa háyop namàn, karanyúwa y ang bábuy ... against animals, usually a pig ... wala ng ulàm, asìn at kánin lámang there was no meat, only salt and boiled rice. Further cases at 54,5. 86,21. 100,23. 108,29. 326. Often the parenthetic element is descriptive: malakàs kumáin, katimbàng nang dalawà katáo great at eating, a match for two persons; nang pinagkatamàn na walà ng patìd, ápat na pu ng paà ang hába` shavings without a break, forty feet in length. Similar cases at 80,39. 86,29. 118,43. 120,2. 327. Especially common are parentheses describing the temporary state or situation of something: Ang mànanalò ng pangkàt at ang kanila ng manga kaybígan, magkakasáma ng tinùtugtugàn nang kanila ng bànda nang músika, ay agad-agàd na nagpàpaséyo. The winning team and their friends, all together accompanied by the playing of their band, at once form a parade. Nakaratìng sila sa kanila ng báhay, dalà nila ang súpot nang kwaltà. They arrived at their house, bearing the bag of money. Other cases at 92,22. 98,21. 114,42. (4) anacolouthon. 328. In other cases a breaking off of the construction rather than an insertion seems to take place: Ang manga hindí nagsísitugtòg ang katungkúlan ay kumantà. Those who do not play, their duty is to sing. Gáya ko, akò y paráti ng nàhàhábul nang manga áso. Like me, I am often pursued by dogs. Pabulòng lámang kung silà y magsàlitáan. In whispers only (predicate) when they talk together. The organic construction would probably be: Pabulòng lámang ang kanila ng pagsasàlitáan. Their conversation is only in whispers. Kung kanya ng pakánin ay wala ng ulàm. When (they, anaphoric) are fed it is without meat. 329. While direct quotations often enter into normal constructions as predicate (§ 114), as conjunctive complement (§ 159), or as disjunctive object (§ 186), they are often joined by a breaking off of construction. In this case their relation to the rest of a sentence may resemble that of a subject; this happens especially when the sentence begins with the quotation or with part of it. If ay, y were used many of these sentences would be regular: "Magáral ka ng mabúti," sinábi ni Hwàn sa kanya ng anàk. "Study well" was said by Juan to his son. "Dalawà!" isinigàw nang bulàg. "Two!" was shouted by the blindman. "Sa damdam kò," ang sagòt ni Dyégo, "ay akò ang pinakamakínis." "In my opinion," was Diego's answer, "I am the cleverest." Similarly their relation may resemble that of a disjunctive object (instrumental type, § 186), but nang is not used. This happens if the quotation follows active words of saying: Si Hwàn namàn ay sumagòt: "Matàr!" Juan then answered: "Matar!" 330. This peculiar construction of direct quotations is extended to some cases that are not exactly quotations but may be viewed as such: Ang boò ng ása ko ang kandidáto ng si Manikìs ang nàgùgustuhàn nang manga táo; hindí palà, kung hindí ang kandidáto ng si Sàntos. It was my whole expectation that the candidate Maniquís would be the one chosen by the people; but no, it was the candidate Santos. Ang paniwála nang manga táo si Sang-Hwàn ay sya ng sànto ng nagpápaulàn. It is the belief of the people that San Juan is the saint who makes rain. C. MORPHOLOGY. 1. Composition. 331. Compound words (i. e. words resembling in form a succession of two or more words, but diverging in meaning from such a succession) are treated phonetically like groups of words in the phrase (§§ 33. 34). If the first member ends in syllabic, n, or glottal stop, the particle ng appears before the second member. In meaning, compound words resemble a phrase in which the word corresponding to the first member is modified, in disjunctive attribution, by the word corresponding to the second: báhay-aklátan library-building: báhay nang aklátan. The meaning of the compound is, however, more specialized than that of the phrase. Exceptions as to meaning are: (1) the copulative compound áraw-gabì, formed on the model of doubled words, such as áraw-áraw, gabi-gabì (§§ 258. 343.); (2) kapatìd-kongkristiyános, a foreign product; (3) máy-roòn, equivalent to máy, which has been viewed as a compound because its construction (§ 138) differs from that of the phrase máy roòn (which would not require the particle ng, §§ 252. 263). Similar in form to compound words are words derived from a phrase (§ 332). Examples of regular compounds: ang báhay-báta` the womb, báhay-gúya` the womb of an animal (gúya` the young of an animal), báhay-pàhayagàn newspaper office, publishing house, Báhay-Paníki Bat-House (name of a town, paníki a bat), báhay-pintáhan paint-shop; Itò y bigay-loòb lámang nya sa ákin. This is merely a concession he makes to me as a favor; ang lalawíga-ng-Pampàngga, ang provìnsiya-ng-Pampàngga Pampanga Province, cf. ang provìnsiya nang Pampàngga; pilìk-matà eyelash (pilìk fin, lash); ang Sàmáha-ng-Sumúlong the Sumulong Company; ang tánud-báhay the watchman of a house, tánud-pálay watchman of a rice-field. A member of a compound may consist of an entire phrase (cf. § 332): Bìgása-ng-Sumúlong-at-Kasamahàn Rice-mill of Sumulong and Company (equivalent to Bìgásan nila Sumúlong at Kasamahàn); ang dúlo-ng-bandà-ng-kánan the right-hand end (ang bandà ng kánan the right). Specialization and transference of meaning are especially marked in hampas-lúpa` (literally: beating of the ground) tramp, vagabond; kápit-báhay not only neighboring house, but also neighbor: Ang báhay ni Hwàn ay áki ng kápit-báhay, but also: Si Hwàn ay áki ng kápit-báhay; kápit-báyan neighboring town, but also person from a neighboring town; Sawi-ng-pálad siyà. He is unlucky (literally unhandy of the palm). For the other occurrences of compounds see Index under báhay, bakàs, bànda, bantày, básag, báyad, báyan, búnga, bútas, daàn, hánap, ílog, kalabàw, kapuluàn, kasamaàn, kasawiàn, kasiraàn, kinamatayàn, lúpa`, médiko, paà, pamatày, pantày, piráso, púno`, sàmáhan, táo, trabáho, úbos. 2. General features of word-formation. 332. Many words are analyzed into (1) recurring affixes, (2) doubling, (3) reduplication, and (4) a recurring unanalyzable element bearing the material meaning, the root. The place of the root may be taken by a word in turn showing derivation by these processes, or by a compound word, or even by a phrase. Other words, root-words, contain only the unanalyzable element. Other modifications affecting the meaning are shifting of the accent toward the end of the word, and the use of secondary accents. Modifications not affecting the meaning, but merely accompanying those already named, are sound-variation and retraction of the accent toward the beginning of the word. The same morphologic elements may be variously distributed; it is most convenient and corresponds most nearly to the speech-feeling to describe these differences as though they were due to different successions in which the modifications are applied: sumùsúlat is súlat reduplicated and with infix -um-; but (nag-)tùtumirà is tirà with infix -um-, then reduplicated (plus prefix nag-). The part of a word to which a modification is (in this sense) said to be added will be called the underlying word (or phrase): in sumùsúlat the infix -um- is added to the underlying word sùsúlat, in (nag-)tùtumirà reduplication is added to the underlying word tumirà; in ikasa-m-pù` the tenth the prefixes ka- and i- are successively added to the underlying phrase sa m pù` ten. Roots not actually occurring in this book as independent words will be written with a hyphen prefixed (-káin), except in unmistakable lists of roots. 333. The root. Except for some pronoun forms and particles, the roots have two or more syllables and are almost always accented either on the last (oxytone roots) or on the next-to-last (barytone roots): báhay house, kamày hand. Some disyllabic roots are formed as though a single syllable were repeated: bitbìt, budbòd, bungbòng piece of unsplit bamboo, damdàm, dibdìb chest (part of body), dikdìk, dingdìng (dindìng, § 20), gága, hinhìn, ladlàd, laglàg, lingkìng, lublòb, mangmàng, ningnìng, padpàd, pangpàng, pukpòk, satsàt, siksìk, singsìng, sísi, súso breast, nipple, sutsòt, tadtàd, tiktìk, tingtìng (tintìng), tugtòg, tuktòk, tungtòng (tuntòng), ulòl. Of the roots of more than two syllables some similarly repeat one or two syllables: alaála, babáye (see § 345), bulaklàk, lipumpòn (beside lípon). Others appear as though a syllable -al- or -ag- were infixed (or prefixed) before the first syllabic: alagàd (cf. agàd`), balahíbo fur, hair on the body, balíkat, balíta`, Balíwag, balúbad, baluktòt, dalága, dalamháte`, dalandàn, dalanghíta`, dalángin, halakhàk, haláman, halíge, halimbáwa`, halimhìm, kalabòg, kalákal, kalasìng, kalaykày, kaluskòs, palakà`, salakàb, salákay, salakòt a rain-hat of palm-leaves, salapè`, salawàl, salaysày, salità`, salúbong, salúkoy, talastàs, talungkò`,--bagábag, bagáso bare stalk, of sugar-cane or corn (Spanish brazo, whence Tagalog baráso arm, assimilated to this type?), Hagúnoy, lagablàb, lagánap, pagakpàk, sagása`, sagitsìt. In some instances roots of the same or similar meaning resemble each other in form. This is commonest in loan-words, where different degrees of assimilation exist side by side: biróke, bitóke blow-gun bullet (Spanish bodoque); palànsa, pirìnsa flatiron (Spanish plancha). It occurs also, however, in native (or anciently assimilated) roots: aniyáya`, yáya`; ánib, sánib (for sa ánib?); balíta`, salità`; bitàw, bitìw; bugòk, bulòk; bungánga` mouth, maw (nang hurnò of the oven, nang kalàn of the stove), sungánga` a blow on the mouth; dinìg, kinìg; ípon, lípon (lipumpòn, above), típon; laàn, taàn; luhòd, túhod; manghà`, tanghà`; matày, patày; hantày, hintày. When syllables of a root resemble affixes, there is always possibility that the root may be interpreted as a derived word by the speech-feeling, no matter whether historically it be such or not. Thus the Index will show many roots whose initial syllables are identical with prefixes; the other cases will be mentioned under the various affixes. 334. Affixation. Prefixes are added to the initial of the underlying word: nag-tirà; infixes before the first syllabic: t-um-irà, um-alìs; suffixes to the end: tìrá-han. Affixes are occasionally accompanied by retraction of accent: itò, d-íto. See §§ 343,c. 358,c.e. 481,c. 485,a. 523. 528,d. In the following cases affixes are accompanied by sound-variation: (a) prefixes: (1) The prefixes ending in g are treated phonetically as though they were separate words; this happens occasionally with other prefixes (§ 34). (2) Initial d of the underlying word becomes r after the syllabic of a prefix in the roots listed in § 17. The change is constant only in the commonest formations: always pa-raàn, but naká-daàn beside naká-raàn. Striking irregularities at §§ 407,a. 468. (3) The prefix i- and in some formations the prefix ka- contract with a following syllabic (§ 31): iy-ánib (for i-ánib), íwan (for i-íwan), ka-yibíg-an (for ka-ibíg-an), kàwáwa` (for ka-áwa-áwa`). See §§ 368. 401. 421. 426,b. 475,a. 481,c. 485,a. (4) The prefixes ending in ng (mang-, nang-, pang-) alter a following initial, always in much-used words, frequently in others. Before an initial syllabic the ng is treated as though it belonged to the underlying word and not to the prefix. This appears in reduplication (§ 336). Initial p, b, t, d, s, are often, initial k is always changed to the corresponding nasal: pamálo` (pálo` with pang-), but also pang-pa-rikìt; pamilmìt (bilmìt), but also pang-bambò; panáli` (táli`), but also pang-takìp; panalángin (dalángin), but also pang-dilìg; na-naríwa` (saríwa`), but also pang-sakày; nangapà` (kapà`). Where the change is not made, the ng may be assimilated to dentals (§ 20): mandurúkit beside mangdudúkit. Before nasals the ng is usually lost: namahála` (mahála` with nang-). See pang- and mang- in List of Formations. (5) The prefix hin- and its compounds give rise to a few similar changes, see §§ 357,b. 376,a. 518. (6) For occasional irregularities of prefixes see §§ 347,b. 481,d. 528. (b) infixes: (1) Where -in- is infixed in a word beginning with l, w, or y, this initial is usually interchanged with the n, so that, practically, we have a prefixed ni- instead of an infixed -in-: ni-lúto` (beside less common l-in-úto`), ni-walìs (beside w-in-íka`), ni-yáya`. See §§ 359 ff. 374 ff. (2) Where words beginning with syllabic, h, l, w (and y) have the prefix i- and the infix -in-, the latter is almost always used as a prefix, preceding the i-: in-iy-útos, in-íwan (for in-i-íwan), in-i-hatìd, i-ni-lúto` (beside less common i-l-in-úto`), in-i-wisìk. See § 368. (3) On -um- see § 348,b. (c) suffixes: (1) The suffixes (-an and -in) after a syllabic take an initial h: luksú-han. (2) Final d always becomes r before a suffix: lakar-àn (lákad). (3) When used in the formation of transient derivatives, as well as in some other of their uses, the suffixes are accompanied by irregular modifications of certain roots. Some roots ending in syllabic are treated as if they ended in glottal stop; they are amà, kíta, matà: ama-ìn, kitá-an, matá-an. Others are treated as though they ended in n; they are paà, tálo, táwa: paa-nàn (beside regular paa-hàn), talú-nan, tawá-nan. Other roots lose the syllabic of the last syllable, as well as a final glottal stop which may follow this; if the syllabic is final, the suffix adds h: asìn asn-àn, bigày bigy-àn, bilì bil-hàn, mulà` mul-àn. The roots so treated are: asìn, bigày, bilì, bukàs, dalà, hatìd, higà`, ibà (but also regular iba-hàn), eskuwéla, gawà`, káin, kamìt, lagày, lakì, likòd, masìd, mulà`, punò`, pútol (but also regular putúl-an), sakày, sákit, subò, sunòd, tángan, tibà`, tingìn, tirà (but also regular tirá-han), ulì`, upò`, walà`. Still other roots add assimilation, dissimilation, or metathesis of consonants to the loss of vowel: ának angk-àn, atìp apt-àn, danìw (? see § 421) ka-raniyúw-an, datìng datn-àn, gílid ta-ligd-àn (beside regular ta-gilír-an), halìk hagk-àn, hanggà hangg-àn (i. e. the h of -han is lost), kinìg kingg-àn, silìd sigl-àn, tanìm tamn-àn, tuwìd ka-tu-tur-àn. Entirely irregular are the following: alaála alala-hánin (-hánin for -hin), aniyáya anyá-han, hári` ka-hariy-àn ka-hary-àn (beside regular pag-harí-an), íhip híp-an, ílag inlag-àn (for ilag-nàn? but also regular ilág-an), kawáyan kwayan-àn (beside regular kawayan-àn), kilála kilan-làn (for kilal-nàn?), kúha kú-nin, larò` laruw-àn larw-àn (beside regular laru-àn), pulò` ka-puluw-àn ka-pulw-àn (beside regular ka-pulu-àn), sála sang-làn (for sal-nan? also ka-salá-nan and regular salá-han), sundò` pagkà-sunduw-àn (beside regular -sundu-àn), táo ka-taw-àn (? see § 422, also regular ka-taú-han), totoò tòto-hánan (-hánan for -hàn). 335. Doubling. In certain formations the underlying word, if disyllabic, is repeated; the phonetic treatment is the same as that of successive words in a phrase (§ 34): agad-agàd, gabi-gabì, ápat-ápat, pa-lígid-lígid. If the underlying word has more than two syllables, only the beginning of it, inclusive of the second syllabic, is repeated, and the final syllabic of this repeated part has a primary accent: kaní-kaníno, kaní-kanilà, nag-kagá-kagalìt (underlying word ka-galìt). 336. Reduplication. In some formations the beginning of the underlying word, including the first syllabic, is repeated, sù-súlat, á-akiyàt. Words with reduced i or u (§ 27) reduplicate with i, u: maka-sí-siyà, maka-sí-syà. Note the foreign words: krùs nag-kú-kurùs, trabáho nag-tá-trabáho. Initial d of the roots listed in § 17 often becomes r after the reduplication: k-in-à-dò-roon-àn (doòn), nag-dá-daàn (daàn). When a prefix which involves change of initial comes before a reduplicated form, the latter has the changed initial both in the reduplicative syllable and in the underlying part: nà-rò-roòn (doòn), pa-ngu-ngumìt (umìt with pang-, § 334, a, 4; also: pang-u-umìt) pútol pa-mu-mútol (pútol with pang-). 337. Accent-shift. In certain formations the accent is displaced one syllable toward the end of the word: súlat sulàt. This is especially the case before suffixes forming transient words: súlat sulát-an. In some formations with suffixes the accent moves two syllables toward the end of the word: súlat sulat-àn. Certain roots are especially given to this change and show it in formations where it is not regular. In these roots the accent-shift is more or less clearly and regularly connected with a modification of meaning. The roots are: ábot overtake, with shift: reach for, take hold of, pass, hand; e. g. pa-ábot let oneself be overtaken, pa-abòt something caused to be handed, ákay, álam, áwa`, áyaw, bába`, báhay, báya`, búlag, gálit, gísing, háyag, húli, lápit, láyo`, múra, sákit, sáma, síra`, tálo, táma`, táwa, túloy, úna. See Index. A few pairs of roots differing only in accent may possibly belong here, e. g. -ának family and anàk child. 338. Secondary accents. (1) In some formations a secondary accent is spoken on the initial syllable of the underlying word: alìs àlís-an, ka-galìt kàgalít-an, iyàk ìyák-an. If the first syllable is closed, the secondary accent is omitted: luksò luksú-han; so also if it is followed by consonant plus reduced vowel (§ 27): taniyàg tanyàg tanyág-an; and also if its own vowel is reduced: niyòg nyòg niyúg-an nyúg-an. There are some irregularities. See §§ 377,b. 383. 421. 421,b. 426,b. (2) Prefixes and reduplications often take a secondary accent: nà-pútol (different in meaning from na-pútol), sù-súlat. These secondary accents have phonetically the quality of primary accents when they come before short oxytone underlying words: ná-rinìg, á-akiyàt. If, however, the word is accented on a suffix, the accent on this is more audible and the secondary accent remains: nà-buks-àn. So also if there are two secondary accents: nà-rì-rinìg. Longer oxytone words not accented on a suffix vary; they have been transcribed as heard in each case: nag-sì-si-pag-larò` nag-sí-si-pag-larò`. 339. Indications. In the following description formations will be indicated as follows: prefixes thus: nag-; infixes: -um-; suffixes: -an; secondary accent on prefixes: nà-; doubling by "D", e. g. nag- D -an represents the formation seen in nag-aswàng-aswáng-an; reduplication by "r", with secondary accent by "R", e. g. pag- r (pag-pu-pútol), nag- R (nag-pù-pútol), -um- R (s-um-ù-súlat), nag- R -um- (nag-tù-t-um-irà); secondary accent on the first syllable of the underlying word by "S", e. g. S -an (àlís-an); accent-shift by "(1)" or "(2)", e. g. (1) describes the formation of sulàt from súlat; (1) -an (sulát-an); (2) -an (sulat-àn). 340. Summary of formations. The various formations group themselves into eight classes: 1. simple formations without characteristic prefix, expressing simple actions, objects, etc.; 2. formations with characteristic prefix pag-, expressing chiefly transitive actions; 3. characteristic prefix pang-, deliberate actions; 4. si-, action by more than one actor; 5. paki-, action along with others; 6. ka-, reciprocal, involuntary, and accidental; 7. pa-, causative; 8. pati-, reflexive. These indications are a mere rough guide: neither the characteristic prefix nor the meaning indicated runs through the entire group. The first three groups are the most important, and, to a large extent, each formation of the other five groups belongs also to one of the three primary groups. In each group there are four types of words: simple static, transient, abstracts of action, and special static. The simple static words involve no idea of active or passive; the transients are accompanied by abstracts, in which the transient occurrence is viewed as a static concept, and by special static words, which, though static, involve the idea of voice: simple static súlat a document, writing, letter; transient sumúlat wrote, sulátan is to be written to; abstract pagsúlat an act of writing; special static sulatàn a writing-desk (with idea of local passive). Each (active or passive, § 92) transient formation exists in two modes, actual and contingent, and each of these has two aspects, punctual and durative; the durative always has accented reduplication. The actual mode envisages the occurrence as actually having taken place or taking place: in the punctual aspect the occurrence is viewed in its entirety, without regard to duration, and hence always as past: nagáral studied, learned; in the durative aspect of the actual the occurrence is viewed as a process going on in time, past or present: nagàáral was studying, is studying, used to study, studied (repeatedly), studies. The contingent mode views the occurrence as not having actually taken place: the punctual aspect views it as possible, hypothetical, or commanded: magáral should study, study (as command); the durative as future from the point of view of the past or present: magàáral will study, was going to study. The punctual contingent form is used not only in commands and hypothetical clauses, but in subordinate predications and complements generally, even, for instance, after nang (§ 192 f.), and often, in such constructions, in competition with actual forms. It is often used, further, after hindì` (§ 238). When objectivized with ang, it expresses the possibility or circumstance of the occurrence: ang magáral a hypothetical studier, the circumstance that one might study. The abstracts of action are much used in the construction described at § 274. In addition to these more or less regular and systematized forms, there are various isolated formations, which will be discussed after the others. A systematically arranged list of formations precedes the Index. 3. Description of formations. I. Primary groups (zero, pag-, pang-). A. Simple static forms. (1) Root-words. 341. The uses of root-words cover a wide range of meanings, the diversity of which is due to the various material meanings of the roots. The rough grouping here made is a matter of convenience; the speech-feeling seems not to distinguish classes of roots or diverse employments of root-words. While a complete list of the examples occurring in the Texts and illustrative sentences will be given for nearly all other formations, the root-words are so numerous that it will be expedient merely to refer to the Index. (1) Root-words in many cases express object-ideas which are viewed as simple: ang báhay house, ang táo human being. (2) If the words containing a root have in common the idea of a quality rather than of an object, the root-word may express either the quality itself, or an object possessing the quality. (a) In the former case, it is generally a single occurrence of the quality that is expressed, not the quality in general, which is expressed rather by a collective with ka- and -an (§ 421 ff.), but this distinction is not fully carried out. The root-word generally stands in object construction. Examples: Ang búte ni Hwàn ay walá sa kanya ng úlo, dátapuwat násàsa kanya ng púso`. Juan's good quality lies not in his head, but in his heart. Si Pédro ay táo ng wala ng dangàl. Pedro is a person without honor. ang ínit nang tagáraw the heat of summer. Ang lálim nang balòn ay isà ng pantay-kawáyan. The depth of the well is the length of a bamboo-tree. Ang lamìg sa Amérika ay masyádo. The cold in America is excessive. Ang ligsè nang usà ay hindí gáya nang sa áso. The speed of the deer is not equal to that of the dog. Ang samá nang ságing na itò ay nása ugàt. The trouble with this banana-tree is at the root. ang taàs nang káhoy the height of the tree. (b) When expressing an object endowed with a quality, the root-word is in competition with words formed with the prefix ma- (§ 454). It usually stands as a predicate or as conjunctive attribute of another word. ang túbig na álat salt-water, ang dágat na álat the salt-sea, the ocean. Ang páko` ay baluktòt. The nail is crooked. Ang patalìm ay báwal sa manga báta`. Children are not allowed to have sharp tools. Ang itlùg na yitò y bugòk (or: bulòk). This egg is rotten. Sya y bugòk. He is crazy. ang buwísit na alíla` a repulsive servant. Ikàw ay bwísit. You are a bore. Manga gíliw ko ng ginoò! Honored sirs! isa ng táu ng hámak a no-account person. ang táu ng lasìng the drunken man. Sya y lasìng. He is drunk. ang pulúbe ng lumpò the lame beggar. Sya y lumpò. He is lame. Si Hwàn ay isa ng mahàl na báta` sa kanya ng manga magúlang. Juan is a child dear to his parents. Múra ang manga síle sa panahò ng itò. Peppers are cheap at this time. Hindí pansìn ang piklàt sa mukhà nang dalága ng si Maryà. The scar on young Maria's face is not noticeable. ang táo ng panòt a bald-headed man. isa ng báya ng payápa` a tranquil town. Sya y pípe. He is dumb. Ang pintà nang bintána` ay putè`. The window is painted white. Sagàd ang kanya ng gupìt. His hair-cut is close. Sina Hwàn ay salàt sa pananamìt. Juan and his family are short of clothing. Akò y sawí sa pagsusúbo` sa báta`. I am in an awkward position for feeding the child. Sáyang ang báta ng si Hwàn. Little Juan is to be regretted. Isa ng táo ng sinungáling si Pédro. Pedro is a liar. Si Hwàn ay isa ng táo ng tanyàg. Juan is a renowned man. Tanyàg sya sa kanya ng kláse. He is at the head of his class. ang tigàs nang káhoy the hard part of the log. ang daà ng tumpàk the right road. si Untè` Shorty (as nickname). (3) If the words containing the root refer rather to an action or occurrence, the uses of the root-word are more varied. (a) The root-word may refer to the action itself; it is used of a single instance rather than of the action in general, which is expressed rather by abstracts of action, though the distinction is not always clear. The root-word so used is mostly in object construction. Examples: Ang anyáya sa ákin ni Hwána ay áki ng tinanggàp. I accepted Juana's invitation. May bálì` ang kawáyan. The bamboo has a break in it. May búhay pa ang púsa ng itò. This cat is still alive. Ang dalamhátì nang kanya ng inà ay malakì. His mother's grief is great. Sa damdam kò y nagumpisa nà ang malalamìg na áraw. I think (literally: In my feeling) the cold days have begun. Si Hwàn ay sya ng pumáyag sa hilìng nilà sa kanya ng sasakyàn. Juan was the one who acceded to their request for his vehicle. Ang húgas nang pinggàn ay marumè. The washing of the dishes is dirty, i. e. The dishes have been poorly washed. Ang kantà nang íbon ay maínam. The bird's song is pleasant. Ang kasàl ni Pédro at ni Maryà ay sa linggò. The wedding of Pedro and Maria will be on Sunday. ang áki ng lúlan sa trén my embarking (with all my goods) on the train. Ang pagakpàk nang manga táo ay nakabíbingi. The applause of the people was deafening. Ang páso` sa paà ni Pédro ay malakì. The burn on Pedro's foot is large. Ang pútol nang buhòk ni Hwàn ay bakìl-bakìl. Juan's hair-cut is uneven. Sa lúnes ang tagpú nila sa daà-ng-Balíwag. They are to meet on the Baliwag road next Monday. ang tahòl ni Batò ng Bákal the barking of Iron Stone (name of a dog). Ang támà nang báta` ay sa úlo. The child was struck on the head. Binigyàn ni Hwàn nang isà ng tapìk ang kaybígan nya ng si Pédro. Juan gave his friend Pedro a nudge. Ang kanya ng túlog ay mabábaw. His sleep is light. Ang upú nang Intsìk ay patalungkò`. The Chinese sit squatting. Butíhan mo ang yárì nang sambalílo. Put a good finish on (the making of) the hat. (b) The root-word may express an object by virtue of which the action becomes possible or has concrete manifestation; this use closely approaches transient passives of various kinds. Root-words in this use are most commonly conjunctive attributes, but the object construction, especially in the predicate, is frequent. Ang ágaw nya ng laruwàn ay inilagay nyà sa kahòn. The toys he snatched were put by him into a box. Síno sa manga táo ang ináko ni Mariyáno? Ang áko ni Mariyáno ay si Pédro. Which one of the men did Mariano relieve?--The one whom Mariano relieved is Pedro. Hwag kayò ng mamútol nang kawáya ng hindí ninyo ári`. Don't make a cutting of bamboo not owned by you; ang ári` property, ang may ári` the owner or master. Ang bigay nyà sa ákin nang Paskò nang Panganganàk na nagdaàn ay isa ng tabakéra. For last Christmas he gave me a tabatiere. ang bíhis nya ng damìt the (good) clothes she has put on (in place of her others). isa ng bíro` a joke. ang byày na isdà` sa palàisdáan the fish allowed to swim free in the fish-reservoir. ang dalà that carried; Dalà ni Hwàn ang lumbò. Juan is carrying the cup. ang dikìt nang apòy the blazing of the fire. Ang orasàn ni Hwàn ay gáling sa Parìs. Juan's watch comes from Paris. Ang tornìlyo ng itò y gámit sa mákina. This screw is used in the machine. ang gantì nya ng pála` the gift he gave in return. Ang kwáko ng itò ay ganti ng pála` sa ákin ni Hwàn. This cigar-holder is a return-gift to me from Juan. May hálo ng iba ng bágay ang gátas na itò. This milk has something else mixed in with it. háti ng gabì midnight. Ang hampàs na tinanggàp ni Hwàn sa kanya ng panginoòn ay isà ng kabàn. The whipping Juan got from his master was twenty-five strokes. May hárang na púno-ng-káhoy ang daà ng patúngo sa báriyo nang San-Visènte. The road toward the district of San Vicente has a tree obstructing it. Húle si Hwàn nang pulìs. Juan was arrested by the policeman. Ang igìb nya ng túbig ay marumè. The water he dipped from the spring is dirty. Ang binàbása nya ng librò ay kathà ni Risàl. The book he is reading was written by Rizal. Laàn (or: taàn) kay Pédro ang alaála ng itò. This present is reserved for Pedro. Ang lákad ni Hwàn ay ang panghihiràm. Juan's errand is to borrow something. Ang lúlan ni Hwàn sa kanya ng karitòn ay manga kahòn nang álak. Juan's load on his wagon is cases of liquor; ang lúla ng kasangkápan the loaded utensils. Ang manòk na yitò y lúto sa durúan. This chicken is roasted on the spit. Nàhúle si Hwàn sa tabì nang kanya ng nákaw na kabáyo. Juan was caught with the horse he stole. Ang pásak nang bangkà` ay bunòt nang nyòg at pagkìt. The boat is calked with cocoanut fibre and wax. Ang pígil ni Hwàn ay ang kabáyo. Juan is trying to restrain the horse. Ang pintàs ko kay Hwàn ay ang kanya ng bísyo ng paginòm. What I don't like about Juan is his vice of drunkenness. ang púlot anything picked up; an adopted child. ang isa ng pútol na púno-ng-káhoy a tree that has been cut up; Ang pútol nang káhoy ay nàpakaiklè`. The wood has been cut too short. Ang librò ay ang sadyá ko sa báhay ni Hwàn. The book is what I went to Juan's house for. Ang sakày sa trèn ay limà ng kompanyà ng sundálo. The people in the train are five companies of soldiers. Ang sangkàp nang manòk ay kalabása. The chicken is cooked with pumpkin. "Magsipagsísi kayò, manga táo ng makasalánan," ang sigàw nang kúra mulá sa pùlpito. "Repent, ye sinners," was the cry of the priest from the pulpit. isa ng súbo` a mouthful. Marámi sya ng tágo ng kwaltà. He has much money saved away. Ang tanìm nang búkid ay pálay na malagkìt. The field is planted with a sticky rice. Ang tanggàp nya ng bílin ay lubhà ng marámi. The commissions he received were numerous. Malakàs ang táwa ni Hwàn. Juan's laughter was loud. Ang táwag sa lugàr na itò ay Kinamatayà-ng-Kabáyo. They call this place Dead Horse. ang tungtòng that on which something stands; a mat on which dishes are set (specific name: dikìn). Ang túrù nang báta` ay ang mansánas sa mésa. The child is pointing at the apple on the table. Ang usísa` sa ákin ni Hwàn ay kung saan nàndon ang kanya ng sombréro. What Juan asked me was where his hat was. Walá sya ng uwì ng manga librò. He did not bring home any books. Ang talìm nang gúlok ay yári sa Yurúpa. The cutting-edge of the bolo is made in Europe. (c) Especially with the particle nà (§ 223) the root-word often expresses a brusque command; in this use it is in competition with transient forms. Dalí ka nang iyo ng pagtakbò. Hurry your running, i. e. Run faster. Hampàs na kayò, manga báta`, sa manga langgàm. Whip at the ants, boys. Hátì na nang mansánas. Divide up the apples. Hintú na kayò, manga báta`. Stop, children. Ísip na kayò kung anò ang kahulugàn nang áki ng bugtòng. Guess the meaning of my riddle. Láyas na! Get out! Lígù na! Take a bath! Luksu nà sa tinìk na iyàn. Jump across those spines. Sáma nà sa kanyà. Go to him. Táwag na nang manga polìs. Call the police. Tayò`. Stand up. Upú na. Sit down. (d) Repeated with nang (§ 191) root-words, as predicates, denote an actor in repeated and continuous action: Nàkíta ko ng pútol nang pútol si Hwàn nang tubò. I saw Juan cutting away at the sugar-cane. Similarly (see Index) bilì and táwa. 342. Root-words with accent-shift. Barytone roots are used as root-words with shift of accent to the last syllable to denote something which has been affected by the action, quality, or (in fewer cases) thing, which is denoted by the root. The particle nà is usually added. Agaw nà sa súnog ang manga laruwàn. The toys have been snatched from the fire. Awá na si Hwàn sa kanya ng pinarùrusáha ng anàk. Juan is already overcome with pity for his child, whom he is punishing. Ang áso ni Hwàn ay bahày. Juan's dog is grown up in the house, is completely domesticated. Ang báta ng si Hwàn ay bahày. Little Juan is shy, is unused to strangers. Bayad nà ang útang sa ákin ni Hwàn. Juan's debt to me is paid now. Bihis nà ang báta`. The child's clothes have been changed, The child is dressed up now. Bilang nà ang manga itlòg na itò. These eggs are already counted. Ang úlo ni Hwàn ay bilòg. Juan's head is round; or: Juan has been fooled; ang bilòg na tábo` the round dipper. Buhày ang áki ng inà. My mother is living. Sya y bulàg. He is blinded; or: He is blind; ang babáye ng bulàg the blind woman. Daing nà ang isdà`. The fish has been laid open. isa ng táo ng gutòm a hungry (or: gluttonous) person. Hatí na ang tubò. The sugar-cane is cut in two. Huli nà si Hwána sa trén. Juana is late for the train. Ang karnè ay ihaw nà. The meat is done. Init nà ang gátas. The milk is heated. Kayas nà ang kawáya ng itò. This bamboo is already smoothed. Ang pagkùkúnan nya nang itlòg ay ang kahò ng kulang nà. He will take eggs from the box that is already started (literally: incomplete, cf. Ápat na sèntimos ang kúlang nitò. This lacks four cents, is four cents too little). Lakàd kamì ng umwè`. We went home on foot. Lipas nà ang gamòt (ang pabangò`). The medicine (the perfume) is stale, has lost its strength. Lipas nà ang áki ng gútom. My hunger has disappeared. Pasò` ang lugàr na itò nang kanya ng kamày. This spot on his hand is burned; ang pasò` a pottery dish. Ang pagkakàgalítan ni Hwàn at ni Pédro ay pawí nà. The quarrel between Juan and Pedro is now allayed. Pigil nà ang kabáyo. The horse is under control now. Ang káhoy ay putul nà. The wood is now cut. Itò y sirá na. This is already ruined. Sunòg ang damìt na kanya ng pinirìnsa. The clothes which she ironed are scorched; sunòg na asúkal burnt sugar. Tamá na ang iyo ng pagkwènta. Now you have figured it correctly. Tipun nà an manga kalabàw. Now the carabao are rounded up. Tulis nà ang lápis. The pencil is sharpened. Turò` ang kanya ng dalíre`. His finger is stiff. This form occurs, in this book, also from the following roots (see Index): básag, búnot, gálit, gámit, hása`, kilála, lápad, límang, págod, sákop, sánay, súlat, tápos, tiwála`, túloy. (a) In the case of some roots this form is used like a simple root-word without accent-shift; these are roots in which the accent-shift expresses a modification of the material meaning; see § 337. So: alàm that known (see Index); Babá na riyàn sa iyò ng kinàùupàn! Come down from your perch! Ang sakìt na kanya ng tinítiis ay ang lagnàt na típus. The sickness from which he is suffering is typhoid fever. (ang sákit na kanya ng tinítiìs the grief he is enduring). Sama táyo sa pagbilì nang pálay. Let us be partners in buying rice. Cf. also hulì, above. (b) In oxytone roots, where the accent-shift cannot occur, our form is homonymous with the simple root-word: Bigti nà si Pédro. Pedro is now strangled. Bukas nà ang láta. The can is opened. Busug nà ang manga háyop. The animals have been fed their fill. Hintú na ang trén nang akò y sumakày. The train had stopped when I got on. Hubad nà ang báta`. The child is undressed now. Ang manga Igoróte ay hubàd. The Igorote go naked. Hungkuy nà ang bigàs. The rice is fanned now. Sya y kasàl. He (she) is married. Pantay nà ang lúpa`. The ground has been levelled. Nàkíta ko ng patìd ang sampáyan nang damìt. I saw that the clothes-line was broken. Punú na ang bóte ng itò. This bottle is already full. Tayú na ang báhay. The house is already erected. Tikwas nà ang káhoy. One end of the log is down. Similarly are used: angkìn, bilì, tadtàd, tuwà`. (2) Doubling. 343. Simple doubling. Simple doubling expresses explicit plurality or repetition, often with the idea of variation, intensity, or diminution: ápat-ápat four by four, four at a time, ang mata-matà trellis-work. Ang dúrù nya nang karáyom ay hindi parè-parého. Her stitches with the needle are not even. Sabày-sabày sila ng umalìs. They all went away at the same time. Similarly from: agàd, alìn, anò, áraw, bágay, bakìl, baluktòt, barà, gabì, gibà`, halò`, isà, lahàt, líbo, linggò, loòb, pantày, sári`, síno, sunòd, tulà`, untì`. (a) The simple root does not occur and the meaning is discrepant in paru-parò butterfly. (b) From derived words, in the same meaning: kaní-kanilà (ka-n-ilà § 528), kaní-kaníno (ka-n-í-no § 528), dalá-dalawà two by two, two at a time (da-lawà § 345), tatlu-tatlò three by three, three at a time (ta-tlò § 345). (c) With retraction of accent: Dálì-dáli sya ng tumakbò. He ran off like a flash. 344. (1) D. In some cases the accent is shifted; the meaning is the same: Putòl-putòl ang katawàn ni Hwàn nang áki ng màkíta. Juan's body was all cut up when I saw it. This form from: báhay, báyan, púnit, sábi, súlok. (3) Reduplication. 345. Simple reduplication. In a very few cases the place of the root-word is taken by the root with reduplication. The only clear case is tutulè ear-wax, root -tulè. The numerals dalawà two and tatlò three seem to be irregularly reduplicated forms of roots -lawà and -tlò (for -talò?), as a few of the derivatives seem to indicate. A number of words, treated in the following as simple roots, have, however, the aspect of this formation: babáye, bibingkà, bubuwìt a kind of mouse, gagambà, laláki, papáya (Spanish), tutubè, totoò. 346. Accented reduplication. Accented reduplication is used chiefly in transient forms (§ 348); distinct from this use seems to be that of numerals, in the meaning of only so many: àápat, íilàn, íisà; similarly dá-dalawà only two (from da-lawà) (§ 345). mámayà`, mámyà` seems to be felt as a simple root-word and has been treated as such. (4) pang-. 347. Of the two prefixes round which primary forms are grouped (§ 340), pag- is used only for abstracts of action (§§ 348. 350. 351); with pang- are formed words denoting the thing used for doing so and so, or as such and such: Nawalà` ang kanyà ng pangakála`. His power of thought left him. ang pangatìp that used for roofing, a shingle. Magpapútol ka, Pédro, nang manga kawáya ng pangbákod. Have some bamboo cut for a fence, Pedro. ang pangbambò a stick or club used for beating. pangbayò instrument for pounding rice, pestle. pangdilìg implements used for sprinkling. panggápas a slicer, a curved knife with saw-toothed edge. Ang ginámit nya ng panggupìt na guntìng sa damìt ay mapuròl. The scissors he used for cutting cloth were dull; also simply: ang panggupìt scissors, shears, ang panghampàs a whip. Ang ginawà ng panghárang sa daàn nang manga tulisàn ay isa ng gibà ng karitòn. The robbers used a broken-down wagon to make the obstruction on the road. Ang laséta ng itò ay pangháte` nang dáyap. This knife is used for cutting limes. ang panglípa` the sticky mud used for smoothing the threshing-floor. ang pangagínip a dream. pamitìk a single rein (one guides the animal by flicking it in various ways, cf. pitìk a fillip, a flick, a snap). pamatày in pamatay-kúto thumb, literally: that with which one kills head-lice (kúto). Pamútol nang buhòk ang guntìng na itò. These shears are used for cutting hair. Ang salawàl na yitò y sya kò ng pangsakày sa kabáyo. These are my trousers for horseback-riding. Ang manga pintò ng may pangsarà na gámit ay sumásara ng kúsa`. Doors that have closing attachments close themselves automatically. ang panáli` a halter or rope for tying up an animal. Ang kulilìng na ytò y sya kù ng panáwag nang alíla`. This bell is what I use for calling the servants; also: pangtáwag. Ang pangtayò nang halíge ay hindí dumating. The instruments for setting up posts (i. e. the cranes) did not arrive. Ang kalaykày ay sya kò ng ginámit na pangtípon nang manga bunòt na damò. I used the rake for piling up the uprooted grass. ang panúro` a pointer, anything used for pointing. Sya y may salawàl na pangupò sa damúhan at gayon dìn máy-roon syà ng pangupò sa sùgálan. He has trousers for sitting on the lawn and others for when he sits at the gaming-table. Similarly from, the following roots: áhit, áko`, alaála, anàk, bilì, bilmìt, dalángin, gamòt, hilámos, húli, ísip, ngalán, pálo`, pukpòk, sábong, takìp, tanìm, tiwála`. (a) This derivative from numerals denotes a thing used to fill such and such a place: ang pangápat that used as fourth, as: the fourth horse in a team; of similar meaning: panglimà fifth, pangánim sixth, pamitò seventh, pangwalò eighth, pangsiyàm ninth. From the ordinal (§ 416,a) is formed pangúna first. From phrases the higher numbers: pangsa-m-pù` the tenth (sa m pù` ten), panglabi-ng-isà the eleventh (labi ng isà), pangdalawa-ng-pù` twentieth, pamito-ng-pù` seventieth. (b) A few formations show irregularities: panukála` equivalent to pangakála` above, is felt to belong with akála`; cf. the similar insertion of u in paubáya` (§ 481,d); panginoòn master, does not seem to be felt as a derivative of ginoò and has therefore been treated as a separate root. Second and third are derived from the reduplicated form (§ 345) and show phonetic irregularity: ang pangalawà the second; one's second in a duel; pangatlò third, third horse in a gun-carriage; similarly pangatlo-ng-pù` the thirtieth. (c) From root with accent shift (§ 337) only panghulè the last (of an established series). B. Transients, abstracts, and special static words. (1) Active with -um- and abstract with pag-. 348. Of the active forms of the primary groups, that of the type with prefix zero expresses the actor in a simple action or process. Both of the punctual forms, actual and contingent, are made with infix -um-; the actual durative consists of the root reduplicated, with infix -um-; the contingent durative is reduplicated, but lacks the infix; the reduplication is in both cases accented. The abstract of action consists of the root with prefix pag-. Thus the forms are: p-um-útol, p-um-ù-pútol, p-um-útol, pù-pútol, pag-pútol. Examples: Umabang kà nang maglalakò nang gátas. Watch for a milkman. Sya y umágaw nang manga laruwàn. He snatched some toys. Sya y umáhon sa ílog (sa bundòk, sa gulòd). He went up the river (up into the mountains, up the hill). Pumútol ka, Hwàn, nang búho`, pagáhon mo sa bundòk. When you go up into the mountains, Juan, cut some slender bamboo. Umámin sila Pédro sa harapàn nang hukòm. Pedro and his band confessed before the judge. umámot sold, of other than a regular merchant. Umánib ka kay Pédro. Let your mat overlap Pedro's, i. e. Sleep next to Pedro. Umangkìn ka nang laruwàn. Take some toys for yourself. Ang pagáyaw nya ng kumáin nang karnè ay sya ng nakabùbúte sa kanyà. His not being willing to eat meat is what does him good. Ang halíge nang báhay ay bumába` sapagkàt hindí káya nang lúpa` ang bigàt na kanya ng dinádala. The post of the house sank because the weight it was bearing was too great for the ground. Bàbábag si Hwàn nang kanya ng kalarò`. Juan will fight with one of his playmates. Bumaluktot kà nang yantòk. Bend a piece of rattan. Ang áhas ay bumaluktòt. The snake doubled itself up. Bumálot ka nang súman (nang sigarìlyo, nang kúmot). Roll up some suman (sticky rice cooked in banana-leaves; some cigarettes, a blanket). Ang pagbása ay mahírap. Reading is hard. Sya y bumigtì nang táo. He choked a man to death. Ang pagbigtì ay isa ng pagpatày sa kápwa táo sa pamamagítan nang pagsakàl. Strangling is killing a person by means of choking. Bumílog si Hwàn nang isa ng turumpò. Juan turned out (on a lathe) a spinning-top. Bumíngit sya sa malaki ng pangánib. He went (voluntarily) to the brink of a great danger. Bumitìw sa lúbid ang isà sa inyò. One of you let go of the rope. Bumúbukàs ang manga bulaklàk sa hàlamanàn. The flowers in the garden are opening. Sya y bumúnot nang damò. He plucked up some grass. Lahàt nang táo sa báya ng iyòn ay bumóto sa kandidáto ng si Manikìs. All the people in that town voted for the candidate Maniquís. Ang halíge ay dumádala nang tahílan. The post bears up girders. Dumamdàm si Hwàn nang isa ng mabigàt na sakìt. Juan felt a severe pain. Sya y dumapà`. He lay down on his face. Ang kanità ng kwaltà sa bangkò ay kasalukúya ng gumàgána nang buwìs. Your money and mine in the bank is even now earning interest. gumantì act in retaliation. gumápas cut with the panggápas. Ang máy sakìt ay guminháwa. The patient became more comfortable ... ay gumìginháwa nà ... is getting more comfortable now. Sya y humalìk sa kanya ng nánay. She kissed her mother. Ang báta ng si Hwàn ang humampàs sa anàk ni Áli ng Maryà. It was little Juan who hit Aunt Maria's little boy with a whip. ang paghánap a seeking (especially of one's daily bread). Sya y humárang nang manga táo ng nagháhatid nang kabáyo sa báya-ng-San-Migèl. He held up some people who were taking horses to the town of San Miguel. Akò ay humátì nang mansánas. I cut an apple in two. Humátì ako nang manga itlòg na binilè ni Hwána. I took half of the eggs Juana bought. Ingátan mo ang pagháwak sa mákina ng iyàn, sapagkàt baká ka maputúlan nang dalíri` na gáya nang nangyári sa ibà. Be careful how you take hold of that machine, for you might get your finger cut off like others before you. Humínà nang pagtakbò ang kabáyo. The horse lost its speed as a runner. ang paghingì` a requesting, a request. Híhiram kamì nang librò sa libreríya. We shall borrow books from the library. humúla` predicted, prophesied. umigìb get water by dipping from a well, spring, or stream. Akò y umìíhip nang píto. I was blowing the small flute. Umìíhip ang hángi ng habágat. The spring wind is blowing. Umílag ka. Get out of the way. Ang kanyà ng manga pagilàng ay lubhà ng makínis. His little dodges are very clever. Umínit ang plànsa. The flatiron became hot. Umínit ang túbig. The water got hot. Ang paginùm nang álak ay masamà`. Drinking liquor is harmful. Sya y uminùm nang gátas. He drank some milk. Umísip ka, Nánay, nang isa ng kwènto. Try to think of a story, Mother. Ang pagísip nang bugtòng na itò ay mahírap. This riddle is hard to solve. ang kanyà ng pagiyàk her weeping. kumabiyàw press sugar-cane. Kumaluskòs sa súlok ang dagà`. The rat pattered in the corner, i. e. I heard the pattering of a rat in the corner. Ang íbon ay kumákantà. The bird is singing. Kumapá si Hwàn nang itlòg sa púgad nang manòk. Juan felt out some eggs in the hen's nest. Kumákapá sya nang isa ng palakà`. He felt around for a frog. Sya y kumáyas nang isa ng kawáyan. He smoothed a stick of bamboo. Hwag kà ng kumuròt ngayòn! Don't pinch now! Si Pédro ay lumabàs. Pedro went out. Ang áso y lumàlámon. The dog is feeding. Si Pédro ay lumàlámon at hindí kumàkáin. Pedro is eating like an animal, not like a human being. Lumáyag si Manuwèl sa Amérika. Manuel sailed (i. e. voyaged) to America (ang láyag a sail). Ang bantay-pálay ay lumáyas. The watchman of the rice-field left his post. Isa ng sundálo ay lumáyas sa ínit nang paglalabanàn. A soldier deserted in the heat of the battle. Sya y lumíbot. He went for a walk. Magpútol ka, Pédro, nang manga kúgon, úpang lumínis ang búkid. Cut the cugon-grass, Pedro, so that the field may become clear. Si Pédro ay lumípat sa iba ng báyan. Pedro moved to another town. Lumuhod kà, Hwán. Kneel down, Juan. Si Hwàn ay lumuhòd sa haràp nang háre`. Juan knelt down before the king. Sya y ngumíngitì`. She is smiling. Pumagítan sya sa dalawà ng dalága. He placed himself between two young ladies. Akò y pumána nang usà. I shot an arrow at a stag (pána` an arrow). Pumánaw ang kanya ng hiningà. His breath departed, i. e. He gave up the ghost. Si Hwàn ang pumáso sa áki ng kulugò. It was Juan who burned out my wart for me. Huwàg kà ng pumatìd nang sampáyan! Don't you break the clothes-line! Si Hwàn ay sya ng pumáyag sa paraà ng itò. It was Juan who agreed to this plan. Sya y pumàpáyag. He is willing. Pumíli akò nang malakì ng mansánas. I chose a big apple. Pumìpílit sya ng magbukàs nang kabà ng bákal. He was trying hard to open an iron safe. (But punctual: Pumílit sya ... He forced open...). pumitìk give a fillip, snap at with one's finger. Sya y pumúpukpòk nang bunòt nang nyòg. He is pounding cocoanut husks. Pumùpútol nang kawáyan si Mariyáno. Mariano is cutting bamboo. Pùpútol ... will cut.... Ang sumàsábuy na túbig ay nanggàgáling sa bubungàn nang báhay. The water that was splashing on us came from the roof of the house. sumagása` jostle. sumaguwàn paddle. sumáhod put something under to catch what flows or falls. Sya y sumásakay sa bangka` nang akò y dumatìng. He was getting into the canoe when I arrived. Sumála siyà sa singsìng. He missed the ring (in the juego de anillo, in which one tries to catch a ring on a stick). sumálok dip out water (ang sálok a dipper, a basket for catching fruit when it is cut from the tree; a net for catching insects). Sya y sumandòk nang sináing. She dipped out some boiled rice. Sumánib ka kay Pédro, (same meaning as umánib above). Sumíkad ang kabáyo. The horse struck out, gave a kick. Sumikìp ang daàn sa karamíhan nang táo. The road became crowded with the multitude of people. Sumikìp ang damìt. The garment shrank and became tight. Sumiksìk si Hwàn sa púlong nang manga táo. Juan crowded his way into the gathering of people. Sumilakbò ang apòy (ang kanya ng gálit, ang kanya ng tuwà`). The fire (his anger, his joy) welled up. Ang pagsintà ni Pédro ay hindí tinanggàp nang dalága. The young lady did not accept Pedro's proffer of love. Siyà ang sumuklày sa kanya ng anàk. It was she herself who combed her child's hair (ang suklày a comb). sumúlid spin thread. sumúlong push ahead, progress; also as family name: Sumúlong. Si Pédro ay sumundò` nang páre`. Pedro fetched a priest. Hindí sya nagkapálad sa pagsundò nang médiko. He did not succeed in fetching a doctor. Pagsuntok nyà ay tumakbo kà. When he strikes you, run (suntòk a blow on the head). Sya y sumúsutsòt. He is whistling. Ang báta y tumahímik. The boy quieted down. Tumátahòl ang áso. The dog was barking. Sya y tumámà sa hwéting. He won in the lottery. Tumátandá siyà. He is getting old. Sya y tumánod sa báhay sa boò ng magdamàg. He guarded the house all night. Tumanùng akò kay Hwàn. I asked Juan. Tumanùng akò nang kwàlta kay Hwàn. I asked Juan for money. tumanghà` wonder. Sya y tumátangò`. He is willing, He assents. Tumàtáwa siyà. He is laughing. Ikàw ang tumáwag kay Hwàn. Do you call Juan. Nárinig ko ang iyò ng pagtáwag sa ákin. I heard you calling me. Sya y tumayò`. He stood up. tumibà` cut bananas off the tree. tumilàd cut wood small along the grain, shave off, cut into small parts. Sya y tumimbá nang túbig. He drew water with a bucket. ang pagtingìn the act of looking at something, observation. Ang pagtipìd sa kwaltà ay ginágawa nang marámi. Many people practise economy in the matter of money. Ang pagtípon sa manga káhoy kung tagulàn ay mahírap, sapagkàt mapútik. It is hard to collect logs in the rainy season, on account of the mud. Tumirà si Hwàn na isa ng taòn sa báya-ng-Balíwag. Juan lived one year in the town of Baliuag. tumukà` pick with the beak (tukà` the beak of a fowl). Sya y tumúlak sa isinùsúlong na kahò ng bákal. He pushed (i. e. took part in pushing) at the iron safe they were moving. Also: Sya y tumúlak. He "shoved off", i. e. He went away. Si Hwàn ay tumúlog sa báhay ni Pédro. Juan went and slept in Pedro's house. Ang kanya ng pagtúlog ay mabábaw. His sleep is light. Tumúngo sya sa báya-ng-Balíwag. He went toward Baliuag. Ang pagubrà nang manga barìl na ytò sa pamamarìl nang kalabàw-ramò ay hindí pinakamabúte. These guns are not the best for shooting wild carabao. Umubrà ang ininùm nya ng purgà. The purge he drank took effect. Umubrà sa kakanàn ang kanya ng ginawà ng lamésa. The table he made was suitable for the dining-room. Umubrà ng nagámit ang tornìlyo ng bákal sa lugàr nang tansò. It was possible to use the iron screw instead of the copper. Sya y umupò`. He sat down. Ang pagupò` sa hángin ay isa ng mahírap na parúsa. "Sitting on the air" (standing in sitting position with the forefingers pointing up) is a hard punishment. Umùúrung ang trèn. The train is backing. Umútang ka nang salapì kay Pédro. Borrow some money from Pedro. Umuwé si Hwàn. Juan went home, Yumáyà si Hwàn nang kanya ng mangà kaybígan. Juan invited some of his friends. ang pagyáya` the invitation. Other roots occurring in these forms (and roots occurring above out of their alphabetical order): abála, ágos, ákay, akiyàt, alìs, ása, áyon, bábaw, bahà`, balìk, bílang, bilì, búhat, bútas, daìng, dála, dalàs, dálaw, dalò, dámi, dápit, dápo`, daràs, datìng, dilìm, dúkit, dumì, doòn, galàw, gámit, gamòt, gápang, gastà, gawà`, gúlang, gupìt, gustò, hába`, hábol, hágod, hakbàng, hángo`, haràp, hátak, higà`, híla, hilìng, hingà, húkay, húli, húni, íbig, kagàt, káin, kalabòg, kápit, katàm, kibò`, kilála, kílos, kinìg, kíta, kúha, kulòng, kuwènta, lában, lagánap, lagpàk, lákad, lakàs, lakì, lamìg, lampàs, langòy, lápit, lígaw, lindòl, lipàd, litàw, liwánag, lubòg, lúha`, luksò, luwàs, nákaw, ngiyàw, panhìk, pasàn, pások, patày, páwis, píhit, pitàs, pukòl, púri, putòk, sagòt, sakàl, sákop, salákay, sáma, sanggà, sápit, sarà, sayàw, sigàw, síkat, silìd, sípa`, sísid, subò, súgat, súlat, sumpòng, sunòd, suwày, súyo`, tabà`, tagà`, takbò, tálik, talòn, tanàw, tanglàw, taráto, tawìd, tíbay, tiktìk, tikuwàs, túbo`, tugtòg, tuktòk, túlong, tungtòng, tupàd, ulàn, ulì`, untì`, úpa, yáman. (a) Kumusta kà? How d'you do? may be felt to belong here. [10] (b) An irregular inflection in which variation of the initial consonant takes the place of the infix is known to Mr. Santiago from a few traditional phrases: Hwag kà ng matày (for: pumatày) nang kápwa táo. Thou shalt not kill. (c) Forms with accent shift owe this feature to the root (§ 337): Umabòt ka nang isa ng mansánas. Help yourself to an apple. Ang sumunòd na silakbò nang lagablàb ay siya ng umabòt sa bubungàn. The next leap of the flame reached the roof. Ang pagabùt nang búnga ng itò ay mahírap. This fruit is hard to reach. Nárinig ko syà sa kanya ng pagayàw sa sinábe ni Hwàn. I heard him disagree with what Juan had said. Nagálit akò sa kanya ng pagayàw sa lamésa. I was angered at his leaving the table. Si Pédro ay umayàw na. Pedro has left the table. Similarly from bába` and sákit. (d) From a phrase: Hindí marúnong gumanti-ng-pála` si Hwàn. Juan does not know how to make return for kindness (gantì ng pála`). (e) From derived words: tumagílid, pagtagílid (ta-gílid § 523); tumalíkod, pagtalíkod (ta-líkod § 523). See also §§ 404. 488. 349. The doubled root with the same formation is used of actions aimlessly repeated at intervals. Nátinik syà sa kanya ng pagtakbò-takbò sa bakúran. In his constant running about the yard, he got a splinter into his foot. Tumàtáwa-táwa si Hwàn hábang nagbíbigkàs nang talumpáte si Pédro. Juan kept laughing at intervals while Pedro was making his speech. Si Hwàn ay tumàtáwa-táwa nang sya y hampasìn ni Pédro. When Juan kept laughing every little while, Pedro finally struck him with the whip. (a) From a root with accent shift (§ 337): Tumátawa-tawà si Hwàn twì ng ákin sya ng màmasdàn hábang nagbíbigkas nang talumpáte si Pédro. Juan kept snickering every time I happened to look at him while Pedro was delivering his oration. (2) Active with mag- and abstract with pag-r. 350. Many roots form their active with the prefix mag- for the contingent, nag- for the actual mode; the durative is reduplicated before the prefix is added. The corresponding abstract of action has unaccented reduplication and prefix pag-. Thus: nagpútol, nag-pù-pútol, mag-pútol, mag-pù-pútol, pag-pu-pútol. These actives express, generally, a more deliberate action than those with -um-; often also one involving more effect on external objects than do those with -um-. We take up first those roots from which forms with -um- do not occur in our material: Akò y nagáantòk. I am sleepy. Ang lúsong kay Hwàn sa kanya ng pagaaráro ay nagsidating nà. The helpers for Juan in his plowing have arrived (ang aráro a plow). Si Pédro ay magàasáwa. Pedro is going to take a wife. Si Pédro ay magàasáwa kay Hwána. Pedro is going to marry Juana. Silà y nagàáway. They are fighting. magbáhay build a house. Akò y nagbastà nang áki ng damìt. I packed up my clothes. Sya y nagbáyad nang kanyà ng manga útang. He paid off his debts. magbayò pound rice in a mortar. magbigàs hull rice (i. e. make bigàs, hulled rice, out of pálay, rice in the grain). Sya y nagbigày nang librò sa ákin. He gave me some books. Sya y nagbíhis kanína ng umága. She put on her good clothes this morning. Ang pagbibiyábo ay isa ng ugáli nang manga Intsèk. Swinging the feet when sitting is a habit of the Chinese. Nagbiyày si Hwàn nang isdà` sa kanya ng palàisdáan. Juan put some fish into his fishpond. magbuhòl tie a knot. Nagbwàl sila nang isa ng púno-ng-káhoy. They felled a tree. Ang ságing ay nagdàdáhon. The banana-tree is putting out leaves. Ang paghahása` nang pangáhit ay mahírap. Sharpening razors is difficult. Sya y nagháhatìd nang manga laráwan sa simbáhan. He is delivering images to the church. Maghubad kà nang damìt. Take off your clothes. Sya y naghùhúgas nang pinggàn. She is washing dishes. Naghungkòy sya. He fanned rice. magíhaw roast (something). Nagkamìt sya nang marámi ng túbo`. He obtained much profit. Sya y nagkúkuble. He is in hiding. maglakò` peddle (something). Maglálarú na siyà. He is going to play after all. Naglarú na akò. I have played enough now. Naglálaro silà. They are playing. Naglawìt akò nang lúbid sa bintána`. I hung a rope out of the window. maglúgaw prepare rice-broth. Naglùlúto siyà nang gúlay. She is cooking vegetables. Sya y magpápasyàl. He is going to take a walk. Nagpùpúnas sya nang sahìg. He is scrubbing floors. Nagpúyat akò kagabì. I staid up last night. magsáing cook rice dry (with little water). Nagsampày sya nang damìt. She hung out some clothes. Sya y nagtábon nang isa ng húkay. He dammed up a ditch. Magtahàn ka nang paglalarò`. Stop playing. Nang nárinig nya iyòn ay malakì ang kanya ng nagìng pagtatakà. When he heard this, his surprise was great. Sya y nagtálì nang bábuy sa halíge. He tied a pig to the post. Magtúrù ka nang wíka ng Kapampángan sa iyo ng pàaralàn. Teach the Pampanga language in your school. Sya y nagtùtúro`. He is teaching. Támà ang kanya ng pagtutwìd. His reckoning is correct. Sya y nagusísa`. He made inquiry. Sya y nagusísa nang marámi ng bágay. He inquired into many things. Hindí ba akò nagútos sa iyò ng gumawá itò? Didn't I order you to do this? Ang pagwawalá nang mangà bíhag ay pinarùrusáhan nang kamàtáyan. The escaping of captives is punished with death. Sya y nagwáwalìs. She is sweeping. Other roots so used: akála`, alaskuwátro, alsà, aluwáge, aniyò`, ári`, balíta`, bantày, bángon, bátis, baòn, bigkàs, bendisiyòn, biniyàg, bintàng, bunò`, búnga, daàn, dalamháti`, dasàl, dáos, dáya`, díwang, dugò`, dúsa, rosáriyo, hágis, handà`, hári`, hátol, hinála`, hintày, hintò`, hírap, hiwalày, íngat, kasàl, kúlang, kumpisàl, kurùs, kuwènto, lasìng, libàng, libìng, ligtàs, limòs, litsòn, liwalìw, lubày, lublòb, mahàl, máno, masìd, milágro, mísa, mulà`, ningnìng, pasiyènsiya, paséyo, sábi, sábog, sábong, sadiyà`, salità`, sánay, silbè, simbà, sísi, siyásat, súbo`, sugàl, sumbòng, sundálo, tabáko, tadtàd, tágo`, tálo, talumpáti`, tamò, taniyàg, tangày, tanggòl, tígil, tindìg, trabáho, túlin, túlos, umpisà, úsap, wíka`. 351. When a root is used both with -um- and mag-, the latter form usually differs by adding another object affected (dumalà bear, bear up: magdalà carry to someone, to a place; bumalìk go back; magbalìk return to a place, to someone); in some instances the added object is the actor himself (reflexive); in others the mag- form expresses a general activity, that with -um- a specific act (so, in part, pútol). Examples: Sya y nagàáral. He is studying (umáral is known as an archaic word for teach morals, instruct; ang áral that taught, precept, moral doctrine). Magbaluktot kà nang yantòk. Curve some pieces of rattan (bumaluktòt, § 348, intransitive or of a single specific transitive action). Magbálot ka nang súman, nang sigarìlyo. Roll up some suman, some cigarettes (more general than -um-); Magbálot ka nang kúmot. Wrap yourself up in a blanket (cf. -um-, § 348). Si Hwàn ay nagbigtì. Juan hanged himself; ang pagbibigtì suicide by hanging. Nagbilè si Hwána nang marámi ng sombréro. Juana sold many hats. Nagbíbile si Hwána nang sombréro. Juana is selling hats (bumilì buy). Siya y nagdádala nang túbig sa kabáyo. He is bringing water to the horse. Ang báta` ay nagdádala nang káhoy. The boy is bringing wood. Hwag kà ng magdamdàm sa hindí ko pagkatupàd nang áki ng pangáko`, sapagkàt iyò y hindí ko sinadyà`. Don't feel bad about my not having fulfilled my promise, for I did not do it intentionally (dumamdàm feel something). Si Hwàn ay naghampàs noò ng Byerne-sànto ng nagdaàn. Juan performed flagellation last Good Friday. Maghánap kayò nang inyo ng ikabùbúhay. Go and find a living for yourselves. Sya y naghárang nang púno-ng-káhoy sa daàn. He blocked the road with a tree. Ang paghahárang sa daàn ay báwal. It is forbidden to make obstructions on the roads. Naghátì ako nang manga bunga-ng-káhoy sa manga báta`. I distributed fruits among the children; ... nang damò sa manga kabáyo ... grass to the horses. ang paghaháti nang manga búnga-ng-káhoy sa manga báta` the distribution of fruits to the children. Naghínà sya nang pagtuktòk sa pintò`. He made his knocking at the door gentle. Sya y nagìínit nang gátas. She is heating some milk. Magísip ka. Bethink yourself, Be reasonable. Si Hwàn ay nagísip na nakáwan si Pédro. Juan planned to rob Pedro. Ang kanya ng pagiísip ay matálas (mahína`). His thinking-power is acute (weak). Silà y nagkàmáyan nang magkíta. They shook hands when they met. Maglabas kà nang manga sìlya. Bring out some chairs. ang paglalákad the drawing of something on foot; Naglákad ang manga estudyànte nang isà ng karósa. The students drew a float. Sya y naglíbot nang isa ng bandíla`. He walked about bearing a flag. Sya y naglìlínis nang mésa. He cleans tables. Ang pagnanákaw ay isa ng kasalána ng mabigàt. Thievery is a serious offense (numákaw of a single theft). Nagpìpílit sya ng magbukàs nang kaba ng bákal. He tries (often) to force open safes. Pagpupútol ni Hwàn nang búho` ay pumaroòn ka t tulúngan mo syà. When Juan cuts bamboo (as an occupation throughout a longer period of time), go along and help him. Magpùpútol kamì nang manga kawáya ng gàgamítin sa pagtatayò nang báhay. We shall cut bamboo for use in building houses. Magpùpútol akò nang kukò. I am going to cut my fingernails (reflexive). Nagpútol nang buhòk ang Intsèk na si Yàp. The Chinaman Yap cut his queue. Nagsakày sya sa kanya ng bangkà nang dalawa ng estudyànte. He took two students into his canoe. Nagsikìp ang daàn. The road grew crowded (apparently equal to -um-, but cannot be used of a garment). Nagsísiksik si Hwàn nang bigàs sa sáko. Juan was stuffing rice into the sack. Sya y nagsuklày. She combed her hair. Ang pagtatahòl nang áso ng itò sa manga nagdàdàánan ay masamà ng ugále`. This dog's way of barking at passers-by is a bad habit. Ang Kastíla` ay nagtátanòng. The Spaniard was asking questions. Nagtanùng akò kay Hwàn kung saàn ang daàn. I asked Juan where the road was (mag- with indirect questions or questions implied). Si Hwàn ay syà ng nagtáwag nang bágo ng léyi. It was Juan who announced (as town crier) the new law. Ang pagtatáwag ni Hwàn ay hindí márinig nang karamíhan dahilàn sa mahínà nya ng tinìg. Juan's announcement was not audible to the majority, owing to his weak voice. Sya y nagtayó nang bágu ng báhay. He built a new house. Ang pagtatayó nang manga báhay díto ay lubhà ng mahalagà. The building of houses here is very expensive. Nagtikwàs si Pédro nang manga suléras nang báhay. Pedro put some of the joists of the house out of level. Ang pagtitipìd nang kwàlta ay ginágawá nang maráme. Many people save money. Nagtipìd si Hwàn sa kanya ng pananamìt. Juan was saving of his clothing. Ang pagtitípon nang manga àrmas ay báwal. Storing up arms is forbidden. Magtípun ka nang káhoy. Store up some wood. Sila y nagtípon nang káhoy sa likòd nang kanila ng báhay. They stored up wood in the rear of their house. Nagtípon siya nang manè` sa isa ng súlok nang bakúran. He kept a pile of peanuts in a corner of his yard. Sya y nagtúlak nang isinùsúlong na kahò ng bákal. He did the shoving of the iron chest that was being moved (-um- shoved at, took part in the shoving). Magúubra ang karitò ng itò sa mahírap na daàn. This wagon will be suitable for difficult roads. Nagupó sya nang manga báta sa bangkò`. He seated some children on the bench. Similarly: balìk, bukàs, kantà, sáboy, sáma, sarà, sayàw, takbò, talòn, tánod, tirà, yáya`. 352. Transients with mag- are much used with derived words; in so far as these belong to secondary groups, they will be treated below; see §§ 384. 405. 410. 427,a. 430,a.b.c. 453,a. 489. 489,a. 513. (a) From phrases: Nagmàmadali-ng-áraw. The day is dawning (madalì ng áraw proximate day, i. e. dawn, daybreak), nagmèmè-ári` is possessing, has mastery of (may ári` owner, master). naghàháti-ng-gabì. It is midnight (háti ng gabì midnight). pagtatatlo-ng-gabì the three nights' celebration (tatlò ng gabì). (b) From compound words: pagbibigày-loòb (bigày-loòb); Ang maghampas-lúpa` ay nakasìsíra` nang púri. Being a vagabond is dishonorable (hampàs-lúpa`); maghàhánap-búhay (hánap-búhay). (c) From derived words: Transients with mag- from the contingent of transients with -um- express insistent and prolonged action: Káhit na walá sya ng talíno ay nagpùpumílit sya ng màtúto. Although he has no gifts, he is trying very hard to get educated. Sya y nagpùpumílit na pumaroòn sa pìknik. He is trying hard to be able to go to the picnic (pumílit). Similarly, nagtùtumirà (tumirà). From words with prefix ma- (§ 454) in the sense of making something or making (claiming) oneself to have a quality: Magmámadalì táyo nang paglákad, úpang hwàg táyo ng máhuli sa trèn. We will hurry our pace, so as not to be late for the train (madalì`). Nagmámaligsì si Kulàs sa pagsunòd sa manga útos sa kanyà. Nicolás is quick about obeying the orders that are given him (maligsì). Nagmalwàt sya nang pagparíto. He took a long time coming here. Hwag kà ng magmaluwàt nang pagparíto. Don't take too long about coming here (maluwàt). Similarly, pagmamarúnong (marúnong). From various words: Sila y naghimagsìk. They came to an armed conflict (-himagsìk § 518). Si Hwána ay naghíhimatày. Juana is fainting (himatày). Si Hwána ay nagkàkakanìn. Juana makes sweetmeats (for sale) (kakanìn, § 367,e). Sya y nagkalatimbà nang marámi. He did the well-bucket exercise many times (kala-timbà`, § 519). (d) Especially common are transients with mag- from special static words with suffix -an; they express mutual or concerted action by two or more actors. From the forms in S -an (§ 377): Nagàlísan ang mangà aluwáge no ng lúnes nan hápon. The carpenters all left last Monday afternoon (àlís-an). Naglàlàbásan silà. They were all going out. Silà y nagpìtásan nang manga biyábas. They all picked guavas together. Magsìsìgáwan múna táyo bágo tapúsin ang míting. We will all give a yell together before we close the meeting. Ang manga áso sa báya ng itò ay nagtàhúlan kagabì. The dogs in this town all barked last night. Similarly, from: bangkà`, bastà, daàn, hukòm, iyàk, kamày, kantà, salità`, takbò, tampò, taniyàg, tipàn, tugtòg, uwì`. The form in S -an is itself from a derived word in: Naghìmagsíkan ang mangà sundálo ng Tagálog at Kastíla`. The Tagalog and Spanish soldiers fought each other (hìmagsíkan from -himagsìk, § 518). From the forms in S (1) -an (§ 378): Nagààwítan silà nang akò y dumatìng. They were singing in chorus when I arrived. Magìbígan kayò. Love one another. Nagììbígan si Pédro at si Hwána. Pedro and Juana love each other. Ang ginawá nya ng pagmumùráhan nang kanyà ng mangà kalákal ay dahilàn sa kanya ng pangangailángan nang kwàlta. His putting down the prices of his goods was due to his need of money. Similarly: hákot, káin. From forms in (2) -an (§ 379): Hwag kayò ng magmurahàn sa daàn. Don't abuse each other on the street. Nagmùmurahàn silà. They were engaged in an abusive quarrel. Ang kàgalítan ni Pétra at ni Kulása ay natápus sa hàyága ng pagmumurahàn. The hostility between Petra and Nicolasa ended in an abusive quarrel in public. Nagpurihàn ang dalawa ng magkaybígan sa kanila ng pagtatalumpáte`. The two friends praised each other in their speeches. Nagpùpurihàn ang manga kaybíga ng itò sa pàhayágan. This group of friends praise each other in the newspapers. Si Hwána at si Maryà ay nagputulàn nang kukò. Juana and Maria cut their fingernails. Silà y nagsàgasaàn. They all jostled one another. Ang pagsasàgasaàn nang manga táo ay lubhà ng magulò. The jostling of all the people was most confused. Nagsugatàn silà. They inflicted wounds on one another. magtaanàn flee. Ang kanila ng pagtutulungàn ay hindí nátulòy. Their plan to help each other was not carried out. Similarly: ágaw, balíta`, dáhil, hánap, haráng, lában. From diminutives in D -an (§ 381): Magàaswang-aswángan daw si Pédro sa karnabàl. Pedro says he will dress up as a bogey-man for the carnival. Hwag kà ng magaswàng-aswángan. Don't play bogey-man. Nagmanòk-manúkan si Hwàn sa karnabàl. Juan masqueraded as a rooster at the carnival. Silà y nagùunggú-unggúan. They are playing at being monkeys. Nagusà-usáhan siyà. He pretended he was a deer. So also: dapà`. From (1) D -an: Sya y nagbabá-babayíhan. He went dressed as a woman. So also from tákot. 353. Transients with accent shift and mag- may owe the shift to the root; so from ábot (§ 337): Nagáabòt si Hwàn nang sigarìlyo sa kanya ng manga kaybígan. Juan is passing cigarettes to his friends. Ang pagaabòt nang sigarìlyo ay isa ng ugáli ng magálang. Passing cigarettes is a polite custom (umabòt, § 348,c, does not involve a person to whom). So also múra. In the great majority of instances, however, the accent shift is not peculiar to the root, but constitutes a special formation, which expresses a more plentiful and diverse action than the transient with -um- or simple mag-. Silà y nagbábabàg. They are fighting each other. Magbarú ka. Get dressed, Put on your clothes. Sya y nagbunòt nang damò. He plucked up a lot of grass. Maghanàp kayò nang manga bulaklàk sa párang. Go and look for flowers in the woods. Pabayaàn nawá ninyò na sya y maghanàp. Please allow him to make an inspection. Naghatí ako nang manga itlòg na pinatigasàn ni Hwána. I halved a quantity of eggs which Juana had hard-boiled. ang paghahatè nang manga mansánas the halving of the apples. Magisip kà nang manga lugàr na maàári ng kinaiwánan mo nang iyò ng librò. Think of the various places where you may have left your book. Si Hwàn ay nagíisip nang manga iháhandá nya sa fiyèsta. Juan is thinking of what things he will serve at the fiesta. Hwag kà ng magputòl nang abakà, Hwàn. Don't cut up any hemp, Juan. Magpúputol kamì nang búho`, yantòk, at bayúgin, pagdatìng námin doòn. We shall cut slender bamboo, rattan, and thick bamboo when we get there. Nagputòl si Hwàn nang tubò sa pinások nya ng tubúhan. Juan cut down a lot of sugar-cane in the cane-field he got into. Nagpúputol nang kawáyan na hindí nya árì si Hwàn. Juan cuts down bamboo that does not belong to him. Nagpuyàt akò sa manga gabì ng nagdaàn. I have repeatedly staid up late the last few nights. Hindí ko màputúlan nang tahìd ang kátyaw, sapagkàt itò y nagsísikàd. I couldn't cut the rooster's spur, because it kept struggling with its feet. Sya y nagsísinungalìng. He is telling lies. Pagsusulàt nya nang manga súlat ay pumaroòn ka t linísin mo ang kanyà ng aralàn. While he is writing all his letters, go and clean his study. Ang panginoò y nagtawàg nang manga alíla`. The master called various servants. Nagtátawag syà nang manga kitè`, nang ákin sya ng datnàn sa bakúran. She was calling to a lot of little chicks when I came upon her in the yard. Ang pagtatawag nyà sa manga kitè` at ang manga pùtákan nang manga manòk ay nakabíbingì. Her constant calling to the chicks and the clucking of all the hens made a deafening noise. Ang báta y nagtúturó nang kanyà ng gustò. The child points at the various things it wants. Hwag kà ng magutàng. Don't go about asking for credit. Ang magutàng sa marámi ng tindáhan ay hindí maínam na ugále`. Buying on credit in many shops is a bad habit. Similarly from: bálot, íngay, lákad, láyag, líbot, tágo`. (a) When transients with mag- are made from derived words, the accent of the underlying word is occasionally shifted, apparently without change of meaning: Sya y nagmayabàng. He boasted (mayábang, § 454). Similarly: magkákalahatè` (kalaháti` § 519). (b) In one such case there is not only accent shift, but also secondary accent on the first syllable of the underlying word: Sya y nagmápuri. He praised himself. Sya y nagmàmàpurì. He is praising himself. Ang pagmamápuri ay hindí magandà ng ugáli`. Praising oneself is not a becoming habit (ma-púri, § 454). 354. The corresponding form from oxytone roots is made with unaccented reduplication of the underlying word: mag-si-sigàw, mag-si-si-sigàw, nag-si-sigàw, nag-sí-si-sigàw; the abstract, however, lacks the extra reduplication, coinciding with that of §§ 350. 351: pag-si-sigàw. Sya y naggugupìt nang manga papèl. He cut some pieces of paper into bits. Sya y naggúgugupìt nang manga papèl. He is cutting up some pieces of paper. Ang báta ng si Hwàn, kung walà ng mágawa`, ay sya ng nagháhahampàs sa manga púnu-ng-ságing. It is little Juan who goes whipping at the banana-trees when he can't find anything to do. Hwag kà ng magpupukòl nang batò, sapagkàt baká mo tamáan ang bintána ng salamìn. Don't be always throwing stones; you might break a window. Nagpúpuputàk ang inahì ng manòk na nása kulungàn. The hen in the crate keeps up a constant cackling. Ilágan mo ang dumárating na kabáyo na nagtátatakbò. Look out for the horse that's coming there; it's a run-away. Nagúuupú sya sa damò. He always sits on the grass. So also: dugò`, inòm, lundàg, sigàw, tagpò`. (a) In one instance a barytone root has this reduplication with explicit plural meaning: magkikíta see one another, meet (of more than two people, cf. magkíta). 355. Accent shift and reduplication of the root appear in barytone roots in the same sense as accent-shift alone, with perhaps a somewhat greater intensity of the action: Nagpúpuputòl nang retáso ang báta`. The child was cutting some rags into small bits. Ang kátyaw ay nagsísisikàd. The rooster kept struggling with its legs. Sya y nagtátatawàg nang manga kitè`. She kept calling to the chickens. 356. With doubling of the root, transients in mag- express either action repeated at intervals or reciprocal action of explicitly more than two actors: Nagisà-isà ang manga báta` nang paglápit sa ákin. The children came to me one by one. So from: duklày, hiwalày, úlit. (a) In one instance the root has accent shift: Naguna-unà ang manga báta` nang paglápit sa ákin. The children vied with each other for the first place in coming to me. (3) Active with mang- and abstract with pang- r. 357. The active with mang- has the forms: ma-mútol, ma-mù-mútol, na-mútol, na-mù-mútol, pa-mu-mútol (from pútol); it expresses action more deliberate, selective, or in larger quantity (professional, habitual) than mag-; like the latter, but more clearly, it is used for the making or using of such and such an object. Examples: Sya y nangabála sa ámin. He made trouble for us. Nangano kà nang iyo ng manga kalarò`? What did you do to your playmates? Nangáyap lámang ang báta`. The child ate only relishes. Sya y nangbábambo nang áso. He is a caning a dog. ang pamamangkà` canoeing. Namilì akò sa báya-ng-Malólos. I shopped in Malolos. Sya y nangdídilig nang karsáda. He sprinkles streets. ang pangdidilìg street-sprinkling (as vocation). Ang kasalatàn nina Hwàn sa pananamìt ay nanggálin sa pagsusugàl ni Hwàn. Juan's family's want of clothing is due to his gambling. Hwag kà ng manghampàs. Don't go whipping people. Sya y nanghárang nang manga táo. He made a practice of holding people up. Sya y hinúli nang pulìs dahilàn sa panghahárang nang manga táo. He was arrested by the police for highway robbery. Nangháte si Hwána nang kalákal. Juana shared orders for goods. Ang panghaháte ni Hwána nang kalákal na ipinagbíbili nyà ay sya nyà ng ikinalúge. Juana's getting her stock of goods for sale by sharing in orders of fellow-retailers is what made her lose money. Nanghínà nang pagtakbò ang kabáyo sa kalaúnan nang pagkàgámit sa kanyà. The horse slackened its pace because it had been driven too long. Silà y nanghína`. They grew faint. Manghiràm ka nang palakòl. Go borrow a hatchet. manghúla` practise fortune-telling. Nanghùhúli kamì nang isdà` sa kagamitàn nang dála. We catch fish by means of nets. Ang kanya ng manga pangingílag sa sakìt ay lubhà ng malakè. His precautions against sickness are elaborate. Sya y nangàngabáyo. He rides horseback. Nangapá si Pédro nang isdà`. Pedro caught fish in his hands (by feeling for them in mud-holes). Sya y nangàngaséra. He eats in a boarding-house. mangáwit cut twigs with the káwit (a small, hook-shaped pruning-knife); also: get tired of a position or occupation. Ang báta ng si Hwàn ay nangàngáya nang manga kápwa nya báta`. Little Juan lords it over the other children. Sya y nangúngublè. He is keeping himself in hiding. Hwag kà ng manguròt, Pédro. Don't be pinching people, Pedro. Ang kanya ng pananagínip ay hindí nátuloy, sapagkàt nágising syà sa kalabòg nang púsa`. His dream was interrupted by his being awakened by the falling of the cat. Sya y nanànagínip. He is dreaming. Akù y nanagínip kagabè. I had a dream last night. Namáso sya nang dalíri nang kápwa nya báta`. He scorched his playmate's finger. Pamumútol nya nang kawáya y sundàn mo syà t baká magliwalìw lámang sa kalakhàn nang panahòn. When he goes bamboo-cutting, follow him to see that he doesn't loaf most of the time. Ang pamumútol nang kawáyan ay mahírap. Bamboo-cutting is hard work. Namútol si Hwàn nang kawáyan. Juan cut bamboo. Namùmútol kamì nang damò úpang ipagbilè. We are cutting grass for sale. Mamùmútol kamì nang tubò sa bakúran ni Áli ng Pétra. We are going to cut sugar-cane in Aunt Petra's yard. Ang báta ng may sakìt ay namùmúyat sa kanya ng inà. The sick child keeps its mother awake. Ang maláwig na pananalità` ay hindí maínam. Roundabout speeches are not pleasant. Pédro, hwag kà ng manyásat nang gawá nang máy gawà`. Pedro, don't be inquiring into other people's business. ang panunúlat writing in quantity, clerkship. ang pananahè` the occupation of sewing, the being a seamstress. Silà y nanahímik. They quieted down. Ang bàta y nanahímik. The boy quieted down to take a rest. manáwag call, summon (people). ang panunúro` the act of pointing things out. Sya y nangúna. He went first, He led. Sya y mangùngúna. He will be in the lead. Ang báta y nangupò sa buntòt nang sáya nang babáye. The boy went and sat right down on the lady's train. Ang panguupò nang báta sa buntòt nang sáya ay ipinahintú sa kanyà nang kanya ng nánay. The boy's trick of sitting down on people's trains was put a stop to by his mother. Sya y nangusísa nang manga babáye. She interrogated a number of women. Nangútang sya sa ákin nang limà ng píso. He made a loan of five dollars from me. Similarly from: áhit, áko`, anàk, báhay, balíta`, barìl, báro`, báyan, bílog, bíro`, búhay, bundòk, damìt, dúkit, gamòt, gupìt, hábol, hámon, hingì`, igìb, ílin, káin, kumpisàl, latà`, lóko, mahála`, noòd, pagítan, píli`, púlot, salákay, saríwa`, singìl, súbok, sulsè, súnog, súyo`, tálo, tangháli`, tiwála`, umìt, yári. (a) From derived words: ang panghihìmagsíkan in the same meaning as paghihìmagsíkan (from hìmagsíkan, § 377,a); so from kalaháti` (§ 519), kináin (§ 365). See also §§ 421,a. 422,a. (b) From words with prefix hin- (§ 518) we may derive, theoretically, the transients with prefix manghin-, though the underlying word in most cases does not exist. For the phonetic irregularities see § 334,a,5. Sila y nanghimagsìk. They came to an armed conflict (bagsìk). Hwag kà ng manghigantì sa kanilà, Hwàn; ang kababáan nang loòb ay lálo ng magandà. Don't take revenge against them, Juan; meekness of spirit is more becoming. Manghíhigantì kamì dahilàn sa manga kalupità ng ginawá nila sa ámin. We will take vengeance on them for the many cruelties they have committed against us. manghinukò cut the fingernails (kukò). Nanghìhináyang silà sa pagkamatày ni Del-Pilàr. They were mourning the death of Del Pilar. Malakì ang kanila ng panghihináyang sa namatày na báta ng si Hwàn, dahilàn sa hindí karanyúwa ng talíno nya. Their grief at little Juan's death was great, on account of his unusual talents. (sáyang). manghiningà pick the teeth (ang tingà foreign substance between the teeth). manghinulè clean out the ears (tu-tulè earwax, § 343). (c) In one instance the root is doubled; its accent shift is due to the meaning of the root: Nanawà-nawà si Pédro nang márinig nyà na sya y nàpíli ng magìng bóbo sa larò`. Pedro could not keep from snickering when he heard that the choice had fallen on him to be clown in the play. (4) Special static words. 358. A few individual forms of the preceding group have static value; of transients, umága morning (§ 348) and ang mamáso` a blister (páso`); of abstracts, ang pagkáin food (beside the act of eating), cf. also pagdáka, § 265,9. The following are the regular formations of special static words of this type: (a) Dual collectives with mag-: ang magáli aunt and niece or nephew. Ang magamà ng si Maryà at si Pédro ay naparoòn sa búkid. Pedro and his daughter Maria have gone to the country. Ang magasáwa ng Pédro at Hwána ay naparoòn sa teyátro. Pedro and his wife Juana have gone to the theatre. Ang magatè ng si Maryà at si Maryáno ay nagsipagpasyàl. Mariano and his oldest sister Maria went for a walk. Sila y magatè. She is his oldest sister. ang magbaláe ng si Hwàn at si Andrès Juan and Andrés, whose children have married each other. magbayàw two men, one of whom has married the other's sister. magbilàs two men who have married two sisters (ang bilàs the husband of one's wife's sister). maghípag two women, one of whom has married the other's brother (each of the two is the other's hípag). magimpò grandmother and grandchild. maginà mother and child. magkúya the oldest brother and a younger brother or sister. magnánay mother and child. magtátay father and child. Slightly divergent is magának: it includes the whole family, a given person plus his angkàn (§ 379): Nagsimbà ang boò ng magának. The whole family went to church. ang magának na sina Hwàn Krùs the Juan Cruz family. Irregular in meaning are also magdamàg and maghápon, of periods of time. From a compound word: ang magkápit-báhay two neighbors. From a phrase: Sila y magkápwa-táo. They act toward each other as fellow men should (kápuwà táo). From a derived word: magamaìn uncle and nephew or niece (ama-ìn, § 367,a); see also §§ 408. 412,a. 490. (b) mag- r similarly forms explicit plurals: ang magaamà the group of a father with two or more of his children. ang magbabaláe a group of three or more people whose children have intermarried. ang magiinà mother and children. ang magkukúya a group of brothers and sisters including the oldest brother. magnanánay mother and children. magpipínsan a group of cousins. magtatátay father and children. From a compound: magkakápit-báhay. From a derived word: magkakasinglakì (kasinglakì, § 520). See also §§ 412,a. 427,d. (c) mag- r also forms static words denoting a professional agent: ang magaaráro a plowman, magbibistày woman who sieves the rice in a mill, magnanákaw thief. From oxytone roots also with retraction of accent: ang magbabáyo a rice-pounder, magbibígas a dealer in hulled rice. (d) Barytone roots usually shift the accent: ang maghuhugàs a dish-washer, maglalakàd traveller, maglilinìs a cleaner, maglilipà` plasterer, maglulutò` cook; Si Hwàn ay isa ng magpuputòl nang káhoy. Juan is a wood-cutter; ang magsusulàt a clerk scribe, magsusuyòd a harrower (súyod a harrow), maguutàng a habitual borrower. So also from: láko`, táwag. (e) màng- r has the same value. The accent of the prefix can appear only in an open syllable (§ 338); ang màngingisdà` a fisherman; mànanalakàb fish-trapper (salakàb an inverted basket used as a fish-trap). So: dúkit, hámon, húla`, kúlam, lígaw, sákop, sípa`, tanggòl, tugtòg. Oxytone roots often have retraction of accent: manggagámot manggagamòt; manggugúpit manggugupìt; Sya y màngingínum nang álak. He is a drunkard; also: mangiínom (with the prefix kept apart by glottal stop, § 34, and no effect on initial vowel); mángangatàm màngangátam; mànglilímos; ang mànanáhe` a seamstress (ang tahè` a seam); ang mànanánim a planter. (f) Barytone roots usually have accent shift: ang manghuhugàs a dish-washer, manglalagarì` a wood-sawer, mámumulòt a gleaner (púlot); Ang manga mámumutòl nang káhoy ay nagsiáhon nà sa bundòk. The wood-cutters have already gone up into the mountains. ang mánunulàt a scribe, clerk, ang màngungutàng a habitual borrower, a "sponger". So also from: káyo, tálo. (5) Direct passive. 359. The simple direct passive has suffix -in with accent shift of one syllable in the contingent, infix -in- (§ 334,b,1) in the actual: putúl-in, pù-putúl-in, p-in-útol, p-in-ù-pútol. It corresponds to actives with -um- and abstracts with pag- and, to a large extent, also to actives with mag- and abstracts with pag- r. It expresses, transiently, an object viewed as fully affected, taken in by the actor, or created by a simple action. Irregularities of form are as listed in § 334,c. Ináko ni Hwàn ang útang ni Pédro. Pedro's debt was taken over (pledged for) by Juan. Inàalaála ni Pédro ang kanya ng inà. Pedro was thinking of his mother. Hindí nya inàalaála iyòn. He does not mind that. Hindí nya àalalahánin iyòn. He won't mind that (§ 334,c,3). Inàámin nya na ginawá nya iyòn. He admits that he did it. Àamínin nya ang kanya ng kasalánan. He will own up to his misdeeds. Ináangkin nang báta ng si Hwána ang manga laruwàn ni Maryà. Little Juana appropriates Maria's toys. Angkinin mò ang laruwàn. Take the toy for yourself. Pag úulàn ay ararúhin mo ang punláan. When the rains come, plow the germinating-plot. Inàáso nang inà ang kanya ng báta`. The mother is running and shouting after her child (áso a dog). Ináyap námin ang atsára. We used the mixed pickles as a condiment. (ang áyap condiment). Ang aklàt niya ng kaybígan mo ng binanggìt ay áki ng nabása. I have read the book of that friend of yours whom you mentioned. Binátis nya ang ílog. He forded the river. Ang gúlok na yàn ay bàbawíin ko sa iyò, kapag ipinamútol mo nang kawáyan. I shall take back this bolo from you, if you use it for cutting bamboo. Ang tábo` ay binílog ni Hwàn. Juan turned the dipper (on a lathe). Ang úlo ni Hwàn ay binìbílog nang kanya ng manga kalarò`. Juan's playmates are fooling him (literally: turning his head). Binyàk ni Hwàn ang kawáyan. Juan has split the bamboo. Dináing nya ang isdà`. He laid open the fish. Ang manga isdà ng itò ay dinála niyà sa ílog-Pásig. He caught these fish with the net in the Pasig river. Yòn ay áki ng dináramdàm. I am very sorry, That's too bad. Diligìn mo ang manga haláman. Sprinkle the plants. Durúin mo ang áki ng mamáso`. Prick my blister for me. Ginágabi kamì. We were overtaken by night. Hanápin mo ang magnanákaw. Look for the thief. Hinápis nya akò. He made me sad. Hinátì ko ang manga búnga-ng-káhoy sa manga bátà`. I distributed the fruits among the children. Iníhaw nya ang karnè. He roasted the meat. Inísip nya ng magnákaw sa isa ng tindáhan. He thought of stealing from a store. Isípin mo kung saàn mo naíwan ang iyo ng sombréro. Think where you left your hat. Ang kabutì ng itò ay hindí kinàkáin. One does not eat this mushroom. Ipatipìd mo sa bátà` ang kinàkáin nya. Make the child be moderate in its eating. Kinapá ko sa kadilimàn ang áki ng hìgáan. I fell out my bed in the dark. Kúnin mo ang aklàt sa báta`. Take the book from the child. Hwag mò akò ng kurutìn. Don't pinch me. Nilákad námin ang lahàt nang daàn. We walked all the way. Laruin mò ang báta`. Play with the child. Nilìlínis nya ang mésa. She is cleaning the table. Nilúsong mo bà ang balòn? Did you go down into the well? Lusúngin mo ang balòn. Go down into the well. Nilùlúto niya ang gúlay. She is cooking the vegetables (also: linùlúto`). Minámahàl nang manga magúlang ang báta`. The parents love the child. pinalànsa was ironed (palànsa). Pinána ko ang usà. I shot the stag with an arrow. Hindí nya pinápansìn iyòn. He doesn't pay any attention to that. Pinatày ko ang manòk. I killed the chicken. Ang pinílì nya ng manòk ay matabà`. The chicken she picked out is a fat one. Pinílit nya ng gumawá nang páyong ang alíla`. He forced the servant to make an umbrella. Pitasin mò ang manga búnga nang manggà. You pick the mangoes. Pinútol ni Hwàn ang tanikalà`. The chain was cut by Juan. Pagka pinútol mo ang lúbid na iyàn ay lálagpak ang tulày. When you have cut that rope the bridge will fall. Pag pinútol mo ang buntòt nang túta` ay malápit iya ng mamatày. If you cut off the puppy's tail, it is likely to die. Pinùpútol ko ang káhoy. I was cutting the wood. Putúlin mo ang lúbid. Cut the rope. Pùputúlin nya ang búho`. He will cut the bamboo. Pinúyat nya akò. He kept me up late. Hwag mò ng sagasáin, Lúkas, ang kainítan nang áraw sa iyo ng paglabàs sa búkid. Don't hit upon the hottest part of the day for going out to the field, Lucas. Sinísintà ni Pédro ang dalága. Pedro is in love with the young woman. Akò y sinípà nang kabáyo. I was kicked by a horse. Sinuklày nya ang buhòk nang kanya ng anàk. She combed her child's hair; also: Sinuklày nya ang kanya ng anàk. Ang gámit nya ng librò ay sinúlat ni Daruwìn. The book he uses was written by Darwin. Kung sinuntòk nya ang báta` ay suntukìn mo siyà. If he hits the boy, do you hit him. Sinúsuntok nyà ang báta`. He hits the boy on the head. Tagpuìn mo akò sa estasyòn nang trèn. Meet me at the railroad station. Tanawin mò ang súnog! Look at the fire! Ang tábon sa ílog ay tinangày nang ágos. The dam in the river was carried away by the current. Hwag mò ng tanggapìn ang úpa. Don't accept the pay. Tawágin mo si Hwàn. Call Juan. Tinipìd ni Hwàn ang ibinigày ko ng ságing. Juan was saving with the bananas I gave him. Ang dúsa ng kanya ng tinítiìs ay hindí lubhà ng mabigàt. The suffering he is undergoing is not very severe. Tinísod ko ang bakyà`. I kicked away the sandal. Inúna si Hwàn nang hukòm. Juan was dealt with first by the judge. Inusísa akò ni Hwàn. Juan questioned me. Ang inusísa sa ákin ni Hwàn ay kung saan nàndon ang kanya ng sombréro. What Juan asked me was where his hat was. Inútang ko iyò ng salapì ng ibinigày ko sa kanyà kahápon. I borrowed that money I gave him yesterday. Niwáwalis nyà ang alikabòk sa mésa. She is sweeping the dust from the table (also: wináwalìs). Ang niyáyà ko ng magpasyàl ay si Hwàn. The one I invited to come for a walk was Juan. Similarly from: ágaw, akála`, ákay, akiyàt, alíla`, alintána, alipustà`, alìs, ámo`, anínaw, ásal, bálak, bambò, bása, batò, báwi`, bigkàs, bigtì, bílang, bilì, bitbìt, búhat, bútas, buwísit, dalà, daràs, dikdìk, dúkit, dúkot, gámit, gamòt, gantì, gawà`, gúgol, gupìt, gustò, gútom, hábol, hágod, hampàs, hámon, hantày, hángo`, hárang, haràp, hátak, híla, hilìng, hinála`, hintày, hiràm, hitìt, híwa`, húkay, húli, íbig, inò, inòm, kagàt, kalaykày, kámot, kantà, kúlam, kumbidà, kumpisàl, lála, lóko, lúnod, loòb, matà, múra, nákaw, pálo`, pasàn, pások, pígil, pího, piráso, pirìnsa, pukòl, sábi, sadiyà`, sagòt, salúbong, sampàl, sanggà, sapantáha`, sílip, singìl, siyásat, sumpòng, sundò`, sunòd, súnog, sungánga, tagà`, tákot, talagà, tálo, tampálas, tápos, túkop, tuntòn, úbos, ugáli`, úlit, wíka`. (a) From derived words: Inùumága silà sa kanila ng pagsasàlitáan. They were being overtaken by their morning in their conversation (um-ága, § 358). Si Hwána ay hinimatày. Juana was attacked by a fainting-fit (himatày, § 518). (b) From root with shifted accent: Ináabùt nang báta` ang góra. The boy was reaching for his cap. (c) Accent shift lacking: Mínsanin mo, Hwàn, ang paginòm nang gamòt. Take the medicine all at one swallow, Juan. (d) From doubled root, with meaning of repeated action: see isà; barytone root with accent shift: ámo`. 360. A few roots which have actives with mag- form the direct passive from the root with pag- prefixed. On the analogy of other forms (cf. § 369) one should expect this to be the case with roots whose active with mag- stood in contrast with -um- (§ 351); this is clearly the case, however, only in pag-isíp-in, pag-ì-isíp-in p-in-ag-ísip, p-in-ag-ì-ísip: Pinagísip nya ng magnákaw sa isa ng tindáhan. He laid plans for robbing a store (cf. in-ísip, § 359). The other roots which have pag- in the direct passive are: barìl, doòp, kúro`, tapìk. 361. To the active with mag- (1) (§ 353) corresponds a direct passive with pag- and accent shift: pag-putul-ìn, p-in-ag-putòl, etc. (pútol): Pinaghatí ko ang manga itlòg na pinatigasàn ni Hwána. I halved each of the eggs Juana had hard-boiled. Pinagisìp nya ang kahulugàn nang manga sènyas na nàkíta nya ng ibiníbigay nang isa ng sundálo sa isa nyà ng kasamahà ng nàhúle nang kaáway. He figured out the meaning of the signals he saw a soldier make to a comrade who was captured by the enemy. Pinagpúputul nang báta` ang sinúlid. The child is cutting the thread to bits. Pagputulin mò, Hwàn, ang manga siìt. Cut out the bamboo-spines, Juan. Pinagusisá nang hukòm ang manga magnanákaw. The judge cross-examined the robbers. Similarly from kúha, nákaw, sábi, sípa`, súnog. 362. Likewise, corresponding to the active with mag- r (§ 354), is a direct passive with pag- r; see gawà`, kagàt. Passive with pag- (1) r (cf. § 355) from sípa`. 363. Passive with pag- (1) D (cf. § 356): Pinagsabì-sabi nyà sa ibà t ibà ng táo na si Pédro ay nàhúli sa pagnanákaw. He told various people on various occasions, that Pedro was arrested for thievery. 364. The direct passive is made from the root with prefix pang- to correspond to actives with mang- (§ 357): pa-mitas-ìn, pa-mì-mitas-ìn, p-ina-mitàs, p-in-a-mí-mitàs (pitàs). Examples: Inamútan ko si Hwàn nang pinamilì ko ng manga librò. I let Juan purchase from me some of the books I had bought up. Pinamímitas nilà ang manga kamatsilè. They picked the fruits of the tannic acid tree. Pamìmitasìn námin ang manga búlak. We shall pick the capoc cotton. Pinamùlot námin ang manga laglàg na búnga. We picked up the fallen betel-fruits. Pinangútang ko iyà ng salapì` sa kanyà. I had to borrow that money you have there from him. Also from noòd. (6) Special static words. 365. The infix -in- produces static words denoting things which are produced by such and such a process or treated so and so: ang pinítak each of the small sections into which a rice-field is divided by the irrigation trenches (pítak divide; as root-word, division). So from báta`, hingà, káin, lúgaw, púno`, sáing, súlid. (a) With accent shift: inakày. (b) A number of roots (here treated as simple) have the form of words with infix -in- (cf. § 333): hinála`, kinábang, linamnàm, sinungáling, tinápay, tinóla. 366. -in- R: ang ináamà godfather, iníinà godmother; cf. § 412,a. 367. Suffix -in with secondary accent on the first syllable of the underlying word forms static words denoting something which undergoes such and such an action: Ang kalasìng nang kwàlta sa ibà y pára ng isa ng tugtúgin. The clinking of money is for others (than the spender) like music. So from bandà, damdàm, tiìs (only here does the S show itself), tungkòl. (a) Static words with (1) -in, with irregularities (§ 334,b), person or animal like something: amaìn uncle; so from inà. Also of things consumed: inumìn drinking water, kánin (káin) boiled rice ready to eat. (b) The same with pang- in pa-naú-hin guest, if from táo. (c) (2) -in, collective, of places: bukirìn estate, fields, terrain; lupaìn country, part of the world. Of animate creatures, tendency: gulatìn scary, shy. From derived word, in the latter sense, with S on the first of three syllables: pàniwalaìn credulous (paniwála`, § 347). (d) -in with reduplication, from numerals, in the sense of with so many: lilimáhin; from da-lawà (§ 345), da-dalawá-hin. (e) r (2) -in, with irregularity: ka-kan-ìn sweetmeat (káin). (f) The following roots end in -in (§ 333): bayúgin, buhángin, dalángin prayer, kaingìn, muláwin, salamìn. (7) Instrumental passive. 368. The instrumental passive corresponding to the active with -um- and, to a large extent, to that with mag-, is formed with the prefix i- (§ 334,a,3); the actual taking also the infix -in- (§ 334,b,2): i-pútol, i-pù-pútol, i-p-in-útol, i-p-in-ù-pútol. It denotes, transiently, an object given forth, parted from, or used as instrument or the person for whom in such and such an action or process. Iniyalìs nilà ang hárang nang daàn. They removed the obstruction on the road. Iyánib (or: isánib) mo ang iyu ng banìg sa kay Pédro. Make your sleeping-mat overlap Pedro's, i. e. Sleep next to Pedro. Ibinàbágay nang mangkakayò ang damìt sa namímilè sa kanyà. The cloth-merchant is suiting the cloth to her customer. Ibinàbágay ni Hwàn sa kanyà ng kalàgáyan ang kanya ng paggastà. Juan adapts his expenses to his situation. Ibinilanggò nang hukòm si Hwàn. The judge has put Juan into prison. Ibiníngit nya sa lamésa ang orasàn. He put the clock on the edge of the table. Idaan mò sa báhay ni Pédro ang bábuy na itò. Leave this pig at Pedro's house as you pass. Ang bantáyan sa púno nang tulày ay inihágis nang manga lasìng na táo sa ílog. The sentry-box at the head of the bridge was thrown into the river by the drunken men. Ihásà mo ang pangáhit na ytò. Sharpen this razor. Ihinúkay nila nang malálim ang patày. They dug a deep grave for the dead. Íwan mo díto ang báta`. Leave the child here (so: ì-íwan will be left, in-íwan was left, in-ì-íwan is being left). Inilálaàn ko kay Pédro ang ságing na itò. I am putting aside this banana for Pedro (also: itinátaàn). Inilùlúto nya ang gúlay. She is cooking the vegetables (also: ilinùlúto`). Ipinagítan sya sa dalawà ng dalága. He was placed between two young women. Ipináyag ko sa hinilìng nilà ang áki ng sasakyàn. At their request I let them have my vehicle. Ipinútol nya akò nang sinúlid. She cut off some thread for me. Ipútol mo akò nang maìs. Cut some corn for me. Ipùpútol nya ikàw nang tubò. He will cut some sugar-cane for you. Ang kampìt na iyàn ay mapúpurol kapag ipinútol mo nang káhoy. That kitchen-knife will grow dull, if you cut wood with it. Kawáyan ang isinásahìg ni Pédro sa kanya ng báhay. Pedro is using bamboo for flooring his house. Pag pinùpútol ko nà ang liìg nang manòk, ay isáhod mo ang mangkòk na lalagyàn nang dugò`. When I am cutting the chicken's neck, hold under the basin to catch the blood. Isinále nya si Hwàn. He included Juan. Isáli mo si Hwàn. Take Juan along. Isinampày nya sa kanya ng balíkat ang kúmot. He slung the blanket across his shoulder. Isigang mò ang sináing. Put the rice on the fire. Isilid mò sa bóte ang álak. Put the wine into the bottle. Pagulàn ay isoot mò ang kapóte. When it rains put on the rain-coat. Itináwag nang magpapatawàg ang bágo ng kautusàn. The crier cried out the new law. Itinayú nya ang báhay. He erected the house. Itinira nyà sa ákin ang tinápay. He left the bread for me. Itúru mu sa kanyà ang simbáhan. Show him the church. Itúru mo sa ákin ang larò`. Teach me the game. Iwalá mo iyà ng iyo ng sambalílo ng lúma`. Get rid of that old hat of yours. Similarly, from: álay, átas, bagsàk, balíta`, bigày, budbòd, búhos, bulìd, búrol, buwàl, dáos, dikìt, distíno, dugtòng, gápos, hánap, handà`, hatìd, hintò`, hitsà, húlog, kasàl, kawàg, labàs, ladlàd, lagày, laglàg, lákad, lakàs, lalà`, lapàg, lawìt, libìng, ligtàs, líhim, lúlan, luwà`, páyo, sabàd, sáboy, sagòt, sakdàl, sánib, sarà, sigàw, sèrmon, súlong, sunòd, taàn, taàs, tágo`, táli`, tanìm, tángi`, tápon, tuktòk, túloy, túngo, úbos, útos, wisìk. (a) From root with shifted accent: Iniyáabùt nya sa ákin ang librò. He was handing me the book. Iyabùt mo sa ákin ang librò. Hand me the book. 369. The instrumental passive is made from the root with prefix pag- when it corresponds to an active with mag- which stands in contrast with an active with -um- from the same root (§ 351); it is used also to express the instrumental relation more explicitly than the simple form, especially the person for whom. Forms: i-pag-pú-tol, i-pag-pù-pútol, i-p-in-ag-pútol, i-p-in-ag-pù-pútol. Ito ng báhay ang ipinagbili kò. This house is the one I have sold (cf. bumilì buy, magbilì sell). Ang áraw nang kapangànákan ni Risàl ay ipinagdìdíwang sa boò ng Filipínas. Rizal's birthday is celebrated all over the Philippines. Síno ang ipinaglùlúto mo? Whom are you cooking for? (inilùlúto` in preceding section). Ipagpútol mo ngà` akò nang yantòk. Please cut some bamboo for me. Ipagpùpútol kità nang tubò. I will cut you some sugar-cane. Ipinagpútol mo ba akò nang pamilmìt? Did you cut me a pole for fishing? Ipinagpùpútol niya akò nang siìt na gàgawì ng pípa. He is cutting me some bamboo reeds for cigarette-holders. Ang guntìng na iyàn ay mapúpurul agàd, kapag ipinagpútol mo nang damìt. Those scissors will get dull very soon, if you keep using them to cut cloth with. Iyo ng kúnin ang guntìng, kapag ipinagpùpútol nya nang káyo. Take the scissors, if he uses them for cutting cloth. Ang paupó ni Hwà ng sùgálan ay ipinagsábi sa pulìs nang kanya ng kápit-báhay. The gambling party Juan invited was exposed to the police by his neighbor (sinábi was said). Ipinagsakay kò si Hwàn sa áki ng karumáta. I took Juan into my carriage. Ang bágo ng léyi ay ipinagtáwag ni Hwàn. The new law was called out by Juan. Hindí ko bà ipinagútos sa iyò ng gawìn mo itò? Didn't I order you to do this? Also from: kayilà`, labà, látag, sakdàl, sumbòng, takà, tanòng, tapàt. (a) From derived words: ipinaghimatày (himatày, § 518); Ipinagúbus-làkásan niya ang pagtakbò. He exhausted all his strength in his running (úbus-làkásan, § 377,b). 370. i-pag (1), corresponding to mag- (1), § 353: from tápon; also from derived word ma-yábang (§ 454, cf. § 353,a). 371. i-pag r, corresponding to mag- r (§ 354), from tanòng. 372. The instrumental passive from the root with prefix pang- corresponds to the active with mang-: Ipinanghárang nila Pédro ang manga barìl na inágaw nilà sa manga pulìs nang báyan. In holding people up Pedro's gang used the guns they had snatched from the police of the district. Ipinamútol ko nang yantòk ang gúlok. I used the bolo for rattan-cutting. Ipinamùmútol nya akò nang kawáyan. He is cutting bamboo for me. Ipinamùmútol nya nang kawáyan ang bágo ng gúlok. He is using the new bolo for bamboo-cutting. Ipamútol mo nang tubò ang kampìt na itò. Use this kitchen-knife for cane-cutting. So also: áko`, balíta`. (8) Special static words. 373. Special static words with prefix i- express the part of something in such and such a direction, or the direction: ibábaw, ibáyo, ilálim, itaàs, ituktòk; with shifted root: ibabà`. (9) Local passive. 374. The simple local passive, corresponding to the active with -um- and largely to that with mag-, has the suffix (1) -an with the irregularities described in § 334. The forms of the actual mode have also the infix -in-: putúl-an, pù-putúl-an, p-in-utúl-an, p-in-ù-putúl-an. The local passive denotes the thing affected as place in which or the person to whom. Inabútan akò nang ulàn. I was caught by the rain. Agáhan mo ang iyo ng pagparíto. Make early your coming here, i. e. Come here early. Pagkagupìt nang áki ng buhòk ay inahítan nya akò. When he had cut my hair he shaved me. Alisan mò nang manga tinìk ang áki ng salawàl. Take the thorns out of my trousers. Inanyáhan silà ni Hwàn na magpasyàl. They were invited by Juan to go for a walk. Arálan mo ang manga Kapampángan. Teach morals to the Pampangas. Asnan mò ang dáing na isdà`. Salt the fish you lay open. Aptan mò nang páwid ang báhay. Roof the house with nipa-palm. Awítan mo ang manga panaúhin. Sing for the guests. Bakúran mo ang sagíngan sa tabì nang ílog. Fence in the banana-grove by the river. Bakúran mo ang báhay. Put a fence round the house. Binalitáan ko si Hwàn nang manga nangyári sa ákin sa labanàn. I related to Juan my adventures in the war. Bantayan mò ang pálay. Guard the standing rice. Basáhan mo akò nang manga kwènto. Read me some stories. Bigasan mò ang tinóla ng manòk. Make the chicken-stew with rice. Si Pédro ang binilhàn ko nang kabáyo ng itò. It was Pedro I bought this horse from. Sa katapusàn ay kanya ng nàpagkilála ang malaki ng pangánib na kanya ng biningítan. In the end he recognized the great danger into which he had betaken himself. Binuksàn ni Hwàn ang pintò`. Juan opened the door. Dinaanàn nang trèn ang báboy. The pig was run over by the train. Dinaanàn ko si Hwàn. I called for Juan on the way (and took him with me). Dalhàn mo nang túbig ang kabáyo. Bring water to the horse. Dalian mò ang pagdadala ríto nang librò. Bring the book here soon. Ang pabása sa bisíta nang San-Antònyo ay dinaluhàn nang marámi ng táo. The reading at the chapel of San Antonio was attended by many people. Dinamíhan nya ang kinúha nya ng ságing. He took many bananas. Dinamuhàn nyà ang damúha ng malápit sa simbáhan. He cut grass on the pasture near the church. Dinapúan nang manga íbon ang sangà nang káhoy. Birds alighted on the branch of the tree. Dinatnàn kamì nang ulàn. We were overtaken by the rain. Diniláan nya akò. She stuck out her tongue at me (ang díla` the tongue); also: Diláan mo ang mansánas. Lick the apple. Hwag mò ng durúan nang karáyom ang áki ng panyò. Don't leave needles sticking in my handkerchief. Hagkan mò si Nánay. Kiss Mother. Hinalúan nang álak ang gátas. Some wine was mixed into the milk. Hinampasàn ni Pédro ang mukhá ni Hwàn. Pedro hit Juan in the face with a whip. Ang daàn ay hinarángan. The road was obstructed. Hasáan mo ang gúlok na itò. Sharpen this bolo. Hintuan mò ang iyo ng pagsusugàl, Pédro, kung íbig mu ng yumáman ka. Put a stop to your gambling, Pedro, if you want to get rich. Hinùhugásan niyà ang manga pinggàn parà sa manga babáye. He is washing dishes for the women. Hulíhan mo nang isdà` ang palàisdáan. Catch fish in the fish-pond. Ang manga sampày na damìt ay hinípan nang hangin, kanyà` nahúlog sa lúpa`. The clothes on the line were blown by the wind and fell to the ground. Hinípan ko ang píto. I blew the whistle. Hinípan ko ang apòy úpang palakihìn. I blew on the fire to make it larger. Inilágan nya ang simbáhan. He kept away from the church. ... ang kabáyo. He got out of the way of the horse. Inlagan mò ang dumárating na tumátakbo ng kabáyo. Get out of the way of the horse that is coming on the run. Itiman mò ang lubòg nang damìt. Make the dye of the garment black. Inìiyakàn ni Hwána ang kanya ng namatày na kaybígan. Juana is weeping over her dead friend. Hwag mò ng kurutàn, Pédro, ang isdà ng nása dúlang. Don't you take a pinch from the fish on the table, Pedro. Hwag mù ng labánan, Pédro, ang kapatid mù ng matandà`. Don't oppose your older brother, Pedro. Ang landàs na gawì ng kaliwà` ay ang iyo ng lakáran. You must take the path which goes to the left. Lakasan mò ang túlak sa bangkà`. Push hard on the boat. Lakhan mò, Hwàn, ang pirasúhin mo ng matamìs. Break off a big piece of the sugar, Juan. Nilalíman nilà ang húkay nang patày. The grave for the corpse was made deep by them. Ang bantày nang manga kanyòn ay nilayásan ang kanya ng lugàr. The guard of the cannon deserted his post. Ligsihan mò ang pagílag sa lugàr na iyàn. Get out of that place quickly. Hwag mò ng luksuhàn ang tinìk na iyàn. Don't jump on that spine. Lulánan mo nang manggà ang karitòn. Load up the wagon with mangos. Luluran mò si Pédro pagbababàg ninyò. Kick Pedro in the shin when you fight him. Nilusúngan mo bà si Pédro? Did you help Pedro? Lutúan mo nang bigàs ang manòk. Cook some rice in with the (already cooked) chicken. Masdan mò ang bwàn. Look at the moon. Minàmasdan kò ang manga nagdádaa ng táo. I am looking at the people who pass by. Minuráhan nya akò sa pagbibilì nang talòng. He made me a low price on the egg-plant. Muráhan mo ang pagbibilì nang labanòs. Sell your large radishes cheap. Ang tanggápan nang manga sanglà` sa báhay-sangláan ni Pédro ay ninakáwan kagabè. The receiving-place of pledges in Pedro's pawn-shop was robbed last night. Nakáwan mo syà nang kanyà ng salapè`. Rob him of his money. Sa pagbubunò` ni Hwàn at ni Pédro si Pédro ay pinaahàn ni Hwàn. Juan caught Pedro by the leg (or: hurt Pedro in the leg) as they wrestled together; but: Pinaanan nyà ang kanya ng kapatìd na natùtúlog. He lay down with his feet toward his sleeping brother. Hwag mò ng paanàn sa iyò ng paghigà` ang kapatìd mo ng natùtúlog. When you go to bed don't lie with your feet toward your sleeping brother. Pinanáwan sya nang pagiísip. He lost his mind. Patayàn mo nang pitsòn ang nilúgaw. Kill a pigeon for the stew. Patisan mò ang isdà` ng itò. Put shrimp-sauce on this fish. Pinayágan nya ang paraà ng itò. He agreed to this plan. Pilikàn mu ang isdà`. Cut the fins off the fish. Pintahan mò ang padèr na ytò. Paint this wall. Hwag mò ng pintasàn ang damìt na yàn. Don't find fault with that garment. Pitasan mò nang búnga ang manggà. Pick some fruits from the mango tree. Ang pinulútan nilà nang manè` ay ang bakúran ni Hwána. The place where they gathered peanuts was Juana's yard. Pinùpunásan nya ang sahìg. She is scrubbing the floor. Punan mò, Pédro, nang isà ng salapè` ang kwàlta ng ibinigày mo sa ákin. Add half a dollar to the money you gave me, Pedro. Putíkan mo ang kanya ng salawàl. Put mud on his trousers. Pinutúlan ko nang usbòng ang manga kamóte. I cut shoots from the sweet-potatoes. Pinùputlan nyà nang manga sangà ang káhoy na nabwàl. He is cutting the branches off the tree that was blown down. Putúlan mo nang ténga ang áso. Cut the dog's ears. Putlan mò nang súngay ang kalabàw. Cut the horns of the carabao. Pùputúlan ko nang súngay ang usà. I shall cut off the stag's horns. Pùputlàn dàw nya nang buntòt ang áso. He says he will cut off the dog's tail. Sinakyàn námin ang bangká ni Hwàn. We rode in Juan's canoe. Sakyan mò ang bangka ng itò. Get into this canoe. Hwag mù ng saláhan ang iyo ng mangà pagpások sa eskwèlhan. Don't skip going to school, Don't play hookey; but: Sinanglan nyà ang singsìng. He missed the ring (in the juego de anillo). Hwag mù ng sanglàn ang usà. Don't fail to hit the stag. Samáhan mo si Pédro. Go with Pedro. Sayawan mò kamì, Hwána. Dance for us, Juana. Sinigawàn nang páre` ang kanyà ng munisilyò. The priest yelled at his sacristan. Sinikáran nang kabáyo ang karumáta. The horse kicked at the carriage. Siglan mò nang álak ang bóte. Fill the bottle with wine. Untì-untí mo ng subúan ang pitsòn. Feed the squabs little by little. Sinugátan sya ni Pédro. He was wounded by Pedro. Sinukláyan nya ang kanya ng anàk. She combed her child's hair. Sulátan mo si Pédro. Write to Pedro. Tinabúnan na ni Pédro ang húkay. Pedro has already filled up the hole. Tagalan mò ang pagkábitbit nang tablà. Keep holding the board that way. Tagalan mò ang pagtitira díto sa ámin. Stay here with us a long time. Tagpian mò ang báro ng itò. Mend this shirt. Tagpuan mò nang iba ng káyo ang kaluwángan nang sáya. Fill out (literally: cause to meet) the width of the skirt with other cloth. Tamnan mò nang manga púno-ng-nyòg ang bakúran. Plant the yard with cocoanut trees. Tinanúran nya ang báhay sa boò ng magdamàg. He guarded the house all night. Hwag mù ng tanggapàn nang úpa ang kaybígan ko ng iháhatid mò sa estasyòn nang trèn, sapagkàt akò ang ùúpa sa iyò. Don't take any fare from my friend whom you will bring to the railroad station, for I shall pay you. Tapunan mò ang bóte. Cork up the bottle. Hwag mò ng tawánan si Hwàn. Don't laugh at Juan. Tawágan mo si Bathála`. Call on the Lord. Tinayuan nyà nang kamálig ang bakúran. He erected a granary in his yard. Tigasan mò ang lúto nang halayà. Cook the jelly hard. Tinirhàn nya akò nang tinápay. He left some bread for me. Tirhàn mo akò nang inúyat. Leave me some molasses; but: Hwag mò ng tirahàn ang báhay na iyàn. Don't live in that house. Ang báhay na iyòn ay ang kanya ng tinìtirahàn. That house over there is where he lives. Tinulínan nya ang paglákad. He hurried his pace. Tulísan mo ang tasà nang lápis. Sharpen the point of the pencil. Untian mò, Pédro, ang ibíbigay mò ng damò sa kabáyo. Give the horse less grass, Pedro. Ùupàn nang manga panaúhin ang manga bangkù ng itò. The guests will sit on these benches. Orásan mo ang iyo ng pagkáin. Have your meals at stated times. Utángan mo nang salapí si Pédro. Borrow money from Pedro. Oóhan mo ang tanòng. Answer the question in the affirmative. Niwàwalisàn niyà ang sahìg. She is sweeping the floor. Other roots: akmà`, ámot, apòy, balàt, báya`, báyad, bigày, bendisiyòn, búti, dagán, retráto, gámit, gawà`, gupìt, halimhìm, hatìd, háwak, higà`, hitsà, húkay, húlog, íngat, kamìt, kantà, labàs, lagày, lálo`, lápit, lígaw, ligtàs, limòs, mulà`, pagakpàk, palìt, panhìk, pások, prubà, puntà, putòk, sabày, sáboy, sagása`, sákit, salákay, silakbò, subò, súbok, sunòd, sunggàb, soòt, táli`, táma`, tánga`, tángan, tíbay, tibà`, tingìn, túbo`, tugtòg, túlad, túlog, túlong, tungtóng, umpisà, úpa, útos, wisìk. (a) From derived words: Sya y tinagilíran ni Pédro. Pedro hit him in the side (ta-gílid, § 523), but: Tinaligdàn ni Hwàn si Pédro pagdadaàn nitò sa kanya ng harapàn. Juan turned away from Pedro when the latter came before him. Tinalikdàn ni Hwàn si Pédro. Juan turned his back on Pedro (talíkod, § 523). (b) Irregularly without accent shift before the suffix: Áki ng binitáwan (or: binitíwan) ang bóte. I let go my hold on the bottle. Bitíwan mo ang lúbid. Let go of the rope. Dinaánan siyà nang isa ng silakbò nang gálit. A fit of anger came upon him. ... nang isa ng masamà ng pagiísip. An evil thought came to him. Dinàdaánan sya nang isa ng malakì ng kalungkútan. A great grief is upon him. ... nang pagkaulòl. He is under an attack of madness. Cf. daanàn, above. Minatáan nang bágo ng táo ang aswàng. The young man looked round for the vampire. Matáan mo ang magnanákaw. Keep an eye open for the thief. So from: sèrmon. (c) From root with accent shift (so that the total shift is two syllables): Ang utusàn nang kapitàn ay tinamaàn nang bála. The captain's orderly was hit by a bullet. Ang lulòd ni Pédro ay tinamaàn nang bála. Pedro got shot in the shin. Tinamaàn nang kulòg (nang lintìk) ang isa ng púnu-ng-manggà. A mango tree was struck by the thunder (by lightning). Tamaàn ka nang lintìk! May the lightning strike you! (curse.) 375. The local passive is formed from the root with pag- when it corresponds to an active in which mag- is contrasted with -um- (§ 351) or when the local relation, especially of person for whom, is highly explicit: pag-putúl-an, pag-pù-putúl-an, p-in-ag-putúl-an, p-in-ag-pù-putúl-an. Examples: Ang pagsakày sa kabáyo ay hindí magaà ng pagarálan kung salbáhe ang kabáyo. Riding horseback is not easy to learn if the horse is unruly. Hindí káya ni Hwàn ang kanya ng pinagàarálan. Juan's studies are too hard for him. Pagbàbalikàn kità. I will come back to you. Pagbalikàn mo akò. Come back to me. Ang útang ni Maryà ay pinagbayáran nang kanya ng kapatìd na babáye. Maria's debt was paid off by her sister. Ang áki ng kapatìd na laláki ang pinagbilhàn ko nito ng báhay. I sold this house to my brother. Napatìd ang lúbid na kanya ng pinagbìbiyabúhan. The rope on which he was swinging broke. Ang pinagharángan kina Hwàn ay isa ng lugàr na malápit sa manggáhan sa daà-ng-Balíwag. The place where Juan and his company were held up was a spot near the mango-grove on the Baliuag road. Pagharían mo ng mabúte ang pulò ng itò. Rule righteously over this island. Paghasáan mo nang manga pangáhit ang hasaà ng itò. Use this whetstone to sharpen razors on. Ang pinaghatdan kò nang gátas ay maláyo`. The place to which I delivered the milk was a long way off. Sa pasíga ng itò y walà ng lugàr na pinaghùhubaràn nang damìt. At this beach there is no place for undressing. ang pinagibhàn the point of difference, the difference. Pagingátan mo ng dalhìn ang túbo ng kristàl na iyàn, sapagkàt baká magkàputòl-putòl iyàn kung hindí ka maíngat nang pagdadalà. Carry that glass tube carefully, because it might get smashed if you are not careful about the carrying it. Pinagkabyawàn nilà ang lugàr na itò. This place is where they pressed sugar-cane. Ang pinagkàkabyawàn námin ay isa ng lugàr na mataàs káy sa tubúhan. The place where we press sugar-cane is a place higher than the cane-field. Pagkabyawàn ninyò nang tubò ang bágo ng kabyáwan. Press the cane in the new press. Pagkàbyawàn nilà ang bágo ng tayò ng kabyáwan. They will press sugar-cane in the newly-erected press. Ang hwátaw ang sya mò ng pagkánan. The Chinese bowl is what you are to eat from. Si Pédro ang pinagkúnan nang manga kasangkápa ng itò. Pedro is the one from whom we got these tools. Si Migèl ang pinagkùkúnan nya nang kwàlta ng pangbilè nang kalabàw. Miguel is the one from whom he gets money to buy carabao. Ang pagkúnan mo nang pálay ay ang sáko ng may kúlang. The place for you to take rice is the sack that is already broken. Hwag mò ng paglaruwàn, Hwàn, ang kutìng, sapagkàt baká mo iyàn màbúlag. Don't play with the kitten, Juan, for you might inadvertently blind it. Paglarwan mò ang bóla. Play (with the) ball. Ang kutìng ay nàbálot sa pinaglàlaruwàn nya ng damìt. The kitten got wrapped up in the piece of cloth with which it was playing. Pagmasdan mò ang bwàn. Look carefully at the moon. Hwag mò ng pagputúlan nang ano màn ang sangkála ng iyàn. Don't cut anything on that cutting-block. Pinagsalitaàn ni Hwàn ang kanyà ng manga báta ng kapatìd. Juan gave his little brothers a talking-to. Similarly: bintàng, daàn, daràs, dasàl, háti`, hinála`, katàm, kublì, patày, pílit, sábi, silbì, sísi, tagpò`, tipàn, úsap. (a) From a phrase: pinagsa-ulàn (sa ulè`). (b) From a derived word: Mangà pinagpìpìtagánan ko ng ginoò! Respected sirs, Dear sirs (in oral or written address). (c) Irregularly without accent shift: pinagdaánan (daàn), cf. § 374,b. (d) With extra accent shift, corresponding to active with mag- (1): Pagputulàn mo, Hwàn, nang manga usbòng ang kalabása. Cut a bundle of shoots from the pumpkin, Juan. As bitìw lacks the accent shift before -an (§ 374,b), the form with pag- and shift of one syllable belongs here: Pinagbitiwan nyà ang manga manùk na kanya ng tángan. She let go of all the chickens she was holding. (e) With reduplication of the root, corresponding to the active with mag- r (§ 354): pinagsisiglàn (silìd). (f) With both extra accent shift and reduplication, corresponding to § 355: Pinagdàdadagukàn nya ang manga kaáway niyà. He was dealing blows to his enemies right and left (dágok a blow with the fist). (g) From doubled root (cf. the active, § 356): pinagtùtulùng-tulúngan (túlong). 376. The local passive with pang- corresponds to actives with mang-: pa-mutúl-an, pa-mù-mutúl-an, p-in-a-mutúl-an, p-in-a-mù-mutúl-an. Saàn ang pinanggalíngan mo?--Ang pinanggalíngan ko ay an báya-ng-Mayníla`. Where have you come from?--I come from Manila. Ang manga pinítak na kadátig nang sápa` ay sya nyà ng pinanggágapásan (or: sya nyà ng pinamùmutúlan nang pálay). The sections of the rice-field bordering on the ditch are the ones he is cutting rice from. Pinangitlugàn nang manòk ang kahò ng itò. The hen laid its eggs in this box. Hwag mò ng pamitasàn nang búnga ang átis na nása tabì nang balòn. Don't pick the fruits from the atis tree by the side of the well. Siya kò ng pamìmitasàn nang búnga ang byábas na nása gitná nang bakúran. I shall pick fruits from the guava tree in the middle of the yard. Ali ng lugàr ang iyo ng pinamutúlan nang damò? Which place did you cut grass from? Sinundó ni Pédro ang kapatìd na babáye sa báhay na pinanànahían. Pedro fetched his sister from the house where she was working as seamstress. So also from: tálo, tiwála`. (a) With pang-hin- the local passive corresponds to the active with mang-hin- (§ 357,b); the reduplication affects the hin- which, theoretically, we may regard as part of the underlying word. "Magáral ka ng mabúti at panghinayángan mo ang mahalagà ng panahòn," sinábi ni Hwàn sa kanya ng anàk. "Study hard and take account of the precious time," said Juan to his son. Káylan pa kayá panghìhinayángan nang manga táo ang manga áni ng taòn-taò y nàsìsírà nang luktòn o nang túyot? When will the people at last regret the harvests that are every year destroyed by locusts or by drought? Pinanghinayángan nilà ang nálubog na bangkà`. They were sorry about the canoe that had sunk. Pinanghìhinayángan námin ang marámi ng búhay na ginúgol nang báyan sa pagtatanggòl sa katwíran. We regret the many lives lost by the country in the defense of its rights. (sáyang); similarly from gantì: panghigantihàn. (10) Special static words. 377. With S -an special static words are formed from oxytone roots, without the irregularities described in § 334. In meaning they fall into two types, which, however, are not always clearly distinct. (a) They express an action by two or more actors, a kind of plural of root words of the type described at § 341,3,a. Ang àlísan nang manga aluwáge ay sa lúnes nang hápon. The leaving of the carpenters is fixed for Monday afternoon. ang ìnúman a drinking party. Ang ìyákan nang manga báta` ay nárinig ko sa kalsáda. I heard on the street the crying of the children. Ang kàlabúgan nang manga nalaglàg na nyòg dahilàn sa malakàs na hángin ay nárinig hanggàng sa maláyo ng lugàr. The thud of the cocoanuts that were thrown down by the strong wind was audible for some distance away. Ang kàlasíngan nang manga kwaltà ng laglàg sa bulsà ni Hwàn ay sya ng nakàgísing kay Pédro. The rattling of the coins falling from Juan's purse was what woke Pedro up. Ang kantáhan nang manga íbon ay ginágawà nila kung umága. The birds sing together in the morning. Ang kùrútan nilà sa nilúto ko ng isdà` ay lubhà ng madalàs. They often pinched pieces out of the fish I had cooked. Ang litsúnan nila Hwàn ay hindí nátulòy. The barbecue of Juan and his friends did not come off. Ang luksúhan nang manga luktòn ay totoò ng maiiklè`. The leaps of the small grasshoppers are very short. Ang pàgakpákan nang manga táo pagkaraàn nang talumpáte` ay lubhà ng mahába`. The applause of the people after the speech was very long. Ang pintásan ni Hwána at ni Maryà ay parého ng hindí totoò. The criticisms of Juana and Maria make of each other are equally untrue. Ang kanyà ng manga lalagyàn nang tuba` ay pùnúa ng lahàt. His containers for the sap are all full. Ang kanila ng sàkáyan sa trèn ay sa linggò nang umága. They are all to take the train Sunday morning. Naparoòn akò kagabè sa isa ng sàyáwan. I went to a dance last night. Ang sìgáwan nang manga báta` sa kalsáda ay nakabíbingì. The shouting of the children on the street is deafening. ang tàhúlan nang manga áso the baying together of the dogs. ang tàyáan a staking, a putting up of stakes (ang tayà` a stake in a bet or game). Nárinig sa isa ng ùpúan nang manga Intsèk ang kwènto ng itò. This story was heard in a gathering of Chinamen. Similarly, from: kaluskòs, patày, pustà, putàk, salità`, sugàl, takbò, tipàn, tugtòg, umpòk. From derived word: Ang hìmagsíkan sa Filipínas ay natápus nà. The fighting in the Philippines is over. (as though from a form -himagsìk, see § 518). This formation underlies further derivatives, see §§ 352,d. 357,a. (b) The other meaning of the formation S -an is that of an object viewed, rather explicitly (cf. § 380), as the scene of plural action or the place of things. So: ang bìgásan the place where hulled rice is made, threshing floor for rice, rice-mill. Si Hwàn ang bìgáyan nilà nang kanilà ng manga ninákaw na aláhas. Juan is the one to whom they give the jewelry they have stolen. ang bìlangúan a prison (ang bilanggò` a prisoner). Ang kanila ng bìlíhan nang pálay ay sa kamálig ni Hwàn. The place where they buy rice is in Juan's storehouse. Ang dàánan nang manga sundálo ay ang landàs na itò. The usual route of the soldiers is this path. ang hampásan the whipping-bench. Ang manga magkakápit-báhay na si Andrès, Kulàs, at Pédro ay nagtàtálo tungkùl sa kaní-kanilà ng hanggáhan nang bakúran. The neighbors Andrés, Nicolás, and Pedro are disputing about the boundaries of their grounds. Sa pagítan nang báya-ng-Balíwag at báya-ng-San-Migèl ay máy-roo ng isa lámang na hintúan ang manga naglálakad. Pedestrians have only one stopping-place between the towns of Baliuag and San Miguel. Si Pédro ay sya ng hìráman nang salapì` nang manga táo sa báyan. Pedro is the one from whom the people in the town borrow money. ang hungkúyan a machine for fanning the pounded rice. Ang isa ng taburéte lámang ang ginawá nila ng làgáyan nang kanila ng manga sombréro, sapagkàt ang sabitàn ay punú nà. A chair was all they had to lay their hats on, for the hat-rack was already full. Ang làngúyan sa ílog ay bumábaw. The swimming-place in the river grew shallow. ang làrúan the playground. Ang lìbángan sa manga báta` sa manga bapòr na naglálayag sa dágat nang Pasífiko ay lubhà ng malilínis na lugàr. The play-rooms for children on the steamers that ply on the Pacific Ocean are very neat places. ang nyúgan a cocoanut grove. Ang pàtáyan nang bábuy ay nasúnog. The pork slaughter-house burned down. ang pàtísan a factory for shrimp-sauce (patìs, made of the small shrimp called hípon). Ang báro ng punìt-punìt ay sya nyà ng ginawà ng tagpían nang manga retáso. She sewed the patches all on to the ragged blouse. Ang kanila ng tagpúan ay ang daà-ng-Balíwag. Their meeting-place is the Baliuag road. ang tanyágan an exhibition, exposition. ang timbángan a pair of scales. ang tindáhan a shop, store (ang tindà the goods for sale in a store). Similarly, from: aklàt, bantày, bigtì, biniyàg, bukàs, buntòt, dasàl, gawà`, hagdàn, higà`, hukòm, kabiyàw, kublì, kulòng, libìng, luksò, manggà, pintà, pintò, pitàg, punlà`, sampày, sanglà`, simbà, sahàn, tanggàp, tarangkà, tirà, upò`. A very few show irregularities: eskwèl-han, paá-nan, tòto-hánan the truth (totoò); the secondary accent is lacking in damú-han, tubú-han; irregular in kumpìsál-an. From a compound word: úbus-làkásan (úbos-lakàs). From a phrase: sà-lawáhan changeable, fickle, as though from sa lawà; for the latter see § 345. From derived words: ang ìnumínan place for drinking-water, water-shelf (inum-ìn, § 367,a); ang sìlangán-an the east (silang-àn, § 379. 378. The formation (1) S -an is made from barytone roots and corresponds in meaning to (a) in the preceding type; the suffix is added as a rule without irregularity. Ang ìbígan ni Maryà at ni Hwàn ay natápus sa pagtatampúhan. The love-affair of Maria and Juan ended through their contrariness. Ang làyásan nang manga sundálo ay hindí maampàt nang kanila ng manga pinúno`. The deserting of the soldiers could not be stopped by their officers. Sa miyèrkules ang lùlánan nilà sa trèn. On Wednesday they are to embark on the train. Ang pùlútan nilà nang kwaltà ay náhintò` nang márinig nilà ang putòk. Their scrambling for money ceased when they heard the crash. ang tìpúnan a meeting. So: háyag, húni, káin, kílos, sáma, túloy. Irregular in form is: Ang tàwánan nila Hwàn ay náhinto dahilàn sa kanila ng pagkàgúlat. The laughter of Juan's crowd stopped on account of their surprise (táwa). Irregular in meaning, as though local instead of plural, is: Ang gulòd na itò ay sya ng sìlángan nang áraw. This hill is the place where the sun rises (sílang). 379. The form from barytone roots corresponding to the type in § 377,b and often also to type a, is: (2) -an, without irregularities: Ang agawàn nang manga unggò` ay magulò. The grabbing by the monkeys was confused. ang basahàn a reading-room, library. Bulakàn Bulacán (name of a province, if from búlak a cluster of capoc cotton). Ang maliìt na úna ng itò ay sya kò ng duruàn nang manga aspilè. This little cushion is where I stick my needles. ang haluàn a mixing-vessel. ang hugasàn a place for washing dishes. ang hulihàn nang isdà` a fishing-expedition. Si Hwána ay isa ng babáye ng kutuhàn. Juana is a lousy woman. Ang labanàn nang manga Tùrkos at Inggléses ay kasulukúyan pa lámang. The warfare between the Turks and the English is only now taking place. Ang kanila ng lakaràn ay lubhà ng masayà. Their walking party is very merry. Ang kanila ng lusungàn ay hindí natápus na mabúte, sapagkàt marámi sa manga táo ay matamàd. Their cooperative scheme did not turn out well, because most of the people were lazy. Ang murahàn ni Hwána at ni Maryà ay nárinig nang boò ng báyan. The revilings of Juana and Maria were heard by the whole town. Sa báya-ng-San-Migèl ay nangyáre ang isa ng nakawàn. In the town of San Miguel a robbery took place. Ang tablà ng itò ay ginawà ng pakuàn nang manga báta` sa manga páku ng aspilè na kinúha nilà. The children used this board for hammering in the tacks they had taken. Ang bútas nang bangka` ay sya ng ginawà ng pasakàn ni Pédro nang pagkìt. The leak in the canoe was where Pedro calked in the wax. ang putikàn a clay-pit; a person or thing covered with mud. Ang isà ng labangàn ay syà ng nagìng silangàn kay Hesùs. Jesus was born in a manger; ang kátri ng silangàn ni Hwána the bed in which Juana's children were born. Sya y sugatàn He is wounded; ang sugatàn the wounded (as, after a battle). ang sulatàn a writing-desk. Ang sílong nang báhay ay sya nyà ng taguàn nang manga kasangkápan sa pagaalwáge. The ground-floor of his house is where he keeps his carpentry tools. Ang kuwàrto ng itò ay sya kò ng tulugàn. This room is my sleeping-place. Ang tulugàn nang báhay ni Hwàn ay nása bubungàn. The sleeping-quarters in Juan's house are on the roof. ang utusàn a servant, a waiter, an orderly. Similarly: áral, búkol, dáhil, hárang, hása`, íhaw, ílaw, káin, lúto`, sábit, sábong, tápon, túlis, úlo, úpa, óras. With irregularities: hàlamanàn garden, flower-pot (haláman) has secondary accent on the first of three syllables; angkàn the members of a given person's immediate family, not including himself: ang angkàn ni Hwàn Krùs Juan Cruz' wife and children (from -ának, cf. mag-ának, § 358,a); kwayanàn, beside kawayanàn (kawáyan). With irregularity and reduplication: ka-kan-àn (-káin). 380. (1) -an with irregularities forms static words denoting objects by the action for which they are locally used or by the things they are the place of; the local meaning is less explicit, and the object has more fixed identity apart from its local relation than is the case in the preceding forms. This distinction is very clear where both forms occur from the same root (cf. kulòng, lagày); it may disappear where only one form is made (sagíngan, atísan have the same value as nyúgan). ang atísan a grove of atis trees. Ang asuhàn nang báhay ni Pédro ay nasúnog. The chimney in Pedro's house burned out. Bigasàn ang kanya ng sináing. Her boiled rice has raw rice in it, is not done. Ang kanya ng damìt ay pulahàn. Her clothes are all red. Sya y isà ng pulahàn. He is a Red, a member of the Red party. ang silángan the east, also Silángan Silangan (name of a town). ang taanàn a fugitive. ang manòk na talúnan the defeated game-cock; lúto ng talúnan a dish in which the defeated game-cock is cooked with ginger. Similarly: bákod, bubòng, dúlo, gawà`, hanggà, haràp, kulòng, labàng, larò`, likòd, lulòd, paà, ságing, tintéro. (a) Some roots which begin with l and most of those whose irregularity involves contraction, have reduplication in this form: Ang lalagyàn ko nang librò ay ang mésa ng itò. This table is my bookstand. Ang uupà ng itò ay gàgamítin nang manga panaúhin. The guests will sit on these seats. Ang uupà ng itò ay sa háre`. This seat is for the king. luluràn shin. Similarly: hihigàn (higà`), lalamúnan (lámon), lalawígan (láwig), sasakyàn (sakày), titirhàn (tirà). (b) From derived words: Napútol nilà ang púno-ng-káhoy sa kalahatían. They cut the tree at the middle. Nalagòt ang lúbid sa kalahatían. The rope broke at the middle. (kalaháti`, § 519). Ang bútas nang bangkà` ay nása tagilíran. The leak in the canoe is in the side. Nilagyàn ni Hwàn nang tagilíran ang kanya ng báhay. Juan put side-walls on his house. (tagílid, § 523). 381. D -an, with accent shift if the root is barytone, forms words denoting an object which is an imitation or miniature of such and such: ang dagat-dagátan a lake; ang kabá-kabayúhan a play-horse; ang tao-taúhan a manikin, doll; the pupil of the eye; ang baril-barílan a toy-gun. Further derivatives from this formation, see § 352,d. 382. Many roots here treated, because felt, as simple, end in -an: bangàn, batalàn, dalandàn, hagdàn, haláman, kánan, kápitan, kapitàn, kawáyan, laráwan, pagítan, pakuwàn, pangnàn a hand-basket, pasígan (Pásig is the name of a river), pinggàn, saguwàn a paddle, sangkálan, tampalásan, tahílan. 383. Similar formations with pang- prefixed add the element of meaning present in the transient formations with mang- and pang-; they have secondary accent on the prefix, as though it formed part of the underlying word: (a) pàng- -an (cf. § 377): Ang kahò ng itò ay sya ng pàngitlúgan nang manòk. This box is the place where the hen lays its eggs. (b) pàng- (1) -an (cf. § 378): Si Hwàn ay sya ng paráti ng pàmunúan nang básag-úlo. Juan is the one who always starts the fighting. (c) pàng- (2) -an (cf. § 379): pàngaserahàn boarding-place. II. Secondary groups. 1. Prefix si-. 384. The prefix si- is used only in active transient forms, and is always preceded by mag- or nag-: mag-si-pútol, mag-sì-si-pútol, nag-si-pútol, nag-sì-si-pútol. In meaning these forms are explicit plurals of the primary active forms. Occasionally the plural value is emphasized by infixation of -ang- into the mag- or nag-. 385. From the simple root the explicit plural with si- corresponds to the primary actives with -um- or, in many cases, with mag-. Nagsiílag sila sa báyan nang itò y pasúkin nang manga kaáway. They all fled from the town when the enemy entered it. Ang manga áso ay nagsìsilámon. The dogs are eating. Magsiligáya kayò. Rejoice, Be glad. Ang manga langgàm ay nagsìsilipumpòn (or: nagsìsilípon) sa nápatay nila ng gagambà. The ants are crowding all over the spider they have killed. Nagsìsipútol sila ng lahàt nang tubò nang kamì ay dumatìng. They were cutting sugar-cane when we arrived. Magsipútol kayò nang tubò. Do you all cut sugar-cane. So from: akiyàt, alìs, dálaw, dalò, datìng, húli, húsay, iyàk, kantà, kápit, lakì, lípat, lúlan, pígil, puntà, pustà, sáyad, tindìg, tugtòg, túlong, túngo, uwì`. (a) Plurality emphasized: Nangagsiúrong ang manga sundálo. The soldiers retreated. So also from alìs. 386. This formation is made from the root with pag- prefixed when it corresponds to primary actives with mag- in contrast with -um- (§ 351). Nagsìsipagáral silà. They are studying. Magsipagáral kayò. Study. Ang manga báta` ay áyaw magsipagbíhis. The children don't want to change their clothes, get dressed up. Ang manga langgàm ay nagsìsipagípon (or: nagsìsipaglípon) nang pagkáin kung tagáraw. The ants store up food in the hot season. Magsipagpútol kayò, Pédro, nang káhoy na gàgamítin sa paglilitsòn. Pedro, do you folks cut some wood to be used in the barbecue. "Magsìsipagpútol dàw sila nang dikóla," ang sábi ni Hwána. "They say they are going to cut off the trains of their skirts," said Juana. Napsipagpútol nang buhòk ang manga Intsèk. The Chinamen cut off their queues. Nagsìsipagpútol nang buhòk ang manga Intsèk na si Yèng at Tsàng, nang sila y datnàn ko sa kanila ng tindáhan. The Chinamen Yeng and Chang were cutting their queues when I came upon them in their shop. Nagsipagtipìd ang sundálo. The soldiers economized. So from: basà`, dasàl, hintò`, larò`, pasiyàl, sísi, sugàl, takbò, tindìg, yukayòk. (a) Plurality emphasized: nangagsipagtakbò. (b) The pag- is used when the underlying word is a derived word: Ang manga sundálo ng Tagálog ay nagsipaghimagsìk. The Tagalog soldiers revolted (-himagsìk, § 518). Nagsipaghìmagsíkan silà. They fought each other (hìmagsíkan, § 377,a). So from: agawàn (§ 379), -bugtúngan (§ 377,a), labanàn (§ 379), takbúhan (§ 377,a). Cf. § 406. (c) The same formation with accent shift of the root corresponds to primary actives with mag- (1), § 353. It occurs from: bálot, lákad, líbot. 387. With pang- prefixed to the root, this formation corresponds to the primary active with mang- (§ 357). Magsipamangká táyo. Let's all go canoeing. Magsìsipamiyábas kamì sa manga gúbat na malápit. We are going guava-picking in the jungles near here. Si Pédro at si Hwàn ay umáhon sa bundòk úpang magsipamútol nang káhoy na asanà`. Pedro and Juan went up into the mountains to cut asana. Àáhon kamì sa bundòk at magsìsipamútol kamì nang muláwin. We are going up into the mountains to cut molave. So from: barìl, hína`, hingì`, noòd, tahímik, tálo. (a) With pang-hin-, cf. § 357,b: Silà y nagsipanghimagsìk. They made a revolution. 2. The prefix paki-. 388. The prefix paki-, which forms simple static forms, transients, and abstracts, expresses that the subject of the sentence performs or undergoes the action along with others that were involved in it before,--this either through interference or by favor of someone else. 389. Simple static form: ang pakikinábang the obtaining of profit (kinábang) in trade with others; also: holy communion. So pakipútol, in command (cf. § 341,3,c), cut as a favor. 390. The active transient and the abstract have the forms: maki-pútol, makì-ki-pútol, naki-pútol, nakì-ki-pútol, paki-ki-pútol, i. e. the reduplication affects the syllable -ki-. Ang kapitàn ay nagpadalà nang isa ng sekréta sa lúpà nang kaáway úpang makiramdàm nang kanila ng kìlúsan. The captain sent a spy to the enemy's country to spy out (literally: perceive along) their movements. Makìkikáin akò kina Lílay. I am going to Lilay's for a meal. Si Pédro ay nakikáin kina Hwàn. Pedro took a meal at Juan's house. Nakipútol akò nang damò sa lúpà ni Mariyáno. I obtained permission to cut grass from Mariano's land. Sila y nàròroòn sa búkid ni Pédro at nakìkipútol nang damò. They have gone to Pedro's field and are cutting grass there by his permission. Pumaroòn ka t makipútol nang damò. Go and ask them to let you cut some grass. Pakikipútol díto ni Hwàn nang damò ay singilìn mo ang útang nya. When Juan asks to be allowed to cut grass here, dun him for his debt. Sila y nakisúno kay Mariyà. They had Maria let them live in her house with her. So: sakày, sáma, túloy, túlog. (a) With accent shift of the root (§ 337): makialàm look after someone, nose into others' affairs (álam). 391. The root has pag- when the formation corresponds to a primary active with mag- in contrast with -um- (§ 351): Nakìkipagáway ang báta ng itò, kanyà` hindí dápat pahintulúta ng madalàs na manáog nang báhay. As this boy gets into fights, he should not often be allowed to leave the house. Nakipagáway si Pédro. Pedro got into the fight. Nasaktàn si Hwàn sa kanya ng pakikipaglarò`. Juan got hurt when he joined into the game. So from: bunò`, dalamháti`, lában, tagpò`, úsap. (a) From derived words: Hwag kà ng makipaglàngúyan, Hwàn, at baká ka malúnod. Don't go swimming with the crowd, Juan, I am afraid you might get drowned. Makìkipaglàngúyan ka bà, Pédro? Are you going along swimming, Pedro? Nakipagluksúhan si Hwàn nang idáos ang manga larò`. Juan entered in the jumping-contest when the games were held. Similarly, from: pustá-han, siksík-an, takbú-han. All these belong under § 377,a. See also § 427,b. (b) Corresponding to primary active with mag- (1) § 353: Nakipagbabàg si Pédro. Pedro got into a free fight (bábag). 392. The root has pang-, corresponding to a primary active with mang-: Sya y hindí pinahintulútan sa kanya ng pakikipamútol nang tubò. His request to be allowed to cut cane was not granted. 393. In the passive the paki- expresses that the subject undergoes the action along with others, often as a favor on the part of the actor. So direct passive: paki-putúl-in be cut, as a favor on the part of the one who does the cutting; the recipient of the favor is the speaker. 394. In the instrumental passive the meaning is similar; sometimes, however, the instrumental passive is used with the person asking the favor as agent. Maárì mo ngà ng ipakihúlog sa kuréyo ang súlat? Will you please mail my letter for me? (literally: Can my letter please be thrown-along-with-yours or thrown-as-a-favor into the mail by you?). Ipinakihúlog ni Pédro ang áki ng súlat. Pedro mailed my letter (along with his or as a favor) for me. Ipinakìkihúlog ko lámang kay Pédro ang áki ng manga súlat. I am asking Pedro to mail my letters for me; here ipinakìkihúlog is not that thrown as a favor, but that asked to be thrown as a favor. Ipakìkipútol daw ni Hwàn ang buhòk nang alílà nya ng Intsèk. Juan says he will ask someone to cut his Chinese servant's hair; ipakìkipútol is here that asked to be cut as a favor, and the relation of asking is the only thing expressed by the instrumental (rather than the direct) passive. 395. The root has pag-, corresponding to § 351: Ipakipagpútol mo ngà` nang buhòk ang guntìng na itò, úpang áti ng masubúkan ang húsay nang talìm. Please use this shears in cutting hair, so that we may test the quality of the edge (genuine instrumental passive). Ipakìkipagpútol daw nya akò nang búhò` pagáhon nya sa bundòk. He says he will cut some bamboo for me when he goes up into the mountains. (genuine instrumental passive). Ipinakipagpútol akò ni Hwàn nang tubò. Juan had someone cut me some sugar-cane (literally: I was asked to be cut for as a favor). Ipinakìkipagpútol daw ni Hwàn si Pédro nang labòng. Juan says he is having someone cut bamboo-shoots for Pedro. 396. Local passive with paki-: pinakibalitáan was ascertained by the actor getting people to tell him as a favor. (a) From shifted root: pinakialamàn. (b) With pag- (cf. § 352): pinakìkipagtakbuhàn. 3. The prefix ka-. 397. Secondary forms with the prefix ka- are of most varied meaning; the principal types express association of two individuals or groups and involuntary action. In accented form the prefix kà- expresses chiefly accidental occurrence. In certain passives associated with this group the prefix itself does not appear. (1) Simple static forms. 398. Words with prefix ka- denote objects (or groups) standing in such and such a relation to another object (or group). Sya y áki ng nagìng kabaláe. He (she) has become my fellow-parent-in-law, i. e. Our children have intermarried; the form ka-baláe merely makes explicit the element of relation present in the simple word: Si Bantùg ay áki ng baláe. Bantug's son (daughter) has married my daughter (son). Ang manga áso ay nása kabilá nang bákod. The dogs are on the other side of the fence (the simple -bilà` does not occur; the idea of other side is always envisaged as relative). Ang búkid ni Hwàn ay karátig nang kay Pédro. Juan's field borders on Pedro's. Ang mésa ng itò y kakúlay nang kahòn. This table is of the same color as the chest. Si Hwàn ang kalában ny Andrès sa larò ng dáma. Juan is Andres' opponent at checkers. Kamatà si Hwàn ni Pédro. Juan and Pedro took to each other from first sight. Ang tagpí nang báro ni Pédro ay hindí kamukhá nang báro`. The patch on Juan's blouse does not match the blouse. ang áki ng kapatìd na si Hwàn my brother Juan. ang áki ng kapútol na si Hwàn my brother Juan; ang kapútol nang tubò a piece (broken off) of the sugar-cane. Ang kasánib nang áki ng banìg ay ang banìg ni Manuwèl. Manuel's sleeping-mat and mine overlap (kasánib one of two things of which one overlaps the other). walà ng kasangkàp without accompaniments, trimmings, affixes. Si Mariyáno ang kasunod kò ng lumàlákad sa kalsáda. Mariano was the one who was walking behind me on the street; ang kasunod kò ng naparoòn sa simbáhan the one who followed me in going to church (kasunòd one of two persons one of whom is following the other). ang katúngo the person one is dealing with, the other party. Si Pédro ang kaugáli nang kanya ng kaybíga ng si Hwàn. Pedro has the same habits as his friend Juan. Similarly from: áway, báyan, biyàk, bunò`, ribàl, haràp, kilála, kláse, lákip, larò`, pantày, partè, sabuwàt, sáli, sálo, sáma, súno`, tapàt, timbà`, untì`, úsap, walà`. Divergent in meaning are katáo (§ 255), kagabì, kahápon (§ 259). Cf. also § 520. (a) From derived words: Syà y isa kò ng kamagának. He is a relative of mine (mag-ának, § 358,a), and kamakalawà (§ 259, from maka-lawà, § 453). (b) From a phrase: ang kasa-ng-báhay a person dwelling in the same house with another, a housemate (isà ng báhay). (c) From shifted root (§ 337): Si Hwàn ay kagalìt ni Pédro at ni Kulàs. Juan is at odds with Pedro and Nicolás. ang kanyà ng kagalìt the person or persons with whom he is at odds. Si Pédro ang nagìng kasirá ni Hwàn. It is Pedro with whom Juan is angry. Hindí ko katalò si Párì Hwàn. I don't play winning-and-losing games with Father Juan. Similarly from álam, sáma. (d) The root is reduplicated in a few cases: Si Pédro ang áki ng kababáyan. Pedro is my fellow-townsman (beside kabáyan); katutúbo` native, ingrown, inborn, inherited. 399. kà-ka-. With accented reduplication of the prefix these forms emphasize the incompleteness of the correlative object: Kàkapútol lámang na tubò ang áki ng nàkúha. I got only a little piece of the sugar-cane. So also kákauntè`. 400. ka- R. With accented reduplication of the underlying word ka- forms words expressing the recent completion of an act; they are used impersonally (§ 77) or as conjunctive attributes. Kaàáway pa lámang ni Hwàn sa kanya ng kalarò`. Juan has only just now quarreled with his playmate. Kabàbángon ko. I have just got up. Kagàgáling sa báyan nang kapatìd ko ng babáye. My sister has just come back from town. Kahíhiga ko pa lámang. I had just then lain down. Kalàlarú ku pa lámang sa báta`. I have just finished playing with the child. Kapùpútol ko pa lámang nang yantòk. I have only just now cut some rattan. So gísing, káin. (a) ka-pag- R, with the usual value of pag- (§ 369, etc.): Kapagpùpútol lámang ni Hwàn nang kawáyan. Juan has just come from cutting bamboo. (b) ka-pang- R, corresponding to active with mang- (§ 357): kapamùmútol (pútol). 401. ka- D. With doubling of the root ka- has causative value: it expresses that which causes such and such an involuntary action, specifically, such and such an emotion: Ang dumatìng na bálang ay katákot-tákot ang dámi. The locusts that came were frightful in quantity. So from hiyà`, takà. Vowel-contraction in kàwáwa` pitiable, piteous (for ka-áwa-áwa`). Slightly divergent in meaning is karáka-ráka (§ 265,5). 402. In a different use ka- has the form kay- in some words; these formations express a remarkable degree of a quality; they are used impersonally (§ 76), as predicate (§ 247), occasionally as conjunctive attributes: kaálat kayálat what saltiness! (of water); kay-asùl what blueness! Katáyog nang púno-ng-niyòg na iyòn! How tall that cocoanut tree is! Kayuntì` nang ibinigày nya ng laruwàn sa ákin! How few toys he gave me! So: kay-dámot, ka-rámot, ka-rúnong, ka-itìm, kakínis, ka-láyo`, ka-muntì`, ka-pulà, ka-tabà`, kay-tipìd. (a) With reduplication of the root, this form refers to the quality in an explicit plurality of objects: kaiitèm what blackness! (of several things); Kalalamìg nang paà nang manga báta`! How cold the children's feet are! (b) With doubled root these forms intensify the quality: Kaydámot-dámot nang báta ng itò! What a terribly stingy child! (kaydámot, karámot what stinginess! ang dámot stinginess). 403. A few forms with accented ka- prefixed to the root envisage the accidental nature of the reciprocal relation: Ang manga damìt na itò ay kásiya sa baòl. These clothes will fit into the trunk. Akò ang kásundo` ni Pépe sa pagpapalarò` nang bèsbol sa manga báta`. I am at one with Pepe as to letting the children play baseball. Hábang akò y nagdádaàn, kátaon namà ng isinábuy nya ang túbig. He threw out the water at the very time, it happened, that I was passing by. ang kàtiwála` a confidential agent, manager, overseer. The words káluluwà and kápuwà`, which resemble this formation, seem to be felt as simple roots and have been so treated here. (2) Normal transients, abstracts, and special static forms. 404. k-um-a-. An active with -um- is made from ka-úsap as underlying word: Si Hwàn ay kumàkaúsap sa ákin. Juan was talking at me, haranguing me. 405. mag-ka- pag-ka-ka-. Actives with mag- and abstracts with pag- r from underlying words with ka- express a partial affection of the actor or of a group of actors; ka- here has its involuntary force: the actor is not a rational and voluntary agent. Nagkaroòn ako nang trabáho kanína ng umága, sapagkàt nagpasakày akò sa trèn nang manga kamátis nang tátay ko. I was kept busy this morning, for I attended to the shipping by train of my father's tomatoes. Nagkaroòn sya nang gálit. He harbored ill-feeling. Nagkagulò ang manga Amerikáno sa pagdatìng nang Dòytsland. The Americans were surprised at the coming of the "Deutschland". Nagkagustò sya ng kumáin nang súha`. He conceived a desire of eating grape-fruit. Nagkàkalípon ang manga langgàm sa púto. The ants are getting all over the cake. Akò y nagkamálay pagkaraàn nang ilà ng sandalì ng paghihimatày. I returned to consciousness after a few moments' fainting-spell. Nagkapálad si Hwàn na makaratìng díto ng maluwalháti`. Juan was fortunate enough to get back here safe and sound. Ang pakwàn ay nagkasíra`. The watermelon got partly spoiled. Ang manga ságing ay nagkasíra` sa kalaúnan nang pagkàtágo` sa lalagyàn. Some of the bananas got spoiled on account of the long time they were kept stored. Nása simbáhan. silà nang magkasúnog. They were at church when a fire occurred. Twi ng papasúkin ko sa kuràl ang manga kalabàw ay nagkákawalá silà. Every time I put the carabao into the corral, they get away. So: búkol, hinòg. 406. mag-ka- (1) pag-ka-ka- (1). Accent shift in this formation serves various uses: (a) It may be due to the root: Si Hwàn ay nagkasakìt noo ng bwà ng nagdaàn. Juan had a sickness last month. Si Hwàn ay hindí makapútol nang káhoy, sapagkàt mahínà pa sya dahilàn sa pagkakasakìt. Juan cannot cut wood, because he is still weak on account of his recent illness. (b) It expresses plurality: Magkákaputòl ang manga tubò. The sugar-cane will get broken in numbers. Nagkaputòl ang manga tubò sa lakàs nang hángin. The sugar-cane broke in quantity under the violence of the wind. Nagkákaputòl ang manga tubò sa kalakasàn nang hángin. Much sugar-cane is breaking under the force of the wind. So also from lúnod. (c) The form is really a simple active with mag- from an underlying word of the form ka- (1), § 398,c; three words of this kind occur: Sila y nagkagalìt. They quarreled. ang pagkakagalìt the quarrel. Ang Hapòn at ang Tsína ay nagkasirà`. Japan and China had a break. Silà y nagkatalò. They played a winning-and-losing game. Nagkatalu nà ang manga nagsúsugàl. The gamblers have lost and won, have finished their winning-and-losing game. In accordance with § 356, the underlying word is doubled with distributive plural meaning: Sila ng ápat ay nagkagá-kagalìt. The four of them all got angry at one another. Similarly, an explicit plural with mag-si-pag- is formed (cf. § 386,b): Nagsipagkasirá silà. They had a falling out. 407. (a) mag-ka- r pag-ka-ka- r. The reduplication of the root expresses repeated action in a form with retraction of accent and irregular insertion of ng after the prefix: Sya y nagkàkangdadápa`. He kept falling on his face. (b) mag-ka- D pag-ka-ka- D. Doubling of the root seems a more regular expression of the same value: nagkàkaumpòg-umpòg. 408. Special static words with mag-ka- are simply dual collectives with mag- (§ 358,a) from underlying words with ka- (§ 398): Ang banìg ni Hwàn at ni Pédro ay magkaánib (or: magkasánib) sa pagkàlátag. Juan's and Pedro's sleeping-mats overlap each other as they are spread. ang magkabaláe a pair of persons related by intermarriage of their children (more insistent on the relational element, but practically equal to magbaláe, § 358,a). Ang dalawa ng manòk ay magkabukòd nang kulungàn. The two chickens were in separate crates. Ang búkid ni Hwàn at ni Pédro ay magkarátig. Juan's field and Pedro's border on each other. Si Pédro at si Hwàn ay magkapantày. Pedro and Juan are of the same height. ang magkapatìd two brothers or sisters, a brother and a sister. ang magkapútol na si Andrès at si Rafayèl the brothers Andrés and Rafael. Magkapútol kamì ni Hwàn nang báro`. Juan and I have blouses made of the same cloth. dalawà ng bágay na gàgawi ng magkasunòd two things that are to be done one after the other. (a) From kababáyan (§ 398,d): dalawà ng estudyànte ng magkababáyan two students from the same town. 409. mag-ka-ka. As the explicit plural corresponding to these duals reduplicates the underlying word (§ 358,b), the syllable ka- is repeated in this meaning: ang magkakapatìd a group of three or more brothers and (or) sisters; in the same meaning ang magkakapútol. So also from: bukòd, sáma, súno`. (a) The form magkababáyan (§ 408,a) rejects the extra reduplication, and is therefore plural as well as dual: tatlo ng estudyànte ng magkababáyan three students from the same town. 410. mag-kà- pag-ka-kà-. The transient with mag- and abstract with pag- r from underlying words with kà- have the accidental value of the latter prefix, usually with a dual reciprocal meaning. Sa kabilà ng bandà mo ibwàl ang púno ng iyàn, sapagkàt kung irè ay ibuwal kò y baká magkádagan ang dalawa ng púno`. Fell your tree in the direction away from me, so that if I fell this one, the two trees won't fall one on top of the other. Magkàkàdagàn ang dalawa ng púno ng itò, kapag hindí mo ibinwàl sa kabilà ng bandà iya ng pinùpútol mo. These two trees will fall one on top of the other, if you don't make the one you are cutting down fall the other way. Nagkádagan ang dalawa ng báta` nang mahúlog sila sa hagdàn. The two children landed one on top of the other when they fell from the ladder. Ilabas mò sa búkid, Kulàs, ang dalawa ng sáko ng pálay na nagkàkàdagàn na nása bangàn. Nicolás, take out to the field the two bags of rice that are lying one on top of the other in the granary. Ang pagkakáiba nang ugáli ni Pédro at ni Hwàn ay gáya nang pagkakáiba nang túbig at nang apòy. The difference in character between Pedro and Juan is like the difference between water and fire. magkáhiwalày part from each other (by force of circumstances, of two people). Ang ikinahátì nang palayòk ay ang masamà ng pagkakálagay nitò. What caused the rice-pot to break was the bad way it was placed. magkàmáyaw harmonize. ang pagkakásabày the happening at the same time of two events. Sya y nagkàsála. He sinned (against the moral order, God, etc.) Ang pagkakàsála kay Bathála` ay pinarùrusáhan sa infiyèrno. Sinning against God is punished in hell. Bìbilhin kò ang kabáyo ng iyòn, kung magkàkàsya ang áki ng kwaltà. I shall buy this horse, if my money is sufficient. Walá sila ng pagkakásundò`. The two don't agree on anything. ang pagkakátaòn the coincidence in time of one event with another, of two events. ang pagkakátayò` the standing up together (even of more than two people). (a) Somewhat different are kung magkàbihíra` at odd times; kung magkágayòn when things turn out thus, when this is the state of affairs. So also, with static value: Ang magkábila ng dúlo nang lápis ay matúlis. Both ends of the pencil are sharpened. 411. mag-kà- D pag-ka-kà- D. With doubled root plurality is expressed: Nagkàhiwá-hiwalày ang manga dáhun nang librò. The leaves of the book came apart. Ang manga ginágawá nya ng pangísip nang manga makabuluhà ng fétsa nang istòriya ay ang pagkakàsunòd-sunòd at pagítan nilà. He remembers the important dates of history by their sequence and their intervals. (a) With accent shift, from a barytone root: Nagkàputol-putòl ang katawàn nang táo ng nàsagasáan nang trèn. The body of the man who was run over by the train got all mangled. Nagkàkàputol-putòl ang katawàn nang bála ng táo ng màsagasáan nang trèn. The body of a person run over by a train is cut to pieces. Magkàkàputol-putòl ang túbo ng kristàl na iyàn kapag iyo ng ibinagsàk. If you drop that glass tube, it will break into a thousand pieces. 412. ka- (1) -in, k-in-a-. The simple direct passive is formed from an underlying derived word with ka- with normal meaning. So from ka-lában, ka-úsap. (a) A special static word corresponding to those in § 366 is ang kinákapatìd the child of one's godparents (from ka-patìd). From it are derived the dual collective (§ 358,a) magkinákapatìd a pair of such, and the plural (§ 358,b) magkikinákapatìd three or more, as a group. 413. i-ka- i-k-in-a-. The instrumental passive with prefix ka- has a specialized meaning: it expresses transiently, an inanimate, or at least irrational and involuntary, object or circumstance which causes such and such an action: and this latter action is in turn also involuntary or out of control of the actor (as, for instance, the ability to do a thing), see § 432 ff. Ang kawalàn ni Andrès nang hánap-búhay sa báya ng itò ay sya nyà ng ikinaalìs. Andrés' inability to make a living in this town is what forced him to leave. Ang malì ng anyò nang pulúbe ay siyà ng ikinaáwa` sa kanya ni Hwàn. The bad condition of the beggar was what made Juan pity him. Ang pagsasakày nang kutséro nang manga táo ng may sakìt na nakàhàháwa ay sya ng ikinabáwì nang kanya ng pahintúlot. The driver's taking people with contagious diseases into his carriage was what caused his license to be withdrawn. Ang ikinahárang nang mangà naglálakàd ay ang pagkáalam nang manga tulisàn na silà y may dalà ng kwaltà. What caused the wayfarers to be held up was the robbers' happening to know that they had money with them. Ikinaháte ni Hwàn sa búnga ang kanya ng laséta. Juan's knife enabled him to cut the betel fruit. Ang pagkasála nya sa singsìng ay ang hindí niya ikinakúha nang ganti ng pála`. His missing the ring is what kept him from winning the prize. Yòn ay áki ng ikinalúlungkòt. I am sorry, I am sorry to hear that. Ang pangungublì nang manga sundálo ay sya nilà ng hindí ikinamatày. The soldiers' keeping in hiding is what saved their lives. Ikinapútol nang yantòk na pamálo` ang pagkàpálu kay Hwàn. The caning Juan got broke the rattan that was used on him. Ikinapùpútol nang marámi ng tubò ang malakàs na hángin. The strong wind is making much sugar-cane break. Ikapùpútol nang manga sangà nang káhoy ang malakàs na hángi ng itò. This strong wind will cause many branches of trees to break off. Ikapùpútol nya sa manga kawáyan ang paggúlang nitò. The aging of the bamboo plants will force him to cut them down. Ang pagkalúnod nang Kastíla` ay ikinatákot nang tatlò ng magkakaybígan. The drowning of the Spaniard frightened the three friends. Ang kanyà ng pagmamasìd sa manga tála` sa gabì ay sya nyà ng malakì ng ikinatútuwà`. His observation of the stars at night is his great source of pleasure. Similarly, from: bingì, búhay, búti, gálit, hángo`, húlog, káya, lípat, lúgi, túlong, walà`. 414. i-pag-ka- i-p-in-ag-ka. With pag- this instrumental passive corresponds to the active with magka- (§ 405). The reduplication of the durative forms affects the ka-. Ang ipinagkagusto nyà ng kumáin nang sorbétes ay ang kainítan. It is the heat which makes him want to eat ices. Ipagkákamatày nang manga manòk ang masamà ng túbig. The bad water will make the chickens die. Ang kalamigàn sa tagulàn ay sya ng ipinagkàkamuò nang túbig sa ílog. The cold weather in winter is what makes the water in the river congeal. Baká ipagkawalá nang manga manòk sa kulungàn ang pagpapapások mo doòn niyà ng áso. See that your putting that dog into the enclosure doesn't make the chickens try to get away. Ipagkákawalà nang bíhag ang pagkàbalíta` sa kanyà nang parúsa ng kàkamtan nyà. The captive's being told of the punishment he will get, will make him try to escape. Ipinagkawalá nya sa kùlúngan ang pagpapahírap sa kanyà. Their torturing him made him escape from his confinement. Ipinagkákawalà nya sa bìlanggúan ang masamà ng pagpapakáin sa kanya díto. The bad food they gave him in the jail made him try to escape. 415. Similarly, with accent shift this passive corresponds to the active with mag-ka- (1), § 406,b. Ipinagkàkabalè` (or: ipinagkàkaputòl) nang manga sangà nang káhoy ang bagyò ng itò. This hurricane is breaking off many branches of trees. Nang ipagkaputòl nang áki ng manga tubò ang hángin ay nalungkùt akò. When the wind broke down my sugar-cane I was dismayed. Ipinagkaputòl nang manga tubò ang malakàs na hángi ng nagdaàn. The recent strong wind broke down much sugar-cane. Similarly: ipinagkasakìt (sákit). 416. Special static forms with i-ka- are made from the numerals, with occasional contraction, forming ordinals and fractions: ikaánim ikánim the sixth; ikaápat ikápat the fourth, a fourth, a quarter; ikalawà the second; ikalimà the fifth; ikapitò the seventh; ikatlò the third. Cf. § 347,a. (a) The ordinal corresponding to isà one is however the independent root úna first; half is kalaháte`, § 519. (b) From phrases, of course, the higher numbers: ikaisa-ng-daàn hundredth; ikaisa-ng-laksà` millionth; ikaisa-ng-líbo thousandth; ikasa-m-pù` tenth; ikalabi-ng-isà eleventh; ikadalawa-ng-pù` twentieth; ikadalawa-ng-pù-t-isà twenty-first. 417. i-kà- i-k-in-à-. The instrumental passive from the root with accented kà- differs from that with unaccented ka- (§ 413) in that the action or occurrence caused is not only involuntary but accidental and entirely out of the control of the actor (see § 458 ff.). Ang ikinàgùgusto kò sa kayibígan ko ng si Hwàn ay ang kanya ng mabaìt na ugáli`. What makes me have a liking for my friend Juan is his lovable character. Ang ginawá nya ng paggugupìt sa manga retáso ng itinàtágo nang kanya ng nánay ay sya nyà ng ikinàpálo`. His cutting up the patches his mother was saving is what made it necessary to thrash him. Ang ikinásakay nyà sa kabáyo ng bara-barà ay ang kawalàn nya nang iba ng kabáyo. What made him get on the wild horse was his lack of other horses. Ikinátahol nang áso ang pagkádapá ni Hwan. Juan's falling down made the dog bark. So also from: iyàk, pátag. (a) Accent shift is due to the root: Ang pagkátahol nang áso ay sya ng ikinágising nang natùtúlug na báta`. The barking of the dog was what made the sleeping child wake up. Ikàtàtawa nyà ang iyo ng sàsabíhin. He won't be able to keep from laughing when you say that. Ikinàtàtawà ni Hwàn ang sinábi ni Pédro. What Pedro said makes Juan laugh in spite of himself. 418. Corresponding to primary actives with mag- contrasted with -um-, and with mang-, we should expect pag- and pang- to be retained before the root in these formations; the only example is: ikinápagtirà, corresponding to magtirà, in contrast with tumirà (§§ 348. 351). 419. ka- (1) -an, k-in-a- (1) -an. The local passive with ka- is used when the action is an involuntary one, especially an emotion, of a rational actor, or when the actor is inanimate or irrational. Ang hulihàn nang manga kinagalítan ni Patúpat ay idináos nang manga gwàrdiya-sibìl kagabè. The arrest of the people who have incurred Patupat's anger was carried out by the gendarmes last night. Kahiyaàn mò ang táo ng matandà`. Reverence the aged. ang kinahulúgan nang báta` the place from which the child fell. Ang bintána ng iyàn ang syà ng kahùhulúgan nang báta`, pag hindí mo isinarà. The child will fall out of that window, if you don't shut it. Baká ninyo kalunúran ang ílog, manga báta`. See that you don't get drowned in that river, children. Ang kanya ng kalùlunúran ay ang ílog na itò. He will get drowned in this river some day. ang báhay na kinamatayàn the house where someone died, ang báhay nang kinamatayàn the house in which someone died, the house of the bereaved family. Kinapatiràn nang lúbid ang lugàr na malápit sa dúlo-ng-bandà-ng-kaliwà`. The rope broke at a point near the left-hand end. Ang kapàpatiràn nang sinúlid ay malápit sa buhòl. The place where the thread will break is near the knot there. Kinatakútan nya ang báhay na pinagpatayàn sa kúra`. He was afraid of the house where the priest was killed. Ang kinatàtakútan nang manga báta` ay ang núno`. The children are afraid of the ghost. Katakútan ninyò ang núno`. You had better be afraid of ghosts. Kinatamaràn ni Hwàn ang kanyà ng pagaáral. Juan became neglectful about his studying. Nang katamaràn ni Hwàn ang kanya ng pagaáral ay malápit na syà ng makatápos nang karéra. When Juan became lazy about his studies, he was already near the end of his course. Katàtamaran nyà ang kanyà ng pagaáral, pag binigyàn mo syà nang marámi ng salapè`. He will be lazy about his studies, if you give him too much money. Similarly from: buwísit, íwan, kíta, walà`. (a) With shifted root: Isa ng pulúbe ang kinaàawaàn ni Hwàn. It was a beggar who aroused Juan's pity. 420. pag-ka- (1) -an, p-in-ag-ka- (1) -an; pag-ka- (2) -an, p-in-ag-ka- (2) -an. Local passives with pag- before the ka- involve a plurality of actors. The durative reduplication affects the ka-; barytone roots have an extra accent-shift. Ang kináin nang usà ay malakì ng pinagkàkagustuhàn nang manga Ilóko. The Iloco are very fond of the contents of deers' stomachs. Pinagkàkalipumpunàn nang manga langgàm ang púto. The ants are swarming all over the cake. Ang pinagkamatayàn nang manga kambèng ay ang lugàr na itò. This is the place where the goats perished. Hwag mò ng dalhìn sa bundòk ang manga manòk, sapagkàt iyò y kanilà ng pagkàkamatayàn. Don't take the chickens into the hills, for they would die there. Barytone roots: Pinagkatakutàn nilà ang báhay na pinagpatayàn sa kúra`. They were afraid of the house where the priest was killed. Pinagkàkatakutàn nilà ang manga mababagsìk na háyop. They are afraid of wild animals. Hwag mò ng ipamalíta` ang nàkíta nátin díto, sapagkàt baká ang lugàr na itò y pagkatakutàn. Don't tell what we have seen here, for this place would be feared. Pagkàkatakutàn nilà ang lugàr na itò, pag nàláman nilà ang nangyári ng paghaharangàn díto. They will be afraid of this place when they know of the hold-ups that occurred here. ang pinagkatalunàn that which was the occasion of winning by many (tálo). 421. ka- S -an. Special static words, corresponding to those with S -an (§ 377) are formed with prefix ka- from oxytone roots; in meaning they are collectives and abstracts of quality: ang kasàyáhan gladness; Ang katàmáran ni Patrísiyo ay katutúbo` sa kanya ng láhi`. Patricio's laziness is inborn in his family. So from the roots: baìt, banàl, damdàm, dangàl, duwàg, lagày, lungkòt, luwàng, mahàl, malì`, matày, pintàs, sangkàp, tungkòl, tuwà`, tuwìd. Divergent in meaning is ang Kapampángan a Pampanga, if from pangpàng. The secondary accent is lacking, irregularly, in kalayáan (layà`); with contraction in kayilángan, kaylángan (beside kailángan, from ilàng). (a) This latter word underlies an active with mang-, an abstract with pang- r, and a simple direct passive: nangàngayilángan requires; ang pangangayilángan need, necessity; Kàkayilangáni ng magdaàn si Pédro ríto bágu sya umalìs. Pedro will have to come here before he leaves. (b) From a derived word, with the secondary accent irregularly placed: Boo ng báyan ay nagdíwang sa kapangànákan ni Risàl. The whole country celebrated Rizal's birthday; also: ang áraw nang kapangànákan birthday,--from panganàk (§ 347). 422. ka- (2) -an. Barytone roots have, in the same sense, an accent shift of two syllables, corresponding to § 379. Boò ng kabahayàn ang nàkíta námin sa gitnà nang daàn. We saw a whole set of household goods in the middle of the road; also: ang kabahayàn a house containing several dwellings. Marámi sa manga táo ang nakàkìkilála nang kanila ng karapatàn, dátapuwat nakalìlímot nang kanila ng katungkúlan. Many are the people who know their rights but forget their duties. Ang karamútan nang páre` ay nagìng kasabihàn. The stinginess of the priest is proverbial. Ang katakutàn sa Dyòs ay isa ng kabàítan. Fear of the Lord is a virtue. Ang pagbibigày nang sigarìlyo ay isa sa manga matatandà ng kaugaliàn sa Filipínas. Giving cigarettes is one of the old customs in the Philippines. ang kawikaàn a proverb. So from abála, áraw, búlo, gámit, húlog, íbig, lángit, payápa`, síra`, tápos, útos. With contraction: kahariyàn, kaharyàn (hári`), and, if from táo, katawàn body. (a) From the latter word there is an abstract of action, with pang- r: ang pangangatawàn physique (cf. pananamìt, etc., § 357). 423. ka- (1) -an. Corresponding to the formation (1) -an (§ 378), the collective-abstracts of this type with ka- have formal irregularities and, where there is any contrast (e. g. mahàl), less explicit and more specialized meaning than the preceding two groups. ang kaalátan saltiness (of water). Sa gabì ng itò ang kabilúgan nang buwàn. The fullness of the moon is tonight. Ang kadalamhatían ay isa ng damdámi ng hindí nàràrápat sa táo. Grief is an emotion not becoming to a man or woman. ang karunúngan wisdom. ang kahangalàn foolishness (ang hangàl a fool). ang kaibhàn the difference. ang kalinísan cleanness, cleanliness. ang kamatsingàn monkey-tricks, naughtiness. ang kamuráhan cheapness. Sawì` ang kanya ng kapaláran. His luck is bad. Sa kapanayàn nang ulàn kung tagulàn ay hindí masiglà ang báyan. The town is not cheerful during the unabated rains of the rainy season. Ang manga táo y marámi ng kasalánan. People have many sins. ang kasamaàn badness. kasawiàn poor position, awkwardness. kasinungalíngan falsehood, a lie. kasipágan diligence. Ang desgrásya ng nangyári kay Hwàn ay isa ng hampàs nang katalagahàn. The misfortune which has come to Juan is a blow of fate. Ang kanila ng pagílag ay hindí katapángan. Their fleeing was not a brave act. ang boò ng kataúhan all mankind. ang katipúnan a meeting, Katipúnan a secret society organized against the Spaniards; a member of this. kayabángan pride. So from: bába`, bábaw, bigàt, buhángin, búhay, búti, dalàs, dámi, dámot, dániw (if karaniyúwan is so to be analyzed), dilìm, ginháwa, gúbat, hába`, hína`, hírap, iklì`, ínit, lakàs, lakì, lamìg, lápad, láon, liìt, lóko, lúnod, lupìt, mahàl, mangmàng, párang, fiyèsta, pulò`, sakìm, salàt, salbáhi, salúkoy, taàs, Tagálog, tahímik, tákaw, tákot, talíno, tampalásan, tangháli`, túlin, túnay, totoò, ulòl, walà`, yáman. (a) From a phrase: Iyò y kawala-ng-hyaàn ni Pédro. That was a shameless action of Pedro's (walà ng hiyà`). (b) From derived words: ang Kakapampangánan the Pampanga country (Kapampángan, § 421). ang boò ng kamaganákan nina Krùs, Bantòg, at iba pà the whole relationship of the Cruz's, Bantogs, and so on; ang boò ng kamaganákan ni Pédro Vyóla the whole family of Pedro Viola (magának, § 358,a). ang kapangyaríhan power (-pangyári, as though by § 347). 424. ka- r (1) -an, ka- r (2) -an. With reduplication of the root and accent shift of one syllable for an oxytone root, of two in barytone roots, ka- and -an form special static words denoting something surprising or provocative of such and such an emotion. Itù y kagagawàn ni Hwàn! This is some of Juan's work! cf. Itù y gawá ni Hwàn. Juan did this, made this. Ang pagkáupo ni Pédro sa sùgálan ay kagagawàn nang isa nyà ng kaybígan. Pedro's sitting at the gaming-table was the work of one of his fine friends. Ang pàtáya ng nangyári kagabì ay kagagawàn ni Pédro. The killing which occurred last night was some of Pedro's doing. So: katuturàn a correct outcome (tuwìd). Barytone roots: Ang katatakutàn nang báta` ay ang núno`. The thing that arouses the child's fear is a ghost. Ang kanya ng katatawanàn ay ang unggò`. His source of laughter is the monkey. ang salità ng katatawanàn a jest-word, a funny expression. 425. With secondary accent on the first syllable of the underlying word, ka- and -an form also words denoting one of two reciprocal actors. This is the form for oxytone roots, ang kabìgáyan a person with whom one exchanges gifts. Si Hwána ay siya ng kabùlúngan ni Maryà. Juana is the one Maria whispers with. ang kahampásan one of two who perform mutual flagellation, kahìráman one of two who borrow from each other. kaìnúman person one drinks with. kakàlabítan one of two who touch each other. Ang kapàtáyan ni Hwàn ay si Pédro. Juan is engaged in a mortal conflict with Pedro. Ang kapàtíran ni Hwána nang sinúlid ay ang kanya ng kaybíga ng si Maryà. Juana cuts thread with her friend Maria. ang kasàlitáan the person with whom one converses. Si Hwàn ay kaùlúlan ni Pédro. Juan and Pedro fool each other. ang kaùpúan one of two who sit together. 426. Barytone roots add accent shift of one syllable. Ang kahùlúgan nya nang súha` ay ang kanyà ng kapatìd. The one with whom he takes turns at dropping down grape-fruit from the tree is his brother. ang kahùníhan one of two birds that chirp at each other. ang kaìbígan one of two who love each other. ang kakàínan one of two who eat together. Si Hwána ay siya ng kapùtúlan ni Maryà nang kukò. Juana and Maria cut each other's fingernails. ang kasùlátan one's correspondent. ang katàlúnan one's opponent in a dispute. (a) The shift is due to the root in: Si Maryà ay syà ng kaàbútan ni Hwána nang manga mabangù ng bulaklàk. Maria and Juana hand each other fragrant flowers (as in some ceremony or game). (b) With contraction and lack of secondary accent: ang kayibígan, kaybígan a friend (contrast kaìbígan above). (c) In a few instances barytone roots have accent shift of two syllables without secondary accent. Si Maryáno ay kahatakàn ni Kulàs nang lúbid. Mariano is pulling at the rope against Nicolás. ang kamurahàn one of two who curse at each other (with meaning ordinarily peculiar to the shifted root, § 337). Sumúlong at Kasamahàn Sumulong and Company. kasulatàn one's correspondent (equal to kasùlátan, above). Ang katuruàn ni Pédro ay ang báta ng si Hwàn. Pedro and little Juan are pointing at each other. 427. These formations serve as underlying words of a few derivatives: (a) Active with mag- and abstract with pag- r (§ 352): ang pagkakayibígan the joining in friendship of two people. (b) Secondary active with maki- from the preceding: makipagkayibígan win one's way into someone's friendship, become friends with someone. (c) Dual collective with mag- (§ 358,a): Si Pédro at si Hwàn ay magkahìráman nang sambalílo at sandàlyas. Pedro and Juan lend each other hats and sandals. magkaìbígan a pair of lovers. magkaybígan a pair of friends. (d) Where the dual value of the underlying form is weak, explicit plurals of the preceding with mag- r (§ 358,b) occur: ang magkakaybígan a group of three or more friends. ang magkakasamahà ng si Pédro, si Hwàn, at si Andrès the party consisting of Pedro, Juan, and Andrés. ang magkakasamahà ng sina Pédro the party of Pedro and his followers. Ang magkakasamahà ng nagsipagpasyàl ay sina Maryà, Hwána, Pédro, at Kulàs. The party that went for a walk consisted of Maria, Juana, Pedro, and Nicolás. Ang magkakasamahà ng napasa húlo` at napaluwásan ay sinà Mariyáno, Pépe, at Kulàs at sina Pédro, Húlyo, at Andrès. The groups that went upstream and downstream were, respectively, Mariano, Pepe, and Nicolás and Pedro, Julio, and Andrès. Ang tatlo ng manòk na ytò y magkakasamahà ng inihatid díto, ang ibà y magkakabukòd. These three chickens were brought here together, the others each by itself. 428. kà- (1) -an, k-in-à- (1) -an. Local passives with kà- denote the place where someone or something happens to be. Hwag kà ng kumibò` sa iyò ng kinàdòroonàn. Don't stir from the spot (where you happen to be). Sa alì ng bandà ang kinàdòroonàn nang báya-ng-Kamálig?--Sa bandà ng kaliwà`. In which direction is the town of Camalig?--Toward the left. Ang báya-ng-Balíwag ay ang kinàmahalà ng úna ng úna nang pálay. The town of Baliuag was the first place where rice got dear. Ang kàpàpatayàn sa táo ng iyàn ay ang bigtíhan. This man will end on the gallows. Ang báya-ng-Balíwag ang iyu ng kàtùtungúhan pag tinuntùn mo ang landàs na iyàn. You will get to the town of Baliuag if you follow that path. Similarly from: bíngit, búrol, kulòng, lagày, tágo`, tayò`, tirà, upò`. Divergent in meaning are kinàbukásan (§ 260) and, from a phrase, kinàháti-ng-gabihàn (§ 260, háti ng gabì). 429. pag-kà- (1) -an, p-in-ag-kà- (1) -an. Local passives of this type with pag- reduplicate the kà-; they refer to other local passive relations than place in which; so: pagkàkilanlàn be the occasion of showing something; pagkàsyahàn be the container of something that fits in; pagkàsunduwàn, pagkàsunduàn be agreed upon. 430. Special static words with kà- and -an are few and differ in meaning. (a) Ang kàgalítan nila Andrès, Hwàn, at Mariyáno ay napáwì na. The quarrel between Andrés, Juan, and Mariano has been appeased; this is no doubt merely a plural with S -an (§ 377,a) from the underlying word kagalìt (§ 398,c). It forms the underlying word of a simple active with mag- and abstract with pag- r: ang pagkakàgalítan a quarrel (of two or more people). (b) Si Pédro ay kàibígan ni Maryà. Pedro is liked by Maria. Sina Pédro, Kulàs, at Hwàn ay sya ng manga kàibígan ni Mariyáno. Pedro, Nicolàs, and Juan are the ones whom Mariano likes. This is probably a real special static word corresponding to the transient with kà- (1) -an (§ 428). Derived active with mag-: Nagkàkàibígan si Pédro at si Hwána. Pedro and Juana are in love with each other, have come to like each other. (c) Ang kàtwáan ay náhintò` sa pagdatìng nang isa ng magnanákaw. The rejoicing was stopped by the coming of a robber. This is, in form at least, a plural with S -an from an underlying -katuwà`, which is not known. Derived active with mag-: magkàtwáan rejoice together, be merry together. The same form is seen in kàlingkíngan; little finger, fifth finger; if this is from a root -lingkìng. 431. ka- (1) D -an. With doubling of the root and radical accent shift: Kàunà-unáha ng dumatìng si Hwàn. Juan got there the very first. So: kàhulì-hulíhan the very last. (3) Additional transients, abstracts, and special static forms. 432. The prefix ka- in its involuntary meaning and the prefix kà- in its accidental meaning appear in an additional set of transients and abstracts with maka-, makà- prefixed for the active, ma-, mà- for the passives, and pagka-, pagkà- for the abstract. The meanings of these forms are most varied; especially in the direct passive, where the involuntary or accidental character of the actor sometimes reaches the point where an actor is entirely left out of view or lacking, and the passive borders closely on active meaning. For this reason it will be convenient to divide the uses into a number of somewhat arbitrarily defined groups. The forms are as follows: 433. The active forms with ka- are: maka-, maka- R, naka-, naka- R; abstract pagka-. The active expresses an inanimate object or circumstance causing an emotion or feeling; the meaning, then, is the same as in the forms with i-ka- (§ 413), except that here the thing causing the emotion is viewed as an actor. Nakabùbúlag ang ílaw. The light is blinding. Ang gamòt na itò ang nakaginháwa sa máy sakìt. This medicine is what relieved the patient. Itò y makapàpáwì nang gútom (úhaw, ginàw, ínit, págod). This will relieve the hunger (thirst, cold feeling, hot feeling, fatigue). Ang áwit nang manga íbon ay nakatútuwà`. The song of the birds is gladdening. Similarly from: bigàt, bingì, búti, lasìng, ligáya, síra`, tákot. 434. The active expresses, further, an inanimate object which has got (in the past) into such and such a condition or position. Ang bangkà` ay nakaáyon sa ágos. The canoe is righted with the stream. Ang pagkáin ay nakahandá nà. Dinner is served. Nakasábit sa páko` ang áki ng amerikána. My coat is hanging on the nail. Nakasigàng ang palayùk nang sináing. The rice-pot is on the fire. Hindí ko bìbilhìn ang kabáyo ng iyòn, káhit na makasísiya ang áki ng kwaltà. I would not buy this horse, even if my money should be sufficient. Similarly: daàn, lawìt, táli`, túlong. 435. Very similar is the use of the active to describe an animate actor in such and such a position (into which he has got): Nakadapà` ang manga táo sa kanila ng báhay hábang lumílindòl. The people lay prone in their houses during the earthquake. Si Pédro ay nakaháwak sa taburéte nang sya y retratúhan. Pedro had hold of a chair when he was photographed. Nakasakày ang báta ng si Hwàn sa áso nang sya y màkíta ko sa bakúran. Little Juan was mounted (i. e. riding) on the dog when I saw him in the yard. Nakatayó si Pédro nang ákin sya ng màkíta. Pedro was standing up when I saw him. Nakaupó sya sa bangkò`. He was seated on the bench. So from: abàng, hiléra, íkid, kápit, luhòd, pangàw, talungkò`, tindìg. 436. The active may denote an animate actor who is able, succeeds in doing so and so; the involuntary element inheres in the matter of ability, which is not dependent on the actor's will: Sa gana ng ákin sya y makaáalìs. So far as I am concerned, he may go. Sa tigàs nang kanya ng loòb ay walà ng makabále`. There is no one (or, under the type in § 433, nothing) can break the firmness of his will. Nakagágawà` ang alílà nang páyong. The servant is able to make umbrellas. Nakagupìt sya nang makapàl na damìt. He succeeded in cutting thick cloth. Si Pédro ay hindí makaháwak nang palakòl, sapagkàt masakìt ang kanya ng kamày. Pedro cannot hold an ax, because his hand is sore. Naàári ng sya y makahigà`. He may lie down. Hindí ako makahingí nang kwaltà kay Hwàn. I cannot (bring myself to) ask Juan for money. Nakahúlog sya nang isa ng nyòg sa kanya ng pagpukòl sa kumpòl. He succeeded in bringing down a cocoanut, in his throwing at the cluster. Ang báta` ay hindí makakáin, sapagkàt kumáin sya nang marámi ng kakanìn. The child can't eat because he has eaten so many sweets. Si Pédro ay hindí nakapùpútol nang káhoy, sapagkàt bágu ng gáling sya sa sakìt. Pedro cannot cut any wood, for he has just recovered from sickness. Sa tantyà raw nyà ay makapùpútol na sya nang káhoy, sapagkàt sya y malakas nà. He reckons he will be able to cut wood, for he is strong again. Nakasásakay syà sa kabáyo. He is able to mount the horse. Ang báta y nakasùsúlat nà. The child is already able to write. Hindí ako makasúlat. I can't write. Ang máy sakit ay nakatátayú nà. The patient is already able to stand up. Hindí ako nakatípon nang manga dáhon, sapagkàt walá ako ng kalaykày. I was not able to pile up the leaves, because I had no rake. Ang húle ng isdá ni Hwàn ay nakawalà`. The fish Juan caught got away. Similarly from: akiyàt, balìk, báyad, dalà, datìng, kílos, kúha, lákad, pások, sagòt, sigàw, suwày, tahòl, takbò, tirà, úbos, úsap. Abstracts: Ang mákina ay syà ng dahilàn nang pagkagawá ni Pédro nang páyong. The machine is the cause of Pedro's ability to make umbrellas. Ang pagkasakáy nyà sa kabáyo ng bara-barà ay hindí dahilàn sa kanya ng tápang, dátapuwat dahilàn sa marámi ng iba ng táo ng nagsipígil sa kabáyo. His ability to get on the wild horse was not due to his courage, but to the many other people who controlled the horse. Ang kanya ng pagkatípon sa manga kalabàw ay nanyári dáhil sa marámi ng túlong. His success in rounding up the carabao was due to much aid. 437. Closely bordering on the preceding type is the active, mostly with the particle nà, expressing the actor of a completed action. Nakaalìs na siyà. He has already (succeeded in going, i. e.) gone away. Nakapútul nà si Pédro nang káhoy. Pedro has now finished cutting wood. Si Pédro ay nakapútul nà nang káhoy, bágo ko ng inutúsa ng mangigìb. Pedro had already cut the wood, before I asked him to fetch water. Similarly from: bútas, datìng, kúha, límot, tápos. The abstract lends itself especially to the use as absolute attribute (§ 274): Pagkagawá nya nang bákod ay naglasìng siyà. When he had finished making the fence, he got drunk. Pagkahárang nang manga tulisàn sa koréyo ay nagsitúngo silà sa bundòk. When the bandits had robbed the mail, they took to the hills. Pagkaháte ni Hwàn nang manga mansánas ay umalìs sya. When Juan had distributed the apples, he went away. Pagkahúli nang pulìs sa magnanákaw ay dinala nyà itò sa bìlanggúan. When the policeman had caught the thief, he took him to the jail. Pagkapatày nya sa táo ng kanyà ng hinárang ay tumakbo syà. When he had killed the man he had held up, he ran away. Pagkapútol ni Hwàn nang tahìd nang kátyaw ay nagdudugò` ang paà nitò. When Juan had cut the spur of the rooster, its foot kept bleeding. Pagkasakày sa kabáyo ay naparoòn akò sa hàlamanàn at pumitàs ako nang isa ng pakwàn úpang áki ng kánin. When I had had my horseback ride, I went to the garden and picked a melon to eat. Pagkasakày ni Hwàn sa trèn ay lumákad ito ng agàd. When Juan had got on the train, it soon started to move. Ang pagkasúnog nang báyan ay ikinalungkòt nang marámi. The people grieved at their town having burned down. Pagkatanàw nang unggò` sa pagòng ay nagbalik syà sa púno-ng-ságing. When the monkey had looked at the turtle, he went back to the banana tree. Pagkatáwag nang pagòng sa unggò` ay sumunòd itò agàd. When the turtle had called the monkey, the latter came at once. Pagkatayó nya sa kanya ng ùpúan ay minulàn nya agàd ang pagtatalumpáte`. When he had stood up from his seat he at once began making his speech. Pagkatípon mo nang manga bayábas ay umuwí ka. When you have piled up the guavas, go home. Pagkaúna nya sa takbúhan ay naghintú sya. When he had got ahead in the running, he stopped. Similarly from: alìs, bendisiyòn, gupìt, hápon, ísip, káin, kúha, lagòk, lúto`, mísa, sábi, sánay, tápos, típon, tupàd. 438. The forms of the direct passive are: ma-, ma- R; na-; na- R. The direct passive may correspond regularly to the active in § 436, and denote the object directly affected by an action which an actor is able to perform. Hindí nya mabásag ang bóte. He did not succeed in breaking the bottle. Sa kalakasàn ni Páblo ay nadala nyà ang kabà ng bákal. Pablo, with his strength, managed to lift the iron chest. Nadalà nang báta` ang káhoy. The boy managed to carry the wood. Hindí madalà ni Pédro ang kahòn sa kabigatàn. Pedro cannot lift the box; it is too heavy. Hindí ku magámit ang páyong na itò. I can't use this umbrella. Hindí nakáin nang báta` ang matigàs na tinápay na iyàn. The child was not able to eat that hard bread of yours. Nakáya ko ng buhátin ang isà ng maliìt na púno-ng-káhoy. I managed to lift one small tree. Nakàkáya ko ang pagaáral nang Ingglès. I manage to get along with the study of English. Nakáyas ni Pédro ang báo. Pedro managed to smooth the cocoanut shell. Nalákad námin ang lahàt nang daàn. We managed to walk the whole way. Nalìlípon nang manga langgàm ang kanila ng pagkáin. The ants succeed in amassing their food. Hindí ko mapatày ang báta ng itò. I cannot (get myself to) kill this child. Hindí ko mapútol nang kamày ang bákal na itò. I can't break this iron with my hand. Mapùpútol daw nyà ng wala ng túlong ang lahàt nang kawáya ng magúlang. He says he will be able to cut all the old bamboo without any help. Hindí nya masíra` ang kandáro nang pintò`, káhit na iniyúbus nya ang kanya ng lakàs. He did not succeed in breaking the lock of the door, although he used up all his strength. Natátalastàs mo bà ang sinàsábi ko sa iyò? Do you understand what I am saying to you? Similarly: ágaw, akiyàt, alaála, ampàt, gawà`, hángo`, híla. 439. Similarly, the direct passive may correspond regularly to the active of the type in § 437 and denote an object directly affected by an action which has been (successfully) completed by an actor. Naáso ko nà sa boo ng báyan ang báta`. I have hunted and called the child all over town. Nabálot ko nà ang manga librò. I have already wrapped up the books. Nabása ku nà ang diyáriyo. I have finished reading the paper. Nahampàs ko nà ang báta`. I have already whipped the child. Nahánap na nyà ang librò. He has already looked for the book. Napatày ku nà ang manòk. I have already killed the chicken. Kapag napùpútol na nyà ang púno-ng-káhoy ay saká mo hatákin ang lúbid na nakatáli sa sangà nitò. When he is getting the tree cut, then do you pull at the rope that is tied to the branch. Natipìd nya ang pagkáin nang kánin. He has been saving of the rice. Natípon ko nà ang manga dáhon. I have already heaped up the leaves. Natísod ku nà ang bakyà`. I have kicked off the sandal. Naúnat ku nà ang baluktòt na káwad na ibinigày mu sa ákin. I have straightened the bent wire you gave me. Nausísà ku nà si Hwàn. I have already questioned Juan. Similarly from: ágaw, gawà`, ípon, íwan, líbot, sákop, siyásat. 440. We come now to direct passives which do not correspond regularly to any active; these have their own abstracts with pagka-. The commonest type expresses an object which undergoes or has undergone a process due to an inanimate actor or to no actor in particular; it differs from the simple direct passive in the involuntary and often perfectic nature of the action. Nabále` ang sangà nang káhoy. The branch of the tree is broken. Ang túlis nang lápis ay nabále`. The point of the pencil is broken. Hwag mò ng ilagay dyàn ang palatòn, sapagkàt baká mabásag. Don't put the plate there, for it might get broken. Ang kanila ng kàínan ay nagambála sa pagdatìng nang manga pulìs. Their dinner-party broke up when the police arrived. Ang boo ng báyan ay nagulò. The whole town became riotous. Naháte` ang mansánas. The apple is in halves. Nalagòt ang lúbid. The rope broke. Ang kanya ng dalíri` ay napáso`. His finger is blistered. Napatìd ang lúbid. The rope broke. Ang batò ng hasaàn ay napiráso. The whetstone went to pieces. Napitas nà ang manga bulaklàk. The flowers have been picked. Napùpútol ang manga sangà nang káhoy sa lakàs nang hángin. The branches of the trees are being broken off by the force of the wind. Napútol nà ang káhoy. The tree has been cut down. Napútol ang dúlo nang káhoy. The end of the log is cut off. Napútol ang sangà nang káhoy. The branch of the tree broke off. Nasáyang ang trabáho ni Hwàn. Juan's work went for naught. Ang búkid ay nasíra`. The field is waste. Similarly, from: ári`, bágo, buwàl, dílat, gúmon, hinòg, laglàg, lamòg, láon, páwi`, punò`, puròl, súnog, tápos, úbos, utàs, walà`, yári`. The abstract is regular: daàn, hinòg, lagòt, pások, súnog, walà`. 441. The passive is used, further, to denote the animate performer of an involuntary act, which, then, is looked upon rather as an undergoing than as a performing. This is the clearest where the subject is undergoing an emotion or sensation: Naáwà si Hwàn sa pulúbe. Juan pitied the beggar. Ang báta ng si Hwàn ay nadúdungò. Little Juan is bashful. Naginàw sya sa kanya ng pagpalígo`. He got cold while taking his bath. Akú y nagùgútom. I am hungry; isa ng táo ng nagùgútom a hungry person. Nahàhápis siyà. He is sad. Nahíhiyá ka bà? Are you ashamed? Nahíhiyá sya. He is ashamed. Akù y nailàng. I was nonplussed, I didn't know what to do. Akò y naíinip nà nang paghihintày kay Hwàn. I am impatient with waiting for Juan. Sya y nalímang sa kanya ng pagbílang. He got confused in his reckoning. Sya nalúlungkòt. He is sorry. Akò y naùúhaw. I am thirsty. So: bagábag, gálit, libàng, tákot, tuwà`. This form is used also of processes of life, especially physiological and morbid: Nalumpò syà. He got lame. Napípe sya. He got dumb. So: naári` got the ability, nabáo got widowed, nabúhay lived, naíngay was noisy, nakinìg heard, nalúnod got drowned, namatày died, natúlog slept. It is used, finally, in nahúlog fell (from a place to the ground), and, strangely enough, for two voluntary actions which consist of a relaxing of the muscles: Sya y nahigà` He lay down. Sya y nahíhigà`. He was in the act of lying down. Naupó sya sa bangkò`. He sat down on the bench. Naúupó sya sa taburéte. He was in the act of sitting down on the stool. Further, irregularly, in: Sya y nalígo`. He took a bath. Sya y nanáog. He came down from the house. See § 488,c. Abstracts: Ang pagkaáwà ni Hwàn sa pulúbe Juan's pity for the beggar. ang pagkabáta` one's childhood. ang pagkabúhay ni Hesùs the resurrection of Jesus. Ang pagkagúlat ni Hwána ay sya nyà ng ipinagkasakìt. Juana's scare was what made her sick. Pagkalúnod nang Kastíla` ay lumáyas ang manga estudyànte. When the Spaniard had got drowned, the students hurried away. ang kanya ng pagkamatày his death. ang kanya ng pagkasála sa singsìng. his missing the ring. Pagkaupú nya sa bangkò` ay minulàn nya ang pagkukwènto sa manga báta`. When she had sat down on the bench, she began her story-telling to the children. So: ári`, hápis, húlog, litò, lóko, pípi, tákot, tálo, ulòl. 442. An explicit plural of both active and direct passive is formed by the infixation of -ang- into the prefix. In the active the syllable after this infix often receives a secondary accent: Nangàkaupú na silà sa pagkáin, nang kamì ay dumatìng. They had already sat down to their meal when we arrived. So also from: bitàw, biyábit. With reduplication of the ka- instead of root initial: Nangàkàkaupó silà sa pagkáin. They are able to sit up for their meals. Direct passive: Ang dinala nyà ng manga manòk ay nangamatày. The chickens he brought all died. Nangapútol ang tubò sa lakàs nang bagyò. The sugar-cane broke under the strength of the typhoon. Nangapùpútol ang karamíhan nang tubò nang kasalukúyan ang bagyò. During the typhoon most of the sugar-cane got broken. So from: bulòk, íwan, lúnod, lungkòt, tákot, tuwà`. 443. From a compound word, passive: nasawi-ng-pálad (sawì ng pálad). From a derived word, active: makataanàn (taanàn, § 378). 444. Accent shift is due to the root. Si Pédro ay nakaayàw nà. Pedro has left the table. So from ábot, sákit. Passive: Naabut nyà ang ilawàn. He managed to reach the lamp. Hindí nya maabùt ang itlòg. He can't reach the egg. Ang báta ng si Hwàn ay nabábahày. Little Juan is shy. Abstract: Pagkaabòt nang bátà nang kanyà ng laruwàn ay tumakbò sya ng agàd. After reaching for his toys, the boy at once ran. 445. With pag- before the root, this active is made from roots whose primary active has mag-. The reduplication affects either the ka-, or the pag-, or the root initial: makà-ka-pag- or maka-pà-pag- or maka-pag- R. Ang báta` ay nakapagdalà nang káhoy. The boy managed to bring the wood. Ang báta` ay nakapagdádalà (or: nakàkapagdalà, or: nakapàpagdalà) nang káhoy. The boy is able to bring the wood. Nakàkapaglasìng si Ánong, káhit na sya y hindí binàbayáan nang kanya ng asáwa na makapagpabilè nang álak. Anong manages to get drunk, even though his wife does not allow him to have liquor purchased for him. Nakapagpútol na si Hwàn nang káhoy. Juan has finished cutting wood. Nakapagpùpútol nà si Hwàn nang káhoy. Juan is already able to cut wood. Hindí makapagpútol nang káhoy si Hwàn, dahilàn sa súgat nya sa kamày. Juan cannot cut wood, on account of the wound on his hand. Similarly: antòk, áral, bíhis, ligtàs, mísa, nákaw, pasiyàl, sábi, salità`, tágo`, takà. 446. Direct passive: ma-pag-; ma-pag- R or ma-pà-pag-. Hindí ko mapagáyos ang manga damìt na itò. I can't straighten out these clothes. Mapàpagáyos nya ang manga lipàs sa úso ng damìt na itò. She will be able to fix these out-of-date clothes. Hindí ko mapagkúro` kung anò ang íbig nya ng sabíhin. I couldn't make out what he wanted to say. Nang mapagkúrò ni Hwàn kung anò ang mangyàyári, ay hindí nya itinúloy ang kanya ng bálak. When Juan saw what was going to happen, he did not carry out his plan. Hindí ko mapagkúro ang kahulugàn nang súlat na itò. I can't get at the meaning of this letter. Napagtalastàs ko ang manga sinàsábi mo sa iyo ng súlat. I understand all you say in your letter. Napagtátalastàs (or: napàpagtalastàs) kò ang íbig mo ng sabíhin. I understand what you mean. 447. maka-pag- (1), cf. § 353. Nang nakapaghanap syà ay umuwé sya sa kanya ng báhay. When he had finished searching, he went home. Kung makapaghanap syà ay úuwé sya. When he has finished searching, he will go home. 448. maka-pang-, corresponding to mang-, § 357. Nakàkapanghiràm kamì nang kwaltà kay Áli ng Kulása. We can borrow money from Aunt Nicolasa. Makàkapanghiràm ka ng wala ng sála kay Hwàn nang isa ng sombréro. You will surely be able to borrow a hat from Juan. Nakapangàngabáyo sya ng patayò`, sapagkàt hindí gulatìn ang kanya ng kabáyo. He is able to ride standing up, because his horse is not given to shying. Abstract: pagkapangáko` (áko`). (a) The root is reduplicated for plurality: Ang pagkapanghahárang nila Hwán ay hindí nila sána magawà`, kung hindí sa karamíhan nang táo nila na máy barìl. The highway robberies by Juan and his gang could not have been perpetrated by them, if it had not been for the number of them that had guns. (b) From a derived word: makapangináin (kináin, §§ 365, 357,a). 449. ma- D; expressive of slow activity: Hindí sya mamatày-matày. He is lingering on the death-bed. Ang pàgakpákan nang manga táo ay hindí matápus-tápus. The applause of the people could find no end. 450. In the instrumental passive, which seems to occur only with pag- and pang-, the i- follows the ma-: Ang pagkàtáwag nang kúra sa manga pulìs ay hindí nya ikinabúte, sapagkàt silà y kàkauntí lámang úpang maipagtanggòl sya sa manga magnanákaw. The priest's having called in the police did him no good, for they were too few to defend him from the thieves. With pang-: naipangánganàk (anàk, cf. § 357). 451. The local passive has the prefix ma- and the suffix (1) -an. Namatayàn sina Hwàn. Someone has died in Juan's family. Namatayàn sa báhay ni Hwàn. There has been a death in Juan's house. Naputúlan si Hwàn nang dalíre` sa pagpapalákad nang mákina. Juan got a finger cut off in running the machine. Napùputúlan nang médiko ang manga táo nang kanila ng kamày o paà kung kayilángan. When necessary, people get their hands or feet cut off by a doctor. Mapùputúlan ka nang dalírì`, pag hindí ka nagíngat sa iyo ng pagtatrabáho sa mákina ng iyàn. You will get your finger cut off, if you aren't careful about the way you work that machine. Nasakyàn ko nà ang kabáyo ng bara-barà. I have succeeded in mounting the wild horse. Naskyàn ko nà ang bangka ng itò. I have already been in this canoe. Nawalàn nang málay ang babáye sa kanyà ng paghihimatày. The woman lost consciousness in her swoon. Similarly: báli`, bukàs, halìk, hírap, láon, límot, luwàt, patìd, pílit, sákit, síra`, siyà, súbok, súgat, sunggàb, tagàl, tandà`, úbos. (a) bitìw lacks accent shift: mabitíwan, cf. § 374,b. 452. Local passive with explicative pag-: Hindí námin mapaglagarían nang káhoy ang kabáyo ng káhoy na ginawá mo. We cannot saw wood on the saw-buck you have made. Napagputúlan námin nang kawáyan ang bágo ng gawá mo ng kabáyo ng káhoy. We were able to cut bamboo on the sawbuck you have just made. 453. Special static words resembling the active; the following occur: Si Bantùg ay isa ng táo ng makabáyan. Bantog is a patriotic man. damò ng makahyà` the sensitive plant, Mimosa pudica. Of irregular use are makalawà (§ 262,8), and makatuwìd (tuwìd). (a) From a word of this kind an active with mag- is derived in: nagmàmakaáwa` provoking pity (as though from makaáwa`). (b) The abstract is like a special static word in: Ang bigàs ay sya ng pinakamahalagà ng pagkabúhay nang táo sa Filipínas. Rice is the most important staple food in the Philippines. Cf. also pagkaráka, § 265,9. 454. ma- forms special static words denoting that which by nature or circumstance possesses such and such, usually a quality. Maalikabok nà ang mésa. The table is dusty already. Maásim ang súka ng itò. This wine is sour. ang púno-ng-káhoy na mabába` a low tree; isa ng mabába ng táo a humble person. Ang labàng ay mabábaw. The trough of the manger is shallow. Madálang ang manga lindòl díto. Earthquakes are rare here. Sya y isa ng ginoò ng magálang. He is a polite gentleman. Maginháwa ang umupó sa sìlya ng itò. This chair is comfortable to sit in. Si Maryà ay isa ng babáye ng mapúri. Maria is a decent woman. Maluwàng ang báro ng itò. This blouse is too loose. matamìs sweet, ang matamìs sugar. Matipìd na báta` si Hwàn. Juan is a saving child. The plural is made with ma- r: Ang manga táo sa báyan ay mahuhúsay sumunòd sa kautusàn. The people of the town are all good law-abiders. These forms are made from so many roots that the Index will be as convenient as a list. Derivatives: §§ 352,c. 353,a.b. 370. 499,a. 500,b. (a) Note masiyádo excessive, extreme, as though from a root -siyádo (and so listed), still felt by Mr. Santiago to be from Spanish demasiado. (b) Accent shift due to the root in masakìt. (c) From derived words: Ang pagtayú sa bubungàn ay mapangánib. It is dangerous to stand on the roof. So from kasalánan (§ 423), kabuluhàn (§ 422). 455. ma-pag- someone given to doing so and so: Ang inà ni Pédro ay mapagbigày sa kanya ng manga kaululàn. Pedro's mother always gives in to his foolishness. Sya y mapagtipìd. He is very economical. So from: gawà`, kumpisàl, simbà, siyásat, usísa`. (a) From a phrase, probably: Ang táo ng si Hwàn ay mapagpáku-m-babà`. That man Juan is overmodest (páko ng babà` low peg?). (b) With accent shift: Mapaghunì ang manga kabáyo ng itò, kanya hindí dápat dalhìn sa labanàn. These horses are given to neighing and therefore should not be taken to war. So also: mapagawày. 456. In the same sense, but transitive in value, ma-pang-: mapanggúlat given to surprising or frightening people, mapanghágis given to flinging things; Ang táo ng si Hwàn ay mapanghiràm. The fellow Juan is a great borrower. mapanghiyà` given to embarrassing people. mapamukòl given to throwing things. So from: hilìng, matà. 457. In similar meanings, with suffix -in: (a) ma- S -in: So magustúhin, masùnúrin. (b) ma- (2) -in: Ang manga táo y hindí maibigìn sa pagkakàsála. People are not fond of sinning. (c) ma- r (2) -in: matatawanìn easily made to laugh; Sya y matutulugìn. He is a sleepy-head. So also: magugulatìn. 458. The transients with kà- refer to accidental actions. The active has the forms: makà-, makà- R, nakà-, nakà- R, but the reduplication sometimes affects the kà- instead of the root initial. The abstract has pagkà-. The meanings are various, much like those of maka-. 459. The active sometimes expresses an inanimate object as the agent of an accidental action: Ang guntìng nang manggagamòt ay nakágupit nang isa ng ugàt na malakè, kanyà` namatày ang kanya ng ginágamòt. The physician's scissors accidentally cut a large artery, in consequence of which his patient died. Similarly, from gísing, háwa. 460. More frequent is a rational actor of an accidental action; as such is viewed any action the exact form of which is out of the actor's control. Si Pédro ay nakàháwak nang káwad na mày elektrisidàd. Pedro got hold of a charged wire. Hindí nya kilalà ang manga kwayanà ng iyòn, kaniyà nakàpútol sya nang sa iba ng táwo ng kawáyan. As he did not know those bamboo-groves, he inadvertently cut some bamboo that belonged to other people. Sundan mò silà sa kawayanàn, sapagkàt baká sila nakàpùpútol nang kawáya ng hindí nasàsákop nang áti ng lúpa`. Follow them to the bamboo-grove, for they may be cutting some bamboo that is not included in our land. Hwàn, usisáin mo ng mabúti ang hanggáhan nang kawayanàn, bágo ka tumagá nang kawáyan, sapagkàt baká ka makàpútol nang kawáya ng hindí átin. Juan, find out exactly the borders of the bamboo-grove before you cut any bamboo, for else you might cut some bamboo that is not ours. Pího ng makàpùpútol silà nang kawáya ng hindí sakòp nang lúpa`, kapag hindí mo sila pinakialamàn, sapagkàt ang hanggáhan nang lúpa ng iyòn ay lubhà ng balú-baluktòt. They will surely cut some bamboo not included in the piece of ground, if you don't look after them, for the boundary of the land is very irregular. Nakàtísod akò nang isa ng áhas. I hit a snake with my foot. Nakàtúlog si Hwàn sa báhay na gibà-gibà`. Juan hit upon a broken-down house as a place to sleep in, was constrained by circumstances to sleep in a broken-down house. Nakàusísà sya nang nawalà ng kwaltà. It came to her mind to inquire about the lost money. Nakàusísà sya nang isa ng táo ng nakààalàm nang líhim. He happened to ask a man who knew the secret. Similarly: bilì, daàn, inòm, káin, súlat, tagpò`. Abstract: In the abstract the element of accident often takes the form of expressing the way something turned out. Limàng ang pagkàbílang nya sa manga itlòg na itò. His count of these eggs has turned out wrong. Ang pagkágawá ni Hwána sa páyong ay masamà`. The umbrella Juana made turned out poorly. Ang pagkágupìt sa úlo nang báta` ay hindí pantày-pantày. The boy's hair-cut isn't (hasn't turned out) even. Ang pagkàháti nang mansánas ay hindí parého. The halving of the apple is not exact. Ang pagkàísip nya sa bugtòng ay hindi táma`. His guess at the riddle is not correct. Ang pagkálagok nyà sa itlòg ay kanya ng pinagsisíhan. He repented his having (in a moment of weakness) swallowed the egg. Ang pagkàpások ni Hwàn nang tapòn sa bóte ay malálim. Juan got the cork too deep into the bottle. Ang pagkápatay sa magnanákaw ay hindí sinadyà`. The killing of the thief was not done on purpose. Ang pagkápatay sa manòk ay masamà`. This chicken has not been slaughtered in the proper manner. Ang pagkàpútol nang pálong nang kátiyaw ay hindí sagàd. The cock's comb is not cut off clean. Ang pagkátahul nang áso ay sya ng inilalá nang sakìt nya sa lalamúnan. The dog's barking made the pain in its throat worse. Ang pagkátanaw kò sa púno-ng-káhoy ay itò y may madidilàw na dáhon. The way I looked at that tree made it seem as if it had yellow leaves. Ang kanya ng pagkátayò` (or: pagkátindìg) ay dahilàn sa kanya ng pagkàgúlat. He jumped to his feet because of his surprise. Ang pagkàtípon nang manga dáho ng itò ay hindí mabúte. These leaves have not been well heaped up. So from: bendisiyòn, bitbìt, hampàs, higà`, pálo`, tágo`, tirà, upò`. 461. The active may denote a rational actor successful, thanks to outer circumstances, in such and such an action. Nakáhampas ang báta ng si Hwàn nang isa ng tutubè. Little Juan succeeded in hitting a dragon-fly with his whip. Nakàháte si Hwàn nang manga mansánas. Juan got a chance to divide up the apples. Nakàkàkapá sya nang isa ng palakà`. He has got hold of a frog (as, in grasping for frogs in mud-holes). Nakàpána akò nang usà. I hit a deer with an arrow. Nakàtípun nà akò nang manga dáhon, nang pumaròn si Tátay. By the time Father got there, I had already had time to get some leaves heaped up. So also: ágaw, hingì`, sáli. Abstract: Ang pagkàbúhay nang médiko sa kay Hwàn ay isà ng malakì ng ikinatwá nang kanya ng kababáyan. The doctor's saving of Juan's life was a cause of great gladness to his fellow-townsmen. Ang pagkàtáwag nyà sa médiko ng nagligtàs nang búhay nang kanya ng anàk ay dahilàn sa pagkàgámit nya nang teléfono. His chance of calling the doctor who saved his child's life was due to the use he was enabled to make of the telephone. Ang nagìng pagkágupit nyà sa makapàl na damìt ay nangyáre dahilàn sa paggámit nya nang guntìng nang láta. The fact that he was able to cut the thick cloth was due to his using the tin-shears. Ang pagkáhampas nyà sa manga bátà` ay dahilàn sa kahabáan nang kanya ng pamálo`. He can hit the children because of the length of his stick. Ang pagkàhárang kina Hwàn ay sya nilà ng ikinawalá nang kanila ng salapè`. Juan and his party's having been held up was what deprived them of their money. Ang pagkàháti nya sa tubù ay hindí mangyàyáre kung gumámit sya nang mapurùl na gúlok. He would not have been able to slice the sugar-cane down its length (as a game or trick), if he had used a dull bolo. Pagkàísip nya kung anò ang dápat nya ng gawìn sa magnanákaw na nàhúli nya, ay ginawá nya iyòn agàd. When he had at last hit upon the idea of what to do with the thief he had caught, he immediately carried it out. Nanghináyang ang boo ng báyan sa pagkápatay kay Risàl nang manga Kastíla`. The whole country mourned over the killing of Rizal by the Spaniards. Ang ámi ng pagkásakay sa bangkà` ay syà ng nagligtàs sa ámi ng búhay. Our having been able to get into the canoe is what saved our lives. Ang pagkàsúnog nang manga magnanákaw sa báyan ay pinarusáhan nang gubyèrno. The thieves' burning the town was punished by the government. Ang pagkátayo nang isa ng báhay-pàmahaláa ng batò ay dahilàn sa pagpapaalaála ni Hwàn nang pangánib sa súnog. The fact that a stone government-building came after all to be built, was due to Juan's calling attention to the danger from fire. Anu ng pagkátipid ni Hwàn! How saving Juan has been! So from: sábi, táwag. 462. The active is used of certain acts of sensation whose occurrence is out of the control of the subject: ang nakàkìkilála, ang nakàkàkilála one who has got knowledge of a person or thing, has come to know his habits, recognizes his nature. Ang pagkàgúlat ni Hwána ay syà ng ikinátawà nang marámi ng nakàkàkíta. Juana's astonishment amused many who saw it. With kilála compare nakáramdàm felt; with kíta, nakàmálay, nakátanàw, and nakárinìg heard. Abstract: Malínaw ang pagkàkíta ko sa nangyáre. I had a clear view of what took place. So: dinìg, masìd, tanàw. 463. The direct passive has the forms mà-, mà- R, nà-, nà- R. It may correspond regularly to the active type in § 460, and denote an object undergoing an accidental action of a rational actor. Nàáso ko sa boo ng báyan ang báta`, káhit na hindí ko gustò. I was forced to go shouting after the child all over town, though I didn't like to do it. Hindí mu ba nàbása sa diyáriyo ang tungkùl sa súnog? Haven't you come across the details of the fire in the paper? Baká mo màbásag, Hwána, iyà ng pinaglàlaruwan mò ng kandeléro. See that you don't break that candlestick you're playing with, Juana. Nádala nyà nang hindí sinásadyà` sa kanya ng pagalìs ang áki ng páyong. When he went away he inadvertently carried off my umbrella. Nàgambála ku ang pagaáral ni Hwàn dahilàn sa áki ng pagdatìng na walá sa óras. I disturbed Juan in his studying by my untimely arrival. Nàgámit ni Hwàn ang áki ng, sombréro dahilàn sa kanyà ng pagmamadalí nang pagalìs. Juan used my hat in the haste of his departure. Nàgísing nya sa kanya ng pagiingày ang manga báta`. What with his racket he woke up the children. Náhampàs nang hindí sinásadyá ni Pédro ang bábuy nang kanya ng kápit-báhay. Pedro inadvertently hit his neighbor's hog with his whip. Nàíwan din nyà sa ákin ang kanyà ng anàk, káhit na itò y áyaw nya ng gawìn. She was also forced to leave her child with me, although she disliked to do this. Nápatày ko nang barìl-barílan ang manòk. I accidentally killed the chicken with my toy-gun. Kánin mo ang milòn, kung iyu ng gustò, o kayà` ang ságing, kung sya mo itò ng nàpìpíle`.--Nàpìpíli ko ang milòn. Eat the banana, if you like, or the melon, if you prefer it.--I prefer the melon. Nápitas nyà ang bulaklàk nang hindí sinásadyà`. She picked the flower without intending to. Nàpútol ko nang hindí sinásadyà` ang lúbid na itò. I chanced, without intending it, to cut this string. Baká mo màsíra`, Hwàn, ang patágo sa iyù ng kwàlta nang iyu ng kapatìd. See to it, Juan, that you don't do away with your brother's money that is entrusted to you. Nàusísà ni Hwána ang inumìt na singsìng nang kanyà ng kapatìd. Juana happened to inquire for the ring her sister had filched. So from: angkìn, búlag, bútas, hábol, patày, púlot. 464. The direct passive may correspond regularly to the active described in § 461, and denote an object undergoing an action which a rational actor was enabled to perform by virtue of outer circumstances. Ang úlo ni Hwàn ay nàbìbílog nang kanya ng kalarò`. Juan's playmates are succeeding in making a fool of him (literally: in rounding his head). Nágupit nyà ang makapàl na damìt. It turned out that he was able to cut the thick cloth. Hindí ku màípon ang manga karáyum na nangàsábug sa lúpa`. I did not succeed in gathering up all the needles that were scattered over the floor. Hindí ko mápatay ang púsa ng itò. I cannot kill this cat (i.e. its life is tough, it gets away, etc.) Kapag nàpútol mo ang bákal na iyàn, ikàw ay makawáwalà`. If you can get a chance to cut through that iron, you can make your escape. Nàpútol nya ang káhoy. He got the wood cut all right. Hindí nya màpútol ang leèg nang manòk. He couldn't get the chicken's neck cut through. Màpùpútol na raw nyà ang púno nang káhoy na nabwàl. He says he will be in a position to cut through the tree that has fallen. ang kanyà ng násingìl the money he was able to collect. Similarly, from: bálot, gawà`, húli, kúha, kúlam, nákaw, pitàs, sábi, taàs, táwag. 465. Similarly, the direct passive is regularly used to correspond to the active in § 462, of objects of sensation. Nàkilála ko si Hwàn doòn sa sàwáyan. I got acquainted with Juan at that dance. So from: alaála, dinìg, inò, kíta, málas, pansìn. 466. Other uses of the direct passive do not regularly correspond to any active, cf. § 440 f.; these have their own abstract with pagkà-. The direct passive is used to denote an object which has accidentally got into such and such a condition; the actor is either indifferent or entirely lacking. There seems to be no abstract principle clearly separating this form from the passive with na- described in § 440; where position of the object is involved, the accidental form is preferred. Nàbúte ang kanyà ng pagkatákot. His fear reached a high point. Ang kanya ng bangkà y patúngo sa bandà ng kalunúran, dátapuwat pagkaraàn nang ilà ng sandalì` ay náiba ang kanya ng bandáhin. His canoe was headed toward the west, but after a while his direction changed. Ang ìnumínan nang báhay ay dápat málagay sa lugàr na malílim. The shelf for drinking-water of a house should be in a shady place. Násakay sa trèn ang ipinahatìd mo ng manga dalanghíta`. The tangerines you sent have been shipped. Nàtúlin ang pagpapadulàs nang báta ng si Hwàn sa pútek. Juan's sliding on the mud got faster and faster (in spite of him). Similarly from: bágay, balíta`, baòn, dápat, doòn, hintò`, húsay, kápit, lapàg, látag, ligtàs, liguwàk, lípat, lubòg, lúlan, mána, nákaw, pagítan, páko`, patày, pátung, sábog, taàn, tábon, tágo`, talà`, tanìm, taòn, tayò`, tirà, túlos, únat. Abstract: Pagkásakay nang manga sáko nang kamóte sa trèn ay lumákad itò agàd. As soon as the bags of sweet-potatoes had been put on board the train, the latter started to move. So from: balíta`, gámit, ibà, látag, libìng, sarà. 466a. This irregular passive is used also of animate, rational subjects, whose actions, then, are viewed rather as an accidental undergoing; this type is not clearly definable from that with ma- in § 441, except where both forms are used in contrast (-higà`); the habit with regard to each root is, however, entirely fixed. In some cases the accidental actor is imaginable: Náakyàt si Pédro sa itaàs nang lángit dahilàn sa ginawá nya ng pagkápit sa pinalipàd na lóbo. Pedro got carried up into the air owing to his grip on the loosed balloon. Nàhárang sina Hwàn sa daà-ng-Balíwag. Juan and his company chanced to get held up on the Baliuag road. Hwag kà, Hwàn, pumásuk sa sekréta, sapagkàt baká ka máhigà` sa ihawàn, kung ikàw ay màhúle. Don't go as a spy, Juan, for you might get laid on the gridiron, if you got caught. Similarly: banggìt, barìl, bilanggò`, distíno, húli, ligtàs, píli`, tanggàp, táwag. Processes of life: Sya y nábingì. He got deaf. Nàbúte si Hwàn sa kanya ng pagkatákot. Juan was bettered by his fright. Si Pédro at si Maryà ay màkàkasàl. Pedro and Maria will get married some day. So: himbìng, lóko, tahímik, tinìk, túto, wíli. Abstract: Ang pagkàgúlat ni Hwána sa maíngay na putòk nang kanyòn ay sya nyà ng ikinabingì. Juana's shock at the loud report of the cannon was what made her deaf. Malakì ang kanila ng nagìng pagkàgúlat. Their astonishment was great. Ang pagkàsúnog sa manga sundálo sa loòb nang báhay ay nangyári dáhil sa pagkásara nang manga bintána`. The fact that the soldiers were burned in the house was due to the circumstance that the windows had been closed. Ang pagkátinìk sa lalamúnan nang báta` ay sya nyà ng ikinamatày. The boy's getting a fishbone into his throat was what killed him. Pagkátinik nang unggò` ay sya y nagálit. When the monkey had got a spine into his foot he got angry. Ang pagkàwíle ni Hwàn sa báhay ny Andrès ay dahilàn sa anàk na dalága nitò. Juan's being spell-bound in Andres' house was due to the latter's daughter. So: gustò, kasàl, manghà`. Movements, especially the resultant position: Sya y nárapà`. He fell on his face. Náriyan kamì sa iyo ng báhay kahápon nang umága, dátapuwat hindí ka námin dinatnàn. We were at your house yesterday morning, but we did not find you there. Náluhod sya sa kanyà ng harapàn. He knelt down in front of her. Nàpàpagítan si Hwàn sa dalawà ng dalága. Juan chanced to get placed between two young ladies. Sila y nàùupò`. They are seated. Similarly from: ákap, alìs, bálot, díne, díto, dulàs, doòn, haràp, kublì, kulòng, lákad, lugmòk, padpàd, panhìk, sakày, sísid, tabì, tágo`, tayò`, tirà, tungtòng. Abstract: Ang ikinátahol nang manga áso ay ang pagkádapá ni Hwàn. What made the dogs bark was Juan's falling on his face. Pagkásakay ni Hwàn sa trèn ay lumákad ito ng agàd. When Juan was on board the train, it soon started to move. So also: dulàs, kublì, lagày, panhìk, silìd, tabì, tayò`. 467. The passive forms an explicit plural in which -ang- is infixed into the nà-: Tibáyan mo ang manga itátayú mo ng kúbo sa búkid, sapagkàt baká iyo y mangágibà` kung lumakàs ang hángin. Prop up the huts you are going to build in the fields, for otherwise they might break down when the wind gets stronger. Mangàgìgibà` ang manga báhay na itò, sapagkàt hindí táma` ang pagkátayò`. These houses will break down, because they are not built right. So from: pangàw, sábog, talungkò`. 468. An irregular form is nàndon beside ná-roòn. 469. Accent shift is due to the root: Ang pagpapatahòl ni Hwàn sa kanya ng áso ay nakàtàtawà. Juan's making his dog bark is a funny sight. So álam, túloy. Passive: Náabut nyà sa kanyà ng paglulundàg na may tánga ng pamálo` ang ilawàn, kanyà` itò y nabásag. In his climbing with the stick in hand, he accidentally reached the lamp, and so it got broken. Sya y nábulàg. He went blind. So: gísing, háyag, húli, lápit, láyo`, túloy. Abstract: Ang pagkáhuli nang susò` ay malakè. The snail was left way behind. Ang pagkáabot nyà sa bóte ay hindi magálang. The way he reached for the bottle was not polite. So: álam, áyaw, gísing, lápit, úna. 470. From phrases: Ang paánan nang hìgáan ay nàbàbandà-ng-kataasàn, dátapwat dápat màbanda-ng-ibabà`. The foot of the bed is turned toward the north, but should be turned to the south (bandà ng ibabà`, bandà ng kataasàn). From derived words: Passive: Nàtàtagílid ang bangkà`. The boat has a list to one side (ta-gílid, § 523). (a) Passives from words with prefix ka- (§ 398) are frequent. Ang búkid ni Hwàn ay nàkàkarátig nang kay Pédro. Juan's field borders on Pedro's. Nàkasále nya sa kanya ng paglalarò` ang kanya ng pínsan. He took his cousin for playmate. Si Maryáno ay nàkatálo ni Hwàn. Mariano was Juan's opponent. Si Narsíso ang lági ng nàkàkatálo ni Pédro sa manga pagtatálo ng idinàdáos linggo-linggò sa kanila ng sàmáhan. Narcisso is always Pedro's opponent in the debates which they hold every Sunday at their club. Si Lúkas ang màkàkatálo ko. Lucas will be my opponent. nàkàkatúngo the person one happens to be dealing with. nàkaúsap be by chance able to be conversed with. Underlying word non-existent: Nàkatúlog si Hwàn sa panunoòd nang teátro. Juan fell asleep while watching the play. Umulàn kagabì at lumamìg, kaniyà` ako nàkatúlog nang mahimbìng. Last night it rained and got cool; in consequence I fell sound asleep, got a sound sleep. Hindí ako màkatúlog. I couldn't get any sleep. Abstract: ang pagkàkatúlog. (b) Explicit plural of the preceding: Nangàkàkatúlog sila ng lahàt, nang pumások sa báhay ang magnanákaw. They had all fallen asleep, when the thief came into the house. Pagpilítan ninyò ng hwag kayò ng mangàkatúlog sa inyo ng pagbabantày sa manga háyop at iba pà ng árì nang pàmahalaàn. See to it that you don't fall asleep when on guard over the animals and other property of the government. Ngayòn ay mangàkàkatúlog silà, dahilàn sa maláon nila ng pagpupuyàt gabi-gabì. Now they will be able to sleep, owing to their staying up late night after night. 471. Passive with pag- (cf. § 445): the reduplication affects the pag-. Hindí ko màpagáway ang tamìs at ang ásim nang limonáda ng itò. I cannot produce a balance of sweet and sour in this lemonade. Sa kalaúnan ay nàpagkilála ni Hwàn ang kanya ng kamàlían. Finally Juan saw where he was wrong. Hindí nya nàpagkúro` agàd kung anò ang gàgawin nyà. He was not able to decide at once what he was going to do. Nàpàpagkúrù mo bà ang lahàt nang sinábi ko sa iyò kahápon? Are you able to figure out all I said to you yesterday? Hindí ko màpagkúro kung anò ang íbig nya ng sabíhin. I simply couldn't make out what he was trying to say. (a) Accent shift is due to the root: Áyon sa sábi nang marámi ay màpàpaghuli na ràw ang manga magnanákaw. According to what people say, the thieves will soon be caught. 472. Passive with pang-: Nàpanagínip niya ng nàkíta nya ang kanya ng amà. He dreamt he saw his father. 473. makà- D is used in prohibitions: Hwag kà ng makàláyas-láyas! Don't ever run away! So from tungtóng. (a) with paki-: Hwag kà ng makàpakikáin-káin kung hindí ka inàanyáhan. Don't ever take a meal with people unless they invite you. 474. The instrumental passive is rare: badiyà, màilabàs, màipások, màitúro`. 475. Local passive with mà-. Nàmàmasdan kò mulá sa banda ng itò nang bintána` ang báhay ni Áli ng Maryà. I get a view of Mistress Maria's house from this side of the window. Pagingátan mo ang iyo ng kwaltà sa bulsà pagluwàs mo sa Mayníla`, at nang hwag kà ng mànakáwan. Look carefully to the money in your purse when you go to Manila, so as not to get robbed. Nàpasúkan nya sa kwàrto ang magnanákaw. In entering the room he came upon the thief. Nàputúlan ku nang tahìd ang kátyaw. I managed to cut the game-cock's spur. Nàpùputúlan ko nà nang pálong ang kátyaw. I am succeeding in cutting off the game-cock's comb. Màpùputúlan daw nyà nang manga pálong ang manga kátyaw nya ng pangsábong. He will manage to cut off the combs of his pit game-cocks, he says. Nàsagasáan nang trèn ang isa ng táo. A man got run over by the train. Nàsakyan námin ang bangká ni Hwàn. We happened to get into Juan's canoe. Ang kamàtáya ng màtagpuàn nang isa ng magnanákaw ay lági ng hindí mabúte. The death a robber meets is usually not good. Baká mu màtamáan ang úlu nang báta`. See that you don't hit the child's head (and disfigure him). Similarly: balíta`, bukàs, damdàm, datìng, gustò, intindì, kamìt, kulápol, ligtàs, málay, pígil, tanìm, túlog, tumpàk, túto, wisìk. (a) With contraction of prefix and initial: màláman (álam). (b) Accent shift lacking: nàmatáan (matà). (c) Extra accent shift is due to the root: Kamuntí nang màtamaàn nang kanya ng pukòl ang báta`. He nearly hit the child with his throw. Baká mu màtamaàn ang báta`. See that you don't hit the child. So also: nàalamàn (álam). 476. Local passive with mà-pag-: Nàpaghìhinaláan nang kápitan ang mabaìt na si Hwàn. Even honest Juan falls under the mayor's suspicion. Nàpàpaghinaláan nilà si Kulàs sa pagkawalá nang aláhas. They are capable of suspecting Nicolás in connection with the disappearance of the jewelry. Màpàpaghinaláan ka ng kasabuwàt nang manga sundálo sa bundòk, kapag hindí ka tumahímik sa báhay. You will risk suspicion as having connection with the soldiers in the mountains, if you do not stay quietly in your house. Similarly: álam, bintàng. (a) Extra accent shift (plural): mà-pag-alam-àn. 477. Local passive with mà-pang-; the only example lacks accent shift: nà-pang-aginàldo-han. 478. Local passive with mà- from underlying word with ka- (cf. § 398): nàkagalítan, màkatuwaàn. (a) with pagka-, corresponding to an active with magka- (§ 405): màpagkalipumpunàn (lipumpòn). 479. Special static words with makà- are formed from numerals in the sense of so many times: makàánim six times; makálawà twice; makálimà five times; makásiyàm nine times. So: makáilàn several times. From phrases, the higher numbers: makása-m-pù` ten times. With irregularities: makáitlò, makáyitlò three times; makàápat, makàípat four times. Reduplicated: makàlìlíbo a thousand times. 4. The prefix pa-. 480. The general sense of the prefix pa- is to denote something caused or ordered to undergo such and such an action. With accent pà- an increase of the action is expressed. (1) Simple static forms. 481. The root with prefix pa- denotes an object or person ordered, caused, or allowed to undergo such and such an action. The person caused to undergo may be the same as the person ordering or allowing. Ang paakyàt ni Hwána na púno nang kakàw ay ang nása súlok nang bakúran. The cocoa-tree Juana ordered climbed is the one in the corner of the yard. Ang panyo ng itò ay paalaála sa ákin niy Áli ng Maryà sa anàk nya ng dalága. This handkerchief is a souvenir to me from Aunt Maria which she sent by her daughter. Inihandá nang ámi ng kaséra ang atsára ng papáya úpang siya námi ng magìng paáyap. Our landlady served some pickled papaws for us to use as condiment. Pabalìk ni Hwàn ang lìbru ng itò. Juan sends this book back. Itò ang paháti` sa ákin ni Pédro. This is what Pedro ordered me to deal out. Ang manga tubò ng itò ay papútol sa ákin ni Pédro. Pedro ordered me to cut this sugar-cane. Ang táo ng itò ang pasakày ni Hwàn sa karumáta ko. This is the man whom Juan asked me to take into my carriage. Ang binása ni Hwà ng kautusàn ay patáwag nang kúra. The ordinance Juan read was given out for proclamation by the priest. Ang báhay na ytò y patayó ni Hwàn. Juan had this house built. Patípon ni Hwàn sa ákin ang manga nyòg na itò. Juan ordered me to gather up these cocoanuts. Ang pauwé ni Hwàn sa kanya ng inà ay isa ng maínam na singsìng. What Juan sent home to his mother was a beautiful ring. As conjunctive attribute the word with pa- may express manner: ang daà ng pabalìk sa Balíwag the road back to Baliuag. Papások sya ng lumàlákad sa gitná nang báhay. He was going farther in toward the inside of the house. Pasakày sya ng lumuksò sa kabáyo. He jumped on the horse as if mounting to ride. Nang mahúlug ang báta` sa káhoy, ay paupó sya ng lumagpàk sa lúpa`. When the boy fell from the tree, he landed on the ground in a sitting position. Pauròng sya ng lumákad. He went backwards. With movements pa-, reflexive, is often weakened to a mere indication of direction: Paakyàt sa púnù nang káhoy ang unggò` nang sya y abútan nang lóbo. The monkey was just climbing the tree, when he was overtaken by the wolf. Pabalìk si Hwàn. Juan is going back. Patúngo si Hwàn sa báya-ng-Balíwag. Juan was headed for the town of Baliuag. Similarly: álam, biglà`, bulòng, gawà`, hárang, kálat, lági`, lalà`, puntà, sigàw, tágo`, takbò, talungkò`, tayò`, túloy. (a) From a derived word: paitaàs (itaàs, § 373). (b) The peculiar meaning is weakened in some words: ang paága a kind of rice which matures early, ang pakinábang profit, advantage, ang palabàs a theatrical performance, ang palígo` a bath, ang pamagàt an appellation, a nickname. So from: bangò`, bása, bayò, bigàt, daàn, dúsa, háyag, hintúlot, lákad, lígid, lúgit, sákit, talìm. (c) With retraction of accent and contraction: páno (anò). (d) Irregular: Ang pagkáparoon kò sa bèsbol ay paubáya` nang áki ng gurò`. My going to the baseball game was by permission of my teacher (báya`). 482. pa- (1) is made from barytone roots when they express manner, or, more especially, direction: Ang bangkà` ay hindí paayòn sa ílog. The boat is not headed with the stream. Pahagìs nya ng iniyabòt sa ákin ang aklàt. He handed me the book by tossing it. Iníwan nya ng paharàng sa daàn ang karitòn. He left the wagon blocking the road. Paharàng nya ng inihágis sa ílog ang púno-ng-ságing. He threw the banana tree crosswise into the river. Ang paglakè nang lámat nang pinggàn ay pahatè`. The increase in the crack of the dish is going towards halving it. Ang búnga ng itò y pahatè` kung mapiráso pagkahinòg. This fruit goes into halves when it breaks on ripening. Similarly: líhim, pútol. (a) The accent shift is due to the root and the value of the formation is as in § 481, in: Ang paabòt mo ng súlat ay tinanggàp ko. I have received the letter you sent to me. Si Hwàn ay isa ng báta ng pabayà`. Juan is a neglectful boy. (b) The accent shift is like that of a root word in: Paligú na ang manga báta`. The children are bathed now (pa-lígo`). 483. pa- r, as explicit plural: see ábot. 484. pa- D. The action is repeated at short intervals; the reflexive value is frequent. Sya y lumàlákad na pahintò-hintò`. He goes on, stopping every little while. Pamalí-malì` ang kanya ng pagbílang. His count contains repeated errors. Alam nyà ang manga pasíkot-síkot sa báya-ng-Balíwag. He knows all the ins and outs of the district of Baliuag. So from: iyàk, lígid, mínsan, pasiyàl, túlog. (a) Accent shift is due to the root: Patúlog-túlog at pagisìng-gisìng siyà. He sleeps and wakes by fits and starts. Patawà-tawà at paiyàk-iyàk siyà. She giggles at one moment and weeps the next. 485. pa-pa- has durative-iterative meaning: Papaalìs sya nang akò y dumatìng. He was just going away when I arrived. Papauròng sya ng lumàlákad. He was going backwards. So from labàs. (a) papáno (anò) seems equivalent to páno (§ 481,c). 486. As appears in the example of paligò` above (§ 482,b), the forms with pa- are apparently capable of all the modifications that are found in simple roots: Thus: (a) with prefix pang- (§ 347): Pangpakáin sa báta` ang gátas na itò. This milk is for the children's food. Pangpakáin sa panaúhin ang pinatay kò ng túpa. The sheep I have slaughtered is for serving to the guests. Pangpatukà sa manòk ang pálay na itò. These rice-grains are to be given to the chickens to pick (tukà` the beak of a fowl). So from: dikìt, lígo`. (b) with ka- R (§ 400): Kapàpapútol ko pa lámang nang manga káhoy na itò. I have just had this firewood cut. (c) with ka-pag- R (§ 400,a): Kapagpàpapútol ko lámang nang siìt kay Hwàn. I have just ordered Juan to cut up the bamboo spines. (2) Normal transients, abstracts, and special static words. 487. The root with pa- is sometimes used as a transient contingent punctual, with the value of a reflexive passive; more commonly the form with ma-pa- (§ 506) fulfils this function. There are three types: (a) Genuine reflexive passive: Paábut ka sa mangà nagsìsihábul sa iyò. Let yourself be overtaken by your pursuers. Paakyat kà kay Hwàn sa itaàs nang káhoy. Ask Juan to take you up into the tree. Twì ng papásuk akò sa síne sa áki ng kúyang, ay nasìsiráan ang mákina. Every time I ask my oldest brother to take me to the moving-picture show, something goes wrong with the machine. So: kasàl, ligàw. (b) Reflexive of interest: one who orders that something undergo such and such an action for him: Paakyàt ka kay Hwàn nang isa ng búnga-ng-nyòg. Ask Juan to climb for a cocoanut for you. (c) Reflexive of motion; the pa- has faded value; thus are used the local equivalents of the demonstrative pronouns and a few other words. Paríni ka. Come here. Tuwì ng aku y paroòn sa kanya ng báhay ay hindí ku sya inàabútan. Every time I go to his house, I fail to find him in. (d) If the pa- is accented, the action is more intense: Pàága ka nang pagparíto. Be very early in your coming here. (e) A contingent durative is formed with pa- R. (a) Paáakyat akò kay Hwàn sa itaàs nang káhoy. I shall ask Juan to take me up into the tree with him. Papàpások akò sa síne sa áki ng kúyang. I shall ask my brother to take me to the moving-picture show. (b) Paáakyat akò kay Hwàn nang isa ng búnga-ng-nyòg. I shall ask Juan to climb for a cocoanut for me. Papùpútol akò nang buhòk kay Hwàn. I shall ask Juan to cut my hair. 488. For the reflexive of motion (§ 487,c) a set of transients and an abstract are formed with -um- and pag-. These also are equivalent to the forms with ma-pa- (§ 506). (a) Regularly from the four roots serving as locals of the demonstrative pronouns. Pumaríni ka! Come here! Pumaríne ka sa áki ng tabì. Come close here to my side. Madálang ang pagparíto nang manga bálang. Locusts come here but rarely. Pího ako ng pàparíto sa alasìngko. I will surely come here at five o'clock. Pápariyàn sána kamì, dátapuwat nagkaroòn kamì nang malakì ng kaabalahàn, kanyà hindí kami nátuloy. We were coming to you, but we had so much trouble that we did not carry out our intention. Pagparoòn ko ay sàsabíhin ko sa kanyà ang ibinalítà mo. When I get there I shall tell him what you have told me. Kità ng dalawà ay páparon sa teyátro. We two are going to the theatre. (b) Occasionally from loòb: pumaloòb. (c) Also the abstracts pagpalígo`, pagpanáog; these form the transient with ma- from the root (§ 441); and pagpatúngo, which forms its transient with -um- from the root. (d) Plurals: magsipalígo`, nagsìsipanáog. 489. mag-pa-, pag-pa-pa-. Active with mag- from the root with pa- denotes one who causes, orders, or allows such and such an action to be performed on something else or (reflexively) on himself. Nagpaáyap ang ámi ng kaséra. Our landlady served a relish. Si Hwàn ay nagpabáya` sa kanya ng tungkúlin. Juan grew lax about his duties. Nagpabyày si Hwàn nang isdà` sa kanya ng palàisdáan. Juan had some fish put into his fishpond. Ang médiko ang nagpaginháwa sa máy sakìt. The doctor made the patient feel comfortable. Nagpagupìt akò sa barbéro. I had the barber cut my hair. Ang pagpapagupìt ko sa barbéro ng si Hwàn ay hindí ko lubhà ng gustò. I don't like very much to have my hair cut by barber Juan. Paráti ang manga pagpapahárang ni Andrès sa manga táo ng naglálakàd. Andrés often orders travellers to be held up. Si Pédro ay nagpaháte sa ákin nang pálay. Pedro had rice dealt out to me. Ang kàtiwála y syà ng nagpahátì nang pálay sa manga kasamà. It was the agent who ordered rice distributed to the field-workers. Ang pagpapaháte nang kàtiwála sa manga lariyò sa manga magkakápit-báhay ay hindí iniyútos nang panginoòn nya ng si Hwàn. The agent's having bricks distributed among the neighbors was not in accordance with the orders of his master Juan. Sya y nagpahíkaw sa kanya ng alíla`. She had her maid put her earrings on her. (híkaw an earring). Si Pédro ay nagpápahingà. Pedro is taking a rest (literally: allowing himself to breathe). Ang inà y nagpahubàd (or: nagpahubàd nang damìt) sa kanya ng anàk. The mother ordered her daughter to undress her. Sya y nagpakáin nang gúlay sa manga panaúhin. She served vegetables to the guests. Sya y nagpàpakaséra. She keeps a boarding-house. Sya y nagpàpalabàs nang lamòk. He is driving out the gnats. Nagpápalabàs nang teyátro ang sàmáha-ng-ópera. The opera company is producing a play. Nagpalígo si Hwàn nang kabáyo. Juan bathed some of the horses. ang pagpapalígo` the bathing something or someone. Nagpapútol si Hwàn nang labòng. Juan had some bamboo shoots cut. Nagpàpapútol kamì nang káhoy. We are having some wood cut. Ang pagpapapútol nya sa Intsèk nang buhòk ay hindí sinunòd nitò. When he ordered the Chinaman to cut his queue, the latter did not obey. Ang pagpapasakày sa trèn ni Hwàn nang manga kamátis ay hindí nautàs bágo lumákad ang trèn. Juan had not finished having his tomatoes loaded on the train, when the train started. Si Hwána ay nagpasákit nang marámi ng manglilígaw sa kanyà. Juana caused grief to many who wooed her. Si Hwána ay nagpasuklày sa kanya ng alíla`. Juana ordered her maid to comb her hair for her. Ang pagpapasundú nya sa ákin sa alíla` ay ikinagálit ko. His ordering me to fetch the servant made me angry. Sya y nagpàpatalìm nang isa ng gúlok. He is sharpening a bolo. Nagpatáwag akò nang isà ng kasamà. I had a workman called. Ang pagpapatáwag ko sa manga alíla ay hindí sinunòd nang báta ng si Hwàn. Little Juan did not obey my order to him to call some servants. Ang pagpapatáwag nang kúra sa léyi ay hindi nátuluy, sapagkàt binatò nang manga táo ang magtatawàg. The priest's order that the law be proclaimed was not carried out, for the crier was stoned by the people. Nagpatayó sya nang isa ng kúbo. He had a hut built. Ang pagpapatayó ni Hwàn nang isa ng kúbo ay hindí natápus bágo sya nàtáwag sa pagsusundálo. The hut Juan was having built was not finished before he was called to military service. Nagpatipìd sya sa manga kasamà nang kanila ng pagkáin. He had his workers be sparing with their food. Nagpatípon si Hwàn nang káhoy sa kanya ng manga kasamà. Juan ordered his workmen to gather wood. Ang pagpapatípon ni Hwàn sa manga kalabàw ay hindí sinunòd nang kanya ng kàtiwála`. Juan's order that the carabao be gathered together was not obeyed by his overseer. Sya y nagpatotoò sa úsap ni Maryà at ni Hwána. She gave testimony in the lawsuit between Maria and Juana. Si Hwána ay naparoòn sa ákin at siyà ng nagpatotoò na ikàw ay dumalò sa isa ng sabungàn. Juana came to me and assured me that you had attended a cock-fight. Ang pagpapatotoò nyà ay hindí tinanggàp nang hukòm. The judge did not accept his testimony. Sya y nagpaupò` nang ilà ng eskwéla. He had a few of the pupils sit down. Ang pagpapaupò nang maèstro sa manga eskwéla ay hindí nila sinunòd agàd. The teacher's order to the pupils to sit down was not promptly obeyed. Magpaútang ka nang kwaltà sa manga mahihírap. Lend money to the poor. Nagpauwí ba si Hwàn nang sìlya sa kanya ng inà?--Hindì`. Ang kanya ipinauwè` ay isa ng singsìng. Did Juan send a chair home to his mother?--No, he sent home a ring. Similarly: ábot, alaála, balìk, baòn, dalà, dulàs, dúnong, dúsa, galìng, gálit, gandà, gawà`, háyag, hírap, húli, ísip, iyàk, kilála, kinábang, kintàb, kíta, kulò`, kumpisàl, lagày, lákad, larò`, láyas, láyaw, limòs, lípas, lúto`, magàt, mísa, pások, siglà, singkàw, sísid, tahòl, tugtòg, túlog, túlos, ulàn. (a) Plural with magsi- (§ 386); nagsìsipagpalimòs. (b) From a derived word: Huwag kayò ng magpaumága sa inyo ng pagsasàlitáan. Don't let yourselves be overtaken by the morning in your conversation (umága, § 358). (c) Root with accent shift: Sya y nagpaabòt nang súlat sa ákin. He had a letter handed to me. (d) The pa- is accented, expressing extreme degree of action; from shifted root: Nagpáuna si Hwàn sa lakaràn. Juan managed to get himself into the very first place in the walking-party. So from: íwan. (e) Doubled root, shifted: Nagpáuna-unà si Hwàn sa lakaràn nang manga magkakasáma. Juan got himself too far ahead in the boys' walking-party. (f) Special static word (of the kind in § 358,d): ang magpapatawàg a town-crier. 490. pa- (1) -in, p-in-a. The direct passive from words with pa- denotes the person ordered to do so and so, the thing caused to be so and so. Padalángin mo ang iyo ng pagparíto. Make your coming here infrequent. Pagka pinapútol ka nyà nang káhoy ay sumunòd ka ng agàd. When he orders you to cut wood, do you obey at once. Pinapùpútol námin nang tubò si Pédro. We are having Pedro cut some sugar-cane. Paputúlin mo si Hwàn nang kúgon. Have Juan cut the cugon-weeds. Papùputúlin námin kayò nang yantòk. We shall ask you to cut some rattan. Pinatahòl ni Hwàn ang kanya ng áso. Juan made his dog bark. Pinatalìm nya itò. He made this sharp. Pinatayó ni Hwàn sa kanya ng pálad ang kapatìd nya ng maliìt na si Maryáno. Juan stood his little brother Mariano up on his open hand. Hindí ako pinatúlog nang pagtahòl nang áso. The barking of the dog kept me from sleeping. Patulúgin mo ang báta`. Put the child to sleep. Pinaupú nya ang manga eskwéla. He had the pupils sit down. Pinaupú ko ang áki ng bisíta. I asked my visitors to be seated. Similarly: alìs, balìk, bilì, bútas, díto, hintò`, inòm, káin, kápit, lákad, láyas, lípad, pások, tahàn, takbò, táwad, túlin, túloy, untì`, yáman. (a) With accented pà-: Pàbusugin mò ang manga háyop. Feed the animals till they have had enough. Pàhampasìn mo siyà. Whip him harder. Hwag mò ng pàputiìn ang pintà nang báhay. Don't paint the house too white. (b) pà- with accent shift: Pàdalangin mò ang iyo ng pagparíto. Come here very rarely. 491. pa-pag- (1) -in, p-in-a-pag-. The direct passive has pag- before the root when it corresponds to simple actives with characteristic mag- (§ 351). Màpàpahámak lámang ang báta ng ito, kapag hindí nátin pinapagáral nang sapàt. This boy will turn out a mere good-for-nothing, if we do not make him study enough. Pinapaghubàd nang inà ang kanya ng manga anàk. The mother ordered her children to undress. Pinapagpútol námin nang ságing sina Hwàn. We asked Juan and his people to cut bananas. Papagputúlin mo si Hwàn nang buhòk. Tell Juan to get a hair-cut. Papagpùputúlin nila kamì nang kanila ng manga kawáyan. They will order us to cut all their bamboo. Pinapagsuklày ni Hwána ang kanya ng alíla`. Juana told her maid to comb her (the maid's) hair. Similarly, from: bíhis, hintò`, trabáho. (a) From a derived word: Sya y pinapagkalatimbà`. He was forced to do the well-bucket exercise (kalatimbà`, § 519). (b) With extra accent shift: papagtùtuluyìn (túloy). 492. With pang-: Paráti ng pinapanghàhárang ni Andrès ang kanya ng manga kampòn. Andrés often orders his companions to commit highway robberies. Papanghiramìn mo si Pédro nang lúbid. Have Pedro go and borrow some rope. Papamutúlin mo nang damò si Pédro. Have Pedro cut grass. Papamùmutúlin silà ni Hwàn nang damò. Juan will order them to cut grass. 493. pa-pag-pa- (1) -in, p-in-a-pag-pa-. With both pag- and pa- preceding the root the direct passive with pa- denotes someone caused to cause something: Pinapagpatotoò nang tagapagtanggòl ni Andrès ang táo ng si Mariyáno na syà ng nakàkíta sa nangyáre. Andrés' lawyer called as a witness the man Mariano, who had seen the occurrence (cf. magpatotoò, § 489). 494. i-pa-, i-p-in-a-. The instrumental passive with pa- denotes the object ordered, caused, or allowed to undergo such and such an action. Ipinaálam ko sa kanyà ang manga báta`. I made known to him the departure of the children with me. Ipinaalìs nila ang hárang nang daàn. They ordered the obstruction of the road to be removed. Ang ipinadala mò ng súlat ay tinanggàp ku nà. I have received the letter you sent me. Ang sapátos na may lapàd na suwélas na yitò ay syà ng ipinagàgámit na pangtayò` sa báta`. This flat-soled shoe is given children to be used in learning to stand up. Ang mayáma ng taga iba ng báyan na pàparíto ay ipinahárang nang púno nang tulisàn. The rich stranger who was going to come here was held up by order of the chief of the bandits. Ipinahátì sa ákin ni Pédro ang mansánas. Pedro ordered me to divide the apples. Itò y ipinaháte ni Pédro parà sa ákin. This was ordered by Pedro to be dealt out to me as my share. Isinakày sa trèn ang ipinahatìd mo ng manga dalanghíta`. The tangerines you shipped were put on board the train. Ipinaísip nya sa manga eskwéla ang fétsa nang pagaáway nang manga Rúso at Hapunès sa Port-Àrtur. He asked his pupils to think of the date of the fighting between the Russians and the Japanese at Port Arthur. Ipakíta mo ang díla` sa manggagamòt. Show the doctor your tongue. Ipinapùpútol ni Hwàn ang manga káhoy sa kanya ng bakúran. Juan is having the trees in his yard cut down. Ipapùpútol ko ang manggàs nang áki ng báro`. I am going to have the sleeves of my blouse cut off. Ipapútol mo, Hwàn, ang iyo ng kukò. Have your fingernails cut, Juan. Ang ipinasakày ni Tátay na manga súha` sa trèn ay nangabúlok sa daàn. The grape-fruit Father sent by train got spoiled on the way. Ipinasundú ko kay Hwàn ang médiko. I told Juan to fetch the doctor. Ipinatáwag ko sa alíla` si Hwàn. I had Juan called by a servant. Ipinatayó ni Hwàn ang báhay na itò. Juan had this house built. Ipinatipìd nya sa bátà ang pagkáin nang lansónes. He made the child eat sparingly of the lansones. Ipinatípon ni Hwàn sa kanya ng kàtiwála` ang manga kalabàw. Juan had his agent gather the carabao. Ipinatúluy nya ang pagkantà, káhit na maíngay ang mangà nakíkinìg. He went on with his singing although the audience was noisy. So: áhon, balìk, baòn, bilanggò`, bítay, dápit, dúsa, gamòt, gawà`, gupìt, hábol, háyag, hintò`, hintúlot, kasàl, kilála, lákad, libàng, mána, patày, sákit, tápon, uwì`. (a) Different in meaning is the corresponding form from díto; it is the primary instrumental passive corresponding to pumaríto, etc. (§ 488): Ang pagsákop niyà nang táu ng makasalánan ay sya nyà ng ipinaríto. His saving of sinful man is what he came here for. (b) Accent shift is due to the root: Ipaalàm ka sa kanyà ang áki ng patùtungúhan. Let him know where I am going. Ipinaalam nyà sa ákin ang kanya ng nilóloòb. He made his intentions known to me. Ipinatulòy ni Pédro ang pagpapatayò nang báhay. Pedro had them go on with the construction of the house. Similarly: ábot. (c) With pag- (cf. § 491): ipapagáral. (d) With pa- prefixed to the root, the instrumental passive with pa- denotes that ordered to be caused. The only example has radical accent shift: Ipinapatulòy ni Hwàn sa kanya ng kàtiwála` ang pagtatanìm nang manga kasamà. Juan had his agent order the field-workers to go on with the planting. 495. i-pag-pa-, i-p-in-ag-pa-. When the relation of the object ordered to undergo an action is explicitly that of a thing given forth (§ 368), a kind of double instrumental passive is made by prefixing pag- to the pa- (cf. the explicit use of pag- in primary passives, §§ 369. 375): Ipinagpaháte` sa ákin ni Pédro ang pálay. The rice was ordered by Pedro to be dealt out to me. Ang kwàlta ng nàpangaginàldohan ni Hwàn ay sya nyà ng ipinagpasakày sa tiyobíbo sa kanya ng kapatìd na maliìt. Juan used his Christmas money to treat his little brother to a ride on the merry-go-round. Ang kautusàn ay ipinagpàpatáwag nang kúra. The law is being called out by order of the priest. (a) With additional pa- (as in § 494,d): ipinagpapadalà. 496. i-paki-pa-, i-p-in-aki-pa-. Before a word with pa- the instrumental passive with paki- denotes the thing asked (as a favor) to be caused to undergo such and such an action. Hwag mò ng ipakipapútol ang púno-ng-káhoy, dátapuwat pakiputúlin mo na mìsmo. Don't ask someone else to cut down the tree for me, but cut it down for me yourself. Ipakìkipapútol ni Hwàn sa inyò ang manga tinibàn sa kanya ng bakúran. Juan will ask you to have the banana-stumps in his yard cut down. Ipinakipapútol nya kay Hwàn ang manga damò sa bakúran. He asked Juan to have the grass cut in his yard. (a) The thing asked (as a favor) to be caused to do so and so: Ipinakipakáin lámang niya ang kanya ng anàk hábang sya y walà`. She asked someone else to feed her child while she was away. Ipinakìkipasúso lámang nya kay Maryà ang kanya ng anàk, sapagkàt walá sya ng gátas. She is asking Maria to nurse her child for her, because she has no milk. 497. pa- (1) -an, p-in-a- (1) -an. The local passive with pa- denotes that caused to undergo an action as local object. Paaláman mo sa kanyà kung saàn ka páparon. Let him know where you are going. Pinaasuhàn ni Pédro ang manga púno-ng-manggà. Pedro smoked (i.e. warmed, so as to speed flowering) the mango trees. Pinabayáan ni Hwàn ang kanya ng manga tungkúlin. Juan neglected his duties. Pabayáan mo syà. Leave him alone. Ang pagpatày sa manga magnanákaw ay hindí pinarùrusáhan nang hukòm. The judge does not punish one for killing robbers. Pinahatían akò ni Pédro nang pálay sa kàtiwála`. Pedro had the agent give me my share of rice. Pinahubaràn nang inà ang manga báta`. The mother had her children undressed. Pakinggàn nawá ninyò ang áki ng pagtáwag. Pray give hearing to my call. Pinalìligúan nang pagòng ang ílog. The turtle bathed in the river. Pinalìligúan nang babáye ang báta`. The woman was bathing the child. Hwag mò ng pamaláyan sa marámi na ikàw ay marámi ng kayamánan sa báhay, úpang hwag kà ng nakáwan. Don't let people know that you have many valuables in your house, lest you be robbed. Pinanaúgan nya ang báhay. He went down from the house. Pinaputúlan ni Hwàn nang taínga ang kanya ng manga biìk, úpang hwag máangkin nang iba ng táo. Juan had the ears of his little pigs cut, so that they might not be inadvertently taken by anyone else. Pinapùputúlan ni Hwàn nang buntòt ang lahàt nang kanya ng manga manòk. Juan has all his chickens' tails clipped (for identification). Paputúlan mo nang kaunti` ang mahábà mo ng buhòk. Have your long hair cut a little. Papùputúlan ko nang buntòt ang manga manòk na bágo ng bilè. I shall have the tails clipped of the chickens I have just bought. Ang bangka ng itò ay pinasakyàn ko kay Hwàn. I allowed Juan to ride in this canoe. Pinatunáyan sa ákin ni Hwàn na ikàw ay nagsúsugàl. Juan proved to me that you are gambling. Ano ng bandà ang kanilà ng pinatùtungúhan? What direction are they headed for? So also: bendisiyòn, dalà, hintúlot, hírap, doòn, kinábang, magàt, mána, panhìk, sákit, tábon, tigàs, walà`. (a) Accent shift, due to the root: pabayaàn, equivalent, however, to pabayáan. (b) pà-: Pàagáhan mo ang pagsúlong. Get away very early. Pàináman mo ang súlat. Write very neatly. Pàitiman mò ang kúlay nang túbig. Make the color of the water very black. Hwag mò ng pàputian ang pintà nang báhay. Don't put too much white into the paint for the house. (c) pa- also prefixed to the root: Pinapahatían akò ni Pédro nang pálay sa kàtiwála`. Pedro told the agent to have me given my share of rice. Pinapahatían ni Pédro nang pálay ang manga kasamà. Pedro ordered that the laborers be given their share of rice. 498. Special static words are formed with pà- and -an to denote place or plurality of habitual causative action; barytone roots have accent shift of two syllables, sometimes optionally of one syllable: Ang maliìt na sápa ng itò ay sya ng pàbiyáyan ni Alfònso nang maliliìt na isdà ng nàhùhúli nya sa ílog. This little pool is where Andrés turns loose the little fish he catches in the river. Ang pàlangúyan nang manga páto ni Hwàn ay malálim. Juan's duck-pond is deep. Ang kanila ng pàtagálan nang pagsísid ay ginawá nila sa Sibùl. Their diving-contest took place at Sibol. ang pàrusahàn penitentiary; hell. ang pàliguàn bathroom, bathtub. So also: pàkumpisálan, pàaralàn, pàhayagàn pàhayágan, pàmahalaàn pàmahaláan. (a) Derived from these a transient and abstract in mag-: ang pagpapàtagálan a contesting for endurance. (3) Transients and abstracts with pa- and ka-. 499. mag-pa-ka-, pag-pa-pa-ka-. The active with mag-pa- (§ 489) from words with ka- expresses a reflexive actor: Ang pagpapakahírap sa pagaáral ay máy ganti ng pála`. Exerting oneself at studies has its reward. Nagpakamatày si Lúkas. Lucas committed suicide. Magpápakamatày si Lúkas. Lucas will commit suicide. ang pagpapakamatày the act of suicide. So also from: walà`. (a) From forms with ma-, in more intensive sense than mag- alone (§ 352,c): Ang pagpapakamarúnong serious effort at learning things. With irregularities of accent, as in § 353,a.b.: Sya y nagpakamápuri. He praised himself very much. Sya y nagpakamayabàng. He boasted much. 500. pa-ka- (1) -in, p-in-a-ka-. The direct passive with pa-ka- denotes something caused to be too much so and so: Hwag mò ng pakalalímin ang gawi ng húkay. Don't make the hole you are to dig too deep. Hwag mò ng pakalàlalímin ang hùhukáin mo ng balòn. Don't make the well you are going to dig too deep. Pinakalálim ni Hwàn ang húkay. Juan made the ditch too deep. (a) The form with p-in-a-ka- occurs as special static word: pinakamahàl most expensive, dearest; pinakamúra cheapest. (b) More commonly from words with ma- (§ 454): Si Risàl ay syà ng naging pinakamarúnong na táo sa kapulua-ng-Filipínas. Rizal was the most learned man in the Philippines. pinakamalakàs strongest; pinakamalínis cleanest. So from: búti, hába`, halagà, húsay, kínis. 501. i-kà-pa-, i-k-in-à-pa-. The instrumental passive with i-kà- (§ 417) from words with pa- expresses the thing or circumstance causing someone to be made to do so and so. Ikinàpaalìs sa kanyà sa báhay ni Hwàn ang kanya ng pangungumìt. His petty thievery caused him to be ordered to leave Juan's house, to be dismissed from Juan's house. Ikinàpàpaalìs nila sa kanyà ang kanya ng pinaggagawà ng katampalasánan sa manga háyop. His constant cruelty to the animals is forcing them to dismiss him. Ang kaibigàn nya ng màtúto ay sya nyà ng ikináparoon sa Espánya. His desire to get an education is what made him go to Spain. Baká mo ikàpahámak ang iyo ng pagparoòn. I am afraid your going there may cause you to be unfortunate. Ikàpàpahámak nya ang kanya ng pagsusundálo. His military service will cause him to fall into bad ways. (a) With pag- either before or after the kà- a voluntary actor is implied who is caused to make someone or something do or be so and so. Ang ipinagkàpasakày ni Hwàn sa kanya ng máy sakit na kapatìd sa trèn sa lugàr nang sa karumáta ay ang katulínan nang trèn. What made Juan have his brother ride on the train rather than in a carriage was the speed of the train. Nagpaísip sya sa kanya ng manga eskwéla nang manga paraà ng ikàpagpàpalakè nilà sa kanila ng aklátan. He had his students think of means that would help them to make their library (get) larger. 502. pa-ka- (1) -an. Local passive with pa- (§ 497) from a word with ka- (§ 398): pinakawalàn was allowed to go free. 503. ka-pa- (1) -an. Local passive with ka- (§ 419) from a word with pa- (§ 481): kapàpatungúhan the place one will be headed for. (a) Static words with ka-pa- -an are forms with ka- -an from words with pa-: With S (§ 421): Si Hwàn ang kapàtagálan ni Maryáno sa pagsísid sa túbig. Juan contends with Mariano in staying under water as long as possible. With S (1), (§ 423); accent irregularly placed: Ang báta ng si Pédro ang sya ng kàpakitáan ni Maryà nang kanyà ng larwàn. Little Pedro is the child to whom Maria showed her toys and who showed her his. With (2), (§ 422): Ang kapabayaàn nya sa manga tungkúlin ay syà ng malakì nya ng kapintásan. His neglectfulness of his duties is his great fault. 504. maka-pa-. With maka- in the usual meanings (§ 433 ff.) a few transients are made from words pa-. Nakapahingà sa lílim ang manga kalabàw. The carabao rested in the shade (irrational actor). Bayáan mo ng makapahingà ang manga dalà mo ng kalabàw bágu ka bumalìk sa búkid. Let the carabao that brought you rest before you go back to the country. Makapàpahinga nà ang manga háyop bágo sya dumatìng. The carabao will have rested before he arrives. So from: doòn, lígo`. 505. Commoner is maka-pag-pa- (corresponding to mag-pa-); the abstract has pagkapa-. Nakapagpapútol na akò nang káhoy na gàgamítin ko sa boò ng tagulàn. I have already had wood cut for the entire rainy season. Si Lílay ay nakàkapagpapútol nang káhoy sa alílà ni Kíka`. Lilay has permission to order Kika's servant to cut the wood. Hindí ako makapagpapútol nang tubò kay Hwàn, sapagkàt marámi sya ng trabáho sa ibà. I cannot have Juan cut sugar-cane, because he has already too much work to do for other people. Makàkapagpapútol akò nang labòng, kung iyò ng gustò. I can have some bamboo-shoots cut, if you wish. So from: bilì, kínis, tápon. 506. The passive with ma- from words with pa- varies in meaning, owing chiefly to the various values of words with pa-. (a) Genuine passive: Hindí nya napahinòg ang manga ságing. He did not succeed in getting the bananas to ripen. Mapahíhiram mo ba akò nang lima ng píso ng gintò? Can you let me borrow five dollars gold? Napapások ko sa kuràl ang manga kalabàw. I succeeded in bringing the carabao into the corral. Napatátalim ni Pédro ang mapuròl na gúlok. Pedro is able to sharpen dull bolos. So from: alìs, puntà, sáboy, túlog. (b) Reflexive passive: Ang máy sakit ay napadapà` sa manga nagàalágà sa kanyà, sapagkàt sya hindí makakílos. The sick man had the people who were caring for him lay him on his face, because he could not move. Napagísing si Hwàn sa kanya ng kapatìd sa óras nang alaskwátro nang umága. Juan had his brother wake him up at four o'clock in the morning. Napapások akò sa síne sa áki ng kúyang. I asked my oldest brother to take me to the moving-picture show. Mapapàpások.... I shall ask to be taken in. Silà y napatùtúlong. They are asking for help. So: álam, hatìd, tawìd. (c) Reflexive of interest: Napaakiyàt akò kay Hwàn nang isa ng búnga-ng-nyòg. I asked Juan to climb for a cocoanut for me. Napapútol silà nang káhoy. They asked to have wood cut for them. Napapùpútol ang manga anàk nang kanila ng kukò kay Nánay. The children ask Mother to cut their fingernails. Napapùpútol akò nang gàgawi ng pípa kay Hwàn. I am asking Juan to cut me some wood for a cigarette-mouthpiece. Napatilàd akò nang tubò kay Nánay. I asked Mother to slice me some sugar-cane. (d) Movement: Napabíngit sya sa malaki ng pangánib. He got into a very dangerous situation. Naparíne sa tabi kò ang báta`. The child came up close to me. Ang magkaybíga ng si Pédro at si Maryáno ay naparoòn sa Mayníla`. The two friends, Pedro and Mariano, have gone to Manila. Sya y napaóo. He assented. So from: díto, loòb, salámat, túngo. Also from the derived word luwásan: napaluwásan. 507. Instrumental passive only in: maipabarìl. 508. Passive with mà- (§ 463 ff.) from words with pa-. Bumitìw ang bátà sa lúbid, kanyá nàparapà` ang kanyà ng kahatakàn. As the child let go of the rope, the one who was pulling against him fell on his face. Nàparíto si Hwàn sa kanyà ng pagtatagò` sa manga tiktèk. Juan happened to come here in his hiding from the spies. Nàpàparíto sya ng madalàs. He often gets round here. Màpàparíto raw syà sa báya ng itò. He will get round to our town, he says. Nàpahámak sya sa ginawá nya ng pagsusugàl at pagsasábong. He became good-for-nothing through his gambling and cock-fighting. Nàpàpahámak ang báta ng si Hwàn, dahilàn sa lubòs na pagpapaláyaw sa kanyà nang kanya ng manga magúlang. Little Juan is getting spoiled through his parents' complete indulgence. Hwag kà ng duwàg, Hwàn, at nang hwàg ka ng màpahámak lámang sa iyo ng pagsusundálo. Don't be a coward, Juan, so that you may not merely come to misfortune through your military service. Màpàpahámak lámang ang báta ng itò, kapag hindí nátin pinapagáral nang sapàt. This boy will turn out a good-for-nothing, if we don't make him study enough. Hindí nàpahinòg na maága ni Hwàn ang manga ságing. Juan didn't get his bananas ripe early enough. Hindí nya nàpahinòg ang manga ságing, sapagkàt naúbus agàd. He did not get his bananas ripe, because they were all eaten up too soon. Si Pédro ay nàpàpahingà. Pedro is resting. Nàpatayó si Pédro dahilàn sa kanya ng pagkàgúlat. Pedro leaped to his feet in his surprise. Dahilàn sa kanya ng pagkàgúlat ay nàpaupú siya. In his surprise he fell into his chair. So from: gúlat, halakhàk, hitsà, iyàk, kasàl, lagày, lagpàk, luksò, sigàw, tindìg. (a) Plural with -ang-: Ang manga kalabàw ay nangàpàpahingà. The carabao are resting. So: nangápamanghà`. (b) Accent shift: Nàpagisìng si Hwàn sa kalakasàn nang putòk nang barìl. The report of the gun was so loud that Juan woke up. So: táwa. (c) Abstract, of movements, pagkàpa-. Ang dáhil nang kanya ng pagkàparíto ay ang paniningìl. What brought him here was the collecting of debts. Ang pagkàpalígo nang kabáyo ay marumè. The horse has not been bathed clean. So from: alíla`, doòn. (d) With makà- D (§ 473) from -paríto: Hwag kà ng makàparí-paríto. Don't you ever come round here! 509. Instrumental passive, mà-i-pa-, from: dalà, kilála, kíta, túlos. 510. Local passive, mà-pa- (1) -an. Màpàparusáhan kità. I shall have to punish you. So: kinìg. 511. Special static words with nà-pa-ka- denote something having a high degree of such and such a quality. Ang sákit na iyo ng ipinarùrúsa sa ákin ay nápakabigàt. The grief you cause me is very severe. Nàpakabúte ang kanya ng pagkatákot. Her fear reached a high degree. Ang sakày na táo nang kutséro sa karumáta ay nàpakatabà`. The man the driver has taken into his carriage is very stout. So also: iklì`. (a) From a phrase: nàpakawala-ng-hiyà`. 5. The prefix pati-. 512. pati- before a root expresses that such and such a movement (of one's own person) is suddenly performed. 513. With mag- it denotes the voluntary performer. Barytone roots seem to have accent shift. Ang báta y nagpatihigà` sa sahìg. The child suddenly lay down on the floor. Nagpatihulòg si Pédro sa bintána` sa isa ng pagsumpòng nang kanya ng pagkalóko. Pedro suddenly threw himself from the window in an attack of his madness. Nagpàpatihulòg si Hwàn sa hagdánan kung sinúsumpòng nang kalokóhan, kaniyà` sya y itináli nilà sa isa ng halígi nang báhay. They tied Juan to one of the posts of the house, because when he is assailed by a fit of insanity he throws himself down the stairs. Magpàpatihulòg daw sya mulá sa ituktòk nang kanya ng bìlanggúan úpang sya y makataanàn. He says he will throw himself from the roof of his prison so as to make an escape. Sya y nagpatiluhòd. He suddenly knelt down. Ang pagpapatiluhòd nang báta` ay sya ng nakasakìt sa kanya ng túhod. The boy's throwing himself on his knees is what injured his knee. 514. The passive with mà- denotes the involuntary performer. Nàpàpatihigà` ang báwat mádulàs sa lugàr na itò. Every one who slips at this place falls on his back. Hwag kà ng magpadulàs, sapagkàt baká ka màpatihigà`. Don't slide, for you might fall on your back. Sya y nàpatiluhòd. He fell, landing in a kneeling position. Nàpatiupú sya sa kanya ng pagkádulàs. He fell into a sitting position when he slipped. Nàpàpatiupò` ang báwat táo ng magdaàn sa lugàr na itò, dahilàn sa madulàs na lúmot nang lúpa`. Everyone who comes through this place falls and lands in a sitting position, owing to the slippery moss on the ground. III. Irregular Derivatives. (1) Transients and abstracts of the particles sa and -ging. 515. The particle sa has transient forms as follows: (a) A normal transient: with pà-sa, pá-pà-sa, ná-sa, ná-sà-sa. Nása simbáhan silà. They are (were) at church. Násàsa simbáhan silà nang mangyáre ang súnog. They were at church when the fire occurred. Nang pása simbáhan silà.... When they went to church.... Pápàsa simbáhan silà. They will go to church. Plural: Nangása simbáhan silà. They are (were) at church. (b) An accidental passive (of movement): má-pa-sa, má-pà-pa-sa, ná-pa-sa-, ná-pà-pa-sa-; abstract: pagká-pa-sa. Nang mápasa simbáhan silà ay malálim nà ang gabì. When they got to the church, it was already late at night. Mápàpasa simbáhan silà sa gabì. They will strike the church at nightfall. ang pagkápasa simbáhan a chance coming upon the church. 516. The (transient) forms of -ging are ma-gìng, ma-gí-ging, na-gìng, na-gí-ging; abstract: pa-gi-gìng. Magpùpútol daw nang buhòk ang Intsèk na si Yèng pagigìng binyágan nya. The Chinaman Yeng says he will have his queue cut when he gets baptized. (2) Odd affixes. 517. ba- seems to appear in ba-lasìng. 518. hin-, with irregular nasalization of initials, in one simple derivative: Ang kanya ng himatày ay hindí nalaúnan. Her fainting-fit did not last long (matày). -himagsìk (bagsìk) does not occur, but underlies many derivatives, especially maghimagsìk (§ 352,c) and hìmagsíkan (§ 377,a). Many such underlying forms can be postulated from the various transients with manghin- (§ 357,b). (a) With r: ang hintutúro` the forefinger (túro`). 519. kala- in ang kalaháte` a half; ang kalatimbà` dipping on the heels and rising, hands holding opposite ears (as trick or imposed as a punishment), from háti` and timbà` a well-bucket; these have various further derivatives, see Index. 520. kasing- having such and such a quality in common with something else; hence partly equivalent with ka-: Kasingkúlay nang áki ng báro` ang kanya ng salawàl. His trousers are of the same color as my blouse. Ang bóla ng itò ay kasinglakì nang itlòg. This ball is the same size as an egg. Si Hwàn ay kasingpantày ni Pédro. Juan is of the same height as Pedro. 521. mala- (Spanish ?) derogatory: ang malasutsòt a young lout, a half-grown boy (literally: a bad whistler). 522. pala- expresses extreme tendency to such and such an action: (a) pala- S -in, from oxytone roots: Sya y isa ng palabintángin. He is very distrustful. Ang manga isdà y palabùlúkin sa tagáraw. Fish easily spoil in the hot season. ang palalungkútin a melancholy person, palapùtákin a fowl given to cackling, palasumbúngin tattle-tale, palasutsútin one who is always whistling, palatuntúnin one who is always trying to follow up his stolen property, palatuwáin palatwáin one who is easily amused. From root with shifted accent: palasàkítin person who is always getting sick. Irregularly: palahùníhin an animal given to neighing, chirping, etc. Lack of secondary accent: palaiyákin a cry-baby. (b) pala- (2) -in, from barytone roots: palagalitìn a hot-head, palagisingìn a poor sleeper, palagutumìn one who is always getting hungry, palagulatìn nervous person, palahilawìn a kind of rice that is hard to cook through; Palaputulìn ang manga tingtìng nang walìs na ytò. The fibres of this broom are very brittle. palatakutìn a timorous person. (c) palà- -an the place for such and such a thing: ang palàisdáan a fish-pond, palàsingsíngan the ring-finger, the fourth finger, palàtuntúnan a set of rules, rules of order. 523. ta- in ta-gílid the side; with retraction of accent: -talíkod. 524. tag- in names of seasons: tagáraw, tagulàn, the two Philippine seasons; ang taglamìg cold weather, the (American) winter. With accent-shift: taginìt the hot season. 525. taga- person whose duty it is to do so and so, especially upon some particular occasion: ang tagaalìs nang gwarnisyòn nang kabáyo the one detailed to unharness the horses, tagabílang accountant, counter, tagaíkid sa gawaàn nang lúbid the one who rolls up a rope in the rope-factory; Ikàw ay tagainùm lámang. Your job here is only to drink; so: tagakáin one whose only duty is to eat. Tagapútol nang káhoy ang katungkúlan niyà. He is delegated to cut wood. tagasúlat the one who does the writing; tagatahè` one who does the sewing. So from: húli, sulsì. (a) With pag-: tagapagbigày, tagapagtanggòl. (b) With pag-pa- one whose duty it is to oversee the doing of so and so: ang tagapagpaalìs nang tapòn nang manga bóte head bottle-opener; tagapagpainùm sa fiyèsta bartender at a fiesta; Isa ng tagapagpainùm ay isa ng tagapagbigày nang inumìn sa manga háyop o manga báta`. So: ang tagapagpakáin who gives food to animals or children, tagapagpalígo` who bathes children or horses, tagapagpasúlat head writer, tagapagpatotoò witness. 526. tara-, tra- is felt to be a prefix in: ang táo ng tarabúko, trabúko a bald-headed person, felt as derivative from búko smooth, unripe cocoanut. 527. -éro (Spanish) as suffix of agent; final vowel (or vowel plus n or glottal stop) is lost: bangkéro, sabungéro, sipéro (sipéros, plural); from derived word: Katipunéros (ka-tipún-an, § 423); from compound word: básag-uléro a brawler, ruffian (básag-úlo). (3) Pronoun forms. 528. The various forms of the pronouns and objectivizing particles show some regular derivation. (a) n- with irregularities, for disjunctive forms: n-ang, n-i (si), n-inà n-ilà (sinà silà), n-íno (síno), n-irè, n-itò, n-iyàn, n-oòn (iyòn, yaòn); n-ità (kità), n-iyà (siyà), n-ilà (silà). From the prepositive form: n-átin, n-ámin, n-iniyò. Similarly, the particle nawà`, root áwa` pity. (b) ka- for local and prepositive forms: ka-y (si), k-inà (sinà); from the disjunctive form: ka-níno, ka-nità, ka-niyà. ka-nilà. (c) With si compare sí-no, with ang, a-nò. (d) Local equivalents of the demonstrative pronouns (treated as separate roots): d-íne (irè), d-íto (itò), d-iyàn, d-oòn. (e) Words of manner with ga-: ga-áno, gá-no (anò), ga-yòn (iyòn). From disjunctive forms: ga-nitò, ga-niyàn, ga-noòn. Cf. also gáya like. Of similar formation: Ang butò nang haláma ng itò y gabútil nang pálay. The seed of this plant is as large as a grain of rice (bútil a kernel of grain). (f) saàn (for sa anò?) is felt as a simple word. III. LIST OF FORMATIONS. The formations with irregular affixes (515 ff.) have been omitted from this list. The following regular features have been ignored: (1) Prefixes beginning with n-; these are the actual-mode forms of prefixes beginning with m-, and are treated in the same paragraphs as the latter. (2) Forms with doubling or reduplication of the root; also those with accented reduplication (of root or prefix) expressing durative aspect; these are treated in the same paragraphs as the corresponding forms without reduplication. (3) Secondary accent, when not peculiar to prefixes. (4) Variations in position of accent. The numbers refer to paragraphs. A. FORMS WITHOUT PREFIX. (1) No affix: 332. 336. 338. 341-346. 348. 358. (2) Suffix only: -an 31. 334,c. 374. 377-381. -anan 377,b. -han, -hanan see -an. -hanin, -hin see -in. -in 334,c. 359. 367. -inan 377,b. -nan see -an. -nin see -in. (3) Infix only: -in- 334,b,1. 359. 365. 366. -in- -um- 359,a. -um- 348. 349. 358. (4) Infix and suffix: -in- -an 374. -um- -in 359,a. B. FORMS WITH PREFIX. i- 31. 334,a,2.b,2. 368. 373. i- -in- 368. ika- 413. 416. ikà- 417. ikàpa- 501. ikàpag- 418. ikàpagpa- 501,a. ikin ... see ik ...; the -in- expresses actual mode. ini- see i- -in-. ipa- 494. ipag- 369-371. ipag- -an- 369,a. ipagka- 414. 415. ipagkàpa- 501,a. ipagma- 370. ipagpa- 495. ipaki- 394. ipakipa- 496. ipakipag- 395. ipang- 372. ipapang- 394,c. ipin ... see ip ...; the -in- expresses actual mode. ka- 31. 76. 77. 179. 183. 334,a,2. 398. 400-402. kà- 403. ka- -an 419. 421-426. kà- -an 428. 430. 431. ka- -anan 423,b. ka- -anin 421,a. ka- -in- 412. kàka- 399. 404. kamag- 398,a. kamag- -an 423,b. kamaka- 398,a. kapa- -an 503. kàpa- -an 503,a. kapag- 400,a. 486,c. kapang- 400,b. kapang- -an 421,b. 423,b. kapàpa- 486,b. kay- see ka-. kina- 412. kina- -an 419. kinà- -an 260. 503. kinà- -anin 421,a. kinapa- -an 503. kuma- 404. ma- 438 ff. 444. 449. 454. mà- 463 ff. 469. ma- -an 451. mà- -an 475. ma- -in 457. mag- 34. 334,a,1. 350. 353-356. 358. mag- -um- 352,c. mag- -an 352,d. mag- -in 352,d. 358,a. magka- 405. 408. 409,a. magkà- 410. 411. magka- -an 427,a,c. magkà- -an 430. magkaka- 409. magkaka- -an 427,d. magkinàka- 412,a. magma- 352,c. 353,a. magmà- 353,b. magmaka- 453,a. magpa- 489. magpà- 489,d,e. magpa- -um- 489,b. magpà- -an 498,a. magpaka- 499. magpakama- 499,a. magpakamà- 499,a. magpapa- 489 f. magpati- 513. magsi- 385. magsipa- 488,d. magsipag- 386. magsipag- -an 386,b. magsipagka- 406. magsipagpa- 489,a. magsipang- 387. mài- 474. maipa- 507. màipa- 509. maipag- 450. maipang- 450. maka- 433 ff. 444. 453. makà- 458 ff. 469. 473. 479. màka- 470,a. maka- -an 443. 454,c. màka- -an 488. makapa- 504. makapag- 445. 447. makapagpa- 505. makàpaki- 473,a. makapang- 448. makapang- -in 448,b. maki- 390. makipag- 391. makipag- -an 391,a. makipagka- -an 427,b. makipang- 392. mang- 334,a,4. 357. 358. màng- 358,e. f. mang- -in 357,a. manga- 442. mangà- 467. manga- -an 421,a. mangagsi- 385,a. mangagsipag- 386,a. mangaka- 442. mangàka- 442. 470,b. mangàpa- 508,a. mapa- 506. màpa- 508. màpa- -an 510. mapag- 446. 455. màpag- 471. mapag- -an 452. màpag- -an 476. màpagka- -an 488,a. nàpaka- 511. mapang- 454,c. 456. màpang- 472. màpang- -an 477. màpati- 514. pa- 207. 481-484. 487. pà- 487,d. 515,a. pa- -an 497. pà- -an 497,b. 498. pa- -in 490. pà- -in 490,a,b. pag- 34. 274. 334,a,1. 348-356. pag- -an 352,d. 375. pag- -anan 375,b. pag- -in 352,c. 360-363. pag- -um- 352,c. pagka- 274. 404. 433, ff. 444. 453,b. pagkà- 274. 458 ff. 469. pagka- -an 420. pagkà- -an 429. pagkaka- 405. 406. 407,a,b. pagkakà- 410. 411. pagkàka- 470,a. pagkaka- -an 427,a. pagkakà- -an 430,a,b. pagkàpa- 508,c. pagkapag- 445. 447. pagkàpag- 471. pagkapang- 448. pagkapang- -in- 448,b. pagmama- 352,c. 353,a. pagmamà- 353,b. pagpa- 488. pagpapa- 489. pagpapà- -an 498,a. pagpapa- -um- 498,b. pagpapaka- 499. pagpapakama- 499,a. pagpapakamà- 499,a. pai- 481,a. paka- -an 502. paka- -in 500. paki- 389. paki- -an 396. paki- -in 393. pakiki- 390. pakikipag- 391. pakikipag- -an 391,a. pakikipagka- -an 427,b. pakikipang- 392. pakipag- -an 396,b. panu- see pang-. pang- 334,a,4. 347. 357. pang- -an 376. pàng- -an 383. pang- -in 357,a. 364. 367,b. pàng- -in 367,c. panganga- -an 421,a. 422,a. pangpa- 486,a. papa- 485. pàpa- 488. papa- -an 497,c. papag- -in 491. 491,b. papagpa- -in 493. papang- 492. pau- see pa-. pin... see p...; the -in- expresses actual mode. puma- 488. INDEX OF WORDS. The words are arranged by roots, in accordance with the speech-feeling, so far as ascertainable. The forms díne, díto, diyàn, doòn have, however, been given separate places. In using the index the sound-variations described in § 334 should be kept in view. The forms are given with fullest accentuation and vocalism (iy for y, uw for w after consonant), regardless of actual occurrence. For e see i, for o see u. Foreign r is under d, f under p, v under b. The brief indication of meaning after each form ignores shades of meaning that would require long definitions; so especially factors of involuntary or completed action and of ability (ka-, maka-, ma-) and of accident or ability due to external causes (kà-, makà-, mà-). The references to occurrence have been limited by considerations of space; the numbers refer to page and line; when in heavy type, to paragraphs of the Grammatical Analysis. The following abbreviations are used: arch.: felt as archaic. C.: Chinese. disj.: disjunctive form. E.: English. excl.: exclusive. id.: the same meaning. incl.: inclusive. intr.: English definition to be taken in intransitive sense. loc.: local. n.: name. pl.: the Tagalog form is an explicit plural. prep.: prepositive. S.: Spanish [11]. tr.: English definition to be taken in transitive sense. A a- see anò, ang. abà ah 151(14). abakà S. hemp 237(37). -abála: pagabála a bothering; see Corrigenda. nangabála made trouble 239(29). kaabalahàn trouble 302(14). -abàng: umabàng watch for 226(23). umáabàng is lying in wait 64(41). nakaabàng is on guard 48(12). ábito S. vestment 98(20). abéynte-kuwátro S. twenty-fourth 110(11). abúbot belongings 118(23). -ábot (a) overtake: abútan be reached 92(19). 299(38). inabútan was overtaken 52(42). 84(34). 250(30). inàabútan is being reached 301(34). paábot let oneself be overtaken 301(21). paaábot pl. 46(11). nagpaábot let himself be overtaken 52(28). --(b) with accent-shift; reach for, take: umabòt reach for 231(5). 237(20). reached for 231(6). umáabòt reaches for 62(14). pagabòt a reaching for 231(7). nagáabòt is handing 237(17). pagaabòt a handing 237(19). inabòt was taken 30(10). ináabot is being reached for 246(3). iyabòt be handed 249(13). iniyabòt was handed 30(13). 106(21). iniyáabòt is being handed 249(12). kaàbútan one of two who hand to each other 278(4). maabòt he reached 286(28). maáabòt will be reached 20(27). naabòt was reached 286(27). pagkaabòt a reaching for see Corrigenda. náabòt was reached 296(13). pagkáabòt a reaching for see Corrigenda. paabòt caused to be handed 300(23). nagpaabòt caused to be handed 304(21). ipinaabòt was caused to be handed 52(11). -ága: umága morning 50(40). 62(36). 66(25). 120(19). 163(23). 190(24). 241(39). 262(5). inùumága is being overtaken by morning 245(42). magpaumága let oneself be overtaken by morning 304(18). agáhan be done early 250(30). maága early 312(27). paága early rice 300(3). pàága be very early 301(36). pàagáhan be done very early 308(36). agàd soon 32(22). 42(31). 48(26). 265(1). agàd-agàd immediately 36(5). 48(37.40). 265(1). ágaw that snatched 220(17). agàw snatched 222(16). umágaw snatched 226(24). inágaw was snatched 250(11). agawàn a grabbing together 260(3). pagaagawàn a scrambling 108(25). nagsìsipagagawàn are scrambling 108(24). naàágaw can be seized 40(8). makàágaw seize 108(31). aginàldo S. Christmas present; as n. 118(6). nàpangaginàlduhan was given as a Christmas present 298(26). 307(21). ágos stream 16(3). umàágos is streaming 44(42). àguwa-bindíta S. holy-water 96(28). áhas snake 120(21). -áhit: pangáhit razor 232(17). nangáhit did shaving 167(2). inahítan was shaved 250(32). -áhon: umáhon go up 116(18). went up 226(25). umàáhon is going up 110(20). àáhon will go up 263(26). pagáhon a going up 226(27). nagsiáhon went up, pl. 118(13). ipinaáhon was caused to go up 120(16). akála` opinion 20(8). 98(15). 271. pangakála panukála` thought 16(9). 224(40). 226(1). nagakála` thought, planned 24(17). 50(13). inakála` was thought 18(17.24). inàakála` is being thought 11(86). -ákap: nààákap is embracing 66(40). -ákay (a) lead: umàákay is leading 22(31). inákay was led 26(36). (b) with accent-shift inakày young of animal 102(20). 247(13). ákin prep. and loc. of akò: my, me, by me 165. 169. 182. -akiyàt: umakiyàt climb 22(39). climbed 16(15). áakiyàt will climb 22(36). pagakiyàt a climbing 24(6). nagsísiakiyàt are climbing 108(31). àakiyatìn will be climbed 16(15). makaakiyàt be able to climb 108(28). makaákiyàt will be able to climb 22(37). maakiyàt be able to be climbed 16(13). náakiyàt got carried up 295(3). paakiyàt ask to be climbed with or for; caused to be climbed or climbed for; climbing up 106(14). 299(6.37). 301(22.29). paáakiyàt will ask to be climbed with or for 301(38). 302(1). napaakiyàt asked to be climbed for 311(37). aklàt book 154(28). aklátan library 210(12). See báhay. -akmà`: inakmaàn was prepared for 70(29). akò I 16(17). 152(14). 63. Cf. ákin, ko. áko` person relieved 220(19). pangáko` 233(35). mangáko` promise 44(13). ináko` was pledged for 220(19). 243(31). ipinangáko` was promised 34(10). pagkapangáko` a having promised 44(22). 287(29). alaála souvenir, present 72(37). 221(3). pangalaála memory 116(24). alalahánin be minded 104(33). àalalahánin will be minded 243(34). inàalaála is being remembered 243(32). naalaála was remembered 202(36). nàalaála was recalled 30(16). 72(23). 100(13). nààalaála is remembered. màalaála be recalled 86(3). paalaála caused to be given as a souvenir 299(8). pagpapaalaála a causing to be remembered 292(22). -alága`: nagàalága` is attending to 311(28). alagàd assistant 114(12). aláhas (S.) jewelry 102(24). álak wine, liquor 221(6). -alala see alaála. -álam (a) know: màláman be known 22(35). 298(9). màlàláman will be known 42(37). nàláman was known 26(32). nàlàláman is known 24(32). màpagaláman be generally known 60(35). paálam causing himself to be known (as leaving) 183(17). ipinaálam was caused to be known (as leaving) 32(9). 306(4). paaláman be made known 308(3). paàaláman will be made known 42(35). napaálam caused himself to be known (as leaving) 54(12) --(b) with accent-shift: alàm known 300(32). makialàm interfere 58(42). 264(18). pinakialamàn was looked after 265(32). 290(32). kaalàm accomplice 267(1) and Corrigenda. nakààalàm knows 42(14). pagkáalàm a knowing 82(9). 272(6). nàalamàn got known 118(1). 298(14). màpagalamàn get generally known 118(42). 298(24). ipaalàm be given out to be known 307(3). ipinaalàm was given out to be known 307(4). alasìngko S. five o'clock 180(7). alasès S. six o'clock 122(6). alaskuwátro S. four o'clock 172 (42). magàalaskuwátro will be four o'clock 66(34). alastrès S. three o'clock 66(32). álat salty 218(37). kaálat kayálat what saltiness 267(34). kaalátan saltiness 267(27). -álay: iniyálay was offered 16(5). áli aunt, madam 118(14). 151(36). 59. 256. magáli aunt and niece or nephew 242(1). alikabòk dust 245(26). maalikabòk dusty 289(1). alíla` servant, domesticated 54(7). 62(32). aliláin be domesticated 106(40). pagkàpaalíla` a making a servant of oneself 104(2). alìn which? 22(37). 48(18.25.36). 97. alìn-alìn pl. 97. alintána in spite 277. inalintána was paid attention to 88(29). alípin slave 90(36). -alipustà`: alipustaìn be mistreated 72(39). alìs go away 192(36). umalìs go away 52(22). went away 20(36). áalìs will go away 192(2). pagalìs a going away 108(22). nagsísialìs are going away 114(27). nangagsialìs went away, pl. 120(39). inalìs was removed 30(10). iniyalìs was removed 248(6). alisàn be removed from 250(33). àlísan a going away together 257(23). nagàlísan went away together 236(14). nagààlísan are going away together 96(15). ikinaalìs was the cause of going away 271(41). makaalìs be able to go away 78(11). makaáalìs will be able to go away 42(38). 281(25). nakaalìs has gone away 282(21). pagkaalìs a having gone away 80(3). mààalìs will be removed 96(34). papaalìs going away 300(39). pinaalìs was caused to go away 32(34). pinaáalìs is being caused to go away 64(23). ipinaalìs was caused to be removed 70(4). 306(5). mapaalìs be able to be caused to go away 122(21). ikinápaalìs was the cause of ordering to go away 310(5). ikinàpàpaalìs is the cause of ordering to go away 310(8). tagaalìs remover 315(33). tagapagpaalìs head remover 316(1). alitaptap firefly 40(15). Alfònso S. n. 309(6). -alsà S.: pagaalsà a raising 70(2). altàr S. altar 96(17). aluwági (S.) carpenter 56(35). pagaaluwági carpentry 58(2). amà father 30(26). 59. magamà father and child 242(2). magaamà father and children 242(27). amaìn uncle 247(26). magamaìn uncle and nephew or niece 242(25). ináamà godfather 247(17). ámin prep. and loc. of kamì: our, us, by us excl. 165. 169. námin disj. of us, by us 163. umámin confessed 226(28). àamínin will be owned up to 243(36). inàámin is being owned up to 243(35). Amérika S. America 189(29). amerikána S. European coat 281(5). Amerikáno S. American 56(30). -ampàt: maampàt be able to be stopped 46(8). 259(30). -ámo` (S. ?): inámo` was caressed 84(32). inamù-amò` was repeatedly caressed 86(4). ámong (S.) sir, Father 20(37). 50(40). -ámot sell, of other than professional merchant: umámot sold 226(30). inamútan was sold to 246(41). an see anò. -ának: magának family 165(17). 242(17). kamagának relative 54(22). 266(34). kamaganákan clan 112(26). 277(14). angkàn one's family 112(19). 260(39). anàk son, daughter 30(25). panganàk infant 54(6). kapangànákan birth, birthday 275(43). panganganàk a giving birth 220(24). naipangánganàk has just been born 36(16). 288(4). Andrès S. n. 26(30). Andòy S. short-n. 208(1). áni harvest 191(32). -ánib: pangánib danger 46(15). mapangánib dangerous 289(21). umánib make one's sleeping-mat overlap 226(30). iyánib be made to overlap 248(7). magkaánib overlapping each other 269(38). ánim six 52(44). 67. pangánim number six 225(38). ikaánim ikánim sixth 273(17). makàánim six times 298(32). -anínaw: inanínaw was scrutinized 66(19). aniyáya invitation 219(28). inaniyáhan was invited 250(34). inàaniyáhan is being invited 203(26). aniyò` aspect 20(12). nagáaniyò` is behaving 40(40). pagaaniyò` behavior 108(33). antimáno S. beforehand 20(39). 262(1). antòk sleepiness 84(14). nagáantòk is sleepy 231(42). nakapagáantòk causes to get sleepy 108(8). anò, an what? what kind of? 18(6). 22(21). 97. 179. 190. 264. anò-anò pl. 114(16). 97. nanganò did what? 239(29). páno how? 155(21). 300(8). papáno how? 18(11). 301(1). gaáno gáno how great? 28(2). 316(28). 190. 247. See also saàn. anúnas S. custard-apple, Anona reticulata L. 76(19). Ánong S. short-n. 286(38). ang the, a 45. 61-71. 75. 78. 108. 109. 115. 116. 119. 126. 130-133. 161. 168. 196. 246. 248. 253. nang disj. the, a, of the, by the; when 45. 119. 116-194. 253. 317(2). 340. 341 (3,d). -angk see -ának. angkìn appropriated 60(20). umangkìn appropriate 226(32). angkinìn be appropriated 62(6). 243(39). inangkìn was appropriated 16(8). ináangkìn is being appropriated 243(37). máangkìn get appropriated 308(20). ápat four 24(37). 67. àápat only four 116(16). ápat-ápat four at a time 223(41). pangápat number four 225(36). ikaápat ikápat fourth 82(16). makàápat makàípat four times 298(36). Áfrika S. Africa 189(4). -apt see atìp. apòy fire 22(6). inapuyàn was inflamed 94(29) and Corrigenda. áral doctrine 140(31). 223(23). umáral arch. teach morals 233(22). magáral study 18(7). 209(13). magàáral will study 217(28). nagáral studied 30(5). nagàáral is studying 90(31). 233(22). pagaáral a studying 28(3). magsipagáral study pl. 262(34). nagsìsipagáral are studying 38(5). arálan be taught morals 250(36). aralàn study-room 238(6). pagarálan be learned 168(1). pinagarálan was studied 18(14). pinagàarálan is being studied 255(4). makapagáral be able to study 34(33). pinapagáral was caused to study 305(19). ipapagáral be used for causing to study 88(11). pàaralàn school 26(32). aráro S. plow 232(2). pagaaráro a plowing 232(1). magaaráro plowman 242(38). ararúhin be plowed 243(40). áraw sun, day 16(11). 66(1). See also madalì`, kalaháti`. áraw-gabì day and night 94(31). 257. 331. áraw-áraw every day 58(7). 331. kaarawàn holiday 110(17). tagáraw sunny season 34(27). 315(29). arày ouch 151(15). ári` that owned 42(2). 220(22). See also máy. nagàári` owns 40(17). pagaári` possession 62(24). 102(31). maári` be possible 168(18). maàári` will be possible 16(27). 46(12). naári` was owned, became possible 104(12). 285(29). naàári` is possible 152(18). pagkaári` possibility 80(30). aritmétika S. arithmetic 82(1). àrmas armàs S. arms 106(26). 235(4). arsubìspo S. archbishop 96(10). artísta S. artist 90(10). ása expectation 72(7). 209(24). pagása hope 56(19). 76(13). -ásal: inásal conduct 34(24). asanà` (S. ?) a tree, Pterocarpus Indicus Willd. 263(25). asáwa husband, wife 30(39). 34(5). magasáwa take a wife 78(38). married couple 30(25). 242(4). magàasáwa will take a wife 232(2). nagasáwa took a wife 80(6). pagaasáwa the taking a husband or wife 80(27). 92(9). ásim sourness 297(10). maásim sour 289(1). asìn salt 30(11). asnàn be salted 250(37). aspilè S. pin 260(7.21). áso dog 18(8). inàáso is being chased 243(41). naáso has been chased 284(9). nàáso got chased 292(42). asò smoke 64(33). asuhàn chimney 261(10) and Corrigenda. pinaasuhàn was smoked 308(4). asúkal S. sugar 198(31). asùl S. blue 122(2). kayasùl what blueness 267(35). asuwàng vampire 34(30). magasuwàng-asuwángan play vampire 237(9). magàasuwàng-asuwángan will play vampire 237(7). nagasuwàng-asuwángan played vampire 34(26). at t and; for, that, though 15. 20. 37. 45. 49. 213. 289. 306. 312. 317. átas that prompted 98(33). iniyátas was enjoined 54(42). ataòl S. coffin 116(1). atè (C.) oldest sister 59. 256. magatè oldest sister with brother or sister 242(5). átin prep. and loc. of táyo: our, us, by us, incl. 165. 169. nátin disj., of us, by us 163. atìp roofing 118(27). pangatìp shingle 224(40). aptàn be roofed 250(38). átis custard-apple, Anona squamosa L. 76(20). atísan grove of átis trees 261(10). atsára sour preserves 163(17). 299(11). áwa` (a) pity 46(22). kàwáwa` piteous 80(12). 267(29). ikinaáwa` was the cause of pitying 272(1). naáwa` pitied 285(16). pagkaáwa` a pitying 285(40). nagmàmakaáwa` is calling forth pity 44(11). 288(36). (b) accent shifted: awà` overcome by pity 222(17). kaawaàn be the object of pity 182(39). kinaàawaàn is the object of pity 275(1). nawà` pray 47. 225. -áway: nagàáway is fighting 232(4). pagaáway a fighting 306(18). nakipagáway fought along 264(24). nakìkipagáway fights along 264(21). kaáway enemy 18(11). kaàáway there has just been quarreling 267(12). mapagawày quarrelsome 186(33). màpagáway be matched 297(10). áwit song 280(39). awítan be sung to 250(38). magàwítan sing together 183(11). nagààwítan are singing together 236(27). ay y is; then 15. 20. 37. 45. 49. 89. 119. áyap condiment 244(2) and Corrigenda. nangáyap ate relishes 239(31). ináyap was used as a condiment 244(1). paáyap given to be used as a condiment 299(12). nagpaáyap served a relish 302(28). áyaw (a) not desired 30(5.37). 40(30). 239. 267. pagáyaw unwillingness 226(32). (b) accent shifted: umayàw refused, left the table 231(12). pagayàw refusal 94(17). 231(9). nakaayàw has left the table 286(25). pagkáayàw dislike 70(13). áyon according to 40(3). 278. umáyon agreed 30(4). nakaáyon has come to be in accordance 281(3). paayòn conforming 300(13). áyos formation 48(4.15) 90(11). mapagáyos be able to be straightened 287(6). mapàpagáyos will be able to be put into shape 287(7). B(V) bà interrogative particle 47. 215. 223. 229. 299. -bába` (a) bumába` became low 226(35). kababáan lowness, south 62(15). 163(26). 241(19). mabába` low, humble 104(27). 289(2). (b) Accent shifted: babà` low; come down 223(16) and see páko`. bumabà` descended 36(35). ibabà` south 56(24). 163(26). See also bandà. -bábag: bàbábag will fight 226(37). nagbábabàg are fighting each other 237(25). pagbababàg a fighting together 252(14). nakipagbabàg fought along 264(37). -bábaw: bumábaw became shallow 258(40). ibábaw top surface 66(28). kababáwan shallowness 88(30). mabábaw 88(26). 220(8). babáyi babái female, woman 30(32). 163(13). nagbabá-babayíhan played woman 237(14). báboy pig 36(13). -badiyà: náibadiyà got spread abroad 24(33). bagà really? 22(21). 47. 216. 290. 219. 317(3). -bagábag: nabagábag grew uneasy 120(37). -bágal: mabágal slow 18(4). bágay thing, circumstance 28(1). 36(22). bágay-bágay various things 116(33). ibinàbágay is being adapted 248(9). nàbàbágay is suitable 78(34). bagiyò hurricane 273(8). -bagsàk: ibinagsàk was dropped 271(24). -bagsìk: mabagsìk violent 42(3). 44(30). mababagsìk pl. 102(19). maghimagsìk come to violence 314(27). naghimagsìk came to violence 236(5). nagsipaghimagsìk revolted, pl. 263(12). nanghimagsìk resorted to violence 241(18). nagsipanghimagsìk pl. 263(30). hìmagsíkan internal warfare 258(13). 314(28). naghìmagsíkan fought each other 236(23). nagsipaghìmagsíkan pl. 263(13). paghihìmagsíkan internal warfare 52(42). 116(12). panghihìmagsíkan id. 241(11). bágo new; before 18(37). 36(32). 291. kabàbágo newly 54(6). nabàbágo has been changed 64(35). bahà` flood 98(17). 110(23). bumábahà` there is a flood 110(19). pagbahà` a flooding 110(21). bahági part 82(17). bahagiyà slight 201(21). báhay (a) house 34(21). See also kápit, tánod. báhay-aklátan library-building 210(11). báhay-báta` womb 210(23). báhay-gúya` womb of animal 210(24). báhay-pàhayagàn newspaper-office 210(25). báhay-pàmahaláan government building 292(21). Báhay-paníki place-n. 210(25). báhay-pintáhan paint-house 210(26). báhay-sangláan pawnshop 252(22). báhay-tùlúyan inn 112(38). bahày-bahày various houses 52(15). 110(36). magbáhay build a house 232(5). pamamáhay household 70(26). kabahayàn house containing several dwellings 120(3). furnishings of a house 276(5). --(b) Accent shifted: bahày tame, shy 222(19). nabábahày is shy 286(29). baìt good conduct 165(1). kabàítan kindness, virtue 74(41). mabaìt well-behaved 84(11). mababaìt pl. 34(35). báka S. cow 112(40). bákal iron 201(30). 220(5). bakàs mark, in: bakàs-súgat mark of a wound 46(6). bakasiyòn S. vacation 26(35). -bakìl: bakìl-bakìl uneven 220(2). bákit why? 18(7). 236. bakiyà` sandal 245(20). bákod fence 266(6). pangbákod used in making a fence 225(2). bakúran be fenced in 250(40). yard, grounds 34(38). bákol open bamboo basket without handle 74(5). bála any 186(18). 271(22). 66. 132. bála S. bullet 52(36). balahíbo fur 212(18). baláe person whose son or daughter one's daughter or son has married; old friend 207(35). 266(5). magbaláe two people whose children have intermarried 242(8). 269(42). magbabaláe pl. 240(28). kabaláe one's baláe 266(2). magkabaláe two fellow baláe 269(40). bálak plan 287(11). binálak was planned 18(34). bálang locust 267(27). balàt skin, shell 16(18). 30(10). báli S. matter, harm 52(6). 42(5). balatàn be peeled 200(24). báli` break 219(29). ipinagkákabalè` is the cause of breaking in numbers 273(7). makabále` be able to break 281(26). nabále` was broken 284(32). nabàbále` is interrupted 104(4). mabalían be broken in 70(18). nabalían was broken in 62(27). -balìk: bumalìk come back 66(17). 233(17). came back 20(40). bábalìk will come back 32(27). bumábalìk is coming back 66(24). magbalìk come back to 233(18). nagbalìk came back to 72(11). 283(4). pagbalikàn be come back to 255(5). pagbàbalikàn will be come back to 32(28). 255(5). makabábalìk will be able to go back 56(31). pabalìk going back 299(13.27.39). pagpapabalìk a causing to go back 48(20). pinabalìk was caused to go back 68(41). ipinabábalìk is being sent back 48(7). balíkat shoulder 48(19). balíta` that reported; famed 34(29). 36(2). magbalíta` relate 42(24). nagbalíta` related 118(35). pamamalíta` a relating of stories 102(12). ibalíta` be reported 88(39). ibinalíta` was reported 32(8). ipamalíta` be related 275(18). ipinamalíta` was related 22(27). binalitáan was narrated to 250(42). pagbabàlitaàn a reporting by many 102(13). pinakibalitáan was ascertained by report 102(42). 265(30). nàbalíta` got related 46(18). nàbàbalíta` gets related 48(26). pagkàbalíta` a getting narrated 272(42). màbalitáan be learned by report 56(18). nàbalitáan was learned by report 38(12). Balíwag place-n. 173(9). See báyan, daàn. balúbad casoy, Anacardium occidentale L. 76(20). baluktòt crooked 218(38). balú-baluktòt variously bent 290(33). bumaluktòt bend; bent 226(39). 233(25). magbaluktòt bend in quantity 233(24). pagbabaluktòt a bending 48(15). balòn a well 24(37). -bálot: bumálot roll up 226(40). 233(27). magbálot roll up in quantity; wrap oneself up 233(26). magbalòt roll up variously 52(21). nagbalòt rolled up variously 52(35). nagsipagbalòt pl. 118(13). nabálot has been wrapped up 284(10). nabàbálot is wrapped up 36(39). nàbálot got wrapped up 198(8). 255(40). bambò club 70(17). pangbambò club for beating 225(2). nangbábambò is beating 239(32). bambuhìn be beaten 70(29). binambò was beaten 72(10). -banàl: kabànálan act of piety 78(33). banáyad gentle 48(17). bànda S. band, orchestra 48(31). bànda-ng-músika band of music 48(30). bandà direction 18(22). bandà ng ibabà` south mábandà-ng-ibabà` get turned towards the south 296(21). bandà ng kaliwà`, kánan see dúlo. bandà ng kataasàn north nàbàbandà-ng-kataasàn is turned toward the north 296(20). bandáhin direction headed for 294(24). bandíla` S. flag 234(14). banìg sleeping-mat 62(35). bantày watcher 80(18). bantày-pálay rice-guard 228(17). bantày-pintò` door-keeper 78(31). magbantày stand guard 38(14). pagbabantày a guarding 36(18). bantayàn be guarded 251(2). bantáyan sentry-box 248(16). Bantòg family-n. 165(17). bangàn granary 270(33). -banggìt: binanggìt was mentioned 90(23). nábanggìt got mentioned 50(11). bangkà` canoe 20(3). mamangkà` go boating 28(12). magsipamangkà` pl. 263(21). namámangkà` is boating 20(2). nagsísipamangkà` pl. 98(17). pamamangkà` a boating 239(32). pagbabangkáan boating-party 112(13). bangkéro boatman 80(34). 316(11). bangkày corpse 46(30). bàngko S. banking-house 227(18). bangkò` S. bench 30(29). -bangò`: mabangò` fragrant 278(15). pabangò` perfume 222(38). -bángon: nagbàbángon is getting up 70(36). kabàbángon there has been getting up 267(13). bapòr S. steamship 56(24). -barà: barà-barà unruly 273(37). baráha S. cards 173(3). baráso S. arm 138(31). barbéro S. barber 24(35). barìl gun 36(20). nagsipamarìl went shooting, pl. 28(25). pamamarìl a shooting 230(9). pinagbábarìl is being shot 56(26). barìl-barílan toy-gun 261(35). 293(18). maipabarìl be caused to be shot 52(23). 312(9). nábarìl got shot 56(29). báriyo S. district of a town 70(11). báro` blouse 205(20). magbarò` put on one's clothes 237(26). pamamáro` clothing 110(33). -bása: pagbása reading 227(3). binása was read 299(18). binàbása is being read 172(6). basáhan be read to 251(2). basahàn reading-room 137(16). mabása be able to be read 186(2). nabása has been read 244(3). 284(11). màbása get read 52(12). nàbása got read 86(19). 293(2). pabása gospel-reading ordered by a communicant 251(13). -basà`: nagsísipagbasà` are getting themselves wet 110(23). nakabasà` caused to be wet 201(22). básag a breaking, in: básag-úlo a head-smashing, free-for-all fight 262(7). básag-uléro ruffian 316(13). basàg broken 30(10). mabásag be broken 30(8). 283(21). 284(35). nabásag has been broken 296(14). màbásag get broken 293(4). -bastà`: nagbastà` packed up 232(5). pagbabastáan a packing up together 118(17). báso S. drinking-glass 137(39). báta` boy, girl 30(33). See also báhay. bináta` young man 90(28). pagkabáta` childhood 86(22). 285(41). batalàn platform of house 72(14). Bathála` God 54(42). 59. -bátis: nagbàbátis is fording 104(42). binátis was forded 244(4). batò stone 30(7). 220(4). binatò was stoned 303(30). báo cocoanut-shell 108(32). 163(13). báo widower, widow 163(29). 256. nabáo was widowed 80(29). 285(29). baòl S. box, trunk 268(8). báon provisions 28(27). -baòn: pagbabaòn a burying 54(29). mábaòn get buried 54(17). magpabaòn cause to be buried 54(24). ipinabaòn was caused to be buried 54(30). báwal forbidden 218(39). báwang garlic 36(22). báwat every 24(40). 48. 66. 132. 246. -báwi`: bàbawíin will be taken back 244(4) and Corrigenda. ikinabáwi` was the cause of being taken back 272(3). -báya` (a) bayáan be permitted 46(37). 48(13). binayáan was permitted 78(31). binàbayáan is being permitted 286(38). paubáya` permitted 300(9). magpàpabáya` will be neglectful 106(32). nagpabáya` was neglectful 302(29). pabayáan be left alone 308(7). pinabayáan was left alone, not interfered with 168(23). 169(42). 308(6). (b) Accent shifted: pabayà` neglectful 300(25). kapabayaàn neglectfulness 310(39). pabayaàn be permitted 52(8). 237(29). 308(34). bayábas see biyábas. báyad payment 54(9). báyad-útang debt-payment 178(29). bayàd paid 222(22). magbáyad pay 54(23). nagbáyad paid 232(6). bàbayáran will be paid to 54(29). binayáran was paid 54(11). binàbayáran is being paid for 74(3). pagbayáran be settled with 54(32). pagbàbayáran will be settled for 58(27). pinagbayáran was settled for 255(6). pinagbàbayáran is being atoned for 74(21). makabàbáyad will be able to pay 114(41). báyan town, district 22(27). See also kápit, táo. báya-ng-Balíwag the town of Baliuag 20(3). báya-ng-Kamálig 92(15). báya-ng-Malólos 38(5). báya-ng-Marikína 96(38). báya-ng-Mayníla` 256(30). báya-ng-San-Migèl 50(14). bayàn-bayàn various towns 50(8). namàmáyan is dwelling in a town 50(34). kababáyan fellow-townsman 60(12). 267(3). 291(37). magkababáyan two or more fellow-townsmen 26(31). 270(10.17). makabáyan patriotic 288(30). bayàw wife's brother, sister's husband 54(8). magbayàw two men, one of whom has married the other's sister 242(9). -báyo: ibáyo far side 80(36). -bayò: pangbayò pestle 225(3). magbayò pound rice 232(7). magbabáyo rice-pounder 242(40). bayúgin a tree, Pterospermum 237(39). bayòng palm-leaf sack 74(5). bíbas jester 98(30). bibìg mouth 30(20). Bigaà place-n. 116(25). bigàs hulled rice 104(15). magbigàs hull rice 232(8). magbibígas rice-dealer 242(41). bigasàn be supplemented with rice 251(3). containing uncooked rice 261(10). bìgásan rice-mill 203(3). Bìgása-ng-Sumúlong-at-Kasamahàn Rice-Mill of Sumulong and Company 210(34). bigàt weight 226(36). kabigatàn heaviness 158(12). nakabíbigàt is making heavy 32(10). mabigàt heavy, grave 58(34). mabibigàt pl. 118(22). pabigàt weighting 110(7). nápakabigàt too severe 313(10). bigày that given 220(24). bigày-loòb favor 210(27). pagbibigày-loòb a doing favors 60(23). 235(26). nagbigày gave 76(35). nagbíbigày is giving 60(38). pagbibigày a giving 50(30). ibigày be given 42(43). ibíbigày will be given 16(28). ibinigày was given 20(14). ibiníbigày is being given 40(11). bigyàn be given to 26(2). bìbigyàn will be given to 74(42). binigyàn was given to 32(15). bìgáyan receiver 258(22). kabìgáyan one of two who give to each other 277(36). mapagbigày over-indulgent 289(25). tagapagbigày hander-out 315(41). -bigkàs: nagbíbigkàs is pronouncing 231(24). biníbigkàs is being pronounced 98(38). biglà` suddenly 82(40). pabiglà` in sudden manner 68(10). bigtì strangled 223(24). bumigtì strangled 227(3). pagbigtì a strangling 227(4). nagbigtì strangled himself 233(29). pagbibigtì a strangling oneself 233(29). bigtihìn be strangled 22(22). bigtíhan gallows 279(19). béha cigarette-stub 205(21). bíhag captive 233(1). bihása` skilled 46(12). bihíra` seldom, rare 40(26). 42(21). 72(29). 106(39). 110(29). 112(13). magkàbihíra` occur at odd times 114(27). 271(9). bíhis that donned 220(26). bihìs dressed up 222(23). nagbíhis dressed himself up 232(10). nagbìbíhis is dressing himself up 32(37). 96(21). magsipagbíhis dress up, pl. 262(35). makapagbíhis have dressed oneself 96(24). pinapagbíhis was ordered to dress himself 32(14). biìk young pig 72(36). -bilà`: kabilà` other side 16(23). 266(6). magkábilà` be on both sides 16(7). 271(11). bílang number 24(5). bilàng counted 222(24). pagbílang a counting 285(24). bìbilángin will be counted 24(4). mabílang having a number 114(1). pagkàbílang count 291(2). tagabílang counter 315(34). bilanggò` prisoner 258(24). ibíbilanggò` will be put into prison 100(28). ibinilanggò` was put into prison 248(12). bìlanggúan prison 201(31). nábilanggò` got jailed 38(2). 198(1). ipabíbilanggò` will be caused to be put in prison 100(15). bilàs wife's sister's husband 242(11). magbilàs two men whose wives are sisters 242(10). biláo large flat basket 74(5). 108(17). bilì that bought 308(26). bilì nang bilì keeps buying 177(8). pangbilì used for buying 255(34). bumilì buy 120(19). pagbilì a buying 223(21). magbilì sell 249(22). nagbilì sold 233(30). nagbíbilì is selling 233(31). pagbibilì a selling 252(19). namilì bought in quantity 239(33). namímilì is shopping 249(9). bìbilhìn will be bought 203(18). binilì was bought 163(40). pinamilì was bought in quantity 246(41). ipagbilì be sold 98(36). ipinabilì was sold 249(21). ipinagbíbilì is being sold 74(8). binilhàn was bought from 251(5). pinagbilhàn was sold to 255(8). bìlíhan market 258(24). ikabilì be the cause of buying 186(10). nakábilì happened to buy 56(38). màbìbilì will get bought 203(37). pabilhìn be caused to buy 34(5). makapagpabilì be able to cause to be bought 286(39). bílin commission, errand 221(27). -bilmìt: pamilmìt used as fish-pole 249(28). bílog circle 112(2). bilòg rounded, round 222(25). bumílog turned on a lathe 227(6). namílog turned 188(26). binílog was turned 244(5). binìbílog is being turned 244(6). kabilúgan roundness 38(17). 152(17). 276(27). nàbìbílog gets turned 293(36). pabilòg in a circle, spherically 46(40). 48(4). 110(41). -bendisiyòn S.: magbendisiyòn give blessing 96(26). nagbébendisiyòn is blessing 98(3). pagbebendisiyòn a blessing 54(32). binèbendisyunàn is being blessed 114(19). pagkabendisiyòn a having blessed 64(29). pagkábendisiyòn a having chanced to bless 56(8). pabendisyunàn be caused to be blessed 54(17). bendíta S.: holy 96(25). -biniyàg: nagbíbiniyàg is baptizing 98(2). binyágan person baptized 314(20). bintána` S. window 70(30). bintàng suspicion 36(29). nagbintàng suspected 38(24). pagbintangàn be suspected 20(9). pinagbintangàn was suspected 16(21). nàpàpagbintangàn gets suspected 20(35). palabintángin given to suspicion 315(7). bingì deaf 86(23). 167(8). ikinabingì was the cause of being deaf 295(17). nakabíbingì causes deafness 219(42). nábingì got deaf 295(12). bíngit edge, brink 180(34). bumíngit went to the brink 227(7). ibiníngit was put on the edge 248(13). biningítan was approached up to the brink 251(7). kinàbìbingítan is been on the brink of 52(31). napabíngit go to the brink 312(2). birtùd S. occult quality 60(10). bíro` joke 220(27). pangbibíro` a joking 40(39). biróke S. blow-gun bullet 212(31). bèsbol E. baseball 48(2). nagbèbèsbol is playing baseball 135(28). bisìg arm, stick 70(28). 84(10). bisíta S. visitor, visitors 305(5). chapel 251(13). bísiyo S. vice 163(21). 221(14). bistày sieve 74(5). magbibistày screener 242(38). bitàk crack 32(5). -bitàw: binitàwan was let go of 66(34). 254(24). mangákabitàw relax their hold 78(15). -bítay: ipabítay be caused to be hanged 52(6). bitbìt that carried by a part of it 122(2). binitbìt was carried 52(37). pagkábitbìt the way of holding 253(24). -bitìw: bumitìw let go 174(22). bitíwan be let go of 76(10). 254(25). binitíwan was let go of 44(22). pinagbitiwàn was variously let go of 256(16). mabitíwan be let go of 44(21). 288(23). bitúka intestine 38(30). bitóke (S.) blow-gun bullet 212(31). biyábas bayábas S. guava, Pisidium guayava L. 236(17). 256(38). 283(11). magsìsipamiyábas will go guava-picking, pl. 263(22). -biyábit: nangakabiyábit were hanging 34(28). -biyábo: pagbibiyábo swinging the feet 232(11). pinagbìbiyabúhan is being swung on 255(10). -biyàk: biniyàk was split 244(7) Corrigenda. kabiyàk half, side 112(40). Biyàrnes-Sànto Biyernesànto S. Good Friday 20(1). biyátiko S.: viaticum 98(3). biyày that given liberty in a closed space 220(27). nagbiyày set loose 232(13). nagpabiyày caused to be set loose 302(20). pàbiyáyan place for giving temporary liberty 88(26). 309(6). Viyóla S. family-n. 277(16). bóbo clown 241(34). -bubòng: bubungàn roof 38(22). bubuwìt a kind of mouse 224(27). -budbòd: ibinudbòd was strewn 32(18). bugtòng riddle 222(3). nagsìsipagbugtúngan tell each other riddles 114(32). bugòk rotten, crazy 218(40). buhángin sand 68(4). kabuhangínan beach 68(4). -búhat: bumúhat lifted 189(34). buhátin be lifted 283(29). búhay life 18(10). See also hánap. buhày alive 92(19). namùmúhay is leading a life 104(27). pamumúhay way of living 30(30). ikabùbúhay will be the means of living 34(25). kabuháyan livelihood 32(12). mabùbúhay will live 58(30). nabúhay lived 285(29). nabùbúhay is living 72(17). pagkabúhay a coming to life; staple food 285(41). 288(38). pagkàbúhay a lucky bringing to life 291(36). búho` slender bamboo, Dendrocalamus 18(3). buhòk hair 24(31). buhòl knot 274(29). magbuhòl tie a knot 232(14). -búhos: ibinúhos was poured 30(20). búkas tomorrow 88(13). 262(2). kinàbukásan when the next day came 48(41). 190(27). 279(24). bukàs opened 223(26). bumúbukàs is opening, intr. 227(10). magbukàs open, tr. 228(35). pagbubukàs an opening, tr. 26(31). buksàn be opened 78(30). binuksàn was opened 78(31). bùkásan aperture 84(43). mabuksàn be opened 86(1). 120(21). nàbuksàn came open 22(2). 188(9). búkid field, estate, country 38(8). 74(1). 90(7). bukirìn estate, fields 92(35). búko unripe cocoanut 316(8). tarabúko trabúko bald-headed 316(7). bukòd beside, in addition to 54(5). 279. magkabukòd two separately 269(43). magkakabukòd pl. 279(9). -búkol: bukulàn covered with bumps 62(26). nagkàkabúkol is getting bumps 62(16). bóla S. ball 46(38). -búlag (a) nakabùbúlag is causing blindness 280(35). màbúlag get blinded 255(38). (b) Accent shifted: bulàg blinded, blind 22(29). nábulàg went blind 296(16). búlak cluster of capoc cotton 247(2). Bulakàn place-n. 110(13). 260(5). bulaklàk flower 189(2). -bulìd: ibinulìd was pushed off 26(7). bulsà S. purse 112(21). -búlo: kabuluhàn importance 42(15). makabuluhàn important 271(16). 289(23). bulòk rotten 218(40). nangabulòk became rotten, pl. 306(27). palabùlúkin easily decaying 315(8). -bulòng: kabùlúngan one of two who whisper together 277(38). pabulòng in whispers 114(5). bundòk mountain 116(18). See also paà. namundòk took to the mountains 52(38). pamumundòk a living in the mountains 52(42). buntìs pregnant 36(17). buntòn heap 116(34). buntòt tail, train 240(41). 244(40). 253(8). buntútan tail-end 72(3). -bunò`: nagbunò` wrestled 66(32). nagbúbunò` is wrestling 86(40). pagbubunò` a wrestling 252(25). nakipagbunò` engaged in wrestling 66(27). kabunò` person with whom one wrestles 66(34). -búnot: bunòt plucked up 225(26). cocoanut-fibre 221(11). bumúnot plucked up 227(11). nagbunòt plucked up in quantity 237(27). búnga fruit; betel-fruit 16(15). 247(3). búnga-ng-káhoy fruit of a tree 36(1). magbúnga bear fruit 16(12). bungánga` maw 212(35). bungbòng piece of unsplit bamboo 110(31). -búrol: ibinùbúrol is being laid in state 112(30). kinàbùburúlan is being lain in state in 114(4). busábos slave 90(36). bóses S. voice 74(19). Bùstos S. place-n. 100(12). See also lúpa`. busòg satiated 223(27). pàbusugìn be well fed up 305(10). bútas hole, hollow space 86(11). 104(10). bútas-karáyom needle's-eye 22(27). bumútas make a hole 86(5). binútas was pierced 106(20). makabútas have made a hole 86(8). nabútas has been perforated 86(8). nàbùbútas gets perforated 106(37). pinabútas was caused to make a hole 86(9). bóte S. bottle 120(22). búti goodness 218(23). butíhan be done well 220(10). ikinabúti was the cause of improvement 287(43). kabutíhan excellence, advantage 58(2). 62(3). makabùbúti will cause to improve 28(35). nakabùbúti causes to be well 226(33). mabúti good, well 16(9). mabubúti pl. 102(5). nàbúti got better, reached a high point 294(22). 295(12). pinakamabúti best 230(10). nàpakabúti extreme 313(11). botikáriyo S. apothecary 54(2). bútil kernel of grain 316(33). gabútil as large as a grain 316(31). -bóto S.: bumóto voted 227(13). butò bone, seed 42(5). 108(7). boò` buò` whole, entire 34(29). 66. 98. 261. -buwàl: nagbuwàl felled 199(25). 232(14). ibuwàl be felled 178(33). ibinuwàl was felled 270(27) nabuwàl has been felled 253(4). 294(5). buwàn moon, month 38(18). 110(13). buwìs interest on money 227(18). buwísit repulsive 98(16). 219(1). binuwísit was annoyed 58(26). kinàbùbuwisítan is being abhorred 94(27). D(R) daàn raàn hundred 52(43). 17. 134. daàn way, road 32(3). daà-ng-Balíwag road to Baliuag 220(3). magdaàn pass by 68(7). nagdaàn passed by, past 24(40). 76(36). nagdádaàn is passing by 26(11). pagdadaàn a passing by 254(20). idaàn be left on the way 248(15). dinaanàn was run over, was called for on the way 251(9). 254(29). dinaánan was assailed 254(25). dinàdaánan is being assailed 254(27). pinagdàdaanàn is being gone through 30(30). 82(7). pinagdaánan was traversed 32(24). 256(10). dàánan usual route 258(26). nagdàdàánan are passing on the way 234(31). makaraàn have passed 16(11). nakaraàn has passed 18(38). pagkaraàn a having passed 24(11). nakáraàn nakádaàn came upon 18(32). paraàn manner, means 42(12). dagà` rat 84(20). -dagàn: dinaganàn was lain upon 44(38). magkádagàn be one on top of the other 270(24). magkàkàdagàn will be one on top of the other 270(26). nagkádagàn were one on top of the other 270(30). nagkàkàdagàn are one on top of the other 270(33). nagkàkàdagàn-dagàn pl. 108(24). dágat sea 110(19). dagàt-dagátan lake 261(34). dágok blow with the fist 256(23) pinagdadagukàn was variously struck at 84(21) and Corrigenda. pinagdàdadagukàn is being variously struck at 256(22). dáhil cause 16(4). 78(33). 143(15). 206(10). 280. dahilàn cause 22(6). 280. nagdàdahilàn is alleging as cause 187(10). dáhon leaf 16(9). nagdàdáhon is putting out leaves 232(16). dáing that laid open 250(37). daìng laid open 222(29). dináing was laid open 244(7). -daìng: dumádaìng is complaining 40(41). -dáka: pagdáka immediately 18(42). karáka-ráka at once 207(20). 267(30). pagkaráka at once 288(40). 265(5.9). dála fishnet 240(7). dinála was caught with the net 244(8). dalà that borne 34(22) 38(27.34). dumalà bear up 233(16). dumádalà is bearing up 227(14). magdalà bring, carry 106(32). 233(17). nagdalà brought 28(27). nagdádalà is bringing 48(33). 72(35). 233(32). pagdadalà a bringing 251(12). dalhìn be carried 32(2). dàdalhìn will be carried 34(4). dinalà was carried 56(24). dinádalà is being carried 40(19). dalhàn be carried to 251(11). makadádalà will be able to carry 178(39). nakapagdalà was able to bring 286(35). nakapagdádalà nakapápagdalà nakákapagdalà is able to bring 286(36). madalà be able to be carried 16(4). 283(25). madádalà will be able to be carried 34(31). nadalà was able to be carried 283(22). nádalà got carried off 293(6). nagpadalà caused to be carried, sent 264(3). pagpapadalà a sending 48(17). ipadalà be sent 22(19). ipinadalà was sent 90(32). 306(7). ipinadádalà is being sent 74(6). ipinagpapadalà were repeatedly sent 58(25). 307(26). pinadalhàn was sent to 58(6). máipadalà get sent 58(19). dalága young woman 36(26). dalamháti` grief 219(31). pagdadalamháti` a grieving 74(13). pakikipagdalamháti` a grieving along 112(26). kadalamhatían grief 276(28). dalandàn orange 76(20). -dálang: dumálang became infrequent 26(10). madálang infrequent 289(4). padalángin be made infrequent 304(35). pàdalangìn be made very infrequent 305(14). dalanghíta` tangerine 294(28). -dalángin: panalángin prayer 94(33). -dalàs: dumádalàs is growing frequent 68(16). kadalasàn frequency, frequently 40(40). 186(22). 262(4). madalàs frequent 46(24). 269(1). dálaw visitor 112(29). dumálaw paid a visit 64(9). dumàdálaw pays a visit 112(36). nagsìsidálaw pl. 112(25). pagdálaw a visiting 86(28). dalawà see -lawà. dalì` hasten 221(41). dálì-dáli` very quickly 34(1). 224(13). daliàn be done quickly 251(12). madalì` quick, soon 94(28). 102(11). 166(16). madalì ng áraw: nagmàmadalì-ng-áraw it is dawning 235(21). --magmadalì` be quick 34(9). magmámadalì` will hurry 235(38). pagmamadalì` a hurrying 293(11). dalíri` finger 185(21). -dalò: dumalò come for a purpose, to aid 34(1). 38(11). 304(1). nagsísidalò are coming 114(36). daluhàn be succored 58(39). dinaluhàn was attended 100(18). 251(14). dáma S. checkers 266(12). -damàg: magdamàg the whole night 190(35). damdàm feeling 102(16). 219(32). dumamdàm felt 227(15). 233(37). magdamdàm feel oneself hurt 233(34). dináramdàm is being regretted 82(9). 244(10). damdámin feeling, emotion 276(29). makiramdàm spy out 264(4). karamdáman illness 207(31). nakáramdàm felt 68(3). 292(32). nakàràramdàm is feeling 42(43). nàramdamàn was felt 201(26). nàràramdamàn is being felt 70(6). dámi multitude 112(21). 267(27). dumámi grew in number 60(32). dinamíhan was made numerous 251(15). karamíhan numerousness, majority 34(33). 198(9). 66. 132. marámi many 20(13). 28(27). 69. 71. 99. 110. 138. damìt garment, cloth 52(22). 169(2). pananamìt clothing 32(33). 219(14). damò ramò grass 76(28). See also kalabàw, púno`. dinamuhàn was cut grass from 251(16). damúhan grass-field 18(33). 259(17). dámot stinginess 268(5). kaydámot karámot what stinginess 268(5). kaydámot-dámot what great stinginess 268(4). karamútan stinginess 34(18). marámot stingy 60(22). mararámot pl. 112(8). -dániw?: karaniyúwan karaniyúan usual, usually 36(15). 40(9). 262(6). dangàl honesty, honor 218(26). karàngálan honoring 90(13). -dapà`: dumapà` lay down on his face 227(17). nagdàdapá-dapáan pretends to fall on his face 108(18). nagkangdadápa` sustained repeated falls on his face 70(35). 269(29). nagkàkangdadápa` is falling repeatedly on his face 269(31). nakadapà` is prone 281(12). nárapà` fell on his face 295(30). Corrigenda. pagkárapà` a falling on one's face 295(39). napadapà` had himself laid on his face 311(27). náparapà` fell on his face 312(11). dápat necessary, fitting 22(1). 36(9.20). 268. karapatàn due, right 276(8). marápat deserving 80(20). nàràrápat is appropriate 80(13). 276(29). Rafayèl S. n. 270(5). -dápit: pagdápit a calling for 114(39). ipinadàdápit is being caused to be called for 114(18). -dápo`: dumápo` struck, landed 16(31). pagdápo` a hitting, landing 64(31). 68(16). dinapúan was landed on, was hit 96(28). 251(18). daràs adze 58(14). pagdaràs a chopping with the adze 60(3). darasìn be trimmed with the adze 58(17). dinaràs was trimmed with the adze 58(32). pinagdarasàn was variously hewn off 58(17). Daruwìn E. family-n. 245(9). -dasàl (S.): magdasàl say prayers 78(37). nagdádasàl is saying prayers 64(36). nagsísipagdasàl pl. 114(30). pagdadasàl a praying 104(4). pinagdàdasalàn is being prayed in 104(17). dàsálan rosary 76(43). dátapuwat but 16(4). 318. 322. dáti formerly; since long ago 44(23). 64(18). 262(3). paráti often 18(8). 30(28). 262(12). -dátig: kadátig karátig bordering on, next to 256(32). 266(9). magkarátig bordering on each other 270(2). nàkàkarátig borders on 296(27). -datìng: dumatìng arrive 18(37). arrived 20(14). nagsidatìng pl. 118(34). 232(1). dumáratìng is arriving 18(35). dáratìng will arrive 52(2). pagdatìn an arriving 48(12). 56(25). datnàn be reached 56(32). dinatnàn was reached 46(3). dinàratnàn is being reached 64(7). karáratìng there has been arriving 151(31). makaratìng have arrived 82(38). 100(1). nakaratìng has arrived 34(21). màdatnàn be come upon 88(36). -dáos: pagdadáos a performing 20(5). idáos be performed 264(32). idináos was performed 274(15). idinàdáos is being performed 92(24). 114(29). dàw ràw he says, they say 17. 47. 217. -dáya`: magdàdáya` will cheat 18(24). dáyap the lime 76(20). dì` not 38(17). 237. 239. 301. -ribàl S.: karibàl rival 46(21). dibdìb the chest 212(9). -dikdìk: dikdikìn be crushed 16(25). dikìn mat on which dishes are set 221(32). dikìt blaze 220(30). pangparikìt kindlings 158(10). -dikìt: idinikì was pasted 52(10). dikóla S. (de cola) train 262(41). díla` tongue 251(21). 306(21). diláan be licked 251(22). diniláan was shown the tongue (as insult) 251(20). -dílat: nadílat came open 24(24). -dilàw: madidilàw yellow, pl. 291(19). -dilìg: pangdilìg implements for sprinkling 225(4). nangdídilìg is sprinkling 239(34). pangdidilìg a sprinkling 239(35). diligìn be sprinkled 244(11). dilìm darkness 36(5). dumilìm it grew dark 52(29). pagdilìm a growing dark 36(32). kadilimàn darkness 72(1). madilìm dark 40(15). Del-Pilàr S. family-n. 241(25). relòs S. watch 137(41). dimóniyo S. demon 40(5). dìn rìn also, again 18(16). 17. 47. 218. 221. 227. 238. 239. 262(11). dindìng, see dingdìng. díne ríne loc. of irè: here 316 (27). 17. 47. 263. nàrìrinè is here 74(21). paríne come here 301(33). pumaríne come here 302(8). naparíne came here 312(3). -dinìg: makárinìg hear 24(18). nakárinìg heard 20(19). 292(33). márinìg be heard 28(19). nárinìg was heard 20(41). nàrìrinìg is being heard 114(12). pagkárinìg a hearing 18(13). 176(41). dingdìng dindìng wall 62(20). Risàl S. family-n., Rizal 275(43). desgrásiya S. misfortune 276(39). -distíno S.: idinistíno was assigned to the parish 96(2). nàdistíno got assigned 50(9). retáso S. patch 239(10). -retráto S.: retratúhan be photographed 281(14). díto ríto loc. of itò: here, hither; to him 16(4). 18(22). 316(27). 17. 47. 263. 280. nàrìritò is here 70(26). 184(36). 203(6). pumàparíto comes here 204(18). pàparíto will come here 302(11). 306(11). pagparíto a coming here 203(5). pinàparíto is being sent here 104(20). ipinaríto was come here for 307(1). naparíto came here 44(9). napàparíto comes here 191(16). màparíto get here 184(35). màpàparíto will get here 312(15). nàparíto got here 312(13). nàpàparíto gets here 312(15). pagkàparíto a getting here 313(1). makàparí-paríto never come here 313(3) Corrigenda. -díwang: nagdíwang celebrated 275(43). pagdiríwang a celebrating 90(13). ipinagdìdíwang is being celebrated 110(12). 249(23). diyàn riyàn loc. of iyàn: there, thither, from there 182(27). 316(27). 17. 47. 263. náriyàn went there, was there 191(14). pápariyàn will go there 302(13). diyáriyo S. newspaper 284(11). Diyégo S. n. 100(40). Diyòs S. God 64(4). 182(40). 59. -dugtòng: idinugtòng was said in continuation 80(28). 102(19). dugò` blood 22(8). nagdudugò` bled profusely 88(28). 282(38). pagdudugò` a bleeding 46(8). -dúkit: dumúkit carved 88(8). pangdudúkit sculpture 90(3). mangdudúkit mandurúkit carver, sculptor 86(18). 104(8). dukítin be carved 90(11). dinúkit was carved 90(9). -duklày: nagdùduklày-duklày keeps blurting out 114(15). doktò S. learned man 168(9). -dúkot: idinùdúkot is being scooped out 110(2). dúlang low table 252(1). -dulàs: madulàs slippery 313(41). mádulàs slip 313(35). pagkádulàs a slipping 313(39). magpadulàs let oneself slide 313(36). pagpapadulàs a letting oneself slide 294(29). dúlo end 16(7). dúlo-ng-bandà-ng-kaliwà` left-hand end 274(28). dúlo-ng-bandà-ng-kánan right-hand end 211(1). dulúhan end part, back yard 34(38). Romanìsmo S. Romanism 56(14). -dumì: pagdumì defecation 42(4). marumì dirty 94(7). 219 (36). Don-Nasáriyo S. n. 116(26). dúnong knowledge 28(15). karúnong what wisdom 173(42). karunúngan wisdom 276(30). marúnong wise, knowing, knowing how to 16(1). 26(1). 269(8). pagmamarúnong a pretending to be wise 167(29). pagpapakamarúnong a making oneself wise 309(24). pinakamarúnong wisest 309(40). marurúnong pl. 48(10). nagparúnong caused to be educated 90(40). -dungò: nagdúdungò is shy 285(17). dúro` stitch 224(1). durúin be pricked 244(1). durúan be stuck into 251(22). a spit 221(8). duruàn place for sticking 260(6). -dúrog: dinúrog was crumbled 32(18). dúsa suffering 245(18). pagdudúsa a suffering 76(24). parúsa punishment 16(28). nagpàparúsa is causing to suffer 42(9). pagpaparúsa a causing to suffer 42(16). ipinarùrúsa is being caused to be suffered 313(10). parusáhan be punished 16(22). parùrusáhan will be punished 16(24). pinarusáhan was punished 292(19). pinarùrusáhan is being punished 222(18). 233(1). 308(8). pàrusahàn place of punishment 74(21). 309(12). màpàparusáhan will get punished 22(5). 313(6). rosáriyo S. rosary 104(4). magrosáriyo pray a rosary 104(17). Rúso S. Russian 306(19). doòn roòn ron loc. of iyòn: there; to him, to it 18(40). 38(17). 316(27). 17. 47. 263. dumoòn go there 20(26). magkaroòn get, have 96(3). nagkaroòn got, had 24(35). 52(30). 268(25). kinàdòroonàn is been in 74(33). 90(18). 279(13). nároòn nàndon got there, is there 36(33). 193(15). 39. 468. nàròroòn is there 42(36). 74(12). 264(10). paroòn go there 301(33). pumaroòn go there 20(15). went there 76(27). páparoòn will go there 88(13). 207(30). 302(18). pagparoòn a going there 72(40). 302(16). parunàn be gone to 70(34). pinaroonàn pinaronàn pinarunàn was gone to 46(4). 138(37). ikináparoòn was the cause of going there 310(11). makaparòn be able to go there 100(16). naparoòn went there 20(23). 312(5). pagkáparoòn a getting there 300(9). -doòp: pinagdódoòp were brought together (hands) 96(8). duwàg coward 312(22). kaduwágan cowardice 116(14). duwènde S. dwarf, elf 30(24). Dòytsland E. n. of a ship 268(29). G. -gaàn: magaàn light, easy 48(2). 255(2). gaáno, see anò. gabì night, evening 36(2). See also áraw. gabì-gabì every night 62(38). 331. ginágabì is being overtaken by night 244(12). kagabì last night 190(15). 259. gága madwoman 44(25). gagambà spider 262(23). -gálang: magálang polite 237(19). 289(5). -gálaw: paggálaw a moving 192(20). gáling coming from 40(5). 193(18). nanggáling came from 193(22). nanggàgáling is coming from 193(22). pinanggalíngan was come from 256(30). pinanggàgalíngan is being come from 32(30). kagàgáling there has just been coming from 267(14). galìng skill 58(6). gumalìng got well 54(10). magalìng skilful; well 46(29). 269(2). magagalìng pl. 94(32). pagpapagalìng a causing to get well 42(22). gálit (a) anger 22(15). ikagálit be the cause of anger 195(39). ikinagálit was the cause of anger 303(24). kinagalítan was the object of anger 274(15). kinagàgalítan is the object of anger 40(36). nagálit got angry 16(20). nagàgálit gets angry 106(28). pagkagálit a getting angry 176(39). nàkagalítan happened to be the object of anger 52(40). 298(28). magpagálit cause to get angry 98(32). palagalitìn hot-head 315(18). --(b) Accent shifted: galìt angry 177(39). kagalìt at odds 266(39). nagkagalìt had a falling out 269(19). pagkakagalìt a falling out 155(27). 269(19). nagkagá-kagalìt got angry at each other, pl. 269(25). kàgalítan quarrel 236(36). 279(34). pagkakàgalítan a quarreling together 222(42). 279(39). -gambála`: nagambála` was disturbed 284(36). nàgambála` was unintentionally disturbed 293(8). gámit that used 46(39). gamìt used, second-hand 183(15). gumámit use 58(14). used 94(4). gumàgámit is using 202(17). paggámit a using 56(37). gamítin be used 161(20). gàgamítin will be used 234(22). ginámit was used 60(26). ginàgámit is being used 40(35). gamítan be used on 58(16). kagamitàn use, employment 36(23). 120(15). magámit be able to be used 20(5). 74(7). 283(26). nagámit was able to be used 230(14). nàgámit was accidentally used 293(10). pagkàgámit the way of using, chance ability to use 240(3). 291(40). ipinagàgámit is being caused to be used 306(9). gamòt medicine 54(9). panggamòt means of curing 46(14). gumamòt cure 46(13). gumágamòt is curing 46(16). paggamòt a curing 42(15). manggagamòt manggagámot physician 28(24). 44(28.30). 243(10). panggagamòt curing 42(25). gamutìn be treated 46(23). ginamòt was treated 46(4). ginágamòt is being treated 290(13). ipinagamòt was caused to be treated 54(8). -gána S.: gumàgána is earning 227(18). ganà concern 98(6). 281(25). 198. gandà beauty 70(11). magandà beautiful 48(15). 152(3). magagandà pl. 72(19). nagpápagandà is causing to be beautiful 48(18). ganitò, see itò. ganiyàn, see iyàn. gantì that given in return 90(12). 200(33). 272(11). gantì ng pála`: gumantì-ng-pála` return favors 231(14). gumantì act in retaliation 227(19). manghigantì take vengeance 24(25). 241(19). manghíhigantì will take vengeance 241(21). gantihìn be given return for 58(9). panghigantihàn be the object of vengeance 40(38). gáno, see anò. ganoòn, see iyòn. -gápang: gumàgápang is crawling 18(3). paggápang a crawling 18(4). -gápas: panggápas kind of knife 225(5). gumápas cut, slice 227(20). pinanggàgapásan is being cut from 256(32). -gápos: iginápos was tied down 58(31). -gastà S.: paggastà a spending 248(11). gàstos S. expense 54(27). gátas milk 175(1). gawà` that done 54(20). 74(8). 240(34). 277(24). gumawà` do, make 244(35). paggawà` a making, doing 86(10). 202(36). gawìn be done, made 24(17). gàgawìn will be made, done 32(6). 104(1). ginawà` was done, made 20(36). ginágawà` is being done, made 44(3.9). pinaggagawà` was variously done 310(8). ginawaàn was done to 74(40). 76(3.6). gàwáan workshop 58(41). gawaàn factory 315(35). kagagawàn surprisingly, illicitly done 277(23). nakagawà` succeeded in making 86(7). nakagágawà` is able to make 281(28). magawà` be able to be done 30(6). 56(2). magágawà` will be able to be done 18(20). 74(27). nagawà` has been done 54(40). nagágawà` can be done 102(30). pagkagawà` a having made, ability to make 282(10.28). mapaggawà` given to doing 98(31). mágawà` chance to be done 238(36). pagkágawà` the way making turned out 291(3). pagawà` ordered to be made 104(11). nagpagawà` caused to be made 104(8). ipinagawà` was caused to be made 104(15). gawì` direction 163(28). 193(28). gáya like 18(8). 316(30). 272. gayòn, see iyòn. gibà` broken-down 225(9). gibá-gibà` tumble-down 290(36). mangágibà` collapse, pl. 296(3). mangàgìgibà` will collapse 296(5). gílas energy, enterprise 48(32). -gílid: tagílid side 315(27). tumagílid turned the side to 231(17). pagtagílid a moving side-ways 192(20). 231(17). tinagilíran was hurt in the side 254(18). tinaligdàn was turned the side to 254(19). tagilíran side wall, side part 261(29). nàtàtagílid is inclined to one side 296(24). gíliw respected 219(3). ginàw cold feeling 280(38). naginàw got cold 285(17). -ginháwa: guminháwa became comfortable 227(20). gumìginháwa is getting comfortable 227(21). kaginhawáhan comfort, bliss 72(20). nakaginháwa caused to be comfortable 280(36). maginháwa comfortable 289(6). nagpaginháwa caused to be comfortable 302(32). gíning Miss, Mrs. 256. gintò gold 311(20). ginoò Mr., gentleman 54(37). 100(30). 219(3). 289(5). 256. -gìng 48. 250. 516.: magìng become 18(26). 314(18). magíging will become, take place 18(28). 94(23). nagìng became, occurred 18(31). 36(38). 144(23). nagíging is becoming, arising 42(5). 62(14). pagigìng a becoming 314(19). -gísing (a) awaken, tr.: kagìgísing there has been awakening 184(12). makàgísing accidentally awaken 62(11). nakàgísing awakened 257(32). nàgísing was accidentally awakened 293(12). napagísing caused himself to be awakened 311(30). --(b) With accent shifted: wake up, intr.: ikinágisìng was the cause of waking up 158(9). mágisìng wake up 18(39). màgìgisìng will wake up 18(37). nágisìng woke up 38(21). pagkágisìng a waking up 62(18). pagisìn-gisìng waking up now and then 300(36). nápagisìng woke up 312(39). palagisingìn fitful sleeper 315(19). gitnà` middle 16(7). 24(38). grúpo S. group 90(25). gúbat jungle 18(2). kagubátan jungle country 118(40). gubiyèrno S. government 92(32). 200(18). -gúgol: ginúgol was spent 257(14). ginùgúgol is being spent 112(22). gúlang age 38(6). 56(33). paggúlang a growing ripe 272(22). magúlang old, mature; parent 32(6). 283(39). -gúlat: gulatìn scary 247(32). pagkagúlat a getting scared 285(42). pagkàgúlat astonishment 36(38). mapanggúlat given to scaring 289(36). magugulatìn jumpy 62(7). 290(4). nàpagúlat was astonished 30(22). 58(8). palagulatìn nervous person 315(20). gúlay vegetable 72(36). -gulò: nagkagulò was surprised 268(29). magulò confused 237(2). nagulò became confused 284(38). nagúgulò is confused 52(29). gulòd hill 226(25). gúlok bolo 38(27). -gúmon: nàgùgúmon is trailing 98(20). guntìng shears 26(2). gupìt a cutting with scissors, hair-cut 219(13). panggupìt used for cutting, scissors 225(5). gumupìt cut 26(15). naggugupìt cut to bits 238(33). naggúgugupìt is cutting to bits 238(34). paggugupìt a cutting to bits 273(33). manggupìt cut hair 26(1). nanggupìt did hair-cutting 167(2). manggugupìt manggugúpit hair-cutter 24(34). 243(11). panggugupìt hair-cutting 26(19). ginupìt was cut 60(6). gupitàn be sheared 26(3). nakagupìt was able to cut 281(29). pagkagupìt a having cut 250(32). nakágupìt accidentally cut 290(12). nágupìt chanced to be cut 293(38). pagkágupìt a chance cutting 291(4.42). nagpagupìt allowed himself to be sheared 302(33). pagpapagupìt an allowing oneself to be sheared 302(34). ipinagupìt was caused to be cut 180(11). góra S. cap 246(4). gurò` teacher 80(40). gustò S.: desired, liked 16(29). 52(22). 267. paggustò a desiring 18(21). gustuhìn be desired 114(41). nagkagustò conceived a desire 268(31). ipinagkagustò was the cause of desiring 272(33). ikinàgùgustò is the cause of liking 273(31). pinagkàkagustuhàn is being liked by many 275(7). magustúhin fond 110(1). 289(42). pagkágustò a coming to desire 24(1). 92(36). màgustuhàn happen to be liked 74(2). nàgùgustuhàn is liked 209(25). gútom hunger 28(32). gutòm hungry 76(8). gutúmin be assailed by hunger 28(28). nagùgútom is hungry 285(19). palagutumìn one who easily gets hungry 315(19). guwàrdiya-sibìl guwàrdiya-sivìl S. gendarme, gendarmerie 20(20). guwarnisiyòn S. harness 315(33). gúya` young of animal, calf 210(24). See báhay. H. hába` length 56(39). humába` grew long 38(30). kahabáan length 192(22). mahába` long 120(2). pinakamahába` longest 58(11). mahahába` pl. 18(15). habágat spring wind 227(40). hábang while, during 16(2). 292. -hábol: nagsìsihábol are pursuing 301(21). paghábol a pursuing 84(27). panghahábol a chasing 116(7). habúlin be pursued 18(10). hinábol was pursued 88(24). hinàhábol is being pursued 68(19). nàhàhábol gets pursued 18(8). ipinahábol was caused to be pursued 76(10). ipinahàhábol is being caused to be pursued 72(32). hagdàn ladder 270(31). hagdánan stairway 106(11). -hágis: naghágis tossed 48(8). inihágis was tossed 16(30). 248(17). mapanghágis given to flinging 289(36). pahagìs with a toss 300(14) and Corrigenda. -hagk, see halìk. -hágod: humàhágod is stroking 98(21). hinágod was stroked 84(10). Hagúnoy place-n. 110(24). -hakbàng: háhakbàng will take a step 70(1). paghakbàng a stepping 68(29). -hákot: paghahàkútan a carting together 118(17). halagà price 54(23). mahalagà dear 36(14). 234(41). pinakamahalagà most valued 42(1). 288(38). mahahalagà pl. 116(2). -halakhàk: nápahalakhàk burst into laughter 68(26). haláman garden-plant 72(36). hàlamanàn garden, flower-pot 74(14). 260(38). halayà S. jelly 253(38). halíge post 64(23). halìk kiss 94(12). humalìk kissed 227(22). hagkàn be kissed 251(24). hinagkàn was kissed 94(10). mahagkàn be able to be kissed 92(26). halimbáwa` example 48(23). 62(10). 265(2). -halimhìm: hinàhalimhimàn is being brooded on 102(18). hálo` that admixed 220(35). hálù-hálo` confused 50(15). hinalúan was mixed with 251(24). hinàhalúan is being given an admixture 108(6). haluàn mixing-vessel 260(8). pinahàhalúan is being caused to be given an admixture 108(7). hálos almost 110(25). 265(3). hámak unfortunate, no-account 219(3). ikàpahámak be the cause of coming to grief 310(12). ikàpàpahámak will be the cause of coming to grief 310(14). màpahámak come to grief 312(22). màpàpahámak will become good-for-nothing 312(24). nàpahámak came to grief 312(17). nàpàpahámak is getting spoiled 312(19). hampàs whipping, whip 220(37). 221(42). hampàs-lúpa` vagabond 211(4). maghampàs-lúpa` be a vagabond 235(27). panghampàs used as a whip 225(8). humampàs hit with a whip 227(24). naghampàs whipped himself 233(38). nagháhahampàs is whipping about 238(36). manghampàs whip people 239(38). hampasìn be whipped 184(8). hinampasàn was struck with a whip 251(25). hampásan whipping-bench 258(27). kahampásan one of two who perform mutual flagellation 277(39). nahampàs has been whipped 284(12). nakáhampàs happened to hit 291(27). náhampàs was accidentally hit with a whip 293(14). pagkáhampàs a chance hitting 62(17). 292(3). páhampasìn be whipped harder 305(11). hámon a challenge 52(25). manghàhámon will challenge 48(24). manghahámon challenger 48(29). hinámon was challenged 48(32). hinàhámon is being challenged 18(21). hánap that sought 76(23). hánap-búhay livelihood 271(40). maghàhánap-búhay will work for a livelihood 193(32). 235(30). humánap seek 74(23). paghánap a seeking 227(25). maghánap earn 32(11). 233(39). paghahánap the earning one's living 60(16). 102(7). maghanàp seek in quantity; search 237(28). paghahanàp a searching 52(29). hanápin be sought 92(12). 244(13). hinánap was sought out 16(22). hinàhánap is being sought 76(18). ihánap be looked for 30(32). paghahanapàn a searching through a place 52(34). nahánap has been sought 143(36). makapaghanàp have searched 287(20). nakapaghanàp has searched 287(18). pinahanápan was ordered to be sought in 52(15). handà` a serving food 114(34). maghandà` serve 112(29). nagháhandà` is serving 114(9). iháhandà` will be served 237(36). inihandà` was served 299(11). iniháhandà` is being served out 62(36). nakahandà` is served 183(22). 281(4). -hantày: hantayìn be awaited 32(26). hinantày was awaited 50(37). hangàd aim, goal 46(36). hangàl fool 276(31). kahangalàn foolishness 276(31). -hanggà: hanggáhan boundary 258(29). hanggàn limit 22(6). hanggàng until, up to 16(12). 68. 293. hángin wind 118(31). -hángo`: paghángo` a rescuing 78(10). hinángo` was rescued 88(36). ikahàhángo` will be the means of rescuing 74(42). mahángo` be able to be rescued 74(23). mahàhángo` will be able to be rescued 78(2). nahàhángo` is being rescued 78(12). hápis grief 38(11). hinápis was grieved 244(14). nahàhápis is sad 285(20). pagkahápis a grieving 74(25). hápon afternoon 18(39). 190(23.31). maghápon whole day 112(9). 262(8). kahápon yesterday 152(13). 172(6). 259. pagkahápon a having supped 104(16). Hapòn S. Japan 269(20). Hapunès S. Japanese 306(19). hárang obstruction 220(39). panghárang used as an obstruction 225(8). humárang held up 227(26). paghárang a holding up 198(21). naghárang made an obstruction 233(41). paghahárang an obstructing 233(42). nanghárang held people up 239(38). panghahárang highway robbery 239(40). hinárang was held up 282(36). ipinanghárang was used in holding up 250(10). hinarángan was obstructed 251(27). pinangharángan was the place of holding up 255(11). harangàn hold-up 197(9). paghaharangàn a holding up together 275(22). ikinahárang was the cause of being held up 272(6). pagkahárang a having held up 282(29). pagkapanghahárang a having practised highway robbery 287(30). nàhárang got held up 295(6). pagkàhárang a chance holding up 292(5). pahárang caused to be held up 197(10). paharàng crosswise 300(15). pagpapahárang a causing to be held up 302(36). pinapanghàhárang is being caused to practise highway robbery 305(22). ipinahárang was caused to be held up 306(11). haràp front 228(25). humáharàp is facing 96(7). háharàp will be present 96(18). hinaràp was faced 20(37). harapàn place in front of 24(37). kaharàp facing 98(21). náharàp came to face 72(2). hardìn S. garden 72(19). hári` king 24(29). naghàhári` is ruling 24(30). pagharían be ruled 255(14). pinaghàharían is being ruled 24(32). kahariyàn kingdom 24(36). 276(18). -hása`: hasà` sharpened 202(30). paghahása` a sharpening 232(16). ihása` be sharpened 248(19). hasáan be given a sharp edge 251(28). paghasáan be sharpened on 255(15). hasaàn whetstone 255(15). -hátak: paghátak a tugging 78(8). hatákin be pulled at 284(16). kahatakàn one of two who tug against each other 186(38). háti` divide; that divided; mid- 222(1). háti ng gabì: naghàháti-ng-gabì it is midnight 84(19). 235(24). kinàháti-ng-gabihàn was at midnight 38(21). 279(25). hatì` divided 222(31). pangháti` used for dividing 225(11). humáti` divided, halved 227(29). nagháti` distributed 234(1). paghaháti` a distributing 234(3). naghatì` divided up, divided in quantity 237(30). paghahatì` a dividing in quantity 237(32). nangháti` shared orders 239(41). panghaháti` a sharing orders 239(42). hináti` was divided 16(7). 244(4). pinaghatì` was divided in quantity 246(20). paghatían be shared 28(34). ikinaháti` was the cause of breaking in two 270(39). of being able to divide 272(9). naháti` has been divided 284(39). pagkaháti` a having divided 282(31). nakàháti` chanced to divide 291(29). pagkàháti` a chance dividing 291(6). 292(8). paháti` ordered to be divided 299(14). pahatì` tending to halve 300(18). nagpaháti` caused to be divided 302(38). pagpapaháti` a causing to be divided 302(41). ipinháti` was caused to be divided 306(13). ipinagpaháti` was caused to be divided up 307(19). pinahatían was caused to be given his share 308(9). pinapahatían was caused to be caused to to be given his share 308(41). kalaháti` half 80(24). 273(21). 314(32). kalaháti-ng-áraw half-day 118(26). kalaháti-ng-óras half-hour 66(36). magkákalahatì` will be half through 104(17). 238(22). pangangalaháti` a being halfway 24(6). 241(13). kalahatían middle 261(27). -hatìd: naghatìd conveyed 56(26). nagháhatìd is conveying 98(3). paghahatìd an escorting 114(39). ihatìd be conveyed 34(6). iháhatìd will be conveyed 104(28). inihatìd was conveyed 20(26). iniháhatìd is being conveyed 20(4). hàhatdàn will be conveyed to 175(1). hinàhatdàn is being conveyed to 190(10). paghàhatdàn will be delivered to 20(9). pinaghatdàn was delivered to 255(16). pinaghàhatdàn is being delivered to 179(8). ipinahatìd was caused to be conveyed 294(28). napahatìd had himself conveyed 52(37). hátol advice 30(4). naghàhátol advises 74(30). -háwa: nakàhàháwa is contagious 272(3). háwak that grasped 66(35). humáwak took hold 78(7). pagháwak a taking hold 227(31). hinawákan was taken hold of 66(26). makaháwak be able to take hold 22(22). nakaháwak has taken hold 281(14). nakàháwak got hold of 290(18). -háyag (a): paháyag that published 48(37). nagpàpaháyag causes to become public, announces 48(35). pagpapaháyag an announcing 90(22). ipinaháyag was caused to become public, was announced 56(6). pàhayágan páhayagàn newspaper 48(27). 236(41). See báhay. --(b) with accent shift: hàyágan public affair, public 236(37). náhayàg got widely known 60(11). háyop animal; carabao 28(26). -higà`: paghigà` a going to bed 64(6). hinìhigàn is being slept on 102(26). hìgáan bed 244(22). hihigàn couch 62(12). kahíhigà` there has just been lying down 267(15). makahigà` be able to lie down 281(33). nakahigà` has lain down 86(39). nahigà` lay down 38(17). 285(34). nahíhigà` is in the act of lying down 285(35). máhigà` get laid 295(8). nagpatihigà` suddenly lay down 313(20). mápatihigà` fall on one's back 313(37). nàpàpatihigà` falls on his back 313(35). higànte S. giant 32(31). -higìt: mahigìt with an excess 118(16). -higpìt: mahigpìt firm, strict 42(40). mahihigpìt pl. 122(5). híkaw ear-ring 303(3). nagpahíkaw caused himself to be adorned with ear-rings 303(2). -híla: humìhíla is dragging 118(20). paghíla a dragging 118(22). hiníla was dragged 16(3). hinìhíla is being dragged 100(23). mahìhíla will be able to be dragged 80(27). -hilámos: panghilámos water for washing hands 62(36). hilàw raw 28(31). palahilawìn kind of rice 315(20). hilìng request 219(34). humilìng requested 186(18). hinilìng was asked for 16(27). hiníhilìng is being asked for 52(8). mapanghilìng given to demanding 42(7). hìléra S. row 34(20). makahiléra be in single file 110(41). nakahiléra is in single file 122(2). -himbìng: mahimbìng sound, deep 296(39). náhimbìng fell sound asleep 84(19). hína` weakness 18(7). humína` became weak, slow 227(34). naghína` made gentle 234(5). nanghína` slackened up 240(2). nagsìsipanghína` are getting weak 108(28). kahináan weakness, slowness 22(39). mahína` weak, slow 22(33). mahihína` pl. 149(20). hinála` suspicion 40(23). paghihinála` a suspecting 84(39). hininála` was suspected 30(23). hinìhinála` is being suspected 18(20). pinaghìhinaláan is the object of suspicion 40(21). màpaghìhinaláan màpàpaghinaláan will get suspected 38(19). 298(19). nàpaghìhinaláan napàpaghinaláan gets suspected 298(15). hindì` not, no 16(4). 152(7). 228. 237. 239. 301. 319. 340. -hinhìn: mahihinhìn respectable, decent, pl. 94(11). hintày wait 206(1). maghintày wait 153(4). naghintày awaited 26(13). 30(14). naghíhintày is awaiting 48(12). paghihintày a waiting 285(23). hinintày was awaited 120(37). hintò` a stopping; stop 22(26). 222(2). stopped 223(28). maghintò` stop 170(3). magsihintò` pl. 184(22). naghintò` stopped, ceased 18(3). 283(13). naghíhintò` stops 110(36). nagsísipaghintò` pl. 112(5). ihintò` be stopped 104(19). hintuàn be ceased from 251(28). hinintuàn was ceased from 122(22). hintúan stopping-place 258(32). máhintò` come to an end 60(37). náhintò` got stopped 259(34). pahintò-hintò` stopping at intervals 300(30). pinahintò` was caused to stop 26(2). pinapaghintò` was caused to cease 84(31). ipinahintò` was caused to be stopped 241(1). -hintúlot: pahintúlot a permit 116(2). 272(4). ipinahìhintúlot is being permitted 54(18). pahintulútan be given permission 264(22). pinahintulútan was given permission 264(39). pinahìhintulútan is being given permission 122(6). hinòg ripe 34(28). nagkákahinòg are in part getting ripe 36(1). nahinòg got ripe 16(13). pagkahinòg a getting ripe 300(19). napahinòg was able to be caused to ripen 311(20). nápahinòg came to be caused to ripen 312(27). -hingà: humíhingà is breathing 20(8). hiningà breath 40(28). 228(29). makapaghingà be able to breathe 68(20). magpahingà rest 54(11). nagpápahingà is resting 303(3). makapahingà be able to rest 311(2). makapápahingà will have rested 311(4). nakapahingà has rested 310(43). nakapápahingà has just rested, is rested 206(1). nàpàpahingà is resting, of animals 312(31). nangàpàpahingà pl. 312(37). hingì`: paghingì` a requesting 227(35). manghingì` beg 34(18). nanghingì` begged 32(20). nagsísipanghingì` are begging 112(5). manghihingì` begger, beggar 112(16). makahingì` be able to ask for 281(33) makáhingì` get by asking 32(22). hip, see -íhip. hípag husband's sister, (woman's) brother's wife 242(13). maghípag two women, one of whom is married to the other's brother 242(12). hípon kind of shrimp 259(6). -hiràm: híhiràm will borrow 227(36). manghiràm borrow 240(5). panghihiràm a borrowing 221(5). hiniràm was borrowed 174(22). hìráman person borrowed from 258(34). kahìráman one of two who borrow from each other 277(39). magkahìráman two who borrow from each other 278(35). makákapanghiràm will be able to borrow 287(24). nakákapanghiràm is able to borrow 287(22). mapanghiràm given to borrowing 289(37). papanghiramìn be caused to go and borrow 305(34). mapahíhiràm will be able to be caused to borrow, will be able to be lent to 311(21). hírap misery 22(5). 50(29). hiràp wearied 62(25). maghìhírap will suffer 46(18). paghihírap suffering 44(24). kahirápan hardship 62(4). mahírap difficult, poor 22(32). 36(19). 269(3). mahihírap pl. 54(22). nahirápan was pained, wearied 118(22). nahìhirápan is being pained 44(12). nagpàpahírap is causing to suffer 22(10). pagpapahírap a causing to suffer 46(14). 273(1). pagpapakahírap a taking pains 309(20). pahìhirápan will be caused to suffer 44(10). 100(15). Hesùs S. Jesus 285(42). -hitìt: hititìn be puffed at 66(13). -hitsà (S. ?): ihiníhitsà is being tossed up 48(5). hinitsahàn was tossed to 48(7). nápahitsà got thrown upward 84(3). hitsúra S. appearance 40(13). 106(11). 116(33). -híwa`: hiníwa` was slashed 20(33). 203(37). -hiwalày: maghiwá-hiwalày part, separate, pl. 183(11). naghiwalày parted (two persons) 88(17). naghiwá-hiwalày pl. 26(34). 102(40). naghíhiwalày are parting 40(18). magkáhiwalày go apart (two involuntary actors) 270(38). magkàkàhiwá-hiwalày will part, pl. 26(32). nagkàhiwá-hiwalày went apart, pl. 271(14). hiyà` shame 72(12). 90(39). kahiyá-hiyà` arousing shame 58(13). kahiyaàn be revered 274(18). makahiyà` given to embarrassment 288(31). nahíhiyà` is ashamed 285(20). mapanghìyà` given to embarrassing 289(38). heyugrafíya hewgrafíya S. geography 82(1). hubàd naked 223(29). maghubàd undress oneself 232(19). pinaghùhubaràn is being undressed in 255(18). nagpahubàd had himself undressed 303(5). pinapaghubàd was caused to undress himself 305(21). pinahubaràn was caused to be undressed 308(11). húgas dish-washing 219(36). naghùhúgas is washing 114(7). maghuhugàs dish-washer 242(42). manghuhugàs id. 243(14). hinùhugásan is being washed 251(30). hugasàn place for dish-washing 260(8). húkay hole, ditch 24(38). hukày hollowed 104(9). humúkay dig 24(37). 152(32). dug 179(26). hùhukáyin hùhukáin will be dug 309(34). ihinúkay was dug for 248(19). hinukáyan was dug up 179(27). hukòm judge 18(26). hùkúman court of justice 54(31). paghuhùkúman session of court 54(34). -húla`: humúla` predicted 277(37). manghúla` tell fortunes 240(6). manghuhúla` fortune-teller 206(16). húli (a) that caught 220(41). 282(6). panghúli means of catching 52(27). humúli catch 108(5). 165(34). paghúli a catching 108(3). nagsìsihúli are catching 102(1). nanghùhúli goes catching 106(39). 240(6). panghuhúli a catching in quantity 106(24). manghuhúli catcher 56(20). 110(6). hulíhin be caught 52(16). 68(9). hinúli was caught 20(20). 84(31). hulíhan be caught from 251(32). hulihàn a catching by many 260(9). pagkahúli a having caught 282(33). màhúli get caught 52(22). 70(19). 102(3). nàhúli got caught 16(22). 44(16). nàhùhúli is getting caught, is caught 28(29). 309(7). nagpahúli allowed himself to be left behind 68(36). tagahúli catcher 165(34). --(b) Accent shifted: hulì late; last 20(30). 28(18). 222(31). panghulì last 226(10). kàhulì-hulíhan very last 40(27). 280(17). máhulì be late 235(39). màhùhulì will be left behind 18(18). náhulì was last 118(34). pagkáhulì a being left behind 18(31). 296(18). màpàpaghulì will all be caught 198(12). 297(20). Húliyo S. n. 279(5). Holò S. Sulu 120(18). húlo` source, upstream 279(4). -húlog: ihúlog be dropped 168(19). ihùhúlog will be dropped 64(43). hulúgan be dropped to 16(17). hùhulúgan will be dropped to 16(19). ipakihúlog be dropped along 265(6). ipinakihúlog was dropped along 265(9). ipinakìkihúlog is being asked to be dropped along 265(10). ikinahúlog was the cause of falling 74(38). kahùhulúgan will be fallen from 158(30). kinahulúgan was fallen from 274(19). kahùlúgan one of two who drop to each other 278(6). kahulugàn meaning 30(18). 120(24). nakahúlog caused to drop 281(34). mahúlog fall down 299(32). mahùhúlog will fall down 22(12). nahúlog fell down 24(7). pagkahúlog a falling down 24(18). magpatihulòg throw oneself down 206(23). magpápatihulòg will throw himself down 313(28). nagpatihulòg threw himself down 313(21). nagpápatihulòg throws himself down 313(24). húni chirp 197(21). humúni purred 84(1). hùníhan chirping together 202(21). kahùníhan one of two that chirp at each other 278(8). mapaghunì given to neighing 289(31). palahùníhin given to neighing, chirping 315(15). Húniyo S. June 110(11). hungkòy winnowed 223(30) naghungkòy winnowed 232(21). hungkúyan winnowing-machine 258(36). Hòrdan S. Jordan 106(6). hurnò S. oven 212(36). húsay excellence 58(1). nagsìsihúsay are getting well 108(36). mahúsay in good shape, excellent 46(5). 108(12). 269(4). pinakamahúsay most excellent 28(38). mahuhúsay pl. 196(22). nàhúsay got well 44(24). hustò S. just suited 108(40). hóta S. iota 30(16). huwàg not, do not 20(13). 234. 239. 240. Huwàn S. n. 20(2). Huwána S. n. 173(25). huwátaw (C?) Chinese bowl 255(30). huwès S. judge 54(37). huwéting (C?) lottery 229(26). I(E). ibà other 22(10). 66. 98. 132. 251. 314. ibà t ibà: nakapagìibà-t-ibà is able to alter 36(10). pinagibhàn was differed in 255(19). pagkakáibà a being different 46(39). 276(31). náibà got different 294(24) nàìibà changes 50(17). pagkáibà a being different 110(17). íbig liked, desired 20(18). 267. pagíbig a desiring, loving 60(25). 64(4). iníbig was desired, loved 18(15). 40(16). inìíbig is being desired, loved 92(20). ìbígan mutual love 259(28). magìbígan loved each other 236(29). nagììbígan are loving each other 236(29). pagiìbígan a loving each other 90(6). kaibigàn desire, affection 140(2). 168(38). kaìbígan one of two who love each other 94(18). 140(2). 278(9). magkaìbígan two who love each other 42(30). 278(36). kayibígan friend 16(5). 139(41). 278(17). magkayibígan pair of friends 22(30). 278(37). magkakayibígan pl. 26(30). 278(40). pagkakayibígan a being friends 24(28). 278(30). makipagkayibígan make friends with 40(6). 278(31). nakipagkayibígan made friends with 86(30). kàibígan person loved 279(41). nagkàkàibígan are loving each other 90(32). 280(4). maibigìn fond of 96(39). 110(15). íbon bird 197(21). -ígi`: maígi` accurate 28(5). igìb that dipped 220(42). umigìb dip out 227(38). mangigìb fetch water 282(24). Igoróte S. Igorote 110(33). -íhaw: ihàw roasted 222(32). magíhaw roast, tr. 232(21). iníhaw was roasted 244(16). ihawàn gridiron 295(9). -íhip: umìíhip is blowing 227(39). hinípan was blown on 251(33). ikàw thou 18(10). 47. 63. 182. See iyò, kà, mò. -íkid: nakaíkid is coiled up 120(21). tagaíkid roller 315(35). -iklì`: kaikliàn shortness 192(21). maiiklì` short, pl. 24(31). nápakaiklì` very short 221(17). ílag go away 151(39). umílag get out of the way 56(20). nagsiílag got out of the way, pl. 118(34). umìílag is running away 116(7). pagiílag a getting away 116(27). pangingílag an avoiding 102(2). 118(43). 240(8). ilágan inlagàn be avoided 238(42). inilágan was avoided 251(37). inìilágan is being avoided 36(22). ilàn a few; how many? 16(11). 66. 98. íilàn only a few 38(9). 48(28). makáilàn several times 44(39). 298(33). ilàng uncanny 40(9). pagilàng a tricking 227(41). kailángan kayilángan necessity 58(16). 275(35). 288(12). nangàngailángan requires 108(2). 275(38). pangangailángan a needing 236(32). 275(39). kàkailangánin will be necessitated 275(39). kinàkailángan is being necessitated 46(11). 82(38). nailàng was nonplussed 285(21). -ílap: maiílap wild, pl. 28(25). ílaw light, lamp 122(5). ilawàn lamp 286(27). maílaw illuminated 72(6). elektrisidàd S. electricity 290(19). -ílin: pangingílin performing of ceremonies 112(18). ílog river 16(2). Ílog-Pásig Pasig river 244(9). Ilóko S. Iloko 275(8). impiyèrno, see infiyèrno. empléyo S. employment 92(32). impò grandmother 59. 256. magimpò grandmother and grandchild 242(13). inà mother 30(27). 151(22). 59. maginà mother and child 242(14). magiinà pl. 242(30). inahìn female 238(40). iníinà godmother 247(17). -ínam: maínam handsome, pleasant 18(14). 269(5). pàináman be made very pretty 308(37). indà` grandmother 59. 256. -inìp: naíinìp is impatient 285(22). ínit heat 134(19). inìt heated, angry 167(9). 222(33). umínit became hot 227(42). nagínit heated; grew angry 24(22). nagìínit is heating 234(6). kainítan heat 118(20). maínit hot 50(9). maiínit pl. 96(29). and Corrigenda. taginìt hot season 152(20). 315(11). and Corrigenda. iniyò prep. and loc. of kayò: your, you, by you, pl. 165. 169. niniyò disj., by you, of you, 163. -inlag, see ílag. infiyèrno impiyèrno S. hell 22(6). entabládo S. platform 98(40). -intindè S.: nàintindihàn was understood 50(6). Intsèk Chinese 56(34). -inò: ininò was paid attention to 68(6). náinò got noticed 100(3). -inòm: uminòm drank 228(2). paginòm a drinking 163(21). magiinòm drink much 206(26). màngingínom mangiínom boozer 243(11). ininòm was drunk 230(11). inumìn drinking water 247(27). ìnumínan water-shelf 259(22). ìnúman drinking-party 257(25). kaìnúman one of two who drink together 277(40). makáinòm accidentally drink 88(34). pinaíinòm is being caused to drink 200(18). tagainòm one whose only duty it is to drink 315(36). tagapagpainòm one whose duty it is to give drink 316(2). inúyat molasses 253(40). -íngat: nagíngat was careful 288(13). nagìíngat is being careful 48(13). pagiíngat a being careful 62(14). ingátan be done carefully 227(31). pagingátan be given due care 255(20). maíngat careful 40(22). íngay noise 32(30). pagiingày a making much noise 293(13). naíngay made a sound 285(30). maíngay make a sound 106(5). noisy 295(16). Ingglès Inggléses S. English 155(24). 260(11). ingkantádo S. enchanted 84(16). engkantadòr S. enchanter 84(38). ingkòng grandfather 59. 256. ipà rice-hulls 120(22). -ípat, see ápat. -ípon: nagsìsipagípon are gathering up 262(37). maípon have been gathered 34(12). naípon has been gathered 60(32). màípon get gathered 293(39). irè this 163(36). 64. nirì disj., of this, by this 316(18). 166. See also díne. isà sà one, a 16(3). 67. 248. 261. 314. isà ng báhay: kasà-ng-báhay housemate 68(22). 266(37). isà ng daàn: ikaisà-ng-daàn hundredth 273(22). isà ng laksà: ikaisà-ng-laksà` millionth 273(23). isà ng líbo: ikaisà-ng-líbo thousandth 273(23). isà ng pù`: pangsà-m-pù` number ten 225(40). ikasà-m-pù` tenth 212(38). 273(24). makásà-m-pù` ten times 64(19). íisà only one 36(20). isà-isà one by one 32(23). 76(19). 265(4). nagisà-isà acted one by one 239(16). inisà-isà were taken one by one 76(15). isdà` fish 88(26). mángingisdà` fisherman 243(6). palàisdáan fishpond 315(24). ísip thought, intelligence; think 88(15). 159(29). 184(15). 222(2). pangísip means of thinking 271(15). umísip think 228(3). thought out 96(19). 100(15). pagísip a thinking out 228(4). magísip take thought 200(23). 234(7). nagísip took thought, planned 207(20). 233(8). pagiísip a planning; thinking-power, reason 44(25). 98(34). 234(9). 252(31). 254(27). magisìp think of various things 237(33). nagisìp thought about, ransacked his mind 102(43). nagíisìp is variously thinking of 202(42). pagiisìp a searching through one's mind 30(16). isípin be thought of 166(11). inísip was thought of 170(4). pinagísip was planned 246(14). pinagisìp was variously thought out 246(21). pagkaísip a having thought out 193(31). pagkàísip a chance thinking out 291(7). 292(11). nagpaísip caused to be thought out 310(21). ipinaísip was caused to be thought of 306(18). eskuwéla S. pupil 304(5). eskuwèlhan school 90(3). Espániya S. Spain 80(40). ispírito S. spirit 66(23). Estádos-Unídos S. United States 46(33). estasiyòn S. station 116(20). estudiyànte S. student 26(29). estopádo S. stew 182(2). istóriya S. history 271(6). itìm black 36(40). itimàn be made black 251(40). kaitìm what blackness 151(27). kaiitìm pl. 267(41). maitìm black 36(12). pàitimàn be made very black 308(37). itlòg egg 28(31). pinangitlugàn was laid into 256(35). pàngitlúgan place where eggs are laid 262(4). itò yitò this, the latter, he, it 16(32). 64. nitò disj., of this, by this 20(34). 166. ganitò in this manner 26(7). 190. See also díto. -íwan: íwan (for i-íwan) be left 32(3). 140(3). ìíwan will be left 248(21). iníwan was left 32(25). 44(42). inìíwan is being left 248(22). kinaiwánan was left in 237(34). naíwan has been left 32(27). nangaíwan pl. 120(33). nàíwan got left 293(16). nagpáiwàn caused himself to be left 50(38). 304(26). -iyàk: umiyàk weep, cry 186(35). umíiyàk is weeping 22(24). nagsísiiyàk pl. 114(15). pagiyàk a weeping, crying 100(1). 228(6). inìiyakàn is being wept for 251(42). ìyákan a crying by many 100(4). 257(26). nagìyákan wept together 32(8). ikináiyàk was the cause of weeping 30(37). paiyàk-iyàk weeping at intervals 300(38). pagpapaiyàk a causing to cry 100(7). nápaiyàk burst into tears 90(20). palaiyákin cry-baby 315(17). iyàn yàn that 20(9). 64. niyàn disj., of that, by that 157(32). 166. ganiyàn in that manner 20(12). 102(22). 190. See also diyàn. iyò yò prep. and loc. of ikàw: by thee, thee, thy 16(28). 165. 169. iyòn yòn yoòn yaòn that, you, the former 16(9). 64. niyòn noòn disj., of that, by that, 34(27). 38(8). 50(27). 166. gayòn ganoòn in that manner 18(19). 190. 238. 239. magkágayòn happen thus 46(17). 271(10). See also doòn. Eyurúpa Yurúpa S. Europe 82(2). 221(37). K. kà thou, enclitic form of ikàw 47. 63. 182. kabaliyerésa S. stable 181(39). kabàn box; dry measure of 75 litres, equal to 25 salòp; twenty-five 220(38). 228(36). kabáyo S. horse 60(30). 288(25). See kinamatayàn. nangàngabáyo is riding horseback 240(9). kabá-kabayúhan hobby-horse 261(34). nakapangàngabáyo is able to ride horseback 287(26). kabiyàw: kumabiyàw press sugar-cane 228(6). kabyáwan cane-press 255(28). pagkabyawàn be used to press cane in 255(27). pagkàkabyawàn will be used to press cane in 255(28). pinagkabyawàn was the place of pressing cane 255(24). pinagkàkabyawàn is the place of cane-pressing 255(25). kabuluhàn, see -búlo. kabutì mushroom 244(19). -kagàt: pagkagàt a gnawing 36(4). 86(6). kinagàt was gnawed 76(9). kinákagàt is being gnawed 106(30). pinagkakagàt was variously gnawed 84(24). káhit although; no matter; any 18(11). 22(3). 28(21). 48. 68. 248. 253. 264. 290. 294. kahòn S. box 84(42). 120(20). káhoy wood; tree 32(33). 34(28). 58(1). See búnga, piráso, púno`. -káin: kumáin eat 24(1). ate 16(16). kumàkáin is eating 42(8). kàkáin will eat 28(39). pagkáin an eating; food 28(33). 241(40). 254(5). nangàngáin makes his food of 36(13). kánin be eaten 293(20). boiled rice 72(34). kináin was eaten 32(16). contents of stomach 275(7). mangináin graze 18(33). 241(13). nangìngináin is grazing 18(2). pangingináin a grazing 18(4). makapangináin have grazed 18(36). kinàkáin is being eaten 36(15). kakanìn sweetmeats 108(6). nagkàkakanìn makes sweetmeats 236(7). pagkánan be eaten from 255(30). kàínan eating-party 284(36). pagkakàínan an eating together 108(21). kainàn kakanàn dining-room 114(6). 230(12). makikáin eat along 192(40). makìkikáin will eat along 264(6). nakikáin ate along 264(7). kakàkáin there has been eating 175(8). kakàínan one of two who eat together 278(9). makakáin be able to eat 94(30). 281(37). nakáin was able to be eaten 283(27). pagkakáin a having eaten 108(27). makàkáin happen to eat 108(9). makàpakikáin-káin ever eat along 297(26). pangpakáin served as food 112(29). nagpakáin caused to be eaten 303(6). pagpapakáin a causing to eat 112(39). pakánin be caused to eat 72(33). ipinakipakáin was asked to be caused to eat 307(37). tagakáin one whose task is merely to eat 315(37). tagapagpakáin one who is to serve food 316(4). kaingìn a clearing 118(40). kakàw S. cocoa 299(6). káki S. khaki 122(2). kalabása S. pumpkin 76(15). kalabàw (S.) carabao 70(38). kalabàw-ramò grass-carabao, wild carabao 230(9). kalabìt a touch 201(26). kakàlabítan one of two who touch each other 277(41). kalabòg a thud 24(4). kumalabòg fell with a thud 24(9). kàlabúgan thud of many objects 257(27). kalákal merchandise 236(31). kalámay rice-paste 56(16). kalàn stove, brazier 74(5). kalasìng clink 247(21). kàlasíngan clink of many objects 257(31). -kálat: pakálat caused to be rumored 118(10). kálaw owl 18(29). kalaykày rake 225(25). kinalaykày was raked 166(22). kàlingkíngan, see -lingkìng. kaliwà` left-hand 90(26). See bandà. kalsáda, see karsáda. káluluwà soul 72(26). 268(15). -kaluskòs: kumaluskòs pattered 228(6). kàluskúsan a pattering by many 84(20). kamálig storehouse 253(37). Also as place-n., see báyan. kamátis (S.) tomato 268(26). kamatsilè S. a tree, Pithecolobium dulce Benth. 247(1). kamày hand 22(9). nagkàmáyan shook hands with each other 234(10). kambèng goat 112(40). kamì we, excl. 20(38). 63. See ámin. kamiséta S. shirt 122(2). -kamìt: nagkamìt gained 232(22). kàkamtàn will be received 272(42). màkamtàn get obtained 40(5). nàkamtàn got obtained 62(3). kampána` S. church-bell 80(26). kampìt kitchen-knife 174(22). kampòn S. comrade 305(33). -kámot: kinámot was scratched 84(2). kamóte S. sweet-potato 253(2). kánan right-hand 90(26). See bandà. kandáro S. lock 283(40). kandidáto S. candidate 209(24). kandíla` S. candle 50(29). kandeléro S. candlestick 293(5). kanilà, see silà. kanína a little while ago 22(17). 50(40). 262(5). kaníno, see síno. --kanità, see kità. --kaniyà, see siyà. kaniyà` therefore 20(13). 241. 295. 297. 324. kaniyòn S. cannon 252(9). kaniyunéro kaniyunéros S. cannoneer 200(18). See trabáho. kànser S. cancer 204(11). kantà S. song 208(6). kumantà sing 110(32). kumákantà is singing 228(8). nagsísikantà pl. 110(38). pagkantà a singing 112(3). nagkákantà sings 112(2). kantahìn be sung 110(38). kinantà was sung 208(7). kantahàn be sung for 204(29). kantáhan song in chorus 112(4). nagkantáhan sang in chorus 200(20). -kapà`: kumapà` felt out 228(9). kumákapà` is groping for 228(10). nangapà` caught with his hand 240(10). kinapà` was groped out 244(21). nakàkàkapà` has come to be grasping 291(31). kapàg when, if 187(12). 248(31). 48. 296. 300. 304. -kapàl: makapàl thick 86(7). Kapampángan, see pangpàng. kápit that held; a hold 66(29). kápit-báhay neighboring house, neighbor 38(10). 56(35). 211(5). magkápit-báhay pair of neighbors 242(22). magkakápit-báhay pl. 38(9). kápit-báyan neighboring town; person from the next town 46(7). 60(12). 211(7). pagkápit a holding on 295(4). nagsikápit took hold, pl. 78(11). nakakápit has taken hold 64(22). nàkàkápit is clinging 78(15). pakapítin be caused to take hold 78(2). kápitan S. mayor 98(38). kapitàn S. captain 254(34). kapóte S. rain-coat 161(20). kápuwà` fellow-; equally 36(39). 249. kápuwà tào: magkápuwà-táo two fellow-men 242(23). karaniyúwan, see -dániw. kárang covering of wagon or boat 118(21). karáyom needle 224(1). See bútas. karéra S. course 167(27). karéta S. wagon 100(23). karitòn S. cart 38(17). karnabàl S. carnival 237(8). karnè S. meat, beef 114(11). karsáda kalsáda S. street 201(22). 257(26). karumáta S. carriage 52(36). karósa S. float 234(13). kasàl (S.) wedding 219(38). married 54(19). 223(31). pagkakasàl a uniting in marriage 90(34). ikinasàl was united in marriage 94(29). mákasàl get married 92(26). màkàkasàl will get married 295(14). pagkákasàl a getting married 94(35). pakasàl get married 168(16). ipakasàl be caused to be united in marriage 92(17). ipinakasàl was caused to be united in marriage 92(24). mápakasàl get married 90(41). kasalukúyan, see -salúkoy. kasapuwégo S. match 193(7). kaséra S. landlady 302(28). nangàngaséra eats in a boarding-house 240(11). pàngaserahàn boarding-place 38(4). 262(9). nagpàpakaséra keeps a boarding-house 303(8). Kastíla` S. Spanish, Spaniard 28(3). katàm a plane 56(38). kumatàm use the plane 58(10). màngangátam planer 56(34). pinagkatamàn was variously planed off; shavings 56(40). katawàn, see táo. kathà` that composed 221(2). kátiyaw fighting-cock 238(3). kátre S. bedstead 62(38). katuturàn, see -tuwìd. káwad wire 284(22). -káwag: ikináwag was shaken 78(14). káwal herd, troop 106(26). 116(6). kawále` frying-pan 114(10). káwáwa`, see áwa`. kawáyan bamboo 34(37). See pantày. kawayanàn kwayanàn bamboo-grove 260(42). 290(20). káwit pruning-knife 240(12). mangáwit prune; get tired of 240(12). nangàngáwit is getting tired of 104(18). kay, see si. káy ké than 16(9). 281. káya ability, means 56(4). 226(35). 255(3). nangàngáya has mastery 240(14). ikakáya be the cause of ability; means 54(22). makàkáya will come within the ability 16(16). nakáya came within the ability 283(29). nakàkáya comes within the ability 283(30). kayà` else 40(5). so that 48(11). 47. 219. 297. 317(4). 321. -káyas: kayàs smoothed 222(34). kumáyas smoothed 228(11). nakáyas was able to be smoothed 283(31). -kayilà`: ipinagkayilà` was lied about 60(18). káylan kélan when? 70(18). 92(2). 39. 262(7). (13). 317(5). káyo cloth 249(34). mangkakayò cloth-dealer 248(9). kayò you, pl. 63. See iniyò. kibò` least sound or movement 44(42). kumibò` make the least sound, budge 279(13). made the least sound, budged 44(5). pagkibò` a making the least sound or movement 104(25). Kíka` (S.) short-n. (Francisca) 311(11). Kíko` (S.) short-n. (Francisco) 50(36). -kilála: kilalà familiar 290(19). kumilála make acknowledgement 90(40). kakilála person with whom one is acquainted 60(23). pagkàkilanlàn be used as an advertisement 58(18). 279(28). nakàkìkilála nakàkàkilála is acquainted with 167(30). 276(8). 292(28). nàkilála was perceived, got known 70(38). 104(2). màpagkilála be found out 40(20). 66(38). nàpagkilála was realized 50(32). nàpagkìkilála is being recognized 44(34). 52(1). nagpakilála caused to be known 168(34). nagpàpakilála is causing to be known, showing 44(24). pagpapakilála a showing 52(25). ipakilála be caused to be known 58(5). ipinakilála was caused to be known 64(40). ipinakìkilála is being shown 88(8). màipakilála come to be shown 68(32). -kílos: pagkílos a moving, intr. 44(35). 66(35). kìlúsan concerted movement 264(4). makakílos be able to move 311(28). kinà, see sinà. kinábang profit 263(39). pakikinábang profit; holy communion 263(38). pakinábang advantage 300(3). nagpakinábang caused to profit, gave holy communion 98(4). pakìkinabángan will be profited from 94(26). -kinìg: kuminìg trembled 42(41). 64(27). -kinìg: makinìg hear 20(16). 30(17). makíkinìg will hear 96(11). nakinìg heard 285(30). nakíkinìg is hearing 22(21). 96(5). pakinggàn be listened to 20(29). 308(12). pinakinggàn was listened to 50(27). nàpakinggàn happened to be heard 46(24). kínis skill 56(37). 102(22). kakínis what cleverness, how clever? 102(14). makínis smooth, skilful 102(9). pinakamakínis most skilful 102(14). makikínis pl. 118(29). nakapagpàpakínis is able to make smooth 58(14). -kintàb: nagpápakintàb is causing to shine, polishing 114(8). -kingg, see kinìg. -kísig: makísig lively 78(23). -kíta: kumíta find, earn 30(33). kumìkíta is finding 30(37). pagkíta an earning 60(37). magkíta see each other (two actors) 234(10). magkikíta pl. 28(1). 239(5). nagkíta saw each other 203(40). kinakitáan was the place of seeing, was seen in 36(32). makàkíta happen to see, find 30(26). 66(6). makàkìkíta will happen to see 30(36). nakàkíta happened to see 16(2). 40(27). nakàkàkíta happens to see 292(31). màkíta get seen 30(25). 32(38). màkìkíta will be seen 22(37). nàkíta got seen 20(24). 32(31). nàkìkíta is getting seen 20(21). 26(4). pagkàkíta a chance seeing 38(18). 80(12). 292(35). kàpakitáan one of two who show each other 310(36). nagpàpakíta causes to be seen, shows 48(14). ipakíta be shown 48(33). 306(21). ipinakíta was caused to be seen, was shown 30(38). 34(18). màipakíta come to be shown 28(15). kità thou and I; thou by me 16(19). 18(21). 63. 182. nità disj., by, of thee and me 163. kanità prep. and loc., thy and my, thee and me, by thee and me 227(17). 165. 169. kitè` chicken 238(9). kláse S. class, school 26(36). kristàl S. glass 255(21). kristiyáno (Chinese brogue: kilistiyáno) S. Christian 58(39). Krísto S. Christ 20(4). krùs S. cross; also as family-n. 20(24). 242(20). nagkurùs crossed himself 64(29). nagkúkurùs is crossing himself 64(5). kò disj. of akò: of me, by me 47. 163. 182. kúba` hump; hunchback 22(29). -kublì: nagkublì concealed himself 94(5). nagkúkublì is hiding (intr.) 232(23). pagkukublì a hiding 186(14). nangúngublì is staying concealed 108(20). 240(16). pangúngublì a staying concealed 272(14). pinagkùkublihàn is being hidden in 94(8). kublíhan hiding-place 36(33). nàkùkublì is in hiding 108(33). pagkákublì a being in hiding 108(23). kúbo hut 118(27). kúgon nipa, Imperata arundinacea 118(27). -kúha: kumúha took 50(38). kumùkúha is taking 112(7). kúnin be taken 202(10). kinúha was taken 30(7). 84(25). kinùkúha is being taken 74(26). pinagkúkuhà is being variously taken 74(7). pagkúnan be taken from 255(35). pagkùkúnan will be taken from 222(35). pinagkúnan was taken from 255(31). pinagkùkúnan is being taken from 255(33). ikinakúha was the cause of taking 272(11). makakùkúha will be able to take 56(40). nakakúha has taken 90(24). nakakùkúha succeeds in taking 54(4). pagkakúha a completed taking 52(36). màkúha get taken 34(9). nàkúha chanced to be taken 58(11). 267(7). kukò fingernail 234(23). manghinukò cut the fingernails 241(24). kúlam magic principle 40(11). mangkukúlam sorcerer 40(1). See médiko. kinúlam was bewitched 42(29). kinùkúlam is being bewitched 40(41). nàkùkúlam is bewitched 42(6). kúlang lack 201(10). kulàng made incomplete 222(35). nagkùkúlang is at fault 96(40). -kulápol: nàkùkulapúlan is encrusted 110(35). Kulàs (S.) n. (for Nicolás) 258(28). Kulása (S.) n. 287(23). kúlay color 171(21). kakúlay of the same color 266(10). kasingkúlay id. 314(37). kulilìng small bell 225(22). kólera S. cholera 42(3). -kulò`: kumúkulò` is boiling, intr. 74(24). nagpakulò` caused to boil 96(20). kulòg thunder 254(36). kulugò wart 228(30). -kulòng: kùlúngan place of imprisonment 86(4). kulungàn cage, crate 238(41). kinàkùkulungàn is the place of accidental imprisonment 86(5). nàkùkulòng is imprisoned 84(42). -kumbidà (S.): kinumbidà was summoned 20(19). kompaniyà S. company 221(20). -kumpisàl (S.) magkumpisàl go to confession 98(22). pagkukumpisàl a going to confession 98(12). nangumpisàl practised going to confession 98(28). nangúngumpisàl goes to confession 56(13). kinúkumpisàl is being given confession 98(7). kumpìsálan confession 98(24). mapagkumpisàl given to going to confession 98(11). nagpápakumpisàl gives confession 98(3). pagpapakumpisàl a giving confession 98(5). pàkumpisálan confessional 96(37). kumpòl cluster 281(35). kumpusisiyòn S. composition 90(15). kumustà S. como está? 230(39). kúmot blanket, sheet 36(39). -kun, see--kúha. kung when, if, whether 16(6). 45. 298-301. kongkristiyános S., see kapatìd. kópiya S. copy 52(10). kúra S. priest 50(3). kuràl S. corral 268(42). korbáta S. necktie 163(36). kurípot stingy 112(16). koréyo S. mail 168(19). -kúro`: pinagkùkúro` is being considered 82(24). mapagkúro` be able to be divined 287(10). napagkùkúro` is able to be divined 52(19). màpagkúro` get figured out 20(18). màpàpagkúro` will get figured out 182(20). nàpagkúro` got figured out 297(13). nàpàpagkúro` is divined, is understood 297(15). koróna S. crown 26(24). -kurùs, see krùs -kuròt: kumuròt pinch 228(13). manguròt pinch people 240(16). kurutìn be pinched 244(24). kurutàn be pinched from 251(43). kùrútan a pinching by many 257(35). kúsa` of its own accord 225(20). kusína` S. kitchen 114(9). kosinéro S. cook 114(1). kutìng kitten 255(37). kutsíliyo S. table-knife 114(9). kutséro S. driver 272(2). kúto head-louse 225(16). See pamatày. kutuhàn lousy person 260(10). kuwáko cigar-holder 220(34). kuwaltà kuwàlta kuwàrta (S.) money 30(33). 141(27). kuwàrto S. room 84(23). -kuwayan, see kawáyan. -kuwènta S.: pagkuwènta a counting 223(6). kuwènto S. story 66(3). pagkukuwènto a story-telling 286(5). kúya kúyang (C.) oldest brother 46(22). 118(15). 59. 254. magkúya oldest brother with brother or sister 242(14). magkukúya pl. 242(30). L laàn that reserved 221(3). inilálaàn is being reserved 248(22). -labà S. ipaglálabà will be washed for 174(40). lában against 22(15). 282. lumában complete 60(40). labánan be opposed 60(36). labanàn war 251(1). nagsìsipaglabanàn are fighting each other 122(15). paglalabanàn a fighting, war, battle 116(27). makipaglában engage in a contest 48(23). pakikipaglában an engaging in a contest 116(29). kalában opponent 266(11). kinàkalában is being opposed 60(38). labanòs (S.) large radish 252(21). labàng trough 289(3). labangàn manger 260(25). labàs the outside 52(38). lumabàs went out 52(34). lumálabàs is going out 74(1). paglabàs a going out 245(3). maglabàs bring out 234(11). ilabàs be brought out 270(32). nilàlabasàn is being come out at 42(14). naglàlàbásan are going out together 236(16). máilabàs get taken out 110(4). palabàs theatrical performance 300(4). papalabàs going out 96(30). nagpápalabàs is bringing out, presenting 303(9). labì added to ten, -teen 58(12). 135. labi ng isà: panglabì-ng-isà number eleven 225(40). ika-labì-ng-isà eleventh 273(24). lábis excessive 172(40). labòng bamboo-sprout 172(25). -ladlàd: iniladlàd was dropped 104(36). lagablàb blaze 231(6). -lagánap: lumagánap circulated, intr. 34(29). lagári` a saw 187(13). manglalagarì` food-sawer 243(17). mapaglagarían be able to be sawed on 288(24). lagày situation, condition 46(8). 90(35). ilagày be placed 108(12). inilagày was placed 220(17). inilálagày 108(42). nilagyàn was put onto, was covered 30(11). 261(30). nilàlagyàn is being put into, is being filled 108(39). làgáyan place where things are put 193(36). 258(38). lalagyàn receptacle 96(25). 261(22). pagkakálagày a placing, position 270(40). kinàlàlagyàn is the place of putting 38(32). 88(5). kalàgáyan position, state 34(34). 176(35). málagày get placed 294(26). pagkálagày chance placing, position 100(20). nagpalagày caused to be placed 24(39). mápalagày chance to stay in a position 22(14). lági` frequently 60(27). 62(15). palági` id. 62(10). -lagkìt: malagkìt sticky 221(26). laglàg that falling 247(3). 257(31). ilálaglàg will be dropped 24(3). inilaglàg was dropped 32(24). nalaglàg fell down 257(28). lagnàt fever 94(30). lagpàk a falling down 58(35). lumagpàk come down on, land 46(38). came down 299(32). lálagpàk will fall down on 244(39). paglagpàk a falling down onto 48(22). nàpàpalagpàk is falling down onto 108(19). -lagò`: malagò` dense 24(31). -lagòk: pagkalagòk a having swallowed 30(20). pagkálagòk a chance swallowing 291(9). -lagòt: malagòt break off, intr. 40(28). nalagòt broke off 261(27). pagkalagòt a breaking off 112(31). lahàt all 26(12). 66. 132. 145. 174. lahàt-lahàt all the various things 74(35). láhi` family, race 275(29). lákad a going, an errand 221(4). lakàd on foot 223(17). lumákad go, walk 18(7). went 283(1). lumàlákad is walking 115(15). paglákad a going 66(18). naglákad drew on foot 234(13). paglalákad a drawing on foot 234(12). maglakàd walk about 122(7). naglálakàd is walking about, journeying 22(31). 66(9). nagsísipaglakàd pl. 58(40). paglalakàd a walking, journeying 66(15). 84(4). maglalakàd traveler 242(43). lakárin be traveled over 118(26). nilákad was walked over 244(24). lakáran be gone to, be gone on 70(6). 252(4). nilakáran was travelled on 32(19). nilàlakáran is being walked on 22(33). lakaràn walking-party 260(13). makalàlákad will be able to walk 104(31). nakalàlákad is able to walk 34(8). nalákad was able to be walked over 283(33). nàlákad chanced to walk 177(17). palákad course 50(6). pagpapalákad a causing to go 288(9). pinalákad was caused to walk 68(41). ipalákad be caused to go 118(19). lakàs force 44(6). See úbos. lumakàs grew strong 76(39). inilakàs was made louder 42(41). lakasàn be done with strength 252(5). kalakasàn strength, loudness 182(23). malakàs strong, loud 18(23). 269(6). pinakamalakàs strongest 309(41). malalakàs pl. 18(15). lakì size 66(12). lumakì grew larger 56(9). nagsilakì pl. 90(5). paglakì a growing larger 300(17). lakhàn be made big 252(6). kalakhàn greatness, most 44(29). 60(39). malakì large 18(18). 69. 99. 110. 138. malalakì pl. 34(38). ikàpagpàpalakì will be the means of causing to grow larger 310(22). kasinglakì of the same size 314(39). magkakasinglakì several of the same size 120(3). lákip: kalákip having the same cover, enclosed with 173(28). laksà` million 134. See isà. -láko`: magláko` peddle 232(23). maglalakò` peddler 226(23). -lála: nilála was woven 46(40). -lalà`: inilalà` was the cause of getting worse 291(17). palalà` getting worse 92(10). laláki man, male 30(31). lálim depth 218(27). ilálim under side 20(28). nilalíman was done deeply 252(7). malálim deep 18(39). pakalalímin be made too deep 309(33). pakalàlalímin will be made too deep 309(34). pinakalálim was made too deep 309(35). lálo` more 24(27). 147. 242. nilalúan was exaggerated 98(5). -lam, see -álam. lamàn flesh, muscle, contents 18(15). 48(1). See piráso. lámang only 28(33). 47. 220. 227. 243. lámat crack 300(17). -lambòt: malambòt soft 163(14). lamìg cold 118(31). lumamìg became cold 296(39). lálamìg will become cold 183(16). kalalamìg what coldness, pl. 268(1). kalamigàn coldness 272(36). malalamìg cold, pl. 219(32). taglamìg cold weather 315(30). lamésa S. table 114(9). -lampàs: lumálampàs is getting excessive 54(27). lamòg bruised 62(28). naglálamòg is getting bruised 62(15). lamòk gnat 303(9). -lámon: lumàlámon is feeding, intr. 228(14). nagsìsilámon pl. 262(21). lalumúnan throat 88(28). landàs path 252(3). lansónes S. fruit of Lansium domesticum Jack. 306(32). lantà withered 76(36). langgàm ant 202(20). langìs oil 74(24). lángit sky, heaven 22(2). kalangitàn heavenly regions 104(24). -langòy: lumangòy swim 28(21). swam 82(33). làngúyan swimming-place 258(40). makipaglàngúyan go along swimming 264(28). makìkipaglàngúyan will join the swimming party 264(30). pàlangúyan place where something is allowed to swim 309(8). -lápad: lapàd widened 306(8). kalapáran wideness 70(40). malápad wide 92(35). -lapàg: inilapàg was placed on the ground 106(16). inilálapàg is being placed on the ground 36(41). nàlàlapàg is lying on the ground 114(43). lápis S. pencil 223(8). -lápit (a) lumápit came near 26(19). lumàlápit is coming near 64(19). paglápit a coming near 66(25). nilapítan was approached 24(22). malápit near 44(27). malalápit pl. 110(18). --(b) With accent-shift: málapìt get near 100(27). màlàlapìt will be near 120(7). nálapìt got near 98(40). pagkálapìt a having got near 46(28). laráwan image 20(4). lariyò (S.) brick 302(41). larò` game; play 46(32). 241(34). maglálarò` will play 232(24). naglarò` played 232(24). nagsipaglarò` pl. 86(31). naglálarò` is playing 46(36). nagsísipaglarò` pl. 46(35). paglalarò` a playing 48(5). laruìn be played with 244(25). làrúan play-ground 139(41). laruwàn toy 84(6). paglaruwàn be used as a plaything 255(37). pinaglaruàn was played in 48(41). pinaglàlaruwàn is being used as a plaything 255(40). makipaglarò` play along 88(20). pakikipaglarò` a playing along 264(25). kalarò` playmate 86(33). kalálarò` there has been playing 267(16). palarò` public games 204(20). pagpapalarò` an allowing to be played 268(9). lasìng drunken 108(32). naglasìng got drunk 282(28). paglalasìng a getting drunk 190(15). nakalálasìng makes drunk 108(8). nakákapaglasìng is able to get drunk 286(38). balasìng an intoxicant plant, Anamirta cocculus 108(7). 314(23). laséta (S.) knife 207(6). láta tin; can 223(26). 292(2). -latà`: panglalatà` extreme fatigue 66(33). -látag: ipinaglàlátag is being spread for 62(35). nàlàlátag is lying stretched out 92(22). pagkàlátag a chance spreading 269(39). latìn S. Latin 28(23). -láon: kalaúnan duration, length 32(1). 86(11). naláon took long 34(20). 70(37). nalàláon takes long 108(27). maláon long, taking long 34(25). 108(35). 69. 110. 138. nalaúnan lasted long 36(33). 38(12). 54(13). lawà, see sa. dalawà two 16(25). 224(22). 67. dalawà ng pù`: pangdalawà-ng-pù` number twenty 225(41). ikadalawà-ng-pù` twentieth 273(24). dalawà ng pù t isà: ikadalawà-ng-pù-t-isà twenty-first 273(25). dádalawà only two 84(30). 224(32). dalá-dalawà two by two 224(10). pangalawà number two 226(7). dadalawáhin having two 54(5). ikalawà second 24(15). makalawà second day, day after tomorrow 180(4). 204(18). 288(33). kamakalawà day before yesterday 166(42). 266(35). 259. makálawà twice 98(1). 262(8). -láwak: maláwak broad 28(26). 72(18). -láwig: lalawígan province 110(13). lalawíga-ng-Pampàngga Pampanga province 210(28). maláwig roundabout 240(32). -lawìt: naglawìt hung out, tr. 232(26). ilawìt be hung out, down 78(1). inilawìt was hung down 78(6). nakalawìt hung down 38(29). -layà`: kalayáan liberty 56(31). láyag a sail 228(17). lumáyag sailed, voyaged 228(16). naglálayàg sails back and forth 258(42). láyas get away 222(4). lumáyas go away 100(8). went away 228(18). làláyas will go away 181(28). nilayásan was deserted 252(9). làyásan a deserting by many 259(30). makàláyas-láyas ever run away 297(24). pagpapaláyas a driving away 36(23). palayásin be driven away 84(22). pinaláyas was driven away 72(11). pinalàláyas is being driven away 72(31). -láyaw: pagpapaláyaw a causing to be fulfilled 312(19). -láyo` (a): kaláyo` what farness, how far? 70(5). maláyo` distant, far 28(26). malaláyo` pl. 82(37). --(b) With accent-shift: málayò` be far away 32(19). 34(11). nàlàlayò` is far away 80(37). líban except 70(12). 114(23). 283. -libàng: paglilibàng an amusing 116(37). lìbángan place for amusing 258(42). malibàng be diverted 204(30). nalibàng became engrossed 70(22). ipinalílibàng is being caused to be amused 116(37). -libìng: paglilibìng a burying 114(21). inilílibìng is being buried 112(30). lìbíngan burial-ground 114(21). pagkálibìng a chance burying 114(25). libreríya S. library 227(36). librò S. book 90(29). líbo thousand 48(28). 52(43). 134. See isà. líbo-líbo a thousand at a time 100(18). makàlìlíbo a thousand times 50(28). 298(38). -líbot: lumíbot took a walk 228(20). naglíbot carried about 234(14). naglibòt went on his errands 70(20). naglílibòt is going about 34(30). nagsísipaglibòt pl. 110(27). paglilibòt a going about 68(2). nalíbot has been gone round to 76(24). -lígaw: paglígaw a courting 46(21). manglilígaw manlilígaw wooer 42(27). 70(10). nilìligáwan is being courted 70(14). -ligàw: paligàw allowing himself to be led astray 32(13). -ligáya: magsiligáya rejoice, pl. 262(21). nakalìligáya is gladdening 202(21). -ligd, see -gílid. -lígid: palígid round about 16(20). 26(8). palígid-lígid all around 32(33). 38(19). ligsì speed 218(30). ligsihàn be done quickly 252(10). maligsì quick 44(37). nagmámaligsì acts quickly 235(41). -ligtàs: nagligtàs saved 291(39). naglíligtàs saves 18(9). pagliligtàs a saving 96(19). iligtàs be saved 88(30). niligtasàn was escaped from 22(28). makapagligtàs be able to save 94(34). máligtàs get saved 92(8). 96(4). náligtàs got saved 122(18). màligtasàn get escaped from 50(30). lígo` bathe, intr. 222(4). malígo` bathe, intr. 28(14). 191(38). malìlígo` will bathe 191(30). nalígo` took a bath 76(37). 285(38). nalìlígo` is bathing 16(2). 32(31). palígo` bath 300(4). paligò` bathed 300(26). pangpalígo` used for bathing 183(23). pagpalígo` a bathing, intr. 40(18). 76(38). 302(20). magsipalígo` bathe, intr. pl. 28(12). 302(23). makapalígo` have bathed 32(37). pagkàpalígo` a chance bathing 313(2). pàliguàn bathroom, bathtub 309(12). nagpalígo` caused to bathe, bathed, tr. 181(36). 303(11). pagpapalígo` a bathing, tr. 303(12). pinalìligúan is being caused to bathe, given a bath 308(14). is being bathed in 308(13). tagapagpalígo` one whose duty it is to bathe, tr. 316(5). -liguwàk: máliguwàk get spilled 174(6). líham letter 154(4). líhim secret 24(32). 40(33). lihìm kept secret 36(22). inilíhim was kept secret 118(41). palihìm secretly 70(14). liìg neck 135(17). 201(10). -liìt: kaliitàn smallness 34(2). 118(1). maliìt small 40(14). maliliìt pl. 34(36). leksiyòn S. lesson 187(24). likòd back 24(26). 68(4). likuràn rear 48(16). 68(11). -talíkod 315(27). tumalíkod turned the back 231(18). pagtalíkod a turning the back 231(18). tinalikdàn was turned the back to 254(21). Lílay (S.) short-n. 264(6). lílim shade 310(43). malílim shady 294(27). limà five 56(33). 67. panglimà number five 225(37). lilimáhin having five 86(21). 247(36). ikalimà fifth 273(18). makálimà five times 298(33). -límang: limàng confused 291(1). nalímang became confused 285(24). limonáda S. lemonade 297(10). limòs alms; ceremonial gift 112(6). maglimòs give alms 78(37). manglilímos alms-seeker 112(10). limusàn be given alms 112(7). nilìlimusàn is being given alms 72(31). nagpápalimòs is asking for alms 72(30). nagsísipagpalimòs pl. 110(28). 304(17). -límot: nalimútan was forgotten 208(7). nalìlimútan is forgotten 92(2). nakalìlímot has forgotten 276(8). -linamnàm: malinamnàm tasty 16(18). -línaw: malínaw clear 38(18). 116(38). lindòl earthquake 289(14). lumílindòl there is an earthquake 281(12). -línis: lumínis get clear 228(21). naglínis cleaned 181(38). naglìlínis is cleaning 182(31). maglilinìs cleaner 242(43). linísin be cleaned 238(6). nilínis was cleaned 56(39). nilìlínis is being cleaned 244(26). kalinísan cleanness 276(32). pinakamalínis cleanest 310(1). malilínis clean, neat, pl. 259(1). lintìk lightning 254(37). linggò (S.) Sunday 50(11). linggò-linggò every Sunday 96(4). -lingkìng: kàlingkíngan little finger 280(13). lípa` a smearing, plastering 196(24). panglípa` used for plastering 225(12). maglilipà` plasterer 242 (43). -lipàd: lumílipàd is flying 88(23). pinalipàd was caused to fly 295(5). -lípas: lipàs elapsed, evaporated 222(38). 287(7). magpalípas allow to elapse 26(39). nagpalípas allowed to elapse 92(3). nagpàpalípas allows to elapse 74(12). 90(7). -lípat: lumípat change one's abode, move 88(43). moved 118(39). 228(23). nagsìsilípat are changing their abode 122(13). ikinalípat was the cause of moving 116(26). màlìlípat will go over 46(2). -lípol: lipúlin be exterminated 24(36). -lipumpòn: nagsísilipumpòn are swarming over 262(22). pinagkàkalipumpunàn is being overrun by many 90(19). 276(9). màpagkalipumpunàn get overrun by many 106(28). 298(30). -lípon: nagsìslípon are swarming over 262(22). nagsìsipaglípon are gathering up 262(37). nagkàkalípon is getting all over 268(32). nalìlípon has been, is able to be gathered together 98(38). 283(34). -litàw: lumitàw bobbed up 78(7). -litsòn S. paglilitsòn a pig-roasting 262(39). litsúnan pig-roasting party 257(37). -litò: pagkalitò a having become confused 72(9). -liwalìw: magliwalìw be idle, loaf 240(23). pagliliwalìw an amusing oneself, pleasure 96(39). liwánag illumination 66(1). lumiwánag became light 201(37). maliwánag bright 66(37). liyàb flame 66(16). léyi S. law 234(36). lubày cessation 100(1). naglubày ceased 66(35). naglúlubày ceases 58(21). lubhà` very 46(33). 147. malubhà` intense 46(7). 78(25). lúbid rope 186(38). -lublòb: naglúlublòb is splashing about 110(25). lóbo S. wolf 299(38). lóbo (S.) balloon 138(31). lubòg immersion, dyeing 251(41). lumubòg went under 78(17). nálubòg got sunk 257(12). nàlùlubòg is immersed 78(13). lubòs complete 40(2). 312(19). lugàr S. place 20(27). -lúgaw: maglúgaw prepare rice-broth 232(27). nilúgaw rice-broth 252(32). -lúgi: ikinalúgi was the cause of losing money 239(43). -lúgit: palúgit handicap 60(38). -lugmòk: nàlùlugmòk is sunk (in an emotion) 92(4). 114(14). -lúha`: lumùlúha` is shedding tears 94(31). -luhòd: lumuhòd kneel down 228(24). knelt down 228(25). nakaluhòd has knelt down, is on his knees 112(1). náluhòd knelt down 295(33). nàlùluhòd is kneeling 22(24). nagpatiluhòd suddenly knelt down 313(29). pagpapatiluhòd a suddenly kneeling down 313(31). nápatiluhòd fell on his knees 313(38). Lúkas S. n. 104(20). luksò jump over 222(5). lumuksò jumped 16(21). pagluksò a jumping 60(14). luksuhàn be jumped onto 252(11). luksúhan jumping by many 257(38). nakipagluksúhan took part in a jumping-contest 264(31). nakìkipagluksúhan takes part in a jumping-contest 204(19). pakikipagluksúhan a jumping with others 62(1). nàpàpaluksò involuntarily jumps up 62(10). luktòn locust 191(32). lóko S. crazy 80(31). panglolóko a fooling 108(3). nilòlóko is being fooled 50(32). kalokóhan insanity 313(25). pagkalóko a fit of insanity 313(22). nàlòlóko is fooled 106(1). lúlan that loaded onto a vehicle; an embarking 100(32). 118(18). 219(40). nagsilúlan embarked, pl. 118(24). ilúlan be put on a vehicle 20(38). inilúlan was put on a vessel 56(24). lulánan be laden 252(12). lùlánan an embarking by many 259(32). màlúlan get put in a vehicle 20(11). Lóleng (S.) short-n. 134(31). lulòd shin 254(35). luluràn be hit on the shin 252(13). the shin 261(25) Corrigenda. lúma` worn-out, old 171(4). lumbò cocoanut-shell drinking-cup 74(5). lumpò lame 219(5). nalumpò became lame 285(28). lúmot moss 313(41). lundàg a leap 48(16). lumundàg leaped 70(39). paglulundàg a leaping about 296(13). lúnes S. Monday 180(5). -lúnod: lunúrin be drowned 16(25). kalunúran be drowned in 274(22). west 18(22). 163(27). kalùlunúran will be the place of drowning 274(23). magkalunòd have drownings 112(13). malúnod get drowned 264(29). nalúnod got drowned 28(22). nangalúnod pl. 88 (31). pagkalúnod a drowning 88(30). 272(23). lunggà` lair, hole 84(29). -lungkòt: ikinalungkòt was the cause of regret 32(37). 88(17). ikinalúlungkòt is the cause of regret 80(30). 272(13). kalungkútan melancholy 92(5). nalungkòt became sad 90(34). nangalungkòt pl. 34(23). nalúlungkòt is sorry 285(25). palalungkútin given to grief 315(9). lúpa` land, ground, earth 16(4). 24(4). 46(38). See hampàs. lúpa-ng-Bùstos ground of Bustos 100(9). lúpa-ng-San-Ildepònso ground of San Ildefonso 100(34). lupaìn land, country 56(17). -lupìt: kalupitàn cruelty 74(20). malupìt cruel 44(30). malulupìt pl. 20(32). lúsong aid 231(42). lusúngin be gone down into 244(27). nilúsong was gone down into 244(27). nilusúngan was gone to the aid of 252(15). lusungàn mutual aid 260(14). lusòng mortar 16(25). lúto` a cooking; that cooked 182(33). 221(8). maglúto` cook 114(3). naglúto` cooked 182(1). naglùlúto` is cooking 108(6). maglulutò` cook 243(1). lutúin be cooked 134(19). nilúto` was cooked 257(35). nilùlúto` linùlúto` is being cooked 244(28). inilùlúto` ilinùlúto` is being cooked 181(18). 248(24). 249(25). ipinaglùlúto` is being cooked for 249(24). lutúan be cooked with 252(15). lutuàn kitchen 114(6). pagkalúto` a past cooking 108(10). nagpàpalúto` causes to be cooked 108(6). loòb inside; spirit, will, opinion 36(5). 40(25). 90(40). See bigày. loòb-loòb modest opinion 98(26). nilóloòb is being intended 307(5). pumaloòb go into the inside 42(10). 302(19). napaloòb got into the inside 104(15). -luwà, see káluluwà. -luwà`: inilúwà` is being spat out 40(28). -luwàg: maluwàg loose, not well fixed 92(38). -luwalháti`: maluwalháti` in good shape 268(36). -luwàng: kaluwángan looseness, width 253(27). maluwàng loose, too wide 289(8). -luwàs: lumuwàs go down-stream 56(21). pagluwàs a going down-stream 297(34). napaluwásan went down-stream together 279(4). 312(8). luwàt long duration 173(39). maluwàt long 40(31). 62(22). 269(7). magmaluwàt take much time 236(2). nagmaluwàt acted slowly 236(1). naluwatàn took long 84(8). M. (see also B, P). m, see na. mà` Uncle, Don, Mr. 256. mabúlo a tree and its fruit Trichodesma zeylanicum 34(40). madlà` populace 24(33). -magàt: pamagàt title 86(19). 300(5). pamagatàn be given a name 42(21). pinamàmagatàn is being given a name 168(8). magíging, magìng see -gìng. mahàl dear 22(11). pagmamahàl a holding dear 72(38). minámahàl is being held dear 62(34). kamàhálan highness, majesty 26(23). kamahalàn dearness, high price 186(9). kinàmahalàn was got dear in 279(17). pinakamahàl dearest 309(38). -mahála`: namàmahála` is ruling 122(4). pàmahalaàn pàmahaláan government 56(15). See báhay. maìs S. maize 248(29). maèstro mayèstro S. master, teacher 88(12). mákina S. machine 203(2). -málas: nàmálas got perceived 36(38). 38(19). málay consciousness 288(18). nagkamálay became conscious 268(33). nakàmálay happened to notice 188(10). nàmaláyan got noticed 42(39). pamaláyan be caused to be noticed 308(15). malì` bad 34(24). 271(42). kamàlían wrongness 297(12). pamalímalì` repeatedly wrong 300(31). Malólos place-n. 110(24). See báyan. máma` uncle, sir 151(35). 59. mámayà` mámiyà` soon 262(9). màn too, as well 16(18). 47. 221. 227. 248. 262.(7).(10).(13). 219. 317(3).(5). mána that inherited 40(5). nàmàmána is inherited 40(11). ipamána be bequeathed 40(30). ipinamàmána is being bequeathed 40(31). pamanáhan be bequeathed to 40(33). manè` peanut 76(16). maníka` (S.) doll 40(14). Manikìs S. family-n. 209(24). mansà S. spot 191(14). mansánas S. apple 182(27). -máno S.: nagmàmáno kisses the hand 56(14). manòk hen, cock, chicken 38(30). 72(36). nagmanòk-manúkan played rooster 237(10). Manuwèl S. n. 228(16). mangà plural sign 16(8). 143(16). 48. 251. manggà S. mango 34(40). See púno`, manggáhan mango-grove 255(11). manggàs S. sleeves 306(24). -manghà`: pagkámanghà` a getting astonished 60(5). nangápamanghà` were astonished 52(18). 312(38). mangkòk (C.?) bowl 248(35). mangmàng ignorant 94(39). kamangmangàn ignorance 82(24). màpápasa, mápasa, see sa. Marikína S. place-n. See báyan. Mariyà S. n. 70(11). Mariyáno S. n. 54(1). Màrkes S. family-n. 189(43). Markíta S. n. 92(29). -masìd: nagmámasìd is observing 100(21). pagmamasìd an observing 272(25). masdàn be looked at 20(32). minàmasdàn is being looked at 252(17). pagmasdàn be observed 255(42). pinagmasdàn was scrutinized 18(4). pagkámasìd a chance looking at, a glancing 168(33). màmasdàn get looked at 88(7). màmàmasdàn will get looked at 96(16). nàmàmasdàn is visible 297(32). masiyádo, see -siyádo. Masòn S. freemason 56(12). matà eye 20(27). See pilìk. matà-matà trellis-work 223(41). minámatà is being looked down on 30(3). matáan be looked round for 254(31). minatáan was looked round for 254(30). kamatà congenial at sight 266(12). mapangmatà given to looking down on people 18(19). nàmatáan got espied 36(3). -matày: ikamámatày will be the cause of dying 94(28). ikinamatày was the cause of dying 186(15). ipagkákamatày will be the cause of a part dying 272(34). kinamatayàn was died in 38(23). Kinamatayà-ng-kabáyo place-n. 221(30). pagkàkamatayàn will be died in by some 275(13). pinagkamatayàn was died in by some 275(10). kamàtáyan death 94(34). mamatày die 40(32). mamámatày will die 32(1). 62(26). namatày died 16(11). nangamatày pl. 286(16). namámatày is dead 74(11). pagkamatày a dying 22(3). 40(27). mamatày-matày be able to die off 287(37). namatayàn was died from 38(9). namàmatayàn is died from 112(19). magpápakamatày will commit suicide 309(23). nagpakamatày committed suicide 309(22). pagpapakamatày suicide 309(24). himatày fainting-fit 314(25). naghíhimatày is fainting 236(6). paghihimatày a fainting 159(6). himatayìn be attacked by a fainting-fit 208(5). hinimatày was attacked by a fainting-fit 246(1). ipinaghimatày was the cause of fainting 88(32). 250(3). matsìng young monkey 110(9). kamatsingàn monkey-tricks 276(32). máy mé there is; having; about 16(8). 48. 69. 110. 138. 252. 331. máy ári`: nagmèmé-ári` has ownership 40(13). máy-roòn same as máy 18(25). 69. 110. 331. -máyaw: magkàmáyaw harmonize 102(13). 270(41). mayèstro, see maèstro. Mayníla` place-n. 50(2). See báyan. médiko S. physician 30(2). médiko-ng-mangkukúlam witch-doctor 42(21). Migèl S. n. 255(33). milágro S. miracle 74(32). nagmìmilágro is working a miracle 104(23). milagróso S. miraculous 74(29). míle-nobisiyèntos-dòs S. 1902 34(27). milòn S. melon 76(16). mínsan once 16(2). 22(34). 39. 42. 262(10). mínsanin be done all at once 246(5). pamínsan-mínsan once in a while 68(10). mésa S. table 173(26). mísa S. mass 50(37). magmísa say mass 96(26). nagmìmísa says mass 96(4). pagmimísa a saying mass 96(18). pagkamísa a having said mass 98(19). makapagmísa be able to say mass 96(14). magpamísa have mass said 72(29). nagpamísa had mass said 72(25). pagpapamísa a having mass said 80(25). mìsmo S. himself 46(18). 72(29). 265(7). míting E. meeting 236(18). miyèrkules S. Wednesday 259(32). mo disj. of ikàw: by thee; of thee 47. 163. mukhà` face 24(23). kamukhà` of the same appearance 266(14). mulà` from 16(7). 284. magmulà` start from 32(7). 284. minulàn was begun 283(9). muláwin a tree, molave, Vitex littoralis Decne 263(27). mulì` again 18(35). 20(17). 148. múna previously, first 40(6). 47. 222. mundò S. world 50(18). Mundò (S.) short-n. 96(38). munisiliyò S. sacristan 253(16). munisípiyo S. town-hall 36(42). muntì` little 174(6). kumuntì` what almost-ness 174(4). múra (a) cheap 219(7). minúra was scolded 90(38). muráhan be done cheaply 252(20). minuráhan was sold too cheaply 252(19). pagmumùráhan a making things cheap 236(31). kamuráhan cheapness 276(33). pinakamúra cheapest 114(41). --(b) With accent-shift: nagmurà cursed 32(38). murahàn mutual reviling 260(16). magmurahàn revile each other 236(34). magmùmurahàn will curse each other 203(39). nagmùmurahàn are reviling each other 236(35). pagmumurahàn a mutual reviling 236(37). kamurahàn one of two who curse at each other 278(22). múra` unripe 22(38). músika S. music 48(31). See bandà. músiko S. musician 110(31). -muò`: ipinagkákamuò` is the cause of partial hardening 272(37). muwàng information 82(6). N (See also D, S, T.) na ng m attributive 15. 20. 37. 45. 49. 119. 122-159 and Syntax, passim. nà already 18(39). 47. 223. 224. 226. 227. 229. 242. 244. 341(3,c). 342. 437. nagíging, see -gìng. -nagínip: panagínip dream 225(13). nanagínip dreamt 240(21). nanànagínip is dreaming 240(20). pananagínip a dreaming 240(17). nàpanagínip was dreamt 297(22). nagìng, see -gìng. nákaw that stolen 221(9). numákaw stole 32(39). pagnákaw a stealing 104(1). magnákaw commit theft 170(4). 244(17). nagnákaw did some stealing 155(41). pagnanákaw thievery 38(2). magnanákaw thief, robber 36(29). nakáwin be stolen 102(24). nànakáwin will be stolen 32(35). ninákaw was stolen 32(36). ninànákaw is being stolen 102(24). pinagnakàw was variously stolen 120(32). nakáwan be stolen from 234(8). ninakáwan was stolen from 252(22). nakawàn robbery 178(37). nakapagnànákaw is able to commit thefts 102(17). mànákaw get stolen 102(27). nànákaw got stolen 102(27). mànakáwan chance to be stolen from 24(3). nànànakáwan chances to be stolen from 102(20). namàn on the other hand, however 22(32). 47. 224. námin, see ámin. nánay mother 116(17). 59. magnánay mother and child 242(15). magnanánay pl. 242(31). nàndon, see doòn. --nang, see ang. Narsíso S. n. 296(30). nása, nàsása, see sa. --nátin, see -átin. -náog: manáog come down from one's dwelling 264(23). nanáog came down 38(16). nanànáog is descending 100(25). panáog come down 151(40). pagpanáog a descending 302(20). magsìsipanáog will descend, pl. 108(13). nagsìsipanáog are descending 106(29). pinanaúgan was come down from 308(18). nawà`, see áwa`. --ni, see si. nì S. nor; any, and, and not 22(22). 48. 68. 253. 319. nilà, see silà and sinà. --ninà, see sinà. --niniyò, see iniyò. --níno, see síno. ningnìng glow 40(16). nagníningnìng glows 40(15). nirè, see irè. --nità, see kità. --nitò, see itò. --niyà, see siyà. --niyàn, see iyàn. --niyáya`, see yáya`. niyòg cocoanut 24(1). See púno`, niyúgan cocoanut-grove 259(3). niyòn, see iyòn. nobéla S. novel 86(19). nóbiyo S. fiancé 92(31). núno` ghost 34(32). -noòd: nanúnoòd is looking on 48(36). nagsísipanoòd pl. 48(29). panunoòd a looking on 296(37). panoorìn be looked at 108(29). pinanónoòd is being looked at 108(32). noòn, see iyòn. Ng (See also K.) ng, see na. ngà` indeed, please 40(21). 47. 226. 229. ngálan name 156(11). pangálan id. 26(16). ngayòn now, today 28(7). 262(11). 302. -ngitì`: ngumíngitì` is smiling 228(26). nàngìngitì` is asmile 92(28). -ngiyàw: ngumiyàw mewed 84(27). ngúnit but 30(6). 320. 322. P (F) pà still, yet, more 24(16). 47. 226. 243. 248. 314. paà foot, leg 18(15). Paà-ng-bundòk place-n. 118(25). pinaahàn was caught by the leg, hurt in the leg 252(25). paanàn be turned the feet to 252(29). base, foot 98(40). pinaanàn was turned the feet to 252(27). paánan base, foot 90(30). Páblo S. n. 283(22). padèr S. wall 52(11). -padpàd: nápadpàd was cast by chance 96(2). pag when, if 32(13). 45. 300. 303. pagakpàk applause 219(41). pagakpakàn be applauded 197(36). pàgakpákan applause by many 257(40). pagigìng, see -gìng. pagítan place between, interval 258(31). 271(17). pumagítan took position between 228(26). pamamagítan an acting as means 24(33). 38(34). ipinagítan was placed between 248(25). nàpàpagítan is between 171(21). pagkà as soon as, after, when 181(27). 48. 296. 300. 304. 306. pagkìt wax 221(11). págod weariness 76(1). pagòd tired 66(33). pagòng turtle 16(1). Páho` place-n. 120(11). páin bait 108(14). pagpapáin a catching with bait 108(39). pákay purpose, aim 50(33). páko` nail 218(38). páko ng babà`: mapagpáko-m-babà` over-modest 289(28). pakuàn nailing-place 260(20). nàpàpáko` is nailed 20(24). pakuwàn watermelon 203(37). palà but otherwise 209(25). 47. 228. 301. pála` gift, prize, favor 90(12). See gantì. pálad palm of hand 106(37). See kasamaàn, kasawiàn, sawì`. nagkapálad had good fortune 34(3). 78(38). nagkàkapálad has the good fortune 40(24). kapaláran fortune 60(17). palakà` frog 228(11). palakòl hatchet 240(5). palànsa plànsa (S.) flat-iron 212(32). 227(42). pinalànsa was ironed 244(30). palásiyo S. palace 26(26). palatòn S. dish 193(3). pálay rice, standing or in hull 163(19). See bantày, tánod. palayòk earthenware pot 74(5). palibhása` for the reason, because 54(20). 265(8). palìt exchange 148(26). pinalitàn was supplanted 104(12). pálo` hit, strike 183(25). pamálo` club, cudgel 70(16). palúin be caned 195(35). ikinàpálo` was the cause of getting thrashed 273(34). pagkàpálo` a thrashing that was got 272(16). pálong comb of rooster 291(16). famíliya S. family 54(4). Pampàngga S. place-n. 173(9). See lalawígan, provìnsiya. pána` arrow 228(28). pumána` shot an arrow at 228(28). pinána` was shot with an arrow 244(31). nakàpána` chanced to hit with an arrow 291(32). panahòn time 34(25). 50(5). 52(32). -pánaw: pumánaw departed 228(29). pumàpánaw is departing 92(25). pagpánaw a departing 114(17). pinanáwan was parted from 92(27). panày constant 72(20). 82(6). kapanayàn continuance 276(34). -panhìk: pumanhìk entered (a dwelling), went up into (a house) 38(27). 72(8). pumápanhìk is entering 106(9). pinanhikàn was entered 175(41). mápanhìk get in 106(15). pagkápanhìk a getting in 72(9). pinapanhikàn was caused to be entered 52(14). paníki bat 210(26). See báhay. paniyò S. handkerchief 147(1). pansìn noticeable 219(8). pansinìn be paid attention to 46(1). pàpansinìn will be minded 96(35). pinansìn was paid attention to 20(41). 94(2). pinápansìn is being paid attention to 54(19). nàpàpansìn gets noticed 100(19). pantày leveled 223(32). pantày-kawáyan height of a bamboo-plant 218(28). pantày-pantày even, all level 118(30). 291(5). kapantày of the same height 173(28). magkapantày both of the same height 270(3). kasingpantày id. 104(6). 315(1). páno, see anò. --panukála`, see akála`. panòt bald-headed 219(10). -pangàw: nakapangàw is pilloried 110(5). nangàpàpangàw have got into the pillory 110(9). panginoòn master 62(39). 86(31). 226(3). pangkàt group, team 46(34). 76(21). 110(31). pangkàt-pangkàt group by group 110(30). pangnàn hand-basket 261(40). pangpàng bank of stream 28(13). Kapampángan Pampanga 189(23). Kakapampangánan the Pampanga country 277(12). papáno, see anò. --pápasa, see sa. papáya S. papaw 163(18). papèl S. paper 50(39). pára like 36(12). 67. 275. parà pára S. for 90(11). 286. 288. párang forest 62(29). kaparángan wooded regions 82(36). pári` S. priest, Father 20(4). 256. parého S. equal 257(42). paré-parého all equal 40(13). 224(1). Parìs S. Paris 220(31). partè S. part 82(21). kapartè share 16(6). -parò: parù-parò butterfly 88(24). pása, see sa. pasà` bruise 62(27). pásak that calked with 221(10). pasakàn calking-place 260(23). pasàn that carried on the shoulders 98(36). pumápasàn carries on the shoulders 22(32). pàpasanìn will be carried on the shoulder 104(34). pinasàn was carried on the shoulder 104(38). Pasífiko S. Pacific 259(1). Pásig the Pasig; see ílog. pasígan beach 16(4). -pasiyàl (S.): magpasiyàl take a walk 32(2). magsipagpasiyàl pl. 32(13). magpápasiyàl will take a walk 232(28). magsísipagpasiyàl pl. 32(15). nagpasiyàl took a walk 182(7). nagsipagpasiyàl pl. 279(1). nakapagpasiyàl was able to take a walk 200(14). papasí-pasiyàl walking about at intervals 96(6). -pasiyènsiya S.: magpasiyènsiya rest content 56(8). -paséyo S.: nagpàpaséyo forms a procession 48(40). paskò S. Easter; Christmas 220(24). pastòl (S.) herdsman 116(7). páso` a burn 220(1). pasò` burnt; pottery 222(40). pumáso` burned 228(30). mamáso` a blister 241(39). 244(12). namáso` scorched 240(21). napáso` has been burned 284(41). -pások: pumások go in, enter 78(30). went in 30(17). 38(31). 50(19). pumàpások enters 42(13). pàpások will go in 192(5). pagpások a going in 42(12). 96(26). pasúkin be violently entered 262(19). pinások was illicitly entered 237(41). pinàpások is being penetrated 118(30). pinasúkan was entered 36(36). makapások be able to enter 74(31). makapàpások will be able to enter 22(4). nakapások was able to enter 80(2). 116(21). pagkapások a having gone in 38(32). pagkàpások the way of getting put in 291(11). màipások get put in 108(41). nàpasúkan chanced to be come upon in entering 297(37). papások going in; asking to be taken in; ask to be taken in 204(22). 299(29). 301(24). papàpások will ask to be taken in 301(40). pagpapapások a causing to enter 272(39). papasúkin be caused to enter 72(26). 80(30). mapapàpások will ask to be taken in 311(34). napapások caused himself to be taken in; was able to be caused to enter 311(23.32). -pátag: ikinàpátag chanced to be the cause of staying quiet 116(11). patàk a drop 96(29). patày dead person 20(8). 38(25). pamatày used for killing 225(15). pamatày-kúto louse-killer, thumb 225(15). pumatày (arch. matày) kill 231(2). pagpatày a killing 227(4). patayìn pataìn be killed 84(22). pàpatayìn pàpataìn will be killed 28(20). 44(16). pinatày was killed 244(33). patayàn be killed for 252(32). pinagpatayàn was killed in 274(31). pàtáyan mortal combat; slaughter-house 190(15). 259(3). kapàpatayàn will be the place of killing 279(18). kapàtáyan one of two who kill each other 277(42). mapatày be able to be killed 283(35). napatày has been killed 284(14). pagkapatày a having killed 282(35). mápatày get killed 36(19). 293(42). màpàpatày will get killed 18(12). nápatày got killed 26(12). 38(3). 84(28). pagkápatày a chance killing 291(12). 292(15). ipinapápatày is being caused to be extinguished 122(6). patì also, even 110(34). 112(20). 68. 305. patìd a breaking, an interruption 42(4). 44(42). 58(1). broken 223(33). pumatìd break, tr. 228(31). kapatìd broken from the same piece; brother, sister 32(8). 266(16). kapatìd-kongkristiyános brother-Christians 50(22). 210(16). magkapatìd two brothers or sisters, brother and sister 46(20). magkakapatìd pl. 270(14). kinákapatìd child of one's godparents 271(30). magkinákapatìd two people, one of whom is the child of the other's godparents 271(31). magkikinákapatìd pl. 271(32). kapàpatiràn will be the place of breaking 274(29). kinapatiràn was the place of breaking 274(27). kapàtíran one of two who break together 277(43). mapatìd break off, cease 60(9). napatìd broke off 78(16). napatiràn was broken in, suffered a fracture 88(28). patìs shrimp-sauce 259(5). patisàn be spiced with shrimp-sauce 252(33). pàtísan cannery for shrimp-sauce 259(5). pátiyo S. court-yard 98(20). Patrísiyo S. n. 275(28). patrúliya S. patrol 122(20). páto S. duck 116(38). patumanggà` regard, consideration 22(24). -pátung: nàpàpátung is placed on 116(1). Patúpat derisive n. 50(3). -páwi`: pawì` allayed 222(42). nakapàpáwi` will allay 28(35). 280(37). napáwi` has subsided 279(34). páwid nipa fibre 30(37). -páwis: pumàpáwis is sweating 22(8). -páyag: pumáyag consent 30(5). consented 18(29). pumàpáyag consents 228(34). ipináyag was granted 248(26). pinayágan was agreed to 252(33). payápa` tranquil 219(11). kapayapaàn tranquility 116(9). páyo advice 52(24). ipináyo was suggested 28(36). páyong umbrella 166(27). Pédro S. n. 20(2). pígil that restrained 134(28). pigìl under control 223(1). nagsipígil controlled, pl. 282(14). pigílin be brought under control 66(23). nàpigílan got restrained 66(17). 100(36). -píhit: pumìpíhit turns round 68(10). pího surely 18(11). piního was ascertained 44(33). piklàt scar 219(9). pìknik E. picnic 235(34). píko S. a pick 58(33). -píli`: pumíli` chose 228(34). mamíli` choose out 16(24). namíli` selected 186(20). piníli` was chosen 244(34). màpíli` get chosen 241(34). nàpìpíli` is preferred 293(21). pilìk fin, lash 210(30). Corrigenda. pilìk-matà eyelash 210(30). Corrigenda. pilikàn have the fins removed 252(34). píling side, proximity 90(8). Felípe S. n. 208(1). Filipínas S. the Philippines 40(2). See kapuluàn. -pílit: pumílit effected by trying hard 228(37). pumìpílit is trying hard 228(35). pagpílit a trying hard 64(1). nagpílit tried very hard 44(5). 50(14). nagpìpílit tries very hard 44(20). 234(17). nagpùpumílit is making an extreme effort 168(14). 235(32). pilítin be striven for 18(17). 184(35). pinílit was compelled 244(35). pagpilítan was striven for 297(2). napìpilítan is compelled 112(28). pelóta S. ball 48(11). pínsan cousin 39. 42. magpipínsan group of cousins 242(32). pintà S. paint, painting 219(12). pintahàn be painted 252(35). pintáhan place for paint; see báhay. pintàs that found fault with 221(13). pintasàn be found fault with 252(36). pintásan mutual fault-finding 257(42). kapintásan reprehensible quality 310(40). pintò` door 78(30). See bantày. pintúan doorway 22(2). pinggà carrying-pole 158(12). pinggàn dishes 114(7). pípa S. cigarette-mouthpiece 249(29). Pépe S. short-n. 279(5). pípe dumb 86(23). napípe became dumb 285(28). pagkapípe dumbness 86(23). pipíno S. cucumber 76(16). pipìt stone-sparrow 197(21). péras S. pears 189(16). piráso (S.) piece broken off piráso-ng-káhoy piece of wood 56(38). piráso-ng-lamàn piece of meat 108(42) Corrigenda. pirasúhin be broken off 252(6). mapiráso go to pieces 300(19). napiráso went to pieces 284(42). pirìnsa (S.) flat-iron 212(32). pinirìnsa was ironed 223(4). Píro (S.) n., for Pédro. 138(28). píso S. peso, half-dollar 102(38). -pitàg: pìtágan respect 118(9). pinagpìpìtagánan is being respected 256(8). pítak section 247(11). pinítak section of rice-field 247(10). -pitàs: pumitàs pick, pluck 22(35). picked 282(40). pitasìn be picked 244(36). pìpitasìn will be picked 22(37). pamìmitasìn will be picked selectively, in quantity 247(2). pinamímitàs is being gathered 246(42). pitasàn be picked from 252(37). pamitasàn be gathered from 256(36). pamìmitasàn will be gathered from 256(38). nagpìtásan picked together 236(17). napitàs has been picked 284(43). nápitàs got picked 293(22). nàpìpitàs is picked 24(16). pitìk fillip 225(14). pamitìk single rein 72(1). pumitìk give a fillip 228(37). Pétra S. n. 240(29). fétsa S. date 271(16). pitsòn S. pigeon 252(32). píto S. small flute, whistle 227(39). pitò seven 20(5). 67. pitò ng pù`: pamitò-ng-pù` number seventy 225(42). pamitò number seven 225(38). ikapitò seventh 32(4). piyáno S. piano 167(21). fiyèsta piyèsta S. fiesta 98(35). 137(37). kapiyestáhan holiday 110(11). plànsa, see palànsa. Pransìsko S. n. 50(20). presidènte S. magistrate 38(1). -prubà S.: prubahàn be proved 52(3). pùprubahàn will be proved 52(4). provìnsiya S. province 50(1). provìnsiya-ng-Pampàngga Pampanga province 210(29). pò` deferential particle 20(37). 47. 229. pù` ten 38(6). 134. See isà, dalawà, etc. púgad nest 228(9). -pukpòk: pamukpòk mallet 90(30). pumúpukpòk is pounding 228(38). pukòl a throw 106(36). pagpukòl a throwing 281(35). magpupukòl throw repeatedly 238(38). pinúpukòl is being thrown at 112(8). mapamukòl given to throwing things 289(39). pulà red, redness 147(1). pulahàn all red 261(12). kapulà what redness 173(40). Polikàrpiyo S. family-n. 189(43). polìs S. policeman 34(26). pùlpito S. pulpit 20(28). pulò` island 255(14). kapuluàn kapuluwàn archipelago 24(30). kapuluà-ng-Filipínas the Philippine archipelago 56(24). pulúbe beggar 72(30). púlong crowd 229(13). púlot that picked up 221(15). namúlot gathered up 32(23). mámumulòt gleaner 243(17). pinamúlot was picked up selectively, in quantity 247(3). pinulútan was picked up in 252(38). pùlútan a scramble 259(33). nàpúlot got picked up 62(30). nàpùpúlot gets picked up 40(8). pulòt honey 174(7). -púnas: nagpùpúnas is scrubbing 232(29). pinùpunásan is being scrubbed 252(40). púnit small hole, tear 169(2). punìt-punìt full of small holes 259(6). -punlà`: punláan germinating-plot 243(40). punsò ant-hill 66(1). puntà S. direction of going 106(2). nagsipuntà went to, pl. 116(18). púpuntà will go to 193(24). nagsísipuntà are going to 108(1). pagpuntà a going toward 104(35). 106(4). 116(20). puntahàn be gone to 40(9). pinuntahàn was gone toward 32(20). papuntà towards 84(36). napapúpuntà is able to be directed 48(10). púno` head: of wood (i. e. tree) 16(8). of grass (i. e. blade) 76(31). of bridge 248(16). stem end of fruit 203(38). chief 306(11). beginning 50(15). púno-ng-damò blade of grass 76(29). púno-ng-káhoy tree 34(39). púno-ng-manggà mango-tree 254(37). púno-ng-niyòg cocoanut-tree 22(34). púno-ng-ságing banana-tree 16(3). púno-ng-súha` grape-fruit-tree 36(34). pinúno` chief, official 56(27). 116(22). pàmunúan initiator 262(7). punò` filled, full 36(40). 76(30). punàn be completed, be added to 252(41). pùnúan all full 118(21). 258(1). napunò` became full 26(9). purgà S. purge 230(11). purgatóriyo S. purgatory 50(17). púri honor, respectability 94(12). See kasiraàn. nagpúri an honoring 48(38). 60(9). nagpurihàn praised one another 236(39). nagpùpurihàn are praising one another 236(41). mapúri honorable 289(8). nagmápurì praised himself 238(25). nagmàmàpurì is praising himself 238(25). pagmamápurì praising oneself 238(26). nagpakamápurì praised himself much 309(28). Port-Àrtur S. Port Arthur 306(19). -puròl: mapuròl dull 225(6). mapúpuròl will get dull 248(31). púsa` cat 84(1). pustà S. a bet 60(29). nagsipustà made a bet, pl. 60(34). pustáhan a betting together 60(33). 102(40). nakipagpustáhan entered into a bet with 102(34). púso` heart 218(24). -putàk: nagpúpuputàk is cackling much 238(40). pùtákan cackling by many 238(10). palapùtákin given to cackling 315(10). fùtbol E. football 46(35). putì` white 219(12). pàputiìn be made too white 305(12). pàputiàn be made very white 308(39). pútik mud, clay 86(37). putíkan be made muddy 253(1). putikàn muddy place, person, thing; clay-pit 166(19). 260(24). mapútik muddy 110(14). púto cake, bun 32(15). putòk crash, report 259(34). pumutòk made a crash; there was a crash 64(31). pinùputukàn is reached by a crash 106(33). pútol a cut; that cut 220(2). 221(16). p. nang p. cuts and cuts 222(10). putòl cut 223(3). putòl-putòl all cut up 224(16). pamútol used for cutting 225(16). pumútol cut 154(4). 199(27). 226(26). magsipútol cut, pl. 262(26). nagsipútol cut, did cut, pl. 190(22). pumùpútol is cutting 228(39). nagsìsipútol pl. 262(24). pùpútol will cut 228(40). magsìsipútol pl. 191(8). pagpútol a cutting 196(34). magpútol cut several things, cut on oneself 228(21). magsipagpútol pl. 262(38). magpùpútol will cut 234(21). magsìsipagpútol pl. 262(41). nagpútol cut 234(24). nagsipagpútol pl. 263(2). nagpùpútol is cutting 202(14). nagsìsipagpútol pl. 263(3). pagpupútol a cutting 234(19). magputòl cut variously or repeatedly, cut up 237(37). magpúputòl will cut 237(38). nagputòl cut 237(40). nagpúputòl is cutting 237(42). nagpúpuputòl is cutting to bits 239(9). magpuputòl cutter 243(1). mamútol cut selectively, in quantity, or as occupation 220(21). magsipamútol pl. 263(24). mamùmútol will cut 240(29). magsìsipamútol pl. 263(26). namútol cut 240(27). namùmútol is cutting 240(27). mámumutòl cutter 243(18). pamumútol a cutting 240(23). putúlin be cut 244(42). pùputúlin will be cut 58(27). 207(5). pinútol was cut, cut off, stopped 38(34). 44(26). 154(10). pinùpútol is being cut 58(36). 248(34). pagputulìn be cut up 246(27). pinagpúputòl is being cut up 246(25). ipútol be cut for 248(29). ipùpútol will be cut for 248(29). ipinútol was cut for or with 154(15). 175(31). 248(28). ipinùpútol is being cut for or with 181(15). 202(6). ipagpútol be cut for 249(26). ipagpùpútol will be cut for 249(27). ipinagpútol was cut for or with 249(28). ipinagpùpútol is being cut for or with 249(29). ipamútol be used for cutting 250(17). ipinamútol was used for cutting 250(13). ipinamùmútol is being cut with or for, in quantity 187(13). 250(14). putúlan putlàn be cut from 253(5). pùputúlan pùputlàn will be cut from 253(7). pinutúlan was cut from 118(28). 154(20). pinùputlàn is being cut from 60(1). 253(3). pagputúlan be cut on 256(1). pagputulàn be cut from variously 256(13). pinamutúlan was cut from selectively or in quantity 158(10). 256(40). pinamùmutúlan is being cut from 256(33). nagputulàn cut together 236(43). pakipútol that cut with others or as a favor 184(3). 263(40). makipútol cut by permission 264(12). makìkipútol will cut along with others 206(11). nakipútol cut by permission 264(8). nakìkipútol is cutting by permission 264(10). pakikipútol a cutting by permission 264(13). pakikipamútol a cutting, as occupation, by permission 264(39). pakiputúlin be cut as a favor 264(43). ipakipútol be cut as a favor 184(1). ipakìkipútol will be asked to be cut 265(13). ipakipagpútol be cut with as a favor 265(19). ipakìkipagpútol will be cut for as a favor 265(23). ipinakipagpútol was asked to be cut for 265(25). ipinakìkipagpútol is being asked to be cut for 172(26). 265(28). kapútol piece; brother, sister 16(5). 266(16). magkapútol two such 270(5). magkakapútol pl. 270(16). kàkapútol only a piece 267(6). kapùpútol there has just been cutting 267(17). kapagpùpútol there has just been cutting of several things 267(20). kapàpamútol there has just been cutting in quantity 267(23). magkaputòl get broken in numbers 182(22). magkákaputòl will many of them get broken 269(10). nagkaputòl got broken in numbers 269(11). nagkákaputòl is breaking in numbers 269(13). magkáputòl-putòl break into many pieces 255(21). magkàkàputòl-putòl will break into many pieces 271(23). nagkáputòl-putòl broke into many pieces 271(19). nagkàkàputòl-putòl gets mangled 271(21). ikapútol be the cause of breaking 158(12). ikapùpútol will be the cause of breaking or involuntary cutting 272(19). ikinapútol was the cause of breaking 272(15). ikinapùpútol is the cause of breaking 272(17). ipagkaputòl be the cause of breaking in numbers 273(9). ipinagkaputòl was the cause of breaking in numbers 273(11). ipinagkákaputòl is the cause of breaking in numbers 273(7). kapùtúlan one of two who cut together 278(10). makapútol be able to cut 269(7). makapùpútol will be able to cut 281(41). nakapútol has cut 282(22). nakapùpútol is able to cut 281(39). mapútol have been cut, be able to be cut 38(35). 60(4). 283(37). mapùpútol will be able to be cut 283(38). napútol has been cut, was cut 261(26). nangapútol pl. 286(17). napùpútol has just been cut, is cut 284(15). 285(1). nangapùpútol pl. 286(19). pagkapútol a having cut 282(37). makapagpútol be able to cut several things 286(43). nakapagpútol has cut 286(41). nakapagpùpútol is able to cut 286(42). maputúlan be cut from 185(21). mapùputúlan will be cut from 288(13). naputúlan was cut from 288(9). napùputúlan is cut from 288(10). napagputúlan was able to be cut on 288(26). makàpútol chance to cut 290(28). makàpùpútol will chance to cut 290(30). nakàpútol chanced to cut 24(34). 290(20). nakàpùpútol is by chance cutting 290(23). màpútol get cut 294(3). màpùpútol will get cut 294(5). nàpútol got cut 293(24.43). 294(2). nàpùpútol gets cut, is cut 201(30). pagkàpútol the way cutting got done 291(15). màputúlan get cut from 238(2). màpùputúlan will get cut from 297(41). nàputúlan got cut from 297(38). nàpùputúlan gets cut from 297(39). papútol that caused to be cut 299(15). paputòl transversely 166(21). kapàpapútol there has just been causing to cut 301(11). kapagpàpapútol there has just been causing to cut several things 301(13). papùpútol will ask to have cut 302(2). magpapútol cause to be cut 225(1). magpàpapútol will cause to be cut 191(6). nagpapútol caused to be cut 303(13). nagpàpapútol is causing to be cut 303(14). pagpapapútol a causing to be cut 303(15). paputúlin be caused to be cut 304(39). papùputúlin will be caused to cut 304(40). pinapútol was caused to cut 153(23). pinapùpútol is being caused to cut 304(37). papagputúlin be caused to cut on oneself 305(23). papagpùputúlin will be caused to cut several things 305(24). pinapagpútol was caused to cut 181(27). pinapagpùpútol is being caused to cut 181(16). papamutúlin be caused to cut selectively, in quantity, or as occupation 305(35). papamùmutúlin will be caused to cut 305(36). ipapútol be caused to be cut 306(25). ipapùpútol will be caused to be cut 306(23). ipinapútol was caused to be cut 204(10). ipinapùpútol is being caused to be cut 306(22). ipakipapútol be asked to be caused to be cut 307(29). ipakìkipapútol will be asked to be caused to be cut 307(32). ipinakipapútol was asked to be caused to be cut 307(34). paputúlan be caused to be cut from 308(24). papùputúlan will be caused to be cut from 308(25). pinaputúlan was caused to be cut from 308(19). pinapùputúlan is being caused to be cut from 308(22). makapagpapútol be able to cause to be cut 311(12). makàkapagpapútol will be able to cause to be cut 311(15). nakapagpapútol has been caused to be cut 311(8). nakàkapagpapútol is able to cause to be cut 311(10). napapútol asked to be cut for 311(38). napapùpútol asks to be cut for 311(40). palaputulìn brittle 315(21). tagapútol person whose duty it is to cut 315(32). poòk place, district 40(2). poòn lord, saint 104(5). 182(40). pinópoòn is being worshipped 189(3). -puwà`, see kápuwà`. -púyat: nagpúyat staid up, watched 232(30). nagpuyàt repeatedly staid up 238(1). pagpupuyàt a repeated staying up 297(7). namùmúyat keeps from sleeping, keeps up 240(31). pinúyat was kept up late 245(2). S. sa loc. particle 16(2). 45. 49. 195-212. 306. 515. sa lawà: sà-lawáhan fickle 94(1). 259(20). sa ulè`: pagsa-ulàn be returned to 62(12). 72(13). pinagsa-ulàn was returned to 44(25). 256(7). nása is in 18(22). 314(7). nangása pl. 118(35). násàsa is being in 36(16). 44(1). pása go to 20(18). 314(9). pápàsa will go to 314(10). mápasa get to 94(4). mápàpasa will get to 314(15). nápasa went by chance 116(30). 279(4). nápàpasa comes by chance to 106(26). pagkápasa a chance coming to 60(21). 314(16). sà, see isà. saàn loc. of anò: where? to what? 42(14). 64(37). 316(34). 264. -sabàd: isinabàd was said in interruption, was thrust in 102(22). -sabày: sabày-sabày all at the same time 224(2). sinabayàn was accompanied 82(32). pagkakásabày a happening at the same time 270(42). sábi that said 24(8). 74(36). 198(12). 276. sabì-sabì chance talk 116(10). 120(9). nagsábi said 26(14). 36(29). nagsipagsábi pl. 26(5). nagsàsábi is saying 156(40). pagsasábi a saying 155(24). sabíhin be said 30(15). 50(24). sàsabíhin will be said 20(11). 30(14). sinábi was said 16(17). sinàsábi is being said 96(9). pinagsabì was variously said 156(13). pinagsabì-sabì was repeatedly said 246(34). ipinagsábi was told about 249(35). pinagsabíhan was told, was ordered 20(15). 32(26). kasabihàn proverb 276(11). pagkasábi a having said 70(28). makapagsábi be able to tell 52(9). nakapagsábi was able to tell 76(25). màsàsábi will get said 92(37). pagkàsábi a getting said 80(1). 100(36). -sábit: sabitàn clothes-rack 258(38). nakasábit is hanging (from a nail, peg, etc.) 281(4). -sábog: nagsábog strewed 16(20). nàsàsábog is lying scattered 90(30). 108(19). nangàsábog got scattered, pl. 293(40). sabòn S. soap 184(34). -sábong: pangsábong used for cock-fighting 297(42). pagsasábong cock-fighting 312(17). sabungàn cockpit, cock-fight 304(1). sabungéro cock-fighter 98(21). 316(11). -sabuwàt: kasabuwàt accomplice 298(19). sáboy a sprinkling 68(3). sumàsáboy is splashing, intr. 228(41). pagsáboy sprinkling 68(40). nagsàsáboy is scattering 68(9). isináboy was sprinkled 268(11). sinàsabúyan is being sprinkled at 68(24). napàpasáboy falls scattering 70(4). sadiyà` that come for 38(26). 78(28). 221(18) magsadiyà` go for one's purpose 74(28). nagsadiyà` went for his purpose 74(33). sinadiyà` was done intentionally 233(36). sinásadiyà` is being done intentionally 62(13). 98(32). sagàd close-cropped 219(13). -sagása`: sumagása` knock, jostle 229(1). sagasáin be hit upon, be conflicted with 245(3). sinagasáan was bumped into 22(24). nagsàgasaán jostled each other 237(1). pagsasàgasaàn a jostling each other 237(1). màsagasáan get run into 271(22). nàsagasáan got run into 297(43). ságing banana 16(8). See púno`. sagíngan banana-grove 250(40). sagitsìt sizzling 114(10). sagòt that answered 26(23). 44(15). sumagòt answer 44(10). answered 26(1). sumásagòt answers 44(2). sinagòt was given an answer 191(41). isinagòt was said in reply 16(18). makasagòt be able to answer 76(4). nakasagòt was able to answer 68(21). saguwàn a paddle 261(41). sumaguwàn paddled 229(1). pagsaguwàn a paddling 82(12). sahìg flooring, floor 114(43). isinásahìg is being used as flooring 248(32). -sáhod: sumáhod hold under 229(1). isáhod be held under 248(34). -sáing: magsáing cook rice dry 232(30). sináing ration of rice, not yet served 229(8). sakà` then, afterwards 52(30). 68(21). 243. -sakàl: pagsakàl choking 227(5). sakatéro S. grass-cutter 96(2). sakày person carried in a vehicle 80(36). pangsakày used for riding or driving 225(18). sumakày mount, ride 72(1). mounted 52(37). sumásakày is mounting, is getting on or in (a vehicle) 229(2). pagsakày mounting, riding 70(40). 167(41). nagsakày took into a vehicle 234(25). pagsasakày a taking into a vehicle 272(2). isinakày was put on a vehicle 306(16). ipinagsakày was taken into a vehicle 249(37). sakyàn be embarked in 253(10). sinakyàn was ridden in 253(9). sinàsakyàn is being ridden in 82(32). sàkáyan embarkation by many 258(3). sasakyàn vehicle 219(35). nakíkisakày embarks along with others 98(18). ikinásakày was the cause of chance mounting 273(36). nakasakày has mounted, is mounted 100(23). 281(15). nakasásakày is able to mount 281(43). pagkasakày a past mounting, ability to mount 282(12.39). nasakyàn was able to be mounted 228(16). násakày got put on a vehicle 294(28). nàsàsakày is in a vehicle 114(22). pagkásakày a chance mounting or riding 292(17). 294(36). 295(41). nàsakyàn got mounted 298(1). pasakày that caused to be taken into a vehicle 299(17). in riding position, astride 299(30). nagpasakày caused to be put on a vehicle 268(25). pagpapasakày a causing to be put on a vehicle 303(17). ipinasakày was caused to be put on a vehicle 306(26). ipinagpasakày was caused to be used for riding 307(21). pinasakyàn was caused to be mounted 308(28). ipinagkápasakày was the cause of causing to ride 310(18). sakdàl accusation 54(36). isinakdàl was charged 56(12). ipinagsakdàl was accused 54(31). -sakìm: kasakimàn selfishness 28(34). 74(20). sákit (a) grief 223(20). pasákit suffering caused 42(43). nagpasákit caused suffering to be undergone 303(20). ipinasákit was caused to be suffered 22(7). pinasàsakítan is being caused to suffer 40(40). --(b) Accent shifted: sakìt pain, sickness 30(28). 42(3). 223(18). sumakìt hurt, injure 188(30). sinàsaktàn is being hurt 60(1). 70(15). nagkasakìt got sick 54(7). 78(24). pagkakasakìt a getting sick 269(8). ipinagkasakìt was the cause of getting sick 273(14). nakasakìt cause injury 313(32). masakìt sore 40(41). 281(31). masaktàn be hurt 206(24). masàsaktàn will be hurt 204(2). nasaktàn got hurt 264(25). palasàkítin one who easily gets sick 315(14). sáko S. sack 104(15). -sákop: sakòp included 290(31). pagsákop an including, a saving 306(42). mànanákop savior 20(33). nasàsákop is included, is under control 116(31). sála failure, offense 38(2). sumála fail, miss, 64(42). failed 229(4). saláhan be omitted, skipped 253(11). sanglàn be missed 253(14). sinanglàn was missed 253(12). nagkàsála sinned against 271(1). pagkakàsála a sinning against 290(1). kasalánan sin 20(32). 98(7). makasalánan 22(1). 74(22). 289(22). pagkasála a having missed 272(10). 286(3). salakàb fish-trap 243(7). mánanalakàb fish-trapper 243(7). -salákay: pagsalákay an attacking 122(10). pananalákay a repeated attacking 122(23). sinalakáyan was attacked 122(9). salakòt rain-hat of palm-leaves 212(22). salamangkà S. sleight-of-hand trick 202(37). salámat thanks 16(32). 152(4). magpasalámat give thanks, thank 160(15). napasalámat was thankful 88(16). salamìn glass, looking-glass, eye-glass 60(7). 238(39). n. of dog 147(22). salapì` money; half-dollar 30(27). 252(41). salàt needy 219(14). kasalatàn lack 239(35). salawàl trousers 122(1). -salaysày: isinalaysày was narrated 38(5). salbáhi S. savage, brutal; brute 44(4). 50(17). 70(25). kasalbahíhan brutality 54(28). -sáli: isáli be taken along, be included 248(37). isináli was included 248(36). kasáli participant 22(18). 48(5). nàkasáli got taken as companion 296(28). makàsáli chance to take part 114(28). salità` word, speech 18(13). 20(41). magsalità` speak 28(39). 80(37). nagsalità` spoke 104(19). pagsasalità` a speaking 80(40). pananalità` manner of speaking 44(35). 50(15). pinagsalitaàn was spoken to 76(3). sàlitáan conversation 32(7). 44(20). magsàlitáan converse 114(5). nagsàsàlitáan are conversing 86(32). pagsasàlitáan a conversing 28(11). 64(10). 88(3). kasàlitáan one of two who converse together 278(2). makapagsalità` be able to speak 50(14). -sálo: kasálo fellow-partaker 42(8). -salúbong: sinalúbong was met 18(40). 66(19). sálok dipper; basket 229(6). sumálok dip out water 229(6). -salúkoy: kasalukúyan present, at the same time 36(40). 260(11). salòp a dry measure; see kabàn. sáma (a) come along, go along 182(26). 222(5). sumáma go along 32(13). 66(30). went along 140(19). sàsáma will go along 84(12). pagsáma a going along 104(30). pagsasáma a going together 54(18). isáma be taken along 84(32). isináma was taken along 86(28). samáhan be gone with 253(14). sinamáhan was gone with 186(20). sàsamáhan will be gone with 68(34). sàmáhan society, company 296(32). sàmáha-ng-Sumúlong the Sumulong Co. 210(30). sàmáha-ng-ópera opera company 303(10). makisáma go along with 202(23). kasáma companion 30(9.22). 50(39). 273. magkakasáma group of three or more companions 28(25). 48(39). --(b) With accent-shift: samà act as partners 223(20). kasamà field-worker, peon 72(32). 86(22). kasamahàn partner 108(32). 210(35). See Sumúlong. magkakasamahàn group of three or more 207(41). 278(40). samà` badness, injury 218(31). kasamaàn badness, injuriousness 276 (37). kasamaà-ng-pálad bad fortune 42(28). masamà` bad, hurtful, ugly 40(14). 50(7). 58(39). sambalílo (S.) hat 137(42). sampàl a slap 24(23). sinampàl was slapped 24(22). sampày that hung across 251(33). nagsampày hung across, tr. 232(31). isinampày was hung across 248(38). sampáyan clothes-line 223(33). Sam-Pédro S. St. Peter 72(27). sána in that case, then 34(17). 74(23). 47. 230. San-Antóniyo S. place-n. 34(29). See táo. sánay practice 46(16). sanày practised 46(24). pasasánay a drilling 116(29). pagkasánay a past practising 46(23). San-Visènte S. place-n. 220(40). sandalì` moment, while, short space of time 18(6). 24(11). sandáliyas S. sandals 278(35). sandòk cooking-dipper of cocoanut-shell 74(5). sumandòk dipped out 229(8). sanhì` cause 190(16). -sánib: sumánib make one's sleeping-mat overlap 229(8). isánib be made to overlap 248(7). kasánib overlapping 266(18). magkasánib two that overlap 269(38). San-Ildepònso S. place-n. 100(10). See lúpa`. San-Matéyo S. place-n., see báyan. San-Migèl S. place-n. 50(9). 116(6). See báyan. sànto S. saint 98(15). 104(15). Sàntos S. family-n. 209(26). santòl fruit and tree of Sandoricum Indicum L. 34(40). sangà bough 34(28). 118(28). -sanggà: sumásanggà is warding off 106(36). sinásanggà is being warded off 106(35). Sang-Huwàn S. St. John 104(6). 110(10). sangkálan chopping-block 256(1). sangkàp accompaniment 221(22). kasangkàp id. 266(20). kasangkápan utensil, tool, appurtenances 58(2.33). 74(6). -sangl, see sála. sanlà` pledge 252(22). sangláan place for pledges, see báhay. sápa` pond 88(26). sapagkàt because 20(17). 201(36). 306. -sapantáha`: sinapantáha` was conjectured 38(25). sapàt sufficient 305(19). sapátos S. shoes 32(35). -sápit: sumápit arrived, came 62(24). -sarà: pangsarà instrument for closing 225(19). sumásarà closes, intr. 225(20). pagsasarà a closing, tr. 26(36). isinarà was closed 80(1). pagkásarà a chance closing 80(17). -saràp: masasaràp tasty, pl. 34 (39). sári` sárì-sári` various 48(15). 74(31). saríle self; own 48(33). 62(12). 72(13). 137. 169. 175. saríwa` moist; fresh 184(9). nanaríwa` got fresh 76(40). satsàt tonsure 106(21). sawì` awkward 219(15). 276(33). sawì-ng-pálad unlucky 211(8). nasawì-ng-pálad became unlucky 54(3). kasawiàn awkwardness 276(37). kasawià-ng-pálad bad fortune 94(37). sáya S. dress, skirt 240(41). -sayà: kasàyáhan gladness 275(27). masayà gay 80(15). 92(28). -sáyad: magsisáyad get wearied, pl. 118(20). sáyang that regretted 219(16). nanghináyang grieved 292(14). nanghìhináyang is mourning 241(24). panghihináyang a mourning 241(26). panghinayángan be regretted 257(6). panghìhinayángan will be regretted 191(31). pinanghinayángan was regretted 257(12). pinanghìhinayángan is being regretted 257(13). nasáyang went for naught 285(5). -sayàw: sumayàw dance 110(32). danced 186(18). sumásayàw is dancing 112(2). pagsayàw a dancing 112(4). nagsásayàw is performing a dance 110(38). sayawàn be danced before 253(15). sinayawàn was danced to 186(21). sàyáwan dance by many; ball 112(5). 186(19). 258(4). si siy particle of names 20(2). 45. 58. 62. 78. 126. 162. 196. ni disj., of, by 45. 162. kay loc., to, for 45. 196. Sibòl place-n. 118(26). sibúyas S. onions 76(17). sigà` bonfire 66(16). -sigàng: isigàng be put on the fire 248(39). nakasigàng is cooking 281(6). sigaríliyo S. cigarette 227(1). sigàw that cried 221(23). sumigàw yelled 24(21). sísigàw will yell 24(19). pagsigàw a shouting 42(41). nagsisigàw kept shouting 16(31). 44(40). nagsísisigàw screams continually 40(42). pagsisigàw a continual shouting 16(26). 44(26). isinigàw was cried out 24(13). 68(39). sinigawàn was yelled at 253(16). sìgáwan a shouting by many 258(5). magsìsìgáwan will yell together 236(18). pagsisìgáwan a yelling together 48(37). nakasísigàw is able to cry out 84(25). pasigàw in a shout 70(24). nápasigàw involuntarily gave a shout 88(27). -sigl, see silìd. -siglà: masiglà cheerful 276(35). magpasiglà cause to be cheerful 112(11). sigúro S. no doubt 18(24). 80(39). siìt spines at base of bamboo-cluster 246(27). -síkad: sumíkad kicked at 229(9). nagsísikàd kicks repeatedly 238(3). nagsísisikàd is kicking much and repeatedly 239(11). sinikáran was kicked at 253(17). síkat ray of light 66(22). sumìsíkat is shining 78(4). -sikìp: sumikìp became narrow 229(10). nagsikìp grew crowded 234(27). masikìp crowded 98(39). sekréta S. spy 168(5). -siksìk: sumiksìk crowded his way 229(13). nagsísiksìk is stuffing 234(29). nakìkipagsiksíkan takes part in the crowding 98(41). síko elbow 48(19). síko, see tsíko. -síkot: pasíkot-síkot nooks and corners 300(33). silà they 18(27). 63. nilà disj., by them, of them 16(7). 163. kanilà prep. and loc., their, by them, them 18(26). 165. 169. kaní-kanilà prep. and loc., their various, their respective 26(37). 165. 169. silà, see sinà. silakbò a flare, leap 231(6). 254(26). sumilakbò flared up 229(14). sinìsilakbuhàn is being welled up in 22(15). -sílang: sìlángan place of rising 259(41). silangàn place of child-birth 260(26). sìlangánan east 163(27). silángan east; place-n. 163(27). 261(13). -silbè (S.): magsilbè serve 40(7). pinagsìsilbihàn is being waited on 64(12). síle S. chile pepper 76(16). silìd small room 84(39). 114(13). sumilìd get into a small space 104(34). isilìd be put in 248(40). siglàn be filled 138(5). siniglàn was filled 20(17.34). sinìsiglàn is being filled 20(6). pinagsisiglàn was variously filled 118(7). 256(20). pagkásilìd a chance putting away 104(37). -sílip: sinílip was peeped at 106(20). síliya S. chair 234(12). sílong ground-floor, space under platform of house 260(29). -simbà: magsimbà go to church 78(37). nagsimbà went to church 242(18). nagsísimbà goes to church 56(13). simbáhan church 20(15). mapagsimbà devout 98(10). sinà silà pl. particle of names 48. 60. 62. 162. 196. ninà nilà disj., of, by 48. 162. kinà loc., to, for 48. 196. sínag ray 66(36). síne S. cinematograph 204(22). sinélas S. sandals 70(1). séniyas S. signals 246(22). -sintà: pagsintà a proffering love 229(16). sinísintà is being loved 245(5). sèntimos S. centimos, cents 222(37). síno who? 97. 167. síno-síno pl. 97. 131. níno disj., of whom? by whom? 167. 168. kaníno prep. and loc., whose? by whom? 168. 169. kaní-kaníno pl. 168. 169. sinungáling mendacious 219(17). nagsísinungalìng tells lies 238(5). kasinungalíngan falsehood 276(38). -singìl: paniningìl a dunning 313(1). singilìn be dunned for 264(14). sinísingìl is being claimed 54(23). násingìl got collected 294(7). singkamàs (S.) Pachyrizus angulatus Rich. 76(16). -singkàw: nagpasingkàw caused to be hitched up 52(35). singsìng ring 102(2). palàsingsíngan the ring finger 315(25). sípa` that kicked away; football 46(32). pagsípa` a kicking 48(15). màninípa` football-player 48(24). sipáin be kicked away 84(9). sinípa` was kicked away 24(45). 84(3). pinagsipà` was variously kicked 84(43). pinagsisipà` was variously and repeatedly kicked 84(21). sipéro football-player 316(11). sipéros pl. 48(24). -sípag: kasipágan diligence 276(38). masípag diligent 64(14). masisípag pl. 34(35). -síra` (a) nagkasíra` got partly spoiled 268(37). nakasìsíra` causes ruin 235(27). masíra` be able to be destroyed 283(40). nasíra` was destroyed; deceased 78(5). 285(7). nasìsiráan gets damaged 301(24). màsíra` get destroyed 293(26). nàsìsíra` gets destroyed 191(32). --(b) Accent shifted: sirà` destroyed 223(3). kasirà` opponent in anger 266(42). magkasirà` break with each other 24(28). nagkasirà` had a falling out 269(20). nagsipagkasirà` pl. 269(28). kasiraàn ruin 94(12). kasiraà-ng-púri injury to honor 94(16). serbísiyo S. service 62(35). sèrmon S. sermon 20(16). isinèsèrmon is being preached about 50(16). sinèsèrmunan is being preached to 50(13). -sísi: magsísi repent 20(31). magsipagsísi pl. 22(2). pagsisísi a repenting 22(25). pinagsisíhan was repented 291(9). -sísid: sumísid stay under water 168(41). pagsísid a staying under water 309(10). nàsìsísid is submerged 88(35). pagpapasísid a causing to dive 116(38). sítaw the cow-pea, Vigna catjang Endl. 76(16). siyà he, she; that which 47. 63. 106. niyà disj., by him, of him, 47. 163. kaniyà prep. and loc., his, by him, him 165. 169. kásiyà sufficient 268(8). magkàkàsiyà will be sufficient 271(4). pagkàsiyahàn be a sufficient container 52(13). makasísiyà will be adequate 281(7). nasiyahàn got what corresponded to it 66(21). nasìsiyahàn gets what corresponds to it 112(26). -siyádo (S. demasiado) :masiyádo excessive 54(19). 289(17). siyàm nine 38(6). 67. pangsiyàm number nine 225(38). makásiyàm nine times 298(33). siyásat that inquired into 203(5). nagsiyásat inquired 28(2). 203(2). pagsisiyásat an inquiring 66(21). maniyásat pry into 240(33). siniyásat was interrogated 64(34). nasiyásat has been inquiring into 199(32). mapagsiyásat inquisitive 40(20). siyèmpre S. always 262(13). siyéte-palábras S. Easter Mass 20(29). subálit but 322. -subò: sumubò boiled over, intr. 52(12). sinubhàn was boiled over in 54(30). súbo` mouthful 221(24). pagsusúbo` a feeding 219(15). subúan be fed 253(19). -súbok: nanùnúbok is spying 40(24). subúkan be watched for, put to a test 68(8). 102(34). sinubúkan was put to a test 56(39). sinùsubúkan is being spied on 40(22). masubúkan be able to be tested 265(20). -sugàl (S.): nagsúsugàl is gambling 269(22). nagsipagsugàl gambled, pl. 190(34). pagsusugàl a gambling 251(29). sùgálan gambling-party 174(29). súgat a wound 20(8). sumúgat wounded 20(38). sinugátan was wounded 253(20). sugatàn wounded person, the wounded 20(39). 260(28). nagsugatàn wounded each other 237(3). masugátan be able to be wounded 36(21). súha` grape-fruit 34(40). See púno`. súhol a bribe 72(39). súka` wine set to sour, vinegar 289(2). súkat proper, fitting 58(18). 98(24). 268. suklày comb 229(19). sumuklày combed 229(18). nagsuklày combed himself 234(30). sinuklày was combed 245(7). sinuklayàn id. 253(21). nagpasuklày caused himself to be combed 303(22). pinapagsuklày was caused to comb himself 305(26). súlat that written, letter 52(10). sulàt written 199(30). sumúlat write 140(18). wrote 50(39). sùsúlat will write 138(11). sumùsúlat is writing 146(5). pagsúlat a writing 140(29). pagsusulàt a writing in quantity 238(5). panunúlat id. 240(35). magsusulàt clerk, scribe 243(2). mánunulàt id. 243(20). sinúlat was written 154(8). 245(9). isinúlat was put into writing 94(22). 184(35). sulátan be written to 154(19). sulatàn writing-desk 217(13). kasùlátan kasulatàn correspondent 278(12. 24). makasúlat be able to write 282(2). nakasùsúlat is able to write 282(1). nakàsúlat happened to write 176(38). tagasúlat writer 315(39). tagapagpasúlat overseer of writers 316(5). -súlid: sumúlid spin thread 229(19). sinúlid thread 184(4). sulihiyà the weave 48(1). suléras S. joists 234(43). -sulsè (S.): manulsè darn 169(2). tagasulsè darning-woman 169(1). sulò` torch 90(26). súlok corner 52(33). 64(22). sulòk-sulòk nooks and corners 64(21). súlong go ahead 151(39). sumúlong push ahead 229(19). also as family-n. (Sumúlong at kasamahàn: see bìgásan). pagsúlong a pushing on; a going away 88(41). 308(36). isùsúlong will be pushed forward 58(3). isinùsúlong is being pushed ahead 230(3). súman steamed rice in banana-leaves 227(1). sombréro S. hat 137(41). sumbòng complaint 96(12). nagsumbòng brought a charge 100(21). ipagsumbòng be complained of 96(35). ipinagsumbòng was complained of 38(1). 96(10). palasumbúngin tattle-tale 315(10). -sumpòng: pagsumpòng attack, fit 313(22). sinumpòng was overcome 18(36). 84(14). sinúsumpòng is being overcome 108(27). sundálo S. soldier 52(23). nagsundálo became a soldier 183(2). pagsusundálo military service 303(34). -sundò`: sumundò` fetch 229(21). pagsundò` a fetching 229(22). sinundò` was called for 256(41). sinúsundò` is being called for 104(23). kásundò` agreeing 268(9). nagkásundò` agreed with each other 168(16). pagkakásundò` an agreeing with each other 271(5). pagkàsunduàn pagkàsunduwàn be agreed upon 278(30). pinagkàsunduàn was agreed upon 32(2). nagpasundò` caused to be fetched 92(23). pagpapasundò` a causing to be fetched 303(23). ipinasundò` was caused to be fetched 306(28). ipinasúsundò` is being caused to be fetched 88(19). 92(16). suntòk blow on the head 229(24). pagsuntòk a striking on the head 229(23). suntukìn be struck on the head 245(10). sinuntòk was struck on the head 245(10). sinúsuntòk is being struck on the head 245(11). -súno`: nakisúno` dwelt along, dwelt with 264(15). kasúno` fellow-guest 118(15). magkakasúno` pl. 118(18). -sunòd: sunòd-sunòd following on one another 72(25). sumunòd follow, comply, obey 52(24). 100(27). followed 231(6). sumúsunòd is following 38(7). 46(19). pagsunòd a following 38(10). 94(24). sundìn be complied with 92(8). sinunòd was complied with 303(16). sinúsunòd is being complied with 62(37). 66(13). isinunòd was taken next, was made to follow 76(18). sundàn be followed 240(23). sinundàn was followed 22(25). 36(36). sinùsundàn is being followed 68(23). kasunòd following another 266(21). magkasunòd two, one of whom follows the other 42(29). 270(8). pagkakásunòd-sunòd a following one on the other 271(6). masùnúrin obedient 94(20). súnog a burning up, conflagration 122(18). 156(10). sunòg burnt 66(41). 223(4). panunúnog a setting fire to, a burning 122(12). sunúgin be burned up 122(20). pinagsunòg was variously burned up 122(10). magkasúnog have a fire 268(41). nasúnog has been burned 172(39). 259(4). pagkasúnog a past burning 197(34). 283(2). pagkàsúnog a getting burned 292(19). 295(19). súnong that carried on the head 108(16). sungánga` a blow on the mouth 212(37). sùsungangáin will be struck on the mouth 174(37). súngay horn 24(29). -sunggàb: sinunggabàn was seized 46(27). 58(22). sinùsunggabàn is being seized 108(34). masunggabàn have been taken hold of 110(2). nasùsunggabàn is able to be seized 110(8). súpot bag 34(5). sorbétes S. sherbet 272(33). súso breast, nipple 212(11). ipinakìkipasúso is being asked to be caused to take the breast 307(38). susò` snail 18(1). sutsòt a whistling 197(22). sumúsutsòt is whistling 229(24). malasutsòt a young lout 315(3). palasutsútin one who always whistles 315(11). soòt that worn 70(1). isoòt be put on 248(41). sootàn be got into 104(11). -suwày: pagsuwày a disobeying 54(3). makasuwày be able to disobey 94(21). suwélas S. soles 306(8). suwèldo S. pay 26(27). -súyo`: pagsúyo` a bribing 92(38). panunúyo` a propitiating by bribes 72(34). súyod a harrow 243(3). magsuyòd harrower. T. t, see at. taàn that set apart 221(3). itinátaàn is being reserved 248(24). taanàn fugitive 261(14). magtaanàn flee 237(4). makataanàn be able to flee 286(24). 313(29). nàtàtaàn is reserved 80(13). taàs height 218(13). itaàs upper part, north 36(27). 163(25). paitaàs upward 48(6). itinaàs was raised 88(34). kataasàn north 163(25). mataàs high 64(12). nátaàs got raised up 78(8). -tabà`: tumabà` grow stout 206(27). katabà` how fat 42(5). matabà` fat, stout 244(34). nápakatabà` very fat 313(12). tabakéra S. tabatière 220(25). tabáko S. cigar 66(12). nagtàtabáko is smoking a cigar 66(19). tabì side; step aside 32(31). 152(1). nátabì got to the side of 74(14). pagkátabì a getting to the side of 94(8). tablà S. board 34(37). tábo` dipper 222(27). tábon dam 245(14). nagtábon dammed up 232(32). pagtatábon a damming up 179(39). tinabúnan was dammed up 253(22). nàtàtábon is covering, is piled over 120(22). pinatabúnan was caused to be filled 26(10). taburéte S. chair 24(39). tadtàd chopped up 20(7). pagtatadtàd a chopping up 114(10). and Corrigenda. tagà tigà coming from 56(23). 48. 254. -tagà`: tumagà` hew, chop 290(27). tinagà` was chopped 44(39). tagàl length in time, endurance 168(41). tagalàn be done long 253(23). matagàl long-enduring, patient 104(26). natagalàn was able to be endured in 62(6). pàtagálan contest of endurance 309(10). pagpapàtagálan a contesting for endurance 48(22). 309(17). kapàtagálan opponent in a contest for endurance 310(32). Tagálog Tagalog 50(15). 58(6). Katagalúgan the Tagalog country 50(23). tagílid, see -gílid. tagpì` a patch 266(4). tagpiàn be mended 253(26). tagpían place of patching 259(7). katátagpì` there has just been mending 175(9). tagpò` a meeting 220(3). magtatagpò` meet each other, pl. 102(4). nagtatagpò` met each other 26(39). tagpuìn be met by appointment 245(12). tagpuàn be joined up 253(26). pagtàtagpuàn will be met in 26(34). tagpúan meeting-place 106(9). makíkipagtagpò` will meet another 98(26). makátagpò` happen to meet 66(5). 92(14). nakátagpò` happened to meet 18(2). 36(8). màtagpuàn get met with 106(25). nàtagpuàn got met with 34(20). 92(15). tágo` that put away 221(25). magtágo` hide oneself 32(35). magtagò` keep oneself in hiding 56(19). nagtagò` kept himself in hiding 56(21). pagtatagò` a staying in hiding 312(13). itágo` be hidden 40(25). itinàtágo` is being put away 273(34). taguàn place for safe-keeping; hiding-place; hiding 52(35). 120(10). 163(22). kinàtàtagúan is the place of concealment 118(43). makapagtágo` be able to hide oneself 52(32). nàtàtágo` is hidden 24(31). 34(11). pagkàtágo` the way of storing 268(39). patágo` given for safe-keeping 293(26). -tahàn: magtahàn cease 232(33). nagtahàn ceased 106(7). tàhánan abode 66(24). patahanin be caused to cease 100(2). -tahì`: manahì` sew, patch 169(2). pananahì` sewing as occupation 240(36). mànanáhi` seamstress 243(14). pinanànahiàn is the place where sewing is done 256(42). tagatahì` person appointed to sew 315(39). tahìd spur of rooster 238(3). tahílan girder 227(15). tahímik quiet 102(4). 114(4). tumahímik become quiet, quiet down 44(17). became quiet 44(25). 122(23). nanahímik quieted down 240(37). nagsipanahímik pl. 36(5). katahimíkan quietness 116(9). matahímik quiet 34(35). 120(38). màtahímik get quiet 40(42). tahòl a bark 62(8). tumátahòl is barking 229(25). pagtahòl a barking 305(2). pagtatahòl a barking at 234(31). tàhúlan a baying together 258(7). nagtàhúlan bayed together 190(17). ikinátahòl was the cause of barking 273(38). nakatahòl has barked, was able to bark 191(2). 198(18). pagkátahòl a chance barking 158(8). pagpapatahòl a causing to bark 296(10). pinatahòl was caused to bark 304(41). taínga ténga ear 110(35). -takà: pagtatakà a being surprised 64(16). 232(34). ipinagtátakà is the cause of surprise 66(4). katakà-takà exciting wonder 36(26). nakapagtátakà causes wonderment 36(24). takbò a run 70(40). tumakbò run 18(18). ran 18(39). tumátakbò is running 251(39). tátakbò will run 18(35). pagtakbò a running 18(9). pagtakbò-takbò a running about at intervals 231(22). nagtátakbò runs (as repeated occurrence) 108(16). nagsipagtakbò ran, pl. 84(29). nangagsipagtakbò id. 116(13). pagtatakbò a running 88(25). nagtátatakbò is running wild 62(13). 238(42). takbúhan a running together 60(27). 116(5). nagtakbúhan ran together 22(26). nagsipagtakbúhan pl. 96(30). nagtàtakbúhan are running together 86(40). 106(34). pagtatakbúhan a running together 18(1). 96(17). makipagtakbúhan join in a race with 18(21). nakìkipagtakbúhan joins in a race 60(26). pinakìkipagtakbuhàn is being run with 60(29). 265(33). makatakbò be able to run 18(16). patakbò on the run 68(18). 72(8). pinatakbò was caused to run 70(39). takìp cover 172(15). pangtakìp used as cover 94(15). tákot fear 20(6). takútin be frightened 50(33). nagtàtakòt-takútan pretends to be frightened 108(15). katákot-tákot terrifying 267(27). ikinatákot was the cause of fearing 272(23). katakútan be feared 36(9). kinatakútan was feared 274(30). kinatàtakútan is being feared 42(18). pagkatakutàn be feared by many 275(19). pagkàkatakutàn will be feared by many 275(21). pinagkatakutàn was feared by many 275(15). pinagkàkatakutàn is being feared by many 36(30). katakútan timidity 116(14). katakutàn reverence 276(11). katatakutàn terrifying 34(32). 277(30). nakatàtákot is causing fear 66(12). matákot be afraid 20(13). natákot grew afraid 58(23). nangatákot pl. 36(6). natàtákot is afraid 36(7). pagkatákot a being afraid 72(9). palatakutìn easily frightened. tála` star 272(25). -talà`: nátalà` got fixed 116(24). talagà by fate, by nature, once for all 98(33). 116(16). tinalagà was resolved upon 46(23). katalagahàn fate 276(40). -tálas: matálas keen, clever 234(9). -talastàs: natátalastàs is able to be understood 284(2). napagtalastàs was entirely understood 287(14). napagtátalastàs napápagtalastàs is entirely understood 287(15). -táli`: panáli` used for tethering, tying up 225(21). nagtáli` tethered 232(35). itináli` was tethered 313(25). tinalían was tied up 104(37). nakatáli` is tied 284(16). -tálik: tumálik became close 88(2). matálik intimate 22(30). 52(17). -talíkod, see likòd. talìm cutting-edge 221(36). patalìm cutting instrument 36(19). nagpatalìm caused to be sharp, sharpened 44(36). nagpápatalìm is sharpening 303(25). pinatalìm was made sharp 304(42). napatátalìm is able to be made sharp. 311(24). talíno (S.?) intelligence 60(16). katalinúhan id. 50(6). matalíno intelligent 36(28). -tálo (a): nagtàtálo is contending 46(34). pagtatálo a contending 296(31). manálo be victorious 52(8). nanálo won 48(36). nanànálo is victorious 62(2). nagsìsipanálo pl. 118(5). pananálo victory 56(30). mánanalò victorious, victor 48(38). 62(1). talúnin be defeated 46(37). tàtalúnin will be defeated 18(24). talúnan defeated, loser 18(42). 148(22). 163(7). pinanalúnan was won 60(33). katàlúnan one of two who are opposing each other 278(12). pinagkatalunàn was won in by many 60(27). 275(23). pagkatálo a being defeated 52(7). màkatálo turn out to be the opponent 168(28). màkàkatálo will be an opponent 30(2). nàkatálo was the opponent 296(29). nàkàkatálo is the opponent 296(31). --(b) Accent shifted: katalò opponent in winning-and-losing game 266(43). nagkatalò played a game 269(21). pagkakatalò a winning-and-losing 48(21). talumpáti` oration 98(38). nagtàtalumpáti` is making a speech 98(41). pagtatalumpáti` a speech-making 236(39). -talòn: tumalòn jumped down 88(29). nagtalòn jumped down 28(21). 70(30). 72(13). talòng egg-plant 76(16). -talungkò`: nakatalungkò` has squatted down 98(19). 112(1). nangàtàtalungkò` are in squatting position 108(29). patalungkò` in squatting position 220(9). táma` (a) a hit, correct 152(7). 220(5). tumáma` hit 24(23). 229(26). tamáan be hit and destroyed or disfigured 238(39). màtamáan get hit and disfigured 298(5). --(b) Accent shifted: tamà` hit 223(5). tamaàn be hit in some part 106(38). tinamaàn was hit 24(25). 38(21). màtamaàn get hit in some part 36(21). 298(11). -tamàd: katamaràn be neglected 274(36). katàtamaràn will be neglected 274(39). kinatamaràn was neglected 274(34). katàmáran laziness 18(36). matamàd lazy 260(15). tamìs sweetness 297(10). matamìs sweet, sugar 198(31). 252(6). -tamn, see tanìm. -tampalásan: tinampalásan was roughly handled 94(14). katampalasánan roughness 310(9). -tampò: pagtatampúhan mutual contrariness 259(28). -tamò: magtamò partake 78(39). nagtátamò is partaking 112(20). -tanàw: tumanàw take into view 90(39). tanawìn be observed 108(21). pagkatanàw a having looked 283(4). nakátanàw chanced to espy 28(13). 72(5). pagkátanàw a chance espying, the way of seeing 18(34). 108(16). 291(19). -tandà`: tumátandà` is getting old 229(27). matandà` old 38(6). matatandà` pl. 114(31). matandaàn be able to be remembered 24(5). natàtandaàn is able to be remembered 20(25). 28(5). 116(19). tanikalà` chain 244(38). tanìm that planted 221(26). pananìm used for planting 86(32). nagtátanìm is planting 86(38). pagtatanìm a planting 307(13). mànanánim planter 243(15). itátanìm will be planted 16(6). tamnàn be planted in 253(28). nàtàtanìm is planted 76(31). nàtàtamnàn is planted in 34(39). taniyàg much regarded 219(18). pagtataniyàg an exhibiting 90(16). tanyágan exhibition 259(9). pagtatanyágan the making an exhibition 90(9). tansò` copper 230(14). tantiyà S. calculation, guess 281(41). tánod watchman tánod-báhay house-watchman 210(31). tánod-pálay rice-guard 210(31). tumánod guarded 229(27). nagtánod stood guard, formed a guard 207(41). tinanúran was guarded 253(30). tanòng that asked, question 56(5). 68(21). tumanòng asked (with quotation or thing asked about) 44(8). 82(13). 106(10). 229(29). nagtanòng put questions, asked (with indirect quotation) 82(3). 234(34). nagtátanòng is putting questions 234(33). tinanòng was inquired of 26(1). itinanòng was asked 26(3). 30(30). ipagtanòng be asked about 74(26). ipagtatanòng be repeatedly asked about 98(23). -tánga`: tinangáan was threatened 100(13). tángan grasp; that grasped 66(38). 108(41). tinangnàn was grasped 42(39). tangày that carried along 70(3). nagtátangày is carrying along 68(28). tinangày was carried along, washed away 82(34). tinátangày is being borne along 16(3). tanggàp that received 221(27). tumanggàp received 76(25). tanggapìn be accepted 48(25). 245(16). tàtanggapìn will be accepted 52(25). tinanggàp was received, accepted 58(9). 219(29). tanggapàn be taken from 253(31). tanggápan receiving-place 252(21). nátanggàp chanced to be accepted 42(28). -tanggòl: pagtatanggòl a defending 257(14). mánananggòl attorney 116(25). maipagtanggòl be able to be defended 288(1). tagapagtanggòl attorney 305(40). -tanghà`: tumanghà` wonder 229(30). tangháli` noon 30(29). manangháli` eat the noon meal 204(26). katanghalían middle part of day 26(14). 120(38). -tángi`: itinángi` was refused 60(29). -tanglàw: pagtanglàw an illuminating 66(36). -tangò`: tumangò` consented 16(6). tumátangò` consents 229(31). tápang courage 36(31). katapángan bravery 276(41). matápang courageous 42(19). 66(2). tapàt space in front 189(1). ipinagtapàt was owned up 90(32). katapàt facing 48(7). tapìk a tap 220(7). pinagtátapìk is being petted 84(10). -tápon: itápon be cast away 30(36). 62(23). itinápon was cast away 62(30). ipinagtapòn was variously cast away 120(40). tapunàn place for throwing away 205(21). nagpatápon caused to be exiled 56(27). ipatápon be caused to be cast out 56(17). pagkapatápon a having caused to be banished 120(18). tapòn S. stopper, cork 166(17). tapunàn be corked 253(34). -tápos: tapòs ended 30(19). tapúsin be ended 236(18). tinápos was ended 56(6). katapusàn end, cessation 24(1). 50(18). 114(33). makatápos have finished 88(3). 167(26). matápos come to an end 50(37). 82(3). natápos ended 236(37). pagkatápos a having ended 44(37). 52(4). matápos-tápos be able to come to an end 287(39). tarà come along 207(35). tarabúko, see búko. -tarangkà: tàrangkáhan gateway 32(17). -taráto S.: pagtaráto a treating 44(31). tasà (S.) point 254(2). tátal splinters 58(17). tátay father 120(17). 122(17). 59. magtátay father and child 242(16). magtatátay pl. 242(33). tatlò, see -tlò. táo person, human being 20(7). táo-ng-báyan townsperson 50(17). táo-ng-San-Antóniyo person of San Antonio 34(31). panaúhin guest 247(29). 250(39). táo-taúhan manikin; pupil of the eye 88(8). 135(22). katáo persons 42(6). 255. kataúhan mankind 135(21). katawàn body 20(33). 276(19). pangangatawàn physique, body 18(14). 36(11). -taòb: pagtataòb a tipping over, tr. 82(32). taòn year 26(36). taòn-taòn every year 191(32). kátaòn at the same time 104(18). nagkátaòn happened at the same time 84(37). 94(6). pagkakátaòn a happening at the same time 271(6). nàtàtaòn comes at the same time 110(22). táwa (a) laughter 68(27). t. nang t. keeps laughing 206(35). tumáwa laughed 18(23). tumàtáwa is laughing 229(31). pagtáwa a laughing 100(37). tumàtáwa-táwa laughs at intervals 231(23). tawánan be laughed at 186(34). tàwánan laughter by many 259(37). katatawanàn laughable, laughing-stock 24(17). 167(30). --(b) Accent shifted: tumátawà-tawà snickers, giggles at intervals 231(28). nanawà-nawà kept snickering 241(33). ikátawà be the cause of laughter 185(23). ikàtàtawà will be the cause of snickering 274(2). ikinátawà was the cause of laughter 292(31). ikinàtàtawà is the cause of snickering 274(4). nakàtàtawà causes irrepressible laughter 108(28). matatawanìn easily made to laugh 290(3). patawàtawà snickering at intervals 300(38). nápatawà burst out laughing 120(28). -táwad: patàtawárin will be pardoned, excused 184(19). táwag a call; name 50(10). 64(18). pangtáwag panáwag used for calling 225(22). tumáwag call 18(27). called 32(39). tumàtáwag is calling 64(5). pagtáwag a calling 64(42). nagtáwag announced 234(36). pagtatáwag an announcing 234(37). nagtawàg called in numbers 238(7). nagtátawàg is calling in numbers 238(7). pagtatawàg a calling in numbers 238(11). nagtátatawàg is calling much and variously 239(12). magtatawàg town-crier 303(30). manáwag summon 240(38). tawágin be called 78(1). tináwag was called 16(5). tinàtáwag is being called 40(32). itináwag was called out, was called for 42(31). 44(28). 248(42). ipinagtáwag was called out 249(39). tawágan be called to 253(36). pagkatáwag a having called 283(6). màtáwag get called 46(21). nàtáwag got called 303(34). pagkàtáwag a chance calling 291(39). patáwag caused to be called out 299(19). nagpatáwag caused to be called 303(26). pagpapatáwag a causing to be called 303(27). magpapatawàg town-crier 248(42). ipinatáwag was caused to be called 52(13). 54(25). ipinagpàpatáwag is being caused to be called out 307(24). -tawìd: tumawìd cross 106(4). crossed 68(2). napatátawìd is causing himself to be taken across 80(35). tayà` stakes 258(8). tàyáan a staking by several 258(8). táyo we, incl. 63. Cf. átin and té. tayò` stand up 222(7). erected 223(35). pangtayò` used for setting up, for standing up 225(24). 306(9). tumayò` stood up 204(27). pagtayò` a standing up 289(21). magtayò` set up, erect 203(2). nagtayò` erected 234(40). pagtatayò` an erecting 234(22). itátayò` will be set up 296(2). itinayò` was erected 248(43). tinayuàn was built in 253(36). pagkakátayò` a standing up together 98(39). 271(7). kinàtàtayuàn is being stood on 98(40). nakatayò` is upright 110(41). nakatátayò` is able to stand up 282(3). pagkatayò` a having stood up 283(8). nàtàtayò` is standing 34(38). 50(26). pagkátayò` a chance standing up or erecting 104(19). 291(21). patayò` caused to be erected 299(20). in standing position 287(26). nagpatayò` caused to be erected 303(32). pagpapatayò` a causing to be built 303(33). pinatayò` was caused to stand up 304(43). ipinatayò` was caused to be erected 306(30). nápatayò` jumped to his feet 312(31). -táyog: katáyog what tallness 267(35). té (táyo?) come along 207(35). teátro, see teyátro. -tibà`: tumibà` cut down bananas 229(34). tinibàn trunk of banana-tree after fruit has been gathered 184(2). -tíbay: tumíbay grew firm 24(27). tibáyan be propped 296(2). matíbay firm 18(20). 64(36). tigà, see tagà. tigàs hardness, hard 219(20). 281(26). tigasàn be done with hardening 253(38). matigàs hard 283(27). pinatigasàn was made hard 237(31). -tígil: nagtígil ceased 201(37). -tiìs: tinítiìs is being endured 223(18). tìísin hardship 62(21). tiktìk spy 312(14). tumiktìk spied 36(31). tikuwàs lowered at one end 223(35). pagtikuwàs a getting out of balance 192(22). nagtikuwàs tilted 234(42). -tilàd: tumilàd split, cut up 229(35). tinilàd was split 46(40). napatilàd asked to be sliced for 311(43). teléfono S. telephone 291(40). timbà` well-bucket 314(34). tumimbà` drew in a bucket 229(36). kalatimbà` squatting on heels 314(32). nagkalatimbà` squatted on heels 196(37). pinapagkalatimbà` was caused to squat on heels 305(29). -timbàng: timbángan scales 259(10). katimbàng equal 42(6) and Corrigenda. tinápay bread 32(17). tindà (S.) goods for sale 259(11). tindáhan store, shop 170(4). -tindìg: nagsitindìg stood on end, pl. 66(16). nagtindìg stood up 26(25). nagsipagtindìg pl. 96(29). nakatindìg is on his feet 38(33). 90(25). pagkátindìg a chance standing up 291(21). nápatindìg jumped to his feet 202(1). tinidòr S. table-fork 114(8). tinìg voice 86(25). 114(11). tinìk spine, splinter, fish-bone 16(20). 250(34). nátinìk got a splinter 16(21). pagkátinìk the getting a splinter 295(23). -tintéro: S.: tinterúhan ink-stand 180(33). tinóla stew 163(18). tingà foreign substance between the teeth 241(29). manghiningà pick one's teeth 241(29). -tingìn: tumingìn watch 18(26). pagtingìn an observing 229(37). tingnàn be looked at 64(26). tiningnàn was looked at 18(13). tinìtingnàn is being looked at 106(34). -tingkàd: matingkàd intense 147(1). tingtìng fibre, bristle, straw 315(21). -tipàn: pinagtipanàn was appointed as meeting-place 104(39). tìpánan a meeting by appointment 102(11). nagtìpánan made an appointment to meet each other 26(34). -tipìd: pagtipìd a being economical 229(37). nagtipìd saved 235(2). nagsipagtipìd pl. 236(6). pagtitipìd a saving 235(1). tinipìd was economized in 245(17). kaytipìd what savingness 174(1). natipìd has been economized in 284(18). matipìd economical 298(9). mapagtipìd given to saving 289(26). pagkátipìd a chance saving 292(25). nagpatipìd caused to be economized 303(36). ipatipìd be caused to be economized in 244(20). ipinatipìd was caused to be economized 306(31). -típon: tipòn gathered 223(6). pangtípon used for gathering 225(26). pagtípon a gathering 229(39). magtípon store up 235(5). nagtípon stored up 235(5). nagtìtípon stores up 202(19). pagtitípon a storing up 235(3). tìpúnan meeting 259(35) Corrigenda. katipúnan a gathering; n. of a secret society 116(27). Katipunéros members of the Katipunan 116(32). nakatípon succeeded in gathering 282(4). natípon has been gathered 284(19). pagkatípon ability to gather, a having gathered 282(16). 283(10). nakàtípon chanced to gather 291(33). pagkàtípon a chance gathering 291(23). patípon that caused to be gathered 299(21). patipòn into a heap 166(23). nagpatípon caused to be gathered 303(37). pagpapatípon a causing to be gathered 303(39). ipinatípon was caused to be gathered 306(32). típus S. typhoid 223(19). -tirà: tumirà dwelt, staid 229(41). magtirà dwelt 54(12). nagtirà dwelt 50(4). nagtítirà is dwelling, stays 38(8). 114(27). pagtitirà a staying 36(25). 54(13). nagtútumirà keeps staying 112(27). itinirà was left 249(1). tirahàn be dwelt in 253(40). tinìtirahàn is being dwelt in 253(42). tirhàn be left for 253(39). tinirhàn was dwelt in, was left for 118(3). 253(38). tìráhan dwelling 16(32). 24(38). titirhàn home, house 118(27). ikinápagtirà was the cause of dwelling 120(6). kinàtirhàn was lived in 120(42). makatirà be able to stay 52(39). mátirà remain, get left 192(38). màtìtirà will have to remain 187(26). nátirà got left, dwelt 28(31). 56(30). nàtìtirà is left, dwells 26(28). 28(33). pagkátirà a chance staying 116(25). -tísod: tinísod was kicked away 245(20). natísod has been kicked away 284(20). nakàtísod accidentally hit with the foot 290(35). -tiwála`: tiwalà` persuaded, convinced 104(40). paniwála` belief 40(3). maniwála` believe 68(29). naniwála` believed 106(19). nanìniwála` believes 40(7). 52(1). paniniwála` a believing, faith 34(32). 40(2). pàniwalaìn credulous 116(9). paniwaláan be given credence 52(6). kàtiwála` confidential agent, manager 268(13). tiyà S. aunt 59. 256. tiyàn womb 36(16). tiyának goblin 68(1). teyátro teátro S. theatre 148(27). tiyobíbo S. merry-go-round 307(21). -tlò: tatlò three 24(18). 67. tatlò ng gabì: pagtatatlò-ng-gabì a three-nights' celebration 114(28). tatlò ng pù`: pangatlò-ng-pù` number thirty 226(9). tatlò-tatlò three by three 224(1). pangatlò number three 226(8). ikatlò third 273(19). makáitlò makáyitlò three times 298(36). trabahadùr S. laborer 82(25). trabáho S. labor 30(26). trabáho-ng-kaniyunéro artilleryman's work 155(22). magtàtrabáho will work 138(30). nagtrabáho worked 90(14). pagtatrabáho a working 82(7). pinapagtàtrabáho is being caused to work 72(33). trabúko, see búko. trèn S. train 116(21). Tsàng C. n. 263(4). tsíko síko S. custard-apple, Achras sapota L. 34(40). Tsína S. China 269(20). tubà` sap 258(1). túbig water 16(31). túbo S. tube 255(20). tubò sugar-cane 181(15). tubúhan cane-field 237(41). 259(18). túbo` that grown; profit 189(24). 232(22). tumúbo` grew 16(12). tùtúbo` will grow 16(9). tinubúan was grown up in, was grown on 26(39). 204(10). katutúbo` inborn 38(13). 267(4). -tud, see -tuwìd. tugtòg that played, piece of music 186(21). tumugtòg play music 166(3). tumútugtòg is playing music 110(37). nagsísitugtòg pl. 110(32). mánunugtòg musician 112(3). tugtúgin music 247(22). tinùtugtugàn is being played for 48(30). tugtúgan piece of music by several performers 112(4). pagtutugtúgan a playing together 110(40). pagpapatugtòg a causing to be played 80(26). túhod knee 48(19). tukà` beak 230(2). tumukà` pick with the beak 230(2). pangpatukà` given to pick 301(8). tuksò joke 195(39). -tuktòk: tumuktòk knocked 78(26). tumútuktòk is knocking 155(37). pagtuktòk a knocking 78(27). itinuktòk was knocked 30(7). ituktòk top, ceiling 62(15). 118(21). -túkop: tinúkop was covered with the hand 100(2). tulà` connected 186(40). tulá-tulà` coherent 44(35). -túlad: tuláran be limited 74(23). túlak push 252(5). tumúlak pushed at; went away 230(3). 235(10). nagtúlak pushed 235(9). tulày bridge 163(12). -tulè: tutulè ear-wax 224(22). manghinulè clean the ears 241(30). -túlin: magtúlin go fast 167(35). nagtùtúlin is hurrying 68(16). tinulínan speed 310(19). matúlin swift 18(8). 60(31). nàtúlin got faster 294(29). pinatúlin was caused to hurry 72(4). túlis point 284(33). tulìs pointed 223(7). tulísan be sharpened 254(1). tulisàn bandit 120(1). matúlis pointed 271(12). túlog sleep 220(8). tumúlog slept in 64(38). tumùtúlog sleeps in 64(37). pagtúlog a sleeping 230(7). tinùtulúgan is being slept in 62(39). 190(12). tulugàn sleeping-place 260(32). makitúlog sleep along with 122(14). matúlog go to sleep 64(5). 84(18). natúlog went to sleep 18(36). 38(20). 84(39). natùtúlog is asleep 18(38). 38(28). 62(9). matutulugìn sleepy-head 290(4). nakàtúlog happened to sleep in 290(36). màkatúlog chance to fall asleep 296(41). mangàkatúlog pl. 297(3). mangàkàkatúlog will fall asleep pl. 192(14). nàkatúlog fell asleep 296(37). nangàkàkatúlog are asleep 296(43). pagkàkatúlog a falling asleep 62(22). màtulúgan get slept in 84(17). patúlog-túlog sleeping by fits and starts 300(36). nagpatúlog caused to sleep 62(8). patulúgin be caused to sleep 305(3). pinatúlog was caused to sleep 36(18). 84(38). mapatúlog be able to be caused to sleep 64(2). túlong help 32(39). tùtúlong will help 32(11). nagsìsitúlong are helping 114(2). tulúngan be assisted 234(19). pinagtùtulùng-tulúngan is being done by haphazard helping 106(29). pagtutulungàn a mutual assisting 237(4). ikatúlong be the means of helping 60(23). nakatúlong contributed 94(37). nakatùtúlong is contributing 112(11). napatùtúlong is asking to be helped 311(35). -túlos: pagtutúlos an offering up 50(29). nàtùtúlos is set up 66(41). nagpatúlos caused to be set up 72(29). nàipatúlos was caused to be set up 80(26). -túloy (a): itinúloy was gone on with 287(11). tinulúyan was staid with 116(35). tùlúyan place of lodging; see báhay. nakitúloy asked to stay with 148(31). patúloy caused to go on; going on 60(3). 70(34). pinatúloy was caused to stay on 84(38). ipatúloy be caused to go on, be continued 88(43). ipinatúloy was continued 20(41). 66(18). 84(3). ipinatùtúloy is being continued 108(20). --(b) With accent-shift: tulòy further 28(12). 34(8). 47. 231. nátulòy chanced to continue, got continued 207(31). 237(5). 240(18). papagtùtuluyìn will be caused to go on 88(14). ipinatulòy was caused to be gone on with 96(31). 307(6). ipinapatulòy was caused to be caused to be gone on with 307(12). tumpàk correct 219(20). màtumpakàn get ascertained 70(32). túnay true 66(7). 82(31). katunáyan truth, truly 30(15). 82(5). 265(6). pinatunáyan was caused to be realized 308(29). -tuntòn: tùtuntunìn will be followed 34(14). tinuntòn was followed 34(21). palatuntúnin querulant 315(11). palàtuntúnan set of rules 315(26). tóno S. tone 207(4). tungkòl about, concerning 30(16). 52(25). 287. 288. tungkúlin concern, duty 96(40). katungkúlan duty, office 52(41). 110(32). tungtòng a stand 221(31). tútuntóng will set foot on 70(26). 100(29). tinùtuntungàn is being stood on 100(25). makátuntòng-tuntòng ever set foot on 100(8). mátuntòng happen to stand on 68(4). -túngo: tumúngo went toward 230(8). nagsitúngo pl. 282(30). katúngo person dealt with 266(25). kàtùtungúhan will turn out to be the place gone toward 279(20). nàkàkatúngo is being dealt with 68(14). patúngo towards 18(40). 20(3). 48(6). 285. pagpatúngo a going towards 120(7). 302(21). patùtungúhan will be headed for 90(43). 307(4). pinatùtungúhan is being headed for 72(6). 308(30). kapàpatungúhan will be the place headed for 26(33). 310(28). napatúngo went toward 102(42). -tungò: itinungò was bent over 74(16). túpa sheep 112(40). -tupàd: pagtupàd a fulfilling 96(39). pagkatupàd a having fulfilled 233(35). Tùrkos S. Turks 260(10). torníliyo S. screw 92(38). túro` that pointed out, a teaching 186(32). 221(32). turò` extended, stiff 223(8). panúro` pointer 225(27). magtúro` teach 232(36). nagtùtúro` is teaching 232(38). pagtutúro` a teaching 88(14). nagtúturò` is pointing out variously 238(14). panunúro` a pointing things out 240(39). itúro` be pointed out, be shown 182(43). 249(2). katuruàn one of two who point at each other 278(25). màitúro` get taught 90(1). hintutúro` forefinger 42(14). turumpò S. spinning-top 227(6). túta` puppy 244(40). túto perception, care 166(36). màtúto get educated 168(14). nàtúto got taught 178(4). màtutúhan get learned 196(35). nàtutúhan got learned 28(2). 50(24). tutubè dragon-fly 291(28). totoò true 104(23). 116(2). tòtohánan actuality 94(21). 259(16). katotohánan truth 26(5). 68(32). nagpatotoò testified, affirmed 303(42). pagpapatotoò a testifying 304(3). pinapagpatotoò was caused to testify 305(40). tagapagpatotoò witness 20(13). toòd stump 16(23). tuòs care 46(29). tuwà` joy, gladness 46(5). 76(41). glad 80(15). ikinatuwà` was the cause of joy 26(25). ikinatútuwà` is the cause of being glad 272(26). kàtwáan a rejoicing together 120(25). magkàtwáan rejoice together 280(11). nagkàkàtwáan are rejoicing together 120(26). nakatútuwà` causes pleasure 280(40). natuwà` became glad 24(27). nangatuwà` pl. 34(23). màkatuwaàn happen to be liked 40(39). 298(28). palatwáin easily pleased 315(13). tuwì` every time, whenever 58(3). 60(40). 244. 300. 307. 317(5). -tuwìd: pagtutuwìd a reckoning 232(39). katuwíran the right 56(7). 100(38). 257(14). katuturàn right outcome 76(21). makatuwìd have figured out; consequence 56(15). matuwìd correct 44(26). 50(14). túyot drought 191(32). U (O). o S? or 16(25). 45. 321. ò oh 76(34). 80(12). 151(15). ó, see óo. -ubrà (S.): umbrà took effect, was suitable 230(11). pagubrà a taking effect 108(35). magúubrà will suit 235(11). úbos exhaustion úbos-lakàs exhaustion of strength 18(39). 22(16). úbos-làkásan exhaustion of strength by several 96(29). ipinagúbos-làkásan was done with exhaustion of strength 250(4). inùúbos is being used up 112(9). iniyúbos was expended 283(41). nakaùúbos is able to use up 112(40). naúbos was used up 312(29). naubúsan was exhausted of 32(19). ugáli` habit 96(26). inugáli` was made a habit 36(25). kaugáli` accordant in habits 266(27). kaugaliàn custom 38(10). 112(22). ugàt root, artery 218(32). 290(12). úhaw thirst 280(38). naùúhaw is thirsty 285(25). úkol with regard to, for 42(15). 50(28). 288. úlam that eaten along with one's rice 72(34). ulàn rain 110(14). umulàn rained 177(16). umúulàn is raining 152(16). úulàn will rain 168(34). pagulàn a raining 110(21). maulàn rainy 110(21). nagpápaulàn causes rain 110(15). tagulàn rainy season 202(18). ulè` again 24(11). 47. 232. See sa. úulè` will do it again 44(12). olíva S. olive 90(28). úling charcoal 70(32). -úlit: paguúlit-úlit a manifold repeating 86(10). inúlit was repeated 50(28). maúlit stubborn 24(14). úlo head 22(10). 26(4). See básag. uluhàn head-end 72(3). ulòl foolish, crazy 16(1). kaululàn foolishness 98(23). kaùlúlan one of two who fool each other 278(3). pagkaulòl insanity 254(29). umága, see -ága. -umìt: pangungumìt panguumìt petty thievery 156(3). 310(6). inumìt was filched 293(28). -umpisà: magumpisà begin 18(31). 32(16). nagumpisà began 16(26). 20(29). paguumpisà a beginning 26(35). 96(15). umpisahàn be begun 48(4). inumpisahàn was begun 26(19). 50(21). inùumpisahàn is being begun 48(37). -umpòg: nagkákaumpòg-umpòg is getting repeated bumps 62(19). -umpòk: umpúkan assemblage for talking 38(7). úna (a) first 24(15). 38(21). 273(21). pangúna number one 225(39). mangùngúna will take the lead 240(40). nangúna took the lead 240(40). inúna was taken first 42(31). pagkaúna a having got ahead 283(12). --(b) With accent-shift: nagunà-unà competed for the first place 239(19). kàunà-unáhan very first 280(16). náunà got ahead 64(8). nàùunà is ahead 88(24). pagkáunà a getting ahead 18(34). nagpáunà got himself into the first place 304(24). nagpáunà-unà got himself too far ahead 304(27). únan pillow 260(6). -únat: naúnat has been straightened 284(21). nàúnat got straightened 24(26). untì` short 219(21). untì-untì` little by little 76(12). 78(9). umuntì` grew less 28(30). untiàn be lessened 254(2). kauntì` something small, a bit 48(32). 60(16). kayuntì` what fewness 267(36). kákauntì` only few 267(8). pauntiìn be caused to be few, be reduced 98(7). ungàs stupid 22(21). unggò` monkey 16(1). nagùunggù-unggúan is playing monkey 237(11). úpa pay 56(3). 72(33). ùúpa will pay 88(12). umùúpa hires 48(29). ùupáhan will be paid 34(6). upahàn hired 114(1.23). úpang in order to, so that 16(22). 18(16). 308. ópera S. opera; see sàmáhan. úpo a vegetable, Lagenaria vulgaris Seringe 76(16). upò` sit; a sitting 220(9). 222(7). pangupò` used for sitting 225(28). umupò` sit 184(23). sat 230(15). pagupò` a sitting 230(16). nagupò` seated 235(12). nagúuupò` sits variously 239(2). paguupò` a sitting variously 181(30). nangupò` mischievously sat down on 240(41). panguupò` a mischievous sitting on 240(42). ùupàn will be sat on 254(4). inùupàn is being sat on 32(5). ùpúan a sitting together 258(9). seat 24(39). 283(9). uupàn chair 180(29). kaùpúan one of two who sit together 278(4). kinàùupàn happens to be the place of sitting 223(16). nakaupò` is seated 281(19). nangákaupò` pl. 286(11). nangàkàkaupò` are able to sit 286(14). maupò` sit down 184(24). maúupò` will sit down 192(39). naupò` sat down 24(39). naúupò` is (in the act of) sitting down 204(26). pagkaupò` a sitting down 286(4). náupò` happened to sit down 202(1). nàùupò` is sitting 30(29). 96(22). pagkáupò` a chance sitting 277(24). paupò` that caused to sit 174(29). 249(35). in sitting position 299(32). nagpaupò` caused to sit 304(4). pagpapaupò` a causing to sit 304(5). pinaupò` was caused to sit 305(4). nápaupò` involuntarily sat down 198(24). nápatiupò` fell into sitting position 313(39). nàpàpatiupò` falls on his seat 313(40). úpos cigar-butt 205(21). óras S. hour 42(4). 48(26). See kalaháti`. orásan be done promptly 254(5). orasàn watch, clock 248(14). orasiyòn S. prayer 104(14). -úrong: umùúrong is going backwards 230(18). nangagsiúrong retreated, pl. 262(30). pauròng backwards 299(34). papauròng backwards continually 300(40). usà deer 18(1). nagusà-usáhan played deer 237(12). úsap law-suit 199(33). paguúsap a conversing 70(19). pagusápan be discussed 102(5). pinagusápan was discussed 28(2). pinagùusápan is being discussed 30(29). makipagúsap converse with 28(14). nakìkipagúsap is entering into conversation with 74(30). pakikipagúsap an engaging in conversation with 80(38). kaúsap person conversed with 102(32). kumàkaúsap is talking at 268(19). kausápin be conversed with 44(2). 70(21). kinaúsap was addressed 70(24). makaúsap be able to converse 68(20). màkaúsap get conversed with 70(14). nàkaúsap got conversed with 44(26). 78(17). usbòng edible shoot 253(2). 256(13). usísa` that inquired about 221(34). nagusísa` made inquiry 76(1). nangusísa` interrogated 241(3). usisáin be asked about; be interrogated 76(14). 98(13). 290(26). inusísa` was questioned 76(28). pinagusisà` was variously questioned 76(5). nausísa` has been questioned 284(23). naùusísa` has just been questioned 76(22). mapagusísa` inquisitive 60(19). nakàusísa` happen to inquire 290(39). nàusísa` got inquired for 293(28). úso S. fashion 287(7). útang debt 54(12). 76(2). See báyad. umútang borrow 230(19). magutàng borrow variously 238(15). maguutàng habitual borrower 243(3). nangútang borrowed 241(4). mángungutàng habitual borrower 243(20). inútang was borrowed 245(24). pinangútang was (reluctantly) borrowed 247(4). utángan be borrowed from 254(6). magpaútang cause to be borrowed, lend 304(8). -utàs: nautàs was completed 303(18). útos a command 56(27). 122(5). nagútos commanded 232(41). nagùútos is commanding 114(7). iyútos be commanded 62(37). 64(13). iniyútos was commanded 24(37). 26(18). 106(17). ipinagútos was given as an order 182(19). 249(40). inutúsan was given an order 92(12). utusàn servant, waiter, orderly 254(34). 260(34). kautusàn decree, law 54(4). óo ó yes 26(2). 44(18). oóhan be answered affirmatively 254(7). napaóo assented 312(6). uwalà`, see walà`. uwè` a going home; that taken home 114(26). 221(35). umuwè` go home 34(12). 76(43). went home 50(36). 52(35). úuwè` will go home 287(20). nagsísiuwè` are going home 72(35). paguwè` a going home 70(23). naguwían went home together 26(37). pauwè` that caused to go home 298(23). homeward 34(14). nagpauwè` caused to be taken home, sent home 304(9). ipinauwè` was caused to be taken home, was sent home 304(10). W. walà` without, not having; there is not 16(10). 20(21). 69. 99. 110. 239. 248. walà ng hiyà`: kawalà-ng-hiyaàn shamelessness 277(10). nápakawalà-ng-hiyà` most impudent 98(27). pagwawalà` a breaking away 232(42). iwalà` be got rid of 249(3). kawalà` partaking of freedom 196(27). magkawalà` get away 44(6). nagkawalà` got away 44(10). nagkákawalà` is getting away 58(31). ikinawalà` was the cause of being without 292(6). ipagkawalà` be the cause of getting away 272(38). ipagkákawalà` will be the cause of getting away 272(41). ipinagkawalà` was the cause of getting away 273(1). ipinagkákawalà` is the cause of getting away 273(2). kawàwalàn will be the place of losing 206(17). kawalàn lack, absence 46(16). 118(1). makawalà` be able to get away 44(40). makawáwalà` will be able to get away 294(1). nakawalà` succeeded in getting away 46(31). 86(12). mawáwalà` will disappear 46(2). nawalà` disappeared 64(33). 82(10). nawáwalà` is disappearing 40(16). 76(13). pagkawalà` a disappearing 298(17). nawalàn has been deprived of 70(8). 82(30). pawalàn be allowed to get away 44(12). pinawalàn was allowed to get away 44(8). magpakawalà` get oneself away 106(23). pinakawalàn was allowed to get loose 66(28). 310(26). walìs broom 315(22). nagwáwalìs is sweeping 233(2). wináwalìs niwáwalìs is being swept away 245(26). niwalisàn was swept 94(7). niwàwalisàn is being swept 254(8). walò eight 52(43). 67. pangwalò number eight 225(38). wapélo C. exclamation of distress 58(38). wíka` language, word, words 20(5). 28(3). 74(39). nagwíka` spoke 20(20). winíka` was spoken 18(42). kawikaàn proverb 276(15). pagkawíka` a having spoken 20(40). -wíli: nàwíli got spellbound 88(2). pagkàwíli a getting spellbound 295(26). -wisìk: iniwisìk was sprinkled 96(27). niwisikàn was sprinkled on 64(30). nàwisikàn got sprinkled on 76(38). Y. -yábang: kayabángan pride 272(2) Corrigenda. mayábang proud 60(15). nagmayabàng boasted 238(21). ipinagmayabàng was boasted of 60(17). nagpakamayabàng boasted of himself 309(29). -yábong: mayábong grassy 18(33). yáman wealth 72(22). 80(25). yumáman get rich 60(25). got rich 74(9). pagyáman a getting rich 120(27). kayamánan wealth 308(16). mayáman wealthy 72(19). payamánin be caused to get rich 50(34). yámang while 16(12). 18(33). 309. yàn, see iyàn. yantòk rattan 46(40). Yap C. n. 234(25). -yári: mangyári happen 54(29). 66(22). mangyàyári will happen 18(11). 52(20). nangyári happened 24(27). 46(19). nangyàyári happens 40(30). 44(20). kapangyaríhan power 36(10). 40(4). yári` that made; the make 74(4). 220(10). 221(37). mayári` have been made 104(11). nayàyári` is made 34(36). 46(40). yaòn, see iyòn. -yáya`: yumáya` invited 230(21). pagyáya` an inviting 230(22). nagyayà` urged 28(11). 34(12). niyáya` was invited, summoned 32(13). 36(42). Yèng C. n. 263(4). yéro S. iron 92(35). yitò ytò, see itò.--yò, see iyò. -yukayòk: nagsísipagyukayòk are nodding 108(30). yòn, see iyòn. Yurúpa, see Eyurúpa. yúta` billion 134. yoòn, see iyòn. CORRIGENDA. The following errors are due entirely to oversights on my part; they would have been far more numerous, but for the accuracy and intelligence of the typesetter, Mr. Staley, and the unfailing kindness of the editor, Professor W. A. Oldfather.--L. B. [Transcriber's Note: The indicated errors have been corrected in the text of this edition, except for the one referring to 212(25), as the instruction is not clear enough, and 322(42), as the location could not be found.] VOLUME I. PAGE LINE FOR READ 20 16 mákinig makinìg 22 2 nabuksan nábuksan 24 31 n ng 32 1 namámatay mamámatay 38 11 galían galiàn 40 39 pagbibíro` pangbibíro` 42 6 katimbà` katimbàng 42 39 tiningnan tinangnan 44 2 sumagòt sumásagòt 44 40 nagsisigáw nagsisigàw 46 24 ngà ngá 48 20 pagbabalìk pagpapabalìk 60 38 nagbibigay nagbíbigay 62 5 syà nyà 68 13 siniglan siniglàn 72 12 hyà hyà` 74 40 a o 84 21 pinagdagukàn pinagdadagukàn 92 6 mámatày mamámatày 94 29 inapúyan inapuyàn 96 29 maínit maiínit 98 2 magbíbinyàg nagbíbinyàg 98 39 Masakìp Masikìp 99 25 giving given 100 15 ipabíbilannggò` ipabíbilanggò` 108 42 pirásu ng lamàn pirásu-ng-lamàn 114 10 pagtadtàd pagtatadtàd VOLUME II. PAGE LINE 190 2 Add: si nasíra ng Mariyà the deceased Maria. 210 30 Add example: pilìk-matà eyelash (pilìk fin, lash), and at 211(13) omit pilìk. 212 25 Omit: bagáso etc.; the word may be S. bagazo sediment. 212 37 Add: hantày hintày. 215 41 Omit: lákad. 223 17 The example of lakàd should be transferred to 222(38). 223 25 Binyàk etc.; transfer to 244(7). 244 2 Add: (ang áyap condiment). 244 4 Add example: Ang gúlok na yàn ay bàbawíin ko sa iyò, kapag ipinamútol mo nang kawáyan. I shall take back this bolo from you, if you use it for cutting bamboo. 244 7 See on 223(25). 245 39 Add: sagòt. 249 8 Add: lalà`. 259 35 Add example: ang tìpúnan a meeting; and omit típon in next line. 261 10 Add example: Ang asuhàn nang báhay ni Pédro ay nasúnog. The chimney in Pedro's house burned out; and omit asò from line 16. 261 24 Add example: luluràn shin. 267 18 Add: So gísing, káin. 277 2 Add example: kayabángan pride; and omit yábang, line 8. 277 7 Add: salúkoy. 286 30 Add example: Pagkaabòt nang bátà nang kanyà ng laruwàn ay tumakbò sya ng agàd. After reaching for his toys, the boy at once ran. Omit the words: see ábot. 294 33 Omit: ibadyà. 295 30 Add example: Sya y nárapà`. He fell on his face. 296 19 Omit: ábot, and add example: Ang pagkáabot nyà sa bóte ay hindi magálang. The way he reached for the bottle was not polite. 297 29 Add: badiyà. 299 27 For pahágis read pahagìs, and transfer the example to 300(14). 300 14 See preceding. 313 3 Add: With makà- D (§ 473) from -paríto: Hwag kà ng makàparí-paríto. Don't you ever come round here! 315 31 Add: With accent-shift: taginìt the hot season. 322 42 Add reference: 28(7). NOTES [1] An English translation by Charles Derbyshire was published in 1912 by the Philippine Education Company in Manila and the World Book Company in New York, under the title "The Social Cancer". [2] The entire syntax and much of the morphology, especially whatever relates to the accent-shifts in word-formation, will be found to be new. I have of course refrained from any and all historical surmises beyond the indication of unassimilated loan-words. The system of transcription used is, with a few deviations, that of the International Phonetic Association. [3] They were accessible to me chiefly through the courtesy of the Newberry Library in Chicago. [4] I owe this and the following statements about the degree of pitch-rise to the kindness of Dr. C. Ruckmich of the Department of Psychology of the University of Illinois. [5] It might perhaps be more correct not to include such cases under the term attribution (as will be done in the following analysis), but to set up instead an additional syntactic type of "exocentric modification". [6] In the proverbial expression at 16,18, balàt skin, skins is used as an object expression without ang, contrary to the normal habit. [7] Although grammatical terms are necessarily and properly employed in different meanings when referring to different languages, the Tagalog constructions in question are so different from what is ordinarily understood by "cases" that the above terminology has been avoided in the following discussion. [8] At 16, 2 hábang, instead of standing at the beginning of its clause, follows the subject, taking the place of ay. I take it that this sentence has been handed down in this form from an older generation of speakers. Cf. § 316. [9] Once, at 16, 18, at is used concessively, even though, and is placed not at the beginning of its phrase, but after the subject, where ay would normally stand. The sentence is no doubt traditional; it has currency as a proverb. See § 68 and cf. § 292. [10] Cf. Kern's derivation of linggò from Spanish domingo, felt as containing infix -um- (Sanskritsche woorden). [11] Where S. words are, as genuine loan-words, more or less fully Tagalized, the S. is enclosed in brackets. In cases where Mr. Santiago is not conscious of this origin, it would have been more consistent to omit the indication, but it would be very difficult to single these out. 
9603	----	Distributed Proofreaders HUNG LOU MENG, BOOK I OR, THE DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER, A CHINESE NOVEL IN TWO BOOKS BY CAO XUEQIN Translated by H. BENCRAFT JOLY BOOK I. PREFACE. This translation was suggested not by any pretensions to range myself among the ranks of the body of sinologues, but by the perplexities and difficulties experienced by me as a student in Peking, when, at the completion of the Tzu Erh Chi, I had to plunge in the maze of the Hung Lou Meng. Shortcomings are, I feel sure, to be discovered, both in the prose, as well as among the doggerel and uncouth rhymes, in which the text has been more adhered to than rhythm; but I shall feel satisfied with the result, if I succeed, even in the least degree, in affording a helping hand to present and future students of the Chinese language. H. BENCRAFT JOLY, H.B.M. Vice-Consulate, Macao, 1st September, 1891. THE DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER. CHAPTER I. Chen Shih-yin, in a vision, apprehends perception and spirituality. Chia Yü-ts'un, in the (windy and dusty) world, cherishes fond thoughts of a beautiful maiden. This is the opening section; this the first chapter. Subsequent to the visions of a dream which he had, on some previous occasion, experienced, the writer personally relates, he designedly concealed the true circumstances, and borrowed the attributes of perception and spirituality to relate this story of the Record of the Stone. With this purpose, he made use of such designations as Chen Shih-yin (truth under the garb of fiction) and the like. What are, however, the events recorded in this work? Who are the dramatis personae? Wearied with the drudgery experienced of late in the world, the author speaking for himself, goes on to explain, with the lack of success which attended every single concern, I suddenly bethought myself of the womankind of past ages. Passing one by one under a minute scrutiny, I felt that in action and in lore, one and all were far above me; that in spite of the majesty of my manliness, I could not, in point of fact, compare with these characters of the gentle sex. And my shame forsooth then knew no bounds; while regret, on the other hand, was of no avail, as there was not even a remote possibility of a day of remedy. On this very day it was that I became desirous to compile, in a connected form, for publication throughout the world, with a view to (universal) information, how that I bear inexorable and manifold retribution; inasmuch as what time, by the sustenance of the benevolence of Heaven, and the virtue of my ancestors, my apparel was rich and fine, and as what days my fare was savory and sumptuous, I disregarded the bounty of education and nurture of father and mother, and paid no heed to the virtue of precept and injunction of teachers and friends, with the result that I incurred the punishment, of failure recently in the least trifle, and the reckless waste of half my lifetime. There have been meanwhile, generation after generation, those in the inner chambers, the whole mass of whom could not, on any account, be, through my influence, allowed to fall into extinction, in order that I, unfilial as I have been, may have the means to screen my own shortcomings. Hence it is that the thatched shed, with bamboo mat windows, the bed of tow and the stove of brick, which are at present my share, are not sufficient to deter me from carrying out the fixed purpose of my mind. And could I, furthermore, confront the morning breeze, the evening moon, the willows by the steps and the flowers in the courtyard, methinks these would moisten to a greater degree my mortal pen with ink; but though I lack culture and erudition, what harm is there, however, in employing fiction and unrecondite language to give utterance to the merits of these characters? And were I also able to induce the inmates of the inner chamber to understand and diffuse them, could I besides break the weariness of even so much as a single moment, or could I open the eyes of my contemporaries, will it not forsooth prove a boon? This consideration has led to the usage of such names as Chia Yü-ts'un and other similar appellations. More than any in these pages have been employed such words as dreams and visions; but these dreams constitute the main argument of this work, and combine, furthermore, the design of giving a word of warning to my readers. Reader, can you suggest whence the story begins? The narration may border on the limits of incoherency and triviality, but it possesses considerable zest. But to begin. The Empress Nü Wo, (the goddess of works,) in fashioning blocks of stones, for the repair of the heavens, prepared, at the Ta Huang Hills and Wu Ch'i cave, 36,501 blocks of rough stone, each twelve chang in height, and twenty-four chang square. Of these stones, the Empress Wo only used 36,500; so that one single block remained over and above, without being turned to any account. This was cast down the Ch'ing Keng peak. This stone, strange to say, after having undergone a process of refinement, attained a nature of efficiency, and could, by its innate powers, set itself into motion and was able to expand and to contract. When it became aware that the whole number of blocks had been made use of to repair the heavens, that it alone had been destitute of the necessary properties and had been unfit to attain selection, it forthwith felt within itself vexation and shame, and day and night, it gave way to anguish and sorrow. One day, while it lamented its lot, it suddenly caught sight, at a great distance, of a Buddhist bonze and of a Taoist priest coming towards that direction. Their appearance was uncommon, their easy manner remarkable. When they drew near this Ch'ing Keng peak, they sat on the ground to rest, and began to converse. But on noticing the block newly-polished and brilliantly clear, which had moreover contracted in dimensions, and become no larger than the pendant of a fan, they were greatly filled with admiration. The Buddhist priest picked it up, and laid it in the palm of his hand. "Your appearance," he said laughingly, "may well declare you to be a supernatural object, but as you lack any inherent quality it is necessary to inscribe a few characters on you, so that every one who shall see you may at once recognise you to be a remarkable thing. And subsequently, when you will be taken into a country where honour and affluence will reign, into a family cultured in mind and of official status, in a land where flowers and trees shall flourish with luxuriance, in a town of refinement, renown and glory; when you once will have been there..." The stone listened with intense delight. "What characters may I ask," it consequently inquired, "will you inscribe? and what place will I be taken to? pray, pray explain to me in lucid terms." "You mustn't be inquisitive," the bonze replied, with a smile, "in days to come you'll certainly understand everything." Having concluded these words, he forthwith put the stone in his sleeve, and proceeded leisurely on his journey, in company with the Taoist priest. Whither, however, he took the stone, is not divulged. Nor can it be known how many centuries and ages elapsed, before a Taoist priest, K'ung K'ung by name, passed, during his researches after the eternal reason and his quest after immortality, by these Ta Huang Hills, Wu Ch'i cave and Ch'ing Keng Peak. Suddenly perceiving a large block of stone, on the surface of which the traces of characters giving, in a connected form, the various incidents of its fate, could be clearly deciphered, K'ung K'ung examined them from first to last. They, in fact, explained how that this block of worthless stone had originally been devoid of the properties essential for the repairs to the heavens, how it would be transmuted into human form and introduced by Mang Mang the High Lord, and Miao Miao, the Divine, into the world of mortals, and how it would be led over the other bank (across the San Sara). On the surface, the record of the spot where it would fall, the place of its birth, as well as various family trifles and trivial love affairs of young ladies, verses, odes, speeches and enigmas was still complete; but the name of the dynasty and the year of the reign were obliterated, and could not be ascertained. On the obverse, were also the following enigmatical verses: Lacking in virtues meet the azure skies to mend, In vain the mortal world full many a year I wend, Of a former and after life these facts that be, Who will for a tradition strange record for me? K'ung K'ung, the Taoist, having pondered over these lines for a while, became aware that this stone had a history of some kind. "Brother stone," he forthwith said, addressing the stone, "the concerns of past days recorded on you possess, according to your own account, a considerable amount of interest, and have been for this reason inscribed, with the intent of soliciting generations to hand them down as remarkable occurrences. But in my own opinion, they lack, in the first place, any data by means of which to establish the name of the Emperor and the year of his reign; and, in the second place, these constitute no record of any excellent policy, adopted by any high worthies or high loyal statesmen, in the government of the state, or in the rule of public morals. The contents simply treat of a certain number of maidens, of exceptional character; either of their love affairs or infatuations, or of their small deserts or insignificant talents; and were I to transcribe the whole collection of them, they would, nevertheless, not be estimated as a book of any exceptional worth." "Sir Priest," the stone replied with assurance, "why are you so excessively dull? The dynasties recorded in the rustic histories, which have been written from age to age, have, I am fain to think, invariably assumed, under false pretences, the mere nomenclature of the Han and T'ang dynasties. They differ from the events inscribed on my block, which do not borrow this customary practice, but, being based on my own experiences and natural feelings, present, on the contrary, a novel and unique character. Besides, in the pages of these rustic histories, either the aspersions upon sovereigns and statesmen, or the strictures upon individuals, their wives, and their daughters, or the deeds of licentiousness and violence are too numerous to be computed. Indeed, there is one more kind of loose literature, the wantonness and pollution in which work most easy havoc upon youth. "As regards the works, in which the characters of scholars and beauties is delineated their allusions are again repeatedly of Wen Chün, their theme in every page of Tzu Chien; a thousand volumes present no diversity; and a thousand characters are but a counterpart of each other. What is more, these works, throughout all their pages, cannot help bordering on extreme licence. The authors, however, had no other object in view than to give utterance to a few sentimental odes and elegant ballads of their own, and for this reason they have fictitiously invented the names and surnames of both men and women, and necessarily introduced, in addition, some low characters, who should, like a buffoon in a play, create some excitement in the plot. "Still more loathsome is a kind of pedantic and profligate literature, perfectly devoid of all natural sentiment, full of self-contradictions; and, in fact, the contrast to those maidens in my work, whom I have, during half my lifetime, seen with my own eyes and heard with my own ears. And though I will not presume to estimate them as superior to the heroes and heroines in the works of former ages, yet the perusal of the motives and issues of their experiences, may likewise afford matter sufficient to banish dulness, and to break the spell of melancholy. "As regards the several stanzas of doggerel verse, they may too evoke such laughter as to compel the reader to blurt out the rice, and to spurt out the wine. "In these pages, the scenes depicting the anguish of separation, the bliss of reunion, and the fortunes of prosperity and of adversity are all, in every detail, true to human nature, and I have not taken upon myself to make the slightest addition, or alteration, which might lead to the perversion of the truth. "My only object has been that men may, after a drinking bout, or after they wake from sleep or when in need of relaxation from the pressure of business, take up this light literature, and not only expunge the traces of antiquated books, and obtain a new kind of distraction, but that they may also lay by a long life as well as energy and strength; for it bears no point of similarity to those works, whose designs are false, whose course is immoral. Now, Sir Priest, what are your views on the subject?" K'ung K'ung having pondered for a while over the words, to which he had listened intently, re-perused, throughout, this record of the stone; and finding that the general purport consisted of nought else than a treatise on love, and likewise of an accurate transcription of facts, without the least taint of profligacy injurious to the times, he thereupon copied the contents, from beginning to end, to the intent of charging the world to hand them down as a strange story. Hence it was that K'ung K'ung, the Taoist, in consequence of his perception, (in his state of) abstraction, of passion, the generation, from this passion, of voluptuousness, the transmission of this voluptuousness into passion, and the apprehension, by means of passion, of its unreality, forthwith altered his name for that of "Ch'ing Tseng" (the Voluptuous Bonze), and changed the title of "the Memoir of a Stone" (Shih-t'ou-chi,) for that of "Ch'ing Tseng Lu," The Record of the Voluptuous Bonze; while K'ung Mei-chi of Tung Lu gave it the name of "Feng Yüeh Pao Chien," "The Precious Mirror of Voluptuousness." In later years, owing to the devotion by Tsao Hsüeh-ch'in in the Tao Hung study, of ten years to the perusal and revision of the work, the additions and modifications effected by him five times, the affix of an index and the division into periods and chapters, the book was again entitled "Chin Ling Shih Erh Ch'ai," "The Twelve Maidens of Chin Ling." A stanza was furthermore composed for the purpose. This then, and no other, is the origin of the Record of the Stone. The poet says appositely:-- Pages full of silly litter, Tears a handful sour and bitter; All a fool the author hold, But their zest who can unfold? You have now understood the causes which brought about the Record of the Stone, but as you are not, as yet, aware what characters are depicted, and what circumstances are related on the surface of the block, reader, please lend an ear to the narrative on the stone, which runs as follows:-- In old days, the land in the South East lay low. In this South-East part of the world, was situated a walled town, Ku Su by name. Within the walls a locality, called the Ch'ang Men, was more than all others throughout the mortal world, the centre, which held the second, if not the first place for fashion and life. Beyond this Ch'ang Men was a street called Shih-li-chieh (Ten _Li_ street); in this street a lane, the Jen Ch'ing lane (Humanity and Purity); and in this lane stood an old temple, which on account of its diminutive dimensions, was called, by general consent, the Gourd temple. Next door to this temple lived the family of a district official, Chen by surname, Fei by name, and Shih-yin by style. His wife, née Feng, possessed a worthy and virtuous disposition, and had a clear perception of moral propriety and good conduct. This family, though not in actual possession of excessive affluence and honours, was, nevertheless, in their district, conceded to be a clan of well-to-do standing. As this Chen Shih-yin was of a contented and unambitious frame of mind, and entertained no hankering after any official distinction, but day after day of his life took delight in gazing at flowers, planting bamboos, sipping his wine and conning poetical works, he was in fact, in the indulgence of these pursuits, as happy as a supernatural being. One thing alone marred his happiness. He had lived over half a century and had, as yet, no male offspring around his knees. He had one only child, a daughter, whose infant name was Ying Lien. She was just three years of age. On a long summer day, on which the heat had been intense, Shih-yin sat leisurely in his library. Feeling his hand tired, he dropped the book he held, leant his head on a teapoy, and fell asleep. Of a sudden, while in this state of unconsciousness, it seemed as if he had betaken himself on foot to some spot or other whither he could not discriminate. Unexpectedly he espied, in the opposite direction, two priests coming towards him: the one a Buddhist, the other a Taoist. As they advanced they kept up the conversation in which they were engaged. "Whither do you purpose taking the object you have brought away?" he heard the Taoist inquire. To this question the Buddhist replied with a smile: "Set your mind at ease," he said; "there's now in maturity a plot of a general character involving mundane pleasures, which will presently come to a denouement. The whole number of the votaries of voluptuousness have, as yet, not been quickened or entered the world, and I mean to avail myself of this occasion to introduce this object among their number, so as to give it a chance to go through the span of human existence." "The votaries of voluptuousness of these days will naturally have again to endure the ills of life during their course through the mortal world," the Taoist remarked; "but when, I wonder, will they spring into existence? and in what place will they descend?" "The account of these circumstances," the bonze ventured to reply, "is enough to make you laugh! They amount to this: there existed in the west, on the bank of the Ling (spiritual) river, by the side of the San Sheng (thrice-born) stone, a blade of the Chiang Chu (purple pearl) grass. At about the same time it was that the block of stone was, consequent upon its rejection by the goddess of works, also left to ramble and wander to its own gratification, and to roam about at pleasure to every and any place. One day it came within the precincts of the Ching Huan (Monitory Vision) Fairy; and this Fairy, cognizant of the fact that this stone had a history, detained it, therefore, to reside at the Ch'ih Hsia (purple clouds) palace, and apportioned to it the duties of attendant on Shen Ying, a fairy of the Ch'ih Hsia palace. "This stone would, however, often stroll along the banks of the Ling river, and having at the sight of the blade of spiritual grass been filled with admiration, it, day by day, moistened its roots with sweet dew. This purple pearl grass, at the outset, tarried for months and years; but being at a later period imbued with the essence and luxuriance of heaven and earth, and having incessantly received the moisture and nurture of the sweet dew, divested itself, in course of time, of the form of a grass; assuming, in lieu, a human nature, which gradually became perfected into the person of a girl. "Every day she was wont to wander beyond the confines of the Li Hen (divested animosities) heavens. When hungry she fed on the Pi Ch'ing (hidden love) fruit--when thirsty she drank the Kuan ch'ou (discharged sorrows,) water. Having, however, up to this time, not shewn her gratitude for the virtue of nurture lavished upon her, the result was but natural that she should resolve in her heart upon a constant and incessant purpose to make suitable acknowledgment. "I have been," she would often commune within herself, "the recipient of the gracious bounty of rain and dew, but I possess no such water as was lavished upon me to repay it! But should it ever descend into the world in the form of a human being, I will also betake myself thither, along with it; and if I can only have the means of making restitution to it, with the tears of a whole lifetime, I may be able to make adequate return." "This resolution it is that will evolve the descent into the world of so many pleasure-bound spirits of retribution and the experience of fantastic destinies; and this crimson pearl blade will also be among the number. The stone still lies in its original place, and why should not you and I take it along before the tribunal of the Monitory Vision Fairy, and place on its behalf its name on record, so that it should descend into the world, in company with these spirits of passion, and bring this plot to an issue?" "It is indeed ridiculous," interposed the Taoist. "Never before have I heard even the very mention of restitution by means of tears! Why should not you and I avail ourselves of this opportunity to likewise go down into the world? and if successful in effecting the salvation of a few of them, will it not be a work meritorious and virtuous?" "This proposal," remarked the Buddhist, "is quite in harmony with my own views. Come along then with me to the palace of the Monitory Vision Fairy, and let us deliver up this good-for-nothing object, and have done with it! And when the company of pleasure-bound spirits of wrath descend into human existence, you and I can then enter the world. Half of them have already fallen into the dusty universe, but the whole number of them have not, as yet, come together." "Such being the case," the Taoist acquiesced, "I am ready to follow you, whenever you please to go." But to return to Chen Shih-yin. Having heard every one of these words distinctly, he could not refrain from forthwith stepping forward and paying homage. "My spiritual lords," he said, as he smiled, "accept my obeisance." The Buddhist and Taoist priests lost no time in responding to the compliment, and they exchanged the usual salutations. "My spiritual lords," Shih-yin continued; "I have just heard the conversation that passed between you, on causes and effects, a conversation the like of which few mortals have forsooth listened to; but your younger brother is sluggish of intellect, and cannot lucidly fathom the import! Yet could this dulness and simplicity be graciously dispelled, your younger brother may, by listening minutely, with undefiled ear and careful attention, to a certain degree be aroused to a sense of understanding; and what is more, possibly find the means of escaping the anguish of sinking down into Hades." The two spirits smiled, "The conversation," they added, "refers to the primordial scheme and cannot be divulged before the proper season; but, when the time comes, mind do not forget us two, and you will readily be able to escape from the fiery furnace." Shih-yin, after this reply, felt it difficult to make any further inquiries. "The primordial scheme," he however remarked smiling, "cannot, of course, be divulged; but what manner of thing, I wonder, is the good-for-nothing object you alluded to a short while back? May I not be allowed to judge for myself?" "This object about which you ask," the Buddhist Bonze responded, "is intended, I may tell you, by fate to be just glanced at by you." With these words he produced it, and handed it over to Shih-yin. Shih-yin received it. On scrutiny he found it, in fact, to be a beautiful gem, so lustrous and so clear that the traces of characters on the surface were distinctly visible. The characters inscribed consisted of the four "T'ung Ling Pao Yü," "Precious Gem of Spiritual Perception." On the obverse, were also several columns of minute words, which he was just in the act of looking at intently, when the Buddhist at once expostulated. "We have already reached," he exclaimed, "the confines of vision." Snatching it violently out of his hands, he walked away with the Taoist, under a lofty stone portal, on the face of which appeared in large type the four characters: "T'ai Hsü Huan Ching," "The Visionary limits of the Great Void." On each side was a scroll with the lines: When falsehood stands for truth, truth likewise becomes false, Where naught be made to aught, aught changes into naught. Shih-yin meant also to follow them on the other side, but, as he was about to make one step forward, he suddenly heard a crash, just as if the mountains had fallen into ruins, and the earth sunk into destruction. As Shih-yin uttered a loud shout, he looked with strained eye; but all he could see was the fiery sun shining, with glowing rays, while the banana leaves drooped their heads. By that time, half of the circumstances connected with the dream he had had, had already slipped from his memory. He also noticed a nurse coming towards him with Ying Lien in her arms. To Shih-yin's eyes his daughter appeared even more beautiful, such a bright gem, so precious, and so lovable. Forthwith stretching out his arms, he took her over, and, as he held her in his embrace, he coaxed her to play with him for a while; after which he brought her up to the street to see the great stir occasioned by the procession that was going past. He was about to come in, when he caught sight of two priests, one a Taoist, the other a Buddhist, coming hither from the opposite direction. The Buddhist had a head covered with mange, and went barefooted. The Taoist had a limping foot, and his hair was all dishevelled. Like maniacs, they jostled along, chattering and laughing as they drew near. As soon as they reached Shih-yin's door, and they perceived him with Ying Lien in his arms, the Bonze began to weep aloud. Turning towards Shih-yin, he said to him: "My good Sir, why need you carry in your embrace this living but luckless thing, which will involve father and mother in trouble?" These words did not escape Shih-yin's ear; but persuaded that they amounted to raving talk, he paid no heed whatever to the bonze. "Part with her and give her to me," the Buddhist still went on to say. Shih-yin could not restrain his annoyance; and hastily pressing his daughter closer to him, he was intent upon going in, when the bonze pointed his hand at him, and burst out in a loud fit of laughter. He then gave utterance to the four lines that follow: You indulge your tender daughter and are laughed at as inane; Vain you face the snow, oh mirror! for it will evanescent wane, When the festival of lanterns is gone by, guard 'gainst your doom, 'Tis what time the flames will kindle, and the fire will consume. Shih-yin understood distinctly the full import of what he heard; but his heart was still full of conjectures. He was about to inquire who and what they were, when he heard the Taoist remark,--"You and I cannot speed together; let us now part company, and each of us will be then able to go after his own business. After the lapse of three ages, I shall be at the Pei Mang mount, waiting for you; and we can, after our reunion, betake ourselves to the Visionary Confines of the Great Void, there to cancel the name of the stone from the records." "Excellent! first rate!" exclaimed the Bonze. And at the conclusion of these words, the two men parted, each going his own way, and no trace was again seen of them. "These two men," Shih-yin then pondered within his heart, "must have had many experiences, and I ought really to have made more inquiries of them; but at this juncture to indulge in regret is anyhow too late." While Shih-yin gave way to these foolish reflections, he suddenly noticed the arrival of a penniless scholar, Chia by surname, Hua by name, Shih-fei by style and Yü-ts'un by nickname, who had taken up his quarters in the Gourd temple next door. This Chia Yü-ts'un was originally a denizen of Hu-Chow, and was also of literary and official parentage, but as he was born of the youngest stock, and the possessions of his paternal and maternal ancestors were completely exhausted, and his parents and relatives were dead, he remained the sole and only survivor; and, as he found his residence in his native place of no avail, he therefore entered the capital in search of that reputation, which would enable him to put the family estate on a proper standing. He had arrived at this place since the year before last, and had, what is more, lived all along in very straitened circumstances. He had made the temple his temporary quarters, and earned a living by daily occupying himself in composing documents and writing letters for customers. Thus it was that Shih-yin had been in constant relations with him. As soon as Yü-ts'un perceived Shih-yin, he lost no time in saluting him. "My worthy Sir," he observed with a forced smile; "how is it you are leaning against the door and looking out? Is there perchance any news astir in the streets, or in the public places?" "None whatever," replied Shih-yin, as he returned the smile. "Just a while back, my young daughter was in sobs, and I coaxed her out here to amuse her. I am just now without anything whatever to attend to, so that, dear brother Chia, you come just in the nick of time. Please walk into my mean abode, and let us endeavour, in each other's company, to while away this long summer day." After he had made this remark, he bade a servant take his daughter in, while he, hand-in-hand with Yü-ts'un, walked into the library, where a young page served tea. They had hardly exchanged a few sentences, when one of the household came in, in flying haste, to announce that Mr. Yen had come to pay a visit. Shih-yin at once stood up. "Pray excuse my rudeness," he remarked apologetically, "but do sit down; I shall shortly rejoin you, and enjoy the pleasure of your society." "My dear Sir," answered Yü-ts'un, as he got up, also in a conceding way, "suit your own convenience. I've often had the honour of being your guest, and what will it matter if I wait a little?" While these apologies were yet being spoken, Shih-yin had already walked out into the front parlour. During his absence, Yü-ts'un occupied himself in turning over the pages of some poetical work to dispel ennui, when suddenly he heard, outside the window, a woman's cough. Yü-ts'un hurriedly got up and looked out. He saw at a glance that it was a servant girl engaged in picking flowers. Her deportment was out of the common; her eyes so bright, her eyebrows so well defined. Though not a perfect beauty, she possessed nevertheless charms sufficient to arouse the feelings. Yü-ts'un unwittingly gazed at her with fixed eye. This waiting-maid, belonging to the Chen family, had done picking flowers, and was on the point of going in, when she of a sudden raised her eyes and became aware of the presence of some person inside the window, whose head-gear consisted of a turban in tatters, while his clothes were the worse for wear. But in spite of his poverty, he was naturally endowed with a round waist, a broad back, a fat face, a square mouth; added to this, his eyebrows were swordlike, his eyes resembled stars, his nose was straight, his cheeks square. This servant girl turned away in a hurry and made her escape. "This man so burly and strong," she communed within herself, "yet at the same time got up in such poor attire, must, I expect, be no one else than the man, whose name is Chia Yü-ts'un or such like, time after time referred to by my master, and to whom he has repeatedly wished to give a helping hand, but has failed to find a favourable opportunity. And as related to our family there is no connexion or friend in such straits, I feel certain it cannot be any other person than he. Strange to say, my master has further remarked that this man will, for a certainty, not always continue in such a state of destitution." As she indulged in this train of thought, she could not restrain herself from turning her head round once or twice. When Yü-ts'un perceived that she had looked back, he readily interpreted it as a sign that in her heart her thoughts had been of him, and he was frantic with irrepressible joy. "This girl," he mused, "is, no doubt, keen-eyed and eminently shrewd, and one in this world who has seen through me." The servant youth, after a short time, came into the room; and when Yü-ts'un made inquiries and found out from him that the guests in the front parlour had been detained to dinner, he could not very well wait any longer, and promptly walked away down a side passage and out of a back door. When the guests had taken their leave, Shih-yin did not go back to rejoin Yü-ts'un, as he had come to know that he had already left. In time the mid-autumn festivities drew near; and Shih-yin, after the family banquet was over, had a separate table laid in the library, and crossed over, in the moonlight, as far as the temple and invited Yü-ts'un to come round. The fact is that Yü-ts'un, ever since the day on which he had seen the girl of the Chen family turn twice round to glance at him, flattered himself that she was friendly disposed towards him, and incessantly fostered fond thoughts of her in his heart. And on this day, which happened to be the mid-autumn feast, he could not, as he gazed at the moon, refrain from cherishing her remembrance. Hence it was that he gave vent to these pentameter verses: Alas! not yet divined my lifelong wish, And anguish ceaseless comes upon anguish I came, and sad at heart, my brow I frowned; She went, and oft her head to look turned round. Facing the breeze, her shadow she doth watch, Who's meet this moonlight night with her to match? The lustrous rays if they my wish but read Would soon alight upon her beauteous head! Yü-ts'un having, after this recitation, recalled again to mind how that throughout his lifetime his literary attainments had had an adverse fate and not met with an opportunity (of reaping distinction), went on to rub his brow, and as he raised his eyes to the skies, he heaved a deep sigh and once more intoned a couplet aloud: The gem in the cask a high price it seeks, The pin in the case to take wing it waits. As luck would have it, Shih-yin was at the moment approaching, and upon hearing the lines, he said with a smile: "My dear Yü-ts'un, really your attainments are of no ordinary capacity." Yü-ts'un lost no time in smiling and replying. "It would be presumption in my part to think so," he observed. "I was simply at random humming a few verses composed by former writers, and what reason is there to laud me to such an excessive degree? To what, my dear Sir, do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" he went on to inquire. "Tonight," replied Shih-yin, "is the mid-autumn feast, generally known as the full-moon festival; and as I could not help thinking that living, as you my worthy brother are, as a mere stranger in this Buddhist temple, you could not but experience the feeling of loneliness. I have, for the express purpose, prepared a small entertainment, and will be pleased if you will come to my mean abode to have a glass of wine. But I wonder whether you will entertain favourably my modest invitation?" Yü-ts'un, after listening to the proposal, put forward no refusal of any sort; but remarked complacently: "Being the recipient of such marked attention, how can I presume to repel your generous consideration?" As he gave expression to these words, he walked off there and then, in company with Shih-yin, and came over once again into the court in front of the library. In a few minutes, tea was over. The cups and dishes had been laid from an early hour, and needless to say the wines were luscious; the fare sumptuous. The two friends took their seats. At first they leisurely replenished their glasses, and quietly sipped their wine; but as, little by little, they entered into conversation, their good cheer grew more genial, and unawares the glasses began to fly round, and the cups to be exchanged. At this very hour, in every house of the neighbourhood, sounded the fife and lute, while the inmates indulged in music and singing. Above head, the orb of the radiant moon shone with an all-pervading splendour, and with a steady lustrous light, while the two friends, as their exuberance increased, drained their cups dry so soon as they reached their lips. Yü-ts'un, at this stage of the collation, was considerably under the influence of wine, and the vehemence of his high spirits was irrepressible. As he gazed at the moon, he fostered thoughts, to which he gave vent by the recital of a double couplet. 'Tis what time three meets five, Selene is a globe! Her pure rays fill the court, the jadelike rails enrobe! Lo! in the heavens her disk to view doth now arise, And in the earth below to gaze men lift their eyes. "Excellent!" cried Shih-yin with a loud voice, after he had heard these lines; "I have repeatedly maintained that it was impossible for you to remain long inferior to any, and now the verses you have recited are a prognostic of your rapid advancement. Already it is evident that, before long, you will extend your footsteps far above the clouds! I must congratulate you! I must congratulate you! Let me, with my own hands, pour a glass of wine to pay you my compliments." Yü-ts'un drained the cup. "What I am about to say," he explained as he suddenly heaved a sigh, "is not the maudlin talk of a man under the effects of wine. As far as the subjects at present set in the examinations go, I could, perchance, also have well been able to enter the list, and to send in my name as a candidate; but I have, just now, no means whatever to make provision for luggage and for travelling expenses. The distance too to Shen Ching is a long one, and I could not depend upon the sale of papers or the composition of essays to find the means of getting there." Shih-yin gave him no time to conclude. "Why did you not speak about this sooner?" he interposed with haste. "I have long entertained this suspicion; but as, whenever I met you, this conversation was never broached, I did not presume to make myself officious. But if such be the state of affairs just now, I lack, I admit, literary qualification, but on the two subjects of friendly spirit and pecuniary means, I have, nevertheless, some experience. Moreover, I rejoice that next year is just the season for the triennial examinations, and you should start for the capital with all despatch; and in the tripos next spring, you will, by carrying the prize, be able to do justice to the proficiency you can boast of. As regards the travelling expenses and the other items, the provision of everything necessary for you by my own self will again not render nugatory your mean acquaintance with me." Forthwith, he directed a servant lad to go and pack up at once fifty taels of pure silver and two suits of winter clothes. "The nineteenth," he continued, "is a propitious day, and you should lose no time in hiring a boat and starting on your journey westwards. And when, by your eminent talents, you shall have soared high to a lofty position, and we meet again next winter, will not the occasion be extremely felicitous?" Yü-ts'un accepted the money and clothes with but scanty expression of gratitude. In fact, he paid no thought whatever to the gifts, but went on, again drinking his wine, as he chattered and laughed. It was only when the third watch of that day had already struck that the two friends parted company; and Shih-yin, after seeing Yü-ts'un off, retired to his room and slept, with one sleep all through, never waking until the sun was well up in the skies. Remembering the occurrence of the previous night, he meant to write a couple of letters of recommendation for Yü-ts'un to take along with him to the capital, to enable him, after handing them over at the mansions of certain officials, to find some place as a temporary home. He accordingly despatched a servant to ask him to come round, but the man returned and reported that from what the bonze said, "Mr. Chia had started on his journey to the capital, at the fifth watch of that very morning, that he had also left a message with the bonze to deliver to you, Sir, to the effect that men of letters paid no heed to lucky or unlucky days, that the sole consideration with them was the nature of the matter in hand, and that he could find no time to come round in person and bid good-bye." Shih-yin after hearing this message had no alternative but to banish the subject from his thoughts. In comfortable circumstances, time indeed goes by with easy stride. Soon drew near also the happy festival of the 15th of the 1st moon, and Shih-yin told a servant Huo Ch'i to take Ying Lien to see the sacrificial fires and flowery lanterns. About the middle of the night, Huo Ch'i was hard pressed, and he forthwith set Ying Lien down on the doorstep of a certain house. When he felt relieved, he came back to take her up, but failed to find anywhere any trace of Ying Lien. In a terrible plight, Huo Ch'i prosecuted his search throughout half the night; but even by the dawn of day, he had not discovered any clue of her whereabouts. Huo Ch'i, lacking, on the other hand, the courage to go back and face his master, promptly made his escape to his native village. Shih-yin--in fact, the husband as well as the wife--seeing that their child had not come home during the whole night, readily concluded that some mishap must have befallen her. Hastily they despatched several servants to go in search of her, but one and all returned to report that there was neither vestige nor tidings of her. This couple had only had this child, and this at the meridian of their life, so that her sudden disappearance plunged them in such great distress that day and night they mourned her loss to such a point as to well nigh pay no heed to their very lives. A month in no time went by. Shih-yin was the first to fall ill, and his wife, Dame Feng, likewise, by dint of fretting for her daughter, was also prostrated with sickness. The doctor was, day after day, sent for, and the oracle consulted by means of divination. Little did any one think that on this day, being the 15th of the 3rd moon, while the sacrificial oblations were being prepared in the Hu Lu temple, a pan with oil would have caught fire, through the want of care on the part of the bonze, and that in a short time the flames would have consumed the paper pasted on the windows. Among the natives of this district bamboo fences and wooden partitions were in general use, and these too proved a source of calamity so ordained by fate (to consummate this decree). With promptness (the fire) extended to two buildings, then enveloped three, then dragged four (into ruin), and then spread to five houses, until the whole street was in a blaze, resembling the flames of a volcano. Though both the military and the people at once ran to the rescue, the fire had already assumed a serious hold, so that it was impossible for them to afford any effective assistance for its suppression. It blazed away straight through the night, before it was extinguished, and consumed, there is in fact no saying how many dwelling houses. Anyhow, pitiful to relate, the Chen house, situated as it was next door to the temple, was, at an early part of the evening, reduced to a heap of tiles and bricks; and nothing but the lives of that couple and several inmates of the family did not sustain any injuries. Shih-yin was in despair, but all he could do was to stamp his feet and heave deep sighs. After consulting with his wife, they betook themselves to a farm of theirs, where they took up their quarters temporarily. But as it happened that water had of late years been scarce, and no crops been reaped, robbers and thieves had sprung up like bees, and though the Government troops were bent upon their capture, it was anyhow difficult to settle down quietly on the farm. He therefore had no other resource than to convert, at a loss, the whole of his property into money, and to take his wife and two servant girls and come over for shelter to the house of his father-in-law. His father-in-law, Feng Su, by name, was a native of Ta Ju Chou. Although only a labourer, he was nevertheless in easy circumstances at home. When he on this occasion saw his son-in-law come to him in such distress, he forthwith felt at heart considerable displeasure. Fortunately Shih-yin had still in his possession the money derived from the unprofitable realization of his property, so that he produced and handed it to his father-in-law, commissioning him to purchase, whenever a suitable opportunity presented itself, a house and land as a provision for food and raiment against days to come. This Feng Su, however, only expended the half of the sum, and pocketed the other half, merely acquiring for him some fallow land and a dilapidated house. Shih-yin being, on the other hand, a man of books and with no experience in matters connected with business and with sowing and reaping, subsisted, by hook and by crook, for about a year or two, when he became more impoverished. In his presence, Feng Su would readily give vent to specious utterances, while, with others, and behind his back, he on the contrary expressed his indignation against his improvidence in his mode of living, and against his sole delight of eating and playing the lazy. Shih-yin, aware of the want of harmony with his father-in-law, could not help giving way, in his own heart, to feelings of regret and pain. In addition to this, the fright and vexation which he had undergone the year before, the anguish and suffering (he had had to endure), had already worked havoc (on his constitution); and being a man advanced in years, and assailed by the joint attack of poverty and disease, he at length gradually began to display symptoms of decline. Strange coincidence, as he, on this day, came leaning on his staff and with considerable strain, as far as the street for a little relaxation, he suddenly caught sight, approaching from the off side, of a Taoist priest with a crippled foot; his maniac appearance so repulsive, his shoes of straw, his dress all in tatters, muttering several sentiments to this effect: All men spiritual life know to be good, But fame to disregard they ne'er succeed! From old till now the statesmen where are they? Waste lie their graves, a heap of grass, extinct. All men spiritual life know to be good, But to forget gold, silver, ill succeed! Through life they grudge their hoardings to be scant, And when plenty has come, their eyelids close. All men spiritual life hold to be good, Yet to forget wives, maids, they ne'er succeed! Who speak of grateful love while lives their lord, And dead their lord, another they pursue. All men spiritual life know to be good, But sons and grandsons to forget never succeed! From old till now of parents soft many, But filial sons and grandsons who have seen? Shih-yin upon hearing these words, hastily came up to the priest, "What were you so glibly holding forth?" he inquired. "All I could hear were a lot of hao liao (excellent, finality.") "You may well have heard the two words 'hao liao,'" answered the Taoist with a smile, "but can you be said to have fathomed their meaning? You should know that all things in this world are excellent, when they have attained finality; when they have attained finality, they are excellent; but when they have not attained finality, they are not excellent; if they would be excellent, they should attain finality. My song is entitled Excellent-finality (hao liao)." Shih-yin was gifted with a natural perspicacity that enabled him, as soon as he heard these remarks, to grasp their spirit. "Wait a while," he therefore said smilingly; "let me unravel this excellent-finality song of yours; do you mind?" "Please by all means go on with the interpretation," urged the Taoist; whereupon Shih-yin proceeded in this strain: Sordid rooms and vacant courts, Replete in years gone by with beds where statesmen lay; Parched grass and withered banian trees, Where once were halls for song and dance! Spiders' webs the carved pillars intertwine, The green gauze now is also pasted on the straw windows! What about the cosmetic fresh concocted or the powder just scented; Why has the hair too on each temple become white like hoarfrost! Yesterday the tumulus of yellow earth buried the bleached bones, To-night under the red silk curtain reclines the couple! Gold fills the coffers, silver fills the boxes, But in a twinkle, the beggars will all abuse you! While you deplore that the life of others is not long, You forget that you yourself are approaching death! You educate your sons with all propriety, But they may some day, 'tis hard to say become thieves; Though you choose (your fare and home) the fatted beam, You may, who can say, fall into some place of easy virtue! Through your dislike of the gauze hat as mean, You have come to be locked in a cangue; Yesterday, poor fellow, you felt cold in a tattered coat, To-day, you despise the purple embroidered dress as long! Confusion reigns far and wide! you have just sung your part, I come on the boards, Instead of yours, you recognise another as your native land; What utter perversion! In one word, it comes to this we make wedding clothes for others! (We sow for others to reap.) The crazy limping Taoist clapped his hands. "Your interpretation is explicit," he remarked with a hearty laugh, "your interpretation is explicit!" Shih-yin promptly said nothing more than,--"Walk on;" and seizing the stole from the Taoist's shoulder, he flung it over his own. He did not, however, return home, but leisurely walked away, in company with the eccentric priest. The report of his disappearance was at once bruited abroad, and plunged the whole neighbourhood in commotion; and converted into a piece of news, it was circulated from mouth to mouth. Dame Feng, Shih-yin's wife, upon hearing the tidings, had such a fit of weeping that she hung between life and death; but her only alternative was to consult with her father, and to despatch servants on all sides to institute inquiries. No news was however received of him, and she had nothing else to do but to practise resignation, and to remain dependent upon the support of her parents for her subsistence. She had fortunately still by her side, to wait upon her, two servant girls, who had been with her in days gone by; and the three of them, mistress as well as servants, occupied themselves day and night with needlework, to assist her father in his daily expenses. This Feng Su had after all, in spite of his daily murmurings against his bad luck, no help but to submit to the inevitable. On a certain day, the elder servant girl of the Chen family was at the door purchasing thread, and while there, she of a sudden heard in the street shouts of runners clearing the way, and every one explain that the new magistrate had come to take up his office. The girl, as she peeped out from inside the door, perceived the lictors and policemen go by two by two; and when unexpectedly in a state chair, was carried past an official, in black hat and red coat, she was indeed quite taken aback. "The face of this officer would seem familiar," she argued within herself; "just as if I had seen him somewhere or other ere this." Shortly she entered the house, and banishing at once the occurrence from her mind, she did not give it a second thought. At night, however, while she was waiting to go to bed, she suddenly heard a sound like a rap at the door. A band of men boisterously cried out: "We are messengers, deputed by the worthy magistrate of this district, and come to summon one of you to an enquiry." Feng Su, upon hearing these words, fell into such a terrible consternation that his eyes stared wide and his mouth gaped. What calamity was impending is not as yet ascertained, but, reader, listen to the explanation contained in the next chapter. CHAPTER II. The spirit of Mrs. Chia Shih-yin departs from the town of Yang Chou. Leng Tzu-hsing dilates upon the Jung Kuo Mansion. To continue. Feng Su, upon hearing the shouts of the public messengers, came out in a flurry and forcing a smile, he asked them to explain (their errand); but all these people did was to continue bawling out: "Be quick, and ask Mr. Chen to come out." "My surname is Feng," said Feng Su, as he promptly forced himself to smile; "It is'nt Chen at all: I had once a son-in-law whose surname was Chen, but he has left home, it is now already a year or two back. Is it perchance about him that you are inquiring?" To which the public servants remarked: "We know nothing about Chen or Chia (true or false); but as he is your son-in-law, we'll take you at once along with us to make verbal answer to our master and have done with it." And forthwith the whole bevy of public servants hustled Feng Su on, as they went on their way back; while every one in the Feng family was seized with consternation, and could not imagine what it was all about. It was no earlier than the second watch, when Feng Su returned home; and they, one and all, pressed him with questions as to what had happened. "The fact is," he explained, "the newly-appointed Magistrate, whose surname is Chia, whose name is Huo and who is a native of Hu-chow, has been on intimate terms, in years gone by, with our son-in-law; that at the sight of the girl Chiao Hsing, standing at the door, in the act of buying thread, he concluded that he must have shifted his quarters over here, and hence it was that his messengers came to fetch him. I gave him a clear account of the various circumstances (of his misfortunes), and the Magistrate was for a time much distressed and expressed his regret. He then went on to make inquiries about my grand-daughter, and I explained that she had been lost, while looking at the illuminations. 'No matter,' put in the Magistrate, 'I will by and by order my men to make search, and I feel certain that they will find her and bring her back.' Then ensued a short conversation, after which I was about to go, when he presented me with the sum of two taels." The mistress of the Chen family (Mrs. Chen Shih-yin) could not but feel very much affected by what she heard, and the whole evening she uttered not a word. The next day, at an early hour, Yü-ts'un sent some of his men to bring over to Chen's wife presents, consisting of two packets of silver, and four pieces of brocaded silk, as a token of gratitude, and to Feng Su also a confidential letter, requesting him to ask of Mrs. Chen her maid Chiao Hsing to become his second wife. Feng Su was so intensely delighted that his eyebrows expanded, his eyes smiled, and he felt eager to toady to the Magistrate (by presenting the girl to him). He hastened to employ all his persuasive powers with his daughter (to further his purpose), and on the same evening he forthwith escorted Chiao Hsing in a small chair to the Yamên. The joy experienced by Yü-ts'un need not be dilated upon. He also presented Feng Su with a packet containing one hundred ounces of gold; and sent numerous valuable presents to Mrs. Chen, enjoining her "to live cheerfully in the anticipation of finding out the whereabouts of her daughter." It must be explained, however, that the maid Chi'ao Hsing was the very person, who, a few years ago, had looked round at Yü-ts'un and who, by one simple, unpremeditated glance, evolved, in fact, this extraordinary destiny which was indeed an event beyond conception. Who would ever have foreseen that fate and fortune would both have so favoured her that she should, contrary to all anticipation, give birth to a son, after living with Yü-ts'un barely a year, that in addition to this, after the lapse of another half year, Yü-ts'un's wife should have contracted a sudden illness and departed this life, and that Yü-ts'un should have at once raised her to the rank of first wife. Her destiny is adequately expressed by the lines: Through but one single, casual look Soon an exalted place she took. The fact is that after Yü-ts'un had been presented with the money by Shih-yin, he promptly started on the 16th day for the capital, and at the triennial great tripos, his wishes were gratified to the full. Having successfully carried off his degree of graduate of the third rank, his name was put by selection on the list for provincial appointments. By this time, he had been raised to the rank of Magistrate in this district; but, in spite of the excellence and sufficiency of his accomplishments and abilities, he could not escape being ambitious and overbearing. He failed besides, confident as he was in his own merits, in respect toward his superiors, with the result that these officials looked upon him scornfully with the corner of the eye. A year had hardly elapsed, when he was readily denounced in a memorial to the Throne by the High Provincial authorities, who represented that he was of a haughty disposition, that he had taken upon himself to introduce innovations in the rites and ceremonies, that overtly, while he endeavoured to enjoy the reputation of probity and uprightness, he, secretly, combined the nature of the tiger and wolf; with the consequence that he had been the cause of much trouble in the district, and that he had made life intolerable for the people, &c. &c. The Dragon countenance of the Emperor was considerably incensed. His Majesty lost no time in issuing commands, in reply to the Memorial, that he should be deprived of his official status. On the arrival of the despatch from the Board, great was the joy felt by every officer, without exception, of the prefecture in which he had held office. Yü-ts'un, though at heart intensely mortified and incensed, betrayed not the least outward symptom of annoyance, but still preserved, as of old, a smiling and cheerful countenance. He handed over charge of all official business and removed the savings which he had accumulated during the several years he had been in office, his family and all his chattels to his original home; where, after having put everything in proper order, he himself travelled (carried the winds and sleeved the moon) far and wide, visiting every relic of note in the whole Empire. As luck would have it, on a certain day while making a second journey through the Wei Yang district, he heard the news that the Salt Commissioner appointed this year was Lin Ju-hai. This Lin Ju-hai's family name was Lin, his name Hai and his style Ju-hai. He had obtained the third place in the previous triennial examination, and had, by this time, already risen to the rank of Director of the Court of Censors. He was a native of Kú Su. He had been recently named by Imperial appointment a Censor attached to the Salt Inspectorate, and had arrived at his post only a short while back. In fact, the ancestors of Lin Ju-hai had, from years back, successively inherited the title of Marquis, which rank, by its present descent to Ju-hai, had already been enjoyed by five generations. When first conferred, the hereditary right to the title had been limited to three generations; but of late years, by an act of magnanimous favour and generous beneficence, extraordinary bounty had been superadded; and on the arrival of the succession to the father of Ju-hai, the right had been extended to another degree. It had now descended to Ju-hai, who had, besides this title of nobility, begun his career as a successful graduate. But though his family had been through uninterrupted ages the recipient of imperial bounties, his kindred had all been anyhow men of culture. The only misfortune had been that the several branches of the Lin family had not been prolific, so that the numbers of its members continued limited; and though there existed several households, they were all however to Ju-hai no closer relatives than first cousins. Neither were there any connections of the same lineage, or of the same parentage. Ju-hai was at this date past forty; and had only had a son, who had died the previous year, in the third year of his age. Though he had several handmaids, he had not had the good fortune of having another son; but this was too a matter that could not be remedied. By his wife, née Chia, he had a daughter, to whom the infant name of Tai Yü was given. She was, at this time, in her fifth year. Upon her the parents doated as much as if she were a brilliant pearl in the palm of their hand. Seeing that she was endowed with natural gifts of intelligence and good looks, they also felt solicitous to bestow upon her a certain knowledge of books, with no other purpose than that of satisfying, by this illusory way, their wishes of having a son to nurture and of dispelling the anguish felt by them, on account of the desolation and void in their family circle (round their knees). But to proceed. Yü-ts'un, while sojourning at an inn, was unexpectedly laid up with a violent chill. Finding on his recovery, that his funds were not sufficient to pay his expenses, he was thinking of looking out for some house where he could find a resting place when he suddenly came across two friends acquainted with the new Salt Commissioner. Knowing that this official was desirous to find a tutor to instruct his daughter, they lost no time in recommending Yü-ts'un, who moved into the Yamên. His female pupil was youthful in years and delicate in physique, so that her lessons were irregular. Besides herself, there were only two waiting girls, who remained in attendance during the hours of study, so that Yü-ts'un was spared considerable trouble and had a suitable opportunity to attend to the improvement of his health. In a twinkle, another year and more slipped by, and when least expected, the mother of his ward, née Chia, was carried away after a short illness. His pupil (during her mother's sickness) was dutiful in her attendance, and prepared the medicines for her use. (And after her death,) she went into the deepest mourning prescribed by the rites, and gave way to such excess of grief that, naturally delicate as she was, her old complaint, on this account, broke out anew. Being unable for a considerable time to prosecute her studies, Yü-ts'un lived at leisure and had no duties to attend to. Whenever therefore the wind was genial and the sun mild, he was wont to stroll at random, after he had done with his meals. On this particular day, he, by some accident, extended his walk beyond the suburbs, and desirous to contemplate the nature of the rustic scenery, he, with listless step, came up to a spot encircled by hills and streaming pools, by luxuriant clumps of trees and thick groves of bamboos. Nestling in the dense foliage stood a temple. The doors and courts were in ruins. The walls, inner and outer, in disrepair. An inscription on a tablet testified that this was the temple of Spiritual Perception. On the sides of the door was also a pair of old and dilapidated scrolls with the following enigmatical verses. Behind ample there is, yet to retract the hand, the mind heeds not, until. Before the mortal vision lies no path, when comes to turn the will. "These two sentences," Yü-ts'un pondered after perusal, "although simple in language, are profound in signification. I have previous to this visited many a spacious temple, located on hills of note, but never have I beheld an inscription referring to anything of the kind. The meaning contained in these words must, I feel certain, owe their origin to the experiences of some person or other; but there's no saying. But why should I not go in and inquire for myself?" Upon walking in, he at a glance caught sight of no one else, but of a very aged bonze, of unkempt appearance, cooking his rice. When Yü-ts'un perceived that he paid no notice, he went up to him and asked him one or two questions, but as the old priest was dull of hearing and a dotard, and as he had lost his teeth, and his tongue was blunt, he made most irrelevant replies. Yü-ts'un lost all patience with him, and withdrew again from the compound with the intention of going as far as the village public house to have a drink or two, so as to enhance the enjoyment of the rustic scenery. With easy stride, he accordingly walked up to the place. Scarcely had he passed the threshold of the public house, when he perceived some one or other among the visitors who had been sitting sipping their wine on the divan, jump up and come up to greet him, with a face beaming with laughter. "What a strange meeting! What a strange meeting!" he exclaimed aloud. Yü-ts'un speedily looked at him, (and remembered) that this person had, in past days, carried on business in a curio establishment in the capital, and that his surname was Leng and his style Tzu-hsing. A mutual friendship had existed between them during their sojourn, in days of yore, in the capital; and as Yü-ts'un had entertained the highest opinion of Leng Tzu-hsing, as being a man of action and of great abilities, while this Leng Tzu-hsing, on the other hand, borrowed of the reputation of refinement enjoyed by Yü-ts'un, the two had consequently all along lived in perfect harmony and companionship. "When did you get here?" Yü-ts'un eagerly inquired also smilingly. "I wasn't in the least aware of your arrival. This unexpected meeting is positively a strange piece of good fortune." "I went home," Tzu-hsing replied, "about the close of last year, but now as I am again bound to the capital, I passed through here on my way to look up a friend of mine and talk some matters over. He had the kindness to press me to stay with him for a couple of days longer, and as I after all have no urgent business to attend to, I am tarrying a few days, but purpose starting about the middle of the moon. My friend is busy to-day, so I roamed listlessly as far as here, never dreaming of such a fortunate meeting." While speaking, he made Yü-ts'un sit down at the same table, and ordered a fresh supply of wine and eatables; and as the two friends chatted of one thing and another, they slowly sipped their wine. The conversation ran on what had occurred after the separation, and Yü-ts'un inquired, "Is there any news of any kind in the capital?" "There's nothing new whatever," answered Tzu-hsing. "There is one thing however: in the family of one of your worthy kinsmen, of the same name as yourself, a trifling, but yet remarkable, occurrence has taken place." "None of my kindred reside in the capital," rejoined Yü-ts'un with a smile. "To what can you be alluding?" "How can it be that you people who have the same surname do not belong to one clan?" remarked Tzu-hsing, sarcastically. "In whose family?" inquired Yü-ts'un. "The Chia family," replied Tzu-hsing smiling, "whose quarters are in the Jung Kuo Mansion, does not after all reflect discredit upon the lintel of your door, my venerable friend." "What!" exclaimed Yü-ts'un, "did this affair take place in that family? Were we to begin reckoning, we would find the members of my clan to be anything but limited in number. Since the time of our ancestor Chia Fu, who lived while the Eastern Han dynasty occupied the Throne, the branches of our family have been numerous and flourishing; they are now to be found in every single province, and who could, with any accuracy, ascertain their whereabouts? As regards the Jung-kuo branch in particular, their names are in fact inscribed on the same register as our own, but rich and exalted as they are, we have never presumed to claim them as our relatives, so that we have become more and more estranged." "Don't make any such assertions," Tzu-hsing remarked with a sigh, "the present two mansions of Jung and Ning have both alike also suffered reverses, and they cannot come up to their state of days of yore." "Up to this day, these two households of Ning and of Jung," Yü-ts'un suggested, "still maintain a very large retinue of people, and how can it be that they have met with reverses?" "To explain this would be indeed a long story," said Leng Tzu-hsing. "Last year," continued Yü-ts'un, "I arrived at Chin Ling, as I entertained a wish to visit the remains of interest of the six dynasties, and as I on that day entered the walled town of Shih T'ou, I passed by the entrance of that old residence. On the east side of the street, stood the Ning Kuo mansion; on the west the Jung Kuo mansion; and these two, adjoining each other as they do, cover in fact well-nigh half of the whole length of the street. Outside the front gate everything was, it is true, lonely and deserted; but at a glance into the interior over the enclosing wall, I perceived that the halls, pavilions, two-storied structures and porches presented still a majestic and lofty appearance. Even the flower garden, which extends over the whole area of the back grounds, with its trees and rockeries, also possessed to that day an air of luxuriance and freshness, which betrayed no signs of a ruined or decrepid establishment." "You have had the good fortune of starting in life as a graduate," explained Tzu-tsing as he smiled, "and yet are not aware of the saying uttered by some one of old: that a centipede even when dead does not lie stiff. (These families) may, according to your version, not be up to the prosperity of former years, but, compared with the family of an ordinary official, their condition anyhow presents a difference. Of late the number of the inmates has, day by day, been on the increase; their affairs have become daily more numerous; of masters and servants, high and low, who live in ease and respectability very many there are; but of those who exercise any forethought, or make any provision, there is not even one. In their daily wants, their extravagances, and their expenditure, they are also unable to adapt themselves to circumstances and practise economy; (so that though) the present external framework may not have suffered any considerable collapse, their purses have anyhow begun to feel an exhausting process! But this is a mere trifle. There is another more serious matter. Would any one ever believe that in such families of official status, in a clan of education and culture, the sons and grandsons of the present age would after all be each (succeeding) generation below the standard of the former?" Yü-ts'un, having listened to these remarks, observed: "How ever can it be possible that families of such education and refinement can observe any system of training and nurture which is not excellent? Concerning the other branches, I am not in a position to say anything; but restricting myself to the two mansions of Jung and Ning, they are those in which, above all others, the education of their children is methodical." "I was just now alluding to none other than these two establishments," Tzu-hsing observed with a sigh; "but let me tell you all. In days of yore, the duke of Ning Kuo and the duke of Jung Kuo were two uterine brothers. The Ning duke was the elder; he had four sons. After the death of the duke of Ning Kuo, his eldest son, Chia Tai-hua, came into the title. He also had two sons; but the eldest, whose name was Hu, died at the age of eight or nine; and the only survivor, the second son, Chia Ching, inherited the title. His whole mind is at this time set upon Taoist doctrines; his sole delight is to burn the pill and refine the dual powers; while every other thought finds no place in his mind. Happily, he had, at an early age, left a son, Chia Chen, behind in the lay world, and his father, engrossed as his whole heart was with the idea of attaining spiritual life, ceded the succession of the official title to him. His parent is, besides, not willing to return to the original family seat, but lives outside the walls of the capital, foolishly hobnobbing with all the Taoist priests. This Mr. Chen had also a son, Chia Jung, who is, at this period, just in his sixteenth year. Mr. Ching gives at present no attention to anything at all, so that Mr. Chen naturally devotes no time to his studies, but being bent upon nought else but incessant high pleasure, he has subversed the order of things in the Ning Kuo mansion, and yet no one can summon the courage to come and hold him in check. But I'll now tell you about the Jung mansion for your edification. The strange occurrence, to which I alluded just now, came about in this manner. After the demise of the Jung duke, the eldest son, Chia Tai-shan, inherited the rank. He took to himself as wife, the daughter of Marquis Shih, a noble family of Chin Ling, by whom he had two sons; the elder being Chia She, the younger Chia Cheng. This Tai Shan is now dead long ago; but his wife is still alive, and the elder son, Chia She, succeeded to the degree. He is a man of amiable and genial disposition, but he likewise gives no thought to the direction of any domestic concern. The second son Chia Cheng displayed, from his early childhood, a great liking for books, and grew up to be correct and upright in character. His grandfather doated upon him, and would have had him start in life through the arena of public examinations, but, when least expected, Tai-shan, being on the point of death, bequeathed a petition, which was laid before the Emperor. His Majesty, out of regard for his former minister, issued immediate commands that the elder son should inherit the estate, and further inquired how many sons there were besides him, all of whom he at once expressed a wish to be introduced in his imperial presence. His Majesty, moreover, displayed exceptional favour, and conferred upon Mr. Cheng the brevet rank of second class Assistant Secretary (of a Board), and commanded him to enter the Board to acquire the necessary experience. He has already now been promoted to the office of second class Secretary. This Mr. Cheng's wife, nèe Wang, first gave birth to a son called Chia Chu, who became a Licentiate in his fourteenth year. At barely twenty, he married, but fell ill and died soon after the birth of a son. Her (Mrs. Cheng's) second child was a daughter, who came into the world, by a strange coincidence, on the first day of the year. She had an unexpected (pleasure) in the birth, the succeeding year, of another son, who, still more remarkable to say, had, at the time of his birth, a piece of variegated and crystal-like brilliant jade in his mouth, on which were yet visible the outlines of several characters. Now, tell me, was not this a novel and strange occurrence? eh?" "Strange indeed!" exclaimed Yü-ts'un with a smile; "but I presume the coming experiences of this being will not be mean." Tzu-hsing gave a faint smile. "One and all," he remarked, "entertain the same idea. Hence it is that his mother doats upon him like upon a precious jewel. On the day of his first birthday, Mr. Cheng readily entertained a wish to put the bent of his inclinations to the test, and placed before the child all kinds of things, without number, for him to grasp from. Contrary to every expectation, he scorned every other object, and, stretching forth his hand, he simply took hold of rouge, powder and a few hair-pins, with which he began to play. Mr. Cheng experienced at once displeasure, as he maintained that this youth would, by and bye, grow up into a sybarite, devoted to wine and women, and for this reason it is, that he soon began to feel not much attachment for him. But his grandmother is the one who, in spite of everything, prizes him like the breath of her own life. The very mention of what happened is even strange! He is now grown up to be seven or eight years old, and, although exceptionally wilful, in intelligence and precocity, however, not one in a hundred could come up to him! And as for the utterances of this child, they are no less remarkable. The bones and flesh of woman, he argues, are made of water, while those of man of mud. 'Women to my eyes are pure and pleasing,' he says, 'while at the sight of man, I readily feel how corrupt, foul and repelling they are!' Now tell me, are not these words ridiculous? There can be no doubt whatever that he will by and bye turn out to be a licentious roué." Yü-ts'un, whose countenance suddenly assumed a stern air, promptly interrupted the conversation. "It doesn't quite follow," he suggested. "You people don't, I regret to say, understand the destiny of this child. The fact is that even the old Hanlin scholar Mr. Cheng was erroneously looked upon as a loose rake and dissolute debauchee! But unless a person, through much study of books and knowledge of letters, so increases (in lore) as to attain the talent of discerning the nature of things, and the vigour of mind to fathom the Taoist reason as well as to comprehend the first principle, he is not in a position to form any judgment." Tzu-hsing upon perceiving the weighty import of what he propounded, "Please explain," he asked hastily, "the drift (of your argument)." To which Yü-ts'un responded: "Of the human beings created by the operation of heaven and earth, if we exclude those who are gifted with extreme benevolence and extreme viciousness, the rest, for the most part, present no striking diversity. If they be extremely benevolent, they fall in, at the time of their birth, with an era of propitious fortune; while those extremely vicious correspond, at the time of their existence, with an era of calamity. When those who coexist with propitious fortune come into life, the world is in order; when those who coexist with unpropitious fortune come into life, the world is in danger. Yao, Shun, Yü, Ch'eng T'ang, Wen Wang, Wu Wang, Chou Kung, Chao Kung, Confucius, Mencius, T'ung Hu, Han Hsin, Chou Tzu, Ch'eng Tzu, Chu Tzu and Chang Tzu were ordained to see light in an auspicious era. Whereas Ch'i Yu, Kung Kung, Chieh Wang, Chou Wang, Shih Huang, Wang Mang, Tsao Ts'ao, Wen Wen, An Hu-shan, Ch'in Kuei and others were one and all destined to come into the world during a calamitous age. Those endowed with extreme benevolence set the world in order; those possessed of extreme maliciousness turn the world into disorder. Purity, intelligence, spirituality and subtlety constitute the vital spirit of right which pervades heaven and earth, and the persons gifted with benevolence are its natural fruit. Malignity and perversity constitute the spirit of evil, which permeates heaven and earth, and malicious persons are affected by its influence. The days of perpetual happiness and eminent good fortune, and the era of perfect peace and tranquility, which now prevail, are the offspring of the pure, intelligent, divine and subtle spirit which ascends above, to the very Emperor, and below reaches the rustic and uncultured classes. Every one is without exception under its influence. The superfluity of the subtle spirit expands far and wide, and finding nowhere to betake itself to, becomes, in due course, transformed into dew, or gentle breeze; and, by a process of diffusion, it pervades the whole world. "The spirit of malignity and perversity, unable to expand under the brilliant sky and transmuting sun, eventually coagulates, pervades and stops up the deep gutters and extensive caverns; and when of a sudden the wind agitates it or it be impelled by the clouds, and any slight disposition, on its part, supervenes to set itself in motion, or to break its bounds, and so little as even the minutest fraction does unexpectedly find an outlet, and happens to come across any spirit of perception and subtlety which may be at the time passing by, the spirit of right does not yield to the spirit of evil, and the spirit of evil is again envious of the spirit of right, so that the two do not harmonize. Just like wind, water, thunder and lightning, which, when they meet in the bowels of the earth, must necessarily, as they are both to dissolve and are likewise unable to yield, clash and explode to the end that they may at length exhaust themselves. Hence it is that these spirits have also forcibly to diffuse themselves into the human race to find an outlet, so that they may then completely disperse, with the result that men and women are suddenly imbued with these spirits and spring into existence. At best, (these human beings) cannot be generated into philanthropists or perfect men; at worst, they cannot also embody extreme perversity or extreme wickedness. Yet placed among one million beings, the spirit of intelligence, refinement, perception and subtlety will be above these one million beings; while, on the other hand, the perverse, depraved and inhuman embodiment will likewise be below the million of men. Born in a noble and wealthy family, these men will be a salacious, lustful lot; born of literary, virtuous or poor parentage, they will turn out retired scholars or men of mark; though they may by some accident be born in a destitute and poverty-stricken home, they cannot possibly, in fact, ever sink so low as to become runners or menials, or contentedly brook to be of the common herd or to be driven and curbed like a horse in harness. They will become, for a certainty, either actors of note or courtesans of notoriety; as instanced in former years by Hsü Yu, T'ao Ch'ien, Yuan Chi, Chi Kang, Liu Ling, the two families of Wang and Hsieh, Ku Hu-t'ou, Ch'en Hou-chu, T'ang Ming-huang, Sung Hui-tsung, Liu T'ing-chih, Wen Fei-ching, Mei Nan-kung, Shih Man-ch'ing, Lui C'hih-ch'ing and Chin Shao-yu, and exemplified now-a-days by Ni Yün-lin, T'ang Po-hu, Chu Chih-shan, and also by Li Kuei-men, Huang P'an-cho, Ching Hsin-mo, Cho Wen-chün; and the women Hung Fu, Hsieh T'ao, Ch'ü Ying, Ch'ao Yün and others; all of whom were and are of the same stamp, though placed in different scenes of action." "From what you say," observed Tzu-hsing, "success makes (a man) a duke or a marquis; ruin, a thief!" "Quite so; that's just my idea!" replied Yü-ts'un; "I've not as yet let you know that after my degradation from office, I spent the last couple of years in travelling for pleasure all over each province, and that I also myself came across two extraordinary youths. This is why, when a short while back you alluded to this Pao-yü, I at once conjectured, with a good deal of certainty, that he must be a human being of the same stamp. There's no need for me to speak of any farther than the walled city of Chin Ling. This Mr. Chen was, by imperial appointment, named Principal of the Government Public College of the Chin Ling province. Do you perhaps know him?" "Who doesn't know him?" remarked Tzu-hsing. "This Chen family is an old connection of the Chia family. These two families were on terms of great intimacy, and I myself likewise enjoyed the pleasure of their friendship for many a day." "Last year, when at Chin Ling," Yü-ts'un continued with a smile, "some one recommended me as resident tutor to the school in the Chen mansion; and when I moved into it I saw for myself the state of things. Who would ever think that that household was grand and luxurious to such a degree! But they are an affluent family, and withal full of propriety, so that a school like this was of course not one easy to obtain. The pupil, however, was, it is true, a young tyro, but far more troublesome to teach than a candidate for the examination of graduate of the second degree. Were I to enter into details, you would indeed have a laugh. 'I must needs,' he explained, 'have the company of two girls in my studies to enable me to read at all, and to keep likewise my brain clear. Otherwise, if left to myself, my head gets all in a muddle.' Time after time, he further expounded to his young attendants, how extremely honourable and extremely pure were the two words representing woman, that they are more valuable and precious than the auspicious animal, the felicitous bird, rare flowers and uncommon plants. 'You may not' (he was wont to say), 'on any account heedlessly utter them, you set of foul mouths and filthy tongues! these two words are of the utmost import! Whenever you have occasion to allude to them, you must, before you can do so with impunity, take pure water and scented tea and rinse your mouths. In the event of any slip of the tongue, I shall at once have your teeth extracted, and your eyes gouged out.' His obstinacy and waywardness are, in every respect, out of the common. After he was allowed to leave school, and to return home, he became, at the sight of the young ladies, so tractable, gentle, sharp, and polite, transformed, in fact, like one of them. And though, for this reason, his father has punished him on more than one occasion, by giving him a sound thrashing, such as brought him to the verge of death, he cannot however change. Whenever he was being beaten, and could no more endure the pain, he was wont to promptly break forth in promiscuous loud shouts, 'Girls! girls!' The young ladies, who heard him from the inner chambers, subsequently made fun of him. 'Why,' they said, 'when you are being thrashed, and you are in pain, your only thought is to bawl out girls! Is it perchance that you expect us young ladies to go and intercede for you? How is that you have no sense of shame?' To their taunts he gave a most plausible explanation. 'Once,' he replied, 'when in the agony of pain, I gave vent to shouting girls, in the hope, perchance, I did not then know, of its being able to alleviate the soreness. After I had, with this purpose, given one cry, I really felt the pain considerably better; and now that I have obtained this secret spell, I have recourse, at once, when I am in the height of anguish, to shouts of girls, one shout after another. Now what do you say to this? Isn't this absurd, eh?" "The grandmother is so infatuated by her extreme tenderness for this youth, that, time after time, she has, on her grandson's account, found fault with the tutor, and called her son to task, with the result that I resigned my post and took my leave. A youth, with a disposition such as his, cannot assuredly either perpetuate intact the estate of his father and grandfather, or follow the injunctions of teacher or advice of friends. The pity is, however, that there are, in that family, several excellent female cousins, the like of all of whom it would be difficult to discover." "Quite so!" remarked Tzu-hsing; "there are now three young ladies in the Chia family who are simply perfection itself. The eldest is a daughter of Mr. Cheng, Yuan Ch'un by name, who, on account of her excellence, filial piety, talents, and virtue, has been selected as a governess in the palace. The second is the daughter of Mr. She's handmaid, and is called Ying Ch'un; the third is T'an Ch'un, the child of Mr. Cheng's handmaid; while the fourth is the uterine sister of Mr. Chen of the Ning Mansion. Her name is Hsi Ch'un. As dowager lady Shih is so fondly attached to her granddaughters, they come, for the most part, over to their grandmother's place to prosecute their studies together, and each one of these girls is, I hear, without a fault." "More admirable," observed Yü-ts'un, "is the régime (adhered to) in the Chen family, where the names of the female children have all been selected from the list of male names, and are unlike all those out-of-the-way names, such as Spring Blossom, Scented Gem, and the like flowery terms in vogue in other families. But how is it that the Chia family have likewise fallen into this common practice?" "Not so!" ventured Tzu-h'sing. "It is simply because the eldest daughter was born on the first of the first moon, that the name of Yuan Ch'un was given to her; while with the rest this character Ch'un (spring) was then followed. The names of the senior generation are, in like manner, adopted from those of their brothers; and there is at present an instance in support of this. The wife of your present worthy master, Mr. Lin, is the uterine sister of Mr. Chia. She and Mr. Chia Cheng, and she went, while at home, under the name of Chia Min. Should you question the truth of what I say, you are at liberty, on your return, to make minute inquiries and you'll be convinced." Yü-ts'un clapped his hands and said smiling, "It's so, I know! for this female pupil of mine, whose name is Tai-yü, invariably pronounces the character _min_ as _mi_, whenever she comes across it in the course of her reading; while, in writing, when she comes to the character 'min,' she likewise reduces the strokes by one, sometimes by two. Often have I speculated in my mind (as to the cause), but the remarks I've heard you mention, convince me, without doubt, that it is no other reason (than that of reverence to her mother's name). Strange enough, this pupil of mine is unique in her speech and deportment, and in no way like any ordinary young lady. But considering that her mother was no commonplace woman herself, it is natural that she should have given birth to such a child. Besides, knowing, as I do now, that she is the granddaughter of the Jung family, it is no matter of surprise to me that she is what she is. Poor girl, her mother, after all, died in the course of the last month." Tzu-hsing heaved a sigh. "Of three elderly sisters," he explained, "this one was the youngest, and she too is gone! Of the sisters of the senior generation not one even survives! But now we'll see what the husbands of this younger generation will be like by and bye!" "Yes," replied Yü-ts'un. "But some while back you mentioned that Mr. Cheng has had a son, born with a piece of jade in his mouth, and that he has besides a tender-aged grandson left by his eldest son; but is it likely that this Mr. She has not, himself, as yet, had any male issue?" "After Mr. Cheng had this son with the jade," Tzu-hsing added, "his handmaid gave birth to another son, who whether he be good or bad, I don't at all know. At all events, he has by his side two sons and a grandson, but what these will grow up to be by and bye, I cannot tell. As regards Mr. Chia She, he too has had two sons; the second of whom, Chia Lien, is by this time about twenty. He took to wife a relative of his, a niece of Mr. Cheng's wife, a Miss Wang, and has now been married for the last two years. This Mr. Lien has lately obtained by purchase the rank of sub-prefect. He too takes little pleasure in books, but as far as worldly affairs go, he is so versatile and glib of tongue, that he has recently taken up his quarters with his uncle Mr. Cheng, to whom he gives a helping hand in the management of domestic matters. Who would have thought it, however, ever since his marriage with his worthy wife, not a single person, whether high or low, has there been who has not looked up to her with regard: with the result that Mr. Lien himself has, in fact, had to take a back seat (_lit_. withdrew 35 li). In looks, she is also so extremely beautiful, in speech so extremely quick and fluent, in ingenuity so deep and astute, that even a man could, in no way, come up to her mark." After hearing these remarks Yü-ts'un smiled. "You now perceive," he said, "that my argument is no fallacy, and that the several persons about whom you and I have just been talking are, we may presume, human beings, who, one and all, have been generated by the spirit of right, and the spirit of evil, and come to life by the same royal road; but of course there's no saying." "Enough," cried Tzu-hsing, "of right and enough of evil; we've been doing nothing but settling other people's accounts; come now, have another glass, and you'll be the better for it!" "While bent upon talking," Yü-ts'un explained, "I've had more glasses than is good for me." "Speaking of irrelevant matters about other people," Tzu-hsing rejoined complacently, "is quite the thing to help us swallow our wine; so come now; what harm will happen, if we do have a few glasses more." Yü-ts'un thereupon looked out of the window. "The day is also far advanced," he remarked, "and if we don't take care, the gates will be closing; let us leisurely enter the city, and as we go along, there will be nothing to prevent us from continuing our chat." Forthwith the two friends rose from their seats, settled and paid their wine bill, and were just going, when they unexpectedly heard some one from behind say with a loud voice: "Accept my congratulations, Brother Yü-ts'un; I've now come, with the express purpose of giving you the welcome news!" Yü-ts'un lost no time in turning his head round to look at the speaker. But reader, if you wish to learn who the man was, listen to the details given in the following chapter. CHAPTER III. Lin Ju-hai appeals to his brother-in-law, Chia Cheng, recommending Yü-ts'un, his daughter's tutor, to his consideration. Dowager lady Chia sends to fetch her granddaughter, out of commiseration for her being a motherless child. But to proceed with our narrative. Yü-ts'un, on speedily turning round, perceived that the speaker was no other than a certain Chang Ju-kuei, an old colleague of his, who had been denounced and deprived of office, on account of some case or other; a native of that district, who had, since his degradation, resided in his family home. Having lately come to hear the news that a memorial, presented in the capital, that the former officers (who had been cashiered) should be reinstated, had received the imperial consent, he had promptly done all he could, in every nook and corner, to obtain influence, and to find the means (of righting his position,) when he, unexpectedly, came across Yü-ts'un, to whom he therefore lost no time in offering his congratulations. The two friends exchanged the conventional salutations, and Chang Ju-kuei forthwith communicated the tidings to Yü-ts'un. Yü-ts'un was delighted, but after he had made a few remarks, in a great hurry, each took his leave and sped on his own way homewards. Leng Tzu-hsing, upon hearing this conversation, hastened at once to propose a plan, advising Yü-ts'un to request Lin Ju-hai, in his turn, to appeal in the capital to Mr. Chia Cheng for support. Yü-ts'un accepted the suggestion, and parted from his companion. On his return to his quarters, he made all haste to lay his hand on the Metropolitan Gazette, and having ascertained that the news was authentic, he had on the next day a personal consultation with Ju-hai. "Providence and good fortune are both alike propitious!" exclaimed Ju-hai. "After the death of my wife, my mother-in-law, whose residence is in the capital, was so very solicitous on my daughter's account, for having no one to depend upon, that she despatched, at an early period, boats with men and women servants to come and fetch her. But my child was at the time not quite over her illness, and that is why she has not yet started. I was, this very moment, cogitating to send my daughter to the capital. And in view of the obligation, under which I am to you for the instruction you have heretofore conferred upon her, remaining as yet unrequited, there is no reason why, when such an opportunity as this presents itself, I should not do my utmost to find means to make proper acknowledgment. I have already, in anticipation, given the matter my attention, and written a letter of recommendation to my brother-in-law, urging him to put everything right for you, in order that I may, to a certain extent, be able to give effect to my modest wishes. As for any outlay that may prove necessary, I have given proper explanation, in the letter to my brother-in-law, so that you, my brother, need not trouble yourself by giving way to much anxiety." As Yü-ts'un bowed and expressed his appreciation in most profuse language,-- "Pray," he asked, "where does your honoured brother-in-law reside? and what is his official capacity? But I fear I'm too coarse in my manner, and could not presume to obtrude myself in his presence." Ju-hai smiled. "And yet," he remarked, "this brother-in-law of mine is after all of one and the same family as your worthy self, for he is the grandson of the Duke Jung. My elder brother-in-law has now inherited the status of Captain-General of the first grade. His name is She, his style Ngen-hou. My second brother-in-law's name is Cheng, his style is Tzu-chou. His present post is that of a Second class Secretary in the Board of Works. He is modest and kindhearted, and has much in him of the habits of his grandfather; not one of that purse-proud and haughty kind of men. That is why I have written to him and made the request on your behalf. Were he different to what he really is, not only would he cast a slur upon your honest purpose, honourable brother, but I myself likewise would not have been as prompt in taking action." When Yü-ts'un heard these remarks, he at length credited what had been told him by Tzu-hsing the day before, and he lost no time in again expressing his sense of gratitude to Lin Ju-hai. Ju-hai resumed the conversation. "I have fixed," (he explained,) "upon the second of next month, for my young daughter's departure for the capital, and, if you, brother mine, were to travel along with her, would it not be an advantage to herself, as well as to yourself?" Yü-ts'un signified his acquiescence as he listened to his proposal; feeling in his inner self extremely elated. Ju-hai availed himself of the earliest opportunity to get ready the presents (for the capital) and all the requirements for the journey, which (when completed,) Yü-ts'un took over one by one. His pupil could not, at first, brook the idea, of a separation from her father, but the pressing wishes of her grandmother left her no course (but to comply). "Your father," Ju-hai furthermore argued with her, "is already fifty; and I entertain no wish to marry again; and then you are always ailing; besides, with your extreme youth, you have, above, no mother of your own to take care of you, and below, no sisters to attend to you. If you now go and have your maternal grandmother, as well as your mother's brothers and your cousins to depend upon, you will be doing the best thing to reduce the anxiety which I feel in my heart on your behalf. Why then should you not go?" Tai-yü, after listening to what her father had to say, parted from him in a flood of tears and followed her nurse and several old matrons from the Jung mansion on board her boat, and set out on her journey. Yü-ts'un had a boat to himself, and with two youths to wait on him, he prosecuted his voyage in the wake of Tai-yü. By a certain day, they reached Ching Tu; and Yü-ts'un, after first adjusting his hat and clothes, came, attended by a youth, to the door of the Jung mansion, and sent in a card, which showed his lineage. Chia Cheng had, by this time, perused his brother-in-law's letter, and he speedily asked him to walk in. When they met, he found in Yü-ts'un an imposing manner and polite address. This Chia Cheng had, in fact, a great penchant above all things for men of education, men courteous to the talented, respectful to the learned, ready to lend a helping hand to the needy and to succour the distressed, and was, to a great extent, like his grandfather. As it was besides a wish intimated by his brother-in-law, he therefore treated Yü-ts'un with a consideration still more unusual, and readily strained all his resources to assist him. On the very day on which the memorial was submitted to the Throne, he obtained by his efforts, a reinstatement to office, and before the expiry of two months, Yü-t'sun was forthwith selected to fill the appointment of prefect of Ying T'ien in Chin Ling. Taking leave of Chia Cheng, he chose a propitious day, and proceeded to his post, where we will leave him without further notice for the present. But to return to Tai-yü. On the day on which she left the boat, and the moment she put her foot on shore, there were forthwith at her disposal chairs for her own use, and carts for the luggage, sent over from the Jung mansion. Lin Tai-yü had often heard her mother recount how different was her grandmother's house from that of other people's; and having seen for herself how above the common run were already the attendants of the three grades, (sent to wait upon her,) in attire, in their fare, in all their articles of use, "how much more," (she thought to herself) "now that I am going to her home, must I be careful at every step, and circumspect at every moment! Nor must I utter one word too many, nor make one step more than is proper, for fear lest I should be ridiculed by any of them!" From the moment she got into the chair, and they had entered within the city walls, she found, as she looked around, through the gauze window, at the bustle in the streets and public places and at the immense concourse of people, everything naturally so unlike what she had seen elsewhere. After they had also been a considerable time on the way, she suddenly caught sight, at the northern end of the street, of two huge squatting lions of marble and of three lofty gates with (knockers representing) the heads of animals. In front of these gates, sat, in a row, about ten men in coloured hats and fine attire. The main gate was not open. It was only through the side gates, on the east and west, that people went in and came out. Above the centre gate was a tablet. On this tablet were inscribed in five large characters--"The Ning Kuo mansion erected by imperial command." "This must be grandmother's eldest son's residence," reflected Tai-yü. Towards the east, again, at no great distance, were three more high gateways, likewise of the same kind as those she had just seen. This was the Jung Kuo mansion. They did not however go in by the main gate; but simply made their entrance through the east side door. With the sedans on their shoulders, (the bearers) proceeded about the distance of the throw of an arrow, when upon turning a corner, they hastily put down the chairs. The matrons, who came behind, one and all also dismounted. (The bearers) were changed for four youths of seventeen or eighteen, with hats and clothes without a blemish, and while they carried the chair, the whole bevy of matrons followed on foot. When they reached a creeper-laden gate, the sedan was put down, and all the youths stepped back and retired. The matrons came forward, raised the screen, and supported Tai-yü to descend from the chair. Lin Tai-yü entered the door with the creepers, resting on the hand of a matron. On both sides was a verandah, like two outstretched arms. An Entrance Hall stood in the centre, in the middle of which was a door-screen of Ta Li marble, set in an ebony frame. On the other side of this screen were three very small halls. At the back of these came at once an extensive courtyard, belonging to the main building. In the front part were five parlours, the frieze of the ceiling of which was all carved, and the pillars ornamented. On either side, were covered avenues, resembling passages through a rock. In the side-rooms were suspended cages, full of parrots of every colour, thrushes, and birds of every description. On the terrace-steps, sat several waiting maids, dressed in red and green, and the whole company of them advanced, with beaming faces, to greet them, when they saw the party approach. "Her venerable ladyship," they said, "was at this very moment thinking of you, miss, and, by a strange coincidence, here you are." Three or four of them forthwith vied with each other in raising the door curtain, while at the same time was heard some one announce: "Miss Lin has arrived." No sooner had she entered the room, than she espied two servants supporting a venerable lady, with silver-white hair, coming forward to greet her. Convinced that this lady must be her grandmother, she was about to prostrate herself and pay her obeisance, when she was quickly clasped in the arms of her grandmother, who held her close against her bosom; and as she called her "my liver! my flesh!" (my love! my darling!) she began to sob aloud. The bystanders too, at once, without one exception, melted into tears; and Tai-yü herself found some difficulty in restraining her sobs. Little by little the whole party succeeded in consoling her, and Tai-yü at length paid her obeisance to her grandmother. Her ladyship thereupon pointed them out one by one to Tai-yü. "This," she said, "is the wife of your uncle, your mother's elder brother; this is the wife of your uncle, her second brother; and this is your eldest sister-in-law Chu, the wife of your senior cousin Chu." Tai-yü bowed to each one of them (with folded arms). "Ask the young ladies in," dowager lady Chia went on to say; "tell them a guest from afar has just arrived, one who comes for the first time; and that they may not go to their lessons." The servants with one voice signified their obedience, and two of them speedily went to carry out her orders. Not long after three nurses and five or six waiting-maids were seen ushering in three young ladies. The first was somewhat plump in figure and of medium height; her cheeks had a congealed appearance, like a fresh lichee; her nose was glossy like goose fat. She was gracious, demure, and lovable to look at. The second had sloping shoulders, and a slim waist. Tall and slender was she in stature, with a face like the egg of a goose. Her eyes so beautiful, with their well-curved eyebrows, possessed in their gaze a bewitching flash. At the very sight of her refined and elegant manners all idea of vulgarity was forgotten. The third was below the medium size, and her mien was, as yet, childlike. In their head ornaments, jewelry, and dress, the get-up of the three young ladies was identical. Tai-yü speedily rose to greet them and to exchange salutations. After they had made each other's acquaintance, they all took a seat, whereupon the servants brought the tea. Their conversation was confined to Tai-yü's mother,--how she had fallen ill, what doctors had attended her, what medicines had been given her, and how she had been buried and mourned; and dowager lady Chia was naturally again in great anguish. "Of all my daughters," she remarked, "your mother was the one I loved best, and now in a twinkle, she has passed away, before me too, and I've not been able to so much as see her face. How can this not make my heart sore-stricken?" And as she gave vent to these feelings, she took Tai-yü's hand in hers, and again gave way to sobs; and it was only after the members of the family had quickly made use of much exhortation and coaxing, that they succeeded, little by little, in stopping her tears. They all perceived that Tai-yü, despite her youthful years and appearance, was lady-like in her deportment and address, and that though with her delicate figure and countenance, (she seemed as if) unable to bear the very weight of her clothes, she possessed, however, a certain captivating air. And as they readily noticed the symptoms of a weak constitution, they went on in consequence to make inquiries as to what medicines she ordinarily took, and how it was that her complaint had not been cured. "I have," explained Tai-yü, "been in this state ever since I was born; though I've taken medicines from the very time I was able to eat rice, up to the present, and have been treated by ever so many doctors of note, I've not derived any benefit. In the year when I was yet only three, I remember a mangy-headed bonze coming to our house, and saying that he would take me along, and make a nun of me; but my father and mother would, on no account, give their consent. 'As you cannot bear to part from her and to give her up,' he then remarked, 'her ailment will, I fear, never, throughout her life, be cured. If you wish to see her all right, it is only to be done by not letting her, from this day forward, on any account, listen to the sound of weeping, or see, with the exception of her parents, any relatives outside the family circle. Then alone will she be able to go through this existence in peace and in quiet.' No one heeded the nonsensical talk of this raving priest; but here am I, up to this very day, dosing myself with ginseng pills as a tonic." "What a lucky coincidence!" interposed dowager lady Chia; "some of these pills are being compounded here, and I'll simply tell them to have an extra supply made; that's all." Hardly had she finished these words, when a sound of laughter was heard from the back courtyard. "Here I am too late!" the voice said, "and not in time to receive the distant visitor!" "Every one of all these people," reflected Tai-yü, "holds her peace and suppresses the very breath of her mouth; and who, I wonder, is this coming in this reckless and rude manner?" While, as yet, preoccupied with these thoughts, she caught sight of a crowd of married women and waiting-maids enter from the back room, pressing round a regular beauty. The attire of this person bore no similarity to that of the young ladies. In all her splendour and lustre, she looked like a fairy or a goddess. In her coiffure, she had a band of gold filigree work, representing the eight precious things, inlaid with pearls; and wore pins, at the head of each of which were five phoenixes in a rampant position, with pendants of pearls. On her neck, she had a reddish gold necklet, like coiled dragons, with a fringe of tassels. On her person, she wore a tight-sleeved jacket, of dark red flowered satin, covered with hundreds of butterflies, embroidered in gold, interspersed with flowers. Over all, she had a variegated stiff-silk pelisse, lined with slate-blue ermine; while her nether garments consisted of a jupe of kingfisher-colour foreign crepe, brocaded with flowers. She had a pair of eyes, triangular in shape like those of the red phoenix, two eyebrows, curved upwards at each temple, like willow leaves. Her stature was elegant; her figure graceful; her powdered face like dawning spring, majestic, yet not haughty. Her carnation lips, long before they parted, betrayed a smile. Tai-yü eagerly rose and greeted her. Old lady Chia then smiled. "You don't know her," she observed. "This is a cunning vixen, who has made quite a name in this establishment! In Nanking, she went by the appellation of vixen, and if you simply call her Feng Vixen, it will do." Tai-yü was just at a loss how to address her, when all her cousins informed Tai-yü, that this was her sister-in-law Lien. Tai-yü had not, it is true, made her acquaintance before, but she had heard her mother mention that her eldest maternal uncle Chia She's son, Chia Lien, had married the niece of Madame Wang, her second brother's wife, a girl who had, from her infancy, purposely been nurtured to supply the place of a son, and to whom the school name of Wang Hsi-feng had been given. Tai-yü lost no time in returning her smile and saluting her with all propriety, addressing her as my sister-in-law. This Hsi-feng laid hold of Tai-yü's hand, and minutely scrutinised her, for a while, from head to foot; after which she led her back next to dowager lady Chia, where they both took a seat. "If really there be a being of such beauty in the world," she consequently observed with a smile, "I may well consider as having set eyes upon it to-day! Besides, in the air of her whole person, she doesn't in fact look like your granddaughter-in-law, our worthy ancestor, but in every way like your ladyship's own kindred- granddaughter! It's no wonder then that your venerable ladyship should have, day after day, had her unforgotten, even for a second, in your lips and heart. It's a pity, however, that this cousin of mine should have such a hard lot! How did it happen that our aunt died at such an early period?" As she uttered these words, she hastily took her handkerchief and wiped the tears from her eyes. "I've only just recovered from a fit of crying," dowager lady Chia observed, as she smiled, "and have you again come to start me? Your cousin has only now arrived from a distant journey, and she is so delicate to boot! Besides, we have a few minutes back succeeded in coaxing her to restrain her sobs, so drop at once making any allusion to your former remarks!" This Hsi-feng, upon hearing these words, lost no time in converting her sorrow into joy. "Quite right," she remarked. "But at the sight of my cousin, my whole heart was absorbed in her, and I felt happy, and yet wounded at heart: but having disregarded my venerable ancestor's presence, I deserve to be beaten, I do indeed!" And hastily taking once more Tai-yü's hand in her own: "How old are you, cousin?" she inquired; "Have you been to school? What medicines are you taking? while you live here, you mustn't feel homesick; and if there's anything you would like to eat, or to play with, mind you come and tell me! or should the waiting maids or the matrons fail in their duties, don't forget also to report them to me." Addressing at the same time the matrons, she went on to ask, "Have Miss Lin's luggage and effects been brought in? How many servants has she brought along with her? Go, as soon as you can, and sweep two lower rooms and ask them to go and rest." As she spake, tea and refreshments had already been served, and Hsi-feng herself handed round the cups and offered the fruits. Upon hearing the question further put by her maternal aunt Secunda, "Whether the issue of the monthly allowances of money had been finished or not yet?" Hsi-feng replied: "The issue of the money has also been completed; but a few moments back, when I went along with several servants to the back upper-loft, in search of the satins, we looked for ever so long, but we saw nothing of the kind of satins alluded to by you, madame, yesterday; so may it not be that your memory misgives you?" "Whether there be any or not, of that special kind, is of no consequence," observed madame Wang. "You should take out," she therefore went on to add, "any two pieces which first come under your hand, for this cousin of yours to make herself dresses with; and in the evening, if I don't forget, I'll send some one to fetch them." "I've in fact already made every provision," rejoined Hsi-feng; "knowing very well that my cousin would be arriving within these two days, I have had everything got ready for her. And when you, madame, go back, if you will pass an eye over everything, I shall be able to send them round." Madame Wang gave a smile, nodded her head assentingly, but uttered not a word by way of reply. The tea and fruit had by this time been cleared, and dowager lady Chia directed two old nurses to take Tai-yü to go and see her two maternal uncles; whereupon Chia She's wife, madame Hsing, hastily stood up and with a smiling face suggested, "I'll take my niece over; for it will after all be considerably better if I go!" "Quite so!" answered dowager lady Chia, smiling; "you can go home too, and there will be no need for you to come over again!" Madame Hsing expressed her assent, and forthwith led Tai-yü to take leave of madame Wang. The whole party escorted them as far as the door of the Entrance Hall, hung with creepers, where several youths had drawn a carriage, painted light blue, with a kingfisher-coloured hood. Madame Hsing led Tai-yü by the hand and they got up into their seats. The whole company of matrons put the curtain down, and then bade the youths raise the carriage; who dragged it along, until they came to an open space, where they at length put the mules into harness. Going out again by the eastern side gate, they proceeded in an easterly direction, passed the main entrance of the Jung mansion, and entered a lofty doorway painted black. On the arrival in front of the ceremonial gate, they at once dismounted from the curricle, and madame Hsing, hand-in-hand with Tai-yü, walked into the court. "These grounds," surmised Tai-yü to herself, "must have been originally converted from a piece partitioned from the garden of the Jung mansion." Having entered three rows of ceremonial gates they actually caught sight of the main structure, with its vestibules and porches, all of which, though on a small scale, were full of artistic and unique beauty. They were nothing like the lofty, imposing, massive and luxurious style of architecture on the other side, yet the avenues and rockeries, in the various places in the court, were all in perfect taste. When they reached the interior of the principal pavilion, a large concourse of handmaids and waiting maids, got up in gala dress, were already there to greet them. Madame Hsing pressed Tai-yü into a seat, while she bade some one go into the outer library and request Mr. Chia She to come over. In a few minutes the servant returned. "Master," she explained, "says: 'that he has not felt quite well for several days, that as the meeting with Miss Lin will affect both her as well as himself, he does not for the present feel equal to seeing each other, that he advises Miss Lin not to feel despondent or homesick; that she ought to feel quite at home with her venerable ladyship, (her grandmother,) as well as her maternal aunts; that her cousins are, it is true, blunt, but that if all the young ladies associated together in one place, they may also perchance dispel some dulness; that if ever (Miss Lin) has any grievance, she should at once speak out, and on no account feel a stranger; and everything will then be right." Tai-yü lost no time in respectfully standing up, resuming her seat after she had listened to every sentence of the message to her. After a while, she said goodbye, and though madame Hsing used every argument to induce her to stay for the repast and then leave, Tai-yü smiled and said, "I shouldn't under ordinary circumstances refuse the invitation to dinner, which you, aunt, in your love kindly extend to me, but I have still to cross over and pay my respects to my maternal uncle Secundus; if I went too late, it would, I fear, be a lack of respect on my part; but I shall accept on another occasion. I hope therefore that you will, dear aunt, kindly excuse me." "If such be the case," madame Hsing replied, "it's all right." And presently directing two nurses to take her niece over, in the carriage, in which they had come a while back, Tai-yü thereupon took her leave; madame Hsing escorting her as far as the ceremonial gate, where she gave some further directions to all the company of servants. She followed the curricle with her eyes so long as it remained in sight, and at length retraced her footsteps. Tai-yü shortly entered the Jung Mansion, descended from the carriage, and preceded by all the nurses, she at once proceeded towards the east, turned a corner, passed through an Entrance Hall, running east and west, and walked in a southern direction, at the back of the Large Hall. On the inner side of a ceremonial gate, and at the upper end of a spacious court, stood a large main building, with five apartments, flanked on both sides by out-houses (stretching out) like the antlers on the head of deer; side-gates, resembling passages through a hill, establishing a thorough communication all round; (a main building) lofty, majestic, solid and grand, and unlike those in the compound of dowager lady Chia. Tai-yü readily concluded that this at last was the main inner suite of apartments. A raised broad road led in a straight line to the large gate. Upon entering the Hall, and raising her head, she first of all perceived before her a large tablet with blue ground, upon which figured nine dragons of reddish gold. The inscription on this tablet consisted of three characters as large as a peck-measure, and declared that this was the Hall of Glorious Felicity. At the end, was a row of characters of minute size, denoting the year, month and day, upon which His Majesty had been pleased to confer the tablet upon Chia Yuan, Duke of Jung Kuo. Besides this tablet, were numberless costly articles bearing the autograph of the Emperor. On the large black ebony table, engraved with dragons, were placed three antique blue and green bronze tripods, about three feet in height. On the wall hung a large picture representing black dragons, such as were seen in waiting chambers of the Sui dynasty. On one side stood a gold cup of chased work, while on the other, a crystal casket. On the ground were placed, in two rows, sixteen chairs, made of hard-grained cedar. There was also a pair of scrolls consisting of black-wood antithetical tablets, inlaid with the strokes of words in chased gold. Their burden was this: On the platform shine resplendent pearls like sun or moon, And the sheen of the Hall façade gleams like russet sky. Below, was a row of small characters, denoting that the scroll had been written by the hand of Mu Shih, a fellow-countryman and old friend of the family, who, for his meritorious services, had the hereditary title of Prince of Tung Ngan conferred upon him. The fact is that madame Wang was also not in the habit of sitting and resting, in this main apartment, but in three side-rooms on the east, so that the nurses at once led Tai-yü through the door of the eastern wing. On a stove-couch, near the window, was spread a foreign red carpet. On the side of honour, were laid deep red reclining-cushions, with dragons, with gold cash (for scales), and an oblong brown-coloured sitting-cushion with gold-cash-spotted dragons. On the two sides, stood one of a pair of small teapoys of foreign lacquer of peach-blossom pattern. On the teapoy on the left, were spread out Wen Wang tripods, spoons, chopsticks and scent-bottles. On the teapoy on the right, were vases from the Ju Kiln, painted with girls of great beauty, in which were placed seasonable flowers; (on it were) also teacups, a tea service and the like articles. On the floor on the west side of the room, were four chairs in a row, all of which were covered with antimacassars, embroidered with silverish-red flowers, while below, at the feet of these chairs, stood four footstools. On either side, was also one of a pair of high teapoys, and these teapoys were covered with teacups and flower vases. The other nick-nacks need not be minutely described. The old nurses pressed Tai-yü to sit down on the stove-couch; but, on perceiving near the edge of the couch two embroidered cushions, placed one opposite the other, she thought of the gradation of seats, and did not therefore place herself on the couch, but on a chair on the eastern side of the room; whereupon the waiting maids, in attendance in these quarters, hastened to serve the tea. While Tai-yü was sipping her tea, she observed the headgear, dress, deportment and manners of the several waiting maids, which she really found so unlike what she had seen in other households. She had hardly finished her tea, when she noticed a waiting maid approach, dressed in a red satin jacket, and a waistcoat of blue satin with scollops. "My lady requests Miss Lin to come over and sit with her," she remarked as she put on a smile. The old nurses, upon hearing this message, speedily ushered Tai-yü again out of this apartment, into the three-roomed small main building by the eastern porch. On the stove-couch, situated at the principal part of the room, was placed, in a transverse position, a low couch-table, at the upper end of which were laid out, in a heap, books and a tea service. Against the partition-wall, on the east side, facing the west, was a reclining pillow, made of blue satin, neither old nor new. Madame Wang, however, occupied the lower seat, on the west side, on which was likewise placed a rather shabby blue satin sitting-rug, with a back-cushion; and upon perceiving Tai-yü come in she urged her at once to sit on the east side. Tai-yü concluded, in her mind, that this seat must certainly belong to Chia Cheng, and espying, next to the couch, a row of three chairs, covered with antimacassars, strewn with embroidered flowers, somewhat also the worse for use, Tai-yü sat down on one of these chairs. But as madame Wang pressed her again and again to sit on the couch, Tai-yü had at length to take a seat next to her. "Your uncle," madame Wang explained, "is gone to observe this day as a fast day, but you'll see him by and bye. There's, however, one thing I want to talk to you about. Your three female cousins are all, it is true, everything that is nice; and you will, when later on you come together for study, or to learn how to do needlework, or whenever, at any time, you romp and laugh together, find them all most obliging; but there's one thing that causes me very much concern. I have here one, who is the very root of retribution, the incarnation of all mischief, one who is a ne'er-do-well, a prince of malignant spirits in this family. He is gone to-day to pay his vows in the temple, and is not back yet, but you will see him in the evening, when you will readily be able to judge for yourself. One thing you must do, and that is, from this time forth, not to pay any notice to him. All these cousins of yours don't venture to bring any taint upon themselves by provoking him." Tai-yü had in days gone by heard her mother explain that she had a nephew, born into the world, holding a piece of jade in his mouth, who was perverse beyond measure, who took no pleasure in his books, and whose sole great delight was to play the giddy dog in the inner apartments; that her maternal grandmother, on the other hand, loved him so fondly that no one ever presumed to call him to account, so that when, in this instance, she heard madame Wang's advice, she at once felt certain that it must be this very cousin. "Isn't it to the cousin born with jade in his mouth, that you are alluding to, aunt?" she inquired as she returned her smile. "When I was at home, I remember my mother telling me more than once of this very cousin, who (she said) was a year older than I, and whose infant name was Pao-yü. She added that his disposition was really wayward, but that he treats all his cousins with the utmost consideration. Besides, now that I have come here, I shall, of course, be always together with my female cousins, while the boys will have their own court, and separate quarters; and how ever will there be any cause of bringing any slur upon myself by provoking him?" "You don't know the reasons (that prompt me to warn you)," replied madame Wang laughingly. "He is so unlike all the rest, all because he has, since his youth up, been doated upon by our old lady! The fact is that he has been spoilt, through over-indulgence, by being always in the company of his female cousins! If his female cousins pay no heed to him, he is, at any rate, somewhat orderly, but the day his cousins say one word more to him than usual, much trouble forthwith arises, at the outburst of delight in his heart. That's why I enjoin upon you not to heed him. From his mouth, at one time, issue sugared words and mellifluous phrases; and at another, like the heavens devoid of the sun, he becomes a raving fool; so whatever you do, don't believe all he says." Tai-yü was assenting to every bit of advice as it was uttered, when unexpectedly she beheld a waiting-maid walk in. "Her venerable ladyship over there," she said, "has sent word about the evening meal." Madame Wang hastily took Tai-yü by the hand, and emerging by the door of the back-room, they went eastwards by the verandah at the back. Past the side gate, was a roadway, running north and south. On the southern side were a pavilion with three divisions and a Reception Hall with a colonnade. On the north, stood a large screen wall, painted white; behind it was a very small building, with a door of half the ordinary size. "These are your cousin Feng's rooms," explained madame Wang to Tai-yü, as she pointed to them smiling. "You'll know in future your way to come and find her; and if you ever lack anything, mind you mention it to her, and she'll make it all right." At the door of this court, were also several youths, who had recently had the tufts of their hair tied together, who all dropped their hands against their sides, and stood in a respectful posture. Madame Wang then led Tai-yü by the hand through a corridor, running east and west, into what was dowager lady Chia's back-court. Forthwith they entered the door of the back suite of rooms, where stood, already in attendance, a large number of servants, who, when they saw madame Wang arrive, set to work setting the tables and chairs in order. Chia Chu's wife, née Li, served the eatables, while Hsi-feng placed the chopsticks, and madame Wang brought the soup in. Dowager lady Chia was seated all alone on the divan, in the main part of the apartment, on the two sides of which stood four vacant chairs. Hsi-feng at once drew Tai-yü, meaning to make her sit in the foremost chair on the left side, but Tai-yü steadily and concedingly declined. "Your aunts and sisters-in-law, standing on the right and left," dowager lady Chia smilingly explained, "won't have their repast in here, and as you're a guest, it's but proper that you should take that seat." Then alone it was that Tai-yü asked for permission to sit down, seating herself on the chair. Madame Wang likewise took a seat at old lady Chia's instance; and the three cousins, Ying Ch'un and the others, having craved for leave to sit down, at length came forward, and Ying Ch'un took the first chair on the right, T'an Ch'un the second, and Hsi Ch'un the second on the left. Waiting maids stood by holding in their hands, flips and finger-bowls and napkins, while Mrs. Li and lady Feng, the two of them, kept near the table advising them what to eat, and pressing them to help themselves. In the outer apartments, the married women and waiting-maids in attendance, were, it is true, very numerous; but not even so much as the sound of the cawing of a crow could be heard. The repast over, each one was presented by a waiting-maid, with tea in a small tea tray; but the Lin family had all along impressed upon the mind of their daughter that in order to show due regard to happiness, and to preserve good health, it was essential, after every meal, to wait a while, before drinking any tea, so that it should not do any harm to the intestines. When, therefore, Tai-yü perceived how many habits there were in this establishment unlike those which prevailed in her home, she too had no alternative but to conform herself to a certain extent with them. Upon taking over the cup of tea, servants came once more and presented finger-bowls for them to rinse their mouths, and Tai-yü also rinsed hers; and after they had all again finished washing their hands, tea was eventually served a second time, and this was, at length, the tea that was intended to be drunk. "You can all go," observed dowager lady Chia, "and let us alone to have a chat." Madame Wang rose as soon as she heard these words, and having made a few irrelevant remarks, she led the way and left the room along with the two ladies, Mrs. Li and lady Feng. Dowager lady Chia, having inquired of Tai-yü what books she was reading, "I have just begun reading the Four Books," Tai-yü replied. "What books are my cousins reading?" Tai-yü went on to ask. "Books, you say!" exclaimed dowager lady Chia; "why all they know are a few characters, that's all." The sentence was barely out of her lips, when a continuous sounding of footsteps was heard outside, and a waiting maid entered and announced that Pao-yü was coming. Tai-yü was speculating in her mind how it was that this Pao-yü had turned out such a good-for-nothing fellow, when he happened to walk in. He was, in fact, a young man of tender years, wearing on his head, to hold his hair together, a cap of gold of purplish tinge, inlaid with precious gems. Parallel with his eyebrows was attached a circlet, embroidered with gold, and representing two dragons snatching a pearl. He wore an archery-sleeved deep red jacket, with hundreds of butterflies worked in gold of two different shades, interspersed with flowers; and was girded with a sash of variegated silk, with clusters of designs, to which was attached long tassels; a kind of sash worn in the palace. Over all, he had a slate-blue fringed coat of Japanese brocaded satin, with eight bunches of flowers in relief; and wore a pair of light blue satin white-soled, half-dress court-shoes. His face was like the full moon at mid-autumn; his complexion, like morning flowers in spring; the hair along his temples, as if chiselled with a knife; his eyebrows, as if pencilled with ink; his nose like a suspended gallbladder (a well-cut and shapely nose); his eyes like vernal waves; his angry look even resembled a smile; his glance, even when stern, was full of sentiment. Round his neck he had a gold dragon necklet with a fringe; also a cord of variegated silk, to which was attached a piece of beautiful jade. As soon as Tai-yü became conscious of his presence, she was quite taken aback. "How very strange!" she was reflecting in her mind; "it would seem as if I had seen him somewhere or other, for his face appears extremely familiar to my eyes;" when she noticed Pao-yü face dowager lady Chia and make his obeisance. "Go and see your mother and then come back," remarked her venerable ladyship; and at once he turned round and quitted the room. On his return, he had already changed his hat and suit. All round his head, he had a fringe of short hair, plaited into small queues, and bound with red silk. The queues were gathered up at the crown, and all the hair, which had been allowed to grow since his birth, was plaited into a thick queue, which looked as black and as glossy as lacquer. Between the crown of the head and the extremity of the queue, hung a string of four large pearls, with pendants of gold, representing the eight precious things. On his person, he wore a long silvery-red coat, more or less old, bestrewn with embroidery of flowers. He had still round his neck the necklet, precious gem, amulet of Recorded Name, philacteries, and other ornaments. Below were partly visible a fir-cone coloured brocaded silk pair of trousers, socks spotted with black designs, with ornamented edges, and a pair of deep red, thick-soled shoes. (Got up as he was now,) his face displayed a still whiter appearance, as if painted, and his eyes as if they were set off with carnation. As he rolled his eyes, they brimmed with love. When he gave utterance to speech, he seemed to smile. But the chief natural pleasing feature was mainly centred in the curve of his eyebrows. The ten thousand and one fond sentiments, fostered by him during the whole of his existence, were all amassed in the corner of his eyes. His outward appearance may have been pleasing to the highest degree, but yet it was no easy matter to fathom what lay beneath it. There are a couple of roundelays, composed by a later poet, (after the excellent rhythm of the) Hsi Chiang Yueh, which depict Pao-yü in a most adequate manner. The roundelays run as follows: To gloom and passion prone, without a rhyme, Inane and madlike was he many a time, His outer self, forsooth, fine may have been, But one wild, howling waste his mind within: Addled his brain that nothing he could see; A dunce! to read essays so loth to be! Perverse in bearing, in temper wayward; For human censure he had no regard. When rich, wealth to enjoy he knew not how; When poor, to poverty he could not bow. Alas! what utter waste of lustrous grace! To state, to family what a disgrace! Of ne'er-do-wells below he was the prime, Unfilial like him none up to this time. Ye lads, pampered with sumptuous fare and dress, Beware! In this youth's footsteps do not press! But to proceed with our story. "You have gone and changed your clothes," observed dowager lady Chia, "before being introduced to the distant guest. Why don't you yet salute your cousin?" Pao-yü had long ago become aware of the presence of a most beautiful young lady, who, he readily concluded, must be no other than the daughter of his aunt Lin. He hastened to advance up to her, and make his bow; and after their introduction, he resumed his seat, whence he minutely scrutinised her features, (which he thought) so unlike those of all other girls. Her two arched eyebrows, thick as clustered smoke, bore a certain not very pronounced frowning wrinkle. She had a pair of eyes, which possessed a cheerful, and yet one would say, a sad expression, overflowing with sentiment. Her face showed the prints of sorrow stamped on her two dimpled cheeks. She was beautiful, but her whole frame was the prey of a hereditary disease. The tears in her eyes glistened like small specks. Her balmy breath was so gentle. She was as demure as a lovely flower reflected in the water. Her gait resembled a frail willow, agitated by the wind. Her heart, compared with that of Pi Kan, had one more aperture of intelligence; while her ailment exceeded (in intensity) by three degrees the ailment of Hsi-Tzu. Pao-yü, having concluded his scrutiny of her, put on a smile and said, "This cousin I have already seen in days gone by." "There you are again with your nonsense," exclaimed lady Chia, sneeringly; "how could you have seen her before?" "Though I may not have seen her, ere this," observed Pao-yü with a smirk, "yet when I look at her face, it seems so familiar, and to my mind, it would appear as if we had been old acquaintances; just as if, in fact, we were now meeting after a long separation." "That will do! that will do!" remarked dowager lady Chia; "such being the case, you will be the more intimate." Pao-yü, thereupon, went up to Tai-yü, and taking a seat next to her, continued to look at her again with all intentness for a good long while. "Have you read any books, cousin?" he asked. "I haven't as yet," replied Tai-yü, "read any books, as I have only been to school for a year; all I know are simply a few characters." "What is your worthy name, cousin?" Pao-yü went on to ask; whereupon Tai-yü speedily told him her name. "Your style?" inquired Pao-yü; to which question Tai-yü replied, "I have no style." "I'll give you a style," suggested Pao-yü smilingly; "won't the double style 'P'in P'in,' 'knitting brows,' do very well?" "From what part of the standard books does that come?" T'an Ch'un hastily interposed. "It is stated in the Thorough Research into the state of Creation from remote ages to the present day," Pao-yü went on to explain, "that, in the western quarter, there exists a stone, called Tai, (black,) which can be used, in lieu of ink, to blacken the eyebrows with. Besides the eyebrows of this cousin taper in a way, as if they were contracted, so that the selection of these two characters is most appropriate, isn't it?" "This is just another plagiarism, I fear," observed T'an Ch'un, with an ironic smirk. "Exclusive of the Four Books," Pao-yü remarked smilingly, "the majority of works are plagiarised; and is it only I, perchance, who plagiarise? Have you got any jade or not?" he went on to inquire, addressing Tai-yü, (to the discomfiture) of all who could not make out what he meant. "It's because he has a jade himself," Tai-yü forthwith reasoned within her mind, "that he asks me whether I have one or not.--No; I haven't one," she replied. "That jade of yours is besides a rare object, and how could every one have one?" As soon as Pao-yü heard this remark, he at once burst out in a fit of his raving complaint, and unclasping the gem, he dashed it disdainfully on the floor. "Rare object, indeed!" he shouted, as he heaped invective on it; "it has no idea how to discriminate the excellent from the mean, among human beings; and do tell me, has it any perception or not? I too can do without this rubbish!" All those, who stood below, were startled; and in a body they pressed forward, vying with each other as to who should pick up the gem. Dowager lady Chia was so distressed that she clasped Pao-yü in her embrace. "You child of wrath," she exclaimed. "When you get into a passion, it's easy enough for you to beat and abuse people; but what makes you fling away that stem of life?" Pao-yü's face was covered with the traces of tears. "All my cousins here, senior as well as junior," he rejoined, as he sobbed, "have no gem, and if it's only I to have one, there's no fun in it, I maintain! and now comes this angelic sort of cousin, and she too has none, so that it's clear enough that it is no profitable thing." Dowager lady Chia hastened to coax him. "This cousin of yours," she explained, "would, under former circumstances, have come here with a jade; and it's because your aunt felt unable, as she lay on her death-bed, to reconcile herself to the separation from your cousin, that in the absence of any remedy, she forthwith took the gem belonging to her (daughter), along with her (in the grave); so that, in the first place, by the fulfilment of the rites of burying the living with the dead might be accomplished the filial piety of your cousin; and in the second place, that the spirit of your aunt might also, for the time being, use it to gratify the wish of gazing on your cousin. That's why she simply told you that she had no jade; for she couldn't very well have had any desire to give vent to self-praise. Now, how can you ever compare yourself with her? and don't you yet carefully and circumspectly put it on? Mind, your mother may come to know what you have done!" As she uttered these words, she speedily took the jade over from the hand of the waiting-maid, and she herself fastened it on for him. When Pao-yü heard this explanation, he indulged in reflection, but could not even then advance any further arguments. A nurse came at the moment and inquired about Tai-yü's quarters, and dowager lady Chia at once added, "Shift Pao-yü along with me, into the warm room of my suite of apartments, and put your mistress, Miss Lin, temporarily in the green gauze house; and when the rest of the winter is over, and repairs are taken in hand in spring in their rooms, an additional wing can be put up for her to take up her quarters in." "My dear ancestor," ventured Pao-yü; "the bed I occupy outside the green gauze house is very comfortable; and what need is there again for me to leave it and come and disturb your old ladyship's peace and quiet?" "Well, all right," observed dowager lady Chia, after some consideration; "but let each one of you have a nurse, as well as a waiting-maid to attend on you; the other servants can remain in the outside rooms and keep night watch and be ready to answer any call." At an early hour, besides, Hsi-feng had sent a servant round with a grey flowered curtain, embroidered coverlets and satin quilts and other such articles. Tai-yü had brought along with her only two servants; the one was her own nurse, dame Wang, and the other was a young waiting-maid of sixteen, whose name was called Hsüeh Yen. Dowager lady Chia, perceiving that Hsüeh Yen was too youthful and quite a child in her manner, while nurse Wang was, on the other hand, too aged, conjectured that Tai-yü would, in all her wants, not have things as she liked, so she detached two waiting-maids, who were her own personal attendants, named Tzu Chüan and Ying Ko, and attached them to Tai-yü's service. Just as had Ying Ch'un and the other girls, each one of whom had besides the wet nurses of their youth, four other nurses to advise and direct them, and exclusive of two personal maids to look after their dress and toilette, four or five additional young maids to do the washing and sweeping of the rooms and the running about backwards and forwards on errands. Nurse Wang, Tzu Chüan and other girls entered at once upon their attendance on Tai-yü in the green gauze rooms, while Pao-yü's wet-nurse, dame Li, together with an elderly waiting-maid, called Hsi Jen, were on duty in the room with the large bed. This Hsi Jen had also been, originally, one of dowager lady Chia's servant-girls. Her name was in days gone by, Chen Chu. As her venerable ladyship, in her tender love for Pao-yü, had feared that Pao-yü's servant girls were not equal to their duties, she readily handed her to Pao-yü, as she had hitherto had experience of how sincere and considerate she was at heart. Pao-yü, knowing that her surname was at one time Hua, and having once seen in some verses of an ancient poet, the line "the fragrance of flowers wafts itself into man," lost no time in explaining the fact to dowager lady Chia, who at once changed her name into Hsi Jen. This Hsi Jen had several simple traits. While in attendance upon dowager lady Chia, in her heart and her eyes there was no one but her venerable ladyship, and her alone; and now in her attendance upon Pao-yü, her heart and her eyes were again full of Pao-yü, and him alone. But as Pao-yü was of a perverse temperament and did not heed her repeated injunctions, she felt at heart exceedingly grieved. At night, after nurse Li had fallen asleep, seeing that in the inner chambers, Tai-yü, Ying Ko and the others had not as yet retired to rest, she disrobed herself, and with gentle step walked in. "How is it, miss," she inquired smiling, "that you have not turned in as yet?" Tai-yü at once put on a smile. "Sit down, sister," she rejoined, pressing her to take a seat. Hsi Jen sat on the edge of the bed. "Miss Lin," interposed Ying Ko smirkingly, "has been here in an awful state of mind! She has cried so to herself, that her eyes were flooded, as soon as she dried her tears. 'It's only to-day that I've come,' she said, 'and I've already been the cause of the outbreak of your young master's failing. Now had he broken that jade, as he hurled it on the ground, wouldn't it have been my fault? Hence it was that she was so wounded at heart, that I had all the trouble in the world, before I could appease her." "Desist at once, Miss! Don't go on like this," Hsi Jen advised her; "there will, I fear, in the future, happen things far more strange and ridiculous than this; and if you allow yourself to be wounded and affected to such a degree by a conduct such as his, you will, I apprehend, suffer endless wounds and anguish; so be quick and dispel this over-sensitive nature!" "What you sisters advise me," replied Tai-yü, "I shall bear in mind, and it will be all right." They had another chat, which lasted for some time, before they at length retired to rest for the night. The next day, (she and her cousins) got up at an early hour and went over to pay their respects to dowager lady Chia, after which upon coming to madame Wang's apartments, they happened to find madame Wang and Hsi-feng together, opening the letters which had arrived from Chin Ling. There were also in the room two married women, who had been sent from madame Wang's elder brother's wife's house to deliver a message. Tai-yü was, it is true, not aware of what was up, but T'an Ch'un and the others knew that they were discussing the son of her mother's sister, married in the Hsüeh family, in the city of Chin Ling, a cousin of theirs, Hsüeh P'an, who relying upon his wealth and influence had, by assaulting a man, committed homicide, and who was now to be tried in the court of the Ying T'ien Prefecture. Her maternal uncle, Wang Tzu-t'eng, had now, on the receipt of the tidings, despatched messengers to bring over the news to the Chia family. But the next chapter will explain what was the ultimate issue of the wish entertained in this mansion to send for the Hsüeh family to come to the capital. CHAPTER IV. An ill-fated girl happens to meet an ill-fated young man. The Hu Lu Bonze adjudicates the Hu Lu case. Tai-yü, for we shall now return to our story, having come, along with her cousin to madame Wang's apartments, found madame Wang discussing certain domestic occurrences with the messengers, who had arrived from her elder brother's wife's home, and conversing also about the case of homicide, in which the family of her mother's sister had become involved, and other such relevant topics. Perceiving how pressing and perplexing were the matters in which madame Wang was engaged, the young ladies promptly left her apartments, and came over to the rooms of their widow sister-in-law, Mrs. Li. This Mrs. Li had originally been the spouse of Chia Chu. Although Chu had died at an early age, he had the good fortune of leaving behind him a son, to whom the name of Chia Lan was given. He was, at this period, just in his fifth year, and had already entered school, and applied himself to books. This Mrs. Li was also the daughter of an official of note in Chin Ling. Her father's name was Li Shou-chung, who had, at one time, been Imperial Libationer. Among his kindred, men as well as women had all devoted themselves to poetry and letters; but ever since Li Shou-chung continued the line of succession, he readily asserted that the absence of literary attainments in his daughter was indeed a virtue, so that it soon came about that she did not apply herself in real earnest to learning; with the result that all she studied were some parts of the "Four Books for women," and the "Memoirs of excellent women," that all she read did not extend beyond a limited number of characters, and that all she committed to memory were the examples of these few worthy female characters of dynasties of yore; while she attached special importance to spinning and female handiwork. To this reason is to be assigned the name selected for her, of Li Wan (Li, the weaver), and the style of Kung Ts'ai (Palace Sempstress). Hence it was that, though this Li Wan still continued, after the loss of her mate, while she was as yet in the spring of her life, to live amidst affluence and luxury, she nevertheless resembled in every respect a block of rotten wood or dead ashes. She had no inclination whatsoever to inquire after anything or to listen to anything; while her sole and exclusive thought was to wait upon her relatives and educate her son; and, in addition to this, to teach her young sisters-in-law to do needlework and to read aloud. Tai-yü was, it is true, at this period living as a guest in the Chia mansion, where she certainly had the several young ladies to associate with her, but, outside her aged father, (she thought) there was really no need for her to extend affection to any of the rest. But we will now speak of Chia Yü-ts'un. Having obtained the appointment of Prefect of Ying T'ien, he had no sooner arrived at his post than a charge of manslaughter was laid before his court. This had arisen from some rivalry between two parties in the purchase of a slave-girl, either of whom would not yield his right; with the result that a serious assault occurred, which ended in homicide. Yü-ts'un had, with all promptitude, the servants of the plaintiffs brought before him, and subjected them to an examination. "The victim of the assault," the plaintiffs deposed, "was your servants' master. Having on a certain day, purchased a servant-girl, she unexpectedly turned out to be a girl who had been carried away and sold by a kidnapper. This kidnapper had, first of all, got hold of our family's money, and our master had given out that he would on the third day, which was a propitious day, take her over into the house, but this kidnapper stealthily sold her over again to the Hsüeh family. When we came to know of this, we went in search of the seller to lay hold of him, and bring back the girl by force. But the Hsüeh party has been all along _the_ bully of Chin Ling, full of confidence in his wealth, full of presumption on account of his prestige; and his arrogant menials in a body seized our master and beat him to death. The murderous master and his crew have all long ago made good their escape, leaving no trace behind them, while there only remain several parties not concerned in the affair. Your servants have for a whole year lodged complaints, but there has been no one to do our cause justice, and we therefore implore your Lordship to have the bloodstained criminals arrested, and thus conduce to the maintenance of humanity and benevolence; and the living, as well as the dead, will feel boundless gratitude for this heavenly bounty." When Yü-ts'un heard their appeal, he flew into a fiery rage. "What!" he exclaimed. "How could a case of such gravity have taken place as the murder of a man, and the culprits have been allowed to run away scot-free, without being arrested? Issue warrants, and despatch constables to at once lay hold of the relatives of the bloodstained criminals and bring them to be examined by means of torture." Thereupon he espied a Retainer, who was standing by the judgment-table, wink at him, signifying that he should not issue the warrants. Yü-t'sun gave way to secret suspicion, and felt compelled to desist. Withdrawing from the Court-room, he retired into a private chamber, from whence he dismissed his followers, only keeping this single Retainer to wait upon him. The Retainer speedily advanced and paid his obeisance. "Your worship," he said smiling, "has persistently been rising in official honours, and increasing in wealth so that, in the course of about eight or nine years, you have forgotten me." "Your face is, however, extremely familiar," observed Yü-ts'un, "but I cannot, for the moment, recall who you are." "Honourable people forget many things," remarked the Retainer, as he smiled. "What! Have you even forgotten the place where you started in life? and do you not remember what occurred, in years gone by, in the Hu Lu Temple?" Yü-ts'un was filled with extreme astonishment; and past events then began to dawn upon him. The fact is that this Retainer had been at one time a young priest in the Hu Lu temple; but as, after its destruction by fire, he had no place to rest his frame, he remembered how light and easy was, after all, this kind of occupation, and being unable to reconcile himself to the solitude and quiet of a temple, he accordingly availed himself of his years, which were as yet few, to let his hair grow, and become a retainer. Yü-ts'un had had no idea that it was he. Hastily taking his hand in his, he smilingly observed, "You are, indeed, an old acquaintance!" and then pressed him to take a seat, so as to have a chat with more ease, but the Retainer would not presume to sit down. "Friendships," Yü-ts'un remarked, putting on a smiling expression, "contracted in poor circumstances should not be forgotten! This is a private room; so that if you sat down, what would it matter?" The Retainer thereupon craved permission to take a seat, and sat down gingerly, all awry. "Why did you, a short while back," Yü-ts'un inquired, "not allow me to issue the warrants?" "Your illustrious office," replied the Retainer, "has brought your worship here, and is it likely you have not transcribed some philactery of your post in this province!" "What is an office-philactery?" asked Yü-ts'un with alacrity. "Now-a-days," explained the Retainer, "those who become local officers provide themselves invariably with a secret list, in which are entered the names and surnames of the most influential and affluent gentry of note in the province. This is in vogue in every province. Should inadvertently, at any moment, one give umbrage to persons of this status, why, not only office, but I fear even one's life, it would be difficult to preserve. That's why these lists are called office-philacteries. This Hsüeh family, just a while back spoken of, how could your worship presume to provoke? This case in question affords no difficulties whatever in the way of a settlement; but the prefects, who have held office before you, have all, by doing violence to the feelings and good name of these people, come to the end they did." As he uttered these words, he produced, from inside a purse which he had handy, a transcribed office-philactery, which he handed over to Yü-ts'un; who upon perusal, found it full of trite and unpolished expressions of public opinion, with regard to the leading clans and notable official families in that particular district. They ran as follows: The "Chia" family is not "chia," a myth; white jade form the Halls; gold compose their horses! The "A Fang" Palace is three hundred li in extent, but is no fit residence for a "Shih" of Chin Ling. The eastern seas lack white jade beds, and the "Lung Wang," king of the Dragons, has come to ask for one of the Chin Ling Wang, (Mr. Wang of Chin Ling.) In a plenteous year, snow, (Hsüeh,) is very plentiful; their pearls and gems are like sand, their gold like iron. Scarcely had Yü-ts'un done reading, when suddenly was heard the announcement, communicated by the beating of a gong, that Mr. Wang had come to pay his respects. Yü-ts'un hastily adjusted his official clothes and hat, and went out of the room to greet and receive the visitor. Returning after a short while he proceeded to question the Retainer (about what he had been perusing.) "These four families," explained the Retainer, "are all interlaced by ties of relationship, so that if you offend one, you offend all; if you honour one, you honour all. For support and protection, they all have those to take care of their interests! Now this Hsüeh, who is charged with homicide, is indeed the Hsüeh implied by 'in a plenteous year, (Hsüeh,) snow, is very plentiful.' In fact, not only has he these three families to rely upon, but his (father's) old friends, and his own relatives and friends are both to be found in the capital, as well as abroad in the provinces; and they are, what is more, not few in number. Who is it then that your Worship purposes having arrested?" When Yü-ts'un had heard these remarks, he forthwith put on a smile and inquired of the Retainer, "If what you say be true, how is then this lawsuit to be settled? Are you also perchance well aware of the place of retreat of this homicide?" "I don't deceive your Worship," the Retainer ventured smiling, "when I say that not only do I know the hiding-place of this homicide, but that I also am acquainted with the man who kidnapped and sold the girl; I likewise knew full well the poor devil and buyer, now deceased. But wait, and I'll tell your worship all, with full details. This person, who succumbed to the assault, was the son of a minor gentry. His name was Feng Yüan. His father and mother are both deceased, and he has likewise no brothers. He looked after some scanty property in order to eke out a living. His age was eighteen or nineteen; and he had a strong penchant for men's, and not much for women's society. But this was too the retribution (for sins committed) in a previous existence! for coming, by a strange coincidence, in the way of this kidnapper, who was selling the maid, he straightway at a glance fell in love with this girl, and made up his mind to purchase her and make her his second wife; entering an oath not to associate with any male friends, nor even to marry another girl. And so much in earnest was he in this matter that he had to wait until after the third day before she could enter his household (so as to make the necessary preparations for the marriage). But who would have foreseen the issue? This kidnapper quietly disposed of her again by sale to the Hsüeh family; his intention being to pocket the price-money from both parties, and effect his escape. Contrary to his calculations, he couldn't after all run away in time, and the two buyers laid hold of him and beat him, till he was half dead; but neither of them would take his coin back, each insisting upon the possession of the girl. But do you think that young gentleman, Mr. Hsüeh, would yield his claim to her person? Why, he at once summoned his servants and bade them have recourse to force; and, taking this young man Feng, they assailed him till they made mincemeat of him. He was then carried back to his home, where he finally died after the expiry of three days. This young Mr. Hsüeh had previously chosen a day, on which he meant to set out for the capital, and though he had beaten the young man Feng to death, and carried off the girl, he nevertheless behaved in the manner of a man who had had no concern in the affair. And all he gave his mind to was to take his family and go along on his way; but not in any wise in order to evade (the consequences) of this (occurrence). This case of homicide, (he looked upon) as a most trivial and insignificant matter, which, (he thought), his brother and servants, who were on the spot, would be enough to settle. But, however, enough of this person. Now does your worship know who this girl is who was sold?" "How could I possibly know?" answered Yü-ts'un. "And yet," remarked the Retainer, as he laughed coldly, "this is a person to whom you are indebted for great obligations; for she is no one else than the daughter of Mr. Chen, who lived next door to the Hu Lu temple. Her infant name is 'Ying Lien.'" "What! is it really she?" exclaimed Yü-ts'un full of surprise. "I heard that she had been kidnapped, ever since she was five years old; but has she only been sold recently?" "Kidnappers of this kind," continued the Retainer, "only abduct infant girls, whom they bring up till they reach the age of twelve or thirteen, when they take them into strange districts and dispose of them through their agents. In days gone by, we used daily to coax this girl, Ying Lien, to romp with us, so that we got to be exceedingly friendly. Hence it is that though, with the lapse of seven or eight years, her mien has assumed a more surpassingly lovely appearance, her general features have, on the other hand, undergone no change; and this is why I can recognise her. Besides, in the centre of her two eyebrows, she had a spot, of the size of a grain of rice, of carnation colour, which she has had ever since she was born into the world. This kidnapper, it also happened, rented my house to live in; and on a certain day, on which the kidnapper was not at home, I even set her a few questions. She said, 'that the kidnapper had so beaten her, that she felt intimidated, and couldn't on any account, venture to speak out; simply averring that the kidnapper was her own father, and that, as he had no funds to repay his debts, he had consequently disposed of her by sale!' I tried time after time to induce her to answer me, but she again gave way to tears and added no more than: 'I don't really remember anything of my youth.' Of this, anyhow, there can be no doubt; on a certain day the young man Feng and the kidnapper met, said the money was paid down; but as the kidnapper happened to be intoxicated, Ying Lien exclaimed, as she sighed: 'My punishment has this day been consummated!' Later on again, when she heard that young Feng would, after three days, have her taken over to his house, she once more underwent a change and put on such a sorrowful look that, unable to brook the sight of it, I waited till the kidnapper went out, when I again told my wife to go and cheer her by representing to her that this Mr. Feng's fixed purpose to wait for a propitious day, on which to come and take her over, was ample proof that he would not look upon her as a servant-girl. 'Furthermore,' (explained my wife to her), 'he is a sort of person exceedingly given to fast habits, and has at home ample means to live upon, so that if, besides, with his extreme aversion to women, he actually purchases you now, at a fancy price, you should be able to guess the issue, without any explanation. You have to bear suspense only for two or three days, and what need is there to be sorrowful and dejected?' After these assurances, she became somewhat composed, flattering herself that she would from henceforth have a home of her own. "But who would believe that the world is but full of disappointments! On the succeeding day, it came about that the kidnapper again sold her to the Hsüeh family! Had he disposed of her to any other party, no harm would anyhow have resulted; but this young gentleman Hsüeh, who is nicknamed by all, 'the Foolish and overbearing Prince,' is the most perverse and passionate being in the whole world. What is more, he throws money away as if it were dust. The day on which he gave the thrashing with blows like falling leaves and flowing water, he dragged (_lit_. pull alive, drag dead) Ying Lien away more dead than alive, by sheer force, and no one, even up to this date, is aware whether she be among the dead or the living. This young Feng had a spell of empty happiness; for (not only) was his wish not fulfilled, but on the contrary he spent money and lost his life; and was not this a lamentable case?" When Yü-ts'un heard this account he also heaved a sigh. "This was indeed," he observed, "a retribution in store for them! Their encounter was likewise not accidental; for had it been, how was it that this Feng Yüan took a fancy to Ying Lien? "This Ying Lien had, during all these years, to endure much harsh treatment from the hands of the kidnapper, and had, at length, obtained the means of escape; and being besides full of warm feeling, had he actually made her his wife, and had they come together, the event would certainly have been happy; but, as luck would have it, there occurred again this contretemps. "This Hsüeh is, it is true, more laden with riches and honours than Feng was, but when we bear in mind what kind of man he is he certainly, with his large bevy of handmaids, and his licentious and inordinate habits, cannot ever be held equal to Feng Yüan, who had set his heart upon one person! This may appositely be termed a fantastic sentimental destiny, which, by a strange coincidence, befell a couple consisting of an ill-fated young fellow and girl! But why discuss third parties? The only thing now is how to decide this case, so as to put things right." "Your worship," remarked the Retainer smiling, "displayed, in years gone by, such great intelligence and decision, and how is it that today you, on the contrary, become a person without any resources! Your servant has heard that the promotion of your worship to fill up this office is due to the exertions of the Chia and Wang families; and as this Hsüeh P'an is a relative of the Chia mansion, why doesn't your worship take your craft along with the stream, and bring, by the performance of a kindness, this case to an issue, so that you may again in days to come, be able to go and face the two Dukes Chia and Wang?" "What you suggest," replied Yü-ts'un, "is, of course, right enough; but this case involves a human life, and honoured as I have been, by His Majesty the Emperor, by a restoration to office, and selection to an appointment, how can I at the very moment, when I may strain all my energies to show my gratitude, by reason of a private consideration, set the laws at nought? This is a thing which I really haven't the courage to do." "What your worship says is naturally right and proper," remarked the Retainer at these words, smiling sarcastically, "but at the present stage of the world, such things cannot be done. Haven't you heard the saying of a man of old to the effect that great men take action suitable to the times. 'He who presses,' he adds, 'towards what is auspicious and avoids what is inauspicious is a perfect man.' From what your worship says, not only you couldn't, by any display of zeal, repay your obligation to His Majesty, but, what is more, your own life you will find it difficult to preserve. There are still three more considerations necessary to insure a safe settlement." Yü-ts'un drooped his head for a considerable time. "What is there in your idea to be done?" he at length inquired. "Your servant," responded the Retainer, "has already devised a most excellent plan. It's this: To-morrow, when your Lordship sits in court, you should, merely for form's sake, make much ado, by despatching letters and issuing warrants for the arrest of the culprits. The murderer will naturally not be forthcoming; and as the plaintiffs will be strong in their displeasure, you will of course have some members of the clan of the Hsüeh family, together with a few servants and others, taken into custody, and examined under torture, when your servant will be behind the scenes to bring matters to a settlement, by bidding them report that the victim had succumbed to a sudden ailment, and by urging the whole number of the kindred, as well as the headmen of the place, to hand in a declaration to that effect. Your Worship can aver that you understand perfectly how to write charms in dust, and conjure the spirit; having had an altar, covered with dust, placed in the court, you should bid the military and people to come and look on to their heart's content. Your Worship can give out that the divining spirit has declared: 'that the deceased, Feng Yüan, and Hsüeh P'an had been enemies in a former life, that having now met in the narrow road, their destinies were consummated; that Hsüeh P'an has, by this time, contracted some indescribable disease and perished from the effects of the persecution of the spirit of Feng.' That as the calamity had originated entirely from the action of the kidnapper, exclusive of dealing with the kidnapper according to law, the rest need not be interfered with, and so on. Your servant will be in the background to speak to the kidnapper and urge him to make a full confession; and when people find that the response of the divining spirit harmonizes with the statements of the kidnapper, they will, as a matter of course, entertain no suspicion. "The Hsüeh family have plenty of money, so that if your Worship adjudicates that they should pay five hundred, they can afford it, or one thousand will also be within their means; and this sum can be handed to the Feng family to meet the outlay of burning incense and burial expenses. The Feng family are, besides, people of not much consequence, and (the fuss made by them) being simply for money, they too will, when they have got the cash in hand, have nothing more to say. But may it please your worship to consider carefully this plan and see what you think of it?" "It isn't a safe course! It isn't a safe course!" Yü-ts'un observed as he smiled. "Let me further think and deliberate; and possibly by succeeding in suppressing public criticism, the matter might also be settled." These two closed their consultation by a fixed determination, and the next day, when he sat in judgment, he marked off a whole company of the plaintiffs as well as of the accused, as were mentioned by name, and had them brought before him. Yü-ts'un examined them with additional minuteness, and discovered in point of fact, that the inmates of the Feng family were extremely few, that they merely relied upon this charge with the idea of obtaining some compensation for joss-sticks and burials; and that the Hsüeh family, presuming on their prestige and confident of patronage, had been obstinate in the refusal to make any mutual concession, with the result that confusion had supervened, and that no decision had been arrived at. Following readily the bent of his feelings, Yü-ts'un disregarded the laws, and adjudicated this suit in a random way; and as the Feng family came in for a considerable sum, with which to meet the expense for incense and the funeral, they had, after all, not very much to say (in the way of objections.) With all despatch, Yü-ts'un wrote and forwarded two letters, one to Chia Cheng, and the other to Wang Tzu-t'eng, at that time commander-in-chief of a Metropolitan Division, simply informing them: that the case, in which their worthy nephew was concerned, had come to a close, and that there was no need for them to give way to any extreme solicitude. This case had been settled through the exclusive action of the young priest of the Hu Lu temple, now an official Retainer; and Yü-ts'un, apprehending, on the other hand, lest he might in the presence of others, divulge the circumstances connected with the days gone by, when he was in a state of penury, naturally felt very unhappy in his mind. But at a later period, he succeeded, by ultimately finding in him some shortcoming, and deporting him to a far-away place, in setting his fears at rest. But we will put Yü-ts'un on one side, and refer to the young man Hsüeh, who purchased Ying Lien, and assaulted Feng Yuan to death. He too was a native of Chin Ling and belonged to a family literary during successive generations; but this young Hsüeh had recently, when of tender age, lost his father, and his widowed mother out of pity for his being the only male issue and a fatherless child, could not help doating on him and indulging him to such a degree, that when he, in course of time, grew up to years of manhood, he was good for nothing. In their home, furthermore, was the wealth of a millionaire, and they were, at this time, in receipt of an income from His Majesty's privy purse, for the purvey of various articles. This young Hsüeh went at school under the name of P'an. His style was Wen Ch'i. His natural habits were extravagant; his language haughty and supercilious. He had, of course, also been to school, but all he knew was a limited number of characters, and those not well. The whole day long, his sole delight was in cock-fighting and horse-racing, rambling over hills and doing the sights. Though a Purveyor, by Imperial appointment, he had not the least idea of anything relating to matters of business or of the world. All he was good for was: to take advantage of the friendships enjoyed by his grandfather in days of old, to present himself at the Board of Revenue to perfunctorily sign his name and to draw the allowance and rations; while the rest of his affairs he, needless to say, left his partners and old servants of the family to manage for him. His widowed mother, a Miss Wang, was the youngest sister of Wang Tzu-t'eng, whose present office was that of Commander-in-Chief of a Metropolitan Division; and was, with Madame Wang, the spouse of Chia Cheng, of the Jung Kuo Mansion, sisters born of one mother. She was, in this year, more or less forty years of age and had only one son: this Hsüeh P'an. She also had a daughter, who was two years younger than Hsüeh P'an, and whose infant name was Pao Ch'ai. She was beautiful in appearance, and elegant and refined in deportment. In days gone by, when her father lived, he was extremely fond of this girl, and had her read books and study characters, so that, as compared with her brother, she was actually a hundred times his superior. Having become aware, ever since her father's death, that her brother could not appease the anguish of her mother's heart, she at once dispelled all thoughts of books, and gave her sole mind to needlework, to the menage and other such concerns, so as to be able to participate in her mother's sorrow, and to bear the fatigue in lieu of her. As of late the Emperor on the Throne held learning and propriety in high esteem, His Majesty called together and singled out talent and ability, upon which he deigned to display exceptional grace and favour. Besides the number called forth from private life and chosen as Imperial secondary wives, the daughters of families of hereditary official status and renown were without exception, reported by name to the authorities, and communicated to the Board, in anticipation of the selection for maids in waiting to the Imperial Princesses and daughters of Imperial Princes in their studies, and for filling up the offices of persons of eminence, to urge them to become excellent. Ever since the death of Hsüeh P'an's father, the various assistants, managers and partners, and other employes in the respective provinces, perceiving how youthful Hsüeh P'an was in years, and how much he lacked worldly experience, readily availed themselves of the time to begin swindling and defrauding. The business, carried on in various different places in the capital, gradually also began to fall off and to show a deficit. Hsüeh P'an had all along heard that the capital was the _one_ place for gaieties, and was just entertaining the idea of going on a visit, when he eagerly jumped at the opportunity (that presented itself,) first of all to escort his sister, who was going to wait for the selection, in the second place to see his relatives, and in the third to enter personally the capital, (professedly) to settle up long-standing accounts, and to make arrangements for new outlays, but, in reality, with the sole purpose of seeing the life and splendour of the metropolis. He therefore, had, at an early period, got ready his baggage and small luggage, as well as the presents for relatives and friends, things of every description of local production, presents in acknowledgment of favours received, and other such effects, and he was about to choose a day to start on his journey when unexpectedly he came in the way of the kidnapper who offered Ying Lien for sale. As soon as Hsüeh P'an saw how _distinguée_ Ying Lien was in her appearance, he formed the resolution of buying her; and when he encountered Feng Yüan, come with the object of depriving him of her, he in the assurance of superiority, called his sturdy menials together, who set upon Feng Yüan and beat him to death. Forthwith collecting all the affairs of the household, and entrusting them one by one to the charge of some members of the clan and several elderly servants of the family, he promptly took his mother, sister and others and after all started on his distant journey, while the charge of homicide he, however, treated as child's play, flattering himself that if he spent a few filthy pieces of money, there was no doubt as to its settlement. He had been on his journey how many days, he had not reckoned, when, on a certain day, as they were about to enter the capital, he furthermore heard that his maternal uncle, Wang Tzu-t'eng, had been raised to the rank of Supreme Governor of nine provinces, and had been honoured with an Imperial command to leave the capital and inspect the frontiers. Hsüeh P'an was at heart secretly elated. "I was just lamenting," he thought, "that on my visit to the capital, I would have my maternal uncle to exercise control over me, and that I wouldn't be able to gambol and frisk to my heart's content, but now that he is leaving the capital, on promotion, it's evident that Heaven accomplishes man's wishes." As he consequently held consultation with his mother; "Though we have," he argued, "several houses of our own in the capital, yet for these last ten years or so, there has been no one to live in them, and the people charged with the looking after them must unavoidably have stealthily rented them to some one or other. It's therefore needful to let servants go ahead to sweep and get the place in proper order, before we can very well go ourselves." "What need is there to go to such trouble?" retorted his mother; "the main object of our present visit to the capital is first of all to pay our respects to our relatives and friends; and it is, either at your elder uncle's, my brother's place, or at your other uncle's, my sister's husband's home, both of which families' houses are extremely spacious, that we can put up provisionally, and by and bye, at our ease, we can send servants to make our house tidy. Now won't this be a considerable saving of trouble?" "My uncle, your brother," suggested Hsüeh P'an, "has just been raised to an appointment in an outside province, so that, of course, in his house, things must be topsy-turvey, on account of his departure; and should we betake ourselves, like a hive of bees and a long trail, to him for shelter; won't we appear very inconsiderate?" "Your uncle," remarked his mother, "is, it is true, going on promotion, but there's besides the house of your aunt, my sister. What is more, during these last few years from both your uncle's and aunt's have, time after time, been sent messages, and letters forwarded, asking us to come over; and now that we've come, is it likely, though your uncle is busy with his preparations to start on his journey, that your aunt of the Chia family won't do all she can to press us to stay? Besides, were we to have our house got ready in a scramble, won't it make people think it strange? I however know your idea very well that were we kept to stay at your uncle's and aunt's, you won't escape being under strict restraint, unlike what would be the case were we to live in our own house, as you would be free then to act as you please! Such being the case, go, on your own account, and choose some place to take up your quarters in, while I myself, who have been separated from your aunt and cousins for these several years, would however like to stay with them for a few days; and I'll go along with your sister and look up your aunt at her home. What do you say; will this suit you or not?" Hsüeh P'an, upon hearing his mother speak in this strain, knew well enough that he could not bring her round from her determination; and he had no help but to issue the necessary directions to the servants to make straight for the Jung Kuo mansion. Madame Wang had by this time already come to know that in the lawsuit, in which Hsüeh P'an was concerned, Chia Yü-ts'un had fortunately intervened and lent his good offices, and was at length more composed in her mind. But when she again saw that her eldest brother had been advanced to a post on the frontier, she was just deploring that, deprived of the intercourse of the relatives of her mother's family, how doubly lonely she would feel; when, after the lapse of a few days, some one of the household brought the unexpected announcement that "our lady, your sister, has, with the young gentleman, the young lady and her whole household, entered the capital and have dismounted from their vehicles outside the main entrance." This news so delighted madame Wang that she rushed out, with a few attendants, to greet them in the large Entrance Hall, and brought Mrs. Hsüeh and the others into her house. The two sisters were now reunited, at an advanced period of their lives, so that mixed feelings of sorrow and joy thronged together, but on these it is, of course, needless to dilate. After conversing for a time on what had occurred, subsequent to their separation, madame Wang took them to pay their obeisance to dowager lady Chia. They then handed over the various kinds of presents and indigenous articles, and after the whole family had been introduced, a banquet was also spread to greet the guests. Hsüeh P'an, having paid his respects to Chia Cheng and Chia Lien, was likewise taken to see Chia She, Chia Chen and the other members. Chia Cheng sent a messenger to tell madame Wang that "'aunt' Hsüeh had already seen many springs and autumns, while their nephew was of tender age, with no experience, so that there was every fear, were he to live outside, that something would again take place. In the South-east corner of our compound," (he sent word,) "there are in the Pear Fragrance Court, over ten apartments, all of which are vacant and lying idle; and were we to tell the servants to sweep them, and invite 'aunt' Hsüeh and the young gentleman and lady to take up their quarters there, it would be an extremely wise thing." Madame Wang had in fact been entertaining the wish to keep them to live with them, when dowager lady Chia also sent some one to say that, "Mrs. Hsüeh should be asked to put up in the mansion in order that a greater friendliness should exist between them all." Mrs. Hsüeh herself had all along been desirous to live in one place with her relatives, so as to be able to keep a certain check over her son, fearing that, if they lived in a separate house outside, the natural bent of his habits would run riot, and that some calamity would be brought on; and she therefore, there and then, expressed her sense of appreciation, and accepted the invitation. She further privately told madame Wang in clear terms, that every kind of daily expense and general contribution would have to be entirely avoided and withdrawn as that would be the only thing to justify her to make any protracted stay. And madame Wang aware that she had, in her home, no difficulty in this line, promptly in fact complied with her wishes. From this date it was that "aunt" Hsüeh and her children took up their quarters in the Pear Fragrance Court. This Court of Pear Fragrance had, we must explain, been at one time used as a place for the quiet retirement of the Duke Jung in his advanced years. It was on a small scale, but ingeniously laid out. There were, at least, over ten structures. The front halls and the back houses were all in perfect style. There was a separate door giving on to the street, and the people of the household of Hsüeh P'an used this door to go in and out. At the south-west quarter, there was also a side door, which communicated with a narrow roadway. Beyond this narrow road, was the eastern court of madame Wang's principal apartment; so that every day, either after her repast, or in the evening, Mrs. Hsüeh would readily come over and converse, on one thing and another, with dowager lady Chia, or have a chat with madame Wang; while Pao-ch'ai came together, day after day, with Tai yü, Ying-ch'un, her sisters and the other girls, either to read, to play chess, or to do needlework, and the pleasure which they derived was indeed perfect. Hsüeh P'an however had all along from the first instance, been loth to live in the Chia mansion, as he dreaded that with the discipline enforced by his uncle, he would not be able to be his own master; but his mother had made up her mind so positively to remain there, and what was more, every one in the Chia mansion was most pressing in their efforts to keep them, that there was no alternative for him but to take up his quarters temporarily there, while he at the same time directed servants to go and sweep the apartments of their own house, with a view that they should move into them when they were ready. But, contrary to expectation, after they had been in their quarters for not over a month, Hsüeh P'an came to be on intimate relations with all the young men among the kindred of the Chia mansion, the half of whom were extravagant in their habits, so that great was, of course, his delight to frequent them. To-day, they would come together to drink wine; the next day to look at flowers. They even assembled to gamble, to dissipate and to go everywhere and anywhere; leading, with all their enticements, Hsüeh P'an so far astray, that he became far worse, by a hundred times, than he was hitherto. Although it must be conceded that Chia Cheng was in the education of his children quite correct, and in the control of his family quite systematic, yet in the first place, the clan was so large and the members so numerous, that he was unable to attend to the entire supervision; and, in the second place, the head of the family, at this period, was Chia Chen, who, as the eldest grandchild of the Ning mansion, had likewise now come into the inheritance of the official status, with the result that all matters connected with the clan devolved upon his sole and exclusive control. In the third place, public as well as private concerns were manifold and complex, and being a man of negligent disposition, he estimated ordinary affairs of so little consequence that any respite from his official duties he devoted to no more than the study of books and the playing of chess. Furthermore, this Pear Fragrance Court was separated by two rows of buildings from his quarters and was also provided with a separate door opening into the street, so that, being able at their own heart's desire to go out and to come in, these several young fellows could well indulge their caprices, and gratify the bent of their minds. Hence it was that Hsüeh P'an, in course of time gradually extinguished from his memory every idea of shifting their quarters. But what transpired, on subsequent days, the following chapter will explain. CHAPTER V. The spirit of Chia Pao-yü visits the confines of the Great Void. The Monitory Vision Fairy expounds, in ballads, the Dream of the Red Chamber. Having in the fourth Chapter explained, to some degree, the circumstances attending the settlement of the mother and children of the Hsüeh family in the Jung mansion, and other incidental matters, we will now revert to Lin Tai-yü. Ever since her arrival in the Jung mansion, dowager lady Chia showed her the highest sympathy and affection, so that in everything connected with sleeping, eating, rising and accommodation she was on the same footing as Pao-yü; with the result that Ying Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and T'an Ch'un, her three granddaughters, had after all to take a back seat. In fact, the intimate and close friendliness and love which sprung up between the two persons Pao-yü and Tai-yü, was, in the same degree, of an exceptional kind, as compared with those existing between the others. By daylight they were wont to walk together, and to sit together. At night, they would desist together, and rest together. Really it was a case of harmony in language and concord in ideas, of the consistency of varnish or of glue, (a close friendship), when at this unexpected juncture there came this girl, Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai, who, though not very much older in years (than the others), was, nevertheless, in manner so correct, and in features so beautiful that the consensus of opinion was that Tai-yü herself could not come up to her standard. What is more, in her ways Pao-Ch'ai was so full of good tact, so considerate and accommodating, so unlike Tai-yü, who was supercilious, self-confident, and without any regard for the world below, that the natural consequence was that she soon completely won the hearts of the lower classes. Even the whole number of waiting-maids would also for the most part, play and joke with Pao-ch'ai. Hence it was that Tai-yü fostered, in her heart, considerable feelings of resentment, but of this however Pao-ch'ai had not the least inkling. Pao-yü was, likewise, in the prime of his boyhood, and was, besides, as far as the bent of his natural disposition was concerned, in every respect absurd and perverse; regarding his cousins, whether male or female, one and all with one common sentiment, and without any distinction whatever between the degrees of distant or close relationship. Sitting and sleeping, as he now was under the same roof with Tai-yü in dowager lady Chia's suite of rooms, he naturally became comparatively more friendly with her than with his other cousins; and this friendliness led to greater intimacy and this intimacy once established, rendered unavoidable the occurrence of the blight of harmony from unforeseen slight pretexts. These two had had on this very day, for some unknown reason, words between them more or less unfriendly, and Tai-yü was again sitting all alone in her room, giving way to tears. Pao-yü was once more within himself quite conscience-smitten for his ungraceful remarks, and coming forward, he humbly made advances, until, at length, Tai-yü little by little came round. As the plum blossom, in the eastern part of the garden of the Ning mansion, was in full bloom, Chia Chen's spouse, Mrs. Yu, made preparations for a collation, (purposing) to send invitations to dowager lady Chia, mesdames Hsing, and Wang, and the other members of the family, to come and admire the flowers; and when the day arrived the first thing she did was to take Chia Jung and his wife, the two of them, and come and ask them round in person. Dowager lady Chia and the other inmates crossed over after their early meal; and they at once promenaded the Hui Fang (Concentrated Fragrance) Garden. First tea was served, and next wine; but the entertainment was no more than a family banquet of the kindred of the two mansions of Ning and Jung, so that there was a total lack of any novel or original recreation that could be put on record. After a little time, Pao-yü felt tired and languid and inclined for his midday siesta. "Take good care," dowager lady Chia enjoined some of them, "and stay with him, while he rests for a while, when he can come back;" whereupon Chia Jung's wife, Mrs. Ch'in, smiled and said with eagerness: "We got ready in here a room for uncle Pao, so let your venerable ladyship set your mind at ease. Just hand him over to my charge, and he will be quite safe. Mothers and sisters," she continued, addressing herself to Pao-yü's nurses and waiting maids, "invite uncle Pao to follow me in here." Dowager lady Chia had always been aware of the fact that Mrs. Ch'in was a most trustworthy person, naturally courteous and scrupulous, and in every action likewise so benign and gentle; indeed the most estimable among the whole number of her great grandsons' wives, so that when she saw her about to go and attend to Pao-yü, she felt that, for a certainty, everything would be well. Mrs. Ch'in, there and then, led away a company of attendants, and came into the rooms inside the drawing room. Pao-yü, upon raising his head, and catching sight of a picture hung on the upper wall, representing a human figure, in perfect style, the subject of which was a portrait of Yen Li, speedily felt his heart sink within him. There was also a pair of scrolls, the text of which was: A thorough insight into worldly matters arises from knowledge; A clear perception of human nature emanates from literary lore. On perusal of these two sentences, albeit the room was sumptuous and beautifully laid out, he would on no account remain in it. "Let us go at once," he hastened to observe, "let us go at once." Mrs. Ch'in upon hearing his objections smiled. "If this," she said, "is really not nice, where are you going? if you won't remain here, well then come into my room." Pao-yü nodded his head and gave a faint grin. "Where do you find the propriety," a nurse thereupon interposed, "of an uncle going to sleep in the room of a nephew's wife?" "Ai ya!" exclaimed Mrs. Ch'in laughing, "I don't mind whether he gets angry or not (at what I say); but how old can he be as to reverentially shun all these things? Why my brother was with me here last month; didn't you see him? he's, true enough, of the same age as uncle Pao, but were the two of them to stand side by side, I suspect that he would be much higher in stature." "How is it," asked Pao-yü, "that I didn't see him? Bring him along and let me have a look at him!" "He's separated," they all ventured as they laughed, "by a distance of twenty or thirty li, and how can he be brought along? but you'll see him some day." As they were talking, they reached the interior of Mrs. Ch'in's apartments. As soon as they got in, a very faint puff of sweet fragrance was wafted into their nostrils. Pao-yü readily felt his eyes itch and his bones grow weak. "What a fine smell!" he exclaimed several consecutive times. Upon entering the apartments, and gazing at the partition wall, he saw a picture the handiwork of T'ang Po-hu, consisting of Begonias drooping in the spring time; on either side of which was one of a pair of scrolls, written by Ch'in Tai-hsü, a Literary Chancellor of the Sung era, running as follows: A gentle chill doth circumscribe the dreaming man, because the spring is cold. The fragrant whiff, which wafts itself into man's nose, is the perfume of wine! On the table was a mirror, one which had been placed, in days of yore, in the Mirror Palace of the Emperor Wu Tse-t'ien. On one side stood a gold platter, in which Fei Yen, who lived in the Ch'ao state, used to stand and dance. In this platter, was laid a quince, which An Lu-shan had flung at the Empress T'ai Chen, inflicting a wound on her breast. In the upper part of the room, stood a divan ornamented with gems, on which the Emperor's daughter, Shou Ch'ang, was wont to sleep, in the Han Chang Palace Hanging, were curtains embroidered with strings of pearls, by T'ung Ch'ang, the Imperial Princess. "It's nice in here, it's nice in here," exclaimed Pao-yü with a chuckle. "This room of mine," observed Mrs. Ch'in smilingly, "is I think, good enough for even spirits to live in!" and, as she uttered these words, she with her own hands, opened a gauze coverlet, which had been washed by Hsi Shih, and removed a bridal pillow, which had been held in the arms of Hung Niang. Instantly, the nurses attended to Pao-yü, until he had laid down comfortably; when they quietly dispersed, leaving only the four waiting maids: Hsi Jen, Ch'iu Wen, Ch'ing Wen and She Yueh to keep him company. "Mind be careful, as you sit under the eaves," Mrs. Ch'in recommended the young waiting maids, "that the cats do not start a fight!" Pao-yü then closed his eyes, and, little by little, became drowsy, and fell asleep. It seemed to him just as if Mrs. Ch'in was walking ahead of him. Forthwith, with listless and unsettled step, he followed Mrs. Ch'in to some spot or other, where he saw carnation-like railings, jade-like steps, verdant trees and limpid pools--a spot where actually no trace of any human being could be met with, where of the shifting mundane dust little had penetrated. Pao-yü felt, in his dream, quite delighted. "This place," he mused, "is pleasant, and I may as well spend my whole lifetime in here! though I may have to lose my home, I'm quite ready for the sacrifice, for it's far better being here than being flogged, day after day, by father, mother, and teacher." While he pondered in this erratic strain, he suddenly heard the voice of some human being at the back of the rocks, giving vent to this song: Like scattering clouds doth fleet a vernal dream; The transient flowers pass like a running stream; Maidens and youths bear this, ye all, in mind; In useless grief what profit will ye find? Pao-yü perceived that the voice was that of a girl. The song was barely at an end, when he soon espied in the opposite direction, a beautiful girl advancing with majestic and elastic step; a girl quite unlike any ordinary mortal being. There is this poem, which gives an adequate description of her: Lo she just quits the willow bank; and sudden now she issues from the flower-bedecked house; As onward alone she speeds, she startles the birds perched in the trees, by the pavilion; to which as she draws nigh, her shadow flits by the verandah! Her fairy clothes now flutter in the wind! a fragrant perfume like unto musk or olea is wafted in the air; Her apparel lotus-like is sudden wont to move; and the jingle of her ornaments strikes the ear. Her dimpled cheeks resemble, as they smile, a vernal peach; her kingfisher coiffure is like a cumulus of clouds; her lips part cherry-like; her pomegranate-like teeth conceal a fragrant breath. Her slender waist, so beauteous to look at, is like the skipping snow wafted by a gust of wind; the sheen of her pearls and kingfisher trinkets abounds with splendour, green as the feathers of a duck, and yellow as the plumes of a goose; Now she issues to view, and now is hidden among the flowers; beautiful she is when displeased, beautiful when in high spirits; with lissome step, she treads along the pond, as if she soars on wings or sways in the air. Her eyebrows are crescent moons, and knit under her smiles; she speaks, and yet she seems no word to utter; her lotus-like feet with ease pursue their course; she stops, and yet she seems still to be in motion; the charms of her figure all vie with ice in purity, and in splendour with precious gems; Lovely is her brilliant attire, so full of grandeur and refined grace. Loveable her countenance, as if moulded from some fragrant substance, or carved from white jade; elegant is her person, like a phoenix, dignified like a dragon soaring high. What is her chastity like? Like a white plum in spring with snow nestling in its broken skin; Her purity? Like autumn orchids bedecked with dewdrops. Her modesty? Like a fir-tree growing in a barren plain; Her comeliness? Like russet clouds reflected in a limpid pool. Her gracefulness? Like a dragon in motion wriggling in a stream; Her refinement? Like the rays of the moon shooting on to a cool river. Sure is she to put Hsi Tzu to shame! Bound to put Wang Ch'iang to the blush! What a remarkable person! Where was she born? and whence does she come? One thing is true that in Fairy-land there is no second like her! that in the Purple Courts of Heaven there is no one fit to be her peer! Forsooth, who can it be, so surpassingly beautiful! Pao-yü, upon realising that she was a fairy, was much elated; and with eagerness advanced and made a bow. "My divine sister," he ventured, as he put on a smile. "I don't know whence you come, and whither you are going. Nor have I any idea what this place is, but I make bold to entreat that you would take my hand and lead me on." "My abode," replied the Fairy, "is above the Heavens of Divested Animosities, and in the ocean of Discharged Sorrows. I'm the Fairy of Monitory Vision, of the cave of Drooping Fragrance, in the mount of Emitted Spring, within the confines of the Great Void. I preside over the voluptuous affections and sensual debts among the mortal race, and supervise in the dusty world, the envies of women and the lusts of man. It's because I've recently come to hear that the retribution for voluptuousness extends up to this place, that I betake myself here in order to find suitable opportunities of disseminating mutual affections. My encounter with you now is also not a matter of accident! This spot is not distant from my confines. I have nothing much there besides a cup of the tender buds of tea plucked by my own hands, and a pitcher of luscious wine, fermented by me as well as several spritelike singing and dancing maidens of great proficiency, and twelve ballads of spiritual song, recently completed, on the Dream of the Red Chamber; but won't you come along with me for a stroll?" Pao-yü, at this proposal, felt elated to such an extraordinary degree that he could skip from joy, and there and then discarding from his mind all idea of where Mrs. Ch'in was, he readily followed the Fairy. They reached some spot, where there was a stone tablet, put up in a horizontal position, on which were visible the four large characters: "The confines of the Great Void," on either side of which was one of a pair of scrolls, with the two antithetical sentences: When falsehood stands for truth, truth likewise becomes false; When naught be made to aught, aught changes into naught! Past the Portal stood the door of a Palace, and horizontally, above this door, were the four large characters: "The Sea of Retribution, the Heaven of Love." There were also a pair of scrolls, with the inscription in large characters: Passion, alas! thick as the earth, and lofty as the skies, from ages past to the present hath held incessant sway; How pitiful your lot! ye lustful men and women envious, that your voluptuous debts should be so hard to pay! Pao-yü, after perusal, communed with his own heart. "Is it really so!" he thought, "but I wonder what implies the passion from old till now, and what are the voluptuous debts! Henceforward, I must enlighten myself!" Pao-yü was bent upon this train of thoughts when he unwittingly attracted several evil spirits into his heart, and with speedy step he followed in the track of the fairy, and entered two rows of doors when he perceived that the Lateral Halls were, on both sides, full of tablets and scrolls, the number of which he could not in one moment ascertain. He however discriminated in numerous places the inscriptions: The Board of Lustful Love; the Board of contracted grudges; The Board of Matutinal sobs; the Board of nocturnal tears; the Board of vernal affections; and the Board of autumnal anguish. After he had perused these inscriptions, he felt impelled to turn round and address the Fairy. "May I venture to trouble my Fairy," he said, "to take me along for a turn into the interior of each of these Boards? May I be allowed, I wonder, to do so?" "Inside each of these Boards," explained the Fairy, "are accumulated the registers with the records of all women of the whole world; of those who have passed away, as well as of those who have not as yet come into it, and you, with your mortal eyes and human body, could not possibly be allowed to know anything in anticipation." But would Pao-yü, upon hearing these words, submit to this decree? He went on to implore her permission again and again, until the Fairy casting her eye upon the tablet of the board in front of her observed, "Well, all right! you may go into this board and reap some transient pleasure." Pao-yü was indescribably joyous, and, as he raised his head, he perceived that the text on the tablet consisted of the three characters: the Board of Ill-fated lives; and that on each side was a scroll with the inscription: Upon one's self are mainly brought regrets in spring and autumn gloom; A face, flowerlike may be and moonlike too; but beauty all for whom? Upon perusal of the scroll Pao-yü was, at once, the more stirred with admiration; and, as he crossed the door, and reached the interior, the only things that struck his eye were about ten large presses, the whole number of which were sealed with paper slips; on every one of these slips, he perceived that there were phrases peculiar to each province. Pao-yü was in his mind merely bent upon discerning, from the rest, the slip referring to his own native village, when he espied, on the other side, a slip with the large characters: "the Principal Record of the Twelve Maidens of Chin Ling." "What is the meaning," therefore inquired Pao-yü, "of the Principal Record of the Twelve Maidens of Chin Ling?" "As this is the record," explained the Fairy, "of the most excellent and prominent girls in your honourable province, it is, for this reason, called the Principal Record." "I've often heard people say," observed Pao-yü, "that Chin Ling is of vast extent; and how can there only be twelve maidens in it! why, at present, in our own family alone, there are more or less several hundreds of young girls!" The Fairy gave a faint smile. "Through there be," she rejoined, "so large a number of girls in your honourable province, those only of any note have been selected and entered in this record. The two presses, on the two sides, contain those who are second best; while, for all who remain, as they are of the ordinary run, there are, consequently, no registers to make any entry of them in." Pao-yü upon looking at the press below, perceived the inscription: "Secondary Record of the twelve girls of Chin Ling;" while again in another press was inscribed: "Supplementary Secondary Record of the Twelve girls of Chin Ling." Forthwith stretching out his hand, Pao-yü opened first the doors of the press, containing the "supplementary secondary Record," extracted a volume of the registers, and opened it. When he came to examine it, he saw on the front page a representation of something, which, though bearing no resemblance to a human being, presented, at the same time, no similitude to scenery; consisting simply of huge blotches made with ink. The whole paper was full of nothing else but black clouds and turbid mists, after which appeared the traces of a few characters, explaining that-- A cloudless moon is rare forsooth to see, And pretty clouds so soon scatter and flee! Thy heart is deeper than the heavens are high, Thy frame consists of base ignominy! Thy looks and clever mind resentment will provoke, And thine untimely death vile slander will evoke! A loving noble youth in vain for love will yearn. After reading these lines, Pao-yü looked below, where was pictured a bouquet of fresh flowers and a bed covered with tattered matting. There were also several distiches running as follows: Thy self-esteem for kindly gentleness is but a fancy vain! Thy charms that they can match the olea or orchid, but thoughts inane! While an actor will, envious lot! with fortune's smiles be born, A youth of noble birth will, strange to say, be luckless and forlorn. Pao-yü perused these sentences, but could not unfold their meaning, so, at once discarding this press, he went over and opened the door of the press of the "Secondary Records" and took out a book, in which, on examination, he found a representation of a twig of Olea fragrans. Below, was a pond, the water of which was parched up and the mud dry, the lotus flowers decayed, and even the roots dead. At the back were these lines: The lotus root and flower but one fragrance will give; How deep alas! the wounds of thy life's span will be; What time a desolate tree in two places will live, Back to its native home the fragrant ghost will flee! Pao-yü read these lines, but failed to understand what they meant. He then went and fetched the "Principal Record," and set to looking it over. He saw on the first page a picture of two rotten trees, while on these trees was suspended a jade girdle. There was also a heap of snow, and under this snow was a golden hair-pin. There were in addition these four lines in verse: Bitter thy cup will be, e'en were the virtue thine to stop the loom, Thine though the gift the willow fluff to sing, pity who will thy doom? High in the trees doth hang the girdle of white jade, And lo! among the snow the golden pin is laid! To Pao-yü the meaning was again, though he read the lines over, quite unintelligible. He was, about to make inquiries, but he felt convinced that the Fairy would be both to divulge the decrees of Heaven; and though intent upon discarding the book, he could not however tear himself away from it. Forthwith, therefore, he prosecuted a further perusal of what came next, when he caught sight of a picture of a bow. On this bow hung a citron. There was also this ode: Full twenty years right and wrong to expound will be thy fate! What place pomegranate blossoms come in bloom will face the Palace Gate! The third portion of spring, of the first spring in beauty short will fall! When tiger meets with hare thou wilt return to sleep perennial. Further on, was also a sketch of two persons flying a kite; a broad expanse of sea, and a large vessel; while in this vessel was a girl, who screened her face bedewed with tears. These four lines were likewise visible: Pure and bright will be thy gifts, thy purpose very high; But born thou wilt be late in life and luck be passed by; At the tomb feast thou wilt repine tearful along the stream, East winds may blow, but home miles off will be, even in dream. After this followed a picture of several streaks of fleeting clouds, and of a creek whose waters were exhausted, with the text: Riches and honours too what benefit are they? In swaddling clothes thou'lt be when parents pass away; The rays will slant, quick as the twinkle of an eye; The Hsiang stream will recede, the Ch'u clouds onward fly! Then came a picture of a beautiful gem, which had fallen into the mire, with the verse: Thine aim is chastity, but chaste thou wilt not be; Abstraction is thy faith, but void thou may'st not see; Thy precious, gemlike self will, pitiful to say, Into the mundane mire collapse at length some day. A rough sketch followed of a savage wolf, in pursuit of a beautiful girl, trying to pounce upon her as he wished to devour her. This was the burden of the distich: Thy mate is like a savage wolf prowling among the hills; His wish once gratified a haughty spirit his heart fills! Though fair thy form like flowers or willows in the golden moon, Upon the yellow beam to hang will shortly be its doom. Below, was an old temple, in the interior of which was a beautiful person, just in the act of reading the religious manuals, as she sat all alone; with this inscription: In light esteem thou hold'st the charms of the three springs for their short-liv'd fate; Thine attire of past years to lay aside thou chang'st, a Taoist dress to don; How sad, alas! of a reputed house and noble kindred the scion, Alone, behold! she sleeps under a glimmering light, an old idol for mate. Next in order came a hill of ice, on which stood a hen-phoenix, while under it was this motto: When time ends, sure coincidence, the phoenix doth alight; The talents of this human form all know and living see, For first to yield she kens, then to control, and third genial to be; But sad to say, things in Chin Ling are in more sorry plight. This was succeeded by a representation of a desolate village, and a dreary inn. A pretty girl sat in there, spinning thread. These were the sentiments affixed below: When riches will have flown will honours then avail? When ruin breaks your home, e'en relatives will fail! But sudden through the aid extended to Dame Liu, A friend in need fortune will make to rise for you. Following these verses, was drawn a pot of Orchids, by the side of which, was a beautiful maiden in a phoenix-crown and cloudy mantle (bridal dress); and to this picture was appended this device: What time spring wanes, then fades the bloom of peach as well as plum! Who ever can like a pot of the olea be winsome! With ice thy purity will vie, vain their envy will be! In vain a laughing-stock people will try to make of thee. At the end of this poetical device, came the representation of a lofty edifice, on which was a beauteous girl, suspending herself on a beam to commit suicide; with this verse: Love high as heav'n, love ocean-wide, thy lovely form will don; What time love will encounter love, license must rise wanton; Why hold that all impiety in Jung doth find its spring, The source of trouble, verily, is centred most in Ning. Pao-yü was still bent upon prosecuting his perusal, when the Fairy perceiving that his intellect was eminent and bright, and his natural talents quickwitted, and apprehending lest the decrees of heaven should be divulged, hastily closed the Book of Record, and addressed herself to Pao-yü. "Come along with me," she said smiling, "and see some wonderful scenery. What's the need of staying here and beating this gourd of ennui?" In a dazed state, Pao-yü listlessly discarded the record, and again followed in the footsteps of the Fairy. On their arrival at the back, he saw carnation portières, and embroidered curtains, ornamented pillars, and carved eaves. But no words can adequately give an idea of the vermilion apartments glistening with splendour, of the floors garnished with gold, of the snow reflecting lustrous windows, of the palatial mansions made of gems. He also saw fairyland flowers, beautiful and fragrant, and extraordinary vegetation, full of perfume. The spot was indeed elysian. He again heard the Fairy observe with a smiling face: "Come out all of you at once and greet the honoured guest!" These words were scarcely completed, when he espied fairies walk out of the mansion, all of whom were, with their dangling lotus sleeves, and their fluttering feather habiliments, as comely as spring flowers, and as winsome as the autumn moon. As soon as they caught sight of Pao-yü, they all, with one voice, resentfully reproached the Monitory Vision Fairy. "Ignorant as to who the honoured guest could be," they argued, "we hastened to come out to offer our greetings simply because you, elder sister, had told us that, on this day, and at this very time, there would be sure to come on a visit, the spirit of the younger sister of Chiang Chu. That's the reason why we've been waiting for ever so long; and now why do you, in lieu of her, introduce this vile object to contaminate the confines of pure and spotless maidens?" As soon as Pao-yü heard these remarks, he was forthwith plunged in such a state of consternation that he would have retired, but he found it impossible to do so. In fact, he felt the consciousness of the foulness and corruption of his own nature quite intolerable. The Monitory Vision Fairy promptly took Pao-yü's hand in her own, and turning towards her younger sisters, smiled and explained: "You, and all of you, are not aware of the why and wherefore. To-day I did mean to have gone to the Jung mansion to fetch Chiang Chu, but as I went by the Ning mansion, I unexpectedly came across the ghosts of the two dukes of Jung and Ning, who addressed me in this wise: 'Our family has, since the dynasty established itself on the Throne, enjoyed merit and fame, which pervaded many ages, and riches and honours transmitted from generation to generation. One hundred years have already elapsed, but this good fortune has now waned, and this propitious luck is exhausted; so much so that they could not be retrieved! Our sons and grandsons may be many, but there is no one among them who has the means to continue the family estate, with the exception of our kindred grandson, Pao-yü alone, who, though perverse in disposition and wayward by nature, is nevertheless intelligent and quick-witted and qualified in a measure to give effect to our hopes. But alas! the good fortune of our family is entirely decayed, so that we fear there is no person to incite him to enter the right way! Fortunately you worthy fairy come at an unexpected moment, and we venture to trust that you will, above all things, warn him against the foolish indulgence of inordinate desire, lascivious affections and other such things, in the hope that he may, at your instigation, be able to escape the snares of those girls who will allure him with their blandishments, and to enter on the right track; and we two brothers will be ever grateful.' "On language such as this being addressed to me, my feelings of commiseration naturally burst forth; and I brought him here, and bade him, first of all, carefully peruse the records of the whole lives of the maidens in his family, belonging to the three grades, the upper, middle and lower, but as he has not yet fathomed the import, I have consequently led him into this place to experience the vision of drinking, eating, singing and licentious love, in the hope, there is no saying, of his at length attaining that perception." Having concluded these remarks, she led Pao-yü by the hand into the apartment, where he felt a whiff of subtle fragrance, but what it was that reached his nostrils he could not tell. To Pao-yü's eager and incessant inquiries, the Fairy made reply with a sardonic smile. "This perfume," she said, "is not to be found in the world, and how could you discern what it is? This is made of the essence of the first sprouts of rare herbs, growing on all hills of fame and places of superior excellence, admixed with the oil of every species of splendid shrubs in precious groves, and is called the marrow of Conglomerated Fragrance." At these words Pao-yü was, of course, full of no other feeling than wonder. The whole party advanced and took their seats, and a young maidservant presented tea, which Pao-yü found of pure aroma, of excellent flavour and of no ordinary kind. "What is the name of this tea?" he therefore asked; upon which the Fairy explained. "This tea," she added, "originates from the Hills of Emitted Spring and the Valley of Drooping Fragrance, and is, besides, brewed in the night dew, found on spiritual plants and divine leaves. The name of this tea is 'one thousand red in one hole.'" At these words Pao-yü nodded his head, and extolled its qualities. Espying in the room lutes, with jasper mountings, and tripods, inlaid with gems, antique paintings, and new poetical works, which were to be seen everywhere, he felt more than ever in a high state of delight. Below the windows, were also shreds of velvet sputtered about and a toilet case stained with the traces of time and smudged with cosmetic; while on the partition wall was likewise suspended a pair of scrolls, with the inscription: A lonesome, small, ethereal, beauteous nook! What help is there, but Heaven's will to brook? Pao-yü having completed his inspection felt full of admiration, and proceeded to ascertain the names and surnames of the Fairies. One was called the Fairy of Lustful Dreams; another "the High Ruler of Propagated Passion;" the name of one was "the Golden Maiden of Perpetuated Sorrow;" of another the "Intelligent Maiden of Transmitted Hatred." (In fact,) the respective Taoist appellations were not of one and the same kind. In a short while, young maid-servants came in and laid the table, put the chairs in their places, and spread out wines and eatables. There were actually crystal tankards overflowing with luscious wines, and amber glasses full to the brim with pearly strong liquors. But still less need is there to give any further details about the sumptuousness of the refreshments. Pao-yü found it difficult, on account of the unusual purity of the bouquet of the wine, to again restrain himself from making inquiries about it. "This wine," observed the Monitory Dream Fairy, "is made of the twigs of hundreds of flowers, and the juice of ten thousands of trees, with the addition of must composed of unicorn marrow, and yeast prepared with phoenix milk. Hence the name of 'Ten thousand Beauties in one Cup' was given to it." Pao-yü sang its incessant praise, and, while he sipped his wine, twelve dancing girls came forward, and requested to be told what songs they were to sing. "Take," suggested the Fairy, "the newly-composed Twelve Sections of the Dream of the Red Chamber, and sing them." The singing girls signified their obedience, and forthwith they lightly clapped the castagnettes and gently thrummed the virginals. These were the words which they were heard to sing: At the time of the opening of the heavens and the laying out of the earth chaos prevailed. They had just sung this one line when the Fairy exclaimed: "This ballad is unlike the ballads written in the dusty world whose purport is to hand down remarkable events, in which the distinction of scholars, girls, old men and women, and fools is essential, and in which are furthermore introduced the lyrics of the Southern and Northern Palaces. These fairy songs consist either of elegaic effusions on some person or impressions of some occurrence or other, and are impromptu songs readily set to the music of wind or string instruments, so that any one who is not cognisant of their gist cannot appreciate the beauties contained in them. So you are not likely, I fear, to understand this lyric with any clearness; and unless you first peruse the text and then listen to the ballad, you will, instead of pleasure, feel as if you were chewing wax (devoid of any zest)." After these remarks, she turned her head round, and directed a young maid-servant to fetch the text of the Dream of the Red Chamber, which she handed to Pao-yü, who took it over; and as he followed the words with his eyes, with his ears he listened to the strains of this song: Preface of the Bream of the Red Chamber.--When the Heavens were opened and earth was laid out chaos prevailed! What was the germ of love? It arises entirely from the strength of licentious love. What day, by the will of heaven, I felt wounded at heart, and what time I was at leisure, I made an attempt to disburden my sad heart; and with this object in view I indited this Dream of the Bed Chamber, on the subject of a disconsolate gold trinket and an unfortunate piece of jade. Waste of a whole Lifetime. All maintain that the match between gold and jade will be happy. All I can think of is the solemn oath contracted in days gone by by the plant and stone! Vain will I gaze upon the snow, Hsüeh, [Pao-ch'ai], pure as crystal and lustrous like a gem of the eminent priest living among the hills! Never will I forget the noiseless Fairy Grove, Lin [Tai-yü], beyond the confines of the mortal world! Alas! now only have I come to believe that human happiness is incomplete; and that a couple may be bound by the ties of wedlock for life, but that after all their hearts are not easy to lull into contentment. Vain knitting of the brows. The one is a spirit flower of Fairyland; the other is a beautiful jade without a blemish. Do you maintain that their union will not be remarkable? Why how then is it that he has come to meet her again in this existence? If the union will you say, be strange, how is it then that their love affair will be but empty words? The one in her loneliness will give way to useless sighs. The other in vain will yearn and crave. The one will be like the reflection of the moon in water; the other like a flower reflected in a mirror. Consider, how many drops of tears can there be in the eyes? and how could they continue to drop from autumn to winter and from spring to flow till summer time? But to come to Pao-yü. After he had heard these ballads, so diffuse and vague, he failed to see any point of beauty in them; but the plaintive melody of the sound was nevertheless sufficient to drive away his spirit and exhilarate his soul. Hence it was that he did not make any inquiries about the arguments, and that he did not ask about the matter treated, but simply making these ballads the means for the time being of dispelling melancholy, he therefore went on with the perusal of what came below. Despicable Spirit of Death! You will be rejoicing that glory is at its height when hateful death will come once again, and with eyes wide with horror, you will discard all things, and dimly and softly the fragrant spirit will waste and dissolve! You will yearn for native home, but distant will be the way, and lofty the mountains. Hence it is that you will betake yourself in search of father and mother, while they lie under the influence of a dream, and hold discourse with them. "Your child," you will say, "has already trodden the path of death! Oh my parents, it behoves you to speedily retrace your steps and make good your escape!" Separated from Relatives. You will speed on a journey of three thousand li at the mercy of wind and rain, and tear yourself from all your family ties and your native home! Your fears will be lest anguish should do any harm to your parents in their failing years! "Father and mother," you will bid them, "do not think with any anxiety of your child. From ages past poverty as well as success have both had a fixed destiny; and is it likely that separation and reunion are not subject to predestination? Though we may now be far apart in two different places, we must each of us try and preserve good cheer. Your abject child has, it is true, gone from home, but abstain from distressing yourselves on her account!" Sorrow in the midst of Joy. While wrapped as yet in swaddling clothes, father and mother, both alas! will depart, and dwell though you will in that mass of gauze, who is there who will know how to spoil you with any fond attention? Born you will be fortunately with ample moral courage, and high-minded and boundless resources, for your parents will not have, in the least, their child's secret feelings at heart! You will be like a moon appearing to view when the rain holds up, shedding its rays upon the Jade Hall; or a gentle breeze (wafting its breath upon it). Wedded to a husband, fairy like fair and accomplished, you will enjoy a happiness enduring as the earth and perennial as the Heavens! and you will be the means of snapping asunder the bitter fate of your youth! But, after all, the clouds will scatter in Kao T'ang and the waters of the Hsiang river will get parched! This is the inevitable destiny of dissolution and continuance which prevails in the mortal world, and what need is there to indulge in useless grief? Intolerable to the world. Your figure will be as winsome as an olea fragrans; your talents as ample as those of a Fairy! You will by nature be so haughty that of the whole human race few will be like you! You will look upon a meat diet as one of dirt, and treat splendour as coarse and loathsome! And yet you will not be aware that your high notions will bring upon you the excessive hatred of man! You will be very eager in your desire after chastity, but the human race will despise you! Alas, you will wax old in that antique temple hall under a faint light, where you will waste ungrateful for beauty, looks and freshness! But after all you will still be worldly, corrupt and unmindful of your vows; just like a spotless white jade you will be whose fate is to fall into the mire! And what need will there be for the grandson of a prince or the son of a duke to deplore that his will not be the good fortune (of winning your affections)? The Voluptuary. You will resemble a wolf in the mountains! a savage beast devoid of all human feeling! Regardless in every way of the obligations of days gone by, your sole pleasure will be in the indulgence of haughtiness, extravagance, licentiousness and dissolute habits! You will be inordinate in your conjugal affections, and look down upon the beautiful charms of the child of a marquis, as if they were cat-tail rush or willow; trampling upon the honourable daughter of a ducal mansion, as if she were one of the common herd. Pitiful to say, the fragrant spirit and beauteous ghost will in a year softly and gently pass away! The Perception that all things are transient like flowers. You will look lightly upon the three springs and regard the blush of the peach and the green of the willow as of no avail. You will beat out the fire of splendour, and treat solitary retirement as genial! What is it that you say about the delicate peaches in the heavens (marriage) being excellent, and the petals of the almond in the clouds being plentiful (children)? Let him who has after all seen one of them, (really a mortal being) go safely through the autumn, (wade safely through old age), behold the people in the white Poplar village groan and sigh; and the spirits under the green maple whine and moan! Still more wide in expanse than even the heavens is the dead vegetation which covers the graves! The moral is this, that the burden of man is poverty one day and affluence another; that bloom in spring, and decay in autumn, constitute the doom of vegetable life! In the same way, this calamity of birth and the visitation of death, who is able to escape? But I have heard it said that there grows in the western quarter a tree called the P'o So (Patient Bearing) which bears the fruit of Immortal life! The bane of Intelligence. Yours will be the power to estimate, in a thorough manner, the real motives of all things, as yours will be intelligence of an excessive degree; but instead (of reaping any benefit) you will cast the die of your own existence! The heart of your previous life is already reduced to atoms, and when you shall have died, your nature will have been intelligent to no purpose! Your home will be in easy circumstances; your family will enjoy comforts; but your connexions will, at length, fall a prey to death, and the inmates of your family scatter, each one of you speeding in a different direction, making room for others! In vain, you will have harassed your mind with cankering thoughts for half a lifetime; for it will be just as if you had gone through the confused mazes of a dream on the third watch! Sudden a crash (will be heard) like the fall of a spacious palace, and a dusky gloominess (will supervene) such as is caused by a lamp about to spend itself! Alas! a spell of happiness will be suddenly (dispelled by) adversity! Woe is man in the world! for his ultimate doom is difficult to determine! Leave behind a residue of happiness! Hand down an excess of happiness; hand down an excess of happiness! Unexpectedly you will come across a benefactor! Fortunate enough your mother, your own mother, will have laid by a store of virtue and secret meritorious actions! My advice to you, mankind, is to relieve the destitute and succour the distressed! Do not resemble those who will harp after lucre and show themselves unmindful of the ties of relationship: that wolflike maternal uncle of yours and that impostor of a brother! True it is that addition and subtraction, increase and decrease, (reward and punishment,) rest in the hands of Heaven above! Splendour at last. Loving affection in a mirror will be still more ephemeral than fame in a dream. That fine splendour will fleet how soon! Make no further allusion to embroidered curtain, to bridal coverlet; for though you may come to wear on your head a pearl-laden coronet, and, on your person, a jacket ornamented with phoenixes, yours will not nevertheless be the means to atone for the short life (of your husband)! Though the saying is that mankind should not have, in their old age, the burden of poverty to bear, yet it is also essential that a store of benevolent deeds should be laid up for the benefit of sons and grandsons! (Your son) may come to be dignified in appearance and wear on his head the official tassel, and on his chest may be suspended the gold seal resplendent in lustre; he may be imposing in his majesty, and he may rise high in status and emoluments, but the dark and dreary way which leads to death is short! Are the generals and ministers who have been from ages of old still in the flesh, forsooth? They exist only in a futile name handed down to posterity to reverence! Death ensues when things propitious reign! Upon the ornamented beam will settle at the close of spring the fragrant dust! Your reckless indulgence of licentious love and your naturally moonlike face will soon be the source of the ruin of a family. The decadence of the family estate will emanate entirely from Ching; while the wane of the family affairs will be entirely attributable to the fault of Ning! Licentious love will be the main reason of the long-standing grudge. The flying birds each perch upon the trees! The family estates of those in official positions will fade! The gold and silver of the rich and honoured will be scattered! those who will have conferred benefit will, even in death, find the means of escape! those devoid of human feelings will reap manifest retribution! Those indebted for a life will make, in due time, payment with their lives; those indebted for tears have already (gone) to exhaust their tears! Mutual injuries will be revenged in no light manner! Separation and reunion will both alike be determined by predestination! You wish to know why your life will be short; look into your previous existence! Verily, riches and honours, which will come with old age, will likewise be a question of chance! Those who will hold the world in light esteem will retire within the gate of abstraction; while those who will be allured by enticement will have forfeited their lives (The Chia family will fulfil its destiny) as surely as birds take to the trees after they have exhausted all they had to eat, and which as they drop down will pile up a hoary, vast and lofty heap of dust, (leaving) indeed a void behind! When the maidens had finished the ballads, they went on to sing the "Supplementary Record;" but the Monitory Vision Fairy, perceiving the total absence of any interest in Pao-yü, heaved a sigh. "You silly brat!" she exclaimed. "What! haven't you, even now, attained perception!" "There's no need for you to go on singing," speedily observed Pao-yü, as he interrupted the singing maidens; and feeling drowsy and dull, he pleaded being under the effects of wine, and begged to be allowed to lie down. The Fairy then gave orders to clear away the remains of the feast, and escorted Pao-yü to a suite of female apartments, where the splendour of such objects as were laid out was a thing which he had not hitherto seen. But what evoked in him wonder still more intense, was the sight, at an early period, of a girl seated in the room, who, in the freshness of her beauty and winsomeness of her charms, bore some resemblance to Pao-ch'ai, while, in elegance and comeliness, on the other hand, to Tai-yu. While he was plunged in a state of perplexity, the Fairy suddenly remarked: "All those female apartments and ladies' chambers in so many wealthy and honourable families in the world are, without exception, polluted by voluptuous opulent puppets and by all that bevy of profligate girls. But still more despicable are those from old till now numberless dissolute roués, one and all of whom maintain that libidinous affections do not constitute lewdness; and who try, further, to prove that licentious love is not tantamount to lewdness. But all these arguments are mere apologies for their shortcomings, and a screen for their pollutions; for if libidinous affection be lewdness, still more does the perception of licentious love constitute lewdness. Hence it is that the indulgence of sensuality and the gratification of licentious affection originate entirely from a relish of lust, as well as from a hankering after licentious love. Lo you, who are the object of my love, are the most lewd being under the heavens from remote ages to the present time!" Pao-yü was quite dumbstruck by what he heard, and hastily smiling, he said by way of reply: "My Fairy labours under a misapprehension. Simply because of my reluctance to read my books my parents have, on repeated occasions, extended to me injunction and reprimand, and would I have the courage to go so far as to rashly plunge in lewd habits? Besides, I am still young in years, and have no notion what is implied by lewdness!" "Not so!" exclaimed the Fairy; "lewdness, although one thing in principle is, as far as meaning goes, subject to different constructions; as is exemplified by those in the world whose heart is set upon lewdness. Some delight solely in faces and figures; others find insatiable pleasure in singing and dancing; some in dalliance and raillery; others in the incessant indulgence of their lusts; and these regret that all the beautiful maidens under the heavens cannot minister to their short-lived pleasure. These several kinds of persons are foul objects steeped skin and all in lewdness. The lustful love, for instance, which has sprung to life and taken root in your natural affections, I and such as myself extend to it the character of an abstract lewdness; but abstract lewdness can be grasped by the mind, but cannot be transmitted by the mouth; can be fathomed by the spirit, but cannot be divulged in words. As you now are imbued with this desire only in the abstract, you are certainly well fit to be a trustworthy friend in (Fairyland) inner apartments, but, on the path of the mortal world, you will inevitably be misconstrued and defamed; every mouth will ridicule you; every eye will look down upon you with contempt. After meeting recently your worthy ancestors, the two Dukes of Ning and Jung, who opened their hearts and made their wishes known to me with such fervour, (but I will not have you solely on account of the splendour of our inner apartments look down despisingly upon the path of the world), I consequently led you along, my son, and inebriated you with luscious wines, steeped you in spiritual tea, and admonished you with excellent songs, bringing also here a young sister of mine, whose infant name is Chien Mei, and her style K'o Ching, to be given to you as your wedded wife. To-night, the time will be propitious and suitable for the immediate consummation of the union, with the express object of letting you have a certain insight into the fact that if the condition of the abode of spirits within the confines of Fairyland be still so (imperfect), how much the more so should be the nature of the affections which prevail in the dusty world; with the intent that from this time forth you should positively break loose from bondage, perceive and amend your former disposition, devote your attention to the works of Confucius and Mencius, and set your steady purpose upon the principles of morality." Having ended these remarks, she initiated him into the mysteries of licentious love, and, pushing Pao-yü into the room, she closed the door, and took her departure all alone. Pao-yü in a dazed state complied with the admonitions given him by the Fairy, and the natural result was, of course, a violent flirtation, the circumstances of which it would be impossible to recount. When the next day came, he was by that time so attached to her by ties of tender love and their conversation was so gentle and full of charm that he could not brook to part from K'o Ching. Hand-in-hand, the two of them therefore, went out for a stroll, when they unexpectedly reached a place, where nothing else met their gaze than thorns and brambles, which covered the ground, and a wolf and a tiger walking side by side. Before them stretched the course of a black stream, which obstructed their progress; and over this stream there was, what is more, no bridge to enable one to cross it. While they were exercising their minds with perplexity, they suddenly espied the Fairy coming from the back in pursuit of them. "Desist at once," she exclaimed, "from making any advance into the stream; it is urgent that you should, with all speed, turn your faces round!" Pao-yü lost no time in standing still. "What is this place?" he inquired. "This is the Ford of Enticement," explained the Fairy. "Its depth is ten thousand chang; its breadth is a thousand li; in its stream there are no boats or paddles by means of which to effect a passage. There is simply a raft, of which Mu Chu-shih directs the rudder, and which Hui Shih chen punts with the poles. They receive no compensation in the shape of gold or silver, but when they come across any one whose destiny it is to cross, they ferry him over. You now have by accident strolled as far as here, and had you fallen into the stream you would have rendered quite useless the advice and admonition which I previously gave you." These words were scarcely concluded, when suddenly was heard from the midst of the Ford of Enticement, a sound like unto a peal of thunder, whereupon a whole crowd of gobblins and sea-urchins laid hands upon Pao-yü and dragged him down. This so filled Pao-yü with consternation that he fell into a perspiration as profuse as rain, and he simultaneously broke forth and shouted, "Rescue me, K'o Ching!" These cries so terrified Hsi Jen and the other waiting-maids, that they rushed forward, and taking Pao-yü in their arms, "Don't be afraid, Pao-yü," they said, "we are here." But we must observe that Mrs. Ch'in was just inside the apartment in the act of recommending the young waiting-maids to be mindful that the cats and dogs did not start a fight, when she unawares heard Pao-yü, in his dream, call her by her infant name. In a melancholy mood she therefore communed within herself, "As far as my infant name goes, there is, in this establishment, no one who has any idea what it is, and how is it that he has come to know it, and that he utters it in his dream?" And she was at this period unable to fathom the reason. But, reader, listen to the explanations given in the chapter which follows. CHAPTER VI. Chia Pao-yü reaps his first experience in licentious love. Old Goody Liu pays a visit to the Jung Kuo Mansion. Mrs. Ch'in, to resume our narrative, upon hearing Pao-yü call her in his dream by her infant name, was at heart very exercised, but she did not however feel at liberty to make any minute inquiry. Pao-yü was, at this time, in such a dazed state, as if he had lost something, and the servants promptly gave him a decoction of lungngan. After he had taken a few sips, he forthwith rose and tidied his clothes. Hsi Jen put out her hand to fasten the band of his garment, and as soon as she did so, and it came in contact with his person, it felt so icy cold to the touch, covered as it was all over with perspiration, that she speedily withdrew her hand in utter surprise. "What's the matter with you?" she exclaimed. A blush suffused Pao-yü's face, and he took Hsi Jen's hand in a tight grip. Hsi Jen was a girl with all her wits about her; she was besides a couple of years older than Pao-yü and had recently come to know something of the world, so that at the sight of his state, she to a great extent readily accounted for the reason in her heart. From modest shame, she unconsciously became purple in the face, and not venturing to ask another question she continued adjusting his clothes. This task accomplished, she followed him over to old lady Chia's apartments; and after a hurry-scurry meal, they came back to this side, and Hsi Jen availed herself of the absence of the nurses and waiting-maids to hand Pao-yü another garment to change. "Please, dear Hsi Jen, don't tell any one," entreated Pao-yü, with concealed shame. "What did you dream of?" inquired Hsi Jen, smiling, as she tried to stifle her blushes, "and whence comes all this perspiration?" "It's a long story," said Pao-yü, "which only a few words will not suffice to explain." He accordingly recounted minutely, for her benefit, the subject of his dream. When he came to where the Fairy had explained to him the mysteries of love, Hsi Jen was overpowered with modesty and covered her face with her hands; and as she bent down, she gave way to a fit of laughter. Pao-yü had always been fond of Hsi Jen, on account of her gentleness, pretty looks and graceful and elegant manner, and he forthwith expounded to her all the mysteries he had been taught by the Fairy. Hsi Jen was, of course, well aware that dowager lady Chia had given her over to Pao-yü, so that her present behaviour was likewise no transgression. And subsequently she secretly attempted with Pao-yü a violent flirtation, and lucky enough no one broke in upon them during their tête-à-tête. From this date, Pao-yü treated Hsi Jen with special regard, far more than he showed to the other girls, while Hsi Jen herself was still more demonstrative in her attentions to Pao-yü. But for a time we will make no further remark about them. As regards the household of the Jung mansion, the inmates may, on adding up the total number, not have been found many; yet, counting the high as well as the low, there were three hundred persons and more. Their affairs may not have been very numerous, still there were, every day, ten and twenty matters to settle; in fact, the household resembled, in every way, ravelled hemp, devoid even of a clue-end, which could be used as an introduction. Just as we were considering what matter and what person it would be best to begin writing of, by a lucky coincidence suddenly from a distance of a thousand li, a person small and insignificant as a grain of mustard seed happened, on account of her distant relationship with the Jung family, to come on this very day to the Jung mansion on a visit. We shall therefore readily commence by speaking of this family, as it after all affords an excellent clue for a beginning. The surname of this mean and humble family was in point of fact Wang. They were natives of this district. Their ancestor had filled a minor office in the capital, and had, in years gone by, been acquainted with lady Feng's grandfather, that is madame Wang's father. Being covetous of the influence and affluence of the Wang family, he consequently joined ancestors with them, and was recognised by them as a nephew. At that time, there were only madame Wang's eldest brother, that is lady Feng's father, and madame Wang herself, who knew anything of these distant relations, from the fact of having followed their parents to the capital. The rest of the family had one and all no idea about them. This ancestor had, at this date, been dead long ago, leaving only one son called Wang Ch'eng. As the family estate was in a state of ruin, he once more moved outside the city walls and settled down in his native village. Wang Ch'eng also died soon after his father, leaving a son, known in his infancy as Kou Erh, who married a Miss Liu, by whom he had a son called by the infant name of Pan Erh, as well as a daughter, Ch'ing Erh. His family consisted of four, and he earned a living from farming. As Kou Erh was always busy with something or other during the day and his wife, dame Liu, on the other hand, drew the water, pounded the rice and attended to all the other domestic concerns, the brother and sister, Ch'ing Erh and Pan Erh, the two of them, had no one to look after them. (Hence it was that) Kou Erh brought over his mother-in-law, old goody Liu, to live with them. This goody Liu was an old widow, with a good deal of experience. She had besides no son round her knees, so that she was dependent for her maintenance on a couple of acres of poor land, with the result that when her son-in-law received her in his home, she naturally was ever willing to exert heart and mind to help her daughter and her son-in-law to earn their living. This year, the autumn had come to an end, winter had commenced, and the weather had begun to be quite cold. No provision had been made in the household for the winter months, and Kou Erh was, inevitably, exceedingly exercised in his heart. Having had several cups of wine to dispel his distress, he sat at home and tried to seize upon every trifle to give vent to his displeasure. His wife had not the courage to force herself in his way, and hence goody Liu it was who encouraged him, as she could not bear to see the state of the domestic affairs. "Don't pull me up for talking too much," she said; "but who of us country people isn't honest and open-hearted? As the size of the bowl we hold, so is the quantity of the rice we eat. In your young days, you were dependent on the support of your old father, so that eating and drinking became quite a habit with you; that's how, at the present time, your resources are quite uncertain; when you had money, you looked ahead, and didn't mind behind; and now that you have no money, you blindly fly into huffs. A fine fellow and a capital hero you have made! Living though we now be away from the capital, we are after all at the feet of the Emperor; this city of Ch'ang Ngan is strewn all over with money, but the pity is that there's no one able to go and fetch it away; and it's no use your staying at home and kicking your feet about." "All you old lady know," rejoined Kou Erh, after he had heard what she had to say, "is to sit on the couch and talk trash! Is it likely you would have me go and play the robber?" "Who tells you to become a robber?" asked goody Liu. "But it would be well, after all, that we should put our heads together and devise some means; for otherwise, is the money, pray, able of itself to run into our house?" "Had there been a way," observed Kou Erh, smiling sarcastically, "would I have waited up to this moment? I have besides no revenue collectors as relatives, or friends in official positions; and what way could we devise? 'But even had I any, they wouldn't be likely, I fear, to pay any heed to such as ourselves!" "That, too, doesn't follow," remarked goody Liu; "the planning of affairs rests with man, but the accomplishment of them rests with Heaven. After we have laid our plans, we may, who can say, by relying on the sustenance of the gods, find some favourable occasion. Leave it to me, I'll try and devise some lucky chance for you people! In years gone by, you joined ancestors with the Wang family of Chin Ling, and twenty years back, they treated you with consideration; but of late, you've been so high and mighty, and not condescended to go and bow to them, that an estrangement has arisen. I remember how in years gone by, I and my daughter paid them a visit. The second daughter of the family was really so pleasant and knew so well how to treat people with kindness, and without in fact any high airs! She's at present the wife of Mr. Chia, the second son of the Jung Kuo mansion; and I hear people say that now that she's advanced in years, she's still more considerate to the poor, regardful of the old, and very fond of preparing vegetable food for the bonzes and performing charitable deeds. The head of the Wang mansion has, it is true, been raised to some office on the frontier, but I hope that this lady Secunda will anyhow notice us. How is it then that you don't find your way as far as there; for she may possibly remember old times, and some good may, no one can say, come of it? I only wish that she would display some of her kind-heartedness, and pluck one hair from her person which would be, yea thicker than our waist." "What you suggest, mother, is quite correct," interposed Mrs. Liu, Kou Erh's wife, who stood by and took up the conversation, "but with such mouth and phiz as yours and mine, how could we present ourselves before her door? Why I fear that the man at her gate won't also like to go and announce us! and we'd better not go and have our mouths slapped in public!" Kou Erh, who would have thought it, prized highly both affluence and fame, so that when he heard these remarks, he forthwith began to feel at heart a little more at ease. When he furthermore heard what his wife had to say, he at once caught up the word as he smiled. "Old mother," he rejoined; "since that be your idea, and what's more, you have in days gone by seen this lady on one occasion, why shouldn't you, old lady, start to-morrow on a visit to her and first ascertain how the wind blows!" "Ai Ya!" exclaimed old Goody, "It may very well be said that the marquis' door is like the wide ocean! what sort of thing am I? why the servants of that family wouldn't even recognise me! even were I to go, it would be on a wild goose chase." "No matter about that," observed Kou Erh; "I'll tell you a good way; you just take along with you, your grandson, little Pan Erh, and go first and call upon Chou Jui, who is attached to that household; and when once you've seen him, there will be some little chance. This Chou Jui, at one time, was connected with my father in some affair or other, and we were on excellent terms with him." "That I too know," replied goody Liu, "but the thing is that you've had no dealings with him for so long, that who knows how he's disposed towards us now? this would be hard to say. Besides, you're a man, and with a mouth and phiz like that of yours, you couldn't, on any account, go on this errand. My daughter is a young woman, and she too couldn't very well go and expose herself to public gaze. But by my sacrificing this old face of mine, and by going and knocking it (against the wall) there may, after all, be some benefit and all of us might reap profit." That very same evening, they laid their plans, and the next morning before the break of day, old goody Liu speedily got up, and having performed her toilette, she gave a few useful hints to Pan Erh; who, being a child of five or six years of age, was, when he heard that he was to be taken into the city, at once so delighted that there was nothing that he would not agree to. Without further delay, goody Liu led off Pan Erh, and entered the city, and reaching the Ning Jung street, she came to the main entrance of the Jung mansion, where, next to the marble lions, were to be seen a crowd of chairs and horses. Goody Liu could not however muster the courage to go by, but having shaken her clothes, and said a few more seasonable words to Pan Erh, she subsequently squatted in front of the side gate, whence she could see a number of servants, swelling out their chests, pushing out their stomachs, gesticulating with their hands and kicking their feet about, while they were seated at the main entrance chattering about one thing and another. Goody Liu felt constrained to edge herself forward. "Gentlemen," she ventured, "may happiness betide you!" The whole company of servants scrutinised her for a time. "Where do you come from?" they at length inquired. "I've come to look up Mr. Chou, an attendant of my lady's," remarked goody Liu, as she forced a smile; "which of you, gentlemen, shall I trouble to do me the favour of asking him to come out?" The servants, after hearing what she had to say, paid, the whole number of them, no heed to her; and it was after the lapse of a considerable time that they suggested: "Go and wait at a distance, at the foot of that wall; and in a short while, the visitors, who are in their house, will be coming out." Among the party of attendants was an old man, who interposed, "Don't baffle her object," he expostulated; "why make a fool of her?" and turning to goody Liu: "This Mr. Chou," he said, "is gone south: his house is at the back row; his wife is anyhow at home; so go round this way, until you reach the door, at the back street, where, if you will ask about her, you will be on the right track." Goody Liu, having expressed her thanks, forthwith went, leading Pan Erh by the hand, round to the back door, where she saw several pedlars resting their burdens. There were also those who sold things to eat, and those who sold playthings and toys; and besides these, twenty or thirty boys bawled and shouted, making quite a noise. Goody Liu readily caught hold of one of them. "I'd like to ask you just a word, my young friend," she observed; "there's a Mrs. Chou here; is she at home?" "Which Mrs. Chou?" inquired the boy; "we here have three Mrs. Chous; and there are also two young married ladies of the name of Chou. What are the duties of the one you want, I wonder ?" "She's a waiting-woman of my lady," replied goody Liu. "It's easy to get at her," added the boy; "just come along with me." Leading the way for goody Liu into the backyard, they reached the wall of a court, when he pointed and said, "This is her house.--Mother Chou!" he went on to shout with alacrity; "there's an old lady who wants to see you." Chou Jui's wife was at home, and with all haste she came out to greet her visitor. "Who is it?" she asked. Goody Liu advanced up to her. "How are you," she inquired, "Mrs. Chou?" Mrs. Chou looked at her for some time before she at length smiled and replied, "Old goody Liu, are you well? How many years is it since we've seen each other; tell me, for I forget just now; but please come in and sit." "You're a lady of rank," answered goody Liu smiling, as she walked along, "and do forget many things. How could you remember such as ourselves?" With these words still in her mouth, they had entered the house, whereupon Mrs. Chou ordered a hired waiting-maid to pour the tea. While they were having their tea she remarked, "How Pan Erh has managed to grow!" and then went on to make inquiries on the subject of various matters, which had occurred after their separation. "To-day," she also asked of goody Liu, "were you simply passing by? or did you come with any express object?" "I've come, the fact is, with an object!" promptly replied goody Liu; "(first of all) to see you, my dear sister-in-law; and, in the second place also, to inquire after my lady's health. If you could introduce me to see her for a while, it would be better; but if you can't, I must readily borrow your good offices, my sister-in-law, to convey my message." Mr. Chou Jui's wife, after listening to these words, at once became to a great extent aware of the object of her visit. Her husband had, however, in years gone by in his attempt to purchase some land, obtained considerably the support of Kou Erh, so that when she, on this occasion, saw goody Liu in such a dilemma, she could not make up her mind to refuse her wish. Being in the second place keen upon making a display of her own respectability, she therefore said smilingly: "Old goody Liu, pray compose your mind! You've come from far off with a pure heart and honest purpose, and how can I ever not show you the way how to see this living Buddha? Properly speaking, when people come and guests arrive, and verbal messages have to be given, these matters are not any of my business, as we all here have each one kind of duties to carry out. My husband has the special charge of the rents of land coming in, during the two seasons of spring and autumn, and when at leisure, he takes the young gentlemen out of doors, and then his business is done. As for myself, I have to accompany my lady and young married ladies on anything connected with out-of-doors; but as you are a relative of my lady and have besides treated me as a high person and come to me for help, I'll, after all, break this custom and deliver your message. There's only one thing, however, and which you, old lady, don't know. We here are not what we were five years before. My lady now doesn't much worry herself about anything; and it's entirely lady Secunda who looks after the menage. But who do you presume is this lady Secunda? She's the niece of my lady, and the daughter of my master, the eldest maternal uncle of by-gone days. Her infant name was Feng Ko." "Is it really she?" inquired promptly goody Liu, after this explanation. "Isn't it strange? what I said about her years back has come out quite correct; but from all you say, shall I to-day be able to see her?" "That goes without saying," replied Chou Jui's wife; "when any visitors come now-a-days, it's always lady Feng who does the honours and entertains them, and it's better to-day that you should see her for a while, for then you will not have walked all this way to no purpose." "O mi to fu!" exclaimed old goody Liu; "I leave it entirely to your convenience, sister-in-law." "What's that you're saying?" observed Chou Jui's wife. "The proverb says: 'Our convenience is the convenience of others.' All I have to do is to just utter one word, and what trouble will that be to me." Saying this, she bade the young waiting maid go to the side pavilion, and quietly ascertain whether, in her old ladyship's apartment, table had been laid. The young waiting-maid went on this errand, and during this while, the two of them continued a conversation on certain irrelevant matters. "This lady Feng," observed goody Liu, "can this year be no older than twenty, and yet so talented as to manage such a household as this! the like of her is not easy to find!" "Hai! my dear old goody," said Chou Jui's wife, after listening to her, "it's not easy to explain; but this lady Feng, though young in years, is nevertheless, in the management of affairs, superior to any man. She has now excelled the others and developed the very features of a beautiful young woman. To say the least, she has ten thousand eyes in her heart, and were they willing to wager their mouths, why ten men gifted with eloquence couldn't even outdo her! But by and bye, when you've seen her, you'll know all about her! There's only this thing, she can't help being rather too severe in her treatment of those below her." While yet she spake, the young waiting-maid returned. "In her venerable lady's apartment," she reported, "repast has been spread, and already finished; lady Secunda is in madame Wang's chamber." As soon as Chou Jui's wife heard this news, she speedily got up and pressed goody Liu to be off at once. "This is," she urged, "just the hour for her meal, and as she is free we had better first go and wait for her; for were we to be even one step too late, a crowd of servants will come with their reports, and it will then be difficult to speak to her; and after her siesta, she'll have still less time to herself." As she passed these remarks, they all descended the couch together. Goody Liu adjusted their dresses, and, having impressed a few more words of advice on Pan Erh, they followed Chou Jui's wife through winding passages to Chia Lien's house. They came in the first instance into the side pavilion, where Chou Jui's wife placed old goody Liu to wait a little, while she herself went ahead, past the screen-wall and into the entrance of the court. Hearing that lady Feng had not come out, she went in search of an elderly waiting-maid of lady Feng, P'ing Erh by name, who enjoyed her confidence, to whom Chou Jui's wife first recounted from beginning to end the history of old goody Liu. "She has come to-day," she went on to explain, "from a distance to pay her obeisance. In days gone by, our lady used often to meet her, so that, on this occasion, she can't but receive her; and this is why I've brought her in! I'll wait here for lady Feng to come down, and explain everything to her; and I trust she'll not call me to task for officious rudeness." P'ing Erh, after hearing what she had to say, speedily devised the plan of asking them to walk in, and to sit there pending (lady Feng's arrival), when all would be right. Chou Jui's wife thereupon went out and led them in. When they ascended the steps of the main apartment, a young waiting-maid raised a red woollen portière, and as soon as they entered the hall, they smelt a whiff of perfume as it came wafted into their faces: what the scent was they could not discriminate; but their persons felt as if they were among the clouds. The articles of furniture and ornaments in the whole room were all so brilliant to the sight, and so vying in splendour that they made the head to swim and the eyes to blink, and old goody Liu did nothing else the while than nod her head, smack her lips and invoke Buddha. Forthwith she was led to the eastern side into the suite of apartments, where was the bedroom of Chia Lien's eldest daughter. P'ing Erh, who was standing by the edge of the stove-couch, cast a couple of glances at old goody Liu, and felt constrained to inquire how she was, and to press her to have a seat. Goody Liu, noticing that P'ing Erh was entirely robed in silks, that she had gold pins fixed in her hair, and silver ornaments in her coiffure, and that her countenance resembled a flower or the moon (in beauty), readily imagined her to be lady Feng, and was about to address her as my lady; but when she heard Mrs. Chou speak to her as Miss P'ing, and P'ing Erh promptly address Chou Jui's wife as Mrs. Chou, she eventually became aware that she could be no more than a waiting-maid of a certain respectability. She at once pressed old goody Liu and Pan Erh to take a seat on the stove-couch. P'ing Erh and Chou Jui's wife sat face to face, on the edges of the couch. The waiting-maids brought the tea. After they had partaken of it, old goody Liu could hear nothing but a "lo tang, lo tang" noise, resembling very much the sound of a bolting frame winnowing flour, and she could not resist looking now to the East, and now to the West. Suddenly in the great Hall, she espied, suspended on a pillar, a box at the bottom of which hung something like the weight of a balance, which incessantly wagged to and fro. "What can this thing be?" communed goody Liu in her heart, "What can be its use?" While she was aghast, she unexpectedly heard a sound of "tang" like the sound of a golden bell or copper cymbal, which gave her quite a start. In a twinkle of the eyes followed eight or nine consecutive strokes; and she was bent upon inquiring what it was, when she caught sight of several waiting-maids enter in a confused crowd. "Our lady has come down!" they announced. P'ìng Erh, together with Chou Jui's wife, rose with all haste. "Old goody Liu," they urged, "do sit down and wait till it's time, when we'll come and ask you in." Saying this, they went out to meet lady Feng. Old goody Liu, with suppressed voice and ear intent, waited in perfect silence. She heard at a distance the voices of some people laughing, whereupon about ten or twenty women, with rustling clothes and petticoats, made their entrance, one by one, into the hall, and thence into the room on the other quarter. She also detected two or three women, with red-lacquered boxes in their hands, come over on this part and remain in waiting. "Get the repast ready!" she heard some one from the offside say. The servants gradually dispersed and went out; and there only remained in attendance a few of them to bring in the courses. For a long time, not so much as the caw of a crow could be heard, when she unexpectedly perceived two servants carry in a couch-table, and lay it on this side of the divan. Upon this table were placed bowls and plates, in proper order replete, as usual, with fish and meats; but of these only a few kinds were slightly touched. As soon as Pan Erh perceived (all these delicacies), he set up such a noise, and would have some meat to eat, but goody Liu administered to him such a slap, that he had to keep away. Suddenly, she saw Mrs. Chou approach, full of smiles, and as she waved her hand, she called her. Goody Liu understood her meaning, and at once pulling Pan Erh off the couch, she proceeded to the centre of the Hall; and after Mrs. Chou had whispered to her again for a while, they came at length with slow step into the room on this side, where they saw on the outside of the door, suspended by brass hooks, a deep red flowered soft portière. Below the window, on the southern side, was a stove-couch, and on this couch was spread a crimson carpet. Leaning against the wooden partition wall, on the east side, stood a chain-embroidered back-cushion and a reclining pillow. There was also spread a large watered satin sitting cushion with a gold embroidered centre, and on the side stood cuspidores made of silver. Lady Feng, when at home, usually wore on her head a front-piece of dark martin à la Chao Chün, surrounded with tassels of strung pearls. She had on a robe of peach-red flowered satin, a short pelisse of slate-blue stiff silk, lined with squirrel, and a jupe of deep red foreign crepe, lined with ermine. Resplendent with pearl-powder and with cosmetics, she sat in there, stately and majestic, with a small brass poker in her hands, with which she was stirring the ashes of the hand-stove. P'ing Erh stood by the side of the couch, holding a very small lacquered tea-tray. In this tray was a small tea-cup with a cover. Lady Feng neither took any tea, nor did she raise her head, but was intent upon stirring the ashes of the hand-stove. "How is it you haven't yet asked her to come in?" she slowly inquired; and as she spake, she turned herself round and was about to ask for some tea, when she perceived that Mrs. Chou had already introduced the two persons and that they were standing in front of her. She forthwith pretended to rise, but did not actually get up, and with a face radiant with smiles, she ascertained about their health, after which she went in to chide Chou Jui's wife. "Why didn't you tell me they had come before?" she said. Old goody Liu was already by this time prostrated on the ground, and after making several obeisances, "How are you, my lady?" she inquired. "Dear Mrs. Chou," lady Feng immediately observed, "do pull her up, and don't let her prostrate herself! I'm yet young in years and don't know her much; what's more, I've no idea what's the degree of the relationship between us, and I daren't speak directly to her." "This is the old lady about whom I spoke a short while back," speedily explained Mrs. Chou. Lady Feng nodded her head assentingly. By this time old goody Liu had taken a seat on the edge of the stove-couch. As for Pan Erh, he had gone further, and taken refuge behind her back; and though she tried, by every means, to coax him to come forward and make a bow, he would not, for the life of him, consent. "Relatives though we be," remarked lady Feng, as she smiled, "we haven't seen much of each other, so that our relations have been quite distant. But those who know how matters stand will assert that you all despise us, and won't often come to look us up; while those mean people, who don't know the truth, will imagine that we have no eyes to look at any one." Old goody Liu promptly invoked Buddha. "We are at home in great straits," she pleaded, "and that's why it wasn't easy for us to manage to get away and come! Even supposing we had come as far as this, had we not given your ladyship a slap on the mouth, those gentlemen would also, in point of fact, have looked down upon us as a mean lot." "Why, language such as this," exclaimed lady Feng smilingly, "cannot help making one's heart full of displeasure! We simply rely upon the reputation of our grandfather to maintain the status of a penniless official; that's all! Why, in whose household is there anything substantial? we are merely the denuded skeleton of what we were in days of old, and no more! As the proverb has it: The Emperor himself has three families of poverty-stricken relatives; and how much more such as you and I?" Having passed these remarks, she inquired of Mrs. Chou, "Have you let madame know, yes or no?" "We are now waiting," replied Mrs. Chou, "for my lady's orders." "Go and have a look," said lady Feng; "but, should there be any one there, or should she be busy, then don't make any mention; but wait until she's free, when you can tell her about it and see what she says." Chou Jui's wife, having expressed her compliance, went off on this errand. During her absence, lady Feng gave orders to some servants to take a few fruits and hand them to Pan Erh to eat; and she was inquiring about one thing and another, when there came a large number of married women, who had the direction of affairs in the household, to make their several reports. P'ing Erh announced their arrival to lady Feng, who said: "I'm now engaged in entertaining some guests, so let them come back again in the evening; but should there be anything pressing then bring it in and I'll settle it at once." P'ing Erh left the room, but she returned in a short while. "I've asked them," she observed, "but as there's nothing of any urgency, I told them to disperse." Lady Feng nodded her head in token of approval, when she perceived Chou Jui's wife come back. "Our lady," she reported, as she addressed lady Feng, "says that she has no leisure to-day, that if you, lady Secunda, will entertain them, it will come to the same thing; that she's much obliged for their kind attention in going to the trouble of coming; that if they have come simply on a stroll, then well and good, but that if they have aught to say, they should tell you, lady Secunda, which will be tantamount to their telling her." "I've nothing to say," interposed old goody Liu. "I simply come to see our elder and our younger lady, which is a duty on my part, a relative as I am." "Well, if there's nothing particular that you've got to say, all right," Mrs. Chou forthwith added, "but if you do have anything, don't hesitate telling lady Secunda, and it will be just as if you had told our lady." As she uttered these words, she winked at goody Liu. Goody Liu understood what she meant, but before she could give vent to a word, her face got scarlet, and though she would have liked not to make any mention of the object of her visit, she felt constrained to suppress her shame and to speak out. "Properly speaking," she observed, "this being the first time I see you, my lady, I shouldn't mention what I've to say, but as I come here from far off to seek your assistance, my old friend, I have no help but to mention it." She had barely spoken as much as this, when she heard the youths at the inner-door cry out: "The young gentleman from the Eastern Mansion has come." Lady Feng promptly interrupted her. "Old goody Liu," she remarked, "you needn't add anything more." She, at the same time, inquired, "Where's your master, Mr. Jung?" when became audible the sound of footsteps along the way, and in walked a young man of seventeen or eighteen. His appearance was handsome, his person slender and graceful. He had on light furs, a girdle of value, costly clothes and a beautiful cap. At this stage, goody Liu did not know whether it was best to sit down or to stand up, neither could she find anywhere to hide herself. "Pray sit down," urged lady Feng, with a laugh; "this is my nephew!' Old goody Liu then wriggled herself, now one way, and then another, on to the edge of the couch, where she took a seat. "My father," Chia Jung smilingly ventured, "has sent me to ask a favour of you, aunt. On some previous occasion, our grand aunt gave you, dear aunt, a stove-couch glass screen, and as to-morrow father has invited some guests of high standing, he wishes to borrow it to lay it out for a little show; after which he purposes sending it back again." "You're late by a day," replied lady Feng. "It was only yesterday that I gave it to some one." Chia Jung, upon hearing this, forthwith, with giggles and smiles, made, near the edge of the couch, a sort of genuflexion. "Aunt," he went on, "if you don't lend it, father will again say that I don't know how to speak, and I shall get another sound thrashing. You must have pity upon your nephew, aunt." "I've never seen anything like this," observed lady Feng sneeringly; "the things belonging to the Wang family are all good, but where have you put all those things of yours? the only good way is that you shouldn't see anything of ours, for as soon as you catch sight of anything, you at once entertain a wish to carry it off." "Pray, aunt," entreated Chia Jung with a smile, "do show me some compassion." "Mind your skin!" lady Feng warned him, "if you do chip or spoil it in the least." She then bade P'ing Erh take the keys of the door of the upstairs room and send for several trustworthy persons to carry it away. Chia Jung was so elated that his eyebrows dilated and his eyes smiled. "I've brought myself," he added, with vehemence, "some men to take it away; I won't let them recklessly bump it about." Saying this, he speedily got up and left the room. Lady Feng suddenly bethought herself of something, and turning towards the window, she called out, "Jung Erh, come back." Several servants who stood outside caught up her words: "Mr. Jung," they cried, "you're requested to go back;" whereupon Chia Jung turned round and retraced his steps; and with hands drooping respectfully against his sides, he stood ready to listen to his aunt's wishes. Lady Feng was however intent upon gently sipping her tea, and after a good long while of abstraction, she at last smiled: "Never mind," she remarked; "you can go. But come after you've had your evening meal, and I'll then tell you about it. Just now there are visitors here; and besides, I don't feel in the humour." Chia Jung thereupon retired with gentle step. Old goody Liu, by this time, felt more composed in body and heart. "I've to-day brought your nephew," she then explained, "not for anything else, but because his father and mother haven't at home so much as anything to eat; the weather besides is already cold, so that I had no help but to take your nephew along and come to you, old friend, for assistance!" As she uttered these words, she again pushed Pan Erh forward. "What did your father at home tell you to say?" she asked of him; "and what did he send us over here to do? Was it only to give our minds to eating fruit?" Lady Feng had long ago understood what she meant to convey, and finding that she had no idea how to express herself in a decent manner, she readily interrupted her with a smile. "You needn't mention anything," she observed, "I'm well aware of how things stand;" and addressing herself to Mrs. Chou, she inquired, "Has this old lady had breakfast, yes or no?" Old goody Liu hurried to explain. "As soon as it was daylight," she proceeded, "we started with all speed on our way here, and had we even so much as time to have any breakfast?" Lady Feng promptly gave orders to send for something to eat. In a short while Chou Jui's wife had called for a table of viands for the guests, which was laid in the room on the eastern side, and then came to take goody Liu and Pan Erh over to have their repast. "My dear Mrs. Chou," enjoined lady Feng, "give them all they want, as I can't attend to them myself;" which said, they hastily passed over into the room on the eastern side. Lady Feng having again called Mrs. Chou, asked her: "When you first informed madame about them, what did she say?" "Our Lady observed," replied Chou Jui's wife, "that they don't really belong to the same family; that, in former years, their grandfather was an official at the same place as our old master; that hence it came that they joined ancestors; that these few years there hasn't been much intercourse (between their family and ours); that some years back, whenever they came on a visit, they were never permitted to go empty-handed, and that as their coming on this occasion to see us is also a kind attention on their part, they shouldn't be slighted. If they've anything to say," (our lady continued), "tell lady Secunda to do the necessary, and that will be right." "Isn't it strange!" exclaimed lady Feng, as soon as she had heard the message; "since we are all one family, how is it I'm not familiar even with so much as their shadow?" While she was uttering these words, old goody Liu had had her repast and come over, dragging Pan Erh; and, licking her lips and smacking her mouth, she expressed her thanks. Lady Feng smiled. "Do pray sit down," she said, "and listen to what I'm going to tell you. What you, old lady, meant a little while back to convey, I'm already as much as yourself well acquainted with! Relatives, as we are, we shouldn't in fact have waited until you came to the threshold of our doors, but ought, as is but right, to have attended to your needs. But the thing is that, of late, the household affairs are exceedingly numerous, and our lady, advanced in years as she is, couldn't at a moment, it may possibly be, bethink herself of you all! What's more, when I took over charge of the management of the menage, I myself didn't know of all these family connections! Besides, though to look at us from outside everything has a grand and splendid aspect, people aren't aware that large establishments have such great hardships, which, were we to recount to others, they would hardly like to credit as true. But since you've now come from a great distance, and this is the first occasion that you open your mouth to address me, how can I very well allow you to return to your home with empty hands! By a lucky coincidence our lady gave, yesterday, to the waiting-maids, twenty taels to make clothes with, a sum which they haven't as yet touched, and if you don't despise it as too little, you may take it home as a first instalment, and employ it for your wants." When old goody Liu heard the mention made by lady Feng of their hardships, she imagined that there was no hope; but upon hearing her again speak of giving her twenty taels, she was exceedingly delighted, so much so that her eyebrows dilated and her eyes gleamed with smiles. "We too know," she smilingly remarked, "all about difficulties! but the proverb says, 'A camel dying of leanness is even bigger by much than a horse!' No matter what those distresses may be, were you yet to pluck one single hair from your body, my old friend, it would be stouter than our own waist." Chou Jui's wife stood by, and on hearing her make these coarse utterances, she did all she could to give her a hint by winking, and make her desist. Lady Feng laughed and paid no heed; but calling P'ing Erh, she bade her fetch the parcel of money, which had been given to them the previous day, and to also bring a string of cash; and when these had been placed before goody Liu's eyes: "This is," said lady Feng, "silver to the amount of twenty taels, which was for the time given to these young girls to make winter clothes with; but some other day, when you've nothing to do, come again on a stroll, in evidence of the good feeling which should exist between relatives. It's besides already late, and I don't wish to detain you longer and all for no purpose; but, on your return home, present my compliments to all those of yours to whom I should send them." As she spake, she stood up. Old goody Liu gave utterance to a thousand and ten thousand expressions of gratitude, and taking the silver and cash, she followed Chou Jui's wife on her way to the out-houses. "Well, mother dear," inquired Mrs. Chou, "what did you think of my lady that you couldn't speak; and that whenever you opened your mouth it was all 'your nephew.' I'll make just one remark, and I don't mind if you do get angry. Had he even been your kindred nephew, you should in fact have been somewhat milder in your language; for that gentleman, Mr. Jung, is her kith and kin nephew, and whence has appeared such another nephew of hers (as Pan Erh)?" Old goody Liu smiled. "My dear sister-in-law," she replied, "as I gazed upon her, were my heart and eyes, pray, full of admiration or not? and how then could I speak as I should?" As they were chatting, they reached Chou Jui's house. They had been sitting for a while, when old goody Liu produced a piece of silver, which she was purposing to leave behind, to be given to the young servants in Chou Jui's house to purchase fruit to eat; but how could Mrs. Chou satiate her eye with such a small piece of silver? She was determined in her refusal to accept it, so that old goody Liu, after assuring her of her boundless gratitude, took her departure out of the back gate she had come in from. Reader, you do not know what happened after old goody Liu left, but listen to the explanation which will be given in the next chapter. CHAPTER VII. Presentation of artificial flowers made in the Palace. Chia Lien disports himself with Hsi-feng. Pao-yü meets Ch'in Chung at a family party. To resume our narrative. Chou Jui's wife having seen old goody Liu off, speedily came to report the visit to madame Wang; but, contrary to her expectation, she did not find madame Wang in the drawing-room; and it was after inquiring of the waiting-maids that she eventually learnt that she had just gone over to have a chat with "aunt" Hsüeh. Mrs. Chou, upon hearing this, hastily went out by the eastern corner door, and through the yard on the east, into the Pear Fragrance Court. As soon as she reached the entrance, she caught sight of madame Wang's waiting-maid, Chin Ch'uan-erh, playing about on the terrace steps, with a young girl, who had just let her hair grow. When they saw Chou Jui's wife approach, they forthwith surmised that she must have some message to deliver, so they pursed up their lips and directed her to the inner-room. Chou Jui's wife gently raised the curtain-screen, and upon entering discovered madame Wang, in voluble conversation with "aunt" Hsüeh, about family questions and people in general. Mrs. Chou did not venture to disturb them, and accordingly came into the inner room, where she found Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai in a house dress, with her hair simply twisted into a knot round the top of the head, sitting on the inner edge of the stove-couch, leaning on a small divan table, in the act of copying a pattern for embroidery, with the waiting-maid Ying Erh. When she saw her enter, Pao Ch'ai hastily put down her pencil, and turning round with a face beaming with smiles, "Sister Chou," she said, "take a seat." Chou Jui's wife likewise promptly returned the smile. "How is my young lady?" she inquired, as she sat down on the edge of the couch. "I haven't seen you come over on the other side for two or three days! Has Mr. Pao-yü perhaps given you offence?" "What an idea!" exclaimed Pao Ch'ai, with a smile. "It's simply that I've had for the last couple of days my old complaint again, and that I've in consequence kept quiet all this time, and looked after myself." "Is that it?" asked Chou Jui's wife; "but after all, what rooted kind of complaint are you subject to, miss? you should lose really no time in sending for a doctor to diagnose it, and give you something to make you all right. With your tender years, to have an organic ailment is indeed no trifle!" Pao Ch'ai laughed when she heard these remarks. "Pray," she said, "don't allude to this again; for this ailment of mine I've seen, I can't tell you, how many doctors; taken no end of medicine and spent I don't know how much money; but the more we did so, not the least little bit of relief did I see. Lucky enough, we eventually came across a bald-pated bonze, whose speciality was the cure of nameless illnesses. We therefore sent for him to see me, and he said that I had brought this along with me from the womb as a sort of inflammatory virus, that luckily I had a constitution strong and hale so that it didn't matter; and that it would be of no avail if I took pills or any medicines. He then told me a prescription from abroad, and gave me also a packet of a certain powder as a preparative, with a peculiar smell and strange flavour. He advised me, whenever my complaint broke out, to take a pill, which would be sure to put me right again. And this has, after all, strange to say, done me a great deal of good." "What kind of prescription is this one from abroad, I wonder," remarked Mrs. Chou; "if you, miss, would only tell me, it would be worth our while bearing it in mind, and recommending it to others: and if ever we came across any one afflicted with this disease, we would also be doing a charitable deed." "You'd better not ask for the prescription," rejoined Pao Ch'ai smiling. "Why, its enough to wear one out with perplexity! the necessaries and ingredients are few, and all easy to get, but it would be difficult to find the lucky moment! You want twelve ounces of the pollen of the white peone, which flowers in spring, twelve ounces of the pollen of the white summer lily, twelve ounces of the pollen of the autumn hibiscus flower, and twelve ounces of the white plum in bloom in the winter. You take the four kinds of pollen, and put them in the sun, on the very day of the vernal equinox of the succeeding year to get dry, and then you mix them with the powder and pound them well together. You again want twelve mace of water, fallen on 'rain water' day....." "Good gracious!" exclaimed Mrs. Chou promptly, as she laughed. "From all you say, why you want three years' time! and what if no rain falls on 'rain water' day! What would one then do?" "Quite so!" Pao Ch'ai remarked smilingly; "how can there be such an opportune rain on that very day! but to wait is also the best thing, there's nothing else to be done. Besides, you want twelve mace of dew, collected on 'White Dew' day, and twelve mace of the hoar frost, gathered on 'Frost Descent' day, and twelve mace of snow, fallen on 'Slight Snow' day! You next take these four kinds of waters and mix them with the other ingredients, and make pills of the size of a lungngan. You keep them in an old porcelain jar, and bury them under the roots of some flowers; and when the ailment betrays itself, you produce it and take a pill, washing it down with two candareens of a yellow cedar decoction." "O-mi-to-fu!" cried Mrs. Chou, when she heard all this, bursting out laughing. "It's really enough to kill one! you might wait ten years and find no such lucky moments!" "Fortunate for me, however," pursued Pao Ch'ai, "in the course of a year or two, after the bonze had told me about this prescription, we got all the ingredients; and, after much trouble, we compounded a supply, which we have now brought along with us from the south to the north; and lies at present under the pear trees." "Has this medicine any name or other of its own?" further inquired Mrs. Chou. "It has a name," replied Pao Ch'ai; "the mangy-headed bonze also told it me; he called it 'cold fragrance' pill." Chou Jui's wife nodded her head, as she heard these words. "What do you feel like after all when this complaint manifests itself?" she went on to ask. "Nothing much," replied Pao Ch'ai; "I simply pant and cough a bit; but after I've taken a pill, I get over it, and it's all gone." Mrs. Chou was bent upon making some further remark, when madame Wang was suddenly heard to enquire, "Who is in here?" Mrs. Chou went out hurriedly and answered; and forthwith told her all about old goody Liu's visit. Having waited for a while, and seeing that madame Wang had nothing to say, she was on the point of retiring, when "aunt" Hsueh unexpectedly remarked smiling: "Wait a bit! I've something to give you to take along with you." And as she spoke, she called for Hsiang Ling. The sound of the screen-board against the sides of the door was heard, and in walked the waiting-maid, who had been playing with Chin Ch'uan-erh. "Did my lady call?" she asked. "Bring that box of flowers," said Mrs. Hsueh. Hsiang Ling assented, and brought from the other side a small embroidered silk box. "These," explained "aunt" Hsüeh, "are a new kind of flowers, made in the palace. They consist of twelve twigs of flowers of piled gauze. I thought of them yesterday, and as they will, the pity is, only get old, if uselessly put away, why not give them to the girls to wear them in their hair! I meant to have sent them over yesterday, but I forgot all about them. You come to-day most opportunely, and if you will take them with you, I shall have got them off my hands. To the three young ladies in your family give two twigs each, and of the six that will remain give a couple to Miss Lin, and the other four to lady Feng." "Better keep them and give them to your daughter Pao Ch'ai to wear," observed madame Wang, "and have done with it; why think of all the others?" "You don't know, sister," replied "aunt" Hsüeh, "what a crotchety thing Pao Ch'ai is! she has no liking for flower or powder." With these words on her lips, Chou Jui's wife took the box and walked out of the door of the room. Perceiving that Chin Ch'uan-erh was still sunning herself outside, Chou Jui's wife asked her: "Isn't this Hsiang Ling, the waiting-maid that we've often heard of as having been purchased just before the departure of the Hsüeh family for the capital, and on whose account there occurred some case of manslaughter or other?" "Of course it's she," replied Chin Ch'uan. But as they were talking, they saw Hsiang Ling draw near smirkingly, and Chou Jui's wife at once seized her by the hand, and after minutely scrutinizing her face for a time, she turned round to Chin Ch'uan-erh and smiled. "With these features she really resembles slightly the style of lady Jung of our Eastern Mansion." "So I too maintain!" said Chin Ch'uan-erh. Chou Jui's wife then asked Hsiang Ling, "At what age did you enter this family? and where are your father and mother at present?" and also inquired, "In what year of your teens are you? and of what place are you a native?" But Hsiang Ling, after listening to all these questions, simply nodded her head and replied, "I can't remember." When Mrs. Chou and Chin Ch'uan-erh heard these words, their spirits changed to grief, and for a while they felt affected and wounded at heart; but in a short time, Mrs. Chou brought the flowers into the room at the back of madame Wang's principal apartment. The fact is that dowager lady Chia had explained that as her granddaughters were too numerous, it would not be convenient to crowd them together in one place, that Pao-yü and Tai-yü should only remain with her in this part to break her loneliness, but that Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, and Hsi Ch'un, the three of them, should move on this side in the three rooms within the antechamber, at the back of madame lady Wang's quarters; and that Li Wan should be told off to be their attendant and to keep an eye over them. Chou Jui's wife, therefore, on this occasion came first to these rooms as they were on her way, but she only found a few waiting-maids assembled in the antechamber, waiting silently to obey a call. Ying Ch'un's waiting-maid, Ssu Chi, together with Shih Shu, T'an Ch'un's waiting-maid, just at this moment raised the curtain, and made their egress, each holding in her hand a tea-cup and saucer; and Chou Jui's wife readily concluding that the young ladies were sitting together also walked into the inner room, where she only saw Ying Ch'un and T'an Ch'un seated near the window, in the act of playing chess. Mrs. Chou presented the flowers and explained whence they came, and what they were. The girls forthwith interrupted their game, and both with a curtsey, expressed their thanks, and directed the waiting-maids to put the flowers away. Mrs. Chou complied with their wishes (and handing over the flowers); "Miss Hsi Ch'un," she remarked, "is not at home; and possibly she's over there with our old lady." "She's in that room, isn't she?" inquired the waiting-maids. Mrs. Chou at these words readily came into the room on this side, where she found Hsi Ch'un, in company with a certain Chih Neng, a young nun of the "moon reflected on water" convent, talking and laughing together. On seeing Chou Jui's wife enter, Hsi Ch'un at once asked what she wanted, whereupon Chou Jui's wife opened the box of flowers, and explained who had sent them. "I was just telling Chih Neng," remarked Hsi Ch'un laughing, "that I also purpose shortly shaving my head and becoming a nun; and strange enough, here you again bring me flowers; but supposing I shave my head, where can I wear them?" They were all very much amused for a time with this remark, and Hsi Ch'un told her waiting-maid, Ju Hua, to come and take over the flowers. "What time did you come over?" then inquired Mrs. Chou of Chih Neng. "Where is that bald-pated and crotchety superior of yours gone?" "We came," explained Chih Neng, "as soon as it was day; after calling upon madame Wang, my superior went over to pay a visit in the mansion of Mr. Yü, and told me to wait for her here." "Have you received," further asked Mrs. Chou, "the monthly allowance for incense offering due on the fifteenth or not?" "I can't say," replied Chih Neng. "Who's now in charge of the issue of the monthly allowances to the various temples?" interposed Hsi Ch'un, addressing Mrs. Chou, as soon as she heard what was said. "It's Yü Hsin," replied Chou Jui's wife, "who's intrusted with the charge." "That's how it is," observed Hsi Ch'un with a chuckle; "soon after the arrival of the Superior, Yü Hsin's wife came over and kept on whispering with her for some time; so I presume it must have been about this allowance." Mrs. Chou then went on to bandy a few words with Chih Neng, after which she came over to lady Feng's apartments. Proceeding by a narrow passage, she passed under Li Wan's back windows, and went along the wall ornamented with creepers on the west. Going out of the western side gate, she entered lady Feng's court, and walked over into the Entrance Hall, where she only found the waiting-girl Feng Erh, sitting on the doorsteps of lady Feng's apartments. When she caught sight of Mrs. Chou approaching, she at once waved her hand, bidding her go to the eastern room. Chou Jui's wife understood her meaning, and hastily came on tiptoe to the chamber on the east, where she saw a nurse patting lady Feng's daughter to sleep. Mrs. Chou promptly asked the nurse in a low tone of voice: "Is the young lady asleep at this early hour? But if even she is I must wake her up." The nurse nodded her head in assent, but as these inquiries were being made, a sound of laughter came from over the other side, in which lady Feng's voice could be detected; followed, shortly after, by the sound of a door opening, and out came P'ing Erh, with a large brass basin in her hands, which she told Feng Erh to fill with water and take inside. P'ing Erh forthwith entered the room on this side, and upon perceiving Chou Jui's wife: "What have you come here again for, my old lady?" she readily inquired. Chou Jui's wife rose without any delay, and handed her the box. "I've come," said she, "to bring you a present of flowers." Upon hearing this, P'ing Erh opened the box, and took out four sprigs, and, turning round, walked out of the room. In a short while she came from the inner room with two sprigs in her hand, and calling first of all Ts'ai Ming, she bade her take the flowers over to the mansion on the other side and present them to "madame" Jung, after which she asked Mrs. Chou to express her thanks on her return. Chou Jui's wife thereupon came over to dowager lady Chia's room on this side of the compound, and as she was going through the Entrance Hall, she casually came, face to face, with her daughter, got up in gala dress, just coming from the house of her mother-in-law. "What are you running over here for at this time?" promptly inquired Mrs. Chou. "Have you been well of late, mother?" asked her daughter. "I've been waiting for ever so long at home, but you never come out! What's there so pressing that has prevented you from returning home? I waited till I was tired, and then went on all alone, and paid my respects to our venerable lady; I'm now, on my way to inquire about our lady Wang. What errand haven't you delivered as yet, ma; and what is it you're holding?" "Ai! as luck would have it," rejoined Chou Jui's wife smilingly, "old goody Liu came over to-day, so that besides my own hundred and one duties, I've had to run about here and there ever so long, and all for her! While attending to these, Mrs. Hsueh came across me, and asked me to take these flowers to the young ladies, and I've been at it up to this very moment, and haven't done yet! But coming at this time, you must surely have something or other that you want me to do for you! what's it?" "Really ma, you're quick at guessing!" exclaimed her daughter with a smile; "I'll tell you what it's all about. The day before yesterday, your son-in-law had a glass of wine too many, and began altercating with some person or other; and some one, I don't know why, spread some evil report, saying that his antecedents were not clear, and lodged a charge against him at the Yamen, pressing the authorities to deport him to his native place. That's why I've come over to consult with you, as to whom we should appeal to, to do us this favour of helping us out of our dilemma!" "I knew at once," Mrs. Chou remarked after listening, "that there was something wrong; but this is nothing hard to settle! Go home and wait for me and I'll come straightway, as soon as I've taken these flowers to Miss Lin; our madame Wang and lady Secunda have both no leisure (to attend to you now,) so go back and wait for me! What's the use of so much hurry!" Her daughter, upon hearing this, forthwith turned round to go back, when she added as she walked away, "Mind, mother, and make haste." "All right," replied Chou Jui's wife, "of course I will; you are young yet, and without experience, and that's why you are in this flurry." As she spoke, she betook herself into Tai-yü's apartments. Contrary to her expectation Tai-yü was not at this time in her own room, but in Pao-yü's; where they were amusing themselves in trying to solve the "nine strung rings" puzzle. On entering Mrs. Chou put on a smile. "'Aunt' Hsüeh," she explained, "has told me to bring these flowers and present them to you to wear in your hair." "What flowers?" exclaimed Pao-yü. "Bring them here and let me see them." As he uttered these words, he readily stretched out his hands and took them over, and upon opening the box and looking in, he discovered, in fact, two twigs of a novel and artistic kind of artificial flowers, of piled gauze, made in the palace. Tai-yü merely cast a glance at them, as Pao-yü held them. "Have these flowers," she inquired eagerly, "been sent to me alone, or have all the other girls got some too?" "Each one of the young ladies has the same," replied Mrs. Chou; "and these two twigs are intended for you, miss." Tai-yü forced a smile. "Oh! I see," she observed. "If all the others hadn't chosen, even these which remain over wouldn't have been given to me." Chou Jui's wife did not utter a word in reply. "Sister Chou, what took you over on the other side?" asked Pao-yü. "I was told that our madame Wang was over there," explained Mrs. Chou, "and as I went to give her a message, 'aunt' Hsüeh seized the opportunity to ask me to bring over these flowers." "What was cousin Pao Ch'ai doing at home?" asked Pao-yü. "How is it she's not even been over for these few days?" "She's not quite well," remarked Mrs. Chou. When Pao-yü heard this news, "Who'll go," he speedily ascertained of the waiting-maids, "and inquire after her? Tell her that cousin Lin and I have sent round to ask how our aunt and cousin are getting on! ask her what she's ailing from and what medicines she's taking, and explain to her that I know I ought to have gone over myself, but that on my coming back from school a short while back, I again got a slight chill; and that I'll go in person another day." While Pao-yü was yet speaking, Hsi Hsüeh volunteered to take the message, and went off at once; and Mrs. Chou herself took her leave without another word. Mrs. Chou's son-in-law was, in fact, Leng Tzu-hsing, the intimate friend of Yü-ts'un. Having recently become involved with some party in a lawsuit, on account of the sale of some curios, he had expressly charged his wife to come and sue for the favour (of a helping hand). Chou Jui's wife, relying upon her master's prestige, did not so much as take the affair to heart; and having waited till evening, she simply went over and requested lady Feng to befriend her, and the matter was forthwith ended. When the lamps were lit, lady Feng came over, after having disrobed herself, to see madame Wang. "I've already taken charge," she observed, "of the things sent round to-day by the Chen family. As for the presents from us to them, we should avail ourselves of the return of the boats, by which the fresh delicacies for the new year were forwarded, to hand them to them to carry back." Madame Wang nodded her head in token of approval. "The birthday presents," continued lady Feng, "for lady Ling Ngan, the mother of the Earl of Ling Ngan, have already been got together, and whom will you depute to take them over?" "See," suggested madame Wang, "who has nothing to do; let four maids go and all will be right! why come again and ask me?" "Our eldest sister-in-law Chen," proceeded lady Feng, "came over to invite me to go to-morrow to their place for a little change. I don't think there will be anything for me to do to-morrow." "Whether there be or not," replied madame Wang, "it doesn't matter; you must go, for whenever she comes with an invitation, it includes us, who are your seniors, so that, of course, it isn't such a pleasant thing for you; but as she doesn't ask us this time, but only asks you, it's evident that she's anxious that you should have a little distraction, and you mustn't disappoint her good intention. Besides it's certainly right that you should go over for a change." Lady Feng assented, and presently Li Wan, Ying Ch'un and the other cousins, likewise paid each her evening salutation and retired to their respective rooms, where nothing of any notice transpired. The next day lady Feng completed her toilette, and came over first to tell madame Wang that she was off, and then went to say good-bye to dowager lady Chia; but when Pao-yü heard where she was going, he also wished to go; and as lady Feng had no help but to give in, and to wait until he had changed his clothes, the sister and brother-in-law got into a carriage, and in a short while entered the Ning mansion. Mrs. Yu, the wife of Chia Chen, and Mrs. Ch'in, the wife of Mr. Chia Jung, the two sisters-in-law, had, along with a number of maids, waiting-girls, and other servants, come as far as the ceremonial gate to receive them, and Mrs. Yu, upon meeting lady Feng, for a while indulged, as was her wont, in humorous remarks, after which, leading Pao-yü by the hand, they entered the drawing room and took their seats, Mrs. Ch'in handed tea round. "What have you people invited me to come here for?" promptly asked lady Feng; "if you have anything to present me with, hand it to me at once, for I've other things to attend to." Mrs. Yu and Mrs. Ch'in had barely any time to exchange any further remarks, when several matrons interposed, smilingly: "Had our lady not come to-day, there would have been no help for it, but having come, you can't have it all your own way." While they were conversing about one thing and another, they caught sight of Chia Jung come in to pay his respects, which prompted Pao-yü to inquire, "Isn't my elder brother at home to-day?" "He's gone out of town to-day," replied Mrs. Yu, "to inquire after his grandfather. You'll find sitting here," she continued, "very dull, and why not go out and have a stroll?" "A strange coincidence has taken place to-day," urged Mrs. Ch'in, with a smile; "some time back you, uncle Pao, expressed a wish to see my brother, and to-day he too happens to be here at home. I think he's in the library; but why not go and see for yourself, uncle Pao?" Pao-yü descended at once from the stove-couch, and was about to go, when Mrs. Yu bade the servants to mind and go with him. "Don't you let him get into trouble," she enjoined. "It's a far different thing when he comes over under the charge of his grandmother, when he's all right." "If that be so," remarked lady Feng, "why not ask the young gentleman to come in, and then I too can see him. There isn't, I hope, any objection to my seeing him?" "Never mind! never mind!" observed Mrs. Yu, smilingly; "it's as well that you shouldn't see him. This brother of mine is not, like the boys of our Chia family, accustomed to roughly banging and knocking about. Other people's children are brought up politely and properly, and not in this vixenish style of yours. Why, you'd ridicule him to death!" "I won't laugh at him then, that's all," smiled lady Feng; "tell them to bring him in at once." "He's shy," proceeded Mrs. Ch'in, "and has seen nothing much of the world, so that you are sure to be put out when you see him, sister." "What an idea!" exclaimed lady Feng. "Were he even No Cha himself, I'd like to see him; so don't talk trash; if, after all, you don't bring him round at once, I'll give you a good slap on the mouth." "I daren't be obstinate," answered Mrs. Ch'in smiling; "I'll bring him round!" In a short while she did in fact lead in a young lad, who, compared with Pao-yü, was somewhat more slight but, from all appearances, superior to Pao-yü in eyes and eyebrows, (good looks), which were so clear and well-defined, in white complexion and in ruddy lips, as well as graceful appearance and pleasing manners. He was however bashful and timid, like a girl. In a shy and demure way, he made a bow to lady Feng and asked after her health. Lady Feng was simply delighted with him. "You take a low seat next to him!" she ventured laughingly as she first pushed Pao-yü back. Then readily stooping forward, she took this lad by the hand and asked him to take a seat next to her. Presently she inquired about his age, his studies and such matters, when she found that at school he went under the name of Ch'in Chung. The matrons and maids in attendance on lady Feng, perceiving that this was the first time their mistress met Ch'in Chung, (and knowing) that she had not at hand the usual presents, forthwith ran over to the other side and told P'ing Erh about it. P'ing Erh, aware of the close intimacy that existed between lady Feng and Mrs. Ch'in, speedily took upon herself to decide, and selecting a piece of silk, and two small gold medals, (bearing the wish that he should attain) the highest degree, the senior wranglership, she handed them to the servants who had come over, to take away. Lady Feng, however, explained that her presents were too mean by far, but Mrs. Ch'in and the others expressed their appreciation of them; and in a short time the repast was over, and Mrs. Yu, lady Feng and Mrs. Ch'in played at dominoes, but of this no details need be given; while both Pao-yü and Ch'in Chung sat down, got up and talked, as they pleased. Since he had first glanced at Ch'in Chung, and seen what kind of person he was, he felt at heart as if he had lost something, and after being plunged in a dazed state for a time, he began again to give way to foolish thoughts in his mind. "There are then such beings as he in the world!" he reflected. "I now see there are! I'm however no better than a wallowing pig or a mangy cow! Despicable destiny! why was I ever born in this household of a marquis and in the mansion of a duke? Had I seen the light in the home of some penniless scholar, or poverty-stricken official, I could long ago have enjoyed the communion of his friendship, and I would not have lived my whole existence in vain! Though more honourable than he, it is indeed evident that silk and satins only serve to swathe this rotten trunk of mine, and choice wines and rich meats only to gorge the filthy drain and miry sewer of this body of mine! Wealth! and splendour! ye are no more than contaminated with pollution by me!" Ever since Ch'in Chung had noticed Pao-yü's unusual appearance, his sedate deportment, and what is more, his hat ornamented with gold, and his dress full of embroidery, attended by beautiful maids and handsome youths, he did not indeed think it a matter of surprise that every one was fond of him. "Born as I have had the misfortune to be," he went on to commune within himself, "in an honest, though poor family, how can I presume to enjoy his companionship! This is verily a proof of what a barrier poverty and wealth set between man and man. What a serious misfortune is this too in this mortal world!" In wild and inane ideas of the same strain, indulged these two youths! Pao-yü by and by further asked of him what books he was reading, and Ch'in Chung, in answer to these inquiries, told him the truth. A few more questions and answers followed; and after about ten remarks, a greater intimacy sprang up between them. Tea and fruits were shortly served, and while they were having their tea, Pao-yü suggested, "We two don't take any wine, and why shouldn't we have our fruit served on the small couch inside, and go and sit there, and thus save you all the trouble?" The two of them thereupon came into the inner apartment to have their tea; and Mrs. Ch'in attended to the laying out of fruit and wines for lady Feng, and hurriedly entered the room and hinted to Pao-yü: "Dear uncle Pao, your nephew is young, and should he happen to say anything disrespectful, do please overlook it, for my sake, for though shy, he's naturally of a perverse and wilful disposition, and is rather given to having his own way." "Off with you!" cried Pao-yü laughing; "I know it all." Mrs. Ch'in then went on to give a bit of advice to her brother, and at length came to keep lady Feng company. Presently lady Feng and Mrs. Yu sent another servant to tell Pao-yü that there was outside of everything they might wish to eat and that they should mind and go and ask for it; and Pao-yü simply signified that they would; but his mind was not set upon drinking or eating; all he did was to keep making inquiries of Ch'in Chung about recent family concerns. Ch'in Chung went on to explain that his tutor had last year relinquished his post, that his father was advanced in years and afflicted with disease, and had multifarious public duties to preoccupy his mind, so that he had as yet had no time to make arrangements for another tutor, and that all he did was no more than to keep up his old tasks; that as regards study, it was likewise necessary to have the company of one or two intimate friends, as then only, by dint of a frequent exchange of ideas and opinions, one could arrive at progress; and Pao-yü gave him no time to complete, but eagerly urged, "Quite so! But in our household, we have a family school, and those of our kindred who have no means sufficient to engage the services of a tutor are at liberty to come over for the sake of study, and the sons and brothers of our relatives are likewise free to join the class. As my own tutor went home last year, I am now also wasting my time doing nothing; my father's intention was that I too should have gone over to this school, so that I might at least temporarily keep up what I have already read, pending the arrival of my tutor next year, when I could again very well resume my studies alone at home. But my grandmother raised objections; maintaining first of all, that the boys who attend the family classes being so numerous, she feared we would be sure to be up to mischief, which wouldn't be at all proper; and that, in the second place, as I had been ill for some time, the matter should be dropped, for the present. But as, from what you say, your worthy father is very much exercised on this score, you should, on your return, tell him all about it, and come over to our school. I'll also be there as your schoolmate; and as you and I will reap mutual benefit from each other's companionship, won't it be nice!" "When my father was at home the other day," Ch'in Chung smiled and said, "he alluded to the question of a tutor, and explained that the free schools were an excellent institution. He even meant to have come and talked matters over with his son-in-law's father about my introduction, but with the urgent concerns here, he didn't think it right for him to come about this small thing, and make any trouble. But if you really believe that I might be of use to you, in either grinding the ink, or washing the slab, why shouldn't you at once make the needful arrangements, so that neither you nor I may idle our time? And as we shall be able to come together often and talk matters over, and set at the same time our parents' minds at ease, and to enjoy the pleasure of friendship, won't it be a profitable thing!" "Compose your mind!" suggested Pao-yü. "We can by and by first of all, tell your brother-in-law, and your sister as well as sister-in-law Secunda Lien; and on your return home to-day, lose no time in explaining all to your worthy father, and when I get back, I'll speak to my grandmother; and I can't see why our wishes shouldn't speedily be accomplished." By the time they had arrived at this conclusion, the day was far advanced, and the lights were about to be lit; and they came out and watched them once more for a time as they played at dominoes. When they came to settle their accounts Mrs. Ch'in and Mrs. Yu were again the losers and had to bear the expense of a theatrical and dinner party; and while deciding that they should enjoy this treat the day after the morrow, they also had the evening repast. Darkness having set in, Mrs. Yu gave orders that two youths should accompany Mr. Ch'in home. The matrons went out to deliver the directions, and after a somewhat long interval, Ch'in Chung said goodbye and was about to start on his way. "Whom have you told off to escort him?" asked Mrs. Yu. "Chiao Ta," replied the matrons, "has been told to go, but it happens that he's under the effects of drink and making free use again of abusive language." Mrs. Yu and Mrs. Chin remonstrated. "What's the use," they said, "of asking him? that mean fellow shouldn't be chosen, but you will go again and provoke him." "People always maintain," added lady Feng, "that you are far too lenient. But fancy allowing servants in this household to go on in this way; why, what will be the end of it?" "You don't mean to tell me," observed Mrs. Yu, "that you don't know this Chiao Ta? Why, even the gentlemen one and all pay no heed to his doings! your eldest brother, Chia Cheng, he too doesn't notice him. It's all because when he was young he followed our ancestor in three or four wars, and because on one occasion, by extracting our senior from the heap of slain and carrying him on his back, he saved his life. He himself suffered hunger and stole food for his master to eat; they had no water for two days; and when he did get half a bowl, he gave it to his master, while he himself had sewage water. He now simply presumes upon the sentimental obligations imposed by these services. When the seniors of the family still lived, they all looked upon him with exceptional regard; but who at present ventures to interfere with him? He is also advanced in years, and doesn't care about any decent manners; his sole delight is wine; and when he gets drunk, there isn't a single person whom he won't abuse. I've again and again told the stewards not to henceforward ask Chiao Ta to do any work whatever, but to treat him as dead and gone; and here he's sent again to-day." "How can I not know all about this Chiao Ta?" remarked lady Feng; "but the secret of all this trouble is, that you won't take any decisive step. Why not pack him off to some distant farm, and have done with him?" And as she spoke, "Is our carriage ready?" she went on to inquire. "All ready and waiting," interposed the married women. Lady Feng also got up, said good-bye, and hand in hand with Pao-yü, they walked out of the room, escorted by Mrs. Yu and the party, as far as the entrance of the Main Hall, where they saw the lamps shedding a brilliant light and the attendants all waiting on the platforms. Chiao Ta, however, availing himself of Chia Chen's absence from home, and elated by wine, began to abuse the head steward Lai Erh for his injustice. "You bully of the weak and coward with the strong," he cried, "when there's any pleasant charge, you send the other servants, but when it's a question of seeing any one home in the dark, then you ask me, you disorderly clown! a nice way you act the steward, indeed! Do you forget that if Mr. Chiao Ta chose to raise one leg, it would be a good deal higher than your head! Remember please, that twenty years ago, Mr. Chiao Ta wouldn't even so much as look at any one, no matter who it was; not to mention a pack of hybrid creatures like yourselves!" While he went on cursing and railing with all his might, Chia Jung appeared walking by lady Feng's carriage. All the servants having tried to hush him and not succeeding, Chia Jung became exasperated; and forthwith blew him up for a time. "Let some one bind him up," he cried, "and tomorrow, when he's over the wine, I'll call him to task, and we'll see if he won't seek death." Chiao Ta showed no consideration for Chia Jung. On the contrary, he shouted with more vigour. Going up to Chia Jung: "Brother Jung," he said, "don't put on the airs of a master with Chiao Ta. Not to speak of a man such as you, why even your father and grandfather wouldn't presume to display such side with Chiao Ta. Were it not for Chiao Ta, and him alone, where would your office, honours, riches and dignity be? Your ancestor, whom I brought back from the jaws of death, heaped up all this estate, but up to this very day have I received no thanks for the services I rendered! on the contrary, you come here and play the master; don't say a word more, and things may come right; but if you do, I'll plunge the blade of a knife white in you and extract it red." Lady Feng, from inside the carriage, remarked to Chia Jung: "Don't you yet pack off this insolent fellow! Why, if you keep him in your house, won't he be a source of mischief? Besides, were relatives and friends to hear about these things, won't they have a laugh at our expense, that a household like ours should be so devoid of all propriety?" Chia Jung assented. The whole band of servants finding that Chiao Ta was getting too insolent had no help but to come up and throw him over, and binding him up, they dragged him towards the stables. Chiao Ta abused even Chia Chen with still more vehemence, and shouted in a boisterous manner. "I want to go," he cried, "to the family Ancestral Temple and mourn my old master. Who would have ever imagined that he would leave behind such vile creatures of descendants as you all, day after day indulging in obscene and incestuous practices, 'in scraping of the ashes' and in philandering with brothers-in-law. I know all about your doings; the best thing is to hide one's stump of an arm in one's sleeve!" (wash one's dirty clothes at home). The servants who stood by, upon hearing this wild talk, were quite at their wits' end, and they at once seized him, tied him up, and filled his mouth to the fullest extent with mud mixed with some horse refuse. Lady Feng and Chia Jung heard all he said from a distance, but pretended not to hear; but Pao-yü, seated in the carriage as he was, also caught this extravagant talk and inquired of lady Feng: "Sister, did you hear him say something about 'scraping of the ashes?' What's it?" "Don't talk such rubbish!" hastily shouted lady Feng; "it was the maudlin talk of a drunkard! A nice boy you are! not to speak of your listening, but you must also inquire! wait and I'll tell your mother and we'll see if she doesn't seriously take you to task." Pao-yü was in such a state of fright that he speedily entreated her to forgive him. "My dear sister," he craved, "I won't venture again to say anything of the kind" "My dear brother, if that be so, it's all right!" rejoined lady Feng reassuringly; "on our return we'll speak to her venerable ladyship and ask her to send some one to arrange matters in the family school, and invite Ch'in Chung to come to school for his studies." While yet this conversation was going on, they arrived at the Jung Mansion. Reader, do you wish to know what follows? if you do, the next chapter will unfold it. CHAPTER VIII. By a strange coincidence, Chia Pao-yü becomes acquainted with the golden clasp. In an unexpected meeting, Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai sees the jade of spiritual perception. Pao-yü and lady Feng, we will now explain, paid, on their return home, their respects to all the inmates, and Pao-yü availed himself of the first occasion to tell dowager lady Chia of his wish that Ch'in Chung should come over to the family school. "The presence for himself of a friend as schoolmate would," he argued, "be fitly excellent to stir him to zeal," and he went on to speak in terms of high praise of Ch'in Chung, his character and his manners, which most of all made people esteem him. Lady Feng besides stood by him and backed his request. "In a day or two," she added, "Ch'in Chung will be coming to pay his obeisance to your venerable ladyship." This bit of news greatly rejoiced the heart of dowager lady Chia, and lady Feng likewise did not let the opportunity slip, without inviting the old lady to attend the theatrical performance to come off the day after the morrow. Dowager lady Chia was, it is true, well on in years, but was, nevertheless, very fond of enjoyment, so that when the day arrived and Mrs. Yu came over to invite her round, she forthwith took madame Wang, Lin Tai-yü, Pao-yü and others along and went to the play. It was about noon, when dowager lady Chia returned to her apartments for her siesta; and madame Wang, who was habitually partial to a quiet life, also took her departure after she had seen the old lady retire. Lady Feng subsequently took the seat of honour; and the party enjoyed themselves immensely till the evening, when they broke up. But to return to Pao-yü. Having accompanied his grandmother Chia back home, and waited till her ladyship was in her midday sleep, he had in fact an inclination to return to the performance, but he was afraid lest he should be a burden to Mrs. Ch'in and the rest and lest they should not feel at ease. Remembering therefore that Pao Ch'ai had been at home unwell for the last few days, and that he had not been to see her, he was anxious to go and look her up, but he dreaded that if he went by the side gate, at the back of the drawing-room, he would be prevented by something or other, and fearing, what would be making matters worse, lest he should come across his father, he consequently thought it better to go on his way by a detour. The nurses and waiting-maids thereupon came to help him to change his clothes; but they saw him not change, but go out again by the second door. These nurses and maids could not help following him out; but they were still under the impression that he was going over to the other mansion to see the theatricals. Contrary to their speculations, upon reaching the entrance hall, he forthwith went to the east, then turned to the north, and walking round by the rear of the hall, he happened to come face to face with two of the family companions, Mr. Ch'an Kuang, and Mr. Tan T'ing-jen. As soon as they caught sight of Pao-yü, they both readily drew up to him, and as they smiled, the one put his arm round his waist, while the other grasped him by the hand. "Oh divine brother!" they both exclaimed, "this we call dreaming a pleasant dream, for it's no easy thing to come across you!" While continuing their remarks they paid their salutations, and inquired after his health; and it was only after they had chatted for ever so long, that they went on their way. The nurse called out to them and stopped them, "Have you two gentlemen," she said, "come out from seeing master?" They both nodded assent. "Your master," they explained, "is in the Meng P'o Chai small library having his siesta; so that you can go through there with no fear." As they uttered these words, they walked away. This remark also evoked a smile from Pao-yü, but without further delay he turned a corner, went towards the north, and came into the Pear Fragrance Court, where, as luck would have it, he met the head manager of the Household Treasury, Wu Hsin-teng, who, in company with the head of the granary, Tai Liang, and several other head stewards, seven persons in all, was issuing out of the Account Room. On seeing Pao-yü approaching, they, in a body, stood still, and hung down their arms against their sides. One of them alone, a certain butler, called Ch'ien Hua, promptly came forward, as he had not seen Pao-yü for many a day, and bending on one knee, paid his respects to Pao-yü. Pao-yü at once gave a smile and pulled him up. "The day before yesterday," smiled all the bystanders, "we were somewhere together and saw some characters written by you, master Secundus, in the composite style. The writing is certainly better than it was before! When will you give us a few sheets to stick on the wall?" "Where did you see them?" inquired Pao-yü, with a grin. "They are to be found in more than one place," they replied, "and every one praises them very much, and what's more, asks us for a few." "They are not worth having," observed Pao-yü smilingly; "but if you do want any, tell my young servants and it will be all right." As he said these words, he moved onwards. The whole party waited till he had gone by, before they separated, each one to go his own way. But we need not dilate upon matters of no moment, but return to Pao-yü. On coming to the Pear Fragrance Court, he entered, first, into "aunt" Hsüeh's room, where he found her getting some needlework ready to give to the waiting-maids to work at. Pao-yü forthwith paid his respects to her, and "aunt" Hsüeh, taking him by the hand, drew him towards her and clasped him in her embrace. "With this cold weather," she smilingly urged, "it's too kind of you, my dear child, to think of coming to see me; come along on the stove-couch at once!--Bring some tea," she continued, addressing the servants, "and make it as hot as it can be!" "Isn't Hsüeh P'an at home?" Pao-yü having inquired: "He's like a horse without a halter," Mrs. Hsüeh remarked with a sigh; "he's daily running here and there and everywhere, and nothing can induce him to stay at home one single day." "Is sister (Pao Ch'ai) all right again?" asked Pao-yü. "Yes," replied Mrs. Hsüeh, "she's well again. It was very kind of you two days ago to again think of her, and send round to inquire after her. She's now in there, and you can go and see her. It's warmer there than it's here; go and sit with her inside, and, as soon as I've put everything away, I'll come and join you and have a chat." Pao-yü, upon hearing this, jumped down with alacrity from the stove-couch, and walked up to the door of the inner room, where he saw hanging a portière somewhat the worse for use, made of red silk. Pao-yü raised the portière and making one step towards the interior, he found Pao Ch'ai seated on the couch, busy over some needlework. On the top of her head was gathered, and made into a knot, her chevelure, black as lacquer, and glossy like pomade. She wore a honey-coloured wadded robe, a rose-brown short-sleeved jacket, lined with the fur of the squirrel of two colours: the "gold and silver;" and a jupe of leek-yellow silk. Her whole costume was neither too new, neither too old, and displayed no sign of extravagance. Her lips, though not rouged, were naturally red; her eyebrows, though not pencilled, were yet blue black; her face resembled a silver basin, and her eyes, juicy plums. She was sparing in her words, chary in her talk, so much so that people said that she posed as a simpleton. She was quiet in the acquittal of her duties and scrupulous as to the proper season for everything. "I practise simplicity," she would say of herself. "How are you? are you quite well again, sister?" inquired Pao-yü, as he gazed at her; whereupon Pao Ch'ai raised her head, and perceiving Pao-yü walk in, she got up at once and replied with a smile, "I'm all right again; many thanks for your kindness in thinking of me." While uttering this, she pressed him to take a seat on the stove-couch, and as he sat down on the very edge of the couch, she told Ying Erh to bring tea and asked likewise after dowager lady Chia and lady Feng. "And are all the rest of the young ladies quite well?" she inquired. Saying this she scrutinised Pao-yü, who she saw had a head-dress of purplish-gold twisted threads, studded with precious stones. His forehead was bound with a gold circlet, representing two dragons, clasping a pearl. On his person he wore a light yellow, archery-sleeved jacket, ornamented with rampant dragons, and lined with fur from the ribs of the silver fox; and was clasped with a dark sash, embroidered with different-coloured butterflies and birds. Round his neck was hung an amulet, consisting of a clasp of longevity, a talisman of recorded name, and, in addition to these, the precious jade which he had had in his mouth at the time of his birth. "I've daily heard every one speak of this jade," said Pao Ch'ai with a smile, "but haven't, after all, had an opportunity of looking at it closely, but anyhow to-day I must see it." As she spoke, she drew near. Pao-yü himself approached, and taking it from his neck, he placed it in Pao Ch'ai's hand. Pao Ch'ai held it in her palm. It appeared to her very much like the egg of a bird, resplendent as it was like a bright russet cloud; shiny and smooth like variegated curd and covered with a net for the sake of protection. Readers, you should know that this was the very block of useless stone which had been on the Ta Huang Hills, and which had dropped into the Ch'ing Keng cave, in a state of metamorphosis. A later writer expresses his feelings in a satirical way as follows: Nü Wo's fusion of stones was e'er a myth inane, But from this myth hath sprung fiction still more insane! Lost is the subtle life, divine, and real!--gone! Assumed, mean subterfuge! foul bags of skin and bone! Fortune, when once adverse, how true! gold glows no more! In evil days, alas! the jade's splendour is o'er! Bones, white and bleached, in nameless hill-like mounds are flung, Bones once of youths renowned and maidens fair and young. The rejected stone has in fact already given a record of the circumstances of its transformation, and the inscription in seal characters, engraved upon it by the bald-headed bonze, and below will now be also appended a faithful representation of it; but its real size is so very diminutive, as to allow of its being held by a child in his mouth while yet unborn, that were it to have been drawn in its exact proportions, the characters would, it is feared, have been so insignificant in size, that the beholder would have had to waste much of his eyesight, and it would besides have been no pleasant thing. While therefore its shape has been adhered to, its size has unavoidably been slightly enlarged, to admit of the reader being able, conveniently, to peruse the inscription, even by very lamplight, and though he may be under the influence of wine. These explanations have been given to obviate any such sneering remarks as: "What could be, pray, the size of the mouth of a child in his mother's womb, and how could it grasp such a large and clumsy thing?" On the face of the jade was written: Precious Gem of Spiritual Perception. If thou wilt lose me not and never forget me, Eternal life and constant luck will be with thee! On the reverse was written: 1 To exorcise evil spirits and the accessory visitations; 2 To cure predestined sickness; 3 To prognosticate weal and woe. Pao Ch'ai having looked at the amulet, twisted it again to the face, and scrutinising it closely, read aloud: If thou wilt lose me not and never forget me, Eternal life and constant luck will be with thee! She perused these lines twice, and, turning round, she asked Ying Erh laughingly: "Why don't you go and pour the tea? what are you standing here like an idiot!" "These two lines which I've heard," smiled Ying Erh, "would appear to pair with the two lines on your necklet, miss!" "What!" eagerly observed Pao-yü with a grin, when he caught these words, "are there really eight characters too on your necklet, cousin? do let me too see it." "Don't listen to what she says," remarked Pao Ch'ai, "there are no characters on it." "My dear cousin," pleaded Pao-yü entreatingly, "how is it you've seen mine?" Pao Ch'ai was brought quite at bay by this remark of his, and she consequently added, "There are also two propitious phrases engraved on this charm, and that's why I wear it every day. Otherwise, what pleasure would there be in carrying a clumsy thing." As she spoke, she unfastened the button, and produced from inside her crimson robe, a crystal-like locket, set with pearls and gems, and with a brilliant golden fringe. Pao-yü promptly received it from her, and upon minute examination, found that there were in fact four characters on each side; the eight characters on both sides forming two sentences of good omen. The similitude of the locket is likewise then given below. On the face of the locket is written: "Part not from me and cast me not away;" And on the reverse: "And youth, perennial freshness will display!" Pao-yü examined the charm, and having also read the inscription twice over aloud, and then twice again to himself, he said as he smiled, "Dear cousin, these eight characters of yours form together with mine an antithetical verse." "They were presented to her," ventured Ying Erh, "by a mangy-pated bonze, who explained that they should be engraved on a golden trinket...." Pao Ch'ai left her no time to finish what she wished to say, but speedily called her to task for not going to bring the tea, and then inquired of Pao-yü "Where he had come from?" Pao-yü had, by this time, drawn quite close to Pao Ch'ai, and perceived whiff after whiff of some perfume or other, of what kind he could not tell. "What perfume have you used, my cousin," he forthwith asked, "to fumigate your dresses with? I really don't remember smelling any perfumery of the kind before." "I'm very averse," replied Pao Ch'ai blandly, "to the odour of fumigation; good clothes become impregnated with the smell of smoke." "In that case," observed Pao-yü, "what scent is it?" "Yes, I remember," Pao Ch'ai answered, after some reflection; "it's the scent of the 'cold fragrance' pills which I took this morning." "What are these cold fragrance pills," remarked Pao-yü smiling, "that they have such a fine smell? Give me, cousin, a pill to try." "Here you are with your nonsense again," Pao Ch'ai rejoined laughingly; "is a pill a thing to be taken recklessly?" She had scarcely finished speaking, when she heard suddenly some one outside say, "Miss Lin is come;" and shortly Lin Tai-yü walked in in a jaunty manner. "Oh, I come at a wrong moment!" she exclaimed forthwith, smirking significantly when she caught sight of Pao-yü. Pao-yü and the rest lost no time in rising and offering her a seat, whereupon Pao Ch'ai added with a smile, "How can you say such things?" "Had I known sooner," continued Tai-yü, "that he was here, I would have kept away." "I can't fathom this meaning of yours," protested Pao Ch'ai. "If one comes," Tai-yü urged smiling, "then all come, and when one doesn't come, then no one comes. Now were he to come to-day, and I to come to-morrow, wouldn't there be, by a division of this kind, always some one with you every day? and in this way, you wouldn't feel too lonely, nor too crowded. How is it, cousin, that you didn't understand what I meant to imply?" "Is it snowing?" inquired Pao-yü, upon noticing that she wore a cloak made of crimson camlet, buttoning in front. "It has been snowing for some time," ventured the matrons, who were standing below. "Fetch my wrapper!" Pao-yü remarked, and Tai-yü readily laughed. "Am I not right? I come, and, of course, he must go at once." "Did I ever mention that I was going?" questioned Pao-yü; "I only wish it brought to have it ready when I want it." "It's a snowy day," consequently remarked Pao-yü's nurse, dame Li, "and we must also look to the time, but you had better remain here and amuse yourself with your cousin. Your aunt has, in there, got ready tea and fruits. I'll tell the waiting-maid to go and fetch your wrapper and the boys to return home." Pao-yü assented, and nurse Li left the room and told the boys that they were at liberty to go. By this time Mrs. Hsüeh had prepared tea and several kinds of nice things and kept them all to partake of those delicacies. Pao-yü, having spoken highly of some goose feet and ducks' tongues he had tasted some days before, at his eldest sister-in-law's, Mrs. Yu's, "aunt" Hsüeh promptly produced several dishes of the same kind, made by herself, and gave them to Pao-yü to try. "With a little wine," added Pao-yü with a smile, "they would be first rate." Mrs. Hsüeh thereupon bade the servants fetch some wine of the best quality; but dame Li came forward and remonstrated. "My lady," she said, "never mind the wine." Pao-yü smilingly pleaded: "My nurse, I'll take just one cup and no more." "It's no use," nurse Li replied, "were your grandmother and mother present, I wouldn't care if you drank a whole jar. I remember the day when I turned my eyes away but for a moment, and some ignorant fool or other, merely with the view of pandering for your favour, gave you only a drop of wine to drink, and how this brought reproaches upon me for a couple of days. You don't know, my lady, you have no idea of his disposition! it's really dreadful; and when he has had a little wine he shows far more temper. On days when her venerable ladyship is in high spirits, she allows him to have his own way about drinking, but he's not allowed to have wine on any and every day; and why should I have to suffer inside and all for nothing at all?" "You antiquated thing!" replied Mrs. Hsüeh laughing, "set your mind at ease, and go and drink your own wine! I won't let him have too much, and should even the old lady say anything, let the fault be mine." Saying this, she asked a waiting-maid to take nurse Li along with her and give her also a glass of wine so as to keep out the cold air. When nurse Li heard these words, she had no alternative but to go for a time with all the others and have some wine to drink. "The wine need not be warmed: I prefer it cold!" Pao-yü went on to suggest meanwhile. "That won't do," remonstrated Mrs. Hsüeh; "cold wine will make your hand tremble when you write." "You have," interposed Pao Ch'ai smiling, "the good fortune, cousin Pao-yü, of having daily opportunities of acquiring a knowledge of every kind of subject, and yet don't you know that the properties of wine are mostly heating? If you drink wine warm, its effects soon dispel, but if you drink it cold, it at once congeals in you; and as upon your intestines devolves the warming of it, how can you not derive any harm? and won't you yet from this time change this habit of yours? leave off at once drinking that cold wine." Pao-yü finding that the words he had heard contained a good deal of sense, speedily put down the cold wine, and having asked them to warm it, he at length drank it. Tai-yü was bent upon cracking melon seeds, saying nothing but simply pursing up her lips and smiling, when, strange coincidence, Hsüeh Yen, Tai-yü's waiting-maid, walked in and handed her mistress a small hand-stove. "Who told you to bring it?" ascertained Tai-yü grinningly. "I'm sorry to have given whoever it is the trouble; I'm obliged to her. But did she ever imagine that I would freeze to death?" "Tzu Chuan was afraid," replied Hsüeh Yen, "that you would, miss, feel cold, and she asked me to bring it over." Tai-yü took it over and held it in her lap. "How is it," she smiled, "that you listen to what she tells you, but that you treat what I say, day after day, as so much wind blowing past your ears! How is it that you at once do what she bids you, with even greater alacrity than you would an imperial edict?" When Pao-yü heard this, he felt sure in his mind that Tai-yü was availing herself of this opportunity to make fun of him, but he made no remark, merely laughing to himself and paying no further notice. Pao Ch'ai, again, knew full well that this habit was a weak point with Tai-yü, so she too did not go out of her way to heed what she said. "You've always been delicate and unable to stand the cold," interposed "aunt" Hsüeh, "and is it not a kind attention on their part to have thought of you?" "You don't know, aunt, how it really stands," responded Tai-yü smilingly; "fortunately enough, it was sent to me here at your quarters; for had it been in any one else's house, wouldn't it have been a slight upon them? Is it forsooth nice to think that people haven't so much as a hand-stove, and that one has fussily to be sent over from home? People won't say that the waiting-maids are too officious, but will imagine that I'm in the habit of behaving in this offensive fashion." "You're far too punctilious," remarked Mrs. Hsüeh, "as to entertain such notions! No such ideas as these crossed my mind just now." While they were conversing, Pao-yü had taken so much as three cups of wine, and nurse Li came forward again to prevent him from having any more. Pao-yü was just then in a state of exultation and excitement, (a state) enhanced by the conversation and laughter of his cousins, so that was he ready to agree to having no more! But he was constrained in a humble spirit to entreat for permission. "My dear nurse," he implored, "I'll just take two more cups and then have no more." "You'd better be careful," added nurse Li, "your father is at home to-day, and see that you're ready to be examined in your lessons." When Pao-yü heard this mention, his spirits at once sank within him, and gently putting the wine aside, he dropped his head upon his breast. Tai-yü promptly remonstrated. "You've thrown cold water," she said, "over the spirits of the whole company; why, if uncle should ask to see you, well, say that aunt Hsüeh detained you. This old nurse of yours has been drinking, and again makes us the means of clearing her muddled head!" While saying this, she gave Pao-yü a big nudge with the intent of stirring up his spirits, adding, as she addressed him in a low tone of voice: "Don't let us heed that old thing, but mind our own enjoyment." Dame Li also knew very well Tai-yü's disposition, and therefore remarked: "Now, Miss Lin, don't you urge him on; you should after all, give him good advice, as he may, I think, listen to a good deal of what you say to him." "Why should I urge him on?" rejoined Lin Tai-yü, with a sarcastic smile, "nor will I trouble myself to give him advice. You, old lady, are far too scrupulous! Old lady Chia has also time after time given him wine, and if he now takes a cup or two more here, at his aunt's, lady Hsüeh's house, there's no harm that I can see. Is it perhaps, who knows, that aunt is a stranger in this establishment, and that we have in fact no right to come over here to see her?" Nurse Li was both vexed and amused by the words she had just heard. "Really," she observed, "every remark this girl Lin utters is sharper than a razor! I didn't say anything much!" Pao Ch'ai too could not suppress a smile, and as she pinched Tai-yü's cheek, she exclaimed, "Oh the tongue of this frowning girl! one can neither resent what it says, nor yet listen to it with any gratification!" "Don't be afraid!" Mrs. Hsüeh went on to say, "don't be afraid; my son, you've come to see me, and although I've nothing good to give you, you mustn't, through fright, let the trifle you've taken lie heavy on your stomach, and thus make me uneasy; but just drink at your pleasure, and as much as you like, and let the blame fall on my shoulders. What's more, you can stay to dinner with me, and then go home; or if you do get tipsy, you can sleep with me, that's all." She thereupon told the servants to heat some more wine. "I'll come," she continued, "and keep you company while you have two or three cups, after which we'll have something to eat!" It was only after these assurances that Pao-yü's spirits began at length, once more to revive, and dame Li then directed the waiting-maids what to do. "You remain here," she enjoined, "and mind, be diligent while I go home and change; when I'll come back again. Don't allow him," she also whispered to "aunt" Hsüeh, "to have all his own way and drink too much." Having said this, she betook herself back to her quarters; and during this while, though there were two or three nurses in attendance, they did not concern themselves with what was going on. As soon as they saw that nurse Li had left, they likewise all quietly slipped out, at the first opportunity they found, while there remained but two waiting-maids, who were only too glad to curry favour with Pao-yü. But fortunately "aunt" Hsüeh, by much coaxing and persuading, only let him have a few cups, and the wine being then promptly cleared away, pickled bamboo shoots and chicken-skin soup were prepared, of which Pao-yü drank with relish several bowls full, eating besides more than half a bowl of finest rice congee. By this time, Hsüeh Pao Ch'ai and Lin Tai-yü had also finished their repast; and when Pao-yü had drunk a few cups of strong tea, Mrs. Hsüeh felt more easy in her mind. Hsüeh Yen and the others, three or four of them in all, had also had their meal, and came in to wait upon them. "Are you now going or not?" inquired Tai-yü of Pao-yü. Pao-yü looked askance with his drowsy eyes. "If you want to go," he observed, "I'll go with you." Tai-yü hearing this, speedily rose. "We've been here nearly the whole day," she said, "and ought to be going back." As she spoke the two of them bade good-bye, and the waiting-maids at once presented a hood to each of them. Pao-yü readily lowered his head slightly and told a waiting-maid to put it on. The girl promptly took the hood, made of deep red cloth, and shaking it out of its folds, she put it on Pao-yü's head. "That will do," hastily exclaimed Pao-yü. "You stupid thing! gently a bit; is it likely you've never seen any one put one on before? let me do it myself." "Come over here, and I'll put it on for you," suggested Tai-yü, as she stood on the edge of the couch. Pao-yü eagerly approached her, and Tai-yü carefully kept the cap, to which his hair was bound, fast down, and taking the hood she rested its edge on the circlet round his forehead. She then raised the ball of crimson velvet, which was as large as a walnut, and put it in such a way that, as it waved tremulously, it should appear outside the hood. These arrangements completed she cast a look for a while at what she had done. "That's right now," she added, "throw your wrapper over you!" When Pao-yü caught these words, he eventually took the wrapper and threw it over his shoulders. "None of your nurses," hurriedly interposed aunt Hsüeh, "are yet come, so you had better wait a while." "Why should we wait for them?" observed Pao-yü. "We have the waiting-maids to escort us, and surely they should be enough." Mrs. Hsüeh finding it difficult to set her mind at ease deputed two married women to accompany the two cousins; and after they had both expressed (to these women) their regret at having troubled them, they came straightway to dowager lady Chia's suite of apartments. Her venerable ladyship had not, as yet, had her evening repast. Hearing that they had been at Mrs. Hsüeh's, she was extremely pleased; but noticing that Pao-yü had had some wine, she gave orders that he should be taken to his room, and put to bed, and not be allowed to come out again. "Do take good care of him," she therefore enjoined the servants, and when suddenly she bethought herself of Pao-yü's attendants, "How is it," she at once inquired of them all, "that I don't see nurse Li here?" They did not venture to tell her the truth, that she had gone home, but simply explained that she had come in a few moments back, and that they thought she must have again gone out on some business or other. "She's better off than your venerable ladyship," remarked Pao-yü, turning round and swaying from side to side. "Why then ask after her? Were I rid of her, I believe I might live a little longer." While uttering these words, he reached the door of his bedroom, where he saw pen and ink laid out on the writing table. "That's nice," exclaimed Ch'ing Wen, as she came to meet him with a smile on her face, "you tell me to prepare the ink for you, but though when you get up, you were full of the idea of writing, you only wrote three characters, when you discarded the pencil, and ran away, fooling me, by making me wait the whole day! Come now at once and exhaust all this ink before you're let off." Pao-yü then remembered what had taken place in the morning. "Where are the three characters I wrote?" he consequently inquired, smiling. "Why this man is tipsy," remarked Ch'ing Wen sneeringly. "As you were going to the other mansion, you told me to stick them over the door. I was afraid lest any one else should spoil them, as they were being pasted, so I climbed up a high ladder and was ever so long in putting them up myself; my hands are even now numb with cold." "Oh I forgot all about it," replied Pao-yü grinning, "if your hands are cold, come and I'll rub them warm for you." Promptly stretching out his hand, he took those of Ch'ing Wen in his, and the two of them looked at the three characters, which he recently had written, and which were pasted above the door. In a short while, Tai-yü came. "My dear cousin," Pao-yü said to her smilingly, "tell me without any prevarication which of the three characters is the best written?" Tai-yü raised her head and perceived the three characters: Red, Rue, Hall. "They're all well done," she rejoined, with a smirk, "How is it you've written them so well? By and bye you must also write a tablet for me." "Are you again making fun of me?" asked Pao-yü smiling; "what about sister Hsi Jen?" he went on to inquire. Ch'ing Wen pouted her lips, pointing towards the stove-couch in the inner room, and, on looking in, Pao-yü espied Hsi Jen fast asleep in her daily costume. "Well," Pao-yü observed laughing, "there's no harm in it, but its rather early to sleep. When I was having my early meal, on the other side," he proceeded, speaking to Ch'ing Wen, "there was a small dish of dumplings, with bean-curd outside; and as I thought you would like to have some, I asked Mrs. Yu for them, telling her that I would keep them, and eat them in the evening; I told some one to bring them over, but have you perchance seen them?" "Be quick and drop that subject," suggested Ch'ing Wen; "as soon as they were brought over, I at once knew they were intended for me; as I had just finished my meal, I put them by in there, but when nurse Li came she saw them. 'Pao-yü,' she said, 'is not likely to eat them, so I'll take them and give them to my grandson.' And forthwith she bade some one take them over to her home." While she was speaking, Hsi Hsüeh brought in tea, and Pao-yü pressed his cousin Lin to have a cup. "Miss Lin has gone long ago," observed all of them, as they burst out laughing, "and do you offer her tea?" Pao-yü drank about half a cup, when he also suddenly bethought himself of some tea, which had been brewed in the morning. "This morning," he therefore inquired of Hsi Hsüeh, "when you made a cup of maple-dew tea, I told you that that kind of tea requires brewing three or four times before its colour appears; and how is that you now again bring me this tea?" "I did really put it by," answered Hsi Hsüeh, "but nurse Li came and drank it, and then went off." Pao-yü upon hearing this, dashed the cup he held in his hand on the ground, and as it broke into small fragments, with a crash, it spattered Hsi Hsüeh's petticoat all over. "Of whose family is she the mistress?" inquired Pao-yü of Hsi Hsüeh, as he jumped up, "that you all pay such deference to her. I just simply had a little of her milk, when I was a brat, and that's all; and now she has got into the way of thinking herself more high and mighty than even the heads of the family! She should be packed off, and then we shall all have peace and quiet." Saying this, he was bent upon going, there and then, to tell dowager lady Chia to have his nurse driven away. Hsi Jen was really not asleep, but simply feigning, with the idea, when Pao-yü came, to startle him in play. At first, when she heard him speak of writing, and inquire after the dumplings, she did not think it necessary to get up, but when he flung the tea-cup on the floor, and got into a temper, she promptly jumped up and tried to appease him, and to prevent him by coaxing from carrying out his threat. A waiting-maid sent by dowager lady Chia came in, meanwhile, to ask what was the matter. "I had just gone to pour tea," replied Hsi Jen, without the least hesitation, "and I slipped on the snow and fell, while the cup dropped from my hand and broke. Your decision to send her away is good," she went on to advise Pao-yü, "and we are all willing to go also; and why not avail yourself of this opportunity to dismiss us in a body? It will be for our good, and you too on the other hand, needn't perplex yourself about not getting better people to come and wait on you!" When Pao-yü heard this taunt, he had at length not a word to say, and supported by Hsi Jen and the other attendants on to the couch, they divested him of his clothes. But they failed to understand the drift of what Pao-yü kept on still muttering, and all they could make out was an endless string of words; but his eyes grew heavier and drowsier, and they forthwith waited upon him until he went to sleep; when Hsi Jen unclasped the jade of spiritual perception, and rolling it up in a handkerchief, she lay it under the mattress, with the idea that when he put it on the next day it should not chill his neck. Pao-yü fell sound asleep the moment he lay his head on the pillow. By this time nurse Li and the others had come in, but when they heard that Pao-yü was tipsy, they too did not venture to approach, but gently made inquiries as to whether he was asleep or not. On hearing that he was, they took their departure with their minds more at ease. The next morning the moment Pao-yü awoke, some one came in to tell him that young Mr. Jung, living in the mansion on the other side, had brought Ch'in Chung to pay him a visit. Pao-yü speedily went out to greet them and to take them over to pay their respects to dowager lady Chia. Her venerable ladyship upon perceiving that Ch'in Chung, with his handsome countenance, and his refined manners, would be a fit companion for Pao-yü in his studies, felt extremely delighted at heart; and having readily detained him to tea, and kept him to dinner, she went further and directed a servant to escort him to see madame Wang and the rest of the family. With the fond regard of the whole household for Mrs. Ch'in, they were, when they saw what a kind of person Ch'in Chung was, so enchanted with him, that at the time of his departure, they all had presents to give him; even dowager lady Chia herself presented him with a purse and a golden image of the God of Learning, with a view that it should incite him to study and harmony. "Your house," she further advised him, "is far off, and when it's cold or hot, it would be inconvenient for you to come all that way, so you had better come and live over here with me. You'll then be always with your cousin Pao-yü, and you won't be together, in your studies, with those fellow-pupils of yours who have no idea what progress means." Ch'in Chung made a suitable answer to each one of her remarks, and on his return home he told everything to his father. His father, Ch'in Pang-yeh, held at present the post of Secretary in the Peking Field Force, and was well-nigh seventy. His wife had died at an early period, and as she left no issue, he adopted a son and a daughter from a foundling asylum. But who would have thought it, the boy also died, and there only remained the girl, known as Kó Ch'ing in her infancy, who when she grew up, was beautiful in face and graceful in manners, and who by reason of some relationship with the Chia family, was consequently united by the ties of marriage (to one of the household). Ch'in Pang-yeh was in his fiftieth year when he at length got this son. As his tutor had the previous year left to go south, he remained at home keeping up his former lessons; and (his father) had been just thinking of talking over the matter with his relatives of the Chia family, and sending his son to the private school, when, as luck would have it, this opportunity of meeting Pao-yü presented itself. Knowing besides that the family school was under the direction of the venerable scholar Chia Tai-ju, and hoping that by joining his class, (his son) might advance in knowledge and by these means reap reputation, he was therefore intensely gratified. The only drawbacks were that his official emoluments were scanty, and that both the eyes of everyone in the other establishment were set upon riches and honours, so that he could not contribute anything short of the amount (given by others); but his son's welfare throughout life was a serious consideration, and he, needless to say, had to scrape together from the East and to collect from the West; and making a parcel, with all deference, of twenty-four taels for an introduction present, he came along with Ch'in Chung to Tai-ju's house to pay their respects. But he had to wait subsequently until Pao-yü could fix on an auspicious date on which they could together enter the school. As for what happened after they came to school, the next chapter will divulge. CHAPTER IX. Chia Cheng gives good advice to his wayward son. Li Kuei receives a reprimand. Chia Jui and Li Kuei rebuke the obstinate youths! Ming Yen causes trouble in the school-room. But to return to our story. Mr. Ch'in, the father, and Ch'in Chung, his son, only waited until the receipt, by the hands of a servant, of a letter from the Chia family about the date on which they were to go to school. Indeed, Pao-yü was only too impatient that he and Ch'in Chung should come together, and, without loss of time, he fixed upon two days later as the day upon which they were definitely to begin their studies, and he despatched a servant with a letter to this effect. On the day appointed, as soon as it was daylight, Pao-yü turned out of bed. Hsi Jen had already by that time got books, pencils and all writing necessaries in perfect readiness, and was sitting on the edge of the bed in a moping mood; but as soon as she saw Pao-yü approach, she was constrained to wait upon him in his toilette and ablutions. Pao-yü, noticing how despondent she was, made it a point to address her. "My dear sister," he said, "how is it you aren't again yourself? Is it likely that you bear me a grudge for being about to go to school, because when I leave you, you'll all feel dull?" Hsi Jen smiled. "What an ideal" she replied. "Study is a most excellent thing, and without it a whole lifetime is a mere waste, and what good comes in the long run? There's only one thing, which is simply that when engaged in reading your books, you should set your mind on your books; and that you should think of home when not engaged in reading. Whatever you do, don't romp together with them, for were you to meet our master, your father, it will be no joke! Although it's asserted that a scholar must strain every nerve to excel, yet it's preferable that the tasks should be somewhat fewer, as, in the first place, when one eats too much, one cannot digest it; and, in the second place, good health must also be carefully attended to. This is my view on the subject, and you should at all times consider it in practice." While Hsi Jen gave utterance to a sentence, Pao-yü nodded his head in sign of approval of that sentence. Hsi Jen then went on to speak. "I've also packed up," she continued, "your long pelisse, and handed it to the pages to take it over; so mind, when it's cold in the school-room, please remember to put on this extra clothing, for it's not like home, where you have people to look after you. The foot-stove and hand-stove, I've also sent over; and urge that pack of lazy-bones to attend to their work, for if you say nothing, they will be so engrossed in their frolics, that they'll be loth to move, and let you, all for nothing, take a chill and ruin your constitution." "Compose your mind," replied Pao-yü; "when I go out, I know well enough how to attend to everything my own self. But you people shouldn't remain in this room, and mope yourselves to death; and it would be well if you would often go over to cousin Lin's for a romp." While saying this, he had completed his toilette, and Hsi Jen pressed him to go and wish good morning to dowager lady Chia, Chia Cheng, madame Wang, and the other members of the family. Pao-yü, after having gone on to give a few orders to Ch'ing Wen and She Yueh, at length left his apartments, and coming over, paid his obeisance to dowager lady Chia. Her venerable Ladyship had likewise, as a matter of course, a few recommendations to make to him, which ended, he next went and greeted madame Wang; and leaving again her quarters, he came into the library to wish Chia Cheng good morning. As it happened, Chia Cheng had on this day returned home at an early hour, and was, at this moment, in the library, engaged in a friendly chat with a few gentlemen, who were family companions. Suddenly perceiving Pao-yü come in to pay his respects, and report that he was about to go to school, Chia Cheng gave a sardonic smile. "If you do again," he remarked, "make allusions to the words going to school, you'll make even me blush to death with shame! My advice to you is that you should after all go your own way and play; that's the best thing for you; and mind you don't pollute with dirt this floor by standing here, and soil this door of mine by leaning against it!" The family companions stood up and smilingly expostulated. "Venerable Sir," they pleaded, "why need you be so down upon him? Our worthy brother is this day going to school, and may in two or three years be able to display his abilities and establish his reputation. He will, beyond doubt, not behave like a child, as he did in years gone past. But as the time for breakfast is also drawing nigh, you should, worthy brother, go at once." When these words had been spoken, two among them, who were advanced in years, readily took Pao-yü by the hand, and led him out of the library. "Who are in attendance upon Pao-yü?" Chia Cheng having inquired, he heard a suitable reply, "We, Sir!" given from outside; and three or four sturdy fellows entered at an early period and fell on one knee, and bowed and paid their obeisance. When Chia Cheng came to scrutinise who they were, and he recognised Li Kuei, the son of Pao-yü's nurse, he addressed himself to him. "You people," he said, "remain waiting upon him the whole day long at school, but what books has he after all read? Books indeed! why, he has read and filled his brains with a lot of trashy words and nonsensical phrases, and learnt some ingenious way of waywardness. Wait till I have a little leisure, and I'll set to work, first and foremost, and flay your skin off, and then settle accounts with that good-for-nothing!" This threat so terrified Li Kuei that he hastily fell on both his knees, pulled off his hat, knocked his head on the ground, and gave vent to repeated assenting utterances: "Oh, quite so, Sir! Our elder brother Mr. Pao has," he continued, "already read up to the third book of the Book of Odes, up to where there's something or other like: 'Yiu, Yiu, the deer bleat; the lotus leaves and duckweed.' Your servant wouldn't presume to tell a lie!" As he said this, the whole company burst out into a boisterous fit of laughter, and Chia Cheng himself could not also contain his countenance and had to laugh. "Were he even," he observed, "to read thirty books of the Book of Odes, it would be as much an imposition upon people and no more, as (when the thief) who, in order to steal the bell, stops up his own ears! You go and present my compliments to the gentleman in the schoolroom, and tell him, from my part, that the whole lot of Odes and old writings are of no use, as they are subjects for empty show; and that he should, above all things, take the Four Books, and explain them to him, from first to last, and make him know them all thoroughly by heart,--that this is the most important thing!" Li Kuei signified his obedience with all promptitude, and perceiving that Chia Cheng had nothing more to say, he retired out of the room. During this while, Pao-yü had been standing all alone outside in the court, waiting quietly with suppressed voice, and when they came out he at once walked away in their company. Li Kuei and his companions observed as they shook their clothes, "Did you, worthy brother, hear what he said that he would first of all flay our skins off! People's servants acquire some respectability from the master whom they serve, but we poor fellows fruitlessly wait upon you, and are beaten and blown up in the bargain. It would be well if we were, from henceforward, to be treated with a certain amount of regard." Pao-yü smiled, "Dear Brother," he added, "don't feel aggrieved; I'll invite you to come round to-morrow!" "My young ancestor," replied Li Kuei, "who presumes to look forward to an invitation? all I entreat you is to listen to one or two words I have to say, that's all." As they talked they came over once more to dowager lady Chia's on this side. Ch'in Chung had already arrived, and the old lady was first having a chat with him. Forthwith the two of them exchanged salutations, and took leave of her ladyship; but Pao-yü, suddenly remembering that he had not said good-bye to Tai-yü, promptly betook himself again to Tai-yü's quarters to do so. Tai-yü was, at this time, below the window, facing the mirror, and adjusting her toilette. Upon hearing Pao-yü mention that he was on his way to school, she smiled and remarked, "That's right! you're now going to school and you'll be sure to reach the lunar palace and pluck the olea fragrans; but I can't go along with you." "My dear cousin," rejoined Pao-yü, "wait for me to come out from school, before you have your evening meal; wait also until I come to prepare the cosmetic of rouge." After a protracted chat, he at length tore himself away and took his departure. "How is it," interposed Tai-yü, as she once again called out to him and stopped him, "that you don't go and bid farewell to your cousin Pao Ch'ai?" Pao-yü smiled, and saying not a word by way of reply he straightway walked to school, accompanied by Ch'in Chung. This public school, which it must be noticed was also not far from his quarters, had been originally instituted by the founder of the establishment, with the idea that should there be among the young fellows of his clan any who had not the means to engage a tutor, they should readily be able to enter this class for the prosecution of their studies; that all those of the family who held official position should all give (the institution) pecuniary assistance, with a view to meet the expenses necessary for allowances to the students; and that they were to select men advanced in years and possessed of virtue to act as tutors of the family school. The two of them, Ch'in Chung and Pao-yü, had now entered the class, and after they and the whole number of their schoolmates had made each other's acquaintance, their studies were commenced. Ever since this time, these two were wont to come together, go together, get up together, and sit together, till they became more intimate and close. Besides, dowager lady Chia got very fond of Ch'in Chung, and would again and again keep him to stay with them for three and five days at a time, treating him as if he were one of her own great-grandsons. Perceiving that in Ch'in Chung's home there was not much in the way of sufficiency, she also helped him in clothes and other necessaries; and scarcely had one or two months elapsed before Ch'in Chung got on friendly terms with every one in the Jung mansion. Pao-yü was, however, a human being who could not practise contentment and observe propriety; and as his sole delight was to have every caprice gratified, he naturally developed a craving disposition. "We two, you and I, are," he was also wont secretly to tell Ch'in Chung, "of the same age, and fellow-scholars besides, so that there's no need in the future to pay any regard to our relationship of uncle and nephew; and we should treat each other as brothers or friends, that's all." Ch'in Chung at first (explained that) he could not be so presumptuous; but as Pao-yü would not listen to any such thing, but went on to address him as brother and to call him by his style Ch'ing Ch'ing, he had likewise himself no help, but to begin calling him, at random, anything and anyhow. There were, it is true, a large number of pupils in this school, but these consisted of the sons and younger brothers of that same clan, and of several sons and nephews of family connections. The proverb appositely describes that there are nine species of dragons, and that each species differs; and it goes of course without saying that in a large number of human beings there were dragons and snakes, confusedly admixed, and that creatures of a low standing were included. Ever since the arrival of the two young fellows, Ch'in Chung and Pao-yü, both of whom were in appearance as handsome as budding flowers, and they, on the one hand, saw how modest and genial Ch'in Chung was, how he blushed before he uttered a word, how he was timid and demure like a girl, and on the other hand, how that Pao-yü was naturally proficient in abasing and demeaning himself, how he was so affable and good-natured, considerate in his temperament and so full of conversation, and how that these two were, in consequence, on such terms of intimate friendship, it was, in fact, no matter of surprise that the whole company of fellow-students began to foster envious thoughts, that they, behind their backs, passed on their account, this one one disparaging remark and that one another, and that they insinuated slanderous lies against them, which extended inside as well as outside the school-room. Indeed, after Hsüeh P'an had come over to take up his quarters in madame Wang's suite of apartments, he shortly came to hear of the existence of a family school, and that this school was mainly attended by young fellows of tender years, and inordinate ideas were suddenly aroused in him. While he therefore fictitiously gave out that he went to school, [he was as irregular in his attendance as the fisherman] who catches fish for three days, and suns his nets for the next two; simply presenting his school-fee gift to Chia Tai-jui and making not the least progress in his studies; his sole dream being to knit a number of familiar friendships. Who would have thought it, there were in this school young pupils, who, in their greed to obtain money, clothes and eatables from Hsüeh P'an, allowed themselves to be cajoled by him, and played tricks upon; but on this topic, it is likewise superfluous to dilate at any length. There were also two lovable young scholars, relatives of what branch of the family is not known, and whose real surnames and names have also not been ascertained, who, by reason of their good and winsome looks, were, by the pupils in the whole class, given two nicknames, to one that of "Hsiang Lin," "Fragrant Love," and to the other "Yü Ai," "Precious Affection." But although every one entertained feelings of secret admiration for them, and had the wish to take liberties with the young fellows, they lived, nevertheless, one and all, in such terror of Hsüeh P'an's imperious influence, that they had not the courage to come forward and interfere with them. As soon as Ch'in Chung and Pao-yü had, at this time, come to school, and they had made the acquaintance of these two fellow-pupils, they too could not help becoming attached to them and admiring them, but as they also came to know that they were great friends of Hsüeh P'an, they did not, in consequence, venture to treat them lightly, or to be unseemly in their behaviour towards them. Hsiang Lin and Yü Ai both kept to themselves the same feelings, which they fostered for Ch'in Chung and Pao-yü, and to this reason is to be assigned the fact that though these four persons nurtured fond thoughts in their hearts there was however no visible sign of them. Day after day, each one of them would, during school hours, sit in four distinct places: but their eight eyes were secretly linked together; and, while indulging either in innuendoes or in double entendres, their hearts, in spite of the distance between them, reflected the whole number of their thoughts. But though their outward attempts were devoted to evade the detection of other people's eyes, it happened again that, while least expected, several sly lads discovered the real state of affairs, with the result that the whole school stealthily frowned their eyebrows at them, winked their eyes at them, or coughed at them, or raised their voices at them; and these proceedings were, in fact, not restricted to one single day. As luck would have it, on this day Tai-jui was, on account of business, compelled to go home; and having left them as a task no more than a heptameter line for an antithetical couplet, explaining that they should find a sentence to rhyme, and that the following day when he came back, he would set them their lessons, he went on to hand the affairs connected with the class to his elder grandson, Chia Jui, whom he asked to take charge. Wonderful to say Hsüeh P'an had of late not frequented school very often, not even so much as to answer the roll, so that Ch'in Chung availed himself of his absence to ogle and smirk with Hsiang Lin; and these two pretending that they had to go out, came into the back court for a chat. "Does your worthy father at home mind your having any friends?" Ch'in Chung was the first to ask. But this sentence was scarcely ended, when they heard a sound of coughing coming from behind. Both were taken much aback, and, speedily turning their heads round to see, they found that it was a fellow-scholar of theirs, called Chin Jung. Hsiang Lin was naturally of somewhat hasty temperament, so that with shame and anger mutually impelling each other, he inquired of him, "What's there to cough at? Is it likely you wouldn't have us speak to each other?" "I don't mind your speaking," Chin Jung observed laughing; "but would you perchance not have me cough? I'll tell you what, however; if you have anything to say, why not utter it in intelligible language? Were you allowed to go on in this mysterious manner, what strange doings would you be up to? But I have sure enough found you out, so what's the need of still prevaricating? But if you will, first of all, let me partake of a share in your little game, you and I can hold our tongue and utter not a word. If not, why the whole school will begin to turn the matter over." At these words, Ch'in Chung and Hsiang Lin were so exasperated that their blood rushed up to their faces. "What have you found out?" they hastily asked. "What I have now detected," replied Chin Jung smiling, "is the plain truth!" and saying this he went on to clap his hands and to call out with a loud voice as he laughed: "They have moulded some nice well-baked cakes, won't you fellows come and buy one to eat!" (These two have been up to larks, won't you come and have some fun!) Both Ch'in Chung and Hsiang Lin felt resentful as well as fuming with rage, and with hurried step they went in, in search of Chia Jui, to whom they reported Chin Jung, explaining that Chin Jung had insulted them both, without any rhyme or reason. The fact is that this Chia Jui was, in an extraordinary degree, a man with an eye to the main chance, and devoid of any sense of propriety. His wont was at school to take advantage of public matters to serve his private interest, and to bring pressure upon his pupils with the intent that they should regale him. While subsequently he also lent his countenance to Hsüeh P'an, scheming to get some money or eatables out of him, he left him entirely free to indulge in disorderly behaviour; and not only did he not go out of his way to hold him in check, but, on the contrary, he encouraged him, infamous though he was already, to become a bully, so as to curry favour with him. But this Hsüeh P'an was, by nature, gifted with a fickle disposition; to-day, he would incline to the east, and to-morrow to the west, so that having recently obtained new friends, he put Hsiang Lin and Yü Ai aside. Chin Jung too was at one time an intimate friend of his, but ever since he had acquired the friendship of the two lads, Hsiang Lin and Yü Ai, he forthwith deposed Chin Jung. Of late, he had already come to look down upon even Hsiang Lin and Yü Ai, with the result that Chia Jui as well was deprived of those who could lend him support, or stand by him; but he bore Hsüeh P'an no grudge, for wearying with old friends, as soon as he found new ones, but felt angry that Hsiang Lin and Yü Ai had not put in a word on his behalf with Hsüeh P'an. Chia Jui, Chin Jung and in fact the whole crowd of them were, for this reason, just harbouring a jealous grudge against these two, so that when he saw Ch'in Chung and Hsiang Lin come on this occasion and lodge a complaint against Chin Jung, Chia Jui readily felt displeasure creep into his heart; and, although he did not venture to call Ch'in Chung to account, he nevertheless made an example of Hsiang Lin. And instead (of taking his part), he called him a busybody and denounced him in much abusive language, with the result that Hsiang Lin did not, contrariwise, profit in any way, but brought displeasure upon himself. Even Ch'in Chung grumbled against the treatment, as each of them resumed their places. Chin Jung became still more haughty, and wagging his head and smacking his lips, he gave vent to many more abusive epithets; but as it happened that they also reached Yü Ai's ears, the two of them, though seated apart, began an altercation in a loud tone of voice. Chin Jung, with obstinate pertinacity, clung to his version. "Just a short while back," he said, "I actually came upon them, as they were indulging in demonstrations of intimate friendship in the back court. These two had resolved to be one in close friendship, and were eloquent in their protestations, mindful only in persistently talking their trash, but they were not aware of the presence of another person." But his language had, contrary to all expectations, given, from the very first, umbrage to another person, and who do you, (gentle reader,) imagine this person to have been? This person was, in fact, one whose name was Chia Se; a grandson likewise of a main branch of the Ning mansion. His parents had died at an early period, and he had, ever since his youth, lived with Chia Chen. He had at this time grown to be sixteen years of age, and was, as compared with Chia Jung, still more handsome and good looking. These two cousins were united by ties of the closest intimacy, and were always together, whether they went out or stayed at home. The inmates of the Ning mansion were many in number, and their opinions of a mixed kind; and that whole bevy of servants, devoid as they were of all sense of right, solely excelled in the practice of inventing stories to backbite their masters; and this is how some mean person or other again, who it was is not known, insinuated slanderous and opprobrious reports (against Chia Se). Chia Chen had, presumably, also come to hear some unfavourable criticisms (on his account), and having, of course, to save himself from odium and suspicion, he had, at this juncture, after all, to apportion him separate quarters, and to bid Chia Se move outside the Ning mansion, where he went and established a home of his own to live in. This Chia Se was handsome as far as external appearances went, and intelligent withal in his inward natural gifts, but, though he nominally came to school, it was simply however as a mere blind; for he treated, as he had ever done, as legitimate occupations, such things as cock fighting, dog-racing and visiting places of easy virtue. And as, above, he had Chia Chen to spoil him by over-indulgence; and below, there was Chia Jung to stand by him, who of the clan could consequently presume to run counter to him? Seeing that he was on the closest terms of friendship with Chia Jung, how could he reconcile himself to the harsh treatment which he now saw Ch'in Chung receive from some persons? Being now bent upon pushing himself forward to revenge the injustice, he was, for the time, giving himself up to communing with his own heart. "Chin Jung, Chia Jui and the rest are," he pondered, "friends of uncle Hsüeh, but I too am on friendly terms with him, and he with me, and if I do come forward and they tell old Hsüeh, won't we impair the harmony which exists between us? and if I don't concern myself, such idle tales make, when spoken, every one feel uncomfortable; and why shouldn't I now devise some means to hold them in check, so as to stop their mouths, and prevent any loss of face!" Having concluded this train of thought, he also pretended that he had to go out, and, walking as far as the back, he, with low voice, called to his side Ming Yen, the page attending upon Pao-yü in his studies, and in one way and another, he made use of several remarks to egg him on. This Ming Yen was the smartest of Pao-yü's attendants, but he was also young in years and lacked experience, so that he lent a patient ear to what Chia Se had to say about the way Chin Jung had insulted Ch'in Chung. "Even your own master, Pao-yü," (Chia Se added), "is involved, and if you don't let him know a bit of your mind, he will next time be still more arrogant." This Ming Yen was always ready, even with no valid excuse, to be insolent and overbearing to people, so that after hearing the news and being furthermore instigated by Chia Se, he speedily rushed into the schoolroom and cried out "Chin Jung;" nor did he address him as Mr. Chin, but merely shouted "What kind of fellow is this called Chin?" Chia Se presently shuffled his feet, while he designedly adjusted his dress and looked at the rays of the sun. "It's time," he observed and walking forthwith, first up to Chia Jui, he explained to him that he had something to attend to and would like to get away a little early; and as Chia Jui did not venture to stop him, he had no alternative but to let him have his way and go. During this while, Ming Yen had entered the room and promptly seizing Chin Jung in a grip: "What we do, whether proper or improper," he said, "doesn't concern you! It's enough anyway that we don't defile your father! A fine brat you are indeed, to come out and meddle with your Mr. Ming!" These words plunged the scholars of the whole class in such consternation that they all wistfully and absently looked at him. "Ming Yen," hastily shouted out Chia Jui, "you're not to kick up a rumpus." Chin Jung was so full of anger that his face was quite yellow. "What a subversion of propriety! a slave and a menial to venture to behave in this manner! I'll just simply speak to your master," he exclaimed as he readily pushed his hands off and was about to go and lay hold of Pao-yü to beat him. Ch'in Chung was on the point of turning round to leave the room, when with a sound of 'whiff' which reached him from behind, he at once caught sight of a square inkslab come flying that way. Who had thrown it he could not say, but it struck the desk where Chia Lan and Chia Chün were seated. These two, Chia Lan and Chia Chün, were also the great-grandsons of a close branch of the Jung mansion. This Chia Chün had been left fatherless at an early age, and his mother doated upon him in an unusual manner, and it was because at school he was on most friendly terms with Chia Lan, that these two sat together at the same desk. Who would have believed that Chia Chün would, in spite of being young in years, have had an extremely strong mind, and that he would be mostly up to mischief without the least fear of any one. He watched with listless eye from his seat Chin Jung's friends stealthily assist Chin Jung, as they flung an inkslab to strike Ming Yen, but when, as luck would have it, it hit the wrong mark, and fell just in front of him, smashing to atoms the porcelain inkslab and water bottle, and smudging his whole book with ink, Chia Chün was, of course, much incensed, and hastily gave way to abuse. "You consummate pugnacious criminal rowdies! why, doesn't this amount to all of you taking a share in the fight!" And as he uttered this abuse, he too forthwith seized an inkslab, which he was bent upon flinging. Chia Lan was one who always tried to avoid trouble, so that he lost no time in pressing down the inkslab, while with all the words his mouth could express, he tried to pacify him, adding "My dear brother, it's no business of yours and mine." Chia Chün could not repress his resentment; and perceiving that the inkslab was held down, he at once laid hold of a box containing books, which he flung in this direction; but being, after all, short of stature, and weak of strength, he was unable to send it anywhere near the mark; so that it dropped instead when it got as far as the desk belonging to Pao-yü and Ch'in Chung, while a dreadful crash became audible as it fell smash on the table. The books, papers, pencils, inkslabs, and other writing materials were all scattered over the whole table; and Pao-yü's cup besides containing tea was itself broken to pieces and the tea spilt. Chia Chün forthwith jumped forward with the intent of assailing the person who had flung the inkslab at the very moment that Chin Jung took hold of a long bamboo pole which was near by; but as the space was limited, and the pupils many, how could he very well brandish a long stick? Ming Yen at an early period received a whack, and he shouted wildly, "Don't you fellows yet come to start a fight." Pao-yü had, besides, along with him several pages, one of whom was called Sao Hung, another Ch'u Yo, another Mo Yü. These three were naturally up to every mischief, so that with one voice, bawling boisterously, "You children of doubtful mothers, have you taken up arms?" Mo Yü promptly took up the bar of a door; while Sao Hung and Ch'u Yo both laid hold of horsewhips, and they all rushed forward like a hive of bees. Chia Jui was driven to a state of exasperation; now he kept this one in check, and the next moment he reasoned with another, but who would listen to his words? They followed the bent of their inclinations and stirred up a serious disturbance. Of the whole company of wayward young fellows, some there were who gave sly blows for fun's sake; others there were who were not gifted with much pluck and hid themselves on one side; there were those too who stood on the tables, clapping their hands and laughing immoderately, shouting out: "Go at it." The row was, at this stage, like water bubbling over in a cauldron, when several elderly servants, like Li Kuei and others, who stood outside, heard the uproar commence inside, and one and all came in with all haste and united in their efforts to pacify them. Upon asking "What's the matter?" the whole bevy of voices shouted out different versions; this one giving this account, while another again another story. But Li Kuei temporised by rebuking Ming Yen and others, four in all, and packing them off. Ch'in Chung's head had, at an early period, come into contact with Chin Jung's pole and had had the skin grazed off. Pao-yü was in the act of rubbing it for him, with the overlap of his coat, but realising that the whole lot of them had been hushed up, he forthwith bade Li Kuei collect his books. "Bring my horse round," he cried; "I'm going to tell Mr. Chia Tai-ju that we have been insulted. I won't venture to tell him anything else, but (tell him I will) that having come with all propriety and made our report to Mr. Chia Jui, Mr. Chia Jui instead (of helping us) threw the fault upon our shoulders. That while he heard people abuse us, he went so far as to instigate them to beat us; that Ming Yen seeing others insult us, did naturally take our part; but that they, instead (of desisting,) combined together and struck Ming Yen and even broke open Ch'in Chung's head. And that how is it possible for us to continue our studies in here?" "My dear sir," replied Li Kuei coaxingly, "don't be so impatient! As Mr. Chia Tai-ju has had something to attend to and gone home, were you now, for a trifle like this, to go and disturb that aged gentleman, it will make us, indeed, appear as if we had no sense of propriety: my idea is that wherever a thing takes place, there should it be settled; and what's the need of going and troubling an old man like him. This is all you, Mr. Chia Jui, who is to blame; for in the absence of Mr. Chia Tai-ju, you, sir, are the head in this school, and every one looks to you to take action. Had all the pupils been at fault, those who deserved a beating should have been beaten, and those who merited punishment should have been punished! and why did you wait until things came to such a pass, and didn't even exercise any check?" "I blew them up," pleaded Chia Jui, "but not one of them would listen." "I'll speak out, whether you, worthy sir, resent what I'm going to say or not," ventured Li Kuei. "It's you, sir, who all along have after all had considerable blame attached to your name; that's why all these young men wouldn't hear you! Now if this affair is bruited, until it reaches Mr. Chia Tai-ju's ears, why even you, sir, will not be able to escape condemnation; and why don't you at once make up your mind to disentangle the ravelled mess and dispel all trouble and have done with it!" "Disentangle what?" inquired Pao-yü; "I shall certainly go and make my report." "If Chin Jung stays here," interposed Ch'in Chung sobbing, "I mean to go back home." "Why that?" asked Pao-yü. "Is it likely that others can safely come and that you and I can't? I feel it my bounden duty to tell every one everything at home so as to expel Chin Jung. This Chin Jung," he went on to inquire as he turned towards Lei Kuei, "is the relative or friend of what branch of the family?" Li Kuei gave way to reflection and then said by way of reply: "There's no need whatever for you to raise this question; for were you to go and report the matter to the branch of the family to which he belongs, the harmony which should exist between cousins will be still more impaired." "He's the nephew of Mrs. Huang, of the Eastern mansion," interposed Ming Yen from outside the window. "What a determined and self-confident fellow he must be to even come and bully us; Mrs. Huang is his paternal aunt! That mother of yours is only good for tossing about like a millstone, for kneeling before our lady Lien, and begging for something to pawn. I've no eye for such a specimen of mistress." "What!" speedily shouted Li Kuei, "does this son of a dog happen to know of the existence of all these gnawing maggots?" (these disparaging facts). Pao-yü gave a sardonic smile. "I was wondering whose relative he was," he remarked; "is he really sister-in-law Huang's nephew? well, I'll go at once and speak to her." As he uttered these words, his purpose was to start there and then, and he called Ming Yen in, to come and pack up his books. Ming Yen walked in and put the books away. "Master," he went on to suggest, in an exultant manner, "there's no need for you to go yourself to see her; I'll go to her house and tell her that our old lady has something to ask of her. I can hire a carriage to bring her over, and then, in the presence of her venerable ladyship, she can be spoken to; and won't this way save a lot of trouble?" "Do you want to die?" speedily shouted Li Kuei; "mind, when you go back, whether right or wrong, I'll first give you a good bumping, and then go and report you to our master and mistress, and just tell them that it's you, and only you, who instigated Mr. Pao-yü! I've succeeded, after ever so much trouble, in coaxing them, and mending matters to a certain extent, and now you come again to continue a new plan. It's you who stirred up this row in the school-room; and not to speak of your finding, as would have been the proper course, some way of suppressing it, there you are instead still jumping into the fire." Ming Yen, at this juncture, could not muster the courage to utter a sound. By this time Chia Jui had also apprehended that if the row came to be beyond clearing up, he himself would likewise not be clear of blame, so that circumstances compelled him to pocket his grievances and to come and entreat Ch'in Chung as well as to make apologies to Pao-yü. These two young fellows would not at first listen to his advances, but Pao-yü at length explained that he would not go and report the occurrence, provided only Chin Jung admitted his being in the wrong. Chin Jung refused, at the outset, to agree to this, but he ultimately could find no way out of it, as Chia Jui himself urged him to make some temporising apology. Li Kuei and the others felt compelled to tender Chin Jung some good advice: "It's you," they said, "who have given rise to the disturbance, and if you don't act in this manner, how will the matter ever be brought to an end?" so that Chin Jung found it difficult to persist in his obstinacy, and was constrained to make a bow to Ch'in Chung. Pao-yü was, however, not yet satisfied, but would insist upon his knocking his head on the ground, and Chia Jui, whose sole aim was to temporarily smother the affair, quietly again urged Chin Jung, adding that the proverb has it: "That if you keep down the anger of a minute, you will for a whole life-time feel no remorse." Whether Chin Jung complied or not to his advice is not known, but the following chapter will explain. CHAPTER X. Widow Chin, prompted by a desire to reap advantage, puts up temporarily with an insult. Dr. Chang in discussing Mrs. Chin's illness minutely exhausts its origin. We will now resume our story. As the persons against Chin Jung were so many and their pressure so great, and as, what was more, Chia Jui urged him to make amends, he had to knock his head on the ground before Ch'in Chung. Pao-yü then gave up his clamorous remonstrances and the whole crowd dispersed from school. Chin Jung himself returned home all alone, but the more he pondered on the occurrence, the more incensed he felt. "Ch'in Chung," he argued, "is simply Chia Jung's young brother-in-law, and is no son or grandson of the Chia family, and he too joins the class and prosecutes his studies on no other footing than that of mine; but it's because he relies upon Pao-yü's friendship for him that he has no eye for any one. This being the case, he should be somewhat proper in his behaviour, and there would be then not a word to say about it! He has besides all along been very mystical with Pao-yü, imagining that we are all blind, and have no eyes to see what's up! Here he goes again to-day and mixes with people in illicit intrigues; and it's all because they happened to obtrude themselves before my very eyes that this rumpus has broken out; but of what need I fear?" His mother, née Hu, hearing him mutter; "Why meddle again," she explained, "in things that don't concern you? I had endless trouble in getting to speak to your paternal aunt; and your aunt had, on the other hand, a thousand and one ways and means to devise, before she could appeal to lady Secunda, of the Western mansion; and then only it was that you got this place to study in. Had we not others to depend upon for your studies, would we have in our house the means sufficient to engage a teacher? Besides, in other people's school, tea and eatables are all ready and found; and these two years that you've been there for your lessons, we've likewise effected at home a great saving in what would otherwise have been necessary for your eating and use. Something has been, it's true, economised; but you have further a liking for spick and span clothes. Besides, it's only through your being there to study, that you've come to know Mr. Hsüeh! that Mr. Hsüeh, who has even in one year given us so much pecuniary assistance as seventy and eighty taels! And now you would go and raise a row in this school-room! why, if we were bent upon finding such another place, I tell you plainly, and once for all, that we would find it more difficult than if we tried to scale the heavens! Now do quietly play for a while, and then go to sleep, and you'll be ever so much better for it then." Chin Jung thereupon stifled his anger and held his tongue; and, after a short while, he in fact went to sleep of his own accord. The next day he again went to school, and no further comment need be made about it; but we will go on to explain that a young lady related to her had at one time been given in marriage to a descendant (of the eldest branch) of the Chia family, (whose names were written) with the jade radical, Chia Huang by name; but how could the whole number of members of the clan equal in affluence and power the two mansions of Ning and Jung? This fact goes, as a matter of course, without saying. The Chia Huang couple enjoyed some small income; but they also went, on frequent occasions, to the mansions of Ning and Jung to pay their respects; and they knew likewise so well how to adulate lady Feng and Mrs. Yu, that lady Feng and Mrs. Yu would often grant them that assistance and support which afforded them the means of meeting their daily expenses. It just occurred on this occasion that the weather was clear and fine, and that there happened, on the other hand, to be nothing to attend to at home, so forthwith taking along with her a matron, (Mrs. Chia Huang) got into a carriage and came over to see widow Chin and her nephew. While engaged in a chat, Chin Jung's mother accidentally broached the subject of the affair, which had transpired in the school-room of the Chia mansion on the previous day, and she gave, for the benefit of her young sister-in-law, a detailed account of the whole occurrence from beginning to end. This Mrs. Huang would not have had her temper ruffled had she not come to hear what had happened; but having heard about it, anger sprung from the very depths of her heart. "This fellow, Ch'in Chung," she exclaimed, "is a relative of the Chia family, but is it likely that Jung Erh isn't, in like manner, a relative of the Chia family; and when relatives are many, there's no need to put on airs! Besides, does his conduct consist, for the most part, of anything that would make one get any face? In fact, Pao-yü himself shouldn't do injury to himself by condescending to look at him. But, as things have come to this pass, give me time and I'll go to the Eastern mansion and see our lady Chen and then have a chat with Ch'in Chung's sister, and ask her to decide who's right and who's wrong!" Chin Jung's mother upon hearing these words was terribly distressed. "It's all through my hasty tongue," she observed with vehemence, "that I've told you all, sister-in-law: but please, sister, give up at once the idea of going over to say anything about it! Don't trouble yourself as to who is in the right, and who is in the wrong; for were any unpleasantness to come out of it, how could we here stand on our legs? and were we not to stand on our legs, not only would we never be able to engage a tutor, but the result will be, on the contrary, that for his own person will be superadded many an expense for eatables and necessaries." "What do I care about how many?" replied Mrs. Huang; "wait till I've spoken about it, and we'll see what will be the result." Nor would she accede to her sister-in-law's entreaties, but bidding, at the same time, the matron look after the carriage, she got into it, and came over to the Ning Mansion. On her arrival at the Ning Mansion, she entered by the eastern side gate, and dismounting from the carriage, she went in to call on Mrs. Yu, the spouse of Chia Chen, with whom she had not the courage to put on any high airs; but gently and quietly she made inquiries after her health, and after passing some irrelevant remarks, she ascertained: "How is it I don't see lady Jung to-day?" "I don't know," replied Mrs. Yu, "what's the matter with her these last few days; but she hasn't been herself for two months and more; and the doctor who was asked to see her declares that it is nothing connected with any happy event. A couple of days back, she felt, as soon as the afternoon came, both to move, and both even to utter a word; while the brightness of her eyes was all dimmed; and I told her, 'You needn't stick to etiquette, for there's no use for you to come in the forenoon and evening, as required by conventionalities; but what you must do is, to look after your own health. Should any relative come over, there's also myself to receive them; and should any of the senior generation think your absence strange, I'll explain things for you, if you'll let me.' "I also advised brother Jung on the subject: 'You shouldn't,' I said, 'allow any one to trouble her; nor let her be put out of temper, but let her quietly attend to her health, and she'll get all right. Should she fancy anything to eat, just come over here and fetch it; for, in the event of anything happening to her, were you to try and find another such a wife to wed, with such a face and such a disposition, why, I fear, were you even to seek with a lantern in hand, there would really be no place where you could discover her. And with such a temperament and deportment as hers, which of our relatives and which of our elders don't love her?' That's why my heart has been very distressed these two days! As luck would have it early this morning her brother turned up to see her, but who would have fancied him to be such a child, and so ignorant of what is proper and not proper to do? He saw well enough that his sister was not well; and what's more all these matters shouldn't have been recounted to her; for even supposing he had received the gravest offences imaginable, it behoved him anyhow not to have broached the subject to her! Yesterday, one would scarcely believe it, a fight occurred in the school-room, and some pupil or other who attends that class, somehow insulted him; besides, in this business, there were a good many indecent and improper utterances, but all these he went and told his sister! Now, sister-in-law, you are well aware that though (our son Jung's) wife talks and laughs when she sees people, that she is nevertheless imaginative and withal too sensitive, so that no matter what she hears, she's for the most part bound to brood over it for three days and five nights, before she loses sight of it, and it's from this excessive sensitiveness that this complaint of hers arises. Today, when she heard that some one had insulted her brother, she felt both vexed and angry; vexed that those fox-like, cur-like friends of his had moved right and wrong, and intrigued with this one and deluded that one; angry that her brother had, by not learning anything profitable, and not having his mind set upon study, been the means of bringing about a row at school; and on account of this affair, she was so upset that she did not even have her early meal. I went over a short while back and consoled her for a time, and likewise gave her brother a few words of advice; and after having packed off that brother of hers to the mansion on the other side, in search of Pao-yü, and having stood by and seen her have half a bowl of birds' nests soup, I at length came over. Now, sister-in-law, tell me, is my heart sore or not? Besides, as there's nowadays no good doctor, the mere thought of her complaint makes my heart feel as if it were actually pricked with needles! But do you and yours, perchance, know of any good practitioner?" Mrs. Chin had, while listening to these words, been, at an early period, so filled with concern that she cast away to distant lands the reckless rage she had been in recently while at her sister-in-law's house, when she had determined to go and discuss matters over with Mrs. Ch'in. Upon hearing Mrs. Yu inquire of her about a good doctor, she lost no time in saying by way of reply: "Neither have we heard of any one speak of a good doctor; but from the account I've just heard of Mrs. Ch'in's illness, it may still, there's no saying, be some felicitous ailment; so, sister-in-law, don't let any one treat her recklessly, for were she to be treated for the wrong thing, the result may be dreadful!" "Quite so!" replied Mrs. Yu. But while they were talking, Chia Chen came in from out of doors, and upon catching sight of Mrs. Chin; "Isn't this Mrs. Huang?" he inquired of Mrs. Yu; whereupon Mrs. Chin came forward and paid her respects to Chia Chen. "Invite this lady to have her repast here before she goes," observed Chia Chen to Mrs. Yu; and as he uttered these words he forthwith walked into the room on the off side. The object of Mrs. Chin's present visit had originally been to talk to Mrs. Ch'in about the insult which her brother had received from the hands of Ch'in Chung, but when she heard that Mrs. Ch'in was ill, she did not have the courage to even so much as make mention of the object of her errand. Besides, as Chia Chen and Mrs. Yu had given her a most cordial reception, her resentment was transformed into pleasure, so that after a while spent in a further chat about one thing and another, she at length returned to her home. It was only after the departure of Mrs. Chin that Chia Chen came over and took a seat. "What did she have to say for herself during this visit to-day?" he asked of Mrs. Yu. "She said nothing much," replied Mrs. Yu. "When she first entered the room, her face bore somewhat of an angry look, but, after a lengthy chat and as soon as mention of our son's wife's illness was made, this angered look after all gradually abated. You also asked me to keep her for the repast, but, having heard that our son's wife was so ill she could not very well stay, so that all she did was to sit down, and after making a few more irrelevant remarks, she took her departure. But she had no request to make. To return however now to the illness of Jung's wife, it's urgent that you should find somewhere a good doctor to diagnose it for her; and whatever you do, you should lose no time. The whole body of doctors who at present go in and out of our household, are they worth having? Each one of them listens to what the patient has to say of the ailment, and then, adding a string of flowery sentences, out he comes with a long rigmarole; but they are exceedingly diligent in paying us visits; and in one day, three or four of them are here at least four and five times in rotation! They come and feel her pulse, they hold consultation together, and write their prescriptions, but, though she has taken their medicines, she has seen no improvement; on the contrary, she's compelled to change her clothes three and five times each day, and to sit up to see the doctor; a thing which, in fact, does the patient no good." "This child too is somewhat simple," observed Chia Chen; "for what need has she to be taking off her clothes, and changing them for others? And were she again to catch a chill, she would add something more to her illness; and won't it be dreadful! The clothes may be no matter how fine, but what is their worth, after all? The health of our child is what is important to look to! and were she even to wear out a suit of new clothes a-day, what would that too amount to? I was about to tell you that a short while back, Feng Tzu-ying came to see me, and, perceiving that I had somewhat of a worried look, he asked me what was up; and I told him that our son's wife was not well at all, that as we couldn't get any good doctor, we couldn't determine with any certainty, whether she was in an interesting condition, or whether she was suffering from some disease; that as we could neither tell whether there was any danger or not, my heart was, for this reason, really very much distressed. Feng Tzu-ying then explained that he knew a young doctor who had made a study of his profession, Chang by surname, and Yu-shih by name, whose learning was profound to a degree; who was besides most proficient in the principles of medicine, and had the knack of discriminating whether a patient would live or die; that this year he had come to the capital to purchase an official rank for his son, and that he was now living with him in his house. In view of these circumstances, not knowing but that if, perchance, the case of our daughter-in-law were placed in his hands, he couldn't avert the danger, I readily despatched a servant, with a card of mine, to invite him to come; but the hour to-day being rather late, he probably won't be round, but I believe he's sure to be here to-morrow. Besides, Feng-Tzu-ying was also on his return home, to personally entreat him on my behalf, so that he's bound, when he has asked him, to come and see her. Let's therefore wait till Dr. Chang has been here and seen her, when we can talk matters over!" Mrs. Yu was very much cheered when she heard what was said. "The day after to-morrow," she felt obliged to add, "is again our senior's, Mr. Chia Ching's birthday, and how are we to celebrate it after all?" "I've just been over to our Senior's and paid my respects," replied Chia Chen, "and further invited the old gentleman to come home, and receive the congratulations of the whole family. "'I'm accustomed,' our Senior explained, 'to peace and quiet, and have no wish to go over to that worldly place of yours; for you people are certain to have published that it's my birthday, and to entertain the design to ask me to go round to receive the bows of the whole lot of you. But won't it be better if you were to give the "Record of Meritorious Acts," which I annotated some time ago, to some one to copy out clean for me, and have it printed? Compared with asking me to come, and uselessly receive the obeisances of you all, this will be yea even a hundred times more profitable! In the event of the whole family wishing to pay me a visit on any of the two days, to-morrow or the day after to-morrow, if you were to stay at home and entertain them in proper style, that will be all that is wanted; nor will there be any need to send me anything! Even you needn't come two days from this; and should you not feel contented at heart, well, you had better bow your head before me to-day before you go. But if you do come again the day after to-morrow, with a lot of people to disturb me, I shall certainly be angry with you.' After what he said, I will not venture to go and see him two days hence; but you had better send for Lai Sheng, and bid him get ready a banquet to continue for a couple of days." Mrs. Yu, having asked Chia Jung to come round, told him to direct Lai Sheng to make the usual necessary preparations for a banquet to last for a couple of days, with due regard to a profuse and sumptuous style. "You go by-and-by," (she advised him), "in person to the Western Mansion and invite dowager lady Chia, mesdames Hsing and Wang, and your sister-in-law Secunda lady Lien to come over for a stroll. Your father has also heard of a good doctor, and having already sent some one to ask him round, I think that by to-morrow he's sure to come; and you had better tell him, in a minute manner, the serious symptoms of her ailment during these few days." Chia Jung having signified his obedience to each of her recommendations, and taken his leave, was just in time to meet the youth coming back from Feng Tzu-ying's house, whither he had gone a short while back to invite the doctor round. "Your slave," he consequently reported, "has just been with a card of master's to Mr. Feng's house and asked the doctor to come. 'The gentleman here,' replied the doctor, 'has just told me about it; but to-day, I've had to call on people the whole day, and I've only this moment come home; and I feel now my strength (so worn out), that I couldn't really stand any exertion. In fact were I even to get as far as the mansion, I shouldn't be in a fit state to diagnose the pulses! I must therefore have a night's rest, but, to-morrow for certain, I shall come to the mansion. My medical knowledge,' he went on to observe, 'is very shallow, and I don't deserve the honour of such eminent recommendation; but as Mr. Feng has already thus spoken of me in your mansion, I can't but present myself. It will be all right if in anticipation you deliver this message for me to your honourable master; but as for your worthy master's card, I cannot really presume to keep it.' It was again at his instance that I've brought it back; but, Sir, please mention this result for me (to master)." Chia Jung turned back again, and entering the house delivered the message to Chia Chen and Mrs. Yu; whereupon he walked out, and, calling Lai Sheng before him, he transmitted to him the orders to prepare the banquet for a couple of days. After Lai Sheng had listened to the directions, he went off, of course, to get ready the customary preparations; but upon these we shall not dilate, but confine ourselves to the next day. At noon, a servant on duty at the gate announced that the Doctor Chang, who had been sent for, had come, and Chia Chen conducted him along the Court into the large reception Hall, where they sat down; and after they had partaken of tea, he broached the subject. "Yesterday," he explained, "the estimable Mr. Feng did me the honour to speak to me of your character and proficiency, venerable doctor, as well as of your thorough knowledge of medicine, and I, your mean brother, was filled with an immeasurable sense of admiration!" "Your Junior," remonstrated Dr. Chang, "is a coarse, despicable and mean scholar and my knowledge is shallow and vile! but as worthy Mr. Feng did me the honour yesterday of telling me that your family, sir, had condescended to look upon me, a low scholar, and to favour me too with an invitation, could I presume not to obey your commands? But as I cannot boast of the least particle of real learning, I feel overburdened with shame!" "Why need you be so modest?" observed Chia Chen; "Doctor, do please walk in at once to see our son's wife, for I look up, with full reliance, to your lofty intelligence to dispel my solicitude!" Chia Jung forthwith walked in with him. When they reached the inner apartment, and he caught sight of Mrs. Ch'in, he turned round and asked Chia Jung, "This is your honourable spouse, isn't it?" "Yes, it is," assented Chia Jung; "but please, Doctor, take a seat, and let me tell you the symptoms of my humble wife's ailment, before her pulse be felt. Will this do?" "My mean idea is," remarked the Doctor, "that it would, after all, be better that I should begin by feeling her pulse, before I ask you to inform me what the source of the ailment is. This is the first visit I pay to your honourable mansion; besides, I possess no knowledge of anything; but as our worthy Mr. Feng would insist upon my coming over to see you, I had in consequence no alternative but to come. After I have now made a diagnosis, you can judge whether what I say is right or not, before you explain to me the phases of the complaint during the last few days, and we can deliberate together upon some prescription; as to the suitableness or unsuitableness of which your honourable father will then have to decide, and what is necessary will have been done." "Doctor," rejoined Chia Jung, "you are indeed eminently clear sighted; all I regret at present is that we have met so late! But please, Doctor, diagnose the state of the pulse, so as to find out whether there be hope of a cure or not; if a cure can be effected, it will be the means of allaying the solicitude of my father and mother." The married women attached to that menage forthwith presented a pillow; and as it was being put down for Mrs. Ch'in to rest her arm on, they raised the lower part of her sleeve so as to leave her wrist exposed. The Doctor thereupon put out his hand and pressed it on the pulse of the right hand. Regulating his breath (to the pulsation) so as to be able to count the beatings, he with due care and minuteness felt the action for a considerable time, when, substituting the left hand, he again went through the same operation. "Let us go and sit outside," he suggested, after he had concluded feeling her pulses. Chia Jung readily adjourned, in company with the Doctor, to the outer apartment, where they seated themselves on the stove-couch. A matron having served tea; "Please take a cup of tea, doctor," Chia Jung observed. When tea was over, "Judging," he inquired, "Doctor, from the present action of the pulses, is there any remedy or not?" "The action of the pulse, under the forefinger, on the left hand of your honorable spouse," proceeded the Doctor, "is deep and agitated; the left hand pulse, under the second finger, is deep and faint. The pulse, under the forefinger, of the right hand, is gentle and lacks vitality. The right hand pulse, under my second finger, is superficial, and has lost all energy. The deep and agitated beating of the forepulse of the left hand arises from the febrile state, due to the weak action of the heart. The deep and delicate condition of the second part of the pulse of the left wrist, emanates from the sluggishness of the liver, and the scarcity of the blood in that organ. The action of the forefinger pulse, of the right wrist, is faint and lacks strength, as the breathing of the lungs is too weak. The second finger pulse of the right wrist is superficial and devoid of vigour, as the spleen must be affected injuriously by the liver. The weak action of the heart, and its febrile state, should be the natural causes which conduce to the present irregularity in the catamenia, and insomnia at night; the poverty of blood in the liver, and the sluggish condition of that organ must necessarily produce pain in the ribs; while the overdue of the catamenia, the cardiac fever, and debility of the respiration of the lungs, should occasion frequent giddiness in the head, and swimming of the eyes, the certain recurrence of perspiration between the periods of 3 to 5 and 5 to 7, and the sensation of being seated on board ship. The obstruction of the spleen by the liver should naturally create distaste for liquid or food, debility of the vital energies and prostration of the four limbs. From my diagnosis of these pulses, there should exist these various symptoms, before (the pulses and the symptoms can be said) to harmonise. But should perchance (any doctor maintain) that this state of the pulses imports a felicitous event, your servant will not presume to give an ear to such an opinion!" A matron, who was attached as a personal attendant (to Mrs. Ch'in,) and who happened to be standing by interposed: "How could it be otherwise?" she ventured. "In real truth, Doctor, you speak like a supernatural being, and there's verily no need for us to say anything! We have now, ready at hand, in our household, a good number of medical gentlemen, who are in attendance upon her, but none of these are proficient enough to speak in this positive manner. Some there are who say that it's a genital complaint; others maintain that it's an organic disease. This doctor explains that there is no danger: while another, again, holds that there's fear of a crisis either before or after the winter solstice; but there is, in one word, nothing certain said by them. May it please you, sir, now to favour us with your clear directions." "This complaint of your lady's," observed the Doctor, "has certainly been neglected by the whole number of doctors; for had a treatment with certain medicines been initiated at the time of the first occurrence of her habitual sickness, I cannot but opine that, by this time, a perfect cure would have been effected. But seeing that the organic complaint has now been, through neglect, allowed to reach this phase, this calamity was, in truth, inevitable. My ideas are that this illness stands, as yet, a certain chance of recovery, (three chances out of ten); but we will see how she gets on, after she has had these medicines of mine. Should they prove productive of sleep at night, then there will be added furthermore two more chances in the grip of our hands. From my diagnosis, your lady is a person, gifted with a preëminently excellent, and intelligent disposition; but an excessive degree of intelligence is the cause of frequent contrarieties; and frequent contrarieties give origin to an excessive amount of anxious cares. This illness arises from the injury done, by worrying and fretting, to the spleen, and from the inordinate vigour of the liver; hence it is that the relief cannot come at the proper time and season. Has not your lady, may I ask, heretofore at the period of the catamenia, suffered, if indeed not from anaemia, then necessarily from plethora? Am I right in assuming this or not?" "To be sure she did," replied the matron; "but she has never been subject to anaemia, but to a plethora, varying from either two to three days, and extending, with much irregularity, to even ten days." "Quite so!" observed the Doctor, after hearing what she had to say, "and this is the source of this organic illness! Had it in past days been treated with such medicine as could strengthen the heart, and improve the respiration, would it have reached this stage? This has now overtly made itself manifest in an ailment originating from the paucity of water and the vigour of fire; but let me make use of some medicines, and we'll see how she gets on!" There and then he set to work and wrote a prescription, which he handed to Chia Jung, the purpose of which was: Decoction for the improvement of respiration, the betterment of the blood, and the restoration of the spleen. Ginseng, Atractylodes Lancea; Yunnan root; Prepared Ti root; Aralia edulis; Peony roots; Levisticum from Sze Ch'uan; Sophora tormentosa; Cyperus rotundus, prepared with rice; Gentian, soaked in vinegar; Huai Shan Yao root; Real "O" glue; Carydalis Ambigua; and Dried liquorice. Seven Fukien lotus seeds, (the cores of which should be extracted,) and two large zizyphi to be used as a preparative. "What exalted intelligence!" Chia Jung, after perusing it, exclaimed. "But I would also ask you, Doctor, to be good enough to tell me whether this illness will, in the long run, endanger her life or not?" The Doctor smiled. "You, sir, who are endowed with most eminent intelligence (are certain to know) that when a human illness has reached this phase, it is not a derangement of a day or of a single night; but after these medicines have been taken, we shall also have to watch the effect of the treatment! My humble opinion is that, as far as the winter of this year goes, there is no fear; in fact, after the spring equinox, I entertain hopes of a complete cure." Chia Jung was likewise a person with all his wits about him, so that he did not press any further minute questions. Chia Jung forthwith escorted the Doctor and saw him off, and taking the prescription and the diagnosis, he handed them both to Chia Chen for his perusal, and in like manner recounted to Chia Chen and Mrs. Yu all that had been said on the subject. "The other doctors have hitherto not expressed any opinions as positive as this one has done," observed Mrs. Yu, addressing herself to Chia Chen, "so that the medicines to be used are, I think, surely the right ones!" "He really isn't a man," rejoined Chia Chen, "accustomed to give much of his time to the practice of medicine, in order to earn rice for his support: and it's Feng Tzu-ying, who is so friendly with us, who is mainly to be thanked for succeeding, after ever so much trouble, in inducing him to come. But now that we have this man, the illness of our son's wife may, there is no saying, stand a chance of being cured. But on that prescription of his there is ginseng mentioned, so you had better make use of that catty of good quality which was bought the other day." Chia Jung listened until the conversation came to a close, after which he left the room, and bade a servant go and buy the medicines, in order that they should be prepared and administered to Mrs. Ch'in. What was the state of Mrs. Ch'in's illness, after she partook of these medicines, we do not know; but, reader, listen to the explanation given in the chapter which follows. CHAPTER XI. In honour of Chia Ching's birthday, a family banquet is spread in the Ning Mansion. At the sight of Hsi-feng, Chia Jui entertains feelings of licentious love. We will now explain, in continuation of our story, that on the day of Chia Ching's birthday, Chia Chen began by getting ready luscious delicacies and rare fruits, which he packed in sixteen spacious present boxes, and bade Chia Jung take them, along with the servants belonging to the household, over to Chia Ching. Turning round towards Chia Jung: "Mind," he said, "that you observe whether your grandfather be agreeable or not, before you set to work and pay your obeisance! 'My father,' tell him, 'has complied with your directions, venerable senior, and not presumed to come over; but he has at home ushered the whole company of the members of the family (into your apartments), where they all paid their homage facing the side of honour.'" After Chia Jung had listened to these injunctions, he speedily led off the family domestics, and took his departure. During this interval, one by one arrived the guests. First came Chia Lien and Chia Se, who went to see whether the seats in the various places (were sufficient). "Is there to be any entertainment or not?" they also inquired. "Our master," replied the servants, "had, at one time, intended to invite the venerable Mr. Chia Ching to come and spend this day at home, and hadn't for this reason presumed to get up any entertainment. But when the other day he came to hear that the old gentleman was not coming, he at once gave us orders to go in search of a troupe of young actors, as well as a band of musicians, and all these people are now engaged making their preparations on the stage in the garden." Next came, in a group, mesdames Hsing and Wang, lady Feng and Pao-yü, followed immediately after by Chia Chen and Mrs. Yu; Mrs. Yu's mother having already arrived and being in there in advance of her. Salutations were exchanged between the whole company, and they pressed one another to take a seat. Chia Chen and Mrs. Yu both handed the tea round. "Our venerable lady," they explained, as they smiled, "is a worthy senior; while our father is, on the other hand, only her nephew; so that on a birthday of a man of his age, we should really not have had the audacity to invite her ladyship; but as the weather, at this time, is cool, and the chrysanthemums, in the whole garden, are in luxuriant blossom, we have requested our venerable ancestor to come for a little distraction, and to see the whole number of her children and grand-children amuse themselves. This was the object we had in view, but, contrary to our expectations, our worthy senior has not again conferred upon us the lustre of her countenance." Lady Feng did not wait until madame Wang could open her mouth, but took the initiative to reply. "Our venerable lady," she urged, "had, even so late as yesterday, said that she meant to come; but, in the evening, upon seeing brother Pao eating peaches, the mouth of the old lady once again began to water, and after partaking of a little more than the half of one, she had, about the fifth watch, to get out of bed two consecutive times, with the result that all the forenoon to-day, she felt her body considerably worn out. She therefore bade me inform our worthy senior that it was utterly impossible for her to come to-day; adding however that, if there were any delicacies, she fancied a few kinds, but that they should be very tender." When Chia Chen heard these words, he smiled. "Our dowager lady," he replied, "is, I argued, so fond of amusement that, if she doesn't come to-day, there must, for a certainty, be some valid reason; and that's exactly what happens to be the case." "The other day I heard your eldest sister explain," interposed madame Wang, "that Chia Jung's wife was anything but well; but what's after all the matter with her?" "She has," observed Mrs. Yu, "contracted this illness verily in a strange manner! Last moon at the time of the mid-autumn festival, she was still well enough to be able to enjoy herself, during half the night, in company with our dowager lady and madame Wang. On her return, she continued in good health, until after the twentieth, when she began to feel more and more languid every day, and loth, likewise, to eat anything; and this has been going on for well-nigh half a month and more; she hasn't besides been anything like her old self for two months." "May she not," remarked madame Hsing, taking up the thread of the conversation, "be ailing for some happy event?" But while she was uttering these words, some one from outside announced: "Our senior master, second master and all the gentlemen of the family have come, and are standing in the Reception Hall!" Whereupon Chia Chen and Chia Lien quitted the apartment with hurried step; and during this while, Mrs. Yu reiterated how that some time ago a doctor had also expressed the opinion that she was ailing for a happy event, but that the previous day, had come a doctor, recommended by Feng Tzu-ying--a doctor, who had from his youth up made medicine his study, and was very proficient in the treatment of diseases,--who asserted, after he had seen her, that it was no felicitous ailment, but that it was some grave complaint. "It was only yesterday," (she explained,) "that he wrote his prescription; and all she has had is but one dose, and already to-day the giddiness in the head is considerably better; as regards the other symptoms they have as yet shown no marked improvement." "I maintain," remarked lady Feng, "that, were she not quite unfit to stand the exertion, would she in fact, on a day like this, be unwilling to strain every nerve and come round." "You saw her," observed Mrs. Yu, "on the third in here; how that she bore up with a violent effort for ever so long, but it was all because of the friendship that exists between you two, that she still longed for your society, and couldn't brook the idea of tearing herself away." When lady Feng heard these words, her eyes got quite red, and after a time she at length exclaimed: "In the Heavens of a sudden come wind and rain; while with man, in a day and in a night, woe and weal survene! But with her tender years, if for a complaint like this she were to run any risk, what pleasure is there for any human being to be born and to sojourn in the world?" She was just speaking, when Chia Jung walked into the apartment; and after paying his respects to madame Hsing, madame Wang, and lady Feng, he then observed to Mrs. Yu: "I have just taken over the eatables to our venerable ancestor; and, at the same time, I told him that my father was at home waiting upon the senior, and entertaining the junior gentlemen of the whole family, and that in compliance with grandfather's orders, he did not presume to go over. The old gentleman was much delighted by what he heard me say, and having signified that that was all in order, bade me tell father and you, mother, to do all you can in your attendance upon the senior gentlemen and ladies, enjoining me to entertain, with all propriety, my uncles, aunts, and my cousins. He also went on to urge me to press the men to cut, with all despatch, the blocks for the Record of Meritorious Deeds, and to print ten thousand copies for distribution. All these messages I have duly delivered to my father, but I must now be quick and go out, so as to send the eatables for the elder as well as for the younger gentlemen of the entire household." "Brother Jung Erh," exclaimed lady Feng, "wait a moment. How is your wife getting on? how is she, after all, to-day?" "Not well," replied Chia Jung. "But were you, aunt, on your return to go in and see her, you will find out for yourself." Chia Jung forthwith left the room. During this interval, Mrs. Yu addressed herself to mesdames Hsing and Wang; "My ladies," she asked, "will you have your repast in here, or will you go into the garden for it? There are now in the garden some young actors engaged in making their preparations?" "It's better in here," madame Wang remarked, as she turned towards madame Hsing. Mrs. Yu thereupon issued directions to the married women and matrons to be quick in serving the eatables. The servants, in waiting outside the door, with one voice signified their obedience; and each of them went off to fetch what fell to her share. In a short while, the courses were all laid out, and Mrs. Yu pressed mesdames Hsing and Wang, as well as her mother, into the upper seats; while she, together with lady Feng and Pao-yü, sat at a side table. "We've come," observed mesdames Hsing and Wang, "with the original idea of paying our congratulations to our venerable senior on the occasion of his birthday; and isn't this as if we had come for our own birthdays?" "The old gentleman," answered lady Feng, "is a man fond of a quiet life; and as he has already consummated a process of purification, he may well be looked upon as a supernatural being, so that the purpose to which your ladyships have given expression may be considered as manifest to his spirit, upon the very advent of the intention." As this sentence was uttered the whole company in the room burst out laughing. Mrs. Yu's mother, mesdames Hsing and Wang, and lady Feng having one and all partaken of the banquet, rinsed their mouths and washed their hands, which over, they expressed a wish to go into the garden. Chia Jung entered the room. "The senior gentlemen," he said to Mrs. Yu, "as well as all my uncles and cousins, have finished their repast; but the elder gentleman Mr. Chia She, who excused himself on the score of having at home something to attend to, and Mr. Secundus (Chia Cheng), who is not partial to theatrical performances and is always afraid that people will be too boisterous in their entertainments, have both of them taken their departure. The rest of the family gentlemen have been taken over by uncle Secundus Mr. Lien, and Mr. Se, to the other side to listen to the play. A few moments back Prince Nan An, Prince Tung P'ing, Prince Hsi Ning, Prince Pei Ching, these four Princes, with Niu, Duke of Chen Kuo, and five other dukes, six in all, and Shih, Marquis of Chung Ching, and other seven, in all eight marquises, sent their messengers with their cards and presents. I have already told father all about it; but before I did so, the presents were put away in the counting room, the lists of presents were all entered in the book, and the 'received with thanks' cards were handed to the respective messengers of the various mansions; the men themselves were also tipped in the customary manner, and all of them were kept to have something to eat before they went on their way. But, mother, you should invite the two ladies, your mother and my aunt, to go over and sit in the garden." "Just so!" observed Mrs. Yu, "but we've only now finished our repast, and were about to go over." "I wish to tell you, madame," interposed lady Feng, "that I shall go first and see brother Jung's wife and then come and join you." "All right," replied madame Wang; "we should all have been fain to have paid her a visit, did we not fear lest she should look upon our disturbing her with displeasure, but just tell her that we would like to know how she is getting on!" "My dear sister," remarked Mrs. Yu, "as our son's wife has a ready ear for all you say, do go and cheer her up, (and if you do so,) it will besides set my own mind at ease; but be quick and come as soon as you can into the garden." Pao-yü being likewise desirous to go along with lady Feng to see lady Ch'in, madame Wang remarked, "Go and see her just for a while, and then come over at once into the garden; (for remember) she is your nephew's wife, (and you couldn't sit in there long)." Mrs. Yu forthwith invited mesdames Wang and Hsing, as well as her own mother, to adjourn to the other side, and they all in a body walked into the garden of Concentrated Fragrance; while lady Feng and Pao-yü betook themselves, in company with Chia Jung, over to this side. Having entered the door, they with quiet step walked as far as the entrance of the inner chamber. Mrs. Ch'in, upon catching sight of them, was bent upon getting up; but "Be quick," remonstrated lady Feng, "and give up all idea of standing up; for take care your head will feel dizzy." Lady Feng hastened to make a few hurried steps forward and to grasp Mrs. Ch'in's hand in hers. "My dear girl!" she exclaimed; "How is it that during the few days I've not seen you, you have grown so thin?" Readily she then took a seat on the rug, on which Mrs. Ch'in was seated, while Pao-yü, after inquiring too about her health, sat in the chair on the opposite side. "Bring the tea in at once," called out Chia Jung, "for aunt and uncle Secundus have not had any tea in the drawing room." Mrs. Ch'in took lady Feng's hand in her own and forced a smile. "This is all due to my lack of good fortune; for in such a family as this, my father and mother-in-law treat me just as if I were a daughter of their own flesh and blood! Besides, your nephew, (my husband,) may, it is true, my dear aunt, be young in years, but he is full of regard for me, as I have regard for him, and we have had so far no misunderstanding between us! In fact, among the senior generation, as well as that of the same age as myself, in the whole clan, putting you aside, aunt, about whom no mention need be made, there is not one who has not ever had anything but love for me, and not one who has not ever shown me anything but kindness! But since I've fallen ill with this complaint, all my energy has even every bit of it been taken out of me, so that I've been unable to show to my father and mother-in-law any mark of filial attention, yea so much as for one single day and to you, my dear aunt, with all this affection of yours for me, I have every wish to be dutiful to the utmost degree, but, in my present state, I'm really not equal to it; my own idea is, that it isn't likely that I shall last through this year." Pao-yü kept, while (she spoke,) his eyes fixed intently upon a picture on the opposite side, representing some begonias drooping in the spring time, and upon a pair of scrolls, with this inscription written by Ch'in Tai-hsü: A gentle chill doth circumscribe the dreaming man because the spring is cold! The fragrant whiff which wafts itself into man's nose, is the perfume of wine! And he could not help recalling to mind his experiences at the time when he had fallen asleep in this apartment, and had, in his dream, visited the confines of the Great Void. He was just plunged in a state of abstraction, when he heard Mrs. Ch'in give utterance to these sentiments, which pierced his heart as if they were ten thousand arrows, (with the result that) tears unwittingly trickled from his eyes. Lady Feng perceiving him in tears felt it extremely painful within herself to bear the sight; but she was on pins and needles lest the patient should detect their frame of mind, and feel, instead (of benefit), still more sore at heart, which would not, after all, be quite the purpose of her visit; which was to afford her distraction and consolation. "Pao-yü," she therefore exclaimed, "you are like an old woman! Ill, as she is, simply makes her speak in this wise, and how ever could things come to such a pass! Besides, she is young in years, so that after a short indisposition, her illness will get all right!" "Don't," she said as she turned towards Mrs. Ch'in, "give way to silly thoughts and idle ideas! for by so doing won't you yourself be aggravating your ailment?" "All that her sickness in fact needs," observed Chia Jung, "is, that she should be able to take something to eat, and then there will be nothing to fear." "Brother Pao," urged lady Feng, "your mother told you to go over, as soon as you could, so that don't stay here, and go on in the way you're doing, for you after all incite this lady also to feel uneasy at heart. Besides, your mother over there is solicitous on your account." "You had better go ahead with your uncle Pao," she consequently continued, addressing herself to Chia Jung, "while I sit here a little longer." When Chia Jung heard this remark, he promptly crossed over with Pao-yü into the garden of Concentrated Fragrance, while lady Feng went on both to cheer her up for a time, and to impart to her, in an undertone, a good deal of confidential advice. Mrs. Yu had despatched servants, on two or three occasions, to hurry lady Feng, before she said to Mrs. Ch'in: "Do all you can to take good care of yourself, and I'll come and see you again. You're bound to get over this illness; and now, in fact, that you've come across that renowned doctor, you have really nothing more to fear." "He might," observed Mrs. Ch'in as she smiled, "even be a supernatural being and succeed in healing my disease, but he won't be able to remedy my destiny; for, my dear aunt, I feel sure that with this complaint of mine, I can do no more than drag on from day to day." "If you encourage such ideas," remonstrated lady Feng, "how can this illness ever get all right? What you absolutely need is to cast away all these notions, and then you'll improve. I hear moreover that the doctor asserts that if no cure be effected, the fear is of a change for the worse in spring, and not till then. Did you and I moreover belong to a family that hadn't the means to afford any ginseng, it would be difficult to say how we could manage to get it; but were your father and mother-in-law to hear that it's good for your recovery, why not to speak of two mace of ginseng a day, but even two catties will be also within their means! So mind you do take every care of your health! I'm now off on my way into the garden." "Excuse me, my dear aunt," added Mrs. Ch'in, "that I can't go with you; but when you have nothing to do, I entreat you do come over and see me! and you and I can sit and have a long chat." After lady Feng had heard these words, her eyes unwillingly got quite red again. "When I'm at leisure I shall, of course," she rejoined, "come often to see you;" and forthwith leading off the matrons and married women, who had come over with her, as well as the women and matrons of the Ning mansion, she passed through the inner part of the house, and entered, by a circuitous way, the side gate of the park, when she perceived: yellow flowers covering the ground; white willows flanking the slopes; diminutive bridges spanning streams, resembling the Jo Yeh; zigzag pathways (looking as if) they led to the steps of Heaven; limpid springs dripping from among the rocks; flowers hanging from hedges emitting their fragrance, as they were flapped by the winds; red leaves on the tree tops swaying to and fro; groves picture-like, half stripped of foliage; the western breeze coming with sudden gusts, and the wail of the oriole still audible; the warm sun shining with genial rays, and the cicada also adding its chirp: structures, visible to the gaze at a distance in the South-east, soaring high on various sites and resting against the hills; three halls, visible near by on the North-west, stretching in one connected line, on the bank of the stream; strains of music filling the pavilion, imbued with an unwonted subtle charm; and maidens in fine attire penetrating the groves, lending an additional spell to the scene. Lady Feng, while engaged in contemplating the beauties of the spot, advanced onwards step by step. She was plunged in a state of ecstasy, when suddenly, from the rear of the artificial rockery, egressed a person, who approached her and facing her said, "My respects to you, sister-in-law." Lady Feng was so startled by this unexpected appearance that she drew back. "Isn't this Mr. Jui?" she ventured. "What! sister-in-law," exclaimed Chia Jui, "don't you recognise even me?" "It isn't that I didn't recognise you," explained lady Feng, "but at the sudden sight of you, I couldn't conceive that it would possibly be you, sir, in this place!" "This was in fact bound to be," replied Chia Jui; "for there's some subtle sympathy between me and you, sister-in-law. Here I just stealthily leave the entertainment, in order to revel for a while in this solitary place when, against every expectation, I come across you, sister-in-law; and isn't this a subtle sympathy?" As he spoke, he kept his gaze fixed on lady Feng, who being an intelligent person, could not but arrive, at the sight of his manner, at the whole truth in her surmises. "It isn't to be wondered at," she consequently observed, as she smiled hypocritically, "that your eldest brother should make frequent allusion to your qualities! for after seeing you on this occasion, and hearing you utter these few remarks, I have readily discovered what an intelligent and genial person you are! I am just now on my way to join the ladies on the other side, and have no leisure to converse with you; but wait until I've nothing to attend to, when we can meet again." "I meant to have gone over to your place and paid my respects to you, sister-in-law," pleaded Chia Jui, "but I was afraid lest a person of tender years like yourself mightn't lightly receive any visitors!" Lady Feng gave another sardonic smile. "Relatives," she continued, "of one family, as we are, what need is there to say anything of tender years?" After Chia Jui had heard these words, he felt his heart swell within him with such secret joy that he was urged to reflect: "I have at length to-day, when least I expected it, obtained this remarkable encounter with her!" But as the display of his passion became still more repulsive, lady Feng urged him to go. "Be off at once," she remarked, "and join the entertainment; for mind, if they find you out, they will mulct you in so many glasses of wine!" By the time this suggestion had reached Chia Jui's ears, half of his body had become stiff like a log of wood; and as he betook himself away, with lothful step, he turned his head round to cast glances at her. Lady Feng purposely slackened her pace; and when she perceived that he had gone a certain distance, she gave way to reflection. "This is indeed," she thought, "knowing a person, as far as face goes, and not as heart! Can there be another such a beast as he! If he really continues to behave in this manner, I shall soon enough compass his death, with my own hands, and he'll then know what stuff I'm made of." Lady Feng, at this juncture moved onward, and after turning round a chain of hillocks, she caught sight of two or three matrons coming along with all speed. As soon as they espied lady Feng they put on a smile. "Our mistress," they said, "perceiving that your ladyship was not forthcoming, has been in a great state of anxiety, and bade your servants come again to request you to come over. "Is your mistress," observed lady Feng, "so like a quick-footed demon?" While lady Feng advanced leisurely, she inquired, "How many plays have been recited?" to which question one of the matrons replied, "They have gone through eight or nine." But while engaged in conversation, they had already reached the back door of the Tower of Celestial Fragrance, where she caught sight of Pao-yü playing with a company of waiting-maids and pages. "Brother Pao," lady Feng exclaimed, "don't be up to too much mischief!" "The ladies are all sitting upstairs," interposed one of the maids. "Please, my lady, this is the way up." At these words lady Feng slackened her pace, raised her dress, and walked up the stairs, where Mrs. Yu was already at the top of the landing waiting for her. "You two," remarked Mrs. Yu, smiling, "are so friendly, that having met you couldn't possibly tear yourself away to come. You had better to-morrow move over there and take up your quarters with her and have done; but sit down and let me, first of all, present you a glass of wine." Lady Feng speedily drew near mesdames Hsing and Wang, and begged permission to take a seat; while Mrs. Yu brought the programme, and pressed lady Feng to mark some plays. "The senior ladies occupy the seats of honour," remonstrated lady Feng, "and how can I presume to choose?" "We, and our relative by marriage, have selected several plays," explained mesdames Hsing and Wang, "and it's for you now to choose some good ones for us to listen to." Standing up, lady Feng signified her obedience; and taking over the programme, and perusing it from top to bottom, she marked off one entitled, the "Return of the Spirit," and another called "Thrumming and Singing;" after which she handed back the programme, observing, "When they have done with the 'Ennoblement of two Officers,' which they are singing just at present, it will be time enough to sing these two." "Of course it will," retorted madame Wang, "but they should get it over as soon as they can, so as to allow your elder Brother and your Sister-in-law to have rest; besides, their hearts are not at ease." "You senior ladies don't come often," expostulated Mrs. Yu, "and you and I will derive more enjoyment were we to stay a little longer; it's as yet early in the day!" Lady Feng stood up and looked downstairs. "Where have all the gentlemen gone to?" she inquired. "The gentlemen have just gone over to the Pavilion of Plenteous Effulgence," replied a matron, who stood by; "they have taken along with them ten musicians and gone in there to drink their wine." "It wasn't convenient for them," remarked lady Feng, "to be over here; but who knows what they have again gone to do behind our backs?" "Could every one," interposed Mrs. Yu, "resemble you, a person of such propriety!" While they indulged in chatting and laughing, the plays they had chosen were all finished; whereupon the tables were cleared of the wines, and the repast was served. The meal over, the whole company adjourned into the garden, and came and sat in the drawing-room. After tea, they at length gave orders to get ready the carriages, and they took their leave of Mrs. Yu's mother. Mrs. Yu, attended by all the secondary wives, servants, and married women, escorted them out, while Chia Chen, along with the whole bevy of young men, stood by the vehicles, waiting in a group for their arrival. After saluting mesdames Hsing and Wang, "Aunts," they said, "you must come over again to-morrow for a stroll." "We must be excused," observed madame Wang, "we've sat here the whole day to-day, and are, after all, feeling quite tired; besides, we shall need to have some rest to-morrow." Both of them thereupon got into their carriages and took their departure, while Chia Jui still kept a fixed gaze upon lady Feng; and it was after Chia Chen had gone in that Li Kuei led round the horse, and that Pao-yü mounted and went off, following in the track of mesdames Hsing and Wang. Chia Chen and the whole number of brothers and nephews belonging to the family had, during this interval, partaken of their meal, and the whole party at length broke up. But in like manner, all the inmates of the clan and the guests spent on the morrow another festive day, but we need not advert to it with any minuteness. After this occasion, lady Feng came in person and paid frequent visits to Mrs. Ch'in; but as there were some days on which her ailment was considerably better, and others on which it was considerably worse, Chia Chen, Mrs. Yu, and Chia Jung were in an awful state of anxiety. Chia Jui, it must moreover be noticed, came over, on several instances, on a visit to the Jung mansion; but it invariably happened that he found that lady Feng had gone over to the Ning mansion. This was just the thirtieth of the eleventh moon, the day on which the winter solstice fell; and the few days preceding that season, dowager lady Chia, madame Wang and lady Feng did not let one day go by without sending some one to inquire about Mrs. Ch'in; and as the servants, on their return, repeatedly reported that, during the last few days, neither had her ailment aggravated, nor had it undergone any marked improvement, madame Wang explained to dowager lady Chia, that as a complaint of this nature had reached this kind of season without getting any worse, there was some hope of recovery. "Of course there is!" observed the old lady; "what a dear child she is! should anything happen to her, won't it be enough to make people die from grief!" and as she spake she felt for a time quite sore at heart. "You and she," continuing, she said to lady Feng, "have been friends for ever so long; to-morrow is the glorious first (and you can't go), but after to-morrow you should pay her a visit and minutely scrutinise her appearance: and should you find her any better, come and tell me on your return! Whatever things that dear child has all along a fancy for, do send her round a few even as often as you can by some one or other!" Lady Feng assented to each of her recommendations; and when the second arrived, she came, after breakfast, to the Ning mansion to see how Mrs. Ch'in was getting on; and though she found her none the worse, the flesh all over her face and person had however become emaciated and parched up. She readily sat with Mrs. Ch'in for a long while, and after they had chatted on one thing and another, she again reiterated the assurances that this illness involved no danger, and distracted her for ever so long. "Whether I get well or not," observed Mrs. Ch'in, "we'll know in spring; now winter is just over, and I'm anyhow no worse, so that possibly I may get all right; and yet there's no saying; but, my dear sister-in-law, do press our old lady to compose her mind! yesterday, her ladyship sent me some potato dumplings, with minced dates in them, and though I had two, they seem after all to be very easily digested!" "I'll send you round some more to-morrow," lady Feng suggested; "I'm now going to look up your mother-in-law, and will then hurry back to give my report to our dowager lady." "Please, sister-in-law," Mrs. Ch'in said, "present my best respects to her venerable ladyship, as well as to madame Wang." Lady Feng signified that she would comply with her wishes, and, forthwith leaving the apartment, she came over and sat in Mrs. Yu's suite of rooms. "How do you, who don't see our son's wife very often, happen to find her?" inquired Mrs. Yu. Lady Feng drooped her head for some time. "There's no help," she ventured, "for this illness! but you should likewise make every subsequent preparation, for it would also be well if you could scour it away." "I've done so much as to secretly give orders," replied Mrs. Yu, "to get things ready; but for that thing (the coffin), there's no good timber to be found, so that it will have to be looked after by and by." Lady Feng swallowed hastily a cup of tea, and after a short chat, "I must be hurrying back," she remarked, "to deliver my message to our dowager lady!" "You should," urged Mrs. Yu, "be sparse in what you tell her lady ship so as not to frighten an old person like her!" "I know well enough what to say," replied lady Feng. Without any further delay, lady Feng then sped back. On her arrival at home she looked up the old lady. "Brother Jung's wife," she explained, "presents her compliments, and pays obeisance to your venerable ladyship; she says that she's much better, and entreats you, her worthy senior, to set your mind at ease! That as soon as she's a little better she will come and prostrate herself before your ladyship." "How do you find her?" inquired dowager lady Chia. "For the present there's nothing to fear," continued lady Feng; "for her mien is still good." After the old lady had heard these words, she was plunged for a long while in deep reflection; and as she turned towards lady Feng, "Go and divest yourself of your toilette," she said, "and have some rest." Lady Feng in consequence signified her obedience, and walked away, returning home after paying madame Wang a visit. P'ing Erh helped lady Feng to put on the house costume, which she had warmed by the fire, and lady Feng eventually took a seat and asked "whether there was anything doing at home?" P'ing Erh then brought the tea, and after going over to hand the cup: "There's nothing doing," she replied; "as regards the interest on the three hundred taels, Wang Erh's wife has brought it in, and I've put it away. Besides this, Mr. Jui sent round to inquire if your ladyship was at home or not, as he meant to come and pay his respects and to have a chat." "Heng!" exclaimed lady Feng at these words. "Why should this beast compass his own death? we'll see when he comes what is to be done." "Why is this Mr. Jui so bent upon coming?' P'ing Erh having inquired, lady Feng readily gave her an account of how she had met him in the course of the ninth moon in the Ning mansion, and of what had been said by him. "What a mangy frog to be bent upon eating the flesh of a heavenly goose!" ejaculated P'ing Erh. "A stupid and disorderly fellow with no conception of relationship, to harbour such a thought! but we'll make him find an unnatural death!" "Wait till he comes," added lady Feng, "when I feel certain I shall find some way." What happened, however, when Chia Jui came has not, as yet, been ascertained, but listen, reader, to the explanation given in the next chapter. CHAPTER XII. Wang Hsi-feng maliciously lays a trap for Chia Jui, under pretence that his affection is reciprocated. Chia T'ien-hsiang gazes at the face of the mirror of Voluptuousness. Lady Feng, it must be noticed in continuation of our narrative, was just engaged in talking with P'ing Erh, when they heard some one announce that Mr. Jui had come. Lady Feng gave orders that he should be invited to step in, and Chia Jui perceiving that he had been asked to walk in was at heart elated at the prospect of seeing her. With a face beaming with smiles, Lady Feng inquired again and again how he was; and, with simulated tenderness she further pressed him to take a seat and urged him to have a cup of tea. Chia Jui noticed how still more voluptuous lady Feng looked in her present costume, and, as his eyes burnt with love, "How is it," he inquired, "that my elder brother Secundus is not yet back?" "What the reason is I cannot tell," lady Feng said by way of reply. "May it not be," Chia Jui smilingly insinuated, "that some fair damsel has got hold of him on the way, and that he cannot brook to tear himself from her to come home?" "That makes it plain that there are those among men who fall in love with any girl they cast their eyes on," hinted lady Feng. "Your remarks are, sister-in-law, incorrect, for I'm none of this kind!" Chia Jui explained smirkingly. "How many like you can there be!" rejoined lady Feng with a sarcastic smile; "in ten, not one even could be picked out!" When Chia Jui heard these words, he felt in such high glee that he rubbed his ears and smoothed his cheeks. "My sister-in-law," he continued, "you must of course be extremely lonely day after day." "Indeed I am," observed lady Feng, "and I only wish some one would come and have a chat with me to break my dull monotony." "I daily have ample leisure," Chia Jui ventured with a simper, "and wouldn't it be well if I came every day to dispel your dulness, sister-in-law?" "You are simply fooling me," exclaimed lady Feng laughing. "It isn't likely you would wish to come over here to me?" "If in your presence, sister-in-law, I utter a single word of falsehood, may the thunder from heaven blast me!" protested Chia Jui. "It's only because I had all along heard people say that you were a dreadful person, and that you cannot condone even the slightest shortcoming committed in your presence, that I was induced to keep back by fear; but after seeing you, on this occasion, so chatty, so full of fun and most considerate to others, how can I not come? were it to be the cause of my death, I would be even willing to come!" "You're really a clever person," lady Feng observed sarcastically. "And oh so much superior to both Chia Jung and his brother! Handsome as their presence was to look at, I imagined their minds to be full of intelligence, but who would have thought that they would, after all, be a couple of stupid worms, without the least notion of human affection!" The words which Chia Jui heard, fell in so much the more with his own sentiments, that he could not restrain himself from again pressing forward nearer to her; and as with eyes strained to give intentness to his view, he gazed at lady Feng's purse: "What rings have you got on?" he went on to ask. "You should be a little more deferential," remonstrated lady Feng in a low tone of voice, "so as not to let the waiting-maids detect us." Chia Jui withdrew backward with as much alacrity as if he had received an Imperial decree or a mandate from Buddha. "You ought to be going!" lady Feng suggested, as she gave him a smile. "Do let me stay a while longer," entreated Chia Jui, "you are indeed ruthless, my sister-in-law." But with gentle voice did lady Feng again expostulate. "In broad daylight," she said, "with people coming and going, it is not really convenient that you should abide in here; so you had better go, and when it's dark and the watch is set, you can come over, and quietly wait for me in the corridor on the Eastern side!" At these words, Chia Jui felt as if he had received some jewel or precious thing. "Don't make fun of me!" he remarked with vehemence. "The only thing is that crowds of people are ever passing from there, and how will it be possible for me to evade detection?" "Set your mind at ease!" lady Feng advised; "I shall dismiss on leave all the youths on duty at night; and when the doors, on both sides, are closed, there will be no one else to come in!" Chia Jui was delighted beyond measure by the assurance, and with impetuous haste, he took his leave and went off; convinced at heart of the gratification of his wishes. He continued, up to the time of dusk, a prey to keen expectation; and, when indeed darkness fell, he felt his way into the Jung mansion, availing himself of the moment, when the doors were being closed, to slip into the corridor, where everything was actually pitch dark, and not a soul to be seen going backwards or forwards. The door leading over to dowager lady Chia's apartments had already been put under key, and there was but one gate, the one on the East, which had not as yet been locked. Chia Jui lent his ear, and listened for ever so long, but he saw no one appear. Suddenly, however, was heard a sound like "lo teng," and the east gate was also bolted; but though Chia Jui was in a great state of impatience, he none the less did not venture to utter a sound. All that necessity compelled him to do was to issue, with quiet steps, from his corner, and to try the gates by pushing; but they were closed as firmly as if they had been made fast with iron bolts; and much though he may, at this juncture, have wished to find his way out, escape was, in fact, out of the question; on the south and north was one continuous dead wall, which, even had he wished to scale, there was nothing which he could clutch and pull himself up by. This room, besides, was one the interior (of which was exposed) to the wind, which entered through (the fissure) of the door; and was perfectly empty and bare; and the weather being, at this time, that of December, and the night too very long, the northerly wind, with its biting gusts, was sufficient to penetrate the flesh and to cleave the bones, so that the whole night long he had a narrow escape from being frozen to death; and he was yearning, with intolerable anxiety for the break of day, when he espied an old matron go first and open the door on the East side, and then come in and knock at the western gate. Chia Jui seeing that she had turned her face away, bolted out, like a streak of smoke, as he hugged his shoulders with his hands (from intense cold.) As luck would have it, the hour was as yet early, so that the inmates of the house had not all got out of bed; and making his escape from the postern door, he straightaway betook himself home, running back the whole way. Chia Jui's parents had, it must be explained, departed life at an early period, and he had no one else, besides his grandfather Tai-ju, to take charge of his support and education. This Tai-ju had, all along, exercised a very strict control, and would not allow Chia Jui to even make one step too many, in the apprehension that he might gad about out of doors drinking and gambling, to the neglect of his studies. Seeing, on this unexpected occasion, that he had not come home the whole night, he simply felt positive, in his own mind, that he was certain to have run about, if not drinking, at least gambling, and dissipating in houses of the demi-monde up to the small hours; but he never even gave so much as a thought to the possibility of a public scandal, as that in which he was involved. The consequence was that during the whole length of the night he boiled with wrath. Chia Jui himself, on the other hand, was (in such a state of trepidation) that he could wipe the perspiration (off his face) by handfuls; and he felt constrained on his return home, to have recourse to deceitful excuses, simply explaining that he had been at his eldest maternal uncle's house, and that when it got dark, they kept him to spend the night there. "Hitherto," remonstrated Tai-ju, "when about to go out of doors, you never ventured to go, on your own hook, without first telling me about it, and how is it that yesterday you surreptitiously left the house? for this offence alone you deserve a beating, and how much more for the lie imposed upon me." Into such a violent fit of anger did he consequently fly that laying hands on him, he pulled him over and administered to him thirty or forty blows with a cane. Nor would he allow him to have anything to eat, but bade him remain on his knees in the court conning essays; impressing on his mind that he would not let him off, before he had made up for the last ten days' lessons. Chia Jui had in the first instance, frozen the whole night, and, in the next place, came in for a flogging. With a stomach, besides, gnawed by the pangs of hunger, he had to kneel in a place exposed to drafts reading the while literary compositions, so that the hardships he had to endure were of manifold kinds. Chia Jui's infamous intentions had at this junction undergone no change; but far from his thoughts being even then any idea that lady Feng was humbugging him, he seized, after the lapse of a couple of days, the first leisure moments to come again in search of that lady. Lady Feng pretended to bear him a grudge for his breach of faith, and Chia Jui was so distressed that he tried by vows and oaths (to establish his innocence.) Lady Feng perceiving that he had, of his own accord, fallen into the meshes of the net laid for him, could not but devise another plot to give him a lesson and make him know what was right and mend his ways. With this purpose, she gave him another assignation. "Don't go over there," she said, "to-night, but wait for me in the empty rooms giving on to a small passage at the back of these apartments of mine. But whatever you do, mind don't be reckless." "Are you in real earnest?" Chia Jui inquired. "Why, who wants to play with you?" replied lady Feng; "if you don't believe what I say, well then don't come!" "I'll come, I'll come, yea I'll come, were I even to die!" protested Chia Jui. "You should first at this very moment get away!" lady Feng having suggested, Chia Jui, who felt sanguine that when evening came, success would for a certainty crown his visit, took at once his departure in anticipation (of his pleasure.) During this interval lady Feng hastily set to work to dispose of her resources, and to add to her stratagems, and she laid a trap for her victim; while Chia Jui, on the other hand, was until the shades of darkness fell, a prey to incessant expectation. As luck would have it a relative of his happened to likewise come on that very night to their house and to only leave after he had dinner with them, and at an hour of the day when the lamps had already been lit; but he had still to wait until his grandfather had retired to rest before he could, at length with precipitate step, betake himself into the Jung mansion. Straightway he came into the rooms in the narrow passage, and waited with as much trepidation as if he had been an ant in a hot pan. He however waited and waited, but he saw no one arrive; he listened but not even the sound of a voice reached his ear. His heart was full of intense fear, and he could not restrain giving way to surmises and suspicion. "May it not be," he thought, "that she is not coming again; and that I may have once more to freeze for another whole night?" While indulging in these erratic reflections, he discerned some one coming, looking like a black apparition, who Chia Jui readily concluded, in his mind, must be lady Feng; so that, unmindful of distinguishing black from white, he as soon as that person arrived in front of him, speedily clasped her in his embrace, like a ravenous tiger pouncing upon its prey, or a cat clawing a rat, and cried: "My darling sister, you have made me wait till I'm ready to die." As he uttered these words, he dragged the comer, in his arms, on to the couch in the room; and while indulging in kisses and protestations of warm love, he began to cry out at random epithets of endearment. Not a sound, however, came from the lips of the other person; and Chia Jui had in the fulness of his passion, exceeded the bounds of timid love and was in the act of becoming still more affectionate in his protestations, when a sudden flash of a light struck his eye, by the rays of which he espied Chia Se with a candle in hand, casting the light round the place, "Who's in this room?" he exclaimed. "Uncle Jui," he heard some one on the couch explain, laughing, "was trying to take liberties with me!" Chia Jui at one glance became aware that it was no other than Chia Jung; and a sense of shame at once so overpowered him that he could find nowhere to hide himself; nor did he know how best to extricate himself from the dilemma. Turning himself round, he made an attempt to make good his escape, when Chia Se with one grip clutched him in his hold. "Don't run away," he said; "sister-in-law Lien has already reported your conduct to madame Wang; and explained that you had tried to make her carry on an improper flirtation with you; that she had temporised by having recourse to a scheme to escape your importunities, and that she had imposed upon you in such a way as to make you wait for her in this place. Our lady was so terribly incensed, that she well-nigh succumbed; and hence it is that she bade me come and catch you! Be quick now and follow me, and let us go and see her." After Chia Jui had heard these words, his very soul could not be contained within his body. "My dear nephew," he entreated, "do tell her that it wasn't I; and I'll show you my gratitude to-morrow in a substantial manner." "Letting you off," rejoined Chia Se, "is no difficult thing; but how much, I wonder, are you likely to give? Besides, what you now utter with your lips, there will be no proof to establish; so you had better write a promissory note." "How could I put what happened in black and white on paper?" observed Chia Jui. "There's no difficulty about that either!" replied Chia Se; "just write an account of a debt due, for losses in gambling, to some one outside; for payment of which you had to raise funds, by a loan of a stated number of taels, from the head of the house; and that will be all that is required." "This is, in fact, easy enough!" Chia Jui having added by way of answer; Chia Se turned round and left the room; and returning with paper and pencils, which had been got ready beforehand for the purpose, he bade Chia Jui write. The two of them (Chia Jung and Chia Se) tried, the one to do a good turn, and the other to be perverse in his insistence; but (Chia Jui) put down no more than fifty taels, and appended his signature. Chia Se pocketed the note, and endeavoured subsequently to induce Chia Jung to come away; but Chia Jung was, at the outset, obdurate and unwilling to give in, and kept on repeating; "To-morrow, I'll tell the members of our clan to look into your nice conduct!" These words plunged Chia Jui in such a state of dismay, that he even went so far as to knock his head on the ground; but, as Chia Se was trying to get unfair advantage of him though he had at first done him a good turn, he had to write another promissory note for fifty taels, before the matter was dropped. Taking up again the thread of the conversation, Chia Se remarked, "Now when I let you go, I'm quite ready to bear the blame! But the gate at our old lady's over there is already bolted, and Mr. Chia Cheng is just now engaged in the Hall, looking at the things which have arrived from Nanking, so that it would certainly be difficult for you to pass through that way. The only safe course at present is by the back gate; but if you do go by there, and perchance meet any one, even I will be in for a mess; so you might as well wait until I go first and have a peep, when I'll come and fetch you! You couldn't anyhow conceal yourself in this room; for in a short time they'll be coming to stow the things away, and you had better let me find a safe place for you." These words ended, he took hold of Chia Jui, and, extinguishing again the lantern, he brought him out into the court, feeling his way up to the bottom of the steps of the large terrace. "It's safe enough in this nest," he observed, "but just squat down quietly and don't utter a sound; wait until I come back before you venture out." Having concluded this remark, the two of them (Chia Se and Chia Jung) walked away; while Chia Jui was, all this time, out of his senses, and felt constrained to remain squatting at the bottom of the terrace stairs. He was about to consider what course was open for him to adopt, when he heard a noise just over his head; and, with a splash, the contents of a bucket, consisting entirely of filthy water, was emptied straight down over him from above, drenching, as luck would have it, his whole person and head. Chia Jui could not suppress an exclamation. "Ai ya!" he cried, but he hastily stopped his mouth with his hands, and did not venture to give vent to another sound. His whole head and face were a mass of filth, and his body felt icy cold. But as he shivered and shook, he espied Chia Se come running. "Get off," he shouted, "with all speed! off with you at once!" As soon as Chia Jui returned to life again, he bolted with hasty strides, out of the back gate, and ran the whole way home. The night had already reached the third watch, so that he had to knock at the door for it to be opened. "What's the matter?" inquired the servants, when they saw him in this sorry plight; (an inquiry) which placed him in the necessity of making some false excuse. "The night was dark," he explained, "and my foot slipped and I fell into a gutter." Saying this, he betook himself speedily to his own apartment; and it was only after he had changed his clothes and performed his ablutions, that he began to realise that lady Feng had made a fool of him. He consequently gave way to a fit of wrath; but upon recalling to mind the charms of lady Feng's face, he felt again extremely aggrieved that he could not there and then clasp her in his embrace, and as he indulged in these wild thoughts and fanciful ideas, he could not the whole night long close his eyes. From this time forward his mind was, it is true, still with lady Feng, but he did not have the courage to put his foot into the Jung mansion; and with Chia Jung and Chia Se both coming time and again to dun him for the money, he was likewise full of fears lest his grandfather should come to know everything. His passion for lady Feng was, in fact, already a burden hard to bear, and when, moreover, the troubles of debts were superadded to his tasks, which were also during the whole day arduous, he, a young man of about twenty, as yet unmarried, and a prey to constant cravings for lady Feng, which were difficult to gratify, could not avoid giving way, to a great extent, to such evil habits as exhausted his energies. His lot had, what is more, been on two occasions to be frozen, angered and to endure much hardship, so that with the attacks received time and again from all sides, he unconsciously soon contracted an organic disease. In his heart inflammation set in; his mouth lost the sense of taste; his feet got as soft as cotton from weakness; his eyes stung, as if there were vinegar in them. At night, he burnt with fever. During the day, he was repeatedly under the effects of lassitude. Perspiration was profuse, while with his expectorations of phlegm, he brought up blood. The whole number of these several ailments came upon him, before the expiry of a year, (with the result that) in course of time, he had not the strength to bear himself up. Of a sudden, he would fall down, and with his eyes, albeit closed, his spirit would be still plunged in confused dreams, while his mouth would be full of nonsense and he would be subject to strange starts. Every kind of doctor was asked to come in, and every treatment had recourse to; and, though of such medicines as cinnamon, aconitum seeds, turtle shell, ophiopogon, Yü-chü herb, and the like, he took several tens of catties, he nevertheless experienced no change for the better; so that by the time the twelfth moon drew once again to an end, and spring returned, this illness had become still more serious. Tai-ju was very much concerned, and invited doctors from all parts to attend to him, but none of them could do him any good. And as later on, he had to take nothing else but decoctions of pure ginseng, Tai-ju could not of course afford it. Having no other help but to come over to the Jung mansion, and make requisition for some, Madame Wang asked lady Feng to weigh two taels of it and give it to him. "The other day," rejoined lady Feng, "not long ago, when we concocted some medicine for our dowager lady, you told us, madame, to keep the pieces that were whole, to present to the spouse of General Yang to make physic with, and as it happens it was only yesterday that I sent some one round with them." "If there's none over here in our place," suggested madame Wang, "just send a servant to your mother-in-law's, on the other side, to inquire whether they have any. Or it may possibly be that your elder brother-in-law Chen, over there, might have a little. If so, put all you get together, and give it to them; and when he shall have taken it, and got well and you shall have saved the life of a human being, it will really be to the benefit of you all." Lady Feng acquiesced; but without directing a single person to institute any search, she simply took some refuse twigs, and making up a few mace, she despatched them with the meagre message that they had been sent by madame Wang, and that there was, in fact, no more; subsequently reporting to madame Wang that she had asked for and obtained all there was and that she had collected as much as two taels, and forwarded it to them. Chia Jui was, meanwhile, very anxious to recover his health, so that there was no medicine that he would not take, but the outlay of money was of no avail, for he derived no benefit. On a certain day and at an unexpected moment, a lame Taoist priest came to beg for alms, and he averred that he had the special gift of healing diseases arising from grievances received, and as Chia Jui happened, from inside, to hear what he said, he forthwith shouted out: "Go at once, and bid that divine come in and save my life!" while he reverentially knocked his head on the pillow. The whole bevy of servants felt constrained to usher the Taoist in; and Chia Jui, taking hold of him with a dash, "My Buddha!" he repeatedly cried out, "save my life!" The Taoist heaved a sigh. "This ailment of yours," he remarked, "is not one that could be healed with any medicine; I have a precious thing here which I'll give you, and if you gaze at it every day, your life can be saved!" When he had done talking, he produced from his pouch a looking-glass which could reflect a person's face on the front and back as well. On the upper part of the back were engraved the four characters: "Precious Mirror of Voluptuousness." Handing it over to Chia Jui: "This object," he proceeded, "emanates from the primordial confines of the Great Void and has been wrought by the Monitory Dream Fairy in the Palace of Unreality and Spirituality, with the sole intent of healing the illnesses which originate from evil thoughts and improper designs. Possessing, as it does, the virtue of relieving mankind and preserving life, I have consequently brought it along with me into the world, but I only give it to those intelligent preëminent and refined princely men to set their eyes on. On no account must you look at the front side; and you should only gaze at the back of it; this is urgent, this is expedient! After three days, I shall come and fetch it away; by which time, I'm sure, it will have made him all right." These words finished, he walked away with leisurely step, and though all tried to detain him, they could not succeed. Chia Jui received the mirror. "This Taoist," he thought, "would seem to speak sensibly, and why should I not look at it and try its effect?" At the conclusion of these thoughts, he took up the Mirror of Voluptuousness, and cast his eyes on the obverse side; but upon perceiving nought else than a skeleton standing in it, Chia Jui sustained such a fright that he lost no time in covering it with his hands and in abusing the Taoist. "You good-for-nothing!" he exclaimed, "why should you frighten me so? but I'll go further and look at the front and see what it's like." While he reflected in this manner, he readily looked into the face of the mirror, wherein he caught sight of lady Feng standing, nodding her head and beckoning to him. With one gush of joy, Chia Jui felt himself, in a vague and mysterious manner, transported into the mirror, where he held an affectionate tête-à-tête with lady Feng. Lady Feng escorted him out again. On his return to bed, he gave vent to an exclamation of "Ai yah!" and opening his eyes, he turned the glass over once more; but still, as hitherto, stood the skeleton in the back part. Chia Jui had, it is true, experienced all the pleasant sensations of a tête-à-tête, but his heart nevertheless did not feel gratified; so that he again turned the front round, and gazed at lady Feng, as she still waved her hand and beckoned to him to go. Once more entering the mirror, he went on in the same way for three or four times, until this occasion, when just as he was about to issue from the mirror, he espied two persons come up to him, who made him fast with chains round the neck, and hauled him away. Chia Jui shouted. "Let me take the mirror and I'll come along." But only this remark could he utter, for it was forthwith beyond his power to say one word more. The servants, who stood by in attendance, saw him at first still holding the glass in his hand and looking in, and then, when it fell from his grasp, open his eyes again to pick it up, but when at length the mirror dropped, and he at once ceased to move, they in a body came forward to ascertain what had happened to him. He had already breathed his last. The lower part of his body was icy-cold; his clothes moist from profuse perspiration. With all promptitude they changed him there and then, and carried him to another bed. Tai-ju and his wife wept bitterly for him, to the utter disregard of their own lives, while in violent terms they abused the Taoist priest. "What kind of magical mirror is it?" they asked. "If we don't destroy this glass, it will do harm to not a few men in the world!" Having forthwith given directions to bring fire and burn it, a voice was heard in the air to say, "Who told you to look into the face of it? You yourselves have mistaken what is false for what is true, and why burn this glass of mine?" Suddenly the mirror was seen to fly away into the air; and when Tai-ju went out of doors to see, he found no one else than the limping Taoist, shouting, "Who is he who wishes to destroy the Mirror of Voluptuousness?" While uttering these words, he snatched the glass, and, as all eyes were fixed upon him, he moved away lissomely, as if swayed by the wind. Tai-ju at once made preparations for the funeral and went everywhere to give notice that on the third day the obsequies would commence, that on the seventh the procession would start to escort the coffin to the Iron Fence Temple, and that on the subsequent day, it would be taken to his original home. Not much time elapsed before all the members of the Chia family came, in a body, to express their condolences. Chia She, of the Jung Mansion, presented twenty taels, and Chia Cheng also gave twenty taels. Of the Ning Mansion, Chia Chen likewise contributed twenty taels. The remainder of the members of the clan, of whom some were poor and some rich, and not equally well off, gave either one or two taels, or three or four, some more, some less. Among strangers, there were also contributions, respectively presented by the families of his fellow-scholars, amounting, likewise, collectively to twenty or thirty taels. The private means of Tai-ju were, it is true, precarious, but with the monetary assistance he obtained, he anyhow performed the funeral rites with all splendour and éclat. But who would have thought it, at the close of winter of this year, Lin Ju-hai contracted a serious illness, and forwarded a letter, by some one, with the express purpose of fetching Lin Tai-yü back. These tidings, when they reached dowager lady Chia, naturally added to the grief and distress (she already suffered), but she felt compelled to make speedy preparations for Tai-yü's departure. Pao-yü too was intensely cut up, but he had no alternative but to defer to the affection of father and daughter; nor could he very well place any hindrance in the way. Old lady Chia, in due course, made up her mind that she would like Chia Lien to accompany her, and she also asked him to bring her back again along with him. But no minute particulars need be given of the manifold local presents and of the preparations, which were, of course, everything that could be wished for in excellence and perfectness. Forthwith the day for starting was selected, and Chia Lien, along with Lin Tai-yü, said good-bye to all the members of the family, and, followed by their attendants, they went on board their boats, and set out on their journey for Yang Chou. But, Reader, should you have any wish to know fuller details, listen to the account given in the subsequent Chapter. CHAPTER XIII. Ch'in K'o-ch'ing dies, and Chia Jung is invested with the rank of military officer to the Imperial Body-guard. Wang Hsi-feng lends her help in the management of the Jung Kuo Mansion. Lady Feng, it must be added, in prosecuting our narrative, was ever since Chia Lien's departure to accompany Tai-yü to Yang Chou, really very dejected at heart; and every day, when evening came, she would, after simply indulging in a chat and a laugh with P'ing Erh, turn in, in a heedless frame of mind, for the night. In the course of the night of this day, she had been sitting with P'ing Erh by lamp-light clasping the hand-stove; and weary of doing her work of embroidery, she had at an early hour, given orders to warm the embroidered quilt, and both had gone to bed; and as she was bending her fingers, counting the progress of the journey, and when they should be arriving, unexpectedly, the third watch struck. P'ing Erh had already fallen fast asleep; and lady Feng was feeling at length her sleepy eyes slightly dose, when she faintly discerned Mrs. Ch'in walk in from outside. "My dear sister-in-law," she said as she smiled, "sleep in peace; I'm on my way back to-day, and won't even you accompany me just one stage? But as you and I have been great friends all along, I cannot part from you, sister-in-law, and have therefore come to take my leave of you. There is, besides, a wish of mine, which isn't yet accomplished; and if I don't impart it to you, it isn't likely that telling any one else will be of any use." Lady Feng could not make out the sense of the words she heard. "What wish is it you have?" she inquired, "do tell me, and it will be safe enough with me." "You are, my dear sister-in-law, a heroine among women," observed Mrs. Ch'in, "so much so that those famous men, with sashes and official hats, cannot excel you; how is it that you're not aware of even a couple of lines of common adages, of that trite saying, 'when the moon is full, it begins to wane; when the waters are high, they must overflow?' and of that other which says that 'if you ascend high, heavy must be your fall.' Our family has now enjoyed splendour and prosperity for already well-nigh a century, but a day comes when at the height of good fortune, calamity arises; and if the proverb that 'when the tree falls, the monkeys scatter,' be fulfilled, will not futile have been the reputation of culture and old standing of a whole generation?" Lady Feng at these words felt her heart heavy, and overpowered by intense awe and veneration. "The fears you express are well founded," she urgently remarked, "but what plan is there adequate to preserve it from future injury?" "My dear sister-in-law," rejoined Mrs. Ch'in with a sardonic smile, "you're very simple indeed! When woe has reached its climax, weal supervenes. Prosperity and adversity, from days of yore up to the present time, now pass away, and now again revive, and how can (prosperity) be perpetuated by any human exertion? But if now, we could in the time of good fortune, make provision against any worldly concerns, which might arise at any season of future adversity, we might in fact prolong and preserve it. Everything, for instance, is at present well-regulated; but there are two matters which are not on a sure footing, and if such and such suitable action could be adopted with regard to these concerns, it will, in subsequent days, be found easy to perpetuate the family welfare in its entity." "What matters are these?" inquired lady Feng. "Though at the graves of our ancestors," explained Mrs. Ch'in, "sacrifices and oblations be offered at the four seasons, there's nevertheless no fixed source of income. In the second place, the family school is, it is true, in existence; but it has no definite grants-in-aid. According to my views, now that the times are prosperous, there's, as a matter of course, no lack of offerings and contributions; but by and bye, when reverses set in, whence will these two outlays be met from? Would it not be as well, and my ideas are positive on this score, to avail ourselves of the present time, when riches and honours still reign, to establish in the immediate vicinity of our ancestral tombs, a large number of farms, cottages, and estates, in order to enable the expenditure for offerings and grants to entirely emanate from this source? And if the household school were also established on this principle, the old and young in the whole clan can, after they have, by common consent, determined upon rules, exercise in days to come control, in the order of the branches, over the affairs connected with the landed property, revenue, ancestral worship and school maintenance for the year (of their respective term.) Under this rotatory system, there will likewise be no animosities; neither will there be any mortgages, or sales, or any of these numerous malpractices; and should any one happen to incur blame, his personal effects can be confiscated by Government. But the properties, from which will be derived the funds for ancestral worship, even the officials should not be able to appropriate, so that when reverses do supervene, the sons and grandsons of the family may be able to return to their homes, and prosecute their studies, or go in for farming. Thus, while they will have something to fall back upon, the ancestral worship will, in like manner, be continued in perpetuity. But, if the present affluence and splendour be looked upon as bound to go on without intermission, and with no thought for the day to come, no enduring plan be after all devised, presently, in a little while, there will, once again, transpire a felicitous occurrence of exceptional kind, which, in point of fact, will resemble the splendour of oil scorched on a violent fire, or fresh flowers decorated with brocades. You should bear in mind that it will also be nothing more real than a transient pageant, nothing but a short-lived pleasure! Whatever you do, don't forget the proverb, that 'there's no banquet, however sumptuous, from which the guests do not disperse;' and unless you do, at an early date, take precautions against later evils, regret will, I apprehend, be of no avail." "What felicitous occurrence will take place?" lady Feng inquired with alacrity. "The decrees of Heaven cannot be divulged; but as I have been very friendly with you, sister-in-law, for so long, I will present you, before I take my leave, with two lines, which it behoves you to keep in mind," rejoined Mrs. Ch'in, as she consequently proceeded to recite what follows: The three springs, when over, all radiance will wane; The inmates to seek each a home will be fain. Lady Feng was bent upon making further inquiries, when she heard a messenger at the second gate strike the "cloudy board" four consecutive blows. It was indeed the announcement of a death; and it woke up lady Feng with a start. A servant reported that lady Jung of the eastern mansion was no more. Lady Feng was so taken aback that a cold perspiration broke out all over her person, and she fell for a while into vacant abstraction. But she had to change her costume, with all possible haste, and to come over to madame Wang's apartments. By this time, all the members of the family were aware of the tidings, and there was not one of them who did not feel disconsolate; one and all of them were much wounded at heart. The elder generation bethought themselves of the dutiful submission which she had all along displayed; those of the same age as herself reflected upon the friendship and intimacy which had ever existed with her; those younger than her remembered her past benevolence. Even the servants of the household, whether old or young, looked back upon her qualities of sympathy with the poor, pity of the destitute, affection for the old, and consideration for the young; and not one of them all was there who did not mourn her loss, and give way to intense grief. But these irrelevant details need not be dilated upon; suffice it to confine ourselves to Pao-yü. Consequent upon Lin Tai-yü's return home, he was left to his own self and felt very lonely. Neither would he go and disport himself with others; but with the daily return of dusk, he was wont to retire quietly to sleep. On this day, while he was yet under the influence of a dream, he heard the announcement of Mrs. Ch'in's death, and turning himself round quickly he crept out of bed, when he felt as if his heart had been stabbed with a sword. With a sudden retch, he straightway expectorated a mouthful of blood, which so frightened Hsi Jen and the rest that they rushed forward and supported him. "What is the matter?" they inquired, and they meant also to go and let dowager lady Chia know, so as to send for a doctor, but Pao-yü dissuaded them. "There's no need of any flurry; it's nothing at all," he said, "it's simply that the fire of grief has attacked the heart, and that the blood did not circulate through the arteries." As he spoke, he speedily raised himself up, and, after asking for his clothes and changing, he came over to see dowager lady Chia. His wish was to go at once to the other side; and Hsi Jen, though feeling uneasy at heart, seeing the state of mind he was in, did not again hinder him, as she felt constrained to let him please himself. When old lady Chia saw that he was bent upon going: "The breath is just gone out of the body," she consequently remonstrated, "and that side is still sullied. In the second place it's now dark, and the wind is high; so you had better wait until to-morrow morning, when you will be in ample time." Pao-yü would not agree to this, and dowager lady Chia gave orders to get the carriage ready, and to depute a few more attendants and followers to go with him. Under this escort he went forward and straightway arrived in front of the Ning mansion, where they saw the main entrance wide open, the lamps on the two sides giving out a light as bright as day, and people coming and going in confused and large numbers; while the sound of weeping inside was sufficient to shake the mountains and to move the hills. Pao-yü dismounted from the carriage; and with hurried step, walked into the apartment, where the coffin was laid. He gave vent to bitter tears for a few minutes, and subsequently paid his salutations to Mrs. Yu. Mrs. Yu, as it happened, had just had a relapse of her old complaint of pains in the stomach and was lying on her bed. He eventually came out again from her chamber to salute Chia Chen, just at the very moment that Chia Tai-ju, Chia Tai-hsiu, Chia Ch'ih, Chiao Hsiao, Chia Tun, Chia She, Chia Cheng, Chia Tsung, Chia Pin, Chia Hsing, Chia Kuang, Chia Shen, Chia Ch'iung, Chia Lin, Chia Se, Chia Ch'ang, Chia Ling, Chia Yün, Chia Ch'in, Chia Chen, Chia P'ing, Chia Tsao, Chia Heng, Chia Fen, Chia Fang, Chia Lan, Chia Chun, Chia Chih and the other relatives of the families had likewise arrived in a body. Chia Chen wept so bitterly that he was like a man of tears. "Of the whole family, whether young or old, distant relatives or close friends," he was just explaining to Chia Tai-ju and the rest, "who did not know that this girl was a hundred times better than even our son? but now that her spirit has retired, it's evident that this elder branch of the family will be cut off and that there will be no survivor." While he gave vent to these words, he again burst into tears, and the whole company of relatives set to work at once to pacify him. "She has already departed this life," they argued, "and tears are also of no avail, besides the pressing thing now is to consult as to what kind of arrangements are to be made." Chia Chen clapped his hands. "What arrangements are to be made!" he exclaimed; "nothing is to be done, but what is within my means." As they conversed, they perceived Ch'in Yeh and Ch'in Chung, as well as several relations of Mrs. Yu, arrive, together with Mrs. Yu's sisters; and Chia Chen forthwith bade Chia Ch'ung, Chia Shen, Chia Lin and Chia Se, the four of them, to go and entertain the guests; while he, at the same time, issued directions to go and ask the Astrologer of the Imperial Observatory to come and choose the days for the ceremonies. (This Astrologer) decided that the coffin should remain in the house for seven times seven days, that is forty-nine days; that after the third day, the mourning rites should be begun and the formal cards should be distributed; that all that was to be done during these forty-nine days was to invite one hundred and eight Buddhist bonzes to perform, in the main Hall, the High Confession Mass, in order to ford the souls of departed relatives across the abyss of suffering, and afterwards to transmute the spirit (of Mrs. Ch'in); that, in addition, an altar should be erected in the Tower of Heavenly Fragrance, where nine times nine virtuous Taoist priests should, for nineteen days, offer up prayers for absolution from punishment, and purification from retribution. That after these services, the tablet should be moved into the Garden of Concentrated Fragrance, and that in the presence of the tablet, fifteen additional eminent bonzes and fifteen renowned Taoist Priests should confront the altar and perform meritorious deeds every seven days. The news of the death of the wife of his eldest grandson reached Chia Ching; but as he himself felt sure that, at no distant date, he would ascend to the regions above, he was loth to return again to his home, and so expose himself to the contamination of the world, as to completely waste the meritorious excellence acquired in past days. For this reason, he paid no heed to the event, but allowed Chia Chen a free hand to accomplish the necessary preparations. Chia Chen, to whom we again revert, was fond of display and extravagance, so that he found, on inspection of coffins, those few made of pine-wood unsuitable to his taste; when, strange coincidence, Hsüeh P'an came to pay his visit of condolence, and perceiving that Chia Chen was in quest of a good coffin: "In our establishment," he readily suggested, "we have a lot of timber of some kind or other called Ch'iang wood, which comes from the T'ieh Wang Mount, in Huang Hai; and which made into coffins will not rot, not for ten thousand years. This lot was, in fact, brought down, some years back, by my late father; and had at one time been required by His Highness I Chung, a Prince of the royal blood; but as he became guilty of some mismanagement, it was, in consequence, not used, and is still lying stored up in our establishment; and another thing besides is that there's no one with the means to purchase it. But if you do want it, you should come and have a look at it." Chia Chen, upon hearing this, was extremely delighted, and gave orders that the planks should be there and then brought over. When the whole family came to inspect them, they found those for the sides and the bottom to be all eight inches thick, the grain like betel-nut, the smell like sandal-wood or musk, while, when tapped with the hand, the sound emitted was like that of precious stones; so that one and all agreed in praising the timber for its remarkable quality. "What is their price?" Chia Chen inquired with a smile. "Even with one thousand taels in hand," explained Hsüeh P'an laughingly, "I feel sure you wouldn't find any place, where you could buy the like. Why ask about price? if you just give the workmen a few taels for their labour, it will be quite sufficient." Chia Chen, at these words, lost no time in giving expression to profuse assurances of gratitude, and was forthwith issuing directions that the timber should be split, sawn and made up, when Chia Cheng proffered his advice. "Such articles shouldn't," he said, "be, in my idea, enjoyed by persons of the common run; it would be quite ample if the body were placed in a coffin made of pine of the best quality." But Chia Chen would not listen to any suggestion. Suddenly he further heard that Mrs. Ch'in's waiting-maid, Jui Chu by name, had, after she had become alive to the fact that her mistress had died, knocked her head against a post, and likewise succumbed to the blows. This unusual occurrence the whole clan extolled in high terms; and Chia Chen promptly directed that, with regard to ceremonies, she should be treated as a granddaughter, and that the body should, after it had been placed in the coffin, be also deposited in the Hall of Attained Immortality, in the Garden of Concentrated Fragrance. There was likewise a young waiting-maid, called Pao Chu, who, as Mrs. Ch'in left no issue, was willing to become an adopted child, and begged to be allowed to undertake the charge of dashing the mourning bowl, and accompanying the coffin; which pleased Chia Chen so much that he speedily transmitted orders that from that time forth Pao Chu should be addressed by all as 'young miss.' Pao Chu, after the rites of an unmarried daughter, mourned before the coffin to such an unwonted degree, as if bent upon snapping her own life; while the members of the entire clan, as well as the inmates of the Mansions, each and all, readily observed, in their conduct, the established mourning usages, without of course any transgression or confusion. "Chia Jung," pondered Chia Chen, "has no higher status than that of graduate by purchase, and were this designation written on the funeral streamer, it will not be imposing, and, in point of fact, the retinue will likewise be small." He therefore was exceedingly unhappy, in his own mind, when, as luck would have it, on this day, which was the fourth day of the first seven, Tai Ch'üan, a eunuch of the Palace of High Renown, whose office was that of Palace Overseer, first prepared sacrificial presents, which he sent round by messengers, and next came himself in an official chair, preceded by criers beating the gong, to offer sacrificial oblations. Chia Chen promptly received him, and pressed him into a seat; and when they adjourned into the Hall of the Loitering Bees, tea was presented. Chia Chen had already arrived at a fixed purpose, so that he seized an opportunity to tell him of his wish to purchase an office for Chia Jung's advancement. Tai Ch'üan understood the purport of his remark. "It is, I presume," he added smilingly, "that the funeral rites should be a little more sumptuous." "My worthy sir," eagerly rejoined Chia Chen, "your surmise on that score is perfectly correct." "The question," explained Tai Ch'üan, "comes up at an opportune moment; for there is just at present a good vacancy. Of the three hundred officers who at present constitute the Imperial Body Guard, there are two wanting. Yesterday marquis Hsiang Yang's third brother came to appeal to me with one thousand five hundred taels of ready money, which he brought over to my house. You know the friendship of old standing which exists between him and me, so that, placing other considerations aside, I without a second thought, assented for his father's sake. But there still remains another vacancy, which, who would have thought it, fat general Feng, of Yung Hsing, asked to purchase for his son; but I have had no time to give him an answer. Besides, as our child wants to purchase it, you had better at once write a statement of his antecedents." Chia Chen lost no time in bidding some one write the statement on red paper, which Tai Ch'üan found, on perusal, to record that Chia Jung was a graduate, by purchase, of the District of Chiang Ning, of the Ying T'ien Prefecture, in Chiang Nan; that Chia Tai-hua, his great grandfather, had been Commander-in-Chief of the Metropolitan Camp, and an hereditary general of the first class, with the prefix of Spiritual Majesty; that his grandfather Chia Ching was a metropolitan graduate of the tripos in the Ping Ch'en year; and that his father Chia Chen had inherited a rank of nobility of the third degree, and was a general, with the prefix of Majestic Intrepidity. Tai Ch'üan, after perusal, turned his hand behind him and passed (the statement) to a constant attendant of his, to put away: "Go back," he enjoined him, "and give it to His Excellency Mr. Chao, at the head of the Board of Revenue, and tell him, that I present him my compliments, and would like him to draw up a warrant for subaltern of the Imperial Body Guard of the fifth grade, and to also issue a commission; that he should take the particulars from this statement and fill them up; and that to-morrow I'll come and have the money weighed and sent over." The young attendant signified his obedience, and Tai Ch'üan thereupon took his leave. Chia Chen did all he could to detain him, but with no success; so that he had no alternative but to escort him as far as the entrance of the Mansion. As he was about to mount into his chair, Chia Chen inquired, "As regards the money, shall I go and pay it into the Board, or am I to send it to the Board of Eunuchs?" "If you were to go and pay it at the Board," observed Tai Ch'üan; "you are sure to suffer loss; so that it would be better if you just weighed exactly one thousand taels and sent them over to my place; for then an end will be put to all trouble." Chia Chen was incessant in his expression of gratitude. "When the period of mourning has expired," he consequently added, "I shall lead in person, my despicable eldest son to your mansion, to pay our obeisance, and express our thanks." They then parted company, but close upon this, were heard again the voices of runners. It was, in fact, the spouse of Shih Ting, the marquis of Chung Ching, who was just arriving. Shih Hsiang-yun, mesdames Wang, and Hsing, lady Feng and the rest came out at once, to greet her, and lead her into the Main Building; when they further saw the sacrificial presents of the three families, of the marquis of Chin Hsiang, the marquis of Ch'uan Ning, and the earl of Shou Shan, likewise spread out in front of the tablet. In a short while, these three noblemen descended from their chairs, and Chia Chen received them in the Large Hall. In like manner all the relatives and friends arrived in such quick succession, one coming, another going, that it is impossible to remember even so much as their number. One thing need be said that during these forty-nine days the street on which the Ning Kuo mansion stood, was covered with a sheet of white, formed by the people, coming and going; and thronged with clusters of flowers, as the officials came and went. At the instance of Chia Chen, Chia Jung, the next day donned his gala dress and went over for his papers; and on his return the articles in use in front of the coffin, as well as those belonging to the cortege and other such things, were all regulated by the rules prescribed for an official status of the fifth degree; while, on the tablet and notice alike the inscription consisted of: Spirit of lady Ch'in, (by marriage) of the Chia mansion, and by patent a lady of the fifth rank (of the titles of honour). The main entrance of the Garden of Concentrated Fragrance, adjoining the street, was opened wide; and on both sides were raised sheds for the musicians, and two companies of players, dressed in blue, discoursed music at the proper times; while one pair after another of the paraphernalia was drawn out so straight as if cut by a knife or slit by an axe. There were also two large carmine boards, carved with gilt inscriptions, erected outside the gate; the designations in bold characters on the upper sides being: Guard of the Imperial Antechamber, charged with the protection of the Inner Palace and Roads, in the Red Prohibited City. On the opposite side, facing each other, rose, high above the ground, two altars for the services of the Buddhist and Taoist priests, while a placard bore the inscription in bold type: Funeral Obsequies of lady Ch'in, (by marriage) of the Chia mansion, by patent a lady of the fifth rank, consort of the eldest grandson of the hereditary duke of Ning Kuo, and guard of the Imperial Antechamber, charged with the protection of the Inner Palace and Roads in the Red Prohibited City. We, Wan Hsü, by Heaven's commands charged with the perennial preservation of perfect peace in the Kingdom of the Four Continents, as well as of the lands contained therein, Head Controller of the School of Void and Asceticism, and Superior in Chief (of the Buddhist hierarchy); and Yeh Sheng, Principal Controller, since the creation, of the Disciples of Perfect Excellence and Superior in Chief (of the Taoist priesthood), and others, having in a reverent spirit purified ourselves by abstinence, now raise our eyes up to Heaven, prostrate ourselves humbly before Buddha, and devoutly pray all the Chia Lans, Chieh Tis, Kung Ts'aos and other divinities to extend their sacred bounties, and from afar to display their spiritual majesty, during the forty-nine days (of the funeral rites), for the deliverance from judgment and the absolution from retribution (of the spirit of lady Ch'in), so that it may enjoy a peaceful and safe passage, whether by sea or by land; and other such prayers to this effect, which are in fact not worth the trouble of putting on record. Chia Chen had, it is true, all his wishes gratified; but, as his wife was laid up in the inner chambers, with a relapse of her old complaint, and was not in a fit state to undertake the direction of the ceremonies, he was very much distressed lest, when the high officials (and their wives) came and went, there should occur any breach of the prescribed conventionalities, which he was afraid would evoke ridicule. Hence it was that he felt in low spirits; but while he was plunged in solicitude Pao-yü, who happened to be close by, readily inquired, "Everything may be safely looked upon as being satisfactorily settled, and why need you, elder brother, still be so full of concern?" Chia Chen forthwith explained to him how it was that in the ladies' apartments there was no one (to do the honours), but Pao-yü at these words smiled: "What difficulty is there about it?" he remarked; "I'll recommend some one to take temporary charge of the direction of things for you during the month, and I can guarantee that everything will be properly carried out." "Who is it?" Chia Chen was quick to ask; but as Pao-yü perceived that there were still too many relatives and friends seated around, he did not feel as if he could very well speak out; so that he went up to Chia Chen and whispered a couple of remarks in his ear. Chia Chen's joy knew no bounds when he heard this suggestion. "Everything will indeed be properly carried out," he added laughingly; "but I must now be going at once." With these words, he drew Pao-yü along, and taking leave of the whole number of visitors, they forthwith came into the drawing rooms. This day was luckily not a grand occasion, so that few relatives and friends had come. In the inner apartments there were only a small number of ladies of close kinship. Mesdames Hsing and Wang, and lady Feng, and the women of the whole household, were entertaining the guests, when they heard a servant announce that Mr. Chia Chen had come. (This announcement) took the whole body of ladies and young ladies so much by surprise, that, with a rushing sound, they tried to hide in the back rooms; but they were not quick enough (to effect their escape). Lady Feng alone composedly stood up. Chia Chen was himself at this time rather unwell, and being also very much cut up, he entered the room shuffling along, propping himself up with a staff. "You are not well?" therefore remarked madame Hsing and the others, "and you've had besides so much to attend to during these consecutive days, that what you require is rest to get all right; and why do you again come over?" Chia Chen was, as he leant on his staff, straining every nerve to bend his body so as to fall on his knees and pay his respects to them, and express his sense of obligation for the trouble they had taken, when madame Hsing and the other ladies hastily called Pao-yü to raise him up, bidding a servant move a chair for him to sit on. Chia Chen would not take a seat; but making an effort to return a smile, "Your nephew," he urged, "has come over, as there's a favour that I want to ask of my two aunts as well as of my eldest cousin." "What is it?" promptly inquired madame Hsing and the rest. "My aunts," Chia Chen replied with all haste, "you surely are aware that your grandson's wife is now no more; your nephew's wife is also laid up unwell, and, as I see that things in the inner apartments are really not what they should properly be, I would trouble my worthy eldest cousin to undertake in here the direction of affairs for a month; and if she does, my mind will be set at ease." Madame Hsing smiled. "Is it really about this that you've come?" she asked; "your eldest cousin is at present staying with your aunt Secunda, and all you have to do is to speak to her and it will be all right." "How ever could a mere child like her," speedily remonstrated madame Wang, "carry out all these matters? and shouldn't she manage things properly, she will, on the contrary, make people laugh, so it would therefore be better that you should trouble some one else." "What your ideas are, aunt," rejoined Chia Chen smiling, "your nephew has guessed; you're afraid lest my eldest cousin should have to bear fatigue and annoyance; for as to what you say, that she cannot manage things, why my eldest cousin has, from her youth up, ever been in her romping and playing so firm and decided; and now that she has entered the married estate, and has the run of affairs in that mansion, she must have reaped so much the more experience, and have become quite an old hand! I've been thinking these last few days that outside my eldest cousin, there's no one else who could come to my help; and, aunt, if you don't do it for the face of your nephew and your nephew's wife, do it, at least, for the affection you bore to her who is no more." While he uttered these words tears trickled down his face. The fears that madame Wang inwardly entertained were that lady Feng had no experience in funeral matters, and she apprehended, that if she was not equal to managing them, she would incur the ridicule of others; but when she now heard Chia Chen make the appeal in such a disconsolate mood, she relented considerably in her resolution. But as she turned her eyes towards lady Feng (to ascertain her wishes), she saw that she was plunged in abstraction. Lady Feng had all along found the greatest zest in taking the initiative in everything, with the idea of making a display of her abilities, so that when she perceived how earnest Chia Chen was in his entreaties, she had, at an early period, made up her mind to give a favourable reply. Seeing besides madame Wang show signs of relenting, she readily turned round and said to her, "My elder cousin has made his appeal in such a solicitous way that your ladyship should give your consent and have done with it." "Do you think you are equal to the task?" inquired madame Wang in a whisper. "What's there that I couldn't be equal to?" replied lady Feng; "for urgent matters outside, my cousin may be said to have already made full provision; and all there is to be done is to keep an eye over things inside. But should there occur anything that I don't know, I can ask you, madame, and it will be right." Madame Wang perceiving the reasonableness of what she heard her say, uttered not a word, and when Chia Chen saw that lady Feng had assented; "How much you do attend to I don't mind," he observed, forcing another smile, "but I must, in any case, entreat you, cousin, to assume the onerous charge. As a first step I'll pay my obeisance to you in here, and when everything has been finished, I shall then come over into that mansion to express my thanks." With these words still on his lips, he made a low bow, but lady Feng had scarcely had time to return the compliment, before Chia Chen had directed a servant to fetch the warrant of the Ning mansion, which he bade Pao-yü hand over to lady Feng. "Cousin," he added, "take whatever steps you think best; and if you want anything, all you have to do is to simply send for it with this, and there will even be no use to consult me. The only thing I must ask you is, not to be too careful in order to save me expense, for the main consideration is that things should be handsomely done. In the second place, it will be well if you were also to treat servants here in the same way as in the other mansion, and not be too scrupulous in the fear that any one might take offence. Outside these two concerns, there's nothing else to disturb my mind." Lady Feng did not venture to take over the warrant at once, but merely turned round to ascertain what were madame Wang's wishes. "In view of the reason brother Chen advances," madame Wang rejoined, "you had better assume the charge at once and finish with it; don't, however, act on your own ideas; but when there's aught to be done, be careful and send some one to consult your cousin's wife, ever so little though it be on the subject." Pao-yü had already taken over the warrant from Chia Chen's grasp, and forcibly handed it to lady Feng, "Will you, cousin," he went on to question, "take up your quarters here or will you come every day? should you cross over, day after day, it will be ever so much more fatiguing for you, so that I shall speedily have a separate court got ready for you in here, where you, cousin, can put up for these several days and be more comfortable." "There's no need," replied lady Feng smiling; "for on that side they can't do without me; and it will be better if I were to come daily." "Do as you like," Chia Chen observed; and after subsequently passing a few more irrelevant remarks, he at length left the room. After a time, the lady relatives dispersed, and madame Wang seized the opportunity to inquire of lady Feng, "What do you purpose doing to-day?" "You had better, please madame, go back," urged lady Feng, "for I must first of all find out some clue before I can go home." Madame Wang, upon hearing these words, returned to her quarters, in advance, in company with madame Hsing, where we will leave them. Lady Feng meanwhile came into a colonnade, which enclosed a suite of three apartments, and taking a seat, she gave way to reflection. "The first consideration," she communed within herself, "is that the household is made up of mixed elements, and things might be lost; the second is that the preparations are under no particular control, with the result that, when the time comes, the servants might shirk their duties; the third is that the necessary expenditure being great, there will be reckless disbursements and counterfeit receipts; the fourth, that with the absence of any distinction in the matter of duties, whether large or small, hardship and ease will be unequally shared; and the fifth, that the servants being arrogant, through leniency, those with any self-respect will not brook control, while those devoid of 'face' will not be able to improve their ways." These five were, in point of fact, usages in vogue in the Ning mansion. But as you are unable, reader, to ascertain here how lady Feng set things right, listen to the explanations given in the following chapter. CHAPTER XIV. Lin Ju-hai dies in the City of Yang Chou. Chia Pao-yü meets the Prince of Pei Ching on the way. When Lai Sheng, be it noticed in continuing our story, the major-domo in the Ning Kuo mansion, came to hear that from inside an invitation had been extended to lady Feng to act as deputy, he summoned together his co-workers and other servants. "Lady Secunda, of the western mansion," he harangued them, "has now been asked to take over the control of internal affairs; and should she come we must, when we apply for anything, or have anything to say, be circumspect in our service; we should all every day come early and leave late; and it's better that we should exert ourselves during this one month and take rest after it's over. We mustn't throw away our old 'face,' for she's well known to be an impetuous thing, with a soured face and a hard heart, who, when angry, knows no distinction of persons." The whole company unanimously admitted that he was right; and one of their number too observed smilingly, "It's but right that for the inner apartments, we should, in fact, get her to come and put things in proper order, as everything is very much what it should not be." But while he uttered these words, they saw Lai Wang's wife coming, with an indent in hand, to fetch paper for the supplications and prayers, the amount of which was mentioned on the order; and they one and all hastened to press her into a seat, and to help her to a cup of tea; while a servant was told to fetch the quantity of paper required. (When it was brought,) Lai Wang carried it in his arms and came, the whole way with his wife, as far as the ceremonial gate; when he, at length, delivered it over to her and she clasped it, and walked into the room all alone. Lady Feng issued prompt directions to Ts'ai Ming to prepare a register; and sending, there and then, for Lai Sheng's wife, she asked her to submit, for her perusal, the roll with the servants' names. She furthermore fixed upon an early hour of the following day to convene the domestics and their wives in the mansion, in order that they should receive their orders; but, after cursorily glancing over the number of entries in the list, and making a few inquiries of Lai Sheng's wife, she soon got into her curricle, and went home. On the next day, at six and two quarters, she speedily came over. The matrons and married women of the Ning Kuo mansion assembled together, as soon as they heard of her arrival; but, perceiving lady Feng, assisted by Lai Sheng's wife, engaged in apportioning the duties of each servant, they could not presume to intrude, but remained outside the window listening to what was going on. "As I've been asked to take over the charge," they heard lady Feng explain to Lai Sheng's wife, "I'm, needless to say, sure to incur the displeasure of you all, for I can't compare with your mistress, who has such a sweet temper, and allows you to have your own way. But saying nothing more of those ways, which prevailed hitherto among your people in this mansion, you must now do as I tell you; for on the slightest disregard of my orders, I shall, with no discrimination between those who may be respectable and those who may not be, clearly and distinctly call all alike to account." Having concluded these remarks, she went on to order Ts'ai Ming to read the roll; and, as their names were uttered, one by one was called in, and passed under inspection. After this inspection, which was got over in a short time, she continued giving further directions. "These twenty," she said "should be divided into two companies; ten in each company, whose sole daily duties should be to attend inside to the guests, coming and going, and to serve tea for them; while with any other matters, they needn't have anything to do. These other twenty should also be divided into two companies, whose exclusive duties will be, day after day, to look after the tea and eatables of the relatives of our family; and these too will have no business to concern themselves with outside matters. These forty will again be divided into two companies, who will have nothing else to look to than to remain in front of the coffin and offer incense, renew the oil, hang up the streamers, watch the coffin, offer sacrifices of rice, and oblations of tea, and mourn with the mourners; and neither need they mind anything outside these duties. These four servants will be specially attached to the inner tea-rooms to look after cups, saucers and the tea articles generally; and in the event of the loss of any single thing, the four of them will have to make it good between them. These other four servants will have the sole charge of the articles required for eatables and wine; and should any get mislaid compensation will have likewise to be made by them. These eight servants will only have to attend to taking over the sacrificial offerings; while these eight will have nothing more to see to beyond keeping an eye over the lamps, oil, candles and paper wanted everywhere. I'll have a whole supply served out and handed to you eight to by and by apportion to the various places, in quantities which I will determine. These thirty servants are each day, by rotation, to keep watch everywhere during the night, looking after the gates and windows, taking care of the fires and candles, and sweeping the grounds; while the servants, who remain, are to be divided for duty in the houses and rooms, each one having charge of a particular spot. And beginning from the tables, chairs and curios in each place, up to the very cuspidors and brooms, yea even to each blade of grass or sprout of herb, which may be there, the servants looking after this part will be called upon to make good anything that may be either mislaid or damaged. You, Lai Sheng's wife, will every day have to exercise general supervision and inspection; and should there be those who be lazy, any who may gamble, drink, fight or wrangle, come at once and report the matter to me; and you mustn't show any leniency, for if I come to find it out, I shall have no regard to the good old name of three or four generations, which you may enjoy. You now all have your fixed duties, so that whatever batch of you after this acts contrary to these orders, I shall simply have something to say to that batch and to no one else. The servants, who have all along been in my service, carry watches on their persons, and things, whether large or small, are invariably done at a fixed time. But, in any case, you also have clocks in your master's rooms, so that at 6.30, I shall come and read the roll, and at ten you'll have breakfast. Whenever there is any indent of any permits to be made or any report to be submitted, it should be done at 11.30 a.m. and no later. At 7 p.m., after the evening paper has been burnt, I shall come to each place in person to hold an inspection; and on my return, the servants on watch for the night will hand over the keys. The next day, I shall again come over at 6.30 in the morning; and needless to say we must all do the best we can for these few days; and when the work has been finished your master is sure to recompense you." When she had done speaking, she went on to give orders that tea, oil, candles, feather dusters, brooms and other necessaries should be issued, according to the fixed quantities. She also had furniture, such as table-covers, antimacassars, cushions, rugs, cuspidors, stools and the like brought over and distributed; while, at the same time, she took up the pencil and made a note of the names of the persons in charge of the various departments, and of the articles taken over by the respective servants, in entries remarkable for the utmost perspicacity. The whole body of servants received their charge and left; but they all had work to go and attend to; not as in former times, when they were at liberty to select for themselves what was convenient to do, while the arduous work, which remained over, no one could be found to take in hand. Neither was it possible for them in the various establishments to any longer avail themselves of the confusion to carelessly mislay things. In fact, visitors came and guests left, but everything after all went off quietly, unlike the disorderly way which prevailed hitherto, when there was no clue to the ravel; and all such abuses as indolence, and losses, and the like were completely eradicated. Lady Feng, on her part, (perceiving) the weight her influence had in enjoining the observance of her directions, was in her heart exceedingly delighted. But as she saw, that Chia Chen was, in consequence of Mrs. Yu's indisposition, even so much the more grieved as to take very little to drink or to eat, she daily, with her own hands, prepared, in the other mansion, every kind of fine congee and luscious small dishes, which she sent over, in order that he might be tempted to eat. And Chia Lien had likewise given additional directions that every day the finest delicacies should be taken into the ante-chamber, for the exclusive use of lady Feng. Lady Feng was not one to shirk exertion and fatigue, so that, day after day, she came over at the proper time, called the roll, and managed business, sitting all alone in the ante-chamber, and not congregating with the whole bevy of sisters-in-law. Indeed, even when relatives or visitors came or went, she did not go to receive them, or see them off. This day was the thirty-fifth day, the very day of the fifth seven, and the whole company of bonzes had just (commenced the services) for unclosing the earth, and breaking Hell open; for sending a light to show the way to the departed spirit; for its being admitted to an audience by the king of Hell; for arresting all the malicious devils, as well as for soliciting the soul-saving Buddha to open the golden bridge and to lead the way with streamers. The Taoist priests were engaged in reverently reading the prayers; in worshipping the Three Pure Ones and in prostrating themselves before the Gemmy Lord. The disciples of abstraction were burning incense, in order to release the hungered spirits, and were reading the water regrets manual. There was also a company of twelve nuns of tender years, got up in embroidered dresses, and wearing red shoes, who stood before the coffin, silently reading all the incantations for the reception of the spirit (from the lower regions,) with the result that the utmost bustle and stir prevailed. Lady Feng, well aware that not a few guests would call on this day, was quick to get out of bed at four sharp, to dress her hair and perform her ablutions. After having completed every arrangement for the day, she changed her costume, washed her hands, and swallowed a couple of mouthfuls of milk. By the time she had rinsed her mouth, it was exactly 6.30; and Lai Wang's wife, at the head of a company of servants, had been waiting a good long while, when lady Feng appeared in front of the Entrance Hall, mounted her carriage and betook herself, preceded by a pair of transparent horn lanterns, on which were written, in large type, the three characters, Jung Kuo mansion, to the main entrance gate of the Ning Household. The door lanterns shed brilliant rays from where they were suspended; while on either side the lanterns, of uniform colours, propped upright, emitted a lustrous light as bright as day. The servants of the family, got up in their mourning clothes, covered the ground far and wide like a white sheet. They stood drawn in two rows, and requested that the carriage should drive up to the main entrance. The youths retired, and all the married women came forward, and raising the curtain of the carriage, lady Feng alighted; and as with one arm she supported herself on Feng Erh, two married women, with lanterns in their hands, lighted the way. Pressed round by the servants, lady Feng made her entry. The married women of the Ning mansion advanced to greet her, and to pay their respects; and this over, lady Feng, with graceful bearing, entered the Garden of Concentrated Fragrance. Ascending the Spirit Hall, where the tablet was laid, the tears, as soon as she caught sight of the coffin, trickled down her eyes like pearls whose string had snapped; while the youths in the court, and their number was not small, stood in a reverent posture, with their arms against their sides, waiting to burn the paper. Lady Feng uttered one remark, by way of command: "Offer the tea and burn the paper!" when the sound of two blows on the gong was heard and the whole band struck up together. A servant had at an early period placed a large armchair in front of the tablet, and lady Feng sat down, and gave way to loud lamentations. Promptly all those, who stood inside or outside, whether high or low, male or female, took up the note, and kept on wailing and weeping until Chia Chen and Mrs. Yu, after a time, sent a message to advise her to withhold her tears; when at length lady Feng desisted. Lai Wang's wife served the tea; and when she had finished rinsing her mouth, lady Feng got up; and, taking leave of all the members of the clan, she walked all alone into the ante-chamber, where she ascertained, in the order of their names, the number of the servants of every denomination in there. They were all found to be present, with the exception of one, who had failed to appear, whose duties consisted in receiving and escorting the relatives and visitors. Orders were promptly given to summon him, and the man appeared in a dreadful fright. "What!" exclaimed lady Feng, as she forced a smile, "is it you who have been remiss? Is it because you're more respectable than they that you don't choose to listen to my words?" "Your servant," he pleaded, "has come at an early hour every day; and it's only to-day that I come late by one step; and I entreat your ladyship to forgive this my first offence." While yet he spoke, she perceived the wife of Wang Hsing, of the Jung Kuo mansion, come forward and pop her head in to see what was going on; but lady Feng did not let this man go, but went on to inquire of Wang Hsing's wife what she had come for. Wang Hsing's wife drew near. "I've come," she explained, "to get an order, so as to obtain some thread to make tassels for the carriages and chairs." Saying this, she produced the permit and handed it up, whereupon lady Feng directed Ts'ai Ming to read the contents aloud. "For two large, sedan chairs," he said, "four small sedan chairs and four carriages, are needed in all so many large and small tassels, each tassel requiring so many catties of beads and thread." Lady Feng finding, after she had heard what was read, that the numbers (and quantities) corresponded, forthwith bade Ts'ai Ming make the proper entry; and when the order from the Jung Kuo mansion had been fetched, and thrown at her, Wang Hsing's wife took her departure. Lady Feng was on the very point of saying something, when she espied four managers of the Jung Kuo mansion walk in; all of whom wanted permits to indent for stores. Having asked them to read out the list of what they required, she ascertained that they wanted four kinds of articles in all. Drawing attention to two items: "These entries," she remarked, "are wrong; and you had better go again and make out the account clearly, and then come and fetch a permit." With these words, she flung down the requisitions, and the two men went their way in lower spirits than when they had come. Lady Feng then caught sight of the wife of Chang Ts'ai standing by, and asked her what was her business, whereupon Chang Ts'ai's wife promptly produced an indent. "The covers of the carriages and sedan chairs," she reported, "have just been completed, and I've come to fetch the amount due to the tailors for wages." Lady Feng, upon hearing her explanation, took over the indent, and directed Ts'ai Ming to enter the items in the book. After Wang Hsing had handed over the money, and obtained the receipt of the accountant, duly signed, which tallied with the payment, he subsequently walked away in company with Chang Ts'ai's wife. Lady Feng simultaneously proceeded to give orders that another indent should be read, which was for money to purchase paper with to paste on the windows of Pao-yü's outer school-room, the repairs to which had been brought to completion, and as soon as lady Feng heard the nature of the application, she there and then gave directions that the permit should be taken over and an entry made, and that the money should be issued after Chang Ts'ai's wife had delivered everything clearly. "If to-morrow he were to come late," lady Feng then remarked, "and if the day after, I were to come late; why by and by there'll be no one here at all! I should have liked to have let you off, but if I be lenient with you on this first instance, it will be hard for me, on the occurrence of another offence, to exercise any control over the rest. It's much better therefore that I should settle accounts with you." The moment she uttered these words, she put on a serious look, and gave orders that he should be taken out and administered twenty blows with the bamboo. When the servants perceived that lady Feng was in an angry mood, they did not venture to dilly-dally, but dragged him out, and gave him the full number of blows; which done, they came in to report that the punishment had been inflicted. Lady Feng likewise threw down the Ning Mansion order and exclaimed, addressing herself to Lai Sheng: "Cut him a month's wages and rice! and tell them all to disperse, and have done with it!" All the servants at length withdrew to attend to their respective duties, while the man too, who had been flogged, walked away, as he did all he could to conceal his shame and stifle his tears. About this time arrived and went, in an incessant stream, servants from both the Jung and Ning mansions, bent upon applying for permits and returning permits, and with one by one again did lady Feng settle accounts. And, as in due course, the inmates of the Ning mansion came to know how terrible lady Feng was, each and all were ever since so wary and dutiful that they did not venture to be lazy. But without going into further details on this subject, we shall now return to Pao-yü. Seeing that there were a lot of people about and fearing lest Ch'in Chung might receive some offence, he lost no time in coming along with him to sit over at lady Feng's. Lady Feng was just having her repast, and upon seeing them arrive: "Your legs are long enough, and couldn't you have come somewhat quicker!" she laughingly observed. "We've had our rice, thanks," replied Pao-yü. "Have you had it," inquired lady Feng, "outside here, or over on the other side?" "Would we eat anything with all that riff-raff?" exclaimed Pao-yü; "we've really had it over there; in fact, I now come after having had mine with dowager lady Chia." As he uttered these words, they took their seats. Lady Feng had just finished her meal, when a married woman from the Ning mansion came to get an order to obtain an advance of money to purchase incense and lanterns with. "I calculated," observed lady Feng, "that you would come to-day to make requisition, but I was under the impression that you had forgotten; had you really done so you would certainly have had to get them on your own account, and I would have been the one to benefit." "Didn't I forget? I did," rejoined the married woman as she smiled; "and it's only a few minutes back that it came to my mind; had I been one second later I wouldn't have been in time to get the things." These words ended, she took over the order and went off. Entries had, at the time to be made in the books, and orders to be issued, and Ch'in Chung was induced to interpose with a smirk, "In both these mansions of yours, such orders are alike in use; but were any outsider stealthily to counterfeit one and to abscond, after getting the money, what could ever be done?" "In what you say," replied lady Feng, "you take no account of the laws of the land." "How is it that from our house, no one comes to get any orders or to obtain anything?" Pao-yü having inquired: "At the time they come to fetch them," rejoined lady Feng, "you're still dreaming; but let me ask you one thing, when will you two at last begin your evening course of studies?" "Oh, I wish we were able to begin our studies this very day," Pao-yü added; "that would be the best thing, but they're very slow in putting the school-room in order, so that there's no help for it!" Lady Feng laughed. "Had you asked me," she remarked, "I can assure you it would have been ready quick enough." "You too would have been of no use," observed Pao-yü, "for it will certainly be ready by the time they ought to finish it in." "But in order that they should do the work," suggested lady Feng, "it's also necessary that they should have the material, they can't do without them; and if I don't give them any permits, it will be difficult to obtain them." Pao-yü at these words readily drew near to lady Feng, and there and then applied for the permits. "My dear sister," he added, "do give them the permits to enable them to obtain the material and effect the repairs." "I feel quite sore from fatigue," ventured lady Feng, "and how can I stand your rubbing against me? but compose your mind. They have this very day got the paper, and gone to paste it; and would they, for whatever they need, have still waited until they had been sent for? they are not such fools after all!" Pao-yü would not believe it, and lady Feng at once called Ts'ai Ming to look up the list, which she handed for Pao-yü's inspection; but while they were arguing a servant came in to announce that Chao Erh, who had gone to Su Chow, had returned, and lady Feng all in a flurry directed that he should be asked to walk in. Chao Erh bent one knee and paid his obeisance. "Why have you come back?" lady Feng readily inquired. "Mr. Secundus (Chia Lien)," he reported, "sent me back to tell you that Mr. Lin (our dowager lady's) son-in-law, died on the third of the ninth moon; that Master Secundus is taking Miss Lin along with him to escort the coffin of Mr. Lin as far as Su Chow; and that they hope to be back some time about the end of the year. Master despatched me to come and announce the news, to bring his compliments, and to crave our old lady's instructions as well as to see how you are getting on in my lady's home. He also bade me take back to him a few long fur pelisses." "Have you seen any one else besides me?" lady Feng inquired. "I've seen every one," rejoined Chao Erh; and withdrew hastily at the conclusion of this remark, out of the apartment, while lady Feng turned towards Pao-yü with a smile and said, "Your cousin Lin can now live in our house for ever." "Poor thing!" exclaimed Pao-yü. "I presume that during all these days she has wept who knows how much;" and saying this he wrinkled his brow and heaved a deep sigh. Lady Feng saw Chao Erh on his return, but as she could not very well, in the presence of third persons, make minute inquiries after Chia Lien, she had to continue a prey to inward solicitude till it was time to go home, for, not having got through what she had to do, she was compelled to wait patiently until she went back in the evening, when she again sent word for Chao Erh to come in, and asked him with all minuteness whether the journey had been pleasant throughout, and for full particulars. That very night, she got in readiness the long pelisses, which she herself, with the assistance of P'ing Erh, packed up in a bundle; and after careful thought as to what things he would require, she put them in the same bundle and committed them to Chao Erh's care. She went on to solicitously impress upon Chao Erh to be careful in his attendance abroad. "Don't provoke your master to wrath," she said, "and from time to time do advise him not to drink too much wine; and don't entice him to make the acquaintance of any low people; for if you do, when you come back I will cut your leg off." The preparations were hurriedly and confusedly completed; and it was already the fourth watch of the night when she went to sleep. But soon again the day dawned, and after hastily performing her toilette and ablutions, she came over to the Ning Mansion. As Chia Chen realised that the day for escorting the body away was drawing nigh, he in person went out in a curricle, along with geomancers, to the Temple of the Iron Fence to inspect a suitable place for depositing the coffin. He also, point by point, enjoined the resident managing-bonze, Se K'ung, to mind and get ready brand-new articles of decoration and furniture, and to invite a considerable number of bonzes of note to be at hand to lend their services for the reception of the coffin. Se K'ung lost no time in getting ready the evening meal, but Chia Chen had, in fact, no wish for any tea or rice; and, as the day was far advanced and he was not in time to enter the city, he had, after all, to rest during that night as best he could in a "chaste" room in the temple. The next morning, as soon as it was day, he hastened to come into the city and to make every preparation for the funeral. He likewise deputed messengers to proceed ahead to the Temple of the Iron Fence to give, that very night, additional decorative touches to the place where the coffin was to be deposited, and to get ready tea and all the other necessaries, for the use of the persons who would be present at the reception of the coffin. Lady Feng, seeing that the day was not far distant, also apportioned duties and made provision for everything beforehand with circumspect care; while at the same time she chose in the Jung mansion, such carriages, sedan chairs and retinue as were to accompany the cortege, in attendance upon madame Wang, and gave her mind furthermore to finding a place where she herself could put up in at the time of the funeral. About this very time, it happened that the consort of the Duke Shan Kuo departed this life, and that mesdames Wang and Hsing had likewise to go and offer sacrifices, and to follow the burial procession; that the birthday occurred of the consort of Prince Hsi An; that presents had to be forwarded on the occasion of this anniversary; and that the consort of the Duke of Chen Kuo gave birth to a first child, a son, and congratulatory gifts had, in like manner, to be provided. Besides, her uterine brother Wang Jen was about to return south, with all his family, and she had too to write her home letters, to send her reverent compliments to her father and mother, as well as to get the things ready that were to be taken along. There was also Ying Ch'un, who had contracted some illness, and the doctor had every day to be sent for, and medicines to be administered, the notes of the doctor to be looked after, consisting of the bulletins of the diagnosis and the prescriptions, with the result that the various things that had to be attended to by lady Feng were so manifold that it would, indeed, be difficult to give an exhaustive idea of them. In addition to all this, the day for taking the coffin away was close at hand, so that lady Feng was so hard pressed for time that she had even no desire for any tea to drink or anything to eat, and that she could not sit or rest in peace. As soon as she put her foot into the Ning mansion, the inmates of the Jung mansion would follow close upon her heels; and the moment she got back into the Jung mansion, the servants again of the Ning mansion would follow her about. In spite however of this great pressure, lady Feng, whose natural disposition had ever been to try and excel, was urged to strain the least of her energies, as her sole dread was lest she should incur unfavourable criticism from any one; and so excellent were the plans she devised, that every one in the clan, whether high or low, readily conceded her unlimited praise. On the night of this day, the body had to be watched, and in the inner suite of apartments two companies of young players as well as jugglers entertained the relatives, friends and other visitors during the whole of the night. Mrs. Yu was still laid up in the inside room, so that the whole task of attending to and entertaining the company devolved upon lady Feng alone, who had to look after everything; for though there were, in the whole clan, many sisters-in-law, some there were too bashful to speak, others too timid to stand on their feet; while there were also those who were not accustomed to meeting company; and those likewise who were afraid of people of high estate and shy of officials. Of every kind there were, but the whole number of them could not come up to lady Feng's standard, whose deportment was correct and whose speech was according to rule. Hence it was that she did not even so much as heed any of that large company, but gave directions and issued orders, adopting any course of action which she fancied, just as if there were no bystander. The whole night, the lanterns emitted a bright light and the fires brilliant rays; while guests were escorted on their way out and officials greeted on their way in; but of this hundredfold bustle and stir nothing need, of course, be said. The next morning at the dawn of day, and at a propitious moment, sixty-four persons, dressed all alike in blue, carried the coffin, preceded by a streamer with the record in large characters: Coffin of lady Ch'in, a lady of the fifth degree, (by marriage) of the Chia mansion, deceased at middle age, consort of the grandson of the Ning Kuo Duke with the first rank title of honour, (whose status is) a guard of the Imperial antechamber, charged with the protection of the Inner Palace and Roads in the Red Prohibited City. The various paraphernalia and ornaments were all brand-new, hurriedly made for the present occasion, and the uniform lustrous brilliancy they shed was sufficient to dazzle the eyes. Pao-chu, of course, observed the rites prescribed for unmarried daughters, and dashed the bowl and walked by the coffin, as she gave way to most bitter lamentations. At that time, among the officials who escorted the funeral procession, were Niu Chi-tsung, the grandson of the Chen Kuo duke, who had now inherited the status of earl of the first degree; Liu Fang, the grandson of Liu Piao, duke of Li Kuo, who had recently inherited the rank of viscount of the first class; Ch'en Jui-wen, a grandson of Ch'en Yi, duke of Ch'i Kuo, who held the hereditary rank of general of the third degree, with the prefix of majestic authority; Ma Shang, the grandson of Ma K'uei, duke of Chih Kuo, by inheritance general of the third rank with the prefix of majesty afar; Hou Hsiao-keng, an hereditary viscount of the first degree, grandson of the duke of Hsiu Kuo, Hou Hsiao-ming by name; while the death of the consort of the duke of Shan Kuo had obliged his grandson Shih Kuang-chu to go into mourning so that he could not be present. These were the six families which had, along with the two households of Jung and Ning, been, at one time, designated the eight dukes. Among the rest, there were besides the grandson of the Prince of Nan An; the grandson of the Prince of Hsi An; Shih Ting, marquis of Chung Ching; Chiang Tzu-ning, an hereditary baron of the second grade, grandson of the earl of P'ing Yuan; Hsieh K'un, an hereditary baron of the second order and Captain of the Metropolitan camp, grandson of the marquis of Ting Ch'ang: Hsi Chien-hui, an hereditary baron of the second rank, a grandson of the marquis of Nang Yang; Ch'in Liang, in command of the Five Cities, grandson of the marquis of Ching T'ien. The remainder were Wei Chi, the son of the earl of Chin Hsiang; Feng Tzu-ying, the son of a general, whose prefix was supernatural martial spirit; Ch'en Yeh-chün, Wei Jo-lan and others, grandsons and sons of princes who could not be enumerated. In the way of ladies, there were also in all about ten large official sedan chairs full of them, thirty or forty private chairs, and including the official and non-official chairs, and carriages containing inmates of the household, there must have been over a hundred and ten; so that with the various kinds of paraphernalia, articles of decoration and hundreds of nick-nacks, which preceded, the vast expanse of the cortege covered a continuous line extending over three or four li. They had not been very long on their way, when they reached variegated sheds soaring high by the roadside, in which banquets were spread, feasts laid out, and music discoursed in unison. These were the viatory sacrificial offerings contributed by the respective families. The first shed contained the sacrificial donations of the mansion of the Prince of Tung P'ing; the second shed those of the Prince of Nan An; the third those of the Prince of Hsi Ning, and the fourth those of the Prince of Pei Ching. Indeed of these four Princes, the reputation enjoyed in former days by the Prince of Pei Ching had been the most exalted, and to this day his sons and grandsons still succeeded to the inheritance of the princely dignity. The present incumbent of the Princedom of Pei Ching, Shih Jung, had not as yet come of age, but he was gifted with a presence of exceptional beauty, and with a disposition condescending and genial. At the demise, recently, of the consort of the eldest grandson of the mansion of Ning Kuo, he, in consideration of the friendship which had formerly existed between the two grandfathers, by virtue of which they had been inseparable, both in adversity as well as in prosperity, treating each other as if they had not been of different surnames, was consequently induced to pay no regard to princely dignity or to his importance, but having like the others paid, on the previous day, his condolences and presented sacrificial offerings, he had further now raised a shed wherein to offer libations. Having directed every one of his subordinate officers to remain in this spot in attendance, he himself went at the fifth watch to court, and when he acquitted himself of his public duties he forthwith changed his attire for a mourning costume, and came along, in an official sedan chair, preceded by gongs and umbrellas. Upon reaching the front of the shed the chair was deposited on the ground, and as his subordinate officers pressed on either side and waited upon him, neither the military nor the populace, which composed the mass of people, ventured to make any commotion. In a short while, the long procession of the Ning mansion became visible, spreading far and wide, covering in its course from the north, the whole ground like a silver mountain. At an early hour, the forerunners, messengers and other attendants on the staff of the Ning mansion apprised Chia Chen (of the presence of the sheds), and Chia Chen with all alacrity gave orders that the foremost part of the cortege should halt. Attended by Chia She and Chia Chen, the three of them came with hurried step to greet (the Prince of Pei Ching), whom they saluted with due ceremony. Shih Jung, who was seated in his sedan chair, made a bow and returned their salutations with a smile, proceeding to address them and to treat them, as he had done hitherto, as old friends, without any airs of self-importance. "My daughter's funeral has," observed Chia Chen, "put your Highness to the trouble of coming, an honour which we, though noble by birth, do not deserve." Shih Jung smiled. "With the terms of friendship," he added, "which have existed for so many generations (between our families), is there any need for such apologies?" Turning his head round there and then, he gave directions to the senior officer of his household to preside at the sacrifices and to offer libations in his stead; and Chia She and the others stood together on one side and made obeisance in return, and then came in person again and gave expression to their gratitude for his bounty. Shih Jung was most affable and complaisant. "Which is the gentleman," he inquired of Chia Chen, "who was born with a piece of jade in his mouth? I've long had a wish to have the pleasure of seeing him, and as he's sure to be on the spot on an occasion like this, why shouldn't you invite him to come round?" Chia Chen speedily drew back, and bidding Pao-yü change his mourning clothes, he led him forward and presented him. Pao-yü had all along heard that Shih Jung was a worthy Prince, perfect in ability as well as in appearance, pleasant and courteous, not bound down by any official custom or state rite, so that he had repeatedly felt a keen desire to meet him. With the sharp control, however, which his father exercised over him, he had not been able to gratify his wish. But on this occasion, he saw on the contrary that he came to call him, and it was but natural that he should be delighted. Whilst advancing, he scrutinised Shih Jung with the corner of his eye, who, seated as he was in the sedan chair, presented an imposing sight. But, reader, what occurred on his approach is not yet known, but listen to the next chapter, which will divulge it. CHAPTER XV. Lady Peng, née Wang, exercises her authority in the Iron Fence Temple. Ch'in Ching-ch'ing (Ch'ing Chung) amuses himself in the Man-t'ou (Bread) nunnery. But we shall now resume our story. When Pao-yü raised his eyes, he noticed that Shih Jung, Prince of Pei Ching, wore on his head a princely cap with pure white tassels and silvery feathers, that he was appareled in a white ceremonial robe, (with a pattern representing) the toothlike ripple of a river and the waters of the sea, embroidered with five-clawed dragons; and that he was girded with a red leather belt, inlaid with white jade. That his face was like a beauteous gem; that his eyes were like sparkling stars; and that he was, in very truth, a human being full of graceful charms. Pao-yü hastily pressed forward and made a reverent obeisance, and Shih Jung lost no time in extending his arms from inside the sedan-chair, and embracing him. At a glance, he saw that Pao-yü had on his head a silver cap, to which the hair was attached, that he had, round his forehead, a flap on which were embroidered a couple of dragons issuing from the sea, that he wore a white archery-sleeved robe, ornamented with dragons, and that his waist was encircled by a silver belt, inlaid with pearls; that his face resembled vernal flowers and that his eyes were like drops of lacquer. Shih Jung smiled. "Your name is," he said, "no trumped-up story; for you, verily, resemble a precious gem; but where's the valuable trinket you had in your mouth?" he inquired. As soon as Pao-yü heard this inquiry, he hastened to produce the jade from inside his clothes and to hand it over to Shih Jung. Shih Jung minutely examined it; and having also read the motto on it, he consequently ascertained whether it was really efficacious or not. "It's true that it's said to be," Pao-yü promptly explained, "but it hasn't yet been put to the test." Shih Jung extolled it with unbounded praise, and, as he did so, he set the variegated tassels in proper order, and, with his own hands, attached it on to Pao-yü's neck. Taking also his hand in his, he inquired of Pao-yü what was his age? and what books he was reading at present, to each of which questions Pao-yü gave suitable answer. Shih Jung perceiving the perspicacity of his speech and the propriety of his utterances, simultaneously turned towards Chia Chen and observed with a smile on his face: "Your worthy son is, in very truth, like the young of a dragon or like the nestling of a phoenix! and this isn't an idle compliment which I, a despicable prince, utter in your venerable presence! But how much more glorious will be, in the future, the voice of the young phoenix than that of the old phoenix, it isn't easy to ascertain." Chia Chen forced a smile: "My cur-like son," he replied, "cannot presume to such bountiful praise and golden commendation; but if, by the virtue of your Highness' excess of happiness, he does indeed realise your words, he will be a source of joy to us all!" "There's one thing, however," continued Shih Jung; "with the excellent abilities which your worthy scion possesses, he's sure, I presume, to be extremely loved by her dowager ladyship, (his grandmother), and by all classes. But for young men of our age it's a great drawback to be doated upon, for with over-fondness, we cannot help utterly frustrating the benefits of education. When I, a despicable prince, was young, I walked in this very track, and I presume that your honourable son cannot likewise but do the same. By remaining at home, your worthy scion will find it difficult to devote his attention to study; and he will not reap any harm, were he to come, at frequent intervals, to my humble home; for though my deserts be small, I nevertheless enjoy the great honour of the acquaintance of all the scholars of note in the Empire, so that, whenever any of them visit the capital, not one of them is there who does not lower his blue eyes upon me. Hence it is that in my mean abode, eminent worthies rendezvous; and were your esteemed son to come, as often as he can, and converse with them and meet them, his knowledge would, in that case, have every opportunity of making daily strides towards improvement." Chia Chen speedily bent his body and expressed his acquiescence, by way of reply; whereupon Shih Jung went further, and taking off from his wrist a chaplet of pearls, he presented it to Pao-yü. "This is the first time we meet," he observed. "Our meeting was so unexpected that I have no suitable congratulatory present to offer you. This was conferred upon me by His Majesty, and is a string of chaplet-pearls, scented with Ling Ling, which will serve as a temporary token of respectful congratulations." Pao-yü hastened to receive it from his hands, and turning round, he reverently presented it to Chia Chen. Chia Chen and Pao-yü jointly returned thanks; and forthwith Chia She, Chia Chen and the rest came forward in a body, and requested the Prince to turn his chair homewards. "The departed," expostulated Shih Jung, "has already ascended the spiritual regions, and is no more a mortal being in this dusty world exposed to vicissitude like you and I. Although a mean prince like me has been the recipient of the favour of the Emperor, and has undeservedly been called to the princely inheritance, how could I presume to go before the spiritual hearse and return home?" Chia She and the others, perceiving how persistent he was in his refusal had no course but to take their leave, express their sense of gratitude and to rejoin the cortege. They issued orders to their servants to stop the band, and to hush the music, and making the procession go by, they at length left the way clear for Shih Jung to prosecute his way. But we will now leave him and resume our account of the funeral of the Ning mansion. All along its course the road was plunged in unusual commotion. As soon as they reached the city gates Chia She, Chia Cheng, Chia Chen, and the others again received donations from all their fellow officers and subordinates, in sacrificial sheds erected by their respective families, and after they returned thanks to one after another, they eventually issued from the city walls, and proceeded eventually along the highway, in the direction of the Temple of the Iron Fence. Chia Chen, at this time, went, together with Chia Jung, up to all their seniors, and pressed them to get into their sedan chairs, and to ride their horses; and Chia She and all of the same age as himself were consequently induced to mount into their respective carriages or chairs. Chia Chen and those of the same generation were likewise about to ride their horses, when lady Feng, through her solicitude on Pao-yü's account, gave way to fears lest now that they had reached the open country, he should do as he pleased, and not listen to the words of any of the household, and lest Chia Chen should not be able to keep him in check; and, as she dreaded that he might go astray, she felt compelled to bid a youth call him to her; and Pao-yü had no help but to appear before her curricle. "My dear brother," lady Feng remarked smiling, "you are a respectable person, and like a girl in your ways, and shouldn't imitate those monkeys on horseback! do get down and let both you and I sit together in this carriage; and won't that be nice?" At these words, Pao-yü readily dismounted and climbed up into the carriage occupied by lady Feng; and they both talked and laughed, as they continued their way. But not a long time elapsed before two men, on horseback, were seen approaching from the opposite direction. Coming straight up to lady Feng's vehicle they dismounted, and said, as they leaned on the sides of her carriage, "There's a halting place here, and will it not please your ladyship to have a rest and change?" Lady Feng directed them to ask the two ladies Hsing and Wang what they would like to do, and the two men explained: "These ladies have signified that they had no desire to rest, and they wish your ladyship to suit your convenience." Lady Feng speedily issued orders that they should have a rest, before they prosecuted their way, and the servant youth led the harnessed horses through the crowd of people and came towards the north, while Pao-yü, from inside the carriage, urgently asked that Mr. Ch'in should be requested to come. Ch'in Chung was at this moment on horseback following in the track of his father's carriage, when unexpectedly he caught sight of Pao-yü's page, come at a running pace and invite him to have some refreshment. Ch'in Chung perceived from a distance that the horse, which Pao-yü had been riding, walked behind lady Feng's vehicle, as it went towards the north, with its saddle and bridles all piled up, and readily concluding that Pao-yü must be in the same carriage with that lady, he too turned his horse and came over in haste and entered, in their company, the door of a farm-house. This dwelling of the farmer's did not contain many rooms so that the women and girls had nowhere to get out of the way; and when the village lasses and country women perceived the bearing and costumes of lady Feng, Pao-yü, and Ch'in Chung, they were inclined to suspect that celestial beings had descended into the world. Lady Feng entered a thatched house, and, in the first place, asked Pao-yü and the rest to go out and play. Pao-yü took the hint, and, along with Ch'in Chung, he led off the servant boys and went to romp all over the place. The various articles in use among the farmers they had not seen before, with the result that after Pao-yü had inspected them, he thought them all very strange; but he could neither make out their names nor their uses. But among the servant boys, there were those who knew, and they explained to them, one after another, what they were called, as well as what they were for. As Pao-yü, after this explanation, nodded his head; "It isn't strange," he said, "that an old writer has this line in his poetical works, 'Who can realise that the food in a bowl is, grain by grain, all the fruit of labour.' This is indeed so!" As he spoke, they had come into another house; and at the sight of a spinning wheel on a stove-bed, they thought it still more strange and wonderful, but the servant boys again told them that it was used for spinning the yarn to weave cloth with, and Pao-yü speedily jumping on to the stove-bed, set to work turning the wheel for the sake of fun, when a village lass of about seventeen or eighteen years of age came forward, and asked them not to meddle with it and spoil it. The servant boys promptly stopped her interference; but Pao-yü himself desisted, as he added: "It's because I hadn't seen one before that I came to try it for fun." "You people can't do it," rejoined the lass, "let me turn it for you to see." Ch'in Chung secretly pulled Pao-yü and remarked, "It's great fun in this village!" but Pao-yü gave him a nudge and observed, "If you talk nonsense again, I'll beat you." Watching intently, as he uttered these words, the village girl who started reeling the thread, and presented, in very truth, a pretty sight. But suddenly an old woman from the other side gave a shout. "My girl Secunda, come over at once;" and the lass discarded the spinning-wheel and hastily went on her way. Pao-yü was the while feeling disappointed and unhappy, when he espied a servant, whom lady Feng had sent, come and call them both in. Lady Feng had washed her hands and changed her costume; and asked him whether he would change or not, and Pao-yü, having replied "No! it doesn't matter after all if I don't change," the female attendants served tea, cakes and fruits and also poured the scented tea. Lady Feng and the others drank their tea, and waiting until they had put the various articles by, and made all the preparations, they promptly started to get into their carriages. Outside, Wang Erh had got ready tips and gave them to the people of the farm, and the farm women and all the inmates went up to them to express their gratitude; but when Pao-yü came to look carefully, he failed to see anything of the lass who had reeled the thread. But they had not gone far before they caught sight of this girl Secunda coming along with a small child in her arms, who, they concluded, was her young brother, laughing and chatting, in company with a few young girls. Pao-yü could not suppress the voice of love, but being seated in the carriage, he was compelled to satisfy himself by following her with his eyes. Soon however the vehicle sped on as rapidly as a cloud impelled by the wind, so that when he turned his head round, there was already no vestige to be seen of her; but, while they were bandying words, they had unexpectedly overtaken the great concourse of the cortege. Likewise, at an early stage men were stationed ahead, with Buddhist drums and gold cymbals, with streamers, and jewelled coverings; and the whole company of bonzes, belonging to the Iron Fence Temple, had already been drawn out in a line by the sides of the road. In a short while, they reached the interior of the temple, where additional sacrifices were offered and Buddhistic services performed; and where altars had again been erected to burn incense on. The coffin was deposited in a side room of the inner court; and Pao Chu got ready a bed-room in which she could keep her watch. In the outer apartments, Chia Chen did the honours among the whole party of relatives and friends, some of whom asked to be allowed to stay for their meals, while others at this stage took their leave. And after they had one by one returned thanks, the dukes, marquises, earls, viscounts and barons, each in respective batches, (got up to go,) and they kept on leaving from between 1 and 3 p.m. before they had finally all dispersed. In the inner Chambers, the ladies were solely entertained and attended to by lady Feng. First to make a move were the consorts of officials; and noon had also come, by the time the whole party of them had taken their departure. Those that remained were simply a few relatives of the same clan and others like them, who eventually left after the completion of the three days' rationalistic liturgies. The two ladies Hsing and Wang, well aware at this time that lady Feng could on no account return home, desired to enter the city at once; and madame Wang wanted to take Pao-yü home; but Pao-yü, who had, on an unexpected occasion, come out into the country, entertained, of course, no wish to go back; and he would agree to nothing else than to stay behind with lady Feng, so that madame Wang had no alternative but to hand him over to her charge and to start. This Temple of the Iron Fence had, in fact, been erected in days gone by, at the expense of the two dukes Ning and Jung; and there still remained up to these days, acres of land, from which were derived the funds for incense and lights for such occasions, on which the coffins of any members, old or young, (who died) in the capital, had to be deposited in this temple; and the inner and outer houses, in this compound were all kept in readiness and good order, for the accommodation of those who formed part of the cortège. At this time, as it happened, the descendants mustered an immense crowd, and among them were poor and rich of various degrees, or with likes and dislikes diametrically opposed. There were those, who, being in straitened circumstances at home, and easily contented, readily took up their quarters in the temple. And there were those with money and position, and with extravagant ideas, who maintained that the accommodation in the temple was not suitable, and, of course, went in search of additional quarters, either in country houses, or in convents, where they could have their meals and retire, after the ceremonies were over. On the occasion of Mrs. Ch'in's funeral, all the members of the clan put up temporarily in the Iron Fence Temple; lady Feng alone looked down upon it as inconvenient, and consequently despatched a servant to go and tell Ch'ing Hsü, a nun in the Bread Convent, to empty two rooms for her to go and live in. This Bread Convent had at one time been styled the Shui Yueh nunnery (water moon); but as good bread was made in that temple, it gave rise to this nickname. This convent was not very distant from the Temple of the Iron Fence, so that as soon as the bonzes brought their functions to a close, and the sacrifice of evening was offered, Chia Chen asked Chia Jung to request lady Feng to retire to rest; and as lady Feng perceived that there still remained several sisters-in-law to keep company to the female relatives, she readily, of her own accord, took leave of the whole party, and, along with Pao-yü and Ch'in Chung, came to the Water Moon Convent. Ch'in Yeh, it must be noticed, was advanced in years and a victim to many ailments, so that he was unable to remain in the temple long, and he bade Ch'in Chung tarry until the coffin had been set in its resting place, with the result that Ch'in Chung came along, at the same time as lady Feng and Pao-yü, to the Water Moon Convent, where Ch'ing Hsü appeared, together with two neophytes, Chih Shan and Chih Neng, to receive them. After they had exchanged greetings, lady Feng and the others entered the "chaste" apartments to change their clothes and wash their hands; and when they had done, as she perceived how much taller in stature Chih Neng had grown and how much handsomer were her features, she felt prompted to inquire, "How is it that your prioress and yourselves haven't been all these days as far as our place?" "It's because during these days we haven't had any time which we could call our own," explained Ch'ing Hsü. "Owing to the birth of a son in Mr. Hu's mansion, dame Hu sent over about ten taels and asked that we should invite several head-nuns to read during three days the service for the churching of women, with the result that we've been so very busy and had so little leisure, that we couldn't come over to pay our respects to your ladyship." But leaving aside the old nun, who kept lady Feng company, we will now return to the two lads Pao-yü and Ch'in Chung. They were up to their pranks in the main building of the convent, when seeing Chih Neng come over: "Here's Neng Erh," Pao-yü exclaimed with a smile. "Why notice a creature like her?" remarked Ch'in Chung; to which Pao-yü rejoined laughingly: "Don't be sly! why then did you the other day, when you were in the old lady's rooms, and there was not a soul present, hold her in your arms? and do you want to fool me now ?" "There was nothing of the kind," observed Ch'in Chung smiling. "Whether there was or not," replied Pao-yü, "doesn't concern me; but if you will stop her and tell her to pour a cup of tea and bring it to me to drink, I'll then keep hands off." "This is indeed very strange!" Ch'in Chung answered laughing; "do you fear that if you told her to pour you one, that she wouldn't; and what need is there that I should tell her?" "If I ask her," Pao-yü observed, "to pour it, she wouldn't be as ready as she would were you to tell her about it." Ch'in Chung had no help but to speak. "Neng Erh!" he said, "bring a cup of tea." This Neng Erh had, since her youth, been in and out of the Jung mansion, so that there was no one that she did not know; and she had also, time after time, romped and laughed with Pao-yü and Ch'in Chung. Being now grown up she gradually came to know the import of love, and she readily took a fancy to Ch'in Chung, who was an amorous being. Ch'in Chung too returned her affection, on account of her good looks; and, although he and she had not had any very affectionate tête-à-têtes, they had, however, long ago come to understand each other's feelings and wishes. Chih Neng walked away and returned after having poured the tea. "Give it to me," Ch'in Chung cried out smirkingly; while Pao-yü likewise shouted: "Give it to me." Chih Neng compressed her lips and sneeringly rejoined, "Are you going to have a fight even over a cup of tea? Is it forsooth likely that there's honey in my hand?" Pao-yü was the first to grasp and take over the cup, but while drinking it, he was about to make some inquiry, when he caught sight of Chih Shan, who came and called Chih Neng away to go and lay the plates with fruit on the table. Not much time elapsed before she came round to request the two lads to go and have tea and refreshments; but would they eat such things as were laid before them? They simply sat for a while and came out again and resumed their play. Lady Feng too stayed for a few moments, and then returned, with the old nun as her escort, into the "unsullied" rooms to lie down. By this time, all the matrons and married women discovered that there was nothing else to be done, and they dispersed in succession, retiring each to rest. There only remained in attendance several young girls who enjoyed her confidence, and the old nun speedily availed herself of the opportunity to speak. "I've got something," she said, "about which I mean to go to your mansion to beg of madame Wang; but I'll first request you, my lady, to tell me how to set to work." "What's it?" ascertained lady Feng. "O-mi-to-fu!" exclaimed the old nun, "It's this; in days gone by, I first lived in the Ch'ang An district. When I became a nun and entered the monastery of Excellent Merit, there lived, at that time, a subscriber, Chang by surname, a very wealthy man. He had a daughter, whose infant name was Chin Ko; the whole family came in the course of that year to the convent I was in, to offer incense, and as luck would have it they met Li Ya-nei, a brother of a secondary wife of the Prefect of the Ch'ang An Prefecture. This Li Ya-nei fell in love at first sight with her, and would wed Chin Ko as his wife. He sent go-betweens to ask her in marriage, but, contrary to his expectations, Chin Ko had already received the engagement presents of the son of the ex-Major of the Ch'ang An Prefecture. The Chang family, on the other hand, were afraid that if they withdrew from the match, the Major would not give up his claim, and they therefore replied that she was already promised to another. But, who would have thought it, this Mr. Li was seriously bent upon marrying the young lady. But while the Chang family were at a loss what plan to devise, and both parties were in a dilemma, the family of the Major came unexpectedly to hear of the news; and without even looking thoroughly into the matter, they there and then had recourse to insult and abuse. 'Is a girl,' they insinuated, 'to be promised to the sons of several families!' And obstinately refusing to allow the restitution of the betrothal presents, they at once had recourse to litigation and brought an action (against the girl's people.) That family was at their wits' end, and had no alternative but to find some one to go to the capital to obtain means of assistance; and, losing all patience, they insisted upon the return of the presents. I believe that the present commander of the troops at Ch'ang An, Mr. Yün, is on friendly terms with your honourable family, and could one solicit madame Wang to put in a word with Mr. Chia Cheng to send a letter and ask Mr. Yün to speak to that Major, I have no fear that he will not agree. Should (your ladyship) be willing to take action, the Chang family are even ready to present all they have, though it may entail the ruin of their estate." "This affair is, it's true, of no great moment," lady Feng replied smiling, after hearing this appeal; "but the only thing is that madame Wang does no longer attend to matters of this nature." "If madame doesn't heed them," suggested the old nun, "you, my lady, can safely assume the direction." "I'm neither in need of any money to spend," added lady Feng with a smirk, "nor do I undertake such matters!" These words did not escape Ching Hsü's ear; they scattered to the winds her vain hopes. After a minute or so she heaved a sigh. "What you say may be true enough," she remarked; "but the Chang family are also aware that I mean to come and make my appeal to your mansion; and were you now not to manage this affair, the Chang family having no idea that the lack of time prevents any steps being taken and that no importance is attached to their presents, it will appear, on the contrary, as if there were not even this little particle of skill in your household." At these words lady Feng felt at once inspirited. "You've known of old," she added, "that I've never had any faith in anything concerning retribution in the Court of Judgment in the unseen or in hell; and that whatever I say that I shall do, that I do; tell them therefore to bring three thousand taels; and I shall then remedy this grievance of theirs." The old nun upon hearing this remark was so exceedingly delighted, that she precipitately exclaimed, "They've got it, they've got it! there will be no difficulty about it." "I'm not," lady Feng went on to add, "like those people, who afford help and render assistance with an eye to money; these three thousand taels will be exclusively devoted for the travelling expenses of those youths, who will be sent to deliver messages and for them to make a few cash for their trouble; but as for me I don't want even so much as a cash. In fact I'm able at this very moment to produce as much as thirty thousand taels." The old nun assented with alacrity, and said by way of reply, "If that be so, my lady, do display your charitable bounty at once to-morrow and bring things to an end." "Just see," remarked lady Feng, "how hard pressed I am; which place can do without me? but since I've given you my word, I shall, needless to say, speedily bring the matter to a close." "A small trifle like this," hinted the old nun, "would, if placed in the hands of any one else, flurry her to such an extent that she would be quite at a loss what to do; but in your hands, my lady, even if much more were superadded, it wouldn't require as much exertion as a wave of your hand. But the proverb well says: 'that those who are able have much to do;' for madame Wang, seeing that your ladyship manages all concerns, whether large or small, properly, has still more shoved the burden of everything on your shoulders, my lady; but you should, it's but right, also take good care of your precious health." This string of flattery pleased lady Feng more and more, so that heedless of fatigue she went on to chat with still greater zest. But, thing unthought of, Ch'in Chung availed himself of the darkness, as well as of the absence of any one about, to come in quest of Chih Neng. As soon as he reached the room at the back, he espied Chih Neng all alone inside washing the tea cups; and Ch'in Chung forthwith seized her in his arms and implanted kisses on her cheek. Chih Neng got in a dreadful state, and stamping her feet, cried, "What are you up to?" and she was just on the point of shouting out, when Ch'in Chung rejoined: "My dear girl! I'm nearly dead from impatience, and if you don't again to-day accept my advances, I shall this very moment die on this spot." "What you're bent upon," added Chih Neng, "can't be effected; not unless you wait until I've left this den and parted company from these people, when it will be safe enough." "This is of course easy enough!" remonstrated Ch'in Chung; "but the distant water cannot extinguish the close fire!" As he spoke, with one puff, he put out the light, plunging the whole room in pitch darkness; and seizing Chih Neng, he pushed her on to the stove-couch and started a violent love affair. Chih Neng could not, though she strained every nerve, escape his importunities; nor could she very well shout, so that she felt compelled to humour him; but while he was in the midst of his ecstatic joy, they perceived a person walk in, who pressed both of them down, without uttering even so much as a sound, and plunged them both in such a fright that their very souls flew away and their spirits wandered from their bodies; and it was after the third party had burst out laughing with a spurting sound that they eventually became aware that it was Pao-yü; when, springing to his feet impetuously, Ch'in Chung exclaimed full of resentment, "What's this that you're up to!" "If you get your monkey up," retorted Pao-yü, "why, then let you and I start bawling out;" which so abashed Chih Neng that she availed herself of the gloomy light to make her escape; while Pao-yü had dragged Ch'in Chung out of the room and asked, "Now then, do you still want to play the bully!" "My dear fellow," pleaded Ch'in Chung smilingly, "whatever you do don't shout out and let every one know; and all you want, I'll agree to." "We needn't argue just now," Pao-yü observed with a grin; "wait a while, and when all have gone to sleep, we can minutely settle accounts together." Soon it was time to ease their clothes, and go to bed; and lady Feng occupied the inner room; Ch'in Chung and Pao-yü the outer; while the whole ground was covered with matrons of the household, who had spread their bedding, and sat watching. As lady Feng entertained fears that the jade of Spiritual Perception might be lost, she waited until Pao-yü fell asleep, when having directed a servant to bring it to her, she placed it under the side of her own pillow. What accounts Pao-yü settled with Ch'in Chung cannot be ascertained; and as in the absence of any positive proof what is known is based upon surmises, we shall not venture to place it on record. Nothing worth noticing occurred the whole night; but the next day, as soon as the morning dawned, dowager lady Chia and madame Wang promptly despatched servants to come and see how Pao-yü was getting on; and to tell him likewise to put on two pieces of extra clothing, and that if there was nothing to be done it would be better for him to go back. But was it likely that Pao-yü would be willing to go back? Besides Ch'in Chung, in his inordinate passion for Chih Neng, instigated Pao-yü to entreat lady Feng to remain another day. Lady Feng pondered in her own mind that, although the most important matters connected with the funeral ceremonies had been settled satisfactorily, there were still a few minor details, for which no provision had been made, so that could she avail herself of this excuse to remain another day would she not win from Chia Chen a greater degree of approbation, in the second place, would she not be able further to bring Ch'ing Hsü's business to an issue, and, in the third place, to humour Pao-yü's wish? In view of these three advantages, which would accrue, "All that I had to do, I have done," she readily signified to Pao-yü, "and if you be bent upon running about in here, you'll unavoidably place me in still greater trouble; so that we must for certain start homewards to-morrow." "My dear cousin, my own dear cousin," urgently entreated Pao-yü, when he heard these words, "let's stay only this one day, and to-morrow we can go back without fail." They actually spent another night there, and lady Feng availed herself of their stay to give directions that the case which had been entrusted to her the previous day by the old nun should be secretly communicated to Lai Wang Erh. Lai Wang's mind grasped the import of all that was said to him, and, having entered the city with all despatch, he went in search of the gentleman, who acted as secretary (in Mr. Yün's office), pretending that he had been directed by Mr. Chia Lien to come and ask him to write a letter and to send it that very night to the Ch'ang An magistrate. The distance amounted to no more than one hundred li, so that in the space of two days everything was brought to a satisfactory settlement. The general, whose name was Yün Kuang, had been for a long time under obligations to the Chia family, so that he naturally could not refuse his co-operation in such small trifles. When he had handed his reply, Wang Erh started on his way back; where we shall leave him and return to lady Feng. Having spent another day, she on the morrow took leave of the old nun, whom she advised to come to the mansion after the expiry of three days to fetch a reply. Ch'in Chung and Chih Neng could not, by any means, brook the separation, and they secretly agreed to a clandestine assignation; but to these details we need not allude with any minuteness; sufficient to say that they had no alternative but to bear the anguish and to part. Lady Feng crossed over again to the temple of the Iron Fence and ascertained how things were progressing. But as Pao Chu was obstinate in her refusal to return home, Chia Chen found himself under the necessity of selecting a few servants to act as her companions. But the reader must listen to what is said in the next chapter by way of explanation. CHAPTER XVI. Chia Yuan-ch'un is, on account of her talents, selected to enter the Feng Ts'ao Palace. Ch'in Ching-ch'ing departs, in the prime of life, by the yellow spring road. But we must now return to the two lads, Ch'in Chung and Pao-yü. After they had passed, along with lady Feng from the Temple of the Iron Fence, whither she had gone to see how things were getting on, they entered the city in their carriages. On their arrival at home, they paid their obeisance to dowager lady Chia, madame Wang and the other members of the family, whence they returned to their own quarters, where nothing worth mentioning transpired during the night. On the next day, Pao-yü perceiving that the repairs to the outer schoolroom had been completed, settled with Ch'in Chung that they should have evening classes. But as it happened that Ch'in Chung, who was naturally of an extremely delicate physique, caught somewhat of a chill in the country and clandestinely indulged, besides, in an intimacy with Chih Neng, which unavoidably made him fail to take good care of himself, he was, shortly after his return, troubled with a cough and a feverish cold, with nausea for drink and food, and fell into such an extremely poor state of health that he simply kept indoors and nursed himself, and was not in a fit condition to go to school. Pao-yü's spirits were readily damped, but as there was likewise no remedy he had no other course than to wait until his complete recovery, before he could make any arrangements. Lady Feng had meanwhile received a reply from Yün Kuang, in which he informed her that everything had been satisfactorily settled, and the old nun apprised the Chang family that the major had actually suppressed his indignation, hushed his complaints, and taken back the presents of the previous engagement. But who would have ever anticipated that a father and mother, whose hearts were set upon position and their ambition upon wealth, could have brought up a daughter so conscious of propriety and so full of feeling as to seize the first opportunity, after she had heard that she had been withdrawn from her former intended, and been promised to the Li family, to stealthily devise a way to commit suicide, by means of a handkerchief. The son of the Major, upon learning that Chin Ko had strangled herself, there and then jumped into the river and drowned himself, as he too was a being full of love. The Chang and Li families were, sad to relate, very much cut up, and, in very truth, two lives and money had been sacrificed all to no use. Lady Feng, however, during this while, quietly enjoyed the three thousand taels, and madame Wang did not have even so much as the faintest idea of the whole matter. But ever since this occasion, lady Feng's audacity acquired more and more strength; and the actions of this kind, which she, in after days, performed, defy enumeration. One day, the very day on which Chia Cheng's birthday fell, while the members of the two households of Ning and Jung were assembled together offering their congratulations, and unusual bustle and stir prevailed, a gatekeeper came in, at quite an unexpected moment, to announce that Mr. Hsia, Metropolitan Head Eunuch of the six palaces, had come with the special purpose of presenting an edict from his Majesty; a bit of news which plunged Chia She, Chia Cheng and the whole company into great consternation, as they could not make out what was up. Speedily interrupting the theatrical performance, they had the banquet cleared, and the altar laid out with incense, and opening the centre gate they fell on their knees to receive the edict. Soon they caught sight of the head eunuch, Hsia Ping-chung, advancing on horseback, and besides himself, a considerable retinue of eunuchs. The eunuch Hsia did not, in fact, carry any mandate or present any decree; but straightway advancing as far as the main hall, he dismounted, and, with a face beaming with smiles, he walked into the Hall and took his stand on the southern side. "I have had the honour," he said, "of receiving a special order to at once summon Chia Cheng to present himself at Court and be admitted in His Majesty's presence in the Lin Ching Hall." When he had delivered this message, he did not so much as take any tea, but forthwith mounted his horse and took his leave. Chia Cheng and the others could not even conceive what omen this summons implied, but he had no alternative but to change his clothes with all haste and to present himself at Court, while dowager lady Chia and the inmates of the whole household were, in their hearts, a prey to such perplexity and uncertainty that they incessantly despatched messengers on flying steeds to go and bring the news. After the expiry of four hours, they suddenly perceived Lai Ta and three or four other butlers run in, quite out of breath, through the ceremonial gate and report the glad tidings. "We have received," they added, "our master's commands, to hurriedly request her venerable ladyship to take madame Wang and the other ladies into the Palace, to return thanks for His Majesty's bounty;" and other words to the same purport. Dowager lady Chia was, at this time, standing, with agitated heart, under the verandah of the Large Hall waiting for tidings, whilst the two ladies, mesdames Hsing and Wang, Mrs. Yu, Li Wan, lady Feng, Ying Ch'un and her sisters, even up to Mrs. Hsüeh and the rest, were congregated in one place ascertaining what was the news. Old lady Chia likewise called Lai Ta in and minutely questioned him as to what had happened. "Your servants," replied Lai Ta, "simply stood waiting outside the Lin Chuang gate, so that we were in total ignorance of what was going on inside, when presently the Eunuch Hsia came out and imparted to us the glad tidings; telling us that the eldest of the young ladies in our household had been raised, by His Majesty, to be an overseer in the Feng Ts'ao Palace, and that he had, in addition, conferred upon her the rank of worthy and virtuous secondary consort. By and by, Mr. Chia Cheng came out and also told us the same thing. Master is now gone back again to the Eastern Palace, whither he requests your venerable ladyship to go at once and offer thanks for the Imperial favour." When old lady Chia and the other members of the family heard these tidings they were at length reassured in their minds, and so elated were they all in one moment that joy was visible in their very faces. Without loss of time, they commenced to don the gala dresses suitable to their rank; which done, old lady Chia led the way for the two ladies, mesdames Hsing and Wang, as well as for Mrs. Yu; and their official chairs, four of them in all, entered the palace like a trail of fish; while Chia She and Chia Chen, who had likewise changed their clothes for their court dress, took Chia Se and Chia Jung along and proceeded in attendance upon dowager lady Chia. Indeed, of the two households of Ning and Jung, there was not one, whether high or low, woman or man, who was not in a high state of exultation, with the exception of Pao-yü, who behaved just as if the news had not reached his ears; and can you, reader, guess why? The fact is that Chih Neng, of the Water Moon Convent, had recently entered the city in a surreptitious manner in search of Ch'in Chung; but, contrary to expectation, her visit came to be known by Ch'in Yeh, who drove Chih Neng away and laid hold of Ch'in Chung and gave him a flogging. But this outburst of temper of his brought about a relapse of his old complaint, with the result that in three or five days, he, sad to say, succumbed. Ch'in Chung had himself ever been in a delicate state of health and had besides received a caning before he had got over his sickness, so that when he now saw his aged father pass away from the consequences of a fit of anger, he felt, at this stage, so full of penitence and distress that the symptoms of his illness were again considerably aggravated. Hence it was that Pao-yü was downcast and unhappy at heart, and that nothing could, in spite of the promotion of Yuan Ch'un by imperial favour, dispel the depression of his spirits. Dowager lady Chia and the rest in due course offered thanks and returned home, the relatives and friends came to present their congratulations, great stir and excitement prevailed during these few days in the two mansions of Ning and Jung, and every one was in high glee; but he alone looked upon everything as if it were nothing; taking not the least interest in anything; and as this reason led the whole family to sneer at him, the result was that he got more and more doltish. Luckily, however, Chia Lien and Tai-yü were on their way back, and had despatched messengers, in advance, to announce the news that they would be able to reach home the following day, so that when Pao-yü heard the tidings, he was at length somewhat cheered. And when he came to institute minute inquiries, he eventually found out: "that Chia Yü-ts'un was also coming to the capital to have an audience with His Majesty, that it was entirely because Wang Tzu-t'eng had repeatedly laid before the Throne memorials recommending him that he was coming on this occasion to wait in the metropolis for a vacancy which he could fill up; that as he was a kinsman of Chia Lien's, acknowledging the same ancestors as he did, and he stood, on the other hand, with Tai-yü, in the relationship of tutor and pupil, he was in consequence following the same road and coming as their companion; that Lin Ju-hai had already been buried in the ancestral vault, and that every requirement had been attended to with propriety; that Chia Lien, on this voyage to the capital, would, had he progressed by the ordinary stages, have been over a month before he could reach home, but that when he came to hear the good news about Yuan Ch'un, he pressed on day and night to enter the capital; and that the whole journey had been throughout, in every respect, both pleasant and propitious." But Pao-yü merely ascertained whether Tai-yü was all right, and did not even so much as trouble his mind with the rest of what he heard; and he remained on the tiptoe of expectation, till noon of the morrow; when, in point of fact, it was announced that Mr. Lien, together with Miss Lin, had made their entrance into the mansion. When they came face to face, grief and joy vied with each other; and they could not help having a good cry for a while; after which followed again expressions of sympathy and congratulations; while Pao-yü pondered within himself that Tai-yü had become still more surpassingly handsome. Tai-yü had also brought along with her a good number of books, and she promptly gave orders that the sleeping rooms should be swept, and that the various nicknacks should be put in their proper places. She further produced a certain quantity of paper, pencils and other such things, and distributed them among Pao Ch'ai, Ying Ch'un, Pao-yü and the rest; and Pao-yü also brought out, with extreme care, the string of Ling-ling scented beads, which had been given to him by the Prince of Pei Ching, and handed them, in his turn, to Tai-yü as a present. "What foul man has taken hold of them?" exclaimed Tai-yü. "I don't want any such things;" and as she forthwith dashed them down, and would not accept them, Pao-yü was under the necessity of taking them back. But for the time being we will not allude to them, but devote our attention to Chia Lien. Having, after his arrival home, paid his salutations to all the inmates, he retired to his own quarters at the very moment that lady Feng had multifarious duties to attend to, and had not even a minute to spare; but, considering that Chia Lien had returned from a distant journey, she could not do otherwise than put by what she had to do, and to greet him and wait on him. "Imperial uncle," she said, in a jocose manner, when she realised that there was no outsider present in the room, "I congratulate you! What fatigue and hardship you, Imperial uncle, have had to bear throughout the whole journey, your humble servant heard yesterday, when the courier sent ahead came and announced that Your Highness would this day reach this mansion. I have merely got ready a glass of mean wine for you to wipe down the dust with, but I wonder, whether Your Highness will deign to bestow upon it the lustre of your countenance, and accept it." Chia Lien smiled. "How dare I presume to such an honour," he added by way of rejoinder; "I'm unworthy of such attention! Many thanks, many thanks." P'ing Erh and the whole company of waiting-maids simultaneously paid their obeisance to him, and this ceremony concluded, they presented tea. Chia Lien thereupon made inquiries about the various matters, which had transpired in their home after his departure, and went on to thank lady Feng for all the trouble she had taken in the management of them. "How could I control all these manifold matters," remarked lady Feng; "my experience is so shallow, my speech so dull and my mind so simple, that if any one showed me a club, I would mistake it for a pin. Besides, I'm so tender-hearted that were any one to utter a couple of glib remarks, I couldn't help feeling my heart give way to compassion and sympathy. I've had, in addition, no experience in any weighty questions; my pluck is likewise so very small that when madame Wang has felt in the least displeased, I have not been able to close my eyes and sleep. Urgently did I more than once resign the charge, but her ladyship wouldn't again agree to it; maintaining, on the contrary, that my object was to be at ease, and that I was not willing to reap experience. Leaving aside that she doesn't know that I take things so much to heart, that I can scoop the perspiration in handfuls, that I daren't utter one word more than is proper, nor venture to recklessly take one step more than I ought to, you know very well which of the women servants, in charge of the menage in our household, is easy to manage! If ever I make the slightest mistake, they laugh at me and poke fun at me; and if I incline a little one way, they show their displeasure by innuendoes; they sit by and look on, they use every means to do harm, they stir up trouble, they stand by on safe ground and look on and don't give a helping hand to lift any one they have thrown over, and they are, one and all of them, old hands in such tricks. I'm moreover young in years and not able to keep people in check, so that they naturally don't show any regard for me! What is still more ridiculous is that after the death of Jung Erh's wife in that mansion, brother Chen, time and again, begged madame Wang, on his very knees, to do him the favour to ask me to lend him a hand for several days. I repeatedly signified my refusal, but her ladyship gave her consent in order to oblige him, so that I had no help but to carry out her wish; putting, as is my wont, everything topsy-turvey, and making matters worse than they were; with the result that brother Chen up to this day bears me a grudge and regrets having asked for my assistance. When you see him to-morrow, do what you can to excuse me by him. 'Young as she is,' tell him, 'and without experience of the world, who ever could have instigated Mr. Chia Cheng to make such a mistake as to choose her.'" While they were still chatting, they heard people talking in the outer apartments, and lady Feng speedily inquired who it was. P'ing Erh entered the room to reply. "Lady Hsüeh," she said, "has sent sister Hsiang Ling over to ask me something; but I've already given her my answer and sent her back." "Quite so," interposed Chia Lien with a smile. "A short while ago I went to look up Mrs. Hsüeh and came face to face with a young girl, whose features were supremely perfect, and as I suspected that, in our household, there was no such person, I asked in the course of conversation, Mrs. Hsüeh about her, and found out eventually that this was the young waiting-maid they had purchased on their way to the capital, Hsiang Ling by name, and that she had after all become an inmate of the household of that big fool Hsüeh. Since she's had her hair dressed as a married woman she does look so much more pre-eminently beautiful! But that big fool Hsüeh has really brought contamination upon her." "Ai!" exclaimed lady Feng, "here you are back from a trip to Suchow and Hang Chow, where you should have seen something of the world! and have you still an eye as envious and a heart so covetous? Well, if you wish to bestow your love on her, there's no difficulty worth speaking of. I'll take P'ing Erh over and exchange her for her; what do you say to that? that old brother Hsüeh is also one of those men, who, while eating what there is in the bowl, keeps an eye on what there is in the pan! For the last year or so, as he couldn't get Hsiang Ling to be his, he made ever so many distressing appeals to Mrs. Hsüeh; and Mrs. Hsüeh while esteeming Hsiang Ling's looks, though fine, as after all a small matter, (thought) her deportment and conduct so far unlike those of other girls, so gentle and so demure that almost the very daughters of masters and mistresses couldn't attain her standard, that she therefore went to the trouble of spreading a banquet, and of inviting guests, and in open court, and in the legitimate course, she gave her to him for a secondary wife. But half a month had scarcely elapsed before he looked upon her also as a good-for-nothing person as he did upon a large number of them! I can't however help feeling pity for her in my heart." Scarcely had she time to conclude what she had to say when a youth, on duty at the second gate, transmitted the announcement that Mr. Chia Cheng was in the Library waiting for Mr. Secundus. At these words, Chia Lien speedily adjusted his clothes, and left the apartment; and during his absence, lady Feng inquired of P'ing Erh what Mrs. Hsüeh wanted a few minutes back, that she sent Hsiang Ling round in such a hurry. "What Hsiang Ling ever came?" replied P'ing Erh. "I simply made use of her name to tell a lie for the occasion. Tell me, my lady, (what's come to) Wang Erh's wife? why she's got so bad that there's even no common sense left in her!" Saying this she again drew near lady Feng's side, and in a soft tone of voice, she continued: "That interest of yours, my lady, she doesn't send later, nor does she send it sooner; but she must send it round the very moment when master Secundus is at home! But as luck would have it, I was in the hall, so that I came across her; otherwise, she would have walked in and told your ladyship, and Mr. Secundus would naturally have come to know about it! And our master would, with that frame of mind of his, have fished it out and spent it, had the money even been at the bottom of a pan full of oil! and were he to have heard that my lady had private means, would he not have been still more reckless in spending? Hence it was that, losing no time in taking the money over, I had to tell her a few words which, who would have thought, happened to be overheard by your ladyship; that's why, in the presence of master Secundus, I simply explained that Hsiang Ling had come!" These words evoked a smile from lady Feng. "Mrs. Hsueh, I thought to myself," she observed, "knows very well that your Mr. Secundus has come, and yet, regardless of propriety, she, instead (of keeping her at home), sends some one over from her inner rooms! and it was you after all, you vixen, playing these pranks!" As she uttered this remark, Chia Lien walked in, and lady Feng issued orders to serve the wine and the eatables, and husband and wife took their seats opposite to each other; but notwithstanding that lady Feng was very partial to drink, she nevertheless did not have the courage to indulge her weakness, but merely partook of some to keep him company. Chia Lien's nurse, dame Chao, entered the room, and Chia Lien and lady Feng promptly pressed her to have a glass of wine, and bade her sit on the stove-couch, but dame Chao was obstinate in her refusal. P'ing Erh and the other waiting-maids had at an early hour placed a square stool next to the edge of the couch, where was likewise a small footstool, and on this footstool dame Chao took a seat, whereupon Chia Lien chose two dishes of delicacies from the table, which he handed her to place on the square stool for her own use. "Dame Chao," lady Feng remarked, "couldn't very well bite through that, for mind it might make her teeth drop! This morning," she therefore asked of P'ing Erh, "I suggested that that shoulder of pork stewed with ham was so tender as to be quite the thing to be given to dame Chao to eat; and how is it you haven't taken it over to her? But go at once and tell them to warm it and bring it in! Dame Chao," she went on, "just you taste this Hui Ch'üan wine brought by your foster-son." "I'll drink it," replied dame Chao, "but you, my lady, must also have a cup: what's there to fear? the one thing to guard against is any excess, that's all! But I've now come over, not for any wine or eatables; on the contrary, there's a serious matter, which I would ask your ladyship to impress on your mind, and to show me some regard, for this master of ours is only good to utter fine words, but when the time (to act) does come, he forgets all about us! As I have had the good fortune to nurse him in his infancy and to bring him up to this age, 'I too have grown old in years,' I said to him, 'and all that belong to me are those two sons, and do look upon them with some particular favour!' With any one else I shouldn't have ventured to open my mouth, but him I anyway entreated time and again on several occasions. His assent was of course well and good, but up to this very moment he still withholds his help. Now besides from the heavens has dropped such a mighty piece of good luck; and in what place will there be no need of servants? that's why I come to tell you, my lady, as is but right, for were I to depend upon our master, I fear I shall even die of starvation." Lady Feng laughed. "You'd better," she suggested, "put those two elder foster brothers of his both under my charge! But you've nursed that foster-son from his babyhood, and don't you yet know that disposition of his, how that he takes his skin and flesh and sticks it, (not on the body of a relative), but, on the contrary, on that of an outsider and stranger? (to Chia Lien.) Which of those foster brothers whom you have now discarded, isn't clearly better than others? and were you to have shown them some favour and consideration, who would have ventured to have said 'don't?' Instead of that, you confer benefits upon thorough strangers, and all to no purpose whatever! But these words of mine are also incorrect, eh? for those whom we regard as strangers you, contrariwise, will treat just as if they were relatives!" At these words every one present in the room burst out laughing; even nurse Chao could not repress herself; and as she invoked Buddha,--"In very truth," she exclaimed, "in this room has sprung up a kind-hearted person! as regards relatives and strangers, such foolish distinctions aren't drawn by our master; and it's simply because he's full of pity and is tenderhearted that he can't put off any one who gives vent to a few words of entreaty, and nothing else!" "That's quite it!" rejoined lady Feng smiling sarcastically, "to those whom he looks upon as relatives, he's kindhearted, but with me and his mother he's as hard as steel." "What you say, my lady, is very considerate," remarked nurse Chao, "and I'm really so full of delight that I'll have another glass of good wine! and, if from this time forward, your ladyship will act as you think best, I'll have then nothing to be sorry for!" Chia Lien did not at this juncture feel quite at his ease, but he could do no more than feign a smile. "You people," he said, "should leave off talking nonsense, and bring the eatables at once and let us have our meal, as I have still to go on the other side and see Mr. Chia Chen, to consult with him about business." "To be sure you have," ventured lady Feng, "and you shouldn't neglect your legitimate affairs; but what did Mr. Chia Chen tell you when he sent for you just a while back?" "It was about the visit (of Yuan Ch'un) to her parents," Chia Lien explained. "Has after all permission for the visit been granted?" lady Feng inquired with alacrity. "Though not quite granted," Chia Lien replied joyously, "it's nevertheless more or less an accomplished fact." "This is indeed evidence of the great bounty of the present Emperor!" lady Feng observed smirkingly; "one doesn't hear in books, or see in plays, written from time to time, any mention of such an instance, even so far back as the days of old!" Dame Chao took up again the thread of the conversation. "Indeed it's so!" she interposed; "But I'm in very truth quite stupid from old age, for I've heard every one, high and low, clamouring during these few days, something or other about 'Hsing Ch'in' or no 'Hsing Ch'in,' but I didn't really pay any heed to it; and now again, here's something more about this 'Hsing Ch'in,' but what's it all about, I wonder?" "The Emperor at present on the Throne," explained Chia Lien, "takes into consideration the feelings of his people. In the whole world, there is (in his opinion), no more essential thing than filial piety; maintaining that the feelings of father, mother, son and daughter are indiscriminately subject to one principle, without any distinction between honorable and mean. The present Emperor himself day and night waits upon their majesties his Father and the Empress Dowager, and yet cannot, in the least degree, carry out to the full his ideal of filial piety. The secondary consorts, meritorious persons and other inmates of the Palace, he remembered, had entered within its precincts many years back, casting aside fathers and mothers, so how could they not help thinking of them? Besides, the fathers and mothers, who remain at home must long for their daughters, of whom they cannot get even so much as a glimpse, and if, through this solicitude, they were to contract any illness, the harmony of heaven would also be seriously impaired, so for this reason, he memorialised the Emperor, his father, and the Empress Dowager that every month, on the recurrence of the second and sixth days, permission should be accorded to the relatives of the imperial consorts to enter the palace and make application to see their daughters. The Emperor, his father, and Empress Dowager were, forthwith, much delighted by this representation, and eulogised, in high terms, the piety and generosity of the present Emperor, his regard for the will of heaven and his research into the nature of things. Both their sacred Majesties consequently also issued a decree to the effect: that the entrance of the relatives of the imperial consorts into the Palace could not but interfere with the dignity of the state, and the rules of conventional rites, but that as the mothers and daughters could not gratify the wishes of their hearts, Their Majesties would, after all, show a high proof of expedient grace, and issue a special command that: 'exclusive of the generous bounty, by virtue of which the worthy relations of the imperial consorts could enter the palace on the second and sixth days, any family, having extensive accommodation and separate courts suitable for the cantonment of the imperial body-guard, could, without any detriment, make application to the Inner Palace, for the entrance of the imperial chair into the private residences, to the end that the personal feelings of relations might be gratified, and that they should collectively enjoy the bliss of a family reunion.' After the issue of this decree, who did not leap from grateful joy! The father of the honourable secondary consort Chou has now already initiated works, in his residence, for the repairs to the separate courts necessary for the visiting party. Wu T'ien-yu too, the father of Wu, the distinguished consort, has likewise gone outside the city walls in search of a suitable plot of ground; and don't these amount to well-nigh accomplished facts?" "O-mi-to-fu!" exclaimed dame Chao. "Is it really so? but from what you say, our family will also be making preparations for the reception of the eldest young lady!" "That goes without saying," added Chia Lien, "otherwise, for what purpose could we be in such a stir just now?" "It's of course so!" interposed lady Feng smiling, "and I shall now have an opportunity of seeing something great of the world. My misfortune is that I'm young by several years; for had I been born twenty or thirty years sooner, all these old people wouldn't really be now treating me contemptuously for not having seen the world! To begin with, the Emperor Tai Tsu, in years gone by, imitated the old policy of Shun, and went on a tour, giving rise to more stir than any book could have ever produced; but I happen to be devoid of that good fortune which could have enabled me to come in time." "Ai ya, ya!" ejaculated dame Chao, "such a thing is rarely met with in a thousand years! I was old enough at that time to remember the occurrence! Our Chia family was then at Ku Su, Yangchow and all along that line, superintending the construction of ocean vessels, and the repairs to the seaboard. This was the only time in which preparations were made for the reception of the Emperor, and money was lavished in quantities as great as the billowing waters of the sea!" This subject once introduced, lady Feng took up the thread of the conversation with vehemence. "Our Wang family," she said, "did also make preparations on one occasion. At that time my grandfather was in sole charge of all matters connected with tribute from various states, as well as with general levées, so that whenever any foreigners arrived, they all came to our house to be entertained, while the whole of the goods, brought by foreign vessels from the two Kuang provinces, from Fukien, Yunnan and Chekiang, were the property of our family." "Who isn't aware of these facts?" ventured dame Chao; "there is up to this day a saying that, 'in the eastern sea, there was a white jade bed required, and the dragon prince came to request Mr. Wang of Chin Ling (to give it to him)!' This saying relates to your family, my lady, and remains even now in vogue. The Chen family of Chiang Nan has recently held, oh such a fine old standing! it alone has entertained the Emperor on four occasions! Had we not seen these things with our own eyes, were we to tell no matter whom, they wouldn't surely ever believe them! Not to speak of the money, which was as plentiful as mud, all things, whether they were to be found in the world or not, were they not heaped up like hills, and collected like the waters of the sea? But with the four characters representing sin and pity they didn't however trouble their minds." "I've often heard," continued lady Feng, "my eldest uncle say that things were in such a state, and how couldn't I believe? but what surprises me is how it ever happened that this family attained such opulence and honour!" "I'll tell your ladyship and all in one sentence," replied nurse Chao. "Why they simply took the Emperor's money and spent it for the Emperor's person, that's all! for what family has such a lot of money as to indulge in this useless extravagance?" While they were engaged in this conversation, a servant came a second time, at the instance of madame Wang, to see whether lady Feng had finished her meal or not; and lady Feng forthwith concluding that there must be something waiting for her to attend to, hurriedly rushed through her repast. She had just rinsed her mouth and was about to start when the youths, on duty at the second gate, also reported that the two gentlemen, Mr. Chia Jung and Mr. Chia Se, belonging to the Eastern mansion, had arrived. Chia Lien had, at length, rinsed his mouth; but while P'ing Erh presented a basin for him to wash his hands, he perceived the two young men walk in, and readily inquired of them what they had to say. Lady Feng was, on account (of their arrival), likewise compelled to stay, and she heard Chia Jung take the lead and observe: "My father has sent me to tell you, uncle, that the gentlemen, have already decided that the whole extent of ground, starting from the East side, borrowing (for the occasion) the flower garden of the Eastern mansion, straight up to the North West, had been measured and found to amount in all to three and a half li; that it will be suitable for the erection of extra accommodation for the visiting party; that they have already commissioned an architect to draw a plan, which will be ready by to-morrow; that as you, uncle, have just returned home, and must unavoidably feel fatigued, you need not go over to our house, but that if you have anything to say you should please come tomorrow morning, as early as you can, and consult verbally with him." "Thank uncle warmly," Chia Lien rejoined smilingly, "for the trouble he has taken in thinking of me; I shall, in that case, comply with his wishes and not go over. This plan is certainly the proper one, for while trouble will thus be saved, the erection of the quarters will likewise be an easy matter; for had a distinct plot to be selected and to be purchased, it would involve far greater difficulties. What's more, things wouldn't, after all, be what they properly should be. When you get back, tell your father that this decision is the right one, and that should the gentlemen have any further wish to introduce any change in their proposals, it will rest entirely with my uncle to prevent them, as it's on no account advisable to go and cast one's choice on some other plot; that to-morrow as soon as it's daylight, I'll come and pay my respects to uncle, when we can enter into further details in our deliberations!" Chia Jung hastily signified his assent by several yes's, and Chia Se also came forward to deliver his message. "The mission to Ku Su," he explained, "to find tutors, to purchase servant girls, and to obtain musical instruments, and theatrical properties and the like, my uncle has confided to me; and as I'm to take along with me the two sons of a couple of majordomos, and two companions of the family, besides, Tan P'ing-jen and Pei Ku-hsiu, he has, for this reason, enjoined me to come and see you, uncle." Upon hearing this, Chia Lien scrutinised Chia Se. "What!" he asked, "are you able to undertake these commissions? These matters are, it's true, of no great moment; but there's something more hidden in them!" Chia Se smiled. "The best thing I can do," he remarked, "will be to execute them in my novice sort of way, that's all." Chia Jung was standing next to lady Feng, out of the light of the lamp, and stealthily pulled the lapel of her dress. Lady Feng understood the hint, and putting on a smiling expression, "You are too full of fears!" she interposed. "Is it likely that our uncle Chen doesn't, after all, know better than we do what men to employ, that you again give way to apprehensions that he isn't up to the mark! but who are those who are, in every respect, up to the mark? These young fellows have grown up already to this age, and if they haven't eaten any pork, they have nevertheless seen a pig run. If Mr. Chen has deputed him to go, he is simply meant to sit under the general's standard; and do you imagine, forsooth, that he has, in real earnest, told him to go and bargain about the purchase money, and to interview the brokers himself? My own idea is that (the choice) is a very good one." "Of course it is!" observed Chia Lien; "but it isn't that I entertain any wish to be factious; my only object is to devise some plan or other for him. Whence will," he therefore went on to ask, "the money required for this purpose come from?" "A little while ago the deliberations reached this point," rejoined Chia Se; "and Mr. Lai suggested that there was no necessity at all to take any funds from the capital, as the Chen family, in Chiang Nan, had still in their possession Tls. 50,000 of our money. That he would to-morrow write a letter of advice and a draft for us to take along, and that we should, first of all, obtain cash to the amount of Tls. 30,000, and let the balance of Tls. 20,000 remain over, for the purchase of painted lanterns, and coloured candles, as well as for the outlay for every kind of portieres, banners, curtains and streamers." Chia Lien nodded his head. "This plan is first-rate!" he added. "Since that be so," observed lady Feng, as she addressed herself to Chia Se, "I've two able and reliable men; and if you would take them with you, to attend to these matters, won't it be to your convenience?" Chia Se forced a smile. "I was just on the point," he rejoined, "of asking you, aunt, for the loan of two men, so that this suggestion is a strange coincidence." As he went on to ascertain what were their names, lady Feng inquired what they were of nurse Chao. But nurse Chao had, by this time, become quite dazed from listening to the conversation, and P'ing Erh had to give her a push, as she smiled, before she returned to consciousness. "The one," she hastened to reply, "is called Chao T'ien-liang and the other Chao T'ien-tung." "Whatever you do," suggested lady Feng, "don't forget them; but now I'm off to look after my duties." With these words, she left the room, and Chia Jung promptly followed her out, and with gentle voice he said to her: "Of whatever you want, aunt, issue orders that a list be drawn up, and I'll give it to my brother to take with him, and he'll carry out your commissions according to the list." "Don't talk nonsense!" replied lady Feng laughing; "I've found no place, as yet, where I could put away all my own things; and do the stealthy practices of you people take my fancy?" As she uttered these words she straightway went her way. Chia Se, at this time, likewise, asked Chia Lien: "If you want anything (in the way of curtains), I can conveniently have them woven for you, along with the rest, and bring them as a present to you." "Don't be in such high glee!" Chia Lien urged with a grin, "you've but recently been learning how to do business, and have you come first and foremost to excel in tricks of this kind? If I require anything, I'll of course write and tell you, but we needn't talk about it." Having finished speaking, he dismissed the two young men; and, in quick succession, servants came to make their business reports, not limited to three and five companies, but as Chia Lien felt exhausted, he forthwith sent word to those on duty at the second gate not to allow any one at all to communicate any reports, and that the whole crowd should wait till the next day, when he would give his mind to what had to be done. Lady Feng did not come to retire to rest till the third watch; but nothing need be said about the whole night. The next morning, at an early hour, Chia Lien got up and called on Chia She and Chia Cheng; after which, he came over to the Ning Kuo mansion; when, in company with the old major-domos and other servants, as well as with several old family friends and companions, he inspected the grounds of the two mansions, and drew plans of the palatial buildings (for the accommodation of the Imperial consort and her escort) on her visit to her parents; deliberating at the same time, on the subject of the works and workmen. From this day the masons and workmen of every trade were collected to the full number; and the articles of gold, silver, copper, and pewter, as well as the earth, timber, tiles, and bricks, were brought over, and carried in, in incessant supplies. In the first place, orders were issued to the workmen to demolish the wall and towers of the garden of Concentrated Fragrance, and extend a passage to connect in a straight line with the large court in the East of the Jung mansion; for the whole extent of servants' quarters on the Eastern side of the Jung mansion had previously been pulled down. The two residences of Ning and Jung were, in these days, it is true, divided by a small street, which served as a boundary line, and there was no communication between them, but this narrow passage was also private property, and not in any way a government street, so that they could easily be connected, and as in the garden of Concentrated Fragrance, there was already a stream of running water, which had been introduced through the corner of the Northern wall, there was no further need now of going to the trouble of bringing in another. Although the rockeries and trees were not sufficient, the place where Chia She lived, was an old garden of the Jung mansion, so that the bamboos, trees, and rockeries in that compound, as well as the arbours, railings and other such things could all be very well removed to the front; and by these means, these two grounds, situated as they were besides so very near to each other, could, by being thrown into one, conduce to the saving of considerable capital and labour; for, in spite of some deficiency, what had to be supplied did not amount to much. And it devolved entirely upon a certain old Hu, a man of note, styled Shan Tzu-yeh, to deliberate upon one thing after another, and to initiate its construction. Chia Cheng was not up to these ordinary matters, so that it fell to Chia She, Chia Chen, Chia Lien, Lai Ta, Lai Sheng, Lin Chih-hsiao, Wu Hsin-teng, Chan Kuang, Ch'eng Jih-hsing and several others to allot the sites, to set things in order, (and to look after) the heaping up of rockeries, the digging of ponds, the construction of two-storied buildings, the erection of halls, the plantation of bamboos and the cultivation of flowers, everything connected with the improvement of the scenery devolving, on the other hand, upon Shan Tzu-yeh to make provision for, and after leaving Court, he would devote such leisure moments as he had to merely going everywhere to give a look at the most important spots, and to consult with Chia She and the others; after which he troubled his mind no more with anything. And as Chia She did nothing else than stay at home and lie off, whenever any matter turned up, trifling though it may have been as a grain of mustard seed or a bean, Chia Chen and his associates had either to go and report it in person or to write a memorandum of it. Or if he had anything to say, he sent for Chia Lien, Lai Ta and others to come and receive his instructions. Chia Jung had the sole direction of the manufacture of the articles in gold and silver; and as for Chia Se, he had already set out on his journey to Ku Su. Chia Chen, Lai Ta and the rest had also to call out the roll with the names of the workmen, to superintend the works and other duties relative thereto, which could not be recorded by one pen alone; sufficient to say that a great bustle and stir prevailed, but to this subject we shall not refer for a time, but allude to Pao-yü. As of late there were in the household concerns of this magnitude to attend to, Chia Cheng did not come to examine him in his lessons, so that he was, of course, in high spirits, but, as unfortunately Ch'in Chung's complaint became, day by day, more serious, he was at the same time really so very distressed at heart on his account, that enjoyment was for him out of the question. On this day, he got up as soon as it was dawn, and having just combed his hair and washed his face and hands, he was bent upon going to ask dowager lady Chia to allow him to pay a visit to Ch'in Chung, when he suddenly espied Ming Yen peep round the curtain-wall at the second gate, and then withdraw his head. Pao-yü promptly walked out and inquired what he was up to. "Mr. Ch'in Chung," observed Ming Yen, "is not well at all." Pao-yü at these words was quite taken aback. "It was only yesterday," he hastily added, "that I saw him, and he was still bright and cheery; and how is it that he's anything but well now?" "I myself can't explain," replied Ming Yen; "but just a few minutes ago an old man belonging to his family came over with the express purpose of giving me the tidings." Upon hearing this news, Pao-yü there and then turned round and told dowager lady Chia; and the old lady issued directions to depute some trustworthy persons to accompany him. "Let him go," (she said), "and satisfy his feelings towards his fellow-scholar; but as soon as he has done, he must come back; and don't let him tarry too long." Pao-yü with hurried step left the room and came and changed his clothes. But as on his arrival outside, the carriage had not as yet been got ready, he fell into such a state of excitement, that he went round and round all over the hall in quite an erratic manner. In a short while, after pressure had been brought to bear, the carriage arrived, and speedily mounting the vehicle, he drove up to the door of Ch'in Chung's house, followed by Li Kuei, Ming Yen and the other servants. Everything was quiet. Not a soul was about. Like a hive of bees they flocked into the house, to the astonishment of two distant aunts, and of several male cousins of Ch'in Chung, all of whom had no time to effect their retreat. Ch'in Chung had, by this time, had two or three fainting fits, and had already long ago been changed his mat. As soon as Pao-yü realised the situation, he felt unable to repress himself from bursting forth aloud. Li Kuei promptly reasoned with him. "You shouldn't go on in this way," he urged, "you shouldn't. It's because Mr. Ch'in is so weak that lying flat on the stove-couch naturally made his bones feel uncomfortable; and that's why he has temporarily been removed down here to ease him a little. But if you, sir, go on in this way, will you not, instead of doing him any good, aggravate his illness?" At these words, Pao-yü accordingly restrained himself, and held his tongue; and drawing near, he gazed at Ch'in Chung's face, which was as white as wax, while with closed eyes, he gasped for breath, rolling about on his pillow. "Brother Ching," speedily exclaimed Pao-yü, "Pao-yü is here!" But though he shouted out two or three consecutive times, Ch'in Chung did not heed him. "Pao-yü has come!" Pao-yü went on again to cry. But Ch'in Chung's spirit had already departed from his body, leaving behind only a faint breath of superfluous air in his lungs. He had just caught sight of a number of recording devils, holding a warrant and carrying chains, coming to seize him, but Ch'in Chung's soul would on no account go along with them; and remembering how that there was in his home no one to assume the direction of domestic affairs, and feeling concerned that Chih Neng had as yet no home, he consequently used hundreds of arguments in his entreaties to the recording devils; but alas! these devils would, none of them, show him any favour. On the contrary, they heaped invectives upon Ch'in Chung. "You're fortunate enough to be a man of letters," they insinuated, "and don't you know the common saying that: 'if the Prince of Hell call upon you to die at the third watch, who can presume to retain you, a human being, up to the fifth watch?' In our abode, in the unseen, high as well as low, have all alike a face made of iron, and heed not selfish motives; unlike the mortal world, where favouritism and partiality prevail. There exist therefore many difficulties in the way (to our yielding to your wishes)." While this fuss was going on, Ch'in Chung's spirit suddenly grasped the four words, "Pao-yü has come," and without loss of time, it went on again to make further urgent appeals. "Gentlemen, spiritual deputies," it exclaimed; "show me a little mercy and allow me to return to make just one remark to an intimate friend of mine, and I'll be back again." "What intimate friend is this again?" the devils observed with one voice. "I'm not deceiving you, gentlemen," rejoined Ch'in Chung; "it's the grandson of the duke of Jung Kuo, whose infant name is Pao-yü." The Decider of life was, at first, upon hearing these words, so seized with dismay that he vehemently abused the devils sent on the errand. "I told you," he shouted, "to let him go back for a turn; but you would by no means comply with my words! and now do you wait until he has summoned a man of glorious fortune and prosperous standing to at last desist?" When the company of devils perceived the manner of the Decider of life, they were all likewise so seized with consternation that they bustled with hand and feet; while with hearts also full of resentment: "You, sir," they replied, "were at one time such a terror, formidable as lightning; and are you not forsooth able to listen with equanimity to the two sounds of 'Pao-yü?' our humble idea is that mortal as he is, and immortal as we are, it wouldn't be to our credit if we feared him!" But whether Ch'in Chung, after all, died or survived, the next chapter will explain. CHAPTER XVII. In the Ta Kuan Garden, (Broad Vista,) the merits of Pao-yü are put to the test, by his being told to write devices for scrolls and tablets. Yuan Ch'un returns to the Jung Kuo mansion, on a visit to her parents, and offers her congratulations to them on the feast of lanterns, on the fifteenth of the first moon. Ch'in Chung, to resume our story, departed this life, and Pao-yü went on so unceasingly in his bitter lamentations, that Li Kuei and the other servants had, for ever so long, an arduous task in trying to comfort him before he desisted; but on his return home he was still exceedingly disconsolate. Dowager lady Chia afforded monetary assistance to the amount of several tens of taels; and exclusive of this, she had sacrificial presents likewise got ready. Pao-yü went and paid a visit of condolence to the family, and after seven days the funeral and burial took place, but there are no particulars about them which could be put on record. Pao-yü, however, continued to mourn (his friend) from day to day, and was incessant in his remembrance of him, but there was likewise no help for it. Neither is it known after how many days he got over his grief. On this day, Chia Chen and the others came to tell Chia Cheng that the works in the garden had all been reported as completed, and that Mr. Chia She had already inspected them. "It only remains," (they said), "for you, sir, to see them; and should there possibly be anything which is not proper, steps will be at once taken to effect the alterations, so that the tablets and scrolls may conveniently be written." After Chia Cheng had listened to these words, he pondered for a while. "These tablets and scrolls," he remarked, "present however a difficult task. According to the rites, we should, in order to obviate any shortcoming, request the imperial consort to deign and compose them; but if the honourable consort does not gaze upon the scenery with her own eyes, it will also be difficult for her to conceive its nature and indite upon it! And were we to wait until the arrival of her highness, to request her to honour the grounds with a visit, before she composes the inscriptions, such a wide landscape, with so many pavilions and arbours, will, without one character in the way of a motto, albeit it may abound with flowers, willows, rockeries, and streams, nevertheless in no way be able to show off its points of beauty to advantage." The whole party of family companions, who stood by, smiled. "Your views, remarkable sir," they ventured, "are excellent; but we have now a proposal to make. Tablets and scrolls for every locality cannot, on any account, be dispensed with, but they could not likewise, by any means, be determined upon for good! Were now, for the time being, two, three or four characters fixed upon, harmonising with the scenery, to carry out, for form's sake, the idea, and were they provisionally utilised as mottoes for the lanterns, tablets and scrolls, and hung up, pending the arrival of her highness, and her visit through the grounds, when she could be requested to decide upon the devices, would not two exigencies be met with satisfactorily?" "Your views are perfectly correct," observed Chia Cheng, after he had heard their suggestion; "and we should go to-day and have a look at the place so as then to set to work to write the inscriptions; which, if suitable, can readily be used; and, if unsuitable, Yü-ts'un can then be sent for, and asked to compose fresh ones." The whole company smiled. "If you, sir, were to compose them to-day," they ventured, "they are sure to be excellent; and what need will there be again to wait for Yü-ts'un!" "You people are not aware," Chia Cheng added with a smiling countenance, "that I've been, even in my young days, very mediocre in the composition of stanzas on flowers, birds, rockeries and streams; and that now that I'm well up in years and have moreover the fatigue and trouble of my official duties, I've become in literary compositions like these, which require a light heart and gladsome mood, still more inapt. Were I even to succeed in composing any, they will unavoidably be so doltish and forced that they would contrariwise be instrumental in making the flowers, trees, garden and pavilions, through their demerits, lose in beauty, and present instead no pleasing feature." "This wouldn't anyhow matter," remonstrated all the family companions, "for after perusing them we can all decide upon them together, each one of us recommending those he thinks best; which if excellent can be kept, and if faulty can be discarded; and there's nothing unfeasible about this!" "This proposal is most apposite," rejoined Chia Cheng. "What's more, the weather is, I rejoice, fine to-day; so let's all go in a company and have a look." Saying this, he stood up and went forward, at the head of the whole party; while Chia Chen betook himself in advance into the garden to let every one know of their coming. As luck would have it, Pao-yü--for he had been these last few days thinking of Ch'in Chung and so ceaselessly sad and wounded at heart, that dowager lady Chia had frequently directed the servants to take him into the new garden to play--made his entrance just at this very time, and suddenly became aware of the arrival of Chia Chen, who said to him with a smile, "Don't you yet run away as fast as you can? Mr. Chia Cheng will be coming in a while." At these words, Pao-yü led off his nurse and the youths, and rushed at once out of the garden, like a streak of smoke; but as he turned a corner, he came face to face with Chia Cheng, who was advancing towards that direction, at the head of all the visitors; and as he had no time to get out of the way, the only course open to him was to stand on one side. Chia Cheng had, of late, heard the tutor extol him by saying that he displayed special ability in rhyming antithetical lines, and that although he did not like to read his books, he nevertheless possessed some depraved talents, and hence it was that he was induced at this moment to promptly bid him follow him into the garden, with the intent of putting him to the test. Pao-yü could not make out what his object was, but he was compelled to follow. As soon as they reached the garden gate, and he caught sight of Chia Chen, standing on one side, along with several managers: "See that the garden gate is closed for a time," Chia Cheng exclaimed, "for we'll first see the outside and then go in." Chia Chen directed a servant to close the gate, and Chia Cheng first looked straight ahead of him towards the gate and espied on the same side as the main entrance a suite of five apartments. Above, the cylindrical tiles resembled the backs of mud eels. The doors, railings, windows, and frames were all finely carved with designs of the new fashion, and were painted neither in vermilion nor in white colours. The whole extent of the walls was of polished bricks of uniform colour; while below, the white marble on the terrace and steps was engraved with western foreign designs; and when he came to look to the right and to the left, everything was white as snow. At the foot of the white-washed walls, tiger-skin pebbles were, without regard to pattern, promiscuously inserted in the earth in such a way as of their own selves to form streaks. Nothing fell in with the custom of gaudiness and display so much in vogue, so that he naturally felt full of delight; and, when he forthwith asked that the gate should be thrown open, all that met their eyes was a long stretch of verdant hills, which shut in the view in front of them. "What a fine hill, what a pretty hill!" exclaimed all the companions with one voice. "Were it not for this one hill," Chia Cheng explained, "whatever scenery is contained in it would clearly strike the eye, as soon as one entered into the garden, and what pleasure would that have been?" "Quite so," rejoined all of them. "But without large hills and ravines in one's breast (liberal capacities), how could one attain such imagination!" After the conclusion of this remark, they cast a glance ahead of them, and perceived white rugged rocks looking, either like goblins, or resembling savage beasts, lying either crossways, or in horizontal or upright positions; on the surface of which grew moss and lichen with mottled hues, or parasitic plants, which screened off the light; while, slightly visible, wound, among the rocks, a narrow pathway like the intestines of a sheep. "If we were now to go and stroll along by this narrow path," Chia Cheng suggested, "and to come out from over there on our return, we shall have been able to see the whole grounds." Having finished speaking, he asked Chia Chen to lead the way; and he himself, leaning on Pao-yü, walked into the gorge with leisurely step. Raising his head, he suddenly beheld on the hill a block of stone, as white as the surface of a looking-glass, in a site which was, in very deed, suitable to be left for an inscription, as it was bound to meet the eye. "Gentlemen," Chia Cheng observed, as he turned his head round and smiled, "please look at this spot. What name will it be fit to give it?" When the company heard his remark, some maintained that the two words "Heaped verdure" should be written; and others upheld that the device should be "Embroidered Hill." Others again suggested: "Vying with the Hsiang Lu;" and others recommended "the small Chung Nan." And various kinds of names were proposed, which did not fall short of several tens. All the visitors had been, it must be explained, aware at an early period of the fact that Chia Cheng meant to put Pao-yü's ability to the test, and for this reason they merely proposed a few combinations in common use. But of this intention, Pao-yü himself was likewise cognizant. After listening to the suggestions, Chia Cheng forthwith turned his head round and bade Pao-yü think of some motto. "I've often heard," Pao-yü replied, "that writers of old opine that it's better to quote an old saying than to compose a new one; and that an old engraving excels in every respect an engraving of the present day. What's more, this place doesn't constitute the main hill or the chief feature of the scenery, and is really no site where any inscription should be put, as it no more than constitutes the first step in the inspection of the landscape. Won't it be well to employ the exact text of an old writer consisting of 'a tortuous path leading to a secluded (nook).' This line of past days would, if inscribed, be, in fact, liberal to boot." After listening to the proposed line, they all sang its praise. "First-rate! excellent!" they cried, "the natural talents of your second son, dear friend, are lofty; his mental capacity is astute; he is unlike ourselves, who have read books but are simple fools." "You shouldn't," urged Chia Cheng smilingly, "heap upon him excessive praise; he's young in years, and merely knows one thing which he turns to the use of ten purposes; you should laugh at him, that's all; but we can by and by choose some device." As he spoke, he entered the cave, where he perceived beautiful trees with thick foliage, quaint flowers in lustrous bloom, while a line of limpid stream emanated out of a deep recess among the flowers and trees, and oozed down through the crevice of the rock. Progressing several steps further in, they gradually faced the northern side, where a stretch of level ground extended far and wide, on each side of which soared lofty buildings, intruding themselves into the skies, whose carved rafters and engraved balustrades nestled entirely among the depressions of the hills and the tops of the trees. They lowered their eyes and looked, and beheld a pure stream flowing like jade, stone steps traversing the clouds, a balustrade of white marble encircling the pond in its embrace, and a stone bridge with three archways, the animals upon which had faces disgorging water from their mouths. A pavilion stood on the bridge, and in this pavilion Chia Chen and the whole party went and sat. "Gentlemen," he inquired, "what shall we write about this?" "In the record," they all replied, "of the 'Drunken Old Man's Pavilion,' written in days of old by Ou Yang, appears this line: 'There is a pavilion pinioned-like,' so let us call this 'the pinioned-like pavilion,' and finish." "Pinioned-like," observed Chia Cheng smiling, "is indeed excellent; but this pavilion is constructed over the water, and there should, after all, be some allusion to the water in the designation. My humble opinion is that of the line in Ou Yang's work, '(the water) drips from between the two peaks,' we should only make use of that single word 'drips.'" "First-rate!" rejoined one of the visitors, "capital! but what would really be appropriate are the two characters 'dripping jadelike.'" Chia Chen pulled at his moustache, as he gave way to reflection; after which, he asked Pao-yü to also propose one himself. "What you, sir, suggested a while back," replied Pao-yü, "will do very well; but if we were now to sift the matter thoroughly, the use of the single word 'drip' by Ou Yang, in his composition about the Niang spring, would appear quite apposite; while the application, also on this occasion, to this spring, of the character 'drip' would be found not quite suitable. Moreover, seeing that this place is intended as a separate residence (for the imperial consort), on her visit to her parents, it is likewise imperative that we should comply with all the principles of etiquette, so that were words of this kind to be used, they would besides be coarse and inappropriate; and may it please you to fix upon something else more recondite and abstruse." "What do you, gentlemen, think of this argument?" Chia Cheng remarked sneeringly. "A little while ago, when the whole company devised something original, you observed that it would be better to quote an old device; and now that we have quoted an old motto, you again maintain that it's coarse and inappropriate! But you had better give us one of yours." "If two characters like 'dripping jadelike' are to be used," Pao-yü explained, "it would be better then to employ the two words 'Penetrating Fragrance,' which would be unique and excellent, wouldn't they?" Chia Cheng pulled his moustache, nodded his head and did not utter a word; whereupon the whole party hastily pressed forward with one voice to eulogize Pao-yü's acquirements as extraordinary. "The selection of two characters for the tablet is an easy matter," suggested Chia Cheng, "but now go on and compose a pair of antithetical phrases with seven words in each." Pao-yü cast a glance round the four quarters, when an idea came into his head, and he went on to recite: The willows, which enclose the shore, the green borrow from three bamboos; On banks apart, the flowers asunder grow, yet one perfume they give. Upon hearing these lines, Chia Cheng gave a faint smile, as he nodded his head, whilst the whole party went on again to be effusive in their praise. But forthwith they issued from the pavilions, and crossed the pond, contemplating with close attention each elevation, each stone, each flower, or each tree. And as suddenly they raised their heads, they caught sight, in front of them, of a line of white wall, of numbers of columns, and beautiful cottages, where flourished hundreds and thousands of verdant bamboos, which screened off the rays of the sun. "What a lovely place!" they one and all exclaimed. Speedily the whole company penetrated inside, perceiving, as soon as they had entered the gate, a zigzag arcade, below the steps of which was a raised pathway, laid promiscuously with stones, and on the furthest part stood a diminutive cottage with three rooms, two with doors leading into them and one without. Everything in the interior, in the shape of beds, teapoys, chairs and tables, were made to harmonise with the space available. Leading out of the inner room of the cottage was a small door from which, as they egressed, they found a back-court with lofty pear trees in blossom and banana trees, as well as two very small retiring back-courts. At the foot of the wall, unexpectedly became visible an aperture where was a spring, for which a channel had been opened scarcely a foot or so wide, to enable it to run inside the wall. Winding round the steps, it skirted the buildings until it reached the front court, where it coiled and curved, flowing out under the bamboos. "This spot," observed Chia Cheng full of smiles, "is indeed pleasant! and could one, on a moonlight night, sit under the window and study, one would not spend a whole lifetime in vain!" As he said this, he quickly cast a glance at Pao-yü, and so terrified did Pao-yü feel that he hastily drooped his head. The whole company lost no time in choosing some irrelevant talk to turn the conversation, and two of the visitors prosecuted their remarks by adding that on the tablet, in this spot, four characters should be inscribed. "Which four characters?" Chia Cheng inquired, laughingly. "The bequeathed aspect of the river Ch'i!" suggested one of them. "It's commonplace," observed Chia Cheng. Another person recommended "the remaining vestiges of the Chü Garden." "This too is commonplace!" replied Chia Cheng. "Let brother Pao-yü again propound one!" interposed Chia Chen, who stood by. "Before he composes any himself," Chia Cheng continued, "his wont is to first discuss the pros and cons of those of others; so it's evident that he's an impudent fellow!" "He's most reasonable in his arguments," all the visitors protested, "and why should he be called to task?" "Don't humour him so much!" Chia Cheng expostulated. "I'll put up for to-day," he however felt constrained to tell Pao-yü, "with your haughty manner, and your rubbishy speech, so that after you have, to begin with, given us your opinion, you may next compose a device. But tell me, are there any that will do among the mottoes suggested just now by all the gentlemen?" "They all seem to me unsuitable!" Pao-yü did not hesitate to say by way of reply to this question. Chia Cheng gave a sardonic smile. "How all unsuitable?" he exclaimed. "This," continued Pao-yü, "is the first spot which her highness will honour on her way, and there should be inscribed, so that it should be appropriate, something commending her sacred majesty. But if a tablet with four characters has to be used, there are likewise devices ready at hand, written by poets of old; and what need is there to compose any more?" "Are forsooth the devices 'the river Ch'i and the Chu Garden' not those of old authors?" insinuated Chia Cheng. "They are too stiff," replied Pao-yü. "Would not the four characters: 'a phoenix comes with dignified air,' be better?" With clamorous unanimity the whole party shouted: "Excellent:" and Chia Cheng nodding his head; "You beast, you beast!" he ejaculated, "it may well be said about you that you see through a thin tube and have no more judgment than an insect! Compose another stanza," he consequently bade him; and Pao-yü recited: In the precious tripod kettle, tea is brewed, but green is still the smoke! O'er is the game of chess by the still window, but the fingers are yet cold. Chia Cheng shook his head. "Neither does this seem to me good!" he said; and having concluded this remark he was leading the company out, when just as he was about to proceed, he suddenly bethought himself of something. "The several courts and buildings and the teapoys, sideboards, tables and chairs," he added, "may be said to be provided for. But there are still all those curtains, screens and portieres, as well as the furniture, nicknacks and curios; and have they too all been matched to suit the requirements of each place?" "Of the things that have to be placed about," Chia Chen explained, a good number have, at an early period, been added, and of course when the time comes everything will be suitably arranged. As for the curtains, screens, and portieres, which have to be hung up, I heard yesterday brother Lien say that they are not as yet complete, that when the works were first taken in hand, the plan of each place was drawn, the measurements accurately calculated and some one despatched to attend to the things, and that he thought that yesterday half of them were bound to come in. Chia Cheng, upon hearing this explanation, readily remembered that with all these concerns Chia Chen had nothing to do; so that he speedily sent some one to go and call Chia Lien. Having arrived in a short while, "How many sorts of things are there in all?" Chia Cheng inquired of him. "Of these how many kinds have by this time been got ready? and how many more are short?" At this question, Chia Lien hastily produced, from the flaps of his boot, a paper pocket-book, containing a list, which he kept inside the tops of his boot. After perusing it and reperusing it, he made suitable reply. "Of the hundred and twenty curtains," he proceeded, "of stiff spotted silks, embroidered with dragons in relief, and of the curtains large and small, of every kind of damask silk, eighty were got yesterday, so that there still remain forty of them to come. The two portieres were both received yesterday; and besides these, there are the two hundred red woollen portieres, two hundred portieres of Hsiang Fei bamboo; two hundred door-screens of rattan, with gold streaks, and of red lacquered bamboo; two hundred portieres of black lacquered rattan; two hundred door-screens of variegated thread-netting with clusters of flowers. Of each of these kinds, half have come in, but the whole lot of them will be complete no later than autumn. Antimacassars, table-cloths, flounces for the beds, and cushions for the stools, there are a thousand two hundred of each, but these likewise are ready and at hand." As he spoke, they proceeded outwards, but suddenly they perceived a hill extending obliquely in such a way as to intercept the passage; and as they wound round the curve of the hill faintly came to view a line of yellow mud walls, the whole length of which was covered with paddy stalks for the sake of protection, and there were several hundreds of apricot trees in bloom, which presented the appearance of being fire, spurted from the mouth, or russet clouds, rising in the air. Inside this enclosure, stood several thatched cottages. Outside grew, on the other hand, mulberry trees, elms, mallows, and silkworm oaks, whose tender shoots and new twigs, of every hue, were allowed to bend and to intertwine in such a way as to form two rows of green fence. Beyond this fence and below the white mound, was a well, by the side of which stood a well-sweep, windlass and such like articles; the ground further down being divided into parcels, and apportioned into fields, which, with the fine vegetables and cabbages in flower, presented, at the first glance, the aspect of being illimitable. "This is," Chia Cheng observed chuckling, "the place really imbued with a certain amount of the right principle; and laid out, though it has been by human labour, yet when it strikes my eye, it so moves my heart, that it cannot help arousing in me the wish to return to my native place and become a farmer. But let us enter and rest a while." As he concluded these words, they were on the point of walking in, when they unexpectedly discerned a stone, outside the trellis gate, by the roadside, which had also been left as a place on which to inscribe a motto. "Were a tablet," argued the whole company smilingly, "put up high in a spot like this, to be filled up by and by, the rustic aspect of a farm would in that case be completely done away with; and it will be better, yea far better to erect this slab on the ground, as it will further make manifest many points of beauty. But unless a motto could be composed of the same excellence as that in Fan Shih-hu's song on farms, it will not be adequate to express its charms!" "Gentlemen," observed Chia Cheng, "please suggest something." "A short while back," replied the whole company, "your son, venerable brother, remarked that devising a new motto was not equal to quoting an old one, and as sites of this kind have been already exhausted by writers of days of old, wouldn't it be as well that we should straightway call it the 'apricot blossom village?' and this will do splendidly." When Chia Cheng heard this remark, he smiled and said, addressing himself to Chia Chen: "This just reminds me that although this place is perfect in every respect, there's still one thing wanting in the shape of a wine board; and you had better then have one made to-morrow on the very same pattern as those used outside in villages; and it needn't be anything gaudy, but hung above the top of a tree by means of bamboos." Chia Chen assented. "There's no necessity," he went on to explain, "to keep any other birds in here, but only to rear a few geese, ducks, fowls and such like; as in that case they will be in perfect keeping with the place." "A splendid idea!" Chia Cheng rejoined, along with all the party. "'Apricot blossom village' is really first-rate," continued Chia Cheng as he again addressed himself to the company; "but the only thing is that it encroaches on the real designation of the village; and it will be as well to wait (until her highness comes), when we can request her to give it a name." "Certainly!" answered the visitors with one voice; "but now as far as a name goes, for mere form, let us all consider what expressions will be suitable to employ." Pao-yü did not however give them time to think; nor did he wait for Chia Cheng's permission, but suggested there and then: "In old poetical works there's this passage: 'At the top of the red apricot tree hangs the flag of an inn,' and wouldn't it be advisable, on this occasion, to temporarily adopt the four words: 'the sign on the apricot tree is visible'?" "'Is visible' is excellent," suggested the whole number of them, "and what's more it secretly accords with the meaning implied by 'apricot blossom village.'" "Were the two words 'apricot blossom' used for the name of the village, they would be too commonplace and unsuitable;" added Pao-yü with a sardonic grin, "but there's another passage in the works of a poet of the T'ang era: 'By the wooden gate near the water the corn-flower emits its fragrance;' and why not make use of the motto 'corn fragrance village,' which will be excellent?" When the company heard his proposal, they, with still greater vigour, unanimously combined in crying out "Capital!" as they clapped their hands. Chia Cheng, with one shout, interrupted their cries, "You ignorant child of wrath!" he ejaculated; "how many old writers can you know, and how many stanzas of ancient poetical works can you remember, that you will have the boldness to show off in the presence of all these experienced gentlemen? (In allowing you to give vent to) all the nonsense you uttered my object was no other than to see whether your brain was clear or muddled; and all for fun's sake, that's all; and lo, you've taken things in real earnest!" Saying this, he led the company into the interior of the hall with the mallows. The windows were pasted with paper, and the bedsteads made of wood, and all appearance of finery had been expunged, and Chia Cheng's heart was naturally much gratified; but nevertheless, scowling angrily at Pao-yü, "What do you think of this place?" he asked. When the party heard this question, they all hastened to stealthily give a nudge to Pao-yü, with the express purpose of inducing him to say it was nice; but Pao-yü gave no ear to what they all urged. "It's by far below the spot," he readily replied, "designated 'a phoenix comes with dignified air.'" "You ignorant stupid thing!" exclaimed Chia Cheng at these words; "what you simply fancy as exquisite, with that despicable reliance of yours upon luxury and display, are two-storied buildings and painted pillars! But how can you know anything about this aspect so pure and unobtrusive, and this is all because of that failing of not studying your books!" "Sir," hastily answered Pao-yü, "your injunctions are certainly correct; but men of old have often made allusion to 'natural;' and what is, I wonder, the import of these two characters?" The company had perceived what a perverse mind Pao yü possessed, and they one and all were much surprised that he should be so silly beyond the possibility of any change; and when now they heard the question he asked, about the two characters representing "natural," they, with one accord, speedily remarked, "Everything else you understand, and how is it that on the contrary you don't know what 'natural' implies? The word 'natural' means effected by heaven itself and not made by human labour." "Well, just so," rejoined Pao-yü; "but the farm, which is laid out in this locality, is distinctly the handiwork of human labour; in the distance, there are no neighbouring hamlets; near it, adjoin no wastes; though it bears a hill, the hill is destitute of streaks; though it be close to water, this water has no spring; above, there is no pagoda nestling in a temple; below, there is no bridge leading to a market; it rises abrupt and solitary, and presents no grand sight! The palm would seem to be carried by the former spot, which is imbued with the natural principle, and possesses the charms of nature; for, though bamboos have been planted in it, and streams introduced, they nevertheless do no violence to the works executed. 'A natural landscape,' says, an ancient author in four words; and why? Simply because he apprehended that what was not land, would, by forcible ways, be converted into land; and that what was no hill would, by unnatural means, be raised into a hill. And ingenious though these works might be in a hundred and one ways, they cannot, after all, be in harmony."... But he had no time to conclude, as Chia Cheng flew into a rage. "Drive him off," he shouted; (but as Pao-yü) was on the point of going out, he again cried out: "Come back! make up," he added, "another couplet, and if it isn't clear, I'll for all this give you a slap on your mouth." Pao-yü had no alternative but to recite as follows: A spot in which the "Ko" fibre to bleach, as the fresh tide doth swell the waters green! A beauteous halo and a fragrant smell the man encompass who the cress did pluck! Chia Cheng, after this recital, nodded his head. "This is still worse!" he remarked, but as he reproved him, he led the company outside, and winding past the mound, they penetrated among flowers, and wending their steps by the willows, they touched the rocks and lingered by the stream. Passing under the trellis with yellow roses, they went into the shed with white roses; they crossed by the pavilion with peonies, and walked through the garden, where the white peony grew; and entering the court with the cinnamon roses, they reached the island of bananas. As they meandered and zigzagged, suddenly they heard the rustling sound of the water, as it came out from a stone cave, from the top of which grew parasitic plants drooping downwards, while at its bottom floated the fallen flowers. "What a fine sight!" they all exclaimed; "what beautiful scenery!" "Gentlemen," observed Chia Cheng, "what name do you propose for this place?" "There's no further need for deliberation," the company rejoined; "for this is just the very spot fit for the three words 'Wu Ling Spring.'" "This too is matter-of-fact!" Chia Cheng objected laughingly, "and likewise antiquated." "If that won't do," the party smiled, "well then what about the four characters implying 'An old cottage of a man of the Ch'in dynasty?'" "This is still more exceedingly plain!" interposed Pao-yü. "'The old cottage of a man of the Ch'in dynasty' is meant to imply a retreat from revolution, and how will it suit this place? Wouldn't the four characters be better denoting 'an isthmus with smart weed, and a stream with flowers'?" When Chia Cheng heard these words, he exclaimed: "You're talking still more stuff and nonsense?" and forthwith entering the grotto, Chia Cheng went on to ask of Chia Chen, "Are there any boats or not?" "There are to be," replied Chia Chen, "four boats in all from which to pick the lotus, and one boat for sitting in; but they haven't now as yet been completed." "What a pity!" Chia Cheng answered smilingly, "that we cannot go in." "But we could also get into it by the tortuous path up the hill," Chia Chen ventured; and after finishing this remark, he walked ahead to show the way, and the whole party went over, holding on to the creepers, and supporting themselves by the trees, when they saw a still larger quantity of fallen leaves on the surface of the water, and the stream itself, still more limpid, gently and idly meandering along on its circuitous course. By the bank of the pond were two rows of weeping willows, which, intermingling with peach and apricot trees, screened the heavens from view, and kept off the rays of the sun from this spot, which was in real truth devoid of even a grain of dust. Suddenly, they espied in the shade of the willows, an arched wooden bridge also reveal itself to the eye, with bannisters of vermilion colour. They crossed the bridge, and lo, all the paths lay open before them; but their gaze was readily attracted by a brick cottage spotless and cool-looking; whose walls were constructed of polished bricks, of uniform colour; (whose roof was laid) with speckless tiles; and whose enclosing walls were painted; while the minor slopes, which branched off from the main hill, all passed along under the walls on to the other side. "This house, in a site like this, is perfectly destitute of any charm!" added Chia Cheng. And as they entered the door, abruptly appeared facing them, a large boulder studded with holes and soaring high in the skies, which was surrounded on all four sides by rocks of every description, and completely, in fact, hid from view the rooms situated in the compound. But of flowers or trees, there was not even one about; and all that was visible were a few strange kinds of vegetation; some being of the creeper genus, others parasitic plants, either hanging from the apex of the hill, or inserting themselves into the base of the rocks; drooping down even from the eaves of the house, entwining the pillars, and closing round the stone steps. Or like green bands, they waved and flapped; or like gold thread, they coiled and bent, either with seeds resembling cinnabar, or with blossoms like golden olea; whose fragrance and aroma could not be equalled by those emitted by flowers of ordinary species. "This is pleasant!" Chia Cheng could not refrain from saying; "the only thing is that I don't know very much about flowers." "What are here are lianas and ficus pumila!" some of the company observed. "How ever can the liana and the ficus have such unusual scent?" questioned Chia Cheng. "Indeed they aren't!" interposed Pao-yü. "Among all these flowers, there are also ficus and liana, but those scented ones are iris, ligularia, and 'Wu' flowers; that kind consist, for the most part, of 'Ch'ih' flowers and orchids; while this mostly of gold-coloured dolichos. That species is the hypericum plant, this the 'Yü Lu' creeper. The red ones are, of course, the purple rue; the green ones consist for certain, of the green 'Chih' plant; and, to the best of my belief, these various plants are mentioned in the 'Li Sao' and 'Wen Hsuan.' These rare plants are, some of them called something or other like 'Huo Na' and 'Chiang Hui;' others again are designated something like 'Lun Tsu' and 'Tz'u Feng;' while others there are whose names sound like 'Shih Fan,' 'Shui Sung' and 'Fu Liu,' which together with other species are to be found in the 'Treatise about the Wu city' by Tso T'ai-chung. There are also those which go under the appellation of 'Lu T'i,' or something like that; while there are others that are called something or other like 'Tan Chiao,' 'Mi Wu' and 'Feng Lien;' reference to which is made in the 'Treatise on the Shu city.' But so many years have now elapsed, and the times have so changed (since these treatises were written), that people, being unable to discriminate (the real names) may consequently have had to appropriate in every case such names as suited the external aspect, so that they may, it is quite possible, have gradually come to be called by wrong designations." But he had no time to conclude; for Chia Cheng interrupted him. "Who has ever asked you about it?" he shouted; which plunged Pao-yü into such a fright, that he drew back, and did not venture to utter another word. Chia Cheng perceiving that on both sides alike were covered passages resembling outstretched arms, forthwith continued his steps and entered the covered way, when he caught sight, at the upper end, of a five-roomed building, without spot or blemish, with folding blinds extending in a connected line, and with corridors on all four sides; (a building) which with its windows so green, and its painted walls, excelled, in spotless elegance, the other buildings they had seen before, to which it presented such a contrast. Chia Cheng heaved a sigh. "If one were able," he observed, "to boil his tea and thrum his lyre in here, there wouldn't even be any need for him to burn any more incense. But the execution of this structure is so beyond conception that you must, gentlemen, compose something nice and original to embellish the tablet with, so as not to render such a place of no effect!" "There's nothing so really pat," suggested the company smiling; "as 'the orchid-smell-laden breeze' and 'the dew-bedecked epidendrum!" "These are indeed the only four characters," rejoined Chia Cheng, "that could be suitably used; but what's to be said as far as the scroll goes?" "I've thought of a couplet," interposed one of the party, "which you'll all have to criticise, and put into ship-shape; its burden is this: "The musk-like epidendrum smell enshrouds the court, where shines the sun with oblique beams; The iris fragrance is wafted over the isle illumined by the moon's clear rays." "As far as excellence is concerned, it's excellent," observed the whole party, "but the two words representing 'with oblique beams' are not felicitous." And as some one quoted the line from an old poem: The angelica fills the court with tears, what time the sun doth slant. "Lugubrious, lugubrious!" expostulated the company with one voice. Another person then interposed. "I also have a couplet, whose merits you, gentlemen, can weigh; it runs as follows: "Along the three pathways doth float the Yü Hui scented breeze! The radiant moon in the whole hall shines on the gold orchid!" Chia Cheng tugged at his moustache and gave way to meditation. He was just about also to suggest a stanza, when, upon suddenly raising his head, he espied Pao-yü standing by his side, too timid to give vent to a single sound. "How is it," he purposely exclaimed, "that when you should speak, you contrariwise don't? Is it likely that you expect some one to request you to confer upon us the favour of your instruction?" "In this place," Pao-yü rejoined at these words, "there are no such things as orchids, musk, resplendent moon or islands; and were one to begin quoting such specimens of allusions, to scenery, two hundred couplets could be readily given without, even then, having been able to exhaust the supply!" "Who presses your head down," Chia Cheng urged, "and uses force that you must come out with all these remarks?" "Well, in that case," added Pao-yü, "there are no fitter words to put on the tablet than the four representing: 'The fragrance pure of the ligularia and iris.' While the device on the scroll might be: "Sung is the nutmeg song, but beauteous still is the sonnet! Near the T'u Mei to sleep, makes e'en a dream with fragrance full!" "This is," laughed Chia Cheng sneeringly, "an imitation of the line: "A book when it is made of plaintain leaves, the writing green is also bound to be! "So that there's nothing remarkable about it." "Li T'ai-po, in his work on the Phoenix Terrace," protested the whole party, "copied, in every point, the Huang Hua Lou. But what's essential is a faultless imitation. Now were we to begin to criticise minutely the couplet just cited, we would indeed find it to be, as compared with the line 'A book when it is made of plantain leaves,' still more elegant and of wider application!" "What an idea?" observed Chia Cheng derisively. But as he spoke, the whole party walked out; but they had not gone very far before they caught sight of a majestic summer house, towering high peak-like, and of a structure rising loftily with storey upon storey; and completely locked in as they were on every side they were as beautiful as the Jade palace. Far and wide, road upon road coiled and wound; while the green pines swept the eaves, the jady epidendrum encompassed the steps, the animals' faces glistened like gold, and the dragons' heads shone resplendent in their variegated hues. "This is the Main Hall," remarked Chia Cheng; "the only word against it is that there's a little too much finery." "It should be so," rejoined one and all, "so as to be what it's intended to be! The imperial consort has, it is true, an exalted preference for economy and frugality, but her present honourable position requires the observance of such courtesies, so that (finery) is no fault." As they made these remarks and advanced on their way the while, they perceived, just in front of them, an archway project to view, constructed of jadelike stone; at the top of which the coils of large dragons and the scales of small dragons were executed in perforated style. "What's the device to be for this spot?" inquired Chia Cheng. "It should be 'fairy land,'" suggested all of them, "so as to be apposite!" Chia Cheng nodded his head and said nothing. But as soon as Pao-yü caught sight of this spot something was suddenly aroused in his heart and he began to ponder within himself. "This place really resembles something that I've seen somewhere or other." But he could not at the moment recall to mind what year, moon, or day this had happened. Chia Cheng bade him again propose a motto; but Pao-yü was bent upon thinking over the details of the scenery he had seen on a former occasion, and gave no thought whatever to this place, so that the whole company were at a loss what construction to give to his silence, and came simply to the conclusion that, after the bullying he had had to put up with for ever so long, his spirits had completely vanished, his talents become exhausted and his speech impoverished; and that if he were harassed and pressed, he might perchance, as the result of anxiety, contract some ailment or other, which would of course not be a suitable issue, and they lost no time in combining together to dissuade Chia Cheng. "Never mind," they said, "to-morrow will do to compose some device; let's drop it now." Chia Cheng himself was inwardly afraid lest dowager lady Chia should be anxious, so that he hastily remarked as he forced a smile. "You beast, there are, after all, also occasions on which you are no good! but never mind! I'll give you one day to do it in, and if by to-morrow you haven't been able to compose anything, I shall certainly not let you off. This is the first and foremost place and you must exercise due care in what you write." Saying this, he sallied out, at the head of the company, and cast another glance at the scenery. Indeed from the time they had entered the gate up to this stage, they had just gone over five or six tenths of the whole ground, when it happened again that a servant came and reported that some one had arrived from Mr. Yü-'ts'un's to deliver a message. "These several places (which remain)," Chia Cheng observed with a smile, "we have no time to pass under inspection; but we might as well nevertheless go out at least by that way, as we shall be able, to a certain degree, to have a look at the general aspect." With these words, he showed the way for the family companions until they reached a large bridge, with water entering under it, looking like a curtain made of crystal. This bridge, the fact is, was the dam, which communicated with the river outside, and from which the stream was introduced into the grounds. "What's the name of this water-gate?" Chia Cheng inquired. "This is," replied Pao-yü, "the main stream of the Hsin Fang river, and is therefore called the Hsin Fang water-gate." "Nonsense!" exclaimed Chia Cheng. "The two words Hsin Fang must on no account be used!" And as they speedily advanced on their way, they either came across elegant halls, or thatched cottages; walls made of piled-up stone, or gates fashioned of twisted plants; either a secluded nunnery or Buddhist fane, at the foot of some hill; or some unsullied houses, hidden in a grove, tenanted by rationalistic priestesses; either extensive corridors and winding grottoes; or square buildings, and circular pavilions. But Chia Cheng had not the energy to enter any of these places, for as he had not had any rest for ever so long, his legs felt shaky and his feet weak. Suddenly they also discerned ahead of them a court disclose itself to view. "When we get there," Chia Cheng suggested, "we must have a little rest." Straightway as he uttered the remark, he led them in, and winding round the jade-green peach-trees, covered with blossom, they passed through the bamboo fence and flower-laden hedge, which were twisted in such a way as to form a circular, cavelike gateway, when unexpectedly appeared before their eyes an enclosure with whitewashed walls, in which verdant willows drooped in every direction. Chia Cheng entered the gateway in company with the whole party. Along the whole length of both sides extended covered passages, connected with each other; while in the court were laid out several rockeries. In one quarter were planted a number of banana trees; on the opposite stood a plant of begonia from Hsi Fu. Its appearance was like an open umbrella. The gossamer hanging (from its branches) resembled golden threads. The corollas (seemed) to spurt out cinnabar. "What a beautiful flower! what a beautiful flower!" ejaculated the whole party with one voice; "begonias are verily to be found; but never before have we seen anything the like of this in beauty." "This is called the maiden begonia and is, in fact, a foreign species," Chia Cheng observed. "There's a homely tradition that it is because it emanates from the maiden kingdom that its flowers are most prolific; but this is likewise erratic talk and devoid of common sense." "They are, after all," rejoined the whole company, "so unlike others (we have seen), that what's said about the maiden kingdom is, we are inclined to believe, possibly a fact." "I presume," interposed Pao-yü, "that some clever bard or poet, (perceiving) that this flower was red like cosmetic, delicate as if propped up in sickness, and that it closely resembled the nature of a young lady, gave it, consequently, the name of maiden! People in the world will propagate idle tales, all of which are unavoidably treated as gospel!" "We receive (with thanks) your instructions; what excellent explanation!" they all remarked unanimously, and as they expressed these words, the whole company took their seats on the sofas under the colonnade. "Let's think of some original text or other for a motto," Chia Cheng having suggested, one of the companions opined that the two characters: "Banana and stork" would be felicitous; while another one was of the idea that what would be faultless would be: "Collected splendour and waving elegance!" "'Collected splendour and waving elegance' is excellent," Chia Cheng observed addressing himself to the party; and Pao-yü himself, while also extolling it as beautiful, went on to say: "There's only one thing however to be regretted!" "What about regret?" the company inquired. "In this place," Pao-yü explained, "are set out both bananas as well as begonias, with the intent of secretly combining in them the two properties of red and green; and if mention of one of them be made, and the other be omitted, (the device) won't be good enough for selection." "What would you then suggest?" Chia Cheng asked. "I would submit the four words, 'the red (flowers) are fragrant, the green (banana leaves) like jade,' which would render complete the beauties of both (the begonias and bananas)." "It isn't good! it isn't good!" Chia Cheng remonstrated as he shook his head; and while passing this remark, he conducted the party into the house, where they noticed that the internal arrangements effected differed from those in other places, as no partitions could, in fact, be discerned. Indeed, the four sides were all alike covered with boards carved hollow with fretwork, (in designs consisting) either of rolling clouds and hundreds of bats; or of the three friends of the cold season of the year, (fir, bamboo and almond); of scenery and human beings, or of birds or flowers; either of clusters of decoration, or of relics of olden times; either of ten thousand characters of happiness or of ten thousand characters of longevity. The various kinds of designs had been all carved by renowned hands, in variegated colours, inlaid with gold, and studded with precious gems; while on shelf upon shelf were either arranged collections of books, or tripods were laid out; either pens and inkslabs were distributed about, or vases with flowers set out, or figured pots were placed about; the designs of the shelves being either round or square; or similar to sunflowers or banana leaves; or like links, half overlapping each other. And in very truth they resembled bouquets of flowers or clusters of tapestry, with all their fretwork so transparent. Suddenly (the eye was struck) by variegated gauzes pasted (on the wood-work), actually forming small windows; and of a sudden by fine thin silks lightly overshadowing (the fretwork) just as if there were, after all, secret doors. The whole walls were in addition traced, with no regard to symmetry, with outlines of the shapes of curios and nick-nacks in imitation of lutes, double-edged swords, hanging bottles and the like, the whole number of which, though (apparently) suspended on the walls, were all however on a same level with the surface of the partition walls. "What fine ingenuity!" they all exclaimed extollingly; "what a labour they must have been to carry out!" Chia Cheng had actually stepped in; but scarcely had they reached the second stage, before the whole party readily lost sight of the way by which they had come in. They glanced on the left, and there stood a door, through which they could go. They cast their eyes on the right, and there was a window which suddenly impeded their progress. They went forward, but there again they were obstructed by a bookcase. They turned their heads round, and there too stood windows pasted with transparent gauze and available door-ways: but the moment they came face to face with the door, they unexpectedly perceived that a whole company of people had likewise walked in, just in front of them, whose appearance resembled their own in every respect. But it was only a mirror. And when they rounded the mirror, they detected a still larger number of doors. "Sir," Chia Chen remarked with a grin; "if you'll follow me out through this door, we'll forthwith get into the back-court; and once out of the back-court, we shall be, at all events, nearer than we were before." Taking the lead, he conducted Chia Cheng and the whole party round two gauze mosquito houses, when they verily espied a door through which they made their exit, into a court, replete with stands of cinnamon roses. Passing round the flower-laden hedge, the only thing that spread before their view was a pure stream impeding their advance. The whole company was lost in admiration. "Where does this water again issue from?" they cried. Chia Chen pointed to a spot at a distance. "Starting originally," he explained, "from that water-gate, it runs as far as the mouth of that cave, when from among the hills on the north-east side, it is introduced into that village, where again a diverging channel has been opened and it is made to flow in a south-westerly direction; the whole volume of water then runs to this spot, where collecting once more in one place, it issues, on its outward course, from beneath that wall." "It's most ingenious!" they one and all exclaimed, after they had listened to him; but, as they uttered these words, they unawares realised that a lofty hill obstructed any further progress. The whole party felt very hazy about the right road. But "Come along after me," Chia Chen smilingly urged, as he at once went ahead and showed the way, whereupon the company followed in his steps, and as soon as they turned round the foot of the hill, a level place and broad road lay before them; and wide before their faces appeared the main entrance. "This is charming! this is delightful!" the party unanimously exclaimed, "what wits must have been ransacked, and ingenuity attained, so as to bring things to this extreme degree of excellence!" Forthwith the party egressed from the garden, and Pao-yü's heart anxiously longed for the society of the young ladies in the inner quarters, but as he did not hear Chia Cheng bid him go, he had no help but to follow him into the library. But suddenly Chia Cheng bethought himself of him. "What," he said, "you haven't gone yet! the old lady will I fear be anxious on your account; and is it pray that you haven't as yet had enough walking?" Pao-yü at length withdrew out of the library. On his arrival in the court, a page, who had been in attendance on Chia Cheng, at once pressed forward, and took hold of him fast in his arms. "You've been lucky enough," he said, "to-day to have been in master's good graces! just a while back when our old mistress despatched servants to come on several occasions and ask after you, we replied that master was pleased with you; for had we given any other answer, her ladyship would have sent to fetch you to go in, and you wouldn't have had an opportunity of displaying your talents. Every one admits that the several stanzas you recently composed were superior to those of the whole company put together; but you must, after the good luck you've had to-day, give us a tip!" "I'll give each one of you a tiao," Pao-yü rejoined smirkingly. "Who of us hasn't seen a tiao?" they all exclaimed, "let's have that purse of yours, and have done with it!" Saying this, one by one advanced and proceeded to unloosen the purse, and to unclasp the fan-case; and allowing Pao-yü no time to make any remonstrance, they stripped him of every ornament in the way of appendage which he carried about on his person. "Whatever we do let's escort him home!" they shouted, and one after another hustled round him and accompanied him as far as dowager lady Chia's door. Her ladyship was at this moment awaiting his arrival, so that when she saw him walk in, and she found out that (Chia Cheng) had not bullied him, she felt, of course, extremely delighted. But not a long interval elapsed before Hsi Jen came to serve the tea; and when she perceived that on his person not one of the ornaments remained, she consequently smiled and inquired: "Have all the things that you had on you been again taken away by these barefaced rascals?" As soon as Lin Tai-yü heard this remark, she crossed over to him and saw at a glance that not one single trinket was, in fact, left. "Have you also given them," she felt constrained to ask, "the purse that I gave you? Well, by and by, when you again covet anything of mine, I shan't let you have it." After uttering these words, she returned into her apartment in high dudgeon, and taking the scented bag, which Pao-yü had asked her to make for him, and which she had not as yet finished, she picked up a pair of scissors, and instantly cut it to pieces. Pao-yü noticing that she had lost her temper, came after her with hurried step, but the bag had already been cut with the scissors; and as Pao-yü observed how extremely fine and artistic this scented bag was, in spite of its unfinished state, he verily deplored that it should have been rent to pieces for no rhyme or reason. Promptly therefore unbuttoning his coat, he produced from inside the lapel the purse, which had been fastened there. "Look at this!" he remarked as he handed it to Tai-yü; "what kind of thing is this! have I given away to any one what was yours?" Lin Tai-yü, upon seeing how much he prized it as to wear it within his clothes, became alive to the fact that it was done with intent, as he feared lest any one should take it away; and as this conviction made her sorry that she had been so impetuous as to have cut the scented bag, she lowered her head and uttered not a word. "There was really no need for you to have cut it," Pao-yü observed; "but as I know that you're loth to give me anything, what do you say to my returning even this purse?" With these words, he threw the purse in her lap and walked off; which vexed Tai-yü so much the more that, after giving way to tears, she took up the purse in her hands to also destroy it with the scissors, when Pao-yü precipitately turned round and snatched it from her grasp. "My dear cousin," he smilingly pleaded, "do spare it!" and as Tai-yü dashed down the scissors and wiped her tears: "You needn't," she urged, "be kind to me at one moment, and unkind at another; if you wish to have a tiff, why then let's part company!" But as she spoke, she lost control over her temper, and, jumping on her bed, she lay with her face turned towards the inside, and set to work drying her eyes. Pao-yü could not refrain from approaching her. "My dear cousin, my own cousin," he added, "I confess my fault!" "Go and find Pao-yü!" dowager lady Chia thereupon gave a shout from where she was in the front apartment, and all the attendants explained that he was in Miss Lin's room. "All right, that will do! that will do!" her ladyship rejoined, when she heard this reply; "let the two cousins play together; his father kept him a short while back under check, for ever so long, so let him have some distraction. But the only thing is that you mustn't allow them to have any quarrels." To which the servants in a body expressed their obedience. Tai-yü, unable to put up with Pao-yü's importunity, felt compelled to rise. "Your object seems to be," she remarked, "not to let me have any rest. If it is, I'll run away from you." Saying which, she there and then was making her way out, when Pao-yü protested with a face full of smiles: "Wherever you go, I'll follow!" and as he, at the same time, took the purse and began to fasten it on him, Tai-yü stretched out her hand, and snatching it away, "You say you don't want it," she observed, "and now you put it on again! I'm really much ashamed on your account!" And these words were still on her lips when with a sound of Ch'ih, she burst out laughing. "My dear cousin," Pao-yü added, "to-morrow do work another scented bag for me!" "That too will rest upon my good pleasure," Tai-yü rejoined. As they conversed, they both left the room together and walked into madame Wang's suite of apartments, where, as luck would have it, Pao-ch'ai was also seated. Unusual commotion prevailed, at this time, over at madame Wang's, for the fact is that Chia Se had already come back from Ku Su, where he had selected twelve young girls, and settled about an instructor, as well as about the theatrical properties and the other necessaries. And as Mrs. Hsüeh had by this date moved her quarters into a separate place on the northeast side, and taken up her abode in a secluded and quiet house, (madame Wang) had had repairs of a distinct character executed in the Pear Fragrance Court, and then issued directions that the instructor should train the young actresses in this place; and casting her choice upon all the women, who had, in days of old, received a training in singing, and who were now old matrons with white hair, she bade them have an eye over them and keep them in order. Which done, she enjoined Chia Se to assume the chief control of all matters connected with the daily and monthly income and outlay, as well as of the accounts of all articles in use of every kind and size. Lin Chih-hsiao also came to report: "that the twelve young nuns and Taoist girls, who had been purchased after proper selection, had all arrived, and that the twenty newly-made Taoist coats had also been received. That there was besides a maiden, who though devoted to asceticism, kept her chevelure unshaved; that she was originally a denizen of Suchow, of a family whose ancestors were also people of letters and official status; that as from her youth up she had been stricken with much sickness, (her parents) had purchased a good number of substitutes (to enter the convent), but all with no relief to her, until at last this girl herself entered the gate of abstraction when she at once recovered. That hence it was that she grew her hair, while she devoted herself to an ascetic life; that she was this year eighteen years of age, and that the name given to her was Miao Yü; that her father and mother were, at this time, already dead; that she had only by her side, two old nurses and a young servant girl to wait upon her; that she was most proficient in literature, and exceedingly well versed in the classics and canons; and that she was likewise very attractive as far as looks went; that having heard that in the city of Ch'ang-an, there were vestiges of Kuan Yin and relics of the canons inscribed on leaves, she followed, last year, her teacher (to the capital). She now lives," he said, "in the Lao Ni nunnery, outside the western gate; her teacher was a great expert in prophetic divination, but she died in the winter of last year, and her dying words were that as it was not suitable for (Miao Yü) to return to her native place, she should await here, as something in the way of a denouement was certain to turn up; and this is the reason why she hasn't as yet borne the coffin back to her home!" "If such be the case," madame Wang readily suggested, "why shouldn't we bring her here?" "If we are to ask her," Lin Chih-hsiao's wife replied, "she'll say that a marquis' family and a duke's household are sure, in their honourable position, to be overbearing to people; and I had rather not go." "As she's the daughter of an official family," madame Wang continued, "she's bound to be inclined to be somewhat proud; but what harm is there to our sending her a written invitation to ask her to come!" Lin Chih-hsiao's wife assented; and leaving the room, she made the secretary write an invitation and then went to ask Miao Yü. The next day servants were despatched, and carriages and sedan chairs were got ready to go and bring her over. What subsequently transpired is not as yet known, but, reader, listen to the account given in the following chapter. CHAPTER XVIII. His Majesty shows magnanimous bounty. The Imperial consort Yuan pays a visit to her parents. The happiness of a family gathering. Pao-yü displays his polished talents. But let us resume our story. A servant came, at this moment, to report that for the works in course of execution, they were waiting for gauze and damask silk to paste on various articles, and that they requested lady Feng to go and open the depôt for them to take the gauze and silk, while another servant also came to ask lady Feng to open the treasury for them to receive the gold and silver ware. And as Madame Wang, the waiting-maids and the other domestics of the upper rooms had all no leisure, Pao-ch'ai suggested: "Don't let us remain in here and be in the way of their doing what there is to be done, and of going where they have to go," and saying this, she betook herself, escorted by Pao-yü and the rest, into Ying Ch'un's rooms. Madame Wang continued day after day in a great state of flurry and confusion, straight up to within the tenth moon, by which time every arrangement had been completed, and the overseers had all handed in a clear statement of their accounts. The curios and writing materials, wherever needed, had all already been laid out and everything got ready, and the birds (and animals), from the stork, the deer and rabbits to the chickens, geese and the like, had all been purchased and handed over to be reared in the various localities in the garden; and over at Chia Se's, had also been learnt twenty miscellaneous plays, while a company of young nuns and Taoist priestesses had likewise the whole number of them, mastered the intonation of Buddhist classics and incantations. Chia Cheng after this, at length, was slightly composed in mind, and cheerful at heart; and having further invited dowager lady Chia and other inmates to go into the garden, he deliberated with them on, and made arrangements for, every detail in such a befitting manner that not the least trifle remained for which suitable provision had not been made; and Chia Cheng eventually mustered courage to indite a memorial, and on the very day on which the memorial was presented, a decree was received fixing upon the fifteenth day of the first moon of the ensuing year, the very day of the Shang Yuan festival, for the honourable consorts to visit their homes. Upon the receipt of this decree, with which the Chia family was honoured, they had still less leisure, both by day as well as by night; so much so that they could not even properly observe the new year festivities. But in a twinkle of the eye, the festival of the full moon of the first moon drew near; and beginning from the eighth day of the first moon, eunuchs issued from the palace and inspected beforehand the various localities, the apartments in which the imperial consort was to change her costume; the place where she would spend her leisure moments; the spot where she would receive the conventionalities; the premises where the banquets would be spread; the quarters where she would retire for rest. There were also eunuchs who came to assume the patrol of the grounds and the direction of the defences; and they brought along with them a good many minor eunuchs, whose duty it was to look after the safety of the various localities, to screen the place with enclosing curtains, to instruct the inmates and officials of the Chia mansion whither to go out and whence to come in from, what side the viands should be brought in from, where to report matters, and in the observance of every kind of etiquette; and for outside the mansion, there were, on the other hand, officers from the Board of Works, and a superintendent of the Police, of the "Five Cities," in charge of the sweeping of the streets and roads, and the clearing away of loungers. While Chia She and the others superintended the workmen in such things as the manufacture of flowered lanterns and fireworks. The fourteenth day arrived and everything was in order; but on this night, one and all whether high or low, did not get a wink of sleep; and when the fifteenth came, every one, at the fifth watch, beginning from dowager lady Chia and those who enjoyed any official status, appeared in full gala dress, according to their respective ranks. In the garden, the curtains were, by this time, flapping like dragons, the portieres flying about like phoenixes with variegated plumage. Gold and silver glistened with splendour. Pearls and precious gems shed out their brilliant lustre. The tripod censers burnt the Pai-ho incense. In the vases were placed evergreens. Silence and stillness prevailed, and not a man ventured so much as to cough. Chia She and the other men were standing outside the door giving on to the street on the west; and old lady Chia and the other ladies were outside the main entrance of the Jung mansion at the head of the street, while at the mouth of the lane were placed screens to rigorously obstruct the public gaze. They were unable to bear the fatigue of any further waiting when, at an unexpected moment, a eunuch arrived on horseback, and Chia Cheng went up to meet him, and ascertained what tidings he was the bearer of. "It's as yet far too early," rejoined the eunuch, "for at one o'clock (her highness) will have her evening repast, and at two she has to betake herself to the Palace of Precious Perception to worship Buddha. At five, she will enter the Palace of Great Splendour to partake of a banquet, and to see the lanterns, after which, she will request His Majesty's permission; so that, I'm afraid, it won't be earlier than seven before they set out." Lady Feng's ear caught what was said. "If such be the case," she interposed, "may it please your venerable ladyship, and you, my lady, to return for a while to your apartments, and wait; and if you come when it's time you'll be here none too late." Dowager lady Chia and the other ladies immediately left for a time and suited their own convenience, and as everything in the garden devolved upon lady Feng to supervise, she ordered the butlers to take the eunuchs and give them something to eat and drink; and at the same time, she sent word that candles should be brought in and that the lanterns in the various places should be lit. But unexpectedly was heard from outside the continuous patter of horses running, whereupon about ten eunuchs hurried in gasping and out of breath. They clapped their hands, and the several eunuchs (who had come before), understanding the signal, and knowing that the party had arrived, stood in their respective positions; while Chia She, at the head of all the men of the clan, remained at the western street door, and dowager lady Chia, at the head of the female relatives of the family, waited outside the principal entrance to do the honours. For a long interval, everything was plunged in silence and quiet; when suddenly two eunuchs on horseback were espied advancing with leisurely step. Reaching the western street gate, they dismounted, and, driving their horses beyond the screens, they forthwith took their stand facing the west. After another long interval, a second couple arrived, and went likewise through the same proceedings. In a short time, drew near about ten couples, when, at length, were heard the gentle strains of music, and couple by couple advanced with banners, dragons, with fans made with phoenix feathers, and palace flabella of pheasant plumes; and those besides who carried gold-washed censers burning imperial incense. Next in order was brought past a state umbrella of golden yellow, with crooked handle and embroidered with seven phoenixes; after which quickly followed the crown, robe, girdle and shoes. There were likewise eunuchs, who took a part in the procession, holding scented handkerchiefs and embroidered towels, cups for rinsing the mouth, dusters and other such objects; and company after company went past, when, at the rear, approached with stately step eight eunuchs carrying an imperial sedan chair, of golden yellow, with a gold knob and embroidered with phoenixes. Old lady Chia and the other members of the family hastily fell on their knees, but a eunuch came over at once to raise her ladyship and the rest; and the imperial chair was thereupon carried through the main entrance, the ceremonial gate and into a court on the eastern side, at the door of which stood a eunuch, who prostrated himself and invited (her highness) to dismount and change her costume. Having forthwith carried her inside the gate, the eunuchs dispersed; and only the maids-of-honour and ladies-in-waiting ushered Yuan Ch'un out of the chair, when what mainly attracted her eye in the park was the brilliant lustre of the flowered lamps of every colour, all of which were made of gauze or damask, and were beautiful in texture, and out of the common run; while on the upper side was a flat lantern with the inscription in four characters, "Regarded (by His Majesty's) benevolence and permeated by his benefits." Yuan Ch'un entered the apartment and effected the necessary changes in her toilette; after which, she again egressed, and, mounting her chair, she made her entry into the garden, when she perceived the smoke of incense whirling and twirling, and the reflection of the flowers confusing the eyes. Far and wide, the rays of light, shed by the lanterns, intermingled their brilliancy, while, from time to time, fine strains of music sounded with clamorous din. But it would be impossible to express adequately the perfect harmony in the aspect of this scene, and the grandeur of affluence and splendour. The imperial consort of the Chia family, we must now observe, upon catching sight, from the interior of her chair, of the picture presented within as well as without the confines of this garden, shook her head and heaved a sigh. "What lavish extravagance! What excessive waste!" she soliloquised. But of a sudden was again seen a eunuch who, on his knees, invited her to get into a boat; and the Chia consort descended from the chair and stepped into the craft, when the expanse of a limpid stream met her gaze, whose grandeur resembled that of the dragon in its listless course. The stone bannisters, on each side, were one mass of air-tight lanterns, of every colour, made of crystal or glass, which threw out a light like the lustre of silver or the brightness of snow. The willow, almond and the whole lot of trees, on the upper side, were, it is true, without blossom and leaves; but pongee and damask silks, paper and lustring had been employed, together with rice-paper, to make flowers of, which had been affixed on the branches. Upon each tree were suspended thousands of lanterns; and what is more, the lotus and aquatic plants, the ducks and water fowl in the pond had all, in like manner, been devised out of conches and clams, plumes and feathers. The various lanterns, above and below, vied in refulgence. In real truth, it was a crystal region, a world of pearls and precious stones. On board the boat were also every kind of lanterns representing such designs as are used on flower-pots, pearl-laden portieres, embroidered curtains, oars of cinnamon wood, and paddles of magnolia, which need not of course be minutely described. They entered a landing with a stone curb; and on this landing was erected a flat lantern upon which were plainly visible the four characters the "Persicary beach and flower-laden bank." But, reader, you have heard how that these four characters "the persicary beach and the flower-laden bank," the motto "a phoenix comes with dignified air," and the rest owe one and all their origin to the unexpected test to which Chia Cheng submitted, on a previous occasion, Pao-yü's literary abilities; but how did it come about that they were actually adopted? You must remember that the Chia family had been, generation after generation, given to the study of letters, so that it was only natural that there should be among them one or two renowned writers of verses; for how could they ever resemble the families of such upstarts, who only employ puerile expressions as a makeshift to get through what they have to do? But the why and the wherefore must be sought in the past. The consort, belonging to the Chia mansion, had, before she entered the palace, been, from her infancy, also brought up by dowager lady Chia; and when Pao-yü was subsequently added to the family, she was the eldest sister and Pao-yü the youngest child. The Chia consort, bearing in mind how that she had, when her mother was verging on old age, at length obtained this younger brother, she for this reason doated upon him with single love; and as they were besides companions in their attendance upon old lady Chia, they were inseparable for even a moment. Before Pao-yü had entered school, and when three or four years of age, he had already received oral instruction from the imperial spouse Chia from the contents of several books and had committed to memory several thousands of characters, for though they were only sister and brother, they were like mother and child. And after she had entered the Palace, she was wont time and again to have letters taken out to her father and her cousins, urgently recommending them to be careful with his bringing up, that if they were not strict, he could not possibly become good for anything, and that if they were immoderately severe, there was the danger of something unpropitious befalling him, with the result, moreover, that his grandmother would be stricken with sorrow; and this solicitude on his account was never for an instant lost sight of by her. Hence it was that Chia Cheng having, a few days back, heard his teacher extol him for his extreme abilities, he forthwith put him to the test on the occasion of their ramble through the garden. And though (his compositions) were not in the bold style of a writer of note, yet they were productions of their own family, and would, moreover, be instrumental, when the Chia consort had her notice attracted by them, and come to know that they were devised by her beloved brother, in also not rendering nugatory the anxious interest which she had ever entertained on his behalf, and he, therefore, purposely adopted what had been suggested by Pao-yü; while for those places, for which on that day no devices had been completed, a good number were again subsequently composed to make up what was wanted. After the Chia consort had, for we shall now return to her, perused the four characters, she gave a smile. "The two words 'flower-laden bank,'" she said, "are really felicitous, so what use was there for 'persicary beach?'" When the eunuch in waiting heard this observation, he promptly jumped off the craft on to the bank, and at a flying pace hurried to communicate it to Chia Cheng, and Chia Cheng instantly effected the necessary alteration. By this time the craft had reached the inner bank, and leaving the boat, and mounting into her sedan chair, she in due course contemplated the magnificent Jade-like Palace; the Hall of cinnamon wood, lofty and sublime; and the marble portals with the four characters in bold style: the "Precious confines of heavenly spirits," which the Chia consort gave directions should be changed for the four words denoting: "additional Hall (for the imperial consort) on a visit to her parents." And forthwith making her entrance into the travelling lodge her gaze was attracted by torches burning in the court encompassing the heavens, fragments of incense strewn on the ground, fire-like trees and gem-like flowers, gold-like windows and jade-like bannisters. But it would be difficult to give a full account of the curtains, which rolled up (as fine as a) shrimp's moustache; of the carpets of other skins spread on the floor; of the tripods exhaling the fragrant aroma of the brain of the musk deer; of the screens in a row resembling fans made of pheasant tails. Indeed, the gold-like doors and the windows like jade were suggestive of the abode of spirits; while the halls made of cinnamon wood and the palace of magnolia timber, of the very homes of the imperial secondary consorts. "Why is it," the Chia consort inquired, "that there is no tablet in this Hall?" The eunuch in waiting fell on his knees. "This is the main Hall," he reverently replied, "and the officials, outside the palace, did not presume to take upon themselves to suggest any motto." The Chia consort shook her head and said not a word; whereupon the eunuch, who acted as master of ceremonies, requested Her Majesty to ascend the throne and receive homage. The band stationed on the two flights of steps struck up a tune, while two eunuchs ushered Chia She, Chia Cheng and the other members on to the moonlike stage, where they arranged themselves in order and ascended into the hall, but when the ladies-in-waiting transmitted her commands that the homage could be dispensed with, they at once retraced their footsteps. (The master of the ceremonies), in like manner led forward the dowager lady of the Jung Kuo mansion, as well as the female relatives, from the steps on the east side, on to the moon-like stage; where they were placed according to their ranks. But the maids-of-honour again commanded that they should dispense with the ceremony, so they likewise promptly withdrew. After tea had been thrice presented, the Chia consort descended the Throne, and the music ceased. She retired into a side room to change her costume, and the private chairs were then got ready for her visit to her parents. Issuing from the garden, she came into the main quarters belonging to dowager lady Chia, where she was bent upon observing the domestic conventionalities, when her venerable ladyship, and the other members of the family, prostrated themselves in a body before her, and made her desist. Tears dropped down from the eyes of the Chia consort as (she and her relatives) mutually came forward, and greeted each other, and as with one hand she grasped old lady Chia, and with the other she held madame Wang, the three had plenty in their hearts which they were fain to speak about; but, unable as each one of them was to give utterance to their feelings, all they did was to sob and to weep, as they kept face to face to each other; while madame Hsing, widow Li Wan, Wang Hsi-feng, and the three sisters: Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, and Hsi Ch'un, stood aside in a body shedding tears and saying not a word. After a long time, the Chia consort restrained her anguish, and forcing a smile, she set to work to reassure old lady Chia and madame Wang. "Having in days gone by," she urged, "been sent to that place where no human being can be seen, I have to-day after extreme difficulty returned home; and now that you ladies and I have been reunited, instead of chatting or laughing we contrariwise give way to incessant tears! But shortly, I shall be gone, and who knows when we shall be able again to even see each other!" When she came to this sentence, they could not help bursting into another tit of crying; and Madame Hsing hastened to come forward, and to console dowager lady Chia and the rest. But when the Chia consort resumed her seat, and one by one came again, in turn, to exchange salutations, they could not once more help weeping and sobbing for a time. Next in order, were the managers and servants of the eastern and western mansions to perform their obeisance in the outer pavilion; and after the married women and waiting-maids had concluded their homage, the Chia consort heaved a sigh. "How many relatives," she observed, "there are all of whom, alas! I may not see." "There are here now," madame Wang rejoined with due respect, "kindred with outside family names, such as Mrs. Hsüeh, née Wang, Pao-ch'ai, and Tai-yü waiting for your commands; but as they are distant relatives, and without official status, they do not venture to arrogate to themselves the right of entering into your presence." But the Chia consort issued directions that they should be invited to come that they should see each other; and in a short while, Mrs. Hsüeh and the other relatives walked in, but as they were on the point of performing the rites, prescribed by the state, she bade them relinquish the observance so that they came forward, and each, in turn, alluded to what had transpired during the long separation. Pao Ch'in also and a few other waiting-maids, whom the Chia consort had originally taken along with her into the palace, knocked their heads before dowager lady Chia, but her ladyship lost no time in raising them up, and in bidding them go into a separate suite of rooms to be entertained; and as for the retainers, eunuchs as well as maids-of-honour, ladies-in-waiting and every attendant, there were needless to say, those in the two places, the Ning mansion and Chia She's residence, to wait upon them; there only remained three or four young eunuchs to answer the summons. The mother and daughter and her cousins conversed for some time on what had happened during the protracted separation, as well as on domestic affairs and their private feelings, when Chia Cheng likewise advanced as far as the other side of the portiere, and inquired after her health, and the Chia consort from inside performed the homage and other conventionalities (due to her parent). "The families of farmers," she further went on to say to her father, "feed on salted cabbage, and clothe in cotton material; but they readily enjoy the happiness of the relationships established by heaven! We, however, relatives though we now be of one bone and flesh, are, with all our affluence and honours, living apart from each other, and deriving no happiness whatsoever!" Chia Cheng, on his part endeavoured, to restrain his tears. "I belonged," he rejoined, "to a rustic and poor family; and among that whole number of pigeons and pheasants, how could I have imagined that I would have obtained the blessing of a hidden phoenix! Of late all for the sake of your honourable self, His Majesty, above, confers upon us his heavenly benefits; while we, below, show forth the virtue of our ancestors! And it is mainly because the vital principle of the hills, streams, sun, and moon, and the remote virtue of our ancestors have been implanted in you alone that this good fortune has attained me Cheng and my wife! Moreover, the present emperor, bearing in mind the great bounty shewn by heaven and earth in promoting a ceaseless succession, has vouchsafed a more generous act of grace than has ever been displayed from old days to the present. And although we may besmear our liver and brain in the mire, how could we show our gratitude, even to so slight a degree as one ten-thousandth part. But all I can do is, in the daytime, to practise diligence, vigilance at night, and loyalty in my official duties. My humble wish is that His Majesty, my master, may live ten thousand years and see thousands of autumns, so as to promote the welfare of all mankind in the world! And you, worthy imperial consort, must, on no account, be mindful of me Cheng and my wife, decrepid as we are in years. What I would solicit more than anything is that you should be more careful of yourself, and that you should be diligent and reverential in your service to His Majesty, with the intent that you may not prove ungrateful of his affectionate regard and bountiful grace." The Chia consort, on the other hand, enjoined "that much as it was expedient to display zeal, in the management of state matters, it behoved him, when he had any leisure, to take good care of himself, and that he should not, whatever he did, give way to solicitude on her behalf." And Chia Cheng then went on to say "that the various inscriptions in the park over the pavilions, terraces, halls and residences had been all composed by Pao-yü, and, that in the event of there being one or two that could claim her attention, he would be happy if it would please her to at once favour him with its name." Whereupon the imperial consort Yüan, when she heard that Pao-yü could compose verses, forthwith exclaimed with a smile: "He has in very truth made progress!" After Chia Cheng had retired out of the hall, the Chia consort made it a point to ask: "How is it that I do not see Pao-yü?" and dowager lady Chia explained: "An outside male relative as he is, and without official rank, he does not venture to appear before you of his own accord." "Bring him in!" the imperial consort directed; whereupon a young eunuch ushered Pao-yü in. After he had first complied with the state ceremonies, she bade him draw near to her, and taking his hand, she held it in her lap, and, as she went on to caress his head and neck, she smiled and said: "He's grown considerably taller than he was before;" but she had barely concluded this remark, when her tears ran down as profuse as rain. Mrs. Yu, lady Feng, and the rest pressed forward. "The banquet is quite ready," they announced, "and your highness is requested to favour the place with your presence." The imperial consort Yuan stood up and asking Pao-yü to lead the way, she followed in his steps, along with the whole party, and betook herself on foot as far as the entrance of the garden gate, whence she at once espied, in the lustre shed by the lanterns, every kind of decorations. Entering the garden, they first passed the spots with the device "a phoenix comes with dignified air," "the red (flowers are) fragrant and the green (banana leaves like) jade!" "the sign on the apricot tree is visible," "the fragrance pure of the ligularia and iris," and other places; and ascending the towers they walked up the halls, forded the streams and wound round the hills; contemplating as they turned their gaze from side to side, each place arranged in a different style, and each kind of article laid out in unique designs. The Chia consort expressed her admiration in most profuse eulogiums, and then went on to advise them: "that it was not expedient to indulge in future in such excessive extravagance and that all these arrangements were over and above what should have been done." Presently they reached the main pavilion, where she commanded that they could dispense with the rites and take their seats. A sumptuous banquet was laid out, at which dowager lady Chia and the other ladies occupied the lower seats and entertained each other, while Mrs. Yu, widow Li Wan, lady Feng and the rest presented the soup and handed the cups. The Imperial consort Yuan subsequently directed that the pencils and inkslabs should be brought, and with her own hands she opened the silken paper. She chose the places she liked, and conferred upon them a name; and devising a general designation for the garden, she called it the Ta Kuan garden (Broad vista), while for the tablet of the main pavilion the device she composed ran as follows: "Be mindful of the grace and remember the equity (of His Majesty);" with this inscription on the antithetical scrolls: Mercy excessive Heaven and earth display, And it men young and old hail gratefully; From old till now they pour their bounties great Those rich gifts which Cathay and all states permeate. Changing also the text: "A phoenix comes with dignified air for the Hsiao Hsiang Lodge." "The red (flowers are) fragrant and the green (banana leaves like) jade," she altered into "Happy red and joyful green"; bestowing upon the place the appellation of the I Hung court (joyful red). The spot where "the fragrance pure of the ligularia and iris," was inscribed, she called "the ligularia and the 'Wu' weed court;" and where was "the sign in the apricot tree is visible," she designated "the cottage in the hills where dolichos is bleached." The main tower she called the Broad Vista Tower. The lofty tower facing the east, she designated "the variegated and flowery Hall;" bestowing on the line of buildings, facing the west, the appellation of "the Hall of Occult Fragrance;" and besides these figured such further names as: "the Hall of peppery wind," "the Arbour of lotus fragrance," "the Islet of purple caltrop," "the Bank of golden lotus," and the like. There were also tablets with four characters such as: "the peach blossom and the vernal rain;" "the autumnal wind prunes the Eloecocca," "the artemisia leaves and the night snow," and other similar names which could not all be placed on record. She furthermore directed that such tablets as were already put up, should not be dismounted, and she forthwith took the lead and composed an heptameter stanza, the burden of which was: Hills it enclasps, embraces streams, with skill it is laid out: What task the grounds to raise! the works to start and bring about! Of scenery in heaven and amongst men store has been made; The name Broad Vista o'er the fragrant park should be engraved. When she had finished writing, she observed smilingly, as she addressed herself to all the young ladies: "I have all along lacked the quality of sharpness and never besides been good at verses; as you, sisters, and all of you have ever been aware; but, on a night like this I've been fain to do my best, with the object of escaping censure, and of not reflecting injustice on this scenery and nothing more. But some other day when I've got time, be it ever so little, I shall deem it my duty to make up what remains by inditing a record of the Broad Vista Garden, as well as a song on my visit to my parents and other such literary productions in memory of the events of this day. You sisters and others must, each of you, in like manner compose a stanza on the motto on each tablet, expressing your sentiments, as you please, without being restrained by any regard for my meagre ability. Knowing as I do besides that Pao-yü is, indeed, able to write verses, I feel the more delighted! But among his compositions, those I like the best are those in the two places, 'the Hsiao Hsiang Lodge,' and 'the court of Heng and Wu;' and next those of 'the Joyful red court,' and 'the cottage in the hills, where the dolichos is bleached.' As for grand sites like these four, there should be found some out-of-the-way expressions to insert in the verses so that they should be felicitous. The antithetical lines composed by you, (Pao-yü), on a former occasion are excellent, it is true; but you should now further indite for each place, a pentameter stanza, so that by allowing me to test you in my presence, you may not show yourself ungrateful for the trouble I have taken in teaching you from your youth up." Pao-yü had no help but to assent, and descending from the hall, he went off all alone to give himself up to reflection. Of the three Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, and Hsi Ch'un, T'an Ch'un must be considered to have also been above the standard of her sisters, but she, in her own estimation, imagined it, in fact, difficult to compete with Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai and Lin Tai-yü. With no alternative however than that of doing her best, she followed the example of all the rest with the sole purpose of warding off criticism. And Li Wan too succeeded, after much exertion, in putting together a stanza. The consort of the Chia family perused in due order the verses written by the young ladies, the text of which is given below. The lines written by Ying Ch'un on the tablet of "Boundless spirits and blissful heart" were: A park laid out with scenery surpassing fine and rare! Submissive to thy will, on boundless bliss bashful I write! Who could believe that yonder scenes in this world found a share! Will not thy heart be charmed on thy visit by the sight? These are the verses by T'an Ch'un on the tablet of "All nature vies in splendour": Of aspect lofty and sublime is raised a park of fame! Honoured with thy bequest, my shallow lore fills me with shame. No words could e'er amply exhaust the beauteous skill, For lo! in very truth glory and splendour all things fill! Thus runs Hsi Ch'un's stanza on the tablet of the "Conception of literary compositions": The hillocks and the streams crosswise beyond a thousand li extend! The towers and terraces 'midst the five-coloured clouds lofty ascend! In the resplendent radiance of both sun and moon the park it lies! The skill these scenes to raise the skill e'en essays to conceive outvies! The lines composed by Li Wan on the tablet "grace and elegance," consisted of: The comely streams and hillocks clear, in double folds, embrace; E'en Fairyland, forsooth, transcend they do in elegance and grace! The "Fragrant Plant" the theme is of the ballad fan, green-made. Like drooping plum-bloom flap the lapel red and the Hsiang gown. From prosperous times must have been handed down those pearls and jade. What bliss! the fairy on the jasper terrace will come down! When to our prayers she yields, this glorious park to contemplate, No mortal must e'er be allowed these grounds to penetrate. The ode by Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai on the tablet of "Concentrated Splendour and Accumulated auspiciousness" was: Raised on the west of the Imperial city, lo! the park stored with fragrant smell, Shrouded by Phoebe's radiant rays and clouds of good omen, in wondrous glory lies! The willows tall with joy exult that the parrots their nests have shifted from the dell. The bamboo groves, when laid, for the phoenix with dignity to come, were meant to rise. The very eve before the Empress' stroll, elegant texts were ready and affixed. If even she her parents comes to see, how filial piety supreme must be! When I behold her beauteous charms and talents supernatural, with awe transfixed, One word, to utter more how can I troth ever presume, when shame overpowers me. The distich by Lin Tai-yü on the tablet of "Spiritual stream outside the world," ran thus: Th' imperial visit doth enhance joy and delight. This fairy land from mortal scenes what diff'rent sight! The comely grace it borrows of both hill and stream; And to the landscape it doth add a charm supreme. The fumes of Chin Ku wine everything permeate; The flowers the inmate of the Jade Hall fascinate. The imperial favour to receive how blessed our lot! For oft the palace carriage will pass through this spot. The Chia consort having concluded the perusal of the verses, and extolled them for a time: "After all," she went on to say with a smile, "those composed by my two cousins, Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai and Lin Tai-yü, differ in excellence from those of all the rest; and neither I, stupid as I am, nor my sisters can attain their standard." Lin Tao-yü had, in point of fact, made up her mind to display, on this evening, her extraordinary abilities to their best advantage, and to put down every one else, but contrary to her expectations the Chia consort had expressed her desire that no more than a single stanza should be written on each tablet, so that unable, after all, to disregard her directions by writing anything in excess, she had no help but to compose a pentameter stanza, in an offhand way, merely with the intent of complying with her wishes. Pao-yü had by this time not completed his task. He had just finished two stanzas on the Hsiao Hsiang Lodge and the Heng Wu garden, and was just then engaged in composing a verse on the "Happy red Court." In his draft figured a line: "The (leaves) of jade-like green in spring are yet rolled up," which Pao-ch'ai stealthily observed as she turned her eyes from side to side; and availing herself of the very first moment, when none of the company could notice her, she gave him a nudge. "As her highness," she remarked, "doesn't relish the four characters, representing the red (flowers are) fragrant, and the green (banana leaves) like jade, she changed them, just a while back, for 'the joyful red and gladsome green;' and if you deliberately now again employ these two words 'jade-like green,' won't it look as if you were bent upon being at variance with her? Besides, very many are the old books, in which the banana leaves form the theme, so you had better think of another line and substitute it and have done with it!" When Pao-yü heard the suggestion made by Pao-ch'ai, he speedily replied, as he wiped off the perspiration: "I can't at all just at present call to mind any passage from the contents of some old book." "Just simply take," proposed Pao-ch'ai smilingly, "the character jade in jade-like green and change it into the character wax, that's all." "Does 'green wax,'" Pao-yü inquired, "come out from anywhere?" Pao-ch'ai gently smacked her lips and nodded her head as she laughed. "I fear," she said, "that if, on an occasion like to-night, you show no more brains than this, by and by when you have to give any answers in the golden hall, to the questions (of the examiner), you will, really, forget (the very first four names) of Chao, Oh'ien, Sun and Li (out of the hundred)! What, have you so much as forgotten the first line of the poem by Han Yü, of the T'ang dynasty, on the Banana leaf: "Cold is the candle and without a flame, the green wax dry?" On hearing these words, Pao-yü's mind suddenly became enlightened. "What a fool I am!" he added with a simper; "I couldn't for the moment even remember the lines, ready-made though they were and staring at me in my very eyes! Sister, you really can be styled my teacher, little though you may have taught me, and I'll henceforward address you by no other name than 'teacher,' and not call you 'sister' any more!" "Don't you yet hurry to go on," Pao-ch'ai again observed in a gentle tone of voice sneeringly, "but keep on calling me elder sister and younger sister? Who's your sister? that one over there in a yellow coat is your sister!" But apprehending, as she bandied these jokes, lest she might be wasting his time, she felt constrained to promptly move away; whereupon Pao-yü continued the ode he had been working at, and brought it to a close, writing in all three stanzas. Tai-yü had not had so far an opportunity of making a display of her ability, and was feeling at heart in a very dejected mood; but when she perceived that Pao-yü was having intense trouble in conceiving what he had to write, and she found, upon walking up to the side of the table, that he had only one stanza short, that on "the sign on the apricot tree is visible," she consequently bade him copy out clean the first three odes, while she herself composed a stanza, which she noted down on a slip of paper, rumpled up into a ball, and threw just in front of Pao-yü. As soon as Pao-yü opened it and glanced at it, he realised that it was a hundred times better than his own three stanzas, and transcribing it without loss of time, in a bold writing, he handed up his compositions. On perusal, the Chia Consort read what follows. By Pao-yü, on: "A phoenix comes with dignified air:" The bamboos just now don that jadelike grace, Which worthy makes them the pheasant to face; Each culm so tender as if to droop fain, Each one so verdant, in aspect so cool, The curb protects, from the steps wards the pool. The pervious screens the tripod smell restrain. The shadow will be strewn, mind do not shake And (Hsieh) from her now long fine dream (awake)! On "the pure fragrance of the Ligularia and Iris Florentina:" Hengs and Wus the still park permeate; The los and pis their sweet perfume enhance; And supple charms the third spring flowers ornate; Softly is wafted one streak of fragrance! A light mist doth becloud the tortuous way! With moist the clothes bedews, that verdure cold! The pond who ever sinuous could hold? Dreams long and subtle, dream the household Hsieh. On "the happy red and joyful green:" Stillness pervades the deep pavilion on a lengthy day. The green and red, together matched, transcendent grace display. Unfurled do still remain in spring the green and waxlike leaves. No sleep yet seeks the red-clad maid, though night's hours be far-spent, But o'er the rails lo, she reclines, dangling her ruddy sleeves; Against the stone she leans shrouded by taintless scent, And stands the quarter facing whence doth blow the eastern wind! Her lord and master must look up to her with feelings kind. On "the sign on the apricot tree is visible:" The apricot tree sign to drink wayfarers doth invite; A farm located on a hill, lo! yonder strikes the sight! And water caltrops, golden lotus, geese, as well as flows, And mulberry and elm trees which afford rest to swallows. That wide extent of spring leeks with verdure covers the ground; And o'er ten li the paddy blossom fragrance doth abound. In days of plenty there's a lack of dearth and of distress, And what need then is there to plough and weave with such briskness? When the Chia consort had done with the perusal, excessive joy filled her heart. "He has indeed made progress!" she exclaimed, and went on to point at the verses on "the sign on the apricot tree," as being the crowning piece of the four stanzas. In due course, she with her own hands changed the motto "a cottage in the hills where dolichos is bleached" into "the paddy-scented village;" and bidding also T'an Ch'un to take the several tens of stanzas written then, and to transcribe them separately on ornamented silk paper, she commanded a eunuch to send them to the outer quarters. And when Chia Cheng and the other men perused them, one and all sung their incessant praise, while Chia Cheng, on his part, sent in some complimentary message, with regard to her return home on a visit. Yuan Ch'un went further and gave orders that luscious wines, a ham and other such presents should be conferred upon Pao-yü, as well as upon Chia Lan. This Chia Lan was as yet at this time a perfect youth without any knowledge of things in general, so that all that he could do was to follow the example of his mother, and imitate his uncle in performing the conventional rites. At the very moment that Chia Se felt unable, along with a company of actresses, to bear the ordeal of waiting on the ground floor of the two-storied building, he caught sight of a eunuch come running at a flying pace. "The composition of verses is over," he said, "so quick give me the programme;" whereupon Chia Se hastened to present the programme as well as a roll of the names of the twelve girls. And not a long interval elapsed before four plays were chosen; No. 1 being the Imperial Banquet; No. 2 Begging (the weaver goddess) for skill in needlework; No. 3 The spiritual match; and No. 4 the Parting spirit. Chia Se speedily lent a hand in the getting up, and the preparations for the performance, and each of the girls sang with a voice sufficient to split the stones and danced in the manner of heavenly spirits; and though their exterior was that of the characters in which they were dressed up for the play, their acting nevertheless represented, in a perfect manner, both sorrow as well as joy. As soon as the performance was brought to a close, a eunuch walked in holding a golden salver containing cakes, sweets, and the like, and inquired who was Ling Kuan; and Chia Se readily concluding that these articles were presents bestowed upon Ling Kuan, made haste to take them over, as he bade Ling Kuan prostrate herself. "The honourable consort," the eunuch further added, "directs that Ling Kuan, who is the best actress of the lot, should sing two more songs; any two will do, she does not mind what they are." Chia Se at once expressed his obedience, and felt constrained to urge Ling Kuan to sing the two ballads entitled: "The walk through the garden" and "Frightened out of a dream." But Ling Kuan asserted that these two ballads had not originally been intended for her own role; and being firm in her refusal to accede and insisting upon rendering the two songs "The Mutual Promise" and "The Mutual Abuse," Chia Se found it hard to bring her round, and had no help but to let her have her own way. The Chia consort was so extremely enchanted with her that she gave directions that she should not be treated harshly, and that this girl should receive a careful training, while besides the fixed number of presents, she gave her two rolls of palace silk, two purses, gold and silver ingots, and presents in the way of eatables. Subsequently, when the banquet had been cleared, and she once more prosecuted her visit through those places to which she had not been, she quite accidentally espied the Buddhist Temple encircled by hills, and promptly rinsing her hands, she walked in and burnt incense and worshipped Buddha. She also composed the device for a tablet, "a humane boat on the (world's) bitter sea," and went likewise so far as to show special acts of additional grace to a company of ascetic nuns and Taoist priestesses. A eunuch came in a short while and reverently fell on his knees. "The presents are all in readiness," he reported, "and may it please you to inspect them and to distribute them, in compliance with custom;" and presented to her a list, which the Chia consort perused from the very top throughout without raising any objection, and readily commanding that action should be taken according to the list, a eunuch descended and issued the gifts one after another. The presents for dowager lady Chia consisted, it may be added, of two sceptres, one of gold, the other of jade, with "may your wishes be fulfilled" inscribed on them; a staff made of lign-aloes; a string of chaplet beads of Chia-nan fragrant wood; four rolls of imperial satins with words "Affluence and honours" and Perennial Spring (woven in them); four rolls of imperial silk with Perennial Happiness and Longevity; two shoes of purple gold bullion, representing a pen, an ingot and "as you like;" and ten silver ingots with the device "Felicitous Blessings." While the two shares for madame Hsing and madame Wang were only short of hers by the sceptres and staffs, four things in all. Chia She, Chia Cheng and the others had each apportioned to him a work newly written by the Emperor, two boxes of superior ink, and gold and silver cups, two pairs of each; their other gifts being identical with those above. Pao-ch'ai, Tai-yü, all the sisters and the rest were assigned each a copy of a new book, a fine slab and two pair of gold and silver ornaments of a novel kind and original shape; Pao-yü likewise receiving the same presents. Chia Lan's gifts consisted of two necklets, one of gold, the other of silver, and of two pair of gold ingots. Mrs. Yu, widow Li Wan, lady Feng and the others had each of them, four ingots of gold and silver; and, in the way of keepsakes, four pieces of silk. There were, in addition, presents consisting of twenty-four pieces of silk and a thousand strings of good cash to be allotted to the nurses, and waiting-maids, in the apartments of dowager lady Chia, madame Wang and of the respective sisters; while Chia Chen, Chia Lien, Chia Huan, Chia Jung and the rest had, every one, for presents, a piece of silk, and a pair of gold and silver ingots. As regards the other gifts, there were a hundred rolls of various coloured silks, a thousand ounces of pure silver, and several bottles of imperial wine, intended to be bestowed upon all the men-servants of the mansions, on the East and the West, as well as upon those who had been in the garden overseeing works, arranging the decorations, and in waiting to answer calls, and upon those who looked after the theatres and managed the lanterns. There being, besides, five hundred strings of pure cash for the cooks, waiters, jugglers and hundreds of actors and every kind of domestic. The whole party had finished giving expression to their thanks for her bounty, when the managers and eunuchs respectfully announced: "It is already a quarter to three, and may it please your Majesty to turn back your imperial chariot;" whereupon, much against her will, the Chia consort's eyes brimmed over, and she once more gave vent to tears. Forcing herself however again to put on a smile, she clasped old lady Chia's and madame Wang's hands, and could not bring herself to let them go; while she repeatedly impressed upon their minds: that there was no need to give way to any solicitude, and that they should take good care of their healths; that the grace of the present emperor was so vast, that once a month he would grant permission for them to enter the palace and pay her a visit. "It is easy enough for us to see each other," (she said,) "and why should we indulge in any excess of grief? But when his majesty in his heavenly generosity allows me another time to return home, you shouldn't go in for such pomp and extravagance." Dowager lady Chia and the other inmates had already cried to such an extent that sobs choked their throats and they could with difficulty give utterance to speech. But though the Chia consort could not reconcile herself to the separation, the usages in vogue in the imperial household could not be disregarded or infringed, so that she had no alternative but to stifle the anguish of her heart, to mount her chariot, and take her departure. The whole family experienced meanwhile a hard task before they succeeded in consoling the old lady and madame Wang and in supporting them away out of the garden. But as what follows is not ascertained, the next chapter will disclose it. CHAPTER XIX. In the vehemence of her feelings, Hua (Hsi Jen) on a quiet evening admonishes Pao-yü. While (the spell) of affection continues unbroken, Pao-yü, on a still day, perceives the fragrance emitted from Tai-yü's person. The Chia consort, we must now go on to explain, returned to the Palace, and the next day, on her appearance in the presence of His Majesty, she thanked him for his bounty and gave him furthermore an account of her experiences on her visit home. His Majesty's dragon countenance was much elated, and he also issued from the privy store coloured satins, gold and silver and such like articles to be presented to Chia Cheng and the other officials in the various households of her relatives. But dispensing with minute details about them, we will now revert to the two mansions of Jung and Ning. With the extreme strain on mind and body for successive days, the strength of one and all was, in point of fact, worn out and their respective energies exhausted. And it was besides after they had been putting by the various decorations and articles of use for two or three days, that they, at length, got through the work. Lady Feng was the one who had most to do, and whose responsibilities were greatest. The others could possibly steal a few leisure moments and retire to rest, while she was the sole person who could not slip away. In the second place, naturally anxious as she was to excel and both to fall in people's estimation, she put up with the strain just as if she were like one of those who had nothing to attend to. But the one who had the least to do and had the most leisure was Pao-yü. As luck would have it on this day, at an early hour, Hsi Jen's mother came again in person and told dowager lady Chia that she would take Hsi Jen home to drink a cup of tea brewed in the new year and that she would return in the evening. For this reason Pao-yü was only in the company of all the waiting-maids, throwing dice, playing at chess and amusing himself. But while he was in the room playing with them with a total absence of zest, he unawares perceived a few waiting-maids arrive, who informed him that their senior master Mr. Chen, of the Eastern Mansion, had come to invite him to go and see a theatrical performance, and the fireworks, which were to be let off. Upon hearing these words, Pao-yü speedily asked them to change his clothes; but just as he was ready to start, presents of cream, steamed with sugar, arrived again when least expected from the Chia Consort, and Pao-yü recollecting with what relish Hsi Jen had partaken of this dish on the last occasion forthwith bid them keep it for her; while he went himself and told dowager lady Chia that he was going over to see the play. The plays sung over at Chia Chen's consisted, who would have thought it, of "Ting L'ang recognises his father," and "Huang Po-ying deploys the spirits for battle," and in addition to these, "Sung Hsing-che causes great commotion in the heavenly palace;" "Ghiang T'ai-kung kills the general and deifies him," and other such like. Soon appeared the spirits and devils in a confused crowd on the stage, and suddenly also became visible the whole band of sprites and goblins, among which were some waving streamers, as they went past in a procession, invoking Buddha and burning incense. The sound of the gongs and drums and of shouts and cries were audible at a distance beyond the lane; and in the whole street, one and all extolled the performance as exceptionally grand, and that the like could never have been had in the house of any other family. Pao-yü, noticing that the commotion and bustle had reached a stage so unbearable to his taste, speedily betook himself, after merely sitting for a little while, to other places in search of relaxation and fun. First of all, he entered the inner rooms, and after spending some time in chatting and laughing with Mrs. Yu, the waiting-maids, and secondary wives, he eventually took his departure out of the second gate; and as Mrs. Yu and her companions were still under the impression that he was going out again to see the play, they let him speed on his way, without so much as keeping an eye over him. Chia Chen, Chia Lien, Hsúeh P'an and the others were bent upon guessing enigmas, enforcing the penalties and enjoying themselves in a hundred and one ways, so that even allowing that they had for a moment noticed that he was not occupying his seat, they must merely have imagined that he had gone inside and not, in fact, worried their minds about him. And as for the pages, who had come along with Pao-yü, those who were a little advanced in years, knowing very well that Pao-yü would, on an occasion like the present, be sure not to be going before dusk, stealthily therefore took advantage of his absence, those, who could, to gamble for money, and others to go to the houses of relatives and friends to drink of the new year tea, so that what with gambling and drinking the whole bevy surreptitiously dispersed, waiting for dusk before they came back; while those, who were younger, had all crept into the green rooms to watch the excitement; with the result that Pao-yü perceiving not one of them about bethought himself of a small reading room, which existed in previous days on this side, in which was suspended a picture of a beauty so artistically executed as to look life-like. "On such a bustling day as this," he reasoned, "it's pretty certain, I fancy, that there will be no one in there; and that beautiful person must surely too feel lonely, so that it's only right that I should go and console her a bit." With these thoughts, he hastily betook himself towards the side-house yonder, and as soon as he came up to the window, he heard the sound of groans in the room. Pao-yü was really quite startled. "What!" (he thought), "can that beautiful girl, possibly, have come to life!" and screwing up his courage, he licked a hole in the paper of the window and peeped in. It was not she, however, who had come to life, but Ming Yen holding down a girl and likewise indulging in what the Monitory Dream Fairy had taught him. "Dreadful!" exclaimed Pao-yü, aloud, unable to repress himself, and, stamping one of his feet, he walked into the door to the terror of both of them, who parting company, shivered with fear, like clothes that are being shaken. Ming Yen perceiving that it was Pao-yü promptly fell on his knees and piteously implored for pardon. "What! in broad daylight! what do you mean by it? Were your master Mr. Chen to hear of it, would you die or live?" asked Pao-yü, as he simultaneously cast a glance at the servant-girl, who although not a beauty was anyhow so spick and span, and possessed besides a few charms sufficient to touch the heart. From shame, her face was red and her ears purple, while she lowered her head and uttered not a syllable. Pao-yü stamped his foot. "What!" he shouted, "don't you yet bundle yourself away!" This simple remark suggested the idea to the girl's mind who ran off, as if she had wings to fly with; but as Pao-yü went also so far as to go in pursuit of her, calling out: "Don't be afraid, I'm not one to tell anyone," Ming Yen was so exasperated that he cried, as he went after them, "My worthy ancestor, this is distinctly telling people about it." "How old is that servant girl?" Pao-yü having asked; "She's, I expect, no more than sixteen or seventeen," Ming Yen rejoined. "Well, if you haven't gone so far as to even ascertain her age," Pao-yü observed, "you're sure to know still less about other things; and it makes it plain enough that her acquaintance with you is all vain and futile! What a pity! what a pity!" He then went on to enquire what her name was; and "Were I," continued Ming Yen smiling, "to tell you about her name it would involve a long yarn; it's indeed a novel and strange story! She relates that while her mother was nursing her, she dreamt a dream and obtained in this dream possession of a piece of brocaded silk, on which were designs, in variegated colours, representing opulence and honour, and a continuous line of the character Wan; and that this reason accounts for the name of Wan Erh, which was given her." "This is really strange!" Pao-yü exclaimed with a grin, after lending an ear to what he had to say; "and she is bound, I think, by and by to have a good deal of good fortune!" These words uttered, he plunged in deep thought for a while, and Ming Yen having felt constrained to inquire: "Why aren't you, Mr. Secundus, watching a theatrical performance of this excellent kind?" "I had been looking on for ever so long," Pao-yü replied, "until I got quite weary; and had just come out for a stroll, when I happened to meet you two. But what's to be done now?" Ming Yen gave a faint smile. "As there's no one here to know anything about it," he added, "I'll stealthily take you, Mr. Secundus, for a walk outside the city walls; and we'll come back shortly, before they've got wind of it." "That won't do," Pao-yü demurred, "we must be careful, or else some beggar might kidnap us away; besides, were they to come to hear of it, there'll be again a dreadful row; and isn't it better that we should go to some nearer place, from which we could, after all, return at once?" "As for some nearer place," Ming Yen observed; "to whose house can we go? It's really no easy matter!" "My idea is," Pao-yü suggested with a smirk, "that we should simply go, and find sister Hua, and see what she's up to at home." "Yes! Yes!" Ming Yen replied laughingly; "the fact is I had forgotten all about her home; but should it reach their ears," he continued, "they'll say that it was I who led you, Mr. Secundus, astray, and they'll beat me!" "I'm here for you!" Pao-yü having assured him; Ming Yen at these words led the horses round, and the two of them speedily made their exit by the back gate. Luckily Hsi Jen's house was not far off. It was no further than half a li's distance, so that in a twinkle they had already reached the front of the door, and Ming Yen was the first to walk in and to call for Hsi Jen's eldest brother Hua Tzu-fang. Hsi Jen's mother had, on this occasion, united in her home Hsi Jen, several of her sister's daughters, as well as a few of her nieces, and they were engaged in partaking of fruits and tea, when they heard some one outside call out, "Brother Hua." Hua Tzu-fang lost no time in rushing out; and upon looking and finding that it was the two of them, the master and his servant, he was so taken by surprise that his fears could not be set at rest. Promptly, he clasped Pao-yü in his arms and dismounted him, and coming into the court, he shouted out at the top of his voice: "Mr. Pao has come." The other persons heard the announcement of his arrival, with equanimity, but when it reached Hsi Jen's ears, she truly felt at such a loss to fathom the object of his visit that issuing hastily out of the room, she came to meet Pao-yü, and as she laid hold of him: "Why did you come?" she asked. "I felt awfully dull," Pao-yü rejoined with a smile, "and came to see what you were up to." Hsi Jen at these words banished, at last, all anxiety from her mind. "You're again up to your larks," she observed, "but what's the aim of your visit? Who else has come along with him?" she at the same time went on to question Ming Yen. "All the others know nothing about it!" explained Ming Yen exultingly; "only we two do, that's all." When Hsi Jen heard this remark, she gave way afresh to solicitous fears: "This is dreadful!" she added; "for were you to come across any one from the house, or to meet master; or were, in the streets, people to press against you, or horses to collide with you, as to make (his horse) shy, and he were to fall, would that too be a joke? The gall of both of you is larger than a peck measure; but it's all you, Ming Yen, who has incited him, and when I go back, I'll surely tell the nurses to beat you." Ming Yen pouted his mouth. "Mr. Secundus," he pleaded, "abused me and beat me, as he bade me bring him here, and now he shoves the blame on my shoulders! 'Don't let us go,' I suggested; 'but if you do insist, well then let us go and have done.'" Hua Tzu-fang promptly interceded. "Let things alone," he said; "now that they're already here, there's no need whatever of much ado. The only thing is that our mean house with its thatched roof is both so crammed and so filthy that how could you, sir, sit in it!" Hsi Jen's mother also came out at an early period to receive him, and Hsi Jen pulled Pao-yü in. Once inside the room, Pao-yü perceived three or five girls, who, as soon as they caught sight of him approaching, all lowered their heads, and felt so bashful that their faces were suffused with blushes. But as both Hua Tzu-fang and his mother were afraid that Pao-yü would catch cold, they pressed him to take a seat on the stove-bed, and hastened to serve a fresh supply of refreshments, and to at once bring him a cup of good tea. "You needn't be flurrying all for nothing," Hsi Jen smilingly interposed; "I, naturally, should know; and there's no use of even laying out any fruits, as I daren't recklessly give him anything to eat." Saying this, she simultaneously took her own cushion and laid it on a stool, and after Pao-yü took a seat on it, she placed the footstove she had been using, under his feet; and producing, from a satchet, two peach-blossom-scented small cakes, she opened her own hand-stove and threw them into the fire; which done, she covered it well again and placed it in Pao-yü's lap. And eventually, she filled her own tea-cup with tea and presented it to Pao-yü, while, during this time, her mother and sister had been fussing about, laying out in fine array a tableful of every kind of eatables. Hsi Jen noticed that there were absolutely no things that he could eat, but she felt urged to say with a smile: "Since you've come, it isn't right that you should go empty away; and you must, whether the things be good or bad, taste a little, so that it may look like a visit to my house!" As she said this, she forthwith took several seeds of the fir-cone, and cracking off the thin skin, she placed them in a handkerchief and presented them to Pao-yü. But Pao-yü, espying that Hsi Jen's two eyes were slightly red, and that the powder was shiny and moist, quietly therefore inquired of Hsi Jen, "Why do you cry for no rhyme or reason?" "Why should I cry?" Hsi Jen laughed; "something just got into my eyes and I rubbed them." By these means she readily managed to evade detection; but seeing that Pao-yü wore a deep red archery-sleeved pelisse, ornamented with gold dragons, and lined with fur from foxes' ribs and a grey sable fur surtout with a fringe round the border. "What! have you," she asked, "put on again your new clothes for? specially to come here? and didn't they inquire of you where you were going?" "I had changed," Pao-yü explained with a grin, "as Mr. Chen had invited me to go over and look at the play." "Well, sit a while and then go back;" Hsi Jen continued as she nodded her head; "for this isn't the place for you to come to!" "You'd better be going home now," Pao-yü suggested smirkingly; "where I've again kept something good for you." "Gently," smiled Hsi Jen, "for were you to let them hear, what figure would we cut?" And with these, words, she put out her hand and unclasping from Pao-yü's neck the jade of Spiritual Perception, she faced her cousins and remarked exultingly. "Here! see for yourselves; look at this and learn! When I repeatedly talked about it, you all thought it extraordinary, and were anxious to have a glance at it; to-day, you may gaze on it with all your might, for whatever precious thing you may by and by come to see will really never excel such an object as this!" When she had finished speaking, she handed it over to them, and after they had passed it round for inspection, she again fastened it properly on Pao-yü's neck, and also bade her brother go and hire a small carriage, or engage a small chair, and escort Pao-yü back home. "If I see him back," Hua Tzu-fang remarked, "there would be no harm, were he even to ride his horse!" "It isn't because of harm," Hsi Jen replied; "but because he may come across some one from the house." Hua Tzu-fang promptly went and bespoke a small chair; and when it came to the door, the whole party could not very well detain him, and they of course had to see Pao-yü out of the house; while Hsi Jen, on the other hand, snatched a few fruits and gave them to Ming Yen; and as she at the same time pressed in his hand several cash to buy crackers with to let off, she enjoined him not to tell any one as he himself would likewise incur blame. As she uttered these words, she straightway escorted Pao-yü as far as outside the door, from whence having seen him mount into the sedan chair, she dropped the curtain; whereupon Ming Yen and her brother, the two of them, led the horses and followed behind in his wake. Upon reaching the street where the Ning mansion was situated, Ming Yen told the chair to halt, and said to Hua Tzu-fang, "It's advisable that I should again go, with Mr. Secundus, into the Eastern mansion, to show ourselves before we can safely betake ourselves home; for if we don't, people will suspect!" Hua Tzu-fang, upon hearing that there was good reason in what he said, promptly clasped Pao-yü out of the chair and put him on the horse, whereupon after Pao-yü smilingly remarked: "Excuse me for the trouble I've surely put you to," they forthwith entered again by the back gate; but putting aside all details, we will now confine ourselves to Pao-yü. After he had walked out of the door, the several waiting-maids in his apartments played and laughed with greater zest and with less restraint. Some there were who played at chess, others who threw the dice or had a game of cards; and they covered the whole floor with the shells of melon-seeds they were cracking, when dame Li, his nurse, happened to come in, propping herself on a staff, to pay her respects and to see Pao-yü, and perceiving that Pao-yü was not at home and that the servant-girls were only bent upon romping, she felt intensely disgusted. "Since I've left this place," she therefore exclaimed with a sigh, "and don't often come here, you've become more and more unmannerly; while the other nurse does still less than ever venture to expostulate with you; Pao-yü is like a candlestick eighty feet high, shedding light on others, and throwing none upon himself! All he knows is to look down upon people as being filthy; and yet this is his room and he allows you to put it topsy-turvey, and to become more and more unmindful of decorum!" These servant-girls were well aware that Pao-yü was not particular in these respects, and that in the next place nurse Li, having pleaded old age, resigned her place and gone home, had nowadays no control over them, so that they simply gave their minds to romping and joking, and paid no heed whatever to her. Nurse Li however still kept on asking about Pao-yü, "How much rice he now ate at one meal? and at what time he went to sleep?" to which questions, the servant-girls replied quite at random; some there being too who observed: "What a dreadful despicable old thing she is!" "In this covered bowl," she continued to inquire, "is cream, and why not give it to me to eat?" and having concluded these words, she took it up and there and then began eating it. "Be quick, and leave it alone!" a servant-girl expostulated, "that, he said, was kept in order to be given to Hsi Jen; and on his return, when he again gets into a huff, you, old lady, must, on your own motion, confess to having eaten it, and not involve us in any way as to have to bear his resentment." Nurse Li, at these words, felt both angry and ashamed. "I can't believe," she forthwith remarked, "that he has become so bad at heart! Not to speak of the milk I've had, I have, in fact every right to even something more expensive than this; for is it likely that he holds Hsi Jen dearer than myself? It can't forsooth be that he doesn't bear in mind how that I've brought him up to be a big man, and how that he has eaten my blood transformed into milk and grown up to this age! and will be because I'm now having a bowl of milk of his be angry on that score! I shall, yes, eat it, and we'll see what he'll do! I don't know what you people think of Hsi Jen, but she was a lowbred girl, whom I've with my own hands raised up! and what fine object indeed was she!" As she spoke, she flew into a temper, and taking the cream she drank the whole of it. "They don't know how to speak properly!" another servant-girl interposed sarcastically, "and it's no wonder that you, old lady, should get angry! Pao-yü still sends you, venerable dame, presents as a proof of his gratitude, and is it possible that he will feel displeased for such a thing like this?" "You girls shouldn't also pretend to be artful flatterers to cajole me!" nurse Li added; "do you imagine that I'm not aware of the dismissal, the other day, of Hsi Hsüeh, on account of a cup of tea? and as it's clear enough that I've incurred blame, I'll come by and by and receive it!" Having said this, she went off in a dudgeon, but not a long interval elapsed before Pao-yü returned, and gave orders to go and fetch Hsi Jen; and perceiving Ching Ling reclining on the bed perfectly still: "I presume she's ill," Pao-yü felt constrained to inquire, "or if she isn't ill, she must have lost at cards." "Not so!" observed Chiu Wen; "she had been a winner, but dame Li came in quite casually and muddled her so that she lost; and angry at this she rushed off to sleep." "Don't place yourselves," Pao-yü smiled, "on the same footing as nurse Li, and if you were to let her alone, everything will be all right." These words were still on his lips when Hsi Jen arrived. After the mutual salutations, Hsi Jen went on to ask of Pao-yü: "Where did you have your repast? and what time did you come back?" and to present likewise, on behalf of her mother and sister, her compliments to all the girls, who were her companions. In a short while, she changed her costume and divested herself of her fineries, and Pao-yü bade them fetch the cream. "Nurse Li has eaten it," the servant-girls rejoined, and as Pao-yü was on the point of making some remark Hsi Jen hastened to interfere, laughing the while; "Is it really this that you had kept for me? many thanks for the trouble; the other day, when I had some, I found it very toothsome, but after I had partaken of it, I got a pain in the stomach, and was so much upset, that it was only after I had brought it all up that I felt all right. So it's as well that she has had it, for, had it been kept here, it would have been wasted all for no use! What I fancy are dry chestnuts; and while you clean a few for me, I'll go and lay the bed!" Pao-yü upon hearing these words credited them as true, so that he discarded all thought of the cream and fetched the chestnuts, which he, with his own hands, selected and pealed. Perceiving at the same time that none of the party were present in the room, he put on a smile and inquired of Hsi Jen: "Who were those persons dressed in red to day?" "They're my two cousins on my mother's side," Hsi Jen explained, and hearing this, Pao-yü sang their praise as he heaved a couple of sighs. "What are you sighing for?" Hsi Jen remarked. "I know the secret reasons of your heart; it's I fancy because she isn't fit to wear red!" "It isn't that," Pao-yü protested smilingly, "it isn't that; if such a person as that isn't good enough to be dressed in red, who would forsooth presume to wear it? It's because I find her so really lovely! and if we could, after all, manage to get her into our family, how nice it would be then!" Hsi Jen gave a sardonic smile. "That it's my own fate to be a slave doesn't matter, but is it likely that the destiny of even my very relatives could be to become one and all of them bond servants? But you should certainly set your choice upon some really beautiful girl, for she would in that case be good enough to enter your house." "Here you are again with your touchiness!" Pao-yü eagerly exclaimed smiling, "if I said that she should come to our house, does it necessarily imply that she should be a servant? and wouldn't it do were I to mention that she should come as a relative!" "That too couldn't exalt her to be a fit match for you!" rejoined Hsi Jen; but Pao-yü being loth to continue the conversation, simply busied himself with cleaning the chestnuts. "How is it you utter not a word?" Hsi Jen laughed; "I expect it's because I just offended you by my inconsiderate talk! But if by and by you have your purpose fixed on it, just spend a few ounces of silver to purchase them with, and bring them in and have done!" "How would you have one make any reply?" Pao-yü smilingly rejoined; "all I did was to extol her charms; for she's really fit to have been born in a deep hall and spacious court as this; and it isn't for such foul things as myself and others to contrariwise spend our days in this place!" "Though deprived of this good fortune," Hsi Jen explained, "she's nevertheless also petted and indulged and the jewel of my maternal uncle and my aunt! She's now seventeen years of age, and everything in the way of trousseau has been got ready, and she's to get married next year." Upon hearing the two words "get married," he could not repress himself from again ejaculating: "Hai hai!" but while he was in an unhappy frame of mind, he once more heard Hsi Jen remark as she heaved a sigh: "Ever since I've come here, we cousins haven't all these years been able to get to live together, and now that I'm about to return home, they, on the other hand, will all be gone!" Pao-yü, realising that there lurked in this remark some meaning or other, was suddenly so taken aback that dropping the chestnuts, he inquired: "How is it that you now want to go back?" "I was present to-day," Hsi Jen explained, "when mother and brother held consultation together, and they bade me be patient for another year, and that next year they'll come up and redeem me out of service!" Pao-yü, at these words, felt the more distressed. "Why do they want to redeem you?" he consequently asked. "This is a strange question!" Hsi Jen retorted, "for I can't really be treated as if I were the issue born in this homestead of yours! All the members of my family are elsewhere, and there's only myself in this place, so that how could I end my days here?" "If I don't let you go, it will verily be difficult for you to get away!" Pao-yü replied. "There has never been such a principle of action!" urged Hsi Jen; "even in the imperial palace itself, there's a fixed rule, by which possibly every certain number of years a selection (of those who have to go takes place), and every certain number of years a new batch enters; and there's no such practice as that of keeping people for ever; not to speak of your own home." Pao-yü realised, after reflection, that she, in point of fact, was right, and he went on to observe: "Should the old lady not give you your release, it will be impossible for you to get off." "Why shouldn't she release me?" Hsi Jen questioned. "Am I really so very extraordinary a person as to have perchance made such an impression upon her venerable ladyship and my lady that they will be positive in not letting me go? They may, in all likelihood, give my family some more ounces of silver to keep me here; that possibly may come about. But, in truth, I'm also a person of the most ordinary run, and there are many more superior to me, yea very many! Ever since my youth up, I've been in her old ladyship's service; first by waiting upon Miss Shih for several years, and recently by being in attendance upon you for another term of years; and now that our people will come to redeem me, I should, as a matter of right, be told to go. My idea is that even the very redemption money won't be accepted, and that they will display such grace as to let me go at once. And, as for being told that I can't be allowed to go as I'm so diligent in my service to you, that's a thing that can on no account come about! My faithful attendance is an obligation of my duties, and is no exceptional service! and when I'm gone you'll again have some other faithful attendant, and it isn't likely that when I'm no more here, you'll find it impracticable to obtain one!" After Pao-yü had listened to these various arguments, which proved the reasonableness of her going and the unreasonableness of any detention, he felt his heart more than ever a prey to distress. "In spite of all you say," he therefore continued, "the sole desire of my heart is to detain you; and I have no doubt but that the old lady will speak to your mother about it; and if she were to give your mother ample money, she'll, of course, not feel as if she could very well with any decency take you home!" "My mother won't naturally have the audacity to be headstrong!" Hsi Jen ventured, "not to speak besides of the nice things, which may be told her and the lots of money she may, in addition, be given; but were she even not to be paid any compliments, and not so much as a single cash given her, she won't, if you set your mind upon keeping me here, presume not to comply with your wishes, were it also against my inclination. One thing however; our family would never rely upon prestige, and trust upon honorability to do anything so domineering as this! for this isn't like anything else, which, because you take a fancy to it, a hundred per cent profit can be added, and it obtained for you! This action can be well taken if the seller doesn't suffer loss! But in the present instance, were they to keep me back for no rhyme or reason, it would also be of no benefit to yourself; on the contrary, they would be instrumental in keeping us blood relatives far apart; a thing the like of which, I feel positive that dowager lady Chia and my lady will never do!" After lending an ear to this argument, Pao-yü cogitated within himself for a while. "From what you say," he then observed, "when you say you'll go, it means that you'll go for certain!" "Yes, that I'll go for certain," Hsi Jen rejoined. "Who would have anticipated," Pao-yü, after these words, mused in his own heart, "that a person like her would have shown such little sense of gratitude, and such a lack of respect! Had I," he then remarked aloud with a sigh, "been aware, at an early date, that your whole wish would have been to go, I wouldn't, in that case, have brought you over! But when you're away, I shall remain alone, a solitary spirit!" As he spoke, he lost control over his temper, and, getting into bed, he went to sleep. The fact is that when Hsi Jen had been at home, and she heard her mother and brother express their intention of redeeming her back, she there and then observed that were she even at the point of death, she would not return home. "When in past days," she had argued, "you had no rice to eat, there remained myself, who was still worth several taels; and hadn't I urged you to sell me, wouldn't I have seen both father and mother die of starvation under my very eyes? and you've now had the good fortune of selling me into this place, where I'm fed and clothed just like a mistress, and where I'm not beaten by day, nor abused by night! Besides, though now father be no more, you two have anyhow by putting things straight again, so adjusted the family estate that it has resumed its primitive condition. And were you, in fact, still in straitened circumstances, and you could by redeeming me back, make again some more money, that would be well and good; but the truth is that there's no such need, and what would be the use for you to redeem me at such a time as this? You should temporarily treat me as dead and gone, and shouldn't again recall any idea of redeeming me!" Having in consequence indulged in a loud fit of crying, her mother and brother resolved, when they perceived her in this determined frame of mind, that for a fact there was no need for her to come out of service. What is more they had sold her under contract until death, in the distinct reliance that the Chia family, charitable and generous a family as it was, would, possibly, after no more than a few entreaties, make them a present of her person as well as the purchase money. In the second place, never had they in the Chia mansion ill-used any of those below; there being always plenty of grace and little of imperiousness. Besides, the servant-girls, who acted as personal attendants in the apartments of the old as well as of the young, were treated so far unlike the whole body of domestics in the household that the daughters even of an ordinary and penniless parentage could not have been so looked up to. And these considerations induced both the mother as well as her son to at once dispel the intention and not to redeem her, and when Pao-yü had subsequently paid them an unexpected visit, and the two of them (Pao-yü and Hsi Jen) were seen to be also on such terms, the mother and her son obtained a clearer insight into their relations, and still one more burden (which had pressed on their mind) fell to the ground, and as besides this was a contingency, which they had never reckoned upon, they both composed their hearts, and did not again entertain any idea of ransoming her. It must be noticed moreover that Hsi Jen had ever since her youth not been blind to the fact that Pao-yü had an extraordinary temperament, that he was self-willed and perverse, far even in excess of all young lads, and that he had, in addition, a good many peculiarities and many unspeakable defects. And as of late he had placed such reliance in the fond love of his grandmother that his father and mother even could not exercise any extreme control over him, he had become so much the more remiss, dissolute, selfish and unconcerned, not taking the least pleasure in what was proper, that she felt convinced, whenever she entertained the idea of tendering him advice, that he would not listen to her. On this day, by a strange coincidence, came about the discussion respecting her ransom, and she designedly made use, in the first instance, of deception with a view to ascertain his feelings, to suppress his temper, and to be able subsequently to extend to him some words of admonition; and when she perceived that Pao-yü had now silently gone to sleep, she knew that his feelings could not brook the idea of her return and that his temper had already subsided. She had never had, as far as she was concerned, any desire of eating chestnuts, but as she feared lest, on account of the cream, some trouble might arise, which might again lead to the same results as when Hsi Hsüeh drank the tea, she consequently made use of the pretence that she fancied chestnuts, in order to put off Pao-yü from alluding (to the cream) and to bring the matter speedily to an end. But telling forthwith the young waiting-maids to take the chestnuts away and eat them, she herself came and pushed Pao-yü; but at the sight of Pao-yü with the traces of tears on his face, she at once put on a smiling expression and said: "What's there in this to wound your heart? If you positively do wish to keep me, I shall, of course, not go away!" Pao-yü noticed that these words contained some hidden purpose, and readily observed: "Do go on and tell me what else I can do to succeed in keeping you here, for of my own self I find it indeed difficult to say how!" "Of our friendliness all along," Hsi Jen smilingly rejoined, "there's naturally no need to speak; but, if you have this day made up your mind to retain me here, it isn't through this friendship that you'll succeed in doing so. But I'll go on and mention three distinct conditions, and, if you really do accede to my wishes, you'll then have shown an earnest desire to keep me here, and I won't go, were even a sword to be laid on my neck!" "Do tell me what these conditions are," Pao-yü pressed her with alacrity, as he smiled, "and I'll assent to one and all. My dear sister, my own dear sister, not to speak of two or three, but even two or three hundred of them I'm quite ready to accept. All I entreat you is that you and all of you should combine to watch over me and take care of me, until some day when I shall be transformed into flying ashes; but flying ashes are, after all, not opportune, as they have form and substance and they likewise possess sense, but until I've been metamorphosed into a streak of subtle smoke. And when the wind shall have with one puff dispelled me, all of you then will be unable to attend to me, just as much as I myself won't be able to heed you. You will, when that time comes, let me go where I please, as I'll let you speed where you choose to go!" These words so harassed Hsi Jen that she hastened to put her hand over his mouth. "Speak decently," she said; "I was on account of this just about to admonish you, and now here you are uttering all this still more loathsome trash." "I won't utter these words again," Pao-yü eagerly added. "This is the first fault that you must change," Hsi Jen replied. "I'll amend," Pao-yü observed, "and if I say anything of the kind again you can wring my mouth; but what else is there?" "The second thing is this," Hsi Jen explained; "whether you really like to study or whether you only pretend to like study is immaterial; but you should, when you are in the presence of master, or in the presence of any one else, not do nothing else than find fault with people and make fun of them, but behave just as if you were genuinely fond of study, so that you shouldn't besides provoke your father so much to anger, and that he should before others have also a chance of saying something! 'In my family,' he reflects within himself, 'generation after generation has been fond of books, but ever since I've had you, you haven't accomplished my expectations, and not only is it that you don't care about reading books,'--and this has already filled his heart with anger and vexation,--'but both before my face and behind my back, you utter all that stuff and nonsense, and give those persons, who have, through their knowledge of letters, attained high offices, the nickname of the "the salaried worms." You also uphold that there's no work exclusive (of the book where appears) "fathom spotless virtue;" and that all other books consist of foolish compilations, which owe their origin to former authors, who, unable themselves to expound the writings of Confucius, readily struck a new line and invented original notions.' Now with words like these, how can one wonder if master loses all patience, and if he does from time to time give you a thrashing! and what do you make other people think of you?" "I won't say these things again," Pao-yü laughingly protested, "these are the reckless and silly absurdities of a time when I was young and had no idea of the height of the heavens and the thickness of the earth; but I'll now no more repeat them. What else is there besides?" "It isn't right that you should sneer at the bonzes and vilify the Taoist priests, nor mix cosmetics or prepare rouge," Hsi Jen continued; "but there's still another thing more important, you shouldn't again indulge the bad habits of licking the cosmetic, applied by people on their lips, nor be fond of (girls dressed) in red!" "I'll change in all this," Pao-yü added by way of rejoinder; "I'll change in all this; and if there's anything more be quick and tell me." "There's nothing more," Hsi Jen observed; "but you must in everything exercise a little more diligence, and not indulge your caprices and allow your wishes to run riot, and you'll be all right. And should you comply to all these things in real earnest, you couldn't carry me out, even in a chair with eight bearers." "Well, if you do stay in here long enough," Pao-yü remarked with a smile, "there's no fear as to your not having an eight-bearer-chair to sit in!" Hsi Jen gave a sardonic grin. "I don't care much about it," she replied; "and were I even to have such good fortune, I couldn't enjoy such a right. But allowing I could sit in one, there would be no pleasure in it!" While these two were chatting, they saw Ch'iu Wen walk in. "It's the third watch of the night," she observed, "and you should go to sleep. Just a few moments back your grandmother lady Chia and our lady sent a nurse to ask about you, and I replied that you were asleep." Pao-yü bade her fetch a watch, and upon looking at the time, he found indeed that the hand was pointing at ten; whereupon rinsing his mouth again and loosening his clothes, he retired to rest, where we will leave him without any further comment. The next day, Hsi Jen got up as soon as it was dawn, feeling her body heavy, her head sore, her eyes swollen, and her limbs burning like fire. She managed however at first to keep up, an effort though it was, but as subsequently she was unable to endure the strain, and all she felt disposed to do was to recline, she therefore lay down in her clothes on the stove-couch. Pao-yü hastened to tell dowager lady Chia, and the doctor was sent for, who, upon feeling her pulse and diagnosing her complaint, declared that there was nothing else the matter with her than a chill, which she had suddenly contracted, that after she had taken a dose or two of medicine, it would be dispelled, and that she would be quite well. After he had written the prescription and taken his departure, some one was despatched to fetch the medicines, which when brought were properly decocted. As soon as she had swallowed a dose, Pao-yü bade her cover herself with her bed-clothes so as to bring on perspiration; while he himself came into Tai-yü's room to look her up. Tai-yü was at this time quite alone, reclining on her bed having a midday siesta, and the waiting-maids having all gone out to attend to whatever they pleased, the whole room was plunged in stillness and silence. Pao-yü raised the embroidered soft thread portiere and walked in; and upon espying Tai-yü in the room fast asleep, he hurriedly approached her and pushing her: "Dear cousin," he said, "you've just had your meal, and are you asleep already?" and he kept on calling "Tai-yü" till he woke her out of her sleep. Perceiving that it was Pao-yü, "You had better go for a stroll," Tai-yü urged, "for the day before yesterday I was disturbed the whole night, and up to this day I haven't had rest enough to get over the fatigue. My whole body feels languid and sore." "This languor and soreness," Pao-yü rejoined, "are of no consequence; but if you go on sleeping you'll be feeling very ill; so I'll try and distract you, and when we've dispelled this lassitude, you'll be all right." Tai-yü closed her eyes. "I don't feel any lassitude," she explained, "all I want is a little rest; and you had better go elsewhere and come back after romping about for a while." "Where can I go?" Pao-yü asked as he pushed her. "I'm quite sick and tired of seeing the others." At these words, Tai-yü burst out laughing with a sound of Ch'ih. "Well! since you wish to remain here," she added, "go over there and sit down quietly, and let's have a chat." "I'll also recline," Pao-yü suggested. "Well, then, recline!" Tai-yü assented. "There's no pillow," observed Pao-yü, "so let us lie on the same pillow." "What nonsense!" Tai-yü urged, "aren't those pillows outside? get one and lie on it." Pao-yü walked into the outer apartment, and having looked about him, he returned and remarked with a smile: "I don't want those, they may be, for aught I know, some dirty old hag's." Tai-yü at this remark opened her eyes wide, and as she raised herself up: "You're really," she exclaimed laughingly, "the evil star of my existence! here, please recline on this pillow!" and as she uttered these words, she pushed her own pillow towards Pao-yü, and, getting up she went and fetched another of her own, upon which she lay her head in such a way that both of them then reclined opposite to each other. But Tai-yü, upon turning up her eyes and looking, espied on Pao-yü's cheek on the left side of his face, a spot of blood about the size of a button, and speedily bending her body, she drew near to him, and rubbing it with her hand, she scrutinised it closely. "Whose nail," she went on to inquire, "has scratched this open?" Pao-yü with his body still reclining withdrew from her reach, and as he did so, he answered with a smile: "It isn't a scratch; it must, I presume, be simply a drop, which bespattered my cheek when I was just now mixing and clarifying the cosmetic paste for them." Saying this, he tried to get at his handkerchief to wipe it off; but Tai-yü used her own and rubbed it clean for him, while she observed: "Do you still give your mind to such things? attend to them you may; but must you carry about you a placard (to make it public)? Though uncle mayn't see it, were others to notice it, they would treat it as a strange occurrence and a novel bit of news, and go and tell him to curry favour, and when it has reached uncle's ear, we shall all again not come out clean, and provoke him to anger." Pao-yü did not in the least heed what she said, being intent upon smelling a subtle scent which, in point of fact, emanated from Tai-yü's sleeve, and when inhaled inebriated the soul and paralysed the bones. With a snatch, Pao-yü laid hold of Tai-yü's sleeve meaning to see what object was concealed in it; but Tai-yü smilingly expostulated: "At such a time as this," she said, "who keeps scents about one?" "Well, in that case," Pao-yü rejoined with a smirking face, "where does this scent come from?" "I myself don't know," Tai-yü replied; "I presume it must be, there's no saying, some scent in the press which has impregnated the clothes." "It doesn't follow," Pao-yü added, as he shook his head; "the fumes of this smell are very peculiar, and don't resemble the perfume of scent-bottles, scent-balls, or scented satchets!" "Is it likely that I have, like others, Buddhistic disciples," Tai-yü asked laughing ironically, "or worthies to give me novel kinds of scents? But supposing there is about me some peculiar scent, I haven't, at all events, any older or younger brothers to get the flowers, buds, dew, and snow, and concoct any for me; all I have are those common scents, that's all." "Whenever I utter any single remark," Pao-yü urged with a grin, "you at once bring up all these insinuations; but unless I deal with you severely, you'll never know what stuff I'm made of; but from henceforth I'll no more show you any grace!" As he spoke, he turned himself over, and raising himself, he puffed a couple of breaths into both his hands, and hastily stretching them out, he tickled Tai-yü promiscuously under her armpits, and along both sides. Tai-yü had never been able to stand tickling, so that when Pao-yü put out his two hands and tickled her violently, she forthwith giggled to such an extent that she could scarcely gasp for breath. "If you still go on teasing me," she shouted, "I'll get angry with you!" Pao-yü then kept his hands off, and as he laughed, "Tell me," he asked, "will you again come out with all those words or not?" "I daren't do it again," Tai-yü smiled and adjusted her hair; adding with another laugh: "I may have peculiar scents, but have you any 'warm' scents?" Pao-yü at this question, could not for a time unfold its meaning: "What 'warm' scent?" he therefore asked. Tai-yü nodded her head and smiled deridingly. "How stupid! what a fool!" she sighed; "you have jade, and another person has gold to match with you, and if some one has 'cold' scent, haven't you any 'warm' scent as a set-off?" Pao-yü at this stage alone understood the import of her remark. "A short while back you craved for mercy," Pao-yü observed smilingly, "and here you are now going on talking worse than ever;" and as he spoke he again put out his hands. "Dear cousin," Tai-yü speedily implored with a smirk, "I won't venture to do it again." "As for letting you off," Pao-yü remarked laughing, "I'll readily let you off, but do allow me to take your sleeve and smell it!" and while uttering these words, he hastily pulled the sleeve, and pressing it against his face, kept on smelling it incessantly, whereupon Tai-yü drew her hand away and urged: "You must be going now!" "Though you may wish me to go, I can't," Pao-yü smiled, "so let us now lie down with all propriety and have a chat," laying himself down again, as he spoke, while Tai-yü likewise reclined, and covered her face with her handkerchief. Pao-yü in a rambling way gave vent to a lot of nonsense, which Tai-yü did not heed, and Pao-yü went on to inquire: "How old she was when she came to the capital? what sights and antiquities she saw on the journey? what relics and curiosities there were at Yang Chou? what were the local customs and the habits of the people?" Tai-yü made no reply; and Pao-yü fearing lest she should go to sleep, and get ill, readily set to work to beguile her to keep awake. "Ai yah!" he exclaimed, "at Yang Chou, where your official residence is, has occurred a remarkable affair; have you heard about it?" Tai-yü perceiving that he spoke in earnest, that his words were correct and his face serious, imagined that what he referred to was a true story, and she therefore inquired what it was? Pao-yü upon hearing her ask this question, forthwith suppressed a laugh, and, with a glib tongue, he began to spin a yarn. "At Yang Chou," he said, "there's a hill called the Tai hill; and on this hill stands a cave called the Lin Tzu." "This must all be lies," Tai-yü answered sneeringly, "as I've never before heard of such a hill." "Under the heavens many are the hills and rivers," Pao-yü rejoined, "and how could you know them all? Wait until I've done speaking, when you will be free to express your opinion!" "Go on then," Tai-yü suggested, whereupon Pao-yü prosecuted his raillery. "In this Lin Tzu cave," he said, "there was once upon a time a whole swarm of rat-elves. In some year or other and on the seventh day of the twelfth moon, an old rat ascended the throne to discuss matters. 'Tomorrow,' he argued, 'is the eighth of the twelfth moon, and men in the world will all be cooking the congee of the eighth of the twelfth moon. We have now in our cave a short supply of fruits of all kinds, and it would be well that we should seize this opportunity to steal a few and bring them over.' Drawing a mandatory arrow, he handed it to a small rat, full of aptitude, to go forward on a tour of inspection. The young rat on his return reported that he had already concluded his search and inquiries in every place and corner, and that in the temple at the bottom of the hill alone was the largest stock of fruits and rice. 'How many kinds of rice are there?' the old rat ascertained, 'and how many species of fruits?' 'Rice and beans,' the young rat rejoined, 'how many barns-full there are, I can't remember; but in the way of fruits there are five kinds: 1st, red dates; 2nd, chestnuts; 3rd, ground nuts; 4th, water caltrops, and 5th, scented taros.' At this report the old rat was so much elated that he promptly detailed rats to go forth; and as he drew the mandatory arrow, and inquired who would go and steal the rice, a rat readily received the order and went off to rob the rice. Drawing another mandatory arrow, he asked who would go and abstract the beans, when once more a rat took over the arrow and started to steal the beans; and one by one subsequently received each an arrow and started on his errand. There only remained the scented taros, so that picking again a mandatory arrow, he ascertained who would go and carry away the taros: whereupon a very puny and very delicate rat was heard to assent. 'I would like,' he said, 'to go and steal the scented taros.' The old rat and all the swarm of rats, upon noticing his state, feared that he would not be sufficiently expert, and apprehending at the same time that he was too weakly and too devoid of energy, they one and all would not allow him to proceed. 'Though I be young in years and though my frame be delicate,' the wee rat expostulated, 'my devices are unlimited, my talk is glib and my designs deep and farseeing; and I feel convinced that, on this errand, I shall be more ingenious in pilfering than any of them.' 'How could you be more ingenious than they?' the whole company of rats asked. 'I won't,' explained the young rat, 'follow their example, and go straight to work and steal, but by simply shaking my body, and transforming myself, I shall metamorphose myself into a taro, and roll myself among the heap of taros, so that people will not be able to detect me, and to hear me; whereupon I shall stealthily, by means of the magic art of dividing my body into many, begin the removal, and little by little transfer the whole lot away, and will not this be far more ingenious than any direct pilfering or forcible abstraction?' After the whole swarm of rats had listened to what he had to say, they, with one voice, exclaimed: 'Excellent it is indeed, but what is this art of metamorphosis we wonder? Go forth you may, but first transform yourself and let us see you.' At these words the young rat laughed. 'This isn't a hard task!' he observed, 'wait till I transform myself.' "Having done speaking, he shook his body and shouted out 'transform,' when he was converted into a young girl, most beauteous and with a most lovely face. "'You've transformed yourself into the wrong thing,' all the rats promptly added deridingly; 'you said that you were to become a fruit, and how is it that you've turned into a young lady?' "The young rat in its original form rejoined with a sneering smile: 'You all lack, I maintain, experience of the world; what you simply are aware of is that this fruit is the scented taro, but have no idea that the young daughter of Mr. Lin, of the salt tax, is, in real truth, a genuine scented taro.'" Tai-yü having listened to this story, turned herself round and raising herself, she observed laughing, while she pushed Pao-yü: "I'll take that mouth of yours and pull it to pieces! Now I see that you've been imposing upon me." With these words on her lips, she readily gave him a pinch, and Pao-yü hastened to plead for mercy. "My dear cousin," he said, "spare me; I won't presume to do it again; and it's when I came to perceive this perfume of yours, that I suddenly bethought myself of this old story." "You freely indulge in abusing people," Tai-yü added with a smile, "and then go on to say that it's an old story." But hardly had she concluded this remark before they caught sight of Pao-ch'ai walk in. "Who has been telling old stories?" she asked with a beaming face; "do let me also hear them." Tai-yü pressed her at once into a seat. "Just see for yourself who else besides is here!" she smiled; "he goes in for profuse abuses and then maintains that it's an old story!" "Is it indeed cousin Pao-yü?" Pao-ch'ai remarked. "Well, one can't feel surprised at his doing it; for many have ever been the stories stored up in his brain. The only pity is that when he should make use of old stories, he invariably forgets them! To-day, he can easily enough recall them to mind, but in the stanza of the other night on the banana leaves, when he should have remembered them, he couldn't after all recollect what really stared him in the face! and while every one else seemed so cool, he was in such a flurry that he actually perspired! And yet, at this moment, he happens once again to have a memory!" At these words, Tai-yü laughed. "O-mi-to-fu!" she exclaimed. "You are indeed my very good cousin! But you've also (to Pao-yü) come across your match. And this makes it clear that requital and retribution never fail or err." She had just reached this part of her sentence, when in Pao-yü's rooms was heard a continuous sound of wrangling; but as what transpired is not yet known, the ensuing chapter will explain. CHAPTER XX. Wang Hsi-feng with earnest words upbraids Mrs. Chao's jealous notions. Lin Tai-yü uses specious language to make sport of Shih Hsiang-yün's querulous tone of voice. But to continue. Pao-yü was in Tai yü's apartments relating about the rat-elves, when Pao-ch'ai entered unannounced, and began to gibe Pao-yü, with trenchant irony: how that on the fifteenth of the first moon, he had shown ignorance of the allusion to the green wax; and the three of them then indulged in that room in mutual poignant satire, for the sake of fun. Pao-yü had been giving way to solicitude lest Tai-yü should, by being bent upon napping soon after her meal, be shortly getting an indigestion, or lest sleep should, at night, be completely dispelled, as neither of these things were conducive to the preservation of good health, when luckily Pao-ch'ai walked in, and they chatted and laughed together; and when Lin Tai-yü at length lost all inclination to dose, he himself then felt composed in his mind. But suddenly they heard clamouring begin in his room, and after they had all lent an ear and listened, Lin Tai-yü was the first to smile and make a remark. "It's your nurse having a row with Hsi Jen!" she said. "Hsi Jen treats her well enough, but that nurse of yours would also like to keep her well under her thumb; she's indeed an old dotard;" and Pao-yü was anxious to go over at once, but Pao-ch'ai laid hold of him and kept him back, suggesting: "It's as well that you shouldn't wrangle with your nurse, for she's quite stupid from old age; and it's but fair, on the contrary, that you should bear with her a little." "I know all about that!" Pao-yü rejoined. But having concluded this remark, he walked into his room, where he discovered nurse Li, leaning on her staff, standing in the centre of the floor, abusing Hsi Jen, saying: "You young wench! how utterly unmindful you are of your origin! It's I who've raised you up, and yet, when I came just now, you put on high airs and mighty side, and remained reclining on the stove-couch! You saw me well enough, but you paid not the least heed to me! Your whole heart is set upon acting like a wily enchantress to befool Pao-yü; and you so impose upon Pao-yü that he doesn't notice me, but merely lends an ear to what you people have to say! You're no more than a low girl bought for a few taels and brought in here; and will it ever do that you should be up to your mischievous tricks in this room? But whether you like it or not, I'll drag you out from this, and give you to some mean fellow, and we'll see whether you will still behave like a very imp, and cajole people or not?" Hsi Jen was, at first, under the simple impression that the nurse was wrath for no other reason than because she remained lying down, and she felt constrained to explain that "she was unwell, that she had just succeeded in perspiring, and that having had her head covered, she hadn't really perceived the old lady;" but when she came subsequently to hear her mention that she imposed upon Pao-yü, and also go so far as to add that she would be given to some mean fellow, she unavoidably experienced both a sense of shame and injury, and found it impossible to restrain herself from beginning to cry. Pao-yü had, it is true, caught all that had been said, but unable with any propriety to take notice of it, he thought it his duty to explain matters for her. "She's ill," he observed, "and is taking medicines; and if you don't believe it," he went on, "well then ask the rest of the servant-girls." Nurse Li at these words flew into a more violent dudgeon. "Your sole delight is to screen that lot of sly foxes!" she remarked, "and do you pay any notice to me? No, none at all! and whom would you like me to go and ask; who's it that doesn't back you? and who hasn't been dismounted from her horse by Hsi Jen? I know all about it; but I'll go with you and explain all these matters to our old mistress and my lady; for I've nursed you till I've brought you to this age, and now that you don't feed on milk, you thrust me on one side, and avail yourself of the servant-girls, in your wish to browbeat me." As she uttered this remark, she too gave way to tears, but by this time, Tai-yü and Pao-ch'ai had also come over, and they set to work to reassure her. "You, old lady," they urged, "should bear with them a little, and everything will be right!" And when nurse Li saw these two arrive, she hastened to lay bare her grievances to them; and taking up the question of the dismissal in days gone by, of Hsi Hsüeh, for having drunk some tea, of the cream eaten on the previous day, and other similar matters, she spun a long, interminable yarn. By a strange coincidence lady Feng was at this moment in the upper rooms, where she had been making up the account of losses and winnings, and upon hearing at the back a continuous sound of shouting and bustling, she readily concluded that nurse Li's old complaint was breaking forth, and that she was finding fault with Pao-yü's servants. But she had, as luck would have it, lost money in gambling on this occasion, so that she was ready to visit her resentment upon others. With hurried step, she forthwith came over, and laying hold of nurse Li, "Nurse," she said smiling, "don't lose your temper, on a great festival like this, and after our venerable lady has just gone through a day in excellent spirits! You're an old dame, and should, when others get up a row, still do what is right and keep them in proper order; and aren't you, instead of that, aware what good manners imply, that you will start vociferating in this place, and make our dowager lady full of displeasure? Tell me who's not good, and I'll beat her for you; but be quick and come along with me over to my quarters, where a pheasant which they have roasted is scalding hot, and let us go and have a glass of wine!" And as she spoke, she dragged her along and went on her way. "Feng Erh," she also called, "hold the staff for your old lady Li, and the handkerchief to wipe her tears with!" While nurse Li walked along with lady Feng, her feet scarcely touched the ground, as she kept on saying: "I don't really attach any value to this decrepid existence of mine! and I had rather disregard good manners, have a row and lose face, as it's better, it seems to me, than to put up with the temper of that wench!" Behind followed Pao-ch'ai and Tai-yü, and at the sight of the way in which lady Feng dealt with her, they both clapped their hands, and exclaimed, laughing, "What piece of luck that this gust of wind has come, and dragged away this old matron!" while Pao-yü nodded his head to and fro and soliloquised with a sigh: "One can neither know whence originates this score; for she will choose the weak one to maltreat; nor can one see what girl has given her offence that she has come to be put in her black books!" Scarcely had he ended this remark, before Ch'ing Wen, who stood by, put in her word. "Who's gone mad again?" she interposed, "and what good would come by hurting her feelings? But did even any one happen to hurt her, she would have pluck enough to bear the brunt, and wouldn't act so improperly as to involve others!" Hsi Jen wept, and as she, did so, she drew Pao-yü towards her: "All through my having aggrieved an old nurse," she urged, "you've now again given umbrage, entirely on my account, to this crowd of people; and isn't this still enough for me to bear but must you also go and drag in third parties?" When Pao-yü realised that to this sickness of hers, had also been superadded all these annoyances, he promptly stifled his resentment, suppressed his voice and consoled her so far as to induce her to lie down again to perspire. And when he further noticed how scalding like soup and burning like fire she was, he himself watched by her, and reclining by her side, he tried to cheer her, saying: "All you must do is to take good care of your ailment; and don't give your mind to those trifling matters, and get angry." "Were I," Hsi Jen smiled sardonically, "to lose my temper over such concerns, would I be able to stand one moment longer in this room? The only thing is that if she goes on, day after day, doing nothing else than clamour in this manner, how can she let people get along? But you rashly go and hurt people's feelings for our sakes; but they'll bear it in mind, and when they find an opportunity, they'll come out with what's easy enough to say, but what's not pleasant to hear, and how will we all feel then?" While her mouth gave utterance to these words, she could not stop her tears from running; but fearful, on the other hand, lest Pao-yü should be annoyed, she felt compelled to again strain every nerve to repress them. But in a short while, the old matrons employed for all sorts of duties, brought in some mixture of two drugs; and, as Pao-yü noticed that she was just on the point of perspiring, he did not allow her to get up, but readily taking it up to her, she immediately swallowed it, with her head still on her pillow; whereupon he gave speedy directions to the young servant-maids to lay her stove-couch in order. "Whether you mean to have anything to eat or not," Hsi Jen advised, "you should after all sit for a time with our old mistress and our lady, and have a romp with the young ladies; after which you can come back again; while I, by quietly keeping lying down, will also feel the better." When Pao-yü heard this suggestion, he had no help but to accede, and, after she had divested herself of her hair-pins and earrings, and he saw her lie down, he betook himself into the drawing-rooms, where he had his repast with old lady Chia. But the meal over, her ladyship felt still disposed to play at cards with the nurses, who had looked after the household for many years; and Pao-yü, bethinking himself of Hsi Jen, hastened to return to his apartments; where seeing that Hsi Jen was drowsily falling asleep, he himself would have wished to go to bed, but the hour was yet early. And as about this time Ch'ing Wen, I Hsia, Ch'in Wen, Pi Hen had all, in their desire of getting some excitement, started in search of Yüan Yang, Hu Po and their companions, to have a romp with them, and he espied She Yüeh alone in the outer room, having a game of dominoes by lamp-light, Pao-yü inquired full of smiles: "How is it you don't go with them?" "I've no money," She Yüeh replied. "Under the bed," continued Pao-yü, "is heaped up all that money, and isn't it enough yet for you to lose from?" "Had we all gone to play," She Yüeh added, "to whom would the charge of this apartment have been handed over? That other one is sick again, and the whole room is above, one mass of lamps, and below, full of fire; and all those old matrons, ancient as the heavens, should, after all their exertions in waiting upon you from morning to night, be also allowed some rest; while the young servant girls, on the other hand, have likewise been on duty the whole day long, and shouldn't they even at this hour be left to go and have some distraction? and that's why I am in here on watch." When Pao-yü heard these words, which demonstrated distinctly that she was another Hsi Jen, he consequently put on a smile and remarked: "I'll sit in here, so you had better set your mind at ease and go!" "Since you remain in here, there's less need for me to go," resumed She Yüeh, "for we two can chat and play and laugh; and won't that be nice?" "What can we two do? it will be awfully dull! but never mind," Pao-yü rejoined; "this morning you said that your head itched, and now that you have nothing to do, I may as well comb it for you." "Yes! do so!" readily assented She Yüeh, upon catching what he suggested; and while still speaking, she brought over the dressing-case containing a set of small drawers and looking-glass, and taking off her ornaments, she dishevelled her hair; whereupon Pao-yü picked up the fine comb and passed it repeatedly through her hair; but he had only combed it three or five times, when he perceived Ch'ing Wen hurriedly walk in to fetch some money. As soon as she caught sight of them both: "You haven't as yet drunk from the marriage cup," she said with a smile full of irony, "and have you already put up your hair?" "Now that you've come, let me also comb yours for you," Pao-yü continued. "I'm not blessed with such excessive good fortune!" Ch'ing Wen retorted, and as she uttered these words, she took the money, and forthwith dashing the portiere after her, she quitted the room. Pao-yü stood at the back of She Yüeh, and She Yüeh sat opposite the glass, so that the two of them faced each other in it, and Pao-yü readily observed as he gazed in the glass, "In the whole number of rooms she's the only one who has a glib tongue!" She Yüeh at these words hastily waved her hand towards the inside of the glass, and Pao-yü understood the hint; and suddenly a sound of "hu" was heard from the portiere, and Ch'ing Wen ran in once again. "How have I got a glib tongue?" she inquired; "it would be well for us to explain ourselves." "Go after your business, and have done," She Yüeh interposed laughingly; "what's the use of your coming and asking questions of people?" "Will you also screen him?" Ch'ing Wen smiled significantly; "I know all about your secret doings, but wait until I've got back my capital, and we'll then talk matters over!" With this remark still on her lips, she straightway quitted the room, and during this while, Pao-yü having finished combing her hair, asked She Yüeh to quietly wait upon him, while he went to sleep, as he would not like to disturb Hsi Jen. Of the whole night there is nothing to record. But the next day, when he got up at early dawn, Hsi Jen had already perspired, during the night, so that she felt considerably lighter and better; but limiting her diet to a little rice soup, she remained quiet and nursed herself, and Pao-yü was so relieved in mind that he came, after his meal, over on this side to his aunt Hsüeh's on a saunter. The season was the course of the first moon, and the school was shut up for the new year holidays; while in the inner chambers the girls had put by their needlework, and were all having a time of leisure, and hence it was that when Chia Huan too came over in search of distraction, he discovered Pao-ch'ai, Hsiang Ling, Ying Erh, the three of them, in the act of recreating themselves by playing at chess. Chia Huan, at the sight of them, also wished to join in their games; and Pao-ch'ai, who had always looked upon him with, in fact, the same eye as she did Pao-yü, and with no different sentiment of any kind, pressed him to come up, upon hearing that he was on this occasion desirous to play; and, when he had seated himself together with them, they began to gamble, staking each time a pile of ten cash. The first time, he was the winner, and he felt supremely elated at heart, but as it happened that he subsequently lost in several consecutive games he soon became a prey to considerable distress. But in due course came the game in which it was his turn to cast the dice, and, if in throwing, he got seven spots, he stood to win, but he was likewise bound to be a winner were he to turn up six; and when Ying Erh had turned up three spots and lost, he consequently took up the dice, and dashing them with spite, one of them settled at five; and, as the other reeled wildly about, Ying Erh clapped her hands, and kept on shouting, "one spot;" while Chia Huan at once gazed with fixed eye and cried at random: "It's six, it's seven, it's eight!" But the dice, as it happened, turned up at one spot, and Chia Huan was so exasperated that putting out his hand, he speedily made a snatch at the dice, and eventually was about to lay hold of the money, arguing that it was six spot. But Ying Erh expostulated, "It was distinctly an ace," she said. And as Pao-ch'ai noticed how distressed Chia Huan was, she forthwith cast a glance at Ying Erh and observed: "The older you get, the less manners you have! Is it likely that gentlemen will cheat you? and don't you yet put down the money?" Ying Erh felt her whole heart much aggrieved, but as she heard Pao-ch'ai make these remarks, she did not presume to utter a sound, and as she was under the necessity of laying down the cash, she muttered to herself: "This one calls himself a gentleman, and yet cheats us of these few cash, for which I myself even have no eye! The other day when I played with Mr. Pao-yü, he lost ever so many, and yet he did not distress himself! and what remained of the cash were besides snatched away by a few servant-girls, but all he did was to smile, that's all!" Pao-ch'ai did not allow her time to complete what she had to say, but there and then called her to account and made her desist; whereupon Chia Huan exclaimed: "How can I compare with Pao-yü; you all fear him, and keep on good terms with him, while you all look down upon me for not being the child of my lady." And as he uttered these words, he at once gave way to tears. "My dear cousin," Pao-ch'ai hastened to advise him, "leave off at once language of this kind, for people will laugh at you;" and then went on to scold Ying Erh, when Pao-yü just happened to come in. Perceiving him in this plight, "What is the matter?" he asked; but Chia Huan had not the courage to say anything. Pao-ch'ai was well aware of the custom, which prevailed in their family, that younger brothers lived in respect of the elder brothers, but she was not however cognisant of the fact that Pao-yü would not that any one should entertain any fear of him. His idea being that elder as well as younger brothers had, all alike, father and mother to admonish them, and that there was no need for any of that officiousness, which, instead of doing good gave, on the contrary, rise to estrangement. "Besides," (he reasoned,) "I'm the offspring of the primary wife, while he's the son of the secondary wife, and, if by treating him as leniently as I have done, there are still those to talk about me, behind my back, how could I exercise any control over him?" But besides these, there were other still more foolish notions, which he fostered in his mind; but what foolish notions they were can you, reader, guess? As a result of his growing up, from his early youth, among a crowd of girls, of whom, in the way of sister, there was Yüan Ch'un, of cousins, from his paternal uncle's side, there were Ying Ch'un, and Hsi Ch'un, and of relatives also there were Shih Hsiang-yün, Lin Tai-yü, Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai and the rest, he, in due course, resolved in his mind that the divine and unsullied virtue of Heaven and earth was only implanted in womankind, and that men were no more than feculent dregs and foul dirt. And for this reason it was that men were without discrimination, considered by him as so many filthy objects, which might or might not exist; while the relationships of father, paternal uncles, and brothers, he did not however presume to disregard, as these were among the injunctions bequeathed by the holy man, and he felt bound to listen to a few of their precepts. But to the above causes must be assigned the fact that, among his brothers, he did no more than accomplish the general purport of the principle of human affections; bearing in mind no thought whatever that he himself was a human being of the male sex, and that it was his duty to be an example to his younger brothers. And this is why Chia Huan and the others entertained no respect for him, though in their veneration for dowager lady Chia, they yielded to him to a certain degree. Pao-ch'ai harboured fears lest, on this occasion, Pao-yü should call him to book, and put him out of face, and she there and then lost no time in taking Chia Huan's part with a view to screening him. "In this felicitous first moon what are you blubbering for?" Pao-yü inquired, "if this place isn't nice, why then go somewhere else to play. But from reading books, day after day, you've studied so much that you've become quite a dunce. If this thing, for instance, isn't good, that must, of course, be good, so then discard this and take up that, but is it likely that by sticking to this thing and crying for a while that it will become good? You came originally with the idea of reaping some fun, and you've instead provoked yourself to displeasure, and isn't it better then that you should be off at once." Chia Huan upon hearing these words could not but come back to his quarters; and Mrs. Chao noticing the frame of mind in which he was felt constrained to inquire: "Where is it that you've been looked down upon by being made to fill up a hole, and being trodden under foot?" "I was playing with cousin Pao-ch'ai," Chia Huan readily replied, "when Ying Erh insulted me, and deprived me of my money, and brother Pao-yü drove me away." "Ts'ui!" exclaimed Mrs. Chao, "who bade you (presume so high) as to get up into that lofty tray? You low and barefaced thing! What place is there that you can't go to and play; and who told you to run over there and bring upon yourself all this shame?" As she spoke, lady Feng was, by a strange coincidence, passing outside under the window; so that every word reached her ear, and she speedily asked from outside the window: "What are you up to in this happy first moon? These brothers are, really, but mere children, and will you just for a slight mistake, go on preaching to him! what's the use of coming out with all you've said? Let him go wherever he pleases; for there are still our lady and Mr. Chia Cheng to keep him in order. But you go and sputter him with your gigantic mouth; he's at present a master, and if there be anything wrong about him, there are, after all, those to rate him; and what business is that of yours? Brother Huan, come out with you, and follow me and let us go and enjoy ourselves." Chia Huan had ever been in greater fear and trembling of lady Feng, than of madame Wang, so that when her summons reached his ear, he hurriedly went out, while Mrs. Chao, on the other hand, did not venture to breathe a single word. "You too," resumed lady Feng, addressing Chia Huan; "are a thing devoid of all natural spirit! I've often told you that if you want to eat, drink, play, or laugh, you were quite free to go and play with whatever female cousin, male cousin, or sister-in-law you choose to disport yourself with; but you won't listen to my words. On the contrary, you let all these persons teach you to be depraved in your heart, perverse in your mind, to be sly, artful, and domineering; and you've, besides, no respect for your own self, but will go with that low-bred lot! and your perverse purpose is to begrudge people's preferences! But what you've lost are simply a few cash, and do you behave in this manner? How much did you lose?" she proceeded to ask Chia Huan; and Chia Huan, upon hearing this question, felt constrained to obey, by saying something in the way of a reply. "I've lost," he explained, "some hundred or two hundred cash." "You have," rejoined lady Feng, "the good fortune of being a gentleman, and do you make such a fuss for the loss of a hundred or two hundred cash!" and turning her head round, "Feng Erh," she added, "go and fetch a thousand cash; and as the girls are all playing at the back, take him along to go and play. And if again by and by, you're so mean and deceitful, I shall, first of all, beat you, and then tell some one to report it at school, and won't your skin be flayed for you? All because of this want of respect of yours, your elder cousin is so angry with you that his teeth itch; and were it not that I prevent him, he would hit you with his foot in the stomach and kick all your intestines out! Get away," she then cried; whereupon Chia Huan obediently followed Feng Erh, and taking the money he went all by himself to play with Ying Ch'un and the rest; where we shall leave him without another word. But to return to Pao-yü. He was just amusing himself and laughing with Pao-ch'ai, when at an unexpected moment, he heard some one announce that Miss Shih had come. At these words, Pao-yü rose, and was at once going off when "Wait," shouted Pao-ch'ai with a smile, "and we'll go over together and see her." Saying this, she descended from the stove-couch, and came, in company with Pao-yü, to dowager lady Chia's on this side, where they saw Shih Hsiang-yün laughing aloud, and talking immoderately; and upon catching sight of them both, she promptly inquired after their healths, and exchanged salutations. Lin Tai-yü just happened to be standing by, and having set the question to Pao-yü "Where do you come from?" "I come from cousin Pao-ch'ai's rooms," Pao-yü readily replied. Tai-yü gave a sardonic smile. "What I maintain is this," she rejoined, "that lucky enough for you, you were detained over there; otherwise, you would long ago have, at once, come flying in here!" "Am I only free to play with you?" Pao-yü inquired, "and to dispel your ennui! I simply went over to her place for a run, and that quite casually, and will you insinuate all these things?" "Your words are quite devoid of sense," Tai-yü added; "whether you go or not what's that to me? neither did I tell you to give me any distraction; you're quite at liberty from this time forth not to pay any notice to me!" Saying this, she flew into a high dudgeon and rushed back into her room; but Pao-yü promptly followed in her footsteps: "Here you are again in a huff," he urged, "and all for no reason! Had I even passed any remark that I shouldn't, you should anyhow have still sat in there, and chatted and laughed with the others for a while; instead of that, you come again to sit and mope all alone!" "Are you my keeper?" Tai-yü expostulated. "I couldn't, of course," Pao-yü smiled, "presume to exercise any influence over you; but the only thing is that you are doing your own health harm!" "If I do ruin my health," Tai-yü rejoined, "and I die, it's my own lookout! what's that to do with you?" "What's the good," protested Pao-yü, "of talking in this happy first moon of dying and of living?" "I _will_ say die," insisted Tai-yü, "die now, at this very moment! but you're afraid of death; and you may live a long life of a hundred years, but what good will that be!" "If all we do is to go on nagging in this way," Pao-yü remarked smiling, "will I any more be afraid to die? on the contrary, it would be better to die, and be free!" "Quite so!" continued Tai-yü with alacrity, "if we go on nagging in this way, it would be better for me to die, and that you should be free of me!" "I speak of my own self dying," Pao-yü added, "so don't misunderstand my words and accuse people wrongly." While he was as yet speaking, Pao-ch'ai entered the room: "Cousin Shih is waiting for you;" she said; and with these words, she hastily pushed Pao-yü on, and they walked away. Tai-yü, meanwhile, became more and more a prey to resentment; and disconsolate as she felt, she shed tears in front of the window. But not time enough had transpired to allow two cups of tea to be drunk, before Pao-yü came back again. At the sight of him, Tai-yü sobbed still more fervently and incessantly, and Pao-yü realising the state she was in, and knowing well enough how arduous a task it would be to bring her round, began to join together a hundred, yea a thousand kinds of soft phrases and tender words to console her. But at an unforeseen moment, and before he could himself open his mouth, he heard Tai-yü anticipate him. "What have you come back again for?" she asked. "Let me die or live, as I please, and have done! You've really got at present some one to play with you, one who, compared with me, is able to read and able to compose, able to write, to speak, as well as to joke, one too who for fear lest you should have ruffled your temper dragged you away: and what do you return here for now?" Pao-yü, after listening to all she had to say, hastened to come up to her. "Is it likely," he observed in a low tone of voice, "that an intelligent person like you isn't so much as aware that near relatives can't be separated by a distant relative, and a remote friend set aside an old friend! I'm stupid, there's no gainsaying, but I do anyhow understand what these two sentiments imply. You and I are, in the first place, cousins on my father's sister's side; while sister Pao-ch'ai and I are two cousins on mother's sides, so that, according to the degrees of relationship, she's more distant than yourself. In the second place, you came here first, and we two have our meals at one table and sleep in one bed, having ever since our youth grown up together; while she has only recently come, and how could I ever distance you on her account?" "Ts'ui!" Tai-yü exclaimed. "Will I forsooth ever make you distance her! who and what kind of person have I become to do such a thing? What (I said) was prompted by my own motives." "I too," Pao-yü urged, "made those remarks prompted by my own heart's motives, and do you mean to say that your heart can only read the feelings of your own heart, and has no idea whatsoever of my own?" Tai-yü at these words, lowered her head and said not a word. But after a long interval, "You only know," she continued, "how to feel bitter against people for their action in censuring you: but you don't, after all, know that you yourself provoke people to such a degree, that it's hard for them to put up with it! Take for instance the weather of to-day as an example. It's distinctly very cold, to-day, and yet, how is it that you are so contrary as to go and divest yourself of the pelisse with the bluish breast-fur overlapping the cloth?" "Why say I didn't wear it?" Pao-yü smilingly observed. "I did, but seeing you get angry I felt suddenly in such a terrible blaze, that I at once took it off!" Tai-yü heaved a sigh. "You'll by and by catch a cold," she remarked, "and then you'll again have to starve, and vociferate for something to eat!" While these two were having this colloquy, Hsiang-yün was seen to walk in! "You two, Ai cousin and cousin Lin," she ventured jokingly, "are together playing every day, and though I've managed to come after ever so much trouble, you pay no heed to me at all!" "It's invariably the rule," Tai-yü retorted smilingly, "that those who have a defect in their speech will insist upon talking; she can't even come out correctly with 'Erh' (secundus) cousin, and keeps on calling him 'Ai' cousin, 'Ai' cousin! And by and by when you play 'Wei Ch'i' you're sure also to shout out yao, ai, (instead of erh), san; (one, two, three)." Pao-yü laughed. "If you imitate her," he interposed, "and get into that habit, you'll also begin to bite your tongue when you talk." "She won't make even the slightest allowance for any one," Hsiang-yün rejoined; "her sole idea being to pick out others' faults. You may readily be superior to any mortal being, but you shouldn't, after all, offend against what's right and make fun of every person you come across! But I'll point out some one, and if you venture to jeer her, I'll at once submit to you." "Who is it?" Tai-yü vehemently inquired. "If you do have the courage," Hsiang-yün answered, "to pick out cousin Pao-ch'ai's faults, you then may well be held to be first-rate!" Tai-yü after hearing these words, gave a sarcastic smile. "I was wondering," she observed, "who it was. Is it indeed she? How could I ever presume to pick out hers?" Pao-yü allowed her no time to finish, but hastened to say something to interrupt the conversation. "I couldn't, of course, during the whole of this my lifetime," Hsiang-yün laughed, "attain your standard! but my earnest wish is that by and by should be found for you, cousin Lin, a husband, who bites his tongue when he speaks, so that you should every minute and second listen to 'ai-ya-os!' O-mi-to-fu, won't then your reward be manifest to my eyes!" As she made this remark, they all burst out laughing heartily, and Hsiang-yün speedily turned herself round and ran away. But reader, do you want to know the sequel? Well, then listen to the explanation given in the next chapter. CHAPTER XXI. The eminent Hsi Jen, with winsome ways, rails at Pao-yü, with a view to exhortation. The beauteous P'ing Erh, with soft words, screens Chia Lien. But to resume our story. When Shih Hsiang-yün ran out of the room, she was all in a flutter lest Lin Tai-yü should catch her up; but Pao-yü, who came after her, readily shouted out, "You'll trip and fall. How ever could she come up to you?" Lin Tai-yü went in pursuit of her as far as the entrance, when she was impeded from making further progress by Pao-yü, who stretched his arms out against the posts of the door. "Were I to spare Yün Erh, I couldn't live!" Lin Tai-yü exclaimed, as she tugged at his arms. But Hsiang-yün, perceiving that Pao-yü obstructed the door, and surmising that Tai-yü could not come out, speedily stood still. "My dear cousin," she smilingly pleaded, "do let me off this time!" But it just happened that Pao-ch'ai, who was coming along, was at the back of Hsiang-yün, and with a face also beaming with smiles: "I advise you both," she said, "to leave off out of respect for cousin Pao-yü, and have done." "I don't agree to that," Tai-yü rejoined; "are you people, pray, all of one mind to do nothing but make fun of me?" "Who ventures to make fun of you?" Pao-yü observed advisingly; "and hadn't you made sport of her, would she have presumed to have said anything about you?" While this quartet were finding it an arduous task to understand one another, a servant came to invite them to have their repast, and they eventually crossed over to the front side, and as it was already time for the lamps to be lit, madame Wang, widow Li Wan, lady Feng, Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and the other cousins, adjourned in a body to dowager lady Chia's apartments on this side, where the whole company spent a while in a chat on irrelevant topics, after which they each returned to their rooms and retired to bed. Hsiang-yün, as of old, betook herself to Tai-yü's quarters to rest, and Pao-yü escorted them both into their apartment, and it was after the hour had already past the second watch, and Hsi Jen had come and pressed him several times, that he at length returned to his own bedroom and went to sleep. The next morning, as soon as it was daylight, he threw his clothes over him, put on his low shoes and came over into Tai-yü's room, where he however saw nothing of the two girls Tzu Chüan and Ts'ui Lu, as there was no one else here in there besides his two cousins, still reclining under the coverlets. Tai-yü was closely wrapped in a quilt of almond-red silk, and lying quietly, with closed eyes fast asleep; while Shih Hsiang-yün, with her handful of shiny hair draggling along the edge of the pillow, was covered only up to the chest, and outside the coverlet rested her curved snow-white arm, with the gold bracelets, which she had on. At the sight of her, Pao-yü heaved a sigh. "Even when asleep," he soliloquised, "she can't be quiet! but by and by, when the wind will have blown on her, she'll again shout that her shoulder is sore!" With these words, he gently covered her, but Lin Tai-yü had already awoke out of her sleep, and becoming aware that there was some one about, she promptly concluded that it must, for a certainty, be Pao-yü, and turning herself accordingly round, and discovering at a glance that the truth was not beyond her conjectures, she observed: "What have you run over to do at this early hour?" to which question Pao-yü replied: "Do you call this early? but get up and see for yourself!" "First quit the room," Tai-yü suggested, "and let us get up!" Pao-yü thereupon made his exit into the ante-chamber, and Tai-yü jumped out of bed, and awoke Hsiang-yün. When both of them had put on their clothes, Pao-yü re-entered and took a seat by the side of the toilet table; whence he beheld Tzu-chüan and Hsüeh Yen walk in and wait upon them, as they dressed their hair and performed their ablutions. Hsiang-yün had done washing her face, and Ts'üi Lü at once took the remaining water and was about to throw it away, when Pao-yü interposed, saying: "Wait, I'll avail myself of this opportunity to wash too and finish with it, and thus save myself the trouble of having again to go over!" Speaking the while, he hastily came forward, and bending his waist, he washed his face twice with two handfuls of water, and when Tzu Chüan went over to give him the scented soap, Pao-yü added: "In this basin, there's a good deal of it, and there's no need of rubbing any more!" He then washed his face with two more handfuls, and forthwith asked for a towel, and Ts'üi Lü exclaimed: "What! have you still got this failing? when will you turn a new leaf?" But Pao-yü paid not so much as any heed to her, and there and then called for some salt, with which he rubbed his teeth, and rinsed his mouth. When he had done, he perceived that Hsiang-yün had already finished combing her hair, and speedily coming up to her, he put on a smile, and said: "My dear cousin, comb my hair for me!" "This can't be done!" Hsiang-yün objected. "My dear cousin," Pao-yü continued smirkingly, "how is it that you combed it for me in former times?" "I've forgotten now how to comb it!" Hsiang-yün replied. "I'm not, after all, going out of doors," Pao-yü observed, "nor will I wear a hat or frontlet, so that all that need be done is to plait a few queues, that's all!" Saying this, he went on to appeal to her in a thousand and one endearing terms, so that Hsiang-yün had no alternative, but to draw his head nearer to her and to comb one queue after another, and as when he stayed at home he wore no hat, nor had, in fact, any tufted horns, she merely took the short surrounding hair from all four sides, and twisting it into small tufts, she collected it together over the hair on the crown of the head, and plaited a large queue, binding it fast with red ribbon; while from the root of the hair to the end of the queue, were four pearls in a row, below which, in the way of a tip, was suspended a golden pendant. "Of these pearls there are only three," Hsiang-yün remarked as she went on plaiting; "this isn't one like them; I remember these were all of one kind, and how is it that there's one short?" "I've lost one," Pao-yü rejoined. "It must have dropped," Hsiang-yün added, "when you went out of doors, and been picked up by some one when you were off your guard; and he's now, instead of you, the richer for it." "One can neither tell whether it has been really lost," Tai-yü, who stood by, interposed, smiling the while sarcastically; "nor could one say whether it hasn't been given away to some one to be mounted in some trinket or other and worn!" Pao-yü made no reply; but set to work, seeing that the two sides of the dressing table were all full of toilet boxes and other such articles, taking up those that came under his hand and examining them. Grasping unawares a box of cosmetic, which was within his reach, he would have liked to have brought it to his lips, but he feared again lest Hsiang-yün should chide him. While he was hesitating whether to do so or not, Hsiang-yün, from behind, stretched forth her arm and gave him a smack, which sent the cosmetic flying from his hand, as she cried out: "You good-for-nothing! when will you mend those weaknesses of yours!" But hardly had she had time to complete this remark, when she caught sight of Hsi Jen walk in, who upon perceiving this state of things, became aware that he was already combed and washed, and she felt constrained to go back and attend to her own coiffure and ablutions. But suddenly, she saw Pao-ch'ai come in and inquire: "Where's cousin Pao-yü gone?" "Do you mean to say," Hsi Jen insinuated with a sardonic smile, "that your cousin Pao-yü has leisure to stay at home?" When Pao-ch'ai heard these words, she inwardly comprehended her meaning, and when she further heard Hsi Jen remark with a sigh: "Cousins may well be on intimate terms, but they should also observe some sort of propriety; and they shouldn't night and day romp together; and no matter how people may tender advice it's all like so much wind blowing past the ears." Pao-ch'ai began, at these remarks, to cogitate within her mind: "May I not, possibly, have been mistaken in my estimation of this girl; for to listen to her words, she would really seem to have a certain amount of _savoir faire_!" Pao-ch'ai thereupon took a seat on the stove-couch, and quietly, in the course of their conversation on one thing and another, she managed to ascertain her age, her native village and other such particulars, and then setting her mind diligently to put, on the sly, her conversation and mental capacity to the test, she discovered how deeply worthy she was to be respected and loved. But in a while Pao-yü arrived, and Pao-ch'ai at once quitted the apartment. "How is it," Pao-yü at once inquired, "that cousin Pao-ch'ai was chatting along with you so lustily, and that as soon as she saw me enter, she promptly ran away?" Hsi Jen did not make any reply to his first question, and it was only when he had repeated it that Hsi Jen remarked: "Do you ask me? How can I know what goes on between you two?" When Pao-yü heard these words, and he noticed that the look on her face was so unlike that of former days, he lost no time in putting on a smile and asking: "Why is it that you too are angry in real earnest?" "How could I presume to get angry!" Hsi Jen rejoined smiling indifferently; "but you mustn't, from this day forth, put your foot into this room! and as you have anyhow people to wait on you, you shouldn't come again to make use of my services, for I mean to go and attend to our old mistress, as in days of old." With this remark still on her lips, she lay herself down on the stove-couch and closed her eyes. When Pao-yü perceived the state of mind she was in, he felt deeply surprised and could not refrain from coming forward and trying to cheer her up. But Hsi Jen kept her eyes closed and paid no heed to him, so that Pao-yü was quite at a loss how to act. But espying She Yüeh enter the room, he said with alacrity: "What's up with your sister?" "Do I know?" answered She Yüeh, "examine your own self and you'll readily know!" After these words had been heard by Pao-yü, he gazed vacantly for some time, feeling the while very unhappy; but raising himself impetuously: "Well!" he exclaimed, "if you don't notice me, all right, I too will go to sleep," and as he spoke he got up, and, descending from the couch, he betook himself to his own bed and went to sleep. Hsi Jen noticing that he had not budged for ever so long, and that he faintly snored, presumed that he must have fallen fast asleep, so she speedily rose to her feet, and, taking a wrapper, came over and covered him. But a sound of "hu" reached her ear, as Pao-yü promptly threw it off and once again closed his eyes and feigned sleep. Hsi Jen distinctly grasped his idea and, forthwith nodding her head, she smiled coldly. "You really needn't lose your temper! but from this time forth, I'll become mute, and not say one word to you; and what if I do?" Pao-yü could not restrain himself from rising. "What have I been up to again," he asked, "that you're once more at me with your advice? As far as your advice goes, it's all well and good; but just now without one word of counsel, you paid no heed to me when I came in, but, flying into a huff, you went to sleep. Nor could I make out what it was all about, and now here you are again maintaining that I'm angry. But when did I hear you, pray, give me a word of advice of any kind?" "Doesn't your mind yet see for itself?" Hsi Jen replied; "and do you still expect me to tell you?" While they were disputing, dowager lady Chia sent a servant to call him to his repast, and he thereupon crossed over to the front; but after he had hurriedly swallowed a few bowls of rice, he returned to his own apartment, where he discovered Hsi Jen reclining on the outer stove-couch, while She Yüeh was playing with the dominoes by her side. Pao-yü had been ever aware of the intimacy which existed between She Yüeh and Hsi Jen, so that paying not the slightest notice to even She Yüeh, he raised the soft portiere and straightway walked all alone into the inner apartment. She Yüeh felt constrained to follow him in, but Pao-yü at once pushed her out, saying: "I don't venture to disturb you two;" so that She Yüeh had no alternative but to leave the room with a smiling countenance, and to bid two young waiting-maids go in. Pao-yü took hold of a book and read for a considerable time in a reclining position; but upon raising his head to ask for some tea, he caught sight of a couple of waiting-maids, standing below; the one of whom, slightly older than the other, was exceedingly winsome. "What's your name?" Pao-yü eagerly inquired. "I'm called Hui Hsiang, (orchid fragrance)," that waiting-maid rejoined simperingly. "Who gave you this name?" Pao-yü went on to ask. "I went originally under the name of Yün Hsiang (Gum Sandarac)," added Hui Hsiang, "but Miss Hua it was who changed it." "You should really be called Hui Ch'i, (latent fragrance), that would be proper; and why such stuff as Hui Hsiang, (orchid fragrance)?" "How many sisters have you got?" he further went on to ask of her. "Four," replied Hui Hsiang. "Which of them are you?" Pao-yü asked. "The fourth," answered Hui Hsiang. "By and by you must be called Ssu Erh, (fourth child)," Pao-yü suggested, "for there's no need for any such nonsense as Hui Hsiang (orchid fragrance) or Lan Ch'i (epidendrum perfume.) Which single girl deserves to be compared to all these flowers, without profaning pretty names and fine surnames!" As he uttered these words, he bade her give him some tea, which he drank; while Hsi Jen and She Yüeh, who were in the outer apartment, had been listening for a long time and laughing with compressed lips. Pao-yü did not, on this day, so much as put his foot outside the door of his room, but sat all alone sad and dejected, simply taking up his books, in order to dispel his melancholy fit, or diverting himself with his writing materials; while he did not even avail himself of the services of any of the family servants, but simply bade Ssu Erh answer his calls. This Ssu Erh was, who would have thought it, a girl gifted with matchless artfulness, and perceiving that Pao-yü had requisitioned her services, she speedily began to devise extreme ways and means to inveigle him. When evening came, and dinner was over, Pao-yü's eyes were scorching hot and his ears burning from the effects of two cups of wine that he had taken. Had it been in past days, he would have now had Hsi Jen and her companions with him, and with all their good cheer and laughter, he would have been enjoying himself. But here was he, on this occasion, dull and forlorn, a solitary being, gazing at the lamp with an absolute lack of pleasure. By and by he felt a certain wish to go after them, but dreading that if they carried their point, they would, in the future, come and tender advice still more immoderate, and that, were he to put on the airs of a superior to intimidate them, he would appear to be too deeply devoid of all feeling, he therefore, needless to say, thwarted the wish of his heart, and treated them just as if they were dead. And as anyway he was constrained also to live, alone though he was, he readily looked upon them, for the time being as departed, and did not worry his mind in the least on their account. On the contrary, he was able to feel happy and contented with his own society. Hence it was that bidding Ssu Erh trim the candles and brew the tea, he himself perused for a time the "Nan Hua Ching," and upon reaching the precept: "On thieves," given on some additional pages, the burden of which was: "Therefore by exterminating intuitive wisdom, and by discarding knowledge, highway robbers will cease to exist, and by taking off the jade and by putting away the pearls, pilferers will not spring to existence; by burning the slips and by breaking up the seals, by smashing the measures, and snapping the scales, the result will be that the people will not wrangle; by abrogating, to the utmost degree, wise rules under the heavens, the people will, at length, be able to take part in deliberation. By putting to confusion the musical scale, and destroying fifes and lutes, by deafening the ears of the blind Kuang, then, at last, will the human race in the world constrain his sense of hearing. By extinguishing literary compositions, by dispersing the five colours and by sticking the eyes of Li Chu, then, at length, mankind under the whole sky, will restrain the perception of his eyes. By destroying and eliminating the hooks and lines, by discarding the compasses and squares, and by amputating Kung Chui's fingers, the human race will ultimately succeed in constraining his ingenuity,"--his high spirits, on perusal of this passage, were so exultant that taking advantage of the exuberance caused by the wine, he picked up his pen, for he could not repress himself, and continued the text in this wise: "By burning the flower, (Hua-Hsi Jen) and dispersing the musk, (She Yüeh), the consequence will be that the inmates of the inner chambers will, eventually, keep advice to themselves. By obliterating Pao-ch'ai's supernatural beauty, by reducing to ashes Tai-yü's spiritual perception, and by destroying and extinguishing my affectionate preferences, the beautiful in the inner chambers as well as the plain will then, at length, be put on the same footing. And as they will keep advice to themselves, there will be no fear of any disagreement. By obliterating her supernatural beauty, I shall then have no incentive for any violent affection; by dissolving her spiritual perception, I will have no feelings with which to foster the memory of her talents. The hair-pin, jade, flower and musk (Pao-ch'ai, Tai-yü, Hsi Jen and She Yüeh) do each and all spread out their snares and dig mines, and thus succeed in inveigling and entrapping every one in the world." At the conclusion of this annex, he flung the pen away, and lay himself down to sleep. His head had barely reached the pillow before he at once fell fast asleep, remaining the whole night long perfectly unconscious of everything straight up to the break of day, when upon waking and turning himself round, he, at a glance, caught sight of no one else than Hsi Jen, sleeping in her clothes over the coverlet. Pao-yü had already banished from his mind every thought of what had transpired the previous day, so that forthwith giving Hsi Jen a push: "Get up!" he said, "and be careful where you sleep, as you may catch cold." The fact is that Hsi Jen was aware that he was, without regard to day or night, ever up to mischief with his female cousins; but presuming that if she earnestly called him to account, he would not mend his ways, she had, for this reason, had recourse to tender language to exhort him, in the hope that, in a short while, he would come round again to his better self. But against all her expectations Pao-yü had, after the lapse of a whole day and night, not changed the least in his manner, and as she really was in her heart quite at a loss what to do, she failed to find throughout the whole night any proper sleep. But when on this day, she unexpectedly perceived Pao-yü in this mood, she flattered herself that he had made up his mind to effect a change, and readily thought it best not to notice him. Pao-yü, seeing that she made no reply, forthwith stretched out his hand and undid her jacket; but he had just unclasped the button, when his arm was pushed away by Hsi Jen, who again made it fast herself. Pao-yü was so much at his wit's ends that he had no alternative but to take her hand and smilingly ask: "What's the matter with you, after all, that I've had to ask you something time after time?" Hsi Jen opened her eyes wide. "There's nothing really the matter with me!" she observed; "but as you're awake, you surely had better be going over into the opposite room to comb your hair and wash; for if you dilly-dally any longer, you won't be in time." "Where shall I go over to?" Pao-yü inquired. Hsi Jen gave a sarcastic grin. "Do you ask me?" she rejoined; "do I know? you're at perfect liberty to go over wherever you like; from this day forth you and I must part company so as to avoid fighting like cocks or brawling like geese, to the amusement of third parties. Indeed, when you get surfeited on that side, you come over to this, where there are, after all, such girls as Fours and Fives (Ssu Erh and Wu Erh) to dance attendance upon you. But such kind of things as ourselves uselessly defile fine names and fine surnames." "Do you still remember this to-day!" Pao-yü asked with a smirk. "Hundred years hence I shall still bear it in mind," Hsi Jen protested; "I'm not like you, who treat my words as so much wind blowing by the side of your ears, that what I've said at night, you've forgotten early in the morning." Pao-yü perceiving what a seductive though angry air pervaded her face found it difficult to repress his feelings, and speedily taking up, from the side of the pillow, a hair-pin made of jade, he dashed it down breaking it into two exclaiming: "If I again don't listen to your words, may I fare like this hair-pin." Hsi Jen immediately picked up the hair-pin, as she remarked: "What's up with you at this early hour of the morning? Whether you listen or not is of no consequence; and is it worth while that you should behave as you do?" "How can you know," Pao-yü answered, "the anguish in my heart!" "Do you also know what anguish means?" Hsi Jen observed laughing; "if you do, then you can judge what the state of my heart is! But be quick and get up, and wash your face and be off!" As she spoke, they both got out of bed and performed their toilette; but after Pao-yü had gone to the drawing rooms, and at a moment least expected by any one, Tai-yü walked into his apartment. Noticing that Pao-yü was not in, she was fumbling with the books on the table and examining them, when, as luck would have it, she turned up the Chuang Tzu of the previous day. Upon perusing the passage tagged on by Pao-yü, she could not help feeling both incensed and amused. Nor could she restrain herself from taking up the pen and appending a stanza to this effect: Who is that man, who of his pen, without good rhyme, made use, A toilsome task to do into the Chuang-tzu text to steal, Who for the knowledge he doth lack no sense of shame doth feel, But language vile and foul employs third parties to abuse? At the conclusion of what she had to write, she too came into the drawing room; but after paying her respects to dowager lady Chia, she walked over to madame Wang's quarters. Contrary to everybody's expectations, lady Feng's daughter, Ta Chieh Erh, had fallen ill, and a great fuss was just going on as the doctor had been sent for to diagnose her ailment. "My congratulations to you, ladies," the doctor explained; "this young lady has fever, as she has small-pox; indeed it's no other complaint!" As soon as madame Wang and lady Feng heard the tidings, they lost no time in sending round to ascertain whether she was getting on all right or not, and the doctor replied: "The symptoms are, it is true, serious, but favourable; but though after all importing no danger, it's necessary to get ready the silkworms and pigs' tails." When lady Feng received this report, she, there and then, hastened to make the necessary preparations, and while she had the rooms swept and oblations offered to the goddess of small-pox, she, at the same time, transmitted orders to her household to avoid viands fried or roasted in fat, or other such heating things; and also bade P'ing Erh get ready the bedding and clothes for Chia Lien in a separate room, and taking pieces of deep red cotton material, she distributed them to the nurses, waiting-maids and all the servants, who were in close attendance, to cut out clothes for themselves. And having had likewise some apartments outside swept clean, she detained two doctors to alternately deliberate on the treatment, feel the pulse and administer the medicines; and for twelve days, they were not at liberty to return to their homes; while Chia Lien had no help but to move his quarters temporarily into the outer library, and lady Feng and P'ing Erh remained both in daily attendance upon madame Wang in her devotions to the goddess. Chia Lien, now that he was separated from lady Feng, soon felt disposed to look round for a flame. He had only slept alone for a couple of nights, but these nights had been so intensely intolerable that he had no option than to choose, for the time being, from among the young pages, those who were of handsome appearance, and bring them over to relieve his monotony. In the Jung Kuo mansion, there was, it happened, a cook, a most useless, good-for-nothing drunkard, whose name was To Kuan, in whom people recognised an infirm and a useless husband so that they all dubbed him with the name of To Hun Ch'ung, the stupid worm To. As the wife given to him in marriage by his father and mother was this year just twenty, and possessed further several traits of beauty, and was also naturally of a flighty and frivolous disposition, she had an extreme penchant for violent flirtations. But To Hun-ch'ung, on the other hand, did not concern himself (with her deportment), and as long as he had wine, meat and money he paid no heed whatever to anything. And for this reason it was that all the men in the two mansions of Ning and Jung had been successful in their attentions; and as this woman was exceptionally fascinating and incomparably giddy, she was generally known by all by the name To Ku Ning (Miss To). Chia Lien, now that he had his quarters outside, chafed under the pangs of irksome ennui, yet he too, in days gone by, had set his eyes upon this woman, and had for long, watered in the mouth with admiration; but as, inside, he feared his winsome wife, and outside, he dreaded his beloved lads, he had not made any advances. But this To Ku Niang had likewise a liking for Chia Lien, and was full of resentment at the absence of a favourable opportunity; but she had recently come to hear that Chia Lien had shifted his quarters into the outer library, and her wont was, even in the absence of any legitimate purpose, to go over three and four times to entice him on; but though Chia Lien was, in every respect, like a rat smitten with hunger, he could not dispense with holding consultation with the young friends who enjoyed his confidence; and as he struck a bargain with them for a large amount of money and silks, how could they ever not have come to terms (with him to speak on his behalf)? Besides, they were all old friends of this woman, so that, as soon as they conveyed the proposal, she willingly accepted it. When night came To Hun Ch'ung was lying on the couch in a state of drunkenness, and at the second watch, when every one was quiet, Chia Lien at once slipped in, and they had their assignation. As soon as he gazed upon her face, he lost control over his senses, and without even one word of ordinary greeting or commonplace remark, they forthwith, fervently indulged in a most endearing tête-à-tête. This woman possessed, who could have thought it, a strange natural charm; for, as soon as any one of her lovers came within any close distance of her, he speedily could not but notice that her very tendons and bones mollified, paralysed-like from feeling, so that his was the sensation of basking in a soft bower of love. What is more, her demonstrative ways and free-and-easy talk put even those of a born coquette to shame, with the result that while Chia Lien, at this time, longed to become heart and soul one with her, the woman designedly indulged in immodest innuendoes. "Your daughter is at home," she insinuated in her recumbent position, "ill with the small-pox, and prayers are being offered to the goddess; and your duty too should be to abstain from love affairs for a couple of days, but on the contrary, by flirting with me, you've contaminated yourself! but, you'd better be off at once from me here!" "You're my goddess!" gaspingly protested Chia Lien, as he gave way to demonstrativeness; "what do I care about any other goddess!" The woman began to be still more indelicate in her manner, so that Chia Lien could not refrain himself from making a full exhibition of his warm sentiments. When their tête-à-tête had come to a close, they both went on again to vow by the mountains and swear by the seas, and though they found it difficult to part company and hard to tear themselves away, they, in due course, became, after this occasion, mutual sworn friends. But by a certain day the virus in Ta Chieh's system had become exhausted, and the spots subsided, and at the expiry of twelve days the goddess was removed, and the whole household offered sacrifices to heaven, worshipped the ancestors, paid their vows, burnt incense, exchanged congratulations, and distributed presents. And these formalities observed, Chia Lien once more moved back into his own bedroom and was reunited with lady Feng. The proverb is indeed true which says: "That a new marriage is not equal to a long separation," for there ensued between them demonstrations of loving affection still more numerous than heretofore, to which we need not, of course, refer with any minuteness. The next day, at an early hour, after lady Feng had gone into the upper rooms, P'ing Erh set to work to put in order the clothes and bedding, which had been brought from outside, when, contrary to her expectation, a tress of hair fell out from inside the pillow-case, as she was intent upon shaking it. P'ing Erh understood its import, and taking at once the hair, she concealed it in her sleeve, and there and then came over into the room on this side, where she produced the hair, and smirkingly asked Chia Lien, "What's this?" Chia Lien, at the sight of it, lost no time in making a snatch with the idea of depriving her of it; and when P'ing Erh speedily endeavoured to run away, she was clutched by Chia Lien, who put her down on the stove-couch, and came up to take it from her hand. "You heartless fellow!" P'ing Erh laughingly exclaimed, "I conceal this, with every good purpose, from her knowledge, and come to ask you about it, and you, on the contrary, fly into a rage! But wait till she comes back, and I'll tell her, and we'll see what will happen." At these words, Chia Lien hastily forced a smile. "Dear girl!" he entreated, "give it to me, and I won't venture again to fly into a passion." But hardly was this remark finished, when they heard the voice of lady Feng penetrate into the room. As soon as it reached the ear of Chia Lien, he was at a loss whether it was better to let her go or to snatch it away, and kept on shouting, "My dear girl! don't let her know." P'ing Erh at once rose to her feet; but lady Feng had already entered the room; and she went on to bid P'ing Erh be quick and open a box and find a pattern for madame Wang. P'ing Erh expressed her obedience with alacrity; but while in search of it, lady Feng caught sight of Chia Lien; and suddenly remembering something, she hastened to ask P'ing Erh about it. "The other day," she observed, "some things were taken out, and have you brought them all in or not?" "I have!" P'ing Erh assented. "Is there anything short or not?" lady Feng inquired. "I've carefully looked at them," P'ing Erh added, "and haven't found even one single thing short." "Is there anything in excess?" lady Feng went on to ascertain. P'ing Erh laughed. "It's enough," she rejoined, "that there's nothing short; and how could there really turn out to be anything over and above?" "That this half month," lady Feng continued still smiling, "things have gone on immaculately it would be hard to vouch; for some intimate friend there may have been, who possibly has left something behind, in the shape of a ring, handkerchief or other such object, there's no saying for certain!" While these words were being spoken, Chia Lien's face turned perfectly sallow, and, as he stood behind lady Feng, he was intent upon gazing at P'ing Erh, making signs to her (that he was going) to cut her throat as a chicken is killed, (threatening her not to utter a sound) and entreating her to screen him; but P'ing Erh pretended not to notice him, and consequently observed smiling: "How is it that my ideas should coincide with those of yours, my lady; and as I suspected that there may have been something of the kind, I carefully searched all over, but I didn't find even so much as the slightest thing wrong; and if you don't believe me, my lady, you can search for your own self." "You fool!" lady Feng laughed, "had he any things of the sort, would he be likely to let you and I discover them!" With these words still on her lips, she took the patterns and went her way; whereupon P'ing Erh pointed at her nose, and shook her head to and fro. "In this matter," she smiled, "how much you should be grateful to me!" A remark which so delighted Chia Lien that his eyebrows distended, and his eyes smiled, and running over, he clasped her in his embrace, and called her promiscuously: "My darling, my pet, my own treasure!" "This," observed P'ing Erh, with the tress in her hand, "will be my source of power, during all my lifetime! if you treat me kindly, then well and good! but if you behave unkindly, then we'll at once produce this thing!" "Do put it away, please," Chia Lien entreated smirkingly, "and don't, on an any account, let her know about it!" and as he uttered these words, he noticed that she was off her guard, and, with a snatch, readily grabbed it adding laughingly: "In your hands, it would be a source of woe, so that it's better that I should burn it, and have done with it!" Saying this he simultaneously shoved it down the sides of his boot, while P'ing Erh shouted as she set her teeth close: "You wicked man! you cross the river and then demolish the bridge! but do you imagine that I'll by and by again tell lies on your behalf!" Chia Lien perceiving how heart-stirring her seductive charms were, forthwith clasped her in his arms, and begged her to be his; but P'ing Erh snatched her hands out of his grasp and ran away out of the room; which so exasperated Chia Lien that as he bent his body, he exclaimed, full of indignation: "What a dreadful niggardly young wench! she actually sets her mind to stir up people's affections with her wanton blandishments, and then, after all, she runs away!" "If I be wanton, it's my own look-out;" P'ing Erh answered, from outside the window, with a grin, "and who told you to arouse your affections? Do you forsooth mean to imply that my wish is to become your tool? And did she come to know about it would she again ever forgive me?" "You needn't dread her!" Chia Lien urged; "wait till my monkey is up, and I'll take this jealous woman, and beat her to atoms; and she'll then know what stuff I'm made of. She watches me just as she would watch a thief! and she's only to hobnob with men, and I'm not to say a word to any girl! and if I do say aught to a girl, or get anywhere near one, she must at once give way to suspicion. But with no regard to younger brothers or nephews, to young and old, she prattles and giggles with them, and doesn't entertain any fear that I may be jealous; but henceforward I too won't allow her to set eyes upon any man." "If she be jealous, there's every reason," P'ing Erh answered, "but for you to be jealous on her account isn't right. Her conduct is really straightforward, and her deportment upright, but your conduct is actuated by an evil heart, so much so that even I don't feel my heart at ease, not to say anything of her." "You two," continued Chia Lien, "have a mouth full of malicious breath! Everything the couple of you do is invariably proper, while whatever I do is all from an evil heart! But some time or other I shall bring you both to your end with my own hands!" This sentence was scarcely at an end, when lady Feng walked into the court. "If you're bent upon chatting," she urgently inquired, upon seeing P'ing Erh outside the window, "why don't you go into the room? and what do you mean, instead, by running out, and speaking with the window between?" Chia Lien from inside took up the string of the conversation. "You should ask her," he said. "It would verily seem as if there were a tiger in the room to eat her up." "There's not a single person in the room," P'ing Erh rejoined, "and what shall I stay and do with him?" "It's just the proper thing that there should be no one else! Isn't it?" lady Feng remarked grinning sarcastically. "Do these words allude to me?" P'ing Erh hastily asked, as soon as she had heard what she said. Lady Feng forthwith laughed. "If they don't allude to you," she continued, "to whom do they?" "Don't press me to come out with some nice things!" P'ing Erh insinuated, and, as she spoke, she did not even raise the portiere (for lady Feng to enter), but straightway betook herself to the opposite side. Lady Feng lifted the portiere with her own hands, and walked into the room. "That girl P'ing Erh," she exclaimed, "has gone mad, and if this hussey does in real earnest wish to try and get the upper hand of me, it would be well for you to mind your skin." Chia Lien listened to her, as he kept reclining on the couch. "I never in the least knew," he ventured, clapping his hands and laughing, "that P'ing Erh was so dreadful; and I must, after all, from henceforth look up to her with respect!" "It's all through your humouring her," lady Feng rejoined; "so I'll simply settle scores with you and finish with it." "Ts'ui!" ejaculated Chia Lien at these words, "because you two can't agree, must you again make a scapegoat of me! Well then, I'll get out of the way of both of you!" "I'll see where you'll go and hide," lady Feng observed. "I've got somewhere to go!" Chia Lien added; and with these words, he was about to go, when lady Feng urged: "Don't be off! I have something to tell you." What it is, is not yet known, but, reader, listen to the account given in the next chapter. CHAPTER XXII. Upon hearing the text of the stanza, Pao-yü comprehends the Buddhistic spells. While the enigmas for the lanterns are being devised, Chia Cheng is grieved by a prognostic. Chia Lien, for we must now prosecute our story, upon hearing lady Feng observe that she had something to consult about with him, felt constrained to halt and to inquire what it was about. "On the 21st," lady Feng explained, "is cousin Hsüeh's birthday, and what do you, after all, purpose doing?" "Do I know what to do?" exclaimed Chia Lien; "you have made, time and again, arrangements for ever so many birthdays of grown-up people, and do you, really, find yourself on this occasion without any resources?" "Birthdays of grown-up people are subject to prescribed rules," lady Feng expostulated; "but her present birthday is neither one of an adult nor that of an infant, and that's why I would like to deliberate with you!" Chia Lien upon hearing this remark, lowered his head and gave himself to protracted reflection. "You're indeed grown dull!" he cried; "why you've a precedent ready at hand to suit your case! Cousin Lin's birthday affords a precedent, and what you did in former years for cousin Lin, you can in this instance likewise do for cousin Hsüeh, and it will be all right." At these words lady Feng gave a sarcastic smile. "Do you, pray, mean to insinuate," she added, "that I'm not aware of even this! I too had previously come, after some thought, to this conclusion; but old lady Chia explained, in my hearing yesterday, that having made inquiries about all their ages and their birthdays, she learnt that cousin Hsüeh would this year be fifteen, and that though this was not the birthday, which made her of age, she could anyhow well be regarded as being on the dawn of the year, in which she would gather up her hair, so that our dowager lady enjoined that her anniversary should, as a matter of course, be celebrated, unlike that of cousin Lin." "Well, in that case," Chia Lien suggested, "you had better make a few additions to what was done for cousin Lin!" "That's what I too am thinking of," lady Feng replied, "and that's why I'm asking your views; for were I, on my own hook, to add anything you would again feel hurt for my not have explained things to you." "That will do, that will do!" Chia Lien rejoined laughing, "none of these sham attentions for me! So long as you don't pry into my doings it will be enough; and will I go so far as to bear you a grudge?" With these words still in his mouth, he forthwith went off. But leaving him alone we shall now return to Shih Hsiang-yün. After a stay of a couple of days, her intention was to go back, but dowager lady Chia said: "Wait until after you have seen the theatrical performance, when you can return home." At this proposal, Shih Hsiang-yün felt constrained to remain, but she, at the same time, despatched a servant to her home to fetch two pieces of needlework, which she had in former days worked with her own hands, for a birthday present for Pao-ch'ai. Contrary to all expectations old lady Chia had, since the arrival of Pao-ch'ai, taken quite a fancy to her, for her sedateness and good nature, and as this happened to be the first birthday which she was about to celebrate (in the family) she herself readily contributed twenty taels which, after sending for lady Feng, she handed over to her, to make arrangements for a banquet and performance. "A venerable senior like yourself," lady Feng thereupon smiled and ventured, with a view to enhancing her good cheer, "is at liberty to celebrate the birthday of a child in any way agreeable to you, without any one presuming to raise any objection; but what's the use again of giving a banquet? But since it be your good pleasure and your purpose to have it celebrated with éclat, you could, needless to say, your own self have spent several taels from the private funds in that old treasury of yours! But you now produce those twenty taels, spoiled by damp and mould, to play the hostess with, with the view indeed of compelling us to supply what's wanted! But hadn't you really been able to contribute any more, no one would have a word to say; but the gold and silver, round as well as flat, have with their heavy weight pressed down the bottom of the box! and your sole object is to harass us and to extort from us. But raise your eyes and look about you; who isn't your venerable ladyship's son and daughter? and is it likely, pray, that in the future there will only be cousin Pao-yü to carry you, our old lady, on his head, up the Wu T'ai Shan? You may keep all these things for him alone! but though we mayn't at present, deserve that anything should be spent upon us, you shouldn't go so far as to place us in any perplexities (by compelling us to subscribe). And is this now enough for wines, and enough for the theatricals?" As she bandied these words, every one in the whole room burst out laughing, and even dowager lady Chia broke out in laughter while she observed: "Do you listen to that mouth? I myself am looked upon as having the gift of the gab, but why is it that I can't talk in such a wise as to put down this monkey? Your mother-in-law herself doesn't dare to be so overbearing in her speech; and here you are jabber, jabber with me!" "My mother-in-law," explained lady Feng, "is also as fond of Pao-yü as you are, so much so that I haven't anywhere I could go and give vent to my grievances; and instead of (showing me some regard) you say that I'm overbearing in my speech!" With these words, she again enticed dowager lady Chia to laugh for a while. The old lady continued in the highest of spirits, and, when evening came, and they all appeared in her presence to pay their obeisance, her ladyship made it a point, while the whole company of ladies and young ladies were engaged in chatting, to ascertain of Pao-ch'ai what play she liked to hear, and what things she fancied to eat. Pao-ch'ai was well aware that dowager lady Chia, well up in years though she was, delighted in sensational performances, and was partial to sweet and tender viands, so that she readily deferred, in every respect, to those things, which were to the taste of her ladyship, and enumerated a whole number of them, which made the old lady become the more exuberant. And the next day, she was the first to send over clothes, nicknacks and such presents, while madame Wang and lady Feng, Tai-yü and the other girls, as well as the whole number of inmates had all presents for her, regulated by their degree of relationship, to which we need not allude in detail. When the 21st arrived, a stage of an ordinary kind, small but yet handy, was improvised in dowager lady Chia's inner court, and a troupe of young actors, who had newly made their début, was retained for the nonce, among whom were both those who could sing tunes, slow as well as fast. In the drawing rooms of the old lady were then laid out several tables for a family banquet and entertainment, at which there was not a single outside guest; and with the exception of Mrs. Hsüeh, Shih Hsiang-yün, and Pao-ch'ai, who were visitors, the rest were all inmates of her household. On this day, Pao-yü failed, at any early hour, to see anything of Lin Tai-yü, and coming at once to her rooms in search of her, he discovered her reclining on the stove-couch. "Get up," Pao-yü pressed her with a smile, "and come and have breakfast, for the plays will commence shortly; but whichever plays you would like to listen to, do tell me so that I may be able to choose them." Tai-yü smiled sarcastically. "In that case," she rejoined, "you had better specially engage a troupe and select those I like sung for my benefit; for on this occasion you can't be so impertinent as to make use of their expense to ask me what I like!" "What's there impossible about this?" Pao-yü answered smiling; "well, to-morrow I'll readily do as you wish, and ask them too to make use of what is yours and mine." As he passed this remark, he pulled her up, and taking her hand in his own, they walked out of the room and came and had breakfast. When the time arrived to make a selection of the plays, dowager lady Chia of her own motion first asked Pao-ch'ai to mark off those she liked; and though for a time Pao-ch'ai declined, yielding the choice to others, she had no alternative but to decide, fixing upon a play called, "the Record of the Western Tour," a play of which the old lady was herself very fond. Next in order, she bade lady Feng choose, and lady Feng, had, after all, in spite of madame Wang ranking before her in precedence, to consider old lady Chia's request, and not to presume to show obstinacy by any disobedience. But as she knew well enough that her ladyship had a penchant for what was exciting, and that she was still more partial to jests, jokes, epigrams, and buffoonery, she therefore hastened to precede (madame Wang) and to choose a play, which was in fact no other than "Liu Erh pawns his clothes." Dowager lady Chia was, of course, still more elated. And after this she speedily went on to ask Tai-yü to choose. Tai-yü likewise concedingly yielded her turn in favour of madame Wang and the other seniors, to make their selections before her, but the old lady expostulated. "To-day," she said, "is primarily an occasion, on which I've brought all of you here for your special recreation; and we had better look after our own selves and not heed them! For have I, do you imagine, gone to the trouble of having a performance and laying a feast for their special benefit? they're already reaping benefit enough by being in here, listening to the plays and partaking of the banquet, when they have no right to either; and are they to be pressed further to make a choice of plays?" At these words, the whole company had a hearty laugh; after which, Tai-yü, at length, marked off a play; next in order following Pao-yü, Shih Hsiang-yün, Ying-ch'un, T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un, widow Li Wan, and the rest, each and all of whom made a choice of plays, which were sung in the costumes necessary for each. When the time came to take their places at the banquet, dowager lady Chia bade Pao-ch'ai make another selection, and Pao-ch'ai cast her choice upon the play: "Lu Chih-shen, in a fit of drunkenness stirs up a disturbance up the Wu T'ai mountain;" whereupon Pao-yü interposed, with the remark: "All you fancy is to choose plays of this kind;" to which Pao-ch'ai rejoined, "You've listened to plays all these years to no avail! How could you know the beauties of this play? the stage effect is grand, but what is still better are the apt and elegant passages in it." "I've always had a dread of such sensational plays as these!" Pao-yü retorted. "If you call this play sensational," Pao-ch'ai smilingly expostulated, "well then you may fitly be looked upon as being no connoisseur of plays. But come over and I'll tell you. This play constitutes one of a set of books, entitled the 'Pei Tien Peng Ch'un,' which, as far as harmony, musical rests and closes, and tune go, is, it goes without saying, perfect; but there's among the elegant compositions a ballad entitled: 'the Parasitic Plant,' written in a most excellent style; but how could you know anything about it?" Pao-yü, upon hearing her speak of such points of beauty, hastily drew near to her. "My dear cousin," he entreated, "recite it and let me hear it!" Whereupon Pao-ch'ai went on as follows: My manly tears I will not wipe away, But from this place, the scholar's home, I'll stray. The bonze for mercy I shall thank; under the lotus altar shave my pate; With Yüan to be the luck I lack; soon in a twinkle we shall separate, And needy and forlorn I'll come and go, with none to care about my fate. Thither shall I a suppliant be for a fog wrapper and rain hat; my warrant I shall roll, And listless with straw shoes and broken bowl, wherever to convert my fate may be, I'll stroll. As soon as Pao-yü had listened to her recital, he was so full of enthusiasm, that, clapping his knees with his hands, and shaking his head, he gave vent to incessant praise; after which he went on to extol Pao-ch'ai, saying: "There's no book that you don't know." "Be quiet, and listen to the play," Lin Tai-yü urged; "they haven't yet sung about the mountain gate, and you already pretend to be mad!" At these words, Hsiang-yün also laughed. But, in due course, the whole party watched the performance until evening, when they broke up. Dowager lady Chia was so very much taken with the young actor, who played the role of a lady, as well as with the one who acted the buffoon, that she gave orders that they should be brought in; and, as she looked at them closely, she felt so much the more interest in them, that she went on to inquire what their ages were. And when the would-be lady (replied) that he was just eleven, while the would-be buffoon (explained) that he was just nine, the whole company gave vent for a time to expressions of sympathy with their lot; while dowager lady Chia bade servants bring a fresh supply of meats and fruits for both of them, and also gave them, besides their wages, two tiaos as a present. "This lad," lady Feng observed smiling, "is when dressed up (as a girl), a living likeness of a certain person; did you notice it just now?" Pao-ch'ai was also aware of the fact, but she simply nodded her head assentingly and did not say who it was. Pao-yü likewise expressed his assent by shaking his head, but he too did not presume to speak out. Shih Hsiang-yün, however, readily took up the conversation. "He resembles," she interposed, "cousin Lin's face!" When this remark reached Pao-yü's ear, he hastened to cast an angry scowl at Hsiang-yün, and to make her a sign; while the whole party, upon hearing what had been said, indulged in careful and minute scrutiny of (the lad); and as they all began to laugh: "The resemblance is indeed striking!" they exclaimed. After a while, they parted; and when evening came Hsiang-yün directed Ts'ui Lü to pack up her clothes. "What's the hurry?" Ts'ui Lü asked. "There will be ample time to pack up, on the day on which we go!" "We'll go to-morrow," Hsiang-yün rejoined; "for what's the use of remaining here any longer--to look at people's mouths and faces?" Pao-yü, at these words, lost no time in pressing forward. "My dear cousin," he urged; "you're wrong in bearing me a grudge! My cousin Lin is a girl so very touchy, that though every one else distinctly knew (of the resemblance), they wouldn't speak out; and all because they were afraid that she would get angry; but unexpectedly out you came with it, at a moment when off your guard; and how ever couldn't she but feel hurt? and it's because I was in dread that you would give offence to people that I then winked at you; and now here you are angry with me; but isn't that being ungrateful to me? Had it been any one else, would I have cared whether she had given offence to even ten; that would have been none of my business!" Hsiang-yün waved her hand: "Don't," she added, "come and tell me these flowery words and this specious talk, for I really can't come up to your cousin Lin. If others poke fun at her, they all do so with impunity, while if I say anything, I at once incur blame. The fact is I shouldn't have spoken of her, undeserving as I am; and as she's the daughter of a master, while I'm a slave, a mere servant girl, I've heaped insult upon her!" "And yet," pleaded Pao-yü, full of perplexity, "I had done it for your sake; and through this, I've come in for reproach. But if it were with an evil heart I did so, may I at once become ashes, and be trampled upon by ten thousands of people!" "In this felicitous firstmonth," Hsiang-yün remonstrated, "you shouldn't talk so much reckless nonsense! All these worthless despicable oaths, disjointed words, and corrupt language, go and tell for the benefit of those mean sort of people, who in everything take pleasure in irritating others, and who keep you under their thumb! But mind don't drive me to spit contemptuously at you." As she gave utterance to these words, she betook herself in the inner room of dowager lady Chia's suite of apartments, where she lay down in high dudgeon, and, as Pao-yü was so heavy at heart, he could not help coming again in search of Tai-yü; but strange to say, as soon as he put his foot inside the doorway, he was speedily hustled out of it by Tai-yü, who shut the door in his face. Pao-yü was once more unable to fathom her motives, and as he stood outside the window, he kept on calling out: "My dear cousin," in a low tone of voice; but Tai-yü paid not the slightest notice to him so that Pao-yü became so melancholy that he drooped his head, and was plunged in silence. And though Hsi Jen had, at an early hour, come to know the circumstances, she could not very well at this juncture tender any advice. Pao-yü remained standing in such a vacant mood that Tai-yü imagined that he had gone back; but when she came to open the door she caught sight of Pao-yü still waiting in there; and as Tai-yü did not feel justified to again close the door, Pao-yü consequently followed her in. "Every thing has," he observed, "a why and a wherefore; which, when spoken out, don't even give people pain; but you will rush into a rage, and all without any rhyme! but to what really does it owe its rise?" "It's well enough, after all, for you to ask me," Tai-yü rejoined with an indifferent smile, "but I myself don't know why! But am I here to afford you people amusement that you will compare me to an actress, and make the whole lot have a laugh at me?" "I never did liken you to anything," Pao-yü protested, "neither did I ever laugh at you! and why then will you get angry with me?" "Was it necessary that you should have done so much as made the comparison," Tai-yü urged, "and was there any need of even any laughter from you? why, though you mayn't have likened me to anything, or had a laugh at my expense, you were, yea more dreadful than those who did compare me (to a singing girl) and ridiculed me!" Pao-yü could not find anything with which to refute the argument he had just heard, and Tai-yü went on to say. "This offence can, anyhow, be condoned; but, what is more, why did you also wink at Yün Erh? What was this idea which you had resolved in your mind? wasn't it perhaps that if she played with me, she would be demeaning herself, and making herself cheap? She's the daughter of a duke or a marquis, and we forsooth the mean progeny of a poor plebeian family; so that, had she diverted herself with me, wouldn't she have exposed herself to being depreciated, had I, perchance, said anything in retaliation? This was your idea wasn't it? But though your purpose was, to be sure, honest enough, that girl wouldn't, however, receive any favours from you, but got angry with you just as much as I did; and though she made me also a tool to do you a good turn, she, on the contrary, asserts that I'm mean by nature and take pleasure in irritating people in everything! and you again were afraid lest she should have hurt my feelings, but, had I had a row with her, what would that have been to you? and had she given me any offence, what concern would that too have been of yours?" When Pao-yü heard these words, he at once became alive to the fact that she too had lent an ear to the private conversation he had had a short while back with Hsiang-yün: "All because of my, fears," he carefully mused within himself, "lest these two should have a misunderstanding, I was induced to come between them, and act as a mediator; but I myself have, contrary to my hopes, incurred blame and abuse on both sides! This just accords with what I read the other day in the Nan Hua Ching. 'The ingenious toil, the wise are full of care; the good-for-nothing seek for nothing, they feed on vegetables, and roam where they list; they wander purposeless like a boat not made fast!' 'The mountain trees,' the text goes on to say, 'lead to their own devastation; the spring (conduces) to its own plunder; and so on." And the more he therefore indulged in reflection, the more depressed he felt. "Now there are only these few girls," he proceeded to ponder minutely, "and yet, I'm unable to treat them in such a way as to promote perfect harmony; and what will I forsooth do by and by (when there will be more to deal with)!" When he had reached this point in his cogitations, (he decided) that it was really of no avail to agree with her, so that turning round, he was making his way all alone into his apartments; but Lin Tai-yü, upon noticing that he had left her side, readily concluded that reflection had marred his spirits and that he had so thoroughly lost his temper as to be going without even giving vent to a single word, and she could not restrain herself from feeling inwardly more and more irritated. "After you've gone this time," she hastily exclaimed, "don't come again, even for a whole lifetime; and I won't have you either so much as speak to me!" Pao-yü paid no heed to her, but came back to his rooms, and laying himself down on his bed, he kept on muttering in a state of chagrin; and though Hsi Jen knew full well the reasons of his dejection, she found it difficult to summon up courage to say anything to him at the moment, and she had no alternative but to try and distract him by means of irrelevant matters. "The theatricals which you've seen to-day," she consequently observed smiling, "will again lead to performances for several days, and Miss Pao-ch'ai will, I'm sure, give a return feast." "Whether she gives a return feast or not," Pao-yü rejoined with an apathetic smirk, "is no concern of mine!" When Hsi Jen perceived the tone, so unlike that of other days, with which these words were pronounced: "What's this that you're saying?" she therefore remarked as she gave another smile. "In this pleasant and propitious first moon, when all the ladies and young ladies are in high glee, how is it that you're again in a mood of this sort?" "Whether the ladies and my cousins be in high spirits or not," Pao-yü replied forcing a grin, "is also perfectly immaterial to me." "They are all," Hsi Jen added, smilingly, "pleasant and agreeable, and were you also a little pleasant and agreeable, wouldn't it conduce to the enjoyment of the whole company?" "What about the whole company, and they and I?" Pao-yü urged. "They all have their mutual friendships; while I, poor fellow, all forlorn, have none to care a rap for me." His remarks had reached this clause, when inadvertently the tears trickled down; and Hsi Jen realising the state of mind he was in, did not venture to say anything further. But as soon as Pao-yü had reflected minutely over the sense and import of this sentence, he could not refrain from bursting forth into a loud fit of crying, and, turning himself round, he stood up, and, drawing near the table, he took up the pencil, and eagerly composed these enigmatical lines: If thou wert me to test, and I were thee to test, Our hearts were we to test, and our minds to test, When naught more there remains for us to test That will yea very well be called a test, And when there's naught to put, we could say, to the test, We will a place set up on which our feet to rest. After he had finished writing, he again gave way to fears that though he himself could unfold their meaning, others, who came to peruse these lines, would not be able to fathom them, and he also went on consequently to indite another stanza, in imitation of the "Parasitic Plant," which he inscribed at the close of the enigma; and when he had read it over a second time, he felt his heart so free of all concern that forthwith he got into his bed, and went to sleep. But, who would have thought it, Tai-yü, upon seeing Pao-yü take his departure in such an abrupt manner, designedly made use of the excuse that she was bent upon finding Hsi Jen, to come round and see what he was up to. "He's gone to sleep long ago!" Hsi Jen replied. At these words, Tai-yü felt inclined to betake herself back at once; but Hsi Jen smiled and said: "Please stop, miss. Here's a slip of paper, and see what there is on it!" and speedily taking what Pao-yü had written a short while back, she handed it over to Tai-yü to examine. Tai-yü, on perusal, discovered that Pao-yü had composed it, at the spur of the moment, when under the influence of resentment; and she could not help thinking it both a matter of ridicule as well as of regret; but she hastily explained to Hsi Jen: "This is written for fun, and there's nothing of any consequence in it!" and having concluded this remark, she readily took it along with her to her room, where she conned it over in company with Hsiang-yün; handing it also the next day to Pao-ch'ai to peruse. The burden of what Pao-ch'ai read was: In what was no concern of mine, I should to thee have paid no heed, For while I humour this, that one to please I don't succeed! Act as thy wish may be! go, come whene'er thou list; 'tis naught to me. Sorrow or joy, without limit or bound, to indulge thou art free! What is this hazy notion about relatives distant or close? For what purpose have I for all these days racked my heart with woes? Even at this time when I look back and think, my mind no pleasure knows. After having finished its perusal, she went on to glance at the Buddhistic stanza, and smiling: "This being," she soliloquised; "has awakened to a sense of perception; and all through my fault, for it's that ballad of mine yesterday which has incited this! But the subtle devices in all these rationalistic books have a most easy tendency to unsettle the natural disposition, and if to-morrow he does actually get up, and talk a lot of insane trash, won't his having fostered this idea owe its origin to that ballad of mine; and shan't I have become the prime of all guilty people?" Saying this, she promptly tore the paper, and, delivering the pieces to the servant girls, she bade them go at once and burn them. "You shouldn't have torn it!" Tai-yü remonstrated laughingly. "But wait and I'll ask him about it! so come along all of you, and I vouch I'll make him abandon that idiotic frame of mind and that depraved language." The three of them crossed over, in point of fact, into Pao-yü's room, and Tai-yü was the first to smile and observe. "Pao-yü, may I ask you something? What is most valuable is a precious thing; and what is most firm is jade, but what value do you possess and what firmness is innate in you?" But as Pao-yü could not, say anything by way of reply, two of them remarked sneeringly: "With all this doltish bluntness of his will he after all absorb himself in abstraction?" While Hsiang-yün also clapped her hands and laughed, "Cousin Pao has been discomfited." "The latter part of that apothegm of yours," Tai-yü continued, "says: "We would then find some place on which our feet to rest. "Which is certainly good; but in my view, its excellence is not as yet complete! and I should still tag on two lines at its close;" as she proceeded to recite: "If we do not set up some place on which our feet to rest, For peace and freedom then it will be best." "There should, in very truth, be this adjunct to make it thoroughly explicit!" Pao-ch'ai added. "In days of yore, the sixth founder of the Southern sect, Hui Neng, came, when he went first in search of his patron, in the Shao Chou district; and upon hearing that the fifth founder, Hung Jen, was at Huang Mei, he readily entered his service in the capacity of Buddhist cook; and when the fifth founder, prompted by a wish to select a Buddhistic successor, bade his neophytes and all the bonzes to each compose an enigmatical stanza, the one who occupied the upper seat, Shen Hsiu, recited: "A P'u T'i tree the body is, the heart so like a stand of mirror bright, On which must needs, by constant careful rubbing, not be left dust to alight! "And Hui Neng, who was at this time in the cook-house pounding rice, overheard this enigma. 'Excellent, it is excellent,' he ventured, 'but as far as completeness goes it isn't complete;' and having bethought himself of an apothegm: 'The P'u T'i, (an expression for Buddha or intelligence),' he proceeded, 'is really no tree; and the resplendent mirror, (Buddhistic term for heart), is likewise no stand; and as, in fact, they do not constitute any tangible objects, how could they be contaminated by particles of dust?' Whereupon the fifth founder at once took his robe and clap-dish and handed them to him. Well, the text now of this enigma presents too this identical idea, for the simple fact is that those lines full of subtleties of a short while back are not, as yet, perfected or brought to an issue, and do you forsooth readily give up the task in this manner?" "He hasn't been able to make any reply," Tai-yü rejoined sneeringly, "and must therefore be held to be discomfited; but were he even to make suitable answer now, there would be nothing out of the common about it! Anyhow, from this time forth you mustn't talk about Buddhistic spells, for what even we two know and are able to do, you don't as yet know and can't do; and do you go and concern yourself with abstraction?" Pao-yü had, in his own mind, been under the impression that he had attained perception, but when he was unawares and all of a sudden subjected to this question by Tai-yü, he soon found it beyond his power to give any ready answer. And when Pao-ch'ai furthermore came out with a religious disquisition, by way of illustration, and this on subjects, in all of which he had hitherto not seen them display any ability, he communed within himself: "If with their knowledge, which is indeed in advance of that of mine, they haven't, as yet, attained perception, what need is there for me now to bring upon myself labour and vexation?" "Who has, pray," he hastily inquired smilingly, after arriving at the end of his reflections, "indulged in Buddhistic mysteries? what I did amounts to nothing more than nonsensical trash, written, at the spur of the moment, and nothing else." At the close of this remark all four came to be again on the same terms as of old; but suddenly a servant announced that the Empress (Yüan Ch'un) had despatched a messenger to bring over a lantern-conundrum with the directions that they should all go and guess it, and that after they had found it out, they should each also devise one and send it in. At these words, the four of them left the room with hasty step, and adjourned into dowager lady Chia's drawing room, where they discovered a young eunuch, holding a four-cornered, flat-topped lantern, of white gauze, which had been specially fabricated for lantern riddles. On the front side, there was already a conundrum, and the whole company were vying with each other in looking at it and making wild guesses; when the young eunuch went on to transmit his orders, saying: "Young ladies, you should not speak out when you are guessing; but each one of you should secretly write down the solutions for me to wrap them up, and take them all in together to await her Majesty's personal inspection as to whether they be correct or not." Upon listening to these words, Pao-ch'ai drew near, and perceived at a glance, that it consisted of a stanza of four lines, with seven characters in each; but though there was no novelty or remarkable feature about it, she felt constrained to outwardly give utterance to words of praise. "It's hard to guess!" she simply added, while she pretended to be plunged in thought, for the fact is that as soon as she had cast her eye upon it, she had at once solved it. Pao-yü, Tai-yü, Hsiang-yün, and T'an-ch'un, had all four also hit upon the answer, and each had secretly put it in writing; and Chia Huan, Chia Lan and the others were at the same time sent for, and every one of them set to work to exert the energies of his mind, and, when they arrived at a guess, they noted it down on paper; after which every individual member of the family made a choice of some object, and composed a riddle, which was transcribed in a large round hand, and affixed on the lantern. This done, the eunuch took his departure, and when evening drew near, he came out and delivered the commands of the imperial consort. "The conundrum," he said, "written by Her Highness, the other day, has been solved by every one, with the exception of Miss Secunda and master Tertius, who made a wrong guess. Those composed by you, young ladies, have likewise all been guessed; but Her Majesty does not know whether her solutions are right or not." While speaking, he again produced the riddles, which had been written by them, among which were those which had been solved, as well as those which had not been solved; and the eunuch, in like manner, took the presents, conferred by the imperial consort, and handed them over to those who had guessed right. To each person was assigned a bamboo vase, inscribed with verses, which had been manufactured for palace use, as well as articles of bamboo for tea; with the exception of Ying-ch'un and Chia Huan, who were the only two persons who did not receive any. But as Ying-ch'un looked upon the whole thing as a joke and a trifle, she did not trouble her mind on that score, but Chia Huan at once felt very disconsolate. "This one devised by Mr. Tertius," the eunuch was further heard to say, "is not properly done; and as Her Majesty herself has been unable to guess it she commanded me to bring it back, and ask Mr. Tertius what it is about." After the party had listened to these words, they all pressed forward to see what had been written. The burden of it was this: The elder brother has horns only eight; The second brother has horns only two; The elder brother on the bed doth sit; Inside the room the second likes to squat. After perusal of these lines, they broke out, with one voice, into a loud fit of laughter; and Chia Huan had to explain to the eunuch that the one was a pillow, and the other the head of an animal. Having committed the explanation to memory and accepted a cup of tea, the eunuch took his departure; and old lady Chia, noticing in what buoyant spirits Yüan Ch'un was, felt herself so much the more elated, that issuing forthwith directions to devise, with every despatch, a small but ingenious lantern of fine texture in the shape of a screen, and put it in the Hall, she bade each of her grandchildren secretly compose a conundrum, copy it out clean, and affix it on the frame of the lantern; and she had subsequently scented tea and fine fruits, as well as every kind of nicknacks, got ready, as prizes for those who guessed right. And when Chia Cheng came from court and found the old lady in such high glee he also came over in the evening, as the season was furthermore holiday time, to avail himself of her good cheer to reap some enjoyment. In the upper part of the room seated themselves, at one table dowager lady Chia, Chia Cheng, and Pao-yü; madame Wang, Pao-ch'ai, Tai-yü, Hsiang-yün sat round another table, and Ying-ch'un, Tan-ch'un and Hsi Ch'un the three of them, occupied a separate table, and both these tables were laid in the lower part, while below, all over the floor, stood matrons and waiting-maids for Li Kung-ts'ai and Hsi-feng were both seated in the inner section of the Hall, at another table. Chia Chen failed to see Chia Lan, and he therefore inquired: "How is it I don't see brother Lan," whereupon the female servants, standing below, hastily entered the inner room and made inquiries of widow Li. "He says," Mrs. Li stood up and rejoined with a smile, "that as your master didn't go just then to ask him round, he has no wish to come!" and when a matron delivered the reply to Chia Cheng; the whole company exclaimed much amused: "How obstinate and perverse his natural disposition is!" But Chia Cheng lost no time in sending Chia Huan, together with two matrons, to fetch Chia Lan; and, on his arrival, dowager lady Chia bade him sit by her side, and, taking a handful of fruits, she gave them to him to eat; after which the party chatted, laughed, and enjoyed themselves. Ordinarily, there was no one but Pao-yü to say much or talk at any length, but on this day, with Chia Cheng present, his remarks were limited to assents. And as to the rest, Hsiang-yün had, though a young girl, and of delicate physique, nevertheless ever been very fond of talking and discussing; but, on this instance, Chia Cheng was at the feast, so that she also held her tongue and restrained her words. As for Tai-yü she was naturally peevish and listless, and not very much inclined to indulge in conversation; while Pao-ch'ai, who had never been reckless in her words or frivolous in her deportment, likewise behaved on the present occasion in her usual dignified manner. Hence it was that this banquet, although a family party, given for the sake of relaxation, assumed contrariwise an appearance of restraint, and as old lady Chia was herself too well aware that it was to be ascribed to the presence of Chia Cheng alone, she therefore, after the wine had gone round three times, forthwith hurried off Chia Cheng to retire to rest. No less cognisant was Chia Cheng himself that the old lady's motives in packing him off were to afford a favourable opportunity to the young ladies and young men to enjoy themselves, and that is why, forcing a smile, he observed: "Having to-day heard that your venerable ladyship had got up in here a large assortment of excellent riddles, on the occasion of the spring festival of lanterns, I too consequently prepared prizes, as well as a banquet, and came with the express purpose of joining the company; and why don't you in some way confer a fraction of the fond love, which you cherish for your grandsons and granddaughters, upon me also, your son?" "When you're here," old lady Chia replied smilingly, "they won't venture to chat or laugh; and unless you go, you'll really fill me with intense dejection! But if you feel inclined to guess conundrums, well, I'll tell you one for you to solve; but if you don't guess right, mind, you'll be mulcted!" "Of course I'll submit to the penalty," Chia Cheng rejoined eagerly, as he laughed, "but if I do guess right, I must in like manner receive a reward!" "This goes without saying!" dowager lady Chia added; whereupon she went on to recite: The monkey's body gently rests on the tree top! "This refers," she said, "to the name of a fruit." Chia Cheng was already aware that it was a lichee, but he designedly made a few guesses at random, and was fined several things; but he subsequently gave, at length, the right answer, and also obtained a present from her ladyship. In due course he too set forth this conundrum for old lady Chia to guess: Correct its body is in appearance, Both firm and solid is it in substance; To words, it is true, it cannot give vent, But spoken to, it always does assent. When he had done reciting it, he communicated the answer in an undertone to Pao-yü; and Pao-yü fathoming what his intention was, gently too told his grandmother Chia, and her ladyship finding, after some reflection, that there was really no mistake about it, readily remarked that it was an inkslab. "After all," Chia Cheng smiled; "Your venerable ladyship it is who can hit the right answer with one guess!" and turning his head round, "Be quick," he cried, "and bring the prizes and present them!" whereupon the married women and waiting-maids below assented with one voice, and they simultaneously handed up the large trays and small boxes. Old lady Chia passed the things, one by one, under inspection; and finding that they consisted of various kinds of articles, novel and ingenious, of use and of ornament, in vogue during the lantern festival, her heart was so deeply elated that with alacrity she shouted, "Pour a glass of wine for your master!" Pao-yü took hold of the decanter, while Ying Ch'un presented the cup of wine. "Look on that screen!" continued dowager lady Chia, "all those riddles have been written by the young ladies; so go and guess them for my benefit!" Chia Cheng signified his obedience, and rising and walking up to the front of the screen, he noticed the first riddle, which was one composed by the Imperial consort Yüan, in this strain: The pluck of devils to repress in influence it abounds, Like bound silk is its frame, and like thunder its breath resounds. But one report rattles, and men are lo! in fear and dread; Transformed to ashes 'tis what time to see you turn the head. "Is this a cracker?" Chia Cheng inquired. "It is," Pao-yü assented. Chia Cheng then went on to peruse that of Ying-Ch'un's, which referred to an article of use: Exhaustless is the principle of heavenly calculations and of human skill; Skill may exist, but without proper practice the result to find hard yet will be! Whence cometh all this mixed confusion on a day so still? Simply it is because the figures Yin and Yang do not agree. "It's an abacus," Chia Cheng observed. "Quite so!" replied Ying Ch'un smiling; after which they also conned the one below, by T'an-ch'un, which ran thus and had something to do with an object: This is the time when 'neath the stairs the pages their heads raise! The term of "pure brightness" is the meetest time this thing to make! The vagrant silk it snaps, and slack, without tension it strays! The East wind don't begrudge because its farewell it did take! "It would seem," Chia Cheng suggested, "as if that must be a kite!" "It is," answered T'an C'h'un; whereupon Chia Cheng read the one below, which was written by Tai-yü to this effect and bore upon some thing: After the audience, his two sleeves who brings with fumes replete? Both by the lute and in the quilt, it lacks luck to abide! The dawn it marks; reports from cock and man renders effete! At midnight, maids no trouble have a new one to provide! The head, it glows during the day, as well as in the night! Its heart, it burns from day to day and 'gain from year to year! Time swiftly flies and mete it is that we should hold it dear! Changes might come, but it defies wind, rain, days dark or bright! "Isn't this a scented stick to show the watch?" Chia Cheng inquired. "Yes!" assented Pao-yü, speaking on Tai-yü's behalf; and Chia Cheng thereupon prosecuted the perusal of a conundrum, which ran as follows, and referred to an object; With the South, it sits face to face, And the North, the while, it doth face; If the figure be sad, it also is sad, If the figure be glad, it likewise is glad! "Splendid! splendid!" exclaimed Chia Cheng, "my guess is that it's a looking-glass. It's excellently done!" Pao-yü smiled. "It is a looking glass!" he rejoined. "This is, however, anonymous; whose work is it?" Chia Cheng went on to ask, and dowager lady Chia interposed: "This, I fancy, must have been composed by Pao-yü," and Chia Cheng then said not a word, but continued reading the following conundrum, which was that devised by Pao-ch'ai, on some article or other: Eyes though it has; eyeballs it has none, and empty 'tis inside! The lotus flowers out of the water peep, and they with gladness meet, But when dryandra leaves begin to drop, they then part and divide, For a fond pair they are, but, united, winter they cannot greet. When Chia Cheng finished scanning it, he gave way to reflection. "This object," he pondered, "must surely be limited in use! But for persons of tender years to indulge in all this kind of language, would seem to be still less propitious; for they cannot, in my views, be any of them the sort of people to enjoy happiness and longevity!" When his reflections reached this point, he felt the more dejected, and plainly betrayed a sad appearance, and all he did was to droop his head and to plunge in a brown study. But upon perceiving the frame of mind in which Chia Cheng was, dowager lady Chia arrived at the conclusion that he must be fatigued; and fearing, on the other hand, that if she detained him, the whole party of young ladies would lack the spirit to enjoy themselves, she there and then faced Chia Cheng and suggested: "There's no need really for you to remain here any longer, and you had better retire to rest; and let us sit a while longer; after which, we too will break up!" As soon as Chia Cheng caught this hint, he speedily assented several consecutive yes's; and when he had further done his best to induce old lady Chia to have a cup of wine, he eventually withdrew out of the Hall. On his return to his bedroom, he could do nothing else than give way to cogitation, and, as he turned this and turned that over in his mind, he got still more sad and pained. "Amuse yourselves now!" readily exclaimed dowager lady Chia, during this while, after seeing Chia Cheng off; but this remark was barely finished, when she caught sight of Pao-yü run up to the lantern screen, and give vent, as he gesticulated with his hands and kicked his feet about, to any criticisms that first came to his lips. "In this," he remarked, "this line isn't happy; and that one, hasn't been suitably solved!" while he behaved just like a monkey, whose fetters had been let loose. "Were the whole party after all," hastily ventured Tai-yü, "to sit down, as we did a short while back and chat and laugh; wouldn't that be more in accordance with good manners?" Lady Feng thereupon egressed from the room in the inner end and interposed her remarks. "Such a being as you are," she said, "shouldn't surely be allowed by Mr. Chia Cheng, an inch or a step from his side, and then you'll be all right. But just then it slipped my memory, for why didn't I, when your father was present, instigate him to bid you compose a rhythmical enigma; and you would, I have no doubt, have been up to this moment in a state of perspiration!" At these words, Pao-yü lost all patience, and laying hold of lady Feng, he hustled her about for a few moments. But old lady Chia went on for some time to bandy words with Li Kung-ts'ai, with the whole company of young ladies and the rest, so that she, in fact, felt considerably tired and worn out; and when she heard that the fourth watch had already drawn nigh, she consequently issued directions that the eatables should be cleared away and given to the crowd of servants, and suggested, as she readily rose to her feet, "Let us go and rest! for the next day is also a feast, and we must get up at an early hour; and to-morrow evening we can enjoy ourselves again!" whereupon the whole company dispersed. But now, reader, listen to the sequel given in the chapter which follows. CHAPTER XXIII. Pao-yü and Tai-yü make use of some beautiful passages from the Record of the Western Side-building to bandy jokes. The excellent ballads sung in the Peony Pavilion touch the tender heart of Tai-yü. Soon after the day on which Chia Yuan-ch'un honoured the garden of Broad Vista with a visit, and her return to the Palace, so our story goes, she forthwith desired that T'an-ch'un should make a careful copy, in consecutive order, of the verses, which had been composed and read out on that occasion, in order that she herself should assign them their rank, and adjudge the good and bad. And she also directed that an inscription should be engraved on a stone, in the Broad Vista park, to serve in future years as a record of the pleasant and felicitous event; and Chia Cheng, therefore, gave orders to servants to go far and wide, and select skilful artificers and renowned workmen, to polish the stone and engrave the characters in the garden of Broad Vista; while Chia Chen put himself at the head of Chia Jung, Chia P'ing and others to superintend the work. And as Chia Se had, on the other hand, the control of Wen Kuan and the rest of the singing girls, twelve in all, as well as of their costumes and other properties, he had no leisure to attend to anything else, and consequently once again sent for Chia Ch'ang and Chia Ling to come and act as overseers. On a certain day, the works were taken in hand for rubbing the stones smooth with wax, for carving the inscription, and tracing it with vermilion, but without entering into details on these matters too minutely, we will return to the two places, the Yu Huang temple and the Ta Mo monastery. The company of twelve young bonzes and twelve young Taoist priests had now moved out of the Garden of Broad Vista, and Chia Cheng was meditating upon distributing them to various temples to live apart, when unexpectedly Chia Ch'in's mother, née Chou,--who resided in the back street, and had been at the time contemplating to pay a visit to Chia Cheng on this side so as to obtain some charge, be it either large or small, for her son to look after, that he too should be put in the way of turning up some money to meet his expenses with,--came, as luck would have it, to hear that some work was in hand in this mansion, and lost no time in driving over in a curricle and making her appeal to lady Feng. And as lady Feng remembered that she had all along not presumed on her position to put on airs, she willingly acceded to her request, and after calling to memory some suitable remarks, she at once went to make her report to madame Wang: "These young bonzes and Taoist priests," she said, "can by no means be sent over to other places; for were the Imperial consort to come out at an unexpected moment, they would then be required to perform services; and in the event of their being scattered, there will, when the time comes to requisition their help, again be difficulties in the way; and my idea is that it would be better to send them all to the family temple, the Iron Fence Temple; and every month all there will be to do will be to depute some one to take over a few taels for them to buy firewood and rice with, that's all, and when there's even a sound of their being required uttered, some one can at once go and tell them just one word 'come,' and they will come without the least trouble!" Madame Wang gave a patient ear to this proposal, and, in due course, consulted with Chia Cheng. "You've really," smiled Chia Cheng at these words, "reminded me how I should act! Yes, let this be done!" And there and then he sent for Chia Lien. Chia Lien was, at the time, having his meal with lady Feng, but as soon as he heard that he was wanted, he put by his rice and was just walking off, when lady Feng clutched him and pulled him back. "Wait a while," she observed with a smirk, "and listen to what I've got to tell you! if it's about anything else, I've nothing to do with it; but if it be about the young bonzes and young Taoists, you must, in this particular matter, please comply with this suggestion of mine," after which, she went on in this way and that way to put him up to a whole lot of hints. "I know nothing about it," Chia Lien rejoined smilingly, "and as you have the knack you yourself had better go and tell him!" But as soon as lady Feng heard this remark, she stiffened her head and threw down the chopsticks; and, with an expression on her cheeks, which looked like a smile and yet not a smile, she glanced angrily at Chia Lien. "Are you speaking in earnest," she inquired, "or are you only jesting?" "Yün Erh, the son of our fifth sister-in-law of the western porch, has come and appealed to me two or three times, asking for something to look after," Chia Lien laughed, "and I assented and bade him wait; and now, after a great deal of trouble, this job has turned up; and there you are once again snatching it away!" "Compose your mind," lady Feng observed grinning, "for the Imperial Consort has hinted that directions should be given for the planting, in the north-east corner of the park, of a further plentiful supply of pine and cedar trees, and that orders should also be issued for the addition, round the base of the tower, of a large number of flowers and plants and such like; and when this job turns up, I can safely tell you that Yun Erh will be called to assume control of these works." "Well if that be really so," Chia Lien rejoined, "it will after all do! But there's only one thing; all I was up to last night was simply to have some fun with you, but you obstinately and perversely wouldn't." Lady Feng, upon hearing these words, burst out laughing with a sound of Ch'ih, and spurting disdainfully at Chia Lien, she lowered her head and went on at once with her meal; during which time Chia Lien speedily walked away laughing the while, and betook himself to the front, where he saw Chia Cheng. It was, indeed, about the young bonzes, and Chia Lien readily carried out lady Feng's suggestion. "As from all appearances," he continued, "Ch'in Erh has, actually, so vastly improved, this job should, after all, be entrusted to his care and management; and provided that in observance with the inside custom Ch'in Erh were each day told to receive the advances, things will go on all right." And as Chia Cheng had never had much attention to give to such matters of detail, he, as soon as he heard what Chia Lien had to say, immediately signified his approval and assent. And Chia Lien, on his return to his quarters, communicated the issue to lady Feng; whereupon lady Feng at once sent some one to go and notify dame Chou. Chia Ch'in came, in due course, to pay a visit to Chia Lien and his wife, and was incessant in his expressions of gratitude; and lady Feng bestowed upon him a further favour by giving him, as a first instalment, an advance of the funds necessary for three months' outlay, for which she bade him write a receipt; while Chia Lien filled up a cheque and signed it; and a counter-order was simultaneously issued, and he came out into the treasury where the sum specified for three months' supplies, amounting to three hundred taels, was paid out in pure ingots. Chia Ch'in took the first piece of silver that came under his hand, and gave it to the men in charge of the scales, with which he told them to have a cup of tea, and bidding, shortly after, a boy-servant take the money to his home, he held consultation with his mother; after which, he hired a donkey for himself to ride on, and also bespoke several carriages, and came to the back gate of the Jung Kuo mansion; where having called out the twenty young priests, they got into the carriages, and sped straightway beyond the city walls, to the Temple of the Iron Fence, where nothing of any note transpired at the time. But we will now notice Chia Yüan-ch'un, within the precincts of the Palace. When she had arranged the verses composed in the park of Broad Vista in their order of merit, she suddenly recollected that the sights in the garden were sure, ever since her visit through them, to be diligently and respectfully kept locked up by her father and mother; and that by not allowing any one to go in was not an injustice done to this garden? "Besides," (she pondered), "in that household, there are at present several young ladies, capable of composing odes, and able to write poetry, and why should not permission be extended to them to go and take their quarters in it; in order too that those winsome persons might not be deprived of good cheer, and that the flowers and willows may not lack any one to admire them!" But remembering likewise that Pao-yü had from his infancy grown up among that crowd of female cousins, and was such a contrast to the rest of his male cousins that were he not allowed to move into it, he would, she also apprehended, be made to feel forlorn; and dreading lest his grandmother and his mother should be displeased at heart, she thought it imperative that he too should be permitted to take up his quarters inside, so that things should be put on a satisfactory footing; and directing the eunuch Hsia Chung to go to the Jung mansion and deliver her commands, she expressed the wish that Pao-ch'ai and the other girls should live in the garden and that it should not be kept closed, and urged that Pao-yü should also shift into it, at his own pleasure, for the prosecution of his studies. And Chia Cheng and madame Wang, upon receiving her commands, hastened, after the departure of Hsia Chung, to explain them to dowager lady Chia, and to despatch servants into the garden to tidy every place, to dust, to sweep, and to lay out the portieres and bed-curtains. The tidings were heard by the rest even with perfect equanimity, but Pao-yü was immoderately delighted; and he was engaged in deliberation with dowager lady Chia as to this necessary and to that requirement, when suddenly they descried a waiting-maid arrive, who announced: "Master wishes to see Pao-yü." Pao-yü gazed vacantly for a while. His spirits simultaneously were swept away; his countenance changed colour; and clinging to old lady Chia, he readily wriggled her about, just as one would twist the sugar (to make sweetmeats with), and could not, for the very death of him, summon up courage to go; so that her ladyship had no alternative but to try and reassure him. "My precious darling" she urged, "just you go, and I'll stand by you! He won't venture to be hard upon you; and besides, you've devised these excellent literary compositions; and I presume as Her Majesty has desired that you should move into the garden, his object is to give you a few words of advice; simply because he fears that you might be up to pranks in those grounds. But to all he tells you, whatever you do, mind you acquiesce and it will be all right!" And as she tried to compose him, she at the same time called two old nurses and enjoined them to take Pao-yü over with due care, "And don't let his father," she added, "frighten him!" The old nurses expressed their obedience, and Pao-yü felt constrained to walk ahead; and with one step scarcely progressing three inches, he leisurely came over to this side. Strange coincidence Chia Cheng was in madame Wang's apartments consulting with her upon some matter or other, and Chin Ch'uan-erh, Ts'ai Yun, Ts'ai Feng, Ts'ai Luan, Hsiu Feng and the whole number of waiting-maids were all standing outside under the verandah. As soon as they caught sight of Pao-yü, they puckered up their mouths and laughed at him; while Chin Ch'uan grasped Pao-yü with one hand, and remarked in a low tone of voice: "On these lips of mine has just been rubbed cosmetic, soaked with perfume, and are you now inclined to lick it or not?" whereupon Ts'ai Yün pushed off Chin Ch'uan with one shove, as she interposed laughingly, "A person's heart is at this moment in low spirits and do you still go on cracking jokes at him? But avail yourself of this opportunity when master is in good cheer to make haste and get in!" Pao-yü had no help but to sidle against the door and walk in. Chia Cheng and madame Wang were, in fact, both in the inner rooms, and dame Chou raised the portière. Pao-yü stepped in gingerly and perceived Chia Cheng and madame Wang sitting opposite to each other, on the stove-couch, engaged in conversation; while below on a row of chairs sat Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and Chia Huan; but though all four of them were seated in there only T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and Chia Huan rose to their feet, as soon as they saw him make his appearance in the room; and when Chia Cheng raised his eyes and noticed Pao-yü standing in front of him, with a gait full of ease and with those winsome looks of his, so captivating, he once again realised what a mean being Chia Huan was, and how coarse his deportment. But suddenly he also bethought himself of Chia Chu, and as he reflected too that madame Wang had only this son of her own flesh and blood, upon whom she ever doated as upon a gem, and that his own beard had already begun to get hoary, the consequence was that he unwittingly stifled, well nigh entirely, the feeling of hatred and dislike, which, during the few recent years he had ordinarily fostered towards Pao-yü. And after a long pause, "Her Majesty," he observed, "bade you day after day ramble about outside to disport yourself, with the result that you gradually became remiss and lazy; but now her desire is that we should keep you under strict control, and that in prosecuting your studies in the company of your cousins in the garden, you should carefully exert your brains to learn; so that if you don't again attend to your duties, and mind your regular tasks, you had better be on your guard!" Pao-yü assented several consecutive yes's; whereupon madame Wang drew him by her side and made him sit down, and while his three cousins resumed the seats they previously occupied: "Have you finished all the pills you had been taking a short while back?" madame Wang inquired, as she rubbed Pao-yü's neck. "There's still one pill remaining," Pao-yü explained by way of reply. "You had better," madame Wang added, "fetch ten more pills tomorrow morning; and every day about bedtime tell Hsi Jen to give them to you; and when you've had one you can go to sleep!" "Ever since you, mother, bade me take them," Pao-yü rejoined, "Hsi Jen has daily sent me one, when I was about to turn in." "Who's this called Hsi Jen?" Chia Chen thereupon ascertained. "She's a waiting-maid!" madame Wang answered. "A servant girl," Chia Cheng remonstrated, "can be called by whatever name one chooses; anything is good enough; but who's it who has started this kind of pretentious name!" Madame Wang noticed that Chia Cheng was not in a happy frame of mind, so that she forthwith tried to screen matters for Pao-yü, by saying: "It's our old lady who has originated it!" "How can it possibly be," Chia Cheng exclaimed, "that her ladyship knows anything about such kind of language? It must, for a certainty, be Pao-yü!" Pao-yü perceiving that he could not conceal the truth from him, was under the necessity of standing up and of explaining; "As I have all along read verses, I remembered the line written by an old poet: "What time the smell of flowers wafts itself into man, one knows the day is warm. "And as this waiting-maid's surname was Hua (flower), I readily gave her the name, on the strength of this sentiment." "When you get back," madame Wang speedily suggested addressing Pao-yü, "change it and have done; and you, sir, needn't lose your temper over such a trivial matter!" "It doesn't really matter in the least," Chia Cheng continued; "so that there's no necessity of changing it; but it's evident that Pao-yü doesn't apply his mind to legitimate pursuits, but mainly devotes his energies to such voluptuous expressions and wanton verses!" And as he finished these words, he abruptly shouted out: "You brute-like child of retribution! Don't you yet get out of this?" "Get away, off with you!" madame Wang in like manner hastened to urge; "our dowager lady is waiting, I fear, for you to have her repast!" Pao-yü assented, and, with gentle step, he withdrew out of the room, laughing at Chin Ch'uan-erh, as he put out his tongue; and leading off the two nurses, he went off on his way like a streak of smoke. But no sooner had he reached the door of the corridor than he espied Hsi Jen standing leaning against the side; who perceiving Pao-yü come back safe and sound heaped smile upon smile, and asked: "What did he want you for?" "There was nothing much," Pao-yü explained, "he simply feared that I would, when I get into the garden, be up to mischief, and he gave me all sorts of advice;" and, as while he explained matters, they came into the presence of lady Chia, he gave her a clear account, from first to last, of what had transpired. But when he saw that Lin Tai-yü was at the moment in the room, Pao-yü speedily inquired of her: "Which place do you think best to live in?" Tai-yü had just been cogitating on this subject, so that when she unexpectedly heard Pao-yü's inquiry, she forthwith rejoined with a smile: "My own idea is that the Hsio Hsiang Kuan is best; for I'm fond of those clusters of bamboos, which hide from view the tortuous balustrade and make the place more secluded and peaceful than any other!" Pao-yü at these words clapped his hands and smiled. "That just meets with my own views!" he remarked; "I too would like you to go and live in there; and as I am to stay in the I Hung Yuan, we two will be, in the first place, near each other; and next, both in quiet and secluded spots." While the two of them were conversing, a servant came, sent over by Chia Cheng, to report to dowager lady Chia that: "The 22nd of the second moon was a propitious day for Pao-yü and the young ladies to shift their quarters into the garden; that during these few days, servants should be sent in to put things in their proper places and to clean; that Hsueh Pao-ch'ai should put up in the Heng Wu court; that Lin Tai-yü was to live in the Hsiao Hsiang lodge; that Chia Ying-ch'un should move into the Cho Chin two-storied building; that T'an Ch'un should put up in the Ch'iu Yen library; that Hsi Ch'un should take up her quarters in the Liao Feng house; that widow Li should live in the Tao Hsiang village, and that Pao-yü was to live in the I Hung court. That at every place two old nurses should be added and four servant-girls; that exclusive of the nurse and personal waiting-maid of each, there should, in addition, be servants, whose special duties should be to put things straight and to sweep the place; and that on the 22nd, they should all, in a body, move into the garden." When this season drew near, the interior of the grounds, with the flowers waving like embroidered sashes, and the willows fanned by the fragrant breeze, was no more as desolate and silent as it had been in previous days; but without indulging in any further irrelevant details, we shall now go back to Pao-yü. Ever since he shifted his quarters into the park, his heart was full of joy, and his mind of contentment, fostering none of those extraordinary ideas, whose tendency could be to give birth to longings and hankerings. Day after day, he simply indulged, in the company of his female cousins and the waiting-maids, in either reading his books, or writing characters, or in thrumming the lute, playing chess, drawing pictures and scanning verses, even in drawing patterns of argus pheasants, in embroidering phoenixes, contesting with them in searching for strange plants, and gathering flowers, in humming poetry with gentle tone, singing ballads with soft voice, dissecting characters, and in playing at mora, so that, being free to go everywhere and anywhere, he was of course completely happy. From his pen emanate four ballads on the times of the four seasons, which, although they could not be looked upon as first-rate, afford anyhow a correct idea of his sentiments, and a true account of the scenery. The ballad on the spring night runs as follows: The silken curtains, thin as russet silk, at random are spread out. The croak of frogs from the adjoining lane but faintly strikes the ear. The pillow a slight chill pervades, for rain outside the window falls. The landscape, which now meets the eye, is like that seen in dreams by man. In plenteous streams the candles' tears do drop, but for whom do they weep? Each particle of grief felt by the flowers is due to anger against me. It's all because the maids have by indulgence indolent been made. The cover over me I'll pull, as I am loth to laugh and talk for long. This is the description of the aspect of nature on a summer night: The beauteous girl, weary of needlework, quiet is plunged in a long dream. The parrot in the golden cage doth shout that it is time the tea to brew. The lustrous windows with the musky moon like open palace-mirrors look; The room abounds with fumes of sandalwood and all kinds of imperial scents. From the cups made of amber is poured out the slippery dew from the lotus. The banisters of glass, the cool zephyr enjoy flapped by the willow trees. In the stream-spanning kiosk, the curtains everywhere all at one time do wave. In the vermilion tower the blinds the maidens roll, for they have made the night's toilette. The landscape of an autumnal evening is thus depicted: In the interior of the Chiang Yün house are hushed all clamorous din and noise. The sheen, which from Selene flows, pervades the windows of carnation gauze. The moss-locked, streaked rocks shelter afford to the cranes, plunged in sleep. The dew, blown on the t'ung tree by the well, doth wet the roosting rooks. Wrapped in a quilt, the maid comes the gold phoenix coverlet to spread. The girl, who on the rails did lean, on her return drops the kingfisher flowers! This quiet night his eyes in sleep he cannot close, as he doth long for wine. The smoke is stifled, and the fire restirred, when tea is ordered to be brewed. The picture of a winter night is in this strain: The sleep of the plum trees, the dream of the bamboos the third watch have already reached. Under the embroidered quilt and the kingfisher coverlet one can't sleep for the cold. The shadow of fir trees pervades the court, but cranes are all that meet the eye. Both far and wide the pear blossom covers the ground, but yet the hawk cannot be heard. The wish, verses to write, fostered by the damsel with the green sleeves, has waxéd cold. The master, with the gold sable pelisse, cannot endure much wine. But yet he doth rejoice that his attendant knows the way to brew the tea. The newly-fallen snow is swept what time for tea the water must be boiled. But putting aside Pao-yü, as he leisurely was occupied in scanning some verses, we will now allude to all these ballads. There lived, at that time, a class of people, whose wont was to servilely court the influential and wealthy, and who, upon perceiving that the verses were composed by a young lad of the Jung Kuo mansion, of only twelve or thirteen years of age, had copies made, and taking them outside sang their praise far and wide. There were besides another sort of light-headed young men, whose heart was so set upon licentious and seductive lines, that they even inscribed them on fans and screen-walls, and time and again kept on humming them and extolling them. And to the above reasons must therefore be ascribed the fact that persons came in search of stanzas and in quest of manuscripts, to apply for sketches and to beg for poetical compositions, to the increasing satisfaction of Pao-yü, who day after day, when at home, devoted his time and attention to these extraneous matters. But who would have anticipated that he could ever in his quiet seclusion have become a prey to a spirit of restlessness? Of a sudden, one day he began to feel discontent, finding fault with this and turning up his nose at that; and going in and coming out he was simply full of ennui. And as all the girls in the garden were just in the prime of youth, and at a time of life when, artless and unaffected, they sat and reclined without regard to retirement, and disported themselves and joked without heed, how could they ever have come to read the secrets which at this time occupied a place in the heart of Pao-yü? But so unhappy was Pao-yü within himself that he soon felt loth to stay in the garden, and took to gadding about outside like an evil spirit; but he behaved also the while in an idiotic manner. Ming Yen, upon seeing him go on in this way, felt prompted, with the idea of affording his mind some distraction, to think of this and to devise that expedient; but everything had been indulged in with surfeit by Pao-yü, and there was only this resource, (that suggested itself to him,) of which Pao-yü had not as yet had any experience. Bringing his reflections to a close, he forthwith came over to a bookshop, and selecting novels, both of old and of the present age, traditions intended for outside circulation on Fei Yen, Ho Te, Wu Tse-t'ien, and Yang Kuei-fei, as well as books of light literature consisting of strange legends, he purchased a good number of them with the express purpose of enticing Pao-yü to read them. As soon as Pao-yü caught sight of them, he felt as if he had obtained some gem or jewel. "But you mustn't," Ming Yen went on to enjoin him, "take them into the garden; for if any one were to come to know anything about them, I shall then suffer more than I can bear; and you should, when you go along, hide them in your clothes!" But would Pao-yü agree to not introducing them into the garden? So after much wavering, he picked out only several volumes of those whose style was more refined, and took them in, and threw them over the top of his bed for him to peruse when no one was present; while those coarse and very indecent ones, he concealed in a bundle in the outer library. On one day, which happened to be the middle decade of the third moon, Pao-yü, after breakfast, took a book, the "Hui Chen Chi," in his hand and walked as far as the bridge of the Hsin Fang lock. Seating himself on a block of rock, that lay under the peach trees in that quarter, he opened the Hui Chen Chi and began to read it carefully from the beginning. But just as he came to the passage: "the falling red (flowers) have formed a heap," he felt a gust of wind blow through the trees, bringing down a whole bushel of peach blossoms; and, as they fell, his whole person, the entire surface of the book as well as a large extent of ground were simply bestrewn with petals of the blossoms. Pao-yü was bent upon shaking them down; but as he feared lest they should be trodden under foot, he felt constrained to carry the petals in his coat and walk to the bank of the pond and throw them into the stream. The petals floated on the surface of the water, and, after whirling and swaying here and there, they at length ran out by the Hsin Fang lock. But, on his return under the tree, he found the ground again one mass of petals, and Pao-yü was just hesitating what to do, when he heard some one behind his back inquire, "What are you up to here?" and as soon as Pao-yü turned his head round, he discovered that it was Lin Tai-yü, who had come over carrying on her shoulder a hoe for raking flowers, that on this hoe was suspended a gauze-bag, and that in her hand she held a broom. "That's right, well done!" Pao-yü remarked smiling; "come and sweep these flowers, and throw them into the water yonder. I've just thrown a lot in there myself!" "It isn't right," Lin Tai-yü rejoined, "to throw them into the water. The water, which you see, is clean enough here, but as soon as it finds its way out, where are situated other people's grounds, what isn't there in it? so that you would be misusing these flowers just as much as if you left them here! But in that corner, I have dug a hole for flowers, and I'll now sweep these and put them into this gauze-bag and bury them in there; and, in course of many days, they will also become converted into earth, and won't this be a clean way (of disposing of them)?" Pao-yü, after listening to these words, felt inexpressibly delighted. "Wait!" he smiled, "until I put down my book, and I'll help you to clear them up!" "What's the book?" Tai-yü inquired. Pao-yü at this question was so taken aback that he had no time to conceal it. "It's," he replied hastily, "the Chung Yung and the Ta Hsüeh!" "Are you going again to play the fool with me? Be quick and give it to me to see; and this will be ever so much better a way!" "Cousin," Pao-yü replied, "as far as you yourself are concerned I don't mind you, but after you've seen it, please don't tell any one else. It's really written in beautiful style; and were you to once begin reading it, why even for your very rice you wouldn't have a thought?" As he spoke, he handed it to her; and Tai-yü deposited all the flowers on the ground, took over the book, and read it from the very first page; and the more she perused it, she got so much the more fascinated by it, that in no time she had finished reading sixteen whole chapters. But aroused as she was to a state of rapture by the diction, what remained even of the fascination was enough to overpower her senses; and though she had finished reading, she nevertheless continued in a state of abstraction, and still kept on gently recalling the text to mind, and humming it to herself. "Cousin, tell me is it nice or not?" Pao-yü grinned. "It is indeed full of zest!" Lin Tai-yü replied exultingly. "I'm that very sad and very sickly person," Pao-yü explained laughing, "while you are that beauty who could subvert the empire and overthrow the city." Lin Tai-yü became, at these words, unconsciously crimson all over her cheeks, even up to her very ears; and raising, at the same moment, her two eyebrows, which seemed to knit and yet not to knit, and opening wide those eyes, which seemed to stare and yet not to stare, while her peach-like cheeks bore an angry look and on her thin-skinned face lurked displeasure, she pointed at Pao-yü and exclaimed: "You do deserve death, for the rubbish you talk! without any provocation you bring up these licentious expressions and wanton ballads to give vent to all this insolent rot, in order to insult me; but I'll go and tell uncle and aunt." As soon as she pronounced the two words "insult me," her eyeballs at once were suffused with purple, and turning herself round she there and then walked away; which filled Pao-yü with so much distress that he jumped forward to impede her progress, as he pleaded: "My dear cousin, I earnestly entreat you to spare me this time! I've indeed said what I shouldn't; but if I had any intention to insult you, I'll throw myself to-morrow into the pond, and let the scabby-headed turtle eat me up, so that I become transformed into a large tortoise. And when you shall have by and by become the consort of an officer of the first degree, and you shall have fallen ill from old age and returned to the west, I'll come to your tomb and bear your stone tablet for ever on my back!" As he uttered these words, Lin Tai-yü burst out laughing with a sound of "pu ch'ih," and rubbing her eyes, she sneeringly remarked: "I too can come out with this same tune; but will you now still go on talking nonsense? Pshaw! you're, in very truth, like a spear-head, (which looks) like silver, (but is really soft as) wax!" "Go on, go on!" Pao-yü smiled after this remark; "and what you've said, I too will go and tell!" "You maintain," Lin Tai-yü rejoined sarcastically, "that after glancing at anything you're able to recite it; and do you mean to say that I can't even do so much as take in ten lines with one gaze?" Pao-yü smiled and put his book away, urging: "Let's do what's right and proper, and at once take the flowers and bury them; and don't let us allude to these things!" Forthwith the two of them gathered the fallen blossoms; but no sooner had they interred them properly than they espied Hsi Jen coming, who went on to observe: "Where haven't I looked for you? What! have you found your way as far as this! But our senior master, Mr. Chia She, over there isn't well; and the young ladies have all gone over to pay their respects, and our old lady has asked that you should be sent over; so go back at once and change your clothes!" When Pao-yü heard what she said, he hastily picked up his books, and saying good bye to Tai-yü, he came along with Hsi Jen, back into his room, where we will leave him to effect the necessary change in his costume. But during this while, Lin Tai-yü was, after having seen Pao-yü walk away, and heard that all her cousins were likewise not in their rooms, wending her way back alone, in a dull and dejected mood, towards her apartment, when upon reaching the outside corner of the wall of the Pear Fragrance court, she caught, issuing from inside the walls, the harmonious strains of the fife and the melodious modulations of voices singing. Lin Tai-yü readily knew that it was the twelve singing-girls rehearsing a play; and though she did not give her mind to go and listen, yet a couple of lines were of a sudden blown into her ears, and with such clearness, that even one word did not escape. Their burden was this: These troth are beauteous purple and fine carmine flowers, which in this way all round do bloom, And all together lie ensconced along the broken well, and the dilapidated wall! But the moment Lin Tai-yü heard these lines, she was, in fact, so intensely affected and agitated that she at once halted and lending an ear listened attentively to what they went on to sing, which ran thus: A glorious day this is, and pretty scene, but sad I feel at heart! Contentment and pleasure are to be found in whose family courts? After overhearing these two lines, she unconsciously nodded her head, and sighed, and mused in her own mind. "Really," she thought, "there is fine diction even in plays! but unfortunately what men in this world simply know is to see a play, and they don't seem to be able to enjoy the beauties contained in them." At the conclusion of this train of thought, she experienced again a sting of regret, (as she fancied) she should not have given way to such idle thoughts and missed attending to the ballads; but when she once more came to listen, the song, by some coincidence, went on thus: It's all because thy loveliness is like a flower and like the comely spring, That years roll swiftly by just like a running stream. When this couplet struck Tai-yu's ear, her heart felt suddenly a prey to excitement and her soul to emotion; and upon further hearing the words: Alone you sit in the secluded inner rooms to self-compassion giving way. --and other such lines, she became still more as if inebriated, and like as if out of her head, and unable to stand on her feet, she speedily stooped her body, and, taking a seat on a block of stone, she minutely pondered over the rich beauty of the eight characters: It's all because thy loveliness is like a flower and like the comely spring, That years roll swiftly by just like a running stream. Of a sudden, she likewise bethought herself of the line: Water flows away and flowers decay, for both no feelings have. --which she had read some days back in a poem of an ancient writer, and also of the passage: When on the running stream the flowers do fall, spring then is past and gone; --and of: Heaven (differs from) the human race, --which also appeared in that work; and besides these, the lines, which she had a short while back read in the Hsi Hiang Chi: The flowers, lo, fall, and on their course the waters red do flow! Petty misfortunes of ten thousand kinds (my heart assail!) both simultaneously flashed through her memory; and, collating them all together, she meditated on them minutely, until suddenly her heart was stricken with pain and her soul fleeted away, while from her eyes trickled down drops of tears. But while nothing could dispel her present state of mind, she unexpectedly realised that some one from behind gave her a tap; and, turning her head round to look, she found that it was a young girl; but who it was, the next chapter will make known. CHAPTER XXIV. The drunken Chin Kang makes light of lucre and shows a preference for generosity. The foolish girl mislays her handkerchief and arouses mutual thoughts. But to return to our narrative. Lin Tai-yü's sentimental reflections were the while reeling and ravelling in an intricate maze, when unexpectedly some one from behind gave her a tap, saying: "What are you up to all alone here?" which took Lin Tai-yu so much by surprise that she gave a start, and turning her head round to look and noticing that it was Hsiang Ling and no one else; "You stupid girl!" Lin Tai-yü replied, "you've given me such a fright! But where do you come from at this time?" Hsiang Ling giggled and smirked. "I've come," she added, "in search of our young lady, but I can't find her anywhere. But your Tzu Chuan is also looking after you; and she says that lady Secunda has sent a present to you of some tea. But you had better go back home and sit down." As she spoke, she took Tai-yü by the hand, and they came along back to the Hsiao Hsiang Kuan; where lady Feng had indeed sent her two small catties of a new season tea, of superior quality. But Lin Tai-yü sat down, in company with Hsiang Ling, and began to converse on the merits of this tapestry and the fineness of that embroidery; and after they had also had a game at chess, and read a few sentences out of a book, Hsiang Ling took her departure. But we need not speak of either of them, but return now to Pao-yü. Having been found, and brought back home, by Hsi Jen, he discovered Yuan Yang reclining on the bed, in the act of examining Hsi Jen's needlework; but when she perceived Pao-yü arrive, she forthwith remarked: "Where have you been? her venerable ladyship is waiting for you to tell you to go over and pay your obeisance to our Senior master, and don't you still make haste to go and change your clothes and be off!" Hsi Jen at once walked into the room to fetch his clothes, and Pao-yü sat on the edge of the bed, and pushed his shoes off with his toes; and, while waiting for his boots to put them on, he turned round and perceiving that Yüan Yang, who was clad in a light red silk jacket and a green satin waistcoat, and girdled with a white crepe sash, had her face turned the other way, and her head lowered giving her attention to the criticism of the needlework, while round her neck she wore a collar with embroidery, Pao-yü readily pressed his face against the nape of her neck, and as he sniffed the perfume about it, he did not stay his hand from stroking her neck, which in whiteness and smoothness was not below that of Hsi Jen; and as he approached her, "My dear girl," he said smiling and with a drivelling face, "do let me lick the cosmetic off your mouth!" clinging to her person, as he uttered these words, like twisted sweetmeat. "Hsi Jen!" cried Yüan Yang at once, "come out and see! You've been with him a whole lifetime, and don't you give him any advice; but let him still behave in this fashion!" Whereupon, Hsi Jen walked out, clasping the clothes, and turning to Pao-yü, she observed, "I advise you in this way and it's no good, I advise you in that way and you don't mend; and what do you mean to do after all? But if you again behave like this, it will then, in fact, be impossible for me to live any longer in this place!" As she tendered these words of counsel, she urged him to put his clothes on, and, after he had changed, he betook himself, along with Yuan Yang, to the front part of the mansion, and bade good-bye to dowager lady Chia; after which he went outside, where the attendants and horses were all in readiness; but when he was about to mount his steed, he perceived Chia Lien back from his visit and in the act of dismounting; and as the two of them stood face to face, and mutually exchanged some inquiries, they saw some one come round from the side, and say: "My respects to you, uncle Pao-yü!" When Pao-yü came to look at him, he noticed that this person had an oblong face, that his body was tall and lanky, that his age was only eighteen or nineteen, and that he possessed, in real truth, an air of refinement and elegance; but though his features were, after all, exceedingly familiar, he could not recall to mind to what branch of the family he belonged, and what his name was. "What are you staring vacantly for?" Chia Lien inquired laughing. "Don't you even recognise him? He's Yün Erh, the son of our fifth sister-in-law, who lives in the back court!" "Of course!" Pao-yü assented complacently. "How is it that I had forgotten just now!" And having gone on to ask how his mother was, and what work he had to do at present; "I've come in search of uncle Secundus, to tell him something," Chia Yün replied, as he pointed at Chia Lien. "You've really improved vastly from what you were before," added Pao-yü smiling; "you verily look just is if you were my son!" "How very barefaced!" Chia Lien exclaimed as he burst out laughing; "here's a person four or five years your senior to be made your son!" "How far are you in your teens this year?" Pao-yü inquired with a smile. "Eighteen!" Chia Yün rejoined. This Chia Yün was, in real deed, sharp and quick-witted; and when he heard Pao-yü remark that he looked like his son, he readily gave a sarcastic smile and observed, "The proverb is true which says, 'the grandfather is rocked in the cradle while the grandson leans on a staff.' But though old enough in years, I'm nevertheless like a mountain, which, in spite of its height, cannot screen the sun from view. Besides, since my father's death, I've had no one to look after me, and were you, uncle Pao, not to disdain your doltish nephew, and to acknowledge me as your son, it would be your nephew's good fortune!" "Have you heard what he said?" Chia Lien interposed cynically. "But to acknowledge him as a son is no easy question to settle!" and with these words, he walked in; whereupon Pao-yü smilingly said: "To-morrow when you have nothing to do, just come and look me up; but don't go and play any devilish pranks with them! I've just now no leisure, so come to-morrow, into the library, where I'll have a chat with you for a whole day, and take you into the garden for some fun!" With this remark still on his lips, he laid hold of the saddle and mounted his horse; and, followed by the whole bevy of pages, he crossed over to Chia She's on this side; where having discovered that Chia She had nothing more the matter with him than a chill which he had suddenly contracted, he commenced by delivering dowager lady Chia's message, and next paid his own obeisance. Chia She, at first, stood up and made suitable answer to her venerable ladyship's inquiries, and then calling a servant, "Take the gentleman," he said, "into my lady's apartment to sit down." Pao-yü withdrew out of the room, and came by the back to the upper apartment; and as soon as madame Hsing caught sight of him, she, before everything else, rose to her feet and asked after old lady Chia's health; after which, Pao-yü made his own salutation, and madame Hsing drew him on to the stove-couch, where she induced him to take a seat, and eventually inquired after the other inmates, and also gave orders to serve the tea. But scarcely had they had tea, before they perceived Chia Tsung come in to pay his respects to Pao-yü. "Where could one find such a living monkey as this!" madame Hsing remarked; "is that nurse of yours dead and gone that she doesn't even keep you clean and tidy, and that she lets you go about with those eyebrows of yours so black and that mouth so filthy! you scarcely look like the child of a great family of scholars." While she spoke, she perceived both Chia Huan and Chia Lan, one of whom was a young uncle and the other his nephew, also advance and present their compliments, and madame Hsing bade the two of them sit down on the chairs. But when Chia Huan noticed that Pao-yü sat on the same rug with madame Hsing, and that her ladyship was further caressing and petting him in every possible manner, he soon felt so very unhappy at heart, that, after sitting for a short time, he forthwith made a sign to Chia Lan that he would like to go; and as Chia Lan could not but humour him, they both got up together to take their leave. But when Pao-yü perceived them rise, he too felt a wish to go back along with them, but madame Hsing remarked smilingly, "You had better sit a while as I've something more to tell you," so that Pao-yü had no alternative but to stay. "When you get back," madame Hsing added, addressing the other two, "present, each one of you, my regards to your respective mothers. The young ladies, your cousins, are all here making such a row that my head is dazed, so that I won't to-day keep you to have your repast here." To which Chia Huan and Chia Lan assented and quickly walked out. "If it be really the case that all my cousins have come over," Pao-yü ventured with a smirk, "how is it that I don't see them?" "After sitting here for a while," madame Hsing explained, "they all went at the back; but in what rooms they have gone, I don't know." "My senior aunt, you said you had something to tell me, Pao-yü observed; what's it, I wonder?" "What can there possibly be to tell you?" madame Hsing laughed; "it was simply to make you wait and have your repast with the young ladies and then go; but there's also a fine plaything that I'll give you to take back to amuse yourself with." These two, the aunt and her nephew, were going on with their colloquy when, much to their surprise, it was time for dinner and the young ladies were all invited to come. The tables and chairs were put in their places, and the cups and plates were arranged in proper order; and, after the mother, her daughter and the cousins had finished their meal, Pao-yü bade good-bye to Chia She and returned home in company with all the young ladies; and when they had said good-night to dowager lady Chia, madame Wang and the others, they each went back into their rooms and retired to rest; where we shall leave them without any further comment and speak of Chia Yün's visit to the mansion. As soon as he saw Chia Lien, he inquired what business it was that had turned up, and Chia Lien consequently explained: "The other day something did actually present itself, but as it happened that your aunt had again and again entreated me, I gave it to Chia Ch'in; as she promised me that there would be by and by in the garden several other spots where flowers and trees would be planted; and that when this job did occur, she would, for a certainty, give it to you and finish!" Chia Yün, upon hearing these words, suggested after a short pause; "If that be so, there's nothing for me to do than to wait; but, uncle, you too mustn't make any allusion beforehand in the presence of aunt to my having come to-day to make any inquiries; for there will really be ample time to speak to her when the job turns up!" "Why should I allude to it?" Chia Lien rejoined. "Have I forsooth got all this leisure to talk of irrelevant matters! But to-morrow, besides, I've got to go as far as Hsing Yi for a turn, and it's absolutely necessary that I should hurriedly come back the very same day; so off with you now and go and wait; and the day after to-morrow, after the watch has been set, come and ask for news; but mind at any earlier hour, I shan't have any leisure!" With these words, he hastily went at the back to change his clothes. And from the time Chia Yun put his foot out of the door of the Jung Kuo mansion, he was, the whole way homeward, plunged in deep thought; but having bethought himself of some expedient, he straightway wended his steps towards the house of his maternal uncle, Pu Shih-jen. This Pu Shih-jen, it must be explained, kept, at the present date, a shop for the sale of spices. He had just returned home from his shop, and as soon as he noticed Chia Yun, he inquired of him what business brought him there. "There's something," Chia Yun replied, "in which I would like to crave your assistance, uncle; I'm in need of some baroos camphor and musk, so please, uncle, give me on credit four ounces of each kind, and on the festival of the eighth moon, I'll bring you the amount in full." Pu Shih-jen gave a sardonic smile. "Don't," he said, "again allude to any such thing as selling on tick! Some time back a partner in our establishment got several ounces of goods for his relatives on credit, and up to this date the bill hasn't as yet been settled; the result being that we've all had to make the amount good, so that we've entered into an agreement that we should no more allow any one to obtain on tick anything on behalf of either relative or friend, and that whoever acted contrary to this resolution should be, at once, fined twenty taels, with which to stand a treat. Besides, the stock of these articles is now short, and were you also to come, with ready money to this our mean shop to buy any, we wouldn't even have as much to give you. The best way therefore is for you to go elsewhere. This is one side of the question; for on the other, you can't have anything above-board in view; and were you to obtain what you want as a loan you would again go and play the giddy dog! But you'll simply say that on every occasion your uncle sees you, he avails himself of it to find fault with you, but a young fellow like you doesn't know what's good and what is bad; and you should, besides, make up your mind to earn a few cash, wherewith to clothe and feed yourself, so that, when I see you, I too may rejoice!" "What you, uncle, say," Chia Yun rejoined smiling, "is perfectly right; the only thing is that at the time of my father's death, I was likewise so young in years that I couldn't understand anything; but later on, I heard my mother explain how that for everything, it was lucky that you, after all, my uncles, went over to our house and devised the ways and means, and managed the funeral; and is it likely you, uncle, aren't aware of these things? Besides, have I forsooth had a single acre of land or a couple of houses, the value of which I've run through as soon as it came into my hands? An ingenious wife cannot make boiled rice without raw rice; and what would you have me do? It's your good fortune however that you've got to deal with one such as I am, for had it been any one else barefaced and shameless, he would have come, twice every three days, to worry you, uncle, by asking for two pints of rice and two of beans, and you then, uncle, would have had no help for it." "My dear child," Pu Shih-jen exclaimed, "had I anything that I could call my own, your uncle as I am, wouldn't I feel bound to do something for you? I've day after day mentioned to your aunt that the misfortune was that you had no resources. But should you ever succeed in making up your mind, you should go into that mighty household of yours, and when the gentlemen aren't looking, forthwith pocket your pride and hobnob with those managers, or possibly with the butlers, as you may, even through them, be able to get some charge or other! The other day, when I was out of town, I came across that old Quartus of the third branch of the family, astride of a tall donkey, at the head of four or five carriages, in which were about forty to fifty bonzes and Taoist priests on their way to the family fane, and that man can't lack brains, for such a charge to have fallen to his share!" Chia Yün, upon hearing these words, indulged in a long and revolting rigmarole, and then got up to take his leave. "What are you in such a hurry for?" Pu Shih-jen remarked. "Have your meal and then go!" But this remark was scarcely ended when they heard his wife say: "Are you again in the clouds? When I heard that there was no rice, I bought half a catty of dry rice paste, and brought it here for you to eat; and do you pray now still put on the airs of a well-to-do, and keep your nephew to feel the pangs of hunger?" "Well, then, buy half a catty more, and add to what there is, that's all," Pu Shih-jen continued; whereupon her mother explained to her daughter, Yin Chieh, "Go over to Mrs. Wang's opposite, and ask her if she has any cash, to lend us twenty or thirty of them; and to-morrow, when they're brought over, we'll repay her." But while the husband and wife were carrying on this conversation, Chia Yün had, at an early period, repeated several times: "There's no need to go to this trouble," and off he went, leaving no trace or shadow behind. But without passing any further remarks on the husband and wife of the Pu family, we will now confine ourselves to Chia Yün. Having gone in high dudgeon out of the door of his uncle's house, he started straight on his way back home; but while distressed in mind, and preoccupied with his thoughts, he paced on with drooping head, he unexpectedly came into collision with a drunken fellow, who gripped Chia Yün, and began to abuse him, crying: "Are your eyes gone blind, that you come bang against me?" The tone of voice, when it reached Chia Yün ears, sounded like that of some one with whom he was intimate; and, on careful scrutiny, he found, in fact, that it was his next-door neighbour, Ni Erh. This Ni Erh was a dissolute knave, whose only idea was to give out money at heavy rates of interest and to have his meals in the gambling dens. His sole delight was to drink and to fight. He was, at this very moment, coming back home from the house of a creditor, whom he had dunned, and was already far gone with drink, so that when, at an unforeseen moment, Chia Yün ran against him, he meant there and then to start a scuffle with him. "Old Erh!" Chia Yün shouted, "stay your hand; it's I who have hustled against you." As soon as Ni Erh heard the tone of his voice, he opened wide his drunken eyes and gave him a look; and realising that it was Chia Yün, he hastened to loosen his grasp and to remark with a smile, as he staggered about, "Is it you indeed, master Chia Secundus? where were you off to now?" "I couldn't tell you!" Chia Yün rejoined; "I've again brought displeasure upon me, and all through no fault of mine." "Never mind!" urged Ni Erh, "if you're in any trouble you just tell me, and I'll give vent to your spite for you; for in these three streets, and six lanes, no matter who may give offence to any neighbours of mine, of me, Ni Erh, the drunken Chin Kang, I'll wager that I compel that man's family to disperse, and his home to break up!" "Old Ni, don't lose your temper," Chia Yün protested, "but listen and let me tell you what happened!" After which, he went on to tell Ni Erh the whole affair with Pu Shih-jen. As soon as Ni Erh heard him, he got into a frightful rage; "Were he not," he shouted, a "relative of yours, master Secundus, I would readily give him a bit of my mind! Really resentment will stifle my breath! but never mind! you needn't however distress yourself. I've got here a few taels ready at hand, which, if you require, don't scruple to take; and from such good neighbours as you are, I won't ask any interest upon this money." With this remark still on his lips, he produced from his pouch a bundle of silver. "Ni Erh has, it is true, ever been a rogue," Chia Yün reflected in his own mind, "but as he is regulated in his dealings by a due regard to persons, he enjoys, to a great degree, the reputation of generosity; and were I to-day not to accept this favour of his, he'll, I fear, be put to shame; and it won't contrariwise be nice on my part! and isn't it better that I should make use of his money, and by and by I can repay him double, and things will be all right!" "Old Erh," he therefore observed aloud with a smile, "you're really a fine fellow, and as you've shown me such eminent consideration, how can I presume not to accept your offer! On my return home, I'll write the customary I.O.U., and send it to you, and all will be in order." Ni Erh gave a broad grin. "It's only fifteen taels and three mace," he answered, "and if you insist upon writing an I.O.U., I won't then lend it to you!" Chia Yün at these words, took over the money, smiling the while. "I'll readily," he retorted, "comply with your wishes and have done; for what's the use of exasperating you!" "Well then that will be all right!" Ni Erh laughed; "but the day is getting dark; and I shan't ask you to have a cup of tea or stand you a drink, for I've some small things more to settle. As for me, I'm going over there, but you, after all, should please wend your way homewards; and I shall also request you to take a message for me to my people. Tell them to close the doors and turn in, as I'm not returning home; and that in the event of anything occurring, to bid our daughter come over to-morrow, as soon as it is daylight, to short-legged Wang's house, the horse-dealer's, in search of me!" And as he uttered this remark he walked away, stumbling and hobbling along. But we will leave him without further notice and allude to Chia Yün. He had, at quite an unexpected juncture, met this piece of luck, so that his heart was, of course, delighted to the utmost degree. "This Ni Erh," he mused, "is really a good enough sort of fellow, but what I dread is that he may have been open-handed in his fit of drunkenness, and that he mayn't, by and by, ask for his money to be paid twice over; and what will I do then? Never mind," he suddenly went on to ponder, "when that job has become an accomplished fact, I shall even have the means to pay him back double the original amount." Prompted by this resolution, he came over to a money-shop, and when he had the silver weighed, and no discrepancy was discovered in the weight, he was still more elated at heart; and on his way back, he first and foremost delivered Ni Erh's message to his wife, and then returned to his own home, where he found his mother seated all alone on a stove-couch spinning thread. As soon as she saw him enter, she inquired where he had been the whole day long, in reply to which Chia Yün, fearing lest his parent should be angry, forthwith made no allusion to what transpired with Pu Shih-jen, but simply explained that he had been in the western mansion, waiting for his uncle Secundus, Lien. This over, he asked his mother whether she had had her meal or not, and his parent said by way of reply: "I've had it, but I've kept something for you in there," and calling to the servant-maid, she bade her bring it round, and set it before him to eat. But as it was already dark, when the lamps had to be lit, Chia Yün, after partaking of his meal, got ready and turned in. Nothing of any notice transpired the whole night; but the next day, as soon it was dawn, he got up, washed his face, and came to the main street, outside the south gate, and purchasing some musk from a perfumery shop, he, with rapid stride, entered the Jung Kuo mansion; and having, as a result of his inquiries, found out that Chia Lien had gone out of doors, Chia Yün readily betook himself to the back, in front of the door of Chia Lien's court, where he saw several servant-lads, with immense brooms in their hands, engaged in that place in sweeping the court. But as he suddenly caught sight of Chou Jui's wife appear outside the door, and call out to the young boys; "Don't sweep now, our lady is coming out," Chia Yün eagerly walked up to her and inquired, with a face beaming with smiles: "Where's aunt Secunda going to?" To this inquiry, Chou Jui's wife explained: "Our old lady has sent for her, and I expect, it must be for her to cut some piece of cloth or other." But while she yet spoke, they perceived a whole bevy of people, pressing round lady Feng, as she egressed from the apartment. Chia Yün was perfectly aware that lady Feng took pleasure in flattery, and delighted in display, so that hastily dropping his arms, he with all reverence, thrust himself forward and paid his respects to her. But lady Feng did not even so much as turn to look at him with straight eyes; but continued, as hitherto, her way onwards, simply confining herself to ascertaining whether his mother was all right, and adding: "How is it that she doesn't come to our house for a stroll?" "The thing is," Chia Yün replied, "that she's not well: she, however, often thinks fondly of you, aunt, and longs to see you; but as for coming round, she's quite unable to do so." "You have, indeed, the knack of telling lies!" lady Feng laughed with irony; "for hadn't I alluded to her, she would never have thought of me!" "Isn't your nephew afraid," Chia Yün protested smilingly, "of being blasted by lightning to have the audacity of telling lies in the presence of an elder! Even so late as yesterday evening, she alluded to you, aunt! 'Though naturally,' she said, 'of a weak constitution, you had, however, plenty to attend to! that it's thanks to your supremely eminent energies, aunt, that you're, after all, able to manage everything in such a perfect manner; and that had you ever made the slightest slip, there would have long ago crept up, goodness knows, what troubles!'" As soon as lady Feng heard these words, her whole face beamed with smiles, and she unconsciously halted her steps, while she proceeded to ask: "How is it that, both your mother and yourself, tattle about me behind my back, without rhyme or reason?" "There's a reason for it," Chia Yün observed, "which is simply this. I've an excellent friend with considerable money of his own at home, who recently kept a perfumery shop; but as he obtained, by purchase, the rank of deputy sub-prefect, he was, the other day, selected for a post in Yunnan, in some prefecture or other unknown to me; whither he has gone together with his family. He even closed this shop of his, and forthwith collecting all his wares, he gave away, what he could give away, and what he had to sell at a discount, was sold at a loss; while such valuable articles, as these, were all presented to relatives or friends; and that's why it is that I came in for some baroos camphor and musk. But I at the time, deliberated with my mother that to sell them below their price would be a pity, and that if we wished to give them as a present to any one, there was no one good enough to use such perfumes. But remembering how you, aunt, had all along in years gone by, even to this day, to spend large bundles of silver, in purchasing such articles, and how, not to speak of this year with an imperial consort in the Palace, what's even required for this dragon boat festival, will also necessitate the addition of hundred times as much as the quantity of previous years, I therefore present them to you, aunt, as a token of my esteem!" With these words still on his lips, he simultaneously produced an ornamented box, which he handed over to her. And as lady Feng was, at this time, making preparations for presents for the occasion of the dragon boat festival, for which perfumes were obligatory, she, with all promptitude, directed Feng Erh: "Receive Mr. Yün's present and take it home and hand it over to P'ing Erh. To one," she consequently added, "who seems to me so full of discrimination, it isn't a wonder that your uncle is repeatedly alluding, and that he speaks highly of you; how that you talk with all intelligence and that you have experience stored up in your mind." Chia Yün upon hearing this propitious language, hastily drew near one step, and designedly asked: "Does really uncle often refer to me?" The moment lady Feng caught this question, she was at once inclined to tell him all about the charge to be entrusted to him, but on second thought, she again felt apprehensive lest she should be looked lightly upon by him, by simply insinuating that she had promptly and needlessly promised him something to do, so soon as she got a little scented ware; and this consideration urged her to once more restrain her tongue, so that she never made the slightest reference even to so much as one word about his having been chosen to look after the works of planting the flowers and trees. And after confining herself to making the first few irrelevant remarks which came to her lips, she hastily betook herself into dowager lady Chia's apartments. Chia Yün himself did not feel as if he could very well advert to the subject, with the result that he had no alternative but to retrace his steps homewards. But as when he had seen Pao-yü the previous day, he had asked him to go into the outer library and wait for him, he therefore finished his meal and then once again entered the mansion and came over into the I Hsia study, situated outside the ceremonial gate, over at old lady Chia's part of the compound, where he discovered the two lads Ming Yen, whose name had been changed into Pei Ming, and Chu Yo playing at chess, and just arguing about the capture of a castle; and besides them, Yin Ch'uan, Sao Hua, T'iao Yün, Pan Ho, these four or five of them, up to larks, stealing the young birds from the nests under the eaves of the house. As soon as Chia Yün entered the court, he stamped his foot and shouted, "The monkeys are up to mischief! Here I am, I've come;" and when the company of servant-boys perceived him, they one and all promptly dispersed; while Chia Yün walked into the library, and seating himself at once in a chair, he inquired, "Has your master Secundus, Mr. Pao, come down?" "He hasn't been down here at all to-day," Pei Ming replied, "but if you, Mr. Secundus, have anything to tell him, I'll go and see what he's up to for you." Saying this he there and then left the room; and Chia Yün meanwhile gave himself to the inspection of the pictures and nicknacks. But some considerable time elapsed, and yet he did not see him arrive; and noticing besides that the other lads had all gone to romp, he was just plunged in a state of despondency, when he heard outside the door a voice cry out, with winning tone, and tender accents: "My elder brother!" Chia Yün looked out, and saw that it was a servant-maid of fifteen or sixteen, who was indeed extremely winsome and spruce. As soon however as the maid caught a glimpse of Chia Yün, she speedily turned herself round and withdrew out of sight. But, as luck would have it, it happened that Pei Ming was coming along, and seeing the servant-maid in front of the door, he observed: "Welcome, welcome! I was quite at a loss how to get any news of Pao-yü." And as Chia Yün discerned Pei Ming, he hastily too, ran out in pursuit of him, and ascertained what was up; whereupon Pei Ming returned for answer: "I waited a whole day long, and not a single soul came over; but this girl is attached to master Secundus' (Mr. Pao's) rooms!" and, "My dear girl," he consequently went on to say, "go in and take a message. Say that Mr. Secundus, who lives under the portico, has come!" The servant-maid, upon hearing these words, knew at once that he was a young gentleman belonging to the family in which she served, and she did not skulk out of sight, as she had done in the first instance; but with a gaze sufficient to kill, she fixed her two eyes upon Chia Yün, when she heard Chia Yün interpose: "What about over the portico and under the portico; you just tell him that Yün Erh is come, that's all." After a while this girl gave a sarcastic smile. "My idea is," she ventured, "that you, master Secundus, should really, if it so please you, go back, and come again to-morrow; and to-night, if I find time, I'll just put in a word with him!" "What's this that you're driving at?" Pei Ming then shouted. And the maid rejoined: "He's not even had a siesta to-day, so that he'll have his dinner at an early hour, and won't come down again in the evening; and is it likely that you would have master Secundus wait here and suffer hunger? and isn't it better than he should return home? The right thing is that he should come to-morrow; for were even by and by some one to turn up, who could take a message, that person would simply acquiesce with the lips, but would he be willing to deliver the message in for you?" Chia Yün, upon finding how concise and yet how well expressed this girl's remarks had been, was bent upon inquiring what her name was; but as she was a maid employed in Pao-yü's apartments, he did not therefore feel justified in asking the question, and he had no other course but to add, "What you say is quite right, I'll come to-morrow!" and as he spoke, he there and then was making his way outside, when Pei Ming remarked: "I'll go and pour a cup of tea; and master Secundus, have your tea and then go." Chia Yün turned his head round, as he kept on his way, and said by way of rejoinder: "I won't have any tea; for I've besides something more to attend to!" and while with his lips he uttered these words, he, with his eyes, stared at the servant-girl, who was still standing in there. Chia Yün wended his steps straightway home; and the next day, he came to the front entrance, where, by a strange coincidence, he met lady Feng on her way to the opposite side to pay her respects. She had just mounted her carriage, but perceiving Chia Yün arrive, she eagerly bade a servant stop him, and, with the window between them, she smiled and observed: "Yün Erh, you're indeed bold in playing your pranks with me! I thought it strange that you should give me presents; but the fact is you had a favour to ask of me; and your uncle told me even yesterday that you had appealed to him!" Chia Yün smiled. "Of my appeal to uncle, you needn't, aunt, make any mention; for I'm at this moment full of regret at having made it. Had I known, at an early hour, that things would have come to this pass, I would, from the very first, have made my request to you, aunt; and by this time everything would have been settled long ago! But who would have anticipated that uncle was, after all, a man of no worth!" "Strange enough," lady Feng remarked sneeringly, "when you found that you didn't succeed in that quarter, you came again yesterday in search of me!" "Aunt, you do my filial heart an injustice," Chia Yün protested; "I never had such a thought; had I entertained any such idea, wouldn't I, aunt, have made my appeal to you yesterday? But as you are now aware of everything, I'll really put uncle on one side, and prefer my request to you; for circumstances compel me to entreat you, aunt, to be so good as to show me some little consideration!" Lady Feng laughed sardonically. "You people will choose the long road to follow and put me also in a dilemma! Had you told me just one word at an early hour, what couldn't have been brought about? an affair of state indeed to be delayed up to this moment! In the garden, there are to be more trees planted and flowers laid down, and I couldn't think of any person that I could have recommended, and had you spoken before this, wouldn't the whole question have been settled soon enough?" "Well, in that case, aunt," ventured Chia Yün with a smile, "you had better depute me to-morrow, and have done!" "This job," continued lady Feng after a pause, "is not, my impression is, very profitable; and if you were to wait till the first moon of next year, when the fireworks, lanterns, and candles will have to be purveyed, I'll depute you as soon as those extensive commissions turn up." "My dear aunt," pleaded Chia Yün, "first appoint me to this one, and if I do really manage this satisfactorily, you can then commission me with that other!" "You know in truth how to draw a long thread," lady Feng observed laughing. "But hadn't it been that your uncle had spoken to me on your account, I wouldn't have concerned myself about you. But as I shall cross over here soon after the repast, you had better come at eleven a.m., and fetch the money, for you to enter into the garden the day after to-morrow, and have the flowers planted!" As she said this, she gave orders to drive the "scented" carriage, and went on her way by the quickest cut; while Chia Yün, who was irrepressibly delighted, betook himself into the I Hsia study, and inquired after Pao-yü. But, who would have thought it, Pao-yü had, at an early hour, gone to the mansion of the Prince of Pei Ching, so that Chia Yün had to sit in a listless mood till noon; and when he found out that lady Feng had returned, he speedily wrote an acknowledgment and came to receive the warrant. On his arrival outside the court, he commissioned a servant to announce him, and Ts'ai Ming thereupon walked out, and merely asking for the receipt, went in, and, after filling in the amount, the year and moon, he handed it over to Chia Yün together with the warrant. Chia Yün received them from him, and as the entry consisted of two hundred taels, his heart was full of exultant joy; and turning round, he hurried to the treasury, where after he had taken over the amount in silver, he returned home and laid the case before his mother, and needless to say, that both the parent and her son were in high spirits. The next day, at the fifth watch, Chia Yun first came in search of Ni Erh, to whom he repaid the money, and then taking fifty taels along with him, he sped outside the western gate to the house of Fang Ch'un, a gardener, to purchase trees, where we will leave him without saying anything more about him. We will now resume our story with Pao-yü. The day on which he encountered Chia Yün, he asked him to come in on the morrow and have a chat with him, but this invitation was practically the mere formal talk of a rich and well-to-do young man, and was not likely to be so much as borne in mind; and so it was that it readily slipped from his memory. On the evening of the day, however, on which he returned home from the mansion of the Prince Pei Ching, he came, after paying his salutations to dowager lady Chia, madame Wang, and the other inmates, back into the garden; but upon divesting himself of all his fineries, he was just about to have his bath, when, as Hsi Jen had, at the invitation of Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai, crossed over to tie a few knotted buttons, as Ch'in Wen and Pi Hen had both gone to hurry the servants to bring the water, as T'an Yun had likewise been taken home, on account of her mother's illness, and She Yueh, on the other hand, was at present ailing in her quarters, while the several waiting-maids, who were in there besides to attend to the dirty work, and answer the calls, had, surmising that he would not requisition their services, one and all gone out in search of their friends and in quest of their companions, it occurred, contrary to their calculations, that Pao-yü remained this whole length of time quite alone in his apartments; and as it so happened that Pao-yü wanted tea to drink, he had to call two or three times before he at last saw three old matrons walk in. But at the sight of them, Pao-yü hastily waved his hand and exclaimed: "No matter, no matter; I don't want you," whereupon the matrons had no help but to withdraw out of the rooms; and as Pao-yü perceived that there were no waiting-maids at hand, he had to come down and take a cup and go up to the teapot to pour the tea; when he heard some one from behind him observe: "Master Secundus, beware, you'll scorch your hand; wait until I come to pour it!" And as she spoke, she walked up to him, and took the cup from his grasp, to the intense surprise, in fact, of Pao-yü, who inquired: "Where were you that you have suddenly come to give me a start?" The waiting-maid smiled as she handed him the tea. "I was in the back court," she replied, "and just came in from the back door of the inner rooms; and is it likely that you didn't, sir, hear the sound of my footsteps?" Pao-yü drank his tea, and as he simultaneously passed the servant-girl under a minute inspection, he found that though she wore several articles of clothing the worse for wear, she was, nevertheless, with that head of beautiful hair, as black as the plumage of a raven, done up in curls, her face so oblong, her figure so slim and elegant, indeed, supremely beautiful, sweet, and spruce, and Pao-yü eagerly inquired: "Are you also a girl attached to this room of mine?" "I am," rejoined that waiting-maid. "But since you belong to this room, how is it I don't know you?" Pao-yü added. When the maid heard these words, she forced a laugh. "There are even many," she explained, "that are strangers to you; and is it only myself? I've never, before this, served tea, or handed water, or brought in anything; nor have I attended to a single duty in your presence, so how could you know me?" "But why don't you attend to any of those duties that would bring you to my notice?" Pao-yü questioned. "I too," answered the maid, "find it as difficult to answer such a question. There's however one thing that I must report to you, master Secundus. Yesterday, some Mr. Yün Erh or other came to see you; but as I thought you, sir, had no leisure, I speedily bade Pei Ming tell him to come early to-day. But you unexpectedly went over again to the mansion of the Prince of Pei Ching." When she had spoken as far as this, she caught sight of Ch'iu Wen and Pi Hen enter the court, giggling and laughing; the two of them carrying between them a bucket of water; and while raising their skirts with one hand, they hobbled along, as the water spurted and plashed. The waiting-maid hastily come out to meet them so as to relieve them of their burden, but Ch'iu Wen and Pi Hen were in the act of standing face to face and finding fault with each other; one saying, "You've wetted my clothes," the other adding, "You've trod on my shoes," and upon, all of a sudden, espying some one walk out to receive the water, and discovering, when they came to see, that it was actually no one else than Hsiao Hung, they were at once both so taken aback that, putting down the bucket, they hurried into the room; and when they looked about and saw that there was no other person inside besides Pao-yü they were at once displeased. But as they were meanwhile compelled to get ready the articles necessary for his bath, they waited until Pao-yü was about to divest himself of his clothes, when the couple of them speedily pulled the door to behind them, as they went out, and walked as far as the room on the opposite side, in search of Hsiao Hung; of whom they inquired: "What were you doing in his room a short while back?" "When was I ever in the room?" Hsiao Hung replied; "simply because I lost sight of my handkerchief, I went to the back to try and find it, when unexpectedly Mr. Secundus, who wanted tea, called for you sisters; and as there wasn't one even of you there, I walked in and poured a cup for him, and just at that very moment you sisters came back." "You barefaced, low-bred thing!" cried Ch'iu Wen, turning towards her and spurting in her face. "It was our bounden duty to tell you to go and hurry them for the water, but you simply maintained that you were busy and made us go instead, in order to afford you an opportunity of performing these wily tricks! and isn't this raising yourself up li by li? But don't we forsooth, even so much as come up to you? and you just take that looking-glass and see for yourself, whether you be fit to serve tea and to hand water or not?" "To-morrow," continued Pi Hea, "I'll tell them that whenever there's anything to do connected with his wanting tea, or asking for water, or with fetching things for him, not one of us should budge, and that _she_ alone should be allowed to go, and have done!" "If this be your suggestion," remarked Ch'iu Wen, "wouldn't it be still better that we should all disperse, and let her reign supreme in this room!" But while the two of them were up to this trouble, one saying one thing, and another, another, they caught sight of two old nurses walk in to deliver a message from lady Feng; who explained: "To-morrow, someone will bring in gardeners to plant trees, and she bids you keep under more rigorous restraint, and not sun your clothes and petticoats anywhere and everywhere; nor air them about heedlessly; that the artificial hill will, all along, be entirely shut in by screening curtains, and that you mustn't he running about at random." "I wonder," interposed Ch'iu Wen with alacrity, "who it is that will bring the workmen to-morrow, and supervise the works?" "Some one or other called Mr. Yün, living at the back portico," the old woman observed. But Ch'iu Wen and Pi Hen were neither of them acquainted with him, and they went on promiscuously asking further questions on his account, but Hsiao Hung knew distinctly in her mind who it was, and was well aware that it was the person whom she had seen, the previous day, in the outer library. The surname of this Hsiao Hung had, in fact, been originally Lin, while her infant name had been Hung Yü; but as the word Yü improperly corresponded with the names of Pao-yü and Tai-yü, she was, in due course, simply called Hsiao Hung. She was indeed an hereditary servant of the mansion; and her father had latterly taken over the charge of all matters connected with the farms and farmhouses in every locality. This Hung-yü came, at the age of sixteen, into the mansion, to enter into service, and was attached to the Hung Yuan, where in point of fact she found both a quiet and pleasant home; and when contrary to all expectation, the young ladies as well as Pao-yü, were subsequently permitted to move their quarters into the garden of Broad Vista, it so happened that this place was, moreover, fixed upon by Pao-yü. This Hsiao Hung was, it is true, a girl without any experience, but as she could, to a certain degree, boast of a pretty face, and as, in her own heart, she recklessly fostered the idea of exalting herself to a higher standard, she was ever ready to thrust herself in Pao-yü's way, with a view to showing herself off. But attached to Pao-yü's personal service were a lot of servants, all of whom were glib and specious, so that how could she ever find an opportunity of thrusting herself forward? But contrary to her anticipations, there turned up, eventually on this day, some faint glimmer of hope, but as she again came in for a spell of spiteful abuse from Ch'iu Wen and her companion, her expectations were soon considerably frustrated, and she was just plunged in a melancholy mood, when suddenly she heard the old nurse begin the conversation about Chia Yün, which unconsciously so affected her heart that she hastily returned, quite disconsolate, into her room, and lay herself down on her bed, giving herself quietly to reflection. But while she was racking and torturing her brain and at a moment when she was at a loss what decision to grasp, her ear unexpectedly caught, emanating from outside the window, a faint voice say: "Hsiao Hung, I've picked up your pocket handkerchief in here!" and as soon as Hsiao Hung heard these words, she walked out with hurried step and found that it was no one else than Chia Yün in person; and as Hsiao Hung unwillingly felt her powdered face suffused with brushes: "Where did you pick it up, Mr. Secundus?" she asked. "Come over," Chia Yün smiled, "and I'll tell you!" And as he uttered these words, he came up and drew her to him; but Hsiao Hung twisted herself round and ran away; but was however tripped over by the step of the door. Now, reader, do you want to know the sequel? If so the next chapter will explain. END OF BOOK I ERRATA [as noted in the original book]. Preface rhythm not rhymes Chap. I Page 7 Line 30 on _not_ in " " " 13 " 11 _dele_ he " II " 22 " 18 Yü-ts'un _not_ Y-tüs'un " " " 22 " 25 dele _one_ the " " " 30 " 14 imbued with _not_ by " III " 50 " 33 rhythm _not_ rythm " IV " 64 " 27 _dele_ as _and read:_ and his widowed mother etc. " " " 65 " 3 _dele_ in _and read_: while the rest of his " V " 80 " 23 monitory _not_ Monotony " " " 87 " 21 fervour _not_ favour " VI " 92 " 20 bonzes _not_ bonze " " " 93 " 1 _Read_: Ai-ya, exclaimed old Goody; It may very well be said that the marquis' door etc. " " " 99 " 4 _read_: à la Chao Chün " VII " 114 " 13 Chia Jung _not_ Ch'ia Jung " " " 119 " 10 steward _not_ setward " IX " 140 " 10 whiff _not_ wiff " " " 141 " 26 roll _not_ rollster " X " 157 " 16 action _not_ actions " XIII " 196 " 23 in the fear _not_ in fear " XIV " 199 " 39 roll _not_ rollster " XV " 215 " 23 preparations _not_ preparation " XVI " 231 " 22 But these words _not_ But that these words etc. " " " 238 " 33 roll _not_ rollester " XVIII " 270 " 11 _delete_ he " " " 270 " 40 otter _not_ other " " " 280 " 20 roll _not_ rollster " XIX " 290 " 15 _supply_ 'the' _before_ milk " XX " 304 " 39 _read_: lying down, and she felt etc. " XXI " 321 " 35 though he was _not_ were " " " 324 " 12 _supply_ 'with' _after_ fumbling " XXIII " 331 " 32 _read_: a fancy to _not_ for " " " 338 " 13 _supply_ 'himself' _after_ laying " XXIII " 349 " 38 him _not_ her " " " 353 " 39 devotes his energies to _not_ upon " " " 361 " 1 felt _not_ fell " " " 371 " 21 lips _not_ slips ERRATA [additional ones caught during Project Gutenberg proofreading.] Chap. I Page 3 Line 23: mustn't _not_ must'nt II " 29 " 33: tranquility _not_ tranquilty III " 44 " 2: library _not_ litrary III " 50 " 18: neck _not_ neek III " 50 " 19: ornaments _not_ ormaments V " 70 " 26: consistency _not_ consisteney V " 73 " 13: "daughter, Shou Ch'ang" _not_ "daughter. Shou Ch'ang" V " 86 " 15: haven't _not_ have'nt VI " 95 " 20: You've _not_ Youv'e VI " 95 " 34: it's _not_ its VI " 96 " 2: come _not_ came VII " 114 " 14: Isn't _not_ Is'nt VIII " 121 " 17: subsequently _not_ subequently IX " 145 " 1: consternation _not_ conternation X " 155 " 37: night's _not_ night't XI " 167 " 28: Isn't _not_ Is'nt XII " 179 " 1: insistence _not_ insistance XII " 182 " 33: affectionate _not_ affectunate XIII " 198 " 37: roll _not_ rollster XIV " 203 " 22: Ts'ai's _not_ T'sai's XIV " 206 " 1: exclaimed _not_ exclained XV " 218 " 21: each _not_ eaeh XVI " 226 " 34: pupil _not_ purpil XVII " 249 " 35: intertwine _not_ interwine XVII " 252 " 29: isn't _not_ is'nt XVII " 255 " 15: and _not_ aud XVII " 260 " 35: unexpectedly _not_ unexpectly XVIII " 280 " 20: roll _not_ rollster XX " 315 " 12: three)." _not_ three." XXI " 329 " 31: Isn't _not_ Is'nt XXII " 341 " 11: hasn't _not_ has'nt XXII " 344 " 16: enjoy _not_ injoy XXII " 346 " 6: meetest _not_ metest XXII " 346 " 20: Isn't _not_ Is'nt XXIII " 349 " 10: difficulties _not_ diffiulties XXIII " 356 " 1: autumnal _not_ autummal XXIII " 356 " 41: manuscripts _not_ manscripts XXIV " 364 " 38: back," _not_ back, XXIV " 368 " 19: neighbours _not_ neighours XXIV " 377 " 17: opportunity _not_ apportunity [Notes on Project Gutenberg edition. The original Chinese novel was written by Cao Xueqin. Another author later added half again as much. H. Bencraft Joly translated only the work of the first author, essentially two-thirds of the whole; the work ends abruptly at the end of volume II as if he intended to go on, but the third volume was never published. The work was not well proofread originally. There are other better and more complete English translations, but this is the only one we could find that is in the public domain in the USA. Both lists of errata have been corrected in the text. The error noted in the original errata list as being on page 140 was actually on page 145. There were far too many punctuation errata that were corrected, to list them all here. There IS such a word as 'teapoy'; it is NOT 'teapot' and it means a three-legged table. 'Dullness' was consistently spelled 'dulness' and is left thus. 'Decrepit' was consistently spelled 'decrepid' and is left thus. 'Dote, dotes,' etc. was consistently spelled 'doat, doats,' etc. and is left thus. 'License' is spelled once thus and once 'licence.' The word 'speciality' appears only once, and that is the proper British spelling. Whenever a proper name normally contained an umlaut we attempted to supply it in the instances where it was missing; this was most common with the name Pao-yü. There were also variations of use of apostrophes in proper names, and many were corrected. Neither of these is listed in the errata above.] 
12894	----	SACRED BOOKS OF THE EAST Including Selections from the Vedic Hymns, Zend-Avesta, Dhammapada, Upanishads, the Koran, and the Life of Buddha, with Critical and Biographical Sketches by Epiphanius Wilson, A.M. 1900 CONTENTS VEDIC HYMNS Introduction To the Unknown God To the Maruts To the Maruts and Indra To Indra and the Maruts To Agni and the Maruts To Rudra To Rudra To Agní and the Maruts To Vâyu To Vâyu Indra and Agastya: A Dialogue To Soma and Rudra To Rudra To Vâta To Vâta THE ZEND-AVESTA Introduction Discovery of the Zend-Avesta The Creation Myth of Yima The Earth Contracts and Outrages Uncleanness Funerals and Purification Cleansing the Unclean Spells Recited During the Cleansing To Fires, Waters, Plants To the Earth and the Sacred Waters Prayer for Helpers A Prayer for Sanctity and its Benefits To the Fire To the Bountiful Immortals Praise of the Holy Bull To Rain as a Healing Power To the Waters and Light of the Sun To the Waters and Light of the Moon To the Waters and Light of the Stars THE DHAMMAPADA Introduction CHAPTER I.--The Twin-Verses II.--On Earnestness III.--Thought IV.--Flowers V.--The Fool VI.--The Wise Man VII.--The Venerable VIII.--The Thousands IX.--Evil X.--Punishment XI.--Old Age XII.--Self XIII.--The World XIV.--The Buddha--The Awakened XV.--Happiness XVI.--Pleasure XVII.--Anger XVIII.--Impurity XIX.--The Just XX.--The Way XXI.--Miscellaneous XXII.--The Downward Course XXIII.--The Elephant XXIV.--Thirst XXV.--The Bhikshu XXVI.--The Brâhmana THE UPANISHADS Introduction KAUSHÍTAKI-UPANISHAD.-- The Couch of Brahman Knowledge of the Living Spirit Life and Consciousness SELECTIONS FROM THE KORAN Introduction Mohammed and Mohammedanism Chapter I.----Entitled, the Preface Chapter II.---Entitled, the Cow Chapter III.--Entitled, the Family of Imran Chapter IV.---Entitled, Women Chapter V.----Entitled, the Table LIFE OF BUDDHA Introduction CHAPTER I.-- The Birth Living in the Palace Disgust at Sorrow Putting Away Desire Leaving the City CHAPTER II.-- The Return of Kandaka Entering the Place of Austerities The General Grief of the Palace The Mission to Seek the Prince CHAPTER III.-- Bimbisara Râga Invites the Prince The Reply to Bimbisara Râga Visit to Ârada Udrarama Defeats Mara O-wei-san-pou-ti (Abhisambodhi) Turning the Law-wheel CHAPTER IV.-- Bimbisara Râga Becomes a Disciple The Great Disciple Becomes a Hermit Conversion of the "Supporter of the Orphans and Destitute" Interview Between Father and Son Receiving the Getavana Vihara Escaping the Drunken Elephant and Devadatta The Lady Âmra Sees Buddha CHAPTER V.-- By Spiritual Power Fixing His Term of Years The Differences of the Likkhavis Parinirvana Mahaparinirvana Praising Nirvana Division of the Sariras VEDIC HYMNS Translation by F. Max Müller. INTRODUCTION The Vedic Hymns are among the most interesting portions of Hindoo literature. In form and spirit they resemble both the poems of the Hebrew psalter and the lyrics of Pindar. They deal with the most elemental religious conceptions and are full of the imagery of nature. It would be absurd to deny to very many of them the possession of the truest poetic inspiration. The scenery of the Himalayas, ice and snow, storm and tempest, lend their majesty to the strains of the Vedic poet. He describes the storm sweeping over the white-crested mountains till the earth, like a hoary king, trembles with fear. The Maruts, or storm-gods, are terrible, glorious, musical, riding on strong-hoofed, never-wearying steeds. There is something Homeric, Pindaric in these epithets. Yet Soma and Rudra are addressed, though they wield sharp weapons; and sharp bolts, i.e., those of the lightning, are spoken of as kind friends. "Deliver us," says the poet, "from the snare of Varuna, and guard us, as kind-hearted gods." One of the most remarkable of these hymns is that addressed to the Unknown God. The poet says: "In the beginning there arose the Golden Child. As soon as he was born he alone was the lord of all that is. He established the earth and this heaven." The hymn consists of ten stanzas, in which the Deity is celebrated as the maker of the snowy mountains, the sea and the distant river, who made fast the awful heaven, He who alone is God above all gods, before whom heaven and earth stand trembling in their mind. Each stanza concludes with the refrain, "Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice?" We have in this hymn a most sublime conception of the Supreme Being, and while there are many Vedic hymns whose tone is pantheistic and seems to imply that the wild forces of nature are Gods who rule the world, this hymn to the Unknown God is as purely monotheistic as a psalm of David, and shows a spirit of religious awe as profound as any we find in the Hebrew Scriptures. It is very difficult to arrive at the true date of the Vedas. The word Veda means knowledge, and is applied to unwritten literature. The Vedas are therefore the oldest Sanscrit writings which exist, and stand in the same class with regard to Hindoo literature as Homer does with regard to Greek literature. Probably the earliest Vedas were recited a thousand years before Christ, while the more recent of the hymns date about five hundred before Christ. We must therefore consider them to be the most primitive form of Aryan poetry in existence. There is in the West a misunderstanding as to the exact meaning of "Vedic" and "Sanscrit"; for the latter is often used as if it were synonymous with Indian; whereas, only the later Indian literature can be classed under that head, and "Vedic" is often used to indicate only the Vedic Hymns, whereas it really denotes Hymns, Bráhmanas, Upanishads, and Sutras; in fact, all literature which orthodox Hindoos regard as sacred. The correct distinction then between the Vedic and the Sanscrit writings is that of holy writ and profane literature. E.W. VEDIC HYMNS TO THE UNKNOWN GOD In the beginning there arose the Golden Child. As soon as born, he alone was the lord of all that is. He established the earth and this heaven:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? He who gives breath, he who gives strength, whose command all the bright gods revere, whose shadow is immortality, whose shadow is death:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? He who through his might became the sole king of the breathing and twinkling world, who governs all this, man and beast:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? He through whose might these snowy mountains are, and the sea, they say, with the distant river; he of whom these regions are indeed the two arms:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? He through whom the awful heaven and the earth were made fast, he through whom the ether was established, and the firmament; he who measured the air in the sky:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? He to whom heaven and earth, standing firm by his will, look up, trembling in their mind; he over whom the risen sun shines forth:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? When the great waters went everywhere, holding the germ, and generating light, then there arose from them the breath of the gods:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? He who by his might looked even over the waters which held power and generated the sacrifice, he who alone is God above all gods:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? May he not hurt us, he who is the begetter of the earth, or he, the righteous, who begat the heaven; he who also begat the bright and mighty waters:--Who is the God to whom we shall offer sacrifice? Pragâpati, no other than thou embraces all these created things. May that be ours which we desire when sacrificing to thee: may we be lords of wealth! TO THE MARUTS[1] I Come hither, Maruts, on your chariots charged with lightning, resounding with beautiful songs, stored with spears, and winged with horses! Fly to us like birds, with your best food, you mighty ones! They come gloriously on their red, or, it may be, on their tawny horses which hasten their chariots. He who holds the axe is brilliant like gold;--with the tire of the chariot they have struck the earth. On your bodies there are daggers for beauty; may they stir up our minds as they stir up the forests. For yourselves, O well-born Maruts, the vigorous among you shake the stone for distilling Soma. Days went round you and came back, O hawks, back to this prayer, and to this sacred rite; the Gotamas making prayer with songs, pushed up the lid of the cloud to drink. No such hymn was ever known as this which Gotama sounded for you, O Maruts, when he saw you on golden wheels, wild boars rushing about with iron tusks. This comforting speech rushes sounding towards you, like the speech of a suppliant: it rushed freely from our hands as our speeches are wont to do. II Let us now proclaim for the robust host, for the herald of the powerful Indra, their ancient greatness! O ye strong-voiced Maruts, you heroes, prove your powers on your march, as with a torch, as with a sword! Like parents bringing a dainty to their own son, the wild Maruts play playfully at the sacrifices. The Rudras reach the worshipper with their protection, strong in themselves, they do not fail the sacrificer. For him to whom the immortal guardians have given fulness of wealth, and who is himself a giver of oblations, the Maruts, who gladden men with the milk of rain, pour out, like friends, many clouds. You who have stirred up the clouds with might, your horses rushed forth, self-guided. All beings who dwell in houses are afraid of you, your march is brilliant with your spears thrust forth. When they whose march is terrible have caused the rocks to tremble, or when the manly Maruts have shaken the back of heaven, then every lord of the forest fears at your racing, each shrub flies out of your way, whirling like chariot-wheels. You, O terrible Maruts, whose ranks are never broken, favorably fulfil our prayer! Wherever your glory-toothed lightning bites, it crunches cattle, like a well-aimed bolt. The Maruts whose gifts are firm, whose bounties are never ceasing, who do not revile, and who are highly praised at the sacrifices, they sing their song for to drink the sweet juice: they know the first manly deeds of the hero Indra. The man whom you have guarded, O Maruts, shield him with hundredfold strongholds from injury and mischief--the man whom you, O fearful, powerful singers, protect from reproach in the prosperity of his children. On your chariots, O Maruts, there are all good things, strong weapons are piled up clashing against each other. When you are on your journeys, you carry the rings on your shoulders, and your axle turns the two wheels at once. In their manly arms there are many good things, on their chests golden chains, flaring ornaments, on their shoulders speckled deer-skins, on their fellies sharp edges; as birds spread their wings, they spread out splendors behind. They, mighty by might, all-powerful powers, visible from afar like the heavens with the stars, sweet-toned, soft-tongued singers with their mouths, the Maruts, united with Indra, shout all around. This is your greatness, O well-born Maruts!--your bounty extends far, as the sway of Aditi. Not even Indra in his scorn can injure that bounty, on whatever man you have bestowed it for his good deeds. This is your kinship with us, O Maruts, that you, immortals, in former years have often protected the singer. Having through this prayer granted a hearing to man, all these heroes together have become well known by their valiant deeds. That we may long flourish, O Maruts, with your wealth, O ye racers, that our men may spread in the camp, therefore let me achieve the rite with these offerings. May this praise, O Maruts, this song of Mândârya, the son of Mâna, the poet, ask you with food for offspring for ourselves! May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain! III For the manly host, the joyful, the wise, for the Maruts bring thou, O Nodhas, a pure offering. I prepare songs, like as a handy priest, wise in his mind, prepares the water, mighty at sacrifices. They are born, the tall bulls of heaven, the manly youths of Rudra, the divine, the blameless, pure, and bright like suns; scattering raindrops, full of terrible designs, like giants. The youthful Rudras, they who never grow old, the slayers of the demon, have grown irresistible like mountains. They throw down with their strength all beings, even the strongest, on earth and in heaven. They deck themselves with glittering ornaments for a marvellous show; on their chests they fastened gold chains for beauty; the spears on their shoulders pound to pieces; they were born together by themselves, the men of Dyu. They who confer power, the roarers, the devourers of foes, they made winds and lightnings by their powers. The shakers milk the heavenly udders, they sprinkle the earth all round with milk. The bounteous Maruts pour forth water, mighty at sacrifices, the fat milk of the clouds. They seem to lead about the powerful horse, the cloud, to make it rain; they milk the thundering, unceasing spring. Mighty they are, powerful, of beautiful splendor, strong in themselves like mountains, yet swiftly gliding along;--you chew up forests, like wild elephants, when you have assumed your powers among the red flames. Like lions they roar, the wise Maruts, they are handsome like gazelles, the all-knowing. By night with their spotted rain-clouds and with their spears--lightnings--they rouse the companions together, they whose ire through strength is like the ire of serpents. You who march in companies, the friends of man, heroes, whose ire through strength is like the ire of serpents, salute heaven and earth! On the seats on your chariots, O Maruts, the lightning stands, visible like light. All-knowing, surrounded with wealth, endowed with powers, singers, men of endless prowess, armed with strong rings, they, the archers, have taken the arrow in their fists. The Maruts who with the golden tires of their wheels increase the rain, stir up the clouds like wanderers on the road. They are brisk, indefatigable, they move by themselves; they throw down what is firm, the Maruts with their brilliant spears make everything to reel. We invoke with prayer the offspring of Rudra, the brisk, the pure, the worshipful, the active. Cling for happiness-sake to the strong company of the Maruts, the chasers of the sky, the powerful, the impetuous. The mortal whom ye, Maruts, protected, he indeed surpasses people in strength through your protection. He carries off booty with his horses, treasures with his men; he acquires honorable wisdom, and he prospers. Give, O Maruts, to our lords strength glorious, invincible in battle, brilliant, wealth-acquiring, praiseworthy, known to all men. Let us foster our kith and kin during a hundred winters. Will you then, O Maruts, grant unto us wealth, durable, rich in men, defying all onslaughts?--wealth a hundred and a thousand-fold, always increasing?--May he who is rich in prayers come early and soon! IV Sing forth, O Kanvas, to the sportive host of your Maruts, brilliant on their chariots, and unscathed,--they who were born together, self-luminous, with the spotted deer, the spears, the daggers, the glittering ornaments. I hear their whips, almost close by, when they crack them in their hands; they gain splendor on their way. Sing forth the god-given prayer to the wild host of your Maruts, endowed with terrible vigor and strength. Celebrate the bull among the cows, for it is the sportive host of the Maruts; he grew as he tasted the rain. Who, O ye men, is the strongest among you here, ye shakers of heaven and earth, when you shake them like the hem of a garment? At your approach the son of man holds himself down; the gnarled cloud fled at your fierce anger. They at whose racings the earth, like a hoary king, trembles for fear on their ways, their birth is strong indeed: there is strength to come forth from their mother, nay, there is vigor twice enough for it. And these sons, the singers, stretched out the fences in their racings; the cows had to walk knee-deep. They cause this long and broad unceasing rain to fall on their ways. O Maruts, with such strength as yours, you have caused men to tremble, you have caused the mountains to tremble. As the Maruts pass along, they talk together on the way: does anyone hear them? Come fast on your quick steeds! there are worshippers for you among the Kanvas: may you well rejoice among them. Truly there is enough for your rejoicing. We always are their servants, that we may live even the whole of life. V To every sacrifice you hasten together, you accept prayer after prayer, O quick Maruts! Let me therefore bring you hither by my prayers from heaven and earth, for our welfare, and for our great protection; the shakers who were born to bring food and light, self-born and self-supported, like springs, like thousandfold waves of water, aye, visibly like unto excellent bulls, those Maruts, like Soma-drops, which squeezed from ripe stems dwell, when drunk, in the hearts of the worshipper--see how on their shoulders there clings as if a clinging wife; in their hands the quoit is held and the sword. Lightly they have come down from heaven of their own accord: Immortals, stir yourselves with the whip! The mighty Maruts on dustless paths, armed with brilliant spears, have shaken down even the strong places. O ye Maruts, who are armed with lightning-spears, who stirs you from within by himself, as the jaws are stirred by the tongue? You shake the sky, as if on the search for food; you are invoked by many, like the solar horse of the day. Where, O Maruts, is the top, where the bottom of the mighty sky where you came? When you throw down with the thunderbolt what is strong, like brittle things, you fly across the terrible sea! As your conquest is violent, splendid, terrible, full and crushing, so, O Maruts, is your gift delightful, like the largess of a liberal worshipper, wide-spreading, laughing like heavenly lightning. From the tires of their chariot-wheels streams gush forth, when they send out the voice of the clouds; the lightnings smiled upon the earth, when the Maruts shower down fatness. Prisni brought forth for the great fight the terrible train of the untiring Maruts: when fed they produced the dark cloud, and then looked about for invigorating food. May this praise, O Maruts, this song of Mândârya, the son of Mâna, the poet, ask you with food for offspring for ourselves! May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain! VI The Maruts charged with rain, endowed with fierce force, terrible like wild beasts, blazing in their strength, brilliant like fires, and impetuous, have uncovered the rain-giving cows by blowing away the cloud. The Maruts with their rings appeared like the heavens with their stars, they shone wide like streams from clouds as soon as Rudra, the strong man, was born for you, O golden-breasted Maruts, in the bright lap of Prisni. They wash their horses like racers in the courses, they hasten with the points of the reed on their quick steeds. O golden-jawed Maruts, violently shaking your jaws, you go quick with your spotted deer, being friends of one mind. Those Maruts have grown to feed all these beings, or, it may be, they have come hither for the sake of a friend, they who always bring quickening rain. They have spotted horses, their bounties cannot be taken away, they are like headlong charioteers on their ways. O Maruts, wielding your brilliant spears, come hither on smooth roads with your fiery cows whose udders are swelling; being of one mind, like swans toward their nests, to enjoy the sweet offering. O one-minded Maruts, come to our prayers, come to our libations like Indra praised by men! Fulfil our prayer, like the udder of a barren cow, and make the prayer glorious by booty to the singer. Grant us this strong horse for our chariot, a draught that rouses our prayers, from day to day, food to the singers, and to the poet in our homesteads luck, wisdom, inviolable and invincible strength. When the gold-breasted Maruts harness the horses to their chariots, bounteous in wealth, then it is as if a cow in the folds poured out to her calf copious food, to every man who has offered libations. Whatever mortal enemy may have placed us among wolves, shield us from hurt, ye Vasus! Turn the wheels with burning heat against him, and strike down the weapon of the impious fiend, O Rudras! Your march, O Maruts, appears brilliant, whether even friends have milked the udder of Prisni, or whether, O sons of Rudra, you mean to blame him who praises you, and to weaken those who are weakening Trita, O unbeguiled heroes. We invoke you, the great Maruts, the constant wanderers, at the offering of the rapid Vishnu; holding ladles and prayerful we ask the golden-colored and exalted Maruts for glorious wealth. The Dasagvas carried on the sacrifice first; may they rouse us at the break of dawn. Like the dawn, they uncover the dark nights with the red rays, the strong ones, with their brilliant light, as with a sea of milk. With the morning clouds, as if with glittering red ornaments, these Maruts have grown great in the sacred places. Streaming down with rushing splendor, they have assumed their bright and brilliant color. Approaching them for their great protection to help us, we invoke them with this worship, they whom Trita may bring near, like the five Hotri priests for victory, descending on their chariot to help. May that grace of yours by which you help the wretched across all anguish, and by which you deliver the worshipper from the reviler, come hither, O Maruts; may your favor approach us like a cow going to her calf! VII I come to you with this adoration, with a hymn I implore the favor of the quick Maruts. O Maruts, you have rejoiced in it clearly, put down then all anger and unharness your horses! This reverent praise of yours, O Maruts, fashioned in the heart, has been offered by the mind, O gods! Come to it, pleased in your mind, for you give increase to our worship. May the Maruts when they have been praised be gracious to us, and likewise Indra, the best giver of happiness, when he has been praised. May our lances through our valor stand always erect, O Maruts! I am afraid of this powerful one, and trembling in fear of Indra. For you the offerings were prepared--we have now put them away, forgive us! Thou through whom the Mânas see the mornings, whenever the eternal dawns flash forth with power, O Indra, O strong hero, grant thou glory to us with the Maruts, terrible with the terrible ones, strong and a giver of victory. O Indra, protect thou these bravest of men, let thy anger be turned away from the Maruts, for thou hast become victorious together with those brilliant heroes. May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain! VIII O Maruts, that man in whose dwelling you drink the Soma, ye mighty sons of heaven, he indeed has the best guardians. You who are propitiated either by sacrifices or from the prayers of the sage, hear the call, O Maruts! Aye, the powerful man to whom you have granted a sage, he will live in a stable rich in cattle. On the altar of this strong man Soma is poured out in daily sacrifices; praise and joy are sung. To him let the mighty Maruts listen, to him who surpasses all men, as the flowing rain-clouds pass over the sun. For we, O Maruts, have sacrificed at many harvests, through the mercies of the storm-gods. May that mortal be blessed, O chasing Maruts, whose offerings you carry off. You take notice either of the sweat of him who praises you, ye men of true strength, or of the desire of the suppliant. O ye of true strength, make this manifest with might! strike the fiend with your lightning! Hide the hideous darkness, destroy every tusky fiend. Make the light which we long for! IX Endowed with exceeding vigor and power, the singers, the never flinching, the immovable, the impetuous, the most beloved and most manly, have decked themselves with their glittering ornaments, a few only, like the heavens with the stars. When you have seen your way through the clefts, like birds, O Maruts, on whatever road it be, then the clouds on your chariots trickle everywhere, and you pour out the honey-like fatness for him who praises you. At their racings the earth shakes, as if broken, when on the heavenly paths they harness their deer for victory. They the sportive, the roaring, with bright spears, the shakers of the clouds have themselves glorified their greatness. That youthful company, with their spotted horses, moves by itself; hence it exercises lordship, invested with powers. Thou indeed art true, thou searchest out sin, thou art without blemish. Therefore the manly host will help this prayer. We speak after the kind of our old father, our tongue goes forth at the sight of the Soma: when the singers had joined Indra in deed, then only they took their holy names;--these Maruts, armed with beautiful rings, obtained splendors for their glory, they obtained rays, and men to celebrate them; nay, armed with daggers, speeding along, and fearless, they found the beloved domain of the Maruts. X What then now? When will you take us as a dear father takes his son by both hands, O ye gods, for whom the sacred grass has been trimmed? Where now? On what errand of yours are you going, in heaven, not on earth? Where are your cows sporting? Where are your newest favors, O Maruts? Where the blessings? Where all delights? If you, sons of Prisni, were mortals, and your praiser an immortal, then never should your praiser be unwelcome, like a deer in pasture grass, nor should he go on the path of Yama. Let not one sin after another, difficult to be conquered, overcome us; may it depart together with greed. Truly they are terrible and powerful; even to the desert the Rudriyas bring rain that is never dried up. The lightning lows like a cow, it follows as a mother follows after her young, when the shower of the Maruts has been let loose. Even by day the Maruts create darkness with the water-bearing cloud, when they drench the earth. Then from the shouting of the Maruts over the whole space of the earth, men reeled forward. Maruts on your strong-hoofed, never-wearying steeds go after those bright ones, which are still locked up. May your fellies be strong, the chariots, and their horses, may your reins be well-fashioned. Speak forth forever with thy voice to praise the Lord of prayer, Agni, who is like a friend, the bright one. Fashion a hymn in thy mouth! Expand like the cloud! Sing a song of praise. Worship the host of the Maruts, the terrible, the glorious, the musical. May they be magnified here among us. XI Let your voice-born prayers go forth to the great Vishnu, accompanied by the Maruts, Evayâmarut, and to the chasing host, adorned with good rings, the strong, in their jubilant throng, to the shouting power of the Maruts. O Maruts, you who are born great, and proclaim it yourselves by knowledge, Evayâmarut, that power of yours cannot be approached by wisdom, that power of theirs cannot be approached by gift or might; they are like unapproachable mountains. They who are heard with their voice from the high heaven, the brilliant and strong, Evayâmarut, in whose council no tyrant reigns, the rushing chariots of these roaring Maruts come forth, like fires with their own lightning. The wide-striding Vishnu strode forth from the great common seat, Evayâmarut. When he has started by himself from his own place along the ridges, O ye striving, mighty Maruts, he goes together with the heroes, conferring blessings. Impetuous, like your own shout, the strong one made everything tremble, the terrible, the wanderer, the mighty, Evayâmarut; strong with him you advanced self-luminous, with firm reins, golden colored, well armed, speeding along. Your greatness is infinite, ye Maruts, endowed with full power, may that terrible power help, Evayâmarut. In your raid you are indeed to be seen as charioteers; deliver us therefore from the enemy, like shining fires. May then these Rudras, lively like fires and with vigorous shine, help, Evayâmarut. The seat of the earth is stretched out far and wide, when the hosts of these faultless Maruts come quickly to the races. Come kindly on your path, O Maruts, listen to the call of him who praises you, Evayâmarut. Confidants of the great Vishnu, may you together, like charioteers, keep all hateful things far, by your wonderful skill. Come zealously to our sacrifice, ye worshipful, hear our guileless call, Evayâmarut. Like the oldest mountains in the sky, O wise guardians, prove yourselves for him irresistible to the enemy. XII O Syâvâsva, sing boldly with the Maruts, the singers who, worthy themselves of sacrifice, rejoice in their guileless glory according to their nature. They are indeed boldly the friends of strong power; they on their march protect all who by themselves are full of daring. Like rushing bulls, these Maruts spring over the dark cows, and then we perceive the might of the Maruts in heaven and on earth. Let us boldly offer praise and sacrifice to your Maruts, to all them who protect the generation of men, who protect the mortal from injury. They who are worthy, bounteous, men of perfect strength, to those heavenly Maruts who are worthy of sacrifice, praise the sacrifice! The tall men, coming near with their bright chains, and their weapon, have hurled forth their spears. Behind these Maruts there came by itself the splendor of heaven, like laughing lightnings. Those who have grown up on earth, or in the wide sky, or in the realm of the rivers, or in the abode of the great heaven, praise that host of the Maruts, endowed with true strength and boldness, whether those rushing heroes have by themselves harnessed their horses for triumph, or whether these brilliant Maruts have in the speckled cloud clothed themselves in wool, or whether by their strength they cut the mountain asunder with the tire of their chariot; call them comers, or goers, or enterers, or followers, under all these names, they watch on the straw for my sacrifice. The men watch, and their steeds watch. Then, so brilliant are their forms to be soon, that people say, Look at the strangers! In measured steps and wildly shouting the gleemen have danced towards the cloud. They who appeared one by one like thieves, were helpers to me to see the light. Worship, therefore, O seer, that host of Maruts, and keep and delight them with your voice, they who are themselves wise poets, tall heroes armed with lightning-spears. Approach, O seer, the host of Maruts, as a woman approaches a friend, for a gift; and you, Maruts, bold in your strength, hasten hither, even from heaven, when you have been praised by our hymns. If he, after perceiving them, has approached them as gods with an offering, then may he for a gift remain united with the brilliant Maruts, who by their ornaments are glorious on their march. They, the wise Maruts, the lords, who, when there was inquiry for their kindred, told me of the cow, they told me of Prisni as their mother, and of the strong Rudra as their father. The seven and seven heroes gave me each a hundred. On the Yamunâ I clear off glorious wealth in cows, I clear wealth in horses. XIII Those who glance forth like wives and yoke-fellows, the powerful sons of Rudra on their way, they, the Maruts, have indeed made heaven and earth to grow; they, the strong and wild, delight in the sacrifices. When grown up, they attained to greatness; the Rudras have established their seat in the sky. While singing their song and increasing their vigor, the sons of Prisni have clothed themselves in beauty. When these sons of the cow adorn themselves with glittering ornaments, the brilliant ones put bright weapons on their bodies. They drive away every adversary; fatness streams along their paths;--when you, the powerful, who shine with your spears, shaking even what is unshakable by strength--when you, O Maruts, the manly hosts, had yoked the spotted deer, swift as thought, to your chariots;--when you had yoked the spotted deer before your chariots, hurling thunderbolt in the fight, then the streams of the red-horse rush forth: like a skin with water they water the earth. May the swiftly-gliding, swift-winged horses carry you hither! Come forth with your arms! Sit down on the grass-pile; a wide seat has been made for you. Rejoice, O Maruts, in the sweet food. Strong in themselves, they grew with might; they stepped to the firmament, they made their seat wide. When Vishnu saved the enrapturing Soma, the Maruts sat down like birds on their beloved altar. Like heroes indeed thirsting for fight they rush about; like combatants eager for glory they have striven in battles. All beings are afraid of the Maruts; they are men terrible to behold, like kings. When the clever Tvashtar had turned the well-made, golden, thousand-edged thunderbolt, Indra takes it to perform his manly deeds; he slew Vritra, he forced out the stream of water. By their power they pushed the well aloft, they clove asunder the rock, however strong. Blowing forth their voice the bounteous Maruts performed, while drunk of Soma, their glorious deeds. They pushed the cloud athwart this way, they poured out the spring to the thirsty Gotama. The Maruts with beautiful splendor approach him with help, they in their own ways satisfied the desire of the sage. The shelters which you have for him who praises you, grant them threefold to the man who gives! Extend the same to us, O Maruts! Give us, ye heroes, wealth with valiant offspring! XIV Who are these resplendent men, dwelling together, the boys of Rudra, also with good horses? No one indeed knows their births, they alone know each other's birthplace. They plucked each other with their beaks; the hawks, rushing like the wind, strove together. A wise man understands these secrets, that Prisni, the great, bore an udder. May that clan be rich in heroes by the Maruts, always victorious, rich in manhood! They are quickest to go, most splendid with splendor, endowed with beauty, strong with strength. Strong is your strength, steadfast your powers, and thus by the Maruts is this clan mighty. Resplendent is your breath, furious are the minds of the wild host, like a shouting maniac. Keep from us entirely your flame, let not your hatred reach us here. I call on the dear names of your swift ones, so that the greedy should be satisfied, O Maruts, the well-armed, the swift, decked with beautiful chains, who themselves adorn their bodies. Bright are the libations for you, the bright ones, O Maruts, a bright sacrifice I prepare for the bright. In proper order came those who truly follow the order, the bright born, the bright, the pure. On your shoulders, O Maruts, are the rings, on your chests the golden chains are fastened; far-shining like lightnings with showers, you wield your weapons, according to your wont. Your hidden splendors come forth; spread out your powers, O racers! Accept, O Maruts, this thousandfold, domestic share, as an offering for the house-gods. If you thus listen, O Maruts, to this praise, at the invocation of the powerful sage, give him quickly a share of wealth in plentiful offspring, which no selfish enemy shall be able to hurt. The Maruts, who are fleet like racers, the manly youths, shone like Yakshas; they are beautiful like boys standing round the hearth, they play about like calves who are still sucking. May the bounteous Maruts be gracious to us, opening up to us the firm heaven and earth. May that bolt of yours which kills cattle and men be far from us! Incline to us, O Vasus, with your favors. The Hotri priest calls on you again and again, sitting down and praising your common gift, O Maruts. O strong ones, he who is the guardian of so much wealth, he calls on you with praises, free from guile. These Maruts stop the swift, they bend strength by strength, they ward off the curse of the plotter, and turn their heavy hatred on the enemy. These Maruts stir up even the sluggard, even the vagrant, as the gods pleased. O strong ones, drive away the darkness, and grant us all our kith and kin. May we not fall away from your bounty, O Maruts, may we not stay behind, O charioteers, in the distribution of your gifts. Let us share in the brilliant wealth, the well-acquired, that belongs to you, O strong ones. When valiant men fiercely fight together, for rivers, plants, and houses, then, O Maruts, sons of Rudra, be in battles our protectors from the enemy. O Maruts, you have valued the praises which our fathers have formerly recited to you; with the Maruts the victor is terrible in battle, with the Maruts alone the racer wins the prize. O Maruts, may we have a strong son, who is lord among men, a ruler, through whom we may cross the waters to dwell in safety, and then obtain our own home for you. May Indra then, Varuna, Mitra, Agni, the waters, the plants, the trees of the forest be pleased with us. Let us be in the keeping, in the lap of the Maruts; protect us always with your favors. XV Sing to the company of the Maruts, growing up together, the strong among the divine host: they stir heaven and earth by their might, they mount up to the firmament from the abyss of Nirriti. Even your birth was with fire and fury, O Maruts! You, terrible, wrathful, never tiring! You who stand forth with might and strength; everyone who sees the sun, fears at your coming. Grant mighty strength to our lords, if the Maruts are pleased with our praise. As a trodden path furthers a man, may they further us; help us with your brilliant favors. Favored by you, O Maruts, a wise man wins a hundred, favored by you a strong racer wins a thousand, favored by you a king also kills his enemy: may that gift of yours prevail, O ye shakers. I invite these bounteous sons of Rudra, will these Maruts turn again to us? Whatever they hated secretly or openly, that sin we pray the swift ones to forgive. This praise of our lords has been spoken: may the Maruts be pleased with this hymn. Keep far from us, O strong ones, all hatred, protect us always with your favors! XVI Come hither, do not fail, when you march forward! Do not stay away, O united friends, you who can bend even what is firm. O Maruts, Ribhukshans, come hither on your flaming strong fellies, O Rudras, come to us to-day with food, you much-desired ones, come to the sacrifice, you friends of the Sobharis. For we know indeed the terrible strength of the sons of Rudra, of the vigorous Maruts, the liberal givers of rain. The clouds were scattered, but the monster remained, heaven and earth were joined together. O you who are armed with bright rings, the tracts of the sky expanded, whenever you stir, radiant with your own splendor. Even things that cannot be thrown down resound at your race, the mountains, the lord of the forest--the earth quivers on your marches. The upper sky makes wide room, to let your violence pass, O Maruts, when these strong-armed heroes display their energies in their own bodies. According to their wont these men, exceeding terrible, impetuous, with strong and unbending forms, bring with them beautiful light. The arrow of the Sobharis is shot from the bowstrings at the golden chest on the chariot of the Maruts. They, the kindred of the cow, the well-born, should enjoy their food, the great ones should help us. Bring forward, O strongly-anointed priests, your libations to the strong host of the Maruts, the strongly advancing. O Maruts, O heroes, come quickly hither, like winged hawks, on your chariot with strong horses, of strong shape, with strong naves, to enjoy our libations. Their anointing is the same, the golden chains shine on their arms, their spears sparkle. These strong, manly, strong-armed Maruts, do not strive among themselves; firm are the bows, the weapons on your chariot, and on your faces are splendors. They whose terrible name, wide-spreading like the ocean, is the one of all that is of use, whose strength is like the vigor of their father, worship these Maruts, and praise them! Of these shouters, as of moving spokes, no one is the last; this is theirs by gift, by greatness is it theirs. Happy is he who was under your protection, O Maruts, in former mornings, or who may be so even now. Or he, O men, whose libations you went to enjoy; that mighty one, O shakers, will obtain your favors with brilliant riches and booty. As the sons of Rudra, the servants of the divine Dyu, will it, O youths, so shall it be. Whatever liberal givers may worship the Maruts, and move about together as generous benefactors, even from them turn towards us with a kinder heart, you youths! O Sobhari, call loud with your newest song the young, strong, and pure Maruts, as the plougher calls the cows. Worship the Maruts with a song, they who are strong like a boxer, called in to assist those who call for him in all fights; worship them the most glorious, like bright-shining bulls. Yes, O united friends, kindred, O Maruts, by a common birth, the oxen lick one another's humps. O ye dancers, with golden ornaments on your chests, even a mortal comes to ask for your brotherhood; take care of us, ye Maruts, for your friendship lasts forever. O bounteous Maruts, bring us some of your Marut-medicine, you friends, and steeds. With the favors whereby you favor the Sindhu, whereby you save, whereby you help Krivi, with those propitious favors be our delight, O delightful ones, ye who never hate your followers. O Maruts, for whom we have prepared good altars, whatever medicine there is on the Sindhu, on the Asiknî, in the seas, on the mountains, seeing it, you carry it all on your bodies. Bless us with it! Down to the earth, O Maruts, with what hurts our sick one--straighten what is crooked! XVII Full of devotion like priests with their prayers, wealthy like pious men, who please the gods with their offerings, beautiful to behold like brilliant kings, without a blemish like the youths of our hamlets--they who are gold-breasted like Agni with his splendor, quick to help like self-harnessed winds, good leaders like the oldest experts, they are to the righteous man like Somas, that yield the best protection. They who are roaring and hasting like winds, brilliant like the tongues of fires, powerful like mailed soldiers, full of blessings like the prayers of our fathers, who hold together like the spokes of chariot-wheels, who glance forward like victorious heroes, who scatter ghrita like wooing youths, who chant beautifully like singers, intoning a hymn of praise, who are swift like the best of horses, who are bounteous like lords of chariots on a suit, who are hastening on like water with downward floods, who are like the manifold Angiras with their numerous songs. These noble sons of Sindhu are like grinding-stones, they are always like Soma-stones, tearing everything to pieces; these sons of a good mother are like playful children, they are by their glare like a great troop on its march. Illumining the sacrifice like the rays of the dawn, they shone forth in their ornaments like triumphant warriors; the Maruts with bright spears seem like running rivers, from afar they measure many miles. O gods, make us happy and rich, prospering us, your praisers, O Maruts! Remember our praise and our friendship, for from of old there are always with you gifts of treasures. XVIII O Indra, a thousand have been thy helps accorded to us, a thousand, O driver of the bays, have been thy most delightful viands. May thousands of treasures richly to enjoy, may goods come to us a thousandfold. May the Maruts come towards us with their aids, the mighty ones, or with their best aids from the great heaven, now that their furthest steeds have rushed forth on the distant shore of the sea; there clings to the Maruts one who moves in secret, like a man's wife,[2] and who is like a spear carried behind, well grasped, resplendent, gold-adorned; there is also with them Vâk,[3] like unto a courtly, eloquent woman. Far away the brilliant, untiring Maruts cling to their young maid, as if she belonged to them all; but the terrible ones did not drive away Rodasi, for they wished her to grow their friend. When the divine Rodasi with dishevelled locks, the manly-minded, wished to follow them, she went, like Sûryâ,[4] to the chariot of her servant, with terrible look, as with the pace of a cloud. As soon as the poet with the libations, O Maruts, had sung his song at the sacrifice, pouring out Soma, the youthful men placed the young maid in their chariot as their companion for victory, mighty in assemblies. I praise what is the praiseworthy true greatness of those Maruts, that the manly-minded, proud, and strong one drives with them towards the blessed mothers. They protect Mitra and Varuna from the unspeakable, and Aryaman also finds out the infamous. Even what is firm and unshakable is being shaken; but he who dispenses treasures, O Maruts, has grown in strength. No people indeed, whether near to us, or from afar, have ever found the end of your strength, O Maruts! The Maruts, strong in daring strength, have, like the sea, boldly surrounded their haters. May we to-day, may we tomorrow in battle be called the most beloved of Indra. We were so formerly, may we truly be so day by day, and may the lord of the Maruts be with us. May this praise, O Maruts, this song of Mândârya, the son of Mâna, the poet, ask you with food for offspring for ourselves! May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain! XIX Who knows their birth? or who was of yore in the favor of the Maruts, when they harnessed the spotted deer? Who has heard them when they had mounted their chariots, how they went forth? For the sake of what liberal giver did they run, and their comrades followed, as streams of rain filled with food? They themselves said to me when day by day they came to the feast with their birds: they are manly youths and blameless; seeing them, praise them thus; they who shine by themselves in their ornaments, their daggers, their garlands, their golden chains, their rings, going on their chariots and on dry land. O Maruts, givers of quickening rain, I am made to rejoice, following after your chariots, as after days going with rain. The bucket which the bounteous heroes shook down from heaven for their worshipper, that cloud they send along heaven and earth, and showers follow on the dry land. The rivers having pierced the air with a rush of water, went forth like milk-cows; when your spotted deer roll about like horses that have hasted to the resting-place on their road. Come hither, O Maruts, from heaven, from the sky, even from near; do not go far away! Let not the Rasâ, the Anitabhâ, the Kubhâ, the Krumu, let not the Sindhu delay you! Let not the marshy Sarayu prevent you! May your favor be with us alone! The showers come forth after the host of your chariots, after the terrible Marut-host of the ever-youthful heroes. Let us then follow with our praises and our prayers each host of yours, each troop, each company. To what well-born generous worshipper have the Maruts gone to-day on that march, on which you bring to kith and kin the never-failing seed of corn? Give us that for which we ask you, wealth and everlasting happiness! Let us safely pass through our revilers, leaving behind the unspeakable and the enemies. Let us be with you when in the morning you shower down health, wealth, water, and medicine, O Maruts! That mortal, O men, O Maruts, whom you protect, may well be always beloved by the gods, and rich in valiant offspring. May we be such! Praise the liberal Maruts, and may they delight on the path of this man here who praises them, like cows in fodder. When they go, call after them as for old friends, praise them who love you, with your song! XX You have fashioned this speech for the brilliant Marut-host which shakes the mountains: celebrate then the great manhood in honor of that host who praises the warm milk of the sacrifice, and sacrifices on the height of heaven, whose glory is brilliant. O Maruts, your powerful men came forth searching for water, invigorating, harnessing their horses, swarming around. When they aim with the lightning, Trita shouts, and the waters murmur, running around on their course. These Maruts are men brilliant with lightning, they shoot with thunderbolts, they blaze with the wind, they shake the mountains, and suddenly, when wishing to give water, they whirl the hail; they have thundering strength, they are robust, they are ever-powerful. When you drive forth the nights, O Rudras, the days, O powerful men, the sky, the mists, ye shakers, the plains, like ships, and the strongholds, O Maruts, you suffer nowhere. That strength of yours, O Maruts, that greatness extended as far as the sun extends its daily course, when you, like your deer on their march, went down to the western mountain with untouched splendor. Your host, O Maruts, shone forth when, O sages, you strip, like a caterpillar, the waving tree. Conduct then, O friends, our service to a good end, as the eye conducts the man in walking. That man, O Maruts, is not overpowered, he is not killed, he does not fail, he does not shake, he does not drop, his goods do not perish, nor his protections, if you lead him rightly, whether he be a seer or a king. The men with their steeds, like conquerors of clans, like Aryaman, the Maruts, carrying waterskins, fill the well; when the strong ones roar, they moisten the earth with the juice of sweetness. When the Maruts come forth this earth bows, the heaven bows, the paths in the sky bow, and the cloud-mountains with their quickening rain. When you rejoice at sunrise, O Maruts, toiling together, men of sunlight, men of heaven, your horses never tire in running, and you quickly reach the end of your journey. On your shoulders are the spears, on your feet rings, on your chests golden chains, O Maruts, on your chariot gems; fiery lightnings in your fists, and golden headbands tied round your heads. O Maruts, you shake the red apple from the firmament, whose splendor no enemy can touch; the hamlets bowed when the Maruts blazed, and the pious people intoned their far-reaching shout. O wise Maruts, let us carry off the wealth of food which you have bestowed on us; give us, O Maruts, such thousandfold wealth as never fails, like the star Tishya from heaven! O Maruts, you protect our wealth of excellent men, and the seer, clever in song; you give to the warrior a strong horse, you make the king to be obeyed. O you who are quickly ready to help, I implore you for wealth whereby we may overshadow all men, like the sky. O Maruts, be pleased with this word of mine, and let us speed by its speed over a hundred winters! XXI The chasing Maruts with gleaming spears, the golden-breasted, have gained great strength, they move along on quick, well-broken horses;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. You have yourselves, you know, acquired power; you shine bright and wide, you great ones. They have even measured the sky with their strength;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. The strong heroes, born together, and nourished together, have further grown to real beauty. They shine brilliantly like the rays of the sun;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. Your greatness, O Maruts, is to be honored, it is to be yearned for like the sight of the sun. Place us also in immortality;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. O Maruts, you raise the rain from the sea, and rain it down, O yeomen! Your milch-cows, O destroyers, are never destroyed;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. When you have joined the deer as horses to the shafts, and have clothed yourselves in golden garments, then, O Maruts, you scatter all enemies;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. Not mountains, not rivers have kept you back, wherever you see, O Maruts, there you go. You go even round heaven and earth;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. Be it old, O Maruts, or be it new, be it spoken, O Vasus, or be it recited, you take cognizance of it all;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. Have mercy on us, O Maruts, do not strike us, extend to us your manifold protection. Do remember the praise, the friendship;--when they went in triumph, the chariots followed. Lead us, O Maruts, towards greater wealth, and out of tribulations, when you have been praised. O worshipful Maruts, accept our offering, and let us be lords of treasures! XXII O Agni, on to the strong host of the Maruts, bedecked with golden chains and ornaments. To-day I call the folk of the Maruts down from the light of heaven. As thou, Agni, thinkest in thine heart, to the same object my wishes have gone. Strengthen thou these Maruts, terrible to behold, who have come nearest to thy invocations. Like a bountiful lady, the earth comes towards us, staggering, yet rejoicing; for your onslaught, O Maruts, is vigorous, like a bear, and fearful, like a wild bull. They who by their strength disperse wildly like bulls, impatient of the yoke, they by their marches make the heavenly stone, the rocky mountain cloud to shake. Arise, for now I call with my hymns the troop of these Maruts, grown strong together, the manifold, the incomparable, as if calling a drove of bulls. Harness the red mares to the chariot, harness the ruddy horses to the chariots, harness the two bays, ready to drive in the yoke, most vehement to drive in the yoke. And this red stallion too, loudly neighing, has been placed here, beautiful to behold; may it not cause you delay on your marches, O Maruts; spur him forth on your chariots. We call towards us the glorious chariot of the Maruts, whereon there stands also Rodasî, carrying delightful gifts, among the Maruts. I call hither this your host, brilliant on chariots, terrible and glorious, among which she, the well-born and fortunate, the bounteous lady, is also magnified among the Maruts. XXIII O Rudras, joined by Indra, friends on golden chariots, come hither for our welfare! This prayer from us is acceptable to you like the springs of heaven to a thirsty soul longing for water. O you sons of Prisni, you are armed with daggers and spears, you are wise, carrying good bows and arrows and quivers, possessed of good horses and chariots. With your good weapons, O Maruts, you go to triumph! You shake the sky and the mountains for wealth to the liberal giver; the forests bend down out of your way from fear. O sons of Prisni, you rouse the earth when you, O terrible ones, have harnessed the spotted deer for triumph! The Maruts, blazing with the wind, clothed in rain, are as like one another as twins, and well adorned. They have tawny horses, and red horses, they are faultless, endowed with exceeding vigor; they are in greatness wide as the heaven. Rich in rain-drops, well adorned, bounteous, terrible to behold, of inexhaustible wealth, noble by birth, golden-breasted, these singers of the sky have obtained their immortal name. Spears are on your two shoulders, in your arms are placed strength, power, and might. Manly thoughts dwell in your heads, on your chariots are weapons, and every beauty has been laid on your bodies. O Maruts, you have given us wealth of cows, horses, chariots, and heroes, golden wealth! O men of Rudra, bestow on us great praise, and may I enjoy your divine protection! Hark, O heroes, O Maruts! Be gracious to us! You who are of great bounty, immortal, righteous, truly listening to us, poets, young, dwelling on mighty mountains, and grown mighty. XXIV I praise now the powerful company of these ever-young Maruts, who drive violently along with quick horses; aye, the sovereigns are lords of Amrita the immortal. The terrible company, the powerful, adorned with quoits on their hands, given to roaring, potent, dispensing treasures, they who are beneficent, infinite in greatness, praise, O poet, these men of great wealth! May your water-carriers come here to-day, all the Maruts who stir up the rain. That fire which has been lighted for you, O Maruts, accept it, O young singers! O worshipful Maruts, you create for man an active king, fashioned by Vibhvan; from you comes the man who can fight with his fist, and is quick with his arm, from you the man with good horses and valiant heroes. Like the spokes of a wheel, no one is last, like the days they are born on and on, not deficient in might. The very high sons of Prisni are full of fury, the Maruts cling firmly to their own will. When you have come forth with your speckled deer as horses on strong-fellied chariots, O Maruts, the waters gush, the forests go asunder;--let Dyu roar down, the bull of the Dawn. At their approach, even the earth opened wide, and they placed their own strength as a husband the germ. Indeed they have harnessed the winds as horses to the yoke, and the men of Rudra have changed their sweat into rain. Hark, O heroes, O Maruts! Be gracious to us! You who are of great bounty, immortal, righteous, truly listening to us, poets, young, dwelling on mighty mountains, and grown mighty. XXV They truly tried to make you grant them welfare. Do thou sing praises to Heaven, I offer sacrifice to the Earth. The Maruts wash their horses and race to the air, they soften their splendor by waving mists. The earth trembles with fear from their onset. She sways like a full ship, that goes rolling. The heroes who appear on their marches, visible from afar, strive together within the great sacrificial assembly. Your horn is exalted for glory, as the horns of cows; your eye is like the sun, when the mist is scattered. Like strong racers, you are beautiful, O heroes, you think of glory, like manly youths. Who could reach, O Maruts, the great wise thoughts, who the great manly deeds of you, great ones? You shake the earth like a speck of dust, when you are carried forth for granting welfare. These kinsmen are like red horses, like heroes eager for battle, and they have rushed forward to fight. They are like well-grown manly youths, and the men have grown strong, with streams of rain they dim the eye of the sun. At their outbreak there is none among them who is the eldest, or the youngest, or the middle: they have grown by their own might, these sons of Prisni, noble by birth, the boys of Dyaus; come hither to us! Those who like birds flew with strength in rows from the ridge of the mighty heaven to its ends, their horses shook the springs of the mountain cloud, so that people on both sides knew it. May Dyaus Aditi roar for our feast, may the dew-lighted Dawns come striving together; these, the Maruts, O poet, the sons of Rudra, have shaken the heavenly bucket cloud, when they had been praised. [Footnote 1: The Maruts are the "Storm-Gods".] [Footnote 2: The lightning.] [Footnote 3: The voice of thunder.] [Footnote 4: The dawn.] TO THE MARUTS AND INDRA The Prologue The sacrificer speaks: To what splendor do the Maruts all equally cling, they who are of the same age, and dwell in the same nest? With what thoughts?--from whence are they come? Do these heroes sing forth their own strength, wishing for wealth? Whose prayers have the youths accepted? Who has turned the Maruts to his own sacrifice? By what strong desire may we arrest them, they who float through the air like hawks? The Dialogue The Maruts speak: From whence, O Indra, dost thou come alone, thou who art mighty? O lord of men, what has thus happened to thee? Thou greetest us when thou comest together with us. Tell us then, thou with thy bay horses, what thou hast against us! Indra speaks: The sacred songs are mine, the prayers; sweet are the libations! My strength rises, my thunderbolt is hurled forth. They call for me, the hymns yearn for me. Here are my horses, they carry me hither. The Maruts speak: From thence, in company with our strong friends, having adorned our bodies, we now harness our fallow deer with all our might;--for, Indra, according to custom, thou hast come to be with us. Indra speaks: Where, O Maruts, was that custom with you, when you left me alone in the killing of Ahi? I indeed am terrible, powerful, strong,--I escaped from the blows of every enemy. The Maruts speak: Thou hast achieved much with us as companions. With equal valor, O hero! let us achieve then many things, O thou most powerful, O Indra! whatever we, O Maruts, wish with our mind. Indra speaks: I slew Vritra, O Maruts, with Indra's might, having grown powerful through my own vigor; I, who hold the thunderbolt in my arms, have made these all-brilliant waters to flow freely for man. The Maruts speak: Nothing, O mighty lord, is strong before thee: no one is known among the gods like unto thee. No one who is now born comes near, no one who has been born. Do what thou wilt do, thou who art grown so strong. Indra speaks: Almighty strength be mine alone, whatever I may do, daring in my heart; for I indeed, O Maruts, am known as terrible: of all that I threw down, I, Indra, am the lord. O Maruts, now your praise has pleased me, the glorious hymn which you have made for me, ye men!--for me, for Indra, for the joyful hero, as friends for a friend, for your own sake, and by your own efforts. Truly, there they are, shining towards me, bringing blameless glory, bringing food. O Maruts, wherever I have looked for you, you have appeared to me in bright splendor: appear to me also now! The Epilogue The sacrificer speaks: Who has magnified you here, O Maruts? Come hither, O friends, towards your friends. Ye brilliant Maruts, welcoming these prayers, be mindful of these my rites. The wisdom of Mânya has brought us hither, that he should help as the poet helps the performer of a sacrifice: turn hither quickly! Maruts, on to the sage! the singer has recited these prayers for you. May this your praise, O Maruts, this song of Mândârya, the son of Mâna, the poet, bring offspring for ourselves with food. May we have an invigorating autumn, with quickening rain. TO INDRA AND THE MARUTS Those who stand around him while he moves on, harness the bright red steed; the lights in heaven shine forth. They harness to the chariot on each side his two favorite bays, the brown, the bold, who can carry the hero. Thou who createst light where there was no light, and form, O men! where there was no form, hast been born together with the dawns. Thereupon they (the Maruts), according to their wont, assumed again the form of new-born babes, taking their sacred name. Thou, O Indra, with the swift Maruts, who break even through the stronghold, hast found even in their hiding-place the bright ones. The pious singers have, after their own mind, shouted towards the giver of wealth, the great, the glorious Indra. Mayest thou, host of the Maruts, be verily seen coming together with Indra, the fearless: you are both happy-making, and of equal splendor. With the beloved hosts of Indra, with the blameless, hasting (Maruts), the sacrificer cries aloud. From yonder, O traveller, Indra, come hither, or from the light of heaven; the singers all yearn for it;--or we ask Indra for help from here, or from heaven, or from above the earth, or from the great sky. TO AGNI[5] AND THE MARUTS Thou art called forth to this fair sacrifice for a draught of milk; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! No god indeed, no mortal, is beyond the might of thee, the mighty one; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! They who know of the great sky, the Visve Devas without guile; with those Maruts come hither, O Agni! The strong ones who sing their song, unconquerable by force; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! They who are brilliant, of terrible designs, powerful, and devourers of foes; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! They who in heaven are enthroned as gods, in the light of the firmament; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! They who toss the clouds across the surging sea; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! They who shoot with their darts across the sea with might; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! I pour out to thee for the early draught the sweet juice of Soma; with the Maruts come hither, O Agni! [Footnote 5: Agni is the "God of Fire."] TO RUDRA[6] We offer these prayers to Rudra, the strong, whose hair is braided, who rules over heroes that he may be a blessing to man and beast, that everything in this our village may be prosperous and free from disease. Be gracious to us, O Rudra, and give us joy, and we shall honor thee, the ruler of heroes, with worship. What health and wealth father Manu acquired by his sacrifices, may we obtain the same, O Rudra, under thy guidance. O bounteous Rudra, may we by sacrifice obtain the good-will of thee, the ruler of heroes; come to our clans, well-disposed, and, with unarmed men, we shall offer our libation to thee. We call down for our help the fierce Rudra, who fulfils our sacrifice, the swift, the wise; may he drive far away from us the anger of the gods; we desire his good-will only. We call down with worship the red boar of the sky, the god with braided hair, the blazing form; may he who carries in his hand the best medicines grant us protection, shield, and shelter! This speech is spoken for the father of the Maruts, sweeter than sweet, a joy to Rudra; grant to us also, O immortal, the food of mortals, be gracious to us and to our kith and kin! Do not slay our great or our small ones, our growing or our grown ones, our father or our mother, and do not hurt our own bodies, O Rudra! O Rudra, hurt us not in our kith and kin, nor in our own life, not in our cows, nor in our horses! Do not slay our men in thy wrath: carrying libations, we call on thee always. Like a shepherd, I have driven these praises near to thee; O father of the Maruts, grant us thy favor! For thy good-will is auspicious, and most gracious, hence we desire thy protection alone. Let thy cow-slaying and thy man-slaying be far away, and let thy favor be with us, O ruler of heroes! Be gracious to us, and bless us, O god, and then give us twofold protection. We have uttered our supplication to him, desiring his help; may Rudra with the Maruts hear our call. May Mitra, Varuna, Aditi, the River, Earth, and the Sky, grant us this! [Footnote 6: Rudra is the "Father of the Maruts."] TO RUDRA O father of the Maruts, let thy favor come near, and do not deprive us of the sight of the sun; may the hero (Rudra) be gracious to our horse, and may we increase in offspring, O Rudra! May I attain to a hundred winters through the most blissful medicines which thou hast given! Put away far from us all hatred, put away anguish, put away sickness in all directions! In beauty thou art the most beautiful of all that exists, O Rudra, the strongest of the strong, thou wielder of the thunderbolt! Carry us happily to the other shore of our anguish, and ward off all assaults of mischief. Let us not incense thee, O Rudra, by our worship, not by bad praise, O hero, and not by divided praise! Raise up our men by thy medicines, for I hear thou art the best of all physicians. He who is invoked by invocations and libations, may I pay off that Rudra with my hymns of praise. Let not him who is kind-hearted, who readily hears our call, the tawny, with beautiful cheeks, deliver us to this wrath! The manly hero with the Maruts has gladdened me, the suppliant, with more vigorous health. May I without mischief find shade, as if from sunshine, may I gain the favor of Rudra! O Rudra, where is thy softly stroking hand which cures and relieves? Thou, the remover of all heaven-sent mischief, wilt thou, O strong hero, bear with me? I send forth a great, great hymn of praise to the bright tawny bull. Let me reverence the fiery god with prostrations; we celebrate the flaring name of Rudra. He, the fierce god, with strong limbs, assuming many forms, the tawny Rudra, decked himself with brilliant golden ornaments. From Rudra, who is lord of this wide world, divine power will never depart. Worthily thou bearest arrows and bow, worthily, O worshipful, the golden, variegated chain; worthily thou cuttest every fiend here to pieces, for there is nothing indeed stronger than thou, O Rudra. Praise him, the famous, sitting in his chariot, the youthful, who is fierce and attacks like a terrible lion. And when thou hast been praised, O Rudra, be gracious to him who magnifies thee, and let thy armies mow down others than us! O Rudra, a boy indeed makes obeisance to his father who comes to greet him: I praise the lord of brave men, the giver of many gifts, and thou, when thou hast been praised, wilt give us thy medicines. O Maruts, those pure medicines of yours, the most beneficent and delightful, O heroes, those which Manu, our father, chose, those I crave from Rudra, as health and wealth. May the weapon of Rudra avoid us, may the great anger of the flaring one pass us by. Unstring thy strong bows for the sake of our liberal lords, O bounteous Rudra, be gracious to our kith and kin. Thus, O tawny and manly god, showing thyself, so as neither to be angry nor to kill, be mindful of our invocations, and, rich in brave sons, we shall magnify thee in the congregation. TO AGNI AND THE MARUTS I implore Agni, the gracious, with salutations, may he sit down here, and gather what we have made. I offer him sacrifice as with racing chariots; may I, turning to the right, accomplish this hymn to the Maruts. Those who approached on their glorious deer, on their easy chariots, the Rudras, the Maruts--through fear of you, ye terrible ones, the forests even bend down, the earth shakes, and also the mountain cloud. At your shouting, even the mountain cloud, grown large, fears, and the ridge of heaven trembles. When you play together, O Maruts, armed with spears, you run together like waters. Like rich suitors the Maruts have themselves adorned their bodies with golden ornaments; more glorious for glory, and powerful on their chariots, they have brought together splendors on their bodies. As brothers, no one being the eldest or the youngest, they have grown up together to happiness. Young is their clever father Rudra, flowing with plenty is Prisni, always kind to the Maruts. O happy Maruts, whether you are in the highest, or in the middle, or in the lowest heaven, from thence, O Rudras, or thou also, O Agni, take notice of this libation which we offer. When Agni, and you, wealthy Maruts, drive down from the higher heaven over the ridges, give then, if pleased, you roarers, O destroyers of enemies, wealth to the sacrificer who prepares Soma-juice. Agni, be pleased to drink Soma with the brilliant Maruts, the singers, approaching in companies, with the men, who brighten and enliven everything; do this, Agni, thou who art always endowed with splendor. TO VÂYU Come hither, O Vâyu, thou beautiful one! These Somas are ready, drink of them, hear our call! O Vâyu, the praisers celebrate thee with hymns, they who know the feast-days, and have prepared the Soma. O Vâyu, thy satisfying stream goes to the worshipper, wide-reaching, to the Soma-draught. O Indra and Vâyu, these libations of Soma are poured out; come hither for the sake of our offerings, for the drops of Soma long for you. O Indra and Vâyu, you perceive the libations, you who are rich in booty; come then quickly hither! O Vâyu and Indra, come near to the work of the sacrificer, quick, thus is my prayer, O ye men! I call Mitra, endowed with holy strength, and Varuna, who destroys all enemies; who both fulfil a prayer accompanied by fat offerings. On the right way, O Mitra and Varuna, you have obtained great wisdom, you who increase the right and adhere to the right; These two sages, Mitra and Varuna, the mighty, wide-ruling, give us efficient strength. TO VÂYU O Vâyu, may the quick racers bring thee towards the offerings, to the early drink here, to the early drink of Soma! May the Dawn stand erect, approving thy mind! Come near on thy harnessed chariot to share, O Vâyu, to share in the sacrifice! May the delightful drops of Soma delight thee, the drops made by us, well-made, and heaven-directed, yes, made with milk, and heaven-directed. When his performed aids assume strength for achievement, our prayers implore the assembled steeds for gifts, yes, the prayers implore them. Vâyu yokes the two ruddy, Vâyu yokes the two red horses, Vâyu yokes to the chariot the two swift horses to draw in the yoke, the strongest to draw in the yoke. Awake Purandhi (the morning) as a lover wakes a sleeping maid, reveal heaven and earth, brighten the dawn, yes, for glory brighten the dawn. For thee the bright dawns spread out in the distance beautiful garments, in their houses, in their rays, beautiful in their new rays. To thee the juice-yielding cow pours out all treasures. Thou hast brought forth the Maruts from the flanks, yes, from the flanks of heaven. For thee the white, bright, rushing Somas, strong in raptures, have rushed to the whirl, they have rushed to the whirl of the waters. The tired hunter asks luck of thee in the chase; thou shieldest by thy power from every being, yes, thou shieldest by thy power from powerful spirits. Thou, O Vâyu, art worthy as the first before all others to drink these our Somas, thou art worthy to drink these poured-out Somas. Among the people also who invoke thee and have turned to thee, all the cows pour out the milk, they pour out butter and milk for the Soma. INDRA AND AGASTYA[7]: A DIALOGUE Indra: There is no such thing to-day, nor will it be so to-morrow. Who knows what strange thing this is? We must consult the thought of another, for even what we once knew seems to vanish. Agastya: Why dost thou wish to kill us, O Indra? the Maruts are thy brothers; fare kindly with them, and do not strike us in battle. The Maruts: O Brother Agastya, why, being a friend, dost thou despise us? We know quite well what thy mind was. Dost thou not wish to give to us? Agastya: Let them prepare the altar, let them light the fire in front! Here we two will spread for thee the sacrifice, to be seen by the immortal. Agastya: Thou rulest, O lord of treasures; thou, lord of friends, art the most generous. Indra, speak again with the Maruts, and then consume our offerings at the right season. [Footnote 7: Agastya is a worshipper of Indra.] TO SOMA AND RUDRA Soma and Rudra, may you maintain your divine dominion, and may the oblations reach you properly. Bringing the seven treasures to every house, be kind to our children and our cattle. Soma and Rudra, draw far away in every direction the disease which has entered our house. Drive far away Nirriti, and may auspicious glories belong to us! Soma and Rudra, bestow all these remedies on our bodies. Tear away and remove from us whatever evil we have committed, which clings to our bodies. Soma and Rudra, wielding sharp weapons and sharp bolts, kind friends, be gracious unto us here! Deliver us from the snare of Varuna, and guard us, as kind-hearted gods! TO RUDRA Offer ye these songs to Rudra whose bow is strong, whose arrows are swift, the self-dependent god, the unconquered conqueror, the intelligent, whose weapons are sharp--may he hear us! For, being the lord, he looks after what is born on earth; being the universal ruler, he looks after what is born in heaven. Protecting us, come to our protecting doors, be without illness among our people, O Rudra! May that thunderbolt of thine, which, sent from heaven, traverses the earth, pass us by! A thousand medicines are thine, O thou who art freely accessible; do not hurt us through our kith and kin! Do not strike us, O Rudra, do not forsake us! May we not be in thy way when thou rushest forth furiously. Let us have our altar and a good report among men--protect us always with your favors! TO VÂTA Now for the greatness of the chariot of Vâta. Its roar goes crashing and thundering. It moves touching the sky, and creating red sheens, or it goes scattering the dust of the earth. Afterwards there rise the gusts of Vâta, they go towards him, like women to a feast. The god goes with them on the same chariot, he, the king of the whole of this world. When he moves on his paths along the sky, he rests not even a single day; the friend of the waters, the first-born, the holy, where was he born, whence did he spring? The breath of the gods, the germ of the world, that god moves wherever he listeth; his roars indeed are heard, not his form--let us offer sacrifice to that Vâta! TO VÂTA May Vâta waft medicine, healthful, delightful to our heart; may he prolong our lives! Thou, O Vâta, art our father, and our brother, and our friend; do thou grant us to live! O Vâta, from that treasure of the immortal which is placed in thy house yonder, give us to live! I I magnify Agni, the Purohita, the divine ministrant of the sacrifice, the Hotri priest, the greatest bestower of treasures. Agni, worthy to be magnified by the ancient Rishis and by the present ones--may he conduct the gods hither. May one obtain through Agni wealth and welfare day by day, which may bring glory and high bliss of valiant offspring. Agni, whatever sacrifice and worship thou encompassest on every side, that indeed goes to the gods. May Agni the thoughtful Hotri, he who is true and most splendidly renowned, may the god come hither with the gods. Whatever good thou wilt do to thy worshipper, O Agni, that work verily is thine, O Angiras. Thee, O Agni, we approach day by day, O god who shinest in the darkness; with our prayer, bringing adoration to thee who art the king of all worship, the guardian of Rita, the shining one, increasing in thy own house. Thus, O Agni, be easy of access to us, as a father is to his son. Stay with us for our happiness. II We implore with well-spoken words the vigorous Agni who belongs to many people, to the clans that worship the gods, whom other people also magnify. Men have placed Agni on the altar as the augmenter of strength. May we worship thee, rich in sacrificial food. Thus be thou here to-day gracious to us, a helper in our striving for gain, O good one! We choose thee, the all-possessor, as our messenger and as our Hotri. The flames of thee, who art great, spread around; thy rays touch the heaven. The gods, Varuna, Mitra, Aryaman, kindle thee, the ancient messenger. The mortal, O Agni, who worships thee, gains through thee every prize. Thou art the cheerful Hotri and householder, O Agni, the messenger of the clans. In thee all the firm laws are comprised which the gods have made. In thee, the blessed one, O Agni, youngest god, all sacrificial food is offered. Sacrifice then thou who art gracious to us to-day and afterwards, to the gods that we may be rich in valiant men. Him, the king, verily the adorers approach reverentially. With oblations men kindle Agni, having overcome all failures. Destroying the foe, they victoriously got through Heaven and Earth and the waters; they have made wide room for their dwelling. May the manly Agni, after he has received the oblations, become brilliant at the side of Kanva; may he neigh as a horse in battles. Take thy seat; thou art great. Shine forth, thou who most excellently repairest to the gods. O Agni, holy god, emit thy red, beautiful smoke, O glorious one! Thou whom the gods have placed here for Manu as the best performer of the sacrifice, O carrier of oblations, whom Kanva and Medhyâtithi, whom Vrishan and Upastuta have worshipped, the winner of prizes. That Agni's nourishment has shone brightly whom Medhyâtithi and Kanva have kindled on behalf of Rita. Him do these hymns, him do we extol. Fill us with wealth, thou self-dependent one, for thou, O Agni, hast companionship with the gods. Thou art lord over glorious booty. Have mercy upon us; thou art great. Stand up straight for blessing us, like the god Savitri, straight a winner of booty, when we with our worshippers and with ointments call thee in emulation with other people. Standing straight, protect us by thy splendor from evil; burn down every ghoul. Let us stand straight that we may walk and live. Find out our worship among the gods. Save us, O Agni, from the sorcerer, save us from mischief, from the niggard. Save us from him who does us harm or tries to kill us, O youngest god with bright splendor! As with a club smite the niggards in all directions, and him who deceives us, O god with fiery jaws. The mortal who makes his weapons very sharp by night, may that impostor not rule over us. Agni has won abundance in heroes. Agni and the two Mitras have blessed Medhyâtithi. Agni has blessed Upastuta in the acquirement of wealth. Through Agni we call hither from afar Turvasa, Yadu, and Ugradeva. May Agni, our strength against the Dasyu, conduct hither Navavâstva, Brihadratha, and Turvîti. Manu has established thee, O Agni, as a light for all people. Thou hast shone forth with Kanva, born from Rita, grown strong, thou whom the human races worship. Agni's flames are impetuous and violent; they are terrible and not to be withstood. Always burn down the sorcerers, and the allies of the Yâtus, every ghoul. III We choose Agni as our messenger, the all-possessor, as the Hotri of this sacrifice, the highly wise. Agni and Agni! again they constantly invoked with their invocations, the lord of the clans, the bearer of oblations, the beloved of many. Agni, when born, conduct the gods hither for him who has strewn the sacrificial grass; thou art our Hotri, worthy of being magnified. Awaken them, the willing ones, when thou goest as messenger, O Agni. Sit down with the gods on the Barhis. O thou to whom Ghrita oblations are poured out, resplendent god, burn against the mischievous, O Agni, against the sorcerers. By Agni Agni is kindled, the sage, the master of the house, the young one, the bearer of oblations, whose mouth is the sacrificial spoon. Praise Agni the sage, whose ordinances for the sacrifice are true, the god who drives away sickness. Be the protector, O Agni, of a master of sacrificial food who worships thee, O god, as his messenger. Be merciful, O purifier, unto the man who is rich in sacrificial food, and who invites Agni to the feast of the gods. Thus, O Agni, resplendent purifier, conduct the gods hither to us, to our sacrifice and to our food. Thus praised by us with our new Gâyatra hymn, bring us wealth of valiant men and food. Agni with thy bright splendor be pleased, through all our invocations of the gods, with this our praise. IV With reverence I shall worship thee who art long-tailed like a horse, Agni, king of worship. May he, our son of strength, proceeding on his broad way, the propitious, become bountiful to us. Thus protect us always, thou who hast a full life, from the mortal who seeks to do us harm, whether near or afar. And mayest thou, O Agni, announce to the gods this our newest efficient Gâyatra song. Let us partake of all booty that is highest and that is middle; help us to the wealth that is nearest. O god with bright splendor, thou art the distributor. Thou instantly flowest for the liberal giver in the wave of the river, near at hand. The mortal, O Agni, whom thou protectest in battles, whom thou speedest in the races, he will command constant nourishment: Whosoever he may be, no one will overtake him, O conqueror Agni! His strength is glorious. May he, known among all tribes, win the race with his horses; may he with the help of his priests become a gainer. O Garâbodha! Accomplish this task for every house: a beautiful song of praise for worshipful Rudra. May he, the great, the immeasurable, the smoke-bannered, rich in splendor, incite us to pious thoughts and to strength. May he hear us, like the rich lord of a clan, the banner of the gods, on behalf of our hymns, Agni with bright light. Reverence to the great ones, reverence to the lesser ones! Reverence to the young, reverence to the old! Let us sacrifice to the gods, if we can. May I not, O gods, fall as a victim to the curse of my better. V I press on for you with my prayer to the all-possessing messenger, the immortal bearer of offerings, the best sacrificer. He, the great one, knows indeed the place of wealth, the ascent to heaven; may he conduct the gods hither. He, the god, knows how to direct the gods for the righteous worshipper, in his house. He gives us wealth dear to us. He is the Hotri; he who knows the office of a messenger, goes to and fro, knowing the ascent to heaven. May we be of those who have worshipped Agni with the gift of offerings, who cause him to thrive and kindle him. The men who have brought worship to Agni, are renowned as successful by wealth and by powerful offspring. May much-desired wealth come to us day by day; may gains arise among us. He, the priest of the tribes, the priest of men, pierces all hostile powers by his might as with a tossing bow. VI He has brought down the wisdom of many a worshipper, he who holds in his hand all manly power. Agni has become the lord of treasures, he who brought together all powers of immortality. All the clever immortals when seeking did not find the calf though sojourning round about us. The attentive gods, wearying themselves, following his footsteps, stood at the highest, beautiful standing-place of Agni. When the bright ones had done service to thee, the bright one, Agni, with Ghrita through three autumns, they assumed worshipful names; the well-born shaped their own bodies. Acquiring for themselves the two great worlds, the worshipful ones brought forward their Rudra-like powers. The mortal, when beings were in discord, perceived and found out Agni standing in the highest place. Being like-minded they reverentially approached him on their knees. Together with their wives they venerated the venerable one. Abandoning their bodies they made them their own, the one friend waking when the other friend closed his eyes. When the worshipful gods have discovered the thrice seven secret steps laid down in thee, they concordantly guard with them immortality. Protect thou the cattle and that which remains steadfast and that which moves. Knowing, O Agni, the established orders of human dwellings, distribute in due order gifts that they may live. Knowing the ways which the gods do, thou hast become the unwearied messenger, the bearer of oblations. They who knew the right way and were filled with good intentions, beheld from heaven the seven young rivers and the doors of riches. Saramâ found the strong stable of the cows from which human clans receive their nourishment. The Earth has spread herself far and wide with them who are great in their greatness, the mother Aditi, for the refreshment of the bird, with her sons who have assumed all powers of their own dominion, preparing for themselves the way to immortality. When the immortals created the two eyes of heaven, they placed fair splendor in him. Then they rush down like streams let loose. The red ones have recognized, O Agni, those which are directed downwards. VII Forward goes your strength tending heavenward, rich in offerings, with the ladle full of ghee. To the gods goes the worshipper desirous of their favor. I magnify with prayer Agni who has knowledge of prayers, the accomplisher of sacrifice, who hears us, and in whom manifold wealth has been laid down. O Agni, may we be able to bridle thee the strong god; may we overcome all hostile powers. Agni, inflamed at the sacrifice, the purifier who should be magnified, whose hair is flame--him we approach with prayers. With his broad stream of light the immortal Agni, clothed in ghee, well served with oblations, is the carrier of offerings at the sacrifice. Holding the sacrificial ladles, performing the sacrifice they have with right thought, pressingly brought Agni hither for help. The Hotri, the immortal god goes in front with his secret power, instigating the sacrifices. The strong is set at the races. He is led forth at the sacrifices, the priest, the accomplisher of sacrifice. He has been produced by prayer, the excellent one. I have established him, the germ of beings, forever the father of Daksha. I have laid thee down, the excellent one, with the nourishment of Daksha, O thou who art produced by power, O Agni, thee the resplendent one, O Usig. The priests, eager to set to work the Rita, kindle with quick strength Agni the governor, him who crosses the waters. I magnify the child of vigor at this sacrifice, who shines under the heaven, the thoughtful Agni. He who should be magnified and adored, who is visible through the darkness, Agni, the manly, is kindled. Agni, the manly, is kindled, he who draws hither the gods like a horse. The worshippers rich in offerings magnify him. We the manly ones will kindle thee the manly god, O manly Agni, who shinest mightily. VIII Produce thy stream of flames like a broad onslaught. Go forth impetuous like a king with his elephant, thou art an archer; shoot the sorcerers with thy hottest arrows. Thy whirls fly quickly. Fiercely flaming touch them. O Agni, send forth with the ladle thy heat, thy winged flames; send forth unfettered thy firebrands all around. Being the quickest, send forth thy spies against all evildoers. Be an undeceivable guardian of this clan. He who attacks us with evil spells, far or near, may no such foe defy thy track. Rise up, O Agni! Spread out against all foes! Burn down the foes, O god with the sharp weapon! When kindled, O Agni, burn down like dry brushwood, the man who exercises malice against us. Stand upright, strike the foes away from us! Make manifest thy divine powers, O Agni! Unbend the strong bows of those who incite demons against us. Crush all enemies, be they relations or strangers. He knows thy favor, O youngest one, who makes a way for a sacred speech like this. Mayest thou beam forth to his doors all auspicious days and the wealth and the splendor of the niggard. Let him, O Agni, be fortunate and blessed with good rain, who longs to gladden thee with constant offerings and hymns through his life in his house. May such longing ever bring auspicious days to him. I praise thy favor; it resounded here. May this song, which is like a favorite wife, awaken for thee. Let us brighten thee, being rich in horses and chariots. Mayest thou maintain our knightly power day by day. May the worshipper here frequently of his own accord approach thee, O god who shinest in darkness, resplendent day by day. Let us worship thee sporting and joyous, surpassing the splendor of other people. Whoever, rich in horses and rich in gold, approaches thee, O Agni, with his chariot full of wealth--thou art the protector and the friend of him who always delights in showing thee hospitality. Through my kinship with thee I break down the great foes by my words. That kinship has come down to me from my father Gotama. Be thou attentive to this our word, O youngest, highly wise Hotri, as the friend of our house. May those guardians of thine, infallible Agni, sitting down together protect us, the never sleeping, onward-pressing, kind, unwearied ones, who keep off the wolf, who never tire. Thy guardians, O Agni, who seeing have saved the blind son of Mamatâ from distress--He the possessor of all wealth has saved them who have done good deeds. The impostors, though trying to deceive, could not deceive. In thy companionship we dwell, protected by thee. Under thy guidance let us acquire gain. Accomplish both praises, O thou who art the truth! Do so by thy present power, O fearless one! May we worship thee, O Agni, with this log of wood. Accept the hymn of praise which we recite. Burn down those who curse us, the sorcerers. Protect us, O god who art great like Mitra, from guile, from revilement, and from disgrace. IX Bright, flaming, like the lover of the Dawn,[8] he has, like the light of the sky, filled the two worlds of Heaven and Earth which are turned towards each other. As soon as thou wert born thou hast excelled by thy power of mind; being the son of the gods thou hast become their father. Agni is a worshipper of the gods, never foolish, always discriminating; he is like the udder of the cows; he is the sweetness of food. Like a kind friend to men, not to be led astray, sitting in the midst, the lovely one, in the house; like a child when born, he is delightful in the house; like a race-horse which is well cared for, he has wandered across the clans. When I call to the sacrifice the clans who dwell in the same nest with the heroes, may Agni then attain all divine powers. When thou hast listened to these heroes, no one breaks those laws of thine. That verily is thy wonderful deed that thou hast killed, with thy companions, all foes; that, joined by the heroes, thou hast accomplished thy works. Like the lover of the Dawn, resplendent and bright, of familiar form: may he thus pay attention to this sacrificer. Carrying him they opened by themselves the doors of heaven. They all shouted at the aspect of the sun. X Like unto excellent wealth, like unto the shine of the sun, like unto living breath, like unto one's own son, like unto a quick takvan Agni holds the wood, like milk, like a milch cow, bright and shining. He holds safety, pleasant like a homestead, like ripe barley, a conqueror of men; like a Rishi uttering sacred shouts, praised among the clans; like a well-cared-for race-horse, Agni bestows vigor. He to whose flame men do not grow accustomed, who is like one's own mind, like a wife on a couch, enough for all happiness. When the bright Agni has shone forth, he is like a white horse among people, like a chariot with golden ornaments, impetuous in fights. Like an army which is sent forward he shows his vehemence, like an archer's shaft with sharp point. He who is born is one twin; he who will be born is the other twin--the lover of maidens, the husband of wives. As cows go to their stalls, all that moves and we, for the sake of a dwelling, reach him who has been kindled. Like the flood of the Sindhu he has driven forward the downward-flowing waters. The cows lowed at the sight of the sun. XI The Hotri goes forward in order to fulfil his duty by his wonderful power, directing upwards the brightly adorned prayer. He steps towards the sacrificial ladles which are turned to the right, and which first kiss his foundation. They have greeted with shouts the streams of Rita which were hidden at the birthplace of the god, at his seat. When He dwelt dispersed in the lap of the waters, he drank the draughts by the power of which he moves. Two beings of the same age try to draw that wonderful shape towards themselves, progressing in turns towards a common aim. Then he is to be proclaimed by us like a winner in a contest. The charioteer governs all things as if pulling in the reins of a draught-horse. He whom two beings of the same age serve, two twins dwelling together in one common abode, the gray one has been born as a youth by night as by day, the ageless one who wanders through many generations of men. The prayers, the ten fingers stir him up. We, the mortals, call him, the god, for his protection. From the dry land he hastens to the declivities. With those who approached him he has established new rules. Thou indeed, O Agni, reignest by thy own nature over the heavenly and over the terrestrial world as a shepherd takes care of his cattle. These two variegated, great goddesses striving for gloriousness, the golden ones who move crookedly, have approached thy sacrificial grass. Agni! Be gratified and accept graciously this prayer, O joy-giver, independent one, who art born in the Rita, good-willed one, whose face is turned towards us from all sides, conspicuous one, gay in thy aspect, like a dwelling-place rich in food. [Footnote 8: The sun.] SELECTIONS FROM THE ZEND-AVESTA Translation by James Darmestetter INTRODUCTION The study of religion, like the study of poetry, brings us face to face with the fundamental principles of human nature. Religion, whether it be natural religion or that which is formulated in a book, is as universal as poetry, and like poetry, existed before letters and writing. It is only in a serious and sympathetic frame of mind that we should approach the rudest forms of these two departments of human activity. A general analysis of the "Zend-Avesta" suggests to us the mind of the Persian sage Zarathustra, or Zoroaster, fixed upon the phenomena of nature and life, and trying to give a systematized account of them. He sees good and evil, life and death, sickness and health, right and wrong, engaged in almost equal conflict. He sees in the sun the origin of light and heat, the source of comfort and life to man. Thus he institutes the doctrine of Dualism and the worship of Fire. The evil things that come unexpectedly and irresistibly, he attributes to the Devas: the help and comfort that man needs and often obtains by means which are beyond his control, he attributes to the "Holy Immortal Ones," who stand around the Presence of Ormuzd. As he watches the purity of the flame, of the limpid stream, and of the sweet smelling ground, he connects it with the moral purity which springs from innocence and rectitude, and in his code it is as reprehensible to pollute the fire by burning the dead, or the stream by committing the corpse to its waves, or the earth by making it a burial-place, as it is to cheat or lie or commit an act of violence. The wonders of Nature furnish abundant imagery for his hymns or his litanies, and he relies for his cosmogony on the faint traditions of the past gathered from whatever nation, and reduced into conformity with his Dualistic creed. "Zend-Avesta" is the religious book of the Persians who professed the creed of Zarathustra, known in classic and modern times as Zoroaster. Zoroaster is to be classed with such great religious leaders as Buddha and Mohammed. He was the predecessor of Mohammed and the worship and belief which he instituted were trampled out in Persia by the forces of Islam in the seventh century of our era. The Persian Zoroastrians fled to India, where they are still found as Parsis on the west coast of Hindostan. The religion of Zoroaster was a Dualism. Two powerful and creative beings, the one good the one evil, have control of the universe. Thus, in the account of the creation, the two deities are said to have equal though opposite share in the work. This is indicated by the following passage-- The third of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda (Ormuzd) created, was the strong, holy Môuru (Merv). Thereupon came Angra Mainyu (Ahriman), who is all death, and he counter-created plunder and sin. This constant struggle of the two divinities with their armies of good and bad spirits formed the background of Zoroastrian supernaturalism. The worship of the Persians was the worship of the powers of Nature, and especially of fire, although water, earth, and air, are also addressed in the litanies of the "Zend-Avesta." The down-falling water and the uprising mist are thus spoken of in one passage:-- As the sea (Vouru-kasha) is the gathering place of the waters, rising up and going down, up the aërial way and down the earth, down the earth and up the aërial way: thus rise up and roll along! thou in whose rising and growing Ahura Mazda made the aërial way. The sun is also invoked:-- Up! rise up and roll along! thou swift-horsed Sun, above Hara Berezaiti, and produce light for the world. The earth was considered to be polluted by the burial of the dead, who are to be exposed in high places to be devoured by the birds of the air and swept away by the streams into which the rain should wash their remains. But the principal subjects of Zoroaster's teaching was the struggle between Ormuzd and Ahriman and their hosts "The Holy Immortal Ones" and the Devas, or evil spirits. This is the basis of all the activities of the world and, according to Zoroaster, is to result in a triumph of the good. Zoroaster taught that the life of man has two parts, that on earth and that beyond the grave. After his earthly life each one should be punished or rewarded according to his deeds. The "Zend-Avesta" cannot be dated earlier than the first century before our era. It consists of four books, of which the chief one is the Vendîdâd; the other three are the liturgical and devotional works, consisting of hymns, litanies, and songs of praise, addressed to the Deities and angels of Goodness. The Vendîdâd contains an account of the creation and counter-creation of Ormuzd and Ahriman, the author of the good things and of the evil things in the world. After this follows what we may call a history of the beginnings of civilization under Yima, the Persian Noah. The revelation is described as being made directly to Zoroaster, who, like Moses, talked with God. Thus, in the second fargard, or chapter, we read:-- Zarathustra (Zoroaster) asked Ahura Mazda (Ormuzd):-- "O Ahura Mazda (Ormuzd), most beneficent Spirit, Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who was the first mortal, before myself, Zarathustra, with whom thou, Ahura Mazda, didst converse, whom thou didst teach the religion of Ahura, the Religion of Zarathustra?" Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The fair Yima, the good shepherd, O holy Zarathustra! he was the first mortal before thee, Zarathustra, with whom I, Ahura Mazda, did converse, whom I taught the Religion of Ahura, the Religion of Zarathustra. Unto him, O Zarathustra, I, Ahura Mazda, spake, saying: 'Well, fair Yima, son of Vîvanghat, be thou the Preacher and the bearer of my Religion!' And the fair Yima, O Zarathustra, replied unto me, saying: 'I was not born, I was not taught to be the preacher and the bearer of thy Religion.'" The rest of the Vendîdâd is taken up with the praises of agriculture, injunctions as to the care and pity due to the dog, the guardian of the home and flock, the hunter and the scavenger. It includes an elaborate code of ceremonial purification, resembling on this point the Leviticus of the Bible, and it prescribes also the gradations of penance for sins of various degrees of heinousness. E.W. DISCOVERY OF THE ZEND-AVESTA The "Zend-Avesta" is the sacred book of the Parsis; that is to say, of the few remaining followers of that religion which reigned over Persia at the time when the second successor of Mohammed overthrew the Sassanian dynasty (A.D. 642), and which has been called Dualism, or Mazdeism, or Magism, or Zoroastrianism, or Fire-worship, according as its main tenet, or its supreme God, or its priests, or its supposed founder, or its apparent object of worship has been most kept in view. In less than a century after their defeat, most of the conquered people were brought over to the faith of their new rulers, either by force, or policy, or the attractive power of a simpler form of creed. But many of those who clung to the faith of their fathers, went and sought abroad for a new home, where they might freely worship their old gods, say their old prayers, and perform their old rites. That home they found at last among the tolerant Hindoos, on the western coast of India and in the peninsula of Guzerat. There they throve and there they live still, while the ranks of their co-religionists in Persia are daily thinning and dwindling away.[9] As the Parsis are the ruins of a people, so are their sacred books the ruins of a religion. There has been no other great belief in the world that ever left such poor and meagre monuments of its past splendor. Yet great is the value which that small book, the "Avesta," and the belief of that scanty people, the Parsis, have in the eyes of the historian and theologian, as they present to us the last reflex of the ideas which prevailed in Iran during the five centuries which preceded and the seven which followed the birth of Christ, a period which gave to the world the Gospels, the Talmud, and the Qur'ân. Persia, it is known, had much influence on each of the movements which produced, or proceeded from, those three books; she lent much to the first heresiarchs, much to the Rabbis, much to Mohammed. By help of the Parsi religion and the "Avesta," we are enabled to go back to the very heart of that most momentous period in the history of religious thought, which saw the blending of the Aryan mind with the Semitic, and thus opened the second stage of Aryan thought. Inquiries into the religion of ancient Persia began long ago, and it was the old enemy of Persia, the Greek, who first studied it. Aristotle, Hermippus, and many others wrote of it in books of which, unfortunately, nothing more than a few fragments or merely the titles have come down to us. We find much valuable information about it, scattered in the accounts of historians and travellers, extending over ten centuries, from Herodotos down to Agathias and Procopius (from B.C. 450 to A.D. 550). The clearest and most faithful account of the Dualist doctrine is found in the treatise _De Iside et Osiride_, ascribed to Plutarch. But Zoroastrianism was never more eagerly studied than in the first centuries of the Christian era, though without anything of the disinterested and almost scientific curiosity of the earlier times. Religious and philosophic sects, in search of new dogmas, eagerly received whatever came to them bearing the name of Zoroaster. As Xanthos the Lydian, who is said to have lived before Herodotos, had mentioned Zoroastrianism, there came to light, in those later times, scores of oracles, styled "Oracula Chaldaïca sive Magica," the work of Neo-Platonists who were but very remote disciples of the Median sage. As his name had become the very emblem of wisdom, they would cover with it the latest inventions of their ever-deepening theosophy. Zoroaster and Plato were treated as if they had been philosophers of the same school, and Hierocles expounded their doctrines in the same book. Proclus collected seventy Tetrads of Zoroaster and wrote commentaries on them; but we need hardly say that Zoroaster commented on by Proclus was nothing more or less than Proclus commented on by himself. Prodicus, the Gnostic, possessed secret books of Zoroaster; and, upon the whole, it may be said that in the first centuries of Christianity, the religion of Persia was more studied and less understood than it had ever been before. The real object aimed at, in studying the old religion, was to form a new one. Throughout the Middle Ages nothing was known of Mazdeism but the name of its founder, who from a Magus was converted into a magician and master of the hidden sciences. It was not until the Renaissance that real inquiry was resumed. The first step was to collect all the information that could be gathered from Greek and Roman writers. That task was undertaken and successfully completed by Barnabé Brisson. A nearer approach to the original source was made in the following century by Italian, English, and French travellers in Asia. Pietro della Valle, Henry Lord, Mandelslo, Ovington, Chardin, Gabriel du Chinon, and Tavernier, found Zoroaster's last followers in Persia and India, and made known their existence, their manners, and the main features of their belief to Europe. Gabriel du Chinon saw their books and recognized that they were not all written in the same language, their original holy writ being no longer understood except by means of translations and commentaries in another tongue. In the year 1700, a professor at Oxford, Thomas Hyde, the greatest Orientalist of his time in Europe, made the first systematic attempt to restore the history of the old Persian religion by combining the accounts of the Mohammedan writers with "the true and genuine monuments of ancient Persia." Unfortunately the so-called genuine monuments of ancient Persia were nothing more than recent Persian compilations or refacimenti. But notwithstanding this defect, which could hardly be avoided then, and a distortion of critical acumen, the book of Thomas Hyde was the first complete and true picture of modern Parsîism, and it made inquiry into its history the order of the day. A warm appeal made by him to the zeal of travellers, to seek for and procure at any price the sacred books of the Parsis, did not remain ineffectual, and from that time scholars bethought themselves of studying Parsîism in its own home. Eighteen years later, a countryman of Hyde, George Boucher, received from the Parsis in Surat a copy of the Vendîdâd Sâda, which was brought to England in 1723 by Richard Cobbe. But the old manuscript was a sealed book, and the most that could then be made of it was to hang it by an iron chain to the wall of the Bodleian Library, as a curiosity to be shown to foreigners. A few years later, a Scotchman, named Fraser, went to Surat, with the view of obtaining from the Parsis, not only their books, but also a knowledge of their contents. He was not very successful in the first undertaking, and utterly failed in the second. In 1754 a young man, twenty years old, Anquetil Duperron, a scholar of the _École des Langues Orientales_ in Paris, happened to see a fac-simile of four leaves of the Oxford Vendîdâd, which had been sent from England, a few years before, to Etienne Fourmont, the Orientalist. He determined at once to give to France both the books of Zoroaster and the first European translation of them. Too impatient to set off to wait for a mission from the government which had been promised to him, he enlisted as a private soldier in the service of the French East India Company; he embarked at Lorient on February 24, 1755, and after three years of endless adventures and dangers through the whole breadth of Hindostan, at the very time when war was waging between France and England, he arrived at last in Surat, where he stayed among the Parsis for three years more. Here began another struggle, not less hard, but more decisive, against the same mistrust and ill-will which had disheartened Fraser; but he came out of it victorious, and prevailed at last on the Parsis to part both with their books and their knowledge. He came back to Paris on March 14, 1764, and deposited on the following day at the _Bibliothèque Royale_ the whole of the "Zend-Avesta," and copies of several traditional books. He spent ten years in studying the material he had collected, and published in 1771 the first European translation of the "Zend-Avesta." A violent dispute broke out at once, as half the learned world denied the authenticity of this "Avesta," which it pronounced a forgery. It was the future founder of the Royal Asiatic Society, William Jones, a young Oxonian then, who opened the war. He had been wounded to the quick by the scornful tone adopted by Anquetil towards Hyde and a few other English scholars: the "Zend-Avesta" suffered for the fault of its introducer, Zoroaster for Anquetil. In a pamphlet written in French, with a _verve_ and in a style which showed him to be a good disciple of Voltaire, William Jones pointed out, and dwelt upon, the oddities and absurdities with which the so-called sacred books of Zoroaster teemed. It is true that Anquetil had given full scope to satire by the style he had adopted: he cared very little for literary elegance, and did not mind writing Zend and Persian in French; so the new and strange ideas he had to express looked stranger still in the outlandish garb he gave them. Yet it was less the style than the ideas that shocked the contemporary of Voltaire. His main argument was that books, full of such silly tales, of laws and rules so absurd, of descriptions of gods and demons so grotesque, could not be the work of a sage like Zoroaster, nor the code of a religion so much celebrated for its simplicity, wisdom, and purity. His conclusion was that the "Avesta" was a rhapsody of some modern Guebre. In fact, the only thing in which Jones succeeded was to prove in a decisive manner that the ancient Persians were not equal to the _lumières_ of the eighteenth century, and that the authors of the "Avesta" had not read the "Encyclopédie." Jones's censure was echoed in England by Sir John Chardin and Richardson, in Germany by Meiners. Richardson tried to give a scientific character to the attacks of Jones by founding them on philological grounds. That the "Avesta" was a fabrication of modern times was shown, he argued, by the number of Arabic words he fancied he found both in the Zend and Pahlavi dialects, as no Arabic element was introduced into the Persian idioms earlier than the seventh century; also by the harsh texture of the Zend, contrasted with the rare euphony of the Persian; and, lastly, by the radical difference between the Zend and Persian, both in words and grammar. To these objections, drawn from the form, he added another derived from the uncommon stupidity of the matter. In Germany, Meiners, to the charges brought against the newly-found books, added another of a new and unexpected kind, namely, that they spoke of ideas unheard of before, and made known new things. "Pray, who would dare ascribe to Zoroaster books in which are found numberless names of trees, animals, men, and demons, unknown to the ancient Persians; in which are invoked an incredible number of pure animals and other things, which, as appears from the silence of ancient writers, were never known, or at least never worshipped, in Persia? What Greek ever spoke of Hôm, of Jemshîd, and of such other personages as the fabricators of that rhapsody exalt with every kind of praise, as divine heroes?" Anquetil and the "Avesta" found an eager champion in the person of Kleuker, professor in the University of Riga. As soon as the French version of the "Avesta" appeared, he published a German translation of it, and also of Anquetil's historical dissertations. Then, in a series of dissertations of his own, he vindicated the authenticity of the Zend books. Anquetil had already tried to show, in a memoir on Plutarch, that the data of the "Avesta" fully agree with the account of the Magian religion given in the treatise on "Isis and Osiris." Kleuker enlarged the circle of comparison to the whole of ancient literature. In the field of philology, he showed, as Anquetil had already done, that Zend has no Arabic elements in it, and that Pahlavi itself, which is more modern than Zend, does not contain any Arabic, but only Semitic words of the Aramean dialect, which are easily accounted for by the close relations of Persia with Aramean lands in the time of the Sassanian kings. He showed, lastly, that Arabic words appear only in the very books which Parsi tradition itself considers modern. Another stanch upholder of the "Avesta" was the numismatologist Tychsen, who, having begun to read the book with a prejudice against its authenticity, quitted it with a conviction to the contrary. "There is nothing in it," he writes, "but what befits remote ages, and a man philosophizing in the infancy of the world. Such traces of a recent period as they fancy to have found in it, are either due to misunderstandings, or belong to its later portions. On the whole there is a marvellous accordance between the 'Zend-Avesta' and the accounts of the ancients with regard to the doctrine and institutions of Zoroaster. Plutarch agrees so well with the Zend books that I think no one will deny the close resemblance of doctrines and identity of origin. Add to all this the incontrovertible argument to be drawn from the language, the antiquity of which is established by the fact that it was necessary to translate a part of the Zend books into Pahlavi, a language which was growing obsolete as early as the time of the Sassanides. Lastly, it cannot be denied that Zoroaster left books which were, through centuries, the groundwork of the Magic religion, and which were preserved by the Magi, as shown by a series of documents from the time of Hermippus. Therefore I am unable to see why we should not trust the Magi of our days when they ascribe to Zoroaster those traditional books of their ancestors, in which nothing is found to indicate fraud or a modern hand." Two years afterwards, in 1793, was published in Paris a book which, without directly dealing with the "Avesta," was the first step taken to make its authenticity incontrovertible. It was the masterly memoir by Sylvestre de Sacy, in which the Pahlavi inscriptions of the first Sassanides were deciphered for the first time and in a decisive manner. De Sacy, in his researches, had chiefly relied on the Pahlavi lexicon published by Anquetil, whose work vindicated itself thus--better than by heaping up arguments--by promoting discoveries. The Pahlavi inscriptions gave the key, as is well-known, to the Persian cuneiform inscriptions, which were in return to put beyond all doubt the genuineness of the Zend language. Tychsen, in an appendix to his Commentaries, pointed to the importance of the new discovery: "This," he writes, "is a proof that the Pahlavi was used during the reign of the Sassanides, for it was from them that these inscriptions emanated, as it was by them--nay, by the first of them, Ardeshîr Bâbagân--that the doctrine of Zoroaster was revived. One can now understand why the Zend books were translated into Pahlavi. Here, too, everything agrees, and speaks loudly for their antiquity and genuineness." About the same time Sir William Jones, then president of the Royal Asiatic Society, which he had just founded, resumed in a discourse delivered before that society the same question he had solved in such an off-hand manner twenty years before. He was no longer the man to say, "_Sied-il à un homme né dans ce siècle de s'infatuer de fables indiennes?_" and although he had still a spite against Anquetil, he spoke of him with more reserve than in 1771. However, his judgment on the "Avesta" itself was not altered on the whole, although, as he himself declared, he had not thought it necessary to study the text. But a glance at the Zend glossary published by Anquetil suggested to him a remark which makes Sir William Jones, in spite of himself, the creator of the comparative grammar of Sanscrit and Zend. "When I perused the Zend glossary," he writes, "I was inexpressibly surprised to find that six or seven words in ten are pure Sanscrit, and even some of their inflexions formed by the rules of the Vyácaran, as yushmácam, the genitive plural of yushmad. Now M. Anquetil most certainly, and the Persian compiler most probably, had no knowledge of Sanscrit, and could not, therefore, have invented a list of Sanscrit words; it is, therefore, an authentic list of Zend words, which has been preserved in books or by tradition; it follows that the language of the Zend was at least a dialect of the Sanscrit, approaching perhaps as nearly to it as the Prácrit, or other popular idioms, which we know to have been spoken in India two thousand years ago." This conclusion, that Zend is a Sanscrit dialect, was incorrect, the connection assumed being too close; but it was a great thing that the near relationship of the two languages should have been brought to light. In 1798 Father Paulo de St. Barthélemy further developed Jones's remark in an essay on the antiquity of the Zend language. He showed its affinity with the Sanscrit by a list of such Zend and Sanscrit words as were least likely to have been borrowed, viz., those that designate the degrees of relationship, the limbs of the body, and the most general and essential ideas. Another list, intended to show, on a special topic, how closely connected the two languages are, contains eighteen words taken from the liturgic language used in India and Persia. This list was not very happily drawn up, as out of the eighteen instances there is not a single one that stands inquiry; yet it was a happy idea, and one which has not even yet yielded all that it promised. His conclusions were that in a far remote antiquity Sanscrit was spoken in Persia and Media, that it gave birth to the Zend language, and that the "Zend-Avesta" is authentic: "Were it but a recent compilation," he writes, "as Jones asserts, how is it that the oldest rites of the Parsis, that the old inscriptions of the Persians, the accounts of the Zoroastrian religion by the classical writers, the liturgic prayers of the Parsis, and, lastly, even their books do not reveal the pure Sanscrit, as written in the land wherein the Parsis live, but a mixed language, which is as different from the other dialects of India as French is from Italian?" This amounted, in fact, to saying that the Zend is not derived from the Sanscrit, but that both are derived from another and older language. The Carmelite had a dim notion of that truth, but, as he failed to express it distinctly, it was lost for years, and had to be rediscovered. The first twenty-five years of this century were void of results, but the old and sterile discussions as to the authenticity of the texts continued in England. In 1808 John Leyden regarded Zend as a Prácrit dialect, parallel to Pali; Pali being identical with the Magadhi dialect and Zend with the Sauraseni. In the eyes of Erskine, Zend was a Sanscrit dialect, imported from India by the founders of Mazdeism, but never spoken in Persia. His main argument was that Zend is not mentioned among the seven dialects which were current in ancient Persia according to the Farhang-i Jehangiri, and that Pahlavi and Persian exhibit no close relationship with Zend. In Germany, Meiners had found no followers. The theologians appealed to the "Avesta," in their polemics, and Rhode sketched the religious history of Persia after the translations of Anquetil. Erskine's essay provoked a decisive answer from Emmanuel Rask, one of the most gifted minds in the new school of philology, who had the honor of being a precursor of both Grimm and Burnouf. He showed that the list of the Jehangiri referred to an epoch later than that to which Zend must have belonged, and to parts of Persia different from those where it must have been spoken; he showed further that modern Persian is not derived from Zend, but from a dialect closely connected with it; and, lastly, he showed what was still more important, that Zend was not derived from Sanscrit. As to the system of its sounds, Zend approaches Persian rather than Sanscrit; and as to its grammatical forms, if they often remind one of Sanscrit, they also often remind one of Greek and Latin, and frequently have a special character of their own. Rask also gave the paradigm of three Zend nouns, belonging to different declensions, as well as the right pronunciation of the Zend letters, several of which had been incorrectly given by Anquetil. This was the first essay on Zend grammar, and it was a masterly one. The essay published in 1831 by Peter von Bohlen on the origin of the Zend language threw the matter forty years back. According to him, Zend is a Prácrit dialect, as it had been pronounced by Jones, Leyden, and Erskine. His mistake consisted in taking Anquetil's transcriptions of the words, which are often so incorrect as to make them look like corrupted forms when compared with Sanscrit. And, what was worse, he took the proper names in their modern Parsi forms, which often led him to comparisons that would have appalled Ménage. Thus Ahriman became a Sanscrit word ariman, which would have meant "the fiend"; yet Bohlen might have seen in Anquetil's work itself that Ahriman is nothing but the modern form of Angra Mainyu, words which hardly remind one of the Sanscrit ariman. Again, the angel Vohu-manô, or "good thought," was reduced, by means of the Parsi form Bahman, to the Sanscrit bâhumân, "a long-armed god." At length came Burnouf. From the time when Anquetil had published his translation, that is to say during seventy years, no real progress had been made in knowledge of the Avesta texts. The notion that Zend and Sanscrit are two kindred languages was the only new idea that had been acquired, but no practical advantage for the interpretation of the texts had resulted from it. Anquetil's translation was still the only guide, and as the doubts about the authenticity of the texts grew fainter, the authority of the translation became greater, the trust reposed in the "Avesta" being reflected on to the work of its interpreter. The Parsis had been the teachers of Anquetil; and who could ever understand the holy writ of the Parsis better than the Parsis themselves? There was no one who even tried to read the texts by the light of Anquetil's translation, to obtain a direct understanding of them. About 1825 Eugène Burnouf was engaged in a course of researches on the geographical extent of the Aryan languages in India. After he had defined the limits which divide the races speaking Aryan languages from the native non-brahmanical tribes in the south, he wanted to know if a similar boundary had ever existed in the northwest; and if it is outside of India that the origin of the Indian languages and civilization is to be sought for. He was thus led to study the languages of Persia, and, first of all, the oldest of them, the Zend. But as he tried to read the texts by help of Anquetil's translation, he was surprised to find that this was not the clue he had expected. He saw that two causes had misled Anquetil: on the one hand, his teachers, the Parsi dasturs, either knew little themselves or taught him imperfectly, not only the Zend, but even the Pahlavi intended to explain the meaning of the Zend; so that the tradition on which his work rested, being incorrect in itself, corrupted it from the very beginning; on the other hand, as Sanscrit was unknown to him and comparative grammar did not as yet exist, he could not supply the defects of tradition by their aid. Burnouf, laying aside tradition as found in Anquetil's translation, consulted it as found in a much older and purer form, in a Sanscrit translation of the Yasna made in the fifteenth century by the Parsi Neriosengh in accordance with the old Pahlavi version. The information given by Neriosengh he tested, and either confirmed or corrected, by a comparison of parallel passages and by the help of comparative grammar, which had just been founded by Bopp, and applied by him successfully to the explanation of Zend forms. Thus he succeeded in tracing the general outlines of the Zend lexicon and in fixing its grammatical forms, and founded the only correct method of interpreting the "Avesta." He also gave the first notions of a comparative mythology of the "Avesta" and the "Veda," by showing the identity of the "Vedic Yama" with the "Avesta Yima," and of Traitâna with Thraêtaona and Ferìdûn. Thus he made his "Commentaire sur le Yasna" a marvellous and unparalleled model of critical insight and steady good sense, equally opposed to the narrowness of mind which clings to matters of fact without rising to their cause and connecting them with the series of associated phenomena, and to the wild and uncontrolled spirit of comparison, which, by comparing everything, confounds everything. Never sacrificing either tradition to comparison or comparison to tradition he knew how to pass from the one to the other, and was so enabled both to discover facts and to explain them. At the same time the ancient Persian inscriptions at Persepolis and Behistun were deciphered by Burnouf in Paris, by Lassen in Bonn, and by Sir Henry Rawlinson in Persia. Thus was revealed the existence, at the time of the first Achaemenian kings, of a language closely connected with that of the "Avesta," and the last doubts as to the authenticity of the Zend books were at length removed. It would have required more than an ordinary amount of scepticism to look still upon the Zend as an artificial language, of foreign importation, without root in the land where it was written, and in the conscience of the people for whom it was written, at the moment when a twin language, bearing a striking likeness to it in nearly every feature, was suddenly making itself heard from the mouth of Darius, and speaking from the very tomb of the first Achaemenian king. That unexpected voice silenced all controversies, and the last echoes of the loud discussion which had been opened in 1771 died away unheeded. [Footnote 9: A century ago, it is said, they still numbered nearly 100,000 souls; but there now remain no more than 8,000 or 9,000, scattered in Yazd and the surrounding villages. Houtum-Schindler gave 8,499 in 1879; of that number there were 6,483 in Yazd, 1,756 in Kirmân, 150 in Teherân.] SELECTIONS FROM THE ZEND-AVESTA THE CREATION[10] Ahura Mazda spake unto Spitama Zarathustra, saying:-- "I have made every land dear to its people, even though it had no charms whatever in it: had I not made every land dear to its people, even though it had no charms whatever in it, then the whole living world would have invaded the Airyana Vaêgô. The first of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the Airyana Vaêgô, by the Vanguhi Dâitya. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the serpent in the river and Winter, a work of the Devas. There are ten winter months there, two summer months; and those are cold for the waters, cold for the earth, cold for the trees. Winters fall there, the worst of all plagues. The second of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the plain which the Sughdhas inhabit. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the locust, which brings death unto cattle and plants. The third of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the strong, holy Môuru. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created plunder and sin. The fourth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the beautiful Bâkhdhi with high-lifted banners. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the ants and the ant-hills. The fifth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was Nisâya, that lies between Môuru and Bâkhdhi. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the sin of unbelief. The sixth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the house-deserting Harôyu. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created tears and wailing. The seventh of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was Vaêkereta, of the evil shadows. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the Pairika Knâthaiti, who clave unto Keresâspa. The eighth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was Urva of the rich pastures. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the sin of pride. The ninth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was Khnenta which the Vehrkânas inhabit. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created a sin for which there is no atonement, the unnatural sin. The tenth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the beautiful Harahvaiti. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created a sin for which there is no atonement, the burying of the dead. The eleventh of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the bright, glorious Haêtumant. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the evil work of witchcraft. And this is the sign by which it is known, this is that by which it is seen at once: wheresoever they may go and raise a cry of sorcery, there the worst works of witchcraft go forth. From there they come to kill and strike at heart, and they bring locusts as many as they want. The twelfth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was Ragha of the three races. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created the sin of utter unbelief. The thirteenth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the strong, holy Kakhra. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created a sin for which there is no atonement, the cooking of corpses. The fourteenth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the four-cornered Varena, for which was born Thraêtaona, who smote Azi Dahâka. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created abnormal issues in women and barbarian oppression. The fifteenth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the Seven Rivers. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created abnormal issues in women and excessive heat. The sixteenth of the good lands and countries which I, Ahura Mazda, created, was the land by the sources of the Rangha, where people live who have no chiefs. Thereupon came Angra Mainyu, who is all death, and he counter-created Winter, a work of the Devas. There are still other lands and countries, beautiful and deep, longing and asking for the good, and bright." [Footnote 10: This chapter is an enumeration of sixteen perfect lands created by Ahura Mazda, and of as many plagues created in opposition by Angra Mainyu. Many attempts have been made, not only to identify these sixteen lands, but also to draw historical conclusions from their order of succession, as representing the actual order of the migrations and settlements of the old Iranian tribes. But there is nothing in the text to support such wide inferences. We have here nothing more than a geographical description of Iran, seen from the religious point of view.] MYTH OF YIMA Zarathustra asked Ahura Mazda:-- "O Ahura Mazda, most beneficent Spirit, Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who was the first mortal, before myself, Zarathustra, with whom thou, Ahura Mazda, didst converse, whom thou didst teach the Religion of Ahura, the Religion of Zarathustra?" Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The fair Yima, the good shepherd, O holy Zarathustra! he was the first mortal, before thee, Zarathustra, with whom I, Ahura Mazda, did converse, whom I taught the Religion of Ahura, the Religion of Zarathustra. Unto him, O Zarathustra, I, Ahura Mazda, spake, saying: 'Well, fair Yima, son of Vîvanghat, be thou the preacher and the bearer of my Religion!' And the fair Yima, O Zarathustra, replied unto me, saying: 'I was not born, I was not taught to be the preacher and the bearer of thy Religion.' Then I, Ahura Mazda, said thus unto him, O Zarathustra, 'Since thou dost not consent to be the preacher and the bearer of my Religion, then make thou my world increase, make my world grow: consent thou to nourish, to rule, and to watch over my world.' And the fair Yima replied unto me, O Zarathustra, saying: 'Yes! I will make thy world increase, I will make thy world grow. Yes! I will nourish, and rule, and watch over thy world. There shall be, while I am king, neither cold wind nor hot wind, neither disease nor death.' Then I, Ahura Mazda, brought two implements unto him: a golden seal and a poniard inlaid with gold. Behold, here Yima bears the royal sway! Thus, under the sway of Yima, three hundred winters passed away, and the earth was replenished with flocks and herds, with men and dogs and birds and with red blazing fires, and there was room no more for flocks, herds, and men. Then I warned the fair Yima, saying: 'O fair Yima, son of Vîvanghat, the earth has become full of flocks and herds, of men and dogs and birds and of red blazing fires, and there is room no more for flocks, herds, and men.' Then Yima stepped forward, in light, southwards, on the way of the sun, and afterwards he pressed the earth with the golden seal, and bored it with the poniard, speaking thus: 'O Spenta Ârmaiti, kindly open asunder and stretch thyself afar, to bear flocks and herds and men.' And Yima made the earth grow larger by one-third than it was before, and there came flocks and herds and men, at their will and wish, as many as he wished. Thus, under the sway of Yima, six hundred winters passed away, and the earth was replenished with flocks and herds, with men and dogs and birds and with red blazing fires, and there was room no more for flocks, herds, and men. And I warned the fair Yima, saying: 'O fair Yima, son of Vîvanghat, the earth has become full of flocks and herds, of men and dogs and birds and of red blazing fires, and there is room no more for flocks, herds, and men.' "Then Yima stepped forward, in light, southwards, on the way of the sun, and afterwards he pressed the earth with the golden seal, and bored it with the poniard, speaking thus: 'O Spenta Ârmaiti, kindly open asunder and stretch thyself afar, to bear flocks and herds and men.' And Yima made the earth grow larger by two-thirds than it was before, and there came flocks and herds and men, at their will and wish, as many as he wished. Thus, under the sway of Yima, nine hundred winters passed away, and the earth was replenished with flocks and herds, with men and dogs and birds and with red blazing fires, and there was room no more for flocks, herds, and men. And I warned the fair Yima, saying: 'O fair Yima, son of Vîvanghat, the earth has become full of flocks and herds, of men and dogs and birds and of red blazing fires, and there is room no more for flocks, herds, and men.' Then Yima stepped forward, in light, southwards, on the way of the sun, and afterwards he pressed the earth with the golden seal, and bored it with the poniard, speaking thus: 'O Spenta Ârmaiti, kindly open asunder and stretch thyself afar, to bear flocks and herds and men.' And Yima made the earth grow larger by three-thirds than it was before, and there came flocks and herds and men, at their will and wish, as many as he wished." THE EARTH O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the first place where the Earth feels most happy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place whereon one of the faithful steps forward, O Spitama Zarathustra! with the log in his hand, the Baresma in his hand, the milk in his hand, the mortar in his hand, lifting up his voice in good accord with religion, and beseeching Mithra, the lord of the rolling country-side, and Râma Hvâstra." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the second place where the Earth feels most happy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place whereon one of the faithful erects a house with a priest within, with cattle, with a wife, with children, and good herds within; and wherein afterwards the cattle continue to thrive, virtue to thrive, fodder to thrive, the dog to thrive, the wife to thrive, the child to thrive, the fire to thrive, and every blessing of life to thrive." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the third place where the Earth feels most happy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place where one of the faithful sows most corn, grass, and fruit, O Spitama Zarathustra! where he waters ground that is dry, or drains ground that is too wet." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the fourth place where the Earth feels most happy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place where there is most increase of flocks and herds." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the fifth place where the Earth feels most happy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place where flocks and herds yield most dung." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the first place where the Earth feels sorest grief? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the neck of Arezûra, whereon the hosts of fiends rush forth from the burrow of the Drug." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the second place where the Earth feels sorest grief? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place wherein most corpses of dogs and of men lie buried." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the third place where the Earth feels sorest grief? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place whereon stand most of those Dakhmas on which the corpses of men are deposited." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the fourth place where the Earth feels sorest grief? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place wherein are most burrows of the creatures of Angra Mainyu." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the fifth place where the Earth feels sorest grief? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is the place whereon the wife and children of one of the faithful, O Spitama Zarathustra! are driven along the way of captivity, the dry, the dusty way, and lift up a voice of wailing." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who is the first that rejoices the Earth with greatest joy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is he who digs out of it most corpses of dogs and men." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who is the second that rejoices the Earth with greatest joy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is he who pulls down most of those Dakhmas on which the corpses of men are deposited. Let no man alone by himself carry a corpse. If a man alone by himself carry a corpse, the Nasu rushes upon him. This Drug Nasu falls upon and stains him, even to the end of the nails, and he is unclean, thenceforth, forever and ever." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What shall be the place of that man who has carried a corpse alone? Ahura Mazda answered: "It shall be the place on this earth wherein is least water and fewest plants, whereof the ground is the cleanest and the driest and the least passed through by flocks and herds, by the fire of Ahura Mazda, by the consecrated bundles of Baresma, and by the faithful." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! How far from the fire? How far from the water? How far from the consecrated bundles of Baresma? How far from the faithful? Ahura Mazda answered: "Thirty paces from the fire, thirty paces from the water, thirty paces from the consecrated bundles of Baresma, three paces from the faithful. There, on that place, shall the worshippers of Mazda erect an enclosure, and therein shall they establish him with food, therein shall they establish him with clothes, with the coarsest food and with the most worn-out clothes. That food he shall live on, those clothes he shall wear, and thus shall they let him live, until he has grown to the age of a Hana, or of a Zaurura, or of a Pairista-khshudra. And when he has grown to the age of a Hana, or of a Zaurura, or of a Pairista-khshudra, then the worshippers of Mazda shall order a man strong, vigorous, and skilful, to cut the head off his neck, in his enclosure on the top of the mountain: and they shall deliver his corpse unto the greediest of the corpse-eating creatures made by the beneficent Spirit, unto the vultures, with these words: 'The man here has repented of all his evil thoughts, words, and deeds. If he has committed any other evil deed, it is remitted by his repentance: if he has committed no other evil deed, he is absolved by his repentance, forever and ever.'" O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who is the third that rejoices the Earth with greatest joy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is he who fills up most burrows of the creatures of Angra Mainyu." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who is the fourth that rejoices the Earth with greatest joy? Ahura Mazda answered: "It is he who sows most corn, grass, and fruit, O Spitama Zarathustra! who waters ground that is dry, or drains ground that is too wet. Unhappy is the land that has long lain unsown with the seed of the sower and wants a good husbandman, like a well-shapen maiden who has long gone childless and wants a good husband. He who would till the earth, O Spitama Zarathustra! with the left arm and the right, with the right arm and the left, unto him will she bring forth plenty of fruit: even as it were a lover sleeping with his bride on her bed; the bride will bring forth children, the earth will bring forth plenty of fruit. He who would till the earth, O Spitama Zarathustra! with the left arm and the right, with the right arm and the left, unto him thus says the Earth: 'O thou man! who dost till me with the left arm and the right, with the right arm and the left, here shall I ever go on bearing, bringing forth all manner of food, bringing corn first to thee.' He who does not till the Earth, O Spitama Zarathustra! with the left arm and the right, with the right arm and the left, unto him thus says the Earth: 'O thou man! who dost not till me with the left arm and the right, with the right arm and the left, ever shalt thou stand at the door of the stranger, among those who beg for bread; the refuse and the crumbs of the bread are brought unto thee, brought by those who have profusion of wealth.'" O maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What is the food that fills the Religion of Mazda? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It is sowing corn again and again, O Spitama Zarathustra! He who sows corn, sows righteousness: he makes the Religion of Mazda walk, he suckles the Religion of Mazda; as well as he could do with a hundred man's feet, with a thousand woman's breasts, with ten thousand sacrificial formulas. When barley was created, the Devas started up; when it grew, then fainted the Devas' hearts; when the knots came, the Devas groaned; when the ear came, the Devas flew away. In that house the Devas stay, wherein wheat perishes. It is as though red hot iron were turned about in their throats, when there is plenty of corn. Then let people learn by heart this holy saying: 'No one who does not eat, has strength to do heavy works of holiness, strength to do works of husbandry, strength to beget children. By eating every material creature lives, by not eating it dies away.'" O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who is the fifth that rejoices the Earth with greatest joy? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It is he who kindly and piously gives to one of the faithful who tills the earth, O Spitama Zarathustra! He who would not kindly and piously give to one of the faithful who tills the earth, O Spitama Zarathustra! Spenta Ârmaiti will throw him down into darkness, down into the world of woe, the world of hell, down into the deep abyss." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall bury in the earth either the corpse of a dog or the corpse of a man, and if he shall not disinter it within half a year, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Five hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, five hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall bury in the earth either the corpse of a dog or the corpse of a man, and if he shall not disinter it within a year, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "A thousand stripes with the Aspahê-astra, a thousand stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall bury in the earth either the corpse of a dog or the corpse of a man, and if he shall not disinter it within the second year, what is the penalty for it? What is the atonement for it? What is the cleansing from it? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "For that deed there is nothing that can pay, nothing that can atone, nothing that can cleanse from it; it is a trespass for which there is no atonement, forever and ever." When is it so? "It is so, if the sinner be a professor of the Religion of Mazda, or one who has been taught in it. But if he be not a professor of the Religion of Mazda, nor one who has been taught in it, then his sin is taken from him, if he makes confession of the Religion of Mazda and resolves never to commit again such forbidden deeds. "The Religion of Mazda indeed, O Spitama Zarathustra! takes away from him who makes confession of it the bonds of his sin; it takes away the sin of breach of trust; it takes away the sin of murdering one of the faithful; it takes away the sin of burying a corpse; it takes away the sin of deeds for which there is no atonement; it takes away the worst sin of usury; it takes away any sin that may be sinned. In the same way the Religion of Mazda, O Spitama Zarathustra! cleanses the faithful from every evil thought, word, and deed, as a swift-rushing mighty wind cleanses the plain. So let all the deeds he doeth be henceforth good, O Zarathustra! a full atonement for his sin is effected by means of the Religion of Mazda." CONTRACTS AND OUTRAGES[11] "He that does not restore a loan to the man who lent it, steals the thing and robs the man. This he doeth every day, every night, as long as he keep in his house his neighbor's property, as though it were his own." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! How many in number are thy contracts, O Ahura Mazda? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "They are six in number, O holy Zarathustra. The first is the word-contract; the second is the hand-contract; the third is the contract to the amount of a sheep; the fourth is the contract to the amount of an ox; the fifth is the contract to the amount of a man; the sixth is the contract to the amount of a field, a field in good land, a fruitful one, in good bearing. The word-contract is fulfilled by words of mouth. It is cancelled by the hand-contract; he shall give as damages the amount of the hand-contract. The hand-contract is cancelled by the sheep-contract; he shall give as damages the amount of the sheep-contract. The sheep-contract is cancelled by the ox-contract; he shall give as damages the amount of the ox-contract. The ox-contract is cancelled by the man-contract; he shall give as damages the amount of the man-contract. The man-contract is cancelled by the field-contract; he shall give as damages the amount of the field-contract." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the word-contract, how many are involved in his sin? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "His sin makes his Nabânazdistas answerable for three hundred years." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the hand-contract, how many are involved in his sin? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "His sin makes his Nabânazdistas answerable for six hundred years." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the sheep-contract, how many are involved in his sin? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "His sin makes his Nabânazdistas answerable for seven hundred years." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the ox-contract, how many are involved in his sin? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "His sin makes his Nabânazdistas answerable for eight hundred years." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the man-contract, how many are involved in his sin? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "His sin makes his Nabânazdistas answerable for nine hundred years." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the field-contract, how many are involved in his sin? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "His sin makes his Nabânazdistas answerable for a thousand years." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the word-contract, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Three hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, three hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the hand-contract, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Six hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, six hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the sheep-contract, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Seven hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seven hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the ox-contract, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Eight hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, eight hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the man-contract, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Nine hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, nine hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man break the field-contract, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "A thousand stripes with the Aspahê-astra, a thousand stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If a man rise up with a weapon in his hand, it is an Âgerepta. If he brandish it, it is an Avaoirista. If he actually smite a man with malicious aforethought, it is an Aredus. Upon the fifth Aredus he becomes a Peshôtanu. O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! He that committeth an Âgerepta, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Five stripes with the Aspahê-astra, five stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the second Âgerepta, ten stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ten stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the third, fifteen stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifteen stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the fourth, thirty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, thirty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the fifth, fifty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the sixth, sixty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, sixty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the seventh, ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If a man commit an Âgerepta for the eighth time, without having atoned for the preceding, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If a man commit an Âgerepta, and refuse to atone for it, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man commit an Avaoirista, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Ten stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ten stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the second Avaoirista, fifteen stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifteen stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the third, thirty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, thirty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the fourth, fifty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the fifth, seventy stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seventy stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the sixth, ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man commit an Avaoirista for the seventh time, without having atoned for the preceding, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man commit an Avaoirista, and refuse to atone for it, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man commit an Aredus, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Fifteen stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifteen stripes with the Sraoshô-karana. "On the second Aredus, thirty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, thirty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the third, fifty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the fourth, seventy stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seventy stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; on the fifth, ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man commit an Aredus for the sixth time, without having atoned for the preceding, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man commit an Aredus, and refuse to atone for it, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another and hurt him sorely, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Thirty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, thirty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; the second time, fifty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; the third time, seventy stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seventy stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; the fourth time, ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If a man commit that deed for the fifth time, without having atoned for the preceding, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If a man commit that deed and refuse to atone for it, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another so that the blood come, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Fifty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; the second time, seventy stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seventy stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; the third time, ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If he commit that deed for the fourth time, without having atoned for the preceding, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another so that the blood come, and if he refuse to atone for it, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another so that he break a bone, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Seventy stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seventy stripes with the Sraoshô-karana; the second time, ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If he commit that deed for the third time, without having atoned for the preceding, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another so that he break a bone, and if he refuse to atone for it, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another so that he give up the ghost, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." If he commit that deed again, without having atoned for the preceding, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man smite another so that he give up the ghost, and if he refuse to atone for it, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana. "And they shall thenceforth in their doings walk after the way of holiness, after the word of holiness, after the ordinance of holiness. "If men of the same faith, either friends or brothers, come to an agreement together, that one may obtain from the other either goods, or a wife, or knowledge, let him who desires goods have them delivered to him; let him who desires a wife receive and wed her; let him who desires knowledge be taught the holy word, during the first part of the day and the last, during the first part of the night and the last, that his mind may be increased in intelligence and wax strong in holiness. So shall he sit up, in devotion and prayers, that he may be increased in intelligence: he shall rest during the middle part of the day, during the middle part of the night, and thus shall he continue until he can say all the words which former Aêthra-paitis have said. "Before the boiling water publicly prepared, O Spitama Zarathustra! let no one make bold to deny having received from his neighbor the ox or the garment in his possession. "Verily I say it unto thee, O Spitama Zarathustra! the man who has a wife is far above him who lives in continence; he who keeps a house is far above him who has none; he who has children is far above the childless man; he who has riches is far above him who has none. And of two men, he who fills himself with meat receives in him Vohu Manô much better than he who does not do so; the latter is all but dead; the former is above him by the worth of an Asperena, by the worth of a sheep, by the worth of an ox, by the worth of a man. This man can strive against the onsets of Astô-vidhôtu; he can strive against the well-darted arrow; he can strive against the winter fiend, with thinnest garment on; he can strive against the wicked tyrant and smite him on the head; he can strive against the ungodly fasting Ashemaogha. "On the very first time when that deed has been done, without waiting until it is done again, down there the pain for that deed shall be as hard as any in this world: even as if one should cut off the limbs from his perishable body with knives of brass, or still worse; down there the pain for that deed shall be as hard as any in this world: even as if one should nail his perishable body with nails of brass, or still worse; down there the pain for that deed shall be as hard as any in this world: even as if one should by force throw his perishable body headlong down a precipice a hundred times the height of a man, or still worse; down there the pain for that deed shall be as hard as any in this world: even as if one should by force impale his perishable body, or still worse; down there the pain for this deed shall be as hard as any in this world: to-wit, the deed of a man, who, knowingly lying, confronts the brimstoned, golden, truth-knowing water with an appeal unto Rashnu and a lie unto Mithra." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! He who, knowingly lying, confronts the brimstoned, golden, truth-knowing water with an appeal unto Rashnu and a lie unto Mithra, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Seven hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seven hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." [Footnote 11: This chapter is the only one in the Vendîdâd that deals with legal subjects.] UNCLEANNESS[12] O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Here is a man watering a corn-field. The water streams down the field; it streams again; it streams a third time; and the fourth time, a dog, a fox, or a wolf carries some Nasu into the bed of the stream: what is the penalty that this man shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "There is no sin upon a man for any Nasu that has been brought by dogs, by birds, by wolves, by winds, or by flies. For were there sin upon a man for any Nasu that might have been brought by dogs, by birds, by wolves, by winds, or by flies, how soon all this material world of mine would be only one Peshôtanu, bent on the destruction of righteousness, and whose soul will cry and wail! so numberless are the beings that die upon the face of the earth." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Does water kill? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Water kills no man: Astô-vîdhôtu binds him, and, thus bound, Vayu carries him off; and the flood takes him up, the flood takes him down, the flood throws him ashore; then birds feed upon him. When he goes away, it is by the will of Fate he goes." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Does fire kill? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Fire kills no man: Astô-vîdhôtu binds him, and, thus bound, Vayu carries him off; and the fire burns up life and limb. When he goes away, it is by the will of Fate he goes." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If the summer is past and the winter has come, what shall the worshippers of Mazda do? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "In every house, in every borough, they shall raise three rooms for the dead." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! How large shall be those rooms for the dead? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Large enough not to strike the skull of the man, if he should stand erect, or his feet or his hands stretched out: such shall be, according to the law, the rooms for the dead. And they shall let the lifeless body lie there, for two nights, or for three nights, or a month long, until the birds begin to fly, the plants to grow, the hidden floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the earth. And as soon as the birds begin to fly, the plants to grow, the hidden floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the earth, then the worshippers of Mazda shall lay down the dead on the Dakhma, his eyes towards the sun. If the worshippers of Mazda have not, within a year, laid down the dead on the Dakhma, his eyes towards the sun, thou shalt prescribe for that trespass the same penalty as for the murder of one of the faithful; until the corpse has been rained on, until the Dakhma has been rained on, until the unclean remains have been rained on, until the birds have eaten up the corpse." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Is it true that thou, Ahura Mazda, seizest the waters from the sea Vouru-kasha with the wind and the clouds? That thou, Ahura Mazda, takest them down to the corpses? that thou, Ahura Mazda, takest them down to the Dakhmas? that thou, Ahura Mazda, takest them down to the unclean remains? that thou, Ahura Mazda, takest them down to the bones? and that then thou, Ahura Mazda, makest them flow back unseen? that thou, Ahura Mazda, makest them flow back to the sea Pûitika? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It is even so as thou hast said, O righteous Zarathustra! I, Ahura Mazda, seize the waters from the sea Vouru-kasha with the wind and the clouds. I, Ahura Mazda, take them to the corpses; I, Ahura Mazda, take them down to the Dakhmas; I, Ahura Mazda, take them down to the unclean remains; I, Ahura Mazda, take them down to the bones; then I, Ahura Mazda, make them flow back unseen; I, Ahura Mazda, make them flow back to the sea Pûitika. The waters stand there boiling, boiling up in the heart of the sea Pûitika, and, when cleansed there, they run back again from the sea Pûitika to the sea Vouru-kasha, towards the well-watered tree, whereon grow the seeds of my plants of every kind by hundreds, by thousands, by hundreds of thousands. Those plants, I, Ahura Mazda, rain down upon the earth, to bring food to the faithful, and fodder to the beneficent cow; to bring food to my people that they may live on it, and fodder to the beneficent cow. "This is the best, this is the fairest of all things, even as thou hast said, O pure Zarathustra!" With these words, the holy Ahura Mazda rejoiced the holy Zarathustra: "Purity is for man, next to life, the greatest good, that purity, O Zarathustra, that is in the Religion of Mazda for him who cleanses his own self with good thoughts, words, and deeds." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! This Law, this fiend-destroying Law of Zarathustra, by what greatness, goodness, and fairness is it great, good, and fair above all other utterances? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "As much above all other floods as is the sea Vouru-kasha, so much above all other utterances in greatness, goodness, and fairness is this Law, this fiend-destroying Law of Zarathustra. As much as a great stream flows swifter than a slender rivulet, so much above all other utterances in greatness, goodness, and fairness is this Law, this fiend-destroying Law of Zarathustra. As high as the great tree stands above the small plants it overshadows, so high above all other utterances in greatness, goodness, and fairness is this Law, this fiend-destroying Law of Zarathustra. As high as heaven is above the earth that it compasses around, so high above all other utterances is this Law, this fiend-destroying Law of Mazda. Therefore, he will apply to the Ratu, he will apply to the Srao-shâ-varez; whether for a draona-service that should have been undertaken and has not been undertaken; or for a draona that should have been offered up and has not been offered up; or for a draona that should have been intrusted and has not been intrusted. The Ratu has power to remit him one-third of his penalty: if he has committed any other evil deed, it is remitted by his repentance; if he has committed no other evil deed, he is absolved by his repentance forever and ever." How long shall the piece of ground lie fallow whereon dogs or men have died? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "A year long shall the piece of ground lie fallow whereon dogs or men have died, O holy Zarathustra! A year long shall no worshipper of Mazda sow or water that piece of ground whereon dogs or men have died; he may sow as he likes the rest of the ground; he may water it as he likes. If within the year they shall sow or water the piece of ground whereon dogs or men have died, they are guilty of the sin of 'burying the dead' towards the water, towards the earth, and towards the plants." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If worshippers of Mazda shall sow or water, within the year, the piece of ground whereon dogs or men have died, what is the penalty that they shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "They are Peshôtanus: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If worshippers of Mazda want to till that piece of ground again, to water it, to sow it, and to plough it, what shall they do? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "They shall look on the ground for any bones, hair, dung, urine, or blood that may be there." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If they shall not look on the ground for any bones, hair, dung, urine, or blood that may be there, what is the penalty that they shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "They are Peshôtanus: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as the top joint of the little finger, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Thirty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, thirty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as the top joint of the fore-finger, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Fifty stripes with the Aspahê-astra, fifty stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as the top joint of the middle finger, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Seventy stripes with the Aspahê-astra, seventy stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as a finger or as a rib, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Ninety stripes with the Aspahê-astra, ninety stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as two fingers or as two ribs, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He is a Peshôtanu: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as an arm-bone or as a thigh-bone, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Four hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, four hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground a bone of a dead dog, or of a dead man, as large as a man's skull, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Six hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, six hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw on the ground the whole body of a dead dog, or of a dead man, and if grease or marrow flow from it on to the ground, what penalty shall he pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "A thousand stripes with the Aspahê-astra, a thousand stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a worshipper of Mazda, walking, or running, or riding, or driving, come upon a corpse in a stream of running water, what shall he do? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Taking off his shoes, putting off his clothes, while the others wait, O Zarathustra! he shall enter the river, and take the dead out of the water; he shall go down into the water ankle-deep, knee-deep, waist-deep, or a man's full depth, till he can reach the dead body." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If, however, the body be already falling to pieces and rotting, what shall the worshipper of Mazda do? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He shall draw out of the water as much of the corpse as he can grasp with both hands, and he shall lay it down on the dry ground; no sin attaches to him for any bone, hair, grease, dung, urine, or blood, that may drop back into the water." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What part of the water in a pond does the Drug Nasu defile with corruption, infection, and pollution? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Six steps on each of the four sides. As long as the corpse has not been taken out of the water, so long shall that water be unclean and unfit to drink. They shall, therefore, take the corpse out of the pond, and lay it down on the dry ground. And of the water they shall draw off the half, or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth part, according as they are able or not; and after the corpse has been taken out and the water has been drawn off, the rest of the water is clean, and both cattle and men may drink of it at their pleasure, as before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What part of the water in a well does the Drug Nasu defile with corruption, infection, and pollution? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "As long as the corpse has not been taken out of the water, so long shall that water be unclean and unfit to drink. They shall, therefore, take the corpse out of the well, and lay it down on the dry ground. And of the water in the well they shall draw off the half, or the third, or the fourth, or the fifth part, according as they are able or not; and after the corpse has been taken out and the water has been drawn off, the rest of the water is clean, and both cattle and men may drink of it at their pleasure, as before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What part of a sheet of snow or hail does the Drug Nasu defile with corruption, infection, and pollution? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Three steps on each of the four sides. As long as the corpse has not been taken out of the water, so long shall that water be unclean and unfit to drink. They shall, therefore, take the corpse out of the water, and lay it down on the dry ground. After the corpse has been taken out, and the snow or the hail has melted, the water is clean, and both cattle and men may drink of it at their pleasure, as before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What part of the water of a running stream does the Drug Nasu defile with corruption, infection, and pollution? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Three steps down the stream, nine steps up the stream, six steps across. As long as the corpse has not been taken out of the water, so long shall the water be unclean and unfit to drink. They shall, therefore, take the corpse out of the water, and lay it down on the dry ground. After the corpse has been taken out and the stream has flowed three times, the water is clean, and both cattle and men may drink of it at their pleasure, as before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Can the Haoma that has been touched with Nasu from a dead dog, or from a dead man, be made clean again? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It can, O holy Zarathustra! If it has been prepared for the sacrifice, there is to it no corruption, no death, no touch of any Nasu. If it has not been prepared for the sacrifice, the stem is defiled the length of four fingers: it shall be laid down on the ground, in the middle of the house, for a year long. When the year is past, the faithful may drink of its juice at their pleasure, as before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Whither shall we bring, where shall we lay the bodies of the dead, O Ahura Mazda? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "On the highest summits, where they know there are always corpse-eating dogs and corpse-eating birds, O holy Zarathustra! There shall the worshippers of Mazda fasten the corpse, by the feet and by the hair, with brass, stones, or clay, lest the corpse-eating dogs and the corpse-eating birds shall go and carry the bones to the water and to the trees." If they shall not fasten the corpse, so that the corpse-eating dogs and the corpse-eating birds may go and carry the bones to the water and to the trees, what is the penalty that they shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "They shall be Peshôtanus: two hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, two hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Whither shall we bring, where shall we lay the bones of the dead, O Ahura Mazda? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The worshippers of Mazda shall make a receptacle out of the reach of the dog, of the fox, and of the wolf, and wherein rain-water cannot stay. They shall make it, if they can afford it, with stones, plaster, or earth; if they cannot afford it, they shall lay down the dead man on the ground, on his carpet and his pillow, clothed with the light of heaven, and beholding the sun." [Footnote 12: This chapter deals chiefly with uncleanness arising from the dead, and with the means of removing it from men and things.] FUNERALS AND PURIFICATION If a dog or a man die under a hut of wood or a hut of felt, what shall the worshippers of Mazda do? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "They shall search for a Dakhma, they shall look for a Dakhma all around. If they find it easier to remove the dead, they shall take out the dead, they shall let the house stand, and shall perfume it with Urvâsna or Vohú-gaona, or Vohú-kereti, or Hadhâ-naepata, or any other sweet-smelling plant. If they find it easier to remove the house, they shall take away the house, they shall let the dead lie on the spot, and shall perfume the house with Urvâsna, or Vohú-gaona, or Vohú-kereti, or Hadhâ-naêpata, or any other sweet-smelling plant." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If in the house of a worshipper of Mazda a dog or a man happens to die, and it is raining, or snowing, or blowing, or it is dark, or the day is at its end, when flocks and men lose their way, what shall the worshippers of Mazda do? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The place in that house whereof the ground is the cleanest and the driest, and the least passed through by flocks and herds, by the fire of Ahura Mazda, by the consecrated bundles of Baresma, and by the faithful." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! How far from the fire? How far from the water? How far from the consecrated bundles of Baresma? How far from the faithful? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Thirty paces from the fire; thirty paces from the water; thirty paces from the consecrated bundles of Baresma; three paces from the faithful;--on that place they shall dig a grave, half a foot deep if the earth be hard, half the height of a man if it be soft; they shall cover the surface of the grave with ashes or cow-dung; they shall cover the surface of it with dust of bricks, of stones, or of dry earth. And they shall let the lifeless body lie there, for two nights, or three nights, or a month long, until the birds begin to fly, the plants to grow, the hidden floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the earth. And when the birds begin to fly, the plants to grow, the hidden floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the earth, then the worshippers of Mazda shall make a breach in the wall of the house, and two men, strong and skilful, having stripped their clothes off, shall take up the body from the clay or the stones, or from the plastered house, and they shall lay it down on a place where they know there are always corpse-eating dogs and corpse-eating birds. Afterwards the corpse-bearers shall sit down, three paces from the dead, and the holy Ratu shall proclaim to the worshippers of Mazda thus: 'Worshippers of Mazda, let the urine be brought here wherewith the corpse-bearers there shall wash their hair and their bodies.'" O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which is the urine wherewith the corpse-bearers shall wash their hair and their bodies? Is it of sheep or of oxen? Is it of man or of woman? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It is of sheep or of oxen; not of man nor of woman, except a man or a woman who has married the next-of-kin: these shall therefore procure the urine wherewith the corpse-bearers shall wash their hair and their bodies." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Can the way, whereon the carcasses of dogs or corpses of men have been carried, be passed through again by flocks and herds, by men and women, by the fire of Ahura Mazda, by the consecrated bundles of Baresma, and by the faithful? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It cannot be passed through again by flocks and herds, nor by men and women, nor by the fire of Ahura Mazda, nor by the consecrated bundles of Baresma, nor by the faithful. They shall therefore cause a yellow dog with four eyes,[13] or a white dog with yellow ears, to go three times through that way. When either the yellow dog with four eyes, or the white dog with yellow ears, is brought there, then the Drug Nasu flies away to the regions of the north, in the shape of a raging fly, with knees and tail sticking out, droning without end, and like unto the foulest Khrafstras. If the dog goes unwillingly, O Spitama Zarathustra, they shall cause the yellow dog with four eyes, or the white dog with yellow ears, to go six times through that way. When either the yellow dog with four eyes, or the white dog with yellow ears, is brought there, then the Drug Nasu flies away to the regions of the north, in the shape of a raging fly, with knees and tail sticking out, droning without end, and like unto the foulest Khrafstras. If the dog goes unwillingly, they shall cause the yellow dog with four eyes, or the white dog with yellow ears, to go nine times through that way. When either the yellow dog with four eyes, or the white dog with yellow ears, has been brought there, then the Drug Nasu flies away to the regions of the north, in the shape of a raging fly, with knees and tail sticking out, droning without end, and like unto the foulest Khrafstras. An Âthravan shall first go along the way and shall say aloud these victorious words: 'Yathâ ahû vairyô:--The will of the Lord is the law of righteousness. The gifts of Vohu-manô to the deeds done in this world for Mazda. He who relieves the poor makes Ahura king. What protector hast thou given unto me, O Mazda! while the hate of the wicked encompasses me? Whom but thy Âtar and Vohu-manô, through whose work I keep on the world of righteousness? Reveal therefore to me thy Religion as thy rule! Who is the victorious who will protect thy teaching? Make it clear that I am the guide for both worlds. May Sraosha come with Vohu-manô and help whomsoever thou pleasest, O Mazda! Keep us from our hater, O Mazda and Spenta Ârmaiti! Perish, O fiendish Drug! Perish, O brood of the fiend! Perish, O creation of the fiend! Perish, O world of the fiend! Perish away, O Drug! Rush away, O Drug! Perish away, O Drug! Perish away to the regions of the north, never more to give unto death the living world of Righteousness!' Then the worshippers of Mazda may at their will bring by those ways sheep and oxen, men and women, and Fire, the son of Ahura Mazda, the consecrated bundles of Baresma, and the faithful. The worshippers of Mazda may afterwards prepare meals with meat and wine in that house; it shall be clean, and there will be no sin, as before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw clothes, either of skin or woven, upon a dead body, enough to cover the feet, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Four hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, four hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw clothes, either of skin or woven, upon a dead body, enough to cover both legs, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Six hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, six hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man shall throw clothes, either of skin or woven, upon a dead body, enough to cover the whole body, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "A thousand stripes with the Aspahê-astra, a thousand stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man, by force, commits the unnatural sin, what is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Eight hundred stripes with the Aspahê-astra, eight hundred stripes with the Sraoshô-karana." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man voluntarily commits the unnatural sin, what is the penalty for it? What is the atonement for it? What is the cleansing from it? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "For that deed there is nothing that can pay, nothing that can atone, nothing that can cleanse from it; it is a trespass for which there is no atonement, forever and ever." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Who is the man that is a Deva? Who is he that is a worshipper of the Devas? that is a male paramour of the Devas? that is a female paramour of the Devas? that is a wife to the Deva? that is as bad as a Deva? that is in his whole being a Deva? Who is he that is a Deva before he dies, and becomes one of the unseen Devas after death? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The man that lies with mankind as man lies with womankind, or as woman lies with mankind, is the man that is a Deva; this one is the man that is a worshipper of the Devas, that is a male paramour of the Devas, that is a female paramour of the Devas, that is a wife to the Deva; this is the man that is as bad as a Deva, that is in his whole being a Deva; this is the man that is a Deva before he dies, and becomes one of the unseen Devas after death: so is he, whether he has lain with mankind as mankind, or as womankind." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Shall the man be clean who has touched a corpse that has been dried up and dead more than a year? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "He shall. The dry mingles not with the dry. Should the dry mingle with the dry, how soon all this material world of mine would be only one Peshôtanu, bent on the destruction of righteousness, and whose soul will cry and wail! so numberless are the beings that die upon the face of the earth." [Footnote 13: A dog with two spots above the eyes.] CLEANSING THE UNCLEAN Zarathustra asked Ahura Mazda:-- O most beneficent Spirit, Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! To whom shall they apply here below, who want to cleanse their body defiled by the dead? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "To a pious man, O Spitama Zarathustra! who knows how to speak, who speaks truth, who has learned the Holy Word, who is pious, and knows best the rites of cleansing according to the law of Mazda. That man shall fell the trees off the surface of the ground on a space of nine Vibâzus square; in that part of the ground where there is least water and where there are fewest trees, the part which is the cleanest and driest, and the least passed through by sheep and oxen, and by the fire of Ahura Mazda, by the consecrated bundles of Baresma, and by the faithful." How far from the fire? How far from the water? How far from the consecrated bundles of Baresma? How far from the faithful? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Thirty paces from the fire, thirty paces from the water, thirty paces from the consecrated bundles of Baresma, three paces from the faithful. Then thou shalt dig a hole, two fingers deep if the summer has come, four fingers deep if the winter and ice have come." How far from one another? "One pace." How much is the pace? "As much as three feet. Then thou shalt dig three holes more, two fingers deep if the summer has come, four fingers deep if the winter and ice have come." How far from the former six? "Three paces." What sort of paces? "Such as are taken in walking." How much are those three paces? "As much as nine feet. Then thou shalt draw a furrow all around with a metal knife. Then thou shalt draw twelve furrows; three of which thou shalt draw to surround and divide from the rest the first three holes; three thou shalt draw to surround and divide the first six holes; three thou shalt draw to surround and divide the nine holes; three thou shalt draw around the three inferior holes, outside the six other holes. At each of the three times nine feet, thou shalt place stones as steps to the holes; or potsherds, or stumps, or clods, or any hard matter. Then the man defiled shall walk to the holes; thou, O Zarathustra! shalt stand outside by the furrow, and thou shalt recite, 'Nemaskâ yâ ârmaitis izâkâ'; and the man defiled shall repeat, 'Nemaskâ yâ ârmaitis izâkâ.' The Drug becomes weaker and weaker at every one of those words which are a weapon to smite the fiend Angra Mainyu, to smite Aeshma of the murderous spear, to smite the Mâzainya fiends, to smite all the fiends. Then thou shalt take for the gômêz a spoon of brass or of lead. When thou takest a stick with nine knots, O Spitama Zarathustra! to sprinkle the gômêz from that spoon, thou shalt fasten the spoon to the end of the stick. They shall wash his hands first. If his hands be not washed first, he makes his whole body unclean. When he has washed his hands three times, after his hands have been washed, thou shalt sprinkle the forepart of his skull; then the Drug Nasu rushes in front, between his brows. Thou shalt sprinkle him in front between the brows; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the back part of the skull. Thou shalt sprinkle the back part of the skull; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the jaws. Thou shalt sprinkle the jaws; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right ear. Thou shalt sprinkle the right ear; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left ear. Thou shalt sprinkle the left ear; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right shoulder. Thou shalt sprinkle the right shoulder; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left shoulder. Thou shalt sprinkle the left shoulder; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right arm-pit. Thou shalt sprinkle the right arm-pit; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left arm-pit. Thou shalt sprinkle the left armpit; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the chest. Thou shalt sprinkle the chest; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the back. Thou shalt sprinkle the back; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right nipple. Thou shalt sprinkle the right nipple; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left nipple. Thou shalt sprinkle the left nippíe; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right rib. Thou shalt sprinkle the right rib; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left rib. Thou shalt sprinkle the left rib; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right hip. Thou shalt sprinkle the right hip; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left hip. Thou shalt sprinkle the left hip; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the sexual parts. Thou shalt sprinkle the sexual parts. If the unclean one be a man, thou shalt sprinkle him first behind, then before; if the unclean one be a woman, thou shalt sprinkle her first before, then behind; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right thigh. Thou shalt sprinkle the right thigh; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left thigh. Thou shalt sprinkle the left thigh; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right knee. Thou shalt sprinkle the right knee; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left knee. Thou shalt sprinkle the left knee; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right leg. Thou shalt sprinkle the right leg; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left leg. Thou shalt sprinkle the left leg; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right ankle. Thou shalt sprinkle the right ankle; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left ankle. Thou shalt sprinkle the left ankle; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the right instep. Thou shalt sprinkle the right instep; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left instep. Thou shalt sprinkle the left instep; then the Drug Nasu turns round under the sole of the foot; it looks like the wing of a fly. He shall press his toes upon the ground and shall raise up his heels; thou shalt sprinkle his right sole; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left sole. Thou shalt sprinkle the left sole; then the Drug Nasu turns round under the toes; it looks like the wing of a fly. He shall press his heels upon the ground and shall raise up his toes; thou shalt sprinkle his right toe; then the Drug Nasu rushes upon the left toe. Thou shalt sprinkle the left toe; then the Drug Nasu flies away to the regions of the north, in the shape of a raging fly, with knees and tail sticking out, droning without end, and like unto the foulest Khrafstras. And thou shalt say these victorious, most healing words: 'The will of the Lord is the law of righteousness. The gifts of Vohu-manô to deeds done in this world for Mazda. He who relieves the poor makes Ahura king. What protector hadst thou given unto me, O Mazda! while the hate of the wicked encompasses me? Whom, but thy Âtar and Vohu-manô, through whose work I keep on the world of Righteousness? Reveal therefore to me thy Religion as thy rule! Who is the victorious who will protect thy teaching? Make it clear that I am the guide for both worlds. May Sraosha come with Vohu-manô and help whomsoever thou pleasest, O Mazda! Keep us from our hater, O Mazda and Spenta Ârmaiti! Perish, O fiendish Drug! Perish, O brood of the fiend! Perish, O world of the fiend! Perish away, O Drug! Rush away, O Drug! Perish away, O Drug! Perish away to the regions of the north, never more to give unto death the living world of Righteousness.' "Afterwards the man defiled shall sit down, inside the furrows, outside the furrows of the six holes, four fingers from those furrows. There he shall cleanse his body with thick handfuls of dust. Fifteen times shall they take up dust from the ground for him to rub his body, and they shall wait there until he is dry even to the last hair on his head. When his body is dry with dust, then he shall step over the holes containing water. At the first hole he shall wash his body once with water; at the second hole he shall wash his body twice with water; at the third hole he shall wash his body thrice with water. Then he shall perfume his body with Urvâsna, or Vohû-gaona, or Vohû-kereti, or Hadhâ-naêpata, or any other sweet-smelling plant; then he shall put on his clothes, and shall go back to his house. He shall sit down there in the place of infirmity, inside the house, apart from the other worshippers of Mazda. He shall not go near the fire, nor near the water, nor near the earth, nor near the cow, nor near the trees, nor near the faithful, either man or woman. Thus shall he continue until three nights have passed. When three nights have passed, he shall wash his body, he shall wash his clothes with gômêz and water to make them clean. Then he shall sit down again in the place of infirmity, inside the house, apart from the other worshippers of Mazda. He shall not go near the fire, nor near the water, nor near the earth, nor near the cow, nor near the trees, nor near the faithful, either man or woman. Thus shall he continue until six nights have passed. When six nights have passed, he shall wash his body, he shall wash his clothes with gômêz and water to make them clean. Then he shall sit down again in the place of infirmity, inside the house, apart from the other worshippers of Mazda. He shall not go near the fire, nor near the water, nor near the earth, nor near the cow, nor near the trees, nor near the faithful, either man or woman. Thus shall he continue, until nine nights have passed. When nine nights have passed, he shall wash his body, he shall wash his clothes with gômêz and water to make them clean. He may thenceforth go near the fire, near the water, near the earth, near the cow, near the trees, and near the faithful, either man or woman. "Thou shalt cleanse a priest for a blessing of the just. Thou shalt cleanse the lord of a province for the value of a camel of high value. Thou shalt cleanse the lord of a town for the value of a stallion of high value. Thou shalt cleanse the lord of a borough for the value of a bull of high value. Thou shalt cleanse the master of a house for the value of a cow three years old. Thou shalt cleanse the wife of the master of a house for the value of a ploughing cow. Thou shalt cleanse a menial for the value of a draught cow. Thou shalt cleanse a young child for the value of a lamb. These are the heads of cattle--flocks or herds--that the worshippers of Mazda shall give to the man who has cleansed them, if they can afford it; if they cannot afford it, they shall give him any other value that may make him leave their houses well pleased with them, and free from anger. For if the man who has cleansed them leave their houses displeased with them, and full of anger, then the Drug Nasu enters them from the nose of the dead, from the eyes, from the tongue, from the jaws, from the sexual organs, from the hinder parts. And the Drug Nasu rushes upon them even to the end of the nails, and they are unclean thenceforth forever and ever. It grieves the sun indeed, O Spitama Zarathustra! to shine upon a man defiled by the dead; it grieves the moon, it grieves the stars. That man delights them, O Spitama Zarathustra! who cleanses from the Nasu the man defiled by the dead; he delights the fire, he delights the water, he delights the earth, he delights the cow, he delights the trees, he delights the faithful, both men and women." Zarathustra asked Ahura Mazda:-- O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What shall be his reward, after his soul has parted from his body, who has cleansed from the Nasu the man defiled by the dead? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The welfare of Paradise thou canst promise to that man, for his reward in the other world." Zarathustra asked Ahura Mazda:-- O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! How shall I fight against that Drug who from the dead rushes upon the living? How shall I fight against that Nasu who from the dead defiles the living? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Say aloud those words in the Gâthas that are to be said twice. Say aloud those words in the Gâthas that are to be said thrice. Say aloud those words in the Gâthas that are to be said four times. And the Drug shall fly away like the well-darted arrow, like the felt of last year, like the annual garment of the earth." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! If a man who does not know the rites of cleansing according to the law of Mazda, offers to cleanse the unclean, how shall I then fight against that Drug who from the dead rushes upon the living? How shall I fight against that Drug who from the dead defiles the living? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Then, O Spitama Zarathustra! the Drug Nasu appears to wax stronger than she was before. Stronger then are sickness and death and the working of the fiend than they were before." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! What is the penalty that he shall pay? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "The worshippers of Mazda shall bind him; they shall bind his hands first; then they shall strip him of his clothes, they shall cut the head off his neck, and they shall give over his corpse unto the greediest of the corpse-eating creatures made by the beneficent Spirit, unto the vultures, with these words: 'The man here has repented of all his evil thoughts, words, and deeds. If he has committed any other evil deed, it is remitted by his repentance; if he has committed no other evil deed, he is absolved by his repentance forever and ever.'" Who is he, O Ahura Mazda! who threatens to take away fulness and increase from the world, and to bring in sickness and death? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "It is the ungodly Ashemaogha, O Spitama Zarathustra! who in this material world cleanses the unclean without knowing the rites of cleansing according to the law of Mazda. For until then, O Spitama Zarathustra! sweetness and fatness would flow out from that land and from those fields, with health and healing, with fulness and increase and growth, and a growing of corn and grass." O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! When are sweetness and fatness to come back again to that land and to those fields, with health and healing, with fulness and increase and growth, and a growing of corn and grass? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Sweetness and fatness will never come back again to that land and to those fields, with health and healing, with fulness and increase and growth, and a growing of corn and grass, until that ungodly Ashemaogha has been smitten to death on the spot, and the holy Sraosha of that place has been offered up a sacrifice for three days and three nights, with fire blazing, with Baresma tied up, and with Haoma prepared. Then sweetness and fatness will come back again to that land and to those fields, with health and healing, with fulness and increase and growth, and a growing of corn and grass." SPELLS RECITED DURING THE CLEANSING Zarathustra asked Ahura Mazda:-- O Ahura Mazda! most beneficent Spirit, maker of the material world, thou Holy One! How shall I fight against that Drug who from the dead rushes upon the living? How shall I fight against that Drug who from the dead defiles the living? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "Say aloud those words in the Gâthas that are to be said twice. 'I drive away Angra Mainyu from this house, from this borough, from this town, from this land; from the very body of the man defiled by the dead, from the very body of the woman defiled by the dead; from the master of the house, from the lord of the borough, from the lord of the town, from the lord of the land; from the whole of the world of Righteousness. I drive away the Nasu, I drive away direct defilement, I drive away indirect defilement, from this house, from this borough, from this town, from this land; from the very body of the man defiled by the dead, from the very body of the woman defiled by the dead; from the master of the house, from the lord of the borough, from the lord of the town, from the lord of the land; from the whole of the world of Righteousness.'" O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which are those words in the Gâthas that are to be said thrice? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "'I drive away Indra, I drive away Sauru, I drive away the Deva Naunghaithya from this house, from this borough, from this town, from this land; from the very body of the man defiled by the dead, from the very body of the woman defiled by the dead; from the master of the house, from the lord of the borough, from the lord of the town, from the lord of the land; from the whole of the world of Righteousness. I drive away Tauru, I drive away Zairi, from this house, from this borough, from this town, from this land; from the very body of the man defiled by the dead, from the very body of the woman defiled by the dead; from the master of the house, from the lord of the borough, from the lord of the town, from the lord of the land; from the whole of the holy world.'" O Maker of the material world, thou Holy One! Which are those words in the Gâthas that are to be said four times? Ahura Mazda answered:-- "These are the words in the Gâthas that are to be said four times, and thou shalt four times say them aloud: 'I drive away Aêshma, the fiend of the murderous spear, I drive away the Deva Akatasha, from this house, from this borough, from this town, from this land; from the very body of the man defiled by the dead, from the very body of the woman defiled by the dead; from the master of the house, from the lord of the borough, from the lord of the town, from the lord of the land; from the whole of the world of Righteousness. I drive away the Varenya Devas, I drive away the Wind-Deva, from this house, from this borough, from this town, from this land; from the very body of the man defiled by the dead, from the very body of the woman defiled by the dead; from the master of the house, from the lord of the borough, from the lord of the town, from the lord of the land; from the whole of the world of Righteousness.'" TO FIRES, WATERS, PLANTS We worship thee, the Fire, O Ahura Mazda's son! We worship the fire Berezi-savangha (of the lofty use), and the fire Vohu-fryâna (the good and friendly), and the fire Urvâ-zista (the most beneficial and most helpful), and the fire Vâzista (the most supporting), and the fire Spenista (the most bountiful), and Nairya-sangha the Yazad of the royal lineage, and that fire which is the house-lord of all houses and Mazda-made, even the son of Ahura Mazda, the holy lord of the ritual order, with all the fires. And we worship the good and best waters Mazda-made, holy, all the waters Mazda-made and holy, and all the plants which Mazda made, and which are holy. And we worship the Mâthra-spenta (the bounteous word-of-reason), the Zarathustrian law against the Devas, and its long descent. And we worship Mount Ushi-darena which is Mazda-made and shining with its holiness, and all the mountains shining with holiness, and of abundant glory, and which Mazda made. And we worship the good and pious prayer for blessings, and these waters and these lands, and all the greatest chieftains, lords of the ritual order; and I praise, invoke, and glorify the good, heroic, bountiful Fravashis of the saints, those of the house, the Vîs, the Zantuma, the Dahvyuma, and the Zarathustrôtema, and all the holy Yazads! TO THE EARTH AND THE SACRED WATERS And now we worship this earth which bears us, together with Thy wives, O Ahura Mazda! yea, those Thy wives do we worship which are so desired from their sanctity. We sacrifice to their zealous wishes, and their capabilities, their inquiries, and their wise acts of pious reverence, and with these their blessedness, their full vigor and good portions, their good fame and ample wealth. O ye waters! now we worship you, you that are showered down, and you that stand in pools and vats, and you that bear forth our loaded vessels, ye female Ahuras of Ahura, you that serve us in helpful ways, well forded and full-flowing, and effective for the bathings, we will seek you and for both the worlds! Therefore did Ahura Mazda give you names, O ye beneficent ones! when He who made the good bestowed you. And by these names we worship you, and by them we would ingratiate ourselves with you, and with them would we bow before you, and direct our prayers to you with free confessions of our debt. O waters, ye who are productive, and ye maternal ones, ye with heat that suckles the frail and needy before birth, ye waters that have once been rulers of us all, we will now address you as the best, and the most bountiful; those are yours, those good objects of our offerings, ye long of arm to reach our sickness, or misfortune, ye mothers of our life! PRAYER FOR HELPERS And now in these Thy dispensations, O Ahura Mazda! do Thou wisely act for us, and with abundance with Thy bounty and Thy tenderness as touching us; and grant that reward which Thou hast appointed to our souls, O Ahura Mazda! Of this do Thou Thyself bestow upon us for this world and the spiritual; and now as part thereof do Thou grant that we may attain to fellowship with Thee, and Thy Righteousness for all duration. And do Thou grant us, O Ahura! men who are righteous, and both lovers and producers of the Right as well. And give us trained beasts for the pastures, broken in for riding, and for bearing, that they may be in helpful companionship with us, and as a source of long enduring vigor, and a means of rejoicing grace to us for this. So let there be a kinsman lord for us, with the laborers of the village, and so likewise let there be the clients. And by the help of those may we arise. So may we be to You, O Ahura Mazda! holy and true, and with free giving of our gifts. A PRAYER FOR SANCTITY AND ITS BENEFITS I pray with benedictions for a benefit, and for the good, even for the entire creation of the holy and the clean; I beseech for them the generation which is now alive, for that which is just coming into life, and for that which shall be hereafter. And I pray for that sanctity which leads to prosperity, and which has long afforded shelter, which goes on hand in hand with it, which joins it in its walk, and of itself becoming its close companion as it delivers forth its precepts, bearing every form of healing virtue which comes to us in waters, appertains to cattle, or is found in plants, and overwhelming all the harmful malice of the Devas, and their servants who might harm this dwelling and its lord, bringing good gifts, and better blessings, given very early, and later gifts, leading to successes, and for a long time giving shelter. And so the greatest, and the best, and most beautiful benefits of sanctity fall likewise to our lot for the sacrifice, homage, propitiation, and the praise of the Bountiful Immortals, for the bringing prosperity to this abode, and for the prosperity of the entire creation of the holy, and the clean, and as for this, so for the opposition of the entire evil creation. And I pray for this as I praise through Righteousness, I who am beneficent, those who are likewise of a better mind. TO THE FIRE I offer my sacrifice and homage to thee, the Fire, as a good offering, and an offering with our hail of salvation, even as an offering of praise with benedictions, to thee, the Fire, O Ahura Mazda's son! Meet for sacrifice art thou, and worthy of our homage. And as meet for sacrifice, and thus worthy of our homage, mayest thou be in the houses of men who worship Mazda. Salvation be to this man who worships thee in verity and truth, with wood in hand, and Baresma ready, with flesh in hand, and holding too the mortar. And mayest thou be ever fed with wood as the prescription orders. Yea, mayest thou have thy perfume justly, and thy sacred butter without fail, and thine andirons regularly placed. Be of full-age as to thy nourishment, of the canon's age as to the measure of thy food, O Fire, Ahura Mazda's son! Be now aflame within this house; be ever without fail in flame; be all a-shine within this house; be on thy growth within this house; for long time be thou thus to the furtherance of the heroic renovation, to the completion of all progress, yea, even till the good heroic millennial time when that renovation shall have become complete. Give me, O Fire, Ahura Mazda's son! a speedy glory, speedy nourishment, and speedy booty, and abundant glory, abundant nourishment, abundant booty, an expanded mind, and nimbleness of tongue for soul and understanding, even an understanding continually growing in its largeness, and that never wanders, and long enduring virile power, an offspring sure of foot, that never sleeps on watch, and that rises quick from bed, and likewise a wakeful offspring, helpful to nurture, or reclaim, legitimate, keeping order in men's meetings, yea, drawing men to assemblies through their influence and word, grown to power, skilful, redeeming others from oppression, served by many followers, which may advance my line in prosperity and fame, and my Vîs, and my Bantu, and my province, yea, an offering which may deliver orders to the Province as firm and righteous rulers. And mayest thou grant me, O Fire, Ahura Mazda's Son! that whereby instructors may be given me, now and for evermore, giving light to me of Heaven, the best life of the saints, brilliant, all glorious. And may I have experience of the good reward, and the good renown, and of the long forecasting preparation of the soul. The Fire of Ahura Mazda addresses this admonition to all for whom he cooks the night and morning meal. From all these, O Spitama! he wishes to secure good care, and healthful care as guarding for salvation, the care of a true praiser. At both the hands of all who come by me, I, the Fire, keenly look: What brings the mate to his mate, the one who walks at large, to him who sits at home? We worship the bounteous Fire, the swift-driving charioteer. And if this man who passes brings him wood brought with sacred care, or if he brings the Baresma spread with sanctity, or the Hadhâ-naêpata plant, then afterwards Ahura Mazda's Fire will bless him, contented, not offended, and in its satisfaction saying thus: May a herd of kine be with thee, and a multitude of men, may an active mind go with thee, and an active soul as well. As a blest soul mayest thou live through thy life, the nights which thou shall live. This is the blessing of the Fire for him who brings it wood well dried, sought out for flaming, purified with the earnest blessing of the sacred ritual truth. We strive after the flowing on of the good waters, and their ebb as well, and the sounding of their waves, desiring their propitiation; I desire to approach them with my praise. TO THE BOUNTIFUL IMMORTALS I would worship these with my sacrifice, those who rule aright, and who dispose of all aright, and this one especially I would approach with my praise (Ahura Mazda). He is thus hymned in our praise-songs. Yea, we worship in our sacrifice that deity and lord, who is Ahura Mazda, the Creator, the gracious helper, the maker of all good things; and we worship in our sacrifice Spitama Zarathustra, that chieftain of the rite. And we would declare those institutions established for us, exact and undeviating as they are. And I would declare forth those of Ahura Mazda, those of the Good Mind, and of Asha Vahista, and those of Khshatra-vairya, and those of the Bountiful Âramaiti, and those of Weal and Immortality, and those which appertain to the body of the Kine, and to the Kine's soul, and those which appertain to Ahura Mazda's Fire, and those of Sraosha the blessed, and of Rashnu the most just, and those of Mithra of the wide pastures, and of the good and holy Wind, and of the good Mazdayasnian Religion, and of the good and pious Prayer for blessings, and those of the good and pious Prayer which frees one from belying, and the good and pious Prayer for blessing against unbelieving words. And these we would declare in order that we may attain unto that speech which is uttered with true religious zeal, or that we may be as prophets of the provinces, that we may succor him who lifts his voice for Mazda, that we may be as prophets who smite with victory, the befriended of Ahura Mazda, and persons the most useful to him, holy men who think good thoughts, and speak good words, and do good deeds. That he may approach us with the Good Mind, and that our souls may advance in good, let it thus come; yea, "how may my soul advance in good? let it thus advance." PRAISE OF THE HOLY BULL Hail, bounteous bull! Hail to thee, beneficent bull! Hail to thee, who makest increase! Hail to thee, who makest growth! Hail to thee, who dost bestow his part upon the righteous faithful, and wilt bestow it on the faithful yet unborn! Hail to thee, whom the Gahi kills, and the ungodly Ashemaogha, and the wicked tyrant. TO RAIN AS A HEALING POWER "Come, come on, O clouds, from up above, down on the earth, by thousands of drops, by myriads of drops"--thus say, O holy Zarathustra! "to destroy sickness, to destroy death, to destroy the sickness that kills, to destroy death that kills, to destroy Gadha and Apagadha. If death come after noon, may healing come at eve! If death come at eve, may healing come at night! If death come at night, may healing come at dawn! And showers shower down new water, new earth, new plants, new healing powers, and new healing." TO THE WATERS AND LIGHT OF THE SUN "As the sea Vouru-kasha is the gathering place of the waters, rising up and going down, up the aërial way and down the earth, down the earth and up the aerial way: thus rise up and roll along! thou in whose rising and growing Ahura Mazda made the aerial way. Up! rise up and roll along! thou swift-horsed Sun, above Hara Berezaiti, and produce light for the world, and mayest thou, O man! rise up there, if thou art to abide in Garô-nmânem, along the path made by Mazda, along the way made by the gods, the watery way they opened. And the Holy Word shall keep away the evil. Of thee, O child! I will cleanse the birth and growth; of thee, O woman! I will make the body and the strength pure; I make thee rich in children and rich in milk; rich in seed, in milk, in fat, in marrow, and in offspring. I shall bring to thee a thousand pure springs, running towards the pastures that give food to the child." TO THE WATERS AND LIGHT OF THE MOON As the sea Vouru-kasha is the gathering place of the waters, rising up and going down, up the aërial way and down the earth, down the earth and up the aërial way: Thus rise up and roll along! thou in whose rising and growing Ahura Mazda made the earth. Up! rise up, thou Moon, that dost keep in thee the seed of the bull; rise up above Hara Berezaiti, and produce light for the world, and mayest thou, O man! rise up there, if thou art to abide in Garô-nmânem, along the path made by Mazda, along the way made by the gods, the watery way they opened. And the Holy Word shall keep away the evil: Of thee, O child! I will cleanse the birth and growth; of thee, O woman! I will make the body and the strength pure; I make thee rich in children and rich in milk; rich in seed, in milk, in fat, in marrow, and in offspring. I shall bring to thee a thousand pure springs, running towards the pastures that give food to the child. TO THE WATERS AND LIGHT OF THE STARS As the sea Vouru-kasha is the gathering place of the waters, rising up and going down, up the aërial way and down the earth, down the earth and up the aërial way: Thus rise up and roll along! thou in whose rising and growing Ahura Mazda made everything that grows. Up! rise up, ye deep Stars, that have in you the seed of waters; rise up above Hara Berezaiti, and produce light for the world, and mayest thou, O man! rise up there, if thou art to abide in Garô-nmânem, along the path made by Mazda, along the way made by the gods, the watery way they opened. Thus rise up and roll along! ye in whose rising and growing Ahura Mazda made everything that rises. In your rising, away will the Kahvuzi fly and cry; away will the Ayêhi fly and cry; away will the Gahi, who follows the Yâtu, fly and cry. THE DHAMMAPADA Translation by F. Max Müller INTRODUCTION The "Dhammapada," or "Path to Virtue," is one of the most practical ethical hand-books of Buddhism. It is included in the canon of Buddhistic Scriptures, and is one of the Eastern books which can be read with delight to-day by those who are classed as general readers. It is divided into twenty-six chapters, and the keynote of it is struck by the sentence "The virtuous man is happy in this world, and he is happy in the next; he is happy in both. He is happy when he thinks of the good he has done; he is still more happy when going on the good path." The first step in the "good path" is earnestness, for as the writer says, "Earnestness is the path of immortality (Nirvana), thoughtlessness the path of death; those who are in earnest do not die, those who are thoughtless are as if dead already." Earnestness, in this connection, evidently means the power of reflection, and of abstracting the mind from mundane things. There is something very inspiring in the sentence, "When the learned man drives away vanity by earnestness, he, the wise, climbing the terraced heights of wisdom, looks down upon the fools: free from sorrow he looks upon the sorrowing crowd, as one that stands on a mountain looks down upon them that stand upon the plain." This reminds us of Lucretius, "How sweet to stand, when tempests tear the main, On the firm cliff, and mark the seaman's toil! Not that another's danger soothes the soul, But from such toil how sweet to feel secure! How sweet, at distance from the strife, to view Contending hosts, and hear the clash of war! But sweeter far on Wisdom's height serene, Upheld by Truth, to fix our firm abode; To watch the giddy crowd that, deep below, Forever wander in pursuit of bliss; To mark the strife for honors, and renown, For wit and wealth, insatiate, ceaseless urged, Day after day, with labor unrestrained." It is curious to see the atheistic Epicurean and the devout Buddhist meeting on a common ground. But the beauties of the "Dhammapada" can only be realized by a careful study of this charming work. We would point out, for instance, in the chapter on Flowers, what is a piece of golden advice to all readers of books: "The disciple will find out the plainly shown path of virtue, as a clever man finds the right flower." Neither the date nor the authorship of the "Dhammapada" is known, but there is conclusive evidence that this canon existed before the Christian era. Many scholars agree in ascribing its utterances to Buddha himself, while others are of the opinion that it is a compilation made by Buddhist monks from various sources. E.W. THE DHAMMAPADA CHAPTER I THE TWIN-VERSES All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage. All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him. "He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me"--in those who harbor such thoughts hatred will never cease. "He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me"--in those who do not harbor such thoughts hatred will cease. For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time: hatred ceases by love--this is an old rule. The world does not know that we must all come to an end here; but those who know it, their quarrels cease at once. He who lives looking for pleasures only, his senses uncontrolled, immoderate in his food, idle, and weak, Mâra (the tempter) will certainly overthrow him, as the wind throws down a weak tree. He who lives without looking for pleasures, his senses well controlled, moderate in his food, faithful and strong, him Mâra will certainly not overthrow, any more than the wind throws down a rocky mountain. He who wishes to put on the yellow dress without having cleansed himself from sin, who disregards also temperance and truth, is unworthy of the yellow dress. But he who has cleansed himself from sin, is well grounded in all virtues, and endowed also with temperance and truth: he is indeed worthy of the yellow dress. They who imagine truth in untruth, and see untruth in truth, never arrive at truth, but follow vain desires. They who know truth in truth, and untruth in untruth, arrive at truth, and follow true desires. As rain breaks through an ill-thatched house, passion will break through an unreflecting mind. As rain does not break through a well-thatched house, passion will not break through a well-reflecting mind. The evil-doer mourns in this world, and he mourns in the next; he mourns in both. He mourns and suffers when he sees the evil result of his own work. The virtuous man delights in this world, and he delights in the next; he delights in both. He delights and rejoices, when he sees the purity of his own work. The evil-doer suffers in this world, and he suffers in the next; he suffers in both. He suffers when he thinks of the evil he has done; he suffers more when going on the evil path. The virtuous man is happy in this world, and he is happy in the next; he is happy in both. He is happy when he thinks of the good he has done; he is still more happy when going on the good path. The thoughtless man, even if he can recite a large portion of the law, but is not a doer of it, has no share in the priesthood, but is like a cow-herd counting the cows of others. The follower of the law, even if he can recite only a small portion of the law, but, having forsaken passion and hatred and foolishness, possesses true knowledge and serenity of mind, he, caring for nothing in this world or that to come, has indeed a share in the priesthood. CHAPTER II ON EARNESTNESS Earnestness is the path of immortality (Nirvâna), thoughtlessness the path of death. Those who are in earnest do not die, those who are thoughtless are as if dead already. Having understood this clearly, those who are advanced in earnestness delight in earnestness, and rejoice in the knowledge of the elect. These wise people, meditative, steady, always possessed of strong powers, attain to Nirvâna, the highest happiness. If an earnest person has roused himself, if he is not forgetful, if his deeds are pure, if he acts with consideration, if he restrains himself, and lives according to law--then his glory will increase. By rousing himself, by earnestness, by restraint and control, the wise man may make for himself an island which no flood can overwhelm. Fools follow after vanity. The wise man keeps earnestness as his best jewel. Follow not after vanity, nor after the enjoyment of love and lust! He who is earnest and meditative, obtains ample joy. When the learned man drives away vanity by earnestness, he, the wise, climbing the terraced heights of wisdom, looks down upon the fools: free from sorrow he looks upon the sorrowing crowd, as one that stands on a mountain looks down upon them that stand upon the plain. Earnest among the thoughtless, awake among the sleepers, the wise man advances like a racer, leaving behind the hack. By earnestness did Maghavan (Indra) rise to the lordship of the gods. People praise earnestness; thoughtlessness is always blamed. A Bhikshu (mendicant) who delights in earnestness, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, moves about like fire, burning all his fetters, small or large. A Bhikshu (mendicant) who delights in reflection, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, cannot fall away from his perfect state--he is close upon Nirvâna. CHAPTER III THOUGHT As a fletcher makes straight his arrow, a wise man makes straight his trembling and unsteady thought, which is difficult to guard, difficult to hold back. As a fish taken from his watery home and thrown on the dry ground, our thought trembles all over in order to escape the dominion of Mâra, the tempter. It is good to tame the mind, which is difficult to hold in and flighty, rushing wherever it listeth; a tamed mind brings happiness. Let the wise man guard his thoughts, for they are difficult to perceive, very artful, and they rush wherever they list: thoughts well guarded bring happiness. Those who bridle their mind which travels far, moves about alone, is without a body, and hides in the chamber of the heart, will be free from the bonds of Mâra, the tempter. If a man's faith is unsteady, if he does not know the true law, if his peace of mind is troubled, his knowledge will never be perfect. If a man's thoughts are not dissipated, if his mind is not perplexed, if he has ceased to think of good or evil, then there is no fear for him while he is watchful. Knowing that this body is fragile like a jar, and making his thought firm like a fortress, one should attack Mâra, the tempter, with the weapon of knowledge, one should watch him when conquered, and should never rest. Before long, alas! this body will lie on the earth, despised, without understanding, like a useless log. Whatever a hater may do to a hater, or an enemy to an enemy, a wrongly-directed mind will do him greater mischief. Not a mother, not a father, will do so much, nor any other relatives; a well-directed mind will do us greater service. CHAPTER IV FLOWERS Who shall overcome this earth, and the world of Yama, the lord of the departed, and the world of the gods? Who shall find out the plainly shown path of virtue, as a clever man finds the right flower? The disciple will overcome the earth, and the world of Yama, and the world of the gods. The disciple will find out the plainly shown path of virtue, as a clever man finds the right flower. He who knows that this body is like froth, and has learnt that it is as unsubstantial as a mirage, will break the flower-pointed arrow of Mâra, and never see the king of death. Death carries off a man who is gathering flowers, and whose mind is distracted, as a flood carries off a sleeping village. Death subdues a man who is gathering flowers, and whose mind is distracted, before he is satiated in his pleasures. As the bee collects nectar and departs without injuring the flower, or its color or scent, so let a sage dwell in his village. Not the perversities of others, not their sins of commission or omission, but his own misdeeds and negligences should a sage take notice of. Like a beautiful flower, full of color, but without scent, are the fine but fruitless words of him who does not act accordingly. But, like a beautiful flower, full of color and full of scent, are the fine and fruitful words of him who acts accordingly. As many kinds of wreaths can be made from a heap of flowers, so many good things may be achieved by a mortal when once he is born. The scent of flowers does not travel against the wind, nor that of sandal-wood, or of Tagara and Mallikâ flowers; but the odor of good people travels even against the wind; a good man pervades every place. Sandal-wood or Tagara, a lotus-flower, or a Vassikî, among these sorts of perfumes, the perfume of virtue is unsurpassed. Mean is the scent that comes from Tagara and sandal-wood; the perfume of those who possess virtue rises up to the gods as the highest. Of the people who possess these virtues, who live without thoughtlessness, and who are emancipated through true knowledge, Mâra, the tempter, never finds the way. As on a heap of rubbish cast upon the highway the lily will grow full of sweet perfume and delight, thus among those who are mere rubbish the disciple of the truly enlightened Buddha shines forth by his knowledge above the blinded worldling. CHAPTER V THE FOOL Long is the night to him who is awake; long is a mile to him who is tired; long is life to the foolish who do not know the true law. If a traveller does not meet with one who is his better, or his equal, let him firmly keep to his solitary journey; there is no companionship with a fool. "These sons belong to me, and this wealth belongs to me," with such thoughts a fool is tormented. He himself does not belong to himself; how much less sons and wealth? The fool who knows his foolishness, is wise at least so far. But a fool who thinks himself wise, he is called a fool indeed. If a fool be associated with a wise man even all his life, he will perceive the truth as little as a spoon perceives the taste of soup. If an intelligent man be associated for one minute only with a wise man, he will soon perceive the truth, as the tongue perceives the taste of soup. Fools of poor understanding have themselves for their greatest enemies, for they do evil deeds which bear bitter fruits. That deed is not well done of which a man must repent, and the reward of which he receives crying and with a tearful face. No, that deed is well done of which a man does not repent, and the reward of which he receives gladly and cheerfully. As long as the evil deed done does not bear fruit, the fool thinks it is like honey; but when it ripens, then the fool suffers grief. Let a fool month after month eat his food (like an ascetic) with the tip of a blade of Ku['s]a-grass, yet is he not worth the sixteenth particle of those who have well weighed the law. An evil deed, like newly-drawn milk, does not turn suddenly; smouldering, like fire covered by ashes, it follows the fool. And when the evil deed, after it has become known, turns to sorrow for the fool, then it destroys his bright lot, nay, it cleaves his head. Let the fool wish for a false reputation, for precedence among the Bhikshus, for lordship in the convents, for worship among other people! "May both the layman and he who has left the world think that this is done by me; may they be subject to me in everything which is to be done or is not to be done," thus is the mind of the fool, and his desire and pride increase. "One is the road that leads to wealth, another the road that leads to Nirvâna"--if the Bhikshu, the disciple of Buddha, has learnt this, he will not yearn for honor, he will strive after separation from the world. CHAPTER VI THE WISE MAN If you see a man who shows you what is to be avoided, who administers reproofs, and is intelligent, follow that wise man as you would one who tells of hidden treasures; it will be better, not worse, for him who follows him. Let him admonish, let him teach, let him forbid what is improper!--he will be beloved of the good, by the bad he will be hated. Do not have evil-doers for friends, do not have low people for friends: have virtuous people for friends, have for friends the best of men. He who drinks in the law lives happily with a serene mind: the sage rejoices always in the law, as preached by the elect. Well-makers lead the water wherever they like; fletchers bend the arrow; carpenters bend a log of wood; wise people fashion themselves. As a solid rock is not shaken by the wind, wise people falter not amidst blame and praise. Wise people, after they have listened to the laws, become serene, like a deep, smooth, and still lake. Good men indeed walk warily under all circumstances; good men speak not out of a desire for sensual gratification; whether touched by happiness or sorrow wise people never appear elated or depressed. If, whether for his own sake, or for the sake of others, a man wishes neither for a son, nor for wealth, nor for lordship, and if he does not wish for his own success by unfair means, then he is good, wise, and virtuous. Few are there among men who arrive at the other shore (become Arhats); the other people here run up and down the shore. But those who, when the law has been well preached to them, follow the law, will pass over the dominion of death, however difficult to cross. A wise man should leave the dark state of ordinary life, and follow the bright state of the Bhikshu. After going from his home to a homeless state, he should in his retirement look for enjoyment where enjoyment seemed difficult. Leaving all pleasures behind, and calling nothing his own, the wise man should purge himself from all the troubles of the mind. Those whose mind is well grounded in the seven elements of knowledge, who without clinging to anything, rejoice in freedom from attachment, whose appetites have been conquered, and who are full of light, they are free even in this world. CHAPTER VII THE VENERABLE There is no suffering for him who has finished his journey, and abandoned grief, who has freed himself on all sides, and thrown off all fetters. They exert themselves with their thoughts well-collected, they do not tarry in their abode; like swans who have left their lake, they leave their house and home. Men who have no riches, who live on recognized food, who have perceived void and unconditioned freedom (Nirvâna), their path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air. He whose appetites are stilled, who is not absorbed in enjoyment, who has perceived void and unconditioned freedom (Nirvâna), his path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air. The gods even envy him whose senses, like horses well broken in by the driver, have been subdued, who is free from pride, and free from appetites; such a one who does his duty is tolerant like the earth, or like a threshold; he is like a lake without mud; no new births are in store for him. His thought is quiet, quiet are his word and deed, when he has obtained freedom by true knowledge, when he has thus become a quiet man. The man who is free from credulity, but knows the uncreated, who has cut all ties, removed all temptations, renounced all desires, he is the greatest of men. In a hamlet or in a forest, on sea or on dry land, wherever venerable persons (Arahanta) dwell, that place is delightful. Forests are delightful; where the world finds no delight, there the passionless will find delight, for they look not for pleasures. CHAPTER VIII THE THOUSANDS Even though a speech be a thousand (of words), but made up of senseless words, one word of sense is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet. Even though a Gâthâ (poem) be a thousand (of words), but made up of senseless words, one word of a Gâthâ is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet. Though a man recite a hundred Gâthâs made up of senseless words, one word of the law is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet. If one man conquer in battle a thousand times a thousand men, and if another conquer himself, he is the greatest of conquerors. One's own self conquered is better than all other people; not even a god, a Gandharva, not Mâra (with Brâhman) could change into defeat the victory of a man who has vanquished himself, and always lives under restraint. If a man for a hundred years sacrifice month by month with a thousand, and if he but for one moment pay homage to a man whose soul is grounded in true knowledge, better is that homage than a sacrifice for a hundred years. If a man for a hundred years worship Agni (fire) in the forest, and if he but for one moment pay homage to a man whose soul is grounded in true knowledge, better is that homage than sacrifice for a hundred years. Whatever a man sacrifice in this world as an offering or as an oblation for a whole year in order to gain merit, the whole of it is not worth a quarter a farthing; reverence shown to the righteous is better. He who always greets and constantly reveres the aged, four things will increase to him: life, beauty, happiness, power. But he who lives a hundred years, vicious and unrestrained, a life of one day is better if a man is virtuous and reflecting. And he who lives a hundred years, ignorant and unrestrained, a life of one day is better if a man is wise and reflecting. And he who lives a hundred years, idle and weak, a life of one day is better if a man has attained firm strength. And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing beginning and end, a life of one day is better if a man sees beginning and end. And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing the immortal place, a life of one day is better if a man sees the immortal place. And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing the highest law, a life of one day is better if a man sees the highest law. CHAPTER IX EVIL A man should hasten towards the good, and should keep his thought away from evil; if a man does what is good slothfully, his mind delights in evil. If a man commits a sin, let him not do it again; let him not delight in sin: the accumulation of evil is painful. If a man does what is good, let him do it again; let him delight in it: the accumulation of good is delightful. Even an evil-doer sees happiness so long as his evil deed does not ripen; but when his evil deed ripens, then does the evil-doer see evil. Even a good man sees evil days so long as his good deed does not ripen; but when his good deed ripens, then does the good man see good things. Let no man think lightly of evil, saying in his heart, It will not come nigh unto me. Even by the falling of water-drops a water-pot is filled; the fool becomes full of evil, even if he gather it little by little. Let no man think lightly of good, saying in his heart, It will not come nigh unto me. Even by the falling of water-drops a water-pot is filled; the wise man becomes full of good, even if he gather it little by little. Let a man avoid evil deeds, as a merchant, if he has few companions and carries much wealth, avoids a dangerous road; as a man who loves life avoids poison. He who has no wound on his hand, may touch poison with his hand; poison does not affect one who has no wound; nor is there evil for one who does not commit evil. If a man offend a harmless, pure, and innocent person, the evil falls back upon that fool, like light dust thrown up against the wind. Some people are born again; evil-doers go to hell; righteous people go to heaven; those who are free from all worldly desires attain Nirvâna. Not in the sky, not in the midst of the sea, not if we enter into the clefts of the mountains, is there known a spot in the whole world where a man might be freed from an evil deed. Not in the sky, not in the midst of the sea, not if we enter into the clefts of the mountains, is there known a spot in the whole world where death could not overcome the mortal. CHAPTER X PUNISHMENT All men tremble at punishment, all men fear death; remember that you are like unto them, and do not kill, nor cause slaughter. All men tremble at punishment, all men love life; remember that thou art like unto them, and do not kill, nor cause slaughter. He who, seeking his own happiness, punishes or kills beings who also long for happiness, will not find happiness after death. He who, seeking his own happiness, does not punish or kill beings who also long for happiness, will find happiness after death. Do not speak harshly to anyone; those who are spoken to will answer thee in the same way. Angry speech is painful: blows for blows will touch thee. If, like a shattered metal plate (gong), thou utter nothing, then thou hast reached Nirvâna; anger is not known to thee. As a cow-herd with his staff drives his cows into the stable, so do Age and Death drive the life of men. A fool does not know when he commits his evil deeds: but the wicked man burns by his own deeds, as if burnt by fire. He who inflicts pain on innocent and harmless persons, will soon come to one of these ten states:-- He will have cruel suffering, loss, injury of the body, heavy affliction, or loss of mind. A misfortune coming from the king, or a fearful accusation, or loss of relations, or destruction of treasures. Lightning-fire will burn his houses; and when his body is destroyed, the fool will go to hell. Not nakedness, not platted hair, not dirt, not fasting, or lying on the earth, not rubbing with dust, not sitting motionless, can purify a mortal who has not overcome desires. He who, though dressed in fine apparel, exercises tranquillity, is quiet, subdued, restrained, chaste, and has ceased to find fault with all other beings, he indeed is a Brâhmana, an ascetic (Sramana), a friar (Bhikshu). Is there in this world any man so restrained by shame that he does not provoke reproof, as a noble horse the whip? Like a noble horse when touched by the whip, be ye strenuous and eager, and by faith, by virtue, by energy, by meditation, by discernment of the law, you will overcome this great pain, perfect in knowledge and in behavior, and never forgetful. Well-makers lead the water wherever they like; fletchers bend the arrow; carpenters bend a log of wood; good people fashion themselves. CHAPTER XI OLD AGE How is there laughter, how is there joy, as this world is always burning? Do you not seek a light, ye who are surrounded by darkness? Look at this dressed-up lump, covered with wounds, joined together, sickly, full of many schemes, but which has no strength, no hold! This body is wasted, full of sickness, and frail; this heap of corruption breaks to pieces, life indeed ends in death. After one has looked at those gray bones, thrown away like gourds in the autumn, what pleasure is there left in life! After a stronghold has been made of the bones, it is covered with flesh and blood, and there dwell in it old age and death, pride and deceit. The brilliant chariots of kings are destroyed, the body also approaches destruction, but the virtue of good people never approaches destruction--thus do the good say to the good. A man who has learnt little, grows old like an ox; his flesh grows, but his knowledge does not grow. Looking for the maker of this tabernacle, I have run through a course of many births, not finding him; and painful is birth again and again. But now, maker of the tabernacle, thou hast been seen; thou shalt not make up this tabernacle again. All thy rafters are broken, thy ridge-pole is sundered; the mind, approaching the Eternal (Visankhâra, Nirvâna), has attained to the extinction of all desires. Men who have not observed proper discipline, and have not gained wealth in their youth, perish like old herons in a lake without fish. Men who have not observed proper discipline, and have not gained wealth in their youth, lie, like broken bows, sighing after the past. CHAPTER XII SELF If a man hold himself dear, let him watch himself carefully; during one at least out of the three watches a wise man should be watchful. Let each man direct himself first to what is proper, then let him teach others; thus a wise man will not suffer. If a man make himself as he teaches others to be, then, being himself well subdued, he may subdue others; for one's own self is difficult to subdue. Self is the lord of self, who else could be the lord? With self well subdued, a man finds a lord such as few can find. The evil done by one's self, self-forgotten, self-bred, crushes the foolish, as a diamond breaks even a precious stone. He whose wickedness is very great brings himself down to that state where his enemy wishes him to be, as a creeper does with the tree which it surrounds. Bad deeds, and deeds hurtful to ourselves, are easy to do; what is beneficial and good, that is very difficult to do. The foolish man who scorns the rule of the venerable (Arhat), of the elect (Ariya), of the virtuous, and follows a false doctrine, he bears fruit to his own destruction, like the fruits of the Katthaka reed. By one's self the evil is done, by one's self one suffers; by one's self evil is left undone, by one's self one is purified. The pure and the impure stand and fall by themselves, no one can purify another. Let no one forget his own duty for the sake of another's, however great; let a man, after he has discerned his own duty, be always attentive to his duty. CHAPTER XIII THE WORLD Do not follow the evil law! Do not live on in thoughtlessness! Do not follow false doctrine! Be not a friend of the world. Rouse thyself! do not be idle! Follow the law of virtue! The virtuous rest in bliss in this world and in the next. Follow the law of virtue; do not follow that of sin. The virtuous rest in bliss in this world and in the next. Look upon the world as you would on a bubble, look upon it as you would on a mirage: the king of death does not see him who thus looks down upon the world. Come, look at this world, glittering like a royal chariot; the foolish are immersed in it, but the wise do not touch it. He who formerly was reckless and afterwards became sober brightens up this world, like the moon when freed from clouds. He whose evil deeds are covered by good deeds, brightens up this world, like the moon when freed from clouds. This world is dark, few only can see here; a few only go to heaven, like birds escaped from the net. The swans go on the path of the sun, they go miraculously through the ether; the wise are led out of this world, when they have conquered Mâra and his train. If a man has transgressed the one law, and speaks lies, and scoffs at another world, there is no evil he will not do. The uncharitable do not go to the world of the gods; fools only do not praise liberality; a wise man rejoices in liberality, and through it becomes blessed in the other world. Better than sovereignty over the earth, better than going to heaven, better than lordship over all worlds, is the reward of Sotâpatti, the first step in holiness. CHAPTER XIV THE BUDDHA--THE AWAKENED He whose conquest cannot be conquered again, into whose conquest no one in this world enters, by what track can you lead him, the Awakened, the Omniscient, the trackless? He whom no desire with its snares and poisons can lead astray, by what track can you lead him, the Awakened, the Omniscient, the trackless? Even the gods envy those who are awakened and not forgetful, who are given to meditation, who are wise, and who delight in the repose of retirement from the world. Difficult to obtain is the conception of men, difficult is the life of mortals, difficult is the hearing of the True Law, difficult is the birth of the Awakened (the attainment of Buddhahood). Not to commit any sin, to do good, and to purify one's mind, that is the teaching of all the Awakened. The Awakened call patience the highest penance, long-suffering the highest Nirvâna; for he is not an anchorite (Pravra-gita) who strikes others, he is not an ascetic (Sramana) who insults others. Not to blame, not to strike, to live restrained under the law, to be moderate in eating, to sleep and sit alone, and to dwell on the highest thoughts--this is the teaching of the Awakened. There is no satisfying lusts, even by a shower of gold pieces; he who knows that lusts have a short taste and cause pain, he is wise; even in heavenly pleasures he finds no satisfaction, the disciple who is fully awakened delights only in the destruction of all desires. Men, driven by fear, go to many a refuge, to mountains and forests, to groves and sacred trees. But that is not a safe refuge, that is not the best refuge; a man is not delivered from all pains after having gone to that refuge. He who takes refuge with Buddha, the Law, and the Church; he who, with clear understanding, sees the four holy truths: pain, the origin of pain, the destruction of pain, and the eightfold holy way that leads to the quieting of pain;--that is the safe refuge, that is the best refuge; having gone to that refuge, a man is delivered from all pain. A supernatural person (a Buddha) is not easily found: he is not born everywhere. Wherever such a sage is born, that race prospers. Happy is the arising of the Awakened, happy is the teaching of the True Law, happy is peace in the church, happy is the devotion of those who are at peace. He who pays homage to those who deserve homage, whether the awakened (Buddha) or their disciples, those who have overcome the host of evils, and crossed the flood of sorrow, he who pays homage to such as have found deliverance and know no fear, his merit can never be measured by anyone. CHAPTER XV HAPPINESS We live happily indeed, not hating those who hate us! among men who hate us we dwell free from hatred! We live happily indeed, free from ailments among the ailing! among men who are ailing let us dwell free from ailments! We live happily indeed, free from greed among the greedy! among men who are greedy let us dwell free from greed! We live happily indeed, though we call nothing our own! We shall be like the bright gods, feeding on happiness! Victory breeds hatred, for the conquered is unhappy. He who has given up both victory and defeat, he, the contented, is happy. There is no fire like passion; there is no losing throw like hatred; there is no pain like this body; there is no happiness higher than rest. Hunger is the worst of diseases, the elements of the body the greatest evil; if one knows this truly, that is Nirvâna, the highest happiness. Health is the greatest of gifts, contentedness the best riches; trust is the best of relationships, Nirvâna the highest happiness. He who has tasted the sweetness of solitude and tranquillity, is free from fear and free from sin, while he tastes the sweetness of drinking in the law. The sight of the elect (Ariya) is good, to live with them is always happiness; if a man does not see fools, he will be truly happy. He who walks in the company of fools suffers a long way; company with fools, as with an enemy, is always painful; company with the wise is pleasure, like meeting with kinsfolk. Therefore, one ought to follow the wise, the intelligent, the learned, the much enduring, the dutiful, the elect; one ought to follow such a good and wise man, as the moon follows the path of the stars. CHAPTER XVI PLEASURE He who gives himself to vanity, and does not give himself to meditation, forgetting the real aim of life and grasping at pleasure, will in time envy him who has exerted himself in meditation. Let no man ever cling to what is pleasant, or to what is unpleasant. Not to see what is pleasant is pain, and it is pain to see what is unpleasant. Let, therefore, no man love anything; loss of the beloved is evil. Those who love nothing, and hate nothing, have no fetters. From pleasure comes grief, from pleasure comes fear; he who is free from pleasure knows neither grief nor fear. From affection comes grief, from affection comes fear; he who is free from affection knows neither grief nor fear. From lust comes grief, from lust comes fear; he who is free from lust knows neither grief nor fear. From love comes grief, from love comes fear; he who is free from love knows neither grief nor fear. From greed comes grief, from greed comes fear; he who is free from greed knows neither grief nor fear. He who possesses virtue and intelligence, who is just, speaks the truth, and does what is his own business, him the world will hold dear. He in whom a desire for the Ineffable (Nirvâna) has sprung up, who in his mind is satisfied, and whose thoughts are not bewildered by love, he is called ûrdhvamsrotas (carried upwards by the stream). Kinsmen, friends, and lovers salute a man who has been long away, and returns safe from afar. In like manner his good works receive him who has done good, and has gone from this world to the other;--as kinsmen receive a friend on his return. CHAPTER XVII ANGER Let a man leave anger, let him forsake pride, let him overcome all bondage! No sufferings befall the man who is not attached to name and form, and who calls nothing his own. He who holds back rising anger like a rolling chariot, him I call a real driver; other people are but holding the reins. Let a man overcome anger by love, let him overcome evil by good; let him overcome the greedy by liberality, the liar by truth! Speak the truth, do not yield to anger; give, if thou art asked for little; by these three steps thou wilt go near the gods. The sages who injure nobody, and who always control their body, they will go to the unchangeable place (Nirvâna), where, if they have gone, they will suffer no more. Those who are ever watchful, who study day and night, and who strive after Nirvâna, their passions will come to an end. This is an old saying, O Atula, this is not as if of to-day: "They blame him who sits silent, they blame him who speaks much, they also blame him who says little; there is no one on earth who is not blamed." There never was, there never will be, nor is there now, a man who is always blamed, or a man who is always praised. But he whom those who discriminate praise continually day after day, as without blemish, wise, rich in knowledge and virtue, who would dare to blame him, like a coin made of gold from the Gambû river? Even the gods praise him, he is praised even by Brâhman. Beware of bodily anger, and control thy body! Leave the sins of the body, and with thy body practise virtue! Beware of the anger of the tongue, and control thy tongue! Leave the sins of the tongue, and practise virtue with thy tongue! Beware of the anger of the mind, and control thy mind! Leave the sins of the mind, and practise virtue with thy mind! The wise who control their body, who control their tongue, the wise who control their mind, are indeed well controlled. CHAPTER XVIII IMPURITY Thou art now like a sear leaf, the messengers of death (Yama) have come near to thee; thou standest at the door of thy departure, and thou hast no provision for thy journey. Make thyself an island, work hard, be wise! When thy impurities are blown away, and thou art free from guilt, thou wilt enter into the heavenly world of the elect (Ariya). Thy life has come to an end, thou art come near to death (Yama), there is no resting-place for thee on the road, and thou hast no provision for thy journey. Make thyself an island, work hard, be wise! When thy impurities are blown away, and thou art free from guilt, thou wilt not enter again into birth and decay. Let a wise man blow off the impurities of himself, as a smith blows off the impurities of silver, one by one, little by little, and from time to time. As the impurity which springs from the iron, when it springs from it, destroys it; thus do a transgressor's own works lead him to the evil path. The taint of prayers is non-repetition; the taint of houses, non-repair; the taint of complexion is sloth; the taint of a watchman, thoughtlessness. Bad conduct is the taint of woman, niggardliness the taint of a benefactor; tainted are all evil ways, in this world and in the next. But there is a taint worse than all taints--ignorance is the greatest taint. O mendicants! throw off that taint, and become taintless! Life is easy to live for a man who is without shame: a crow hero, a mischief-maker, an insulting, bold, and wretched fellow. But life is hard to live for a modest man, who always looks for what is pure, who is disinterested, quiet, spotless, and intelligent. He who destroys life, who speaks untruth, who in the world takes what is not given him, who goes to another man's wife; and the man who gives himself to drinking intoxicating liquors, he, even in this world, digs up his own root. O man, know this, that the unrestrained are in a bad state; take care that greediness and vice do not bring thee to grief for a long time! The world gives according to their faith or according to their pleasure: if a man frets about the food and the drink given to others, he will find no rest either by day or by night. He in whom that feeling is destroyed, and taken out with the very root, finds rest by day and by night. There is no fire like passion, there is no shark like hatred, there is no snare like folly, there is no torrent like greed. The fault of others is easily perceived, but that of one's self is difficult to perceive; a man winnows his neighbor's faults like chaff, but his own fault he hides, as a cheat hides the bad die from the player. If a man looks after the faults of others, and is always inclined to be offended, his own passions will grow, and he is far from the destruction of passions. There is no path through the air, a man is not a Samana outwardly. The world delights in vanity, the Tathâgatas (the Buddhas) are free from vanity. There is no path through the air, a man is not a Samana outwardly. No creatures are eternal; but the awakened (Buddha) are never shaken. CHAPTER XIX THE JUST A man is not just if he carries a matter by violence; no, he who distinguishes both right and wrong, who is learned and guides others, not by violence, but by the same law, being a guardian of the law and intelligent, he is called just. A man is not learned because he talks much; he who is patient, free from hatred and fear, he is called learned. A man is not a supporter of the law because he talks much; even if a man has learnt little, but sees the law bodily, he is a supporter of the law, a man who never neglects the law. A man is not an elder because his head is gray; his age may be ripe, but he is called "Old-in-vain." He in whom there is truth, virtue, pity, restraint, moderation, he who is free from impurity and is wise, he is called an elder. An envious, stingy, dishonest man does not become respectable by means of much talking only, or by the beauty of his complexion. He in whom all this is destroyed, and taken out with the very root, he, when freed from hatred, is called respectable. Not by tonsure does an undisciplined man who speaks falsehood become a Samana; can a man be a Samana who is still held captive by desire and greediness? He who always quiets the evil, whether small or large, he is called a Samana (a quiet man), because he has quieted all evil. A man is not a mendicant (Bhikshu) simply because he asks others for alms; he who adopts the whole law is a Bhikshu, not he who only begs. He who is above good and evil, who is chaste, who with care passes through the world, he indeed is called a Bhikshu. A man is not a Muni because he observes silence if he is foolish and ignorant; but the wise who, as with the balance, chooses the good and avoids evil, he is a Muni, and is a Muni thereby; he who in this world weighs both sides is called a Muni. A man is not an elect (Ariya) because he injures living creatures; because he has pity on all living creatures, therefore is a man called Ariya. Not only by discipline and vows, not only by much learning, not by entering into a trance, not by sleeping alone, do I earn the happiness of release which no worldling can know. O Bhikshu, he who has obtained the extinction of desires has obtained confidence. CHAPTER XX THE WAY The best of ways is the eightfold; the best of truths the four words; the best of virtues passionlessness; the best of men he who has eyes to see. This is the way, there is no other that leads to the purifying of intelligence. Go on this path! This is the confusion of Mâra, the tempter. If you go on this way, you will make an end of pain! The way preached by me, when I had understood the removal of the thorns in the flesh. You yourself must make an effort. The Tathâgatas (Buddhas) are only preachers. The thoughtful who enter the way are freed from the bondage of Mâra. "All created things perish," he who knows and sees this becomes passive in pain; this is the way to purity. "All created things are grief and pain," he who knows and sees this becomes passive in pain; this is the way that leads to purity. "All forms are unreal," he who knows and sees this becomes passive in pain; this is the way that leads to purity. He who does not rouse himself when it is time to rise, who, though young and strong, is full of sloth, whose will and thought are weak, that lazy and idle man never finds the way to knowledge. Watching his speech, well restrained in mind, let a man never commit any wrong with his body! Let a man but keep these three roads of action clear, and he will achieve the way which is taught by the wise. Through zeal knowledge is gained, through lack of zeal knowledge is lost; let a man who knows this double path of gain and loss thus place himself that knowledge may grow. Cut down the whole forest of desires, not a tree only! Danger comes out of the forest of desires. When you have cut down both the forest of desires and its undergrowth, then, Bhikshus, you will be rid of the forest and of desires! So long as the desire of man towards women, even the smallest, is not destroyed, so long is his mind in bondage, as the calf that drinks milk is to its mother. Cut out the love of self, like an autumn lotus, with thy hand! Cherish the road of peace. Nirvâna has been shown by Sugata (Buddha). "Here I shall dwell in the rain, here in winter and summer," thus the fool meditates, and does not think of death. Death comes and carries off that man, honored for his children and flocks, his mind distracted, as a flood carries off a sleeping village. Sons are no help, nor a father, nor relations; there is no help from kinsfolk for one whom death has seized. A wise and well-behaved man who knows the meaning of this should quickly clear the way that leads to Nirvâna. CHAPTER XXI MISCELLANEOUS If by leaving a small pleasure one sees a great pleasure, let a wise man leave the small pleasure, and look to the great. He who, by causing pain to others, wishes to obtain pleasure for himself, he, entangled in the bonds of hatred, will never be free from hatred. What ought to be done is neglected, what ought not to be done is done; the desires of unruly, thoughtless people are always increasing. But they whose whole watchfulness is always directed to their body, who do not follow what ought not to be done, and who steadfastly do what ought to be done, the desires of such watchful and wise people will come to an end. A true Brâhmana goes scathless, though he have killed father and mother, and two valiant kings, though he has destroyed a kingdom with all its subjects. A true Brâhmana goes scathless, though he have killed father and mother, and two holy kings, and an eminent man besides. The disciples of Gotama (Buddha) are always well awake, and their thoughts day and night are always set on Buddha. The disciples of Gotama are always well awake, and their thoughts day and night are always set on the law. The disciples of Gotama are always well awake, and their thoughts day and night are always set on the church. The disciples of Gotama are always well awake, and their thoughts day and night are always set on their body. The disciples of Gotama are always well awake, and their mind day and night always delights in compassion. The disciples of Gotama are always well awake, and their mind day and night always delights in meditation. It is hard to leave the world to become a friar, it is hard to enjoy the world; hard is the monastery, painful are the houses; painful it is to dwell with equals to share everything in common, and the itinerant mendicant is beset with pain. Therefore let no man be an itinerant mendicant, and he will not be beset with pain. A man full of faith, if endowed with virtue and glory, is respected, whatever place he may choose. Good people shine from afar, like the snowy mountains; bad people are not seen, like arrows shot by night. Sitting alone, lying down alone, walking alone without ceasing, and alone subduing himself, let a man be happy near the edge of a forest. CHAPTER XXII THE DOWNWARD COURSE He who says what is not goes to hell; he also who, having done a thing, says I have not done it. After death both are equal: they are men with evil deeds in the next world. Many men whose shoulders are covered with the yellow gown are ill-conditioned and unrestrained; such evil-doers by their evil deeds go to hell. Better it would be to swallow a heated iron ball, like flaring fire, than that a bad unrestrained fellow should live on the charity of the land. Four things does a reckless man gain who covets his neighbor's wife--demerit, an uncomfortable bed, thirdly, punishment, and lastly, hell. There is demerit, and the evil way to hell: there is the short pleasure of the frightened in the arms of the frightened, and the king imposes heavy punishment; therefore let no man think of his neighbor's wife. As a grass-blade, if badly grasped, cuts the arm, badly-practised asceticism leads to hell. An act carelessly performed, a broken vow, and hesitating obedience to discipline (Brâhma-kariyam), all these bring no great reward. If anything is to be done, let a man do it, let him attack it vigorously! A careless pilgrim only scatters the dust of his passions more widely. An evil deed is better left undone, for a man repents of it afterwards; a good deed is better done, for having done it, one does not repent. Like a well-guarded frontier fort, with defences within and without, so let a man guard himself. Not a moment should escape, for they who allow the right moment to pass, suffer pain when they are in hell. They who are ashamed of what they ought not to be ashamed of, and are not ashamed of what they ought to be ashamed of, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path. They who fear when they ought not to fear, and fear not when they ought to fear, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path. They who see sin where there is no sin, and see no sin where there is sin, such men, embracing false doctrines, enter the evil path. They who see sin where there is sin, and no sin where there is no sin, such men, embracing the true doctrine, enter the good path. CHAPTER XXIII THE ELEPHANT Silently I endured abuse as the elephant in battle endures the arrow sent from the bow: for the world is ill-natured. They lead a tamed elephant to battle, the king mounts a tamed elephant; the tamed is the best among men, he who silently endures abuse. Mules are good, if tamed, and noble Sindhu horses, and elephants with large tusks; but he who tames himself is better still. For with these animals does no man reach the untrodden country (Nirvâna), where a tamed man goes on a tamed animal--on his own well-tamed self. The elephant called Dhanapâlaka, his temples running with pungent sap, and who is difficult to hold, does not eat a morsel when bound; the elephant longs for the elephant grove. If a man becomes fat and a great eater, if he is sleepy and rolls himself about, that fool, like a hog fed on grains, is born again and again. This mind of mine went formerly wandering about as it liked, as it listed, as it pleased; but I shall now hold it in thoroughly, as the rider who holds the hook holds in the furious elephant. Be not thoughtless, watch your thoughts! Draw yourself out of the evil way, like an elephant sunk in mud. If a man find a prudent companion who walks with him, is wise, and lives soberly, he may walk with him, overcoming all dangers, happy, but considerate. If a man find no prudent companion who walks with him, is wise, and lives soberly, let him walk alone, like a king who has left his conquered country behind--like an elephant in the forest. It is better to live alone: there is no companionship with a fool; let a man walk alone, let him commit no sin, with few wishes, like an elephant in the forest. If the occasion arises, friends are pleasant; enjoyment is pleasant, whatever be the cause; a good work is pleasant in the hour of death; the giving up of all grief is pleasant. Pleasant in the world is the state of a mother, pleasant the state of a father, pleasant the state of a Samana, pleasant the state of a Brâhmana. Pleasant is virtue lasting to old age, pleasant is a faith firmly rooted; pleasant is attainment of intelligence, pleasant is avoiding of sins. CHAPTER XXIV THIRST The thirst of a thoughtless man grows like a creeper; he runs from life to life, like a monkey seeking fruit in the forest. Whomsoever this fierce poisonous thirst overcomes, in this world, his sufferings increase like the abounding Bîrana grass. But from him who overcomes this fierce thirst, difficult to be conquered in this world, sufferings fall off, like water-drops from a lotus leaf. This salutary word I tell you, "Do ye, as many as are here assembled, dig up the root of thirst, as he who wants the sweet-scented Usîra root must dig up the Bîrana grass, that Mâra, the tempter, may not crush you again and again, as the stream crushes the reeds." As a tree, even though it has been cut down, is firm so long as its root is safe, and grows again, thus, unless the feeders of thirst are destroyed, this pain of life will return again and again. He whose thirty-six streams are strongly flowing in the channels of pleasure, the waves--his desires which are set on passion--will carry away that misguided man. The channels run everywhere, the creeper of passion stands sprouting; if you see the creeper springing up, cut its root by means of knowledge. A creature's pleasures are extravagant and luxurious; given up to pleasure and deriving happiness, men undergo again and again birth and decay. Beset with lust, men run about like a snared hare; held in fetters and bonds, they undergo pain for a long time, again and again. Beset with lust, men run about like a snared hare; let therefore the mendicant drive out thirst, by striving after passionlessness for himself. He who, having got rid of the forest of lust (after having reached Nirvâna), gives himself over to forest-life (to lust), and who, when free from the forest (from lust), runs to the forest (to lust), look at that man! though free, he runs into bondage. Wise people do not call that a strong fetter which is made of iron, wood, or hemp; passionately strong is the care for precious stones and rings, for sons and a wife. That fetter wise people call strong which drags down, yields, but is difficult to undo; after having cut this at last, people leave the world, free from cares, and leaving the pleasures of love behind. Those who are slaves to passions, run down the stream of desires, as a spider runs down the web which he has made himself; when they have cut this, at last, wise people go onwards, free from cares, leaving all pain behind. Give up what is before, give up what is behind, give up what is between, when thou goest to the other shore of existence; if thy mind is altogether free, thou wilt not again enter into birth and decay. If a man is tossed about by doubts, full of strong passions, and yearning only for what is delightful, his thirst will grow more and more, and he will indeed make his fetters strong. If a man delights in quieting doubts, and, always reflecting, dwells on what is not delightful, he certainly will remove, nay, he will cut the fetter of Mâra. He who has reached the consummation, who does not tremble, who is without thirst and without sin, he has broken all the thorns of life: this will be his last body. He who is without thirst and without affection, who understands the words and their interpretation, who knows the order of letters (those which are before and which are after), he has received his last body, he is called the great sage, the great man. "I have conquered all, I know all, in all conditions of life I am free from taint; I have left all, and through the destruction of thirst I am free; having learnt myself, whom should I indicate as my teacher?" The gift of the law exceeds all gifts; the sweetness of the law exceeds all sweetness; the delight in the law exceeds all delights; the extinction of thirst overcomes all pain. Riches destroy the foolish, if they look not for the other shore; the foolish by his thirst for riches destroys himself, as if he were destroying others. The fields are damaged by weeds, mankind is damaged by passion: therefore a gift bestowed on the passionless brings great reward. The fields are damaged by weeds, mankind is damaged by hatred: therefore a gift bestowed on those who do not hate brings great reward. The fields are damaged by weeds, mankind is damaged by vanity: therefore a gift bestowed on those who are free from vanity brings great reward. The fields are damaged by weeds, mankind is damaged by lust: therefore a gift bestowed on those who are free from lust brings great reward. CHAPTER XXV THE BHIKSHU Restraint in the eye is good, good is restraint in the ear, in the nose restraint is good, good is restraint in the tongue. In the body restraint is good, good is restraint in speech, in thought restraint is good, good is restraint in all things. A Bhikshu, restrained in all things, is freed from all pain. He who controls his hand, he who controls his feet, he who controls his speech, he who is well controlled, he who delights inwardly, who is collected, who is solitary and content, him they call Bhikshu. The Bhikshu who controls his mouth, who speaks wisely and calmly, who teaches the meaning and the law, his word is sweet. He who dwells in the law, delights in the law, meditates on the law, recollects the law: that Bhikshu will never fall away from the true law. Let him not despise what he has received, nor ever envy others: a mendicant who envies others does not obtain peace of mind. A Bhikshu who, though he receives little, does not despise what he has received, even the gods will praise him, if his life is pure, and if he is not slothful. He who never identifies himself with name and form, and does not grieve over what is no more, he indeed is called a Bhikshu. The Bhikshu who behaves with kindness, who is happy in the doctrine of Buddha, will reach the quiet place (Nirvâna), happiness arising from the cessation of natural inclinations. O Bhikshu, empty this boat! if emptied, it will go quickly; having cut off passion and hatred, thou wilt go to Nirvâna. Cut off the five fetters, leave the five, rise above the five. A Bhikshu, who has escaped from the five fetters, he is called Oghatinna--"saved from the flood." Meditate, O Bhikshu, and be not heedless! Do not direct thy thought to what gives pleasure, that thou mayest not for thy heedlessness have to swallow the iron ball in hell, and that thou mayest not cry out when burning, "This is pain." Without knowledge there is no meditation, without meditation there is no knowledge: he who has knowledge and meditation is near unto Nirvâna. A Bhikshu who has entered his empty house, and whose mind is tranquil, feels a more than human delight when he sees the law clearly. As soon as he has considered the origin and destruction of the elements of the body, he finds happiness and joy which belong to those who know the immortal (Nirvâna). And this is the beginning here for a wise Bhikshu: watchfulness over the senses, contentedness, restraint under the law; keep noble friends whose life is pure, and who are not slothful. Let him live in charity, let him be perfect in his duties; then in the fulness of delight he will make an end of suffering. As the Vassikâ plant sheds its withered flowers, men should shed passion and hatred, O ye Bhikshus! The Bhikshu whose body and tongue and mind are quieted, who is collected, and has rejected the baits of the world, he is called quiet. Rouse thyself by thyself, examine thyself by thyself, thus self-protected and attentive wilt thou live happily, O Bhikshu! For self is the lord of self, self is the refuge of self; therefore curb thyself as the merchant curbs a noble horse. The Bhikshu, full of delight, who is happy in the doctrine of Buddha will reach the quiet place (Nirvâna), happiness consisting in the cessation of natural inclinations. He who, even as a young Bhikshu, applies himself to the doctrine of Buddha, brightens up this world, like the moon when free from clouds. CHAPTER XXVI THE BRÂHMANA Stop the stream valiantly, drive away the desires, O Brâhmana! When you have understood the destruction of all that was made, you will understand that which was not made. If the Brâhmana has reached the other shore in both laws, in restraint and contemplation, all bonds vanish from him who has obtained knowledge. He for whom there is neither the hither nor the further shore, nor both, him, the fearless and unshackled, I call indeed a Brâhmana. He who is thoughtful, blameless, settled, dutiful, without passions, and who has attained the highest end, him I call indeed a Brâhmana. The sun is bright by day, the moon shines by night, the warrior is bright in his armor, the Brâhmana is bright in his meditation; but Buddha, the Awakened, is bright with splendor day and night. Because a man is rid of evil, therefore he is called Brâhmana; because he walks quietly, therefore he is called Samana; because he has sent away his own impurities, therefore he is called Pravragita (Pabbagita, a pilgrim). No one should attack a Brâhmana, but no Brâhmana, if attacked, should let himself fly at his aggressor! Woe to him who strikes a Brâhmana, more woe to him who flies at his aggressor! It advantages a Brâhmana not a little if he holds his mind back from the pleasures of life; the more all wish to injure has vanished, the more all pain will cease. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who does not offend by body, word, or thought, and is controlled on these three points. He from whom he may learn the law, as taught by the Well-awakened (Buddha), him let him worship assiduously, as the Brâhmana worships the sacrificial fire. A man does not become a Brâhmana by his plaited hair, by his family, or by birth; in whom there is truth and righteousness, he is blessed, he is a Brâhmana. What is the use of plaited hair, O fool! what of the raiment of goat-skins? Within thee there is ravening, but the outside thou makest clean. The man who wears dirty raiments, who is emaciated and covered with veins, who meditates alone in the forest, him I call indeed a Brâhmana. I do not call a man a Brâhmana because of his origin or of his mother. He is indeed arrogant, and he is wealthy: but the poor, who is free from all attachments, him I call indeed a Brâhmana. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who, after cutting all fetters, never trembles, is free from bonds and unshackled. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who, after cutting the strap and the thong, the rope with all that pertains to it, has destroyed all obstacles, and is awakened. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who, though he has committed no offence, endures reproach, stripes, and bonds: who has endurance for his force, and strength for his army. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who is free from anger, dutiful, virtuous, without appetites, who is subdued, and has received his last body. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who does not cling to sensual pleasures, like water on a lotus leaf, like a mustard seed on the point of a needle. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who, even here, knows the end of his own suffering, has put down his burden, and is unshackled. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana whose knowledge is deep, who possesses wisdom, who knows the right way and the wrong, and has attained the highest end. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who keeps aloof both from laymen and from mendicants, who frequents no houses, and has but few desires. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who without hurting any creatures, whether feeble or strong, does not kill nor cause slaughter. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who is tolerant with the intolerant, mild with the violent, and free from greed among the greedy. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana from whom anger and hatred, pride and hypocrisy have dropped like a mustard seed from the point of a needle. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who utters true speech, instructive and free from harshness, so that he offend no one. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who takes nothing in the world that is not given him, be it long or short, small or large, good or bad. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who fosters no desires for this world or for the next, has no inclinations, and is unshackled. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who has no interests, and when he has understood the truth, does not say How, how? and who has reached the depth of the Immortal. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who in this world has risen above both ties, good and evil, who is free from grief, from sin, and from impurity. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who is bright like the moon, pure, serene, undisturbed, and in whom all gayety is extinct. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who has traversed this miry road, the impassable world, difficult to pass, and its vanity, who has gone through, and reached the other shore, is thoughtful, steadfast, free from doubts, free from attachment, and content. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who in this world, having abandoned all desires, travels about without a home, and in whom all concupiscence is extinct. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who, having abandoned all longings, travels about without a home, and in whom all covetousness is extinct. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who, after leaving all bondage to men, has risen above all bondage to the gods, and is free from all and every bondage. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who has left what gives pleasure and what gives pain, who is cold, and free from all germs of renewed life: the hero who has conquered all the worlds. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who knows the destruction and the return of beings everywhere, who is free from bondage, welfaring (Sugata), and awakened (Buddha). Him I call indeed a Brâhmana whose path the gods do not know, nor spirits (Gandharvas), nor men, whose passions are extinct, and who is an Arhat. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who calls nothing his own, whether it be before, behind, or between; who is poor, and free from the love of the world. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana, the manly, the noble, the hero, the great sage, the conqueror, the indifferent, the accomplished, the awakened. Him I call indeed a Brâhmana who knows his former abodes, who sees heaven and hell, has reached the end of births, is perfect in knowledge, a sage, and whose perfections are all perfect. THE UPANISHADS Translation by F. Max Müller INTRODUCTION The "Upanishads" are reckoned to be from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and seventy in number. The date of the earliest of them is about B.C. 600; that is an age anterior to the rise of Buddha. They consist of various disquisitions on the nature of man, the Supreme Being, the human soul, and immortality. They are part of Sanscrit Brahmanic literature, and have the authority of revealed, in contradistinction to traditional truth. We see in these books the struggle of the human mind to attain to a knowledge of God and the destiny of man. The result is the formulation of a definite theosophy, in which we find the Brahman in his meditation trusting to the intuitions of his own spirit, the promptings of his own reason, or the combinations of his own fancy, for a revelation of the truth. The result is given us in these wonderful books. We call them wonderful, because the unaided mind of man never attained, in any other literature, to a profounder insight into spiritual things. The Western reader may find in an "Upanishad" many things that seem to him trifling and absurd, many things obscure and apparently meaningless. It is very easy to ridicule this kind of literature. But as a matter of fact these ancient writings well repay study, as the most astounding productions of the human intellect. In them we see the human mind wrestling with the greatest thoughts that had ever yet dawned upon it, and trying to grasp and to measure the mighty vision before which it was humbled to the dust. The seer, in order to communicate to the world the result of his meditations, seems to catch at every symbol and every word hallowed by familiar usage, in order to set out in concrete shape the color and dimensions of mystic verities; he is employing an old language for the expression of new truths; he is putting new wine into old wine-skins, which burst and the wine is spilt; words fail, and the meaning is lost. It is not lost, however, to those who will try to study the "Upanishads" from within, and not from without: who will try to put himself in the attitude of those earnest and patient explorers who brought so much light into the human life of the East, and so much joy and tranquillity to the perturbed spirit of their fellow-men. Those who thus study these ancient writings will find in them the fundamental principles of a definite theology, and, more wonderful still, the beginnings of that which became afterwards known to the Greeks, and has been known ever since, as metaphysics: that is, scientific transcendentalism. This much will be apparent to anyone who will read and study the "Kaushîtaki- Upanishad," which is one of the most wonderful of the religious books of the East. Laying aside the doctrine of metempsychosis and the idea of reincarnation, there is something sublime and inspiring in the imagery with which the destiny of the soul after death is described, while in the metaphysical subtlety of this book we find an argument against materialism which is just as fresh now as when it was first stated. E.W. THE UPANISHADS KAUSHÎTAKI-UPANISHAD THE COUCH OF BRAHMAN Kitra Gângyâyani, wishing to perform a sacrifice, chose Âruni Uddâlaka, to be his chief priest. But Âruni sent his son, Svetaketu, and said: "Perform the sacrifice for him." When Svetaketu had arrived, Kitra asked him: "Son of Gautama, is there a hidden place in the world where you are able to place me, or is it the other way, and are you going to place me in the world to which that other way leads?"[14] He answered and said: "I do not know this. But, let me ask the master." Having approached his father, he asked: "Thus has Kitra asked me; how shall I answer?" Âruni said: "I also do not know this. Only after having learnt the proper portion of the Veda in Kitra's own dwelling, shall we obtain what others give us, i.e., knowledge. Come, we will both go." Having said this he took fuel in his hand, like a pupil, and approached Kitra Gângyâyani, saying: "May I come near to you?" He replied: "You are worthy of Brahman, O Gautama, because you were not led away by pride. Come hither, I shall make you know clearly." And Kitra said: "All who depart from this world go to the moon. In the former, the bright half, the moon delights in their spirits; in the other, the dark half, the moon sends them on to be born again. Verily, the moon is the door of the Svarga, i.e., the heavenly world. Now, if a man objects to the moon and is not satisfied with life there, the moon sets him free. But if a man does not object, then the moon sends him down as rain upon this earth. And according to his deeds and according to his knowledge he is born again here as a worm, or as an insect, or as a fish, or as a bird, or as a lion, or as a boar, or as a serpent, or as a tiger, or as a man, or as something else in different places. When he has thus returned to the earth, someone, a sage, asks: 'Who art thou?' And he should answer: 'From the wise moon, who orders the seasons, when it is born consisting of fifteen parts, from the moon who is the home of our ancestors, the seed was brought. This seed, even me, they, the gods, mentioned in the Pañkâgnividyâ, gathered up in an active man, and through an active man they brought me to a mother. Then I, growing up to be born, a being living by months, whether twelve or thirteen, was together with my father, who also lived by years of twelve or thirteen months, that I might either know the true Brahman or not know it. Therefore, O ye seasons, grant that I may attain immortality, i.e., knowledge of Brahman. By this my true saying, by this my toil, beginning with the dwelling in the moon and ending with my birth on earth, I am like a season, and the child of the seasons.' 'Who art thou?' the sage asks again. 'I am thou,' he replies. Then he sets him free to proceed onward. "He, at the time of death, having reached the path of the gods, comes to the world of Agni, or fire, to the world of Vâyu, or air, to the world of Varuna, to the world of Indra, to the world of Pragâpati, to the world of Brahman. In that world there is the lake Âra, the moments called Yeshtiha, the river Vigarâ, i.e., age-less, the tree Ilyâ, the city Sâlagya, the palace Aparâgita, i.e., unconquerable, the door-keepers Indra and Pragâpati, the hall of Brahman, called Vibhu (built by vibhu, egoism), the throne Vikakshanâ, i.e., perception, the couch Amitaugas or endless splendor, and the beloved Mânasî, i.e., mind, and her image Kâkshushî, the eye, who, as if taking flowers, are weaving the worlds, and the Apsaras, the Ambâs, or sacred scriptures, and Ambâyavîs, or understanding, and the rivers Ambayâs leading to the knowledge of Brahman. To this world he who knows the Paryanka-vidyâ approaches. Brahman says to him: 'Run towards him, servants, with such worship as is due to myself. He has reached the river Vigarâ, the age-less, he will never age.' "Then five hundred Apsaras go towards him, one hundred with garlands in their hands, one hundred with ointments in their hands, one hundred with perfumes in their hands, one hundred with garments in their hands, one hundred with fruit in their hands. They adorn him with an adornment worthy of Brahman, and when thus adorned with the adornment of Brahman, the knower of Brahman moves towards Brahman. He comes to the lake Âra, and he crosses it by the mind, while those who come to it without knowing the truth, are drowned. He comes to the moments called Yeshtiha, they flee from him. He comes to the river Vigarâ, and crosses it by the mind alone, and there shakes off his good and evil deeds. His beloved relatives obtain the good, his unbeloved relatives the evil he has done. And as a man, driving in a chariot, might look at the two wheels without being touched by them, thus he will look at day and night, thus at good and evil deeds, and at all pairs, all correlative things, such as light and darkness, heat and cold. Being freed from good and freed from evil, he, the knower of Brahman, moves towards Brahman. "He approaches the tree Ilya, and the odor of Brahman reaches him. He approaches the city Sâlagya, and the flavor of Brahman reaches him. He approaches the palace Aparâgita, and the splendor of Brahman reaches him. He approaches the door-keepers Indra and Pragâpati, and they run away from him. He approaches the hall Vibhu, and the glory of Brahman reaches him and he thinks, 'I am Brahman.' He approaches the throne Vikakshanâ. The Sâman verses, Brihad and Rathantara, are the eastern feet of that throne; the Sâman verses, Syaita and Naudhasa, its western feet; the Sâman verses, Vairûpa and Vairâga, its sides lengthways, south and north; the Sâman verses, Sâkvara and Raivata, its sides crossways, east and west. That throne is Pragñâ, knowledge, for by knowledge, self-knowledge, he sees clearly. He approaches the couch Amitaugas. That is Prâna, i.e., speech. The past and the future are its eastern feet; prosperity and earth its western feet; the Sâman verses, Brihad and Rathantara, are the two sides lengthways of the couch, south and north; the Sâman verses, Bhadra and Yagñâyagñiya, are its cross-sides at the head and feet, east and west; the Rik and Sâman are the long sheets, east and west; the Yagus the cross-sheets, south and north; the moon-beam the cushion; the Udgîtha the white coverlet; prosperity the pillow. On this couch sits Brahman, and he who knows himself one with Brahman, sitting on the couch, mounts it first with one foot only. Then Brahman says to him: 'Who art thou?' and he shall answer: 'I am like a season, and the child of the seasons, sprung from the womb of endless space, from the light, from the luminous Brahman. The light, the origin of the year, which is the past, which is the present, which is all living things, and all elements, is the Self. Thou art the Self. What thou art, that am I.' Brahman says to him: 'Who am I?' He shall answer: 'That which is, the true.' Brahman asks: 'What is the true?' He says to him: 'What is different from the gods and from the senses that is Sat, but the gods and the senses are Tyam. Therefore, by that name Sattya, or true, is called all this whatever there is. All this thou art.' This is also declared by a verse: 'This great Rishi, whose belly is the Yagus, the head the Sâman, the form the Rik, is to be known as being imperishable, as being Brahman.' "Brahman says to him: 'How dost thou obtain my male names?' He should answer: 'By breath.' Brahman asks: 'How my female names?' He should answer: 'By speech.' Brahman asks: 'How my neuter names?' He should answer: 'By mind.' 'How smells?' 'By the nose.' 'How forms?' 'By the eye.' 'How sounds?' 'By the ear.' 'How flavors of food?' 'By the tongue.' 'How actions?' 'By the hands.' 'How pleasures and pain?' 'By the body.' 'How joy, delight, and offspring?' 'By the organ.' 'How journeyings?' 'By the feet.' 'How thoughts, and what is to be known and desired?' 'By knowledge alone.' "Brahman says to him: 'Water indeed is this my world, the whole Brahman world, and it is thine.' "Whatever victory, whatever might belongs to Brahman, that victory and that might he obtains who knows this, yea, who knows this."[15] KNOWLEDGE OF THE LIVING SPIRIT "Prâna, or breath,[16] is Brahman," thus says Kaushîtaki. "Of this prâna, which is Brahman, the mind is the messenger, speech the housekeeper, the eye the guard, the ear the informant. He who knows mind as the messenger of prâna, which is Brahman, becomes possessed of the messenger. He who knows speech as the housekeeper, becomes possessed of the housekeeper. He who knows the eye as the guard, becomes possessed of the guard. He who knows the ear as the informant, becomes possessed of the informant. "Now to that prâna, which is Brahman, all these deities, mind, speech, eye, ear, bring an offering, though he asks not for it, and thus to him who knows this all creatures bring an offering, though he asks not for it. For him who knows this, there is this Upanishad, or secret vow, 'Beg not!' As a man who has begged through a village and got nothing sits down and says, 'I shall never eat anything given by those people,' and as then those who formerly refused him press him to accept their alms, thus is the rule for him who begs not, but the charitable will press him and say, 'Let us give to thee.'" "Prâna, or breath, is Brahman," thus says Paingya. "And in that prâna, which is Brahman, the eye stands firm behind speech, the ear stands firm behind the eye, the mind stands firm behind the ear, and the spirit stands firm behind the mind.[17] To that prâna, which is Brahman, all these deities bring an offering, though he asks not for it, and thus to him who knows this, all creatures bring an offering, though he asks not for it. For him who knows this, there is this Upanishad, or secret vow, 'Beg not!' As a man who has begged through a village and got nothing sits down and says, 'I shall never eat anything given by those people,' and as then those who formerly refused him press him to accept their alms, thus is the rule for him who begs not, but the charitable will press him and say, 'Let us give to thee.' "Now follows the attainment of the highest treasure, i.e., spirit.[18] If a man meditates on that highest treasure, let him on a full moon or a new moon, or in the bright fortnight, under an auspicious Nakshatra, at one of these proper times, bending his right knee, offer oblations of ghee with a ladle, after having placed the fire, swept the ground, strewn the sacred grass, and sprinkled water. Let him say: 'The deity called Speech is the attainer, may it attain this for me from him who possesses and can bestow what I wish for. Svâhâ to it!' 'The deity called prâna, or breath, is the attainer, may it attain this for me from him. Svâhâ to it!' 'The deity called the eye is the attainer, may it attain this for me from him. Svâhâ to it!' 'The deity called the ear is the attainer, may it attain this for me from him. Svâhâ to it!' 'The deity called mind is the attainer of it, may it attain this for me from him. Svâhâ to it!' 'The deity called knowledge is the attainer of it, may it attain this for me from him. Svâhâ to it!' "Then having inhaled the smell of the smoke, and having rubbed his limbs with the ointment of ghee, walking on in silence, let him declare his wish, or let him send a messenger. He will surely obtain his wish. "Now follows the Daiva Smara, the desire to be accomplished by the gods. If a man desires to become dear to any man or woman, or to any men or women, then at one of the fore-mentioned proper times he offers, in exactly the same manner as before, oblations of ghee, saying: 'I offer thy speech in myself, I this one here, Svâhâ.' 'I offer thy ear in myself, I this one here, Svâhâ.' 'I offer thy mind in myself, I this one here, Svâhâ.' 'I offer thy knowledge in myself, I this one here, Svâhâ.' Then having inhaled the smell of the smoke, and having rubbed his limbs with the ointment of ghee, walking on in silence, let him try to come in contact or let him stand speaking in the wind, so that the wind may carry his words to the person by whom he desires to be loved. Surely he becomes dear, and they think of him. "Now follows the restraint instituted by Pratardana, the son of Divodâsa: they call it the inner Agni-hotri. So long as a man speaks, he cannot breathe, he offers all the while his breath in his speech. And so long as a man breathes, he cannot speak, he offers all the while his speech in his breath. These two endless and immortal oblations he offers always, whether waking or sleeping. Whatever other oblations there are (those, e.g., of the ordinary Agni-hotri, consisting of milk and other things), they have an end, for they consist of works which, like all works, have an end. The ancients, knowing this the best Agni-hotri, did not offer the ordinary Agni-hotri. "Uktha is Brahman, thus said Sushkabhringâra. Let him meditate on the uktha as the same with the Rik, and all beings will praise him as the best. Let him meditate on it as the same with the Yagus, and all beings will join before him as the best. Let him meditate on it as the same with the Sâman, and all beings will bow before him as the best. Let him meditate on it as the same with might, let him meditate on it as the same with glory, let him meditate on it as the same with splendor. For as the bow is among weapons the mightiest, the most glorious, the most splendid, thus is he who knows this among all beings the mightiest, the most glorious, the most splendid. The Adhvaryu conceives the fire of the altar, which is used for the sacrifice, to be himself. In it he the Adhvaryu weaves the Yagus portion of the sacrifice. And in the Yagus portion the Hotri weaves the Rik portion of the sacrifice. And in the Rik portion the Udgâtri weaves the Sâman portion of the sacrifice. He, the Adhvaryu, or prâna, is the self of the threefold knowledge; he indeed is the self of prâna. He who knows this is the self of it, i.e., becomes prâna. "Next follow the three kinds of meditation of the all-conquering Kaushîtaki. The all-conquering Kaushîtaki adores the sun when rising, having put on the sacrificial cord,[19] having brought water, and having thrice sprinkled the water-cup, saying: 'Thou art the deliverer, deliver me from sin.' In the same manner he adores the sun when in the zenith, saying: 'Thou art the highest deliverer, deliver me highly from sin.' In the same manner he adores the sun when setting, saying: 'Thou art the full deliverer, deliver me fully from sin.' Thus he fully removes whatever sin he committed by day and by night. And in the same manner he who knows this, likewise adores the sun, and fully removes whatever sin he committed by day and by night. "Then, secondly, let him worship every month in the year at the time of the new moon, the moon as it is seen in the west in the same manner as before described with regard to the sun, or let him send forth his speech towards the moon with two green blades of grass, saying: 'O thou who art mistress of immortal joy, through that gentle heart of mine which abides in the moon, may I never weep for misfortune concerning my children.' "The children of him who thus adores the moon do not indeed die before him. Thus it is with a man to whom a son is already born. "Now for one to whom no son is born as yet. He mutters the three Rik verses. 'Increase, O Soma! may vigor come to thee.' 'May milk, may food go to thee.' 'That ray which the Âdityas gladden.' "Having muttered these three Rik verses, he says: 'Do not increase by our breath, by our offspring, by our cattle; he who hates us and whom we hate, increase by his breath, by his offspring, by his cattle. Thus I turn the turn of the god, I return the turn of Âditya.' After these words, having raised the right arm towards Soma, he lets it go again. "Then, thirdly, let him worship on the day of the full moon the moon as it is seen in the east in the same manner, saying: 'Thou art Soma, the king, the wise, the five-mouthed, the lord of creatures. The Brahmana is one of thy mouths; with that mouth thou eatest the kings; make me an eater of food by that mouth! The king is one of thy mouths; with that mouth thou eatest the people; make me an eater of food by that mouth! The hawk is one of thy mouths; with that mouth thou eatest the birds; make me an eater of food by that mouth! Fire is one of thy mouths; with that mouth thou eatest this world; make me an eater of food by that mouth! In thee there is the fifth mouth; with that mouth thou eatest all beings; make me an eater of food by that mouth! Do not decrease by our life, by our offspring, by our cattle; he who hates us and whom we hate, decrease by his life, by his offspring, by his cattle. Thus I turn the turn of the god, I return the turn of Âditya.' After these words, having raised the right arm, he lets it go again. "Next, having addressed these prayers to Soma, when being with his wife, let him stroke her heart, saying: 'O fair one, who hast obtained immortal joy by that which has entered thy heart through Pragâpati, mayest thou never fall into sorrow about thy children.' Her children then do not die before her. "Next, if a man has been absent and returns home, let him kiss his son's head, saying: 'Thou springest from every limb, thou art born from the heart, thou, my son, art my self indeed: live thou a hundred harvests.' He gives him his name, saying: 'Be thou a stone, be thou an axe, be thou solid gold; thou, my son, art light indeed: live thou a hundred harvests.' He pronounces his name. Then he embraces him, saying: 'As Pragâpati the lord of creatures embraced his creatures for their welfare, thus I embrace thee,' (pronouncing his name). Then he mutters into his right ear, saying: 'O thou, quick Maghavan, give to him.' 'O Indra, bestow thy best wishes'--thus he whispers into his left ear. Let him then thrice kiss his head, saying: 'Do not cut off the line of our race, do not suffer. Live a hundred harvests of life; I kiss thy head, O son, with thy name.' He then thrice makes a lowing sound over his head, saying: 'I low over thee with the lowing sound of cows.' "Next follows the Daiva Parimara, the dying around of the gods, the absorption of the two classes of gods, mentioned before, into prâna or Brahman. This Brahman shines forth indeed when the fire burns, and it dies when it burns not. Its splendor goes to the sun alone, the life prâna, the moving principle, to the air. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when the sun is seen, and it dies when it is not seen. Its splendor goes to the moon alone, the life to the air. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when the moon is seen, and it dies when it is not seen. Its splendor goes to the lightning alone, its life to the air. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when the lightning flashes, and it dies when it flashes not. Its splendor goes to the air, and the life to the air. "Thus all these deities (fire, sun, moon, lightning), having entered the air, though dead, do not vanish; and out of the very air they rise again. So much with reference to the deities. Now then, with reference to the body. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when one speaks with speech, and it dies when one does not speak. His splendor goes to the eye alone, the life to breath. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when one sees with the eye, and it dies when one does not see. Its splendor goes to the ear alone, the life to breath. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when one hears with the ear, and it dies when one does not hear. Its splendor goes to the mind alone, the life to breath. "This Brahman shines forth indeed when one thinks with the mind, and it dies when one does not think. Its splendor goes to the breath alone, and the life to breath. "Thus all these deities (the senses, etc.), having entered breath or life alone, though dead, do not vanish; and out of very breath they rise again. And if two mountains, the southern and northern, were to move forward trying to crush him who knows this, they would not crush him. But those who hate him and those whom he hates, they die around him. "Next follows the Nihsreyasâdâna, i.e., the accepting of the preeminence of breath or life by the other gods. The deities, speech, eye, ear, mind, contending with each for who was the best, went out of this body, and the body lay without breathing, withered, like a log of wood. Then speech went into it, but speaking by speech, it lay still. Then the eye went into it, but speaking by speech, and seeing by the eye, it lay still. Then the ear went into it, but speaking by speech, seeing by the eye, hearing by the ear, it lay still. Then mind went into it, but speaking by speech, seeing by the eye, hearing by the ear, thinking by the mind, it lay still. Then breath went into it, and thence it rose at once. All these deities, having recognized the preeminence in life, and having comprehended life alone as the conscious self, went out of this body with all these five different kinds of life, and resting in the air, knowing that life had entered the air and merged in the ether, they went to heaven. And in the same manner he who knows this, having recognized the preëminence in prâna, and having comprehended life alone as the conscious self, goes out of this body with all these, does no longer believe in this body, and resting in the air, and merged in the ether, he goes to heaven: he goes to where those gods are. And having reached this heaven, he, who knows this, becomes immortal with that immortality which those gods enjoy. "Next follows the father's tradition to the son, and thus they explain it. The father, when going to depart, calls his son, after having strewn the house with fresh grass, and having laid the sacrificial fire, and having placed near it a pot of water with a jug, full of rice, himself covered with a new cloth, and dressed in white. He places himself above his son, touching his organs with his own organs, or he may deliver the tradition to him while he sits before him. Then he delivers it to him. The father says: 'Let me place my speech in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy speech in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my scent in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy scent in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my eye in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy eye in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my ear in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy ear in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my tastes of food in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy tastes of food in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my actions in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy actions in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my pleasure and pain in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy pleasure and pain in me.' The father says: 'Let me place happiness, joy, and offspring in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy happiness, joy, and offspring in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my walking in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy walking in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my mind in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy mind in me.' The father says: 'Let me place my knowledge in thee.' The son says: 'I take thy knowledge in me.' But if the father is very ill, he may say shortly: Let me place my spirits in thee,' and the son: 'I take thy spirits in me.' "Then the son walks round his father, keeping his right side towards him, and goes away. The father calls after him: 'May fame, glory of countenance, and honor always follow thee.' Then the other looks back over his left shoulder, covering himself with his hand or the hem of his garment, saying: 'Obtain the heavenly worlds and all desires.' "If the father recovers, let him be under the authority of his son, or let him wander about as an ascetic. But if he departs, then let them despatch him, as he ought to be despatched, yea, as he ought to be despatched." LIFE AND CONSCIOUSNESS Pratardana, the son of Divodâsa, King of Kâsî, came by means of fighting and strength to the beloved abode of Indra. Indra said to him: "Pratardana, let me give you a boon to choose." And Pratardana answered: "Do you yourself choose that boon for me which you deem most beneficial for a man." Indra said to him: "No one who chooses, chooses for another; choose thyself." Then Pratardana replied: "Then that boon to choose is no boon for me." Then, however, Indra did not swerve from the truth, for Indra is truth. Indra said to him: "Know me only; that is what I deem most beneficial for man, that he should know me. I slew the three-headed son of Tvashtri; I delivered the Arunmukhas, the devotees, to the wolves; breaking many treaties, I killed the people of Prahlâda in heaven, the people of Puloma in the sky, the people of Kâlakañga on earth. And not one hair of me was harmed there. And he who knows me thus, by no deed of his is his life harmed: not by the murder of his mother, not by the murder of his father, not by theft, not by the killing of a Brahman. If he is going to commit a sin, the bloom does not depart from his face. I am prâna, meditate on me as the conscious self, as life, as immortality. Life is prâna, prâna is life. Immortality is prâna, prâna is immortality. As long as prâna dwells in this body, so long surely there is life. By prâna he obtains immortality in the other world, by knowledge true conception. He who meditates on me as life and immortality, gains his full life in this world, and obtains in the Svarga world immortality and indestructibility." Pratardana said: "Some maintain here, that the prânas become one, for otherwise no one could at the same time make known a name by speech, see a form with the eye, hear a sound with the ear, think a thought with the mind. After having become one, the prânas perceive all these together, one by one. While speech speaks, all prânas speak after it. While the eye sees, all prânas see after it. While the ear hears, all prânas hear after it. While the mind thinks, all prânas think after it. While the prâna breathes, all prânas breathe after it." "Thus it is indeed," said Indra, "but nevertheless there is a preëminence among the prânas. Man lives deprived of speech, for we see dumb people. Man lives deprived of sight, for we see blind people. Man lives deprived of hearing, for we see deaf people. Man lives deprived of mind, for we see infants. Man lives deprived of his arms, deprived of his legs, for we see it thus. But prâna alone is the conscious self, and having laid hold of this body, it makes it rise up. Therefore it is said, 'Let man worship it alone as uktha.' What is prâna, that is pragñâ, or self-consciousness; what is pragñâ (self-consciousness), that is prâna, for together they live in this body, and together they go out of it. Of that, this is the evidence, this is the understanding. When a man, being thus asleep, sees no dream whatever, he becomes one with that prâna alone. Then speech goes to him, when he is absorbed in prâna, with all names, the eye with all forms, the ear with all sounds, the mind with all thoughts. And when he awakes, then, as from a burning fire sparks proceed in all directions; thus from that self the prânas proceed, each towards its place: from the prânas the gods, from the gods the worlds. "Of this, this is the proof, this is the understanding. When a man is thus sick, going to die, falling into weakness and faintness, they say: 'His thought has departed, he hears not, he sees not, he speaks not, he thinks not.' Then he becomes one with that prâna alone. Then speech goes to him who is absorbed in prâna, with all names, the eye with all forms, the ear with all sounds, the mind with all thoughts. And when he departs from this body, he departs together with all these. "Speech gives up to him who is absorbed in prâna all names, so that by speech he obtains all names. The nose gives up to him all odors, so that by scent he obtains all odors. The eye gives up to him all forms, so that by the eye he obtains all forms. The ear gives up to him all sounds, so that by the ear he obtains all sounds. The mind gives up to him all thoughts, so that by the mind he obtains all thoughts. This is the complete absorption in prâna. And what is prâna is pragñâ, or self-consciousness; what is pragñâ, is prâna. For together do these two live in the body, and together do they depart. "Now we shall explain how all things become one in that self-consciousness. Speech is one portion taken out of pragñâ, or self-conscious knowledge: the word is its object, placed outside. The nose is one portion taken out of it, the odor is its object, placed outside. The eye is one portion taken out of it, the form is its object, placed outside. The ear is one portion taken out of it, the sound is its object, placed outside. The tongue is one portion taken out of it, the taste of food is its object, placed outside. The two hands are one portion taken out of it, their action is their object, placed outside. The body is one portion taken out of it, its pleasure and pain are its object, placed outside. The organ is one portion taken out of it, happiness, joy, and offspring are its object, placed outside. The two feet are one portion taken out of it, movements are their object, placed outside. Mind is one portion taken out of it, thoughts and desires are its object, placed outside. "Having by self-conscious knowledge taken possession of speech, he obtains by speech all words. Having taken possession of the nose, he obtains all odors. Having taken possession of the eye, he obtains all forms. Having taken possession of the ear, he obtains all sounds. Having taken possession of the tongue, he obtains all tastes of food. Having taken possession of the two hands, he obtains all actions. Having taken possession of the body, he obtains pleasure and pain. Having taken possession of the organ, he obtains happiness, joy, and offspring. Having taken possession of the two feet, he obtains all movements. Having taken possession of mind, he obtains all thoughts. "For without self-consciousness speech does not make known to the self any word.[20] 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that word.' Without self-consciousness the nose does not make known any odor. 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that odor.' Without self-consciousness the eye does not make known any form. 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that form.' Without self-consciousness the ear does not make known any sound. 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that sound.' Without self-consciousness the tongue does not make known any taste. 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that taste.' Without self-consciousness the two hands do not make known any act. 'Our mind was absent,' they say, 'we did not perceive any act.' Without self-consciousness the body does not make known pleasure or pain. 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that pleasure or pain.' Without self-consciousness the organ does not make known happiness, joy, or offspring. 'My mind was absent,' he says, 'I did not perceive that happiness, joy, or offspring.' Without self-consciousness the two feet do not make known any movement. 'Our mind was absent,' they say, 'we did not perceive that movement.' Without self-consciousness no thought succeeds, nothing can be known that is to be known. "Let no man try to find out what speech is, let him know the speaker. Let no man try to find out what odor is, let him know him who smells. Let no man try to find out what form is, let him know the seer. Let no man try to find out what sound is, let him know the hearer. Let no man try to find out the tastes of food, let him know the knower of tastes. Let no man try to find out what action is, let him know the agent. Let no man try to find out what pleasure and pain are, let him know the knower of pleasure and pain. Let no man try to find out what happiness, joy, and offspring are, let him knew the knower of happiness, joy, and offspring. Let no man try to find out what movement is, let him know the mover. Let no man try to find out what mind is, let him know the thinker. These ten objects (what is spoken, smelled, seen, felt) have reference to self-consciousness; the ten subjects (speech, the senses, mind) have reference to objects. If there were no objects, there would be no subjects; and if there were no subjects, there would be no objects. For on either side alone nothing could be achieved. But the self of pragñâ, consciousness, and prâna, life, is not many, but one. For as in a car the circumference of a wheel is placed on the spokes, and the spokes on the nave, thus are these objects, as a circumference, placed on the subjects as spokes, and the subjects on the prâna. And that prâna, the living and breathing power, indeed is the self of pragñâ, the self-conscious self: blessed, imperishable, immortal. He does not increase by a good action, nor decrease by a bad action. For the self of prâna and pragñâ makes him, whom he wishes to lead up from these worlds, do a good deed; and the same makes him, whom he wishes to lead down from these worlds, do a bad deed. And he is the guardian of the world, he is the king of the world, he is the lord of the universe--and he is my (Indra's) self; thus let it be known, yea, thus let it be known!" [Footnote 14: The question put by Kitra to Svetaketu is very obscure, and was probably from the first intended to be obscure in its very wording. Kitra wished to ask, doubtless, concerning the future life. That future life is reached by two roads; one leading to the world of Brahman (the conditioned), beyond which there lies one other stage only, represented by knowledge of, and identity with the unconditioned Brahman; the other leading to the world of the fathers, and from thence, after the reward of good works has been consumed, back to a new round of mundane existence. There is a third road for creatures which live and die, worms, insects, and creeping things, but they are of little consequence. Now it is quite clear that the knowledge which King Kitra possesses, and which Svetaketu does not possess, is that of the two roads after death, sometimes called the right and the left, or the southern and northern roads. The northern or left road, called also the path of the Devas, passes on from light and day to the bright half of the moon; the southern or right road, called also the path of the fathers, passes on from smoke and night to the dark half of the moon. Both roads therefore meet in the moon, but diverge afterwards. While the northern road passes by the six months when the sun moves towards the north, through the sun, moon, and the lightning to the world of Brahman, the southern passes by the six months when the sun moves towards the south, to the world of the fathers, the ether, and the moon. The great difference, however, between the two roads is, that while those who travel on the former do not return again to a new life on earth, but reach in the end a true knowledge of the unconditioned Brahman, those who pass on to the world of the fathers and the moon return to earth to be born again and again. The speculations on the fate of the soul after death seem to have been peculiar to the royal families of India, while the Brahmans dwelt more on what may be called the shorter cut, a knowledge of Brahman as the true Self. To know, with them, was to be, and, after the dissolution of the body, they looked forward to immediate emancipation, without any further wanderings.] [Footnote 15: Who knows the conditioned and mythological form of Brahman as here described, sitting on the couch.] [Footnote 16: In the first chapter it was said, "He approaches the couch Amitaugas, that is prâna" (breath, spirit, life). Therefore having explained in the first chapter the knowledge of the couch (of Brahman), the next subject to be explained is the knowledge of prâna, the living spirit, taken for a time as Brahman, or the last cause of everything.] [Footnote 17: Speech is uncertain, and has to be checked by the eye. The eye is uncertain, taking mother of pearl for silver, and must be checked by the ear. The ear is uncertain, and must be checked by the mind, for unless the mind is attentive, the ear hears not. The mind, lastly, depends on the spirit, for without spirit there is no mind.] [Footnote 18: The vital spirits are called the highest treasure, because a man surrenders everything to preserve his vital spirits or his life.] [Footnote 19: This is one of the earliest, if not the earliest mention of the yagñopavîta, the sacred cord as worn over the left shoulder for sacrificial purposes.] [Footnote 20: Professor Cowell has translated a passage from the commentary which is interesting as showing that its author and the author of the Upanishads too had a clear conception of the correlative nature of knowledge. "The organ of sense," he says, "cannot exist without pragñâ (self-consciousness), nor the objects of sense be obtained without the organ, therefore--on the principle, that when one thing cannot exist without another, that thing is said to be identical with the other--as the cloth, for instance, being never perceived without the threads, is identical with them, or the (false perception of) silver being never found without the mother of pearl is identical with it, so the objects of sense being never found without the organs are identical with them, and the organs being never found without pragñâ (self-consciousness) are identical with it."] SELECTIONS FROM THE KORAN Translation by George Sale INTRODUCTION The importance of the "Koran" lies in the fact that it is a religious book of the East, read and stored in the memory of a hundred millions of people of different races and civilizations, inhabiting countries extending from the western borders of China to the pillars of Hercules. It is considered by the Mohammedan to contain all the knowledge and all the literature necessary for men. When it was demanded of Mohammed to confirm the authority of his mission by some work of wonder, he pointed to the "Koran," and exclaimed, "Behold the greatest miracle of all." The learned men of Alexandria asked the Caliph Omar to give to them the vast library at Alexandria. "If those books," he replied, "contain anything which is contrary to the 'Koran' they deserve to be destroyed. If they contain what is written in the 'Koran,' they are unnecessary." He ordered them to be distributed among the baths of the city, to serve as fuel for their furnaces. The composition of the "Koran" is all the work of Mohammed. He himself claimed that he spoke merely as the oracle of God. The commands and injunctions are in the first person, as if spoken by the Divine Being. The passionate enthusiasm and religious earnestness of the prophet are plainly seen in these strange writings. Sometimes, however, he sinks into the mere Arabian story-teller, whose object is the amusement of his people. He is not a poet, but when he deals with the unity of God, with the beneficence of the Divine Being, with the wonders of Nature, with the beauty of resignation, he exhibits a glowing rhetoric, a power of gorgeous imagery, of pathos, and religious devotion, that make the "Koran" the first written work in the Arabian tongue. If we take Mohammed's own account of the composition of the volume, we must believe that the completed "Koran" existed from all eternity, on a tablet preserved in the upper heavens. Once a year, during the period of the prophet's active work, fragments of this tablet were brought down by the angel Gabriel to the lower heavens of the moon, and imparted to the prophet, who was periodically transported to that celestial sphere. The words were recited by the angel, and dictated by the prophet to his scribe. These detached scraps were written on the ribs of palm leaves, or the shoulder-blades of sheep, or parchment, and were stored in a chest, in which they were kept until the caliphat of Abu Bekr, in the seventh century, when they were collected in one volume. Such marvels of revelation were made at different periods to the prophet, and were called Surahs, and formed separate chapters in the Koran as we have it to-day. Some of these Surahs contradict what had previously been uttered by the prophet, but this discrepancy is obviated by the expedient of what is called "abrogation," and the more recent utterances were held to supersede and rescind those which were contradictory to it in the earlier revelation. It may well be believed that these sibylline leaves of Mohammedanism make up a heterogeneous jumble of varied elements. Some of the chapters are long, others are short; now the prophet seems to be caught up by a whirlwind, and is brought face to face with ineffable mysteries, of which he speaks in the language of rhapsody. At other times he is dry and prosaic, indulging in wearisome iterations, and childish trivialities. Now he assumes the plain, clear voice of the law-giver, or raises his accents into the angry threatenings of the relentless and bloodthirsty fanatic. Yet throughout the whole volume there is a strain of religious resignation, of trust in God, of hopefulness under adversity, of kindliness towards men, which reveal a nobility of ideal, a simplicity and purity in the conception of the Divine Being, and the relations of human life, which make the work not without inspiration, even to the thoughtful man of the nineteenth century. The Koran must always be considered one of the most potent of religious books, one of the greatest documents which reveal the struggle of the human heart after a knowledge of God, and of faithful accomplishment of the Divine will. Perhaps the essence of the work as furnishing a philosophy of life, is contained in the axioms of Abu Bekr, one of the most exalted in character of Mohammed's successors. "Good actions," he says, "are a guard against the blows of adversity." And again, "Death is the easiest of all things after it, and the hardest of all things before it." To which we may add the sentence of Ali, "Riches without God are the greatest poverty and misery." There are twenty-nine chapters of the "Koran," which begin with certain letters of the alphabet: some with a single one, others with more. These letters the Mohammedans believe to be the peculiar marks of the "Koran," and to conceal several profound mysteries, the certain understanding of which, the more intelligent confess, has not been communicated to any mortal, their prophet only excepted. Notwithstanding which, some will take the liberty of guessing at their meaning by that species of Cabbala called by the Jews, Notarikon, and suppose the letters to stand for as many words expressing the names and attributes of God, his works, ordinances, and decrees; and therefore these mysterious letters, as well as the verses themselves, seem in the "Koran" to be called signs. Others explain the intent of these letters from their nature or organ, or else from their value in numbers, according to another species of the Jewish Cabbala called Gematria; the uncertainty of these conjectures sufficiently appears from their disagreement. Thus, for example, five chapters, one of which is the second, begin with the letters A.L.M., which some imagine to stand for _Allah latîf magîd_--"God is gracious and to be glorified"--or, _Ana li minni_--"to me and from me"--belongs all perfection, and proceeds all good; or else for _Ana Allah âlam_--"I am the most wise God"--taking the first letter to mark the beginning of the first word, the second the middle of the second word, and the third the last of the third word: or for "Allah, Gabriel, Mohammed," the author, revealer, and preacher of the "Koran." Others say that as the letter A belongs to the lower part of the throat, the first of the organs of speech; L to the palate, the middle organ: and M to the lips, which are the last organs; so these letters signify that God is the beginning, middle, and end, or ought to be praised in the beginning, middle, and end of all our words and actions; or, as the total value of those three letters in numbers is seventy-one, they signify that in the space of so many years, the religion preached in the "Koran" should be fully established. The conjecture of a learned Christian is, at least, as certain as any of the former, who supposes those letters were set there by the amanuensis, for _Amar li Mohammed_--"at the command of Mohammed"--as the five letters prefixed to the nineteenth chapter seem to be there written by a Jewish scribe, for _Cob yaas_--"thus he commanded." The general contents of the "Koran" may be divided under three heads: First, precepts and laws in matters of religion, such as prayer, fasting, pilgrimage; there are laws also given in the affairs of the civil life, such as marriage, the possession and bequeathing of property, and the administration of justice. The second division would include histories, which consist in a great part of incidents from the Bible, as Christians know it. Mohammed probably picked up a good deal of hearsay knowledge in this department from Jews and Christians. Some of his historical incidents are purely fabulous, others are perversions or falsifications of the Scriptural narrative. This portion of the "Koran," interesting and anecdotic as it is, is the least satisfactory of the work, and shows the writer in his true ignorance, and disregard for historic verification. When, for instance, he confounds Miriam, the sister of Moses, with Mary the Mother of Christ, he shows himself lost in truly Oriental clouds of mystic error. The third element in the "Koran" is a large body of admonitions, many of them addressed to the outside world, and to unbelievers who are exhorted to accept the creed that there is one God and Mohammed is His prophet. War is put forth as a legitimate method of propagating the faith. The duties of life, such as justice, temperance, resignation and industry, are enforced. Hell is threatened to infidels and immoral people; and from whatever sources the writer derived his materials there can be no doubt that the moral scheme he promulgated was in every sense a revelation to the degraded idolaters and fire-worshippers, amongst whom he discharged the mission of his life. Mohammed preached what he called the truth, with the sword in one hand and the "Koran" in the other. But the empire established by the sword would long since have crumbled into dust like that of Alexander or Augustus, unless the "Koran" had fixed its teaching in the minds of the conquered, had regulated by its precepts their social and political life, had supported and exalted their faith with the doctrine of one Almighty and beneficent God; had cheered them with the hope of a Resurrection, and illuminated their minds with the vision of a Paradise, the grossest of whose delights were afterwards to be interpreted by Arabic commentators in accordance with the highest spiritual capabilities of the human race. E.W. MOHAMMED AND MOHAMMEDANISM By Thomas Carlyle From the first rude times of Paganism among the Scandinavians in the North, we advance to a very different epoch of religion, among a very different people: Mohammedanism among the Arabs. A great change; what a change and progress is indicated here, in the universal condition and thoughts of men! The Hero is not now regarded as a God among his fellow-men; but as one God-inspired, as a Prophet. It is the second phasis of Hero-worship: the first or oldest, we may say, has passed away without return; in the history of the world there will not again be any man, never so great, whom his fellow-men will take for a god. Nay we might rationally ask, Did any set of human beings ever really think the man they _saw_ there standing beside them a god, the maker of this world? Perhaps not: it was usually some man they remembered, or _had_ seen. But neither can this any more be. The Great Man is not recognized henceforth as a god any more. It was a rude gross error, that of counting the Great Man a god. Yet let us say that it is at all times difficult to know _what_ he is, or how to account of him and receive him! The most significant feature in the history of an epoch is the manner it has of welcoming a Great Man. Ever, to the true instincts of men, there is something godlike in him. Whether they shall take him to be a god, to be a prophet, or what they shall take him to be? that is ever a grand question; by their way of answering that, we shall see, as through a little window, into the very heart of these men's spiritual condition. For at bottom the Great Man, as he comes from the hand of Nature, is ever the same kind of thing: Odin, Luther, Johnson, Burns; I hope to make it appear that these are all originally of one stuff; that only by the world's reception of them, and the shapes they assume, are they so immeasurably diverse. The worship of Odin astonishes us,--to fall prostrate before the Great Man, into _deliquium_ of love and wonder over him, and feel in their hearts that he was a denizen of the skies, a god! This was imperfect enough: but to welcome, for example, a Burns as we did, was that what we can call perfect? The most precious gift that Heaven can give to the Earth; a man of "genius" as we call it; the Soul of a Man actually sent down from the skies with a God's-message to us,--this we waste away as an idle artificial firework, sent to amuse us a little, and sink it into ashes, wreck, and ineffectuality: _such_ reception of a Great Man I do not call very perfect either! Looking into the heart of the thing, one may perhaps call that of Burns a still uglier phenomenon, betokening still sadder imperfections in mankind's ways, than the Scandinavian method itself! To fall into mere unreasoning _deliquium_ of love and admiration, was not good; but such unreasoning, nay irrational supercilious no-love at all is perhaps still worse!--It is a thing forever changing, this of Hero-worship: different in each age, difficult to do well in any age. Indeed, the heart of the whole business of the age, one may say, is to do it well. We have chosen Mohammed not as the most eminent Prophet; but as the one we are freest to speak of. He is by no means the truest of Prophets; but I do esteem him a true one. Further, as there is no danger of our becoming, any of us, Mohammedans, I mean to say all the good of him I justly can. It is the way to get at his secret: let us try to understand what _he_ meant with the world; what the world meant and means with him, will then be a more answerable question. Our current hypothesis about Mohammed, that he was a scheming Impostor, a Falsehood incarnate, that his religion is a mere mass of quackery and fatuity, begins really to be now untenable to any one. The lies, which well-meaning zeal has heaped round this man, are disgraceful to ourselves only. When Pococke inquired of Grotius where the proof was of that story of the pigeon, trained to pick peas from Mohammed's ear, and pass for an angel dictating to him, Grotius answered that there was no proof! It is really time to dismiss all that. The word this man spoke has been the life-guidance now of a hundred-and-eighty millions of men these twelve-hundred years. These hundred-and-eighty millions were made by God as well as we. A greater number of God's creatures believe in Mohammed's word at this hour than in any other word whatever. Are we to suppose that it was a miserable piece of spiritual legerdemain, this which so many creatures of the Almighty have lived by and died by? I, for my part, cannot form any such supposition. I will believe most things sooner than that. One would be entirely at a loss what to think of this world at all, if quackery so grew and were sanctioned here. Alas, such theories are very lamentable. If we would attain to knowledge of anything in God's true Creation, let us disbelieve them wholly! They are the product of an Age of Scepticism; they indicate the saddest spiritual paralysis, and mere death-life of the souls of men: more godless theory, I think, was never promulgated in this Earth. A false man found a religion? Why, a false man cannot build a brick house! If he do not know and follow _truly_ the properties of mortar, burnt clay and what else he works in, it is no house that he makes, but a rubbish-heap. It will not stand for twelve centuries, to lodge a hundred-and-eighty millions; it will fall straightway. A man must conform himself to Nature's laws, _be_ verily in communion with Nature and the truth of things, or Nature will answer him, No, not at all! Speciosities are specious--ah me!--a Cagliostro, many Cagliostros, prominent world-leaders, do prosper by their quackery, for a day. It is like a forged bank-note; they get it passed out of _their_ worthless hands: others, not they, have to smart for it. Nature bursts-up in fire-flames, French Revolutions and suchlike, proclaiming with terrible veracity that forged notes are forged. But of a Great Man especially, of him I will venture to assert that it is incredible he should have been other than true. It seems to me the primary foundation of him, and of all that can lie in him, this. No Mirabeau, Napoleon, Burns, Cromwell, no man adequate to do anything, but is first of all in right earnest about it; what I call a sincere man. I should say _sincerity_, a deep, great, genuine sincerity, is the first characteristic of all men in any way heroic. Not the sincerity that calls itself sincere; ah no, that is a very poor matter indeed;--a shallow braggart conscious sincerity; oftenest self-conceit mainly. The Great Man's sincerity is of the kind he cannot speak of, is not conscious of; nay, I suppose, he is conscious rather of _in_sincerity; for what man can walk accurately by the law of truth for one day? No, the Great Man does not boast himself sincere, far from that; perhaps does not ask himself if he is so: I would say rather, his sincerity does not depend on himself; he cannot help being sincere! The great Fact of Existence is great to him. Fly as he will, he cannot get out of the awful presence of this Reality. His mind is so made; he is great by that, first of all. Fearful and wonderful, real as Life, real as Death, is this Universe to him. Though all men should forget its truth, and walk in a vain show, he cannot. At all moments the Flame-image glares-in upon him; undeniable, there, there!--I wish you to take this as my primary definition of a Great Man. A little man may have this, it is competent to all men that God has made: but a Great Man cannot be without it. Such a man is what we call an _original_ man; he comes to us at first-hand. A messenger he, sent from the Infinite Unknown with tidings to us. We may call him Poet, Prophet, God;--in one way or other, we all feel that the words he utters are as no other man's words. Direct from the Inner Fact of things:--he lives, and has to live, in daily communion with that. Hearsays cannot hide it from him; he is blind, homeless, miserable, following hearsays; _it_ glares-in upon him. Really his utterances, are they not a kind of "revelation";--what we must call such for want of other name? It is from the heart of the world that he comes; he is portion of the primal reality of things. God has made many revelations: but this man too, has not God made him, the latest and newest of all? The "inspiration of the Almighty giveth _him_ understanding": we must listen before all to him. This Mohammed, then, we will in no wise consider as an Inanity and Theatricality, a poor conscious ambitious schemer; we cannot conceive him so. The rude message he delivered was a real one withal; an earnest confused voice from the unknown Deep. The man's words were not false, nor his workings here below; no Inanity and Simulacrum; a fiery mass of Life cast-up from the great bosom of Nature herself. To _kindle_ the world; the world's Maker had ordered it so. Neither can the faults, imperfections, insincerities even, of Mohammed, if such were never so well proved against him, shake this primary fact about him. On the whole, we make too much of faults; the details of the business hide the real centre of it. Faults? The greatest of faults, I should say, is to be conscious of none. Readers of the Bible above all, one would think, might know better. Who is called there "the man according to God's own heart"? David, the Hebrew King, had fallen into sins enough; blackest crimes; there was no want of sins. And thereupon the unbelievers sneer and ask, Is this your man according to God's heart? The sneer, I must say, seems to me but a shallow one. What are faults, what are the outward details of a life; if the inner secret of it, the remorse, temptations, true, often-baffled, never-ended struggle of it, be forgotten? "It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps." Of all acts, is not, for a man, _repentance_ the most divine? The deadliest sin, I say, were that same supercilious consciousness of no sin;--that is death; the heart so conscious is divorced from sincerity, humility, and fact; is dead: it is "pure" as dead dry sand is pure. David's life and history, as written for us in those Psalms of his, I consider to be the truest emblem ever given of a man's moral progress and warfare here below. All earnest souls will ever discern in it the faithful struggle of an earnest human soul towards what is good and best. Struggle often baffled, sore baffled, down as into entire wreck; yet a struggle never ended; ever, with tears, repentance, true unconquerable purpose, begun anew. Poor human nature! Is not a man's walking, in truth, always that: "a succession of falls"? Man can do no other. In this wild element of a Life, he has to struggle onwards; now fallen, deep-abased; and ever, with tears, repentance, with bleeding heart, he has to rise again, struggle again still onwards. That his struggle _be_ a faithful unconquerable one: that is the question of questions. We will put-up with many sad details, if the soul of it were true. Details by themselves will never teach us what it is. I believe we misestimate Mohammed's faults even as faults: but the secret of him will never be got by dwelling there. We will leave all this behind us; and assuring ourselves that he did mean some true thing, ask candidly what it was or might be. These Arabs Mohammed was born among are certainly a notable people. Their country itself is notable; the fit habitation for such a race. Savage inaccessible rock-mountains, great grim deserts, alternating with beautiful strips of verdure: wherever water is, there is greenness, beauty; odoriferous balm-shrubs, date-trees, frankincense-trees. Consider that wide waste horizon of sand, empty, silent, like a sand-sea, dividing habitable place from habitable. You are all alone there, left alone with the Universe; by day a fierce sun blazing down on it with intolerable radiance; by night the great deep Heaven with its stars. Such a country is fit for a swift-handed, deep-hearted race of men. There is something most agile, active, and yet most meditative, enthusiastic in the Arab character. The Persians are called the French of the East; we will call the Arabs Oriental Italians. A gifted noble people; a people of wild strong feelings, and of iron restraint over these: the characteristic of noblemindedness, of genius. The wild Bedouin welcomes the stranger to his tent, as one having right to all that is there; were it his worst enemy, he will slay his foal to treat him, will serve him with sacred hospitality for three days, will set him fairly on his way;--and then, by another law as sacred, kill him if he can. In words too, as in action. They are not a loquacious people, taciturn rather; but eloquent, gifted when they do speak. An earnest, truthful kind of men. They are, as we know, of Jewish kindred: but with that deadly terrible earnestness of the Jews they seem to combine something graceful, brilliant, which is not Jewish. They had "poetic contests" among them before the time of Mohammed. Sale says, at Ocadh, in the South of Arabia, there were yearly fairs, and there, when the merchandising was done, Poets sang for prizes:--the wild people gathered to hear that. One Jewish quality these Arabs manifest; the outcome of many or of all high qualities: what we may call religiosity. From of old they had been zealous worshippers, according to their light. They worshipped the stars, as Sabeans; worshipped many natural objects--recognized them as symbols, immediate manifestations, of the Maker of Nature. It was wrong; and yet not wholly wrong. All God's works are still in a sense symbols of God. Do we not, as I urged, still account it a merit to recognize a certain inexhaustible significance, "poetic beauty" as we name it, in all natural objects whatsoever? A man is a poet, and honored, for doing that, and speaking or singing it--a kind of diluted worship. They had many Prophets, these Arabs; Teachers each to his tribe, each according to the light he had. But indeed, have we not from of old the noblest of proofs, still palpable to every one of us, of what devoutness and noblemindedness had dwelt in these rustic thoughtful peoples? Biblical critics seem agreed that our own _Book of Job_ was written in that region of the world. I call that, apart from all theories about it, one of the grandest things ever written with pen. One feels, indeed, as if it were not Hebrew; such a noble universality, different from noble patriotism or sectarianism, reigns in it. A noble Book; all men's Book! It is our first, oldest statement of the never-ending Problem,--man's destiny, and God's ways with him here in this earth. And all in such free flowing outlines; grand in its sincerity, in its simplicity; in its epic melody, and repose of reconcilement. There is the seeing eye, the mildly understanding heart. So _true_ everyway; true eyesight and vision for all things; material things no less than spiritual: the Horse--"hast thou clothed his neck with _thunder_?"--he "_laughs_ at the shaking of the spear!" Such living likenesses were never since drawn. Sublime sorrow, sublime reconciliation; oldest choral melody as of the heart of mankind;--so soft, and great; as the summer midnight, as the world with its seas and stars! There is nothing written, I think, in the Bible or out of it, of equal literary merit.-- To the idolatrous Arabs one of the most ancient universal objects of worship was that Black Stone, still kept in the building called Caabah at Mecca. Diodorus Siculus mentions this Caabah in a way not to be mistaken, as the oldest, most honored temple in his time; that is, some half-century before our Era. Silvestre de Sacy says there is some likelihood that the Black Stone is an aerolite. In that case, some man might _see_ it fall out of Heaven! It stands now beside the Well Zemzem; the Caabah is built over both. A Well is in all places a beautiful affecting object, gushing out like life from the hard earth;--still more so in those hot dry countries, where it is the first condition of being. The Well Zemzem has its name from the bubbling sound of the waters, _zem-zem_; they think it is the Well which Hagar found with her little Ishmael in the wilderness: the aerolite and it have been sacred now, and had a Caabah over them, for thousands of years. A curious object, that Caabah! There it stands at this hour, in the black cloth-covering the Sultan sends it yearly; "twenty-seven cubits high;" with circuit, with double circuit of pillars, with festoon rows of lamps and quaint ornaments: the lamps will be lighted again _this_ night--to glitter again under the stars. An authentic fragment of the oldest Past. It is the _Keblah_ of all Moslem: from Delhi all onwards to Morocco, the eyes of innumerable praying men are turned towards _it_, five times, this day and all days: one of the notablest centres in the Habitation of Men. It had been from the sacredness attached to this Caabah Stone and Hagar's Well, from the pilgrimings of all tribes of Arabs thither, that Mecca took its rise as a Town. A great town once, though much decayed now. It has no natural advantage for a town; stands in a sandy hollow amid bare barren hills, at a distance from the sea; its provisions, its very bread, have to be imported. But so many pilgrims needed lodgings: and then all places of pilgrimage do, from the first, become places of trade. The first day pilgrims meet, merchants have also met: where men see themselves assembled for one object, they find that they can accomplish other objects which depend on meeting together. Mecca became the Fair of all Arabia. And thereby indeed the chief staple and warehouse of whatever Commerce there was between the Indian and the Western countries, Syria, Egypt, even Italy. It had at one time a population of 100,000; buyers, forwarders of those Eastern and Western products; importers for their own behoof of provisions and corn. The government was a kind of irregular aristocratic republic, not without a touch of theocracy. Ten Men of a chief tribe, chosen in some rough way, were Governors of Mecca, and Keepers of the Caabah. The Koreish were the chief tribe in Mohammed's time; his own family was of that tribe. The rest of the Nation, fractioned and cut-asunder by deserts, lived under similar rude patriarchal governments by one or several: herdsmen, carriers, traders, generally robbers too; being oftenest at war one with another, or with all: held together by no open bond, if it were not this meeting at the Caabah, where all forms of Arab Idolatry assembled in common adoration;--held mainly by the _inward_ indissoluble bond of a common blood and language. In this way had the Arabs lived for long ages, unnoticed by the world; a people of great qualities, unconsciously waiting for the day when they should become notable to all the world. Their Idolatries appear to have been in a tottering state; much was getting into confusion and fermentation among them. Obscure tidings of the most important Event ever transacted in this world, the Life and Death of the Divine Man in Judea, at once the symptom and cause of immeasurable change to all people in the world, had in the course of centuries reached into Arabia too; and could not but, of itself, have produced fermentation there. It was among this Arab people, so circumstanced, in the year 570 of our Era, that the man Mohammed was born. He was of the family of Hashem, of the Koreish tribe as we said; though poor, connected with the chief persons of his country. Almost at his birth he lost his Father; at the age of six years his Mother too, a woman noted for her beauty, her worth and sense: he fell to the charge of his Grandfather, an old man, a hundred years old. A good old man: Mohammed's Father, Abdallah, had been his youngest favorite son. He saw in Mohammed, with his old life-worn eyes, a century old, the lost Abdallah come back again, all that was left of Abdallah. He loved the little orphan Boy greatly; used to say they must take care of that beautiful little Boy, nothing in their kindred was more precious than he. At his death, while the boy was still but two years old, he left him in charge to Abu Thaleb the eldest of the Uncles, as to him that now was head of the house. By this Uncle, a just and rational man as everything betokens, Mohammed was brought-up in the best Arab way. Mohammed, as he grew up, accompanied his Uncle on trading journeys and suchlike; in his eighteenth year one finds him a fighter following his Uncle in war. But perhaps the most significant of all his journeys is one we find noted as of some years' earlier date: a journey to the Fairs of Syria. The young man here first came in contact with a quite foreign world,--with one foreign element of endless moment to him: the Christian Religion. I know not what to make of that "Sergius, the Nestorian Monk," whom Abu Thaleb and he are said to have lodged with; or how much any monk could have taught one still so young. Probably enough it is greatly exaggerated, this of the Nestorian Monk. Mohammed was only fourteen; had no language but his own: much in Syria must have been a strange unintelligible whirlpool to him. But the eyes of the lad were open; glimpses of many things would doubtless be taken-in, and lie very enigmatic as yet, which were to ripen in a strange way into views, into beliefs and insights one day. These journeys to Syria were probably the beginning of much to Mohammed. One other circumstance we must not forget: that he had no school-learning; of the thing we call school-learning none at all. The art of writing was but just introduced into Arabia; it seems to be the true opinion that Mohammed never could write! Life in the Desert, with its experiences, was all his education. What of this infinite Universe he, from his dim place, with his own eyes and thoughts, could take in, so much and no more of it was he to know. Curious, if we will reflect on it, this of having no books. Except by what he could see for himself, or hear of by uncertain rumor of speech in the obscure Arabian Desert, he could know nothing. The wisdom that had been before him or at a distance from him in the world, was in a manner as good as not there for him. Of the great brother souls, flame-beacons through so many lands and times, no one directly communicates with this great soul. He is alone there, deep down in the bosom of the Wilderness; has to grow up so,--alone with Nature and his own Thoughts. But, from an early age, he had been remarked as a thoughtful man. His companions named him "_Al Amin_, the Faithful." A man of truth and fidelity; true in what he did, in what he spake and thought. They noted that _he_ always meant something. A man rather taciturn in speech; silent when there was nothing to be said; but pertinent, wise, sincere, when he did speak; always throwing light on the matter. This is the only sort of speech _worth_ speaking! Through life we find him to have been regarded as an altogether solid, brotherly, genuine man. A serious, sincere character; yet amiable, cordial, companionable, jocose even;--a good laugh in him withal: there are men whose laugh is as untrue as anything about them; who cannot laugh. One hears of Mohammed's beauty: his fine sagacious honest face, brown florid complexion, beaming black eyes;--I somehow like too that vein on the brow, which swelled-up black when he was in anger: like the "horse-shoe vein" in Scott's _Red-gauntlet_. It was a kind of feature in the Hashem family, this black swelling vein in the brow; Mahomet had it prominent, as would appear. A spontaneous, passionate, yet just, true-meaning man! Full of wild faculty, fire and light; of wild worth, all uncultured; working out his life-task in the depths of the Desert there. How he was placed with Kadijah, a rich Widow, as her Steward, and travelled in her business, again to the Fairs of Syria; how he managed all, as one can well understand, with fidelity, adroitness; how her gratitude, her regard for him grew: the story of their marriage is altogether a graceful intelligible one, as told us by the Arab authors. He was twenty-five; she forty, though still beautiful. He seems to have lived in a most affectionate, peaceable, wholesome way with this wedded benefactress; loving her truly, and her alone. It goes greatly against the impostor theory, the fact that he lived in this entirely unexceptionable, entirely quiet and commonplace way, till the heat of his years was done. He was forty before he talked of any mission from Heaven. All his irregularities, real and supposed, date from after his fiftieth year, when the good Kadijah died. All his "ambition," seemingly, had been, hitherto, to live an honest life; his "fame," the mere good opinion of neighbors that knew him, had been sufficient hitherto. Not till he was already getting old, the prurient heat of his life all burnt out, and _peace_ growing to be the chief thing this world could give him, did he start on the "career of ambition"; and, belying all his past character and existence, set-up as a wretched empty charlatan to acquire what he could now no longer enjoy! For my share, I have no faith whatever in that. Ah no: this deep-hearted Son of the Wilderness, with his beaming black eyes and open social deep soul, had other thoughts in him than ambition. A silent great soul; he was one of those who cannot _but_ be in earnest; whom Nature herself has appointed to be sincere. While others walk in formulas and hearsays, contented enough to dwell there, this man could not screen himself in formulas; he was alone with his own soul and the reality of things. The great Mystery of Existence, as I said, glared-in upon him, with its terrors, with its splendors; no hearsays could hide that unspeakable fact, "Here am I!" Such _sincerity_, as we named it, has in very truth something of divine. The word of such a man is a Voice direct from Nature's own Heart. Men do and must listen to that as to nothing else;--all else is wind in comparison. From of old, a thousand thoughts, in his pilgrimings and wanderings, had been in this man: What am I? What _is_ this unfathomable Thing I live in, which men name Universe? What is Life; what is Death? What am I to believe? What am I to do? The grim rocks of Mount Hara, of Mount Sinai, the stern sandy solitudes answered not. The great Heaven rolling silent overhead, with its blue-glancing stars, answered not. There was no answer. The man's own soul, and what of God's inspiration dwelt there, had to answer! It is the thing which all men have to ask themselves; which we too have to ask, and answer. This wild man felt it to be of _infinite_ moment; all other things of no moment whatever in comparison. The jargon of argumentative Greek Sects, vague traditions of Jews, the stupid routine of Arab Idolatry: there was no answer in these. A Hero, as I repeat, has this first distinction, which indeed we may call first and last, the Alpha and Omega of his whole Heroism, that he looks through the shows of things into _things_. Use and wont, respectable hearsay, respectable formula: all these are good, or are not good. There is something behind and beyond all these, which all these must correspond with, be the image of, or they are--_Idolatries_; "bits of black wood pretending to be God"; to the earnest soul a mockery and abomination. Idolatries never so gilded waited on by heads of the Koreish, will do nothing for this man. Though all men walk by them, what good is it? The great Reality stands glaring there upon _him_. He there has to answer it, or perish miserably. Now, even now, or else through all Eternity never! Answer it; _thou_ must find an answer.--Ambition? What could all Arabia do for this man; with the crown of Greek Heraclius, of Persian Chosroes, and all crowns in the Earth;--what could they all do for him? It was not of the Earth he wanted to hear tell; it was of the Heaven above and of the Hell beneath. All crowns and sovereignties whatsoever, where would _they_ in a few brief years be? To be Sheik of Mecca or Arabia, and have a bit of gilt wood put into your hand,--will that be one's salvation? I decidedly think, not. We will leave it altogether, this impostor hypothesis, as not credible; not very tolerable even, worthy chiefly of dismissal by us. Mohammed had been wont to retire yearly, during the month Ramadhan, into solitude and silence; as indeed was the Arab custom; a praiseworthy custom, which such a man, above all, would find natural and useful. Communing with his own heart, in the silence of the mountains; himself silent; open to the "small still voices": it was a right natural custom! Mohammed was in his fortieth year, when having withdrawn to a cavern in Mount Hara, near Mecca, during this Ramadhan, to pass the month in prayer, and meditation on those great questions, he one day told his wife Kadijah, who with his household was with him or near him this year, that by the unspeakable special favor of Heaven he had now found it all out; was in doubt and darkness no longer, but saw it all. That all these Idols and Formulas were nothing, miserable bits of wood; that there was One God in and over all; and we must leave all idols, and look to Him. That God is great; and that there is nothing else great! He is the Reality. Wooden Idols are not real; He is real. He made us at first, sustains us yet; we and all things are but the shadow of Him; a transitory garment veiling the Eternal Splendor. "_Allah akbar_," God is great;--and then also "_Islam_," that we must _submit_ to God. That our whole strength lies in resigned submission to Him, whatsoever He do to us. For this world, and for the other! The thing He sends to us, were it death and worse than death, shall be good, shall be best; we resign ourselves to God.--"If this be _Islam_," says Goethe, "do we not all live in _Islam_?" Yes, all of us that have any moral life; we all live so. It has ever been held the highest wisdom for a man not merely to submit to Necessity,--Necessity will make him submit,--but to know and believe well that the stern thing which Necessity had ordered was the wisest, the best, the thing wanted there. To cease his frantic pretension of scanning this great God's-World in his small fraction of a brain; to know that it _had_ verily, though deep beyond his soundings, a Just Law, that the soul of it was Good;--that his part in it was to conform to the Law of the Whole, and in devout silence follow that; not questioning it, obeying it as unquestionable. I say, this is yet the only true morality known. A man is right and invincible, virtuous and on the road towards sure conquest, precisely while he joins himself to the great deep Law of the World, in spite of all superficial laws, temporary appearances, profit-and-loss calculations; he is victorious while he coöperates with that great central Law, not victorious otherwise:--and surely his first chance of coöperating with it, or getting into the course of it, is to know with his whole soul that it _is_; that it is good, and alone good! This is the soul of Islam; it is properly the soul of Christianity;--for Islam is definable as a confused form of Christianity; had Christianity not been, neither had it been. Christianity also commands us, before all, to be resigned to God. We are to take no counsel with flesh-and-blood; give ear to no vain cavils, vain sorrows and wishes: to know that we know nothing; that the worst and crudest to our eyes is not what it seems; that we have to receive whatsoever befalls us as sent from God above, and say, It is good and wise, God is great! "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Islam means in its way Denial of Self, Annihilation of Self. This is yet the highest Wisdom that Heaven has revealed to our Earth. Such light had come, as it could, to illuminate the darkness of this wild Arab soul. A confused dazzling splendor as of life and Heaven, in the great darkness which threatened to be death: he called it revelation and the angel Gabriel;--who of us yet can know what to call it? It is the "inspiration of the Almighty that giveth us understanding." To _know_; to get into the truth of anything, is ever a mystic act,--of which the best Logics can but babble on the surface. "Is not Belief the true god-announcing Miracle?" says Novalis.--That Mohammed's whole soul, set in flame with this grand Truth vouchsafed him, should feel as if it were important and the only important thing, was very natural. That Providence had unspeakably honored _him_ by revealing it, saving him from death and darkness; that he therefore was bound to make known the same to all creatures: this is what was meant by "Mohammed is the Prophet of God"; this too is not without its true meaning.-- The good Kadijah, we can fancy, listened to him with wonder, with doubt: at length she answered: Yes, it was _true_ this that he said. One can fancy too the boundless gratitude of Mohammed; and how of all the kindnesses she had done him, this of believing the earnest struggling word he now spoke was the greatest. "It is certain," says Novalis, "my Conviction gains infinitely, the moment another soul will believe in it." It is a boundless favor.--He never forgot this good Kadijah. Long afterwards, Ayesha his young favorite wife, a woman who indeed distinguished herself among the Moslem, by all manner of qualities, through her whole long life; this young brilliant Ayesha was, one day, questioning him: "Now am not I better than Kadijah? She was a widow; old, and had lost her looks: you love me better than you did her?"--"No, by Allah!" answered Mohammed: "No, by Allah! She believed in me when none else would believe. In the whole world I had but one friend, and she was that!"--Seid, his Slave, also belie ed in him; these with his young Cousin Ali, Abu Thaleb's son, were his first converts. He spoke of his Doctrine to this man and that; but the most treated it with ridicule, with indifference; in three years, I think, he had gained but thirteen followers. His progress was slow enough. His encouragement to go on, was altogether the usual encouragement that such a man in such a case meets. After some three years of small success, he invited forty of his chief kindred to an entertainment; and there stood-up and told them what his pretension was: that he had this thing to promulgate abroad to all men; that it was the highest thing, the one thing: which of them would second him in that? Amid the doubt and silence of all, young Ali, as yet a lad of sixteen, impatient of the silence, started-up, and exclaimed in passionate fierce language that he would! The assembly, among whom was Abu Thaleb, Ali's Father, could not be unfriendly to Mohammed; yet the sight there, of one unlettered elderly man, with a lad of sixteen, deciding on such an enterprise against all mankind, appeared ridiculous to them; the assembly broke-up in laughter. Nevertheless it proved not a laughable thing; it was a very serious thing! As for this young Ali, one cannot but like him. A noble-minded creature, as he shows himself, now and always afterwards; full of affection, of fiery daring. Something chivalrous in him; brave as a lion; yet with a grace, a truth and affection worthy of Christian knighthood. He died by assassination in the Mosque at Bagdad; a death occasioned by his own generous fairness, confidence in the fairness of others: he said if the wound proved not unto death, they must pardon the Assassin; but if it did, then they must slay him straightway, that so they two in the same hour might appear before God, and see which side of that quarrel was the just one! Mohammed naturally gave offence to the Koreish, Keepers of the Caabah, superintendents of the Idols. One or two men of influence had joined him: the thing spread slowly, but it was spreading. Naturally he gave offence to everybody: Who is this that pretends to be wiser than we all; that rebukes us all, as mere fools and worshippers of wood! Abu Thaleb the good Uncle spoke with him: Could he not be silent about all that; believe it all for himself, and not trouble others, anger the chief men, endanger himself and them all, talking of it? Mohammed answered: If the Sun stood on his right hand and the Moon on his left, ordering him to hold his peace, he could not obey! No: there was something in this Truth he had got which was of Nature herself; equal in rank to Sun, or Moon, or whatsoever thing Nature had made. It would speak itself there, so long as the Almighty allowed it, in spite of Sun and Moon, and all Koreish and all men and things. It must do that, and could do no other. Mohammed answered so; and, they say, "burst into tears." Burst into tears: he felt that Abu Thaleb was good to him; that the task he had got was no soft, but a stern and great one. He went on speaking to who would listen to him; publishing his Doctrine among the pilgrims as they came to Mecca; gaining adherents in this place and that. Continual contradiction, hatred, open or secret danger attended him. His powerful relations protected Mohammed himself; but by and by, on his own advice, all his adherents had to quit Mecca, and seek refuge in Abyssinia over the sea. The Koreish grew ever angrier; laid plots, and swore oaths among them, to put Mohammed to death with their own hands. Abu Thaleb was dead, the good Kadijah was dead. Mohammed is not solicitous of sympathy from us; but his outlook at this time was one of the dismallest. He had to hide in caverns, escape in disguise; fly hither and thither; homeless, in continual peril of his life. More than once it seemed all-over with him; more than once it turned on a straw, some rider's horse taking fright or the like, whether Mohammed and his Doctrine had not ended there, and not been heard of at all. But it was not to end so. In the thirteenth year of his mission, finding his enemies all banded against him, forty sworn men, one out of every tribe, waiting to take his life, and no continuance possible at Mecca for him any longer, Mohammed fled to the place then called Yathreb, where he had gained some adherents; the place they now call Medina, or "_Medinat al Nabi_, the City of the Prophet," from that circumstance. It lay some 200 miles off, through rocks and deserts; not without great difficulty, in such mood as we may fancy, he escaped thither, and found welcome. The whole East dates its era from this Flight, _Hegira_ as they name it: the Year 1 of this Hegira is 622 of our Era, the fifty-third of Mohammed's life. He was now becoming an old man; his friends sinking round him one by one; his path desolate, encompassed with danger: unless he could find hope in his own heart, the outward face of things was but hopeless for him. It is so with all men in the like case. Hitherto Mohammed had professed to publish his Religion by the way of preaching and persuasion alone. But now, driven foully out of his native country, since unjust men had not only given no ear to his earnest Heaven's-message, the deep cry of his heart, but would not even let him live if he kept speaking it,--the wild Son of the Desert resolved to defend himself, like a man and Arab. If the Koreish will have it so, they shall have it. Tidings, felt to be of infinite moment to them and all men, they would not listen to these; would trample them down by sheer violence, steel and murder: well, let steel try it then! Ten years more this Mohammed had; all of fighting, of breathless impetuous toil and struggle; with what result we know. Much has been said of Mohammed's propagating his Religion by the sword. It is no doubt far nobler what we have to boast of the Christian Religion, that it propagated itself peaceably in the way of preaching and conviction. Yet withal, if we take this for an argument of the truth or falsehood of a religion, there is a radical mistake in it. The sword indeed: but where will you get your sword! Every new opinion, at its starting, is precisely in a _minority of one_. In one man's head alone, there it dwells as yet. One man alone of the whole world believes it; there is one man against all men. That _he_ take a sword, and try to propagate with that, will do little for him. You must first get your sword! On the whole, a thing will propagate itself as it can. We do not find, of the Christian Religion either, that it always disdained the sword, when once it had got one. Charlemagne's conversion of the Saxons was not by preaching. I care little about the sword: I will allow a thing to struggle for itself in this world, with any sword or tongue or implement it has, or can lay hold of. We will let it preach, and pamphleteer, and fight, and to the uttermost bestir itself, and do, beak and claws, whatsoever is in it; very sure that it will, in the long-run, conquer nothing which does not deserve to be conquered. What is better than itself, it cannot put away, but only what is worse. In this great Duel, Nature herself is umpire, and can do no wrong: the thing which is deepest-rooted in Nature, what we call _truest_, that thing and not the other will be found growing at last. Here however, in reference to much that there is in Mohammed and his success, we are to remember what an umpire Nature is; what a greatness, composure of depth and tolerance there is in her. You take wheat to cast into the Earth's bosom: your wheat may be mixed with chaff, chopped straw, barn-sweepings, dust and all imaginable rubbish; no matter: you cast it into the kind just Earth; she grows the wheat,--the whole rubbish she silently absorbs, shrouds _it_ in, says nothing of the rubbish. The yellow wheat is growing there; the good Earth is silent about all the rest,--has silently turned all the rest to some benefit too, and makes no complaint about it! So everywhere in Nature! She is true and not a lie; and yet so great, and just, and motherly in her truth. She requires of a thing only that it _be_ genuine of heart; she will protect it if so; will not, if not so. There is a soul of truth in all the things she ever gave harbor to. Alas, is not this the history of all highest Truth that comes or ever came into the world? The _body_ of them all is imperfection, an element of light _in_ darkness: to us they have to come embodied in mere Logic, in some merely _scientific_ Theorem of the Universe; which _cannot_ be complete; which cannot but be found, one day, incomplete, erroneous, and so die and disappear. The body of all Truth dies; and yet in all, I say, there is a soul which never dies; which in new and ever-nobler embodiment lives immortal as man himself! It is the way with Nature. The genuine essence of Truth never dies. That it be genuine, a voice from the great Deep of Nature, there is the point at Nature's judgment-seat. What _we_ call pure or impure, is not with her the final question. Not how much chaff is in you; but whether you have any wheat. Pure? I might say to many a man: Yes, you are pure; pure enough; but you are chaff,--insincere hypothesis, hearsay, formality; you never were in contact with the great heart of the Universe at all; you are properly neither pure nor impure; you _are_ nothing, Nature has no business with you. Mohammed's Creed we called a kind of Christianity; and really, if we look at the wild rapt earnestness with which it was believed and laid to heart, I should say a better kind than that of those miserable Syrian Sects, with their vain janglings about _Homoiousion_ and _Homoousion_, the head full of worthless noise, the heart empty and dead! The truth of it is imbedded in portentous error and falsehood; but the truth of it makes it be believed, not the falsehood: it succeeded by its truth. A bastard kind of Christianity, but a living kind; with a heartlife in it; not dead, chopping barren logic merely! Out of all that rubbish of Arab idolatries, argumentative theologies, traditions, subtleties, rumors and hypotheses of Greeks and Jews, with their idle wiredrawings, this wild man of the Desert, with his wild sincere heart, earnest as death and life, with his great flashing natural eyesight, had seen into the kernel of the matter. Idolatry is nothing: these Wooden Idols of yours, "ye rub them with oil and wax, and the flies stick on them,"--these are wood, I tell you! They can do nothing for you; they are an impotent blasphemous pretence; a horror and abomination, if ye knew them. God alone is; God alone has power; He made us, He can kill us and keep us alive: "_Allah akbar_, God is great." Understand that His will is the best for you; that howsoever sore to flesh-and-blood, you will find it the wisest, best: you are bound to take it so; in this world and in the next, you have no other thing that you can do! And now if the wild idolatrous men did believe this, and with their fiery hearts lay hold of it to do it, in what form soever it came to them, I say it was well worthy of being believed. In one form or the other, I say it is still the one thing worthy of being believed by all men. Man does hereby become the high-priest of this Temple of a World. He is in harmony with the Decrees of the Author of this World; cooperating with them, not vainly withstanding them: I know, to this day, no better definition of Duty than that same. All that is _right_ includes itself in this of cooperating with the real Tendency of the World: you succeed by this (the World's Tendency will succeed), you are good, and in the right course there. _Homoiousion, Homoousion_, vain logical jangle, then or before or at any time, may jangle itself out, and go whither and how it likes: this is the _thing_ it all struggles to mean, if it would mean anything. If it do not succeed in meaning this, it means nothing. Not that Abstractions, logical Propositions, be correctly worded or incorrectly; but that living concrete Sons of Adam do lay this to heart: that is the important point. Islam devoured all these vain jangling Sects; and I think had right to do so. It was a Reality, direct from the great Heart of Nature once more. Arab idolatries, Syrian formulas, whatsoever was not equally real, had to go up in flame,--mere dead _fuel_, in various senses, for this which was _fire_. It was during these wild warfarings and strugglings, especially after the Flight to Mecca, that Mohammed dictated at intervals his Sacred Book, which they name _Koran_, or _Reading_, "Thing to be read." This is the Work he and his disciples made so much of, asking all the world, Is not that a miracle? The Mohammedans regard their Koran with a reverence which few Christians pay even to their Bible. It is admitted everywhere as the standard of all law and all practice; the thing to be gone-upon in speculation and life: the message sent direct out of Heaven, which this earth has to conform to, and walk by; the thing to be read. Their Judges decide by it; all Moslem are bound to study it, seek in it for the light of their life. They have mosques where it is all read daily; thirty relays of priests take it up in succession, get through the whole each day. There, for twelve-hundred years, has the voice of this Book, at all moments, kept sounding through the ears and the hearts of so many men. We hear of Mohammedan Doctors that had read it seventy-thousand times! Very curious: if one sought for "discrepancies of national taste," here surely were the most eminent instance of that! We also can read the Koran; our Translation of it, by Sale, is known to be a very fair one. I must say, it is as toilsome reading as I ever undertook. A wearisome confused jumble, crude, incondite; endless iterations, long-windedness, entanglement; most crude, incondite;--insupportable stupidity, in short! Nothing but a sense of duty could carry any European through the Koran. We read in it, as we might in the State-Paper Office, unreadable masses of lumber, that perhaps we may get some glimpses of a remarkable man. It is true we have it under disadvantages: the Arabs see more method in it than we. Mohammed's followers found the Koran lying all in fractions, as it had been written-down at first promulgation; much of it, they say, on shoulder-blades of mutton flung pell-mell into a chest; and they published it, without any discoverable order as to time or otherwise;--merely trying, as would seem, and this not very strictly, to put the longest chapters first. The real beginning of it, in that way, lies almost at the end: for the earliest portions were the shortest. Read in its historical sequence it perhaps would not be so bad. Much of it, too, they say, is rhythmic; a kind of wild chanting song, in the original. This may be a great point; much perhaps has been lost in the Translation here. Yet with every allowance, one feels it difficult to see how any mortal ever could consider this Koran as a Book written in Heaven, too good for the Earth; as a well-written book, or indeed as a _book_ at all; and not a bewildered rhapsody; _written_, so far as writing goes, as badly as almost any book ever was! So much for national discrepancies, and the standard of taste. Yet I should say, it was not unintelligible how the Arabs might so love it. When once you get this confused coil of a Koran fairly off your hands, and have it behind you at a distance, the essential type of it begins to disclose itself; and in this there is a merit quite other than the literary one. If a book come from the heart, it will contrive to reach other hearts; all art and authorcraft are of small amount to that. One would say the primary character of the Koran is this of its _genuineness_, of its being a _bona-fide_ book. Prideaux, I know, and others, have represented it as a mere bundle of juggleries; chapter after chapter got-up to excuse and varnish the author's successive sins, forward his ambitions and quackeries: but really it is time to dismiss all that. I do not assert Mohammed's continual sincerity: who is continually sincere? But I confess I can make nothing of the critic, in these times, who would accuse him of deceit _prepense_; of conscious deceit generally, or perhaps at all;--still more, of living in a mere element of conscious deceit, and writing this Koran as a forger and juggler would have done! Every candid eye, I think, will read the Koran far otherwise than so. It is the confused ferment of a great rude human soul; rude, untutored, that cannot even read; but fervent, earnest, struggling vehemently to utter itself in words. With a kind of breathless intensity he strives to utter himself; the thoughts crowd on him pell-mell: for very multitude of things to say, he can get nothing said. The meaning that is in him shapes itself into no form of composition, is stated in no sequence, method, or coherence;--they are not _shaped_ at all, these thoughts of his; flung-out unshaped, as they struggle and tumble there, in their chaotic inarticulate state. We said "stupid": yet natural stupidity is by no means the character of Mohammed's Book; it is natural un-cultivation rather. The man has not studied speaking; in the haste and pressure of continual fighting, has not time to mature himself into fit speech. The panting breathless haste and vehemence of a man struggling in the thick of battle for life and salvation; this is the mood he is in! A headlong haste; for very magnitude of meaning, he cannot get himself articulated into words. The successive utterances of a soul in that mood, colored by the various vicissitudes of three-and-twenty years; now well uttered, now worse: this is the Koran. For we are to consider Mohammed, through these three-and-twenty years, as the centre of a world wholly in conflict, Battles with the Koreish and Heathen, quarrels among his own people, backslidings of his own wild heart; all this kept him in a perpetual whirl, his soul knowing rest no more. In wakeful nights, as one may fancy, the wild soul of the man, tossing amid these vortices, would hail any light of a decision for them as a veritable light from Heaven; _any_ making-up of his mind, so blessed, indispensable for him there, would seem the inspiration of a Gabriel. Forger and juggler? No, no! This great fiery heart, seething, simmering like a great furnace of thoughts, was not a juggler's. His life was a Fact to him; this God's Universe an awful Fact and Reality. He has faults enough. The man was an uncultured semi-barbarous Son of Nature, much of the Bedouin still clinging to him: we must take him for that. But for a wretched Simulacrum, a hungry Impostor without eyes or heart, practising for a mess of pottage such blasphemous swindlery, forgery of celestial documents, continual high-treason against his Maker and Self, we will not and cannot take him. Sincerity, in all senses, seems to me the merit of the Koran; what had rendered it precious to the wild Arab men. It is, after all, the first and last merit in a book; gives rise to merits of all kinds,--nay, at bottom, it alone can give rise to merit of any kind. Curiously, through these incondite masses of tradition, vituperation, complaint, ejaculation in the Koran, a vein of true direct insight, of what we might almost call poetry, is found straggling. The body of the Book is made up of mere tradition, and as it were vehement enthusiastic extempore preaching. He returns forever to the old stories of the Prophets as they went current in the Arab memory: how Prophet after Prophet, the Prophet Abraham, the Prophet Hud, the Prophet Moses, Christian and other real and fabulous Prophets, had come to this Tribe and to that, warning men of their sin; and been received by them even as he Mohammed was,--which is a great solace to him. These things he repeats ten, perhaps twenty times; again and ever again, with wearisome iteration; has never done repeating them. A brave Samuel Johnson, in his forlorn garret, might con-over the Biographies of Authors in that way! This is the great staple of the Koran. But curiously, through all this, comes ever and anon some glance as of the real thinker and seer. He has actually an eye for the world, this Mohammed: with a certain directness and rugged vigour, he brings home still, to our heart, the thing his own heart has been opened to. I make but little of his praises of Allah, which many praise; they are borrowed I suppose mainly from the Hebrew, at least they are far surpassed there. But the eye that flashes direct into the heart of things, and _sees_ the truth of them; this is to me a highly interesting object. Great Nature's own gift; which she bestows on all; but which only one in the thousand does not cast sorrowfully away: it is what I call sincerity of vision; the test of a sincere heart. Mohammed can work no miracles; he often answers impatiently: I can work no miracles. I? "I am a Public Preacher"; appointed to preach this doctrine to all creatures. Yet the world, as we can see, had really from of old been all one great miracle to him. Look over the world, says he; is it not wonderful, the work of Allah; wholly "a sign to you," if your eyes were open! This Earth, God made it for you; "appointed paths in it"; you can live in it, go to and fro on it.--The clouds in the dry country of Arabia, to Mohammed they are very wonderful: Great clouds, he says, born in the deep bosom of the Upper Immensity, where do they come from! They hang there, the great black monsters; pour-down their rain-deluges "to revive a dead earth," and grass springs, and "tall leafy palm-trees with their date-clusters hanging round. Is not that a sign?" Your cattle too,--Allah made them; serviceable dumb creatures; they change the grass into milk; you have your clothing from them, very strange creatures; they come ranking home at evening-time, "and," adds he, "and are a credit to you"! Ships also,--he talks often about ships: Huge moving mountains, they spread-out their cloth wings, go bounding through the water there, Heaven's wind driving them; anon they lie motionless, God has withdrawn the wind, they lie dead, and cannot stir! Miracles? cries he; What miracle would you have? Are not you yourselves there? God made _you_, "shaped you out of a little clay." Ye were small once; a few years ago ye were not at all. Ye have beauty, strength, thoughts, "ye have compassion on one another." Old age comes-on you, and gray hairs; your strength fades into feebleness; ye sink down, and again are not. "Ye have compassion on one another": this struck me much: Allah might have made you having no compassion on one another,--how had it been then! This is a great direct thought, a glance at first-hand into the very fact of things. Rude vestiges of poetic genius, of whatsoever is best and truest, are visible in this man. A strong untutored intellect; eyesight, heart: a strong wild man,--might have shaped himself into Poet, King, Priest, any kind of Hero. To his eyes it is forever clear that this world wholly is miraculous. He sees what, as we said once before, all great thinkers, the rude Scandinavians themselves, in one way or other, have contrived to see: That this so solid-looking material world is, at bottom, in very deed, Nothing; is a visual and tactual Manifestation of God's-power and presence,--a shadow hung-out by Him on the bosom of the void Infinite; nothing more. The mountains, he says, these great rock-mountains, they shall dissipate themselves "like clouds"; melt into the Blue as clouds do, and not be! He figures the Earth, in the Arab fashion, Sale tells us, as an immense Plain or flat Plate of ground, the mountains are set on that to _steady_ it. At the Last Day they shall disappear "like clouds"; the whole Earth shall go spinning, whirl itself off into wreck, and as dust and vapor vanish in the Inane. Allah withdraws his hand from it, and it ceases to be. The universal empire of Allah, presence everywhere of an unspeakable Power, a Splendor, and a Terror not to be named, as the true force, essence and reality, in all things whatsoever, was continually clear to this man. What a modern talks-of by the name, Forces of Nature, Laws of Nature; and does not figure as a divine thing; not even as one thing at all, but as a set of things, undivine enough,--saleable, curious, good for propelling steamships! With our Sciences and Cyclopaedias, we are apt to forget the _divineness_, in those laboratories of ours. We ought not to forget it! That once well forgotten, I know not what else were worth remembering. Most sciences, I think, were then a very dead thing; withered, contentious, empty;--a thistle in late autumn. The best science, without this, is but as the dead _timber_; it is not the growing tree and forest,--which gives ever-new timber, among other things! Man cannot _know_ either, unless he can _worship_ in some way. His knowledge is a pedantry, and dead thistle, otherwise. Much has been said and written about the sensuality of Mohammed's Religion; more than was just. The indulgences, criminal to us, which he permitted, were not of his appointment; he found them practised, unquestioned from immemorial time in Arabia; what he did was to curtail them, restrict them, not on one but on many sides. His Religion is not an easy one: with rigorous fasts, lavations, strict complex formulas, prayers five times a day, and abstinence from wine, it did not "succeed by being an easy religion." As if indeed any religion, or cause holding of religion, could succeed by that! It is a calumny on men to say that they are roused to heroic action by ease, hope of pleasure, recompense,--sugar-plums of any kind, in this world or the next! In the meanest mortal there lies something nobler. The poor swearing soldier, hired to be shot, has his "honor of a soldier," different from drill-regulations and the shilling a day. It is not to taste sweet things, but to do noble and true things, and vindicate himself under God's Heaven as a god-made Man, that the poorest son of Adam dimly longs. Show him the way of doing that, the dullest daydrudge kindles into a hero. They wrong man greatly who say he is to be seduced by ease. Difficulty, abnegation, martyrdom, death are the _allurements_ that act on the heart of man. Kindle the inner genial life of him, you have a flame that burns-up all lower considerations. Not happiness, but something higher: one sees this even in the frivolous classes, with their "point of honor" and the like. Not by flattering our appetites; no, by awakening the Heroic that slumbers in every heart, can any Religion gain followers. Mohammed himself, after all that can be said about him, was not a sensual man. We shall err widely if we consider this man as a common voluptuary, intent mainly on base enjoyments,--nay on enjoyments of any kind. His household was of the frugalest; his common diet barley-bread and water: sometimes for months there was not a fire once lighted on his hearth. They record with just pride that he would mend his own shoes, patch his own cloak. A poor, hard-toiling, ill-provided man; careless of what vulgar men toil for. Not a bad man, I should say; something better in him than _hunger_ of any sort,--or these wild Arab men, fighting and jostling three-and-twenty years at his hand, in close contact with him always, would not have reverenced him so! They were wild men, bursting ever and anon into quarrel, into all kinds of fierce sincerity; without right worth and manhood, no man could have commanded them. They called him Prophet, you say? Why, he stood there face to face with them; bare, not enshrined in any mystery; visibly clouting his own cloak, cobbling his own shoes; fighting, counselling, ordering in the midst of them: they must have seen what kind of a man he _was_, let him be _called_ what you like! No emperor with his tiara was obeyed as this man in a cloak of his own clouting during three-and-twenty years of rough actual trial. I find something of a veritable Hero necessary for that, of itself. His last words are a prayer; broken ejaculations of a heart struggling up, in trembling hope, towards its Maker. We cannot say that his religion made him _worse_; it made him better; good, not bad. Generous things are recorded of him: when he lost his Daughter, the thing he answers is, in his own dialect, everyway sincere, and yet equivalent to that of Christians, "The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of the Lord." He answered in like manner of Seid, his emancipated well-beloved Slave, the second of the believers. Seid had fallen in the War of Tabûc, the first of Mohammed's fightings with the Greeks. Mohammed said, It was well; Seid had done his Master's work, Seid had now gone to his Master: it was all well with Seid. Yet Seid's daughter found him weeping over the body;--the old gray-haired man melting in tears! "What do I see?" said she.--"You see a friend weeping over his friend."--He went out for the last time into the mosque, two days before his death; asked, If he had injured any man? Let his own back bear the stripes. If he owed any man? A voice answered, "Yes, me three drachms," borrowed on such an occasion. Mohammed ordered them to be paid: "Better be in shame now," said he, "than at the Day of Judgment."--You remember Kadijah, and the "No, by Allah!" Traits of that kind show us the genuine man, the brother of us all, brought visible through twelve centuries,--the veritable Son of our common Mother. Withal I like Mohammed for his total freedom from cant. He is a rough self-helping son of the wilderness; does not pretend to be what he is not. There is no ostentatious pride in him; but neither does he go much upon humility: he is there as he can be, in cloak and shoes of his own clouting; speaks plainly to all manner of Persian Kings, Greek Emperors, what it is they are bound to do; knows well enough, about himself, "the respect due unto thee." In a life-and-death war with Bedouins, cruel things could not fail; but neither are acts of mercy, of noble natural pity and generosity, wanting. Mohammed makes no apology for the one, no boast of the other. They were each the free dictate of his heart; each called-for, there and then. Not a mealy-mouthed man! A candid ferocity, if the case call for it, is in him; he does not mince matters! The War of Tabûc is a thing he often speaks of: his men refused, many of them, to march on that occasion; pleaded the heat of the weather, the harvest, and so forth; he can never forget that. Your harvest? It lasts for a day. What will become of your harvest through all Eternity? Hot weather? Yes, it was hot; "but Hell will be hotter!" Sometimes a rough sarcasm turns-up: He says to the unbelievers, Ye shall have the just measure of your deeds at that Great Day. They will be weighed-out to you; ye shall not have short weight!--Everywhere he fixes the matter in his eye; he _sees_ it: his heart, now and then, is as if struck dumb by the greatness of it. "Assuredly," he says; that word, in the Koran, is written-down sometimes as a sentence by itself: "Assuredly." No _Dilettanteism_ in this Mohammed; it is a business of Reprobation and Salvation with him, of Time and Eternity: he is in deadly earnest about it! Dilettanteism, hypothesis, speculation, a kind of amateur-search for Truth, toying and coquetting with Truth: this is the sorest sin. The root of all other imaginable sins. It consists in the heart and soul of the man never having been _open_ to Truth;--"living in a vain show." Such a man not only utters and produces falsehoods, but _is_ himself a falsehood. The rational moral principle, spark of the Divinity, is sunk deep in him, in quiet paralysis of life-death. The very falsehoods of Mohammed are truer than the truths of such a man. He is the insincere man: smooth-polished, respectable in some times and places; inoffensive, says nothing harsh to anybody; most _cleanly_,--just as carbonic acid is, which is death and poison. We will not praise Mohammed's moral precepts as always of the superfinest sort; yet it can be said that there is always a tendency to good in them; that they are the true dictates of a heart aiming towards what is just and true. The sublime forgiveness of Christianity, turning of the other cheek when the one has been smitten, is not here: you _are_ to revenge yourself, but it is to be in measure, not overmuch, or beyond justice. On the other hand, Islam, like any great Faith, and insight into the essence of man, is a perfect equalizer of men: the soul of one believer outweighs all earthly kingships; all men, according to Islam too, are equal. Mohammed insists not on the propriety of giving alms, but on the necessity of it: he marks-down by law how much you are to give, and it is at your peril if you neglect. The tenth part of a man's annual income, whatever that may be, is the _property_ of the poor, of those that are afflicted and need help. Good all this: the natural voice of humanity, of pity and equity dwelling in the heart of this wild Son of Nature speaks _so_. Mohammed's Paradise is sensual, his Hell sensual: true; in the one and the other there is enough that shocks all spiritual feeling in us. But we are to recollect that the Arabs already had it so; that Mohammed, in whatever he changed of it, softened and diminished all this. The worst sensualities, too, are the work of doctors, followers of his, not his work. In the Koran there is really very little said about the joys of Paradise; they are intimated rather than insisted on. Nor is it forgotten that the highest joys even there shall be spiritual; the pure Presence of the Highest, this shall infinitely transcend all other joys. He says, "Your salutation shall be, Peace." _Salam_, Have Peace!--the thing that all rational souls long for, and seek, vainly here below, as the one blessing. "Ye shall sit on seats, facing one another: all grudges shall be taken away out of your hearts." All grudges! Ye shall love one another freely; for each of you, in the eyes of his brothers, there will be Heaven enough! In reference to this of the sensual Paradise and Mohammed's sensuality, the sorest chapter of all for us, there were many things to be said; which it is not convenient to enter upon here. Two remarks only I shall make, and therewith leave it to your candor. The first is furnished me by Goethe; it is a casual hint of his which seems well worth taking note of. In one of his Delineations, in _Meister's Travels_ it is, the hero comes-upon a Society of men with very strange ways, one of which was this: "We require," says the Master, "that each of our people shall restrict himself in one direction," shall go right against his desire in one matter, and _make_ himself do the thing he does not wish, "should we allow him the greater latitude on all other sides." There seems to me a great justness in this. Enjoying things which are pleasant; that is not the evil: it is the reducing of our moral self to slavery by them that is. Let a man assert withal that he is king over his habitudes; that he could and would shake them off, on cause shown: this is an excellent law. The Month Ramadhan for the Moslem, much in Mohammed's Religion, much in his own Life, bears in that direction; if not by forethought, or clear purpose of moral improvement on his part, then by a certain healthy manful instinct, which is as good. But there is another thing to be said about the Mohammedan Heaven and Hell. This namely, that, however gross and material they may be, they are an emblem of an everlasting truth, not always so well remembered elsewhere. That gross sensual Paradise of his; that horrible flaming Hell; the great enormous Day of Judgment he perpetually insists on: what is all this but a rude shadow, in the rude Bedouin imagination, of that grand spiritual Fact, and Beginning of Facts, which it is ill for us too if we do not all know and feel: the Infinite Nature of Duty? That man's actions here are of _infinite_ moment to him, and never die or end at all; that man, with his little life, reaches upwards high as Heaven, downwards low as Hell, and in his threescore years of Time holds an Eternity fearfully and wonderfully hidden: all this had burnt itself, as in flame-characters, into the wild Arab soul. As in flame and lightning, it stands written there; awful, unspeakable, ever present to him. With bursting earnestness, with a fierce savage sincerity, halt, articulating, not able to articulate, he strives to speak it, bodies it forth in that Heaven and that Hell. Bodied forth in what way you will, it is the first of all truths. It is venerable under all embodiments. What is the chief end of man here below? Mohammed has answered this question, in a way that might put some of _us_ to shame! He does not, like a Bentham, a Paley, take Right and Wrong, and calculate the profit and loss, ultimate pleasure of the one and of the other; and summing all up by addition and subtraction into a net result, ask you, Whether on the whole the Right does not preponderate considerably? No; it is not _better_ to do the one than the other; the one is to the other as life is to death,--as Heaven is to Hell. The one must in nowise be done, the other in nowise left undone. You shall not measure them; they are incommensurable: the one is death eternal to a man, the other is life eternal. Benthamee Utility, virtue by Profit and Loss; reducing this God's-world to a dead brute Steam-engine, the infinite celestial Soul of Man to a kind of Hay-balance for weighing hay and thistles on, pleasures and pains on:--if you ask me which gives, Mohammed or they, the beggarlier and falser view of Man and his Destinies in this Universe, I will answer, It is not Mohammed!-- On the whole, we will repeat that this Religion of Mohammed's is a kind of Christianity; has a genuine element of what is spiritually highest looking through it, not to be hidden by all its imperfections. The Scandinavian God _Wish_, the god of all rude men,--this has been enlarged into a Heaven by Mohammed; but a Heaven symbolical of sacred Duty, and to be earned by faith and well-doing, by valiant action, and a divine patience which is still more valiant. It is Scandinavian Paganism, and a truly celestial element super-added to that. Call it not false; look not at the falsehood of it, look at the truth of it. For these twelve centuries, it has been the religion and life-guidance of the fifth part of the whole kindred of Mankind. Above all things, it has been a religion heartily _believed_. These Arabs believe their religion, and try to live by it! No Christians, since the early ages, or only perhaps the English Puritans in modern times, have ever stood by their Faith as the Moslem do by theirs,--believing it wholly, fronting Time with it, and Eternity with it. This night the watchman on the streets of Cairo when he cries, "Who goes?" will hear from the passenger, along with his answer, "There is no God but God." _Allah akbar, Islam_, sounds through the souls, and whole daily existence, of these dusky millions. Zealous missionaries preach it abroad among Malays, black Papuans, brutal Idolaters;--displacing what is worse, nothing that is better or good. To the Arab Nation it was as a birth from darkness into light; Arabia first became alive by means of it. A poor shepherd people, roaming unnoticed in its deserts since the creation of the world: a Hero-Prophet was sent down to them with a word they could believe: see, the unnoticed becomes world-notable, the small has grown world-great; within one century afterwards, Arabia is at Grenada on this hand, at Delhi on that;--glancing in valor and splendor and the light of genius, Arabia shines through long ages over a great section of the world. Belief is great, life-giving. The history of a Nation becomes fruitful, soul-elevating, great, so soon as it believes. These Arabs, the man Mohammed, and that one century,--is it not as if a spark had fallen, one spark, on a world of what seemed black unnoticeable sand; but lo, the sand proves explosive powder, blazes heaven-high from Delhi to Grenada! I said, the Great Man was always as lightning out of Heaven; the rest of men waited for him like fuel, and then they too would flame. THE KORAN CHAPTER I Entitled, the Preface, or Introduction--Revealed at Mecca _In the Name of the Most Merciful God_. Praise be to God, the Lord of all creatures, the most merciful, the king of the day of judgment. Thee do we worship, and of thee do we beg assistance. Direct us in the right way, in the way of those to whom thou hast been gracious; not of those against whom thou art incensed, nor of those who go astray.[21] [Footnote 21: This chapter is a prayer, and held in great veneration by the Mohammedans, who give it several other honorable titles; as the chapter of prayer, of praise, of thanksgiving, of treasure. They esteem it as the quintessence of the whole Koran, and often repeat it in their devotions both public and private, as the Christians do the Lord's Prayer.] CHAPTER II Entitled, the Cow[22]--Revealed Partly at Mecca, and Partly at Medina _In the Name of the Most Merciful God_, A.L.M. There is no doubt in this book; it is a direction to the pious, who believe in the mysteries of faith, who observe the appointed times of prayer, and distribute alms out of what we have bestowed on them; and who believe in that revelation, which hath been sent down unto thee, and that which hath been sent down unto the prophets before thee, and have firm assurance in the life to come: these are directed by their Lord, and they shall prosper. As for the unbelievers, it will be equal to them whether thou admonish them, or do not admonish them; they will not believe. God hath sealed up their hearts and their hearing; a dimness covereth their sight, and they shall suffer a grievous punishment. There are some who say, We believe in God and the last day, but are not really believers; they seek to deceive God, and those who do believe, but they deceive themselves only, and are not sensible thereof. There is an infirmity in their hearts, and God hath increased that infirmity; and they shall suffer a most painful punishment because they have disbelieved. When one saith unto them, Act not corruptly in the earth, they reply, Verily, we are men of integrity. Are not they themselves corrupt doers? but they are not sensible thereof. And when one saith unto them, Believe ye as others believe; they answer, Shall we believe as fools believe? Are not they themselves fools? but they know it not. When they meet those who believe, they say, We do believe: but when they retire privately to their devils, they say, We really hold with you, and only mock at those people: God shall mock at them, and continue them in their impiety; they shall wander in confusion. These are the men who have purchased error at the price of true direction: but their traffic hath not been gainful, neither have they been rightly directed. They are like unto one who kindleth a fire, and when it hath enlightened all around him, God taketh away their light and leaveth them in darkness, they shall not see; they are deaf, dumb, and blind, therefore will they not repent. Or like a stormy cloud from heaven, fraught with darkness, thunder, and lightning, they put their fingers in their ears, because of the noise of the thunder, for fear of death; God encompasseth the infidels: the lightning wanteth but little of taking away their sight; so often as it enlighteneth them, they walk therein, but when darkness cometh on them, they stand still; and if God so pleased, He would certainly deprive them of their hearing and their sight, for God is almighty. O men of Mecca! serve your Lord who hath created you, and those who have been before you: peradventure ye will fear him; who hath spread the earth as a bed for you, and the heaven as a covering, and hath caused water to descend from heaven, and thereby produced fruits for your sustenance. Set not up therefore any equals unto God, against your own knowledge. If ye be in doubt concerning that revelation which we have sent down unto our servant, produce a chapter like unto it, and call upon your witnesses, besides God, if ye say truth. But if ye do it not, nor shall ever be able to do it, justly fear the fire whose fuel is men and stones, prepared for the unbelievers. But bear good tidings unto those who believe, and do good works, that they shall have gardens watered by rivers; so often as they eat of the fruit thereof for sustenance, they shall say, This is what we have formerly eaten of; and they shall be supplied with several sorts of fruit having a mutual resemblance to one another. There shall they enjoy wives subject to no impurity, and there shall they continue forever. Moreover God will not be ashamed to propound in a parable a gnat, or even a more despicable thing: for they who believe will know it to be the truth from their Lord; but the unbelievers will say, What meaneth God by this parable? he will thereby mislead many, and will direct many thereby: but he will not mislead any thereby, except the transgressors, who make void the covenant of God after the establishing thereof, and cut in sunder that which God hath commanded to be joined, and act corruptly in the earth; they shall perish. How is it that ye believe not in God? Since ye were dead, and he gave you life; he will hereafter cause you to die, and will again restore you to life; then shall ye return unto him. It is he who hath created for you whatsoever is on earth, and then set his mind to the creation of heaven, and formed it into seven heavens; he knoweth all things. When thy Lord said unto the angels, I am going to place a substitute on earth,[23] they said, Wilt thou place there one who will do evil therein, and shed blood? but we celebrate thy praise, and sanctify thee. God answered, Verily I know that which ye know not; and he taught Adam the names of all things, and then proposed them to the angels, and said, Declare unto me the names of these things if ye say truth. They answered, Praise be unto thee, we have no knowledge but what thou teachest us, for thou art knowing and wise. God said, O Adam, tell them their names. And when he had told them their names, God said, Did I not tell you that I know the secrets of heaven and earth, and know that which ye discover, and that which ye conceal? And when we said unto the angels, Worship Adam, they all worshipped him, except Eblis, who refused, and was puffed up with pride, and became of the number of unbelievers.[24] And we said, O Adam, dwell thou and thy wife in the garden, and eat of the fruit thereof plentifully wherever ye will; but approach not this tree, lest ye become of the number of the transgressors. But Satan caused them to forfeit paradise, and turned them out of the state of happiness wherein they had been; whereupon we said, Get ye down, the one of you an enemy unto the other; and there shall be a dwelling-place for you on earth, and a provision for a season. And Adam learned words of prayer from his Lord, and God turned unto him, for he is easy to be reconciled and merciful. We said, Get ye all down from hence; hereafter shall there come unto you a direction from me, and whoever shall follow my direction, on them shall no fear come, neither shall they be grieved; but they who shall be unbelievers, and accuse our signs of falsehood, they shall be the companions of hell fire, therein shall they remain forever. O children of Israel,[25] remember my favor wherewith I have favored you; and perform your covenant with me and I will perform my covenant with you; and revere me; and believe in the revelation which I have sent down, confirming that which is with you, and be not the first who believe not therein, neither exchange my signs for a small price; and fear me. Clothe not the truth with vanity, neither conceal the truth against your own knowledge; observe the stated times of prayer, and pay your legal alms, and bow down yourselves with those who bow down. Will ye command men to do justice, and forget your own souls? yet ye read the book of the law: do ye not therefore understand? Ask help with perseverance and prayer; this indeed is grievous, unless to the humble, who seriously think they shall meet their Lord, and that to him they shall return. O children of Israel, remember my favor wherewith I have favored you, and that I have preferred you above all nations: dread the day wherein one soul shall not make satisfaction for another soul, neither shall any intercession be accepted from them, nor shall any compensation be received, neither shall they be helped. Remember when we delivered you from the people of Pharaoh, who grievously oppressed you, they slew your male children, and let your females live: therein was a great trial from your Lord. And when we divided the sea for you and delivered you, and drowned Pharaoh's people while ye looked on. And when we treated with Moses forty nights; then ye took the calf[26] for your God, and did evil; yet afterwards we forgave you, that peradventure ye might give thanks. And when we gave Moses the book of the law, and the distinction between good and evil, that peradventure ye might be directed. And when Moses said unto his people, O my people, verily ye have injured your own souls, by your taking the calf for your God; therefore be turned unto your Creator, and slay those among you who have been guilty of that crime; this will be better for you in the sight of your Creator; and thereupon he turned unto you, for he is easy to be reconciled, and merciful. And when ye said, O Moses, we will not believe thee, until we see God manifestly; therefore a punishment came upon you, while ye looked on; then we raised you to life after ye had been dead, that peradventure ye might give thanks. And we caused clouds to overshadow you, and manna and quails[27] to descend upon you, saying, Eat of the good things which we have given you for food: and they injured not us, but injured their own souls. And when we said, Enter into this city, and eat of the provisions thereof plentifully as ye will; and enter the gate worshipping, and say, Forgiveness! we will pardon you your sins, and give increase unto the well-doers. But the ungodly changed the expression into another, different from what had been spoken unto them; and we sent down upon the ungodly indignation from heaven, because they had transgressed. And when Moses asked drink for his people, we said, Strike the rock with thy rod; and there gushed thereout twelve fountains according to the number of the tribes, and all men knew their respective drinking-place. Eat and drink of the bounty of God, and commit not evil in the earth, acting unjustly. And when ye said, O Moses, we will by no means be satisfied with one kind of food; pray unto thy Lord therefore for us, that he would produce for us of that which the earth bringeth forth, herbs, and cucumbers, and garlic, and lentils, and onions; Moses answered, Will ye exchange that which is better, for that which is worse? Get ye down into Egypt, for there shall ye find what ye desire; and they were smitten with vileness and misery, and drew on themselves indignation from God. This they suffered, because they believed not in the signs of God, and killed the prophets unjustly; this, because they rebelled and transgressed. Surely those who believe, and those who Judaize, and Christians, and Sabeans, whoever believeth in God, and the last day, and doth that which is right, they shall have their reward with their Lord; there shall come no fear on them, neither shall they be grieved. Call to mind also when we accepted your covenant, and lifted up the mountain of Sinai over you, saying, Receive the law which we have given you, with a resolution to keep it, and remember that which is contained therein, that ye may beware. After this ye again turned back, so that if it had not been for God's indulgence and mercy towards you, ye had certainly been destroyed. Moreover, ye know what befell those of your nation who transgressed on the Sabbath day: We said unto them, Be ye changed into apes, driven away from the society of men. And we made them an example unto those who were contemporary with them, and unto those who came after them, and a warning to the pious. And when Moses said unto his people, Verily God commandeth you to sacrifice a cow;[28] they answered, Dost thou make a jest of us? Moses said, God forbid that I should be one of the foolish. They said, Pray for us unto thy Lord, that he would show us what cow it is. Moses answered, He saith, She is neither an old cow, nor a young heifer, but of a middle-age between both: do ye therefore that which ye are commanded. They said, Pray for us unto the Lord, that he would show us what color she is of. Moses answered, He saith, She is a red cow, intensely red, her color rejoiceth the beholders. They said, Pray for us unto thy Lord, that he would further show us what cow it is, for several cows with us are like one another, and we, if God please, will be directed. Moses answered, He saith, She is a cow not broken to plough the earth, or water the field: a sound one, there is no blemish in her. They said, Now hast thou brought the truth. Then they sacrificed her; yet they wanted little of leaving it undone. And when ye slew a man, and contended among yourselves concerning him, God brought forth to light that which ye concealed. For we said, Strike the dead body with part of the sacrificed cow; so God raiseth the dead to life, and showeth you his signs, that peradventure ye may understand. Then were your hearts hardened after this, even as stones, or exceeding them in hardness: for from some stones have rivers burst forth, others have been rent in sunder, and water hath issued from them, and others have fallen down for fear of God. But God is not regardless of that which ye do. Do ye therefore desire that the Jews should believe you? yet a part of them heard the word of God, and then perverted it, after they had understood it, against their own conscience. And when they meet the true believers, they say, We believe: but when they are privately assembled together, they say, Will ye acquaint them with what God hath revealed unto you, that they may dispute with you concerning it in the presence of your Lord? Do ye not therefore understand? Do not they know that God knoweth that which they conceal as well as that which they publish? But there are illiterate men among them, who know not the book of the law, but only lying stories, although they think otherwise. And woe unto them who transcribe corruptly the book of the law with their hands, and then say, This is from God: that they may sell it for a small price. Therefore woe unto them because of that which their hands have written; and woe unto them for that which they have gained. They say, The fire of hell shall not touch us but for a certain number of days. Answer, Have ye received any promise from God to that purpose? for God will not act contrary to his promise: or do ye speak concerning God that which ye know not? Verily whoso doth evil, and is encompassed by his iniquity, they shall be the companions of hell fire, they shall remain therein forever: but they who believe and do good works, they shall be the companions of paradise, they shall continue therein forever. Remember also, when we accepted the covenant of the children of Israel, saying, Ye shall not worship any other except God, and ye shall show kindness to your parents and kindred, and to orphans, and to the poor, and speak that which is good unto men, and be constant at prayer, and give alms. Afterwards ye turned back, except a few of you, and retired afar-off. And when we accepted your covenant, saying, Ye shall not shed your brother's blood, nor dispossess one another of your habitations, then ye confirmed it, and were witnesses thereto. Afterwards ye were they who slew one another, and turned several of your brethren out of their houses, mutually assisting each other against them with injustice and enmity; but if they come captives unto you, ye redeem them: yet it is equally unlawful for you to dispossess them. Do ye therefore believe in part of the book of the law, and reject other parts thereof? But whoso among you doth this, shall have no other reward than shame in this life, and on the day of resurrection they shall be sent to a most grievous punishment; for God is not regardless of that which ye do. These are they who have purchased this present life, at the price of that which is to come; wherefore their punishment shall not be mitigated, neither shall they be helped. We formerly delivered the book of the law unto Moses, and caused apostles to succeed him, and gave evident miracles to Jesus the son of Mary, and strengthened him with the holy spirit. Do ye therefore, whenever an apostle cometh unto you with that which your souls desire not, proudly reject him, and accuse some of imposture, and slay others? The Jews say, Our hearts are uncircumcised: but God hath cursed them with their infidelity, therefore few shall believe. And when a book came unto them from God, confirming the scriptures which were with them, although they had before prayed for assistance against those who believed not, yet when that came unto them which they knew to be from God, they would not believe therein: therefore the curse of God shall be on the infidels. For a vile price have they sold their souls, that they should not believe in that which God hath sent down; out of envy, because God sendeth down his favors to such of his servants as he pleaseth: therefore they brought on themselves indignation on indignation; and the unbelievers shall suffer an ignominious punishment. When one saith unto them, Believe in that which God hath sent down; they answer, We believe in that which hath been sent down unto us: and they reject what hath been revealed since, although it be the truth, confirming that which is with them. Say, Why therefore have ye slain the prophets of God in times past, if ye be true believers? Moses formerly came unto you with evident signs, but ye afterwards took the calf for your god and did wickedly. And when we accepted your covenant, and lifted the mountain of Sinai over you, saying, Receive the law which we have given you, with a resolution to perform it, and hear; they said, We have heard, and have rebelled: and they were made to drink down the calf into their hearts for their unbelief. Say, A grievous thing hath your faith commanded you, if ye be true believers. Say, If the future mansion with God be prepared peculiarly for you, exclusive of the rest of mankind, wish for death, if ye say truth: but they will never wish for it, because of that which their hands have sent before them; God knoweth the wicked doers; and thou shalt surely find them of all men the most covetous of life, even more than the idolaters: one of them would desire his life to be prolonged a thousand years, but none shall reprieve himself from punishment, that his life may be prolonged: God seeth that which they do. Say, Whoever is an enemy to Gabriel (for he hath caused the Koran to descend on thy heart, by the permission of God, confirming that which was before revealed, a direction, and good tidings to the faithful); whosoever is an enemy to God, or his angels, or his apostles, or to Gabriel, or Michael, verily God is an enemy to the unbelievers. And now we have sent down unto thee evident signs, and none will disbelieve them but the evil-doers. Whenever they make a covenant, will some of them reject it? yea, the greater part of them do not believe. And when there came unto them an apostle from God, confirming that scripture which was with them, some of those to whom the scriptures were given, cast the book of God behind their backs, as if they knew it not: and they followed the device which the devils devised against the kingdom of Solomon; and Solomon was not an unbeliever; but the devils believed not, they taught men sorcery, and that which was sent down to the two angels at Babel, Harût, and Marût: yet those who taught no man until they had said, Verily we are a temptation, therefore be not an unbeliever. So men learned from those two a charm by which they might cause division between a man and his wife; but they hurt none thereby, unless by God's permission; and they learned that which would hurt them, and not profit them; and yet they knew that he who bought that art should have no part in the life to come, and woful is the price for which they have sold their souls, if they knew it. But if they had believed and feared God, verily the reward they would have had from God would have been better, if they had known it. O true believers, say not to our apostle, Raina; but say, Ondhorna;[29] and hearken: the infidels shall suffer a grievous punishment. It is not the desire of the unbelievers, either among those unto whom the scriptures have been given, or among the idolaters, that any good should be sent down unto you from your Lord: but God will appropriate his mercy unto whom he pleaseth; for God is exceeding beneficent. Whatever verse we shall abrogate, or cause thee to forget, we will bring a better than it, or one like unto it. Dost thou not know that God is almighty? Dost thou not know that unto God belongeth the kingdom of heaven and earth? neither have ye any protector or helper except God. Will ye require of your apostle according to that which was formerly required of Moses? but he that hath exchanged faith for infidelity, hath already erred from the straight way. Many of those unto whom the scriptures have been given, desire to render you again unbelievers, after ye have believed; out of envy from their souls, even after the truth is become manifest unto them; but forgive them, and avoid them, till God shall send his command; for God is omnipotent. Be constant in prayer, and give alms; and what good ye have sent before for your souls, ye shall find it with God; surely God seeth that which ye do. They say, Verily none shall enter paradise, except they who are Jews or Christians: this is their wish. Say, Produce your proof of this, if ye speak truth. Nay, but he who resigneth himself to God, and doth that which is right, he shall have his reward with his Lord; there shall come no fear on them, neither shall they be grieved. The Jews say, The Christians are grounded on nothing; and the Christians say, The Jews are grounded on nothing; yet they both read the scriptures. So likewise say they who know not the scripture, according to their saying. But God shall judge between them on the day of the resurrection, concerning that about which they now disagree. Who is more unjust than he who prohibiteth the temples of God, that his name should be remembered therein, and who hasteth to destroy them? Those men cannot enter therein, but with fear: they shall have shame in this world, and in the next a grievous punishment. To God belongeth the east and the west; therefore, whithersoever ye turn yourselves to pray, there is the face of God; for God is omnipresent and omniscient. They say God hath begotten children. God forbid! To him belongeth whatever is in heaven, and on earth; all is possessed by him, the Creator of heaven and earth; and when he decreeth a thing, he only saith unto it, Be, and it is. And they who know not the scriptures say, Unless God speak unto us, or thou show us a sign, we will not believe. So said those before them, according to their saying: their hearts resemble each other. We have already shown manifest signs unto people who firmly believe; we have sent thee in truth, a bearer of good tidings, and a preacher; and thou shalt not be questioned concerning the companions of hell. But the Jews will not be pleased with thee, neither the Christians, until thou follow their religion; say, The direction of God is the true direction. And verily if thou follow their desires, after the knowledge which hath been given thee, thou shalt find no patron or protector against God. They to whom we have given the book of the Koran, and who read it with its true reading, they believe therein; and whoever believeth not therein, they shall perish. O children of Israel, remember my favor wherewith I have favored you, and that I have preferred you before all nations; and dread the day wherein one soul shall not make satisfaction for another soul, neither shall any compensation be accepted from them, nor shall any intercession avail, neither shall they be helped. Remember when the Lord tried Abraham by certain words, which he fulfilled: God said, Verily I will constitute thee a model of religion unto mankind; he answered, And also of my posterity; God said, My covenant doth not comprehend the ungodly. And when we appointed the holy house of Mecca to be the place of resort for mankind, and a place of security; and said, Take the station of Abraham for a place of prayer; and we covenanted with Abraham and Ismael, that they should cleanse my house for those who should compass it, and those who should be devoutly assiduous there, and those who should bow down and worship. And when Abraham said, Lord, make this a territory of security, and bounteously bestow fruits on its inhabitants, such of them as believe in God and the last day; God answered, And whoever believeth not, I will bestow on him little: afterwards I will drive him to the punishment of hell fire; an ill journey shall it be! And when Abraham and Ismael raised the foundations of the house, saying, Lord, accept it from us, for thou art he who heareth and knoweth: Lord, make us also resigned unto thee, and of our posterity a people resigned unto thee, and show us our holy ceremonies, and be turned unto us, for thou art easy to be reconciled, and merciful; Lord, send them likewise an apostle from among them, who may declare thy signs unto them, and teach them the book of the Koran and wisdom, and may purify them; for thou art mighty and wise. Who will be averse to the religion of Abraham, but he whose mind is infatuated? Surely we have chosen him in this world, and in that which is to come he shall be one of the righteous. When his Lord said unto him, Resign thyself unto me, he answered, I have resigned myself unto the Lord of all creatures. And Abraham bequeathed this religion to his children, and Jacob did the same, saying, My children, verily, God hath chosen this religion for you, therefore die not, unless ye also be resigned. Were ye present when Jacob was at the point of death? when he said to his sons, Whom will ye worship after me? They answered, We will worship thy God, and the God of thy fathers, Abraham and Ismael, and Isaac, one God, and to him will we be resigned. That people are now passed away, they have what they have gained, and ye shall have what ye gain; and ye shall not be questioned concerning that which they have done. They say, Become Jews or Christians that ye may be directed. Say, Nay, we follow the religion of Abraham the orthodox, who was no idolater. Say, We believe in God, and that which hath been sent down unto us, and that which hath been sent down unto Abraham, and Ismael, and Isaac, and Jacob, and the tribes, and that which was delivered unto Moses, and Jesus, and that which was delivered unto the prophets from their Lord: We make no distinction between any of them, and to God are we resigned. Now if they believe according to what ye believe, they are surely directed, but if they turn back, they are in schism. God shall support thee against them, for he is the hearer, the wise. The baptism of God[30] have we received, and who is better than God to baptize? him do we worship. Say, Will ye dispute with us concerning God, who is our Lord, and your Lord? we have our works, and ye have your works, and unto him are we sincerely devoted. Will ye say, Truly Abraham, and Ismael, and Isaac, and Jacob, and the tribes were Jews or Christians? Say, Are ye wiser, or God? And who is more unjust than he who hideth the testimony which he hath received from God? But God is not regardless of that which ye do. That people are passed away, they have what they have gained, and ye shall have what ye gain, nor shall ye be questioned concerning that which they have done. The foolish men will say, What hath turned them from their Keblah, towards which they formerly prayed?[31] Say, Unto God belongeth the east and the west: he directeth whom he pleaseth into the right way. Thus have we placed you, O Arabians, an intermediate nation, that ye may be witnesses against the rest of mankind, and that the apostle may be a witness against you. We appointed the Keblah towards which thou didst formerly pray, only that we might know him who followeth the apostle, from him who turneth back on his heels; though this change seem a great matter, unless unto those whom God hath directed. But God will not render your faith of no effect; for God is gracious and merciful unto man. We have seen thee turn about thy face towards heaven with uncertainty, but we will cause thee to turn thyself towards a Keblah that will please thee. Turn, therefore, thy face towards the holy temple of Mecca; and wherever ye be, turn your faces towards that place. They to whom the scripture hath been given, know this to be truth from their Lord. God is not regardless of that which ye do. Verily although thou shouldst show unto those to whom the scripture hath been given all kinds of signs, yet they will not follow thy Keblah, neither shalt thou follow their Keblah; nor will one part of them follow the Keblah of the other. And if thou follow their desires, after the knowledge which hath been given thee, verily thou wilt become one of the ungodly. They to whom we have given the scripture know our apostle, even as they know their own children; but some of them hide the truth, against their own knowledge. Truth is from thy Lord, therefore thou shalt not doubt. Every sect hath a certain tract of heaven to which they turn themselves in prayer; but do ye strive to run after good things: wherever ye be, God will bring you all back at the resurrection, for God is almighty. And from what place soever thou comest forth, turn thy face towards the holy temple; for this is truth from thy Lord; neither is God regardless of that which ye do. From what place soever thou comest forth, turn thy face towards the holy temple; and wherever ye be, thitherward turn your faces, lest men have matter of dispute against you; but as for those among them who are unjust doers, fear them not, but fear me, that I may accomplish my grace upon you, and that ye may be directed. As we have sent unto you an apostle from among you, to rehearse our signs unto you, and to purify you, and to teach you the book of the Koran and wisdom, and to teach you that which ye knew not: therefore remember me, and I will remember you, and give thanks unto me, and be not unbelievers. O true believers, beg assistance with patience and prayer, for God is with the patient. And say not of those who are slain in fight for the religion of God, that they are dead; yea, they are living: but ye do not understand. We will surely prove you by afflicting you in some measure with fear, and hunger, and decrease of wealth, and loss of lives, and scarcity of fruits; but bear good tidings unto the patient, who when a misfortune befalleth them, say, We are God's, and unto him shall we surely return. Upon them shall be blessings from their Lord and mercy, and they are the rightly directed. Moreover Safa and Merwah are two of the monuments of God: whoever therefore goeth on pilgrimage to the temple of Mecca or visiteth it, it shall be no crime in him if he compass them both. And as for him who voluntarily performeth a good work; verily God is grateful and knowing. They who conceal any of the evident signs, or the direction which we have sent down, after what we have manifested unto men in the scripture, God shall curse them; and they who curse shall curse them. But as for those who repent and amend, and make known what they concealed, I will be turned unto them, for I am easy to be reconciled and merciful. Surely they who believe not, and die in their unbelief, upon them shall be the curse of God, and of the angels, and of all men; they shall remain under it forever, their punishment shall not be alleviated, neither shall they be regarded. Your God is one God, there is no God but He, the most merciful. Now in the creation of heaven and earth, and the vicissitude of night and day, and in the ship which saileth in the sea, laden with what is profitable for mankind, and in the rain-water which God sendeth from heaven, quickening thereby the dead earth, and replenishing the same with all sorts of cattle, and in the change of winds, and the clouds that are compelled to do service between heaven and earth, are signs to people of understanding: yet some men take idols beside God, and love them as with the love due to God; but the true believers are more fervent in love towards God. Oh that they who act unjustly did perceive, when they behold their punishment, that all power belongeth unto God, and that he is severe in punishing! When those who have been followed, shall separate themselves from their followers, and shall see the punishment, and the cords of relation between them shall be cut asunder; the followers shall say, If we could return to life, we would separate ourselves from them, as they have now separated themselves from us. So God will show them their works; they shall sigh grievously, and shall not come forth from the fire of hell. O men, eat of that which is lawful and good on the earth; and tread not in the steps of the devil, for he is your open enemy. Verily he commandeth you evil and wickedness, and that ye should say that of God which ye know not. And when it is said unto them who believe not, Follow that which God hath sent down; they answer, Nay, but we will follow that which we found our fathers practised. What? though their fathers knew nothing, and were not rightly directed? The unbelievers are like unto one who crieth aloud to that which heareth not so much as his calling, or the sound of his voice. They are deaf, dumb, and blind, therefore they do not understand. O true believers, eat of the good things which we have bestowed on you for food, and return thanks unto God, if ye serve him. Verily he hath forbidden you to eat that which dieth of itself, and blood, and swine's flesh, and that on which any other name but God's hath been invocated.[32] But he who is forced by necessity, not lusting, nor returning to transgress, it shall be no crime in him if he eat of those things, for God is gracious and merciful. Moreover they who conceal any part of the scripture which God hath sent down unto them, and sell it for a small price, they shall swallow into their bellies nothing but fire; God shall not speak unto them on the day of resurrection, neither shall he purify them, and they shall suffer a grievous punishment. These are they who have sold direction for error, and pardon for punishment: but how great will their suffering be in the fire! This they shall endure, because God sent down the book of the Koran with truth, and they who disagree concerning that book, are certainly in a wide mistake. It is not righteousness that ye turn your faces in prayer towards the east and the west, but righteousness is of him who believeth in God and the last day, and the angels, and the scriptures, and the prophets; who giveth money for God's sake unto his kindred, and unto orphans, and the needy, and the stranger, and those who ask, and for redemption of captives; who is constant at prayer, and giveth alms; and of those who perform their covenant, when they have covenanted, and who behave themselves patiently in adversity, and hardships, and in time of violence: these are they who are true, and these are they who fear God. O true believers, the law of retaliation is ordained you for the slain: the free shall die for the free, and the servant for the servant, and a woman for a woman; but he whom his brother shall forgive, may be prosecuted, and obliged to make satisfaction according to what is just, and a fine shall be set on him[33] with humanity. This is indulgence from your Lord, and mercy. And he who shall transgress after this, by killing the murderer, shall suffer a grievous punishment. And in this law of retaliation ye have life, O ye of understanding, that peradventure ye may fear. It is ordained you, when any of you is at the point of death, if he leave any goods, that he bequeath a legacy to his parents and kindred, according to what shall be reasonable.[34] This is a duty incumbent on those who fear God. But he who shall change the legacy, after he hath heard it bequeathed by the dying person, surely the sin thereof shall be on those who change it, for God is he who heareth and knoweth. Howbeit he who apprehendeth from the testator any mistake or injustice, and shall compose the matter between them, that shall be no crime in him, for God is gracious and merciful. O true believers, a fast is ordained you, as it was ordained unto those before you, that ye may fear God. A certain number of days shall ye fast: but he among you who shall be sick, or on a journey, shall fast an equal number of other days. And those who can keep it, and do not, must redeem their neglect by maintaining of a poor man. And he who voluntarily dealeth better with the poor man than he is obliged, this shall be better for him. But if ye fast it will be better for you, if ye knew it. The month of Ramadhan shall ye fast, in which the Koran was sent down from heaven, a direction unto men, and declarations of direction, and the distinction between good and evil. Therefore let him among you who shall be present in this month, fast the same month; but he who shall be sick, or on a journey, shall fast the like number of other days. God would make this an ease unto you, and would not make it a difficulty unto you; that ye may fulfil the number of days, and glorify God, for that he hath directed you, and that ye may give thanks. When my servants ask thee concerning me, Verily I am near; I will hear the prayer of him that prayeth, when he prayeth unto me: but let them hearken unto me, and believe in me, that they may be rightly directed. It is lawful for you on the night of the fast to go in unto your wives: they are a garment unto you, and ye are a garment unto them. God knoweth that ye defraud yourselves therein, wherefore he turneth unto you and forgiveth you. Now therefore go in unto them; and earnestly desire that which God ordaineth you, and eat and drink, until ye can plainly distinguish a white thread from a black thread by the daybreak: then keep the fast until night, and go not in unto them, but be constantly present in the places of worship. These are the prescribed bounds of God, therefore draw not near them to transgress them. Thus God declareth his signs unto men, that ye may fear him. Consume not your wealth among yourselves in vain; nor present it unto judges, that ye may devour part of men's substance unjustly, against your own consciences. They will ask thee concerning the phases of the moon. Answer, They are times appointed unto men, and to show the season of the pilgrimage to Mecca. It is not righteousness that ye enter your houses by the back part thereof, but righteousness is of him who feareth God. Therefore enter your houses by their doors; and fear God, that ye may be happy. And fight for the religion of God against those who fight against you, but transgress not by attacking them first, for God loveth not the transgressors. And kill them wherever ye find them, and turn them out of that whereof they have dispossessed you; for temptation to idolatry is more grievous than slaughter: yet fight not against them in the holy temple, until they attack you therein; but if they attack you, slay them there. This shall be the reward of the infidels. But if they desist, God is gracious and merciful. Fight therefore against them, until there be no temptation to idolatry, and the religion be God's: but if they desist, then let there be no hostility, except against the ungodly. A sacred month for a sacred month, and the holy limits of Mecca, if they attack you therein, do ye also attack them therein in retaliation; and whoever transgresseth against you by so doing, do ye transgress against him in like manner as he hath transgressed against you, and fear God, and know that God is with those who fear him. Contribute out of your substance towards the defence of the religion of God, and throw not yourselves with your own hands into perdition; and do good, for God loveth those who do good. Perform the pilgrimage of Mecca, and the visitation of God; if ye be besieged, send that offering which shall be the easiest; and shave not your heads, until your offering reacheth the place of sacrifice. But whoever among you is sick, or is troubled with any distemper of the head, must redeem the shaving his head by fasting, or alms, or some offering. When ye are secure from enemies, he who tarrieth in the visitation of the temple of Mecca until the pilgrimage, shall bring that offering which shall be the easiest. But he who findeth not anything to offer, shall fast three days in the pilgrimage, and seven when ye are returned: they shall be ten days complete. This is incumbent on him whose family shall not be present at the holy temple. And fear God, and know that God is severe in punishing. The pilgrimage must be performed in the known months; whosoever therefore purposeth to go on pilgrimage therein, let him not know a woman, nor transgress, nor quarrel in the pilgrimage. The good which ye do, God knoweth it. Make provision for your journey; but the best provision is piety: and fear me, O ye of understanding. It shall be no crime in you, if ye seek an increase from your Lord, by trading during the pilgrimage. And when ye go in procession from Arafat, remember God near the holy monument; and remember him for that he hath directed you, although ye were before this of the number of those who go astray. Therefore go in procession from whence the people go in procession, and ask pardon of God, for God is gracious and merciful. And when ye have finished your holy ceremonies, remember God, according as ye remember your fathers, or with a more reverent commemoration. There are some men who say, O Lord, give us our portion in this world; but such shall have no portion in the next life: and there are others who say, O Lord, give us good in this world, and also good in the next world, and deliver us from the torment of hell fire. They shall have a portion of that which they have gained: God is swift in taking an account. Remember God the appointed number of days; but if any haste to depart from the valley of Mina in two days, it shall be no crime in him. And if any tarry longer, it shall be no crime in him, in him who feareth God. Therefore fear God, and know that unto him ye shall be gathered. There is a man who causeth thee to marvel[35] by his speech concerning this present life, and calleth God to witness that which is in his heart, yet he is most intent in opposing thee; and when he turneth away from thee, he hasteth to act corruptly in the earth, and to destroy that which is sown, and springeth up;[36] but God loveth not corrupt doing. And if one say unto him, Fear God; pride seizeth him, together with wickedness; but hell shall be his reward, and an unhappy couch shall it be. There is also a man who selleth his soul for the sake of those things which are pleasing unto God;[37] and God is gracious unto his servants. O true believers, enter into the true religion wholly, and follow not the steps of Satan, for he is your open enemy. If ye have slipped after the declarations of our will have come unto you, know that God is mighty and wise. Do the infidels expect less than that God should come down to them overshadowed with clouds, and the angels also? but the thing is decreed, and to God shall all things return. Ask the children of Israel how many evident signs we have showed them; and whoever shall change the grace of God, after it shall have come unto him, verily God will be severe in punishing him. The present life was ordained for those who believe not, and they laugh the faithful to scorn; but they who fear God shall be above them, on the day of the resurrection: for God is bountiful unto whom he pleaseth without measure. Mankind was of one faith, and God sent prophets bearing good tidings, and denouncing threats; and sent down with them the scripture in truth, that it might judge between men of that concerning which they disagreed: and none disagreed concerning it, except those to whom the same scriptures were delivered, after the declarations of God's will had come unto them, out of envy among themselves. And God directed those who believed, to that truth concerning which they disagreed, by his will: for God directeth whom he pleaseth into the right way. Did ye think ye should enter paradise, when as yet no such thing had happened unto you, as hath happened unto those who have been before you? They suffered calamity and tribulation, and were afflicted; so that the apostle, and they who believed with him, said, When will the help of God come? Is not the help of God nigh? They will ask thee what they shall bestow in alms: Answer, The good which ye bestow, let it be given to parents, and kindred, and orphans, and the poor, and the stranger. Whatsoever good ye do, God knoweth it. War is enjoined you against the Infidels; but this is hateful unto you: yet perchance ye hate a thing which is better for you, and perchance ye love a thing which is worse for you: but God knoweth and ye know not. They will ask thee concerning the sacred month, whether they may war therein: Answer, To war therein is grievous; but to obstruct the way of God, and infidelity towards him, and to keep men from the holy temple, and to drive out his people from thence, is more grievous in the sight of God, and the temptation to idolatry is more grievous than to kill in the sacred months. They will not cease to war against you, until they turn you from your religion, if they be able: but whoever among you shall turn back from his religion, and die an infidel, their works shall be vain in this world and the next; they shall be the companions of hell fire, they shall remain therein forever. But they who believe, and who fly for the sake of religion, and fight in God's cause, they shall hope for the mercy of God; for God is gracious and merciful. They will ask thee concerning wine[38] and lots:[39] Answer, In both there is great sin, and also some things of use unto men, but their sinfulness is greater than their use. They will ask thee also what they shall bestow in alms: Answer, What ye have to spare. Thus God showeth his signs unto you, that peradventure ye might seriously think of this present world, and of the next. They will also ask thee concerning orphans: Answer, To deal righteously with them is best; and if ye intermeddle with the management of what belongs to them, do them no wrong; they are your brethren: God knoweth the corrupt dealer from the righteous; and if God please, he will surely distress you, for God is mighty and wise. Marry not women who are idolaters, until they believe: verily a maid-servant who believeth is better than an idolatress, although she please you more. And give not women who believe in marriage to the idolaters, until they believe; for verily a servant who is a true believer, is better than an idolater, though he please you more. They invite into hell fire, but God inviteth unto paradise and pardon through his will, and declareth his signs unto men, that they may remember. They will ask thee also concerning the courses of women: Answer, They are a pollution: therefore separate yourselves from women in their courses, and go not near them until they be cleansed. But when they are cleansed, go in unto them as God hath commanded you, for God loveth those who repent, and loveth those who are clean. Your wives are your tillage; go in therefore unto your tillage in what manner soever ye will: and do first some act that may be profitable unto your souls; and fear God, and know that ye must meet him; and bear good tidings unto the faithful. Make not God the object of your oaths, that ye may deal justly, and be devout, and make peace among men;[40] for God is he who heareth and knoweth. God will not punish you for an inconsiderate word in your oaths; but he will punish you for that which your hearts have assented unto: God is merciful and gracious. They who vow to abstain from their wives, are allowed to wait four months: but if they go back from their vow, verily God is gracious and merciful; and if they resolve on a divorce, God is he who heareth and knoweth. The women who are divorced shall wait concerning themselves until they have their courses thrice, and it shall not be lawful for them to conceal that which God hath created in their wombs, if they believe in God and the last day; and their husbands will act more justly to bring them back at this time, if they desire a reconciliation. The women ought also to behave towards their husbands in like manner as their husbands should behave towards them, according to what is just: but the men ought to have a superiority over them. God is mighty and wise. Ye may divorce your wives twice; and then either retain them with humanity, or dismiss them with kindness. But it is not lawful for you to take away anything of what ye have given them, unless both fear that they cannot observe the ordinances of God. And if ye fear that they cannot observe the ordinances of God, it shall be no crime in either of them on account of that for which the wife shall redeem herself. These are the ordinances of God; therefore transgress them not; for whoever transgresseth the ordinances of God, they are unjust doers. But if the husband divorce her a third time, she shall not be lawful for him again, until she marry another husband. But if he also divorce her, it shall be no crime in them, if they return to each other, if they think they can observe the ordinances of God; and these are the ordinances of God: he declareth them to people of understanding. But when ye divorce women, and they have fulfilled their prescribed time, either retain them with humanity, or dismiss them with kindness; and retain them not by violence, so that ye transgress; for he who doth this, surely injureth his own soul. And make not the signs of God a jest: but remember God's favor towards you, and that he hath sent down unto you the book of the Koran, and wisdom, admonishing you thereby; and fear God, and know that God is omniscient. But when ye have divorced your wives, and they have fulfilled their prescribed time, hinder them not from marrying their husbands, when they have agreed among themselves according to what is honorable. This is given in admonition unto him among you who believeth in God, and the last day. This is most righteous for you, and most pure. God knoweth, but ye know not. Mothers, after they are divorced, shall give suck unto their children two full years, to him who desireth the time of giving suck to be completed; and the father shall be obliged to maintain them and clothe them in the meantime, according to that which shall be reasonable. No person shall be obliged beyond his ability. A mother shall not be compelled to what is unreasonable on account of her child, nor a father on account of his child. And the heir of the father shall be obliged to do in like manner. But if they choose to wean the child before the end of two years, by common consent and on mutual consideration, it shall be no crime in them. And if ye have a mind to provide a nurse for your children, it shall be no crime in you, in case ye fully pay what ye offer her, according to that which is just. And fear God, and know that God seeth whatever ye do. Such of you as die, and leave wives, their wives must wait concerning themselves four months and ten days, and when they shall have fulfilled their term, it shall be no crime in you, for that which they shall do with themselves, according to what is reasonable. God well knoweth that which ye do. And it shall be no crime in you, whether ye make public overtures of marriage unto such women, within the said four months and ten days, or whether ye conceal such your designs in your minds: God knoweth that ye will remember them. But make no promise unto them privately, unless ye speak honorable words; and resolve not on the knot of marriage, until the prescribed time be accomplished; and know that God knoweth that which is in your minds, therefore beware of him, and know that God is gracious and merciful. It shall be no crime in you, if ye divorce your wives, so long as ye have not touched them, nor settled any dowry on them. And provide for them (he who is at his ease must provide according to his circumstances, and he who is straitened according to his circumstances) necessaries, according to what shall be reasonable. This is a duty incumbent on the righteous. But if ye divorce them before ye have touched them, and have already settled a dowry on them, ye shall give them half of what ye have settled, unless they release any part, or he release part in whose hand the knot of marriage is; and if ye release the whole, it will approach nearer unto piety. And forget not liberality among you, for God seeth that which ye do. Carefully observe the appointed prayers, and the middle prayer,[41] and be assiduous therein, with devotion towards God. But if ye fear any danger, pray on foot or on horseback; and when ye are safe, remember God, how he hath taught you what as yet ye knew not. And such of you as shall die and leave wives, ought to bequeath their wives a year's maintenance, without putting them out of their houses: but if they go out voluntarily, it shall be no crime in you, for that which they shall do with themselves, according to what shall be reasonable; God is mighty and wise. And unto those who are divorced, a reasonable provision is also due; this is a duty incumbent on those who fear God. Thus God declareth his signs unto you, that ye may understand. Hast thou not considered those who left their habitations (and they were thousands) for fear of death? And God said unto them, Die; then he restored them to life, for God is gracious towards mankind; but the greater part of men do not give thanks. Fight for the religion of God, and know that God is he who heareth and knoweth. Who is he that will lend unto God on good usury? verily he will double it unto him manifold; for God contracteth and extendeth his hand as he pleaseth, and to him shall ye return. Hast thou not considered the assembly of the children of Israel, after the time of Moses; when they said unto their prophet Samuel, Set a king over us, that we may fight for the religion of God? The prophet answered, If ye are enjoined to go to war, will ye be near refusing to fight? They answered, And what should ail us that we should not fight for the religion of God, seeing we are dispossessed of our habitations, and deprived of our children? But when they were enjoined to go to war, they turned back, except a few of them: and God knew the ungodly. And their prophet said unto them, Verily God hath set Talût king over you: they answered, How shall he reign over us, seeing we are more worthy of the kingdom than he, neither is he possessed of great riches? Samuel said, Verily God hath chosen him before you, and hath caused him to increase in knowledge and stature, for God giveth his kingdom unto whom he pleaseth; God is bounteous and wise. And their prophet said unto them, Verily the sign of his kingdom shall be, that the ark shall come unto you: therein shall be tranquillity from your Lord, and the relics which have been left by the family of Moses, and the family of Aaron; the angels shall bring it. Verily this shall be a sign unto you, if ye believe. And when Talût departed with his soldiers, he said, Verily God will prove you by the river: for he who drinketh thereof, shall not be on my side (but he who shall not taste thereof he shall be on my side) except he who drinketh a draught out of his hand. And they drank thereof, except a few of them. And when they had passed the river, he and those who believed with him, they said, We have no strength to-day against Jalut and his forces. But they who considered that they should meet God at the resurrection, said, How often hath a small army discomfited a great army, by the will of God? and God is with those who patiently persevere. And when they went forth to battle against Jalut and his forces, they said, O Lord, pour on us patience, and confirm our feet, and help us against the unbelieving people. Therefore they discomfited them, by the will of God, and David slew Jalut. And God gave him the kingdom and wisdom, and taught him his will; and if God had not prevented men, the one by the other, verily the earth had been corrupted: but God is beneficent towards his creatures. These are the signs of God: we rehearse them unto thee with truth, and thou art surely one of those who have been sent by God. These are the apostles; we have preferred some of them before others: some of them hath God spoken unto, and hath exalted the degree of others of them. And we gave unto Jesus the son of Mary manifest signs, and strengthened him with the holy spirit. And if God had pleased, they who came after those apostles would not have contended among themselves, after manifest signs had been shown unto them. But they fell to variance; therefore some of them believed, and some of them believed not; and if God had so pleased, they would not have contended among themselves, but God doeth what he will. O true believers, give alms of that which we have bestowed on you, before the day cometh wherein there shall be no merchandising, nor friendship, nor intercession. The infidels are unjust doers. God! there is no God but he;[42] the living, the self-subsisting: neither slumber nor sleep seizeth him; to him belongeth whatsoever is in heaven, and on earth. Who is he that can intercede with him, but through his good pleasure! He knoweth that which is past, and that which is to come unto them, and they shall not comprehend anything of his knowledge, but so far as he pleaseth. His throne is extended over heaven and earth,[43] and the preservation of both is no burden unto him. He is the high, the mighty. Let there be no violence in religion. Now is right direction manifestly distinguished from deceit: whoever therefore shall deny Tagut, and believe in God, he shall surely take hold on a strong handle, which shall not be broken; God is he who heareth and seeth. God is the patron of those who believe; he shall lead them out of darkness into light: but as to those who believe not, their patrons are Tagut; they shall lead them from the light into darkness; they shall be the companions of hell fire, they shall remain therein forever. Hast thou not considered him who disputed with Abraham concerning his Lord, because God had given him the kingdom? When Abraham said, My Lord is he who giveth life, and killeth: he answered, I give life, and I kill. Abraham said, Verily God bringeth the sun from the east, now do thou bring it from the west. Whereupon the infidel was confounded; for God directeth not the ungodly people. Or hast thou not considered how he behaved who passed by a city which had been destroyed, even to her foundations? He said, How shall God quicken this city, after she hath been dead? And God caused him to die for a hundred years, and afterwards raised him to life. And God said, How long hast thou tarried here? He answered, A day, or part of a day. God said, Nay, thou hast tarried here a hundred years. Now look on thy food and the drink, they are not yet corrupted; and look on thine ass: and this have we done that we might make thee a sign unto men. And look on the bones of thine ass, how we raise them, and afterwards clothe them with flesh. And when this was shown unto him, he said, I know that God is able to do all things. And when Abraham said, O Lord, show me how thou wilt raise the dead; God said, Dost thou not yet believe? He answered, Yea; but I ask this that my heart may rest at ease. God said, take therefore four birds, and divide them; then lay a part of them on every mountain; then call them, and they shall come swiftly unto thee: and know that God is mighty and wise. The similitude of those who lay out their substance for advancing the religion of God, is as a grain of corn which produceth seven ears, and in every ear a hundred grains; for God giveth twofold unto whom he pleaseth: God is bounteous and wise. They who lay out their substance for the religion of God, and afterwards follow not what they have so laid out by reproaches or mischief, they shall have their reward with their Lord; upon them shall no fear come, neither shall they be grieved. A fair speech, and to forgive, is better than alms followed by mischief. God is rich and merciful. O true believers, make not your alms of no effect by reproaching, or mischief, as he who layeth out what he hath to appear unto men to give alms, and believeth not in God and the last day. The likeness of such a one is as a flint covered with earth, on which a violent rain falleth, and leaveth it hard. They cannot prosper in anything which they have gained, for God directeth not the unbelieving people. And the likeness of those who lay out their substance from a desire to please God, and for an establishment for their souls, is as a garden on a hill, on which a violent rain falleth, and it bringeth forth its fruits twofold; and if a violent rain falleth not on it, yet the dew falleth thereon: and God seeth that which ye do. Doth any of you desire to have a garden of palm-trees and vines, through which rivers flow, wherein he may have all kinds of fruits, and that he may attain to old age, and have a weak offspring? then a violent fiery wind shall strike it, so that it shall be burned. Thus God declareth his signs unto you, that ye may consider. O true believers, bestow alms of the good things which ye have gained, and of that which we have produced for you out of the earth, and choose not the bad thereof, to give it in alms, such as ye would not accept yourselves, otherwise than by connivance: and know that God is rich and worthy to be praised. The devil threateneth you with poverty, and commandeth you filthy covetousness; but God promiseth you pardon from himself and abundance: God is bounteous and wise. He giveth wisdom unto whom he pleaseth; and he unto whom wisdom is given, hath received much good: but none will consider, except the wise of heart. And whatever alms ye shall give, or whatever vow ye shall vow, verily God knoweth it; but the ungodly shall have none to help them. If ye make your alms to appear, it is well; but if ye conceal them, and give them unto the poor, this will be better for you, and will atone for your sins: and God is well informed of that which ye do. The direction of them belongeth not unto thee; but God directeth whom he pleaseth. The good that ye shall give in alms shall redound unto yourselves; and ye shall not give unless out of desire of seeing the face of God. And what good thing ye shall give in alms, it shall be repaid you, and ye shall not be treated unjustly; unto the poor who are wholly employed in fighting for the religion of God, and cannot go to and fro in the earth; whom the ignorant man thinketh rich, because of their modesty: thou shalt know them by this mark, they ask not men with importunity; and what good ye shall give in alms, verily God knoweth it. They who distribute alms of their substance night and day, in private and in public, shall have their reward with the Lord; on them shall no fear come, neither shall they be grieved. They who devour usury shall not arise from the dead, but as he ariseth whom Satan hath infected by a touch: this shall happen to them because they say, Truly selling is but as usury: and yet God hath permitted selling and forbidden usury. He therefore who, when there cometh unto him an admonition from his Lord, abstaineth from usury for the future, shall have what is past forgiven him, and his affair belongeth unto God. But whoever returneth to usury, they shall be the companions of hell fire, they shall continue therein forever. God shall take his blessing from usury, and shall increase alms: for God loveth no infidel, or ungodly person. But they who believe and do that which is right, and observe the stated times of prayer, and pay their legal alms, they shall have their reward with their Lord: there shall come no fear on them, neither shall they be grieved. O true believers, fear God, and remit that which remaineth of usury, if ye really believe; but if ye do it not, hearken unto war, which is declared against you from God and his apostle: yet if ye repent, ye shall have the capital of your money. Deal not unjustly with others, and ye shall not be dealt with unjustly. If there be any debtor under a difficulty of paying his debt, let his creditor wait till it be easy for him to do it; but if ye remit it as alms, it will be better for you, if ye knew it. And fear the day wherein ye shall return unto God; then shall every soul be paid what it hath gained, and they shall not be treated unjustly. O true believers, when ye bind yourselves one to the other in a debt for a certain time, write it down; and let a writer write between you according to justice, and let not the writer refuse writing according to what God hath taught him; but let him write, and let him who oweth the debt dictate, and let him fear God his Lord, and not diminish aught thereof. But if he who oweth the debt be foolish, or weak, or be not able to dictate himself, let his agent dictate according to equity; and call to witness two witnesses of your neighboring men; but if there be not two men, let there be a man and two women of those whom ye shall choose for witnesses: if one of those women should mistake, the other of them will cause her to recollect. And the witnesses shall not refuse, whensoever they shall be called. And disdain not to write it down, be it a large debt, or be it a small one, until its time of payment: this will be more just in the sight of God, and more right for bearing witness, and more easy, that ye may not doubt. But if it be a present bargain which ye transact between yourselves, it shall be no crime in you, if ye write it not down. And take witnesses when ye sell one to the other, and let no harm be done to the writer, nor to the witness; which if ye do, it will surely be injustice in you: and fear God, and God will instruct you, for God knoweth all things. And if ye be on a journey, and find no writer, let pledges be taken: but if one of you trust the other, let him who is trusted return what he is trusted with, and fear God his Lord. And conceal not the testimony, for he who concealeth it hath surely a wicked heart: God knoweth that which ye do. Whatever is in heaven and on earth is God's; and whether ye manifest that which is in your minds, or conceal it, God will call you to account for it, and will forgive whom he pleaseth, and will punish whom he pleaseth; for God is almighty. The apostle believeth in that which hath been sent down unto him from his Lord, and the faithful also. Every one of them believeth in God, and his angels, and his scriptures, and his apostles: we make no distinction at all between his apostles.[44] And they say, We have heard, and do obey: we implore thy mercy, O Lord, for unto thee must we return. God will not force any soul beyond its capacity: it shall have the good which it gaineth, and it shall suffer the evil which it gaineth. O Lord, punish us not, if we forget, or act sinfully: O Lord, lay not on us a burden like that which thou hast laid on those who have been before us;[45] neither make us, O Lord, to bear what we have not strength to bear, but be favorable unto us, and spare us, and be merciful unto us. Thou art our patron, help us therefore against the unbelieving nations. [Footnote 22: This title was occasioned by the story of the red heifer, mentioned p. 217.] [Footnote 23: Concerning the creation of Adam, here intimated, the Mohammedans have several peculiar traditions. They say the angels, Gabriel, Michael, and Israfil, were sent by God, one after another, to fetch for that purpose seven handfuls of earth from different depths, and of different colors (whence some account for the various complexion of mankind); but the earth being apprehensive of the consequence, and desiring them to represent her fear to God that the creature he designed to form would rebel against him, and draw down his curse upon her, they returned without performing God's command; whereupon he sent Azraïl on the same errand, who executed his commission without remorse, for which reason God appointed that angel to separate the souls from the bodies, being therefore called the angel of death. The earth he had taken was carried into Arabia, to a place between Mecca and Tayef, where, being first kneaded by the angels, it was afterwards fashioned by God himself into a human form, and left to dry for the space of forty days, or, as others say, as many years, the angels in the meantime often visiting it, and Eblis (then one of the angels who are nearest to God's presence, afterwards the devil) among the rest; but he, not contented with looking on it, kicked it with his foot, and knowing God designed that creature to be his superior, took a secret resolution never to acknowledge him as such. After this, God animated the figure of clay and endued it with an intelligent soul, and when he had placed him in paradise, formed Eve out of his left side.] [Footnote 24: This occasion of the devil's fall has some affinity with an opinion which has been pretty much entertained among Christians, viz., that the angels being informed of God's intention to create man after his own image, and to dignify human nature by Christ's assuming it, some of them, thinking their glory to be eclipsed thereby, envied man's happiness, and so revolted.] [Footnote 25: The Jews are here called upon to receive the Koran, as verifying and confirming the Pentateuch, particularly with respect to the unity of God, and the mission of Mohammed. And they are exhorted not to conceal the passages of their law which bear witness to those truths, nor to corrupt them by publishing false copies of the Pentateuch, for which the writers were but poorly paid.] [Footnote 26: The person who cast this calf, the Mohammedans say, was (not Aaron but) al Sâmeri, one of the principal men among the children of Israel, some of whose descendants it is pretended still inhabit an island of that name in the Arabian Gulf. It was made of the rings and bracelets of gold, silver, and other materials, which the Israelites had borrowed of the Egyptians; for Aaron, who commanded in his brother's absence, having ordered al Sâmeri to collect those ornaments from the people, who carried on a wicked commerce with them, and to keep them together till the return of Moses; al Sâmeri, understanding the founder's art, put them into a furnace to melt them down into one mass, which came out in the form of a calf.] [Footnote 27: The eastern writers say these quails were of a peculiar kind, to be found nowhere but in Yaman, from whence they were brought by a south wind in great numbers to the Israelites' camp in the desert. The Arabs call these birds Salwä, which is plainly the same with the Hebrew Salwim, and say they have no bones, but are eaten whole.] [Footnote 28: The occasion of this sacrifice is thus related: A certain man at his death left his son, then a child, a cow-calf, which wandered in the desert till he came to age; at which time his mother told him the heifer was his, and bid him fetch her, and sell her for three pieces of gold. When the young man came to the market with his heifer, an angel in the shape of a man accosted him, and bid him six pieces of gold for her; but he would not take the money till he had asked his mother's consent; which when he had obtained, he returned to the market-place, and met the angel, who now offered him twice as much for the heifer, provided he would say nothing of it to his mother; but the young man refusing, went and acquainted her with the additional offer. The woman perceiving it was an angel, bid her son go back and ask him what must be done with the heifer; whereupon the angel told the young man that in a little time the children of Israel would buy that heifer of him at any price. And soon after it happened that an Israelite, named Hammiel, was killed by a relation of his, who, to prevent discovery, conveyed the body to a place considerably distant from that where the act was committed. The friends of the slain man accused some other persons of the murder before Moses; but they denying the fact, and there being no evidence to convict them, God commanded a cow, of such and such particular marks, to be killed; but there being no other which answered the description except the orphan's heifer, they were obliged to buy her for as much gold as her hide would hold; according to some, for her full weight in gold, and as others say, for ten times as much. This heifer they sacrificed, and the dead body being, by divine direction, struck with a part of it, revived, and standing up, named the person who had killed Him; after which it immediately fell down dead again. The whole story seems to be borrowed from the red heifer which was ordered by the Jewish law to be burnt, and the ashes kept for purifying those who happened to touch a dead corpse; and from the heifer directed to be slain for the expiation of an uncertain murder. See Deut. xxi. 1-9.] [Footnote 29: Those two Arabic words have both the same signification, viz., Look on us; and are a kind of salutation. Mohammed had a great aversion to the first, because the Jews frequently used it in derision, it being a word of reproach in their tongue. They alluded, it seems, to the Hebrew verb _ruá_, which signifies to be bad or mischievous.] [Footnote 30: By baptism is to be understood the religion which God instituted in the beginning; because the signs of it appear in the person who professes it, as the signs of water appear in the clothes of him that is baptized.] [Footnote 31: At first, Mohammed and his followers observed no particular rite in turning their faces towards any certain place, or quarter, of the world, when they prayed; it being declared to be perfectly indifferent.] [Footnote 32: For this reason, whenever the Mohammedans kill any animal for food, they always say, _Bismi allah_, or "In the name of God"; which, if it be neglected, they think it not lawful to eat of it.] [Footnote 33: This is the common practice in Mohammedan countries, particularly in Persia, where the relations of the deceased may take their choice, either to have the murderer put into their hands to be put to death, or else to accept of a pecuniary satisfaction.] [Footnote 34: That is, the legacy was not to exceed a third part of the testator's substance, nor to be given where there was no necessity. But this injunction is abrogated by the law concerning inheritances.] [Footnote 35: This person was al Akhnas Ebn Shoraik, a fair-spoken dissembler, who swore that he believed in Mohammed, and pretended to be one of his friends, and to contemn this world. But God here reveals to the prophet his hypocrisy and wickedness.] [Footnote 36: Setting fire to his neighbor's corn, and killing his asses by night.] [Footnote 37: The person here meant was one Soheib, who being persecuted by the idolaters of Mecca forsook all he had and fled to Medina.] [Footnote 38: Under the name of wine all sorts of strong and inebriating liquors are comprehended.] [Footnote 39: The original word, _al Meiser_, properly signifies a particular game performed with arrows, and much in use with the pagan Arabs. But by lots we are here to understand all games whatsoever, which are subject to chance or hazard, as dice and cards.] [Footnote 40: Some commentators expound this negatively, "That ye will not deal justly, nor be devout ..." For such wicked oaths, they say, were customary among the idolatrous inhabitants of Mecca; which gave occasion to the following saying of Mohammed: "When you swear to do a thing, and afterwards find it better to do otherwise, do that which is better, and make void your oath."] [Footnote 41: Yahya interprets this from a tradition of Mohammed, who, being asked which was the middle prayer, answered, The evening prayer, which was instituted by the prophet Solomon.] [Footnote 42: The following seven lines contain a magnificent description of the divine majesty and providence; but it must not be supposed the translation comes up to the dignity of the original. This passage is justly admired by the Mohammedans, who recite it in their prayers; and some of them wear it about them, engraved on an agate or other precious stone.] [Footnote 43: This throne, in Arabic called Corsi, is by the Mohammedans supposed to be God's tribunal, or seat of justice.] [Footnote 44: But this, say the Mohammedans, the Jews do, who receive Moses but reject Jesus; and the Christians, who receive both those prophets, but reject Mohammed.] [Footnote 45: That is, on the Jews, who, as the commentators tell us, were ordered to kill a man by way of atonement, to give one-fourth of their substance in alms, and to cut off an unclean ulcerous part, and were forbidden to eat fat, or animals that divided the hoof, and were obliged to observe the Sabbath, and other particulars wherein the Mohammedans are at liberty.] CHAPTER III Entitled, the Family of Imran[46]--Revealed at Medina _In the Name of the Most Merciful God_. A.L.M.[47] There is no God but God, the living, self-subsisting: He hath sent down unto thee the book of the Koran with truth, confirming that which was revealed before it; for he had formerly sent down the law and the gospel, a direction unto men; and he had also sent down the distinction between good and evil. Verily those who believe not the signs of God, shall suffer a grievous punishment; for God is mighty, able to revenge. Surely nothing is hidden from God, of that which is on earth, or in heaven: it is he who formeth you in the wombs, as he pleaseth; there is no God but he, the mighty, the wise. It is he who hath sent down unto thee the book, wherein are some verses clear to be understood, they are the foundation of the book; and others are parabolical. But they whose hearts are perverse will follow that which is parabolical therein, out of love of schism, and a desire of the interpretation thereof; yet none knoweth the interpretation thereof, except God. But they who are well grounded in knowledge say, We believe therein, the whole is from our Lord; and none will consider except the prudent. O Lord, cause not our hearts to swerve from truth, after thou hast directed us: and give us from thee mercy, for thou art he who giveth. O Lord, thou shalt surely gather mankind together, unto a day of resurrection: there is no doubt of it, for God will not be contrary to the promise. As for the infidels, their wealth shall not profit them anything, nor their children, against God: they shall be the fuel of hell fire. According to the wont of the people of Pharaoh, and of those who went before them, they charged our signs with a lie; but God caught them in their wickedness, and God is severe in punishing. Say unto those who believe not, Ye shall be overcome, and thrown together into hell; an unhappy couch shall it be. Ye have already had a miracle shown you in two armies, which attacked each other:[48] one army fought for God's true religion, but the other were infidels; they saw the faithful twice as many as themselves in their eyesight; for God strengthened with his help whom he pleaseth. Surely herein was an example unto men of understanding. The love and eager desire of wives, and children, and sums heaped up of gold and silver, and excellent horses, and cattle, and land, is prepared for men: this is the provision of the present life; but unto God shall be the most excellent return. Say, Shall I declare unto you better things than this? For those who are devout are prepared with their Lord, gardens through which rivers flow; therein shall they continue forever: and they shall enjoy wives free from impurity, and the favor of God; for God regardeth his servants; who say, O Lord, we do sincerely believe; forgive us therefore our sins, and deliver us from the pain of hell fire: the patient, and the lovers of truth, and the devout, and the alms-givers, and those who ask pardon early in the morning. God hath borne witness that there is no God but he; and the angels, and those who are endowed with wisdom, profess the same; who executed righteousness; there is no God but he; the mighty, the wise. Verily the true religion in the sight of God, is Islam;[49] and they who had received the scriptures dissented not therefrom, until after the knowledge of God's unity had come unto them, out of envy among themselves; but whosoever believeth not in the signs of God, verily God will be swift in bringing him to account. If they dispute with thee, say, I have resigned myself unto God, and he who followeth me doth the same: and say unto them who have received the scriptures, and to the ignorant, Do ye profess the religion of Islam? Now if they embrace Islam, they are surely directed; but if they turn their backs, verily unto thee belongeth preaching only; for God regardeth his servants. And unto those who believe not in the signs of God, and slay the prophets without a cause, and put those men to death who teach justice; denounce unto them a painful punishment. These are they whose works perish in this world, and in that which is to come; and they shall have none to help them. Hast thou not observed those unto whom part of the scripture was given? They were called unto the book of God, that it might judge between them; then some of them turned their backs, and retired afar-off. This they did because they said, The fire of hell shall by no means touch us, but for a certain number of days: and that which they had falsely devised, hath deceived them in their religion. How then will it be with them, when we shall gather them together at the day of judgment,[50] of which there is no doubt; and every soul shall be paid that which it hath gained, neither shall they be treated unjustly? Say, O God, who possessest the kingdom; thou givest the kingdom unto whom thou wilt, and thou takest away the kingdom from whom thou wilt: thou exaltest whom thou wilt, and thou humblest whom thou wilt: in thy hand is good, for thou art almighty. Thou makest the night to succeed the day: thou bringest forth the living out of the dead, and thou bringest forth the dead out of the living; and providest food for whom thou wilt without measure. Let not the faithful take the infidels for their protectors, rather than the faithful: he who doth this shall not be protected of God at all; unless ye fear any danger from them: but God warneth you to beware of himself; for unto God must ye return. Say, Whether ye conceal that which is in your breasts, or whether ye declare it, God knoweth it: for he knoweth whatever is in heaven, and whatever is on earth: God is almighty. On the last day every soul shall find the good which it hath wrought, present; and the evil which it hath wrought, it shall wish that between itself and that were a wide distance: but God warneth you to beware of himself; for God is gracious unto his servants. Say, If ye love God, follow me: then God shall love you, and forgive you your sins; for God is gracious and merciful. Say, Obey God, and his apostle: but if ye go back, verily God loveth not the unbelievers. God hath surely chosen Adam, and Noah, and the family of Abraham, and the family of Imran above the rest of the world; a race descending the one from the other: God is he who heareth and knoweth. Remember when the wife of Imran said, Lord, verily I have vowed unto thee that which is in my womb, to be dedicated to thy service: accept it therefore of me; for thou art he who heareth and knoweth. And when she was delivered of it, she said, Lord, verily I have brought forth a female (and God well knew what she had brought forth), and a male is not as a female: I have called her Mary; and I commend her to thy protection, and also her issue, against Satan driven away with stones. Therefore the Lord accepted her with a gracious acceptance, and caused her to bear an excellent offspring. And Zacharias took care of the child; whenever Zacharias went into the chamber to her, he found provisions with her; and he said, O Mary, whence hadst thou this? she answered, This is from God: for God provideth for whom he pleaseth without measure. There Zacharias called on his Lord, and said, Lord, give me from thee a good offspring, for thou art the hearer of prayer. And the angels called to him, while he stood praying in the chamber, saying, Verily God promiseth thee a son named John, who shall bear witness to the Word which cometh from God; an honorable person, chaste, and one of the righteous prophets. He answered, Lord, how shall I have a son, when old age hath overtaken me, and my wife is barren? The angel said, So God doth that which he pleaseth. Zacharias answered, Lord, give me a sign. The angel said, Thy sign shall be, that thou shalt speak unto no man for three days, otherwise than by gesture: remember thy Lord often, and praise him evening and morning. And when the angels said, O Mary, verily God hath chosen thee, and hath purified thee, and hath chosen thee above all the women of the world: O Mary, be devout towards thy Lord, and worship, and bow down with those who bow down. This is a secret history: we reveal it unto thee, although thou wast not present with them when they threw in their rods to cast lots which of them should have the education of Mary: neither wast thou with them, when they strove among themselves. When the angels said, O Mary, verily God sendeth thee good tidings, that thou shalt bear the Word, proceeding from himself; his name shall be Christ Jesus the son of Mary, honorable in this world and in the world to come, and one of those who approach near to the presence of God; and he shall speak unto men in the cradle, and when he is grown up;[51] and he shall be one of the righteous: she answered, Lord, how shall I have a son, since a man hath not touched me? the angel said, So God createth that which he pleaseth: when he decreeth a thing, he only saith unto it, Be, and it is: God shall teach him the scripture, and wisdom, and the law, and the gospel; and shall appoint him his apostle to the children of Israel; and he shall say, Verily I come unto you with a sign from your Lord; for I will make before you, of clay, as it were the figure of a bird; then I will breathe thereon, and it shall become a bird, by the permission of God: and I will heal him that hath been blind from his birth, and the leper: and I will raise the dead by the permission of God: and I will prophesy unto you what ye eat, and what ye lay up for store in your houses. Verily herein will be a sign unto you, if ye believe. And I come to confirm the Law which was revealed before me, and to allow unto you as lawful, part of that which hath been forbidden you:[52] and I come unto you with a sign from your Lord; therefore fear God, and obey me. Verily God is my Lord, and your Lord: therefore serve him. This is the right way. But when Jesus perceived their unbelief, he said, Who will be my helpers towards God? The apostles[53] answered, We will be the helpers of God; we believe in God, and do thou bear witness that we are true believers. O Lord, we believe in that which thou has sent down, and we have followed thy apostle; write us down therefore with those who bear witness of him. And the Jews devised a stratagem against him; but God devised a stratagem against them; and God is the best deviser of stratagems. When God said, O Jesus, verily I will cause thee to die, and I will take thee up unto me,[54] and I will deliver thee from the unbelievers; and I will place those who follow thee above the unbelievers, until the day of resurrection: then unto me shall ye return, and I will judge between you of that concerning which ye disagree. Moreover, as for the infidels, I will punish them with a grievous punishment in this world, and in that which is to come; and there shall be none to help them. But they who believe, and do that which is right, he shall give them their reward; for God loveth not the wicked doers. These signs and this prudent admonition do we rehearse unto thee. Verily the likeness of Jesus in the sight of God is as the likeness of Adam: he created him out of the dust, and then said unto him, Be; and he was. This is the truth from thy Lord; be not therefore one of those who doubt: and whoever shall dispute with thee concerning him, after the knowledge which hath been given thee, say unto them, Come, let us call together our sons, and your sons, and our wives, and your wives, and ourselves, and yourselves; then let us make imprecations, and lay the curse of God on those who lie. Verily this is a true history: and there is no God but God; and God is most mighty, and wise. If they turn back, God well knoweth the evil-doers. Say, O ye who have received the scripture, come to a just determination between us and you; that we worship not any except God, and associate no creature with him; and that the one of us take not the other for lords, beside God. But if they turn back, say, Bear witness that we are true believers. O ye to whom the scriptures have been given, why do ye dispute concerning Abraham, since the Law and the Gospel were not sent down until after him? Do ye not therefore understand? Behold ye are they who dispute concerning that which ye have some knowledge in; why therefore do ye dispute concerning that which ye have no knowledge of? God knoweth, but ye know not. Abraham was neither a Jew, nor a Christian; but he was of the true religion, one resigned unto God, and was not of the number of the idolaters. Verily the men who are the nearest of kin unto Abraham, are they who follow him; and this prophet, and they who believe on him: God is the patron of the faithful. Some of those who have received the scriptures desire to seduce you; but they seduce themselves only, and they perceive it not. O ye who have received the scriptures, why do ye not believe in the signs of God, since ye are witnesses of them? O ye who have received the scriptures, why do ye clothe truth with vanity, and knowingly hide the truth? And some of those to whom the scriptures were given, say, Believe in that which hath been sent down unto those who believe, in the beginning of the day, and deny it in the end thereof; that they may go back from their faith: and believe him only who followeth your religion. Say, Verily the true direction is the direction of God, that there may be given unto some other a revelation like unto what hath been given unto you. Will they dispute with you before your Lord? Say, Surely excellence is in the hand of God, he giveth it unto whom he pleaseth; God is bounteous and wise: he will confer peculiar mercy on whom he pleaseth; for God is endued with great beneficence. There is of those who have received the scriptures, unto whom if thou trust a talent, he will restore it unto thee; and there is also of them, unto whom if thou trust a dinar,[55] he will not restore it unto thee, unless thou stand over him continually with great urgency. This they do because they say, We are not obliged to observe justice with the heathen: but they utter a lie against God, knowingly. Yea; whoso keepeth his covenant, and feareth God, God surely loveth those who fear him. But they who make merchandise of God's covenant, and of their oaths, for a small price, shall have no portion in the next life, neither shall God speak to them or regard them on the day of resurrection, nor shall he cleanse them; but they shall suffer a grievous punishment. And there are certainly some of them, who read the scriptures perversely, that ye may think what they read to be really in the scriptures, yet it is not in the scripture; and they say, This is from God; but it is not from God: and they speak that which is false concerning God, against their own knowledge. It is not fit for a man, that God should give him a book of revelations, and wisdom, and prophecy; and then he should say unto men, Be ye worshippers of me, besides God; but he ought to say, Be ye perfect in knowledge and in works, since ye know the scriptures, and exercise yourselves therein. God hath not commanded you to take the angels and the prophets for your Lords: Will he command you to become infidels, after ye have been true believers? And remember when God accepted the covenant of the prophets, saying, This verily is the scripture and the wisdom which I have given you: hereafter shall an apostle come unto you, confirming the truth of that scripture which is with you; ye shall surely believe on him, and ye shall assist him. God said, Are ye firmly resolved, and do ye accept my covenant on this condition? They answered, We are firmly resolved: God said, Be ye therefore witnesses; and I also bear witness with you: and whosoever turneth back after this, they are surely the transgressors. Do they therefore seek any other religion but God's? since to him is resigned whosoever is in heaven or on earth, voluntarily, or of force: and to him shall they return. Say, We believe in God, and that which hath been sent down unto us, and that which was sent down unto Abraham, and Ismael, and Isaac, and Jacob, and the tribes, and that which was delivered to Moses, and Jesus, and the prophets from their Lord; we make no distinction between any of them; and to him are we resigned. Whoever followeth any other religion than Islam, it shall not be accepted of him: and in the next life he shall be of those who perish. How shall God direct men who have become infidels after they had believed, and borne witness that the apostle was true, and manifest declarations of the divine will had come unto them? for God directeth not the ungodly people. Their reward shall be, that on them shall fall the curse of God, and of angels, and of all mankind: they shall remain under the same forever; their torment shall not be mitigated, neither shall they be regarded; except those who repent after this, and amend; for God is gracious and merciful. Moreover they who become infidels after they have believed, and yet increase in infidelity, their repentance shall in no wise be accepted, and they are those who go astray. Verily they who believe not, and die in their unbelief, the world full of gold shall in no wise be accepted from any of them, even though he should give it for his ransom; they shall suffer a grievous punishment, and they shall have none to help them. Ye will never attain unto righteousness, until ye give in alms of that which ye love: and whatever ye give, God knoweth it. All food was permitted unto the children of Israel, except what Israel forbade unto himself before the Pentateuch was sent down. Say unto the Jews, Bring hither the Pentateuch and read it, if ye speak truth. Whoever therefore contriveth a lie against God after this, they will be evil-doers. Say, God is true: follow ye therefore the religion of Abraham the orthodox; for he was no idolater. Verily the first house appointed unto men to worship in was that which is in Becca;[56] blessed, and a direction to all creatures. Therein are manifest signs: the place where Abraham stood; and whoever entereth therein, shall be safe. And it is a duty towards God, incumbent on those who are able to go thither, to visit this house; but whosoever disbelieveth, verily God needeth not the service of any creature. Say, O ye who have received the scriptures, why do ye not believe in the signs of God? Say, O ye who have received the scriptures, why do ye keep back from the way of God him who believeth? Ye seek to make it crooked, and yet are witnesses that it is the right: but God will not be unmindful of what ye do. O true believers, if ye obey some of those who have received the scripture, they will render you infidels, after ye have believed: and how can ye be infidels, when the signs of God are read unto you, and his apostle is among you? But he who cleaveth firmly unto God, is already directed into the right way. O believers, fear God with his true fear; and die not unless ye also be true believers. And cleave all of you unto the covenant of God, and depart not from it, and remember the favor of God towards you: since ye were enemies, and he reconciled your hearts, and ye became companions and brethren by his favor: and ye were on the brink of a pit of fire, and he delivered you thence. Thus God declareth unto you his signs, that ye may be directed. Let there be people among you, who invite to the best religion; and command that which is just, and forbid that which is evil; and they shall be happy. And be not as they who are divided, and disagree in matters of religion, after manifest proofs have been brought unto them: they shall suffer a great torment. On the day of resurrection some faces shall become white, and other faces shall become black. And unto them whose faces shall become black, God will say, Have ye returned unto your unbelief, after ye had believed? therefore taste the punishment, for that ye have been unbelievers: but they whose faces shall become white shall be in the mercy of God, therein shall they remain forever. These are the signs of God: we recite them unto thee with truth. God will not deal unjustly with his creatures. And to God belongeth whatever is in heaven and on earth; and to God shall all things return. Ye are the best nation that hath been raised up unto mankind: ye command that which is just, and ye forbid that which is unjust, and ye believe in God. And if they who have received the scriptures had believed, it had surely been the better for them: there are believers among them, but the greater part of them are transgressors. They shall not hurt you, unless with a slight hurt; and if they fight against you, they shall turn their backs to you, and they shall not be helped. They are smitten with vileness wheresoever they are found; unless they obtain security by entering into a treaty with God, and a treaty with men: and they draw on themselves indignation from God, and they are afflicted with poverty. This they suffer, because they disbelieved the signs of God, and slew the prophets unjustly; this, because they were rebellious, and transgressed. Yet they are not all alike: there are of those who have received the scriptures, upright people; they meditate on the signs of God in the night season, and worship; they believe in God and the last day; and command that which is just, and forbid that which is unjust, and zealously strive to excel in good works: these are of the righteous. And ye shall not be denied the reward of the good which ye do; for God knoweth the pious. As for the unbelievers, their wealth shall not profit them at all, neither their children, against God: they shall be the companions of hell fire; they shall continue therein forever. The likeness of that which they lay out in this present life, is as a wind wherein there is a scorching cold: it falleth on the standing corn of those men who have injured their own souls, and destroyeth it. And God dealeth not unjustly with them; but they injure their own souls. O true believers, contract not an intimate friendship with any besides yourselves: they will not fail to corrupt you. They wish for that which may cause you to perish: their hatred hath already appeared from out of their mouths; but what their breasts conceal is yet more inveterate. We have already shown you signs of their ill-will towards you, if ye understand. Behold, ye love them, and they do not love you: ye believe in all the scriptures, and when they meet you, they say, We believe; but when they assemble privately together, they bite their fingers' ends out of wrath against you. Say unto them, Die in your wrath: verily God knoweth the innermost part of your breasts. If good happen unto you, it grieveth them; and if evil befall you, they rejoice at it. But if ye be patient, and fear God, their subtlety shall not hurt you at all; for God comprehendeth whatever they do. Call to mind when thou wentest forth early from thy family, that thou mightest prepare the faithful a camp for war; and God heard and knew it; when two companies of you were anxiously thoughtful, so that ye became faint-hearted; but God was the supporter of them both; and in God let the faithful trust. And God had already given you the victory at Bedr, when ye were inferior in number; therefore fear God, that ye may be thankful. When thou saidst unto the faithful, Is it not enough for you, that your Lord should assist you with three thousand angels, sent down from heaven? Verily if ye persevere, and fear God, and your enemies come upon you suddenly, your Lord will assist you with five thousand angels, distinguished by their horses and attire. And this God designed only as good tidings for you that your hearts might rest secure: for victory is from God alone, the mighty, the wise. That he should cut off the uttermost part of the unbelievers, or cast them down, or that they should be overthrown and unsuccessful, is nothing to thee. It is no business of thine; whether God be turned unto them, or whether he punish them; they are surely unjust doers. To God belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth: he spareth whom he pleaseth, and he punisheth whom he pleaseth; for God is merciful. O true believers, devour not usury, doubling it twofold; but fear God, that ye may prosper: and fear the fire which is prepared for the unbelievers; and obey God, and his apostle, that ye may obtain mercy. And run with emulation to obtain remission from your Lord, and paradise, whose breath equalleth the heavens and the earth, which is prepared for the godly; who give alms in prosperity and adversity; who bridle their anger and forgive men: for God loveth the beneficent.[57] And who, after they have committed a crime, or dealt unjustly with their own souls, remember God, and ask pardon for their sins (for who forgiveth sins except God?) and persevere not in what they have done knowingly: their reward shall be pardon from their Lord, and gardens wherein rivers flow, they shall remain therein forever: and how excellent is the reward of those who labor! There have already been before you examples of punishment of infidels, therefore go through the earth, and behold what hath been the end of those who accuse God's apostles of imposture. This book is a declaration unto men, and a direction and an admonition to the pious. And be not dismayed, neither be ye grieved; for ye shall be superior to the unbelievers if ye believe. If a wound hath happened unto you in war, a like wound hath already happened unto the unbelieving people: and we cause these days of different success interchangeably to succeed each other among men; that God may know those who believe, and may have martyrs from among you (God loveth not the workers of iniquity); and that God might prove those who believe, and destroy the infidels. Did ye imagine that ye should enter paradise, when as yet God knew not those among you who fought strenuously in his cause; nor knew those who persevered with patience? Moreover ye did some time wish for death before that ye met it; but ye have now seen it, and ye looked on, but retreated from it. Mohammed is no more than an apostle; the other apostles have already deceased before him: if he die therefore, or be slain, will ye turn back on your heels? but he who turneth back on his heels, will not hurt God at all; and God will surely reward the thankful. No soul can die unless by the permission of God, according to what is written in the book containing the determinations of things. And whoso chooseth the reward of this world, we will give him thereof: but whoso chooseth the reward of the world to come, we will give him thereof; and we will surely reward the thankful. How many prophets have encountered those who had many myriads of troops: and yet they desponded not in their mind for what had befallen them in fighting for the religion of God, and were not weakened, neither behaved themselves in an abject manner? God loveth those who persevere patiently. And their speech was no other than that they said, Our Lord forgive us our offences, and our transgressions in our business; and confirm our feet, and help us against the unbelieving people. And God gave them the reward of this world, and a glorious reward in the life to come; for God loveth the well-doers. O ye who believe, if ye obey the infidels, they will cause you to turn back on your heels, and ye will be turned back and perish: but God is your Lord; and he is the best helper. We will surely cast a dread into the hearts of the unbelievers, because they have associated with God that concerning which he sent them down no power: their dwelling shall be the fire of hell; and the receptacle of the wicked shall be miserable. God had already made good unto you his promise, when ye destroyed them by his permission, until ye became faint-hearted, and disputed concerning the command of the apostle, and were rebellious; after God had shown you what ye desired. Some of you chose this present world, and others of you chose the world to come. Then he turned you to flight from before them, that he might make trial of you (but he hath now pardoned you; for God is endued with beneficence towards the faithful); when ye went up as ye fled, and looked not back on any; while the apostle called you, in the uttermost part of you. Therefore God rewarded you with affliction on affliction, that ye be not grieved hereafter for the spoils which ye fail of, nor for that which befalleth you; for God is well acquainted with whatever ye do. Then he sent down upon you after affliction security; soft sleep which fell on some part of you; but other parts were troubled by their own souls; falsely thinking of God a foolish imagination, saying, Will anything of the matter happen unto us? Say, Verily the matter belongeth wholly unto God. They concealed in their minds what they declared not unto thee; saying, If anything of the matter had happened unto us, we had not been slain here. Answer, If ye had been in your houses, verily they would have gone forth to fight, whose slaughter was decreed, to the places where they died, and this came to pass that God might try what was in your breasts, and might discern what was in your hearts; for God knoweth the innermost parts of the breasts of men. Verily they among you who turned their backs on the day whereon the two armies met each other at Ohod, Satan caused them to slip, for some crime which they had committed: but now hath God forgiven them; for God is gracious and merciful. O true believers, be not as they who believe not, and said of their brethren, when they had journeyed in the land or had been at war, If they had been with us, those had not died, nor had these been slain: whereas what befell them was so ordained that God might make it matter of sighing in their hearts. God giveth life, and causeth to die: and God seeth that which ye do. Moreover, if ye be slain, or die in defence of the religion of God; verily pardon from God, and mercy, is better than what they heap together of worldly riches. And if ye die, or be slain, verily unto God shall ye be gathered. And as to the mercy granted unto the disobedient from God, thou, O Mohammed, hast been mild towards them; but if thou hadst been severe and hard-hearted, they had surely separated themselves from about thee. Therefore forgive them, and ask pardon for them: and consult them in the affair of war; and after thou hast deliberated, trust in God; for God loveth those who trust in him. If God help you, none shall conquer you; but if he desert you, who is it that will help you after him? Therefore in God let the faithful trust. It is not the part of a prophet to defraud, for he who defraudeth, shall bring with him what he hath defrauded anyone of, on the day of the resurrection.[58] Then shall every soul be paid what he hath gained; and they shall not be treated unjustly. Shall he therefore who followeth that which is well pleasing unto God, be as he who bringeth on himself wrath from God, and whose receptacle is hell? an evil journey shall it be thither. There shall be degrees of rewards and punishments with God, for God seeth what they do. Now hath God been gracious unto the believers when he raised up among them an apostle of their own nation,[59] who should recite his signs unto them, and purify them, and teach them the book of the Koran and wisdom; whereas they were before in manifest error. After a misfortune hath befallen you at Ohod (ye had already obtained two equal advantages), do ye say, Whence cometh this? Answer, This is from yourselves: for God is almighty. And what happened unto you, on the day whereon the two armies met, was certainly by the permission of God; and that he might know the faithful, and that he might know the ungodly. It was said unto them, Come, fight for the religion of God, or drive back the enemy: they answered, If we had known ye went out to fight, we had certainly followed you. They were on that day nearer unto unbelief than they were to faith; they spake with their mouths what was not in their hearts; but God perfectly knew what they concealed; who said of their brethren, while themselves stayed at home, if they had obeyed us, they had not been slain. Say, Then keep back death from yourselves, if ye say truth. Thou shalt in no wise reckon those who have been slain at Ohod in the cause of God, dead; nay, they are sustained alive with their Lord, rejoicing for what God of his favor hath granted them; and being glad for those who, coming after them, have not as yet overtaken them, because there shall no fear come on them, neither shall they be grieved. They are filled with joy for the favor which they have received from God, and his bounty; and for that God suffereth not the reward of the faithful to perish. They who hearkened unto God and his apostle, after a wound had befallen them at Ohod, such of them as do good works, and fear God, shall have a great reward; unto whom certain men said, Verily the men of Mecca have already gathered forces against you, be ye therefore afraid of them: but this increaseth their faith, and they said, God is our support, and the most excellent patron. Wherefore they returned with favor from God, and advantage; no evil befell them: and they followed what was well pleasing unto God; for God is endowed with great liberality. Verily that devil would cause you to fear his friends: but be ye not afraid of them; but fear me, if ye be true believers. They shall not grieve thee, who emulously hasten unto infidelity; for they shall never hurt God at all. God will not give them a part in the next life, and they shall suffer a great punishment. Surely those who purchase infidelity with faith, shall by no means hurt God at all, but they shall suffer a grievous punishment. And let not the unbelievers think, because we grant them lives long and prosperous, that it is better for their souls: we grant them long and prosperous lives only that their iniquity may be increased; and they shall suffer an ignominious punishment. God is not disposed to leave the faithful in the condition which ye are now in, until he sever the wicked from the good; nor is God disposed to make you acquainted with what is a hidden secret, but God chooseth such of his apostles as he pleaseth, to reveal his mind unto: believe, therefore, in God, and his apostles; and if ye believe, and fear God, ye shall receive a great reward. And let not those who are covetous of what God of his bounty hath granted them, imagine that their avarice is better for them: nay, rather it is worse for them. That which they have covetously reserved shall be bound as a collar about their neck,[60] on the day of the resurrection; unto God belongeth the inheritance of heaven and earth; and God is well acquainted with what ye do. God hath already heard the saying of those who said, Verily God is poor, and we are rich: we will surely write down what they have said, and the slaughter which they have made of the prophets without a cause; and we will say unto them, Taste ye the pain of burning. This shall they suffer for the evil which their hands have sent before them, and because God is not unjust towards mankind; who also say, Surely God hath commanded us, that we should not give credit to any apostle, until one should come unto us with a sacrifice, which should be consumed by fire. Say, Apostles have already come unto you before me, with plain proofs, and with the miracle which ye mention: why therefore have ye slain them, if ye speak truth? If they accuse thee of imposture, the apostles before thee have also been accounted impostors, who brought evident demonstrations, and the scriptures, and the book which enlightened the understanding. Every soul shall taste of death, and ye shall have your rewards on the day of resurrection; and he who shall be far removed from hell fire, and shall be admitted into paradise, shall be happy: but the present life is only a deceitful provision. Ye shall surely be proved in your possessions, and in your persons; and ye shall bear from those unto whom the scripture was delivered before you, and from the idolaters, much hurt: but if ye be patient, and fear God, this is a matter that is absolutely determined. And when God accepted the covenant of those to whom the book of the law was given, saying, Ye shall surely publish it unto mankind, ye shall not hide it; yet they threw it behind their backs, and sold it for a small price; but woful is the price for which they have sold it.[61] Think not that they who rejoice at what they have done, and expect to be praised for what they have not done; think not, O prophet, that they shall escape from punishment, for they shall suffer a painful punishment; and unto God belongeth the kingdom of heaven and earth; God is almighty. Now in the creation of heaven and earth, and the vicissitude of night and day, are signs unto those who are endued with understanding; who remember God standing, and sitting, and lying on their sides; and meditate on the creation of heaven and earth, saying, O Lord, thou hast not created this in vain; far be it from thee: therefore deliver us from the torment of hell fire. O Lord, surely whom thou shalt throw into the fire, thou wilt also cover with shame; nor shall the ungodly have any to help them. O Lord, we have heard of a preacher[62] inviting us to the faith, and saying, Believe in your Lord: and we believed. O Lord, forgive us therefore our sins, and expiate our evil deeds from us, and make us to die with the righteous. O Lord, give us also the reward which thou hast promised by thy apostles; and cover us not with shame on the day of resurrection; for thou art not contrary to the promise. Their Lord therefore answereth them, saying, I will not suffer the work of him among you who worketh to be lost, whether he be male or female: the one of you is from the other. They therefore who have left their country, and have been turned out of their houses, and have suffered for my sake, and have been slain in battle; verily I will expiate their evil deeds from them, and I will surely bring them into gardens watered by rivers; a reward from God: and with God is the most excellent reward. Let not the prosperous dealing of the unbelievers in the land deceive thee: it is but a slender provision; and then their receptacle shall be hell; an unhappy couch shall it be. But they who fear their Lord shall have gardens through which rivers flow, they shall continue therein forever: this is the gift of God; for what is with God shall be better for the righteous than short-lived worldly prosperity. There are some of those who have received the scriptures, who believe in God, and that which hath been sent down unto you, and that which hath been sent down to them, submitting themselves unto God; they tell not the signs of God for a small price: these shall have their reward with their Lord; for God is swift in taking an account. O true believers, be patient, and strive to excel in patience, and be constant-minded, and fear God, that ye may be happy. [Footnote 46: This name is given in the Koran to the father of the Virgin Mary.] [Footnote 47: The word Koran, derived from the verb _Karaa_, i.e., to read, signifies in Arabic "the reading," or rather "that which is to be read." The syllable _Al_, in the words Al Koran, is only the Arabic article signifying "the," and ought to be omitted when the English article is prefixed.] [Footnote 48: The miracle, it is said, consisted in three things: (1.) Mohammed, by the direction of the angel Gabriel, took a handful of gravel and threw it towards the enemy in the attack, saying, "May their faces be confounded"; whereupon they immediately turned their backs and fled. But, though the prophet seemingly threw the gravel himself, yet it is told in the Koran that it was not he, but God, who threw it, that is to say, by the ministry of his angel. (2.) The Mohammedan troops seemed to the infidels to be twice as many in number as themselves, which greatly discouraged them. (3.) God sent down to their assistance first a thousand, and afterwards three thousand angels, led by Gabriel, mounted on his horse Haizum; and, according to the Koran, these celestial auxiliaries really did all the execution, though Mohammed's men imagined themselves did it, and fought stoutly at the same time.] [Footnote 49: The proper name of the Mohammedan religion, which signifies the resigning or devoting one's self entirely to God and his service. This they say is the religion which all the prophets were sent to teach, being founded on the unity of God.] [Footnote 50: The Mohammedans have a tradition that the first banner of the infidels that shall be set up, on the day of judgment, will be that of the Jews; and that God will first reproach them with their wickedness, over the heads of those who are present, and then order them to hell.] [Footnote 51: This phrase signifies a man in full age, that is, between thirty and thirty-four.] [Footnote 52: Such as the eating of fish that have neither fins nor scales, the caul and fat of animals, and camel's flesh, and to work on the Sabbath.] [Footnote 53: In Arabic, _al Hawâriyûn_: which word they derive from _Hâra_, "to be white," and suppose the apostles were so-called either from the candor and sincerity of their minds, or because they were princes and wore white garments, or else because they were by trade fullers.] [Footnote 54: Some Mohammedans say this was done by the ministry of Gabriel; but others that a strong whirlwind took him up from Mount Olivet.] [Footnote 55: A gold coin worth about $2.50.] [Footnote 56: Becca is another name of Mecca. Al Beidâwi observes that the Arabs used the "M" and "B" promiscuously in several words.] [Footnote 57: It is related of Hasan the son of Ali that a slave having once thrown a dish on him boiling hot, as he sat at table, and fearing his master's resentment, fell immediately on his knees, and repeated these words, "Paradise is for those who bridle their anger." Hasan answered, "I am not angry." The slave proceeded, "and for those who forgive men." "I forgive you," said Hasan. The slave, however, finished the verse, adding, "for God loveth the beneficent." "Since it is so," replied Hasan, "I give you your liberty, and four hundred pieces of silver." A noble instance of moderation and generosity.] [Footnote 58: According to a tradition of Mohammed, whoever cheateth another will on the day of judgment carry his fraudulent purchase publicly on his neck.] [Footnote 59: Some copies, instead of _min anfosihim_, i.e., of themselves, read _min anfasihim_, i.e., of the noblest among them; for such was the tribe of Koreish, of which Mohammed was descended.] [Footnote 60: Mohammed is said to have declared, that whoever pays not his legal contribution of alms duly shall have a serpent twisted about his neck at the resurrection.] [Footnote 61: That is, dearly shall they pay hereafter for taking bribes to stifle the truth. "Whoever concealeth the knowledge which God has given him," says Mohammed, "God shall put on him a bridle of fire on the day of resurrection."] [Footnote 62: Namely, Mohammed, with the Koran.] CHAPTER IV Entitled, Women[63]--Revealed at Medina _In the Name of the Most Merciful God._ O men, fear your Lord, who hath created you out of one man, and out of him created his wife, and from them two hath multiplied many men and women: and fear God by whom ye beseech one another; and respect women who have borne you, for God is watching over you. And give the orphans when they come to age their substance; and render them not in exchange bad for good: and devour not their substance, by adding it to your substance; for this is a great sin. And if ye fear that ye shall not act with equity towards orphans of the female sex, take in marriage of such other women as please you, two, or three, or four, and not more. But if ye fear that ye cannot act equitably towards so many, marry one only, or the slaves which ye shall have acquired. This will be easier, that ye swerve not from righteousness. And give women their dowry freely; but if they voluntarily remit unto you any part of it, enjoy it with satisfaction and advantage. And give not unto those who are weak of understanding, the substance which God hath appointed you to preserve for them; but maintain them thereout, and clothe them, and speak kindly unto them. And examine the orphans until they attain the age of marriage: but if ye perceive they are able to manage their affairs well, deliver their substance unto them; and waste it not extravagantly, or hastily, because they grow up. Let him who is rich abstain entirely from the orphan's estates; and let him who is poor take thereof according to what shall be reasonable. And when ye deliver their substance unto them, call witnesses thereof in their presence: God taketh sufficient account of your actions. Men ought to have a part of what their parents and kindred leave behind them when they die: and women also ought to have a part of what their parents and kindred leave, whether it be little, or whether it be much; a determinate part is due to them. And when they who are of kin are present at the dividing of what is left, and also the orphans, and the poor; distribute unto them some part thereof; and if the estate be too small, at least speak comfortably unto them. And let those fear to abuse orphans, who if they leave behind them a weak offspring, are solicitous for them: let them therefore fear God, and speak that which is convenient. Surely they who devour the possessions of orphans unjustly, shall swallow down nothing but fire into their bellies, and shall broil in raging flames. God hath thus commanded you concerning your children. A male shall have as much as the share of two females: but if they be females only, and above two in number, they shall have two third-parts of what the deceased shall leave; and if there be but one, she shall have the half. And the parents of the deceased shall have each of them a sixth part of what he shall leave, if he have a child: but if he have no child, and his parents be his heirs, then his mother shall have the third part. And if he have brethren, his mother shall have a sixth part, after the legacies[64] which he shall bequeath, and his debts be paid. Ye know not whether your parents or your children be of greater use unto you. This is an ordinance from God, and God is knowing and wise. Moreover, ye may claim half of what your wives shall leave, if they have no issue; but if they have issue, then ye shall have the fourth part of what they shall leave, after the legacies which they shall bequeath, and the debts be paid. They also shall have the fourth part of what ye shall leave, in case ye have no issue; but if ye have issue, then they shall have the eighth part of what ye shall leave, after the legacies which ye shall bequeath and your debts be paid. And if a man or woman's substance be inherited by a distant relation, and he or she have a brother or sister; each of them two shall have a sixth part of the estate. But if there be more than this number, they shall be equal sharers in a third part, after payment of the legacies which shall be bequeathed, and the debts, without prejudice to the heirs. This is an ordinance from God: and God is knowing and gracious. These are the statutes of God. And whoso obeyeth God and his apostle, God shall lead him into gardens wherein rivers flow, they shall continue therein forever; and this shall be great happiness. But whoso disobeyeth God, and his apostle, and transgresseth his statutes, God shall cast him into hell fire; he shall remain therein forever, and he shall suffer a shameful punishment. If any of your women be guilty of whoredom, produce four witnesses from among you against them, and if they bear witness against them, imprison them in separate apartments until death release them, or God affordeth them a way to escape.[65] And if two of you commit the like wickedness, punish them both: but if they repent and amend, let them both alone; for God is easy to be reconciled and merciful. Verily repentance will be accepted with God, from those who do evil ignorantly, and then repent speedily; unto them will God be turned: for God is knowing and wise. But no repentance shall be accepted from those who do evil until the time when death presenteth itself unto one of them, and he saith, Verily, I repent now; nor unto those who die unbelievers: for them have we prepared a grievous punishment. O true believers, it is not lawful for you to be heirs of women against their will, nor to hinder them from marrying others, that ye may take away part of what ye have given them in dowry; unless they have been guilty of a manifest crime: but converse kindly with them. And if ye hate them, it may happen that ye may hate a thing wherein God hath placed much good. If ye be desirous to exchange a wife for another wife, and ye have already given one of them a talent; take not away anything therefrom: will ye take it by slandering her, and doing her manifest injustice? And how can ye take it, since the one of you hath gone in unto the other, and they have received from you a firm covenant? Marry not women whom your fathers have had to wife (except what is already past): for this is uncleanness, and an abomination, and an evil way. Ye are forbidden to marry your mothers, and your daughters, and your sisters, and your aunts both on the father's and on the mother's side, and your brother's daughters, and your sister's daughters, and your mothers who have given you suck, and your foster-sisters, and your wives' mothers, and your daughters-in-law which are under your tuition, born of your wives unto whom ye have gone in (but if ye have not gone in unto them, it shall be no sin in you to marry them), and the wives of your sons who proceed out of your loins; and ye are also forbidden to take to wife two sisters; except what is already past: for God is gracious and merciful. Ye are also forbidden to take to wife free women who are married, except those women whom your right hands shall possess as slaves.[66] This is ordained you from God. Whatever is beside this, is allowed you; that ye may with your substance provide wives for yourselves, acting that which is right, and avoiding whoredom. And for the advantage which ye receive from them, give them their reward, according to what is ordained: but it shall be no crime in you to make any other agreement among yourselves, after the ordinance shall be complied with; for God is knowing and wise. Whoso among you hath not means sufficient that he may marry free women, who are believers, let him marry with such of your maid-servants whom your right hands possess, as are true believers; for God well knoweth your faith. Ye are the one from the other; therefore marry them with the consent of their masters; and give them their dower according to justice; such as are modest, not guilty of whoredom, nor entertaining lovers. And when they are married, if they be guilty of adultery, they shall suffer half the punishment which is appointed for the free women.[67] This is allowed unto him among you, who feareth to sin by marrying free women; but if ye abstain from marrying slaves, it will be better for you; God is gracious and merciful. God is willing to declare these things unto you, and to direct you according to the ordinances of those who have gone before you, and to be merciful unto you. God is knowing and wise. God desireth to be gracious unto you; but they who follow their lusts, desire that ye should turn aside from the truth with great deviation. God is minded to make his religion light unto you: for man was created weak. O true believers, consume not your wealth among yourselves in vanity; unless there be merchandising among you by mutual consent: neither slay yourselves; for God is merciful towards you: and whoever doth this maliciously and wickedly, he will surely cast him to be broiled in hell fire; and this is easy with God. If ye turn aside from the grievous sins,[68] of those which ye are forbidden to commit, we will cleanse you from your smaller faults; and will introduce you into paradise with an honorable entry. Covet not that which God hath bestowed on some of you preferably to others.[69] Unto the men shall be given a portion of what they shall have gained, and unto the women shall be given a portion of what they shall have gained: therefore ask God of his bounty; for God is omniscient. We have appointed unto everyone kindred, to inherit part of what their parents and relations shall leave at their deaths. And unto those with whom your right hands have made an alliance, give their part of the inheritance; for God is witness of all things. Men shall have the preeminence above women, because of those advantages wherein God hath caused the one of them to excel the other, and for that which they expend of their substance in maintaining their wives. The honest women are obedient, careful in the absence of their husbands, for that God preserveth them, by committing them to the care and protection of the men. But those, whose perverseness ye shall be apprehensive of, rebuke; and remove them into separate apartments, and chastise them.[70] But if they shall be obedient unto you, seek not an occasion of quarrel against them; for God is high and great. And if ye fear a breach between the husband and wife, send a judge out of his family, and a judge out of her family: if they shall desire a reconciliation, God will cause them to agree; for God is knowing and wise. Serve God, and associate no creature with him; and show kindness unto parents, and relations, and orphans, and the poor, and your neighbor who is of kin to you, and also your neighbor who is a stranger, and to your familiar companion, and the traveller, and the captives whom your right hands shall possess; for God loveth not the proud or vain-glorious, who are covetous, and recommend covetousness unto men, and conceal that which God of his bounty hath given them (we have prepared a shameful punishment for the unbelievers); and who bestow their wealth in charity to be observed of men, and believe not in God, nor in the last day; and whoever hath Satan for a companion, an evil companion hath he! And what harm would befall them if they should believe in God and the last day, and give alms out of that which God hath bestowed on them? since God knoweth them who do this. Verily God will not wrong anyone even the weight of an ant: and if it be a good action, he will double it, and will recompense it in his sight with a great reward. How will it be with the unbelievers when we shall bring a witness out of each nation against itself, and shall bring thee, O Mohammed, a witness against these people? In that day they who have not believed, and have rebelled against the apostle of God, shall wish the earth was levelled with them; and they shall not be able to hide any matter from God. O true believers, come not to prayers when ye are drunk, until ye understand what ye say; nor when ye are polluted by emission of seed, unless ye be travelling on the road, until ye wash yourselves. But if ye be sick, or on a journey, or any of you come from easing nature, or have touched women, and find no water; take fine clean sand and rub your faces and your hands therewith; for God is merciful and inclined to forgive. Hast thou not observed those unto whom part of the scriptures was delivered? they sell error, and desire that ye may wander from the right way; but God well knoweth your enemies. God is a sufficient patron, and God is a sufficient helper. Of the Jews there are some who pervert words from their places; and say, We have heard, and have disobeyed; and do thou hear without understanding our meaning, and look upon us: perplexing with their tongues, and reviling the true religion. But if they had said, We have heard, and do obey; and do thou hear, and regard us: certainly it were better for them, and more right. But God hath cursed them by reason of their infidelity; therefore a few of them only shall believe. O ye to whom the scriptures have been given, believe in the revelation which we have sent down, confirming that which is with you; before we deface your countenances, and render them as the back parts thereof; or curse them, as we cursed those who transgressed on the Sabbath day; and the command of God was fulfilled. Surely God will not pardon the giving him an equal; but will pardon any other sin, except that, to whom he pleaseth; and whoso giveth a companion unto God, hath devised a great wickedness. Hast thou not observed those who justify themselves? But God justifieth whomsoever he pleaseth, nor shall they be wronged a hair. Behold, how they imagine a lie against God; and therein is iniquity sufficiently manifest. Hast thou not considered those to whom part of the scripture hath been given? They believe in false gods and idols,[71] and say of those who believe not, These are more rightly directed in the way of truth than they who believe on Mohammed. Those are the men whom God hath cursed; and unto him whom God shall curse, thou shalt surely find no helper. Shall they have a part of the kingdom, since even then they would not bestow the smallest matter on men? Do they envy other men that which God of his bounty hath given them? We formerly gave unto the family of Abraham a book of revelations and wisdom; and we gave them a great kingdom. There is of them who believeth on him; and there is of them who turneth aside from him: but the raging fire of hell is a sufficient punishment. Verily, those who disbelieve our signs, we will surely cast to be broiled in hell fire; so often as their skins shall be well burned, we will give them other skins in exchange, that they may taste the sharper torment; for God is mighty and wise. But those who believe and do that which is right, we will bring into gardens watered by rivers: therein shall they remain forever, and there shall they enjoy wives free from all impurity; and we will lead them into perpetual shades. Moreover, God commandeth you to restore what ye are trusted with, to the owners; and when ye judge between men, that ye judge according to equity: and surely an excellent virtue it is to which God exhorteth you; for God both heareth and seeth. O true believers, obey God, and obey the apostle, and those who are in authority among you: and if ye differ in anything, refer it unto God[72] and the apostle, if ye believe in God and the last day: this is better, and a fairer method of determination. Hast thou not observed those who pretend they believe in what hath been revealed unto thee, and what hath been revealed before thee? They desire to go to judgment before Taghût, although they have been commanded not to believe in him; and Satan desireth to seduce them into a wide error. And when it is said unto them, Come unto the book which God hath sent down, and to the apostle; thou seest the ungodly turn aside from thee, with great aversion. But how will they behave when a misfortune shall befall them, for that which their hands have sent before them? Then will they come unto thee, and swear by God, saying, We intended no other than to do good, and to reconcile the parties. God knoweth what is in the hearts of these men; therefore let them alone, and admonish them, and speak unto them a word which may affect their souls. We have not sent any apostle, but that he might be obeyed by the permission of God: but if they, after they have injured their own souls, come unto thee, and ask pardon of God, and the apostle ask pardon for them, they shall surely find God easy to be reconciled and merciful. And by thy Lord they will not perfectly believe, until they make thee judge of their controversies; and shall not afterwards find in their own minds any hardship in what thou shalt determine, but shall acquiesce therein with entire submission. And if we had commanded them, saying, Slay yourselves, or depart from your houses, they would not have done it, except a few of them. And if they had done what they were admonished, it would certainly have been better for them, and more efficacious for confirming their faith; and we should then have surely given them in our sight an exceeding great reward, and we should have directed them in the right way. Whoever obeyeth God and the apostle, they shall be with those unto whom God hath been gracious, of the prophets, and the sincere, and the martyrs, and the righteous; and these are the most excellent company. This is bounty from God; and God is sufficiently knowing. O true believers, take your necessary precaution against your enemies, and either go forth to war in separate parties, or go forth all together in a body. There is of you who tarrieth behind; and if a misfortune befall you, he saith, Verily God hath been gracious unto me, that I was not present with them: but if success attend you from God, he will say (as if there was no friendship between you and him), Would to God I had been with them, for I should have acquired great merit. Let them therefore fight for the religion of God, who part with the present life in exchange for that which is to come; for whosoever fighteth for the religion of God, whether he be slain, or be victorious, we will surely give him a great reward. And what ails you, that ye fight not for God's true religion, and in defence of the weak among men, women, and children, who say, O Lord, bring us forth from this city, whose inhabitants are wicked; grant us from before thee a protector, and grant us from thee a defender. They who believe fight for the religion of God; but they who believe not fight for the religion of Taghût. Fight therefore against the friends of Satan, for the stratagem of Satan is weak. Hast thou not observed those unto whom it was said, Withhold your hands from war, and be constant at prayers, and pay the legal alms? But when war is commanded them, behold, a part of them fear men as they should fear God, or with a greater fear, and say, O Lord, wherefore hast thou commanded us to go to war, and hast not suffered us to wait our approaching end? Say unto them, The provision of this life is but small; but the future shall be better for him who feareth God; and ye shall not be in the least injured at the day of judgment. Wheresoever ye be, death will overtake you, although ye be in lofty towers. If good befall them, they say, This is from God; but if evil befall them, they say, This is from thee, O Mohammed: say, All is from God; and what aileth these people, that they are so far from understanding what is said unto them? Whatever good befalleth thee, O man, it is from God; and whatever evil befalleth thee, it is from thyself.[73] We have sent thee an apostle unto men, and God is a sufficient witness thereof. Whoever obeyeth the apostle, obeyeth God; and whoever turneth back, we have not sent thee to be a keeper over them. They say, Obedience: yet when they go forth from thee, part of them meditate by night a matter different from what thou speakest; but God shall write down what they meditate by night: therefore let them alone, and trust in God, for God is a sufficient protector. Do they not attentively consider the Koran? If it had been from any besides God, they would certainly have found therein many contradictions. When any news cometh unto them, either of security or fear, they immediately divulge it; but if they told it to the apostle and to those who are in authority among them, such of them would understand the truth of the matter, as inform themselves thereof from the apostle and his chiefs. And if the favor of God and his mercy had not been upon you, ye had followed the devil, except a few of you. Fight therefore for the religion of God, and oblige not any to what is difficult, except thyself; however, excite the faithful to war, perhaps God will restrain the courage of the unbelievers; for God is stronger than they, and more able to punish. He who intercedeth between men with a good intercession shall have a portion thereof; and he who intercedeth with an evil intercession shall have a portion thereof; for God overlooketh all things. When ye are saluted with a salutation, salute the person with a better salutation, or at least return the same; for God taketh an account of all things. God! there is no God but he; he will surely gather you together on the day of resurrection; there is no doubt of it: and who is more true than God in what he saith? Why are ye divided concerning the ungodly into two parties; since God hath overturned them for what they have committed? Will ye direct him whom God hath led astray; since for him whom God shall lead astray, thou shalt find no true path? They desire that ye should become infidels, as they are infidels, and that ye should be equally wicked with themselves. Therefore take not friends from among them, until they fly their country for the religion of God; and if they turn back from the faith, take them, and kill them wherever ye find them; and take no friend from among them, nor any helper, except those who go unto a people who are in alliance with you, for those who come unto you, their hearts forbidding them either to fight against you, or to fight against their own people. And if God pleased he would have permitted them to have prevailed against you, and they would have fought against you. But if they depart from you, and fight not against you and offer you peace, God doth not allow you to take or kill them. Ye shall find others who are desirous to enter into a confidence with you, and at the same time to preserve a confidence with their own people: so often as they return to sedition, they shall be subverted therein; and if they depart not from you, and offer you peace, and restrain their hands from warring against you, take them and kill them wheresoever ye find them; over these have we granted you a manifest power. It is not lawful for a believer to kill a believer, unless it happen by mistake; and whoso killeth a believer by mistake, the penalty shall be the freeing of a believer from slavery, and a fine to be paid to the family of the deceased,[74] unless they remit it as alms: and if the slain person be of a people at enmity with you, and be a true believer, the penalty shall be the freeing of a believer; but if he be of a people in confederacy with you, a fine to be paid to his family, and the freeing of a believer. And he who findeth not wherewith to do this, shall fast two months consecutively, as a penance enjoined from God; and God is knowing and wise. But whoso killeth a believer designedly, his reward shall be hell; he shall remain therein forever; and God shall be angry with him, and shall curse him, and shall prepare for him a great punishment. O true believers, when ye are on a march in defence of the true religion, justly discern such as ye shall happen to meet, and say not unto him who saluteth you, Thou art not a true believer; seeking the accidental goods of the present life; for with God is much spoil. Such have ye formerly been, but God hath been gracious unto you; therefore make a just discernment, for God is well acquainted with that which ye do. Those believers who sit still at home, not having any hurt, and those who employ their fortunes and their persons for the religion of God, shall not be held equal. God hath preferred those who employ their fortunes and their persons in that cause, to a degree of honor above those who sit at home: God hath indeed promised everyone paradise, but God hath preferred those who fight for the faith before those who sit still, by adding unto them a great reward, by degrees of honor conferred on them from him, and by granting them forgiveness and mercy; for God is indulgent and merciful. Moreover, unto those whom the angels put to death, having injured their own souls,[75] the angels said, Of what religion were ye? they answered, We were weak in the earth. The angels replied, Was not God's earth wide enough, that ye might fly therein to a place of refuge? Therefore their habitation shall be hell; and an evil journey shall it be thither: except the weak among men, and women, and children, who were not able to find means, and were not directed in the way; these peradventure God will pardon, for God is ready to forgive and gracious. Whosoever flieth from his country for the sake of God's true religion, shall find in the earth many forced to do the same, and plenty of provisions. And whoever departeth from his house, and flieth unto God and his apostle, if death overtake him in the way, God will be obliged to reward him, for God is gracious and merciful. When ye march to war in the earth, it shall be no crime in you if ye shorten your prayers, in case ye fear the infidels may attack you; for the infidels are your open enemy. But when thou, O prophet, shalt be among them, and shalt pray with them, let a party of them arise to prayer with thee, and let them take their arms; and when they shall have worshipped, let them stand behind you, and let another party come that hath not prayed, and let them pray with thee, and let them be cautious and take their arms. The unbelievers would that ye should neglect your arms and your baggage while ye pray, that they might turn upon you at once. It shall be no crime in you, if ye be incommoded by rain, or be sick, that ye lay down your arms; but take your necessary precaution. God hath prepared for the unbelievers an ignominious punishment. And when ye shall have ended your prayer, remember God, standing, and sitting, and lying on your sides. But when ye are secure from danger, complete your prayers; for prayer is commanded the faithful, and appointed to be said at the stated times. Be not negligent in seeking out the unbelieving people, though ye suffer some inconvenience; for they also shall suffer, as ye suffer, and ye hope for a reward from God which they cannot hope for; and God is knowing and wise. We have sent down unto thee the book of the Koran with truth, that thou mayest judge between men through that wisdom which God showeth thee therein; and be not an advocate for the fraudulent; but ask pardon of God for thy wrong intention, since God is indulgent and merciful. Dispute not for those who deceive one another, for God loveth not him who is a deceiver or unjust. Such conceal themselves from men, but they conceal not themselves from God; for he is with them when they imagine by night a saying which pleaseth him not, and God comprehendeth what they do. Behold, ye are they who have disputed for them in this present life; but who shall dispute with God for them on the day of resurrection, or who will become their patron? yet he who doth evil, or injureth his own soul, and afterwards asketh pardon of God, shall find God gracious and merciful. Whoso committeth wickedness, committeth it against his own soul: God is knowing and wise. And whoso committeth a sin or iniquity, and afterwards layeth it on the innocent, he shall surely bear the guilt of calumny and manifest injustice. If the indulgence and mercy of God had not been upon thee, surely a part of them had studied to seduce thee; but they shall seduce themselves only, and shall not hurt thee at all. God hath sent down unto thee the book of the Koran and wisdom, and hath taught thee that which thou knewest not; for the favor of God hath been great towards thee. There is no good in the multitude of their private discourses, unless in the discourse of him who recommendeth alms, or that which is right, or agreement amongst men; whoever doth this out of a desire to please God we will surely give him a great reward. But whoso separateth himself from the apostle, after true direction hath been manifested unto him, and followeth any other way than that of the true believers, we will cause him to obtain that to which he is inclined, and will cast him to be burned in hell; and an unhappy journey shall it be thither. Verily God will not pardon the giving him a companion, but he will pardon any crime besides that, unto whom he pleaseth: and he who giveth a companion unto God, is surely led aside into a wide mistake: the infidels invoke beside him only female deities, and only invoke rebellious Satan. God cursed him; and he said, Verily I will take of thy servants a part cut off from the rest, and I will seduce them, and will insinuate vain desires into them, and I will command them, and they shall cut off the ears of cattle; and I will command them, and they shall change God's creature. But whoever taketh Satan for his patron, besides God, shall surely perish with a manifest destruction. He maketh them promises, and insinuateth into them vain desires; yet Satan maketh them only deceitful promises. The receptacle of these shall be hell, they shall find no refuge from it. But they who believe, and do good works, we will surely lead them into gardens, through which rivers flow; they shall continue therein forever, according to the true promise of God; and who is more true than God in what he saith? It shall not be according to your desires, nor according to the desires of those who have received the scriptures. Whoso doeth evil, shall be rewarded for it; and shall not find any patron or helper, beside God; but whoso doeth good works, whether he be male or female, and is a true believer, they shall be admitted into paradise, and shall not in the least be unjustly dealt with. Who is better in point of religion than he who resigneth himself unto God, and is a worker of righteousness, and followeth the law of Abraham the orthodox? since God took Abraham for his friend: and to God belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth; God comprehendeth all things. They will consult thee concerning women; Answer, God instructeth you concerning them, and that which is read unto you in the book of the Koran concerning female orphans, to whom ye give not that which is ordained them, neither will ye marry them, and concerning weak infants, and that ye observe justice towards orphans: whatever good ye do, God knoweth it. If a woman fear ill usage, or aversion, from her husband, it shall be no crime in them if they agree the matter amicably between themselves; for a reconciliation is better than a separation. Men's souls are naturally inclined to covetousness: but if ye be kind towards women, and fear to wrong them, God is well acquainted with what ye do. Ye can by no means carry yourselves equally between women in all respects, although ye study to do it; therefore turn not from a wife with all manner of aversion, nor leave her like one in suspense: if ye agree, and fear to abuse your wives, God is gracious and merciful; but if they separate, God will satisfy them both of his abundance; for God is extensive and wise, and unto God belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth. We have already commanded those unto whom the scriptures were given before you, and we command you also, saying, Fear God; but if ye disbelieve, unto God belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth; and God is self-sufficient, and to be praised; for unto God belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth, and God is a sufficient protector. If he pleaseth he will take you away, O men, and will produce others in your stead; for God is able to do this. Whoso desireth the reward of this world, verily with God is the reward of this world, and also of that which is to come; God both heareth and seeth. O true believers, observe justice when ye bear witness before God, although it be against yourselves, or your parents, or relations; whether the party be rich, or whether he be poor; for God is more worthy than them both: therefore follow not your own lust in bearing testimony, so that ye swerve from justice. And whether ye wrest your evidence, or decline giving it, God is well acquainted with that which ye do. O true believers, believe in God and his apostle, and the book which he hath caused to descend unto his apostle, and the book which he hath formerly sent down. And whosoever believeth not in God, and his angels, and his scriptures, and his apostles, and the last day, he surely erreth in a wide mistake. Moreover, they who believed, and afterwards became infidels, and then believed again, and after that disbelieved, and increased in infidelity, God will by no means forgive them, nor direct them into the right way. Declare unto the ungodly that they shall suffer a painful punishment. They who take the unbelievers for their protectors, besides the faithful, do they seek for power with them? since all power belongeth unto God. And he hath already revealed unto you, in the book of the Koran, the following passage: When ye shall hear the signs of God, they shall not be believed, but they shall be laughed to scorn. Therefore sit not with them who believe not, until they engage in different discourse; for if ye do, ye will certainly become like unto them. God will surely gather the ungodly and the unbelievers together in hell. They who wait to observe what befalleth you, if victory be granted you from God, say, Were we not with you? But if any advantage happen to the infidels, they say unto them, Were we not superior to you, and have we not defended you against the believers? God shall judge between you on the day of resurrection; and God will not grant the unbelievers means to prevail over the faithful. The hypocrites act deceitfully with God, but he will deceive them; and when they stand up to pray, they stand carelessly, affecting to be seen of men, and remember not God, unless a little, wavering between faith and infidelity, and adhering neither unto these nor unto those: and for him whom God shall lead astray, thou shalt find no true path. O true believers, take not the unbelievers for your protectors, besides the faithful. Will ye furnish God with an evident argument of impiety against you? Moreover, the hypocrites shall be in the lowest bottom of hell fire, and thou shalt not find any to help them thence. But they who repent and amend, and adhere firmly unto God, and approve the sincerity of their religion to God, they shall be numbered with the faithful; and God will surely give the faithful a great reward. And how should God go about to punish you, if ye be thankful and believe? for God is grateful and wise. God loveth not the speaking ill of anyone in public, unless he who is injured call for assistance; and God heareth and knoweth: whether ye publish a good action, or conceal it, or forgive evil, verily God is gracious and powerful. They who believe not in God and his apostles, and would make a distinction between God and his apostles, and say, We believe in some of the prophets, and reject others of them, and seek to take a middle way in this matter; these are really unbelievers, and we have prepared for the unbelievers an ignominious punishment. But they who believe in God and his apostles, and make no distinction between any of them, unto those will we surely give their reward; and God is gracious and merciful. They who have received the scriptures will demand of thee, that thou cause a book to descend unto them from heaven: they formerly asked of Moses a greater thing than this; for they said, Show us God visibly. Wherefore a storm of fire from heaven destroyed them, because of their iniquity. Then they took the calf for their God: after that evident proofs of the divine unity had come unto them; but we forgave them that, and gave Moses a manifest power to punish them. And we lifted the mountain of Sinai over them, when we exacted from them their covenant; and said unto them, Enter the gate of the city worshipping. We also said unto them, Transgress not on the Sabbath day. And we received from them a firm covenant, that they would observe these things. Therefore for that[76] they have made void their covenant, and have not believed in the signs of God, and have slain the prophets unjustly, and have said, Our hearts are uncircumcised (but God hath sealed them up, because of their unbelief; therefore they shall not believe, except a few of them): and for that they have not believed on Jesus, and have spoken against Mary a grievous calumny; and have said, Verily we have slain Christ Jesus the son of Mary, the apostle of God; yet they slew him not, neither crucified him, but he was represented by one in his likeness; and verily they who disagreed concerning him,[77] were in a doubt as to this matter, and had no sure knowledge thereof, but followed only an uncertain opinion. They did not really kill him; but God took him up unto himself: and God is mighty and wise. And there shall not be one of those who have received the scriptures, who shall not believe in him, before his death;[78] and on the day of resurrection he shall be a witness against them. Because of the iniquity of those who Judaize, we have forbidden them good things, which had been formerly allowed them; and because they shut out many from the way of God, and have taken usury, which was forbidden them by the law, and devoured men's substance vainly: we have prepared for such of them as are unbelievers a painful punishment. But those among them who are well grounded in knowledge, and the faithful, who believe in that which hath been sent down unto thee, and that which hath been sent down unto the prophets before thee, and who observe the stated times of prayer, and give alms, and believe in God and the last day; unto these will we give a great reward. Verily we have revealed our will unto thee, as we have revealed it unto Noah and the prophets who succeeded him; and as we revealed it unto Abraham, and Ismael, and Isaac, and Jacob, and the tribes, and unto Jesus, and Job, and Jonas, and Aaron, and Solomon; and we have given thee the Koran, as we gave the Psalms unto David: some apostles have we sent, whom we have formerly mentioned unto thee; and other apostles have we sent, whom we have not mentioned unto thee; and God spake unto Moses, discoursing with him; apostles declaring good tidings, and denouncing threats, lest men should have an argument of excuse against God, after the apostles had been sent unto them; God is mighty and wise. God is witness of that revelation which he hath sent down unto thee; he sent it down with his special knowledge: the angels also are witnesses thereof; but God is a sufficient witness. They who believe not, and turn aside others from the way of God, have erred in a wide mistake. Verily those who believe not, and act unjustly, God will by no means forgive, neither will he direct them into any other way than the way of hell; they shall remain therein forever: and this is easy with God. O men, now is the apostle come unto you, with truth from your Lord; believe therefore, it will be better for you. But if ye disbelieve, verily unto God belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth; and God is knowing and wise. O ye who have received the scriptures, exceed not the just bounds in your religion, neither say of God any other than the truth. Verily Christ Jesus the son of Mary is the apostle of God, and his Word, which he conveyed into Mary, and a spirit proceeding from him. Believe, therefore, in God, and his apostles, and say not, There are three Gods;[79] forbear this; it will be better for you. God is but one God. Far be it from him that he should have a son! unto him belongeth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth; and God is a sufficient protector. Christ doth not proudly disdain to be a servant unto God; neither the angels who approach near to his presence: and whoso disdaineth his service, and is puffed up with pride, God will gather them all to himself, on the last day. Unto those who believe, and do that which is right, he shall give their rewards, and shall superabundantly add unto them of his liberality: but those who are disdainful and proud, he will punish with a grievous punishment; and they shall not find any to protect or to help them, besides God. O men, now is an evident proof come unto you from your Lord, and we have sent down unto you manifest light. They who believe in God and firmly adhere to him, he will lead them into mercy from him, and abundance; and he will direct them in the right way to himself. They will consult thee for thy decision in certain cases; say unto them, God giveth you these determinations, concerning the more remote degrees of kindred. If a man die without issue, and have a sister, she shall have the half of what he shall leave:[80] and he shall be heir to her,[81] in case she have no issue. But if there be two sisters, they shall have between them two third-parts of what he shall leave; and if there be several, both brothers and sisters, a male shall have as much as the portion of two females. God declareth unto you these precepts, lest ye err: and God knoweth all things. [Footnote 63: This title was given to this chapter because it chiefly treats of matters relating to women: as marriages, divorces, dower, prohibited degrees.] [Footnote 64: By legacies in this and the following passages, are chiefly meant those bequeathed to pious uses; for the Mohammedans approve not of a person's giving away his substance from his family and near relations on any other account.] [Footnote 65: Their punishment, in the beginning of Mohammedanism, was to be immured till they died, but afterwards this cruel doom was mitigated, and they might avoid it by undergoing the punishment ordained in its stead by the Sonna, according to which the maidens are to be scourged with a hundred stripes, and to be banished for a full year; and the married women to be stoned.] [Footnote 66: According to this passage it is not lawful to marry a free woman that is already married, be she a Mohammedan or not, unless she be legally parted from her husband by divorce; but it is lawful to marry those who are slaves, or taken in war, after they shall have gone through the proper purifications, though their husbands be living. Yet, according to the decision of Abu Hanifah, it is not lawful to marry such whose husbands shall be taken, or in actual slavery with them.] [Footnote 67: The reason of this is because they are not presumed to have had so good education. A slave, therefore, in such a case, is to have fifty stripes, and to be banished for half a year; but she shall not be stoned, because it is a punishment which cannot be inflicted by halves.] [Footnote 68: These sins al Beidâwi, from a tradition of Mohammed, reckons to be seven (equalling in number the sins called deadly by Christians), that is to say, idolatry, murder, falsely accusing modest women of adultery, wasting the substance of orphans, taking of usury, desertion in a religious expedition, and disobedience to parents.] [Footnote 69: Such as honor, power, riches, and other worldly advantages.] [Footnote 70: By this passage the Mohammedans are in plain terms allowed to beat their wives, in case of stubborn disobedience; but not in a violent or dangerous manner.] [Footnote 71: The Arabic is, in Tibt and Taghût. The former is supposed to have been the proper name of some idol; but it seems rather to signify any false deity in general. The latter we have explained already.] [Footnote 72: That is, to the decision of the Koran.] [Footnote 73: These words are not to be understood as contradictory to the preceding, "That all proceeds from God," since the evil which befalls mankind, though ordered by God, is yet the consequence of their own wicked actions.] [Footnote 74: Which fine is to be distributed according to the laws of inheritance given in the beginning of this chapter.] [Footnote 75: These were certain inhabitants of Mecca, who held with the hare and ran with the hounds, for though they embraced Mohammedanism, yet they would not leave that city to join the prophet, as the rest of the Moslems did, but on the contrary went out with the idolaters, and were therefore slain with them at the battle of Bedr.] [Footnote 76: There being nothing in the following words of this sentence, to answer to the causal "for that," Jallalo'ddin supposes something to be understood to complete the sense, as "therefore we have cursed them," or the like.] [Footnote 77: For some maintained that he was justly and really crucified; some insisted that it was not Jesus who suffered, but another who resembled him in the face, pretending the other parts of his body, and by their unlikeness plainly discovered the imposition; some said he was taken up into heaven; and others, that his manhood only suffered, and that his godhead ascended into heaven.] [Footnote 78: This passage is expounded two ways. Some, referring the relative his to the first antecedent, take the meaning to be that no Jew or Christian shall die before he believes in Jesus: for they say, that when one of either of those religions is ready to breathe his last, and sees the angel of death before him, he shall then believe in that prophet as he ought, though his faith will not then be of any avail. According to a tradition of Hejâj, when a Jew is expiring, the angels will strike him on the back and face, and say to him, "O thou enemy of God, Jesus was sent as a prophet unto thee, and thou didst not believe on him;" to which he will answer, "I now believe him to be the servant of God"; and to a dying Christian they will say, "Jesus was sent as a prophet unto thee, and thou hast imagined him to be God, or the son of God," whereupon he will believe him to be the servant of God only, and his apostle. Others, taking the above-mentioned relative to refer to Jesus, suppose the intent of the passage to be, that all Jews and Christians in general shall have a right faith in that prophet before his death, that is, when he descends from heaven and returns into the world, where he is to kill Antichrist, and to establish the Mohammedan religion, and a most perfect tranquillity and security on earth.] [Footnote 79: Namely, God, Jesus, and Mary--as the eastern writers mention a sect of Christians which held the Trinity to be composed of those three; but it is allowed that this heresy has been long since extinct. The passage, however, is equally levelled against the Holy Trinity, according to the doctrine of the orthodox Christians, who, as al Beid[=a]wi acknowledges, believe the divine nature to consist of three persons, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost; by the Father understanding God's essence, by the Son his knowledge, and by the Holy Ghost his life.] [Footnote 80: And the other half will go to the public treasury.] [Footnote 81: That is, he shall inherit her whole substance.] CHAPTER V Entitled, the Table[82]--Revealed at Medina _In the Name of the Most Merciful God._ O True believers, perform your contracts. Ye are allowed to eat the brute cattle,[83] other than what ye are commanded to abstain from; except the game which ye are allowed at other times, but not while ye are on pilgrimage to Mecca; God ordaineth that which he pleaseth. O true believers, violate not the holy rites of God, nor the sacred month,[84] nor the offering, nor the ornaments hung thereon, nor those who are travelling to the holy house, seeking favor from their Lord, and to please him. But when ye shall have finished your pilgrimage, then hunt. And let not the malice of some, in that they hindered you from entering the sacred temple, provoke you to transgress, by taking revenge on them in the sacred months. Assist one another according to justice and piety, but assist not one another in injustice and malice: therefore fear God; for God is severe in punishing. Ye are forbidden to eat that which dieth of itself, and blood, and swine's flesh, and that on which the name of any besides God hath been invocated, and that which hath been strangled, or killed by a blow, or by a fall, or by the horns of another beast, and that which hath been eaten by a wild beast, except what ye shall kill yourselves; and that which hath been sacrificed unto idols. It is likewise unlawful for you to make division by casting lots with arrows.[85] This is an impiety. On this day, woe be unto those who have apostatized from their religion; therefore fear not them, but fear me. This day have I perfected your religion for you, and have completed my mercy upon you; and I have chosen for you Islam, to be your religion. But whosoever shall be driven by necessity through hunger to eat of what we have forbidden, not designing to sin, surely God will be indulgent and merciful unto him. They will ask thee what is allowed them as lawful to eat? Answer, Such things as are good are allowed you; and what ye shall teach animals of prey to catch, training them up for hunting after the manner of dogs, and teaching them according to the skill which God hath taught you. Eat therefore of that which they shall catch for you; and commemorate the name of God thereon; and fear God, for God is swift in taking an account. This day are ye allowed to eat such things as are good, and the food of those to whom the scriptures were given is also allowed as lawful unto you; and your food is allowed as lawful unto them. And ye are also allowed to marry free women that are believers, and also free women of those who have received the scriptures before you, when ye shall have assigned them their dower; living chastely with them, neither committing fornication, nor taking them for concubines. Whoever shall renounce the faith, his work shall be vain, and in the next life he shall be of those who perish. O true believers, when ye prepare yourselves to pray, wash your faces, and your hands unto the elbows; and rub your heads, and your feet unto the ankles; and if ye be polluted and ye find no water, take fine clean sand, and rub your faces and your hands therewith; God will not put a difficulty upon you; but he desireth to purify you, and to complete his favor upon you, that ye may give thanks. Remember the favor of God towards you, and his covenant which he hath made with you, when ye said, We have heard, and will obey. Therefore fear God, for God knoweth the innermost parts of the breasts of men, O true believers, observe justice when ye appear as witnesses before God, and let not hatred towards any induce you to do wrong: but act justly; this will approach nearer unto piety; and fear God, for God is fully acquainted with what ye do. God hath promised unto those who believe, and do that which is right, that they shall receive pardon and a great reward. But they who believe not, and accuse our signs of falsehood, they shall be the companions of hell. O true believers, remember God's favor towards you, when certain men designed to stretch forth their hands against you, but he restrained their hands from hurting you; therefore fear God, and in God let the faithful trust. God formerly accepted the covenant of the children of Israel, and we appointed out of them twelve leaders: and God said, Verily, I am with you: if ye observe prayer, and give alms, and believe in my apostles, and assist them, and lend unto God on good usury, I will surely expiate your evil deeds from you, and I will lead you into gardens, wherein rivers flow: but he among you who disbelieveth after this, erreth from the straight path. Wherefore because they have broken their covenant, we have cursed them, and hardened their hearts; they dislocate the words of the Pentateuch from their places, and have forgotten part of what they were admonished; and thou wilt not cease to discover deceitful practices among them, except a few of them. But forgive them and pardon them, for God loveth the beneficent. And from those who say, We are Christians, we have received their covenant; but they have forgotten part of what they were admonished; wherefore we have raised up enmity and hatred among them, till the day of resurrection; and God will then surely declare unto them what they have been doing. O ye who have received the scriptures, now is our apostle come unto you, to make manifest unto you many things which ye concealed in the scriptures; and to pass over many things. Now is light and a perspicuous book of revelations come unto you from God. Thereby will God direct him who shall follow his good pleasure, into the paths of peace; and shall lead them out of darkness into light, by his will, and shall direct them in the right way. They are infidels, who say, Verily God is Christ the son of Mary. Say unto them, And who could obtain anything from God to the contrary, if he pleased to destroy Christ the son of Mary, and his mother, and all those who are on the earth? For unto God belongeth the kingdom of heaven and earth, and whatsoever is contained between them; he createth what he pleaseth, and God is almighty. The Jews and the Christians say, We are the children of God, and his beloved. Answer, Why therefore doth he punish you for your sins? Nay, but ye are men, of those whom he hath created. He forgiveth whom he pleaseth, and punisheth whom he pleaseth; and unto God belongeth the kingdom of heaven and earth, and of what is contained between them both; and unto him shall all things return. O ye who have received the scriptures, now is our apostle come unto you, declaring unto you the true religion, during the cessation of apostles[86], lest ye should say, There came unto us no bearer of good tidings, nor any warner: but now is a bearer of good tidings and a warner come unto you; and God is almighty. Call to mind when Moses said unto his people, O my people, remember the favor of God towards you, since he hath appointed prophets among you, and constituted you kings, and bestowed on you what he hath given to no other nation in the world. O my people, enter the holy land, which God hath decreed you, and turn not your backs, lest ye be subverted and perish. They answered, O Moses, verily there are a gigantic people in the land; and we will by no means enter it, until they depart thence; but if they depart thence, then will we enter therein. And two men of those who feared God, unto whom God had been gracious, said, Enter ye upon them suddenly by the gate of the city; and when ye shall have entered the same, ye shall surely be victorious: therefore trust in God, if ye are true believers. They replied, O Moses, we will never enter the land, while they remain therein: go therefore thou, and thy Lord, and fight; for we will sit here. Moses said, O Lord, surely I am not master of any except myself, and my brother; therefore make a distinction between us and the ungodly people. God answered, Verily the land shall be forbidden them forty years; during which time they shall wander like men astonished in the earth; therefore be not thou solicitous for the ungodly people. Relate also unto them the history of the two sons of Adam, with truth. When they offered their offering, and it was accepted from one of them, and was not accepted from the other, Cain said to his brother, I will certainly kill thee. Abel answered, God only accepteth the offering of the pious; if thou stretchest forth thy hand against me, to slay me, I will not stretch forth my hand against thee, to slay thee; for I fear God the Lord of all creatures. I choose that thou shouldst bear my iniquity and thine own iniquity; and that thou become a companion of hell fire; for that is the reward of the unjust. But his soul suffered him to slay his brother, and he slew him; wherefore he became of the number of those who perish. And God sent a raven, which scratched the earth, to show him how he should hide the shame of his brother, and he said, Woe is me! am I unable to be like this raven, that I may hide my brother's shame? and he became one of those who repent. Wherefore we commanded the children of Israel, that he who slayeth a soul, without having slain a body, or committed wickedness in the earth, shall be as if he had slain all mankind: but he who saveth a soul alive, shall be as if he had saved the lives of all mankind. Our apostles formerly came unto them, with evident miracles; then were many of them, after this, transgressors on the earth. But the recompense of those who fight against God and his apostles, and study to act corruptly in the earth, shall be, that they shall be slain, or crucified, or have their hands and their feet cut off on the opposite sides, or be banished the land. This shall be their disgrace in this world, and in the next world they shall suffer a grievous punishment; except those who shall repent, before ye prevail against them; for know that God is inclined to forgive, and be merciful. O true believers, fear God, and earnestly desire a near conjunction with him, and fight for his religion, that ye may be happy. Moreover, they who believe not, although they had whatever is in the earth, and as much more withal, that they might therewith redeem themselves from punishment on the day of resurrection: it shall not be accepted from them, but they shall suffer a painful punishment. They shall desire to go forth from the fire, but they shall not go forth from it, and their punishment shall be permanent. If a man or a woman steal, cut off their hands,[87] in retribution for that which they have committed; this is an exemplary punishment appointed by God; and God is mighty and wise. But whoever shall repent after his iniquity, and amend, verily God will be turned unto him, for God is inclined to forgive and be merciful. Dost thou not know that the kingdom of heaven and earth is God's? He punisheth whom he pleaseth, and he pardoneth whom he pleaseth; for God is almighty. O apostle, let them not grieve thee, who hasten to infidelity, either of those who say, We believe, with their mouths, but whose hearts believe not; or of the Jews, who hearken to a lie, and hearken to other people; who come not unto thee: they pervert the words of the law from their true places, and say, If this be brought unto you, receive it; but if it be not brought unto you, beware of receiving aught else; and in behalf of him whom God shall resolve to reduce, thou shalt not prevail with God at all. They whose hearts God shall not please to cleanse, shall suffer shame in this world, and a grievous punishment in the next: who hearken to a lie, and eat that which is forbidden. But if they come unto thee for judgment, either judge between them, or leave them; and if thou leave them, they shall not hurt thee at all. But if thou undertake to judge, judge between them with equity; for God loveth those who observe justice. And how will they submit to thy decision, since they have the law, containing the judgment of God? Then will they turn their backs, after this; but those are not true believers. We have surely sent down the law, containing direction, and light: thereby did the prophets, who professed the true religion, judge those who Judaized; and the doctors and priests also judged by the book of God, which had been committed to their custody; and they were witnesses thereof. Therefore fear not men, but fear me; neither sell my signs for a small price. And whoso judgeth not according to what God hath revealed, they are infidels. We have therein commanded them, that they should give life for life, and eye for eye, and nose for nose, and ear for ear, and tooth for tooth; and that wounds should also be punished by retaliation: but whoever should remit it as alms, it should be accepted as an atonement for him. And whoso judgeth not according to what God hath revealed, they are unjust. We also caused Jesus, the son of Mary, to follow the footsteps of the prophets, confirming the law which was sent down before him; and we gave him the gospel, containing direction and light; confirming also the law which was given before it, and a direction and admonition unto those who fear God: that they who have received the gospel might judge according to what God hath revealed therein: and whoso judgeth not according to what God hath revealed, they are transgressors. We have also sent down unto thee the book of the Koran with truth, confirming that scripture which was revealed before it; and preserving the same safe from corruption. Judge, therefore, between them according to that which God hath revealed; and follow not their desires, by swerving from the truth which hath come unto thee. Unto every one of you have we given a law, and an open path; and if God had pleased, he had surely made you one people; but he hath thought fit to give you different laws, that he might try you in that which he hath given you respectively. Therefore strive to excel each other in good works: unto God shall ye all return, and then will he declare unto you that concerning which ye have disagreed. Wherefore do thou, O prophet, judge between them according to that which God hath revealed, and follow not their desires; but beware of them, lest they cause thee to err from part of those precepts which God hath sent down unto thee; and if they turn back, know that God is pleased to punish them for some of their crimes; for a great number of men are transgressors. Do they therefore desire the judgment of the time of ignorance? but who is better than God, to judge between people who reason aright? O true believers, take not the Jews or Christians for your friends; they are friends the one to the other; but whoso among you taketh them for his friends, he is surely one of them: verily God directeth not unjust people. Thou shalt see those in whose hearts there is an infirmity, to hasten unto them, saying, We fear lest some adversity befall us; but it is easy for God to give victory, or a command from him, that they may repent of that which they concealed in their minds. And they who believe will say, Are these the men who have sworn by God, with a most firm oath, that they surely held with you? their works are become vain, and they are of those who perish. O true believers, whoever of you apostatizeth from his religion, God will certainly bring other people to supply his place, whom he will love, and who will love him; who shall be humble towards the believers, but severe to the unbelievers; they shall fight for the religion of God, and shall not fear the obloquy of the detractor. This is the bounty of God, he bestoweth it on whom he pleaseth: God is extensive and wise. Verily your protector is God, and his apostle, and those who believe, who observe the stated times of prayer, and give alms, and who bow down to worship. And whoso taketh God, and his apostle, and the believers for his friends, they are the party of God, and they shall be victorious. O true believers, take not such of those to whom the scriptures were delivered before you, or of the infidels, for your friends, who make a laughing-stock and a jest of your religion; but fear God, if ye be true believers; nor those who, when ye call to prayer, make a laughing-stock and a jest of it; this they do because they are people who do not understand. Say, O ye who have received the scriptures, do ye reject us for any other reason than because we believe in God, and that revelation which hath been sent down unto us, and that which was formerly sent down, and for that the greater part of you are transgressors? Say, Shall I denounce unto you a worse thing than this, as to the reward which ye are to expect with God? He whom God hath cursed, and with whom he hath been angry, having changed some of them into apes and swine, and who worship Taghût, they are in the worse condition, and err more widely from the straightness of the path. When they came unto you, they said, We believe: yet they entered into your company with infidelity, and went forth from you with the same; but God well knew what they concealed. Thou shalt see many of them hastening unto iniquity and malice, and to eat things forbidden; and woe unto them for what they have done. Unless their doctors and priests forbid them uttering wickedness, and eating things forbidden; woe unto them for what they shall have committed. The Jews say, the hand of God is tied up. Their hands shall be tied up, and they shall be cursed for that which they have said. Nay, his hands are both stretched forth; he bestoweth as he pleaseth: that which had been sent down unto thee from thy Lord, shall increase the transgression and infidelity of many of them; and we have put enmity and hatred between them, until the day of resurrection. So often as they shall kindle a fire for war, God shall extinguish it; and they shall set their minds to act corruptly in the earth, but God loveth not the corrupt doers. Moreover, if they who have received the scriptures believe, and fear God, we will surely expiate their sins from them, and we will lead them into gardens of pleasure; and if they observe the law, and the gospel, and the other scriptures which have been sent down unto them from their Lord, they shall surely eat of good things both from above them and from under their feet. Among them there are people who act uprightly; but how evil is that which many of them do work! O apostle, publish the whole of that which hath been sent down unto thee from thy Lord: for if thou do not, thou dost not in effect publish any part thereof; and God will defend thee against wicked men; for God directeth not the unbelieving people. Say, O ye who have received the scriptures, ye are not grounded on anything, until ye observe the law and the gospel, and that which hath been sent down unto you from your Lord. That which hath been sent down unto thee from thy Lord shall surely increase the transgression and infidelity of many of them: but be not thou solicitous for the unbelieving people. Verily they who believe, and those who Judaize,--and the Sabeans, and the Christians, whoever of them believeth in God and the last day, and doth that which is right, there shall come no fear on them, neither shall they be grieved. We formerly accepted the covenant of the children of Israel, and sent apostles unto them. So often as an apostle came unto them with that which their souls desired not, they accused some of them of imposture, and some of them they killed: and they imagined that there should be no punishment for those crimes, and they became blind and deaf. Then was God turned unto them; afterwards many of them again became blind and deaf; but God saw what they did. They are surely infidels, who say, Verily God is Christ the son of Mary; since Christ said, O children of Israel, serve God, my Lord and your Lord; whoever shall give a companion unto God, God shall exclude him from paradise, and his habitation shall be hell fire; and the ungodly shall have none to help them. They are certainly infidels, who say, God is the third of three: for there is no God besides one God; and if they refrain not from what they say, a painful torment shall surely be inflicted on such of them as are unbelievers. Will they not therefore be turned unto God, and ask pardon of him? since God is gracious and merciful. Christ, the son of Mary, is no more than an apostle; other apostles have preceded him; and his mother was a woman of veracity: they both ate food. Behold, how we declare unto them the signs of God's unity; and then behold, how they turn aside from the truth. Say unto them, Will ye worship, besides God, that which can cause you neither harm nor profit? God is he who heareth and seeth. Say, O ye who have received the scriptures, exceed not the just bounds in your religion, by speaking beside the truth; neither follow the desires of people who have heretofore erred, and who have seduced many, and have gone astray from the straight path. Those among the children of Israel who believed not, were cursed by the tongue of David, and of Jesus the son of Mary. This befell them because they were rebellious and transgressed: they forbade not one another the wickedness which they committed; and woe unto them for what they committed. Thou shalt see many of them take for their friends those who believe not. Woe unto them for what their souls have sent before them, for that God is incensed against them, and they shall remain in torment forever. But, if they had believed in God, and the prophet, and that which hath been revealed unto him, they had not taken them for their friends; but many of them are evil-doers. Thou shalt surely find the most violent of all men in enmity against the true believers, to be the Jews and the idolaters: and thou shalt surely find those among them to be the most inclinable to entertain friendship for the true believers, who say, We are Christians. This cometh to pass, because there are priests and monks among them; and because they are not elated with pride. And when they hear that which hath been sent down to the apostle read unto them, thou shalt see their eyes overflow with tears, because of the truth which they perceive therein, saying, O Lord, we believe; write us down, therefore, with those who bear witness to the truth: and what should hinder us from believing in God, and the truth which hath come unto us, and from earnestly desiring that our Lord would introduce us into paradise with the righteous people. Therefore hath God rewarded them, for what they have said, with gardens through which rivers flow; they shall continue therein forever; and this is the reward of the righteous. But they who believe not, and accuse our signs of falsehood, they shall be the companions of hell. O true believers, forbid not the good things which God hath allowed you; but transgress not, for God loveth not the transgressors. And eat of what God hath given you for food that which is lawful and good: and fear God, in whom ye believe. God will not punish you for an inconsiderate word in your oaths; but he will punish you for what ye solemnly swear with deliberation. And the expiation of such an oath shall be the feeding of ten poor men with such moderate food as ye feed your own families withal; or to clothe them; or to free the neck of a true believer from captivity: but he who shall not find wherewith to perform one of these three things, shall fast three days. This is the expiation of your oaths, when ye swear inadvertently. Therefore keep your oaths. Thus God declareth unto you his signs, that ye may give thanks. O true believers, surely wine, and lots, and images, and divining arrows, are an abomination of the work of Satan; therefore avoid them, that ye may prosper. Satan seeketh to sow dissension and hatred among you, by means of wine and lots, and to divert you from remembering God, and from prayer; will ye not therefore abstain from them? Obey God, and obey the apostle, and take heed to yourselves: but if ye turn back, know that the duty of our apostle is only to preach publicly. In those who believe and do good works, it is no sin that they have tasted wine or gaming before they were forbidden; if they fear God, and believe, and do good works, and shall for the future fear God, and believe, and shall persevere to fear him, and to do good; for God loveth those who do good. O true believers, God will surely prove you in offering you plenty of game, which ye may take with your hands or your lances, that God may know who feareth him in secret; but whoever transgresseth after this, shall suffer a grievous punishment. O true believers, kill no game while ye are on pilgrimages; whosoever among you shall kill any designedly, shall restore the like of what ye shall have killed, in domestic animals, according to the determination of two just persons among you, to be brought as an offering to the Caabah; or in atonement thereof shall feed the poor; or instead thereof shall fast, that he may taste the heinousness of his deed. God hath forgiven what is past, but whoever returneth to transgress, God will take vengeance on him; for God is mighty and able to avenge. It is lawful for you to fish in the sea,[88] and to eat what ye shall catch, as a provision for you and for those who travel; but it is unlawful for you to hunt by land, while ye are performing the rites of pilgrimage; therefore fear God, before whom ye shall be assembled at the last day. God hath appointed the Caabah, the holy house, an establishment for mankind; and hath ordained the sacred month, and the offering, and the ornaments hung thereon. This hath he done that ye might know that God knoweth whatsoever is in heaven and on earth, and that God is omniscient. Know that God is severe in punishing, and that God is ready to forgive and be merciful. The duty of our apostle is to preach only; and God knoweth that which ye discover, and that which ye conceal. Say, Evil and Good shall not be equally esteemed of, though the abundance of evil pleaseth thee; therefore fear God, O ye of understanding, that ye may be happy. O true believers, inquire not concerning things which, if they be declared unto you, may give you pain; but if ye ask concerning them when the Koran is sent down, they will be declared unto you: God pardoneth you as to these matters; for God is ready to forgive and gracious. People who have been before you formerly inquired concerning them; and afterwards disbelieved therein. God hath not ordained anything concerning Bahîra, nor Sâïba, nor Wasîla, nor Hâmi;[89] but the unbelievers have invented a lie against God: and the greater part of them do not understand. And when it was said unto them, Come unto that which God hath revealed, and to the apostles; they answered, That religion which we found our fathers to follow is sufficient for us. What though their fathers knew nothing, and were not rightly directed? O true believers, take care of your souls. He who erreth shall not hurt you, while ye are rightly directed: unto God shall ye all return, and he will tell you that which ye have done. O true believers, let witnesses be taken between you, when death approaches any of you, at the time of making the testament; let there be two witnesses, just men, from among you; or two others of a different tribe or faith from yourselves, if ye be journeying in the earth, and the accident of death befall you. Ye shall shut them both up, after the afternoon prayer, and they shall swear by God, if ye doubt them, and they shall say, We will not sell our evidence for a bribe, although the person concerned be one who is related to us, neither will we conceal the testimony of God, for then should we certainly be of the number of the wicked. But if it appear that both have been guilty of iniquity, two others shall stand up in their place, of those who have convicted them of falsehood, the two nearest in blood, and they shall swear by God, saying, Verily our testimony is more true than the testimony of these two, neither have we prevaricated; for then should we become of the number of the unjust. This will be easier, that men may give testimony according to the plain intention thereof, or fear lest a different oath be given, after their oath. Therefore fear God, and hearken; for God directeth not the unjust people. On a certain day shall God assemble the apostles, and shall say unto them, What answer was returned you, when ye preached unto the people to whom ye were sent? They shall answer, We have no knowledge but thou art the knower of secrets. When God shall say, O Jesus, son of Mary, remember my favor towards thee, and towards thy mother; when I strengthened thee with the holy spirit, that thou shouldst speak unto men in the cradle, and when thou wast grown up; and when I taught thee the scripture, and wisdom, and the law and the gospel; and when thou didst create of clay as it were the figure of a bird, by my permission, and didst breathe thereon, and it became a bird by my permission; and thou didst heal one blind from his birth and the leper, by my permission; and when thou didst bring forth the dead from their graves, by my permission; and when I withheld the children of Israel from killing thee, when thou hadst come unto them with evident miracles, and such of them as believed not, said, This is nothing but manifest sorcery. And when I commanded the apostles of Jesus, saying, Believe in me and in my messenger; they answered, We do believe; and do thou bear witness that we are resigned unto thee. Remember when the apostles said, O Jesus, son of Mary, is thy Lord able to cause a table to descend unto us from heaven?[90] He answered, hear God, if ye be true believers. They said, We desire to eat thereof, and that our hearts may rest at ease, and that we may know that thou hast told us the truth, and that we may be witnesses thereof. Jesus, the son of Mary, said, O God our Lord, cause a table to descend unto us from heaven, that the day of its descent may become a festival day unto us, unto the first of us, and unto the last of us, and a sign from thee; and do thou provide food for us, for thou art the best provider. God said, Verily I will cause it to descend unto you; but whoever among you shall disbelieve hereafter, I will surely punish him with a punishment wherewith I will not punish any other creature. And when God shall say unto Jesus, at the last day, O Jesus, son of Mary, hast thou said unto men, Take me and my mother for two gods, beside God? He shall answer, Praise be unto thee! it is not for me to say that which I ought not; if I had said so, thou wouldst surely have known it: thou knowest what is in me, but I know not what is in thee; for thou art the knower of secrets. I have not spoken to them any other than what thou didst command me; namely, Worship God, my Lord and your Lord: and I was a witness of their actions while I stayed among them; but since thou hast taken me to thyself, thou hast been the watcher over them; for thou art witness of all things. If thou punish them, they are surely thy servants; and if thou forgive them, thou art mighty and wise. God will say, This day shall their veracity be of advantage unto those who speak truth; they shall have gardens wherein rivers flow, they shall remain therein forever: God hath been well pleased in them, and they have been well pleased in him. This shall be great felicity. Unto God belongeth the kingdom of heaven and of earth, and of whatever therein is; and he is almighty. [Footnote 82: This title is taken from the Table, which, towards the end of the chapter, is fabled to have been let down from heaven to Jesus. It is sometimes also called the chapter of Contracts, which word occurs in the first verse.] [Footnote 83: As camels, oxen, and sheep; and also wild cows, antelopes, but not swine, nor what is taken in hunting during the pilgrimage.] [Footnote 84: The sacred months in the Mohammedan calendar were the first, the seventh, the eleventh, and the twelfth.] [Footnote 85: A game similar to raffling, arrowheads being used as counters.] [Footnote 86: The Arabic word _al Fatra_ signifies the intermediate space of time between two prophets, during which no new revelation or dispensation was given; as the interval between Moses and Jesus, and between Jesus and Mohammed, at the expiration of which last, Mohammed pretended to be sent.] [Footnote 87: But this punishment, according to the Sonna, is not to be inflicted, unless the value of the thing stolen amount to four dinars, or about $10. For the first offence, the criminal is to lose his right hand, which is to be cut off at the wrist; the second offence, his left foot, at the ankle; for the third, his left hand; for the fourth, his right foot; and if he continue to offend, he shall be scourged at the discretion of the judge.] [Footnote 88: This is to be understood of fish that live altogether in the sea, and not of those that live in the sea and on land both, as crabs. The Turks, who are Hanifites, never eat this sort of fish; but the sect of Malec Ebn Ans, and perhaps some others, make no scruple of it.] [Footnote 89: These were the names given by the pagan Arabs to certain camels or sheep which were turned loose to feed, and exempted from common services, in some particular cases; having their ears slit, or some other mark, that they might be known; and this they did in honor of their gods. Which superstitions are here declared to be no ordinances of God, but the inventions of foolish men.] [Footnote 90: This miracle is thus related by the commentators: Jesus having, at the request of his followers, asked it of God, a red table immediately descended, in their sight, between two clouds, and was set before them; whereupon he rose up, and having made the ablution, prayed, and then took off the cloth which covered the table, saying, "In the name of God, the best provider of food."] LIFE OF BUDDHA BY ASVAGHOSHA BODHISATTVA Translated from Sanscrit into Chinese by Dharmaraksha, A.D. 420; from Chinese into English by Samuel Beal INTRODUCTION Buddha is undoubtedly the most potent name as a religious teacher, in the whole of Asia. The propaganda of the Buddhistic faith passed from the valley of the Indus to the valley of the Ganges, and from Ceylon to the Himalayas; thence it traversed China, and its conquests seem to have been permanent. The religion of Buddha is so far different from that of Confucius, and so far resembles Christianity, that it combines mysticism with asceticism--a practical rule of personal conduct with a consistent transcendentalism. It has, moreover, the great advantage of possessing a highly fascinating and romantic gospel, or biography, of its founder. Gautama, as the hero of Arnold's "Light of Asia," is very well known to English readers, and, although Sir Edwin Arnold is not by any means a poet of the first order, he has done a great deal to familiarize the Anglo-Saxon mind with Oriental life and thought. A far more faithful life of Buddha is that written some time in the first century of our era by the twelfth Buddhist patriarch Asvaghosha. This learned ecclesiastic appears to have travelled about through different districts of India, patiently collecting the stories and traditions which related to the life of his master. These he wove into a Sanscrit poem, which three hundred years later was translated into Chinese, from which version our present translation is made. There can be no doubt that the author of the Sanscrit poem was a famous preacher and musician. Originally living in central India, he seems to have wandered far and wide exercising his office, and reciting or singing his poem--a sacred epic, more thrilling to the ears of India than the wrath of Achilles, or the voyages of Ulysses. We are told that Asvaghosha took a choir of musicians with him, and many were converted to Buddhism through the combined persuasiveness of poetry and preaching. The present life of Buddha, although it labors under the disadvantage of transfusion from Sanscrit into Chinese, and from Chinese into English, is by no means destitute of poetic color and aroma. When, for instance, we read of the grief-stricken Yasodhara that "her breath failed her, and sinking thus she fell upon the dusty ground," we come upon a stately pathos, worthy of Homer or Lucretius. And what can be more beautiful than the account of Buddha's conversion and sudden conviction, that all earthly things were vanity. The verses once heard linger in the memory so as almost to ring in the ears: "Thus did he complete the end of self, as fire goes out for want of grass. Thus he had done what he would have men do: he first had found the way of perfect knowledge. He finished thus the first great lesson; entering the great Rishi's house, the darkness disappeared, light burst upon him; perfectly silent and at rest, he reached the last exhaustless source of truth; lustrous with all wisdom the great Rishi sat, perfect in gifts, whilst one convulsive throe shook the wide earth." E.W. LIFE OF BUDDHA CHAPTER I The Birth There was a descendant of the Ikshvâku family, an invincible Sâkya monarch, pure in mind and of unspotted virtue, called therefore Pure-rice, or Suddhodana. Joyously reverenced by all men, as the new moon is welcomed by the world, the king indeed was like the heaven-ruler Sakra, his queen like the divine Saki. Strong and calm of purpose as the earth, pure in mind as the water-lily, her name, figuratively assumed, Mâyâ, she was in truth incapable of class-comparison. On her in likeness as the heavenly queen descended the spirit and entered her womb. A mother, but free from grief or pain, she was without any false or illusory mind. Disliking the clamorous ways of the world, she remembered the excellent garden of Lumbini, a pleasant spot, a quiet forest retreat, with its trickling fountains, and blooming flowers and fruits. Quiet and peaceful, delighting in meditation, respectfully she asked the king for liberty to roam therein; the king, understanding her earnest desire, was seized with a seldom-felt anxiety to grant her request. He commanded his kinsfolk, within and without the palace, to repair with her to that garden shade; and now the queen Mâyâ knew that her time for child-bearing was come. She rested calmly on a beautiful couch, surrounded by a hundred thousand female attendants; it was the eighth day of the fourth moon, a season of serene and agreeable character. Whilst she thus religiously observed the rules of a pure discipline, Bodhisattva was born from her right side, come to deliver the world, constrained by great pity, without causing his mother pain or anguish. As king Yu-liu was born from the thigh, as King Pi-t'au was born from the hand, as King Man-to was born from the top of the head, as King Kia-k'ha was born from the arm-pit, so also was Bodhisattva on the day of his birth produced from the right side; gradually emerging from the womb, he shed in every direction the rays of his glory. As one born from recumbent space, and not through the gates of life, through countless kalpas, practising virtue, self-conscious he came forth to life, without confusion. Calm and collected, not falling headlong was he born, gloriously manifested, perfectly adorned, sparkling with light he came from the womb, as when the sun first rises from the East. Men indeed regarded his exceeding great glory, yet their sight remained uninjured: he allowed them to gaze, the brightness of his person concealed for the time, as when we look upon the moon in the heavens. His body, nevertheless, was effulgent with light, and like the sun which eclipses the shining of the lamp, so the true gold-like beauty of Bodhisattva shone forth, and was diffused everywhere. Upright and firm and unconfused in mind, he deliberately took seven steps, the soles of his feet resting evenly upon the ground as he went, his footmarks remained bright as seven stars. Moving like the lion, king of beasts, and looking earnestly towards the four quarters, penetrating to the centre the principles of truth, he spake thus with the fullest assurance: This birth is in the condition of a Buddha; after this I have done with renewed birth; now only am I born this once, for the purpose of saving all the world. And now from the midst of heaven there descended two streams of pure water, one warm, the other cold, and baptized his head, causing refreshment to his body. And now he is placed in the precious palace hall, a jewelled couch for him to sleep upon, and the heavenly kings with their golden flowery hands hold fast the four feet of the bed. Meanwhile the Devas in space, seizing their jewelled canopies, attending, raise in responsive harmony their heavenly songs, to encourage him to accomplish his perfect purpose. Then the Nâga-râgas filled with joy, earnestly desiring to show their reverence for the most excellent law, as they had paid honor to the former Buddhas, now went to meet Bodhisattva; they scattered before him Mandâra flowers, rejoicing with heartfelt joy to pay such religious homage; and so, again, Tathâgata having appeared in the world, the Suddha angels rejoiced with gladness; with no selfish or partial joy, but for the sake of religion they rejoiced, because creation, engulfed in the ocean of pain, was now to obtain perfect release. Then the precious Mountain-râga, Sumeru, firmly holding this great earth when Bodhisattva appeared in the world, was swayed by the wind of his perfected merit. On every hand the world was greatly shaken, as the wind drives the tossing boat; so also the minutest atoms of sandal perfume, and the hidden sweetness of precious lilies floated on the air, and rose through space, and then commingling, came back to earth; so again the garments of Devas descending from heaven touching the body, caused delightful thrills of joy; the sun and moon with constant course redoubled the brilliancy of their light, whilst in the world the fire's gleam of itself prevailed without the use of fuel. Pure water, cool and refreshing from the springs, flowed here and there, self-caused; in the palace all the waiting women were filled with joy at such an unprecedented event. Proceeding all in company, they drink and bathe themselves; in all arose calm and delightful thoughts; countless inferior Devas, delighting in religion, like clouds assembled. In the garden of Lumbinî, filling the spaces between the trees, rare and special flowers, in great abundance, bloomed out of season. All cruel and malevolent kinds of beings, together conceived a loving heart; all diseases and afflictions among men without a cure applied, of themselves were healed. The various cries and confused sounds of beasts were hushed and silence reigned; the stagnant water of the river-courses flowed apace, whilst the polluted streams became clear and pure. No clouds gathered throughout the heavens, whilst angelic music, self caused, was heard around; the whole world of sentient creatures enjoyed peace and universal tranquillity. Just as when a country visited by desolation, suddenly obtains an enlightened ruler, so when Bodhisattva was born, he came to remove the sorrows of all living things. Mâra,[91] the heavenly monarch, alone was grieved and rejoiced not. The Royal Father (Suddhodana), beholding his son, strange and miraculous, as to his birth, though self-possessed and assured in his soul, was yet moved with astonishment and his countenance changed, whilst he alternately weighed with himself the meaning of such an event, now rejoiced and now distressed. The queen-mother beholding her child, born thus contrary to laws of nature, her timorous woman's heart was doubtful; her mind, through fear, swayed between extremes: Not distinguishing the happy from the sad portents, again and again she gave way to grief; and now the aged women of the world, in a confused way supplicating heavenly guidance, implored the gods to whom their rites were paid, to bless the child; to cause peace to rest upon the royal child. Now there was at this time in the grove, a certain soothsayer, a Brahman, of dignified mien and wide-spread renown, famed for his skill and scholarship: beholding the signs, his heart rejoiced, and he exulted at the miraculous event. Knowing the king's mind to be somewhat perplexed, he addressed him with truth and earnestness: "Men born in the world, chiefly desire to have a son the most renowned; but now the king, like the moon when full, should feel in himself a perfect joy, having begotten an unequalled son, (for by this the king) will become illustrious among his race; let then his heart be joyful and glad, banish all anxiety and doubt, the spiritual omens that are everywhere manifested indicate for your house and dominion a course of continued prosperity. The most excellently endowed child now born will bring deliverance to the entire world: none but a heavenly teacher has a body such as this, golden-colored, gloriously resplendent. One endowed with such transcendent marks must reach the state of Samyak-Sambodhi, or, if he be induced to engage in worldly delights, then he must become a universal monarch; everywhere recognized as the ruler of the great earth, mighty in his righteous government, as a monarch ruling the four empires, uniting under his sway all other rulers; as among all lesser lights, the sun's brightness is by far the most excellent. But if he seek a dwelling among the mountain forests, with single heart searching for deliverance, having arrived at the perfection of true wisdom, he will become illustrious throughout the world; for as Mount Sumeru is monarch among all mountains, or, as gold is chief among all precious things; or, as the ocean is supreme among all streams; or, as the moon is first among the stars; or, as the sun is brightest of all luminaries, so Tathâgata, born in the world, is the most eminent of men; his eyes clear and expanding, the lashes both above and below moving with the lid, the iris of the eye of a clear blue color, in shape like the moon when half full, such characteristics as these, without contradiction, foreshadow the most excellent condition of perfect wisdom." At this time the king addressed the twice-born,[92] "If it be as you say, with respect to these miraculous signs, that they indicate such consequences, then no such case has happened with former kings, nor down to our time has such a thing occurred." The Brahman addressed the king thus, "Say not so; for it is not right; for with regard to renown and wisdom, personal celebrity, and worldly substance, these four things indeed are not to be considered according to precedent or subsequence; but whatever is produced according to nature, such things are liable to the law of cause and effect: but now whilst I recount some parallels let the king attentively listen:--Bhrigu, Angira, these two of Rishi family, having passed many years apart from men, each begat an excellently endowed son; Brihaspati with Sukra, skilful in making royal treatises, not derived from former families (or tribes); Sârasvata, the Rishi, whose works have long disappeared, begat a son, Po-lo-sa, who compiled illustrious Sûtras and Shâstras; that which now we know and see, is not therefore dependent on previous connection; Vyâsa, the Rishi, the author of numerous treatises, after his death had among his descendants Poh-mi (Vâlmîki), who extensively collected Gâthâ sections; Atri, the Rishi, not understanding the sectional treatise on medicine, afterwards begat Âtreya, who was able to control diseases; the twice-born Rishi Kusi (Kusika), not occupied with heretical treatises, afterwards begat Kia-ti-na-râga, who thoroughly understood heretical systems; the sugar-cane monarch, who began his line, could not restrain the tide of the sea, but Sagara-râga, his descendant, who begat a thousand royal sons, he could control the tide of the great sea so that it should come no further. Ganaka, the Rishi, without a teacher acquired power of abstraction. All these, who obtained such renown, acquired powers of themselves; those distinguished before, were afterwards forgotten; those before forgotten, became afterwards distinguished; kings like these and god-like Rishis have no need of family inheritance, and therefore the world need not regard those going before or following. So, mighty king! is it with you: you should experience true joy of heart, and because of this joy should banish forever doubt or anxiety." The king, hearing the words of the seer, was glad, and offered him increased gifts. "Now have I begotten a valiant son," he said, "who will establish a wheel authority, whilst I, when old and gray-headed, will go forth to lead a hermit's life, so that my holy, king-like son may not give up the world and wander through mountain forests." And now near the spot within the garden, there was a Rishi, leading the life of an ascetic; his name was Asita, wonderfully skilful in the interpretation of signs; he approached the gate of the palace; the king beholding him exclaimed, "This is none other but Brahmadeva, himself enduring penance from love of true religion, these two characteristics so plainly visible as marks of his austerities." Then the king was much rejoiced; and forthwith he invited him within the palace, and with reverence set before him entertainment, whilst he, entering the inner palace, rejoiced only in prospect of seeing the royal child. Although surrounded by the crowd of court ladies, yet still he was as if in desert solitude; and now they place a preaching throne and pay him increased honor and religious reverence, as Antideva râga reverenced the priest Vasishtha. Then the king, addressing the Rishi, said: "Most fortunate am I, great Rishi! that you have condescended to come here to receive from me becoming gifts and reverence; I pray you therefore enter on your exhortation." Thus requested and invited, the Rishi felt unutterable joy, and said, "All hail, ever victorious monarch! possessed of all noble, virtuous qualities, loving to meet the desires of those who seek, nobly generous in honoring the true law, conspicuous as a race for wisdom and humanity, with humble mind you pay me homage, as you are bound. Because of your righteous deeds in former lives, now are manifested these excellent fruits; listen to me, then, whilst I declare the reason of the present meeting. As I was coming on the sun's way, I heard the Devas in space declare that the king had born to him a royal son, who would arrive at perfect intelligence; moreover I beheld such other portents, as have constrained me now to seek your presence; desiring to see the Sâkya monarch who will erect the standard of the true law." The king, hearing the Rishi's words, was fully assured; escaping from the net of doubt, he ordered an attendant to bring the prince, to exhibit him to the Rishi. The Rishi, beholding the prince, the thousand-rayed wheel on the soles of his feet, the web-like filament between his fingers, between his eyebrows the white wool-like prominence, his complexion bright and lustrous; seeing these wonderful birth-portents, the seer wept and sighed deeply. The king beholding the tears of the Rishi, thinking of his son, his soul was overcome, and his breath fast held his swelling heart. Thus alarmed and ill at ease, unconsciously he arose from his seat, and bowing his head at the Rishi's feet, he addressed him in these words: "This son of mine, born thus wonderfully, beautiful in face, and surpassingly graceful, little different from the gods in form, giving promise of superiority in the world, ah! why has he caused thee grief and pain? Forbid it, that my son should die! or should be short-lived!--the thought creates in me grief and anxiety; that one athirst, within reach of the eternal draught,[93] should after all reject and lose it! sad indeed! Forbid it, he should lose his wealth and treasure! dead to his house! lost to his country! for he who has a prosperous son in life, gives pledge that his country's weal is well secured; and then, coming to die, my heart will rest content, rejoicing in the thought of offspring surviving me; even as a man possessed of two eyes, one of which keeps watch, while the other sleeps; not like the frost-flower of autumn, which, though it seems to bloom, is not a reality. A man who, midst his tribe and kindred, deeply loves a spotless son, at every proper time in recollection of it has joy; O! that you would cause me to revive!" The Rishi, knowing the king-sire to be thus greatly afflicted at heart, immediately addressed the Mahârâga: "Let not the king be for a moment anxious! the words I have spoken to the king, let him ponder these, and not permit himself to doubt; the portents now are as they were before, cherish then no other thoughts! But recollecting I myself am old, on that account I could not hold my tears; for now my end is coming on. But this son of thine will rule the world, born for the sake of all that lives! this is indeed one difficult to meet with; he shall give up his royal estate, escape from the domain of the five desires, with resolution and with diligence practise austerities, and then awakening, grasp the truth. Then constantly, for the world's sake (all living things), destroying the impediments of ignorance and darkness, he shall give to all enduring light, the brightness of the sun of perfect wisdom. All flesh submerged in the sea of sorrow; all diseases collected as the bubbling froth; decay and age like the wild billows; death like the engulfing ocean; embarking lightly in the boat of wisdom he will save the world from all these perils, by wisdom stemming back the flood. His pure teaching like to the neighboring shore, the power of meditation, like a cool lake, will be enough for all the unexpected birds; thus deep and full and wide is the great river of the true law; all creatures parched by the drought of lust may freely drink thereof, without stint; those enchained in the domain of the five desires, those driven along by many sorrows, and deceived amid the wilderness of birth and death, in ignorance of the way of escape, for these Bodhisattva has been born in the world, to open out a way of salvation. The fire of lust and covetousness, burning with the fuel of the objects of sense, he has caused the cloud of his mercy to rise, so that the rain of the law may extinguish them. The heavy gates of gloomy unbelief, fast kept by covetousness and lust, within which are confined all living things, he opens and gives free deliverance. With the tweezers of his diamond wisdom he plucks out the opposing principles of lustful desire. In the self-twined meshes of folly and ignorance all flesh poor and in misery, helplessly lying, the king of the law has come forth, to rescue these from bondage. Let not the king in respect of this his son encourage in himself one thought of doubt or pain; but rather let him grieve on account of the world, led captive by desire, opposed to truth; but I, indeed, amid the ruins of old age and death, am far removed from the meritorious condition of the holy one, possessed indeed of powers of abstraction, yet not within reach of the gain he will give, to be derived from his teaching as the Bodhisattva; not permitted to hear his righteous law, my body worn out, after death, alas! destined to be born as a Deva[94] still liable to the three calamities, old age, decay, and death, therefore I weep." The king and all his household attendants, hearing the words of the Rishi, knowing the cause of his regretful sorrow, banished from their minds all further anxiety: "And now," the king said, "to have begotten this excellent son, gives me rest at heart; but that he should leave his kingdom and home, and practise the life of an ascetic, not anxious to ensure the stability of the kingdom, the thought of this still brings with it pain." At this time the Rishi, turning to the king with true words, said, "It must be even as the king anticipates, he will surely arrive at perfect enlightenment." Thus having appeased every anxious heart among the king's household, the Rishi by his own inherent spiritual power ascended into space and disappeared. At this time Suddhodana râga, seeing the excellent marks (predictive signs) of his son, and, moreover, hearing the words of Asita, certifying that which would surely happen, was greatly affected with reverence to the child: he redoubled measures for its protection, and was filled with constant thought; moreover, he issued decrees through the empire, to liberate all captives in prison, according to the custom when a royal son was born, giving the usual largess, in agreement with the directions of the Sacred Books, and extending his gifts to all; or, all these things he did completely. When the child was ten days old, his father's mind being now quite tranquil, he announced a sacrifice to all the gods, and prepared to give liberal offerings to all the religious bodies; Srâmanas and Brahmanas invoked by their prayers a blessing from the gods, whilst he bestowed gifts on the royal kinspeople and the ministers and the poor within the country; the women who dwelt in the city or the villages, all those who needed cattle or horses or elephants or money, each, according to his necessities, was liberally supplied. Then, selecting by divination a lucky time, they took the child back to his own palace, with a double-feeding white-pure-tooth, carried in a richly-adorned chariot (cradle), with ornaments of every kind and color round his neck; shining with beauty, exceedingly resplendent with unguents. The queen embracing him in her arms, going around, worshipped the heavenly spirits. Afterwards she remounted her precious chariot, surrounded by her waiting women; the king, with his ministers and people, and all the crowd of attendants, leading the way and following, even as the ruler of heaven, Sakra, is surrounded by crowds of Devas; as Mahesvara, when suddenly his six-faced child was born; arranging every kind of present, gave gifts, and asked for blessings; so now the king, when his royal son was born, made all his arrangements in like manner. So Vaisravana, the heavenly king, when Nalakûvara was born, surrounded by a concourse of Devas, was filled with joy and much gladness; so the king, now the royal prince was born, in the kingdom of Kapila, his people and all his subjects were likewise filled with joy. * * * * * Living in the Palace And now in the household of Suddhodana râga, because of the birth of the royal prince, his clansmen and younger brethren, with his ministers, were all generously disposed, whilst elephants, horses and chariots, and the wealth of the country, and precious vessels, daily increased and abounded, being produced wherever requisite; so, too, countless hidden treasures came of themselves from the earth. From the midst of the pure snowy mountains, a wild herd of white elephants, without noise, of themselves, came; not curbed by any, self-subdued, every kind of colored horse, in shape and quality surpassingly excellent, with sparkling jewelled manes and flowing tails, came prancing round, as if with wings; these too, born in the desert, came at the right time, of themselves. A herd of pure-colored, well-proportioned cows, fat and fleshy, and remarkable for beauty, giving fragrant and pure milk with equal flow, came together in great number at this propitious time. Enmity and envy gave way to peace; content and rest prevailed on every side; whilst there was closer union amongst the true of heart, discord and variance were entirely appeased; the gentle air distilled a seasonable rain, no crash of storm or tempest was heard, the springing seeds, not waiting for their time, grew up apace and yielded abundant increase; the five cereals grew ripe with scented grain, soft and glutinous, easy of digestion; all creatures big with young, possessed their bodies in ease and their frames well gathered. All men, even those who had not received the seeds of instruction derived from the four holy ones;[95] all these, throughout the world, born under the control of selfish appetite, without any thought for others' goods, had no proud, envious longings; no angry, hateful thoughts. All the temples of the gods and sacred shrines, the gardens, wells, and fountains, all these like things in heaven, produced of themselves, at the proper time, their several adornments. There was no famishing hunger, the soldiers' weapons were at rest, all diseases disappeared; throughout the kingdom all the people were bound close in family love and friendship; piously affectioned they indulged in mutual pleasures, there were no impure or polluting desires; they sought their daily gain righteously, no covetous money-loving spirit prevailed, but with religious purpose they gave liberally; there was no thought of any reward or return, but all practised the four rules of purity; and every hateful thought was suppressed and destroyed. Even as in days gone by, Manu râga begat a child called "Brilliancy of the Sun," on which there prevailed through the country great prosperity, and all wickedness came to an end; so now the king having begotten a royal prince, these marks of prosperity were seen; and because of such a concourse of propitious signs, the child was named Siddhârtha.[96] And now his royal mother, the queen Mâyâ, beholding her son born under such circumstances, beautiful as a child of heaven, adorned with every excellent distinction, from excessive joy which could not be controlled died, and was born in heaven. Then Pragâ-pati Gautami, beholding the prince, like an angel, with beauty seldom seen on earth, seeing him thus born and now his mother dead, loved and nourished him as her own child; and the child regarded her as his mother. So as the light of the sun or the moon, little by little increases, the royal child also increased each day in every mental excellency and beauty of person; his body exhaled the perfume of priceless sandal-wood, decorated with the famed Gambunada gold gems; divine medicines there were to preserve him in health, glittering necklaces upon his person; the members of tributary states, hearing that the king had an heir born to him, sent their presents and gifts of various kinds: oxen, sheep, deer, horses, and chariots, precious vessels and elegant ornaments, fit to delight the heart of the prince; but though presented with such pleasing trifles, the necklaces and other pretty ornaments, the mind of the prince was unmoved, his bodily frame small indeed, but his heart established; his mind at rest within its own high purposes, was not to be disturbed by glittering baubles. And now he was brought to learn the useful arts, when lo! once instructed he surpassed his teachers. His father, the king, seeing his exceeding talent, and his deep purpose to have done with the world and its allurements, began to inquire as to the names of those in his tribe who were renowned for elegance and refinement. Elegant and graceful, and a lovely maiden, was she whom they called Yasodharâ; in every way fitting to become a consort for the prince, and to allure by pleasant wiles his heart. The prince with a mind so far removed from the world, with qualities so distinguished, and with so charming an appearance, like the elder son of Brahmadeva, Sanatkumâra (She-na Kiu-ma-lo); the virtuous damsel, lovely and refined, gentle and subdued in manner; majestic like the queen of heaven, constant ever, cheerful night and day, establishing the palace in purity and quiet, full of dignity and exceeding grace, like a lofty hill rising up in space; or as a white autumn cloud; warm or cool according to the season; choosing a proper dwelling according to the year, surrounded by a return of singing women, who join their voices in harmonious heavenly concord, without any jarring or unpleasant sound, exciting in the hearers forgetfulness of worldly cares. As the heavenly Gandharvas of themselves, in their beauteous palaces, cause the singing women to raise heavenly strains, the sounds of which and their beauty ravish both eyes and heart--so Bodhisattva dwelt in his lofty palace, with music such as this. The king, his father, for the prince's sake, dwelt purely in his palace, practising every virtue; delighting in the teaching of the true law, he put away from him every evil companion, that his heart might not be polluted by lust; regarding inordinate desire as poison, keeping his passion and his body in due control, destroying and repressing all trivial thoughts; desiring to enjoy virtuous conversation, loving instruction fit to subdue the hearts of men, aiming to accomplish the conversion of unbelievers; removing all schemes of opposition from whatever source they came by the enlightening power of his doctrine, aiming to save the entire world; thus he desired that the body of people should obtain rest; even as we desire to give peace to our children, so did he long to give rest to the world. He also attended to his religious duties, sacrificing by fire to all the spirits, with clasped hands adoring the moon, bathing his body in the waters of the Ganges; cleansing his heart in the waters of religion, performing his duties with no private aim, but regarding his child and the people at large; loving righteous conversation, righteous words with loving aim; loving words with no mixture of falsehood, true words imbued by love, and yet withal so modest and self-distrustful, unable on that account to speak as confident of truth; loving to all, and yet not loving the world; with no thought of selfishness or covetous desire: aiming to restrain the tongue and in quietness to find rest from wordy contentions, not seeking in the multitude of religious duties to condone for a worldly principle in action, but aiming to benefit the world by a liberal and unostentatious charity; the heart without any contentious thought, but resolved by goodness to subdue the contentious; desiring to mortify the passions, and to destroy every enemy of virtue; not multiplying coarse or unseemly words, but exhorting to virtue in the use of courteous language; full of sympathy and ready charity, pointing out and practising the way of mutual dependence; receiving and understanding the wisdom of spirits and Rishis; crushing and destroying every cruel and hateful thought. Thus his fame and virtue were widely renowned, and yet himself finally (or, forever) separate from the ties of the world, showing the ability of a master builder, laying a good foundation of virtue, an example for all the earth; so a man's heart composed and at rest, his limbs and all his members will also be at ease. And now the son of Suddhodana, and his virtuous wife Yasodharâ, as time went on, growing to full estate, their child Râhula was born; and then Suddhodana râga considered thus: "My son, the prince, having a son born to him, the affairs of the empire will be handed down in succession, and there will be no end to its righteous government; the prince having begotten a son, will love his son as I love him, and no longer think about leaving his home as an ascetic, but devote himself to the practice of virtue; I now have found complete rest of heart, like one just born to heavenly joys." Like as in the first days of the kalpa, Rishi-kings by the way in which they walked, practising pure and spotless deeds, offered up religious offerings, without harm to living thing, and illustriously prepared an excellent karma, so the king excelling in the excellence of purity in family and excellence of wealth, excelling in strength and every exhibition of prowess, reflected the glory of his name through the world, as the sun sheds abroad his thousand rays. But now, being the king of men, or a king among men, he deemed it right to exhibit his son's prowess, for the sake of his family and kin, to exhibit him; to increase his family's renown, his glory spread so high as even to obtain the name of "God begotten;" and having partaken of these heavenly joys, enjoying the happiness of increased wisdom; understanding the truth by his own righteousness, derived from previous hearing of the truth. Would that this might lead my son, he prayed, to love his child and not forsake his home; the kings of all countries, whose sons have not yet grown up, have prevented them exercising authority in the empire, in order to give their minds relaxation, and for this purpose have provided them with worldly indulgences, so that they may perpetuate the royal seed; so now the king, having begotten a royal son, indulged him in every sort of pleasure; desiring that he might enjoy these worldly delights, and not wish to wander from his home in search of wisdom. In former times the Bodhisattva kings, although their way (life) has been restrained, have yet enjoyed the pleasures of the world, and when they have begotten a son, then separating themselves from family ties, have afterwards entered the solitude of the mountains, to prepare themselves in the way of a silent recluse. * * * * * Disgust at Sorrow Without are pleasant garden glades, flowing fountains, pure refreshing lakes, with every kind of flower, and trees with fruit, arranged in rows, deep shade beneath. There, too, are various kinds of wondrous birds, flying and sporting in the midst, and on the surface of the water the four kinds of flowers, bright colored, giving out their floating scent; minstrel maidens cause their songs and chorded music, to invite the prince. He, hearing the sounds of singing, sighs for the pleasures of the garden shades, and cherishing within these happy thoughts, he dwelt upon the joys of an outside excursion; even as the chained elephant ever longs for the free desert wilds. The royal father, hearing that the prince would enjoy to wander through the gardens, first ordered all his attendant officers to adorn and arrange them, after their several offices:--To make level and smooth the king's highway, to remove from the path all offensive matter, all old persons, diseased or deformed, all those suffering through poverty or great grief, so that his son in his present humor might see nothing likely to afflict his heart. The adornments being duly made, the prince was invited to an audience; the king seeing his son approach, patted his head, and looking at the color of his face, feelings of sorrow and joy intermingled, bound him. His mouth willing to speak, his heart restrained. Now see the jewel-fronted gaudy chariot; the four equally pacing, stately horses; good-tempered and well trained; young and of graceful appearance; perfectly pure and white, and draped with flowery coverings. In the same chariot stands the stately driver; the streets were scattered over with flowers; precious drapery fixed on either side of the way, with dwarfed trees lining the road, costly vessels employed for decoration, hanging canopies and variegated banners, silken curtains, moved by the rustling breeze; spectators arranged on either side of the path. With bodies bent and glistening eyes, eagerly gazing, but not rudely staring, as the blue lotus flower they bent drooping in the air, ministers and attendants flocking round him, as stars following the chief of the constellation; all uttering the same suppressed whisper of admiration, at a sight so seldom seen in the world; rich and poor, humble and exalted, old and young and middle-aged, all paid the greatest respect, and invoked blessings on the occasion. So the country-folk and the town-folk, hearing that the prince was coming forth, the well-to-do not waiting for their servants, those asleep and awake not mutually calling to one another, the six kinds of creatures not gathered together and penned, the money not collected and locked up, the doors and gates not fastened, all went pouring along the way on foot; the towers were filled, the mounds by the trees, the windows and the terraces along the streets; with bent body fearing to lift their eyes, carefully seeing that there was nothing about them to offend, those seated on high addressing those seated on the ground, those going on the road addressing those passing on high, the mind intent on one object alone; so that if a heavenly form had flown past, or a form entitled to highest respect, there would have been no distraction visible, so intent was the body and so immovable the limbs. And now beautiful as the opening lily, he advances towards the garden glades, wishing to accomplish the words of the holy prophet (Rishi). The prince, seeing the ways prepared and watered and the joyous holiday appearance of the people; seeing too the drapery and chariot, pure, bright, shining, his heart exulted greatly and rejoiced. The people (on their part) gazed at the prince, so beautifully adorned, with all his retinue, like an assembled company of kings gathered to see a heaven-born prince. And now a Deva-râga of the Pure abode, suddenly appears by the side of the road; his form changed into that of an old man, struggling for life, his heart weak and oppressed. The prince seeing the old man, filled with apprehension, asked his charioteer, "What kind of man is this? his head white and his shoulders bent, his eyes bleared and his body withered, holding a stick to support him along the way. Is his body suddenly dried up by the heat, or has he been born in this way?" The charioteer, his heart much embarrassed, scarcely dared to answer truly, till the pure-born (Deva) added his spiritual power, and caused him to frame a reply in true words: "His appearance changed, his vital powers decayed, filled with sorrow, with little pleasure, his spirits gone, his members nerveless, these are the indications of what is called 'old age.' This man was once a sucking child, brought up and nourished at his mother's breast, and as a youth full of sportive life, handsome, and in enjoyment of the five pleasures; as years passed on, his frame decaying, he is brought now to the waste of age." The prince, greatly agitated and moved, asked his charioteer another question and said, "Is yonder man the only one afflicted with age, or shall I, and others also, be such as he?" The charioteer again replied and said, "Your highness also inherits this lot: as time goes on, the form itself is changed, and this must doubtless come, beyond all hindrance. The youthful form must wear the garb of age, throughout the world, this is the common lot." Bodhisattva, who had long prepared the foundation of pure and spotless wisdom, broadly setting the root of every high quality, with a view to gather large fruit in his present life, hearing these words respecting the sorrow of age, was afflicted in mind, and his hair stood upright. Just as the roll of the thunder and the storm alarm and put to flight the cattle, so was Bodhisattva affected by the words; shaking with apprehension, he deeply sighed; constrained at heart because of the pain of age; with shaking head and constant gaze, he thought upon this misery of decay; what joy or pleasure can men take, he thought, in that which soon must wither, stricken by the marks of age; affecting all without exception; though gifted now with youth and strength, yet not one but soon must change and pine away. The eye beholding such signs as these before it, how can it not be oppressed by a desire to escape? Bodhisattva then addressed his charioteer: "Quickly turn your chariot and go back. Ever thinking on this subject of old age approaching, what pleasures now can these gardens afford, the years of my life like the fast-flying wind; turn your chariot, and with speedy wheels take me to my palace." And so his heart keeping in the same sad tone, he was as one who returns to a place of entombment; unaffected by any engagement or employment, so he found no rest in anything within his home. The king hearing of his son's sadness urged his companions to induce him again to go abroad, and forthwith incited his ministers and attendants to decorate the gardens even more than before. The Deva then caused himself to appear as a sick man; struggling for life, he stood by the wayside, his body swollen and disfigured, sighing with deep-drawn groans; his hands and knees contracted and sore with disease, his tears flowing as he piteously muttered his petition. The prince asked his charioteer, "What sort of man, again, is this?" Replying, he said, "This is a sick man. The four elements all confused and disordered, worn and feeble, with no remaining strength, bent down with weakness, looking to his fellow-men for help." The prince hearing the words thus spoken, immediately became sad and depressed in heart, and asked, "Is this the only man afflicted thus, or are others liable to the same calamity?" In reply he said, "Through all the world, men are subject to the same condition; those who have bodies must endure affliction, the poor and ignorant, as well as the rich and great." The prince, when these words met his ears, was oppressed with anxious thought and grief; his body and his mind were moved throughout, just as the moon upon the ruffled tide. "Placed thus in the great furnace of affliction, say! what rest or quiet can there be! Alas! that worldly men, blinded by ignorance and oppressed with dark delusion, though the robber sickness may appear at any time, yet live with blithe and joyous hearts!" On this, turning his chariot back again, he grieved to think upon the pain of sickness. As a man beaten and wounded sore, with body weakened, leans upon his staff, so dwelt he in the seclusion of his palace, lone-seeking, hating worldly pleasures. The king, hearing once more of his son's return, asked anxiously the reason why, and in reply was told--"he saw the pain of sickness." The king, in fear, like one beside himself, roundly blamed the keepers of the way; his heart constrained, his lips spoke not; again he increased the crowd of music-women, the sounds of merriment twice louder than aforetime, if by these sounds and sights the prince might be gratified; and indulging worldly feelings, might not hate his home. Night and day the charm of melody increased, but his heart was still unmoved by it. The king himself then went forth to observe everything successively, and to make the gardens even yet more attractive, selecting with care the attendant women, that they might excel in every point of personal beauty; quick in wit and able to arrange matters well, fit to ensnare men by their winning looks; he placed additional keepers along the king's way, he strictly ordered every offensive sight to be removed, and earnestly exhorted the illustrious coachman, to look well and pick out the road as he went. And now that Deva of the Pure abode, again caused the appearance of a dead man; four persons carrying the corpse lifted it on high, and appeared (to be going on) in front of Bodhisattva; the surrounding people saw it not, but only Bodhisattva and the charioteer. Once more he asked, "What is this they carry? with streamers and flowers of every choice description, whilst the followers are overwhelmed with grief, tearing their hair and wailing piteously." And now the gods instructing the coachman, he replied and said, "This is a dead man: all his powers of body destroyed, life departed; his heart without thought, his intellect dispersed; his spirit gone, his form withered and decayed; stretched out as a dead log; family ties broken--all his friends who once loved him, clad in white cerements, now no longer delighting to behold him, remove him to lie in some hollow ditch tomb." The prince hearing the name of Death, his heart constrained by painful thoughts, he asked, "Is this the only dead man, or does the world contain like instances?" Replying thus he said, "All, everywhere, the same; he who begins his life must end it likewise; the strong and lusty and the middle-aged, having a body, cannot but decay and die." The prince was now harassed and perplexed in mind; his body bent upon the chariot leaning-board, with bated breath and struggling accents, stammered thus, "Oh worldly men! how fatally deluded! beholding everywhere the body brought to dust, yet everywhere the more carelessly living; the heart is neither lifeless wood nor stone, and yet it thinks not 'all is vanishing!'" Then turning, he directed his chariot to go back, and no longer waste his time in wandering. How could he, whilst in fear of instant death, go wandering here and there with lightened heart! The charioteer remembering the king's exhortation feared much nor dared go back; straightforward then he pressed his panting steeds, passed onward to the gardens, came to the groves and babbling streams of crystal water, the pleasant trees, spread out with gaudy verdure, the noble living things and varied beasts so wonderful, the flying creatures and their notes melodious; all charming and delightful to the eye and ear, even as the heavenly Nandavana. Putting Away Desire On the prince entering the garden the women came around to pay him court; and to arouse in him thoughts frivolous; with ogling ways and deep design, each one setting herself off to best advantage; or joining together in harmonious concert, clapping their hands, or moving their feet in unison, or joining close, body to body, limb to limb; or indulging in smart repartees, and mutual smiles; or assuming a thoughtful saddened countenance, and so by sympathy to please the prince, and provoke in him a heart affected by love. But all the women beheld the prince, clouded in brow, and his god-like body not exhibiting its wonted signs of beauty; fair in bodily appearance, surpassingly lovely, all looked upwards as they gazed, as when we call upon the moon Deva to come; but all their subtle devices were ineffectual to move Bodhisattva's heart. At last commingling together they join and look astonished and in fear, silent without a word. Then there was a Brahmaputra, whose name was called Udâyi (Yau-to-i). He, addressing the women, said, "Now all of you, so graceful and fair, see if you cannot by your combined power hit on some device; for beauty's power is not forever. Still it holds the world in bondage, by secret ways and lustful arts; but no such loveliness in all the world as yours, equal to that of heavenly nymphs; the gods beholding it would leave their queens, spirits and Rishis would be misled by it; why not then the prince, the son of an earthly king? why should not his feelings be aroused? This prince indeed, though he restrains his heart and holds it fixed, pure-minded, with virtue uncontaminated, not to be overcome by power of women; yet of old there was Sundarî (Su-to-li) able to destroy the great Rishi, and to lead him to indulge in love, and so degrade his boasted eminence; undergoing long penance, Gautama fell likewise by the arts of a heavenly queen; Shing-kü, a Rishi putra, practising lustful indulgences according to fancy, was lost. The Brahman Rishi Visvâmitra (Pi-she-po), living religiously for ten thousand years, deeply ensnared by a heavenly queen, in one day was completely shipwrecked in faith; thus those enticing women, by their power, overcame the Brahman ascetics; how much more may ye, by your arts, overpower the resolves of the king's son; strive therefore after new devices, let not the king fail in a successor to the throne; women, though naturally weak, are high and potent in the way of ruling men. What may not their arts accomplish in promoting in men a lustful desire?" At this time all the attendant women, hearing throughout the words of Udâyi, increasing their powers of pleasing, as the quiet horse when touched by the whip, went into the presence of the royal prince, and each one strove in the practice of every kind of art. They joined in music and in smiling conversation, raising their eyebrows, showing their white teeth, with ogling looks, glancing one at the other, their light drapery exhibiting their white bodies, daintily moving with mincing gait, acting the part of a bride as if coming gradually nearer, desiring to promote in him a feeling of love, remembering the words of the great king, "With dissolute form and slightly clad, forgetful of modesty and womanly reserve." The prince with resolute heart was silent and still, with unmoved face he sat; even as the great elephant-dragon, whilst the entire herd moves round him; so nothing could disturb or move his heart, dwelling in their midst as in a confined room. Like the divine Sakra, around whom all the Devîs assemble, so was the prince as he dwelt in the gardens; the maidens encircling him thus; some arranging their dress, others washing their hands or feet, others perfuming their bodies with scent, others twining flowers for decoration, others making strings for jewelled necklets, others rubbing or striking their bodies, others resting, or lying, one beside the other; others, with head inclined, whispering secret words, others engaged in common sports, others talking of amorous things, others assuming lustful attitudes, striving thus to move his heart. But Bodhisattva, peaceful and collected, firm as a rock, difficult to move, hearing all these women's talk, unaffected either to joy or sorrow, was driven still more to serious thought, sighing to witness such strange conduct, and beginning to understand the women's design, by these means to disconcert his mind, not knowing that youthful beauty soon falls, destroyed by old age and death, fading and perishing! This is the great distress! What ignorance and delusion (he reflected) overshadow their minds: "Surely they ought to consider old age, disease, and death, and day and night stir themselves up to exertion, whilst this sharp double-edged sword hangs over the neck. What room for sport or laughter, beholding those monsters, old age, disease, and death? A man who is unable to resort to this inward knowledge, what is he but a wooden or a plaster man, what heart-consideration in such a case! Like the double tree that appears in the desert, with leaves and fruit all perfect and ripe, the first cut down and destroyed, the other unmoved by apprehension, so it is in the case of the mass of men: they have no understanding either!" At this time Udâyi came to the place where the prince was, and observing his silent and thoughtful mien, unmoved by any desire for indulgence, he forthwith addressed the prince, and said, "The Mahâraga, by his former appointment, has selected me to act as friend to his son; may I therefore speak some friendly words? an enlightened friendship is of three sorts: that which removes things unprofitable, promotes that which is real gain, and stands by a friend in adversity. I claim the name of 'enlightened friend,' and would renounce all that is magisterial, but yet not speak lightly or with indifference. What then are the three sources of advantage? listen, and I will now utter true words, and prove myself a true and sincere adviser. When the years are fresh and ripening, beauty and pleasing qualities in bloom, not to give proper weight to woman's influence, this is a weak man's policy. It is right sometimes to be of a crafty mind, submitting to those little subterfuges which find a place in the heart's undercurrents, and obeying what those thoughts suggest in way of pleasures to be got from dalliance: this is no wrong in woman's eye! even if now the heart has no desire, yet it is fair to follow such devices; agreement is the joy of woman's heart, acquiescence is the substance (the full) of true adornment; but if a man reject these overtures, he's like a tree deprived of leaves and fruits; why then ought you to yield and acquiesce? that you may share in all these things. Because in taking, there's an end of trouble--no light and changeful thoughts then worry us--for pleasure is the first and foremost thought of all, the gods themselves cannot dispense with it. Lord Sakra was drawn by it to love the wife of Gautama the Rishi; so likewise the Rishi Agastya, through a long period of discipline, practising austerities, from hankering after a heavenly queen (Devî), lost all reward of his religious endeavors, the Rishi Brihaspati, and Kandradeva putra; the Rishi Parâsara, and Kavañgara (Kia-pin-ke-lo). All these, out of many others, were overcome by woman's love. How much more then, in your case, should you partake in such pleasant joys; nor refuse, with wilful heart, to participate in the worldly delights, which your present station, possessed of such advantages, offers you, in the presence of these attendants." At this time the royal prince, hearing the words of his friend Udâyi, so skilfully put, with such fine distinction, cleverly citing worldly instances, answered thus to Udâyi: "Thank you for having spoken sincerely to me; let me likewise answer you in the same way, and let your heart suspend its judgment whilst you listen:--It is not that I am careless about beauty, or am ignorant of the power of human joys, but only that I see on all the impress of change; therefore my heart is sad and heavy; if these things were sure of lasting, without the ills of age, disease, and death, then would I too take my fill of love; and to the end find no disgust or sadness. If you will undertake to cause these women's beauty not to change or wither in the future, then, though the joy of love may have its evil, still it might hold the mind in thraldom. To know that other men grow old, sicken, and die, would be enough to rob such joys of satisfaction; yet how much more in their own case (knowing this) would discontentment fill the mind; to know such pleasures hasten to decay, and their bodies likewise; if, notwithstanding this, men yield to the power of love, their case indeed is like the very beasts. And now you cite the names of many Rishis, who practised lustful ways in life; their cases likewise cause me sorrow, for in that they did these things, they perished. Again, you cite the name of that illustrious king, who freely gratified his passions, but he, in like way, perished in the act; know, then, that he was not a conqueror; with smooth words to conceal an intrigue, and to persuade one's neighbor to consent, and by consenting to defile his mind; how can this be called a just device? It is but to seduce one with a hollow lie--such ways are not for me to practise; or, for those who love the truth and honesty; for they are, forsooth, unrighteous ways, and such a disposition is hard to reverence; shaping one's conduct after one's likings, liking this or that, and seeing no harm in it, what method of experience is this! A hollow compliance, and a protesting heart, such method is not for me to follow; but this I know, old age, disease, and death, these are the great afflictions which accumulate, and overwhelm me with their presence; on these I find no friend to speak, alas! alas! Udâyi! these, after all, are the great concerns; the pain of birth, old age, disease, and death; this grief is that we have to fear; the eyes see all things falling to decay, and yet the heart finds joy in following them; but I have little strength of purpose, or command; this heart of mine is feeble and distraught, reflecting thus on age, disease, and death. Distracted, as I never was before; sleepless by night and day, how can I then indulge in pleasure? Old age, disease, and death consuming me, their certainty beyond a doubt, and still to have no heavy thoughts, in truth my heart would be a log or stone." Thus the prince, for Uda's sake, used every kind of skilful argument, describing all the pains of pleasure; and not perceiving that the day declined. And now the waiting women all, with music and their various attractions, seeing that all were useless for the end, with shame began to flock back to the city; the prince beholding all the gardens, bereft of their gaudy ornaments, the women all returning home, the place becoming silent and deserted, felt with twofold strength the thought of impermanence. With saddened mien going back, he entered his palace. The king, his father, hearing of the prince, his heart estranged from thoughts of pleasure, was greatly overcome with sorrow, and like a sword it pierced his heart. Forthwith assembling all his council, he sought of them some means to gain his end; they all replied, "These sources of desire are not enough to hold and captivate his heart." Leaving the City And so the king increased the means for gratifying the appetite for pleasure; both night and day the joys of music wore out the prince, opposed to pleasure; disgusted with them, he desired their absence, his mind was weaned from all such thoughts, he only thought of age, disease, and death; as the lion wounded by an arrow. The king then sent his chief ministers, and the most distinguished of his family, young in years and eminent for beauty, as well as for wisdom and dignity of manners, to accompany and rest with him, both night and day, in order to influence the prince's mind. And now within a little interval, the prince again requested the king that he might go abroad. Once more the chariot and the well-paced horses were prepared, adorned with precious substances and every gem; and then with all the nobles, his associates, surrounding him, he left the city gates. Just as the four kinds of flower, when the sun shines, open out their leaves, so was the prince in all his spiritual splendor; effulgent in the beauty of his youth-time. As he proceeded to the gardens from the city, the road was well prepared, smooth, and wide, the trees were bright with flowers and fruit, his heart was joyous, and forgetful of its care. Now by the roadside, as he beheld the ploughmen, plodding along the furrows, and the writhing worms, his heart again was moved with piteous feeling, and anguish pierced his soul afresh; to see those laborers at their toil, struggling with painful work, their bodies bent, their hair dishevelled, the dripping sweat upon their faces, their persons fouled with mud and dust; the ploughing oxen, too, bent by the yokes, their lolling tongues and gaping mouths. The nature of the prince, loving, compassionate, his mind conceived most poignant sorrow, and nobly moved to sympathy, he groaned with pain; then stooping down he sat upon the ground, and watched this painful scene of suffering; reflecting on the ways of birth and death! "Alas! he cried, for all the world! how dark and ignorant, void of understanding!" And then to give his followers chance of rest, he bade them each repose where'er they list, whilst he beneath the shadow of a Gambu tree, gracefully seated, gave himself to thought. He pondered on the fact of life and death, inconstancy, and endless progress to decay. His heart thus fixed without confusion, the five senses covered and clouded over, lost in possession of enlightenment and insight, he entered on the first pure state of ecstasy. All low desire removed, most perfect peace ensued; and fully now in Samâdhi he saw the misery and utter sorrow of the world; the ruin wrought by age, disease, and death; the great misery following on the body's death; and yet men not awakened to the truth! oppressed with others' suffering (age, disease, and death), this load of sorrow weighed his mind. "I now will seek," he said, "a noble law, unlike the worldly methods known to men. I will oppose disease and age and death, and strive against the mischief wrought by these on men." Thus lost in tranquil contemplation, he considered that youth, vigor, and strength of life, constantly renewing themselves, without long stay, in the end fulfil the rule of ultimate destruction. Thus he pondered, without excessive joy or grief, without hesitation or confusion of thought, without dreaminess or extreme longing, without aversion or discontent, but perfectly at peace, with no hindrance, radiant with the beams of increased illumination. At this time a Deva of the Pure abode, transforming himself into the shape of a Bhikshu, came to the place where the prince was seated; the prince with due consideration rose to meet him, and asked him who he was. In reply he said, "I am a Shâman, depressed and sad at thought of age, disease, and death; I have left my home to seek some way of rescue, but everywhere I find old age, disease, and death; all things hasten to decay and there is no permanency. Therefore I search for the happiness of something that decays not, that never perishes, that never knows beginning, that looks with equal mind on enemy and friend, that heeds not wealth nor beauty; the happiness of one who finds repose alone in solitude, in some unfrequented dell, free from molestation, all thoughts about the world destroyed; dwelling in some lonely hermitage, untouched by any worldly source of pollution, begging for food sufficient for the body." And forthwith as he stood before the prince, gradually rising up he disappeared in space. The prince, with joyful mind, considering, recollected former Buddhas, established thus in perfect dignity of manner; with noble mien and presence, as this visitor. Thus calling things to mind with perfect self-possession, he reached the thought of righteousness, and by what means it can be gained. Indulging thus for some time in thoughts of religious solitude, he now suppressed his feelings and controlled his members, and rising turned again towards the city. His followers all flocked after him, calling him to stop and not go far from them, but in his mind these secret thoughts so held him, devising means by which to escape from the world, that though his body moved along the road, his heart was far away among the mountains; even as the bound and captive elephant ever thinks about his desert wilds. The prince now entering the city, there met him men and women, earnest for their several ends; the old besought him for their children, the young sought something for the wife, others sought something for their brethren; all those allied by kinship or by family, aimed to obtain their several suits, all of them joined in relationship dreading the pain of separation. And now the prince's heart was filled with joy, as he suddenly heard those words "separation and association." "These are joyful sounds to me," he said, "they assure me that my vow shall be accomplished." Then deeply pondering the joy of "snapped relationship," the idea of Nirvâna, deepened and widened in him, his body as a peak of the Golden Mount, his shoulder like the elephant's, his voice like the spring-thunder, his deep-blue eye like that of the king of oxen; his mind full of religious thoughts, his face bright as the full moon, his step like that of the lion king, thus he entered his palace; even as the son of Lord Sakra, or Sakra-putra, his mind reverential, his person dignified, he went straight to his father's presence, and with head inclined, inquired, "Is the king well?" Then he explained his dread of age, disease, and death, and sought respectfully permission to become a hermit. "For all things in the world," he said, "though now united, tend to separation." Therefore he prayed to leave the world; desiring to find "true deliverance." His royal father hearing the words "leave the world," was forthwith seized with great heart-trembling, even as the strong wild elephant shakes with his weight the boughs of some young sapling; going forward, seizing the prince's hands, with falling tears, he spake as follows: "Stop! nor speak such words, the time is not yet come for 'a religious life;' you are young and strong, your heart beats full, to lead a religious life frequently involves trouble; it is rarely possible to hold the desires in check, the heart not yet estranged from their enjoyment; to leave your home and lead a painful ascetic life, your heart can hardly yet resolve on such a course. To dwell amidst the desert wilds or lonely dells, this heart of yours would not be perfectly at rest, for though you love religious matters, you are not yet like me in years; you should undertake the kingdom's government, and let me first adopt ascetic life; but to give up your father and your sacred duties, this is not to act religiously; you should suppress this thought of 'leaving home,' and undertake your worldly duties, find your delight in getting an illustrious name, and after this give up your home and family." The prince, with proper reverence and respectful feelings, again besought his royal father; but promised if he could be saved from four calamities, that he would give up the thought of "leaving home." If he would grant him life without end, no disease, nor undesirable old age, and no decay of earthly possessions, then he would obey and give up the thought of "leaving home." The royal father then addressed the prince, "Speak not such words as these, for with respect to these four things, who is there able to prevent them, or say nay to their approach; asking such things as these, you would provoke men's laughter! But put away this thought of 'leaving home,' and once more take yourself to pleasure." The prince again besought his father, "If you may not grant me these four prayers, then let me go I pray, and leave my home. O! place no difficulties in my path; your son is dwelling in a burning house, would you indeed prevent his leaving it! To solve a doubt is only reasonable, who could forbid a man to seek its explanation? Or if he were forbidden, then by self-destruction he might solve the difficulty, in an unrighteous way: and if he were to do so, who could restrain him after death?" The royal father, seeing his son's mind so firmly fixed that it could not be turned, and that it would be waste of strength to bandy further words or arguments, forthwith commanded more attendant women, to provoke still more his mind to pleasure; day and night he ordered them to keep the roads and ways, to the end that he might not leave his palace. He moreover ordered all the ministers of the country to come to the place where dwelt the prince, to quote and illustrate the rules of filial piety, hoping to cause him to obey the wishes of the king. The prince, beholding his royal father bathed with tears and o'erwhelmed with grief, forthwith returned to his abode, and sat himself in silence to consider; all the women of the palace, coming towards him, waited as they circled him, and gazed in silence on his beauteous form. They gazed upon him not with furtive glance, but like the deer in autumn brake looks wistfully at the hunter; around the prince's straight and handsome form, bright as the mountain of true gold (Sumeru). The dancing women gathered doubtingly, waiting to hear him bid them sound their music; repressing every feeling of the heart through fear, even as the deer within the brake; now gradually the day began to wane, the prince still sitting in the evening light, his glory streaming forth in splendor, as the sun lights up Mount Sumeru; thus seated on his jewelled couch, surrounded by the fumes of sandal-wood, the dancing women took their places round; then sounded forth their heavenly music, even as Vaisaman produces every kind of rare and heavenly sounds. The thoughts which dwelt within the prince's mind entirely drove from him desire for music, and though the sounds filled all the place, they fell upon his ear unnoticed. At this time the Deva of the Pure abode, knowing the prince's time was come, the destined time for quitting home, suddenly assumed a form and came to earth, to make the shapes of all the women unattractive, so that they might create disgust, and no desire arise from thought of beauty. Their half-clad forms bent in ungainly attitudes, forgetful in their sleep, their bodies crooked or supine, the instruments of music lying scattered in disorder; leaning and facing one another, or with back to back, or like those beings thrown into the abyss, their jewelled necklets bound about like chains, their clothes and undergarments swathed around their persons; grasping their instruments, stretched along the earth, even as those undergoing punishment at the hands of keepers, their garments in confusion, or like the broken kani flower; or some with bodies leaning in sleep against the wall, in fashion like a hanging bow or horn, or with their hands holding to the window-frames, and looking like an outstretched corpse. Their mouths half opened or else gaping wide, the loathsome dribble trickling forth, their heads uncovered and in wild disorder, like some unreasoning madman's; the flower wreaths torn and hanging across their face, or slipping off the face upon the ground; others with body raised as if in fearful dread, just like the lonely desert bird; or others pillowed on their neighbor's lap, their hands and feet entwined together, whilst others smiled or knit their brows in turn; some with eyes closed and open mouth, their bodies lying in wild disorder, stretched here and there, like corpses thrown together. And now the prince seated, in his beauty, looked with thought on all the waiting women; before, they had appeared exceeding lovely, their laughing words, their hearts so light and gay, their forms so plump and young, their looks so bright; but now, how changed! so uninviting and repulsive. And such is woman's disposition! how can they, then, be ever dear, or closely trusted; such false appearances! and unreal pretences; they only madden and delude the minds of men. "And now," he said, "I have awakened to the truth! Resolved am I to leave such false society." At this time the Deva of the Pure abode descended and approached, unfastening the doors. The prince, too, at this time rose and walked along, amid the prostrate forms of all the women; with difficulty reaching the inner hall, he called to Kandaka, in these words, "My mind is now athirst and longing for the draught of the fountain of sweet dew; saddle then my horse, and quickly bring it here. I wish to reach the deathless city; my heart is fixed beyond all change, resolved I am and bound by sacred oath; these women, once so charming and enticing, now behold I altogether loathsome; the gates, which were before fast-barred and locked, now stand free and open! these evidences of something supernatural, point to a climax of my life." Then Kandaka stood reflecting inwardly, whether to obey or not the prince's order, without informing his royal father of it, and so incur the heaviest punishment. The Devas then gave spiritual strength; and unperceived the horse equipped came round, with even pace; a gallant steed, with all his jewelled trappings for a rider; high-maned, with flowing tail, broad-backed, short-haired and eared, with belly like the deer's, head like the king of parrots, wide forehead, round and claw-shaped nostrils, breath like the dragon's, with breast and shoulders square, true and sufficient marks of his high breed. The royal prince, stroking the horse's neck, and rubbing down his body, said, "My royal father ever rode on thee, and found thee brave in fight and fearless of the foe; now I desire to rely on thee alike! to carry me far off to the stream (ford) of endless life, to fight against and overcome the opposing force of men, the men who associate in search of pleasure, the men who engage in the search after wealth, the crowds who follow and flatter such persons; in opposing sorrow, friendly help is difficult to find, in seeking religious truth there must be rare enlightenment, let us then be knit together thus as friends; then, at last, there will be rest from sorrow. But now I wish to go abroad, to give deliverance from pain; now then, for your own sake it is, and for the sake of all your kind, that you should exert your strength, with noble pace, without lagging or weariness." Having thus exhorted him, he bestrode his horse, and grasping the reins proceeded forth; the man like the sun shining forth from his tabernacle, the horse like the white floating cloud, exerting himself but without exciting haste, his breath concealed and without snorting; four spirits (Devas) accompanying him, held up his feet, heedfully concealing his advance, silently and without noise; the heavy gates fastened and barred, the heavenly spirits of themselves caused to open. Reverencing deeply the virtuous father, loving deeply the unequalled son, equally affected with love towards all the members of his family these Devas took their place. Suppressing his feelings, but not extinguishing his memory, lightly he advanced and proceeded beyond the city, pure and spotless as the lily flowers which spring from the mud; looking up with earnestness at his father's palace, he announced his purpose--unwitnessed and unwritten--"If I escape not birth, old age, and death, for evermore I pass not thus along." All the concourse of Devas, the space-filling Nâgas and spirits followed joyfully and exclaimed, "Well! well!" in confirmation of the true words he spoke. The Nâgas and the company of Devas acquired a condition of heart difficult to obtain, and each with his own inherent light led on the way shedding forth their brightness. Thus man and horse, both strong of heart, went onwards, lost to sight like streaming stars, but ere the eastern quarter flashed with light, they had advanced three yoganas. [Footnote 91: Mâra, the king of the world of desire. According to the Buddhist theogony he is the god of sensual love. He holds the world in sin. He was the enemy of Buddha, and endeavored in every way to defeat him. He is also described as the king of death.] [Footnote 92: That is, the Brahman wearing the twice-born thread.] [Footnote 93: The "eternal draught" or "sweet dew" of Ambrosia. This expression is constantly used in Buddhist writings. It corresponds with the Pali amatam, which Childers explains as the "drink of the gods."] [Footnote 94: The condition of the highest Deva, according to Buddhism, does not exempt him from re-birth; subject to the calamities incident on such a renewal of life.] [Footnote 95: This seems to mean that those who had not received benefit from the teaching of the four previous Buddhas, that even these were placable and well-disposed.] [Footnote 96: The description here given of the peace and content prevailing in the world on the birth of Bodhisattva (and his name given to him in consequence) resembles the account of the golden age in classic authors.] CHAPTER II The Return of Kandaka And now the night was in a moment gone, and sight restored to all created things, when the royal prince looked through the wood, and saw the abode of Po-ka, the Rishi. The purling streams so exquisitely pure and sparkling, and the wild beasts all unalarmed at man, caused the royal prince's heart to exult. Tired, the horse stopped of his own will, to breathe. "This, then," he thought, "is a good sign and fortunate, and doubtless indicates divine approval." And now he saw belonging to the Rishi, the various vessels used for asking charity, and other things arranged by him in order, without the slightest trace of negligence. Dismounting then he stroked his horse's head, and cried, "You now have borne me well!" With loving eyes he looked at Kandaka: eyes like the pure cool surface of a placid lake and said, "Swift-footed! like a horse in pace, yea! swift as any light-winged bird, ever have you followed after me when riding, and deeply have I felt my debt of thanks, but not yet had you been tried in other ways; I only knew you as a man true-hearted, my mind now wonders at your active powers of body; these two I now begin to see are yours; a man may have a heart most true and faithful, but strength of body may not too be his; bodily strength and perfect honesty of heart, I now have proof enough are yours. To be content to leave the tinselled world, and with swift foot to follow me, who would do this but for some profit; if without profit to his kin, who would not shun it? But you, with no private aim, have followed me, not seeking any present recompense; as we nourish and bring up a child, to bind together and bring honor to a family, so we also reverence and obey a father, to gain obedience and attention from a begotten son; in this way all think of their own advantage; but you have come with me disdaining profit; with many words I cannot hold you here, so let me say in brief to you, we have now ended our relationship; take, then, my horse and ride back again; for me, during the long night past, that place I sought to reach now I have obtained." Then taking off his precious neck-chain, he handed it to Kandaka. "Take this," he said, "I give it you, let it console you in your sorrow." The precious jewel in the tire that bound his head, bright-shining, lighting up his person, taking off and placing in his extended palm, like the sun which lights up Sumeru, he said, "O Kandaka! take this gem, and going back to where my father is, take the jewel and lay it reverently before him, to signify my heart's relation to him; and then, for me, request the king to stifle every fickle feeling of affection, and say that I, to escape from birth and age and death, have entered on the wild forest of painful discipline; not that I may get a heavenly birth, much less because I have no tenderness of heart, or that I cherish any cause of bitterness, but only that I may escape this weight of sorrow. The accumulated long-night weight of covetous desire (love), I now desire to ease the load so that it may be overthrown forever; therefore I seek the way of ultimate escape; if I should obtain emancipation, then shall I never need to put away my kindred, to leave my home, to sever ties of love. O! grieve not for your son! The five desires of sense beget the sorrow; those held by lust themselves induce the sorrow. My very ancestors, victorious kings, thinking their throne established and immovable, have handed down to me their kingly wealth; I, thinking only on religion, put it all away; the royal mothers at the end of life their cherished treasures leave for their sons, those sons who covet much such worldly profit; but I rejoice to have acquired religious wealth; if you say that I am young and tender, and that the time for seeking wisdom is not come, you ought to know that to seek true religion, there never is a time not fit; impermanence and fickleness, the hate of death, these ever follow us, and therefore I embrace the present day, convinced that now is time to seek religion. With such entreaties as the above, you must make matters plain on my behalf; but, pray you, cause my father not to think longingly after me; let him destroy all recollection of me, and cut out from his soul the ties of love; and you, grieve not because of what I say, but recollect to give the king my message." Kandaka hearing respectfully the words of exhortation, blinded and confused through choking sorrow, with hands outstretched did worship; and answering the prince, he spoke, "The orders that you give me will, I fear, add grief to grief, and sorrow thus increased will deepen, as the elephant who struggles into deeper mire. When the ties of love are rudely snapped, who, that has any heart, would not grieve! The golden ore may still by stamping be broken up, how much more the feelings choked with sorrow! the prince has grown up in a palace, with every care bestowed upon his tender person, and now he gives his body to the rough and thorny forest; how will he be able to bear a life of privation? When first you ordered me to equip your steed, my mind was indeed sorely troubled, but the heavenly powers urged me on, causing me to hasten the preparation of the horse, but what is the intention that urges the prince, to resolve thus to leave his secure palace? The people of Kapilavastu, and all the country afflicted with grief; your father, now an old man, mindful of his son, loving him moreover tenderly; surely this determination to leave your home, this is not according to duty; it is wrong, surely, to disregard father and mother--we cannot speak of such a thing with propriety! Gotami, too, who has nourished you so long, fed you with milk when a helpless child, such love as hers cannot easily be forgotten; it is impossible surely to turn the back on a benefactor; the highly gifted virtuous mother of a child, is ever respected by the most distinguished families; to inherit distinction and then to turn round, is not the mark of a distinguished man. The illustrious child of Yasodharâ, who has inherited a kingdom, rightly governed, his years now gradually ripening, should not thus go away from and forsake his home; but though he has gone away from his royal father, and forsaken his family and his kin, forbid it he should still drive me away, let me not depart from the feet of my master; my heart is bound to thee, as the heat is bound up in the boiling water. I cannot return without thee to my country; to return and leave the prince thus, in the midst of the solitude of the desert, then should I be like Sumanta, who left and forsook Râma; and now if I return alone to the palace, what words can I address to the king? How can I reply to the reproaches of all the dwellers in the palace with suitable words? Therefore let the prince rather tell me, how I may truly describe, and with what device, the disfigured body, and the merit-seeking condition of the hermit! I am full of fear and alarm, my tongue can utter no words; tell me then what words to speak; but who is there in the empire will believe me? If I say that the moon's rays are scorching, there are men, perhaps, who may believe me; but they will not believe that the prince, in his conduct, will act without piety; for the prince's heart is sincere and refined, always actuated with pity and love to men. To be deeply affected with love, and yet to forsake the object of love, this surely is opposed to a constant mind. O then, for pity's sake! return to your home, and thus appease my foolish longings." The prince having listened to Kandaka, pitying his grief expressed in so many words, with heart resolved and strong in its determination, spoke thus to him once more, and said: "Why thus on my account do you feel the pain of separation? you should overcome this sorrowful mood, it is for you to comfort yourself; all creatures, each in its way, foolishly arguing that all things are constant, would influence me to-day not to forsake my kin and relatives; but when dead and come to be a ghost, how then, let them say, can I be kept? My loving mother when she bore me, with deep affection painfully carried me, and then when born she died, not permitted to nourish me. One alive, the other dead, gone by different roads, where now shall she be found? Like as in a wilderness, on some high tree, all the birds living with their mates assemble in the evening and at dawn disperse, so are the separations of the world; the floating clouds rise like a high mountain, from the four quarters they fill the void, in a moment again they are separated and disappear; so is it with the habitations of men; people from the beginning have erred thus, binding themselves in society and by the ties of love, and then, as after a dream, all is dispersed; do not then recount the names of my relatives; for like the wood which is produced in spring, gradually grows and brings forth its leaves, which again fall in the autumn-chilly-dews--if the different parts of the same body are thus divided--how much more men who are united in society! and how shall the ties of relationship escape rending? Cease therefore your grief and expostulation, obey my commands and return home; the thought of your return alone will save me, and perhaps after your return I also may come back. The men of Kapilavastu, hearing that my heart is fixed, will dismiss from their minds all thought of me, but you may make known my words, 'when I have escaped from the sad ocean of birth and death, then afterwards I will come back again; but I am resolved, if I obtain not my quest, my body shall perish in the mountain wilds.'" The white horse hearing the prince, as he uttered these true and earnest words, bent his knee and licked his foot, whilst he sighed deeply and wept. Then the prince with his soft and glossy palm, fondly stroking the head of the white horse, said, "Do not let sorrow rise within, I grieve indeed at losing you, my gallant steed--so strong and active, your merit now has gained its end; you shall enjoy for long a respite from an evil birth, but for the present take as your reward these precious jewels and this glittering sword, and with them follow closely after Kandaka." The prince then drawing forth his sword, glancing in the light as the dragon's eye, cut off the knot of hair with its jewelled stud, and forthwith cast it into space; ascending upwards to the firmament, it floated there as the wings of the phoenix; then all the Devas of the Trayastrimsa heavens seizing the hair, returned with it to their heavenly abodes; desiring always to adore the feet (offer religious service), how much rather now possessed of the crowning locks, with unfeigned piety do they increase their adoration, and shall do till the true law has died away. Then the royal prince thought thus, "My adornments now are gone forever, there only now remain these silken garments, which are not in keeping with a hermit's life." Then the Deva of the Pure abode, knowing the heart-ponderings of the prince, transformed himself into a hunter's likeness, holding his bow, his arrows in his girdle, his body girded with a Kashâya-colored robe, thus he advanced in front of the prince. The prince considering this garment of his, the color of the ground, a fitting pure attire, becoming to the utmost the person of a Rishi, not fit for a hunter's dress, forthwith called to the hunter, as he stood before him, in accents soft, and thus addressed him: "That dress of thine belikes me much, as if it were not foul, and this my dress I'll give thee in exchange, so please thee." The hunter then addressed the prince, "Although I ill can spare this garment, which I use as a disguise among the deer, that alluring them within reach I may kill them, notwithstanding, as it so pleases you, I am now willing to bestow it in exchange for yours." The hunter having received the sumptuous dress, took again his heavenly body. The prince and Kandaka, the coachman, seeing this, thought deeply thus: "This garment is of no common character, it is not what a worldly man has worn"--and in the prince's heart great joy arose, as he regarded the coat with double reverence, and forthwith giving all the other things to Kandaka, he himself was clad in it, of Kashâya color; then like the dark and lowering cloud, that surrounds the disc of the sun or moon, he for a moment gazed, scanning his steps, then entered on the hermit's grot; Kandaka following him with wistful eyes, his body disappeared, nor was it seen again. "My lord and master now has left his father's house, his kinsfolk and myself," he cried; "he now has clothed himself in hermit's garb, and entered the painful forest." Raising his hands he called on Heaven, o'erpowered with grief he could not move; till holding by the white steed's neck, he tottered forward on the homeward road, turning again and often looking back, his body going on, his heart back-hastening; now lost in thought and self-forgetful, now looking down to earth, then raising up his drooping eye to heaven, falling at times and then rising again, thus weeping as he went, he pursued his way homewards. Entering the Place of Austerities The prince having dismissed Kandaka, as he entered the Rishis' abode, his graceful body brightly shining, lit up on every side the forest "place of suffering"; himself gifted with every excellence, according to his gifts, so were they reflected. As the lion, the king of beasts, when he enters among the herd of beasts, drives from their minds all thoughts of common things, as now they watch the true form of their kind, so those Rishi masters assembled there, suddenly perceiving the miraculous portent, were struck with awe and fearful gladness, as they gazed with earnest eyes and hands conjoined. The men and women, engaged in various occupations, beholding him, with unchanged attitudes, gazed as the gods look on King Sakra, with constant look and eyes unmoved; so the Rishis, with their feet fixed fast, looked at him even thus; whatever in their hands they held, without releasing it, they stopped and looked; even as the ox when yoked to the wain, his body bound, his mind also restrained; so also the followers of the holy Rishis, each called the other to behold the miracle. The peacocks and the other birds with cries commingled flapped their wings; the Brahmakârins holding the rules of deer, following the deer wandering through mountain glades, as the deer coarse of nature, with flashing eyes, regard the prince with fixed gaze; so following the deer, those Brahmakârins intently gaze likewise, looking at the exceeding glory of the Ikshvâku. As the glory of the rising sun is able to affect the herds of milch kine, so as to increase the quantity of their sweet-scented milk, so those Brahmakârins, with wondrous joy, thus spoke one to the other: "Surely this is one of the eight Vasu Devas"; others, "this is one of the two Asvins"; others, "this is Mâra"; others, "this is one of the Brahmakâyikas"; others, "this is Sûryadeva or Kandradeva, coming down; are they not seeking here a sacrifice which is their due? Come let us haste to offer our religious services!" The prince, on his part, with respectful mien addressed to them polite salutation. Then Bodhisattva, looking with care in every direction on the Brahmakârins occupying the wood, each engaged in his religious duties, all desirous of the delights of heaven, addressed the senior Brahmakârin, and asked him as to the path of true religion. "Now having just come here, I do not yet know the rules of your religious life. I ask you therefore for information, and I pray explain to me what I ask." On this that twice-born (Brahman) in reply explained in succession all the modes of painful discipline, and the fruits expected as their result. How some ate nothing brought from inhabited places but that produced from pure water, others edible roots and tender twigs, others fruits and flowers fit for food, each according to the rules of his sect, clothing and food in each case different; some living amongst bird-kind, and like them capturing and eating food; others eating as the deer the grass and herbs; others living like serpents, inhaling air; others eating nothing pounded in wood or stone; some eating with two teeth, till a wound be formed; others, again, begging their food and giving it in charity, taking only the remnants for themselves; others, again, who let water continually drip on their heads and those who offer up with fire; others who practise water-dwelling like fish; thus there are Brahmakârins of every sort, who practise austerities, that they may at the end of life obtain a birth in heaven, and by their present sufferings afterwards obtain peaceable fruit. The lord of men, the excellent master, hearing all their modes of sorrow-producing penance, not perceiving any element of truth in them, experienced no joyful emotion in his heart; lost in thought, he regarded the men with pity, and with his heart in agreement his mouth thus spake: "Pitiful indeed are such sufferings! and merely in quest of a human or heavenly reward, ever revolving in the cycle of birth or death, how great your sufferings, how small the recompense! Leaving your friends, giving up honorable position; with a firm purpose to obtain the joys of heaven, although you may escape little sorrows, yet in the end involved in great sorrow; promoting the destruction of your outward form, and undergoing every kind of painful penance, and yet seeking to obtain another birth; increasing and prolonging the causes of the five desires, not considering that herefrom birth and death, undergoing suffering and, by that, seeking further suffering; thus it is that the world of men, though dreading the approach of death, yet strive after renewed birth; and being thus born, they must die again. Although still dreading the power of suffering, yet prolonging their stay in the sea of pain. Disliking from their heart their present kind of life, yet still striving incessantly after other life; enduring affliction that they may partake of joy; seeking a birth in heaven, to suffer further trouble; seeking joys, whilst the heart sinks with feebleness. For this is so with those who oppose right reason; they cannot but be cramped and poor at heart. But by earnestness and diligence, then we conquer. Walking in the path of true wisdom, letting go both extremes, we then reach ultimate perfection; to mortify the body, if this is religion, then to enjoy rest, is something not resulting from religion. To walk religiously and afterwards to receive happiness, this is to make the fruit of religion something different from religion; but bodily exercise is but the cause of death, strength results alone from the mind's intention; if you remove from conduct the purpose of the mind, the bodily act is but as rotten wood; wherefore, regulate the mind, and then the body will spontaneously go right. You say that to eat pure things is a cause of religious merit, but the wild beasts and the children of poverty ever feed on these fruits and medicinal herbs; these then ought to gain much religious merit. But if you say that the heart being good then bodily suffering is the cause of further merit, then I ask why may not those who live in ease, also possess a virtuous heart? If joys are opposed to a virtuous heart, a virtuous heart may also be opposed to bodily suffering; if, for instance, all those heretics profess purity because they use water in various ways, then those who thus use water among men, even with a wicked mind, yet ought ever to be pure. But if righteousness is the groundwork of a Rishi's purity, then the idea of a sacred spot as his dwelling, being the cause of his righteousness is wrong. What is reverenced, should be known and seen. Reverence indeed is due to righteous conduct, but let it not redound to the place or mode of life." Thus speaking at large on religious questions, they went on till the setting sun. He then beheld their rites in connection with sacrifice to fire, the drilling for sparks and the fanning into flame, also the sprinkling of the butter libations, also the chanting of the mystic prayers, till the sun went down. The prince considering these acts, could not perceive the right reason of them, and was now desirous to turn and go. Then all those Brahmakârins came together to him to request him to stay; regarding with reverence the dignity of Bodhisattva, very desirous, they earnestly besought him: "You have come from an irreligious place, to this wood where true religion flourishes, and yet, now, you wish to go away; we beg you, then, on this account, to stay." All the old Brahmakârins, with their twisted hair and bark clothes, came following after Bodhisattva, asking him as a god to stay a little while. Bodhisattva seeing these aged ones following him, their bodies worn with macerations, stood still and rested beneath a tree; and soothing them, urged them to return. Then all the Brahmakârins, young and old, surrounding him, made their request with joined hands: "You who have so unexpectedly arrived here, amid these garden glades so full of attraction, why now are you leaving them and going away, to seek perfection in the wilderness? As a man loving long life, is unwilling to let go his body, so we are even thus; would that you would stop awhile. This is a spot where Brahmans and Rishis have ever dwelt, royal Rishis and heavenly Rishis, these all have dwelt within these woods. The places on the borders of the snowy mountains, where men of high birth undergo their penance, those places are not to be compared to this. All the body of learned masters from this place have reached heaven; all the learned Rishis who have sought religious merit, have from this place and northwards found it; those who have attained a knowledge of the true law, and gained divine wisdom come not from southwards; if you indeed see us remiss and not earnest enough, practising rules not pure, and on that account are not pleased to stay, then we are the ones that ought to go; you can still remain and dwell here; all these different Brahmakârins ever desire to find companions in their penances. And you, because you are conspicuous for your religious earnestness, should not so quickly cast away their society: if you can remain here, they will honor you as god Sakra, yea! as the Devas pay worship to Brihaspati." Then Bodhisattva answered the Brahmakârins and told them what his desires were: "I am seeking for a true method of escape, I desire solely to destroy all mundane influences; but you, with strong hearts, practise your rules as ascetics, and pay respectful attention to such visitors as may come. My heart indeed is moved with affection towards you, for pleasant conversation is agreeable to all, those who listen are affected thereby; and so hearing your words, my mind is strengthened in religious feeling; you indeed have all paid me much respect, in agreement with the courtesy of your religious profession; but now I am constrained to depart, my heart grieves thereat exceedingly: first of all, having left my own kindred, and now about to be separated from you. The pain of separation from associates, this pain is as great as the other; it is impossible for my mind not to grieve, as it is not to see others' faults. But you, by suffering pain, desire earnestly to obtain the joys of birth in heaven; whilst I desire to escape from the three worlds, and therefore I give up what my reason tells me must be rejected. The law which you practise, you inherit from the deeds of former teachers, but I, desiring to destroy all combination, seek a law which admits of no such accident. And, therefore, I cannot in this grove delay for a longer while in fruitless discussions." At this time all the Brahmakârins, hearing the words spoken by Bodhisattva, words full of right reason and truth, very excellent in the distinction of principles, their hearts rejoiced and exulted greatly, and deep feelings of reverence were excited within them. At this time there was one Brahmakârin, who always slept in the dust, with tangled hair and raiment of the bark of trees, his eyes bleared, preparing himself in an ascetic practice called "high-nose."[97] This one addressed Bodhisattva in the following words: "Strong in will! bright in wisdom! firmly fixed in resolve to escape the limits of birth, knowing that in escape from birth there alone is rest, not affected by any desire after heavenly blessedness, the mind set upon the eternal destruction of the bodily form, you are indeed miraculous in appearance, as you are alone in the possession of such a mind. To sacrifice to the gods, and to practise every kind of austerity, all this is designed to secure a birth in heaven, but here there is no mortification of selfish desire, there is still a selfish personal aim; but to bend the will to seek final escape, this is indeed the work of a true teacher, this is the aim of an enlightened master; this place is no right halting-place for you; you ought to proceed to Mount Pinda: there dwells a great Muni, whose name is A-lo-lam. He only has reached the end of religious aims, the most excellent eye of the law. Go, therefore, to the place where he dwells, and listen there to the true exposition of the law. This will make your heart rejoice, as you learn to follow the precepts of his system. As for me, beholding the joy of your resolve, and fearing that I shall not obtain rest, I must once more let go those following me, and seek other disciples; straighten my head and gaze with my full eyes; anoint my lips and cleanse my teeth; cover my shoulders and make bright my face, smooth my tongue and make it pliable. Thus, O excellently marked sir! fully drinking at the fountain of the water you give, I shall escape from the unfathomable depths. In the world nought is comparable to this, that which old men and Rishis have not known, that shall I know and obtain." Bodhisattva having listened to these words, left the company of the Rishis, whilst they all, turning round him to the right, returned to their place. The General Grief of the Palace Kandaka leading back the horse, opening the way for his heart's sorrow, as he went on, lamented and wept: unable to disburden his soul. First of all with the royal prince, passing along the road for one night, but now dismissed and ordered to return. As the darkness of night closed on him, irresolute he wavered in mind. On the eighth day approaching the city, the noble horse pressed onwards, exhibiting all his qualities of speed; but yet hesitating as he looked around and beheld not the form of the royal prince; his four members bent down with toil, his head and neck deprived of their glossy look, whinnying as he went on with grief, he refused night and day his grass and water, because he had lost his lord, the deliverer of men. Returning thus to Kapilavastu, the whole country appeared withered and bare, as when one comes back to a deserted village; or as when the sun hidden behind Sumeru causes darkness to spread over the world. The fountains of water sparkled no more, the flowers and fruits were withered and dead, the men and women in the streets seemed lost in grief and dismay. Thus Kandaka with the white horse went on sadly and with slow advance, silent to those inquiring, wearily progressing as when accompanying a funeral; so they went on, whilst all the spectators seeing Kandaka, but not observing the royal Sâkya prince, raised piteous cries of lamentation and wept; as when the charioteer returned without Râma. Then one by the side of the road, with his body bent, called out to Kandaka: "The prince, beloved of the world, the defender of his people, the one you have taken away by stealth, where dwells he now?" Kandaka, then, with sorrowful heart, replied to the people and said: "I with loving purpose followed after him whom I loved; 'tis not I who have deserted the prince, but by him have I been sent away; by him who now has given up his ordinary adornments, and with shaven head and religious garb, has entered the sorrow-giving grove." Then the men hearing that he had become an ascetic, were oppressed with thoughts of wondrous boding; they sighed with heaviness and wept, and as their tears coursed down their cheeks, they spake thus one to the other: "What then shall we do?" Then they all exclaimed at once, "Let us haste after him in pursuit; for as when a man's bodily functions fail, his frame dies and his spirit flees, so is the prince our life, and he our life gone, how shall we survive? This city, perfected with slopes and woods; those woods, that cover the slopes of the city, all deprived of grace, ye lie as Bharata when killed!" Then the men and women within the town, vainly supposing the prince had come back, in haste rushed out to the heads of the way, and seeing the horse returning alone, not knowing whether the prince was safe or lost, began to weep and to raise every piteous sound; and said, "Behold! Kandaka advancing slowly with the horse, comes back with sighs and tears; surely he grieves because the prince is lost." And thus sorrow is added to sorrow! Then like a captive warrior is drawn before the king his master, so did he enter the gates with tears, his eyes filled so that he said nought. Then looking up to heaven he loudly groaned; and the white horse too whined piteously; then all the varied birds and beasts in the palace court, and all the horses within the stables, hearing the sad whinnying of the royal steed, replied in answer to him, thinking "now the prince has come back." But seeing him not, they ceased their cries! And now the women of the after-palace, hearing the cries of the horses, birds, and beasts, their hair dishevelled, their faces wan and yellow, their forms sickly to look at, their mouths and lips parched, their garments torn and unwashed, the soil and heat not cleansed from their bodies, their ornaments all thrown aside, disconsolate and sad, cheerless in face, raised their bodies, without any grace, even as the feeble little morning star; their garments torn and knotted, soiled like the appearance of a robber, seeing Kandaka and the royal horse shedding tears instead of the hoped-for return, they all, assembled thus, uttered their cry, even as those who weep for one beloved just dead. Confused and wildly they rushed about, as a herd of oxen that have lost their way. Mahâpragâpati Gotamî, hearing that the prince had not returned, fell fainting on the ground, her limbs entirely deprived of strength, even as some mad tornado wind crushes the golden-colored plantain tree; and again, hearing that her son had become a recluse, deeply sighing and with increased sadness she thought, "Alas! those glossy locks turning to the right, each hair produced from each orifice, dark and pure, gracefully shining, sweeping the earth when loose,[98] or when so determined, bound together in a heavenly crown, and now shorn and lying in the grass! Those rounded shoulders and that lion step! Those eyes broad as the ox-king's, that body shining bright as yellow gold; that square breast and Brahma voice; that you! possessing all these excellent qualities, should have entered on the sorrow-giving forest; what fortune now remains for the world, losing thus the holy king of earth? That those delicate and pliant feet, pure as the lily and of the same color, should now be torn by stones and thorns; O how can such feet tread on such ground! Born and nourished in the guarded palace, clad with garments of the finest texture, washed in richly scented water, anointed with the choicest perfumes, and now exposed to chilling blasts and dews of night, O! where during the heat or the chilly morn can rest be found! Thou flower of all thy race! Confessed by all the most renowned! Thy virtuous qualities everywhere talked of and exalted, ever reverenced, without self-seeking! why hast thou unexpectedly brought thyself upon some morn to beg thy food for life! Thou who wert wont to repose upon a soft and kingly couch, and indulge in every pleasure during thy waking hours: how canst thou endure the mountain and the forest wilds, on the bare grass to make thyself a resting-place!" Thus thinking of her son--her heart was full of sorrow, disconsolate she lay upon the earth. The waiting women raised her up, and dried the tears from off her face, whilst all the other courtly ladies, overpowered with grief, their limbs relaxed, their minds bound fast with woe, unmoved they sat like pictured-folk. And now Yasodharâ, deeply chiding, spoke thus to Kandaka: "Where now dwells he, who ever dwells within my mind? You two went forth, the horse a third, but now two only have returned! My heart is utterly o'erborne with grief, filled with anxious thoughts, it cannot rest. And you, deceitful man! Untrustworthy and false associate! evil contriver! plainly revealed a traitor, a smile lurks underneath thy tears! Escorting him in going; returning now with wails! Not one at heart--but in league against him--openly constituted a friend and well-wisher, concealing underneath a treacherous purpose; so thou hast caused the sacred prince to go forth once and not return again! No questioning the joy you feel! Having done ill you now enjoy the fruit; better far to dwell with an enemy of wisdom, than work with one who, while a fool, professes friendship. Openly professing sweetness and light, inwardly a scheming and destructive enemy. And now this royal and kingly house, in one short morn is crushed and ruined! All these fair and queen-like women, with grief o'erwhelmed, their beauty marred, their breathing choked with tears and sobs, their faces soiled with crossing tracks of grief! Even the queen (Mâyâ) when in life, resting herself on him, as the great snowy mountains repose upon the widening earth, through grief in thought of what would happen, died. How sad the lot of these--within these open lattices--these weeping ones, these deeply wailing! Born in another state than hers in heaven, how can their grief be borne!" Then speaking to the horse she said, "Thou unjust! what dulness this--to carry off a man, as in the darkness some wicked thief bears off a precious gem. When riding thee in time of battle, swords, and javelins and arrows, none of these alarmed or frighted thee! But now what fitfulness of temper this, to carry off by violence, to rob my soul of one, the choicest jewel of his tribe. O! thou art but a vicious reptile, to do such wickedness as this! to-day thy woeful lamentation sounds everywhere within these palace walls, but when you stole away my cherished one, why wert thou dumb and silent then! if then thy voice had sounded loud, and roused the palace inmates from their sleep, if then they had awoke and slumbered not, there would not have ensued the present sorrow." Kandaka, hearing these sorrowful words, drawing in his breath and composing himself, wiping away his tears, with hands clasped together, answered: "Listen to me, I pray, in self-justification--be not suspicious of, nor blame the royal horse, nor be thou angry with me, either. For in truth no fault has been committed by us. It is the gods who have effected this. For I, indeed, extremely reverenced the king's command, it was the gods who drove him to the solitudes, urgently leading on the horse with him: thus they went together fleet as with wings, his breathing hushed! suppressed was every sound, his feet scarce touched the earth! The city gates wide opening of themselves! all space self-lighted! this was the work indeed of the gods; and what was I, or what my strength, compared with theirs?" Yasodharâ hearing these words, her heart was lost in deep consideration! the deeds accomplished by the gods could not be laid to others' charge, as faults; and so she ceased her angry chiding, and allowed her great consuming grief to smoulder. Thus prostrate on the ground she muttered out her sad complaints, "That the two doves should be divided! Now," she cried, "my stay and my support is lost, between those once agreed in life, separation has sprung up! those who were at one as to religion are now divided! where shall I seek another mode of life? In olden days the former conquerors greatly rejoiced to see their kingly retinue; these with their wives in company, in search of highest wisdom, roamed through groves and plains. And now, that he should have deserted me! and what is the religious state he seeks! the Brahman ritual respecting sacrifice, requires the wife to take part in the offering, and because they both share in the service they shall both receive a common reward hereafter! but you O prince! art niggard in your religious rites, driving me away, and wandering forth alone! Is it that you saw me jealous, and so turned against me! that you now seek someone free from jealousy! or did you see some other cause to hate me, that you now seek to find a heaven-born nymph! But why should one excelling in every personal grace seek to practise self-denying austerities! is it that you despise a common lot with me, that variance rises in your breast against your wife! Why does not Râhula fondly repose upon your knee. Alas! alas! unlucky master! full of grace without, but hard at heart! The glory and the pride of all your tribe, yet hating those who reverence you! O! can it be, you have turned your back for good upon your little child, scarce able yet to smile! My heart is gone! and all my strength! my lord has fled, to wander in the mountains! he cannot surely thus forget me! he is then but a man of wood or stone." Thus having spoken, her mind was dulled and darkened, she muttered on, or spoke in wild mad words, or fancied that she saw strange sights, and sobbing past the power of self-restraint, her breath grew less, and sinking thus, she fell asleep upon the dusty ground! The palace ladies seeing this, were wrung with heartfelt sorrow, just as the full-blown lily, struck by the wind and hail, is broken down and withered. And now the king, his father, having lost the prince, was filled, both night and day, with grief; and fasting, sought the gods for help. He prayed that they would soon restore him, and having prayed and finished sacrifice, he went from out the sacred gates; then hearing all the cries and sounds of mourning, his mind distressed became confused, as when heaven's thundering and lightning put to bewildering flight a herd of elephants. Then seeing Kandaka with the royal steed, after long questioning, finding his son a hermit, fainting he fell upon the earth, as when the flag of Indra falls and breaks. Then all the ministers of state, upraising him, exhort him, as was right, to calm himself. After awhile, his mind somewhat recovered, speaking to the royal steed, he said: "How often have I ridden thee to battle, and every time have thought upon your excellence! but now I hate and loathe thee, more than ever I have loved or praised thee! My son, renowned for noble qualities, thou hast carried off and taken from me; and left him 'mid the mountain forests; and now you have come back alone; take me, then, quickly hence and go! And going, never more come back with me! For since you have not brought him back, my life is worth no more preserving; no longer care I about governing! My son about me was my only joy; as the Brahman Gayanta met death for his son's sake, so I, deprived of my religious son, will of myself deprive myself of life. So Manu, lord of all that lives, ever lamented for his son; how much more I, a mortal man deprived of mine, must lose all rest! In old time the king Aga, loving his son, wandering through the mountains, lost in thought, ended life, and forthwith was born in heaven. And now I cannot die! Through the long night fixed in this sad state, with this great palace round me, thinking of my son, solitary and athirst as any hungry spirit; as one who, thirsty, holding water in his hand, but when he tries to drink lets all escape, and so remains athirst till death ensues, and after death becomes a wandering ghost; so I, in the extremity of thirst, through loss, possessed once of a son, but now without a son, still live and cannot end my days! But come! tell me at once where is my son! let me not die athirst for want of knowing this and fall among the Pretas. In former days, at least, my will was strong and firm, difficult to move as the great earth; but now I've lost my son, my mind is dazed, as was in old time the king Dasaratha's." And now the royal teacher (Purohita), an illustrious sage, with the chief minister, famed for wisdom, with earnest and considerate minds, both exhorted with remonstrances, the king. "Pray you (they said) arouse yourself to thought, and let not grief cramp and hold your mind! in olden days there were mighty kings, who left their country, as flowers are scattered; your son now practises the way of wisdom; why then nurse your grief and misery; you should recall the prophecy of Asita, and reasonably count on what was probable! Think of the heavenly joys which you, a universal king, have inherited! But now, so troubled and constrained in mind, how will it not be said, 'The Lord of earth can change his golden-jewel-heart!' Now, therefore, send us forth, and bid us seek the place he occupies, then by some stratagem and strong remonstrances, and showing him our earnestness of purpose, we will break down his resolution, and thus assuage your kingly sorrow." The king, with joy, replied and said: "Would that you both would go in haste, as swiftly as the Saketa bird flies through the void for her young's sake; thinking of nought but the royal prince, and sad at heart--I shall await your search!" The two men having received their orders, the king retired among his kinsfolk, his heart somewhat more tranquillized, and breathing freely through his throat. The Mission to Seek the Prince The king now suppressing his grief, urged on his great teacher and chief minister, as one urges on with whip a ready horse, to hasten onwards as the rapid stream; whilst they fatigued, yet with unflagging effort, come to the place of the sorrow-giving grove; then laying on one side the five outward marks of dignity and regulating well their outward gestures, they entered the Brahmans' quiet hermitage, and paid reverence to the Rishis. They, on their part, begged them to be seated, and repeated the law for their peace and comfort. Then forthwith they addressed the Rishis and said: "We have on our minds a subject on which we would ask for advice. There is one who is called Suddhodana râga, a descendant of the famous Ikshvâku family, we are his teacher and his minister, who instruct him in the sacred books as required. The king indeed is like Indra for dignity; his son, like Ke-yan-to, in order to escape old age, disease, and death, has become a hermit, and depends on this; on his account have we come hither, with a view to let your worships know of this." Replying, they said: "With respect to this youth, has he long arms and the signs of a great man? Surely he is the one who, inquiring into our practice, discoursed so freely on the matter of life and death. He has gone to the abode of Arâda, to seek for a complete mode of escape." Having received this certain information, respectfully considering the urgent commands of the anxious king, they dared not hesitate in their undertaking, but straightway took the road and hastened on. Then seeing the wood in which the royal prince dwelt, and him, deprived of all outward marks of dignity, his body still glorious with lustrous shining, as when the sun comes forth from the black cloud; then the religious teacher of the country and the great minister holding to the true law, put off from them their courtly dress, and descending from the chariot gradually advanced, like the royal Po-ma-ti and the Rishi Vasishtha, went through the woods and forests, and seeing the royal prince Râma, each according to his own prescribed manner, paid him reverence, as he advanced to salute him; or as Sukra, in company with Angiras, with earnest heart paid reverence, and sacrificed to Indra râga. Then the royal prince in return paid reverence to the royal teacher and the great minister, as the divine Indra placed at their ease Sukra and Angiras; then, at his command, the two men seated themselves before the prince, as Pou-na and Pushya, the twin stars attend beside the moon; then the Purohita and the great minister respectfully explained to the royal prince, even as Pi-li-po-ti spoke to that Gayanta: "Your royal father, thinking of the prince, is pierced in heart, as with an iron point; his mind distracted, raves in solitude; he sleeps upon the dusty ground; by night and day he adds to his sorrowful reflections; his tears flow down like the incessant rain; and now to seek you out, he has sent us hither. Would that you would listen with attentive mind; we know that you delight to act religiously; it is certain, then, without a doubt, this is not the time for you to enter the forest wilds; a feeling of deep pity consumes our heart! You, if you be indeed moved by religion, ought to feel some pity for our case; let your kindly feelings flow abroad, to comfort us who are worn at heart; let not the tide of sorrow and of sadness completely overwhelm the outlets of our heart; as the torrents which roll down the grassy mountains; or the calamities of tempest, fiery heat, and lightning; for so the grieving heart has these four sorrows, turmoil and drought, passion and overthrow. But come! return to your native place, the time will arrive when you can go forth again as a recluse. But now to disregard your family duties, to turn against father and mother, how can this be called love and affection? that love which overshadows and embraces all. Religion requires not the wild solitudes; you can practise a hermit's duties in your home; studiously thoughtful, diligent in expedients, this is to lead a hermit's life in truth. A shaven head, and garments soiled with dirt--to wander by yourself through desert wilds--this is but to encourage constant fears, and cannot be rightly called 'an awakened hermit's life.' Would rather we might take you by the hand, and sprinkle water on your head, and crown you with a heavenly diadem, and place you underneath a flowery canopy, that all eyes might gaze with eagerness upon you; after this, in truth, we would leave our home with joy. The former kings, Teou-lau-ma, A-neou-ke-o-sa, Po-ke-lo-po-yau, Pi-po-lo-'anti, Pi-ti-o-ke-na, Na-lo-sha-po-lo, all these several kings refused not the royal crown, the jewels, and the ornaments of person; their hands and feet were adorned with gems, around them were women to delight and please, these things they cast not from them, for the sake of escape; you then may also come back home, and undertake both necessary duties; your mind prepare itself in higher law, whilst for the sake of earth you wield the sceptre; let there be no more weeping, but comply with what we say, and let us publish it; and having published it with your authority, then you may return and receive respectful welcome. Your father and your mother, for your sake, in grief shed tears like the great ocean; having no stay and no dependence now--no source from which the Sâkya stem may grow--you ought, like the captain of the ship, to bring it safely across to a place of safety. The royal prince Pi-san-ma, as also Lo-me-po-ti, they respectfully attended to the command of their father: you also should do the same! Your loving mother who cherished you so kindly, with no regard for self, through years of care, as the cow deprived of her calf, weeps and laments, forgetting to eat or sleep; you surely ought to return to her at once, to protect her life from evil; as a solitary bird, away from its fellows, or as the lonely elephant, wandering through the jungle, losing the care of their young, ever think of protecting and defending them, so you the only child, young and defenceless, not knowing what you do, bring trouble and solicitude; cause, then, this sorrow to dissipate itself; as one who rescues the moon from being devoured, so do you reassure the men and women of the land, and remove from them the consuming grief, and suppress the sighs that rise like breath to heaven, which cause the darkness that obscures their sight; seeking you, as water, to quench the fire; the fire quenched, their eyes shall open." Bodhisattva, hearing of his father the king, experienced the greatest distress of mind, and sitting still, gave himself to reflection; and then, in due course, replied respectfully: "I know indeed that my royal father is possessed of a loving and deeply considerate mind, but my fear of birth, old age, disease, and death, has led me to disobey, and disregard his extreme kindness. Whoever neglects right consideration about his present life, and because he hopes to escape in the end, therefore disregards all precautions in the present: on this man comes the inevitable doom of death. It is the knowledge of this, therefore, that weighs with me, and after long delay has constrained me to a hermit's life; hearing of my father, the king, and his grief, my heart is affected with increased love; but yet, all is like the fancy of a dream, quickly reverting to nothingness. Know then, without fear of contradiction, that the nature of existing things is not uniform; the cause of sorrow is not necessarily the relationship of child with parent, but that which produces the pain of separation, results from the influence of delusion; as men going along a road suddenly meet midway with others, and then a moment more are separated, each one going his own way, so by the force of concomitance, relationships are framed, and then, according to each one's destiny, there is separation; he who thoroughly investigates this false connection of relationship ought not to cherish in himself grief; in this world there is rupture of family love, in another life it is sought for again; brought together for a moment, again rudely divided, everywhere the fetters of kindred are formed! Ever being bound, and ever being loosened! who can sufficiently lament such constant separations; born into the world, and then gradually changing, constantly separated by death and then born again. All things which exist in time must perish; the forests and mountains, all things that exist; in time are born all sensuous things, so is it both with worldly substance and with time. Because, then, death pervades all time, get rid of death, and time will disappear. You desire to make me king, and it is difficult to resist the offices of love; but as a disease is difficult to bear without medicine, so neither can I bear this weight of dignity; in every condition, high or low, we find folly and ignorance, and men carelessly following the dictates of lustful passion; at last, we come to live in constant fear; thinking anxiously of the outward form, the spirit droops; following the ways of men, the mind resists the right; but, the conduct of the wise is not so. The sumptuously ornamented and splendid palace I look upon as filled with fire; the hundred dainty dishes of the divine kitchen, as mingled with destructive poisons; the lily growing on the tranquil lake, in its midst harbors countless noisome insects; and so the towering abode of the rich is the house of calamity; the wise will not dwell therein. In former times illustrious kings, seeing the many crimes of their home and country, affecting as with poison the dwellers therein, in sorrowful disgust sought comfort in seclusion; we know, therefore, that the troubles of a royal estate are not to be compared with the repose of a religious life; far better dwell in the wild mountains, and eat the herbs like the beasts of the field; therefore I dare not dwell in the wide palace, for the black snake has its dwelling there. I reject the kingly estate and the five desires; to escape such sorrows I wander through the mountain wilds. This, then, would be the consequence of compliance: that I, who, delighting in religion, am gradually getting wisdom, should now quit these quiet woods, and returning home, partake of sensual pleasures, and thus by night and day increase my store of misery. Surely this is not what should be done! that the great leader of an illustrious tribe, having left his home from love of religion, and forever turned his back upon tribal honor, desiring to confirm his purpose as a leader--that he--discarding outward form, clad in religious garb, loving religious meditation, wandering through the wilds--should now reject his hermit vestment, tread down his sense of proper shame and give up his aim. This, though I gained heaven's kingly state, cannot be done! how much less to gain an earthly, though distinguished, home! "For having spewed forth lust, passion, and ignorance, shall I return to feed upon it? as a man might go back to his vomit! such misery, how could I bear? Like a man whose house has caught fire, by some expedient finds a way to escape, will such a man forthwith go back and enter it again? such conduct would disgrace a man! So I, beholding the evils, birth, old age, and death, to escape the misery, have become a hermit; shall I then go back and enter in, and like a fool dwell in their company? He who enjoys a royal estate and yet seeks rescue, cannot dwell thus, this is no place for him; escape is born from quietness and rest; to be a king is to add distress and poison; to seek for rest and yet aspire to royal condition are but contradictions; royalty and rescue, motion and rest, like fire and water, having two principles, cannot be united. So one resolved to seek escape cannot abide possessed of kingly dignity! And if you say a man may be a king, and at the same time prepare deliverance for himself, there is no certainty in this! to seek certain escape is not to risk it thus; it is through this uncertain frame of mind that once a man gone forth is led to go back home again; but I, my mind is not uncertain; severing the baited hook of relationship, with straightforward purpose, I have left my home. Then tell me, why should I return again?" The great minister, inwardly reflecting, thought, "The mind of the royal prince, my master, is full of wisdom, and agreeable to virtue, what he says is reasonable and fitly framed." Then he addressed the prince and said: "According to what your highness states, he who seeks religion must seek it rightly; but this is not the fitting time for you; your royal father, old and of declining years, thinking of you his son, adds grief to grief; you say indeed, 'I find my joy in rescue. To go back would be apostasy.' But yet your joy denotes unwisdom, and argues want of deep reflection; you do not see, because you seek the fruit, how vain to give up present duty. There are some who say, There is 'hereafter'; others there are who say, 'Nothing hereafter.' So whilst this question hangs in suspense, why should a man give up his present pleasure? If perchance there is 'hereafter,' we ought to bear patiently what it brings; if you say, 'Hereafter is not,' then there is not either salvation! If you say, 'Hereafter is,' you would not say, 'Salvation causes it.' As earth is hard, or fire is hot, or water moist, or wind is mobile, 'Hereafter' is just so. It has its own distinct nature. So when we speak of pure and impure, each comes from its own distinctive nature. If you should say, 'By some contrivance this can be removed,' such an opinion argues folly. Every root within the moral world has its own nature predetermined; loving remembrance and forgetfulness, these have their nature fixed and positive; so likewise age, disease, and death, these sorrows, who can escape by strategy? If you say, 'Water can put out fire,' or 'Fire can cause water to boil and pass away,' then this proves only that distinctive natures may be mutually destructive; but nature in harmony produces living things; so man when first conceived within the womb, his hands, his feet, and all his separate members, his spirit and his understanding, of themselves are perfected; but who is he who does it? Who is he that points the prickly thorn? This too is nature, self-controlling. And take again the different kinds of beasts, these are what they are, without desire on their part; and so, again, the heaven-born beings, whom the self-existent (Isvara) rules, and all the world of his creation; these have no self-possessed power of expedients; for if they had a means of causing birth, there would be also means for controlling death, and then what need of self-contrivance, or seeking for deliverance? There are those who say, 'I' (the soul) is the cause of birth, and others who affirm, 'I' (the soul) is the cause of death. There are some who say, 'Birth comes from nothingness, and without any plan of ours we perish.' Thus one is born a fortunate child, removed from poverty, of noble family, or learned in testamentary lore of Rishis, or called to offer mighty sacrifices to the gods, born in either state, untouched by poverty, then their famous name becomes to them 'escape,' their virtues handed down by name to us; yet if these attained their happiness, without contrivance of their own, how vain and fruitless is the toil of those who seek 'escape.' And you, desirous of deliverance, purpose to practise some high expedient, whilst your royal father frets and sighs; for a short while you have essayed the road, and leaving home have wandered through the wilds, to return then would not now be wrong; of old, King Ambarisha for a long while dwelt in the grievous forest, leaving his retinue and all his kinsfolk, but afterwards returned and took the royal office; and so Râma, son of the king of the country, leaving his country occupied the mountains, but hearing he was acting contrary to usage, returned and governed righteously. And so the king of Sha-lo-po, called To-lo-ma, father and son, both wandered forth as hermits, but in the end came back again together; so Po-'sz-tsau Muni, with On-tai-tieh, in the wild mountains practising as Brahmakârins, these too returned to their own country. Thus all these worthies of a by-gone age, famous for their advance in true religion, came back home and royally governed, as lamps enlightening the world. Wherefore for you to leave the mountain wilds, religiously to rule, is not a crime." The royal prince, listening to the great minister's loving words without excess of speaking, full of sound argument, clear and unconfused, with no desire to wrangle after the way of the schools, with fixed purpose, deliberately speaking, thus answered the great minister: "The question of being and not being is an idle one, only adding to the uncertainty of an unstable mind, and to talk of such matters I have no strong inclination; purity of life, wisdom, the practice of asceticism, these are matters to which I earnestly apply myself, the world is full of empty studies which our teachers in their office skilfully involve; but they are without any true principle, and I will none of them! The enlightened man distinguishes truth from falsehood; but how can truth be born from such as those? For they are like the man born blind, leading the blind man as a guide; as in the night, as in thick darkness both wander on, what recovery is there for them? Regarding the question of the pure and impure, the world involved in self-engendered doubt cannot perceive the truth; better to walk along the way of purity, or rather follow the pure law of self-denial, hate the practice of impurity, reflect on what was said of old, not obstinate in one belief or one tradition, with sincere mind accepting all true words, and ever banishing sinful sorrow (i.e. sin, the cause of grief). Words which exceed sincerity are vainly spoken; the wise man uses not such words. As to what you say of Râma and the rest, leaving their home, practising a pure life, and then returning to their country, and once more mixing themselves in sensual pleasures, such men as these walk vainly; those who are wise place no dependence on them. Now, for your sakes, permit me, briefly, to recount this one true principle of action: The sun, the moon may fall to earth, Sumeru and all the snowy mountains overturn, but I will never change my purpose; rather than enter a forbidden place, let me be cast into the fierce fire; not to accomplish rightly what I have entered on, and to return once more to my own land, there to enter the fire of the five desires, let it befall me as my own oath records." So spake the prince, his arguments as pointed as the brightness of the perfect sun; then rising up he passed some distance off. The Purohita and the minister, their words and discourse prevailing nothing, conversed together, after which, resolving to depart on their return, with great respect they quietly inform the prince, not daring to intrude their presence on him further; and yet regarding the king's commands, not willing to return with unbecoming haste. They loitered quietly along the way, and whomsoever they encountered, selecting those who seemed like wise men, they interchanged such thoughts as move the learned, hiding their true position, as men of title; then passing on, they speeded on their way. [Footnote 97: That is, raising his nose to look up at the sun.] [Footnote 98: This description of the prince's hair seems to contradict the head arrangement of the figures of Buddha, unless the curls denote the shaven head of the recluse.] CHAPTER III Bimbisâra Raga Invites the Prince The royal prince, departing from the court-master (i.e. the Purohita) and the great minister, Saddharma, keeping along the stream, then crossing the Ganges, he took the road towards the Vulture Peak,[99] hidden among the five mountains, standing alone a lovely peak as a roof amid the others. The trees and shrubs and flowers in bloom, the flowing fountains, and the cooling rills; all these he gazed upon--then passing on, he entered the city of the five peaks, calm and peaceful, as one come down from heaven. The country folk, seeing the royal prince, his comeliness and his excessive grace, though young in years, yet glorious in his person, incomparable as the appearance of a great master, seeing him thus, strange thoughts affected them, as if they gazed upon the banner of Isvara. They stayed the foot, who passed athwart the path; those hastened on, who were behind; those going before, turned back their heads and gazed with earnest, wistful look. The marks and distinguishing points of his person, on these they fixed their eyes without fatigue, and then approached with reverent homage, joining both their hands in salutation. With all there was a sense of wondrous joy, as in their several ways they offered what they had, looking at his noble and illustrious features; bending down their bodies modestly, correcting every careless or unseemly gesture, thus they showed their reverence to him silently; those who with anxious heart, seeking release, were moved by love, with feelings composed, bowed down the more. Great men and women, in their several engagements, at the same time arrested on their way, paid to his person and his presence homage: and following him as they gazed, they went not back. For the white circle between his eyebrows adorning his wide and violet-colored eyes, his noble body bright as gold, his pure and web-joined fingers, all these, though he were but a hermit, were marks of one who was a holy king; and now the men and women of Râgagriha, the old and young alike, were moved, and cried, "This man so noble as a recluse, what common joy is this for us!" At this time Bimbisâra Râga, placed upon a high tower of observation, seeing all those men and women, in different ways exhibiting one mark of surprise, calling before him some man outside, inquired at once the cause of it; this one bending his knee below the tower, told fully what he had seen and heard, "That one of the Sâkya race, renowned of old, a prince most excellent and wonderful, divinely wise, beyond the way of this world, a fitting king to rule the eight regions, now without home, is here, and all men are paying homage to him." The king on hearing this was deeply moved at heart, and though his body was restrained, his soul had gone. Calling his ministers speedily before him, and all his nobles and attendants, he bade them follow secretly the prince's steps, to observe what charity was given. So, in obedience to the command, they followed and watched him steadfastly, as with even gait and unmoved presence he entered on the town and begged his food, according to the rule of all great hermits, with joyful mien and undisturbed mind, not anxious whether much or little alms were given; whatever he received, costly or poor, he placed within his bowl, then turned back to the wood, and having eaten it and drunk of the flowing stream, he joyous sat upon the immaculate mountain. There he beheld the green trees fringing with their shade the crags, the scented flowers growing between the intervals, whilst the peacocks and the other birds, joyously flying, mingled their notes; his sacred garments bright and lustrous, shone as the sun-lit mulberry leaves; the messengers beholding his fixed composure, one by one returning, reported what they had seen; the king hearing it, was moved at heart, and forthwith ordered his royal equipment to be brought, his god-like crown and his flower-bespangled robes; then, as the lion-king, he strode forth, and choosing certain aged persons of consideration, learned men, able calmly and wisely to discriminate, he, with them, led the way, followed by a hundred thousand people, who like a cloud ascended with the king the royal mountain. And now beholding the dignity of Bodhisattva, every outward gesture under government, sitting with ease upon the mountain crag, as the moon shining limpid in the pure heavens, so was his matchless beauty and purity of grace; then as the converting presence of religion dwelling within the heart makes it reverential, so, beholding him, he reverently approached, even as divine Sâkara comes to the presence of Mo-hi-su-ma, so with every outward form of courtesy and reverence the king approached and asked him respectfully of his welfare. Bodhisattva, answering as he was moved, in his turn made similar inquiries. Then the king, the questioning over, sat down with dignity upon a clean-faced rock. And so he steadfastly beheld the divine appearance of the prince, the sweetness and complacency of his features revealing what his station was and high estate, his family renown, received by inheritance; the king, who for a time restrained his feelings, now wishful to get rid of doubts, inquired why one descended from the royal family of the sun-brightness having attended to religious sacrifices through ten thousand generations, whereof the virtue had descended as his full inheritance, increasing and accumulating until now, why he so excellent in wisdom, so young in years, had now become a recluse, rejecting the position of a Kakravartin's son, begging his food, despising family fame, his beauteous form, fit for perfumes and anointings, why clothed with coarse Kasâya garments; the hand which ought to grasp the reins of empire, instead thereof, taking its little stint of food; if indeed (the king continued) you were not of royal descent, and would receive as an offering the transfer of this land, then would I divide with you my empire; saying this, he scarcely hoped to excite his feelings, who had left his home and family, to be a hermit. Then forthwith the king proceeded thus: "Give just weight I pray you to my truthful words: desire for power is kin to nobleness, and so is just pride of fame or family or wealth or personal appearance; no longer having any wish to subdue the proud, or to bend others down and so get thanks from men, it were better, then, to give to the strong and warlike martial arms to wear, for them to follow war and by their power to get supremacy; but when by one's own power a kingdom falls to hand, who would not then accept the reins of empire? The wise man knows the time to take religion, wealth, and worldly pleasure. But if he obtains not the threefold profit, then in the end he abates his earnest efforts, and reverencing religion, he lets go material wealth. Wealth is the one desire of worldly men; to be rich and lose all desire for religion, this is to gain but outside wealth. But to be poor and even thus despise religion, what pleasure can indulgence give in such a case! But when possessed of all the three, and when enjoyed with reason and propriety, then religion, wealth, and pleasure make what is rightly called a great master; permit not, then, your perfectly endowed body to lay aside its glory, without reward; the Kakravartin, as a monarch, ruled the four empires of the world, and shared with Sakra his royal throne, but was unequal to the task of ruling heaven. But you, with your redoubtable strength, may well grasp both heavenly and human power; I do not rely upon my kingly power, in my desire to keep you here by force, but seeing you change your comeliness of person, and wearing the hermit's garb, whilst it makes me reverence you for your virtue, moves me with pity and regret for you as a man; you now go begging your food, and I offer you the whole land as yours; whilst you are young and lusty enjoy yourself. During middle life acquire wealth, and when old and all your abilities ripened, then is the time for following the rules of religion; when young to encourage religious fervor, is to destroy the sources of desire; but when old and the breath is less eager, then is the time to seek religious solitude; when old we should avoid, as a shame, desire of wealth, but get honor in the world by a religious life; but when young, and the heart light and elastic, then is the time to partake of pleasure, in boon companionship to indulge in gayety, and partake to the full of mutual intercourse; but as years creep on, giving up indulgence, to observe the ordinances of religion, to mortify the five desires, and go on increasing a joyful and religious heart, is not this the law of the eminent kings of old, who as a great company paid worship to heaven, and borne on the dragon's back received the joys of celestial abodes? All these divine and victorious monarchs, glorious in person, richly adorned, thus having as a company performed their religious offering, in the end received the reward of their conduct in heaven." Thus Bimbasâra Râga used every kind of winning expedient in argument The royal prince, unmoved and fixed, remained firm as Mount Sumeru. The Reply to Bimbasâra Râga Bimbasâra Râga, having, in a decorous manner, and with soothing speech, made his request, the prince on his part respectfully replied, in the following words, deep and heart-stirring: "Illustrious and world-renowned! Your words are not opposed to reason, descendant of a distinguished family--an Aryan--amongst men a true friend indeed, righteous and sincere to the bottom of your heart, it is proper for religion's sake to speak thus. In all the world, in its different sections, there is no chartered place for solid virtue, for if virtue flags and folly rules, what reverence can there be, or honor paid, to a high name or boast of prowess, inherited from former generations! And so there may be in the midst of great distress, large goodness, these are not mutually opposed. This then is so with the world in the connection of true worth and friendship. A true friend who makes good use of wealth--is rightly called a fast and firm treasure, but he who guards and stints the profit he has made, his wealth will soon be spent and lost; the wealth of a country is no constant treasure, but that which is given in charity is rich in returns, therefore charity is a true friend: although it scatters, yet it brings no repentance; you indeed are known as liberal and kind, I make no reply in opposition to you, but simply as we meet, so with agreeable purpose we talk. I fear birth, old age, disease, and death, and so I seek to find a sure mode of deliverance; I have put away thought of relatives and family affection, how is it possible then for me to return to the world and not to fear to revive the poisonous snake, and after the hail to be burned in the fierce fire; indeed, I fear the objects of these several desires, this whirling in the stream of life troubles my heart, these five desires, the inconstant thieves--stealing from men their choicest treasures, making them unreal, false, and fickle--are like the man called up as an apparition; for a time the beholders are affected by it, but it has no lasting hold upon the mind; so these five desires are the great obstacles, forever disarranging the way of peace; if the joys of heaven are not worth having, how much less the desires common to men, begetting the thirst of wild love, and then lost in the enjoyment, as the fierce wind fans the fire, till the fuel be spent and the fire expires; of all unrighteous things in the world, there is nothing worse than the domain of the five desires; for all men maddened by the power of lust, giving themselves to pleasure, are dead to reason. The wise man fears these desires, he fears to fall into the way of unrighteousness; for like a king who rules all within the four seas, yet still seeks beyond for something more, so is lust; like the unbounded ocean, it knows not when and where to stop. Mandha, the Kakravartin, when the heavens rained yellow gold, and he ruled all within the seas, yet sighed after the domain of the thirty-three heavens; dividing with Sakra his seat, and so through the power of this lust he died; Nung-Sha, whilst practising austerities, got power to rule the thirty-three heavenly abodes, but from lust he became proud and supercilious; the Rishi whilst stepping into his chariot, through carelessness in his gait, fell down into the midst of the serpent pit. Yen-lo, the universal monarch (Kakravartin), wandering abroad through the Trayastrimsas heaven, took a heavenly woman (Apsara) for a queen, and unjustly extorted the gold of a Rishi; the Rishi, in anger, added a charm, by which the country was ruined, and his life ended. Po-lo, and Sakra king of Devas, and Nung-Sha returning to Sakra; what certainty is there, even for the lord of heaven? Neither is any country safe, though kept by the mighty strength of those dwelling in it. But when one's clothing consists of grass, the berries one's food, the rivulets one's drink, with long hair flowing to the ground, silent as a Muni, seeking nothing, in this way practising austerities, in the end lust shall be destroyed. Know then, that the province of the five desires is avowedly an enemy of the religious man. Even the one-thousand-armed invincible king, strong in his might, finds it hard to conquer this. The Rishi Râma perished because of lust; how much more ought I, the son of a Kshatriya, to restrain lustful desire; but indulge in lust a little, and like the child it grows apace, the wise man hates it therefore; who would take poison for food? every sorrow is increased and cherished by the offices of lust. If there is no lustful desire, the risings of sorrow are not produced, the wise man seeing the bitterness of sorrow, stamps out and destroys the risings of desire; that which the world calls virtue, is but another form of this baneful law; worldly men enjoying the pleasure of covetous desire then every form of careless conduct results; these careless ways producing hurt, at death, the subject of them reaps perdition. But by the diligent use of means, and careful continuance therein, the consequences of negligence are avoided, we should therefore dread the non-use of means; recollecting that all things are illusory, the wise man covets them not; he who desires such things, desires sorrow, and then goes on again ensnared in love, with no certainty of ultimate freedom; he advances still and ever adds grief to grief, like one holding a lighted torch burns his hand, and therefore the wise man enters on no such things. The foolish man and the one who doubts, still encouraging the covetous and burning heart, in the end receives accumulated sorrow, not to be remedied by any prospect of rest; covetousness and anger are as the serpent's poison; the wise man casts away the approach of sorrow as a rotten bone; he tastes it not nor touches it, lest it should corrupt his teeth, that which the wise man will not take, the king will go through fire and water to obtain, the wicked sons labor for wealth as for a piece of putrid flesh, o'er which the hungry flocks of birds contend. So should we regard riches; the wise man is ill pleased at having wealth stored up, the mind wild with anxious thoughts, guarding himself by night and day, as a man who fears some powerful enemy, like as a man's feelings revolt with disgust at the sights seen beneath the slaughter post of the East Market; so the high post which marks the presence of lust, and anger, and ignorance, the wise man always avoids; as those who enter the mountains or the seas have much to contend with and little rest, as the fruit which grows on a high tree, and is grasped at by the covetous at the risk of life, so is the region of covetous desire, though they see the difficulty of getting it, yet how painfully do men scheme after wealth, difficult to acquire, easy to dissipate, as that which is got in a dream: how can the wise man hoard up such trash! Like covering over with a false surface a hole full of fire, slipping through which the body is burnt, so is the fire of covetous desire. The wise man meddles not with it. Like that Kaurava, or Pih-se-ni Nanda, or Ni-k'he-lai Danta, as some butcher's appearance, such also is the appearance of lustful desire; the wise man will have nothing to do with it; he would rather throw his body into the water or fire, or cast himself down over a steep precipice. Seeking to obtain heavenly pleasures, what is this but to remove the place of sorrow, without profit. Sün-tau, Po-sun-tau, brothers of Asura, lived together in great affection, but on account of lustful desire slew one another, and their name perished; all this then comes from lust; it is this which makes a man vile, and lashes and goads him with piercing sorrow; lust debases a man, robs him of all hope, whilst through the long night his body and soul are worn out; like the stag that covets the power of speech and dies, or the winged bird that covets sensual pleasure, or the fish that covets the baited hook, such are the calamities that lust brings; considering what are the requirements of life, none of these possess permanency; we eat to appease the pain of hunger, to do away with thirst we drink, we clothe ourselves to keep out the cold and wind, we lie down to rest to get sleep, to procure locomotion we seek a carriage, when we would halt we seek a seat, we wash to cleanse ourselves from dirt; all these things are done to avoid inconvenience; we may gather therefore that these five desires have no permanent character; for as a man suffering from fever seeks and asks for some cooling medicine, so covetousness seeks for something to satisfy its longings; foolish men regard these things as permanent, and as the necessary requirements of life, but, in sooth, there is no permanent cessation of sorrow; for by coveting to appease these desires we really increase them; there is no character of permanency therefore about them. To be filled and clothed are no lasting pleasures, time passes, and the sorrow recurs; summer is cool during the moon-tide shining; winter comes and cold increases; and so through all the eightfold laws of the world they possess no marks of permanence, sorrow and joy cannot agree together, as a person slave-governed loses his renown. But religion causes all things to be of service, as a king reigning in his sovereignty; so religion controls sorrow, as one fits on a burden according to power of endurance. Whatever our condition in the world, still sorrows accumulate around us. Even in the condition of a king, how does pain multiply, though bound to others by love, yet this is a cause of grief; without friends and living alone, what joy can there be in this? Though a man rules over the four kingdoms, yet only one part can be enjoyed; to be concerned in ten thousand matters, what profit is there in this, for we only accumulate anxieties. Put an end to sorrow, then, by appeasing desire, refrain from busy work, this is rest. A king enjoys his sensual pleasures; deprived of kingship there is the joy of rest; in both cases there are pleasures but of different kinds; why then be a king! Make then no plan or crafty expedient, to lead me back to the five desires; what my heart prays for, is some quiet place and freedom; but you desire to entangle me in relationships and duties, and destroy the completion of what I seek; I am in no fear of family hatred, nor do I seek the joys of heaven; my heart hankers after no vulgar profit, so I have put away my royal diadem; and contrary to your way of thinking, I prefer, henceforth, no more to rule. A hare rescued from the serpent's mouth, would it go back again to be devoured? holding a torch and burning himself, would not a man let it go? A man blind and recovering his sight, would he again seek to be in darkness? the rich, does he sigh for poverty? the wise, does he long to be ignorant? Has the world such men as these? then will I again enjoy my country. But I desire to get rid of birth, old age, and death, with body restrained, to beg my food; with appetites moderated, to keep in my retreat; and then to avoid the evil modes of a future life, this is to find peace in two worlds: now then I pray you pity me not. Pity, rather, those who rule as kings! their souls ever vacant and athirst, in the present world no repose, hereafter receiving pain as their meed. You, who possess a distinguished family name, and the reverence due to a great master, would generously share your dignity with me, your worldly pleasures and amusements; I, too, in return, for your sake, beseech you to share my reward with me; he who indulges in the threefold kinds of pleasure, this man the world calls 'Lord,' but this is not according to reason either, because these things cannot be retained, but where there is no birth, or life, or death, he who exercises himself in this way, is Lord indeed! You say that while young a man should be gay, and when old then religious, but I regard the feebleness of age as bringing with it loss of power to be religious, unlike the firmness and power of youth, the will determined and the heart established; but death as a robber with a drawn sword follows us all, desiring to catch his prey; how then should we wait for old age, ere we bring our mind to a religious life? Inconstancy is the great hunter, age his bow, disease his arrows, in the fields of life and death he hunts for living things as for the deer; when he can get his opportunity, he takes our life; who then would wait for age? And what the teachers say and do, with reference to matters connected with life and death, exhorting the young, mature, or middle-aged, all to contrive by any means, to prepare vast meetings for sacrifices, this they do indeed of their own ignorance; better far to reverence the true law, and put an end to sacrifice to appease the gods! Destroying life to gain religious merit, what love can such a man possess? even if the reward of such sacrifices were lasting, even for this, slaughter would be unseemly; how much more, when the reward is transient! Shall we, in search of this, slay that which lives, in worship? this is like those who practise wisdom, and the way of religious abstraction, but neglect the rules of moral conduct. It ill behooves us then to follow with the world, and attend these sacrificial assemblies, and seek some present good in killing that which lives; the wise avoid destroying life! Much less do they engage in general sacrifices, for the purpose of gaining future reward! the fruit promised in the three worlds is none of mine to choose for happiness! All these are governed by transient, fickle laws, like the wind, or the drop that is blown from the grass; such things therefore I put away from me, and I seek for true escape. I hear there is one O-lo-lam who eloquently discourses on the way of escape; I must go to the place where he dwells, that great Rishi and hermit. But in truth, sorrow must be banished; I regret indeed leaving you; may your country have repose and quiet! safely defended by you as by the divine Sakra râga! May wisdom be shed abroad as light upon your empire, like the brightness of the meridian sun! may you be exceedingly victorious as lord of the great earth, with a perfect heart ruling over its destiny! May you direct and defend its sons! ruling your empire in righteousness! Water and snow and fire are opposed to one another, but the fire by its influence causes vapor, the vapor causes the floating clouds, the floating clouds drop down rain; there are birds in space, who drink the rain, with rainless bodies.[100] Slaughter and peaceful homes are enemies! those who would have peace hate slaughter, and if those who slaughter are so hateful, then put an end, O king, to those who practise it! And bid these find release, as those who drink and yet are parched with thirst." Then the king, clasping together his hands, with greatest reverence and joyful heart, said, "That which you now seek, may you obtain quickly the fruit thereof; having obtained the perfect fruit, return I pray and graciously receive me!" Bodhisattva, his heart inwardly acquiescing, purposing to accomplish his prayer, departing, pursued his road, going to the place where Ârâda Kâlâma dwelt; whilst the king with all his retinue, their hands clasped, themselves followed a little space, then with thoughtful and mindful heart, returned once more to Râgagriha! Visit to Ârâda Udrarâma The child of the glorious sun of the Ikshvâku race, going to that quiet peaceful grove, reverently stood before the Muni, the great Rishi Ârâda Râma; the dark-clad followers of the Kalam (Sanghârâma) seeing afar-off Bodhisattva approaching, with loud voice raised a joyful chant, and with suppressed breath muttered "Welcome," as with clasped hands they reverenced him. Approaching one another, they made mutual inquiries; and this being done, with the usual apologies, according to their precedence in age they sat down; the Brahmakârins observing the prince, beheld his personal beauty and carefully considered his appearance; respectfully they satisfied themselves of his high qualities, like those who, thirsty, drink the "pure dew." Then with raised hands they addressed the prince: "Have you been long an ascetic, divided from your family and broken from the bonds of love, like the elephant who has cast off restraint? Full of wisdom, completely enlightened, you seem well able to escape the poisonous fruit of this world. In old time the monarch Ming Shing gave up his kingly estate to his son, as a man who has carried a flowery wreath, when withered casts it away: but such is not your case, full of youthful vigor, and yet not enamoured with the condition of a holy king; we see that your will is strong and fixed, capable of becoming a vessel of the true law, able to embark in the boat of wisdom, and to cross over the sea of life and death. The common class, enticed to come to learn, their talents first are tested, then they are taught; but as I understand your case, your mind is already fixed and your will firm; and now you have undertaken the purpose of learning, I am persuaded you will not in the end shrink from it." The prince hearing this exhortation, with gladness made reply: "You have with equal intention, illustrious! cautioned me with impartial mind; with humble heart I accept the advice, and pray that it may be so with me as you anticipate; that I may in my night-journey obtain a torch, to guide me safely through treacherous places; a handy boat to cross over the sea;--may it be so even now with me! But as I am somewhat in doubt and anxious to learn, I will venture to make known my doubts, and ask, with respect to old age, disease, and death, how are these things to be escaped?" At this time O-lo-lam hearing the question asked by the prince, briefly from the various Sutras and Sâstras quoted passages in explanation of a way of deliverance. "But thou," he said, "illustrious youth! so highly gifted, and eminent among the wise! hear what I have to say, as I discourse upon the mode of ending birth and death; nature, and change, birth, old age, and death, these five attributes belong to all; nature is (in itself) pure and without fault; the involution of this with the five elements, causes an awakening and power of perception, which, according to its exercise, is the cause of change; form, sound, order, taste, touch, these are called the five objects of sense; as the hand and foot are called the two ways, so these are called the roots of action (the five skandhas); the eye, the ear, the nose, the tongue, the body, these are named the roots (instruments) of understanding. The root of mind (manas) is twofold, being both material, and also intelligent; nature by its involutions is the cause, the knower of the cause is I (the soul); Kapila the Rishi and his numerous followers, on this deep principle of soul, practising wisdom (Buddhi), found deliverance. Kapila and now Vâkaspati, by the power of Buddhi perceiving the character of birth, old age, and death, declare that on this is founded true philosophy; whilst all opposed to this, they say, is false. Ignorance and passion, causing constant transmigration, abiding in the midst of these (they say) is the lot of all that lives. Doubting the truth of soul is called excessive doubt, and without distinguishing aright, there can be no method of escape. Deep speculation as to the limits of perception is but to involve the soul; thus unbelief leads to confusion, and ends in differences of thought and conduct. Again, the various speculations on soul, such as 'I say,' 'I know and perceive,' 'I come' and 'I go,' or 'I remain fixed,' these are called the intricacies of soul. And then the fancies raised in different natures, some saying 'this is so,' others denying it, and this condition of uncertainty is called the state of darkness. Then there are those who say that outward things are one with soul, who say that the objective is the same as mind, who confuse intelligence with instruments, who say that number is the soul. Thus not distinguishing aright, these are called excessive quibbles, marks of folly, nature changes, and so on. To worship and recite religious books, to slaughter living things in sacrifice, to render pure by fire and water, and thus awake the thought of final rescue, all these ways of thinking are called without right expedient, the result of ignorance and doubt, by means of word or thought or deed; involving outward relationships, this is called depending on means; making the material world the ground of soul, this is called depending on the senses. By these eight sorts of speculation are we involved in birth and death. The foolish masters of the world make their classifications in these five ways: Darkness, folly, and great folly, angry passion, with timid fear. Indolent coldness is called darkness; birth and death are called folly; lustful desire is great folly; because of great men subjected to error, cherishing angry feelings, passion results; trepidation of the heart is called fear. Thus these foolish men dilate upon the five desires; but the root of the great sorrow of birth and death, the life destined to be spent in the five ways, the cause of the whirl of life, I clearly perceive, is to be placed in the existence of 'I'; because of the influence of this cause, result the consequences of repeated birth and death; this cause is without any nature of its own, and its fruits have no nature; rightly considering what has been said, there are four matters which have to do with escape, kindling wisdom--opposed to dark ignorance--making manifest--opposed to concealment and obscurity--if these four matters be understood, then we may escape birth, old age, and death. Birth, old age, and death being over, then we attain a final place; the Brahmans all depending on this principle, practising themselves in a pure life, have also largely dilated on it, for the good of the world." The prince hearing these words again inquired of Ârâda: "Tell me what are the expedients you name, and what is the final place to which they lead, and what is the character of that pure Brahman life; and again what are the stated periods during which such life must be practised, and during which such life is lawful; all these are principles to be inquired into; and on them I pray you discourse for my sake." Then that Ârâda, according to the Sutras and Sâstras, spoke: "Yourself using wisdom is the expedient; but I will further dilate on this a little; first by removing from the crowd and leading a hermit's life, depending entirely on alms for food, extensively practising rules of decorum, religiously adhering to right rules of conduct; desiring little and knowing when to abstain, receiving whatever is given in food, whether pleasant or otherwise, delighting to practise a quiet life, diligently studying all the Sûtras and Sâstras; observing the character of covetous longing and fear, without remnant of desire to live in purity, to govern well the organs of life, the mind quieted and silently at rest; removing desire, and hating vice, all the sorrows of life put away, then there is happiness; and we obtain the enjoyment of the first dhyâna.[101] Having obtained this first dhyâna, then with the illumination thus obtained, by inward meditation is born reliance on thought alone, and the entanglements of folly are put away; the mind depending on this, then after death, born in the Brahma heavens, the enlightened are able to know themselves; by the use of means is produced further inward illumination; diligently persevering, seeking higher advance, accomplishing the second dhyâna, tasting of that great joy, we are born in the Kwong-yin heaven; then by the use of means putting away this delight, practising the third dhyâna, resting in such delight and wishing no further excellence, there is a birth in the Subhakritsna heaven; leaving the thought of such delight, straightway we reach the fourth dhyâna, all joys and sorrows done away, the thought of escape produced; we dwell in this fourth dhyâna, and are born in the Vrihat-phala heaven; because of its long enduring years, it is thus called Vrihat-phala (extensive-fruit); whilst in that state of abstraction rising higher, perceiving there is a place beyond any bodily condition, adding still and persevering further in practising wisdom, rejecting this fourth dhyâna, firmly resolved to persevere in the search, still contriving to put away every desire after form, gradually from every pore of the body there is perceived a feeling of empty release, and in the end this extends to every solid part, so that the whole is perfected in an apprehension of emptiness. In brief, perceiving no limits to this emptiness, there is opened to the view boundless knowledge. Endowed with inward rest and peace, the idea of 'I' departs, and the object of 'I'--clearly discriminating the non-existence of matter, this is the condition of immaterial life. As the Muñga (grass) when freed from its horny case, or as the wild bird which escapes from its prison trap, so, getting away from all material limitations, we thus find perfect release. Thus ascending above the Brahmans, deprived of every vestige of bodily existence, we still endure. Endued with wisdom! let it be known this is real and true deliverance. You ask what are the expedients for obtaining this escape; even as I have before detailed, those who have deep faith will learn. The Rishis Gaigîshavya, Ganaka, Vriddha Parâsara, and other searchers after truth, all by the way I have explained, have reached true deliverance." The prince hearing these words, deeply pondering on the outline of these principles, and reaching back to the influences produced by our former lives, again asked with further words: "I have heard your very excellent system of wisdom, the principles very subtle and deep-reaching, from which I learn that because of not 'letting go' (by knowledge as a cause), we do not reach the end of the religious life; but by understanding nature in its involutions, then, you say, we obtain deliverance; I perceive this law of birth has also concealed in it another law as a germ; you say that the 'I' (i.e. the soul of Kapila) being rendered pure, forthwith there is true deliverance; but if we encounter a union of cause and effect, then there is a return to the trammels of birth; just as the germ in the seed, when earth, fire, water, and wind seem to have destroyed in it the principle of life, meeting with favorable concomitant circumstances will yet revive, without any evident cause, but because of desire; so those who have gained this supposed release, likewise keeping the idea of 'I' and living things, have in fact gained no final deliverance; in every condition, letting go the three classes and again reaching the three excellent qualities, because of the eternal existence of soul, by the subtle influences of that (influences resulting from the past), the heart lets go the idea of expedients, and obtains an almost endless duration of years. This, you say, is true release; you say 'letting go the ground on which the idea of soul rests,' that this frees us from 'limited existence,' and that the mass of people have not yet removed the idea of soul, and are therefore still in bondage. But what is this letting go gunas (cords fettering the soul); if one is fettered by these gunas, how can there be release? For gunî (the object) and guna (the quality) in idea are different, but in substance one; if you say that you can remove the properties of a thing and leave the thing by arguing it to the end, this is not so. If you remove heat from fire, then there is no such thing as fire, or if you remove surface from body, what body can remain? Thus guna is as it were surface, remove this and there can be no gunî. So that this deliverance, spoken of before, must leave a body yet in bonds. Again, you say that by clear knowledge you get rid of body; there is then such a thing as knowledge or the contrary; if you affirm the existence of clear knowledge, then there should be someone who possesses it (i.e. possesses this knowledge); if there be a possesor, how can there be deliverance from this personal 'I'? If you say there is no 'knower,' then who is it that is spoken of as 'knowing'? If there is knowledge and no person, then the subject of knowledge may be a stone or a log; moreover, to have clear knowledge of these minute causes of contamination and reject them thoroughly, these being so rejected, there must be an end, then, of the 'doer.' What Ârâda has declared cannot satisfy my heart. This clear knowledge is not universal wisdom, I must go on and seek a better explanation." Going on then to the place of Udra Rishi, he also expatiated on this question of "I." But although he refined the matter to the utmost, laying down a term of "thought" and "no thought" taking the position of removing "thought" and "no thought," yet even so he came not out of the mire; for supposing creatures attained that state, still (he said) there is a possibility of returning to the coil, whilst Bodhisattva sought a method of getting out of it. So once more leaving Udra Rishi, he went on in search of a better system, and came at last to Mount Kia-ke (the forest of mortification), where was a town called Pain-suffering forest. Here the five Bhikshus had gone before. When then he beheld these five, virtuously keeping in check their senses, holding to the rules of moral conduct, practising mortification, dwelling in that grove of mortification; occupying a spot beside the Nairañgana river, perfectly composed and filled with contentment, Bodhisattva forthwith by them selecting one spot, quietly gave himself to thought. The five Bhikshus knowing him with earnest heart to be seeking escape, offered him their services with devotion, as if reverencing Isvara Deva. Having finished their attentions and dutiful services, then going on he took his seat not far off, as one about to enter on a course of religious practice, composing all his members as he desired. Bodhisattva diligently applied himself to "means," as one about to cross over old age, disease, and death. With full purpose of heart he set himself to endure mortification, to restrain every bodily passion, and give up thought about sustenance, with purity of heart to observe the fast-rules, which no worldly man can bear; silent and still, lost in thoughtful meditation; and so for six years he continued, each day eating one hemp grain, his bodily form shrunken and attenuated, seeking how to cross the sea of birth and death, exercising himself still deeper and advancing further; making his way perfect by the disentanglements of true wisdom, not eating, and yet not looking to that as a cause of emancipation, his four members although exceedingly weak, his heart of wisdom increasing yet more and more in light; his spirit free, his body light and refined, his name spreading far and wide, as "highly gifted," even as the moon when first produced, or as the Kumuda flower spreading out its sweetness. Everywhere through the country his excellent fame extended; the daughters of the lord of the place both coming to see him, his mortified body like a withered branch, just completing the period of six years, fearing the sorrow of birth and death, seeking earnestly the method of true wisdom, he came to the conviction that these were not the means to extinguish desire and produce ecstatic contemplation; nor yet the means by which in former time, seated underneath the Gambu tree, he arrived at that miraculous condition, that surely was the proper way, he thought, the way opposed to this of "withered body." "I should therefore rather seek strength of body, by drink and food refresh my members, and with contentment cause my mind to rest. My mind at rest, I shall enjoy silent composure; composure is the trap for getting ecstasy (dhyâna); while in ecstasy perceiving the true law, then the force of truth obtained, disentanglement will follow. And thus composed, enjoying perfect quiet, old age and death are put away; and then defilement is escaped by this first means; thus then by equal steps the excellent law results from life restored by food and drink." Having carefully considered this principle, bathing in the Nairañgana river, he desired afterwards to leave the water, but owing to extreme exhaustion was unable to rise; then a heavenly spirit holding out a branch, taking this in his hand he raised himself and came forth. At this time on the opposite side of the grove there was a certain chief herdsman, whose eldest daughter was called Nandâ. One of the Suddhavâsa Devas addressing her said, "Bodhisattva dwells in the grove, go you then, and present to him a religious offering." Nandâ Balada (or Balaga or Baladhya) with joy came to the spot, above her hands (i.e. on her wrists) white chalcedony bracelets, her clothing of a gray color; the gray and the white together contrasted in the light, as the colors of the rounded river bubble; with simple heart and quickened step she came, and, bowing down at Bodhisattva's feet, she reverently offered him perfumed rice milk, begging him of his condescension to accept it. Bodhisattva taking it, partook of it at once, whilst she received, even then, the fruits of her religious act. Having eaten it, all his members refreshed, he became capable of receiving Bodhi; his body and limbs glistening with renewed strength, and his energies swelling higher still, as the hundred streams swell the sea, or the first quartered moon daily increases in brightness. The five Bhikshus having witnessed this, perturbed, were filled with suspicious reflection; they supposed that his religious zeal was flagging, and that he was leaving and looking for a better abode, as though he had obtained deliverance, the five elements entirely removed. Bodhisattva wandered on alone, directing his course to that "fortunate" tree,[102] beneath whose shade he might accomplish his search after complete enlightenment. Over the ground wide and level, producing soft and pliant grass, easily he advanced with lion step, pace by pace, whilst the earth shook withal; and as it shook, Kâla nâga aroused, was filled with joy, as his eyes were opened to the light. Forthwith he exclaimed: "When formerly I saw the Buddhas of old, there was the sign of an earthquake as now; the virtues of a Muni are so great in majesty, that the great earth cannot endure them; as step by step his foot treads upon the ground, so is there heard the sound of the rumbling earth-shaking; a brilliant light now illumes the world, as the shining of the rising sun; five hundred bluish-tinted birds I see, wheeling round to the right, flying through space; a gentle, soft, and cooling breeze blows around in an agreeable way; all these auspicious signs are the same as those of former Buddhas; wherefore I know that this Bodhisattva will certainly arrive at perfect wisdom. And now, behold! from yonder man, a grass cutter, he obtains some pure and pliant grass, which spreading out beneath the tree, with upright body, there he takes his seat; his feet placed under him, not carelessly arranged, moving to and fro, but like the firmly fixed and compact body of a Nâga; nor shall he rise again from off his seat till he has completed his undertaking." And so he (the Nâga) uttered these words by way of confirmation. The heavenly Nâgas, filled with joy, caused a cool refreshing breeze to rise; the trees and grass were yet unmoved by it, and all the beasts, quiet and silent, looked on in wonderment. These are the signs that Bodhisattva will certainly attain enlightenment. Defeats Mara The great Rishi, of the royal tribe of Rishis, beneath the Bodhi tree firmly established, resolved by oath to perfect the way of complete deliverance. The spirits, Nâgas, and the heavenly multitude, all were filled with joy; but Mâra Devarâga, enemy of religion, alone was grieved, and rejoiced not; lord of the five desires, skilled in all the arts of warfare, the foe of those who seek deliverance, therefore his name is rightly given Pisuna. Now this Mâra râga had three daughters, mincingly beautiful and of a pleasant countenance, in every way fit by artful ways to inflame a man with love, highest in this respect among the Devis. The first was named Yuh-yen, the second Neng-yueh-gin, the third Ngai-loh. These three, at this time, advanced together, and addressed their father Pisuna and said: "May we not know the trouble that afflicts you?" The father, calming his feelings, addressed his daughters thus: "The world has now a great Muni, he has taken a strong oath as a helmet, he holds a mighty bow in his hand, wisdom is the diamond shaft he uses. His object is to get the mastery in the world, to ruin and destroy my territory; I am myself unequal to him, for all men will believe in him, and all find refuge in the way of his salvation; then will my land be desert and unoccupied. But as when a man transgresses the laws of morality, his body is then empty. So now, the eye of wisdom, not yet opened in this man, whilst my empire still has peace, I will go and overturn his purpose, and break down and divide the ridge-pole of his house." Seizing then his bow and his five arrows, with all his retinue of male and female attendants, he went to that grove of "fortunate rest" with the vow that the world should not find peace. Then seeing the Muni, quiet and still, preparing to cross the sea of the three worlds, in his left hand grasping his bow, with his right hand pointing his arrow, he addressed Bodhisattva and said: "Kshatriya! rise up quickly! for you may well fear! your death is at hand; you may practise your own religious system, but let go this effort after the law of deliverance for others; wage warfare in the field of charity as a cause of merit, appease the tumultuous world, and so in the end reach your reward in heaven. This is a way renowned and well established, in which former saints have walked, Rishis and kings and men of eminence; but this system of penury and alms-begging is unworthy of you. Now then if you rise not, you had best consider with yourself, that if you give not up your vow, and tempt me to let fly an arrow, how that Aila, grandchild of Soma, by one of these arrows just touched, as by a fanning of the wind, lost his reason and became a madman. And how the Rishi Vimala, practising austerities, hearing the sound of one of these darts, his heart possessed by great fear, bewildered and darkened he lost his true nature; how much less can you--a late-born one--hope to escape this dart of mine. Quickly arise then! if hardly you may get away! This arrow full of rankling poison, fearfully insidious where it strikes a foe! See now! with all my force, I point it! and are you resting in the face of such calamity? How is it that you fear not this dread arrow? say! why do you not tremble?" Mâra uttered such fear-inspiring threats, bent on overawing Bodhisattva. But Bodhisattva's heart remained unmoved; no doubt, no fear was present. Then Mâra instantly discharged his arrow, whilst the three women came in front. Bodhisattva regarded not the arrow, nor considered aught the women three. Mâra râga now was troubled much with doubt, and muttered thus 'twixt heart and mouth: "Long since the maiden of the snowy mountains, shooting at Mahesvara, constrained him to change his mind; and yet Bodhisattva is unmoved, and heeds not even this dart of mine, nor the three heavenly women! nought prevails to move his heart or raise one spark of love within him. Now must I assemble my army-host, and press him sore by force;" having thought thus awhile, Mâra's army suddenly assembled round. Each assumed his own peculiar form; some were holding spears, others grasping swords, others snatching up trees, others wielding diamond maces; armed with every sort of weapon. Some had heads like hogs, others like fishes, others like asses, others like horses; some with forms like snakes or like the ox or savage tiger; lion-headed, dragon-headed, and like every other kind of beast. Some had many heads on one body-trunk, with faces having but a single eye, and then again with many eyes; some with great-bellied mighty bodies. And others thin and skinny, belly-less; others long-legged, mighty-kneed; others big-shanked and fat-calved; some with long and claw-like nails. Some were headless, breastless, faceless; some with two feet and many bodies; some with big faces looking every way; some pale and ashy-colored; others colored like the bright star rising, others steaming fiery vapor, some with ears like elephants, with humps like mountains, some with naked forms covered with hair. Some with leather skins for clothing, their faces parti-colored, crimson, and white; some with tiger skins as robes, some with snake skins over them, some with tinkling bells around their waists, others with twisted screw-like hair, others with hair dishevelled covering the body, some breath-suckers, others body-snatchers, some dancing and shrieking awhile, some jumping onwards with their feet together, some striking one another as they went. Others waving in the air, others flying and leaping between the trees, others howling, or hooting, or screaming, or whining, with their evil noises shaking the great earth; thus this wicked goblin troop encircled on its four sides the Bodhi tree; some bent on tearing his body to pieces, others on devouring it whole; from the four sides flames belched forth, and fiery steam ascended up to heaven; tempestuous winds arose on every side; the mountain forests shook and quaked. Wind, fire, and steam, with dust combined, produced a pitchy darkness, rendering all invisible. And now the Devas well affected to the law, and all the Nâgas and the spirits, all incensed at this host of Mâra, with anger fired, wept tears of blood; the great company of Suddhavâsa gods, beholding Mâra tempting Bodhisattva, free from low-feeling, with hearts undisturbed by passion, moved by pity towards him and commiseration, came in a body to behold the Bodhisattva, so calmly seated and so undisturbed, surrounded with an uncounted host of devils, shaking the heaven and earth with sounds ill-omened. Bodhisattva silent and quiet in the midst remained, his countenance as bright as heretofore, unchanged; like the great lion-king placed amongst all the beasts howling and growling round him so he sat, a sight unseen before, so strange and wonderful! The host of Mâra hastening, as arranged, each one exerting his utmost force, taking each other's place in turns, threatening every moment to destroy him. Fiercely staring, grinning with their teeth, flying tumultuously, bounding here and there; but Bodhisattva, silently beholding them, watched them as one would watch the games of children. And now the demon host waxed fiercer and more angry, and added force to force, in further conflict; grasping at stones they could not lift, or lifting them, they could not let them go. Their flying spears, lances, and javelins, stuck fast in space, refusing to descend; the angry thunderdrops and mighty hail, with these, were changed into five-colored lotus flowers, whilst the foul poison of the dragon snakes was turned to spicy-breathing air. Thus all these countless sorts of creatures, wishing to destroy the Bodhisattva, unable to remove him from the spot, were with their own weapons wounded. Now Mâra had an aunt-attendant whose name was Ma-kia-ka-li, who held a skull-dish in her hands, and stood in front of Bodhisattva, and with every kind of winsome gesture, tempted to lust the Bodhisattva. So all these followers of Mâra, possessed of every demon-body form, united in discordant uproar, hoping to terrify Bodhisattva; but not a hair of his was moved, and Mâra's host was filled with sorrow. Then in the air the crowd of angels, their forms invisible, raised their voices, saying: "Behold the great Muni; his mind unmoved by any feeling of resentment, whilst all that wicked Mâra race, besotted, are vainly bent on his destruction; let go your foul and murderous thoughts against that silent Muni, calmly seated! You cannot with a breath move the Sumeru mountain. Fire may freeze, water may burn, the roughened earth may grow soft and pliant, but ye cannot hurt the Bodhisattva! Through ages past disciplined by suffering. Bodhisattva rightly trained in thought, ever advancing in the use of 'means,' pure and illustrious for wisdom, loving and merciful to all. These four conspicuous virtues cannot with him be rent asunder, so as to make it hard or doubtful whether he gain the highest wisdom. For as the thousand rays of yonder sun must drown the darkness of the world, or as the boring wood must kindle fire, or as the earth deep-dug gives water, so he who perseveres in the 'right means,' by seeking thus, will find. The world without instruction, poisoned by lust and hate and ignorance; because he pitied 'flesh,' so circumstanced, he sought on their account the joy of wisdom. Why then would you molest and hinder one who seeks to banish sorrow from the world? The ignorance that everywhere prevails is due to false pernicious books, and therefore Bodhisattva, walking uprightly, would lead and draw men after him. To obscure and blind the great world-leader, this undertaking is impossible, for 'tis as though in the Great Desert a man would purposely mislead the merchant-guide. So 'all flesh' having fallen into darkness, ignorant of where they are going, for their sakes he would light the lamp of wisdom; say then! why would you extinguish it? All flesh engulfed and overwhelmed in the great sea of birth and death, this one prepares the boat of wisdom; say then! why destroy and sink it? Patience is the sprouting of religion, firmness its root, good conduct is the flower, the enlightened heart the boughs and branches. Wisdom supreme the entire tree, the 'transcendent law' the fruit, its shade protects all living things; say then! why would you cut it down? Lust, hate, and ignorance, are the rack and bolt, the yoke placed on the shoulder of the world; through ages long he has practised austerities to rescue men from these their fetters. He now shall certainly attain his end, sitting on this right-established throne; as all the previous Buddhas, firm and compact like a diamond. Though all the earth were moved and shaken, yet would this place be fixed and stable; him, thus fixed and well assured, think not that you can overturn. Bring down and moderate your mind's desire, banish these high and envious thoughts, prepare yourselves for right reflection, be patient in your services." Mâra hearing these sounds in space, and seeing Bodhisattva still unmoved, filled with fear and banishing his high and supercilious thoughts, again took up his way to heaven above. Whilst all his host were scattered, o'erwhelmed with grief and disappointment, fallen from their high estate, bereft of their warrior pride, their warlike weapons and accoutrements thrown heedlessly and cast away 'mid woods and deserts. Like as when some cruel chieftain slain, the hateful band is all dispersed and scattered, so the host of Mara disconcerted, fled away. The mind of Bodhisattva now reposed peaceful and quiet. The morning sunbeams brighten with the dawn, the dust-like mist dispersing, disappears; the moon and stars pale their faint light, the barriers of the night are all removed, whilst from above a fall of heavenly flowers pay their sweet tribute to the Bodhisattva. O-wei-san-pou-ti (Abhisambodhi) Bodhisattva having subdued Mâra, his firmly fixed mind at rest, thoroughly exhausting the first principle of truth, he entered into deep and subtle contemplation. Every kind of Sâmadhi in order passed before his eyes. During the first watch he entered on "right perception" and in recollection all former births passed before his eyes. Born in such a place, of such a name, and downwards to his present birth, so through hundreds, thousands, myriads, all his births and deaths he knew. Countless in number were they, of every kind and sort; then knowing, too, his family relationships, great pity rose within his heart. This sense of deep compassion passed, he once again considered "all that lives," and how they moved within the six portions of life's revolution, no final term to birth and death; hollow all, and false and transient as the plantain tree, or as a dream, or phantasy. Then in the middle watch of night, he reached to knowledge of the pure Devas, and beheld before him every creature, as one sees images upon a mirror; all creatures born and born again to die, noble and mean, the poor and rich, reaping the fruit of right or evil doing, and sharing happiness or misery in consequence. First he considered and distinguished evil-doers' works, that such must ever reap an evil birth. Then he considered those who practise righteous deeds, that these must gain a place with men or gods; but those again born in the nether hells, he saw participating in every kind of misery; swallowing molten brass, the iron skewers piercing their bodies, confined within the boiling caldron, driven and made to enter the fiery oven dwelling, food for hungry, long-toothed dogs, or preyed upon by brain-devouring birds; dismayed by fire, then they wander through thick woods, with leaves like razors gashing their limbs, while knives divide their writhing bodies, or hatchets lop their members, bit by bit; drinking the bitterest poisons, their fate yet holds them back from death. Thus those who found their joy in evil deeds, he saw receiving now their direst sorrow; a momentary taste of pleasure here, a dreary length of suffering there. A laugh or joke because of others' pain, a crying out and weeping now at punishment received. Surely if living creatures saw the consequence of all their evil deeds, self-visited, with hatred would they turn and leave them, fearing the ruin following--the blood and death. He saw, moreover, all the fruits of birth as beasts, each deed entailing its own return; and when death ensues born in some other form (beast shape), different in kind according to the deeds. Some doomed to die for the sake of skin or flesh, some for their horns or hair or bones or wings; others torn or killed in mutual conflict, friend or relative before, contending thus; some burdened with loads or dragging heavy weights, others pierced and urged on by pricking goads. Blood flowing down their tortured forms, parched and hungry--no relief afforded; then, turning round, he saw one with the other struggling, possessed of no independent strength. Flying through air or sunk in deep water, yet no place as a refuge left from death. He saw, moreover, those, misers and covetous, born now as hungry ghosts; vast bodies like the towering mountain, with mouths as small as any needle-tube, hungry and thirsty, nought but fire and poisoned flame to enwrap their burning forms within. Covetous, they would not give to those who sought, or duped the man who gave in charity, now born among the famished ghosts, they seek for food, but cannot find withal. The refuse of the unclean man they fain would eat, but this is changed and lost before it can be eaten. Oh! if a man believes that covetousness is thus repaid, as in their case, would he not give his very flesh in charity even as Sivi râga did! Then, once more he saw, those reborn as men, with bodies like some foul sewer, ever moving 'midst the direst sufferings, born from the womb to fear and trembling, with body tender, touching anything its feelings painful, as if cut with knives. Whilst born in this condition, no moment free from chance of death, labor, and sorrow, yet seeking birth again, and being born again, enduring pain. Then he saw those who by a higher merit were enjoying heaven; a thirst for love ever consuming them, their merit ended with the end of life, the five signs warning them of death. Just as the blossom that decays, withering away, is robbed of all its shining tints; not all their associates, living still, though grieving, can avail to save the rest. The palaces and joyous precincts empty now, the Devis all alone and desolate, sitting or asleep upon the dusty earth, weep bitterly in recollection of their loves. Those who are born, sad in decay; those who are dead, belovéd, cause of grief; thus ever struggling on, preparing future pain, covetous they seek the joys of heaven, obtaining which, these sorrows come apace; despicable joys! oh, who would covet them! using such mighty efforts to obtain, and yet unable thence to banish pain. Alas, alas! these Devas, too, alike deceived--no difference is there! through lapse of ages bearing suffering, striving to crush desire and lust, now certainly expecting long reprieve, and yet once more destined to fall! in hell enduring every kind of pain, as beasts tearing and killing one the other, as Pretas parched with direst thirst, as men worn out, seeking enjoyment; although, they say, when born in heaven, "then we shall escape these greater ills." Deceived, alas! no single place exempt, in every birth incessant pain! Alas! the sea of birth and death revolving thus--an ever-whirling wheel--all flesh immersed within its waves cast here and there without reliance! thus with his pure Deva eyes he thoughtfully considered the five domains of life. He saw that all was empty and vain alike! with no dependence! like the plantain or the bubble. Then, on the third eventful watch, he entered on the deep, true apprehension; he meditated on the entire world of creatures, whirling in life's tangle, born to sorrow; the crowds who live, grow old, and die, innumerable for multitude. Covetous, lustful, ignorant, darkly-fettered, with no way known for final rescue. Rightly considering, inwardly he reflected from what source birth and death proceed. He was assured that age and death must come from birth as from a source. For since a man has born with him a body, that body must inherit pain. Then looking further whence comes birth, he saw it came from life-deeds done elsewhere; then with his Deva-eyes scanning these deeds, he saw they were not framed by Isvara. They were not self-caused, they were not personal existences, nor were they either uncaused; then, as one who breaks the first bamboo joint finds all the rest easy to separate, having discerned the cause of birth and death, he gradually came to see the truth; deeds come from upâdâna, like as fire which catches hold of grass; upâdâna comes from trishnâ, just as a little fire inflames the mountains; trishnâ comes from vedanâ, the perception of pain and pleasure, the desire for rest; as the starving or the thirsty man seeks food and drink, so "sensation" brings "desire" for life; then contact is the cause of all sensation, producing the three kinds of pain or pleasure, even as by art of man the rubbing wood produces fire for any use or purpose; contact is born from the six entrances.[103] The six entrances are caused by name and thing, just as the germ grows to the stem and leaf; name and thing are born from knowledge, as the seed which germinates and brings forth leaves. Knowledge, in turn, proceeds from name and thing, the two are intervolved leaving no remnant; by some concurrent cause knowledge engenders name and thing, whilst by some other cause concurrent, name and thing engender knowledge. Just as a man and ship advance together, the water and the land mutually involved; thus knowledge brings forth name and thing; name and thing produce the roots. The roots engender contact; contact again brings forth sensation; sensation brings forth longing desire; longing desire produces upâdâna. Upâdâna is the cause of deeds; and these again engender birth; birth again produces age and death; so does this one incessant round cause the existence of all living things. Rightly illumined, thoroughly perceiving this, firmly established, thus was he enlightened; destroy birth, old age and death will cease; destroy bhava then will birth cease; destroy "cleaving" then will bhava end; destroy desire then will cleaving end; destroy sensation then will trishnâ end. Destroy contact then will end sensation; destroy the six entrances, then will contact cease; the six entrances all destroyed, from this, moreover, names and things will cease. Knowledge destroyed, names and things will cease; names and things destroyed, then knowledge perishes; ignorance destroyed, then the constituents of individual life will die; the great Rishi was thus perfected in wisdom. Thus perfected, Buddha then devised for the world's benefit the eightfold path, right sight, and so on, the only true path for the world to tread. Thus did he complete the end of "self," as fire goes out for want of grass; thus he had done what he would have men do; he first had found the way of perfect knowledge. He finished thus the first great lesson; entering the great Rishi's house (dreamless sleep), the darkness disappeared; light coming on, perfectly silent, all at rest, he reached at last the exhaustless source of truth; lustrous with all wisdom the great Rishi sat, perfect in gifts, whilst one convulsive throe shook the wide earth. And now the world was calm again and bright, when Devas, Nâgas, spirits, all assembled, amidst the void raise heavenly music, and make their offerings as the law directs. A gentle cooling breeze sprang up around, and from the sky a fragrant rain distilled; exquisite flowers, not seasonable, bloomed; sweet fruits before their time were ripened. Great Mandâras, and every sort of heavenly precious flower, from space in rich confusion fell, as tribute to the illustrious monk. Creatures of every different kind were moved one towards the other lovingly; fear and terror altogether put away, none entertained a hateful thought, and all things living in the world with faultless men consorted freely; the Devas giving up their heavenly joys, sought rather to alleviate the sinner's sufferings. Pain and distress grew less and less, the moon of wisdom waxed apace; whilst all the Rishis of the Ikshvâku clan who had received a heavenly birth, beholding Buddha thus benefitting men, were filled with joy and satisfaction; and whilst throughout the heavenly mansions religious offerings fell as raining flowers, the Devas and the Nâga spirits, with one voice, praised the Buddha's virtues; men seeing the religious offerings, hearing, too, the joyous hymn of praise, were all rejoiced in turn; they leapt for unrestrained joy; Mâra, the Devarâga, only, felt in his heart great anguish. Buddha for those seven days, in contemplation lost, his heart at peace, beheld and pondered on the Bodhi tree, with gaze unmoved and never wearying:--"Now resting here, in this condition, I have obtained," he said, "my ever-shifting heart's desire, and now at rest I stand, escaped from self." The eyes of Buddha then considered "all that lives," and forthwith rose there in him deep compassion; much he desired to bring about their welfare, but how to gain for them that most excellent deliverance, from covetous desire, hatred, ignorance, and false teaching, this was the question; how to suppress this sinful heart by right direction; not by anxious use of outward means, but by resting quietly in thoughtful silence. Now looking back and thinking of his mighty vow, there rose once more within his mind a wish to preach the law; and looking carefully throughout the world, he saw how pain and sorrow ripened and increased everywhere. Then Brahma-deva knowing his thoughts, and considering it right to request him to advance religion for the wider spread of the Brahma-glory, in the deliverance of all flesh from sorrow, coming, beheld upon the person of the reverend monk all the distinguishing marks of a great preacher, visible in an excellent degree; fixed and unmoved he sat in the possession of truth and wisdom, free from all evil impediments, with a heart cleansed from all insincerity or falsehood. Then with reverent and a joyful heart, great Brahma stood and with hands joined, thus made known his request:--"What happiness in all the world so great as when a loving master meets the unwise; the world with all its occupants, filled with impurity and dire confusion, with heavy grief oppressed, or, in some cases, lighter sorrows, waits deliverance; the lord of men, having escaped by crossing the wide and mournful sea of birth and death, we now entreat to rescue others--those struggling creatures all engulfed therein; as the just worldly man, when he gets profit, gives some rebate withal. So the lord of men enjoying such religious gain, should also give somewhat to living things. The world indeed is bent on large personal gain, and hard it is to share one's own with others. O! let your loving heart be moved with pity towards the world burdened with vexing cares." Thus having spoken by way of exhortation, with reverent mien he turned back to the Brahma heaven. Buddha, regarding the invitation of Brahma-deva, rejoiced at heart, and his design was strengthened; greatly was his heart of pity nourished, and purposed was his mind to preach. Thinking he ought to beg some food, each of the four kings offered him a Pâtra; Tathâgata, in fealty to religion, received the four and joined them all in one. And now some merchant men were passing by, to whom "a virtuous friend," a heavenly spirit, said: "The great Rishi, the venerable monk, is dwelling in this mountain-grove, affording in the world a noble field for merit; go then and offer him a sacrifice!" Hearing the summons, joyfully they went, and offered the first meal religiously. Having partaken of it, then he deeply pondered, who first should hear the law; he thought at once of Ârâda Kâlâma and Udraka Râmaputra, as being fit to accept the righteous law; but now they both were dead. Then next he thought of the five men, that they were fit to hear the first sermon. Bent then on this design to preach Nirvâna, as the sun's glory bursts through the darkness, so went he on towards Benares, the place where dwelt the ancient Rishis. With eyes as gentle as the ox king's, his pace as firm and even as the lion's, because he would convert the world he went on towards the Kâsi city. Step by step, like the king of beasts, did he advance watchfully through the grove of wisdom. Turning the Law-wheel Tathâgata piously composed and silent, radiant with glory, shedding light around, with unmatched dignity advanced alone, as if surrounded by a crowd of followers. Beside the way he encountered a young Brahman whose name was Upâka; struck with the deportment of the Bhikshu, he stood with reverent mien on the roadside. Joyously he gazed at such an unprecedented sight, and then, with closed hands, he spake as follows:--"The crowds who live around are stained with sin, without a pleasing feature, void of grace, and the great world's heart is everywhere disturbed; but you alone, your senses all composed, with visage shining as the moon when full, seem to have quaffed the water of the immortals' stream. The marks of beauty yours, as the great man's, the strength of wisdom, as an all-sufficient, independent king's; what you have done must have been wisely done: what then your noble tribe and who your master?" Answering he said, "I have no master; no honorable tribe; no point of excellence; self-taught in this profoundest doctrine, I have arrived at superhuman wisdom. That which behooves the world to learn, but through the world no learner found, I now myself and by myself have learned throughout; 'tis rightly called Sambodhi. That hateful family of griefs the sword of wisdom has destroyed; this then is what the world has named, and rightly named, the 'chiefest victory.' Through all Benares soon will sound the drum of life, no stay is possible--I have no name--nor do I seek profit or pleasure. But simply to declare the truth; to save men from pain, and to fulfil my ancient oath, to rescue all not yet delivered. The fruit of this my oath is ripened now, and I will follow out my ancient vow. Wealth, riches, self all given up, unnamed, I still am named 'Righteous Master.' And bringing profit to the world, I also have the name 'Great Teacher'; facing sorrows, not swallowed up by them, am I not rightly called 'Courageous Warrior?' If not a healer of diseases, what means the name of 'Good Physician?' Seeing the wanderer, not showing him the way, why then should I be called 'Good Master-guide?' Like as the lamp shines in the dark, without a purpose of its own, self-radiant, so burns the lamp of the Tathâgata, without the shadow of a personal feeling. Bore wood in wood, there must be fire; the wind blows of its own free self in space; dig deep and you will come to water; this is the rule of self-causation. All the Munis who perfect wisdom, must do so at Gayâ; and in the Kâsi country they must first turn the Wheel of Righteousness." The young Brahman Upâka, astonished, breathed the praise of such strange doctrine, and called to mind like thoughts he had before experienced; lost in thought at the wonderful occurrence, at every turning of the road he stopped to think; embarrassed in every step he took, Tathâgata proceeding slowly onwards, came to the city of Kâsi. The land so excellently adorned as the palace of Sakradevendra; the Ganges and Baranâ, two twin rivers flowed amidst; the woods and flowers and fruits so verdant, the peaceful cattle wandering together, the calm retreats free from vulgar noise, such was the place where the old Rishis dwelt. Tathâgata, glorious and radiant, redoubled the brightness of the place; the son of the Kaundinya tribe, and next Dasabalakâsyapa, and the third Vâshpa, the fourth Asvagit, the fifth called Bhadra, practising austerities as hermits, seeing from far Tathâgata approaching, sitting together all engaged in conversation, said: "This Gautama, defiled by worldly indulgence, leaving the practice of austerities, now comes again to find us here, let us be careful not to rise in salutation, nor let us greet him when he comes, nor offer him the customary refreshments. Because he has broken his first vow, he has no claim to hospitality"--for men on seeing an approaching guest by rights prepare things for his present and his after wants. They arrange a proper resting-couch, and take on themselves care for his comfort. Having spoken thus and so agreed, each kept his seat, resolved and fixed. And now Tathâgata slowly approached, when, lo! these men unconsciously, against their vow, rose and invited him to take a seat; offering to take his robe and Pâtra. They begged to wash and rub his feet, and asked him what he required more; thus in everything attentive, they honored him and offered all to him as teacher. They did not cease however to address him still as Gautama, after his family. Then spake the Lord to them and said: "Call me not after my private name, for it is a rude and careless way of speaking to one who has obtained Arhat-ship; but whether men respect or disrespect me, my mind is undisturbed and wholly quiet. But you--your way is not so courteous: let go, I pray, and cast away your fault. Buddha can save the world; they call him, therefore, Buddha. Towards all living things, with equal heart he looks as children, to call him then by his familiar name is to despise a father; this is sin." Thus Buddha, by exercise of mighty love, in deep compassion spoke to them; but they, from ignorance and pride, despised the only wise and true one's words. They said that first he practised self-denial, but having reached thereby no profit, now giving rein to body, word, and thought, how by these means, they asked, has he become a Buddha? Thus equally entangled by doubts, they would not credit that he had attained the way. Thoroughly versed in highest truth, full of all-embracing wisdom, Tagâgata on their account briefly declared to them the one true way; the foolish masters practising austerities, and those who love to gratify their senses, he pointed out to them these two distinctive classes, and how both greatly erred. "Neither of these," he said, "has found the way of highest wisdom, nor are their ways of life productive of true rescue. The emaciated devotee by suffering produces in himself confused and sickly thoughts, not conducive even to worldly knowledge, how much less to triumph over sense! For he who tries to light a lamp with water, will not succeed in scattering the darkness, and so the man who tries with worn-out body to trim the lamp of wisdom shall not succeed, nor yet destroy his ignorance or folly. Who seeks with rotten wood to evoke the fire will waste his labor and get nothing for it; but boring hard wood into hard, the man of skill forthwith gets fire for his use. In seeking wisdom then it is not by these austerities a man may reach the law of life. But to indulge in pleasure is opposed to right: this is the fool's barrier against wisdom's light. The sensualist cannot comprehend the Sûtras or the Sâstras, how much less the way of overcoming all desire! As some man grievously afflicted eats food not fit to eat, and so in ignorance aggravates his sickness, so can he get rid of lust who pampers lust? Scatter the fire amid the desert grass, dried by the sun, fanned by the wind--the raging flames who shall extinguish? Such is the fire of covetousness and lust. I, then, reject both these extremes: my heart keeps in the middle way. All sorrow at an end and finished, I rest at peace, all error put away; my true sight greater than the glory of the sun, my equal and unvarying wisdom, vehicle of insight--right words as it were a dwelling-place--wandering through the pleasant groves of right conduct, making a right life my recreation, walking along the right road of proper means, my city of refuge in right recollection, and my sleeping couch right meditation; these are the eight even and level roads by which to avoid the sorrows of birth and death. Those who come forth by these means from the slough, doing thus, have attained the end; such shall fall neither on this side or the other, amidst the sorrow-crowd of the two periods. The tangled sorrow-web of the three worlds by this road alone can be destroyed; this is my own way, unheard of before; by the pure eyes of the true law, impartially seeing the way of escape, I, only I, now first make known this way; thus I destroy the hateful company of Trishnâ's host, the sorrows of birth and death, old age, disease, and all the unfruitful aims of men, and other springs of suffering. There are those who warring against desire are still influenced by desire; who whilst possessed of body, act as though they had none; who put away from themselves all sources of true merit--briefly will I recount their sorrowful lot. Like smothering a raging fire, though carefully put out, yet a spark left, so in their abstraction, still the germ of 'I,' the source of great sorrow still surviving, perpetuates the suffering caused by lust, and the evil consequences of every kind of deed survive. These are the sources of further pain, but let these go and sorrow dies, even as the seed of corn taken from the earth and deprived of water dies; the concurrent causes not uniting, then the bud and leaf cannot be born; the intricate bonds of every kind of existence, from the Deva down to the evil ways of birth, ever revolve and never cease; all this is produced from covetous desire; falling from a high estate to lower ones, all is the fault of previous deeds. But destroy the seed of covetousness and the rest, then there will be no intricate binding, but all effect of deeds destroyed, the various degrees of sorrow then will end for good. Having this, then, we must inherit that; destroying this, then that is ended too; no birth, old age, disease, or death; no earth, or water, fire, or wind. No beginning, end, or middle; and no deceptive systems of philosophy; this is the standpoint of wise men and sages; the certain and exhausted termination, complete Nirvâna. Such do the eight right ways declare; this one expedient has no remains; that which the world sees not, engrossed by error I declare, I know the way to sever all these sorrow-sources; the way to end them is by right reason, meditating on these four highest truths, following and perfecting this highest wisdom. This is what means the 'knowing' sorrow; this is to cut off the cause of all remains of being; these destroyed, then all striving, too, has ended, the eight right ways have been assayed. "Thus, too, the four great truths have been acquired, the eyes of the pure law completed. In these four truths, the equal, true or right, eyes not yet born, there is not mention made of gaining true deliverance; it is not said what must be done is done, nor that all is finished, nor that the perfect truth has been acquired. But now because the truth is known, then by myself is known 'deliverance gained,' by myself is known that 'all is done,' by myself is known 'the highest wisdom.'" And having spoken thus respecting truth, the member of the Kaundinya family, and eighty thousand of the Deva host, were thoroughly imbued with saving knowledge. They put away defilement from themselves, they got the eyes of the pure law; Devas and earthly masters thus were sure, that what was to be done was done. And now with lion-voice he joyfully inquired, and asked Kaundinya, "Knowest thou yet?" Kaundinya forthwith answered Buddha, "I know the mighty master's law." And for this reason, knowing it, his name was Âgnâta Kaundinya. Amongst all the disciples of Buddha, he was the very first in understanding. Then as he understood the sounds of the true law, hearing the words of the disciple--all the earth spirits together raised a shout triumphant, "Well done! deeply seeing the principles of the law, Tathâgata, on this auspicious day, has set revolving that which never yet revolved, and far and wide, for gods and men, has opened the gates of immortality. Of this wheel the spokes are the rules of pure conduct; equal contemplation, their uniformity of length; firm wisdom is the tire; modesty and thoughtfulness, the rubbers (sockets in the nave in which the axle is fixed); right reflection is the nave; the wheel itself the law of perfect truth; the right truth now has gone forth in the world, not to retire before another teacher." Thus the earth spirits shouted, the spirits of the air took up the strain, the Devas all joined in the hymn of praise, up to the highest Brahma heaven. The Devas of the triple world, now hearing what the great Rishi taught, in intercourse together spoke, "The widely honored Buddha moves the world! Widespread, for the sake of all that lives, he turns the wheel of the law of complete purity!" The stormy winds, the clouds, the mists, all disappeared; down from space the heavenly flowers descended. The Devas revelled in their joys celestial, filled with unutterable gladness. [Footnote 99: The distance from the place of the interview with the ministers to the Vulture Peak would be, in a straight line, about 150 miles.] [Footnote 100: The sense of the text and context appears to be this, that as there are those who drink the rain-clouds and yet are parched with thirst, so there are those who constantly practise religious duties and yet are still unblest.] [Footnote 101: The dhyânas are the conditions of ecstasy, enjoyed by the inhabitants of the Brahmaloka heavens.] [Footnote 102: The "fortunate tree," the tree "of good omen," the Bodhi tree.] [Footnote 103: The six organs of sense.] CHAPTER IV Bimbisâra Râga Becomes a Disciple And now those five men, Asvagit Vâshpa, and the others, having heard that he (Kaundinya) "knew" the law, with humble mien and self-subdued, their hands joined, offered their homage, and looked with reverence in the teacher's face. Tathâgata, by wise expedient, caused them one by one to embrace the law. And so from first to last the five Bhikshus obtained reason and subdued their senses, like the five stars which shine in heaven, waiting upon the brightening moon. At this time in the town of Ku-i there was a noble's son called Yasas; lost in night-sleep suddenly he woke, and when he saw his attendants all, men and women, with ill-clad bodies, sleeping, his heart was filled with loathing; reflecting on the root of sorrow, he thought how madly foolish men were immersed in it. Clothing himself, and putting on his jewels, he left his home and wandered forth; then on the way he stood and cried aloud, "Alas! alas! what endless chain of sorrows." Tathâgata, by night, was walking forth, and hearing sounds like these, "Alas! what sorrow," forthwith replied, "You are welcome! here, on the other hand, there is a place of rest--the most excellent, refreshing, Nirvâna, quiet and unmoved, free from sorrow." Yasas hearing Buddha's exhortation, there rose much joy within his heart. And in the place of the disgust he felt, the cooling streams of holy wisdom found their way, as when one enters first a cold pellucid lake. Advancing then, he came where Buddha was--his person decked with common ornaments, his mind already freed from all defects; by power of the good root obtained in other births, he quickly reached the fruit of an Arhat. The secret light of pure wisdom's virtue enabled him to understand, on listening to the law; just as a pure silken fabric with ease is dyed a different color. Thus having attained to self-illumination, and done that which was to be done, he was converted; then looking at his person richly ornamented, his heart was filled with shame. Tathâgata knowing his inward thoughts, in gâthas spoke the following words: "Though ornamented with jewels, the heart may yet have conquered sense; looking with equal mind on all that lives, in such a case the outward form does not affect religion; the body, too, may wear the ascetic's garb, the heart, meanwhile, be immersed in worldly thoughts; dwelling in lonely woods, yet covetous of worldly show, such men are after all mere worldlings; the body may have a worldly guise, the heart mount high to things celestial. The layman and the hermit are the same, when only both have banished thought of 'self,' but if the heart be twined with carnal bonds, what use the marks of bodily attention? He who wears martial decorations, does so because by valor he has triumphed o'er an enemy--so he who wears the hermit's colored robe, does so for having vanquished sorrow as his foe." Then he bade him come, and be a member of his church; and at the bidding, lo! his garments changed! and he stood wholly attired in hermit's dress, complete; in heart and outward look, a Sramana. Now Yasas had in former days some light companions, in number fifty and four; when these beheld their friend a hermit, they, too, one by one, attained true wisdom. By virtue of deeds done in former births, these deeds now bore their perfect fruit. Just as when burning ashes are sprinkled by water, the water being dried, the flame bursts forth. So now, with those above, the disciples were altogether sixty, all Arhats; entirely obedient and instructed in the law of perfect discipleship. So perfected he taught them further:--"Now ye have passed the stream and reached 'the other shore,' across the sea of birth and death; what should be done, ye now have done! and ye may now receive the charity of others. Go then through every country, convert those not yet converted; throughout the world that lies burnt up with sorrow, teach everywhere; instruct those lacking right instruction. Go, therefore! each one travelling by himself; filled with compassion, go! rescue and receive. I too will go alone, back to yonder Kia-ke mountain; where there are great Rishis, royal Rishis, Brahman Rishis too, these all dwell there, influencing men according to their schools. The Rishi Kâsyapa, enduring pain, reverenced by all the country, making converts too of many, him will I visit and convert." Then the sixty Bhikshus respectfully receiving orders to preach, each according to his fore-determined purpose, following his inclination, went through every land. The honored of the world went on alone, till he arrived at the Kia-ke mountain, then entering a retired religious dell, he came to where the Rishi Kâsyapa was. Now this one had a "fire grot" where he offered sacrifice, where an evil Nâga dwelt, who wandered here and there in search of rest, through mountains and wild places of the earth. The honored of the world, wishing to instruct this hermit and convert him, asked him, on coming, for a place to lodge that night. Kâsyapa, replying, spake to Buddha thus:--"I have no resting-place to offer for the night, only this fire grot where I sacrifice; this is a cool and fit place for the purpose, but an evil dragon dwells there, who is accustomed, as he can, to poison men." Buddha replied, "Permit me only, and for the night I'll take my dwelling there." Kâsyapa made many difficulties, but the world-honored one still asked the favor. Then Kâsyapa addressed Buddha, "My mind desires no controversy, only I have my fears and apprehensions, but follow you your own good pleasure." Buddha forthwith stepped within the fiery grot, and took his seat with dignity and deep reflection; and now the evil Nâga seeing Buddha, belched forth in rage his fiery poison, and filled the place with burning vapor. But this could not affect the form of Buddha. Throughout the abode the fire consumed itself, the honored of the world still sat composed: Even as Brahma, in the midst of the kalpa-fire that burns and reaches to the Brahma heavens, still sits unmoved, without a thought of fear or apprehension, so Buddha sat; the evil Nâga seeing him, his face glowing with peace, and still unchanged, ceased his poisonous blast, his heart appeased; he bent his head and worshipped. Kâsyapa in the night seeing the fire-glow, sighed:--"Ah! alas! what misery! this most distinguished man is also burnt up by the fiery Nâga." Then Kâsyapa and his followers at morning light came one and all to look. Now Buddha having subdued the evil Nâga, had straightway placed him in his pâtra, beholding which, and seeing the power of Buddha, Kâsyapa conceived within him deep and secret thoughts:--"This Gotama," he thought, "is deeply versed in religion, but still he said, 'I am a master of religion.'" Then Buddha, as occasion offered, displayed all kinds of spiritual changes, influencing Kâsyapa's heart-thoughts, changing and subduing them, making his mind pliant and yielding, until at length prepared to be a vessel of the true law, he confessed that his poor wisdom could not compare with the complete wisdom of the world-honored one. And so, convinced at last, humbly submitting, he accepted right instruction. Thus U-pi-lo Uravilva Kâsyapa, and five hundred of his followers following their master, virtuously submissive, in turn received the teaching of the law. Kâsyapa and all his followers were thus entirely converted. The Rishi then, taking his goods and all his sacrificial vessels, threw them together in the river, which floated down upon the surface of the current. Nadi and Gada, brothers, who dwelt down the stream, seeing these articles of clothing and the rest floating along the stream disorderly, said, "Some great change has happened," and deeply pained, were restlessly concerned. The two, each with five hundred followers, going up the stream to seek their brother. Seeing him now dressed as a hermit, and all his followers with him, having got knowledge of the miraculous law--strange thoughts engaged their minds--"our brother having submitted thus, we too should also follow him." Thus the three brothers, with all their band of followers, were brought to hear the lord's discourse on the comparison of a fire sacrifice: and in the discourse he taught, "How the dark smoke of ignorance arises, whilst confused thoughts, like wood drilled into wood, create the fire. Lust, anger, delusion, these are as fire produced, and these inflame and burn all living things. Thus the fire of grief and sorrow, once enkindled, ceases not to burn, ever giving rise to birth and death; but whilst this fire of sorrow ceases not, yet are there two kinds of fire, one that burns but has no fuel left. So when the heart of man has once conceived distaste for sin, this distaste removing covetous desire, covetous desire extinguished, there is rescue; if once this rescue has been found, then with it is born sight and knowledge, by which distinguishing the streams of birth and death, and practising pure conduct, all is done that should be done, and hereafter shall be no more life." Thus the thousand Bhikshus hearing the world-honored preach, all defects forever done away, their minds found perfect and complete deliverance. Then Buddha for the Kâsyapas' sakes, and for the benefit of the thousand Bhikshus, having preached, and done all that should be done, himself with purity and wisdom and all the concourse of high qualities excellently adorned, he gave them, as in charity, rules for cleansing sense. The great Rishi, listening to reason, lost all regard for bodily austerities, and, as a man without a guide, was emptied of himself, and learned discipleship. And now the honored one and all his followers go forward to the royal city (Râgagriha), remembering, as he did, the Magadha king, and what he heretofore had promised. The honored one when he arrived, remained within the "staff grove"; Bimbisâra Râga hearing thereof, with all his company of courtiers, lords and ladies all surrounding him, came to where the master was. Then at a distance seeing Buddha seated, with humbled heart and subdued presence, putting off his common ornaments, descending from his chariot, forward he stepped; even as Sakra, king of gods, going to where Brahmadeva-râga dwells. Bowing down at Buddha's feet, he asked him, with respect, about his health of body; Buddha in his turn, having made inquiries, begged him to be seated on one side. Then the king's mind reflected silently:--"This Sâkya must have great controlling power, to subject to his will these Kâsyapas who now are round him as disciples." Buddha, knowing all thoughts, spoke thus to Kâsyapa, questioning him:--"What profit have you found in giving up your fire-adoring law?" Kâsyapa hearing Buddha's words, rising with dignity before the great assembly, bowed lowly down, and then with clasped hands and a loud voice addressing Buddha, said:--"The profit I received, adoring the fire spirit, was this--continuance in the wheel of life, birth and death, with all their sorrows growing--this service I have therefore cast away. Diligently I persevered in fire-worship, seeking to put an end to the five desires, in return I found desires endlessly increasing: therefore have I cast off this service. Sacrificing thus to fire with many Mantras, I did but miss escape from birth; receiving birth, with it came all its sorrows, therefore I cast it off and sought for rest. I was versed, indeed, in self-affliction, my mode of worship largely adopted, and counted of all most excellent, and yet I was opposed to highest wisdom. Therefore have I discarded it, and gone in quest of the supreme Nirvâna. Removing from me birth, old age, disease, and death, I sought a place of undying rest and calm. And as I gained the knowledge of this truth, then I cast off the law of worshipping the fire." The honored-of-the-world, hearing Kâsyapa declaring his experience of truth, wishing to move the world throughout to conceive a heart of purity and faith, addressing Kâsyapa further, said: "Welcome! great master, welcome! Rightly have you distinguished law from law, and well obtained the highest wisdom; now before this great assembly, pray you! exhibit your excellent endowments; as any rich and wealthy noble opens for view his costly treasures, causing the poor and sorrow-laden multitude to increase their forgetfulness awhile; and honor well your lord's instruction." Forthwith in presence of the assembly, gathering up his body and entering Samâdhi, calmly he ascended into space, and there displayed himself, walking, standing, sitting, sleeping, emitting fiery vapor from his body, on his right and left side water and fire, not burning and not moistening him. Then clouds and rain proceeded from him, thunder with lightning shook the heaven and earth; thus he drew the world to look in adoration, with eyes undazzled as they gazed; with different mouths, but all in language one, they magnified and praised this wondrous spectacle, then afterwards drawn by spiritual force, they came and worshipped at the master's feet, exclaiming:--"Buddha is our great teacher! we are the honored one's disciples." Thus having magnified his work and finished all he purposed doing, drawing the world as universal witness, the assembly was convinced that he, the world-honored, was truly the "Omniscient!" Buddha, perceiving that the whole assembly was ready as a vessel to receive the law, spoke thus to Bimbisâra Râga: "Listen now and understand: The mind, the thoughts, and all the senses are subject to the law of life and death. This fault of birth and death, once understood, then there is clear and plain perception. Obtaining this clear perception, then there is born knowledge of self; knowing oneself and with this knowledge laws of birth and death, then there is no grasping and no sense-perception. Knowing oneself, and understanding how the senses act, then there is no room for 'I' (soul) or ground for framing it; then all the accumulated mass of sorrow, sorrows born from life and death, being recognized as attributes of body, and as this body is not 'I,' nor offers ground for 'I,' then comes the great superlative, the source of peace unending. This thought of 'self' gives rise to all these sorrows, binding as with cords the world, but having found there is no 'I' that can be bound, then all these bonds are severed. There are no bonds indeed--they disappear--and seeing this there is deliverance. The world holds to this thought of 'I,' and so, from this, comes false apprehension. Of those who maintain the truth of it, some say the 'I' endures, some say it perishes; taking the two extremes of birth and death, their error is most grievous! For if they say the 'I' is perishable, the fruit they strive for, too, will perish; and at some time there will be no hereafter: this is indeed a meritless deliverance. But if they say the 'I' is not to perish, then in the midst of all this life and death there is but one identity as space, which is not born and does not die. If this is what they call the 'I,' then are all things living, one--for all have this unchanging self--not perfected by any deeds, but self-perfect. If so, if such a self it is that acts, let there be no self-mortifying conduct, the self is lord and master; what need to do that which is done? For if this 'I' is lasting and imperishable, then reason would teach it never can be changed. But now we see the marks of joy and sorrow, what room for constancy then is here? Knowing that birth brings this deliverance then I put away all thought of sin's defilement; the whole world, everything, endures! what then becomes of this idea of rescue? We cannot even talk of putting self away, truth is the same as falsehood; it is not 'I' that do a thing, and who, forsooth, is he that talks of 'I'? But if it is not 'I' that do the thing, then there is no 'I' that does it, and in the absence of these both, there is no 'I' at all, in very truth. No doer and no knower, no lord, yet notwithstanding this, there ever lasts this birth and death, like morn and night ever recurring. But now attend to me and listen: The senses six and their six objects united cause the six kinds of knowledge, these three united bring forth contact, then the intervolved effects of recollection follow. Then like the burning glass and tinder through the sun's power cause fire to appear, so through the knowledge born of sense and object, the lord of knowledge (self) is born. The shoot springs from the seed, the seed is not the shoot, not one and yet not different: such is the birth of all that lives." The honored of the world preaching the truth, the equal and impartial paramârtha, thus addressed the king with all his followers. Then King Bimbisâra filled with joy, removing from himself defilement, gained religious sight, a hundred thousand spirits also, hearing the words of the immortal law, shook off and lost the stain of sin. The Great Disciple Becomes a Hermit At this time Bimbisâra Râga, bowing his head, requested the honored of the world to change his place of abode for the bamboo grove; graciously accepting it, Buddha remained silent. Then the king, having perceived the truth, offered his adoration and returned to his palace. The world-honored, with the great congregation, proceeded on foot, to rest for awhile in the bamboo garden. There he dwelt to convert all that breathed, to kindle once for all the lamp of wisdom, to establish Brahma and the Devas, and to confirm the lives of saints and sages. At this time Asvagit and Vâshpa, with heart composed and every sense subdued, the time having come for begging food, entered into the town of Râgagriha. Unrivalled in the world were they for grace of person, and in dignity of carriage excelling all. The lords and ladies of the city seeing them, were filled with joy; those who were walking stood still, those before waited, those behind hastened on. Now the Rishi Kapila amongst all his numerous disciples had one of wide-spread fame, whose name was Sâriputra; he, beholding the wonderful grace of the Bhikshus, their composed mien and subdued senses, their dignified walk and carriage, raising his hands, inquiring, said: "Young in years, but pure and graceful in appearance, such as I before have never seen. What law most excellent have you obeyed? and who your master that has taught you? and what the doctrine you have learned? Tell me, I pray you, and relieve my doubts." Then of the Bhikshus, one, rejoicing at his question, with pleasing air and gracious words, replied: "The omniscient, born of the Ikshvâku family, the very first 'midst gods and men, this one is my great master. I am indeed but young, the sun of wisdom has but just arisen, how can I then explain the master's doctrine? Its meaning is deep and very hard to understand, but now, according to my poor wisdom, I will recount in brief the master's doctrine:--'Whatever things exist all spring from cause, the principles of birth and death may be destroyed, the way is by the means he has declared.'" Then the twice-born Upata, embracing heartily what he had heard, put from him all sense-pollution, and obtained the pure eyes of the law. The former explanations he had trusted, respecting cause and what was not the cause that there was nothing that was made, but was made by Isvara; all this, now that he had heard the rule of true causation, understanding the wisdom of the no-self, adding thereto the knowledge of the minute dust troubles, which can never be overcome in their completeness but by the teaching of Tathâgata, all this he now forever put away; leaving no room for thought of self, the thought of self will disappear. Who, when the brightness of the sun gives light, would call for the dimness of the lamp? for, like the severing the lotus, the stem once cut, the pods will also die. "So Buddha's teaching cutting off the stem of sorrow, no seeds are left to grow or lead to further increase." Then bowing at the Bhikshu's feet, with grateful mien, he wended homewards. The Bhikshus after having begged their food, likewise went back to the bamboo grove. Sâriputra on his arrival home rested with joyful face and full of peace. His friend, the honored Mugalin, equally renowned for learning, seeing Sâriputra in the distance, his pleasing air and lightsome step, spoke thus:--"As I now see thee, there is an unusual look I notice; your former nature seems quite changed, the signs of happiness I now observe, all indicate the possession of eternal truth: these marks are not uncaused." Answering he said: "The words of the Tathâgata are such as never yet were spoken," and then, requested, he declared what he had heard. Hearing the words and understanding them, he too put off the world's defilement, and gained the eyes of true religion, the reward of a long-planted virtuous cause; and, as one sees by a lamp that comes to hand, so he obtained an unmoved faith in Buddha; and now they both set out for Buddha's presence, with a large crowd of followers. Buddha seeing the two worthies coming, thus spoke to his disciples:--"These two men who come shall be my two most eminent followers, one unsurpassed for wisdom, the other for powers miraculous." And then with Brahma's voice, profound and sweet, he forthwith bade them "Welcome!" Here is the pure and peaceful law, he said; here the end of all discipleship! Their hands grasping the triple-staff, their twisted hair holding the water-vessel, hearing the words of Buddha's welcome, they forthwith changed into complete Sramanas; the leaders two and all their followers, assuming the complete appearance of Bhikshus, with prostrate forms fell down at Buddha's feet, then rising, sat beside him, and with obedient heart listening to the word, they all became Arhats. At this time there was a twice-born sage, Kâsyapa Shi-ming-teng, celebrated and perfect in person, rich in possessions, and his wife most virtuous. But all this he had left and become a hermit, seeking the way of salvation. And now in the way by the To-tseu tower he suddenly encountered Sâkya Muni, remarkable for his dignified and illustrious appearance, as the embroidered flag of a temple. Respectfully and reverently approaching, with head bowed down, he worshipped his feet, whilst he said: "Truly, honored one, you are my teacher, and I am your follower: much and long time have I been harassed with doubts, oh! would that you would light the lamp of knowledge." Buddha knowing that this twice-born sage was heartily desirous of finding the best mode of escape, with soft and pliant voice, he bade him come and welcome. Hearing his bidding and his heart complying, losing all listlessness of body or spirit, his soul embraced the terms of this most excellent salvation. Quiet and calm, putting away defilement, the great merciful, as he alone knew how, briefly explained the mode of this deliverance, exhibiting the secrets of his law, ending with the four indestructible acquirements. The great sage, everywhere celebrated, was called Mahâ Kâsyapa. His original faith was that "body and soul are different," but he had also held that they are the same; that there was both "I" and a place for "I"; but now he forever cast away his former faith, and considered only that "sorrow" is ever accumulating; so by removing sorrow there will be "no remains"; obedience to the precepts and the practice of discipline, though not themselves the cause, yet he considered these the necessary mode by which to find deliverance. With equal and impartial mind, he considered the nature of sorrow, for evermore freed from a cleaving heart. Whether we think "this is" or "this is not" he thought, both tend to produce a listless, idle mode of life. But when with equal mind we see the truth, then certainty is produced and no more doubt. If we rely for support on wealth or form, then wild confusion and concupiscence result: inconstant and impure. But lust and covetous desire removed, the heart of love and equal thoughts produced, there can be then no enemies or friends, but the heart is pitiful and kindly disposed to all, and thus is destroyed the power of anger and of hate. Trusting to outward things and their relationships, then crowding thoughts of every kind are gendered. Reflecting well, and crushing out confusing thought, then lust for pleasure is destroyed. Though born in the Arûpa world he saw that there would be a remnant of life still left; unacquainted with the four right truths, he had felt an eager longing for this deliverance, for the quiet resulting from the absence of all thought. And now putting away forever covetous desire for such a formless state of being, his restless heart was agitated still, as the stream is excited by the rude wind. Then entering on deep reflection in quiet he subdued his troubled mind, and realized the truth of there being no "self," and that therefore birth and death are no realities; but beyond this point he rose not: his thought of "self" destroyed, all else was lost. But now the lamp of wisdom lit, the gloom of every doubt dispersed, he saw an end to that which seemed without an end; ignorance finally dispelled, he considered the ten points of excellence; the ten seeds of sorrow destroyed, he came once more to life, and what he ought to do, he did. And now regarding with reverence the face of his lord, he put away the three and gained the three; so were there three disciples in addition to the three; and as the three stars range around the Trayastrimsas heaven, waiting upon the three and five, so the three wait on Buddha. Conversion of the "Supporter of the Orphans and Destitute" At this time there was a great householder whose name was "Friend of the Orphaned and Destitute"; he was very rich and widely charitable in helping the poor and needy. Now this man, coming far away from the north, even from the country of Kosala, stopped at the house of a friend whose name was Sheu-lo. Hearing that Buddha was in the world and dwelling in the bamboo grove near at hand, understanding moreover his renown and illustrious qualities, he set out that very night for the grove. Tathâgata, well aware of his character, and that he was prepared to bring forth purity and faith, according to the case, called him by his true name, and for his sake addressed him in words of religion:--"Having rejoiced in the true law, and being humbly desirous for a pure and believing heart, thou hast overcome desire for sleep, and art here to pay me reverence. Now then will I for your sake discharge fully the duties of a first meeting. In your former births the root of virtue planted firm in pure and rare expectancy, hearing now the name of Buddha, you rejoiced because you are a vessel fit for righteousness, humble in mind, but large in gracious deeds, abundant in your charity to the poor and helpless. The name you possess widespread and famous, the just reward of former merit, the deeds you now perform are done of charity: done with the fullest purpose and of single heart. Now, therefore, take from me the charity of perfect rest, and for this end accept my rules of purity. My rules are full of grace, able to rescue from destruction, and cause a man to ascend to heaven and share in all its pleasures. But yet to seek for these is a great evil, for lustful longing in its increase brings much sorrow. Practise then the art of 'giving up' all search, for 'giving up' desire is the joy of perfect rest. Know then! that age, disease, and death, these are the great sorrows of the world. Rightly considering the world, we put away birth and old age, disease and death; but now because we see that men at large inherit sorrow caused by age, disease, and death, we gather that when born in heaven, the case is also thus; for there is no continuance there for any, and where there is no continuance there is sorrow, and having sorrow there is no 'true self.' And if the state of 'no continuance' and of sorrow is opposed to 'self,' what room is there for such idea or ground for self? Know then! that 'sorrow' is this very sorrow and its repetition is 'accumulation'; destroy this sorrow and there is joy, the way is in the calm and quiet place. The restless busy nature of the world, this I declare is at the root of pain. Stop then the end by choking up the source. Desire not either life or its opposite; the raging fire of birth, old age, and death burns up the world on every side. Seeing the constant toil of birth and death we ought to strive to attain a passive state: the final goal of Sammata, the place of immortality and rest. All is empty! neither 'self,' nor place for 'self,' but all the world is like a phantasy; this is the way to regard ourselves, as but a heap of composite qualities." The nobleman, hearing the spoken law, forthwith attained the first degree of holiness: he emptied as it were, the sea of birth and death, one drop alone remaining. By practising, apart from men, the banishment of all desire, he soon attained the one impersonal condition, not as common folk do now-a-day who speculate upon the mode of true deliverance; for he who does not banish sorrow-causing samskâras does but involve himself in every kind of question; and though he reaches to the highest form of being, yet grasps not the one and only truth. Erroneous thoughts as to the joy of heaven are still entwined by the fast cords of lust. The nobleman attending to the spoken law the cloud of darkness opened before the shining splendor. Thus he attained true sight, erroneous views forever dissipated; even as the furious winds of autumn sway to and fro and scatter all the heaped-up clouds. He argued not that Isvara was cause, nor did he advocate some cause heretical, nor yet again did he affirm there was no cause for the beginning of the world. "If the world was made by Isvara deva, there should be neither young nor old, first nor after, nor the five ways of birth; and when once born there should be no destruction. Nor should there be such thing as sorrow or calamity, nor doing wrong nor doing right; for all, both pure and impure deeds, these must come from Isvara deva. Again, if Isvara deva made the world there should be never doubt about the fact, even as a son born of his father ever confesses him and pays him reverence. Men when pressed by sore calamity ought not to rebel against him, but rather reverence him completely, as the self-existent. Nor ought they to adore more gods than one. Again, if Isvara be the maker he should not be called the self-existent, because in that he is the maker now he always should have been the maker; but if ever making, then ever self-remembering, and therefore not the self-existent one--and if he made without a purpose then is he like the sucking child; but if he made having an ever prompting purpose, then is he not, with such a purpose, self-existent? Sorrow and joy spring up in all that lives, these at least are not the works of Isvara; for if he causes grief and joy, he must himself have love and hate; but if he loves unduly, or has hatred, he cannot properly be named the self-existent. Again, if Isvara be the maker, all living things should silently submit, patient beneath the maker's power, and then what use to practise virtue? Twere equal, then, the doing right or wrong: there should be no reward of works; the works themselves being his making, then all things are the same with him, the maker, but if all things are one with him, then our deeds, and we who do them, are also self-existent. But if Isvara be uncreated, then all things, being one with him, are uncreated. But if you say there is another cause beside him as creator, then Isvara is not the 'end of all'; Isvara, who ought to be inexhaustible, is not so, and therefore all that lives may after all be uncreated--without a maker. Thus, you see, the thought of Isvara is overthrown in this discussion; and all such contradictory assertions should be exposed; if not, the blame is ours. Again, if it be said self-nature is the maker, this is as faulty as the first assertion; nor has either of the Hetuvidyâ sâstras asserted such a thing as this, till now. That which depends on nothing cannot as a cause make that which is; but all things round us come from a cause, as the plant comes from the seed; we cannot therefore say that all things are produced by self-nature. Again, all things which exist spring not from one nature as a cause; and yet you say self-nature is but one: it cannot then be cause of all. If you say that that self-nature pervades and fills all places, if it pervades and fills all things, then certainly it cannot make them too; for there would be nothing, then, to make, and therefore this cannot be the cause. If, again, it fills all places and yet makes all things that exist, then it should throughout 'all time' have made forever that which is. But if you say it made things thus, then there is nothing to be made 'in time'; know then, for certain, self-nature cannot be the cause of all. Again, they say that that self-nature excludes all modifications, therefore all things made by it ought likewise to be free from modifications. But we see, in fact, that all things in the world are fettered throughout by modifications; therefore, again, we say that self-nature cannot be the cause of all. If, again, you say that that self-nature is different from such qualities, we answer, since self-nature must have ever caused, it cannot differ in its nature from itself; but if the world be different from these qualities, then self-nature cannot be the cause. Again, if self-nature be unchangeable, so things should also be without decay; if we regard self-nature as the cause, then cause and consequence of reason should be one; but because we see decay in all things, we know that they at least are caused. Again, if self-nature be the cause, why should we seek to find 'escape'? for we ourselves possess this nature; patient then should we endure both birth and death. For let us take the case that one may find 'escape,' self-nature still will reconstruct the evil of birth. If self-nature in itself be blind, yet 'tis the maker of the world that sees. On this account, again, it cannot be the maker, because, in this case, cause and effect would differ in their character, but in all the world around us, cause and effect go hand in hand. Again, if self-nature have no aim, it cannot cause that which has such purpose. We know on seeing smoke there must be fire, and cause and result are ever classed together thus. We are forbidden, then, to say an unthinking cause can make a thing that has intelligence. The gold of which the cup is made is gold throughout from first to last, self-nature, then, that makes these things, from first to last must permeate all it makes. Once more, if 'time' is maker of the world, 'twere needless then to seek 'escape,' for 'time' is constant and unchangeable: let us in patience bear the 'intervals' of time. The world in its successions has no limits, the 'intervals' of time are boundless also. Those then who practise a religious life need not rely on 'methods' or 'expedients.' The To-lo-piu Kiu-na, the one strange Sâstra in the world, although it has so many theories, yet still, be it known, it is opposed to any single cause. But if, again, you say that 'self' is maker, then surely self should make things pleasingly; but now things are not pleasing for oneself, how then is it said that self is maker? But if he did not wish to make things so, then he who wishes for things pleasing, is opposed to self, the maker. Sorrow and joy are not self-existing, how can these be made by self? But if we allow that self was maker, there should not be, at least, an evil karman; but yet our deeds produce results both good and evil; know then that 'self' cannot be maker. But perhaps you say 'self' is the maker according to occasion, and then the occasion ought to be for good alone. But as good and evil both result from 'cause,' it cannot be that 'self' has made it so. But if you adopt the argument--there is no maker--then it is useless practising expedients; all things are fixed and certain of themselves: what good to try to make them otherwise? Deeds of every kind, done in the world, do, notwithstanding, bring forth every kind of fruit; therefore we argue all things that exist are not without some cause or other. There is both 'mind' and 'want of mind'--all things come from fixed causation; the world and all therein is not the result of 'nothing' as a cause." The nobleman, his heart receiving light, perceived throughout the most excellent system of truth. Simple, and of wisdom born; thus firmly settled in the true doctrine he lowly bent in worship at the feet of Buddha and with closed hands made his request:-- "I dwell indeed at Srâvasti, a land rich in produce, and enjoying peace; Prasenagit is the great king thereof, the offspring of the 'lion' family; his high renown and fame spread everywhere, reverenced by all both far and near. Now am I wishful there to found a Vihâra, I pray you of your tenderness accept it from me. I know the heart of Buddha has no preferences, nor does he seek a resting-place from labor, but on behalf of all that lives refuse not my request." Buddha, knowing the householder's heart, that his great charity was now the moving cause--untainted and unselfish charity, nobly considerate of the heart of all that lives--he said: "Now you have seen the true doctrine, your guileless heart loves to exercise its charity: for wealth and money are inconstant treasures, 'twere better quickly to bestow such things on others. For when a treasury has been burnt, whatever precious things may have escaped the fire, the wise man, knowing their inconstancy, gives freely, doing acts of kindness with his saved possessions. But the niggard guards them carefully, fearing to lose them, worn by anxiety, but never fearing 'inconstancy,' and that accumulated sorrow, when he loses all! There is a proper time and a proper mode in charity; just as the vigorous warrior goes to battle, so is the man 'able to give'--he also is an able warrior; a champion strong and wise in action. The charitable man is loved by all, well-known and far-renowned! his friendship prized by the gentle and the good, in death his heart at rest and full of joy! He suffers no repentance, no tormenting fear, nor is he born a wretched ghost or demon! this is the opening flower of his reward, the fruit that follows--hard to conjecture! In all the six conditions born there is no sweet companion like pure charity; if born a Deva or a man, then charity brings worship and renown on every hand; if born among the lower creatures, the result of charity will follow in contentment got; wisdom leads the way to fixed composure without dependence and without number, and if we even reach the immortal path, still by continuous acts of charity we fulfil ourselves in consequence of kindly charity done elsewhere. Training ourselves in the eightfold path of recollection, in every thought the heart is filled with joy; firm fixed in holy contemplation, by meditation still we add to wisdom, able to see aright the cause of birth and death; having beheld aright the cause of these, then follows in due order perfect deliverance. The charitable man discarding earthly wealth, nobly excludes the power of covetous desire; loving and compassionate now, he gives with reverence and banishes all hatred, envy, anger. So plainly may we see the fruit of charity, putting away all covetous and unbelieving ways, the bands of sorrow all destroyed: this is the fruit of kindly charity. Know then! the charitable man has found the cause of final rescue; even as the man who plants the sapling thereby secures the shade, the flowers, the fruit of the tree full grown; the result of charity is even so, its reward is joy and the great Nirvâna. The charity which un-stores wealth leads to returns of well-stored fruit. Giving away our food we get more strength, giving away our clothes we get more beauty, founding religious rest-places we reap the perfect fruit of the best charity. There is a way of giving, seeking pleasure by it; there is a way of giving, coveting to get more; some also give away to get a name for charity, others to get the happiness of heaven, others to avoid the pain of being poor hereafter, but yours, O friend! is a charity without such thoughts: the highest and the best degree of charity, without self-interest or thought of getting more. What your heart inclines you now to do, let it be quickly done and well completed! The uncertain and the lustful heart goes wandering here and there, but the pure eyes of virtue opening, the heart comes back and rests!" The nobleman accepting Buddha's teaching, his kindly heart receiving yet more light. He invited Upatishya, his excellent friend, to accompany him on his return to Kosala; and then going round to select a pleasant site, he saw the garden of the heir-apparent, Geta, the groves and limpid streams most pure. Proceeding where the prince was dwelling, he asked for leave to buy the ground; the prince, because he valued it so much, at first was not inclined to sell, but said at last:--"If you can cover it with gold then, but not else, you may possess it." The nobleman, his heart rejoicing, forthwith began to spread his gold. Then Geta said: "I will not give, why then spread you your gold?" The nobleman replied, "Not give; why then said you, 'Fill it with yellow gold'?" And thus they differed and contended both, till they resorted to the magistrate. Meanwhile the people whispered much about his unwonted charity, and Geta too, knowing the man's sincerity, asked more about the matter: what his reasons were. On his reply, "I wish to found a Vihâra, and offer it to the Tathâgata and all his Bhikshu followers," the prince, hearing the name of Buddha, received at once illumination, and only took one-half the gold, desiring to share in the foundation: "Yours is the land," he said, "but mine the trees; these will I give to Buddha as my share in the offering." Then the noble took the land, Geta the trees, and settled both in trust on Sâriputra. Then they began to build the hall, laboring night and day to finish it. Lofty it rose and choicely decorated, as one of the four kings' palaces, in just proportions, following the directions which Buddha had declared the right ones. Never yet so great a miracle as this! the priests shone in the streets of Srâvasti! Tathâgata, seeing the divine shelter, with all his holy ones resorted to the place to rest. No followers there to bow in prostrate service, his followers rich in wisdom only. The nobleman reaping his reward, at the end of life ascended up to heaven, leaving to sons and grandsons a good foundation, through successive generations, to plough the field of merit. Interview between Father and Son Buddha in the Magadha country employing himself in converting all kinds of unbelievers, entirely changed them by the one and self-same law he preached, even as the sun drowns with its brightness all the stars. Then leaving the city of the five mountains with the company of his thousand disciples, and with a great multitude who went before and came after him, he advanced towards the Ni-kin mountain, near Kapilavastu; and there he conceived in himself a generous purpose to prepare an offering according to his religious doctrine to present to his father, the king. And now, in anticipation of his coming, the royal teacher and the chief minister had sent forth certain officers and their attendants to observe on the right hand and the left what was taking place; and they soon espied him (Buddha) as he advanced or halted on the way. Knowing that Buddha was now returning to his country they hastened back and quickly announced the tidings, "The prince who wandered forth afar to obtain enlightenment, having fulfilled his aim, is now coming back." The king hearing the news was greatly rejoiced, and forthwith went out with his gaudy equipage to meet his son; and the whole body of gentry belonging to the country, went forth with him in his company. Gradually advancing he beheld Buddha from afar, his marks of beauty sparkling with splendor twofold greater than of yore; placed in the middle of the great congregation he seemed to be even as Brahma râga. Descending from his chariot and advancing with dignity, the king was anxious lest there should be any religious difficulty in the way of instant recognition; and now beholding his beauty he inwardly rejoiced, but his mouth found no words to utter. He reflected, too, how that he was still dwelling among the unconverted throng, whilst his son had advanced and become a saint; and although he was his son, yet as he now occupied the position of a religious lord, he knew not by what name to address him. Furthermore he thought with himself how he had long ago desired earnestly this interview, which now had happened unawares. Meantime his son in silence took a seat, perfectly composed and with unchanged countenance. Thus for some time sitting opposite each other, with no expression of feeling the king reflected thus, "How desolate and sad does he now make my heart, as that of a man, who, fainting, longs for water, upon the road espies a fountain pure and cold; with haste he speeds towards it and longs to drink, when suddenly the spring dries up and disappears. Thus, now I see my son, his well-known features as of old; but how estranged his heart! and how his manner high and lifted up! There are no grateful outflowings of soul, his feelings seem unwilling to express themselves; cold and vacant there he sits; and like a thirsty man before a dried-up fountain so am I." Still distant thus they sat, with crowding thoughts rushing through the mind, their eyes full met, but no responding joy; each looking at the other, seemed as one thinking of a distant friend who gazes by accident upon his pictured form. "That you," the king reflected, "who of right might rule the world, even as that Mândhâtri râga, should now go begging here and there your food! what joy or charm has such a life as this? Composed and firm as Sumeru, with marks of beauty bright as the sunlight, with dignity of step like the ox king, fearless as any lion, and yet receiving not the tribute of the world, but begging food sufficient for your body's nourishment!" Buddha, knowing his father's mind, still kept to his own filial purpose. And then to open out his mind, and moved with pity for the multitude of people, by his miraculous power he rose in mid-air and with his hands appeared to grasp the sun and moon. Then he walked to and fro in space, and underwent all kinds of transformation, dividing his body into many parts, then joining all in one again. Treading firm on water as on dry land, entering the earth as in the water, passing through walls of stone without impediment, from the right side and the left water and fire produced! The king, his father, filled with joy, now dismissed all thought of son and father; then upon a lotus throne, seated in space, he (Buddha) for his father's sake declared the law:-- "I know that the king's heart is full of love and recollection, and that for his son's sake he adds grief to grief; but now let the bands of love that bind him, thinking of his son, be instantly unloosed and utterly destroyed. Ceasing from thoughts of love, let your calmed mind receive from me, your son, religious nourishment such as no son has offered yet to father: such do I present to you the king, my father. And what no father yet has from a son received, now from your son you may accept, a gift miraculous for any mortal king to enjoy, and seldom had by any heavenly king! The way superlative of life immortal I offer now the Mahârâga; from accumulated deeds comes birth, and as the result of deeds comes recompense. Knowing then that deeds bring fruit, how diligent should you be to rid yourself of worldly deeds! how careful that in the world your deeds should be only good and gentle! Fondly affected by relationship or firmly bound by mutual ties of love, at end of life the soul goes forth alone--then, only our good deeds befriend us. Whirled in the five ways of the wheel of life, three kinds of deeds produce three kinds of birth, and these are caused by lustful hankering, each kind different in its character. Deprive these of their power by the practice now of proper deeds of body and of word; by such right preparation, day and night strive to get rid of all confusion of the mind and practise silent contemplation; only this brings profit in the end, besides this there is no reality; for be sure! the three worlds are but as the froth and bubble of the sea. Would you have pleasure, or would you practise that which brings it near? then prepare yourself by deeds that bring the fourth birth: but still the five ways in the wheel of birth and death are like the uncertain wandering of the stars; for heavenly beings too must suffer change: how shall we find with men a hope of constancy; Nirvâna! that is the chief rest; composure! that the best of all enjoyments! The five indulgences enjoyed by mortal kings are fraught with danger and distress, like dwelling with a poisonous snake; what pleasure, for a moment, can there be in such a case? The wise man sees the world as compassed round with burning flames; he fears always, nor can he rest till he has banished, once for all, birth, age, and death. Infinitely quiet is the place where the wise man finds his abode; no need of arms or weapons there! no elephants or horses, chariots or soldiers there! Subdued the power of covetous desire and angry thoughts and ignorance, there's nothing left in the wide world to conquer! Knowing what sorrow is, he cuts away the cause of sorrow. This destroyed, by practising right means, rightly enlightened in the four true principles, he casts off fear and escapes the evil ways of birth." The king when first he saw his wondrous spiritual power of miracle rejoiced in heart; but now his feelings deeply affected by the joy of hearing truth, he became a perfect vessel for receiving true religion, and with clasped hands he breathed forth his praise: "Wonderful indeed! the fruit of your resolve completed thus! Wonderful indeed! the overwhelming sorrow passed away! Wonderful indeed, this gain to me! At first my sorrowing heart was heavy, but now my sorrow has brought forth only profit! Wonderful indeed! for now, to-day, I reap the full fruit of a begotten son. It was right he should reject the choice pleasures of a monarch, it was right he should so earnestly and with diligence practise penance; it was right he should cast off his family and kin; it was right he should cut off every feeling of love and affection. The old Rishi kings boasting of their penance gained no merit; but you, living in a peaceful, quiet place, have done all and completed all; yourself at rest now you give rest to others, moved by your mighty sympathy for all that lives! If you had kept your first estate with men, and as a Kakravartin monarch ruled the world, possessing then no self-depending power of miracle, how could my soul have then received deliverance? Then there would have been no excellent law declared, causing me such joy to-day; no! had you been a universal sovereign, the bonds of birth and death would still have been unsevered, but now you have escaped from birth and death; the great pain of transmigration overcome, you are able, for the sake of every creature, widely to preach the law of life immortal, and to exhibit thus your power miraculous, and show the deep and wide power of wisdom; the grief of birth and death eternally destroyed, you now have risen far above both gods and men. You might have kept the holy state of a Kakravartin monarch; but no such good as this would have resulted." Thus his words of praise concluded, filled with increased reverence and religious love, he who occupied the honored place of a royal father, bowed down respectfully and did obeisance. Then all the people of the kingdom, beholding Buddha's miraculous power, and having heard the deep and excellent law, seeing, moreover, the king's grave reverence, with clasped hands bowed down and worshipped. Possessed with deep portentous thoughts, satiated with sorrows attached to lay-life, they all conceived a wish to leave their homes. The princes, too, of the Sâkya tribe, their minds enlightened to perceive the perfect fruit of righteousness, entirely satiated with the glittering joys of the world, forsaking home, rejoiced to join his company. Ânanda, Nanda, Kin-pi, Anuruddha, Nandupananda, with Kundadana, all these principal nobles and others of the Sâkya family, from the teaching of Buddha became disciples and accepted the law. The sons of the great minister of state, Udâyin being the chief, with all the royal princes following in order became recluses. Moreover, the son of Atalî, whose name was Upâli, seeing all these princes and the sons of the chief minister becoming hermits, his mind opening for conversion, he, too, received the law of renunciation. The royal father seeing his son possessing the great qualities of Riddhi, himself entered on the calm flowings of thought, the gate of the true law of eternal life. Leaving his kingly estate and country, lost in meditation, he drank sweet dew. Practising his religious duties in solitude, silent and contemplative he dwelt in his palace, a royal Rishi. Tathâgata following a peaceable life, recognized fully by his tribe, repeating the joyful news of religion, gladdened the hearts of all his kinsmen hearing him. And now, it being the right time for begging food, he entered the Kapila country; in the city all the lords and ladies, in admiration, raised this chant of praise: "Siddhârtha! fully enlightened! has come back again!" The news flying quickly in and out of doors, the great and small came forth to see him; every door and every window crowded, climbing on shoulders, bending down the eyes, they gazed upon the marks of beauty on his person, shining and glorious! Wearing his Kashâya garment outside, the glory of his person from within shone forth, like the sun's perfect wheel; within, without, he seemed one mass of splendor. Those who beheld were filled with sympathizing joy; their hands conjoined, they wept for gladness; and so they watched him as he paced with dignity the road, his form collected, all his organs well-controlled! His lovely body exhibiting the perfection of religious beauty, his dignified compassion adding to their regretful joy; his shaven head, his personal beauty sacrificed! his body clad in dark and sombre vestment, his manner natural and plain, his unadorned appearance; his circumspection as he looked upon the earth in walking! "He who ought to have had held over him the feather-shade," they said, "whose hands should grasp 'the reins of the flying dragon,' see how he walks in daylight on the dusty road! holding his alms-dish, going to beg! Gifted enough to tread down every enemy, lovely enough to gladden woman's heart, with glittering vesture and with godlike crown reverenced he might have been by servile crowds! But now, his manly beauty hidden, with heart restrained, and outward form subdued, rejecting the much-coveted and glorious apparel, his shining body clad with garments gray, what aim, what object, now! Hating the five delights that move the world, forsaking virtuous wife and tender child, loving the solitude, he wanders friendless; hard, indeed, for virtuous wife through the long night, cherishing her grief; and now to hear he is a hermit! She inquires not now of the royal Suddhodana if he has seen his son or not! But as she views his beauteous person, to think his altered form is now a hermit's! hating his home, still full of love; his father, too, what rest for him! And then his loving child Râhula, weeping with constant sorrowful desire! And now to see no change, or heart-relenting; and this the end of such enlightenment! All these attractive marks, the proofs of a religious calling, whereas, when born, all said, these are marks of a 'great man,' who ought to receive tribute from the four seas! And now to see what he has come to! all these predictive words vain and illusive." Thus they talked together, the gossiping multitude, with confused accents. Tathâgata, his heart unaffected, felt no joy and no regret. But he was moved by equal love to all the world, his one desire that men should escape the grief of lust; to cause the root of virtue to increase, and for the sake of coming ages, to leave the marks of self-denial behind him, to dissipate the clouds and mists of sensual desire. He entered, thus intentioned, on the town to beg. He accepted food both good or bad, whatever came, from rich or poor, without distinction; having filled his alms-dish, he then returned back to the solitude. Receiving the Getavana Vihâra The lord of the world, having converted the people of Kapilavastu according to their several circumstances, his work being done, he went with the great body of his followers, and directed his way to the country of Kosala, where dwelt King Prasenagit. The Getavana was now fully adorned, and its halls and courts carefully prepared. The fountains and streams flowed through the garden which glittered with flowers and fruit; rare birds sat by the pools, and on the land they sang in sweet concord, according to their kind. Beautiful in every way as the palace of Mount Kilas, such was the Getavana. Then the noble friend of the orphans, surrounded by his attendants, who met him on the way, scattering flowers and burning incense, invited the lord to enter the Getavana. In his hand he carried a golden dragon-pitcher, and bending low upon his knees he poured the flowing water as a sign of the gift of the Getavana Vihâra for the use of the priesthood throughout the world. The lord then received it, with the prayer that "overruling all evil influences it might give the kingdom permanent rest, and that the happiness of Anâthapindada might flow out in countless streams." Then the king Prasenagit, hearing that the lord had come, with his royal equipage went to the Getavana to worship at the lord's feet. Having arrived and taken a seat on one side, with clasped hands he spake to Buddha thus:-- "O that my unworthy and obscure kingdom should thus suddenly have met such fortune! For how can misfortunes or frequent calamities possibly affect it, in the presence of so great a man? And now that I have seen your sacred features, I may perhaps partake of the converting streams of your teaching. A town although it is composed of many sections, yet both ignoble and holy persons may enter the surpassing stream; and so the wind which fans the perfumed grove causes the scents to unite and form one pleasant breeze; and as the birds which collect on Mount Sumeru are many, and the various shades that blend in shining gold, so an assembly may consist of persons of different capacities: individually insignificant, but a glorious body. The desert master by nourishing the Rishi, procured a birth as the three leg, or foot star; worldly profit is fleeting and perishable, religious profit is eternal and inexhaustible; a man though a king is full of trouble, a common man, who is holy, has everlasting rest." Buddha knowing the state of the king's heart--that he rejoiced in religion as Sakrarâga--considered the two obstacles that weighted him--viz., too great love of money and of external pleasures, then seizing the opportunity, and knowing the tendencies of his heart, he began, for the king's sake, to preach: "Even those who, by evil karma, have been born in low degree, when they see a person of virtuous character, feel reverence for him; how much rather ought an independent king, who by his previous conditions of life has acquired much merit, when he encounters Buddha, to conceive even more reverence. Nor is it difficult to understand, that a country should enjoy more rest and peace, by the presence of Buddha, than if he were not to dwell therein. And now, as I briefly declare my law, let the Mahârâga listen and weigh my words, and hold fast that which I deliver! See now the end of my perfected merit, my life is done, there is for me no further body or spirit, but freedom from all ties of kith or kin! The good or evil deeds we do from first to last follow us as shadows; most exalted then the deeds of the king of the law. The prince who cherishes his people, in the present life gains renown, and hereafter ascends to heaven; but by disobedience and neglect of duty, present distress is felt and future misery! As in old times Lui-'ma râga, by obeying the precepts, was born in heaven, whilst Kin-pu râga, doing wickedly, at the end of life was born in misery. Now then, for the sake of the great king, I will briefly relate the good and evil law. The great requirement is a loving heart! to regard the people as we do an only son, not to oppress, not to destroy; to keep in due check every member of the body, to forsake unrighteous doctrine and walk in the straight path; not to exalt one's self by treading down others, but to comfort and befriend those in suffering; not to exercise one's self in false theories, nor to ponder much on kingly dignity, nor to listen to the smooth words of false teachers. Not to vex one's self by austerities, not to exceed or transgress the right rules of kingly conduct, but to meditate on Buddha and weigh his righteous law, and to put down and adjust all that is contrary to religion; to exhibit true superiority by virtuous conduct and the highest exercise of reason, to meditate deeply on the vanity of earthly things, to realize the fickleness of life by constant recollection; to exalt the mind to the highest point of reflection, to seek sincere faith (truth) with firm purpose; to retain an inward sense of happiness resulting from one's self, and to look forward to increased happiness hereafter; to lay up a good name for distant ages, this will secure the favor of Tathâgata, as men now loving sweet fruit will hereafter be praised by their descendants. There is a way of darkness out of light, there is a way of light out of darkness; there is darkness which follows after the gloom, there is a light which causes the brightening of light. The wise man, leaving first principles, should go on to get more light; evil words will be repeated far and wide by the multitude, but there are few to follow good direction: It is impossible, however, to avoid result of works, the doer cannot escape; if there had been no first works, there had been in the end no result of doing--no reward for good, no hereafter joy; but because works are done, there is no escape. Let us then practise good works; let us inspect our thoughts that we do no evil, because as we sow so we reap. As when enclosed in a four-stone mountain, there is no escape or place of refuge for anyone, so within this mountain-wall of old age, birth, disease, and death, there is no escape for the world. Only by considering and practising the true law can we escape from this sorrow-piled mountain. There is, indeed, no constancy in the world, the end of the pleasures of sense is as the lightning flash, whilst old age and death are as the piercing bolts; what profit, then, in doing iniquity! All the ancient conquering kings, who were as gods on earth, thought by their strength to overcome decay; but after a brief life they too disappeared. The Kalpa-fire will melt Mount Sumeru, the water of the ocean will be dried up, how much less can our human frame, which is as a bubble, expect to endure for long upon the earth! The fierce wind scatters the thick mists, the sun's rays encircle Mount Sumeru, the fierce fire licks up the place of moisture, so things are ever born once more to be destroyed! The body is a thing of unreality, kept through the suffering of the long night pampered by wealth, living idly and in carelessness, death suddenly comes and it is carried away as rotten wood in the stream! The wise man, expecting these changes, with diligence strives against sloth; the dread of birth and death acts as a spur to keep him from lagging on the road; he frees himself from engagements, he is not occupied with self-pleasing, he is not entangled by any of the cares of life, he holds to no business, seeks no friendships, engages in no learned career, nor yet wholly separates himself from it; for his learning is the wisdom of not-perceiving wisdom, but yet perceiving that which tells him of his own impermanence; having a body, yet keeping aloof from defilement, he learns to regard defilement as the greatest evil. He knows that, though born in the Arûpa world, there is yet no escape from the changes of time; his learning, then, is to acquire the changeless body; for where no change is, there is peace. Thus the possession of this changeful body is the foundation of all sorrow. Therefore, again, all who are wise make this their aim--to seek a bodiless condition; all the various orders of sentient creatures, from the indulgence of lust, derive pain; therefore all those in this condition ought to conceive a heart, loathing lust; putting away and loathing this condition, then they shall receive no more pain; though born in a state with or without an external form, the certainty of future change is the root of sorrow; for so long as there is no perfect cessation of personal being, there can be, certainly, no absence of personal desire; beholding, in this way, the character of the three worlds, their inconstancy and unreality, the presence of ever-consuming pain, how can the wise man seek enjoyment therein? When a tree is burning with fierce flames how can the birds congregate therein? The wise man, who is regarded as an enlightened sage, without this knowledge is ignorant; having this knowledge, then true wisdom dawns; without it, there is no enlightenment. To get this wisdom is the one aim, to neglect it is the mistake of life. All the teaching of the schools should be centred here; without it is no true reason. To recount this excellent system is not for those who dwell in family connection; nor is it, on that account, not to be said, for religion concerns a man individually. Burned up with sorrow, by entering the cool stream, all may obtain relief and ease; the light of a lamp in a dark coom lights up equally objects of all colors, so is it with those who devote themselves to religion--there is no distinction between the professed disciple and the unlearned. Sometimes the mountain-dweller falls into ruin, sometimes the humble householder mounts up to be a Rishi; the want of faith is the engulfing sea, the presence of disorderly belief is the rolling flood. The tide of lust carries away the world; involved in its eddies there is no escape; wisdom is the handy boat, reflection is the hold-fast. The drum-call of religion, the barrier of thought, these alone can rescue from the sea of ignorance." At this time the king, sincerely attentive to the words of the All-wise, conceived a distaste for the world's glitter and was dissatisfied with the pleasures of royalty, even as one avoids a drunken elephant, or returns to right reason after a debauch. Then all the heretical teachers, seeing that the king was well affected to Buddha, besought the king, with one voice, to call on Buddha to exhibit his miraculous gifts. Then the king addressed the lord of the world: "I pray you, grant their request!" Then Buddha silently acquiesced. And now all the different professors of religion, the doctors who boasted of their spiritual power, came together in a body to where Buddha was; then he manifested before them his power of miracle: ascending up into the air, he remained seated, diffusing his glory as the light of the sun he shed abroad the brightness of his presence. The heretical teachers were all abashed, the people all were filled with faith. Then for the sake of preaching to his mother, he forthwith ascended to the heaven of the thirty-three gods, and for three months dwelt in heavenly mansions. There he converted the occupants of that abode, and having concluded his pious mission to his mother, the time of his sojourn in heaven finished, he forthwith returned, the angels accompanying him on wing; he travelled down a seven-gemmed ladder, and again arrived at Gambudvîpa. Stepping down he alighted on the spot where all the Buddhas return, countless hosts of angels accompanied him, conveying with them their palace abodes as a gift. The people of Gambudvipa, with closed hands, looking up with reverence, beheld him. Escaping the Drunken Elephant and Devadatta Having instructed his mother in heaven with all the angel host, and once more returned to men, he went about converting those capable of it. Gutika, Gîvaka, Sula, and Kûrna, the noble's son Anga and the son of the fearless king Abhaya Nyagrodha and the rest; Srîkutaka, Upâli the Nirgrantha; all these were thoroughly converted. So also the king of Gandhâra, whose name was Fo-kia-lo; he, having heard the profound and excellent law, left his country and became a recluse. So also the demons Himapati and Vâtagiri, on the mountain Vibhâra, were subdued and converted. The Brahmakârin Prayantika, on the mountain Vagana, by the subtle meaning of half a gâtha, he convinced and caused to rejoice in faith; the village of Dânamati had one Kûtadanta, the head of the twice-born Brahmans; at this time he was sacrificing countless victims; Tathâgata by means converted him, and caused him to enter the true path. On Mount Bhatika a heavenly being of eminent distinction, whose name was Pañkasikha, receiving the law, attained Dhyâna; in the village of Vainushta, he converted the mother of the celebrated Nanda. In the town of Añkavari, he subdued the powerful mahâbâla spirit; Bhanabhadra, Sronadanta, the malevolent and powerful Nâgas, the king of the country and his harem, received together the true law, as he opened to them the gate of immortality. In the celebrated Viggi village, Kina and Sila, earnestly seeking to be born in heaven, he converted and made to enter the right path. The Angulimâla, in that village of Sumu, through the exhibition of his divine power, he converted and subdued; there was that noble's son, Purigîvana, rich in wealth and stores as Punavatî, directly he was brought to Buddha, accepting the doctrine, he became vastly liberal. So in that village of Padatti he converted the celebrated Patali, and also Patala, brothers, and both demons. In Bhidhavali there were two Brahmans, one called Great-age, the other Brahma-age. These by the power of a discourse he subdued, and caused them to attain knowledge of the true law; when he came to Vaisâlî, he converted all the Raksha demons, and the lion of the Likkhavis, and all the Likkhavis, Saka the Nirgrantha, all these he caused to attain the true law. Hama kinkhava had a demon Potala, and another Potalaka, these he converted. Again he came to Mount Ala, to convert the demon Alava, and a second called Kumâra, and a third Asidaka; then going back to Mount Gaga he converted the demon Kañgana, and Kamo the Yaksha, with the sister and son. Then coming to Benares, he converted the celebrated Katyâyana; then afterwards going, by his miraculous power, to Sruvala, he converted the merchants Davakin and Nikin, and received their sandalwood hall, exhaling its fragrant odors till now. Going then to Mahîvatî, he converted the Rishi Kapila, and the Muni remained with him; his foot stepping on the stone, the thousand-spoked twin-wheels appeared, which never could be erased. Then he came to the place Po-lo-na, where he converted the demon Po-lo-na; coming to the country of Mathurâ, he converted the demon Godama. In the Thurakusati he also converted Pindapâla; coming to the village of Vairañga, he converted the Brahman; in the village of Kalamasa, he converted Savasasin, and also that celebrated Agirivasa. Once more returning to the Srâvastî country, he converted the Gautamas Gâtisruna and Dakâtili; returning to the Kosala country, he converted the leaders of the heretics Vakrapali and all the Brahmakârins. Coming to Satavaka, in the forest retreat, he converted the heretical Rishis, and constrained them to enter the path of the Buddha Rishi. Coming to the country of Ayodhyâ, he converted the demon Nâgas; coming to the country of Kimbila, he converted the two Nâgarâgas; one called Kimbila, the other called Kâlaka. Again coming to the Vaggi country, he converted the Yaksha demon, whose name was Pisha, the father and mother of Nâgara, and the great noble also, he caused to believe gladly in the true law. Coming to the Kausârubî country, he converted Goshira, and the two Upasikâs, Vaguttarâ and her companion Uvari; and besides these, many others, one after the other. Coming to the country of Gandhâra he converted the Nâga Apalâla; thus in due order all these air-going, water-loving natures he completely converted and saved, as the sun when he shines upon some dark and sombre cave. At this time Devadatta, seeing the remarkable excellences of Buddha, conceived in his heart a jealous hatred; losing all power of thoughtful abstraction he ever plotted wicked schemes, to put a stop to the spread of the true law; ascending the Gridhrakûta mount he rolled down a stone to hit Buddha; the stone divided into two parts, each part passing on either side of him. Again, on the royal highway he loosed a drunken, vicious elephant. With his raised trunk trumpeting as thunder he ran, his maddened breath raising a cloud around him, his wild pace like the rushing wind, to be avoided more than the fierce tempest; his trunk and tusks and tail and feet, when touched only, brought instant death. Thus he ran through the streets and ways of Râgagriha, madly wounding and killing men; their corpses lay across the road, their brains and blood scattered afar. Then all the men and women filled with fear, remained indoors; throughout the city there was universal terror, only piteous shrieks and cries were heard; beyond the city men were running fast, hiding themselves in holes and dens. Tathâgata, with five hundred followers, at this time came towards the city; from tops of gates and every window, men, fearing for Buddha, begged him not to advance; Tathâgata, his heart composed and quiet, with perfect self-possession, thinking only on the sorrow caused by hate, his loving heart desiring to appease it, followed by guardian angel-nâgas, slowly approached the maddened elephant. The Bhikshus all deserted him, Ânanda only remained by his side; joined by every tie of duty, his steadfast nature did not shake or quail. The drunken elephant, savage and spiteful, beholding Buddha, came to himself at once, and bending, worshipped at his feet just as a mighty mountain falls to earth. With lotus hand the master pats his head, even as the moon lights up a flying cloud. And now, as he lay crouched before the master's feet, on his account he speaks some sacred words: "The elephant cannot hurt the mighty dragon, hard it is to fight with such a one; the elephant desiring so to do will in the end obtain no happy state of birth; deceived by lust, anger, and delusion, which are hard to conquer, but which Buddha has conquered. Now, then, this very day, give up this lust, this anger and delusion! You! swallowed up in sorrow's mud! if not now given up, they will increase yet more and grow." The elephant, hearing Buddha's words, escaped from drunkenness, rejoiced in heart; his mind and body both found rest, as one athirst finds joy who drinks of heavenly dew. The elephant being thus converted, the people around were filled with joy; they all raised a cry of wonder at the miracle, and brought their offerings of every kind. The scarcely-good arrived at middle-virtue, the middling-good passed to a higher grade, the unbelieving now became believers, those who believed were strengthened in their faith. Agâtasatru, mighty king, seeing how Buddha conquered the drunken elephant, was moved at heart by thoughts profound; then, filled with joy, he found a twofold growth of piety. Tathâgata, by exercise of virtue, exhibited all kinds of spiritual powers; thus he subdued and harmonized the minds of all, and caused them in due order to attain religious truth, and through the kingdom virtuous seeds were sown, as at the first when men began to live. But Devadatta, mad with rage, because he was ensnared by his own wickedness, at first by power miraculous able to fly, now fallen, dwells in lowest hell. The Lady Âmra Sees Buddha The lord of the world having finished his wide work of conversion conceived in himself a desire for Nirvana. Accordingly proceeding from the city of Râgagriha, he went on towards the town of Pâtaliputra. Having arrived there, he dwelt in the famous Pâtali ketiya. Now this town of Pâtaliputra is the frontier town of Magadha, defending the outskirts of the country. Ruling the country was a Brahman of wide renown and great learning in the scriptures; and there was also an overseer of the country, to take the omens of the land with respect to rest or calamity. At this time the king of Magadha sent to that officer of inspection a messenger, to warn and command him to raise fortifications in the neighborhood of the town for its security and protection. And now the lord of the world, as they were raising the fortifications, predicted that in consequence of the Devas and spirits who protected and kept the land, the place should continue strong and free from calamity or destruction. On this the heart of the overseer greatly rejoiced, and he made religious offerings to Buddha, the law, and the church. Buddha now leaving the city gate went on towards the river Ganges. The overseer, from his deep reverence for Buddha, named the gate through which the lord had passed the "Gautama gate." Meanwhile the people all by the side of the river Ganges went forth to pay reverence to the lord of the world. They prepared for him every kind of religious offering, and each one with his gaudy boat invited him to cross over. The lord of the world, considering the number of the boats, feared lest by an appearance of partiality in accepting one, he might hurt the minds of all the rest. Therefore in a moment, by his spiritual power, he transported himself and the great congregation across the river, leaving this shore he passed at once to that, signifying thereby the passage in the boat of wisdom from this world to Nirvâna: a boat large enough to transport all that lives to save the world, even as without a boat he crossed without hindrance the river Ganges. Then all the people on the bank of the river, with one voice, raised a rapturous shout, and all declared this ford should be called the Gautama ford. As the city gate is called the Gautama gate, so this Gautama ford is so known through ages; and shall be so called through generations to come. Then Tathâgata, going forward still, came to that celebrated Kuli village, where he preached and converted many; again he went on to the Nâdi village, where many deaths had occurred among the people. The friends of the dead then came to the lord and asked, "Where have our friends and relatives deceased, now gone to be born, after this life ended?" Buddha, knowing well the sequence of deeds, answered each according to his several needs. Then going forward to Vaisâlî, he located himself in the Âmrâ grove. The celebrated Lady Âmrâ, well affected to Buddha, went to that garden followed by her waiting women, whilst the children from the schools paid her respect. Thus with circumspection and self-restraint, her person lightly and plainly clothed, putting away all her ornamented robes and all adornments of scent and flowers, as a prudent and virtuous woman goes forth to perform her religious duties, so she went on, beautiful to look upon, like any Devî in appearance. Buddha seeing the lady in the distance approaching, spake thus to all the Bhikshus:-- "This woman is indeed exceedingly beautiful, able to fascinate the minds of the religious; now then, keep your recollection straight! let wisdom keep your mind in subjection! Better fall into the fierce tiger's mouth, or under the sharp knife of the executioner, than to dwell with a woman and excite in yourselves lustful thoughts. A woman is anxious to exhibit her form and shape, whether walking, standing, sitting, or sleeping. Even when represented as a picture, she desires most of all to set off the blandishments of her beauty, and thus to rob men of their steadfast heart! How then ought you to guard yourselves? By regarding her tears and her smiles as enemies, her stooping form, her hanging arms, and all her disentangled hair as toils designed to entrap man's heart. Then how much more should you suspect her studied, amorous beauty; when she displays her dainty outline, her richly ornamented form, and chatters gayly with the foolish man! Ah, then! what perturbation and what evil thoughts, not seeing underneath the horrid, tainted shape, the sorrows of impermanence, the impurity, the unreality! Considering these as the reality, all lustful thoughts die out; rightly considering these, within their several limits, not even an Apsaras would give you joy. But yet the power of lust is great with men, and is to be feared withal; take then the bow of earnest perseverance, and the sharp arrow points of wisdom, cover your head with the helmet of right-thought, and fight with fixed resolve against the five desires. Better far with red-hot iron pins bore out both your eyes, than encourage in yourselves lustful thoughts, or look upon a woman's form with such desires. Lust beclouding a man's heart, confused with woman's beauty, the mind is dazed, and at the end of life that man must fall into an 'evil way.' Fear then the sorrow of that 'evil way!' and harbor not the deceits of women. The senses not confined within due limits, and the objects of sense not limited as they ought to be, lustful and covetous thoughts grow up between the two, because the senses and their objects are unequally yoked. Just as when two ploughing oxen are yoked together to one halter and cross-bar, but not together pulling as they go, so is it when the senses and their objects are unequally matched. Therefore, I say, restrain the heart, give it no unbridled license." Thus Buddha, for the Bhikshus' sake, explained the law in various ways. And now that Âmrâ lady gradually approached the presence of the lord; seeing Buddha seated beneath a tree, lost in thought and wholly absorbed by it, she recollected that he had a great compassionate heart, and therefore she believed he would in pity receive her garden grove. With steadfast heart and joyful mien and rightly governed feelings, her outward form restrained, her heart composed, bowing her head at Buddha's feet, she took her place as the lord bade her, whilst he in sequence right declared the law:-- "Your heart, O lady! seems composed and quieted, your form without external ornaments; young in years and rich, you seem well-talented as you are beautiful. That one, so gifted, should by faith be able to receive the law of righteousness is, indeed, a rare thing in the world! The wisdom of a master derived from former births, enables him to accept the law with joy: this is not rare; but that a woman, weak of will, scant in wisdom, deeply immersed in love, should yet be able to delight in piety, this, indeed, is very rare. A man born in the world, by proper thought comes to delight in goodness, he recognizes the impermanence of wealth and beauty, and looks upon religion as his best ornament. He feels that this alone can remedy the ills of life and change the fate of young and old; the evil destiny that cramps another's life cannot affect him, living righteously; always removing that which excites desire, he is strong in the absence of desire; seeking to find, not what vain thoughts suggest, but that to which religion points him. Relying on external help, he has sorrow; self-reliant, there is strength and joy. But in the case of woman, from another comes the labor, and the nurture of another's child. Thus then should everyone consider well, and loathe and put away the form of woman." Âmrâ, the lady, hearing the law, rejoiced. Her wisdom strengthened, and still more enlightened, she was enabled to cast off desire, and of herself dissatisfied with woman's form, was freed from all polluting thoughts. Though still constrained to woman's form, filled with religious joy, she bowed at Buddha's feet and spoke: "Oh! may the lord, in deep compassion, receive from me, though ignorant, this offering, and so fulfil my earnest vow." Then Buddha knowing her sincerity, and for the good of all that lives, silently accepted her request, and caused in her full joy, in consequence; whilst all her friends attentive, grew in knowledge, and, after adoration, went back home. CHAPTER V By Spiritual Power Fixing His Term of Years At this time the great men among the Likkhavis, hearing that the lord of the world had entered their country and was located in the Âmrâ garden, went thither riding in their gaudy chariots with silken canopies, and clothed in gorgeous robes, both blue and red and yellow and white, each one with his own cognizance. Accompanied by their body guard surrounding them, they went; others prepared the road in front; and with their heavenly crowns and flower-bespangled robes they rode, richly dight with every kind of costly ornament. Their noble forms resplendent increased the glory of that garden grove; now taking off the five distinctive ornaments, alighting from their chariots, they advanced afoot. Slowly thus, with bated breath, their bodies reverent they advanced. Then they bowed down and worshipped Buddha's foot, and, a great multitude, they gathered round the lord, shining as the sun's disc, full of radiance. There was the lion Likkhavi, among the Likkhavis the senior, his noble form bold as the lion's, standing there with lion eyes, but without the lion's pride, taught by the Sâkya lion, who thus began: "Great and illustrious personages, famed as a tribe for grace and comeliness! put aside, I pray, the world's high thoughts, and now accept the abounding lustre of religious teaching. Wealth and beauty, scented flowers and ornaments like these, are not to be compared for grace with moral rectitude! Your land productive and in peaceful quiet--this is your great renown; but true gracefulness of body and a happy people depend upon the heart well-governed. Add but to this a reverent feeling for religion, then a people's fame is at its height! a fertile land and all the dwellers in it, as a united body, virtuous! To-day then learn this virtue, cherish with carefulness the people, lead them as a body in the right way of rectitude, even as the ox-king leads the way across the river-ford. If a man with earnest recollection ponder on things of this world and the next, he will consider how by right behavior right morals he prepares, as the result of merit, rest in either world. For all in this world will exceedingly revere him, his fame will spread abroad through every part, the virtuous will rejoice to call him friend, and the outflowings of his goodness will know no bounds forever. The precious gems found in the desert wilds are all from earth engendered; moral conduct, likewise, as the earth, is the great source of all that is good. By this, without the use of wings, we fly through space, we cross the river needing not a handy boat; but without this a man will find it hard indeed to cross the stream of sorrow or stay the rush of sorrow. As when a tree with lovely flowers and fruit, pierced by some sharp instrument, is hard to climb, so is it with the much-renowned for strength and beauty, who break through the laws of moral rectitude! Sitting upright in the royal palace, the heart of the king was grave and majestic; with a view to gain the merit of a pure and moral life, he became a convert of a great Rishi. With garments dyed and clad with hair, shaved, save one spiral knot, he led a hermit's life, but, as he did not rule himself with strict morality, he was immersed in suffering and sorrow. Each morn and eve he used the three ablutions, sacrificed to fire and practised strict austerity, let his body be in filth as the brute beast, passed through fire and water, dwelt amidst the craggy rocks, inhaled the wind, drank from the Ganges' stream, controlled himself with bitter fasts--but all! far short of moral rectitude. For though a man inure himself to live as any brute, he is not on that account a vessel of the righteous law; whilst he who breaks the laws of right behavior invites detraction, and is one no virtuous man can love; his heart is ever filled with boding fear, his evil name pursues him as a shadow. Having neither profit nor advantage in this world, how can he in the next world reap content? Therefore the wise man ought to practise pure behavior; passing through the wilderness of birth and death, pure conduct is to him a virtuous guide. From pure behavior comes self-power, which frees a man from many dangers; pure conduct, like a ladder, enables us to climb to heaven. Those who found themselves on right behavior, cut off the source of pain and grief; but they who by transgression destroy this mind, may mourn the loss of every virtuous principle. To gain this end first banish every ground of 'self'; this thought of 'self' shades every lofty aim, even as the ashes that conceal the fire, treading on which the foot is burned. Pride and indifference shroud this heart, too, as the sun is obscured by the piled-up clouds; supercilious thoughts root out all modesty of mind, and sorrow saps the strongest will. As age and disease waste youthful beauty, so pride of self destroys all virtue; the Devas and Asuras, thus from jealousy and envy, raised mutual strife. The loss of virtue and of merit which we mourn, proceeds from 'pride of self' throughout; and as I am a conqueror amid conquerors, so he who conquers self is one with me. He who little cares to conquer self, is but a foolish master; beauty, or earthly things, family renown and such things, all are utterly inconstant, and what is changeable can give no rest of interval. If in the end the law of entire destruction is exacted, what use is there in indolence and pride? Covetous desire is the greatest source of sorrow, appearing as a friend in secret 'tis our enemy. As a fierce fire excited from within a house, so is the fire of covetous desire: the burning flame of covetous desire is fiercer far than fire which burns the world. For fire may be put out by water in excess, but what can overpower the fire of lust? The fire which fiercely burns the desert grass dies out, and then the grass will grow again; but when the fire of lust burns up the heart, then how hard for true religion there to dwell! for lust seeks worldly pleasures, these pleasures add to an impure karman; by this evil karman a man falls into perdition, and so there is no greater enemy to man than lust. Lusting, man gives way to amorous indulgence, by this he is led to practise every kind of lustful longing; indulging thus, he gathers frequent sorrow. No greater evil is there than lust. Lust is a dire disease, and the foolish master stops the medicine of wisdom. The study of heretical books not leading to right thought, causes the lustful heart to increase and grow, for these books are not correct on the points of impermanency, the non-existence of self, and any object ground for 'self.' But a true and right apprehension through the power of wisdom, is effectual to destroy that false desire, and therefore our object should be to practise this true apprehension. Right apprehension once produced then there is deliverance from covetous desire, for a false estimate of excellency produces a covetous desire to excel, whilst a false view of demerit produces anger and regret; but the idea of excelling and also of inferiority (in the sense of demerit) both destroyed, the desire to excel and also anger (on account of inferiority) are destroyed. Anger! how it changes the comely face, how it destroys the loveliness of beauty! Anger dulls the brightness of the eye, chokes all desire to hear the principles of truth, cuts and divides the principle of family affection, impoverishes and weakens every worldly aim. Therefore let anger be subdued, yield not to the angry impulse; he who can hold his wild and angry heart is well entitled 'illustrious charioteer.' For men call such a one 'illustrious team-breaker' who can with bands restrain the unbroken steed; so anger not subdued, its fire unquenched, the sorrow of repentance burns like fire. A man who allows wild passion to arise within, himself first burns his heart, then after burning adds the wind thereto which ignites the fire again, or not, as the case may be. The pain of birth, old age, disease, and death, press heavily upon the world, but adding 'passion' to the score, what is this but to increase our foes when pressed by foes? But rather, seeing how the world is pressed by throngs of grief, we ought to encourage in us love, and as the world produces grief on grief, so should we add as antidotes unnumbered remedies." Tathâgata, illustrious in expedients, according to the disease, thus briefly spoke; even as a good physician in the world, according to the disease, prescribes his medicine. And now the Likkhavis, hearing the sermon preached by Buddha, arose forthwith and bowed at Buddha's feet, and joyfully they placed them on their heads. Then they asked both Buddha and the congregation on the morrow to accept their poor religious offerings. But Buddha told them that already Âmrâ had invited him. On this the Likkhavis, harboring thoughts of pride and disappointment, said: "Why should that one take away our profit?" But, knowing Buddha's heart to be impartial and fair, they once again regained their cheerfulness. Tathâgata, moreover, nobly seizing the occasion, appeasing them, produced within a joyful heart; and so subdued, their grandeur of appearance came again, as when a snake subdued by charms glistens with shining skin. And now, the night being passed, the signs of dawn appearing, Buddha and the great assembly go to the abode of Âmrâ, and having received her entertainment, they went on to the village of Pi-nau, and there he rested during the rainy season; the three months' rest being ended, again he returned to Vaisâli, and dwelt beside the Monkey Tank; sitting there in a shady grove, he shed a flood of glory from his person; aroused thereby, Mâra Pisuna came to the place where Buddha was, and with closed palms exhorted him thus: "Formerly, beside the Nairañganâ river, when you had accomplished your true and steadfast aim, you said, 'When I have done all I have to do, then will I pass at once to Nirvâna'; and now you have done all you have to do, you should, as then you said, pass to Nirvâna." Then Buddha spake to Pisuna: "The time of my complete deliverance is at hand, but let three months elapse, and I shall reach Nirvâna." Then Mâra, knowing that Tathâgata had fixed the time for his emancipation, his earnest wish being thus fulfilled, joyous returned to his abode in heaven. Tathâgata, seated beneath a tree, straightway was lost in ecstasy, and willingly rejected his allotted years, and by his spiritual power fixed the remnant of his life. On this, Tathâgata thus giving up his years, the great earth shook and quaked through all the limits of the universe; great flames of fire were seen around, the tops of Sumeru were shaken, from heaven there rained showers of flying stones, a whirling tempest rose on every side, the trees were rooted up and fell, heavenly music rose with plaintive notes, whilst angels for a time were joyless. Buddha rising from out his ecstasy, announced to all the world: "Now have I given up my term of years; I live henceforth by power of faith; my body like a broken chariot stands, no further cause of 'coming' or of 'going'; completely freed from the three worlds, I go enfranchised, as a chicken from its egg." The Differences of the Likkhavis The venerable Ânanda, seeing the earth shaking on every side, his heart was tearful and his hair erect; he asked the cause thereof of Buddha. Buddha replied: "Ânanda! I have fixed three months to end my life, the rest of life I utterly give up; this is the reason why the earth is greatly shaken." Ânanda, hearing the instruction of Buddha, was moved with pity and the tears flowed down his face, even as when an elephant of mighty strength shakes the sandal-wood tree. Thus was Ânanda shaken and his mind perturbed, whilst down his cheeks the tears, like drops of perfume, flowed; so much he loved the lord his master, so full of kindness was he, and, as yet, not freed from earthly thoughts. Thinking then on these four things alone, he gave his grief full liberty, nor could he master it, but said, "Now I hear the lord declare that he has fixed for good his time to die, my body fails, my strength is gone, my mind is dazed, my soul is all discordant, and all the words of truth forgotten; a wild deserted waste seems heaven and earth. Have pity! save me, master! perish not so soon! Perished with bitter cold, I chanced upon a fire--forthwith it disappeared. Wandering amid the wilds of grief and pain, deceived, confused, I lost my way--suddenly a wise and prudent guide encountered me, but hardly saved from my bewilderment, he once more vanished. Like some poor man treading through endless mud, weary and parched with thirst, longs for the water, suddenly he lights upon a cool refreshing lake, he hastens to it--lo! it dries before him. The deep blue, bright, refulgent eye, piercing through all the worlds, with wisdom brightens the dark gloom, the darkness for a moment is dispelled. As when the blade shoots through the yielding earth, the clouds collect and we await the welcome shower, then a fierce wind drives the big clouds away, and so with disappointed hope we watch the dried-up field! Deep darkness reigned for want of wisdom, the world of sentient creatures groped for light, Tathâgata lit up the lamp of wisdom, then suddenly extinguished it--ere he had brought it out." Buddha, hearing Ânanda speaking thus, grieved at his words, and pitying his distress, with soothing accents and with gentle presence spake with purpose to declare the one true law:-- "If men but knew their own nature, they would not dwell in sorrow; everything that lives, whate'er it be, all this is subject to destruction's law; I have already told you plainly, the law of things 'joined' is to 'separate'; the principle of kindness and of love is not abiding, 'tis better then to reject this pitiful and doting heart. All things around us bear the stamp of instant change; born, they perish; no self-sufficiency; those who would wish to keep them long, find in the end no room for doing so. If things around us could be kept for aye, and were not liable to change or separation, then this would be salvation! where then can this be sought? You, and all that lives, can seek in me this great deliverance! That which you may all attain I have already told you, and tell you, to the end. Why then should I preserve this body? The body of the excellent law shall long endure! I am resolved; I look for rest! This is the one thing needful. So do I now instruct all creatures, and as a guide, not seen before, I lead them; prepare yourselves to cast off consciousness, fix yourselves well in your own island. Those who are thus fixed mid-stream, with single aim and earnestness striving in the use of means, preparing quietly a quiet place, not moved by others' way of thinking, know well, such men are safe on the law's island. Fixed in contemplation, lighted by the lamp of wisdom, they have thus finally destroyed ignorance and gloom. Consider well the world's four bounds, and dare to seek for true religion only; forget 'yourself,' and every 'ground of self,' the bones, the nerves, the skin, the flesh, the mucus, the blood that flows through every vein; behold these things as constantly impure, what joy then can there be in such a body? every sensation born from cause, like the bubble floating on the water. The sorrow coming from the consciousness of birth and death and inconstancy, removes all thought of joy--the mind acquainted with the law of production, stability, and destruction, recognizes how again and once again things follow or succeed one another with no endurance. But thinking well about Nirvâna, the thought of endurance is forever dismissed; we see how the samskâras from causes have arisen, and how these aggregates will again dissolve, all of them impermanent. The foolish man conceives the idea of 'self,' the wise man sees there is no ground on which to build the idea of 'self,' thus through the world he rightly looks and well concludes, all, therefore, is but evil; the aggregate amassed by sorrow must perish in the end! if once confirmed in this conviction, that man perceives the truth. This body, too, of Buddha now existing soon will perish: the law is one and constant, and without exception." Buddha having delivered this excellent sermon, appeased the heart of Ânanda. Then all the Likkhavis, hearing the report, with fear and apprehension assembled in a body; devoid of their usual ornaments, they hastened to the place where Buddha was. Having saluted him according to custom, they stood on one side, wishing to ask him a question, but not being able to find words. Buddha, knowing well their heart, by way of remedy, in the right use of means, spake thus:-- "Now I perfectly understand that you have in your minds unusual thoughts, not referring to worldly matters, but wholly connected with subjects of religion; and now you wish to hear from me, what may be known respecting the report about my resolve to terminate my life, and my purpose to put an end to the repetition of birth. Impermanence is the nature of all that exists, constant change and restlessness its conditions; unfixed, unprofitable, without the marks of long endurance. In ancient days the Rishi kings, Vasishtha Rishi, Mândhâtri, the Kakravartin monarchs, and the rest, these and all others like them, the former conquerors, who lived with strength like Îsvara, these all have long ago perished, not one remains till now; the sun and moon, Sakra himself, and the great multitude of his attendants, will all, without exception, perish; there is not one that can for long endure; all the Buddhas of the past ages, numerous as the sands of the Ganges, by their wisdom enlightening the world, have all gone out as a lamp; all the Buddhas yet to come will also perish in the same way; why then should I alone be different? I too will pass into Nirvana; but as they prepared others for salvation, so now should you press forward in the path; Vaisâli may be glad indeed, if you should find the way of rest! The world, in truth, is void of help, the 'three worlds' not enough for joy--stay then the course of sorrow, by engendering a heart without desire. Give up for good the long and straggling way of life, press onward on the northern track, step by step advance along the upward road, as the sun skirts along the western mountains." At this time the Likkhavis, with saddened hearts, went back along the way; lifting their hands to heaven and sighing bitterly: "Alas! what sorrow this! His body like the pure gold mountain, the marks upon his person so majestic, ere long and like a towering crag he falls; not to live, then why not, 'not to love'? The powers of birth and death, weakened awhile, the lord Tathâgata, himself the fount of wisdom appeared, and now to give it up and disappear! without a saviour now, what check to sorrow? The world long time endured in darkness, and men were led by a false light along the way--when lo! the sun of wisdom rose; and now, again, it fades and dies--no warning given. Behold the whirling waves of ignorance engulfing all the world! Why is the bridge or raft of wisdom in a moment cut away? The loving and the great physician king came with remedies of wisdom, beyond all price, to heal the hurts and pains of men--why suddenly goes he away? The excellent and heavenly flag of love adorned with wisdom's blazonry, embroidered with the diamond heart, the world not satisfied with gazing on it, the glorious flag of heavenly worship! Why in a moment is it snapped? Why such misfortune for the world, when from the tide of constant revolutions a way of escape was opened--but now shut again! and there is no escape from weary sorrow! Tathâgata, possessed of fond and loving heart, now steels himself and goes away; he holds his heart so patient and so loving, and, like the Wai-ka-ni flower, with thoughts cast down, irresolute and tardy, he goes depressed along the road. Or like a man fresh from a loved one's grave, the funeral past and the last farewell taken, comes back with anxious look." Parinirvâna When Buddha went towards the place of his Nirvâna, the city of Vaisâli was as if deserted, as when upon a dark and cloudy night the moon and stars withdraw their shining. The land that heretofore had peace, was now afflicted and distressed; as when a loving father dies, the orphan daughter yields to constant grief. Her personal grace unheeded, her clever skill but lightly thought of, with stammering lips she finds expression for her thoughts; how poor her brilliant wit and wisdom now! Her spiritual powers ill regulated without attractiveness, her loving heart faint and fickle, exalted high but without strength, and all her native grace neglected; such was the case at Vaisâli; all outward show now fallen, like autumn verdure in the fields bereft of water, withered up and dry; or like the smoke of a half-smouldering fire, or like those who having food before them yet forget to eat, so these forgot their common household duties, and nought prepared they for the day's emergencies. Thinking thus on Buddha, lost in deep reflection, silent they sat nor spoke a word. And now the lion Likkhavis manfully enduring their great sorrow, with flowing tears and doleful sighs, signifying thereby their love of kindred, destroyed forever all their books of heresy, to show their firm adherence to the true law. Having put down all heresy, they left it once for all; severed from the world and the world's doctrines, convinced that non-continuance was the great disease. Moreover thus they thought: "The lord of men now enters the great quiet place (Nirvâna), and we are left without support, and with no saviour; the highest lord of 'means' is now about to extinguish all his glory in the final place of death. Now we indeed have lost our steadfast will, as fire deprived of fuel; greatly to be pitied is the world, now that the lord gives up his world-protecting office, even as a man bereft of spiritual power throughout the world is greatly pitied. Oppressed by heat we seek the cooling lake, nipped by the cold we use the fire; but in a moment all is lost, the world is left without resource; the excellent law, indeed, is left, to frame the world anew, as a metal-caster frames anew his work. The world has lost its master-guide, and, men bereaved of him, the way is lost; old age, disease, and death, self-sufficient, now that the road is missed, pervade the world without a way. What is there now throughout the world equal to overcome the springs of these great sorrows? The great cloud's rain alone can make the raging and excessive fire, that burns the world, go out. So only he can make the raging fire of covetous desire go out; and now he, the skilful maker of comparisons, has firmly fixed his mind to leave the world! And why, again, is the sword of wisdom, ever ready to be used for an uninvited friend, only like the draught of wine given to him about to undergo the torture and to die? Deluded by false knowledge the mass of living things are only born to die again; as the sharp knife divides the wood, so constant change divides the world. The gloom of ignorance like the deep water, lust like the rolling billow, sorrow like the floating bubbles, false views like the Makara fish, amidst all these the ship of wisdom only can carry us across the mighty sea. The mass of ills are like the flowers of the sorrow-tree, old age and all its griefs, the tangled boughs; death the tree's tap-root, deeds done in life the buds, the diamond sword of wisdom only strong enough to cut down the mundane tree! Ignorance the burning-glass, covetous desire the scorching rays, the objects of the five desires the dry grass, wisdom alone the water to put out the fire. The perfect law, surpassing every law, having destroyed the gloom of ignorance, we see the straight road leading to quietness and rest, the end of every grief and sorrow. And now the loving one, converting men, impartial in his thoughts to friend or foe, the all-knowing, perfectly instructed, even he is going to leave the world! He with his soft and finely modulated voice, his compact body and broad shoulders, he, the great Rishi, ends his life! Who then can claim exemption? Enlightened, now he quickly passes hence! let us therefore seek with earnestness the truth, even as a man meets with the stream beside the road, then drinks and passes on. Inconstancy, this is the dreaded enemy--the universal destroyer--sparing neither rich nor poor; rightly perceiving this and keeping it in mind, this man, though sleeping, yet is the only ever-wakeful." Thus the Likkhavi lions, ever mindful of the Buddha's wisdom, disquieted with the pain of birth and death, sighed forth their fond remembrance of the man-lion. Retaining in their minds no love of worldly things, aiming to rise above the power of every lustful quality, subduing in their hearts the thought of light or trivial matters, training their thoughts to seek the quiet, peaceful place; diligently practising the rules of unselfish, charitable conduct; putting away all listlessness, they found their joy in quietness and seclusion, meditating only on religious truth. And now the all-wise, turning his body round with a lion-turn, once more gazed upon Vaisâli, and uttered this farewell verse:-- "Now this, the last time this, I leave Vaisâli--the land where heroes live and flourish! Now am I going to die." Then gradually advancing, stage by stage he came to Bhoga-nagara, and there he rested in the Sâla grove, where he instructed all his followers in the precepts:-- "Now having gone on high I shall enter on Nirvana: ye must rely upon the law--this is your highest, strongest, vantage ground. What is not found in Sûtra, or what disagrees with rules of Vinaya, opposing the one true system of my doctrine, this must not be held by you. What opposes Dharma, what opposes Vinaya, or what is contrary to my words, this is the result of ignorance: ye must not hold such doctrine, but with haste reject it. Receiving that which has been said aright, this is not subversive of true doctrine, this is what I have said, as the Dharma and Vinaya say. Accepting that which I, the law, and the Vinaya declare, this is to be believed. But words which neither I, the law, nor the Vinaya declare, these are not to be believed. Not gathering the true and hidden meaning, but closely holding to the letter, this is the way of foolish teachers, but contrary to my doctrine and a false way of teaching. Not separating the true from false, accepting in the dark without discrimination, is like a shop where gold and its alloys are sold together, justly condemned by all the world. The foolish masters, practising the ways of superficial wisdom, grasp not the meaning of the truth; but to receive the law as it explains itself, this is to accept the highest mode of exposition. Ye ought, therefore, thus to investigate true principles, to consider well the true law and the Vinaya, even as the goldsmith does who melts and strikes and then selects the true. Not to know the Sûtras and the Sâstras, this is to be devoid of wisdom; not saying properly that which is proper, is like doing that which is not fit to see. Let all be done in right and proper order, according as the meaning of the sentence guides, for he who grasps a sword unskilfully, does but inflict a wound upon his hand. Not skilfully to handle words and sentences, the meaning then is hard to know; as in the night-time travelling and seeking for a house, if all be dark within, how difficult to find. Losing the meaning, then the law is disregarded, disregarding the law the mind becomes confused; therefore every wise and prudent master neglects not to discover the true and faithful meaning." Having spoken these words respecting the precepts of religion, he advanced to the town of Pâvâ, where all the Mallas prepared for him religious offerings of every kind. At this time a certain householder's son whose name was Kunda, invited Buddha to his house, and there he gave him, as an offering, his very last repast. Having partaken of it and declared the law, he onward went to the town of Kusi, crossing the river Tsae-kieuh and the Hiranyavati. Then in that Sâla grove, a place of quiet and seclusion, he took his seat: entering the golden river he bathed his body, in appearance like a golden mountain. Then he spake his bidding thus to Ânanda: "Between those twin Sâla trees, sweeping and watering, make a clean space, and then arrange my sitting-mat. At midnight coming, I shall die." Ânanda hearing the bidding of his master, his breath was choked with heart-sadness; but going and weeping he obeyed the instruction, and spreading out the mat he came forthwith back to his master and acquainted him. Tathâgata having lain down with his head towards the north and on his right side, slept thus. Resting upon his hand as on a pillow with his feet crossed, even as a lion-king; all grief is passed, his last-born body from this one sleep shall never rise. His followers round him, in a circle gathered, sigh dolefully: "The eye of the world is now put out!" The wind is hushed, the forest streams are silent, no voice is heard of bird or beast. The trees sweat out large flowing drops, flowers and leaves out of season singly fall, whilst men and Devas, not yet free from desire, are filled with overwhelming fear. Thus were they like men wandering through the arid desert, the road full dangerous, who fail to reach the longed-for hamlet; full of fear they go on still, dreading they might not find it, their heart borne down with fear they faint and droop. And now Tathâgata, aroused from sleep, addressed Ânanda thus: "Go! tell the Mallas, the time of my decease is come; they, if they see me not, will ever grieve and suffer deep regret." Ânanda listening to the bidding of his master, weeping went along the road. And then he told those Mallas all--"The lord is near to death." The Mallas hearing it, were filled with great, excessive grief. The men and women hurrying forth, bewailing as they went, came to the spot where Buddha was; with garments torn and hair dishevelled, covered with dust and sweat they came. With piteous cries they reached the grove, as when a Deva's day of merit comes to an end, so did they bow weeping and adoring at the feet of Buddha, grieving to behold his failing strength. Tathâgata, composed and quiet, spake: "Grieve not! the time is one for joy; no call for sorrow or for anguish here; that which for ages I have aimed at, now am I just about to obtain; delivered now from the narrow bounds of sense, I go to the place of never-ending rest and peace. I leave these things, earth, water, fire, and air, to rest secure where neither birth nor death can come. Eternally delivered there from grief, oh! tell me! why should I be sorrowful? Of yore on Sirsha's mount, I longed to rid me of this body, but to fulfil my destiny I have remained till now with men in the world; I have kept this sickly, crumbling body, as dwelling with a poisonous snake; but now I am come to the great resting-place, all springs of sorrow now forever stopped. No more shall I receive a body, all future sorrow now forever done away; it is not meet for you, on my account, for evermore, to encourage any anxious fear." The Mallas hearing Buddha's words, that he was now about to die, their minds confused, their eyes bedimmed, as if they saw before them nought but blackness, with hands conjoined, spake thus to Buddha: "Buddha is leaving now the pain of birth and death, and entering on the eternal joy of rest; doubtless we ought to rejoice thereat. Even as when a house is burnt a man rejoices if his friends are saved from out the flames; the gods! perhaps they rejoice--then how much more should men! But--when Tathâgata has gone and living things no more may see him, eternally cut off from safety and deliverance--in thought of this we grieve and sorrow. Like as a band of merchants crossing with careful steps a desert, with only a single guide, suddenly he dies! Those merchants now without a protector, how can they but lament! The present age, coming to know their true case, has found the omniscient, and looked to him, but yet has not obtained the final conquest; how will the world deride! Even as it would laugh at one who, walking o'er a mountain full of treasure, yet ignorant thereof, hugs still the pain of poverty." So spake the Mallas, and with tearful words excuse themselves to Buddha, even as an only child pleads piteously before a loving father. Buddha then, with speech most excellent, exhibited and declared the highest principle of truth, and thus addressed the Mallas:-- "In truth, 'tis as you say; seeking the way, you must exert yourselves and strive with diligence--it is not enough to have seen me! Walk, as I have commanded you; get rid of all the tangled net of sorrow; walk in the way with steadfast aim; 'tis not from seeing me this comes--even as a sick man depending on the healing power of medicine, gets rid of all his ailments easily without beholding the physician. He who does not do what I command sees me in vain, this brings no profit; whilst he who lives far off from where I am, and yet walks righteously, is ever near me! A man may dwell beside me, and yet, being disobedient, be far away from me. Keep your heart carefully--give not place to listlessness! earnestly practise every good work. Man born in this world is pressed by all the sorrows of the long career, ceaselessly troubled--without a moment's rest, as any lamp blown by the wind!" The Mallas all, hearing Buddha's loving instruction, inwardly composed, restrained their tears, and, firmly self-possessed, returned. Mahâparinirvâna At this time there was a Brahmakârin whose name was Su-po-to-lo; he was well-known for his virtuous qualities, leading a pure life according to the rules of morality, and protecting all living things. When young he had adopted heretical views, and become a recluse among unbelievers--this one, wishing to see the lord, spake to Ânanda thus:-- "I hear that the system of Tathâgata is of a singular character and very profound, and that he has reached the highest wisdom in the world, the first of all horse-tamers. I hear moreover that he is now about to die, it will be difficult indeed to meet with him again, and difficult to see those who have seen him with difficulty, even as it is to catch in a mirror the reflection of the moon. I now desire respectfully to see him the greatest and most virtuous guide of men, because I seek to escape this mass of sorrow and reach the other shore of birth and death. The sun of Buddha now about to quench its rays, O! let me for a moment gaze upon him." The feelings of Ânanda now were much affected, thinking that this request was made with a view to controversy, or that he felt an inward joy because the lord was on the eve of death. He was not willing therefore to permit the interview with Buddha. Buddha, knowing the man's earnest desire and that he was a vessel fit for true religion, therefore addressed Ânanda thus: "Permit that heretic to advance; I was born to save mankind, make no hindrance therefore, or excuse!" Subhadra, hearing this, was overjoyed at heart, and his religious feelings were much enlarged, as with increased reverence he advanced to Buddha's presence. Then, as the occasion required, he spoke becoming words and with politeness made his salutation, his features pleasing and with hands conjoined he said:-- "Now I desire to ask somewhat from thee; the world has many teachers of religion, those who know the law as I am myself; but I hear that Buddha has attained a way which is the end of all complete emancipation. O that you would, on my account, briefly explain your method, moisten my empty, thirsty soul! not with a view to controversy or from a desire to gain the mastery, but with sincerity I ask you so to do." Then Buddha, for the Brahmakârin's sake, in brief recounted the eight "right ways"--on hearing which, his empty soul accepted it, as one deceived accepts direction in the right road. Perceiving now, he knew that what he had before perceived was not the final way of salvation, but now he felt he had attained what he had not before attained, and so he gave up and forsook his books of heresy. Moreover, now he rejected the gloomy hindrances of doubt, reflecting how by his former practices, mixed up with anger, hate, and ignorance, he had long cherished no real joy. For if, he argued, the ways of lust and hate and ignorance are able to produce a virtuous karman, then "hearing much" and "persevering wisdom," these, too, are born from lust, which cannot be. But if a man is able to cut down hate and ignorance, then also he puts off all consequences of works, and these being finally destroyed, this is complete emancipation. Those thus freed from works are likewise freed from subtle questionings, such as what the world says "that all things, everywhere, possess a self-nature." But if this be the case and therefore lust, hate, and ignorance, possess a self-implanted nature, then this nature must inhere in them; what then means the word "deliverance"? For even if we rightly cause the overthrow of hate and ignorance, yet if lust remains, then there is a return of birth; even as water, cold in its nature, may by fire be heated, but when the fire goes out then it becomes cold again, because this is its constant nature; so we may ever know that the nature which lust has is permanent, and neither hearing wisdom nor perseverance can alter it. Neither capable of increase or diminution, how can there be deliverance? I held aforetime that birth and death resulted thus, from their own innate nature; but now I see that such a belief excludes deliverance; for what is born by nature must endure so, what end can such things have? Just as a burning lamp cannot but give its light; the way of Buddha is the only true one, that lust, as the root-cause, brings forth the things that live; destroy this lust then there is Nirvana; the cause destroyed then the fruit is not produced. I formerly maintained that "I" was a distinct entity, not seeing that it has no maker. But now I hear the right doctrine preached by Buddha, there is no "self" in all the world, for all things are produced by cause, and therefore there is no creator. If then sorrow is produced by cause, the cause may likewise be destroyed; for if the world is cause-produced, then is the view correct, that by destruction of the cause, there is an end. The cause destroyed, the world brought to an end, there is no room for such a thought as permanence, and therefore all my former views are "done away," and so he deeply "saw" the true doctrine taught by Buddha. Because of seeds well sown in former times, he was enabled thus to understand the law on hearing it; thus he reached the good and perfect state of quietness, the peaceful, never-ending place of rest. His heart expanding to receive the truth, he gazed with earnest look on Buddha as he slept, nor could he bear to see Tathâgata depart and die; "ere yet," he said, "Buddha shall reach the term I will myself first leave the world;" and then with hands close joined, retiring from the holy form, he took his seat apart, and sat composed and firm. Then giving up his life, he reached Nirvâna, as when the rain puts out a little fire. Then Buddha spake to all his followers: "This my very last disciple has now attained Nirvâna, cherish him properly." Then Buddha, the first night watch passed, the moon bright shining and all the stars clear in their lustre, the quiet grove without a sound, moved by his great compassionate heart, declared to his disciples this his bequeathed precepts: "After my Nirvâna, ye ought to reverence and obey the Pratimoksha, as your master, a shining lamp in the dark night, or as a great jewel treasured by a poor man. These injunctions I have ever given, these you ought to obey and follow carefully, and treat in no way different from myself. Keep pure your body, words, and conduct, put from you all concerns of daily life, lands, houses, cattle, storing wealth or hoarding grain. All these should be avoided as we avoid a fiery pit; sowing the land, cutting down shrubs, healing of wounds or the practice of medicine, star-gazing and astrology, forecasting lucky or unfortunate events by signs, prognosticating good or evil, all these are things forbidden. Keeping the body temperate, eat at proper times; receive no mission as a go-between; compound no philteries; abhor dissimulation; follow right doctrine, and be kind to all that lives; receive in moderation what is given; receive but hoard not up; these are, in brief, my spoken precepts. These form the groundwork of my rules, these also are the ground of full emancipation. Enabled thus to live this is rightly to receive all other things. This is true wisdom which embraces all, this is the way to attain the end; this code of rules, therefore, ye should hold and keep, and never let it slip or be destroyed. For when pure rules of conduct are observed then there is true religion; without these, virtue languishes; found yourselves therefore well on these my precepts; grounded thus in rules of purity, the springs of feeling will be well controlled, even as the well-instructed cow-herd guides well his cattle. Ill-governed feelings, like the horse, run wild through all the six domains of sense, bringing upon us in the present world unhappiness, and in the next, birth in an evil way. So, like the horse ill-broken, these land us in the ditch; therefore the wise and prudent man will not allow his senses license. For these senses are, indeed, our greatest foes, causes of misery; for men enamoured thus by sensuous things cause all their miseries to recur. Destructive as a poisonous snake, or like a savage tiger, or like a raging fire, the greatest evil in the world, he who is wise, is freed from fear of these. But what he fears is only this--a light and trivial heart, which drags a man to future misery--just for a little sip of pleasure, not looking at the yawning gulf before us; like the wild elephant freed from the iron curb, or like the ape that has regained the forest trees, such is the light and trivial heart; the wise man should restrain and hold it therefore. Letting the heart go loose without restraint, that man shall not attain Nirvâna; therefore we ought to hold the heart in check, and go apart from men and seek a quiet resting-place. Know when to eat and the right measure; and so with reference to the rules of clothing and of medicine; take care you do not by the food you take, encourage in yourselves a covetous or an angry mind. Eat your food to satisfy your hunger and drink to satisfy your thirst, as we repair an old or broken chariot, or like the butterfly that sips the flower destroying not its fragrance or its texture. The Bhikshu, in begging food, should beware of injuring the faithful mind of another; if a man opens his heart in charity, think not about his capabilities, for 'tis not well to calculate too closely the strength of the ox, lest by loading him beyond his strength you cause him injury. At morning, noon, and night, successively, store up good works. During the first and after-watch at night be not overpowered by sleep, but in the middle watch, with heart composed, take sleep and rest--be thoughtful towards the dawn of day. Sleep not the whole night through, making the body and the life relaxed and feeble; think! when the fire shall burn the body always, what length of sleep will then be possible? For when the hateful brood of sorrow rising through space, with all its attendant horrors, meeting the mind o'erwhelmed by sleep and death, shall seize its prey, who then shall waken it? "The poisonous snake dwelling within a house can be enticed away by proper charms, so the black toad that dwells within his heart, the early waker disenchants and banishes. He who sleeps on heedlessly without plan, this man has no modesty; but modesty is like a beauteous robe, or like the curb that guides the elephant. Modest behavior keeps the heart composed, without it every virtuous root will die. Who has this modesty, the world applauds; without it, he is but as any beast. If a man with a sharp sword should cut the body bit by bit, let not an angry thought, or of resentment, rise, and let the mouth speak no ill word. Your evil thoughts and evil words but hurt yourself and not another; nothing so full of victory as patience, though your body suffer the pain of mutilation. For recollect that he who has this patience cannot be overcome, his strength being so firm; therefore give not way to anger or evil words towards men in power. Anger and hate destroy the true law; and they destroy dignity and beauty of body; as when one dies we lose our name for beauty, so the fire of anger itself burns up the heart. Anger is foe to all religious merit, he who loves virtue let him not be passionate; the layman who is angry when oppressed by many sorrows is not wondered at. But he who has 'left his home' indulging anger, this is indeed opposed to principle, as if in frozen water there were found the heat of fire. If indolence arises in your heart, then with your own hand smooth down your head, shave off your hair, and clad in sombre garments, in your hand holding the begging-pot, go ask for food; on every side the living perish, what room for indolence? the worldly man, relying on his substance or his family, indulging in indolence, is wrong; how much more the religious man, whose purpose is to seek the way of rescue, who encourages within an indolent mind; this surely is impossible! "Crookedness and straightness are in their nature opposite and cannot dwell together more than frost and fire; for one who has become religious, and practises the way of straight behavior, a false and crooked way of speech is not becoming. False and flattering speech is like the magician's art; but he who ponders on religion cannot speak falsely. To 'covet much,' brings sorrow; desiring little, there is rest and peace. To procure rest, there must be small desire--much more in case of those who seek salvation. The niggard dreads the much-seeking man lest he should filch away his property, but he who loves to give has also fear, lest he should not possess enough to give; therefore we ought to encourage small desire, that we may have to give to him who wants, without such fear. From this desiring-little-mind we find the way of true deliverance; desiring true deliverance we ought to practise knowing-enough contentment. "A contented mind is always joyful, but joy like this is but religion; the rich and poor alike, having contentment, enjoy perpetual rest. The ill-contented man, though he be born to heavenly joys, because he is not contented would ever have a mind burned up by the fire of sorrow. The rich, without contentment, endures the pain of poverty; though poor, if yet he be contented, then he is rich indeed! That ill-contented man, the bounds of the five desires extending further still, becomes insatiable in his requirements, and so through the long night of life gathers increasing sorrow. Without cessation thus he cherishes his careful plans, whilst he who lives contented, freed from anxious thoughts about relationships, his heart is ever peaceful and at rest. And so because he rests and is at peace within, the gods and men revere and do him service. Therefore we ought to put away all cares about relationship. "For like a solitary desert tree in which the birds and monkeys gather, so is it when we are cumbered much with family associations; through the long night we gather many sorrows. Many dependents are like the many bands that bind us, or like the old elephant that struggles in the mud. By diligent perseverance a man may get much profit; therefore night and day men ought with ceaseless effort to exert themselves; the tiny streams that trickle down the mountain slopes by always flowing eat away the rock. If we use not earnest diligence in drilling wood in wood for fire, we shall not obtain the spark, so ought we to be diligent and persevere, as the skilful master drills the wood for fire. A 'virtuous friend' though he be gentle is not to be compared with right reflection--right thought kept well in the mind, no evil thing can ever enter there. "Wherefore those who practise a religious life should always think about 'the body'; if thought upon one's self be absent, then all virtue dies. For as the champion warrior relies for victory upon his armor's strength, so 'right thought' is like a strong cuirass, able to withstand the six sense-robbers. Right faith enwraps the enlightened heart, so that a man perceives the world throughout is liable to birth and death; therefore the religious man should practise faith. "Having found peace in faith, we put an end to all the mass of sorrows, wisdom then can enlighten us, and so we put away the rules by which we acquire knowledge by the senses. By inward thought and right consideration following with gladness the directions of the 'true law,' this is the way in which both laymen of the world and men who have left their homes should walk. "Across the sea of birth and death, 'wisdom' is the handy bark; 'wisdom' is the shining lamp that lightens up the dark and gloomy world. 'Wisdom' is the grateful medicine for all the defiling ills of life; 'wisdom' is the axe wherewith to level all the tangled forest trees of sorrow. 'Wisdom' is the bridge that spans the rushing stream of ignorance and lust--therefore, in every way, by thought and right attention, a man should diligently inure himself to engender wisdom. Having acquired the threefold wisdom, then, though blind, the eye of wisdom sees throughout; but without wisdom the mind is poor and insincere; such things cannot suit the man who has left his home. "Wherefore let the enlightened man lay well to heart that false and fruitless things become him not, and let him strive with single mind for that pure joy which can be found alone in perfect rest and quietude. "Above all things be not careless, for carelessness is the chief foe of virtue; if a man avoid this fault he may be born where Sakra-râga dwells. He who gives way to carelessness of mind must have his lot where the Asuras dwell. Thus have I done my task, my fitting task, in setting forth the way of quietude, the proof of love. On your parts be diligent! with virtuous purpose practise well these rules, in quiet solitude of desert hermitage nourish and cherish a still and peaceful heart. Exert yourselves to the utmost, give no place to remissness, for as in worldly matters when the considerate physician prescribes fit medicine for the disease he has detected, should the sick man neglect to use it, this cannot be the physician's fault, so I have told you the truth, and set before you this the one and level road. Hearing my words and not with care obeying them, this is not the fault of him who speaks; if there be anything not clearly understood in the principles of the 'four truths,' you now may ask me, freely; let not your inward thoughts be longer hid." The lord in mercy thus instructing them, the whole assembly remained silent. Then Anuruddha, observing that the great congregation continued silent and expressed no doubt, with closed hands thus spake to Buddha:-- "The moon may be warm, the sun's rays be cool, the air be still, the earth's nature mobile; these four things, though yet unheard of in the world, may happen; but this assembly never can have doubt about the principles of sorrow, accumulation, destruction, and the incontrovertible truths, as declared by the lord. But because the lord is going to die, we all have sorrow; and we cannot raise our thoughts to the high theme of the lord's preaching. Perhaps some fresh disciple, whose feelings are yet not entirely freed from other influences might doubt; but we, who now have heard this tender, sorrowful discourse, have altogether freed ourselves from doubt. Passed the sea of birth and death, without desire, with nought to seek, we only know how much we love, and, grieving, ask why Buddha dies so quickly?" Buddha regarding Anuruddha, perceiving how his words were full of bitterness, again with loving heart, appeasing him, replied:-- "In the beginning things were fixed, in the end again they separate; different combinations cause other substances, for there is no uniform and constant principle in nature. But when all mutual purposes be answered, what then shall chaos and creation do! the gods and men alike that should be saved, shall all have been completely saved! Ye then! my followers, who know so well the perfect law, remember! the end must come; give not way again to sorrow! "Use diligently the appointed means; aim to reach the home where separation cannot come; I have lit the lamp of wisdom, its rays alone can drive away the gloom that shrouds the world. The world is not forever fixed! Ye should rejoice therefore! as when a friend, afflicted grievously, his sickness healed, escapes from pain. For I have put away this painful vessel, I have stemmed the flowing sea of birth and death, free forever now, from pain! for this you should exult with joy! Now guard yourselves aright, let there be no remissness! that which exists will all return to nothingness! and now I die. From this time forth my words are done, this is my very last instruction." Then entering the Samâdhi of the first Dhyâna, he went successively through all the nine in a direct order; then inversely he returned throughout and entered on the first, and then from the first he raised himself and entered on the fourth. Leaving the state of Samâdhi, his soul without a resting-place, forthwith he reached Nirvâna. And then, as Buddha died, the great earth quaked throughout. In space, on every hand, was fire like rain, no fuel, self-consuming. And so from out the earth great flames arose on every side. Thus up to the heavenly mansions flames burst forth; the crash of thunder shook the heavens and earth, rolling along the mountains and the valleys, even as when the Devas and Asuras fight with sound of drums and mutual conflict. A wind tempestuous from the four bounds of earth arose--whilst from the crags and hills, dust and ashes fell like rain. The sun and moon withdrew their shining; the peaceful streams on every side were torrent-swollen; the sturdy forests shook like aspen leaves, whilst flowers and leaves untimely fell around, like scattered rain. The flying dragons, carried on pitchy clouds, wept down their tears; the four kings and their associates, moved by pity, forgot their works of charity. The pure Devas came to earth from heaven, halting mid-air they looked upon the changeful scene, not sorrowing, not rejoicing. But yet they sighed to think of the world, heedless of its sacred teacher, hastening to destruction. The eightfold heavenly spirits, on every side filled space: cast down at heart and grieving, they scattered flowers as offerings. Only Mâra-râga rejoiced, and struck up sounds of music in his exultation. Whilst Gambudvipa shorn of its glory, seemed to grieve as when the mountain tops fall down to earth, or like the great elephant robbed of its tusks, or like the ox-king spoiled of his horns; or heaven without the sun and moon, or as the lily beaten by the hail; thus was the world bereaved when Buddha died! Praising Nirvâna At this time there was a Devaputra, riding on his thousand white-swan palace in the midst of space, who beheld the Parinirvâna of Buddha. This one, for the universal benefit of the Deva assembly, sounded forth at large these verses on impermanence:-- "Impermanency is the nature of all things, quickly born, they quickly die. With birth there comes the rush of sorrows, only in Nirvâna is there joy. The accumulated fuel heaped up by the power of karman, this the fire of wisdom alone can consume. Though the fame of our deeds reach up to heaven as smoke, yet in time the rains which descend will extinguish all, as the fire that rages at the kalpa's end is put out by the judgment of water." Again there was a Brahma-Rishi-deva, like a most exalted Rishi, dwelling in heaven, possessed of superior happiness, with no taint in his bliss, who thus sighed forth his praises of Tathâgata's Nirvâna, with his mind fixed in abstraction as he spoke: "Looking through all the conditions of life, from first to last nought is free from destruction. But the incomparable seer dwelling in the world, thoroughly acquainted with the highest truth, whose wisdom grasps that which is beyond the world's ken, he it is who can save the worldly-dwellers. He it is who can provide lasting escape from the destructive power of impermanence. But, alas! through the wide world, all that lives is sunk in unbelief." At this time Anuruddha, "not stopped" by the world, "not stopped" from being delivered, the stream of birth and death forever "stopped," sighed forth the praises of Tathâgata's Nirvâna:-- "All living things completely blind and dark! the mass of deeds all perishing, even as the fleeting cloud-pile! Quickly arising and as quickly perishing! the wise man holds not to such a refuge, for the diamond mace of inconstancy can overturn the mountain of the Rishi hermit. How despicable and how weak the world! doomed to destruction, without strength! Impermanence, like the fierce lion, can even spoil the Nâga-elephant-great-Rishi. Only the diamond curtain of Tathâgata can overwhelm inconstancy! How much more should those not yet delivered from desire, fear and dread its power? From the six seeds there grows one sprout, one kind of water from the rain, the origin of the four points is far removed: five kinds of fruit from the two 'Koo'--the three periods, past, present, future, are but one in substance; the Muni-great-elephant plucks up the great tree of sorrow, and yet he cannot avoid the power of impermanence. For like the crested bird delights within the pool to seize the poisonous snake, but when from sudden drought he is left in the dry pool, he dies; or as the prancing steed advances fearlessly to battle, but when the fight has passed goes back subdued and quiet; or as the raging fire burns with the fuel, but when the fuel is done, expires; so is it with Tathâgata, his task accomplished he returns to find his refuge in Nirvâna: just as the shining of the radiant moon sheds everywhere its light and drives away the gloom, all creatures grateful for its light, it disappears concealed by Sumeru; such is the case with Tathâgata, the brightness of his wisdom lit up the gloomy darkness, and for the good of all that lives drove it away, when suddenly it disappears behind the mountain of Nirvâna. The splendor of his fame throughout the world diffused, had banished all obscurity, but like the stream that ever flows, it rests not with us; the illustrious charioteer with his seven prancing steeds flies through the host and disappears. "The bright-rayed Sûrya-deva, entering the Yen-tsz' cave, was, with the moon, surrounded with fivefold barriers; 'all things that live,' deprived of light, present their offerings to heaven; but from their sacrifice nought but the blackened smoke ascends; thus it is with Tathâgata, his glory hidden, the world has lost its light. Rare was the expectancy of grateful love that filled the heart of all that lives; that love, reached its full limit, then was left to perish! The cords of sorrow all removed, we found the true and only way; but now he leaves the tangled mesh of life, and enters on the quiet place! His spirit mounting through space, he leaves the sorrow-bearing vessel of his body! the gloom of doubt and the great darkness all dispelled, by the bright rays of wisdom! The earthy soil of sorrow's dust his wisdom's water purifies! no more, no more, returns he here! forever gone to the place of rest! "The power of birth and death destroyed, the world instructed in the highest doctrine! he bids the world rejoice in knowledge of his law, and gives to all the benefit of wisdom! Giving complete rest to the world, the virtuous streams flow forth! his fame known throughout the world, shines still with increased splendor! How great his pity and his love to those who opposed his claims, neither rejoicing in their defeat nor exulting in his own success. Illustriously controlling his feelings, all his senses completely enlightened, his heart impartially observing events, unpolluted by the six objects of sense! Reaching to that unreached before! obtaining that which man had not obtained! with the water which he provided filling every thirsty soul! Bestowing that which never yet was given, and providing a reward not hoped for! his peaceful, well-marked person, perfectly knowing the thoughts of all. "Not greatly moved either by loving or disliking! overcoming all enemies by the force of his love! the welcome physician for all diseases, the one destroyer of impermanency! All living things rejoicing in religion, fully satisfied! obtaining all they need, their every wish fulfilled! The great master of holy wisdom once gone returns no more! even as the fire gone out for want of fuel! Declaring the eight rules without taint; overcoming the five senses, difficult to compose! with the three powers of sight seeing the three precious ones; removing the three robbers (i.e. lust, anger, ignorance); perfecting the three grades of a holy life, concealing the one (himself) and obtaining the one saintship--leaping over the seven 'bodhyangas' and obtaining the long sleep; the end of all, the quiet, peaceful way; the highest prize of sages and of saints! "Having himself severed the barriers of sorrow, now he is able to save his followers, and to provide the draught of immortality for all who are parched with thirst! Armed with the heavy cuirass of patience, he has overcome all enemies! by the subtle principles of his excellent law to satisfy every heart. Planting a sacred seed in the hearts of those practising virtue; impartially directing and not casting off those who are right or not right in their views! Turning the wheel of the superlative law! received with gladness through the world by those who have in former conditions implanted in themselves a love for religion, these all saved by his preaching! Going forth among men converting those not yet converted; those who had not seen the truth, causing them to see the truth! All those practising a false method of religion, delivering to them deep principles of his religion! preaching the doctrines of birth and death and impermanency; declaring that without a master teacher there can be no happiness! Erecting the standard of his great renown, overcoming and destroying the armies of Mâra! advancing to the point of indifference to pleasure or pain, caring not for life, desiring only rest! Causing those not yet converted to obtain conversion! those not yet saved to be saved! those not yet at rest to find rest! those not yet enlightened to be enlightened! "Thus the Muni taught the way of rest for the direction of all living things! alas! that any transgressing the way of holiness should practise impure works. Even as at the end of the great kalpa, those holding the law who die, when the rolling sound of the mysterious thunder-cloud severs the forests, upon these there shall fall the rain of immortality. The little elephant breaks down the prickly forest, and by cherishing it we know that it can profit men; but the cloud that removes the sorrow of the elephant old-age, this none can bear. He by destroying systems of religion has perfected his system, in saving the world and yet saving! he has destroyed the teaching of heresy, in order to reach his independent mode of doctrine. "And now he enters the great quiet place! no longer has the world a protector or saviour! the great army host of Mâra-râga, rousing their warrior, shaking the great earth, desired to injure the honored Muni: but they could not move him, whom in a moment now the Mâra 'inconstancy' destroys. The heavenly occupants everywhere assemble as a cloud! they fill the space of heaven, fearing the endless birth and death! their hearts are full of grief and dread! His Deva eyes clearly behold, without the limitations of near or distant, the fruits of works discerned throughout, as an image perceived in a mirror! His Deva ears perfect and discriminating throughout, hear all, though far away, mounting through space he teaches all the Devas, surpassing his method of converting men! He divides his body still one in substance, crosses the water as if it were not weak (to bear)! remembers all his former births, through countless kalpas none forgotten! His senses wandering through the fields of sense, all these distinctly remembered; knowing the wisdom learned in every state of mind, all this perfectly understood! By spiritual discernment and pure mysterious wisdom equally surveying all things! every vestige of imperfection removed! thus he has accomplished all he had to do. By wisdom rejecting other spheres of life, his wisdom now completely perfected, lo! he dies! let the world, hard and unyielding, still, beholding it, relent! "All living things though blunt in sense, beholding him, receive the enlightenment of wisdom! their endless evil deeds long past, as they behold, are cancelled and completely cleansed! In a moment gone! who shall again exhibit qualities like his? no saviour now in all the world--our hope cut off, our very breath is stopped and gone! Who now shall give us life again with the cool water of his doctrine? his own great work accomplished, his great compassion now has ceased to work for long: has long ceased or stopped! The world ensnared in the toils of folly, who shall destroy the net? who shall, by his teaching, cause the stream of birth and death to turn again? Who shall declare the way of rest to instruct the heart of all that lives, deceived by ignorance? Who will point out the quiet place, or who make known the one true doctrine? "All flesh suffering great sorrow, who shall deliver, like a loving father? Like the horse changing his master loses all gracefulness, as he forgets his many words of guidance! as a king without a kingdom, such is the world without a Buddha! as a disciple with no power of dialectic left, or like a physician without wisdom, as men whose king has lost the marks of royalty, so, Buddha dead, the world has lost its glory! the gentle horses left without a charioteer, the boat without a pilot left! The three divisions of an army left without a general! the merchantman without a guide! the suffering and diseased without a physician! a holy king without his seven insignia. The stars without the moon! the loving years without the power of life! such is the world now that Buddha, the great teacher, dies!" Thus spake the Arhat, all done that should be done, all imperfections quite removed, knowing the meed of gratitude, he was grateful therefore. Thus thinking of his master's love he spake! setting forth the world's great sorrow; whilst those, not yet freed from the power of passion, wept with many tears, unable to control themselves. Yet even those who had put away all faults, sighed as they thought of the pain of birth and death. And now the Malla host hearing that Buddha had attained Nirvâna, with cries confused, wept piteously, greatly moved, as when a flight of herons meet a hawk. In a body now they reach the twin trees, and as they gaze upon Tathâgata dead, entered on his long sleep, those features never again to awake to consciousness, they smote their breasts and sighed to heaven; as when a lion seizing on a calf, the whole herd rushes on with mingled sounds. In the midst there was one Malla, his mind enamoured of the righteous law, who gazed with steadfastness upon the holy law-king, now entered on the mighty calm, and said: "The world was everywhere asleep, when Buddha setting forth his law caused it to awake; but now he has entered on the mighty calm, and all is finished in an unending sleep. For man's sake he had raised the standard of his law, and now, in a moment, it has fallen; the sun of Tathâgata's wisdom spreading abroad the lustre of its 'great awakening,' increasing ever more and more in glory, spreading abroad the thousand rays of highest knowledge, scattering and destroying all the gloom of earth, why has the darkness great come back again? His unequalled wisdom lightening the three worlds, giving eyes that all the world might see, now suddenly the world is blind again, bewildered, ignorant of the way; in a moment fallen the bridge of truth that spanned the rolling stream of birth and death, the swelling flood of lust and rage and doubt, and all flesh overwhelmed therein, forever lost." Thus all that Malla host wept piteously and lamented; whilst some concealed their grief nor spoke a word; others sank prostrate on the earth; others stood silent, lost in meditation; others, with sorrowful heart, groaned deeply. Then on a gold and silver gem-decked couch richly adorned with flowers and scents, they placed the body of Tathâgata; a jewelled canopy they raised above, and round it flags and streamers and embroidered banners; then using every kind of dance and music, the lords and ladies of the Mallas followed along the road presenting offerings, whilst all the Devas scattered scents and flowers, and raised the sound of drums and music in the heavens. Thus men and Devas shared one common sorrow, their cries united as they grieved together. Entering the city, there the men and women, old and young, completed their religious offerings. Leaving the city, then, and passing through the Lung-tsiang gate, and crossing over the Hiranyavati river, they repaired to where the former Buddhas, having died, had Kaityas raised to them. There collecting ox-head sandal-wood and every famous scented wood, they placed the whole above the Buddha's body, pouring various scented oils upon the pyre; then placing fire beneath to kindle it, three times they walked around; but yet it burned not. At this time the great Kâsyapa had taken his abode at Râgagriha, and knowing Buddha was about to die was coming thence with all his followers; his pure mind, deeply moved, desired to see the body of the lord; and so, because of that his sincere wish, the fire went out and would not kindle. Then Kâsyapa and his followers coming, with piteous sighs looked on the sight and reverenced at the master's feet; and then, forthwith, the fire burst out. Quenched the fire of grief within; without, the fire has little power to burn. Or though it burn the outside skin and flesh, the diamond true-bone still remains. The scented oil consumed, the fire declines, the bones they place within a golden pitcher; for as the mystic world is not destroyed, neither can these, the bones of Buddha, perish; the consequence of diamond wisdom, difficult to move as Sumeru. The relics which the mighty golden-pinioned bird cannot remove or change, they place within the precious vase, to remain until the world shall pass away; and wonderful! the power of men can thus fulfil Nirvâna's laws, the illustrious name of one far spread, is sounded thus throughout the universe; and as the ages roll, the long Nirvâna, by these, the sacred relics, sheds through the world its glorious light, and brightens up the abodes of life. He perished in a moment! but these relics, placed within the vase, the imperishable signs of wisdom, can overturn the mount of sorrow; the body of accumulated griefs this imperishable mind can cause to rest, and banish once forever all the miseries of life. Thus the diamond substance was dealt with at the place of burning. And now those valiant Mallas, unrivalled in the world for strength, subduing all private animosities, sought escape from sorrow in the true refuge. Finding sweet comfort in united love, they resolved to banish every complaining thought. Beholding thus the death of Tathâgata, they controlled their grieving hearts, and with full strength of manly virtue dismissing every listless thought, they submitted to the course of nature. Oppressed by thoughts of grievous sorrow, they entered the city as a deserted wild: holding the relics thus they entered, whilst from every street were offered gifts. They placed the relics then upon a tower for men and Devas to adore. Division of the Sariras Thus those Mallas offered religious reverence to the relics, and used the most costly flowers and scents for their supreme act of worship. Then the kings of the seven countries, having heard that Buddha was dead, sent messengers to the Mallas asking to share the sacred relics of Buddha. Then the Mallas reverencing the body of Tathâgata, trusting to their martial renown, conceived a haughty mind: "They would rather part with life itself," they said, "than with the relics of the Buddha"--so those messengers returned from the futile embassage. Then the seven kings, highly indignant, with an army numerous as the rain-clouds, advanced on Kusinagara; the people who went from the city filled with terror soon returned and told the Mallas all: that the soldiers and the cavalry of the neighboring countries were coming, with elephants and chariots, to surround the Kusinagara city. The gardens, lying without the town, the fountains, lakes, flower and fruit-trees were now destroyed by the advancing host, and all the pleasant resting-places lay in ruins. The Mallas, mounting on the city towers, beheld the great supports of life destroyed; they then prepared their warlike engines to crush the foe without: balistas and catapults and "flying torches," to hurl against the advancing host. Then the seven kings entrenched themselves around the city, each army host filled with increasing courage; their wings of battle shining in array as the sun's seven beams of glory shine; the heavy drums rolling as the thunder, the warlike breath rising as the full cloud mist. The Mallas, greatly incensed, opening the gates command the fray to begin; the aged men and women whose hearts had trust in Buddha's law, with deep concern breathed forth their vow, "Oh! may the victory be a bloodless one!" Those who had friends used mutual exhortations not to encourage in themselves a desire for strife. And now the warriors, clad in armor, grasping their spears and brandishing their swords 'midst the confused noise and heavy drums advanced. But ere the contest had begun, there was a certain Brahman whose name was Drona, celebrated for penetration, honored for modesty and lowliness, whose loving heart took pleasure in religion. This one addressed those kings and said: "Regarding the unequalled strength of yonder city, one man alone would be enough for its defence; how much less when with determined heart they are united, can you subdue it! In the beginning mutual strife produced destruction, how now can it result in glory or renown? The clash of swords and bloody onset done, 'tis certain one must perish! and therefore whilst you aim to vanquish those, both sides will suffer in the fray. Then there are many chances, too, of battle: 'tis hard to measure strength by appearances; the strong, indeed, may overcome the weak, the weak may also overcome the strong; the powerful champion may despise the snake, but how will he escape a wounded body? there are men whose natures bland and soft, seem suited for the company of women or of children, but when enlisted in the ranks, make perfect soldiers. As fire when it is fed with oil, though reckoned weak, is not extinguished easily, so when you say that they are weak, beware of leaning overmuch on strength of body; nought can compare with strength of right religion. There was in ancient times a Gina king, whose name was Kârandhama, his graceful upright presence caused such love in others that he could overcome all animosity; but though he ruled the world and was high renowned, and rich and prosperous, yet in the end he went back and all was lost! So when the ox has drunk enough, he too returns. Use then the principles of righteousness, use the expedients of good will and love. Conquer your foe by force, you increase his enmity; conquer by love, and you will reap no after-sorrow. The present strife is but a thirst for blood, this thing cannot be endured! If you desire to honor Buddha, follow the example of his patience and long-suffering!" Thus this Brahman with confidence declared the truth; imbued with highest principles of peace, he spake with boldness and unflinchingly. And now the kings addressed the Brahman thus: "You have chosen a fitting time for giving increase to the seed of wisdom: the essence of true friendship is the utterance of truth. The greatest force of reason lies in righteous judgment. But now in turn hear what we say: The rules of kings are framed to avoid the use of force when hatred has arisen from low desires, or else to avoid the sudden use of violence in trifling questions where some trifling matter is at stake. But we for the sake of law are about to fight. What wonder is it! Swollen pride is a principle to be opposed, for it leads to the overthrow of society; no wonder then that Buddha preached against it, teaching men to practise lowliness and humility. Then why should we be forbidden to pay our reverence to his body-relics? In ancient days a lord of the great earth, Pih-shih-tsung and Nanda, for the sake of a beautiful woman fought and destroyed each other; how much more now, for the sake of religious reverence to our master, freed from passion, gone to Nirvâna, without regard to self, or careful of our lives, should we contend and assert our rights! A former king, Kaurava, fought with a Pândava king, and the more they increased in strength the more they struggled, all for some temporary gain; how much more for our not-coveting master should we contend, coveting to get his living relics? The son of Râma, too, the Rishi, angry with King Dasa-ratha, destroyed his country, slew the people, because of the rage he felt; how much less for our master, freed from anger, should we be niggard of our lives! Râma, for Sita's sake, killed all the demon-spirits; how much more for our lord, heaven-received, should we not sacrifice our lives! The two demons A-lai and Po-ku were ever drawn into contention; in the first place, because of their folly and ignorance, causing wide ruin among men; how much less for our all-wise master should we begrudge our lives! Wherefore if from these examples we find others ready to die for no real principle, how shall we for our teacher of gods (Devas) and men, reverenced by the universe, spare our bodies or begrudge our lives, and not be earnest in desire to make our offerings! Now then, if you desire to stay the strife, go and for us demand within the city that they open wide the relics, and so cause our prayer to be fulfilled. But because your words are right ones, we hold our anger for a while; even as the great, angry snake, by the power of charms is quieted." And now the Brahman, having received the kings' instruction, entering the city, went to the Mallas, and saluting them, spoke these true words: "Without the city those who are kings among men grasp with their hands their martial weapons, and with their bodies clad in weighty armor wait eagerly to fight; glorious as the sun's rays, bristling with rage as the roused lion. These united are, to overthrow this city. But whilst they wage this religious war, they fear lest they may act irreligiously, and so they have sent me here to say what they require: 'We have come, not for the sake of territory, much less for money's sake, nor on account of any insolent feeling, nor yet from any thought of hatred; but because we venerate the great Rishi, we have come on this account. You, noble sirs! know well our mind! Why should there be such sorrowful contention! You honor what we honor, both alike, then we are brothers as concerns religion. We both with equal heart revere the bequeathed spiritual relics of the lord. To be miserly in hoarding wealth, this is an unreasonable fault; how much more to grudge religion, of which there is so little knowledge in the world! The exclusive and the selfishly inclined, should practise laws of hospitality; but if ye have not rules of honor such as these, then shut your gates and guard yourselves.' This is the tenor of the words, be they good or bad, spoken by them. But now for myself and my own feelings, let me add these true and sincere words:--Let there be no contention either way; reason ought to minister for peace, the lord when dwelling in the world ever employed the force of patience. Not to obey his holy teaching, and yet to offer gifts to him, is contradiction. Men of the world, for some indulgence, some wealth or land, contend and fight, but those who believe the righteous law should obediently conform their lives to it; to believe and yet to harbor enmity, this is to oppose 'religious principle' to 'conduct.' Buddha himself at rest, and full of love, desired to bestow the rest he enjoyed on all. To adore with worship the great merciful, and yet to gender wide destruction, how is this possible? Divide the relics, then, that all may worship them alike; obeying thus the law, the fame thereof widespread, then righteous principles will be diffused; but if others walk not righteously, we ought by righteous dealing to appease them, in this way showing the advantage of religion, we cause religion everywhere to take deep hold and abide. Buddha has told us that of all charity 'religious charity' is the highest; men easily bestow their wealth in charity, but hard is the charity that works for righteousness." The Mallas hearing the Brahman's words with inward shame gazed at one another; and answered the Brahmakârin thus: "We thank you much for purposing to come to us, and for your friendly and religious counsel--speaking so well, and reasonably. Yours are words which a Brahman ought to use, in keeping with his holy character; words full of reconciliation, pointing out the proper road; like one recovering a wandering horse brings him back by the path which he had lost. We then ought to adopt the plan of reconciliation such as you have shown us; to hear the truth and not obey it brings afterwards regretful sorrow." Then they opened out the master's relics and in eight parts equally divided them. Themselves paid reverence to one part, the other seven they handed to the Brahman; the seven kings having accepted these, rejoiced and placed them on their heads; and thus with them returned to their own country, and erected Dâgobas for worship over them. The Brahmakârin then besought the Mallas to bestow on him the relic-pitcher as his portion, and from the seven kings he requested a fragment of their relics, as an eighth share. Taking this, he returned and raised a Kaitya, which still is named "the Golden Pitcher Dâgoba." Then the men of Kusinagara collecting all the ashes of the burning, raised over them a Kaitya, and called it "the Ashes Dâgoba." The eight Stûpas of the eight kings, "the Golden Pitcher" and "the Ashes Stûpa." Thus throughout Gambudvipa there first were raised ten Dâgobas. Then all the lords and ladies of the country holding gem-embroidered canopies, paid their offerings at the various shrines, adorning them as any golden mountain. And so with music and with dancing through the day and night they made merry, and sang. And now the Arhats numbering five hundred, having forever lost their master's presence, reflecting there was now no ground of certainty, returned to Gridhrakûta mount; assembling in King Sakra's cavern, they collected there the Sûtra Pitaka; all the assembly agreeing that the venerable Ânanda should say, for the sake of the congregation, the sermons of Tathâgata from first to last: "Great and small, whatever you have heard from the mouth of the deceased Muni." Then Ânanda in the great assembly ascending the lion throne, declared in order what the lord had preached, uttering the words "Thus have I heard." The whole assembly, bathed in tears, were deeply moved as he pronounced the words "I heard"; and so he announced the law as to the time, as to the place, as to the person; as he spoke, so was it written down from first to last, the complete Sûtra Pitaka. By diligent attention in the use of means, practising wisdom, all these Arhats obtained Nirvâna; those now able so to do, or hereafter able, shall attain Nirvâna in the same way. King Asoka born in the world when strong, caused much sorrow; when feeble, then he banished sorrow; as the Asoka-flower tree, ruling over Gambudvipa, his heart forever put an end to sorrow, when brought to entire faith in the true law; therefore he was called "the King who frees from sorrow." A descendant of the Mayûra family, receiving from heaven a righteous disposition, he ruled equally over the world; he raised everywhere towers and shrines, his private name the "violent Asoka," now called the "righteous Asoka." Opening the Dâgobas raised by those seven kings to take the Sarîras thence, he spread them everywhere, and raised in one day eighty-four thousand towers; only with regard to the eighth pagoda in Râmagrama, which the Nâga spirit protected, the king was unable to obtain those relics; but though he obtained them not, knowing they were spiritually bequeathed relics of Buddha which the Nâga worshipped and adored, his faith was increased and his reverent disposition. Although the king was ruler of the world, yet was he able to obtain the first holy fruit; and thus induced the entire empire to honor and revere the shrines of Tathâgata. In the past and present, thus there has been deliverance for all. Tathâgata, when in the world; and now his relics--after his Nirvana; those who worship and revere these, gain equal merit; so also those who raise themselves by wisdom, and reverence the virtues of the Tathâgata, cherishing religion, fostering a spirit of almsgiving, they gain great merit also. The noble and superlative law of Buddha ought to receive the adoration of the world. Gone to that undying place, those who believe his law shall follow him there; therefore let all the Devas and men, without exception, worship and adore the one great loving and compassionate, who mastered thoroughly the highest truth, in order to deliver all that lives. Who that hears of him, but yearns with love! The pains of birth, old age, disease and death, the endless sorrows of the world, the countless miseries of "hereafter," dreaded by all the Devas, he has removed all these accumulated sorrows; say, who would not revere him? to escape the joys of after life, this is the world's chief joy! To add the pain of other births, this is the world's worst sorrow! Buddha, escaped from pain of birth, shall have no joy of the "hereafter"! And having shown the way to all the world, who would not reverence and adore him? To sing the praises of the lordly monk, and declare his acts from first to last, without self-seeking or self-honor, without desire for personal renown, but following what the scriptures say, to benefit the world, has been my aim.